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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

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an icarus and his sun: chapter 14

A/N: hello i return!! just one more chapter after this, it's so wild to think that this fic is almost over!

Warnings: kissing, self-worth issues, talk of near death situations and past injury

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

Kissing Scott felt like Jimmy was cradling sunlight in his hands. Something that should have been impossible, and yet all the same it was happening. And now that Scott had Jimmy, he seemed determined not to let him go. Not that Jimmy was exactly complaining about Scott’s new mission to kiss him breathless- but considering not too long ago Scott was trying to make him breathless in an entirely different sense, and that the others didn’t even know what all went down… they should probably stop. So with great regret, Jimmy tried to pull away from Scott- key word there being tried.

“Scott, c’mon, let go of me,” Jimmy chuckled, dodging yet another kiss. Scott settled for pressing his lips to Jimmy’s cheek before tucking his head under Jimmy’s chin. His wings shifted to curl around the both of them, and as nice as it felt, they really needed to get up from the floor so that Jimmy could let his friends know what happened.

“Mm… no,” Scott hummed with a giggle.

“We should probably tell the others what happened- they all think you’re still fighting off the corruption, or are possessed,” Jimmy pointed out.

“I don’t see why we can’t just tell them later,” Scott pouted. Jimmy let out a fond, incredulous sigh.

“You also haven’t properly eaten anything in a few days, you’ve been living off of splash health potions for the most part,” Jimmy said sternly.

“Well, I know something I’m hungry for,” Scott teased, and Jimmy didn’t even need to see his face to know that he was smirking. Jimmy sighed again.

“And I thought you were incorrigible when we hated each other,” he commented with a chuckle. Scott pulled away enough to look at Jimmy with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You’re stuck with me now, better get used to it, sweetheart,” he murmured. Jimmy could feel his face warm up considerably at the petname, and Scott grinned at the sight. Well, two could play that game.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, sunshine,” Jimmy replied with a grin. Scott’s eyes went wide, and he flushed pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Oh you can flirt back now. Right,” Scott managed to get out, voice coming out a bit strained. Jimmy just grinned wider.

“So what do you say, sunshine? How about we let everyone know that neither of us are dead and that you’re also not possessed?” Jimmy offered. Scott made a flustered sound at being called “sunshine” again, but collected himself enough to let out a sigh of defeat.

“Fine,” he grumbled, before getting up off of Jimmy. Jimmy stood up as well- just in time to catch Scott as he suddenly tilted to one side. Scott was leaning against Jimmy heavily, and Jimmy looped an arm around his waist as he tried to keep Scott upright.

“Scott?!” Jimmy gasped, unable to keep the panic from his tone.

“M’okay- think that lack of actual food thing is catching up to me. Just stood up too fast and got dizzy, that’s all,” Scott reassured him, standing up a bit more but still holding on to Jimmy, just to be sure.

“Then we’d really better tell the others so that we can work on getting your strength back,” Jimmy said with a relieved smile. He led Scott over to the lever for the secret door, and the moment he flicked it, a group of people came tumbling in. Nearly all of them fell to the floor in a heap, except for Pearl and Pixl, who sheepishly smiled at Jimmy and Scott. Gem was the first to pick herself up from the floor, dusting off her robes and letting out a nervous laugh.

“We uh. We might have been listening for a little bit there! We just didn’t want to interrupt,” Gem explained sheepishly. The others picked themselves off from the floor as she spoke, and Shelby was the last to get up from the floor, holding a black shulker box to her chest.

“Where’d the corruption go, I’ve got a box for it!” Shelby chirped, peering around Jimmy and Scott. The two of them blinked in surprise, and Scott looked to his arm. The corruption was long gone, all that was left was a scar from the initial cut. Jimmy looked around the room, and soon spotted what was left of the corruption lying on the floor near where he and Scott had fought. It looked like a mass of red vines that twitched every so often, and Jimmy’s stomach turned with nausea at the sight. Scott seemed to notice Jimmy’s sudden distress, and followed his gaze, only for Scott himself to turn several shades paler than he already was as he clung to Jimmy a bit tighter. Shelby noticed where the two of them were looking, and quickly scrambled over to carefully gather up the corruption and put it in the shulker box.

“Hey, easy, just look at me- you’re okay,” Jimmy soothed, reaching out to gently turn Scott’s head towards him. Scott’s look seemed far away even as he was looking into Jimmy’s eyes, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before blinking them open with a shaky sigh, gaze looking much more focused than before as he leaned his forehead against Jimmy’s.

“I think it’s probably good I’ve only been living off of health potions, pretty sure I would have just lost whatever I would have eaten right then,” Scott got out with a short laugh.

“So… how did you get the corruption out anyway?” Pixl asked after pointedly clearing his throat. Jimmy and Scott jumped slightly, pulling away from each other (but not far enough for Scott to be without standing support) with a pair of sheepish smiles.

“Well I uh. We were fighting, and I might’ve kissed Scott to throw him off, but it ended up being the push to snap him out of it and fight against the corruption,” Jimmy explained with a blush. Scott looked at Jimmy with a perplexed expression.

“Jimmy… I didn’t do anything against the corruption. It- before I woke up with you uh… holding me, the last thing I remembered was losing to another version of myself in some sort of red dreamscape. Your kiss saved me, not anything I did,” Scott explained. A series of adoring coos and gasps sounded from the group, and Jimmy felt his face burn.

“True love was the key this whole time?” Shelby pondered, looking down at the shulker box she held with the now contained corruption.

“Well- I- surely it’s gotta be more than that,” Jimmy managed to get out, feeling incredibly flustered.

“So a mix of love and wills, then. It sounded like Scott maybe could have beaten it on his own, he just needed the extra help!” Shelby replied with a shrug. Scott frowned.

“I don’t know, honestly. The other me- it- he?- was mostly toying with me, I think. Said something about how ‘he’ would be pleased to know that I was specifically under the corruption’s control,” Scott explained shakily.

“He?” Gem asked, brows furrowed in concern.

“The other me referred to some other person that he was sent by, maybe? Then when I asked about who the ‘he’ was, the other me said something about how I didn’t ‘remember’ and how that made me easy to control,” Scott continued.

“The corruption is sentient?!” Shelby gasped, holding the shulker box away from herself.

“And apparently sent by someone else? And seemed to already know you somehow?” Gem pondered. Scott shrugged helplessly.

“I don’t know. All I know is that it’s gone now, and I’m extremely glad for that,” Scott said, voice tight with nerves as the barrage of questions began to overwhelm him.

“And we’re glad you’re okay too!” Katherine piped up, stepping forward with a smile, clearly picking up on Scott’s discomfort. Scott blinked in surprise at her words.

“You.. are?” he asked in disbelief. Katherine just looked as surprised, if not more, than Scott did. The others had a mixture of concern and confusion on their faces as well, and Scott shifted uncomfortably at the attention.

“Why would I not be?” Katherine asked. Scott swallowed nervously.

“I- I knew about Fwhip’s plan for the ball, and didn’t say anything. Your- your castle was destroyed because I was too afraid to do anything about it,” he replied, voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid speaking any louder would awaken the wrath of those around him. An almost wounded expression came across Katherine’s face.

“Scott, even if I was still mad at you when we found you lying in front of Gem’s home, I wouldn’t have wanted you to die. Besides, between Fwhip’s gloating monologue and what we knew from what Pearl and Gem had told us, we know that you weren’t exactly a willing participant in Fwhip’s plan,” Katherine said softly, taking a slow step closer to Scott. His wings shifted anxiously, and Jimmy gently squeezed Scott’s arm to comfort him.

“I- you’re not mad?” he asked, voice still hushed and timid. Katherine smiled gently.

“No, I’m not. If castles can be rebuilt, so can friendships,” Katherine replied softly, holding out her arms. Scott barely hesitated at the invitation, letting go of Jimmy to instead hug Katherine tightly. Any remaining tension Scott held seemed to melt away as Katherine hugged him back. He hesitantly drew back after a few moments, a contemplative expression on his face.

“Is something wrong?” Jimmy asked. He reached out towards him, intending to put a comforting hand on his shoulder- but was pleasantly surprised by Scott taking his hand and tugging him closer so that they could stand side-by-side, fingers intertwined. Jimmy felt his face flush, and Scott smirked at him for a brief moment before schooling his expression into something more serious.

“So now that the uh- the corruption is dealt with. For now. Hopefully. Anyway what I’m trying to say is- what do we do about Fwhip and Sausage?” Scott asked. The others exchanged glances, seemingly having an entire conversation without words that Jimmy was hopelessly unable to decipher. Scott didn’t look like he knew what was going on either, and seemed a little apprehensive at that fact.

“We’ll protect you,” Katherine said firmly. The rest of the group nodded in agreement. Jimmy found himself nodding too- and to his shock, Scott seemed a little flustered.

“I- that’s a nice gesture, but not really what I meant- I was talking about them in a more general sense, not just if they try to come after me specifically. Again,” Scott explained with a sheepish laugh.

“Well I can definitely handle whatever they throw at us. Fwhip ran like a coward after I chased him away a few days ago,” Pearl said with a confident grin.

“Sausage won’t be an issue either, not with my magic to defend us!” Gem added.

“If I’m not gonna take out my rage on Scott for playing with Jimmy’s heart, then I guess I can settle for Fwhip or Sausage,” Lizzie said with a shrug. Scott paled slightly, and Jimmy frowned at Lizzie with a disapproving glare.

“Lizzie, you don’t need to be mad at him anymore, we made up!” Jimmy protested, raising their joined hands as proof.

“Think a little more than that happened,” Pixl commented dryly. Joel let out a laugh that he was quick to stifle, pushing at Pixl with one hand while covering his mouth with the other. Lizzie rolled her eyes at the two of them before looking at Jimmy again.

“Well I’m not mad because of that, but how do I know he’s good enough for you?” Lizzie said, glaring at Scott in a way that Jimmy could tell was playful, but Scott didn’t seem to realize that, wings stiffening before relaxing as he took a deep breath.

“I know I have a lot to make up for. And I know it’s not gonna be as easy as me nearly dying on you all to gain your trust again. But I’m willing to make an effort-” Scott paused, looking at Jimmy the gentlest he ever had, the ice in his eyes melting for Jimmy and for Jimmy alone- “because he’s worth it.”

“Scott…” Jimmy trailed off, unsure of what to say after all of that. Scott just smiled at him and squeezed his hand. Lizzie just blinked at them, dumbfounded for a moment.

“I was mostly just messing with you, but… I’m glad to know that you’re serious about him,” Lizzie said with a smile. Scott let out a breath of relief, smiling back before his expression settled into something more resolute.

“Speaking of serious, we should probably discuss more concrete defense plans in case of any other sort of attack from Fwhip and Sausage,” Scott said. Various sounds and mutters of agreement filled the room, and they began discussing defensive strategies- things like making moats, building walls, and sharpening their fighting skills. Jimmy didn’t contribute much to the conversation, not that he exactly had much to offer- but even if he did, he was too busy listening to Scott with rapt attention, a smitten expression on his face all the while.

Taglists below! Let me know if you wanna be added/removed to/from either!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @beepa99 @devilwoodkitty18 @logosbottm @riobug

#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #geminitay #shubble #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #pearlescentmoon #pixlriffs #katherine elizabeth #flower husbands #seablings #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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hermits-that-craft · 3 years

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In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter One - Dreams are Sweet

Link to the ao3 in comments

Jimmy sits, his feet in the water as he looks away from his empire, towards the ocean. He holds a bundle of azure bullets that Scott had included in their trade. They’re nice flowers, four small white petals with yellow in the center, clearly having grown in Scott’s empire instead of being brought from Katherine. It’s sweet, a small gift from Scott that he didn’t have to include.

So why does it make Jimmy’s heart yearn?

Why does it remind him of something he doesn’t remember?

Jimmy falls back, looking at the clouds in the sky. He doesn’t understand - he can’t understand. There’s no love for Scott in Jimmy’s heart, they aren’t allies, hardly even acquaintances. Why would Scott give him the flower? Is it an olive branch? Why would Scott do that now, Jimmy’s been here the whole time. Scott’s also Sausage’s ally, this has to be a trap.

It has to be.

There’s nothing to have nostalgia over. Jimmy hardly even thinks on the ruler of Rivendell, why would he have déjà vu over him?

Lizzie would know. Lizzie and Joel would be able to help.

Jimmy stands, carefully placing the flower bundle into his inventory, diving into the ocean. He will meet with his sister even if she’s in a meeting. He needs help.

---

Lizzie and Joel listen to Jimmy with open expressions, as Jimmy rambles on about Scott and the flowers. He shows them the bundle, and Lizzie coos as Joel elbows her harshly in the ribs. The couple exchange a look, and Jimmy squints at them. Look, he loves his sister and his brother-in-law, but they know he hates the silent conversations.

“It sounds like he wants to be your friend.” Joel says evenly, and Jimmy holds back a laugh as the king pointedly ignore his wife’s betrayed look. “This could be really good for the cod empire. Rivendell’s supposed to be pretty.”

“Joel,” Lizzie grumbles. “Tell him.”

“Just because you think that this is-”

“It is similar!”

“I have no idea what you two are on about.” Jimmy says, laughing as the couple squabble.

“It’s like when-” Joel slaps his hand over Lizzie’s mouth, and Jimmy looses it, laughing to the point of tears.

“Ignore her.” Joel smiles. “Maybe you should take him a flower, your orchid’s are lovely after all.”

“That’s a good idea. It’d be nice to have an ally in Sausage and Fwip’s corner. We need to know their plans.” Jimmy frowns at the ground, planning. “Thanks Joel, Lizzie! I’ll see you both later.”

“Remember that Katherine wants to have a meeting tomorrow afternoon!” Joel calls out after him, as Jimmy jumps out the window.

The wind in Jimmy’s hair distracts him before his body hits the water. He’s got to get out of here fast, Lizzie’s going to kill him for jumping out her windows again. He always hits the water, but apparently she doesn’t want to take the chance that he won't hit the water. As if, he’s a cod hybrid. He’ll always find water.

---

Jimmy laughs, the sun warming his face. A soft flower field and lake, nestled in between mountains and the world border. Sheep bleat in the background, and bees fly between the flowers. It’s safe, comfortable. The walls built up to protect them, his house fixed by his husband.

Nothing could go wrong.

A figure made of shadows leans against him, leaving a static feeling against his arm, but Jimmy doesn’t mind. He simply leans his head against his husband’s, intertwining their fingers. A gold band sits on Jimmy’s finger, and he can make out one on the shadow’s shape.

“We’re going to win this. And then we’ll retire here.” Jimmy promises. “Live out til old age.”

“You’re going to stay?” His husband’s voice is distorted, unrecognisable.

“For you? Of course.” Jimmy kisses his husband’s cheeks. “C’mon. Lets dance.”

“A war is going to break out. Dogwarts is going to fight us.” His husband says and Jimmy stands up, walking in front of him. “I don’t think we should-”

“Dance with me.” Jimmy pulls the shadow up, and the shadow laughs. “Dance with me, like there's no war. Like I’m not red, and you’re not green. Dance with me.”

The shadow laughs, and pulls him into a waltz, spinning and swaying in time. The sun sets as the lanterns light themselves, and fireflies take off into the sky. They dance together for hours, laughing and spinning themselves around. Finally, the pair of them collapse onto the ground, lying down next to each other.

“You’ll come back?”

“Always.”

Screams tear from Jimmy’s throat as he shoots up. What was that dream? Why did it feel so normal, so natural? He doesn’t understand - he can’t understand it. It doesn’t make any sense, who was that? Why was he married?

Why did the dream hurt?

Jimmy leans against the headboard of his bed, sighing deeply. He’ll ask Gem about it tomorrow, after the meeting. She’s a wizard, she would know how dreams work, right? Hopefully its not a magical dream, not a prophecy.

Jimmy looks out his window, watching the moon as it ripples against the water. He can’t keep dreaming about this place. Why is he still dreaming about this place? It’s been years since he last dreamt about it. At least he caught himself before it got violent this time - even if he woke up screaming.

Jimmy doesn’t want to give Sausage any more ammunition against him, and nightmares of war and death are certainly one way to do that.

Jimmy should message Lizzie. She wouldn’t mind, in fact, she explicitly told him to message her if he had the nightmares again, when he left the ocean empire to found the cod empire. He even promised that he would, because she’s his older sister and he trusts her. He knows, deep down, that she would leave her bed - leave her husband and kingdom without so much as a note - to come and sit with Jimmy until the clutches of sleep have let him go and the dream has faded from his mind.

But he’ll see her tomorrow, so there’s no real harm in not telling her immediately, and he’s twenty-five, he’s old enough to deal with his own nightmares. He’s not a child anymore.

So Jimmy stands and walks out of his house, maskless and crownless, for the first time in years.

It’s not as though Jimmy forgot what the breeze felt like on his face, he opens his windows often enough, but it does shock him a little. Standing in the open with unfocused eyes and expressions that the whole world can see. Standing not as a ruler but as a person.

Jimmy jumps into the ocean, letting himself sink to the bottom of it. He leans his head against the poles his house is held up by. He’ll wake in the morning, but for now…

For now he yearns for the embrace of the shadowy man in his dreams.

He yearns for his home.

#in my dreams (will you remember me)#imd(wyrm)#hehe the acronim is funny #imd(wyrm) fic #flower husbands #empires smp #empires jimmy #empires scott #empires smp fanfic #empires lizzie #mcyt fanfiction #3rdlifesmp #3rd life scott #3rd life jimmy #3rd life fanfic #my writing

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smaidjor · 3 years

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i know they're losing (Chapter 1)

hi mothers and fuckers of the jury, this fic is a hot mess but so am I, please appreciate it. Also, obligatory disclaimer this is about the characters not the people, all that important stuff.

Some important notes:

1. You will probably hate Scott just a little at points. He has chronic dumb bitch syndrome and there's a whole lot of bullshit going on in his life that you don't see in this fic because it's not his pov. That being said, he's still a bit of a jerk.

2. This has a lot of lord of the rings lore. A LOT. You may be kinda confused if you're not a lord of the rings fan. It's fine, Jimmy's confused too, and all of it will be explained at some point.

3. The chapter titles are from the Last Goodbye from the Hobbit films. The general title is from I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski.

