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Gillion gets hurt a lot, and badly. He gets hurt so much that Jay and Chip can see the spatter of scars pressed into his ever-damp skin every time his armor shifted from his biceps.

There are a couple moments, vulnerable moments between big events, where Gillion takes his armor off slowly, piece by piece, and they see the picture fully. Chip could remember touching that patchwork mess of scars once, just barely, below the spot his gills meet the fins across his back, enough to feel the smooth skin turned rough with imperfectly healed wounds.

Gillion had flinched away from the touch, but then settled into it with a breathy apology. Chip hadn’t known why he was the one being apologized to.

Gillion always felt the need to make himself the one who shouldered the world; the blame, the cold steel of a sword aimed against the whole trio, anything and everything he could keep from his co-captains and take into his own torn and mended flesh.

Jay remembered long nights, sitting beside Gillion’s barrel, begging the water not to color with blood from rebroken wounds. She wasn’t sure he even knew, she was quiet enough that she never even noticed him stir from his sleep when she was watching.

She’d told him that he should spend the night after big injuries in a bed, just so they could keep a better eye on him. In case something went wrong, went unsaid. He’d shrugged her off, saying something about the healing properties of sea water, and that was that.

They could both name dozens of accounts of seeing him crumble under blows so heavy they could kill anyone else outright. They knew the color of his blood better than their own, that royal purple tone, somewhere in between their own and the ocean. They knew the aching fear of loss, the twist of panic whenever Gillion’s breath skipped a second after an injury. They knew Gillion Tidestrider, and all the pain he had endured to protect the rest of the world.

Somewhere between red, and blue. Somewhere between land, and sea.

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Sweater Weather - WitherHusbands

So I kind of had to write more half-dragon Sausage so why not make fWhip cold in the process?

AO3

Sausage woke up to rather worrying news. fWhip out of nowhere cancelled WRA meeting and gave no reason in the message. The heavier clothes the messenger wore gave some indication of the weather conditions in Grimlands but the cold has never cancelled a meeting before. So Sausage announced to his court he'd personally check if maybe Grimlands needed their help and were just too proud to ask. Mostly because as a half-dragon he was mostly immune to cold of all kinds in case Scott was involved for some bizarre reason.

And maybe because he had little chance to talk to fWhip one on one since the costume ball and nearly burning the roses gardens...

Luckily no elves seemed to be involved with the mild frost over the Grimlands landscape so Sausage flew directly to the count's mansion. And as he neared the building his heart nearly stopped. What was fWhip doing on his outer walls? Not that he had time to ask or do anything other than rush as quickly to fWhip as he could as the count lost his grip and started to fall. Managing to catch him pretty quickly. 

"Sausage?" fWhip asked, clinging to the half-dragon for dear life. He would never admit how extreme heights and lack of contact with the ground made him feel. Or being held by Sausage of all people who could fly.

"What are you doing so high up with no scaffolding?" Sausage asked, slowly nearing the ground. And wondering where fWhip's advisors and staff were.

"Checking the heating system vents dues to cold coming sooner than expected. All the usual staff in charge of that is going around the town," fWhip explained once on solid ground.

"And why no scaffolding?" Sausage insisted while glaring at fWhip. He was really worried here but still found it in himself to admit that fWhip bundled up in two sweaters under his coat and with a knit hat on was adorable. And looked very huggable but that could wait until Sausage was done scolding him for being reckless.

"The... I might have forgotten in my hurry to have the heating on," fWhip admitted sheepishly, hiding in his scarf.

Sausage only sighed, of course, it was something like that. "Is it really that cold to you?" Sausage was not so ignorant to not know that others were more affected by cold than he was.

"Yes, and I still have several vents and chimneys to check... I'll grab scaffolding..." fWhip sighed looking up at his mansion.

The whole system was likely a prototype and no one but fWhip knew all the intricacies of it. And he'd likely be involved in it even if the proper personnel were doing it. "Or I could carry you up to those vents," Sausage offered. He did tell his court he was coming over to help. It'd be rude if he just left when there was something he could help with.

"You what?" fWhip asked turning to face Sausage with the most befuddled expression.

