#ron.writing

[thedo0zyslider]

When Scar hits that Succeed button, two things happen at once. The first is that the game doesn't end. Which is more disappointing than shocking, really, he truly didn't know if it would end or not when he hit the button. The second thing was that he remembered. Scar remembered a lot of things in that moment, four whole lifetimes worth of memories came back when he hit that button. And a lot of emotions came with those memories, like, a lot a lot.

The first is a lot of pain. A lot of pain and grief. So, so much grief, he hadn't even know someone could hold this much pain in them before now. But it's possible, and the choking sob Scar lets out proves that. He lets out more sobs after the first, unable to really stop them from happening. And the river tears that fall from his face, those are uncontrollable as well.

The pain he feels from the memories are for a lot of reasons. One of the first ones is the flower he wears, memories of desert heat and sand and llamas being the first to hit him. Memories of the very first creeper explosion, the war, everything. He remembers handing his one ally a bouquet of flowers, and then lying dead in a cactus ring not even a few weeks later. Heh, talk about whiplash....

The second pain, Scar finds as another sob hits him, is the strong pang of loneliness. One much like the sting he'd been feeling for this whole game. But this time it's different, it's the feeling that comes with experiencing true loneliness for the first time. This time around the lonley feelings had felt almost vaguely familiar, and now he can place why. Now he can remember the mountain and his dumb magic crystals and the sting of being left to fend for himself over and over and over again. And also the familiar sting of anger at everyone for just letting him be left like that. Alone and broken and hopeless.

The third reason is heartbreak. Bitter heartbreak, and also a sense of not really caring anymore. Then sense of being so deeply wronged, but being too jaded and apathetic to even care. Scar curls his fist at the memory, the cloth of his coat being nearly torn from how hard he holds it, and feels the bitterness of pure indifference to almost everyone wash over him once more; if only for a few measly seconds.

The fourth stab of pains, because they seem to be coming in rounds as he remembers each life, is strange. That life is happier. But this is a death game, so there is always pain that comes with it. There is a sense of strange alliances and the fourth death he can remember brings a sense of familiarity with it. A contrast to the very first that leaves something rather bitter in his mouth once again. Something with a slight hint of betrayal in it.

Thats where the memories and the grief stop, because he remembers the fifth life and the pain of it. There is nothing to remember, no pain he hasn't already gone through anymore. It’s real, it's there, and Scar can do nothing but cry and breakdown under the weight of it all. Above him, the Secret Keeper says nothing, just watches on with it's empty gaze, not caring a single bit for its victors breakdown.

Scar starts wiping at his eyes, hoping it would calm the stream now coming from them. It does not. Like how covering his mouth won't stop the sobs that bubble past his lips, and how clawing at his chest won't make the pain leave his heart. He thinks some of the tears are for the man he was, or the one he could've been; had these games not happened and spared all their players the pain.

At a certain point, Scar realizes he'd slid down onto the grass. His back is pressed against a block, the one that dammed Succeed button is on, and it's cool against his back. Cool against the wirthing agnoy inside and memories screaming loudly in his head. Cool and grounding against all the ugly trauma he's having to process all at once.

Eventually though, his crying does cease, and Scar can do nothing but stare down at his own hands. They feel sticky with the blood of many people, maybe versions of his friends long dead and buried; just like the many versions of him now are.

It's a little jarring, honestly, to be able to look at his hands and now know where all those scars came from. To remember. To remember why his arms and legs are coated in old the remnants of old wounds. Why there's an explosion scar covering his whole backside. Why sometimes his joints and certain parts hurt from being injured one too many times over, from taking too many awkward falls and bad landings. Some still aching from never having a chance to properly heal, and the wounds that caused his old deaths closed over and scarred like the rest of him.

After a few minutes, Scar tears his red gaze from his palms. He's tried of sitting here and crying. He's tired of an empty world. He wants to go home, to his friends. He wants to find people who also remember, who can help him; so he won't ever be lonely anymore.

He wants to stay sorry, if he can.

So Scar stands on shaky legs, and reaches out to press the Succeed button again. Just to test if anything else new will happen, or if, maybe, they will finally let him go home.

#ron.writing #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #gtwscar #secret life #sl smp #life series #life series smp #traffic series #trafficblr #traffic smp #slsmp #secret life smp #No shipping on this one me thinks #This isn't my best work but yk what I'll take it #Can u tell I forgot all of scars limited life the second I started writing 💔

[thedo0zyslider]

Scott, who is currnetly crammed into a small dirt hole, stares back at the green, cat like eyes blinking back at him in the almost utter darkness. The eyes of the one and only Tango. The one of the Tek variety.

Martyn had told him to hide, for just a little bit, and he hadn’t expected to wind up in the exact same hidey hole that the other last green on the sever had chosen.

It's an awkward thing, when Scott realizes he's crashed his neighbors hiding space. It also leads to a lot of staring into each other's eyes, because there is nowhere else to look. The hole is dark, only being illumated by a single torch light, and it is so small that he can barely see the walls past Tango's form.

Eventually though, after they've been staring long enough to memroize what each other's eyes look like in great detail. Tango lets out a gentle chuckle. "This is soooo bad if someone finds us!" His words are quiet, and his breath just falls short of Scott’s face.

"Yeah, yeah it would be." Scott agrees, a small smile escaping him. He cannot help but notice how close they are, how their bodies are flushed against each other. He can't help but notice how Tango practically has an arm around his lower torso, because bending it any other way would be uncomfortable. Scott notices how he's basically straddling the blaze as well, because a one by two hole will never be big enough for one person, let alone two.

"Soo....whatddya wanna do?" Tango jokes, his tail flicking against Scott's legs. He smiles in return, running a teasing hand over the other's chest.

"What ever you wanna do~" He purrs, leaning downwards. Tango smiles up at him, their foreheads bumping, until the blaze tits his head to the side a bit more, and a shiver of what feels like anticipation runs through Scott's body.

Their lips brush, just barely, before both them pull back. Well, it feels like both of them, but it's mainly Scott who does so. He's not very sure on going through with this is all after he thinks about it, even if he really really wanted to in the moment.

Based on what little he knew or Team T.I.E.S' members and their pasts, he had to wonder if Tango was with one of them. In a way that was more than friendship. He had to wonder if this would be cheating on anybody, because most of their servermates had formed some pretty steady relationships by this point. (Scott knew he was fine, because what him and Martyn were wasn't like that, but it also wasn't just a friendship either. And Martyn had said it was fine if explored other options, and he had agreed in return.)

Tango gives him a curious glance, one that's maybe a little concerned as well, and Scott voices his concerns.

"You're not gonna be...betraying anyone with this are you?" He asked, one of his hands having come down to cup Tango's cheek.

"No," Tango breathed, their faces barely two inches apart now. "Are you..?"

Scott shook his head no, but before he could finally lean in, there was the distinct sound of Grian’s voice above them. Because of course they would he interrupted right during the best moment, of course.

Both men froze in an instant, yet at the same time not moving away from each other, and stayed deathly silent as footsteps sounded above them. It takes a few minutes of Grian yelling at someone a bit further away, who seems to be either Joel or Jimmy, before their avian friend is gone and the world above them is silent once again.

Scott can barely believe it. They were less than ten blocks under the surface, and half of the people chasing them couldn't even think to dig out so much as a shallow hole. What were the odds of that.

"I don't think they're gonna find us for a while....." Tango murmured against his lips a moment later, warm breath ghosting over Scott’s face; his husky voice feeling rather loud in the newfound silence. And that's the moment be decides to hell with it, and promptly connects their lips.

Kissing Tango is warm and lovely and something like Scott’s never done before. It's less hotter and flamey than it looks like it would be in all honesty. At least in one way for now, because there are hands tugging at his hair and they are edging him on a great deal.

He bites Tango's lip when they go back in for seconds, and the blaze whines at that. Scott kisses him harder after that, and the only thing keeping him from destroying the blonde's neck was the fact that Tango had beaten him too it.

Sharp teeth graze over his neck as soon as they disconnect for a second time, teasingly running over his gills. Scott hums in pleasure when Tango finally bites down, and moves to grab ahold of the back of the blazeborn's head and wrap his fingers in soft blonde hair. Scott cranes his neck back after a moment, letting Tango have more access to bite and bruise his skin.

Not long after that there is the sound of blocks breaking, and the two of them fail to notice until there is more light flooding the hole than torchlight could ever provide. Tango looks up, cat like pupils expanding again, and softly moves away from where he was biting Scott’s neck. Much to the latters disappointment.

Thankfully, it is only Martyn, who blinks at them while he's processing what he just walked in on. As his ally does this, Scott scarmbles off Tango, already missing the other's warmth, and practically stumbles out of the entrance Martyn had made.

"We're you two making out down there!?" Martyn exclaims, a tease and laugh on tge edge of his tone. He's pushed out into the sunlight by Tango, who is blushing like Scott had never seen him before. He sees how much of a mess the blaze truly is once they aren't shoved in a whole and has proper lighting, and he's sure he looks worse. Considering what exactly they'd been doing when Martyn found the two of them.

"Did you want in or something?" Scott asks, and giggles when the comment ends in both the blonde's blushing. That's where Martyn decides to call it a day, and that it's time for Tango to go home. No more making out today, not for the two of them anyways.

But before he leaves Tango presses a fleeting kiss to Scott’s red and puffy lips, and murmurs a promise to visit him later. Scott murmurs back that he'll be waiting, and prepares himself to endure all his teammates teases on the way back home.

#ron.writing #trafficshipping #emberfrost #snowbugs #gotten obsessed with them recently haha

[thedo0zyslider]

Jimmy’s breath hitches suddenly, because Grimlands' Count is basically on top of him now. He's straddling the Codfather, that's what he's doing, he's sitting in the blonde's lap. And it doesn't feel wrong, it feels....nice. Jimmy likes being this close to fWhip, he realizes, and has no idea weather he should be bewildered or terrified by that.

He doesn't get the time to be either, because soon there is a hand cupping his cheek, and the Codfather has to fight against himself so that he doesn’t lean into it.

"You're teeth..." fWhip mumbles, fingers lifting up his top lip slightly. "I never noticed how sharp they were before..." He sounds memorized as he inspects the cod's mouth, and Jimmy swallows nervously, sharp and horrifyingly pretty blue eyes inspecting every movement of his face. Why is he thinking that fWhip's eyes are pretty.

Jimmy quickly finds that he's not uncomfortable with this, weirdly, he's just.....a little caught off guard is all. (Given proper warning he thinks he would've gladly welcomed this, fWhip’s fingers insi—Nope, no, he's not having thoughts about that. Nope not at all.)

"Yeah it's the whole...fish thing..." Jimmy manages to get a sentence out, through it's messy and muffled due to his jaw being held open and all. fWhip just rolls his eyes at that, his gaze having turned little firey.

"I guessed that," The Count snorts. It's not annoyance in his tone, but something close to it. "I was just wondering..."

"Wondering....what!?" Jimmy says, not very comfortable with the pause between the ginger's words. Its making him rather worried in fact, considering what damn position the two of them are in.

fWhip leans closer with a smirk, whispering into the blonde's ear. Or where his ear would be if he was a person. "I was wondering how nice those canines would feel against my neck~"

The cod feels heat rush to his face at that, and his breath hitches and damn near stops. Okay, that was kinda hot, he had to admit. Like, that was really really hot. and the Count damn well knows it too, evidenced by the smirk on his face that gets even wider at the cods reaction.

"What?" fWhip purrs, thumbing his cheek teasingly. "You into that or something~" The cod thinks he's going to explode he's so into this, but that something he will never say out loud to this guy.

"Wouldn't tell you if I was." Jimmy huffs best he can, stubborn and red in the face. The Count shifts on top of him, pressing them impossibly closer, until their chests are pressed together.

"And what are you gonna do instead? Because I know you're into this~" fWhip taunts, and runs a finger over one of the cod's canines. An evil little idea pops up in the back on Jimmy's mind after a few seconds of fierce blushing, and that is exactly what he's going to do about it, thank you very much.

Slowly, Jimmy begins sucking at the finger currently in his mouth. He barely even thinks about what he's doing once he gets the idea, but it seems to work regardless. Cherry red flush spreads across fWhip’s face, reaching the tips of his pointed ears in the process. Innocently, he raises an eyebrow, as if confused, and keeps sucking. Normally, he would be smirking, but that's kinda hard at the moment, with someone still inspecting his teeth and all.

"Asshole." fWhip huffs, quietly, the sound almost in Jimmy’s ears. It is then when he notices how close they are, and how at some point, their foreheads had begun to touch.

fWhip lets out a another huff when Jimmy doesn't stop, and moves one of his hands, the one cupping the cod's cheek, away to trail down his side, teasingly fiddling with the hems of his clothes. Their faces have gotten closer somehow, lips just barely brushing, fWhip's heavy breath landing on his face.

A cold hand slips under his shirt, clawed fingers tracing over his stomach, and Jimmy whines at that. A needy whine too, a desperate one. Like he wants fWhip to do more than stick his fingers in his mouth, because he does. He just doesn't want to think about what that something else actually entails.

"Needy, aren’t you?" fWhip mutters teasingly. Jimmy nods quickly, and the Count smirks. Even though he does not act like it, the cod can see the barely restrained desire hiding in the fWhip's eyes. And if it wasn't for that, he likes to think he'd be a little less submissive right now.

The Count hums, clearly satisfied with this response. "And you're a good little fish too~" He slowly but surely removes his other hand from Jimmy’s mouth, grabs hold of the cod’s chin and finally smashes their lips together.

The cod gasps into the kiss, a little taken aback by the heat of it all. Not that he minds in the slightest. Sharp teeth nip at his bottom lip, and Jimmy happily lets fWhip's tongue slip into his mouth. Quickly the blonde realizes that dear god, this idiot is a really good kisser, he has to say. If he'd known that he would've been needy a lot sooner.

fWhip makes a few noises of his own before they pull away, webbed hands tugging at his hair and his own ones digging into Jimmy's waist and holding his cheek tight. Every point of contact burns like fire, so much so that the cod thinks it'll kill him before the lack of air does.

Eventually, their lungs burn too much, and the two have to pull away. fWhip does not let go of his face as he looks into Jimmy's eyes, panting. Jimmy feels a bit mesmerized by this all, and almost never wants the moment to end. Almost.

Once the Count catches his breath, he starts to pull away. Like he is ashamed, or embarrassed by this whole ordeal. Jimmy catches him by the wrist quickly, before the other can ever leave his lap. fWhip looks back, confused, and a near iron tight grip keeping him down.

"You're not just gonna leave after that?" Jimmy says, trying not to sound or look to heartbroken. His voice cracks a little, and his eyes go wide, and the cod knows he failed. He doesn't even know why he's so heartbroken over an enemy.

"You wanna do something else?" fWhip asks the question a little hesitantly, like he's not sure Jimmy will say yes. After the blonde had just practically begged him to stay. Even still, he moves back to his proper place, and the hold on his wrist loosens just a little.

"If you'll have me." Jimmy says softly, and lets himself smile, fWhip says nothing, and connects their lips again. The cod hums into it, this one a little less heated then the first, and kisses the Count back the best he can.

It's not the first kiss of the day, and certainly will not be the last. Both rules take a chance to relish in that, and all the stolen moments they are about to take. Moments they will probably never have again.

Even if they want them.

#ron.writing #fwhimmy #empireshipping #fwhip #jimmy solidarity #suggestive #DO NOT ask me how they got here. They just DID #I don't know what possessed me but it's been in my drafts since August so erm. Here u go

[thedo0zyslider]

Martyn is...not very happy with how things have turned out thus far. Things with him personally, he means. The game has been relatively normal so far, expect for a few more purple symbols than usual that is.

Currently, Martyn is curled up in the Big Dogs Shack, hiding in bed like a child. It's for a very good reason, part of him thinks so anyways. The rest of thinks it's a pretty stupid one, and that he's too old for all this....this shit he would do as a teenager. But here he is anyways.

Against his will, his tail flicks in agitation again. Martyn groans and buries his head into the pillow. He had a new stupid tail and new stupid ears that just seemed to have a mind of their own! He doesn't want to a damn cat! He's a Big Dog, for gods sake!

Well, it's not that he doesn’t want to be a cat. He quite likes the animals, and he's a cat person at the end of the day. It's just.....They'd made him into a calico cat. The species that is, for the most part, female. And Martyn has been away from all that stuff for a while. He's been done transitioning for years now, so why'd They have to make him a blummin' calico cat!? They know how sensitive he is about it! (Or at least, he thinks they do...) Buncha jerks...

He turns in the bed again, just as the door creakes open. It seems the other Big Dog has entered their base. Martyn knows it's Jimmy, because his friends footsteps are familiar to him as breathing is. And also he's the only one it could be, realistically.

"Martyn! There you are!" Jimmy says, his footsteps growing closer to the bed. Much to Martyn’s dread. "I've been looking-"

The blonde knows he will have to force himself up with a sigh, because of he doesn't, the canary will just do it for him. So Martyn sits up, turning to face his old friend, able to feel his ears flattened against his skull already. "....Hi Tim."

"I was gonna ask why you were hiding but...I think I know why." Jimmy mumbles, taking a few hesitant steps closer. His wings are pressed tightly to his back, and his whole body language is one of caution. It's nice, that's he's being all considerate.

"Obvious innit it." Marytn huffs, his ally sitting down on the bed next to him. He shakes the covers off himself, properly revealing the tail as well. Jimmy’s eyes flick towards it, and his eyes widened with something. He thinks it's a new understanding of the situation.

"You scared to go outside now?" The canary asks, shuffling closer. Martyn let's him, until their shoulders are touching. The touch is comforting, something he kinda needs in the moment.

"Yes!" He groans, burying his head into Jimmy’s chest. The other just lets out a huff, and removes him, so they can have this conversation face to face. "What if someone-"

"You really think anyone here is gonna be like that?" Jimmy asks, raising an eyebrow. And Martyn has to be really off his game, for Tim to be the smart one here. Its usually the other way around in these scenarios. "Besides, four of us already know."

"I know. Sorry." He sighs, running a hand through his hair; which had gotten a little messy during all the flopping around he'd just done. "Old habits I guess."

"It's fine." Jimmy smiled earnestly, reaching out a hand. He gave an experimental scratch behind Martyn's ears, and the other couldn't help but lean into it. He didn’t want to lean into it, that was an instinctual thing! The blonde still didn't want to be a cat, and never would be.

"I knew that would work!" The canary smiled, looking stupidly pleased with himself. Martyn let out another groan, his face flushing in embarrassment. He totally didn't lean into it when Jimmy went to give another scratch, and he certainly did not purr about it either.

"You little rascal." He huffs, moving away so Jimmy can longer reach him. The canary just laughs, and lamely tires to chase after him. As a result, Martyn ends up on the floor giggling, and closer to the door.

Jimmy leaves him a few minutes later, saying he should consider going outside. Now that he's feeling better and all. Martyn hums, and takes that into some real consideration.

Maybe he will finally leave his house...

______________________________________________________________

Once leaving the house, Martyn isn't to sure where to go. He doesn't really wanna run into anyone and face any questions about the....everything. Unless whoever he runs into is one of five people. Those five being the four that already know, and the only other person that has weird gender stuff. That he knows of, anyways.

So he ends up knocking on his ex soulmates door, and praying no one else is home.

The front door opens, and the blonde suddenly wonders if this was a bad idea, and if he should be regretting all his life choices.

"Martyn. What do you want?" Cleo asks, leaning against her front doorway. They don't look displeased to see him, but they also don't look to happy either. Martyn ignores that, the look the zombie is shooting him, the growing ball of anxiety in his stomach, and tries to force out words instead.

"Um well, you see-" He begins, a little unsure. As if right on cue, his tail starts flicking. Cleo notices, and raises a curious eyebrow The blonde holds back a sigh at the movement he cannot yet control, and gestures to the ears now atop his head. "It's about....this."

"Okay, you're a calico cat now...?" The zombie says, not quite getting it. Which is fair, considering he has never talked about it before. (Something he probably should've done with his damn soulmate back in Double Life, but the past's the past and this is the present.)

"And calicos can only be...." Martyn trails off, letting the statement finish itself. He knows Cleo's smart enough to work it out.

"Oh." She says, her eyes lighting up in understanding. They stop leaning on the doorway, and move out of it completely. "Get inside."

"Thanks." Martyn says, slipping inside their house. God, even all his movements fell cat like now. Which sucks big time. It's making him feel worse, if anything.

"Don't mention it." Cleo says, shutting the door behind both of them. No one else seems to be home, since the house is quiet expect for the sounds the pair makes. Martyn is grateful for this, because he doesn't want Etho to overhear this, and Grian already knows. The zombie shows him to where one of their beds are, and gestures for him to sit.

"So....does anyone know about it?" They ask, watching as Martyn awkwardly plops himself down on the white bedsheets. On a bed Etho probably stole a few weeks back, no less.

"Yeah. Jimmy, Pearl, Grian, and Bigb." He says, wrapping his new tail around his legs. He strongly resists the urge to kneed the bed. "And you now, I guess."

"So whoever makes these games just forced you to come out, basically." Cleo says, sitting in the opposite side of the bed next to him. She looks a little pissed at that, so much so Martyn believes she would fight the Watchers herself. He's touched by the implied sentiment, really.

"Yeah..." Martyn mumbles. If he's upset by it, and he definitely is, the blonde tries not to show it. He doesn't wanna dampen the mood more than his presence normally does.

Cleo repeats the same sentiment Jimmy had just an hour before, and Martyn wants to scream just a little bit. "Well, no ones gonna hate you for it."

"I know! Jimmy already told me that." He said, throwing his arms up in the air a bit. Like a petulant child would. "It's just scary."

He continues with a sigh, putting his hands back down and clutching them at his sides. Martyn wonders if there are any hidden claws he could unsheathe and accidently dig into his flesh. "And Ren. Ren won't know. And I kinda wanted to tell him before anyone else...."

"I think he'll find out, in his own Ren way probably." Cleo says, surprisingly reassuring. Martyn doesn't know why he's surprised, when this is exactly what he came here for. "I just have a feeling like that."

"....Okay." Martyn mumbles, somehow, feeling reassured by those words. Some part deep down in him knows that Cleo is right, and that Ren will find out in his own, diggty dog like way. Like he was always going too.

"You should just walk around, honestly. No hiding the tail or the ears." Cleo says with an easy shrug. And for some reason, Martyn finds himself taking their advice. But it's always been like that, he takes the zombies advice almost on instinct. Like some part of him knows that she's admittedly smarter about some things.

It was just another weird thing about their relationship, he supposes.

"Really?" Martyn says, consideration made clear in his tone. "They're gonna say something..."

Cleo just snorts, and gives him a little bit of a look. "Do you think Bdubs is smart enough to put two and two together? Or Joel? They'll probably just think you have cute little ears now."

"You have a point..." Martyn mumbled, now actually somewhat sold on his ex-soulmates idea. His tail flicked again, but probbaly with a more positive emrion than it had before. "....You think these are cute?" He added with a sly little smile, not one to miss that comment at the end there.

"Get out before I make you." Cleo snorted, going to try and shove him off the bed. Martyn held back a giggle, and quickly doged out of their reach. It didn't work fully, as they manged to shove him just a little bit.

"Yes ma'am." Martyn said, getting off and the bed and to his feet with a slight stumble. "Lovely speaking to ya" The blonde called over his shoulder, not looking back as he made his way towards the door.

"Can't say the same here." Cleo yelled after him, but it clearly wasn't too serious, and there was a slight laugh in her tone still.

Martyn smiled at the sound, and let the house feeling much more confident than he did when he had entered.

______________________________________________________________

In taking Cleo’s advice, Martyn had decided to just do so chores. Said chores included boring and mundane things, like gathering wood, stone, food, and maybe placing a couple of cheeky sweet berry bushes down here and there. Just in case they did manage to nick someone.

He would not seek out people like he normally would. The blonde decided go just simply be for once. Whoever found him found him, and he would face the questions and stares when they did.

It wasn't of any surprise to him when Pearl was the first person he spotted. Martyn had a feeling something like that would happen, especially since he was a little near to the mounders base.

He spotted his friend as she left her base, slipping outside of the Mounders walls to do whatever. Pearl hadn’t spotted him just yet, but he couldn't just not call out a greeting, that would be rude. And he wasn't gonna be rude to Pearl, of all people.

"Hi Pearl!" Martyn yelled out, throwing his arm up in a friendly wave.

The brunette looked up in suprise, her head twisting around rapidly. When Pearl finally saw where he friend was standing, her eyes lit up. "Martyn! Hi!"

