#imd fic

[alisonlynnmp100]

Fanart for the amazing fanfic “in my dreams (i seem to be more honest)” - (MobRei endgame)

Read the fic here!

If you like Reigen depressed, with lots of trauma and personal issues, and with a bias against himself no matter what, this is a must-read. The character study is amazing, the horror vibes at one point are spot-on, and the Seri vs Mob tension 👌🔥

[changeishard]

Chapter 3 is up!

Title: Love From the Other Side

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Elliott/Penny

Summary: Sam was desperate. He knew his band, Goblin Destroyer, was good, but they haven't been able to get it off the ground yet. They had quit their day jobs to focus on this, and Sam felt like it was his responsibility to make them famous.

So he would make a deal. He could part with his soul. It wasn't a huge price to pay for their success. Sam deserved it. Seb and Abby deserved it, too.

But the devil wasn't interested in his soul.

He wanted Sam's wife.

*

Or, an AU where Elliott is a God who takes Penny to his realm as part of Sam's bargain.

[softsnugglystomach]

Fic inspired by/set in @snexy-the-snail‘s PJO AU

Achaikos had been about to enter the clearing in the woods, which he often likes to visit, when he heard a strange sound, a hum of delight and a loud swallow ringing through the air. He peeked out from behind a tree, and froze as his mind registered what he was seeing.

There in the middle of the clearing was a man with tanned skin and golden eyes, sitting on the grass with a bow by his side. But more alarming than the god, which Achaikos was sure was Apollo, was the pair of legs that stuck out from his mouth, the rest of the body making a bulge within the god’s throat as another gulp dragged the poor soul deeper into his body.

His hands shook as he saw Apollo continue to swallow them, each gulp pulling them deeper until at last, they were stuffed inside his bulging belly. A soft burp left Apollo, and he licked his lips, looking down at his gut with a smug grin as he curled his arms around it.

“You know, you tasted absolutely divine.” He purred, resting his head atop his swollen belly. His stomach shifted, a jerky movement as the person inside seemed to kick out at the walls of his gut. “Oh, don’t be so upset, little one.” He said teasingly, “After all, it’s an honor to be held within my belly, the belly of a god.”

The yelling of his captive was muffled by the layers of flesh that surrounded them, a round of struggles starting up before they seemed to tire and slump down inside him. “There we go. No point in struggling, you knew this would happen when you snuck out.”

His tone was chiding, as if talking to a child about why they were being grounded, and Achaikos wondered what they could possibly have done to receive a punishment like this. He wasn’t sure there was anything one could do to deserve such a thing.

Then again, nobody had ever claimed that the gods were just. His heart pounded at the thought that he might be witnessing some poor soul getting devoured for a minor slight, that he might be watching an innocent person meet their end inside the stomach of a god.

He couldn’t bear to watch anymore, and he backed away slowly, his steps carrying him farther and farther away.

The sudden snap of a branch beneath his boot almost made his heart stop, and as Apollo looked up, turning in his direction, Achaikos turned and ran, his mind racing as terror overtook him.

—————

Apollo looked up as a snap rang through the clearing, catching a glimpse of blond hair before whoever had just been there started to run, their steps quick as they bolted away from him. “Whoops.” Maria, who had just begun to settle down in the warmth of his belly, stirred again, poking at one of the soft folds of his stomach. “Huh? Did something happen, dad?”

Apollo grinned sheepishly, resting a hand atop her head. “I think we might have just traumatized some poor mortal.” She let out a bark of laughter, her whole body shaking with her giggles as she thought about what it must have looked like to the unfortunate person that stumbled across them. Eventually, her snickers died down, and she leaned against the walls of his gut.

“So… when can I leave?” Maria asked, feigning nonchalance as she laid down inside him. “In another few hours, maybe.” Apollo answered, seeming amused by her eagerness to be let out of his belly. “Oh come on! I only left for a few minutes!” She huffed shoving at the muscles that cradled her inside of him.

