#aside from Magnus but he’s him

[skybiie]

I really just needed to make this sorry ily smokescreen tfp

[driedlillies]

Chat what do we think about Oliver Banks (canonically having started getting the prophetic dreams around 2008) seeing Mary Keay’s death (happened circa 2008) as one of his earlier dreams. And then seeing the news reports about her „murder” and Gerry’s arrest. Contacting Gerry while he’s in prison for some reason, curiosity, guilt, anything? Meeting after he’s released, and getting info on the entities upon Gerry seeing the end’s mark on him?

Gerry can’t stop Oliver’s Becoming, but they grow close. Oliver gets someone who understands what he’s going through as much as possible, Gerry — his first friend. It makes everything just a bit easier.

[ravelqueen]

I love the comments on my jealous!Martin post that are like "mhmm that's a red flag???"

which I mean

yes?

name the Magnus Archive main character that's not a red flag in some way at the end of the show/their life (except maybe OG!Sasha lol), because I really can't think of one, I thought that's why we're all here!!?

[lets-try-some-writing]

During early 3rd season, Smokescreen finally lets it slip what actually happend after the base got blown up and that he almost became a prime. Bonus points if he also offhandly mentions how young he actually is (I always headcannoned that he was just a sparkling at the beginning of the war, but had his frame ubgraded cause cybertron needed soldiers).

Cue most (if not all) of team prime being geniuenly horrified that one of their teammates was by all means, both human and cybertronian, a child all this time(and maybe the older bots blaming themselves for not realising just *how* young Smokey was).

Maybe some Dad!OP becoming protective of him? And Ratchet slowly developing a soft spot for the (literal) kid.

Sorry for any typos

What a lovely little request! I do love me some fluff with ever so slight angst involved! (No worries on the typos front, I have seen far worse in my requests)

Child Soldier

During the height of the war there were a great many things that slipped past Optimus's notice for one reason or another. There were also a solid handful of amendments and rules he was forced to make in order to preserve the lives of as many of his Autobots as possible. One such order he gave and forgot about due to its relative irrelevance in regards to the overall war effort was the treaty he made in regards to sparklings and younglings.

After the last wave of sparklings emerged and were nearly wiped out, Optimus took as many as he could and to save them from being damaged further, issued the order to have them trained and put into larger frames. It was not a decision he made lightly, but it would be best for the sparklings as it would help them blend in among the regular foot-soldiers and keep them safe from targeting. Not to mention he could safely put them in secure guard positions in strongholds to give off the appearance of strength while fully grown bots went off the war.

In the end Optimus and most of high command forgot about the issued order once the stress of the war took more of their attention. The order fell by the wayside and all Autobot high command remembered about it was that there were hundreds of young recruits unfit for battle stationed at secure locations for their own safety. And once Cybertron was abandoned, the order was forgotten altogether as every bot was required to be mature or die.

As such when Smokescreen turned up originally, Optimus and Ratchet were the only ones who became vaguely interested in his behavior. It was like searching through a fog in their memories, but somehow they had this never ending feeling that Smokescreen was... young, very young. His abilities in battle were not exemplary and spoke of excitableness and rashness reserved for the young, but his skills were sufficient enough for it to be overlooked. His personality also seemed to fluctuate slightly in the manner of sparklings, shifting between serious and childish depending on the overall mood in the room. He was intelligent and showed great potential to apply it, but his attention was diverted too easily and his focus quick to be shaken. It was... off-putting. But nevertheless, the elder members of the team shook it off and chalked Smokescreen's oddities up to their own paranoia and Smokescreen's inexperience.

Of course then there was the destruction of the base and the subsequent battle that followed once Optimus was repaired. What happened between Optimus and Smokescreen was never spoken of aloud after the matter. On Optimus's end it was because it no longer mattered, the issue was resolved and he was restored. And for Smokescreen he simply never mentioned it because there were other things to worry about at the time, including but not limited to getting used to the new base and adjusting to all that had changed. However after things had settled down and the team were well acquainted with their new accommodations, Smokescreen brought the event up rather casually, not realizing the implications of his words until it was too late.

Bulkhead: It sure must be nice to fly, right Prime?

Optimus: It is a new experience to say the least, one I would not have had without the forge of Solus Prime.

Smokescreen: And to think I could have gotten wings if I'd become Prime that day.

Ratchet: *choking on his drink* You could have been wHAT?!

The team collectively dropped what they were doing to stare at the Prime and Smokescreen as they both just shrugged like it was no big deal. The team had been aware of the fact that Optimus nearly died that day. Bumblebee very nearly losing control of himself in response to his rapidly weakening bond to Optimus confirmed that. But they had never considered the fact that Optimus would have had no one other than Smokescreen to be his successor. It was startling to imagine the rookie being named Prime in any circumstance.

Upon being questioned Optimus pointed out that it was simply logical. At the time he was dying and there was no one else to take on the mantle of Prime. It made perfect sense for Smokescreen to be offered the title since he was there, worthy, mostly willing, and old enough to reasonably handle the Matrix (to his knowledge anyway). Also it would have been foolish for Optimus's body and the Matrix to be abandoned for any extended period of time for a plethora of reasons. And with darkmount and Megatron looming at the time... there was not other viable option but to have Smokescreen take the Matrix.

Upon hearing the comment about how Optimus's saw him as being old enough to be Prime, Smokescreen chuckled nervously and quietly added that he was in fact, not even five hundred years of age. Cue the entire team, Optimus included, pausing to stare at him in mixed confusion, shock, and awe.

Bumblebee: How old are you?!

Smokescreen: Uh, I think around three hundred and eight?

Arcee: You don't know how old you are?!

Smokescreen: Well it didn't exactly matter back on Cybertron. We were all cadets and our age wasn't important since we all had grown frames.

Optimus & Ratchet internally: Frag, the sparkling protection order...

It all came rushing back to the two eldest members of the team with the force of meteor. Smokescreen was part of the sparkling protection order and they hadn't even realized it. Suddenly all his quirks and behaviors made perfect sense. He hadn't been given the chance to develop normally and therefore had matured in body and mind, but not in spark or code.

Guilt hit them both right after, both because they had forgotten about the order they helped issue, and had failed to notice that Smokescreen was a victim/recipient of said order. There was nothing to be done to change Smokescreen's frame or give him back his sparklinghood now, but they could explain and try to treat him better. And so that is exactly what they did.

Optimus: Smokescreen, do you know why you received a frame upgrade so young?

Smokescreen: Hm, no, not really? We all got our upgrades as soon as we reached half a vorn of age. It was normal proceedure.

Ratchet: We issued that order Smokescreen, me, Optimus, and Autobot high command.

Smokescreen: Really? But... why?

Optimus: You were of the last wave of sparklings. It wasn't safe for you or the others. You needed to be protected and blend in, so we did what we had to.

The team were shocked, that is save for Ultra Magnus who had not forgotten about the order and had assumed Optimus recalled as well. Smokescreen wasn't upset at the reveal and accepted the reasoning without any pushback. He understood the logic and was just happy to be alive and well, even if he hadn't had a sparklinghood. And so before the explanation was even finished, Smokescreen wandered off not at all bothered by it.

In the end, whether he liked it or not, the team's interactions with him shifted, especially with Ratchet and Optimus.

Bumblebee began talking on a more brotherly role for Smokescreen. It wasn't really intentional, he just felt the need to be more mature and take the time to get to know Smokescreen better in light of his age. In fact, Bumblebee began taking every opportunity available to him to drag Smokescreen into a game and teach him the things that he should have been able to learn if he had been allowed to grow normally. Before long Smokescreen found himself playing games every time he wasn't on duty for at least a half hour. Often times he didn't even realize he was playing as Bumblebee tended to disguise it under the ruse of work. The scout also began quietly teaching Smokescreen, generally by poking fun at him in the manner of all siblings and helping him to adjust whatever he was doing wrong.

The team found their interactions cute.

Arcee, Bulkhead, and Wheeljack took to giving Smokescreen more leeway in his work. Arcee stopped being so strict and quick to snap, Bulkhead ceased any and all hostility, and Wheeljack silently gave Smokescreen a Cybertronian puzzle cube as his way of being nice. Smokescreen was baffled by the sudden kindness and overall leisurely manner in which he was treated, but he did not object to the lack of yelling or the puzzle cube which he spent long hours messing around with.

Ultra Magnus for his part didn't treat Smokescreen any differently, at least not openly. But behind closed doors he and Optimus worked together to keep any possibly dangerous missions out of the rookie's servos. Not to mention more than once the commander quietly took an extra patrol or two when Smokescreen was obviously too exhausted to work any harder or going through a bad day. It wasn't much, but it did show that Ultra Magnus cared, if only out of sheer obligation and a desire to adhere to his moral code.

Ratchet didn't mean to, in fact he kept trying to tell himself that he shouldn't, but in the end he couldn't stop himself from fussing over Smokescreen the same way he did with Bumblebee. The first mecha he checked when they came back from patrol were the youngest members of the team. Whenever he noticed Smokescreen struggling he would slip the rookie some energon goodies that he kept in a stash for special occasions. If Smokescreen appeared exhausted or out of sorts, Ratchet would come by and do his best to help the sparkling-turned-soldier without trying to make a big deal out of it. Smokescreen for his part was confused as pit when Ratchet started giving him extra attention, even going to far as to patch him up first and give him little treats on bad days. He didn't understand at all, but still rapidly found himself going to the medic on instinct after a while.

And then there was Optimus who seemed to take it as a personal challenge when Smokescreen shrugged off his age like it was nothing. Before Smokescreen could even comprehend it, his idol and Prime swiftly began fussing over him as a Caretaker would. If he was injured Optimus wouldn't quit bothering him until he went to Ratchet. If he showed signs of distress, Optimus was one of the first to turn up and try to offer his services, be it a listening ear or whatever else Smokescreen might require. The Prime also took to scruffing him whenever he thought about doing something Optimus's considered dangerous. It was embarrassing, but Smokescreen always found himself going limp whenever the Prime grabbed him by the neck guard and pulled him back from whatever he was attempting to do.

It was all little things, a bit odd for Smokescreen but not strange enough to make him feel like a sparkling. At first he wasn't fond of the babying, but he found himself growing to enjoy the little touches the team gave him and the attention he found being given to him. It was nice... and something he didn't know he needed.

