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minecraftbookshelf · 4 months

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In the Age of Icons: Mistakes Are Made

Chapter One: The Day Of

A Marriage of State AU Fic

[AU Masterpost (includes the AO3 link)]

Characters: Jimmy Solidarity, Xornoth, Katherine Elizabeth, Mythical J Sausage

Relationships (for the AU as a whole): Eventual (very slow burn) Flower Husbands, (established) Shadowbeans/Jizzie, (obnoxiously new) Jornoth, Eventual (very far future) Nature Wives

Wordcount: 4214

Rating On AO3: This particular fic is rated T, future installments in the AU may go all the way up to E for graphic violence but most will be between T & M

Chapter POV: Jimmy Solidarity & Xornoth

Summary:

The Codfather weaves his fingertips together so that the slight webbing between his fingers touches. It's the first time in a while he's had both hands away from his shoulder, where at least one has been hovering near his sword hilt almost the entire time, despite Katherine's glares. "It's a marriage treaty, between the royalty of the oppositions, bound in blood and salt, for peace and mutual gain." His voice has gained a slight sing-song cadence to it, even through what is clearly a slightly stumbling translation, that Xornoth recognizes from their own anytime they are reciting something from their childhood lessons, even to this day.

Warnings: A sort of general reminder of the narrative took "Unreliable Narrators"

This AU features multiple arranged marriages across the spectrum of platonic-romantic and the complicated nuances of chosen and arranged.

Any section from Xornoth's POV does have parts that read like very violent and occasionally graphic intrusive thoughts due to the whole "there is a demon living in their head" thing. If that's something you think you might have issues with, please proceed with caution if you choose to proceed at all.

Jimmy spends the majority of his flight to the Overgrown fuming and imagining the many different ways he could kill Sausage. It's cathartic indulgence and if he's busy imagining swarms of axolotls and pufferfish descend on the Mythlandic king in his minds' eye than he isn't worrying about the actual situation and what it could potentially mean for him and the Swamp.

Much. He isn't worrying about it much.

The fact that Sausage had made it past the Swamp border and all the way to Jimmy's house without being seen or stopped is...fine. It's fine.

The wind catches Jimmy's elytra at an odd angle and he dips alarmingly low for a heart-jolting moment; his tail flailing out on instinct in an attempt to steady him in a non-existent current. He catches himself before he actually crashes into the treetops, though he does have to bank hard to the left in a way that pulls the harness sharp against his shoulder. The joint twinges at the strain and he grimaces. He'll probably feel that tomorrow. He's been skipping out on his stretches, in all the chaos of the escalating tensions, and his bad side has been worse than usual. He can feel the tension of the old scar tissue at his elbow and the tightness of the muscle down his neck and shoulder.

Joel will yell at him for that.

On the bright side, maybe he'll go to war with the Mythlands and then he'll be too busy to get yelled at. He thinks Pix would call that 'silver linings.'

The trees thin out and give way to green grass fields dotted with sheep and flowers and Jimmy angles his trajectory downwards. The magic saturating the Border of the Overgrown brushes his scales as he enters and he shudders. It doesn't matter how many times he comes to visit Katherine, every time is just as unsettling. It feels like the time he bit an electric eel as a fry. A tingle and a buzzing that leaves the webbing between his fingers numb and his teeth hurting.

Katherine's house materializes on the horizon, the layers of glamour falling away and Jimmy banks into a spiral to land. He's been airborne for so long that he's barely even damp and, last minute, he decides to land in the water feature instead of on the grass surrounding it. He lands in the fountain with a splash and a sigh, the water closing over his head and offering blessed relief. His gills flare, water flowing freely through his right side and even managing a pass on his left. He allows himself a moment to settle beneath the surface and let the itchy dry feeling of his scales fade, away from the biting cold and thin air of the skyways.

He rolls over and stares at the sky, taking a minute to just exist. It's uncomfortable; his elytra, his trident, and his sword all pressing into his spine, but at least it is calm and quiet.

His view is almost immediately obstructed by a far, far too familiar silhouette tinted red and gold.

Jimmy bolts upright and almost slams his forehead into Sausage's.

He scrambles back and to his feet where he stands, dripping, in the fountain to the backdrop of the displeased gazes of Katherine's door guards and the giggles of the King of Mythland.

How did this go so wrong so fast?

"Hello, Jimmy!"

He manages to clamber out of the fountain without tripping and falling flat on his face at least. He splashes Katherine in the process, where she is hovering off to the side but he can't really be bothered to worry about that. All he can manage to do is stare at Sausage's smirking face.

"Hello, Jimmy!"

Katherine's greeting is much less mocking and Jimmy looks back down to acknowledge it. Way down. Katherine is the shortest emperor and the white tips of her ears barely clear his elbow. She is smiling up at him as if she hasn't invited him to her house only to ambush him with one of his greatest enemies. As if he hadn't trusted that her home was safe. As if he hadn't trusted that she would stand with him.

"What is he doing here?" He jerks his chin at Sausage, who is still giggling like a child. He sees Jimmy looking and grins at him, all teeth.

Behind the mask, Jimmy bares his own teeth and takes some comfort in the knowledge that he has more of them; and they are sharper. He straightens his spine and does his best to stand at his full height instead of curling slightly to the left. His sword and trident clank softly together over his shoulder.

Katherine looks briefly unsure before she sets her expression and gestures at her door. "We should all go inside and talk there. I would like to help negotiate peace between The Swamp and Mythland."

She's using her official voice. Sausage keeps giggling and Jimmy can barely hear it beneath the roar in his ears. He leans down to try and whisper into the faerie queen's ear.

"I really need your alliance right now, Katherine." He hopes his desperation doesn't show in his voice.

She gives him a reproving look that throws him right back to his brief time spent in a classroom. "I'm allied with everyone, Jimmy. You know that."

"He invaded the Swamp," Jimmy hisses, his ear-fins flaring, ignoring the shudder down his spine from her use of his Name, even in part. "He crossed our borders. Again. He's threatened war." He's no longer whispering by the end, standing to his full height, shoulders back, sword hand by his shoulder.

"And according to him, you've threatened it right back!"

It's almost a physical blow, the way the betrayal hits him. He manages to keep from physically staggering back only because Sausage appears beside him and throws an arm over his shoulder. Something the Mythlandic king has to stand on tiptoe to accomplish. It yanks Jimmy uncomfortably sideways and down and his trident almost slips from his back.

"Come on, Jimmy! Let's talk!" Sausage smiles, all teeth like an alligator, lurking on the surface of the water. "We can make peace!"

Jimmy knocks his arm away and straightens, doing his best to loom over the other ruler. His extra foot of height should be more of an advantage than if feels like. He grabs for the hilt of his sword and is only stopped by Katherine, who flies right up into his face to frown at him.

"No weapons!" She shakes her finger right in front of his mask and Jimmy clamps down on the instinctive urge to yank up the Codfather head and bite it. That would be no help to anyone, especially himself. No one takes him seriously as it is. Except maybe Pix. Maybe.

Instead he focuses on glaring at Sausage over Katherine's shoulder. The king of Mythland beams back at him, hands clasped innocently in front of himself (well away from the hilt of his own greatsword), head cocked to the side. The picture of harmless amiability were it not for the malicious sparkle in his eyes. Ohhhhhh how Jimmy would love to feed his organs to Lizzie's axolotls. He flexes his claws before Katherine grabs his arm and tugs him towards her front door, six tiny fingertips digging into his scales above his vambraces. (The embossed leather the only armor he'd worn, he hadn't realized he'd wish for more.)

Sausage trails behind them and as much as Jimmy reminds himself that not even Sausage would have the audacity to attack him in Katherine's house (probably) he can't quite shake the prickling tension from having an enemy at his back. It feels like the first time Lizzie and Joel took him to clear an ancient monument and he'd stalked through the twisty corridors and boxy rooms with the creeping feeling of being stalked in turn.

Sausage slips and almost falls on some of the tacky slime he'd accidentally tracked in and that does help. Even if he does feel bad for messing up Katherine's floor. He can feel the impassively judgmental stare from Katherine's guards, who's features do not change but still somehow radiate disapproval. He knows he probably shouldn't take it personally, most fae don't think highly of outsiders but it still feels personal.

Sausage recovers quickly and shakes out the fur lining of his coat. "Is it just me or does it smell fishy in here, now?"

"Sausage," Katherine looks disapprovingly back over her shoulder. "That's rude."

"Oh," Sausage blinks at them both, "I'm sorry, Jimmy, I didn't realize."

Jimmy wants to stab him so badly, he sets his shoulders and refrains. He can do this. He's technically trained for this, even if the skills are rusty, fallen aside before the more hands on duties that rebuilding the Swamp has required.

"Oh, this one is new!" Sausage immediately changes the subject, pointing at one of the skulls hanging on the wall of the hall. It's some kind of middling-sized land animal...a sheep maybe? with poppies filling the eye sockets and woven in a crown, there are delicate lines of gold painted across the surface of the bleached bone.

Katherine beams, her irritation at the rudeness forgotten (or at least set aside, fae never truly forget breaches of etiquette) "It is! It's a gift from a childhood friend," she looks fondly upon the skull for a moment. "We've been reconnecting lately."

Sausage nods sagely, "It is always good to spend time with your friends."

"It is," Katherine's ears twitch and her wings flutter briefly before she resumes walking. "Which is why we are going to fix this."

She leads them down the hall towards her library, a room so thoroughly warded that Jimmy can feel the magic against his scales when he passes through the door in an echo of the fae-realm boundaries.

It is a cozy room, despite the elegance and delicacy. It makes Jimmy feel out of place and reminds him a little bit of Lizzie's war room, if a better lit and less damp version. Every corner is full of plants and flowers and books and crystals, and blessedly free of guards and staff and other judging eyes. It's just Jimmy and Katherine and Sausage and the Elvenking sitting in the corner.

Jimmy may or may not do a full and proper double take.

Huge white and black wings, glittering obsidian antlers, an incongruous cup of tea on the side table. Apparently this meeting has interrupted the...reading time? of the King of Rivendell. Jimmy grits his teeth at the presence of one more ally for Sausage and turns his attention to the other two rulers instead. He'll worry about the Elvenking if they decide to become a problem.

In retrospect, Xornoth probably should have left as soon as Katherine escorted Sausage and The Codfather into her library, her expression tense and serious despite the cheerful tone to her chatter but in all honesty they were so startled at first that they froze. Now its been just long enough it would be too awkward to get up and leave. And the others are in-between them and the door, which just makes it worse. So they sit in the corner, tome in hand, trying their hardest to pretend they aren't getting a front row seat to the latest incarnation of the Mythland-Swamp dispute, featuring The Codfather's tangible rage and frustration over Katherine's stubborn neutrality.