He smiled back, and walked forward, so they could talk easier. As he moved forward, he saw the way Pearl’s eye widened at the sight of his ears, and suddenly had a very good idea of what her reaction was going to be.

"Your ears!" Pearl says when they are standing infront of each other, reaching to cup his face. Martyn let's her, very aware of the fur that now lines his cheeks as well. She squishes them in wonder, before going to fiddle with his ears. The blonde can only let out an amused huff at all her prodding, leaning into the contact on newly formed instincts.

"Yeah, I'm a cat now." He responds, cheekily flicking his tail around her legs. Pearl lets out a gasp, her eyes moving towards the new apendage.

"And you have a tail!" Pearl almost squeals her words out, watching the blonde's tail flick with even more wonder if her eyes. If that was even possible. Martyn almost has to hold back a chuckle.

"Yep. And I'm a calico." He says, trying really really hard to hide the sourness he feels over it. But apparently he doesn't try hard enough, because Pearl still catches it, and a frown stretches across her features.

"If anyone's rude to you, I'll kill them myself." Pearl says firmly, giving him another scratch behind the ear, for she is still holding his face in her hands.

"Greens can't kill people!" Martyn giggles, leaning into the touch without even thinking about it anymore.

"Doesn't matter!" Pearl says a little too cheerfully, rubbing the fur on his cheeks again. Martyn had forgotten half his friends were cat people, admittedly like himself, and that a lot of them were going to have this reaction. So today, and maybe the next few, were going to be filled with a lot of this. A lot of pets and ear scratches. Not that he exactly hated it, it was just something the blonde now had to get used too.

"We should go show B and Grian! And Jimmy!" Pearl exclaimed after a moment of rather comforting pets, her eyes lighting up once more.

"Tim's already seen me!" Martyn says, letting his cheeks get properly smushed, like a grandma would do.

"Well BigB and Gri havent!" Pearl's insistent on it. And before the blonde knows what's happenings she's grabbed him by the hand, and is now taking him towards BigB's weird hole base. Martyn accepts his face, holding back a few more laughs as he does so.

They thankfully find BigB at his own place, and not the heart foundation, exactly as Pearl had thought they would. She flags their friend down by calling out his name until he hears her, mainly because neither of them really know where he would be hiding in his labyrinth of a base. This strategy works surprisingly well.

BigB appears from around a corner, like some sort of damn ghost, and Martyn has to stop himself from jumping out of his skin. And to both of their surprises, Grian follows behind him, wings a little messy. They had to have been in the mines then, for the parrots wings to be full of that much soot and dust.

The two men approch them cheerfully, and rhe blonde forgets everything Cleo, Pearl and Jimmy had been telling him all day. He figures this is going to become routine for the day, and maybe the one after that.

"Martyn," BigB said, studying his friend carefully. Like the difference wasn't obvious. The blonde tried to shrink under his gaze, acutely aware if the way his tail flicked behind him. "You're a cat now."

"Isn't he adorable!?" Pearl exclaimed, going to rub his ears again. Martyn wrinkled his nose at that, and moved away best he could. Just because he had ears didn't mean Pearl could pet him all she wanted. Though she would damn well try, regardless of his opinion on it.

Grian snickered, watching his tail move from side to side in amusement. "Not so much of a big dog now, eh?"

"Oh hush, bird brain." Martyn snorted, suddenly smacking the avian in the leg with the very tail he was so amused by.

"Hey!" Grian squawked lightly, his wings starting to flare out behind him. Martyn smiled smuggly, and shuffled a little out if the way, knowing his friend was not afraid to smack someone. With his hands or his wings. The other two people laughed at their antics, giggles filling the air.

Maybe Cleo was right after all. Maybe walking around wasn't such a bad idea after all. Even if Pearl and BigB were insistent on showing him off to everyone.

It's not really what Martyn had in mind for the day, but he'll go with it. Especially if it's with these three people. Maybe Jimmy will even join them, and make his day even more unexpected.

Yeah, yeah that would be nice. A day running around with those four, just like they used too. That would be nice.

______________________________________________________________

By the end of the day, Martyn had been paraded around to everyone. Every member of the server had seen his new tail and ears, and most of them had fawned over it and called him cute. And maybe he has attempted to scratch a few certain people for such comments as well. Not many, just a few. To test if he had claws is all.

There were only two interactions that stuck out in his mind, ones that he would probably replay over and over again in his head for a few days at least. And the first one happened when he stumbled across an old teammate

He found Scott once Pearl brought him up to the cherry Blossom, still dragging him around by the hand like a toddler. Martyn just let her do so, not wanting to kill her enthusiasm. And the cherry trees did smell rather nice, now that he had a better sense of smell on him. So going up the pink mountain wasn't all too bad, even if his feet were staring to tire from all the walking he'd done. BigB had long since left them for that excat reason, actually, and Martyn couldn't fault him. There were walking around the whole server without a horse.

After marveling at him for a few minutes, Gem takes Pearl into her house for something, a trade the blonde thinks. Impulse hadn’t been home at the time, reportedly with Bdubs or Skizz. Which just leaves Martyn and Scott, the two men standing in a silence that is only a little bit stilted.

Matyn awkwardly shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets, tail flicking against some loose cherry petals on the ground. He feels like there's something they should talk about, considering how close they were last game. A game he knows they both remember. Thankfully, Scott wants to get to the point, taking a few thoughtful steps closer to the blonde.

Scott hummed, scanning over his ears and tail. He'd clearly figuired it out, why Martyn was a calico. He'd probabky done so instantly, actually, knowing Scott and how stupidly perspectives he tended to be. "You never told me, back on the island."

"Never came up." Martyn shrugged. Yet his tail still flicked uneasily, old memroies making some part of him feel unsure about this situation. Even though he knew not to be. "You're not mad, are you?"

"Nope." Scott smiled reassuringly, bumping their shoulders together. "I wish you had, but I understand why you didn't."

Martyn smiled back at him, and playfully flicked his tail around the others legs. "So you're not mad?"

"Not at all." Scott confirmed, right as Gem and Pearl excited the formers house, stuff now being carried in both of the women's arms. Martyn internally groaned at the thought of having to lug that around with them, and hoped Pearl had the sanity to make a stop back at home before going anywhere else.

The next encounter he remembered was at the end of the day, on his way home. As sunset was falling and just under an hour after he and Pearl had parted ways.

On his way back to the mesa, he runs into Tango. Or rather, he runs into Ren in Tango's body, as some part of him is saying.

He's not going to question, or even think about why They decided to do that. Martyn just feels his breath hitch, and his limbs go stone cold.

The two of them just stand there for a moment, looking and staring in what has to be either shock or awe. Martyn cannot tell which.

Ren stares back at him knowingly, through Tango's red eyes, and Martyn has never felt so observed in his life. It's as if his old friend is searching every inch of him, taking in everything so he never forgets it again. And his new features as well, features he stares at way too long for Martyn to be comfortable with.

Ren slash Tango opens his mouth to speak, and for a moment Martyn is a little scared. He's scared of what the other will say, and what cruel words might be hurled at him.

Then he remembers that this all nonsense, and that these people are his friends. They are not like those people, they are not like that.

He remembers Cleo and Jimmy’s words for what has to be the seventh time that day, and feels a little better once more.

"Hey." The other man says, tentative.

Martyn mumbles back. "Hey."

Ren slash- he's just going to call him Ren, since that's who's really speaking here, let's out a small smile. Martyn misses his dog ears and the little fangs you could always see when he moved his mouth. Not to say Tango was and looking or anything, his body just wasn't the right fit for this one particular dog guy. "Been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yeah." Martyn smiled, feeling himself go a bit less stiff by the moment.

"Your ears," Ren says, sounding a little uncertain of how to broach this topic. Martyn can't blame him for it, because he isn't quite sure either. "You never told me before."

"I didn't know how." The blonde says, honest. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's not a big deal." Ren smiles gently. Martyn smiles back, no longer feeling scared anymore.

Everyone was right. No one would get mad at him. His friends were not those kinda people.

"Well, Tim's waiting for me back at Baxter." He continues after a moment moment now comfortable silence. "See you a different time?"

"Yeah, a different time." Ren confirms, giving him a small wave as he starts to turn away. The blonde waves back.

"Makre sure Tango knows somehow, will you? I don't want him being left out." He gives one last request. He'd hate for one of their group to be left out because of them, after all.

"Will do!" Ren calls, and that is where their meeting ends. Both men go back to their own homes, confident they will see each other once again. Maybe not here, but elsewhere, in a different place maybe.

Martyn goes home, to his syupid little dog house, feeling a lot better than he had when he woke up that morning.

#ron.writing #martyn inthelittlewood #martyn littlewood #inthelittlewood #martyn itlw #secret life #traffic series #trafficblr #zombiecleo #jimmy solidarity #I have been wanting to write this for over a month haha #Do not tag as ship :] #bigbst4tz2 #grian #pearlecentmoon #scott smajor #rendog

[thedo0zyslider]

fWhip blinks at Jimmy, his face already starting to turn a light shade of pink. A moment before he had let a cheeky flirt slip out, maybe he had teasingly inched closer to the Codfather as well; invading his personal space just a bit. A flirt more obvious than his previous ones, one that he hoped and prayed that Jimmy would get.

And the blonde did get it, yet it did not have the desired or expected effect at all. Jimmy had give him a confused look, one that's maybe even a little appalled as well. fWhip was now shuffling away again, alarmed. He had been under the impression they'd both been flirting with the other, had been for months now. That they had been for what was probably close to a year.

"What was that for??" Jimmy asks, clearly more than a little puzzled. fWhip, now properly mortified, felt his face flush further.

"I-i was flirting. That was flirting." He stumbles over his words, tail flicking across the grass nervously. "I thought we'd been flirting for a while now, that's all.."

"You thought we'd been what!?" The blonde exclaims, his own face turning several shades of red. The Count wants to disintegrate into the ground now, actually, that would be great. Because this is horrible and entirely life ruining. Not to mention utterly embrasssing.

fWhip choked out his next words, light confusion and a fair amount of shame starting to course through him. "With the whole cod versus salmon thing, that was flirting...right?" He asked, skeptical. Jimmy just gaped at him.

"No!" The cod shook his head vigorously, and a hole in the Count’s stomach joined his ever growing embrassment. "You thought it was!?"

"Yes! I thought you thought it was too!" fWhip almost yells it, his face now properly flushed. But with embarrassment this time, when he would rather the redness be from something else. For the thing he originally came here for. The thing he so desired so much it had landed him in this exact situation.

Oh, this day was not going good.

"Well I didn't until now!" Jimmy yelled back, now matching the Count tone. His face was flushed red as well, and fWhip had to stop himself from thinking about his face. And how pretty it was, especially when red and flustered like that. This was like, the exact opposite situation to be doing that in really.

He really had a lot to make up for, starting now.

"God, I'm so sorry." fWhip began, running a gloved hand over his face for a moment. "I shouldn't have done that, really I-"

Jimmy cut him off rather quicly, frantically waving his hands. "No, no, it's okay!"

"What." fWhip said, looking at the cod in bewilderment. What did he mean it was okay? He'd been flirted with him for a year and assumed it was reciprocated! That's not more weird and inconsiderate than okay, in the gingers humble opinion that is.

The cods face was jow red for a different reason than embrassment, and he stammers through all his next words. "I mean, ah, well. I-I'm not opposed to flirting with you-"

"Oh my god." fWhip feels himself turn redder too, the color now extending to the tips of his pointed ears. Well, he'd never thought that would be the direction this conversation would go, but he's certainly not opposed to it. "Really?"

"What!? You're a good looking guy!" Jimmy's rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, best he can with the tail of that stupid cod head hanging arkund his neck. "And stupidly endearing...."

fWhip held back another groan, and alost the urge to bury his face in his hands. This was such a mess. They were such a mess. "I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Am I that cute or something?" Jimmy teases, the Count barley noticing as he takes a step closer. And then another, and another and another, until they are much closer than they had been in months.

"Gods, yes." fWhip said, feeling a little breathless. And their promixty was not helping that in the slightest. It was not helping, at all.

"O-oh. Oh." Jimmy stammered, still able to be taken aback despite his more confident demonor he'd suddenly gained. Dear god he looked so cute like this, the Ckunt had to admit. He always looked cute. He really, really fucking did. fWhip was either gonna throw up or explode, whichever came first. "You're not too bad y-yourself."

"You already said that." The half dragon huffed, feeling a tail that was not his own flick around his legs.

"Doesn't hurt to say it again." Jimmy muttered, now properly in his person space. Their faces are....very close. Close enough that the Count hopes no one decides to drop by for the next few minutes or so. This is a sight that would certainly cause some rumors to spread indeed.

"We should've flirted like this from the start...." He muttered, finding it very hard to look at Jimmy’s eyes, and not anywhere else on his beautiful, fishy little face.

"I agree, fWhip. I agree." The cod hummed, reached up slowly. He titled the Count’s chin upwards, making their faces closer. To compensate for the height difference. fWhip feels the breath leave his lungs, and the flush spread down to his neck. He leans into the touch, and Jimmh smirks.

A very fleeting kiss is pressed to his lips. One so fleeting he hasn't even processed its happened, not until the cod is pulling away and letting go of his face. fWhip grabs his hand before it moves away, and holds it against his skin. Jimmy just laughs, and decides to hold him for just a few seconds longer.

He never wants the moment to end. He wants more. He wants to kiss the other again so badly it hurts.

Unfortunately, Jimmy has different ideas. And is also the biggest tease ever, apparently.

"I have business to attend to back at home," Jimmy says, manging to pull hid hand away. He also starts to move back and walk away, all while fWhip is still trying to process the last several minutes. The sneaky bastard. "But maybe we can contuine this another day? Next time we see each other, maybe?"

fWhip gets his composure back, just enough to respond. "Yeah, next time." He mutters, and watches Jimmy walk away for a few moments.

He knows he'll be daydreaming about what next time will be, all the way until they see each other again. Whenever that may be.

And the Count cannot wait for it.

#ron.writing #jimmy solidarity #fwhimmy #empires smp #fwhip #empiresshipping #they r wholesome in todays drabble!! yay!! #empires shipping

[thedo0zyslider]

Those Unanswered Affections Of Mine - 1k Words

Martyn is in love, because of course he is, and it's not going very well.

A03 Link

One day, Martyn lands in a world of pirates. A good one, a fun world, full of people he knows and loves and was friends with. People he knew he’d been missing, but didn’t want to admit. There were people he didn’t know as well, and knew he’d miss them too when it all came to an end.

Point is, he loves a lot of these people, but not like that, just platonically. Expect for one, maybe two, once upon time, and currently, because of course he does.

Martyn is not even in this world for long before he starts falling for someone, he’s there for barely a week he thinks. He’s not even surprised when it happens, really. He’s had far too many lost lovers across his journeys already, so what’s one more added to the ever growing list?

Except he’s already lost this one before, he thinks, not in this world or lifetime; but some other. And now he has fallen headfirst into love again, with the same man once more. He can’t help it, really, not when it comes to Scott.

Scott, despite the striking change from teal to ginger hair, is still just as pretty as he is in Martyn’s fuzzy memories. His smile is still the same, so is his laugh. His eyes are still beautiful and easy to get lost in. Scott’s still strong and handsome just like he can barely recall, still makes the same dirty jokes that always made Martyn snicker, that he always set him up for back then. Back on that little man made island they used to share, a lifetime ago..

Martyn is entirely unsurprised when one day, when the two of them are standing around near the quest board, he finds his gaze drawn to Scott. Martyn finds that he’s suddenly awkward around the Heron, and has to stop himself from turning a little red whenever Scott even looks at him, let alone teases him. He’s pretty sure Scott knows how much the teasing flusters him, by the way, because of how often he seems to do it. The Heron does it at every chance he gets, really, no matter where they are or who the two of them are with; he's got some sort of tease locked and loaded.

Yet the other man does not react the same. Martyn guessed he would, but still he blushes and he swoons because he cannot help it if his heart is dumb and foolish.

But Scott doesn’t love him in return, and Martyn knows this. Scott is more interested in Sausage or Flam than he is Martyn. (And he can understand Sausage really, but Flam? The ship guy? It’s his jealousy talking there, he knows it, but it's another thing that Martyn can’t really help. He wishes he could though, just a bit.) And he can do nothing about it other than watch, watch as Scott flirts with others but not him. He’s glad the Heron at least likes him, maybe even enough to consider him a friend, because Martyn doesn’t find loving someone who hates you very appealing.

But that doesn’t stop it from hurting, doesn’t stop Martyn’s heart from shattering day after day after day after day. It’s not as bad as could be, probably would be, but the pains are still enough to be unbearable.

So he drowns those feelings with kisses from his fellow Kestrels, and hopes such free affection will fill the gaping hole in his heart. It doesn’t, it never does, no matter how many they give him it never works. And Martyn wishes he’d fallen in love with Oil, or Sausage instead, because he’s sure they’d love him back.

He kisses them both anyways, and it means nothing to either of them. It won’t mean anything till Scott's the one who kisses him, but that’s never happening. Scott is firmly interested in Sausage, which makes every kiss with his fellow Kestrel feel dirtier by the passing day, and Martyn is aware when one of his little crushes is there to stay. (At least kissing Oliver is nice, enjoyable even he supposes. Doesn’t feel like dirt in his mouth at least.)

He’s had too many of them not to be really. They never leave anyways, not a single one of them does. Martyn’s heart always does that to him, leaves him waiting on love that sometimes will never be returned. It’s a cruel cycle, really it is, one he cannot break, and doesn’t really have the ability too.

So Martyn downs his feelings at the bottom of several, several barrels of rum, and beer and vodka and what have you, and tells himself he’s going to finish his mission sooner than he planned. Lest this stupid emotion consume him once more, and he spends months staring at Scott and longing.

It feels a little bad that he wants to stay. He wants to stay and stare and long and be in love with Scott for a little while longer. It’s probably a bad thing that he does, and a very certain someone would probably be unhappy if he did so, but Martyn was very tempted to do that, and he knew he wasn’t the best at ignoring his impulses.

So maybe staying for a little longer, dragging out the mission even, all for one pretty guy who would never ever possibly love him back, wouldn’t hurt at all. Well it’d hurt him, but when was he not being emotionally damaged by something?

It’ll be fine, probably. Probably, if he stays. When he stays. He’s staying, he’s going to stay, goddammit, oh how he shouldn’t stay. Really, Martyn should not stay.

Come morning, he does so anyways, because he is a fool, a lovesick one, and can’t quite muster the energy to care about what shoulds and should nots. At least for the time being he can’t, because the blonde is sure he’ll be regretting this later. And that’s fine, because he’s getting to stay regardless. It’s a win-win, in his mind anyways, even if he always loses somehow.

He just hopes Scott won’t miss him too bad when he does decide to leave, if he ever misses him at all.

#ron.fic #ron.writing #inthelittlewood #martyn inthelittlewood #pirates smp #scott smajor #smajor1995 #majorwood #scottyn #piratesshipping

[thedo0zyslider]

(Lil snippet from this tangled au i made recently :])

"How...how long have you been in that tower?" Fwhip asks, looking over at Jimmy. The fish boy sits next to him in the grass, tail curled comfortably around himself. Until the young prince spoke his eyes had been transfixed on the pond nearby, but now they moved to meet his; and the prince felt his face redden just the slightest bit.

"Oh, I don't know." Jimmy shrugs, as if the topic wasn't as serious as it truly was. "My whole life probably."

Fwhip feels some of the color drain from his face as he looks at Jimmy in utter disbelief, and probably horror as well. He can't imagine being trapped somewhere for that long, terrified to leave because you've been told you'll be killed if you do. He can't imagine being stuck somewhere only because of lies a family memeber feeds you. He can't imagine being stuck with only four walls and a window, forced to wonder what it's really like oustide. Thats no way to live. It's not right, in fact it's down right horrifying.

It's abusive to do that to someone, that's what it is. Plain and simple abuse, and Fwhip is going to have so many words with Lizzie when he next sees her. And none of them are good words, either

Jimmy seems to notice the look on his new friends face, and shrugs again. "It's fine though really!" He smiles, eyes momentarily flicking towards the nearby pond once more. "You get used to it..."

Though the cod's voice is cheery, there is that distinct note of sadness, of longing, underneath it all. And Fwhip isn't going to let Jimmy be sad anymore. He's not going to let him think what happened to him was okay, because it wasn't. It really, really wasn't.

He puts a hand over Jimmy’s and squeezes it as hard as he dares. The blonde's gaze flicks down to their now intertwined fingers, but Fwhip’s stays fixed on his face.

"You're never going back to that tower, okay?" He says, voice firm yet as kind and gentle as he can mange. Not as long as I'm here.

Jimmy’s gaze flicks back up to him, and his breath stutters for a moment. "...Okay. Okay, I won't go back." He mutters, and there seems to be not a hint of regret lingering on those words.

Fwhip smiles back at him, one that is undeniably fond. "Good."

Jimmy returns the smile a moment later, and the prince knows in his soul that he would do anything for this boy. This poor, sheltered boy who he wants to show entire the world and then some.

#ron.writing #fwhimmy #the tangled au #empires smp #empiresshipping

[thedo0zyslider]

"There's no one else here but me. Me and skeleton horse."

Pearl watches as Lizzie turns away, and goes to rummage through her chest. For whatever she had asked for just a minute ago. She finds it doesn’t really matter now, not after that sentence.

Shd watches Lizzie ruffle through her chests, and finds her whole....demeanor familiar. How she stands by herself, away from every other thing or object in the room. How she carries herself, defensive most of the time, and even now.

Pearl remembers when she was lonely too. When she had nothing but herself, a dog, and some powered snow. Just like Lizzie has nothing but these pumpkins and her horse.

The underlying pain of it all is achingly familiar. She wants to reach out and help, to be friends. So Lizzie won't be so alone anymore. So no one else has to understand Scarlet Pearl like she does.

But Lizzie turns around with the items in her hands first, and the moment is gone.

And Pearl leaves, stuff in hand, and leaves a friend with nothing but a skeleton horse.

______________________________________________________________

Pearl looks at Scar a decent amount, and whenever she does she sees that same loneliness Lizzie has. It's very strong, and hovers around him like some sort of magical aura.

It's almost fascinating, how lonely people can recognize each other so easily. Like some kind of six sense for kindred souls

She tries to help him more than she does with Lizzie. Mainly because Lizzie died before she could reach out to help her again. And because Scar lives awfully close, and keeps hanging around her base.

She makes some weird puesdo alliance with him. Pearl like to believe it does more than it really does.

It probably doesn't work that well, even if she does land a spot in second place. Even if he doesn't want to kill her, and their weird friendship worked in some way.

Scar still wins alone, just like she had.

Well, maybe havinv someone who understands Scarlet Pearl won't be that bad.

Maybe they can be lonely together. Just them and Lizzie, where she is.

Alone together.

#ron.writing #ldshadowlady #pearlecentmoon #lizzie ldshadowlady #gtwscar #gtws #goodtimewithscar #secret life #trafficblr #sl smp

[thedo0zyslider]

ITS MY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF WRITING FANFIC!!! Thought I would celebrate by dusting off some of my old rottmnt drafts! Today and tomorrow are turtle story days <3

So for the anniversary, I present to you:

Overtime - 5k Words

After the battle with the Kraang, Donnie finds himself feeling very overwhelmed and out of it. Leo has no problem helping him through it, thankfully.

A03 Link

Donnie sat on the broken ground, slumped in a pile together with his brothers. The Kraang were defeated now, after who knows how many hours of fighting and a pretty big number of near death experiences. Raph had just finished giving them all the most bone crushing hug, which was okay by Donnie this time, not by all his injuries. Now the three of them sat there, recovering, and trying to summon the will to move.

Mikey was still holding on to Raph, as if scared he would leave them again. Which, valid fear after today. Leo was smushed into between the latter and Donnie, somehow still conscious after the final fight. At some point their hands had found each other, as the adrenaline started to wear off, and Donnie was gripping onto his sibling like a lifeline.

As the adrenaline started to wear off, and Donnie slowly came back to his senses, he felt two things. The first was pain, and a lot of it. Everything on him hurt, and it was excruciating . All of his limbs, his shell, his sides, absolutely everything . While Leo and Raph had taken more of a beating than their younger brothers, Donnie and Mikey’s wounds weren’t anything to be scoffed at. He had a good amount of cuts, most still bleeding, and probably some internal injuries as well. If he had to bet on it.

The second thing Donnie felt was the lingering, yet still there, sensation of the Kraang. How their tentacles felt against his skin, the sliminess of it. How squishy it was and how it felt around his arms. The feeling of being mind-melded with those foul beasts.The tentacles pulling him from the ship and the horror of it all. It made the turtle want to lose what little lunch he had left in him.

