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so, one time i wrote rpf about grian and some random guy from his comment section. enjoy?? if you can

dm grian, pray that he’ll text back and then miraculously get a conversation going, chat with him from time to time. time skip one month, you’re acquaintances, he likes you enough to not ghost you but you’re just a fan who he talks to sometimes. time skip half a year, you’ve been persistent enough for him to actually see you as more than just a fan, you’re starting to become friends. a year goes by, you’ve had video calls a couple of times and played some online games together. two years later, you’re friends, you’ve briefly introduced each other to your families and friends because you’re pretty good friends and have an impact on each other’s life. you’re not best friends, but you know, trust, and like each other enough to be happy to see each other every time you have a video call, and plan to meet irl some time soon. you think that you’re finally ready to ask grian about life series. you’re nervous. you’re calling him on sunday and he picks up almost instantly. "hey," you say. "i’ve been thinking.. do you need another player for your minecraft thing? by any chance?" he’s silent for a few seconds. you assume he’s offended or something and are about to take your words back but then he speaks, and his voice doesn’t sound angry or disappointed; he sounds surprised. "you mean life series? my hardcore series? buddy, it ended 42 years ago." and then he looks down, averts his eyes. there’s a woman in the room, she’s smiling politely. "mr lime the dragon, it’s time to eat your candies," she says, as she hands you two brightly coloured candies and a glass of water. something tells you these aren’t candies, but you eat them anyway, because when you look at grian in search of guidance he nods at you. yeah, not candies. candies shouldn’t be so sour. you watch the woman leave your room. "so!" grian says after a few seconds of silence. "was nice to see you but i have to go. do things." "aren’t we all," you joke with an unsure smile. thankfully, grian chuckles. "yeah. i’ll see you next month, okay? will bring you something nice." he pats your shoulder absentmindedly and gets up from his chair. his movement are heavier than you remember. you notice that his hair got a lot grayer. you blink at him in confusion; he doesn’t notice. you say goodbye, and he leaves after smiling at you somewhat sadly, but sincerely from the doorframe. you’re alone in the room, again. you look at the window. the wind is playing with the curtains. you wanted to ask him something, but what? the more you think about it, the more distant, unimportant this thought feels. maybe it’s nothing. it probably is

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Scar wakes up and gets to live another day.

It feels so weird. So wrong. Wasn’t he supposed to die in the end? Scar is pretty sure he was. He saw it with his own eyes: every winner before him died in the end. But for some reason, Scar didn’t.

At first he was confused. Maybe there’s been some kind of mistake. Maybe he’ll drop dead any minute now. But then a day came by. Two days. A week. And no god struck him down with a lightning. Scar was becoming more and more weirded out by that. He tried taking matters in his own hands, but no amount of jumping from a cliff to his death led him to freedom. He respawned again and again, wearing the same clothes with poppies and lilacs, having the same red eyes looking back at him from the river, staring at the same shade of red his name had every time he took his communicator in his hand and typed, "Hey?", "Anybody alive?", "Hello?", because what if the reason why he’s still alive is that he’s not actually a winner yet? What if there’s another player, and all he has to do to end this is to find and kill them, or let them kill him? But he never found anyone, and two weeks after the day he won, he stopped searching.

Three weeks after the day Scar won, he already had a new house going on. He settled at the edge of the map near mesa. "Screw this," he figured, "I’m not going to just wander around the land for months if the gods forgot to kill me. I’ll do things!" And things he did. After he was done with his new house, he fixed his old base, and tore down Mumbo's tower, and built a couple of things here and there. It was nice.

The next week was spent relaxing. He tended to his crops and fed cows he’d stolen from someone (not that the person would mind; they were dead). He died once that week and woke up in his bed again, but at that point it was starting to feel normal.

Five weeks after the day Scar won, he finally had to admit that the gods were not going to kill him. That for some reason, they decided to trap him there. Or maybe that’s what their idea of a happy ending was, maybe Scar happened to become the winner of the final game, the final round, and this was his reward. Maybe all the other players have gone home. Maybe Scar’s the only one left behind, and they live on without him.

There was no use in thinking about possibilities. It was only upsetting him. No - terrifying him. Instead, he took the matters in his own hands once again, and paid a visit to The Secret Keeper.

"I don’t want that," he said to it. "If this is my reward, I don’t want it. I want to go home. To Hermitcraft. Back to my friends. Back to where they’re alive."

The Secret Keeper didn’t seem to react. Scar felt his chest heat up with rage.

"Get me out of here!" he yelled, voice wavering. "You psychos! I- I miss my cat!"

The Secret Keeper didn’t answer.

Scar went home, laid down on his bed, and spent the evening thinking about Jellie's warm fur and his friends' smiles.

Scar wakes up and gets to live another day.

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my pre-teen years were wild. i was so fucking annoying. i’d rant about something for 40 minutes, then i’d listen to dubstep for half an hour WITHOUT HEADPHONES (the same ten songs every time), then i’d rant about another thing for an hour and end the day with a fake story about me fighting spiders in minecraft (i was scared of hostile mobs in minecraft so in reality i wasn’t fighting shit i was shaking from fear in my little wooden shack for the whole night). my friends probably hated me and hadn’t disown me back then just because i was so bold about telling them all this crap and making them listen to DUBSTEP every DAY that they thought i’d kill them if they tried or something