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thetomorrowshow · 5 months

Text

the night got deathly quiet

a secret side storyline is resolved in this update. Can anyone tell me what it is?

cw: violence, mild gore (lots of dead people), death

They hadn't expected the war so soon.

Jimmy had figured they at least had a couple of weeks. It wasn't exactly public knowledge that Scott would be touring Rivendell and therefore not available to make battle decisions, but Lizzie and Joel had both sent extra troops to strengthen Rivendell in case of an attack from fWhip.

And then the attack came from behind.

They hadn't received any reports that Mythland was even doing more than preparing armies, let alone mobilizing them. In order to surprise them, he must have moved fast.

And maybe, that's what Jimmy gets. After all, he's the one who decided to rebuild the Capitol right next to Mythland's border. Of course Sausage was going to attack, when Jimmy's certainly the weakest empire and the least likely to be prepared—and of course he managed to do it without alerting anyone, what with the Codlands right next door.

And when he does attack, it goes badly.

"Codfather, you’ve got to leave," insists Belgio, a senior member of the Cod Council. Two of his advisors had shown up at his door less than an hour ago, out of breath and terrified, to inform him of the coming armies. Emil had left almost immediately, still young enough to fight, but Belgio (old, his scales flaking in places) and remained, in some attempt to evacuate Jimmy.

Someone screams from far away, clear over the shouting of so many warriors—because all the normal noises of the city have gone silent, and even so far from the battle, in his small house at the dock, Jimmy can hear the war.

It calls to him, almost. The screams of his soldiers call for his help.

He isn't going to run from them.

"I can't," Jimmy says firmly, pulling tight the side buckles of his chestplate. "I swore an oath to protect this people—I carried them out of the clutches of the salmon, and—"

"And that is why you've got to be saved," Belgio says. "If you're to save us again, you have to make it out!"

"I can't let them die alone!"

Belgio falls silent, the rings of Jimmy's shout echoing in the small house, floating away like the dust that dances in the window's light.

Jimmy bites his lip, shifts his chestplate a bit.

"Can you get the buckle on the back?" he asks quietly. Wordlessly, Belgio moves behind him, tightens the strap and buckles it.

Jimmy lets his eyes flicker shut for a moment, almost in a wordless prayer. To whom, he doesn't know.

He just begs for the strength to defend those he loves.

"When I first saw you, I knew you were our leader," Belgio says after a moment, patting Jimmy's shoulders and snapping him out of his moment of piety. "We know that you've had lots of doubts over the years. Blood doesn't matter, Jimmy. You're our Codfather."

Jimmy nods, a lump in his throat. He doesn't know what he can even say, what he can do to make any of this situation better.

He's probably going to die, isn't he?

A year ago, he would have been more than happy to die for his country. A year ago, he would have marched out into battle without a care, only hoping to take down as many of Sausage's people as possible.

He wouldn't say he has more reason to live now. Sure, he has Scott. And Scott is . . . Scott is wonderful.

But he's always had his people.

The difference is that now, he knows the price of sacrifice. He knows that if this kingdom falls (if he leaves them without a leader), no Codlands will remain.

He has to go out. He has to try.

If he'd woken in Rivendell this morning, Scott would have stopped him from returning to the Codlands. And what good would that have done? Let it be conquered, let these people be utterly destroyed, and (being an imposter king) have no way to carry on their legacy?

At least if he dies here, he'll die a martyr.

Yet here he is, the noonday sunlight filtering in through his cabin's windows, dressing in the armor that has never seemed to fit quite right, and he wishes he were anywhere else.

He twists the ring on his left hand, once, twice, three times for good luck. He's probably not going to survive. Not a full-scale invasion. Unless he's taken prisoner, which he thinks would be unlikely—he still doesn't have the Codfather head, and his face is a little disfigured from the loss of his scales. As far as he knows, he isn't anyone recognizable. And even if someone does recognize him, the only reason he would be taken prisoner would be to gloat at Lizzie and Scott, or to torture him.

He doesn't plan on being taken prisoner.

With the addition of a wooden medallion that Belgio reverently lays around his neck (Jimmy lets him do so, shrugging away the guilt—if he remembers correctly, it signifies some prayer of strength, and he needs all the strength he can get), he's ready to leave.

He steps into the kitchen, checks his reflection in a pan hanging there. Awkward tan armor, his earfins swirling, his good old leather boots, the patchy scars on his face. Jimmy nods at himself, sweeps a hand through his perpetually messy hair.

This is it.

"I'll see you," he says to Belgio, who looks at him for a long moment before nodding, stepping out of the way of the door.

"At least think about escaping, all right?" he offers half-heartedly. Jimmy tries for a smile.

He's not going to do that.

He picks up the Codfather sword, leaning against the wall in its scabbard, and belts it onto his waist. He swallows back his anxiety, takes a deep breath, and pulls open the front door.

The dock is empty. A scrap of cloth blows through the street, the wind whistling just slightly in his ears.

And louder now, in the distance, Jimmy can hear the clashing of swords and the shouting of soldiers.

He hikes up his chestplate and starts running in that direction.

It doesn't take long at all to find the fight. He runs into some twenty of his soldiers soon enough, regrouping behind a cornerstore. The battle has already nearly reached the square beyond, and Jimmy can see more of his soldiers surging forward through the streets, weapons drawn and captains shouting.

This squadron has paused, their captain organizing them, when Jimmy runs up to them.

"Jimmy!" one of them gasps out, standing from where she's crouched behind the wall. "We thought you'd gone to safety! Why are you still here?"

"I won't abandon my people," Jimmy says, even as her face twists in distress.

"This isn't a fight, Codfather," she says urgently. "This is a massacre. We've sent as many children as we can to the Ocean, please join them and g—"

"I'm not running away." Jimmy pats her arm in what he hopes is a comforting manner, before turning to the captain of the group, identified by the blue ribbon tied hastily in their hair. "What's it like out there?"

"Mythland soldiers crawling all over the place," the Cod replies, giving him a quick salute. "They started with catapults, taking down the city walls. They've been moving in, forms of . . . thirty or forty, I'd say. Just one right after another. It's endless, sir."

"Any weaknesses?"

They shrug. "Their backs are unprotected," they suggest. "They're only in half-armor. But we haven't been able to get behind them."

They're wearing half-armor. Because of course, the Cod Empire isn't enough of a threat to bother with their backs.

It burns at Jimmy to know that they're right.

"Right. Well, we probably shouldn't sneak around behind them, we'd get surrounded," Jimmy says, turning the matter over in his mind. He thumbs the hilt of his sword consideringly. "Maybe a point formation? Break through their front line, then stab them in the back?"

"It could work," the captain concedes, glancing at a tall Cod, who shrugs hopelessly. "We'd need more numbers. Is there another group we can join up with?"

"I saw some running over there," a young Cod pipes up, pointing to the left of them, her too-big helmet slipping into her eyes. "Maybe twenty soldiers?"

"Forty isn't enough to wedge into Mythland's armies," another soldier says. "There's got to be thousands of them."

"If we can get a hundred, I'm willing to try," the captain says decisively. "There should be more on the east side, I heard from Mela that they're holding their own over there."

The east. That's the most populous part of the city. It would be best to head there anyway, make sure there aren't any more people who need to be evacuated.

"What do we know about the towns and provinces further inland?" Jimmy asks, suddenly struck by the question.

The captain shrugs. A soldier looks uncertainly at his feet.

Probably fallen or going to fall, then. There's rivers and canals running through most of the Codlands, so those could be a quick escape if the soldiers of Mythland aren't used to fighting fish hybrids. If someone could warn them. . . .

