#keeps just looking at his lips and grian just can’t stand it anymore when scar licks his lips… so he interrupts himself and places a kiss

[rosaacicularis]

au where scar is the royal guard assigned to keep prince grian safe as he travels to a neighbouring kingdom for a peace treaty but they get ambushed and have to survive in nature until they can get to civilization <3

[justletmeplayminecraft]

Moving Day

it's the day that comes at the end of every season. and yet, somehow, the hermits still get caught off guard by it.

featuring: hermit ensemble, slice of life fluff, imagine moving houses but like every year and a half, werewolf!ren, something!joe, artic fox!etho, he is vaguely developed, there's pretty much no plot, just fluff, an ode to the end of this season

"Zed, you're gonna be late!" Tango calls as he drops in through the ceiling. With a bang, a mop of blond hair pokes out of the central storage. Zed rubs his head, pulling himself up.

"You're the one who distracted me with the Create world!" He replies, hauling a bag up the ladder with him. Tango laughs, throwing it over his shoulder as Zed flops onto the stone ground.

"Sure I was, it's not like you brought it up." Zed huffs, rolling his eyes. He holds his hands up towards Tango, who laughs. "Oh, you want to go over my shoulder too?" He teases.

"You are insufferable," Zed mutters, pushing off the stone himself instead. The cold is starting to seep through his cardigan.

"Have you packed everything?" Tango asks. Zed holds his fingers up to count off.

"Yes, I've checked everything four times! Maybe five, actually. I don't think there's anything left." Zed looks back at the ladders, closing his fist. Tango examines the pile of bags, humming.

"So you're sure you don't want me or Impulse to check for you?" Zed's mouth opens.

"Actually, can you check anyway?" He asks, "You know, just in case!" Tango laughs, giving Zed's shoulder a bump.

"Of course we will. But let's move these before Xisuma forgets them." Zed nods, quick to grab some of the bags. He heaves them up, almost buried under them.

"Season eight here we come!"

-

"You two!" Doc calls, scooping up the white fox before he manages to rush past him. Ren very nearly runs straight into his legs. The wolf sits down, ears twitching as he stares at Etho. Etho sticks his tongue out, Doc struggling to keep a hold on the silky fur. "You two aren't helping, you know that?" Ren barks, tail wagging. "Yeah, yeah."

With a wiggle, Etho manages to slip out of Doc's arms. He jumps up, curling around his shoulders instead and getting comfortable. Doc sighs. He bats Etho's shawl out of his face, ignoring the amused chitter. Counting, he finds most of his bags already in his ender chest. Luckily, because the two animals playing around him are making it difficult. Unlike-

"Doc," Bdubs cries, "Have you seen my razor?" Bdubs doesn't even bother with the door. Doc looks down at him on the lawn.

"Have you checked your half?" He asks.

Bdubs throws a hand up, "Of course I've checked my half, but Keralis tried to drag me into packing all his junk so I had to make a speedy escape!" Doc chuckles, watching as Ren jumps down to nose at Bdubs' hand. "Oh, hello, Ren!" Bdubs jumps into baby-talk immediately, crouching down. "Fancy you being here!"

"Please, take him-" Doc waves, "-The two of them keep running through my feet." Bdubs strokes through the fluff of Ren's neck, glancing up and spotting Etho.

"Oh, Etho as well!" Bdubs waves. Etho yips in reply, ear twitching. Then Bdubs pauses, looking at Ren properly. "Ah-ha, Snips! Of course, right-" Bdubs jumps up, "Thanks guys, I'll see you at the town hall!" Doc looks at Ren as Bdubs runs off.

"You going with him?" He asks. Ren's tail wags, staring at Doc. He sighs. "Right, of course not." Doc picks Etho off his shoulder, dropping him on the floor to a surprised squeak. "If only there was a way to attach some bags to the two of you." Both animalmits freeze, sharing a look with each other. Doc can't help but feel satisfied as they scarper towards the nearest nether portal together. "Perfect." He can finish packing in peace.

-

"Do you think you've got everything?" Wels asks, perched on a chest. Beef hauls his bag out the door with a huff.

"Well, I've got you. That's half the challenge." He looks up in time to see Wels rolling his eyes, pushing his helmet up.

"I take it back, I'm not helping you anymore."

Beef laughs, clapping Wels' arm, "We've still got Three Fox Hole to look through, you're not going anywhere yet." Wels' lips twist into a pout, crossing his arms.

"You know, when I packed early, it wasn't with the intention of doing your packing for you," he replies. But, when Beef holds out a bag, he still takes it.

"And I appreciate it!" Beef grins at him. "Maybe I'll reward you with some of my finest wallpaper-"

"Oh, please no." Wels' eyes are wide, staring in mock horror. "I might never recover."

"Oh, blackmail works too, then." Beef stands, walking past him. Wels slips off the chest, frozen in place.

"Beef- Beef, are you joking?" Beef keeps walking. Wels runs after him. "Beef!"

-

"Thanks for heading out this far, man," xB says, smiling at Keralis. "I know you've got a big space to cover too."

"Ah, it's nice taking a break," Keralis replies, holding one of xB's bags in his arms. "And I know there's no way this would all fit in your ender chest, princess." xB chuckles, looking at the half-folded clothes, trinkets, and daily essentials all sorted into piles.

"Yeah-" he scrubs the back of his neck. "-I kinda forget I've got so much. Too used to my travel bag." Keralis bounces the one in his arms.

"Well, it's a good job you've got me!" He bumps into xB's side, barely knocking the other hermit off balance. "I can always lend you some extra bags if you need them."

"The luggage dimension is just going to be my stuff at this rate," xB jokes.

"Oh, you haven't seen how much I have yet." They both laugh, Keralis putting the bag down with the rest that have been packed. "Now, what are we doing next?" xB turns to observe his piles.

"I think that one," he decides. Keralis nods, skipping across.

"Then let's go, we don't want to be late!"

-

"Cub!" Scar's voice calls down the pyramid. "I cannot believe this." Cub turns to see Scar walking along the corridor, wings fluttering in annoyance behind him. "Xisuma says my crystals aren't essential items so I can't take them. That's so unfair." Cub laughs before he can stop himself, getting an affronted noise from Scar. "Cub! I come here, I confide in you-"

"Scar," Cub interrupts, squeezing Scar's arm. Vex magic sparks around them, electrifying the air. "You could make some once we're in the next world."

"It's not the same!" Scar protests. Cub leans closer.

"Or," he whispers, "We could sneak some across ourselves."

"Oh." Scar claps his hands together. "Now you're speaking my language."

"The language of crime?" Cub asks, calling one of his bags over to him. He catches it mid-air.

"The only language I know!"

-

"This is why you should've made a proper storage system!" Mumbo cries, as Grian pulls out the contents of another chest. "This could've been so much easier!"

"I didn't know it was this bad!" Grian replies, finally managing to find his towels buried in an unmarked chest. He throws them towards his 'to pack' pile, Mumbo jumping out of the way.

"Didn't you have weeks to prepare for this?" He asks, looking at the scattered items in dismay.

"I mean- I did host an entire world in-between," Grian reminds him. Mumbo hums in agreement, deciding to organise some of the piles before they end up vanishing into a pure mess. He looks for similarities amongst the items, beginning to sort them into manageable groups.

Mumbo's lucky he thought to get all his essentials together ahead of time. He gave his luggage to Xisumavoid to store, and he knows it's all taken care of. It didn't stop him from checking his base another ten times, but he's pretty sure he's got everything now. Pretty sure.

He's going to end up checking his base again later, isn't he?

"Grian?" Mumbo asks, pausing as he notices something. The rummaging through chests stops, with only a quiet thud & 'ow' before Grian is looking at him.

"Yeah?" He replies.

"Do you… actually have any bags?"

"Ahhhh," Grian's face turns a similar scarlet to his jumper. "You see, Mumbo, last season, I kinda… borrowed some."

"Borrowed, right." Mumbo sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "Were you ever going to buy your own?"

"Yes!" Grian replies, words fast. "I just. Never had time." Mumbo's had most of his bags since he joined, so he guesses he can't relate. Pretty much all the hermits gifted him one. Otherwise, he would've never remembered at that age, but that's its own problem. It's a good job he remembers the essentials even now.

"So, how do you intend on packing all this?"

Grian hums, "Do you think I could just shove it in there loose?"

"I'll go find some bags," Mumbo decides. And something to help his headache...

-

"How many cats do you think I could smuggle to the next server?" Cleo asks, holding up another of her kittens to Joe. Joe hums thoughtfully, bright green hair moving on its own accord.

"Well, I've certainly smuggled a few of my dogs inside myself." Cleo takes a deep breath, transferring her kitten to one hand so she can pinch her nose.

"Right, of course you have." She's long learnt to stop questioning how Joe works. She's a living zombie, he's Joe. At least it makes packing easier. "I think I might take some of them to my own world, this time," she muses. "Xisuma can do that, right?"

"I'm sure he can," Joe agrees. "If not, I will have a mass exodus of animals from the server." Cleo sighs, rolling her eyes. She sets the kitten down gently amongst the other cats.

"Right, are you actually going to help me carry my bags?"

"Of course! What kind of friend would I be if I didn't try to stop you losing an arm?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." She still can't believe that happened. First, her arm falling off, then nearly losing it amongst everybody's luggage? So embarrassing. She enters the main room of her base, where she's already got her bags set out. It's surprising how many skincare products you need when you're dead. Joe follows, looking around as if he doesn't know the place like the back of his hands. To be fair, Cleo would be surprised if anybody knew the back of Joe's hands.

"Right, I've shoved as much as I can in my ender chest. If you put what you can in yours, we can divide the remainder up," she lays out the action plan.

"Sounds perfect!" Joe picks up two bags. "Are you sure you don't just want me to transport them over?"

"Keep your true self off my stuff, Joe, you know what happened last time."

Joe sighs, "Fine, fine. We'll do this the human way."

"You'll do this the human way," she amends. "I'll do it the zombie way."

-

"Stress, it's only a spider," Iskall says, pointing his sword towards it. Said spider is standing triumphantly on top of her bags, red eyes glinting. Stress pokes around the doorway, brown hair falling across her face.

"Yeah, but it's a spider on me stuff!"

"You've fought worse than spiders!"

"Just get rid of it, Iskall!" He sighs. Readying himself for a fight, he crosses across the room, stamping his foot in front of the pile. The spider hisses, sharp fangs a warning. But when the creature jumps, Iskall's sword is there to meet it, throwing the spider to the ground where it disappears into twinkling orbs.

"Look, was that so hard?" Iskall asks, his hand on his hip as he looks back at her. Stress bounces in, grinning.

"It wasn't, was it? Guess I don't need to thank you, then!" Iskall rolls his eyes, slipping his sword back into his inventory.

"Like you don't need to thank me for helping carry your stuff?"

"Oh, I'll thank you for that." Iskall laughs, grabbing the strap of two bags and throwing them over his shoulder.

"How many trips do you think we'll need?" He asks, seeing her haul two up herself. Stress hums, observing the pile.

"Prob'ly only two or three. If we get started soon then we'll get done faster, too." Iskall can hear the teasing tone in her voice.

"Aren't you the one that was scared of a spider?"

