Tumgik
#blame hermitcraft and life series
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And the start of explaining world building, apologies for waiting this long to actually start writing it. A mixture of convention prep/actually going to a convention and other Minecraft media hyperfixations pushing aphmau to the back burner has made it harder to write. BUTTT, I’m back and forcing myself to write it before I push it off any longer. But here is the post I need to make before I go into depth about our rewrites Zane.
So anyways, ✨✨Premature Shadow Knights✨✨
We are doing things a bit differently for our shadow knight lore/premature shadow knights. Premature Shadow Knights are no longer what shadow knights are before they kill the important person in their life(i.e., lord, loved one). They are now primarily magically created by either witches or warlocks. Though technically there is no set in stone way that they are created or correct way, so there is a big room for error. And in our rewrite there are currently only two people who are known that can create premature shadow knights, though they are currently unnamed.
In most cases premature shadow knights(now going to be shortened to PSK) are created about a year or less before they are fully turned into full shadow knights(full shadow knights are basically undead tortured people/soliders). They are still considered alive, and arent to obviously different by both looking at them or normal interactions with them. Its not normally recommended that they stay PSK for longer than a year.
Becoming a PSK a bit before being turned into a full shadow knight, in most cases makes the process easier/take less time for the person to become a shadow knight. It helps prepare their body both partly physically and mentally. But prolonged periods of time as a PSK can have extremely negative effects to the person.
There are not many PSK that are known and with that not many shadow knights are created after becoming PSK's.
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periwinklemoonlight · 4 months
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Excerpts taken directly from the journal of Mumbo K. Jumbo, Pilot of the Voidsurfer.
Attributes AU: The Voidsurfer & co!
additional design notes & character lineup under the cut!
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grian's wings are loosely based on a golden pheasant, and pearl's are based on a cerulean warbler
each crewmate of the voidsurfer has some amount of teal and/or orange in their outfit
each character's design is meant to loosely resemble their default mc skin in some capacity :D
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leafdoodles · 2 months
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I am excited about the new Dirges in the Dark updates so take a Tango for your troubles.
@twodiamondhoes Dirges in the Dark has me in a creative chokehold still fr
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funkyplantguy · 6 months
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for your consideration: bad boys but in a futuristic, cyberpunk, colorful neon world. bad boys but void jumpers, hopping from one reality to the next, from one body to another, reckless and loud and full of life. they all have matching neon streaks in their hair and matching laughs of glee as they outrun whatever deity or government or entity is chasing them this time. nothing bad ever happens to them. nothing bad ever happens to them
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faerygardens · 2 years
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I am so obsessed with people making mcrp relationship maps because they get so complicated for no reason like what is with mcyts and their obsession with adoption, gay romance, polycules, mpreg, and divorce
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moomoorare · 2 months
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Also uh you might've noticed I haven't really made any qsmp art lately. To be honest I will do art for it again once and IF (hopefully though) the admin stuff is settled in favor of them, because they deserve a fair pay and dignity. So I am taking a break from it. From it all really, been for like a month and will continue to do so. I've been glancing over every now and again to see what's going on and ... It's been disheartening to be honest
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shepscapades · 7 months
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Hiii I LOVEEEEE your DBC AU so much!!!!! You've given me a concerning level of brainrot =w= I just have question about the new part that just came out: why is Etho going crazy? Is it bc of the trauma? Or is it smth else?
HI thank you!!! <3 It’s been mentioned here and there (I think I talked about it in the Part 1 post), but it’s probably not a bad idea to recap every now and then for any new folks. (I then proceeded to write everything out more detail than I’ve ever talked about it before!) so hopefully this makes things a little more clear! Gbjdghkvjm
Etho, who was still trying to get used to a full range of emotions on top of his first life series, had a REALLY hard time with how Last Life ended— the adrenaline and fear of Death Games’ Survival of the Fittest and being pit against all of his friends is one thing, but something about his relationship with bdubs was so much more important to him, and he essentially blames himself for bdubs’ permanent death in the series. He vividly remembers (has recorded + logged the memories of) himself telling bdubs he wouldn’t give him a life unless he killed one of the other reds— remembers bdubs saying he’ll kill to earn the life, remembers him looking so earnest and determined, vividly remembers the moment the message rang out that Bdubs had gotten his kill, and the message that Grian had killed Bdubs shortly after.
Etho never quite forgave himself for being the self-perceived reason bdubs dies (after all, he should have just given bdubs the life if he really cared and wanted him to survive), and he takes this grief back with him as they return to Hermitcraft Season 8. As someone who’s very new to feelings of guilt and failure, you can imagine how hard he took this— reviewing the memories again and again, trying to understand why he made those decisions, realizing how selfish he is, comparing his “failure to protect bdubs” to when he was first assigned to Bdubs, when he sacrificed himself to keep Bdubs safe.
As the moon situation escalated and hermitcraft got increasingly busy, Etho couldn’t find it in himself to confront bdubs (maybe not seeing himself fit to deserve bdubs’ forgiveness, or fearing Bdubs’ disappointment or anger with him) and his fears and regrets kind of slowly ate away at him until it shut him down. It’s actually a recurring theme for Etho that, because of the damage he sustained from the creeper blast that caused his deviancy, his systems are actually kind of fragile when it comes to pushing them to their extremes. When he feels an extraordinary amount of overwhelming emotion, his thirium pump starts to work in overdrive, and thirium starts leaking from all of the places his shell is cracked— his face, his shoulder, and his arm.
So the idea is that, Etho returns to Season 8 trying to… more or less forget about what happened— except he can’t, he’s obsessed with what happened, and his emotions start to overwhelm him until thirium starts to leak and whatnot. But I think deviants are fairly used to “dismissing” warnings, as sometimes their thirium pump will skip, their temperature will rise, or other system updates may happen when they feel certain emotions, and Etho is so distracted (or. Trying to be distracted) that he doesn’t realize he’s dismissing Thirium Loss notifications until it’s too late. He begins to shut down with Last Life on his mind, and the system errors that follow are all garbled out.
This technically happens before the moon destroys the server, which means etho is offline, or broken, or what have you, when the server gets destroyed, and this is actually what truly glitches him out. When Xisuma and Doc try to reboot him at the beginning of season 9, Etho’s system is caught on a glitch: Etho had shut down thinking about last life, so his programming is trying to eliminate the threat who killed bdubs as an attempt to fix what happened (bdubs dying). Etho’s trying to eliminate grian (who isn’t a threat anymore, because this isn’t last life, last life was ages ago) but he’s not thinking straight and can’t process anything beyond the Desperation+Fear+Guilt. Since Grian’s not in the room, he goes for the next best thing: the person who might be able to tell him where Grian is: the server admin. Doc just gets in the way of Etho trying to get to Xisuma, so Etho “decommissions” Doc in an attempt to remove him from the equation.
So um. Yeah! That should be everything more or less explained… hopefully it also clears up some details you may or may not notice in the comics! Etho starts leaking thirium throughout the destruction comics, Etho goes for Xisuma first… Etho having memory flashbacks of Last Life. If anything is particularly confusing feel free to ask more questions! But it’s kinda nice to be able to write out how I’ve logic’d out all of this happening in my head hehe (i plan on posting the DBHC Etho playlist soon with a brief explanation of each song in Etho’s timeline, so hopefully that will help too!) :]
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pixiemage · 5 months
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Do You Believe In Magic?
[Part of the Magebound Universe]
23,458 words Fandom: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series, Hermitcraft SMP Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Jimmy | Solidarity/TangoTek Additional Tags: Past Jimmy | Solidarity/Scott Major | Smajor1995, Mage AU, Witch and Familiar AU, Witch TangoTek, Familiar Jimmy Solidarity, Canary Jimmy | Solidarity, Blaze Hybrid TangoTek (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Injury, First Meetings, Soulmates, Witch/Familiar Bonds, Magebonds, Baby Ravagers :3, Hermitshipping Big Bang 2023
[A/N: Hey all! This has been in the works for quite a while by now. For anyone who read the mini Ethubs fic I posted most recently, this story takes place in the same universe (though later in the timeline). I've been itching to share the Ranchers' origin story with you for ages!
Much love to the HSBB server for their inspiration and friendship and support, and even MORE love to the handful of spectacular artists who created artwork for this story! Links to their creations can be found here, as well as in the endnotes.]
@fantasykiri5 [Trapped] [Jimmy] [Tango] @joifee [Feathers] @aviomons [Magic] @setacin [Campire]
{This work can also be found on Archive Of Our Own}
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The late afternoon sun filtered down through the trees, the ever-shifting leaves and branches high overhead casting scattered, evolving shadows across the forest floor below. Every so often a stray sunbeam would cross Jimmy’s face…but for how deep in the forest he was, it didn’t happen often. Below the canopy the forest was cool, what little heat from the day that still lingered in the shadows already beginning to lessen with each minute that ticked by.
Jimmy was grateful for the shade, and the breeze, and the barely-there smell of petrichor that still hung around from the rain that had come through earlier that afternoon. It left his walk in the woods with a peaceful sort of feeling hanging over it. He was beginning to think he might have picked the perfect day to attune with his avian side. It had been a while since he’d had the chance, really…not that it was entirely his fault.
(He couldn’t help but think his own actions took more than a little of the blame.)
Jimmy let out a breath, hiking his satchel higher onto his shoulder and doing his best to focus on where he was going.
The Southlands Coven had been a nice escape, after everything. It had been a chaotic whirlwind of magical malpractice and experimentation, a place to just let loose and not worry too much about where he had been before. It helped him to forget about Sc– his former bond, and about whatever he had left behind at that cottage. The Southlanders helped him remember himself, and forget himself, and remember to have fun again.
Not - not that he hadn’t had fun with - with him, and them, but there had been a tension Jimmy hadn’t been willing to endure, and a past that wasn’t his own that needed facing. Jimmy was helping no one by sticking around.
Jimmy’s jaw tensed and he huffed out a breath, pushing the thought aside. He was meant to be focussing on nature, on the natural magic in the earth, and on his familiar form. He was meant to be finding the right place to attune, like Grian and Martyn had both suggested. Not…not agonizing over broken magebonds. It was in the past.
In truth, Jimmy conceded as he clambered over a massive protruding root, he had been with the Southlanders for over a year by the time they disbanded, but even then it wasn’t that long of a span of time in the grand scheme of things. The lingering ache of a severed bond had only fully faded around the seven-month mark, so perhaps he could be forgiven for still missing the feeling of someone else’s magic humming alongside his own.
Sc– his magic had been smooth and graceful and almost cool to the touch, often carefully controlled in a way that Jimmy’s almost never was. Jimmy’s magic was an energetic thing, always moving and buzzing and sparkling at him for attention at the slightest thing. He’d had to reign it in more times than he cared to count, so finding a witch like - like him, a witch who maintained such careful discipline over the way his own magic behaved and who naturally extended that control down the bond to include Jimmy as well? It was - well, it was something. It was stifling, but comforting all the same. It was nice to not feel so scattered all the time…but it wasn’t quite freeing enough for someone like Jimmy whose familiar form was a bird.
Perhaps that was why Jimmy had known from the start that their magic wasn’t meant to be bound forever, and he would have known even without the contract for a temporary bond that he had signed when he’d been hired. The relationship they’d forged in the time they’d been bound, though? Now that was something Jimmy had hoped would last a little longer. But once Jimmy had helped him with his task, once his former magebound was back from wherever she’d been lost to, and his focus shifted to helping to nurse his true familiar back to health - well.
It became all too awkward for Jimmy to hang around when his priorities were no longer on romantic relationships.
And Jimmy understood, he did. He understood the importance of magebonds as well as anyone. He wasn’t surprised that he immediately prioritized her when she needed him most, and he wasn’t surprised that he, Jimmy, got forgotten in the process. Perhaps worse still, it didn’t seem to surprise him when Jimmy said he’d be leaving.
Perhaps it was only ever meant to be short and sweet. Perhaps one day he’d be able to remember it fondly. But at the moment, he just wanted to forget.
Jimmy paused in a small clearing, closing his eyes and using his magic to reach out with delicate tendrils, sensing the natural magic of the forest and trying to follow where it wanted to lead him. He was close. He was very, very close. He took careful steps with his eyes closed, the damp spring grass shushing softly against his shoes. A little…a little left…ah.
A warm vibration of pure, gentle energy danced at his peripherals, making his magic buzz, making his core resonate with a low, silent tune. Slowly, he let his satchel drop to the grass, and he sank down beside it. He pulled off his shoes and shrugged off his overshirt, leaving them piled on his bag and leaving him unencumbered. He listened and he felt and he breathed.
A full familiar transformation was meant to feel as natural as breathing. Once you managed it the first time it was meant to become second nature, as easy to repeat as your own name.
Lately, for Jimmy, that hadn’t been the case. He could summon up a handful of reasons why if asked. There was one he blamed more than the others. But no matter the reason behind it, it was because of this disconnect from his avian side that Grian had all but demanded for Jimmy to take the time to find a peaceful connection point and attune.
He had been absolutely appalled that Jimmy hadn’t attempted to do so sooner, and Martyn had been equally irate about it. So…off Jimmy went.
That had been a week ago.
Now, Jimmy took a slow breath and let his magic sink. He let it melt out of his core and to the very tips of his fingers, to the ends of his hair…let it sit just below the skin. He let it fill him completely, let it greet the natural magic in the air around him, and he let his avian side come to life bit by tiny bit. Tiny golden down feathers prickled at his hairline and down his neck, scattered across his cheeks, soft patterns racing down his spine. A few fanned out around his ears and he listened, the quiet breeze and distant chirping and nearby rustling of crickets and critters meeting him more clearly than before. He rolled his shoulders and bone and muscle shifted seamlessly, painlessly, beneath his shirt, the fabric seemingly unbothered as massive sunglow-dusted wings appeared at his back. He shook them out with the smallest of grimaces, momentarily distracted by some dust and misplaced feathers that were making him itch.
He’d have to have a preening session once this was over.
For now, though, Jimmy just focussed as best he could on the balance between his avian and human halves, letting them merge together to as perfect a point of equilibrium as he could manage. For a few long, quiet minutes, Jimmy just let everything hover at that balance. He let himself exist in silence as both for as long as he was patient enough to endure, and as long as the forest was willing to indulge him. This part was easier. Jimmy wasn’t the best at sitting still or meditating, never had been, but the weight of wings at his back and the tickle of down against his skin was a familiar comfort that felt more natural than his fully human form ever had. It was easy to melt into, like pouring just the right amount of water into a glass. It was a perfect fit.
Time seemed to still, to warp, seconds and minutes ticking by as the mix of magics whispered at the edge of Jimmy’s awareness, as he slowly focussed inward toward the point where his avian side resided.
…it was taking it a step further that was giving Jimmy trouble, was the thing.
He took a slow breath, letting his wings go lax and drape out across the grass behind him. His magic was still swirling just below the surface and he reached for it, drew upon it, let it soak into his skin and settle in his bones.
There was a pull, normally, when Jimmy wanted to shift fully. There was a tug in his gut and a sudden, small inward force and a feeling almost like a startled inward breath - and then he was suddenly a fraction of his size. Normally. Normally, it happened in an instant, so simple to grasp and even easier to maintain.
Right now, Jimmy was having trouble getting to that point. He could feel that tugging sensation lingering just out of reach, a tension just below his ribs, a surge of energy balancing on a precipice and barely threatening to tumble over the edge. He was close, closer to that tipping point than he’d been in over a year. And yet–
An itch cropped up at the base of his right wing, something between his feathers irritating him, making him grimace. He rolled his shoulders, trying to dissipate it without digging through the down to find what was bothering him. It didn’t do much.
Jimmy sighed and scrunched up his nose in discomfort. Yeah, he was definitely preening later, probably before bed if he had the energy. He couldn’t fathom how his wings had become so unkempt. So…neglected.
…no, that was a lie. He knew. He knew full well that he had become lax in taking care of himself after he had left the cottage. He knew that Grian and Martyn - even Impulse and Mumbo - had needed to remind him to eat sometimes during the first few weeks with them, and even after that–
No. No, he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about that. He was meant to be focusing on…on…
…crap.
The swirling haze of flowing magic had begun dissipating drastically once Jimmy’s thoughts had strayed, and at this point he knew it would be exhausting to return to the level of concentration he was at before. With a heavy sigh, Jimmy let his eyes flutter open and he flopped backward against the grass. He ground the heels of his palms against his eyes hard enough for stars to pop up in the darkness behind his eyelids and he huffed in mild annoyance.
He’d always struggled with meditation, and any magical practices that required it. His mind was just too…busy, too distractible, and something always inevitably drew his attention away from what he was meant to be focussing on. At least in this instance his distraction was well-warranted. Unpreened and itchy wings were a nightmare and impossible to ignore no matter how well-trained one’s patience was.
Maybe he ought to try again tomorrow once he’d dealt with whatever grit was causing him so much irritation.
It wouldn’t be too hard for Jimmy to find the clearing again. Even if he hadn’t had a fairly good sense of direction thanks to his avian nature, the lingering residual tendrils of magical energy his attunement had left behind were recognizable. It was his magic, after all. He’d know it anywhere. The forest would lead him here again.
The sun was beginning to dip low behind the treeline now, casting an orange tinge across the sky, and when Jimmy sat up to grab for his satchel he could see the way the shadows had already begun to stretch under the canopy of the trees. The glimmer of magic still fading from his skin illuminated the nearby grass, a low but noticeable light that further cemented the fact that it was getting late.
It wasn’t as if Jimmy had anywhere to be, but any forest this dense could become a danger when one was alone in the middle of the night, magical abilities or not. He cast a stray glance around as he shoved his feet back into his sneakers. He hadn’t exactly expected to see anyone, so finding his surroundings quiet and empty wasn’t much of a surprise…but something about it left him feeling wary. The few stray downy feathers at the nape of his neck tickled from a passing breeze, making him shiver, and a quiet anxiety began to pool in his gut.
Maybe he ought to fly back to the inn. He should have enough time to walk back from here - the nearby town wasn’t too far away, and he would probably arrive just before nightfall if he left immediately - but he wasn’t sure he felt as confident in that method of travel now as he had been when he’d left the inn that morning. Jimmy finished tugging on his overshirt - letting his wings phase through with practiced ease - and stood slowly, his satchel strap clutched tightly in one hand.
…yeah. Yeah, maybe he’d fly, just in case.
He tossed the bag’s strap across his body, rolling his shoulders and flexing his wings. He shook them out once, twice, still irked by the itchiness beneath his feathers…but he’d just have to deal with it later. His paranoia was increasing with every second, and he’d rather get out of here before–
Jimmy turned to prepare for a takeoff and went stiff as a statue, coming face to horrifying face with a massive beast. It was staring at him from across the clearing, its beady eyes fixed on him with an intelligent sort of focus that made Jimmy’s skin crawl. The creature was a giant, hulking thing, reminding him of a rather hairy bull but with a wider snout and a stockier build. It was a dark, brownish-gray and a pair of ivory-colored horns curved out from its skull…and those things looked like a quick way to a very painful death. It took Jimmy an embarrassingly long time to remember what it was called - a ravager - and an even longer time to remember that he needed to breathe. He swallowed thickly and took a slow, shaking, measured breath. Right. Right, okay. Right. He took a slow step backward, then another. The ravager was tracking his every move, audible snorting huffs leaving it as it stared him down.
Jimmy could hear his own heart pounding in his ears, could hear the ravager’s breath, could hear his own shaking attempts at regulating his breathing. The eerie silence from before suddenly made much more sense now. If a beast of this size was in the vicinity, why would any creature be making noise that would draw its attention?
It still hadn’t moved yet, Jimmy noticed. He had been creeping ever closer to the trees behind him in an attempt to escape its piercing stare, and all the while it hadn’t moved. Jimmy wanted to count it as a blessing, a small bout of luck that he wasn’t about to take for granted. Maybe if he was quiet enough, maybe if he moved slowly enough, maybe if he just stayed calm, then the ravager would have no reason to run him down. So he stayed steady and he kept his wings pulled close and his breath carefully schooled.
…and then he tripped.
Jimmy went down in a whirlwind of feathers and limbs with a loud yelp and a chirp and an oof…and apparently, it was the sign the ravager had been waiting for, because within moments of him hitting the grass, it tossed its head and stomped at the ground and let out a deep, bellowing roar.