"You," Jimmy decides, pointing to the young girl. "Take the canals, go warn as many towns as you can that the war has begun. Get them out of there. Queen Lizzie or Lady Katherine will accept them as refugees, whichever empire is easier for them to get to. Got it?"

She nods, takes off at a sprint. Jimmy turns to the others, squares his shoulders.

He can do this. He managed about ten years of peace, which he thinks is pretty good for a war-ravaged kingdom. He can save it again now and lead it back into peace.

He doesn't know who he's trying to fool. He isn't even the righteous heir of this kingdom. Arguably, it's his rule that brought about this war with Mythland.

It was his rule, though, as illegitimate as it might have been. And he swore an oath when he took it upon himself to protect this people.

"To the east!" Jimmy declares, and takes off.

The east is chaos.

Yes, there are plenty of Cod defenders in the streets, but there are also hundreds Mythland attackers flooding the area. There's a house burning down (smoke is thick in the air, and those around are choking and tears stream from their eyes), a window being shattered, children screaming and running, someone is dying on his left and someone is killing on his right—

"Jimmy, behind you!"

Jimmy turns around, somehow has the ability to dodge a swing from an axe and draw his sword. He doesn't really know anything about facing off against an axe (his combat instructor had always told him to flee), so he just jogs half-backward, drawing the warrior in, until one of the soldiers in his group can stab the man in the back and take him down.

Then they keep moving, further into the battle, avoiding fights but gathering random Cod where they can, calling for soldiers as they go until they've collected a fairly large group. Probably a hundred, right? That looks like about a hundred.

"Form a wedge!" Jimmy shouts, for once glad of his naturally loud voice. The Cod soldiers obey, and they move down the large main street toward Mythland's advancing lines.

He can see the proper lines of soldiers, now, not just a mob of men in red with shining silver armor roaming the narrow Cod streets. It looks well-directed and terrifyingly intimidating, and surely far more impressive than his own small troupe must appear.

And it goes on forever. There's—the lines are endless, wave after wave of footmen rushing forward, killing Cod and barging into homes and destroying the town.

Jimmy stares for a moment, utterly overwhelmed.

His people are dying. They're being wiped out entirely, all at the will of a power-hungry king. Their culture had barely survived the centuries of subjectivity and war with the salmon. It won't survive this.

Jimmy shakes himself. It could survive this! He just has to . . . he has to save it.

"Wedge formation!" the captain from before shouts, then begins leading the pack, past individual battles and destruction and to the main lines.

It all gets blurry after that. Jimmy runs with them, storming toward the enemy, yelling instructions to his people, ignoring the way his voice shakes.

He fights. He raises his sword against people, stabs some in their unprotected backs, fights some head on. Face after face blends together as Jimmy almost mindlessly swings his sword (he's been training with it every week for the past ten years, and while he isn't perfect he's certainly a force to be reckoned with), one thought running through his brain on repeat: save them. Save them. Save them.

He isn't sure how long it is before he hears calls of retreat. The Cod numbers have dwindled around him, his soldiers collapsing one by one under the weight of just how many Mythlanders there are. And more are still coming—Jimmy looks up at some point and sees so many footmen, so many knights on horses, there's too many the world is going to end—

He falls back with everyone else, weaving into the smoky streets among fleeing and screaming people, shouting soldiers, a fry crying for its mother, all hazy and uncertain—

Then a shout rouses him from the depths of his mind.

"That's him! That's the Codfather!"

He whirls around, trying to spot anyone who might have—there. A smug-looking knight on horseback, pointing to him and shouting to his comrades, and now there are five or six or seven Mythland soldiers moving toward him.

Jimmy curses under his breath, wipes a trickle of sweat from below his ear.

He doesn't really want to die here, but maybe he can draw enough Mythlanders his way that he can distract them from his people.

It's not suicide. Maybe he can get to his cabin, grab his elytra off the hook by the door and get away—or jump into a canal and swim out.

A glance into the nearest canal tells him that others have tried the same thing. Bile rises to his throat; dead Cod are floating, belly-up, arrows piercing them all over, the canal running red with blood.

He hopes the young girl he sent made it out. He hopes she didn't have to swim by any bodies.

He fears that neither hope has any truth to it.

An arrow whistles past Jimmy's ear, and he takes that as his cue to start running.

Sausage's men must have a line of bowmen behind the main advances, and if one has shot for him, it must mean that the endless sea of red soldiers has an end, and behind that end is the archers. If Jimmy could gather another group, sneak in behind the lines, they could get the archers. Bows aren't really made for hand-to-hand contact, so they could probably just take them all out and stop any more airfire from hitting his soldiers.

But then that group would surely perish. Every one of those soldiers would be surrounded. Jimmy doesn't know if their wedge did any real damage—he couldn't tell from the thick of it—but they'd had a way out. Killing the archers would cost more than it would save.

And now he really has to get going, because there are more soldiers coming in droves and several of them are aiming for him.

He turns on his heel and sprints off, dodging the battle at every turn. There are still too many citizens among the fighting, why haven't they fled—there's an older gentleman that he shoves into a house, a child that he picks up with one arm and carries a short distance until he finds a fleeing man who can get her to safety.

He rounds a corner in a winding street (skipping over bodies all the way down, he knows he's headed toward more death) to find two Mythland soldiers fighting one Cod soldier, the Cod's energy clearly flagging. Jimmy leaps into the fight, stabbing one soldier through his unprotected side.

"Go!" he shouts to the Cod, and xe stumbles away, sword hanging loosely at their side.

Jimmy makes quick work of the other Mythlander, kicking her in the knees to get her down before knocking the hilt of his sword against her head. Then he continues down the street, covering his mouth as the stench of smoke grows stronger, until it opens up into a plaza—the plaza that Jimmy knows to be the center of the city.

The plaza is destroyed, entirely unrecognizable as what was surely once a pleasant hub of energy—there's people screaming everywhere, shattered pottery and trampled food and bodies on the ground, a dog barking, soldiers killing without consideration, market stalls burning and in disarray, horses rearing. . . .

There's so much, and Jimmy moves to go forward, eye catching on a Mythlander about to kill a defenseless Cod, when a hand catches his arm, pulling him back into the doorway of a shop.

"Codfather," this new soldier begs him, a Cod instantly recognizable as part of Jimmy's Rivendell guard, shouting to be heard above the turmoil. "Leave! Free us later, you can't save us now!"

Jimmy can't leave, though.

Not when his people are dying before his very eyes. Not when he can save at least one life.

He promised to be willing to die for these people. He has to keep that promise.

Anyone can lead a country—he's living proof. But not everyone will lay down their life for another, no matter their station. And the latter is the kind of Cod that Jimmy wants to be.

He claps the soldier on the shoulder. "You get out," he tells him. "Will you abandon your country in this time of need, or keep fighting to save those weaker than you?"

The soldier looks down at his feet, then back up, teary determination in his eyes, soot and dirt dulling his scales (as if the battle has drowned his light). "I fight with you," he says.

Jimmy grins. "Good. What's your name?"

"Micah."

"You've accompanied me to Rivendell before?"

Micah nods.

Jimmy squeezes his shoulder. "Well, Micah," he says, "maybe we'll both get to see those mountains again."

And with that, he hefts up his sword and charges into the fight.

He dispatches a Mythland soldier immediately, striking down a second one as soon as he gets near enough. Jimmy's blood is pounding in his ears, his heartrate elevated. He knows how to fight. Better than many rulers, probably, forced to fight since before he was even declared Codfather, and expected to defend if there was ever an attack.

He licks his lips, twists his sword around in his hand before plunging it into the back of another enemy. Maybe they can barricade off the plaza, only leave one street open so only one soldier can get in at a time? It wouldn't be permanent, but it might last long enough for them to hold their own until they had a chance to flee, or until some sort of back-up arrived.

