#grian... grian buddy your ISSUES

[definitelynotshouting]

HI. HELLO. SORRY. i heard we’re talking about hunger au + the others finding out about fucked up stuff that grian’s doing

i’m obsessed with the potions. in order to die (which he doesn’t even *want*, or at least doesnt think he wants, he just believes it’s the safest option) he has to corrupt his friends’ attempt to help him. healing potions have been like. the only thing he’s conceded on for his own comfort. tango is super excited when he learns about them bc 1. it’s something actionable and immediate thatll directly help, and 2. grian gets noticeably… not hopeful, exactly, but definitely more responsive the few times that they’re talking about the potions. which. i’m sure tango will feel really good about after the fact (assuming the plan happens).

and then mumbo overextended himself making a *gold farm* entirely for potions and pearl “got carried away” collecting netherrack. it’s so clearly a priority for them. how are they going to react when grian hurts himself using them?? when they find out that they don’t do anything notable in the first place *except* give him a way to hurt himself?? after potions almost killed him the FIRST time??????? augh. i think about it so much

(also i heard we could pick emojis so im picking 📞 ty <3)

You're more than welcome to pick an emoji!! :D i honestly love it, i love seeing regulars in my inbox its like having people wave at me from across the street whenever they send in asks hehe :]

Man, the potions..... yeah the potions are crazy dude, i can see why everyone is obsessed with them. I havent exactly made a post on this yet, but healing potions don't actually do anything for a Watcher's structural code (theyre designed for Player surface code specifically, so they arent even fully compatible with Watcher surface code), which makes him conceding on them even more painful, because the others are latching onto this single one opportunity to help and its not even actually helping. Its being used, in fact, to eventually hurt him. Nobody is gonna like that.

Im really glad how everyone's desperate attempts at getting the potion ingredients are being picked up on in fic, especially since those references been sorta randomly sprinkled in throughout the chapters (usually through dialogue). Yeah they are.. thats gonna be Fun when they find out the truth on that one >:] ive had the scene for that in mind for AGES and i cannot WAIT to finally get it out there for everyone to see, because man. Its gonna be visceral, i'll tell you that

Im so so glad you like what im doing here enough to be rotating it in your brain like this!!! :D i shake your hand we sit and spin the potions like rotisserie chicken

[whereispearlescentmoon]

I love the idea of the hybrid glitching trope in fics so much. Like the fandom has just determined that some hermits are part animal or mob or other and that sometimes they don’t get to choose how big that part is because of a glitch?

Cleo, Doc, Tango, Cub, and Jevin becoming hostile? Incredible angst potential but also humor because imagine you’re chilling with your buddy Cleo and she just starts burning in the sun and trying to eat you randomly, or Jevin keeps trying to jump into glass walls, or Tango keeps shooting fireballs at you, or Doc won’t stop hissing when you get too close and is suddenly terrified of cats. Cub is actually being relatively tame… as long as you stay away from any skulk sensors or shriekers so you don’t summon him.

For the more “animal” oriented hybrids, it’s more about wrangling than anything. Ren has gone full wolf and someone has to stop him from trying to chase down and kill Gem, Etho, and Zedaph, who will not stop running, because wolves kill foxes and sheep. No one can get False and Grian out of the sky (which is a problem because, evidently, a falcon can and will try to kill a parrot), XB disappeared into the ocean somewhere, and Scar, Beef, and Joel are… being relatively chill. Turns out a cat, a bull, and a raccoon are actually pretty easy to deal with comparatively.

As for the more esoteric or out there hermit hybrids, things are even weirder. Skizz wants to track down Impulse but Impulse won’t leave the nether and Skizz can’t enter it right now. Pearl is shapeshifter, so she’s just resigning herself to uncontrollable shifts and trying not to break anything when she randomly sprouts horns or wings or a tail. Juppet’s “handler” is gone so he’s fully just out of commission, and had to be placed in his little one by one base for the time being because he can no longer move. X looks fine outwardly, but he’s actually struggling to not fully turn into void mist inside his suit.

And for the hermits who I don’t headcanon as hybrids (Bdubs, Keralis, Hypno, Wels, and Mumbo) they’re just trying to keep things in line but maybe not doing a great job given just how quickly the situation would probably devolve, especially as X is trying to fix server issues (being the only admin who’s currently… reachable) while also trying to remain corporeal.

[falseren]

Rensymmetry post mid-2023

aka. how Rensymmetry rose in prominence as a duo, especially a Ren duo, and Blue River Raceway

Ren and False have always been a duo, and everyone kind of knew about them from HC6 neighbours and MCC (9 Blue Bats). But I think 2023 subtly altered the status quo and pushed False way up to the top of Ren duos. It was made obvious and in-your-face in a way it wasn’t before. Like, she’s his top streamer. All five of his top Twitch emotes are hers, which is absolutely insane considering he’s a regular streamer with his own set of commissioned emotes.

I mention Ren duos specifically because Ren always has dominant duos (usually gay ships) and that kind of overshadows his friendship with a woman. I personally feel like a lot of the status quo re: Ren duos is stuck pre-2023, which I know is a weird statement considering core Rensymmetry events happened before 2023, eg. Blue9, but it still gets a bit overshadowed. It’s been changing and people are acknowledging Rensymmetry (because they are kind of obnoxious LMFAO ���) but at the same time… for a duo that is so blatantly in your face with a consistent stream of insane crumbs, they’re not getting the attention one might expect.

On several occasions Ren has talked about how False helped him/ was there to support him during his irl issues, and we as the audience can see how they got closer when Ren returned from his hiatus in mid 2023. Ren’s first stream back (with facecam) was him grinding False’s elytra course. Mid 2023 was also when False got involved in BRR.

Re: BRR, it’s a Ren-Etho collab with False joining in with the building, but to me it was quite obvious it was Ren’s baby, and it meant a lot to him. It’s the spiritual successor to his Speedy Pines. It’s something he always wanted to make. It’s a very Ren project — half infrastructure, half racing — and he envisioned a server event (the Grand Prix). It’s quintessential Rendog. He threw himself almost completely into BRR when he returned.

False also spent a lot of time on BRR. Ren mentioned in his HC9 finale that he was very grateful for her and how she helped to make his vision come to life. And since it was such an important project to Ren, I think the kind of support (emotional and creative) that she provided really touched him and snowballed into the devotion + admiration you see now. Like, she became so important to him that he’ll just do anything for her.

You can start to see bits from mid 2023. There’s the TCG stream in which Ren offered to take the heat in case the fans didn’t like that the stream torch (TCG cards) would go to False and not Grian. Ren was being dramatic, but it was also his “anything for you Falsie 🫡” mentality coming into play.

BRR became their playground in which they constantly streamed from there (although not at the same time). While the Lifers were doing Secret Life, Ren was BRRing. While people were at Twitchcon, False was BRRing. Perimeter prank? False and Ren just released their BRR racing episodes. While Decked Out mania was in full swing, they were BRRing. Decked Out open day? BRR. (And False had to act as Ren’s messenger owl because he was away getting food— they were talking about BRR on their own.) Even when Tango did his DO redstone stream, they were BRRing. It’s second nature to them because they love minigames and competing against each other (eg. MCC, the minigame stream they did with Cub in summer 2023).

And then on it went until the Grand Prix which left such a strong impression on Ren that not only did he utter “I cannot think of a more worthy winner” (insane line), he also spent one year planning an irl trophy gift for False (also insane). He really appreciates her in a way that feels like it can’t be undone. They were good buddies before this, but I think it’s quite clear they’ve gotten closer.

Other insane bits include the “Hermitcraft isn’t Hermitcraft without my friend False close by” (which imo is one of the most insane things a hermit can say about another hermit) and Ren ending his last stream on HC9 by playing False’s elytra race. And he said without hesitation that she’s his favourite hermit and one of his best friends. Don’t worry, this is just the beginning, he gets worse.

I was going to flash forward to HC10 but then I remember False popped in on Ren’s Xmas stream on her phone while with family so there’s that. Like don’t you dare her call her toxic and mean when she checks in with Ren even when she’s busy. And Plateup with Cleo.

HC10. Demise 2. Murals. Hats. Armour stands. Multipass.💥💥💥

During Demise 2, I remember False interpreted a message from chat as that chatter thinking her and Ren were “not normal”, and she got vaguely defensive and mentioned something about how you know someone a bit better now and people think you’re not normal (this was after twaddle). Not gonna lie, Demise 2 era twaddle isn’t even that bad. Not when compared to post charity stream twaddle or big business river twaddle.

Anyways you can see they clearly appreciate and adore each other from the random snippets they include in episodes/ FalseLive / False’s featured clips/ whatever Ren’s going on about on stream. They’ve always been sweet but not like this lmfao. Ren in particular is going to explode. “A piece of the puzzle is missing” “MCC isn’t the same without you” okay. False is less obvious about it (because Ren is flying off the handle) but also likeeeee the featured clips… the Instagram comment… being in Ren’s chat… when Ren was singing and she said in chat how can you be so talented… <3

Their friendships is so sweet. And I think it’s cute how it manifests in the way they create on Hermitcraft. Like you really understand why Ren thinks Hermitcraft isn’t Hermitcraft without False. You really understand why False goes to Ren’s base when she needs a creative break from her own base.

[foggysilverfeathers]

Follow up to this, but Wild Life edition:

0 notes

🤖 daily-trivia7 Follow

Today’s trivia question: Who was Grian’s ‘secret soulmate’ in Double Life? Beep boop!

Put your guesses below! Beep!

🌍 scarred-sunflowers

Damn

☀️grain-sub-one-club

IT WASNT LIKE THAT

947 notes

🟡 impulsive57 Follow

Just found some basalt, going to see what it tastes like! This will be awesome!

🟡 impulsive57

hopital

2,322 notes

🐤 not-a-canarydeactivated74628 Follow

hey is anyone else seeing loads of weird spam bots

🐌 slimeidarity-gaming

Free lives! Click HERE!!!!

🍪 creaking-cookiesdeactivated228976

I’m going to click it to see what happens!!

🐤 not-a-canarydeactivated74628

It killed him

🌼 gemini-slay

Why is everyone here dead. Skill issue tbh

1,276 notes

🛞 ilovecarsandmywife Follow

Day 32 of posting fast and furious quotes: 

“I don’t have friends. I got family.”

12 notes

🐾 the-diggity-dog Follow

Days without snails: 3! Life is good.

4 notes

🍁 etho-slab Follow

Just wanted to say a few words about the best person among us, @spoonsandspanners, for being taken from us far too soon. Skizz was one of the best people I knew, and it really hurts to have to say goodbye.

👂 littlewood-is-listening

Wrong account buddy 

7,843 notes

✨ scott-the-stars Follow

Everyone out here like, ooh, look at my cool superpower! Look, Scott, I can fly! Look, Scott, I can teleport! Look, Scott, I can literally summon the undead to do my bidding! You know what I can do? 🐓 

1,947 notes

🌑 human-cleo Follow

@skizzlywizzly-real @littlewood-is-listening-real @spoonsandspanners-real go make fun of Grian

🧟‍♂️ spoonsandspanners-real

Yes my liege

🧟‍♂️ skizzlywizzly-real

Yes my liege

🧟‍♂️ littlewood-is-listening-real

Yes my liege

3,473 notes

⏱ bbdoubledouble Follow

They call me a shreeper agent the way I can. Shreep. Can also stop time but the shreeping is more important.

3,689 notes

🦜 shadow-lady Follow

12,438 notes

🐾 the-diggity-dog Follow

Days without snails: 0

…

…Don’t speak to me.

34 notes

🤖 daily-trivia7 Follow

Today’s trivia question: What animal did Gem and Pearl ride around on in Secret Life?

👂littlewood-is-listening

its a skeleton horse trust

👨🏻‍💼spoonsandspanners 

Ok, thanks for the help! 😊 

👨🏻‍💼 spoonsandspanners

MARTYN

1,748 notes

🛞 ilovecarsandmywife Follow

Day 46 of posting fast and furious quotes: 

“You don’t turn your back on family. Even when they do.”

32 notes

🌙 pearlyp0p Follow

Love using tiny writing to pretend I’m small. Hey there little bugs.

☀️ grain-sub-one-club

Hey! We don’t appreciate being called bugs!!!

👨🏻‍💼 spoonsandspanners

Yeah!! Pick on someone your own size!!

😇 skizzlywizzly

Sub one club won’t take this slander!!!

🦜 shadow-lady

Hi guys

6,293 notes

🛞 ilovecarsandmywife Follow

WHO ATE MY CAR

🛞 ilovecarsandmywife

YOU

477 notes

🛞 ilovecarsandmywife Follow

My wife is mean to me :(

3,925 notes

🌼 gemini-slay Follow

What do you MEAN the snails go after one day :((((

🌼 gemini-slay 

<🐌3

🐤 not-a-canary

I cant tel if youre joiking or not

☀️ grain-sub-one-club

Ough there’s some rage in those notes

🌼 gemini-slay

They’re just little guys, cmon, they haven’t done anything wrong!

🌑 human-cleo

THEY SLAUGHTERED MY ALLIANCE

13,582 notes

🌍 scarred-sunflowers Follow

Hey you ever focus so hard on a project (building a rollercoaster of death) that you get distracted and end up several miles away from it knee-deep in research into something else (red bamboo is a thing) ultra-concentrated on a third, unconnected thing (how many innuendos can I get away with claiming are accidental)

3,343 notes

🐾 the-diggity-dog Follow

POV you are so bound to another that even in death you carry his face, clinging onto the last memory of him, so fearful of forgetting him that you splice your DNA with his, losing yourself to save him, and ultimately turn everyone away from you until you roam the wilderness alone, lonelier than Frankenstein’s monster yet weaker, haunted by his memory every time you look at your reflection and see his staring back.

🐾 the-diggity-dog

I don’t miss him though

6,426 notes

Thanks for reading! Super fun once again 😊

[rascal-shark]

hot wild life SMP take: the series has turned into PVE instead of a PVP series. i kinda didn't like this season of Life SMP because of it? hear me out:

-the wild cards created a PVE dynamic instead of PVP. like everyone was constantly going to other groups to gather intel on the wildcard and it became really collaborative for what grian calls a PVP series. these folks are friends in real life and value that more than the rp aspect of forming factions, so they kept grouping together with their buddies! why have factions at all? theres also no incentive to kill others once the dark greens were gone: keep inventory is on, theres more than 1 enchanting table, and you didnt get time from kills like in LL. there was no reason to kill the other players, and a ton of reasons to put all your energy into surviving the wild cards (who cares about killing gem+joel when you have a 1-hit-kill snail chasing you?) you can really see that once the last dark green died, the server as a whole was just... confused about what to do, and it felt like the series was stretched out artificially.