He suppressed a shudder, and gripped onto Leo's hand tighter.

There were….a lot of emotions running through him right now. Fear of the Kraang, for his brothers, for himself. Still lingering and now displaced grief for Leo. The fear of losing his twin, someone so close to him. The worry for Mikey when the leader Kraang sent them flying down to earth, surely to their deaths if Raph hadn't been there. Every single bad emotion he'd felt in the past twelve hours was there too, all piled and stacked on top of each other like a torture device.

But mostly it was still grief for Leo. Which is why he'd reached for His brother in the first place, and held his hand tight. To make sure he was real, and that this wasn't some cruel dream or hallucination. Please don't be a stress-induced hallucination.

“Donnie?” Leo mumbled after a moment, looking over at his twin. “You okay?” He squeezed his twins hand experimentally, slightly worried gaze boring into the other's skin. He was still worried for his siblings, even though he was probably dazed as hell and just as out of it as they all were. The idiot. He should focus on himself first, not his twin.

Donnie didn't respond verbally, because he couldn't, but he did squeeze his brother's hand back. He buried his head further into Leo's side as well, and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Oh.” Leonardo mumbled, going a little soft. “Yeah, I think I wanna do that too.” He tightened his grip on his brother's hand a little more, hoping the action was as grounding as he wanted it to be.

“Can I keep touching you?” He asked quietly, Raph and Mikey being forgotten for a moment. The other two were still nearby, and were aware of Donnie’s condition, they were just making sure not to crowd him right now.

Donatello nodded once for yes , as they always did when one of them got like this. Two nods meant no , and three meant that you were unsure of whatever you were being asked. The system had been devised years ago, when they were much smaller, and had worked pretty well. If one of them couldn't nod, they would tap or blink or do something else instead.

“Okay…is it the noise?” He asked, brows furrowing. He moved, so Donnie was more in his lap, even if simply existing hurt like a bitch right now, let alone moving . But it let his twin curl better, without retreating into his possibly damaged shell, and hide further away from any light or noise. Oh, Leo had forgotten to ask if it was light bothering him! Dangit

His brother nodded no again, and Leonardo moved onto the next option, other than the light sensitivity one. Donnie was also breathing normally, as far as he could tell. Which was good. So he wasn't having any kind of attack like Leo silently feared, something had just pushed him over the edge and finally overwhelmed him after all. “Do you need silence? Or is it the light?”

It took Donnie a moment to think, to really listen to see if the sound is bothering him. He doesn't open his eyes to test the light, so it's probably not that. Even if Leo couldn't have done anything about the sun, except for hiding him or getting him indoors quickly. After a minute, Donnie shakes his head no once more, and Leo yet again moves onto the next option. Which he will keep doing until he finds the reason for this.

And if there's no clear reason, he'll sit on this stupid island with his twin until he starts to feel better.

“Pain? Something else?” He hums, taking a quick glance of the wounds he could see on Donnie; the medic side of his brain already starting to fire up. Donnie nods twice for yes, and Leo gets his answer. And thankfully it's something that can be solved, relatively soon too if they're lucky.

“Mmm, okay.” Leo chirped, wondering if the pain was in his shell. He had heard something about it being exposed at one point, so it was a possibility. Hopefully, if it was, it wasn’t too bad of an injury. That was probably the case, considering how sensitive that part of him was. “Can you walk?”

Donnie does three nods, saying he doesn’t know, and probably doesn’t want to find out. Or leave his twin’s side. In response Leo just makes his voice sound as reassuring as possible, and promises something that’s pretty impossible right now. “We'll just carry you back to the medbay then!”

“Leo, you're too injured to even walk! You can't carry Dee too!” Raph protests, taking his eyes away from Mikey; who has now gone to inspect the oldest brother’s injuries in return. The Raph Cassum is already starting to form at the thought of the very injured Leo carrying his brother, and the leader can do nothing but sigh at the overprotectiveness. At least it wasn’t misplaced this time.

“One problem with that, hermano , he’s stuck himself to me.” Leonardo huffs, ghosting his free hand over Donnie’s battle shell. He knows it was replaced mid fight, and is now checking for breaks in the material. And if there was a break or two, he would check for any blood and cuts that might be exposed with it.

“Guess Raph’ll just have to carry you both.” The oldest grumbled, already looking prepared to scoop half his siblings into his arms. Mikey looked like he wanted to help as well, and then seemed to remember the state of his hands with a rather large pout. Poor little guy.

“Woah Woah! Are you sure you can handle that? You just had Kraang inside you!” Leo protested, finishing checking the battle shell. There was nothing wrong with it, but Donnie surely had injuries elsewhere. Not that he could see them, nor would he move his brother to do so, but Leo was pretty sure that some blood had been dripping on him slowly for the past few minutes. Blood that wasn’t his own. Fuck.

Raph snorted, and shook his head all determined like. What a big teddy bear he was, truly, especially for the three of them. Though he would never be quick to admit it.. “I've carried you guys home through worse!”

“If you say so….” Leonardo murmurs, narrowing his eyes. He was sure Raph hadn't carried them home through worse, even on the worst days of their childhoods. But arguing with his younger brother was not worth it, especially when they're both injured. That's something Leo has come to realize as of late.

Mikey interrupts their conversation with a loud noise. He bumps shoulders with Raph best he can, all excited over something. “Guys! April's texting me!” He nearly yells out, fumbling with the buzzing phone now in his hand.

“Your phone's still intact!?” Leo exclaimed, a slight smile starting to form on his face. His phone was absolutely broken, even despite Donnie’s expert tech, and had no idea what their other siblings' phones looked like. Probably not in good condition, if he had to bet, and didn't think that Mikey's was any better. “It's like, indestructible or something!”

“Yeah it is!” Mikey says, a smile faltering as his gaze moves back down to his phone. It looks almost…painful to hold it, with all the cuts and scrapes lining his skin. “I can't really…use my hands though.”

“Gimme the phone!” Leo said, making grabby hands the best he could. Well, more like a grabby hand , since Donnie was gonna be holding his right one for the foreseeable future. He was sure Raph could've typed to April just as well, but he was the leader now. And he didn’t want to worry Raph with the responsibility of arranging a meetup, not anymore then he'd burdened his brother already.

“M’kay!” Mikey said, reaching over Raph to hand it to him. The oldest brother let Leo handle the rest of their family, and turned to Mikey instead. Raph went to look at Mikey’s damaged hands, while Leo opened the phone and the messages that had been sent. It was a lot of April yelling at them in worry, so he chose to read only a few that he could give a concrete response to. And ones that would get them all home faster.

Apes: MIKEY!!! ARE YOU GUYS OKAY!?? WHERE ARE YOU!?!?!?

Mikey: HI APRIL this is Leo!! We're all alive. Micheal can't use his hands and Donnie’s a little overwhelmed, plus my whole body hurts and Raph’s like half blind rn.

Mikey: we're on staten island (ew) and Donnie’s clinging to me like a koala. And also we might not be able to walk

Apes: me and splints will come get you in the van

Mikey: thanks. Where's future boy?

Apes: he found us dw

Mikey: okay tyy. See you when u get heree <3

“She said her, Dad and Casey will come pick us up!” Leo said, looking up from the screen. He distantly saw April reply with a <3 of her own, but his focus was already away from the screen for the next little while. “You don’t have to carry us after all Raph!” He went to throw Mikey’s phone back to him, but then remembered the hand problem. Instead he gave his little brother a sympathetic look, and pocketed it himself instead. Mikey just gave a nod, and glared sourly down at his injured limbs.

“Uh good,” Raph mumbled, a little sheepish. “Because I wasn't sure I could do it.” He rubbed the back of his head, and Leo just snorted with light amusement. Good to see Raph back to his typical overprotective brother stuff, even after they had all almost died.

Leo gave an eye roll at that, and looked back down to Donnie. He would let Mikey respond to that for now, he had a younger twin to take care of. “You hear that, Dee?” He muttered, noting how his brother seemed to be listening in, despite his state. “April's coming to get us. And dad.”

Donnie hummed in acknowledgement, and lifted his head up. He was tired of hiding it like a baby. This also meant he had to open his eyes, and readjust to the dying daylight around them. But it wasn’t as bad as the aches and pain and the gross feeling that’s still all over him. He doesn’t really move from where he sits in Leo’s lap, nor does he speak, but he does look around while they wait for April and the other two. Mikey ends up sitting in front of all of them, looking for any matching scars they had from opening the portal. Well, all but Leo, who used to look on with an indescribable look on his voice. Donnie made the mental note to pick his twin’s stupid brain later, because they were all going to have to talk about it eventually. Even if none of them really wanted to…

It’s not long before the Turtle Tank has made its way onto the island, no doubt having to move carefully around all the rubble. It’s really impressive how fast it got there from town, actually, considering Leo had texted April less than twenty minutes ago. But regardless, three familiar figures step out of the massive van; Splinter ends up with Mikey and Raph, while April crouches in front of the wins after basically beelining for them. Casey just stands away, unsure what to do with himself for the next few minutes.

“Is Donnie okay!?” April asks, crouching on the ground next to the boys. She gives all of them a worried look, but especially Donnie, who is still hiding his face in Leo’s plastron. It probably makes him seem more injured than he appears, even to someone as close to him as April. Heh, if she only knew the beating Leo had taken just before this, girl would lose her mind.

“Yeah. Just overwhelmed.” Leo says, making no move to shift the other off of him, not yet anyways. Donnie gives her a wave, and she returns the greeting with a small grin and a wave of her own.

“Oh, okay.” April sounds a little relieved, before quickly turning to go and bark orders at the future boy. “Casey! Help the others, will you?”

“Yes ma'am!” The boy in question responded, doing so with a salute. The gesture looked like it was how he always talked to April, like it was muscle memory for when she told him anything. Another weird future habit they’d have to slowly beat out of him over time, Leo supposed. If he even stayed with them after this in the first place.

Leo and Casey exchanged a quick glance before the latter walks off, and well…it was sure something. He seemed familiar with what was happening, and with the way he never got too close to Donnie; like someone who’d never seen him like this might. He had to wonder if the future version of his brother had these moments in the apocalypse, and how frequent they might’ve been on top of that. He wonders if there was anyone that could help him like they’re helping Donnie right now. Leo really hopes that there was.

“Do we have any medical supplies in the van?” April asked, probably because of the state all of them were in. Nevermind what injuries her and the other two possibly had. Though they surely weren't as severe as Leo or Mikey’s, the wounds were still bound to be pretty bad regardless.

“I think D put an emergency first aid kit in the back.” Leo mumbled, shifting a bit. He sensed April was ready to get them all inside the tank and off this island. To be honest, he was ready for that as well. Also, Donnie was kinda heavy and laying on injured limbs, no offense to him of course.

April nods, and prods Donnie lightly in the leg. The latter rolls his eyes, and pokes her back playfully. “Okay, let’s get him in there then.”

Leo hums in agreement, near relieved to maybe finally have another person’s weight off his fucked up legs. Even though he would do all that again in a heartbeat if he had to, almost dying was just a real bitch. “Are you okay with being picked up, or can you walk?”

Instead of nodding, Donnie just decided to get it over with. He took a deep breath, before forcing himself to his feet. April jumped in surprise, and made sure he was steady on his feet. Though Donnie did have to lean on her shoulder just a little. When he was all good, April reached down to help Leo up.

The other twin took her hand gratefully, knowing he couldn’t really walk more than a few feet. All that stuff about carrying Donnie earlier had been fake bravado, mostly for his siblings sake. So they wouldn’t worry as much, so they wouldn’t know how much of a beating the Kraang leader had given him. That all seemed stupid now, because they could all see the way he was practically carried into the turtle tank like a child.

Once they’re inside, Donnie points to where that supposed medpack is. April nods, and sets both the boys down beside them. She halves whatever medical supplies are hanging around with Casey, and the two of them get to treating the injured turtles. Splinter drives, because other than April, he’s the only one who knows the route home. Donatello goes to curl in on his brother again, still having a rather tough time, despite the now dimmer light of the turtle tank. Though he doesn’t get to stay there for long, as April crouches in front of both the twins expectantly, first aid supplies in her hand. Ones that will have to do it for now, before they can get back to the lair’s medbay and properly treat their wounds.

“Can April patch you up?” Leo asked, moving so April had more room to sit in front of Donnie, but not enough to let go of his twin’s hand. The other still didn’t say anything, just nodded furiously and made a noise in the back of his throat. A very clear yes, considering it was the sensations that were overwhelming him in the first place. “Okay!” April said, her voice calm and steady. Like a real nurse or something like that. Something she’d be good at. “This’ll only take a minute okay? Just uncurl yourself?”

“….ine.” Donnie mumbled. He meant to say fine instead of whatever he’d muttered out, but the f sound had not come out. The turtle was still a little overwhelmed it seemed, even if it was slowly getting better. And by slowly he meant very, very slowly. He was hoping the first aid would help speed that process up.

“Hey, he’s back.” Leo teased, nudging him very softly in the side.

Donnie rolled his eyes and huffed, all his words coming out properly this time. Thankfully, them not doing so made him sound stupid. He hated sounding stupid. “Can it, Nardo.”

“You know you love me!” His twin shot back, a cocky look on his face. If Leonardo wasn’t in pain, he would probably be throwing an arm around the others shoulder, to be even more obnoxious. It was his specialty, after all. “I’m still mad at you, for the record Leo.” April pipes up, having carefully wrapped one of the larger cuts on Donnie’s arm already. She’d taken it without asking, well used to patching up her boy's dumb wounds. The disinfect stung as it always did, but it was better than leaving it open. Donnie knew that, though he still hated the extra flash of pain it brought to him in the moment.

Leo looked down at the tank’s floor, maybe a little sheepish, or guilty. Key word being maybe . If Donnie knew his twin, and he liked to think that he did, he probably didn’t regret that self sacrifice much at all. The dumb-dumb. “Yeah, I figured.”

“I gotta patch you up as well?” April sighed, scanning over Leo’s wounds. The external ones anyways. The tank goes over a bump, probably a piece of debris or something, as April moves onto the several cuts on Donnie’s arms. All either from the falling glass, concrete or whatever else. The others are having a quiet conversation, just like their own, on the other side of the van. Donnie is enjoying the reactive silence a lot more than he probably should, heart still aching from earlier.

“Heh, probably.” Leo hums. Donnie’s hand never leaves his, and hasn’t this whole time, even when he squeezes it hard in pain. Enough to hurt his twin. Yet they both sit there in silent companionship, as they are healed and driven home, surrounded by their big dumb family.

A few hours later, they’re all home and rested. The turtles are all hauled up in the medbay for who knows how long, injuries and broken parts of them being fussed over. April doesn’t leave, standing over Casey’s side as he treats them all. It makes sense the kid is so good at this stuff, since he survived the apocalypse and all. Though eventually Donnie, who’s still not done winding down, requests a separate room. Or at the very least his bed be put further away. He doesn't want to inconvenience anyone while they’re properly treating Mikey and drugging up Leo so he’ll sleep for once, but he doesn’t want the noise to upset him even further. But no one seems to think it’s an inconvenience, and April moves him away from the worst of it, as far as she can.

They sit together for a while, just sitting and laying together, before April has to go home. Her mom is worried sick about her after the recent attacks, and is blowing up what remains of her phone. Three of them do have to basically shove her out the door, threatening to sic Draxum on her, but she does eventually leave. Not without giving all her boys the biggest hug though.

About thirty minutes later, Mikey pops his head in. Donnie is sitting on his bed, humming and drumming his fingers against the sheets when he enters. He knows he needs to sit here to get better, and that logically doing so would get him back to inventing faster. But on the other hand, he hates sitting there with nothing to do or nothing to play with. It was driving him more mad than the lingering sticky feeling was, one that didn’t go away with most of his pain.

“Oh, Donnie! You’re better!” Mikey says, his usual cheerful demeanor a little dulled. Donnie looks over in surprise, not having anticipated a visitor. But he will use this new opportunity to his advantage, because he currently cannot walk very far. And there is nothing within reaching distance that will get the sticky feeling off of him.

He hates asking Mikey a favor immediately like this, but he thinks the other gets it. The youngest brother has his moments too, where the sensations get too much and he needs to scrub them away. Donnie would know, they both found out their least favorite textures through a lot of trial and error over the years. Like, a lot a lot. “Hi, I need hand sanitizer. Please. And something to fiddle with?”

“I gotchu!” Mikey said, and dashed behind the medbay’s curtain just as quickly as he had appeared. Maybe three or five minutes later, he was popping back in. It was impressive how fast the little guy moved sometimes. In Mikey’s arm was Donnie's preferred brand of hand sanitizer, probably straight from his room if he had to guess. There was also a chinese finger trap, probably also from his bedroom, and two stuffed animals as well.

“Where Raph?” He asked, taking the hand sanitizer and finger trap from Mikey as he spoke. He sat the fiddle toy down on the bed, and frantically opened the bottle as quickly as he could. Hand sanitizer, his sweet, sweet savior.

The younger hummed, holding both of the stuffed toys closer to his chest, probably to comfort him, if Donatello had to guess. “Resting!”

“And Leo?” Donnie scrubbed the gel-like substances into his hand, a lot harder than he should. But he didn’t care. It was making the bad and gross sensations go away after hours of suffering, which was all he cared about. As long as he didn’t rub his hands so hard he bled, the turtle would be fine .

“Knocked out on painkillers, behind that curtain.” Mikey said, moving one stuffed animal so he could point. The mere mention of Leo made his brows furrowed in worry, and Donnie filed that away for later. He would have to do a one over on his twins status as soon as he got the chance, if it was worrying Mikey that much. “He’s pretty roughed up, but Casey said he’d pull through.”

“Good.” Donnie hummed, now satfisted with his amount of scrubbing and hand sanitizer applied. He sets the bottle to the wayside as well, and turns hi attention to the toys his brother is clutching still. “Is that one of your stuffies?”

“Yeah, It’s Mr. Snuggles!” Mikey says, holding up an off-colored brown teddy bear the Donnie recognized from their childhood. It was so old the brown was turning a yellowish-orange, and its fur had to be unsoft now, but anyone could tell Mikey still loved it dearly. He holds out the other stuffed toy next, one that isn’t quite as old. It’s a purple rabbit with wiry looking fur, a pink nose, white markings and small beady, black eyes. “I thought you would like Bunbun, because he’s purple.”

“That is objectively the best color…” Donnie hums playfully, as if considering the gift. As if he would ever decline such a wondrous gift from his dearest Micheal. But he does accept eventually. “I’ll be very careful with him.”

“I know!” Mikey smiled, letting his older brother gently take the stuffed animals from him. “Mayhem tried to eat him.” He snorted affectionately, evidently having run into the little dog-mutant-pet thing on the way here. Because April had left her whole dog at the lair again, somehow. Or maybe the weirdo had wanted to stay with them, who knows. “Of course.” Donnie snorted, placing the stuffed rabbit in his lap. It was more soft and less wiry feeling than it looked, which was a pleasant surprise. He hugged the thing closer to his plastron, glad to finally have something softer than the crappy, horrible-feeling medbay blankets underneath him.

“Can I stay with you for a bit?”Mikey asked, shuffling even closer to the bed, and hugging Mr. Snuggles even tighter. “Everyone else is sleeping and I don’t wanna be alone.”

Donnie patted the spot next to him on the bed, feeling a fond smile slip past his lips. “Hop up here, Micheal.” He said, and his brother did just that, getting cozy right next to him, stuffed animal still firmly in his arms.

Mikey leaves, after a few hours of dozing off and goofing around, the best that two injured turtles can. When he does leave, it is to go help Raph and Papa with something. He says he’ll try very hard, even if his hands are clumsy and bandaged. Micheal scurries out, clearly glad to be helpful, and leaves Mr. Snuggles under Donnie’s protection for a little while.

An hour later, Leo is awake. And walking for some reason. Donatello finds out his twin is awake when he’s the next to pull their curtain back, and saunters towards Donnie’s bed like he wasn’t in the prison dimension less than twenty four hours ago. At least he thinks it’s been less than a day, the turtle lost track of time once the invasion started, and had stopped trying to track it towards the middle of their fight.

“Greetings Nardo.” Donnie says, taking in the state of his brother. This is the most injured he’s ever been, period, if the ungodly amount of bandages indicted anything. Holy moly that was…. a lot of bandages. He distantly hoped none of them were dirty, because of how hard they would all be to change. “Sorry for clinging to you earlier.”

“It's fine.” Leo shrugged, Donnie watching as his twin leaned against the side of the hospital bed. “I think I need that, something touching me that wasn't Kraang.”

“Well, I'm glad I could be of service.” He mumbles, and dangles a hand off the edge of the bed. Just like they used to do, when they were kids and one of them had a really bad nightmare. Leo puts his arm in the most comfortable position he can, and takes it wordlessly with a squeeze. “How’re Raph and Mikey? And the others?”

Leo recited their family members' conditions with a hum, telling his twin all the medical stuff he knew the other really wanted to know. “Raph has some eye and internal stuff, just needs rest and time. It's fifty-fifty on if he can use that eye again. Mikey is pretty upset about his hands, and he’ll have to relearn how to use them, but other than that he's okay physically. Casey said he had a lot worse before and that he can recover quickly, Dad just broke, like, most of his old-ass ribs, and April is in the best condition of all of us. Draxum and Cassie haven’t contacted us yet, so I have no idea how they are.”

Donnie took a second to process all of that, committing all those details to his memory for later reference and worry opportunities when something inevitability went wrong, then nodded. “How about you?”

“I shouldn’t be outta bed, but I hate laying there by myself.” Leo says, predictably not telling Donnie about his own condition and injuries. Which was fine, he’d find them out one way or another eventually. Someone needed to make this idiot rest, and Mikey and Raph didn’t have the bullshit wrangling skills you develop by being twins with Leonardo Hamato.

Donnie sits up with a huff, one of annoyance at his brother's carelessness. He’s covered head to toe and bandages, two of his limbs are in a splint, and he’s walking around like nothing happened. Does he want to not heal!? “Dumb-Dumb.”

“I know.” Leo snorted, leaning his head up to get a better glance at his sibling. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit. When're my injuries healing, dear medic.” He responded, looking down at his brother. He went to grab for the chinese finger trap Mikey had brought, knowing he’d need to stim with something to get through this conversation.

“Two or three weeks, give or take.” Donnie lets out a pained grown at hearing that, and Leo cracks an amused grin in response. Enjoying his twin’s suffering, how dare he, truly. What a cruel man he was. “At least you don't have to wait a month like me!”

“Yet you're still out of bed.” Donnie quipped back, giving the other a pointed look. He really wanted his brother to go back to bed, but knew that was a rare thing normally, and probably would be unlikely for the foreseeable future, until he was healed that is.

Leo cracks a smile, one not from joy, but something else. Something that shouldn’t be in his smile, and it hurts that it is. “Painkillers are a hell of a drug.”

“Idiot.” He mumbled, affection buried under the layers and layers of annoyance.

“I know.” Leo’s smiled faltered, and the frown that crossed his face was almost worse.

“Congrats on saving the world, by the way.” Donnie said, but the words sounded dead, even to him. He did mean it earnestly, a little bit. But he thinks the rest of him is still recovering from the…the everything and the feelings he will never know how to put into words. Because he’s bad with feelings.

Yeah. that .

“You're being nice, what's wrong?” Leo says, somewhat teasingly. He knows Donnie is upset, and is attempting the feelings talk. That’s why his tone is light, to make the process easier for his brother. For both of them. Donatello appreciates when he does that, more than he will ever, ever admit.

“I'm tired and thought you almost died, that's why.” Donnie snorted, his grip tightening on his brother's hand again. He didn’t want to ever let go, not after today, not after the prison dimension, not ever. He wanted to keep this dumb-dumb close and never let go, not until he knew they were all okay again.

Leo let a chirping sound escape from the back of his throat, as if he was trying to be soothing. It only somewhat worked, but both twins probably expected that anyways. “Ya know what, that's fair.”

“Stay?” Donnie mumbled, suddenly understanding how Mikey had felt just hours ago. He very much did not want to be alone anymore. He was finding he hated it actually, and probably would for the next little while. Without his family beside him, lord knows where they could possibly be, or if they were okay. Especially Leo.

“I think Raph would kill me if I left.” Leo giggled, pulling his one good leg up to his chest, so he could rest more comfortably. Donnie would let him on the bed if he didn’t have two splints and a scary amount of bandages that needed to be left undisturbed. “So yeah, I'll stay.”

“Thanks.” Donnie said, handing his twin Mr. Snuggles. He couldn’t keep two fluffy companions all to himself, now could he? And their owner certainly wouldn’t want that either!