Jimmy scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, darting off between the trees and shoving off of trunks as he dodged them. He could feel the ravager’s footfalls pounding against the earth behind him, sending vibrations through the forest floor. All the while he let his eyes dart skyward as often as he dared, trying to spot a breach in the canopy where he might be able to take to the sky. For not the first time, he was cursing his inability to perform a full shift to his avian form. If he wasn’t such an incapable mage he could have gotten high above the trees before the beast behind him even reached him - if he was quick enough. But even then, he supposed his bag would have posed a problem anyway, because he wouldn’t dare to leave behind the books and potions and crystals that he had packed into his satchel for the trip.
And besides, even if he managed to use a spell to put his bag out of harm’s way, that “if” would have been enough to keep him grounded regardless of his ability to shift forms. If he was fast enough. If he had time to transform and get out of the way before the ravager trampled him into the ground.
If he could have shifted fully in the first place.
Jimmy gritted his teeth. Arguing over what-if’s in his head was a moot point when he wasn’t even capable of the most important part of the equation. He’d just have to find an opening and fly as he was when he had the chance.
Branches whipped past, some catching on his clothes, some leaving scratches against his skin, skirted shrubs and thorny flowers lashing at his ankles and a few vines threatening to trip him up.
Vines.
On an inspired whim and with a prayer to the heavens, Jimmy skirted a tree and slammed his palm against its trunk, focussing on his fading connection to the forest to fuel his spell. As his fingers separated from the bark a flurry of vines sprang forth, curling up from the ground around the roots of the tree and tangling through the undergrowth. He didn’t look back to see if it had helped, but he did hear the ravager let out a growling cry of some kind, and the thundering at his back faded with each new stride he took.
Jimmy’s eyes darted to the sky again, searching for an opening, any opening. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon–
When it seemed as though the monster behind him really had been lost in the foliage, Jimmy let himself slow. He cast a furtive glance behind him before collapsing sideways against the trunk of a massive gnarled oak. His chest heaved and he gulped down precious, precious oxygen, his lungs aching and his limbs threatening to give out. At his back, he let his wings hang limp to brush against the forest floor…but thank goodness running didn’t tend to wear them out too quickly, or he might not have felt up to flying home after the harrowing chase he’d just barely managed to escape from.
“Oh gosh…” Jimmy choked out, his legs shaking. He dragged both hands back through his now-sweaty hair and let out a distressed trill, a chirp catching in his throat as he slid down the trunk to sit on a massive twisted root protruding from the soil. His fingers tangled tightly in the blond strands. “Ohhh my gosh…oh my gods…”
A ravager. A ravager. What was a ravager even doing in this forest? Jimmy might not be quite as much of an expert on magical beasts as Impulse was, but he was fairly certain they were more likely to appear in colder climates. They were built for the snow. The forest Jimmy had chosen for his attunement was rarely even chilly this time of year, let alone prone to snow or ice. Where in the world had–
A low rumbling growl and a sudden thundering sound broke through Jimmy’s mind a little too late, and by the time his head was snapping up - by the time he was scrambling to his feet - the ravager he thought he’d managed to evade was already upon him. It rammed him backward, thoroughly winding him, pinning him to the massive trunk of the gnarled oak he’d been using as a resting place, its head bowed to be on his level and its horns caging him in on either side. The sound of shattering glass rent the air, the distinct sound of one of the potion bottles in his satchel breaking. Jimmy didn’t even have words anymore, the panicked sounds leaving him reduced to twittering avian screeches and wheezing, shrill, desperate chirps. He shoved at the beast’s snout frantically, feebly, trying and failing to push it away. Its huffed, snarling breath was hot and overwhelming. It made it harder to breathe, harder than it already was with the way he was being crushed against the tree trunk and the way he was panicking too much to catch his breath.
The ravager was relentless too, because though its horns against the tree kept it at just enough of a distance to leave Jimmy some minute level of safety, it refused to let that keep it from its prey. (Because Jimmy was prey right now, wasn’t he? He certainly felt like it.) It jerked its head sharply, carving into the bark, closing that gap bit by bit with each jolting movement.
A spell, a spell - he couldn’t think of a spell. Jimmy’s thoughts were whirling desperately, but nothing was sticking, nothing - nothing he could–
“G-Glacius!” he stammered, choking out the first thing that came to mind, and he shivered as a swath of freezing blue ice magic was dispelled from his fingertips. But it wasn’t strong. It was a wisp of a thing, magic that didn’t come naturally to Jimmy. It did very little to dissuade the ravager. The creature did flinch back though, for a moment, and for a fraction of a fraction of a second Jimmy was tempted to make a break for it. There was a gap to his left, a possible escape - but was there even time?
Before he had a chance to decide, the ravager had let out a furious roar and charged forward again, and Jimmy flinched, and his wings jerked, and–
Jimmy let out a shrill, pained avian screech when one of the beast’s horns slammed against his left wing and pinned it to the tree, something snapping and an unbearable pain blinding him. He keened and his wing jerked frantically where it was trapped, the sharp, hot agony that radiated from the injury making the world spin on its axis. Shit. Shit. Fu–
A sharp whistle pierced the air, though Jimmy wasn’t quite aware enough to even bother trying to figure out where it had come from. It repeated, a warbling lilt to it this time, and - much to Jimmy’s utter disbelief - the ravager actually retreated. It stomped backward, still huffing and rearing its head occasionally, but it gave Jimmy just enough space to slump against the tree. He gulped down desperate breaths, his chest heaving, and a moment later his legs - shaking and exhausted - gave out below him. He crumpled, one hand scrabbling at the bark behind him for support. The wing that the ravager had injured absolutely screamed as it shifted to the ground and Jimmy let out a sharp, choked chirp, wheezing twitters coinciding with each breath he took.
Gods that hurt. It was - it felt - he curled in on himself, his uninjured wing coming up to shield him from the world, the rest of him too fuzzy to focus on much else besides the pain to his left and the slowly growing awareness of a voice somewhere to his right.
“...whoa, whoa - hey there, big guy. C’mon - gahk! NO! No, hold. Hold it, skippy. Stay still…that’s it–” There was a shifting of soft material and the jingle of metal, maybe keys or chains. A soft snort arose from the ravager, one that made Jimmy flinch. “–easy. Easy. Just…wait…a second - hah!” Another jingle, then the voice let out a victorious laugh. “HAH! Gotcha! Now - ngh - now c’mere, get away from that thing…”
More chinking - definitely chains - then a disgruntled huff from the ravager, some grumbling from the voice. The heavy footfalls of the beast retreated from where Jimmy was still hiding away in the safety of his feathers and he shivered. He clutched at the strap of the bag still slung across his chest, his focus honing in on the nearby sounds, not quite ready to look at his ruined wing. There was the drag of metal on wood, more chinking and jingling, then the voice he’d been hearing sighed.
“What’d you catch now?” he muttered, his much more human-sounding footsteps a balm on Jimmy’s nerves. “What poor critter am I gonna have to patch up, huh? …geez, it’s a big fella this time…”
The voice had come close, so close, and Jimmy flinched back when he felt a gloved hand brush at his feathers.
“Shhh, sorry,” the stranger murmured quietly. “Sorry bud. I’m not gonna hurt you. Okay? I just wanna help…”
It was at this point that Jimmy slowly lowered his wing, peering out over shivering golden feathers to try and get a look at whoever had saved him. The guy was a bit shorter than Jimmy, or at least he seemed to be at this angle, with a little less height and a bit more bulk to him than what Jimmy had. His skin was lightly tanned and his black leather hide gloves and vest and boots made Jimmy think he must spend a lot of time outdoors. The man was also clearly inhuman - even without his pointed ears or the sight of his tuft-ended tail, his red irises and sclera would have been more than enough proof of that. There was a glowing tinge to his blond hair as well that seemed to illuminate the air around him with a low, subtle, warm incandescence, the dim light of the setting sun making it more noticeable than it would have been in broad daylight.
He also looked slightly stunned, his eyes widening as Jimmy appeared from behind his wing and a gobsmacked expression overtaking his face.
“Wha- oh! Hi! Wow, okay, human. Ish. Human-ish. A person. You’re a person. Yup. Uh–” His eyes darted over Jimmy’s form, what little of it was visible at the moment, and he cleared his throat. “How - How badly did he hurt you?”
Jimmy grimaced at the question. He tried, briefly, to ease himself into a more upright position to check the damage, but with how harshly it sent a shock of sharp pain through his left wing and his chest, it was an attempt that only ended with the air being punched from his lungs and him collapsing roughly against the tree trunk again. He let out an avian hiss and a shrill chirp and a whimpered curse, and the stranger jolted forward to grab his shoulders and help hold him steady against the tree.
“Whoa, whoa!” the guy said quickly, anxiously. “Let’s - how about we put a pin in the standing-up action for a hot second. Okay? Just - crap. Uh–”
Jimmy eased his eyes open again - when had he closed them? - to squint, wincing, at the face hovering above his. There was a worried crease in the man’s brow and a twitch in one of his pointed ears, and every so often small licking flames came to life in his hair or around the tiny ember-colored sticks hovering around his head that Jimmy somehow hadn’t noticed before now.
He felt like there was a word for those, wasn’t there? A name he couldn’t quite remember right now…
“...are you with me, man?” the guy was prompting him now, worry coming to life in his expression. “What’s your name?”
Jimmy took a slow breath to ensure his chest would be willing to cooperate before attempting to answer.
“Jimmy,” he said finally, the word coming out a bit unsteadily. “Name’s Jimmy.”
The guy’s worried frown curled into a half-smile.
“Well hey there Jimmy,” he murmured. “I’m Tango. D’you know where you are?”
Jimmy managed a jerky sort of nod and he clutched at the bag strap across his chest with the hand that wasn’t digging fingers into the soil and moss beneath him.
“F…Forest–” He sucked in a sharp breath when the slightest of movements made some part of his injured wing shift, jostling something that obviously didn’t want to be jostled. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Con - ngh - Concordia Forest.”
“Good. Good.” Tango nodded. “Great. Uh–” He squeezed Jimmy’s shoulders slightly, and an inhuman warmth sank through Jimmy’s shirt layers to the skin below. It was a balm, a comfort, a small spot of cozy stability that helped him settle some of the tension in his aching shoulders. He let out a soft breath and did his best to stay still, like Tango had suggested.
“How badly did the big guy hurt you?” Tango asked again, and Jimmy grimaced.
“I…think my wing might be broken?” he offered weakly, sheepishly, and Tango’s expression took on a guilt-ridden unease, his pointed ears pinning back against his head and the glowing sticks around his head dimming.
“Crap. Crap, I’m so sorry, I didn’t - that’s my fault, it really is. Man, if I’d just–”
“What?” Jimmy blinked up at him, confused. “How’s that your fault? You saved me, didn’t you?”
“Well yeah,” Tango drawled with a wince, “but I also - like–” His tail lashed at the air behind him and he jerked his head back over his shoulder. “That’s my ravager.”
What.
Jimmy gaped at him, waiting for Tango to grin and say he was joking…but the man remained as serious as before.
“You - why?” he said, perplexed. “Why do you have a ravager? Why would you want a ravager?”
Tango shrugged lopsidedly.
“I handle magical creatures and monsters for a living,” he said. “Ravagers - I mean they aren’t that bad–”
“Not that bad,” Jimmy repeated weakly. He let out a whimpering laugh and let his head thunk back against the tree. “It slammed me against a tree, but ravagers are not that bad.”
“Well, yeah. It’s just about learning how to communicate. They can be super cuddly once you know how to handle ‘em–”
“Cuddly, he says–”
“They can be!” Tango insisted. “They’re like - ya know - big dumb cows who don’t know their own strength!”
Jimmy let out a birdlike twitter of protest.
“Well your big dumb cow just broke my wing!”
Tango flinched, going immediately silent and remorseful, his ears pinning back again and his tail going still behind him. His shoulders hunched up to his ears and his eyes drifted over to the feathered limb that wasn’t quite sitting at the right angle.
“...he did,” he agreed softly. “You’re right.” Tango eyed Jimmy’s broken wing for a moment or two longer before speaking again. “I’ve uh - I’ve never worked with bird hybrids before, but I’ve helped magical creatures with feathers ‘n’ wings. I bet I could whip up a good old-fashioned splint for you for now, if you want?”
Jimmy blinked at him. Ah…so he thought Jimmy was just a hybrid. In truth, in his current form, that was close to true. The wings, the feathered features, the avian calls. Except for his current lack of talons, he supposed he could pass for an ordinary avian to someone who didn’t know many avian hybrids themselves.
Seeing as he couldn’t exactly shift again until his wing was healed, he was as good as a hybrid for the time being for as long as it took for his injuries to mend.
“A splint might not be necessary,” he murmured thoughtfully. The hand still clutching at his bag’s strap slipped down the leather, groping at the satchel that was lumped on the ground next to him. “I brought some potions, just in case I–” His hand met wet fabric and Jimmy’s heart sank. The bottle. The glass he’d heard shatter in the midst of the ravager’s attack. The potion bottle.
He scrambled to open his pack, flipping back the flap and digging past the surface items until he found - ah. Glass. Broken glass, more than he’d anticipated, the pieces chinking against each other as Jimmy shifted the bag. It hadn’t been just one bottle that had been broken in the fight, but multiple, all but one not managing to survive the encounter. And the one that did survive - well. Unless Tango turned out to be a not-so-friendly stranger, fire resistance wasn’t going to do Jimmy much good right now.
Jimmy grimaced and let out a frustrated huff, one hand dropping from his bag to punch at the moss bed below him. Of course. Of course his bad luck had reared its ugly head once again. He’d only just made those potions too, ingredients purchased not too long ago from a market he’d stumbled upon halfway to the village…the village and the inn he was no longer sure if he’d be able to return to tonight. What little money he’d scrounged up for the trip, all going to waste.
Tango let out a soft “oh” and Jimmy looked up to see him eyeing Jimmy’s bag with a dawning saddened understanding. He must have seen the damp stain in the half-darkness, or heard the pieces of glass.
“So, uh…splint?” Tango offered again, sheepish. “It won’t be anything fancy, but it’ll be functional. It’ll do the job.”
What could Jimmy say? It wasn’t like he had another option, and Tango did seem like the type to know his way around wings better than the average stranger. So he nodded, a weak but grateful smile coming to life on his face.
“If you think you know what you’re doing,” Jimmy said. He was only somewhat anxious at the prospect. “I don’t think I’ll get very far otherwise.”
Tango immediately brightened, his smile wide and eyes aglow in the ever-dimming light. He let go of Jimmy’s shoulders and sat back on his heels, quickly digging through the bag he’d brought with him with newfound enthusiasm. The sticks around his head - blaze rods, they reminded Jimmy of blaze rods - bobbed in the air.
“You’re in good hands!” Tango assured, setting aside a roll of bandages before darting off toward a nearby tree. “Like I said, I know wings. Not all wings, of course, but - hey, I’m a smart guy. I can - ya know - apply my existing knowledge to the problem, or whatever they call it.”
He stood on his toes to reach a thin, low-hanging branch, his tail curling out for balance as he drew a short blade from a sheath at his waist. He hacked at the branch and broke it free, stumbling back a step from the force of his former handhold being cut loose.
By now, the hour of the day was causing Tango’s form to be bathed in shadow, little more than his silhouette half-lit by the moonlight reaching Jimmy’s eyes. The subtle glow around the man’s head only helped fractionally. From this distance Jimmy could see him moving quickly but cautiously around the clearing, occasionally stumbling and shooting out his hand, as if he wasn’t quite trusting of his surroundings. He’d managed to grab a few branches by now and had come to a sort of standstill on the far side of the clearing, his head cocked to the side and one ear perked up and his glowing eyes squinting through the dark.
Jimmy frowned, curious and a little concerned. Was there something lurking nearby that Jimmy couldn’t hear, even with his avian senses?
“Tango?” he spoke up, and Tango snapped his head toward him, immediately starting in his direction. Jimmy shifted anxiously, trying to sit up a little taller to see the treeline better. “Was there something out there, or - ah!”
He hissed, pain shooting up his wing, across his shoulder blade, through the muscles on the left half of his upper body. He’d forgotten. He’d forgotten, foolishly, that he really shouldn’t be moving at all lest he worsen his injuries. Jimmy crumpled shakily back against the gnarled oak that still stood as his main form of support, his eyes squeezed shut and his breath coming out sharp and gasping. It was awful. Wings were sensitive as it was, and this - he grimaced and whimpered, a pitiful wheezing chirp escaping him - this was horrible. For all the various careless injuries Jimmy had managed to sustain over the years, this had to be the worst of them.
Jimmy was only vaguely aware of movement nearby, of footsteps and the shuffling of clothing and the shift of branches and warmth. There was a warmth in the air, and Jimmy swallowed back a whine and forced his eyes open again to blink blearily at who he could only assume was Tango returning with his collection of branches.
The space was brighter than before. There was a flicker of firelight coming from somewhere nearby, and the soft shifting light illuminated Tango’s face in a warm glow. He was watching Jimmy worriedly, one hand outstretched - though he hadn’t quite closed the gap to touch Jimmy’s shoulder the way he had earlier.
“You okay?” Tango asked, his brow furrowed, and Jimmy groaned.
“No.”
Tango stifled a snorting laugh, coughed, and did a very poor job of schooling his features.
“Eh - right. Yeah. Stupid question.” He shifted from a crouch to a kneel, reaching for the deposited pile of branches he’d scavenged. He picked them up one by one and ran his gloved hands down them, quickly snapping off any stray leaves and twigs before moving on to the next. “...I know you just met me, so you probably don’t trust me yet, but - uh.” He smiled weakly. “It might be a good idea for you to hunker down at my campsite for the night. If you want. I’ve got food, and blankets, and a fire…” He shrugged lopsidedly. “It ain’t anything fancy, but it’s safer ‘n out here, I bet. I don’t have much in the way of healing supplies, but I might have a potion to help with the pain.”
Tango finished off the last of the branches and brushed his gloves off on his pants, tugging at the fingers one by one to start taking them off completely. He tossed one aside on his bag and started in on the other, meeting Jimmy’s eyes and chuckling sheepishly.
“It’s my fault you’re not gonna be flying home anytime soon. Giving you a safe place to sleep tonight is the least I can do.”
Jimmy gaped at him, a warm gratitude arising unbidden in his chest. He let out a breath, slightly shaky from the still-lingering pain from his wing, and watched as Tango began rolling up his sleeves, his red eyes occasionally flicking back to check on Jimmy.
“...are you sure?” he asked weakly, surprised that a stranger would be so willing to offer such a thing to someone he’d just met. True, Tango seemed friendlier than most, but all the same - it was a pleasant surprise to be sure. He took a slow, strained breath “You don’t know me either. I could be a…a thief, or something, for all you know.”
Tango snorted, amused, and shook his head.
“You?” He laughed softly, a warm yet hoarse sort of sound. His eyes crinkled at the corners with his grin. “Nah. I know thieves. You don’t give me that vibe.”
“You know thieves?” Jimmy repeated. “Are you a thief?”
At that, Tango’s laughter became fuller, brighter, amusement making his shoulders shake as he fussed with the bandage roll he’d pulled from his bag earlier.
“Oh heck no,” he denied. “I think I’d get caught immediately if I tried. I can handle critters no problem, but my sneakification skills could use some work.” He shrugged and his grin grew crooked. “Or that might just be the company I keep. My friends know me too well.”
Tango chuckled to himself, then after a moment his expression softened, something more genuine coming over his features. The blaze rod look-alikes hovered in the air, casting light over his smile.
“That offer still stands,” he said, his tone softer, warmer. “My campsite’s not far. It’s safer than trying to walk home in the forest in the dark.”
Jimmy couldn’t deny that Tango had a point. And really, what reason had he been given to distrust Tango thus far? If the man tried anything, Jimmy had some spells under his belt that could protect him, weak magic or not. But even as that thought crossed his mind, Jimmy doubted he’d even need them. Tango was the kind of person who was ready and willing to help injured animals no matter the situation, and had been even more willing to help Jimmy once he realized he was more than just a creature in the woods. He had a kind heart to him.
Jimmy could trust him, at least for one night.
“Okay,” he murmured, nodding jerkily. “Yeah, that - yes. Thank you.”
Tango brightened and nodded.
“Happy to help.” Then he glanced toward Jimmy’s wing, his face becoming shadowed with worry and his eyes growing tense and thoughtful. He let out a slow, measured breath and shifted closer, mindful of where he was crouching and careful of the feathers draped over the ground. “I’m gonna have to touch your wing, okay? It’s not gonna be pleasant, but I’ve gotta figure out what’s broken.”
