for your requests… fwhimmy (fwhip/jimmy) with them dancing together in the codlands? i like to think fwhip doesn’t know how to dance very well but up to you!
Fwhimmy is by far one of my favorite rare pairs!! I think it’s absolutely in character for Fwhip to not know how to dance, so that’s exactly what you’ll get anon!
Tws: none! Just fluff!
Two Left Feet (and a fish tail)
Fwhip could honestly say he’s had a good day. He and Jimmy spent the afternoon cooking and then eating said food outside by the ocean. They watched the sun set over Lizzie’s empire then gazed at the stars as the moon shone above them.
So, yeah. It was a great day.
But, of course, it couldn’t last forever. Jimmy sat up from where they had both been laying down on some grass and looked at him, smiling.
“Do you want to dance with me?” he asked.
Fwhip tensed. Sweet salmon, he really wanted to. He wanted to twirl Jimmy around under the light of the moon and enjoy the way his face would shine in the low lighting. He wanted to throw Jimmy into the air and catch him gently. He wanted to dip him low enough to kiss him.
But he couldn’t. Because Fwhip couldn’t dance.
Yet, his mouth ran before his brain could stop it. “I’d love to,” he replied, also sitting up with a wide grin.
Jimmy rushed away to his house without another word, running to his house and coming back out with a jukebox and a disc. The color of it wasn’t yellow, and it looked fairly new, so Fwhip had hope for this song.
“What song is it?” he asked as Jimmy set up.
The cod smiled. “It’s Mellohi,” he said. “Some creeper was terrorizing me and I saw a skeleton, so I took a chance. I got this out of it!” He flaunted the disc before putting it in.
The sweet music filtered through the clearing. Fwhip stood up, brushing dust off himself as Jimmy outstretched his hand to him. He smiled and took it. Jimmy pulled him closer and he paused. The cod was beginning to sway to the song, but Fwhip just stood there, holding onto his hand.
Jimmy took notice. “What’s wrong?” He stopped and Fwhip felt bad.
“I… I can’t dance,” he mumbled, face turning the color of his scarf.
He giggled and Fwhip’s heart fluttered at the sound. “We’re you never taught?”
“No!” Fwhip exclaimed, a little heated. “I just… skipped the classes. I left Gem to do all the ‘fancy’ stuff.”
Jimmy hummed and grabbed his other hand. “Then I’ll just have to teach you,” he said, looking down at their hands. “Follow my movements.”
Jimmy took a step back, and Fwhip mirrored it was a step forwards. The cod put Fwhip’s hand on his hip and put his on his shoulder. “Now match my steps,” he said.
Fwhip did. He stumbled around, occasionally stepping on Jimmy’s foot. After many retries, and many bruised toes, they had settled into a good rhythm. The disc had long since turned off, but they had their own tune to dance to.
The Count smiled softly, watching their feet step around each other. “This is nice,” he commented. “Today was nice. I never thought I’d be dancing in the moonlight, but I like it.”
Jimmy matched his smile, but wider. “It’s nice! Just us, the moon, and the sounds of the water.”
Eventually, they slowed to a stop. They didn’t let each other’s hands go, but they stood together under the soft glow of the moon staring into each other’s eyes. Jimmy snorted.
“We should probably go home, yeah?” he asked quietly.
Fwhip reluctantly nodded. He swallowed and licked his lips. “Yeah… Yeah we probably should.”
Jimmy let his hands fall out of his. Fwhip only mourned their loss for a moment before Jimmy pressed a quick, small, kiss to his lips. Fwhip chased him as he pulled back and felt his face go up in flames.
“See ya around, Fwhip,” he whispered before walking away.
Fwhip dumbly waved goodbye as Jimmy jumped into the ocean. Fwhip will never forgot how beautiful that moment was; Jimmy covered in water as he swam away, waving goodbye as well, lit up by the white light of the moon and clothes stuck to his chest tight. It made his breath hitch.
“Goodbye,” he whispered to the wind, once Jimmy was deep enough to dive below. It took him a moment to regain control of his body, but once he did he flew off towards the Crystal Cliffs, desperate to rant about this to Gem.
I’ve been brainrotting and now have some evil fWhip angst because someone had to do it. Might make a part two if I'm feeling skrunkly enough. I'll link it here if I finish it.
Tw: possession, angst, body horror, mild to moderate violence, derealization
fWhip was digging through his chests when it happened the first time. He was shuffling around, looking for his lasts bits of deepslate for a building in the Grimlands. But so far all he had was less than half a shulker box full.