There isn't back-up coming, though. Nobody knows this is happening. Nobody knows the Cod Empire is falling.

Jimmy fends off a spearman, knocking the spear out of their hands before slamming the flat of his blade into the side of their head. He's got this. He knows how to dance this dance, knows how to look for weak spots.

This soldier relies too heavily on his shield, blocking every one of Jimmy's hits with it rather than his sword. Jimmy goes for a wide cut on his unprotected side, takes him down, then spins to the side to dodge a swing from a man whose balance is off, feet too flat. He steps in past his range, shoulder-checks him to knock him back, then stabs him through the shoulder.

"The Codfather!" the next soldier greets him, smiling sharply. "I"ll be honored for killing you."

"Not if you're dead," Jimmy grunts, swinging his sword into the soldier's neck and partially decapitating him, his body collapsing instantly.

There's another one waiting behind, and Jimmy steps back to dodge a strike and something rolls under his feet—he slips back and trips, barely manages to catch his feet under him before he falls into the canal behind him. He glances down—just for a moment—and sees the arm of the Cod's body that he'd slipped on—

Then, with a burst of blinding pain, a sword drives its way around his chestplate and into his shoulder.

He gasps a little bit, the world slowing around him.

There's a sword in his body.

It cut through his flesh like a knife through butter, straight into that space between his shoulder and his chest, and there's metal separating tendons and flesh and he's going to die—

The sword is drawn out, and Jimmy stumbles forward with it, the shiiick of the sword being removed echoing in his ears.

He's—he's fine. It's not a fatal wound. It's just—just blood, soaking his tunic, sticking to his skin. He's bled before. It's not too serious to have it outside of his body.

"I got him!" a woman—the person who stabbed him—shouts. Jimmy glares at her, the world around him coming starkly (too starkly, everything just a little too bright) back into focus. Nobody who's smug about it is going to kill him.

He hefts his sword back up, ignoring the pain shooting out from his shoulder, ignoring the slight wooziness that tugs in the back of his mouth.

He swings at her, more precisely and accurately than he expected, cutting down into her shoulder and neck.

She collapses when he yanks his sword out of her collarbone, but her call had brought others. There are three more approaching, lifting their weapons.

Something that Jimmy would say is one of his worst qualities is his stubbornness. Lizzie has got on him time and time again for never backing down from a fight he can't win.

And this is one with no hope.

So Jimmy takes a deep breath and fights.

He takes down two of them before the third gets past his defenses, slashing a sword deep across his thigh.

His leg gives out, spurting blood everywhere, the cut burning somewhere beyond Jimmy's consciousness. He falls to his knees, stabs up under the chestplate of the soldier—and there are four more behind her.

His arm shakes as he stabs the knee of the first soldier, then hits them in the side when they twist downward. He adjusts his grip on the sweat-stained leather of his sword, adds his other (heavy, near-useless) hand to it.

He manages to kill the next soldier before he gets hit again—he dodges, bending to one side, but the sword swinging at his head manages to clip his earfin, neatly slicing off a piece of it that falls to the ground beside him. He aims up, stabs that man through the chin—

His back stiffens as cold metal shoves down in the back of his chestplate and pierces into his flesh, stabbing through his back—through—through—through his body and angling down, in his back and down, and Jimmy can't move, he's skewered on this sword, he chokes on nothing as his eyes go wide and it hurts—

Another shiiick with a tiny little squelch, and the sword is removed with a jerk that pulls a sound from Jimmy's lips that's something in between and grunt and a whimper.

The enemies around him (for they truly are surrounding him, at least five, hazy and out-of-focus) go still, their weapons lowering.

Jimmy's arms drop to his side. His grip on the sword loosens. Someone screams in the distance, distorted by his uneven ears.

No.

One of the Mythlanders—a man with a grey beard, his armor old and unpolished—kneels before Jimmy, puts his hands on either side of Jimmy's head.

There's something proud about the way he holds his chin, something . . . something different in his eyes. Jimmy doesn't know what. All Jimmy knows is that he suddenly feels cold.

"You fought admirably, son," he says, voice low and gravelly. "There are those of us in Mythland yet who respect a warrior, despite the actions of our king. Go into the next life without fear, for you will be honored."

Jimmy stares blankly at him. There's hot blood pooling in the back of his tunic, running in rivulets down his back. He can't move his left arm, blood caking under it. His thigh is wet with the stuff; blood trickles down the side of his neck.

He's so cold.

The man tips Jimmy's head forward, places a scratchy kiss on his forehead. "Rest easy," he murmurs, before standing, picking his sword back up and turning away into a blur of color.

Jimmy slumps forward against his will, slowly falling onto his stomach, cheek landing against the dusty cobblestone. He doesn't feel the way the fall jostles his wounds. He doesn't feel anything but cold.

The boots that stand in front of his eyes are new, splashed with blood on the toe.

"Finally," the person says distantly. "I've been chasing him for twenty minutes. Fought like a dog."

And then, with a noticeable plop on his back, he spits on Jimmy.

One of Jimmy's other worst qualities, in his opinion, is pride. And somehow, his pride is stronger than the cold darkness pulling at him.

And his sword is still in his hand.

Gathering every last ounce of strength that he has, Jimmy strikes out to the side, slashing through those new boots and cutting into the calf.

The man curses, leaps away. Jimmy can't help but smirk a little, lips feeling numb. His fingers lose grip of his sword, his vision blurs further.

"Why isn't he dead already—"

A boot slams into his head and the fuzziness goes black.

"Just roll them into the canal. We'll have the Cods fill it up with dirt."

"Glad we don't have to carry them all the way to the fields. The savages fought hard, I heard they're still loading the wagons with ours."

"Have you heard anything about Daniel?"

"No, haven't seen him. Whose squadron was he in?"

"Twenty-third, Hal's group. He's my wife's brother."

"You'll probably have to be the one to tell her, then. If he's dead."

"And his husband. They'll be heartbroken."

"Mm. Oh, urgh—their weird scale things always grossed me out."

"It's the ears for me. Every time I went to market there'd be one of them selling something stupid. My daughter thinks they're terrifying, would scream when we passed by."

"She's right. They're freaky-looking. I was glad to kill a few."

"Are you two working, or talking?"

"Milord!"

"Working, sire, our apologies."

"Your majesty, what brings you out here?"

"I received an urgent report from one of my captains. You haven't seen a Cod body—hehe, Coddy—with scars on his face? Blond hair, tall, lots of scars?"

"None that match that description yet, sire. If we see one—"

"No need, I'll search with you. Are we just rolling them into this river-thing?"

"Yes, milord. Allow us—"

"Oh—"

"There it goes!"

"Right, and now the next—"

"Oh! Is this the one you're looking for?"

". . . Well. Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. Scott wasn't here to save you this time, was he?"

"Is that. . . ?"

"Friends, this is—or, was—the Codfather."

"Looks like he put up quite the fight. There are so many bodies around him."

"He's drenched in blood. Must have been painful."

"It was supposed to be fWhip to kill him, I think. He always wanted to. He isn't going to be too happy about this, let me tell you!"

"Do you need the body?"

"And stink up my kingdom by bringing back a dead fish? Roll him into the river with the others. But give me a second with him, all right?"

"Yes, milord."

"Of course, your majesty."

"Honestly, Jimmy, I think this look is an improvement! You think Scott is into this, all this blood and guts? You never know, elves are a little freaky! . . . Well, I can't say I'll miss you. I loved messing with you, but I can find a new game. Look, if you get to heaven, tell 'em to let in your old pal Sausage! And if you end up in hell . . . tell 'em the same thing! Covering all my bases, you know? . . . I guess this is goodbye! See ya, Jimmy!"