Almost immediately, Jimmy choked on his breath and he felt his face go very warm.
…oh. Oh, right. Right. Okay. His wing. Tango had to - okay. Okay.
“Okay,” Jimmy murmured weakly, even though most of him was insisting that it very much was not. Avian familiars and avian hybrids had their differences, but many cultural practices carried over between the two. Wings were sacred for one, protected, and the idea of allowing a perfect stranger to have his hands on Jimmy’s was - well. He swallowed thickly and took a slow breath, trying not to tense up too much.
It was necessary, he knew that. This wasn’t the same as a casual uninvited touch. His wing was broken, and Tango was just trying to help fix it. That was all. It was an emergency situation, an exception to the rule. Jimmy would just have to give this one a pass. Just this once. He could forgive himself for that, surely.
Tango nodded once, smiling apologetically, and Jimmy had to clench his jaw and look away when Tango reached out toward his broken wing.
Jimmy anticipated pain. He anticipated the same sharp agony that had overtaken him the last two times he had tried to move on his own…but that wasn’t quite what happened. Gentle fingers brushed against his uppermost feathers, following the joints and bones, prodding softly at points here and there and feeling along the edge of the limb for anything that felt out of place. But it was soft. It was delicate and careful, a practiced sort of gentleness that Jimmy could only assume came from years of handling other injured creatures, years of tending to animals that couldn’t communicate enough to tell him when he was about to hurt them.
For all of Tango’s gentleness though, he couldn’t avoid the pain forever. A dull ache started up the closer Tango got to the point of injury, and Jimmy hissed when Tango’s hands brushed over a particularly painful spot just this side of the wrist joint…but the moment he did Tango was muttering murmured apologies and pulling away.
Jimmy’s wheezing chirps were muffled against the fist he pressed to his mouth. It took everything he had not to jerk away, his shoulders pressed firmly against the tree behind him in an attempt to keep himself still. There was a knot on the trunk digging into his spine that was decidedly uncomfortable, but seeing as moving had been a much worse experience, Jimmy would take the discomfort over the pain any day of the week. It was a few more quiet, strained seconds before Jimmy felt hands on his wing again, and after a moment or two of much more painful prodding - and Jimmy stifling more pained sounds - Tango sat back with a sigh.
“Fractured radius, I think,” he said, and Jimmy heard him move slightly, the sound of shuffling sticks meeting his ears. “Maybe a partial fracture on the ulna? Hard to tell, and I don’t really wanna go poking too much when I’m not really an expert on birds.”
“A-Avians,” Jimmy corrected weakly, his eyes still closed and his head resting back against the oak tree. “Different.”
“Right. Yeah, ‘course. Avians. Got it.”
Jimmy pried one weary eye open to see Tango eyeing his wing calculatingly, a single branch held aloft and one sharp finger scraping a mark into the bark. He chewed on his lip thoughtfully before making a second line, a deeper one, an inch or so along from the first. That seemed to satisfy him because he nodded to himself and dug out his knife, sawing away at the mark he’d made. Shortening it maybe? Jimmy could only assume.
“...do you need my help with anything?” he asked in a murmur, and Tango glanced in his direction with a small smile. He shrugged.
“Not really, man,” he said. “You’ll have to sit up at some point, and you might wanna get your shirt off so I can wrap stuff properly. But I can handle the rest no problem.”
Jimmy blanched at the prospect of having to move again (ignoring, for the moment, that he’d have to do so eventually anyway when he followed Tango back to his camp), but he forced a jerky nod all the same.
He could do this. Definitely.
  Or perhaps, he conceded once Tango got started, it was less of a “definitely” and more of “maybe”. Tango hadn’t even done much yet and Jimmy was already biting down hard on the strap of his satchel like Tango had suggested, sweat beading at his brow and his other wing shaking against his back since it wasn’t being held still by Tango’s hands. Sitting up had been an ordeal on his own, helped somewhat by Tango making sure his injured wing remained stable, and now - everything was just aching. He had his arms around his knees with his fingers digging into the denim of his jeans, and everything just hurt. His back muscles were pissed, his chest felt tight, and the area around the actual break–
“Breathe in for me?” Tango muttered, and Jimmy only had a moment or two to comply before something shifted beneath Tango’s hands and pain exploded like fire beneath his feathers, a strangled sob and a pained avian screech escaping past the leather clenched between his teeth.
“I’m sorry,” Tango said quickly, already rushing to collect one of the prepared branches from his lap. “I’m sorry man, I’m sorry, it sucks. I know. But that’s the worst of it.”
That, despite Jimmy being skeptical to believe it, turned out to be true. While Jimmy buried choked-off twitters and whines against his knees, Tango made quick work of bandaging his wing, his hands as careful as ever now that the bone had been set. Jimmy was only barely aware of what was being done, too focused on not focusing on the pain. By the time Tango’s voice broke through to him again his wing had been carefully folded into a natural position against his back, bandages and a few wrapped branches helping to hold it that way.
“...Jimmy? Buddy? You with me?”
Jimmy shifted his head against his arms and turned slightly to peer out at Tango, who was much closer than he had been a minute ago. He had already been close, of course, but now that he was carefully holding Jimmy’s bandaged wing in place against his back, Jimmy could feel the netherlike warmth radiating off of him from his proximity. It was comforting, cozy, especially in comparison to the ache throbbing through his back.
“Jimmy? ”
Jimmy finally registered Tango’s worried expression and he nodded, small and jerky, against his arms.
“M’ here.”
“Hey. Hey, man. D’you think you can sit up a bit? I’ve gotta wrap this around your chest to keep everything from moving.”
Oh. Right. Yeah. Okay.
It took him a moment to get his limbs to comply, but after a few slow breaths and a quiet, wheezing chirp, Jimmy did as he was told. He tugged the satchel strap out of his mouth and warily uncurled himself from his tense position. It was a good sign when he didn’t feel any burning agony in the process. He raised his arms somewhat so Tango could get beneath them, and when Tango finally sat back and eyed his handiwork, Jimmy could confidently say he felt a bit more stable than he’d been before. Despite the ever-lingering ache from his injury and the mild discomfort of a few feathers being ruffled beneath their bandages, his wing no longer screamed when he moved. It was the first time since being attacked by that ravager that he actually felt like he could get back on his feet.
Tango hovered beside him for a few long, quiet moments, eyeing him with a notable amount of concern.
“...how’s it feel?” he asked, and Jimmy cautiously rolled his shoulders. He took a few deep breaths, the bandages around his chest adding just a little bit of resistance, and he flexed his right wing just to be sure - then he nodded.
“Better,” he landed on, exhaustion in his words. “Good.”
Tension rolled off of Tango’s shoulders at that, a notable sigh of relief making his chest rise and fall. He dragged a hand over his face and used the other to grope out blindly toward his discarded bag.
“Thank the void.” He sat back on his feet and shoved his now-dwindled roll of bandages away where it belonged, swapping it for his gloves and tugging them on one after the other. “I’m not a doctor. I’ve just picked up a lot o’ stuff in my line of work. At worst, I was worried I’d make it too tight and you’d just end up hurtin’ all over again, but–” He shrugged and tossed a lopsided smile in Jimmy’s direction. “Looks like I was worried for nothing, huh?”
Jimmy, exhausted as he was, couldn’t do much more than manage a soft smile in return. But it was something. He took a moment to carefully put his satchel back over his shoulder, the strap falling neatly between his wings and managing to not irritate his injured one, much to his relief. He rolled his shoulders again, wincing slightly at the tiny spark of pain it caused…but it was minimal. It was a relief.
A gloved hand entered his line of vision and he raised his eyes, following it up to its owner. To Tango. Tango, who was grinning softly in the low firelight and already on his feet.
“Let’s get you back to camp, huh?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The journey through the trees to Tango’s campsite was a quiet one, much calmer than the chaos that had occurred back in the clearing. Tango had insisted on making sure Jimmy was okay to walk on his own before they started out into the forest - which was kind of him to do, but unnecessary really. He was a little lightheaded and the ache in his back slowed his pace slightly, but he was capable enough to manage on his own.
(All the same, Jimmy couldn’t remember the last time someone had actively and determinedly put Jimmy’s needs ahead of their own. It left his chest feeling warm and aching all at once, an odd combination that he decided not to think too much on.)
Much to Jimmy’s unspoken dismay, the trip back also involved Tango herding his ravager back along with them, nothing but the chain on its neck and Tango’s supposed strength keeping it tethered. Jimmy had, at first, been more than a little wary of the beast - rightfully so - and even now being in such close proximity to the thing left him feeling horribly on edge. But it hadn’t so much as looked in his direction more than once or twice since they’d started on their path. It seemed entirely disinterested in him, and Jimmy wasn’t sure if that was Tango’s doing or if it had simply lost interest in Jimmy of its own accord.
He wasn’t sure what had caused it to want to chase him down earlier. He was only glad Tango was there to stop it if it decided to do so again.
According to Tango, it would only be a ten minute walk back to where he’d set up camp. It wasn’t a long journey by any means, but if it had been any longer Jimmy was sure he would’ve had to take a break to rest. It was made easier as well by the conversation being traded between himself and his savior, stories Tango was telling of the troublesome ravager he’d had to save Jimmy from in the first place. This was, apparently, not the first time it had escaped from him.
“It doesn’t happen as much anymore,” he was explaining as he helped Jimmy over a fallen tree, mindful of his bandaged wing as he did so. “The guy’s not fully grown so he’s just a bit feistier than his parents. The rest of ‘em listen to me pretty well, but skippy over here is a stubborn one.” He chuckled, tossing an amused and annoyed look back over his shoulder, eyeing the ravager behind them with the same look one would give an adorable yet misbehaving puppy. “Downright menace, I tell ya - HEY! No! Watch the light!”
Jimmy turned back to see Tango bopping the ravager on its large snout, flicking its nose once and making it snort at him. Tango made some kind of twirling hand movement through the air and the light source that had been illuminating their way thus far moved, gravitating towards Tango’s palm from wherever it had been hovering, and–
Jimmy blinked owlishly, watching as Tango’s suddenly-gloveless hand was engulfed in flames. He eyed the brilliant glow curiously, the energy coming off of it making the edges of his awareness tingle slightly. That…that was magic. That was witch’s magic. Or - well, it felt close to it, traces of something foreign making it feel just slightly distinguished from what Jimmy was used to, but - all the same. His eyes drifted past the fire to Tango, who had turned to him amidst his scolding and whose expression softened into a sheepish little smile, and Jimmy found himself turning thoughtful.
Tango was a witch.
Tango was a witch, but back in the clearing, he had called Jimmy an avian hybrid instead of a familiar.
Did Tango not know what a familiar’s magic felt like, or what a familiar was? Tango was some species of hybrid that Jimmy wasn’t yet acquainted with, but the red eyes and sharp teeth and his seeming penchant for flames had already given Jimmy the impression that Tango was from the nether or something. The glowing sticks encircling his head reminded Jimmy so strongly of blaze rods that he was beginning to wonder if that’s what they were. The nether was a different dimension entirely. Did witches work differently there? Did magic work differently there? Is that why this magic felt a hair’s breadth away from what Jimmy was used to…?
Or maybe Tango hadn’t wanted to call out what Jimmy was so plainly. It wasn’t as if all witches who openly recognized a familiar for what they were did it with kind intent. (Memories of what had happened with the Watcher Coven were proof enough of that.) Maybe this was Tango trying to prove himself a friendly stranger. Maybe–
“You alright there Jimbo?”
“Have you been using flames this whole time?” The question left him without much thought, his own curiosity getting the best of him, and Tango blinked. “Even back in the clearing, just before sundown…there was light. And I didn’t even think about it.”
Tango chuckled sheepishly and glanced at the flames in his hand. He shrugged and seemed to curl in around the fire.
“Well…yeah. I just can’t, uh. I just can’t see too well in the dark,” he said, his ears pressed halfway back against his head. “Like, I really can’t, so I need light. And fire’s easy.” There was a kind of uneasy silence that passed between them, though for the life of him Jimmy couldn’t fathom why. Tango shifted awkwardly, his blaze rods dimming. “...I can control it, if that’s what you’re worried about. No burnification happening here.”
Jimmy blinked at him, processing the words, and - oh. Oh. Oh, no, he–
“No, nonono, you’re fine!” he assured quickly, his hands placating. “No, sorry, that’s not - I didn’t–” He cut himself off before he had a chance to put his foot in his mouth and he laughed weakly, flustered and sheepish. “Oh my gosh, I’m so oblivious. I didn’t notice, is all. This whole time and I didn’t even notice you’d made fire.”
Tango seemed to open up a bit, his head cocking to the side and his uneasy smile turning more genuine.
“You don’t mind?”
Jimmy snorted out a giggle.
“Do I - no, of course not!” He’d be hypocritical if he did, being a mage himself. “I spent ages with someone who had strong ice magic. Fire’s just another element, innit?”
That seemed to be what Tango was hoping to hear because the relief that swept through him was palpable, his expression glowing and his grin wide and bright. He huffed out a half chuckle and nodded, tossing the flames upward again so they could light the way once more.
“Yeah,” he agreed, falling into step beside Jimmy again, the ravager following not far behind. His voice was low and warm, a little bit soft in a way Jimmy couldn’t quite name. “Yeah. Just another element.”
Something had lightened between them. It wasn’t significant, not all too palpable, but there was a level of ease to their conversations that hadn’t been there before. Familiarity, maybe, or…something. Something else. It was nice, whatever it was. Friendly and comfortable, something Jimmy got the feeling they’d both been needing for a while.
Tango was easy to get along with. They weren’t even talking about anything important, just - talking. Just being friendly. And it was cozy. Cozy, yeah, that was a good word for it. It was cozy and it was comfortable, and easy.
Their friendly chatter carried them all the way back to Tango’s campsite, at which point Jimmy came to an abrupt halt and couldn’t help but stare.
He had known Tango worked with magical creatures. He’d known this, and he’d seen the ravager he was herding, and he’d heard Tango say something about its parents and “the rest”. But despite all that he somehow he hadn’t quite put two and two together, and he now found himself staring at an entire herd of ravagers of varying sizes, most of them - that Jimmy could see - tethered to nearby trees with chains that were near identical to the one Tango had been toting all evening. There had to be half a dozen in all, though with how they were slowly shifting about, it was hard for Jimmy to count. All he knew was he was looking at more ravagers in one place right at that moment than all the ravagers he’d seen in his life before now put together.
Tango hadn’t been wrong in saying the one that had chased Jimmy down wasn’t fully grown. Two of the herd were larger than the rest, their statures even more intimidating than Jimmy’s attacker…and Jimmy’s breath caught at the mere idea of being cornered by one of them.
Tango seemed entirely unfazed by their size. He led the wayward miscreant back toward the rest of the herd with practiced ease, muttering more scolding berations as he went. He was greeted by the largest beast the moment he was close enough, its massive snout nosing at his hair and making him laugh.
“Yeah, hi, hello! I’m back, I’m back! Knock it off, will ya…?”
Despite his protests, Tango didn’t seem to mind its proximity one bit. He finished chaining up the runaway and turned around, patting a gloved hand against the muzzle of the big guy and chuckling with each huffed breath against his hair. A small smile began to grow, unbidden, on Jimmy’s face, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders as he watched on.
Tango looked at home here. He looked so natural and at ease among his creatures, as though he understood what they were trying to say, as if he spoke their language. He wasn’t even a little bit scared, not like Jimmy would be in his shoes. Another ravager ambled up to him, this one much much smaller, its small-horned head butting up against Tango’s legs and nearly knocking him over. As it stood, Tango barely managed to stay standing, and the look on his face had Jimmy biting back a laugh.
Tango’s eyes raised to meet his. There was a sparkle to them, a joy in them and a crinkle at their corners, and Jimmy’s grin only brightened at the sight.
Then Tango was waving him over.
Oh, gosh. Okay then. He…he could trust Tango. Right? The man was perhaps a bit mad to be herding ravagers of all things by himself, but he obviously knew what he was doing. And after all the kindness he’d shown Jimmy tonight, he wouldn’t steer him wrong.
Jimmy took a few tentative steps forward, ever mindful of the large beasts that were meandering in that corner of the campsite’s clearing. He wasn’t sure if he could trust them. Tango may have known how to communicate with them, but Jimmy surely didn’t, and something he had done earlier must have told the ravager he’d met that he was worth chasing. He kept his wing tucked close to his back, his steps slow and unsure. The grip on his satchel strap tightened incrementally whenever one of them snorted or huffed a little too loudly. But then he was all of eight feet away from Tango and Tango was detangling himself from the rest of the herd.
“Here, c’mere!” Tango grabbed him by the hand and tugged him forward, not even questioning it when Jimmy ended up half-tucking himself behind the other man’s body like it was a shield. “You’ll like this little guy, I promise. He’s a bit shy so we’re gonna go slow.”
Shy…?
Jimmy frowned at Tango, confused, but then he looked to where Tango was leading him. There, in the shadows of one of the larger trees at the edge of the clearing, was perhaps the smallest of the herd. He was tucked close to one of the bigger ravagers and watching Tango and Jimmy warily, taking a step back the moment they grew too close. It was then that Tango came to a stop, his tail dancing lazily behind him and a soft smile on his face.
“Here,” Tango murmured, tugging on Jimmy’s hand again. He maneuvered him around until his hand was outstretched, palm toward the tiny creature…and then he let go. He took a step back so he was just behind Jimmy’s right wing, so Jimmy was the one in front, and - oh. Oh no. Oh, Jimmy didn’t like this. He didn’t like this one bit–
“Relax,” Tango murmured, his voice low and close to Jimmy’s ear. “He’s more scared of you than you are of him. Just breathe, okay? C’mon man, you’ve got this. It’s just a baby.”
Just a baby. Just a baby, right. Okay. Yeah. He could - yeah.
Jimmy swallowed past the anxious lump in his throat and took a slow breath, just like Tango had told him. He stayed still, his hand shaking slightly, and he waited. And waited. Was…was he meant to be doing anything else? Was he meant to get closer, or say something, or…?
After what felt like ages, Jimmy began to turn his head to ask Tango one of those very questions, and it was then that the little ravager finally moved. He shuffled forward, snuffing at the air with his head raised curiously, his green eyes watching Jimmy oh-so-carefully. His stubby feet padded unsteadily against the trampled grass as he went. Then - when he was close enough for Jimmy to feel his puffed breaths against his hand - it seemed to gain a bit more confidence. It jolted forward and Jimmy flinched back, unable to move far with Tango behind him, and he closed his eyes on impulse alone–
Something warm and soft met his palm. Very soft, softer than Jimmy had been anticipating. A quiet snickering laugh sounded near his ear.
“Open your eyes, buddy.”
Jimmy did as Tango asked and squinted one eye open, his face and shoulders tense all the while, and - oh. The ravager was nuzzling up against his hand, sniffing at the underside of his wrist curiously. His tail flicked back and forth behind him, and it was only now that the little guy was closer that Jimmy noticed the differing shade of gray in the younger ravager’s coat compared to the older ones. It was just a little lighter with white flecked through it and darker patches across his shoulders and back. And it was soft. Jimmy let out a breath of wonder and his expression softened, his eyes going slightly wide as he gently ran his hand up the ravager’s snout. The little thing leaned into it, snorting quietly and taking another step closer, seemingly chasing after what affection Jimmy was willing to give.
Something about him was familiar, and it didn’t take long for Jimmy to figure out why. He reminded Jimmy startling of a baby cow, of one of the calves he had taken care of at the cottage. Despite the stockier build and the broader shoulders and deeper vocal patterns, the mannerisms and the ways they communicated were so, so similar. It was like comparing a wild wolf to a domesticated dog. They were different, certainly, but at the end of the day they were part of the same family. Perhaps ravagers were just an offshoot of a different species that lived centuries ago, one that the modern cows and bulls also descended from. Maybe.
Wide, green, cowlike eyes blinked up at Jimmy, drooping little gray ears flicking a little bit alongside, and as Jimmy let his hand shift to gently stroke the side of the calf’s neck, he all but melted in the face of such a sweet creature. Forget what he’d said about ravagers earlier. This one was adorable, and he clearly wasn’t going to hurt anyone. He was just a little friend.
The young ravager let out a honking sort of mewl, one that had Tango chuckling over Jimmy’s shoulder. In truth, Jimmy had been so wrapped up in the small creature before him he’d forgotten Tango was still there.