"Carry you up to your vents," Sausage repeated, already stretching his wings. "It'll possibly be even safer than the scaffolding," he added with a grin. "If you're comfortable with it that is."

fWhip stared at Sausage for good solid couple of minutes. And would possibly stare at him longer if not for a sudden gust of cold wind that easily penetrated all his layers. "Okay, okay, anything to be done faster," he huffed and was about to ask how exactly Sausage was planning to do it while also allowing fWhip to use his hands but instead yelped as he was swept off his feet into Sausage's arms. 

"Where to?" the half-dragon asked with a grin. fWhip might have kind of understood how Sausage felt seeing him in a maid dress.

Thankfully for fWhip's sake Sausage did not mention how much he was blushing and stuttering. And made checking on the vents and chimneys a much faster and safer experience. And of course, once they were done and swarmed by advisors confused about why fWhip was in Sausage's arms, invited him for a dinner. To thank him for his help with the heating system. And maybe to keep him around a little longer since he was really warm and made waiting for the heating to really start working need a lot fewer blankets.

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Great Mythland Costume Ball - WitherHusbands

I'm sorry MythicalSausage fans, I seem to have killed our boy here

AO3

Ball. Parties. Social events of all kinds that had little to do with actual politics. Serving only for the host to show off. fWhip avoided those on all occasions. Yes. But when Sausage announced he'd be holding a costume party fWhip found himself more interested than he usually would be - meaning actually interested for once. And of course, the whole WRA meeting turned to a party talk that fWhip ignored in favour of thinking about what he could wear.

His usual 'fancy event' clothes made him look like a vampire from those terrible romance novels Gem read in some sort of an attempt to figure out how to approach her crush on Pearl. He could not go in his usual daily clothes either. Gem would have his head for being too casual. He barely registered Pearl and Sausage mentioning dressing as each other. A fun idea but it'd probably not work too well with fWhip and Gem... But a dress. A dress could work but not just any dress... A very special dress.

"Any ideas fWhip?" Gem asked him once the meeting was done. fWhip kind of missed it. "For the costume," she sighed as he gave her a confused look.

"I think I have something in mind, I'm just not sure how it'd work with time," fWhip hummed with a tiny grin. He was really liking his idea. "It might be involving a very particular kind of a dress."

"That's enough," Gem giggled. She trusted fWhip would do something that would shock everyone gathered at the party. "I have no idea what to wear myself," she sighed.

"We could dress you as 'bad romance novel vampire'," fWhip said, mostly joking but Gem actually liked the idea and ran off to dig through her 'collection' for the worst vampire romance novel she owned. fWhip followed suit by going to his tailors and maybe stunning them a bit with his idea.

Two weeks later fWhip's costume was ready right in time for the event. And Gem was waiting in his living room in her vampire costume that indeed made her look like a bit of a jerk and a lot like fWhip when he was forced to dress as a ruler should dress. Meaning frilly collars and vests and coats. Luckily fWhip's idea was much comfier than that. 

Are you planning a murder?" Gem asked as soon as fWhip walked down the stairs. 

"What do you mean by that?" he asked. A wide grin on his face, playing with his for once braided, and not just tied in a messy bun, hair.

Gem could have meant a lot of things but the most possible was how Jimmy and Scott would react to fWhip in a maid dress. It wasn't a short and revealing dress popular in indecent literature. No, fWhip's dress was ankle length but there was a long slit on the left side. Short sleeves were compensated by long white gloves with some black frills. And he decided to wear high heels - higher than Gem would ever dare to - and somehow made wearing them easy. And the neckline of the dress was mostly covering his neck. And somehow the Grimlands crown fit with the whole frilly thing.

"You're the worst," Gem chuckled, trying to cross her arms but losing the fight to her massive and very frilly sleeves. 

"It's just a dress Gem, the crossbow's for killing," fWhip chuckled but was more than looking forward to Sausage's reaction. "And it's not like I have time to change," he shrugged and made his way to the carriage already waiting for them outside the manor.

