#Impulse pulling Grian by the arm

[starri-bs]

The Trio trying to help Grian finish the back of his base:

Impulse: Hold my hand, you are going to finish it, you’re doing great

Gem, literally pushing him towards the base: Go, go, go, go, go do it

Scar: I will shoot you in the face if you don’t finish it

[zedif-y]

He’s falling.

He’s falling, Impulse thinks again, panic dulling his senses. His wings sprout from his back, flapping in desperation as he falls down, down, down.

His shoulder is an explosion of pain, white-hot and throbbing as blood trickles and bleeds into his shirt. The arrow shimmers with magic, because of course, of course–

Just my luck, Impulse thinks, bracing for impact. Get shot off the wall after summoning a Wither. 

What a stupid death.

“–Impulse!”

The white walls of the base taunt him as he falls, and suddenly– Nothing.

—

The first thing Impulse sees is red.

Red feathers, red sweater. Bloodied, shaking hands.

“–mpulse, wake up!” He hears someone hiss, shaking him as his vision clears. A dull pain wracks his body, but it isn’t… “Impulse, come on, please–”

“…Grian?” Impulse croaks, expression twisted in pain. The hand stills. “I’m not dead?��

Grian scoffs, “You’re welcome.” He scowls, then, quieter, “When I found you, you weren’t breathing.”

That… Huh. “You saved me?”

Grian looks away, “I– Yes. What, why?” He spits, defensive. “Saw you fall.”

His hands are trembling, still.

Impulse frowns. He sits up with a wince, his shoulder stinging as he moves. Grian’s hands shoot out to steady him, hovering inches away from him, “Be careful!” He snaps. Impulse stares at him, incredulous.

“Gri, I’m not gonna keel over–”

It’s only then that he gets a good look at Grian, and the words fall away.

He looks… Awful.

His feathers are singed, blood and soot all over his wings. His hair is a mess, and his beloved sweater is torn, the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He’s bleeding sluggishly from a wound on his head, and his arms are covered in blood.

Impulse swallows. His blood.

“…Why?” He asks, his throat dry.

Grian looks down, his mouth pulled into a thin line. Impulse grits his teeth.

“Grian, why did you save me?”

Silence. It prickles at his skin.

“They killed the Wither,” Grian replies, his voice dull. “I just– I saw you fall, and I got–” His hands ball into fists, “I got…”

Grian’s expression twists. Crimson drips down his face.

Then he stands up, eyes still downcast. “C’mon,” He mumbles, holding out a hand. “They’ll find us if we stay here. We gotta go.”

Impulse takes his hand, heaving himself up with a grunt.

There’s cheering in the distance. Impulse doesn’t face him as he says, “Thanks, I… I owe you one.”

Grian just shakes his head, tired.

“Don’t mention it. Just be careful,” He mutters, “You’re all I’ve got left.”

[hopepetal]

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Boatem Knights AU fic masterlist

Read on AO3!

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

@applestruda

“Impulse!”

“Scar!”

Cub scrambled forward, falling to his knees next to Scar's limp form. He wrapped his arms around Scar and pulled the other close. He carefully brushed a hand over Scar's face. “Scar? Scar, man, can you hear me? Scar?” His movements became more frantic with each passing moment, and he gently shook his friend. “Scar, c'mon. C'mon. Wake up.”

Pearl, still in her Watcher form, knelt by Impulse. Her hands ghosted over his body, finding his neck (he had a pulse, good), his forehead (no fever, though she wasn't sure what she was expecting), before she finally searched for magic. 

There was so much. 

It surrounded his body and wrapped around like chains. It stretched up toward his neck and wrapped around him like a collar, with another strand of magic connecting him to Grian. A quick glance told her Scar had similar magical bonds. If she looked more closely, she could see several more magic strands connecting to Grian, stretching out into the distance before fading away. 

Oh, void. 

Stay calm. Don't panic. Breathe in. Out. In. Out. In, out, in, out inoutinoutinoutin–

“Pearl? Pearl? Oh goodness, oh, I don't– Cub–!”

Warm hands took her own, Cub shifting out of his vex form as he knelt in front of her. “Hey, Pearl. Can you look at me?” Void black eyes met his. Cub smiled softly, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. “Okay, good. Can we match our breathing? In… and out. In… and out. You're doing so well, Pearl. You're doing so well.”