“Don't mention it.” Leo took the old bear with a bond smile, and hugged it to his plastron, just like Mikey had done. Donnie did the same with Bunbun, and let the now comfortable silence fill the medbay once again, for what had to be the fifth time that day. Normally, he would hate having no sound, but some days, like today, it is nice to just hear nothing. To just be .

Donatello squeezed his hand once more, and Leonardo squeezed it back, just like he always did.

#How has it been a year wtf #God I've written so much #rottmnt donnie #rotmnt #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt raph #rise tmnt #rise of the turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise leo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise raph #rise april #ron.writing #ron.fic

[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

[thedo0zyslider]

Kisses And Holes - 2K Words

Oli has some work to do in Pix's hole, and it goes a little differently then expected.

A03 Link

Oli has a job to do in Pixlriff’s hole.

Not in that way though, that would be a weird thing to start off with. He has a job to do in an actual hole, the bloody big one Pixl is digging out for his project. That hole. Anyone else who thought otherwise needed to get their head out of the gutter, really!

The blonde hummed as he made his way over to his friends base, pickaxe being twirled in his hands idly. He had a vague idea of what he was being asked to do —which was dig—but other than that Oli hadn’t been given many directions. All Pixl had told him was to show up, preferably around noon, and then he would be put to work. It was the wink that had gotten Oli a little curious and excited about this whole ordeal. And just a little nervous as well. For all he knew, Pix had tricked him into mining twenty thousand blocks. Or something else that’s absolutely insane like that.

He gets there quicker than expected. And also without dying or taking much damage, something also unexpected. Oli didn’t have a track record for avoiding either, a few deaths under his belt and the man constantly finding some way to lose hearts. But it seems like today is his lucky day in that regard. The blonde reaches the hole totally unscathed, and circles the area a few times until he sees a familiar spot of blue standing somewhere inside the giant thing.

“Pixlriffs!” He calls out jovially, spotting the man a little ways off, standing in the shallower part of the pit. “My sweet boy!” The man turns his head back in surprise, and a big smile stretches across Oli’s face when their eyes meet; and Pix’s light up upon seeing him.

“Oli! Hello!” He calls back just as happily, watching as the bard makes his way to him; having to parkour on a few things to do so. The hole is a bit of a mess, a bunch of makeshift exists and uneven spaces being dug out, so traversing it is a bit of a hazard. But still, Oli manages to do it, and is standing in front of his friend just as quick as he’d arrived.

“I’m here as requested!” Oli says with a smile, twirling his pickaxe in the air a bit. He would throw it, but he’s not too sure he could catch it. And Oli would like to not die anymore, since Pix using a fate coin on him is what landed him this job in the first place. And he doesn’t want more hours of labor, even if Pix is good company. He has logs to sell and hogs to keep safe! Also, dying by pickaxe would be embarrassing, and he doesn’t even want to know what that chat message would look like.

“Ah, you’re here to pay me back? Like I requested?” Pix almost purrs the sentence out, and, surprisingly, reaches out to tilt the blonde's chin up just a tad. The blonde feels the way his breath hitches, and then Pix’s hand is gone before he can fully process it was there. Or before he can lean into, like he kinda wants to do. Only kinda though, not a lot. He totally doesn’t want to lean into it that much…

“Yep! That's what I'm here for!” Oli says, giving a quick salute. He briefly feels his cheeks heat up, and ignores it. There’s no time for blushing, not when he has work to do! Hours and hours of very important work to do! No time for all of that indeed…

“Good, good!” Pix says, his joyful tone from earlier returning, and the sultry one disappearing into nowhere just as quickly as it had appeared from nowhere. (Oli doesn't think he’s ever heard Pix sound like that before, and he can’t say he’s really against it…it’s quite nice on the ears, and makes him feel all fluttery inside, just a bit…) “I just want you to dig out a chunk, the one over there preferably.” The brunette hums, pointing at little ways off, at a part of the hole that had yet to be touched by many human hands. Expect Pix’s, when he’d needed to chop off the first handful of layers of course.

“I can do that in like, two hours tops!” Oli nods, looking at the area. A chunk sounds like a lot of space to dig out, and certainly looks like it too, but it can’t be too hard! Not with Oli and his master digging skills on the case, it can’t be that hard indeed.

Pix raises an eyebrow, and gives a rather disbelieving huff. Which is bloody rude of him, that is. “All the way to bedrock?” He asks, playfully nudging Oli in the side. The blonde promptly ignores the way his skin seems to burn at the contact.

“Of course!” He says, the confidence very loud in his voice and also very false. He’s pretty sure he can’t get all that done in two hours, maybe a half of it if he’s lucky. And also fast enough. But he’d said he could, he’d committed. And Oli was nothing if not committed to all his bits. And he means all of them.

“Okay then, whatever you say.” Pix sounds greatly amused at his enthusiasm, and maybe even laughs a little bit. “I'll check up on you in an hour or so?” He asks, giving Oli an encouraging clap on the back. And a strong clap too, bloody hell.

“That sounds alright!” Oli confirms with a nod, and Pix gives him another string clap on the back. Once again, he ignores how he blushes and becomes pink at even the slightest contact. The two of them exchange a few words of goodbyes, and then Oli is descending into his friend’s hole, pickaxe in hand and ready to pay Pix back sufficiently; however long that may take. He did have quite a bit to dig, after all.

An hour later, Pix goes to check on Oli. Maybe remove him from his hole while he’s at it, depending on how much of the chunk he’d mined out. Maybe make him stay a bit longer, if Pix feels like he hasn’t been properly paid back. Not that’d he really do that, more so joke about it to see what his friend’s reaction would be. Other than whine and complain. The whining and complaining was guaranteed, It was, rather endearingly, the blonde’s favorite thing to do.

When he gets there, the chunk is not halfway done. Like it should be if Oli could truly do this in two hours, since half of that time is up. Instead only about a third of it is gone, and there’s still clearly a long way down to go. Pix shakes his head at that, a smile gracing his lips despite himself, and he goes to find wherever this fool is digging.

His friend isn’t in eyesight, but there is a small hole leading down. And by small he means like, two by two blocks small. He assumes this must be Oli’s method of digging, whatever it is, and that his friend is maybe hopefully down there. So he cups his hands over his mouth, and hopes his poor miner boy hasn’t gone missing by the time he yells down.

“Oli?” Pix calls down, able to hear his voice echo off the cave’s walls. It takes a moment for his friend to answer back, but his voice is loud and booming once he does.

“Pix! Has it been an hour already!” The blonde calls back up, his voice similarly echoing off the walls. He sounds just as cheery as when he started, if not significantly more worn out. Which serves him right, for all that misplaced confidence earlier, Pix thinks playfully.

“It has!” Pix responds, glad he was right, and that the blonde hadn’t vanished into the vortex that was his base. He didn’t want to add another, more human grave, to his tool graveyard. “You can come up now! You’ve paid me back enough!” He decides the poor guy has done enough digging already, especially under the midday sun, and that this is enough to let him go. Even if it’s so much less than he claimed he could dig.

“Great!” Oli calls back, a speck of his blonde hair now coming within eyesight. Good, he’s not too far down then. “Can I have some help getting outta here!?” That sounds like a bit of whining, something Pixl was fully expecting, and he prepared himself for some silly rant about how horrible his hole was or whatever when the blonde made it back into the open air.

“Of course! I’ll make a staircase!” The brunette calls back, giggling at the whoop of triumph that comes up from the mine. Though, rather comically, as soon as he starts digging the temporary staircase down, his shoe slips on some loose pebble or something. And Pix is sent plummeting straight down into his own hole; landing straight on his rear. There’s a shrill, startled scream, no doubt from the other person stuck down here, and Pix soon finds himself standing up rather disordented, and surrounded but nothing by walls of gray and the occasionally splash of color that is the man in front of him.

Oli makes a startled yelp when he stands, their chests now pressed firmly against each other. Pix is pretty startled as well, and also decently bruised from the fall. But it comes out as a small noise in the back of his throat, the other half of his brain focused on how…close he and Oli now are. How their bodies are flushed right against each other….how close their faces have ended up. It’s an effort to draw his thoughts away from that, to not stare, and refocus himself. Which he does, after probably a few awkward seconds of nothing, most likely. Oli blinks back up at him, all wide eyed like a little owl, and he just can’t help but poke a bit of fun at him in the moment.

“Pretty close there, aren’t we?” Pix says, teasingly. He’s still flustered, sure, but there’s a laugh bubbling up in his chest. Of course they would get stuck in this position, by some number of mistakes and coincidences. Only the two of them could, really.

“It’s a two by two space.” Oli mutters, all the usual spunk gone from his voice. It’s been replaced by something softer, something more embarrassed. One might even call him… flustered by their proximity. Pix feels himself go a little wide-eyed at the realization, and quickly tries to focus on something else; as a distraction. So at least one of them is composed enough to dig them out of here.

He fumbles with his hands for a moment, unsure of what to do with them. Naturally, there’s not a lot of wiggle room down here, leaving them in an uncomfortable position and not a lot of better options. Though, after a few seconds, he ended up placing them gently on Oli’s hips, not seeing a much better option than that. Even if it made their position a lot more…… intimate than it had already been before.

“Really? My hips?” Oli snorts, amused. And also blushing more, pretty noticeably too. Pix tries his hardest not to think about how cute that is, as he has been doing all day.

“It’s either that or I pin you to the wall.” Pix says, a small smirk forming on his face as he speaks. This is an awful predicament to tease the blonde in, but he really can’t help himself today. “Unless you're into that-”

Oli cuts him off with a shriek, one loud enough for anybody above ground to hear. “PIX!” His face looks like a tomato, that’s how red it is. The man is blushing so hard he’s gone and turned into a fruit. A pretty cute fruit, if you ask Pixl anyways.

The brunette can’t help the small laughing fit that hits him, all set off by the smallest of giggles bubbling past his lips. He laughs, again and again, until he’s giggling so hard he has to lean down and press their foreheads together. Oli stares up at him the whole time, seemingly mesmerized, all the way until Pix stops giggling. And when the brunette opens his eyes again, he’s met with starstruck hazel eyes and flushed cheeks, a sight that makes him feel starstruck right in return.

“You’re quite pretty, you know that?” Oli mutters, moving their faces a bit closer despite his embarrassment. His gaze is also not so discreetly flicking downwards, at a certain man’s lips. It’s getting very distracting, that's for sure, and putting a lot of thoughts in that certain someone’s head. Thoughts that you probably shouldn’t be thinking when stuck in a hole with your close friend who you’re maybe also a little into.

Pix feels himself go a little breathless at that, and a red flush starts to coat his own cheeks. “Thanks.” He mumbles, quiet, not needing to be any louder. They were now far too close for that, after all. There’s some sort of delicate peace settling over the two men as well, something warm and familiar, and he doesn’t particularly want to shatter it.

Oli presses bumps their noses together, hazel eyes meeting blue ones in quite the romantic moment, if Pix says so himself. “Are we about to kiss?” The blonde mutters, sounding a little cheeky when he does. A little proud of himself too. Pix wants to wipe that slightly smug look off his face, and can think of many ways to do it at the moment, in the position they're currently stuck in.

“If you want too..” He says, feeling a fond smile dance across his lips. Pix knows he wants to kiss Oli, has for some time now. And yet, despite all his friend’s blushing, is not sure if the feeling is mutual. Though he’s in luck today it seems, because Oli smiles back something warm, and the brunette thinks his heart melts instantly upon the sight of it, right then and there in the terrible two by two hole they're stuck in.

“Mm, good, because I do.” Oli mumbles, and then he’s hesitantly leaning forward the rest of the way. Pix decides to meet him in the middle best he can. Their lips crash together rather eagerly, and he tightens his grip on the blonde’s waist. In some attempt to move him closer, if that’s even possible anymore, of it every part of them that can be touching already is.

Pix hums into the kiss he's given, Oli’s hand cupping his cheek gently. It’s a pretty nice kiss by all standards, and especially by his own. The kiss tastes pleasantly sweet, like strawberries and sugary sakura. It’s what Pix imagines the color pink itself would taste like, if colors could be tasted. Which is fitting, since the man he’s kissing is dressed from head to toe in a light shade of the color, and built everything with it too.

When they pull away, the both of them are a little breathless. Oli looks up at him, incredibly fond as he catches his breath. A fond smile is undoubtedly stretched across his face, and he softly thumbs the brunette’s cheek. Pixl feels himself flush, and knows the look on his face is reflecting the same amount of fondness.

“So, how are we gonna get out of here?” He asks, leaning into the other’s hand. He barely resists the urge to twist his head, and place a delicate kiss on Oli’s palm. But he resists, mostly because he likes being held this way. Though he figures after today, there will be plenty of time to do that.

“I dunno…” Oli hums, feigning thoughtfulness for only a few seconds. He gets straight to what he wants pretty quickly, not being shy about it anymore. Though he’s still blushing like he is, and looking all cute while doing it. “….Do you wanna do that, or kiss me again?”

Pix also fakes thoughtfulness for a second, and hums as if considering his options. Even though he’d have to be insane to turn down that offer, and he’s pretty sure the blonde knows that as well. “I think I’ll be taking the second kiss.”

“Good choice.” Oli puffs, then goes to kiss him again. Pix smiles into it once more, no longer caring that they’re cramped in his hole together. Not when the man in front of him is this wonderful and pretty, and when the kisses he gives taste so sweet. The sweetest he thinks he’s ever had.

#ron.writing #ron.fic #olipix #oli theorionsound #pixlriffs #sos smp #mc sos #mcsos #i heart gay people #sos shipping

[thedo0zyslider]

Sacrifice - 3k Words

Donnie was quick to notice his brothers quirks, all of them, but Leo's manner of self-deprecating behavior ends up getting filed away, because everything always turns out okay in the end. Until the Kraang show up.

A03 Link

Over the years, Donnie ended up noting a lot of things about his dearest brothers. A natural byproduct of his analytical brain, of course. All four of them had their little quirks, some weirder than others, but quirks nonetheless. There was Raph’s rather obvious one of speaking in the third person, which had annoyed his younger self to no end. There was Mikey’s silly litter personas, who were always persistent but strangely helpful. Donatello himself even had his own quicks, ones his brothers would always be quick to point out.

And then there was one of Leo's quirks, one of his more concerning ones. He liked to joke about self sacrifice when the going got rough. Jokes of that manor, that self-hating humor were very common to hear from his twin, so much so that it was normal most of the time.

It was a more….concerning mannerism of Leo's, and Donnie always wondered if he should look into it. Try that feelings stuff Mikey is so big on. But the chance never came up, and the issue went slightly forgotten about for a while.

It was probably fine, and also entirely possibly one of their other siblings would mention it. He didn't know if Raph or Mikey noticed it, but surely they had! Surely they'd tried to talk to Leo about it! Donnie could already count three instances of said self-hating moments happening, ones where Leonardo basically told a villain to kill him instead of his brothers. Because that was perfectly normal behavior.

The first time was in the maze with that living minotaur statue. When Leo said he should take all the punishment because he cheated. Well, it probably wasn’t the first time, just the first time Donnie noticed. He had to wonder how many other times it had happened without any of them noticing. Though Donnie was sure to take note of it nearly every time after, now that he knew the jokes were even occurring.

Leo always acted as if these things were jokes when he made them, not meant to be taken seriously. If there was an sincerity behind it, the sentiment had probably been lost on Donatello and his..…lacking social and emotional conversation skills.

He cracked a joke similar to one of Leo’s own, the day they had gotten stuck in the sewers searching for Raph. They were just jokes, so it was surely okay for him to make a similar comment, surely. It didn’t seem like it was too impactful, so he’d made it and just moved on with his day.

Donnie had been trying to stay calm all day, the sudden change of plans having greatly upset him. So to avoid his whole mood being thrown off, he had acted as if nothing was wrong. It made him seem a little uncaring, and probably annoyed Leo to a certain degree; but it was better than one brother missing and another having a small breakdown at the same time.

Maybe that was what prompted him to make the joke, even if it was a little tasteless with hindsight. But still Leo had done nothing, other than give him an annoyed glance and move on with his day. Mikey, trying to regain his own sense of normalcy, similar to how Donnie was, had said nothing, and went ahead with the mission without any comment on it.

Leo makes the jokes two more times around all of them, in particularly dangerous situations too. And though he would like to, Donnie has only no real record of any other time the jokes were made, even when it was just the two of them. Maybe they were only made when the going got bad, he didn’t know. But boy did he want too.

The third time was on their beloved, yet tragically interrupted, little snow day. Leo had told that dastardly bear to take him, but a plan had been made instead. Like it always was. The fourth, and final time to Donnie’s knowledge, was when their weird fish-sister had worked with Splinter to teach them a lesson. But Leo was never in any real danger that time, so it didn’t register as a red flag. Or anything to be worried about ever, but hey, hindsight is twenty twenty. So the issue went slightly unforgotten once again, like it was always going to, because everything had turned out okay in the end. It always did.

Until the fight with the Kraang.

And here they were, both Donnie and Mikey being flung back in the air by a rather strong hit from the leader Kraang. With one snap, two of the four of them had been set hurtling away from the Technodrome, and their best shot at saving the whole world. Dammit. Though the alien's ship was heading back through the portal, they still needed to shove the leading Kraang and the rest of the army back though as well, a plan that was now thwarted by that stupidly cool suit the alien leader adorned.

Donnie turned in the air best he could, trying and failing to turn on his battle shell’s jetpacks. With how fast they were falling, he wasn't able to get a hold of the activation button. Or any of his shell’s activation buttons for the record, not just the one for the jetpack.

He cursed to himself, and decided to somehow turn his attention to Mikey while they fell. The fight had been pretty high in the air, leaving them with maybe a minute or less before they hit the ground. If his calculations were correct, that is, and hopefully they were. Not a lot of time to work with, but he'd worked with less before. This was fine, it was gonna be fine .

Donatello reached for his younger brother, both of them catching on falling debris in the air next to them. He let out a yelp of pain, arms still reaching for Mikey as god knows what hit and scraped him in the air. Not enough time, they were gonna fall and splat in the ground and both die to the Kraang, shit, shit, shit -

“Don't worry Donnie! This is not a hug, it's a rescue!” Raph’s voice suddenly filled the air, and before he knew it the oldest turtle had caught both of them in his mystic form. Donnie muffled a noise of surprise, not even caring how Raph’s arms wrapped around him. He appreciated the sentiment, but he would really rather a hug than falling to his untimely demise. So the rescue-hug gets a pass, especially because it was a very good barricade when the three of them finally did hit the ground below, and stopped him from going splat.

Raph’s mystic form vanished a few seconds after landing, leaving all three of them safely deposited in a large pile of rubble. Donnie lets out a groan, head and limbs still pounding with pain despite his rescue. Remind him to never fight aliens again. He sat up with a barely stifled grunt, looking around for his siblings. Mikey was beginning to stir himself, shaking a few loose debris away from his limbs. Raph sat in between them, a hand resting on his forehead in pain, and one of his eyes permanently shut. A nasty reminder of the day's previous events, one Donnie had to look away from after a few seconds.

“Where are we? Staten Island?” Raph asked, right as all three of them were taking in their surroundings. And it surely seemed like Staten Island to Donnie, judging by the shoreline's shape and the overall distance from edge to edge, that he could see anyways. Which, woohoo, Staten Island! Best piece of land to ever almost splat on! Not . A few feet away, Mikey made a face, and Donatello was glad to see that their condition didn’t affect any of the brothers' opinion of the island. That it was horrible.

“Oh gross.” He said, slowly but shakily getting to his feet. He needed to collect data fast, it would calm him down. And being panicked in the apocalypse isn’t a great idea per say. “So how would everyone rate that rescue experience? Unsatisfied? Very unsatisfied? Wish Donnie would have done it?” Though his brothers didn’t respond, Raph’s face one of stern unamusement and Mikey looking up at the sky in true horror, at the still receding ship. It seems they had noticed something Donnie hadn’t in his panic.

Unfortunately he couldn’t stay on his feet for long, and felt himself fall back to the ground before he realized what was happening. Either from the pain or what he was told next, Donatello didn’t know, and didn’t want to find out.

“Donnie,” Raph said, his voice more scared and broken than any of them had ever heard it; the sound breaking both his younger brothers in turn. “Leo's still up there.”

Donatello felt his stomach sink, and he quickly tore his gaze back up to the sky. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck . Leo was still up there with that….with that thing . His twin was still up there, all by himself, fighting that thing all by himself and probably getting destroyed. His brother was still up there, fighting to save the world, and Donnie had just left him alone to do it. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He tried to stand again, despite the pain, and a whole whirlwind of thoughts racing through his head. He was the smart one, the analytics guy, and he hadn’t noticed one of his brothers was missing!? Until it was pointed out to him, too!? He was the observant one, that was his whole job! What kind of brother , what kind of teammate , was he if he failed that!?

Before either of them could speak into their communicators, like they all so desperately wanted too, Leo’s voice came through first. The very first emotion was palpable relief, that he was alive and well enough to speak into the device. The second was fear, once the words finally processed in Donnie’s head.

“ Casey? Casey come in. ” Leo's voice was a little static-y over the communicator, but he sounded mostly okay. Maybe a little winded, but okay. For now anyways.

“Sensei, I'm here. And I've got eyes on the key. Just tell me when you're home free, and I'll pull the plug.” Cassy responded, also covered by a similar layer of static. Donnie would really need to fix up these things when they got home, that was for sure.

Leo’s voice came through again, calm and determined. “Casey, listen to me. When I get to the other side, you close that door”

Donnie felt his breath hitch and the words, his mix of guilt and whatever else had formed dissipating quickly. Instead it was replaced by a ball of fear, fear that spread across his whole body and felt strong enough to leave him paralyzed. He could hardly believe it, that Leo was seriously about to sacrifice himself. But unfortunately there was no time to process the words before they were already happening. Casey was also shocked, his next response coming out in a gasp. Beside Donnie, Raph said nothing, just stared down at his wrist in horror. Mikey simply made a muffled sound of what had to be terror.. “What? Sensei, no!”

“Casey, it's the only way. He's too strong. He's not gonna stay on the other side unless I keep him there.” Leo huffed, sounding like he had just taken another hit. Oh god, he was still up there fighting, while trying to save them all too.

“There has to be another way!” Casey’s voice was full of desperation, unwilling to lose his mentor a second time. And everything in Donnie’s soul was mirroring that feeling. He was not willing to lose his brother, if only he had stayed up there, or gotten Leo out with them…

“We tried everything, Case. This is the only way.” Donnie stared down at his wrist band hopelessly, trying to think of any way to stop this, to change Leo’s plans. There just had to be another way, there just had to be. There was never usually one possible outcome to a situation, not in his world. Donatello ran through all the options in his head faster than he thinks he ever has, desperate to find one thing they didn't try. Maybe the Kraang had a weakness they didn’t know, or had forgotten about. Maybe they could-

Raph’s voice cut into his panicked thoughts, now pleading into the communicator like he never pleaded before. “Leo! Please don’t do this! Leo!”

Leo chuckled, dry and humorless as his final response to his brothers. “You're one to talk, big bro. Hero moves are totally your style.” The communicator fell silent, just as the Kraang leader began to say something, and presumably to attack Donnie’s brother again. The bastard.

Donatello had continued to run through options in his head, barely paying that exchange any mind. And, for once, Leo was right. They had no other options. Leo was right instead of Donnie. And if his brother's life wasn’t in danger, Donnie would be frustrated that he was right in the end. Leo would love that Donnie had been wrong for once, and for the second time today too. His brother would’ve gloated about it and been smug for the next week, reminding Donnie of those two times he’d been wrong whenever he got something right, which was ninety-nine percent of the time.

Donnie was pulled out of his thoughts by Casey’s voice, and turned his attention back to his communicator once again. “Leo, please! I can't lose you again.”

Again. The words hit Donnie like a train. He was losing his brother, Raph and Mikey and April were losing a brother, Splinter was losing a son., and Casey was losing his mentor and father figure for the second time. “ Hey, future me would be real proud of you. I'm proud of you” Donnie wanted to say something, anything as he listened to the exchange, but couldn’t force his mouth to move. Even if it wasn’t really his moment, he wanted to say some last words to his twin. But his tongue tragically remained locked in place.

“Weak words, weak actions. I have forever known what you fail to understand. Strength always prevails.” Donnie’s heart sank in fear all over again as the voice of the leading Kraang could be heard. The creature that tried to kill him, tried to kill his brothers, and it was still up there with one of them. The alien that was trying to kill Leo right then and now, and Donnie wanted to do nothing but tear it limb from limb just at the mere thought of it.