He grumbled, his body halfway into the chest in the storage room as he desperately rummaged around for the block. He huffed as he realized he might have to go mining for it.
He began to pull himself away from all of the contents in the chest when something red and glowing caught his eye. Thinking it might be some deepslate redstone, he reached out and grabbed it.
It wasn't.
It was a red vine of Xornoth.
The thing instantly began writhing in his fingers, though he was no bigger than his palm.
Immediately, fWhip tried to throw the thing across his room, but not before it had wrapped around two of his fingers. He shook his hand in a frantic motion, hoping, praying that the thing would release his hand.
This couldn't be happening. This wasn't real. Please, Aeor, don't let this be real. The thing intertwining with his fingers began to squeeze, to pinch, to tighten. fWhip frantically tried shaking the thing off, pawing at it, anything, anything to get it off. The vine was nearly half way up his forearm now, sprouting and growing and squeezing. fWhip could hear his own breathing increase in speed, even as the thing seemed to have a mind of it's own.
Gem, he thought, she can help. Please, let her be able to help. As fast as he could, he began running, sprinting out of his storage hall. To his twin. To anyone who could stop this thing from growing.
It was under his skin now. It was seething. It was in his veins. It was his veins. He was almost cradling his right arm now. It seemed to be on fire, the red flames of pain spiking, slithering all the way up his arm. It was to his shoulder even as he shot off the ground as soon as there was an empty spot in the sky for him.
It was under his skin. It was crawling up his jaw. The corruption reached a cut under his eye he hadn't noticed was there. And it burned.
Please, whatever gods may be out there, fWhip prayed, make it stop.
The sky was blurring with red, tilting like a corrupted scale. The tinkerer could feel his body tipping as he flew over his starter base. Despratley, he spammed rockets like no other, but to no avail.
“No, no, no no no no,” fWhip hissed, desperate, the sound of his own corrupted heartbeat in his ears. This wasn't real. Xornoth was tricking him. Nothing was wrong. But everything was wrong. All of it was. He could taste the vines in his mouth. This wasn't right. It was wrong. It was bad. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. By Aeor’s name it hurt.
fWhip hadn't realized how close he was to the ground he was until he crashed into the snow of the mountain range.
Rocks, tree roots, snow, branches, vines were everywhere. The stone grated against his back, the snow doing nothing to smooth any of the pain down. Suddenly he was coughing, hacking, desperate for this thing to get out of him.
The world was shifting, he felt dizzy, the ground was swaying this way and that, even as he pushed himself onto his stomach, using an arm to hold him up as he spat into the snow.
“Get it out of me, please, please just get it out,” it was a whispered prayer that none would hear. The corruption was everywhere now, even crawling down upon his self-made wings. The world was red but white, corrupted yet grounded, hot but freezing. He was stuck between two worlds--that of Xornoth and his. Or was it some other force? Some sort of other entity?
It didn't matter to fWhip.
Suddenly, there was a figure with him in the snow. An unfamiliar one, but somehow he knew exactly what it was. He could barely look up at the demon as he continued to hack and spit red into the snow. It was all red. Red vines, red demons.
Red blood.
“What do you want from me?” fWhip spat, trying desperately in between breaths to shuffle away. It didn't work. He could only see the clawed feet of the creature as it creeped ever closer. Only right in front of the cursed tinkerer did it stop.
It crouched down, the red hand reaching out to grab the man’s chin, forcing him to look at the demon.
“Its not what you have, you have to understand, dear Count,” the thing said, “its what you can get me.”
fWhip felt his stomach drop, like a fist of iron had grabbed it and tugged it down. The demon smiled with sharp teeth, and swung itself into his body, the tinkerer flown out to other way. Where his eyes once were were now red, and he could feel his spirit bonded with the demon’s. They shared a body, but like an older sibiling taunting the younger by holding an item out of their reach, fWhip tried and tried again to regain his body but to no avail.
There was nothing he could do as Xornoth hunted for his brother.
a gift for you, empiresblr, courtesy of my now 5 hours of fWhip headcanons. feel free to kill me when you're done. (also sorry i don't yet have an AO3 i can link to, i've been on the wait list foreeevvveerrr).
CW for slight body horror, angst, and i guess suffocation kind of?
“fWhip? Hello? Are you in here?”
He heard the call--how could he not have, when the voice was hers? Still, he did not move, remaining where he slumped against the wall of the underground room. One of the redstone crystals blooming from the stone was jammed against his shoulder blade, but even the pain could not entice him to rise.
