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crystalflygeo · 1 year ago

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How to train your dragon ft Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: dom bottom!reader and subtop!zhongli YEEAAAAH WE DOING THIS BABES. Collaring/Leash. pet play. primal play. praise kink. bit of shibari at the start. oral on reader.Zhongli has dragon features (horns/tail/tongue) but only 1 dick this time tho//hit.

notes: I ABSOLUTELY BLAME @zhxngii BECAUSE SHE AWAKENED MY INNER DOM. I DIDN'T KNOW I COULD DOM??? //HIT also @silentmoths bc together we brainrotted this idea I am so fucking WEAK for petplay dcbhbchjkancjak //rabid horny crys noises.

Light breathy moans escape your lips as you shift slightly against the bed headboard, back arching and biting your lip at the heated pleasure.

Your spread legs twitch a little as you groan, right hand tugging just slightly at the leash held in it. "Hng... fuck, t-that's a good boy..."

The pull of the collar around Zhongli's neck makes him press even closer against your pussy, licking and sucking more insistently at your wet folds. Long hair cascading down his back, though some strands drape around his shoulders and tickle at your skin.

You keen, free hand gripping so hard at the bed covers your knuckles turn white. The man buried between your legs dives in with as much raw passion as a certain determination. With his arms tied behind his back, Zhongli tilts his head for a better angle and his nose presses against your mound, sinful long tongue drawing wet stripes along your core and flicking at your clit, teasing the little pearl and earning him more of your sweet sounds.

The sight, coupled with the hot, wet slide of Zhongli's mouth steadily surrounding you, buzzes like electricity under your skin, leaving your fingers tingling and pooling more fire in your core.

"S-so good for me..." You can't help but roll your hips towards him, searching for that delicious friction. "So well trained and behaved hmmm-"

His long dragon tail sways after him at that.

Working his tongue sinuously against you. Each fluttering motion sends sparks up your spine, until your heart is pounding in your chest in anticipation and your head is swimming with arousal. Zhongli snakes that long dragon tongue inside you, probing carefully and slowly at your insides and feeling you clench. The motion has your thighs trembling and you let out a loud whine, unconsciously tugging at the leash again on reflex. Heat screws directly into your gut, surging with each swipe and flick of his tongue, dragging in and out of you, the wet muscle reaching deeper every time. Each little noise that falls from your mouth seems to spur him on, increasing his speed until your toes are curling at the sheets, body taut with pleasure.

"Yes, yes... oh! Ooohh... m-make me cum... and I'll let you- hng- fuck me. You want that don't you?" You coo, free hand releasing the sheets to instead curl around one of his golden antlers.

The reaction is instantaneous as Zhongli purrs.

"F-Fuck!" Waves of pleasure crash down on you at the vibrations against your sensitive folds, cresting higher each time, and you toss your head back. Skin burning, muscles trembling, breath stuttering until every sensation peaks abruptly with an obscene shuddering moan, leaving you helpless to keep from coming in Zhongli's mouth.

Distantly, you feel him growl against your pussy, retracting his tongue to slurp and lick at your juices instead like they’re the sweetest ambrosia.

You ride out the flood of heat, gasping for breath as your body slowly melts into relaxation, and when the tide recedes, you blink the dots out of your vision and look down to see the dragon lapping gently at your core, cleaning up your arousal. “Good boy...” You rasp, letting go of his antler to card your fingers along his dark hair, fingers massaging idly at his scalp.

Those bright golden eyes stare up at you with adoration and your heart flips in your chest.

Zhongli nuzzles at your inner thighs as you enjoy the fading glow of your orgasm before you start shifting and tug gently on his collar to make him pull back. He lets out a huff.

You sit up and surge forward, cupping his face in your hands. "Hmm, you really are so good for me, aren't you?" You nuzzle at him, planting kisses around his cheeks, his nose, his jaw. He sighs and relaxes, tail once again wagging after him. "My beautiful beloved dragon..." You nip at his neck and he inhales sharply. From the corner of your eye, you see his large erection twitch. Straining against his stomach and drooling tacky precum, the head flushed in a lovely dark color.

"Well, we made a deal, didn't we?" You whisper against his skin as your hand lowers down to rub against his length, giving him a couple of lazy strokes as he lets out a mix between a whine and a moan as his hips buckle against your hand. “You earned it…” You coo at his ear.

Even though he could have shredded them apart at any time, he lets you painstakingly undo the knots at his arms and unwind the rope from them. You rub and massage a little at the wrists and muscles, leaving another kiss at his forearm as he flexes them a little. In seconds you find yourself caged under his larger frame, pressed against the bed and crossing stares with him.

His golden eyes are feral, simmering under his skin you can almost feel the scales flickering to life, to burst free. The dragon claws and howls within its cage, every instinct carved within his ancient bones demanding he take action, demanding freedom from the confines of his mortal guise.To take him mate and claim you, breed you.

And yet he stays still. For you. Hanging on your words.

You stroke your hands along his skin, before going up and curling a finger around the collar, appreciating the lewd contrast of the black color against his skin. You fidget a little with it. “Do you want me to keep the leash on or not?” You ask coyly. “You can speak.”

“Anything you want.” He replies evenly.

You chuckle. “I am asking you though, this is your prize after all…”

He bends down a little until his forehead rests against yours. “My prize is you. In any way you’d have me.”

Your breath hitches at the sincerity and pure desire in his words.

“Keeping it on then…” You say, giving a quick peck against his lips before you shift and roll over, pulling a pillow closer to your chest, burying your cheek on it as you stare at him over your shoulder, hand pulling at said leash just a bit.

He straddles your legs and you feel his cock rub against your ass. His hands at both sides of you with one of them intertwining his fingers with yours.

“Now… give me a good fucking, my pet…”

You feel a clawed hand guiding your hips and finally, the blunt head of his cock prods at your entrance. Zhongli shoves forward and you gasp as he slips inside. Your walls stretch to accommodate him and you moan low in your chest from the steady drag, head falling forward. He doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated and you shiver at the sensation of being so full.

The hand at your hip slides underneath to press against your stomach and the sound that escapes you is pure sin. Zhongli seems to like it, since he presses harder and his hips jerk, shifting his cock inside you, giving aborted little thrusts and eliciting another high-pitched whine.

“D-don’t- Don’t tease me-!” You jerk the leash. His chest pressing against your back. “Behave.”

Zhongli nips at your shoulder and growls.

“Don’t get an attitude with me or I’ll change my mind.”

Zhongli grumbles low in his chest and your chuckle is cut short as he quickly pulls out and slams forward again before you can even process, you’re empty.

“Fuck-!”

Detaching from your back, he holds your hips again and thrusts once more, using his grip to drag you back against him, holding you there so you can feel every inch of his cock filling you up, rubbing and touching you so deeply it was too much and simply not enough. You gasp and whine, eyelids fluttering. Zhongli slides out, then back in, gaining speed with each tantalizing stroke until his pelvis is slapping loudly against your ass.

Every thrust snaps an electric spark as the dragon practically mounts you, rocking you against the mattress until your thighs are trembling and you’re muffling your moans and squeals against the pillow. Zhongli is panting above you, each rasping breath rattling with a gusty exhale, catching on the growl building within his chest. Blood pounding in your ears, heart rattling as his pace chases even faster, reaching a desperate frenzy; The hot rigid length filling you over and over again blurs into a steady, burning stream of sensation.

You let Zhongli use your body like a feral animal in rut, every thrust punching out a pitiful noise out of your lips, stars dancing in your eyes and heat surging until you’re nearly incoherent with it, drooling against the pillow.

Your trembling hand yanks weakly at the leash and his pace stutters, you call out to him with a whine, teary eyes begging at him and he surges forward in an open-mouthed kiss, filthy and clumsy with how you both are worked up right now.

“Good-” You choke out against his lips. “T-That’s a good boy, Li-”

He growls with satisfaction, losing his even rhythm as his thrusts become sloppy, recklessly slamming in and out of your warm heat. His tail wraps around one of your legs.

“Such a good pet for me-” Your nails dig into your palms, one of them tangled with the leash, the other held by Zhongli’s for dear life. “Come on… come on, Li… c-cum inside me-”

The dragon slams a few more times against you before burying himself completely inside, going rigid as a loud groan tears out through gritted teeth. You all but mewl at the familiar feeling of his hot cum seeping inside you, body shaking with your own release as the heat climbing through your body overflows with a blinding flash.

You whimper and whine as you ride the dizzying wave of pleasure, vision blurred, mouth hanging open.

Once the peak ebbs away, you’re left with trembling limbs and a heaving chest, sagging on the bed exhausted.

Zhongli gingerly slides out making you moan softly at the now unpleasant emptiness, your combined fluids running down your legs. You twist sluggishly onto your side and pull him down not by the leash this time, but by wrapping your arm around his shoulder. He presses and nuzzles against you and you let out a breathy tired chuckle. “Good boy…” You mumble.

He intertwines your hands again and pulls them up to kiss at the back of your hand, then your knuckles. “Hm… I do believe no one had ever called me those names before.”

Had you not been so tired, you’d be more embarrassed about the whole ordeal, but right now you can only manage a bashful smile. “Well… did the mighty lord of geo enjoy being my pet?” You ask, fingers tracing the black collar around his neck.

“I did.”

“You want to… try it again sometime?”

“If you want to.” He replies, his gaze warm and affectionate, scanning your face searchingly. “Did you enjoy it, my dear?”

You avert your eyes, a blush finally creeping in your face as the adrenaline washes off with the calm atmosphere. “I… really did.” Your hand moves up from the collar to his cheek. “You’re always so good to me, Li.”