Mythland Castle was as grand as ever and very much decorated for the party the local king decided to organise. fWhip and Gem quickly made their way through all the official introductions that unfortunately could not be skipped and went looking for their allies. fWhip was more than happy with himself when literally everyone stopped whatever they were doing to stare at him as he passed by and then struggle to collect their jaws off the floor.

"fWhip!? Wow. Just wow," Peal gasped once she spotted them. "And Gem? Wow, you two look great." She looked great in Sausage's usual kingly vestments. Even with her sunflower crown in her hair. The crowns simply had to be included in the costumes thanks to all the royal rules. Long spiky dragon tail and pointy horns did not help Pearl's outfit translate well to Sausage's physique of a knight.

Speaking of the local king. Next to Peal was an utterly stunned Sausage, looking a bit silly but still great in Pearl's dress. fWhip attributed the silliness to the lack of sunflowers. "We'll be going to say hello to Katherine, you two have fun," Gem said, offering Pearl an arm and fWhip and Sausage were alone.

"Sausage?" fWhip asked after waving after them. "Eyes are up here," he joked, snapping his fingers as well as gloves allowed. 

"You look great..." Sausage mumbled. His tail was tentatively moving in excitement under his dress.

"I must, you've been silent for good two minutes. Real rarity," fWhip chuckled, shifting so the slit in his dress got a bit more obvious. His grin only grew as Sausage blushed and struggled with whatever gentlemanly thing his knightly up bring was telling him to do. It would seem the dress had more of an effect than fWhip intended it to have. "How about a dance?" he asked. Sausage always boasted about how great of a dancer he was and was thus bound to be more comfortable with that.

"Could we maybe go to the gardens for a second first? Before I start setting curtains on fire," Sausage said. Something between a whine and a growl.

"Only if you allow me to accompany you, sir," fWhip grinned and chuckled at another whine from his 'friend'.

"Obviously," Sausage huffed, with a mighty puff of smoke and some sparks, and extended an arm - a very bare arm - for fWhip to hold on to as they swiftly made their way outside so the half-dragon could cool down a bit. Not that it helped all that much.

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watched a video going over tumblrs takes on tropes and i gotta say. im a total sucker for “oh, (name)…” in a sad sympathetic way. it kicks me in the shins and leaves me on the ground to rot. i will cry. empathy and being cared for makes me WEAK

[burner937492]

Part 1/2 (?)

Love languages are too complicated when trying to put them in proper terms, Joel thinks.

It's pretty simple in action: sharing the best bits of fresh crisp bread with the rest of the bad boys, adjusting Jimmy's blanket when he inevitably throws it off in the sleep, brushing out the twigs and leaves in Grian's wings whenever he decides that it's just not worth the effort or time. In Double Life it used to be building the best boat on land for Etho, ocassional cooking and sharing weapons.

Then there is, well, the touch. You see, Joel is usually not exactly the most touchy person. Sure, he always tousled Jimmy's hair when he got the chance to (the scandalized 'excuse me?!' from the taller one was so worth it), but other than that and occasional leaning against one of the bad boys he just..didn't. And yet in Double Life just holding hands with Etho made him feel so much more secure, it was absurd. Of course, it was probably because of the whole soulmate stuff, but because of that Joel just kinda got used to holding onto the other one way or another. And now this silly little habit was biting him in the ass, since apparently it stayed even after Double Life ended. Even now, just standing nearby the redstoner on the TIES's skynet made his fingers twitch with the stupid urge. And how do you even word it? 'Hey, dude, I know we aren't on the best terms right now and I assisted your murder since you killed me before, but can we, like, hold hands for a few minutes? I've been thinking about this almost each time I saw you when not running for my life, you know?'

Sighing to himself, he sat down, carelessly swinging legs on the ledge,

"Something on your mind, Joel?" - only to be startled by the voice of his ex-soulmate, which resulted in frantic attempts to correct the balance. "For goodness' sake, Etho, warn the guy before sneaking behind his back on the bloody skynet!" - bristled Joel, finally steading himself and turning to the intruder in order to send a vicious glare. Eyes crinkling with an obvious mischief, the redstoner titled his head to the side with a faux innocence:"It's not like you're going to fail a water bucket jump again, right? Third time is a charm and such."

