#“Grian isn’t safe.”

[angeart]

I would just like it known that it is entirely unfair that you (and Link!) are so good at both writing and art!

And I wanna know all about that cabin and that breakdown you teased in the tags

And I wanna if lil sheep has a name they're so cute I want one :3

-🎀

we use our talents to deliver angst, it's great. (also also //// thankyouu <3)

i'll tell you about the cabin!! and the breakdown!! i'm so easily swayed. so happy you are taking the bite every time. soooo happy you're encouraging and excited and curious. <3333 might take me some time to make a mini ramble about that but i def want to!! so look out for that :3

(i started writing rescue rambles part 3 but might not be able to finish it today, but but but, i'm working on it! that'll also be fun, promise!)

the sheep doesn't have a name! she just watches and keeps me company. i love her.

[latetothepartyandconfused]

[ID:digital drawing, the life series fanart, twelve panel comic. The comic shows two figures, Grian, who has short hair, sweather and big black eyes and anon, simple figure with no distinct features and sunglasses. In the first panel, The anon looks nervous and offers grian bouquet of flowers. Grian is shaking and hugging himself but looks at the anon. In the next panel we see him reaching for the flowers, His face showing he has been crying. He says "flowers flowers flowers are nice." In the third panel we see the flowers are lilacs and poppies. Upon seeing this, Grian seems shocked. He than starts screaming and cowers his face with his arms. There is darkness spreading from behind his body. In the next panel, the background is completelly dark. His face is dark as well, his eyes white streaks. He sreams "aaah why why why why why". In the next panel we see the anon standing with completely neutral expression on his face while grian screams "Why do you keep doing this to me why can't you just leave me alone" They than put fake expression of disappointment.They say "Oh dear, being overdramatic as always." They take of their glasses while their eyes remain closed and lean to grian who's head is hanging down, his face scribled dark..They say "You chose this for yourself Grian, If you're not gonna watch, you're not gonna entertain" They open their eyes and look at grian. ZThe eyes are pale with dark outline and small pupil." They say "And your pain is very entertaining." They look at us. They smile and ask us "Isn't it?"

maybe we should avoid sweets altogether! how about a nice flower bouquet?

[solsays]

Lifers x Crane Wives

I saw someone comment on a life series TikTok or something to try and pair all of the lifers to a crane wives song, without repeating songs. so obviously I spent an hour doing it

Grian—Tongues & Teeth (self explanatory if you’ve EVER heard this song)

Scar—Steady, Steady (this whole song is about how their partner is walking out but they still want to be “wild and free” which is just SO Scar coded)

Tango—Ancient History (he keeps teaming up with Skizz and I feel like this song vibes with that, it also just feels very Tango)

Skizz—Icarus (this man always gives himself up for his teammates I swear, and he fuels them to keep going. It also says “oh brother, brother” which feels like Skizz talking to any of his teammates to me)

Impulse—Allies or Enemies (Impulse has been very iffy on a lot of his alliances throughout the seasons, especially in third life and with the amount of playing all sides that man has done this songs feels right)

Cleo—The Glacier House (this. this is literally just her leaving Fairy Fort. The song is talking to/about her from probably Lizzie’s perspective, but like the last line is 100% as if Cleo was speaking)

Bdubs—Unraveling (Bdubs relies so heavily on his teammates, and when he doesn’t have that stability *cough* Etho *cough* he just kinda doesn’t know what to do so this song fits)

Mumbo—Keep You Safe (this man is by no means an aggressive/reckless player [see: Joel or Martyn] and he feels like he’s just here for the vibes and honestly? Love that for him. This song is about fear not keeping you safe and watching your friends run high risks, which just is very accurate to how Mumbo plays this series. I also feel like he could fit Rockslide when he goes red cause he goes from standstill to “drop dead sprint” in terms of aggression)

Lizzie—Shallow River/New Colors (Lizzie is the only one I put as two because both of these songs are just so fitting. Shallow river—“wasted all for the title, wasted all for the crown” reminds me of Lizzie trying to kill Scott and ending up dying herself instead. I also feel like parts of it could be dead Lizzie talking to Joel, the only person who is really mourning her. New Colors—“don't tell me that I can't, I need this“ and “I give up my air, to breathe” also feel very accurate with how she is trying so hard and just keeps failing )

Jimmy—Canary in a Coal Mine (no further context needed, we all know Timmy)

Scott—Little Soldiers (this is very flower husbands, but also just feels like Scott looking back on the last seasons including Pearl, Jimmy, Martyn, all his reluctant exes. Also this man is the watchers’ like least favorite person ever and this gives that vibe)

Pearl—Ribs (i changed this from New Discovery because Ribs is entirely about somewhat angrily protecting and helping yourself because nobody else would, and it really strikes me as Pearl with the some things having been good (Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss) and some being bad (divorce quartet))

BigB—Not the Ghost (this man is so incredibly odd, he just constantly feels like he is being haunted by the watchers and just going about his life, he is the human personification of gaslight and we love that for him)

Martyn—The Hand That Feeds (he HATES the watchers with every ounce of his being, and with Ren gone I think this guy’s only purpose is just to spite them)

Joel—Sleeping Giants (go listen to it. That’s all there is to it, it just feels very Joel-ish, this lad is absolutely fucking mental)

Ren—Once & for All (this song feels like war and being betrayed, and Ren has been betrayed so much so it just fits. I mean come on “my blood’s forever on your hands” tell me that isn’t 100% something Ren would say)

Gem—Show Your Fangs (Girlboss moment, we love Geminislay. This woman is not someone to be underestimated and this song very clearly says that so it’s very Gem in my head. She doesn’t have enough lore yet to make it angsty but ONE DAY)

Etho—Never Love An Anchor (I can’t explain it, this song just has Etho vibes. I mean “It’s a secret I keep tucked inside my chest” just seems very him, I can’t really tell you why)

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Ranking current wild life bases on fire safety:

Bdubs, Tango, and Etho (Tuff Guys): That sure is a deepslate and copper fort and a dug out basement! And a moat! No wood here! 10/10

Cleo, Impulse, Pearl, and Scott (The Final Girls/GGGG):We have a cobblestone wall and a basement. The basement is partially wood so that’s gonna dock some points but overall 9/10

Mumbo, Grian, and Skizz(Subones): They live in a mountain side. There is no wood in the main part of the base so that’s good. However, their upper bridges are entirely wood and thus will be gone, as will the railing on the lower bridge. I can already see them getting stuck on a burning bridge. 6/10

Joel and Gem (The Family/Fast and Furious): Joel’s car is safe due to being almost entirely deepslate and diorite but he’s made the floor wood, and Gem’s barn will be absolutely ravaged by flames mark my words. Easy to escape but you made the bridge out of wood. 3/10

Ren and Martyn (Renchanting 2.0?): Oh that’s wood. That’s all wood. However, there’s water built it for an escape route! 4/10

Jimmy, Lizzie, and Scar (Bamboozlers): Cherry wood staircase, scaffolding deathcoaster, and two parrots are the structures currently, though one parrot is made of mostly concrete so it isn’t flammable except the feet. It seems like the whole murder park thing is gonna be pretty substantially made of bamboo and cherry wood. Yeah this isn’t gonna last is it. And your only escape is to scale down the mountain. 3/10

BigB: That’s entirely wood. And your face. It will be burnt sooner rather than later, I don’t even think people are gonna wait to go red before they light it on fire. 0/10

[were-changing-cake-vaults]

Gem would like to pretend that things are normal around Magic Mountain.

Or, well, that everyone else is normal, and she’s keeping all the weirdness to herself. She’s the one who decided to go a little creepy this season, after all, and as far as she can tell, she’s the only one smelling the rot coming from the river. All her neighbors should be fine, and have only commented that her boat burns a lot of coal fumes that sort of reek. It’s definitely not rot, and things are normal for them, and they are decidedly abnormal for her.

Which is fine! Gem wants her friends safe! Sure, she’s been hearing weird gurgling noises from the flooded caves that line the beaches, but she’s probably just hallucinating. Or maybe Scar is smacking salmon heads on note blocks again, despite living on the other side of the mountain. And sure, Impulse died and came back completely washed of color, but that’s just a demise thing. It’s just the creepy she dragged along with her- Joel’s totally fine, and that’s enough evidence for her.

Well, it would be if not for the fact that the salmon she’s been getting from fishing are starting to look…strange, all sharp-finned and much slimier than normal. And the cod, too, have far too many gills, like gashes down their sides. Grian pulls up a fish one afternoon and Gem swears it’s got six eyes, but Grian only remarks them as “weird patterning” and shoves it right into the furnace for cooking.

He’s been eating a lot of fish, recently, straight from this very river, the one that smells of rot. Caught them all himself. He’s also been fishing a lot- Gem doesn’t know the last time he worked on his base. He keeps trying to dredge up a book. She asks him one day why he keeps going if he’s already got a ton of books from the water, and he sounds haggard when he replies:

“The book, Gem. I’m not looking for a book. I’m looking for the book. It’ll give me all the answers I need. I haven’t found it yet, but the ocean will provide for me. I know it’s the next one.”

Something in the way he looks at her makes her gut twist. His eyes are empty, glossed over, and she knows the joke is that he looks like a cod, but it’s- he’s different, now, washed out and shiny skin, little to no meat on his bones, bags like pits under his soulless eyes. Something about the way he phrased that—the ocean will provide for me—makes her spine recoil back, feet dragged backwards towards her boat. A fear-stricken laugh bubbles up Gem throat as she tries to remember the last time he wasn’t fishing. When was the last time he slept?