“You’re not hungry,” Tango told the calf, his tone almost teasing. “I watched you eat. Quit begging, you little stinker.”
“Are you sure?” Jimmy asked, fighting back a smile as the ravager nosed at Jimmy’s satchel. He tugged it gently out of the way so no leaking potions could touch the little guy’s snout. “He’s very insistent, Tango.”
“No. Nuh-uh.” Tango reached around Jimmy to scritch around the nubs of the calf’s tiny horns, shaking his head just barely out of the corner of Jimmy’s eye. “I like giving ‘em treats, but I’ve only got so much to last the trip. He’ll do just fine until breakfast tomorrow.”
Jimmy finally dragged his attention away from the ravager to eye Tango curiously.
“Why’re you herding these guys anyway? You never said.”
“Well,” Tango stepped out from behind Jimmy to better give attention to the calf, rubbing the bridge of its snout with his knuckles and smiling lopsidedly when it let out another honking whine for food, “I think I said I work with magical creatures for a living. Beasts, critters, monsters, wayward pets - all of it. I prefer working with the big guys, but–” He shrugged and his smile was turned toward Jimmy instead. “–I like wee beasties just as much.”
The little ravager pressed its head more insistently against Tango’s stomach and Tango sighed dramatically, seemingly caving and digging through the bag still slung across his shoulder.
“Okay, okay!” he drawled, pulling a leather pouch free and holding it high above his head where the calf couldn’t reach it. “Hold your horses!”
It was another few moments of Tango juggling the pouch in one hand and holding back a wiggling baby ravager with the other, and it was only when Jimmy stepped in to distract the little guy with scratches around his horn nubs - just like he’d seen Tango do - that Tango finally had a chance to pour some of the pouch’s contents out onto his gloved palm. Jimmy barely caught a glance of something small and bright red before Tango offered it to the ravager, and the little snack vanished quickly amid small snuffs and tiny muted grunts. Berries, if he had to guess.
“Hungry little goofball,” Tango muttered, shaking his head in warm amusement. He let the ravager finish off his treat and wiped his hand on his pants, scratching the top of the little guy’s head one more time for good measure. “Anyway…like I said, I work with creatures.”
Jimmy perked up, tuning back into the story and watching as Tango stowed the little snack pouch away. He plucked deftly at the fingertips of his goves, tugging them both off and tucking them away alongside the pouch.
“I got a job - oh, ‘bout two weeks back?” Tango shrugged and fastened the closure on his bag. “Some guy a little further to the west had some complaints about some big buggers that were uprooting his field and eating his fresh sprouts.” He nodded toward the herd with a small grin. “These guys.”
The little ravager slowly returned to where he’d been hiding, tucking up close to the larger ravager from before and nuzzling in close. Tango watched him for a moment before turning away. His path carried him back to the other end of camp where Jimmy could now make out the rest of Tango’s setup. A small stone-edged firepit had been dug into the earth with a kettle hanging over it, and just beyond that was a small cave entrance Jimmy hadn’t noticed before. The whole campsite had been tucked up against a cliff face, probably safer from the elements than it would have been to set up camp in another more open clearing, and though it was too dark to see inside, Jimmy had a sneaking suspicion the cave probably extended far enough into the rock to allow someone to bunk there for the night if need be.
All the while, the glowing flames Tango had been using to illuminate the night followed them overhead, and it was only now as they approached the fire pit that he summoned them downward to his bare palm again. The blaze rods burned brighter around his head as if to make up for the shift in lighting.
“So anyway, I show up at his place,” Tango went on, crouching on the balls of his feet to fuss with the pit’s kindling, drawing fresh wood over from a pile not far off, “and he’s this grumpy old jerk. He’s spewing all these complaints about ‘miserable creatures’ and ‘they’re a menace I tell you!’ and I’m just nodding along, all friendly-like, like “Yes sir, of course sir”. And I tell him I’ll take a look - oh, sorry Jimmy, uh. There’s a blanket over there if you wanna sit on something other than the ground.”
Jimmy’s eyes followed Tango’s gesturing hand to a small wooden cart, one tucked away in the trees, and he murmured a friendly thanks as he went to fetch the blanket Tango had mentioned. He carefully shouldered off his bag as he went, the broken glass inside tinkling beneath the leather and making him wince. He’d have to clean that out later.
He set it aside to look for the blanket, and Tango’s story continued on in the background.
“So I tell him I’ll take a look, right? And I go out there - and it’s this tiny herd of ravagers. Two big ones, two adolescents, and a handful of calves. I’m talkin’ just born calves, absolutely tiny things.”
“Like the one I just met?” Jimmy asked, understanding, and Tango nodded vigorously.
“Exactly! That little guy’s only a few weeks old.” He shifted one last log, made a twisting motion with his hand, and the campfire came to life with warmth and light. He grinned, victorious, and clapped his hands a few times to get rid of bits of bark and debris. Then he squinted over at Jimmy through the semi-darkness “Uh - yeah, that one. Plop it down and we can take a breather.”
Jimmy, who had been holding a thick blue blanket aloft in question, let out a little sigh of relief and did as he was asked. He started to unfold it across the ground near the fire and Tango reached over to help lay it out. Jimmy smiled at him in gratitude.
“So basically, there were a bunch of ravagers on some guy’s property, and he just asked you to take them off his hands?”
Tango’s expression darkened. For a moment, Jimmy wondered if he’d said something wrong.
“No.” Tango let out a short, wheezing huff, his hair suddenly crackling with sparks, and Jimmy eyed the tiny flickering flames with concern. “Nah. The guy - he wasn’t friendly, like I said.” Tango tugged at one corner of the blanket forcefully, smoothing it out with a little more sharpness than was necessary. “I told him what was back there, and he wanted me to–” Tango’s jaw clenched and his eyes flashed, smoke leaking into the air from somewhere Jimmy couldn’t place. From somewhere on Tango. “He said to deal with them, and he didn’t mean it in the casual sense.”
Jimmy, who had been carefully settling down onto the blanket in an attempt to avoid jostling his bound wing, took longer than he should have to register what Tango meant.
“Wh - wait, like–”
“He wanted them gone,” Tango muttered sharply, irately, his tail lashing at the air behind him as he dropped onto the blanket himself. “Didn’t matter that some of ‘em were just babies.”
Jimmy’s expression fell, his eyes trailing to the far corner of the clearing where the smallest of the ravagers was still hiding in the shadows, shy and sweet and wanting nothing but affection and food.
“I told him there were bitties over there too, but he just–” Tango scoffed, raking back his hair with both hands, a snarl curling his lips. Then he yanked off his bag, dropping it in his lap and sorting through it jerkily, harshly. The remaining branches he hadn’t used were tossed toward the collection of firewood and the pouch of berries was dropped by Tango’s side. The blaze rods around his head spun rapidly with his irritation, aglow with internal flames. “They only wanted food! They were hungry, and they had their calves out of season, so they didn’t migrate north with the rest of the herd–”
Then Tango yanked a tangle of rope from his bag a little too harshly, elbowing Jimmy in the process, and Jimmy sucked down a sharp breath with a shocked chirp at the jolt of pain it sent sparking through his wing. Tango’s attention instantly snapped to him and his anger dissipated in a heartbeat, wide red eyes and a startled expression coming to life on his face.
“Shit, sorry!” he stammered out quickly, scrambling to his knees and creating a small distance between them. “I’m sorry man, that–” He glanced toward Jimmy’s bound wing, eyeing the way Jimmy was clutching at his shoulder with a wince. Jimmy’s attempt at a strained smile went unseen. “I’ll grab that potion for you. Hold tight.”
Then he was scampering off, ducking into the cave’s entrance and vanishing into the shadows. Jimmy stared after him as the momentary pain faded back to a dull throbbing ache.
Tango was, perhaps, one of the strangest people Jimmy had ever met. Not the strangest by far - Pearl could be much stranger in comparison - but he certainly wouldn’t be someone Jimmy would be forgetting anytime soon. He had this aura of unending, boundless energy to him, and an air of easy joy and excitement. Despite the crisis of a situation that had brought them together today, Jimmy was sure he’d seen Tango smiling more than frowning since they’d met. There was also his fiery nature - physically and metaphorically - that still had Jimmy wondering what, exactly, he was and where he came from…but only for his own curiosity rather than for judgment’s sake. It was unique, it was definitely unique in Jimmy’s experience, and Jimmy wasn’t sure he could picture Tango any other way than with his ruby eyes and fiery hair and animated tail and flames.
He was also warmth, Jimmy noted. Warmth and kindness and compassion. Zealous compassion, from what Jimmy had seen, but also gentleness when needed. Tango carefully splinting Jimmy’s wing with as much care as he could muster. Tango easing Jimmy into meeting a young ravager, going slow so neither Jimmy nor the ravager would get spooked in the process. He was kind. He was a good person, one who grew irate at the thought of creatures being killed for no reason, and one who offered Jimmy his hospitality for the night to ensure he’d get home safely the next day.
Jimmy smiled softly to himself, his unbound wing going lax and comfortable against his back. It was rare to find kind strangers, but Tango was proving to be the exception. A kind stranger and pleasant company to boot. For all that Jimmy often thought himself unlucky, he seemed to have run into a wondrous stroke of good luck, despite the injury he’d sustained in the process. It was a welcome change.
The feathers around Jimmy’s ears perked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. He turned to see Tango finally returning, his arms ladened with a few more things than Jimmy had been expecting to see. He frowned curiously, his head cocking to the side and his feathers flaring.
“Did you not find the potion?”
Tango ducked below a low branch and settled onto the blanket beside Jimmy again, the firelight illuminating one side of his sheepishly smiling face. He let his haul tumble to the ground beside him, retaining his hold on a stoppered glass bottle as he did so.
“Nah, I found it,” he said. “Like I said, I don’t have a healing potion, but this’ll help with the pain.”
He handed it over and Jimmy took it with grateful hands, letting out a breath and carefully tugging out the stopper. The lingering smell of nether wart and sweet fruit met his nose and he sighed, the semi-familiarity a balm on his senses. He sipped at it slowly, the fizzy coolness of it tickling at his throat. He felt his magic rush up to meet it, the cool soothe shifting to a cozy sort of warmth as it settled in his very being, his aching shoulder and back the first to be alleviated. By the time the effects reached his wing, Jimmy felt like putty, a pleasant buzz just beneath his skin that was far more welcome than the ache and sharp jolting pains that he’d been doing his best to ignore before.
“Better?”
Tango sounded amused, and when Jimmy blinked sluggishly up at him, he caught sight of a cheeky sort of grin on the other man’s face. He nodded and smiled, more than a little grateful.
“Immensely. Thank you.” He restoppered the bottle and held it out for Tango to take, but Tango just pushed it back in Jimmy’s direction.
“Dude, keep it,” he insisted. “I don’t know how long of a trip you’ve got to get back home, but you’ll need it even if it’s short. Trust me.”
Jimmy had half a mind to insist right back, but - well. Tango looked quite determined, and he was already turning back to his pile of acquisitions before Jimmy could even attempt to get a word in edge-wise. So Jimmy let it lie.
“What is all that?” he asked instead, setting the potion bottle aside for later and trying to see past Tango to the items he’d brought back with him.
Tango flashed a grin over his shoulder before turning to face him, presenting a foil-made bowl of sorts with a mix of ingredients inside it.
“Food!” He announced proudly. “It’s not much, just some chicken and veggies and red pepper action. Couple spices. I normally like my food super spiced, but I kinda figured you’d want something a bit more on the normal scale.”
Jimmy eyed the mix hungrily, eagerly, already nodding along to whatever Tango was describing.
“Please,” he agreed. “Thank you. Oh my gosh, I didn’t even think to bring anything with me, you’re a lifesaver.”
He hadn’t eaten a thing since leaving the inn that morning. He wasn’t planning on eating lunch because it sometimes threw him off when he was trying to attune or meditate, but he’d also assumed he’d be back in town before sundown. Whatever meal he would have eaten was sitting back in his room in the ice box.
Tango shrugged and waved him off with a lopsided grin.
“Naaah, it’s just campout food. It’s nothin’ special. I put a bunch of stuff in a stasis chest for the trip. Potatoes and chicken and stuff is easy.” He shifted forward and crouched on the balls of his feet beside the fire, wrapping the food up into a tinfoil ball and plunging his entire fist into the flames.
Jimmy almost yelped to warn him away from burning himself before remembering that Tango was, in fact, a being of fire himself. As it stood, the strangled twittering sound that escaped him was just as humiliating and Jimmy ended up flushing under Tango’s shit-eating grin all the same.
It reminded him of Grian, but with far less malice.
“What, worried over little ol’ me?” Tango teased cheekily.
Jimmy took the mature route and stuck his tongue out at him. Tango only laughed.
In the comfortable quiet that followed, broken only by the crackling of the fire, the distant sound of ravagers, and the sizzle of cooking food, Jimmy scooted closer to the front edge of the blanket to bask in the warmth of the flames. He uncurled his unbound wing and stretched it leisurely, letting the fire warm his feathers for a moment or two. His eyes drifted over toward the shifting herd tethered across the clearing.
“...do you normally handle big creatures like this by yourself?” he asked, curious, and Tango turned his head slightly to give Jimmy a momentary glance.
“Nowadays, yeah,” he said, returning his focus to the food. “I didn’t used to. I had a team I used to work with - bunch of friends, really. Four of us. Me, Skizz, Etho, and Bdubs. We were the best.” He snorted, chuckling lightly at a joke of some kind that Jimmy must’ve not been privy to.
“Not anymore?” Jimmy asked. Tango merely shrugged, his grin still lingering, though Jimmy could see the way it grew more melancholy at the edges.
“Nah,” said Tango. “The team kinda busted up. Little over a year ago, there was this…” He turned the foil over in the flames, pondering for a moment. “...well, I guess I’d call it an incident. Explosion? Something like that. Nobody was seriously hurt, but the whole damn building went sky-high.”
Jimmy gaped at him
“Holy moly - are you serious?!”
“Dead serious.” Tango smirked. “You ever heard of a wither?”
At the mention of its name, Jimmy paled, his eyes widening slightly. A wither? They were demonic wraiths, powerful ones. They usually only ever appeared in the overworld if summoned by hand, and they were extremely difficult to take down once summoned. They breathed death and left unease and lifelessness in their wake.
“Yeah,” he murmured, and Tango grinned sharply.
“Well, Etho and Bdubs managed to summon one by accident. Took all of us to take the damn thing out, and Bdubs got hit with some major witherfication in the process. The guy was bedridden for a whole day afterward.”
Jimmy stared. By…by accident? How–
“Etho and Bdubs ended up going their separate ways after that, and my buddy Skizz heard news that another friend of ours was headin’ home for a month before taking a gig with a coven of some kind, so he went off to spend some time with the guy.” Tango pulled the foil from the fire with a sniff, shrugging one shoulder as he peeled back the outermost layer to take a look inside. “Which left me without backup. I liked the job too much to just stop, so I kept on going without ‘em.”
“By accident?” Jimmy blurted out, still staring at Tango, gobsmacked. Tango, who was rewrapping the foil to shove it back into the fire, flicked one ear in his direction.
“Hm?”
“The wither,” he said. “They summoned it by accident.”
“Uh - oh! Yeah,” Tango snorted and chuckled. “Yeah, they did.”
“How??”
“Oh, you know…” Tango made a swirling motion in the air with one hand, his tail dancing lazily behind him. “...Etho’s a pretty strong witch, and Bdubs was his familiar. Perfect fit, they always said, and - I mean from what I could tell they were insanely powerful together. Their spells were friggin’ nuts. They ended up breaking their bond or whatever after the wither shindig happened, for safety they said, and - I dunno.” He shrugged, picking at the foil again to check the cooking food. “I asked Etho after Bdubs had already left, and he just said they were too compatible. It’s why he went looking for another familiar.” He sat back on his heels and reached for a wayward tin plate with his free hand, toting it close and dropping the half-wrapped and now sizzling, steaming food onto it. “He said something about a…I don’t know, magical overload? Too much fuel for the fire? Hels if I know, I don’t know a lick about magic. That was more Impy’s area of expertise…”
For what seemed like the umpteenth time since meeting Tango that night, Jimmy found himself staring gobsmacked at the semi-stranger in front of him. He didn’t know much about magic…? What in the world was Tango even–
“But you’re a witch,” he said bluntly, and Tango paused, shooting him an incredulous, amused look. He let out a confused giggle, his brow furrowing with his smile.
“What?” He tilted his head. “What, you mean the flameification? The fire? That’s just netherborn stuff. I’m a blaze hybrid, it’s what we do.”
“No - no, that–” Jimmy shook his head. He was only half paying attention as Tango separated half of the meat and vegetables onto a second plate and pressed it into Jimmy’s hands. The tin plate only survived gravity thanks to some sort of muscle memory on Jimmy’s part to automatically grab what he’d been handed. “I felt the magic in your flames. That’s witch magic. It’s a bit different, but it’s definitely a witch’s magic.”
Tango plopped onto the blanket beside Jimmy with a disbelieving laugh, plate in hand and smile as incredulous as before.
“Uh - no, it’s nether magic,” he corrected, though he sounded a bit less sure of himself. “My best friend is a witch. He would’ve known if - wait you felt my magic?” he cut himself off abruptly, eyes locking sharply on Jimmy. He gave the avian a once-over, his eyebrows flying high. “Are you a witch?”
Jimmy spluttered.
“I - no! I’m not a–” He set his untouched plate aside, spinning to face Tango more fully on the blanket. No wonder Tango had thought he was an avian hybrid before. “I’m a familiar. A canary.” He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder toward his wings, which Tango was now taking in with a dawning spark of understanding in his eyes. “I’ve been bound to a witch before, I know what a witch’s magic feels like. And you’ve got it.”
Tango was quiet in the aftermath of that statement, his own food just as untouched as Jimmy’s and a still, puzzled expression on his face. His tail had curled close around him at some point during Jimmy’s insistent declaration and one of his ears flicked every so often in the following silence, his hair and blaze rods sparking slightly in the fire-lit darkness of the night.
Then Tango’s gaze dropped, one hand coming up to summon a few tiny, swirling flames above his palm.
“...you…this?” He held the flames out toward Jimmy. “This feels like witch stuff?”
He sounded quiet, curious. Unsure.
Jimmy took an even breath and reached forward, his hand hovering above Tango’s and basking in the tiny warmth. He closed his eyes, his magical core reaching out in a similar manner to how it had when he’d attempted to attune early that afternoon. This time, rather than emanating from his entire being, it centered around his extended hand, dancing around his fingers and swirling out into the air around his palm. Just as before, Tango’s fire - his magic - was easy to sense, the warmth of it and the familiar traces of witchcraft resonating in Jimmy’s peripherals. Now that he was actively seeking it out, though, he was able to read it so much clearer than before. It was a bit chaotic, constantly moving and dancing around Jimmy’s magic, curious and uncontrolled and almost new. It wasn’t quite a fledgling core - Tango was too old for that - but it was undeveloped. Untried, untrained. It was warm and welcoming too, reaching out and drawing Jimmy in with an open sort of innocent curiosity that was usually trained out of most mages at a young age.
But Tango hadn’t been trained, Jimmy realized.
Tango hadn’t even known he was a witch to begin with.
Tango didn’t have a clue what he was doing, hadn’t even realized the untapped potential singing just below his chest until…until Jimmy. And maybe he wouldn’t have known for a long while after, if Jimmy had never come along.
Tango sucked down a sharp, gasped breath and Jimmy pulled back, his eyes flying open and his magic reigning itself in quickly.
“What - what?” he stammered out, his unbound wing puffing up in concern. “What’d I do?”
Tango’s other hand was pressed to his chest and his eyes were wide, awestruck, his hair aglow seemingly from within. He blinked a few times before meeting Jimmy’s eyes.
“I…felt that,” he whispered. “Whatever that was. I felt - what the heck was that?”
Jimmy frowned, concerned.
“I just…reached out?” he offered with a one-shouldered shrug. “Your magic reached back a bit, but that’s all. I didn’t do much. Why, did it hurt?”
“No, it–” Tango rubbed his knuckles over his sternum, looking thoughtful. Then he chuckled, a watery, nervous smile tugging at his lips. “It was just weird. And warm. And, uh - I dunno. Sparkly.”