“fWhip, come out!” Gem’s voice was a mixture of frustration and concern, a tone he rarely heard from her--well, the frustration he had heard before, but the worry was new. Gem almost never fretted about anything; it was how she had kept him and Sausage so well in line up until now.
“I’m going to come down there!” The threat echoed down the passageway that separated the secret room from the unassuming shopfront above it. “I know where your lair is, it isn’t a secret! Don’t make me come down there!”
“Don’t,” fWhip rasped. “Please.”
Gem either couldn’t or didn’t hear him. “I’m giving you one minute, and then I’m coming down there whether you like it or not!”
“Please,” he tried again, but his voice would not obey him. It petered out almost as soon as it passed his lips. He licked them, swallowed, coughed, tried a third time. “Gem, please, go away.”
This time, it seemed, she did hear, for she answered, “I will not go away! Nobody’s seen you in two weeks, fWhip! We’re worried sick!”
“I’m fine,” he croaked--a lie.
“You don’t sound fine,” she retorted. “I’m coming down.”
He opened his mouth to warn her off again, but the tell-tale sound of the painting door sliding back masked whatever he might have tried to say. Seconds later, her footsteps started up, the familiar click of those heeled purple boots getting ever louder as she marched along the passageway toward his laboratory.
fWhip’s gaze darted around in a panic, searching out anyplace that would be suitable to hide. He hadn’t moved from his current spot in over twelve hours, and his limbs protested as he shoved himself violently to his feet, teetering off-balance from the unfamiliar motion. Finally, he settled on a small cranny near the back of the chamber, and limped over to it, cramming himself inside just as Gem’s footfalls indicated that she had reached the door to the lab itself. He heard her swing it open, and then her voice, much clearer now, softly called, “fWhip? Where are you?”
“Go away,” he replied, hating the stony rasp that he couldn’t seem to get rid of now. “Don’t want to see you.”
“Well, that’s just rude,” she replied. He could imagine the look on her face, and fought against the lump it brought to his throat. He wanted to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness, to throw himself into her arms.
“Didn’t ask you to come,” he croaked instead.
“No, actually, Jimmy did,” Gem replied waspishly. “Your enemy. You remember him? The one you stole his most precious possession from? He sent me a message three days ago to tell me he hadn’t seen or heard from you in over a week. Mind you, this was after I’d been questioned by Sausage, Pearl, and Shrub as to why you’ve missed the last two alliance meetings. fWhip, even your enemies are worried about you. Where have you been?”
Oh, if only you knew. His mouth twisted with a hateful, bitter little smile. “Busy.”
Gem audibly scoffed. “Right.”
“Leave, Gem.” The order tasted strange in his mouth, when he desperately wanted her to stay.
“Not until I see you.” He heard her start moving around the room, picking things up and nudging them with her feet, rearranging boxes and sliding barrels aside as she searched.
“Leave.” The cranny was small, but he squashed himself further inside anyway, stone scraping against all the places where his skin was exposed.
“Are you back there?” His stomach squeezed with terror as he heard her move toward him, squeezing between two of the suspension tubes where he had once stored specimens he was researching. “I can’t see you.”
“Please, leave, please.” If he couldn’t order her, he could at least beg her. “Gem, please, if you care about me at all, go away.”
“fWhip, I do care about you,” she said gently. “That’s why I’m here in the first place. Please come out. I just want to know you’re safe.”
He could feel his heart ripping itself in half--desperation to hide warring violently with the desire to finally be seen, even if it would cost him everything. It felt like it might burn a hole in his chest, and his hands tightened reflexively into fists as he battled himself for what seemed an eternity.
“Please, little brother,” Gem whispered.
It was as if she had caved his chest in. A sob dragged itself from his throat before he could stop it, but he finally let himself unfurl from the cranny to drape limply across the floor, gazing up at his sister’s blue-violet eyes as they widened in shock, which turned to horror, which turned to sorrow.
“Oh, fWhip…” Gem reached out a hand toward him, but hesitated, drawing her fingers back before she could reach him. “What happened?”
“You really want to know?” He had to shove back another sob with a monumental effort, watching the way her fingers trembled as she gazed at him. “Or do you want to leave, like I told you to before?”
“No, I would never,” she gasped. “Not now. Not like this.” She sat down on the floor, her violet cloak flowing behind her like a pool of silky water, and slid closer to him, although not quite close enough for their hands to touch. “Tell me what happened.”
He let his eyes drift away from hers, toward the ceiling and the red crystals dripping from its shadowy recesses. “Well, it began two weeks ago.”
Two weeks earlier…
fWhip was not a stranger to surprises, but he liked receiving them far less than he liked planning them.