Pearl slowly got her breathing under control. She felt her watcher form fall away, tears making tracks down her cheeks as she gazed at Cub. He was crying, too, though he made an effort to smile. “...I'm so sorry,” she sniffled, “I couldn't– I tried, I couldn't protect them…”

Cub nodded. His hands trembled slightly as he glanced over at Scar. “They're alive,” he whispered, as though speaking too loud would cause their sleeping friends to shatter. “They're alive.” It was a desperate mantra, a chant, a reminder to keep calm, don't break down, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay. 

Pearl swallowed thickly, blinking away tears that clumped her eyelashes together. “I know. I– I saw magic. It was like chains and they all connected to Grian. I…” 

Cub’s eyes widened. Pearl paused, leaning forward slightly. “Do you know what's happening?” she asked. 

Cub pressed his mouth into a thin line, nodding. “I think so. One moment…” He shifted into his vex form. His eyes glowed softly as he scanned Impulse and Scar's bodies. “...oh, no. Ohhhh, no.” He pushed his glasses up, sighing heavily. “I was right. They're in a shared dreamscape.”

Mumbo paled. “A what?” he asked, wringing his hands together. “Are they okay?”

Cub gave a helpless shrug. “I don't know, man. I don't know. But shared dreamscapes– basically, Grian's magic pulled them into his own dreams. Judging by the violent nature and everything that's been happening, I doubt it was his doing.”

Pearl nodded, trying to think. “Could I override Grian's magic with my own, then?” she suggested, wings fluttering softly behind her. “Do you think that would work?”

Cub shook his head. “Dreamscapes are tied to the soul, something we don’t really want to damage. It’s probably best not to attempt that.”

“Then what do we do?” Mumbo asked. “Just wait for them to wake up? It can't be that simple. Can it?” 

Cub shook his head. “Unfortunately, unless we find another way to wake them up, they'll remain in the dreamscape until…” He trailed off. The implication was clear. 

“We can't let that happen,” Pearl decided, the others nodding. “Cub, do you know anything else about the dreamscapes? Anything at all?”

Cub hummed thoughtfully, shifting back into his mortal form. “Long ago, there was a civilization that boasted superior knowledge of the dreamscapes and souls. It's where I've gotten all my information from– but given how remote and run down their temples are, not many people have tried to venture in.” 

Mumbo tilted his head. “I think I’ve heard of those before. Aren’t they… well, cursed?”

Cub sighed. “There are quite a few rumors of a curse surrounding these places. I’ve never been to one myself, but I have reason to believe these rumors are due to the incredible amount of ambient magic there. Stay in the area for too long and you’ll probably start hallucinating.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “The connection to the void in these places is strong. We don’t know enough about this civilization to be certain, but I have a few theories that the civilization worshiped the void.”

Mumbo frowned. “So this is the best shot we have for finding something to help our friends wake up?”

Cub nodded. “Like I said earlier, the amount of information we’ve retrieved from these places is minimal. There’s a good chance that you’ll be able to find something in one of these temples– anything would help. From there, we can try our best to work out a solution, but if we’re lucky we might just find one.”

“So we find one of these temples and look for answers, then. Do we know where they are?” Pearl asked. 

Cub chewed on his lower lip, thinking for a moment. “If I had a map of the realm, I could probably give you a rough estimate of where one is. They were pretty secretive about where their temples were, but I got my hands on some books that helped me piece together where the main ones were. I believe the closest one would be about a week's journey from here.” 

“That’s wonderful and all, but, uh, we should probably–” Mumbo gestured at their fallen friends– “probably get them somewhere more… comfortable? Before we continue, I mean. It can't be too nice sleeping on the ground. Or healthy. I mean… yeah,” he finished awkwardly. 

Pearl and Cub stood, the former nodding along to Mumbo's words. “Good idea. Should we move them all into Grian's tent, do you think? It has the most space.” She turned to Cub, wordlessly asking for his opinion. 

Cub nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. We'll move some bedding in there first, and from what I've seen there will still be enough room for us to sorta move around, y'know?” 

Mumbo and Pearl nodded in sync, and the three began to move. It was a quiet task as they worked through the numbness that had settled within them as the panic slowly left. Every now and again, Pearl would sniffle softly, Cub would choke back tears, and Mumbo would mumble something under his breath. They felt hollow. Just this morning, things had been fine– as fine as they could've been, at least– and now they were down three knights, and void knows who else was affected by Grian's magic. 