"Don't know what you're talkin' about!" She calls, walking past him. Iskall shakes his head, smiling fondly before rushing after her.

-

"Hey TFC!" False calls, touching down at his base. She smiles at the sight of his usual suitcases, already neatly packed and organized. Everything's labelled in TFC's signature handwriting to boot. Far more planned out than her, she's gotta say. But that's a problem for the next world.

"False, what can I help you with?" TFC's smile is always nice to see. She flicks her elytra closed, waving.

"I came to ask you that, actually," she replies. "Wanted to know if you'd like help carrying things over. I did all my packing a few weeks back, so I'm kinda bored." And if she stays still for too long, X will probably try to rope her into admin duties. Sure, she knows the basics, but she doesn't want to be responsible for anybody's stuff going missing. Not her department.

"Well, I'm never going to turn down some extra hands," TFC replies. He walks over and pats the suitcases on the left. "These are all ready to go, I'm still finishing up with the others. Has Xisuma already started?"

"I think he was just finishing the pocket dimension, so you've still got a little while." The hermits always rush to be the first in, as if everybody's stuff won't fit. In False's opinion, being last is best. It's easier to get your things out when they're closer to the entrance.

"Good, good. Let him know I'm nearly finished, would you?"

False nods, saluting with one hand and picking up a suitcase with the other, "Will do!"

-

Hypno walks into Jevin's base to find him and Impulse slotting the last few items into boxes. He knows Jevin was mostly packed already, so it's nice Impulse has come to help out. But… Jevin might just be taking advantage of Impulse. Hypno won't think too much into it.

"X has finished setting up," he calls, not needing an introduction. Jevin twists to look at him, Impulse busy trying to fit a label on straight.

"So you're saying I'm late?" Jevin asks. Hypno chuckles, deciding to join them on the floor.

"You know what the rush is like to get stuff in. You'll be fine for a little while." Hypno shrugs, "After Wels, X'll probably be careful." Impulse nods, sitting back now the label of 'hoodies' is attached.

"I've already handed my stuff in," Impulse says, "I think False might have too? We both finished up pretty early."

"Yeah, there was a lot in the town hall ready to be moved." Hypno wonders if the hermits are getting more prepared for this. Somehow, he doubts it.

"So, you've come to help me carry these over?" Jevin asks, Hypno looks at the boxes, shrugging.

"With all three of us, it should only be two trips, right?" There are only five boxes, and two are pretty small anyway.

"That's the spirit!" Impulse calls, grinning. "Do you think you're all ready to go?"

"Yep, I think that's everything," Jevin decides. He pats a box, making more of a squelching sound. Hypno does his best not to laugh.

"Then let's get moving!"

-

Xisuma sighs as his visor adjusts to filter out the sunlight. Coding that in was a stroke of genius. It used to be such a nightmare to continuously adjust between the pocket dimension and hermitcraft. He looks at the stacked luggage to be moved, trying to figure out if there's more there than before. He swears there is. And they didn't even say hi when they dropped it off! Rude.

He jumps when something nudges the back of his knees, sending him stumbling forward. Turning, he finds Ren, his tail wagging proudly behind him.

"Oh! Hello there." He reaches down, giving Ren a scratch behind the ears. "Are you planning to change back before we move?" Ren barks in reply. "I'll pretend that's yes."

Turning, he sees a white tail flicking over blue diamonds. Of course, those two are together. Etho's curled up in the sun, black eyes watching the pair. One ear is stuck up, the other flopped lazily.

"You two aren't going to help me carry things in, are you?" X asks, sighing as he looks back at Ren.

"I think Ren forgot to leave a spare pair of clothes out, actually," Etho says, legs dangling off the throne. He's tugging his shawl over his nose now he's in human form. Or, as human as Etho gets. "And his outfit may have experienced some... unfortunate circumstances." Xisuma looks at Ren's sad eyes, shaking his head at the pair of them.

"And those didn't involve you in any way?" X asks Etho with what he thinks is an appropriate amount of suspicion in his voice. Etho holds his hands up, leaning back in a way that would have most people falling over.

"Are you accusing me, Xisuma?"

"I don't know, am I, Ren?" Ren gives a concise nod. Etho gasps, clutching over his heart.

"Betrayed by my own brethren!" Etho cries. Ren's tail is wagging, betraying his otherwise neutral expression.

"Come and help me carry things, you," X says, calling Etho over. "We'll be here for another month if you don't." Etho laughs, but jumps off the side of the throne, landing with barely a thud.

"What are we moving, bossman?" Etho asks. Xisuma surveys the piles.

"Mumbo's stuff next, I think," X decides, "He usually takes a while to unpack." Etho nods, following X's lead as they grab a bag and box respectively.

"So this is what you guys do at the end of the season?" Etho asks, Ren trotting along with them. Xisuma hums as he enters the pocket dimension, finding an open space at the back of the room.

"Yep, this is moving day," he explains. "I always try my best to make it easy for the hermits, but it doesn't often end up working." Etho chuckles, placing the bag on top of X's box.

"Seems like most people aren't done yet," Etho agrees.

"They'll get there," Xisuma replies. The hermits always do eventually.

They're just stepping out of the portal when a voice calls, "I'm not late am I?!" X scruffs Ren's neck, smiling at Zed, who's running over with far too many bags thrown over his back.

"Not at all, friend," he reassures him. Zed drops his bags, bent over and panting. Tango strolls up behind him far more leisurely.

"See, Zed, I said you wouldn't be!" Zed whips in his direction.

"Oh, you, mister 'oh Zed you're going to be late, we're all going to leave you behind', you-" Tango laughs, fluffing Zed's hair as he sets his bags down. They take the rest of his luggage out of the ender chest Xisuma left specifically for this purpose. Beef and Wels walk up together as they do, Xisuma waving to them.

"Beefers!" Etho says, grinning.

"Hey Etho, Tango, Zed, Xisuma." Beef pauses, "Oh, and a Ren!"

"Hey guys!" Wels simplifies, dropping his bags at the doors. "This should be everything from us."

"Perfect!" Xisuma nods, "You guys okay to help me carry things through?"

"Yeah, we can help out!" "That's cool with me."

Moving things goes a lot faster with five of them helping to carry things through. Xisuma just catches Impulse, Jevin and Hypno dropping one lot off, getting a frantic wave before the trio is rushing off again. The pocket dimension is quickly filling up with bags and boxes, the hermits a constant line as they drop in and out. Xisuma frequently checks, but it seems like the dimension is handling the pressure okay.

"Xisuma!" Joe calls, him and Cleo wandering up the town hall's stairs. By this point, Cub and Scar have joined them with TFC, False, Stress and Iskall all dropping things off too.

"Good to see you both," X greets, one of Wels' bags hugged in his arms. He turns away, before hesitating, something nagging the back of his mind. After a second of focus- "Joe, why do you have so many hitboxes inside you?"

"Ah, that's nothing you have to worry about, dear admin." Xisuma gives him a long look and decides this isn't a battle he's going to pick.

"As long as you're willing to help out," he says, instead. "We're only waiting for a few people. He takes a look at the gathered hermits. Cleo's now lying on the floor, Ren beside her. His tail is already wagging again. Cub is picking a box up, whilst Scar skips through the portal holding three bags with magic. Etho's chatting to Tango and Zed as they work.

"Of course! We'll be finished in no time." It's already taken most of the day, but X doesn't need to mention that. He sets his vision back to normal, does another check of the pocket dimension, and returns to carrying boxes.

The remaining hermits trickle in as the sun sets. Stress and Beef sort out dinner for everyone, Xisuma making sure the last of the luggage is safe.

"Wait!" A few heads turn at Grian's cry, heavy footsteps rushing up to town hall. "I- I've got my stuff." Xisuma blinks at the sight of the hermit carrying about four bags at once. One is bright pink.

"You're not too late," X reassures him. "You can just drop it in, there should be room." He's settled into a shaded corner, preparing for the process of safely moving over twenty players. And Joe. If he's being honest, the data is starting to give him a headache. But it'll be worth it once they're all in their new world. Their temporary 'in-between' world is already set up. Somewhere for them all to stay whilst he handles the switch over. Most of the hermits take the time to visit friends or do other projects during that, anyway.

"Thanks, X," Grian says, between gasps. He runs into the portal, X laughing softly to himself. Mumbo walks up a few minutes later, glancing at the group.

"Is Grian in there?" He asks. Before X can even reply, about four hermits are giving an affirmative. "Thanks, guys!" Mumbo heads in after, only two bags in tow. X watches, well-aware of the fondness in his chest. It's a good reminder of just what he does this for.

-

It's another hour until everything's ready. The sun is hanging over the horizon (Xisuma may have frozen the day cycle a while back.) X has watched warily as they've shared food, chatted, played games (including one very dramatic wink murder. He's not sure what happened in Grian's server, and he's not sure he wants to ask.) But now, they've all gathered around, watching as Xisuma enters the final commands.

"Okay, everybody here knows the drill. Stay with somebody else, I want to do a headcount on the other side, then you're all free to wander." He projects his voice, the hermits hushing to listen. "Is everybody ready?"

"Yeah!" "Born ready!" "We've been ready for hours!" "Is there food on the other side?"

X shakes his head. With a final press of the enter key, the portal opens in front of the diamond throne. There's a collective murmur of anticipation.

"Alright, you lot can head through. I'll join you in half an hour, max." He can't even make out words following that. TFC and False are first, walking through with a wave to the others. Stress and Iskall run after them. The rest of the hermits take their time. Some share hugs, some take a last look at the horizon. And Xisuma watches over it all, determined every single one of his hermits will make it safely through.

"X?" Impulse calls. He and Hypno are standing together. The town hall feels so much emptier now the hermits are gone. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Xisuma promises. "All standard procedure. I'll see you soon." They nod, sharing a last smile.

"Okay then. Stay safe, X."

"You two as well. Try and keep the others from misbehaving until I get there."

Hypno laughs, "No promises."

And like that, Xisuma's alone. He sighs, sinking back against the diamond throne. The sun casts golden beams over the land. This has been… a good season. They all are, but. Xisuma smiles as he sets the tick speed of the world to zero, freezing it in time. He thinks next season will be something special. It only takes fifteen minutes to finish his commands, the rest he needs to do on the other side.

"Goodbye, old friend." He pats the diamond throne. With a look over the eerily still shopping district, he sighs. It really is the hermits that fill a world with life, isn't it? "To more admin work," he murmurs, before laughing at himself.

"Shishwam?" Xisuma jumps, clutching his chestplate.

"Oh my goodness, you scared me." Keralis giggles. He's waiting in front of the portal, hands in his pockets. "I thought you went through."

"Well..." Keralis starts, "Somebody said we needed to go through the portal with someone else. And then I thought of a certain admin going through alone..." Xisuma laughs, shaking his head. He joins Keralis, swirling colours reflecting off his armour.

"Of course you did." He takes a deep breath. "Well, I'm ready to go." Keralis wraps his arm around Xisuma's shoulders, squeezing him tight.

"You've done a good job this season, Shishwammy. I hope you know that." Xisuma sneaks one last look out the doorway before they leave this world behind.

"Yeah." He smiles. "I think I do."