(Which is understandable, but arguing a fae over their nature is a futile task and The Codfather seems too much a fool to realize it.)

The palpable hostility in the room has Xornoth's feathers fluffing against their will. Katherine is doing her best to mediate but she might as well try to climb a cliff-face in a blizzard. Sausage seems more interested in taunting The Codfather than coming to any kind of agreement and The Codfather himself stubbornly refuses to even consider any kind of negotiations until...a disc is returned?

Meaningless frivolity.

Xornoth isn't quite sure of the intricacies of the Mythland-Swamp conflict, since most of it happened during Rivendell's seclusion and so they don't even have any accounts of it other than what has been acquired in the past few decades. Accounts that are, somewhat understandably, for the most part slanted towards the Mythlandic perspective. (It is Mythland that Xornoth is allied with and it is Mythland that writes things down while The Swamp seems to lean heavily towards oral histories.) They don't think they've heard anything about a disc before, that might be new.

Both Sausage and The Codfather are known for their chaotic natures. If this does escalate to war (as both have threatened multiple times in the past hour) they will both involve their allies. As much fun as it would be to go toe-to-toe with the King of Mezalea in the arena, if Xornoth has to deal with wartime logistics because of these two acting like elflings not yet out of the home, they will just walk off into the mountains and wait for the winter to take them.

Do not pretend such reluctance. I see the truth.

Xornoth turns a page.

"At this point," The Codfather snarls, leaning on the back of the sofa he is standing by, looking inches away from leaping across the library to strangle Sausage (or try to at least) regardless of Katherine's policy on unapproved violence, his speech has been steadily growing more formal as the debate raged on, but also with a lot more insults in a multitude of languages. (Which Sausage had been more than happy to return.) "I don't think I'd trust even a-" he makes a series of humming, clicking syllables that Xornoth recognizes as Oceanic, but does not understand "-from you lot!"

That, of all things, is what grinds the entire conversation to a halt. Even Sausage stops his mocking dance around the edge of the room to look at The Codfather in confusion. "A who now?"

Katherine is frowning in concentration, mouthing words to herself while she tries to translate. "An...in-law treaty?"

"You know," The Codfather waves a hand dismissively. "A Binding Agreement."

At least he's speaking Mythlandic again, a language Xornoth supposedly understands.

"No, we don't know," Katherine still looks confused by also speculative. "Please explain. What kind of binding exactly is this?"

His voice has gained a slight sing-song cadence to it, even through what is clearly a slightly stumbling translation, that Xornoth recognizes from their own anytime they are reciting something from their childhood lessons, even to this day. They've never been able to quite shake the "student voice."

You are still only a student. And you will be so long as you refuse to take what is rightfully ours.

"Oh!" Katherine's face lights up with recognition and she bounces on her toes, wings aflutter. "I read about that! It's an Oceanic thing!"

Oceanic, not Swamp. Interesting.

The Codfather tilts his head to the side, radiating bewilderment despite the mask completely obscuring his features. "Um...yeah? Wait, do land-folk not do those? At all?"

Both Sausage and Katherine shake their head and Katherine expands verbally, talking right over the Codfather's hushed 'oh.'

"Not between empires, not since the Worldspawn Treaty. It's not uncommon for different families within an empire to form alliance through marriage though."

Xornoth wisely stays silent, though they can't quite help but touch the enchanted jewel fastening their cape at the shoulder. Only Katherine notices, but she's the only one of present company who knows what it means anyway.

"Oh," The Codfather seems a bit taken aback. "I thought it was just that it hadn't happened recently, not that you didn't at all."

"No," Sausage looks intrigued. "We don't."

"We could though," Katherine says suddenly, looking ecstatic. "The treaty just rendered those kinds of alliances of limited use, it didn't forbid them. What about a marriage truce between The Wither Rose Alliance and The Swamp!"

All three of them stare at the faerie queen like she's crazy. (At least, Xornoth is assuming that's what The Codfather's emotions are.) Sausage's eyebrows alone are conveying enough skepticism for the whole room. The Codfather's tail swishes uneasily.

Like a fish on a hook.

Sausage latches onto the movement with a smirk. "Aw! Do you not want to marry me, Jimmy?"

"I would rather move to the desert," The Codfather says without hesitation. "Or the Nether."

"Maybe not the two of you," Katherine says, even her spiteful optimism clearly powerless against the reality of what the outcome of that would be. Wise of her. Xornoth doesn't trust them to not kill each other before they make it to the wedding night. If they even made it to the wedding itself. "We are trying to make peace, not break it irreparably. But the Wither Rose Alliance is the largest alliance. Surely something can be arranged. For a...Binding Agreement the two parties have to be of equal or near-equal standing, right?"

"Well yes, but-"

"So," she says triumphantly, cutting The Codfather off before he can even get started. "One of the other emperors?"

There is a moment of silence as they all contemplate, even Sausage looking more focused than usual.

They are going to hurt themselves, trying that hard to utilize what little intelligence they have.

"Fwhip?" Sausage eventually offers, somewhat unsure, but also clearly just trying for a reaction.

And he gets one; a loud, rattly, snarling hiss that, despite usually considering The Codfather's threat level somewhere between "negligible" and "non-existent", Xornoth find themself sitting up straighter and even has Sausage taking a step back, visibly startled. Deep in the corner of their mind that Xornoth does their best to ignore, a shudder of disquiet resonates for a moment before being cut off.

Katherine's eyes are wide and, seemingly without realizing it, she takes to the air slightly, hovering over the floor, set to evade any attacks. Xornoth realizes that their hand is on the hilt of their sword and slowly, so as not to draw attention, they withdraw it back to their book. Their wings stay mantled, primaries brushing against he walls of their alcove.

"Okay, not Fwhip," Katherine says hurriedly, slowly dropping back down to the floor and smoothing her skirt out in a nervous gesture she's had since she was small. Usually she does better at controlling herself. She'd had the unphased exterior trained into her well before Xornoth ever met her and, however amiable and relaxed she likes to appear, they know its always there beneath.

If we pinned her wings to the wall like a butterfly and made her watch, that would phase her.

Xornoth contemplates smashing the side of their head into the wall. Unconsciousness has about a 50/50 chance of bringing peace and quiet with it. Unfortunately, the hangings in this library nook are imported from Rivendell, several layers of thick woolen brocade. It probably wouldn't be a very effective attempt. And would have them looking crazy in front of two allies and a...not quite enemy. (Though if they don't sort this out that will probably be changing very soon.)

Let there be war, one step closer to our full power.

Katherine has moved on. "What about Gem?"

Sausage snorts a laugh but also looks a little terrified at the idea of even suggesting such a thing. Perhaps the wisest he's been all day, based off what Xornoth has gathered about what seems to amount to a neighbors' spat between him and The Codfather. (Albeit a neighbors spat with centuries of animosity behind it and that is now threatening war.)

The Codfather shakes his head a little frantically, the copper-beaded tassels on the side of the mask clinking against the trident slung across his back. "She's scary."

He seems to realize that he said that out loud and quickly scrambles like a fish suffocating on a rock to cover for it. "And, uh, Great Wizard isn't a title with a lot of..." He flounders a bit. "There could be a new Great Wizard tomorrow, if someone beat her. It has to be a more permanent title."

Personally, Xornoth finds the likelihood of anyone replacing Gemini Tay at any point during a mortal lifetime (and possibly longer) very, very unlikely. It takes a lot to outshine bringing the dragons back. But The Codfather is right. And not only is Gem scary, she's also mean. Which most people don't realize because she spends so much time keeping Fwhip and Sausage from getting themselves killed. Xornoth has been to enough Wither Rose meetings to fear her though. She would eat The Codfather alive.

They do also find themself a little bit impressed, they hadn't thought he had that level of awareness of the internal workings o the other kingdoms.

If we gutted him like a fish he'd squeal so nicely.

It's been a while since Xornoth turned a page. They turn a page.

"Pearl can't be that closely tied to any other ruler," Katherine keeps going. "Too many people across the Empires rely on their trade with her and it isn't fair to your people to risk their well-being that way."

Honestly, if it came to war, Xornoth is fairly certain that Pearl would fight to remain neutral. It would destroy her, being unable to help her friends. Rip that golden heart of hers right out of her chest and shred it in the dust, but so many people from all the lands depend on Helianthia's crops and herds to remain fed. And her sense of duty, to her own people and all the others would take precedence over her loyalty to her friends, and that would kill her swifter than any blade.

If the war did not destroy her lands, and her with them, first.

The page in their white-knuckled grip begins to tear on the edge.

Rip them all to pieces, give the farmer the fight she wants.

Rivendell would follow Helianthia, Xornoth acknowledges. They are not as selfless as Pearl. And even if they were, they could not condemn Rivendell to another harsh winter of starvation and death. They would stand to defend her against all comers (and there would be many who came, lured by the resources she guarded) both as a friend and as a political alliance. Rivendell is not back to the point of being able to sustain themselves, not if the winters continue to worsen the way they have been. Loathe as they are to admit it, even inside their own head where no one can hear.

Well, no one but-

Wheat fields burn so easily, all it would take is a single spark in the right place and all of Mythland would be in flames.

Carefully, carefully, Xornoth sets their book down on the table beside them and places their hands in their lap. Katherine will stop allowing them to borrow her books if they start spontaneously combusting them. Hopefully she doesn't notice the slightly singed cover.

"Joey?" Now it is Katherine who's skepticism is betrayed in her voice and Sausage actually snorts a laugh. All three of them look over at Xornoth, though The Codfather quickly looks away again.

Free us of the silly bird.

"Good luck with that," Sausage says, giggling, and waggles his eyebrows at Xornoth. They pretend to not see, giving their full attention to the tapestry on the wall beside them in a vain attempt at pretending that their painfully un-subtle affair is not the most gossiped about topic among the emperors at present.

This is an old one, probably gifted by their grandparents to the House Blossom Lady of the time. The knot-work symbol in the corner is one they are unfamiliar with, not the signature of any artisan from their lifetime.

"And Xornoth is already married," Katherine doesn't acknowledge Sausage's behavior, beyond an annoyed look, which is probably for the best.

The Codfather jerks his head sharply to the side, "and that's all the royals in your alliance." He sounds almost smug. "None of them work."