Once they finished setting up the bedding, it was time to move Impulse and Scar. “I got him,” was all Cub said before he went vex and hoisted Scar up in a bridal carry. 

Mumbo glanced up at Pearl from where he stood next to Impulse. “I, uh– I don't. Got him, that is. If you couldn't tell.”

Pearl gave him a weary smile. “You got his legs, then?” She knelt by Impulse, sliding her arms under his back and shoulders. It was nice to see how much he had improved since the incident several months ago– when they'd first rescued him and brought him back, he'd been starved and fatigued, and had lost quite a bit of weight. He'd slowly regained his strength as he healed, and trained himself back up to where he'd been before. Pearl was proud of him for this. Even if it meant he was a little more difficult to pick up and maneuver. 

“Alright.” Mumbo got himself situated. “We lift on three. One, two, three!” With a soft grunt, he carefully helped Pearl lift up Impulse. Slowly, they brought him into Grian's tent and lowered him down onto the bedding they'd placed.

Cub looked up from where he had knelt by Scar, brushing the other's hair out of his face with a gentle hand. “All good?” he asked, humming softly when he received confirmation. “Okay. Do you have a map of the realm?” 

Pearl thought for a moment. “Mm, I think I should have one in my tent. I'll be right back.” She ducked out of Grian's tent, jogging over to her own and quickly digging through her storage. She easily found what she was looking for– pros of an organized storage system– and hurried back to Grian's tent with the map in hand. “Here.” She handed it to Cub, who unfurled it on the ground. 

“Oh! And!” Mumbo handed him a pen. “So you can mark it down,” he explained. 

Cub tapped the pen twice against a point on the map. “This is where we are right now, you see?” He traced the pen over the map. “And this is where I live. So you're going to start your journey as if you're heading to my place, and then…” He carefully drew the pen across the paper. “You'll be traveling through a forest, then a plains area, before running into a village. I recommend leaving your horses there– you'll be heading almost immediately into a thick jungle. I imagine it'll be about a day's travel before you reach the temple, but it could be more if you get caught up in something.”

Pearl exchanged glances with Mumbo. She reached up to nervously fiddle with the red crystal that hung on a string around her neck– it had become a bit of a nervous fidget for her over the past few months. “And this is the only lead we have. To fixing this whole thing,” she confirmed, frowning slightly at Cub's nod. “I hate to put all our diamonds in one chest, but if it's all we have, then we have to try.”

Mumbo nodded as well. “Yeah. I don't– we can't just sit around and do nothing. That would be absolutely bonkers.”

Cub nodded. “I feel like it could go unsaid, but I'll be staying here to watch over these three. If anything happens, I'll do what I can to help. And of course, I'll be protecting them and keeping them as physically healthy as I can.”

Pearl let out a shaky sigh. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. Cub, mate, I don't know what we'd do without you.”

“Scar's my friend too, Pearl,” Cub gently reminded her. “I know him better than anyone else. I have to look out for him.”

“Of course,” Pearl quickly responded, “I just– still. Thank you.”

Mumbo nodded. “Yeah, mate. You've really done so much, without you we wouldn't have our only lead.”

Cub frowned, anxiety shining in his eyes. “It may not lead you to anything of value,” he admitted, “but it's the only thing I know of that could possibly be of help. Other than traveling into the dreamscape itself, which would be a last resort if anything. Outside interference tends to change the dreamscape, and that could end up damaging not only their souls, but yours as well.”

Pearl hummed softly. “It makes me feel a little better, knowing we have a last resort at all. Two options are better than one.”

“Right on,” Mumbo agreed. “Though, it's still quite nerve-wracking, isn't it?”

Pearl let out a breathy laugh. “Just a bit.”

Cub smiled gently. “It's going to be alright, you two. Now…” He turned back to the map. “Where was I… the jungle. I've traveled this far, went right up to the village. The only reason I'm really giving any credit to this option at all is because I sensed a strong source of magic in the jungle. I wasn't able to make it there, but I know…” He tapped the pen against the map before circling an area. “The temple should be around here. Pearl, you'll be able to see the magic as a Watcher, I'd imagine, so I'm not too worried about you two getting lost. It'll still be quite the long journey, and you may run into danger along the way.” Mercenaries went unsaid. 