Come to think of it, when was the last time she slept? Isn’t there a warning for those who stay up too late?

And when she tells him it’s an addiction, Grian just laughs it off, throws his rod into the sea, and pats the seat next to him. And then there she is, fishing alongside him, like she was always doing. She was planning to do this, yes. More and more of Magic Mountain arrives, plus Etho, who brings along a disc to put them in the mood. It’s a swan song.

The ocean sings back. It gives her an image of a great tall lighthouse, cherished by watery angels, who dance around it. It gives her the size, the colors, the materials to recreate it in verse. She smiles. It tells them all to knock another hermit off the list of survivors. She grins.

Before turning to join the group on their quest, Gem looks into the water one last time. Staring back is a well-kept woman with long, shiny red hair.

There is a book in her hand.

[foggysilverfeathers]

Everyone on Hermitcraft knows redstone dust is unbelievably incredible. Everyone on Hermitcraft know redstone is unbelievably dangerous.

Sure, it’s behind every fake decorative door and the key to making a base really shine, but they’re careful. They know the risks. Xisuma is so paranoid that he never takes his mask off, even when it’s safe. Tango makes sure to never have exposed redstone wires, and keeps any open lines tucked away in a closed-off sterile area. Even Impulse has started wearing a respirator.

But Mumbo?

Mumbo’s a special case.

(Sure, inhaling it is akin to inhaling slightly toxic dust, but that’s never stopped him! Everyone else is just being dramatic. And it’s not like anybody has ever died from it, either!)

(Not yet, anyway.)

(And sure, his hair is a bit greyer than the last time he checked, but that’s natural! People age! Salt and pepper hair looks good on him, anyway! He isn’t bothered!)

(Sometimes, it scares him. The lengths he’ll go.)

(It whispered to him yesterday. It told him to kill Gem.)

(Kill the Constellation.)

(That’s what it had said. But Mumbo had somehow instinctively understood, and had killed her.)

(Of course, she respawned. A bit surprised, and a bit wary at his newfound strength and almost inhuman speed, but unharmed.)

(After all, she had a bed. He hadn’t gone as far as break that. Part of him had still known that would have been a bad idea.)

(He’d avoided redstone after that. It was angry with him for disobeying It, after all, but even from a distance he felt It. Red dust swirled in his veins and his breaths came in short bursts. Despite everything, he found himself going back.)

(He couldn’t help himself. It was like that deadly exposure was a drug, and he was fully under its power.)

It didn’t hesitate, and soon that strangely comforting creaking whisper came from the darkness.

Kill the Sun.

“You mean Grian?” Again, part of him flinched at how he instinctively knew who It referred to, but that part was soon washed away. It felt good talking to it. The glow of it ebbed and flowed, pulsing in time to his heartbeat.

The dust was shifted slightly by a nonexistent wind, than settled again. Mumbo tasted metal and blood at the back of his throat.

Yes. G-r-i-a-n. He sees too much.

It flickered again, and Mumbo felt one hand drift forward to touch it. He didn’t really know why, but part of him wanted to.

He ẇ̵̫̹a̷̜̺̮̾̾͆̒̌̓ţ̵̮̖̙̲͖̬̓c̷͈̽̔h̵̠̚̚e̴̮͙̝͋͛̏̒̈́͘s̴͓̼͚͍̹̈́͛͠ͅ.

[krashlite]

Anyways my hot take abt the cheater’s arc is that all four of them were in the wrong but it was mostly Grian’s fault things went so horrendously since man was the reason why the actual Cheating part of the cheater’s arc happened (characters, obviously)

But yeah here’s how they were all wrong yes

Grian was being incredibly controlling because he didn’t trust Scar to keep them safe. Man was scared of his own damn shadow for a lot of this, but his way of ensuring his own safety was basically to tell Scar to stand in one place and not move. He pretty much disregarded the fact that Scar is a grown man capable of making his own decisions And capable of keeping himself, and the both of them, alive. The fact that they were last on green doesn’t reassure him, only confirms that he is in the right for being so controlling. He thinks his behavior kept them alive. He only loosens up once they hit their red life since at that point danger is assumed. Grian DOES NOT learn to respect Scar here, just puts his paranoia on hold for another day. His conclusion is that he was right and Scar was unreasonable

Scar was pushing back against said control since he knew it was unfounded. Again, he’s a grown man capable of making his own decisions. He has a tendency to mock people to show when they’re being ridiculous, something he does here through being purposefully careless. It’s both to point out how ridiculous Grian’s being and a way to punish him for being so obsessive. Instead of having the intended effect, Scar just pushes Grian further away. He later winds up just following everything Grian says, which doesn’t address the root of the problem here. Except he has no way of knowing what’s wrong because Grian doesn’t tell him. From his perspective, the only thing that got Grian back at his side was murder- since the only times they actually stood on equal footing was when there was a plan for a kill or when that plan went well. Scar’s conclusion here isn’t that he was unsafe, but that he was boring. So it reaffirms that he’s in the right and Grian was being unreasonable

BigB is not and never was the mistress in this situation. Had Grian never approached him, he would’ve never left Ren. He was using his Secret Soulmate as an escape from normal relationship problems he was too scared to address. BigB mainly felt overlooked because he has a quieter personality than Ren, meaning Ren wound up making most decisions for the two of them. BigB did a lot to mirror Ren and to be Ren’s other half, but didn’t give himself space to be his own person in the relationship. This is something that’s brought up in couple’s counseling and something they at least started to address before dying. BigB never intended to hurt either of them, since he did love and value both Ren and Grian- something that’s affirmed by how he talks to them after dying. BigB and Ren talk about how they stayed together until the end and B takes the time to forgive Grian for murdering both him and his soulmate

Ren was doing his best to keep Box afloat but failed to meet BigB’s needs. Since B wouldn’t communicate what was wrong, Ren kept trying to course correct in ways that inadvertently made the situation worse. Ren’s instinct is to be protective- to find an enemy to defend against. That enemy was first Pearl and then Clockduo when Bdubs inadvertently got BigB killed. He also reacted to news of B cheating by distancing himself from BigB. Which, reasonable!! Ren wasn’t obligated to save them if B was the one who left. However, this action only pushed BigB away since Ren was so quick to assume they were over. Ren has a habit of isolating himself when something’s wrong, assuming the worst of a situation when things can be fixed. It worked out between him and BigB in the end but goddamn was that rough

Anyways the four of them are very!! Very messy, I love them dearly

[linkito]

What's this au that watcher/vex art was similar to? Tell me all the things? -🎀

It’s less of an au and more of just an idea for a start of something? Either way~

It begins with young Watcher-in-training Grian fleeing from the Watchers, finding refuge in a cave that draws him in with some kind of powerful magical aura. He hopes it can mask his trace.

Unfortunately for him, it’s the home of a large, monstrous vex (Scar). He’s very feral and scraggly looking, and he has some awful magic-locked cage muzzle/gag on, leaving his teeth constantly bared and preventing him from speaking. (It doesn't make him safe by any means; he still has claws and various weapons of past attackers scattered around.)

But he’s not attacking Grian. Not yet. Not on sight. He mostly just...watches with narrowed slitted eyes, waiting for something that doesn’t seem to be coming. 

Grian is frightened, has no weapon, and he’s significantly smaller. The vex should be able to take him down easily.

So eventually they reach this sort of neutral state of neither of them moving any closer. Grian creeps along the walls and eventually, slowly, settles himself down to sit to rest his poor shaking legs. Scar stares for a moment longer, then also sits, still watching.

Grian figures maybe as long as he doesn’t provoke this beast, he’ll be safe.

(And it's true. Scar is used to people coming in here to steal and demand to make deals with him. Grian clearly didn't mean to be here though. But he's keeping a watchful eye. He doesn't trust it.)

Eventually, Grian thinks maybe the vex is asleep. So he takes this time to meditate. His real eyes close, and hee opens his Eyes to try to determine if the Watchers are on his trail yet, reaching out as far as he can to Look.

When he opens his real eyes again, Scar is directly in front of him, staring more curiously, sort of like he’s wondering if his intruder just died whilst sitting up straight.

Grian yelps and bonks his head on the wall trying to scramble backward.

But Scar also yelps (although muffled) and flails back as well.

And despite everything... Grian can’t help but laugh at that? Because why is he startled? 

Now that he’s closer, though, he can make out the Watcher’s symbol on the lock of the cage on Scar’s head. And being spiteful of anything the Watchers might do, he reaches out without even really thinking about it. 

Scar freezes.

He lets Grian touch the trap around him, but he still doesn't know for sure this isn’t an elaborate trick? Something to get close and take him down? It would have been Grian's only way of winning, truly. So Scar places a clawed hand close to Grian's neck. He's slow and soft with the touch, but it’s undeniably threatening. If Grian was going for some kind of trap here, surely he'd flinch back?

But Grian swallows nervously and tries his best to reassure the vex that he wants to help.

And, eventually, Scar removes his hand and cranes his head to help Grian look at the contraption, also baring his neck, tentatively trusting.

Grian breaks the seal and slooooowly pulls the thing off of Scar, and oh Scar is so happy.

He grins, big and toothy (full of sharp edges, but it's still so oddly charming?) and grabs Grian to spin him excitedly.

He speaks now, (and oh if his voice isn't also so charming) and he lifts Grian up, looks up at him, lips far too close. "Oooh my gosh, I swear I could kiss you right now!" he exclaims, but he doesn't, a shame, really, and instead puts Grian back down and just starts excitedly introducing himself.

