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frog-writes-for-fun · 3 years

Note

Hey!👋

I really loved the scott shenanigans!

So on to more requests. Could you maybe write something about third live!Grian betraying the reader to win?

Thank you and have a great day!

-🍄anon

Hi 🍄! I hope you’re having a great day too! I write both platonic and romantic for 3L/LL Grian, but you didn’t specify so I went with platonic for this fic. It’s a bit ambiguous, so it could be read as romantic if you want, but when it’s not specified I’ll generally go more platonic.

The Watchers’ Will

3L!Grian x gn!Reader (platonic)

Summary: Grian was an old friend of yours, and the two of you joined the Third Life server together. You knew he was excited to win the competition, but you didn’t know just how far he’d go to secure victory.

Warnings: Angst, reader dies (but they become a ghost), mentions of explosions and other deaths.

Note: First attempt at angst, let’s go! Also, some events may have been shifted around, I binge-watched 3rd Life and some things blurred a bit. Call it creative liberty.

You and Grian joined the Third Life server together, and knew from the beginning that you’d be a team.

Scar was an unexpected addition to your team after Grian accidentally took his first live via creeper.

Of the three of you, Scar reached his red life first. Even with three pairs of eyes rather than two, no one saw that ravine.

You lost your first life in a simple accident, when you got caught in a cave with a swarm of creepers.

Your second life was lost to a much more intentional force. During the battle for the Red Desert, you were caught in the explosions that destroyed the landscape and were quickly finished off by Martyn.

After the battle, you respawned in the bunker you’d made in case of this sort of thing. You picked up the iron armor you’d made as a backup and headed out.

The bright sun reflected off the remaining desert sand as you emerged from the bunker. Blinking the light out of your eyes, you looked around. The land was torn apart, pock-marked with the aftermath of explosions. No one stood in the wreckage.

You grabbed your communicator. Scrolling through the chat messages, you scanned for the names of your allies. Grian had died. Just once, though. There was no death message for Scar, so they had both survived. You sighed in relief. Lowering the device, you scanned the sands once more.

Movement caught the corner of your eye. Turning, you saw the familiar red sweater of Grian as he dug his way out of the sand. Walking over to the hole he was crawling out of, you offered a hand and a smirk. “Great minds think alike, ey?”

He clasped your wrist, giving a smile and a nod in answer. “The fighting’s over, then? I haven’t looked at the chat; how’s Scar?”

You hauled your friend up. “Alive, at least. No idea where he is, or any of the Dogwarts lot.” He nodded.

“Shall we find him then, before he does end up losing his last life?” You gave a grin in return.

The two of you set off toward the remains of Monopoly Mountain, where the skeleton of the sand castle still stood. The going was a bit slower than it used to be as you and Grian had to avoid or jump over the pits caused by the explosions from the battle for the Red Desert.

As you reached the path that led up to the ruins of your old home, you thought to assess your gear. Quickly checking through your equipment, you ensured that your sword was safe at your hip and your armor was put on properly. You didn’t have much else, as your old tools and weapons had surely been taken after you died.

Making it to the top of Monopoly Mountain, you and Grian stepped up to Pizza’s grave. It was somehow still intact, despite the many explosions that had ravaged the nearby landscape. You both lay a hand on the headstone, taking a moment of silence for your fallen companion.

You stepped past the grave, up to the edge of the cliff. Raising a hand to shade your eyes, you looked out past the desert to the forest beyond. There was no sign of Scar, but a plume of smoke spiraled into the sky from somewhere beyond the trees. “I… don’t see him. Should we go to-”

A flash of pain burst across your back. You let out a gasp, spinning to face your attacker. You expected to see one of the members of Dogwarts, who’d hidden in the remnants of the sand castle, or maybe even Scar- he was on his red life, after all. Instead, you came face-to-face with Grian. “Wha-”

He swung his sword again, clashing against your chestplate.

You took a small step backwards, reaching to the iron sword on your belt. “Grian, why are you attacking me?” You brought up your weapon to block his next strike. His attacks held far more force than the slashes he’d tried in your practice spars.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this!” You were forced against the edge of the cliff, barely deflecting blows that struck with bone-shattering strength. You never thought Grian could be this ferocious. You could feel your health depleting rapidly, as you didn’t have a shield and couldn’t fend off all his attacks.

You struck out desperately as you reached low health. You felt your blade connect a few times, but it wasn’t enough to force your attacker off.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s happening here?” An incredulous shout came from the path leading to the peak where you and Grian fought. Glancing over, you saw Scar bounding up the rough road.

“I’m sorry! The watchers need me to do this!” In your brief moment of distraction, Grian struck again.

“Grian!” Scar’s call came too late. Your old friend stabbed his sword into your chest, piercing straight through you.

The feeling of dying was strange. On the one hand, you felt the solid thump as your body hit the ground. On the other, you remained standing, with the sword through your now-incorporeal form.

Blinking, the world seemed… dimmer? Less saturated? Glancing around, you saw other forms take shape. Jimmy, Cleo, Skizz, the other players who’d died.

Jimmy had a concerned expression, while Skizz was more surprised. Cleo seemed almost happy, and waved to you. You hesitantly waved back.

You tried to speak, to ask what was happening, but when you opened your mouth nothing came out. Seeing what you were trying to do, Cleo held up her communicator, pointing at it. Looking down, you saw that your comms device had seemingly come into the afterlife with you. Picking it up, you saw some messages pop onto the screen, in a chat just for the spectators.

<ZombieCleo: Welcome to the afterlife y/n!>

<SolidarityGaming: I never expected Grian would do that! Are you okay?>

<SolidarityGaming: Well, I guess you’re dead too. I mean emotionally?>

Looking back up at the other dead players, you shrugged. Turning, you watched what was happening between Grian and Scar.

“What do you mean ‘you had to do it?’” Scar sounded in shock.

“The watchers needed me to!” Grian looked nearly in tears. “I didn’t want to!” His voice was choked.

You looked up at the other spectators, confused. Skizz had gone, presumably to his still-living allies. Cleo shrugged, and your communicator pinged.

<ZombieCleo: Not us.>

Returning your gaze to the other residents of the Red Desert, you saw that Grian had left. Scar stood next to Pizza’s grave, pulling out some trapdoors and stone from his inventory. As you watched, he built another grave beside the llama’s. A chest was placed on top, containing the gear you had when you died. Your bloody sword was laid on top. The final piece was a sign, denoting who the memorial remembered:

Y/N

Friend, Ally, Fighter.

Betrayed, but would never betray.

Rest In Peace

Scar stood at the completed grave for a minute, head bowed. “I don’t know if you’re watching, y/n.” You started. “If you are, know that I won’t let him get away with this.” Turning, Scar made his way down the remainders of what used to be your home.

Grian stood, victorious, over Bdubs’ body. Turning, he faced Scar. “We did it! Scar, we don’t have to fight, we can be friends again!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Grian had betrayed you, literally backstabbed you, and he was willing to ally with Scar now? Did you really mean so little to him?

The rest of the watchers floating around the scene frowned. This was a game to the death, not a game of friendship.

Cleo nudged you. Glancing at her, she raised her comms. You glanced down to see a message on yours.

You looked up at her and nodded. She returned it, then moved back to the circle of spectators.

Scar looked… hopeful? Confused? You weren’t entirely sure what emotions were flickering through his face. Before he could respond, you typed a message into chat.

Grian’s face fell as he read your words. You only smiled.

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