“I won't let anyone hurt you,” Pearl promised Mumbo. “We'll be alright. Even if we're down three knights, we're still strong. We're still– we're still knights.”

Cub handed the map to Pearl, giving her a weary smile. “I recommend you start packing for the journey. It's going to be a long one, and you'll need to be well prepared.”

Pearl and Mumbo nodded, both standing up. Pearl carefully pocketed the map as Mumbo ducked out of the tent. She glanced back at their sleeping friends before exiting the tent. 

It was quiet in camp, quieter than it had been in quite some time. As the adrenaline from earlier began to wear off, the weight of their situation truly began to settle on the three still awake. 

Pearl's hands shook as she carefully packed medical supplies. What if they never wake up? 

Cub hesitated as he carefully wrote notes about the sleeping knights' health. What if he made a mistake that he couldn't fix?

Mumbo tried to stay calm as he worked on sorting items to take for the journey. What if his lack of strength caused them to fail?

It took the two knights about an hour to finish gathering everything they'd need for the journey, and by then the sun was beginning to set. Mumbo took Pearl's hand and led her to where they always sat and watched the day give way to night. The two stood, silent and grieving, and Pearl wished she could wrap a wing around Mumbo and hold him close. She settled for giving his hand a slight squeeze, returning the teary-eyed smile he gave with one of her own. 

“It'll be okay,” she whispered. “It has to be, eventually.”

Mumbo nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I certainly hope so.”

The two slept in Pearl's tent that night, desperate for the comfort of each other's presence, clinging to the familiarity that they had come so close to losing altogether. Their sleep was dreamless, and they woke up with the sun the next day. 

“Good luck,” Cub wished them, pressing a potion of health into Pearl's hands and one of regeneration into Mumbo's. “Be safe.”

“You, too,” they responded in sync, unable to hold back smiles at that. 

Pearl quickly ducked into Grian's tent to check on her brother (his fever had gone down, at least) and say goodbye. Then it was time to leave, and the two knights mounted up. 

“I don't know if it's just me,” Mumbo pointed out as they rode out from their home, “but we seem to be a magnet for trouble.”

Pearl let out a weary chuckle. “Nah, it's not just you. Never a dull moment around here, is there?”

“You could say that again,” Mumbo muttered. 

Silence fell over the two, the only sound being the horses' hooves against the ground and the soft chirping of the early morning birds. Pearl couldn't help but be reminded of Grian, with how he would sometimes instinctively respond to the birds with little chirps and trills. 

Mumbo seemed to notice how the mood sombered. He delicately cleared his throat. “Weather's been nice, lately,” he said quite awkwardly, and Pearl started giggling. “What? I was just– I was trying to lighten the mood, is all! It's good to try and keep our spirits up!” 

Pearl shook her head, blinking away tears as she laughed. “No, no, thank you, I just wasn't expecting that. Consider the mood successfully lightened.” 

Refusing to just wait around and hope for the best, the two knights began their journey. 

“The king has collapsed!” 

Doc strode through the palace halls, following the harried footsteps of the servant. “Tell me more,” he instructed briskly. “What happened?”

“The king, his advisor, and the head of the royal guard have all collapsed after an extreme magic surge that broke past all warding sigils. The royal medic and magical specialist are on their way,” the servant explained quickly, panting slightly. 

“And who else is aware of this?” Doc pressed, rounding the corner with the servant. Up ahead was the door that led to the main meeting room, and the servant paused before entering. 

“Only those I listed, sir. As well as you and I.” Their eyes flicked nervously up to Doc's before they quickly looked away. “I'm magically sensitive, sir. I was nearby when I felt the surge.” 

Doc nodded curtly. “Listen here. You will tell no one about this,” he instructed. “If word got out that three high ranking officials– including the king himself– had collapsed after a possible terrorist attack, there would be chaos. You will be compensated as necessary.”

The servant's eyes widened as they shook their head. “Oh, no sir. I don't need compensation. Just… is his majesty… will he be alright?”

“Only one way to find out.” Doc pushed the door to the meeting room open. 

Just as the servant had told him, the three had collapsed. Martyn's nose was bleeding slightly, likely from the extreme amount of magic that had been involved in the attack. Ren had slumped over in his chair, and BigB had fallen to the floor beside Ren's chair. 

Doc strode over to Ren. He gripped the king’s shoulder, giving him a light shake. “Hey. Hey, man. Wake up.” He heard a soft, shocked inhale come from the servant, likely at the casual form of address he used with Ren. They had dropped the formalities with each other a long time ago, becoming close friends as Doc advised him and helped work on inventions together. 

