#fluffic

[bokettochild]

Through The Keyhole, See Another Life

Inspired by the giant flannel I've been wearing for the last week and how happy it makes me. This popped into my head at work because of it so.... here you go!

Fandom: Linked Universe

Characters: Time, Legend Four

Words: 1,954

Rating: Gen

Summary: The Chain are visiting the ranch, and while most of the other boys are finishing their chores, Time stumbles across Four introducing Legend to one of his guilty pleasures.

"Four, no." 

Time glances up at the very firm voice echoing down the stairs. He’s not sure if the boys even know he’s come back to the main house yet, not with the guest room being on the backside of the house and unable to see the door and all. Usually, someone would have noticed the sound of the door opening, but all the other boys are outside with Malon, helping with the chores while their smithy and veteran rested inside. 

The battle in his world had been a hard one, and as much as fairies and potions can do, they seemingly can’t prevent Legend’s chronic pain or Four’s migraines, both of which had been worsening for days even before arriving at the ranch. Malon, naturally, had insisted that both boys be allowed to sleep in today, and given they’d still been curled up tight in bed, tense and stressed even while asleep, he’d been inclined to agree.  

It appears they’re awake now though, no doubt having found the breakfast laid just inside the door of their room for them, since no one had known if either would be willing to risk the stairs to find something while the rest of them were outside working. Still, he’d probably better check. He's been a bit worried about the two, and now that Malon has ordered him inside (he honestly wasn’t kicked that hard! The cows are just big!) he has plenty of time on his hands while the rest of his boys finish their assigned chores under his wife’s guidance. 

“Why on earth not?” The smithy’s voice is a bit higher as it trails down the stairs to where he’s shucking off his boots and stretching out his back, feeling every one of his years, even the ones that technically didn’t happen. 

Legend’s sigh is audible even through the floorboards, a soft groan probably accompanying a motion. “Because I don’t want to get in trouble?” 

There’s a part of time that wants to snort at the words; the two heroes sound like children arguing about pulling a prank on their parents, but then the fact that he and Malon would be said parents in that situation hits him and it’s not as funny. Additionally, these are teen heroes, the idea that Legend is wary about it means whatever Four wants to do is either very dumb, very silly, or very dangerous, and he’s not sure which is the worse scenario. 

He moves for the stairs, ears tuned closely to the door above, but feet quiet so they won’t hear him coming. 

“I do this all the time, it’s nice! Come on, you’d love it if you let yourself.” 

Okay then, less a worry, he pauses, listening. They’d probably resent that, but he’s curious now, and still a bit wary. He has to remind himself that Legend and Four are, in fact, two of the more level headed heroes- most of the time. At any rate, they’re usually pretty responsible, so even if he’s more used to Wild and Wind and (Hylia help him) Warriors, he really shouldn’t doubt them so much. 

“Yes,” the bed upstairs creaks, “but you’re you. I’m me. There’s a big difference in how they’d react to you doing this- heck, Twilight would probably think it’s cute from you, and Sky definitely would-” definitely not dangerous then, or risky, or likely to cause damage of any sort “-but it’d be a whole different story with me.” 

“You’re just scared to try.” Four taunts, headache clearly gone. 

The bed creaks, like someone’s flopped on it. “Four, I am in too much pain to sit through Twilight chewing me out for being an ‘asshole’ again.” There’s a tick in the vet’s voice, a small hitch on the offending title. Come to think of it, his pup does tend to call the vet that pretty frequently. 

Four doesn’t pause though, continuing his insistence on...whatever he’s insisting. “Then don’t touch Twilight’s things, he can’t be mad on someone else’s behalf.” 

“He is.” Legend clips back. “frequently.” 

Does his pup really chew the vet out that much? 

“Blame me,” the smithy suggests, off-handed.” 

The bed creaks again, a longer one, most likely as it’s resident shifts to face the smithy. He can imagine the deadpan tired stare and heavy sigh that likely touches their young vet’s face. “That’s the definition of an asshole move.” 

“Then let me say it was my fault.” 

“Again, you’re different. They‘d excuse it from you, but as a person with my own free will, they will blame me for-” 

“Oh stop being a stick-in-the-mud!” Four huffs, petulant almost. He must be in one of his more childish moods, no doubt Red’s fault. It happens from time to time when they’re in a safe place and the smithy isn’t constantly around the other heroes. He didn’t think Legend would be allowed to see it, but maybe he’s wrong about that, because the smithy’s voice definitely has picked up the mannerisms of his more emotional aspect. “Just take this and put it on!” 

Are they....is Four trying to get Legend to play dress up of some kind? 

“Is that Time’s?” It’s hesitant, guarded, wary.  

“He won’t mind, or notice either, I expect. He never does.” 

Is Four getting into his things without his knowing? Since when? Time’s feet start back up the stairs again, only to pause once more at the vet’s hesitant voice. 

“You sure he won’t crucify me or something?” 

Malon’s going to kill him. That’s the impression he’s giving these younger heroes? 

“Just do it,” Four huffs, “stop being a baby.” 

And of course, insulting Legend is no way to get him to make the smart decision, whatever it is they're on about. He sets up the stairs again, creeping to the door of the guest room once he's reached the second floor and peeking around the door frame. The door’s still shut, but it’s little trouble to turn the handle ever so slowly and push it open enough to see what’s going on inside. 

He’s not expecting what he sees. 

Four is standing in the middle of the room, Sky’s embroidered undershirt hanging off of him like a rather short dress as he stares at the vet who’s still sitting on the bed where Time had left both of them early this morning. The vet, in turn, has similarly shed his own sweaty clothes, which he can see tossed over a nearby chair, and the pink-haired teen is currently drowning in what he recognizes to be one of his own tunics. The collar isn’t laced yet, but the vet is currently yanking at it to stop it trying to slip off a shoulder, struggling though because the sleeves of the outfit seem to have utterly swallowed his hands. 

Four giggles. Red is definitely fronting, although the smile he sees on the smith’s face is more like Green’s. “Let me help.” 

  “It’s just the sleeves,” the other boy huffs, “I got it.” He doesn’t. 

Time finds himself stifling a chuckle as he watches the vet fumble and fuss, switching between trying to free his hands and trying to tighten the collar. Any worries that the two were up to anything nefarious have long since vanished, although his will to see what they’re doing hasn’t. 

They look like actual kids like this, Four decked out in stollen finery and Legend drowning in Time’s own clothes, much too big for him, to the point that with the next attempt to free his hands, long sleeves flap freely and loose in an effort of some sort (he can only presume) to make them fall down naturally. That effort though is quickly forgotten, the vet’s face loosening, softening somewhat, eyes wide as he pauses and then tentatively flaps the sleeves again. Four giggles, and Legend’s chuffing laughter follows it as he grins as his trapped hands and the excess fabric that shakes and snaps with his quick movements. 

“Welcome,” the smithy sounds, “to the wonders of over-sized clothes. You’re welcome.” 