It had been a long elytra flight from the undisclosed location of the Wither Rose headquarters back to his home in the Grimlands, and the multiple hours in the air were wearing on his body--even though he had been wearing his scarlet goggles for the duration, his eyeballs still ached as if the wind had been hammering them, as did his shoulder blades from the yank and drift of the elytra against his own muscles.
“Maybe next time I take a horse,” he muttered to himself as he angled in for the landing. The deepslate roofs of the Grimlands were beginning to glide by beneath him now, and he made for the circular patch of dirt at the back of the manor that was his customary landing site, his eyes trained on it until something else caught his attention.
“I am positive that was not there before…” One hand came up to tap his chin as his gaze caught on the massive outcrop of deepslate that had bloomed at the front corner of the manor gardens, studded with glinting redstone crystals. A darker shadow within the ring-shaped formation suggested there might possibly be a hole there, though how deep was indiscernible from this far above.
“If somebody has been trying to steal from me again--wait.” fWhip narrowed his eyes at the spot, investigating it more closely now, for it seemed more familiar the closer he drew. He could vaguely recall setting a circle of rocks within the closed hedges, and in their center, a red container, filled with--
“Damn! Xornoth again!” His breath huffed out harshly as he realized what had happened. First the explosion, and now this…
Veering off-course from his typical spot, he carefully glided down until he was low enough to snap the elytra closed and drop gracefully to the ground between the wide hedge rows. From down here, the deepslate ring seemed much larger than it had from the air, its jagged edges stabbing into the blue sky. He could tell now that there was, indeed, a hole at the center, exactly where he had placed the shulker-box filled with Xornoth’s corruption.
“Damn,” he whispered again. He edged closer, peering carefully at the hole as he neared in an attempt to see what might be at the bottom. It appeared to be deeper than he was tall, however, and he was forced to maneuver up to the very lip of the hole to get a good look at the bottom. Thankfully, there did seem to be a bottom, lurking maybe ten feet below the surface; the depths of the hole were quite dark, though, only dimly illuminated by patches of glimmering red crystals, and he was unable to determine much more than that.
fWhip wondered, briefly, if he ought to just ignore the hole. Common sense would seem to suggest that it was involved with Xornoth in some way, and therefore worthy of at least being avoided for the time being until he could request the help of his allies. fWhip, however, whether fortunately or not, had always been availed of a strong sense of curiosity--it was how he had developed so many of his gadgets and tools. Besides that, there was something about the depths of the small hole that seemed to call to him, and him specifically.
He glanced around, taking stock of who might be nearby in case he needed to call for help, and saw no one in the immediate vicinity. There was a groundskeeper’s cottage just on the other side of the hedge row, but he had no way of knowing whether anyone might be inside.
“Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take a chance,” he murmured. “Here goes.”
Gingerly, he sat down at the edge of the hole, dangling his legs off the side and exploring for possible footholds. It took him a minute, but his toes finally caught on a ledge, and he was able to hoist himself down and into the vertical shaft. Thankfully, the same jagged-edged property of deepslate that made it look menacing also made it excellent for climbing, and he had relatively little difficulty lowering himself the full ten or eleven feet to the bottom, where his feet landed on solid stone. Looking up, he was surprised how dim the sky seemed to be after such a short descent.
Now what? he thought to himself as he gazed around at the narrow walls on all sides. Surely I didn’t make an ass of myself climbing down here for no reason.
He had but a few seconds to wonder, as a strange hiss caught his attention, echoing from the rock walls. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from, but the small hole began rapidly to fill with a reddish mist, which, when he inhaled it, made the inside of his nose and throat burn as if he had inhaled fire. He coughed, accidentally inhaled again, and coughed more violently, and still the stuff spewed into the cavern, and he began to wonder whether this was a trap, and whether he had been an idiot for climbing down here, and whether his allies--his friends, his sister--would find his corpse rotting down here. His hands scrabbled for handholds to lever himself back up, but the mist had filled his eyes now, and it stung, forcing him blindly to his knees. He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, could barely think. Lights danced behind his eyelids, and his throat was a tunnel of fire, and then he was unconscious, and knew no more.
Present day…
“And the next thing I knew, I woke up. And...this.” fWhip gestured down to himself, unable to keep his mouth from curling like he had tasted something sour. “Or, well, part of it.”
