callmecyan

Sky

Sky/Caly/Nox•shroom/star/they/fei/she• I like block man and writing• hope you have a nice day•pfp:octoberended

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I Was Looking Through Your Older Requests And Stuff From 3rd Life, And I Remembered The One With Scott

I was looking through your older requests and stuff from 3rd life, and I remembered the one with Scott and Jimmy nearly getting sacrificed to Dogwarts and I thought hmmm...demons, red aesthetics, a generally more powerful side?

Basically, I think it would be cool to have a version of that with Sausage and fWhip trying to sacrifice Jimmy.

(And wow, Jimmy really can't get a break with religious tones after EVO, huh?)

THIS. is genuinely one of my favourite things i've ever written, if not THE favourite. i'm so so proud of it :D

cw beating, blood

…

Jimmy no longer has the energy to scream or fight. Having been beaten periodically throughout the day, his chest and neck are in too much pain for him to move. Sitting slumped in the tiny cell he’s been put in with his hands tied behind his back, all he can do is keep fighting against the dull pain all over his body threatening to drag him into unconsciousness.

All he can do is keep fighting to stay awake.

Finally, they come for him. Led by fWhip, Sausage pulls Jimmy out of the former’s base and out to the altar that’s been set up in the centre of Sausage’s castle.

Jimmy knows exactly what’s coming. Neither fWhip nor Sausage has made any secret of what they intend to do to him. And after a full day of being kept in a cell, hands tied behind him, beaten every time he tried to escape or fight back, he doesn’t have the strength to try and stop it.

As they push him onto the altar, Jimmy stumbles. As a response, Sausage hits him in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. Seconds from passing out, Jimmy is powerless to stop Sausage from pulling him up onto his knees.

Coughing weakly, Jimmy slowly lifts his head to look at his captors. “Wh-Why are you doing this…?” he croaks. “What did I do…?”

“Sorry Jimmy, but Xornoth demands a sacrifice,” fWhip responds, and Jimmy can almost hear a twinge of genuine remorse in his voice.

Jimmy tries to push himself up in one final desperate attempt to escape but his chest and throat are screaming in pain and he’s unable to stop Sausage from pushing him back down and holding him in place.

“Please…!” he rasps, pulling weakly at the ropes binding his wrists. “Please…”

Neither of them respond as Sausage pushes Jimmy’s head down and fWhip lifts the axe.

Tears fall from Jimmy’s bruised eyes. He wishes he could fight back but he barely has the strength to stay conscious. If he has to die, he’ll die with as much dignity as he can.

“STOP!”

Jimmy again lifts his head, and though he can’t see very well through his blurred vision, he can make out a figure standing on the wall several blocks away.

“Pixl,” Sausage growls.

fWhip’s demeanour completely changes. All his remorse and carefulness disappears as he roughly hauls Jimmy to his feet by the scruff of his neck and holds his sword against his throat, angling Jimmy in front of him like a human shield.

“Don’t come any closer,” he says coldly but calmly.

“Let Jimmy go,” Pixl orders, lifting his trident and aiming it directly at fWhip. “Now.”

fWhip’s grip on Jimmy tightens. “You’re in no position to bargain. One quick movement and we’ll see how much blood the Codfather has inside him.”

Nausea rises in Pixl’s stomach at the grisly mental image. “I’m not saying this again, fWhip: LET. JIMMY. GO.”

“How did you know to come here?” Sausage snaps suddenly. “You live thousands of blocks away!”

“I told him.”

It takes Jimmy’s fuzzy mind a moment to recognise this new voice but when he does, his heart skips a beat.

“Scott?” A hint of surprise is audible in fWhip’s voice. “Why would you do that?”

“Because what you’re doing is barbaric,” replies Scott icily. “Now listen to the Copper King and let Jimmy go.”

“What do we do?” whispers Sausage to his ally.

fWhip narrows his eyes, his analytical mind trying to calculate the odds of him winning this fight.

As he does, he twists the sword in his hand and nicks Jimmy’s neck with the sharp blade, causing him to let out a semi-conscious cry of pain.

That sound triggers something in Pixl and he lets his trident fly. His aim is remarkable and it slams into a tiny piece of fWhip’s armour visible just to the side of Jimmy.

fWhip staggers back, releasing his grip on the Cod Empire ruler, who collapses to the floor like a stone. “Retreat,” he hisses to Sausage. “We won’t win this fight.”

Sausage, clearly needing no further encouragement, takes off into the air with his elytra, followed closely by fWhip.

Immediately, Pixl and Scott both rush to Jimmy’s side. Scott pulls out his dagger and cleanly slices through the ropes binding Jimmy’s wrists, while Pixl carefully lifts Jimmy into his arms.