“Yes, that’s why I’m not grounding you for longer, but you still had me very worried when Chiron IMd me to tell me you had gone missing. Might as well get comfortable, kiddo.” Maria crossed her arms, frowning. “Fine.”

[baeshijima]

seeing your ideas is literally getting a glimpse of heaven and reading your fics are like drinking fucking ambrosia IMD GOING INSANE STOP THIS TRICKERY AND MAGIC MADNESS IM (picture the head in hands lying on the floor with a pool of tears beneath meme and tyvm for going bipiti-bopiti-boo on each of us starving anons 🛐🛐🛐)

also if you're taking anons can i be ":3" anon?

HELP 😭 im glad my delusions resonate with so many of u <33 the ideas are literally just the equivalent of dumping my brain onto the floor and the fics are piecing it back together ;w;; if i dont let the brainworms out i will never be free 😔 (im still not free but we ignore that aha)

stay tuned for more ideas near u :'D

[hermits-that-craft]

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter One - Dreams are Sweet

Link to the ao3 in comments

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

So why does it make Jimmy’s heart yearn?

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

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

It has to be.

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

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

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

---

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

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

“Joel,” Lizzie grumbles. “Tell him.”

“Just because you think that this is-”

“It is similar!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Nothing could go wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll come back?”

“Always.”

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

Why did the dream hurt?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He yearns for his home.

[waltenfiled]

what if someone brings up fanfiction, what if someone brings up discourse, what if someone shows the tntduo kissing art

[tenshindon]

22nd au where everything’s the same except yamcha’s gotta wear the lingerie outfit cause roshi fucked up

[jiminisjamin]

So uh pfofjf i dont remember if i out a post out but i probably wont be able to for any of the rest of December. I’ll keep this short since its not my personal blog and isnt what yall follow this blog for but I was ice skating today and a fell and hit my head on the edge of a concrete bench (and happened to hit my head where im missing some of my skull) so... i have a concussion again (never healed fully from my last one a few months ago) and i really dont think i’ll be able to get any writing done.

That being said i’m still gonna try to make myself get something out because i feel really bad not posting anything so...uh, yeah. Sorry.

[billy-batson]

[livedsomanylives]

@anonymous22-22 @artzeppo OMG this is PERFECT, it's so much more than I could have imagined. No one had ever drawn anything based on an idea of ​​mine and I am SO HAPPY, SOSOSO HAPPY!!!! The level of detail is breathtaking , Billy's mouth with the temple tip has totally melted me, their faces and expressions are beautiful and so real and STEVE LOOKS SO HAPPY AND BILLY'S FACE LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE I PICTURED HIM ARE YOU A MAGICIAN OR WHAT. the tatoooooooo, THE TATOO HAS GLASSES TOO AHAHAAHA IM DYING AND THEIR HAIRI IS SO ON POINT OMG. I am not able to express how happy and grateful I am, really BUT THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I LOVE IT SO MUCH!

Ohhhh, I was thinking,

AU where Billy uses contacts/glasses because he can’t properly see anything that’s a little more than a meter away. And one day Steve finds out and starts to tease him endlessly. Teases when Billy messes up his contacts and squints to recognize people in the HS hallways (“For God’s sake, Hargrove. Just put them on. Worst case scenario, they’ll improve your game”/ “Ah-ha-ha you’re so funny look at how hard I’m fake-laughing”). Teases him when Billy has to go out of the house with them because Neil needs something now, Billy, now and he is unlucky enough to bump into Steve in the supermarket (“You really do look weird in those”/”Weird”/ “Nono, I mean it like-” /”Bye, Harrington”).  Teases him when Billy gets a cold that has his eyes burning for three days in a row, and Billy has to wait for everyone else to leave so he can put them on to get to his house (“Hey, gorgeous. Are you ok? Do you want me to drive you?” / “Oooh, fuck off”).  Steve teases him, teases him teases him.

Till one day, Billy explodes.

They are in the library. Steve has just dropped into the seat next to him and he’s eyeing the glasses like there made of pure awfulness instead of plain plastic.