“Hm, I simply love you. My mate…” Zhongli leans in close, the tip of his nose tracing a path along your cheek.

“I love you too.” You close the few inches of distance between your lips and kiss him, slow and meaningful.

He kisses back immediately, sinking into it with a low, throaty croon. Suddenly you find yourself on your back with him pushing you into the mattress, the leash and strands of his hair dangling over your sweaty skin, and his hips rolling up to yours.

You swat at his shoulder playfully. “No! Bad dragon! Insatiable-! That’s all you get!”

Zhongli chuckles, deep and rich voice making your heart skip. He nuzzles into the space between your shoulder and neck once more before pulling back and sitting up on the bed. “Let’s go take a bath, then.”

“Oh, so we’re back to you giving the orders? You’re still wearing the collar, you know?”

“I suppose I am. In that case, whatever my sweet mate demands…”

“A bath sounds good.” You chuckle. He nods and stands up, you get only a few seconds to admire his body before he picks you up, ignoring your squeal, and heads over to the bathroom. Hopefully, only to get cleaned up…

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jinkiezzsstuff · 9 months ago

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Back to Life

human!alastor x human!gnreader

Part 1 of 5+

summary for part: you had just been for a walk in the woods, and now suddenly you’re standing over a historical looking guy with a chipper attitude and… a gun? thankfully he’s here to help you in your bloodied and confused state, but as things play out you can’t help but notice nothing is like it was before your fall, and all you have to trust is the odd grinning man

summary for series: One day when waltzing through the woods a peculiar looking buck led you deeper in, while following, you fell hitting your head and woke to a stranger standing over you. You don’t know where you are, how you got here, or who this guy is, but he’s all you’ve got and he’s utterly insane.

warnings for part: short first chap, lowercase intended; i’m feeling quirkyyy, multiple parts-i put other things aside because my brain is STUCK on human alastor sorry lads ;-;, blood, descriptions of injury, kinda strange stylized writing, i’ve got like a whole story thing planned compared to the other ones-this one’s got a whole plot line. no descriptions of reader- of any kind, no pronouns, i looked up a shit ton of 1920s outfits & speech just for a couple lines lmao, OOC alastor my reasoning behind that is he’s not in hell yet so he hasn’t had that kind of demonic development yet, he’s still a psycho tho and we love him for that, also mommas boy <3, he uses 1920s slang a lot lads, throughout the whole series

warnings for series: homicide, morally grey reader, eventual smut, cannibalism, reader will eat a guy, unknowingly, alastor be doing witchcraft magical madness but it’s never in depth explanations, alastor is a mommas boy and it will be hounded on, annoying 1920s slang, alastor is more accumulated to the era he’s in so he may be OOC 100 years in hell would change a guy, varying descriptions of injuries and blood in detail, takes place in 1927, alastor is 27 oop born in 1899 tho, nothing here is canon, just loosely follows, reader is in their 20s at least; no younger, alastors mom is nameless mostly, maybe later on she’ll have a name; she’s 48, alastor has daddy issues bc same, mimzy may be added later depending,

you remembered seeing a deer while wandering through the woods, you were taking pictures of the scenery when you saw this curious looking deer.

it stood tall with large antlers, a beautiful reddish brown coat, you’d never seen a deer so close. brining your camera up slow you went to snap a picture when your phone crashed, you weren’t even able to get the buck in frame before your phone fizzled out.

the deer started to walk away, but you so badly wanted these pictures. slowly you followed behind, cautious of the leaves and sticks below your feet. you followed it over a fallen tree, through bush and branch. finally you entered an area filled with more foliage, closer trees that blocked off sunlight, more bushes and fallen trees, wild flowers, moss and random mushrooms.

you watched as the buck disappeared behind thick bush, and that’s the last conscious moment you remembered. you woke at the bottom of the hill, when you opened your eyes you didn’t know a thing.

it was like you were a blank slate, everything was as it was; there was no confusion, you were simply in the woods with no worry or question as to why. you laid there, your head lulling from side to side observing the tree covered sky above, the sunlight that shot through the trees highlighting the particles floating through the air.

there wasn’t a sound at all; the animals feared something near. inhaling deeply, you willed your head up, wincing and groaning in pain. suddenly life as you knew it came back to you, you weren’t just a mindless being in the woods, you were you, and you were out here taking pictures and then, fell?

you still weren’t sure what had happened just that you followed a deer and then… fell asleep and woke here. your body ached badly, specifically your forehead, your back, neck and shoulders. it seemed the brunt of the fall was your head, lifting your hand you touched your forehead feeling a flap of skin that wasn’t there before.

looking down at your hand you weren’t surprised to see some blood, in fact the top you had worn had been covered in it. “hello dear, funny place to snooze if ya ask me.” a voice joked, startling you. however your body was too tired to startle, so despite your heart rate increasing, and the jump you felt in your bones, your body remained eerily still, your head slowly turning toward the sound.

standing above you was a man with a soft smile, he wore circluar glasses and the strangest outfit. he wore a coat chestnut brown- a lumberjack coat; strange looking pants that puffed out at the hips, with boots that the pants cinched into them. his hands were covered by gloves, and tiny brown coloured coiled curls popped out from his hunting cap, and on his shoulder a leather strap that allowed a large shotgun to sit on his back.

you were taken aback by his looks, his outfit looked vintage, historical too, and he was, well, gorgeous. “you’re bleeding quite a bit dear, how’s about we getcha up and outta here, hm?” lending his hand to you, the man gave you a charming smile with lidded eyes. you felt something was off about the man, a lingering feeling that something beyond your understanding was telling you to run, get away.

instead you whimpered, pathetically so, and placed your hand into his, letting him hoist you up. he wrapped your arm around him, while he looped his own arm under you, helping you walk. it was hard to do so, your ribs hurt with every breath you took, your head felt like it was floating above your shoulders, your cheeks watered making you swallow constantly, and though you were shivering your body felt ablaze on the inside, like hot coals were lit under your skin.

the man looked down at you, you could see from your peripheral vision he was inspecting you, but you were too pained to care. “how’d you find yourself at the bottom of the hill my dear, someone try to bump you off?” his voice was way too chipper for your current mood, and all you did was mutter a confused ‘huh’ at him, thankfully he laughed that off.

“listen, i’ll take you to my joint my mothers over so we can getcha all patched up, but you’ve gotta spill whatever happened to you if that’s quite alright.” despite the sturdiness in his voice, asserting what was going to happen with expectations, he tone was somewhat kind. dryly you mutter out ‘name?’, your voice raspy and unlike your own. the man chuckled before he responded in a smooth tone. “alastor dear, pleasure to meet you.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel alastor #human alastor #human alastor x reader

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nymphbroadcast · 9 months ago

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Octavinelle x MC! like Alastor

⊹Synopsis ⊹ೃ 🌊⋆The Octavinelle boys with an MC! or Yuu like Alastor.

⊹Relationship ⊹ೃ 🌊⋆ Fall in love / free of interpretation.

⊹GN! MC/Yuu/Reader ⊹ೃ 🌊⋆

⊹Clarifications: Clearly MC! Alastor is not a murderer/homicide for obvious reasons, nor will his taste for raw meat be specified as such nor will his sadistic tendency shown in his appearances be exaggerated, MC! remains with the characteristics of Alastor's deer (ears, antlers, etc...)

⊹Alastor's Analysis ⊹ೃ 🌊⋆

• He is an expert manipulator, he is polite and elegant, he believes that the old style is the best, he usually uses ruins of buildings as "his safe place", it is almost impossible for him to stop smiling, he is a fan of the radio and despises modern technology, He can be quite sadistic, he likes to find entertainment in everything, he is good at intimidating others, he gets along better with older people, curiously he gets along well with people of his opposite gender without ulterior motives, he likes classical music especially Jass, He has a habit of appearing out of nowhere, he likes to sing and dance, his way of speaking is quite polite and with old expressions, he likes to see people smile, he is fond of venison, he likes to make cruel and insensitive jokes, He has a strange way of motivating people, he usually takes advantage of "powerful" people to see their behavior and gain their trust, he is unpredictable and illegible, he does not usually swear, he can rarely be sentimental, he dislikes the physical contact that the He does not initiate, he is physically agile and fast and remains calm in dangerous moments, he does not like to be talked too much or asked many questions, he is quite intimidating and terrifying when he wants to, most believe that he does not have close friends due to his mysterious behavior, he is quite confident in his abilities and usually resents being reminded that there will always be someone better than him.

Azul ashengrotto

🐙 Azul feels intimidated although he hides it as best he can, he hasn't seen many people like you, especially because of the smile he has 24/7.

🐙 Upon meeting Azul, he tries to read you to see how dangerous you are for him, clearly he does not get clear results which makes him anxious, it is clear that you would not tell him anything important about you that he could use against you and since there are no records From you in Twisted Wonderland, Azul becomes stressed on cosmic levels.

🐙 (Events of chapter 3) When he finally has a chance to use you for his own benefit, he notices that you are more dangerous than he thought, even with your unreadable smiling expression when signing the contract with him, Azul tries to stay calm because you're the only person who doesn't have it in his hands, EVEN IF YOU LOSE RAMSHAKLE AGAINST HIM YOU DON'T LOOK NERVOUS-

🐙 When you directly get involved with Leona and Savanaclaw he can't help but he's taken aback, your deer characteristics would make him think that you would be roast meat if you get involved with people like them...