“I hate you,” Legend sighs, but there's not a bit of actual malice in the words as he flops back against the pillows on the bed, seemingly having given up on trying to fit into Time’s clothes and instead accepting his fate. The boy’s face screws up a moment later in confusion though, and he lifts a hand to his face again with a frown, sniffing slightly at the shirt sleeve. 

Time desperately, desperately hopes that Four didn’t steal that from his travel bag or dirty laundry. Except, he must not have, because Legend’s face softens again, this time into a smile, and he curls up a bit, burying his face in the fabric with a little hum that is strangely out of place for the harsh veteran they all have come to know. More so though, is the way Legend rubs his face across the fabric, ears flapping. It’s strangely adorable. 

“Nice?” Four is definitely gloating. 

Legend’s face rises for a moment out of the sleeves, a whole different person than Time knows, bitter-sweet smile and flushed cheeks. “’t smells like home.” 

Something in his chest clenches violently. 

There’s no such reaction from the smith though, who just looks pleasantly surprised, but nods it off with a smile, moving a bit closer and settling on the bedside, careful not to stir it and earning a brief look of thanks from the vet who is, now that he looks, still a bit pale and carrying tension around his shoulders and eyes. “Really?” 

“Yeah” violet eyes fall down to stare at long sleeves, hand flapping slightly inside again, but not enough to do more than make the fabric shift and shuffle a bit. “Time must use the same aftershave as-” a pause, a twitch of the face into a frown. “It’s a familiar scent.” 

It’s also a new one. Malon had got it for him for their wedding anniversary last year. He forgets what she called it, but she loves it, so he does too. On the road, it hardly matters what he smells like, but it makes him think of her and, like the captain says, it’s good to do small things for yourself even when traveling and fighting and struggling. Life’s not much worth living if it’s all harsh and you deny yourself even the small joys accessible to you. For him, that joy is remembering how his wife beams and showers him with kisses once he’s fresh faced again, but in the room before him, it can also mean stealing your team-mates' too big clothes and curling up in them when you aren’t feeling your best. 

The smile that pulls across his face as Legend rolls over to face Four better, curled up tightly in himself as the smithy laughs about something, both looking peaceful, is also one of those things. 

For a moment, a precious, fleeting moment, he can almost forget the two boys in the bedroom across from his own are heroes who have to save the world. Instead, he can almost imagine them waking up there and joining farm chores every day. No pain brought on by whatever these two have faced would exist in such a world and instead they’d be free to run wild around the barnyard, racing to finish chores or pulling pranks and making mischief like boys their age should be doing. 

It’s a nice picture, and not even properly bitter-sweet, even though he knows it can’t be, because they're still there in front of him, peaceful and content and chattering quietly, one of his boys curled up in his shirt and the other in Sky’s, both discussing scents and colognes and what smells signal home. 

[decayedgender]

📖 〜 Fluffic !!

🧡 )) fluffic﹔ a gender relating to fluff in fanfiction . . .

── made by outsider ﾉ not a req ﾉ read my dni before interacting

[idkwhy13]

My metamorphosis begins

[insecateur]

confession

[cauldronofmorning]

Tbh macdennis where Dennis will manipulate and lead on if he wants something but tells Mac it’s not going to actually happen willingly is more interesting to me than fluff soulmates where everything will heal if they just got together. 🤷‍♀️

[monsterfloofs]

Couldn’t sleep, but I did get struck with the idea of doodling Werewolf snuggles. Imagine bed hogging dog, now imagine bed hogging dog 10x bigger, and that had me giggling the whole time I was drawing. The bottom left is my favorite one… Death by fluffication✨✨✨

[foxgirlsounds]

Got bitten by a foxgirl and it turned me from a dude into a foxgirl

Stages of Foxgirlification:

Stage 1: Noticeable hunger for tofu and bunny girls, followed by sensitive sensations around the tailbone and ears

Stage 2: Sudden fluffication, with ears growing tall and packed with fluff, followed by the initial growth of your first 3 tails

Stage 3: Intense need to play pranks on other girls, followed by additional tails

Stage 4: total foxgirlification

[biweeklyjoltiks]

please tell me how you draw such perfect fluffy specimens

Its easy just charge up the fluffication beam and hit fire !!

(But hasjhsa thank you aa, I just have that kind of art style)

[dragonboypaws]

*zaps you with the fluffication ray* you are a very fluffy dragon now.

Awwww yeeeee

[lethal-highway]

not to bitch about character misinterpretation on the character misinterpretation website but i expected bad when i went in

it's one thing to see people be horny for someone they really shouldn't. like look i dont have room to talk, i like terrible garbage men categorically, but there's a line somewhere and this crosses it

but that isn't what took me out, i hate-looked at all of it (even the fanfiction) and basically graded it in my head like a teacher

no, it was seeing shipping fanart that instantly did 200 psychic damage

shipping fanart that was so wildly out of character for BOTH people and so generically flufficized (complete with gibbering about "omg i cant even") that i have been materially harmed

[bokettochild]

Febuwhump Day 21 - Unresponsive

@kuroro-uwu Okay, I know I am LATE, but I did write it! I hope this suits your fancy!

Wordcount: 6,697

Rating: General

Summary: Minish Four and Fairy Hyrule go on a mini-expedition to seek out information. One minute, all is well, and the next- well, Four's not sure WHAT happened, but now he's got a passed out fairy on his hands and no clue what caused it.

(No warnings, this is all pure fluff)

-

They needed information. 

It really was as simple as that. They’ve been trying to learn anything they can about what’s happening to the worlds around them, but hylians are so often ignorant and their group is anything but subtle, so getting it without causing a stir has become something of an issue for the traveling heroes. 

It’s the weapons and armor, Legend tells them with a huff, and he’s not exactly wrong either. 

People do tend to become more wary when they see soldiers around in the country. 

He’d noticed it before, back when he hadn’t yet met the others. Carrying a sword put people on edge. An axe, a spear, or even a bow, out in the country, can be excused as a hunting tool or something to do with your trade. A sword though, a sword means that you are, undeniably, a fighter, and fighters don’t tend to go about armed unless there's danger around to be fought. So, correlation of swords to nearby danger makes people wary, and their group, all armed with swords, and many of them being intimidating looking persons, only further sets people ill at ease.  

Getting concrete answers from people who are questioning your intentions all the while isn’t easy, and by now, their group has sort of given up. Or rather, almost all of the others have; Four still has an ace up his sleeve. 

“I may have something I can try.” He states as the rest seem just about ready to give up for the day. 

Eyes turn to fix on him, various expressions of discouragement, frustration, disbelief, and exhaustion coloring the different shades of blue. It’s Legend that speaks though. “If it involves pretending to be a child, keep me out of it.” 

Twilight coughs into his fist, but his dark eyes sparkle. Simultaneously, Warriors rubs at his own brows, the captain following up their scholar’s words with his own. “What’s the idea, smithy? And please, do not say it requires-” 

“It’s a me thing,” he assures them. “You guys being around actually won’t work.” 