“Really, i can’t decide if you look better with or without them”

And Billy is oh, so done with this.

“Ok. That’s it” Takes Steve by the collar of his jacket “What. The fuck. Is. Your problem?”

Steve has the audacity to frown.

“What do you–?”

“It is me? It is the glasses? It is me with the glasses? It is some kind of pathological shit you should be treating with a shrink? Give me something, Harrington, because I don’t fucking get it”

“Wait. I mean–None. No. What?”

“An answer, Harrington. In complete sentences, if you don’t mind”

Steve swallows.  A lot of people think that Billy has no patience, but God, he does.

“I don’t have anything against them! Is not that”

“Then what it is”

 “Oh-Eh. I wasn’t picking on you”  Steve runs a hand through his hair, “Is just that-I think they-Uh. I think they look pretty good”

“I don’t get it”

“On you”

“Still don´t”

Steve snorts.

“God, you’re so difficult”

“I am difficult?”

Steve glares at him.

“They look cute ¿ok? You look cute with them”

“Cute” and oh. Oh. OH. He’s making fun of him. Again “Cute like in are you kidding me? All those fucking jokes–“

“Listen–”

“–about the fucking glasses. And now you–“

Steve kisses him. Takes his face into his hands and ki-sses-him.  Billy’s glasses slip a little up the bride of his nose. When Steve backs off, he has to rearrange them to be able to see him.

“Cute like that”

“Uhm” he’s not going to smile. He’s not going to smile. He’s not fucking melting!

“Yeah”

Billy takes a breath. Smiles.

“Ok but on a scale of one to ten how cu-“

He’s pretty sure it’s a ten giving how hard Steve is kissing him.

[alisonlynnmp100]

“I think there’s something you should ask me”

Fanart for chapter 13 (and final) of the wonderful fic “in my dreams (i seem to be more honest)”

[kadssp]

Hmmmm~ I don’t know… you don’t sound convincing enough for me. I’ll think I’ll hold onto it a little longer. In the mean time, I’ll find some more while I wait for your compelling argument as to why you deserve it. Until then, my love~

- Cherrybomb anon (🍒💣)

FUCK bro listen i’ll post my fic early if i have to for some peepaw shit i’d uhmmmmmmmmmm i’d open my requests specially for you because you deserve it. i’ll give you my plush collection of the fnaf characters. LITERALLY ANYTHING FOR PEEPAW IM BEGGING YOU

but as to my argument towards why imd deserve it… hm well i mean i write fanfics for you guys for one. i feed you all smut almost daily and i’ve been good today so yk,,, i think i deserve it😞

[madhyanas]

15 and 18!!❤❤

15: Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

probably tags. most of the time i prefer only tagging triggers/things people would like to avoid, and maybe a few thematic elements? sometimes it's tricky picking out what's worth a tag and what people can infer for themselves. i try not to go too overboard w tagging tropes n such. titles are usually meaningful (im partial to contextually relevant quotes) but they might also just be a string of words i come up w on the spot and like the sound of. summaries i just keep short - usually a sentence or two and i like 2 pretend im witty.

18: Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

definitely! there was a version of a strumming of nerves that had fennec involved, sceptical yet kinda freaked out at the same time, and another where din actually does harm boba while possessed. there's an addendum to like the switch to be flicked for omera's POV on din's new parent jitters that i've been meaning to polish up too. she should laugh at him a bit i think

not to mention my BABY the craft so long to learn has a whole folder full of AU ideas and alternative plot points that have been scrapped for the final outcome. e.g. there's an alternative first meeting, just before the events of the original trilogy, where doc doesn't manage to dodge the IMD and gets drafted to work for the empire. they hate it, and meet boba during the peak of his bounty hunting career through work. something something boba is doc's ticket OUT of constant surveillance, if not completely out of working for fascists. kinda invested in that one bc it's nice to contrast OT-era vs mando-era boba's characterisation (esp with his attitudes to violence, vulnerability, cockiness, etc). same with doc too - technically a cop-out since i MADE THEM UP - but i imagine they'd be a little more idealistic, a little more whiny and a lot less careful. their interaction is somehow even unfriendlier than that from the actual fic lmfao

im planning to post some AUs/side works to tcsltl after the fic itself is done!