🐙 Coming to the final point, your skills as a manipulator (which remind him a bit of himself) and expert strategist show him that he definitely misjudged you... Even if you don't have the magic that the average Twisted Wonderland realizes you do. What makes you so fearsome is your terrifying intelligence...

🐙 Azul admires your confidence, even during his overblot you remained calm and always confident in your abilities to win, even helping the Leech Twins and Leona and Ruggie to get him out of his overblot.

🐙 Azul thought you would be angry with him after everything he did, his eyes reflected a mixture of fear and confusion when after taking him out of his overblot you applauded and with your characteristic smile you congratulated him for ´´A great performance!´´ on your own words.

🐙 After that, Azul realizes that you are not as bad as he thought, rather a little weird in the way you are, however he cannot help but be startled when you appear out of nowhere and the first thing he hears is your voice with that effect of old radio that gives him chills.

🐙 When he asks you why you keep visiting them and talking as if nothing had happened, he doesn't know whether to feel offended or flattered to hear you call him and the Leech Twins a good entertainment that you never had the pleasure of seeing before.

🐙 One day you arrive out of nowhere at the Mostro Lounge VIP room and tell him that you've been feelingexceptionally great since you started broadcasting on ´´The NRC Radio Show´´... Azul never knew that existed, then you clarify that indeed, it was your idea and that the Headmage decided to accept because you were giving popularity to the NRC... Azul indeed saw it coming.

🐙 Azul does not admit it but he is happy when you offer to accompany him to his TOTALLY legal fools with aggressive or problematic clients, you instill terror and imposingness standing in a corner of the room attentive to any aggressive movement of the client towards Azul or even the Leech Twins, It seems incredible to him how your antlers grow when you use your power and your eyes change to radio dials.

🐙 DEER EARS DEER EARS DEER EARS... YOU HAVE DEER EARS!!!!!!

🐙 Azul is completely in love with your fluffy deer ears! He thinks they look so cute when you move them that he wants to touch and caress them forever! Fortunately he knows that you don't really like physical contact and stops his impulses.

🐙 Azul loves how polite and elegant you are, although he would like you to be more versatile in terms of modesty, since he once asked you to do a commercial for the Mostro Louge and you did it!…. on radio...

🐙 He is careful not to anger you or underestimate you, note that it is something you hate, you once sent a guy flying who ripped your vest trying to ''hurt you''... needless to say, Azul was petrified... ( the Leech Twins cheered you on in the background)

🐙 You have a peculiar way of lifting Azul's spirits, practically calling him a coward and weak, inciting his anger and resentment only to later realize that in one way or another you helped him achieve what he wanted.

🐙 Maybe his liking for you is mixed with his insecurities, he never sees you nervous, you are confident, ambitious, you inspire confidence but also respect... Something that he lacks, you are what completes him in several ways and that is what He loves you.

Jade Leech

🍄 Jade...Jade...Jade...JADE IS YOUR NUMBER 1 FAN.

🍄 You're smart, strong, cunning, confident, mysterious... Practically perfect in Jade's eyes

🍄 Jade notices that you actually have a resemblance to him, you are more calculating and less spontaneous, you are usually calm but you don't hesitate if you need to become wild and the best... You always have a big smile on your face!... yours is scary much more and it's literally 24/7 in your face... But he don't care!

🍄 It's obvious that you even surpass him in many aspects, power, connections and the ease of talking to people without them running away when they see you... almost... But! You guys are just like weirdos! Who knew Jade would watch a ''deer eat another deer''... FOR BREAKFAST.

🍄 If you agree with Jade on something, it is the advantages of showing a smile. He notes that you almost always show it to gain someone's trust, and clearly you are much less expressive about removing your smile from your face compared to him.

🍄 Jade is fascinated by your qualities, he is fascinated to see how you can differentiate him from his own brother and how you can face them both in combat... both magic and bare knuckle, he loves your self-confidence and he loves trying to make you nervous, even though he never succeeds he loves trying to do it.

🍄 DEER EARS DEER EARS DEER EARS... YOU HAVE DEER EARS!!!!! X2

🍄 Unlike Azul, Jade doesn't stop wanting to touch your fluffy deer ears, that may or may not have started a somewhat curious fight... because while you were trying to cut off Jade's hands he seemed to barely resist the urge to kiss you.

🍄 Some of the things that Jade likes about you is your obvious disdain for modern technology, he is curious about why this is and usually asks you some indirect questions about it but you always answer things like 'My thing is the radio.' ' or ''It doesn't matter.''

🍄 Being someone used to Floyd's sudden hugs, it is obvious that he is used to physical contact in general and always has an amused smile on his face when he sees your awkward smile full of disgust and killing towards someone who touched you without your permission.

🍄 He will probably be either fascinated or shocked to see you turn into a real demon... Your legs grow, your eyes are red radio dials and even your body stretches! And not to mention the rest of the details like the sewn corners of your mouth...

🍄 The first time he sees you make a deal with someone from NRC he can say that he found someone else to follow along with his brother the almost diabolical way in which you persuade the student and convince him that you are an ally and that making a dealing with you will not cost them much, it almost makes him propose to you, not only do you love entertainment at the expense of others, but you are also a kind of "attractor" to interesting situations and people!... and we know that the Leech Twins can be really sadistic....

🍄 Jade finds some things in you similar to Azul, but it is very clear that you are much more mature, patient, manipulative and sadistic than Azul.

🍄 He's happy to see that you follow Azul as much as you can, that means he can see you more often! He clearly takes as a compliment the fact that you consider Azul, him and Floyd ''entertainment''?... well that doesn't matter! You are a very interesting new friend and he loves being with you.

🍄 You are a much more superior version of Azul, disguising yourself with your adorable deer ears and charisma like a prey and so no one notices that you have teeth as sharp as a shark's, Jade loves that because unlike him and his brother have an appearance that intimidates and produces chills and they do not always give "friendly vibes", however, regardless of appearance, you always manage to look harmless in front of everyone, even in front of guys like the Headmage or Leona, who take you for a fool and harmless... Jade would pay anything to see how they would react if they saw your true face.

🍄 He doesn't dislike your old style, just like him, you are elegant and formal almost all the time and he likes that, you are not as obtrusive as his brother so he can talk to you about things of interest to both of you without your mood changing one second to another.

🍄 Your supernatural abilities end up making Jade fall in love, it's not magic as such... at least not the common kind, it has a resemblance to Sam's voodoo, right?... maybe a combination of dark magic, voodoo and something else? maybe... something diabolical?... Jade doesn't know, but he loves not knowing.

🍄 Although you may not share his love for mushrooms, Jade appreciates that you don't see him as a weirdo, in fact sometimes you accompany him to his terrarium and while he plants and waters his mushrooms you can be having a coffee in your... adorable deer mug... or talking non-stop about how well your broadcast of ''The NRC Radio Show'' went today.

🍄 He definitely declares himself a fan of your musical talent, even if your songs are cheesy or seem without specific meaning, Jade can always notice some hidden detail that you hide in them, he notices that you almost always sing with the purpose of making someone lower their guard with you.

🍄 While Jade loves that side of you, he's also in love with your silly moments, like when your little ears move and he almost wants to bite them or the way you zone out and blink like an adorable little frog, he might Count the times you've refused to talk just because you lost your microphone stick or Floyd hid it but he would always laugh at how shy and irritated you looked trying to stay quiet.

🍄 Although Jade does not usually appear discouraged, he knows that you notice even the slightest change in him and his attitude, so even if it is in a strange way, he always appreciates that you motivate him or even offer him a deal to do something for him.

🍄 Jade wants to know what you think... what you feel... your motivations... everything about you, but he never figures it out and that also makes his more and more interested in you, he will stay by your side as long as you want. to observe you and take care of you even if you don't need it because with your curious way of being you managed to catch this Leech.

Floyd Leech

🏀 Floyd loves you, just as he may find Azul interesting and talented, he finds you as his ideal person.

🏀 Whenever he can, Floyd tries to hug you, you almost always end up leaving him and being hugged by the tall eel with an awkward smile on your face, but it must be said that there is always a chase and Floyd always has fun with it.

🏀 Floyd loves to provoke you, he finds it curious how someone so ''nice'' and to a certain extent ''attractive'' to others can become a real bloodthirsty demon, he loves it.

🏀 Floyd also has a similar opinion about you and Azul, but he really likes to tell everyone that you are 10 times better than Azul, especially when you are not afraid to show yourself as the monster you authentically are.

🏀 Floyd loves to follow you almost everywhere because he always tries to look for you at a time when you are not smiling, unfortunately for him he has not succeeded, even when you sleep you are smiling!

🏀 Like Jade, Floyd is quick to realize your manipulative skills, the times you sing it is to give someone confidence in you and he does not deny that he loves it, because you have hidden intentions and let's remember that he is not the biggest fan of good feelings or the songs of the nerdy little princes of Royal Sword Academy.

🏀 It should be noted that the times you have ''lost'' your microphone have been because of Floyd, don't blame him! He's just curious about what your voice will sound like without that radio effect!

🏀 Although Floyd may see Azul entertained for different reasons, you are the one who sees them entertained, you voluntarily approached the Leech and Azul without any fear fully trusting your abilities and you won, you do things to get things in return whether favors or... souls?... you're not looking for anyone to hurt you like Azul, you're looking to show how scary you can be and that you should never be underestimated so don't be surprised when Floyd (and Jade) proposes to you.

🏀 DEER EARS DEER EARS DEER EARS... YOU HAVE DEER EARS!!!!! X3

🏀 Like his twin, Floyd can't wait to touch your ears, they are so soft and tender that he can't resist and bites them... I think it goes without saying that you made his body go through a campus wall ...Floyd says it was worth it and he has no regrets.

