obliqueblade - Tumblr blog

obliqueblade · 3 months ago

Text

DDVAU- Chapter 5: You're too full of yourself, Pretty Boy.

HOT GUY’S POV

“For the last time, Cub, No,” Scar stated for what felt like the millionth time. He wasn’t sure how many times exactly it had been said over the past months, having lost count around 100 times.

That was a month in. Now, over a year later- suffice to say Scar had heard this lecture closer to a million times.

“But if you just..”

“Just nothing Cub. It’s not her fault the HA can’t get their heads screwed on right about her. I won’t turn my back on her just because some big wig doesn’t like it.” Besides, they both knew the only reason the Hero Association was so against her was merely because they knew they couldn’t control her. Her public image, yes, but not her actions. Cute Guy was probably the only person in the entire city that could be considered free. And the only person, not considered a person.

“It’s not just that Scar. The HA could remove you from duty and..”

“And have a riot on their hands? I think not.” Scar wheeled himself through the lab nearing Cub's room where his suit lay ready for him. That and his legs. His very necessary legs. Public opinion was part of the reason they wouldn’t let him retire- even when his health practically demanded they did. It would’ve caused too many bureaucratic nightmares for them to do so. That and Hot Guy was a good look for them. A way to instill propaganda into the population without doing so actively.

“If you keep this up, they might decide the riot is less work than managing you,” Cub muttered trailing behind his wheelchair. This conversation had started in the lobby before Scar was even fully inside the building.

Then continued into the elevator.

Then continued in the elevator.

Then continued while leaving the elevator.

Then continued through the hallway.

And has continued through the Research and development of the HA headquarters.

Let's just say, Scar had grown tired of the nagging. As if the overbearing fluorescent lights weren’t bad enough- Scar had to manage an overbearing scientist. Scar was beginning to see a pattern. A familiar throbbing began behind his eyes, overwhelmed by everything. He was used to this headache at least, so he pressed forward.

“Cub,” Scar stopped his wheelchair,” when have you ever been able to convince me to change my mind.” It was a rhetorical question. They both knew that once Scar had decided on something that was it.

“I can still hope that one day you’ll gain self-preservation skills,” Cub responded nonchalantly, moving past him to swipe his keycard against the sensor next to the door. Smoothly the door slid up and out of the way revealing the cool lab Cub called home. Half styled fitting the aesthetic of the frazzled scientist Cub pretended he wasn’t, and the other outfitted like a hospital room for Scar. After all, having your number-one hero in the hospital was bad publicity. Wheeling himself in, Cub’s words seemed to dawn on him.

“Hey! I have… some self-preservation skills.”

“Aside from facing Jellie?”

Scar decided it was best to not comment. However, Cub was not the one who would have to feed her after being late. Scar would rather face the Hero Association any time instead. Scar wasn’t sure what he had more scars from- surgeries, Hero Work, or simply trying to feed the little heathen he adopted. She was a Queen though, so Scar could not complain too much. Scar really only had himself to blame for how spoiled she was, but she deserved every moment of it.

“Anyways, how are they holding up?” Scar quickly changed the subject. Cub’s eyes widened as he slammed his lab door back down to ensure their privacy. It was one thing for Cub to have Scar's legs concealed in his office—it was another for him to address them directly. You never know who might be listening.

“Scar you know…”

“That they don’t want me talking about them? Cub I’m in a wheelchair. If anyone looked at me right now they’d just assume I was one of your research subjects. They would never think I was Hot Guy,” Scar said flippantly cutting off the upcoming admonishment, but he knew Cub would see through the nonchalance. Technically, Scar was one of Cub’s research subjects- something Cub did not appreciate being pointed out. Their friendship had long since changed from what it once was- all for the ‘greater good’.

“Scar, you know you could quit. No one would fault you.” Cub mumbled turning his back to Scar and leaning forward against his workstation. It was a nice sentiment- but they both knew that wasn’t an option. It existed, sure, but no way would the Hero Association allow their #1 to retire. Scar had known for a long time the job would probably cost him his life.

“Yes, they would.”

Scar did not need to elaborate. Cub was far smarter than he showed half the time, he’d understand.

They both knew who would blame him.

“Besides, it’s not all bad. Insurance isn’t a problem anymore at least.”

Cub turned and flung one of the bolts he had on his table at Scar’s head. Scar laughed while deflecting it. Thankfully, even without his robotic legs on- Scar’s reflexes were always on point. So long as he didn’t have to use his actual legs. Then he would be in trouble.

“Besides, I’ve got someone to keep an eye on now,” Scar said dreamily staring off into space. He wasn’t sure what Cute Guy would do if Hot Guy up and disappeared one day. Probably celebrate. Or track him down and demand an explanation. Probably both, and depending on the day the order of that may vary.

He was not expecting the quick whap to the back of his head.

“OW!” Scar ducked down rubbing the spot,” What was that for?” Scar exclaimed as Cub retreated to the table. Apparently, reflexes didn’t work on anything larger than bolts, because of course, that is how Scars’ brain worked.

“No simping in my lab,” Cub stated glaring and pointing at Scar before turning his attention back to the table. Scar wanted to argue that he had not been simping but knew that would only result in another whap to the back of his head. The spot was already tender enough, thank you very much.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Scar muttered still rubbing the spot softly. Judging by the strength of that whack, maybe Cub should be the hero- though Scar knew he wouldn’t be able to do Cub’s job in return.

“Alrighty Mr. Simp, let’s try these on for size,” Cub stated, turning with his arms full of Scar’s robotic legs. The material looked slightly different, more compression around his thighs, and calves.

Cub noticed his glances at the newer modifications, “I was reviewing some of the recent footage. You were having a hard time moving in the other design, so I added more sensors into the major muscle groups, and a better neural interface here. I will need to see the one on the back of your neck before you head out and make sure the signal is still connected,”

Scar glanced from the legs, up to Cubs' faces, and then back down to the legs.

“These sensors are going to hurt aren’t they,” Scar asked, but he already knew the answer. To get his fake legs to work with his real ones, they had to connect deep into the muscles and his nervous system to receive messages from his brain, and the special implant there, on when to move. It took them several years, and numerous prototypes to achieve it. Even now, Cub still has to make consistent improvements to the sensors. There were options that wouldn’t have caused so much scarring, but the response time and strength of his legs would have suffered. That was a risk the HA wouldn’t allow.

Cub was proud of them at least. Every time Scar busted them up, Cub ripped him a new one about destroying “his babies”. Scar had earned a nice whack on the head when he shot back that his “babies” clearly weren’t good enough for the hero. He hadn’t made such comments since though.

Scar appreciated the HA’s push on making the legs as strong as possible, though. During every fight, Scar had to worry if one misplaced kick would cause the whole thing to fall apart. So far, though, they’ve held it together.

His legs and their lie. This overwhelming, heavy lie, he had to ensure they both held together.

Something on this scale would have been impossible a hundred years ago. Even a decade ago it had been near impossible. It was only thanks to Cub that things like this existed for him to begin with.

Cub had tried arguing with the HA when they insisted on the new legs, saying Scar didn’t need them. When his disease had started rearing its ugly head, the HA had to scramble to keep such a promising recruit. He was a sniper, he could just stay as a sniper- was the crux of Cub’s argument. The HA denied this- citing that Hot Guy could be needed in the middle of fights. As with everything in the City, if the Hero Association wanted something- they got it.

As a result, Scar had bruises, scars, and prick marks up and down his legs. Not the mention the various drugs they kept him on, and the testing they had put him through. The scars he knew if anyone saw he wouldn’t be able to explain away. Scars that nearly encased his legs entirely, as well as the ones on his torso and the base of his neck. Funnily enough for as much of his skin, as his hero costume showed- his scars were entirely hidden from the public.

Of course, they were.

Scar and Cub knew the real reason they had demanded he get prosthetics in the first place. It wasn’t a good look on them. Back then, Scar had just been excited that he could still be a hero. The HA needed him to look as normal as possible. He hadn’t known the cost until it was too late to back out. Perhaps it had been too late to back out even before then. The HA was never really known for their level of tolerance. Sometimes, Scar had to wonder if Cub ever regretted joining in on his dream to become a Hero. If Scar was restricted, then Cub definitely was. Scar could go out and pretend to have another life- something Cub had been deemed too dangerous to be allowed to do. It wasn’t really a joke that Cub’s lab had become his home. So, here they were trapped- trying to live up to two kids' impossible dreams.

It wasn’t all bad though, and Scar could never bring himself to regret it. No matter how much he hurt some days- every day he remained a hero, he was able to save someone.

That’s all that mattered to him, though he did feel guilty he had dragged Cub into this mess.

Cub was less than pleased they were treating Scar as nothing more than a machine to test neuroprostheses, but he was not in a place where he could speak out against it. If Scar was trapped, Cub most definitely was. Cub was the only human alive who could keep the machines working, as well as improving them. Plus, he was the only one Scar was willing to work with. Thus they were stuck.

“Have you had time to review the footage from the alleyway yesterday?” Scar questioned, wheeling himself closer to the medical bed readying himself to move up to it.

“Yes and no,” Cub said moving to grab his tablet from the desk,” I got all of yesterday's footage, but there was nothing of note that occurred,” Cub explained while pulling the footage up and onto the large screen behind the lab table. Scar frowned at that.

“Cub a building collapsed,” he pointed out, wondering if Cub was losing it for apparently having not noticed.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Cub responded dismissively waving his hand as if to brush that part aside,” but other than that I can’t find anything that would have caused the building to just fall like that.”

Scar sighed and rubbed his face harshly. He had asked Cub to review the cameras from the area 24 hours before the accident because no matter how many times he ran it through his head, there should have been no way for the building to have fallen the way it had.

Scar should know. The University had designs for all the buildings constructed in the past two hundred years in Upper City. A normal creeper explosion would have been planned for in the building process- a fact Scar knew it had been. That could only mean-

“So then there was something wrong with that creeper,” Scar stated, strapping the new legs over his own and starting the synthesis to the neurological communicator. As they synced, Scar grabbed the top for his hero outfit and made the valiant effort of pulling his shorts on while remaining sitting.

“Well, we don’t know that either,” Cub started pausing the footage as Scar entered the alleyway. Yes, as creepers had that nasty habit of blowing themselves up, it wasn’t like they left clues as to how they did it. All the evidence that creeper had, died with it. “It’s possible that I missed something or the building had been tampered with prior to yesterday.”

“That doesn’t explain why the thing exploded 20 feet away from myself and Cute Guy, Cub.” Scar pointed out placing his tinted glasses over his face. They were enhanced and tied to his bow, giving him a sharpshooter-like skill with it. Cub had been particularly proud of the design all those years ago when they had begun to design just how Scar would fight.

“There’s… also the possibility that,” Cub trailed off looking pointedly away from Scar. Scar had a feeling where this was going.

“That what Cub?” Scar froze, his voice colder than it had been in a while. The silence that followed weighed heavily on them both, only breaking when the prosthetic legs beeped to confirm they were connected and functioning properly.

“Scar you have to understand there is a possibility that Cute Guy led you into a trap,” Cub began but Scar cut him off.

“Nope, not a chance. No way.” Scar stated shaking his head. He got up off the bed, testing his weight on the legs before moving to the door. Cub rushed in front arms thrown wide to stop him from leaving. Scar was distinctly reminded of their conversation from earlier, only now, Scar was looking down at Cub instead of up.

“Scar, you know-” Once more Scar did not listen, choosing instead to take advantage of the height and strength difference. Picking him up, Scar moved him aside. Cub squawked indignantly at the action, interrupting his tirade briefly. But that’s all that Scar needed.

“Right now the only thing I know, Cub, is that Cute Guy saved my life yesterday. That’s a debt not easily repaid, and I will not stand here and allow you to talk badly about her. Especially when they are not here to defend themselves.” Scar walked out the door and towards one of the secret passageways that would lead him secretly out of the Heros building.

“Scar you know-”

“It’s Hot Guy, Cub,” Hot Guy corrected over his shoulder as the door shut in Cub’s shocked face. Ignoring the pang of guilt that coursed through him, Hot Guy walked forward into the eerily yellow light tunnel.

Hot Guy didn’t bother to turn back around as he faced forward into the tunnel system. A massive spherical tunnel, with the only light coming from storm lights every six feet. It was by far the creepiest area in Upper City, and the first couple of times Hot Guy had used the tunnels he was amazed there had never been any monsters in them. Eventually, he stopped jumping at every noise penetrating from the city above, expecting it to be a monster, but he usually stayed on alert in them.

However, today, Hot Guy's mind was otherwise occupied.

Stomping through the underground tunnels to the opening onto 3rd Street where he could begin his patrol. After about 30 seconds, Scar did feel extremely guilty about snapping at Cub like he had. It wasn’t like him to just, snap like that. Deep down he knew that it wasn’t Cub’s fault, and on any other occasion, Scar would never.

Cub had been to hell and back with Scar. Always there, believing in his dream and creating the very legs he stood on.

Yet, Scar yelled at him.

For Cute Guy.

Pausing in the ambient tunnel, Scar considered what this meant. Could Cub have been right? Not about the buildings collapsing, Scar knew there was no one else he could blame for that other than himself. Yet, since the very moment they had appeared, they seemed to occupy Scar’s every thought. Moving to the side, Hot Guy released a sigh and leaned against the slopping wall.

They knew she was powerful… was it possible though? And why? What possible motive could she have had to put them both in danger?

Scar shook his head of the thoughts. All of that was assuming Cute Guy meant some sort of harm, and Scar’s very soul seemed to reject the very notion that Cute Guy was the enemy.

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."

Scar couldn’t remember where that saying had come from, but from some deep recess of his mind, it came to him now.

Was that it then?

Hot Guy's eyes widened underneath his visor as his breathing picked up. Leaning against the curved wall of the tunnel, he tried to calm down. He knew he liked the avian, but this, this wasn’t just a crush. Hot Guy had crushes before ever meeting the hybrid, but all of those seemed to pale in comparison to whatever Scar was feeling now. Hot Guy wasn’t even sure if love was enough to encompass this overwhelming feeling.

A hole that Scar hadn’t even realized was there, suddenly filled.

Scar felt whole.

“Shit,”

The word seemed to reverberate in the eerie silence of the tunnel and startled a laugh from Hot Guy. He had never been one to let out explicit language, usually it was when he was trying to say another word entirely, but that one felt deserved all things considered.

Hot Guy pushed his visor up and pinched his eyes shut.

“Okay, then,”

Pushing himself up off the wall, Hot Guy smirked to himself as he reopened his eyes. Clearly, there was something else going on, and Hot Guy was willing to bet Cute Guy knew all about it. Scar believed the moon would crash into the planet before he actually got answers from the hybrid.

That was okay though, Hot Guy took pleasure in never really knowing what was going on. Everything happens as it will. Resigning himself to at least apologize to Cub for the way he had acted, Hot Guy pushed himself off of the wall.

Continuing down the hallway, Hot Guy whistled to himself, to pass the time. After what felt like a millennium, Hot Guy reached the exit door. Camouflaged into the side of the tunnel, there was a faint indention. It was only after using this exit a million times, Hot Guy was able to remember where the cover for the keypad was.