4. General content warnings: there is a little blood, and a little violence, and a lot of mentioned death and morbid jokes. If you don't do well with themes involving death this fic is probably not for you. There is also possibly going to be referenced emotional abuse and generally unhealthy ways to raise children, though that will be talked about much further down the line. I will also put specific cws at the start of each chapter, don't worry!

5. The alternate title for this was '10k words of flower husbands being sad'. You have been warned.

Title: i know they're losing

Chapter Title: under clouds, beneath the stars

Current Total Wordcount: 3740

Content Warning: referenced/past character death, very frank discussion of death.

Snippet:

Scott whirls to face him, robes spinning behind him. “I’m fading, alright? I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy feels like he’s been smacked in the face, the words hitting him with all the force of a well-thrown trident. Dying? “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords, from arrows through the throat-” Jimmy’s hands fly to the scar on his neck, the one that matches Scott’s own- “from grief.”

AO3 Link

Actual fic under the cut

Scott’s hands are cold. That’s the first sign, the chill that’s uncharacteristic of an elf.

Scott’s chest hurts. That’s the second sign, the bone-deep ache he can’t seem to quell.

Scott is weaker than normal, and that’s the third sign, the one that confirms what’s happening beyond a shadow of a doubt. He’s fading, Scott thinks as he leans against a wall, trying to stop his head from spinning. He can’t say he’s surprised, not after all he’s been through; in fact, he’s more astonished it took so long to start.

In another world, it happens like this:

Scott’s hands are cold, and Shubble notices as he shows her around the nether. It’s worrying, a bit, how icy his skin is even in the boiling dimension, but Scott’s empire has always been cold, hasn’t it?

Katherine notices how long it’s been since Scott visited her, one of his few allies, and she worries, a bit. But Scott has always been distant, hasn’t he?

No one notices or worries enough to go check on him, and Scott fades away to nothing, cold and alone in his icy empire.

What actually happens is this:

Katherine has gotten word of the demon that haunts the server, and amongst all her worry, one of her thoughts is ‘has anyone checked on Scott?’. The answer is no, and next time she has a free day, she sets out for Rivendell. It’s not a long trip, not with elytra, anyways, and soon she’s at the doors to his keep.

“I need to see Lord Smajor,” she tells the guards.

“He’s not taking visitors right now.” is the response she gets.

“It’s a vital matter to the safety of both our kingdoms.”

They let her in.

Katherine spends far too long looking around the elegantly decorated downstairs and storage area before she realizes he must be up the spiral staircase in the corner of the room. She’s never been upstairs in Scott’s house before, which makes her a little nervous, but… this is an urgent matter, so she presses on into what turns out to be a very pretty bedroom. Decorated with bookshelves aplenty and gorgeous lanterns, it practically screams Scott.

The man (elf?) himself is harder to spot. At first, Katherine’s worried he isn’t there at all, but eventually she realizes that he’s still in bed despite the fact that it’s a quarter to one, only his pale face sticking out from under the covers.

“Scott?” She asks, cautious. “Lord Smajor?”

He blinks at her tiredly. “Hi, Katherine.”

“I came to talk to you about some empires stuff, but, I mean, if this is a bad time, I can come back later…?”

“No, no, stay.” He waves at the sole chair in the room, which is near-enough to the bed. “I can muster the energy for a meeting, just don’t ask me to get up.”

Katherine takes the seat hesitantly. “I came to talk about the corruption on the server, but- are you okay? Are you sick?”

Scott laughs, a little bitter. “In a way, yes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take my hand.”

She obeys, confused, and finds that Scott’s hands are like ice despite the warmth of the room.

“Elves don’t get sick like mortals do,” Scott says. “Nor do we die of old age. But we get...heartsickness, you might call it. We call it fading in our tongue- the cold hands are a symptom of that. Our souls are fragile, and the grief of the mortal plane can be overwhelming. If an elf is too struck by it, they fade away and die.”

She gasps a little.

“It usually happens to old elves, world-weary,” Scott continues. “Those who are tired of existence. But any elf who has experienced enough grief is at risk.”

It takes Katherine a moment to process everything, and once she does, she stares at him in horror. “You’re- fading? But doesn’t it usually happen to old elves? Wait, are you old?”

“I’m fifty-five.”

“Is that old?”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fifty is the elven equivalent of eighteen for humans, the age of maturity.”

“Oh.” She struggles for words for a moment, settling on “How can you be so calm if you’re dying?”

“I’m tired, Katherine. The world tore me away from the people I loved, and..I’m tired of fighting it.”

Try as she might, there’s nothing she can say to that. “Is there a way to reverse fading- to fix it?”

Something pained and raw flashes through his eyes. “Technically, yes. If an elf recovers enough emotionally, it’s reversible. But whatever caused them to fade the first time can- and often does- cause it again.”

Katherine nods seriously, absorbing the information. “We’ll just have to reverse it, then.”

“That’s sweet, Katherine, but I’m dying.”

“No,” she tells him firmly. “You’re not going to die. Now come on, you can show me your empire while I fill you in on what’s happening on the rest of the continent.”

Scott stares at her for a long moment, but eventually he takes her outstretched hand. “Alright.” His hand is frozen cold in hers. “We can try.”

Katherine lets him lead her around Rivendell, pointing out the sights. He’s done an impressive job decorating, like her, and an even more impressive job at uniting the elves and building an empire from the ground up. The people of Rivendell are weary and battle-scarred, for the most part, elves who have seen too much, but the children are bright and happy, and the cyan and gold banners wave proudly in the wind.

As they walk, she also tells Scott about the demon, Xornoth. “The demon’s already visited a lot of people, I think. Gem and Shubble for sure, and Fwhip and Sausage. That’s not even mentioning the corruption that’s been spreading.”

Scott nods. “There’s corruption in Rivendell too. Likely Xornoth’s work. And given that Jimmy still has Vilya- well, I haven’t been able to do much.”

“Vilya?”

“A ring of power. My inheritance from the Noldor.”

“Why does Jimmy have it?”

He doesn’t answer that one.

Katherine leaves feeling unsettled, with more questions than answers. She has new resolve, though, and a new goal: keep Scott from fading. He’s a good friend, though they don’t know each other that well yet, but more than that, he’s a powerful ally. And Katherine can’t afford to lose allies. So while they’re both rulers and busy in their own right, she promises to visit and drag him outside at least once a week.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Scott jokes, but his laugh is weak.

Katherine vows to hold herself to it.

The plan works for three entire weeks before Katherine has a week that’s so busy there’s no way she can find the time for a trip to Rivendell. Worse than that, because Scott is so isolated, he has almost no other friends, and many of Katherine’s allies are busy too. She’s a little short of options, to be honest, which is how she finds herself on Jimmy Solidarity’s doorstep that Sunday afternoon.

“Hello?” Jimmy asks as the door swings open. Katherine can see why Lizzie calls him the sweet swamp boy- his confused head tilt is frankly adorable.

“Hi! I know we don’t talk much, but I could use a favor,” she says.

“What can I do for you?”

“I need you to visit Scott.”

Jimmy looks beyond startled. “What- I mean, he doesn’t even like me! I couldn’t possibly.”

“Please?” She wheedles. “I promised him a visitor every week, but I have meetings all week this time.”

He shakes his head, hesitantly at first and then stronger. “No, Katherine. He’d just throw me right out again. I’m his enemy, for goodness sake!”

“If he hates you so much, why do you have his ring?”

Katherine knows she’s won, watching emotions flit across his face too quickly to catch. Grief is what he settles on, and she feels a little bit bad for the ring comment when his voice comes out wobbly.

“I guess I should return that, huh? Alright, I’ll go.”

“Sorry,” she says.

Jimmy brushes it off, saying there’s no need to worry, but he fiddles with the ring on his finger all the more. It’s on his left ring finger, Katherine notes. She wonders if that truly means what it implies.

“I’ll visit him tomorrow,” Jimmy says.

“I’ll hold you to that!”

Jimmy isn’t sure why he agreed to this at all, to be honest. Scott may have given him this ring in another world, another lifetime, but that doesn’t mean Scott doesn’t hate him in this one. What other explanation is there for how all his gifts have been rejected, how cold the elf is? Jimmy would be surprised that Scott’s never tried to take his ring back if it wasn’t for how thoroughly Scott avoids him nowadays. Getting the ring back would require talking to Jimmy, something Scott has made it very clear that he doesn’t want to do. Jimmy doesn’t have another use for it, and try as he might to forget flower fields and warm hands in his, he can’t bear to throw it away. So it’s remained on his hand all this time, a painful reminder of someone who used to love him.

Jimmy tries to avoid looking at it as much as possible, every glimpse bringing back the memory of Scott gently sliding it onto his hand, a faint blush dusting his cheeks and a smile on his lips. Even the faint shimmers in the blue gem remind him of how the starlight seemed to get caught in Scott’s hair when they were out at night. The ring had been one of their most valuable possessions on 3rd Life, the rare silver band and elegant forging more than proof of that. Now, though, the ring has to be one of the least valuable things Jimmy owns; on 3rd Life, they were humble folk in little hobbit holes, their most expensive possessions being their diamond armor and swords, but here, they’re kings and lords. Scott probably has a thousand treasures more valuable in his elven empire, so Jimmy’s not sure why he’s bothering to trek all the way across the world just to return this one.

Then again, it’s not really about the ring, and never has been. It’s about the way starlight used to shine in Scott’s eyes when he smiled, his rare, soft grin that was reserved just for Jimmy, how he gave Jimmy the most valuable thing either of them owned. It’s closure, in a way, giving it back. He won’t have any debt to Scott once this ring is returned, and they can both move on like Scott so clearly wants to.

Shaking off those thoughts, Jimmy slows to a stop in front of Scott’s house. It’s grand, nothing like his old hobbit hole, but still so clearly Scott in the decoration and color schemes. Jimmy would know who built it even if he hadn’t known Scott lived in these mountains.

“I’m here to visit Scott,” he says to the guard stationed outside.

They raise an eyebrow, presumably at the familiar way he refers to Scott. “On formal business or personal?”

“Personal? Sort of? I mean, I don’t have any diplomatic reason for being here.” Truth be told, he has no reason to be here at all, really, but...the ring.

“Then Lord Smajor cannot see you.”

Jimmy grits his teeth, suddenly furious at this whole ordeal. “Then tell Lord Smajor that I need to return his ring.”

“May I see it?”

He sticks his hand out obligingly, and the guard examines the ring, surprise blooming across their face. “I did not realize my Lord had lent you Vilya! My apologies, Lord Codfather, I see the alliance between our kingdoms is stronger than I had assumed. You may pass.”

Vilya? “Thank you, gentle, uh, gentleperson!”

The guard dips their head slightly as he walks by, a gesture of respect that he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to. He shakes off the strangeness of the interaction, though, pushing open the door to Scott’s house.

The inside is beautiful, exactly the kind of decor Scott loves...and empty. There’s no one in the spacious kitchen, the storage room, or anywhere else for that matter. Jimmy’s seconds from giving up and going home when he realizes that there are stairs up to the balcony above. That’s where he goes, finding himself in Scott’s bedroom.

Which is awkward, to say the least. It’s not like they never slept in the same room when they were married, but now that there’s this awkward, painful distance between them, Jimmy feels like he’s intruding. What’s worse is, Scott’s still in bed, laying on his side with his face tilted away from Jimmy’s awkward entrance.

“Hello, Jimmy.”

Jimmy half-jumps, not expecting that. “How’d you know it was me?”

Scott rolls over to face him, and Jimmy notes that his face is too pale for it to be natural or healthy. “Do you think I could ever forget the sound of your footsteps?” He goes on before Jimmy can answer. “What are you doing here?”

“Katherine asked me to visit, I’m not sure why, but...here I am. Say, why is she visiting every week?”

Scott’s laugh is bitter. “Katherine thinks she can save me.”

“Save you from what?” Jimmy asks, concerned despite himself.

His (ex?)husband doesn’t reply.

“Save you from what?” Jimmy presses, and gets no answer yet again.

Instead, Scott sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “You should go.” He stands, and immediately stumbles, Jimmy rushing to steady him on instinct. Scott’s hands are like ice when he grips Jimmy’s arm to regain his balance, taking several deep breaths, and Jimmy’s instantly struck by how wrong that feels. Scott’s hands were always warm, even on the coldest nights in 3rd life. Some elven thing, probably, that Scott didn’t want to talk about or have time to explain to a silly human like Jimmy.

“Scott, what is going on?”

The elf brushes him off again, heading for the stairs, but the regal effect is ruined by how hard he has to grip the railing.

“Scott, seriously! Answer me, are you okay? What’s happening?”

Scott whirls to face him, robes spinning behind him. “I’m fading, alright? I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy feels like he’s been smacked in the face, the words hitting him with all the force of a well-thrown trident. Dying? “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords, from arrows through the throat-” Jimmy’s hands fly to the scar on his neck, the one that matches Scott’s own- “from grief.” Scott turns back to the stairs. “Come on. If you’re not going to leave, I might as well show you around.”

Jimmy follows, reluctantly, trying to think of something to say that isn’t incoherent sputtering with a bit of ‘why do you hate me now’ added in. “You can’t just drop something like that on a man, you know!”

“You did ask, to be fair.”

Why oh why is he so stupid around Scott? “I guess so, but- but still, dude.”

Scott pushes open the side door, holding it for Jimmy. “Here.”

Jimmy nods and slips through the door. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They start along the path, Scott walking far too quickly for Jimmy’s comfort given how terrible the elf’s balance is currently. He nearly has to jog to keep up, irritatingly, but at least they aren’t snapping at each other for a few precious moments.

Of course, Jimmy has to go and ruin that. “So, uh..are we going to talk about 3rd life?” He has to hear it from Scott’s own lips that he remembers, that it affected him even half as much as it’s affected Jimmy.

“No.”

“Why not? We need to talk about it some time-”

“I said no .”

“It’s literally killing you to not talk about it!”

Scott freezes, face going icy calm in the way Jimmy knows means he’s actually upset. The elf’s hands grip the fabric of his robes tight, his back going rigid. This is a bad idea, Jimmy knows.

He’s in too deep to back out now, though, the pent-up hurt of the past few months all coming out in a rush. “Tell me I’m wrong, Scott! I dare you, tell me I’m wrong! Tell me you never cared about me, tell me you didn’t bother to bury me, tell me it didn’t hurt even a little when I died! Tell me I was just stupid little Jimmy, a toy for an elf who’d live far beyond my lifespan! Tell me whatever, just tell me the truth! ”

Scott breathes out slowly, fury gradually building on his face. “Fine. You want to know what happened after you died? You want to hear about me screaming until my throat went raw? You want to know that I kissed your face and sobbed and begged you to wake up, over and over until I couldn’t speak at all? You want to live with the knowledge that Grian had to physically pull me away from your body? Is that what you want to hear, Jimmy ?”

Jimmy’s name on Scott’s lips punches all the remaining air out of him, sounding so wrong in that angry, bitter tone. Beneath all the rage, Scott sounds wrecked , and the fight leaves Jimmy’s body abruptly. “No,” he says softly. “That’s not what I want to hear, not at all. I’d rather you be happy than love me.”

Silence follows those words, only the faint sound of a waterfall in the distance there to break it.

“I buried you on the hill above our houses,” Scott says finally. “I planted a poppy over your grave.”

“Oh.”

“Grian came over the next day. I didn’t want to see anyone who wasn’t you, but I let him in because I had to. He helped me do the straps on my armor and asked me if he could do anything else to make things easier. I told him to bury me next to you.”

Jimmy swallows hard. “Did he?”

“How would I know?” Scott’s tone softens, just a little. “Grian was honorable enough, though, loyal to his allies. I like to think he did.”

“He was a good guy,” Jimmy agrees. “A little bit bloodthirsty, I guess, but good. I don’t suppose he survived any better than the rest of us, though maybe being bloodthirsty helped.”

“Maybe.”

“Can I- can I ask you why you hate me so much now? I mean, if you mourned me in third life and all.”

Scott turns away again, starting down the path a second time. He’s not looking at Jimmy when he says “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” It’s a shock, honestly, given that this is the first time the two of them have really spoken since the beginning of empires. “But you burned the pufferfish-”

“I didn’t. I kept it.” Scott still won’t look at him. “I never hated you. I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Then why do you keep avoiding me?”

“I’ve been kind of busy dying,” Scott says dryly, and Jimmy doesn’t even realize it’s a joke until he looks over at Scott’s wry little grin.

“Scott! That’s not funny!” He scolds, aghast.

“It was a little funny.”

“No!”

Scott must hear the genuine distress in Jimmy’s voice because he drops the act. “Jimmy, I’m an elf. I won’t live far beyond you, but only because I’ll fade without you.”

“So your solution is to isolate yourself and fade now?” Jimmy demands.

“It does sound stupid when you put it like that, doesn’t it? But I lost you once, and I don’t think I could bear it again.”

Jimmy wants to argue, wants to fight him on this, but there’s nothing he can say. Instead, he puts a hand on Scott’s arm to stop him walking any further. Scott turns to look at him, seemingly startled, and Jimmy throws his arms around the elf.

Scott stiffens before slowly relaxing, arms coming up to wrap around Jimmy in return. It’s not as natural a gesture as it used to be, but it’s warm, gentle in a way Jimmy thought he’d never get again. It reminds him of the soft, starry-eyed boy who put flowers in his hair and laughed at him over a cake. Scott will never be that soft again and Jimmy will never be unscarred, but they’re here. They’re alive, that has to count for something.

Scott pulls back, his expression so achingly tender and heartbroken all at once. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.” His voice is raw, a little shaky. “I can’t. Not again.”

“But-”

He’s cut off by Scott shaking his head. “Losing you will destroy me. We dared to love, and now all we can do now is lessen the pain when it all comes crashing down.”

Jimmy’s in too much shock to speak, the ache in his heart returning tenfold as Scott turns back towards the house.

“Goodbye, Jimmy.” He sweeps away, elegant as ever, but stumbles and nearly falls as he reaches the door. Jimmy’s not there to catch him.