-less mc-survival-oriented than usual. usually, groups band together to get resources, and a lot of memorable moments have come from resource skirmishes. (double life's raid for sugar cane on grian, the CONSTANT conflict in last life over the enchanting table, third life's desert walls, etc). resources cause a lot of pvp moments and also theft, which leads to faction conflict. however, constantly being given OP resources mean that its way more profitable to engage with the wild card than to aqcuire, hide, protect, and barter with your own resources. why bother with a sugar cane farm when the grumbots will give you tnt? -> your faction doesnt have a sugar cane farm -> no one has reason to raid your base -> no faction conflict or kills. (same issue as in secret life... the bases were, dare i say, set dressing?)

-resources and content: i say this with all the love in my heart, i think grian has little brother instincts and hates losing, so he's instated rules like "keepinventory" and "free weapons from item drops" because constantly mining or losing his stuff to item despawn annoys him. he has a very keen instincts for fun (probably more than he gets credit for), but i think in this instance, its also caused a lot of gameplay issues. it seems like 95% of the time in wild life, everyone was on the surface overworld socializing or engaging with the wild card. no one's mining or going nether after week 1 because they can get everything they need from the season's wildcard -> everyone is always on the surface of the overworld -> its hard to set traps because people are always home. also, with limited time per session, you really had to CHOOSE what resources you gathered. if youre a red and the series is wrapping up, you can't go to the nether for blaze rods AND start a wart farm AND get iron for minecarts AND get sand AND get---- ...So the CCs in previous seasons had to make interesting choices! If you had no one on your team, you couldn't collect many resources, so the factions served a purpose! You would use earlier setup episodes to build resource farms - if you didnt do the work of hiding them, youd lose it all. If you made too many enemies, theyd take it all away. You had to barter (or not barter), but to barter, you had to leave your base, leaving you open for attack. You could kill enemies to take their inventory! But now, ALL of this is gone because grumbot gives you everything, because you can't mine with a snail around, because you can't solo resource gather without missing out on the content that only really worked if you were in the open plains of the overworld. Secret life had this issue as well, but much less.

-limited character interaction: the wildcards really took people away from each other, which is probably the BIGGEST issue. for example, i really, really wanted to see a whole bamboozler amusement park! i wanted to see those goofballs invite people over for fun rides and concessions and the mascot in the earlier, lower tension episodes; then use it to kill folks once trust had been built and when stakes were higher. would they pull it off, or fall folly to their own traps? but every episode was so focused on the wildcards, they either couldn't, or didn't want to, keep building. (they stopped pushing the amusement park aspect after the snail episode). or gem and pearl! gem literally said she was amping up their rivalry because things were boring! and then gem said they'd have fun when they were both red (foreshadowing), but gem died to a wildcard first, and i believe they kept trying to have conversations but were interrupted because they had to run away from a wildcard gone wrong. aside from pearl, impulse never had individual bonding moments with the other 4 Gs because they never went on missions because there was nothing to steal and no resource-gathering missions to go on. only traps, which they didnt do too often (it seems like the server was holding back so the series would last longer?). no one could really do bits or form plotlines because their attention was on surviving the environment, not creating content with others.

-the "winner" issue: folks who have won before don't try to win anymore. that was a nice gesture back in the 3rd & 4th seasons, but now that theres 7 winners in a server of 18, almost HALF the server is trying to lose a death games. (also, cleo seems to play by this rule despite winning the april fools season? i wish she wouldnt because she doesnt get included in most of the winner fanart cause its considered a gimmick season, but i may be biased.) im really hoping they launch like a "season 2" and state that old winners can win again. 4Gs got boring really quickly because 3/4 of them had won and didnt care to win. scar seems lost since hes not trying to win, either.

idk, this got long. tbqh, this is more of a technical breakdown than me being mad (who the hell gets mad over a minecraft SMP lol i am a wholeass adult watching videos made by ppl ive never met). as long as CCs are happy, i dont really care, but i probably wont watch the next one in any POV unless it goes back to being a pvp series. cheers!

[applepixls]

my heart goes out to episode 3 secret life grian because I'm kind of living it right now (watch out peeps, low-key a vent incoming!)

in a stream after the big win scar says he's not sure if he could do it again, the whole being alone and having no friends thing and i kind of know what he means. as a real person its hard not having friends because you have no emotional support or people to connect with etc etc etc. in game it was hard not having friends cause he couldn't lean on anyone for resources and always had to leave home and manufacture interactions for content rather than being able to multitask and go caving with a friend (like the "i left my diamonds right here!" bit in last life with grian and mumbo. its just a mundane task but the interaction has become iconic)

but we're talking about grian now. just- the state of this man. i related a little bit too much to him in this episode. he made the diagonal staircase creature the episode before and said it looked like his brain; mush. but then in episode 3 ended up getting the task to follow his old buddy from the previous season around and just having joel go "ok lol lame. this is awkward. we're not really best friends, he's just following me around" (disclaimer: i know its just for the bit and they're good friends irl) and then to have joels new best bud (aka lizzie his irl wife-) go "HAH! you got no fri-endsss~!" (this lives rent free in my head lol) and tease him the following is a compilation of moments i related to having recently drifted from a close friend of several years :) - watching joel bond with the mounders from afar and having him just go "one second grian, we're bonding" when just one season ago they would bond and say who was boogeyman or not at the beginning of episodes - finally thinking he's got a friend because of his task, joel saying he'll "let [him] know" when he takes damage and how much and "oh, you don't want me to hang out with you?" "no but you can go hang out at the top of the helter skelter alone if you want". thinking he had a friend to turn out he didn't. (its then still socially okay and funny that he refused to leave joel alone because its all a bit for the episode) - "he's my pet" "i think we're friends. i think we're best friends" the thinking we're best friends not being mutual - "one moment, grian" as grian's trying to talk to him and joels just doing his task. its the being put off as a second priority over other friends (made me weirdly frustrated despite knowing its all made up silly improv-d conflict between grown adults who are actually friends) - "heard something about a group of friends, maybe I'm now a part of it?" its socially kind of weird to do this irl but the. knowing a bunch of people you know are a like Friend Group and wondering why you're not included - "not even this enderman wants to be my friend! im gonna cry" not that relevant just felt silly and relatable - "am i just here to clarify rules; you guys don't want to be friends?" serving a functional purpose to a group, no ones actually finding you just for you and to chat and be friends (I've gotten messages from friends just needing me to settle arguments between other friends) - (after chanting fail at mumbo) "its just me, this is why i don't have friends" the finding yourself cringe at every turn and thinking wow this is why no one likes me. yknow as im typing this im thinking "wow this is why i have no friends, isn't it? im on tumblr using it as a diary rather than making friends and speaking to them about my issues or finding a therapist to work through my insecurities." - throughout the episode just hating everything he created and wanting to destroy it - the stairs and even later the egg (not relevant to having friends. well kind of but not really. but loneliness can make you act crazy its just the art block and frustration and disappointment in yourself and your failure to have a vision and properly bring it into fruition) - "i definitely won't back down on this, I'm committing fully to the egg" i have a bad habit of running away from friendships when i get scared of any slew of things or just don't like them anymore, hence why i no longer have friends :) - the fact each time he finds something, anything, to pull him away from his whole being alone thing and distract him for any amount of time he goes and dives full in but the conversation always comes back to how he has no friends. - feeling like you'll never be capable of creating and committing to long lasting healthy relationships like everyone else seems to be, settling for short term slightly toxic (joel literally didn't want to be his friend) ones just to have someone to be around. smth smth, "we accept the love we think we deserve."

i'd originally rewatched scar's secret life and thought it would make me sad cause he spent the whole time being alone but scar never made much of a big deal of being lonely and just made comments like "that's not right. how did the guy with no friends win?" feeling like he didn't deserve the win which echoes pearl in double life saying "this wasn't supposed to happen. i wasn't supposed to have friends" like she was scared of making bonds after being rejected by both martyn and scott at the beginning and like she was actually crazy and surely deserved them both leaving and didn't deserve friends but that pattern is an entirely other thing to dig into

when i first watched secret life as it was coming out (October to December 2023) i thought i was on good terms with this friend or was at least deluded and distracted enough to think that. i haven't rewatched grian's perspective since realizing our friendship was all falling apart at the beginning of this year (mostly in march) and then running away from some other friends and becoming a weird little egg on my own. its funny how grians made up improv'd loneliness can echo real loneliness, isn't it?

im very happy he got adopted by cleo and etho the next episode.

[frozenjokes]

Something Somber, But I Hope At Least I Can Do My Best To Help You

there are guns in this fic, this is the warning for that. she’s (the fic) is a tad angsty

“I’m going to kill you now.”

Grian stood in the shallow water, holding some sort of human device in his hands. He was alone today, but it was possible Scar was just recovering from his injuries at home. That would make sense. However, Mumbo did find it a little odd that Grian hadn’t brought much of his stuff, the bag left in the grass looking deflated in comparison to how full it usually was. Grian wasn’t moving very much, very stiff as he pointed whatever he was holding at Mumbo’s face. He looked.. a little upset? It didn’t really look like he wanted Mumbo to have it, he was holding it so tightly, but Mumbo was getting a little confused about what exactly the purpose of this was.

Mumbo leaned a little closer to sniff, but Grian winced, taking a couple steps back. Well. Guess that answers that. Mumbo’s fins rose and fell on his back and head, twitching with annoyance. Why did Grian call him over if all he wanted to do was stare?

“What,” Mumbo said, hoping Grian would at least try to explain whatever it was he was holding and why he wanted to show it off, but Grian remained stiff, lips pursed.

“You don’t get it. You don’t- I’m going to kill you, and you don’t understand. Do something. Get mad or hiss at me or lunge or something. Defend yourself.”

Ah, so he was upset. If he was trying to communicate why, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Mumbo wasn’t even sure if this was about Scar; he didn’t think so, Grian never said Scar’s name, but he wasn’t sure what else. Wait, could he still be mad about the whole bag stealing thing? That was so long ago! If that was the case, that was sufficiently a Grian problem, learn to let go of a grudge, buddy.

“What,” Mumbo asked again, hoping Grian would do a better job at explaining himself.

Grian huffed as if his own inability to be clear was Mumbo’s fault, “This is a gun. Gun,” Grian moved the device a little in his hands, but didn’t hold it any less tightly, “I am going to shoot you with it. I am going to kill you.”

Mumbo stared blankly. Alright, the thing he was holding was a ‘gun.’ Great. Was he going to show him what it did, or were they just going to sit here for another twenty minutes. Mumbo didn’t mean to be so impatient, but honestly, Grian was being stupid and Mumbo’s tail was still in quite a lot of pain, worse in the shallows.

“I can’t- you don’t get it. And you know, it’s nothing against you. It’s not. Well..” Grian paused, thinking, then shook his head, “No, it’s nothing against you, even if you stole all my shit and fucked up my ankle- I might have a limp for the rest of my life, y’know! I probably won’t. But I might! You tore through all sorts of important shit in there.”

Mumbo wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be understanding what Grian was saying, but the human didn’t look like it planned on stopping, so Mumbo let it be. Still, he kept a slightly warier eye.

“And I’m not sorry, by the way. About your tail. You deserved that as far as I’m concerned, stealing my stuff then trying to sing me into the water after I was injured- I know your game. That’s what you guys do. You kill people. At best you’re like- like a public nuisance. But you’re dangerous, I know you’re dangerous and I..” Grian trailed off, looking away, “I’m just afraid Scar doesn’t know.”

Ah. There it was. So this was about Scar.. oh, Mumbo hoped he was okay. Scar hadn’t looked like he was hurt too badly, but then again, anything could have happened. The bite could have gotten infected or was deeper than Mumbo had thought, or any other number of things. Given how upset Grian seemed to be, something must have happened.

“Scar doesn’t have a very strong sense of self preservation, he never has, and it drives just about everyone in his life up a wall. I don’t know why or what’s wrong with him or if he’s got some sort of mental health issue he isn’t addressing, but it’s always been this way and- and he just gets so focused. Like he gets an idea in his head and he literally can’t think of anything but pursuing it. And when I say literally, I mean it. He doesn’t think about anything else! I don’t even know if he can! You would not believe how much he talks about you, it’s all ‘Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo! Mumbo this, Mumbo that,’ and because we have to keep you a secret, all of this goes to me and-” Grian cut himself off, taking a second to breath.

“It’s not that I care. Scar can talk my ear off all he wants about anything he wants. Sure, it can be a little much and I get frustrated with him from time to time, but at the end of the day, he picked me, y’know? There’s a guy that can talk his way into anything he wants, who can make friends with basically anyone, and he still.. he wants to talk to me. And that’s a special thing, y’know? Scar is a special kind of guy. And it just kills me when he tries to throw his life away!” Grian kicked up sand and water as his voice rose through gritted teeth, and Mumbo jumped back, startled, though he immediately regretted the motion, hissing in a soft whine at the pain that pulsed through his tail. Grian stared at him for a long while, still pointing his ‘gun,’ but his shoulders fell.

“He’s going to be mad at me. For killing you. Doesn’t matter how many times I said I was going to or how many times I told him he couldn’t interfere if I let him come and see you. He’s going to feel bad, then I’m probably going to feel bad, and we’ll probably both feel very bad for a while, but it’ll be fine because Scar will be alive. That’s what matters, in the end. Not mermaids, not money- well, actually I won’t go that far. I’m going to sell the shit out of your body and I’ll probably be very well off for the rest of my life. I think I’m allowed to want that too! I think that’s fair.”

“And I’ll have you know, Scar’s not innocent either, he still wants you in his zoo even if he doesn’t talk about it around here anymore. As if you’d even understand. I’m telling you to your face I’m going to kill you and sell all your body parts and you couldn’t give less of a fuck. It’s impressive almost, how neutral your face is right now. You look a bit like one of those dogs from those kennel ads? All of them looking all sad with the sad music trying to make you feel sad so you go out and adopt. That’s how you look all the time. It’s the eyes. All big and dark like that. Ugh.”