And that is when Xornoth makes what they will refer to for centuries to come as "The Mistake." They pick their book back up and affect disinterest as they impulsively decide to wipe the smug grin they are imagining off The Codfather's face. "There is my brother."

There is a long moment of silence. Xornoth eventually looks up and gets their first inkling of how badly they might have just messed up when they see the astonished expression on Sausage's face, and the slowly dawning delight on Katherine's. They stubbornly ignore the blank cod-face staring directly at them.

Why do you consistently choose to prove your incompetence.

"Your brother is alive?" Sausage says but is cut off by Katherine.

"Oh!" she says, bouncing on her toes, hands clasped under her chin. "That's perfect!"

Chapter Two [TBA]

Chapter Three [TBA]

#marriage of state au #solidaritygaming #xornoth #empires smp #flower husbands #empires s1 #katherineelizabeth #mythicalsausage #MoS Icons Arc #marriage of state fanfic #rain rambles #i am so excited to finally start posting this au #literally shaking #aroace author writes massive fallen fantasy au featuring marriages of convenience and politics #it goes exactly the way you would imagine #happy valentines day nerds #mos: fic

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falconearring · 1 year

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goood day! hope you're doing splendid

if you have the time, would you mind explaining a bit of the lore of your au so far? I'm very interesting in lot of mechanics of aus, and apart from whatever bits you've dropped about the gang and what they're upto, is there any specifics you'd like to add on as a note? this isn't about spoilers, and if doing so might reveal some then it's completely understandable!

I'm really interested in how your story progresses and if not the above, id love to hear what you think so far about it and what you think of the thoughts of people, like their interpretations if have any! thank you for taking the time for this and its completely fine if you don't want to answer

apologies if I came off as rude or too assuming, and for the rather long ask ahah

thank you again! have a great day or night ahead! take care

Hey thank you so much for dropping this in my inbox!! You taking interest warms my heart!

I'm gonna use this ask as a means to drop these headshots and notes. Below is every person who currently resides at the repurposed logging yard. They call themselves the Hermits. All of these people will appear at least once in the comic, and I'm going to do my best to include these little bits of info within the actual story too!

Other members of traffic/life smp will also appear, they just aren't associated with the group established here. So Scott, Lizzie, Jimmy, Martyn, Bigb, Scar and Grian are going to make an appearance later.

As for the setting, we're 2 years into the apocalypse at this point. There are safe guarded cities, but these places are far away from where the story is taking place. The Hermits have pretty much been living their lives completely isolated from other people as a means of keeping safe.

Weather in this universe can be a bit extreme, as the world faces an imminent climate crisis a few years before the zombies start appearing inexplicably. Space stations were in the midst of being established before the apocalypse, with hopes that humanity could reestablish itself in outer space. When it hit, much of the remaining human race was evacuated from the planet as a last ditch effort. The status of the shuttles that were sent up is unknown. The stations being set up really weren't ready to be inhabited so soon, so its kind of iffy whether or not things are going much better up there.

Early into the apocalypse, helicopters would fly overhead looking for survivors and escort them back to safe zones and launch sites. This stopped not long after though, and whether or not they're going to start looking for survivors again is unknown.

As for the zombies themselves, the 'science' behind them is beyond anyone's understanding. Upon being bitten, the body instantaneously progresses through the stages of decomposition and takes on a sickly kind of bruised look. As far as any one can tell, there is no brain activity beyond this point, but the bodies still move inexplicably. Kind of a night of the living dead situation. Important to note that much like a human, if the heart or brain is destroyed they will die, despite not having a functioning nervous or circulatory system. I'm taking a distinctly supernatural approach to them because I just think it's cool.

I have no clue what year this is set in, but the Hermits are residing in the wilderness somewhere in Canada. I'll touch on pretty much all the above within the comic as well, but I thought there was no harm in sharing anyhow because you asked so nicely!

As for the second half, people have said a couple interesting things. Sadly I can't comment on a lot of it because it dips into spoilers! Somebody said they find it funny that Bdubs is probably freaking out while Etho is just chilling and that's absolutely spot on and made me laugh.

Thanks for such a detailed ask, anon! And thanks for your patience, I had to think about what I wanted to say ^_^ Hopefully this is what you were looking for, hope you have a fantastic day!

#asks #falconearringzombieau

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butcherlarry · 10 months

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Weekly Fic Recs 32

It's a three day weekend for me! Yippee!! That means more time for reading fics (and playing Baldur's Gate 3, heehee).

As Long As It's You by Mawiiish - Superbat, complete. Bruce gets hit by a spell meant for Clark and all his scars open up. Much hurt/comfort (MY BELOVED) ensues.

Oh Man Oh My Oh Me by whaleofatime - Batfam, complete. Bruce goes on an undercover mission and runs into Bruce Wayne (?????). Batman (Dick) shows up too. Shenanigans ensue.

it's all relative fiction, anyway by a_alene - Batman and Superman, complete. Takes place in the MAWS verse. An imagining of when those two meet in the show. The interaction between Clark, Lois, and Jimmy is FANTASTIC.

An Honest Conversation by frozenpotions - Superbat, wip. Friends to Lovers for Bruce and Clark. Unfortunately, they are both idiots (especially Bruce).

Everything Will Be Just Fine by lonelynpc - Battinson batfam, wip. More of Goth Dad Bruce. The lastest chapter is Bruce dealing with people guessing his secret identity and his contingency plan for it, heehee.

i got a strange vision of your reckless love by costasiellak - Superbat, complete. Morning after a hook up. Clark wants to make Bruce some coffee (and be more than a hook up).

A Chips And Dip Kind Of Night by whaleofatime - Batfam, complete. Bruce goes undercover as a late night clerk at a 7/11 and Dick shows up to buy snacks. Shenanigans ensue.

I'd Learn To Float by Meduseld - Superbat, complete. Clark starts out as a gossip columnist and reports on Bruce during Dick's adoption.

Clarion by oxymoronic - Superbat, complete. DCEU version of the Hush storyline.

Shut Up and Dance with Me by Meduseld - JL has a party. Bruce is terrible at parties. Luckily, Clark (and a cute dog) is there to make it better.

This Is Not My Beautiful Wife by Meduseld - Superbat, complete. Bruce and Clark get stuck in a suburbia simulation. Shenanigans ensue.

Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 - Superbat, wip. More mer Bruce! Jason is back! But oh no, what about Timmy??

#weekly fic rec #fic rec #fic recs #fanfiction rec list #fanfiction recommendation #superbat #batman #superman #bruce wayne #clark kent #batfam

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secretkittywolf · 5 months

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High Life

Chapter 3

Martyn notices how sad Scott looks, so he hops over the bar and walks over. "You okay? You seemed pretty upset back there" He asks. "I'm fine. Just.... I'm just stressed about my backstory, that's all" Scott admits. Just like talking with Jimmy, talking with Martyn is much easier than anyone else in this game. Cleo is too, but they've not had deep moments like how he has with being Flower Husbands and the Mean Gills. Scott feels comfortable and desperately wants to talk to him about his motive, but he can't. He doesn't know what would happen to him if he talked about it, but it cannot be good. "Hey, that's completely understandable. I think we're all stressed over our backstories. So if you think for a second that you're alone in this, you're not" Martyn gives Scott a hug which is gladly accepted. Skizz watches them and scowls. How is Scott so relaxed with Martyn and not him? Isn't he Scott's boyfriend?

Over in the corner, Scar is rummaging through some chests. "Scar, what are you doing?" Asks Grian. "Looking for some music, my good avian. Now.... Where would.... Aha!" Scar stands, holding a disc in his hand. He walks over to a jukebox and places the disc in. "Now let's dance" 'Chirp' begins to play as Scar begins to tap his foot to the music. Grian huffs but with the music filling the club, he can't help but chirp and start to dance. "Hey Gem! Let's dance" smiles Pearl. "Um no thanks" "Come on! What's wrong with dancing?" " I just don't fancy dancing right now" "Don't be silly!" Pearl grabs Gem's hands. "Wait, Pearl! I- I don't-" Pearl begins to dance with Gem. The faun is spun by the moth lady and forced into a dip. "Pearl! Stop!" "Why? Isn't this fun?" "I said I don't want to dance right now!" "But-" Cleo grabs Gem's waist and pulls her from Pearl. "She said no, Pearl" Pearl begins to frown, seeing how the zombie had her arm around her girlfriend. Neither of them have realised that the music has stopped.

"No one asked for your opinion, Cleo" she spat. "She's told you, multiple times that she doesn't want to dance, so why are you forcing her to?" "You know, you should really mind your own business" "I don't like people forcing my friends to do something they're not comfortable with" "It's just dancing! It's not like I'm forcing her to murder everyone in the room!" "But you're making her uncomfortable. You should really learn how to respect other people's feelings more" Cleo takes Gem's hand and guides the faun to the exit. Growling, Pearl launches at Cleo, knocking them down. "What is wrong with you?!" "Maybe you should learn how to mind you're own fucking business!" A fist comes at Cleo's face but before she could feel an impact, she sees a hand over it. "Pearl, don't" Gem begged. "Don't hurt her!" Pearl uses her free hand to shove Gem back. "Sorry princess, but this zombie needs to be taught a lesson" "Enough!" The girl's and zombie look over to see an angry Martyn. "I will not tolerate violence in my club. If you're gonna act like this, take it outside"

Cleo shoves Pearl off her and stands. "No need to worry anymore, Martyn. I was just leaving" Cleo marches out of the club and into the cool night air. "Night time already?" Cleo walks through the lit up city, thankful that the light level was high enough so no mobs could spawn. "Cleo! You okay?" She turns to see a familiar face. "Hey Ren. And yeah, I'm okay" she lies. Ren gives them a big, toothy grin. "That's good to here! Fancy coming over to mine?" They looks back but shakes her head. "Sure. Sounds like fun" Ren's tail begins to wag with excitement as he and Cleo walk to Ren's.