“Sparkly?” Jimmy repeated. His worry melted away and he smiled softly. Magic. Tango was sensing magic, maybe for the first time. “Did it feel familiar, or completely new?”
“A bit familiar, yeah,” Tango nodded slowly. “Kinda like…” He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “This sounds nuts, but it kinda felt like–” He eyed his palm, where the flames he had summoned had long since gone out. “–well, you know when you meet someone on the street, and you know you know them, but you can’t remember why? Or they just - look different than the last time you saw them, so you can’t figure out where you know ‘em from until like an hour later? It’s like that.”
“Like someone you used to know?” Jimmy offered, his head tilting to the side and his ear feathers flaring. Tango nodded more vigorously.
“Yeah, that! Exactly.” A brilliant grin had come to life on his face, giddy almost, and he poked his own chest. “Like - right here, I could feel that. And–” He broke off, recognition dawning, and he stared wide-eyed at Jimmy. “Oh my god, I’m a witch.”
Jimmy grinned brightly.
“You are!” he agreed, his unbound wing fluttering in his excitement. “That’s what I was saying!”
Tango laughed, a bit giddy and hysterical at first, then it grew brighter. Bright and loud and full-bodied, his amusement and excitement and joy palpable in the rasping laughter resonating in the clearing.
“Oh my gods, Impy’s never gonna believe this!” he crowed, seemingly overjoyed. “The guy’s been the only witch in our friend group for years, and now here I am - some sorta incognito witch-in-hiding. Like a sleeper agent.” He bounced a bit where he sat, grinning brilliantly at Jimmy. “I feel like I should be asking you what my code word was, man. This is - this is unreal.”
Jimmy warmed at the sight of Tango’s excitement, his energy infectious and his grin ever-present. The space beneath his ribs felt so full of joy for this zany stranger that he was sure he’d pop. Tango had never known. His whole life, and he’d never known, and now that he knew - it was like watching a kid on Christmas the way he seemed to be lighting up from the inside. This whole piece of himself that he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing out on, and now it was like they’d suddenly been reunited. Jimmy couldn’t even imagine.
“Wait - you know magic,” Tango said suddenly, and Jimmy straightened.
“I - yeah?”
“Can you teach me?”
Oh - oh, gosh.
“I - well…” Jimmy’s smile turned a bit strained and his ear feathers flattened against his head, his wing drooping against the blanket. “...I’m not very good.”
“I doubt that,” Tango scoffed. “I bet you know loads of stuff.”
And he did, to a point, Tango wasn’t wrong. But knowing magic and being skilled in magic were two vastly different things. Jimmy opened his mouth, closed it, and chewed on his lip, trying to explain that he really wasn’t the person Tango should be turning to for magical training.
Tango, fortunately, managed to come up with a solid distraction before Jimmy even needed to say a word.
“Oh - food. We didn’t even eat yet, I completely forgot–”
Tango was reaching across to grab Jimmy’s meal before he even noticed Tango had gotten close, a tin plate balanced in each hand. For a moment, Jimmy wasn’t sure what Tango was doing - and then a low heat began to resonate off of the plates and the food they held. Oh - fire, of course. Warmth. Tango’s specialty. After a few long moments Tango set both plates down between them, grinning proudly.
“Magic,” he declared, waggling his eyebrows, and Jimmy couldn’t really stifle the small laugh it drew from him as a result. “C’mon, let’s eat before it gets cold again. I wanna learn some more about this witch stuff before I get too tired to focus.”
Ah. Or perhaps Jimmy wasn’t quite as off the hook as he’d hoped.
Tango had been kind enough (and willing enough) to fill the quiet between bites of their meal. He had plenty of stories to tell about past jobs he’d taken, it seemed - though Jimmy hadn’t a clue what a sniffer was or why it was so rare. He just reveled in how excited Tango seemed to be to have encountered one in the first place.
But at some point, when Jimmy was following Tango down to a nearby stream to rinse their dishes, the conversation turned to Jimmy instead. It wasn’t that Jimmy had been avoiding talking about himself necessarily, but - well. With how sore certain events in his recent past still were, it wasn’t as if Jimmy had been chomping at the bit to tell his own dramatic tale.
“I never asked - what’re you even doing out here in the forest?” Tango had asked. “It’s a bit deep in to just be going for a stroll.”
And Jimmy - well, Jimmy simply didn’t have the heart to lie to him after Tango had shared so much of his own story tonight.
“Er…attuning,” he murmured, leaning his shoulder against a tree as he watched Tango’s crouched form at the river’s edge. “I’ve had a bit of trouble with my familiar transformations lately, so my brothers said I ought to find a place to attune.” At the puzzled look Tango shot over his shoulder - ah, right, Tango wouldn’t know the terminology - Jimmy elaborated. “Attuning’s like - magical meditation? Sort of? It…well, for familiars, you’re basically trying to find harmony between your human side and your familiar side. To make it easier to shift back and forth, to be able to tap into certain abilities - that sort of thing. So, for me, it’s me and my inner canary.”
“Ahhh.” Tango nodded in understanding. He tapped the second tin plate lightly against his knee to dislodge some of the loose water still lingering on it. “So - what, you and your inner birdy aren’t getting along?”
Jimmy snorted.
“No, not–” He huffed out a half laugh. “Not like that. It’s more like things just aren’t syncing up, is all.” And I’m not strong enough, a small, traitorous voice in the back of his head murmured, one he shoved away forcefully with a barely restrained grimace.
“Did it help?”
“Hm?”
Tango, who had stood and approached him by now, made a vague gesture in the direction of Jimmy’s wings.
“The whole - attunification thing,” he wiggled his fingers as if to mimic magic of some kind. “Did it help?”
Jimmy winced.
“Not yet,” he admitted. “I’m not great at meditation anyway, and my wings were too itchy. I kept getting distracted.”
“Oof. That sucks.”
Jimmy shrugged, trailing after Tango back to camp, the now-familiar flames hovering along overhead. With the way a cool air had settled over the forest, Jimmy was grateful for the small warmth they provided. He shoved his fists into his pockets and drew his unbound wing close, curling it around himself to stave off the chill. Then he sighed.
“If I can get my hands on another healing potion, then I can just try again tomorrow.”
The campsite came into view and Tango made a temporary beeline toward the cave, dropping the dishes and cutlery at the entrance without bothering to go inside. He was back by the campfire soon enough, dragging another log over to keep it going. Jimmy huddled close to the fire at the blanket’s edge once more, soaking in whatever warmth he could before he’d inevitably ask if Tango had another blanket to spare.
He could wait. He’d rather be polite than needy.
“You mentioned brothers?” Tango asked, shifting a log with his bare hands, a sight that Jimmy was still getting used to. “So you’ve got family waiting for you when you’re done here, huh?”
“Brothers, yes. Waiting, no.” Jimmy drew his knees to his chest and folded his arms on top of them, his chin resting on his sleeves. “Sort of. They - I mean. Grian’s my older brother by blood. He’s an avian familiar like me, just a different breed. And we grew up with Martyn living right next door. A witch. The whole little community was magical in some way or another. Witches, familiars, magical hybrids, people with other abilities - that was home. I didn’t know there were people who grew up without magic until I was into my early teens at least.”
Tango had gone quiet, and when Jimmy flicked his eyes in the other man’s direction, he was listening to Jimmy with his full attention. There was a small smile on his face and his tail was flicking back and forth along the ground behind him.
“That sounds really nice,” he said, and Jimmy ducked his head with a sheepish smile of his own.
“Yeah…it was,” he agreed. For a while, anyway. But that wasn’t a story he brought up easily. He took a breath. “Anyway, I’ve been with this coven for about a year now. Grian, Martyn, another witch, and a friend of Grian’s who’s - well he’s not a witch. But he’s into science and studying magic.”
Tango let out a huffed little laugh.
“Heh, yeah…I know one o’ them. Got a friend like that.”
Jimmy’s cheek pressed into his shirt sleeve with his grin.
“Is he friendly, curious, a bit mad? Possibly a danger to himself?”
“Yup!” Tango snickered, shifting away from the fire to sprawl back on the blanket. He propped himself up on his side, grinning at Jimmy all the while. “Got it in one. Your science guy wouldn’t happen to be named Zedaph, would he?”
“Nah, not even close,” Jimmy returned. Tango sighed in mock disappointment. “I imagine they’d be fast friends if they met though.”
“Oh, for sure!” Tango flashed him a cheeky grin. “So what about this coven of yours?”
“Right! Right, yeah.” Jimmy shrugged. “My story sounds a bit like yours, actually. The keep we lived in met a bit of an explosive end. A healing crystal experiment gone very very wrong.”
“Oh nooo,” Tango groaned, looking apologetic. “That sucks man. Was everyone okay?”
“Yeah, ‘course!” Jimmy nodded against his arms. “Mostly alright. But - well I hadn’t exactly told Grian I’d been having trouble transforming, an’ then I got stuck under rubble and couldn’t get out because I couldn’t shrink down to get between the gaps in the stone, and…well.” He gestured to himself, then to the canopy overhead. “He and Martyn sent me off into the forest to fix the problem.”
“Oof, harsh.”
“More like necessary.”
“Maybe.” Tango’s smile stretched to a grin and he reached over to poke Jimmy’s shoulder. “Well hey, you met me, didn’t you?” he said brightly. “That’s gotta be an upside!”
Jimmy smirked.
“Yeah. Except the part where you broke my wing.”
Tango squawked, spluttering, his blaze rods swirling.
“Wh- hey! The ravager broke your wing!” he protested, affronted. “I’m the guy who tried to help fix it!”
Jimmy giggled against his arm, enjoying the faces Tango was making across the blanket. He was probably more animated than most people Jimmy had met. It suited him.
“You did,” he agreed. “I can’t remember if I ever said thank you for that. So…you know. Thank you.”
Tango’s indignant pout made way for another one of his bright smiles in an instant as he waved Jimmy’s words away.
“It’s nothing, really,” he shrugged it off. “I’m just glad I could help.”
Jimmy traced patterns against the blanket for a few quiet seconds, watching the way the fire reflected in the red of Tango’s eyes. He turned thoughtful. Whether it was his ravager or not, Tango really had helped him immensely in the long run. He could have left Jimmy there to fend for himself, but instead, he’d scrounged supplies together for a splint. He’d invited Jimmy back to his campsite for safety and given him a meal and treated him as a friend. He didn’t have to do all that, but he had…and he had expected nothing for it in return.
Maybe…maybe Jimmy ought to return the favor, even if it was in a small way. Maybe he could work past his hangups to give Tango the only thing he’d requested all night. He uncurled himself and turned to face Tango cross-legged, extending a hand to him.
“Would you like to learn a spell?”
Tango perked up immediately, his smile bright and eager as he scrambled to sit up the same way Jimmy was.
“Yeah,” he breathed, excitement in his eyes. “Oh my gosh, yes. Please.”
Jimmy didn’t bother trying to hide the pleased smile Tango’s reaction caused.
“Alright, well - we can start with something small and useful. Okay? A tiny healing spell.” Tango nodded readily. “Right. Okay. So - here, hold your hands out in front of you, palm up - sort of. Relax your fingers…” Jimmy reached out to trace along the back of Tango’s hands, guiding him so his fingers were curling ever-so-slightly upward, as if holding an invisible weight. “...yeah, like that. Exactly.” He shook out his own hands and rested them face-down on top of Tango’s, his middle fingertips pressed gently to the pulse point on each of Tango’s wrists.
Jimmy took a slow, shuddering breath. Gods. The last time he’d even done this with someone one-on-one was back with - Scott. With Scott. They usually did group spellcasting in the Southlands. And even when they didn’t, Grian was always willing to step in when Impulse or Martyn needed to cast a solo spell, so Jimmy hadn’t assisted a witch individually like this in almost a year. Not since the cottage. His jaw tensed and he clenched his teeth, forcing himself to focus.
This wasn’t Scott. It was Tango, and Tango was a new witch who needed his guidance…for as much guidance as a less powerful familiar like him could even offer, anyhow.
“What do I do now?” Tango asked in a hoarse stage whisper, and Jimmy nearly choked on a startled laugh.
“Sorry. Right, um–” Jimmy took a quick breath. “Okay. Most magic is just…intent. Feelings, sort of. Some more complex stuff requires sigils and runes and long incantations and certain - er - extra ingredients, I guess? Stuff that can help you channel certain kinds of magic. But minor healing like this doesn’t need anything extra. It’s like levitation an’ kinetic stuff, it’s more instinctual. So, um.”
He chewed his lip, trying to figure out how to explain. He’d never needed to put what spellcasting felt like into words before. Jimmy had grown up around mages that already knew what that felt like, or had been told by their parents. And then by the time he’d left Evo behind, he was old enough that most mages he met were just as trained as he was, if not moreso. This was entirely new territory for him.
But for Tango, he’d try his best.
“You said you felt your magic before, yeah?” he asked instead, his ear feathers flaring curiously, and Tango gave a stuttering sort of nod. “That warm spot right in the middle of your chest - that’s your magical core. That’s where your power comes from.” Tango nodded more decisively. “‘Kay. Do you think you can find it again?”
“Mmmmaybeee?” Tango hazarded slowly, squinting in thought. “I mean, if you do that glowy-mojo-thing you did before, I can probably figure it out again…?”
Okay. Good first step.
“We can try that,” Jimmy agreed. “But let’s start with our goal. Do you have - I dunno, a bruise? Papercut? Something like that?”
Tango shrugged.
“Not that I know of.” Then he shot Jimmy a cheeky grin. “What, I’m not advanced enough to try an’ fix up your wing, bird boy?”
Jimmy’s unbound wing twitched agitatedly at his back and he rolled his eyes.
“Absolutely not,” he said, the sharpness in his denial coming through as humorous. “Trust me, not even I would attempt that without a magebond.”
Tango snickered to himself.
“Eh, worth a shot.” Then he gave Jimmy a quick once-over, his grin softening to a hopeful smile. “Maybe something smaller? Did you get scuffed up anywhere else? I can fix that instead.”
Jimmy blinked, slightly surprised. He - he hadn’t even thought of using the spell on himself. He just wanted Tango to learn something that would keep him safer on his journey. Tango’s offer was-
It was sweet.
“I - guess?” he managed on a breath. “My, um. My hands got scrapped up on bark, when I was tackled. That would be easy enough.”
“Yeah, that!” Tango grinned. “Let’s do that.”
Oh, gosh - okay. Yeah, alright.
“Good. Great.” Jimmy cleared his throat and straightened his back. “Okay. I can start the spell, if you like, and I’ll let you try and follow along. And if you don’t get it the first time I can stop and we can try again. Alright?”
Tango nodded, schooling his expression.
“Totally. I got this.”
Jimmy just smiled. He closed his eyes, focussing inward and drawing on his magic, just as he normally did for any other spell. Curious, antsy, a little distractible but ultimately comfortable - it felt the same as ever. In a repeat of the last time they’d been sitting like this, Jimmy reached out with his magic, the energy of it buzzing just below his skin. He pushed it gently outward, seeking, reaching - and he wasn’t even a little surprised this time when he felt Tango’s magic dancing forward to meet him in the middle.
Across from him, Tango’s breath caught, and then he chuckled giddily.
“I feel that,” he breathed, his words all smiles, and Jimmy grinned to himself.
“Yeah?” He kept his energy steady, wanting to let Tango find his way on his own. “D’you think you can make your magic listen to you?”
“Listen - what, listen to me? What are you, Yoda? Use the force or whatever?”
Jimmy snorted, prying open one eye to see Tango’s face screwed up in close-eyed concentration.
“Basically.” He let his eye fall shut. “Your fire comes from the same place. Right? So - maybe think about what that feels like. Yeah? Try an’ reach for that. Just - without the fire, please.”
“No burnification. Got it.”
Jimmy bit back another laugh, his shoulders silently shaking. Gods, he’d never had to fight back giggles like this when casting a spell. This was ridiculous.
It was fun.
Something in the mingling mixture of their magic jolted, and Jimmy heard Tango let out a victorious little laugh.
“Hah! That! That was good, right?? I did - well I think I did something!”
“Yeah, you did!” Jimmy agreed. “D’you think you can maintain it? Like - hold that connection?”
“I think so, yeah–”
And he could. He could, and Jimmy could sense it, the way some of the eager chaos in Tango’s untamed magic lessened to a degree, became more focused. More sure. It wasn’t perfect by any means, and Tango definitely had a long way to go, but it was a start. Jimmy hadn’t expected him to pick it up so quickly, in truth. He had expected it to take longer to ease into the basics. But he seemed to be doing better than Jimmy had hoped…a natural talent, perhaps.
So Jimmy began to guide him, waiting to see how well Tango would follow. He wove his own magic in concentrated spirals around their joined hands, and Tango did his best to keep up. Small jolts and stutters interrupted his movements, uncertainty making his magic lose form a few times, but he was still following all the same. It was something. It was a start.
A numb, tingling chill danced across Jimmy’s palms where the scrapes and scratches sat, tickling at his skin and making him shiver. But it felt right, how a healing spell was meant to feel. It was slow, to be sure, but it was right.
“You’re doing amazing, Tango,” he grinned, peeking one eye open again to see the way Tango’s face reddened under the praise. His hair was aglow again the way it had been earlier, illuminated from within by something other than flames.
“I’m trying,” he muttered. He seemed too focused for many other words.
“Just a little more, then we can stop.”
Just a little more.
Just a little–
Tango’s magic leapt, excitable and unpracticed, and Jimmy heard him let out a frustrated snarl. He was quick to let his own energy flow forward to help, soothing sparking edges and coaxing him back on track. At this point, the cool healing tingle in his palms had crept up his wrists, up his arms, and it was only now that Jimmy was paying attention that he noticed just how far the spell had migrated. Either Tango was stronger than he knew, or he was pushing himself too hard.
“D’you think you can ease up a bit?” Jimmy asked, and Tango’s hands twitched against Jimmy’s.
“I - maybe?”
“Do you want me to help?”
“...yeah. Yeah, please. Sorry man, I’m not–”
“No worries! You’re new. ‘S okay.”
He did as he’d offered, taking a breath and doing his best to reign in the runaway magic. He’d done things like this before, to an extent, when cursed objects or magical artifacts went a bit haywire. It was a bit different when trying to do the same for a living mage.
Tango’s magic was wiley, unpredictable - but it wasn’t malicious. Where Jimmy reached out with his own magic to try and control the situation, Tango’s would rush up to meet him, curious and eager and excitable, just like its caster. It would move with him, trail after him, almost looking for attention the way Jimmy’s magic sometimes did when he hadn’t used it in a while. It was actually becoming a little difficult to differentiate between what was his own magic and what was Tango’s, the energies mixing and melding and blending and–
A burst of magical energy rushed through Jimmy quicker than he could contain it, sending him reeling, knocking the wind from him. It coursed through his veins and sparked behind his eyes and sent tingles to the ends of his limbs and a warmth through his chest, his back, his wings, aches soothing before he could remember they were there, soothing the bruise at the edge of his core that had been bothering him since–
What?
No.
No, this was - this couldn’t - they hadn’t even–
STOP.
Jimmy gasped sharply and yanked his hands away from Tango’s, scrambling back across the blanket and gulping down air like a man starved, his chest heaving and his pulse racing and his wings -
…his wings…healed. Healed. Tango had - unless he was crazy, unless…unless he wasn’t…
“Jimmy-?”
Jimmy tugged weakly at the bandages still wound around his chest, too tight, too tight now that he was struggling to breathe. And there was a burning feeling, burning but not painful, right in the center of his chest, like fire, like hearth, like familiarity, like home, like–
Hands were on him in an instant and the burn subsided as quickly as it had come, suddenly calmed like the eye of a storm.
“What’d I do?” a panicked voice was asking, pleading, almost desperate, right above him. “Shit, shit, I didn’t - Jimmy? Jimmy, are you okay?”
Jimmy dragged himself to some sense of awareness, trying to orient himself, becoming a little more aware of the glowing form above him. Tango’s panicking face swam into view and Jimmy latched onto that, trying to keep himself focussed on the red of his eyes, on the glow of his freckles, on - on something, on details, on–
“T-Tight,” he choked out, wheezing, tugging at the bandages again. “Help–”
“You want - Jimmy, wait, no, your wing, remember? You can’t–”
Jimmy let out a frustrated, wheezed chirp, digging his fingers into the material, tugging despite his current lack of coordination. Tango grabbed at his wrist to catch him before he could do much else.