"It's close enough to the canal, we won't even have to touch it, really."

"Just kick it in."

"You two take care of that! Oh, I can't wait to tell Scott. . . ."

"All right, I'll just—"

"And I'll—"

"There it goes! Which one next?"

"Let's keep going along this way, and when. . . ."

That night, the Cod Empire is deathly quiet.

Smoke hangs like a cloud over the Capital, some buildings still burning (pointless from the beginning, yet even after the battle had been won there were celebrating soldiers setting fire to cabins and shops, destruction just a mark of victory). Bodies line the streets, half the canals filled with the dead.

There are some still living. Soldiers who had surrendered, children and caretakers and disabled who weren't able to escape but were able to hide. They do not sleep, fearing what the morning will bring. Will King Sausage order their deaths? Will he move through their land to the ones beyond? Will he demand slavery of them, even the children?

A father bundles up his baby and waits for a change in guard at the docks, then slips into the water and swims away, heading for the Ocean Kingdom. Another Cod tries the same thing and is caught with an arrow in their throat.

Those who remain hide in their homes, curtains drawn, and hold each other, too fearful to try to contact friends and family to see if they still live. They daren't go outside, lest they join the bodies in the streets.

They all know that their Codfather has fallen. That news had been shouted through the town, on every gory street and dock, until all in the town silently despaired and knew that they were doomed.

Lord Sausage, King of Mythland, returns home and writes a gloating letter of conquest, which reaches all of the empires before the night ends. One day of battle, and the Codlands has been conquered. He doesn't write of the fate of the Codfather, relishing the opportunity to tell the Ocean Queen and Lord Smajor in person.

In the canals are hundreds of bodies. An older Mythland soldier on guard frowns as he stares down at the disturbing piles of dead, on top the pale body of a guard named Micah, and shakes his head in disgust.

In the canal near the center of town, under two other bodies, completely submerged in the dirty water, is the body of the Codfather. His hair floats in the water, his face almost unrecognizable, bloated in death, painted with blood and mud.

It's the dark of midnight, not even lit by the moon, only the dim stars twinkling down. The body of the Codfather rocks a little bit with the shift of the water, little ripples coming from seemingly nowhere, traveling down each canal.

Something rumbles, deep underground.

The water picks up, tiny ripples becoming actual waves, crashing against the land and shoving the bodies from side to side, piles spilling over and sending dead Cod flopping to the land—almost as if a storm is brewing, though the skies are clear as can be.

The Mythlanders on guard around the town laugh nervously, step away from the canals, as the bodies seem to thrash in the choppy water.

And in the canal near the center of town, the Codfather lies in the water.

His eyes flash open.

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holtthepickles · 2 months

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Rant

Okay so I finished the MH webisodes today and I gotta say, the last episode really pissed me off. Basically the premise is that the Ghouls were told to write an essay on why they belong at Monsters High, and instead made a group video where they each stated their reasons. Dandy? Sure, except every single character featured was irrelevant.

Typically, the purpose of a finale is to mirror the first scene so we can see how the characters progressed. Instead, this finale featured characters who were just introduced or has as little as one episode of screen time.

At the very least, the main ghouls (Frankie, Drac, Claw, Cleo, Ghoulia and Lagoona) showed up, but the final episode felt pointless and lacklustre. Also, a good chunk of the last volume felt like one big advertisement (which by all means, that’s usually the purpose of cartoons for toys).

Now, how could this have been improved?

I honestly think they could’ve ended it after the Freak Du Chic episode. This arc had high enough stakes that they could’ve used this to express how much the characters progressed and developed throughout the course of the series. Well, as long as they actually gave the main ghouls AND mansters their deserved screen time.

Of course, we can’t actually expect decent writing from the G1 writers, but I really would’ve liked to see more minor characters like Abbey, Heath, Clawd and Deuce get the endings they deserved instead of being overshadowed by new characters that nobody cared about.

#This ended up being more of a rant so basically #also characters like Toralei Gil and Jackson #Jackson especially because he was overshadowed by Holt a lot #anyways lmk what you think #scroll if not because this wasn’t for the sake of discourse #mh gen 1 #mh generation 1 #monster high #monster high gen 1 #monster high generation 1

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the-valiant-valkyrie · 1 year

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and um. yeah if it isn't obvious already. i'm not posting any of it until i finish all of it. bc im scared i won't finish it at all otherwise 😎

#Feed the Roses #i am amazed about the surplus of practical uses i've discovered for polls #its like i can almost pretend im a normal human being #anyways. my old due date is coming up again... feb 14th #i'm disappointed i couldn't reach it. but college is hard. and i'm still going to get it done #i'm trying not to put too much pressure on it. perfection is the bane of creativity and all that #anyways lmk what you think

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effervescentdragon · 2 years

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galex + ducks

The fact is, George knows something is wrong between him and Alex. He knows. He's not stupid. He's the farthest thing away from stupid actually, if he may say so himself. (And he does; often. Just not out loud, and not to other people. His mother told him it makes him look self-conceited, even if it's just facts. Georege's mother is a very smart woman, though, so he figured he should listen to her.)

So he knows something is broken, but he cannot, for the life of him, figure out what exactly it is.

He's tried everything. He went through his memories, went through every single interaction they've had since the beginning of the year. Went through social media, and went through it extensively. Watched all the videos they did together, ever since George's move to Mercedes and Alex's move to Williams. Tried to look at it all objectively, and see if maybe he overstepped at some point, or if he accidentally offended Alex.

(He wonders if he came off too strong. He wonders if his feelings for Alex have become obvious, if he gave himself away, if Alex finally saw what every tease and every touch and every look meant. What it has always meant to George, and what it still means. Sometimes he thinks Alex can't not know how George feels. Sometimes he feels transparent, made out of celophane, his feelings out for the world to observe, and it seems impossible to him that Alex doesn't know. Alex muat know, he thinks. He must. It's obvious. And sometimes that thought hurts so much, he can't breathe.)

"Hey Georgie, what's up?"

George looks at Alex, fist-bumping him automatically. Alex's smile is wide, and beautiful, as it always is. He looks expectant, like he wants to know the answer to his question. Like he cares. George can't take it.

"I have to go feed the ducks," he says. Alex's face scrunches up in confusion, and he looks around to where Charles is just pulling up in his Ferrari, fighting with Pierre about something in the front seat, with Lando and Carlos behind them in a McLaren, everyone congregating to the golf course where they're all supposed to play a game now.

"Georgie, I - what -" Alex stammers, but George can't take it. It feels like he's suffocating, like he can't take a breath that isn't permeated with Alex and with pain and with pure hurt.

"I - ducks - I have to go," he manages to bite out, and turns around, and gets back into his car, leaving a very confused Alex to explain, well. He doesn't know. He can't think about it. He needs to get away.

The fact is, he does actually go to feed the ducks.

It's a thing he's been doing since he was a kid. His older siblings would be made to take him along when they hung out with their friends, and one day one of them bought him a packet of bread and told him to feed the ducks. So he did, and he loved it, he begged to be taken again, and again, and again. It calmed his mind, which was prone to overthinking and overreacting, so now whenever he needed a moment, he'd search for where there are ducks and then go and feed them.

So he sits on the bench, and tears pieces of bread metoculously, and feeds the ducks, and forces himself not to think about anything.

Someone sits next to him. He barely notices. He hopes it's not a fan. He's too tired to play nice, and he will, because he has to.

"Wanna tell me what the fuck that was about, Georgie?"

George closes his eyes. Of course; he should've known. Alex is still his best friend. He still knows George.