[getgoodlol]

A Reluctant Acceptance

this is part two!

heyo! disclaimer before u read; i never claimed to be good at writing. this is purely for fun! i am aware that the hermits are all great people and they're all good friends. i am just playing on the roleplay and the characters they play within the storyline.

this takes place directly after mcr bought the diamond throne w mycelium :>

please never tag this as ship. ty & enjoy!

Bdubs read the words Grian wrote over and over again, trying to process the information. He should've gone straight to Scar, told him all about it, but... instead, he kept dragging his fingers across the leather cover of the thin book. Something was telling him to keep it a secret.

He carried the book under his arm everywhere throughout the day. Even when working on his base, he kept it near by. Every so often he stopped to read it again, as if it would help him understand what was going on.

Now he stood with his shoes flat on the andesite pathway beneath the town hall. The glow of the diamond throne had vanished and was replaced with a purpley fungus growth. Bdubs held the note with a firm grip between his fingers as he stared into the glorious building. There was a certain charm to the mycelium, wasn't there?

Bdubs pressed his teeth together angrily and swiftly turned away from the town hall.

Grian is getting in my head! He thought, shutting his eyes tight as he walked down the path where the barge was located. Of course, he wasn't avoiding Grian's shop, that would be ridiculous! Just practicing muscle memory. What kind of captain vice mayor can't walk through their shopping district with their eyes closed?

He figured out pretty quickly that maybe it was a bit of a stretch to memorize the entire shopping district with his eyes closed, because a couple more steps further and his foot caught on the edge of one of the grooves in the path, and he plummeted downwards. His eyes shot open just in time for him to whip his hands out in front of him and catch himself before he fell teeth first into the andesite. Swiftly, he hopped back up and dusted himself off, grumbling to himself. He then swung his head side to side like a puppy on its first day outside. He had to make sure no one had seen that. No mayoral sargent looked professional after a trip on the road. To his dismay, his gaze connected with none other than GoodTimesWithScar's- he was snickering and giggling with his hand covering his mouth. Under his arm, there was a book and quill. Bdubs guessed he had been taking notes on the shopping district or writing down "Hermitcraft's Most Wanted".

"Well, good morning to you, BdoubleO100! Or shall I say... BtripO100!" his giggles erupted into bubbly chuckles.

The builder inhaled sharply. "Come on Scar, it wasn't- that wasn't even a good joke!" He continued to dust himself off as if it would remove the shame that shone bright red on his cheeks. "Could've at least been a little more creative," he muttered, giving Scar a reluctant smile.

"Can't be bothered!"

Surprise. He'd probably give the others way funnier nicknames.

"Anyway," Scar said, wiping a tear from his eye, his laugh slowly dying down, "What 'chya got there?" He pointed down at the booklet from Grian.

Bdubs froze for a moment. I should tell him. I'm gonna deny Grian's offer. I'll tell Scar all about it.

He shifted his feet awkwardly.

No, I won't.

"Uhh, yeah, so, it's actually- I'm taking notes. I am writing- I am noting every shop down and checking who's paid their road access passes." God, was he really doing this? He just wanted to be respectful to Grian, politely deny his proposal in secret- but there was a constant nagging that told him he was in the wrong.

No way! Scar keeps things from me all the time. I can do it just this once.

"Ooh, really? Can I see?" Scar clasped his fingers around the leather. He tried to pull it away from Bdubs so he could see what was inside, but instead he was met with force. Bdubs was resisting giving Scar the book.

"Wh- you don't want me to see it? I'm your mayor, Bdubs, you're supposed to report everything to me."

Well, that one stung. "Yeah, no, yes, of course, wonderful mayor! You know I wouldn't keep even an itty bitty crumb from you," He nudged Scar with nervousness slowly climbing in his voice. "I just got here, I haven't even written anything yet. It's blank."

"Well, then get to work, silly! I'd like to see those names on my desk by tonight." Scar tipped his hat, then hurried off towards the town hall.

Bdubs watched him scurry away, waiting until he was out of eye sight before letting out a huge breath of relief. Tensions in his shoulders released, and he folded inwards. He had been standing straight up and stiff, so the change in posture was quite noticeable.

The builder shook himself out a little bit before continuing down the path. Normally he would keep going straight, but this time, he took a sharp right into the Barge. No use avoiding it anymore- he had to face it.

Bdubs was chewing his bottom lip nervously. How could he word this? He took a seat on one of the ledges of the shop, balancing the book on his knees and pulling out his plumed quill. He would place the book in Grian's profit box underneath the Barge. He began to write, a slightly shaky hand causing the words to appear wobbly. Perhaps for the better; it would be harder to recognize his handwriting.

Grian,

I write to you away from the eyes of Scar, of Cub, of Tango, of False... even of Jellie.

I have read your letter, and I think we may have had a slight misunderstanding.

Scar is a wonderful mayor. He has done so much for us- for me! I want you to realize that you have been observing incorrectly. He doesn't belittle me. I'm important.

You got one thing right, though, I am loyal to him. And I'm loyal to protecting the environment.

You claim the mushrooms inhabit the district now; it's too late to go back. The grass is unnatural, and it's killing off species that find their home here.

It is for this reason that I must politely

Bdubs lifted the quill softly away from the paper. Decline. Decline. Decline. Report this to Scar. Tell the whole server about this! Put Grian on broadcast! Show them how horrible he is...

Heavily, he placed the needle back on the paper. He wrote painfully slowly, making this word the thickest written.

accept your offer.

Yours Truly, BdoubleO100.

[melon-wing]

Dread Part 5

Betaread by @aaronampora-ao3 Thanks a lot! [Pirate AU Masterlist] Grian buried his face in Sam's uniform and after a few seconds arms wrapped around him and he was pulled close, Sam holding onto him as if he was scared Grian might disappear again. And for the first time in a while he felt completely safe again. For the first time in a while he felt like everything was going to be alright. He had succeeded. He had managed to survive. Now nothing would stand in his way.

Sam's hand moved and Grian let out a small whimper as he touched one of the deeper wounds. Sam let go at once, looking at him in worry. 

"Gods, Grian. I'm sorry. You are hurt. I should have... I'm sorry. I'm just so glad. When they told me you were missing, I searched everywhere for you. I was so scared to never see you again. The navy has been looking for you, but we couldn't find Bdub's ship and the higher ups were considering stopping the search missions and pronouncing you dead... I... I wasn't ready to mourn another one of my friends. I was about to desert to keep searching. Thank the gods you are here."

Grian smiled up at Sam. Bdubs had been wrong all along. The navy had searched for him. And Sam would have never given up on him.

"It's alright. Everything is alright now."

Sam didn’t look like he believed him, but he didn’t ask anymore questions, instead pulling Grian after him and up the deck. Grian tried not to show his discomfort at being pulled around. He shouldn’t even feel like that. It was Sam after all and not one of the pirates. He was safe. He was alright. He just needed to keep telling himself that. Maybe then his mind would stop flashing back to what happened to him on Bdubs ship.

The crew threw them curious and confused glances, but every time one of them came close one look from Sam made them back away again. Just one of them dared to approach them, but only to hand Sam a blanket that was carefully put over Grian’s shoulders. It was weird how such a thin piece of fabric made him feel safer already. Being able to hide the wounds made it easier to pretend nothing had ever happened. Grian was ushered below deck and into a rather tall cabin. This must be the Captain’s cabin, meaning he was in Sam’s room. 

Sam pulled Grian inside and then pushed him to the bed by his shoulders. “Sit down. Stay still. I’ll be right back.”

Grian felt himself freeze at the order and his smile became a little strained at the commanding tone. He really needed to get used to receiving orders again after all of this was over. He watched Sam walk away, hearing the steps fade into the distance. His body was tense, as if moving one muscle and going against Sam’s order would have consequences for him. It wouldn't. He knew that. But the harder he tried to relax, the worse the feeling got. He balled his hands into fists in the fabric of the blanket, pulling it tightly around his body. His breath quickened. 

Was Sam going to leave him alone in here? Was everything alright? Did something happen? Did Bdubs find them? 

Grian's mind kept racing with thoughts. He started feeling dizzy and like he was about to vomit any second. And just when he thought he might actually pass out, Sam entered the room again, arm full of supplies. One glance at Grian and he let the box fall to the floor, hurrying over to him.

"Grian? What's wrong. You are as pale as a sheet. Is it the pain? Anything else?"

Grian swallowed, his whole body starting to shake. Sam looked at him wide eyed, glancing from his face to his hands. And then Sam gently pried Grian's finger off the blanket, taking them into his own hands.

"You are alright. You are safe with me. Nothing is going to happen. All of my men are on high alert and we are going to set sail soon. Try to calm down. I'm here with you. I'll always be here for you. You don’t need to run anymore."

Grian listened to the calming voice and with every word being spoken he could feel the tension leaving his body again, until the shaking stopped again. "I'm sorry", he whispered, his voice sounding hollow even to himself.

"You have nothing to apologize for. I really shouldn't have left you alone. I... The next time I'll leave one of my men with you if I really have to go somewhere. Alright?"

Grian only nodded, unable to explain that it hadn't been just the being left alone part that might have triggered this reaction. Sam was trying his best to help him, he didn't need more unreasonable requests. Grian just needed to learn how to deal with human interaction again. 

Sam's hand was gently caressing Grian's hands and Grian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then a hand was on his cheek, wiping a tear away. When had he started crying? Sam's hand moved up into his hair and Grian froze again, his mind flashing back to Bdubs touching him in exactly the same way, so mockingly soft. He let out a small whimper. For one irrational second he thought that the pirate Captain might be in front of him once he reopened his eyes. But the hand retreated, as if his hair had burned it. Grian's eyes snapped open. Sam was looking at him with a mixture of sadness and something else... guilt maybe?

"What did they do to you, Grian? What did those bastards do?"

Grian lowered his gaze. He felt bad, showing weakness in front of someone else. He was alright. He was not broken. He was strong. So why did he feel as unsafe here as he had felt while running away from the pirates?

"They..." Grian hesitated, his voice was shaking and he hated it. "They tortured me. Nothing I can't handle. It wasn't that bad and everything is going to heal soon. We are soldiers, aren't we? We laugh through pain. We are trained to fight. We are trained to get hurt." His voice kept breaking off, sounding more and more unsure as he kept going on. He looked up again straight into Sam's eyes and suddenly all the walls in his mind seemed to break and a sob tore its way through his throat, tears now flowing freely down his face. "Oh god, Sam. I thought I was going to die. I thought I was going to break. This isn't how I envisioned my life in the navy."

"It's alright now Grian. Let it out. We might be trained, but that doesn't mean everything is fine when something like that happens... How did they hurt you?"

Grian felt like telling Sam every little detail and not telling him anything at all at the same time. A part of him wanted to keep his dignity, feeling ashamed of what he had let Bdubs do to him, but the more rational part of his brain won. Sam would see the wounds anyways. There was no hiding what had happened. "He... They... They whipped me, they hit me, chained me up. I didn't get to sleep a lot. And then he... He..." Grian's voice broke, pain in his lower back flaring up as memories rushed back into his mind. The way Bdubs voice had sounded so gleeful when he had admired the cuts. "He marked me", Grian whispered, starting to shake again. He'd survive this, but those wounds... There was no way they'd completely heal. He'd carry the scars for the rest of his life and everybody seeing them would know who he truly belonged to. Grian's breath hitched suddenly. He felt as if a fist was grabbing his heart. Had he really just thought that? Had he really just thought of himself as Bdubs possession?