ask me abt my writing there's a post or smth idk

[yespolkadotkitty]

Soo back to the Geralt and food diaries: how about Geralt, who’s had a bad hunt, is brooding and not talking, not wanting to eat because his mind is just other places. The reader tries to get him to eat and makes a dish he can’t resist, maybe even spoon feeds him until he can’t resist anymore and gives in and enjoys her mouth watering food. ❤️ since you love the Geralt Food Diaries so much I thought Imd request another one 😊

IT GOT ANGSTY

Roach’s whinny wakes you from your nap, and you sit up to see Geralt coming through the door. He looks wrecked, battered, eyes black from residual potion, his shoulders and back stiff, his mouth a thin, firm line.

You get up from your chair by the fire and cross to him. “Geralt?”

He stands stock still for a moment, looking but not seeing, and then he brushes past you to your bed, unlacing his armour and letting it fall, then laying down on the mattress wordlessly.

“Are you hungry?”

“Hmm.”

This is not good.

You perch on the edge of the bed, stroke back his hair. His eyes are slowly returning to their enchanting amber shade.

“What happened, on the hunt?”

He doesn’t speak for a long time, and you tell yourself to be content with that, just breathing him in, the twinning scents of lemon oil and fresh earth.

Finally he says, staring at the ceiling, “I couldn’t save the child.”

Your heart sinks. Deep inside, Geralt really thought the world needed him, that he could save everyone, everything, fix everything, if only he tried hard enough, gave enough.

And your heart simply bled for him that he couldn’t, and it would never be his fault, but that wasn’t how the world worked.

The world wasn’t kinder to you because you wanted to save it.

“Oh, Geralt,” you murmur, laying down beside him, snuggling your head into the hollow of his shoulder, listening to his heart beat. “What happened?”

For a long moment his chest just rises and falls, but then he starts to speak.

“The manticore was in its death throes. I’d partially drowned it, and it was weakening. I didn’t see the child run in after the puppy - fuck, I hadn’t seen the puppy at all. And then when I did see, it was too late.”

His hands ball into fists. “They chased me from the town.”

“Oh, Geralt.”

This was his curse. People needed Witchers more than they would ever know, in their safe, mundane little lives.

“Did they even pay you?” you whisper.

“Didn’t want their coin. I may have killed the manticore, but I also took the life of a child.” He turns on his side, away from you, and your head hits the empty pillow with a soft thunk.

You stare at his back, rigid under the dirty, worn white shirt.

You couldn’t soothe him with words, but you could with food.

You sit up as his breathing evens out. He must have been exhausted and you’d bet good coin that those townsfolk hadn’t fed him.

He softly snores and you glance out of the window to see Roach nibbling at the grass. A soft rain has started to fall.

You set out your mortar and pestle, and get your cutting board and knives. By the time the Witcher wakes, you have his favourite stew on the fire, the aroma of garlic, rosemary, black pepper and partridge meat filling the small space of your home.

Geralt sits up, his face still a study in misery, but he looks a bit brighter.

You scoop three generous ladles of stew into a bowl and carry it to the bed. “Hungry now?”

He grunts, which you take as assent. His face is still set in unhappy lines as you stir the stew. “I made your favourite.”

He sighs deeply, his huge shoulders rising and falling. “Why do you tolerate me in your home?”

You almost drop the bowl in surprise. “What? It’s been two years and you ask me that now?  You mean I could have got rid of you before?”

He doesn’t smile at your teasing, looking away.

“Geralt.” You set the stew down and cup his chin, his stubble tickling your palm pleasantly. “If I did not want you here, believe me, you would not be here. Now, eat.”

Like a little boy or an invalid, he obediently opens his mouth, but when you put the spoon in, he can’t contain a little growl of pleasure.

“It’s good, see?” you prompt.

He chews, swallows, and sighs, some colour coming back into his starkly handsome face. “You’re too good for this world, little wren.”