“Sir, I don't think…” the servant began hesitantly, “I don't think they're going to wake up. Whatever magic that caused this is strong. I can't tell any more than that.”

Just in time, the magic specialist burst in through the door, followed closely by the royal medic. From there on out things became a blur. Ren, Martyn, and BigB were moved to the private infirmary, and Doc eventually found himself standing in front of the council. 

“As of right now, the king is incapacitated. As your acting regent, I will take his majesty's place.” Murmurs of assent and concern rose from the council, but Doc quieted them with a raised hand. “All you need to know is that the king is alive and healthy. I’m sure you’re all aware that the public must not know of this. There would be chaos, and we cannot afford for the kingdom to be in disarray at a time like this.”

The meeting concluded shortly after, and Doc left to go check in with the royal medic and magic specialist. “How are they?” he asked quietly, glancing over at his friends' sleeping forms. 

The magic specialist pursed their lips, before sighing. “I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. The magic used is more powerful than anything I've ever seen. As of right now, they are unharmed, but have effectively been put into eternal slumber.”

Doc frowned. “And is there anything we can do to help them?”

“Keep them under close watch. I'll continue to carefully study the magic affecting them, and call in those from the guild who specialize in these kinds of spells. Other than that…” The magic specialist shook their head, shrugging slightly. “All we can do is wait.”

The forest was unusually quiet as the queen of the fae stepped out from the shadows. She had been drawn to her husband by a sudden surge of foreign magic. Looking around, Lizzie was quick to find Joel. He lay on the ground, limp, surrounded by his dogs. 

Geraldine, who was pressed up against Joel's side whimpering and nudging him gently with her nose, looked up at Lizzie. She wagged her tail once, twice, before nuzzling against Joel's side with a whine. 

Lizzie quickly made her way to Geraldine, flowers blooming at her feet as she walked. “Oh, Joel…” She knelt by him and gently felt his forehead, then glanced over at Geraldine. “What happened?” she asked, and brought her hands up to rest against Geraldine's soft fur. “Tell me, my darling.”

Geraldine closed her eyes, and Lizzie saw. 

She saw Joel walking through the forest. She saw magic, surrounding him and binding him, pulling him to the ground. Her heart ached at his fear, at the expression of terror on his face right before he collapsed. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered. Tears made warm tracks down her face as she pulled herself from the memory, “I couldn't protect you.”

Geraldine whimpered, placing her head in Lizzie's lap. Lizzie gently stroked her soft fur as she took deep breaths. “Good girl,” she murmured. “Thank you for staying by him.” She carefully picked her husband up, closing her eyes and bowing her head. 

In a flash of light and shower of flower petals, Lizzie and Joel, as well as his animals, disappeared. Whisked away to the fae realm, where Lizzie could keep them safe, and wait out whatever curse had taken her beloved. 

Iskall had been cleaning the counters when three of his patrons– one of his best friends included– collapsed after a rather terrifying explosion of magic. Dropping the rag they had been using, Iskall ran to where they had fallen. “Etho!” He grabbed his friend's shoulder and roughly shook him. “Etho, are you–?” They cut themselves off. Carefully, they turned Etho over and checked for a pulse. 

Okay, good. He had one. Now for the other two– Cleo and Bdubs, Etho had introduced them to him earlier. They had pulses too. That… was good. Okay. 

What now?

“I should move them somewhere more private,” Iskall muttered to themselves. “Yeah. Good idea.” 

It certainly took more than a little effort to move all three to a room– thankfully, there was an open one on the first floor, and Iskall heaved a sigh of relief when they had gotten everyone settled in a bed. “Now… what do I do?” they asked no one in particular, before sighing. “Probably call a doctor. I'm not qualified for this.” 

In the end, all Iskall could do was wait. 

Zedaph was having… a day.

He would've called it a good day on any other occasion. Skizz had found him! Somehow, the mountain guide had managed to track him down and bust into his super secret science spot, which Zed swore he'd hidden quite well. No matter. Skizz was a friend!

A very angry friend, who, given what he was ranting about, had a very good cause to be upset. 