Slipping the cover off of the keypad, Hot Guy entered the password 02192011, waiting just a moment to hear the beep of confirmation, Hot Guy slid the cover back on and watched as the door opened up. Revealing a dark basement, Hot Guy poked his head through the entranceway to check for anything.

Seeing no one, Hot Gut exited the tunnel completely, not bothering to turn to watch the door soundlessly close behind him. Forcing the new revelations into the corner of his mind to be dealt with on the walk home from the tunnel, Hot Guy bounded up the stairs that would lead to the ground floor and another staircase that could lead up to the roof.

When looking for a being that can fly, best do it from a vantage point.

Hot Guy shoved the metal door open to the roof. Hot Guy whistled as he walked, some tune he couldn’t remember where he had heard, and casually surveyed the sky.

The empty skyline.

Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Hot Guy sighed in disappointment. Placing his hands on his hips, Scar stared at the concrete and tile on the building. Quickly checking the sky once more, just to make sure he hadn’t blinked and missed the hybrid, Hot Guy was met with the same empty blue.

Sighing again, the sky turned his gaze down to face the city streets properly. While it was fairly uncommon for him to spot Cute Guy this early, Hot Guy never stopped trying to spot him the second he hit the streets. Scar couldn’t even be sure that she would show up today- she had taken a massive hit yesterday. Who knows how long she’d be out of commission? That was probably the part Scar hated the most. The not knowing, and having no way to check on them. Besides, until then there was always the view. The city skyline had long been one of Hot Guy’s favorites- even before meeting Cute Guy. The tall skyscrapers of the city proper were exhilarating to traverse, and so far up, some of the noise from down below was dampened. It was one of the few places that didn’t remind him of just how enclosed they were. At least until he saw the edges of the wall. Calling it a wall was a bit of an overstatement. The entire thing worked as a large circle, extending 50 miles from one side to the other. Within it, nearly 1.5 million people lived and worked.

Normally, humans weren’t able to see the wall from the city center, but Hot Guy’s glasses allowed him to see the base of it from his position at the center's edge. No matter where you were within the city, the walls extended so far up they were impossible to not notice. Always serving as a reminder.

The population was a record high, and of course, many people were concerned with just how they were going to continue to sustain themselves. Food shortages had begun to grow for the poorer communities, and more and more people were finding themselves without. It had led to many people returning to the Old Religion- as if all of this were a punishment from the Gods. Or perhaps they just hoped they could grant their disciples a larger cage.

It was no wonder many people viewed Cute Guy as either a harbinger of doom or the last hope for change. Although, for most, it was the former. Speaking of thought, Hot Guy was reminded of his self-discovery within the tunnel.

It was almost insulting just how bad Hot Guy had let his feelings get before he even recognized them, but he had shoved that revelation to when he could complain to Jellie about it, and have her judge him.

As is the cycle of having a cat.

Acknowledging the fact that Cute Guy did not want to make a bright and dazzling appearance, Hot Guy resigned himself to a boring patrol. Sometimes, Hot Guy wondered why the Heros needed to patrol so frequently. Between 40 heroes, they split the shits into four with 10 heroes working per shift. No hero was allowed to abandon their post before they had met and briefed the arriving hero.

Hot Guy could see this as necessary if the city was wracked with crime. But other than the occasional monster, the worst thing Hot Guy seemed to encounter was purse snatchers and handsy civilians. Every once in a while it was a house fire, but even that was rare.

Hot Guy could also see that the number and steps made sense if the heroes were weak and required backup. Yet, Hot Guy knew that was not the case either. The other Heros were strong, some stronger than Hot Guy.

So, why this patrol schedule?

Maybe it was just to make the civilians feel better, was the best guess Hot Guy had been able to come up with. Though, it wasn’t like Hot Guy would ever know for sure. It wasn’t like the Hero Association was rushing to explain their decisions. Hot Guy was expected to be a good Hero- a good soldier- and not raise those types of questions.

Taking a running start, Hot Guy leaped over to the next roof, only breaking his line of sight from the horizon to ensure he landed on the roof. He’d only ever missed once, in the early days, but the earful he had received after ensured he always at least checked. Hot Guy wasn’t really in the mood to give Cub another reason to fuss at him, upon his return to headquarters.

Hot Guy continued leaping from roof to roof as the sun descended behind the wall and coated the city in dusk. Still with no sign of Cute Guy. No sign of any monsters either, which Hot Guy wasn’t really surprised about.

Hot Guy plopped down on the edge of a roof neck bent so he could watch the still-illuminated sky. In moments such as this, it was all he could do to wonder what the world was like without the wall. He knew realistically, it wouldn’t be this peaceful abode the citizens needed, but it would be free. Security vs freedom. Even after all these years of looking up, Hot Guy wasn’t sure which one was better. Though it did him no good to wonder, the walls were there, and it wasn’t like there was anything Hot Guy could do to get rid of them. Pretty pointless to envision a future based on something he had less than no control over.

Huffing out a breath, Hot Guy closed his eyes and let the city ambiance run over him.

“I think you’re getting a bit lazy over there Hot Guy,” a voice said, amusement peaking through. Startled, Hot Guy's eyes shot open to meet shrouded purple eyes.

“AH!” Hot Guy yelled falling back to land on the roof. Cute Guy laughed as he flew forward, extending his arm to help Hot Guy off his back.

“Ya know that’s not exactly disproving my point,” she continued to laugh as Hot Guy grabbed her hand. Using their wings, Cute Guy pulled the hero up, before softly landing next to him on the rooftop.

“Hey, I was taking a brief moment to… listen to my surroundings,”

“Uh-huh, and then how was I able to scare you?”

“See, I was actually just testing you… and what you might do in this … situation…” Hot Guy assured, ignoring the fire that spread across his face,” Anyways, I wouldn’t be one to start throwing around the laziness accusations Ms. Three-Hours-Late,”

“How can I be late if we didn’t have scheduled time to meet?” Cute Guy tilted her head to the side as she asked.

“Please, we both know that you’re usually out on the same days I am. I’m just your favorite like that!” Hot Guy exclaimed holding a hand under his massive grinning face. Cute Guy just stared at him blankly until Hot Guy dropped his hand down to rest on his hip.

“Were you busy with something though?” He asked hesitantly. He knew better than anyone, that Cute Guy didn’t share personal information. Yet, today, something seemed off. On the surface, Cute Guy looked the same as he always did, but Hot Guy could tell the difference. His wings seemed puffed up more, and the darkness obscuring his eyes seemed to be dripping further down. Even the shade of his eyes seemed to be a deeper purple than usual. Wherever they had been, clearly something had happened.

Instead of a response though, Cute Guy sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Hot Guy couldn’t help but track the movement, only noticing as her hand dropped back down, subtle shaking of her fingers. Turning around she faced the direction of the setting sun. Hot Guy couldn’t help but glance down at his wings. After all, it had only been yesterday since the buildings collapsed, one glance and Hot Guy couldn’t see a single mark on either her wings or back. It was like all evidence of the event was erased. Expect, of course, the still destroyed area in the city.

“I can feel your eyes, Hot Guy. What is it?”

“There’s not a single mark from yesterday.” Hot Guy murmured without thought, so focused on Cute Guy's back it would have been impossible for him to miss the tensing of her back.

“And?” Cute Guy questioned tersely, their wings seeming to puff up even more. Hot Guy may not have studied birds, or animals for that matter, but he knew Cute Guy. Something was wrong.

Scar shook himself out of his mini trance. Nothing good would come from scaring her off, because he was incapable of making conversation like a normal person.

“I’m just glad that my mistake didn’t leave permanent damage. Don’t know if I’d been able to forgive myself for that one,” Hot Guy said turning his gaze from his back towards the skyline once more, not wanting to overwhelm her any more than he already had. For whatever reason, Hot Guy seemed to be fumbling every social interaction today.

“You’re too full of yourself, Pretty Boy,”

Hot Guy froze the words echoing in his ear.

Pretty Boy

Be still my beating heart.

Hot Guy fought in silence against the rising heat in his cheeks. Cute Guy leaned over the railing- staring out over the city. With his back to him still, Hot Guy realized something. He moved to lean beside the vigilante. Resting his back against the railing, he turned his gaze directly skyward.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“I mean that was one, but I suppose I can afford you another.”

“How do you- ya know hide your… features?” Hot Guy fumbled, wincing as he did so. Eloquently said. He really should have planned this out better, Cute Guy was already in no mood to talk about personal things, and Hot Guy himself hadn’t exactly proved himself to be an expert off conversation today.

Cute Guy didn’t respond. Didn’t even acknowledge the question. Hot Guy allowed the silence for a moment before his mouth moved again. No matter how old he got, Hot Guy always felt the need to keep talking when he got uncomfortable.

“I mean, I know that hybrids are based on animals or monsters I guess,” Cute Guy tensed at that but Hot Guy pushed on, “But I can’t think of a single creature with fluffy pink wings.”

Cute Guys hands tensed around the railing, before he smirked up at him, “Like I’d tell you, Cop.” Hot Guy smiled back, before realizing something. In all the years he’d been a Hero there was something he hadn’t thought about before.

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever even seen another hybrid with wings.” It wasn’t a question, and Cute Guy glared at him in response.

Abort.

For a moment tense silence passed.

“And?” Cute Guy said tersely. It wasn’t a question.

“I just meant…”

“No, please, please continue to tell me how as an expert on all things monstrous and you’ve not seen a monster like me before. Please continue to fish for your beloved Hero’s Association, information about the new threat till they know how to kill it! Did they tell you to ask that? Is that why you’ve been pretending to be nice to me?” Cute Guy shouted, letting go of the railing and jabbing his finger into his chest. Hot Guy backed up from the accusation raising to wave his hands in front of him.

“No, Cute Guy that’s not-”

“Not what? Not exactly what you’re doing right now?”

“I’ve known you for nearly a year now! And I know almost nothing about you in all that time. I just wanted-” Hot Guy persisted, but it was clear Cute Guy was no longer listening.

“CG, I wouldn’t share what you tell me with them, I just wanted to know more about you and-”

“And what? To sate your curiosity on the monsters you people hate?” Cute Guy's wings puffed up more, her eyes radiated a deeper purple, and Hot Guy could swear her irises made some sort of shape, as the darkness around his eyes grew larger. It creaked down his cheeks in streamlike rivers.

Like tears, Hot Guy realized.

“Cute Guy I -”

“No, no, clearly this was all a mistake,” Cute Guy said hollowly, her face entirely blank, “Goodbye, Hot Guy.” Cute Guy turned and rose into the air. A weight fell in Hot Guy's stomach as a chill passed through his entire body.

“Wait!” Hot Guy lept forward grabbing her hand before she would fly off. As he did, a burning sensation went through his body from his hand. Glancing down at his hand grasping hers, he noticed some deep purple-like smoke emitting from their joined hands.

Burning him he realized.

Cute Guy looked down as if only now realizing the smoke. Roughly, Cute Guy retracted their hand staring down at the escaping smoke still emitting from his now open palm. Hot Guy didn’t spare a glance at his own before trying to grab Cute Guy once more, uncaring of the new wound, so long as she didn’t leave him.

“Please, I didn’t mean-” but Hot Guy knew Cute Guy wasn’t listening. Instead, she stared at Hot Guy's hand, the one that had previously grabbed her. Glancing down, Hot Guy realized the glove covering his palm had burnt away, leaving deep red marks ingrained in the skin there. Hot Guy barely felt it- training had left most of the nerves practically numb. He was fairly sure he could reach into boiling oil and only feel it on his wrists. But Cute Guy didn’t know that. Glancing back up, Hot Guy watched as Cute Guy backed further away, before hovering over the edge of the roof, just out of reach. All Hot Guy could do was watch as the black marks dragged further down his face, reaching her jaw.

“I’m sorry,” Cute Guy brokenly whispered, almost looking through Hot Guy as if seeing something else in his place. Her eyes vacantly stared just to the left of Hot Guy's face, horror and grief etched deeply in her expression. It was almost more heartbreaking than the previous vacant look.

Hot Guy opened his mouth to try and fix what he did wrong, but before he could, Cute Guy turned and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Hot Guy stared at the space in the air that had just been occupied before falling to sit on the roof.

So, in total, Hot Guy had been short to his childhood friend for insinuating that his crush was actually evil. Not great. Then he turned around and called said crush a monster when they were clearly already upset. Rubbing a hand over his face, Hot Guy let out a low groan.

“Great job, Hot Guy. Really one of our better days of social interactions,”

#hermitblr #hermitcraft #desert duo #desert duo vigilante au #grian #superhero au #ao3 fanfic #cute guy grian #ao3 writer #archive of our own #ddvau #ddvau cuteguy #ddvau hotguy #ddvau grian #ddvau goodtimeswithscar #life series #limited life #cubfan135 #gtws hermitcraft

25 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 3 months ago

Text

DDVAU- Chapter 5 Sneak peek: You're too full of yourself, Pretty Boy

Hot Guys POV

“Yes, they would.”

Scar did not need to elaborate. Cub was far smarter than he showed half the time, he’d understand.

They both knew who would blame him.

“Besides, it’s not all bad. Insurance isn’t a problem anymore at least.”

He was not expecting the quick whap to the back of his head.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Scar muttered still rubbing the spot tenderly. Judging by the strength of that whack, maybe Cub should be the hero- though Scar knew he wouldn’t be able to do Cub’s job in return.

42 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 3 months ago

Text

Who Are You, Really? ~ A Desert Duo Vigilante Alternate Universe

Masterlist

Tumblr Links

Chapter 1: Meeting of the Board- Hot Guy

Chapter 2: You're a Real Hero- Cute Guy

Chapter 3: All For a Parking Pass- Scar

Chapter 4: I Do Not Have a Crush- Grian

Chapter 5: You're too full of yourself, Pretty Boy- Hot Guy

Ao3 Links

Chapter 1: Meeting of the Board- Hot Guy

Chapter 2: You're a Real Hero- Cute Guy

Chapter 3: All for a Parking Pass- Scar

Chapter 4: I Do Not Have a Crush- Grian

Chapter 5: You're too full of yourself, Pretty Boy- Hot Guy

24 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 3 months ago

Text

Update from a Friend

Hello everyone,

I want to thank everyone for their messages and likes on the previous post. I was nervous about posting and even more upset about having to do so.

I want to talk about Oblique though. I really want to talk about her, but I’m not sure where to start.

I guess the best place would be when I met her.

Back in 2020, when absolutely nothing was going wrong, I met Oblique on the first day of our in-person classes at our University. It was also her 19th birthday, and I didn’t know then that I’d only have a little less than a year before the Oblique I knew would change.

Oblique was late to the class, and when she got there she looked at me with my short dyed hair and audibly stated “Ahh, a safe queer,” and plopped into the seat next to me. Again, on the first day of class, in her first year. Thankfully, the professor had been in her department and had also found it funny.

From then on, Oblique and I were nearly inseparable despite having two very different majors. See, I was majoring in English- and although I dropped out, Oblique continued her degree in mathematics.

Yup. Math.

Let’s just say our homework assignments always looked very different.

For that year, Oblique and I did practically everything together, and it was through her that I found communities like the Dream SMP, but mainly that of Technoblade. While I never got really into it- Oblique and I would make whole events out of watching Techno’s streams especially when we had gotten exposed to COVID-19 and had to quarantine together for two weeks in an apartment on campus. Thankfully, neither of us had covid, instead, we spent those two days mainly goofing off. Sometimes, interrupted by Oblique trying to explain whatever math she was learning, which I vehemently hated, but she tried nonetheless.