#trafficblr #grian #you are not immune to the goodtimes #mr goodtimes #last life #double life #scott smajor #limited life #secret life smp #zombiecleo #pearlescentmoon #geminitay #martyn inthelittlewood #goodtimeswithscar #renthedog #High Life

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fountainpenguin · 6 months

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"Pretend to be sweet! Speak with a smile... Even if you're mad, play it cool for a while..." (x)

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New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 15 - “Scald (Ren, Jimmy, Scar)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

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While Impulse prowls in search of Bdubs, life goes on. Ren, Joel, Jimmy, Tango, and Cleo get along in their respective spheres. And Scar? ... Well, since Etho never showed up for Session 2, Scar's teamed with a bunch of other explorers to tackle a cave adventure. With a group that large, it's only a matter of time before hunters turn on quarries...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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Renthedog - Chicken

Quarry: ZombieCleo

Hunter: Smajor1995

Allegiance: Unaffiliated

💚 💛 ❤️

"Hey." Is that a weird thing to say to a guy you haven't seen since his particles dissolved? He looks better now, standing with his hands in his hoodie pockets. In traditional Joel fashion, he got a new outfit for Session 2. The hoodie's sky blue. Puffy pastel letters spell out Glitch Survivor down the front, surrounded by four hearts, several azaleas, and little sparkles.

Skizzleman stole the traits of Tropical Fish

Actually, the whole thing looks glittery. It's childish and goofy and he looks snug and content, like Ren didn't catch him staring at his reflection for a little too long while they changed in the shower house. Ren has questions (which will go unanswered) regarding what went on between Joel's boss and the skin designers in the community mere days ago.

Not that I'm one to talk. I'm going all-in on the farmer's aesthetic this time around. It just sort of happened to him. Honestly? Can't complain, dude. The flannel shirt is comfy, the jeans aren't so bad, and the whole vibe fits his familiar suspenders pretty well. He's half worried he'll overheat, so he keeps rolling the sleeves back to his elbows.

If he were to put it into words, he's playing into that vibe of all the world in chaos while he serves smiles and escapism in his pretty little garden. In fact, Ren gets up from the muck, taking out a handkerchief to wipe dirt form his hands, and walks over to join Joel by the fence. He leans against it. Joel tilts his head. He's got little panda ears.

"'Hey' yourself, Ren. Ooh, look at you working hard in the chaos game."

"Thanks, man. You're looking good on green again; nice, nice- A+ material."

Skizzleman stole the traits of Salmon

"Yeah, Grian kicked me back up since, y'know… the whole 'creeper glitch' wasn't meant to happen and I did get my proper quarry kill." Joel points two thumbs at the bubbly text across his chest. "He'd better watch his ruddy little backend, though, because I intend to hit purple before I see yellow again. This order is tall, but so am I." His eyes roam behind Ren, wandering the other side of the fence. His fingers tap together inside his hoodie pocket. "Got quite a bit of wheat there, haven't you?"

"Wheat?" He keeps his tone light and friendly, but repeats the word 'wheat' to make it undeniable what he's referring to. "Take a bit if you like; leave something if you want. It's my community garden. This, my friend, is a safe space." He glances left and right, then leans forward, dipping his voice. He even lifts one hand to catch his words, though no one seems to be around eavesdropping. "Seems to me like you're less likely to get sniped off if your would-be murderer knows you'll respawn a few blocks away to have your revenge! And lay waste to them completely where they stand!"

Joel lifts both brows, curious but flat-mouthed. "Eeeh… Not the most exciting content for you, is it? I mean… You could achieve the same thing by lurking near your base. Or plopping your bed down anytime you anticipate a fight, if you wanna be some sort of freak… Also, I'm pretty sure you can't strike your hunter back if you drop from green life to yellow? You're still yellow, right? That's a passive color."

bigbst4tz2 stole the traits of Creeper Skizzleman stole the traits of Turtle

"… Look, it's cool, okay? Spawn's cool." Ren gestures sideways, flapping the handkerchief. "I'm in my peaceful arc right now. Spawn shall be the most beautiful place to rest one's head!"

Joel looks around, skeptic impatience dancing on his lips. Spawn isn't technically a peninsula, but it stands on a raised, flat bit of land overlooking the rushing river. The wind's gusty up here, bamboo and jungle trees swishing. Ren's got his hidden chickens and pigs.

Thus far, his play session consists mostly of bartering with Scott and Skizz for the right to breed their sheep. They helped him lead the sheep back in return for the right to take two chickens, and the haughty stare in Scott's gaze warned Ren that he wouldn't hesitate to kill every animal in his underground hidey-hole, regardless of what killing so many and swapping traits that many times in a row would do to his stomach. He needs to move them. The Sushi Boys know where they are right now and that's not a good strat.

GoodTimesWithScar stole the traits of Enderman

"Peaceful, yeah," Joel says. He leans against the fencepost, cupping his cheek in one hand. Well, one panda paw. "Say… Any chance I could pull you away from your work for a couple hours, mate? Promise it'll be worth your while."

"Oh?"

"You got shovels?" Joel summons his own to his hand with a flick of the wrist. It's stone, unimpressive, but he taps it against the edge of the fence like it's made of netherite. "I'm thinking we go about digging up sand. It won't be a monopoly, but Grian always makes a grab at it, and I think yoinking it before he tries will be the best strat."

"… Seems like he'll come after you once he realizes you've got it."

"Hope he does. I want him-" Joel makes a shhhhluck! sound, gliding the shovel scoop across his own throat. "You get me? Come on; we'll make a game of it."

Ren frowns, one ear twitching like he's got a flea. He tries not to glance at the place he hid his animals, though that means jerking his eyes back to Joel as they start to drift sideways. "Well… It sounds like you might be luring me away for a bit of thievery-"

"Oh, like you've got better plans today. You and your smelly little farm, your smelly little livestock…"

So he's already aware of them. He's not trying to fake me out. Ren lifts his hands. "All right; you've convinced me. Let's have ourselves a dig, my friend." For the sake of content creation. For the sake of getting out of his own head, too… Apart from his visit to Scott and Skizz, he's pretty much been gardening all day long. He's got an inventory full of bread and a back-up chest to boot.

And I know I'm not his quarry…

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

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watcher-with-burned-wings · 7 months

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Darkside (Pt. 2)

(Part 2 to If you love me, let me go, or the Wasteland Au)

The crest of the sun had just begun to peek over the edge of the wall of Life City. Only a few citizens were wandering the streets of the sleepy city, setting up shops and stalls for the customers. Town hall lay dormant, peaceful for now. But soon, it will be filled with hostile and aggressive arguments, insults, and annoyed hybrids.

As per Mayor Scar’s integration plan, all outsiders had to attend classes to learn how to be model citizens.

That’s how every day, for eight hours, Scott had spent the last two weeks. Scott tolerates the quote “lessons” only because it allows him to see Ren and Grian. Pearl was there as well, formally known as Blood Moon. But her owner had somehow managed to calm the wolf centaur down to someone nearly unrecognizable. Most of the time it is just them ignoring or arguing with Scar.

Jimmy, Martyn, Tango, and Cleo tend to come back to the hall to find the crimson having done something to Scar and were found chilling in Grian’s room, much to their dismay. They never hurt Scar, he’s usually locked in a closet or locked out of the hall, they even had him stuck in a chair due to super glue the quad had made from flour, water, mud, and sap.

They weren’t allowed flour unsupervised after that.

Waking up to someone licking his face, Scott groaned out, “Owen…please. I’m trying to sleep.” The llama huffed and nudged him a bit more aggressively, bleating into his ear. The cyan-haired llama hybrid sat up, rubbing his ear. “Fine, fine. I’m up.”

The llama huffed again and then began to eat the hay that Scott had been using as a bed. Shaking his head, Scott chuckled and got up, stretching out, and looking around the stall he called a “room”. Jimmy reluctantly agrees to allow Scott to live in the barn because both Tango and Jimmy can see the effects of Scott being locked and chained up in the house.

He had fallen into a deep depression, barely eating, not speaking, and refusing to come out from under the bed. The llama hybrid was sleep-deprived as well, so it was only so long before Tango set up a room-like cell next to Owen’s stall. It was a stall with a padlock on the door and had hay for bedding instead of a mattress, much to Scar’s disapproval. The first night showed much improvement, much to the Ranchers’ delight.

A few compromises were made for him to stay in the barn. First, he had to have meals in the house, unless he was sick. Second, he needed to shower every day, at least once, due to smelling like a llama, which Scott honestly didn’t mind smelling like. And last, he had to attend the “lessons” without fuss, unless, again, he was ill. Scott readily agreed because he got the chain off and had somewhere comfortable to rest with a fellow llama by his side.

Owen worked as a personal alarm clock as well.

The llama would lick him or annoy him until he got up for the day. Which was a blessing and a curse because he didn’t have a snooze button or off button. Scott walked over to the stall window, looking through the bars as Jimmy opened the barn door. Jimmy smiled as he strolled over to the door, pulling a key out of his pocket.e

“Good morning, Scott! How are you? Sleep well?” He asked as he unlocked the stall door, opening it for the perky llama man. Said llama man nodding with an eye rub.

“Yes. Now food.” Scott replied simply. Jimmy shook his head.

“Nope, you shower and get dressed first. You smell like the barn.”

Scott grumbled under his breath but dipped his head in acknowledgment because he didn’t want his little bit of freedom taken away. Jimmy’s gaze softened as he walked with him, guiding him towards the house.

“Tango is making your favorite, strawberries and waffles.” Jimmy tried to cheer him up. “So, the faster you shower, the faster you get strawberries.”

Scott visibly perked up at the mention of the red berry, his tail wagging. He had never tasted something so sweet and juicy before, being one of the only good things in the Life City. “Okay. I’ll accept this.” He laments. Jimmy giggles and opens the door for him.

Scott didn’t even try to get away from them anymore. He learned that trying to escape alone goes nowhere. Granted, even if he did have a chance, he wouldn’t want to leave his friends behind again. Even Pearl had become somewhat of a friend to all of them, easily relating to the sucky situation they all were put in. So, they all agreed to play nicely with the Lifers.

Bolting to the guest room, he grabbed a clean uniform for the class that Scar had issued all of them, tailored to their specific needs. Scotts was normal, minus the tail hole in the trousers. The uniform consisted of gray pants, a black blazer with red, green, and yellow accents, and a white long-sleeve undershirt. The llama hybrid ran back to the bathroom to begin getting ready.

After the quick shower, Scott got dressed. He looked at himself in the mirror and tamed his wild hair. Once he deemed himself presentable, he left the bathroom. He throws his night clothes into the laundry room as he passes before heading to the kitchen.

Jimmy and Tango were chatting in the kitchen when he entered. They both turned to him when they noticed him.

“Good morning, Scott. You can sit down. I’m just finishing the last batch of waffles.” Tango invited with a kind smile. “The strawberries are already on the table for you.” He tacked on after a second.

“Okay, thanks,” Scott replied as he sat down at the dining table.