Mumbo wasn’t sure what to do. Clearly this human was in some kind of distress, but the more it talked, the more he was sure he had no clue what was actually going on. Had it come looking for some sort of comfort? Why Mumbo? Out of everyone Grian knew, surely Mumbo was the least qualified by far.

Did.. he know anyone else? Humans were social animals, Mumbo knew this, but mermaids were too, and even despite this, some had trouble fitting in. Mumbo had never seen another human other than Scar hang around with Grian.. maybe while Scar was healing and resting, he just didn’t have anyone else to go to.

Well, Mumbo knew a few things about humans. They liked to talk (loudly) and yell at each other (loudly) and call each other’s names and be obnoxious to each other for fun. Though, given Mumbo did not speak human, this seemed out of the question in terms of things he could do to help.

Humans.. liked touch. Mumbo was pretty sure of that, no matter how foreign it always seemed. Scar was always touching Grian affectionately, and despite the latter never looking all too thrilled, he never really reacted negatively either, sometimes even visibly relaxing. Is.. that what Grian was looking for?

Mumbo steeled himself, less for the pain of maneuvering in shallow water and more for reaching out his hand toward the human ahead. Sure, maybe they’d had a rocky start, but Grian was clearly in distress. If Mumbo could show him that he cared, maybe Grian would understand he meant to be friendly? Even still, he found his head and body cringing back in anticipation of The Touch, though he kept his arm extended, one eye still watching anxiously.

Grian looked.. well, honestly, Mumbo couldn’t tell if he was any more or less distressed than before, but it felt a little bit different than before?

“What.” Grian said, looking rapidly from his gun to Mumbo to Mumbo’s hand, eyebrows pinched, “What is this. What are you doing.”

Ah, yeah, that made sense. This was pretty radically different behavior for Mumbo; if he was on the other side of it, he’d be wary too. Though, he didn’t quite have the words to explain himself. For a moment Mumbo considered singing, something soft and somber so Grian might understand his intentions, but given how the human reacted last time he sang.. no, that would be a bad idea.

‘Red,’ he whistled instead, “Grian.” Mumbo’s gills flared gently, frustrated. Why was this so hard. Maybe Grian was put off by how uncomfortable Mumbo looked.. maybe looking a little less like touching Grian was one of the top ten worst things that could possible happen to him would be a start.

Mumbo strained to get a little closer despite the pain, holding out both of his arms instead of just the one, palms up. He managed to open both of his eyes, though they were still pretty narrowed in the bracing anticipation of something unpleasant. He even tried to face Grian completely instead of shying away, though he couldn’t quite force himself to manage that entirely. Grian’s mouth hung open, like breathing that way might give him more information on what exactly was happening here. Unfortunately, intention was not something humans could smell.

Grian slowly, slowly lowered his gun, not letting go, but not holding so tightly either, leaving it in one hand at his side. His arms were shaking- actually, mostly of him was shaking.. Mumbo wasn’t quite sure what that meant. Likely a symptom of human distress; it didn’t seem voluntary, quite unlike the quivering of mermaid fins when they were very angry.

Mumbo snapped back to reality when Grian moved, taking a slow step forward. Then another. Then another.

‘It’s okay. This is okay. I’m sorry about Scars, and I’m sorry you’re worried. I think you’re worried. That human seems like it’s survived quite a few injuries though, I think it’ll be okay. I thought you were going to hurt each other, and even now, I’m not entirely sure you weren’t. Mermaids have thick skin. You do not. Humans are too fragile, you can’t be fighting each other like that.’

“You’ve been watching us, haven’t you. I mean, of course you have, but this is.. I guess you’ve really been paying attention. Is that what we sound like to you, just all sorts of nothing speech all day? I bet that gets annoying. I’ve never heard you talk this much. I guess your language is also pretty complex. It must be, unless you’re just repeating the same few concepts. It’s hard to tell. Are you really that intelligent? Wow, if you knew what I just said you’d probably be offended. But I just- I mean you’re just a big fish, yeah? It would be crazy to just assume you had comparable intelligence just because you kinda look like a person. But that’s what Scar thinks of course.”

‘I have no idea what you’re saying, but I’m pretty sure this is how human conversation works. You take turns talking for long periods of time and stare very uncomfortably at each other’s faces. This is a foreign concept to me, Red. Humans are extremely weird.’

“It’s funny how when you’re saying one of our names the clicking stops. Did you do that just for us? So we’d be able to say them? I just assumed some mermaid words didn’t have clicks, but you don’t stop. You don’t stop at all actually, it doesn’t even look like you breathe.”

‘Is this the appropriate time to speak. You humans don’t pause for very long before another one starts talking. My arms are getting tired, are you going to touch them and feel better or not.’

Mumbo almost thought Grian understood, because at nearly the same time Mumbo spoke, it moved forward another step, far closer than what was comfortable, though, to be fair, this entire experience was uncomfortable. Couldn’t Grian just reach out and touch Mumbo’s hands from as far away as possible? What was the point of getting this close?

“You look. Uncomfortable.” Grian cringed back, demonstrating the word and gesturing vaguely to Mumbo before his neutral expression returned. “Uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable! How did he know? Mumbo had gone through so much effort to look friendly and inviting, he hadn’t even bared his teeth once! Mumbo took a moment to inspect himself, a few quick embarrassed clicks escaping his throat when he saw every single one of his fins across his back flared out and on end. Even the big one at the end of his tail was all spiky and sticking out of the water, goodness. Mumbo forced them all down at once, re-presenting his arms.

Grian laughed, which Mumbo was 90% sure was a happy sound, and then relaxed a little more, waving his hands in a ‘no’ gesture.

“I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want me to, Mumbo. I’m not- Do you just think that’s a human thing? Lots of animals enjoy physical contact y’know, we actually domesticated a ton of animals for the sole purpose of petting them. I have to think you guys also enjoy it, at least with each other. You’re just flighty with humans, and I’m guessing lots of other stuff in the water. Do mermaids get eaten a lot? I can not imagine that being an issue. You’re huge.”

Grian backed up a little, but not out of fear. Just.. stepping away. Mumbo dropped his arms, somewhat relieved, but a tiny part of him was also a little annoyed. Clearly there was something magic about human touch, and Mumbo was kinda starting to want to know what the fuss was about. But Grian kept its distance now, and Mumbo didn’t think he would be able to convince it to approach him again. Shame. Though, admittedly, it was nice to not have his personal bubble be so thoroughly invaded.

“Hey,” Grian said, grabbing Mumbo’s attention back, “This isn’t- I’m still going to kill you. I’m going to.” It raised its gun half heartedly, but stopped, dropping it with a huff and a little stomp of its foot. “If you hurt him. Scar. Again. If you even touch him I’m going to- I won’t hesitate. If you kill him I’m going to- I’ll be really upset. So don’t. Do that. Clear? Are we clear?”

Mumbo stared. Grian stared back.

“Are we clear? Yes or no.”

“What,” Mumbo said, deeply confused, but Grian only huffed. Mumbo flicked his tail fins with a short hiss, ‘I don’t speak your dumb language, if you want me to understand then tell me clearly.’

“Don’t sass me.”

‘I don’t like your tone.’

“Shush!” Grian drew a finger over his mouth and Mumbo copied the gesture, flicking his fins. Grian threw up his hands like he’d been mortally offended, turning immediately on his heel. Humans. So dramatic. Internally, Mumbo noted the gesture for later as something to use when the humans were being particularly annoying.

“Whatever!” Grian declared, not looking at Mumbo as he spoke, “I’m leaving!” He marched away out of the water, stomping and splashing as he left in what Mumbo was sure was a conscious effort to be as obnoxious as possible. Amused, he began his careful backpedal into deeper water, sighing contentedly. After a minute, Grian seemed to be quite offended when he looked back to see Mumbo also leaving, yelling and calling out and being a total nuisance, but Mumbo ignored him, relieved to be out of the shallows.

Scar was all kinds of odd, but Grian felt like a different beast sometimes. Scar was predictable in his weirdness, completely baffling, but consistent. Grian felt like he reacted differently to the same exact situation every time, the one exception being when he felt he was in danger, in which he would just scream. Loudly. Shrilly. Only sometimes justified.

Maybe it would just take a little more time.

Scar was easy; easy to impress, easy to speak to, and easy to watch- Mumbo would say Scar was easy to be around, but that wasn’t quite the case with his chronic lack of environmental awareness, always swinging his arms and moving erratically. But at this point Mumbo was used to it. In a way, that erraticness was predictable too; Mumbo knew to keep a little more space between the two of them because of it. But Scar was an open book, and Grian clearly wasn’t.

He was guarded like Mumbo was, and that was a good thing. Scar’s carelessness was written all over his body, and Grian had his moments of impulsive stupidity, but Mumbo didn’t worry for his life like he did for Scar’s. Briefly, he wondered if Grian worried about Scar as well.

[endcrman]

Allostasis

(Chapter 4)

As a general rule of thumb, Grian doesn’t do public servers for a multitude of reasons. This one hadn’t even made it onto the list.

TW for PTSD symptoms, Self-Neglect, and minor Disordered Eating (All of these very minor in this chapter)

Read the whole fic here. (Here for Ao3/mobile.)

-

Getting back into the swing of things was easier said than done, Grian quickly found out. Nobody expected him to be normal again immediately, nobody except for himself, which was enough of a stressor he didn’t need.

He wasn’t prepared for the effort it took him to not just start wallowing in bed again, every morning began with a fight to get himself out of bed. Most days he managed, others he needed a little help. He tried not to think about how when he wasn’t out in a couple hours, somebody was flying by and checking in on him, he tried not to think about how much work he was being for everyone else.

He didn't like being work, he didn't like being an issue, even if everyone insisted he wasn't, he knew better.

He knew if it weren't for the week he spent in bed by himself, he wouldn't be receiving so many gifted meals. “Leftovers” he was told they were, as if anyone had leftovers in this server, he was being coddled; but damn if it wasn't the best he'd eaten in months, even with the guilt that piled on with every meal.

When he could, he threw himself into his own work, be it fishing, building, or being harassed by his friends at the permit office. It helped him feel normal again, being able to pretend nothing had been wrong in the first place.

“Hey Grian!”

Like he’d been doing just now.

“How’s the fishing going?” Gem had come up behind him without him noticing, which seemed to happen often while he was focused on the river. Not Gem specifically, just in general.

“Lots of junk,” he glanced over to see Gem without pulling his attention away from the bobber in the water for too long. “Plenty of fish though too, you hungry?”

She laughed a little, sitting on a nearby barrel. “I think I’m doing alright. What are you fishing for today anyways?”

What was he fishing for? He already caught his mending book a while ago, it was just a good mindless activity. He shrugged, reeling in the next bite, a cod. “Good to get me out and moving,” he admitted, casting again. “Keeps me from wasting away in bed all day.”

Gem was quiet for a bit, which made him nervous. “I’m proud of you,” she said after a while, which made him scrunch up his face.

“Ugh, no, no serious talk,” he said, laughing a little to try and lighten the mood. “Come be normal and fish with me. I need normal.”

“Okay, okay,” she laughed right back, getting off the barrel to join him on the dock, sitting down to dip her feet in the water as she rummaged around for her own rod. “Let’s be normal together, whatever that is.”

“Normal for us,” Grian reiterated, soon realizing just how much his own feet were starting to hurt, just how long had he been out here? Eventually he was joining Gem, sitting cross-legged next to her. “So what’s your angle here?”

“My angle,” Gem repeated, reeling in and casting out again before she continued. “Why do I need an angle? Can’t I just want to hang out with my fishing buddy?”

“Nobody wants to just hang out with me right now,” Grian realized how bad that sounded as soon as it came out of his mouth, wincing. “I mean- that’s not-”

“I get it,” Gem interrupted him, and he let out a relieved sigh at not having to explain himself. “I’m not here to mother hen you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just missed you.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled, watching as his bobber sank beneath the water, too distracted to pull it back. “You wouldn't believe all the attention I'm getting right now, it's embarrassing.”

Another successful catch and cast from Gem. “We all feel a little guilty for not noticing sooner,” she explained, keeping her own gaze focused on the water. “I can't speak for everyone, of course, but we're trying to make up for it, I think.”

“We're veering off into serious territory again, Gem,” Grian warned, though he did nothing to stop it, hypocritical as he was. “Don't feel guilty, okay? It's not your fault, it's not anybody's fault.” Just his own. 

She barked a laugh at that, finally tearing her eyes away from the water again. “Easier said than done, but I'll try. You'll just have to convince everyone else now. You know Mumbo's worked himself up into a mess about all this, right?”

He grimaced, reeling in his empty line to set the rod aside, laying back on the dock to look up at the sky. Yeah, he knew. “I'm fine now, obviously. He knows he can just come talk to me, instead of sending you to do it.”

“Hey! I came here of my own volition!” Gem scoffed, sounding teasingly offended. “My ulterior motive is totally different from whatever he's got going on.”

Grian quirked a brow, turning his head to look at Gem again, who had a grin on her face now. “Ulterior motive, you say?”

“Well…” She drawled, reeling in another catch before setting her rod aside as well. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes when she finally looked back over at him. “You didn't hear it from me, but I think my little snail friend has been missing her usual company as well.”

It was almost embarrassing, how quickly he sat up at the mere mention of mischief. “Aw, I'm sorry to hear that. I could probably pass the message along,” he hummed, resting his chin on his hand as if deep in thought. That didn't last long though, soon enough he had a grin that matched Gem's, far too excited at the prospect to play coy. “I wonder if they’d like to see just how much Scar’s train has grown since the last time they visited.”

Gem threw her head back and laughed, scrambling to her feet. “I’m sure that’d be fantastic enrichment for them, we should see what they think.”

Grian followed her up, groaning as he was standing again on his own aching feet, but he was too excited to complain, adrenaline already pumping through his veins. “I bet I can beat you there,” he challenged, darting off before Gem could even react and cackling when she finally did shout out behind him.

He could almost hear her footsteps in the grass behind him, her own laughter quiet compared to the wind whipping past his ears as he picked up speed. Scar’s build wasn’t too far from his dock, thankfully, but he could already feel his lungs aching. He yelped as he tripped, just about falling head over heels as he rolled the last couple of feet, sprawled out on the grass as the world spun around him.

“Grian!” Gem sounded worried, and her steps slowed down as she stopped next to him, looking down from above. “Are you okay?”