Something had happened with Impulse– a demon had possessed him, apparently, and had come very close to dying. When Pearl (one of Impulse's new friends, Skizz had explained) sent out letters contacting the rest of Team Z.I.T.S, Zedaph had never gotten his. Most likely because he practically lived in a cave, hidden away from the world. 

(Tango had lived in a cave, too, but he had recently moved in with a friend after a creeper incident.)

“And look, man,” Skizz was saying, talking more with his hands than anything, “I'm all for living out in nature. But c'mon. We needed you!”

“I'm sorry,” Zedaph apologized, “but everything's fine now, right? Impulse is alive and safe?”

Skizz hesitated. “Yeah, he is. But I'm still mad at you, because that was a real jerk move of you. Y'know, the rest of us kept in contact! Somewhat! You just dropped off the map to do your crazy… experiments!”

“It's not crazy, it's science.”

“Oh, you–”

And then there was magic, purple and screaming and swirling around Skizz. Zedaph felt something tug at his core, but it slipped away before it took hold. Skizz wasn't as lucky, and collapsed. 

Then there was silence.

Zedaph blinked. “Oh, that's fascinating.” And slightly concerning. Actually, mostly concerning, if he thought about it.

He should get Skizz some blankets. He didn’t want one of his friends sleeping on the floor, after all!

“Alright, you two, follow me…”

Jimmy and Tango did as Scott instructed, walking down a carefully manicured path to the large structure in Scott's yard. They'd come to buy flowers for their place in the city– it would liven the place up, Jimmy had promised, so Tango had reluctantly agreed to come along. Scott grew flowers as a hobby, so they'd made the trip to his cottage. 

They stepped into the greenhouse, Scott closing the door behind them. “Come right this way. Did you have any preference on the type of flower, colour, size…?” 

Jimmy shook his head. “Probably shouldn't be too big, though. I'm not trying to grow a whole tree here.”

Scott laughed. “Shame. Trees are quite lovely this time of year.”

“With how often Sparky over here starts, well, sparking, I don't think trees would be a good idea.” Jimmy nudged Tango, who groaned. 

“I don't spark that much! And things don't catch fire, Jimmy!” he protested. 

Jimmy was about to respond when he felt a sudden surge of… was that Grian's magic? “Hold on, what–”

Pain flared in his head, and Jimmy cried out. Tango called his name, but Jimmy couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears. He felt blood trickle from his nose, and then…

Magic.

He barely had time to cry out Tango's name before something tugged on his core, and Jimmy collapsed. The other two soon followed. 

Three fell asleep in a flowerbed, untouched and unseen, with only the flowers as witness.

[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!”

[chipperchemical]

here's a headcanon for most Skizz ships to prove my theory that he is the most shippable man to ever exist

Bdubs/Skizz - Skizz pampers the HELL out of Bdubs. giving him random gifts, constant PDA, always letting him steal his clothes. (you know how when cats lick and clean rabbits, both the rabbit and the cat think they're the dominant one in the exchange? yeah. that's them.)

BigB/Skizz - they have the strangest uncle vibes you've ever seen. they'd show up to the gathering with homemade desserts, forget everyone's names twice, refer to each other as "roommate" while wearing wedding rings, and leave with the bowl of Doritos. cryptid couple.

Etho/Skizz - as they lay together, they'll both trace each other's scars oh-so-gently with their fingers. sometimes they'll trail kisses down them. Etho isn't much of a touch person, so Skizz treasures these rare moments when they're so intimate.

Scar/Skizz - they have watched the entirety of the Star Wars franchise about three times by now. Skizz still isn't really sure what it's about because Scar likes to ramble over the dialogue with trivia about each individual scene, but he prefers it that way anyway.

Grian/Skizz - it's pretty common to see them both up in the air, having a flying competition. Grian is objectively much better: he can swoop and curve and dive with such elegance, while Skizz can barely change direction without a bit of stumbling. they're both too competitive to give in though, and it's just so much fun! so far, the score is 82 - 0. (and hey, if all that flying exhausts them both so that they get home and cuddle until they sleep, then bonus!)

Impulse/Skizz - Skizz always seems to know when something is bothering Impulse, to the point where he'll fly across the server to see him because he "just had a bad feeling". it's always correct, and Skizz always makes sure to comfort Impulse.

Martyn/Skizz - they make each other laugh SO hard. it's rare to see them not smiling around each other because of how much chemistry and banter they have. absolute chaos bringers.