After that semester, we went our separate ways back home for the summer. However, we did still see each other frequently. I have spent the past three years looking back, trying to see what signs I missed, and what I could’ve done sooner for Oblique.

The first time I remember Oblique showing signs of being sick was maybe two weeks before her official diagnosis, but there's no doubt she was suffering long before then. Oblique had a rough life before she turned 17, and as a result, she often hid how she was feeling. Either physical or mental, Oblique always tried to power through it.

The day I realized something was wrong I had just picked Oblique up and we were headed back to my house, when I realized she had spent most of the ride holding her chest. Normally, we’d be screaming out our emo songs the whole way back, but she had been pretty quiet the whole ride. She kept her eyes closed and was tapping her other hand. At first, I thought she was having a panic attack, since I had seen her have those before and tapping was a way to keep herself grounded, but this was different.

I ended up pulling into some parking lot and trying to figure out what was wrong, but even now I’m not sure if Oblique was able to hear me let alone speak. I don’t know how long it was before she finally was okay, but after she laughed it off as an old asthma attack and they were going to be getting her a new inhaler soon.

She didn’t answer when I asked how long those had been happening.

A few weeks later she told me she had cancer.

We were meant to be rooming together that year, and she called me to come over a week before the move-in date because things would be very different than we had planned. I can’t remember how exactly I felt at that moment either. I think just overwhelmingly numb.

It didn’t feel real, and even now it doesn’t.

Oblique was the strongest person I have ever known. She had survived so much and made it farther than anyone thought she would have.

I think that, coupled with just how much she hid how badly it was affecting her meant a lot of people thought she would survive. She would be the one to beat the odds.

The first time I can remember her showing how affected she was, was right before she was going to start chemo. It was a few weeks after her diagnosis, and she had asked me to take her to get her hair cut. Oblique's hair meant a lot to her. She grew up in a situation where having shorter hair was safer and easier, so when she got out, she started to let it grow out. My therapist explained that for lots of people who survived those conditions would hold physical reminders of what they survived. By that point, it was nearly at her waist. I asked if there was an option to have her do a cold cap, but she didn’t even ask if it was. She told me that her hair had always been a testament to what she had survived and that if she didn’t survive having her long hair would defeat the purpose.

So, we went. And she chopped it all off and donated it. That night when we had made it back to the apartment, Oblique went to her room without saying anything. For the rest of the night, I pretended that I couldn’t hear her crying to herself. I wanted to go in and comfort her, but Oblique didn’t want anyone to see her crying, and I didn’t want to make things worse.

The only other time I saw her breakdown was when Technoblade passed. I do want to tell that story at some point, but right now it's still just too fresh. I think that coupled with one of the girls she had made friends with also passing a few days later was too much for her. Up until the time she got covid, that was the closest Oblique came to passing.

As far as Hermitcraft goes, I am extremely grateful to it. After everything, I really do think being a part of the community and being able to watch a full season like that did wonders for her. I’m ashamed to admit that I wasn’t aware she was even writing this fic. Oblique was constantly working on something, and it wasn’t uncommon for her to hide it. We all thought it was letters for us, and while that was a part of it, the fic was a surprise.

She mentioned in a post that she wanted to get Smallishbeans, or Joels, TCG card to add to her collection of hermits, and I am waiting to see when/if they get more currently.

In concerns to the fic, Who are you, really? I have at this point read up to the last chapter she posted. The next chapter as well as two of the later ones are near completion- with all others mapped out and highly detailed on how they should go. I haven’t brought myself to begin working on it other than that so far. I would like to at least get the next chapter out before Halloween, maybe two if it isn’t too hard. I should mention that I am not as well educated in Hermitcraft as Obligue, so some things I will have to double check which may take a while. I did take the time to read the comments as well on Ao3, and I’ll probably have to make a post there so not everyone finds out from the comments.

I’m writing this a few days before posting it, and have been working on it for a while so if it seems a bit disjointed that’s why. It’s very difficult to write this all out at once.

I was originally going to post this on her birthday in early September, but I didn’t have the heart to. I spent that day with her family, and we held a small birthday party for her. She would’ve been 23. I’ll probably post about that at a different time as well.

Thank you all once again for supporting Oblique. I’m glad she was able to experience a community like Hermitcraft.

See ya’ll later.

#hermitblr #hermitcraft #desert duo #desert duo vigilante au #grian #superhero au #ao3 fanfic #cute guy grian #ao3 writer #archive of our own #goodtimeswithscar #hot guy scar #ddvau #ddvau cuteguy #ddvau hotguy #ddvau grian #desertduo vigilante au #gtws hermitcraft #health

17 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 4 months ago

Text

A Post from a Friend

Hello, everyone. I am not Obliqueblade, and for those who have been here before, I’m sure you know what that means. For those unaware, or those stumbling across this blog in the future, I will explain.

The original owner of this account, my best friend, has died.

I didn't even know that she had a Tumblr, nor that she had planned to leave it with me after everything. It breaks my heart a bit to see her updates and talk about her prognosis as she did.

I’m sure I’ll have more to say, eventually, I do plan on doing as she asked, completing her work the way she wanted- but for now, I want to grieve my friend. Then, I want to talk about who she was, explain just how much this community meant to her, and generally just talk about one of the greatest people I’ve known.

She did leave a message she wrote a month ago, about a week before she passed, and I would like to share it with you all now.

Feel free to leave comments, I’ll be back to answer soon.

Thank you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have been putting this off for quite some time, but I fear I have no more time I can delay. Despite everything, I’m still a procrastinator at heart. I have spent far too much time thinking of how I want to address those who have stumbled onto my account and on my writing, but I fear for all my writing I am not sure how to word what I feel.

Rather than continuing to wait, I have decided to write what I have collected of my thoughts thus far. I deeply appreciate those who have left likes, comments, and reposts of my writing- even those outside of “Who are you, really?”. When I started this journey, I had not anticipated it taking as long as it has. I also did not foresee what would occur at that time. I had thought I would live to see the end of my fic, but that can no longer be the case.

But that is the way life works, I suppose. Most people are not dealt the hands they deserve, nor are they given nearly enough time.

I have always wished to help people- I had hoped that I would be able to achieve that in my life, but I am not sure I can say I have. Regardless, I am grateful for those who were able to contribute to my happiness these past few years.

Recently, I have to admit I took a step back from writing, as well as watching Hermitcraft. I fear my heart may not be able to take not knowing what I will be left never to know. Waiting on those cliffhangers of “what’s next”- when I do not know if I will wake up tomorrow.

I am satisfied with what I have seen so far, and as of writing this, Joel has announced his own TCG common card. I have asked the friend I have left this account for to get one on my behalf to join the others I have. I would like them, as well as all the merch I have to be with me. It feels important that even though I will no longer be here, those stay with me.

While I may not be watching Hermitcraft as I wait, I am pleased with the memories I carry—the joy they bring me. The edits, art, and stories this community has created supported and distracted me in some of my darkest moments, and I truly regret that I will not be able to finish this story, with my own words, the way I had intended.

Finally, I want to say, thank you. Even if you are discovering all of this after my passing, I am grateful to all those who have stumbled into my little corner of the internet. Just because I am gone, the things I have gotten to create will forever remain as moments captured from a different time.

This was truly the happiest few years of my life and in the words of Technoblade himself

“I hope you all go on to live long, prosperous, and happy lives because I love you guys”

~ObliqueBlade Out

#hermitblr #hermitcraft #desert duo #desert duo vigilante au #grian #superhero au #ao3 fanfic #cute guy grian #ao3 writer #archive of our own #unsure what to tag this as #hot guy scar #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft10

45 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 7 months ago

Text

Hello everyone 💛

As many of you are aware today should have been Technoblades 25th Birthday. His dad asked us for our way of remembering him on this day.

I discovered Techno’s channel back in 2019, and for the experiences I got to have as apart of the community I can never be more thankful for. Techno was and always will be an inspiration.

I’ve talked about this is certain places before, but I was diagnosed with a form of Lung Cancer a few weeks before Techno released his first video about his diagnosis. I was worried, but I was also comforted because while I was undergoing Chemo, surgeries, and drug trials; the person I looked up to the most was undergoing the same thing.

Realistically, I thought Techno would outlive me.

When the news broke, I was devastated, and I largely gave up on trying to get better. I cannot put into words just how badly it affected me, and then a few short weeks later I lost another friend to leukemia.

But, I survived this time too. I realized that when I died, all the memories I got to make as a part of this amazing fan base would disappear- and I didn’t want that.

However, I knew it wouldn’t last forever. For those of you who have seen my tumblr, my health has been steadily declining the past few months.

I don’t want it to come to a surprise when I don’t live through this summer.

I’m not upset by this, in fact, I’m amazed I’ve gotten nearly four years after being diagnosed. I’m grateful to everyone for being apart of my memories.

I’m grateful for this community- for remembering Techno.

I’m grateful to Technodad for making sure his son’s memory is used for good, despite the grief it brings him.

I’ve recommended to my mom and dad his videos and posts about how he’s been getting through his grief, and I hope that when the time comes it can help them as much as it’s helped me.

I’m not saddened to go. I’ve had a good run.

Happy Birthday Alex.

For my Tumblr peeps, don’t worry about the story. I’ve written how each chapter shall go, and while I most likely won’t be the one writing it after this coming chapter it will be in the hands of someone I trust. While the words won’t be mine, I know they’ll follow the way I wanted the story to go.

I’m not sure if it will be me updating again, and when it might be if so.

Thank you guys so much for all your support with this fic. I cannot express how much it means to me that there are people out there who have enjoyed it.

Take care 💛

#technoblade #technoblade25 #sick #hermitcraft #happy birthday #cancer #desert duo vigilante au #hermitblr #desert duo #superhero au #grian #cute guy grian #ao3 fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 writer

110 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 8 months ago

Text

DDVAU: Chapter 4- I do not have a Crush

Grian POV

This was not the direction that Grian had expected his life to go. Well, he might not remember what direction he had originally expected his life to go. Still, he was reasonably certain that grading papers and judging if/ how many of his students had used ChatGBT to write their papers was something he had planned on.

If Grian had the time to spare, he’d take the time to destroy the infernal device.

Releasing a deep sigh, Grian leaned back in his office chair and spared a glance out the windows to his left. His office was on the top floor of the science building, and while the students, and only the students, hated the steep stairs when they had to meet with him, Grian loved the view from over campus. The campus was unfortunately nestled in the middle of the city, which meant billboards for as far as the eye can see, the science building was surrounded by more trees than most places within Upper City. Grian's office in particular had the best view of the greenhouses behind the building. There, the university boasted about all of the “foreign and endangered” species of plants. Grian knew that if any of the students could see beyond the wall, they would see just how common the plants were.

From this distance, the 75-meter walls were far enough away that Grian could pretend they weren’t there at all. Of course, that was difficult to pretend when the sun had started to descend and all of Upper City grew dark only a few hours after noon.

Still though, for being in a cage, the view at least was nice.

Glaring back at the stack of ungraded papers, Grian would appreciate the view more if he wasn’t stuck there till after nightfall to get them all graded. While the sun was not yet completely gone, Grian knew he wouldn’t be able to leave before nightfall if he were to sit and attempt to grade them all.

He closed his eyes and weighed the pros and cons of leaving the other half till tomorrow. He would have to come in earlier to get through them before the period began. An image of Scar's grinning face from that morning went through his mind, and Grian shook his head. No, that wouldn’t work. Perhaps he could just postpone handing them back till the day after. His students may not appreciate it, but Grian did not appreciate having to spend hours checking for cheating.

Fair is fair.

Plus, Grian was really craving a coffee now.

Standing up, Grain's joints popped. They frequently did, and some of his students laughed and said he sounded like an old man every time he complained about his body aching. Grian had laughed with his students, not wanting to address he was far removed from just being ‘old’. At a certain point in his life, he had crossed that line, and Grian didn’t want to spend that much time trying to figure out when this happened.

So far, aside from how it occurred, Grian could hardly remember anything from before. Even the spaces between were nearly impossible to remember most days. There were days when he was frightened of just how far his memory would dilapidate.

When he would be unable to recall the names of those he held dear.

Grian couldn’t even be sure if he would know it even happened. If it hadn’t happened already.

Were there people from before? Those he swore to keep safe that he couldn’t remember any longer? Perhaps he should ask Jimmy about this. He was, after all, the only one who might understand what he meant—the only one who might not regard him as crazy. At one time, there were more, but … not anymore.

Once again, Grian thought of Scar, before dismissing that.

“If I may though, about Cute Guy, I worry that they aren’t being safe, for sure, but hurting people? She would never.”

Grian was thankful he had centuries to work on controlling his expressions because all he wanted to do was squeal like a teenager at Scar’s remark. Or do something that would have been much harder to explain as a “human” action. Scar had no reason to trust the hybrid, and while Scar was seemingly endlessly kind, there was nothing Scar would seemingly get from saying this to Grian.

He had meant it.

Even though Scar had no idea that Cute Guy was Grian, and had never met Cute Guy he still felt the need to justify Cute Guy. All while understanding Grian’s apparent hesitancy to trust the hybrid.

He had not necessarily lied to Scar either though. Cute Guy was dangerous- Grian knew that better than anyone.

Looking out the window once more, Grian decided sitting and reminiscing was probably dangerous for his heart so coffee it was. Coffee would be less harmful to his heart than pinning over something that Grian had long sworn could not happen.

Swearing that had been much easier before meeting him though.

Grian scrambled around his office for a bit, trying to hunt his keys down before eventually finding them almost entirely consumed in papers. Glaring once more at the papers Grian was sure were beginning to grow sentience, Grian headed to the door. Shutting the lights off and closing the door behind him Grian readied himself for the five flights of stairs he would need to descend before being able to leave.

As much as he would love to just, ya know, fly down, that would be a bit difficult to explain if any of his students saw him. Or if cameras captured the event. While it was simple to edit footage, Grian had done it several times before, it was more effort than it was worth when Grian could in fact just walk.

After a grueling couple of minutes of stairs, Grian had reached the bottom and was pretending that his lungs didn’t want to burst out of his chest. Just in case anyone was watching.

Leaving the building, Grian made a beeline for where he had parked that morning. While the architect's building was just about the furthest point from Grian’s office, he had continued to park here every morning for the past several months.

“You don’t have to park over here. I know it must be inconvenient for you”

Scar had laughed, humorlessly after saying it, and Grian felt his heartache at the response.

“Oh please, if anything you’re helping me get my steps in,” Grian had laughed in response, knowing Scar had no way of knowing how animated he was in the classroom nor the stairs he went up several times a day. Shame filled him though after saying it, knowing he was a coward for not addressing the issue. Grian knew far more than most that overwhelming feeling that your mere existence was doing more harm than good. To be seen as an inconvenience. Something that you constantly felt the need to apologize for.

Now, Grian stopped in front of his car and looked up at the building he knew Scar spent most of his time in. He wasn’t sure where his office was. Jimmy made fun of him enough for driving Scar to work in the mornings, Grian didn’t need to give him any more ammo by discussing the ongoings of visiting his office.

Especially after yesterday. Jimmy had gone through several emotions before Mumbo cleared him and Jimmy settled on mocking him.