Scott grabbed a strawberry happily from the large bowl in the center of the table. Unable to contain his llama side, he popped the whole thing into his mouth. Juice dripped down his chin as he savored the delectable fruit as he chewed. He didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he opened them once he was finished with his mouth full, wiping away the juice with his sleeve.

Jimmy gave a disappointed frown. “Scott, small bites and please use a napkin instead of your sleeve.” Scott just rolled his eyes at him but did what he was told with his next few strawberries.

The Crimson llama was still quite hurt about the Ranchers' betrayal of him. He would be civil to them but would give them the cold shoulder if they asked him to join them in a bonding activity or try to explain their reasoning. However, he didn’t hate them.

He could never.

Jimmy, the kind and caring guy that he is, does everything in his power to try to make Scott comfortable. He has been the one to try to cheer Scott up using flowers, trips, or food to show him that being a lifer isn’t so bad. Tango, in his way, shows his affection by allowing Scott to help around the farm when he is stir-crazy. He shows him how to cook and work complex Redstone mechanics, which goes over Scott’s head most of the time.

But it’s in those times that it hurts Scott the most. Neither understands that they are showing Scott a life they could have had if they had kept their word. But now doubt and broken trust have fractured their relationship in an immeasurably way. Tango and Jimmy have been trying desperately to fix it, but it’ll take time. Something they don’t have before they lose Scott forever.

Shaking away his thoughts, he noticed the waffle on the plate in front of him. Scott glanced up to see Jimmy looking at him worriedly with Tango glancing at him through bites.

“Sorry, just lost in thought.” He apologized before he started eating. Both seem to lose some tension in their shoulders. Jimmy begins to eat his waffle now that he has confirmed Scott’s comfort.

Honestly, Scott felt a little bad about the two farmers. They love him, which before the incident, perhaps he could have reciprocated the feelings. But not anymore. Neither understands that the hybrid feelings. He does like some of the perks of the city, but he feels confined. He is meant to wander, and be nomadic. The lessons feel too domestic. He is part animal, and animals like to be free.

Scott's eyes drifted to the door window, looking out towards the gate as he chewed the waffle slowly, holding it with his bare hands, no syrup.

Tomorrow night they would escape.

They all had been planning this for the last two weeks whenever they managed to get away from Scar. They would quickly hide the evidence of anything being suspicious if they heard any footsteps heading towards them and pretend to be playing cards or just talking. Today they were going to go over last-minute details then they were out of here.

Finally, they all finished their breakfasts. Scott got up and grabbed his required bag and slipped it over his shoulder. Jimmy cleaned off the table as Tango when saddling the horses. As much as the llama wanted to help, he was called over to Jimmy to help wash dishes. He did so begrudgingly, knowing this was a tactic to keep him clean.

Once the dishes were cleared and cleaned, both made their way outside where Tango was waiting. Scott ran up to his horse, he called Bubbles, petting her affectionally. She nuzzled into his hands, snorting happily. He hoisted himself over the sweet horse and settled him into the saddle. Tango had already mounted his horse and trotted over to him. Jimmy followed suit quickly, mumbling something about being late.

The trio began to make their way towards the town hall at a quick pace. They rode through the narrow streets that led to the interior city. Scott couldn’t help admiring the small shops and morning people that milled around them. Flowers and colors were everywhere compared to the scarlet sands of the wastelands. It only grew more colorful as they went deeper into the city.

Soon the hall appeared ahead of them. Scott dismounted Bubbles, giving her a loving pat on her flank. Tango and Jimmy both stay on their horses.

“Have a good day in class Scott,” Tango called with a smile as he grabbed Bubbles’s harness.

“And please don’t glue Scar down again,” Jimmy added. “It was a pain to get him off that wooden chain.” Scott couldn’t help but feel proud.

“No promises~” Scott called back, laughing at Jimmy’s pale face. Tango shook his head.

“Just get in there, you’re late as it is. I don’t want Scar giving me an earful for you being late.” Tango shouted with an amused and slightly serious tone.

The llama stuck out his tongue at Tango before bounding up the steps and entering the city hall. He took a sharp left down a hallway, following it down to the very end of the hall. He pushed open the door to find Scar in the middle of some boring manner talk.

Scar looked up and grinned, clasping his hands together, “Ah, Scott. Nice of you to join us !” He gestured towards his seat. “Please sit, I was just explaining the concept of good table manners.”

Huffing, Scott sat heavily in his seat, feeling a smug satisfaction every time, he saw the scar that had appeared where his saliva had burned Scar. Grain gave him a lazy wave of his hand, head down on the table, clearly bored out of his mind, wings partly tucked. Ren wasn’t much better; he looked like he was trying to give Scar his attention but was cleanly falling asleep behind his sunglasses. Pearl sat with her wolf body lying down, being too big for a chair. She had her head in her hand, blinking slowly as she too felt compelled to nap.

Scott sighed as he settled in for the long, boring morning.

============================================================

Grian was startled as the bell rang for lunch. He looked around frantically as his wings puffed in fright. He relaxed when he realized where he was, catching his breath before he relaxed. Scott seemed to notice and gave him a small reassuring smile. Ren and Pearl were still knocked out cold due to being nocturnal most of the time.

Glancing around, Grian didn’t spot Scar anywhere.

“Where’s Scar?” He questioned Scott.

Scott hums as he stands up, stretching. “He went to grab the lunches.” He sighs as his back audibly cracks, making Grian cringe. “Also, you have drool on your face.” The llama pointed out.

Grian wipes his face and stands up as well. “So how are we going to keep him this time?” Grian asked, looking at the llama expectantly. Scott looked around the room before smirking to himself. The llama hybrid went over to a cabinet and grabbed a gray roll of something. “What is that?”

“No idea, but I’ve seen Tango use it in the barn to hold a pitchfork together so it’s strong,” Scott explained.

“Huh,” Grian replied. “So, pin him down and use it to attach him to the floor?” Grian suggests. Scott gave him an odd look.

“Well, I wasn’t thinking to use it like that,” Scott admitted. “But I think your idea sounds funny so let’s do it.” The llama grins devilishly.

Grian mirrors his expression.

================================

Of all the things Pearl was expecting to wake up was not Scar yelling as Grain and Scott attempted to get him to the floor. Pearl flickered her ears in amusement as she watched the bird man struggle to hold down the human while the llama boy tried to put something gray on his limps. Pearl got up and trotted over and sat down her great wolf body onto the man’s chest.

Said the man letting out an “oof” as he lost his breath. Seeing his opportunity, Scott swiftly placed gray stuff all over his limbs, all attracted to the floor. Ren, who seemingly had just woken up as well, looked at the sight with amusement. Pearl got off him and moved to stand by the llama hybrid.

Getting his breath back, Scar exclaimed, “Where did you get duct tape!? And where did you learn to use it!?” The human struggled futilely on the floor in the tape. Scott simply shrugged.

“Found it and Tango fixed a pitchfork with it so I thought I could use it on you. And it worked.” He gave a snide smirk. “Thanks for lunch by the way!”

Scott grabbed a box labeled with his name and began to head to Grian’s room. Grian followed, hopping on Scar’s stomach before grabbing his lunch box.

“That was for the boring lesson, now we’ll be in my room, socializing.” Grian chirped as he left. Ren got up and followed him, but stepped around him and grabbed his lunch.

“Later dude. Have fun laying on the hard wooden floor.” He said as he left as well.

Scar looked up at Pearl. “Can you please let me up?” Pearl snorted at the absurdity.

“Nah, mate. This is your well-deserved karma.” She stepped around him, grabbing her lunch as well but used her tail to smack him in the face before she left. She exited the room and bounded down the hall towards Grian’s room.

When she got there, she found her allies eating their box lunches. Scotts ate nearly all fruits and vegetables due to meat being hard on his digestive system. Grain had a mix of nuts and seeds, some meat scarps for him as he was an omnivore. Ren had a burger of some sort, biting into it happily. Pearl settled beside Ren and opened her box, wagging her tail as she had a nearly raw steak in her box. She grabbed it and started tearing into it eagerly.

Everyone was quiet as they enjoyed their food. It wasn’t until everyone was done completely did Grian pulled out the escape plan.

“Now let’s get down to business. We’ll go over the plan once more.” Grian looked at Ren. “When Martyn heads to bed, you’ll creep down the stairs get the key from under his bedside lamp, and leave through the front door after grabbing your things.” Grian looked down at the map he was holding, tapping on a marked house where Ren lived. “From there, you’ll go head to Scott’s place and grab the sharp clippers and free Scott and the horses.”

Grian turned to Scott. “When Ren frees you, you’ll supply the horses with everything we need and grab your gear. Then you head to me with the metal snappers. I should have grabbed my stuff by the time you have arrived, then you just need to free me.” Grian looks at Ren and points at the map. “You’ll go break Pearl out from Cleo’s with your claws to pick the lock.” Grinning, Grian finishes up, “Then we can get out of here. We just need to wait for the guard switch.”

Pearl gives a wolfish grin, “Sounds great to me. We can blow this popsicle stand.”

Scott looked at Grain and nodded, “I think that covers everything.” He speaks. Ren frowns.

“Wait, when is the shift change?” The werewolf inquires. Grian bites his lips.

“That’s the problem. It happens right before sunrise, so we need to be quick. And that’s why we need the horses.” He explains, glancing at the Pearl. “You can run faster, right?”

Pearl crosses her arms, insulted. “Of course, I can. You insult me Grian.” The parrot snickers and smiles.

“Great. So, we’re sorted.” He clasps his hands. “Now what?”

Scott pulls out a deck of cards, “Go Fish?”

=======================

Jimmy pulled his horse to a stop in front of the town hall. Tossing over towards Tango, he asked, “So where do you think Scar is today?” He asked as he dismounted his horse.

Tango looked over and snorted, “I don’t honestly know. It’s honestly impressive what they can do.” The other rancher followed Jimmy’s actions.

Jimmy tied his steed up to the fence before heading up the stairs. He shook his head slightly before sighing, “I can’t even disagree with you. The glue was incredible.” The dirty blond turned back to the other. “We probably should hurry, I bet Scar is waiting for us to free him.” Tango quickly followed his partner up the steps and headed inside.

The pair glanced around the hall before heading towards the classroom.

“Yo Scar, you here?” Tango called out, before opening the classroom door.

“I’m here!” Came the reply. “Help me, please!

Jimmy looked around confused before he saw the poor mayor. He was practically wrapped in a layer of duct tape to the floor. It took everything in Jimmy’s power not to burst out laughing. Tango excused himself before he erupted into laughter in the hallway. Scar gave him a pleating look.