He can't speak, so he just shrugs, his gaze firmly on the ducks in the pond. Alex shuffles closer, his thigh close enough that George can feel his body heat.

"Well, I have nowhere else to be, since my partner ditched me right before the game," Alex says conversationally, but there's something deeper underneath his tone. George focuses on tearing up more of the bread. "So I left the lovebirds to demolish each other, and I came to see what it is that's bothering my best friend so much that he has to go dissociate to his happy place with his ducks on a Saturday afternoon."

George's eyes sting. He hates that Alex knows him so well. It hurts, because that's all they are. Best friends. And that is amazing, but George has never known how not to want it all. He's never known how not to want Alex.

They sit in silence. George knows Alex can be patient. It doesn't come easy to him, but he tries. He always tries for George. And George can't - he just can't.

"Georgie, please," Alex says softly. "Just tell me what's wrong. Whatever it is, it's not the end of the world. I promise."

George can't speak. He can barely move. He also can't go on like this. He throws the rest of the bread at the ducks, and they descend on the big piece, and he turns to Alex for the first time since the golf course.

Alex is looking at George softly, only the crease between his brows betrays his worry. He is beautiful, like the sun, and he looks at George with such affection, Gworge thinks he may die of it.

"I want to kiss you," George says, because he can't hold it in any more. "I've wanted to kiss you since you were fifteen, and I can't take this anymore, I can't keep thinking that you know how I feel and are choosing to ignore it, or that you really don't know because it hurts, Alex, it hurts here," he puts a hand on his chest and tries to breathe through the thunder that is his heart. "I need you to know, and I need you to tell me you don't feel the same, because I can't be in this limbo anymore. And if that means we can't be friends anymore, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I just - I can't live like this anymore."

He looks away feom Alex's face then, scrunched in surprise, a turmoil evident in his expression. He turns away, because he is a coward after all, and he can't look at Alex as he breaks George's heart. He looks at the two ducks fighting over the last of the bread, and hopes the smaller one gets it.

"Come with me," Alex says in an even voice, and grabs his wrist, and pulls. "We can't talk about this in public."

George stands up and follows Alex to his own car, and gives Alex the keys when he asks for them. He feels numb. He sits in the passanger seat and lets Alex drive, not able to concentrate on anything.

The silence in the car is deafening.

Alex drives until he finds a secluded road, and he drives some more until they are parked underneath a sycamore tree. Alex shuts off the car and exits it, and George has no choice but to follow.

Alex is on his side of the car when George gets out, and when he closes the door, Alex crowds him against it.

"Georgie," he says, and his eyes and voice are too gentle, and they cut at George's heart. "You are so stupid sometimes," Alex says, and smiles. He brings his hand to George's cheek, his thumb caressing George's collarbone. "I've wanted to kiss you since I was fifteen, too," Alex says, and George stops in his tracks, and then stops breathing, because Alex leans in and then his lips are on George's.

It's just a peck on the lips, their first kiss. George is frozen. Alex's other hand comes to his hip as he moves a bit away.

"I'm in love with you," Alex says, and George blanches. "And I want to kiss you all the time, and we need to talk about how you absolutely weren't obvious and how I was the obvious one, but right now, I'd like to kiss you properly?"

George doesn't think this is real. He doesn't think he can breathe. He doesn't think he's awake, he must be dreaming, or something equally heartbreaking.

But Alex's hand on his hip is solid, and Alex's thumb is still caressing George's cheekbone, and Alex's eyes are doing that thing where they crinkle around the corners because he is honestly, genuinely happy.

"Alex," George says, and chokes up, because he wants to say Are you serious and Please don't joke with this and Please don't break my heart and I love you, but he can't, so he just repeats "Alex", like a plea, and a promise, and a prayer.

Alex smiles. "I know, Georgie," he whispers, and his lips are so close, George can taste his breath. "Me too."

Their eyes meet, and George swallows, and brings his hands up to touch Alex's hair, and to hold onto his shoulders, and then he nods, and Alex ducks his head a little and then they're kissing, finally, properly.

It's the best first kiss of George's life. Alex steps closer, and George can feel the Mercedes dig into his back, but he doesn't care, can't care, because Alex is right there, and he's kissing George with everything he has, holding him close, so close George can feel his breaths on his own chest.

They kiss for a long time, and then they kiss some more, lips and tongues and teeth, and through it all, their hands find each other and they hold onto each other. They have a lot to talk about, lots of things to clarify and deal with, but for the first time in forever, George doesn't care about the future and what it holds.

Why would he think of the future, when in the present, he is finally kissing Alex, and Alex is holding him like he's somting precious, something to be cherished, and kissing him back?

George knows many things, really. But the thing he is most certain about is that whatever happens, whatever was wrong with him and Alex, after today, it can, and will be fixed.

That's all secondary, though.

Alex sighs into his mouth and kisses his top, then his bottom lip, and George kisses him back and thinks I need to take more bread to the ducks, as a treat, and then Alex pulls him closer, ane George forgets about everything that isn't Alexander Albon, his best friend, and, if he dared say it, probably also the love of his life.

He doesn't dare say it.

At least not yet.

#akira answers asks #galex #george/alex #one! braincell bestie #my writing #f1 rpf #effervescentdragonwrites #starting on absolute insane amount of niamhs prompts #i n3eded something soft #i tyoed this in an hour on my phone excuse the misrakes #soft bois <3 #im a sucker for them but nobody ever prompts me #anyways lmk what you think

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heynhay · 10 months

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and there's nothing i can do, not much i can change, so i give it up to you. i hope that's okay.

#LAUREL HELL PRESENT AND SPEAKING!!!!#klance #voltron #vld #what do you think the scene lore is here. i have something in my head but im not sure it came across so lmk im curious #sorry the caption is so long but yall really needed it all and SOME of you cant be trusted to listen to the mitski accompaniment... smh....#anyway trying to keep my wall of tags more brief so ciao cya later #art #my art #mitski

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emergingghost · 3 months

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julien baker live lyric changes masterpost

the many ways that julien changes her lyrics over time and seamlessly alters the lyrics and meanings of her songs to maintain a level of personal authenticity has become so fascinating to me and many others so i thought it'd be nice to do some research and compile as many as i can. enjoy! or cry! whichever!

the original lyrics are in parenthesis, changes are bolded, roughly in chronological order and i’ve added timestamped links to performances [x] where i can! i use mostly youtube because it's the most accessible. some of these seem to be permanent changes and others are just occasional, probably depending on how she's vibing with the song at the time (i'm assuming). let me know of any i’ve missed!

Rejoice: [x] [x] [x] pronoun change, does this lots! "i know there's a god and they hear either way" ("i think there's a god and he hears either way") [x] she uses the 'she' pronoun here this time! [x] she sings 'force' here and also in a version she performed pre-release "asking why did you let them leave and then force me to stay?" ("asking why did you let them leave and then make me stay?")