Sighing again, Grian unlocked his car and got in. He had offered to give Scar a ride home as well, but he had denied it, saying he had a friend who would.

Grian hadn’t pressed.

Was that how he referred to Grian if someone asked how he got to work?

Was Grian a friend to Scar?

Could he even be?

Shaking the negative thoughts from his head, Grian started up his car and began backing out of the space, focusing entirely on the drive. So long as he focused he could ensure that his mind would not wander and have him second guess decisions he had already made.

Leaving the campus, Grian took the familiar route to one of the few places in Upper City where he felt safe.

The Berri Café.

He had helped the two hybrids set it up after, and while only one worked full-time at the café, he still visited at least twice a week. He met with nearly all of the hybrids within Upper City at least once a month, doing check-ins and ensuring no one had fallen into trouble. After all, Grian was the reason that most hybrids made it into Upper City.

During the drive, Grian made a point to avoid looking at the new posters featuring his alter ego, or was Grian the alter at this point, as well as the numerous wanted posters filtering through their list of “criminals”. It had been hard enough accepting what had happened all those years ago, but nothing could have prepared him for the gut punch that the updated wanted board would cause him. Jimmy nearly hadn’t been able to talk him down from going into a full-out war with the Hero Association after that.

Unfortunately, Grian had noticed Scars' habit of staring at them. He never talked about them, but every morning, Scars' gaze never failed to land on one of the screens flickering through the individuals. Sometimes, Grian wanted to ask, demand he state whatever problem he had about the faces presented.

Faces Grian was all too knowledgeable on.

But, Grian knew it wasn’t Scar he was really angry at. Not really. Some days he wasn’t even sure if the Hero Association was who he was mad at.

You. You. You.

He was just unfortunate enough to know what that list really was. That wasn’t Scars’ fault, and it wasn’t something Grian could hold against him.

Scar would never be unfortunate enough to know the true nature of the signs.

A warning.

To the Hybrids.

To the ones from Evo.

To him.

A list of their accomplishments.

Hearing the steering wheel splitter slightly, Grian looked down to notice his hands radiating a faint purple glow, the material under giving way to the new overwhelming force. Taking a deep breath, Grian attempted to calm down. They were safe.

For now, some dark recess of his mind provided helpfully that Grian decided to ignore. After all these centuries, Grian had gotten better at suppressing that part of him. Glancing at the splintered sterling wheel once more though, better, but not perfect.

Finally, the cafe came into view and Grian turned into the parking lot, noting the darkened windows. Considering the time, the actual cafe was closed by now, but that suited Grian’s needs just fine.

This was not the first time Grian had visited this late, and Joel had yet to turn him away. Mainly since if Grian wanted in- Grian was going to get in. This did mean Joel would tease him relentlessly, absolutely, but never turn away. Plus it helped that he didn’t need a key to get in and out of the building.

Grian absentmindedly wondered if Lizzy would be joining them, but since she started working as a paramedic a few years after getting the shop set up, her hours tended to change suddenly. Plus, she was one of the only ones that the hybrids had that could provide medical assistance, so there were times when she was still called away. Joel handled this about as well as could be expected.

Grian almost had to step in at one point though. Lizzie had to cross back into Lower City to help after one of the newer pigmen had gotten into one of the towns. She had originally been meant to stay for two weeks to make sure there were no complications, but Grian had to cross back over and bring her back, as he had been convinced Joel was going to give himself food poisoning from one of the cakes he had taken ‘creative measures’ with.

Grian may no longer be considered “man”, but he was pretty sure some of the deserts Joel made could kill a God. Though, now that Grian thinks about it, that was probably intentionally done.

Getting out of the car, Grian shook the remaining negativity from himself. He and everyone here knew what they were signing into in going back. While they didn’t get a choice in the beginning, Grian made sure to give them a choice now.

Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

Grian sighed, turning on his heel and clicking the car lock as he made his way to the entrance of the cafe. There was a time and place for that negativity, Grian could hold it off for now.

Approaching the door, Grian didn’t waste a moment before phasing his hand through and unlocking the deadbolt before opening the door. See, personal keys.

Crossing the entryway Grian checked to see where Joel might have been, noting the empty and dark cafe floor. Sensing movement upstairs Grian narrowed his eyes. More than just one person, but Lizzie likely was not home so who… Grian paused a moment before rolling his eyes, recognizing the presence.

Heading up the stairs, Grian made his way to the living space above the cafe. Moving silently, Grian phased through the door and continued to where he could now hear voices.

“... Joel, please, please, tell me you did not put that in the cake,”

“... Yeah, what do you mean? Am I not supposed to?”

Grian took that moment to step around the corner and ask “What’s Joel done this time?”

Synchronized screams filled the air as both Jimmy and Joel riled around to face Grian, as he mostly hid his mischievous grin.

“Grian! How many times have I asked you to knock!” Joel exclaimed, but Grian knew he was more upset that he hadn’t been let in on the prank against Jimmy.

“I’m not sure, I stopped listening after the first thirty times,” Grian responded truthfully. After a while, Grian had hoped they would get better at detecting his presence. Never know when it would be useful.

“And Jimmy, you have got to get better at noticing my presence when I’m using my skills. It’ll be helpful to you later.” Grian flicked his glaze over to Jimmy who sighed and looked away.

“Now what’s this I hear about Joel baking new recipes again?”

Immediately, Joel moved to hide the table.

“Nothing,”

“... Joel. What have we talked about trying new recipes when you’re unsupervised?”

“That it is an affront to the Gods, and will get us exposed?” Joel tentatively asked.

“It’s bad Grian. I only came in halfway and by then it was too late to stop him.”

Grian and Joel stared at each other for a tense few moments, before Grian jerked forward to witness the new monstrosity that Joel had created. Joel moved to keep it covered, but Grian was quicker.

“Joel! What is that?”

“... it was meant to be a cake,”

“In what world does a cake look like that?” The last word was practically spat as the cake seemed to sludge in response. How Joel had been able to create something Grian as a biologist was tempted to call a life form was confounding.

“Well, if Doc ever needed another new design for his creations, he could always hit up Joel for ideas,” Jimmy offered and Grian only paled more.

Turning to look Joel in his eyes, Grian muttered tone near deadly, “If I ever have to fight a monster that turns into cake sludge, Joel, I’m sending you to the other side of the planet for a hundred years in a cage made of the stuff.”

“Understood.” Joel moved the disgrace to nature to its garbage bag, waiting and considering a moment before wrapping it up twice. Just in case.

“Speaking of fighting though,” Joel started and Grian’s stomach sank as he turned his gaze away from watching the dish in case it made any sudden movements.

“I saw your little accident yesterday on the news. I thought you were meant to be keeping yourself “on the down low”. A whole building collapsing did not seem to be all that under the radar.”

“That would be because I wasn’t the one who did it. Doc has clearly been busy while we’ve been away.”

“Oh great. Which ones did he upgrade this time?”

“Creepers.”

“Creepers?” Joel shot back incredulously, his voice rising in pitch. For good reason too. Making advancements to creepers was near impossible, due to their nasty tendency to explode when in contact with anything other than a monster. Even they had struggled with it, Grian remembered bitterly, though that had been over 2,00 years ago. Clearly, they’ve been able to make progress in all that time.

“How in the world did he manage that?”

“We aren’t sure. What concerns me more is how they were able to get so deep into the city without us noticing.”

“I’ve reviewed every last crossing for the past two weeks but so far nothing. It’s not uncommon for monsters to find their way into the city, but those that have been altered have to be let in. I just can’t figure out from where,” Jimmy added sighing deeply before plooping onto the coach. Grian felt a rise of sympathy for Jimmy. The entire city border was his to account for. Listen for, Grian thought harshly. It was a demanding job, especially at times like these.

“How did it even happen? Everyone knows not to get close to Creepers on account of ya know… they tend to kamikaze,”

“Oh that we can blame the ‘number one hero’ for,” Jimmy mutters practically spitting the name.

“Jimmy,” Grian quickly reprimanded. Jimmy’s dislike of the hero was nothing new, but it was not really due to the hero himself. Usually, at least.

“Well, I’m not wrong!”

“Hot Guy had no way of knowing his arrow would cause it to explode nor that the blast would be that big.”

“But he wasn’t the one that came stumbling home with their back torn to smithereens and barely conscious! No, he jumps into interviews and on camera and doesn’t even mention that it’s his fault in the first place!”

“Jimmy, enough!?

“Grian he has a point though. Yesterday might have been an accident, but Hot Guy was never a part of the plan. If something was to go wrong…”

“Listen, I understand your concerns, but Hot Guy is not the Hero Association. He’s human, and sometimes they make mistakes. I am made of things stronger than humans, and sometimes that means I will take the brunt of the damage. Hot Guy is not going to change the plan,” Grian commanded, holding eye contact with Jimmy as he did so.

The room fell quiet once more as Jimmy and Joel slumped into the couch. Grian reminded himself that deep down neither of them truly held resentment toward Hot Guy. Only what he represented and his options to remain almost entirely ignorant of the truth of the world. Something that while they might hold resentment for, Grian never really could. Though maybe that was because he had met the hero.

“Grian, we’re only saying this because we care about you. I may not have been there when… when everything happened, but there are people here who care deeply about you. We just don’t want to see you get in over your head.” Joel responded and Grian pondered that carefully.

By this point, most of the members from before were long gone. If they had made it past everything all those centuries ago, only Jimmy and Grian remained now. A pang shot through his heart, a waking reminder of those he had lost.

Of those, he had killed.

Grian and Jimmy are merely walking reminders of a time that no longer exists. A time that Grian wasn’t sure if it could ever exist again. While over the centuries more hybrids had joined their cause, none of them were old enough to remember a time before. Some days though, Grian wasn’t sure he could either.

“I appreciate it, Joel. Jimmy, I know that you mean well, and I know lately things have been more tense, but everything is okay. We’re together in this.”

Jimmy remained quiet but nodded his head. Grian almost felt bad for lying to him, but he had long ago created this plan. While the others knew most, they could not know everything.

Not yet.

Silence once again filled the room, and Grian wasn’t sure how to address it. He knew things were still going to be tense, a few words of reassurance wasn’t going to change that. At the very least though, it was a start.

Grain's head shot up towards the door, as the bell went off in the downstairs cafe.

Someone had just entered the building.

Both Jimmy and Joel followed his gaze, tensing up as well. After a moment though, Grian relaxed.

“It’s okay, only Lizzie,”

Immediately, Joel perked up as he shot up off the couch. Grian rolled his eyes as Jimmy laughed at the action. While Joel didn’t need to use a lot of power to conceal his hybrid attributes, so he could keep it up practically indefinitely, Grian could swear he saw Joel’s tail wagging.

A few moments went by as the sounds of footsteps grew closer. Then-

“Why are there so many people in my living room?” Lizzie's voice rang out as the door unlocked and swung open.

“Well if it was for a surprise party, using your instincts before opening the door would have ruined it now wouldn’t it have?” Grian called back as Joel swept his wife up in a hug. You’d have thought she had been gone a month, instead of the few hours Grian knew they had been separated for.

“Oh, like you didn’t know I was there from the moment I unlocked the door downstairs,” Lizzie responded before returning Joel’s hug. Grian did not bother replying, knowing that Lizzie knew she was right.

“Ah, this does remind me though, how's your morning rendezvous going, Grian?” Jimmy asked conversationally, his tone light, but Grian could sense the teasing lying underneath it. Grian immediately tensed and fought the color from rising to his cheeks. Oh, the joys of having a sibling. Why, oh why, did Jimmy have to witness him dropping Scar off that one morning? He’s never let him live it down since.

“A morning rendezvous? Wait, you’ve still been offering rides with that architecture professor?”

“Perhaps,” Grian responded hesitantly, eyes settling on a fascinating vase in the corner of the room. Truly, a marvel.

“A 2,000-year-old god, crushing on a sarcastic geeky professor. I’m almost tempted to write a novel,”

“I am not crushing,” Grian practically spit the last word out. How dare they accuse me of having something as mundane as having a crush. The sheer audacity.

“Grian, I’m married and you’re making me feel as if I’m single,”

“That’s because you’re needy” Jimmy quickly offered up, as all good friends should.

“I am not-”

“Joel. When Lizzie goes to work you literally whine,”

“Well, I-I can’t help that.” Jole, rightly so, whined.

“We know. You’re needy. Now let's get back to pestering Grian about, frankly his embarrassing crush,” Lizzie quickly cut them off before Joel could get Jimmy back.

“You don’t have to” Grian quickly assured over the sounds of Joel sputtering as he looked at his wife in betrayal, however, it landed on deaf ears. Grian has decided that his friends are the worst.

“Or we can talk about the new amazing posters that are now decorating the downtown? Lizzie offered and Joel turned to look at her confused. Nope, now, Grian has decided his friends are the worst. He’s shipping them all back to the other side of the wall, and Mumbo is going to take over everything.

Yep, that’s the only option. Grian was sure that Mumbo would appreciate all of the new responsibilities. Though, Grian did not doubt that if Mumbo was here he’d be leading the charge against his good name. Honestly, Grian should just cut his losses.

“What new posters?” Joel asked and Grians heart sunk into his stomach, knowing what was about to happen. Looks like Grian was going to be spending the rest of the day planning on how he was going to ship them all off. There was no way that he was going to be able to survive the incoming ridicule from his closest friends.

“You haven’t seen?”

“I was… busy” Joel offered looking sideways into the kitchen. Grain weighed the odds of ratting Joel out, but he wasn’t quick enough before Lizzie continued.

“Here, I’ll show you,”

“Actually, no, I don’t think that all that necessary,” Grian hastily said but it was too late. Lizzie had her phone whipped out and the image pulled up. Grian was almost impressed by how quickly she had the image up and ready to go.

The room was deathly silent before–

“Bwhahahaha! Oh Grian, mate, they got your good side and everything!”

“They’re everywhere too. Gave me a heart attack when I left my flat this morning.” Jimmy continued peering over Lizzie's shoulder. Frankly, Grian was amazed the image wasn’t burned into his head like it was in his head. He wasn’t sure if another two millennia was enough time to forget something so traumatic.

“Really, I think we should just be glad they don’t have any audio of his voice. Then we’d never be free,” Joel said rather hauntingly.

“You’re lucky I don’t need Lizzie to run over to the other side for the time being or I swear Joel,” Grian threatened in return. Joel merely smiled, unbothered by the rather weak threat, Grian had to admit. Especially since Grian has made it before. Only now, Grian was seriously considering the logistics of it. Though, it might not be worth Joel baking again.

“Speaking of though, Grian, I’ve got a few more that need a crossing,” Lizzie said, and the room grew more serious. Grian was almost thankful for Lizzie freeing him from the rest of the teasings, but crossings were never easy. Crossings were dangerous, only to be done only under very specific circumstances. A part of the agreement that hybrids had to sign to cross in the first place was that they had to completely cut themselves off from anything that could trace them to the other side. When they get to Upper City, they are to remain there, unless something forces them out of the city. Anything other than that is too dangerous. It wouldn’t be the first time the Watchers had discovered a hybrid within the city.

“How bad?”

“Nothing major. They weren’t compromised, but one of the younger ones has been sick. Her parents are worried she won’t be able to keep up the transformation with her energy level.”