“Woah, okay, okay! Hold on…”
Tango scrambled for something at his waist - the knife, Jimmy realized - and he took rapid care in digging the blade into the wrapped cotton, slicing through it without catching Jimmy’s clothes. The second he was free, Jimmy’s chest heaved, air rushing into his lungs more easily than before. His “broken” wing - still bound to itself, though no longer to his chest - wasn’t even the slightest bit bothered by the sudden movement, and he was beginning to suspect more and more that he and Tango had managed to do something extraordinary without even trying to.
More than one extraordinary thing, perhaps, though he wasn’t quite ready to focus on that yet.
For now, Jimmy curled forward and rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes hard enough to see stars beneath his eyelids, and he breathed, and he forced his magic to settle. It proved to be a more difficult feat than he wished it was, magical energy still buzzing away just below the surface of his skin, refusing to quiet and refusing to calm. He was also acutely aware of the warm hand gripping his shoulder, the comfort of it grounding and distracting all at once.
“...better?” Tango asked, sounding nervous, and Jimmy nodded against his hands.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah. ‘Course.”
There was quiet, awkward quiet, for a beat or two. There was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before, and Jimmy almost wanted to blame himself for it. He should have picked a different spell.
Tango cleared his throat and pulled away, leaving space between them that Jimmy could feel, and the moment Tango’s hand left his shoulder something inside him seized. That burn in his chest was back, all-encompassing, unignorable, distracting and alien and familiar and–
Jimmy reached out before he could stop himself, grabbing Tango’s wrist without needing to see it and letting out a shaking sigh of relief when his core settled again upon contact.
Shit.
Shit.
Void below, they were screwed.
“What was that?” Tango asked shakily, and Jimmy was finally able to focus on him properly.
Tango looked properly spooked, his face pale and his brows furrowed in confusion and his ears pinned back and his eyes wide. His other hand was clutching at his chest, and Jimmy couldn’t blame him, not if he’d felt the same thing Jimmy had, not when Tango was so new to all of this.
Jimmy swallowed past the lump in his throat, past the building panic that was welling in his lungs.
“That,” he said on a hoarse breath, “would be a fresh magebond.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
If Jimmy had a choice, he’d be pacing right now. He wanted to keep moving, to work out the antsy anxiety in his veins, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t, because every time he let go of Tango, that feeling in his chest would come back tenfold and he couldn’t think straight. So instead, he was sitting in front of the fire again with his knees drawn to his chest and Tango behind him, one hand resting on Tango’s outstretched leg while warm, nimble fingers slowly unwrapped the bandages from Jimmy’s wing.
It had healed after all, it seemed. A task Jimmy had deemed “difficult” and “impossible”...and they’d managed to do it anyway.
And even more impossibly, they’d formed a magebond on top of it all.
“I’m sorry,” Tango had tried to say, as if any of the blame was his, but Jimmy had been quick to banish the thought.
“It’s not your fault,” he’d insisted. “You’re a novice. Even a trained witch couldn’t’ve done this by mistake.”
Tango hadn’t looked fully convinced, but Jimmy’s sincerity and quiet confidence in Tango’s blamelessness seemed to help diminish his fears well enough.
(Though Jimmy had half a mind to believe Tango’s gentle care in unwrapping his wing was meant to act as the apology Jimmy had refused to accept. Apology or not, he was grateful for Tango’s help.)
“It just doesn’t make sense,” Jimmy was saying now, trying to explain to Tango what had happened but finding himself somewhat unable. “Magebonds don’t form this way. There’s a ritual. It takes effort to find the right balance between two people’s magic for a more permanent connection to form, not - not just–”
“Silly magic fun times in the woods?”
Jimmy choked on a laugh, his wings fluffing up and his face flushing, and Tango snickered behind him.
“Yeah. Yes. Sure. That.” He took a breath, burying his face against his knees. “This isn’t how it’s meant to work. I’ve had bonds before. I took odd jobs for witches when I was younger, and those…”
They hadn’t been like this. They were purely for work, with a low level of magical compatibility and very little emotional investment. Forming those bonds hadn’t left much of an aftereffect, and when they broke at the end of their respective contracts, Jimmy had only ever needed a day or two for his core to get used to being untethered again. And then he’d taken the job with Scott, and - well. Scott was different.
“Who’s Scott?”
Jimmy jolted, his wing jerking in Tango’s hands, and he shot a wide-eyed look back over his shoulder at the startled-looking netherborn.
“What?”
“You said ‘Scott was different’,” Tango told him. “Who’s Scott?”
Oh. Had he? Gods. He had. He could feel it on his tongue. Jimmy dragged his eyes back around to stare unseeingly into the fire, chewing on his lip. He hadn’t so much as said Scott’s name more than a handful of times since leaving the cottage, not after that first month back with Grian and Martyn, anyhow. Saying it now felt hollow, slightly aching, just a little bit sore and a little bit familiar. He licked his lips, knowing Tango was awaiting an answer.
“Scott was, er…” He cleared his throat. “He was my last magebound witch. We - um. We were together. For a while.”
“Bad history?” Tango guessed, and when Jimmy managed a jerky nod, Tango hissed in sympathy. “Ouch. Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.”
Jimmy let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. For all that Tango had been kind to him tonight, he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to broach that subject just yet. Especially not with a stranger.
A stranger who you’re now bound to, he reminded himself, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from reacting.
“Thanks,” he managed instead, “I’d rather not.”
“Totally.”
Jimmy rolled his shoulders and let his unencumbered wing stretch leisurely toward the fire, watching the way the light reflected off his not-quite-pristine feathers. Preening didn’t feel like quite as big of an issue now as it had that afternoon.
“...the bond felt different, is all,” he ended up carrying on in a murmur. “With…him. The ones I took on for jobs didn’t feel like much of anything, but with him we were, ah - a good match. Magically,” he quickly specified. “Compatible energy. So after our bond formed, we had a hard time staying separated for too long.”
“Like this?” Tango asked, curious. “Like what we’ve got goin’ on?”
“Yes.” A beat. “No. Sort of. It’s not–” Jimmy huffed.
He felt Tango pull the last of his bandages away so he stretched out his wings, letting the cramped muscles on the left one get a nice break before tucking them close again and turning on the spot to face Tango. They were closer than Jimmy had realized, the red freckles across Tango’s cheeks suddenly very noticeable with their proximity. Jimmy went a bit pink and inched backwards, doing his best to keep a point of casual contact all the while. Eventually, Tango reached out and grabbed his hand, holding on tight now that his own hands were no longer occupied by feathers and bandage wraps.
“Erm.” Jimmy cleared his throat. “Well. It’s stronger.”
“Stronger?” Tango asked, seemingly unbothered by how close they’d been for however briefly it lasted.
“Yes.” Jimmy tucked his legs under him, cross-legged, as he carried on. “It was only a bit of a pull, last time. Like I really wanted to be close, and my magic wanted to be close, but I could handle being away from him. This time, it’s–” Jimmy felt his face warm, his feathers puffing behind his shoulders and his hand tightening in Tango’s. “When we separate, it’s horribly distracting. Like the only thing that can help is getting my magical energy as close to yours as possible.”
Tango blinked at him.
“Is that not, uh…normal?”
“Not for me.” Jimmy dropped his eyes to their joined hands, his brow furrowed and his thoughts whirling. “We bonded by accident. It was too easy. We didn’t need a ritual, or an incantation, or a - a channeling artifact, or anything. And it’s so strong that I can’t let go of you without getting lightheaded. I’ve never–” He let out a twittering sigh. “I’ve only ever heard of this kind of thing in fairy tales. It’s ridiculous.”
“Fairy tales, huh?” Tango prodded, and when Jimmy dragged his worried eyes upward, Tango was grinning that cheeky grin of his. “So - what, does that make me your Prince Charming?” He waggled his eyebrows and Jimmy spluttered out a laugh, ducking away from Tango’s smile and shaking his head.
“Oh my gosh - Tango!” he stifled a giggle with his hand. “No, I meant - old mage fairy tales. Stories about that perfect match. The one person in the world whose magic was a twin to yours. You know, soulmates.”
Tango’s eyes went wide and wonder-filled, curiosity making his grin brighten and his ears perk up.
“Wait, soulmates?” he repeated. “Is that a real thing?”
“Well I don’t know!” Jimmy let out another little hysterical laugh. “They’re stories, aren’t they?” His giggling subsided but his smile still lingered, his eyes dropping to their joined hands again. Soulmates. He shook his head, trailing his thumb over the back of Tango’s hand absentmindedly. “...I used to hope soulmates were real,” he said after a moment. “A part of me still wants to. It sounds so nice, being able to find someone who can be your perfect magical balance. It’s hard to find a good bond match, let alone a great one.”
And yet, here’s you.
Jimmy felt eyes on him. When he looked up, Tango was watching him with a soft expression on his face, something undefined in his eyes that blinked away the moment Jimmy caught him watching. Tango sniffed and squeezed Jimmy’s hand, his tail flicking across the ground behind him.
“What do we do about this?” he asked, shaking their joined hands lightly. “Do you want to undo it?”
Something in Jimmy’s heart screamed NO! at the simple question, though he couldn’t quite fathom why. He barely knew Tango as it was. Outwardly he merely shook his head.
“We can’t yet,” he said softly. “It’s too fresh, and too strong. If we tried to break it so soon we’d both end up hurt.”
“Ah.” Tango winced. He cast a glance back over his shoulder, then raised their hands up to eye level. “Well how long d’you think we need to stick together like this?”
Oh, gods. And this was the part Jimmy hadn’t yet allowed himself to focus on. He smiled weakly.
“Constant contact? Overnight, I’d bet.” He scratched at his jaw awkwardly. “Sorry. Er - if it helps, it shouldn’t be as bad tomorrow?”
Tango let their hands fall with a cheerful sort of shrug, not a hint of irritation in sight.
“It’s all good,” he grinned. “I don’t exactly have anywhere I need to be tomorrow, do you?”
And - well. No. Jimmy really, really didn’t. He shook his head slowly.
“I’ve got a room at the inn back in town for the next week,” he said. “Not that I’m going back tonight at this point, mind you, but I’d planned to be out here a while.”
“Well that’s settled then!”
Tango clambered to his feet, still holding tight to Jimmy’s hand, and Jimmy let out a startled chirp as he was hauled bodily off the ground. Tango was stronger than he looked, a fact that was still settling in his thoughts as Tango tugged him intently toward the cave entrance.
“Uhhhh - what’s settled?” Jimmy asked, tucking his wings in close so they wouldn’t catch on a passing tree.
“You can stick around here for as long as you want to!” Tango declared, a grin in his words that Jimmy didn’t need to see to hear. “I’ve got plenty of blankets an’ food, and I can grab some more supplies from town in a few days–” He paused and shot Jimmy a sheepish smile. “If that’s okay with you, of course.”
Something beneath Jimmy’s ribcage fluttered at the offer, something warm and pleased and content.
“More than okay,” he nodded quickly. “That sounds amazing. You’re too nice, Tango, honestly–”
“Nah,” Tango waved him off, ducking just inside the cave and smirking toward the darkness. “It’s a fair trade-off for some pleasant company. Uh - here, hang on–”
There was a brush of something soft and warm against Jimmy’s wrist and he blinked, realizing belatedly what Tango was doing. The blazeborn’s tail had come up to coil comfortably around Jimmy’s wrist as a means to free his hands, the blond tuft of fluff at the end tickling against Jimmy’s skin. He huffed out a soft, amused chuckle, shaking his head at Tango’s silly ingenuity. Flickering flames illuminated the darkened space - flames fueled by Tango’s magic, which left Jimmy shivering at the familiar sensation of a spell through the bond - and when Tango turned around, a lantern in his hand, the light it cast caused Jimmy to stop short.
The cave was more expansive than Jimmy had first assumed. It wasn’t unending by any means, but the space inside was roomier than the small entrance would have implied. A cozy-looking cot piled high with blankets was pushed up against one wall, a large travel pack was dropped against another, and a small and slightly messy heap of clothing had been shoved toward the back of the cave. It was warm too, a lovely change from the chill of the evening air outside, and Jimmy’s wings relaxed against his back as the warmth seeped into his feathers.
“Welcome to Casa de la Tek!” Tango announced with exaggerated grandeur, grinning all the while. “It ain’t much but it’s home, for now. I was gonna move on in a few days now that the ravager kiddos are a bit stronger, but - hey, I don’t mind stickin’ around a little longer.”
“It’s cozy,” Jimmy said brightly. “How’d you find this place?”
“I’ve been around these woods before,” Tango said. He waved it off, beckoning Jimmy closer was a tug of his tail so he could fuss with the blankets on the cot. His blaze rods hovered nearby as though attempting to offer him some additional light to see by. “My old crew used to get jobs in the area all the time. I still do. There’s a larger cave about - oh, half a day’s walk to the north?” He gestured vaguely in that direction. “That’s my next stop, since it takes longer to get there when I’m herding the big fellas.”
“And what if there’s no caves nearby?”
Tango flashed Jimmy a grin.
“Well then I get to camp out under the stars.” He straightened, planting his hands on his hips. “Okay! I think I’ve got us sorted. Do you get cold easily?”
“Uh–” Jimmy blinked at the quick segue, then shook his head. “Not really. If I don’t have my wings out I can get chilly, but I like keeping them out. I’ll be alright with whatever blankets you don’t need.”
“With whatever - what?” Tango snorted. “No, I was gonna–” He jerked his thumb back at the cot with a sheepish grin. “I don’t mind cuddling if you don’t. We’ve gotta stay in contact anyway, right?”
Jimmy, who had mentally been planning on tying their wrists together between the cot and the floor for the night, gaped at the man who - until that afternoon - had been nothing but a stranger to him. Since that point, Tango had not only become more of a friend than Jimmy had anticipated, but had also been kind enough to be gentle when Jimmy had trusted him with his wing, provided a meal and safety without any prompting, and had forged a (surprisingly strong) magebond with him as well. All in one day.
And now he was offering to share his bed.
For all that Jimmy was a bit flustered at the prospect of sharing a bed with a perfect stranger, he also couldn’t deny that the offer was tempting. It would be warmer and more comfortable than the floor by far. And Tango had been a perfect gentleman the entire night. Hadn’t he?
He also wasn’t wrong. They did have to stay in constant contact, and Tango’s idea was an easy solution. Jimmy took a slow breath and made his decision.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his face feeling warm. “It’s your bed.”
“Uh-huh,” Tango smirked. “And I’m okay with sharing.”
Okay. Well. Alright then.
“I - yeah. Yes. I’m okay with that.”
“Awesome!”
As Tango had said, that settled that.
  It wasn’t nearly as awkward as Jimmy had suspected it would be either. There was a little jostling and maneuvering while they tried to accommodate Jimmy’s wings, but once they found a comfortable position, it all just sort of…clicked, and settled into place. Tango was sprawled on his back as close to the cave wall as he could get, his boots and vest abandoned on the floor, and Jimmy had done the same with his shoes and overshirt before getting comfortable on his side. One of his wings was trailing loosely off the bed, brushing the cool stone below, and the other had found its place draped over the both of them.
(Being a netherborn, apparently, meant Tango got cold easily, so he was grateful for the added warmth. No wonder there were so many blankets on the cot.)
At first, Jimmy had tried to keep as much of himself to his side of the bed as he could manage…but that hadn’t lasted long. It felt so natural to be curled close to Tango - a fact that he couldn’t be sure was related to the fresh bond or not - and soon enough their legs had become overlapped beneath the covers and Jimmy had a hand lingering over Tango’s heart.
Over his pulse, where Jimmy could feel it synchronizing with his own.
Magebonds this strong weren’t a thing to be taken lightly. He couldn’t help wondering if he’d have the strength to break it down the line.
(He couldn’t help wondering if he’d even want to anymore by then.)
“Hey, Jimmy?”
Tango’s whisper in the dark caught Jimmy’s ears and the feathers there flared. His eyes eased open to see Tango’s face turned toward his. They were so very close.
“Yeah?”
Tango grinned, a sleepy sort of thing.
“I’m kinda glad my ravager found you,” he said, quiet and teasing yet wholly genuine. “This magic stuff’s kinda nuts, but I’m glad you’re here anyway. It’s been a bit lonely the last few months. You’re–” Tango yawned, his eyes crinkling and warm barely-there sparks fizzling across his hair. The glow from the blaze rods hovering dimly above them rose and fell with a wave of gentle warmth. “...you’re…good people. Thanks for stickin’ around.”
Technically, Jimmy thought sleepily, he didn’t have much choice in the matter…but he knew what Tango meant. For some reason he had a feeling he would’ve lingered even if the bond hadn’t been forged. A sleepy warbling coo slipped past his lips and he sighed.
“I think I’m glad your ravager found me too.”
Tango’s grin widened, dopey and bright, and Jimmy let his eyes drift shut.
Like a fairy tale, his sleepy mind supplied. Soulmates, huh? Maybe he should ask Grian about that when he got home…whenever that ended up being.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As barely-awake awareness drew him to the land of the living, Tango crinkled his nose at having been woken up at all. He had never been a morning person, in truth. And for some reason he was even more disgruntled this morning in particular. The cot was colder than it had been during the night, and something in his chest was tugging at him to go - to go - do something. Go be…somewhere. Find something.
Tango grumbled and rolled over, burying his face in his pillows and letting his tail droop off the side of the bed.
He didn’t wanna do anything most mornings, so having some unnamed urge to do just that was…odd. It was strange. It was this curling, fuzzy little feeling in his chest, fluttering and almost feathery, right where Jimmy had said his core–
Jimmy. Jimmy!
Tango bolted upright at the sudden influx of memories from the day before and he scrambled to his feet - or he tried to. Instead, his legs became tangled in the mountain of blankets he’d been sleeping under and he ended up sprawling gracelessly and unceremoniously to the floor with a distinctly inhuman, strangled shout of alarm.
“...ouch.”
Well, good morning to you too, floor.
It didn’t do much to stop him, because it was only moments later that he was half-hopping to the cave’s entrance, fighting to get his boots on as he did so. He couldn’t see Jimmy. Tango squinted across the clearing, his ears flicking around to catch whatever sounds he could…but the massive golden wings that would’ve been so easy to spot were nowhere to be seen.
Weird. Jimmy had said he’d be sticking around, so why–
A twittering trill from overhead caught Tango’s eye, and he watched curiously as a tiny golden bird soared into the clearing, gracefully fluttering down to land on the blanket he and Jimmy hadn’t put away the night before. Tango eyed the little guy curiously for only a moment as it ruffled its feathers back into place. He was just about to look away to keep searching for his temporary camping buddy when a sudden golden glow began to emanate from the bird. The light grew, shifted, changed in shape - and between one blink and the next, the bird had been replaced by Jimmy, wings and all, with a windswept ruffle to his hair. He laughed brightly in the morning sunlight, a sort of immeasurable joy lighting up his face…and Tango couldn’t help but watch. He looked so happy, so free.
“I’ve had a bit of trouble with my familiar transformations lately,” Jimmy had said, only the night before. And yet…
“Well whaddaya know,” Tango murmured, leaning back against the cliff face beside the cave’s entrance with a soft smile. He watched Jimmy get to his feet and go over to the firewood, dragging some back to the pit and arranging it into the messiest campfire setup Tango had probably ever seen. He snorted. Oh, this guy was not a camper, was he? Tango cupped his hands around his mouth and raised his voice. “Hey, Feathers!”
Jimmy jolted, his wings puffing up in alarm - which Tango was beginning to find endlessly endearing the more it happened - and he turned around, his expression brightening when his eyes fell on his magebound.
(That was the terminology, right? Magebound…? It sounded right.)
“Tango!” He greeted, waving slightly. “Morning! I was just–” He gestured to the fire pit, then the log pile, then the kettle sitting off to the side, then brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “...I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Tango laughed, bright and raspy.
“Need a hand?” he offered, his eyes crinkling with his smile, and the look of relief that swept over Jimmy at the offer was palpable.
“Please.” His smile grew lopsided. “Maybe you can teach me something this time.”
Tango’s smile brightened to a grin and that spot in his chest he was beginning to associate with Jimmy warmed ever-so-slightly. Yeah. Yeah, he could do that. And if Jimmy was willing to stick around for even longer, then maybe Tango could learn a bit more about this whole magebond thing in return, before they broke it.
If they broke it.
As he crouched down beside Jimmy, straightening logs and branches and guiding him through building a proper fire, watching as Jimmy stuck his tongue out to focus, Tango quietly hoped that maybe they wouldn’t have to break it so soon. Or maybe, if Jimmy was willing, maybe they wouldn’t have to break it at all.