“He’s really beaten up,” Scott observes shakily. “How could fWhip and Sausage do this to him…?”

Pixl straightens up, Jimmy clutched limply but securely in his strong arms. When he speaks, his voice is low and barely controlled. “I don’t know. But we need to get his injuries seen to as soon as possible.”

“Take him to his house,” says Scott. “Gem and I have been working on healing magic so I’ll fly over and get some of that to help him.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

“You too.”

As Scott takes off into the air, Pixl rushes back to Jimmy’s house and carefully lays him down on the bed. As he removes Jimmy’s gloves, he spots bulging red burn marks left over from where the ropes dug into his wrists.

This simple sight almost unleashes Pixl’s barely-contained fury. Tears of anger spring to his eyes as he gazes down at the bruised face of his unconscious friend, twisted in pain even in sleep.

He turns his head to look out at the darkness through the window. fWhip and Sausage needed a sacrifice for their stupid demon and they chose the easiest target. It makes Pixl’s blood boil to see them continually pick on Jimmy just because he’s unable to fight back.

A weak cough brings Pixl’s attention back to his injured friend. To his horror, he sees blood pooling at the corner of Jimmy’s mouth, so he leans down and checks his young friend’s breathing.

As he’s doing this, Scott returns, holding a leather pouch in his hands. “How’s he doing?” he asks worriedly.

“He’s not breathing well,” says Pixl quietly. “And he’s coughing up blood. A few more minutes and we may lose him. What have you got?”

“I have a healing crystal,” Scott reports, pulling a magenta crystal out of the pouch in his hands. “It should heal any internal injuries and ease his pain, but external injuries won’t be affected.”

“That’s fine. Do it.”

Scott moves over to Jimmy’s bedside and closes his eyes as he holds the crystal over Jimmy’s body. The crystal glows magenta, and similar-coloured energy starts to flow from it into Jimmy.

Pixl watches this with interest. He’s never had an affinity for nature magic and it intrigues him how crystals can have such magical properties. But soon his interest is outweighed by the relief that the colour has returned to Jimmy’s skin and his chest isn’t heaving so much anymore.

Finally, Scott lowers the crystal, which has stopped glowing, and tucks it back into the bag. “That should help,” he says.

“Good,” murmurs Pixl. “He looks like he’s breathing easier.”

Scott nods, not trusting himself to speak again.

A brief pause follows.

“I want to ask you something,” Pixl says, in a tone that makes it clear he expects no argument. “Why did you call me?”

Scott glances at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You’re on their side. Why would you want to go against them like that?”

After a moment, Scott looks away. “Because a long time ago, Jimmy told me he didn’t want to look me in the eyes as I get sacrificed on an altar; I realised earlier that I didn’t want the reverse.”

Pixl nods slowly. He, like many others, heard about what happened on 3rd Life and even though he isn’t aware of specifics, he can’t help thinking that Scott’s remark is tied into that.

Scott lifts Jimmy’s limp hand and pushes back his sleeve slightly to reveal the burn marks that Pixl noticed earlier. He gives a deep frown as he tenderly traces the mark with his finger. “I don’t understand how they can do something like this to someone they once called their friend,” he murmurs. “No matter how much things have changed, he… They… You just don’t do that to someone.”

Pixl nods again as Scott carefully places Jimmy’s arm back down on the bed. As he turns to leave, he again glances back at Jimmy and hesitates. After a moment, he reaches out and gently brushes the bruise over Jimmy’s eye with the backs of his fingers, unable to hide a deep frown of worry.

“Why do you treat him so coldly all the time?” Pixl asks. “You clearly care for him a great deal and he cares about you. Why do you continue to push him away?”

Scott takes a moment to compose himself and steady his voice before he replies. “I’ve already gone through the pain of losing him once. I can’t do it again. I’m sorry, but I have to go now.”

Pixl almost argues but thinks better of it. “Okay. Thank you, Scott. For calling me and for helping Jimmy.”

“Of course. Goodnight, Pixl.”

“Goodnight.”

After Scott has left, Pixl locks the door behind him and pulls up a chair next to Jimmy’s bed. His friend’s face is a lot less pale than it was, though the bruise over his left eye and the thin cut in his neck are still very much visible.

Feeling a wave of affection and protectiveness, Pixl gently strokes Jimmy’s shoulder and takes a great deal of relief from seeing a small smile appear on Jimmy’s face in his sleep. Every instinct in his body is urging him to fly out there and enact vicious revenge on the people who did this to his friend.

“I’ll make them pay for hurting you,” he vows quietly. “I swear.”