This wasn’t all that uncommon for younger hybrids. While it was rare for hybrids to get sick, when they did it was always when they were young and it always hit hard. There were many crossings due to this. Better to get them out before they could get compromised.

“What are they mixed with?” Grian asked

“Blaze,”

“So we need to get them out, sooner rather than later,”.

There were not many dangerous hybrids that were allowed into the Upper City. The process to get approval to move into Upper City is long, more so for more dangerous hybrids. Not necessarily because they were more dangerous, but because they needed to use more magic than less dangerous or obvious hybrids. Blaze hybrids needed to constantly regulate their above-normal temperatures, all while using only the smallest amounts of magic so as not to be detected.

The fact that a blaze hybrid was ill, and a child was dangerous for their safety as well as the safety of the neighboring citizens. They needed to get them out safely, as quickly as possible.

“Cover story in place?”

“Parents have taken time off, and this is their only child so she’s been out of school since the sickness started. I’ve had them tell friends and neighbors that they are going to be quarantining in their home with a ‘family friend’ dropping food off immediately. I’ve gone ahead and secured the home with remote responses and cameras just in case anyone stops by they won't notice the empty house.” Lizzie responded, already prepared for the situation.

Grian smiled at her preparedness. Since they had started this, Lizzie and Grian worked together to secure the hybrid's safety. It was one of the reasons Lizzie became a paramedic and left working at the cafe every night, much to Joel’s displeasure.

“Am I going to be the ‘family friend’,” Joel asked raising his hand and Lizzie grinned at him.

“Joy,” Jimmy stated flatly, dropping his hand back down.

“Are they going to be staying at the cafe or are they crossing immediately?”

“Probably tonight. They’ve still got family on the other side, so they’re excited to meet up with them as soon as possible,” Lizzie responded, and Grian nodded. Usually, they gave a bit more time between the request and the actual crossing, but if they waited too long the chance of exposure grew far greater.

“Alright, rather than wait for tomorrow night, we’ll go ahead and move them tonight. Lizzie write down the address and sent the notification that I’d be arriving shortly. Jimmy, you’ll be with me for the switch, I want to make sure the other side is clear as well since this is such short notice. Also, I’ll be sending you over for a little bit.”

“What! If this is about before-”

“It’s not. The advancements made have me nervous, and with Doc avoiding our trackers I’m getting worried. I need you to investigate, the hybrids won’t be able to find him if the Watchers are involved,” Grian explained. The plan had always been to send Jimmy over the wall tonight to investigate anyway, now he was just killing two birds with one stone.

Lizzie passed over a small slip of paper, and Grian glanced at it before using the smallest of energies to destroy it.

“Alright, if all goes well I’ll text you when I’m back through,” Grian said turning towards the front door as Jimmy sighed before getting to his feet and walking over.

“Wait, Grian what am I meant to be doing?” Joel asked as Grian opened the door and let Jimmy walk through first. Grians eye twitched as he stared at Joel, a plan forming.

“You, Joel, get the most dangerous job of all” Joel's head tilted, and once more Grian could practically see the hybrid through the thin layer of magic. He was so excited… It almost made Grian feel bad for what he was planning to do.

Almost.

He would not be getting his coffee after, that's for sure.

“You, get to explain to your wife the lovely, new lifeform you created in her absence this afternoon,”

Joel's eyes widened comically large as his gaze turned from Grian to Lizzie in horror. Lizzie froze turning to stare at her husband. Her gaze stayed trained on him, but they all knew she was now aware of the presence in the kitchen.

“...Joel”

“Now, Lizzie, I..”

“Joel. Please tell me in the seven hours I was gone you did not desecrate my kitchen,” Grian grinned widely before shutting the door and began humming to himself as he descended the stairs back into the cafe. All in an honest day's work.

“I would never-”

“Joel. There is a moving sludge bag on my kitchen table.”

“Uhhh, that’s a … happy accident?”

“You know he’s going to kill himself trying to get you back for that,” Jimmy grinned once Grian had joined him on the cafe floor.

“It would not be the first time. None of Joel's pranks ever work out well for him,” Jimmy gave a sharp laugh in response, though Grian was not sure if he had much room to be laughing. It seemed the two of them would be cursed through whatever life they lived.

“You ready to meet the family?”

“Yeah. We should probably make sure that the coast is clear first through. Plus you’ll be staying for a few days on the other side to look into the new mobs. Hopefully, we’ll find Doc this time.”

“... and if we can’t? Grian, we’ve been looking for him for over a hundred years. Doc has clearly made his choice. What are you going to do once we do find him?” Grian's heart stuttered at the thought.

“It might not be as simple as that Jimmy. Right now, we just need to focus on finding him. I’ll ask Mumbo to check with Grumbot for any signs of him, but for now, we’re just going to play this by ear.”

Jimmy sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Grian, I understand that you have these memories of them- but you aren’t there. You’re here and these versions are willing to kill you if need be. You’re doing the same thing with Sc-”

“Jimmy. Don’t.”

The room fell silent as the air tensed. Jimmy did not often bring up Grians other memories- it wasn’t a particularly enjoyable thing to remember that he even had, but it had been increasing ever since Grian met Scar. Really, it was not fare to be upset with Jimmy. He didn’t remember them.

Didn’t see the flashes of a better life.

Where deaths were infinite.

And… where they weren’t.

“Let’s just get this over with,”

“Whatever you say,”

Grabbing onto Jimmy, Grain remembered the address before using some energy to warp them there. Warping was usually an unpleasant feeling, but the more he was taking with him, the worse it felt. At least they had a different method to get across the wall.

After an intense stretching and sinking sensation, Grian opened his eyes to see a modestly decorated living room. Releasing Jimmy, who looked mildly sick to his stomach, Grian stepped forward and expanded his energy to check the home before announcing himself. Most humans did not take kindly to someone teleporting into their living room. While it had been centuries since Grian messed up something as simple as a warp, he knew he could never be too careful.

Only noticing three individuals, all hybrids, Grian determined it was safe to start.

“Excuse me? My name is Grian, Lizzie mentioned you needed a crossing?”

Immediately, the hybrids lurched to their feet in surprise before heading into the living room. Grian vaguely remembered seeing their faces a few years prior on a processing paper, so it was nice to know they had been doing well all of these years.

“We weren’t sure when to expect you, so we were waiting by the door.” the Father said first holding his hand out in greeting. Immediately, red flags went off for both Grian and Jimmy

“My name is-”

“We were told we were escorting a blaze out beyond the barrier, so who are you?” Jimmy asked coldly, glaring at the unknown hybrid. The man was relatively short, his hair gave a greenish tint, almost missable if you weren’t looking for it. He certainly was not a Blaze hybrid though. Though his kind was rare, Grian recognized it.

“No, no, that’s just my daughter and my wife. I’m a Glare hybrid,” The man quickly explained as a woman walked into the room very clearly a Blaze hybrid. Swaddled in her arms was a small child wrapped in a blanket.

“My name is Bdubs,”

After another tense moment, Grian stepped in.

“Apologies, we weren’t informed that not everyone was a blaze hybrid,” Grian explained. There weren’t many hybrids that held relationships with other hybrids. Especially not those with hostile blood. Glares weren’t aggressive, although they could get moody in the dark. Suppose that was a benefit of marrying a Blaze hybrid though.

“Yeah, we didn’t get a chance to explain to the woman who came by earlier,”

“No, if it wasn’t such an emergency we would’ve had the time to go over your guy's file before processing the crossing. How is she holding up?” Grian asked moving closer, hoping they would not see him as a threat. Especially, after only just calming the situation.

“The fever has yet to break, and she keeps changing how much heat she’s letting out. There's been a few close calls this past hour with her summoning fire, but I’ve been able to put them out before they caused issues,” Bdubs wife explained titling the bundle down to reveal more of the small girl's flushed face.

“May I?”

“Please,”

Given permission, Grian held his hand out and placed the back of it on the girl's forehead. Letting his power flow a bit more, he checked the girl's condition before removing his hand.

“The good news is, her condition isn’t anything to worry about. She probably needs a few days to get her more dangerous abilities back under control. Maybe a week or so to be well enough for us to see if you guys can cross back over,”

“Thank you!”

“Now, we’ll be heading off. Jimmy here will be going with you for the crossing, and in a week he’ll meet back up with you to check in on her okay? We’ll know more by then on when we can plan the crossing,”

“Now, is there anything else you may need to bring before I make the Portal ?”

"Oh um, we have a family heirloom that I wanted to return to the other side of the wall, " Bdubs started, "It doesn't feel like it belongs on this side.”

Grian knew all too well what Bbuds felt. He too felt it almost every waking moment.

Sometimes even more than that.

Even after all these years, that feeling of looking in, of never belonging never really went away.

“Can I ask for your help with it?” Bdubs asked gesturing to the doorway, “It’s just through there, plus I have a question about this that I don’t want my daughter to worry about,” Bdubs whispered that last part eyes lingering on his daughter before turning back to Grian. Jimmy raised his eyebrow at this, throwing a look at Grian. Grian ignored the questioning look and nodded moving to follow Bdubs into the next room.

Bdubs turned and walked out of the room, and Grian began to trail after. Jimmy grabbed his arm, panic evident on his face. Something was wrong with Jimmy- he’d been acting more and more strange the past few days but today more than ever. Once he got back from this mission Grian knew he was going to have to have a bit of a serious talk with him.

Something to look forward to he supposed.

“Jimmy you’ll be able to hear everything. Nothing is going to happen,” Grian assured moving his hand off of his arm. Besides, Glare hybrids, while rare, were not known to be violent. If Grian was ended by one he’d be alright with never having to face the endless ridicule of his friends.

“Okay,” Jimmy relaxed if only slightly and turned his attention to talk to Bdubs wife, Grian presumed about the process they were about to go through. Turning back to the doorway, Grian left the living room and entered the hallway.

“Up here!” Bdubs called from the top of the stairwell, and Grian hung a left to go up and meet him at the landing. Girna turned to face Bduds waiting for him to show where the heirloom was, only Bdubs didn’t move. Staring down at the ground, he shifted from side to side rubbing his arms. Not a great sign, if Grian was being honest.

“What is it?” Grian questioned, knowing the excuse of retrieving the heirloom was only that- an excuse. Grian wished he could say he was surprised, but there had not been much about people's behavior, specifically betrayal that could shock him anymore.

“I don’t mean to question you or make you uncomfortable or anything but I wanted to know… you’re Cute Guy… aren’t you?” Grian froze and stared at him without responding and Bdubs rushed to explain, “I’m several centuries old by now. I still remember the stories we passed around the village and…”

“Don’t”

Bdubs head shot up to finally meet Grians eyes.

“We’re here to get you and your family out. For you, your wife, and your daughter's safety I’d be more careful with whom you ask those questions,” Grian finished coldly before turning to descend the stairs. A part of Grian regretted being so harsh. It wasn’t Bdubs’s fault Grian knew what they were capable of. If they thought Bdubs had any information, they would have no problem torturing it out of him. Bdubs had a life. A family. He was best left out of the matter entirely.

Grian was beginning to wonder if everyone was doomed to be involved. If it was the curse of being kind to him in other lives.

Dragged into a fight that was Grians fault- with no chance of surviving it.

Maybe that was why Grian was so determined to keep Scar as he was.

A Dreamer and Human.

“Well, if you do know anything about Cute Guy,” Bdubs called down quietly knowing Grian could still hear him,” Let her know that the hybrids are thankful for what they’re doing. People’s minds are hard to change, here, but it is progress!”

Grian froze on the stairs for a moment, remembering.

“Everyone thinks their progress is for the greater good. I have found that to rarely be true.” Grian left it at that and descended the stairs stopping outside the living room door to collect himself before entering.

“Ready?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

UPDATES

Hello, one and all!

Yes, I know it has been a lot longer than originally promised. I had originally planned to leave this chapter alone at a certain point, but due to how I’ve planned the chapters to go I decided not to. I did end up changing the original ending for this chapter, and I think this ending fits better ultimately.

Also, Jimmy and Bdubs are OC in this, apologies for that. There is a reason, but all shall be revealed later. Also, Joel was already planned for this chapter back in like November and I laughed so hard when he was announced to be joining Hermicraft.

In other news, the other reason this chapter was pushed back as far as it was is due to some news I received a day or so after posting the preview. One of the girls I met while hospitalized passed away in March.

She had sarcoma.

Her mother called to tell me the news, and due to the distance, I was unable to attend her funeral in person.

She was not even 20 years old.

It really solidified that when I go, my mom is going to have that same job.

I do not want to come on here and post depressing things all of the time, but I did want to ask that if you are in any financial position please donate to the Sarcoma Foundation in her memory.

In less sad news, the other chapters have been coming along, and I’m extremely excited for the rest of the story!

Stay safe, and hopefully, you’ll hear from me before August!

#hermitblr #hermitcraft #desert duo #desert duo vigilante au #grian #superhero au #ao3 fanfic #cute guy grian #ao3 writer #archive of our own #goodtimeswithscar #hot guy scar #hc9 #hermitcraft season 9 #gtws hermitcraft #hc s10 #3rd life #ddvau

11 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 10 months ago

Text

Desert Duo Chapter 4 Sneak Peak

“A morning rendezvous? Wait, you’ve still been offering rides with that architecture professor?”

“Perhaps,” Grian responded hesitantly, eyes settling on a fascinating vase in the corner of the room. Truly, a marvel.

“A 2,000-year-old god, crushing on a sarcastic geeky professor. I’m almost tempted to write a novel,”

“I am not crushing,” Grian practically spit the last word out. How dare they accuse me of having something as mundane as having a crush. The sheer audacity.

“Grian, I’m married and you’re making me feel as if I’m single,”

“That’s because you’re needy” Jimmy quickly offered up, as all good friends should.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello, one and all! I just wanted to give a quick update as well. I'm going to stop saying when I'll update because I swear my Doctors are watching my Tumblr to make sure that's when they schedule me. This chapter is the longest one I have written so far, and that's after I decided to split it into two... which means the official chapter count will be around 11 now.

I'm still doing great, and have planned this chapter to go up tomorrow!

Until then!

#hermitblr #hermitcraft #desert duo #desert duo vigilante au #grian #superhero au #ao3 fanfic #cute guy grian #ao3 writer #archive of our own #ddvau #ddvau grian #hot guy scar #jimmy solidarity #last life

19 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 10 months ago

Text

There are no words, nothing I could write that hasn't been said to properly convey how emotions and response that I had to the news about what Shubble had to go through.

As someone not on Twitter, and not an avid watcher of Shelby, I didn't hear about her video until several days after it was posted by a friend of mine, who told me that people suspected Wilbur.

And at that time, I did not want to believe it.

My immediate reaction was disbelief, and then I thought people on Twitter were saying things just to say things. I knew Shelby had not named her abuser, because she was not in a position where she could. The internet is rarely benevolent when victims come forward.

But this was someone I had watched during my cancer treatments. This was someone whose music I listened to, to drown out the sounds of my illness. This is someone I cried with and for after the loss of Technoblade. Now, after his passing, I had stopped watching that entire side of mcyt. I moved on to Hermitcraft, Empires, and the Life series, I stopped using Twitter because it's Twitter, and when the various members of the DSMP were caught doing something, It just further solidified my decision.

But this was someone I had supported. The idea that I had allowed myself to be manipulated into that situation was almost unbearable.