🏀 I have to say that Floyd is a lover of gossip, especially if it's something he can use for his ''business'' with Azul and Jade, so he loves it when you come to the Mostro Lounge VIP room with your characteristic cup of tea or coffee announcing that you have new information for them... obviously you always ask for something in return.

🏀 Definitely Floyd gives you the nickname ''Dolphin-chan'', this is because everything in you, be it your face to the public, supposed personality, tastes or apparent intentions, cover up all the atrocities you can do, how you are capable of intimidating even others your ''superiors'' for the fact that you are totally insensitive and are not afraid of betraying whoever is necessary for your objective.

🏀 Floyd has a lot of sudden mood swings, of course you're always there to make him feel worse and then indirectly comfort him, which is always unexpected, but it works.

🏀 Speaking of your radio show, Floyd only listens to it when you talk about controversies or when you give opinions about RSA, in fact Floyd loves the naturalness with which you make sarcastic or cynical comments as if it were nothing.

🏀 In the end you can say that you won the affection of Floyd, Jade and Azul even with your eccentricities and customs... curious... you can say that you are not going to betray them... obviously just to ''return the favor''. .. sure, keep fooling you stubborn deer.

Nymph's Note:

I'm going to say that I don't know how to feel about this job... In my country there is an outbreak of Dengue and I have been dying in my bed 💀... fortunately I have improved, however before I had planned to publish heartslabyul x MC first! Like Rosie... but because there are five characters and too many I decided to do this one first... I also think my love for the Octavinelle Boys and Alastor's curiosities shows:³

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!

Remember to tune in, end of this broadcast!

Octavinelle Dorm xMC! Like Alastor Done! ⊹ೃ 🌊⋆

Next...???

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marzipanrose · 1 year ago

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My lil fall sawsbuck boy is complete!! Just in time for winter lol

I'm super happy with how his antlers came out

#ball jointed doll #dolls #bjd #centaur bjd #doll chateau #pokemon #sawsbuck

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a-twistedheartslonging · 2 months ago

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Hii omg it's been a minute, but Harpy anon is back with some thoughts on our less talked about boys!

First one I want to point out is Ruggie. Funfact about hyenas is that the females are super aggressive. Making the males be more submissive in turn. In fact the females are so aggressive that the males have to basically tiptoe around the females to court them otherwise they'll be eaten.

Imagine Ruggie realizing he likes a fem-yuu and starts freaking out cause he can't stop worrying that she might kill him if he does anything wrong.

He starts following you around and listening to everything you say. Just so you can pat him on the head and call him a good boy.[and also not eat him]

Second boy I want to talk about today is Silver who doesn't get enough attention imo. I feel like he'd either be a Reindeer or a Buck. Either way he's frolicking through the forest with you on his back and giggling whilst you try to hold on for dear life.

Just like Idia he's got a nice back[or would it be his butt technically?] That you can lay on. He lets you rest there as he takes his daily nap under his favorite tree and all you can hear the entire time are the sounds of his chest breathing in n' out and the birds chirping curious at the napping boy. Sometimes they land on his antlers and watch his face while he sleeps.

If ever the occasion were to come up he would use his antlers to prove he is the superior mate for you. Maybe if Sebek starts getting to close for comfort.

Anyway sorry for how long this is, I just felt like ranting lol. Hope you're having a lovely day/night! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Nice to see you around again.

Even with the Nonhuman AU I doubt male yeens gotta worry about the females hurting them unless they're being super creeps. Still, Rugs is gonna be pretty careful and respectful regardless. Like a few dif beasts his courting would involve some following around along with sniff sniff.

Silver as a deer could work, I've also even been talking to some about Rook being one. It would be interesting to see how they deal with their antlers randomly falling off during class and causing a startle, I wonder if it would even be enough to wake Silver up. With either guy, I for sure want to see their cute hoof feet and hear their weird mating calls.

Seeing ether prance around would kill me.

#ask #asks #twst nonhuman au

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yellowjacketsfashion · 3 months ago

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Wilderness Costume Analysis: Part 2

Misty

Misty wears a colorful jacket under her rawhide cloak and badger(?) shoulder pelt. Plus, like many of the Acolytes she has gloves and leg warmers made out of recycled clothing. As far as I’m aware none of the intact clothing pieces Misty wears have been worn in the Wilderness yet. Though Mari does wear a colorful jacket somewhat similar to the one seen on Misty.

Above is a behind the scenes photo from one of Samantha Hanratty’s costume fittings posted by @schleystyle on Instagram. While it isn’t entirely what Misty ended up wearing in the show, it still features a good look at the cloak and veil.

Speaking of, something Marie Schley has repeatedly talked about with Misty’s costume is the use of the beaver veil. The idea behind it is that it was supposed to be reminiscent of a bridal veil. The veil is tied to a concept of femininity that is then being subverted with the barbarism of the cannibalistic ritual/cult. If I can find my notes on which interview Schley talked about this in I’ll add it below because it was really interesting to hear about.

Something else important about Misty’s outfit is her cracked glasses. To me this is supposed to be a call back to “The Lord of The Flies,” which is a story about a group of young boys who get stranded on an island after a plane crash. Misty’s glasses are specifically reminiscent of the character Piggy’s broken glasses that play a pivotal part in the story.

Something I also think is interesting is that Misty doesn’t seem to have a spot in the group shot. Right, she has some semblance of power by being in charge of the meat but still doesn’t have a seat at the table and is further isolated from the rest of the group. Because of this, I think it will be interesting to see where she falls in line in the hierarchy and whose power/influence she clings to in this next season. I might be wrong but that’s my take on it.

Acolyte

This Acolyte has more discernible layers underneath their fur cloak such as the button up shirt and denim jacket as well as using purple fabric on their mask and gloves.

I am not sure what fur is used for their hood so I am not sure their animal. Though, in the group shot they are featured in the second row from the Antler Queen.

I also think it’s kind of interesting that they’re wearing blues and purples because those are some of Taissa’s most worn colors. That being said, Marie Schley has said the costume department didn’t know who was who so take my observation with a grain of salt.

I’ll talk about the rest of the Acolytes in the next part but let me know if you also want me to talk about the Antler Queen as well!

#yellowjackets #fashion #costume #wilderness acolytes #misty quigley

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hypnoneghoul · 8 months ago

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may i please request a cumulus and mountain? i dont see enough of them.

(also love your writing mwah 💋 /p)

630 words, puppy play, teeny tiny bit of objectification blink and you'll miss it, cumulus calls herself mommy once

“What was that, baby?” Cumulus cooed, running her fingers through Mountain’s sweat-tangled hair. He was settled on his knees between her own as she was busy with something on her phone, one hand on it and the other on the earth ghoul. Delicate chain of a leash loosely wrapped around her wrist.

He’s been down there for a while, cock rock hard and leaking and his brain turned off. Cumulus told him to wait so wait he would, but it didn’t mean he’d be quite alright with that. Mountain whined loudly again and batted his eyelashes up at Cumulus, licking his lips.

“You want something, pup?” she asked and he nodded so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. “And what would that be, hm?”

The problem was there were no words in Mountain’s fuzzy head. He opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out and nuzzled sweetly against the soft skin of Cumulus’ thigh, as close to the apex of her legs as he’d dare.

“Oh, you want a treat. Is that right, pup? Want to taste me?” The earth ghoul shuddered and nodded again with another whimper falling out of his mouth. “Well, I suppose you’ve been good for me today. You deserved it.”

Mountain could hear his own tail thumping against the floor repetitively as he brought up his hands and pawed desperately at the air ghoulette’s legs, too blissed out to be able to get her shorts down on his own.

“Oh, I don’t have to do that,” Cumulus laughed. “You’re a smart puppy, you’ll get there.”

Mountain frowned and whined at the lack of help. He leaned in to the strings of the ghoulette’s shorts and took them into his mouth, starting to chew aggressively as if they offended him. “Hey, Mountain, no! Bad puppy, no! No chewing!”

The earth ghoul recoiled with another sad whimper at that, feeling desperate and helpless. He slumped back on the floor and stared at Cumulus with big, pitiful eyes.

“Don’t you look at me like that,” the air ghoulette sighed. “You know I can’t say no to you like that, evil little thing. You’re too cute for your own good.”

She reached out again to scratch behind his horn as she put her phone down and used her free hand to move the crotch of her shorts to the side. She spread her legs some more before grabbing Mountain’s antler and pulling him in. “Here, have your treat.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement, immediately diving in with a happy chirp on his lips. Cumulus was already wet and soon enough his drool made her cunt truly dripping and there wasn’t enough brain in Mountain to do anything more than lick at her sloppily. After all it was his treat and he just wanted to feast, making Cumulus cum wasn’t exactly his priority in such a state.

She would cum, of course, Mountain all desperate and needy for her turned her on impossibly. It was adorable and a little fun how he went on about the act—just shoving his face in between her legs and licking all over.

“Yes, that’s it. That’s it, good boy– oh, yes, pup. Lick away.” She tangled her fingers in his long amber hair and scratched at his scalp some more. It was for his enjoyment, but her motives were a bit impure–

“Oh,” she moaned loudly when her ministrations made Mountain kick up a loud, rumbly purr, that in turn made him whole vibrate. Especially his mouth. “Yes, pup, that’s good. My lovely little vibe, aren’t you?”

He chirped at the praise. Cumulus was getting close and so she decided to give Mountain some more incentive. “Make mommy cum and I’ll let you get off on my tits.”