“No one is going off alone,” Time states, just at the same time as Warriors says: “What did we say about leaving the group behind?” Both men shoot glances at each other after, but then Four’s fixed with both stares, one tired and one firm, and neither wavering as he sighs. 

“It involves magic, and it won’t work with a second person.” 

Wild stares, pointed, but Twilight frowns. “S it what I think it is?” 

Abruptly, he remembers that Twilight does, in fact, know, and has known about this as long as he’s known the truth about the wolf. They hadn’t talked about it since, and he’s not exactly employed the magic since then, but Twilight had seen it all the same. “Yeah,” he nods, ignoring the confused looks from the others, “that thing.” 

“More secrets,” the captain sighs, “excellent.” 

A few eyes turn to the soldier, annoyed, but they can’t blame him. Four can’t either. It’s been a bit rough dancing around the new things falling on their heads when their brothers deem it the time to drop new knowledge out of nowhere. Even if he did know about the wolf, there’s still knowledge he hadn’t had about that one. 

“I’ll go with the smithy,” their rancher announces, turning to their leader. 

Time’s brows raise. “You have similar magic?” 

“Naw, but I can keep watch for him, an’ guard his back.” 

“No going off alone,” Warriors repeats, again, this time from behind a hand that’s scrubbing at his brows. “How may times must I say it?” 

But Twilight can’t come with, and neither can the others. No one else can because no one else can shrink down to the size of a minish! 

 If there’s anyone who will know what's going on across the kingdom at any given time, it’s always the little people. He knows they can give him answers even if no hylian will, but he’s not too eager to explain that. The other heroes might not even know about the minish, and if they do, the doubt on whether or not he should be able to see them still will linger or make them question his skill like they do with the sailor. Neither option is something he’s keen on. 

“I’ll go with,” and he doesn’t expect the traveler to speak up, but the other lad does, stepping forwards with an awkward half smile. “I’m decent with magic, so maybe I can replicate whatever you’re planning to do.” 

Given the choice between no answers and letting Hyrule in on it, he supposes the traveler is the better of the two options. The other lad is cheeky at times, but he’s capable, and trustworthy. Besides that, he’s kept so much secret about his own magic, to the point where they still have no clue about all of it. Surely, he can also keep Four’s secret as well, right? 

“Fine,” he nods to their curly haired companion before turning to their leader, expectant. 

Time sighs, glancing briefly at the captain, but then nods. “Be back at camp by dark.” 

“Understood.” 

- 

The good thing about working with Hyrule is that he’s good at following directions, and he never asks unnecessary questions. It’s clear he’s thinking them, of course, but he doesn’t talk too much, and he doesn’t push things with Four, not ever. It’s a bit of a welcome change of pace after having the heroes all up each others’ tails about so many things. 

They wander back through the village for a short while and into the inn and bar combo they’d been to with the rest. He knows the other two probably want to know what he hopes to achieve in here, even Twilight who knows his arsenal probably isn’t sure how it would be useful, but that’s not his main focus. 

They can ask their questions later. Right now, we need that portal. 

Where was it again, Vio? 

Left corner, floor level. Looks like a mouse hole. 

Well, it sort of is. Red snorts softly. It’s a minish hole. 

Very funny. Blue deadpans back. If he had his own eyes, he’d be rolling them, but all of Four knows it wouldn’t be in any real ire. That’s just how their more abrasive aspect is. 

Twilight and Hyrule are watching as he moves down to the corner. The rest of the folks within the inn don’t seem to even notice the trio, too busy with their own business. Those that do are carefully avoiding eye contact or even being caught staring, wary less they draw attention to themselves. It’s kind of sad, honestly, but Four doesn’t have time to dwell on it. 

Ezlo’s spell plays across his lips with the ease of a thousand speakings, and in seconds he’s down to his other normal size. 

Twilight grins down at him. 

Hyrule gapes for a moment. “Is this what you were talking about?” He asks, as though it’s not rather painfully obvious. Before Four can answer though, the traveler’s face twists up into a grin, eyes sparking. “Alright, I- I can work with this.” 

It’s his own turn to gape as the traveler himself mutters a few words, and in a brief cloud of magic, the young man is gone, replaced instead by the shimmering, hovering light of a fairy. 

Four stares. Twilight does as well. 

The ball of light laughs. “You said it yourself, we’re all sitting on something, smithy.” 

“Ordonia’s kids,” the rancher murmurs softly, “’fore we know it everyone will out ‘emselves as a shifter of some sort.” Neither of the other two have any knowledge of how true that rings, but regardless, they don’t exactly have any grounds to deny it either, considering it seems to be true of their little trio at least. 

Finally reclaiming control over speech, Four turns his face upwards to stare at his flying brother. Inside his head, Red is exclaiming in delight over the flight, Blue marveling at the wings, and Green ecstatic at the presence of a fellow shifter to match Four’s size, but outside his head, he has to focus. “This hole here should lead to a community of people more on the magical side.” he nods to the gap in the wall, starting a bit when the fairy’s light flickers and zips down to be level with him. 

It’s definitely Hyrule, although the change from Hylian to fairy is more than just a shift in size. He’s not sure which set of eyes to focus on or how to react to other definitely not hylian features displayed beside familiar ones, but Vio somehow wrests enough control to keep his face straight and his jaw in place. 

“It might take a bit, but the gossip vine is strong with these folks. They should have what we want to know.” 

“Excellent,” Hyrule trills, voice more melodic, but pleasantly so. It has the smithy’s ears flicking forwards to catch it better, the warm fairy magic settling his own. 

He glances up to Twilight, still normal sized and crouched in the corner, practically looming over them. “We’ll be back before dark. Just wait here, okay?” 

A thumbs up is their answer, and the rancher stands, hailing a server in the barroom and claiming the table closest to their future exit as the two smaller heroes- and by now they are much smaller- pop through the hole in the wall to move along to their destination. 

Minish passages are nothing new to Four, but Hyrule keeps gasping in surprise and delight as he looks about the lever and pulley systems between one part of the network and another. It has the smithy smiling to himself, and while it’s not his own work, he does take pride in the efforts of his little friends, and their skill, which he’s sure to share with the only other hylian (sort of hylian?) to get to see it firsthand. 

 “Inns like this are hotspots for minish too, just like people,” he explains to his wide-eyed companion. “They catch rides on wagons or in people’s bags sometimes, and, just like us, they need a place to stay when they tire.” He pads along carefully to the lift made from an old cup and some twine, climbing up into it and almost reaching out to offer a hand to the traveler, only to catch himself when he remembers the other has wings. “A big place like this is sure to house practically a city of minish, so it might take some time, but we’ll have lots of options when it comes to asking around for information.” 

The traveler nods, gaze flicking to the little lever just inches from the smithy’s tiny paw. The signal is clear. 

Four pushes the lever, and the lift starts its ascent, the fairy flying up behind him even as they watch another such lift lower, granting Hyrule his first sight of a real minish. The traveler’s catching breath and little gasp makes him smile, but he’s careful to warn the other the moment the other lift is out of sight. “Remember not to call anyone cute, okay? If anything, be prepared for them to call you that. They're not very used to fairies.” 