But the more I thought about it, the more I remembered things from back during the DSMP ear, the more uncomfortable I got. The more I remembered people he was "close" with describing him as manipulative, the amount of younger people he constantly interacted with, and the dynamics he created around them.

Even without his "apology" I realized that, yes, he was manipulative. And the horrible thing about it is that you never really notice when that manipulation occurs. It's why at least at first, I gave the benefit of the doubt.

Because "surely not".

But this is not about those things. It's not about how I feel in regard to the news, nor is it about how his old friend will respond. It's about the abuse that he did and the power kick he got from keeping his victims silent.

Wilbur Soot is an abuser.

Shelby, and lord knows who else are his victims. The horrible realization that while I was supporting someone they were intentionally hurting people weaker than them like Techno and Shelby feels like a sucker punch.

And the worst part is that, at the end of the day I cannot even say that he is sorry, because he is not. he does not take accountability. He does not apologize. He states that "he changed", which is easy to say without having to prove. Especially, when you cannot even apologize.

Wilbur is not "canceled". He's an abuser.

Shelby is incredibly strong for coming forward, and I hope that she can heal with the support and love that she deserves.

I'm also sorry, Shelby. I waited in the hope of "surely not", and that's not fair or right to Shelby or any victim of abuse. I've seen some posts about how those who supported him had no way of knowing, but this can be ... hard to accept personally. I don't mean to say it's the communities fault, because we really did not have a way to know.

It's important to know, that no matter how well you think you "know" a creator- you don't.

I don't want anyone to come away from this and think that I am in any way still in support of anything that man has created or done over the years. This includes channels, collabs, music, and certain bands with connections to him.

This is firmly a Shelby support account.

For those who still side with him; I am truly sorry that you are unable to see through his manipulation, but I hope that one day you will. I hope that you can gain the ability to see through these horrible actions of cruelty before you find yourself in a situation where you are the victim.

I'm so sorry Shelby.

#shelby #shubble #shit ass apology #support shubble #shubblesupportsquad #tw abuse #wilbur soot

47 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 11 months ago

Note

You ok? Everthing doing alright? You haven't been active in the last 3 weeks... I'm getting a little bit worried here oblique...

Hello! Im sorry for the later response but everything’s okay! No news is always good news, right now. I’ve been fairly busy and trying out a new treatment which has me pretty tired most of the time but so far so good. It shouldn’t be but another couple days before I have the next chapter semi ready and can post the preview-potentially sooner.

Thank you for your concern 💕💕

6 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 1 year ago

Text

DDVAU- Chapter 3: All for a Parking Pass

Scar’s POV

From the moment Scar opened his eyes, he knew it would not be a good day. The phantom pain in his legs was ranked up to eleven, and Scar didn’t even need to move his bedsheets to know the bruises from his fake legs were worse than usual. Scar could feel his lungs struggle, like the smoke from yesterday was still there, despite Cub ensuring he was okay. They had adjusted his oxygen intake regardless anyway just in case.

After Cute Guy had left him on the roof the day before, Hot Guy tasked himself with shuffling through the rubble due to his… distraction.

Sighing, Scar sat up and rubbed a hand over his face.

As much as Cute Guy insisted, Scar wasn’t usually one to get distracted. He wasn’t ranked number one because he caused the most property damage after all. This was a more recent development. One that Scar wished he could ignore, as it would make his life so much easier. At least the distraction hadn’t caused anyone to get hurt. Scar would not have been able to forgive itself if it had. That had to be one of the worst things about his job- the people he hadn’t been able to save.

Still, though, Scar had felt obligated to stay later and help the residents in the area find someplace safe to stay, and then meet with Scott for a press release to let people know the new dangers The Creepers had gained.

“ …there have always been new features added to the mobs on the other side of the wall…”

Scar had often wondered what the other side of the wall offered, and how people could live there. When he was in school, his teachers had nailed the point home that “people” didn’t live on the other side of the wall. They hadn’t much liked it when Scar had insisted that they were people. How could they judge Hybrids, when no one Scar had ever met had even SEEN a Hybrid? The only information that people had was from the Hero Association and their history books. Both of them agreed that Hybrids had angered the Old Gods, and as punishment, they were cast out.

Scar had never been much for that theory though.

With another sigh, Scar peeled back the sheets and shuffled over to his wheelchair. In his movement though, Scar nudged Jellie, who lazily lifted her head and fixed him with an unimpressed stare. Scar blinked a moment before laughter bubbled within him. So that’s what Cute Guy's stare yesterday had reminded him of. The irony of the avian hybrid pulling the exact facial expression of a cat did not escape him.

“Evil my foot,” Scar mumbled reaching to pet and attempting to soothe Her Majesty back to sleep. A part of him was almost jealous of her immediate ability to fall back to sleep, but Scar had chosen to continue to teach. While he enjoyed helping people, he loved interacting with his students every day. This did mean though, that he could not spend the remainder of the day embraced in his sheets.

Scar retracted his hand and pushed himself up and over into his chair. Yep, still loved it, even when massively sleep-deprived and sore. The Hero Association had pressured him back when he was completing his Doctorate program to become a hero full-time. An offer Scar had wholeheartedly shut down, making clear that if anything the hero work would be the first to go. They hadn’t liked that response all that much, and Scar had been punished for it. Scar felt it was still worth it though- they never did bring up him quitting again.

Rolling away from his bed, Scar began to prepare for no doubt a long day that was awaiting him. He was meant to go back out for patrol tonight once he had finished teaching for the day. At least he loved the life he had lived thus far, tough as it may be at times. Cub wasn’t pleased about his schedule, but the Hero Association would not allow Scar a break and Scar was to stubborn to stop teaching. Cub eventually stopped protesting the schedule, but he made sure to put his foot down against some of the Hero Associations more assinin ideas. Ideas, he wouldn’t have told Scar had he not overheard the one afternoon he had arrived early to suit up.

Scar wheeled himself into his kitchen and prepared his breakfast and the various medications he needed to take before he would need to leave. Thankfully, he had the foresight last night to prepare his medical backpack, so at least that wasn’t on his agenda this morning. When he had first started on all of them, the process had been difficult to remember, but after all this time Scar was pretty sure he could do it with his eyes closed. Oh, the joys of a lifelong illness.

Grabbing the remote, Scar turned his attention to the TV in the living room, which he could listen to and m mostly see in his open kitchen and living room, as he finished prepping his bagel.

“... what do you think of the most recent involvement of a hybrid working with a Hero?”. Scar rolled his eyes, not turning around as he spread cream cheese on the bagel. He didn’t need to look to know that this was just an attempt from the Hero Association to regain control of the public opinion. Most citizens were not aware of the involvement the association had with just about everything, but Scar had seen more than most. More than he probably should have seen, and he wasn’t sure if the association even knew how much. Even now in a supposed interview of a “random” citizen, Scar knew they were just a hired actor meant to recite lines and create a new narrative.

There were very few news outlets in the Upper City that the Hero Association didn’t control, and while Scar tried to appear on those outlets more, there was no avoiding their influence.

“Well, hybrids are dangerous, so there is no way they would let an actual hybrid in Upper City, let alone what some of those conspiracy theorists were suggesting.

“And what have they been suggesting?

“That a hybrid is sentient or smart enough to help the Heroes out!”

Scar couldn’t hear the reporters response immediantly as he let the knife clatter to the counter as he whipped his head around to stare at the TV in horror. That cannot be the narrative they are trying to spin right now.

“... so you’re saying that the Hero Association has advanced enough to makeshift hybrids to save citizens' lives?”

Scar’s vision nearly whited out with blind rage. Of course, they would not come out and say they had advanced technology enough to compare to the Old Gods, but they would imply it. The vast majority of people within Upper City believed in the Old Gods, and everyone accepted their existence, even if they didn’t follow the religious aspects. Some things though, were just a fact that happened to tie to religion, thus involving everyone, so no one had a choice on their actual beliefs. People would continue to see hybrids as mindless beasts, and the Hero Association as their sole protectors and providers, a position the Old Gods had ensured their longevity to keep the people, safe. It gave them power without them having to state or exude that power at all, or at least not to the public's eyes. While some people questioned the Hero Association's treatment of Hybrids, no one could challenge the influence of the Old Gods.

Suddenly, Cute Guy’s words from the day before rang in his ears.

“It’s a mutual thing”

The Hero Association had managed to come up with a way to imply that Cute Guy was nothing more than a pawn in their plan. That all she had done for people was just the Hero Association.

Completely invalidating her.

All her success in changing how people perceived hybrids, is now rendered moot.

Maybe it was her words or the sad look in her eyes when he had explained why he would not let Scar take them to a hospital. All they’ve had to go through, just to be batted away as a pawn. While Scar had made that choice, he had a feeling the same could not be said for Cute Guy.

Scar’s hand twitched for his phone, but he resisted. As much as he wanted to call Cub and go over everything, there was no way of knowing which parts the Hero Association would listen in on. Though, he could be sure they would be listening. No way they’d let the number one hero have space to betray them. If Cute Guy was a pawn, Scar felt most days he was nothing more than a puppet, waiting for the higher-ups to yank him into moving. While he could get away with a lot, outright disloyalty to the association was not one of them.

Clutching his jaw tightly, Scar took in a few deep breaths, calming himself and his mind. There was no point getting angry over it, unfortunately, that wouldn’t solve anything. As if on cue, Jellie ran into the room and jumped onto his lap, purring loudly once she had landed.

“Thank you, Good Jellie, I don’t know where I’d be without you,” Scar murmured, petting Jellie softly allowing himself to breathe a moment. Scar stared into her eyes and could have sworn she was communicating with him.

‘We will get through this’.

Throughout the time they have spent together, Scar could have sworn that Jellie knew more than an ordinary cat did. Then she’d meow at her reflection for twenty minutes, and Scar would dispel those thoughts until the next time she did something strange. Scar’s alarm went off, indicating that he needed to be leaving now, and Scar sighed.

I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job.

“I suppose that means that I should leave now, right?” Scar rhetorically asked, and Jellie lifted her front paw and licked it in response. Answer enough.

“Right then, suppose that answers it then,”

Placing his hands underneath Jellie, she quickly scampered off and into the living room where she’d no doubt spend the rest of the day napping in the sun until he came home. Resolving himself to his fate, Scar made sure to grab his briefcase with papers he couldn’t be sure if he had graded, as well as his personal laptop. Wheeling to the door, Scar picked up his medical backpack, making sure that it was still appropriately packed with the medications he’d have to take throughout the day, as well as backups of nasal cannulas and the disinfectant for them just in case. While yes, he had packed it the night before, he’d made the mistake of not checking before and found the bag filled with clothes. Where had he pecked his meds you may wonder? A suitcase.

Scar didn’t own a suitcase.

As he was slinging that over the handlebars, a car horn went off in front, and Scar wanted to roll his eyes at their impatience. Despite this retinue on par with how long it usually took him, his ride always managed to honk the horn as Scar began to step out.

If he didn’t know better he’d swear they were doing it on purpose, but how would they even be able to do that? Meischif just came naturally to them.

“Bye Jellie!” Scar called back into the apartment and wheeled out the door. Not expecting a response, Scar turned and shut the door behind him, turning his body to lock the door with his keys, as he heard a car door open.

“I was coming you know,” Scar called teasingly, not bothering to turn and look at his friend as he kept his focus on locking his front door. While you would have to be crazy to attempt to rob the Number 1 Hero, that does not apply when the Number 1 Hero looks like an easy target. The most dangerous thing in Scar’s actual home was probably Jellie, though she had earned that title rightly so.

“Perhaps I’d like to make it to campus before nightfall is all,” the voice calls back just as teasingly, before a hand gently takes the keys from him, and swiftly locks the door.

“I was getting that you know,” Scar huffs annoyed, finally turning to face the all too cheery man who had designated himself his ride to campus every day. To no ones surprise, his driver had on another amazingly soft red sweatshirt, and if Scars' vision weren’t as good as it was he’d have missed the microscopic differences in all the sweaters he had.

“You looked like your head was about to snap off, Scar, we really need to find a better way for you to lock your doors,” Grian responded, moving behind his chair and wheeling him across the walkway, and to where his car was still running, the driver's door still open in Scar,s driveway.

“You know leaving your door open like that, you’re bound to get into trouble,” Scar offered turning his head up to stare up at the man.

“Oh please, Scar, I’m stronger than I look. Besides if anyone ever did mess with me, I’d probably annoy them enough where they’d just let me go anyways,” Grian teased as Scar opened up the passenger side door, preparing to lift himself out of the chair and into the seat. At least Grian owned a car and not some supersized, super “manly” truck that Scar was sure he’d need a team to get in and out of. Though it would be incredibly funny to laugh as they attempted to lug him in and out, Scar would be worried they’d more likely drop him on his butt for laughing at them.

“That’s true,” Scar settled on, after successfully settling himself into the seat. The bruises on his legs and torso practically scream at the movement, but Scar was all too familiar with hiding that pain.

“Scar!” Grian exclaimed swatting his shoulder as Scar broke down laughing.

“Well now look who's taking his sweet time, we’re going to be late you know,” Scar teased back gesturing to the clock display, watching as Grian's eyes widened in shock, before returning to glare at him.

“You’re lucky I don’t throw you out right now and make you wheel your way there,” Grian stated before shutting the door, cutting off Scar’s response. Moments later the back door opened and in slid his backpack, and then his wheelchair before the door was once more shut.

Scar eyed the horn, tempted, but after the last time he did that, Grian looked like he had a heart attack from the shock, so Scar decided to shelve that particular strategy for the time being. Besides, he wasn’t entirely sure if Grian would kill him or not. That would be a bit embarrassing if he was taken out by someone so small.

Cute Guy would never let him live it down, and that was something that could not be allowed under any circumstance. So, Scar would have to behave, however, no one ever said he could not toe the line.

As soon as Grian made it back to his seat, Scar turned, eyes pleading with him.

“No Scar,” Grian stated not even looking at him as he shut his door and put his seatbelt on. Scar's mouth dropped in response.

“What! But you don’t even know what I was going to ask!”

Grian fixed him with an unimpressed stare, before turning his head and beginning to back out of the driveway.

“... it would help us make it on time,” Scar offered quietly, and Grian sighed.

“No Scar, it will give me another traffic violation,”

“That was one time!”

“And there shall be no repeats!”

Grian backed out of the driveway and began driving as Scar still sat, pleading with his eyes. Jellie had gotten it honest after all.

“Come on, Grandma, we might be able to go over 30 without the world collapsing around us,” Scar rebutted. Once more only received an unimpressed stare,

“Fine, fine, but I’m telling all of your students you drive like a grandmother,” Scar said throwing his hands up in surrounder. Giran huffed in response but still didn’t increase the speedometer.

The drive continued in comfortable silence as they approached the more crowded inner city. Most people weren’t as lucky as he was to be able to afford to live in a quieter area, away from the overcrowded city. Most of his colleagues still lived there, however, Grian was another one of the few who lived with actual legroom.

As they grew closer, the overbearing reach of the Hero’s Association could be seen. Advertisements, billboards, propaganda, the whole lot of it. Almost a hundred screens displayed whatever the Hero Association wanted at any given time, and that was only on this street. Scar was almost terrified of what the entirety of Upper City looked like from above. Maybe that was something he could ask Cute Guy about. The re-emergence of the display screens reinforced Scar’s decision to live further away, at least then he wouldn’t have to see it all the time.