Jimmy stumbles home in a daze. It's somewhat of a miracle that no mob manages to kill him, honestly. To be so close to a resolution, to have the person he wanted most right there in his arms, and then to have all that ripped away- he can’t think of anything that could have hurt more. Even his deaths were less painful than this- at least an arrow through the throat is quicker than feeling like your heart is being ripped out through your ribs, Jimmy thinks, a little bitter. He throws Scott’s stupid ring in a pool in the swamp, watching as it sinks to the bottom of the shallow water with hardly a bubble.

Wait.

The ring.

It’s significant, somehow, according to a Rivendell guard, and more than that, it’s an excuse to see Scott again. One last chance to change his mind about the stupid plan that’s literally killing him.

Jimmy dives in without thinking, scrabbling around until his fingers close around the smooth stone and thin band. When he pulls it out, the gem glitters in the starlight even under the layers of dirt, and it looks like something special. It looks like hope.

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #flower husbands #uhh #empires smp #i wont tag 3rd life since its only referenced #my writing

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prismadog · 3 years

Note

I kinda had a suggestion for your au,

So if you don't want to read it, this is your time to delete this ask,

But yeah, maybe Xornoth hasn't been completely corrupted when Scott's people sends them to the nether

As in like, he is definitely very corrupted and evil, but it's not too late for him to become human again

And then [insert something involving Shrub] happens and he is presented the choice of becoming human again and unlocking all the power of exor, at the cost of turning away from his humanity forever

why wouldn't I want to read a suggestion? I love talking to people! and I'd love to hear any feedback, comments, or suggestions!

ooh...I love this idea so much already!

I haven't thought too much about the end game yet but I have thought a bit about pre-exile Xornoth and it's pretty much what you said: maybe they're not fully corrupted and there's a chance for him to return to his former self.

EDIT: this is a quick message from after typing out the below post. I somehow ended up coming up with an end game, idk how that happened but it did. it's not exactly like you suggested but I hope it satisfies well enough. I really loved your ask btw.

also, this is fairly long so I'm putting a "keep reading line below". I think I might have also sort of written a story here? like, I meant for this to be just a little response but...it's not. it's practically a story for how things will go down. obviously, it'll need work, but it's a start!

pre-exile chance

my thoughts: there was one moment when Xornoth really questioned their actions, questioned their blind faith to Exor, questioned how they became a monster when all they wanted was to be the beloved hero that their brother Alinar is.

that moment, it was when they were banished from their home, but before they were exiled to the Nether. the people wanted them gone and they turned to their brother for help, they wanted Alinar to keep the people from banishing them. the moment where Xornoth questioned everything was when Alinar turned his back on them.

they moved to the caves and questioned every single little thing they've ever done - where had they gone wrong? why wasn't Alinar proud of him? maybe...maybe everything they were doing wasn't so good after all.

I believe that if when Alinar had found his brother again, if he had asked Aeor for aid in saving his brother instead of banishing them for good, there would have been a chance for Xornoth to return to his former self. but no, Alinar had to go and remove that chance entirely from the equation and exile his brother in the Nether.

* I'm using the Clash of the Great Stags as reference for that part above. I'm leaving Conal & Alinar's canon story as history for the AU versions, though, there might be a tweak or two in the future, who knows?

but. after reading your suggestion and having a good long think about this...maybe there is still a chance, even after Alinar turned his back on his brother.

so...I'ma gonna hash things out here.

hash out chance

we the fans know that there's going to be some form of "final battle" between the rulers and Xornoth - the same will be true for the AU as well. it'll be Xornoth, Sausage, Joey, and Shrub against everyone else - though, for Shrub, she doesn't want to fight, she doesn't want to see anyone get hurt, she just wants everyone to get along. but she knows that no matter what she does, everyone will end up at the final battle, ready for war.

but before that, there's a lot of moments where, like in canon, everyone is trying to find a cure for the corruption plaguing their lands. Shrub is no different, except, she pushes more towards a cure for people, for the demon themself.

Katherine, Scott, and Gem are more than willing to help her find a cure - they don't really know why Shrub is so insistent on curing the demon, she only ever vaguely tells them her reasons, but they're still going to help her because they're her friends.

during this, Scott will talk to Aeor, wondering if there is a way to cure the corruption at its source - the demon - without shedding any more blood.

Aeor, I know he's supposed to be a good god, believing in peace and equality - and he is a good god, but...I don't think he would want to resolve things between him and Exor peacefully. in the story I linked, he pretty much jumped right into a fight with Exor without hesitation

so, that being said, I don't think things would be any different even if his champion was looking for peaceful solutions. I believe Aeor would want Scott to take up arms against Xornoth and fight for him, to end the corruption once and for all.

Scott would be reluctant of course, torn between his god's wishes and helping his friends. so, maybe he does both - he'll try to help his friends find a cure for the demon but he'll also prepare for the inevitable final battle.

Shrub and her friends work tirelessly trying to find a cure, making several different potions, and each one Shrub takes home with her and gives them to Xornoth. they're reluctant to take the potions but they'll do anything for their gnome, even if it means turning their back on their god and giving up all the power Exor gifted them.

so, Xornoth tries every different potion given to them, even though not a single one has any effect on them, until all options are completely eliminated and the rulers run out of ideas. at that point in time, there is no other choice except war - war between the gods, between their champions, between people who were all once friends but are now on opposing sides.

maybe this is where Shrub breaks completely, at the moment when the others give up. maybe she begs them to keep trying - just one more potion, that's all we need, the next one will be the right one, I just know it, please keep trying, please don't give up yet, we have to keeping trying.

they'll question her on why she wants the demon cured so badly, they'll question despite knowing that she's only going to dodge every question asked.

but this time. this time Shrub doesn't dodge. this time, she stops giving vague answers and she stops telling lies that leave her with a pit in her stomach. this time, she breaks. this time, she tells them the truth. this time, she tells them the story of her life, her connection to the demon and how Xornoth is like a father to her - tending to her injuries, telling her stories, teaching her so many things, but most of all, loving her unconditionally.

she begs their forgiveness for lying to them for so long, begs them to help her find a cure for the only family she's ever known, begs them to not give up yet.

the other rulers would obviously be shocked, some might walk away feeling hurt and betrayed, some might come to Shrub and accept her as the child of the monster that plagues their lands. those that do accept her, they comfort her and she comforts them. they might all keep trying to make a cure, despite how hopeless it seems - they've already failed so many times, what more can they do?

Xornoth would have the same thoughts - what more can the rulers do? everything they tried, every potion made, has failed and it's just going to be more of the same. so, they make a decision, the demon seals their fate, the demon makes the call for war.

they go into the final battle reluctantly, knowing that there's only one true way to cure them and wishing that it didn't have to be with their death. they go into that battle hoping their little Shrub - their sweet, kind girl who showed them a better way of living - will be okay when they're gone. they know that her friends will be there for her so she should be okay, she can survive.

the two sides face off. no one wants to fight. Shrub, though she stands on the side of the rulers, is torn between her friends and her family. everyone there knows that the speeches given by the rulers of the Overworld are a poor attempt at staving off the inevitable.

Xornoth wants to be the one to throw the first punch, to get the ball rolling, get this fight done and over with, but they see their gnome, their beloved child, staring at them from across the battlefield, and she's crying. the battle hasn't even started and yet, she's mourning their death.

they don't attack. they stay their hand. they stand down. they move forward, hands up and open, free of any weapon, and walk gladly towards their demise. no one moves, all are still as the demon approaches, the usual sinister grin replaced by a grimace of heartache.

the demon stops before them, before their little Shrub and before the elf that looks so much like the brother they lost. Xornoth kneels at their feet, they say their parting words of love to their gnome, then they bow their head and tell Aeor's Champion to make it a quick death and please, if you could do me one favor, please don't let Shrub watch, please don't let her be here.

Shrub tries to go to her father's side, tries to beg them not to do this - there's still time, we can still find a way, please don't do this, please don't give up. Katherine and Gem hold her, embrace her in a way that her eyes are shielded from the bloodshed that's soon to come. they look to Scott, he's the one with the powers of a god that can rival the demon's darkness.

Scott is shaking where he stands but it's not from fear. he stands before the demon, above the monster that's terrorized his friends, and in his hands is the weapon that will strike the final blow and end everything. he had thought for a long time that Alinar was right in his actions, following the path Aeor laid out before him, banishing the only family he had to another world.

but standing here, knowing what he knows now about his friend Shrub, what he knows about himself as Aeor's Champion and about his past life as Alinar - he knows that Alinar made the wrong choice, he knows that there is a better way.

Scott, knowing that his next action is going to displease his god, drops the blessed weapon given to him and says - No. he kneels before the monster and says - You will not die today. he embraces the brother he never knew and says - We will find a cure.

this is where Aeor has a choice to make - enact justice on the crimes committed by Exor - or forgive his sins.

the Stag God follows his Champion's lead and chooses forgiveness. he stands before his own brother and chooses to end the war they've fought for eons.

with this, the corruption dies around them and Conal is freed. the demon melts away and an elf emerges from its remains. Conal embraces their brother come back to life and relishes in the life he's been gifted.

Shrub breaks free from her friends and practically crushes her family - both her father and Scott - with an embrace of her own. she cries enough tears for the both of them, though, Conal comes pretty close to out-crying their child.

and with that, the war is over, the demon is defeated, and the Overworld can live in peace once again.

#empires smp #found family au #xornoth adopts child!shubble au #xornoth #shubble #scott smajor #katherine elizabeth #geminitay #aeor #exor #the great stag gods #this took both of my braincells to write but boy was it worth tiring them out #i've never felt so creative!

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capriciouswriter207 · 2 years

Note

*Points at Sausage* someone get this guy some help.

He's gonna have a struggle. Learning your dominant hand isn't going to be able to work or not to what it used to is hard. My left arm was immobile for awhile, we actually didn't know if it would be amputated or not, thankfully damage wasn't that bad. But I had to learn to do everything with my right hand, and with only one hand. Even now my left is as strong as my right hand, so I still do a lot of things with my right, but I try my best to sometimes write or use my left. Everyone is different, some people can switch back without issue and some prefer to use the nondominant as the dominant one in the end. But thankfully he has his sister to help (if he allows her. Stubborn dude) and Rick trying to make him something to help.

I feel Gem would secretly tell one of the rulers if she saw Sausage have an interest in clay, to see if it's something he could do, as she has her plant and finger painting, he needs something to do as well.

The “getting a guard fired” could go one of two ways.

The guards hold back their emotions and guard them as told.

Or they get worse when rulers aren't around, even blaming the Wither for getting their co-workers fired. Use their higher power advantages to threaten them that bad things will happen if they tell, which ultimately makes the Wither sulk in corners or snap at the rulers to “get on with the repercussions already”

There could even be problems with the Wither walking outside, even with guards or Rulers around, citizens could still yell at them or glare at them, blaming them for all that happened. Even going so far as to the bolder ones threatening to find them. Which would obviously be repercussions to them, but they're human, and don't always control their anger the best.

Now that the Wither have their own space, and cleared out one of the bedrooms, they would probably try to practice spar at least once. Though they would be very worried at first because it shows they are still violent, and might make the guards or rulers separate them. So when they were in the room at the castle they didn't do it, and now they only do it quietly when they think guards aren't around. If and when they get caught, they do get told to stay away from each other for a little bit, because it's bad to separate them for a long period of time. And probably questioned separately about why they were fighting each other, told there's better outlets to their emotions, and maybe allowed to spar under supervision so that they aren't hurting each other or damaging anything around them.

Did they keep up with trying to teach Gem to read and write common? Or just realize she'll learn if she wants too, and try with Sausage? If he was willing to sit down with a ruler or some books, how would he feel about it or try to do it?

I feel like the Wither would still make the rulers or guards test the food before eating it, Sausage following Gem’s lead of refusing to eat before someone tests a different part of the food each time, making sure they didn't try to poison or drug them, always choosing a different spot than before, so they couldn't figure out their pattern. How did the rulers and guards feel about doing so originally? And continuing to do so after so long of them being there? I'm sure some would be fine doing it, but some might not like having to do it, even after months of the Wither being there.

I'm gonna have to start splitting my asks up, huh? Well, I used to be ADHD anon for a reason. :3

ฅ(´-ω-`)ฅ

(ฅ^･ω･^ ฅ)

-Kitty

Sausage is gonna need help, especially with accepting that (even with the brace) it’s never gonna fully be what it once was. And that yes, it’s hard, but not the end of the world, it shouldn’t stop you from trying new things. You can learn to live with it. Let Gem help.

If Gem knew about the clay, she’d definitely ask about the possibilities. Anything for the things that Sausage showed an interest in, he desperately needs something to do.

Oh, it could definitely escalate further with these guards. But we can’t underestimate how scary Katherine can be when she’s angry and most guards would probably not want to be at the receiving end of her wrath. She can’t weed out every bad apple in her employ, but she can sure scare them into treating the Wither maybe not with respect, but at least to treat them as people instead of scum.

They haven’t really gone on a walk yet. Gem, with Pearl on castle grounds, but never in the city. She doesn’t really want to (but she wants to) because she fears those reactions. What if she’s recognized, spat at, yelled at for following orders she had no idea she could every defy? For what she thought at the time was the only (right) thing to do? No, castle grounds are safer, despite those bad apples. Sausage doesn’t have an opinion. At least, he thinks he doesn’t have one.

Maybe they already tried sparring. Maybe they already both gave up. It was one of the first things Gem tried to get Sausage to do, so he would at least do something. They went into that spare room and sparred a little, but it wasn’t fun. Not for Sausage, who’s expectations hadn’t been high and still hadn’t been met. Not for Gem, either, who didn’t feel good about this when Sausage didn’t enjoy it. He blamed it on the hand, didn’t respond as it used to. He persisted for a while, to see if he’d get better, but it didn’t and… well, the guards never found out. They didn’t need to know the Wither tried to spar. They’d only laugh at Sausage’s failure and weakness anyway.

Yeah, they’re still trying to teach her. Gandalf sometimes challenges her to read the words in front of her during magic classes, which often lead to hilarity, but writing is a little harder than she expected it to be. Sausage, on the other hand, isn’t really interested in learning this skill. He feels he doesn’t need to know how to read and write in their common, he’s very happy with the writing system he and his siblings have developed. Gem tried to get him to try it, and he did and he didn’t like it (this happened when he was still in grumpy mode and didn’t like anything). If he ever wants to learn it, it’s not gonna happen in the Overgrown.

Katherine was a little worried about the food-testing habit carrying over from Rivendell, but Scott never thought too much of it and neither should Katherine. They’re just being careful. She did tell the guards that when they brought food, it was expected of them to just take a bite of whatever Gem or Sausage pointed at. For some, it meant arguing with colleagues about who would bring the food to have a bite to eat during work. Others thought it ridiculous, because if Katherine wanted to subdue the Wither, it wouldn’t be through the food. After a couple months, maybe even after they trust the world around them enough, some might start to wonder why they continue to do it. Sausage and Gem would claim it’s almost become a tradition by now, and who knows, maybe they’re just waiting for the Wither to stop doing this before slipping in that poison or those drugs. You can never be careful enough.

You can start splitting them up again if you'd like. It might make me elaborate a little more about these topics (more than I already have, anyway).

(previous | masterpost | next)

#wither au #mythicalsausage #geminitay #these kinds of asks are the reason we're gonna be stuck in this peace for a while #i thought i had it all planned out #nope here's an ask that inspires another entry #and before we know it #we're off course #not completely #but these are sparking my creativity #and push back those entries i'd already written #it just means more content for you

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honestsycrets · 3 years

Text

What She Really Wants X: What Really Matters

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | hvitserk has a way of getting what he wants. magnus is sick of being one-upped.

❛ tags | verbal arguments, wedding oriented, referenced underage sex, referenced sexual interaction, underage relationships, original characters.

❛ sy’s notes | i've actually had this fic done for some months and totally forgot about it until i was in my drive. thank you @chibisgotovalhalla for making me feel good enough to post this. It’s more a connecting chapter.

What Magnus hates about Hvitserk (aside from everything) is how whatever he said, went with you.

The world could crumble, pebbles could shake boulders on your house, and you would still have Hvitserk on your mind. Because he was your first-- and no one could beat a first. No matter how he worked or raged for a new beginning or for better for Mads. It was still Hvitserk at the end of the day. Mads’s eyes had almost popped out of his skull when Magnus joined the clustered group of friends and parents. It hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“What did I miss?” he asks because he knows Mads by the expression slapped over his face. That boy has been like his son. He raised him. Loved him.

“Nothing,” Mads quips quickly, snapping his head back around to the field. His coach howls something long and loud. Mads jabs his finger in that direction. “The game is about to start. C’mon Soren.”

Despite the fact that Magnus knew there was a certain something very wrong, he didn’t speak as you returned to a very familiar set of bleachers alongside Mad’s new girlfriend. She was pretty. There was a soft and innocent glitter behind those big brown eyes that reminds him of a simpler time in yours. He makes a note to ask Mads after the game all about her when Hvitserk stops on the uppermost stair, guiding you in after Alaia.

It’s not until they sit, and your hand is laced in Hvitserk’s, does he notice the gems glistening on your finger.

“What’s that?” he asks, leaning over Alaia’s lap. The girl squints at the rings too, watching it glisten, and smiles when she realizes that she’s forgotten to say something. She speak words that make his stomach drop. As if someone had hauled him off to sea, strapped that very same boulder shook loose by his crumbling world, and threw him out into the deep sea. He was drowning and couldn’t find a way out.

“Oh my god! Congratulations on your engagement, mama,” she beams. “Can I see the ring?”

Magnus sputters. He’s caught between your jovial smile and Hvitserk’s smug smirk as his eyes burned into the glittering gem. Hvitserk’s hand leaves yours, taking a drink of the metal tumbler that he brought with him as if that would draw attention away from what he’s done this time.

“There’s two?” Alaia asks.”Papa you didn’t. You’ve gone so far!”

Hviserk chuckles and swashing alcohol between his cheeks before swallowing the spicy liquid.

“We were engaged in high school. Hvitserk thought I should wear both.”

“Gonna put that money to use,” Hvitserk mutters, the faint scent of yeasty alcohol on his breath kissing your cheeks. He looks out to the field and catches Mads sheepishly waving. He waves back. “Been waitin’ to get married to my old lady for years.”

“It’s going to be so great,” she claps her hands together. “I’m happy for you.”