"Grian?"

"Something is wrong with me, Sam", he said and then laughed, a tired and hollow sound. Hearing a sound like that leaving his own mouth only made him feel worse. "He tried to break me and I think he might have left a few cracks."

“Tell me...”

And Grian did. He told Sam everything. Leaving out any mentions of Doc. He wasn’t ready to talk about that with Sam yet. Sam hated Doc with a burning passion since their first meeting and Grian wasn’t ready to discuss the nuances of their complicated relationship.

Sam listened to him, nodding occasionally, but overall just listening, and it was exactly the thing Grian needed right now. He needed to work through it all to help put it behind him. When he was done with the story he felt only more drained but one question had kept coming up in his mind and he couldn’t keep it in any more.

"Do you", Grian hesitated. He knew a question like that would raise some eyebrows. He and Sam had never talked about this in too much detail after Sam had left to command his own ship. "Do you know where Doc is?"

And as expected Sam looked at him weirdly, squinting his eyes a little as if he was searching for something. "Last thing I heard he was sailing the Northern Sea, far away from here. Why? Do you think he might have something to do with all of this?"

Grian hung his head, heaving a sigh. A small joyless giggle left his lips. "No... No, I guess he doesn't", he answered flatly, trying to fight the overwhelming sadness that suddenly crashed onto him. What had he expected? Doc coming to his rescue like a knight in shining armour? Barging in, kicking ass and carrying Grian into the sunset... He might have imagined things like that during his sleep deprived hours at the mast, but deep down he had always known that those were unrealistic fantasies. And a part of him was glad. It meant that when he was safe, Doc wouldn't walk into the trap, believing Grian was still in Bdubs' hands. Doc would survive and the next time they'd met, they'd go right back to their meaningless banter... Doc would go right back to his pretend flirting. Bdubs had been wrong all along after all. There never had been anything special going on between them. They were enemies after all.

"Grian... What is going on? I tried to keep up with everything happening when they wouldn't let you transfer to my crew. His name was in your reports so often. And I know the way you write reports enough to know you left out some details. Did he do something to you? Is there something going on I should know about?"

Grian shook his head, smiling up sadly at Sam. "There's nothing. Nothing at all. He's..." Images of Doc's smile flashed in front of Grian's eyes, his mind going back to their last fight and him thinking afterwards that while they were enemies he still had grown weirdly fond of that pirate captain. He shook his head once more, to get rid of those images. "He's a pirate. And while he might be the reason I got my position there is nothing special about him. He is just one of the more challenging fighters we encounter."

Sam looked at him, forehead furrowed, looking rather unconvinced, but to Grian's relief, he didn't keep asking for more details, which was rather atypical for his friend. Usually Sam would want to know everything, if he thought Grian was hiding something. Maybe the condition Grian was in gave him some leeway.

"There's really nothing to it. Bdubs just mentioned him and I was curious. We wouldn't want to deal with two pirate crews at the same time now, would we? I can't have you getting hurt because of me."

Sam smiled at his words. He stretched out his hand, hesitating for a second, but when Grian didn’t flinch away, he pulled him into another embrace. It didn’t last long for Sam to move back again. „Let me look at your back and then I’ll see what we can do about it.“

Grian swallowed and nodded. He turned around on the bed, hanging his head in shame. He felt branded, marked as someone who hadn’t been able to defend himself. The blanket was raised up gently. He could pinpoint the exact moment Sam’s eyes landed on the name. There was a loud gasp and then a finger traced over the wounds gently, reminding Grian too much of the way Bdubs had always done that. He needed to remind himself that this wasn’t Bdubs’ hand, but it was hard, when both touches were so alike, both so gentle, tracing every line. To remind himself that it wasn’t Bdubs’ hand, Grian looked over his shoulder. Sam was staring at his lower back, the corners of his mouth lifted into almost a smile, his eyes full of fascination. Grian pressed his eyes shut for a second. He was imagining things again, seeing the expression Bdubs had always made on his best friend’s face. When he reopened his eyes he saw Sam’s real expression: A look full of horror.

Sam looked at him, their eyes met and a string of enraged curses left Sam’s mouth. „That bastard. That fucking scum. I will kill him. If he even dares to walk up to this ship I’ll vaporise him. I’ll tie him to a canon and send his body flying. How dare he do something so gruesome?“

Grian shrugged. What was he supposed to say to that? The threats should make him feel better, but they didn’t. He didn’t want revenge. He just needed to be as far away as possible from those pirates. He didn’t know how he’d react if he saw Bdubs again and he really didn’t want to discover it.

“I’m not sure we are equipped to handle these wounds. We don’t have a doctor on our ship at the moment. We need help“, Sam murmured, eyes wandering down again to the name on Grian’s back. Grian wished he wouldn’t keep looking. It made him feel more naked than his missing shirt did. He cleared his throat and then slowly turned around again, the blanket covering his back once more, not able to take the stare anymore.

“We can just sail out and go to the next island. I can bear this a little longer. Don’t worry.“

“No. It’s okay. There’s a doctor on the island. I sent one of my men to get him earlier as a precaution. He’ll be here in a few. We just need to stay put a little longer.” Grian didn't protest. He knew Sam was trying to do his best. He didn’t want to tell him how uncomfortable he felt each minute they were still spending here. He got the feeling, the longer they stayed here, the higher the possibility Bdubs would find them, find him. And that thought scared him. Maybe they could just sail away and he’d get treated somewhere else.

“Sam… Can we…” Grian began but stopped himself, feeling weird about making a request like that. He shouldn't. Sam knew what was right for him. Sam had always known what was right. Hadn’t it always been like that?

“Yeah?”

“Nevermind. It’s okay. We’ll wait.”

Grian stayed where he was, his fingers playing mindlessly with a loose thread on the blanket, while Sam tried to strike up conversation. Grian just couldn’t keep his mind focused on any of it. The longer they stayed here, the more nervous he got. He needed to get away.

Finally, there was a knock on the door, Sam looked up and smiled as one of his men came in. “He’s here, Captain. He’s waiting.”

Sam clapped his hands together in delight and then turned to Grian. “Let’s get this done with. We’ve been on this damn island for far too long. It’s about time to get away.”

Grian couldn’t have agreed with Sam more. He was so ready to be done with this place. Instead of waiting for the doctor to arrive Sam got up and Grian looked at him in confusion as Sam motioned for him to follow. Well maybe the doctor wasn’t supposed to come into Sam’s private area. Grian slowly stood up, only now noticing, how much his legs were hurting from all the running. His muscles almost felt too weak to support his weight. He stumbled forward a bit, but Sam caught him before he could fall over.

“Careful. We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself now, would we?” Sam said in an amused tone, pulling Grian along. He had thought they’d go into the infirmary that most ships had, even when there was no doctor available, but they didn’t. They went out onto the deck and walked up to the quarter deck. Most navy ships had a similar layout so it didn’t take long for Grian to realise where they were heading: The Navigation room. Grin looked at Sam’s back in confusion. Sure, visitors would be met there most of the time, but wasn’t the room unfit for a doctor’s visit? He slowed down and finally stopped, looking back over the deck. Sam’s men were all watching them, but averted their eyes when they noticed Grian looking at them.

Sam was already at the door to the navigation room and an annoyed click left his mouth. A sound Grian had heard far too often in his life. Sam was impatient with him. Grian hugged the blanket tighter around him and then turned back again to walk after his friend. Sam waited for him, putting a gentle hand onto Grian’s back. Grian gave him a weird look at how tense Sam suddenly seemed.

“Don’t be worried about me. The doctor will fix me up and then we can leave”, Grian tried to reassure Sam, a small smile on his lips. Sam had always worried too much about everything.

“Yeah… I’m just glad when this is over. Wouldn’t want you to suffer any more than necessary.” Sam replied and when Grian looked at him he had a wide smile on his face again. Grian couldn’t help it. Seeing Sam smile at him like that made all his worries fade into the background. With Sam by his side nothing could go wrong. With Sam by his side he’d manage to pull through. With Sam, he’d be able to heal.

The door opened and Sam gently guided Grian inside, staying behind him. There was no one standing in there and Grian looked around in confusion. Then the chair at the head of the table moved, turning around.

Grian froze. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like his heart had stopped beating. His mind was screaming at him to run, to bolt. Just run out and jump off the ship, but his feet didn’t want to cooperate. He was just staring, eyes wide.

“Hello, pet.”

Those words broke his trance and Grian turned around, bolting for the door, only to crash into it. Frantically he tried to open it only to find it locked. His head whipped around to Sam who had also walked a few steps into the room.

“Sam, hurry! We need to get your men! They need to arrest him! You need to run.” Grian’s eyes fell onto the key in Sam’s hand and then he looked back up to his eyes pleadingly. “Open the door.”

Sam started walking, the smile on his face never once fading and dread rose inside of Grian as his best friend kept walking towards his worst enemy.

“No…”

Grian looked at Sam in disbelief, shaking his head slightly. “No. You can’t be… Not you, Sam. Of all people, not you.”

Sam stopped at Bdubs’ side, putting the key into the pirate’s hand. Grian started to shake, turning back around to the door, banging against it. “Anyone?! Help!”

Sam chuckled darkly behind him.

“Oh Grian, dear naive Grian.” Sam’s tone was cruel and emotionless. Hearing Sam say his name in that unique way of his but with that tone was jarring. “They won’t help you. Nobody here will. My men are loyal to me. And I am loyal to Captain Bdubs. They all know what’s been going on. They were the ones searching for Bdubs and alarming him about your presence here after all.”

Grian shook his head again. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. He stopped knocking, resting his hand against the wood of the door and staring at it blankly. This was a nightmare. This couldn’t be real. Sam wasn’t working with a pirate. Sam would never betray him like that.

Slowly Grian turned around and seeing Sam stand next to Bdubs made him feel sick to the stomach. Grian refused to look at Bdubs, eyes solely focused on Sam, daring to hope that he could still sway his opinion. “Sam… Please. This can’t be true. Whatever he’s blackmailing you with, it can’t be worth this. Just order your men to arrest him. Please. Please don’t do this to me. You’re my friend. You’re like a brother to me. I love you. Don’t…” His voice broke when he saw the smirk forming on Sam’s face.

“You were always a nuisance, Grian. Always so overly cheery, always befriending everyone, always trying to be the best. I’ve hated you since the day you joined us in the orphanage, hogging all of Taurtis’ attention. Listening to him proclaiming his undying love for you. It should have been you dying ten years ago and not him.”

Grian was still shaking his head, tears running down his cheeks. This wasn’t true. This wasn’t his Sam. This wasn’t the boy he grew up with. This wasn’t the guy he’d shared kisses with back at the academy. His Sam was always sweet and kind, caring for him, helping him with everything. His Sam was an honourable soldier. He was a highly decorated Captain and hated pirates with as much passion as Grian did.