[burner937492]

The Turbulences of Being a Ruler chapter 5 + a bonus one shot

The Turbulences of Being a Ruler

Six months later Scott didn't feel any better about the idea of seducing fWhip and his father reminded him more and more as the time of the Meet came closer did not help in the slightest. That and Xornoth being away on his journey. He missed his brother's constant jokes and playful jabs about his crush. And terrible attempts at helping Scott's 'flirting game' improve… Whatever that was meant to mean.

Bonus One Shot

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

fWhip nearly jumped at Sausage's accusatory tone. "The time of the day when people interrupt my work?" he tried. Sausage was no Gem and would probably let some sass pass...

"It's the time of the NIGHT when you should be in your bed, resting, not working on whatever that is," he was informed and found himself wondering when Gem managed to get Sausage on the 'make fWhip take care of himself' side from the 'Chaos' side.

"I'm almost done," he said, like a liar. If he could get Sausage to leave then he could carry on working on the crossbow.

"We both know it's a lie," Sausage sighed, gently resting a hand in that one special spot between fWhip's wings.

[burner937492]

So @yb-cringe made this post, and I went a little wild. It’s 11:40pm. I will not apologize for this

Tws: character death, implied character death, villain!Jimmy, mild descriptions of injury, (lemme know if I missed one)

Now’s Your Chance To Be A Big Shot (because how bad can I possibly be?)

Scott trembled as he shoved Lizzie and Joel behind him. Oli was holding onto Callum for dear life as they backed up. Katherine was clinging to Gem, Fwhip, and Sausage. Scott couldn’t see everyone and he felt sick. They were missing people.

“Scott. This isn’t very nice.”

The Merling looked up, breathing heavily from both being on land and the fear coursing through his veins. He swallowed and looked Jimmy in the eye, trying to seem brave when he was very much not.

“What you’re doing isn’t very nice, Jimmy!” he shouted. “Look around! You’re killing us with your monopoly! Literally!”

He waved to the group behind him. Oli had several patches of scales missing, Joel was missing a lot of fur, Callum was shaking and bleeding, and Lizzie was holding onto Joel like her life depended on it.

Scott glanced to the other group. Katherine was crying, and Gem looked close to it. Fwhip was half dead, limp in Sausage’s arms as the alien held his sword out, angry.

He looked back to the Candy Man, trying not to sob. “Jimmy… Jimmy, this isn’t you! You’d never want to hurt your friends!”

Jimmy carefully aimed a crossbow at Scott. His face was void of any emotion, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying.

“I don’t think you understand how the economy works, Scott,” he said. His tone was that of a parent explaining something to a young child, making Scott shrink back. “It’s an endless uphill climb to success. Sometimes you have to make… sacrifices, to get what you need.“

Jimmy looked to the cowering crowd, huffing a small laugh. He cocked the crossbow, still pointed at Scott’s forehead. “It’s nothing personal,” he told him, shrugging. Then, he smirked. “It’s just business.”

A group screamed. A Merling dropped to the ground. A candy factory soon flourished.

[burner937492]

I’ve been brainrotting and now have some evil fWhip angst because someone had to do it. Might make a part two if I'm feeling skrunkly enough. I'll link it here if I finish it.

Tw: possession, angst, body horror, mild to moderate violence, derealization

fWhip was digging through his chests when it happened the first time. He was shuffling around, looking for his lasts bits of deepslate for a building in the Grimlands. But so far all he had was less than half a shulker box full.

He grumbled, his body halfway into the chest in the storage room as he desperately rummaged around for the block. He huffed as he realized he might have to go mining for it.

He began to pull himself away from all of the contents in the chest when something red and glowing caught his eye. Thinking it might be some deepslate redstone, he reached out and grabbed it.

It wasn't.

It was a red vine of Xornoth.

The thing instantly began writhing in his fingers, though he was no bigger than his palm.

Immediately, fWhip tried to throw the thing across his room, but not before it had wrapped around two of his fingers. He shook his hand in a frantic motion, hoping, praying that the thing would release his hand.