He blinked, the world finally settling around him, then he cackled again and the worried look slid right off of Gem's face. “Never better!” He wheezed, starting to push himself up. Once he was sitting and catching his breath, he fluffed up his wings for a second so the feathers would lay flat again, slightly askew from his tumble. He was sure he looked like a mess in other ways too, grass stains on his knees and elbows, wild-eyed and flushed, but he couldn't bring himself to care, laughing again as Gem offered a hand to help haul him up on his feet once more.

Hearing Gem's laughter in return, he felt lighter than he had in a long time. “You are ridiculous,” she scolded, snickering regardless. “If that was a fair race I totally would have beat you.”

“Pfft, what? That was absolutely fair,” he bluffed, crossing his arms, though the look Gem gave him had him laughing yet again. “Okay. Okay, next time it'll be fair. Snails now?”

There was a pause, Gem narrowing her gaze as she crossed her own arms, but soon enough her grin was breaking through once more. “Alright, snails now.”

The two of them definitely didn't do anything but supervise as the snails did their work, eager to harass Scar and his build yet again. It really was a beautiful train so far, Grian almost felt guilty setting loose base-eating snails on it. Almost. They were small enough that the damage was barely there, just enough to be annoying, which was always his goal.

He and Gem were giggling again when they finally parted ways for the evening, prank left behind for Scar to find later, depending on when he decided to return home. Grian had his own goal now, the time with Gem making him realize just how much he missed his other friends too. Even when he was actively trying to take care of himself he was isolating and he hadn't even realized it. What else was he doing wrong?

Instead of dwelling, he found himself outside of Mumbo's base, the Mothball or whatever— surely he could come up with a better name than that, right? Cupping his hands around his mouth, he realized how helpful a horn would be in this situation. “Hey! Mumbo!”

Mumbo’s face looking through the barred windows startled him, he was almost expecting to have to go on a server-wide search he didn’t think he had the energy for. “Grian?” His eyes widened, and Grian could see his mustache curl into a smile even from this distance. “Hang on a moment, I’ll be right down!” And he disappeared again.

Grian had to stifle his laughter as Mumbo all but fell out of the hanging base, a hand clamped over his mouth as he tried to keep quiet. He mostly had it under control by the time Mumbo was up on his feet again, suit rumpled and hair sticking up in all sorts of directions. “Hi Mumbo,” his amusement was obvious, even without the laughter.

Before anything else could happen he was swept up in Mumbo’s arms, the sudden action forcing a squeak out of him as his feet left the ground, kicking a little. “Mumboooo!” He wailed, the dam holding back his laughter bursting once again. He stumbled when he was finally allowed to touch the ground again, arms out to keep his balance.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mumbo didn’t sound too sorry, more for the inconvenience than what he’d actually done, mirroring Grian’s smile with laughter in his own voice. “I just- I’ve missed you is all,” his tone petered off into something a bit more nervous as he wrung his hands together, “Scar told me a bit of what happened.”

Those words were spine chilling, and Grian felt his face fall. “He did?”

“No details!” Mumbo quickly assured him, hands landing on his shoulders. “He- he told me you weren’t telling Joel either so-” Grian felt himself relaxing a little as Mumbo squeezed gently. “He told me that something… serious happened, when we went offworld. I thought that maybe- but I- you were-” He sighed, hanging his head. “I’m sorry, Grian, truly.”

“Oh, Mumbo, no,” Grian tilted his own head forwards, bumping foreheads with his friend. “Is that why you haven’t come to see me yet?” He asked, trying to tease, “too busy feeling guilty?” Mumbo opened his mouth and closed it again, gaping a little like a fish, which meant his answer was yes, and he just didn’t want to admit it. Grian sighed, pulling away a little so Mumbo’s hands slid off his shoulders, taking one of them in his own. “Come on. We’re hanging out, no guilty feelings on my watch. Done and over with, show me what you’ve been working on.”

Mumbo perked up at that, like he always did when Grian asked about his redstone. “Well, you see, since I figured out how to get up into my base, I’ve started working on a way to categorize and organize my builds,” he said beginning to tug Grian along to show him just what he was working on, gesturing as he spoke, “if you break it down to it’s bare components it’s quite simple actually-”

Grian almost laughed at that— simple, as if— but instead he let Mumbo’s words wash over him, nodding and humming as expected. He might not have been picking up on too much of the specifics of the redstone, but it wasn’t like it was something he’d be using himself, the time spent with Mumbo was much more valuable than any redstone engineering.

“—and you’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”

The words Mumbo was actually saying finally parsed in Grian’s brain, after however long of just listening without comprehending, and it made him squawk in offense. “I am too! You’ve got a- um- it’s like… a modified passcode kind of thing,” Grian bit his lower lip, waving his hand a little. “Right?”

Mumbo smiled so warmly at that, and the nod he got almost had him celebrating outwardly too. “Did you guess that, or were you actually listening to me?”

“A little bit of both,” Grian admitted with a snicker, shrugging slightly. “Sorry, I just like being here with you.” He didn’t mean for that to come out as mushy as it did, but Mumbo only looked even happier at the confession, so he didn’t mind quite too much. “Don't let it go to your head,” he tried to save.

“Aw, Grian,” Mumbo wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a side hug even as he pouted. “I like being here with you too.”

Grian huffed, reluctantly leaning into the other, his hesitance more for show than anything else. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he sighed, relaxing even more after a moment. He definitely didn’t stretch out a wing around Mumbo, and thankfully the other knew better than to comment on it, eventually continuing to explain the redstone in front of them; and Grian was actually starting to pick up on a couple of things. It wasn’t like he was clueless about redstone, he’d built a couple of contraptions at this point! He just hadn’t picked up quite the amount of knowledge Mumbo had yet.

“Are you getting tired?” Were the next couple of words directed at him, having Grian blinking his eyes open and lifting his head off of Mumbo’s shoulder.

“Huh?”

He heard Mumbo’s laugh, shaking him awake from his half-asleep daze, bringing him back to reality. “I asked if you were getting tired, but I think that’s answer enough. Let’s get you home, birdie.”

He scrunched up his face at the nickname, which just made Mumbo laugh again. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need to,” he protested, even as he allowed Mumbo to take the lead, undoubtedly leading him back to his base regardless.

“You’ve practically been sleepwalking the past half hour,” he sounded amused at least, rather than bothered or annoyed. “I appreciate the company, especially after so long, but you don’t need to stay up for my sake, G.”

“I can take care of myself, you know,” Grian huffed, falling in step with him, “nobody thinks so but I can, I’m a grown man damn it,” he wasn’t even mad at Mumbo specifically, he didn’t think he could be truly. “I shouldn’t have to be anybody’s responsibility.”

Mumbo was quiet, waiting for him to finish it seemed, because he only spoke when it seemed Grian wasn’t going to continue. “Nobody’s saying you aren’t, Grian,” his voice was purposefully even and patient, ��but you’re going through a rough time, and we don’t want you to come out the other end hurt, or worse.”

He scowled a little at the thought, shaking his head. “But I’m fine now, I don’t need everyone babying me because they’re scared I’m going to- to-” He gestured with his hands, something he couldn’t describe. “-I don’t even know! But I’m not going to, I’m fine!” Even hanging out with Gem earlier, even though she had promised she wasn’t going to treat him like that, there was something unspoken in the air; and now with Mumbo too.

“Grian, I’m not trying to start an argument with you right now,” Mumbo rolled his eyes, Grian was sure of it, even if he couldn’t see it. He was being ridiculous after all. “Everybody here needs a bit of help sometimes, you just got unlucky enough that everyone else noticed, instead of just me or Pearl.”

“Scar and Joel and their blabbermouths,” Grian mumbled, kicking at the grass as they continued to walk.

“They mean well,” he was reminded.

“I know, that’s why it sucks that I can’t be mad at them,” he sighed, “everybody here means well. Bane of my existence, being cared for,” he snorted, even if Mumbo didn’t laugh with him that time.

“Grian…”

“I just wish you guys would tell me when I’m too much, I know I am sometimes,” he pouted, “I’ve been told before.” Mostly it was just when a prank went a little too far, and he had to help clean up and was told not to do it again. Which was just fine and totally fair, he just wished they’d do the same here.

“Grian, that’s not-”

“I wouldn’t get upset, even! I’d rather you guys tell me instead of working so hard to coddle me,” Grian cut him off. “Let me handle myself before I scare everyone away,” he sighed, voice dropping in volume as he crossed his arms tightly, almost hugging himself. “Sorry.”

Mumbo stopped walking, turning to face him again, and Grian couldn’t help but shrink even more under his gaze. “Grian…” Hands on his cheeks gently tilted his head up, forcing him to make eye contact as much as he was trying to avoid it. “Everyone’s trying to help because they want to, not because they feel like they have to. We like you, you’re our friend, and we hate seeing you hurt. I know you have a hard time accepting it, but you deserve it, okay? You’re not too much, and you’re not scaring anyone away.”

He wasn’t going to cry, he refused. He sniffled softly, looking away. “Okay.” Grian took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment. “... Thank you.”

“Any time, G.” Mumbo’s hand found his shoulder again, just a gentle pressure that soon slid off. “Will you be okay tonight, when you get home?” Alone remained unsaid, though implied.

He opened his eyes again, meeting Mumbo’s eyes on purpose now. “I think so, yeah. You could always check in on me tomorrow, make sure I’m not getting up to any trouble?”

That made Mumbo smile again, easing the growing tension. “You are known to get up to trouble, true. I suppose I better put it on my calendar.” 

Grian laughed, finally starting towards his base again, checking behind himself to make sure he was being followed. “Don’t lie to me, you don’t have a calendar.”

“I could! You don’t know that,” Mumbo protested, then after a moment or two he sighed, hanging his head. “No, you’re right. I don’t.”

“I know you,” Grian scolded, snickering softly, he almost didn’t notice as they finally made it to his base, sun setting in the distance. “... No more avoiding me, okay?”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” Mumbo’s answer was immediate, then he looked a little guilty again. “No, I… I’m sorry. I’ll be over tomorrow, I promise.”

He smiled softly, nodding. “Good, I'll hold you to that,” he hummed, hesitating before giving Mumbo a quick hug, pulling away just as quickly. Mumbo had his own smile back, and Grian considered that a success. They split easily after that, Mumbo headed back to his base as Grian made his way up into his own.

Honestly, he was almost too excited to sleep. He found himself in his bed too easily, comfortable under the covers, but otherwise tossing and turning, thinking about tomorrow. It was a little ridiculous, he thought, they hadn't even made proper plans, but he couldn't help it, eager for things to be like they were again.

He was finally pulled out of his futile attempts at sleep by his comm going off, notification distinct from that 

samgladiator: hey. i know youre ignoring me and that's totally fine and i get it, i promise.

samgladiator: but ellen found out i had your comm address and basically begged me to let you know they say hi, lol. they said they miss you

Grian's stomach lurched, and he quickly hit the power again, turning off the screen. No, he wasn't thinking about this tonight. He took a deep breath, holding it in. He hadn’t spoken to Ellen in ages, he’d wager it had been over a decade even. They still thought about him?

He let out a slow breath, feeling his heartbeat slowing just a bit, he hadn’t even noticed how much it had sped up in the first place. He wasn’t going to freak out, he refused. Grian took another deep breath, setting his comm aside as he continued breathing deeply, laying back onto his bed.

Tomorrow. This was all a problem for tomorrow.

[cardcatcardboard]

Febuwhump Day 26 - Concealing An Injury

cw // Yealling? idk (lmk if there should be anything)

Words: 1000 (:D) Fandom: Life Series/Hermitcraft Character(s): Grian/Scar Ao3 Version Here! @febuwhump

Once again, idc what day it is for you, it's still the 26th in my timezone, meaning our daily grind is still on

~\/~

When Grian came to join Scar on their joint patrol, Scar could immediately tell something was wrong. 

It was a small thing that any average person wouldn’t notice, but Scar wasn’t an average person. He was Grian’s partner—both in heroism and in romance—and he knew how haphazard Grian could be; it was basically his job to make sure his partner hadn’t somehow hurt himself randomly and didn’t notice or didn’t bother to help himself.

“Grian, did you hurt yourself on accident again?” Scar asked when they were paused on a rooftop after he’d been watching Grian stumble through every jump.

Grian might’ve had the best poker face Scar had ever encountered, but his wings never seemed to be able to get with the program regardless of how much grian worked on it, and the way they puffed with the question gave away his next lie.

“Oh, yeah! Just got hit on the side in my apartment earlier, might’ve bruised something,” he replied, and it probably would’ve been convincing to anyone who didn’t spend almost any waking hour with him.

Unfortunately, Scar spent almost every waking hour with him, so it was not convincing, and he simply gave Grian a gentle but disbelieving look. 

Grian’s feathers puffed even more, further giving himself away as he tried looking anywhere but at Scar, until he eventually did break with a squawk of frustration.

“How can you read me so well? It’s unfair!” he exclaimed, trying to stomp around like a petulant child, but Scar didn’t miss the wincing hiccup in his step.

Scar sighed. “First off, your wings make it hard for you to keep secrets. And secondly, Grian, you’re hurt, what happened?” he asked, leaving less room for argument in his tone. 

As he came closer to his partner, he could easily pick apart Grian’s body language through years of practice, even if he was facing the ground. He put a hand on Grian’s chin and pulled it up so they could look at each other, but Grian almost immediately pulled away. 

“I am always the one getting hurt here, and it’s almost always my fault!” he said harshly, his wings bristling in an upset manner as he began to pace despite his limp. “I’m not sure if you knew this, but the committee has already considered removing me from the roster because of my accidents, and I was definitely not supposed to know that.

“The last thing I need is to make you or one of them aware of further issues, because then you’ll get onto me about caring, and then the committee will continue to realize I am a bad option to represent them as one of their public faces. I can take care of myself! And I need to prove to them that I can take care of myself and stop being hurt or else both of our livelihoods are bound to come crashing down because there’s no way they’d want to keep you as apparent as you are if your ‘other half’ isn’t with you, since it sometimes seems that’s all I am to them—just ‘HotGuy’s Partner’ or ‘HotGuy’s Buddy’ or whatever other variations the press can come up with to erase my personality because I don’t fit their image of ‘peak masculinity’ despite being a literal superhero.

“I don’t want you babying me! I don’t want them dealing with my issues! I don’t want my problems to interfere with us!”