Holding his laughter back, Jimmy managed to ask, “I see they did it again. How this time?” The farmer knelt, pulled a knife out of his back pocket, and began cutting away the tape, being extra careful not to nick Scar.

“I went to grab the lunch, then Grian ambushed me when I set them down on the desk.” The green-eyed man complained. “Scott then appeared with the duct tape I had on the cabinet and started taping me down. When I was almost free, Pearl sat on me!” Scar sat up, most of the tape off him.

Tango came in looking a bit sheepish, “That may have been my fault. I showed him how to use the stuff.” Scar brushed himself off.

“So, I have you to blame for this.” Scar threw up his hands as he scowled. “Thank you so much, Tango.” He said sarcastically.

Tango huffed. “We’ll reprimand Scott. Jeez, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Tango tacked on, “Plus it was Grian who tackled you.”

Scar sighed, “I know. It seems like he is getting more mischievous and chaotic recently.” Jimmy frowned slightly.

“Do you know why?” Jimmy questioned. Scar shrugged.

“Nope, but I am hoping it’s because he is settling in.”

The group of humans moved towards Grian’s room. They walked back through the main hall before going down a hallway on the opposite side of the classroom. They walked past the door leading to Scar's office, where the prison is still full of other hybrids waiting to be essentially adopted. Soon they reached the door and opened it.

What awaited made all of them fawn over the sight. All the hybrids were curled up in a pile on the bed, asleep. Pearl was curled around all of them, under the pile. Ren was lying across her wolf body, snoring slightly with his sunglasses askew on his face. Grian was in the center of the pile, wings draped across everyone, making sleepy chirps. Scott was on the other side of Grian, pressed tightly between Pearl and Grian curled into a small ball with a small smile on his face.

As much as they wanted to let the mutants sleep, they were supposed to be trouble. Tango was the one who shook Scott’s shoulder. The llama whined as he sluggishly woke up, sitting up carefully to not disturb the others. When he realized who woke him up, he gave them a sleepy sheepish smile.

“Hey…”

Tango picked him up and said, “Don’t ‘hey’ me mister.” He said, “You know exactly what you did.” The blue-haired man just whined as he was slung over Tango’s shoulder. Scott waved to the other awakened hybrids as they left the room.

Jimmy followed Tango out as he carried Scott out. “You said you were going to be good.” Jimmy chastised him. “But instead, you duct tape Scar to the floor.”

Scott grumbled, “Scar is boring. All he did was talk about manners.” Tango shakes his head.

“I know it’s boring, but you need to still be respectful of Scar.” Sighing, he shared a look with Jimmy as they left city hall. Tango sets Scott on Jimmy’s horse, much to the llamas' confusion. “That’s why something is going to change.”

Jimmy sits next to him. “This is going to sound bad, but the other day, we agreed that you need some sort of punishment for these shanghaies. And that is why we are going to move you back into the house.” The visible panic that crossed Scott’s face made Jimmy’s heart hurt. Grabbing his hands, the farmer continued, “It’ll only be for a week, darling. It won’t be so bad.”

Scott began pleading, “No, please. Don’t put me back in the house. I’ll behave better please.” The llama’s eyes watered with unsheathed tears, causing Jimmy’s resolve to fracture. “You can do anything else, but please. I can’t sleep or feel comfortable in the house. Take away my water or food but please, let me stay in the stall.” Scott begged.

Jimmy looked over to Tango, wearing a conflicted expression. Tango seemed to share a similar reaction. Neither of them predicted this strong of a reaction when they were planning this. They were expecting angry words and fighting, but not pure desperation. Scott seemed terrified of going back to the house. Jimmy bit his lip.

“We’ll talk more when we get home.” Jimmy decided.

===========================================

The trip was silent they made the trek back to the ranch. Scott's mind was buzzing with thoughts. He didn’t want to go to the house. It would ruin any plans of escaping they have been planning for the last two weeks. His ears were pinned to his head at the thought of going back to the house. The other two would occasionally glance back at him with guilty expressions as Scott hugged himself tightly.

When the llama hybrid said he would give up anything, he wasn’t kidding. He hated being locked in that room. Only himself in that small tight space. A shiver ran down his spine. He would rather be under a tree in the crimson than be back in that room unable to leave as his only will. The stall is bearable because Owen is with him. The llama is an emotional support animal.

The sudden stop of the horse realized that they were back at the house.

The blue-haired man leaped off the horse’s back and ran towards the barn, not bothering to stop as his name was called by the other two. Running into the shed, he ran to his stall and slammed the door, flopping into the hay and curling up, tears pooling in his eyes.

The llama man didn’t even look up as footsteps approached his door. Owen had leaned over the stall and was nuzzling Scott’s cheek, never liking to see the man sad. The llama snorted at whoever opened the door and bleated out at them.

“Scott…” The blue-haired hybrid didn’t even look up at Tango’s voice.

Scott mumbled, “Go away,” He pressed himself deeper into the straw, “I refuse to leave this barn.” Owen stamped his hooves with an agitated blet as the footstep closed in on him.

“Scott please, we just want to talk.” Jimmy’s voice responded.

Scott sat up and snapped at them. “Leave me be! I just want to be alone!” Tears freely ran down his face as he glared at the startled and shocked faces of Tango and Jimmy. Owen, sensing Scott’s anger and hurt, began spitting at the two. Both left the stall but Jimmy paused outside of the closed door.

“We’ll talk tomorrow morning when you have time to process this.” Jimmy sounded apologetic. “I’ll be back later with food. We are sorry we upset you darling.” He left after that, leaving Scott to wallow in his misery.

After a while, Scott stood up from his bed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, a new fire in his heart. Owen blets in concern for him, nudging his side. Sniffing, “I’m fine. I promise.” He patted the head of the animal before beginning to gather up his belongings into his original scarlet to prepare for the night.

The hybrid was tired of people pulling him this way and that. Gritting his teeth, he shoved away some ration he had been staving and filled his canteen full of water out of the water trough. He changed out of his uniform and into his colorful coat and homemade patchwork pants. His fedora was hanging on a nail on the stall wall. He snatched it off the hook and placed it on his head.

He looked at his reflection and felt more like himself than he did in a month of being there. He felt the bitterness from the betrayal rising in his chest, mixing with the new outrage. Who do they think they are to cage him like a misbehaving dog? Scott clenched his fist tightly, leaving crescents in his palms. When they are gone, they’ll see. They will all see you can’t tame the untamable. Spite coursed through his veins, after all, if he’s anything, he is petty.

A low giggle soon grew into a laugh that turned into manic insane laughter. After all, they put them through. Being petty would be merciful, but no. Scott wanted revenge. Owen gave a pleasing baa to him to see him laughing, not understanding. The chains and trying to force them into submission, treating them with fake respect but still expecting them to fall in line? Yeah, no.

Scott turned to Owen and stroked his wool as he came up with a plan for revenge, while he waited for Ren to come for him.

=========================

It was well into the night before Scott heard a rustling outside his cell. Scott perked up as Ren unlocked the door for him. He gave Ren a grin. “Took you long enough.” The llama teased the wolf. Ren rolled his eyes.

“Sorry dude, Martyn was being extra clingy tonight.” The wolf apologized. Scott brushed it off.

“It’s fine. Now I’ll get the horses out, you grab the saddles.” Scott grabbed the keys from Ren and unlocked Owen’s stall then moved onto the horses. The llama pushed open his stall and followed Scott, leaving Ren confused, but the guy didn’t question it.

Scott grabbed the three horses from the stalls as quickly as he could. He even took precautions by tying rags over the hooves while Ren saddled them.

Next, Scott went to the far side of the barn where all the tools hung. He looked at all the tools before he found the bolt cutters. He grabbed it when something else caught his eye, a lighter. He debated to himself before he snatched it as well and shoved it into his pocket. He headed back over to Ren and Owen.

“Got it, take Blossom and head over to free Pearl. I’ll bring Bubbles, Buttercup, and Owen to free Grian. We’ll meet you in the center of town.” Scott related as he mounted his horse easily. Ren saluted, doing the same to his horse.

“Got it, my dude. I’ll be back faster than a fart.” Ren announced before he took off. Scott sighed, amused by Ren’s antics. Scott led the horse and llama pair out of the barn, leaving it empty.

Pausing, Scott looked at the barn before pulling the lighter out of his pocket. He ran his thumb over the little ignition as he stared at it, before looking at the barn again. Spite shot through his mind as he opened it and tossed the lighter into a hay pile on the side of the barn. Scott ran away before he could watch it set a flame.

The blue-haired man managed to get to the town hall in record time, especially with the two animals in tow. He hopped off the horse and climbed over the fence to Grian’s window with a little difficulty but managed when Owen bucked him over the last foot. He used the chain cutters to snap off the lock then rapped on the window, letting Grian know he was there.

The avian burst out of the window, startling a surprised laugh out of Scott. Grian picked him up by the shoulders with swiftness and flapped over the fence, dropping him onto his horse and landing on Buttercup, his feather ruffled.

Grian looked a bit panicked, “We got to go! I may have done something quite stupid.” Grain urged his mount into a near sprint. Scott followed swiftly, Owen keeping up relatively well for a llama.

“What did you do!?” Scott called to him as he kept pace.

Grian bit his lip, “I may have... uh… accidentally alerted Scar when I was…” He mumbled the last part.

“What?” Scott asked as he didn’t hear him.

“I tried to steal his shiny pendant…from around his neck…when he was asleep.” Grian finished looking sheepish. “And he may have woken up.” Scott groaned as he facepalmed but knew he couldn’t say anything after the stunt he pulled, smoke was already starting to waft through the air.

“Let’s hurry, I bet the others are waiting,” Scott replied instead as he pushed his horse to a full sprint, Grian following suit.

As the blue-haired llama guy suspected, Ren and Pearl were waiting for them. Both looked bewildered as they flew down the street towards them on horseback. Scott called out to them as he and Grian dashed past, “Go! Go!” Neither needed to be told twice before they were with them.

The group charged toward the gate, no one faltering as horns sounded around them. If anything, it made them go faster. The closer the gate became, the more smoke filled the air, and a large plomb bellowed up from the air in the direction of the ranch.

Pearl called out, “Scott! What the heck did you do!?” A laugh in her voice of astonishment.

“A heat of the moment of decision you could call it,” Scott admitted as pressed close to his horse’s back.

Grian gave a startled laugh as well. “You can say that again. Did you set the barn on fire?” He questioned.

“Yep.”

The trio blinked at the straight answer they got but didn’t question it any further. After all, who are they to judge a bit of revenge?