In this case, Vexes have like unlimited magical potential. But they are limited by only being able to use it under the direction of someone else. (thinking like how evokers summon them and direct them) The catch is, vexes are tricky creatures. They can and will warp your instructions to their liking if you leave any room for loopholes or leeway. That’s part of the reason Scar was gagged. To prevent him from swindling you into a bad deal.

So normally Scar would do whatever he could to bend the rules and screw over his master, but he’s so overwhelmingly happy at being freed that he says to Grian, “Anything you want! It’s yours. Anything at all, no tricks, no nothing.” And he means it, too.

And that’s all I really came up with! Like I said, just a beginning.

I think Grian should ask about that kiss.

[dmwrites]

“Pearllllll, I’m bored.”

Gem all but draped herself over a nearby chair in Pearl’s living room, dislodging Olive the cat as she did so.

Pearl looked up at her from her notebook. “So I see. Tragic.” She looked back down at the pahe in front of her, underlined something.

“Pearrrrllll! I’m so bored!”

“You could go play a few rounds of decked out.” Pearl suggested, flipping a page.

“I already used all my shards for the week. And two of yours.” Gem complained, face-down in the seat, legs flailing out over the arm of the chair.

“You what?” Pearl looked up at her friend again, eyes wide.

“Nothing!” Gem coughed. “I just wanna annoy someone, cause some havoc.”

“Well you’re already succeeding at that.” Pearl muttered, putting her notebook to the side and looking at the mess of limbs that was Gem.

“Ugh. Impulse isn’t even around for me to bother, he’s too busy ‘hunting ghosts’ with Skizz and Scar and Grian. Why didn’t they invite me? I wish I could, like, haunt them or something. Possess one of their bodies and scare them.”

“Possession is easy.” Pearl said offhandedly.

“What?”

“What?”

“Pearlescentmoon! Do you know how to possess people?” Gem gasped, scrambling to a normal sitting position.

“Maybe…” Pearl giggled. “Who do you wanna possess?”

“Oh my god, Scar would be so funny to possess!” Gem said.

“I think we could manage that…” Pearl grinned, holding up a vial with a few bits of dark brown hair inside.

“How did you- actually, I don’t wanna know, I don’t want to have to go to court as a witness one day.” Gem said. “So, okay, how do we do this, then?”

Pearl pulled out a small, stained book from her bookshelf. “Leave it to me. Come back tonight.”

——

Gem and Pearl were sitting on Pearl’s floor in the dark, surrounded by candles. Gem was spooked already.

Pearl checked the time. “Alright, they should be there by now. You ready, Gem?”

“You still haven’t told me what we’re gonna do to put me inside of Scar.” Gem said.

“Simple. Drink this.” Pearl held out a bottle with a dull-looking potion sloshing around inside.

“What is this?” Gem took it and swirled it, frowning.

“Well, if you asked Scar when he downed the bottle I gave him earlier, it’s an energy drink. But it’s actually an awkward potion with a lock of your hair in it.”

“What? Ew!” Gem exclaimed.

“And you have the other, the one with Scar’s hair in it. If you want to possess Scar, that’s how you do it.” Pearl pointed at the bottle. “I’ll guard your body, as I’m sure Scar will be quite frightened to be so short.”

“Wait, he’s taking over my body? I don’t want him in me!”

Pearl snorted. “Ignoring that, what do you think happens to the other soul? It just hangs out? No, silly, it’s got to have a place to go. Scar’ll be fine, trust me. So, are we doing this or not?”

Gem took a deep breath. “This is insane. I should have just gone and killed Etho again. Whatever. Cheers, you weirdo.” She raised the bottle towards Pearl, and drank the entire potion down. For a moment, she and Pearl stared at each other. Then, darkness.

——

“Scar? You okay buddy?” Gem felt a cool hand on her face, gently slapping her awake.

Gem opened her eyes to find a dark haired man standing entirely too close to her face. His own face split into a grin.

“Scar’s alive, guys!”

“I knew he’d faint out of fear.” Grian’s voice came from a corner, not entirely hiding mild distain.

“Come on, man, let’s get you up.” Another voice, Impulse’s voice, came warmly from her other side, and Gem felt herself being picked up. She was set into a chair, and looked up at Impulse, Grian, and Skizzleman.

“Hi guys!” Gem said in her cheeriest voice.

Skizz screamed. Grian screamed louder and higher, clutching to Impulse’s arm. Impulse jumped backwards, falling on Grian, and they both hit the floor. Gem found the wheels of her chair and began moving around.

“Gem?” Impulse finally managed to stutter out, with Skizz and Grian hiding behind him. “Where’s Scar? And how are you… him?”

“Scar’s safe, don’t worry. Let’s go hunt some ghosts, boys!” Gem chirped, leading the way into the haunted house.

——

“Wha- Grian? Impulse? Rizzleman? Did I die? Hello?” Scar sat up, looking around the candle-strewn room in confusion. There was a movement in front of him, and a shadowy figure moved into the candlelight.

“Hello Scar. This is your own personal hell, where you have to pay for the sins of your shulker monsters.” Pearl said in a creepy voice.

“Nooooo!” Scar screamed. “I always knew it would end like this!”

[mochiwrites]

One of the hermits sits Grian down one day and tries to tell him Scar loves him, and Grian, just as faithful to the bit as he is to his husband, just keeps brushing them off.

But then they tell him everything Scar went through while Grian was missing, things they think Grian might not know or realize. How Scar would leave Hermitcraft for weeks on end to scour Highpixel and any other server they'd ever been to and come home exhausted and distraught. How Scar would beg Doc to build some universe-breaking contraption that could find anyone and get angry when told it wasn't possible. How Scar would cry for hours some days and be an emotionless husk the next.

So yes, they tell Grian, who is now in tears himself, Scar loves you. Just tell him how you feel.

Grian goes straight to Scar and apologizes for the 100th time for doing that to him, and Scar just holds him and tells him that none of that matters, that he's home and safe and that's all Scar needs.

“Scar loves you.”

Grian blinks as he stares at both Impulse and Bdubs, the pair looking at him with uncharacteristically serious expressions. This is… not what he expected when being asked to meet at Bdubs’ monolith. “Well yeah, of course he does.” They’re married. Of course he knows! Not that Impulse and Bdubs are aware of that part, at least. It’s been a very funny bit going between himself and Scar.

“No G,” Bdubs argues, making Grian’s brows furrow, “Scar loves you.”

He knows that.

Impulse glances at Bdubs before sighing quietly. “Scar never mentioned how he was when you went missing, did he?” His voice is soft as he asks, calm and friendly.

Slowly, Grian shakes his head. They had of course spoken at length about how hard it was on both sides — with Grian being pulled apart and molded into the perfect little Watcher, and Scar wondering every night if he’d ever see his husband again. But Scar never seemed to want to talk about it much outside of his nightmares. Those nights were always hard, when Scar would cling to Grian, shaking like a leaf as he feared Grian being taken from him again. That was painful enough, he never wanted to press for more.

Bdubs scoffs, “The guy was a total mess! An absolute wreck without you around!”

Impulse elbows him, muttering a quiet “dude.” He looks back to Grian. “Bdubs isn’t uh, exactly wrong in saying that. Scar really didn’t handle you being gone too well.”

Grian tenses as an uneasy feeling sits in his stomach. Of course he knew that it hadn’t been easy for Scar. He can only imagine how badly Scar handled it, something he has a feeling he won’t have to imagine for much longer. If the sympathetic look Impulse is giving him is anything to go by.

“He tried to keep a brave face for a while, I think that was to keep us from worrying too much. Not that it worked much,” Impulse confesses with a weak chuckle. “He’d leave Hermitcraft at least once or twice a month for days at a time, said he was going to Hypixel to search for you. And every time he’d come home looking more distraught and tired than the last. It was… really hard to watch him break himself down like that.” Impulse frowns, absentmindedly brushing off his pants leg.

Hearing that makes Grian’s heart hurt. ‘Oh Scar…’ He can picture it so clearly, his husband racing all over Hypixel, asking anyone and everyone if they knew about Grian or his whereabouts. Going at it for multiple days. Grian imagines him going back to their apartment, collapsing in their bed. He probably exhausted himself often, doing that. Had he been properly taking care of himself? No… probably not.

“And that’s not even touching the stuff with Doc, either!” Bdubs cuts in, earning Grian’s attention. “Do you know how many times during Hermitcraft meetings he’d beg Doc to make some world breaking machine to find you?!”

Impulse grimaces, “Doc would tell him no every time, and gosh, I’ve never seen him get so angry before.”

Neither has Grian.

His wings drop slightly, chest aching at the thought of how much pain Scar must’ve been in. And for so long…

“Cub and I caught him crying a lot,” Bdubs continues, just a tad softer as the air in the room shifts around. Both he and Impulse seem to pick up on Grian’s reaction, the response. “Sometimes he’d cry for hours, or stare obsessively at his communicator. And the next day it was like we were looking at some shell of him.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “He was flat out emotionless, G. I think I could count the number of times I saw him smile on one hand.”

No, that doesn’t sound right. Scar is a man who never stops smiling. He has a smile that’s capable of lighting up the whole room. It’s hard to picture him now without one. Because it’s Scar. Wonderfully bright and happy Scar. The man Grian loves more than anything in the world. For him to lose that…

Impulse reaches out, setting a hand on Grian’s shoulder. “But he brightened up the moment he saw you again, G. You’re Scar’s world, man. He loves you more than anything. So just… be honest with him. Tell him how you feel, yeah?”

Grian sucks in a rough breath, willing his vision to clear as he meets Impulse’s gaze.