“You really look pretty when you cry, pet. If I had known you two had such an interesting past, I would have gotten Sam to join us sooner.” Grian’s eyes snapped to Bdubs, really looking at him for the first time since entering the room. Bdubs was grinning widely, a sadistic gleam in his eyes. It was pretty obvious that he was enjoying the show Sam and Grian put on for him. Grian's eyes darted around the room. He needed to get out. He needed to get away. He turned around again, frantically shaking the door, but it didn't give way and he was growing desperate. He heard a chair being pushed back and the panic inside of him rose tenfold. No... No! He was supposed to be safe. This was supposed to be his safe place. Sam was supposed to protect him. He heard steps, his breathing quickened and he turned around. Before Bdubs walked up to him he dashed to the side, grabbing a sword from one of the walls, holding it out in front of him defensively. It wasn't the best sword, old and probably not sharp enough to win any duel, just used for decoration, but it was the best thing he had.

"Stay away from me! Don't come any closer."

"Pet..." There was a clear warning in Bdubs' tone. Grian's hands were shaking, but he only tightened his grip onto his sword.

“No!", Grian replied, his voice more steady than he felt like.

"No? Are you really sure about that?", Bdubs voice only sounded more threatening now. Grian expected him to charge any second. But he didn't, instead looking to Sam and smirking. "Would you be so kind?"

Grian's eyes snapped back to Sam again, shaking his head. "No... Don't. Sam. Please." Grian still wanted to believe that it wasn't true. Sam couldn't just pretend years of friendship didn't happen.

Sam kept walking up to him. Grian tightened his hold on the sword. He needed to defend himself. No matter who the person in front of him was. He couldn’t go back to being Bdubs’ prisoner, no matter the cost.

"Grian..." Sam made that same clicking noise as before they entered the room. That disappointed sound that had accompanied Grian throughout his life. His fingers felt numb. He should hit Sam. Sam was getting too close. He should stab Sam, grab the key and run for it. He should... Sam was suddenly standing right in front of him, the tip of the blade on his chest, where his heart was beating "Come on. Do it, Grian."

Sam was grinning wickedly. They both knew Grian wouldn't do it. He wasn't able to do it. He wasn't strong enough.

"No." Grian shook his head and the weapon fell clattering to the floor. Before he could even move Sam had grabbed him. The blanket slipped off his shoulders, falling to the floor as Sam twisted his arms behind his back painfully. Grian didn't struggle when rope was tied around his wrists, digging into the wounds. He didn't even feel the pain anymore. 

Bdubs walked up to them. Grian didn’t move. He didn’t even turn his head away when Bdubs stopped in front of him, gently caressing his cheek.

“I was really worried, pet. You just disappeared. That wasn’t very nice of you. Killing my men like that.” The fingers suddenly dug painfully hard into his cheek. “I’ll make you pay for what you did back there Lieutenant. You are going to regret running away. You might have thought you had nothing to lose when you were going to die anyways, but you were wrong.” Grian let out a small whimper and the angry expression on Bdubs’ face morphed into one of delight.

“Now tell me, pet, did you have fun? Did you enjoy your freedom?”

Grian shook his head slightly. No. No, it hadn’t been fun. 

„You know. I thought we were past all this, but why don’t we return to your favourite spot on a ship… Sam, tie him to the mast. Let everyone see.“

Grian could feel Sam nod behind him and he started pushing Grian forward, carelessly walking over the blanket on his way to the door. The door was unlocked and they stepped out. It was like on Bdubs‘ ship. Only this time he wasn’t surrounded by pirates. This time the people around him weren't the ones he considered to be his enemies. He was dragged past people wearing the same uniform he used to wear. The same uniform he had been so proud of.

Sam gave him a hard push and Grian stumbled, falling against the mast, hurriedly turning around. He should make a run for it. They didn't have any leverage to hold him here. If he could make it past the crew and jump he could escape.

He didn't move. He couldn't muster the energy to run anymore. He looked at Sam.

"Sam don't. Please..." He felt like a broken record. Trying again and again. "Sam. Please. He wouldn't want this. Please. Taurtis wou-" 

Grian's head snapped to the side, stinging pain rushing to his right cheek and seconds later came the realisation that Sam had just hit him without even hesitating. 

"Don't you dare say his name. It's your fault he's dead. And now shut up."

Sam grabbed him and turned him around. He was leaning face first against the mast, a position he had gotten so used to during those last days. There was nothing tying him to the wood this time, but he still stayed there. "He's all yours, Captain Bdubs."

Grian heard steps but he still felt frozen in place. A shiver ran through his body and he suddenly started shaking. The steps stopped still a metre away and Grian looked over his shoulder at Bdubs who had a whip in hand and a sadistic smile on his face. "No... I think the honour should belong to you. This is your ship after all."

When the whip was handed over to Sam, Grian panicked. He couldn't do this. He couldn't let this happen. He pushed off the mast in desperation and ran. He made it past the first few men, too surprised to react, but then someone stepped into his path so suddenly he couldn't stop and strong arms grabbed onto him. And then he heard a giggle that made his blood freeze. "Why in such a hurry, Lieutenant? We just want to play a little."

Grian looked up at Keralis' unbelievable large and innocent looking eyes. He tried to wrestle free, but Keralis' had a tight grip on him. 

"Oh", Keralis made a delighted sound, "You still got some fight left in you?" Another giggle "That means I can watch you break all over again. This time we’ll make sure to crush your spirit." 

He was struggling, trying to get free. He needed to get away. There were more hands on him now. He felt panic rising in him as they dragged him back to the mast – back to Sam holding the whip. "No. NO!", he kept screaming the closer they got. Multiple men pressed him against the mast and his hands were untied only to be chained to the mast again. He kept yanking at them. His arms shaking. He didn't even feel the pain in his wrists anymore. He needed to get away. He needed to run. He needed to...

The whip tore through the air with a loud snap and Grian froze even though he hadn't been hit yet. He could hear Sam chuckle behind him. "I knew that would get your attention. Now be a good boy. For once in your life, let me enjoy being with you." A low chuckle and when Grian looked over his shoulder he saw Sam raise the whip again. “Break for me, Grian.”

[takeflight-hermitcraftau]

Chapter 1- New World

Grian first came too to the sound of an explosion overhead. He slowly pushed himself up, looking down at the sandy beach he was now on. “What the- Where am I?” He asked, standing up and brushing sand off his clothes and shaking out his wings. He looked around the small island, and saw crafting tables and saplings galore. His eyes caught onto a sign in the center of the little island.

“Welcome to Hermitcraft Season 6!

- Scar”

“No way.” Grian covered his mouth as he looked at the sign. “I’m in a new world! Oh my god. The watchers let me go?? No they couldn’t have.” He mumbled, and jolted as the communicator on his wrist started to buzz.

Grian has joined the game

Falsesymmetry: Grian?? Who the heck is Grian??

Ijevin : I have… no idea.

Stressmonster : I can go find out!! Im really close to spawn!!

Grian looked around, and just quickly took off. His red and black wings quickly lifting him into the air as he zoomed off into a random direction. Usually he wouldn’t be so… shy. But he didn’t want to be thrown into conversations with people he really didn’t know, especially with his wings. They had been gifted to him from the Watchers, and he wasn’t sure how people outside of Evo would react to that. He felt his wrist buzz again.

Stressmonster: No one’s here. Hey Grian!! Come back to spawn! We wanna meet you!

We?? Grian turned off his communicator, flying to the top of a mountain and looking over the ocean. His eyes widened as he actually looked into it. What were those things in it? The oceans weren’t supposed to have life in them besides just blue fish. And those you couldn’t even see! He checked his inventory, only to see a piece of paper and his recording equipment.  He pulled out the paper and read over it, his eyes widening.

‘Welcome to your new home, Grian.’ The paper read, and it gave a quick run down on some of the things he had never seen before. There was new mobs now, Drowned, Dolphins, Fish, and even temples and ruins! He hadn’t ever heard of the watchers being this generous. Not to him at least. They hated him. Grian yelped as he heard an explosion, looking around and seeing three people flying. He saw the wings on their back, and his eyes widened, but for some stupid reason he quickly flew underwater. He looked around this underwater landscape, and he grinned as he saw what the paper had called a shipwreck. He swam over to it to investigate.

Grian quickly swam into the ship, cautious of his air. He found a chest and pulled it open, grinning at the iron and lapis it held. He quickly swam back up, putting the valuables in his inventory before suddenly taking damage. He yelped, looking around and seeing the Drowned mob the paper warned him about, quickly swimming to shore. He scrambled up the mountain, watching tridents being hurled at him. He laughed excitedly.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe this! This. This is going to be awesome!!” He looked around the world, at the block generation. “Okay. Okay. Don’t get too over your head here.” Grian ran a hand through his hair, but he couldn’t stop the excited smile that pulled over his face. “Grian. You need to collect resources. Wool, wood, and weapons. You have to start mining.”

“Ah i see. Another guy who talks to himself.” Grian screamed and fell back into the ocean, gagging as salty water filled his mouth. “Oh heavens-!” He heard, before he was being pulled out of the ocean by a man with a glorious mustache. Grian quickly took in the mans appearance. Black hair and pale skin, wearing a suit, with gorgeous iridescent wings keeping them in the air. “Seems like the drowned are proper after you mate.” He flew them back on top of the small mountain. “So, You must be Grian then right?” He asked. Grian let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yea! That's me, Grian!” He smiled, holding out a hand to him. The man in front of him chuckled.

“I’m Mumbo, nice to meet you. False and Stress and real curious about you mate.” He smiled still, the expression nothing but warm and welcoming, “We should message the rest of the Hermits, tell them about you.” He said, more to himself than anything as he pulled up his communicator screen.

Mumbo: Found him, He’s one of us.

Docm77: One of us!

Falsesymmetry: One of us!

Stressmonster: One of us!

“Oh dear.” He sighed, looking up at Grian who was just curiously looking at everything. “Your… not used to this stuff aren’t you?” He asked. Grian nodded.

“Yea, the world i was in is still in 1.7.” He said, Mumbo’s eyes widened.

“This is 1.14!” He said, and Grian laughed.

“No.”

“Yea.” Mumbo grinned, and looked him over. “We need to call a Hermit meeting. You comfortable with that? All the hermits are just like us. I promise.” Mumbo smiled again, and Grian couldn’t help but say yes to him. He shook out his wings, drying them off as the two took flight. Mumbo started typing again as they flew. “We just started this world, your in luck! Hermitcraft is a thing we came up with. Its essentially a group of misfits, we all make videos of our travels and post them. A lot of people really like what we do.” Mumbo said, his voice oozing with pride.

“Oh really? I do videos too! This seems like fun!” He said, listening as Mumbo described the sections this world was in, explaining that they’d be different building styles and whatnot. Grian couldn’t help the surge of excitement that flowed through his finger tips. He was a builder at heart after all, and he was over the moon in learning all this. They were just flying to the shopping district. A few buildings were already in the works, and Grian felt a surge of energy he just hadn’t had in Evo. This was all new, exciting. And he was going to have so much fun.

Grian watched as others quickly flew towards them, each and every one of them having wings. It filled his heart with relief. He wasn’t an odd one out anymore. Of course, there was someone carrying another person. Grian frowned in concern, seeing her wings were rotting and thus unable to fly.

