#hoursfic

[inbetweenhours]

The Cure & The Cost (Chapter One: Find the Fix)

Wanted to make some chapter covers for this fic of mine and finally got around to it! The agony of writing chapter 10 has pushed me to actually start drawing again lol. Enjoy!

[inbetweenhours]

The Cure & The Cost (Chapter Two: The Coerced)

Finally finished this cover for chapter two whilst taking a little Battleship break! Hope folks enjoy this during the fics month hiatus! Enjoy!

[inbetweenhours]

Belief, Perseverance, and a Pinch of Holy Water

8,347 words | Vampires SMP | Avid & Legundo

“Avid,” Legundo moves for the door, trying not to startle him too harshly. If he is having some sort of mental break, Legundo needs to move carefully. Avid doesn’t respond in words, just a gasp before Legundo manages to get the door open. Looking down to meet the young man’s eyes, staring horrified up at him. “Oh, no no no no!” Avid wails, pushing back against the far wall. “Shut the door! You have to- I have to-!” Legundo has no idea what Avid is trying to communicate, but considering the door can only be opened from the outside, Legundo is keen to remain blocking it open. --- Avid doesn't get turned. He panics, and Legundo reaches out to right a few wrongs, finally listening to Avid's concerns and trying to help.

(ao3 link)

@mcytbattleship

[inbetweenhours]

Oakhurst Militia's Solstice

[ao3 link embed]

The sun rises over Oakhurst, warm rays glinting off the fresh laid snow blanketing the small town. The fields beyond its walls nearly seem to sparkle, blinding those who dare look upon it. It’s beautiful. Gorgeous, really, if only Apo could find it in herself to truly appreciate the sight. - Apo celebrates the Winter Solstice with the Militias whilst thinking about Cherri back home, and appreciating who she has now.

My gift for @apocherri for the @mcytblrholidayexchange!

A poly!Militia Vampires SMP fic with a focus on Apo and her relationships with the militia, Martyn, and Cherri :] Big on hurt/comfort and making the most of a sour situation <3 She's getting her good day! I hope you like it!

[inbetweenhours]

Broken Covens & The Failing of Mothers

12,396 Words | Vampires SMP | Mayor Louis & ZombieCleo

It has been an odd few weeks in Oakhurst. Being turned and promptly ignored by the castle vampires as if Pyro hadn’t stuck his nasty little claws into them. The tension between town and castle hitting a new high with the undeniable revelations of the reality of vampyricism to the skeptical. And most recently, another elder, seemingly risen from his grave. Louis. A man Cleo knows nothing about, and seemingly, neither does anyone else. -- Following the sudden return of Owen's sire to Oakhurst, Cleo seeks out Louis to compare their vampiric history against his experience and learns a few things about them both.

(ao3 link) @mcytbattleship

[inbetweenhours]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

we are not the same

King Scott of Rivendell is interrupted from travel preparations and introduced to a deathly stranger wearing his own face. He brings the stranger along with him to his meeting in House Blossom in hopes of delivering the man a route home. Instead he earns himself a headache and a whole lot of questions. -- 3L! Scott appears in Rivendell and meets E1!Scott. They try and figure out how to get Scott home.

realised I didn't actually share the link for this here. Enjoy!

[inbetweenhours]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

The Canary & The Lamb

“Birdie wanted to leave home, and Sparky helped him leave? Right? That's-” the voice pinches off for a moment, a sharp noise in their throat. “Is Birdie happy? Is he alive? Was it worth it?” The wide open plains around them feel suffocating for a moment. As if all the air in the world has been stolen away from them. Tango’s mouth hangs open, brain wracking for answers. For who this could be. For why now a call would come. “Yeah- yeah I’m happy,” Jimmy breaks the silence, a confidence he has fought and ran for stirring in his chest. So obvious Tango swears he could fall in love all over again. “I’m alive, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been." -- AKA Tango helped Jimmy escape from a cult and now they live on their ranch together. Scott, also escaping a similar cult, finds a way to reach out for help, and the ranchers come running.

Hey everyone! I participated in @mcytblraufest this year and this was on of my pieces for the event! Written with so much love for @solsearchingnights ! It's a flower ranchers au featuring preestablished ranchers helping Scott to escape from a cult. One that Jimmy and Tango have a history with as well.

There was so much more for this au that I had thought to do but I just didn't have the time or energy given the nature of the event haha. But I am really happy with how this came out! so :] I hope you all enjoy!

[inbetweenhours]

wcsmp Milo/Scott prequal fic excerpt: "Scars"

How did Milo and Scott meet? What is the Witching World and how it relates to the Overworld? Who were these two before the domestic bliss found in Scott's flashbacks or in the tragedy of necromancy that came after?

[1006 words]

[quick tw for discussion of past child abuse]

/////

“Every scar a new story, huh?” Scott snorts, fingers tracing idly over Milo’s body, with its skin exposed under the twilight sky.