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #cumulus ghoulette

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thetomorrowshow · 6 months ago

Text

when to hold 'em

ur honor i love the flower husbands

The crown of antlers is in his hands.

He holds it, turns it, examines every angle.

Then places it on his head.

Scott looks up, across the silent plateau, to the darkness that gathers on the other side.

Sìín kuvi ndakuatura nu Ndíoxī.

"You've got this!" a little boy shouts, pumping one fist in the air.

Scott rolls his eyes over to Jimmy. "I thought you said this would be private?" he comments archly.

Jimmy shrugs, looking a little sheepish. "Word gets out. Especially to kids."

"Right. And since you and I were the only ones who knew about this, the children found out through. . . ?"

"I have no idea."

There are six or seven children sitting or standing in the long grass of the field, some tens of meters away. Jimmy waves to them. All but one wave back.

Scott pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't want anyone getting hurt, Jimmy," he bites out.

"You won't hurt anyone," Jimmy insists. "They're far enough away that they aren't even an issue. They just want to see some magic!"

That's the problem.

Scott's curse isn't a party trick. It isn't something to be gawked at and applauded by children. It's a curse, barely controlled, and a very dangerous one at that.

And it isn't just that he doesn't want them getting hurt. That's most of it, of course, but. . . .

Scott really doesn't want an audience. He doesn't want people to see him fail.

(Last time he failed, he was surrounded—by elves and enemies alike.)

Something of his thoughts must show on his face, because Jimmy just makes a sound kind of like a sigh and squeezes his hand.

"You're all right," he says quietly. "I'm not leaving. You can control it when I'm here, right?"

"Control is a strong word," mutters Scott. It implies that he can do a lot more than keep an imaginary door shut.

Not to mention, he hasn't been able to let go of Jimmy. They've learned over the past couple of days that when they separate, Scott loses whatever hold he has. It had been unpleasant that first morning, when Scott woke late to find that Jimmy had already gotten back to work, leaving him coated in frost and ice weighing down the tent.

He really has no control if the magic is untamed without the tamer's touch. In all fairness, Jimmy has more control over the magic than Scott does.

But Jimmy just smiles (so brightly that Scott can't help but reluctantly smile back) and points to a patch of wildflowers a good fifty feet away from them.

"Shoot ice at that," he instructs, and Scott, with another glance at the children and more than a bit of trepidation, raises his hand toward the flowers.

He pushes, releasing a little bit of his hold on the magic, letting it conduct out through his arm, pulsing and freezing and—

Frost and ice shoot from his fingertips in a barrage (and the force has him stumbling back a step), about half of it hitting the flowers and the other half falling around them, with some icicles stabbing into the ground a good several feet away.

Scott quickly reasserts his hold on the magic and pulls his arm close to himself, pressing his side into Jimmy.

It's terrifying, using this magic. This magic that, just a few days past, had been using him.

There's no way of knowing just how much damage he's capable of. Based on what he did at the town, Scott thinks he could practically level a village.

It isn't nice, having that much power.

"Whoa!" a young boy screams, and all the other children join in the excitement, chattering about the magic.

"Nice one!" Jimmy says, dragging Scott over to look, sword bouncing on his back.

The flowers are shredded, heads torn from stems and petals torn from heads. A bit of grass is pulled up in a streak, dirt stark against the yellow stalks of grass. Frost coats the area, shards of ice stabbing into the ground.

Scott feels a little sick, looking at it.

That could have hit a person.

If he hadn't figured out that touching Jimmy gave him a measure of control, he could have killed anyone in the camp.

Jimmy's already tugging him back, probably wanting to practice again. He wants Scott to get good at his aim, and Scott isn't sure if it's so he feels more safe with himself, or so he can be more useful in attacks.

"I'm just a weapon," he says offhandedly. Bit of a fall from king of the elves.

"Come on, now," Jimmy says consolingly. "You're a beautiful weapon."

Scott snorts. "Try that one again."

"My favorite weapon?"

"If I could let go of your hand, I would."

Jimmy grins. "What I'm hearing is I can be as obnoxious as I want, and you can't do anything."

"Oh, you—"

Their flirting is cut off as a child crosses the invisible boundary, skipping up toward them.

"Stay back there," Jimmy commands, voice ringing with sudden authority, stepping forward with an arm out.

Scott glances at him, more to make sure that it's still his Jimmy there than anything else. He forgets, sometimes, that Jimmy actually has power. Not just the power of a ruler, either—some sort of unknown, hidden power had to have played a part in his survival, and his ability to heal others. Scott's seen him heal so many of the survivors that they just rescued, just by pressing a hand to their wounds. Jimmy, somehow, is a living, walking, healing miracle.

As much as they're teasing each other today, Scott can't help but feel a little hollow inside. It's still so hard to be here, to hold the hand of his once-dead betrothed.

Not that he has any other option.

Not that he doesn't want to.

The child halts immediately, waits for Jimmy and Scott to come toward her.

She's a little older than the other children, and one that Scott recognizes—from when, he doesn't know—, her scales like freckles spattered across her cheeks and nose.

"Codfather!" she says, standing at attention. "We've found something."

"I'm honestly just surprised it made it all the way down here," Scott muses, turning the satchel over in his hands. Below it, on the table in Jimmy's planning tent, lies the crown of antlers and a thin grey book, instantly recognizable as the one he had forgotten to give Lizzie.

"That would be the enchantments," Jimmy says, leaning on Scott's shoulder. When Scott turns his head to raise an eyebrow at him, he elaborates.

"Well, look, see the way the stag kind of shimmers? That's a protection kind of enchantment, to keep the bag from tearing. And the cod is a homebound enchantment—wherever you are, it'll find you."

Scott blinks.

How on earth would he be able to tell that just by looking at it?

"Are you making things up?" he asks dubiously.

Jimmy frowns. "What? No. My people showed me every step of the process when they were making this. We had a promising young Cod—Everarda—she was going to Gem's Academy, and she enchanted the thread. And Theo attached the strap—I think Jesse did part of the bag itself, and—"

"And the crown," Scott murmurs, picking it up with more reverence than he's shown it in some time.

It still shines, despite traveling down river for weeks and ending up buried in the mud. Its glow, perhaps, is more due to its divinity than any amount of polish.

How had it found him here?

Aeor, no doubt.

Scott's been kind of ignoring his god, as of late. Sure, he's said a couple of prayers here and there—some of them sobbing, silent prayers in his frozen world, others rote repetition and dull words—but he hasn't exactly been the most faithful of chosen ones.

It isn't that he doesn't respect Aeor. He still worships his god. It's just . . . easier, he supposes, to pretend as if this is all there is. His story ends here, and he dwindles away.

Yet every night, he tosses and turns, struck by recurring dreams. Dreams that have an oddly golden quality, dreams in which he has the crown of antlers and is alone against Xornoth.

Dreams in which he thinks in a tongue that is unrecognizable to him.

He's been ignoring the dreams, hoping them to be nothing—and in so doing, he's been ignoring hints from his god.

The fact that the crown is here again, one of the artifacts necessary to defeat Xornoth—and he doesn't think he really needs the boots anymore—feels like a bit more than a hint.

His stomach swoops unpleasantly. If Aeor's sending him messages of this magnitude, he clearly wants Scott to get going.

It's not like Scott can take on Xornoth with nothing changing. Xornoth almost killed him last time. He still has no idea what he's doing. Not to mention, Xornoth is surely even more powerful by this point, surrounded by soldiers and Rivendell's magic and who knows what else. There's no chance of survival.

Yet Aeor is pushing him. Aeor is telling him to go up against his brother another time and fail. Aeor is sending him to his doom.

And Scott's going to do it.

He doesn't want to. He wants to stay here, with Jimmy, in this little temporary civilization forever. He wants to forget about the world outside, forget that everything will likely collapse in a matter of months.

He doesn't want to die.

He doesn't want to fail again.

But he has been feeling like he's living on borrowed time.

And he can rub his thumb along the light scars on Jimmy's knuckles and wonder if he feels the same.

"What's this?" Jimmy asks, drawing Scott from his morbid spiraling by picking up the grey book.

"I—I don't know," Scott says, still reeling from his moment of revelation. "Something Oceanic, I think. I meant to give it to Lizzie."

He's going to die. He's being sent to his death like a lamb to the slaughter.

The long hours spent in Gem's secret library seem like a lifetime ago—a time when devastation was fresh, when Jimmy was dead yet the world seemed more hopeful than it does now. He barely recalls how they found the book in the first place.

"And it stayed in your bag the whole time," Jimmy muses, turning it this way and that. "What's it about?"

"I don't know, I couldn't read it."

"Hm." Jimmy flips the book open to the first page, while Scott gently sets the crown back down and turns to the young teen who had found the items.

"And there was nothing else there?" he questions.

She shakes her head. "Nothing that I saw, Lord Smajor. I can show you the place, if you like."

It's unlikely that the boots would have made it there. It's not like they had some sort of tracking spell, after all. It's more likely Lizzie found them, washed up on one of her islands.

"That won't be necessary," he tells the girl. "If anyone finds magical boots that burn to the touch, however, find me."

She nods, takes a few cautious steps back. Scott waits expectantly for Jimmy to dismiss her, but when he doesn't, she just shrugs and bounds off.

Scott looks back to Jimmy, who has stepped uncomfortably far away, the fingers of his right hand just brushing Scott's waist. Scott steps more into reach, peeks over at the book that Jimmy is so intently studying.

It looks much the same as he remembers, if a bit more wet. Strange, faded blue letters, made large with thick strokes. Not much of a conceivable pattern to split up the words (unless it's a character based language?), or even a way to tell if it's written from right to left or not.