[jonahfagnus]

i dont think you ever posted about your "jon sees elias as jonah when he takes the archivist job" au but please start with that immediately 👀👀👀👀👀👀

so i dont think theres very much that i didnt say in the tags of the post i made about it (unless tumblr ate those for some reason)

but basically. yeah after jon takes the archivist position he starts seeing elias as jonah (at elias' age, not as like. a corpse in the panopticon). obviously he immediately realises that its jonah bcs, yknow, the guys paintings are everywhere.

i imagine jon's train of thought is something like this:

did my boss get possessed by jonah magnus -> no thats dumb ghosts arent real -> im having a psychotic episode -> surely id be seeing other symptoms -> what the FUCK is happening

so a huge amount of jon's desire to find the truth about the supernatural ends up focused on jonah. initially he's just doing research into the actual guy jonah magnus himself but that doesnt really get him anywhere because its not like jonah was like "dear diary im an eye avatar and im going to start putting my eyes into other people so i can be immortal" so he starts doing research into elias instead. which also turns out to be quite difficult just doing normal research.

luckily, jon and elias are decently friendly with each other (at least in early s1, which this would still be). so surely its not weird to try and make sure your relationship with your boss is positive. thats just common sense thats just cultivating a welcoming workplace environment or whatever. and ofc elias is like

bcs this is objectively great! jons leaning into the eye hes considering breaching elias' privacy to learn more about him and ofc hes flattered that jon is so focused on him in particular. so he allows jon to break into his office and look through his things and he pretends he isnt watching the entire time, and he casually mentions some flaws in his home security to try and spur jon into breaking into his house (which he doesnt. yet.)

they're sort of not-quite-dating - tim might joke about jon going on dates with elias and jon gets very flustered and denies it and elias is a little over affectionate in public just to see how jon reacts, but neither of them have any idea that jon's doing all of this just so he can figure out why his boss is (apparently) the founder of the institute.

then prentiss happens. then they find gertrude's body.

i dont think jon gets as paranoid as he does in canon - hes been less of an asshole since all of his focus has gone into researching elias and trying to figure out what the fuck happened. so while i think he does do some research into the archival crew, its mainly research into gertrude herself, and continuing his research into elias. now with added stalking!

and of course elias still doesnt care about the stalking because hes still 1. very happy jon is taking to the eye so well and 2. flattered that jon is so focused on him to the point of stalking him. in my heart i know elias considers stalking to be a form of flirting

s2 goes generally the same but i want jon to find out about the not-them just a little sooner so i can make him go "holy shit! elias got not-them'd! what the fuck!" of course this is completely incorrect if you know anything about how the not-them works but jon. doesnt.

jon, of course, breaks the table. then he finds out that sasha got not-them'd. then he finds out leitner is alive. then he finds out leitner is dead.

who else does he have to go to? he shows up at elias' home, maybe just minutes after elias finishes cleaning up, because a man has been killed in his office and he didnt do it.

because i am a soft elias truther s3 isnt just manipulation and horrible things happening for jon. horrible things still do happen (elias very much doesnt discourage him from talking to jude perry, or mike crew, for example) and elias is still a bastard but its probably not any significant amount more horrible than canon s3 was.

jon probably spends amounts of time talking to elias about what leitner told him (which is hilarious to elias) and elias (against his better judgement) doesnt tell jon that leitner was lying, but instead asks him questions that may or may not lead him to figuring out the entities. he's curious as to what's going to happen, and he's sure jon likes him enough that showing just a little of what he knows wont tarnish their relationship

i dont have many thoughts beyond that - the confrontation probably goes differently, for example, and maybe jon permanently moves in with elias. i cant decide how much of a corruption arc i should give jon (obviously he ends up much more content with the eye than in canon bcs the eye is sexy but i cant decide if hes pro apocalypse or not) but when jon finds out that elias is jonah hes like "oh i know" and jonah is like what the fuck do you mean

[hellishfig]

just saw jon magnusarchives drawn as a white, short-haired blond man and it took ten years off my life

[nonsensical-shitposting]

Reblog and put in the tags (or just reply if you don’t want to reblog) what accents, if any, you imagined Bug Fables characters as having the first time you played through the game. I’m curious to see what people’s first impressions there were.

[fox-guardian]

[ID: A digital comic of Celia Ripley and Samama Khalid from The Magnus Protocol. Celia is a taller, slim, Korean woman with pale skin, short black hair, rectangular glasses, gold piercings, and dimples. She is wearing a coat, vest, scarf, trousers, and nice shoes, all in green and dark purple with gold accents. Sam is a shorter, fat, South Asian man with brown skin, short curly black hair, a mustache and small goatee, and black earrings. He is wearing a coat, turtleneck, cardigan, trousers, and nice shoes, all in brown, dark red, and green.

They are standing in a hallway in front of a closed door. Celia is spinning a set of keys, and they are smiling at each other.

Celia: Well, this is me. I had a really good time, Sam. Sam: Yeah, me too! Celia: We should do this again. Sam: Y-Yeah! I'd like that a lot, Celia.

She goes to unlock her door, peeking back to smile at Sam, who is standing awkwardly, looking away. She opens her door with a creak and gives him a shrug.

Celia: Thanks again for walking me home, Sam. I really appreciate it.

She pauses, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. Sam smiles, gesturing about sheepishly. The text as he speaks takes up the next three panels, partly obscured by the two of them and fading towards the bottom.

Sam: OH! Well, you know it was no big deal I just figured you know. It's polite and it gives us more time to talk and it's not always safe out there at night. Not that you can't handle yourself I just you know and I figured company would be nice on the walk back and we were already having so much fun so-

As he talks, Celia calmly steps closer, smiling, lifting her hands up near his face. He notices her hands, looks up at her, and then looks slightly downward towards her lips as she leans closer, his eyes going sparkly. A shadow falls over him as she blocks out the light.

Sam: It's really no.... problem....

She smiles, looking at him with intent and then looks down at his lips. A pink haze appears behind them in the background. She finally tilts her head and kisses him, knocking her glasses askew. The background is all pink with hearts surrounding them. There are two closeups, one of their lips touching and one after they've pulled slightly back, lips glistening and pink sparkles surrounding their faces.

She stands back up, smiling down at him, pink haze fading behind her, before startling slightly. She is still holding his face, slightly squishing his cheeks. His eyes are still shut and he is blushing severely, hair slightly mussed. He opens his eyes, expression vague, with tiny hearts in his eyes and sparkles around him, pink haze remaining behind him, before he suddenly tips back, surrounded by hearts, and giggles "hee-hee". The tail of the speech bubble forms a heart. Celia panics, leaning forward to grab him.

He snaps back, haze gone, with a "POP!" as she pulls him up, and they are chest-to-chest for a moment before Sam pulls back, blushing, looking awkward. He clears his throat before abruptly turning around and walking off.

Sam: OKAY BYE CELIA. (smaller bubble, an aside) Sleep well.

She watches him leave, amused and confused, and chuckles "heh-heh", a couple hearts around her. She waves, heading into her flat as he leaves, embarrassed.