The field cheers through the end of the national anthem. Two dozen players jog onto the grassy stage, flicking the ball between their feet. Go Mads, go! Alaia squeals until her voice becomes high pitched, grating, and odd. She’s the kind of girl that should be on a cheerleading team, but belongs on the football team. She’s outgoing, witty, and you find you like her.

For all that screaming, Mads’s team loses 2 to 1. Alaia beats you off the bleachers and zooms down the stairs to find your son. You’re stuck with the impending explosion that has been boiling to ahead all evening. It finally overflows as people filter out of the bleachers like a herd of stampeding cattle. Their loud chatter blocks out the bulk of conversation.

“You really thought that was a good idea.” Magnus curls his fingers under the cold metal of the bleacher seat. “He hasn’t been back a year and you’re already going to marry him.”

“What is with you? It is her choice,” Hvitserk interjects.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Fuck off, rat faced motherfucker.” Hvitserk snaps. “You don’t know when to quit bitchin’.”

It’s spiraling. You know the men well enough to know when Magnus and Hvitserk are headed for trouble. Hvitserk loves a good fight. He lurches up in his seat, probably ready to chuck him down a few flights of bleacher stairs. You grasp Hvitserk’s hand, settling it on your thigh for to restrain him from doing something that you knew he’d regret. Not for his sake, but Mads. Rather than answer Magnus, you stand up and wipe your skirt down.

“Mads is waiting. C’mon baby.”

You leave him feeling unheard. In the seventeen years that Mads had been alive, he’d not once felt this way. He had been the father figure here. The one who took the kid out to these father events that you lost with the death of your father and the disappearance of your family from Hvitserk’s clutches.

Then he came back. He gave Magnus that same, age-old shit-eating grin, and disappeared behind you. It wouldn’t have burned so much if he wasn’t at the exact same school of the past. The same one where he got his teeth knocked in-- right here. The bleachers may be different but the area is the same. It’s the same place where everything changed. He sits there long after you’ve disappeared down the steps to meet your son.

“Where’s morbror?” Mads, sweaty and panting, has his hand slung over Alaia’s shoulder.”I thought he was coming for burgers.”

You reach for Hvitserk’s hand and lace his fingers with yours. Hvitserk stands behind you with his hand latched neatly around your waist. He cradles your hip as you come up with the latest of poorly formulated excuses.

“He has to go to work in the morning, baby.”

Better you lie than Hvitserk.

Alaia is way too touchy.

You recognize it in the way she clings to his arm on one hand and punches him with the other. Whatever the cost was, she had to be touching him. All over him. Not just a little friendly kiss or holding hands, but you know for a damn fact that she strokes his thigh or trails up the taut pale muscles of his flat belly.

“They’re fucking,” you say pointedly.

Hvitserk throws a look over his shoulder to where they were a few rows down. Alaia slips a salty-sweet strawberry candy between Mads’s lips. Alaia’s other hand is certainly not on her own lap, that’s for sure.

“Huh?” Hvit says around a half eaten sausage. He takes a swig of his booze, “Ya think?”

You thwack him in the arm and glance at the dark aisle beside you. The movie Mads wanted to watch was old. So much so that the theatre reflected its age. “How is he not fucking her? Hvitserk!”

Hvitserk took a glance down. From what he could tell, Mads was the shy one. He glanced down to what had to be a handsy— because he had plenty of those in his day.

“Calm down. He ain’t initiating anything.”

“So she’s a predator?” You hiss.

“C’mon baby, they're the same age.” He says, as if that’s exclusionary, and as if that made any difference in the world. “Ain’t like he’s screamin’ for help.”

There’s a shush— the next few aisles down.

“Aw, you poutin?”

No reply. Hvitserk glances toward Mads and Alaia, content with his choice, and slips his hand underneath the lip of your skirt. He considers himself a rather patient man but your worries when all he wanted to do was relax? Na.

“Hvit stop— We used to be like that. Remember?” Hvitserk cuts you off, rubbing his thumb where he shouldn’t, cutting an outrageous smile.

“This isn’t about us.”

“Ain’t it?”

It’s not. The soft tingles of his fingertips, caressing your thighs, runs shivers up your spine. Your hand falls on top of his wrist, holding him firmly where he was. Hvitserk glances down toward his hand, then back up. An easy fix: you loved it when he pressed his lips to your neck.

“You’re doing it again.”

Hvitserk’s lips part, broadening his shit eating smile. “Doing what?”

Oh, he knew what. But he loved being called out for it.

His far isn’t bad at football.

“Fuckin’ what the fuck was that!”

The ball whizzed into the goal behind him and Mads was left wheezing for breath. Not because he was tired. The old man might only be thirty-six but he sucked at playing against him. Hvitserk plucked up the football between his fingers and spun it over and over between his finger tips. He twisted his head from the goal to the ball in his hands.

“A goal,” Mads gestures. “You know? Or, guess you don’t since you ain’t scored all night.”

“Shits rigged,” Hvitserk says, dropping the ball and kicking it back to Mads.

Mads shrugs and suggests, “Should’ve picked something you’re good at. You won’t beat me at this.”

“Tch,” Hvitserk throws his arms behind his head. “I ain’ good at shit.”

Except maybe selling drugs and chasing prostitutes. All of which his father has made exponentially clear he doesn’t want Mads doing. Mads stops with his sneaker on top of the ball, rolling it up and back, then flicks it between his feet.

“Have to be good at something. Don’t you have a hobby or something?”

Hvitserk peels off his white shirt sodden with sweat and uses it to wipe away the moist sweat dribbling past his eyebrow. He gestures his hand to the dark wooden wedding band that was strapped to his finger. The wedding is next week and while he’s not technically married yet, Hvitserk wore it as some sort of unspoken promise.

“My hobby was women. Not allowed to do that shit anymore. Getting married next week, yeah?”

“Wow, well, uh.” Mads picks up the ball at his feet and searches for words. It’s always nice-- when your own son is amazed at how amazingly shitty of a person you were. Hvitserk chews his cheek, running his thumb along the drawstring at his hips to tighten it up. They walk lazily with one another to start the trek back home.

“I...” Hvitserk starts. “Liked to paint.”

“Gang signs?” he teases. He imagines his father with a can of spray paint or something-- tagging some poor idiot’s unsuspecting business.

“Na, women-- like Renoir.”

“Ren who?”

“I fuckin’ hope ya ain’t going to France like that,” he tsks his tongue, throwing his hand around Mads’s shoulder, chasing away the thought of the Wolves that were so at the forefront of his mind. “Take a class in French first.”

“I’m taking Spanish.”

“Spanish? Wha’s so important about-- oh wait. Fuck,” Hvitserk almost laughs, but it comes with the realization that Mads’s little girlfriend was, in fact, Hispanic. He ruffles Mads’s sweaty hair, shaking loose droplets into the air. “Tha’s my boy.”

There are moments in which Mads feels like his father’s son.

Today was one of them.

The date sped up on him faster than it should have.

This time, Hvitserk was insistent: the wedding had to happen as soon as possible. After all, he was thirty-six. He wasn’t going to be a man that was forty and single. No, he wasn’t. Not if he had everything he wanted; a woman and his very own grown-ass son. He had something to prove to that son. That he was serious about his family.

“What’cha think,” Hvitserk grumbled. His hair, newly cropped short, waved in silky honey waves around the side of his face. His jaw was peppered with a new sort of scruff, worlds apart from his clean-shaven, long-haired past. The suit was slim, crisp, monochrome like you liked it. Better be like you liked it: he wasn’t the type to wear suits for just anyone. His woman? Special exception there.

His son stood back. “Yeah, looks nice.”

“Yeah?”

He slipped in front of the mirror and gave himself a once over. He turns the ring on his finger over and over until he has residual finger ring burn. He bites down on his lip, ripping it between his teeth. It wasn’t just saying goodbye to his single man’s life; it was the fact that his remaining brothers were coming. Bjorn, Ivar, and Ubbe. Would Mads like them?

“Where my boots?”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t anxious. There’s a powerful thud at the door, then another. Booming laughs fill in the hallway just outside the room. Hvitserk exhales strongly. His large hand lands on Mads’s shoulder with a clasp.

“Those would be your uncles.”

Mads, the little baby, looks panicked as the door cracks open. Ivar knocks open the door, dressed in a deep maroon and black suit. It’s crisp and formed to his chest. You should at least like it-- given the shit that Ivar has given you this year, he looks good. Why would be expect anything less?

“Man c’mon,” Hvitserk rolls his eyes. “Could’ve waited man. My kid--”

“Why would I wait?” Ivar hums, hobbling forward. “You’ve been keeping my nephew hostage from me. Come here boy.”

“With good reason,” Sigurd can’t help but to comment. “You don’t really want to know him. He’s a--”

“Would you both shut up,” Mads hears another man say. He has ruddy hair and a ruddy beard, with sharp blue eyes. He is almost considerate-- if not for the wolfish look in his eyes, he could almost be considered the most placid of the brothers. Instead, he seems to be someone who is always planning. “You’ll scare him away.”

Hviserk settles a lily in the pocket to his suit and fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves. Strange, he thinks, how you pick lilies. They’re a bittersweet flower for him to this day. When he bought you flowers, they were roses. Whatever possessed you to chose lilies, he’s not sure. It couldn’t possibly be-- Thora. No, you couldn’t remember her.

“Far,” Mads looks over and pleads for some guidance in those soft, bright eyes of his. His eyes snap toward Ivar’s dragging feet, then the drunken stamped in from huge Bjorn and comparatively more calculated steps from Ubbe. “Help.”

“What is there to be afraid of, hm?”

“Go on, go to Ivar.” Hvitserk swings his hands at his hips. Mads looks up the broad body of the blond man and inches toward the darkest haired brother. Probably not the safest of brothers to be speaking to but he’s heard his name multiple times before. Uncle Ivar was scary. And safe. “They won’t hurt you. They’re my brothers.”

“You want a drink, boy?!”

“A dr-- drink?”

Hvitserk wonders why he ever thought he could be a Wolf.

Asta has always been supportive. Too supportive. You knew, somewhere inside, she wasn’t happy about your choice to get married to a man that had gotten her into some trouble. Her whole life could have gone down the tubes thanks to him.

“Are you sure about this?” she said in her slim baby pink maid-of-honor dress. Your hairdresser affixed a soft baby pink pearl pin into your hair. “You can always wait like we said.”

“Waiting…” You glanced down toward your dress, smoothing out the dress’s slim bodice, leading out into its flowy a-line tulle skirt. Your loved the crisscrossing pearls that formed the straps over your shoulder and connected front and back-- maybe a little sexy for your hypersexual husband-to-be. Everything had gone perfectly. Your make up-- a natural, gentle shimmery pink. Everything was soft and natural, and pretty-- and you were so damn happy. “I’ve been waiting long enough.”

“I know.”

“And I want to do it,” you held the bouquet of fresh pink lilies. “I want him.”

“That’s too much information,” she teases.

The door creaked open behind you. While subconsciously, you knew that it wasn’t him-- you needed to know. “Magnus isn’t coming, is he?”

“It’s just me, mor.”

You exhale forcefully. You knew it would be a stretch to ask Magnus to give you away. After what happened to your father, Magnus had agreed to do so with whoever you chose. For sixteen years you banked on that promise. Only now, when it came down to it, he refused to do so.

“It’s a silly tradition anyway.”

Asta begins to protest that she can do it when your son, bless him, intervenes by kneeling down by your knee. His large hands overtook yours. Your hairdresser stepped aside after having affixed the veil to the top of your head. Everything had been going so well. Something… had to go wrong, right? That was the way that days went. They could never be absolutely perfect!

“I’ll do it. I can give you away.”

“You’d do that?” you ask him, unbelievably. You look between Asta-- and Alaia, who looks angelic in a puffy pink dress beside your son. Mads perches kneels beside you, looking like all the man you ever hoped he could be in every sleepless night that you spent up with him as a baby-- wishing that Hvitserk was there. Knowing that your mother said he could never be.

“But you thought I should wait.”

“Yeah but; I love you. That’s what matters, right? That you’re happy?”

That, more than anything, was enough for you. You press back the insistent prick of heat at the corner of your eyes and nod. As you stand up on clumsy metal heels, your boy is there with his hand encouragingly around your waist. Alaia looks for your bouquet of assorted blush and white flowers: lilies.

For a moment-- just a moment, its you and him. No one else matters in the grand scheme of things. He settles the bouquet of flowers between your fingertips, pulling the sheer veil back over your face. “You look… perfect, mor. He’s missing out.”

“Yeah, that’s what matters, baby.”

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm

#hvitserk x reader #hvitserk/reader #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #hvitserk's heathen feast #honestsycrets fics #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #hvitserk x you #hvitserk/you

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randomingoftherandomness · 3 years

Text

Fic: All we do is think about the feelings that we hide

Fandom: The Old Guard (2020)

Pairing: Booker x Joe x Nicky, Booker x Nicky, Booker & Nile, mention of Andy x Quynh

Tags: Secret Relationship, Established Relationship, Angst, Booker’s Self-Worth Issues, Mentions of Double Penetration, Otherwise no graphic sex in this fic

A/N: For the always darling @bewires who is a delight and a gem. I made this more Booker x Nicky focused coz... My brain needed some streamlining and so here it is? I hope you’ll like it nonetheless x

When they walk together, Joe and Nicky take the lead up front while Nile hooks an arm around Booker’s. He is careful to keep his eyes from following them when they move through the crowds of locals and tourists alike that pack the Christmas market and doubly more deliberate in his attempts to cajole Nile into trying a sausage or a cup of mulled wine, or what about that shop with those knick knacks?

If her indulgent smile is anything to be judged by, Booker thinks it’s not working.

Coming to the Christmas market had been Joe’s idea. A chance for them to spend some time together. The exact thing Booker had been wanting to avoid at all cost. Since his return, Joe, Nicky, and himself had taken a weekend off to have the screaming and sparring and sex sessions that resulted in a mutual agreement to take things slower this time. As if everything they’d done prior to his exile had been wrong footed and untrue. Desperate with want - which in fairness, he had had Nicky’s cock in his ass and Joe’s waiting to press up against it at the time - Booker had agreed to it.

“-buy as Christmas gifts?”

Nile’s question hangs in the winter air between them before Booker inelegantly mumbles a, “Hm?” to her incredulous amusement. “I was just asking what Joe and Nicky would buy as Christmas gifts?” She repeats, bumping their shoulders together. He had been infinitely grateful that when Joe posited the trip to the Christmas market, Nile had piped up and said it was a great idea. At least he wouldn’t have to walk alone while Joe and Nicky held hands and strolled through the crowd together.

“They usually try to make things for other people during Christmas. One year, Joe painted Nicky in that pose that Kate Winslet did in Titanic. I think it’s still hanging in their house in Malta,” Booker says with a fond smile as the memory comes to him. “You should visit them there when you have a chance to.”

“Have you ever been to Malta?”

“A few times,” Booker hedges carefully, guiding her towards a stall that is selling some Christmas candy.

“How many times is a few times?” Nile asks, completely undettered. God, he should’ve known she would have latched on to that little tidbit.

“I’ve known them almost the entirety of my immortal life, Nile,” He says with a careful smile while he picks up a bag of chocolate peppermint sticks and pays for it. “It would be only natural for me to know how their favourite safehouse looks like.”

Nile frowns but doesn’t continue that thread of thought because Joe is cutting through to them with a glint of unholy glee as he declares that they’ve found an ice-rink.

The thing is, when Joe, Nicky, and Booker agreed to take this relationship slowly, only Booker was paying attention to the rules of the game. The agreement to try was still fresh and Booker can still feels the phantom weight of their cocks in him as they came, filling him up in this covenant they’d made.

He’d been beyond relieved and grateful that they’d even wanted to try at all that he knew that he would have rather died a true death than allow himself to fuck it all up again. Booker had barely survived that first heartache of being sent away. He knows he won’t a second time.

So, he plays a game with himself; how many times can he stop himself from looking at them? How many times can he resist from reaching out them and asking for some reassurance or comfort? To fall easily against them on the sofa and tangle their limbs together? To have the simple pleasures that comes with being in a relationship with another party; to know their kisses, their hands in his own, the weight of their embraces, their laughters and gazes. Booker packs all his yearning and focuses on maintaining the facade that for anyone who cared to look, it was Joe and Nicky and no one else.

When he had gone through this the first time around, he knows or at least had the suspicion that Andy knew why he’d always slept close to Joe and Nicky, or why there had been a fair few times when they’d gone out together as a foursome and disappeared together as a three. She’d never spoken to him about it. Booker misses her for that.

With Nile, that bag of rules went out the window the moment he had a second to truly know his sister.

Now that Andy was off galivanting the world with Quynh on some long, protracted second honeymoon, they’re lucky to get her on the phone for more than 15 minutes sometimes. But she is happy, and they will see each other again. This left Nile in charge and she takes to it like a duck to water. Which is perhaps the reason why she clings to Booker and tugs him to the ice where a slew of laughing and screaming people are having their wintertime fun out on the town square.

“Nile, leave him be,” Nicky says with a gentle smile, prying her away from Booker.

Joe suitably distracts her by pulling her to join the line for the skate rentals. “Thanks,” He says, tucking his hands into his coat pockets, carefully angling his body away from the ice. “You should go join them. Have a bit of fun. I’ll just get myself a hot drink and wait for you somewhere nearby, okay?”

Nicky shakes his head, still smiling. “Ah, I don’t feel up for it. I think I’ll stay with you.”

“But you like ice-skating,” Booker replies with a frown. “Andy and I had to convince you not to make a bid for the Winter Olympics, remember?”

“I remember, yes. You always had a good memory for things like that, Basti,” Nicky laughs fondly. Taking him by the elbow, he guides them both to the nearest hot chocolate stand. “Perhaps I want to spend some time with you instead, hm? Joe had been a bit upset that Nile wanted to join us. He’d been talking about how romantic it would be to visit the Christmas market with us both.”

Booker orders their drinks and does his damndest not to look at Nicky when he says, “That’s very nice of him to want that but wouldn’t coming here with you suit him better?”