But Jimmy is scrutinizing this old little book, mouth moving slightly as his eyes slowly travel across the page.

"Can you read it?" Scott asks incredulously. Jimmy can barely read Common, how on Aeor's great earth is he reading whatever this is?

"I—I think so?" Jimmy says, looking up from the book. "I've never seen this language before. At least, not that I can remember."

Right. Amnesia.

"I think I used to be able to write in this," continues Jimmy, voice hushed as his eyes return to the book. "That's crazy. How old is this?"

"Very," Scott says. Then, still confused, "Can amnesia make it so that you forget an entire language?"

Jimmy doesn't answer. Instead, he points a shaking finger at a point on the page, letting go of Scott (who presses his arm to Jimmy's, maintaining their vital contact) to do so.

What's so exciting about that part? Jimmy's suddenly gone white as mountain's snow, eyes watering as if he's about to cry. What could possibly bring him to tears so quickly? Is this a book of prophecies? Is Jimmy reading about the doubtless end that awaits them?

But Jimmy, voice weak, doesn't say anything like that. Instead, he says, looking over at Scott, "This . . . this is about me."

"It's a journal, of some kind," Jimmy explains, later, sitting on the grass in his tent, a plate (which was really more of a carefully sanded piece of wood) of berries and two bowls of thin soup between them. "I think Lizzie wrote it."

Scott frowns. "Lizzie? Are you sure?"

That just can't be possible. Gem's library had been sealed for likely hundreds of years. Jimmy's only—well, he only showed up ten years ago, and Lizzie—Lizzie's been around for a while, but fish hybrids don't live for longer than the average human lifespan.

Right? Lizzie's been. . . .

"Lizzie joined the House Blossom Alliance over twenty years ago," Scott says aloud. He was there when she showed up to her first meeting, he remembers that. She'd seemed young, small, hair falling into her face, clearly dressed in her nicest of clothing—which was almost meager compared to the glory of some of the other empires.

Still, she had commanded the respect of all of them, speaking boldly and making firm promises. Scott remembers being begrudgingly impressed, though not quite as much as the boy Mezelean Prince, who repeatedly urged his father (in a voice a bit too loud to be a whisper) to arrange an alliance.

If Lizzie had only inherited her kingdom at that age, then there was no way she had been able to write whatever that book was. Neither she nor Jimmy would even be born for centuries.

"Lizzie joined then . . . and none of us really knew much about the Ocean Kingdom, but we'd seen their buildings begin to rise above the water and she seemed legitimate. . . . And then you showed up about a decade later and started reaching out to empires, didn't you?"

"Why are you reciting history to me?"

Scott snorts. "This is barely history, more of a contemporary review," he tells Jimmy, adjusting so that Jimmy's heel isn't digging into his thigh. They've contorted themselves a bit oddly, perhaps, one of Jimmy's legs reaching around their dinner to keep physical contact with Scott, but there's only so long that they can hold hands in a day.

"I just don't understand how the books came to be in Gem's hidden library."

"Maybe it wasn't all that hidden?" Jimmy suggests. "Maybe Lizzie found it and put these books in."

"Are you sure Lizzie wrote it?"

"Yeah, it's her handwriting."

"That is definitely not her handwriting," Scott says, pointing to the open book beside Jimmy. "That isn't anyone's handwriting. That's an ancient Oceanic script that nobody remembers."

"I remember it," Jimmy says, popping a berry into his mouth.

"Yes, but you don't really, right? You can read it, and write it, but you don't know how you know it or where you learned it. How do you know it even talks about you?"

"Lizzie's writing to me in parts of it."

"How do you know it's you? And not someone else named Jimmy?"

Jimmy frowns. "It's not exactly my name, you know. It's a word that means me. Nobody else would have that."

It does not make sense.

None of this makes any sense.

"Sounds inefficient for a language," Scott murmurs absently, ignoring the pang in his chest as he remembers that Jimmy died and now is back so what does sense even matter?

"Right, it changed to use names as the Ocean Kingdom grew. Barely anybody even knew this form of it by the time. . . ."

Jimmy trails off, eyes unfocusing with a concerning suddenness. His lips move ever so slightly, forming unsaid words.

"Jimmy?" tries Scott, reaching over to tap on his knee. Jimmy blinks, eyes refocusing on Scott.

"Sorry, what was I saying?" he asks, brows furrowed.

And if that isn't strange, Scott doesn't know what is.

"Something about the language developing over time?" Scott prompts.

Jimmy bites his lip, looks askance. "I don't . . . I don't know. I don't remember. I don't. . . ."

He doesn't look like he's going to cry, exactly, but he certainly looks troubled, and his eyes catch on the book.

"None of it makes sense," he says quietly, and Scott could not agree more. "Lizzie wrote that. I know she wrote that. I don't know how. And it's . . . I need to talk to her."

"It's from before you lost your memory, isn't it?" Scott asks after a moment. He isn't sure how far he can push this, but he feels a sense of idle curiosity. What does the book say? Why does it worry Jimmy? How did it get in the Crystal Cliffs secret library, unrecorded and forgotten?

Jimmy nods. "It's gonna eat at me, Scott," he says, already sounding tired. "Lizzie's writing about all sorts of things that I don't remember. They just don't make sense. I need to talk to her, figure out if she remembers any of this."

"You're saying we need to go to the Ocean Kingdom."

Again, Jimmy nods. "Yep. At some point." He looks away, sighs, briefly looking far too old yet much too young to be leading a camp of refugees, let alone a kingdom.

Jimmy's always had moments like that, when his bearing makes it obvious to Scott that Jimmy stumbled into this role ten years ago and gave it his all, despite his lack of experience.

He doesn't deserve this—war, death, pain.

Jimmy doesn't deserve any of this.

But Jimmy doesn't dwell, even if Scott does. Instead, he looks back up to meet Scott's eyes, lips quirked in a smile. "What about you? What's with the crown?"

Right. The crown.

Scott swallows.

He and Jimmy have talked a little. Just enough to air out any pressing concerns, for Scott to realize that his conflicting feelings were not unwarranted but unneeded, and for Jimmy to accept that Scott is struggling and help him feel assured of his love as often as he can.

But they haven't talked much, despite literally never leaving one another's side. They've been so busy keeping the camp running and planning attacks and defenses and experimenting with Scott's curse that they haven't been able to sit down and talk, like they're doing now.

Does Scott tell him what it means?

Does Scott tell him that by sending the crown, Aeor intends for Scott to go up against Xornoth again, just to fail as he already has? Does he tell Jimmy that this little respite was nice, but it can't last forever?

Maybe he can put it off. Maybe he can stay with Jimmy just a little bit longer, in the relative peace of the camp.

It's selfish. Scott ought to at least try to fight Xornoth right now, if only for the elves in captivity.

But Scott's kind of tired of trying to save the world. Let someone else do it, for a change.

He forces a smile, fiddles with a berry between his fingers. "It's just a Rivendell treasure. You needn't worry about it."

He'll stay, Scott decides, as Jimmy gives him a soft, loving smile. He'll stay as long as he can.

Which isn't very long.

As it turns out, their little frozen-town trick from the week before didn't go over well with Mythland, and it's only the next morning that a woman comes running to the planning tent, declaring that she'd seen three unfamiliar men searching for the camp while she was on patrol. That means that Mythland knows roundabouts where the first camp is (the newly-formed second is off to the northeast, and as far as they know, hasn't been discovered), and the probability of attack is high.

It's time to move, then. Scott spends all morning running from place to place with Jimmy, helping children and disabled and those unwilling to fight pack up and prepare to move to the second camp, from whence a proper plan will be formed.

It isn't terribly easy to mobilize a camp of hundreds of people in only one day. Many of them, in the short month or so that they've been here, have settled in as if it were their home. Some of the families have collected possessions, strangely enough—Scott watches an elderly man argue with Jimmy for almost ten minutes in some strange Oceanic dialect over not wanting to part with his chair. Jimmy responds patiently, but Scott can feel his body tense more and more as he responds in the dolphin-like clicks and whistles of the dialect.

Finally, Jimmy pats the man on the shoulder and says something in a low voice to him, then moves on.

"What'd you say?" asks Scott, hanging on to Jimmy's arm as they walk away, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of hurried packing.

"I told him he can leave the chair or die in it, I don't care," Jimmy says breezily, and Scott almost laughs.

"One of these days you need to learn diplomacy."

"I said I'd go find his husband, he can be diplomatic."

It takes an hour to find him, however, because at every turn, Jimmy is pulled aside and asked a question, called over for help, or stopped to listen to some sort of plan or explanation. The camp is quickly emptying, guides hurrying back and forth between the camps to lead more people to the safer location.

"I hope we aren't being watched," Scott says offhandedly, watching a group of a dozen or so Cod head out, laden with makeshift packs. "Then they'd find the location of the other camp, too."

Jimmy doesn't reply, just points beyond the treeline, out toward the outskirts of their massive camp. There, past the chaos of destroying shelters and striking tents, Scott sees several people in light armor, each carrying a weapon, making circles around the camp.

"Patrol is doubled," Jimmy says shortly. "All the way down to Camp Two."

"How many people are in Camp Two?"

"We have . . . what, two hundred joining them?" Jimmy guesses, readjusting the sword strapped to his back. "So they'll be up to around five hundred. It'll drop, though, as they send us fighters tomorrow."