————————————————

It doesn’t take Grian very long to find Scar afterward.

He spots his lovable man right in Main Street of Scarland, humming to himself as he constructs a trolley by some flowerbeds. He looks focused, very much in the zone of building as he rests out a color palette or two.

Grian doesn’t hesitate to interrupt him, dropping down beside him. “Scar,” he gets out, of course startling the man.

Scar jumps with the usual goofy yell of his, hard hat falling off his head and hitting the ground with a resounding thud. He looks over at Grian, shocked expression melting into one of fondness as they lock eyes. “Oh! Well if it isn’t the love of my li— oof!”

He’s cut off as Grian barrels right into him, arms wrapping tight around his torso as he buries his face into Scar’s neck. Scar stumbles backward as he rushes to hug Grian back, pressing him close. “Whoa there. Not that I’m upset about this, but what’s with the sudden hug, lovebird?”

“I’m sorry.” Grian pressed his face further against Scar, wrapped up in the familiar smell of spice and earthy tones. “I’m sorry I — I didn’t know how bad it was I—” he breaks off, squeezing his eyes shut, voice wet and shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you about what?” Scar questions, his voice ever so soft as he moves to cards his fingers through his hair, picking up on his distress.

“How it was for you those years I was missing.” Grian wraps his wings around him on instinct, needing him close. He feels the way the other stiffens, going tense in his hold. “I’m so sorry, Scar.”

Scar shushes him, shaking his head as he presses a kiss against his hair. “You have nothing to apologize for, G,” he murmurs. “You’re here now and safe in my arms. That’s the only thing I care about.” And he means it. He and Grian could go through a thousand different trials, but none of them would matter, so long as Scar could hold him and keep him safe again. “You’re home. You’re here. That’s all I need, everything else is in the past.”

Grian’s breath shakes with a quiet and distressed noise, guilt flooding him. He mumbles a few more apologies; for leaving Scar, for not being there, for leaving him to struggle alone. “I love you so much,” he says, “I love you.”

Scar continues to hold him, kissing him all over. “I love you too, sunshine.”

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

Joining on the Doll!Grian train- Grian IS a doll. But not the one you see him as. Grian, the body, is a flesh puppet that Grian dances around and inhabits most of the time so that he can be on the same standing as all the other hermits. He keeps his real stuffing-filled body stored safe away! (In an enderchest usually)

He makes his own flesh bodies- with the help of Cleo- but the thing is… As a doll, he doesn’t fully understand how clothing isn’t attached to the body. Every time he switches “outfits” he possesses a new flesh body… which means he does have a closet filled to the brim with lifeless Grian bodies stacked on top of eachother all wearing different clothes. Scar found it one time, he’s still traumatized from the incident…

.

[kayawolfhorse]

Day 4 — Two Lights in the Dark

—☾—

At the end of patrolling, they find each other on a rooftop.

Scar likes these kinds of days the best, when his knees are in good enough shape to brave long flights of stairs, and Grian’s able to act upon his ridiculous insistence on climbing up whatever fire escapes and window sills he needs to haul himself over the roof’s edge.

Grian’s waiting for him, crouched against one of the large, boxy units. When he catches sight of Scar, he stands, and where the evening sun catches the tips of his colorful feathers and strands of his golden hair, he all but glows. His half-hearted scowl of impatience is familiar and Scar finds warmth in its corners.

“You’re late,” Grian says, by way of greeting. He’s just barely still winded enough to give away that he’s only just arrived himself.

“Five minutes past is not late,” Scar smoothly insists. He digs a pack of candy out of his pocket and tosses it to Grian, who catches it in one deft hand. “Plus, I got you a present, so we’re even.”

Grian’s expression gives way into something closer to a smile, and he pops a bright red candy ring into his mouth before tucking the rest of the package away.

Hard candies. Scar will never understand why he likes them.

“We’re even,” he concedes after a loud crunch, and Scar grins.

Pulling the visor from his eyes, Scar scans his partner’s frame. “How’d the guy go?”

It’s been a quiet evening, save for the odd skirmish or two, and something pulls at Scar’s gut. The inaction feels foreboding, the tension palpable—like the world is pitched forward on bated breath. Scar doesn’t like it.

Grian shrugs. “Petty crook. Tried to pull a knife on me.”

“That went well for him, surely.”

“Yeah, right,” Grian snorts. “He stole a purse, Scar. A purse! That’s, like, the most stereotypical crime in the book!”

“Next time, we’re going to get a thief in black and white lugging an entire safe,” Scar says, snapping his fingers. “Did you return it?”

“Yeah, obviously. The lady hadn’t gone too far. She gave me tons of caramels as payment.” Grian holds out a handful of them to illustrate his point.

Scar grabs one before Grian can stop him, and grimaces when he feels the smooth, hard lump of it. Isn’t caramel supposed to be soft? “You’re going to need a dentist-themed villain to fight at this rate.”

“Wha—? Scar, you don’t need to fight a dentist to employ their services,” Grian says, and his peal of laughter fizzles with confusion. “Cleo’s a special case, and she’s not really our enemy.”

“I suppose you have a point there.”

Scar settles on the roof’s ledge in the shadow of the stairwell’s shed, dangling his legs over the side overlooking the asphalt below. He shifts over slightly, an invitation Grian takes; a shoulder presses into his own and his side is seeped in warmth.

A comfortable silence falls between them as they gaze across the city beneath them. Street lamps have long since flickered on, illuminating people and cars heading home to rest or traveling further into the night for a late shift. Something indescribably close to affection, something indescribably close to grief twinges in Scar’s heart as he takes it all in.

The bustle is a hum from so high up, and Scar can just make out Grian’s sigh through it.

“You can feel it too, can’t you?” Scar asks softly. He feels Grian tense beside him, a barely perceptible change.

“I can, yeah,” he admits. “It’s like the whole city is waiting for something.”

“There’s no chance it could be waiting for something nice, like kittens and rainbows, right?” They both know the answer.

“It’d make our jobs a hell of a lot easier, that’s for sure,” Grian says, huffing. “We really can’t catch a break, can we?”

“We have,” Scar says. “We will.”

“How can you be so sure?” Grian challenges, and there’s a touch of something gentler in his tone. Scar could name it vulnerability, maybe.

“We’ve made it through everything else, haven’t we?” Scar hums. “After all we’ve been through, you and I are still here to tell the tale.”

Grian remains quiet. After a pause, he moves closer to Scar and drapes a hesitant wing across his back. Scar loops an arm around him and holds him close.

For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re still here with me, even after you had every reason to leave. You’ve grown precious to me in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined. No matter what life throws at us, it’ll always be me and you together against it.

I can’t imagine a world without you in it, as my teammate, as my friend, as Grian.

Together, they sit and watch as the dusky sunset gives way to night, darkness lit aglow by the city around them and the smatter of stars high above.

—☾—

Set in @hotguycomiczine!

[lavendernlilac]

It’s late at night when Scar finally finishes up his rounds during patrol. He stands on top of a building, the colors of his Hotguy suit bright under the shine of the moon. He takes a look around, finding the streets of his city safe and quiet. He hasn’t dealt with much tonight besides a robber or two; typical.

He takes a glance at the time through his HUD display, wincing. 5:45am. Well, it’s not six in the morning, so that’s some sort of improvement. He lets out a sigh, shoulders sagging low. “Time to call it a night for this hot guy.”

Turning around, Scar takes off, jumping along rooftops with the braces of his suit pushing him forward. The air is crisp and cool as the breeze moves through the loose strands of his hair. They’re slowly approaching autumn, a thought that makes him smile faintly. He heads in the direction of home, but it isn’t his own apartment. No, no, it belongs to his other half.

It takes him roughly forty five minutes to reach his destination, stopping at the roof of the building right next to the apartments in front of him. Scar takes a careful glance around, making sure that there aren’t any extra eyes watching him. At most he finds a stray cat sitting on the fire exit stairs right by someone’s stairs that he coos at. Other than the cat, the coast is clear. Nodding to himself, Scar jumps down, landing carefully on the fire escape right by the window he’s looking for.

He gives the window a small test, pushing up on it. To his relief the window is unlocked, and he slips right inside the apartment. He climbs through, booted feet landing silently on the floor. Making sure to lock the window behind him, Scar takes a breath. He surveys the bedroom he’s in, the last bits of the moon spilling in through the window to create a streak of light. It’s just enough to light up the sleeping person in front of him, and instantly Scar softens at the sight.

See, he has the wonderful privilege of not only being a bodyguard to famous pop star Ariana Griande, but her boyfriend as well. Not that anyone knows about that second bit.

Taking a moment to simply admire his lovely girlfriend, Scar smiles softly. Her blanket is pulled up to her shoulders, one of her hands lying on the pillow next to her head. Grian’s glasses have practically fallen off her face, tilted and just barely clinging to her ears. Her long curls are splayed across her pillow, a few stray strands fallen in her face. He has to keep himself from giggling at the bit of hair in her mouth. The moonlight frames her perfectly, giving her a near ethereal glow as she sleeps comfortably under the covers. Scar has never been so enamored with someone before, so incredibly sure that she’s the only one for him.

Seeing her so cozy has Scar yawning, and he figures he may as well join her. He pulls his boots and bracers off, striping himself of the external parts of his suit. He’s left with the bare bones of it, just the pants and shirt. His bow and quiver sit against the wall, innocuous. Although after some thought Scar pulls his shirt off as well. Before climbing into bed with Grian, he sets his visor on the nightstand. He also carefully takes Grian’s glasses off her face so that they don’t break in her sleep.

