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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
it's kinda late to post this but whatever, i'm still gonna share it
i really wanted to draw Kallista and Kaizum again doing something nice, and ended up including the guardian triplets as well but when they were lil kids!! also, Kallista got another redesign because i wanted to do more with her hair and i love it more now!!
the background was kinda thought up last, but i imagine that in their lil home area, they have a huge garden were they grow all kinds of unique flowers they make and the triplets loved playing hide and seek there when they were kids
I have some more of Betrothals and Betrayals today :D I’ve been trying to straighten out my own timeline all day lol
~~~~~
Keria’s gaze sharpened. “The Veil is the Beyond’s way of protecting itself from the Waking World abusing its energy. It was a natural disaster.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Was it?” He began pacing again, steps restless with all the memories resurfacing. “The failure of the Exodus made me… Reckless. I became hot-headed, barely bothering to conceal my contempt for the others. I spent my time radicalizing the populace against their leaders. They called me Betrayer, Fen’Harel, and still I openly worked against them. As I mentioned before, eventually Mythal was no longer able to protect me, and Elgar’nan tossed me into the Abyss.”
“How did he know you would survive?”
Arel answered that. “He didn’t,” they said flatly. “No one ever had before. And I haven’t seen Mythal speak directly to her husband since.”
Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Twelve- And I’ll Be Fine
AO3 in reblogs.
Jimmy lands in the snow on shaking legs, Scott’s cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders. The wicker basket he carefully carried to the elven kingdom remains hidden underneath the cloak, and Jimmy makes his way to the palace that Scott calls home. It’s too large to be a house, but Jimmy won’t refer to it as a palace.
He’s not sure what it is.
The path winds up to the front door, where two guards stand. They lean against the wall, calmly talking to an elf who remains inside. Jimmy steps onto the veranda, unsure as to what he should say. Luckily for him, the two guards open the doors, bowing to him.
“You’re welcome inside, Codfather.” The elf inside says, and the pair of guards nod, smiling softly. She brushes her lavender hair behind her ear, opening the door. “I’m Arel, one of King Scott’s staff.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Jimmy says, following her into the house. “You can call me Jimmy.”
“Thank you, Lord Jimmy.” She walks him into the back parlor, putting some logs onto the fire. “Lord Scott is training right now, but I’ll go fetch him for you. Cyran will come with some tea until he arrives.”
And with a bow, the elf exits the parlor.
Jimmy sits on a plush seat by the fire, wrapping the cloak around his shoulders as the room warms up. When the room is appropriately warm - or at least, warm of the alps of Rivendell - Jimmy surveys the room. The statue of Aeor glistens in the firelight, and the orchid that Jimmy delivered to Scott grows under a warm light, in a terrarium that looks newer, out of place in the fancy decor of Scott’s house.
He kept the orchid. He kept it in a place where he hosts guests, in a place where people can see it.
Jimmy’s heart beats faster, skipping beats as he looks away. He can’t blush, can’t let his heart escape through his throat. Scott’s a lovely man, and deep in his heart he knows he feels safe around him, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to be Aeor’s champions soulmate, and he won’t risk Scott’s life by trying to stop being a strangers soulmate.
Going against the gods could end up with Scott hurt.
“Lord Codfather.” A person says, entering the room. They have pastel pink hair, tied into a neat bun, and dark skin. They set down a tray with tea cups on it, before brushing their hands on their black dress and adjusting their white blazer. “I’m Cyran, the eldest member of Lord Scott’s staff. Arel told me that you were waiting for Lord Scott?”
“I’d like to formally sign an alliance deal with Scott.” Jimmy says, standing up. Does he shake their hand? It would be appropriate, right?
“I’m sure that Arel is fetching him now.” Cyran smiles at Jimmy, motioning for him to sit back down. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, why do you ask?”
“The whole continent saw the atrocity that occured two days ago, Lord Codfather.” Cyran says, taking a sip of tea. “We’re all surprised that you would have even left your home, let alone your empire.”
“I just want to show everyone that I’m stronger than what they made of me.” Jimmy says. “My empire is still young, it’s not hit a decade yet. We need strong allies, like Rivendell.”
“Strong relationships brew strong empires. King Scott knows this well, after we lost young Lord Conal-” Cyran smiles as the door opens, Arel bowing as they walk in.
“Lord Codfather, King Scott is here to see you.” Arel says, and Scott walks into the room.
Scott wears a grey halter top, tied in a neat bow behind his neck. His pants are loose, black, comfortable. Scott flushes as he nods to Jimmy, and Jimmy’s heart skips a beat. Scott is muscular, toned but soft. He must be freezing in that outfit, but with how damp the shirt is, and how his body glistens, Jimmy feels as though he isn’t cold.