Celia: See you at work Monday, Sam! Sam, in a thought bubble: FUUUUCK

end ID]

~~~~

I FINISHED THE THING YAY please enjoy ripsam being. silly geese <3 after a nice date <3

[ashironie]

this is mostly me just setting down my hc for characters tbh, you obviously don’t have to draw it since it’s not even what you asked for

Completely unhinged about the magnus archives, please please tell me how the characters look in your headcanons so I can doodle them.

[kitsune-pop]

I love how much of warhammer 40k is clearly a bunch of white dudes sitting around, thinking up the worst shit imaginable and going "thank god that could never happen to me, the cishet white guy"

angron is a one for one depiction of slavery, yet is painted as the bad guy for wanting to stand against oppression

mortarion is disabled and constantly has his decisions taken away from him by able bodied people only to be seen as moody and uncooperative

magnus is gay or trans or both. literally a guy blamed for something he was born with that he cannot control and told you're bad if you explore this part of yourself. also you're illegal now

fulgrim was actively encouraged to pursue perfection, despite never being good enough for others. he pushed any personal pleasure aside for an uncaring crusade and then is demonized for saying "fuck it, I'll have fun"

lorgar. also known as "this is why you don't abuse your kids"

horus is the golden child who's sent out into the world by himself only to find out Gee, Maybe I'm Not Ready because good ol dad did everything for him then told him "figure it out lol"

alpharius omegon are the autistic kids who don't understand why pops is doing this, maybe we should do things a little different than "blood soaked crusade"

perturabo is the burnout middle kid who did everything to impress his father only to be told "that's what's expected of you" who then got mad since acting out was the only way he got attention

konrad curze has a mental disorder. and is abused because of it

all of these characters were so close to being some of the best representation for minorities we could get in media only for gw to eat shit right at the finish line because they can't commit to an actual story. and it's amazing just how little these writers understand that the things they depict are all real things that people suffer through every day, and are demonized for every single day, especially when we are told these characters are irredeemable and should be destroyed, no questions asked

[revelboo]

Gah, the swindle fic was so, so good!!! I feel so bad for saying it, but I was talkin’ about Swerve, the lil dork that runs the bar in Lost Light!!! I’m so sorry!!! 😭

This little bozo!!! :)

Yes, you were xD I was working on the next Scavengers when I saw it and my brain just went: Swindle. Ignore me, it’s cold and I’m struggling

Lose Control

IDW Swerve x Reader

• Placing a clean glass back where it goes, Swerve surveys his kingdom. Aside from Trailbreaker sprawled across the bar top making a low rumbling sound as he recharges, the bar is empty and quiet. It’s something he never thought he’d have, a space to call his own. Where he’s in charge and listened to. “Third last call, big guy,” he says, reaching out to nudge Trailbreaker with a servo. “You know you can’t keep sleeping in here.” Mostly because when he wakes up, he’ll start drinking again and he can’t open if Breaker drinks all the inventory. Again.

• “Seriously? Don’t make me drag you,” he groans, knowing it’s an empty threat. Trailbreaker is as big as two of him and then some. There’s no budging him short of going and asking Magnus for help. And listening to the complaints about his bar and Magnus’s love language- rule violations. No, he’d rather take his chances with one very over energized mech. Which means babysitting all night to protect the bar. Frag.

• After kicking Trailbreaker’s stool again, he wanders around the bar. Bored and tired. “I don’t care if you’re my best customer,” he mutters, dragging a table slightly away from a wall. And there’s a sharp cry and a tiny shape darting from the shadows. Somehow that manages to wake up Breaker. Everything seems to slow as he sees the small form running alongside the bottom of the bar, sees Breaker shift and slide out of his stool, a ped coming down. And he’s running, diving with his hands outstretched. Feels that soft body hit his palms as Breaker steps on him instead and comes down on him.

• Flung off balance, you roll end over end and go sliding. Realizing that the big monster had almost stepped on you without even noticing and the smaller one had pushed you out of the way to take the brunt of the impact himself. Your confused brain is screaming at you to run, but as your rescuer groans, you can’t. “What happened?” The bigger one complains as the red one hits him, flailing to get free.

• “You’re crushing me,” Swerve snarls, venting raggedly as he gets loose, head turning to find the human still there, eyes wide as you stare up at him. Tensed to bolt, but waiting instead. “Hey, tiny.” Wiggling his fingers at you only makes you back up a step, expression uncertain. “I wouldn’t run. I at least see you,” he tries, as Trailbreaker gets to his feet and staggers away, gawking. Of course he’d heard the rumors of Brainstorm’s screwup, but the machine was destroyed. Right? And you glance from him to Breaker and back, and take a tentative step forward. A human that shouldn’t be here, doesn’t belong. Too small to survive, and he gets being smaller than every other bot except maybe Tailgate. He’s short, but you can be stepped on. “Little things need to stick together.”

Next

[tinydefector]

Can we get a first contact au with Rodimus becoming increasingly possessive towards the human the lost light found.

My Human

Rodimus x Human First contact AU

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

Rodimus masterlist

Request are open, please go to pinned post to read rules.

Rules and Masterlist

Had a lot of fun writing this. I may have written him as more Protective Possessions than anything else, but all up, I'm very happy with how this turned out. But I've seen so where the human is distressed by Possesive Rodimus in First contact Aus so I wanted to go with them being just as distressed about being taken away from him.

________

Rodimus hated this, he hated being away from his little human. He paces back and forth in front of medlab, at this rate he would wear marks into the floor, he regretted that his little friend had been found out. It had resulted in Ratchet and Ultra Magnus taking them from his care. It had now been nearly three cycles since they had been taken from him and he didn't like when others were in charge of their care. 

Ratchet and Ultra Magnus believed he wasn't skilled enough to care for them. Yes there was a language barrier between them but they had been working on it with hand signals, nods and head shakes along with visual items. He was gentle with them, he did his best to make them comfortable and they didn't set off any signs that they felt uncomfortable or upset with him. 

Rodimus keeps his energy field taut with restraint, his optics flick to the door as he faces Ratchet, though his unrest is clear. "Look, I know you and Magnus think I'm not 'responsible' enough or whatever, but that's my little human! I've been taking good care of them since picking them up, You can't just keep me away from them!." His plating flares briefly. " you both swoop in, say I'm not 'qualified,' and carry them off for your tests and whatnot. Please just let me see them!" Rodimus remains poised, despite his clear frustration he tries to not let it show.

Ratchet isn't impressed by the situation, Rodimus had hidden the human for who knows how long before they found out about them and it was due to the fact Swerve had seen the human with Rodimus late one cycle. The medic had a hard time trusting Rodimus to be responsible for such a fragile being. 

The smaller beings' eyes light up the moment they see Rodimus, a small collection of thrills and vocal chirps falling from them as they see the Speedster finally being let into medical, they stand quickly moving to the edge of the table calling out to him eagerly.  

Ratchet huffs in exasperation as the human calls out so eagerly for the red mech. He grudgingly has to admit their attachment seems genuine. But that doesn't absolve proper procedure. Rodimus had withheld information, hidden an organic, he was lucky that they were in good health otherwise Ratchet wouldn't have let him within the radius of the lab. 

"Alright, alright, calm down, both of you." Ratchet levels a stern glare between them. "I'm letting you see each other as a trial, Rodimus. One slip-up and they go right back to my care, and you do not get to see them at all. got it?" 

Rodimus nods eagerly, and Ratchet steps aside with reluctance. The human chirps happily as he swiftly moves closer to the table they are stood on. "Be gentle, and watch your energy, you're lucky you haven't caused any medical problems" Ratchet grumbles. But his rebuke as he reads over the few tests he had run over them. 

Rodimus beams down at his human. "Missed you too. Don't listen to Ratch', okay? I'll always keep you safe." He directs the latter at Ratchet. The medic huffs but doesn't disagree. Seeing the human's contentment, maybe Rodimus has earned his chance after all. He'd be keeping a close optic on the two.

The human almost flings themself at Rodimus snuggling against his plating, had it been any other Mech their plating would have been cold but Rodimus ran hot due to his Outlier ability and they seemed to swarm to him for the heat. Their arms curl around his shoulder plating little thrills leaving them in delight to see him after not being able to see him for days now.

Eventually they pull away hands moving quickly as more noises leave them, trying to ask him questions he can't understand, giving a rather rude gesture towards Ratchet as they voice their displeasure over being stuck here. Ratchet isn't particularly happy but given the circumstances it was better than the human needing multiple injections and a drip. 

Rodimus chuckles at the rude gesture aimed at Ratchet. "Eheh, I'll let that one slide since I know he's been keeping you against your will." He hums softly while pulling them back into a hug which they eagerly accept. "But play nice," Rodimus whispers, directing a pointed look at Ratchet. "Don't want Ratch' banning me from visits, y'know?" 

Rodimus strokes their back gently, happy to finally have them back even if it was only for a little, he didn't like it but he would fight if it came down to that so they didn't have to stay in the Medlab. 

It's only when Ultra Magnus walks into the room does the human become rather vocal, seeming to scowl in displeasure, another flurry of noise coming from them as they clinging to Rodimus expecting the larger mech to take them again.

 After all this was a massive violation of ship conduct having a human on board and Rodimus had hidden them for who knows how long. Rodimus himself was still rather angry over the separation for cycles. Magnus' field bleeds disapproval as he notes the organics ferocity. " Rodimus, your failure to disclose finding an intelligent alien has compromised ship safety. That you concealed them speaks poorly of your leadership. Do you have any idea what could have happened if it was another species, think of the Viruses, and other contamination you could have brought onto this ship!"

Rodimus' plating flares indignantly. "They were scared! I was looking after them, making sure they had everything they needed, rather than dragging them in here for pit knows what kind of tests and dragged me to the brig!" 

"Enough, both of you!" Ratchet interjects sternly. "Arguing will solve nothing. Your disapproval is clear, Magnus, but separating them now could cause harm. For their sake, I advise they remain in Rodimus' care, But they are to be brought in Every Luna Cycle for check ups, do I make myself clear captain?."

Magnus' optics narrow, he goes to argue about the situation, But the sound of heavy foot fall makes them tense as Megatron stalks in, red optics lingering on the group. The co-captain looks to Rodimus with a raised brow before his optics flicker to the human in his arms. "What is the issue here?" He finally asked. Rodimus' fields blast protectiveness as Megatron's gaze settles on the human clinging to him. "There's no issue, Megatron. Just everyone freaking out that I took in a stray. As if providing refuge is a crime."��

Magnus stiffens. "Harbouring an unknown organism without informing command put the whole ship at risk. Repercussions must follow regulations."

Ratchet shoots him a glare. "Perhaps. But separating them now risks worse harm." He faces Megatron decisively. Megatron considers it thoughtfully. While Rodimus broke protocol. 

" they remain in Rodimus' care. But you will face consequences, Rodimus, for keeping them hidden, you should have come to one of us over this when you found them." His gaze levels on Magnus, daring dissent. Magnus' field churns discontent but he nods curtly. Rodimus flashes Megatron a covert grateful look. “Look I'm sorry I didn't tell anyone but I knew this was how Magnus was going to react, they needed help and I wasn't just going to leave them” 

The group continued talking about how things would proceed from there. It's only after the medical check is finished are the two finally allowed to leave, the human clinging to Rodimus as he walks with them. It catches many mechs, some doing double takes and others just blatantly staring at the human shocked over the strange organic. Rodimus did his best to shield the human from prying optics as he strode briskly down the corridor. He didn't want to deal with the rest of the mechs, or overstimulate his companion. 