He knows how much she hates wearing contacts, she wears them enough as is when she performs as Griande.

Glasses safe, Scar tiptoes around the bed, deeming it safer to get in on the other side. Standing at the edge of the bed, Scar cringes as the springs creak right when his knee touches the mattress. He powers through it, hoping to avoid waking Grian. And he thinks he does a pretty good job of it!

Scar comfortably lays down on his side, facing Grian’s back. He scoots toward her, holding his breath as he ever so slowly wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest. He gets a hint of Grian’s strawberry scented shampoo and instantly relaxes, comfortable. This? This is the perfect way to end a quiet night of patrol. Scar sighs with content, pressing a kiss to Grian’s hair. He lets his eyes fall shut and—

“Well you’re here earlier than yesterday.”

He yelps at the sound of her voice, flinging himself back. “G-G-Grian!” he exclaims, startled. He sets a hand against his chest, feeling how his heart races. “Oh my gosh you scared me—how long have you been awake?!”

Grian laughs, the sound full of mischief and melody. “Would it make you feel better if I said you woke me up when you took my glasses off?” she asks. “I was already awake but I can pretend.”

Scar heaves a breath, shaking his head. “Of course you were awake as soon as I got in. You’re such a light sleeper.”

“Nah, I just sleep better when you’re here,” Grian sleepily answers, rolling over to face him. She greets him with a cheeky smile, and Scar can’t help but return it.

“Hi, beautiful.” He reaches for her once more, kissing her nose. Just like Grian, he sleeps a lot better with her in his arms.

Grian playfully rolls her eyes at him, affection soft in her expression. “Hi, handsome,” she returns. “Not hiding any injuries on me this time, are you?” She squints at him with suspicion through the darkness.

“No ma’am!” Scar denies. “Unless you count some little bruises, that is,” he amends after a moment, thinking about it. “Some robbers wanted to play tough rather than sitting still to wait for the cops. Not to worry though, they were no match for good ol’ Hotguy.” He grins at her, slipping his hand under the cotton shirt she wears. The act feels so natural, as he settles his palm against the middle of her back.

“Scar, your hand is cold!” Grian yelps as he touches her. “Out! You can touch me when you’re warm.” She frowns.

He looks at her with a small pout, “Oh Grian, you’d let me suffer with cold hands all by myself? After spending the night bravely fighting against evil?”

“Yes.” Grian doesn’t hesitate with her answer.

Scar ups the antics, pulling out the puppy dog eyes as he pleads with her. "You won't even warm me up?"

"You can put your hands under the blanket if you want them to be warm," Grian replies, refusing to give in.

"But Griaaaaan," he whines at her, looping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. "You're my favorite blanket."

"Scar!" Grian huffs at him, setting her hand against his chest. She sighs with fond exasperation, "of course you're not wearing a shirt."

Scar hums, nuzzling his cheek against her head. "I thought you liked seeing me shirtless?" he teases, pressing his cold palm further against her back. He grins as he feels her shudder in his grasp. "Gets you all weak in the knees."

"Oh my god, shut up and get under the covers before you start freezing." Grian moves back to let Scar pull the blankets up, giving him room.

Wasting no time, Scar joins her under the covers with a content sigh. He feels the warmth almost immediately, and Scar practically melts. "Oh sweet warmth, I could fall right asleep just like this," he hums. "Although, something is missing." Meeting Grian's eyes, Scar grins at her before reaching out, pulling his girlfriend right into his chest once more. And just to be extra mischievous, Scar slips his hand under her shirt again. Though, some of the effect is lost now that his hand is a bit warmer. "There we go. Now I'm all ready for bed."

Grian huffs lightly at him, tucking her head under his chin. He smiles as her arm wraps around him, scooting closer. "I'm glad you're not hurt," she mumbles to him. "Else I would've had Skizz track those guys down so I could give them a piece of my mind."

Scar laughs in return, the sound full of warmth as he runs his fingers through her hair. "I'm a superhero, sweetheart. It's a part of the job description."

"I don't care," Grian grumbles, pressing her lips against his chest.

His chest swells with affection, and Scar squeezes her in his arms. "Maybe I should start calling you Hotgirl then," he teases.

Grian pinches him, "Absolutely not, if you call me that I'll lock my window next time you want to sneak in late."

He laughs again, and god he loves this girl. He'd give her the whole world if she asked him to. He'd steal the sun right out of the sky just to gift it to her to see her smile if he could. Scar doesn't care what price he'd have to pay, he'd do anything to make Grian happy, to keep her happy for as long as he lives. He moves back, looking down at her. "I love you," he says, voice soft like honey, vibrant and thick and so painfully sweet.

She smiles at him, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. "I love you too." Grian pulls him down, pressing their lips together with soft intention. Scar melts into it with ease, like it's as natural as breathing; with Grian it is. There's nothing easier than being with her. He moves his lips against hers lightly, nipping at her bottom lip. Grian sighs quietly, one of her hands moving to tangle in his hair, pulling it out of the ponytail he keeps it in. Scar pulls her closer against him, pressing his lips a little harder against her.

Grian lets him move her, feeling him nudge his knee in between her legs. His thumb strokes her back lovingly as he nips at her lip once more, earning himself a pretty, yet muffled noise from her.

Yet before they can go any further, Grian pulls away, breathing heavy as she looks at him. Her hand remains in his hair, strands tangled around her fingers. "As much as I love where this is going, you've been out all night and haven't gotten any rest," she says.

Scar pouts, but doesn't argue against her. He is tired. He sighs dramatically, "I guess going to sleep would be better than staying up and having a good time with you."

Grian groans at the pun on his name, knocking her head against him. "You're insufferable. Go to sleep, Scar."

He chuckles at her reaction, bundling her up in his arms. "Alright, alright. Good night, my pretty bird."

"Good night, Scar," Grian sighs softly, setting her head right under his chin, embracing him. "...thank you for coming home in one piece."

Scar lets his eyes fall shut, tucking his face into her hair. "For you? Always."

[definitelynotshouting]

Hi I’m obsesseddddd with your hunger au and after reading the lore doc and the fic I have a couple questions if you don’t mind

Ok first off this isn’t really a question and more like a “huh wouldn’t that be fucked up” thought but uhhhh. So og grian was pretty much trapped in a box and constantly watched while the larva developed right. Did the watchers ever feed off him? Bc I imagine being trapped and just waiting to die wouldn’t be great for your emotional state. Or would they not since he is hosting the larva and that point so they can’t/wont feed on a host? Oh also you said that he made the deal to become a watcher while under duress. I imagine that duress could easily be heightened by some hungry watchers. And having your brain lightly fried would probably make you more susceptible to agreeing to a fucked up situation

And for my second question I was curious how aware the general populace/the hermits are of watchers?? Like are they a known thing and ppl just aren’t sure how they work or what. Because the rescue group had to puzzle out that grian was benefiting from their suffering in some way, but pearl seemed to have some idea of what grian was with the whole “eating our brains” bit so I’m curious what levels of knowledge they’re operating with here

Anyways thanks for reading my silly little thoughts on your amazing au!! It’s so fun I’m having such a good time with the horrible things happening

Im so glad you like the fic, anon!! :DD im always so touched when people tell me they enjoyed it enough to read the lore behind it-- gods ive gotta update that, there are a sizeable amount of newer asks i havent added to it yet, plus my beloved friend @/corvidaearts made a proper carrd for it on my birthday that i plan on replacing the google doc with!!! Just, uh, as soon as i add aforementioned posts dkcjsjdjfj

That would be super fucked up if they fed on him while he was trapped, OUGHHHH.... id say in canon probably not, because feeding off of one Player is really really dangerous for them, and Grian was now a host for their experiment to see if they could bring their population back up. If anything, nobody touched or interacted with him beyond the bare minimum it took to keep him safe from any potential respawns, and it was likely only the colony elders who even had direct access to him in the first place. THAT BEING SAID..... GODS THATS FUCKED UP I LOVE IT. And, well, i suppose one Watcher did feed on him.. which was Grian himself, as he emerged from his Player cocoon. Player!Grian's final moments of agony and terror were amplified to the max as his Watcher-self's very first meal, and that haunts Grian a lot late at night if he lets himself think about it

The duress he was placed under to become a host in the first place involved a significant amount of heightened emotional leverage though, thats for sure. One of these days i need to map out how exactly that went down, but i know that it involved an offer that was not actually an offer, several lies through omission, intimidation tactics that spanned the entirety of Evo in the first place, and using Grian's own fear-- both of them, and for his friends-- against him. Real fucked up situation all around 😔😔😔😔

General populace does not know much if anything about the Watchers!! The Watchers are, aside from this one colony, pretty much extinct; even before that, they relied quite a lot on camouflage and secrecy to keep their presence from being discovered, both by their prey and by the Seekers that hunted them.

Some very very old Players might know whispers of information-- rumors from the tail end of a game of telephone, as it were. And there are for sure a few individuals here and there who know of them due to personal experience (including the entire Evo crew, which was ofc a special case), but because Player information is not centralized in any capacity in this universe, the vast majority of Players have zero knowledge that Watchers even exist, let alone what they do and how they feed.