“Understood,” the traveler’s voice is distant as he looks around, words almost an afterthought as he seemingly takes in the whole of the new world he’s discovering. 

He won’t be much help, will he? 

He’s here so we’re not alone, Green sighs, although there’s no lack of fondness in his tone, He doesn’t need to help us, just be here so Time and Warriors won’t get upset. 

He won’t be able to understand the minish anyway, the more sedate aspect reminds the others, he’s never eaten a jabber nut. 

Right. 

Perhaps he should have remembered that earlier, but he wasn’t exactly planning on taking Hyrule this far along when he’d agreed to keep the traveler with him. If anything, he’d expected the other to wait with Twilight while he took care of the reconnaissance. Still, it should be alright, Hyrule seems content to stare about at the thrumming new world he’s witness too, and he lets Four take the lead as the smithy climbs out of the lift and starts towards the minish puttering about. 

Greetings rise here and there and everywhere, although no one seems to recognize him. If anything, that proves they’re not in his era, so even the small things mean something (as a small thing himself, the thought makes him laugh). Still, he guides the way, Hyrule fluttering after him and attracting many a startled stare. In the long run, he thinks Hyrule’s presence works to his favor, because while a minish stopping by at an inn and wandering about a new place is hardly anything to look twice at, a minish with a fairy trailing after him garners much attention, and before they know it, a very elderly looking member of the community approaches. The staff in his paw marks him as an Elder, and while the traveler doesn’t know that, he still bows his head politely at the sight of long flowing whiskers. 

“Greetings, strangers.” The elder smiles. 

Four bows, politely. Hyrule cannot, not while flying, but he thinks the respectful bob of the head the traveler offered will be enough. Minish are polite, but they aren’t fussy about others needing to be so. Well, those who aren’t Ezlo. “Greetings, elder.” 

“Greetings, elder.” Hyrule mimics, words a soft chime that echos off the interior of the inn’s walls. 

The elder smiles again, thanking them for their kind welcome. “Forgive my asking, but what is it that brings two youngsters like yourselves here?” 

“We seek knowledge of the world outside.” Four answers, because obviously Hyrule can’t. “We are travelers through time, and this era is new to us.” 

“Ah.” 

“We have hylian companions who need knowledge in order to travel safely, so we hoped to come here and inquire what there is to be known of the world outside.” 

His explanation is met with some surprised twitching of noses and flicking of ears, little murmurs all around them, excitedly twitching tails flicking all sorts of colors from the many gathered minish peoples, but he pays them little mind, although Hyrule stares about in awe. The elder welcomes them though to speak to any they would like. “I have not been in the outside world for some time now, but we have many travelers, like yourselves. Please, ask all you would like. I hope we are of aid to you young heroes.” 

It’s only when he’s watching the elder’s tail disappear into the crowd again that he realizes at all that they should not have been recognized as heroes. Then again, Minish Elder’s are proficient in magic most times, and maybe he’d sensed it. At any rate, the title seems to spark excitement among those gathered around the two heroes, and it’s no trouble at all to find who he should speak to. In fact, it’s more a matter of them trying to speak to him all at once! 

Hyrule hovers at his shoulder as he asks questions and talks. Well, he does at first, but after a few minutes, the fae drifts away, looking around curiously, soft chiming voice echoing back to Four here and again from different parts of the space claimed by magic.  

He’s able to learn there’s no hero known about in this era, and that the last one that anyone remembers was a little boy who was close to the fairies. Considering the fondness all his brothers have for all creatures magical, it’s not a very specifical descriptor, but it’s something at least. Maybe one of the others will be able to pinpoint who it is talking about, be it themselves or someone else they’ve heard of. He does learn though, that the world isn’t in the best of shapes. Dark magic is common, a side effect of Ganon’s power, despite the fact that the monster is sealed away. 

That, he decides to ask about. 

Most of the minish don’t have answers, saying they avoid it, saying they only heard it from someone else, but pressing them leads him on a bit of a goosechase all over the building, looking for this person who knows more and that one who does as well. 

Like hylians, minish have many a trade, and a place like this is basically their equivalent to a trade city, even if the hylian town around it is rather small. Packed up in one building, but spread across rooms, attic spaces, the cellar, the larder, and even the bar itself, he finds himself hunting down leads and doing a few favors in order to get what he needs to know. He's halfway through delivering some mushrooms in exchange for more details on the dark magic that apparently lies around the world, when Hyrule’s soft glow returns to his side again. 

“Four, I think we need to head back.” 

He sighs. “I know, but I’ve got a lead.” 

“We could come back tomorrow?” 

A shake of the head as he adjusts his hold on the mushroom; it’s huge in comparison to himself. “No, apparently they’re leaving at dawn with the coach that stops here.” 

Hyrule’s feet touch the ground, wings stilling. Honestly, he thought fairies flew everywhere, but he supposes that a shapeshifter might use various methods. “Four, we have to go back.” 

“I’m this close to getting answers,” he drops his shroom to pinch two claws close together. “Just a bit longer, okay? Time will understand.” 

He’s not sure what time it is, but the noise of patrons in the inn does carry slightly past the magic of the minish to sound in his ears. Inns and bars are always noisy, especially when combined, but while he’s not their old man, his inner clock isn’t bad either. They have time before sunset, and if they didn’t, he wouldn’t have risked trying this at all. 

“Come on,” he urges. “Help me with this shroom. The sooner I deliver it, the sooner this guy will tell me what I need to know.” 

Hyrule’s face is pinched, and briefly it registers that something isn’t quite right about it, but it’s hard to tell with changed features and maybe it’s just worry from the traveler. He dismisses it, promising both Hyrule and himself that they’ll only take a very little bit longer. 

- 

They deliver the shroom, but in true runabout fashion, the only knowledge he gets from the minish in question is a few wary words that had been heard from someone else entirely, and he’s sent darting across the inn again to try and find that other minish before they too decide to leave. It’s the frustrating thing about communities like this, rather than the ones he finds in the countryside. Minish who make their homes in the forest, the grass, or even up in the mountains and quarries, they all keep to their own space. Traveling minish, those in small towns and hylian communities, are often unpredictable from one day to the next, and there’s no telling when or where you’ll have a chance to see them. 

Hyrule tries asking again, telling him that they really need to get going, but Four brushes him off. One or two minutes more. Just a bit. He���s almost done, he promises! 

The traveler’s feet are dragging a bit as he follows the smith, and his wings have long since folded against his back. It’s clear he’s tired, and Four is too, but they’ve only got so many chances to learn what they need to know, and passing this up would be foolish. It would make this whole trip into the world of the minish utterly pointless! 

Finally, though, he’s able to find someone who doesn’t send him on an errand, who doesn’t ask for anything he doesn’t already have and who is both willing and capable of answering his questions. Near immediately, Four dugs a notebook from his bag and starts asking. How strong is this dark magic? Has it affected any monsters? Have monsters been a prominent problem recently? Are they acting oddly? Does the magic have any effects on anything else?  