Good News: [x] [x] [x] these are not full lyric changes but rather some gut-wrenching repetition. side note she performs a cover of paul by big thief in the first clip here too! "it's less about you / it's all about how i ruin everything oh everything i do / everything i do / god i ruin everything oh everything / oh everything i think could be good news." ("it's less about you / it's more about how i ruin everything--- i think could be good news")

Distant Solar Systems: [x] pronoun change speaking of god, she also omits the second last verse. "I send postcards from the road and now and then she answers" ("and now and then he answers")

Turn Out the Lights: [x] [x] [x] this one hurts! a few times in late '18 and in '19 "maybe i'd do it but it's not a joke" ("i'd never do it but it's not a joke")

Sour Breath: [x] [x] another one that hurts!! "think all the liquors gonna keep me warm / burn everything down just to prove i could / leave you inside a body made of wood" ("think all the liquors gonna keep you warm / burn everything down just to prove you could / leave me inside a body made of wood") [x] audio only from 1:16 (same changes as above +) "i don't do too well when everyone's worried about me" ("i don't do too well when nobody's worried about me")

Appointments: [x] [x] [x] in lots of performances post-2018. she switches between using 'know' and 'think' occasionally “i know that i ruined this / but i think i can live with it / nothing turned out how pictured it ... i think that i failed again / but i know you’re still listening” ("i think if i ruin this / that i know i can live with it / nothing turns out like I pictured it ... i think if i fail again / then i know you’re still listening") [x] audio only - from 2:45 (same changes as above +) "i hope you're still listening" ("i know you're still listening")

Happy to Be Here: [x] tiny changes. not sure if she's done this more than once "different me would be inhabiting my body / have two cars, a garage, a dog..." ("different me would be inhabiting this body / have two cars, a garage, a job...")

Something: [x] [x] [x] [x] (she adds 'again' a lot, even since 2015) “asking aloud why you’re leaving again” (“asking aloud why you’re leaving--”) [x] (this was prior to release) "asking aloud why you're leaving again / i know you won't answer me" ("asking aloud why you're leaving --- / but the pavement won't answer me")

Red Door: [x] "beneath before you won't follow me down" ("beneath before you wont follow me there")

Shadowboxing: [x] [x audio only - from 3:09] "tell me that you love me / tell me you love me / i wanted so bad to believe you / so tell me you loved me / tell me you loved me / i wanted so bad to believe you" ) ("when you tell me you love me / tell me you loved me / i wanted so bad to believe it / so tell me you love me / tell me you loved me")

Ziptie: [x] [x] [x] [x] (side note the end of the second clip rules!!) “someone’s/somethings got my heart in a ziptie” (“someone’s got my head in a ziptie”)

Tokyo: [x] [x] [x audio only - from 1:30] in a few performances in 2022 “a seven-car pile-up of every disastrous thing that i am" (“a seven-car pile-up of every disastrous thing that i’ve been”) + also sings "accident" instead of "aftermath" in the audio clip

Relative Fiction: [x] [x] [x] [x] does this lots! "honey you're the only thing i'll wait around for" ("--you’re the only thing i’ll wait around for")

Highlight Reel: [x] [x audio only from 1:45 ] original chorus lyrics are 'you feel' but now in one chorus she sings 'to' and the other she sings 'you' "ooh it's a highlight reel / tell me how to feel" ("ooh it's a highlight reel / tell me how you feel")

Ringside: [x] [x] [x audio only from 3:50] two separate lyrics changes in these clips! "like a scratch-off ticket how i dig my nails into your skin" ("like a scratch-off ticket how you dig your nails into my skin")

(from final verse) “nobody deserves a second chance / so why do i keep getting them?” (“nobody deserves a second chance / but i keep giving them”) [x] [x] (from the second last verse) “nobody deserves a second chance / but somehow i keep fucking getting them” (“nobody deserves a second chance / but honey i keep getting them") Anti-Curse: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] she doesn't always change 'foreign characters' "writing the words to the best love song you've ever heard" ...“sounding out familiar characters” ("writing the words to the worst love song you've ever heard"...“sounding out the foreign characters”)

Favor: [x] [x] [x] [x] first change - changing to 'why?' in most live performances “why couldn’t you make me do it?” (“well you couldn’t make me do it”) [x] [x] new change from MSG in 2023! “how did you make me do it?” (“well you couldn’t make me do it”)

HONOURABLE MENTIONS:

Funeral Pyre: [x] this is just a funny thing i found on my hunt. the audience accidentally corrected her grammar, theyre singing along and sing "needed so badly" instead of the original "needed so bad" and everyone took a lil' moment to laugh. Funeral Pyre: allegedly. i just read about it somewhere so have no proof!! “while i drank gasoline 'cause it's what i needed so bad” (“while you drank gasoline 'cause it's what you needed so bad”) Shadowboxing: [x] she doesn't really change any lyrics significantly but repeats the final verse for emphasis.

Good News: [x] (i think an early/demo version but i cant find any other recordings/videos of this version!) "how i fuck up everything i think could be good news" ("how i ruin everything i think could be good news") Rejoice: [x] house show performance from 2015 before official release. a few different lyrics! "ask you why did you let them leave and then force me to stay?" ("asking why did you let them leave and then make me stay?") (final verse) "i rejoice anyway / i rejoice either way" ("i rejoice i rejoice / i rejoice i rejoice") Sour Breath: [x] she added a new mini verse repeating "the harder i swim" where there are usually just instrumentals or 'oohs.' then she continued with the original final "the harder i swim the faster i sink" verse.

Sour Breath: [x] house show performance from 2015 before official release. there's an entire additional verse where the repeated 'the harder i swim the fast i sink' usually is. proceed with caution. "...too late to talk just go to sleep been up too long and you've been drinkin' all night it's almost a week and you haven't said a word been thinkin' it isn't worth the tryin' it takes to fix everything you hate about me all that you wouldn't wanna see

the harder i swim, the faster i sink and all i ever wanted was to pull you down with me was to pull you down with me don't you wanna sink with me? don't you wanna drown with me? just let me pull you down..."

#julien baker #boygenius #lyrics #there are probably many more but the internet is infinite and this post would never see the light of day if i kept searching #some of these changes are so minor but i thought id add them anyway because i personally found them interesting #lmk what you think if u read this i know its loooong haha <3

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puppyeared · 1 year

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Once upon a time

#I want them to lose focus and have a consensual workplace relationship 🥺🥺#ALSO WHAT?. SEASON 4 DROP OUT OF NOWHERE WHAT? AND WE GET SHADOWPEACH BACKSTORY CRUNBS???#can’t get over macaque’s face in That photo. I know what you are #I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS FOR THEM THOUGH UGHHHGFDO #like I have the model sheet for macaque and it shows him with his six ears and it says only to draw the six ears if extreme closeup but i #can’t find a single screen cap in the show with his six ears #I’d like to think wukong would have been one of the first ppl he’d show them to if he always has his glamor on them. PLS IT WOULD BE SO CUTE #like the glamor comes off his scar and someone pointed out his tail switching between black and white and a theory he’s using glamor on his #fur too. but he never ever takes the glamor off his ears which I want to believe is more than just the crew not drawing ‘em #I’m gonna be honest I’m only gonna watch season 4 when dub comes out but. that’s not gonna stop me from peeping the tags since I don’t under #understand the subs anyway.#first shadowpeach art too let’s gooooo. im so normal about them (lying)#my art #myart #Lego monkie kid #lmk #monkie kid #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #six eared macaque #sun wukong #shadowpeach #lmk fanart #lmk wukong #lmk monkey king #lmk six eared macaque #lmk season 4 spoilers #lmk season 4 #lmk spoilers

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thepunkmuppet · 6 months

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I have spent so much time thinking about the miss holloway musical WHICH THEY HAVE ALREADY WRITTEN and I need to spill my thoughts about it

there is no point or end to this it’s just a brain fart of all the thoughts I’ve been having so enjoy I guess lmfao

“backstory”. it will be about her backstory. was she an 80’s music star who sold her mortal life for fame in a deal that backfired on her?? or was she a woman with the gift about to be hanged by the hatchet men who saved herself by making that same deal?? HOW FAR BACK DOES THIS GO IS WHAT IM ASKING WE KNOW FUCK ALL ABOUT THIS WOMAN

if it’s the former, I would love to maybe have mariah as casey (the girl with the gift in the witchwood who asked for her autograph) be an actual character who holloway maybe tries to help. also kim singing 80’s songs fuck yeah

and if it’s the latter then,,, oh wow. some heavy musical numbers, a shitload of hatchetmen / church of the starry children lore, and maybe another form of the lords in black (maybe the creepy hooded figures that we see drawn in the black book???)