While most of the signs were portraying Heros, mostly Hot Guy, Scar realized, the same billboard always managed to catch his attention the most. Despite seeing it every morning driving in, Scar's eyes were always drawn to it, like it had somehow changed overnight. However, it had been years since that had happened.

The most wanted list.

There were several scrolling warnings, announcing criminals the Hero’s Association had deemed to be extremely dangerous individuals, and if anyone had information they could receive a massive reward. As long as Scar had lived, there had never been such information, no massive reward, and no one was taken off the board. Scar almost questioned if the people on them even existed, but what would the Hero Association gain by admitting there were people they couldn’t catch?

The first was a blonde man with a bandana wearing a strikingly green outfit, the next was a man with dark brown hair wearing plaid and overalls, the next was another man with blonde hair but with piercing Crimson eyes, and the only woman on the board had a blue hood covering most of her brown hair with blue eyes, and finally, the reason Scar had even started paying attention to this sign was a man with stark white hair, one red eye and a mask covering the majority of their face. The displays never gave a name, just displaying that they were wanted, the price for relevant information, and the image. The rotation increased the price dramatically for each individual, the final amount being a number that even now Scar wasn’t sure he had seen in his entire life. They always stayed on one particular person for 30 seconds, before rolling to show the next.

Most of the individuals had been on the wanted board for about as long as Scar could remember, and even after joining the Heros Association, he still had no idea who any of them were. The only thing that had ever changed was the addition of the female, several years ago. It had been the only change in 20 years, as far as Scar could remember tracking it. Scar had tried to ask about it at work, trying to prove that he could help as the Number One Hero, but no dice. The higher-ups told him they had their team on these individuals, and to mind the care of the citizens. He had begged to differ since the names seemed to grow, rather than diminish, but Scar knew he had to pick his battles. As Scar was studying the changing display, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh no,” Scar stared at the new display.

“What?” Grian asked glancing over before looking back trying to figure out what had caught his attention.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Grian said, his hands tightening up on the steering wheel as his eyes landed on the new display. Now as Scar looked around, there were several displays along the busy street, they really should have noticed it sooner.

Standing back to back, was Hot Guy and Cute Guy. Hot Guy had his bow held out, pointed down with what was known as his “Hero Smirk” on his face. Cute Guy had her arms up, guns outstretched pointing to something out of the display, as her wings kept her off the ground. Underneath in big bold text was,

Newest Hero Association Experiment a Success!

Hot Guy Tames a Beast!

For the second time that morning, rage-filled Scar. ‘Tamed’? Tamed.

Like Cute Guy was some animal, Hot Guy had lured into becoming docile. Scar should have known the Hero Association wasn’t going to take kindly after the collapsed building, but they had to know they were begging Cute Guy to retaliate.

Though, they probably were. Merely waiting for her to do anything that they could deem ‘villainous’ and order that they be wiped out. Scar should have known better. This wasn’t a punishment just for Cute Guy, this was also to ensure that if anything ever did happen and Cute Guy hurt someone, Hot Guy would also be blamed. It was a reminder of what they had over him, the puppet strings tightening around his wrists and throat, ever pressing, and the area around his thighs seemed to throb, feeling the puppet strings tighten.

He could only imagine how Cute Guy was going to react to the new images.

“So this is how they’re deciding to handle that hybrid then,” Grian muttered eyes glancing from the road every few seconds to glare at the display before looking back at the road.

“I take it you’re not a fan then?” Scar asked, attempting to keep the trepidation out of his voice. In the past few years that he had known Grian, he hadn’t taken him as one to hate hybrids. Most of his colleagues were still nervous about them, but as far as Scar knew, none had ever expressed hating hybrids. While they had only recently started to get close, Grian didn’t strike him as someone to hate Hybrids.

“Not a fan of what?” Grian asked in lieu of responding. After knowing him for so long, Scar had gotten better at recognizing all his mannerisms, and he knew Grian had understood him the first time.

“Hybrids,”

Grain's eyes flicked back over to him quickly, before-

“I’ve got no problem with Hybrids, but that one is … different.”

“Can I ask why?” Scar felt it was fair to ask. Over the past few months, Grian had been self-appointed as his “work best friend”, but realistically Scar realized he didn’t know much about him. Besides some of the obvious like his age, job, general idea of where he lived, and his two cats, Scar didn’t know much about what Grian did before he began to teach at the university a few years after Scar had.

“I don’t like things that are going to threaten the safety of the people that I care about is all,” Grian says attention still taken with the road, only now Scar could tell it was to avoid having to look at him while answering.

“And Cute Guy is a danger. One that could get a lot of people hurt, even killed, and I don’t think they’re properly considering that,”

Scar remained silent for a moment, and a pang of realization hit him. One of the first times he had recognized Grian after he started teaching at one of the only universities in Upper City was from a few years prior on one of the worst monster attacks Scar had seen so early in his career. A massive part of Upper City had been destroyed, hundreds of lives lost, but Scar can still remember Grian's face as he screamed for his sister in the arms of one of his colleagues.

Out of everyone, Grian had a reason to be worried about the dangers a Hybrid would undoubtedly bring. Even without meaning to, Cute Guy could inspire Hybrids to do the same and get themselves or others hurt, and while Scar or rather Hot Guy knew, they would never mean to, the Hero Association would make sure to blame her. Or people would try and hurt the Hybrids, and without them able to get help from anyone in Upper City, and no way back to the Lower City, the amount of Hybrids that would be killed was something Scar did not want to risk. In the end, causing the cycle of fear and hate to continue- no end in sight. Even Scar had to admit that a building coming down in an area she had been spotted in wasn’t a good look, even if it had been his fault. That reminded him though.

“Then how do you feel about Hot Guy?” Scar asked as normally as he possibly could. While Grian was not the first one he had asked this question to in his years as a hero, it never got easier to seem as nonchalant as possible. Grian sat there a moment, Scar hoped thinking positively.

“I think he does an amazing job as a hero. One of the only ones I would give that credit to. I’m sure the gossip hit you by now, but when I lost my sister in that massive monster attack several years ago, he went back into the carnage and tried to find her. He almost killed himself trying to, and when they forced him to safety he apologized for failing. To this day though, he’s made sure that there have been no attacks like that since. I’ve respected himself ever sense,” Grian finished simplistically, and Scar’s breath caught. He had remembered returning to the wreckage to find whatever survivors he could, but he hadn’t expected Grian to remember it. Mainly because he had collapsed right after that and the paramedics had given him an evil eye before darting the man into a temporary med tent, Scar had assumed to wait for more ambulances.

“I am sorry about your sister, Grian. I had heard about it, but there never seemed a good time to mention it,” Scar almost apologized. While the rest of the staff had mentioned something, Scar didn’t feel he had a right to offer his condolences. After all, if he had been better at his job, Grian wouldn’t have to suffer through not having a sibling in the first place.

Grian only shook his head,” Don’t worry about it, I understand. It was a topic I needed to bring up in my own time. I appreciate it though,” Grian smiled as the car came to a stop. Startled, Scar looked up and realized they had arrived at the campus and Grian had parked in one of the closest handicapped spaces next to the Architecture building, even though the Sciences was further into campus.

“If I may though, about Cute Guy, I worry that they aren’t being safe, for sure, but hurting people? She would never.”

Grian slowly unbuckled and sent him a small smile, “Well, I’m glad she can have people here that have faith in her,”.

With that, Grian opened his door and got out, quickly moving to the other side of the car and wrestling to get the wheelchair from the backseat. Once that battle had been won, he grabbed the medical backpack, as well as his backpack, before shutting the door.

Scar opened his door, and with Grian's help to hold the beast steady managed to transport himself, and his briefcase, into the chair. Once more his body ached and protested at the movement, but Scar ignored it. Grian wrapped the straps over the back of the chair and nodded in satisfaction.

“Well, I believe you’re all set Dr. Scar, now on your way!” Grian cheered, locking his car before turning on his heel and beginning the march to the science building.

“Goodbye my one Good Deed,” Grian called sing songingly, flipping his hand in the air without turning around.

“Hey! I knew you were just using me for my parking pass!”

“Guilty!”

notes

Hello everyone, I know it’s been a while, and I’m going to keep this relatively short. I’ll link my Tumblr post where I discussed a bit about the health setback I had, as well as info about this fic if you’re interested. Also, I’m sure most of us have heard about Jellie by now, and as someone who has a pet going through medical emergencies I cannot begin to imagine how affected Scar is right now, so if you have a moment, leave a kind message to him on his post about Jellie if you have not already. I’m hoping to have another chapter before the end of January, but we’ll see how that goes. Also, can you spot the Technoblade reference?

As always, leave a comment down below your thoughts, favorite parts, or how you spent this past holiday season.

Stay safe everybody, and I’ll see everyone again shortly!

19 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 1 year ago

Text

Goodbye, Queen Jellie.

You will be dearly missed.

Unfortunately, I have a really sad announcement to make. I think many of you have already seen it, based on my notes and inbox, but Scar posted earlier to his YouTube and his Instagram that Jellie passed away earlier today.

Here's the message he posted:

We said goodbye to Jellie today. She was the best cat anyone could ask for. She was my best friend and loyal companion for 17 1/2 years. She got me through so many dark times. She would wait for me to get home from the hospital and slept next to me until I recovered. I can’t express how much I loved her and the hole in my heart now.

Thank you for welcoming her into all of your hearts and she loved being part of the videos and streams with you. I showed her all the artwork you’ve made over the years. She will live on in our hearts and in our Minecraft adventures together.

Jellie 2006 - 2024

#cat: jellie #hermitcraft #goodtimeswithscar

3K notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 1 year ago

Text

Desert Duo Chapter 3 Sneak peak (+ general update)

--Sneak Peak--

There were very few news outlets in the Upper City that the Hero Association didn’t control, and while Scar tried to appear on those outlets more, there was no avoiding their influence.

“Well, hybrids are dangerous, so there is no way they would let an actual hybrid in Upper City, let alone what some of those conspiracy theorists were suggesting. That a hybrid is sentient or smart enough to help the Heroes out!”

Scar let the knife clatter to the counter as he whipped his head around to stare at the TV in horror. That cannot be the narrative they are trying to spin right now.

“So you’re saying that the Hero Association has advanced enough to makeshift hybrids to save citizens lives”

Scar’s vision nearly whited out with blind rage. Of course, they would not come out and say they had advanced technology enough to compare to the Old Gods, but they would imply it. People would continue to see hybrids as mindless beasts, and the Hero Association as their sole protectors and providers. That they had the power without coming off as threatening to the public.

Suddenly, Cute Guy’s words from the day before rang in his ears.

“It’s a mutual thing”

The Hero Association had managed to come up with a way to imply that Cute Guy was nothing more than a pawn in their plan. That all she had done for people was just the Hero Association.

Completely invalidating her.

-- Update--

Hello everyone! I wanted to take a moment and thank everyone for the kind messages, and general response to my last post. At that point I hadn't even informed my family about what was happening, so I was extremely nervous. I will respond to all the messages when I get a chance, so please stick with me a bit longer!

In other news, Chapter 3 is complete! As always, it will be posted roughly 7 days from now, but I might do it a bit sooner, depending on appointments and such. I have also started on the next few chapters as well, and am hoping, that health and schedule allowing I'll be able to get two chapters out this month!

Also, I wanted to take a moment and address a few things with this fic I've seen pop up a few times. for starters, yes this was MAJORILY inspired by @kitsuneisi and their AMAZING artwork. I'm going to deviate a lot from this point and in the coming chapters, but I wanted to make sure I addressed this. If they are uncomfortable with this I can go back and change things, as I didn't mention I was making this when I started, as I had started with the idea of it being a one-off.

Secondly, I use alternating pronouns for Cute Guy, for she/her they/them, and he/him. There were a few reasons for this, but the main one I can't give away yet as it will have story implications. I'm trying to ensure this fic does the mix-matched pronouns justice, but if people have advice on this I will be grateful. In that same line, Grian does use he/him pronouns as this is based on his MC character where he also uses he/him.

Thirdly, in some of these, it is tagged, as Scarian, which is the ship name between Grian and Scar. Now I'm using it purely in platonic means or in reference to Double Life. It is not my intention for this to be read as anything other than that, and while Cute Guy and Hot Guy flirt with one another, that's to the extent really that aspect of the relationship will take. I don't want this work to offend any of the Hermits, or make them uncomfortable, and the same goes for this fandom as well. While this fic is using the mc characters, there are real people attached to them, and I don't want to give them the ick.

As always, let me know what you guys think, or if you have any questions about anything!

See you in a few days!

#hermitblr #desert duo #desert duo vigilante au #grian #hermitcraft #superhero au #ao3 fanfic #cute guy grian #ao3 writer #archive of our own #hot guy scar #ethoslab #inthelittlewood #tangotek #hermitcraft 9 #health #goodtimeswithscar #mcyt fanfiction #pearlescentmoon

8 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 1 year ago

Text

End of Season 9 + health update (kinda)

So, I finally got a chance to watch most of the Hermits videos about the end of season nine, just finished with Grians, and I was not anticipating that I would cry.

I did. An embarrassing amount.

Something that I haven't talked about in a while, is the recent really bad health crisis I had a few months ago. For those unaware, or who don't remember, I was diagnosed with a form of Lung Cancer almost three years ago.

A few months ago, one of my roommates, allowed her partner into our apartment knowing that they had Covid and didn't tell me or our other roommates. I got sick. Really sick. I don't want to go into too much detail, because it is not pleasant, but since then my doctors and I had to change almost everything about my treatment plan, but the major thing we were unsure of was how would it affect one of my upcoming surgeries.

Originally, this was set for mid-January, but my doctors wanted to run some more tests and make sure that I would be strong enough to undergo it. At the time in late October, they told me they would know for sure by December. And, a few days ago I got the call to go and meet with them.

I'm not strong enough.

Which, essentially means that without this surgery, all they are really going to be able to do is keep me comfortable until I pass.

Obviously, this sucks, and not at all how I had intended things to go. I've not told any of my family, mainly because I don't really know how to at this time. Tomorrow being Christmas it feels wrong to do it now, so I'll probably wait till after the holidays.

Do not worry, I am still making progress on the fic, as it isn't strenuous to do.

Anyway, I felt that I needed to write this with the end of the Hermitcraft season. I had only started watching Hermitcraft during season 8, not long after I had gotten my diagnosis. So season 9 was my first time watching a full season- start to end.

I think that might be one of the reasons I got so emotional towards the end. Realistically, depending on when they start season 10, I won't be alive to see it, let alone the end of it.

Obviously, I'm not saying "they need to start the new season now because I'm dying, and screw how burnt out you guys might feel". That would be ridiculous, and not the point I'm trying to make.

The Hermits introduced me to so much joy, such much creativity, and so much strength. The days I felt like were the end, were made so much brighter, because of the Hermits.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I probably wouldn't have made it through the past two years without them.

So, in the only way that I hopefully can with the time I have left, I want to complete this fic. I want to attribute something back to this amazing community, and the people that got me through so much.

Thank you, Hermitcraft, for making the last few years of my life feel like they were worth living.