“So Mumbo! This is the new guy?” He turned at hearing a heavily accented voice, seeing a larger man with a beard, and a visor over his eye. His wings were large and a darker brown, and yet seemed incredibly fluffy.

“Hey! I’m Grian.” He introduced.

“I’m Iskall! Nice to meet you! Your wings are amazing by the way.” He said, and Grian couldn’t help the flush that came onto his face. He wasn’t quite used to being complimented.

“You too!” He beamed. He turned as the others gathered, seeing many faces and many wings.

“How did you even get here?” A women asked. Grian looked at her. She was the one with the rotting wings. Her skin was a blue-ish gray, patched together. She looked like a zombie, the only thing bright about her was her bright orange hair.

“Uhh nice to meet you too?” Grian’s smile turned nervous as he looked the women up and down.

“Oh! My bad! I’m Cleo, Zombie Cleo!” She smiled, and Grian nodded a bit. The others introduced themselves, Grian trying to memorize names to faces. But he knew it was a fruitless endeavor.

“So mate, how did you get here?” Mumbo asked, sitting down on a rock as the others just sat on the ground.

“Yea!! Story time!!” Scar grinned as he plopped down next to Cub. Grian chuckled.

“Well. I was in my old world, we called it Evolution, or Evo for short. I was building my little town of farms and whatnot, and i heard a void. I saw this obsidian piller and thought if was the Watchers, who kind of overlook our world and make sure we’re ‘playing nice’ or whatever. I followed the pillars and the voice, when i got to this boarder wall or whatever. Sooo I… Blew it up. And walked through. Next thing I know, I wake up on your spawn island.” Grian explained calmly. He looked at the others, some who already had diamond armor. But why was it glowing like that?

“You said your world was stuck in 1.7 right?” Mumbo asked and Grian nodded, earning a few gasps from the others.

“Oh lord I’d hate being stuck in that! No beacons? No efficacy five? Awful.” Iskall sighed, and Grian stared at him.

“Wait wait what?” He asked, and a few of the Hermits jumped up, eager to brag about their loot. Grian was shown tridents, told what enchantments were, beacons, everything. His eyes were wide as he listened to everything, Doc even handing him a trident and saying to try and throw it.

Grian quickly took that opportunity, aiming high and throwing hard. Doc whistled lowly as he watched it fly. “Damn, good arm Grian.” He said, his lips pulling into an amused smile. He took off to go find it, and Grian watched the mechanical wing the man had seemingly built himself. Grian yelled a thanks at him as he flew off, and the other hermits were kind of dispersing. But a blonde women- he had learned that was Falsesymmetry-walked up to him, smiling.

“So Grian! It’s nice to finally have a new guy on the server! If you ever want a healthy match of PVP, feel free to message the queen of hearts and body parts.” He grinned with a laugh, taking off. Her wings were sleek, and yet seemed robust. The others said their goodbyes, a few giving Grian some basic starter materials of food, and some iron gear.

Grian looked over at Mumbo and Iskall, that last two standing there with him. The two smiled. “And if you want some redstone help, just give us a call! And feel free to drop by anytime. Okay?” Mumbo said, and Grian nodded.

“Yea man! Thanks!” He smiled, and the two took off. Grian quickly rushed to get resources, having already formulated a plan in his mind.

___

Grian’s plan… lead him to die many times by Drowned, thankfully he had built a little platform over the water with a bed to respawn in, but it was done. He had made a shipwreck in a bottle! And frankly, he was quite proud of himself. Grian had recorded the whole thing, even going back to the spawn so he could explain in a video what was going on. He swam into his starterbase, already planning on a megabase for this futuristic district.

He had dumped resources into his many chests, trying half hazardly to be organized with everything. But deep down he knew it would end up just like Evo; with chest monsters everywhere. He glanced down to his communicator, starting to type. He needed to figure out what the hell a conduit actually did, and had a plan to build one, but he needed a little bit of help. And one of the only people who were online were Xisuma. He sent him a quick message, going down to his farms and just collecting more food and eggs (those he was saving for Mumbo later).

Xisumavoid: Yea sure i can help you out! Just come on over.

Grian had quickly learned who his neighbors were. Mumbo, Biffa, Scar, and Xisuma. He rushed over to Mumbo’s base via the strip mine, that being the easiest way to get onto land to fly. As he ran, his mind briefly went to Taurtis. To Netty and the others. Did they miss him? Did they even realize he was gone?

“Probably not.”  Grian thought to himself, climbing up the stairs and shaking off his wings before taking off. He’d be the first to admit he was happy to be here. He could fly around without feeling like he was cheating, or that others were mad at him. The people in this world were so nice and accepting, they loved talking to one another and cracking jokes. This was the kind of environment his personality type thrived in. Fun, fast, and chaotic situations that one needed to adapt too quickly. In fact, that gave him an idea for a game they could all play.

He landed at Xisuma’s base, looking around at how organized everything seemed. Especially in comparison to his own base. But it didn’t really matter to him. He was having fun again, meeting new people and starting on new adventures. Surely the Evo gang wouldn’t mind him being gone if it meant he was having the time of his life. Right?

---

Grian finished recording, sighing as he just uploaded the footage onto his communicator to edit later. For now, Mumbo invited him over to relax for a bit (and probably to gloat about his base) and he wasn’t about to say no to something like that. He took off from his small cobblestone platform and flew the few hundred yards over to Mumbos base. He saw the raven haired man sitting on top of the structure, and he quickly landed next to him.

“Hey Mumbo!” Grian smiled, plopping down and rubbing his neck. His throat was starting to hurt again, and he had been thinking that he might have been too loud in his recording. His throat was murdering him.

“Hey Grian, you doin alright?”

“Oh yea! My throats just been a little sore for the past few days.” Grian smiled, leaning back and looking over the ocean. “But what’s up?”

“Nothing really.” Mumbo said, his voice trailing off and into a bit of an awkward silence, before the redstoner exploded, “Whatarethewatchers-?” He asked quickly, and Grian was slightly taken aback.

“What?” He laughed a bit, coughing into his arm.

“When you first came here a couple of weeks ago, you said you thought this was the fault of ‘the Watchers’. What exactly are they?” Mumbo asked, reaching into his inventory and pulling out a bottle of water, handing it to the other.

“Well… It’s a little bit of a long story.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world, mate.”

[writing-the-end]

WS Chapter 56- Let’s Get Down to Business

Previous Chapter

Masterpost

Totally inspired by Mulan, both Red and my favorite disney princess! All the minesonas are together, the hermits are here, and the battlefield is ready! Just one last bit of red angst, brought to you by JoeHills

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland​

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block

Mentioned: Pierre belongs to @cabbagesenpai​ , Star belongs to @thatonewannabedragon​ , Bre belongs to @mintyhotchocolate​ . (If there are any others i missed let me know! Credit where credit’s due!)

Morning sunlight rises over the tents and small cabins within the battlefield. Not much after the sun has fully appeared over the horizon, black wings jet across the camp- followed by a second smaller pair of wings. 

Red groans, wishing Avon had never found that damned bell she has. “Wake up everyone! We need to get as much training in, we never know when the hellspawns will arrive!” 

“I was the best fighter ever seen in any world, I don’t need training.” Etho groans, face dragging along the ground as Avon pulls him by the feet out of his tent. 

“Key word ‘was’. Let’s see if that still stands.” Avon chuckles, tossing his feet to the ground and joining Ecto on the dunes. The two clasp hands, pulling each other into a half hug. The warriors share a moment of silent conversation in their eyes, enemies turned friends. And now friends turned generals of a small army. 

“A stick? That’s a pretty dinky weapon, man.” Mumbo looks at the staff Ecto hands him. 

“Ugh, again with the weird english words.” Iskall hisses, thwapping his friend in the ankles. Beside the other two architechs, Grian lets out a giggle at Mumbo’s pain. 

“I don’t trust giving any of you a weapon in our world.” Ecto mumbles, rolling her eyes and handing off a staff to Ren. 

“Just like a lightsaber. Thanks dude!” Ren gives her a wink, spinning his staff and planting it into the sand. 

Avon pulls off her cloak, draping it over a cactus and getting a feel for her staff. It’s lighter than her trident, but it reminds her of her earlier days. Jessie flits off the warming desert sand, wrapping around her neck and curling her tail around her bicep. “Avon, I don’t think you made enough sticks for everyone. I don’t have one.” 

Ecto glances to the other wanderer, and both bite their lips. Avon avoids Red’s anxious gaze, the way he bounces on his feet to get to training. She looks anywhere else, fearful eyes meeting with Pierre, flitting to Star, before staring down Impulse. “Red… Ecto and I talked it over, and we aren’t sure you’re ready for the rage of war.” 

“Wha-what do you mean?” The entire desert gets quiet, everyone staring at the three. Making it even worse. “But I can fight! You saw it in the mansion, in the nether! I want to help you all!” 

“Red, we don’t want you to get hurt.” Ecto whispers. “This is more than just a woodland mansion, or even our botched infiltration to the nether. This is war.” 

“This is for the best, Red.” Avon pulls Jessie off her shoulder, plopping the dragonet into Red’s open arms. “Just… try to stay out of trouble. Stay safe, okay?” 

Avon and Ecto turn away, yelling for the hermits and other fighters to begin sparring. To get back to business. Red backs away, sniffling as she tries to keep her tears from catching the sunlight. Is she really that useless? That her own best friends would rather she stay out of their way? Stay out of trouble? Jessie chirps, purple tongue lapping at Red’s warm tears. 

He turns away, feet slipping as he runs across the sand. Away from the army, into the campground, tripping over stakes and vines. He collapses into a pit of water, Jessie floundering to the surface as Red sinks lower. Feeling warm tears sting and mix with the water. Salt against fresh. 

Red thought he was a part of the team. A part of this all. That he wasn’t useless to them, to anyone anymore. He could be a friend, a part of this battle. To get justice, make the nether pay for Mama Gummi’s death. But he’s been sidelined. Too weak, too useless. He was an idiot to think that he was anything but that. He should just stay out of trouble. Always out of trouble- that’s all that caused this anyways. 

He’s not sure how long he’s underwater, curled in a tiny fish ball. Jessie had crawled out, but he could see her curled up in the sun. Laying in the grass just above him. Even Jessie will eventually be something more. More than just a baby. She’ll grow into a massive dragon, with firebreathing and massive claws and wings. She’ll be useful. Red flinches when a hand taps his shoulder, peeking from over his shoulder. 

A hermit has his head shoved underwater, glasses floating away from the bridge of his nose. His hand opens, inviting for Red to take it. And for some reason, Red does. Something about his face, his calm smile and jovial eyes eases Red from his wallowing.

“You’ve got quite the lung capacity to stay under there.” The hermit hauls Red out of the water, plopping her onto the grass beside Jessie. 

“I can breathe underwater. It’s not that incredible.” Red mumbles, not willing to meet his eyes. 

“I dunno, that’s pretty sweet in my mind. I’m Joe Hills. My friends just call me Joe.” He offers a hand, his other reaching out and petting Jessie. The dragon chirps, pressing into his palm like a kitten. 

“Red. Why aren’t you training with the others?” Joe stands up, and Red follows him. He isn’t sure why, but Joe just exudes a feeling of comfort, easy and friendly. Standing near Joe alone makes Red’s spirits rise.