"It's alright,” he murmured soothingly. "Just ignore ee. They're not used to fleshies is all." He shot a warning glare at Swerve as the mini rolled by curiously. Relief washes over him as they reach his hab suite, Rodimus shut and locked the door behind them. "Whew, finally some peace! Nobody gonna bother us here, promise." 

He settled gently on his berth, cradling the human close. "I know it's all weird and scary dealing with bots as big as mechs. But you're safe with me" Rodimus' field radiated comfort as he chatted to help them relax, he knew full well they didn't understand him, but he knew the rumbles and vibrations from his chassis would calm them. He was careful not to let his distaste for how the others acted show - he knew he had messed up but it was worth it. 

They let out a soft noise as he finally laid down on his berth, it brought him comfort knowing he finally had them back safely. The human snuggles in to his plating, a hand coming up to his faceplate as they check him over as if he had been hurt. Rodimus' optics crinkled warmly at the human's gentle inspection of his faceplates. "Aww, you're checking me over now, huh? Making sure grumpy Ratch' didn't do anything to me?" 

He nuzzled their tiny hand affectionately with the tip of his nasal ridge. Primus, they were so tiny and fragile, but their caring touch warmed his spark. "Don't you worry about me, little bit. I'm tough, it'll take more than their glares to take me down." Rodimus chuckled softly. 

Turning serious, he added, "But it means a lot that you care. I'm here for you too." He let out a soft noise as they curl up against him, happy to finally have him back, it makes a smile etch into his lips as he covers them with one of his servos to make sure they don't fall off his chassis. “get some rest littlespark” he hums softly. 

_______

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[crit20art]

[ID: a digital greyscale drawing of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood from The Magnus Archives, depicting Jon rescuing Martin from the Lonely in episode 159. Against a cloudy grey background, Martin, washed out, stands with his arms limp at his sides, looking vacantly aside. He is a tall, fat Vietnamese-Polish man with glasses, wearing a blazer. Jon, a short, thin British-Pakistani man with many scars, wears an overlarge cardigan that fans out behind him as he reaches for Martin’s face with both hands. Many tendrils of negative space curl around Martin, and a few break over Jon’s legs and flow between his fingers. End ID.]

finally got around to drawing The Scene Of All Time………….. not completely happy w it but i’ve been picking away at it for long enough. i am still fond of these lines tho. and. so fond of these guys :,)

[bones4thecats]

Tfp Ultra Magnus x pregnant Fembot reader, both are conjux, when the chapter arrives where Predaking breaks Magnus's hand, the reader rescues him, but ends up in a fight with Predaking, but he began to see her as his Queen, and wanted to take her away.

TFP! Ultra Magnus' S/O vs Predaking

Character: Ultra Magnus (Transformers Prime) Requester: @zinnia1506 A/N: There is no mention of the Reader being 'pregnant' (carrying), but you can imagine it being true. I just couldn't link it very well ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of war, fighting, complete body harm (hand being crushed-no gore tho), and maybe some underlying yandere behavior from Predaking ⚠️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Ultra Magnus ═══════════════════════════╝

🎖️ Ultra Magnus did not like to show his emotions. They were in a war for crying out loud! But when it came to you, his longtime friend and current sparkmate, he couldn't help but let you see behind his mask

🎖️ It wasn't much of a change, but you got to see how some things got to him, like the loss of your home planet and you went on your own on his ship before settling with Team Prime on Earth

🎖️ As you spent days and then weeks on the muddy planet, you grew close with the humans your Cybertronian allies were close. Though, you were closest with the human named Miko Nakadai, she reminded you of yourself before the war

🎖️ Speaking of the war, it was hard to know that the Decepticons had boosted up their power with a Predacon, how they got a hold of a fragment of their CNA you have no clue

🎖️ Anyways. Because of how low the energon sources were getting for you all, your team had gone out and begun to hoist them back to your base, and while the others went back to the base, you stayed with Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus inside the mine

🎖️ And that was a big mistake

🎖️ You had seen the Predacon launch himself at your friend and sparkmate, and while Magnus grabbed you and helped you get away from where the Cybertronian-beast landed, you readied your weapon, a long spear, and began to fight alongside them

🎖️ The fear you had as the mechs all clashed and knocked one another aside as, like humans say, dolls, was something immense. And it only got worse when the 'Con managed to get the two of them practically wasted by using the surrounding rocks to his advantage

🎖️ As Predaking landed on Magnus' servo, your face went blank with shock. How dare he.

🎖️ While Predaking scoffed at the pain he caused Ultra Magnus by crushing his servo into pieces, he began his small walk towards the Forge of Solus Prime

"And here I was just beginning to tolerate you." You heard Wheeljack say as he laid down in pain.

"It's been an honor serving alongside you, soldier." Ultra Magnus answered.

🎖️ As Predaking lifted the Forge, you began to stand, lodging your spear's blade into the cave's walls before loosening your rarely-used seeker wings before taking a deep breath to calm yourself down

🎖️ The sound of the Forge being torn into two parts making your anger surge more, especially after Predaking threatened your sparkmate

"Prepare to perish." Lifting his clawed servo, Predaking was launched aside as you threw your spear, a large rock being attached to it.

"Magnus, Wheeljack! Stand and get out of here! I'll hold this guy off." You said, transforming into your alt-mode, a McDonnell Douglas F-15E Strike Eagle, and began to fire your AIM-9M Sidewinders at the larger Cybertronian.

"Y/N. We're not leaving you alone with him!" Wheeljack yelled as he tried to stand.

"Oh for spark's sake! Go!" You growled, flying at the Predacon and de-transforming to kick him in the face, knocking him into more rubble deeper in the cave system.

🎖️ Hearing Optimus' voice ring through the cavern made you relax slightly before turning back to your opponent as he stood from the rocks and looked at you with wide optics and a small smile growing on his face

"What are you smiling about, 'Con?" You asked, an expression of determination and annoyance on your own face.

"You're strong... stronger than the others... you must be... you must be mine." Predaking said, standing up proudly as he said this.

🎖️ Your optics widened as you began to tremble, remembering hearing those words once from a certain Warlord before the war even began, leaving your home as a floating ball of scrap metal

"Y/N, hurry!" Optimus yelled, snapping you out of your trance.

🎖️ Transforming again, you flew after your leader, who was carrying both Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack on his shoulders. And as you exited the cave, you blasted the rocks above the entrance, hopefully slowing the Predacon down more

»–•–«

🎖️ Sitting in front of Optimus while Ultra Magnus' servo was being operated on by Ratchet, you shivered, which made your leader look at you with a saddened expression

"I know..." He started. "You remembered that day with Megatron, Y/N."

"I just- I can't hear those words the same. Him saying it was enough for my spark to bear! But now, now I have that beast's words being mixed with his..." You said, holding your helm in your servos as you cried.

"Y/N, look at me."

🎖️ Looking up from your servos, you felt Optimus wipe your lubricant that fell from your optics with his own servo. He then looked at you and smiled gently, opening his arms in a gesture for a hug

🎖️ You hugged him as he hushed you and allowed you to weep as much as you wished, emotions were normal, so it was only normal for you to express them so openly

"Don't worry, Ultra Magnus will make a fine recovery. I'm sure of it." The Prime said.

"Thank you," you sniffed, "Optimus. Thank you."

"It is no problem. Now, I recommend you take some time to recharge. After all, fighting such an opponent must take some energy out of you. I shall awake you when Ultra Magnus also awakens, alright?"

"Yes."

🎖️ Optimus smiled as you walked off to recharge, most likely in your alt-mode in a nearby bunker. You really were scared though, weren't you? He was going to need to tell the others of the issue sometime. But for you, you needed to let this information finally calm down in your processor

[honey-crypt]

slowburn elliott x farmer please please please please... (falls to my knees) strangers to mutuals to friends to lovers (explodes)

i only ask for angst to comfort and a lot of romantic tension go crazy w this if u feel like it

a/n: y'all... i present to you... my magnus opus... 3 days of work... maybe 50 or so hours dedicated to this... please... please enjoy

wc: 10.1k

features: slow burn (strap in), mentions of war, strangers to lovers, romance that will make you melt, minor spoilers for year 2 of sdv and sdv expanded, elliott cries a lot, imposter syndrome, elliott is a SAPPY SAP OF A MAN WHO LOVES YOU LOTS, i pull from my own sdv worldbuilding/elliott lorebuilding for this

summary: a box of cereal. the spirit eve's maze. a rowboat's maiden voyage. these are just a few moments that define your love story with elliott.

★ chapters in a story called life - an elliott x farmer slow burn piece ★

Chapter 1: First Encounters

A well-manicured hand reached out for the box of cereal at the same time as you, calloused knuckles brushing against your hand. In one swift motion, the hand plucked the last cereal off the shelf. You let out a surprised gasp and whipped your head towards the cereal thief, “Hey!” you exclaimed, ready to reprimand them but your words fell short at the sight of the individual in question. 

Long fiery red hair draped over their shoulders and emerald eyes bore into your soul, as the cereal thief adjusted their grip on the box, “I apologize,” their voice hummed out at a warm baritone pitch, “You seemed… to be struggling with getting the cereal box. I wanted to assist,” the man, at least you assumed them to be a man with their chiseled jawline and overall physique, handed the box of cereal over to you, “Apologies for any miscommunication, I simply wished to help,” his word choice was eloquent, unnecessarily eloquent. 

“Oh, uh,” you took the cereal box and dropped it in your shopping basket, “Thanks.”

“Of course,” the stranger flashed you their pearly whites, “Have a pleasant day,” he walked off to the next aisle in Pierre’s General Store. You looked back at your box of cereal then went about your merry way, finishing up your grocery shopping for that week. 

Chapter 2: Run-in at the Beach 

The local fisherman Willy ordered a bundle of parsnips from your farm and you were able to harvest them today, your first of many orders set for delivery. You tied up the sack of parsnips with a pretty red ribbon and dropped them in your bag, ready to make the trek through town to deliver your vegetables and produce. 

After running through town like a headless chicken and delivering orders to the likes of Pierre, Gus, and Jodi, you crossed over the bridge and onto the beach. Despite living in Pelican Town for almost a week, you never stepped foot on the beach until now. The ebb and flow of the waves greeted you, as you approached Willy on the nearby pier. The old fisher released his rod back in, no fish on the hook, when he saw you walking up, “Ahoy, (Y/N). I take it that yer got me order of parsnips?”

“Yes, sir!” you gave him a salute and pulled out the sack of parsnips before handing it over to Willy, “Hope they’re up to your standards.”

“If yer anything like yer dear old grandpa, I’m sure that these parsnips will be golden,” the fisherman reassured you with a belly laugh, “Here’s a few extra G for yer troubles. Go get yerself a nice drink at the saloon later,” he placed about 500G in your hand, “I best be gettin’ back to fishin’, you have a good day, alright?”

“Thanks, Willy, I’ll do my best,” you gave Willy a nod before exiting the pier. Stepping back on shore, you inhaled a fresh breath of sea air and stretched out your legs, sore from running around for so long. You were about to make your way back to town when you noticed a familiar redhead by a fire pit to your right. The redhead sat by the fire pit, a towel beneath him and his shoes set aside. The sea breeze ruffled his ponytail, as the man peered silently out into the ocean. 

I shouldn’t bother him, you reasoned with yourself, He seems busy. You turned your heel towards the cobblestone pathway, only to hear the redhead call out to you, “Oh! Hello, there!” Shit, okay, now I have to talk to him. You turned your attention back on the man on the shore, “Er, hello there.”

His eyes fell onto your delivery bag, “Ah!” he broke out into a smile, “The new farmer we’ve all been expecting and whose arrival has sparked many a conversation,” you made your way to his side and plopped down next to him, “How did you know that I’m the new farmer?”

“Your bag sports your farm’s name,” the man pointed to the embroidered letters on your grandpa’s old bag, clearly showcasing the name of the farm. Your face warmed up with mild embarrassment and you quickly fanned your cheeks, “Oh, yes… makes sense,” Yoba, I’m so- ugh! Silly? Yeah, I’m silly and trying not to make a fool of myself in front of such a… handsome? Yeah, he’s handsome, alright. Handsome man. Okay, please stop yapping-