Nicky doesn’t say a thing to that and they wait for their drinks, absconding to find a free bench to wait for Joe and Nile. “Sometimes just when I think we’re alright, you say things like that that make me think that we’re stil back at square one.” He shrugs when Booker turns to him. “I think we’re okay and then you... Avoid Joe and I. Turn away from our kisses, look away when we catch you looking, hide your hands when all I want to do is hold them and kiss them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?” Nicky asks, eyes clear and devoid of judgement. “Basti, we love you so much. We are ready to shout it from the rooftops and scream it to anyone who would care to listen, but everytime we think you are ready for that, you seem to shy away from us.”

“It’s just easier,” Booker breathes, exhalation coiling in the cold air between them to mingle with the steam rising from their hot chocolate.

“Easier for who?”

“For all of us. I-I... I want to be loved, I do. But for so long now I have found myself not being worthy of you and after London,” He pauses. “After London, I believed I had lost any hope of being with both of you. Then, we had that weekend away and we said we would try, that we would do this differently. So, I tried.”

“Oh, Booker,” Nicky sighs.

He sets his drink down by his feet, swallowing tightly. Nicky does the same after a moment and takes Booker’s hand in between his own. Keeping his gaze fixed on their palms pressed together, he glavanises himself to speak.

“The first time we got together, you never asked me for any intimacy when we were in public, and I was alright with that. It had been just the both of you for so long, of course it would feel weird with a third. It was okay. Now, this time round, I taught myself not to want it because...”

“Because?” Nicky urges him on, shuffling closer.

“Because I don’t think I can survive being sent away by you again,” The truth tumbles forth in a whisper. “Because I drank myself to death twice before Quynh showed up and I know if I have to leave you again, I won’t survive a third.”

Nicky leans in, wrapping him in an embrace that Booker accepts with his arms around Nicky’s waist. He buries his nose in his scarf, trying to stop the shaking of his limbs.

“I love you both so much, but I’m scared. All the time. What if I kiss you and Joe, and I’m turned away? I know you love me, but will you love me if I make a mistake again? Because I will, you know I will. I don’t think I can do this if I fuck this up again.”

Careful fingers curl through the back of his head, keeping his face tucked to Nicky’s shoulder. After a beat, he speaks. “Do you trust me? Do you trust Joe?”

“With my life.”

“Then, trust me when I say that we’re never going to give you up,” Nicky says, turning his lips to the shell of Booker’s ear as he continues. “Never gonna run around and desert you, never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye-”

“Oh, fuck off,” Booker gasps, choking on a wet laugh as he pulls away only to be dragged back into a quick press of a kiss tinged with happiness.

“Hey, I want a kiss, too!”

Booker startles and makes to jump apart at the sound of Joe’s voice but Nicky holds firm. “Well darling, take a number,” He says sweetly, turning Booker’s attention back to him and sliding their mouths into another kiss that leaves him melting into Nicky’s arms.

He can’t see it but he hears the absolute triumph in Nile’s voice when she says, “Oh my god, Andy owes me 500 euros.”

#booker x joe x nicky #booker x nicky #booker & nile #the old guard fic #bewires #gab writes stuff

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andiinaraethtash · 2 years

Text

Chapter Two is up!

here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35710339/chapters/89131252

Here's the chapter:

Tell Me Why Good Things Have to Die Notes:I'm glad all of you seemed to like the first chapter! Here's the next one. The update schedule might be a little wonky at fist, what with the winter holidays coming up, but after that, I'll try to do two chapters a week. Until then... no promises

TW: discussions of MCD, vomiting... I think that's it? Let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter title for Didn't I, by OneRepublic

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

The words don’t process immediately. When they finally do, Sausage can’t help the hysterical laugh that bubbles up in his chest. “You need to work on your sense of humour, Pearl,” He manages between gasps for air, “‘cause that’s not funny in the slightest.” Yes, he knows he’s laughing, but honestly, he’s laughing at her, not because of her joke (and it has to be a joke, right? No way fWhip could be… could be dead) .

Pearl stands there, solemn. The only show of emotion is the single tear that traces a line down her cheek.

The laugh dies in Sausage’s throat.“Pearl? That’s not funny. It’s really, really not funny, you can just stop pretending now.”

“Sausage…”

He shakes his head. “No, no. No, that’s not possible. You can just tell me he’s going to be alright, there’s no need to pull my leg.”

“Sausage.” Her voice is firm now, not a hint of the waver it held before.

He ignores her. “I mean, he’s always been fine. Like, he came back after the arena fight, and when I shot him in midair that one time, and way back when when I accidentally dropped an anvil on his head. I mean, he’s fine, he’s always—”

“Sausage.”

This time he can’t ignore her. “What?”

She looks so devastated now, pity and grief intermingling into a mixture that made his stomach churn. “He’s gone, Sausage. He’s dead.”

The hysteria bubbling up inside him is coming to a boil, and he shakes his head as tears begin to to form in his eyes. “No. No, he can’t… he’s not…”

Pearl reaches out and puts a hand on his arm, and he immediately shakes her off, emotions colliding and exploding inside him. “No! Don’t touch me!”

“Sausage—” Pearl starts, and Sausage cuts her off.

“You’re a liar! You know I would never hurt him, not permanently, so you’ve got to be lying, or it’s a prank. Please let it be a prank, please. It’s not funny, Pearl, it’s not funny!”

She lifts her chin—at least he thinks she does, it’s hard to tell because the edges of his vision are getting blurry—and states, “You’re my friend, and I know you were his, too, Sausage, and you weren’t in control. But you did it. You killed him.”

Sausage shakes his head, sending tears spilling down his cheeks (so that’s why everything is so blurry) and making the edges of his vision go grey, and stumbles back a step back. “I—I need to go—I have to—you’re lying, it’s just another prank, he’s not—I would never hurt him!”

“Sausage—!” Pearl starts, taking a step forward, but Sausage is too fast. He has his rockets in his elytra and is taking off before she can get within arms’ reach.

She’s after him almost immediately, of course, but he ignores her shouts as he tries to hurry to the Grimlands because fWhip will be there, fWhip will tell him that Pearl is just pulling his leg, will tease him about how he’s got tears streaming down his face and ask if he really means that much to him.

(Of course he does, fWhip’s his best friend, hell, they’d adopted each other as siblings when they were younger, them and Gem, and he still holds that oath they’d made to always be there for each other close to his chest, like it’s the most sacred thing in the world, like it’s as fragile and wonderful and precious as a baby bird.)

But Pearl is catching up to him now, and as he loads another half-dozen rockets into his elytra in midair, she swoops in from above him and tackles him to the ground.

They land hard, knocking the wind from Sausage’s lungs, and he lays there amidst Katherine’s flowers gasping for air, for more than one reason. He’s light-headed, has tears streaming down his face, and is trying hard not to gasp in pain as his ribs protest the abuse.

Pearl recovers first, which isn’t surprising. She’d landed on top of him, after all, for all that she’d tried to rotate them so they shared the blow.

“You can’t go to the Grimlands, Sausage,” Pearl says hoarsely. “You’re not on Gem’s good side, and she’s all but taken over there.”

Sausage manages to sit up, groaning all the while, then slumps. Yeah, that makes sense. Gem, despite having given up her inheritance when she ran off to join the people of the Crystal Cliffs, would technically be next in line for the title of Countess of the Grimlands. And if he was the one to kill her twin…

Abruptly, he turns and vomits. Stars, he’d killed fWhip. And not just that, but he’d done it with his soul eater, in front of his sister, probably leaving her to cradle his bloody body… And the soul eater would have devoured him, there was no way he was coming back. fWhip’s last memory of him would be him trying to kill Gem, and succeeding in killing him.

He throws up again.

There’s a comforting hand on his back, rubbing circles that leave him feeling like he needs to claw his skin off where she touches him. Blindly, he bats her hand away, not tearing his eyes of the bile seeping into the earth.

“Hey,” Pearl says gently, “it wasn’t your fault, we all know that. It’s just going to take some time… for all of us.”

It takes a minute for Sausage to find his voice. “You should hate me.”

She sighs. “Maybe. But I don’t. I hate Xornoth, because if you don’t remember doing it, it’s most likely that he was in control in that moment.”

Sausage scoffs. “I do remember, Pearl. I remember swinging the scythe. I remember Gem screaming for him, and I remember Xornoth laughing as I died. He wanted fWhip gone, and I… I did that for him.”

Pearl doesn’t say anything for a moment, then she pulls him close and gives him another, much gentler hug. He didn’t know she could give gentle hugs, but he clings to her anyway, holding on for dear life as he starts sobbing.

Because fWhip is dead, and he killed him.

________

Katherine finds them a few hours later, well after Sausage has run out of tears and has started screaming obscenities at the sky, at Xornoth, at himself for falling in with the demon. Still, Pearl holds him as the sovereign of the Overgrown lands gracelessly beside them.

Sausage quiets as he hears Katherine asking Pearl what happened, his throat sore from shouting, and the fire that had blazed in his chest reduced to embers.

“He didn’t remember,” Pearl tells Katherine softly. “He didn’t know, then when I told him… I think it all came back.”

Katherine seemed to take a moment to process that, then sighs. “So he really is… himself again?”

He feels Pearl’s chin hit his shoulder as she nods. “He didn’t believe it at first. I think he was planning on flying all the way to the Grimlands.”

Katherine hisses, then sighs again. “Come on, I’ll let you stay the night in my castle. Might as well, it’ll be dark soon.”

Pearl nods again, then hoists Sausage to his feet. He stares listlessly forward, barely moving his feet in time to keep up with Pearl’s large steps.

They make it to the castle right before nightfall, and Katherine shows Pearl a bedroom to deposit Sausage in, before both women disappear down the corridors. As soon as the sound of their footsteps vanish, he sits up, grabs his elytra—which will probably break soon, but he has to know— and opens the window of the bedroom he’s in.

They didn’t take his rockets, either, just removed his elytra and set the few shulker boxes he had on him to the side. So with those all in his inventory, he takes off into the night, using as few rockets as possible, so as not to alert Pearl or Katherine or any of Katherine’s guards that he was leaving.

He spots several mobs coming out under the cover of darkness, looking for easy prey, but he ignores them, soaring right past Rivendell, over the Lost Empire, and into the dry plains of the Grimlands.

The streets of the capital are empty. He’s not surprised, seeing as it’s closer to midnight than it is to evening. Still he lands in the dimly lit streets. A part of him tells him that if the streets are this quiet, there’s no memorial being held, so fWhip must be alright, right? The other part of him remembers that according to Grimlands’ traditions, fWhip’s body would be cremated and tossed into the fields, and he would never be spoken of again.

Which doesn’t seem fair to Sausage. fWhip had done such great things, had built such great things—and why is Sausage referring to him in the past tense? He has no proof of fWhip’s death, so he still might be alive.

He glances around, sees a few figures through windows that quickly have their shutters closed, and sighs heavily. Even if—though, he corrects himself, even though—he didn’t kill fWhip, he still would have hurt him, and badly. No wonder he isn’t welcome.

Still, he presses on, marching through the gates, up the path to the manor that fWhip has called home for the entirety of the time Sausage has known him.

The guards at the front gate immediately level their (fWhip designed, fWhip approved) crossbows at him, and he raises his empty hands in submission.

“Um, take me to your leader?” He says, and the guards exchange a look. They don’t say anything, but one of them flips a lever (probably also fWhip’s invention) and Sausage hears a bell ring somewhere inside the manor. It takes a few minutes, during which neither guard lowers their weapon, but a few more guards come out, then freeze at the sight of him.

He grimaces. This is going to be painful.

“He has requested to be brought to our leader,” One of the two original guards says, and the leader of the new group of guards shakes himself.

“Of course, sir.”

He turns stiffly, and Sausage follows him, deeply aware of the guards that fall into place around him, their fingers on triggers, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. They march purposefully through the manor, towards the study.

Idly Sausage knows that should bother him—if fWhip was injured, he’d be in his room, and if he wasn’t he’d more likely than not be in his workshop—but he shoves that knowledge to the side and focuses on making sure he doesn’t stumble over his own feet. He’s graceful enough in battle, but just walking somehow trips him up sometimes.

They arrive at the study, and the guards usher him in without a word of introduction. The doors slam behind him with a sense of finality, making him nearly jump out of his skin.

Turning back around, he marvels at the room, with its dark walls and massive fireplace, which has two high-backed chairs in front of it. He catches a glimpse of red hair in one of the seats, and almost sighs in relief before the person the hair’s attached to speaks.

“I’m not in the mood, Rohan.”

It’s Gem. It’s Gem’s voice, it’s Gem who they took him to, it’s Gem who’s their leader, not fWhip, because—because fWhip is dead and gone and Sausage killed him.

He manages to contain the sob, but only barely. Instead he squeaks out, “Gem?”

Immediately the wizard is on her feet, sword pointed at him and a fireball at the end of her staff. She doesn’t fire it, though, just stares at him for a long moment before letting the fireball dissipate and slumping. “Here to kill me, too? Get on with it.”

Sausage can’t contain the gasp-sob-squeak noise that comes out of his mouth. “I—I’m so sorry, Gem. No one was supposed to get hurt—”

“Well, they did.” The idea of Gem snapping at him has him flinching almost as much as her actually doing it. She’s always so mild-mannered and optimistic. Now she just seems… tired. She’s hurting, he knows, but he wasn’t expecting her to be this broken.

He doesn’t know what to say. Is there anything to say? “I… I’m so sorry. I don’t even remember… not completely. I know it was my fault, but I didn’t want to believe it, and—oh, Gem, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t bring him back,” She says, and she might as well have punched him because that would have hurt less.

“I know,” the first of the newest wave of sobs bubbles out of him. “I know, and I’d give anything to have him be the one that came back, but I can’t. I—”

She snarls and points her staff at him. “Don’t, Sausage. Don’t make this about you. This is about fWhip, this is about my brother whom you killed, and sorry doesn’t bring him back.”

Sausage stumbles back a step, not sure what else he can say. Is there anything else to say? “I’ll go. I just… Was there a funeral?”

Gem sighed and set down her staff, deflating to the point of collapse as she sank down into the chair she’d pushed slightly to the side when she’d stood so abruptly. “No. You know the Grimlands: the dead don’t exist. We just move forward.”

Noting her use of the word ‘we,’ he sighs heavily. “I think Pix and the rest of the Codfather alliance are having a thing at the Vigil.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” she murmurs, and reaches for a mug set on the table beside her chair. “fWhip really brought us all together, you know? If it weren’t for him, we’d have continued being separate empires sharing space, rather than friends.”

Sausage wants to protest that—after all, he, Gem and fWhip had been childhood friends and he had known Pearl almost as long—but he realized, in a way, it’s true. Sure, fWhip is—was—chaotic, and ambitious, and had a certain level of cunning to him, but he was also kind, and protective, and fiercely loyal to his friends. It had been him that had made the overtures of friendship toward Sausage, him that had made sure to include Gem in every game even when she would rather be reading a book.

It had been fWhip that had organized the meeting of the twelve empires—though only nine of them showed up, Jimmy being late and Shrub and Joey missing the invitations altogether—so that they could begin a new era of alliances, friendships, and rivalries. It had been his prank war on Jimmy and the rest of the Codfather Alliance that had spurred that alliance into taking shape.And now that he was gone… would they all fall apart? He was afraid to know the answer to that question.

“Leave, Sausage,” Gem says, tiredly this time. “I can't forgive you for what you did. But I know fWhip would kill me if I took it out on you, especially now that you’re.. back to whatever passes as normal for you. So I’ll let you go in peace. Just… don’t expect to be welcomed back. Ever.”

Sausage swallows hard against the lump in his throat. “Okay.” He turns to leave, then hesitates. “Gem? For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I listened to Xornoth and not my friends. It was stupid. I can’t promise I won’t do something stupid like that again, but… at least I’ll try to listen to you all before I make any stupid decisions, alright?”

Gem stares at him, then sighs. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He leaves, and he only looks back over his shoulder twice.

_________

Notes: You might notice a few headcanons from tumblr making themselves known. Now, I don't know who created most of these, or I'd credit them, but whoever came up with them, you're a genius and I love your ideas!

#empires smp #roseblings #empiresblr #fanfiction

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rose-lizzzy · 9 months

Text

Before she knew it, Shrub heard voices outside, her window open so she was able to hear them clearly.

"Gemmmmmm why? Why her! Anyone but her!" She can hear Fwhip complain

"Fwhip. I don't want to hear it. She's good now, she regrets it, it's fine."

She hears him grunt in protest. "And I can't even kill her? Just stab her once? Pleeaaase?"

That makes her nervous, and she feels like she has to be ready to defend herself.

"Uh uh. Nope. No hurting her of any kind. Now, come on. Hurry up."

She hears her door open, and she presses herself against the frame of her bed, anxious.

Gem bounces up the stairs first. "Shruuuub! Look who I have!" She yanks Fwhip up, holding him by the wrist. He looked...honestly he looked like an angry toddler.

His arms folded across his chest, only half of the arm Gem was holding sticking out, it almost looked like he was pouting.

"um ..." Shrub murmurs, looking away. "uh..hi...fwhip..."

He looks up at her, eyes narrowed. "Hi." He replies reluctantly.

Shrub looks up at him, their eyes meeting for a second before hers flit away anxiously. "Uh...I'm...sorry...about the Grimlands...and...everything else.."

"Whatever." He grunts, and Gem sighs.

She pulls her brother to Shrubs bedside. "See? Fwhip you can be decent. That's good for PR you know. Now, how would you like to do some tinkering?"

His eyes light up slightly, and Gem grins. "I knew you'd like it. Even if it's with Shrub?"

Fwhip looks away, trying to hide his excitement to have something new to tinker with. "I guess. What is it?"

"Shrub got hit hard in the leg by Joey's sword when helping us take down Xornoth, and she wants to be able to move, however she needs a brace for it. How about it?"

The tinkerer pulls out some of his supplies. "Yeah alright."

"And you won't hurt her?"

He nods. "I won't, okay? I know you'll curse me if I do."

She grins. "Good. Take care, Shrub! I'll be back later!"

Shrub panics as she leaves, and she's left there with Fwhip, who barely acknowledges her as he measures her leg, pulling out tools and materials, filling her with anxiety.

After a few minutes he looks up, seeing her fear-filled face and he sighs. "...I'm not going to hurt you, you know. You heard me earlier. Gem will find the most annoying curse to put on me for a whole week if I do."