“What you fail to understand is I missed on purpose” Leo remarked, sounding so cocky and sure of himself like he always did. He was the face man, after all. His voice was then directed back at the communicator, urgent. “Casey, close the portal now!”

“ What!?” The Kraang leader snarled, rage barely contained in his voice.The fight was still going on, but the communicator’s sound had gotten more broken up. Meaning the two of them had probably entered the prison dimension already, and it was too late to save Leonardo.

“No! Let go of me!” The Kraang snapped. Donnie had to wonder if the beast had realized what was happening, and was now being held back. Not like he would ever know, but still, a turtle could wonder in his newfound grief.

“Casey, please!” Leo begged, sounding more desperate than he ever had before. Almost like he was pleading, like he wanted this . And the rest of them could only guess that Casey listened, because there was no further response from either side..

That was the last thing Donnie heard before the communicator cut off, and his twin went into the portal forever. He looked up at the sky, and despite it being the logical outcome, watched in dismay as the technodrome went through into the Prison Dimension, and the portal closed, taking his brother with it. He looked at the sky and wished for his twin back so badly, regretting all those stupid little jokes he made before about just this. Even if they seemed so small back then, and now compared to the pain.

Donnie felt everything go numb, like the world had stopped moving just for them. He looked at Raph, part of him hoping to find some sort of comfort from the eldest like he so often did, like he always did when things had gone wrong before today. But Raph already had tears in his eyes, and was crouched on the ground with his fists balled tightly. Mikey was standing to Donnie’s right, seemingly despondent.

Donnie just stared at where the portal had been, not really seeing anything. He felt part of his soul, his very being, was taken through that portal with his brother. Leonardo was gone. He was too late, he couldn't protect his family and keep them safe with his tech and genius mind and Leo was gone. His twin, his other half, was taken away just like that. And he’d gone in willingly, too. Like he had wanted to die.

Donnie blinked a few times, feeling something warm and wet sliding down his cheek. He brought a hand to his face, and stared down numbly at the liquid on his fingers when he pulled it away. Oh . He was crying.

He hadn't cried in years.

And next thing, before he knew it, Mikey was making a damn mystic portal. He was crying his little eyes out, but he was making a portal. He was trying to save Leo, even though their brother should be dead. Mikey shouted something about not giving up on Leo, or any of his family, and strained his powers further. His hands and arms were cracking with dealy, golden light, yet he still made that portal.

Donnie grabbed onto one of Mikey’s shoulders without even thinking, while Raph held onto the other. They both said something, something that was in lost in the moment, and lended their brother the aid he needed.

And by golly it worked .

Leo came through the portal, landing in a heap on top of Mikey, and the portal was closed right in Kraang Primes's stupid ugly face . All four of them flew back a bit from the force of the closing portal, Leo right in the middle of them. He was beaten up pretty bad, but breathing. And that was all that mattered. He probably needed an ungodly amount of medical attention very quickly, but he didn’t die. He was still alive. And that was all that mattered.

Upon seeing his brother was alive, a lot of things lifted off Donnie’s shoulders. Some he didn't even know he'd been carrying. Grief, guilt, anger, and a whole bunch of other things in between. The confusing ball of feelings unknotted themselves, and Donatello thought he would have to hold back more tears.

Leo groaned, lifting his head up. Already, not even five minutes after being saved, there was a stupid grin on his face. “Ew, are we on Staten Island?” He said, head falling back against the ground nearly as fast as he had raised it. None of them could help the giggle that escaped them, and Raph couldn’t resist pulling all three of his brothers into a spine crushing hug.

Donnie huffed, feeling Leo’s presence next to him as they were squashed together in Raph’s arms. He was badly hurt and probably bleeding all over them, but he was alive. And nearly losing him had been the worst feeling ever, Donnie never wanted to feel like that again.

So yeah, no more self sacrifice jokes ever, ever again. Not from either of them.

#last rottmnt fic for a while #I do plan more writing more of them one day!!! #rise of the turtles #rise of the tmnt #rise leo #rise casey #rise donnie #rise mikey #rise raph #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt movie #rise of the tmnt movie #ron.fic #ron.writing

[thedo0zyslider]

Sail Out To See And Fall For Me - 2k words

Scott and Martyn have a handful a moments together, many of them happening on the seas, in a boat far to small for two people to comfortably sail in.

A03 Link

To Scott, the Kestrels are a weird faction. They’ve always seemed to have a rivalry of sorts with his own faction since…well as long as he’d been alive and longer probably. The two groups are always calling each other names, yelling out mean jabs when they pass each other in the streets, much more than either of them seemed to do to the other factions. It’s just always been that way, Scott supposes. So it’s a little surprising when there’s one Kestrel he finds himself drawn too. 

Most of the current Kestrels are fine, don’t get him wrong. Scott gets along with most of them, Sausage in particular. But at the end of the day they’re still Kestrels ; vain and money hungry. But one of them doesn;t seem to be that way, one of the newer members. 

Martyn’s a fun guy, very good at wordplay and puns, Scott notices rather quickly. He finds himself liking Martyn quite a bit, and very much enjoys expeditions with him. Whenever they get the chance to share a quest of course, not that Scott goes out of his way to explore with Martyn. No, not him. He would never . 

He thinks Martyn should’ve been a Heron instead, as he seems to enjoy adventure more than he does riches. But Martyn says he’s in the Kestrels to find a specific treasure, which he could do just as easily in the Herons, in Scott's totally humble and unbiased opinion. They discovered unique treasure all the time, it was like, their whole thing after all.

They have a lot of friendly adventures together, just the two of them, each one more fun than the last. The two pirates find stuff every time, but it’s never what Martyn’s looking for, so much so Scott has to look at Martyn and wonder if he even knows what he’s trying to find anymore; or if he lost it long ago. 

Scott finds himself looking at Martyn a lot on these expeditions actually, more than a normal amount probably. He doesn’t do it on purpose, half the time anyways. Martyn’s eyes are just very easy to get lost in whenever he talks. The fact that he’s showing so much skin doesn’t help either, or that his arms are on the more muscular side. 

On their next little quest the two of them end up leaning against the rails of Scott’s ship, waiting for night to fall on the island. They need monsters to actually emerge from the caves to slay them, but that’s a few hours off. So the two pirates have just been content to sit there and wait, making idle chatter and doing other things to pass the time. 

About two hours into waiting, when sunset must have been less than an hour away, Scott finds himself staring at a certain Kestrel again. Though this time instead of admiring his arms, Scott’s eyes are tracing over the scars that litter one of them. They’re very interesting scars, and he can’t help but be a little bit curious about where they came from. Anyone would be really, with the strange pattern they almost seemed to be in.  

“Hey Martyn?” He asks, tapping his fingers against said scars lining the other’s arm. The blonde just hummed, and gave him a quizzical look. Scott feels like the question he’s about to pop might be too personal, but also reasons he’s probably not the first person in the isles to inquire about it. 

“Why’re you tapping my scar?” The blonde asked with a small smile, amusement lining his tone. Scott smiles back at him. He’s quickly finding that he really likes it when Martyn smiles. 

“How’d you get this thing?” Scott questions, catching a glimpse of how the blonde’s face falls for a moment, and regret flashes through him. 

“If I said a tiger, would you believe me?” Martyn cracks a joke, a playful grin dancing on his lips. The sight of it makes Scott all warm and fuzzy inside, yet his response comes out quite deadpan. 

“No.” Martyn laughs and gives a cheeky smile at his response, and Scott elbows his side playfully. 

“You’re not gonna tell me, are you!?” The Heron exclaims, shoving Martyn playfully. He doesn’t do it too strongly, well aware he could very easily send his friend overboard. Martyn shows him back, but with a little more force. Scott laughs, gripping the side of the ship to keep him upright.  

“Nope!” Martyn cracks another cheeky smile, and Scott tries to send him overboard again. Somehow, the play fight escalates, and they end up falling onto the deck, tussling with each other like children do. Martyn wins in the end, pressing Scott to the floor. Scott makes an oof sound as the blonde basically lays on top of him, proclaiming his victory proudly. 

Scott just rolls his eyes, and any snarky retort he ever had dries up in his mouth as Martyn holds the side of his face gently. The Kestrel is looking down at him, and it’s a fond look, one that makes butterflies flutter wildly in Scott’s stomach. The blonde is beginning to chuckle again as he does so, not able to stop himself. Scott can't hold back his own laughter either, with how ridiculously this whole interaction has been. 

Martyn presses their foreheads together, laughing. It’s an infectious laugh, one of pure joy, and Scott can’t help but be infected by it. He laughs along with the Kestrel, admiring him in between giggles. Martyn’s laugh is loud and booming, a sound he enjoys hearing. The corners of his eyes crinkle whenever he smiles, and there’s a million other little details Scott notices as he stares up at the blonde. 

He’s quite the pretty man, Martyn is, and Scott isn’t surprised at how enamored he’s become with him. He’s not at all surprised that there is blush spreading across his face, or that his heart is beating rapidly in his chest. It’s just a shame really, that the man he’d fallen for had to be a Kestrel. 

__________________________________

The next time the topic of scars is brought up, they are on a ship again. Because all of their little moments seem to happen on one of their ships for some reason. There’s no play fighting this time, just more fleeting touches. Ya know, the usual stuff with them. 

They’ve just started to set sail, and the waves are calm. Calm enough for both of them to feel comfortable enough to anchor the ship and take a lunch break, both men having taking turns steering. They used to travel separately when they shared quests, but soon found using one boat was a lot less risky, more time efficient, and a hell of a lot less tiring for the both of them. And Scott was never one to complain about more time spent with pretty men again, even if the ships they have access to at the moment hap[pen to be rather small and cramped. They’re supposed to be getting ones soon, apparently, according to the merchants, and Scott will believe it when he sees it.

The two men are sitting by the mast, sharing some bread and pasta they’d remembered to pack, when Scott finds his eyes landing on Martyn's scars again. There’s two more that are visible, matching ones shaped like little stars under his eye and on his chest. As his gaze traces the marks, the Heron finds himself getting a probably bad idea, but he’s committing to it before he can think twice. Again, it’s a dumb idea, but all of this man's scars are interesting, the conversation has lapsed into comfortable silence, and Scott is feeling bold. 

Scott leans closer to his friend, eyes still fixed on his chest. Martyn, probably more than a little puzzled, just blinks at him dumbfoundedly for a good moment. Until he processes what exactly seems to be happening, that is, then the blonde’s heart rate starts to increase just a tiny little bit. 

Scott runs a finger along the scar on Martyn’s chest, gaze filled with curiosity. “How’d this one happen?” He asks, and before the blonde can answer he’s moving to trace the matching one under his eye. The Heron thinks he sees Martyn’s breath hitch a little, and definitely sees how he turns a little pink at the contact. Which he’s totally not smug about at all. 

“An accident. One I wouldn't like to talk about.” The Kestrel huffs, leaning into Scott’s hand. He fails to hide a smile at that, and also has to stop his eyes from flicking just a bit downwards. Scott had to stop himself from leaning in as well, and doing something absolutely stupid. Absentmindedly, while he tries to get a handle on his impulses, he starts to trace circles in Martyn’s cheek with his thumb, and makes the blonde turn beet red in the process. 

He wants to kiss Martyn. But Scott can’t kiss a Kestrel. What would his parents say? What would his Heron friends say?

So instead he moves away rather abruptly, and maybe sees a little bit of disappointment flash across Martyn’s face, before it's schooled into something more neutral.

After that they continued on with the quest like nothing had happened. They reach the island, complete their goal, and take any treasure they find. It's getting quite late by the time they finish, and Scott does not want to swim back to the boat in the dark. The ships have to be anchored a good amount of feet out, before the water gets too shallow, and there’s always some mighty big fish lying around, waiting to catch an unsuspecting sailor. 

The swimming back part is, very predictably, where everything goes wrong. Scott makes it back to the boat just fine, but the splashing from the both of them had made quite the scene apparently, and his little Kestrel friend wasn’t going to be as lucky as he had been.

“Martyn!” Scott calls, gripping the edge of the boat as tight as he can, eyes trained on a rather large shadow in the water. “There’s a thrasher!” He hears the Kestrel swear to himself upon his call, and then watches as he swims back faster. Scott can also see the thrasher swimming equally as fast, maybe faster, and wishes there was something he could do that wouldn’t endanger him. Well, he does have his gun, but it’s a few feet away in his bag, and the fish is getting far too close to Martyn for him to be uncomfortable firing it. 

Unfortunately, the fish is faster, and catches up with the blonde as soon as he reaches the boat. Scott had already moved down to help him up, and is grabbing wildly for his friend's hand before worse comes to worst. There's a blinding panic settling over him, both of them probably, and Scott isn’t even sure he’s grabbing at the right area before he feels something warm and distinctively not a fish tug on his arm.

Just as the thrasher is about to grab Martyn’s foot and drag him down, Scott manages to pull him onto the ship. There’s exclamations of alarm as the two tumble backwards, Scott landing on his back with a thump . They land on a heap on the deck, both men trembling in relief as the adrenaline wears off, and Scott catches his breath. He doesn’t even notice how he hugs the other closer to him for just a moment, arms wrapped around Martyn’s back protectively, before letting the shaking limbs fall against the ship’s wooden floor.  

Martyn had landed on top of Scott, and was now basically laying on him. The blonde paid that fact no mind, clearly trying to regan himself after the extremely near miss. He had an absent sort of look in his eyes, and his breathing was still a little quick. The Heron doesn’t know what is running through his friend’s head right now, be it fear or something else, but whatever it is isn’t good. The wide eyed look he currently has says as much. 

“Hey,” Scott muttered, voice gentle. “You okay?” He pushed the wet locks from Martyn’s face as he asked this, his hand ghosting over the other pirate's cheek for just a second. 

“Yeah, ‘M fine.” Martyn huffed a few seconds later. If he noticed the position they were in, he said nothing, and only rolled off Scott and onto the deck. Scott got up as well, letting the blonde sit down for a second before helping him back to his feet.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Scott asks with furrowed brows, steadying Martyn as he stands. The other seems a bit shaky on his feet, which makes his claims of being fine even less convincing than they were before. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Martyn insists again, and starts to move away and towards the sail. Scott stops him before he can go far, grabbing the Kestrel by his arm and pulling him back. Martyn just blinks at him like an idiot, and Scott wants to roll his eyes. 

“You’re shaking.” He points out, deadpan, nodding towards Martyn’s hands. The blonde looks down at them and seems to realize that yes, he is indeed shaking. That’s a concerning thing his body is doing at the moment. 

“Yeah, guess I am.” Martyn murmurs, and stops trying to move away. Instead he leans closer to Scott instead, and rests his head on Scott’s shoulder. The Heron smiles, and absentmindedly runs a hand though soft, blonde hair. “Sorry about this..” The blonde mutters, burying his head until Scott’s chest just a little. 

“It’s fine, really. It is.” Scott reassures him, and finds that Martyn is shaking less. The Kestrel is also leaning into his touch, and Scott really can’t stop himself from placing a comforting kiss on his friend’s forehead. 

“What was that for?” Martyn’s question comes out as more of a muffled giggle, head still buried comfortably against the ginger's chest. 

“Just want to kiss you is all.” Scott admits it quietly and very tentatively, and it kinda feels like he’s admitting to something sinful. Even though, logically, this is not a sin. Being in love is not sinful, but his brain has been hardwired to think otherwise. 

“You do?” The blonde pulls away a little to meet Scott’s gaze. His tone and expression are surprised, and maybe a little hopeful as well. Scott’s heart seems to melt at the sight.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He smiles, and knows there’s no holding back anymore. Because if he doesn’t do it now, Martyn is sure to make the first move in a minute or so. And Scott is not letting him have the victory, no siree, not after all that flirting he did today. 

“I-- Mmph !” Whatever the blonde was about to say was cut off by Scott smashing their lips together, doing so maybe a little frantically. It took a moment, but Martyn was soon kissing the Heron back with fervor. Hands went to cup his face, and the blonde quickly turned to putty in Scott’s hold. The ginger nipped at his bottom lip after a moment, and Martyn let the other’s tongue slip into his mouth with a held back whine.

 For a few fleeting moments, Scott didn’t care about what anyone would think, and let himself kiss this guy stupid. Just like he’d been wanting to do for weeks now. 

When they pull away both of them are gasping for air a little, Scott’s face turning a nice shade of pink. He brushes the messy hair out of Martyn’s face again, and smiles when the Kestrel leans into his touch. Their faces stay close, foreheads resting together, and Scott has never been happier. 

“I guess you fell for me a second time, huh Martyn?” He murmured teasingly, bumping their noses together. 

“Oh shut it!” The blonde huffed, tone laced with affection. He connected their lips for a second time, Scott melting into it as he continued to hold Martyn’s face. The second kiss was better than the first, and he couldn’t wait to dive back in for another when they finally reached the shore. 

#ron.fic #ron.writing #inthelittlewood #scott smajor #pirates smp #piratesshipping #mean gills #majorwood #smajor1995 #martyn inthelittlewood #hehe late night fic postin

[thedo0zyslider]

They all say Jimmy is bad at games. Death ones specifically.

Everyone teases him for it, makes him the bud of the joke for it. They make it hid whole thing whenever a new game starts. That he is just a canary. Always fated to die first. Always slated for tragedy and suffering. (They wouldn't do so if they were always the first ones to die, and bad to experience that pain and torture four times over. He's sure of it. Buts that's a thought for later, and also one he would not like to entertain. Dying first is not a suffefing he'd wish on anyone, and is more tha happy to keep taking it for all his friends. Jimmy is used to it now, after all, and has been since the second time. )

It used to both him, but now the blonde is just used to it. Now it has become routine, a part of these silly little things they do. It doesn't bother him anymore, and hasn't since the third game. He's long since accepted his fate.

He can deal with the comments about dying first, but the ones Jimmy hates the most are the ones calling him dumb. To be fair, they never really happen. His friends all know when they've gone to far, which he is thankful for.

But Jimmy is certain of one thing. That no matter how he acts, he is not stupid. No matter how much the game tries to tell him he is, he knows he is not.

Yes, he does have his dumb moments. They all do. Well, expect maybe Scott. That or just his dumb moments are more well hidden, because he's just like that. But still, most of the games players have their dumb moments.

And Jimmy’s are not entirely why he always dies first, even if his friends think they are. Sometimes they do cause it, but that is not wholly the reason. Even if his friends tease him and say they are. Almost insist that that is the truth and nothing but.

Have they ever considered that he just doesn't care to try? That he knows himself, and how clumsy he is. That he knows how frustrated he gets when he tries and fails, curse or no curse. So it's better to not get so upset, because even he'll make less mistakes, and preform better is he's not curing himself in his head alm the time.

And that not trying means it stings less then he dies. Even if it feels like he's now better at the game, maybe better enough to try and break the curse. Even if breaking it feels like the most impossible, the hardest task in the world. Not trying as hard always makes his inevitable failure sting a lot less then it would otherwise.

Jimmy enters Secret Life, looks at the Secret Keeper, and feels that inevitable sense of failure and the sting of it weighing down on him already. Especially with that goddamed symbol looming down over all of them.

But there is a small flame of hope stirring in his chest, like there always is at the start of these things. A flame that always promises more than it actually gives.

But maybe, just maybe. This game will be his. Maybe things will start to go up from here.

Maybe he won't die first, and this game can be his. Maybe this hope isn't so misplaced for once.

Maybe....

#jimmy solidarity #ron.writing #I had so much fun with this one #secret life #sl smp #traffic series #trafficblr #life series

[thedo0zyslider]

Taken (Far Away From Here) - Chapter One: Found You - 6k Words

Martyn's past finally catches up to him. Jimmy places himself right in the middle of it.

A03

Word is that, around midday, a bandit or two seem to be causing trouble in the middle of the mesa. At first, upon hearing the news, Jimmy just sighs. He figures it's probably Martyn again, attempting to do one of those wild west wagon heists he always tries to do. Or he's just fooling around and being stupid, another normal occurrence with the local bandit.

But then he hears that there are multiple bandits. Three at the least, maybe four, and he gets a little concerned. That is definitely not just Martyn. Martyn works solo, and he’s said as much to the Sheriff and any deputy he’d even had when they questioned him. He’d insisted on it fiercely.

So this way clearly something else, something that might actually be a real problem. Something he had to stop everything and deal with. He takes a moment to find his deputy before leaving, Rowan, the one who'd replaced a certain goblin. He tells her that if he's not back in an hour, to start looking for him. She agrees to it, and then the Sheriff is on his way out.

Jimmy gets out there, after about twenty or so minutes of riding his horse as fast as it will go. He knows he is nearby when he hears the sounds of shouting and a pretty bad scuffle. That’s when the Sheriff picks up the pace, panic starting to set into his bones. He thinks one of the voices is Martyn’s.

When he finally gets close enough to see the commotion, there are four people fighting. Well, more like three guys kicking the fourth, outnumbered on to the ground. The fourth that is the one yelling in pain and anger, the very man Jimmy seems to be on the hunt for. So he gets even closer, and starts yelling out to them when he is in earshot. Four heads turn at the sound, and before Jimmy knows it he is off his horse and right in the middle of the confrontation. The very situation part of him had been greatly hoping to avoid. But this time it seemed way more than worth it.

“Sheriff! Oh thank god!” Martyn says, his voice absolutely trembling with relief. He was indeed the bandit Jimmy had seen on the floor, being held down. There were three other criminals around him, all who looked pretty threatening in their own right. One was a man with a fair amount of scars littering his arms, and a shirt with ripped sleeves, revealing his tanned arms. He was the one holding Martyn down, seemingly as tight as he could.

Another bandit, one with very pale skin, white hair and a scar over his eye, as well as baggy clothes, took a warning step closer to the Sheriff. The last man, one with darker skin and curly hair, seemed to be the least aggressive. For right now at least. He just stood there, ready to step in when the situation required it. “You gotta help me man…” Martyn begged, giving each bandit around them a cautious glance. Glances that also seemed to hold fear as well, deep down in them, if you knew where to look for it. Like they would do worse than just hold him down, and the blonde bandit knew it with a kind of certainty.

Jimmy’s never really seen Martyn genuinely scared before. Not like this. An indicator the situation is far worse than he originally assumed then. A rather worrying indicator indeed. He took a cautious step forward, and one of them went to grab at Martyn’s collar in response. The blonde’s eyes widen a bit in fear at that, and he goes rigid.

“I’m sure we can all sort this out.” He says, holding his hands out in front of him. “Peacefully.” The Sheriff adds, his eyes darting to the man’s hold on Martyn. He’s hoping he isn’t making this worse, he hopes they aren’t going to hurt him. Not too badly at least. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if it comes to that.

He takes a few steps forwards, and Martyn is shoved harshly to the floor. The bandit lets out a pained cry as he is further injured, and Jimmy is pretty sure his tail lashes with rage and he sees nothing but pure, blood colored red.

“Hey now! Hey!” He barked, quickly grabbing for the handle of his gun. “Get your hands off him!” Jimmy took another step forward, and raised his weapon on warning. With hindsight, going on the offensive instantly was an admittedly horrible idea, and possibly the direct reason for what happens next. He does have a loaded gun, after all. And the legal power to get away with murder if he so desired.

Next thing he knew, the Sheriff was being hit on the back of the head. The white haired criminal had moved behind him, fast as the wind, and elbowed the blonde right in the back of his skull. He let out a yelp of pain, unbalanced, and a leg trips him up so he goes tumbling to the ground.

Martyn calls out his name, and it sounds like a small scuffle starts where he is. Jimmy, despite his spinning head, tries to prop himself up and feel around for his gun. He's kicked again in the sides, over and over again. While he tries to fend off the attacker, the Sheriff steals any glimpse of Martyn he can. Currently the other two seem to be holding him down and tying him up. Which is bad. Bad, bad, bad . Lord knows where they're gonna take him, what they're with him-

He yelps, another blow being delivered to his head. Martyn screams out his name again, more desperate and worried than he had been the first time. Jimmy can really only fight back a little, after having been taken so off guard. He never manages to get ahold of his gun or hat, both of which lie a few feet away from him, but the Sheriff does get in a few good hits. Enough to make his attacker.

A second one joins in however, and the world goes dark, the sounds of desperate cries ringing in the Sheriff's ears.

“Don’t touch him, don’t you dare! ” Martyn starts to scream again, futility kicking in thrashing against his binds. Fighting his captors the best he can, even trying to bite at any wayward limb that got within range. “Don’t you dare fucking touch him! Get off me! Get off!” He snarls, like a rabid animal, as if desperate to protect the Sheriff. The very man that's supposed to have arrested him long ago.

One of them--he can't see which bandit it is--starts to drag him away from the scene. Yet he still kicks against the cool floor of the mesa as he is dragged, hoping that will do something. He is mostly just kicking up dust, unfortunately for the both of them. “Jimmy! Sheriff!” Martyn yells, screams out. He sounds desperate and panicked even to his own ears.