“I’m not really the kind of person to fight with weapons. I’m more of a ‘pen is mightier than the sword’ kind of guy. What better way to beat your enemies into submission than with a damning remark on their ill actions towards the safekeeping and prosperous balance that nature provides us?” Joe summits a rise in the plain, plopping down on the grass. Red sits down beside him.

“I think I understood about half of those words, Joe.” The two look out across the battlefield. The training has split off. Some remain with Avon, working on strategy and further practice with fighting. Others have spread across the field, Ecto traveling between groups as they build up traps. Bre works with Stress, setting up potion dispensers. Pierre and Etho play with fire charges.

“Hey Impulse can you help me test this redstone trap?” Tango waves his friend over to the other side of the forest. Impulse takes off from the campground below where Red and Joe sit, watching the work. 

Red isn’t really keen on this whole fighting thing, but she understands that all attempts to talk have faltered. But she asked for the traps to be survivable. Maybe if the hellspawns see that a battle will cause harm, they’ll stop. It’s her hope, at least. But just another thing he can’t do right. He can’t even kill right. She sits, watching Tango explain the setup to Impulse. Tango is covered with redstone, the same color as his red eyes. Impulse was working with water, so he’s a little cleaner. Both laugh, and a glint of something metal appears in Impulse’s hand. 

Red squints to see what it is, but Impulse disappears from view. The ground beneath him has dropped away, and black vapors escape the pit. His head only reappears as he jumps around within the trap. “Is that…?” 

“Wither roses. Quite a poetic flower, I must say. So beautiful and delicate. Yet so...deadly.” Joe hardly looks up from his notes on the field. Red can’t take his eyes off of Impulse. His veins turn black as the wither roses deliver the sickness, and he grabs onto a ladder that was set above the trap, pale hands shaking as he climbs out. He still clutches whatever’s in his hand. 

“He looks like he’s not going to make it!” Red stands, realizing that Impulse is covered in wounds. The wither races across his body, penetrating into his heart and lungs. And the entire time, Tango can hardly breathe. Not from fear. Tango is laughing so loud Red can hear it from the hill he’s atop. Impulse’s writhing stops, but Tango’s cackles don’t. Horror etches across Red’s face as he realizes what’s happened. What kind of sick friend laughs as their friend perishes from wither sickness? Why would Tango not help him? 

A loud crack echoes from the forest, forcing Red to cover his ears and cringe. Joe doesn’t even flinch, used to the crackling noise. He glances over his glasses, seeing the horror on Red’s face be replaced by confusion. 

Impulse is standing up, brushing wither vapors off his shorts and playfully nudging Tango. Tango’s now on the ground, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard. Red wipes her eyes, blinking away the tears as if that was causing her to see things. “What happened? How is he alive?” 

“We’re all carrying totems of Undying. Once Xisuma warned us that there’s no respawn in your world, we all keep them around.” Joe pushes his glasses up his nose. “Do you not know what a totem of undying is?” 

Red shakes his head, and looks back at the pair. Impulse and Tango are looking at the trap that just killed the former, smiling quite proudly at the redstone work. He can see a glint of gold, covering Impulse’s cheek where a thorn had scratched him. The trap is deadly, but it’s possible to escape. Impulse closes it up, so no one else falls in for now. “What is a totem of undying?” 

“You’ve been carrying one around the whole time.” Joe points the feather end of his quill to Red’s backpack. Pointing at the golden statue, haphazardly tied onto the straps like a knick knack. Red sits down, plucking Fred off his string. Running his fingers across the smooth gold, ringing the emerald eyes. “When the holder’s heart stops beating, their soul perishing, it activates the totem. It breaks apart, and the magic instilled in the metal brings them back from death, gold melting into their wounds and healing them. It’s quite a beautiful sight to see up close.” 

Red’s lips form a thin line. Scar gave him this. Why did Scar think he’d need this, or was it a precautionary measure? The idea of having to use such a tool scares Red. But now, he just wants to keep it with him at all times. Red tucks the totem into the pocket of his vest. Just in case. “I’m not going to die. I’m not going to use this. I’m not useless.” 

“You should prove that to your friends. Look across this battlefield, little fish. What’s something we’re missing?” Joe lays out his journal, showing the map of the field. 

Reds eyes look around, noting the traps and offensive moves. His mind remembers something that Blu said, long ago. When they first met the hellspawn. “I’m the most dangerous. But why?” 

He watches a drop of water fall from his hair, quickly drying in the sun. The nether is the realm of fire. The hellspawns are made of fire, of lava and magma. Red remembers the way Blu recoiled from the blast of water that night. The steam and crackling of Endo when he washed over her with a wave. “Water. I can stop them with water! I can defend us all...with water!” 

Joe looks up, grinning as he gazes over his glasses. “And you can do it in a less deadly way than any of their blades of blasts can. You aren’t useless, and I don’t think your friends feel that way either. You just haven’t embraced the strongest side of you.” He nods to where Ecto and Avon are training together, using fire charges to simulate hellfire. 

“Thank you, Mr. Joe Hills!” Red leaps from the hill, running down and through the campground. “I won’t forget this!” 

Red feels the wind brush through his hair, feet pounding across the ground. As joyous and determined as he ever felt. His emotions take over, and soon he’s no longer running. He’s swimming, water pulsing across the grass with him. Easing him over the stakes that would trip him, the pits that would cause him to stumble. 

Crossing the battlefield, he raises ice walls, defending the hills and mounds that archers and fighters plan to make their stand upon. Moving water creates a trench, a moat around the campground, protecting them from all sides. Safe from attacks by land from the nether. Red hasn’t felt this much power, this much energy in his whole life. 

And he nears Ecto and Avon, struggling to defeat one another and avoid the hellfire surrounding them. Always dueling, equal matches for one another. Ecto shoves Avon backwards, and she narrowly avoids falling into fire by spreading her wings and flying. Avon tosses a fire charge, igniting the grass around Ecto. Trapping her. “You’ve been caught by the nether Ecto! Again!” 

Red lets out a holler, the water building up into a wave. The crest of the wave, and Red, comes crashing into the battle. Hellfire extinguishes into sputtering smoke, and both of the wanderers are swept off their feet. Red sees both of them look at her, and she snaps her fingers. “I won’t stay out of trouble. I am the eye of the storm. I am the trouble!” 

Dual whips of water lash out. Both Ecto and Avon narrowly avoid the strike, Avon blocking hers and Ecto dodging to the side. Both are shocked, glancing at one another before looking at Red. The three wanderers, the three friends, sharing a silent conversation without a word being spoken. Seeing the strength each has. The strength that makes them a team, that makes them friends. 

Red begins to laugh, followed by Ecto. And finally, a giggle bubbles free of Avon. Fire burns bright in all their eyes, and Avon launches her trident at Red. He easily blocks the attack, and deflects it towards Ecto. 

The wanderers duel, all three together. Playing like children, laughter ringing across the battlefield. No matter what happens, what the end of this war gives, they’re still together. They’re friends. Allies. 

Wanderers.

[hermit-whump]

Watchers - Pt 2

AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231755/chapters/64038469 TW - Suicide, blood, torture, murder, violence, missing people

“Wil, we’re going to get them back.” Dream says, sitting down next to Wilbur on the wall that borders l’manburg and the dreamsmp. “I promise, they will come back.”

“A Watcher came.” Wilbur mumbles, tears in his eyes. “He had rabbit ears. He left Tommy and Tubbo’s shirts. There was so much blood on them.”

Dream blinks a few times behind his mask, shocked. A watcher. A watcher came to his server, stole two children and returned to give back their shirts? He doesn’t want to believe it. Dream can’t believe it, not until he realises what the rabbit ears mean.

Sam.

Sam shouldn’t have been able to get here, he shouldn’t have been able to leave the watchers, he’s just an owl. Dream can’t wrap his head around it, trying to process what would have made the watchers decide that Tommy and Tubbo decide to kidnap them. They’re just kids, though they are talented.

“The next intake.” Dream realises out loud. “Oh shit.”

“Intake?” Wilbur asks, rubbing his face as Dream stands up. “Dream what are you saying?”

“I need to talk to someone.” Dream says, helping Wilbur up. “You should come with me, it’s about Tommy and Tubbo.”

---

Grian screams as Sam slowly plucks a patch of feathers from his wings, the skin under them raw and bleeding. Sam laughs as he yanks out a handful of feathers, grabbing Grian’s face and forcing him to look him in the eyes. Sam laughs as tears run down Grian’s cheeks, waving a few feathers in front of his eyes. 

“You shouldn’t have spoken back.” Sam pretends to sigh, wicked glee in his eyes and he drops Grian’s face, the hermit hitting the ground with a thump. “This wouldn’t have happened if you did.”

“I just wanted to know what happened to them.” Grian pleads, flinching as Sam turns around, glaring at him.

“You should know. You’re a falcon, you should know what happens to prey that fight back.” Sam’s glare turns to a smile. “You should remember, if you hadn't betrayed us, you would have been the one to kill them.”

Grian feels sick to the stomach, going pale as he realises that Sam isn’t lying. He would have killed Tubbo and Tommy if he hadn't left. If he hadn’t escaped. Pain blooms in his side as Sam kicks him, a cry escaping his lips no matter how hard he tried to hold it in.

---

Wilbur follows Dream as he walks through a forest, cold air whipping him in the face. Dream doesn’t say anything, his sword drawn, though occasionally he looks back to make sure Wilbur’s still there.

Dream told Wilbur that it wasn’t dangerous.

A small house appears, made of cobble and sprucewood, with some smoke coming out of the top of the house. The windows have shutters over them, and potatoes grow in the yard behind the house.

“Wil, I need you to promise that no matter what happens, you do not get involved. Not even if it looks like I will die. Don’t get involved.” Dream says, putting his hands on Wilbur’s shoulders.

“Dude chill.” Wilbur smiles, recognising the house. He moves in front of Dream, walking towards the door. “This is Techno’s place, why would he hurt us?”

Wilbur knocks on the door, tapping his foot impatiently as questions race through his mind. Why would Dream come to Techno after finding out that watchers broke into l’manburg and dreamsmp? Why isn’t Dream more worried about the watcher coming back, since he’s shown that he can do that? 

Techno’s face appears behind the door, covered by a pig’s mask. His hair is bright pink and wet, clearly a fresh dye, and he’s in a red hoodie and black pants. Wilbur smiles, suddenly realising that he doesn’t know what to say to Techno.

“Hey Wil, why are you here?” Techno asks quietly, confusion in his voice.

“Can we come in, Techno?” Dream asks. “I need to ask for a favour.”

“If this is a favour for you, why is Wil here?” Techno replies cleanly, evenly.

“I need to ask for a favour.” Dream repeats calmly, his voice as cold as the wind.

“What have you dragged Wilbur into?” Techno growls, a hand grabbing Wilbur’s arm. “I know you two were warring, our history doesn’t change that I’m his friend, so I swear if you’ve done something to him-”

“A watcher kidnapped Tommy and Tubbo.” Wilbur blurts out, trying to stop the argument. “It’s been like, eight weeks. They’re just gone and we didn’t even know that it was a watcher until a few days ago and Dream says he needs someone’s help and I don’t know what to do.”