You smile and feed him more stew, thinking that it’s him that is too pure for this pigshit world, but he will give it his all, anyway.

Tagging people who might like this: @owillofthewisps @princess-of-riviaa @geralt-of-baevia @ly--canthrope @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @radaofrivia @mary-ann84 @chamomilebottom @andahugaroundtheneck @peakygroupie @promptandpros @witchernonsense

@nathyfaith made this awesome fic art for this series!

[hermits-that-craft]

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Fourteen - All I Wanted Was A Framework

AO3 in reblogs.

Their swords clash, setting off fiery sparks throughout the nether. If Scott were to be honest, he finds the fight dull. Xornoth still fights like how he used to -  “Your brother favors his left hand, Alinar. If you focused on his right you would actually beat him”  - and he’s still as silent as the night air -  “Too scared of me to talk, Conal?”  - and it’s boring . 

Turning into a demon didn’t change his brother all that much, as horrifying as that fact is, which means Scott has a chance to stop him.

Right here.

Right now.

“You’ve gotten better at fighting.” Conal - Xornoth - says. “But you’re not good enough.”

“As long as he escapes you, I don’t care.” Scott spits.

“Oh Alinar,” Scott flinches, and Xornoth kicked him in the chest. “You’re still as naive as the day our parents died.”

“You killed them.”

“I saved them.” Xornoth’s eyes gleam in the nethers' warm light. “You don’t understand.”

“Of course I don’t.” Scott snaps, risking a glance towards where Jimmy had laid. The other ruler had disappeared, and whilst normally that would be a relief - especially in this circumstance - fear twists in Scott’s stomach. 

“Your precious little swamp boy doesn’t love you in this life.” Xornoth hisses, laughing.

“I can accept that.” Scott says, glaring at his brother. “He doesn’t have to, he should be allowed to live his life.”

“He’s afraid of you.” Xornoth hisses, laughing. “He’ll always be afraid of you.”

And they disappear into the air, leaving behind a laugh that grates at Scott’s ears and makes his stomach sink in despair. They’re gone. They’re a  coward  who killed their parents and now  runs  from him. And they’ve been trying to corrupt  Jimmy .

What have they been telling him, that would make Jimmy afraid of him? 

Scott needs to apologise to Jimmy, assure him that no matter what, he will respect Jimmy’s wishes. Respect whatever boundaries Jimmy sets in place. Although Scott loves him, if Jimmy has no love in his heart for Scott, Scott will never bring up courting again. Scott leaps into the air, taking off to fly over to the Cod Empire. He needs to check on Jimmy.

Flying in the nether has always been more of an obstacle course than a fair flight, but Scott always found the tight corners and bubbling lava exhilarating to fly over. Learning to fly is so rigid in Rivendell - rightfully so, as children do not have the ability to respawn and learning after you turn 16 is more difficult than it should be - that flying in the nether is the adrenaline rush that most elves go for.

Scott lands in front of the portal to the Cod Empire, his hair tousled and his feathers askew. He’ll need to preen when he arrives home, but that isn’t important. He needs to apologise to Jimmy.

The humid air of the swamp empire brings dread on its cool breeze. How can he say  anything  to Jimmy, how can he look at him in the face when he knows he’s hurt him. Jimmy is not beyond repair, but their relationship surely is. Any chance of even  friendship  would have gone out the window with Xornoth’s words. What is Scott in comparison to Jimmy?

What is the moon to the sun?

Scott walks along the path to Jimmy’s house, the moon lighting his path. It must be nearly midnight now, and the entire empire is silent. Sleeping peacefully. It’s serene, in a way that Scott can’t recognise. Night time in Rivendell means guards with quiet armour and those on the night shift chatting away in their cafes and restaurants, but this night is silent. Not a single guard is patrolling, not a single shop has a light on. The Cod Empire has a certain peace that Rivendell lacks. It’s nice.

Jimmy’s house is unguarded. 