“Part of it?” Gem cocked her head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it was just the wings at first.” He tugged at the grey-black appendages, hating that he could feel it when his fingers brushed the leathery flesh. “And to be honest, I thought they were awesome. Who hasn’t dreamed of having wings? Sure, they looked a little gargoyle-ish, but it seemed like a small price to pay for not having to use elytra anymore. And it felt like the redstone magic was helping me, maybe giving me a gift to fight against Xornoth. I thought it might be something good.”
“And then…” Gem prompted when he trailed off.
“And then...the rest started,” he whispered. “I tried to ignore it at first. I thought maybe I was hallucinating, or getting sick, because it started with just my eyes, and I felt like maybe it would go away if I just, I don’t know, pretended not to notice. But then it was my skin, and then my hands, and then...and then my face.” He turned away from her as a visible shudder made its way through him. “I look disgusting.”
“Why didn’t you call us for help?” Gem murmured.
“Because it was my fault it happened!” he growled, shaking his head. “Because I was an idiot and went down that hole and breathed in that gas, and now I’m a monster, and I have no one to blame but myself. Because I couldn’t wait for you.”
“fWhip, no!” He could see the glimmer of moisture in her eyes, and he hated himself even more for it, for making her upset. “It isn’t your fault. You didn’t know what would happen, and you’ve always been an investigator. And now you’ve had to suffer alone, and I had no idea, and…” Her voice caught. “I was so worried. I thought maybe the demon…and especially after those dreams...”
He swallowed. “I...I’m sorry. I just...I didn’t know how to face everyone like this.”
They sat in silence for a long moment, simply listening to their own breaths. Finally, Gem said, “It doesn’t look that bad, you know.”
fWhip eyed her dubiously. “Gem, I look like a gargoyle. Like some kind of…” The word demon couldn’t force itself out, but he could see she understood, for she vigorously shook her head.
“No, you don’t look anything like that,” she said. After a long pause, she quietly added, “You look like my little brother.”
He tried, but couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down his cheeks. “Thanks,” he whispered.
She reached over and finally took his hand, and he almost shouted with joy at the touch of another person; her skin was warm and soft, her delicate tiny fingers gentle as they closed around his rough, clawed ones.
“We’ll figure this out,” she promised. “Together.”
rarepairs…. maybe fwhimmy angst with a happy ending about the aftermath of empires…… i haven’t stopped thinking about them
More fwhimmy!! Love these guys! Comin’ right up! To do what I had in mind, I completely threw out the canon endings for this, I hope it came out okay! (Their relationship is pre-established in this one)
Tws: mentions and implied dead fish, mentions of death, crying, screaming, self blame, running away, (let me know if I missed one!)
Through It All, I Still Have You (so don’t leave me)
Jimmy was crying. The other rulers watched as he blabbered something about an explosion and the Codfather head and Fwhip. They also caught the words ‘salmon’ and ‘cod’, but other than that it was just stutters.
“H-he’s dead!” he wailed.
Now that got their attention. Several people started talking at once, but it all went right over Jimmy’s head, and he just kept crying. Scott came over and patted his back.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy,” he muttered. “I know how much he meant to you.”
Then, rusting came from his right. They all turned to see Gem leading Fwhip through the forest. The Count had seen better days, that’s for sure. His clothes were torn, his goggles were cracked, and he had a terrible limp and was using his sword as a substitute cane.
“Fwhip!” Jimmy and Sausage cried at the same time.
The cod beat the Mythlander to him, though, and practically tackled him to the ground. Jimmy kissed him all over his face, half laughing half sobbing.
“I thought you were dead!” Jimmy exclaimed.
Fwhip laughed. “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me, Jim.”
Sausage joined the pile, smiling wide as if he also hadn’t just been crying. “I knew Jimmy was lying! There’s no way you would’ve just been dead like that!”
Joey was the one to kill the good mood. “Yeah yeah, this is really sweet and all, but what about my kingdom?! It’s still gone!”
“Wait,” Scott said, drawing all the attention to himself. “If Joey’s empire is gone from the explosion… what about the rest of us…?”
There was a moment of silence before all hell broke loose. Scott excused himself and flew off before everyone else did the same. Then, it was just Jimmy, Fwhip, and Gem.
Fwhip pushed her away. “Go check on your kingdom,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”
She hesitated. “Are you sure? What if your get even more hurt?”
He smiled and pushed her again. “Jimmy’ll help me, don’t worry. Go make sure it’s all okay.”
“If you’re sure,” she sighed. Then, she spread her wings and flew off, heading to the Crystal Cliffs.
Jimmy was fidgeting nervously. “C-can we go check on my kingdom?” he asked quietly.
Fwhip nodded. “Of course! Lead the way, Jimmy!”