“Shit.”

---

“What are you doing to me?” Tubbo asks, his voice hoarse from screaming. Something is in the back of his mind, poking and prodding its way around. “Get out of my head!”

The watcher laughs, the mask on their face a bright white that gives Tubbo a headache. Purple magic swirls around them, and Tubbo shuts his eyes, trying to fight back. He doesn’t know what he’s fighting against, though. He doesn’t know how to fight back.

“Don’t you feel tired?” The watcher asks, a fake sympathy in their voice. “Why don’t you close your eyes and sleep?”

Tubbo fights back. He doesn’t know why he bothers anymore, if not to spite the watchers. It hurts so much, tears filling his eyes as he tries to will the magic away. He doesn’t want to become one of them. Not anymore. He just wants to go home. Wilbur and Dream and Fundy and George and Sapnap and Eret can’t be dead. They just can’t be. He has to have a home to go to, a place to escape to that won’t turn him away.

“Won’t it be easier to forget?” The watcher asks, and a scream tears itself from Tubbo’s throat. It hurts so much. Too much. He just wants to go home. He just wants to go home, why can’t he go home?

⍑ᒷ ╎ᓭ ⍑𝙹ᒲᒷ, ╎ᓭリℸ ̣  ⍑ᒷ?

The watcher’s mask has a splatter of blood on it. It’s his blood.

---

Grian stares at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused as he listens to Sam move around him. At least, he thinks it’s Sam. No one else visits him, no one else bothers to visit a traitor. A terrorist. So he just stares at the ceiling, ignoring Sam as he walks around.

“You know, the one thing I miss about when you ripped off your wings was being able to whip you.” Sam says nonchalantly. As though it’s normal.

Maybe it is.

“Of course, I suppose I could whip you now. There’s nothing stopping me.” Sam moves Grian into a sitting up position. “But your wings do look so lovely.”

Sam yanks a group of feathers out, and Grian doesn’t scream. It still hurts, it still burns as though his wing was set on fire. But he doesn’t scream. He’s too tired, he’s too used to the pain, he’s too defiant, whatever excuse he can use is good.

Sam gives a pleased hum, and pride fills Grian’s chest, though it shouldn’t. He hates this, he hates how he’s made Sam even slightly happy by not screaming.

It doesn’t matter, anyways. Sam wants him to be quiet, so he should be. If he fights back it’ll hurt more, if he screams it’ll get worse. He wants to be good. He wants Sam to leave, he wants Sam to stay.

It doesn’t matter, he just doesn’t want to be hurt.

Right?

“リ𝙹∴,  ̇/ᒷꖎᑑ⚍ᔑ, ||𝙹⚍ ꖌリ𝙹∴ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑℸ ̣  ||𝙹⚍ リᒷᒷ↸ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᔑ!¡ 𝙹 ꖎ 𝙹 ⊣╎ᓭᒷ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᒲᒷ ᔑリ↸ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ 𝙹ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ∷ ∴ᔑℸ ̣ ᓵ⍑ᒷ∷ᓭ, ∷╎⊣⍑ℸ ̣ ?” Sam asks, the galactic falling off of his tongue as though it was his native language. “ᔑリᓭ∴ᒷ∷ ╎リ ⊣ᔑꖎᔑᓵℸ ̣ ╎ᓵ 𝙹∷ ╎ ' ꖎ ꖎ ᓵ ꖎ ╎!¡ ||𝙹⚍∷ ∴╎リ⊣ᓭ”

“!¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ ↸𝙹リℸ ̣  ⍑⚍∷ℸ ̣  ᒲᒷ” Grian begs, tears in his eyes. Sam laughs as one escapes his eyes, brushing it off of Grian’s cheek before the hermit can move. “!¡ꖎᒷᔑᓭᒷ ᓭᔑᒲ ╎ ↸𝙹リℸ ̣  ∴ᔑリℸ ̣  ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ⍑⚍∷ℸ ̣”

“ᓭᔑ|| ||𝙹⚍∷ᒷ ᓭ𝙹∷∷||” Sam smiles, the knife in his hand resting against Grian’s throat.

“╎ᒲ ᓭ𝙹∷∷||.” Grian breaks, curling up as he cries. “╎ᒲ ᓭ𝙹∷∷|| ╎ᒲ ᓭ𝙹 ᓭ𝙹∷∷|| ᓭᔑᒲ ╎ᒲ ᓭ𝙹∷∷||”

---

“Where’s Grian!” The man yells as he walks into the town hall, the hermits watching him with their swords drawn. He wears a bright green jacket and blue pants, a white mask over his face. Another man follows him, dressed like a king though he sports a pig mask. False, Cub and Ren all look at eachother, anger and confusion on their faces. “I know you guys are in here, where is Grian?”

“Dream you sound like a serial killer.” The man in the pig mask notes, and Xisuma frowns at the name. He recognises it from somewhere. “Look, we just need to chat with him, Dream here’s dragged-”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“It was your server those two went missing from!”

“Hey guys,” Wilbur walks into the town hall from the outside, ignoring the protests from Dream and Techno. “Tommy and Tubbo have been kidnapped by watchers, and Dream and Techno think that Grian could help us. Sorry for them acting like murderers, I couldn’t convince them to be civil.”

“Grian’s gone.” Scar says, looking down from where he sits on the diamond throne, Xisuma hitting his arm as he says it, though the mayor ignore him. “He’s been gone for four weeks. A watcher took him. One with rabbit ears.”

---

Tommy wraps his wings around himself, waiting for the order to practice flying. He has to behave, or he’ll never be allowed a moment alone again. How was he supposed to know he was going to survive that? He didn’t know that being a watcher meant that his poison tolerance went up.

The watcher nods at him, and Tommy stretches his wings, flapping them experimentally before he steps off the roof, falling before he pulls up, banking to the left. Two watchers follow behind him, swords resting by their sides. If he could just get one, he could get out.

Tubbo and Grian are dead, after all. 

He doesn’t feel guilty about leaving their bodies behind, he doesn’t even know where the watchers keep bodies. Maybe they throw them into the void, Tommy thinks to himself, or maybe they eat them.

Tommy flies over the void, and for a brief second he wonders if the watchers would catch him if he let himself drop into the void. Maybe they would, and he wouldn’t be allowed to fly again. Maybe they wouldn’t and he’d die.

Or he’d escape when they leave to report him dead.

Tommy folds his wings in, and lets himself fall into the void.

---

He can’t see, blind folded and led through halls. He doesn’t mind, though he can feel his back bleeding. Sam reopened a wound before he blind folded him, and Grian doesn’t care to ask for a bandage. He doesn’t deserve one, if a wound is getting reopened. He must have misbehaved somehow. He lets Sam lead him around, stumbling and bumping into things. 

He doesn’t say anything when he feels his feet get cut open by something sharp, or when he feels the reopened scar tear further open. He won’t make anything worse for himself. Maybe he can save any survivors if he stays quiet.

It doesn’t matter that he knows he’s the only survivor. It doesn’t matter that he’s the only one left.

Is it so bad to save himself?

When does it start being working for the watchers, and stop being protecting himself? When will he lose himself to the watchers? Grian doesn’t want to answer the questions, he doesn’t want to think about them. He’d rather be mindless, a puppet on strings. His brain just won’t stop, he’s going to be hurt because of it.

He’d rather lose himself than be hurt.

So he stays silent, he doesn’t fight back. Not anymore. The pain isn’t worth it. 

---

Tubbo walks behind the watcher, his hands behind his back. They say they’re going to give him a test. A test of loyalty, one he failed in the past. Tubbo won’t fail this one, he can’t. He is no traitor.

A voice screams in the back of his head, struggling for control against the magic. Two words, two words and that voice is gone, and he will be completely mindless. A good soldier for the watchers. One deserving of his rank. 

Tubbo walks into a cell where a man kneels, blonde hair bloody and red jumper in tatters on his body. He sports a pair of wings missing feathers, falcon wings. The same rank as he is. He wears a white blindfold, though his head looks to the ground. Blood pools on the floor beneath him, his breathing sharp, though he tries to muffle it. A wooden block is in front of him, and a sword rests in the hands of an owl with rabbit ears. The owl hands him the sword, pushing the traitor’s head onto the block, and Tubbo suddenly feels sick.

This will kill the man.

He’s been asked to kill someone. Someone that the voice in the back of his head knows, someone he knows. Tubbo doesn’t want to, he has to, he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to know the man’s name, the traitor’s crimes, but he feels as though he already knows. That he knew the man before he was made a watcher.

Grian, thats what the voice calls him. Grian.

“Tubbo, you know your orders.” The watcher besides him says, and Tubbo grasps the sword tighter. He doesn’t know what to do.

---

Tommy stares towards the door, knowing that the second he sits up a watcher will be in his room to make sure he doesn’t try to kill himself again. He can’t believe they caught him. He can’t believe they didn’t let him die, why keep a pet that doesn’t want to move? That doesn’t want to live. He’s a waste of resources for them, why don’t they just let him sleep?

He doesn’t want to die, not completely. He wants to leave, but he won’t get out without dying. Grian might have been able to get out, be he won’t be able to. He doesn’t even know how Grian escaped. Maybe Grian winged it, maybe he had help.

Maybe Tommy should just try.

Tommy slowly sits up, a watcher immediately in the room with him. They watch him intently as he stretches his wings slowly, like he only just woke up. Tommy slowly stretches, not watching the watcher in his room.

He’s going to get out.

He doesn’t care what it’ll take.

---

Tubbo runs through the halls, holding onto Grian’s hand. The sword in his hand drips with blood, a deep purple that shouldn’t be the colour someone bleeds. He knows that if he doesn’t escape he will be killed. But he can’t kill Grian, not after everything Grian did to protect him and Tommy.

He races towards the portal room, practically dragging Grian behind him, when someone standing in the doorway throws him backwards.

Tommy helps him up, purple blood on his hands, and they race into the room, no time to talk. They don't ask questions about the blood, they don’t care about who the other had to kill to escape.

They run through the first portal they see, praying that the watchers wont find them as Grian destroys it behind them.

---

“It’s all gone.” Tommy says, slowly walking through the dreamsmp. “Where is everyone?”

Grian doesn’t say anything. It’s been weeks since they escaped, hiding in the forests and waiting. Grian hasn’t said a word, not even humming. Tubbo walks towards L’manburg, the large walls feeling safe. As though the watcher’s wont be able to get them there.

“Why isn’t anyone here anymore?” Tommy’s eyes fill with tears as he tries to stop himself from having a breakdown. “Did they think that we died? Did they die? They died, didn’t they, we’re never going to see them again and it’s all my fault I shouldn’t have-”

“Tommy, for the love of-” Tubbo takes a deep breath in, standing on the threshold between L’manburg and the dreamsmp. “It’s not your fault. Anything could have happened, but this isn’t your fault.”

Some bees fly towards the group, bouncing off Tubbo’s side. Tubbo smiles sadly, following the bees into L’manburg.

It looks exactly how they left it, the flag flying in the distance, the new drug van half built and ugly as it gets. Dirt placed haphazardly around. Some flowers sway in the breeze, dandelions and daisies.

It smells like dirt. It smells bad, it smells as though no one’s cleaned it in years.

It smells safe.