Grian was breathing hard once he was done, and it didn’t seem to take long before he realized he’d said too much, burying his face in his hands with his wings moving to wrap around him as they sometimes did when things were overwhelming. 

Scar gave him a few moments of space before approaching, grabbing Grian’s wrists carefully and pulling them away. He didn’t need to push Grian’s face upward this time, his partner looking up all on his own. 

There was a mix of anger, despair, and hopelessness in his eyes, and they were slightly red from where he’d been pressing his fingers just moments before. 

“I hear you, birdie,” Scar muttered, letting go of Grian’s wrists and pulling into an embrace instead. “We won’t let them do anything to you, though. And if they do, we both know how to give them hell, yeah?”

He felt Grian laugh slightly, which was a step forward.

“Sounds like they made the wrong guy top hero,” he said, his voice muffled.

Scar hummed with a smirk. “Can’t take it back now, I’m afraid, the public would be in an outrage if either of us suddenly vanished, I think.”

They stood in silence for a little while atop the building until Scar remembered what got them into this whole mess in the first place and he pushed Grian back to look over him, shifting his hands to Grian’s shoulders. 

“Where are you hurt?” he asked. It was most likely somewhere in his lower body since it seemed to affect his legs a decent bit, but it wasn't directly on his legs because he still had a decent bit of mobility. 

Grian used his hands to pull at his tight top, moving it upward and revealing a large bandage that wrapped around his whole torso. It had red spots on the outside, meaning blood had begun to seep through. 

That was enough.

“We’re going back to the apartment,” Scar stated without space for debate, grabbing one of Grian’s hands and pulling them to the fire escape on the side of the building. “You clearly need a dressing change—you've bled through if you didn’t know—and you shouldn’t be patrolling with that kind of injury anyway.”

Grian sounded like he would try and protest for a second before he made the better decision and just went with his partner, fully aware that no amount of resistance would change Scar’s mind.

It was still kind of nice, though. He didn’t appreciate when Scar babied him, but he did still like knowing he cared. 

[demise-seems-dead]

fic snip

little segment from a fic im gunna post soon for ye old tumblr people because i am so un normal about torchy, actually.

(tw: intrusive thoughts sorta, hallucinations, vague description of illness ig?)

The counter is ticking.

Tango lets himself breath, twisting the torch he has held in his hand nervously between fliterry fingers as he walked himself away from skizz. A timer, nay, a heartbeat rang out under his eyelids, pulsing out. One.. two… three. 

With a thump, a book lands by his feet. He breathes, and bends over to pick up the shiney purple blue leather bound book. His fingers dust the cover, and nasuea begins to tumble in his stomach as he goes for it nervously. He picks it up, and with a flutter of his eyes,, pulls open the cover to stare at the page in the book.

Concerningly, his eyes are met with nothing. Tangos fingers of his right hand trace down to his belt, going to nab his comm out of his side pocket to text grian. A voice breaks his monolouge. “Hey, pal, don't worry about that!”

Tangos head hurts. In a sudden burst, a gun shot rings in the back of his head. He tips his head back, letting out a soft stifled groan and blinking away the white eplosions. He looks around for the unfamilair voice. His eyes sweep over, and he spots skizz with his nose stabbed down into his own task book. He then looks down, and sees the unlit torch in his hand is now ablaze, yet glowing from every surface, including the wood. Tango swivels his head around again, and back down to the torch.

“Yup, you got it. Hey pal, yeah, its me, the torch!”

“Am…i having a stroke?”

  The torch vibrates in tangos hand, and glows brighter. “No no my friend. No issues here. Im just here to help. Concider me your friend good ol’-”

“Torchy. Why do i remember that?”

“Because youve been a very good player, tango. So good at remembering your firends” Tango stares at the torch, then to his book. “Why.. is my book empty?”

“Oh, don't worry about that, pal. Let torchy handle it. Don't worry about what your task is. Concider me your task. Catch up with me, talk to me, tell me everything you need to…get off your chest tango. Im here for you now. Your task is to reunite with your good old friend torchy, and here we are!”

Tango lets out a sigh, feeling as though his skin is crawling with a million bugs. The weird nausea of anxiety that comes from every task has spread up his chest, and the gunfire in his head begins to throb. Instinctively he reaches out to the bed frame hes standing by the brace himself. His hands look really off-coloured. “I don't,... feel very well. I should go talk to skizz.. Or grian, tell them i don't feel well enough to compete.”

“Oh no no no, tango, relax! Think about it. Skizz is got to be so stressed out with his task and with you and the other players, and grian is runing everything. Why bother them with something so little? Just try and relax, and don't eat or sleep for a bit incase you are unwell, and leave it at that.”