They marched through the forest, not flying only because Fwhip couldn’t. It took a minute, but the swamp soon came into view. But it felt wrong. As they got closer, Jimmy found out why.
All the water was gone. No puddles, no mud patches, no ocean. It was as dry as Pixandrea.
Fwhip’s jaw dropped as Jimmy clenched his to hold back tears. The smell of dead fish tainted the air and made his eyes water. All his smile puddles were empty, and the cod that once lived there were suffocated. The Great Wall of Cod had shattered and the fish were gone, along with the water.
“No.” His voice was so quiet, Fwhip almost didn’t hear it. His boyfriend rubbed his back, looking around the area with a haunted look.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry.”
The cod fell to his knees, voice caught in his throat. He wanted to let him know it wasn’t his fault, that if anything it was his own stupid desires to blame, but he couldn’t even make a sound.
“It’s gone. It’s all gone…” His voice was shaky and choked once he found it. “Everything…”
Then, after a beat of silence, he doubled over and screamed. He screamed and screamed until his throat was raw and then screamed some more. He screamed as Fwhip held him, he screamed as Joel came flying in looking panicked, he screamed as was hauled into his house where Norman was quick to comfort him.
Fwhip held him through it all. He never let him go, wether he held his hand, kissed him, or just had his arms wrapped around him. Joel left after a while, muttering something about Lizzie and taking off, so it was just them and the cat.
There was a moment of mildly uncomfortable silence before Fwhip broke it. “I know you’ll tell me to never blame myself… but I will. Because it was my love for you that caused this. Seeing you so upset over the Codfather Head made me act on impulse and I didn’t think it through. Now everything you love and everyone else loves is gone, including whole kingdoms. I’m sorry, Jimmy. I’m sorry a thousand times over and then some. If you want to leave me… I’d understand.
A large smack echoed through the room. Fwhip rubbed the back of his head and looked at Jimmy, who was sitting there with tears in his eyes and a trembling lip. “Don’t you dare talk like that,” he rasped, voice still raw and scratchy. “I love you so much, and this was not your fault in the slightest. I’ll love you forever and I want you at my side always. If you leave me… I don’t know what I’ll do.”
The unspoken “too” hung heavy between them. Don’t leave me too, I love you too, and I blame me too, all went unspoken, but they were there. Fwhip felt his own eyes water as he launched himself at the cod.
“I’m sorry, Jimmy,” he gasped, voice shaky with emotion. “Please don’t leave me.”
Jimmy hugged back. “I won’t. Not in a thousand years. I’ll love you to the bottom of the ocean and then back.”
They stayed together, locked in each others’ arms until the sun set. Norman eventually left, but they still didn’t move. They cried and whispered sweet nothing in attempt to comfort each other. The sun was gone, replaced by the moon, and then they finally pulled away from each other.
Only to connect again through their lips. Fwhip put his hands on Jimmy’s cheeks and kissed him with all the passion he could muster, the other returning the gesture. Being a cod hybrid, Jimmy could hold his breath for hours, but Fwhip could not. But they threw that to the wind, only carrying about the other right now. Fwhip felt like he was drowning in Jimmy’s love. He couldn’t breathe, but he loved it. Their lips were locked and so were their souls.
But they did have to eventually part, to both their dismays. Fwhip was left gasping for air when he pulled away, but he wasn’t going to complain. Jimmy just looked flushed and it made something in Fwhip’s chest flutter.
“Let’s run away together,” Jimmy blurted. But the words were out, so he kept going. “You and me. We’ll find a new place to live, build a new kingdom if it comes to that—maybe even join someone else’s? Years down the line, we’ll go looking for all our friends, but for now just run away with me.”
Fwhip looked int Jimmy’s eyes, counting every sparkle and twinkle in them. He found himself loving the idea, of just the two of them living together in the woods with nothing but a crop field and a cottage.
It’s been a long while since I posted. And I wrote this while waiting for my Tylenol to kick my headache to the curb so… here? Writing? Yeah…? It’s ~400 words of Fwhip and Sausage making out so… yeah. Maybe I’ll put it on AO3 tomorrow. Maybe not… oh well
TWs: uhhh nothing except some heavy making out (but tell me if I missed one)
Sausage pulled Fwhip close, gripping the front of his robe like a lifeline. They stared into each other’s eyes, eac searching for something. Sausage’s eyes flicked down to his lips and then back to his eyes.
Fwhip caught the glance and nodded once. “Do it.”
And so he did. Sausage pulled him just a bit closer and closed the gap, kissing him. Fwhip immediately kissed back, reaching a hand into his hair and humming. Sausage melted at the touch.