“We briefly met at Pierre’s earlier this week but I never had the opportunity to introduce myself,” the well groomed man broke you out of your internal monologue and extended a hand to you, “I’m Elliott. I live by the little cabin on the beach,” the man- no, Elliott- gestured to the cabin behind the two of you, its exterior weathered from the elements, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You eyed his hand and grasped it, surprisingly rough to the touch. The two of you exchanged a handshake, as you introduced yourself to Elliott, “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Chapter 3: Writer’s Block

You stood outside Elliott’s cabin, clutching a bag of freshly grown potatoes in your hand. Another day, another round of deliveries; at least, you got to deliver to a friendly face. You knocked on the door, only for it to slowly creak open. Cautiously, you entered the cabin and called out to the redhead, “Hello? Elliott, are you home?”

The cabin was surprisingly under-decorated and somewhat shoddy, a lone bed in the far corner of the room with a piano beside it. In the corner closest to you, Elliott hunched over his desk, the sound of pen scrubbing echoing throughout the cabin’s old walls. You called out to Elliott once more, “Elliott?” he perked up at the sound of your voice, “Ah! (Y/N)!” he rose from his desk, “What a surprise to have you in my…” his voice trailed off, “…humble abode! What do I owe the pleasure of your visit to?”

“Just dropping off your order,” you set the bag of potatoes on the closest available space, “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, the usual,” hummed Elliott, “I’m attempting to narrow down how to address this one scene in my novel.”

“You’re a writer?” you raised your eyebrows, trying to see if you can catch a glimpse of his work. Elliott hovered by his desk and brushed a few loose papers over his work, “Yes, yes I am. It’s a bit of a funny story, but I actually moved to Pelican Town to pursue my writing career.”

“Oh, really? How come?” you asked.

Elliott placed his hands on the desk and leaned on it for support, “I supposed a life of solitude would impose some… literary genius upon me, like the great Ernest Hemingway. Yet, I’m at a standstill—” he cleared his throat, “Well, in all honesty, I’ve been at a standstill for the past two or so weeks with this one scene and I’m afraid that I’m losing steam.”

You frowned, “Yikes, that really sucks,” you moved closer to the writing desk, “Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes? Like a new perspective.”

Elliott’s eyes twinkled at your suggestion, “A most excellent idea!” he hurriedly gathered up his notes and shoved them into your hands, “Alright, the scene I’m at an impasse with is when Clara confronts Horatio about his late lover. I’m not sure if I should go with a tame heart to heart or something along the lines of a miscommunication gone awry.”

You read through the passages, familiarizing yourself with Elliott’s work. He wrote in a style similar to the aforementioned Hemingway, but his vivid imagery and passionate dialogue left you with a sense of awe and a desire for more. You got to the scene Elliott was stuck on, thumbing between earlier scenes and scanning the pages. Finally, you spoke up and suggested to Elliott, “Given Clara’s kind demeanour and Horatio’s sensitivity, I would go with the heart to heart option.”

Elliott broke out into a grin, “Splendid! You’re absolutely right!” he grabbed the papers and set them back on the desk, “Many thanks for your assistance, (Y/N). I truly appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you flashed him a smile and a thumbs up, “Happy to help.”

Chapter 4: The Flower Dance

You stood by the assortment of refreshments and finger foods, nursing a glass of sparkling cider. Every few minutes, you would mindlessly adjust your flower brooch or take a sip from your glass. Laughter and chatter filled the air, as the residents of Pelican Town joined the day’s festivities. 

You scanned the crowd and found Elliott by the river, standing beside Leah and talking about something, Probably art. Not wanting to remain idle for another moment longer, you made a beeline towards the pair of redheads and greeted them nonchalantly, “Hey, Leah. Hey, Elliott.”

“Hi, (Y/N)!” the artist returned the greeting while Elliott waved at you, “Good day, (Y/N). Are you enjoying the festivities?”

“As much as I can without dancing,” you hummed, finishing off your glass. Elliott nodded, “You make a good point. This is the Flower Dance, there’s not much planned beyond dancing.”

“Speaking of dancing, are you two dancing with anyone?” you asked the pair of redheads.

“We’ll be dancing together like we did last year,” answered Elliott. For some reason, your chest tightened at his response, but you brushed it off as allergies. Elliott fixed his tie, “We best be on our way, Leah. The dance will be starting soon.”

“I’ll catch up with you in a sec!” replied Leah, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I wanna chat with (Y/N) for a bit.”

“Okay,” the writer smiled at the two of you, “It’s always a pleasure to see you, (Y/N), and Leah, I’ll be in the main area whenever you’re ready,” he walked off without another word, as you stared longingly at his fading figure. Leah nudged you in the side, “You should dance with him instead.”

“I should?” you blinked, “But you two already agreed on dancing with each other.”

“I don’t mind passing the torch to you,” the artist nudged you once more. Yet, you shook your head and answered, “I rather not. I’m not much of a dancer anyway.”

Leah puffed out her cheeks and exhaled before stating, “You two would make a cute couple.”

You eyed Elliott in the distance and mulled over Leah’s words, “You think so?” you found yourself smiling in unison with Elliott, as the writer engaged in light banter with Willy. 

“Yeah,” the artist nodded, “I think so.”

Chapter 5: Drinking Buddies

Friday nights at the Stardrop Saloon were always the most rambunctious, at least two thirds of Pelican Town packed inside. You entered the saloon, hungry for a meal after a long day’s work, and saw a familiar figure in a blue shirt and suspenders. Elliott turned his head and grinned at the sight of you, “(Y/N), my friend! Please, have a seat with me.”

You took a seat beside Elliott at the bar, “Hey El,” the writer’s grin grew in size at the nickname, “You enjoying your Friday evening?”

“Absolutely,” answered Elliott, “Well, I must admit that it has gotten better since you arrived. It’s always a joy to see you.”

Your face heated up at his words, but you brushed it off with a laugh, “You’re sweet.”

“Of course,” the writer responded. Elliott then waved Gus over, “Hello, Gus, my friend! May I have two beers?” to which the bartender nodded, “Two beers, coming right up,” and poured two pints of beer from the tap, “Enjoy!”

“Thank you,” the redhead slid over some G to pay for the beers, enough leftover to provide Gus and Emily with some solid tips. Elliott passed one of the beers to you, “For you.”

“Why, aren’t you generous?” you chuckled, happily accepting the beer. You clutched the pint tight in your hand and Elliott raised his up towards you, “I propose a toast,” the writer announced. You held yours up, “To what?” you asked. Elliott smiled, “To our friendship.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your expression nearly soured- you weren’t sure why, though- but nonetheless, you nodded in agreement, “To our friendship,” and clinked glasses with Elliott. 

As the night went on and after a few more beers, you and Elliott were completely hammered. You could hold your liquor, of course, but the sight of Elliott merrily dancing and humming a tune made you break out in laughter and let loose. He’s cute when he’s silly. 

Chapter 6: Dance of the Moonlight Jellies 

You returned to the pier for, what local scientist Demetrius referred to as, an ‘utmost special occasion’. The occasion in question? It happened to be the annual event where moonlight jellyfish would visit the pier. You had vague memories of experiencing the event when you were a little kid with your grandpa, you remembered the fond look he had when the jellyfish would pass by.

You approached the edge of the pier near Willy’s shop and noticed Elliott looking out into the sea with that same longing look you saw the first time you properly met the tall redhead. Gently, you tapped him on the shoulder, “Hi, Elliott.”

“Oh, hello, (Y/N),” his tone was much more… serious? No, it was somewhat sad. You frowned, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited for the jellies?”

“I am,” he responded, as the summer breeze ruffled his ponytail, “I’m excited to the point of grief,” your frown deepened and you questioned Elliott, “What do you mean?”

Elliott scooted over so you had more room to stand, you stood by him while he explained, “We pollute the world so much, (Y/N), especially here with Joja… I see Joja CDs and Colas washed up on shore all the time and I fear the worst,” his eyes glistened with pain, “I fear that we won’t see these magnificent creatures unless we take action and hold Joja accountable for their actions.”

You let out a low hum of agreement, it reminded you of your days at Joja Co. and the stories you heard from your coworkers about the higher ups bypassing environmental protections with some hush money. It was part of the reason why you left Joja, other than the fact that it was sucking the life out of you. The day you left Joja Co. was the day you freed yourself from the chains of society. Just like Grandpa wanted. 

“I’m sure we can,” you offered reassurance to Elliott, “I believe in us, I believe that we ultimately make the right decision.”

Elliott nodded, “Thank you, (Y/N),” he looked back at the ocean, “I hope so.”

You were about to retort when Lewis announced that the event was starting, turning your attention to the mayor. Lewis released the little boat towards the sea, you watched with bated breath for the jellyfish to arrive. Your hand brushed against Elliott’s, as the town witnessed the Moonlight Jellies appear. Elliott’s pinkly slowly reached out for yours, you timidly locked pinkies with the writer, as you enjoyed the sight of the beautiful jellies. 

Maybe, one day you’d have the courage to hold his hand. 

Chapter 7: Roadblocks 

Elliott was a no-show to your weekly outing to the Stardrop Saloon and it left you concerned. He was always so punctual and he always told you ahead of time if he couldn’t make it to an event. You worried that he was sick so you left the saloon and headed to the clinic. 

The overhead bell in the door chimed when you entered, signaling your arrival to Harvey. The town doctor gave you a wave, “Hello, (Y/N),” he greeted you, “How are you today? Are you feeling unwell? Injured?” 

“No, no! I’m okay!” you explained, “I was just wondering if you had any over-the-counter medicine. I think Elliott might be sick.”

“Oh!” the doctor let out a relieved sigh, “Well, I’m glad you’re well. Let me see what I got in stock,” he left the waiting room of the clinic and after a few moments, Harvey returned with a box of medicine, “I have this generic medicine in stock. It should help with most symptoms of illness.”

“Thanks, Dr. Harvey,” you handed him some G, to which Harvey gave you the medicine in exchange, “Have a good one.”

“You, too,” the doctor replied, as he put the G in the front desk’s cash register, “And remember to stay healthy! I’m here if you need anything.”

You flashed him a thumbs up and exited the clinic, heading off to Elliott’s cabin with a determined step in your stride. Upon arriving at the cabin, you knocked on the door, “Elliott?” you called out to your friend, “Elliott, it’s me. Are you alright?”

You heard shuffling and slowly, the door creaked open to reveal a dishevelled Elliott. His usual tan was replaced by a washed out pale, as if he hadn’t stepped outside his cabin in days. He sported heavy eye bags and an exhausted expression, “Hello, (Y/N)…” the writer rubbed his eyes, “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“This hour?” you blinked with bewilderment, “El, it’s 5pm. What time do you think it is?”

“Oh, dear,” he let out a weary chuckle, “I must have the times mixed up. I apologize, but I should go back to work. I’ll be free to chat another day,” the redhead proceeded to shut the door, but you stopped it with your foot, “Elliott,” your voice was strained with worry, “You missed our saloon hangout. You never miss an event without telling me,” you held up the medicine, “So I was worried that you got sick… I got you medicine.”

Elliott gawked at the sight of your worried expression and the box of medicine, “Oh, (Y/N), I apologize… I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m not sick or anything, I just have been so wrapped up in my work that I lost track of time.”

“Elliott,” you pushed the door open with your foot, desperate to reach out to your friend, “When’s the last time you got any sleep? Yoba, when’s the last time you went outside?”

Elliott’s freckled cheeks turned red at your questions, “I, er…” he stepped back and allowed you passage inside. The inside of the cabin was dimly lit, minus the light at Elliott’s writing desk. His trash can was overfilled with crumpled up papers, broken quills, and empty bottles of ink. You set the medicine by his nightstand and asked Elliott, “How long have you been writing?”

“I lost track of time,” he answered, taking a seat at his desk. Elliott took out a fresh quill and bottle of ink, dipping the quill into the ink and writing. Yet, the quill snapped and the man who prided himself on his elegance let out a stream of curses. He shoved the papers aside and laid his head on the desk, utterly defeated. You frowned deeply and placed your hand on Elliott’s back, rubbing it tenderly, “El… Talk to me. What’s been going on?”