She looks away quietly, afraid to say the wrong thing and anger him. He already seemed very on edge.

There was a second of silence in the air, hesitation, and then Fwhip sighs. "Look. Sausage...told me a little bit about what it's like. How...the corruption twists your thoughts and all. I guess...I'll try to keep that in mind. Try to forgive you I guess. You do seem to feel bad."

She smiles softly, and then reaches over and gives him a small hug.

"Woah okay, sure. Maybe not that far yet." But he had a small grin on his face.

She smiles back. "..thank you."

He turns back to his work, and in no time held up a brace for her leg. "Let's see if this works."

Shrub gingerly swings her legs around to hang off of the bed, and he slips it over her bandages.

"Try standing." He instructs, and she does so, but immediately starts to fall until he grabs her hand. "Alright, that was unexpected, but Gem did say you've been in bed for a week."

Once she steadied herself, he watches how it works when she bears weight on it, how it moves when she walks, and most importantly, if it does what it's supposed to.

"Your leg doesn't hurt, right?" He asks after she walked around a few steps.

Shrub quickly shakes her head. "It..feels just fine. Not perfect, the brace is a little uncomfortable, but there's no pain." She explains.

Fwhip nods. "That's good. It will be a little uncomfortable, I'm not about comfort, just making things work. I did my best though." He assures her. "I'll go let Gem know that you're ready for her. I think she wants to check your wounds and stuff." He shrugs and starts to leave before Shrub grabs his arm.

"Wait! Fwhip uh...thank you. So much...for..for everything.." she says, looking away and stepping back quickly.

He gives her a nod. "Anytime. You know, you're not a bad person, Shrub. You're pretty cool I guess. I see why Gem likes you."

She grins wildly as he left, feeling relieved that he didn't hate her anymore.

#shrubnoth au #empires smp #shubble #shrub berry #empires shrub #xornoth #nature wives

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hale-13 · 3 years

Text

Euarthropoda

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 9 - Bugs

Peter enjoys visiting Tony out at the lake house - even though his mentor insists on going hiking.

Words: 1924, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

TW: Light Discussion of Mental Health

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“A hike?” Peter asked, his voice dubious and still heavy with sleep. Tony had dragged him out of bed at an ungodly hour to shove a homemade breakfast with all the fixings down his throat before their supposed foray into the ‘great outdoors’.

“A hike,” his mentor confirmed, putting an ungodly amount of ketchup and sriracha on his omelet, making Peter crinkle his nose in disgust. “Eat up! We want to get out there early so we aren’t out in the hottest part of the day.”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed,” Peter pointed out, talking around a mouthful of hash browns with grilled onions – it still blew him away that the Tony Stark he remembered severely burnt or set everything on fire before the Snap but now was perfectly capable of cooking a delicious meal. Wild. “But neither of us is what one might call ‘outdoorsy’,” Peter pointed out, air quotes included, adding another mound of bacon and sausage to his plate when Tony nudged the platter closer.

“Sure we are!” Tony protested. “You spend most of your day outside and I live at a lake house.”

“First of all,” Peter said imperiously, using his fork to point at this mentor and speaking with his mouth full. “Living at a lake house doesn’t mean that you’re suddenly a skilled outdoorsman. It just means that you have money. And second,” Peter continued, speaking louder over Tony’s spluttering, “I spend no time outside at all whatsoever.”

“Lies and slander,” Tony argued. “I’ve seen the logs for your suit so I know just how much you aren’t in your apartment no matter what you tell May.”

Peter threw his arms up in indignation. “Time in the suit does not equate to time spent in the wilderness! It’s climate controlled for fuck’s sake.”

“Language,” Tony admonished with a glance toward the stairs. Morgan had a penchant for creeping around to eavesdrop and had picked up lots of new… vocabulary… that she was all too pleased to teach her multitude of friends at school much to her teacher’s anger, Pepper’s embarrassed rage and Tony’s chagrin. Peter just rolled his eyes – he had super hearing, he would know if Morgan was creeping up on them. “Finish your breakfast.”

“Ugh,” Peter groaned but gave in. He knew a losing battle when he saw one – he was pretty stubborn but, if anyone could beat him out, it was Tony Stark. “Where are we even going?”

“Just around the lake,” Tony answered, spreading Nutella liberally on his toast. “It’s a few miles and I realized I hadn’t shown you the trails yet.”

Peter hummed and looked out the window where the watery light from the early morning sun was cascading over the kitchen and leaving long shadows. It was so much quieter here than the city, the only noise coming from the birds and the gentle lapping of the water from the lake onto the shore. It really was a beautiful place and, despite his verbal protests, Peter actually wasn’t that upset about spending a quiet morning walking around the shore of the lake and relaxing – it had been a rough week of Spider-Manning and he was ready for a break.

“Pete?” Tony asked, pulling him from his musings. “We don’t actually have to go if you really don’t want to. You know that right?”

“I know,” Peter reassured him. “I think I do want to.” Tony gave him a bright smile before grabbing his empty plate to put in the dishwasher.

“Go get changed,” the man said. “I’ll meet you by the dock in a few minutes once I get this put away,” he gestured to the few dirty dishes left on the table, completely empty due to Peter’s voracious metabolism.

“Sure,” Peter agreed. “I’ll do my best not to wake up Mo.”

“Oh God,” Tony groaned. “Please do. We’ll never get out of here if she wakes up.”

Peter laughed, leaving the kitchen to climb up the stairs and enter his room. It was supposed to be a warm day so he pulled on a pair of shorts and a worn out tank top along with a pair of beat up sneakers. Tony was already down by the dock when Peter made his way outside, stretching out his calves, two HydroFlasks sitting in the dirt next to him.

“Ready?” Tony asked, tossing him a bottle which Peter caught easily.

“Yep,” he agreed, stretching his own arms over his head to pop his back and release the tension in his shoulders that was a constant from all of his web-slinging. Tony set an easy pace, following the dirt trail around the lake and Peter fell into step next to him, their conversation light and lulling into comfortable silence in some places as they hiked, just taking in the scenery.

The area truly was stunning; an uncovered gem that Tony had been lucky to find. Land like this didn’t sit around unoccupied for long in the upstate area and Peter could see himself – one da, hopefully – retiring somewhere similar. Maybe Tony would let him build a house out here someday, he was certainly developing a taste for peace and quiet.

“May said you’d had a tough week,” Tony finally brought up lightly, confirming Peter’s suspicions for the alone time away from curious and meddling ears. The two were the absolute worst gossips at their bi-weekly co-parenting lunches – Peter was just lucky Happy hadn’t started joining them since he and May had started dating. Peter wouldn’t get away with anything if all three of them were involved.

Peter mulled the question over for a few minutes before shrugging, deciding to try for nonchalant. “It wasn’t great but I’m okay,” he finally conceded, voice carefully light.

“You can talk to me Webs,” Tony said carefully, his tone neutral. “If anyone knows what this business is like its me.”

They continued in silence for a minute more before Peter stopped in the path and leaned against one of the trees overlooking the lake, watching a Great Blue Heron wade in the shallows a few hundred feet from them pursuing its next meal. “I lost somebody,” he ground out. “I was right there and I’d already webbed up the bad guy but I guess one of his arms was free enough to still aim and fire his gun and…” Peter sniffed, eyes dry but stinging.

Tony sighed but didn’t offer any platitudes. “It sucks and it’s not fair,” he agreed, reaching out a hand to squeeze Peter’s shoulder quickly in solidarity. “And its going to happen again; all that matters is how you handle it. How are you handling it?”

“Mostly by punching a brick wall until I break my knuckles,” Peter admitted, carefully not looking at his mentor’s facial expression which he knew would be disapproving – Tony wasn’t really a fan of Peter’s penchant for using pain and violence to work through his emotions. He held up his right hand though, allowing the man to inspect the unmarred skin and healed bones without protest knowing he would be fighting a losing battle.

“I think we should talk about healthy coping mechanisms again,” Tony joked without humor. “Because this isn’t it.”

“I know,” Peter admitted.

“You give any more thought to my offer?” And Peter had. After the ‘Blip’ both Tony and May had tried to talk Peter into seeing one of the therapists the Avengers had on retainer. His identity would remain secure and he could vent and develop healthy coping mechanisms. Work through some of the issues he knew that he was repressing. Figure out how to deal with the PTSD WebMD told him he had. He had refused them a couple times over the months he had been back but now…

“I‘ve thought about it,” he admitted.

“And?” Tony asked, voice patient but with a hopeful undercurrent he couldn’t quite hide.

“I’ll try it,” Peter agreed, grunting in surprise when Tony pulled him into a firm hug that Peter leaned into, returning it with equal force and closing his eyes to rest his forehead on Tony’s flesh shoulder, tension he didn’t know he was carrying releasing from his muscles.

“I’m so proud of you kiddo,” the man whispered into his ear and Peter felt a watery smile pull up his cheekbones.

“Thanks,” he said as he pulled back to meet Tony’s eyes only for his mentor to be looking at Peter’s shoulder instead of his face. Peter knit his brows in confusion. “Tony?”

“Hold still Pete,” he said, gesturing to Peter’s shoulder. “Got a little wolf spider on you. I’ll get it.”

“A WHAT!” Peter screeched, jumping backwards and yanking his tank top off, ripping it to shreds and tossing it before running his hands over his arms, hair standing on end and skin crawling like he was covered in bugs.

“Uh,” Tony said, looking caught between laughter and confusion. “You okay bud?”

“I HATE spiders,” Peter said, shuddering and climbing halfway up the tree behind him to get away from his shirt on the ground and the arachnid that may still be in it. He was taking no chances. “Aren’t you going to kill it?”

“Kill it?” Tony asked faintly before letting out a snort. “Hate to break it to you Pete, but we’re in his territory not the other way around.”

“He lost the chance to live when he climbed on me,” Peter spat out venomously, eyes still locked on the shirt. He wasn’t letting the little bastard escape. “Can you please just kill it?”

“Pretty sure you flung him halfway to the city already,” Tony choked out around his laughter, picking up Peter’s discarded shirt and shaking it out to check it. “Think your shirt is toast.”

“You’re sure its gone?” Peter asked suspiciously, still perched on the trunk of the tree and feeling over his arms to make sure it wasn’t still on him.

“Yes Peter, Christ. Can you get down from there?” Peter narrowed his eyes but dropped back to the ground, scanning the area nervously. His Spidey sense was tingling uncomfortably from the adrenaline that was working its way through his system. Tony looked him over for a second to make sure he was okay before letting out a snort and then bursting into laughter. “Spider-Man afraid of spiders. Oh this is good!”

“Yeah yeah,” Peter grumbled, crossing his arms over his bare chest and feeling his cheeks heat up. “Laugh it up.”

“Aw its okay buddy!” Tony said, draping his arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulling him back down the path toward the cabin. “We all have at least one irrational fear. Say,” he said, voice teasing, “does May kill them all for you at home?”

“Hell no!” Peter said, shaking his head. “She’s worse than me – Ben always had to handle the various vermin that would come in the apartment uninvited.”

“So what do you two do? Go ask a neighbor?” Tony teased, lightly elbowing Peter in the ribs and causing him to scowl. “Scream until someone comes running? Call Happy?”

“We just… leave. You know, let it do it’s thing. Then we come home and are just really uncomfortable for a few days,” he said squirming a little in discomfort at the thought.

Tony let out a bark of bright laughter, pulling Peter into a side hug. “We can work on something to help you with that later in the lab I think.”

“Please,” Peter agreed in pure relief, following along back towards the house and keeping a weary eye on his surroundings… just in case.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump9 #Prompt: Bugs #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Take it Slow - Part Thirty-Two

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

On Christmas morning, you woke up in Harry’s arms. It was a chill morning, but you didn’t mind. You snuggle further into him.

“Happy Christmas.” He whispers, eyes still closed.

“Happy Christmas, Harry.” You say in an accent, trying to mimic Ron from Harry Potter. You both giggle. “Last night was so much fun.”

“I figured you’d enjoy hanging out and watching movies.” He kisses your hairline. “Suppose we should get up, make breakfast and all that.”

“Is this another comfy pj’s type thing?”

“Yup!”

Harry puts on a red and green plaid pair of pajama pants and a black t-shirt. You whip out a navy pj set you had been dying to wear.

“That’s cute.”

“Thanks! Thought it would cover me up nice, but still be cozy.”

“Is navy your favorite shade of blue?”

“One of my favorites.” You kiss him on the cheek and go into the bathroom.

You and Harry go downstairs, and put your gifts under the tree. You and Gemma start peeling the potatoes while Harry helps his mom with cutting up some fruit. The house fills with the smell of oil as everything gets going. Anne makes scrambled eggs and sausage for her and Gemma.

“Mm, oh my god, these are so good!” Gemma says biting into a pancake.

“Thanks! Family recipe.”

“She makes this other thing called a kugel, it’s so good.” Harry beams.

“Nice to know you’re feedin’ my son such delicious food.”

“Oh he cooks way more than I do, you raised quite the chef.”

After breakfast and a few cups of coffee everyone goes into the living room to open presents. You hand Anne and Gemma a small box.

“Oh, this is so kind of you!” Anne smiles. “Look Gem, a charm bracelet.”

“I got one too!”

“It’s from this mother/daughter collection. My Nannie and I have something similar and I love it, thought you would too.”

“Nannie?” Gemma asks.

“My grandmother.”

“Oh! For a second I thought you had an actual nannie! Not that anythin’ would be wrong with that.” She laughs.

“People get confused all the time. We called her Nannie because her mother was Nana, it made things easier for us to remember who was who when we were really little.”

“Do you remember your great-grandmother?” Anne asks, giving you a kiss on the cheek for the kind gift.

“I do! I was about twelve or thirteen when she passed, so she was in my life for a while.”

“That’s so nice.” Anne grabs three boxes from under the tree. “Here you all are.”

Harry opens his up first, his eyes light up.

“A new jumper! Thanks mum.”

“You’re welcome. Know how much you like the clothes from this place.” You open up yours and see that it’s a blue sweater, or jumper as they would say. “Little birdy told me blue was your favorite color.” She winks at you.

“It is! This is so nice of you, thank you.” Gemma hands you something next. You open it up and see a framed photo of Harry as a child. He’s dressed in his school uniform. You burst into laughter.

“Gem, what in the fuck?”

“Hey! It’s Christmas, no cursing.” Anne scolds him.

“She got my girlfriend a really embarrassin’ picture of me!”

“Figured it would look great at her place. We all need a good laugh once in a while.” Gemma says.

“I love it, thank you.” You kiss Harry on the cheek. “Look at you! So cute.”

“I should keep your gift from you for bein’ such a tw-“

“Harry.” Anne scolds him again.

“Here.” He says with a huff.

“And here’s yours.” Gemma opens up a box full of some of her favorite things. “Oh! That perfume I’ve been wantin’, thank you Harry.” Harry opens up his and gasps.

“You got me a vinyl of Peter Gabriel’s greatest hits?!” He practically leaps into her arms. “Thanks! I’ll have to dust off my record player.”

“S’not all I gotcha, here.” She hands him a card with a few scratch tickets and gift cards inside.

“Thanks, sis.” He looks at you. “You know who Peter Gabriel is right?”

“Yeah, he was in Genesis.” Harry nods proudly and with relief that you knew who one of his favorite artists was.

“I cannot wait to crank this, thank you.”

“Alright, what ya get for her, hm?”

“We’re going to exchange privately actually.” He squeezes your hand. “It’s our first Christmas together after all.”

“Very well.” Anne rolls hers eyes.

“This one’s from me and Gem, mum.” Harry hands her a box. She nearly weeps. It’s a diamond necklace with four stones on it. “There’s one for you, me, Gem, and Robyn.” You assume Robyn was Harry’s step-father.

“It’s lovely, thank you so much kids.” They both get up to hug her. Gemma helps her put the necklace on.

Gemma leaves later that afternoon, and tells you how great it was to meet you. She assured you she’d stop by for tea when you and Harry went out to London.

You, Harry, Anne, and a few of Anne’s neighbors all have a lovely Christmas dinner together. After dinner, you and Harry leave Anne to hang out with her friends, and to start packing up your things, you’d be leaving for London in the morning.

“Can I give you your gift now?” You ask him, holding the box in your hands. He smiles at you and sits on the bed.

“Alright, let’s see it.” He takes the box from you and his jaw drops when he opens it. “How…you…is this the watch we saw at the mall like two months ago?”

“Mhm. You like it?”

“I love it!” He kisses you all over your face.

“It’s engraved too, had your initials put on it.” He smiles and slips it on. You help him clasp it. He stretches his wrist out.

“It’s absolutely perfect, thank you so much. Don’t like that you spent so much on me though, love.”

“Too bad.” You kiss him on the lips.

“I got you some jewelry too.” He rummages through his things, and takes out a small velvet box. Your eyes grow wide. “Get that look off your face, it’s not what ya think.” He chuckles and hands it to you. You feel an immense amount of relief when you see a pair of earrings. “I was gonna get you a necklace, but you don’t wear a lot of those, and you have plenty of bracelets.”

“They’re beautiful! I love the shape of the diamond.”

“They’re white gold too, you’re favorite.” You kiss him tenderly, then get up. He watches you walk into the bathroom. You come out a moment later and model them for him.

“Well?”

“Stunning.”

“This was so nice of you, I love them. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulls you onto his lap, and hugs you.

You both kiss for a while and then decide to go to bed before you get too lost in each other.

The next morning, you both give Anne a hug and a kiss goodbye. She holds onto a Harry just a little longer. The two become glossy eyed, but they both smile as they detach from one another.

“I love you honey.”

“Love you too, mum. We’ll be back again soon.” You perked up when you heard him say we. You felt bad for cutting into the time he probably usually stayed with his mother, but felt excited to think that he might ask you to tag along again this summer.

“How long is the drive?”

“Almost two hours.” He starts the car and pulls away.

“Harry, do you ever think you’ll want to move back here?”

“Like full time?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I really like it in the states.”

“Your mom seems to miss you a lot…”

“I miss her too. But, she finds time to visit, and we Facetime. She has her own life now. Even if I moved back, we still wouldn’t see each other all the time.” He places a hand on your thigh. “Did you have fun with them?”