It’s strange. Scott  knows  that every other emperor has at least one guard stationed at the entrance to their house of a night - even Queen Lizzie, who complains about it nonstop in slow meetings - but Jimmy’s house has no one. It’s not a matter of sleeping elsewhere, Scott knows this is the house he rests in, but it is strange that he has no guards.

What’s stranger is the letter taped to the door.

The paper is rough, with blood red ink carefully staining the words onto the page -  Dearest Ocean Queen, as though a letter taped to a door would be made any less terrifying if written in prose. Scott hesitates for a second, before knocking on Jimmy’s door. The door opens, but no one moves inside the house. Scott doesn’t hesitate - he’s a king, a champion of a god and a  brave  elf who will not stop until his people and loved ones are safe - but he doesn’t enter the house. He can’t. Not when Jimmy’s already scared of him.

“Jimmy?” Scott calls into the still silence, into the bitter unknown. “I’m sorry. Whatever I’ve done to hurt you, to make you fear me, I apologise. I don’t seek your forgiveness, and I won’t force it from you. I just-”

Scott’s breath stops, his hand hovering just past the threshold. As though Jimmy’s there. As though a touch on the shoulder could make him understand where Scott is coming from.

“I just hope we could mend our relationship, and continue to be friends.” 

Scott turns to leave, shutting the door behind him, when something glistens in the doorframe. Carefully, silently, Scott enters the house, horror forcing its way up his lungs and into his throat. Glass shards litter the floorboards, with small droplets of blood on them. Jimmy didn’t answer because he’s afraid of Scott.

Jimmy isn’t  there .

Scott rips the letter off the door, racing towards the ocean. The moon sings her siren song, pulling Scott towards the ocean. There were tales - when Scott was younger, when Scott hadn’t chosen his ruling name yet, when Scott still had a brother - of two lovers. An elven woman and a fishfolk woman. They were soulmates, but due to being of different species they were banned, and later killed, for their love. The fishfolk woman became the ocean, and the elven woman became the moon. They dance together, causing the tides and the storms, and Elara - the moon - leads people towards Cari, her lover.

It’s just a myth, but Scott prays to Elara that she’ll grant him safe passage towards the heart of the ocean, to deliver this news to Lizzie. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if she doesn’t.

Luck seems to be in his favour, though, because the ocean calms herself, and the path to the Prisma Palace is lit with silver rays from the moon.  Birds fly low over the ocean, and the water is darkened to pitch as the depths become unsurvivable, but the waves are low, and a clear path leads towards the palace. The Prisma Palace, which is normally a beautiful site, is a glowing beacon of safety in the dark night sky. Literally. The palace glows, lighting up the ocean empire’s lily pads and surrounds. It’s beautiful.

Scott lands on the top floor of the main tower, leaving his wings out to cool. The guards stationed around the door nod to him, before looking back so fast Scott could have sworn they got vertigo.

“Sovereign Smajor, how can we assist you?” One says, their hand going towards their sword.

“I know that it is completely improper of me to arrive at such a time, nor demand such a thing from your queen, but there is urgent news I must address to her.” Scott says, fear eating away at his throat. He didn’t plan this. He’s completely off script. “Please.”

“I’ll fetch her.” A young woman says, leaving himself and the guard in the room together. 

The guard awkwardly rocks on the balls of their feet, half turned towards Scott. It’s clear that, although the other guard had no qualms in Scott arriving so late, the guard does. Scott turns from them, staring at the moon. He can’t afford to wait - Jimmy’s been,  most likely,  kidnapped - he needs to find him. He needs to apologise. 

Lizzie and Joel walk into the room, yawning and rubbing their eyes. Lizzie’s in just a white shift, and Joel’s in an oversized white shirt and shorts. Both have messy hair, and Joel looks about ready to fall over, but there's concern in their eyes.

“Come to my map room.” Lizzie says, stretching slightly. Scott nods mutely, following the couple down the long, winding outdoor staircase to the map room. Lizzie sits crossed legged on the map, and Joel joins her. 