This couldn't be happening. This wasn't real. Please, Aeor, don't let this be real. The thing intertwining with his fingers began to squeeze, to pinch, to tighten. fWhip frantically tried shaking the thing off, pawing at it, anything, anything to get it off. The vine was nearly half way up his forearm now, sprouting and growing and squeezing. fWhip could hear his own breathing increase in speed, even as the thing seemed to have a mind of it's own.

Gem, he thought, she can help. Please, let her be able to help. As fast as he could, he began running, sprinting out of his storage hall. To his twin. To anyone who could stop this thing from growing.

It was under his skin now. It was seething. It was in his veins. It was his veins. He was almost cradling his right arm now. It seemed to be on fire, the red flames of pain spiking, slithering all the way up his arm. It was to his shoulder even as he shot off the ground as soon as there was an empty spot in the sky for him.

It was under his skin. It was crawling up his jaw. The corruption reached a cut under his eye he hadn't noticed was there. And it burned.

Please, whatever gods may be out there, fWhip prayed, make it stop.

The sky was blurring with red, tilting like a corrupted scale. The tinkerer could feel his body tipping as he flew over his starter base. Despratley, he spammed rockets like no other, but to no avail.

“No, no, no no no no,” fWhip hissed, desperate, the sound of his own corrupted heartbeat in his ears. This wasn't real. Xornoth was tricking him. Nothing was wrong. But everything was wrong. All of it was. He could taste the vines in his mouth. This wasn't right. It was wrong. It was bad. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. By Aeor’s name it hurt.

fWhip hadn't realized how close he was to the ground he was until he crashed into the snow of the mountain range.

Rocks, tree roots, snow, branches, vines were everywhere. The stone grated against his back, the snow doing nothing to smooth any of the pain down. Suddenly he was coughing, hacking, desperate for this thing to get out of him.

The world was shifting, he felt dizzy, the ground was swaying this way and that, even as he pushed himself onto his stomach, using an arm to hold him up as he spat into the snow.

“Get it out of me, please, please just get it out,” it was a whispered prayer that none would hear. The corruption was everywhere now, even crawling down upon his self-made wings. The world was red but white, corrupted yet grounded, hot but freezing. He was stuck between two worlds--that of Xornoth and his. Or was it some other force? Some sort of other entity?

It didn't matter to fWhip.

Suddenly, there was a figure with him in the snow. An unfamiliar one, but somehow he knew exactly what it was. He could barely look up at the demon as he continued to hack and spit red into the snow. It was all red. Red vines, red demons.

Red blood.

“What do you want from me?” fWhip spat, trying desperately in between breaths to shuffle away. It didn't work. He could only see the clawed feet of the creature as it creeped ever closer. Only right in front of the cursed tinkerer did it stop.

It crouched down, the red hand reaching out to grab the man’s chin, forcing him to look at the demon.

“Its not what you have, you have to understand, dear Count,” the thing said, “its what you can get me.”

fWhip felt his stomach drop, like a fist of iron had grabbed it and tugged it down. The demon smiled with sharp teeth, and swung itself into his body, the tinkerer flown out to other way. Where his eyes once were were now red, and he could feel his spirit bonded with the demon’s. They shared a body, but like an older sibiling taunting the younger by holding an item out of their reach, fWhip tried and tried again to regain his body but to no avail.

There was nothing he could do as Xornoth hunted for his brother.

[burner937492]

Au where the WHOLE Wither Rose Alliance gets corrupted by Xornoth.

Sausage's story stays pretty much the same, minus the feeling bad part. All his friends are doing it, why should he feel bad! He's the most noticeably corrupted but he's also the least, he does have moments of clarity.

Gem is sort of in it out of curiosity. She's a bit strange already, so she doesn't quite clock Xornoth as dangerous when they first meet, so it's not even for learning to take him down.

Fwhip is admittedly there for the chaos. Xornoth does the whole tormenting thing to him and while freaked out, Fwhip LOVES it. He wants to learn to do that, he wants to torment people too!

Once again, Pearl is exactly how she is in Canon. She's not corrupted, but her friends are happy! And she gets a free sparring partner, it's a win win!

Jimmy never knows a day of peace again, but neither does Xornoth or Joey. They now have to command this unpredictable trio and by gosh the WRA will make it their problem.