Mumbo/Skizz - Skizz can very easily pick Mumbo up as if he weighs nothing. if they're together, Mumbo barely gets the chance to walk anywhere because Skizz just loves carrying him bridal-style to various places. sometimes Skizz will even have Mumbo in one arm and another hermit in the other just to show off; Mumbo finds it quite handsome.

Pearl/Skizz - Pearl makes Skizz bouquets of flowers as random gifts, "just cause!". he keeps all of them in a vase in his base, keeping them until they're wilted and dying until she gifts him a new one. occasionally he'll put a flower in his suit pocket when they go out, to match with one in her hair.

Ren/Skizz - they're constantly play-arguing about who's the better lover, who's better at flirting, etc. they will only stop when Skizz pulls Ren in for a kiss so he physically can't argue back.

Scott/Skizz - they're all softness and sweetness. Skizz will talk to Scott in a softer voice than usual, making sure he bundles up warm or has a hearty breakfast; Scott laughs and pushes him away ("I don't need you mothering me!"), but he does find it quite endearing to not be so independent for once. bonus: they're totally like parents to the rest of the group. they've grounded Jimmy twice.

Joel/Skizz - the MOST competitive couple on the server. if they're going somewhere, it's a race; if they're flirting, it's a challenge; they are just non-stop. at first, Skizz tried to reign in Joel's competitiveness a bit, but it's just so much more fun to make everything into a playful competition. they are the reason Uno was banned at the group hangouts.

Jimmy/Skizz - refer to themselves as "jizzle" when together. they enjoy the sheer rage and disappointment that it's always met with.

Tango/Skizz - they are the MOST PDA couple you will EVER see. Tango is constantly calling Skizz handsome, hanging off of him, gently biting him on the arm; likewise, Skizz always has an arm around Tango, squeezing his cheeks as he tries to talk, pressing kisses all over his face and arms. it's sickeningly sweet.

Cleo/Skizz - they're both so chaotic but in such different ways: Cleo is one annoyance away from setting fire to someone while Skizz is one funny idea away from setting fire to himself. sometimes they have to reign each other in, but most of the time Cleo is burning down a building and Skizz is cheering them on from the sidelines. he brings little cheerleader pom-poms.

Zedaph/Skizz - they are banned from the kitchen after trying to make instant noodles in the coffee machine <3

[theworstbiscet]

Skizz comes into the hermit meeting with a scowl and sits in the seat farthest from his actual seat and Confused everyone sits down with grian ending up by impulse instead. Cleo's the first to break the tension

Cleo:...so how was your guy's Valentine?

Skizz: it SUCKED.

Tilting her head Cleo tried to hide her giggle and asked why.

impulse huffed and waved him off: instead of wings this year he asked me to get him chocolates-

Skizz: YEAH chocolates Just chocolates, NOT chocolate covered Carrots!

Throwing his arms up impulse barks: You like carrots!

Skizz: Yeah but not covered in chocolate! You know what- your sleeping on the couch.

Impulse smirked: you know I cant because I have my back thing

Skizz grinned maniacally: That's why we have a pull out dumbass!-

As their bickering becomes more heated xisuma takes a fat sip of his tea and settles in his seat while the others try to scoot away, a lazy grin under his mask.

[days-until-burnout]

G-

Grimpulse?

Modern house party au?

Impulses roommates (skizz and tango) know he likes grian and impulse is oblivious that grian also likes him and and anfmfdjb

📧 Day 108 -

Characters - Impulse/Grian, ft. Skizz, Tango, Joel, Etho & Gem Words - 1,676 Time - 60 mins Content - Modern | Joel & Gem are drunk

“Come on, dude! Gotta make a move at some point!” 

Skizz lightly punches his shoulder, and cheap beer crashes out of the red cup down his sleeve. Impulse looks at his bestfriend and flatmate with tiredness in his eyes. Skizz remains unaware, continuing the barrage of encouragement. 

“He’s here! You have to say something.”

Impulse ignores him, taking a swing from his own cup. The beer has gone room temperature in the meantime, then gone warm during the ‘intervention’. He is lucky, at least, that everyone seems more interested in sticking to the living area where the music is echoing headaches and drinks are being spilled everywhere. 

Somewhere, among the crowd, is Grian. 

He sighs, taking another gulp, almost wishing he could go beyond drunk so he could skip this conversation. 

Or, maybe drunk enough to get some courage and confess. 

Both are appealing options. 