107 notes · View notes

obliqueblade · 1 year ago

Text

DDVAU- Chapter 2: You're a real Hero

Cute Guy’s POV

Cute Guy was sure Hot Guy had a death wish. The proof of this statement?

He had absolutely no survival skills. Truly it was a miracle he had lived as long as he had. If Cute Guy had the time, she’d spend weeks researching just how in the world Hot Guy had managed to keep himself alive. Honestly, though, even if they did have the time, Cute Guy was not sure if the possibility of Hot Guy having clones was low enough for them to feel comfortable running the experiment. Knowing Cute Guy's luck, that would be the case, and that was frankly a world too horrifying to imagine. One was enough to give Cute Guy nightmares, there was no need to bring more into the case.

“Hot Guy! Are you immune to instinct or just that crazy,” Cute Guy yelled sitting up on top of Hot Guy. Why on top? Well, circle back to ‘Hot Guy had no survival instincts’ and as a result must be tackled sometimes out of danger. Now would it have been possible for her to keep them safe without having to tackle them out of the way?

Potentially, yes, but that was not the point.

Cute Guy is now sitting on top of Hot Guy. No, she wasn’t… stuck on that fact, it just happened to be the truth. Nothing more to note. Most certainly not something that was taking up a decent portion of her attention. Nope, not even with him smirking up at him, with strands of his brown hair escaping the tie at the base of his neck.

She rolled her eyes as Hot Guy stared up dazedly, before moving to get off. As adorable as Hot Guy could be, Cute Guy was not really looking for another photo op from the press. She had been made fun of enough for the first time, and while Hot Guy most definitely got into more heat for it, Cute Guy could not allow his flock any more ammo against them. He could already hear the chortling of Mumbos laugh now.

Although, the first one had been extremely cute, and Hot Guy was extremely fun to mess with, seeing as how easy it was to turn his cheeks red-

Shaking his head, Cute Guy banished that thought.

Nope, nope, nope. His heart was already spoken for, and besides, she wouldn’t be like those fans who couldn’t separate the person from the job. Nope, she liked their tentative partnership as it was, and did not need to make it any more difficult later. They could stick with this casual flirting and nothing more for the foreseeable future.

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’ve never had any issues before you started joining me,” Hot Guy stated playfully throwing a hand up to be lifted off the ground. Cute Guy smiled, grabbing hold of the hold and lifting him before pulling his face closer in the same movement. Hot Guy’s eyes darted back and forth between Cute Guy's eyes and his mouth, Cute Guy noticed.

“Are you saying you get distracted by me, Mr. Hero?” she asked tilting her head, letting her pink wings lift her up to get closer to Hot Guy’s now burning face. Hot Guy’s eyes darted wildly as he blinked up at her.

“Umm,” Hot Guy started eloquently before Cute Guy laughed releasing his hand and moving back. Maybe the reason Hot Guy had survived as long as he had was just due to the fact that he was adorable.

“It’s okay Mr. Hero, I am Cute after all,” she giggled and winked behind her heart-shaped glasses before turning away and back down the alley ignoring the sputtering frozen hero. As adorable as he was though, Cute Guy was determined to continue to mess with him. Balance the universe and all that.

Originally, Cute Guy had been handling the massive mobs appearing in Upper City on her own, before Hot Guy appeared claiming he was there to help. As adorable as it was, the ‘help�� seemed to come from Cute Guy making sure the hero didn’t get them both blown up. If Cute Guy had not already despised the Hero Association, she would definitely be questioning their judgment in not only allowing Hot Guy to be a hero, but the number 1 hero.

“Hot Guy, are you really meant to be helping right now or did you just miss me?” she called back while aiming one of her pistols at the creeper that had steadily been making its way toward the two.

“Can’t it be a bit of both?”

Cute Guy rolled their eyes before turning and firing at another creeper further down the alley. As cute as it was, the situation was less than ideal. Creepers were best fought from a long distance, or at least in the open. It was bugging Cute Guy slightly though, that rather than perch somewhere and shoot down into the alley where it would be safer for Hot Guy, the hero had decided to march straight into the alley. There were a few reasons that they could have decided to do this, the least likely is that he wasn’t aware of what creepers did. It was basic knowledge that creepers exploded if you got too close and as self-destructive as the hero had proven numerous times over the years, he wasn’t that dense. So then why?

The alley that the two had found themselves in was dangerous. Long, narrow, and with a dead end right behind them. If they weren’t careful they could get boxed in and cause an explosion. An explosion with this many structures around, so closely packed together would cause major destruction in the nearby areas. Cute Guy could only hope that there were some heroes nearby who had evacuated the nearby citizens.

“Well, Mr. Helpful, unless you can figure a way to get out of this alley you’re not going to be much helpful to anyone,” Cute Guy pointed out gesturing to the four more creepers that had started their way. Hot Guy smirked pulling an arrow from his quiver and aiming down the alley.

“Oh please, I’ve got this,” Hot Guy stated assuredly before firing down the alley, hitting one of the creepers. Dropping his bow slightly he turned his head to wink up at Cute Guy.

“See, totally hande-”

“Get down!” Cute Guy yelled lunging at him and pulling him back just as the creeper exploded. The blast sent Hot Guy and Cute Guy hurtling down the alley. Immediately, Cute Guy's back erupted in pain, burns scouring up his back and shoulders. Wincing as the blast ripped several feathers out of place, and searing the rest. Hot Guy slammed into the dead-end wall hard, and Cute Guy grimaced at the sound of the impact.

Behind the buildings croaked ominously, as a deep rumbling began behind Cute Guy. Hesitantly, Cute Guy spared a glance back as the buildings' groaning increased. Alarmed, Cute Guy raised their wings, wrapping their arms tighter around the dazed Hero. Ignoring the immense pain that shot through her wings as she did so, Cute Guy pulled Hot Guy close and began to shakily fly up to get out of the fallout area. If they stayed where they were, they’d be crushed to death. Wouldn’t exactly be their finest moments, though Cute Guy wasn’t sure if it would breach Hot Guys 10 ten ‘not finest moments’.

If Cute Guy allowed herself to go out that pathetically, she’d never hear the end of it.

With every flap of her wings though, they seemed to grow more and more unsteady and weak. There was no doubt that straining them as much as she was was only going to worsen them in the long run, she pushed the thought aside. Right now, this was their only way of escape. Focusing her gaze entirely on the sky above thorough, Cute Guy resolved to ignore the pain. Hot Guy stirred slightly in his arms, and if Cute Guy had any faith in the Old Gods, she might have sent a prayer begging that the hero remain still until they could get out.

But she knew better than to rely on them.

Pieces of the buildings began to rain down, and Cute Guy groaned at the extra strain of having to dodge the crumbling projectiles. Quickly dodging left, Cute Guy focused entirely on plotting a course safely out of the debris field. Carrying the unconscious hero, and trying to navigate the now extremely hostile environment was proving more challenging than Cute Guy had wanted the day to go. Ducking underneath a rather large part of the building, Cute Guy's eyes widened as they realized they were running out of places they could go, more and more of the building pieces were falling in larger sections.

Glancing down ensuring the hero was still in fact unconscious, Cute Guy weighed the odds. As the pieces grew closer, though Cute Guy knew there was no other choice. While risking their own life was something they had no qualms doing, they wouldn’t risk Hot Guy’s.

Closing his eyes momentarily, Cute Guy reached deep within himself tugging at one of the numerous threads within him. Threads that she hated, and suppressed more than anything, no matter how much they demanded to be seen. To be used. Opening his eyes, he was thankful for the pink-tinted glasses that hid his eyes. He knew it would be obvious up close, and the eerie purple glow she knew her eyes were giving off would raise alarms within the Hero Association.

Alarms that Cute Guy would rather they not be aware of.

Without loosening her grip on Hot Guy, Cute Guy glared at the falling pieces, slightly pushing them away to create a wide enough gap for Cute Guy to shoot the two of them through while bringing her wings close to her body. They shot through the gap, clearing all the debris as they did. Relaxing slightly, Cute Guy aimed them to the closest stable rooftop preparing for a nasty landing. As they crashed into the roof, the grasp Cute Guy had on Hot Guy loosened and the hero went rolling several more yards in front of Cute Guy before coming to a stop, still unmoving. The hero's back was to her, and Cute Guy ignored the many doubtless scrapes now littering her elbows and knees.

Cute Guy herself raised herself to her hands and knees, finally suppressing the powers within herself, before raising her head to check on the hero. Shaking her head and determinedly not checking on her wings, Cute Guy crawled over to the hero to ensure he was still breathing. Rolling him over from his side to his back, Cute Guy placed two fingers on his neck, only relaxing when his pulse still beat strongly.

Letting out a breath, Cute Guy didn’t realize she was holding, she sat back on her haunches and stared up at the sky. Relaxing his wings, proved to not help all that much, but still Cute Guy refused to check. Knowing nothing good would await them by looking, they were more worried about how Jimmy was going to react to his wings. That would not be a pleasant welcome home.

“Ughhh,” Hot Guy groaned intelligently, raising his hand to his head before squinting one of his eyes open.

Cute Guy stared down at him, unimpressed.

“So in my defense, I did not know that they could do that,” Hot Guy defended covering his eyes with his arm. Cute Guy almost wanted to laugh at how quickly the hero knew why the stare had been leveled at him, but more than anything Cute Guy was glad the hero didn’t seem to have sustained any brain damage. No more than he already had at least.

Instead of issuing a response, Cute Guy just laid down on her stomach next to the hero.

“Can’t exactly fault you for not knowing. It’s a new “feature” they added to them in the Lower City.” Cute Guy mumbled, angrily remembering how only a few short months prior the newer versions had emerged. Countless citizens had died before people had figured out how they were different from the original, and even then the destruction they had caused was limitless.

Immediately, Hot Guy shot up, “What do you mean a “new feature? How do you even know they’re in Lower City?”

Dumbfounded, Cute Guy stared over at the hero.

“What part of avian did you miss? Of course, I know what happens in the lower city.” Cute Guy started plainly. And to be fair, what kind of question was that? All hybrids, at least with the hero's knowledge were on the other side of the wall. Cute Guy should be the only exception to that rule that Hot Guy would know about. Hot Guy fixed him with his own unimpressed stare.

“Well, obviously, I know that, but how do you know like recent stuff, if you’re on this side of the wall? You’d be seen immediately if you were crossing the walls repeatedly.”

Cute Guy only laughed, before sitting up themselves. Of course, that was the theory the Hero Association had come up with to explain how Cute Guy was getting into the city. At least that meant that her secret was still safe.

“Well I obviously don’t cross every day, that would be a lot of traveling, but I have my ways to get back and forth, Ways I’m afraid, Mr. Hero, I will not be sharing right now.” Cute Guy explained laughing slightly. No doubt whatever Cute Guy told Hot Guy would make its way back to the Hero Association. While they would no doubt eventually uncover her identity, Cute Guy wanted to cause them a bit more trouble before then. She, after all, still had work to do.

“As for your second point, there have always been new features added to the mobs on the other side of the wall. Upper City has just gotten lucky it has such a … dedicated Hero Association to protect them,” Cute Guy practically spat out. Hot Guy winced at the clear hatred in the vigilante's voice, and Cute Guy almost felt guilty. It really wasn’t Hot Guy’s fault what the Hero Association had done, and he had no real way of knowing regardless. Still, sometimes her resentment leaked through that understanding.

“You really don’t like the Hero Association do you?” Hot Guy asked hesitantly.

“It’s a mutual thing” Cute Guy answered immediately, not fully ready to delve into just how they mutually hated one another. Sparing a glance over at the hero though, Cute Guy quickly added, “You’re not too bad though,”.

Immediately, the hero brightened at the compliment.

“Awee see I knew you liked me!” Hot Guy exclaimed lunging at the vigilante, throwing his arms around them to pull them into a tight embrace.

As the hero's hands brushed over his wings and back, Cute Guy let out an involuntary yelp as the pain seared through him once again. They had almost been able to forget about the burns and feathers she had gained during the explosion. Hot Guy immediately jerked back, rescue mode engaging, before turning the vigilante slightly to inspect why she had yelped in pain.

Cute Guy watched Hot Guy’s face drop as he inspected what was doubt a gnarly sight. Belatedly, Cute Guy wondered if she should have just left immediately after ensuring the hero was in fact alive.

“That bad huh?”

At the question, Hot Guy’s eyes darted to Cute Guy's face, and even behind the tinted visor, Cute Guy could see the guilt and worry in his gaze. Brushing the hands off of her shoulders, Cute Guy rose to her feet.

“Wait, Cute Guy, we need you to get you to a -” Hot Guy started, scrambling to his feet to chase after the retreating vigilante. Before he could continue though, Cute Guy cut him off.

“To where? A hospital? There’s no hospital in this entire city that would treat a hybrid. There are too few hospitals on the other side of the wall, with far too few supplies for me to justify going there either. So no, Mr. Hero, this is where I bid you adieu,” while it wasn’t fair to snap at the hero about the situation the world was in, Cute Guy couldn’t help the remark.

“But it’s my fault! Please, I know someone who could help you. They won’t ask any questions,” Hot Guy pressed, still following her as she walked toward the edge of the roof. Guilt raced through her as she regretted the comment. Maybe they wouldn’t, but there was no doubt that the Hero Association would be watching the both of them extremely closely. While they wouldn’t be able to harm Hot Guy, associates wouldn’t have the same luxury. They’d use them as a bargaining chip, and when the deal went through they would kill them regardless. Cute Guy just couldn’t justify that risk, not to one of Hot Guy's friends.

Sighing, Cute Guy sighed before turning her head to stare at the hero.

“Hot Guy, it’s fine. It wasn’t your fault, I made the decision to pull you out of the blast range. I know it looks bad, but it’ll heal up in no time.” Cute Guy assured before turning back to face the roof's edge, reading herself to raise her wings and attempt to fly. The pain reared its ugly head once more, but Cute Guy held in her wince, not wanting to give the hero any more reason to worry.

“But if I can at least help,” Hot Guy kept up, grabbing onto Cute Guy's pink cropped sweatshirt sleeve. Cute Guy had to admit, that while she admired his spirit, he was almost as stubborn as she was.

“But nothing Hot Guy. I know the Hero Association is watching you, and I don’t want to put you in a difficult spot,” Cute Guy replied, prying the hero's hand off of her sleeve, before lifting herself into the air and out of reach.

“I would never turn you into them,”

Surprised, Cute Guy spun in the air to face the hero.

Hot Guy stared up at her, defiance in his eyes. Smiling slightly at the sight, Cute Guy turned away once more. It was that very fire that had pushed Cute Guy to act now of all times.

“I knew you were a true hero,” she said softly before launching herself further into the sky and away from the stunned hero.

Flapping her wings and going as fast as she dared, she raced through the sky at near-breakneck speeds, unsure of just how long her wings would be able to maintain their weight. She knew she had to make it to one of the passageways to Mumbos before they did so.

Still though, despite the pain of the day, Cute Guy was glad to have run into Hot Guy.

Mumbo and Jimmy, however, might have different ideas about it though.

Sighing as one of the alleys that held a passageway came into view, Cute Guy resolved themself to no doubt an endless bereavement from the two about her recklessness. It would be a difficult night for all of them, and the next day of work wasn’t going to be any more promising either.

It was a lecture he was used to hearing at least.

15 notes · View notes