A soft sniffle reached your ears, as Elliott lifted his head up and exposed his watery eyes to you, “(Y/N), it’s awful. I’m awful!” he turned his body towards you and hugged your waist, “I can’t write for- I can’t write for shit, (Y/N)!” his cursing caught you off guard, but you made no comment, as the writer continued to lament, “It’s been almost two years and I haven’t completed this damn book! I- I-” he buried his face into your shirt and sobbed, “I want to give up, (Y/N). I want to throw it all away.”

You held the back of Elliott’s head in your hand and stroked it, as the redhead cried his heart out. Yoba, how it broke your heart to see him in such… agony. You remained silent while he cried, wanting to give him time. Soon, the sobs subsided and Elliott pulled away from you, his cheeks stained with tears, “I- I apologize,” he looked flustered, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey,” you cupped his face in your hands and playfully squeezed his cheeks, “You’re my friend- Yoba, you’re one of my best friends. You’re allowed to lean on me for support, you’re allowed to cry in my presence,” you released your hold on his cheeks, “I’m here for you.”

Elliott sniffled and wiped away any remaining tears, “You truly are my muse,” he mumbled under his breath. Your chest tightened at his comment, “Huh?” you asked. Elliott’s eyes widened, not realizing that he made that comment aloud, “Oh, uhm- Apologies, it was nothing.”

“Oh,” you did your best to hide your disappointment. Maybe I misheard? “You need a break,” you changed the subject, “You can’t keep pushing yourself when you’re so low on steam,” you gave the writer a pat on the shoulder, “So how about you change your clothes and meet me outside, okay? We’re going to the saloon.”

Elliott nodded in confirmation, “That sounds like a marvelous idea. I’ll just be a moment,” he got up from his writing desk and walked off to his dresser. You took that as your cue to leave the cabin, wanting to give the redhead privacy to change. Although, I wouldn’t mind looking- you smacked your cheeks together, Hey! Don’t think that! You then proceeded to leave the cabin, not wanting to be consumed by thoughts of seeing your best friend naked.

Chapter 8: Spirit’s Eve

Jack-o’-lanterns and other spooky decor lined the pathway into the town square, as you entered Pelican Town for Spirit’s Eve. You dressed up as an old-timey sailor, a simple but classical costume. The town square was buzzing with chatter and the occasional creak of… skeleton bones? You peered out into the distance and sure enough, there were two skeletons in a cage. 

To your surprise, one of the onlookers happened to be Elliott, dressed up in a costume that resembled the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland. I didn’t realize he was into the spooky. You waltzed up to him and tapped him on the shoulder, “Hey, El. Enjoying the display?”

Elliott whipped his body around to face you, his face deathly pale, “Er, I don’t believe I am enjoying the display,” he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I mean to alarm you, but I think those are real skeletons.”

You stifled back a snort, “Oh, yeah?” you eyed the skeletons, as they shuffled about the cage, “I think so, too.”

Elliott audibly gulped and appeared to be on the verge of fainting, “Oh, dear. I think I may need a drink. Care to join me?”

“I would be honored,” you replied. The two of you walked off to the assortment of fall-themed foods and drinks. Elliott grabbed himself a glass of pumpkin ale while you got some apple cider. He slammed the drink back in one or two gulps and exhaled in satisfaction, “That hits the spot,” he poured himself another pumpkin ale, “I needed something to take the edge off after seeing those… creatures,” he shivered. 

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a scaredy cat,” you hummed, taking a sip from your glass of apple cider. Elliott pouted, “It’s perfectly reasonable to be cautious around creatures of the undead,” he protested to you. In exchange, you let out a snort and stated, “It’s okay to be a scaredy cat.”

Elliott rolled his eyes and took another swing of his ale, “I’ll prove to you that I’m not a scaredy cat!” he proclaimed. You eyed him up with curiosity, “Oh, yeah? How so, tough guy?” his cheeks were flushed at your usage of tough guy and he responded, “By completing the maze! I hear that it’s especially spooky,” the redhead pointed to the maze in the distance. He was right, it did look especially spooky. 

“Wanna make this a bet?” you offered to Elliott. The writer’s eyes twinkled with excitement, “Depends on the bet, all I ask is that there’s no skinny dipping involved. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I had to do that.”

Oh, I can imagine, “First one to finish the maze gets an IOU from the loser,” you proposed the bet to Elliott, “Other than skinny dipping,” you added on. Elliott flashed you his signature smile, “That sounds wonderful,” he finished his ale and discarded the glass in the washing bin, “One, two, three, go!” the writer sprinted off, leaving you in the dust, “Hey!” you yelled, trying to finish your cider as quickly as you could so you could run after him. 

Soon, you found yourself in the dreaded maze, thick but neatly trimmed bushes towering before you. You passed by a few other townies in your quest to complete the maze, such as Harvey and Abigail. After confronting a few dead ends, you were positive that the area where you found Sam in had a way. The blond mentioned something off about the nearby bush, perhaps that was the key to beating Elliott.

Footsteps echoed throughout the maze, as the man in question showed up behind you, “It appears that we’re tied,” he stated, “Yet, there also appears to be another dead end.”

“I don’t think so,” you beckoned Elliott to follow you. You approached the bush near the left side of the maze and patted around the area. Your hand suddenly slipped through an opening in the bush and you grinned, “Found it!” you immediately ran through the opening, Elliott hot on your heels. You weaved and bobbed through the terrain, laughing up at a storm. 

However, you failed to notice a tree root on the path and tripped over it, barely twisting your body in time so you landed on your back and not your face. Elliott couldn’t stop himself in time and promptly fell on top of you, slamming the palms of his hands into the ground so he didn’t crush you under his weight. Time seemed to pause, as you and Elliott locked eyes with one another, so painfully close. Your eyes drifted down to his lips and you swore that he did the same. You were so close, you were so very close. 

“Are you okay?” Elliott asked, as he pushed himself off the ground and back onto his feet, much to your disappointment. You were so close, “I’m okay,” you answered. Elliott then extended a hand to you and pulled you up from the ground, you stumbled a bit but Elliott caught you in time before you could fall again. Yoba, he was so warm and gentle, it was as if you were hugging a teddy bear.

“Be careful,” he told you, “I don’t want you to get hurt,” your heart fluttered at his words, “O- Okay,” you stammered a bit, “I’ll try not to.”

“Let’s try to finish the maze,” the writer released you from the embrace. You nodded in agreement and the two of you resumed your journey through the maze in silence. Finally, after what felt like hours, you two arrived at the end of the maze, where a treasure chest laid before you. Elliott gestured to the chest, “You should have it. After all, you were the one who found the opening that got us here.”

“Are you sure?” you questioned the writer. He gave you a smile in confirmation, “I’m positive.”

You approached the treasure chest and opened it, pulling out the prize. It was a golden pumpkin! Oh how it shined so beautifully under the moonlight. You showed the golden pumpkin to Elliott, “Look here! Isn’t this neat?”

“Very neat!” he laughed, “What a wonderful prize,” the writer then pointed to a nearby mine cart, “I believe that might be our ticket out of here.”

You hopped into the mine cart and noticed there was enough room for you, “Wanna ride with me?” you asked. Elliott shook his head, “No, it’s alright. I’ll take it when it comes back.”

You did your best to hide your sadness at his rejection and responded, “Alrighty… I’ll see you later, then,” you activated the mine cart and rode back to the outside of the maze. You considered waiting for Elliott to come back, but ultimately decided against it. You needed to go home, you needed space… so you left.

After some time, Elliott returned to the outside of the maze, eager to see you. Yet, to his surprise, you were nowhere to be seen. He frowned upon the realization that you left early and went over to grab his bag so he could leave, as well. As Elliott left the festival, his bag’s zipper opened a bit, revealing a small bouquet of flowers nestled inside. 

Chapter 9: My Muse 

Things were tense between you and Elliott ever since the incident in the maze during Spirit’s Eve. Each time you would hang out or see one another, the air would be… off. Yet, neither of you would address it, much to the annoyance of Leah, who happened to know both sides of the story and was sworn to secrecy about the crushes. Poor Leah, oh how she just wanted to slam you two’s faces together so you could make up and make out. 

You knew that Leah was right, though; you had to confess sooner or later, but the idea of getting rejected by Elliott consumed any confidence you had about asking him out. Nonetheless, you bought the bouquet from Pierre’s, the traditional gift used to ask a person to be your partner in Stardew Valley. You kept the bouquet fresh with water and plant food, not wanting it to die out before you could give it to Elliott. 

You weren’t sure how this crush started nor how it flourished to the point where your mind was plagued with Elliott almost everyday. Does he feel the same or am I just a dumbass for wanting him to feel the same? That was the question on your mind since Spirit’s Eve. 

You left your farmhouse early one morning and found the flag up on your mailbox, indicating that you had mail. Setting your scythe aside, you headed over to the mail and opened it, collecting the letters inside. You thumbed through the letters, seeing one from Pierre and another from Jodi. However, you stopped when you saw a letter with all too fancy handwriting and a red wax seal on it, Elliott wrote me a letter? you carefully opened the envelope and read its contents.

Dearest (Y/N),

I’m delighted to announce that I finally finished my novel, Camelia Station! I would be the utmost grateful if you were to attend my book reading today, at 3pm in the library. If you can’t, I understand. You’re a busy person, after all. Nonetheless, I hope you can come.

— Elliott 

You grinned ear to ear at his use of ‘Dearest’, he wrote like a Victorian noble. Your eyes darted to the words underneath Elliott’s signatures, eyes wide as you read.

P.S. I have a surprise for you. 

A surprise? your mind ran through all the possibilities of what it could be, Could it be him confessing to me? you shook your head, Maybe not… but this is a good chance for me to, though. You looked down at your watch and set an alarm for a quarter to three, plenty of time to get from the farm to the library. With that all out of the way, you then went about your chores for the day. 

After hours of hard labor, your alarm went off. You ran into your farmhouse and wiped off any sweat or grime from your body, spraying yourself in body mist to conceal the smell. On your way out, you grabbed your bag and the bouquet, neatly tucking it inside the bag. 

By the time you arrived at the library, most of the town was inside, presumably for Elliott’s book reading. Yet, the man of the hour was nowhere to be seen. You scanned the room and found Leah near the front, so you slid up beside her, “Hey Leah,” you adjusted your grip on your bag, “Have you seen Elliott?”

“I did earlier,” she answered, “I think he went to the bathroom, but he’s been gone for a while.”

“Can you hold this for a second? I’ll go find him,” you passed your bag off to Leah and made your way to the bathroom. You entered the bathroom and found Elliott by the sink, gripping down on the porcelain. He was muttering something under his breath, you couldn’t make out the words, “El?” you touched his back and he nearly jumped out of his skin, “(Y/N)!” he exclaimed, “Oh, dear, you gave me a fright!”

“I knew you were a scaredy cat,” you jested. Elliott rolled his eyes, just like last time you brought up his tendency for fear. You moved next to Elliott and leaned against the sink, “Why are you hiding in the bathroom?” you asked. Elliott lowered his gaze and mumbled, “I… I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” you rested your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, “It’s your big day. I know you’re gonna do great. Everyone’s here to support you,” the redhead looked back at you, “Are you sure they’re not here to witness my demise?” You stifled back a laugh at his melodramatic question, “I promise that they’re not here to ‘witness your demise’ or anything of the sort.” 

“Promise?” he asked, his tone similar to that of a small child. You held up your pinky, “I promise,” and intertwined pinkies with Elliott. The redhead smiled weakly, but nonetheless, he was ready to perform. With you trailing behind him, Elliott entered the main area of the library and greeted everyone with his good old Elliott bravo, “Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and folks! I’m ever so honored to have you all here to celebrate the release of my book, Camelia Station.”