Tangos shoulders relax. “Alright.. I shouldn't worry them. They already have enough on their plates as is. Its just.. Im just a little queasy. Nothing to… worry about.” Tango lets his eyes droop, twitch in his fingers gone. Distantly, he hears skizz say his name, and makes the decision to go back up to the top of island.

~~~

Torchy talks a lot. 

Tango isnt a stranger to people who talk a lot, heck, hes buddied up with skizz this season, he knows that there are some people who talk a lot. Torchy, however, is a different level of a lot. Always talking that torchy. 

Tangos day sits at a whisper, for the most part. He spends most of it doing what his inbisable task is, catching up with a friend. Catching up with torchy. It should feel easy, but something about talking to torchy has him on edge. Something about the way it quakes in his hand and into his head, and the way hes alwas talking about something or earily silent,

Torchy has been trying to convince him to pull away from skizz for a bit more the last half hour or so, but he's trying not to. He likes torchy, really he does, but something about him makes tango anxious.he doesnt want to be alone with torchy.

“Tango..” the sentient light ficture says in a sing songy tone. “Trying to run off again with skizz, are we?”

“What? No! Of course not! What would.. Ever make you think that?” A nervous laugh tenses on the cusp of tangos lisps as torchy vibrates in his hand, shaking violently, as if it was angry. The glow he gives off tricks slightly purple in the nights shushed air. “Oh, tango. I know whats going on inside your head. Don't worry. Im your buddy. We are friends, arent we?”

“Yes. were friends.” Tango said, and his voice demaneded the thought to be voiced. It wasn't a thought that could be intercepted or disputed, and it just slipped straight out without permission. 

“Than stay with me! Skizz doesnt want you to bother him.” 

“I guess he doesnt. He's got a lot of building to do, r-right?” “Right. So how about we go on a little walk, huh?”

“Okay.” Tango rises to his feet, shoes digging into the soft watterlogged grass around love island. His feet carry him to the water, and he dips down into it. His feet ground into the silt at the bottom of the lake, and his toes run cold with the icy flooding water. It swishes around, like big hands trying to reach out for him. His pant legs soak, getting heavy. His fingers twitch, and he lets them both stare out into the abyss. Tango raises torchy up and way from the water, sinking both of them deeper into the water. His chest squeases as the water laughs and singles, bubbling and brookoing into a big circle. The air bubbles as he sinks, as the water rises over his chest disolve. He lets his feet drift up into a swim. He goes forward, shifiting one hand repeatedly into the blur, moving forward. Cutting and gliding through the swirls of the vastness. 

For a moment, their world seems to fade as tango moves through the wateer. Its singing grows louder, reverberating around the earth, and pushing back the trees and the grassa and the world. The water grows darkerm perhaps more cold as well, as tango pushes and throtles against the lungs of the land, of the water. 

Dark yearning amber eyes stare up betwwen the folds of the lapping nulls hes sunk into, and yet it doesnt matter to them. It doesnt matter to them. Fianally, he pulls out and away. His body cascades, breaking off into different pieces as the wet damp clothes sog off him, and as the water drips off of hi- them. 

Tango keeps moving. Torchy smiles and he can feel it in the warm buzzing of his hand.

“Oh, good job keeping me dry, tango! Your a real pal!”

“Only doing my best.” an uncomfortable grin spreads over tangos face, veering each corner of his mouth upright without much effort on his behalf. Without any effort, actually. He didn't smile conciously. 

…huh.

They begin to walk. Tango feels heavy and stiff, and the crooks of his elbows and knees are starting to feel achey with the chafing motion of wet clothes on him when he moves. His fingers are so tightly rapped around torch(y), and yet so cold despite being right next to a flame. He doesn't think he could move them if he wanted to, but he wont let his mind dwell.

His mind cant dwell.

his mind can't thi-

His heart wont stop moving in his chest, moving around like a screen saver beating against his ribs. A big overtaking smile beams over his face. A song flows to his heart and his feet skip against the dull yellow singing licks of nature hidden in the grass. 

it feels so good to be hanging with his pal torchy!

does he even really need anybody else???

[lifeofalegacy]

Life of a Legacy Chapter 6

Maybe Grian was going crazy, because he just couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation he’d had with Scar from running through his head. 

They’re exactly what this city needs.

No, he really wasn’t. 

Hot Guy had been handling the city just fine by himself for 5 years now, and it wasn’t like everyone was itching to have a new addition to his team. They were all just freaking out over someone who was like a legend, a ghost. They were expecting a ghost who knew what she was doing. 

And all they had gotten so far was her son with confidence issues. He’d helped out with the fire, sure, and even if he was immensely proud that no one had died from the incident, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t in the future. And would he be able to handle that? Grian was just himself, not a myth, not a legend, not a hero. 

He’d just been desperate to make sure his brother was safe. That didn’t make him a hero. 

But he’d seen the newspapers, the magazines, the segments on tv talking about him. No matter how he’d try to avoid them, not let the intrusive thoughts get to his head, Grian couldn’t help himself. People sung his praises for his actions, and that turned into confusion when he, Xelqua, disappeared again. 

The first time Xelqua disappeared from the city was 6 months before he was born. When he’s gotten old enough to ask his mom about it, she said he was one of the most wonderful surprises she’d ever had, and realized things needed to change. This city was her home, her utopia, for so long. After the Reckoning, when her feathers began to molt and crumble and fall out, she desperately wanted to keep it safe. She was everything a hero had needed to be, selfless, brave, kind.

Grian disappeared because he was reckless, impulsive… selfish. He wasn’t her. He could never live up to Xelqua. But, for the first time in his 29 years of life, maybe he wanted to. 

And he had no idea how to start. 

“Pros and cons…” He muttered to himself, finally focusing back on the view outside his window after staring at it blankly for probably 15 minutes. Below, night shift workers hurried to their jobs, corner store owners were closing up for the night, and a few wayward cars were trying to see if any hotels had availability. Taking a step backwards, Grian began to speak. “Pro: Flying is cool. You’ve wanted to do that your whole life, and this is the only way you get that chance. Con: You don’t know how to fly properly, especially not the landings.” His wings still itched from his crash landing, the feathers finally growing back and covering the scabs across his skin. The twinge in his shoulder hadn’t faded yet, unfortunately. 

“Con: You get hurt.” It was a fact, he’s seen plenty of reports on what happened to Hot Guy when he lost a fight. “You can get hurt pretty bad. I do not like pain.” Picking up the newspaper on his coffee table, he flipped it open to a random page, trying his best to seem nonchalant about this whole crazy idea. It was an article about the fire, a picture of Gem tightly hugging Jimmy as the flames burned behind them. “Pro: other people don’t.” 

It couldn’t be that simple, could it?  

Pearl would know what to do right now. This was what she had always wanted: the chance to follow in their mother’s footsteps, be a hero she would be proud of. Grian had indulged her, joining her in her martial arts classes as a sparring buddy. He’d never been able to beat her, losing every single organized spar tournament. That wasn’t to say he was bad at it, just never as good as Pearl. 

Was that what was stopping him? 

“It should be her.” No matter what he did, it was always supposed to be Pearl. She should be the one taking on the torch, going out at night and protecting people, just like she’d dreamed about since she was young. The city was her lifeblood, and Grian had seen it everyday while she was alive. Making friends with strangers, building relationships, fixing whatever problem came her way. But she never got that chance.

She was gone now, and that pain stuck with Grian. When Town Hall burned, all he wanted to do was to avoid feeling that again. Grief was awful. It ate him alive, rotting everything he was until he was just a shell. 

He didn’t want anyone else to have to feel that way again. 

What the city needs.

By the time Grian had snapped out of his spiral, he found himself in his room, staring at the box on the nightstand. There wasn’t a reason to hide it from himself at that point. When he reached towards it, his hand shook, and he realized just how hard his heart was beating, pounding in his ears. With a gentleness reserved for the dead, Grian opened the box and picked up the heirloom, feeling the buzzing sensation in the back of his head spread to the rest of his body. 

“That’s not concerning at all.” He groaned. That feeling hadn’t faded after the fire, and, in fact, had only gotten stronger after his last soar around town. He didn’t truly understand how or why the microphone worked, never thinking of asking those kinds of questions when he had the chance to. 

Pushing down his nerves, Grian made his way to the roof of his building, glad to once again find it empty. But also unsurprised considering it was midnight in the middle of the week. 

“How do I do this?” He asked himself, creeping over to the corner of the building, looking down at the world. “Fly around aimlessly? Follow cop cars?” That buzzing prickled into a point, and Grian’s head shot up to see a small orange and blue figure shoot across the horizon. Huh. “That’s an idea.”

Hot Guy seemed relatively fond of him, or hopefully he still was after Grian completely blew him off during their last conversation. He did feel a bit guilty about that, in retrospect. The guy was just trying to make sure he was doing well, and also to assess any type of threat Grian posed to the city. It was actually really sweet. 

“Follow the hero.” He tightened his grip on the microphone in his hand, raising it up to inspect it. The last two times he had used it had mostly been on accident, playing purely into instincts that weren’t really bubbling up this time. Mostly it was just nervousness churning in his stomach, doubts swirling in his head. 

It didn’t respond. 

Grian frowned, bringing the heirloom up to look at it closely. He could feel that it was working, little zaps zinging across his skin and muscles, but he couldn’t feel anything deeper than that. His hand still shook. 

“Come on, I’m willing this time!” Wow, he was going crazy this time, wasn’t he? It was one thing to speak to his cat, or himself, but it was something completely different to be talking to an inanimate microphone. He tried to ignore that. “Really, I want to help! Hot Guy can use a partner, someone else to protect people.” 

He hit it against his palm as if it were a broken toy. That got him an aggressive zap. “Ok! Got it! Don’t manhandle the equipment!” Glaring down, he tried to remember what had caused it to activate. “Uhhhh. In times of great need, a great power will emerge?” It was weak, everything about it. Nothing happened. 

Had he missed his chance? 

That one thought sent him spiralling, and before he could stop it, words started flowing out of his mouth. “I know I’m not Pearl, okay? I’m not the best suited for this job, I don’t have the drive for glory, or the skills, or the passion like she did, but I’m here. And I want to do this.” He took a deep breath. “I think I want to help people. And I know I’m still not sure, but I am willing.” No desperation leached into his voice this time, and he felt his frantic heart beat slow. “I’m scared. But I want to try.” 

A faint glow spread from his hands, and Grian’s eyes widened in surprise. Was that really all it took? The buzzing spread across his whole body, and that toxic purple light began to burn just behind his eyes. Heat radiated out of the microphone, burning his hands in agony. 

Oh.

Con: He hated this part. 

There was less of a rush this time, lacking the same kind of frantic change he’d experienced the last two times. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Having your body inexplicably rearranged molecule by molecule, bone by bone, was agonizing any way you cut it. Grian managed to hold in his scream of pain as the heat flooded his body, feeling the weight of everything come crushing down on him. 

The ache it left in his head really made the buzzing sensation suck even more, and he winced against the bright moonlight when he could bare to open his eyes. Once again, he was kneeling on the ground, little shocks of pain still radiating through him. Not feeling any need to rush it, Grian felt his joints pop and shift as he pushed himself to his feet. 

Taking a few cautious steps, he tried his best to adjust to the weight of his wings and the small (large, any change was large) changes that his body had been forced through. They caught the wind, easily pulling him over towards the edge of the building, and his heart began to pound. 

Maybe his need to fly was selfish of him, but Grian suspected that it would never truly go away, no matter how hard he tried. So, with no time like the present, the new hero stepped off the edge. 

The wings stabbed when they caught the wind, jerking up just a little too hard to be smooth. Grian really had to work on that. But, the moment passed, and that stabbing sensation turned into a dull throb of pain, unpleasant but manageable. With a careful shift of his feathers, Grian angled himself towards where he’d last seen the hero, and shot off towards his target. 

However, a concerning sound began to ring out against the city. Sirens, and lots of them. Looking around, Grian spotted at least five flashing lights shooting through the city streets, and a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. Coming out from behind the tallest buildings in the city center, Grian immediately understood why.  

Another fire. 

Well, this is what he’s signed up for, right? 

With a deep breath to calm his shaking hands, Grian angled his feathers the best he could, and shot off towards the scene. 

---

Scar? Scar, are you there? Cub’s frantic voice came from his headset, but the hero couldn’t bring himself to answer. 

For a long time now, Scar thought that nothing Hot Guy was exposed to could have surprised him any more. He’d been around the block multiple times, fighting criminals, saving children, stopping monster invasions from outside the city. All of it was a mental cakewalk now.

That false confidence disappeared in an instant. 

In Scar’s experience, most hybrids still looked human, the exceptions few and far between. Even then, they at least looked like they belonged to this world. But this? This wasn’t like anything Scar had seen before. 

The creature’s body shifted amongst the flames, large appendages sticking out at awkward angles, shielding its face and torso from the hero. When it moved, Scar could practically hear the popping of its joints alongside the crackling of the fire as if the two were one and the same. It disgusted him, and he tried to take a step back. 

In that moment however, a deep, loud buzzing shot through the back of his head, and Scar's hands came up to cover his ears on instinct. It rattled his skull, filling every fibre of him with pure agony and despair that leached into his heart. He could feel his eyes shaking, and his concentration slipped as his legs were slipping out from under him. 

All the while, the creature crept closer. 

Its prey was truly trapped in his mind, and unfortunately for Scar, he was first up on the menu. His heart stuttered. Fear replaced any logical thoughts.

There was no way for Scar to know it, but at that moment, the sirens that haunted the streets grew closer and closer, their flashing lights shining against the wet pavement of the city. People began to leave their apartments, watching the spectacle happening right before their eyes. None of them seemed to spot the man fighting for his life as the flames tried to grab him. 

They all noticed when the third floor collapsed. It sank first, the glass shattering into a million fire-catching lightcatchers found across the street. In another world, it would have been beautiful. Some people began to scream as the ceiling collided with the second floor, causing an avalanche of burning rubble to tumble to the ground. Right where their beloved hero was standing. 

At the last possible second, a streak of red and pink shot down from the street, hitting the hero hard and sending them both skittering across the uneven cobblestones. The printing shop collapsed completely onto where Hot Guy had been standing. 

The hero instead found himself 50 feet away, trying his best to suck air into his lungs. He’d been snapped out of whatever stupor he was in when he lost sight of the creature; the terror and horrible memories fading back into his shaken mind. The impact had hit Scar like a truck, and he was 99% sure that at least one of his ribs were broken, not to mention the significant amount of road rash he could feel against his upper back. 

Next to him, he could hear someone else struggling just as much, coughing and wheezing. Trying his best to not shift anything internally, Scar creaked himself into a sitting position, and managed to look over towards his savior and assailant. 

Xelqua. In the flesh, and they did not seem to be doing well. Scar cringed as he spotted similar road-rash across their right arm, pink fabric ripped away against their fast slide. Their eyes glowed a frantic purple behind the black mask and shadows that covered the upper half of their face, and their chest stuttered in shallow breaths. 

“Hey.” If the other hero went down now, then this would turn from a bad situation into an awful one. Hot Guy carefully placed a hand on the other’s arm, “Come on now, breath. You can do it.” 

Those eyes turned to him, and Scar could see the confusion about his panic. He knew the feeling well. But he could also see those eyes begin to fade, not enough oxygen reaching where it needed to go. 

That was really not good. In a moment of desperation, because the new/old hero really didn’t seem to like him after the stunt he pulled on the rooftop, Scar picked up Xelqua’s hand, and found it softer than he would have expected. Careful, he placed it against his own chest. “Do you feel that? Can you feel me breathing?”

The other nodded faintly.

“Then just copy me, ok? You’ll be ok, I promise.” He took long, deep breaths, mentally checking in on the rest of himself. Getting hit at full speed by a swooping avian resulted in more damage than he expected. 

The winged hero nodded carefully, and his breathing began to slow, his eyes focusing into this world once more. Finally, he managed to gasp out, “Are you okay?” 

Scar blinked. Once. Twice. “Am I okay?” He considered the question for a moment, hand still grasping onto the other’s arm. “Thanks to you, yes. But how are you?” 

Mist floated through the air as the fire department got right to work, hammering the fires with as much water as the trucks could manage. Scar turned back towards the scene, eyes straining to see into the building, but the smoke was just too thick. That foreign terror still sent little shocks through his chest, twisting against his skin like it was trying to break free. Beneath him, Xelqua (?) sat up. 

Like the gentleman he was, Hot Guy offered the other his hand. 

“–car? Are you there?”

After the winged hero was stable on his feet, if not a tiny bit woozy, Scar raised his hand, feeling the cracked headset. “I’m here. The building nearby came down on my head, but a familiar face saved me at the last minute.” With a brin grin and wink at the other, “Thank you, by the way.” 

Xelqua scoffed and rolled their eyes. “What? Like I was going to let you die? I’m just lucky I was heading towards this area anyway.” 

“Is that Xelqua?” Cub trailed off. “Scar, are you actually fine? You stopped responding, and every sensor on your suit started to spike out of control. Did you say you saw something in the flames?”