“Yeah! They were great. I’m so happy we got to spend time with them.”

As you get closer to the city, you’re amazed at how much busier it is.

“So, I figure after we get settled at my flat we can go for a walk, look through some shops. I know there’s some stores you’re definitely goin’ t’like. Then tomorrow I thought we could get up early and do all of the touristy stuff. Big Ben, the Queen’s castle, all that.”

“That sounds amazing, Harry.” You smile. He had clearly thought through everything.

“I think you’ll enjoy the night life too. Clubs are open a lot later here.”

Harry’s flat is really nice. It’s larger than his apartment back home. It’s a one bedroom, on the third floor with an incredible view. You imagine what the lights of the city will look like once the sun goes down. Decent size kitchen and living area. The whole place is spotless.

“Wait til you see the master bathroom, c’mon.” He takes your hand, and leads you into his room. There’s some interesting art on the wall. “I took those. Shots of the city at night.”

“They’re beautiful.” You gasp when you enter the bathroom. “No wonder you’re making money off this place. I thought the view from the large windows was the reason but this!” There was a walk in shower, and a separate tub. The tile looked fresh, and the granite on the countertops was exquisite. There was a double sink, plenty of room for two people. “When we get an apartment, I want a bathroom just like this. I mean, look at this shower, there would actually be room for the both of us!”

You both step out of the bathroom. You unpack the majority of your things. The sun starts to set, and you look out the large window. Harry comes up from behind you, and wraps his arms around you.

“It’s so beautiful.” You lean back against him.

“Gettin’ hungry?”

“Yeah, let me just change.”

You put on a pair of dark jeans and a blouse. You put on a tall pair of black boots and grab your long coat. Harry was wearing black jeans and a patterned button up. He puts on his jacket, and laces his hand with yours. You head out into the brisk evening air, and explore the streets.

He takes you into a pub for dinner. You seat yourselves at a table. You order fish and chips, just to say that you did, and you both enjoy a pint of beer. He takes you walking around so you can see what the shops are like.

“Some friends want to meet up for dinner tomorrow night, would you be into that?”

“Sure! I’d love to meet your friends.” He kisses you on the cheek as you continue to walk.

“There’s a club just around this corner. Care to check it out for a bit?”

“You know I’ll never turn down music and dancing.”

You and Harry go into the club, and check your coats, not wanting to carry them around all night. The place was massive, and extremely loud. There were bottle girls and VIP sections. You had never been to a place like this before. After getting a few drinks into your system, you dance together and laugh. You loved when Harry let loose. The way he would grind against you to the beat of a song, any song. And he loved the way your head would roll back against his shoulder, as your ass would press further against him.

Time had gotten away from the both of you, and around two in the morning you noticed a lot of people in their VIP sections sitting down and snorting cocaine. Your eyes bug out. You had only seen cocaine once in your life, at a college party.

“Holy shit, people still do that.” You point over to the people.

“Yeah, it’s really big here. We should get goin’ since that’s startin’ up.”

“Good idea.”

You both grab your coats, and begin your walk back to Harry’s flat. You were happy you wore the boots that you did. Your feet hurt, but not as bad if you had worn heels.

“Have you ever done that?”

“What? Cocaine?” He laughs. “No, love.”

“Was it annoying when you came to school in America, and you couldn’t drink? I mean, I would’ve stayed here just so I could.” You giggle.

“Not too annoyin’. Niall, Louis and I would take the drive up to Canada quite a bit so we could get our fill. We drank underage in school like everyone else. Wasn’t a big deal.”

“Have you ever done any sort of drug to get high?”

“I mean, I’ve smoked weed before, but I don’t really like smokin’, so I’ve only done it a couple of times. I have done mushrooms once or twice.”

“What was that like?”

“Um…hard to explain, but you just don’t think straight.” He starts laughing. “I like jumped out of a window, and fell. I ended up biting the very tip of my tongue off.”

“Oh my god!”

“Hurt like hell.” You start laughing.

“Why did you jump out of a window?”

“I have no idea. So, I haven’t done it really since then. I was in grad school when that happened.”

“You’re wild.”

“What about you? Ever done anythin’ like that?”

“No…I mean, I’ve been hotboxed before, but I’ve never actually smoked. I’d rather just drink you know? I’ve never really had the desire to get high.”

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done piss drunk?”

“Get my nipples pierced.” You both laugh.

Harry keys into his flat, and you both climb the stairs up. You were still feel pretty buzzed from the alcohol you consumed. You go straight to the luxurious bathroom to do your nightly routine.

“Baby, can I have your shirt to wear to bed?” You ask as he’s just taking his undershirt off. He smiles and tosses it to you. You get undressed, and put it on. He goes into the bathroom next.

His London bedroom was so tranquil. You knew he kept it nice for the people who paid to sleep there. He slides into bed next to you.

��Do people ever ask you about your pictures?”

“All the time, they ask where they can buy them. Once in a while I make a pretty good sale.” He pulls you into him. “Having a nice time so far?”

“It’s been amazing.” You kiss him lightly. “I can’t wait to go sightseeing tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait either. Weather’s supposed to be good, cold, but no snow.” You yawn, and one from him follows. “Guess we should sleep, yeah?”

“Mhm. I love you.” You kiss him again, and turn over.

“Love you too.” He turns with you, slipping a leg between yours to properly spoon you.

Even though you both had been out late the night before, you were eager to get up and start the day. Harry made you coffee from a French press, it tasted delicious.

“I better go shower, I need to wash my hair today. I want it to look nice if we take pictures.” Harry scoffs.

“If.” He sips his coffee. “I’m bringin’ m’camera. We are going to be total tourists today.” You giggle and head into the bathroom. You turn back around and raise an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“You coming?” He smiles eagerly and shuffles into the bathroom with you.

The showerhead was large and sprayed in an even distribution. You and Harry didn’t have to do the dance you always did when one of you needed time in the water.

“Would you wash my hair?” He asks.

“Course I will.” You put a dime size amount of shampoo into your hands and lather it into his scalp. He lets out a sigh when he feels your nails rake over him. He stands and rinses it out when you’re done. You wash your hair and body. You inspect the ends of your hair and scrunch your face.

“What’s that face for?”

“Nothing, just need to go to the salon soon. My ends have gone to shit, and I need my color touched up. My grey strands are starting to peak through. That’s why I get my hair highlighted, otherwise I’d just leave it dark like the underside.”

“Babe, you do not have grey hair.” He laughs.

“I do! Right around my hairline, it’s so annoying. I knew it was coming, my mom went grey early, so did my Nannie. Anyways, I think I have an appointment set up for when we get back, so it’ll be fine.”

Harry usually noticed when you got your hair done. Every six or seven weeks you would go and get a partial foil to touch up your blonde highlights over your chocolate brown hair. You always loved your natural color, so you kept the underside of it untouched. But you also loved the way the highlights looked. It was an expensive thing to keep up with, but it was something you did for yourself. Same with getting your nails done. It made you happy.

“Do you mind just giving me a minute to myself?” You pick up your razer and blush.

“Sure thing.” He kisses you, and leaves you to your business.

You felt extremely nervous. You were going to surprise him with something romantic and wonderful after dinner tonight.

After you get out of the shower, you moisturize your legs and dry your hair. You throw some curls in, and then look at the clothes you brought.

“Oh! I’ll wear that sweatsh-jumper your mom gave me. I can wear it with my black jeans. Do you think I’ll need a hat?”

“Did you bring one?”

“Mhm.”

“Might be a good idea to put it in your bag. You’ll definitely want gloves. Think I’ll wear my jumper too. You know we dress kind of similarly.” He says as he puts on his black jeans that have a few rips in them.

“I’ve noticed that.” You giggle.

After you get dressed you put some makeup on. Harry makes some avocado toast for you both.

“When did you get groceries?”

“Asked Gem to pick some things up for us.” He shrugs. “She’ll be joinin’ us tonight with her boyfriend, he’s a great guy. A couple other mates will be there too. You good with Chinese food?”

“Yeah, works for me. I’m happy to go wherever.” You both finish breakfast, and throw you jackets on.

Harry drives you in closer to where a lot of the things you want to see are, and find a place to park. You felt stupid for thinking so, but it felt like you were in Disney world with how heavily decorated everything was for Christmas. You started off with Buckingham Palace. Harry took countless pictures of you, and you were able to get someone to take some decent ones of the two of you.

It was when you were on the London Eye that your jaw dropped. You could see everything so clearly. Harry snapped some candids of you looking out in amazement. You take a selfie of the two of you with your phone, and kiss his cheek at the last second. He turns to look at you and you kiss as you snap another photo. You both giggle when you look at it.

“You’ll have to send me those.” He says, putting an arm around you.

“It’s so beautiful up here.” You nuzzle your cold nose to his.

“Getting hungry for lunch? Might be nice to pop in somewhere warm for a bit.”

“Yes! Great idea.”

You both agree on a little bistro where fresh soup was on the menu. You opt for a broccoli cheddar soup, while Harry goes for a tomato bisque.

“The dairy from that won’t bother you, love?”

“It shouldn’t. This is my favorite soup, never had a problem with it.” You smile, crushing some crackers to put on top of your hot soup. You dip your spoon in, and bring it up to your mouth. Harry watches as you lick your lips after. “Mm, soo good.”

After lunch, Harry surprised you with tickets to The British Museum. You were fascinated by so much. Harry had been the museum tons of times, so he was happy to just watch your reactions to the various things that excited you.

As the sun was setting, he brought you to Hyde Park. Even in the cold winter, it was still beautifully maintained. He was able to get some beautiful golden hour shots in.

“What time is dinner?”

“Around seven. Time to head back, yeah?”

“Mhm.” You make your way to the rental car, and head to his flat. “This was the most amazing day Harry, seriously, thank you so much.”

“Still lots to see. Tomorrow I wanna take you shopping at some of the stores we walked by yesterday. Oh, and I promised you that you could have a go at drivin’.”

“I can’t believe we only have two days left. This trip is flying by.”

“Guess that means we’ll just have to come back longer next time.” He puts his hand on your thigh and gives it a squeeze.

You’re puzzled on what to wear to dinner. Harry sees your distressed look.

“It’s kind of a nice place, I’m wearin’ dress pants myself.”

“Alright, a dress it is. I have some nylons I can wear with this dress.” You take out a baby blue dress, and lay it on the bed. It was a modest dress, a few sequins on it for texture, high neckline with short sleeves. Fit to your body, and hugged around your thighs. You take your clothes off and step into the dress. “Zip me up?” Harry does as you ask.

He puts on his dark blue dress pants and a white button up. You slip on a pair of black booties, not wanting to be cold. You run your fingers through your hair, making sure it’s still nice and wavy.

“You look stunning my love.” He says wrapping his arms around you.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You give him a light kiss on the lips, not wanting to smudge your lipstick.

“Better get goin’.”

You take a cab to the restaurant. Gemma and her boyfriend are there already. You all greet each other. She tells you that you look lovely, and you compliment her as well. Some other people show up, and practically jump onto Harry.

“Y/N, these are my friends Mitch and Sarah.”

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you.” You say to them.

Once your entire party is there, you all are seated at a nice round table. Gemma sits on the side of you that Harry doesn’t sit on. You felt relief to sit next to someone you sort of knew.

“Never thought I’d see Harry bring a girl home for the holidays, how did you both meet?” Sarah asks.

“You know m’mate Niall?” They both nod. “Well, he works with Y/N, and so after like two years of him talkin’ about her all the time.” Your face flushes. You knew Niall often gushed about you, but you didn’t realize quite how much. “I asked him to set me up with this supposed amazing girl.” Harry’s hand find yours under the table, and you lean closer to him. “Hit it off, and it’s been almost five months now.”

“How sweet, a blind date.” Sarah beams at the two of you.

“How long have you all known each other for?”

“I’ve known Harry since we were kids.” Mitch says.

“And Harry and I met at summer camp. I ended up at the same high school as him and Mitch.”

“But Sarah and I didn’t date until uni.”

“So you’ve been together a while?” They both giggle. She extends her left hand out to you.

“Tied the knot almost two years ago.”

“Congratulations!”

A waiter comes over to take all of your drink orders. You all decide on some large dishes to share to make things easier. Plenty of options for you and Harry. Everything tasted delicious.

“So, Y/N, you were able to not be with family this week?” Sarah asks.

“I’m Jewish so I don’t really celebrate Christmas.”

“Oh! How wonderful. Certainly makes trips like these easier on you.”

“Definitely.”

“She brought Harry to a Hanukkah party at her uncle’s house, had him sit on his knee for a present, pictures were incredible.” Gemma laughs.

“Is that what that was?!” Mitch laughs. “I knew we’d like you, puttin’ him through that.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal.” Harry says, sipping on his drink. “I’m part of the family now, y’know.”

“Well I would hope so.” Gemma says. “She’s certainly part of ours.” You smile at his sister.

You all take your time with the food, and keep ordering drinks. You took it easy, nursing your cocktails. You didn’t want to get wasted, not tonight. Harry picked up on this, and also took it easy. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen tonight, or on the trip in general. He truthfully wasn’t expecting anything. If you weren’t ready back home, what would make coming to a foreign country any different?

“Did Harry take ya around today?” Gemma asks.

“Yeah, we went all over the place, it was so much fun.” You take out your phone to show her some pictures.

“Don’t know how you two can even keep your eyes open, I’d be exhausted.” She laughs. ‘What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“Takin’ her shoppin’.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun. Y/N, what’s your number, I can text you the names of the places I like best.” You exchange phone numbers with her.

“Do you have WhatsApp? That’s what I’m using while I’m here so I don’t get charged any fees.”

“That’s right, completely forgot about all that.”

“Since you two had a long day, we won’t ask to go out tonight, but maybe tomorrow we could all go out drinkin’?” Sarah asks. Harry looks at you and you nod.

“Sure, we could do tha’ tomorrow.”

All of the men at the table square up the check, and you head out. You all wait for your separate cabs, saying your goodbyes. You lean your head on Harry’s shoulder in the cab as he rubs the top of your hand with the pad of his thumb.

You both kick your shoes off the second you get into the flat. You had done so much walking today. You immediately go to look out the window to see the lights of the city.

“Want any wine or anythin’?”

“That would be great.” You smile as he pops a cork. He takes two glasses out and pours it for you.

“Cheers.” You clink your glass with his. “Got a smart TV here too, want me put on Spotify?”

“Sure! Music sounds perfect right now.” You sit down on the soft couch. He puts on a random playlist just for background music. You were nervous. Harry was nervous, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He sits down next to you. “Your friends are really nice.”

“Yeah, they’re great.”

“It’s nice that your sister is friends with them too. None of my siblings and I have mutual friends. Guess that goes along with the age difference.”

“I know you’re close with your brother, but you and Erica seem alright too.”

“We are now. She was a senior when I was freshman in high school, so anytime I like talked to someone she knew she was like- holy shit!” You look over at the TV. “Damn, I haven’t heard this song in forever.”

Harry loved when you would do this. You’d often do this in the car. You both would be in the middle of a conversation, and all of a sudden the volume would be cranked, and the car would fill with the sound of your voice belting out whatever song it was. Harry knew to be quiet to let you do your thing, and then you’d continue the conversation. He loved that you were just so comfortable. This song happened to be Rockin’ That Shit by The Dream.

“Sorry, silly song to freak out over.” You giggle.

“S’okay, I like when you lose yourself in a song.”

“It’s just so nostalgic. We’d play this a lot when we’d pregame in college, and we always forgot it was on the playlist, so when it would come on we’d all freak out. It was funny.” You sip your wine, and lick your lips.

You feel your pulse start to tense. You weren’t sure why you felt this way. He was your boyfriend, and he loved you. You had been so open and honest with him about so many things. Why couldn’t you just come right out and say it? It was time he knew that he’s waited long enough, and that tonight you both would get what you’ve been wanting basically since you met.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #fluff #smut #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #this was a long one #but we love a soft couple who sight see #ITS GOIN DOWN TOMORROW FAM #how do you think it's gonna go?

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

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an icarus and his sun: chapter 10

A/N: y’all ever think about that one empires episode of pearl’s where she helps sausage fight off a raid and that turns into a pvp battle between them, and she absolutely destroys him? yeah me too. also check out this awesome art by @amostfoolishgold! anyway back to jimmy pov!

Warnings: injury, unconsciousness, fevers, talk of death, violence, corruption/infection, self-blame

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

The sun was nearing the horizon, casting the Overgrown in a golden glow. The castle was beginning to take shape, but they had unfortunately run low on materials, and Joel and Lizzie weren’t back from their gathering trip yet. So for the moment, they all just sat in the half-constructed shell of a castle, having light conversation as they waited for Joel and Lizzie to arrive. But soon enough, the conversation dwindled into an awkward silence. That is, until Gem stood up with a determined look in her eyes and a gentle smile.

“Why don’t we head to my empire for dinner? We’ve been working hard all day and could use a break!” she said brightly. Jimmy wasn’t sure how he felt about Gem quite yet, after everything that had happened- but she and Pearl had been a huge help. Meanwhile Shelby looked intrigued by the offer, and while Katherine first nervously glanced to the horizon, she looked back to Gem with a smile.

“That is very kind of you, Gem. I’d love to- we should probably just leave a note for Joel and Lizzie to let them know where we’ve gone,” Katherine said, standing up as well. Gem looked to Jimmy semi-nervously- and well, Jimmy was always a bit of a softie, wasn’t he? He smiled at Gem and stood up too.

“That does sound nice, thank you for inviting us,” Jimmy said. Gem beamed, and Pearl looked relieved as she stood up next to Gem.

“Well, you definitely won’t see me complaining about free food!” Shelby chimed in, hopping up to her feet. That caused the group to break into laughter, and the air between them felt comfortable again.

Once Katherine had written the note and put it where Lizzie and Joel could easily find it, the five of them (minus Pearl, who had wings) equipped their elytra and flew off to the Crystal Cliffs. When they first arrived there, everything seemed normal. The grand cliffs themselves, the buildings nestled in and around them, the towers- it was a beautiful and mystical place. But there was something blue, white, and gold that stood out in a heap on the ground near one of the buildings- a very familiar something blue, white and gold.