“Yeah, of course!” Milo chuckles, yet another tale of fighting off beasts in the great untamed woods of the Witching World ready to leap from his tongue. He’s had so much fun already just telling Scott about his adventures.

He hadn’t meant to brag, didn’t feel like much more then nearly dying at the time. He knows more than anything his mother would hate it, if she could see the way he throws himself into danger. 

But Scott throws his head back with a laugh from where he’s propped on his arms looking down at Milo, touching him carefully. A shiver between them for the sentiment. Gentle touch, what a wonderfully foreign thing. Milo hasn't had that since before his mother died.

He imagines Scott hasn’t been too acquainted with it either, for as little as Milo really knows about him.

“I’m sure you have some stories of your own,” Milo murmurs, his own stories falling from his tongue. He instead reaches for Scott with his own hand, smiling as Scott merely raises a brow.

Milo grasps Scott’s palms from where they lay on his chest, turning them over to see the old scars he knows are there. Scott stills over him, the coyness of his expression dropping into something a little more guarded as Milo leans up to kiss the palms gently.

“It’s not much of a story,” Scott says, after a long moment. Milo just shrugs.

“Something left its mark on you. That isn’t nothing,” He says, though his tone neither pushes nor retreats from the conversation.

Scott is quiet another long moment before he takes his hands from Milo. Then he lays down, settling his head on the hunters chest and facing him. His expression is pensive, holding his own hands and clutched protective near his chin as he thinks. Milo doesn’t disrupt him, instead reaching to run a hand through the others hair and smiling as the green eyes he’s grown to love so much stare up at him.

“People in the Overworld are scared of magic. You know that,” He mutters looking away again into the clearing.

“I know,” Milo agrees softly.

“My town wasn’t very appreciative of my talents,” Scott huffs, as if attempting a dry laugh. He reaches and, though his hand shakes, beckons a lily from the earth.

“Their loss,” Milo murmurs with a smile, reaching for the flower and plucking it up to tuck behind Scott’s ear. The man snorts with some small amusement. The small glow of affection settling warmth in Milo’s chest amidst all the ache of seeing Scott so wary again.

“I didn’t know to hide it when I realised I was… good with plants,” Milo doesn’t correct him, letting Scott call it what he wants. “I showed off a lot. So my parents took a belt to my hands hoping it would free me. Or maybe just stop me from doing it again.”

Milo has heard of cruelty, he understands it uniquely through his mothers spiralling paranoia and the stories she spun. Of witch hunts and the dangers of man, the cruelty of a life he hasn’t any memory of.

Here, Scott presents him with a new kind of horror. One he can’t even imagine, especially as Scott speaks so calmly. Guarded, as if talking about it could cut his hands anew. Or even that he is embarrassed by the confession.

It doesn’t make sense to Milo. His mother in all her paranoia had never hurt him on purpose. She had been smothering, raised her voice at times, but she was never cruel. She would have given anything to protect Milo from pain, and she ruined both of them for it. But the point stands, she had tried.

The easy smile on Milo’s face drops more tense than he has been in a long, long time. He stares at Scott. At his hands.

“Your parents,” Milo parrots, voice broken. It’s what finally takes Scott's gaze from the clearing back to Milo, frowning.

“Sorry, I told you it wasn’t much of a story,” he murmurs, tucking his hands clasped again to hide the palms. As if he can just put them away after Milo knows what's been done.

“Your parents tried to beat the magic out of you?” Milo sits up forcefully. Scott yelps, his head falling into Milo’s lap instead.

There’s a wild look he finds in the hunter's eye. It makes him gulp nervously just as easily as it flushes his cheeks.

“And my teachers, with rulers or pointing sticks,” he says, though he can’t imagine why. Milo already looks horrified.

“Why?!” Milo asks, suddenly desperate. Because he has known cruelty in theory, but this beyond anything doesn’t make sense.  “You were a child, and they hurt you. Tried to take away such an important part of you!”

“Didn’t work well, now did it,” Scott mutters, lifting his hand to touch the lily still in his hair. “They were scared, I guess.” 

Milo lets his mouth gape before closing. Unable to find the words. Nothing worth saying comes to his mind.

Milo knows what fear does to people. He knows what it did to the villagers who so greatly betrayed his mother, and he knows how it warped his mother herself. He gulps, mouth feeling dry. He understands, he does on a technical level alone. What Scott has said makes sense. Afraid people do drastic things.

Scott’s parents scarred his palms for fear of his magic and what he was capable of.

Milo’s mother isolated him for fear of the world, and what it might do.

“Well, that's not a very good reason,” Milo mutters, throat unusually tight. Scott shifts in his lap, squinting up at him for a moment before the expression softens impossible.

“No, I guess it’s not,” He agrees quietly, almost as if the thought had never occurred to him before. Not with such empathy at least.