Scott stands awkwardly for a second before Lizzie and Joel shuffle back, patting the spot in front of them. Scott sits down gingerly, his legs screaming their praise as the adrenaline wears off. He’s  tired , bone deep exhaustion that hasn’t left him in days hitting him in full force.

“I asked Rea to bring us some hot chocolate.” Joel smiles, winking at Scott. “You look like you’ve been through hell, lad. Did you fight that demon that everyone’s been talking about?”

“Yes.” Scott’s throat is dry, barely keeping his emotions under wraps. He’s drowning in the air, it hurts and there are tears in his eyes and everythings going to spill and his  brother  has probably kidnapped his  soulmate  and he has to deliver the news to  Lizzie  and this is so much worse than telling families that they lost their child or partner or parent in war he  can’t  do this-

“Does that letter have the information?” Lizzie asks, and Scott shrugs, but hands over the letter in any case. Lizzie opens the letter, carefully reading it over as Joel sends Scott a worried look.

The guard - Rea - places the mugs full of hot chocolate on the table before she quickly hurries out of the room. Joel passes a mug to Scott and Lizzie, taking the letter off his wife as she rereads it. Lizzie makes a squawk of protest, but she doesn’t try to take the letter off of Joel.

“It’s a lie, right?” She asks instead. “Jimmy’s just  Jimmy . Why would he-”

“I’m going to go and grab Pix.” Joel says, his voice hollow. “We need to have a meeting. You two should compose yourselves while I grab him.”

“What does the letter say?” Scott’s voice is small. It’s like when his grandmother died leading a battle. Standing in the shadows, hearing his father get the letter. It’s like when his brother disappeared, only to come back as a demon.

Lizzie sits in silence, shaking her head. Scott frowns, drinking his hot chocolate until Pixl and Joel both walk into the room, red faced and panting heavily. Pixl is also in informal clothes, and the sun rises as the man sits on the table with Lizzie and Scott. Joel, on the other hand, lays down on the table, staring angrily at the ceiling.

“Is Jimmy sick?” Pixl asks. “Joel didn’t tell me anything. He just grabbed me and said something about our favourite cod.”

“Lizzie, do you want to read the letter or do you want me to?” Joel asks.

“I can do it.” Lizzie’s clearly lying, but Joel nods anyways, propping himself up on his elbows. Lizzie takes a deep breath in, opens her mouth, and shuts it again.

“By order of the true and future king, Jimmy Solidarity has been taken to learn how to-” Lizzie stops, her voice shaking. She takes another deep breath before continuing. “To learn how to obey Xornoth. He will not be killed, ocean queen, but searching for him-”

Lizzie sobs, and Joel gently takes the paper out of her hands, pulling her into a hug as he reads.

“Searching for him will end in his death. His respawn point will be set in his cell, as we have destroyed his bed. You will not find him. Love, Xornoth’s followers.”

“So we can chalk this down to Joey and Sausage.” Pix says, standing.

“It could be civilians though.” Lizzie argues. “Don’t look at me like that, we all know that Jimmy doesn’t have guards of a night, and those two do. They don’t go out of a night.”

“Could be Fwhip.”

“You just don’t like him because he said that you were poor.”

“He kidnapped Jimmy before!”

“Doesn’t mean he’ll do it again!”

“Are you  alright, Scott?” Lizzie asks, her voice shaking. “You’re crying.”

Oh. Scott wipes his cheeks, watching as the tears wet his hands and drip down his cheeks more. So he is. That's - That’s surprising. He didn’t cry when Conal ran away, nor when his parents died. He hasn’t cried in public for years, preferring the comfort of his private rooms and the staff he’s known for nearly a century. He’s certainly mourned and cried - Conal was his best friend, and his parents were the last of his family - but not in public. Not around other people.  Especially  not around other emperors.

And yet, Jimmy’s kidnapping broke him.

“This is all my fault.” Scott says into the silence. “This is all my fault. If I just  won  in that fight, Jimmy would have made it home safely.”