“Oh my god-” Gem started, landing on the ground beside the figure.

“Is that-” Pearl said, unable to finish the thought as she landed just behind Gem.

“Scott?” Jimmy finished, voice shaking as he came in for a bit of an unsteady landing a few feet away from where Scott laid on the ground, breathing shallow and upon a closer look, something red pulsing and spreading beneath his skin like some sort of vine. Jimmy barely registered Katherine and Shelby landing on either side of him, too focused on what was before him.

“This- this red stuff reminds me of the redstone spikes in Fwhip’s empire- or maybe something from the nether?” Gem pondered as she knelt beside Scott, a purple glow coming over her hand as she reached out towards the infection in his arm.

“I’ve seen that before,” Shelby said, voice sounding distant and laced with horror. Everyone turned to look at her, surprised to hear such a terrified tone of voice from the usually enthusiastic gnome.

“The infection?” Pearl asked.

“The corruption. I’ve seen it happen to my people back home, until it consumed them until there was nothing left- it’s why I came here, to try and find a cure or some way to stop it. But nothing worked,” Shelby explained shakily, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. Jimmy felt like he was going to cry too- and some awful part of himself thought that he should be glad that this happened to Scott, that it served him right after betraying Jimmy and breaking his heart- but he couldn’t. Despite everything Scott had done, despite never wanting to see Scott again- none of that meant that Jimmy didn’t want a world where the winged elf wasn’t in it. And what about what Pearl had said? Scott didn’t seem happy with Fwhip either, but now Jimmy would never know the truth. Not if it died with Scott.

Jimmy was so wrapped up in his conflicted mess of emotions that he didn’t even notice that someone else had flown in until Katherine let out a sharp gasp. He tore his gaze away from Scott to see what had caused that reaction from Katherine- and saw Fwhip. A mix of anger and terror boiled in his veins and swirled in his stomach at the sight of him. Fwhip looked baffled to see so many people in Gem’s empire, and plastered on a forced friendly smile. Jimmy’s hand found Katherine’s, and she squeezed it back tightly with no intention of letting go.

“Gem! Hi, so I wanted to smooth things over- I think we left things on a bad note-”

“What did you do to Scott,” Gem demanded, cutting off Fwhip as she stood up from beside Scott. Purple sparks danced in the air around her, and Jimmy swallowed nervously- he didn’t think he had ever seen Gem seem so intimidating before. Jimmy was relieved to see that Fwhip looked nervous too.

“Well, I haven’t seen Scott since our meeting, he seemed upset when he left- weird that he ended up here- y’know I was actually gonna go and talk to him after you-”

“If by talk, you mean do whatever you did to Scott to us?!” Pearl demanded, hand on the hilt of her sword as she took a step forward to stand beside Gem.

“I didn’t-”

“I’ve had enough of your lies, Fwhip. What. Did. You. Do,” Gem said evenly. Fwhip swallowed nervously, before sighing and finally giving in.

“Okay, so I may have set a few traps in his empire and got Sausage to help me with letting a raid infiltrate his village and the surrounding lands- but I figured Scott could handle a few traps and some mobs, it was only meant to be a warning, I never meant to kill him! He must have really gotten soft if he couldn’t deal with it,” Fwhip rambled. Gem and Pearl seemed semi-satisfied with his answer, but Pearl kept her hand on her sword and purple sparks still danced around Gem. But there was something that Fwhip said that bothered Jimmy, and along with what Pearl had said… guilt was beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“What do you mean by that?” Jimmy asked tentatively. Fwhip let out a harsh laugh, turning to Jimmy incredulously.

“The idiot actually fell for you. He was just supposed to be a distraction, a contingency plan to make sure you wouldn’t be trouble. But he got in too deep, and look where that got him,” Fwhip scoffed, looking down at Scott’s deathly still form in disdain. Guilt was crashing on Jimmy in waves now. He had pushed Scott away. Scott had actually cared about him and he pushed him away. And then he had no one to go to for help when Fwhip decided to send a “warning” and got hurt as a result.

“You’re lucky I’m a pacifist,” Katherine spat, more angry than Jimmy had ever heard her. He wished he could have shared her anger, shouted at Fwhip too- but Jimmy just felt numb.

“Well unluckily for Fwhip, I don’t have that problem,” Pearl fumed, drawing her sword. Fwhip started to scramble back as Pearl leapt at him. His backwards stumble turned into a run, and Pearl kept pace with him just fine, using her wings if necessary and brandishing her sword to chase him away.

“Pearl can handle him- can you three help me get Scott to the apothecary? I’d do it by myself, but he’s tall and there’s the bulk of his wings to worry about too,” Gem asked, looking down at Scott worriedly.

“Erm- right, of course,” Jimmy said, letting go of Katherine’s hand to join Gem at Scott’s side.

“Hold on- go to the other side and help me turn him over,” Gem said. Jimmy did as she asked, and being mindful of his wings, the two of them gently rolled Scott over so he was on his back. Scott was feverish to the touch, and even unconscious his expression was contorted with pain.

“He’s hot,” Jimmy said, distant horror in his tone.

“Now isn’t the time for that, Jimmy,” Gem teased, trying to lessen the tension in the air. Jimmy’s face scrunched up in irritation as he half-heartedly glared at her.

“He has a fever, Gem,” Jimmy huffed. Gem laughed nervously.

“I know, I know, just trying to make this less terrible than it is,” Gem sighed. Jimmy gave her a weak smile, and together the two of them gently lifted Scott up. Jimmy ended up mostly holding Scott, while Gem supported his wings. Scott’s head lolled against his shoulder, labored breaths fanning his neck. Jimmy should have felt embarrassed or flustered, cradling Scott like this- but he was too concerned with how limp and unresponsive Scott felt in his arms.

“I’ll get the doors for you!” Shelby offered, quickly making her way over to the apothecary door. Katherine hovered around Jimmy and Gem semi-anxiously, making sure that they had a good hold on Scott as they made their way over to the apothecary. But all went well, and they were able to safely transport Scott into one of the apothecary beds. He had begun to shiver and tremble every so often now, and Jimmy could have sworn the corruption had spread, reaching his fingertips.

“There’s gotta be a way to stop that, or at least slow it down,” Gem murmured in thought, pulling up a chair to sit at Scott’s side. She reached out to the cut where the corruption on Scott’s arm stemmed from, hand glowing purple again. She closed her hand over it, and her eyes began to glow the same purple as her hand. But then the glow flickered, turning red for a moment before it dissipated entirely and Gem drew her hand back with a yelp, stumbling backwards out of her seat beside Scott’s bed. Jimmy scrambled over to help her up, eyes darting nervously between her and Scott.

“Is everything alright? I chased Fwhip off, but I swear if he’s done something in here…” Pearl trailed off as she walked into the apothecary, eyes zeroing on Gem as she rubbed at her temples.

“I’m fine. The corruption- it fought back. It’s… alive, somehow,” Gem said with morbid curiosity in her tone.

“It’s a type of fungus. That’s as much as my people could figure out before I came here to try and find a cure. The red stuff is everywhere in my old home- even if you tried to get rid of it, it would just come back. And in the cases where it latched onto a person… there was no getting it out,” Shelby explained, sounding like she was going to cry. Gem hummed thoughtfully.

“Did you try any sort of magic with it?” she asked.

“No, my people were not magic-users- in fact I’d hardly seen magic before I came here, where the air seems charged with the stuff,” Shelby replied, gesturing around her. A determined expression came over Gem’s face.

“Then I’m not gonna stop trying. I don’t know if I can fully fight off the corruption, but I definitely think I can slow its spread. In the meantime, we’re gonna need to get Scott’s fever down- at this rate, that’ll kill him before the corruption will,” Gem said, resting the back of her hand on Scott’s forehead and frowning.

“He’s probably a little beat-up too- Fwhip did say he trapped his empire,” Katherine added. Gem nodded in agreement.

“We’ll need cool water and cloth to make a compress for his forehead- and I should have some healing potions around here- it couldn’t hurt to brew some more though too, just in case,” Gem rambled, starting to stand up before Pearl put up a hand.

“You two stay here with Scott, I know where you keep things around here. Katherine, Shelby and I can worry about getting things for you,” she soothed. Jimmy tilted his head in confusion.

“Wait, I can help get things too…” Jimmy trailed off uncertainly.

“You can help if you want. I just figured you’d wanna stick by Scott,” Pearl shrugged with a gentle smile. Jimmy flushed slightly as he looked down at the floor, away from Pearl’s knowing stare.

“I… yeah. I’ll stick by Scott,” he said softly, gaze shifting to look at the winged elf who always managed to make his emotions into a muddled mess. Scott was an enemy, a friend, a- a something, then an enemy again- but whatever Scott was to Jimmy now, he knew one thing: he wasn’t letting Scott out of his sight again. Doing so the last time caused this to happen. He had to be there if- no, when Scott woke up. He had to apologize for pushing him away, and hope that maybe Scott still cared about him after everything that had happened to accept it.

Taglists below! Let me know if you want to be added/removed!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @beepa99 @devilwoodkitty18 @riobug

#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #shubble #katherine elizabeth #fwhip #flower husbands #aiahs #mcyt #sage writes

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hermits-that-craft · 3 years

Text

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Four - The hues in our hair compliment one another

Ao3 in the comments

Jimmy watches as the guests walk in, gawking at the decorations that he, Katherine and Gem put so much effort into. Pride fills his chest - a week of hard work paying off in happy citizens and rulers alike. Jimmy nods politely to Iris as they walk in, he knows that being one of Pix’s advisors means that the dryad doesn’t get much time off, so he hopes that they enjoy themself.

A group of dryads bow to him before they disappear into the crowd, which makes him happy - he’s still recognisable with the mask that Katherine gave him. It’s a standard masquerade mask, though it has small cod painted on it in bronze paint, though it has a white veil attached the the lower half to cover his face. It was nice of Katherine, to remember that he prefers to hide his face.

He feels safe with his face hidden.

Jimmy watches as a young woman in a black cloak comes in, and an axolotl hybrid from his empire chats with a man from Mezalea. He’s glad that they opened to ball not only to the leaders of the empires but their citizens as well, and a fae man in a forest green vest dances with a spirit in a ribbon skirt.

The doors open, distracting Jimmy from people watching for a moment.

Lizzie walks in, the necklace around her neck shimmering in the glow from the purple lanterns. Jimmy watches as everyone gawks at the wedding gift that he gave her - it’s rare to see her wear it out of battle. The necklace has two axolotls, one made of rose quartz and the other of red jasper, curled around a pearl and inset in silver. It was handcrafted by the finest artisans of the Cod Empire, and Jimmy himself carefully enchanted it with healing and protection.

The best wedding gift she received, if Jimmy does say so himself.

“You clean up nicely, did Katherine give you that suit?” Lizzie teases, pointedly ignoring the stares she receives as she walks across the room to him.

“You’ll find that your husband did, for your wedding.” Jimmy smiles. “Though I did get it altered slightly for the party.”

“You didn’t put slime in it, did you?”

“Lizzie!” Jimmy gasps, pushing his sisters arm in rage. She laughs, ignoring his fake rage.

“I’m very glad you ditched the cod head.” She says. “I think Katherine would have killed you.”

“She actually gave me this mask.” Jimmy admits.

“Ohh, look at Scott’s outfit.” Lizzie says, and Jimmy turns back to the crowd.

Scott stands next to Joey, looking mildly uncomfortable. The king of the lost empire wears a red suit with a black crown, rubies and jaspers adorning it. But Joey’s outfit pales in comparison to the one that Scott wears.

Scott’s wearing an intricate white top, with long sleeves that bell out at the end. He has a high waisted skirt, fading from a sky blue into a deep, ocean blue. He looks like he’s stepped out of a high fantasy story, a golden crown shimmering in his blue hair. He looks stunning, making Jimmy feel almost as though he’s underdressed.

Scott makes eye contact with Joey, an emotion Jimmy doesn’t understand flashes in Scott’s eyes as he walks over to Jimmy.

“Lizzie, I think I’ve made him angry.” Jimmy mumbles, breaking eye contact with Scott.

“He’s your land boy, you work it out.” Lizzie says. “I need to go find my land boy.”

“Scott isn’t mine, Lizzie - Don’t leave me!” Jimmy protests, but it’s already too late, the queen of the ocean has left Jimmy to whatever fate Scott has planned for him.

Hopefully Lizzie will hold a nice funeral for him.

“You look nice.” Scott says softly, barely audible over the music.

“Oh, thank you.” Jimmy says, the back of his neck reddening. “You clearly outclass everyone here.”

“You really think so?” Scott asks, his face red. Poor Scott, he mustn’t get complimented often.

“I know so.” Jimmy smiles, though the man can’t see it.

“Could I ask you to dance?” Scott asks, offering Jimmy his hand. Jimmy blinks in surprise, looking into Scott’s eyes in shock. The elven man’s eyes glitter in the lantern light, light and full of something Jimmy can’t quite place.

Even so, Jimmy puts his hand into Scott’s, and lets the man pull him into a dance.

Scott’s hand rests on Jimmy’s waist, and Jimmy puts his hand on Scott’s shoulder, letting him lead. Scott, thankfully, doesn’t mention when Jimmy steps on his feet, the king just mumbling instructions to Jimmy as he leads them.

“You teach dances like this often?” Jimmy asks breathlessly, trying to concentrate on not stepping on Scott’s feet.

“No, I don’t. I don’t think I’m even teaching you this correctly.” Scott admits. “I’m not even sure this is a real dance.”

“This feels pretty real to me.” Jimmy says, his heart picking up. “Kind of familiar, like I’ve done it in a dream, but real?”

“This is dreamlike?” Scott asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Jimmy admits. “Do you think we could spin with this dance.”

“If you want to, then of course.” Scott says, spinning Jimmy around.

Jimmy giggles slightly, breathless as his hand falls onto Scott’s shoulder again. Scott leads them again, and Jimmy lets his feet go without thinking. It’s like the dance he had in his nightmare, with his shadow husband. Scott’s hand on his waist is comforting, a promise of safety, in a party of peace.

The music slows and they stop, breathless and hearts hammering. Jimmy takes his hand off of Scott’s shoulder, pulling away from his dance partner.

“I’m going to get a drink, you coming?” Jimmy offers. Maybe this could end with a new ally, a new friend.

“I need some air.” Scott admits, rubbing the back of his neck as though he’s nervous. “I’ll see you later?”

“See you soon.” Jimmy promises, smiling brightly at the elf.

The other man just nods, walking out of the room and up the stairs. Jimmy moves off of the dancefloor, avoiding bumping into people as he makes his way to the table, picking a prawn off of the table to eat while he looks for something to drink.

“Enjoying the food?” Pearl asks, startling Jimmy.

“It’s nice.” Jimmy says. “I love the prawns.”

“Thank you! I was hoping to get something from every empire.” Pearl says. “I’m glad I got something for you and Lizzie. Your empires were the hardest.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I could have helped.” Jimmy apologises.

“Don’t be. Be more sorry that you didn’t tell Katherine about you and Scott. She’s rather excited that the prospect of you two being together.”

“What?” Jimmy asks, blinking.

“Oh, if it’s supposed to be a secret I’ll tell her to leave you two alone.” Pearl says, laughing. “Next time, though, don’t dance in a public ball like that. Rumours will spread!”

Jimmy stands confused, staring at the space that Pearl used to be in. He must be tired, why would anyone start a rumour about him and Scott? There’s nothing to talk about. They’re potentially friends, barely aquantinces.

“I should find Scott.” Jimmy mumbles, walking in a daze towards the stairs. Scott must be on the balcony, right?

“Jimmy!” Pixl says, relief on his face. “You need to come with me. We’re leaving.”

“What?” Jimmy asks incredulously. “Why are we leaving?”

“Emergency at Lizzie’s empire, she’s asked that we both attend.” Pixl says, grabbing Jimmy’s hand and dragging him out.

“What’s the emergency?” Jimmy asks, waving goodbye to Pearl and Gem at the door. The two of them share relieved looks as Pixl drags Jimmy further away.

Lizzie and Joel stand in the middle of the courtyard, holding a spare pair of elytra that they put of Jimmy’s shoulders as Pixl straps himself into his own elytra. Jimmy straps the elytra on, wriggling uncomfortably.

“What’s going on?”

“Gem told us to go home.” Lizzie says. “Sausage and Fwip are up to no good, apparently.”

“Pixl said that there was an emergency at your empire?”

“I lied.” Pixl says. “Don’t look at me like that, you wouldn’t have come otherwise!”

“Look as funny as this is we have to go.” Joel says, pushing Jimmy and Pixl slightly.

The group takes off, flying into the sky. Guilt eats at Jimmy the further they fly away, and he turns back to look at the hall. Did anyone warn Scott that Sausage and Fwip were up to something?

He broke his promise to Scott.

----

“You look cute in the bunker.” The shadow says, sitting on the roof. Jimmy can just barely see out of it, and he knows that his husband wouldn’t be able to see at all.

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for battle?” Jimmy asks. “You don’t want to die.”

“I’m on my green life. I’m fine.” His husband says. “You’re the one we’ve got to worry about. Burning Dogwarts banner, really poppy?”

“I don’t want to see you sacrificed on any altar, petal.” Jimmy responds easily. “I’ll be fine, the bunker is safe and there’s an emergency exit.”

“Promise me you’ll come home.” His husband asks, standing up.

“For you? Of course.” Jimmy responds. “In sickness and health. You’ll always have me by your side.”

Jimmy watches as the shadow people fight. It’s dreamlike, unreal to him. Swords clash and fires spread across a desert stained in blood. The dogwarts banner flies and burns and his allies are so outnumber it won’t ever be fair.

And a scream tears from his throat as his husband is shot.

His body dissipates, he’s not dead. Not permanently, but something is wrong. This world mustn’t have respawn, not the infinite respawn that it’s supposed to. Green life. First life.

The love of his life is dead. He will come back, but he’s dead now.

“We want that banner!” A man yells, an enemy. There isn’t any winning this. He needs to get to him, to his husband, to his petal.

He’s shot through the throat on the ladder to the escape route.

Jimmy's screams echo through his empire. Not for the first time does he long for the embrace of someone who isn't even real

#in my dreams (will you remember me?)#imd(wyrm)#flower husbands #empires smp fic

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