He watches as the other two bandits give one last kick at the Sheriff’s form, helpless to stop as they did so. He screams and thrashes again and again and again, hoping to do something. If he screams loud enough maybe someone will hear, maybe they can save him, maybe they can help Jimmy. Maybe that new deputy he'd hired is on her way right now and can hear him, maybe backup is coming. If Jimmy wakes up right now maybe he can save him-

The bandit who's dragging him, by the shirt collar no less, suddenly jerks up himwards. Martyn’s cries are cut off by a pained sound, and he briefly worries that they're going to choke him and leave his body to rot in the middle of nowhere. He doesn't recognize this part of the mesa, not anymore, so they have taken him very far away from home already.

“Hush him up, please.” A familiar voice says, and they stop moving. It takes a few moments, but Martyn is able to recognize it as Skizz. His tone isn't harsh, but rather somber. And maybe even almost unwilling.

BigB is crouching in front of him before he knows it, with a cloth to tie around his mouth. He doesn't look happy about doing this, his eyes shining with sympathy for his old friend. So Martyn takes his chance to plead quietly.

“B please….” He nearly whispers out, right before the other puts the cloth over his mouth. He doesn't want the other to hear, but doesn’t care if they do. He's already fought like an animal, might as well beg like one too.

“Please don't do this.” The blonde feels his real fear slipping through, the mask he normally wears shattering into pieces. He can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't. He doesn't know what will happen if he does. Though he thinks he might die.

A sob threatens to leave him, and Martyn gives one last plea before he is silenced. BigB wears a look of pain on his face. “I don't wanna go back there.” The cloth is tied around his face regardless, but BigB does it half-heartedly. Like he doesn't want to be here almost as much as Martyn does.

Even with the cloth, and the extra binds they add to his limbs so he stops thrashing, Martyn still protests. But now they just come out as whimpers and honestly pathetic sounding cries. Some even panicked and were fearful. He didn't cry through, the blonde wouldn't, not in front of these people. Never in front of them ever again.

Yet his now weaker pleas and protests do nothing, and the lonely bandit is slowly but surely brought back to his old stomping grounds. At some point they get horses, and he endures the worst and bumpiest ride of his life.

A few hours later, when the sun is starting to set, they reach their destination. They've been moving for a while at least, because this was always very very far from where Tumble Town had sprung up. A cave system with buildings around and attached to it, a place Martyn hasn't laid eyes on in years; and thought he never would again. He is dragged into the cave, probably right towards that old dungeon they never quite had the chance to use before. Before today that is, probably. Hopefully. He doesn't know what his captors have been doing since they split, he just hopes it wasn't something far too insane.

Once they are underground, Etho shoves him off the horse, and watches his former friend fall helplessly. Like a fucking assshole . Martyn lands on the ground with a muffled cry of pain, falling on his arm awkwardly.

From what Martyn could see from the ground, Skizz gave Etho a punch on the arm and a pretty good scolding for that. BigB just sighed, and got down from his horse with a frown while his two allies bickered behind them. He gently tied the horse to the nearest rein, before turning back to the new prisoner.

He gently moved his old ally into a sitting position, offering a tight smile. Martyn would've tried to return it, if his mouth wasn't covered from view. BigB was honestly the only bandit he would let touch him, for his hands were still as kind as they had always been. And Etho was in a foul mood today, plus Skizz was known to be scarily loyal.

BigB slowly removes his half-hearted knot in the back of cloth, doing it quickly. Mainly because Etho and Skizz have stopped arguing and put their horses in their temporary spot as well, the two men's attention now back on their prionsser. And as soon as his old friend removes the cloth and steps away, the blonde immediately starts hurling threats and other such words you should not say to your kidnappers.

“I swear to god if you hurt him, I’ll rip your fucking throat out- ” Martyn growls, glaring up at his captors properly for the first time. The people he had once called friends. The thought of doing so right now made him truly sick to his stomach.

“Relax, he’s fine.” Etho cuts him off, calm and collected as ever. Annoyingly so, in fact, considering he’d just beat the living shit out of someone. “Just passed out.”

“That's not any fucking better.” Martyn spat, struggling against his ropes a bit more. Give him an hour or so and he could probably work his way out of these. He'd wormed his way out of worse predicaments over the years. Plus he was the guy who always tied the knots and picked the locks, back in the day.

“Just be quiet, please?” Was what Etho responded with. He turned to Skizz and BigB, as if Martyn did not matter at the moment. The blonde wanted to jump up and punch the living hell out of him so badly and it was so frustrating that he couldn't.

“B, can you take the horses up? I hate leaving ‘em down here for too long.” Etho asks, nodding to the other man. BigB nods, and quickly vanishes right back up the way they came. He seems to want to remove himself from this whole situation as fast as possible. Honestly, Martyn can’t really fault him for that. He wouldn’t wanna be here either, as either captor or captee.

“Do you want me to get Ren?” Skizz asks after a moment, when BigB is out of sight and earshot. Like he didn’t want his ally to hear that part, for whatever reason. Martyn cannot help but wonder what has changed and what has not since he’s been gone, and how much of that was his fault.

Etho just shook his head. “No, he'll show up when he wants to. I want you to take our prisoner to his cell.” He flicked his gaze back over to Martyn once more, as if he remembered that the blonde was there and on the floor. No emotion shown in his one good eye. All of Martyn’s insects were still screaming to give him a matching scar right there. “Take him to a cell, if we have one.”

“On it bossman!” Skizz said with a salute, and walked over to the prisoner. Martyn said nothing as he was nudged to his feet, and Etho disappeared somewhere else into the base; presumably to his room. Skizzle tied another rope to his upper arm, extra insurance that he wouldn’t book it, and started to lead him down to the cells. If they had any, because they barely did when Martyn had left. Their group was never fond of taking prisoners, except in extreme instances. And apparently the blonde himself was one of those extreme instances.

Martyn studied the walls as they walked, walls he had once knew very well. Walls that had once been his home for god knows how long. But they weren’t home anymore, hadn’t been in half a decade. And they never would be again. Now the walls felt slightly unknown to him, like strangers and ghosts of people he’d once known had come and claimed them. The blonde could feel himself getting almost mournful over the thought, too.

“Where is he?” Martyn asked quietly, following behind Skizz dutifully. Mainly because if he did try to run, the blonde knew he'd just get attacked again and maybe knocked out this time. Which he really doesn’t want right now, even if he would like to get a good hit on one of these guys before he goes.

“Either trying to wager with another crime boss, or getting wasted.” The man hummed, not even needing to ask who he was referring to. They both knew there was only one option, after all.

“He wanted me so badly but won't even show up to my kidnapping.” Martyn muttered, glaring at the familiar floor beneath him. Typical fucking Ren.

Skizz seemed to hold back a frustrated sigh when he spoke next, and tightened his grip on the rope he held. Way too tight, Martyn might add. “He's been a mess since you left, you know.”

“Oh yeah,” He snorted, his tone souring in an instant. Because his ex was the messed up one here. “Such a mess he spread rumors about me and fucked up my good name.” His good name in the criminal world, for the record; his name wasn't really known elsewhere. It had taken years to fix his reputation, years . It had stopped people from wanting to work with him and cost him god knows how much money. Safe to say, the blonde was still pretty bitter over it.

“Those rumors are forgotten now, man. Plus he was always drunk out of his mind-” Skizz argued back, quickening his pace. He probably didn’t want to talk about this conversion, but the topic was not going to be dropped anytime soon.

“You know that doesn't excuse him! I know you know better than that!” Maryn raised his voice suddenly, his ears flattering back in rising anger. Skizz would hate anyone else for doing that, but as soon as it’s his beloved leader it’s right and justified? Or he acts like it is? Fucking hypocritical bullshit, thats what that is.

“I-”

“Ren tells everyone I'm a cheating whore but it's okay because he’s drunk and heartbroken? Really? ” Martyn says, glaring at Skizz. The cheating whore rumor was the first one, and the one that stung the most. A few others followed after it, mostly about how Martyn was going to steal all his poor co-workers money and run. Which wasn’t true, because he didn’t even take half of the Red Army's money when he left! He only took enough to feed himself until he could get another gig.

The only way other criminals would work with him was if he told them the truth. If he told them all about Ren's crazy batshit plan and that he left before everything went wrong. And Martyn didn't want to do that, he didn't want to lie or reveal his ex-fiance’s plan to everyone before it happened. But his hand had been forced, and he liked having money to eat with.

He was also bitter about being called a cheating whore and a slut. (Even if getting wasted and sleeping around didn't help his image at all. But hey, unhealthy coping mechanisms. They get you when you least expect it.) So maybe revealing that stupid Bandit King plan was more satisfying than it should've been.

“….No, you're right.” “I guess I just…feel bad for him. I watched him lose his mind, literally, and he's still recovering.”

“Well I'm sorry he's mentally ill, but he still fucked my life up.” Martyn hisses, and his tail lashes against the ground with a loud thud as they stop. They are at the prison area now, and Skizz has to fumble with a key and unlock the door. Martyn gets the pleasure of remembering his stupid drinking problems that had spurred because of the rumors and the breakup, and how it had almost killed him. So excuse him if he's not very sympathetic to Ren, especially after he was fucking kidnapped by the man’s goons.

He thinks Ren was going insane while they were dating anyway. And that it wasn't entirely Martyn’s fault to begin with. They both came pre-packaged with all sorts of problems, after all.

“Well, that's something you both have in common then.” Skizz huffs, opening the door to his new cell. He shoves Martyn inside, his touch more gentle than he had been before. The blonde says nothing, and helplessly lets himself be chained to the ground. It’s not like him to be so hopeless, to give up so easily. Normally he would be fighting against the chains, screaming and making one hell of a fight. Maybe that shows just how much this place scares him now, how much it breaks him.

Skizz leaves him there, tied to the floor and with the vague promise of food, water, and bathroom breaks. (Because Martyn knows damn well they still have a working bathroom somewhere in this place) When the boss gets back, he says. Whatever time or day that may be. And if Ren isn’t wasted. A very good promise, reassuring too. Totally doesn’t make Martyn feel like he’s going to rot and die in this cell, like he’s some sort of scum. Like he didn’t help build this whole place from the dirt up, like he hadn’t been the bosses right hand man for so many years.

A few hours later, after a lot of shuffling around, no food, and trying to calculate and escape route; the door opens. The very man Martyn has been dreading to see the most walks in, and the blonde has to stop himself from doing…anything. He holds back any reaction, as their eyes meet through his ex-fiance’s sunglasses, and time seems to stop for a moment.

“Me hand, welcome home.” Ren says, his voice monotone. That old accent grades on Martyn’s ears, and he hates hearing it. It brings back far too many memories. The good and the bad, all the things of either that he would rather not remember. Even looking at the man has the same effect, because he’s in that old robe and cape again, goddammit .

When the blonde cannot muster any response, for his tongue is locked in place, the old king keeps talking. He’s about to go on one of his rants or speeches or whatever, something his snappy prisoner is not in the fucking mood for right now. Nor will he never, ever be again. "Not even gonna say hi to me, eh hand? That’s a shame.”

“I'm not calling you Mi Lord or whatever, for the record.” Martyn interrupts, glaring up at Ren. It was a weak glare, but it got how he was feeling across pretty well. The blonde thought he would say that, since the other was already bringing out those dumbass nicknames again. He thought so anyway. Ren just huffed, ignoring his comment as he continued on with his rant. Which was absolutely great and lovely .

“You’re with that Sheriff now, aren’t ye?” Ren said, his tail now lashing behind him as he spoke. Martyn preferred to watch it rather than his owner's face and whatever expression it might boast. “Gonna promise to marry him too?”

“Drop the fake accent, Ren.” Martyn hissed, trying not to flinch. Trying not to show how much that comment stung. He didn’t have to be such an ass during their first conversation in five years, now did he.

“Fine.” Ren huffed, his fists already balling up at his side. His tail gave an irritated flick as he spoke, and his ears twitched with the emotion occasionally as well. “But the damn Sheriff? Really?”

“You don't get a say in my life anymore! Not after this! ” The blonde spat, still glaring up at the dog with disgust. He didn’t get a say in his love life, not anymore. No one did anymore. He’ll date and mess around with whoever he wants to, thank you very much.

Ren makes a broad, questioning gesture with his arms. “This?”

“Yeah this! ” He spits again, kicking one of his boots against the ground in….some sort of gesture. He talks with his (currently tied up) hands normally, okay? “Kidnapping and tying me to the floor, that's a real good way to make me fall for you again.”

“Shut up!” Ren barks, his stupid accent slipping amongst the anger in his tone. Fucking finally. Martyn’s already tired of listening to it. “I'm not trying to get you back!”

“I think you are!” He snaps, struggling against his ropes again, the one on his legs and the ones holding him to the floor. He either needs to run out of here or punch this asshole, no in betweens right now.

“And why is that?” The brunette huffs, throwing his arms up in the air in what seems to be slight outrage. The blonde wouldn’t know, he can’t read this guy like a book. Not anymore, not like he used too. They were both far too bitter and jaded about each other for that nowadays.

Martyn rolled his eyes in frustration, his tail kicking up dust as it flicked behind him in annoyance. “Everytime I hear about you, you're trying to find me or something like that! You're obsessed!”

“Well I'm sorry for being so upset, after you proposed to me and ran off! ” Ren retorted, hands angrily being placed on his hips and his ears flattening back as he talked and talked and talked. “I'm just trying to get my old fiance back-”

“I'm not the same man you fell in love with, okay!? That man was going to kill you!” Martyn yelled out suddenly, his tail starting to lash behind him. His chest heaved with leftover emotion, and all the blonde wanted to do was sit and rot in his own misery. But no, Ren just had to barge in here and have the conversation. Because of course he did, he could never let Martyn have any peace, not anymore.

Ren stops his berating, and seems to blink in surprise at his outburst. “You were…?”

“Heh, yep. That was the plan.” The blonde said, a broken kind of laugh escaping him despite himself. God his old plan….how much it stung to remember and retell. “I was gonna let you get all rich and powerful, and be the Bandit King. And then I would kill you and take it all for myself. So I could win.”

He leaned his head back, so he didn't have to see Ren's face. Even if those dumb sunglasses still held his light blue eyes from view. “And I knew I could do it too.”

“So what changed?” The former king asked, quieter than he had been this whole time. The softness of his voice was so shocking, it seemed almost misplaced in the situation.

“Well, I cared more about the gold than my fiance. Figured if that was the case, then I didn't really love you as much as I believed I did.” Martyn said it simply. He'd basically figured out he was a piece of shit, and then Ren had probably deserved better than a man planning his murder. And he didn't know what else to do other than run. Nothing more, nothing less.

Ren growled again, going back to the original subject. He was growling a lot today, it seemed. The blonde must be pissing him off pretty bad for that. “But you love that goddamn Sheriff more than gold?”

“Yes.” He says, and that is the whole and honest truth. He hates that he still feels compelled to never lie to this guy. Stupid old undying loyalty of his.

“ Why. ” The brunette asks, almost commands. Maybe that long gone power is rushing back to his head right now. “He's not that great of a person, ya know.”

“Like you can talk.” Martyn mumbled, his gaze fixed on the cold stone floor below once again. His ex really can't, not after the last five years. He'd argue the both of them were just as bad, even with Jimmy’s…..questionable law bending and near irrational respect and anger issues taken into account.

“ Why. ” Ren repeats, demanding. He should know that his old flame isn't one for demands, and that still hasn't changed a single bit. Yet there he goes, demanding anyways.

“Why do you think I fell for you?” Martyn asked, somewhat rhetorically. He kinda genuinely wanted to know his ex's answer to that, just to see what he would say. Unfortunately, the brunette is not up for playing games right now. A crying shame, really.

“ Why. ” Ren repeated again, not caring for any of the blonde's games. Well then, if he wanted the real answer, he'll get that. Even if Martyn knows it's more likely to annoy him than satisfy whatever jealousy he has.

“Well he's handsome, for starters.” Martyn hummed casually. He looked out for the way Ren's ears flattened with slight annoyance, and any movement of his tail that indicated the feeling. “You want me to keep going?” He smirked, watching the deep frown stretching across his ex's face.

“No.” Ren huffs, clearly annoyed. .

“You asked.” The blonde shrugged nonchalantly. You get what you ask for, and Ren had asked for something he knew would make him mad. And now he's all worked up about it.

“What else have you done with him?” Ren pops the final question, seeming just as ready to be done with as Martyn is. It is a question he should not have asked, with some hindsight, but some that is out of nothing but pure curiosity. “Other than flirting, I mean.”

And for some reason, the blonde knew it would be wrong to lie about this one thing, or never mention it, so he said the worst thing he could possibly ever say in response. Like a fucking stupid idiot would, of course.

“…I sang the wedding song to him.” Martyn murmured, flinching before he even got a reaction to his words.

Ren growled loudly, and for a fleeting second, the blonde feared he would gain another bruise. Maybe worse. “Get out of my sight.”

“Dude, I'm chained to the floor.” Martyn retorted, risking the smallest of glances upwards. What he did see of the dog's face held nothing but probably justifiable anger. The blonde did not want to be in a room with him ever again, especially not right now. He knows how volatile Ren's anger can easily become.

Ren growled at the last sarcastic remark, and lashed his tail one more time at the comment. After that he practically stormed out of the room, the door slamming behind him. Once he is alone again, Martyn feels his shoulders slump and like he can finally breathe for the first time that day.

It’s gonna be a long few days, stuck on this stone cold floor and chains. And with whatever food he’ll be thrown. As he settles down for the day, curling up in on himself best he can, the blonde just hopes he can get a good night’s sleep; for the first night anyways. Before the ground really starts digging into his back.

His head hits the cold ground, and he is instantly missing the warmth of a good bed, and the man who usually shares it with him.

Jimmy groans as he comes too, covering his face with his hand. There’s light from somewhere, and it’s doing his pounding head no good. He scrunches up his nose, and tries to bury himself further into whatever soft pillow or blanket seems to be under him.

Wait. Why is there a blanket around him.

He was last in the mesa, not anywhere near civilization. Passed out on the ground with a head injury, amongst others. He should be waking up cold and bleeding, not warm and feeling relatively unscathed.

He sits up slowly, opening his eyes. The Sheriff was back in his room, at his house and in his bed. The covers are thrown over him, and he finds that a bandage has been placed upon his head. His outfit is still on, minus the hat and badge placed on his nightstand a few feet away. Judging by the light streaming in from his closed windows, it’s just now getting to be sunset. Meaning he’d been out for at least six hours, give or take one.

“Mornin’ Sheriff.” His deputy appears in the doorway to his bedroom, leaning against the frame. She’s changed out of her work clothes, and is now in a more casual but still western styled outfit. The jeans are still on though, Jimmy doesn't think he’s ever seen her without a pair of jeans, in and outside of work.

“Roxanne…?” He muttered, blinking a few times. Just to stop his vision from spinning, since it kinda was at the moment. “How did I get here?”

“I waited an hour, and you didn’t come back. So I went a looking, and found you knocked out and bleeding a little bit.” She said, taking a few steps further into the room. She walked towards one of the windows, and closed the curtains. She must’ve been able to sense that even the dim light of sunset was bothering him, and Jimmy silently thanked her.

“That’s why I have a bandage.” He muttered dumbly, staring at the other bandage that seemed to have spawned on his right arm and hand. Owie.

“So,” Roxanne said, leaning against the headboard, her arms crossed over her chest comfortably. “What happened out there?”

“Well, you know our usual bandit? The blonde one?” He asked, and his deputy nodded in conformation. It was a stupid question, because of course she knew who the town’s one main criminal was, but he still asked it anyways before continuing on. “Three other bandits came in, knocked me out and dragged him away.”

“You know what they look like?” Roxanne asked, her eyes wide. That’s the most shock she would show over the incident, even if it clearly did catch her off guard. It wasn’t like any of the local bandits to get the bold, or to tango with the Sheriff. They all knew better than that, which means these guys weren’t local. Which also meant they were big trouble, more often than not. Jimmy nods, his thoughts clearly elsewhere than the new criminals' appearances. “Yeah, yeah I can do the sketch for the wanted posters.”

They lapse into silence for a few moments, both of them thinking. One trying to wrap his head around the day, and what tragedy had befallen him. The other is thinking of ways to help out, what other things need to be done around town, and how to break some pretty bad and terrifying news to her boss. She decides to just rip the bandaid off after a few moments of pondering.

“There was also…this left at the tavern earlier.” Roxanne said after a few minutes of nothing, pulling a folded up piece of paper from her jean pocket. She handed it to the Sheriff a little reluctantly, as if she almost didn’t want him to read the notes contents. He doesn’t want himself to read it either, in all honesty. Jimmy guesses what the note is, and what it;s about as soon as his eyes land on it. He wishes it wasn’t real.

The Sheriff takes the piece of paper, unfolds it, and reads what is Martyn’s fucking ransom note.

Dear Jimmy, Sheriff of Tumble Town,

As you will probably come to know, we have taken your local bandit, one that you seem to be housing, hostage. The bandit has been an enemy of ours for years, and you have willingly been keeping him under your protection. As payment for such crimes, we have taken your town’s most beloved bartender as well. To get him back safely, we demand a payment of 500 gold. We are sure you can pay it, it's just a small amount to such a wealthy town, after all. And, well, if you don’t cough up the money…..then we are afraid there will be no more bartender.

You have two weeks to make the payment. Have it in before then, and all will be well. You’re smart enough to know what will happen if you don’t.

Signed, The Red King of The Red Army.

Jimmy just stares at the words for a second, almost taken aback by what he had just read. “They took Martyn.” He muttered quietly, not sure if Roxanne could hear it, the words somewhat being for her ears as well as his.

These bandits, this army, whoever they were, they clearly knew the bandit and the bartender were one in the same. They had to. They were covering for him, as well as holding him hostage for money and whatever revenge they wanted to enact. The plan was well researched, and well thought out. Meaning they had been hanging around the town, spying and disguised as normal people. They could’ve been anyone he’s spoken to over the last god knows how many days, maybe even weeks to months at this point.

The group of three, maybe now four, was a lot more dangerous than he had originally envisioned. The Sheriff has to wonder what Martyn did to wrong these people, for them to react so horribly. He wonders if he even wants to know what one could do to anger such a dangerous group of criminals like theirs..

“We need to search.” Jimmy says, finally tearing his eyes from the paper. He folds it up, and sets it down somewhere on the bed. Somewhere for him to find it and fret over later, when he is alone with nothing but his racing thoughts.

Roxannae just shook her head in reply, and went to pick up the ransom note. She knew what would come of leaving it around, it seemed. “Respectfully, sir, I don’t think you should make that search party.”

“Because it puts them in too much danger?” Jimmy guessed, holding back a sigh. He hated that his deputy had a point here. He wanted to find Martyn as soon as possible, and a search party was the most efficient way to do that in his mind.

“Yes.” She agrees, opening the drawer to his nightstand and slipping the note inside, before returning the drawer back to its original state and closing it. “You gonna save the bandit too, when you go to get him?”

“I can’t just leave a man there to die, innocent or not.” The Sheriff huffed, feeling his ears flick downwards in displeasure. She was unknowingly suggesting he leave Martyn to die back there, something Jimmy cannot even fathom doing in any circumstance.

“He steals from us all the time, sir.” Roxanne pointed out, being right again. His deputy is frustratingly good at that, being right when he’s not. That’s why she’s the deputy though, he supposes.

“That bandit is a man in need, and technically a part of our town. And I said I would help every citizen I need, every single one.” The blonde said, feeling his fists ball around the sheets under him as he spoke. “That’s a Sheriff duty, to serve and protect.”

“Well, if you say so, Sheriff.” Roxanne shrugged, knowing when her boss was not likely to budge on a matter. “I’ll get the wanted and missing posters up by noon tomorrow.” How she would do so without a drawing was beyond him, unless she was saving him making the sketches for the morning. Which the Sheriff was more than okay with right now. He was damn tired from the day’s excitement, and felt like he was barely hanging in there.

“Thank you, Roxanne.” He offers her the kindest smile he can muster in the moment, watching as his deputy takes a few steps towards the bedroom door.

“I already told you, just call me Roxy.” The deputy smiles back, and she would absolutely be tipping her hat at him if she was wearing it. Sadly though, that seems to have vanished with the rest of her work clothes a few hours before.

Jimmy felt his smile widen, it feels a little stronger than it just had a few seconds before, somehow. “Right, Roxy. Right.”