Pearl, with her previous knowledge and experience with Watchers and how they operated while involved with the Evo server, made some really good educated guesses about how Grian works and what's going on with him. And ofc everyone on Hermitcraft, plus all the lifers, knows that Grian at the very least can manipulate Player emotions to an extreme degree-- putting those context clues together, you can piece together quite a few connections. She doesn't have the full picture, but at this point in time she's basically figured out a good chunk of it. The rest will have to come from Grian himself >:]

[frozenjokes]

cubfan135 vs mumbo jumbo’s monstrous self induced pseudo catholic guilt (and the world)

Mumbo woke with a jolt, nearly a scream, forehead sweating, fingers gripping the sheets, he needed- he needed- this was wrong, this was all wrong, this isn’t what he wanted, this-

Mumbo curled his fingers into his hair, struggling to breathe, the phantom sensation of Cub’s teeth in his neck not helping a bit. He’d lost himself, completely lost himself, he wasn’t- but-

He was fine. He was still here. He still had his head. He.. was fine.

Still hungry. Still starving, undoubtedly still starving, this had not changed, and Mumbo didn’t believe he’d gotten any relief either since he hadn’t really eaten, and if he remembered correctly, Cub hadn’t been very afraid regardless, but..

It.. It was fine. He had killed someone in a human form, and not only had the experience not overwhelmed him, he had kept his sentience. His shadow still yearned for more, but even it had quieted briefly, like that despite not being able to consume Cub properly, the experience of the hunt was enriching enough to settle the monster, at least for now. The ache of starvation still enveloped Mumbo, but he felt.. lighter?

Maybe it was the reciprocal nature of it all. Cub was just as intent on Mumbo's murder as Mumbo was on his, and given the option, both of them would have drawn things out considerably.

But as shock and the wonder of it all began to fade, sitting in bed, Mumbo was left with an ache deeper than the starvation that haunted him day to day. He just.. felt bad. He felt really bad, and had no idea if it was because of killing Cub, but he didn’t think so, the fight was just as mutual as it was violent, Mumbo had no reason to feel so wrong. But he was wrong, he couldn’t shake it, he was deeply, utterly wrong, he was dirty, he’d just done a terrible thing and all the enjoyment he’d taken from the act made him feel sick and depraved. He was blurring the lines between the Good Mumbo, holy and just, versus the shadow, evil and wrong for wanting and taking, and the discrepancy between these two persons was a source of deep distress.

Mumbo hadn’t planned this, he wasn’t ready for this to happen, but it had, and it had been fine, good even, and he was still here, the threat of losing himself to the clinging tar of his shadow proving to not be an issue, at least right now.

This.. This was good. It should have been good. Why couldn’t it just be good?

At least this experience would stay between them. No one else would have to know. Mumbo could work out these issues personally, figure out why he couldn’t just be pleased with himself, and get on with his life. If he dared to be so optimistic, perhaps that life could continue here, on Hermitcraft, if Cub or Scar found a way to permanently curb the hunger, adjust his species, anything.

But right now he felt dirty and lonely and wrong. He considered calling Cub, but Mumbo got the feeling he’d be about as sympathetic as a rock. Honestly though, Mumbo didn’t need someone to spill the details to, he didn’t want anyone to know the details, he just.. most of him just wanted a hug. To feel safe in someone else’s arms, a little less shameful, a little less guilty. Grian was the obvious choice.

But when Mumbo picked up his communicator to give Grian a call, his heart stopped beating altogether.

cubfan135 was slain by Mumbo Jumbo

Mumbo Jumbo was slain by cubfan135

The chat below the death messages had exploded into noise, filled with ??!??!?s and ‘whoa!!s’ and a particularly enthusiastic ‘YAY!!!!’ from Scar, along with questions and teasing and a chat moving so fast it would have knocked Mumbo off his feet if he’d been standing. Mumbo was famous among the hermits for his stance on violence, his vehement straying from all things ending in pvp and death.

And now everyone knew.

…

Cub woke up a little dazed and a little dizzy, as was typical for an expenditure of that much power. The fire of his adrenaline was still simmering down, and honestly he couldn’t say he knew how he died. Sure, having your stomach ripped open from chest to groin wasn’t very good for your health, but Cub hadn’t felt himself slowing down yet. It was just over. Had Mumbo survived? He had definitely been slowing down, hardly fighting back by the time everything went dark for Cub, but who knew. In hindsight, Cub wished he hadn’t gone so hard on the whole ‘trying to kill Mumbo’ thing, it would have made far more sense to let Mumbo take the meal but alas. He was too focused. Too frightened when the dynamic had suddenly flipped, death in Mumbo’s dark eyes where there had been no intention before, where he’d hardly had the energy to fight back, much less chase Cub through the second section of the maze on elongated limbs.

Cub chuckled quietly to himself. Awesome. Yeah. That was awesome.

He figured Mumbo would have probably thought it was something like awesome as well, at least an adjacent feeling; Cub didn’t entirely understand why Mumbo wanted to be eaten in the first place, but even if there didn’t end up being much eating in the end, it seemed like they’d both gotten at least partially what they wanted. This felt like a breakthrough. A win.

He remembered through the daze with a small jolt that he could check the chat, see when Mumbo had died or if he died at all. Somehow, Cub did not expect the explosion of chat messages that greeted him. The attention wasn’t even directed at him, but it was enough to make him feel queasy all the same, having to scroll to find the death messages in the first place. This wasn’t good, no, Cub didn’t think Mumbo would like this at all, not when the topic was so private, so sensitive. He sent a quick message about this being an accident, a thin layer of damage control he refused to elaborate on as he focused on finding the timestamps of their deaths. Two death messages, he’d seen enough to know that, and very few hermits reacted between the first and the second, so Cub doubted there were more than thirty seconds between their mutual ends. Oof. Hermit reactions were bad though. Hurriedly, Cub sent Mumbo a message as well, first asking if he was okay, and then if he was feeling any better. He just needed to make sure. It was too much attention, too much, Cub hadn’t even thought about that, and he doubted Mumbo had either. Before he tried to bite my damn face off at least.

Cub’s mouth hung open just slightly, caught in the memory. Cub seeing, but not understanding until his wrist was clamped in Mumbo’s teeth, Cub’s blood on his lips while Mumbo’s blood was painted on his own, but there was a shift, exhilarating but equally unidentifiable, Cub’s attempts to escape only half hearted when he couldn’t stop looking at Mumbo’s eyes, dying, or perhaps already dead. That look. That would stay with Cub forever. It was.. well, it was making him feel a kind of way, but Mumbo wasn’t there yet, almost certainly not, though if Cub deluded himself enough to chase this.. He nearly groaned at the thought, a hand drifting to his belt, but wait, stop it, silly stupid dog of a brain.

He checked his communicator, looking for confirmation from Mumbo that he was fine. Mumbo had not responded. Well. Cub hadn’t sent the message that long ago. He’d send another, asking Mumbo to confirm, then wait for an answer. Cub could wait. He could! His priorities were perfectly in order here.

Cub stared at his communicator for a while. He set it down, letting his head flop to the pillow. He stared at the ceiling. Shifted his legs a bit. Crossed them. Uncrossed them. Closed his eyes, letting his neck fall back- no, bad idea. He sat back up, mildly irritated, eying his communicator which should have pinged by now; he’d turned the notifications on for this specific message. Cub checked Mumbo’s texts. Mumbo had read them, but not responded.

Probably not a sign of anyone being upset about anything, surely not, said the part of his brain that was still fixated on the way Mumbo had looked at him, no longer seeing a person, but a shrieking meal. How Cub had known, seeing him then, that he was going to die. That he could not stay here because Mumbo, even exhausted as he was, would overpower him. That he had to run. Cub shivered from the memory, the raw emotion of it crystal clear in his mind, and god if he didn’t want to do anything but chase it with his fingers, aided by memories that would never be this fresh again.

Priorities. Priorities. First Cub would hop over to the moth ball and make sure Mumbo was okay. Let him know it was fine, he’d take care of anyone nosing around where they had no business looking, and after fifteen to thirty minutes of alone time, he’d do just that. Take care of it.

Grian was just about the worst person Cub could have met at Mumbo’s base, but ah well. Grian was staring up into the moth ball, face painted in a hearty concern that Cub quite honestly did not want to deal with, so he flew to the top instead, poking a hole in the ceiling to check if Mumbo was there. He wasn’t. Even worse, his patented expert plan of Ignore Grian did not work.

“Cub!” Grian squawked, typical of him when he was feeling particularly strongly, “What happened? Where is Mumbo- Is he okay? What happened!?”

“I don’t know where Mumbo is. I was just looking for him.”

“What-“ Grian did not get to finish, Cub blasting off on his firework rockets toward Mumbo’s mountain-side town. Unfortunately, Grian didn’t seem to get the hint, hot on Cub’s tail when he landed at Big Ron’s. Cub went inside, closing the door on Grian’s face before he could continue pestering. This was not as effective as Cub would have liked.

“Cub.” Grian seethed, feathers at his neck and wings standing on end, “Tell me what happened.”

“It was an accident, Grian, nothing to cry about.”

“You mentioned that.” Grian hissed through gritted teeth, sounding just about as pissed off as Cub was with him, “Can you spare any details? I am worried.”

Cub considered dismissing him, but Grian would not back down on an issue like this, nearly stepping on Cub’s heels as he poked his head into the back room, saw no Mumbo, then started to make his way out of the store. Cub realized a little too late he didn’t have a story prepared.

“He was helping me screw in a lightbulb. Simple as that. He’s tall and I’m on the shorter side, but even he couldn’t reach it, so I got on his shoulders. Fell. Died. Must’ve been low health, I wasn’t paying attention. Focused on the lightbulb.” Cub continued into the next store. Grian stopped where he was, gaping, so Cub took the opportunity to close the establishment door in his face.

Grian half-growled, throwing open the door and stomping inside. “How- Okay, I don’t- How did you both die? And why did the messages say you killed each other?” Grian sounded an awful lot like he didn’t believe Cub, but Cub was more focused on the fact he’d forgotten Mumbo died too. Hm.