The minish, who in an odd way reminds him of Time; a prominent scar running over one eye and with a shredded ear on the same side, answers his questions. The magic effects the water and the land, and monsters are more abundant now than they had been years ago. They get worse every year, and they are stronger than the elders say they used to be. None of it lines up with the supposed infection of the monsters in other eras, but Four is not ruling it out as a possible source or contributor. He keeps asking, getting more details, channeling his more pragmatic self, but also the tactful part. He needs to think of this as a traveler, a fighter, and a survivor. In a way, he tries asking what Legend or Warriors or Twilight might ask. What would Wild want to know? What would Time need answers too? He’s going to be the one passing on this information to them after all, so he needs to be ready for the inevitable questions they’re going to have. 

He sort of forgets that Hyrule is still waiting for him. Really, the only reason he remembers at all is because his informant tells him that it’s getting late, and she can’t think anymore. “That should cover everything anyway, I hope it helps.” 

He bows his head, still sitting, so he can’t offer a proper bow, even though he wants to. “Of course. Thank you so much for your help.” 

She waves a farewell to him before heading off to wherever it is that she’s going to rest for the night. He’s seen beds around, but didn’t ask, and never does. Honestly, he should be heading back, because bed sounds fantastic right about now! He turns, stuffing his notebook back in his bag, only to stop short when he sees the traveler. 

Hyrule looks like shit. 

The fairy is slumped over, glow almost gone and while there’s no apparent injury, no sign of what on earth would cause him to look so, he looks a bit like death! The smith drops down beside his friend, catching the fae’s face in his hands and patting freckled cheeks cautiously. “Hyurle? Hey! Hey, I’m done. We can go back now.” 

There’s no answer. 

Despite knowing Hyrule was fine before, knowing the minish would never harm him, probably couldn’t without special magic, he still gives the other a once over. There are no visible injuries, nor blood. His eyes, when pried open with claws that struggle so hard not to slip, don’t show signs of being concussed. For all intents and purposes, Hyrule isn’t hurt, but his skin is pale, the fairy’s glow is absent, and he slumps almost lifelessly against the walls. 

We need help. Green sighs, desperately trying to balance his thoughts. 

Blue’s voice is low, straining. The elder? 

Is he going to be okay? 

Hush Red, and Blue, the elder can’t do anything for a fairy. Minish magic is too different. 

Well, we could try at least! 

Guys, please. No fighting. We need to focus on Hyrule. 

Blue seethes, but doesn’t argue, something he’s been doing much better with as of late. Vio on the other hand, does continue his stance. We should take him back to Twilight. Maybe he can help. 

But Twi doesn’t like magic! 

But he is Time’s kid, and he loves fairies. Maybe he knows something about them that we don’t. Come on. 

The logic of his logical facet wins over the rest of him, and for lack of a better course of action, the minish hero hefts his fairy brother up into his arms. Hyrule’s still bigger than him like this, but he’s also always been very light, and the smith is strong. Gathering his brother up onto his back, careful not to crush iridescent wings, he heads back for the lift. 

- 

Catching Twilight’s attention is hard, once they’re back out in the world of Hylians. His intent originally had been to shift back with a murmur, but he doesn't know how to trigger the change for Hyrule, and without a glow to aid him, he’s not sure how quickly he’d be able to find the traveler again after the shift to his normal size, which always leaves him just a bit disoriented. That, and if it turns out Hyrule needs help of the more hands-on sort, it’s more practical to stay on the same scale as the traveler in order to give it. 

Luckily for him, and the traveler, he has lots of experience in trying to make himself heard, and while the sound of a screaming voice would definitely draw unwanted attention, there is a sound he knows will, without fail, catch the rancher’s attention without scaring other people. Four sucks in a breath, and with all the ability he’s got in him, he pushes it out in a sharp little ‘meow’. 

Twilight’s ears prick up immediately, the rancher lowering the drink he was holding to scan the area around him, eyes glittering. 

Four tries again, a soft ‘mew’ that takes every bit of breath he has but has bright blue eyes fixing on him in seconds.  

Twilight chuffs, looking slightly disappointed, but also relieved. Well, until his eyes land on the traveler, and then the man is sliding from his chair to crouch, facing the wall and shielding the two small heroes from sight. “What happened?” he asks, offering a hand laid flat on the ground before them. 

Typically speaking, Four does not care to be picked up, especially like this, but for the traveler’s sake, he allows it. Stepping onto the rough pads of the rancher’s fingers is a bit of a struggle with his hands supporting the fae slumped over his back, nd after failing twice he gives up. Instead, he turns and carefully lets his brother slip down into Twilight’s hand first, crawling after him once he’s got use of his hands again. 

The rancher waits until they’re both stable, Four holding Hyrule with one hand and fisting a tiny fold of his glove with the other, before he stands again, carefully steady as he heads back to his table. “Is he okay?” 

Four shakes his head. “I don’t know. He’s not injured, and I don’t think he’s concussed, but he just-” his gaze drops down to the freckled face cradled in his lap, “-I turned around and he wasn’t moving anymore.” Breathing, yes, softly and slowly, almost too slowly, but it was steady, and considering he doesn’t know how fairy bodies work, maybe that was how it was meant to be. He’s not sure, and he hates not knowing, but as long as Hyrule is still breathing, things will be okay. Goddesses, he hopes he’ll be okay! 

Glancing up at the rancher, he sees furrowed brows and a harsh frown. It’s not angry, not fierce, but guilt plummets through him all the same as he watches it. 

There’s silence for a spell, just blue eyes staring down at him as he sits in the rancher’s hand, Hyrule pulled into his lap, wings still behind him without so much as the slightest of twitches. The traveler’s breath is shallow but steady as it puffs against his collar. And then Twilight speaks. “Did he maybe touch something weird?” 

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t watching him, but this Hyrule, not Wild.” Hyrule doesn’t touch unknown things, not without taking every precaution to ensure they’re not dangerous. Besides, minish don’t tend to keep anything dangerous around, and if they do, it’s well hidden and out of sight. Even lacking experience with other living beings, Hyrule isn’t the sort of person to go poking around other people’s possessions in plain sight. No, he’d wait until no one was around to see or stop him, and then he’d get into their stuff. 

The rancher’s frown deepens, but then midnight blue eyes are falling on Four again, something almost apologetic in their depths. “Look. I don’t got a clue, smith, but we gotta get him help.” The unspoken rings in the air between them: ‘we need to talk to someone else who knows about this stuff, and that means telling them your secret’. 

He sighs, nodding. “Time seems to know the most about fairies.” 

The rancher’s head jerks in a sharp nod, rupees hitting the table as the man pays for his drink and then he’s whisking them out the door and back towards camp. 

- 

It feels like it takes forever for Twilight to return with Time. 