The buildings thinned out as when they came up to the gate. The open was clear of guards, much to their surprise. But a glance to the left was the answer. The lighter had done its job, it lit the hay up which had spread to the barn. The frame was engulfed in flames, sending black into the near-dawn sky. The whole guard was firing the fire along with Jimmy and Tango.

Scott called over to the others, “Get going, I’ll catch up with you, take Owen with you.” The other three shared a look as they slowed down, just barely before seeing the look in Scott’s eyes and decided to continue. Scott watched as the others left the city until he made sure they were well and far away.

The llama hybrid turned back to the fire. A strange scent of calm washed over him as he watched the flames eat away at the old wood. He must have stood there for a good five minutes before he caught Jimmy staring at him. The blond-haired human was covered with soot and grime, tears in his eyes. They stared each other down for what felt like an eternity.

Jimmy was the one to break it. “Scott! Get back here!” The human screams in anguish.

Scott simply bowed his head to him, sad that it had to come to this. He turned and urged his horse into a trot, a free man once again, now with plenty of friends. Scott glanced back when he reached the place where he first saw the city. In his heart, he hoped that they never have to deal with another Lifer again, but in his mind, he knew his actions had consequences. He sighed and caught up to his friends who were waiting for him, who all rode into the rising sun.

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yacinthemorning · 4 months

Text

Tailored to Your Liking

Chapter 5

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Summary: Tumble Town attracts all sorts of misfits looking for a fresh start on the frontier, but everyone still needs clothes. Be it extra limbs or high temperatures, Jimmy caters to every hybrid's needs.

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Grian/Mumbo/Scar (romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic)

Warnings: Implied traumatic events, awkward flirting

Typically, Jimmy had learned over the past years, carrots could be harvested a few weeks before the sweet potatoes. This year, however, would not give him a break. Late planting, no sun, and then too much sun, gophers, and finally just plain bad luck with growth. He glared down at the pathetic yellow vegetable, hardly two inches in length compared to its towering leaves.

It would be his luck, after he’d bragged about his carrot cake to his house guest, for this to happen. Of course, he could always buy carrots from Martyn, but that wasn’t the point. Jimmy sighed, rolling back onto his behind to stare up at the sky. Did he leave them be and hope they grew a bit more into a usable size? Harvest them anyways? They couldn’t all be so small. There was no harm in leaving roots in the ground, though, if not for the gophers.

The back door swung open, letting out a puff of smoke. Said puff of smoke coughed and shook, until a face blinked out at Jimmy. “Oh, there you are!” Tango chirped.

“What did you do? I hope you didn’t get any of that in my workshop.” Jimmy clambered back up onto his feet, picking up the watering can on his way. Tango shook most of his soot off like a dog before Jimmy was able to slap the dipped kerchief onto his cheek. The blazeborn yelped, hair flickering from the shock and turning the liquid into steam. Jimmy didn’t stop until at least his face was cleared. “Look at you, it’s like you never left the mines.” He huffed.

“A minor incident may have occurred while doing some repairs.” His muffled voice explained while he tried to bat Jimmy away. “But it’s fine, I swear!” He managed to wrestle the cloth away to finish his own cleaning.

Jimmy laughed, “If you plan on working with heavy machinery you should go to a forge.”

“I wasn’t! I was just trying to reshape a part in something hot. See, Scott at the parlour gave me this ice-cream maker that wouldn’t crank, and while I was repairing it I noticed this one piece-”

“Where on earth- Tango did you use my stove for your metal work?”

Tango hunched over with a guilty grin. Jimmy groaned, rushing inside to make sure there was no major damage. His stove was open, a pair of iron tongs left half inside, with a rapidly cooling hunk of metal sitting on a brick on his stovetop. Most of the soot seemed to have wound up on Tango, both to Jimmy’s relief and annoyance. He spun around, hands on hips, and glared. “Are you daft?”

“Look, see, it’s not that bad-”

“You could have burnt the house down!”

“I took the necessary precautions! I just needed to reshape a small piece.”

“Then why didn’t you simply- you know?” He flicked his wrist and Tango’s sparking hair.

Tango’s face twisted, grabbing the hem of his shirt and fanning it. “Because the whole- you know?”

It was certainly rude, but Jimmy supposed the man knew more about his own flames than an avian. With a conceding wave, Jimmy groaned and began walking towards the cleaning closet. “See here, just…” He grumbled to himself as he tried to pull the mop out, only to find it caught on something out of sight. Just his luck. “If you’re going to be doing metalwork and the like then at least build a shed or something for it in the yard.” What all did such a task need? He didn’t know and he didn’t especially care at the moment. Maybe when he calmed down he’d happily listen to an explanation, but right now he was trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest.

So busy attempting to untangle the mop, Jimmy failed to notice the silence behind him. Not until he’d turned to his companion in search of absent assistance and was instead met with wide, red eyes. Something like wonder swam in them, along with far too many other emotions that made Jimmy tense up in his confusion. “You would let me build that?”

An ‘ of course? ’ nearly fell from his lips without thought, before he absorbed Tango’s words. Before it occurred to him the implications of his own.

Many things in Jimmy’s home had changed in the past two months. A sewing machine and new lights were gifts. Redstone tools and work boots filled spaces that had been empty before and could be emptied at any point. The extra seating in his shop and the new bed in a guest room which was formerly storage were accommodations for a second presence, but they were without character.

But a work shed…

Feathers raised on end. He turned away, focusing back on the mop, though he suddenly felt the energy to clean abandon him. “Or at least go to Impulse’s if you intend to blow up an oven.” He said instead of any of the thoughts darting around his mind. He was not his brother, he was most certainly not his brother. “I’d rather keep my house.”

Tango gaped like a fish, ready to say something, but ultimately snapped shut. He walked up, giving a small nod for Jimmy to step out of the way, and bent down into the closet. Within a few seconds the mop was in his hands and the door was closed. “I’ll clean up.”

Jimmy took a deep breath. “Okay.” A tightness encased his chest. There wasn’t time to think about it. He needed to finish gardening, then he needed to put the last touches on Lizzie’s dress before she picked it up tomorrow. Then-

“Hey, Jim?” Tango called just as the avian reached the back door. “I need to go pick some redstone up from Joe for a job.” His tail twitched, “Do you need anything?”

“Just… Pick up my order from him. And ask him when the next train shipment will be in.” Jimmy said, nearly too quiet, pulling his wings in close to his back. “It should have your nether fabrics.”

Woven straw thudded hard against the wood bar counter from the weight of the raw redstone and metal plates within. Tango’s forehead followed, groan escaping as he wrapped his arm around his face. Cold seeped into his skin from the wood for a brief moment before his own high body temperature heated it faster than it could cool him.

Heavy steps approached, and a glass was placed down next to his elbow. “Rough day already? It’s only noon.”

Tango lifted his head just enough to pout at Impulse, who smiled back. He grabbed the glass given, to discover it was only seltzer. Of course his friend would be responsible when he least wanted it. His face twisted. “I think I upset Jimmy.”

“Oh no, what did you do to the poor fellow this time?” There was more amusement than anything in his voice.

“I might have used his oven as an impromptu forge.”

“Tango!”

“It wasn’t that bad!” He knew he couldn’t defend his poor choices. “I just wanted to get the job done as quickly as possible.”

Impulse’s expression softened before he turned back to cleaning a plate, tail sweeping up in sympathy. The saloon was practically empty at this hour, all the miners back to work and most everyone else busy for another few hours. Skizz was off collecting from the brewery and Zed had run off after some bird he’d seen, leaving the two men alone. Thank the heavens, because Tango wasn’t sure he could deal with their energy at the moment. Once Impulse set the plate aside, he asked, “How much do you have saved up now?”

“Not enough.” Was the only real answer. “Less than I made at the mine in a month, and it’s not exactly reliable. I need to find a real job.”

Impulse hummed, glancing down at his bar. “You know if I could only afford it, I’d hire you.”

“I know you would, buddy.” He sighed, leaning back. “And no one wants another redstoner with Mumbo in town, not when they barely need one. The options out here are somehow both limitless and incredibly limited.”

“You could become a rancher.”

“And compete with Beef?” Tango threw his hand in the air, raised his eyebrow. “The man feeds this and every town within several days travel twice over. Best I could do is beg him to be one of his cowboys, and that ain’t exactly better than the mines pay-wise.”

“Then what about a bandit?” Impulse joked.

“Right, yeah. Because I’d be great with a gun, and I don’t personally know bounty hunters who could hog tie me before I ever sniffed a single copper.”

The two men had a good chuckle simply imagining it before the bar fell silent again. Tango fiddled with the seltzer, taking a small sip now again, mulling over his situation in his head over and over. “Maybe I should just go and beg Fwhip for my job back.”

The last clean plate was placed away, and Impulse turned his full attention onto his friend. “Even if he agreed, then you’d just be back in their barracks, wouldn’t you?” He tilted his head with a knowing smile. “You might as well move back east and get yourself an engineering job at a factory.”

Tango turned away, hiding his warming face behind his palm. “Shut it. It’s not like I can live with Jimmy forever, anyways.”

“You might, if you stopped fooling around and properly courted the fellow.”

“But that’s part of the problem!” He hissed, pushing out of the chair to throw his hands out further. “I can’t just court someone I’m leeching from. Jimmy’s real kind, but he ain’t stupid enough to accept a beggar relying on his money and home, who almost blew up his kitchen. Even a blind man can see how bad that looks.”

Impulse shook his head and dipped into a cupboard. “Well, it’s better than being a gambler or an alcoholic.”

“Setting the bar real high for me, there.” Tango slumped against the bar, glaring at his friend’s back. “One step above rock bottom. Real catch I am.”

“Downright irresistible.” A small bag was placed on the counter in front of the blazeborn. Though full, it gave way easily, and Tango suspected he knew its contents before Impulse explained. “Before you go, would you mind asking Jimmy to alter these before the dinner party? Skizz and I ordered them by catalogue but there wasn’t an option for tail or wing accommodations.”

A common story, Tango had come to learn. Catalogues often had several options for measurements and colours, but couldn’t be bothered to offer even the slightest alterations to the actual patterns. Not when they were paying some poor homebody copper on the diamond to make several a day. Normally most folks would do such small alterations themselves on work clothes. Impulse was never one too good with a needle and thread, however, and for such nice clothing it was best to leave it to Jimmy. Tango collected both the bag and grocery basket, downed the last of his seltzer, and dropped a copper before heading out. “I’ll see what he can do.”