“Apologies, Codfather.” Scott says, watching as Arel and Cyran leave the room. “I was training with the guards and lost track of time.”
“It’s fine.” Jimmy says. “Not your fault.”
“So,” Scott sits down, pushing his hair from his eyes. “An alliance?”
“I have presents to sway you?” Jimmy says softly. He unclaps the cloak, revealing the wicker basket. “I’d like to keep the basket, but I have some things for you.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” Scott says, as soft as the breeze on a warm spring day.
“I wanted to.” Jimmy smiles, opening the basket. He pulls out a small jar, in which a baby slime bounces in. “They don’t need feeding unless you want to make them grow, and can live in there happily for centuries.”
“Are they named?” Scott asks, gently taking the jar from him.
“You should name them yourself.” Jimmy says. “I have another present for you.”
“I’m not sure anything could top this little man.” Scott says, smiling as he looks into the slime’s enclosure.
“The Pufferfish of Peace.” Jimmy smiles. “It just felt right.”
Jimmy hands Scott the bucket, and Scott frowns for a moment, reading over the nametag. He takes a deep breath in, looking to the side for a long moment, and Jimmy’s heart drops.
“Jimmy, this says Puffierish. Pufferish of peace.”
“Not again!” Jimmy cries, burying his mask into his hands. “I’m going to leave now. No more alliances. I will simply die if I leave my house again.”
“Well that's dramatic.” Scott says. “Where do I sign to say that we’re alliances?”
Jimmy hands him the paperwork from the bottom of his basket, and Scott asks Aren to fetch the paperwork from his office. Arel returns with a wink as she hands over the paperwork and an envelope, ignoring the glare that she receives from her king. Jimmy signs the paper, letting the ink dry as he finishes his tea.
“I also have a gift for you.” Scott says quietly. “If you’re comfortable with it.”
“I love gifts.” Jimmy smiles, and Scott gently passes Jimmy the envelope that Arel gave him. Jimmy runs his hands over the paper - it’s good quality, though machine made. Not the handmade paper more common of the Cod Empire, but nice enough anyways.
Jimmy carefully - oh so carefully - opens the envelope. His tongue sticks out as he makes sure not to tear the envelope, before the last millimeter comes free. Jimmy gently puts his fingers into it, pulling out a golden necklace. Two golden stag antlers, simple in design, connect to a golden chain. The god of protection. Aeor.
“Aeor?” Jimmy asks softly.
“Giving a statue is supposed to be a gift for family.” Scott says, blushing. “Like a wedding gift or a moving out gift. This is more relaxed. A gift for a friend.”
“Could you help me put it on?” Jimmy asks, turning from Scott and exposing his neck. His heart begins to beat faster, faster than it would normally. Scott is honourable. Scott wouldn’t hurt him. Would he?
Gentle hands take the ends of the necklace from him, wrapping it around Jimmy’s neck. He needs to get his heart in check, it’s hammering could be heard in Pixandria for how fast it’s going. Scott wont hurt him. They just signed an alliance.
He thought Fwhip wouldn’t hurt him.
He’s not there. This is real. He’s not there he won’t be hurt scott cares about him scott is his friend he wont kill him he wont-
“There. All done.” Scott says, stepping back from behind him. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” Jimmy lies. The necklace is warm around his neck, and glitters with a healing enchantment Jimmy hadn’t noticed yet. “Thank you.”
“You should keep the cloak as well.” Scott says, offering Jimmy his hand. “Just until you have a cloak of your own for here.”
“Aren’t you cold?”
“I’m an ice elf. I wear the cloak so the children know to wear theirs, but I don’t need it.” Scott laughs. “Keep the cloak. I’ll be fine.”
“Thank you.” Jimmy takes his hand, letting Scott escort him to the door.
“How are you travelling home?”
“Through the nether. I need some netherite, our supplies aren’t doing too well.” Jimmy admits.
“Take care, may Aeor guide you.”
“I will. Stay safe yourself.” Jimmy says, waving as he exits Scott’s home.
Scott waves for a moment before heading indoors, and Jimmy smiles to himself as walks down the cliffs to Scott’s nether portal. The red leaks into the cliff face, corruption spreading throughout the mountain, but Jimmy takes a deep breath in.
He’s safe. No one would attack him on neutral grounds. He needs netherite.