“The lightbulb was really high up, Grian.”

“You said.”

“I couldn’t reach it, even on Mumbo’s shoulders. So I was using my kitchen tongs. Have you seen my kitchen tongs, Grian?”

“No. I have not seen your kitchen tongs.” Grian sounded very much like he was losing his patience, so Cub tried to hurry it up.

“They have sharp ends, kinda sharp, that’s why I was asking. So I was using them to screw in the lightbulb, but Mumbo and I lost our balance, and I’m flailing a little, Mumbo is tall, and as I’m falling I get him right through the neck with my tongs, and he- he punched me. Really hard. Then I died. Then he must have also died. Freak accident.”

“I don’t believe you!”

Cub shrugged, not looking back. “That’s a you problem.”

“Cub!”

“Grian. Relax. Mumbo is fine, it was just an accident. He’s done plenty other things a lot closer to murder than dropping me, so I highly doubt he’s any amount upset about it. I mean- he wanted- he agreed to do the lightbulb! He was totally fine with this! Wherever he is, I’d bet anything he’s asleep. We were doing some pretty intense physical labor for a couple hours before the lightbulb incident, so dying might’ve knocked him right out. I’m pretty tired as well. It’s just a matter of finding where he respawned.” Cub left the store pointedly as he spoke, entering another and shutting the door fast behind him, but this time Grian caught it, wrenching it back open and stepping inside.

“If you’re so sure he’s fine, why turn his whole town upside down looking for him?”

“Just looking out for a friend, G.”

“Since when are you two all buddy-buddy anyway? Mumbo’s never said a word about you! You’ve never said a thing about him either.”

“Not to you.”

Grian puffed up, squawking, “What’s that supposed to mean!?”

Cub turned on Grian, his own patience running dangerously thin, “Has anyone ever told you you’re insufferable. This is none of your business, so butt out.”

“I- How dare you! Of course this is my business, Mumbo’s my best friend! If something was wrong with Scar and I knew and refused to tell you, you’d rip my throat out over it!”

“If something this wrong was happening with Scar, I wouldn’t sit back and watch. I won’t do it, not with anyone, even hermits I don’t particularly know very well. But you would. Even Scar would, neither of you want to touch Mumbo’s issues with a twenty foot pole.” Cub took a dangerous step toward Grian, who stood his ground, but Cub saw the twitch of his brow, the crack in his fury, “If you wanted to make this your business, you would have already. But you haven’t. So I did. Cope or die.”

“What- Cub. What did you do.” It was not a question, but Cub didn’t care to answer, pushing past Grian in a forceful shove of his shoulder. To the next building. Cub slammed the door so hard in Grian’s face that he could not catch it.

“Cub!” Grian’s face was furious and red, the door cracking on the doorstop as Grian whipped it back open, “Tell me what happened! Tell me what you did!” Grian grabbed the wrist of Cub’s lab coat to which Cub whirled on him immediately, raking his claws across Grian’s face. Grian screeched, but Cub was not done, Mumbo was not here, and Cub didn’t need anyone tailing him, especially not Grian. Cub lunged, aiming for the throat, but the neck of Grian’s sweater got in the way, tearing under his fingers. Grian screamed, but was too slow, falling shortly to the second blow. Cub produced his sword, ending him quickly. No need to draw out the suffering, not when Cub would be out of here in less than a minute.

Briefly, he checked his communicator. Mumbo had not responded, nor had he said anything in any public chat, and if Grian hadn’t even gotten a message, well.. Cub didn’t believe Mumbo was asleep, that was for sure. If he could avoid any hermits, he’d drop by Mumbo’s shops just to make sure, then he’d start looking elsewhere. Invisibility would be a godsend today. Cub nodded to himself, taking off toward his own base to retrieve a couple potions.

…

Mumbo understood why pigs liked the mud. There was no shortage of it on the Hermitcraft server, especially this season with the rain, but today it was sunny and warm, and the muck was cool and slick and stuck to you like a heavy hug. The pigs were a little less pleasant. Mumbo had never met a pig that didn’t want to put any part of him in its mouth at all times, which, whatever. Mumbo couldn’t say he cared very much, and given he’d been here for a while, most of them were ignoring him by now.

Pigs were not soft or particularly comforting animals, but they were sweet, if not a little dramatic, squealing and screaming at most inconveniences (reminding him of Grian and Scar, sometimes), though he supposed the pig still trapped in his arms had a reason to be shrieking; if it was any other day, that would have meant certain death, but today Mumbo was just looking for a companion. Not that the pig was still squealing; it had stilled eventually when it realized Mumbo wasn’t trying to hurt it, but the quiet was almost worse, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. He didn’t much like it. Maybe he should get another pig to spoon.

A new batch of them had come around just recently, curiosity apparently renewed as they sniffed and snorted and stepped on Mumbo like he wasn’t even there. He was a little annoyed with them, but that was better than thinking about himself, so all in all, he accepted these next few minutes as they were, covered in muck and mildly uncomfortable with a massive sow cradled in his arms and snorting contentedly.

“Dude, this sucks.”

Mumbo shrieked, dropping his pig and making Cub jump up in turn, more startled than Mumbo had ever seen him.

“What?” Cub looked around a little wild eyed, like he was not the problem here, “What’s wrong?”

“You- You- Where did you come from!?”

“I’ve been here for a while now!” Cub matched Mumbo’s volume, but alarm was shifting more to bafflement, “It’s- I thought you knew-“ Cub stopped, looking at his communicator, “It’s been twenty minutes. You looked directly at me I thought- Do you sleep with your eyes open?”

“Not- Not usually-“ Mumbo’s heart still raced, but he was starting to calm down, confusion overtaking his terror. Slowly, he latched back onto his pig, who had apparently fallen asleep. “Goodness gracious me.”

“Yeah. That.” Cub laid back down, kicking absently at a pig who was stubbornly chewing on his pant leg. He was quiet, but only for a moment. “Did I say that this sucks yet? Why are you doing this.”

“I can’t go home.”

“Is this about the death messages?” Cub grimaced, inhaling guiltily through his teeth, “Yeah, I really didn’t think that one through. Not that things went entirely as planned, but oh well. It’s okay though, I’ve got it under control. If anyone bothers you about it, you can send them right to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Mumbo felt his voice crack, and his entire heart and soul split in two. No pigs could have drowned out the weight of his shame, not with Cub right there, not with the extremity of his starvation slamming back into him in the presence of the person he didn’t survive long enough to take. But he wanted it, he still wanted it more intensely than he did before, and maybe the worst thing was that Cub was just fine with that- How was it that he could be so okay while Mumbo was still being crushed under the weight of his own fear and guilt.

Cub sat up, brow furrowing in confusion. “About.. about what? It’s fine, Mumbo, whatever it is. You don’t have to be so upset, not about anything. With the death messages, I’ll take care of it. I promise I will.”

“I know you don’t care!” Mumbo felt wretched, a horrid sob wracking his entire body, “I know it doesn’t matter to you. I know you don’t care. But I care. I care so much, and I can’t stop caring. I didn’t even get to eat, I hurt you and I couldn’t even take it, and you didn’t even care, it would have made a terrible meal, but I’m still- I can’t stop hating it. Hating me. I know there’s not a single reason I should feel this miserable and that’s worse! And everyone-“ Mumbo’s breath caught in his throat and he choked on it, burying his head into his pig, who snorted absently, “Everyone is going to know. It doesn’t matter what you say. How you explain it off. If I have to eat, then they’ll all know. They’ll- they won’t hate me-“ Mumbo’s voice dropped to a strangled whisper, hardly having the strength to push out the words, “They won’t hate me. But if they’re smart they’ll be wary. They’ll be afraid. They’ll know what I’m going to do to them, and they’ll be afraid. They’d be right for it, and I’ll be miserable. Just miserable. And I- I think I’d deserve it. It’s just like you said, isn’t it? It’s such a selfish thing I’m doing, holding on to sentience. To live like this, knowing exactly what I’ll do in the end.”

“I- I don’t remember saying that-“ Cub stumbled over his words, looking like a man severely out of his depth, “Oh dear.”

“Yeah.” Mumbo muttered, somewhat snide as he side eyed Cub from where his face was buried in his pig. He couldn’t help it, the bitterness that crept through his tone. It didn’t really matter what Cub said or did, he had started this. He was the one all but forcing Mumbo to eat, to try it, to hold onto some sort of faux hope that this could work, keep him sentient, only at the cost of doing exactly the thing he so desperately wanted to avoid. Hurting people, his people. Taking advantage of every fear and frenzy, using them to hold on to his own unraveling humanity. Cub would not find a cure in those woodland mansion libraries, nor would Scar, they couldn’t read the language, and Mumbo did not believe any amount of old magic could fix him anyway. He was older than the oldest magic. He was too broken. Evil was too integral to his ever-shifting design.

Cub looked like he was staring down a lion’s den.

“You’re not human, Mumbo,” Cub spoke slowly, cautiously, like he knew whatever he was going to say wouldn’t be helpful, but he didn’t know what else to do, “You’re a predator, you’re hungry, and it’s not wrong of you to eat.”

“It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter, Cub! It doesn’t matter what I do, it always ends with me being miserable. I can’t even spare the world from my existence, I can’t die, I just live on, hunting and spreading my wretchedness everywhere I go. I’m doomed to hurt and be hurt.”