Rather than announce their presence, and thus secrets, to the whole chain, he’d carefully settled the two tiny heroes on an old tree stump at Four’s instruction. Vaguely, he thinks it might be a minish portal, or close to one, but that’s something to worry about later. For now, he’s looking after Hyrule as best he can in a cave made from the rancher’s pelt, erected for their protection against any predators while the other fetches their leader under the premise of Hyrule and Four needing to talk with him. The rest will worry, and have questions, but they’ll (probably) respect the privacy of the other two, if only as long as they’re gone. Returning to camp will, no doubt, come with questions, but right now, helping Hyrule is what matters most. He’ll handle anything that comes after, as long as the traveler will be okay. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into brown curls, not for the first time since Twilight left, “just hang in there, traveler, okay? Time will be here soon, and we’ll get you all fixed up.” 

He dutifully ignores how dark hair darkens further in the fading light of twilight. How the hand that's fallen to brush his leg has claws at the fingers, that as the shadows grow longer, he could almost pretend he’s holding somebody else. No, he focuses on Hyrule and that it is, in fact, Hyrule he’s clutching ahold of under the fur, waiting for their leader to come to them. 

Time’s puffing breath announces his presence, alongside heavy feet to match the easy lope of their rancher. The way that he heaves for breath, he really does sound like an old man, but when the fur is moved aside and Four can see their leader’s face, he rethinks that. Time looks worried, terribly worried, and the heavy breathing is probably from a slight panic rather than anything else. Hylia above, what did Twilight tell him? 

“What happened?” Time demands, even as Four shivers slightly at the return of the breeze the fur had blocked off. 

He sighs, tired, worried, and tired of being worried. “Hyrule collapsed. I don’t know why, but he’s not waking up no matter what I do.” 

The blue arrow painted between their leader’s brows distorts as his face pinches up, the man dropping to a knee with surprising grace in order to be better level with the two shrunken heroes. “Is he injured?” 

Twilight shakes his head. “Four already checked.” 

A hand, slightly smaller than Twilight’s own, but somehow more callused, is extended towards them. Even that motion is more graceful from their old man than from the rancher, and Four is surprised by the lack of panic having it settle before him causes. “Let me look at him?” 

It’s work to climb up again, shifting Hyrule with all the care he can before depositing him in the old man’s palm, but he does it. Time doesn’t say anything as the man pulls in their precious cargo a bit closer, staring down with his good eye and prodding gently at the fallen form of the traveler. 

 Behind him on the stump, Four feels Twilight settle, blocking off the breeze and providing a wall of warmth that assures nothing else will appear behind him. “Well?” 

“Shh.” Time breathes, but it’s not harsh. His gaze is incredibly gentle in fact, and as he handles the tiny form in his hand something impossibly warm lights his blue eye beneath the worried furrow of his brows. They wait. It feels like forever, but they wait, and they don’t press until, at last, their leader lifts his eyes to them instead, relief coloring his expression. “Magical exhaustion.” 

“No,” Four shakes his head. “I’ve seen Hyrule overuse his magic. He gets tired, but he doesn’t turn.... grey. And he doesn’t stop moving!” 

“That’s when he’s a hylian,” one blue eye drops again, a sad little smile tugging at the mouth of the elder man. “As a fairy, it works differently.” The hand lowers, moving close to Four again, offering him the responsibility of taking back his unconscious brother while Time turns his attention to his bag. “Transformation magic takes a lot out of a fairy. For Hyrule, being a fairy would be the transformation, but if, for some reason, he’d been brought into a space where only tiny beings could exist, rather than changing back when his magic runs out,” the potion’s cork pops loudly in the night air, “he’d get stuck.” 

“Stuck?” He and Twilight chorus together. 

Time nods. “Yes. His magic knows he can’t change back inside a tiny space, but if it’s run out, then he can’t maintain his form normally either. Instead, he has to draw directly on his magical core, which strains him considerably. That’s why usually, when fairies are weak enough to need to pull on their core, they slip into a hibernation so that their magic can keep them alive at the least cost to their core.” As if sensing the inevitable question, the man adds, “drawing on a core for too long damages it.” 

“So...” Twilight blinks, speaking for them both. “He’s in hibernation?” 

“For now.” 

“How do we fix it?” Blue takes the reins, and the others let him. 

The old man raises the potion bottle in his hand. In the faded light, Four can’t make out the color (how appropriate) so he waits to hear it spoken. “A green potion ought to help restore his magic and stop him drawing on his core for survival.” 

“Then he’ll change back?” 

He sees their leader wince, and Twilight does too, shoulders tightening above him. “He will change back, right, old man?” 

Time avoids their gazes, reaching for his bag again. “Not without doing it himself, but he should, yes.” 

“Good.” 

“We just have to wait until he wakes up.” 

“And...how long will that take?” 

A flinch. “Even with his magic restored, it’s unlikely he’ll come back immediately. He’ll need time.” If Legend were here, or Wild, one of them would point out that their leader is here now, so what else could be needed? But they’re not here, and neither Twilight nor Four speaks up in their place.  Instead, Four stares as Time produces something else, settling it before him carefully, before lifting his hand away. With nothing blocking him, he’s able to see that the object set before him is a thimble, “I think you ought to help him with the potion, Four. At his current size, we’re more likely to harm than help.” Which isn’t true at all. 

In reality, Time helps quite a bit as he pours out the potion (that they all claim is green) into the thimble, which is far more manageable for Four to lift. Situating the traveler against his front, he has to fumble a bit to get the rim to his brother’s mouth, but Time’s finger helps steady the traveler while he does so, stopping him sliding away from the smithy’s front or his head falling to either side. It’s awkward, when he actually stops to think about it, but they make it work. 

After the first thimble, Time pours three more, which is honestly more than Four thinks he could hold in his own body at this size, but the old man assures that it’s basically liquid magic, and the traveler will need lots in order to wake again. “Four thimbles might not be enough, but we’ll see.” He tells them, once more taking the traveler in his own hold, hand cradling the limp form of the fairy with all the care he’d show a baby. More, maybe. Fairies are smaller than babies, so they are a bit more delicate. 

“What now though?” He asks, watching. 

Time’s gaze falls on him in answer. “Do you need help shifting back?” 

“Should I?” 

“If you can.” 

“And if he needs more of the potion?” 

“He won’t,” the hand holding his brother tilts slightly, although Time needs not lower it at all for Four to see the faint shimmer of green light that the fairy within is emitting. “I think that was enough. I’ll have him drink the bottle when he’s changed back, but you don’t need to help any further, smithy.” 

He nods.  

Finding a portal in the dark takes some help from Twilight, but once he has, and has shifted back, it’s a breath of fresh air. Returning to their leader’s side though, he finds the man now seated on their previous stump, gaze fixed on the tiny, unmoving, but also unwavering, glow in his hands. 

“Is he waking up?” He asks, slipping from Wolfie’s back to stand at their leader’s side. At this size, Hyrule looks even tinier, and so much more breakable in Time’s big hand. He’s not moving though, still. 