“Now you get some rest and food now before you pass out again.”Roxy says, already starting to take her leave as she speaks. “But take it easy for a few days, you hit your head pretty bad.” The door swing shuts behind her, and his partner in crime vanishes to supposedly go and do the rest of both their duties for the day, if she hast done so already,

“Yes ma’am!” He calls after his deputy, and flops back down in the red once more. He sighs as his injured head hits the pillow, and immediately feels like he is missing something. That something is off about the room.

Martyn had just shared this place with him the night prior, and should be stumbling in after a day of work in a few hours. If he so chooses that day, however.

There is a feeling, a longing, for the missing warmth that is normally beside him. A yearning deep in his soul for something that is his, that had been wrongfully taken from him. Something that the Sheriff so desperately wanted back.

Jimmy sighs again, and knows this is going to be a very, very long night.

#ron.fic #ron.writing #bandit au #inthelittlewood #jimmy solidarity #renthedog #ethoslab #bigbst4tz2 #skizzleman #trafficshipping #taken (fafh)

[thedo0zyslider]

Nothing Gold Can Stay - 10k Words

Nothing good and precious can last forever. And Scott has to learn that the hard way

A03 Link

“Nature’s first green is gold,”

“ Jimmy! ” Scott laughs, the poppies falling out of where they’d be carefully placed in his hair. His husband laid halfway on top of him in the grass, having pushed him down playfully just a moment or two earlier. He’d wanted to enjoy a quick, peaceful moment before even more chaos hits them, apparently, which seemed to include tackling his husband down into a flower field playfully. Jimmy laughs along with him, leaning down to pepper soft kisses across his cheeks, his neck and even all the way up to his forehead. Scott giggles softly for a few minutes longer, before he decides he’s tired of this and wants to be the one giving the kisses instead of receiving them.

“Get off me! You big oaf!” He smiles, lightly pushing his husband off him. Jimmy lets him do so, but stays pouting the whole time, giving him those sad puppy dog eyes he’s oh so good at giving. Scott subdues that face with a quick kiss to pouting lips, and Jimmy’s mouth twists into a small smile almost instantly. 

“You messed up my flowers, petal.” Scott points out gently, running his fingers over where the plants used to be in his hair. Jimmy hums a quiet apology at that, and scans the grass around the two of them, either looking for the old flowers or new ones to replace them in his husband's hair. Though since they live in a flower field, it is easier to find a newly bloomed pretty flower, and a few that are very obviously a little old and crushed.

Jimmy picks up the poppies that had fallen out once his eyes find them, doing so just as gently as he did everything else, if not gentler, sweeter. He messes with some of Scott’s hair as he tucks the flowers back into their previous spot, and pushes more blue locks out of the way once he finds new plants to adorn his husband with.

“There ya go, petal!” The blonde smiles, one of his warm hands still holding one of Scott’s cold cheeks. “We live in a flower field, I can always get you more!”

“I know. Thank you, dear.” Scott murmurs in response, Jimmy beginning to thumb circles against his skin. His husband smiles at him, smiles at how soft he goes at the slightest bit of affection. Scott beams under the warmth every single look, the warmth that every single gesture seems to hold. And once again he knows he loves this man with every inch of his soul.

Eventually, as they lounge around and do nothing productive, their positions shift, and Scott is now the one holding Jimmy. He runs his hands along his husband's features idly, admiring every bit of it. The blonde is still smiling, and every so often a small giggle slips past his lips. Each time, Scott presses a swift kiss somewhere to his face, and gets more and more fond chuckles from his beloved.

“Your eyes are so pretty, did I ever tell you that?” Scott says in the quiet, Jimmy’s face still clutched lovingly in his hands.

“No, you haven’t said it yet.” The blonde responds after a moment of thought, the sound coming out more of a hum than anything. Scott smiles at him, absolutely beaming, in a way that is normally oh so infectious for the both of them. “Well they are!” He places another peck on Jimmy’s cheek, and feels the other shift under him slightly. His husband gives him a return kiss, but there is a small frown making its way across his features. “....Even if they're yellow?” The way Jimmy asks it, the way he says the word yellow makes Scott frown in return. He says it like it is a bad thing, something to be ashamed of, and not a natural side effect of this world. Like it’s not something that everyone they know, including Scott himself, will eventually reach. 

He says it like it’s a reminder that he’s running out of time, during the peaceful moment that Jimmy himself requested, and that makes Scott worry. Because it is still early in the game, and there is still plenty of time, as far as he is concerned. So he just smiles at his husband, and reassures him. With four little words he reassures him that he still has time, and even if he didn’t, that Scott would not love him any less for it.

“Even if they’re yellow.”

“Her hardest hue to hold.”

Jimmy’s eyes do not stay yellow for long however, as the very next day he goes down to red. He is caught in an explosion along with Ren and Skizzleman, one he accidentally caused when trying to diffuse a trap. One set by their oh so lovely neighbors, Scar and Grian. Or the sand hippies, as some people were calling the two. 

Scott sits by his husband that evening, as Jimmy sulks in his cottage. He’d been there ever since he respawned, clearly quite upset by the day’s turn of events. The blonde hadn’t even returned to get his items, and had only acted slightly cheery when Grian and Scar came over afterwards. That was hours ago, and besides that Jimmy had only let out faint smiles at whatever joke Scott tried to crack and cheer him up with.

He’s fairly troubled by all this, Scott is. Because all the usual things that made Jimmy feel better hadn’t worked, and he’d barely touched his dinner too. The most he’d been able to do was sit there, and hope his presence was comforting. It has been an hour since their last whispered conversation, it’s getting quite late into the night, and Scott feels like a deep frown will be permanently etched into his skin as he tries to figure out what will work. This is such a unique thing to be upset by, so he’s not entirely sure what to even do without any words from his husband, without any idea of what's really going on in his birdies head.

A minute later, seemingly almost out of nowhere, a yellow wing wraps around him the quiet. Scott looks over, curious. Jimmy pulls him close, arms wrapping around his torso slowly. His frown disappears for the first time in a while, and he reaches around to ruffle his husband’s soft blonde hair best he can.

“You feeling better, sunshine?” Scott asks quietly, his voice so gentle compared to what’s going on inside his head.

“Kinda. Not really.” Jimmy mumbles into his shoulder, and Scott frowns again. 

Slowly, making sure the canary’s arms are still wrapped around him, Scott turns until he is face to face with his husband. “You wanna talk about it, petal?” He asks, tone gentle. Jimmy shakes his head no . And Scott respects it, and decides to maybe distract the canary from his thoughts with ramblings of other things.

“You’re eyes, they’re still pretty.” He hums, hands cupping the blonde’s warm cheeks and his thumb tracing circles into Jimmy’s soft skin. And it is those words that seem to make his husband crack the tiniest bit.

“Even if-” 

Scott cuts his husband off before he can even finish that sentence. “Even if they’re red. They’re still beautiful to me. You’re still beautiful to me.” I’m not going to leave you. Not now, not ever, even if you're red. Even if you try to stab me in the back.

Those words go unsaid, but are communicated nonetheless, because Scott has guessed that was one of his husbands worries a long time ago; when he had started to grow more…distant, physically, as a yellow life. Like he was scared he would hurt Scott, or that the latter would leave if he stayed too close. 

Yeah, like hell that was ever going to happen.

It takes a moment for Jimmy to respond, but when he does it's hushed and quiet, and it sounds like he’s on the verge of crying. “ Thanks… ” Jimmy whispers, voice cracking, and Scott can’t do anything but wrap his husband into the tightest hug he thinks he can manage and hold him there.

After that all of Jimmy’s worries come out of him, like those few words had broken through an overflowing dam. He babbles into Scott’s shoulder, tears starting to fall softly down his cheeks, going on and on about how guilty he felt. How that it was his fault Ren and Skizz had died. How’d he’d probably made newly formed Dogwarts hate the both of them. How he’s mad at himself for not being careful, for dying twice in one week because he was being stupid and taking risks and making Scott worry when he shouldn’t have too. 

Scott lets him ramble, until Jimmy seems to run out of horrible things to say about himself and the crying has sucked the breath from his lungs, and when it is over he starts muttering quiet reassurances. He tells his husband the truth, that everyone blamed Scar and Grian. That Martyn and Ren had blamed those two, and how he didn’t think Skizz was too upset over it. And that he thought Skizz couldn’t even hold a grudge in the first place, especially over an accident. Over a trap that most people would have failed at diffusing as well.

He tells Jimmy to stop being so harsh on himself, and that he’s going to worry no matter what the canary does and doesn’t do; especially if he keeps calling himself an idiot , or stupid , or worthless or anything of the sort. 

When Scott is done speaking, Jimmy sighs into the darkness, and pushes his tear stained cheek against Scott’s chest, Much like a cat would do. “I’m worried about dying again..” He mutters the words into blue fabric that is damp from his own tears, and Scott holds his husband closer than he thinks he ever has.

“We’ll just have to be more careful, then.” He mutters, almost whispers into the others hair, for he can feel Jimmy’s breathing start to slow and lighten. And he’s glad his husband has worn himself out, for some sleep will do him so good.

Jimmy mutters his final words of the night against Scott’s chest, his voice sleepy, and the words coming off as more of a joke than anything. Something more lighthearted than their earlier conversation, perhaps. “No more hanging around Grian? Or large groups of people? Or weirdly placed items?”

“Mhmm. Unless we can’t help it, of course.” Scott smiles, and closes his eyes, listening to his husband's steady breathing as he tries to get some shut eye, to sleep though whatever remains for the night, because they are probably going to need the energy come morning.

“Her early leaf’s a flower;”

The two of them are not as careful as they said they would be. Barely two weeks later they are making a stupid decision when Ren and Martyn show up at their doorstep. Well, they don’t really show up, they more so barge into the valley like they own it, which is the first thing that inclines Scott towards building the wall that will eventually protect their home.

The two of them present a banner, the Red Banner, as Ren calls it, and ask the two of them if they would like to be allies and join the army. The offer is very threatening, with one of them being red and with an axe clearly on his person. Martyn isn’t anymore friendly, hovering around his boss like an overprotective mother. Though Ren is at least trying to be sociable, despite the color of his name. 

Jimmy, apparently, does not take the offer as lightly as it was probably intended to be. He glares at Martyn, and that looks hold a million things Scott cannot fathom to understand. He looks at Martyn like he knows him, or he knows him somewhere else. And with everyone being unable to remember anything before the game, maybe Jimmy did. Maybe his husband knows Martyn better than almost anyone else here, and Scott isn’t such a fool to dismiss his sunshine’s instincts like that. Especially when his wings have started to fidget and twitch in the irritated manner they are now. 

The duo offers again, and Scott asks what would be in it for him. They offer enchanting, like they haven’t been doing so all game, and like the two of them don’t have a perfectly good enchanting and brewing area set up already. When Scott doesn’t respond, they offer for a third time, a little more pushy than before, and it’s what makes his canary snap; Jimmy’s wings puffed out fully now in ever growing agitation. 

“I know what’s gonna happen here, alright?!” Jimmy exclaims rather loudly, turning to face Scott and only Scott. He ignores their possible enemies in favor of facing him directly, and it's then he understands how desperate Jimmy is to get his point across, before he even really starts saying it too. “We’re gonna end up partnering up with them, you’re gonna end up on the altar— I’m gonna be looking you in the eyes and they’re gonna sacrifice you.”

 The blonde looks deep into his husband's eyes as he speaks, and Scott does the same. Jimmy’s red eyes are full of anger— anger at Ren and Martyn and the stupid war they're trying to make. They are also filled with love for him, concern for him, and it makes him more inclined to believe his husband’s seemingly baseless accusation.

“And I don’t want that, alright?” Jimmy’s voice softens with those words, and so does his expression. He goes to hold Scott’s hands in his, as if begging him to agree. Like he’s trying to make his partner see sense. 

And Scott takes one, fleeting glance at the two people behind them, and believes what Jimmy just said faster than he’s ever believed anything else in his life. It's the way Martyn’s eyes narrow at his husband’s words and the way his grip tightens on his sword; the one that had been idly resting against his hip the entire time. Like a threat, a threat showing what he could do to them at any moment. It’s the way that Ren cannot hide the irritated twitch of an ear and the switching of his tail and his unhappy gaze obscured by sunglasses that makes Scott believe.

He locks eyes with Martyn during that glance, and it's the moment the two have their long awaited answer. It's the moment when Scott’s expression hardens to something more off from the slightly bewildered one it had started as. He doesn’t know Ren well, neither of them do. He doesn’t know Martyn well either, not as much as Jimmy did somewhere else, and certainly not as much as Ren does right now, but he knows. 

He knows how they’re like. 

He knows that if Ren asked, Martyn would behead every ally they had on the same altar he’d beheaded his very own king on. Because he’d been crazy and devoted enough to break the rules and execute Ren in the first place. Because Ren had asked him to do that, and Martyn had done it despite everything . 

It’s that moment that makes him look back at Jimmy, and nod. And his husband's gaze becomes relieved, relieved that they're not going to have an argument over this, that Scott believes all his worried nonsense. Then Jimmy does the stupidest thing he’s ever done, and also the bravest. 

He turns, and sets the banner Ren had given them on fire. 

Ren yelps in surprise, Martyn unsheathes his sword as if on instinct. Jimmy glares at them, a rare, genuine one from him, and watches the banner burn some more. Scott takes a protective step in front of his husband. 

But no one attacks. Ren just growls, and motions for Martyn to put the weapon down. And as soon as the sword is back at the blonde’s side, the two are heading towards the valley’s exit, threats being yelled over their shoulders. Well mainly Ren’s shoulder, Martyn is just giving them a very effective death glare for the most part. 

“You’ll regret this day, Smajor!” Ren calls, unable to hold back a snarl. “You'll regret it!”

Martyn calls out one thing, and one thing only. “Watch your back, Tim!” Martyn gives a pointed glance at Scott, before continuing on. “Especially since it’s so vulnerable now!” He emphasizes the last part, like the man next to him is any any better of a position than Jimmy is currently, and Scott wants to punch him until his knuckles hurt. Because how dare he insinuate his husband is weak , or vulnerable , or anything of the sort. How dare he look at Scott and imply he needs to protect Jimmy, that Jimmy needs to be protected in order to survive.

He knows Martyn is probably doing it to get under his skin, he knows this . But Scott still wants to punch him, or deck Ren in the face, wants to show him who the vulnerable one really is. 

But he cannot do that, because he is green, it would be against the rules and put Jimmy and himself in danger, and because the two of them are gone. They have disappeared over the hill, taunts and all taken with them. 

Well, there’s one enemy made today. 

Beside him Jimmy waits for the whole Red Banner to burn, before putting out the fire. Scott just stands, and watches the spot where Ren and Martyn disappeared at, troubled.

Jimmy looks at him, and says nothing. He just puts an arm around Scott and holds him close. Scott leans into, head resting slightly above Jimmy’s chest, and closes his eyes for a minute. There is a new worry flooding over him, worry that they made a horrible choice, one that they couldn’t take back. Worry that Ren and whatever army he’s amassed, however big it is, will be on their doorsteps with swords and bows by morning. Worry that they are in danger. 

Jimmy places what is meant to be a comforting kiss into Scott’s cyan blue hair, before resting his chin on his forehead. It is there, Scott decides he needs to gather materials to build a wall. 

The next time someone shows up, it is a few days later, when Scott is building said wall. The duo this time is Scar and Grian, who respect the barrier he is making, and wait outside it until they are noticed. Even when the couple walks over, they do not step a single foot into the valley until they are invited into it. Scott knows it’s just being done to gain their trust, but he appreciates the respect nonetheless. 

“Scott, Timmy!” Scar greets them, Scott noticing how he’s picked up on Grian’s nickname for the canary beside him. “How are you two doing on this fine day?” Grian is standing close to him, another thing Scott notices, and looks like he’s trying to hold the red name’s hand just a little. 

“We’re doing well!” Jimmy smiles, wrapping a warm arm around Scott and pulling him close to his chest. “How have you two been?” Scott says nothing, just leans his head against Jimmy’s fuzzy sweater and watches the duo in front of them with undisguised curiosity. 

“We’ve been doing splendidly!” Scar responds cheerfully, in the voice he uses only when he’s trying to sell something. Scott’s only heard it a few times, but it’s a noticeable enough difference in his opinion. Or maybe that’s just his “crazy good hearing” , as Jimmy calls it, kicking in again, courtesy of his more pointed ears. 

Scar continued without hesitation, voice just as cheery. “We came to visit your lovely, lovely little valley here because someone has an offer to make you!” His red gaze flicks to Grian as he speaks, who seems to be hiding something behind his back. 

“Well then,” Scott speaks up, noting that one of Jimmy’s wings has wrapped around him as well. He doesn’t know if it’s a casual or a protective thing, but figures either option isn’t a bad one. “What’s you offer?”

“We want to make an alliance with you. An alliance against the Red Army.” Both of them go still at Grian’s words, and Scott has to keep himself from sparing a glance at Jimmy in favor of keeping his eyes focused on the duo in front of them.

“And what’s in it for us?” He asks, voice tentative as he decides to hear the two out. 

“Protection, access to our creeper farm, and this. ” On the last word, Grian pulls out a bucket. At first glance it seems like a regular old bucket of water, but on closer inspection Scott can see something swimming around inside. Something yellow and pointy looking. 

“I got two of them from a wandering trader,” The avian in front of them explains, handing the bucket of pufferish to them. “We have the other back at our base. It could be a….symbol of our allyship?” 

It’s a good offer, really it is. Scott feels his husband's wing twitch, with interest rather than annoyance this time, and gets the feeling that Jimmy has the same general idea as him. But he wants to make sure before deciding anything. 

Scott glances at Jimmy for his approval, since the two in front of them had been the reason he turned red. The last alliance had been up to his say in the end, so he was leaving this one up to Jimmy. He still trusted his husband’s judgment wholeheartedly after all, and knew it was returned all the same.

Jimmy takes a moment to consider, then gives his husband a small nod. Scott smiles at that, and slowly takes the bucket of pufferfish out of Grian’s hands and into his own. 

“You have a deal!” He smiles, and lends a hand out. Grian grabs it with a toothy looking grin, and shakes it rather vigorously. The two of them giggle at that, as Scott has to stop himself from dropping the poor pufferfish out of the bucket and killing their alliance symbol entirely. Beside them Jimmy and Scar do the same, though much less violently than their partners do.

It’s when the two turn to leave that things go a bit strange. Scar goes on his merry way after the two groups exchange their goodbye, assuming that Grian is behind him. But the avian stands there stiffly, watching, until his ally is out of hearing range. One of them goes to ask the sandy haired avian what the matter is, when he moves like lightning. 

Grian zones in on Scott, and grabs him firmly by the shoulders before Jimmy can move to intercept him. He's a little startled, but doesn't have time to pull the avian away before he starts speaking somewhat frantically. 

“Don’t trust him!” Grian says, voice desperate and his grip on Scott’s shoulder hard enough to hurt. Which it is currently doing, by the way. There’s going to be a nasty bruise where the other’s claw -like nails are currently digging in. 

“Who, Scar!?” Scott asks, winching at the tight hold on his shoulders. Jimmy makes a sound beside him, and fails to pull Grian off of his husband.

“Yes, Scar! Don’t trust him!” The parrot is desperate as he speaks, and there is some kind of desperate emotion in his eyes that Scott can’t quite place. Maybe it’s fear. “He’s going to kill everyone!”

“Grian?” Scar’s voice rings out before any of them can say anything, and the little avian promptly lets go of his shoulders, the whole exchange having gone far too fast for Scott’s brain to process anything

“Coming, Scar!” The tone Grian uses to respond to his ally is so cheery, so different from the one he’d had just moments before, and Scott has to wonder what exactly is going on in that desert.

Grian gives them one last meaningful glance after that, and then the two are gone. Scott leans against Jimmy once more, after they name their little gift the pufferish of peace and have a good laugh about it, feeling just as apprehensive and as horrible as he did when Ren and Martyn had left a few days prior.

“But only so an hour.”

They are with Scar and Grian in the desert, one of the next times they see the two, waiting for the plan they have made to finally be set in motion. According to Grian, who Scott is currently standing next too, they have maybe an hour. He’s not sure how the little bird knows that, but he’ll take his word for it. The desert has always known more about this war than the valley ever did, after all. In part because they helped start it, but that was besides the point for now.

The four of them move around, conversations being slipped between them casually and yelled across the dunes. Their two new allies had come up with a plan, and had invited the neighboring couple over to help. Scott and Jimmy weren’t ones for much violence, but they came over anyway, to do good on their alliance. Besides, it was a pretty good plan, Scott thought so anyway.

He and Grian were walking around, finishing up the finishing touches. Their partners were several feet behind them, by the bunker the two desert dwellers had built before they’d sent out the invitation. Scott liked that the two had come prepared when they presented the offer. He finished filling another hole with sand as he thought that, and turned to look over the pale yellow dunes. Aside from the remains of Monopoly Mountain in the distance, you can hardly tell there is anything wrong with the desert. You can hardly tell that there’s something currently amiss below their very feet. It’s both terrifying and exciting all at once.

Laying hidden under the sand there is TNT, and around the bunker Scar and Jimmy reside in there is a moat of lava, similarly disguised and ready to be activated at a button press. This is the plan Grian had proposed to them. The Bunker plan. The destruction of the desert, destruction they're going to lure their enemies right into, even at the risk of all four of their lives.

They are going to take out Dogwarts. They have set what is left of the desert to blow. And Scott can see the grief on its owner’s faces as clear as day. Rather selfishly, he is glad they are blowing up the already destroyed desert, and not his home, his beloved little flower valley that lays just over the hill. He hopes the fighting won’t ever reach that far. (He knows that is a foolish, unattainable hope, for their wall had already been burned because of nothing but pure red life instinct. But it was just the wall, so they can rebuild. They can always rebuild.)

He spares a glance at his communicator, and briefly wonders if he should shoot Cleo a message. Or Joel maybe. Just in case they need back up. After a moment Scott decides against it, fairly confident that Joel and the Crastle will come running if any death messages pop up. Neither of them live that far away, after all.

Grian is beside him suddenly, hands collapsed behind his back. Scott startles a little when the avian appears in his peripheral vision. “You seem nervous.” His ally notes, sharp eyes scanning over Scott's whole being. They’ve been friends for weeks now, and he still manages to be unsettled by the man beside him somehow. (It's probably the bloodlust in Grian’s eye, one that a green life should not have, one that he’s gotten by being around Scar so much. Or maybe Grian’s just like that normally. He wouldn't remember if he was, anyways, no one would.)

“How can you not be?” Scott asks, his gaze falling back to the bunker again. His gaze lands on the form of Jimmy for what feels like the millionth time, and he makes a mental note to steal one last kiss before the fighting starts.

Grian’s eyes follow Scott’s own. “I am.” He says, wing twitching behind him.

“You don’t show it.” Scott responds, his own eyes studying Grian this time. The avian doesn’t so much as shiver under his gaze. Which means he’s less intimating, or Grian just very good at hiding his fears. The second option seems far more likely. (Not to boost his own ego, but Scott is very aware of his skills and how good they reportedly are.)

Grian smiles when he next responds, and his ally is relieved that he seems to be showing emotion again. Other than bloodlust, which isn’t a fun emotion in the slightest. “I know.”

Scott hums, and decides to ask something he’s been curious about for a while. Since they’re both just standing there, being useless after all. “What is Scar to you, anyways? Since we seem to be done with our preparations.” He fights a rather impish smile off his face when he’s done speaking, and waits curiously for the avain’s reaction.

“Why…why do you ask?” It takes a minute for the words to process in Grian’s head, but once they do his friend stiffens ever so slightly. He also turns a light shade of pink, which is much more noticeable than his freezing up.

“Just wonderin’, have been for a while now.” Scott shrugs, and lets his honest answer slip out. He has a feeling lying to Grian about anything was a decently bad idea. “Kinda just assumed you were husbands, with how close you two always were.”

The avian narrows his eyes, and lets out a small, knowing sigh. “We act like you and Tim, don’t we?’

Scott finally lets his cheeky little smile slip out. “Yep, just a little. Cleo seems to think so anyways.” Grian just groans in response, and buries his very red face in his hands. The feathers on the side of his face curl inward as well, a sign that his friend is thoroughly embarrassed.

“You love him, don’t you?” Scott laughs, giving Grian a playful nudge. He’s glad for the pair, really, he is. The two of them are adorable together, them and their little crushes. (But not as cute as him and Jimmy, no that’s not possible)

“ Maybe. ” Grian manages out, his voice muffled by his hands still. He removes his face from them soon after, and takes a deep breath as the cool wind hits both their faces. If the wind whips up sand as well, Grian is way too used to it to care anymore. And Scott, well, he doesn’t like having sand everywhere on him, but he can deal with it for now he supposes. At least until the plan is done.