“Don’t worry so much about Jimmy.” Said Impulse as he left. “You know he doesn’t see it that way. Take his advice and focus on getting things together. I’m sure there’s a place for you in town, whatever you want to do.”

If only life were that kind.

Jimmy had made an irreparable mess of everything.

That was the conclusion he’d come to after all these hours alone. He’d made a fool of himself making a fool of Tango and chased him off for good. Shown his true colours. Chosen his house over his housemate. All but told him to pack his bags and get out over nothing, he’d be surprised if he bothered to return. Which, in all fairness, it seemed he wouldn’t be, given how long it’d been since he left. It didn’t take three hours to shop, did it?

Well, perhaps on occasion it did, but it wasn’t as though Tango had a long list when he left. A list that, at Jimmy’s request, included the task of checking to see how much longer Tango would be in his hair. No, he had certainly made an utter mess of it all.

It was evening when Tango returned, around when Jimmy was thinking of closing up and returning to his living room to wallow in his idiocy. “I’m back.” Tango declared, distracted with balancing his acquisitions. Jimmy placed down the pattern he was cutting to rush over and help just in time before a case perched precariously fell to its doom. A true heroic moment, given the amazingly tiny gears it was filled with, spotted when they had everything placed down on the table and Tango checked it hadn’t broken open.

Jimmy didn’t bother peeking at the rest, collecting the few vegetables bought and bringing them to his cleaned kitchen. By the time he returned Tango was already sorting his redstone into the small workspace Jimmy had afforded him. His face had screwed up in concentration. A tension hung in the air for too long, Jimmy’s feathers raised on end as he waited for Tango’s usual chatter. It didn’t appear it would come. “You’re a bit later than I expected, honestly.” Stuttered Jimmy.

Tango wiped his redstone-stained hands on his pants. “I ran into Cleo on my way home. There was something jammed in her printing press. Turned out to be a frog she accidentally gazed at.” There was no need for proof, but Tango produced the small stone frog with a grin. It was, admittedly, very cute. Jimmy let his shoulders ease some, which Tango took unfortunate notice of. “What? Did… Did I miss supper?”

“No! No, I haven’t even started yet, honestly.” Jimmy assured, reminded once again of his carrot-predicament. “It, um, we’ll actually not be having cake today either. An issue came up with… ingredients.”

He got an odd look, but eventually Tango shrugged it off. “So, what’s wrong, then?” Tension now built in the blazeborn as well, his tail jerking in agitation.

Well, there was nothing else he could do now. Jimmy had been building up the nerves ever since he checked the kitchen and found it spotless. More honestly, it had been mulling in the back of his mind since he last saw Tango. Thoughts that had distracted him while doing careful work and forced him on his feet to pace out the stress. Grian always said he had a habit of shoving his foot in his mouth, but Jimmy never felt so painfully aware of it until now.

“Jimmy?”

He took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize for shouting at you this morning. I was just… No, I shouldn’t have. There’s no excuse for you to be treated that way.”

Tango’s eyes widened in shock. “Wh- No! What are you talking about, I completely deserved it?”

But Jimmy shook his head, wringing his hands nervously. Oh, he couldn’t keep still. “You absolutely did not. I panicked and didn’t listen to you. I…” He swallowed. I don’t want you to leave. How could he say that? Or any of the other thoughts that had built themselves into mountains in his mind through the day, only to crumble into nonsense now that Tango was here in front of him again? He closed his mouth before he could humiliate himself.

“I’m the one who should apologize.” Tango said weakly. He put down the frog and approached. “You’ve done so much for me, and all I’ve done is dick around, distract you, and make a mess of your house.”

“I like your mess.” The words tumbled out of Jimmy’s mouth before he could stop them. Every pin feather on his head raised, the skin under turning bright red. The universe truly despised him today.

Tango seemed unsure how to react, a nervous laugh replacing whatever he intended to say. He took his time pulling himself back together, a period in which Jimmy only marginally managed to recover himself, and walked back to the table. “I, um, got your order. And Impulse asked me to bring these suits for you to modify before the party.” He rambled, messing with the edge of the cloth.

Jimmy could work with that. He took a deep breath and let his mind shift back into work mode. “Let me see.” The clothes were laid out, both looking over what needed to be done. “Well, alterations for tails is the most common I’ve had to do, after wings.” He mused aloud, tugging at the fabric. “But if it’s for formal-wear we should make it as presentable as possible.”

Tango’s tail curled around himself, bending awkwardly to try looking at his own work pants. “You just leave a gap in the top of the seam, don’t you?”

“For your tail, perhaps.” Jimmy reached out and tugged between two fingers at the tufted end when it waved past. An affronted squeak escaped the blazeborn, his tail yanking itself away from the light grip. “It’s so thin, you don’t have to worry about your undergarments sticking out, or an embarrassment while removing them. You could have a tail sleeve if you wanted to be especially unfashionable.” He chuckled at the mental image. “Impulse’s tail is considerably thicker and less flexible, however. And those scales of his love to catch on delicate fabrics like this. It’d be best to give him a button clasp.”

“Having to make such completely different adjustments even for the exact same limb…” Tango groaned. “You’re a saint.”

“It seems like much more work when you’re unfamiliar with it.” He waved him off, reaching for the needle he’d had Mumbo modify for undoing stitches. It was so far and above using a random needle or razor. Invaluable in this day and age of mail order and mass production, but Mumbo had insisted it was a silly little gift and turned his attention to his more ridiculous inventions, in Jimmy’s humble opinion. Perhaps some other folks could stand to be a bit more reverent about Jimmy’s work like Tango, actually, or at least offer some respect. “Much of tailoring is the same task in different shapes and combinations.”

Impulse had always had similar issues with clothing as Tango- that is, the acidity in the oils from his scales loved to eat through most fibres, so his selection was limited. Wool was the best common option, of which the jacket was at least made of. Better than attempting to find Void-sourced leathers. Trousers, and the base of the tail especially, were vulnerable to deterioration and staining due to direct contact without the protection of undergarments. Jimmy contemplated if he should line it, or if it would ruin the quality. He was no high-end suit maker who confidently placed his stitching on display to the world, and he likely lacked matching material. At least he was not tasked with making hats for the drake.

He moved on to Skizz’s suit. It would be much easier despite requiring entirely new openings. Though he was not an avian, his flightless wings were feathered like theirs, only requiring minor adjustments to accommodate their motions. There was little he could do to get around the awkward way they would distort the outfit’s silhouette when in motion, the current popular fashions were not made with winged folk in mind.

“It seems crazy, with how many there are.” Tango mused, and only then did Jimmy realize he’d been narrating his thoughts while he worked. A habit he’d grown over the last several weeks.

“Yes, well, numbers aren’t especially meaningful when it comes to setting trends. It’s not the common man on the plates they display in advertisements and magazines. It’s required to look presentable, even if their form cannot fit.”

Tango’s tail twitched, his head tilting to the side. “You know, sometimes you talk like you aren’t much of a fan of your work.”

“I love my work.” Jimmy quickly defended, placing the suit back down. “It’s simply frustrating attempting to modify clothes like this to accommodate everyone it was not made for, rather than creating clothes made for them. Most people aren’t brave enough to wear something that might stand out, and I can’t blame them. You would think living all the way out here might help with that, but ‘polite society’ finds its way everywhere it seems.”

Truthfully, he had only occasionally had such thoughts until recently. Most often while working on preparing the patterns for when Tango’s fabrics got in, which had leaked into his time working on Lizzie’s gown, then retroactively in quiet moments when contemplating the work he’d done for Bigb and Ren. Tango had said so himself, Nether clothing had been draped. Why didn’t he make something similar?

Perhaps he’d taken it a bit to heart recently.

Which reminded him…

“You collected my order from Joe?” He asked. Tango perked up and ran over to the cabinet. He brought over a set of vibrant wool fabrics, placing them down spread out across the desk. Jimmy’s wings fluttered behind him.

A rich violet was lifted up by Tango. “I’m surprised you could afford these. I thought this type of thing was expensive?”

“Normally, yes.” Jimmy admitted, sorting through the shades. “These are new, though, made with a special dye. They call this one mauveine.”

Surprisingly, Tango’s eyes shone with recognition and excitement. “Oh, that was in the newspapers and magazines a few years ago. They created it accidentally from aniline. The first of its kind, they’ve started trying to make all sorts of dyes synthetically from aniline now.”

“Yes.” Jimmy replied, a bit dumbfounded. “Well, it’s becoming quite popular, and more than a few people in town are fond of these bright colours. I bought a few I could find to try.”

“They’re the way of the future.”

“That’s what Mumbo says.” He rubbed his thumb into the fabric, eyeing it with suspicion. “I’m not so sure, though. I’ve heard they fade quickly, and how safe could it be? One made recently left burns.”

The blazeborn only shrugged. “I mean, if they’re selling them even all the way out here, these ones have to be safe.”

“Or it’s the only place left where they can scam customers out of their money, like Scar.” Jimmy snorted. “You would be surprised at some of the ridiculous things I’ve seen people purchase simply because it had a lovely advert in the paper, or heard about from their second cousin in the city who insisted it was the big new thing.”

“What can I say, aren’t new inventions exciting? The mistakes are the fun part, anyways.” Came the response, followed by a cackle when Jimmy’s face twisted. “These seem to be fine, though. Your hands are as pretty as ever.”

“I change my mind. Why are you still in my house.”

Tango’s laughter only roared louder until Jimmy could no longer keep the smile off his lips and joined him. When the pair calmed down once more he pushed the mauve fabric to the side. “This isn’t quite the shade I want, though. I’ll save it for Lizzie.”

“This one’s nice.” Tango picked up another, redder shade. Next to him it certainly was, matching the fiery golds of his hair and red eyes. That was all Jimmy needed to make up his mind.

“It is.” He said, taking it from his companion. “I think I’ll use it.”

“For what?”

“Secret.”

Tango made a whine, but Jimmy held strong, only putting his finger to his lips before walking the fabrics back to the cabinet.

“How about we go make supper? Since my oven is now usable again.”

Hands flung into the air with a groan. “You mess up one time! I swear!”

“Yes, yes.” He cooed, shooing Tango off to the kitchen. “Let’s go, my little genius, you can use your blacksmithing skills on the potatoes.”

#jimmy solidarity #tangotek #solidaritek #team rancher #rancher duo #trafficshipping #mcyt #traffic series #hermitpires #alternate universe #western fantasy #fluff #hurt/comfort #slice of life #fanfiction #sharing a slice of cake

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