Sausage used one of his hands to tilt Fwhip’s chin up so he could deepen the kiss. He made a happy noise, and Sausage swallowed it down. His other hand snuck its way between them, pushing on Fwhip’s chest.
Fwhip let him push him against the wall, breaking the kiss with a gasp as Sausage pushed a bit too hard. The other smiled apologetically at him.
“Sorry,” he said with a slight giggle. “Got a bit carried away.”
“You’re good,” Fwhip told him, laughing as well. “You could make it up to me, though?”
Sausage raised an eyebrow. A smirk was tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh? And what do you have in mind?”
Fwhip leaned forwards. “You could keep kissing me like that.” His voice was low, and he saw in Sausage’s eyes the moment he was in trouble.
“It would be my pleasure.”
Then he was kissing him again. Fwhip felt his knees go weak, grateful for the wall behind him. Sausage bit his lip and he gasped. Sausage pushed his tongue in his mouth, taking his time exploring.
Fwhip was shaking, grabbing at Sausage‘s shoulders so he could stay standing. Sausage licked at his teeth and he whined. A hand found its way into his hair and, suddenly, he felt like he was floating.
Sausage used his other hand to stroke his cheek. Fwhip trembled as Sausage kept searching through his mouth. He didn’t care that he was suffocating, all the mattered right then was the way Sausage was petting him.
But, they were still mortal, so Sausage had to pull away. Both were left panting, but only Fwhip was left weak. Sausage looked a mix between smug and triumphant.
“I think that’s a debt repaid,” he said, booping his nose.
Fwhip took a deep breath before he nodded. “Y-yeah… I’d say so…” He swallowed. “Hot damn.”
Random side note: this was based off THIS artwork by @yb-cringe and his Dracula AU! I loved the idea and my brain decided to be functional so I slapped it down quick and fast! I hope it came out well!
Pearl looked up at the rotting mansion before her. It stood tall—at least three stories—and looked as if it was sagging forwards from the weight of time. The wood was weak and splintered, and she distantly wondered how it was still standing. The chimney wound up to the sky, and a flash of lighting illuminated the dark, cloudy sky. The skeleton of the house seemed to jump at her in the sudden light change, and it made it seem all that more imposing.
She liked to think herself a brave person, never shying away from a fight or challenge of any sort, but in that moment she wasn’t afraid to admit she was scared. The flashlight in her hand weighed like ten bricks and the rain falling around her seemed even more cold than it did when she stepped in her van to find Sausage.
Sausage.
That’s why she was here. The poor fool had gotten himself mixed into trouble again, and he was missing. Though, it wasn’t hard to find him. He’d left a note explaining how he found a cool, abandoned building in the woods—and if that wasn’t a red flag—and was going to go explore it. She knew, despite all his recklessness, that he wasn’t stupid and would probably be fine. But it had been three days now, and he hadn’t shown back up.
Admittedly, she was worried. So she tracked down the building, packed her van full of things she might need—a med kit, several flashlights and blankets, a tent, batteries, ungodly amounts of snacks and water bottles, and a few weapons of her personal choice for the worse case scenario—and drove off in the direction she knew he’d gone. It wasn’t a long drive, but every second had felt like an hour. Another second Sausage could be hurt, or worse. Another second he could be in danger. Another second he could be—
Boom. A loud clap of thunder had her jumping out of her skin and dragged her back to the present. Right. She was here now, equipped with a dagger at her hip, a flashlight in her hand, and her unwavering determination to find her friend. She took a deep breath and walked to the front porch, wincing and flinching at each creek and groan of the stairs and wood planks beneath her feet.
Now, Pearl was a pretty tall gal, but she felt puny next to the front doors. Two, dark, smooth oak wood doors stood in front of her, engraved with gold and silver—a stark contrast to the rest of the rotting house. Three words rested above the door, painted in gold, curly writing. From left to right, they read:
Villam est Arescet
She took a bit of Latin in high school, and from what she remembered, it meant The House Of… something. The last word was foreign to her. But she shook her head and moved on. Weird, old language or no, it won’t stop her from getting to her friend.
She took a deep breath, and pushed on the door. She sighed in relief as it swung open, unlocked. Stepping through, she was hit with a sudden chill and desire to run. It was… unsettling, and frankly very terrifying, but she pressed on. As soon as she made in last the threshold, the door swung shut behind her in a very cliché, horror movie manor.