“Does he feel the same?” Scott asks another question, even though the answer to that one seems quite obvious to both of them. 

“ Yeah …obviously.” Grian said, glaring at him best he could manage. There wasn’t much menace behind that look, and his voice was far too fond to convey anything other than affection. Affection for that klutzy, forever shirtless red name behind them, still crouching in the bunker. The bunker that will soon be his and Jimmy’s lifeline, if all goes well. 

“Well, since you asked about my love life.” Grian says, teasingly, returning the earlier nudge his ally had given him. “What’s Timmy to you?”

Scott answers instantly, the words spilling out of him without thought. “He’s my world.” His tone goes soft suddenly, it goes genuine as well, and he can’t help but spare another glance in his sunshine's direction.

Grian snorts in response, light amusement dancing in his bird-like eyes.. “Figured you’d respond like that.”

“Then why’d you ask?” Scott says, absentmindedly fiddling with the poppies still placed in his hair. He knows the avian beside him sees, and hears his amused snort over it, but he doesn’t care much. For he loves the flowers, and the man who gave them to him. Besides messing with them has become an entirely unconscious thing he does, it’s not like Scott can just stop doing it, now can he?

“Because I can.” Grian gives his own cheeky smile in response, mirroring Scotts earlier expression, and they both divulge into a small fit of giggles. The avian’s wing puff out a bit, in what has to be joy, and Scott is glad. He’s so glad they’re bonding and laughing, because he has no idea what’s going to happen within the next hour. Has no idea which of them will be alive once the plan is done.

Once they’re done laughing like school girls, Jimmy is waving them over. Scott smiles once he sees that, and grabs Grian by the arm lightly. The avian squawks in protest as he is dragged over, yelling that he can walk for himself. Scott laughs, and doesn’t let go until they're all the way to the bunker again. 

He remembers that kiss he wanted to get, and figures now is as good a time as any to do so. Before the hour was up, while all four of them still had time.

“Then leaf subsides to leaf.”

When the hour finally comes, it goes horribly. Because the explosion kills no one, and the lava backfires, and there is now an entire army against the four of them. Scar and Jimmy are doing what they can from their bunker, but they have to stay in there, or someone will get the kill on them. Scott and Grian are out in a newly exploded desert, separated, and they fight and dodge arrows and try to at least kill one of their enemies. Ren or Martyn preferably, but that is not happening today.

Scott is sandwiched between Martyn himself and Etho when everything goes horribly, though Etho doesn't seem to be trying as hard as the blonde does. Things still go horribly regardless, because this plan was going terribly and they were all going to die in this stupid desert probably.

He dodges another swing from a sword, then turns his head back to the bunker, something in his body telling him to run to it; that something is wrong and he needs to go . He sees that Skizz is firing at it and something in him screams that he needs to go protect Jimmy and Martyn isn’t fucking letting him-

An arrow flies through the air, silent yet deadly, towards a figure with blonde hair that is catching the retreating sun. It’s the worst thing Scott thinks he’s ever seen. The bunker didn’t prevent anything.

There is a ding and buzz from his communicator, still buried in his back pocket. 

Scott thinks he screams.

He doesn’t scream for long though, because Martyn takes the moment as an opportunity to get the few final strikes in. Grian is slain just a few seconds before him, which does nothing to help the blind panic that is starting to consume him whole. Scar is the only one unharmed, and he is left alone in that battlefield, and Scott doesn’t even want to think about where Jimmy might be until he can see his husband's face again.

Him and Grian meet up after respawning, both absolutely frantic. All the words exchanged between them are worried and scrambling. They confirm each other are okay, and then it is a frantic search in the night for Scar. For Scar and for Jimmy. 

It is not a very long search, thankfully, or maybe unfortunately, because only one of their partners soon emerges from the trees.

Scar comes into view, and Scott reaches him before Grian can pull the taller into a hug like he so clearly wants to do. He runs over, almost crashing into the red lives’ chest as he grabs his shoulders and holds them, holding them tight enough to hurt and bruise and break something like Grian had first done to him when they had originally sealed this goddamned alliance. 

“Scar,” Scott asks, his voice quick and panicked and his eyes wide with fear. “Where’s Jimmy? Where is he, Scar, where is he? ” He’s alive, injured somewhere, he has to be . That chat message wasn’t real, it couldn't be, it couldn’t—

Scar’s face shifts into an expression of sadness, of loss, and Scott’s world starts to stop. What his friend says next shatters it entirely. “He’s gone, I…watched him go…” Scar’s voice is gentle as he speaks, as if it will lessen the way it warps Scott’s entire world. It doesn’t.

His grip on Scar’s shoulders loosen, and Scott doesn't even know his legs have given out until he feels the taller catch him, even then he barely registers it. Scar and Grian just light up the area, lower him to the ground, and sit pressed against his sides for as long as he needs it.

Scott doesn’t cry much, until Grian wraps a wing around him comfortingly, like Jimmy would always do, and then it is like someone has opened a floodgate. And he is crying and hyperventilating and he can’t fucking breath . He doesn’t even want to breathe because Jimmy is gone , his husband is dead and he couldn't save him. His husband is dead after he’d said they’d be careful, his sunshine is gone and dead and it is the Red Army’s fault. Someone-

Someone on that battlefield killed his husband. 

Scott lifts his head, doing so shakily because he's made himself lightheaded from all the waterworks. “Who killed him? Who did it?” In the back of his mind he knows, from that small glimpse of the death message he’d managed to catch, but he asks anyway. He wants to hear someone else say it, to know he is not wrong, he wants that person's name said aloud with the lines of they killed Jimmy and we are going to make them pay.

“...It was Skizz…” Scar mutters, and something in Scott hardens.

He has an enemy now, a real one. Not an enemy over some dumb banner burning, but an enemy who stole his sunshine. 

After that he stands, and says they need to go back. Scar and Grian say nothing, just follow their ally, their friend, as he leads a somber walk back to their home

The Red Army is still occupying the desert when they get there, looting their stuff. And Scott picks up the pace as soon as he realizes, because they are not looting his husband's stuff . Heads turn as his footsteps crunch into the sand, but no one attacks. The Army just watches as the trio silently approaches. There is a somber air around them, one slightly tinged with anger, and Scott can see Impulse and a few of his allies shifting in discomfort once they are in range of it.

“Where do you think you’re going!?” Martyn calls. “To the bunker? So you can get more TNT to blow us up with!?” He is met with stony silence from all of them, and that seems to catch the blonde off guard, because all three of their enemies are the type to reply with something witty, or rude even. And Scott would do the latter, if it felt like he wasn’t being choked by his emotions and his tongue wasn’t locked to the roof of his mouth in grief. 

“You’re going to let him pass.” Grian says after a moment, wings twitching in slight agitation. Scar stands behind his partner, silent and with the most threatening aura Scott has ever felt from his red named friend. Which is damn well impressive, because Scar has been downright terrifying for over half the game so far.

“ Why? ” Ren asks, sword ready at his side. Like he is going to use it any more tonight.

“Jimmy is dead in the bunker, that’s why.” Silence falls as Grian speaks for him again. Scott says nothing still, just glares pointed daggers at Skizz. They all know Jimmy is back there, probably, considering that they have started looting, and they are going to be damned if they do not let him through.

“And why should we?” Martyn challenges, standing beside Ren as he always is, a sight Scott is now learning to hate as much as the two people beside him do. Ren glances at him, and he sure hopes it's a disappointed one. Because letting a man not get his husband’s body is pretty fucked up, even for these guys.

“You don’t own the damned desert, Martyn. Get off your high horse and let us pass.” Grian spats, venom icing his tone. His sword is out now, the avian’s fingers fiddling with the handle. It’s clear that if this continues on any longer Grian will be attacking them; even if it is stupid and will probably get him killed.

Scar backs his partner up, his own sword now in his hand and matching the Red King across from them. “Who's sand do you think you're standing on right now?” He is met with no response, for whatever reason, and their enemies do not move either. Scott is going to have to make them move then, one way or another.

“Who’s husband do you think is dead behind you?” He speaks into the surrounding silence, voice more raspy than he’d expected it to be. A very clear indicator that he’d probably been crying, if his slightly puffy eyes hadn’t already been enough. The whole world seems to freeze with those words, and Martyn backs down. 

“Let them pass, for god’s sake!” Skizz mutters, and drags his King and the Hand off to the side with the rest of them, who let them be moved easily. Scott doesn’t even give him a thanks, or any sort of acknowledgement as he walks forward.

When he passes Ren, Scott speaks again, for the final time that night in fact. “Remember how you said I’d regret that day? Well I do.” The Red King responds with nothing, but his ears are perked with what has to be intrigue. 

“I regret not killing you when I had the chance.” 

Someone, Martyn probably, tries to get in front of him. Tries to attack him mostly likely, but Scott doesn’t care. He just shoves his way past, and walks towards the bunker. The only footsteps behind him after that are the familiar, distinctive ones of Grian and Scar. The Red Army decides to leave before they emerge from the bunker for the final time.

He carries Jimmy’s body back home and buries it atop the hill in the flower valley. He places down a headstone as well, and spends hours engraving a few words into the smooth, cold cobblestone. Words that mean everything, yet couldn’t describe everything inside him all at once. Nothing can.

Here lies Jimmy, beloved husband.

Scott reads those words, places a poppy in the grass atop the grave, and goes to visit where the pufferish of peace once stayed. Before Martyn and Ren had fucking stolen it, like they were trying to take everything he cared about.

“So Eden sank to grief,”

Scott spent the next few days, weeks even, hell the rest of the goddam game probably, in a fog of grief. A never ending fog, one that would never leave, no matter what he did to ease it. It never lessened or wavered for even a second, always persistent. Like a new constant in his life, just one that wasn’t the most welcomed.

The valley feels lifeless and empty, now that only one person inhabits it. A house lies unlived in and unkempt right across from his, a house that Scott can barely stomach to look at most of the time. Looking at it just makes his fog even worse, and so does thinking about it. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to enter that house ever again, even if part of him does want to make sure its in good condition. A condition Jim—his sunshine would’ve liked.

Sometimes even saying his name hurts too much, so sunshine and petal will have to do. They never lessen the fog either, none of those words do. Everything seems to make it worse.

No one really visits after the battle in the desert, and he only sees people in passing. Only sees glimpses of them walking by in the woods, or small run ins when he himself needs to leave his home for something. And being alone so much gives him plenty of time to think, especially about certain people and how he feels about them. About a certain army and a certain soldier in particular. The one that took his sunshine away.

Scott looks at Skizz and wants to splatter his blood across the sand. He wants to tear him limb from limb until even the Red Army cannot fucking recognize his corpse anymore. He doesn’t know if it’s the yellow life, the grief, or if he is just becoming a red name early like Grian had. Not that he cares or minds whatever the reason is at all.

He has never felt like that, even when Joel had burned their beloved wall, even when anyone else in the world had harmed them, he had never felt an urge so violent. It’s terrifying, if he thinks about it too hard. It’s what grief can do to a person, even one who used to be as peaceful as Scott once was. 

It’s what grief can do to anyone. And right now it’s fucking beautiful. 

And Scott is going to lean into it. He is going to make sure people pay for what they took from him. Because he didn’t deserve this. Jimmy didn’t deserve it. They didn't deserve this. Jimmy had been lovely, he had been sunshine itself, he had never wronged anyone past maybe being a mild annoyance. And he was dead. The war killed him, they killed him. Skizz killed him. 

And the army was going to fucking pay, because Scott was going to let his anger and his grief consume him until even Cleo, his future widowed ally, couldn’t recognize him anymore. He’s not even sure Jimmy would either, but that’s okay, because this is all for him.

He doesn’t think of what Jimmy would want, doesn’t think of how he would want him to live, how he knows he would, because it does not matter. Because they are all going to die anyway, and Scott is going to go out fighting for the one thing he ever had in this world, even if the said thing is long gone.

He is going to make them pay for what they did to them. But he will have to wait for that, because the days pass slowly, and unless an ally needs him, he rarely leaves the valley nowadays. And the only visits he gets after the bunker are ones of pity and sorrow. If he gets any at all anymore.

Yet before the visits start to slowly roll in, Scott croches in front of his husband's grave for what must be the millionth time already. He ghosts his hands over the flowers that had been laying there a while, before placing some new, fresher ones down alongside them. He placed poppies into the grass this time, as he always did. But today Scott added a few tulips as well. He placed a small bouquet of them, of all the ones he could find nearby; the red, orange, pink and white ones that had always surrounded their home. Jimmy had always said he was quite fond of the tulips as well, even if the poppy was their flower in the end. 

To his delight, plenty of more flowers would be added to the grave in the coming days. Ones that his petal would’ve adored, he just knows it. Especially since they were such considerate and heartfelt gifts.

Grian and Scar are the first to come and visit after the bunker. They are the only ones to see Jimmy’s grave as well. They come over, Grian clutching a bouquet in his hands and Scar having a comforting arm wrapped around the avian's shoulder. 

They are holding a bouquet of lilacs and poppies. 

Scott smiles, says they’re beautiful that he would’ve loved them, and leaves his friends to the hill where his husband is buried. The two of them barely speak a word during the visit, and Scott does not mind at all, because it feels like he can barely speak himself these days.

They set the flowers down in front of the tombstone, and sit in front of it for hours in mourning.

He can sense that they feel responsible for what happened, as he did die in their bunker after all. However Scott does not blame them. For there is one group and one man alone he blames, and will not stop blaming until he too is buried in the ground. If he ever gets the luxury. So he sits beside his bestest allies and shares his grief with the only two people who could possibly begin to understand it. 

It is not enough. It will never be enough.

The next one to visit is Joel. It is a quick, awkward visit, but Scott doesn’t mind. He appreciates the sentiment regardless. Especially from Joel. It means a lot that someone like him would go out of his way to do this. They had never been on the best of terms, after all, with the whole wall burning incident and everything.

The brunette stands at the entrance of the wall, his pose unsure. Which is a little unusual, because Joel is sure of himself most of the time. At least he pretends to be. In his hands are a small bouquet of flowers, pink and large ones, with a messy tied ribbon wrapped around the stems. The bouquet was one of peonies, flowers that were.’t by the other's house, if Scott recalled correctly. Meaning he must’ve gone out of his way to find some unique flowers. Ones that they weren’t likely to have in the flower valley. That was…so surprisingly sweet of him. And considerate.

“Here,” Joel says, a little awkward. “For Jim.” He holds the flowers out, his grip seemingly iron tight on the plants, and Scott reaches out to take them. He holds the poor flowers more gently than Joel does, and smiles at him softly. The brunette tries to return said smile, but it comes out rather unsure still, just like the rest of his behavior was. He can still appreciate the sentiment regardless.

“Thank you.” Scott says, and turns away. He gestures for Joel to follow him. The shorter man does so, if only a little reluctantly. The two of them walk silently, Scott in front and Joel a few paces behind him, walking through the ever growing fields of flowers. One of the few well kept parts of the valley nowadays. They walk together, all the way to the top of the hill. Right where the grave rests.

Scott crouches down, setting the flowers next to the now days old tulips. Joel goes to stand beside him for the first time all day, and crouches down as well. Scott backs away, and decides to leave him to it. The brunette is not there for long, muttering quiet words and condolences for a few minutes. He sits there in silence for a little while after that, and Scott can only wonder what is running through that man's head as he does so. Then he quietly waves goodbye, and Scott lets him slip back away into the forest; more than content with his quiet respectfulness and mourning. That seems to be his way of grieving, after all, and they are not particularly close.

He goes to tend to some flowers, and slowly waits for more people to flow in. When and if they do, though it seems like more are planning on doing so. And he is proven right in the coming days, and from what he already might’ve known beforehand.

Cleo was going to stop by at some point, she’d said, to give him her sympathies. She is dead before they can, a few days after Jimmy goes in fact, and with that the Widows Alliance falls apart. Scott takes a day to mourn her alongside his sunshine.

Bdubs shows up instead, a few days after his partner's death. There are azure bluet’s and cornflowers clutched in his trembling hands. He holds them tightly, so much so that Scott feels the stems will snap right in half. But he understands what the other is feeling entirely, and knows the emotions that have to be swamping him. It’s okay if the stems do end up breaking.

“They, ah….they wanted to bring you the cornflowers but…” Bdubs says once Scott has walked over to him, thrusting the flowers towards the blue haired man. He barely meets the others eyes, his gaze watery. Scott smiles, and gently takes the plants from him. He holds them gently in his hands, a slight smile stretching across his face.

“Thank you for bringing them instead.” Scott says softly. Bdubs just nods, and takes a few steps back. Like he’s invading, or not meant to be there. He feels like he can’t take these without giving something back, not after his bond with Cleo. Not after their alliance. It wouldn’t feel right. So Scott motions for Bdubs to stay, which he does, somewhat curiously and also somewhat nervously. He walks a few feet away, and scans the flowers on the grass below. There has to be something suitable enough for him to give back.

Scott finds some spare blue orchid he had lying around, and presents them to Bdubs. The other man looks at him confused, and begins to shake his head. As if to say no, I don’t want them and keep them for Jimmy’s grave . He frowns at that, and holds the flowers out still, and the same wide, confused eyes continue to stare back at him.

“Here,” Scott says gently, pushing the plants into Bdubs’ grasp. “For Cleo. They remind me of the ones in her hair.” 

“....Thanks.” Bdubs mutters, finally taking the flowers. He holds them just as tightly as he had held the ones for Jimmy. 

“No Problem.” He says, and hesitantly goes to give the shorter a side hug. They’re not very close, the two of them, but Scott can guess what his friend is currently going through. He knows more than anyone how much a simple hug can do, or what it could’ve done, when the pain is still fresh and your emotional wounds are still bleeding heavy.

Bdubs crashes instantly, like he has been holding back everything, all his emotions for so long. Scott finds it not hard to believe that he is, knowing how intense the grief of losing that special person always is. “How she died was so stupid…” He mutters, doing so halfway into Scotts side. The other just makes an empathetic sound, remembering all his own pain from before. The pain he still had, that still lingered and haunted his every waking thought. The fog that never quite left him.

“She was brave, though.” He says, being honest about it. He hadn’t exactly been there due to his self imposed isolation, but he had heard the stories. Cleo had lost her yellow life, then bravely charged back into battle, seeing red. She was dead quickly, but she fought valiantly against the Red King and his horrible army. Scott mourned her and her honorable death deeply, almost as much he he mourned his sunshine’s tragic one.

“....Yeah…” Bdubs’ agrees, and then the moment is over just as quickly as it started. They both move away, the hug having gone on far too long. They had never been that close, and probably never would be. As the other goes to leave, Scott takes this moment to walk with him just a little bit of the way. A rare moment of him exiting the valley these days. They walk halfway back to the Crastle together, grieving for their fallen loved ones and for each other, doing so in silence the whole way back. It is one of the last nice walks, or nice moments with Bdubs’, Scott will ever find himself having.

The rest of the Crastle follows soon after Bdubs’ visit. Including Impulse, the alleged double agent. Who Scott barely trusts at all, for the record. But he comes to the valley with Tango, who Scott trusts a bit more. So he supposes it’s okay, and that they can be trusted. Tango has almost always been with the Crastle after all, and got along quite well with his sunshine when they did speak. So he won’t betray him. Surely not, no.

Both men are allowed to visit the grave, each bringing a flower of their own. Tango brings alliums, a gesture of goodwill and grace. Impulse brings sunflowers, explaining its because of Scott’s nickname for his late husband. Sunshine. And that the flowers always face the sun, and subsequently the light that shines from it. Therefore, they are always facing and basking in the sunshine.

Scott smiles, touched, and lets them place their flowers on the grave. And also pay their respects. The two leave soon after that, waving quiet goodbyes. He does not trust Impulse any more than he did before, but its nice to know that he has more heart than the rest of his monstrous army and fellow soldiers. The very soldiers that are the next ones to show up at his wall’s entrance. The scum they are.

The Red Army shows up slowly, hesitantly. As they should, because Scott is not afraid to fight or chase them away. He is not afraid to die trying either. Anything if it will take one of them down. They are the only visitors to never be allowed to see the grave, some even are not allowed to enter his home. Some respect that, even if they clearly want to do or say more. (Like how Martyn clearly wants to go and see the grave, for whatever reason, so much so that Ren has to basically hold him back.) But they don’t press. They have learned not to mess with a grieving man after the last night they all met.

The King and his Hand show up together, much less hostile than their first and last joint vist to the valley. Ren gives him roses, Martyn hands him oxeye daisies. The blonde also implies he wants to see the grave, but Scott will not let him. He does not trust those two monsters in a place so dear to him. Never has, and never will. Ren mutters his condolences, then drags him and his partner away back into the woods. 

The next time the three will meet will be in battle, and it will be the final meeting too.

Etho shows up next, one bouquet of flowers in each of his hands. One he says is a personal gift, blue orchids form his very own swamp and his very own base. The ones that hadn't been burned by Scar and his pyromaniac tendencies, that is. The other is a bunch of lilies of the valleys. He says Skizz wanted to give it to him, for forgiveness or something, but knew it would be a bad idea to show up himself. So Etho is now the little messenger boy.

Scott takes the lilies reluctantly, almost scowling at them. Etho slips back away into the shadows as soon as he can, correctly sensing that departing is better for his safety. It’s better that he did so, and that Skizz never came in the first place. Because he would be dead on sight if he did, no questions asked, not buts about it. He puts the orchids directly on the grave, and puts the lilies of the valleys just off to the side. Scott does not want to taint his sunshines final resting palace with a gift from his killer, from such a horrible horrible man. Even if Jimmy would want everyone’s flowers to all be together on the grave….

The last person, and army member to come by, is BigB. And despite being in the army, he has always been such a kind fellow, and has never harmed anyone personally. Scott even lets him inside the valley, and lets him get a glimpse of the grave from afar. He firmly believes that, under different circumstances, BigB could’ve easily been saved from choosing the wrong side. He brings Scott dandelions, flowers that are kind just like their gifter. Flowers that are a symbol of healing, if he remembers correctly. Scott smiles as he places them on the grave, the last plants he will ever place there, because now every time rests atop and around the dirt that holds his petal.

He picks up one of the white dandelions, and blows on it gently. They scatter into the wind, and he hopes Jimmy enjoys watching them fly and flutter about in the air.

It’s as if the floating flower pieces are performing a dance just for the two of them.

“So dawn goes down to day.”

He killed Skizz earlier that day. Well yesterday, because it is now sunrise. Grian was going to take him out, but he lets Scott get the last, killing blow with his axe. For his husband, for Jimmy. For all that this man has stolen from him.

It felt good, so so good, and satisfying, and all those violent urges were finally laid to rest. And finally, finally, the fog manages to lift just by the smallest bit. But just by a bit.

All this death and murder and thoughts of allies that this incident, and everything else, spawns things in his head. Makes him think. Makes him make vows and promises to himself that he might never be able to fulfill, right as the sun finally goes up. He hadn’t slept a wink the night before.

Scott makes a silent promise to himself that if there ever is another game like this one, another life, he will never let this happen again. His allies will not die needlessly, or sacrifice themselves. He will be the one to go first, and will do so happily. He will give them his all, he will be the sacrifice. 

He feels like he never gave Jimmy his all, so this is the only way to make up for it. Even if they will not remember the next time they see each other. He will make up for it by making his undying loyalty truly undying, whoever his allies may be. In the next life, and every single one after that.

He will give everyone he loves his all, forever and till the end of time. Till he no longer can anymore, and there is nothing left to give.

“Nothing gold can stay.”

After his petal goes, Scott is quick to learn that nothing in this world stays. Not even him. 

He bleeds out, forgotten and alone, killed by Ren during a chase. It might’ve been Martyn, he can’t remember, because the blood loss is catching up with him and his brain isn’t working. It’s also not working because he’s dying.

And as he dies, forgotten by his allies and in a pool of his own blood, an enemy undeniably waiting nearby for him to go so they can loot his items, Scott hopes he is buried next to Jimmy. He hopes that Grian and Scar are jot too far gone, and they will remember to carry his body back and bury him on the hill. Like he'd told them he wanted, a few nights before. He hopes he gets to see his sunshine again, whatever happens after this. He hopes he can see Jimmy again and hold him and kiss him and tell him how much he cares and loves him and misses him and wishes he could’ve done more to save him. 

He dies and he wishes to go home to his sunshine once more. And in more ways than one, his wish is granted.

…..

…..

…..

“...Petal?”

#ron.writing #trafficshipping #flower husbands #3rd life smp #nothing gold can stay #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #This was supossed to be done in september.... #my last fh related thing for a whle probablyy