Flower Husbands Week 2022

SCOTTSMAJOR (13) nominated from Origins SMP, Empires, Area Unknown SMP, 3rd Life, Afterlife (vampire), Rats SMP, 30 Day Hardcore, CrazyCraft, MCC, X Life

vs

youve seen the empiresshipping poll, youve seen the hermitshipping poll, now get ready for the Trafficshipping Poll!!!!!

this took a surprisingly long time to make considering theres like 17 of em and only so many ships

vote here

A/N: I wanted to write at least a little something for this week. :) @flower-husbands-week

It was the flowers, not practicality, that had originally drawn the pair to their home. Blushing water lilies relaxed on the surface of the shallow pool that hollowed the mossy carpet of the valley, speckled by the stray petals of many a blossoming tree. Wildflowers of every kind grew in the soft grass, their names poetry alone - meadowfoam and celandine, forget-me-not, amaranthus and maylilies. Scott had quickly made it his mission to learn the names of every one.

The valley was a shelter, paradise amidst a land infested with death - death, which lurked over every hill, which hung in the air like smoke and poisoned every consciousness like ink in water. Death that clawed friendships apart, that hollowed hearts and blackened hopes.

But after any conflict, they had the hollow to return to. Sheltered by the ridge of birch trees, they could lounge in the soft grass as they discussed their alliances and worries, or sit in silence and watch the bees visit the snapdragons and foxgloves, tucking themselves snugly into each bell before flying off again. There was safety within the two houses, cut snugly into the cliffs with the water between them.

Autumn’s chill settled over the valley, and the flowers of spring and summer died, replaced by thick brambles that offered a wealth of blackberries as though in apology for the season.

“Do you think we’ll have to fight?” Jimmy asked. The two sat by the water’s edge, Scott mending a shirt while Jimmy idly examined a stem of snapdragons.

Tensions had risen, as expected, and both knew they’d soon be deeply entangled with the violence they’d so far evaded. Dogwarts and the desert dwellers were hellbent on razing eachother to the ground and seemed determined to drag those few who were unaligned with either group down with them. Their side - were they to take one - had been decided when Jimmy had burnt the Dogwarts banner in the face of the Red King.

Scott met his gaze, feeling the hairline-crack in his heart twinge at Jimmy’s troubled red eyes and ashen countenance. “Yeah, I think we will,” he agreed gravely.

“But we’ll always come back, alright?” Jimmy said solemnly, “No matter what happens, we’ll come back here and sit by the water again. Even- even if it’s just the two of us in the end.”

“Even if,” Scott agreed, fear and love welling in his heart and making his voice tremble. “Imagine if it were only us. We wouldn’t have to win or lose. There’s a life to be had here, you know? And I think we’re the only ones capable of taking it. I mean of being the final two; refusing to fight.”

“Then you promise? Promise we’ll come back here?” Jimmy proffered him the stalk of snapdragons, an unspoken token of agreement.

Scott regarded him for only a moment. “I promise.” He took the stem and tucked it behind one ear.

“Don’t you go back on that now!” Jimmy said, his grin only thinly veiled in sternness, “I’ll never forgive you if you break the Flower Vow.”

Jimmy spent a moment vainly struggling to craft a portmanteau of ‘flower vow’ before resignedly lying back in the grass.

Scott snickered and resumed his sewing. “I wouldn’t break a promise. Not to you.”

-

The valley was quiet as Scott reached the cliff edge, waiting as peacefully as ever for them. For him. His footsteps were heavy as he descended the path, sword dragging behind him, red with drying blood he hadn’t bothered to clean. He sat by the waters edge, the grass sun-warmed and the water mockingly beautiful, glinting with the late evening sun.

He felt suddenly that he wanted to curl up and crawl out of his armour, and he began to shed it piece by battered piece. The diamond he’d worked so hard for was unrecognisable under the dust and sand, the smears of soot from a desert that had been heaved skyward with explosives, and the blood of those who’d been unlucky. He was aware of his own blood drying uncomfortably on the side of his face and pulsing weakly from several wounds that stained his clothes and protested their neglect with stabs of pain.

He could go inside and rest, care for his wounds and prepare for the next battle. But the sight of the two houses was too cruel - two inviting doorways that waited patiently for their owners, unknowing that one of the valley’s residents would not return.

Something fell lightly on Scott’s hand, and he looked down to see the stalk of snapdragons, wilted and tragic in too short a time. He thought how strange it was that they’d fallen from his hair only now. He examined the flowers blankly, meeting the gaze of a cluster of grinning skulls, bloodless petals curled into delicate bone.

Here's my oneshot for Day Seven: "Home"! @flower-husbands-week

His favorite flowers rested on the soil

A tear fell from his eye

Vengeance is now on his mind

Day 3 - flowers

@flower-husbands-week days 2-7 because i Procrastinated

uh i swear i posted this yesterday but i cant find it on my blog??? so here it is now ig

HOME AT THE END OF THE WORLD

[This and all the other prompts are on AO3!]

“-find a place to build,” Scott says to himself, climbing up a small hill in the forest.

Birds chirp all around him. Whipping through the trees in droves. It’s not the time of year for them to migrate, but it isn’t a migration. It’s an evacuation.

“To call home, to claim. Set down my foundation,” he lugs his sword aside him, moping, “Start a life! A family! Maybe adopt a cat,”

"his hands are as cold as gold

Hands trace his face

As a gold crown of aoer rests on his head"

Fandom: MCC (but also more)

Pairing: Flower Husbands

AO3 Link in a self-reblog

Word Count: 1643

Jimmy always forgot just how exuberant Scott’s family was in comparison to him.

Prompt(s): Family + Home

Jimmy was definitely cheering the loudest when Scott won MCC.

As he stood in the after-game crowd to look at the winners on the winner’s stage, he began to try and make his way through so he could stand directly in front of it and maybe get a smooch from his husband, only to get stopped by an invisible arm grabbing his wrist.

He almost flung whoever it was over his shoulder in some weird kung-fu move, but when he turned to see a transparent Noxite standing next to him, he slightly calmed down. Only slightly though. The MCC Admin was interrupting his potential kisses thank you very little.

A disgruntled glare was not enough to dissuade the Admin, though, and before Jimmy knew it he was being teleported to a balcony high above where he once was. He could still see all the competitors clapping and reaching for Scott on the podium, but they were more like blobs of color than defined human shapes. Wow, Jimmy didn’t even know this place existed on the map. It was honestly kind of pretty-

“Hey!” he just remembered what he was taken away from. “Excuse me, mister, but that’s my husband down there! You have no right to keep me from him!”

Prompt: Home

Setting: Empires SMP

Characters: Scott Smajor, Jimmy Solidarity

Tags: Fluff/angst(?)

(Also available on Ao3!)

So I made another tiny bag :)

It’s a word that Scott has familiarized himself with. After all, who doesn’t know what the word ‘home’ means? 

The scholar in him says that a home is your permanent residence; his practical side tells him that a home is wherever he has a bed to stay in. The ruler in him says that his home is wherever he’ll stay when he’s not attending to business.

Scott thinks he knows what the word ‘home’ means.

But one day, Scott wakes up in a cold sweat, panting and panicking, and all he can think about is the cold.  

The cold. It’s resounding, suffocating him, creeping into the deepest caverns of his chest to chill his every crevice. It’s unbearable , he realizes, in a way that it has never been before. 

He finds himself longing for something…

Something warm, he registers as he’s chafing his hands up and down his arms. Something warm, and sticky, and wet, and soggy, and everything that Rivendell isn’t.

And it’s only days after that, looking back on the incident, that he truly asks himself—

What does the word home mean?