She yelped a bit and stumbled forwards. It was unnervingly quiet. No wind, no footsteps of scurrying mice, even the rain was silenced. Her shoes echoed through the empty forum, the sound bouncing around the walls before hitting her in the face. The flashlight did barely anything to illuminate the dark house, the darkness seemed to swallow everything and, if she wasn’t careful, herself included.
Pearl swung her light towards a grand staircase in the middle of the room. It split off into two directions, each winding around a large pillar before stopping on the second floor. To the left was a large, grand statue of what seemed to be a rose. To the right was a large, empty cavern that looked like the void.
‘Probably just a wine cellar,’ she thought. Although the chances of that were slim, she held on tight to it. She’d rather not have to go down there unless she was positive Sausage was down there.
As she pointed her light around, she came to a very sickening and disturbing realization.
Everything was clean.
Normally, that be a good thing—a clean house was a happy house, after all—but in an abandoned mansion, it’s probably the last thing you’d want to see besides a ghoul or monster lurking in the shadows. Because a clean abandoned mansion meant it wasn’t abandoned. And that probably meant she wasn’t alone in the building.
Fear latched it’s cold claws into her brain as she continued to look around. No cobwebs. No dust. The candles were full. The floor was nice, almost new. The wallpaper wasn’t peeling. Everything looked nice and somewhat modern. If she hadn’t been here for Sausage, she would’ve turned tail and ran away by now.
But she couldn’t. Not when her friend was still in danger.
She was about to ascend the grand staircase, when a painful, grief stricken wail tore it’s way out of the wine cellar. It sounded exactly like Sausage. She immediately grabbed the knife in her free hand and—using the limited light of her flashlight—ran down the stairs as fast as she dared.
A weak, orange light started leaking through a corner which she had yet to turn and she flicked her flashlight off. The dagger felt heavy in her hand as she pressed herself against the wall and peeked behind it. Two, red headed people sat at a table. One female, one male. One of them flashed a smile and her blood ran cold.
Vampires.
Suddenly, she was very, very glad her dagger was silver. She turned back behind the wall and covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Panic and anxiety flooded through her, but she couldn’t back out now. Her friend’s life was on the line, and if she didn’t act fast something was bound to happen.
So, pushing away her fears, she gripped the knife and jumped out, brandishing her weapon close to the monsters.
“Let go of my friend, you filthy bloodsucking—“
She cut herself off as she took in the scene. The two vampires hadn’t acknowledged her at all, and were arguing over… a card game? Sausage sat between them, snickering undoubtedly over their bickering. All at once, they turned to her, their argument forgotten.
Then Sausage smiled, got up from his chair, and ran to her, pulling her into a hug. “Pearl!” he cried happily. “So nice of you to join us!”
She blinked, taking in the situation before laughing. “I should’ve known you weren’t in any danger, you silly goose,” she said, hugging him back, careful of the dagger in her hand.
“Why would I be I any danger? Fwhip and Gem are very nice!” he laughed, letting her go and motioning to the two at the table.
The male—Fwhip, most likely—stood, put his hands on his hips, and pouted a bit, his fangs poking out. “Hey! We are very scary and intimidating vampires, thank you very much!”
The woman—Gem—rolled her eyes. “Who suggested we played Go Fish?”
Fwhip dramatically wilted and sat back down, the pout still resting on his lips. “It’s a fun game,” he mumbled, crossing his arms and slumping back into the chair.
Pearl cracked a smile. Leave it to Sausage to befriend a pair of vampires in the middle of the woods. “Care to deal me in the next round?”
Sausage beamed. “We just started, I’ll deal you in right now!”
He dragged her over to a chair and sat her down, between Gem and himself. He collected all the cards, shuffled them back into the deck, and dealt them out to the members for the table. Three games later, she nudged him.
“Sausage,” she whispered. “We ought to get going home. You’ve been gone for three days, and Bubbles is worried sick.”
Her friend suddenly stood up. “Oh my god, Bubbles! My girl! We need to get home, now!”
Fwhip raised an eyebrow. “Bubbles? Who’s that?”
He turned to the vampire as he dragged Pearl to the staircase out. “My dog! She’s probably worried sick for me! I’ll be back some day, don’t worry!”
With that, he was running up and out the door, into the rain and into the van. Pearl rushed to to driver’s side and he hopped in the passenger’s. They drove in silence for a while, Sausage’s foot tapping anxiously the whole time.
Pearl decided to break it. “Y’know,” she began, turning to him with a sly smile. “Next time you run off into the woods to hang out with your vampire friends, let me know.”
They shared a laugh, relieving some of Sausage’s worries. “I’ll do you one better, Pearl! I’ll invite you!”