Ignoring the whispers and hushed prayers that townsfolk mumble in his favour, Jimmy takes off Scott’s cloak, carefully putting it in the wicker basket before he puts the basket into his enderchest. His father would kill him if he lost that basket, coming back from the grave to murder him in cold blood.
Jimmy picks a direction and takes off, watching carefully for ghasts as he flies through the fire filled hellscape that adorns the foriegn dimension. It’s unpleasantly hot, and though Jimmy’s empire is hot, the humidity makes it lack the sting of a dry heat, even though it always feels warmer than it actually is.
Jimmy is literally a fish out of water.
Jimmy takes out his pickaxe and starts to swing, chipping awake at the netherack, going deeper, deeper into the ground. Lava pops and bubbles above him and to his sides, and the bottoms of his shoes begin to singe. He’s safe as he can be here, if under prepared for mining.
“Underprepared for everything.” A deep, warped and raspy voice echoes in his mind, freezing him to the spot. “You can’t fight, can’t respect other empires' customs. You can’t even mine netherite successfully.”
“Leave me alone.” Jimmy mumbles, picking up his axe again.
“Why should I?” The demon appears in the corner of his eyes, disappearing when he turns to look at them. “You’re fun to watch.”
“I’m not an actor, go find a play to watch.” Jimmy grumbles, flinching at the laugh that echoes in his head.
“I can’t tell if you’re mad at me, or just annoyed.” The demon appears in front of Jimmy, leaning against the wall. “You were so much more expressive without the cod head.”
“I’m not taking the cod head off.” Jimmy crosses his arms, glaring at the demon.
“Pity.” Xornoth says, smirking at Jimmy. “You didn’t look half bad under there.”
“What?” Jimmy’s voice is small, embarrassed and confused. Xornoth doesn’t laugh at him, doesn’t even take back the statement. “I was covered in bruises - Aren’t you dating Joey?”
“I am.” Xornoth says. “Acknowledging the truth isn’t cheating, Codfather.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Your loyalty.” Xornoth steps towards Jimmy, who steps back in return. “Do you really want your fate sealed like that?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You can’t ignore what the gods have forced you to be. Aeor is cruel, a god who forces you to become his pawn.” Xornoth steps towards the king. “You deserve freedom. That’s what I’m fighting for, not for control. For freedom.”
“You’re corrupting our world. You destroyed another realm.” Jimmy tries to pull away from Xornoth, to escape.
“I know you’re scared.”
“Of you.”
“Of your soulmate.” Xornoth says. “You’re scared of what he’ll do to you. Of who he could be.” Jimmy’s back hits the hot netherack, and his heart runs in his neck.
“Stay away from me.”
“Do you know what you’ve been forced to become?” Xornoth asks. “Exor told me, you’re kidnapped. Again and again. Until the champion kills you.”
“I’ll respawn.”
“Not from that.” Xornoth says. “Not when you don’t want to.”
“Why can’t you just leave me alone then?”
“I can’t control my followers.” Xornoth swears. “I don’t want to harm you. You’re innocent, you deserve freedom.”
“You’re destroying my empire - and my friends.” Jimmy presses himself closer to the netherrack, feeling the beginning of a burn blister on his back. “And if I join you, won’t your followers just attack me anyway.”
“Not when you're one of them.” Xornoth grabs Jimmy by the arms. “You’re better than what they’ll make you.”
“I can’t do that to people.”
“You can.”
“I can’t do that, you don’t understand!” Jimmy shakes his head, screwing up his eyes and praying to uncaring, unloving gods that the demon will leave.
“You’re right.” They laugh. “I don’t understand. Have fun being a puppet, but don’t come crying to me when you want your strings cut.” Xornoth holds Jimmy’s hand up, and kisses the back of it before turning away from him.
“I’ll be back for you, Codfather.” The demon promises, vanishing into the red mist.
Jimmy’s knees give out, tears evaporating before they can trail down his cheeks. A scream chokes him on the ground, either in fear or pain. His back blisters and stabs at him, and his knees scream in agony as the hostile rock forces them through the same torture his back just escaped from.
Jimmy forces himself onto shaking legs, taking a deep breath in. He’s braver than this. He’s better than this. He may cower but he is no coward. He won’t be a puppet on anyone’s strings. He’ll remove the glove and wash it, and then everything will be back to normal again. Jimmy looks at his ungloved hand, and his heart stops. Horror strangles his lungs, blooming in his heart and stomach as he struggles to keep down the food he’s eaten.
A pair of staghorns, bleeding red and painted black, is branded into his hand.
Jimmy slams on his glove and flees. No one can know. No one can ever know. He’ll be killed by all sides.