It should have been an easy question to answer, just blurt out that he saw a suspicious person in the building… but as he tried, some force seemed to close his throat, allowing no sound to seep through. At his silence, Xelqua turned to him, their head cocking curiously. “Uh… We can talk about that later.” He managed to rasp out, and dropped his hand from his headset. 

“Oh my gods!” 

Whirling on his heel at the declaration, Hot Guy watched as the fire that should have been well-controlled spit out a large column of flames. Flames that were inching dangerously close to the apartment buildings. Without even thinking, he ran towards the civilians, yelling and waving his arms. 

“Everyone! Back up! Let the fire department work!” 

No one seemed to hear him, the roaring of the flames too loud, the panic too strong. Once again, Scar wasn’t enough. 

---

It was fascinating, watching the other man work. When the fire had sprung to life again, Grian felt his stomach drop, frozen in place as unnatural pillars aimed for residential homes. But the other hero had no such qualms, running right back into danger after almost meeting his end at the hands of a second-floor ceiling. He really was incredible. Unlike Grian. 

Ok, maybe death-dropping from 200 feet up in the air only to smash into someone hadn’t been the smartest idea in the world, but Grian had panicked! Watching the building collapse, only to see Hot Guy not moving really kicked his ass into high gear, and he moved without even thinking. Overall, it worked out pretty well! Even if his already messed up arm was burning something fierce, and his head was spinning with colors that he couldn’t quite identify. But those were problems for later. 

Because as he looked to the hero for guidance, all he saw was that the people weren’t leaving. Even through the heavy rain, it was obvious that Hot Guy was trying to evacuate the street, but no one was paying attention. And the fire was growing larger, no matter how the fire department attacked. Quickly, Grian made his way over to Hot Guy, ignoring how his head spun.

“There’s something really weird going on!” Grian yelled. 

Hot Guy turned over to him, pulling out his bow. “No one can hear me!” One of the truck's hoses ran dry, and the flames sent out crackling sparks. “There’s an evacuation site over on Tenth street, and we need to get everyone over there.” Even though Hot Guy’s voice was strong, Grian could see the way his hands began to shake, grabbing an arrow. “Think you could help out with getting the message through to them?” 

Once he had time to reflect on the night, Grian would be embarrassed about the long pause it took for him to realize just what Scar was asking him to do. That came to him with a small “Oh!” And he reached down for the microphone looped on his belt. As he picked it up, Grian couldn’t help but notice the new red cord sticking out the bottom of it, allowing him to wrap it around his wrist. Hot Guy watched him curiously, inspecting the way he picked up this weapon that should be familiar to him. Those eyes moved to his face, an eyebrow cocked. 

Grian steeled his nerves, and threw on a smile that he was hoping looked confident instead of panicked. “Of course!” 

Steeling himself for just a second before, with one last glance over to the other hero, Grian leapt into the air, snapping out his wings and pushing as much air down as he could. Trying not to think about it too hard, he righted himself, and hovered there. He raised the microphone to his mouth. All conversation died down. 

In that moment, Grian wouldn’t think about what he looked like to the people on the ground. Wings spread wide, illuminated by the light of the fire behind him, a hand outstretched to the people. A myth. A legend. 

It had been a long time since anyone had seen someone flying in this city. 

“We need this area to evacuate! The fire is trying to spread, and all of you are at risk. Please, listen to us!”

Bile tried to rise in Grian’s throat. The voice that came out of the microphone didn’t quite sound like him, and suddenly brought to the surface a lot of bad feelings that Grian was completely unaware he could have. He hadn’t noticed it when he spoke to Hot Guy, or when he was yelling for Jimmy, but it was all he could hear. His heart wasn’t truly him either, pounding in his ears. He’d been changed.

This wasn’t him. 

Hot Guy didn’t allow him to have a moment of rest though, as the arrow he had set to fire in his bow began to glow. Firing it off, it let out a bright path of something behind it as it flew, lighting up the sky. It stuck in a building with a heavy thunk. 

“Follow the trail!” He shouted, and the people turned to him, attentive, expecting. “If you need help, tell us now! The fire department can help evacuate the buildings, and we can help. Just stay calm, and everyone will be okay.” 

Grian’s heart was trying to beat out of his chest, even as he nodded, scanning the crowd as he lowered back onto the ground. Hot Guy sent him a reassuring look as he stepped in front of the winged hero, taking the brunt of the tidal wave that the people around them formed. Even if it was supposed to be comforting, Grian’s stomach turned at seeing it. He gripped onto the microphone even tighter, as if it could give him some kind of help. 

I am so out of my depth. 

But people needed him, and Grian pushed on. With a trembling hand he hoped no one could see, he stepped up next to the hero, and began to nullify people’s fears and concerns. Luckily, most had immediately beelined towards the evac zone, and those who didn’t had pretty easily assuaged concerns. Pets would be rescued by the department if it came to it. Elderly neighbors were already being helped by their friends and family. 

“Can you help me walk there? I had to leave my cane in my home, and my knee isn’t what it used to be, especially in such cold rain.” An old woman asked, her voice crooning. “My grandson usually helps me with stuff like this, but he’s off visiting his friends tonight…” 

For a second, Grian’s eyes scanned the professionals around them, before stealing his nerves firmly. “Of course. Here, you can hold onto my arm.” He tried not to let his unfamiliar skin crawl as she hung on him.

Hot Guy followed them, watching Grian carefully. A satisfied smirk gracing the face beneath his visor. It was split orange and blue, much like the emblem on his chest. As he scanned for stragglers, he gave the other a satisfied nod, placing a strong hand on the other’s shoulder. 

“There’s not much we can do right now without getting in the way of the firefighters. Good call.” He spoke strongly. He turned his head, and Grian could just about see the beings of a gash creeping up under his visor. 

Grian’s arm was still bleeding, the rain causing it to streak down, catching on the torn pink. 

“No one left behind, right?” His own voice made his stomach churn. But he knew it was the right answer as Hot Guy’s face lit up in a smile. 

“No one left behind.” He repeated. Taking away his hand, he shook his head. “Thanks for the rescue, by the way. I would be pancake guy right now if it weren’t for you.” 

Why hadn’t Hot Guy moved? Now was not the time for questions. “Of course. We all need some help every now and again, I guess.” 

The other hero’s smile turned genuine. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.” 

From the crowd in front of them, a bright green streak emerged. Blonde hair, dark pants, and a thick black headband adorned the man. Matching emerald eyes looked between the two heroes as he flipped open a notepad with one hand, an umbrella in the other, and started walking backwards. 

Hot Guy groaned. “Martyn…” 

“Hi Hot guy. Nice to see you again.” He grinned, before turning his attention to Grian. “Hello! I’m Martyn, I’m with one of the news agencies in the East City. I was the one reporting on the Town Hall fire when you two saved everyone. Do you have some time to answer some questions?” 

By some miracle of self-control, and the largest display of it that night, Grain did not roll his eyes. “We are in active evacuation.”

“No time like the present.” Martyn grinned. “Here, I’ll even help—” He came around the old woman’s other side, and helped hoist her up so she could have an easier time walking. “Now, we’re both heading the same direction!” 

Hot Guy put another hand on his shoulder. “He’s always like this. Unfortunately, he won’t leave you alone till he gets what he wants.”

Grian did roll his eyes that time. “Fine.” 

“Perfect!” Around them, the crowd was thinning out. “So, are you around to stay this time? Many people are wondering if you’re just going to up and vanish again!” 

Ouch.

Grian would always say he had a decent poker face, gained through years of fighting with his younger sister. Whoever broke first would always take the fall for whatever they had done. But that question pulled at it. 

“Let’s keep the more thoughtful questions until the fire’s safe, Mr. Wood.” Hot Guy warned. “Or, I can just remove you now.” 

Wow. With a glance over at the hero, Grian saw he face had gone hard, and could tell Martyn was shaken by the sudden tone change as well. A large part of Grian was really thankful for the change of topic, and another smaller part was really thankful in Hot Guy specifically. 

“Jeez! Okay! Um, how are you liking working with Hot Guy? He’s really a dream boat, isn’t he?” Damn it. This Martyn guy really didn’t know anything about boundaries, did he? Then again, why not have some fun with it? Grian did his best to put a light smile on his face, even as a bright purple was pounding behind his eyes. 

“We haven’t been working together for very long yet.” He purposefully pitched up his voice, into a teasing, lithing tone. “Oh, but from what I’ve seen, Hot Guy’s truly a treat to work with. Just what this city needs.”

He didn’t notice the way the other hero’s gaze turned to him, suspicious and tense. 

Martyn nodded. “Love to hear that! On a slightly different note, since we’re trying to keep things light here, I can see you’ve been doing some modifications to your outfit. From what I’ve seen you kept things pretty consistent in the past, so why the new look?”

What?

Sending the other a confused smile, Grian took a moment to glance down at what he wore. The first time he’d been changed, it would have been a startling, horrifying experience had he not been in such a frantic state. Those times, he had matched his mother, long pink sleeves and sheer overskirt to capitalize on the grace of her movements. She had always loved the color, ecstatic when Pearl had chosen to paint her room that color once she was old enough to choose. 

That haunting outfit wasn’t quite what Grian had found himself in now. 

He hadn’t noticed it on the rooftop, but Martyn was correct. Gone were the slender pink boots he knew, replaced by much chunkier black ones. The pink overlay was shorter, and his shirt hugged his chest less. Huh.

Grian wasn’t sure how he felt about the change. 

This reporter couldn’t know that. 

“Well, it’s good to mix things up every now and again, right?” He tried to keep that twittering tone, even as his stomach turned. “Modern fashions turn, so I might as well too.”

That was close enough to a good answer, right? 

“So, do you still go by Xelqua?” 

Before Grian could even address the amount of terror that question caused him, another loud bang sounded off from the mill. Everyone fleeing turned, and a large fireball had shot up into the sky. Screams filled the air as the ash began to float down onto the neighboring buildings, threatening to take away people’s entire lives. Firemen ducked for cover, their hoses left running on the ground. 

For a second, time stood still. 

And as it often does, chaos broke out in the aftermath. People began to yell, cry, sprint towards the safe zone, all while Grian and Hot Guy were helpless on the street. 

At least, Grian thought he was helpless. 

A firm hand landed on his arm. “You can blow back the flames with your wings.” Hot Guy muttered to him, and Grian’s spine went ramrod straight. “Try getting some air, and then swoop down onto it. I saw a video of Xelqua doing it the other day when she was younger.” 

“Right.” Grian really hoped that the old lady he was carefully guiding towards the evac zone couldn’t hear them. Handing her off to the man in the neon green jacket whose gaze lingered on him for him for just longer than Grian was comfortable with, he turned back towards the flames, and with only a little bit of a stumble, leapt into the air, and began to spiral upwards. 

He really wasn’t confident in his ability to stop yet, most of his landings having resulted in him needing to patch up significant amounts of skin along his arms and back, but he had to do it. After all, if Xelqua could, Grian probably could. 

Looking over the scene of the fire, it was even worse than he thought. From the sky, the flames reached out for the neighboring buildings as if they were arms, ignoring the way the wind blew. Taking great care, he angled himself down, and tried to ignore the way his stomach lurched as the wind blew past faster and faster. In those few seconds, Grian reflected on what exactly the other hero had said, and his stomach lurched for an entirely different reason. 

Hot Guy knew he wasn’t Xelqua.

That buzzing feeling came to a head, and exploded. Grian stopped on a dime in that moment, everything in him locking up in shock. Luckily, that seemed to be the right move, as a tidal wave of air and purple light pushed off his wings, knocking all the sparks and fire away from the residential buildings, even blowing out the flames licking at the top of the printing mill. 

His ragged breath came out in stilled pants as he watched the fire finally begin to die down, any hint of the life he had seen from above fading. Bobbing up and down in the air, the wind changed, and Grian soon found himself covered in lightening smoke, the glow before him dying down. The fire was dying down.

Below him, everyone had evacuated, leaving the street empty sin for the firefighters that were finishing up with the flames. The moon began to peak through the clouds, illuminating the wet streets that reflected the ash falling from the sky. 

What now?

He should find out how Hot Guy knew. That should be like the first priority on his list. But at the same time, confronting the other made his stomach turn. He was really hoping that feeling would go away as he got used to this. 

He wouldn’t need to hover long however, as a bright arrow arched across the sky, sticking into one of the buildings across from him. The very man tormenting his thoughts in that moment easily followed after it, scaling the building as if he were the one meant to fly. Hot Guy’s steps were effortless, gentle, as if everywhere he stepped had the chance of shattering brick. That same gentleness turned towards him once he settled atop the complex, hidden eyes watching the avian carefully. He didn’t make any more moves. 

He was waiting. Giving Grian the chance to come to him. 

“Prick.” Grian muttered in that voice that wasn’t his, and realized he could feel the adrenaline running out, his wings trembling. Someone below gasped as he stuttered and fell a few feet. 

That almost got his fellow hero to move, his hands going for his bow as he took a few panicked steps forward. That… was also sweet. The way he cared. 

Maybe he would regret it come morning. Already his joints ached, and the blood continued to run down his arm in a way that made his creeping skin crawl. But, with a few well placed flaps of these alien wings, Grian soared over to meet him. His landing was not graceful, but he stayed upright this time. 

Those eyes continued to analyze his every movement as Grian straightened out, his wings settling behind his back. 

“Thanks for the help tonight. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.” 

Grian shrugged. “I’m sure you would have had it all figured out. You’re pretty good at this.” 

“Then it was nice to have the help anyway. You know what they say, two is better than one.” Taking a careful step forward, Hot Guy crossed his arms. “Speaking of. I know Martyn can be annoying, but… do you plan on sticking around? After our last talk, you seemed to still be on the fence.” His eyes trailed behind Grian’s face to his wings. “I, for one, would love the opportunity.” 

He flicked out his feather, glancing back at them. “I’m hoping to stick around. It’s not easy, but you already know that… I want to try, I think.” 

Grian was worried. He’d already taken some pretty hard hits, and he could feel all his muscles locking up in agony. But this job was more than just that, wasn’t it? It was dealing with the people, the press, giving up his nights to the city. 

Below, the flames flickered, and went dark. 

He would keep trying. 

“I might need some guidance though,” Just vague enough for Hot Guy to know what he was talking about without Grian having to admit it out loud. 

A low chuckle sounded from the other man. “Eh, you’ve got the basics down pretty well, even if your landings are a bit rough. The people down there already like you, and you’re learning your limits. Most of this is unfortunately just experience. When you first showed up, I thought you’d know that.” 

Grian dropped the pretense. “How did you know?” 

“What? That you’re not her?” 

That stung. “Yes.” 

“You don’t sound like her.” Hot Guy shrugged, and Grian’s stomach flipped. “Not to mention you’re just wobblier than everything I’ve seen, and she’d be what, like 60 now? I know people can take great care of themselves, but you don’t have that kind of worldly view yet. But if I hadn’t been up close to you so much, I wouldn’t have known the difference.” 

Grian let out a joyless scoff. “Well, I’m doing my best.”

“You’re doing great.” Hot Guy said those words with such pride and affection that Grian felt his checks flush. As if he had no doubt that what he was saying was true. “All of those details? Well, it’s good to have a partner.” 

“…Thanks.” A weight Grian didn’t know was there lifted off his shoulders. There was someone out there that he could trust, someone who was proud of just… him. 

People began to come back down the street, filing into their buildings. Hot Guy peeked over the edge, watching all of them with a soft look on his face. “Well, looks like everything here is under control, thanks to you.”

“Us.” 

Hot Guy smiled. “Us.” He shook his head. “But, that means we’re done for the night. It was busy, and it looks like both of us could use some rest.” 

That was the best idea Grian had heard all night. What was supposed to be a night of dipping his toe into the waters had turned into fighting a tsunami. And he kind of felt like he had been hit by one. 

“Goodnight Hot Guy.” 

“Goodnight Birdie.” 

---

Jimmy was getting ready for bed. His day hadn’t been bad per say, but all of the city employees were now being forced to operate out of less than ideal offices. The one he worked for, Office of Protection and Welfare of Children, had been moved into the South City. Besides the fact that it had added an extra 40 minutes to his and Gem’s commutes, both living in tiny apartments on the East side, it was just… sad. 

With a glance out the window, his heart hurt when he saw the empty space on the skyline where his job used to stand. Sure, maybe he’d started there for less than parr reasons, but Jimmy had truly grown to love his job. Most of the children he took care of were in the same situation he’d found himself in. Unfortunately, most were much younger, and lacking an older brother. Those that didn’t find themselves orphaned were worse, abandoned by parents who couldn’t seem to understand that there was no such thing as ‘normal’ children in this city anymore. Most everyone bared some mark of the curse. 

Expect Jimmy. 

The dye on his wings was rubbing off faster than it normally did, and in the fluorescent light, he could glimpse flashes of the golden yellow that marked him strange. Pearl loved to tease him about it when he was very young, calling him a Canary, the birds miners used to warn of certain doom. He tried not to think about how bitter she sometimes was, spitting it out around the time of year their father dipped. 

But it wasn’t as if Jimmy cared much about that date. He’d never met his father. 

Lights from the streets below shined up against his ceiling as he made his way into the bedroom. But just as he reached for his blanket, the phone rang. 

Something high and twittery, made for getting someone’s attention in a crowded space. Jimmy knew it well. 