As Elliott babbled about his journey with writing his novel, you returned to your spot with Leah and watched with a fond twinkle in your eye at your friend. Elliott took one last deep breath and announced to the crowd, “Before I read the first chapter, there’s something I need to say…” his eyes fell on you, “I wish to thank my muse… (Y/N),” your heart began to pound like a bass drum, “Without them, I wouldn’t have completed this book. Through every hardship and challenge I faced with this process, (Y/N) was my shining light. I dedicate Camelia Station to them, so please... give them a round of applause.”

The library erupted in applause, but it was white noise to you, as you stared at Elliott in awe. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and your hand grew clammy, as you slowly melted from the writer’s sweetness. His muse… I’m his muse.

The applause slowly died down and Elliott seized the opportunity to begin the reading, “Chapter One… Your ticket, sir? Ticket collector Gozman extended a gloved hand towards the young commuter. Ah, yes. I have it right here, he replied, reaching into his coat pocket. Mortified, he discovered that the ticket was missing…”

You listened with a keen ear to Elliott’s reading, mesmerized by his storytelling. The way he switched voices for each character, the vibrato in his words, the detailed imagery transported into the world of Camelia Station. Elliott was talented, but most importantly, he was having fun with his book.

By the time Elliott finished the chapter, a few townsfolk left the library, most likely returning to their daily responsibilities. The remaining audience applauded the writer for his reading and Elliott took a bow, “Thank you, thank you! I will have signed copies for sale at the front. Once again, thank you for coming, everyone!”

You hovered by the front of the library, watching silently while some individuals like Emily and Gus bought a signed copy of Camelia Station from Elliott. Once the crowd dispersed, you approached Elliott and flashed him a cheeky grin, “See, I told you that there was nothing to worry about.”

“You were right,” the writer replied, “Most times, you are right,” you scoffed mockingly, “Most times?” to which Elliott gave you a little nudge, “You do think sea cucumbers are a lovely fish when in actuality, you’re very very very wrong.”

“C’mon! They’re just little guys!” you huffed, much to Elliott’s amusement. A comfortable silence then fell upon the two of you, as you stared into one another’s eyes. Elliott’s pupils were big as saucers, you were positive that yours were, too. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” you rested your hand against your bag, the bouquet so close to your person. With pink tinted cheeks, the redhead answered, “I meant every word.”

“Elliott…” your mouth grew dry with nerves.

“(Y/N)...” the writer whispered.

Time stopped, as you pulled the bouquet out of your bag. At the same time, Elliott pulled out an identical bouquet from his own bag. Neither of you moved or spoke, you could only stare at the opposing bouquet. Soon and in unison, you and Elliott bursted into laughter, loud enough to get a scolding look from Gunther. 

You two finished your laugh fest and smiled at one another, “Wow,” you let out a soft laugh, “We really had the same idea, huh?” the redhead nodded, “It seems so.”

“Guess that means we’re dating?”

“Well, I did have a sonnet for you to highlight your passion, beauty, and kindness, but yes, we are dating.”

Chapter 10: Feast of the Winter Star

The fall season went by in an instant and brought the snow and frigid temperatures of winter. You and Elliott had been dating for a while when the Feast of the Winter Star rolled around. 

To your surprise and joy, Lewis mailed you earlier in the season that Elliott was your secret gift receiver. Part of you wondered if Lewis did that on purpose, but given how he handled his relationship with Marnie (you unfortunately found them in a compromised position in the bushes by the bridge in town), you highly doubted it. 

Despite Camelia Station’s completion, Elliott was already on his next book, a mystery called The Blue Tower. You thought it to be fitting that you gifted him a glass dip pen; he was strict about his writing instruments and never used a laptop, despite its ease and functionality. Hopefully, this was a good compromise. In addition, Marnie’s poor ducks would no longer have to suffer with Elliott’s weekly trips to the ranch for duck feathers. I think those ducks might be afraid of Elliott now. 

The Feast of Winter brought families, friends, and lovers together in the beautifully decorated town square. The lamp posts were lined with tinsel and a thick evergreen tree stood in the center, decked out in various ornaments with a big shining star on the top. You searched the bustling square for Elliott and found him with Gus and Leah, enjoying a glass of cranberry wine.

“Surprise,” you hugged Elliott from behind and whispered in his ear. He yelped and almost dropped his wine, “Oh! (Y/N), my love! You scared me!”

“Told yah,” you cooed, “You are a scaredy cat.”

“I concede,” sighed Elliott, “I am a bit of a scaredy cat.”

“Good enough for me,” you released him from the hug and pecked him on the kiss. You then turned your attention to Leah and Gus, but they were too absorbed in conversation. Well, at least, Gus was, as he enthusiastically lectured Leah about his various techniques for cranberry sauce. Leah, on the other hand, appeared half-sleep, but managed to have perfectly timed head nods to fake engagement.

“By the way,” you perked up at Elliott’s voice, “I have something for you,” he handed you a somewhat heavy box, neatly wrapped in red paper and secured with a golden bow, “I’m your secret gift giver!”

“What a coincidence!” you giggled, as you held out your gift to Elliott, “I’m yours,” the two of you shared a laugh and Elliott mused, “Perhaps the mayor had a part in that.”

“I doubt it,” you responded, “He’s–” you felt Lewis stare daggers in your back, as if he could hear what you were about to say, “He doesn't seem like the type to meddle in romance or romantic relationships,” you looked down at your gift, “Why is this kinda… heavy?”

“Open it up, my dear, and you shall see,” stated Elliott.

“Only if we do it at the same,” you requested and Elliott nodded, “It’s a deal.”

Together, you and Elliott unwrapped your gifts, you more so ripped through yours while Elliott was meticulous with his unwrapping. Before you, there was a black box, you opened the box up and gasped at the item inside, “You didn’t!” you exclaimed, proudly showcasing the gift to the world, “You got me the Polaroid camera we saw at the antique shop in ZuZu City!”

“I did!” replied Elliott, “You looked so happy when you saw it and you mentioned how much you wanted to get back into photographing your life, so I had to get it,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Anything for my muse.”

“You’re sweet,” you chuckled, “Now, look at your gift!”

Elliott opened the thin, white box and nearly choked on his own saliva at the glass dip pen. He carefully removed the pen from the box, a beam of rainbow light shining from the glass, “Oh, (Y/N)... this is one of–” he cut himself short, “No, this is the most beautiful and thoughtful gift I have ever received,” he gave you another kiss on the forehead, “You spoil me, my dear.”

“You haven’t seen the best part yet, turn it around,” you informed Elliott. 

He turned the pen around and read the engraving, “It says…” he squinted, “The Spirit of the Valley,” he seemed a bit confused by the words and you elaborated to him, “Your writing and you, Elliott, are so deeply connected to this valley. You brought life with your writing to this valley. You brought life, joy, and peace to me. You are the spirit that’s ingrained in me and this valley.”

Elliott sniffled, tears pricking the corners of his gentle emerald eyes, “You, my muse, are intertwined with my very being. I would be utterly lacking in life’s blessings if you weren’t here,” he pulled you into a deep kiss, your hands finding their way through his long fiery hair.

“Uh, guys?” the sound of Leah’s voice interrupted the kiss, “Too much PDA.”

Chapter 11: The S.S. Granger

Spring flew by as fast as it came. You tended to your farm, interacted with those in Pelican Town, and partook in the festivities. Your first spring was one full of unknowns and uncertainties but now, you finally felt like you were part of the town and the valley. You got some good use of the camera Elliott gifted you during the Feast of the Winter Star, photographing every precious moment. Your favorite photo was the one Leah took of you and Elliott dancing at the Flower Dance. 

Soon, summer followed the peaceful spring weather with thunderstorms, heatwaves, and… green rain? Yeah, green rain happened. Only in Stardew Valley, huh? It took half of the season before nice sunny weather came and it happened to be the same day you received a somewhat cryptic letter from Elliott.

My darling,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. If you are available, please stop by the beach before noon today. I have something spectacular to show you. 

– Yours truly, Elliott 

Elliott didn’t know, but you cherished every letter he sent you, even though they were  somewhat cheesy. You went back inside your farmhouse and opened your dresser, grabbing the ornate box you kept Elliott’s letters in and placing it inside. Your eyes darted up at the wall clock, the time being around 11am or so. I need to get to the beach!

You made your way to the beach, exchanging greetings with the passing residents. When you stepped on the bridge, you noticed a man with a short crew cut and camo leaning against the bridge and admiring the river. You smiled at him, “Hi, Kent.”

The man in camo flinched at your greeting and you frowned. It was only last spring that Kent returned from the Gotoro-Ferngill War and he wasn’t adjusted yet, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

Kent shook his head, “It’s alright,” he ran a hand through his hair, “Just a reflex.”

“Gotcha,” you nodded. You eyed the river and asked Kent, “Enjoying the view?”

“I am,” he answered, “Water is… calming.”

“Agreed,” you hummed, “Well, I’m off to the beach, but I hope you have a nice day.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” replied Kent, “I wish you the same,” you bid farewell to Kent and resumed your walk to the beach. 

You soon stepped foot on the beach, as a crisp summer breeze blew through the air. You sighed with relief at the cold sensation, it was a hot summer day. Feeling energized, you scanned the beach for Elliott and found him standing outside his cabin. He broke out into a grin when he saw you, “(Y/N)! My love, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you laughed, embracing Elliott. The two of you held the other as tight as you could, “What’s the surprise?” you mumbled, voice muffled by your face in Elliott’s chest. Elliott released you from the hug and responded, “You’ll see,” he intertwined his hand with yours and led you to the pier. In the center of the pier, a rowboat bobbed against the waters. 

Elliott gestured to the boat, “I finally fixed up the old rowboat outside my cabin… with Willy’s help, of course. I’m not much of a handyman but I did give it a fresh coat of paint,” you examined the rowboat with intrigue, its mahogany coat glimmering under the sunlight. You noticed some cursive on the hull of the boat, “S.S. Granger?”

“Named after my high school English teacher, Mr. Granger,” the redhead explained, “He was the one who lit the spark of creativity and my passion for writing,” he smiled sadly at the boat, “We kept in touch after I graduated high school, but sadly, he passed away from cancer when I was finishing up my bachelors’ at East Ferngill University.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you gave Elliott’s arm a squeeze, a sign of support, “I’m sure he would be proud of the man you’ve become.”

“I hope so,” the writer sighed. Elliott shook off his melancholy and hopped onto the boat, extending a helping hand out to you, “Care to join me for its maiden voyage?”

“Of course,” you grasped Elliott’s hand and boarded the rowboat. You took a seat across from Elliott, who grabbed the oars and began rowing farther into the Gem Sea. The pier faded into the distance, as Elliott rowed the boat. By the time he stopped, you could only make out the silhouette of Stardew Valley, “Wow,” you were starstruck, “You can see the whole valley from here.”

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” the writer shuffled around a bit in his seat, “Although, I prefer the beautiful view right before my eyes.”

“You’re cheesy,” you snorted. Elliott shrugged his shoulders, “I would rather be cheesy if it means bringing a smile to your face,” you playfully nudged his arm, “You’re gonna make me melt.”

“Oh, my dear, don’t do that just yet,” Elliott cleared his throat, “I have another surprise for you,” you tilted your head with wonder, “Oh? You do?”

“I do,” the writer stated. He then secured the oars in the boat and began to recite, "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate… Rough winds do shake the darling buds of Spring…”

You leaned in closer, entranced by your boyfriend’s words, as he continued, “And summer’s lease hath too short a date… Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines… And often is his gold complexion dimm’d… And every fair from fair sometime declines…” 

The world around you two came to a standstill, “By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d… But thy eternal summer shall not fade… Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st… Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade…”

You leaned closer and closer into Elliott’s space, you could inhale his sweet pomegranate perfume, or in his words, his eau de parfum, Elliott was always a stickler with his words. He stared into your eyes, your soul, as he finished the sonnet, “When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st… So long as men can breathe or eyes can see… So long lives this, and gives life to thee.”