Time shakes his head though, as though the smithy can’t see for himself. “As I said, he’ll need a while to come around.” Blue lifts, and it’s strange to have their leader level with himself. “You boys should head back to camp. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

“What about you?” Shadows slip free of the wolf, leaving the rancher standing in it’s place, brows furrowed and voice low. 

Time’s gaze drops to his precious cargo, a tiny, almost tender smile touching his features. “I’ll wait for him. Tell the rest that Hyrule needed my time a bit longer, but we’ll be back when he’s ready.” 

So, they do.  

They head back to camp, joining the others for dinner just as Wild’s beginning to serve it. There are questions, and he still is yet to make his report, but doing so is a quick way to divert attention from their absent leader and wanderer. Later, Time will come back, a sleepy, but normal sized Hyrule curled in his arms, face buried against his chest as the traveler dozes, but for now, the camp muses over the information they were given. Any questions on how he’d gotten this knowledge are lost to worry about Hyrule’s absence, and any fear for Hyrule is lost to questions about the report Four gives. 

When Time does come back, it’s only after Warriors has assigned shifts and most of them have at least pretended to go to bed. Their leader’s return has them all watching though, no longer pretending as their eyes, so many shades of blue, follow Time’s path through camp to his bedroll, to Hyrule’s settled beside it at Warriors behest. The man settles the traveler down carefully, but the hand caught in his tunic isn’t pulled free, instead tolerated as long hair is brushed back from freckled cheeks and their leader settles down beside the younger hero. 

Even when his good eye slips shut, there’s something warm playing on Time’s face as Hyrule unconsciously nestles up against him once more, and a callused hand becomes lost in dark curls. 

Twilight’s gaze meets his own, something like a smile in them as he shrugs, disrupting his blanket. Four just smiles back, shaking his head. Fairy boys, the unspoken thought flickers in both of their heads. It’s only when he lays down again though that he realizes that Time might even be who the minish meant when talking about the last hero. 

Well, that would make sense. He’ll ask tomorrow though, right now, he has no interest in disturbing either of the two heroes. 

[idkwhy13]

Are you winning son?

[i-miss-balthazar]

It happened so fast - one second Dean was just standing in front of the impala talking to Cas, the next second Cas’s lips were on his. The worst part was, despite him desperately wanting to, he didn’t kiss back. He was frozen with shock. As Castiel drew away, the angel avoided Dean’s gaze. Dean’s jaw hung open as his brain struggled to comprehend what had just happened. Unfortunately, in his stunned silence, Castiel saw disgust, and with a flutter, he was gone. Suddenly, Dean could move again, as a wave of horror hit him. Oh god, what had he done? The one thing he had been craving for so long... and Cas thought he didn’t want it. How could he be so stupid? Why couldn’t he have said anything? Why couldn’t he have kissed back? Dean felt like an idiot or an absolute asshole. Now Castiel was probably thinking that Dean hated him for that. Just as quickly as his heart had begun to soar when Castiel’s lips pressed against his, Dean’s heart fell back to earth. He had just ruined it. Their first kiss, and he ruined it. He knew he needed to talk to Cas... but what the hell was he going to say?! With a sigh, Dean headed into the impala to drive, in hopes it would calm his mind.

It didn’t.

It must’ve been an hour before Dean made his way back to the motel where him and Sam were staying. Sam had stayed back to research while Cas and Dean went to check things out... Castiel was probably in there right then, telling Sam about what they had found. Dean parked the car, unsure whether or not he was ready to face Castiel. He was so ashamed of himself; he had hurt Cas. How could he? Sucking in a deep breath, he opened the door. He knew he’d have to face Cas sooner or later. He was merely delaying the inevitable.

Dean hesitated once more as his hand rested on the motel door knob. He could hear two voices inside. One undoubtedly belonging to Castiel. Shutting his eyes, Dean sighed softly, before turning to door handle and entering the room. Sam was in the middle of explaining something to Castiel, so he only gave Dean a quick nod of acknowledgement. Cas on the other hand... he turned his full attention to Dean, his sad blue eyes burning into Dean’s forest green ones. Dean wished he could unsee the heartache that lingered within those ocean pools. This was a mistake, he shouldn’t be there. Awkwardness hung in the air between them so thick you could almost see it. 

“I’m going for a drink.” Dean mumbled, dropping the duffel bag on the nearest bed before turning and heading back to the car without looking back. He didn’t want to see that look in Castiel’s eyes again. He fired up Baby once more, and drove to the local Gas ‘n Sip, grabbing a pack of beer before starting to drive once more. He drove until the town ended, and the road was surrounded by trees, before pulling over and sitting on the hood of the impala with a beer in hand. Self loathing piled in Dean’s gut as he mentally relived the moment. What was wrong with him? He had been trying to work up the courage to kiss Cas for a long time, but when Cas managed to do it, all he could do was FREEZE? What-- Dean’s thoughts were cut off by the sound of a flutter. He shut his eyes tightly, summoning every ounce of courage he had to face the angel. 

“Dean...” Cas rumbled, his eyes not rising to meet Dean’s. Dean didn’t speak, not wanting to mess things up further. “I came to apologize.” He continued. Dean frowned, sliding off the hood of the impala and putting his beer down. “I shouldn’t have... done that. Or I at least should’ve asked firs-” 

Dean couldn’t listen to Castiel beat himself up over it anymore, so he shut him up in the best way possible; with a kiss. A sigh of relief escaped Castiel, separating their lips slightly before Dean hungrily shut the distance again. Warm hands reached out, resting on Dean’s waist. Dean melted into the touch, wrapping his own arms around Castiel to secure him into the kiss. 

After a drawn out moment, Cas draws away, the smile on his face bright enough to light up the night sky. Admiration glittered in Dean’s eyes as he gazed at the angel. 

“Dean...” Cas began, clearly searching for a way to fill the silence. 

“Just shut up and kiss me.” Dean chuckled, craving more of Castiel’s intoxicating touch. Gladly, Castiel joined their lips once more.

@alyssabarton @thetrxckster

[crystal-rebellion]

The Waltz

They say war is a dance. A pirouette, an arabesque. Peace has settled upon the galaxy as the Drule Empire and Galaxy Alliance come to shaky, but gentle terms. An unlikely couple finds themselves meeting each other for the first time, not on the battlefield, but upon the dance floor... (Lotor x Allura) (One-shot)

Fandom: Voltron: Defender of the Universe Genre: Fluff, Romance Rating: General Couple: Lotor/Allura

Allura exhaled and turned around, ready to look for the next familiar face to catch up with.

Her heart froze in her throat when she found Prince Lotor standing a mere foot away from her, his arms crossed over his chest and a guarded expression on his face as he studied her intently.

A moment fluttered between them; Allura stood calm, watching him, waiting for his first move while he stood regal and calculating, assessing her tense expressions.

His lips broke into a grin as the musicians ended one song. In a lavish flourish, he extended his hand toward her in a manner that made her step back in alarm, afraid it would latch on to her.