Yeah. Yeah, that sounded pretty nice to him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
[A/N: I can't tell you how much fun I had bringing this story to life! Magic systems have always been a fascination of mine, and the one for this universe - hah. If anyone is curious I'd be willing to go into a deeper explanation about how magebonds work and what the witch/familiar dynamic normally is, but at this point it's more important to know that it's a stand-in for the Double Life soulbond with a more by-choice twist. This whole AU concept started with Ren and Martyn, believe it or not, and one day I'd like to tell their story too. But we'll see where it goes! I have a lot of scattered and intricate ideas for this universe, and I think I'll play it by ear to see where my inspiration takes me.
As for our ranchers, I feel like their first meeting would've felt out of character if it hadn't involved a bit of chaos and a bit of clumsiness lol. Where in canon Tango was the one to bring them together by losing them their first life, I thought it would only be fitting for him to be the reason he and Jimmy meet here too in some similarly accident-prone way…though I do feel a bit bad that it was Jimmy who got the brunt of it instead of Tango this time. 😋 It's okay! Everything turned out for the better anyway! Many MANY thanks to Hybbat, Lemon_bread, and Automaticnerdbread for being my lovely betas over the past few months (especially Hybs, you know how many times I've popped into your inbox for Rancher insight lmao) - y'all have been amazing!
Oh! We also had a pair of really cool character sheets from Fantasykiri that didn't really have a place in the fic proper, so I feel like I should share them here in the endnotes instead! Be sure the check out all the artists who contributed their skills and talents to this story, and thanks so much for reading! Comments and critiques (and spelling corrections asjkbas) are always accepted!]
[The artists: @fantasykiri5 [Trapped] [Jimmy] [Tango], @joifee [Feathers], @aviomons [Magic], and @setacin [Campire]
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seralyra · 4 months
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Fic idea I had at the start of Secret Life that didn't age well:
Grian joined the Watchers after leaving Evo for a time as a way to de-stress. Watching is much less hard work than creating, after all. But his urge to be active, play and meddle in a much more direct way brought him back to being a Player.
Or at least part time Player. He still has his Eyes everywhere. He wants to see what his friends are up to when he's not with them, after all. Nosy boy that he is. He tends to come "home" to watch every now and again, catching up with the other Watchers.
The Watchers love watching him in turn, especially the little death games he's hosting every now and again. But just watching... well if you're invested in a show as much as the Watchers have been, someday just watching just isn't enough. Also Grian has been a bad influence on them.
Grian isn't all too sure he should allow a bunch of otherworldly beings to directly interfere with his games. He knows exactly how well that had worked on Evo. Although back there he hadn't been one of them and he hadn't been the one to host the games.
But whenever he comes to visit his weird family to watch and relax, they keep pestering him. And eventually his resolve crumbles.
The Secret Keeper is his solution to keep his Players safe from the Watchers more... aggressive... playstyle. Through the Secret Keeper they can affect the game without breaking it. And Grian, being the admin, can do damage control by bending the rules to fit everyones best interest.
What he didn't account for was the Watchers ulterior motives. They'd seen Scar and Grian dance around each other in circles for too long at this point. And they were determined to do something about it.
First point of the agenda: Get BigB out of the picture and make him dig a hole.
Second point... okay they got a bit distracted with the whole Mumbo and Grian dynamic. Those two were just the funniest people together, who could blame them?
Third... profits? They were still working it out. But they would get there. If Grian liked it or not.
On a more meta note and to explain my made up concept:
I always liked the interpretation of the Watchers as a representation for the audience. We meddle. We can be kind and cruel. Some of us are the ultimate backseat gamers. But most importantly: We are fluid.
A lot of the audience doesn't just watch. We also create and play. We switch roles. Sometimes we are Watchers. Other times we are Players.
We can't enter all the universes directly, of course. The Hermitcraft servers. The Traffic Life servers. Those are glass bubbles for us to look into and yell at. But even if we can't enter them we can usually affect them from the outside.
The Secret Keeper is our way of getting into the Life Series this season. Grian explicitly told us to come up with tasks, making us the Watchers.
And thus the Watchers in this take aren't (always) cruel and don't force Grian to just watch. They can be forceful and demanding, but in the end, they are fond of Grian and don't want to actively harm him.
It's more of the other way around! Grian is different from them in the sense that he was a Player first and a Watcher second. And he's been slowly showing them the joy of creating on their own. They've dabbled in meddling, of course. But they usually were very passive when they weren't busy keeping worlds running.
But now? Now they really wanna play, too.
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crowsongcaws · 5 months
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Life Series/Traffic Life Headcanon: Grian did not start the games, but he definitely picked it up and made it his own, and he keeps that a secret.
Obviously, of course, Grian is a watcher. However, he hates it and tries to distance himself from other watchers. When the watchers first begin taunting him about starting these games, he tries to stop it. However, despite being a watcher himself, he's a very weak one and barely knows how to use/manage his own abilities because he's distanced himself from it.
So, rather than try to stop it, he tries bargaining with the watchers and ends up reaching a deal: he won't try to mess with the games so long as he gets to also be part of it to make sure that his friends are safe.
What he doesn't know is that when the games start, everyone's memories will be nearly wiped clean including his own. Without his detailed memories of his hatred of watchers, his knowledge of watchers, and his refusal to use his abilities, he begins to lean into the natural desires and instincts that come with being a watcher. He feeds on strong emotions, and what emotion is stronger than fear, grief, and hatred?
So, while he originally buddied up with Scar because he felt genuine remorse for causing him to lose a life so quickly, he stays with Scar longer than originally intended because Scar encourages and helps with his chaos, and chaos causes fear.
Overcome with power, it only makes sense that it all drives him to beat Scar to death with his bare hands, and when he wins? The watchers say the prize is getting to keep the memory of what he's done.
So he goes back to Hermitcraft and can't forget the feeling of being that powerful. No one else in the game blames him for acting like that since his memory was wiped clean just like theirs, and they can barely remember the events of the game anyways since they didn't win. He tries to deny it, forget the feeling, and move on from it, but he can't forget how 3rd Life made him feel.
So, quietly, he begins telling the other players that he thinks the watchers are making another game. They start preparing, and they comfort him/thank him for warning them beforehand that it's happening. And then he reaches out to the watchers himself asking to do it all over again.
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eloquentornot · 5 months
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Just a clip from my exploration of the world download.
I'd forgotten. I don't remember if we saw this room exactly as it is here in a video, but it reminded me of something she'd said. Empires False, claiming that Hermit False was the bad one. That the one who had unnatural violent instincts was actually the victim, the one who locked her away entirely to blame...
And I don't know, it still feels ambiguous. From the Hermitcraft series perspective, the Other One lashed out for no reason, and would naturally be someone who would either be crazy and believe her own innocence, or lie even to her own amnesiac future self to cause more chaos... But then, Hermit False hinted at trying to influence the other's memories, with that book of only the good parts... and what other experiments did she have, down in that now broken basement?
I was just thinking the other day that maybe there could be an in-story explanation for why False hasn't mentioned her lost twin, who she was apparently best friends with for her entire life up until that point, since the end of the crossover. I thought maybe she could have had an accident with one of the amnesia potions, forgotten her sister, started to believe her own lies about having always been only one person...
But what if... what if it really was her fault? What if the murderous False really had been innocent, before the experiments? What if she wasn't really a twin... and which one of them was really the clone? Both of them were villains to each other...
Have we seen a villain version of a hermit take over their life successfully, hidden in plain sight?
And with the confusion of all the amnesia potions they both had access to... will either of them ever realise it?
When the "evil" False on Empires claimed to have all her memories back... how would she know for sure? Was it really the Rift affecting her, since she suddenly went for redemption once it was gone? Or was that just an effect of her having read the book the HC one left her and forgotten but still been affected by the more positive memories??
Aaaaa I love this story so much there are so many possibilities!! I'm probably never going to be able to let it go...
I think just so I can enjoy False's next HC season without being constantly distracted, I'll try to mostly believe that she was the "good" one (relatively speaking) and that she was being honest as far as she knew and that she had an accident with an amnesia potion which is why the lost twin never gets brought up again (or that, even if she was the actually bad one, an amnesia potion accident got her believing her own lies so she's good now, nice irony if that's the case) oh, but if she ever does bring the Empires character back, I'll be ready!!
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wren-kitchens · 2 years
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a party goes awry (in the best possible way)
TW: alcohol, suggestive (kind of, like there’s no sex or anything), making out
hey guess who learnt how to use ao3 links properly
anyway i’m mentally ill over flower ranchers and this took me a week so please reblog lmao
scott is lost in his thoughts again. it seems to be happening a lot recently, now everyone is back together. without the existential threat of permanent death looming over them, he has more time to actually think about things. 
and boy, are there a lot of things to think about.
the one he can’t seem to shake is the question that’s been bugging him for most of the past year and a half: feelings? he doesn’t quite know if he still likes jimmy— having your stomach do somersaults every time you see someone probably means you still like them, right? — but recently a new problem has arisen. tango.
jimmy and tango definitely like each other. and, maybe, scott has found himself watching tango for a little too long to be considered friendliness.
but he can hardly help it. everyone is in their server’s skins, not the life series’ ones now, and god . no one can blame him for staring, not when tango is in blue and black robes, a dark metal crown and black eyeliner and lipstick . and scott thought his own lipstick was cool.
scott is spending a lot of time alone now. not on purpose, but he just can’t find the energy needed to hide his feelings, and honestly, blushing and stammering all the time is just embarrassing.
on the third day, grian (the creator of the life servers) hosts a server-wide party, mainly to remind everyone of the funniest deaths and mishaps over the past 3 games.
nearly everyone looks very different than they did on the life games. of course, there are some people who dress the same no matter what, but for the most part, everyone is looking around at everyone else (mostly the empires members) with surprise.
scott has spent most of the party wandering around, carefully avoiding tango and jimmy, and taking pointed sips of his wine every time one of them looks up at him. until, that is, cleo grabs his wrist and pulls him into a corner, ignoring his yelp of shock.
“are you just gonna ignore them this whole time?” she asks. “because it’s starting to get painful to watch.”
“that- well, that was the plan .” scott says, greatly surprised that he hasn’t spilled his wine. “I avoid them, tango goes back to hermitcraft and I can go back to empires. jimmy lives, like, a thousand blocks away, i’ll be fine.”
cleo raises a disapproving eyebrow. “and you think that’s healthy ?” 
“it can’t end up too bad.” scott says.
“I think very much it can.” cleo says. “have you seen grian and scar?”
“shit, are they still not together?” scott asks.
“nope.” cleo says. “and that’s exactly what people will be saying about you-“ she jabs him in the chest. “-if you don’t get your crap together.”
“ they’re together, cleo.” scott says. he glances briefly at them, and regrets it immediately. they’re dancing together, jimmy’s arms around tango’s waist, tango’s head resting on jimmy’s shoulder. his heart plummets. 
“see.” he gestures towards them, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.
“scott-“ cleo’s voice is gentler now.
“i’m gonna go get a drink.” scott says, putting his wine on the closet table. they’ve just kissed. “something stronger.”
as he reaches the bar, he finds grian there, bottle in hand and looking as bad as scott feels. his wings are massive compared to the fledgling size they usually are on the life servers.
“evening.” scott says. 
“hey.” grian’s voice is flat and he’s looking at something. scott follows his gaze at his eyes land on scar, talking animatedly to mumbo.
scott sits on the barstool next to grian. he orders a beer then says, “you too then, huh.”
“yep.” grian says. “who is it for you?”
“probably the two in the strongest relationship on this server.” scott says, nodding in thanks to the bartender and taking his drink.
“shit.” grian says sympathetically.
“doesn’t look like you have it much better.” scott says. 
grian gives a humourless laugh. “oh, definitely not. god, why do I fall for the most unattainable people.”
“i’ll drink to that.” scott raises his bottle. 
grian clanks his own bottle against scott’s. 
“this,” pearls voice says. “is a very, very sad sight.”
“oh, leave us be.” grian says as scott takes a gulp of beer. 
“let us wallow in self pity. as a treat.” scott says. his thoughts are starting to feel a bit fuzzy around the edges.
“hear, hear.” grian agrees, who, by the looks of it, is also starting to get a bit drunk. his eyes are slightly crossed.
scott watches as tango spins jimmy around. they’re both laughing, their eyes crinkled up, smiles wide. they’re everything.
“-cott? scott!” 
scott starts a little and looks up at pearl. “hi.”
“you were just zoned out.” pearl frowns. “did you hear anything I said?”
“no.” scott says.
“I said that if you two carry on drinking like this, you’ll not be able to remember the past year.” she says appraisingly.
“ good .” scott says and takes another drink. 
“you’re meant to be running an empire when you get back.” pearl says. 
“oh, I don’t care .” scott waves a hand clumsily. 
“yeah, let the man be sad in peace.” grian says. 
“you shouldn’t be drinking either.” pearl rounds on him. “remember what happened last time?”
“no one cares how many eyes I have.” grian says, slurring his words ever so slightly. “it was fine . everyone’s here, aren’t they?”
“honestly..” pearl mutters. “fine, you two drink yourselves to death, i’m going to the snack bar.”
scott shrugs and returns his gaze to jimmy and tango. the song has changed, and now they’re stood and talking to scar.
scott grins. “hey, they’re talking to each other.” he elbows grian.
“do you reckon we can make ‘em jealous by, like..” grian trails off, frowning. “what can we do?”
“we could dance together.” scott suggests. 
grian takes another drink and spills a bit on his jumper. “can you dance?”
“no.” scott scoffs. “who cares?”
“I like your style.” grian nods at him.
scott slides off his barstool with less grace than he’d prefer, leaving his drink on the bar. he offers grian his hand. “shall we?”
grian’s grin is lopsided. “we shall.”
what they quickly learn is that, whilst they’re bad at dancing at the best of times, they are abysmal when drunk. they stumble, and crash into each other, and grian has smacked scott with one of his wings at least 3 times, and it’s so much fun. 
them both being drunk definitely helps, but after a minute they’re nearly collapsing with laughter, their original purpose almost completely forgotten.
almost completely forgotten.
as the second song fades out, scott spots scar moving towards the bar, a very miserable expression on his face. 
scott leans in to grian. “call scar over to dance.” it’s not quite a whisper, but it was meant to be. 
grian turns around, his grin widening as he sees scar. 
“scar!” he waves, jumping up and down. “scar, come dance with us!” 
scar’s expression visibly changes to excitement in a second, and he quickly walks over, almost disregarding his cane.
“yay!” grian hugs scar once he reaches them. 
“oh, hello.” scar chuckles. when grian stands back again, scar surveys him. “you’re drunk?”
“very drunk.” grian giggles. “I missed you!”
“aww.” scott grins. “you two are the best couple.”
“we’re, uhm. not- not a couple.” scar’s face is bright red.
scott frowns. are they not? he definitely remembers something about them dating. or was it them liking each other? it’s a bit fuzzy. “really? you should be.”
“yeah we should.” grian nods. “you’re handsome.”
“I- you- um. what?” scar stammers.
“can I kiss you?” grian asks. 
scott doesn’t reckon he’s seen a man look more flustered than scar does right now.
“you’re- but you’re drunk, you might regret it.” scar manages.
“well that depends on if you love me too.” grian says. 
“I- god, you - really ?” scar says. 
“I need a yes or no.” grian says. “to both.”
“yes.” scar says. “yes, to- to both.”
grian doesn’t waste any time. he grabs the collar of scar’s shirt, pulls him down and kisses him. they kiss for just enough time for it to have embarrassed scott if he was sober, before grian pulls away.
“i’m gonna go now, plan worked.” grian tells scott.
scott grins. “oh yeah.” 
“plan- what?” scott hears scar say as grian and he walk off, towards the door.
scott moves back over to the bar. jimmy and tango are dancing again, so his part of the plan obviously didn’t work. ah well, one out of two ain’t bad. is that how the saying goes?
he orders another beer, starts to watch jimmy and tango again, and..
well, that’s where everything goes fuzzy. the alcohol starts to get the better of him, and he can’t seem to keep everything straight (ha). 
one minute he’s at the bar, the next he’s by jimmy and tango, and the next..
—-
scott’s skull has been smashed in with a hammer. it must have been — there’s no better explanation for how much it hurts. he registers the feeling of a duvet over him, and he’s definitely wearing less clothes than he last remembers. his shoes, hat and coat are gone, at least.
he opens his eyes, and luckily the room is dark enough for it not to make his headache worse. he still has to squint though. 
“christ alive.” he mutters. his throat is hoarse and scratchy when he speaks. “what even..” he turns over and nearly jumps out of his skin. 
next to him, is jimmy’s face, looking worriedly at him.
“jesus-!” scott scrambles back slightly, then winces as his head throbs in protest.
“sorry, sorry.” jimmy says, stepping backwards hurriedly. “um. how are you feeling?”
“like someone’s cracked my head open.” he groans, sitting up. “what even happened?”
“you don’t remember?”
the door opens and tango walks in, turning the light on. the sudden light makes scott’s head feel even worse, and he scrunches up his eyes in protest.
however, after a second, he realises that there is red and black lipstick smudged on jimmy’s face and neck. with dawning horror, he looks over at tango to see his own lipstick smeared, with the unmistakable red of scott’s accompanying it.
“oh no.” scott mutters.
“you were,” tango grins as he sees scott’s face. “ extremely drunk last night. not that i’m complaining.”
**
scott decides he’s spent too much time sitting around, as he finishes his 3rd beer. he stands up, stumbling, and walks determinedly over to tango and jimmy. 
“i’m gonna be honest here,” scott says, startling the two a little. “you are the most handsome people i’ve ever met.”
“you-“ jimmy’s face goes pink. “um. thank you.”
“you’re kind.” tango chuckles, blushing. “are you drunk?”
“mm.” scott grins.
his thoughts are all sloshing around in his mind, but the only one he can grasp is that he really wants to kiss these two people.
it all goes a little blurry, and scott isn’t quite sure how it happens, but the next thing he knows he’s backed up against the wall, kissing jimmy. they both have smears of black lipstick on their necks.
scott pulls back from the kiss to mouth down the side of jimmy’s throat. jimmy makes a noise that’s somewhere between a sigh and a groan.
suddenly, he’s kissing tango, and his brain feels like mush. his legs turn to jelly as tango’s teeth graze his bottom lip, and he has to lean against the wall for support.
both jimmy’s and tango’s lips are on his neck now, and scott might be about to die. this theory is proved when he feels teeth against his skin and he practically collapses, groaning.
***
“oh, god .” scott buries his face in his hands. “i’m never getting drunk again.”
“you’re a good kisser.” tango smirks. “jimmy’d said, but I never knew how good.”
“why did you get so drunk?” jimmy asks, briefly glaring at tango. “you never really did before.”
“it’s stupid.” scott looks up again. “i’d spent the past few days avoiding you because i didn’t want to make a fool of myself, and then there was the party and you were dancing together and kissing and- ugh, I was jealous.”
“aw, you were jealous?” tango says. “oh my god, wait, that’s why you were avoiding us?”
“yes.” scott blushes. “it’s embarrassing now .” 
“you’re adorable.” jimmy grins. “what was up with you and grian then?”
“a series of drunken decisions.” scott says. “grian was at the bar when I was there, and we both got equally drunk, and decided to dance together on the off-chance it made you guys and scar jealous.”
“you did that on purpose?” tango exclaims. 
“it worked on you?” scott asks, surprised. “I thought it was just scar.”
“yeah, well.” tango is blushing. “he was the first to go to the bar. we assumed there was nothing between you after grian kissed scar.”
“I still consider that my finest idea.” scott says. “just how long have we been waiting for them to get together?” 
“too long.” jimmy shakes his head solemnly. 
“so, um. what does that make us?” tango asks.
“well, i mean,” scott says, suddenly nervous. “i’d like to be.. well, more than friends. only- only if you guys-“
“I think we’re okay with it.” jimmy says, looking to tango.
“yeah. definitely okay with it.” tango nods.
“boyfriends?” scott asks, failing to disguise his excitement.
“boyfriends.” 