also sorry EDIT I just looked at this picture again and the middle one (probably wiggly) is holding a knife. there’s no fucking way that’s not the black blade this is absolutely miss holloway guys omggggg

I would love to see this scene on stage with kim!!!! this would make 5 different forms of the LIB that we’ve seen / heard about (dolls, teens / humans, their true forms, wiggly in made in america, and whatever this is). I’m just imagining you see these black hooded figures, and then in the pro-shot you get a good look inside their hoods… and their faces are NOT human. like just imagine a massive purple eye staring out of one of those hoods, maybe even moving and blinking, a cool animatronic thing. SO CREEPY!! I also love the idea of switching up the actors again - I love jon so much as wiggly and I don’t think they would change him bc of his voice, but with the rest of them I think any actor can play a LIB which opens up so many possibilities…

I also would love to know how miss holloway met duke, and potentially even how many times they have met and then he had to forget her. considering the fact that we now have weird lore about his dad in 2005, did she know duke when he was younger?? did she help him out when he was a teenager, or help his dad?? is it a family thing, like she’s vowed to watch over the keane family or something??

duke’s dad is a big part of this tbh, because what a random insane lore / backstory drop, like WHAT? I genuinely have no idea what douglas keane sr’s murder could be about, except that it ties in to duke and to wilbur. and shows that 2005 is SO DAMN IMPORTANT

2005 was the year hannah was born, the year the portal to the black and white was created, the year wilbur cross went insane and became a disciple of the LIB, the year miss holloway took on the mantle of “miss holloway”, and (very likely) the year miss holloway and wilbur fought. so i think it’s safe to say that the musical itself will be set in 2005, which to me means macnamara and wilbur backstory alongside holloway and duke, which is very very fun

I like the idea that wilbur and macnamara were canonically together, and I really want to see pre-LIB wilbur. I also love the idea of macnamara and holloway working together or even becoming friends - despite being set a decade and a half before nightmare time, it would feel like the culmination of the two hanging plot threads / overarching arcs to me. also the idea that it was holloway who introduced macnamara to the paranormal and therefore essentially set up PEIP and doomed wiley is some juicy stuff that I would LOVE to see, especially if either macnamara or wiley lived in hatchetfield as kids and miss holloway helped them, inspiring whichever one of them to set up PEIP

ok so leading off of that I have a clear vision of a potential final scene that is driving me insane, and that’s the main reason why I patched together this post.

the final scene is the fight between miss holloway and wilbur, the one that happens in every single timeline.

and the basic idea is that we see both fights at once. there’s a song, and the stage is like black friday and spies are forever, with a level above the stage the actors can walk up to and stand on. joey and kim sing, and do their bit on the stage, but above the stage there are either doubles or a projection, mirroring the choreography. only in the pro-shot version, they would splice in joey and kim playing both pairs, which I just think would turn out looking really awesome despite being tricky to pull off live.

and yeah basically at the exact same time, one wilbur stabs holloway, and the other holloway stabs wilbur, creating a gorgeous visual representation of the newly splintered timelines.

either that or they do a trail to oregon and just do a different ending each night, and then splice them together in the pro-shot like I was saying. but I personally prefer the first one, if they’re able to pull it off and make it look good

and duke shows up just after that, having followed miss holloway throughout the story so far. and in the universe where wilbur’s dead, miss holloway makes him forget it all, hence this being the year that she takes on the new name and the fact that we know he has forgotten about her / her true past before. and then in the universe where holloway is dead, he holds her as she dies in his arms. bonus points if we get dying holloway saying “please don’t forget me” and living holloway saying “you have to forget me”. oh and just to be cruel, both dukes saying “I could never forget you” at the same time :) stew on that for a bit. yeah. fuck you I guess lol I woke up and chose violence today apparently

the idea of the two of them finding each other again after that in some timelines is just gorgeous to me, especially given the fact that NMT3 seems to suggest them finding each other AGAIN after she needs to make him forget. truly star crossed lovers they are so insane for this

in summary I guess what I’m trying to say is I think it will include miss holloway’s full backstory and then be mostly set in 2005, and centre around the opening of the black and white portal (macnamara and wilbur), miss holloway meeting duke (wilbur murdering duke’s dad, possibly something with lex and hannah if duke was already a social worker) and eventually the big fight between holloway and wilbur, ending in the audience seeing both potential endings. also obviously a reference to hannah’s birth because that seemed to be some kind of catalyst. thank you for coming to my utterly deranged ted talk goodbye

#anyway yeah that’s my two cents lmk what you think please please please!!!!#the idea of the holloway musical is keeping me up at night it’s literally all I can think about #miss holloway #duke keane #douglas keane #wilbur cross #uncle wiley #general macnamara #general john macnamara #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #hatchetfield universe #lords in black #nightmare time #nmt #starkid #team starkid #starkid productions

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tubbytarchia · 1 month

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I was speedrunning traffic/hermit merch ideas because I really wanna be a vendor this summer so uhh would you guys buy these lol

Edit: BEANS ALSO. THE SQUISHY COTTON BEANS BUT WITH LIKE. Bdubs' or Scar's face (they have the most marketable faces idk what to tell you)

Edit again: made another post about shipping (as in, parcels)

#no pressure to actually respond lmao dw about it but please do lmk if you think theyre not good ideas!!#Not very happy with half of the sketches for the “chained keychains” but whatever its just a concept for now anyway!!#wtf do I even tag this #tubby art #I guess #The Scar is my favorite I really like him #I guess its difficult to fuck up the charm of that smirk lmao #ofc Im only doing whats within the budget also!! Im not gonna do a fuck ton of merch like this. Probably. We'll see

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thetomorrowshow · 9 months

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last words

empires superpowers au masterlist (currently out of date)

dedicated to everyone who asked what lizzie said that made jimmy stop trying to kill her :)

cw: past abuse, scars, reference violence

It’s been bothering Scott for a while, honestly. Several months. And now that he and Jimmy are . . . trying things out, it feels like the perfect time to ask him.

They’re in bed together, and it’s late morning on a day that Scott doesn’t have to work. Jimmy’s still staying at Lizzie’s place for the most part, but date night had gotten a bit . . . steamy, so Jimmy had texted his sister denying the need for a ride home and promising to return the next day. She had responded with a string of scandalized emojis that had made Jimmy blush and turn off his phone.

Jimmy’s been awake longer than Scott has, scrolling through his phone and snorting occasionally at whatever it is he sees. Scott watches him for a moment, eyes tracing across his bare chest and the scars found there.

He’d told Jimmy last night that his body was beautiful, perfect, gorgeous—even his scars. His many, many scars.

Most of the time, he can forget why they’re there. Some of them make that a little more difficult.

Even with the blanket pulled up nearly to his pecs, Scott can see most of the letters. Property of Xornoth, it reads. Somehow, it’s not even the one that makes him the angriest. The one on his back, the one that reads curious little bird, is one that he can hardly stand to look at, and the most confusing one is the small, even surgical scar just behind his ear. He loves Jimmy though, and loving Jimmy means loving all of him.

Impulsively, Scott presses a kiss to Jimmy’s shoulder. His partner starts, surprise quickly giving way to a smile.

“Hey, you, don’t go starting things again,” Jimmy tells him, poking Scott in the chest with his phone. Scott gestures to it, the question that had been nagging at him for so long coming to the front of his mind. He pushes it aside once again.

“When’s Lizzie coming by?”