They're leaving tomorrow, too. Everyone who is left in the camp tomorrow at noon (the able fighters, that is) will be marching out. The plan is to head out toward the Ocean Kingdom, add their little force of four hundred to Lizzie's armies, and from there plan with Lizzie a way to try and defeat Xornoth.

Scott should feel better about it. He'd felt for so long that Jimmy's small goals were pointless, after all.

But he knows now that it's hopeless to try and sway this war. Scott feels like there's a rain cloud looming over their heads, ready to strike down with lightning and set the camp ablaze. Death surely lurks just beyond their line of sight.

There's no way to defeat Xornoth. His power will only grow, the God of Darkness fed by the fear and torture he brings to the land.

Maybe Aeor wants Scott to take a shot at it just so that he can go to the afterlife with full honor. Elvish history and religious lore is fairly vague on anything other than the separation of the afterlife, but it's always had a sense of peace and happiness. Maybe Aeor knows that Scott is bound to die, and wants to hurry it along so that he can get some peace for once.

For a god that sends him frustrating hints all the time, he's really outdone himself with this one.

He's going to die. Aeor is sending him to his death.

Jimmy notices something's wrong, somehow. Jimmy, who never notices anything, even when he's not busy with mobilizing an entire camp over the space of a day and a half, notices that something is wrong, which means that Scott isn't hiding his thoughts very well.

He used to be so much better at this. Back before he met Jimmy.

But Jimmy frowns at some point during the day, rubs his thumb over Scott's knuckles, and asks how he's doing.

And when Scott asks why Jimmy would even be concerned, Jimmy points out his wings and how stiff they are, and the way his fingers are repeatedly tapping against his side, and the anxious frown on his lips, and asks if he's having sensory overload.

No, he's just thinking about his own imminent death. Nothing to worry about there.

He wants Jimmy to live. He wants Jimmy to gather his little force and leave the land of the Empires, go somewhere without demons and death, somewhere his people can rebuild.

He doesn't want Jimmy to be captured and subjected to torture, or killed, or whatever evil is in mind for him.

He wants Jimmy to be happy.

If it comes to it, Scott decides right then and there, he'll split off from the group. He'll leave a note, telling Jimmy to get out when it all goes wrong, and fly to Rivendell alone, ready to confront his demon brother once and for all.

And then he'll die.

Right.

He's going to die.

They set out at noon the next day, Scott's satchel uncomfortably heavy with the weight of both the crown and general travel supplies—some food, first aid, and a bowl and spoon. Jimmy hikes beside him at the front of the pack, the mysterious runes carved into the old leather of the hilt of his sword sparkling in the sun.

If Scott had been in charge of this expedition to the Ocean Kingdom, he would have set out at dusk rather than noon, the hot sun beating down on their backs. He barely gets half an hour into the march before shrugging off his coat and draping it over his head, sweat dripping into his eyes.

Elves aren't made for heat, not noonday, marching-through-tall-prairie-grass, not-a-cloud-in-the-sky kind of heat. It's hot, but worse than that it's humid, so Scott has to deal with not only the burning sun but also the thick air that threatens to choke him. He stops frequently to take a sip from the waterskin bumping against his hip, to wipe the sweat from his brow, to pray for clouds, and he can only hope that his skin isn't burning beyond recognition.

At least last time he trekked through the plains, he was covered in ice. Now he's overheating, out of breath, and just generally exhausted.

And they haven't even been walking for a full day.

His wings itch to take flight, glide through the air and feel the wind on his face, make it to the Ocean Kingdom in under an hour instead of the several day journey that the force has embarked on.

They're walking the whole way, despite the fact that the nearby river would be a much faster way to travel for Cod. Jimmy says that the river is being watched intently, and that four hundred rebels is a little conspicuous. They'll be expected to take the river route, not go around.

And Scott also suspects that Jimmy doesn't want to leave anyone behind. Not all of the rebels are native Cod, and not all are capable of breathing underwater—like him, for example.

Not that Jimmy would change the plans and safety of his entire camp for just Scott.

They walk all afternoon in even warmer weather (and it can't really be that warm, because all of the Cod are doing fine, but Scott is really just not suited for this), and they're about to press onward after a blessed break for supper when one of the scouts sent on ahead comes running back, a little dot on the rolling yellow-green plains ahead that gradually becomes larger.

When they arrive, huffing and puffing, green in the face, they salute Jimmy and bow a little to Scott, accepting a drink of water.

"There's a small Mythland camp up ahead," they manage after a moment to catch their breath, sweeping their sweaty brown bangs out of their eyes. "An expedition or scouting group, probably. Fifty soldiers at most."

"We stop here to rest," Jimmy decides immediately, without waiting to consult the two Cod that he's chosen to be his seconds-in-command. "We'll continue in a couple of hours. Can you lead me to the camp?"

The young Cod nods, and before Scott knows it, they're guiding him and Jimmy away, a group of five of the stealthiest Cod accompanying them.

Scott doesn't really think it's a good idea to go spying—not when both he and Jimmy are rather high-profile, and letting go of Jimmy could have disastrous consequences making it impossible to split up—but who is he to make the rules around here?

And maybe he just doesn't want to go because his legs and back ache from the journey thus far, and his excessive clothing is all stuck to him with his own sweat.

Or maybe he doesn't want to go because he's going to die in a matter of days and he wants to spend as much time talking to Jimmy as possible instead of silent surveillance.

But as dusk falls and the world darkens, Scott finds himself lying on his belly at the peak of a small, ridge-like hill, peering down at a small camp of Mythland soldiers.

There's probably fifty men or so, most of whom are preparing or eating an evening meal between the six rows of tents. None of them are in armor, milling around the two campfires on either end of the camp, over each of which is a pot of something cooking (probably a stew).

"Fire is good," Jimmy murmurs. "It'll throw off their vision. We can probably get pretty close."

He points to a tent on the edge of the second row away from them, a bit bigger than the others, which two men are currently exiting. “I bet the man in charge is there. I want to know what his plans are.”

"Can we risk it?" Scott whispers back, tearing his eyes away from the camp to focus on Jimmy's shadowed face, two bright streaks across his vision from the light of the fires. "If we get caught, the whole operation is done for."

Jimmy clicks his tongue, reaffirms his grip on Scott's hand. "If we get caught, you fly us out of there, okay?"

"What? Jimmy, I haven't flown in weeks—my wings were broken, I don't even know if they'll support my weight, let alone—"

"Then we won't get caught," Jimmy says simply.

Right. Because that's the way that works.

Still, Scott only sighs and nods, and after a few long moments of silent communication with the other five rebels, Jimmy and Scott crawl back down the hill, sliding back on hands and knees until they're far enough back that they can stand fully.

They wait there, silent, until dark has fully fallen and the air cools, various nighttime critters hopping out of their hiding places to make their voices heard. Scott leaps back in surprise when a field mouse crawls across his foot, briefly losing contact with Jimmy and sending an icicle straight through the mouse, skewering it to the ground.

Jimmy sucks his breath in between his teeth. Scott cringes, gripping Jimmy's bicep and feeling his control acclimate again.

He hates this. He hates not being in control. He hates being cursed.

"Just . . . try not to do that again?" Jimmy says after a moment.

Scott nods wordlessly.

They don't say anything after that, and soon enough they can't really see anything beyond a foot ahead of them, and Jimmy begins to lead the way around the curve of the hill.

It isn't too difficult to move through the tall grass quietly, crouched over to hide in it, but Scott finds himself gritting his teeth every time Jimmy stumbles over a stalk or tramples some grass. Can't he just be silent? Scott has massive wings behind him and he isn't getting caught on anything, it can't be that hard.

He has to remind himself every couple of steps that different people have different skills. Elves have light feet and are better at sneaking than most, after all. It isn't Jimmy's fault that he's a flat-footed Cod.

"Left," Jimmy breathes in his ear, and Scott freezes. "There's someone on watch."

Scott looks around, trying to get his eyes to acclimate to the darkness. The firelight is throwing off his heightened vision (just as Jimmy had predicted it would for the enemy) , but he can maybe see a figure standing out in the grass to their right.

Now that he knows the man is there, if he pays attention he can hear him. He can hear the slight wheeze that accompanies each breath, the almost-silent rustle of clothing.

They shift left, Scott keeping an eye on the shadowy figure, making sure he doesn't head this way.

But as they move, Scott's still-alert ears pick up another sound, distant and almost indistinct.

Ba-thump. . . . Ba-thump. . . . Ba-thump. . . .

It might be his imagination, but it seems to be growing louder.

"Do you hear something?" Scott ventures to whisper, glancing around to make sure the guard doesn't hear him. Jimmy shrugs.

"No. What is it?"

He doesn't see anything. But he can still hear the rhythmic thudding, ever so slightly louder. Maybe it's his heartbeat?

Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.

Jimmy continues moving, bent over almost double, masked by the tall grass. Scott follows, their fingers linked and connecting them, swallowing back his bad feeling.

It sounds like a drum. A beating drum coming closer and closer.

Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump—

"Are you—" Scott starts, before something clicks in his memory and he knows exactly what the sound is.

Uh-oh.

Ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump—

Scott drags Jimmy back by his tunic, pulling him down on his back in the grass, the sword in its scabbard jostling against Scott's arm (flattened under Jimmy as they both lie supine on the ground). Scott presses his free hand to Jimmy's mouth, silencing the question about to burst from his lips.

Just in time, as a horse and rider come barreling through, barely two meters away from them, hooves thudding against the grass and saddlebags clanking. The horse gallops across the field to the camp, which is still far enough away that they can't hear anything more than the general bustle of a camp getting ready for bed.