It did not.

Allura slowly raised her eyes from his offered palm to his face, open concern on her features.

"A dance," he explained, answering her unspoken question.

Find it on AO3

[sybilius]

baby steinway

Part (1/3) of a self-indulgent fluffy MacGyver Mactrio fic I’m working on. Figured I might as well workshop it here, happy Sunday Six!

*

A truly incredible notion, how little the state of his apartment has changed in the year or so that Murdoc has been...involved, should he put it? With MacGyver and Dalton, no less. Or Jack, rather. 

He picks up an older floral lace shirt, one which he in fact had used recently. It served his employer’s purposes to have a woman in the secretary’s desk when it would set the clients at ease. And the practice was nice to keep in hand. At least gave some measure of purpose to the mountain of clothes in the bedroom. 

The weapons on the other hand, he’d barely begun to redistribute. Not to mention the books, which he was disturbed to realize he hardly remembered buying or reading, nor the excess of ostentatious effects that were ever so fitting in that crumbling mansion he bought…

"Hey Murdoc! These real gold?" 

Murdoc poked his head out of the bedroom, to see Jack brandishing a candlestick excitedly, "you know what these are worth? Where did you get em?"

"...don't particularly remember." 

"Oh well, you want to keep em, I'm sure we could find somewhere in Mac's house they'd fit…" Jack's uncertainty was clear enough, but it did spark remembrance of when he'd purchased them. For that dinner set at MacGyver's home. Arguably the scene where it all began. 

"Keep one. If you find a way to sell any others, that's fine by me."

"Putting it in the discard box, only this one is for me! Jack box. Heh," Jack scrawls his name on the side. 

Murdoc nods, turning his attention back to the pile of clothes. He'd offered that deal to MacGyver, when he was going through their plans. There would be three types of items, those to be discarded (or sold at a substantial markup, if Jack would have his way), those to be stored in Jack's hangar, and those to end up in the small space of MacGyver's houseboat. 

Moving in. It was truly dizzying to think about. And yet, three times the past week he'd woken with Jack's breath next to his ear, or fallen asleep on the couch next to MacGyver while watching one of those plotless westerns. What could possibly change?

For one: he would be there. That changed everything. 

"Hey you know, it's too bad Mac is busy with Phoenix stuff. Could use his energy lifting up all these boxes."

"Yes, a pity," Murdoc murmurs distractedly, finding yet another Beretta amongst the lace and cufflinks. Unloaded, thankfully. Unlike the previous two. 

Jack stops a moment, a slight frown on his face, "This is one of your 'things', isn't it?" .

"My...things, Dalton?"

"Oh see, I got you, you only call me Dalton when I get you," Jack stuffs the marker in his pocket, "I must be in love with you, coming over to kiss you making that sour face and holding a gun."

"...you're far too ridiculous for anyone to want to kill, Dalton," he lets the syllables snap that time, ridiculousness to match as Jack crosses the room. 

Murdoc does drop the gun to let Jack frame his face with his hands, allowing Murdoc the space to hide in warm lips and a brash laugh. And to his credit, Jack steps away with a wink. Letting Murdoc know he doesn't have to explain himself. 

But at this point, Murdoc supposes he might as well. 

"It's not as if I didn't want to have MacGyver along. Simply that...well, he's made it clear what his thoughts are on my possessions."

"He has?"

"You aren't with us all the time, Jack."

"No I mean...what are you thinking he's thinking?" 

"That I should get rid of it all, I suppose?" 

"Oh. Yeah, he's like that. Always saying that about whatever plane I've bought next, you know? I just ignore him and explain to him how it's gonna make tons of money once he's fixed it up. And they're always beautiful things, like my Sharon," he sighs, probably seeing that rusty floatplane in his mind’s eye. Murdoc privately agreed with MacGyver’s protests there, but still, Jack’s sympathies aren’t unappreciated. 

Murdoc picks up a round object on the ground. Hamster wheel. He’s never owned a hamster. See, the difficulty is, he’s not quite sure what he wants these objects for at all. He’s sure that getting rid of them sounds distressing, and keeping them even more so. That doesn’t help with MacGyver’s convictions. 

“And besides, you know Mac, he likes having projects, things to fix. Figure I’m doing him a favor there, right?” Jack winks, utterly cheeky as always.

“I don’t particularly want my space ‘fixed’ to whatever MacGyver considers it as such,” that much, Murdoc is sure of. 

“Makes sense. Well you know, anything doesn’t fit, you know where it’ll go! Safe and sound at Dalton air! Say, d’you think I could use this silver tray table? Maybe get a first class in after we stop doing cargo only-- oh, say!” 

Jack has pulled a velvet curtain off the baby grand piano underneath all the debris. Murdoc feels the first twinge of possessiveness in seeing his reflection in its lacquered black. Yes, he very much remembers why he bought this. 

“What are you thinking for this thing?” Murdoc pulls the cover off the keys near-reverently, only half listening to Jack. He touches the middle C key carefully. It rings discordant. The surreal elation he felt upon uncovering it pops like a soap bubble. 

“...it’s very out of tune. Will be expensive to move.”

“Yeah, but it’s a pretty thing though, innit? You said you play, right? Hell, I bet Mac could tune it, if you give him enough time--”

“I would be opposed to any form of tinkering on a Steinway. Besides, I’m sure he has more than enough projects.”

“Sounds like you’re protective of her, she got a name?”

“...Claudius,” It would seem silly, admitting that name to MacGyver. But since Jack asked, and would likely have no idea of the context...

“Not a lady piano, huh? Not that I ever owned a piano, most I ever played was a beat-up sax. But say, we’ll figure out what to do with this after you tell me what’s to be done with all the silverware, huh? Put it all together and I think we could really attract some high-class people to fly at Dalton Air, say maybe you could cook…?”

Murdoc slowly closes the piano, settled by listening to Dalton prattle. What did it matter, where Claud-- where the piano ended up, really? It had been years since Murdoc had even pulled off the piano’s velvet. 

Still, when they came across an old folio of Chopin, Murdoc did have at least one object to start a box marked to take home.

[freakeating]

After running a 10k in Las Vegas, I headed over to @fluffice to try the brand-new "Spicy Poke Challenge" 🍚🌶️🔥. . It was only a pound of food, but it was powered up with the stomach-churning magic of Carolina Reapers, Ghost peppers, capsaicin extract and other tasty goodies. It was incredibly hot but at least it was over quickly 😂 the full video is up on YouTube/FreakEating if you're curious 🦝. . #poke #sushi #foodies #foodlovers #foodcoma #beard #eatingfortheinsta #eatlikeafreak #fish #tuna #challenge #foodfun #vegas #lasvegas #travel #smiles #eatatyourownrisk #foodfinds #fluffice #eater #laughs #donthateme #runnersofinstagram #runner #grubbin #bowls #riceislife (at Fluff Ice LV) https://www.instagram.com/p/COEuakmgMbq/?igshid=1j4hesaaft6dl