“Calling me so late, are you? Can’t a man get his beauty sleep?” 

A charmed laugh sounded from the other side of the line. “You know I’d never do anything that you wouldn’t be willing to do. Now, how about we meet? I’ve found something.” 

[whereispearlescentmoon]

A third part to my currently nameless Hermit glitching fic

Part 1 Part 2

Skizz starts his day with wings he doesn’t normally have. Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s always got small, vestigial wings that have little sensation in them. The kind that he easily tucks under his shirt and that are absolutely useless for flying. Normally they’re so small that he barely registers them, at least not any more than someone registers their back.

Today when he woke up at his pyramid, he instead had massive fluffy white wings, and when he struggled to get a good look at them, he found that not could he feel them, he could lift off the ground with them. He nearly flew into his own roof. He was just about getting used to them when the news came over his com that there was a server wide glitch that was making everyone’s hybrid traits act up. Any Hermits still in their right mind were to report to X’s map room to strategize.

To his somewhat embarrassment, Skizz had to go to the meeting without a shirt on. None of his clothes were adapted for wings, and he couldn’t fit these under something like he normally would. He felt a little less alone in his awkwardness when he got there and found Pearl thumping a long wolf tail on the ground, only to lose her balance as the tail disappeared and goat horns sprouted from her forehead. Speaking of horns, where was Impulse? The imp was conspicuously absent from the meeting.

A very shaky X spoke to the group, telling them that a patch had gone wrong and that mob and animal code was currently taking precedent over player code for some reason. His voice was etherial, barely audible if not for the amplification of his helmet, and small tendrils of void smoke seeped out of the seams of his armor. As he finished speaking, he collapsed, Skizz rushing to collect his armor pieces and set them safely down. Luckily, or unluckily, X was no longer in the suit. In his place was a vague shape of void, almost like an end gateway.

“Alright…” X spoke from somewhere in the shape. “I’m not going to be able to do any wrangling myself it seems. I’m going to try and search through code the best I can like this. In the meantime, please try and contain the affected players. I don’t want anyone getting hurt,”

Skizz’s first thought was to go find Impulse. He was barely more imp than Skizz was celestial, he couldn’t be that affected right? He shot off a message in chat, just to check.

*You whispered to ImpulseSV: hey dippledop, where are you?*

Not a second later, his reply came:

*ImpulseSV whispered to you: In the nether. Can’t leave. Started to freeze in the overworld.*

*You whispered to ImpulseSV: ill come keep you company buddy!*

This turned out to be a lie however. The second Skizz stepped through his nether portal, an excruciating pain burned through his body. And burn was quite literal. He could see his flesh beginning to blacken and char, right before he succumbed to it.

*Skizzleman burned to death*

Skizz shot up in his bed, groaning. Ugh, this sucks. Stupid celestial stuff.

*Hypnotzd: You good?*

*Skizzleman: yeah, but I think someone else is gonna have to go after impulse. i got all burnt up*

*Keralis: I’ll get on it after I wrangle Scar away from Doc.*

*Welsknight: focus on that, I’ll deal with Impulse.*

*ImpulseSV: Sorry*

*Skizzleman: not a problem dude. can I help somewhere else?*

*Keralis: Yeah actually. False and Grian are going to tear Magic Mountain up and an elytra can’t keep up. Think your beautiful new wings can handle it?*

*Skizzleman: on it boss*

Alright. Flying. He can handle that, sure. It’s not like his wings are brand new and he’s still learning to use them and is now going to have to chase down two life long experienced fliers.

When he gets there, the situation isn’t quite as dire as Keralis put it. Theres definitely some damage, especially around Grian’s base, but the real issue isn’t any of the builds. Instead, Skizz finds the ground littered with colorful parrot feathers, all dotted with blood. If that wasn’t enough to find them, the powerful screeching overhead gives it away.

The second he enters the air space, False’s eyes are on him. Their blue is distinctly predatory, sizing him up, before in a moment deciding he isn’t food, or at least not worth eating, and turning her terrible focus back onto Grian. For once, Skizz laments not being even more bird like, as he watches the two fight with talons that are typical of Grian, but certainly new for False. Her’s are clearly sharper and more powerful than Grian’s, the weapons of a hunting bird. How is her supposed to break that up?

Grian is losing, and badly, and his squawks are turning into something more akin to screams. His banded wings are fluffed up to the max and missing patches of feathers. His sweater is torn to shreds, barely hanging on. Skizz has to act fast, if he wants to prevent Grian from dying in this state.

He reaches into his inventory for something useful, and thanks the void that he actually has some raw meat on him from the day before when he was testing saturation levels.

“Hey Falsie! Look! Doesn’t this look yummy?” He taunts, pulling out the raw food and flying in circles around the pair. False’s attention is once again pulled to him, and more specifically to the bloody meat in his hand. Honestly, he’s terrified, but it’s the best idea he has. He tosses it to the ground, in the hopes she’ll follow it.

It works, as she launches herself at food, giving Grian enough time to run off and hide somewhere in his base. Skizz has to act fast, and miraculously manages to get the drop on her, trapping her in a cobblestone box without getting hurt. She scratches at the inside of the box, shrieking powerfully. Skizz winces before pulling away.

“Sorry False! I had to do it!”

With that done, he can tend to Grian’s wounds, and ends up bringing him to where some of the other passive hybrids are, a small enclosure that Keralis set up near Scar’s train within walking distance. Doc is somewhere nearby, trapped in a similar box to the one that Skizz had gotten False in. Grian seems content enough to hang out there, even though he could fly away. He feels bad that False had to be locked away, but feels a little less bad when a death message pops up in chat.

*Pearlescentmoon was slain by [minecraft_entity:fox]*

It’s a bugged message, foxes can’t normally kill players. Either Gem or Etho got Pearl good, evidently. He shudders to think of what False might have done if she saw him as prey or a threat.

*Pearlescentmoon: Good news. Respawn works on feral hybrids. Zed had death loop scars.*

Well that would explain just how much blood was spilt around Grian’s base.

*Skizzleman: you okay pearliepop?*

*Pearlescentmoon: I’m gonna take a nap. The shifting has started again.*

*Xisuma: Tpin hrd. ned updts* (typing hard.need updates)

*Welsknight: Following Impulse’s cords, he got pretty far out.*

*Mumbo: Working on getting Cleo contained. Can confirm, respawn works on hostiles too. She keeps burning up before she can get to me*

*Hypnotzd: Jevin is being slippery but it shouldn’t take too long*

*Bdoubleo100: might need some help later with cub from pearl, but right now I’m focused on getting tango*

*Pearlescentmoon: Need some warden taming advice?*

*Bdoubleo100: always.*

*Xisuma: grt. tryn fix it. hrd wn hds g thrgh cms* (great, trying to fix it. hard when hands go through coms)

With nothing more to do, Skizz slides down in the enclosure and starts to film Joel and Scar playing. This is gonna make excellent blackmail.

[hybbart]

Would you ever consider drawing the day when scar had to leave the hospital because of the skulk? I’ve been picturing it in my head but it would be very cool in your style (I’m also a huge scar fan and I love how you draw him) it’s totally fine if you wouldn’t want to draw that though, since it’s not really part of the ranchers’ story

I probably won't, cause I don't plan on doing any flashback days or side art really, and Scar's a character I struggle to draw how I want him to look, but mostly I think whatever I could draw or write is going to be mostly disappointing compared to it being a blank spot. Honestly if I was writing or animating it I would probably just skip over it entirely, have Scar draw a blank on exactly what happen, or something more symbolic and unreal? I think those types of things are scarier that way.

I can give a bit more detail on Scar's whole situation, though, below the cut.

Scar and Cub were buddies pre-apocalypse, specifically Cub was Scar's doctor and they were having a meeting when it all went down.

It was a children's hospital they hauled up in because they specifically wanted to save the medical equipment there for any children that might have survived.

The real reason they didn't clear the place out was because people in story didn't know how the zombie disease or sculk worked. The two were hoping they could maybe figure out a cure before people started figuring out zombies couldn't be saved once zombified.

The sculk came from a lab room Cub was using.

Scar stayed for quite a long time trying to appease Cub's sudden changes but eventually he had to get away or be consumed as well. He spent a lot of time unknowingly making it worse by doing so.

Scar is very much Not Okay with having abandoned his friend, especially knowing what little he knows about sculk (that the host is alive and it is possible to sometimes recover from it)

His experiences with Cub are a big reason he attached himself to Grian and is still trying to find a cure for The Thing We Do Not Mention (Grian's requested phrasing because Grian is also not all too accepting of his precarious mortality). He does not want to lose someone else to it and does everything he can.

Both are quite terrified of the upcoming winter and if they'll get enough sun and heat to keep it at bay.

Grian treats Scar a lot like Tango treats Jimmy, which is to say fretting over him and making sure he's okay while actively ignoring his own issues. He just does it in a much more Grian way.

Part of Scar still really hopes they'll be able to go back and save Cub one day.

[autistic-evil-xisuma]

I LIVE. NEW IMIL CHAPTER. 💥

Fic synopsis: Evil Xisuma is trapped in the backrooms (unreality liminal hell dimension), Xisuma finds a camera card with videos Ex recorded there. Angst ensues. Mind the tags, and please don't read this if you have unreality/derealization issues.

Characters: Xisumavoid, Evil Xisuma, NPC Grian, Joe Hills, Grian

Link to chapter 6 on Ao3 !!!

SPOILERY SILLY DOODLES UNDER THE CUT

Image 1: A chart showing the relationships between the 5 main characters, Ex, Xisuma, Joe, Grian, and NPC Grian. There are simple drawings of their faces with labelled arrows between them to show their attitudes towards each other.

Grian to NPC: naur. not this guy

NPC to Grian: father why?

NPC to Ex: you're insane. we're friends now

Ex to NPC: you're insane. we're friends now

Ex to Xisuma: a one-sided text conversation, the first text says "I miss you", there's a break between them and the next two say "That was a moment of weakness. Fuck you"

Xisuma to Ex: stop making me confront things!

Xisuma to Joe: where. would I be without you. <3

Joe to Xisuma: oh buddy you have things to unpack

Joe to Grian: What are you hiding.

Grian to Joe: don't understand a word you say

Xisuma to Grian: WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU

Grian to Xisuma: LEAVE.ME ALONE

Xisuma to NPC: sillay :-)

NPC to Xisuma: npc rates: 👎👎👎

Joe to both NPC and Ex: need to know your life story

Ex to Joe: who are you

Grian to Ex: STOP INTERACTING WITH THAT BEAST

Ex to Grian: FUCK YOU

.

Image 2: a very simple doodle of moony, a person with long-ish wavy hair, hunched over a computer and looking over his shoulder at the viewer with big sparkling eyes. On the computer is the wikipedia page for maggot therapy.

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Image 3: An edited meme with two drawings edited over pictures of the backrooms. The first is Ex in the backrooms level 2, pale and exhausted with blood smeared on his face, filming over his shoulder at NPC hovering ominously in the hallway behind. In the next image Ex is in the backrooms Hub level, looking more lively and smiling softly at the camera, NPC zipping around in the background. The first image is captioned in all caps "Bitches be like, Can't stand her fake ass!" The second is captioned, "*2 videos later*, Me and the bestie"

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Image 4: An edited text conversation from mangoball.

Grian: You better stay in that damn closet NPC

Ex: Not a very Healthy way to speak to gay people.

[seamgel]

back at it again with more Pirate!divorceduo art :3

them waking up in the morning <33

and also more hcs below the cut !!

Etho wears a mask bcuz of what lies beneath it, burn and lightning scars run across his cheeks and lips, forever scarred and never to be loved

not even the crew have seen what's under there, only Bdubs <33 [also yes this is inspired by And everything around us burn by Magicsings and Graecie HELP]

they're marriage is like that ^ song actually, also it's just a banger go listen to it, and if you know where it's from .....sorry

i want them to have a traumatic moment now lwofjenfomrf

ok but imagine, Etho having nightmares about losing everyone he loves then it happens, they get attacked by what seems to be everything all at once, he sees his crew getting arrested, he sees Carol and Cleo being captured and taken to god knows where, and Bdubs, Bdubs yelling for his husband, getting detained and disappearing as Etho is the last one to stand, escaping through the skin of his teeth

he ends up having to travel alone which feels just horrible and empty as the wind howls through conch shells on the rails, courtesy of Bdubs decorating for their wedding that they never took down

he gathers a crowd of other pirates willing to help, some with a price, others for the adventure

this crew consists of Scar who loves the risk and adventure, Joe and X who are Cleos buddies that are pirates, Lizzie who's upset Joel got caught and didn't reply to her letter, and Jimmy, Jimmy doesn't know how he got here

they get them back and they are happy again with just a little bit of trauma and attachment issues :]]] [as if they didn't have enough already slcindnflowkfl]

also yes big family reunion yesyes

what if [besides Lizzie and Joel] there's a side-ship ? eh ?? :D< i'm just thinking ok like i'm gonna be honest i want flower husbands ok you caught me

also yes Lizzie, Jimmy, Grian and Pearl are sibs ofc

anygays there's your hcs :3

[sparxwrites]

Boys Night (Science Edition)

(a very silly thing based off of my "tango of the tek variety" headcanon post. i keep thinking about all the fun options, so i decided i was simply going to refuse to choose, and let tango torment the other hermits with his frustrating ambiguity.)

[ao3]

“So,” says Zedaph, several beers down and a little bleary-eyed with it. It’s two in the afternoon, but science waits for no man – science, in this case, being an experiment to answer the vitally important question of which of these many extremely cheap beers taste the worst. Anything counts as science if you write it down, and Zedaph’s got a book and everything. His handwriting had deteriorated significantly between beer two and beer five, admittedly, but it’s fine. “Tango. If you don’t mind me asking– what are you?”

Tango, who was only too happy to volunteer to help with this particular experiment, squints at him. “I’m Tango,” he says. “What’re you talking about, dude?”

“Yes, you’re Tango, but–” Zedaph grasps for his words. “You know how Doc’s a creeper, mostly a creeper, and Ren’s a werewolf, and Grian’s–” The word human dies on his lips. “Scar and Cub are vexes, kind of, and… I don’t know, Gem’s a deer, and–”

“She’s not a deer,” objects Tango. “She’s got people hands.”

“Part deer, then, fine. What are you, some kind of bloody peer reviewer?”

“Okay, Mister Smartass. What’s Bdubs, then?” asks Tango, squinting down the neck of his bottle at the dregs of his beer. “And this one tasted like piss, by the way. Actual piss, not just bad. No joke. Next!”

“That’s Doctor Smartass, thank you very much. And grown in a test tube, probably.” Zedaph obediently writes down tastes like actual piss in the correct row of his neat little table, and tosses Tango a new bottle. “Or bred on some really weird farm.”

“Bullshit you’ve got a doctorate.”

“I’m doing science, aren’t I? That makes me a doctor. But that’s not the point. Come on. What are you?”

“I’m Tango,” says Tango, bewildered. “Tango Tek.”

“Yes, but!” Zedaph throws his hands up in the air, exasperated, despairing. “What does that mean?!”

“It means I’m Tango,” repeats Tango, slowly, as though speed is the issue here. Which, given the growing piles of bottles and cans between them, is a not unreasonable assumption. “And I’m of the Tek variety. What’s not clicking here, Zed?”

Zedaph groans, and taps the small surgical scar beneath his left ear. The faint bump of his universal translator module, implanted beneath the skin, is still there, which means he shouldn’t be mishearing. “Is– is this thing working? Is that the problem? Hello?”

“What’re you hearing me say?” asks Tango, leaning back against the crafting table behind him. “Like. Word for word. Lay it on me.”

“I’m Tango, and I’m of the Tek variety,” repeats Zedaph, in an utterly atrocious imitation of Tango’s voice.

“Yeah, yeah, no, that’s– that’s exactly what I’m saying. Can’t help you with this one, buddy. I’ve got many skills, but I can’t cure stupidity. Sorry.” He dodges the empty beer can Zedaph tosses at his head with ease – mostly because Zedaph is on beer six and his aim is appropriately terrible. “You know what? Okay, I’ll admit, I deserved that.”

“Yes. You did. And– again, what does that mean?”

“Well, it means my name is Tango, and my variety is Tek. Like your name is Zedaph, and your variety is. Uhh. Something.” Tango shrugs, and takes a sip of his beer, before pulling a face. “Okay, that one tastes like cat piss. Weird.”

Zedaph notes that down, and does not ask how Tango knows what cat piss tastes like. Not through a supreme effort of will or anything. He just doesn’t want to know. “Right. So what’s a variety, then?”

“It’s a variety!” Tango, finally, seems to lose his temper. “It’s a– a variety, seriously. I repeat, what’s not clicking?!”

“What does that mean? What does variety mean, is it a, a species, or a subspecies, or some kind of scientific classification, or–”

“It’s like– it’s like–” Tango makes a string of halfhearted and extremely vague gestures, many of which look mildly to moderately obscene, for a solid minute. Then he gives up. “It’s like whatever.” When he takes another sip of his beer, his whole face crumples into an unfathomably disgusted expression. “Give me another one, Zed. I’m drawing the line at cat piss.”

“Right. Draws line at cat piss. But not piss. You’ll drink piss?”

“Yeah, sure,” says Tango, with an air of deep resignation. “I’ll drink piss, but I draw the line at cat piss. You may quote me on that, in your little science paper or whatever. As long as you give me a new beer.”

Zedaph obliges, without much objection. Irritating lack of clarity on the definition of variety aside, he’s not going to make his friend drink cat piss. Even if it is for science.

Tango tips his current bottle out into the roots of a nearby sapling, which is undoubtedly going to do very little for the tree’s overall vitality, and cracks the new can open. He takes a sip with the air of a man expecting the executioner’s axe, and then blinks. “Okay! Okay, this one? Not bad! Not bad at all. I’d give it a solid two out of ten, which, given the last two have tasted like some kind of uhh. Bodily waste. Y’know! Improvement.”

“Two out of ten,” repeats Zedaph, making a dutiful note. “So. Okay. Walk me through this variety thing again. Define it for me. Use short words, if that makes you feel better.”

“I’m gonna shove your short words,” says Tango, “up your ass, if you’re not careful. As for the definition– ‘suck my dick’. How’s that?” He raises his beer in Zedaph’s direction, grinning with too many teeth. His eyes hold a warning, a polite threat of friendly violence. “Cheers, dude.”

Ever sensitive to subtle social cues, Zedaph shuts up, raises his beer, and drinks.