Jimmy grimaces. “Don’t know. She didn’t much like me ignoring her last night, so she’s decided to ignore me.”

Scott had never had siblings, so he doesn’t know if this is a normal sibling relationship or not. Well, probably not ‘normal’, exactly, what with their past and their powers. But Jimmy doesn’t seem to find her behavior out of the ordinary, so Scott has to assume that it isn’t.

Which still, of course, brings him to his question.

“Can I ask you something? No obligation.”

No obligation is a system that works for now, but certainly has its flaws. They’d set it up on literally the second day of their relationship—if one of them asks a question with that clause, the other doesn’t have to answer if they don’t want to. Of course, Scott’s done his best to impress upon Jimmy that he has no obligation to answer any question, but that’s something they’re working on.

Scott never wants to pressure Jimmy into answering a question just because he forgot to add those two words that meant Jimmy didn’t have to answer. Hopefully, in time, they can progress beyond a need for it.

“Go for it,” Jimmy responds, and Scott can see on his phone that he’s closing the social media account he’d been browsing in favor of opening up his sketchpad app. He draws a couple of smiling turtles while Scott tries to figure out how to word his question.

He ought to have it figured out by now, seeing as he’s imagined asking it countless times. Now that it’s finally time for an answer, though, all proper words seem to have fled his brain.

“So . . . the fight. The big one, at the end of—everything. When you—and Lizzie—” Scott cuts himself off as he feels Jimmy stiffen beside him, finger frozen on the screen. “Sorry, it doesn’t matter,” he amends, reaching for his own phone.

“Wha—no, it’s fine!” Jimmy sits up, sheet slipping down to his waist, revealing the painful-looking ropey scar that curves down his side. He takes one of Scott’s hands in his, smiles with what appears to be a considerable amount of effort.

It feels stupid now, though. Stupid to bring up that day, or that time in general. Still, Jimmy wants to try to answer, so Scott makes himself finish the question.

“What did—well, you were fighting Lizzie, there at the end of the overall fight, just before—um, she said something to you. Can I know what she said?”

Jimmy starts to answer, stops. He doesn’t seem . . . distressed, so to speak, other than the crease in his brow and the tense grip on the sheets he has. He frowns, lips turning in an adorable little pout that Scott is struck by the urge to kiss right off his face. He restrains himself.

“When, exactly?”

He hadn’t wanted to specify. Scott has this terrible feeling that the moment he brings up any particular points of the fight, Jimmy will be thrown into a flashback or panic attack. Still, he asked, and the words on his back make Scott hesitate in spurning any question from him.

No obligation is a system that he needs right now, too.

“Um, well—they had ordered you to—you know—so you attacked Lizzie, and you had her on the ground—” he runs a hand down his face, trying to figure out the kindest way to word it— “Well, you were about to . . . take her out, and then—I was too far away to hear, but I saw her lips move. And you stopped the attack.”

He’s monitoring Jimmy for any signs that he should stop, but so far the man is relatively calm, nodding along with the story. He’s still frowning, though.

“I was told to kill Lizzie,” Jimmy says, and Scott flinches. Jimmy doesn’t seem to notice, because he continues his train of thought. “And then when I had her on the ground, and I went to hit her again, she . . . said something? And I stopped?”

“Yeah,” Scott tells him. “Yeah, she said something, and you, like—froze, almost, then jumped off her. And that’s when—you know. The next part happened.”

Jimmy doesn’t answer. Instead, he absently draws something on his phone, eyes lost in a distant gaze. Finally, his face clears and he nods.

“Right, right,” he says, adding a dot to his drawing. His face turns rueful when he looks up to meet Scott’s eyes. “I think I remember. She, uh . . . she didn’t say anything.”

That can’t be right. Scott saw it, he saw her speak. He opens his mouth to continue arguing his point, but apparently something in his face tips Jimmy off and he pats Scott’s arm gently.

“Maybe she did say something, but I didn’t notice. I wasn’t looking at her. It hurt too much to look at her. All—all I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears. . . .” Jimmy shudders, taps his phone a couple of times.

Scott really should stop pressing. He really should apologize and do something to help Jimmy feel safe. He really should get up, fix them both something to eat, and move on.

But he’s always needed to be right. One of these days, that arrogance is going to kill him.

“What made you stop, then?”

Jimmy squints his eyes shut, takes a deep breath. Scott starts to say something—an apology or retraction, he’s not sure—but Jimmy speaks before he can.

“I was killing her,” he says, voice utterly devoid of emotion. “And I knew I would do it. And I knew they would keep telling me to kill. For the rest of my life, I would just be a weapon. Killing the people I care about.”

He opens his eyes and stares out into the middle distance, expression unreadable. Scott doesn’t move.

“You were defeated, and I was about to kill my sister, and something broke inside. And finally, I decided that—that I’d rather die trying to stop them than kill so many people. They—they were going to make me kill so many . . . I killed for them without a thought and soon there would be no more thoughts to have . . . I had—I—”

A tear slips down Jimmy’s cheek, and Scott holds out a hand. Jimmy takes it instantly, collapses onto Scott in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Scott murmurs into his neck, holding Jimmy as tightly as he dares. “I shouldn’t have pressed. I’m sorry.”

“Feelin’ floaty,” Jimmy mumbles, adjusting so that his hands curl around Scott’s shoulders.

“That’s okay. What do you need?”

Jimmy shrugs.

“Okay. Do you want to shower?”

The apprehension that ripples through Jimmy’s body is palpable, and he seems to shrink against Scott, nails digging into Scott’s shoulders. “No, n-no—”

Scott swallows, tears of his own building at the fear in Jimmy’s voice. “We won’t, then. Um—your journal is at Lizzie’s, but if you want to keep drawing on your phone—”

“Lizzie’s okay,” Jimmy mutters to himself, his grip loosening. “Lizzie’s okay and Scott’s okay and I’m okay.” He breathes deeply, clearly still upset, but beginning to recover.

There’s an almost imperceptible buzz through the air, and Scott braces himself—Jimmy gasps—the lightbulb in Scott’s bedside lamp pops out, bounces off the table and lands on the carpet with a soft thump.

“Mm, good job,” Scott praises, planting a kiss on Jimmy’s cheek. “Nothing’s broken, it’s all okay!”

For once, Jimmy seems to believe him, lifting his head to reveal a hopeful smile. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” Scott reassures him. “It was a good way to redirect your anxiety without hurting yourself. Remember that you feeling safe is a higher priority than any accident that occurs.”

Jimmy sighs, and Scott continues. “I’m sorry for pressing. I should’ve stopped when I noticed you were distressed.”

“No, I wanted to talk about it,” Jimmy says, picking up his phone from where he’d dropped it, hands still trembling. His smile turns sly. “Had to prove you wrong.”

“Oh, that’s—now I’m going to ask Lizzie about it, I know I’m right—”

Jimmy’s laugh isn’t quite right, and the tension in his jaw belies any attempts at acting calm, but he’s okay. And really, that’s all that matters.

Scott does ask Lizzie, later, when Jimmy isn’t around. She fixes him with the same blank stare that Jimmy had, confused until he goes into further detail. When she finally understands, she laughs, claps him on the back.

“Right. I don’t really remember saying anything, but maybe you saw me . . . I don’t know, moving my mouth for no reason? Spitting out blood? I was pretty out of it, Scott, but I didn’t say a word.”

#empires smp #empires smp fanfic #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #flower husbands #empires superpowers au #esh au #mas writes #this has always been true by the way #it's not something i retconned in my own fic #i intended this to be the answer to that question the whole time :)#080823 #anyway. you've been fed for the month #if you're reading this i haven't returned to tumblr yet #when will /i/ be back from the war...#anyways lmk what you think #love you guys

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