Mumbo could not read minds, but he knew well enough that the stark fear that was pulsing off Cub in heavy waves was not due in any part to the impending destruction of the server, or Cub’s potential role as a rat to a snake. Cub didn't know what to do because there was no reasoning with Hurt. Cub was looking for a way out like a rabbit cornered by a salivating dog, and boy was Mumbo ever, the patch of skin where he held the sow tight to his face wet with his own saliva. God, that pissed him off. That Cub was more afraid of him right now than he’d ever been.

“That- That’s not-“ Cub looked distinctly like he was waging a great internal battle, every single muscle in his body strained, “It’s not true. That you’re only- You’re not only hurting people.”

“Is it not? What do you call this then, Cub? Wiping out whole servers and then having to face what I’ve done before moving on. Worse, befriending the server’s inhabitants before I tear them all to shreds. It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter if I’m not a human, if I deserve to eat, or even if technically it’s not morally unsound to do any of the things I’m doing. It doesn’t matter. Because I, human Mumbo Jumbo, will still feel like shit.”

“No- Not that, not that..” Cub trailed off, and Mumbo was willing to bet he was more fidgety than he’d ever been in his entire life, “You’re not only hurting people because.. I- Some- Some people, just throwing this out there, haha..” Cub stopped, staring so blatantly at Mumbo for any sort of reaction or change, but Mumbo remained stony, glaring daggers right back, “..Some people might find that whole endeavor, uh, kind of attractive.”

…

“Not me though, haha. Not.. I’ll see myself out. But like. If there was a case that this was the case and someone did find these encounters to be some kind of net positive, then you would be wrong. So you wouldn’t have to be sad about it. Because someone. Not.. naming names or anything.. Someone might be very pleased about it.” Cub paused, fiercely anxious, then as if Mumbo didn’t understand, clarified, “Like. In the jerking off about it kinda way. This world is full of freaks, Mumbo. You gotta- you gotta be careful-“ Cub scrambled to his knees, tripping over the pig that was still after his pant leg, “I’ll go. I’ll go.” Cub seemed to hit the height of his terror, seeing an out, desperately trying to leave, and at the back of Mumbo’s mind, he and his shadow both seemed to agree that if ever there was a time to seize a meal, it would be now.

For the first time in his entire existence, Mumbo killed Cub instantly when his back was turned, because any other method would have lost precious amounts of that sweet terror.

And just like the first time, his first human murder, the feeling was all encompassing, but unlike then, in his state of extreme hunger, all Mumbo felt was deep, deep relief.

He took everything.

And afterwards he stumbled away, sluggish and dizzy in the wake of his first satisfying meal in ages, and he laid down in the grass outside of the pig pen. Maybe the craziest part, the most baffling, striking thing about this, was that he did not feel emotionally bad. Maybe he couldn’t feel bad, not in the afterglow of a meal so intense, but this hadn’t.. None of this was engineered. Mumbo was upset, very upset, and he still might be? He couldn’t tell, not now, but Cub had gotten worked up all on his own.

It was different. Distinctly different, but the outcome was still the same.

Mumbo didn’t have the mind to think much longer, about the implications of what this could mean for him or anything else. He was still so tired, from the respawn and the events before, and his limbs were heavy and heart slow, his body seeming to shut itself down as sometimes happened after a particularly good meal.

…

Mumbo was disoriented when he woke up at home. At first he was frightened; he’d been tucked so firmly under the blankets of his bed that he could barely move. He’d wondered if he’d died, but dead people don’t wake up under the sheets. Had he dreamed…? Mumbo tried to go over the events of the past day in his head, and all of it was so certifiably insane that it very well could have been a figment of his imagination, especially the part where he’d killed but not gotten to eat Cub in the labyrinth, hunger dreams were a bitch, but he- quite honestly, he couldn’t get over the bed! He did not trap himself in bed like this, someone else had done it, and they’d done it like they never wanted Mumbo to get out of bed again.

There was something on his forehead.

Wriggling, Mumbo managed to get one arm out of his blanket prison. He plucked the sticky note off his forehead, reading it through bleary eyes.

‘I am so sorry’

Mumbo stared, blinking slowly. That must be from Cub, that’s the only person who could have left it. That’s the only person who could have brought him back here, too, unless he told someone, which sparked a moment of fear in Mumbo that he quickly dismissed. He very much doubted Cub would tell anyone; for all his nonchalance, Cub at least seemed to be protective of this secret. Well. To anyone but Scar, maybe. Still, Mumbo was pretty sure this was Cub’s doing.

Mumbo wrestled against his blankets, finally breaking free with much effort, then sitting up in bed, heaving a long breath. It was almost shocking how much air he could take. In the depths of his starvation, anxiety was one of his worst enemies, and it was always a small shock to remember the feeling of a full chest of air. Mumbo closed his eyes. His head still ached, and badly at that, but it was different. His health was not good, one meal would never fix him so completely, but the voice at the back of his head was just a little bit quieter. He felt satisfied for the first time in so, so long. Not sated, no, never sated. But satisfied. Mumbo let a small smile cross his face, slow, but genuine, and sighed, reveling in a good mood he hadn’t experienced naturally on his own for a long, long while. Maybe this could work. It was truly astonishing how rapidly he’d gone from wretchedly depressed to.. well, maybe hopeful was a strong word. This just.. didn’t seem so impossible anymore.

Mumbo looked back down, squinting at the sticky note.

…

Why was Cub sorry again?

[solargeist]

What the relationships between different Hermits and Kid Xelqua are like:

POSITIVE!

Mumbo - Pretty positive all things considered. He manages to entertain him, and generally is a good uncle figure.

Scar - The favourite. Scar gives him unlimited access to snacks and all sorts of unhealthy food (much to Grian’s chagrin). Once gave him so much sugar, Xelqua entered a 5 hour long sugar rush. Grian still hasn’t forgiven him yet because it was an absolute nightmare.

Doc - Surprisingly positive. Despite Doc’s turbulent relationship with Grian, Doc has a soft spot for kids. He’ll drop any kind of tension when Xelqua’s around to not worry him. He’ll still absolutely body Grian, but usually when Xelqua isn’t looking.

Pearl - Due to her leniency, Xelqua likes her. He can get away with anything when she’s around and generally doesn’t impose any harsh rule of punishment on him

Etho - He just thinks Etho is cool (usually because he keeps maple candies in his pockets). An Ethogirl in the making.

NEUTRAL!

Joe Hills - He’s a living Sesame Street styled puppet and Xelqua keeps mistaking him for a normal puppet toy. He once nearly suffocated poor Joe by hugging him a little too tight around his neck.

Xisuma - Barely sees him and for good reason. Xisuma has enough on his plate as admin, he doesn’t need to have to add “babysitting a god” on his plate as well.

Impulse & Skizz - They help Grian out occasionally to watch over Xelqua. Typical fun uncles you can find, but Xelqua doesn’t know much about them or why Skizz gives him the heebie jeebies when he unfurls his Angel wings or when Impulse reveals his full demon form.

Gem - Like Impulse and Skizz, generally friendly with Xelqua, but he’s unsettled by her, but he doesn’t know why. Maybe he senses that Gem isn’t truly a deer satyr and something to do with the rustling in the forests and night and the lingering smell of blood on her.

NEGATIVE…

Cleo - She’s scary to him. Like how you would be scared of the principal when you were a kid in elementary school.

Cub - All the fireworks he uses this season are too loud for him. He has to cover his ears everytime he has to go near the shop.

Joel - Xelqua keeps walking in in Joel in the most embarrassing moments. Like seeing him cry in front of the statue of his wife because she isn’t in the server, falling down an entire flight of stairs, reading Iskall’s creepy Yandere letters, etc. There were several moments where Joel had to cover Xelqua’s mouth because he was about to air all his dirty laundry.

AKDNDJSKAK

of course Scar is the favourite, Xelqua would love his builds, he’d like the animals and Scars silly voices and rambles. He’d also love Scar’s off road wheelchair/ATV, it’s so fast ! He’d absolutely eat all of Scar’s snacks, he’d be talking a mile a minute when Grian shows to pick him up, he just silently glares at Scar.

I love when people draw Doc with Doccy on the server, just a big scary goat and his little goat kid, it’s why he has a soft spot around Xelqua, he’s so tiny. Tho I can only see them interacting if Xelqua accidentally ends up in his base area, got lost maybe. I think Xelqua wouldn’t be scared of Doc despite his looks bc 1) he looks like Scar’s zoo animals (big Goat) and 2) Doc has a kid too, so he’s gotta be safe. Grian is very confused when he sees Doc calling him.

The Joe Hills part almost made me choke AKDNDKSK Joe being a puppet is my favourite design it’s so silly. Xelqua watches a lot of TV, he’d be in awe… so happy to see a real life puppet… Grian has to grab his hands to stop him from choking Joe out.

I think Xelqua would just be intimidated by Cleo at first, he’d warm up to her ! Him being scared of Cub bc of the fireworks is so true tho, Xelqua very much hates the noise and is actively afraid of thunder, he’ll wake Grian up if a storm rolls in at night, and probably hide behind him if a firework went off and no one told him it’d be so loud !

poor Joel 😭😭⁉️⁉️ tho if Joel grabbed Xelqua and covered his mouth like that, Grian is immediately there, he crosses the room so quickly man Watchers don’t play around abt their kids 😭💥 Grian doesn’t even realize he moved or separated them, for a split second his brain didn’t see this as a joke or playing around. Joel gets to see those purple eyes up closeeee and shouts

this was very cute and silly to read ehehehe, also for some reason I think Xelqua would think that Xisuma is Grian’s uncle, no idea how he came to this conclusion.