Scott carefully sits back up once he's sure the danger has passed (and Jimmy does too, with considerably more noise), watches as the rider dismounts, tying the horse's reins to the post that's been set up at the edge of camp, next to the pack ponies that are lazily munching on the grass.

"He looks important," Jimmy whispers.

He does. The rider is wearing the official white surcoat of Mythland, a polished leather satchel strapped across his chest. He doesn't even unsaddle his horse, just continues on into the camp, stride slightly bowlegged.

Neither of them even have to say anything. Both Jimmy and Scott just move forward in sync, zigzagging from left to right, slower and slower the closer they get to the camp as the grass grows shorter, until they find themselves right behind the tent that the rider entered, the larger one that is luckily off to the side rather than in the center.

It's dangerous. There's a tent behind them a little ways, and others in their line of sight—made especially risky by the firelight emanating from one of the campfires, only a row away from them.

Still, nobody seems to be wandering about over here, and Scott trusts that either he'll hear them coming or Aeor will protect them.

Now, though, he needs to focus.

"Can you hear anything?" whispers Jimmy. Scott shushes him near silently, presses his ear up against the canvas. Jimmy does the same, his bad ear out toward the camp.

A couple of indistinguishable murmurings—pleasantries, if Scott had to guess—then the most obnoxious slurping Scott has ever heard—

"I don't believe I understand," a man's voice says, gruff and low, muffled through the tent wall. "The king wants us to abandon our course?"

"For the time being," a younger voice—the rider, Scott guesses—says.

"But we just sent our report. We've found the rebel camp. We need to attack before they move. I was expecting two thousand soldiers, not a messenger telling me to head to the coast."

"Everyone is being sent to the coast," the rider responds. "The rebel camp will still be here later."

"Or they'll all go hide in their little badger-holes. We could lose the Codlands if they get bold."

A chuckle. "It wouldn't take much to re-conquer them, I assure you. Especially without their ruler."

Scott squeezes Jimmy's hand. Jimmy squeezes back.

"I don't know," the first man says. "Something strange is going on with those rebels. Did you hear about Medokrill?"

"I don't bother myself with the names of their primitive villages."

"Froze. Overnight. Three men got frostbite."

"The weather of this place does not—"

"And in the morning, most of the Cod had vanished." The squeaking of a chair, another horrid slurp. "Now, I don't like that sort of coincidence. The town freezes—in August, mind—and that same night, the rebels strike and sneak everyone out of there. And only Medokrill froze. Even the prairie around it was untouched."

"What do you want me to do about it?" the rider asks after a moment. The other man chuckles.

"Keep it quiet, ideally. I don't know who or what has that kind of power, but I'm thinking the blame lies with those fairies. They might not be so neutral, after all.”

“I'm sure His Majesty would find that quite informative.”

“Remember that we don't want to scare our men, or give the Cod hope. Keep it quiet. But otherwise, you could get me my men so I can quash this rebellion."

The rider clicks his tongue. "The command is coming straight from His Majesty. Everyone is going to the coast for an attack."

"What could be so important—"

"The Ocean Queen is gone," the rider says.

Jimmy stiffens beside Scott.

"She'll be arriving in Rivendell early tomorrow morning. The King intends to . . . delay her return, if you take my meaning. We attack while she's gone. By the time the day ends, we should have the upper hand and the fish will surrender within the week."

"Hm." The other man goes silent for a long moment. "I don't know how I feel about that. Tomorrow?"

"You're the last group to know, unfortunately. You should make it to the river in under an hour, and from there it will be several days' march to the coast itself. With any luck, the fighting will be done before you even arrive."

A long, drawn-out sigh. "And I don't suppose my little espionage group was small enough to escape the King's attention?"

"Every man, General. This could be the end of the war."

"Right. Well, it'll be morning before I can get my men moving. That wouldn't be too much of an issue, would it?"

"I suppose I might have stopped for the night before reaching your camp. Officially, I arrived tomorrow morning."

"Sure. And none of that stuff about the freeze leaves this tent, all right?"

"And you never heard a thing about the Ocean Queen's permanent little trip."

Another slurp that sets Scott's teeth on edge.

"Agreed. Have you been to the Capital lately?"

"Not in several weeks. Why?"

"Just wondering how the new market law is going."

"Ah. Well, I can tell you. . . ."

Jimmy tugs, lightly, on Scott's sleeve, and after a moment longer of listening to make sure they don't return to the earlier topic, Scott allows himself to be pulled.

They sneak back through the grass, not stopped by the sight of any sentry, off toward their vantage hill, around the side of it and to the back, where they find the other five rebels that they'd brought with them sitting cross-legged, conversing in whispers and pulling apart stalks of grass.

"Back to camp," Jimmy says shortly when they look up, and walks straight past them, pulling Scott with him.

Without a word, they follow him, stealing off in the direction of their resting soldiers, several hills away.

"What are we—" Scott whispers, but Jimmy shakes his head.

"Later."

Later.

How much later?

This is kind of important news, in Scott's opinion!

If Sausage is concentrating all his forces on the Ocean Kingdom because Lizzie's going to be in Rivendell for some reason, their whole mission is for nothing. They won't be able to strengthen her armies if they can't reach the ocean, but they can't go back—soon they'll be closed in, Mythland having conquered the Ocean Kingdom, so maybe they can flee to the Overgrown—but the general already suspects that the Overgrown is aiding them, and joining their ranks would only lead to an invasion—

"Who's there?" a guard calls, peering out into the darkness.

"It's us, Lanale," Jimmy says, and Scott stops to survey their rebel force.

It's too small. It's absolutely tiny. There's approximately four hundred of them, some as young as fourteen, ready to fight to try and free their country.

And that captain had just casually ordered two thousand soldiers to entirely wipe out their little force.

There's nothing they can do to help Lizzie against all of Mythland's armies. They won't even make a difference. They surely can't join the Overgrown, as it would lead to an attack. They can't stay here, not with Mythlanders combing the prairies for them.

He has no idea what Jimmy intends to do. He can't see any way out.

Yet Jimmy moves with purpose, and Scotr walks with him, picking through sleeping rebels, until Jimmy finds the woman he wants and shakes her awake.

She stretches, stands slowly, pushes her hair back. "Codfather," she yawns, clearly not-quite awake. "What do you need?"

"You're a good leader, Millie," Jimmy says, skipping pleasantries. "I need you to be in charge while I'm gone."

Millie blinks. "Gone? Gone where? What's happening?"

"I'm putting you and Emilio in charge," Jimmy explains, rather impatiently. "There's been a change in plans. You need to split up. You take most of the fighters over the river to the Overgrown, all right? Volunteer to join Katherine's army. Emilio needs to take fifty men and go back to Camp Two. Emilio will gather everyone who is able, and lead them to the Overgrown. Got it? Everyone is going to House Blossom."

"I—what?"

"Jimmy—" Scott starts—what is he talking about? That will only make things worse, and where will Jimmy be?—but Jimmy doesn't stop.

"Scott and I are leaving right now to Rivendell," he says firmly. "Can I trust you to lead these people to the Overgrown?"

Rivendell?

How?

Millie nods, all traces of sleepiness gone. "Of course, Codfather. And Emilio as well. They're a good fish."

Jimmy claps her on the shoulder once before turning away, pulling Scott back in the direction they came from.

"Wait!" Millie whisper-shouts, and Jimmy pauses, looks over his shoulder.

Millie gives him a grim nod. "Codspeed."

Jimmy nods back, once, then continues on.

"I'm sorry, what?" demands Scott, once they've retraced their path through the dozing force. "I—what are we—Rivendell, Jimmy? What—"

"We have to warn her," Jimmy says, and that may be true, but they can't just abandon the people here to go on a rescue mission miles and lifetimes away!

"Right, but it's logistically impossible—we ought to be headed to the Ocean Kingdom, warn her military commander, bef—"

"He literally told us where she was gonna be, we have to go out there—"

"He told us Rivendell! We don't know where in Rivendell, and more importantly—we can't get to Rivendell! How are we—"

"It's my sister, Scott," Jimmy says, and Scott falls silent at the desperate look on his face. He thinks he can see, by the moonlight, the sparkle of a tear on his cheek, somehow distinguishable from the shine of scales pushing through the scars on his face.

He got those scars, Scott remembers, when he fell through the Void and the nothing tore away pieces his skin, dissolving everything that was Jimmy.

Scott promised himself then, as his wings beat desperately and tears streamed down his face and he carried the unmoving body of his fiancé in his arms, that he would do anything for Jimmy, as long as he survived.

"It's my sister," Jimmy says again now, and Scott's eyes flick up from his scars to his beautiful, serious, brown eyes. "I'm not gonna leave her. I'm not gonna let Sausage murder her."

Scott glances away.

If they reveal themselves, Scott will have to face Xornoth.

If they save Lizzie, Scott will die.

And maybe that's dramatizing it a little bit, but it's true. If they go out into the public, if everyone knows that they're alive, then Xornoth will come after them.

Instead of, maybe, several more weeks with Jimmy, Scott's timeline has dropped down to a matter of days—hours, even.

He can't leave Jimmy so soon. He just found him again.

But one more look at Jimmy's pleading, teary eyes, and Scott knows that he can't leave Lizzie to die. She doesn't have a chance against the demon.

No one does, but he can at least hold Xornoth off while the others get to safety.

He'll never see Jimmy again.

"All right," he says, even as it breaks his heart. "We'll do it. But how do you intend on getting to Rivendell?"

Jimmy's eyes slowly slide up, up to the half moon, to the stars surrounding it. "Well, remember my escape plan from earlier?"

"Jimmy."

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