“Ellie…” you whispered. The writer smiled, “For the first time in my lifetime, I was at a loss for words and it was the moment I laid eyes on you at Pierre’s. You took my breath away, my love. It was only fair to share it with you in the form of one, if not, the greatest love sonnets.”

“Ellie, what are you saying?” you watched, as Elliott pulled a small, velvet box from his pant pocket, “(Y/N),” his tone was deep with emotion, “My muse, my love, my darling, my dear. I have a thousand names for you but,” he pulled a velvet box from his pants pocket, “Will you do me the highest honor and allow ‘spouse’ be one of those names?” Elliott slowly opened the box and inside, there was a Mermaid Pendant.

You covered your mouth and muffled your scream of delight before calming down enough to answer, “Yes! Yes, Elliott, I will marry you!” you embraced the redhead, nearly tackling in the process. You kissed Elliott deeply, the flames of love and passion exploding like fireworks. In that very moment, everything in the world- no, everything in the universe- was simply perfect.

Chapter 11: Wedding Bells

You fidgeted with your Mermaid’s Pendant, as Marnie and Emily added the final touches to your wedding outfit. Once they finished your outfit, you promptly walked off from the mirror in your farmhouse and began to pace around the farmhouse, “Oh my Yoba, what if he changes his mind?” you spouted off your worries. 

“I highly doubt,” answered Leah, your person of honor, “If he dares to even think about leaving you at the altar, I’ll knock some sense into him,” she held up her fists, “And I mean knock some sense into him.”

“Thanks, Leah,” you sighed, relieved. Emily, a member of your wedding party, approached you with your bouquet, a small one made of summer spangles and sunflowers you grew on the farm, “You are gonna do great, (Y/N)!” she reassured you, “I’m manifesting it for you, you will do great.”

“Thanks, Emily,” you chuckled, “I can always count on your manifestations.”

“Are you ready, dear?” Marnie asked, “It’s almost time.”

“I’m as ready as I can be,” you answered. 

You exited the farmhouse with Emily, Leah, and Marnie; the four of you making way to the entrance of the beach near Cindersap Forest. You gripped the bouquet tightly, your chest just as tight with fear. Marnie stood beside you and held out her arm, you relaxed the hold on your bouquet and locked arms with Marnie.

“You’re such a gorgeous marrier,” the rancher told you, “I’m so honored to be the one who passes you off, I hope I do your parents’ duty proud.”

Your parents couldn’t attend the wedding, your father being overseas fighting in the Gotoro-Ferngill War and your mother on the other side of the Ferngill Republic with her responsibilities at the hospital she worked at. You responded to Marnie, “You’re like a mom to me, Marnie. It felt right that you would be the one to hand me off.”

“And you’re like one of my own, (Y/N),” she retorted. You stared out towards the beach, getting a small sneak peek at the wedding arch. It’s now or never. You gave Marnie a nod and she hollered to the trio of Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail by the entrance, “It’s time!”

“Alright!” Sam cheered, “Let’s rock!” the band launched into the wedding march and you began walking to the beach with your wedding party behind you. 

Before you, the entirety of Pelican Town sat in white fold out chairs on the beach, as you followed the row of fabric towards the wedding arch. Near the front of the crowd, you spotted two familiar figures in a suit and blue dress, your parents. When you passed them, you whispered to them, “You came.”

“We did!” your mom smiled at you, “It took some phone calls, but we didn’t want to miss our angel baby’s wedding,” your dad nodded in agreement, “I can handle Gotoro grunts on the front line, but the thought of missing my only child’s wedding? That’s unacceptable. I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay!” you replied, “It’s a great surprise!” you blew kisses at your parents and continued your walk to the wedding arch. Under the arch, Willy and Gus stood by Elliott as his wedding party. Your soon-to-be husband’s back faced you and once released to the altar by Marnie, you tapped Elliott on the back, “I’m here, honey.”

Elliott turned around and audibly gasped, “My darling! You- You-” tears suddenly formed in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, “Oh, my sweet darling, you look absolutely radiant,” he leaned in to kiss you, only to have Mayor Lewis shove his hand in between you, “Mr. Lovebird! No kissing until I say so!” he proclaimed. Elliott pouted at the mayor’s interruption, but nonetheless, he pulled back. 

The two of you smiled widely at the other, your eyes shimmering with anticipation. Lewis stood behind you and he began the ceremony, “Can all attendees rise?”

The wedding guests rose from their seats and Lewis spoke to everyone, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Elliott and (Y/N). My dear friends,” he smiled at you and Elliott, “This is a new chapter in your lives, from the moment I proclaim them to be spouses to the day you die.”

“That’s the plan,” you mused, earning a few chuckles. Mayor Lewis let out a laugh, “Splendid! Then we should get right into it!” he continued with his opening remarks, but you paid no attention to him, as you found yourself lost in Elliott’s eyes. 

“Now, the marriers will exchange vows,” you perked up at the mention of vows, watching silently as Elliott pulled out a piece of parchment and unfolded it, “(Y/N)... As I mentioned before during our boat ride, I was at a loss of words when I first laid eyes on you,” he recited his vows.

He let out a shaky breath, on the verge of crying again, “And today, I am again at a loss for words. There are no words in our language that can accurately describe your beauty, your strength, your resilience, your passion, your love. (Y/N), I thank Yoba and the forces of the universe that we are here at this moment,” the redhead hastily wiped his tears away, “You are my world, (Y/N). I love you.”

A collection of ‘aws’ and cheers erupted from the audience, as they clapped for Elliott’s vows. You sniffled a bit and blinked back your own tears, “Damn,” you let out a wobbly laugh, “Your vows blew mine out of the water, honey,” you passed your bouquet to Leah and grasped Elliott’s hands, “Elliott, the day I met… I was hella pissed off that you grabbed my cereal.”

The crowd laughed and you added on, “I thought you were a dick for that, but when you explained to me that you only wanted to help… that spark of unprompted kindness lit a flame in me. As I got to know you, I found myself falling deeper and deeper in love with you. From your passion to your mannerisms to your silliness to your determination… Elliott, I can’t picture my future without you. I can’t wait to make a beautiful life with you.”

Another round of applause came from the wedding attendees and Elliott grinned at you, his eyes full of unabashed love for you. Mayor Lewis gestured for the applause to simmer down and once there was silence, he announced, “With the vows now done… It’s my honor to, on this lovely summer day, unite Elliott and (Y/N) together as one,” you squeezed Elliott’s hands, eager to hear the ‘okay’ to kiss.

“As the mayor of Pelican Town and regional bearer of the matrimonial seal…” the mayor stated, as you took a deep breath, “I now pronounce you spouses! You may kiss!” you and Elliott wasted no time when given the ‘okay’ to kiss, as Elliott dipped you and kissed you tenderly on the kiss. Cheers and hollers of joy erupted once more from the wedding attendees in celebration of your new matrimony. 

Elliott pulled you back up and finished the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. He whispered softly to you, “You’re my spouse,” to which you smiled, “And you’re my spouse,” you planted a kiss on Elliott’s cheek, “It’s time for our new chapter, isn’t it?”

“You’re right about that, my dear,” he answered, “The first chapter in our story.”

A new chapter, indeed.

...

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...

...

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Epilogue: Remembrance

A redheaded woman in pantsuit stood in front of the orchard, fresh fruit hanging from the trees. Besides her, two small children held each of her hands. The woman heard the sound of footsteps, as a man in farmer overalls and similar red hair approached the orchard, his work boots crunching the autumn leaves. 

“Eleanor,” the farmer greeted the well-dressed woman, “Glad to see you here,” he supported his body against the hoe, “I didn’t think you would come.”

“I may be a busy woman, but I take offense that you doubt my attendance for this day, Elias,” Eleanor scoffed at Elias, the farmer. He shrugged his shoulders and instead commented, “You brought Kenny and Quinn with you?”

“Yes,” answered Eleanor, “I thought they deserved a chance to– Heyo!” a loud voice cut into the conversation, as another redhead appeared. They dressed in casual but neat attire, a flannel wrapped around their waist and their exposed arms displaying some old scars, “Sorry, I’m late! I got held up at my logging site.”

“Late as ever, Echo,” chuckled Elias. With a pout, Echo exclaimed, “Hey! Not my fault that I had to cut down a whole forest after last week’s wildfire!”

“Enough, you two,” Eleanor stated, “Do you have the supplies?” to which Echo and Elias confirmed that they did, “Splendid,” she squatted down to her children’s levels, “Kenny, Quinn… I know this might seem scary, but Mommy’s here to keep you safe, okay? You might not understand it now, but you deserve the chance to see them.”

“Okay, Mommy,” replied Kenny and Quinn. Eleanor squeezed their hands and with that, the group entered the orchard, going deeper and deeper until they made it to their destination. Two gravestones stood proudly in the center of the orchard, a few dead fruits and flowers by them. Echo pulled out a trash bag and collected the dead items while Eleanor and Elias set down fresh pomegranates and sunflowers. 

“Mommy, where are we?” asked Quinn.

“We’re at your…” Eleanor blinked back tears, “These are your grandparents, you were very little when they went to Yoba, but they loved you both so very much.”

Kenny stared out at the gravestones and squinted, “Mommy, what do they say?”

Eleanor read the gravestone engravings aloud, “The one on the left has ‘Elliott Cunnigham’ at the top and below it, it says ‘Beloved Writer, husband, and father.’ The one on the right has ‘(Y/N) Cunningham’ with the words ‘Beloved Town Hero, spouse, and parent’,” Eleanor looked up at Echo and Elias with tears in her eyes, “Can one of you do it?”

“I got it,” answered Elias. He approached Eleanor’s side and grabbed the final offering, setting it down between the graves, “We can go if you want.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” replied Echo. Eleanor nodded in agreement, “Let’s go to the Stardrop Saloon, I think Gus would be happy to see all of us together.”

“Sounds like a great plan,” chuckled Elias. 

With everyone in tow, the siblings and their children left the orchard, leaving the gravestones at peace for another year. The final offering laid still in the space between the burial sites. 

A single box of cereal.

[baby-splash]

Nobody talks about how fucking cool Edgar and Eric Jomfru are and it's actually so sad.

These guys attended EVERY Dethklok show, with ZERO injuries, meaning they traveled the entire world. Not only that, they turned it into a business- They sold merch on their website, which had hundreds of thousands of daily views. That's fandom clout you can never even dream of.

They had the balls to stand there and threaten Dethklok for money. After Eric is shot, Edgar still has enough drive to somehow evade several snipers and be captured alive, plot his escape, swim out with a kid on his back, and become an international terrorist capable of literal mind control. He lived with a guy who spent his entire life in near-perfect solitude and they seemed to get along pretty well. Imagine their little domestic day to day life, between the revengence.

He escaped a horde of angry burn victims, once again alive, infiltrated Mordhaus (and lived AGAIN) to take the brute force route of shooting Dethklok with a gun (Magnus could never) and was still able to put his hatred aside when he realized this isn't what Eric wanted.

Despite everything Dethklok put Edgar Jomfru through he was able to put aside his hatred (and he still says they make him sick to his stomach, in DSR) and admit they meant something to him- to his brother, to a lot of people- and were part of a greater whole that he didn't have a right to destroy. Something he was ultimately willing to put personal grudges aside and die for.

He and his brother dropped out of HARVARD to follow a metal band on the road and by all we're shown, their only regret was being hit by a drunk driver. They still made what looks to be a pretty comfortable, possibly even rich (concert tickets ain't cheap for Dethklok) lifestyle for themselves.

Edgar is never once truly inhibited by his disability and never allows it to define him, and it ISNT the source of his rage, or the start of his character arc. Do you know how rare that is?

They start off as typical toxic fans who have made their livelihood by feeling entitled to someone else's work, only to end up with a deeper respect for them as people and for their output as real art with meaning to the world. They could've been NASA scientists or some other kind of mad genius, but instead, they followed their passion for metal and that's honestly badass? Also they're from Ohio so you know they're self starters because there's fuck all to do there.

They never lose their virginity because they never lose, period.