—-
word, it seems, has gotten ‘round, and in the afternoon everyone meets up to discuss the happenings of the night prior. a few people look a bit hungover, but no one as much as scott and grian.
grian looks both proud and incredibly embarrassed, and he keeps pulling up the collar of his jumper. scar is wearing a turtleneck, talking to mumbo.
scott grins and walks up to him. “so, you guys had fun last night?”
grian huffs. “yeah, well. we were.. a little tired of pining.” his eyes land on something on scott’s neck. “looks like you did too.” he smirks.
“oh, that’s just from the makeup wipes.” scott says, but when he holds a hand against his neck, his fingers press on a bruise, making him hiss with pain. 
“i don’t think that’s makeup wipes.” grian smirks.
scott’s face burns. “oh my god.” he mutters, trying to pull his coat’s collar higher on his neck. with increasing horror, he glances behind him at tango and jimmy, and realises that they have very similar bruises on their own necks. 
grian cackles. “oh my god, did you not know?”
“it was- they were covered with makeup!” scott says, hurriedly feeling for any more, and finding at least 2 more. “the wipes- it usually makes the area sting a bit, I just thought-“
he turns around and gestures urgently for jimmy and tango to join him. they do, and scott hurriedly tells them. it gives him some reassurance that they’re as panicked as he is. jimmy ties his bandanna higher on his neck, and tango pulls his hood around his.
“oh, hey guys.” scar says cheerily, walking to them. he slips his hand into grian’s, who in turn blushes. “aw, you keep doing that.” scar grins, looking down at him.
“leave me alone, this is new.” grian says.
“what do we say to scott for getting you together?” scott grins, thankful for the change in topic.
grian rolls his eyes. “thank you.” he drones. 
“I still can’t quite believe you’ve liked me this whole time.” scar says. “like, it’s been-“
“years.” scott, tango and jimmy finish in unison. 
“you all knew ?” grian exclaims.
“you think you were subtle?” tango says. “the only people who didn’t know were you guys.”
grian scoffs and looks up at scar. “can you believe this?”
scar shrugs. “yes. I didn’t realise you were my soulbound until the second time you dropped dripstone on my head.” he laughs as grian slaps his arm. “well you asked!”
“how did you guys get together then?” grian asks.
scott feels himself blush. “well. I don’t really remember how .”
“you came up to us, drunk as anything, and called us ‘the most handsome people’ you’d ever met.” tango grins.
“then you started talking about how much you wanted to kiss us.” jimmy adds. “it sounded more like you were just voicing your thoughts, actually.”
“oh, kill me now.” scott buries his face in his hands. 
“and then-“
“no, I remember that bit quite well.” scott says quickly.
grian laughs. “oh, i’m sure you do.”
“shut up.” scott says. “don’t think I didn’t notice scar’s turtleneck; you usually have to tell him to put his shirt on every ten seconds.”
“alright, alright, i’m sure both of you got a nice amount of hickeys.” cleo’s voice cuts through, embarrassingly loud. “you don’t have to compete, it’s okay.”
“ cleo .” grian hisses, pink again.
“oh, come on, you five are the topic of the server!” cleo grins. “i’ve won so much money since yesterday, it’s amazing. so please, keep talking incredibly obviously about you making out last night.” 
“I did tell you not to get so drunk.” 
scott yelps in shock, jumping sideways. pearl has just appeared next to him.
“jesus!” scott says.
pearl laughs. “it is not hard to overhear you.”
“i’d say it was worth it.” tango says to scott. 
“i’m just hoping you don’t have to be drunk to do that again.” jimmy smirks.
scott turns bright pink. “I can’t believe I fell for you two.”
“but you did~” jimmy singsongs. 
“oh, I really did.” scott smiles. he nudges jimmy. “I never knew you had a thing for ice wizards.”
“oh shut up.” jimmy blushes. “it’s a coincidence .”
“someone has a type~” tango teases, in the same tone as jimmy.
“I do not .” jimmy protests. 
“is it the blue hair?” scott says.
“I reckon it’s the blue hair.” tango nods. 
“you were blonde when I started dating you.” jimmy reminds him.
“yeah, and I wasn’t an ice wizard when you first dated me .” scott says. “it just happens.”
“hey, maybe jimmy doesn’t have a type, maybe he just bestows ice powers onto whoever he dates.” tango says.
“ooh, yeah!” scott says. “I already had the blue hair, maybe that just comes with the ice.”
“ guys .” jimmy says. “I don’t give people ice magic when I date them.” 
“aw, really?” tango whines. “but that’d be- mmph!”
jimmy has interrupted him by kissing him. “shush about the ice magic.” he says.
tango blushes. “yep, will do.” 
scott laughs. “i hope you do, though. maybe i’ll get the magic again, that was fun.”
jimmy makes an annoyed noise, before grabbing the collar of scott’s shirt and kissing him, hard. scott’s brain short-circuits, and now all he can think is how much he missed kissing jimmy.
“I think you’ve effectively shut both of them up.” grian’s voice says from a distant world that isn’t this kiss.
jimmy pulls back, grinning. 
“jesus.” scott mutters to himself.
“hear hear.” tango agrees.
grian bursts out laughing. “oh my god, you guys are made for each other.”
scott doesn’t know how he got so lucky.
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andyling · 1 year
Text
Heyyyyy so session 5 sure was a time SO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!
BOOGEYMAN 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO WITH TANGO OF THE TEK
Team Ties really woke up and chose violence this session
were they even trying to kill anyone? i think they just wanted chaos
TANGO BOOGEY TWICE IN A ROW HELL YEAH LET’S GO
TEAM BEST FLASHBACKS TEAM BEST FLASHBACKS 
soooo Team Bites hmmm, let’s see how long that lasts
Skizz I’m sorry, but Bdubs betrayed y’all before in Last Life and he sure as hell will do it again
EVERYONE STEALS THE MEAN GILLS’ SUGARCANE LMAO
I think the whole reason Team Ties blew up the bread bridge was because they had too much TNT and all of them are obsessed with blowing shit up
Like they didn’t go for anyone’s actual bases, they weren’t trying to destroy resources, and they weren’t trying to kill anyone
motherfuckers just wanted to make things go boom
AND I AM IN FULL SUPPORT OF THAT WOO GO TEAM TIES
Tango’s toaster PSA caught me so off guard WHO GAVE HIM THAT IDEA?!?!? WHY IS HE LIKE THIS?!?!?
the fact that Tango had already accepted that their tower was gonna get destroyed, mans may be insane but he’s fair that’s for sure
awwwwww them chanting MVP to Etho is so sweet
tango’s the server resident professional warden wrangler now
good to know Tango still remembers every person that’s wronged him
TANGO FINALLY GOT REVENGE ON BDUBS FOR LAST LIFE HAHAHAHA WOOOOOOO ABOUT FUCKING TIME!!!! >:D
also Tango getting an effective trap out of tnt minecarts is character development, good for him! :D
soooo does Tango have the most time out of everyone on the server now?
team bites did not last long askdghajsghkjadkdsak
Nosy Neighbors and Team Ties becoming allies is not something I expected to happen, but it is very welcomed
Team Ties are actually pretty great to have as allies as long as you don’t spite them, then honey you got a big storm coming
THE SATISFACTION I FELT WHEN TANGO BROUGHT UP LAST LIFE TO BDUBS IS IMMESURABLE HELL YEAH BABY REVENGE IS SWEET
Jimmy “sad boi” Solidarity everyone
Love how Jimmy spends most of Limited Life acting as though he’s in a Let’s Play series
mans is in the middle of a death game and he’s like “Alright gang, today we’re getting sheep!”
gotta love how the title for “most antagonistic team on the server” keeps bouncing between the Bad Bois and Team Ties 
Flower Husbands and their never-ending divorce
bye bye bad bois bread bridge
why is Joel specifically blaming Tango akjfjhdkasghkadjs
it’s hilarious how they’re all questioning why Team Ties blew up the bread bridge when the actual answer is probably “they like blowing things up”
no thoughts, head empty, just boom boom
WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT GRIAN’S ALLIANCE WITH SKIZZ THAT SEEMS LIKE IT SHOULD BE IMPORTANT IS IT STILL INTACT???
BRUH JIMMY IS SO EMOTIONALLY ATTACHED TO THAT FROG DO YOU HEAR HIS VOICE GODDAMN
awwww judge judy and executioner jumped to Jimmy that’s cute
PEARL NO
poor judge judy and executioner :(
Grian is so appalled at the carrot cake oh my gosh
GRIAN CALLING THE FROG CONFLICT A SIDE PLOT, THAT’S CANON
dude Grian is so done with everything 
the Bad Bois and the Clockers are family now, this family tree is wack
Scar you can’t call them Boomers when Bdubs was literally on a team called the Boomers on Hermitcraft with Impulse and Tango
AMAZING HOW THE BAD BOIS WENT INTO THE TIES BASE AND JOEL AND JIMMY HAD NO IDEA WHY
this is why we all think Grian’s gonna betray them
GRIAN’S SHEER PANIC WHEN GETTING ATTACKED BY THE ENDERMAN MY MAN WAS LOSING HIS MIND
everyone is so nonchalant about reds this season 
Zombiecleo watches her children make poor decisions for 40 minutes
Cleo packing snacks for Bdubs and Scar and then sending them to be supervised elsewhere is so funny
sending them to Etho was probably not a great idea though considering Team Ties need supervision themselves 
they don’t have any which is why they’re constantly going off the rails
LMAO CLEO OVERHEARD TEAM BITES ENTIRE CONVERSATION
I LOVE THE SUBTITLES THAT CLEO PUTS IN HER VIDEOS THEY’RE SO FUNNY
ooooooooh Bdubs is in troubleeeeee
it really does feel like he’s being scolded by his mother LMAO
Scar really decided to make up a whole ass holiday and not tell anyone else on the server except for his family and only to give them presents
BDUBS WHAT DO YOU MEAN ETHO STARTED SMOKING HELLO???
love how aware Cleo is of whatever the fuck is going on with Bdubs and Etho throughout the life series
THE ENDERMAN ARE REALLY GOING OFF THIS SESSION
honestly i think Cleo dislikes Team Ties because of Etho and Etho specifically, like she seems pretty chill with Tango
“if you’re gonna be an absent father could you at least be absent” GOES SO HARD HOLY SHIT CLEO GO OFF QUEEN
Bdubs is so close to being disowned by his family
CLEO AND SCAR KNOWING FULLY WELL THAT BDUBS IS ABOUT TO BE BOOGEY KILLED AND SAYING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO HIM
whelp Team Bites is dead
THE AWKWARD FAMILY DINNER OH MY FUCKING GOD
“Bdubs, how was your day?” Etho asks fully aware that his teammate blew Bdubs up because of Boogey and a two season long grudge
“This episode is weirder than the one with the fever” IT REALLY IS
ETHO DIDN’T EVEN FLINCH WHEN BDUBS PLACED THAT TNT DOWN MANS JUST CARRYING ON AS IF NOTHING HAPPENED
“wth is this dynamic?” YOU TELL ME CLEO YOU’RE THE ONE PLAYING INTO IT DON’T ACT LIKE YOU AREN’T
mom and dad are fighting
WHY ARE THEY PLAYING CATCH WITH A TNT MINECART WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM 
“sometimes children only learn the hard way” THEY NEVER LEARN
i don’t even think Etho was trying to kill them, all of them are just insane
this is the reason that skizzle didn’t go red first, THIS IS THE REASON
Etho is definitely losing the custody battle
CLEO’S PANIC UPON HEARING SCAR’S ABOUT TO GO RED
i’m getting flashbacks with “the red army rises” goddammit
what the fuck is wrong with Skizz
In conclusion, next session is gonna be WILD
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starrihideshere · 1 month
Text
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test, test, 1 2 3...
This is STAR !
me, me, me !
my name is Star, he / him, aroace and genderfluid, sun capricorn, moon aries , rising leo, infj, #1 nana stan, bulgarian and kurdish, living in denmark, rlly tall and a total smokeshow of a guitarist
a shifter since december of 2020 (dracotok got me...), a kpop stan since mid / late 2021
my pookies !!!
ults : ateez (hongjoong), xdinary heroes (junhan), lucy (yechan)
other : txt (huening kai), kiss of life (haneul), new jeans (hanni), enhypen (jungwon), p1harmony (jongseob)
non k-pop : hozier, mitski, sade, v:rgo, central cee, sabrina carpenter, sickick, doja cat, the weeknd, chase atlantic
other intrests : hermitcraft, the life series, death note, the way of the househusband, scream (blame nana for this one), reading, photocard trading / collecting
this blog !
probably just me beefing with nana tbh, abt my drs and my shifting journey, manifesting and anything random I feel like putting on the internet forever
- yours truly
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peridotglimmer · 8 months
Text
Kinktober 2023 Masterpost
31 ficlets with 31 different ships
The full series can be found here!
Day 1: Collars - False/Cleo (Hermitcraft) | Decoration
Day 2: Clothed Sex - Diana/47 (Hitman) | Close Quarters
Day 3: Choking - Wyatt/Emma (Timeless) | Insufferable
Day 4: Desk Sex - Cameron/House (House M.D.) | By Reason of Insanity
Day 5: Bathing - Chloe/Nadine (Uncharted) | Reën in die Klein Karoo
Day 6: Pegging - Evil X/Cleo (Hermitcraft) | Repent
Day 7: Praise Kink - Evie/Élise (AC: Syndicate & AC: Unity) | Rules
Day 8: Lingerie - Bridget/Vera (Wentworth) | Coming Home to You
Day 9: Wall Sex - Beckett/Castle (Castle) | Blame It on the Hormones
Day 10: Coming Untouched - Pia Douwes/Uwe Kröger (Musical Theatre RPF) | Transition #1 [Note: written in German!]
Day 11: Breeding Kink - False/Pearl/Cleo (Hermitcraft) | When You Came In (The Air Went Out)
Day 12: Blow Jobs - Peyton/Blaine (iZombie) | Silence Is Golden
Day 13: Sixty-Nine - Loba/Valkyrie (Apex Legends) | Attention Management
Day 14: Ropes - Mirage/Wraith (Apex Legends) | Scout's Honour
Day 15: Voyeurism - Etho/Cleo (Limited Life SMP) | Respite
Day 16: Mirror Sex - Diana/Lucas (Hitman) | Change of Scenery
Day 17: Forced Orgasms - Xisuma/Keralis (Hermitcraft) | Entertainment
Day 18: Multiple Orgasms - False/Everyone (Hermitcraft) | for the sake of good times
Day 19: Stripping - Addison/Callie (Grey's Anatomy) | Sharing Is Caring
Day 20: Frottage - Becky/Felicity (Hidden Agenda) | Alive
Day 21: Somnophilia - House/Cuddy (House M.D.) | Good Morning Sunshine
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iconsumeheadcanons · 2 years
Text
gathering notes on this crossover
making a list of observations and headcanons of todays crossover episodes
keralis and jevin live in a universe where youtube and twitter exist. keralis knows sausage from videos. sausage doesnt know what theyre talking about and he calls servers ‘realms’.
pix knows of the internet (tbf he doesnt have a character this time round)
is keralis a god. im just gonna assume he is.
tango and jimmy know each other from double life. tango had love hearts on his screen when he recognized jimmy. they just squealed at each other. i am losing my mind. scar also thought jimmy was in another life serie. jimmy knows them all
grian...grian..
“you cant hide from me timmy! >:)”
multiverse grian still going strong of course lmao, grian knows everybody
his character seems to understand the existence of servers and streams. would this be considered awareness of internet or are streams like technoblades chat/voices thingie?
“so who doesnt have an open chest policy?”
fae grian/borrower grian becomes closer to truth every day
(tango and fwhip was a combo i never knew i needed but its so awesome. honestly many of the hermits and fwhip is awesome)
pirate joe is very concerned about how shocked papa k looks like all the time
almost everyhermit showed up in their default skins. impulse is still a bald dwarf tho. pearl is god.
multiple hermits want to make their own empires. they have learned nothing from King Rentheking
jevin da slime. shelby keeps killing his brethren ;; no one bring him to animalia
ofc they did not check to see if they can get back to hermitcraft
OMG THERES NO ACTUAL PORTAL BACK. THEY ARE VERY STUCK.
is there an admin left on hermitcraft? x and tango and joe are stuck in empires lmao
joel knows them as well. im just gonna say its probably bc hes god.
convex are silly as usual
cub is a fan of joel the god. i love cub being completely unfazed by the innuendos. there is absolutely nothing strange about sausage giving keralis his wood.
grian is stealing. i mean borrowing.
ONE NIGHT ARMOR STAND
sausage doesnt know what an armor stand is lmao
empires people wonder whats up with false. shes missing her clothes that she stole from a dead body. is she okay
cogsmeade false took a introverted trip away from all this noise. her mysterious notes might reference the traveling hermits
“THIS IS SAINT PEARL!” fwhip in the background, “ there is no legal action for murder”
scott thinks pearl might be a cosplayer
pearl does not know who sausage is at all, uh oh.
via sausage’s notes:
Keralis: info; lumberjack, speaks spanish; powers; hypnotizing gaze +15
jevin: half slime/skelly, likes to steal; powers unknown
grian: blamed for rift (good knowledge for if sausage ever wants to sue him for emotional damages btw), likes the color red; powers; pesky bird (as heard from others)
scar: cat lover, doesnt like unsafe nether portals, powers; big goblin ears for flight
tango: thinks bubbles is a hyena, likes big hats; powers; low level witch/spell caster
false: doesnt remember me, is she the same false?; unknown powers
impulse: likes to go underground
cub: impressed by my wood!, looks like a scientist
Pearlescent Moon: looks a lot like santa pearla?! used to be fighter; powers; +20 str, +10 ag, +15 speed, +30 awesomeness
cleo: possible pirate, pirate joe killed her parrot, undead day walker +25 (just like sausage!)
an xisuma (or shishswambam): possible pirate, witch hunter?!; powers; heavy armor protections +20 durability
pixl and doc are acquainted. no biggie
someone pls save impulse. he is still sick. very polite
how has grian not blown up the sheriffs tnt shop yet
fwhip and lizzie didnt react to mentions of Grian, but fwhip has heard of scarland theme park. dosney ascends all universes apparently
lizzie is scared of the strangers. just like kitty
oli is also multiversing
hermit locations:
scar ended up in tumble town, intends to build old west locomotive. honorary goblin, aiming for position of deputy (he might move to whoever can bring him a jellie first)
tango will be a wonky engineer for gobland
keralis is probably moving in with sausage. amores
grian and impulse are building a place for the hermits but grians trying to convince oli to move closer
joe is napping at scotts tavern for now
(everyone is gushing about the empires builds and their colors! its so cute! jimmys friends all complementing tumble town is making me smile)
empires leaders are literally all like “oh god, we have guests. we have to clean up STAT”
goblins dont need sleep, probably dont like the overworld because the phantoms
fwhips poor ears..so much noise
grians webcam mic is back. and HIS FRIENDS ARE HERE
gonna pretend his voice is messed up by the rift lol
oli flies on the power of song
grian and oli on the same smp. no one is safe.
grian is making fun oli for being poor and then immediately goes to bully timmy
HERMIT SPECIES: they are shorter. big feet. thats it. (love this idea lmao)
grian... grian.
fwhips texture pack is native variation of foliage in empires smp
hes determined to destroy the empires’s bartering system. capitalist instinct
oh no the rift isnt purple anymore,,,it broke,,,
someone please stop grian from interacting w the multiverse. he keeps getting stuck and breaking things
impulse is in very sick denial about this whole situation, someone please tuck this man into bed he is very lost
lizzie likes that impulse instinctively parkoured on her froggy village
fwhip has incurred a debt onto impulse. poor guy
empires smp is the lands of the thirteen empires
has no one noticed the princess of dawn?
joe was under the assumption that grumbot was punishing them for not finishing the content quests
joe has access to the litematica it seems like
are we counting joes court audition as joe also living in the real world. does he and keralis come from the outside world and jevin and cleo just get to hear about the internet?
someone thought empires was an old hermitcraft world
oli doesnt know most of the hermits
oli and joe is such a gift. oli has adopted them bc he looks so pathetic
im desperate to know about cub and docs reactions to this whole shebang
every emperor says joel is very mean and that he pretends to be tall so everyone humors him by building really tall doors so he thinks he can fit
everyone insisting his empire is classist
pearl and scott and joe and cub investigate upper stratos’s shrine to peril
cub, “hey impulse, have an egg in this trying time”
IMPULSE RECOGNIZES SCOTT but no one else interestingly
“just oli, not bard oli” is joes nomenclature for oli
joe was immediately overwhelmed. felt.
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