“What fight?” Pixl asks, eyebrows knotted together in concern.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the nether to do some more difficult flying.” Scott swallows. “And I saw Xornoth corner Jimmy, and then we fought, and Jimmy disappeared and then  Xornoth  disappeared and if I had just killed him Jimmy would be safe right now!” The words fall out of Scott’s mouth, a waterfall of guilt and fear and  sorrow. Scott’s doomed this now, Lizzie and Joel and Pixl are going to hate him and-

“That’s dumb as.”

“ Joel. War jar. Now.”  Pixl angrily growls, glaring at the mad king until he left the rooms. “I’m so sorry Scott. What Joel said was unnecessarily cruel- ” Scott holds back a laugh as Pixl yells that at Joel - “But Joel has the right sentiment. This isn’t your fault.”

“We have no one to blame except Xornoth! And the people who actually kidnapped him.” Lizzie smiles through her own tears. “But you should head home. You got here at like, 4am. Get some sleep, Scott.”

“Yeah king, your crown is falling.” Joel smiles.

“Joel I swear to god I’m going to kill you.”

“You married me, you chose this!” Joel bites back. “But you should head home. We’ll work out a plan to get him back and keep you updated if anything comes through. Get some sleep.” Scott nods, shuffling off of the table and walking towards the entrance to the building, letting his wings fall out.

“Fly safely!” Lizzie calls as Scott takes off, and Scott smiles to himself. That was nice of her.

The flight to Rivendell is long, monotonous and tiring. Scott doesn’t think, barely breathing as his wings scream in pain from the lack of breaks. But Scott can’t bring himself to care. The world around him blurs to grey and brown, trees just ugly streaks of colour in the cold environment. How dare the flowers bloom? How dare the trees stand proud? How dare the world keep turning, when Jimmy has been taken from it?

Scott lands in Rivendell, falling into the arms of his knights and guards. Eloise pulls him up, letting him lean on her as she guides him to his house in a daze. She’s such a good guard, he should really get on with knighting her. The night shift knight, now thats a title and nickname that she’ll hate.

The world muddles around him, voices washing over him like he’s submerged underwater, drowning on dry land. At some point, Eloise hands him to Cyran, who holds him tightly, a parent supporting their child. Cyran’s too kind to him, practically family even though he denies them the title. Should he give them the title, if Conal is only going to snatch it away?

“Oh, fledgling.” Cyran says, tucking the king into his bed. “You’ve worn yourself too thin these past days. Rest now.”

Scott’s eyes flutter shut, and he surrenders to the old witch sleep’s beck and call.

—

“What do you have there?” Scott asks, a light lilt to his tone that he’s missed having. His flower looks up at him, red eyes dancing in the fire light.

“I’ve got our music disk.” his husband smiles. “Care for a dance, petal?”

“Anything to stay with you.” Scott takes his hand, letting the man lead him into a slow dance.

They sway together, so close their sharing breath, before his husband picks up the pace, spinning Scott amongst the flowers. Scott laughs, the poppies falling out of his hair as he pulls them in together again. The flowers sway in the breeze, and the bliss is so tangible Scott is sure even Dogwarts is experiencing it.

“Where did you learn this dance?” Scott laughs as he steps on his love's feet.

“I didn’t.” The man admits, pulling Scott towards him, pausing the dance. Scott looks up into the red names eyes, finding only love in them. “I made it for you. I can’t build, so I made something for you, that you’ll remember even when I’m gone.”

“Don’t joke like that, love.” Scott protests, and his husband presses a kiss to his eyelids, smiling as he pulls away.

“I will always love you, Scott.” He promises, pulling Scott’s hand over his heart. “I will always love you, through creation and out the other side.”

And they kiss, and all is   well.

[freelancearsonist]

Real question. So, assuming that this was still practice in Orestes time. Do you think Orestes ever exercise in the nude? Causeee that's giving me fic ideas. 👀

WHAT THE UFFUCK THTJSA ANTHING IMD GACEWSMING PLS WITRE IT

(Translation: what the fuck that’s a thing I’m screaming please write it; I was so fucking frantic I went temporarily blind 😂😂)