“Flat meeting?” Tango calls as he uses his shoulder to push the door into the kitchen. He looks between the exasperation on Skizz and the utter tiredness on Impulse, and instantly knows. His face breaks into a smirk, eyes glinting as he joins them at the counter. “Oh-hohoho, this is much better.”

Skizz raises his cup and they clink their cups, sharing the misery. 

“Can we not?” Impulse drags a hand down his face, glancing at the pair before looking away with defeat. His shoulders deflate, turning his back to them to place his empty cup on the counter. 

“Hey buddy, look, we’re just looking out for ya, alright?” Tango sighs, shaking his head slightly. His head spins slightly, a little tipsy, so he leans into Skizz’s arm. “Just– go talk to ‘im. Say hi. Y’know—” he waves his hand, Skizz chuckling beside him “—that whole friendly Impy you are.”

“It’s not the same!”

“Hmmmm-it’s.” Skizz retorts. 

“I– Whatever. I’m done. Let’s talk about something—” 

The creak of the door stops Impulse’s words, a sinking feeling in his gut. He turns his head to the slow opening door, the world slowing down as it opens more and more to reveal no one yet. 

Then the door opens suddenly, someone falling on it. 

“I broke the wall—” The person says as they scramble to their feet. They look at the door, the trio looking at them in amusement. 

“That’s a door, Joel.” 

Joel squints, nodding as he lightly pushes against it. “I think so.”

Impulses sees the crowd behind Joel, overwhelmed with the thundering music. He sees no one that catches his eyes, distracted by the swaying Joel. As he opens his mouth to say something, Etho appears at the door frame, an even more tired look in his face. 

“C’mon on, stop bothering them.” Etho grabs Joel’s arm, tugging him away. 

And there is a crash, followed by a crowd of cheers that makes Etho’s head snap in said direction. His brow furrows before pulling Joel away harder. 

The door closes. Impulse considers going upstairs to his room. 

“Someone thought it was a good idea to give Gem and Joel a bottle of whiskey. Not their best idea, and neither was accepting it.” Skizz chuckles. 

“Sucks for Etho,” Tango laughs, a little meaner. 

“I think—”

From one moment to the next, the door is open again. The music slips in, filling the room with waves of sound and the smell of alcohol. Gusts of laughter and cheers. It does a good job reminding them that they should probably be out there keeping an eye out on their flat.

On the other hand, Scott has not called yet, so he has it under control. 

But now, Impulse looks up and his eyes land on Grian standing at the door. His palm is against it, sliding down slightly, the sleeves of his sweater rolled up. And his hair is a mess, strands sticking to his forehead with sweat, and his skin shines with sweat and glitter. 

Their eyes meet, and Impulse can see the slightly purple on his contacts. 

“Hi,” Grian smiles. 

Impulse raises his cup in greeting. 

Their moment is broken when Grian looks away first, behind Impulse to the other two who are suddenly quiet. No doubt with cheshire smiles, but at least their lips are shut. Grian nods at them. 

“What’s up? Need something?” Skizz asks first. 

Then Tango adds, “Or running from the noise?”

Grian huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Water.”

“Oh! Are they out? C’mon, let’s bring out the water bottles.” Skizz straightens, feet firm on the ground as Tango jumps down from the counter. 

Impulse turns to give them a hand, watching them pull out cases of water bottles. Tango takes one and Skizz stacks the other two, flexing his muscles as he picks them up. 

“Lemme lend a hand—”

“Algoods, Dippledop. Help Grian.”

While Grian is unable to see his face, he glares at the pair who only laugh at his face. He takes a step to them but they are quickly scurrying around him, past Grian and out the door. 

Soon enough, he is alone with an amused Grian. 

He steps in, and Impulse keeps his eyes on the door for a moment. He sighs as it closes, offering a sheepish smile. 

“Water, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah.” Grian looks at the door, then back with a smile. Impulse feels his heart jump. “You know what? I might stay a bit. It’s so much quieter here.”

“Course,” he nods. “Oh, right. Lemme get that water to you.”

Impulse pushes against the edge of the counter to straighten, walking back to find a cup. He fills it with cold water, freezing when he turns to find Grian beside the spot he had been standing on. His face glows from his phone, light catching on his lashes and eyes, highlighting the line of his lips. 

And sensing being stared at, Grian looks up. Then he smiles. 

The two steps to him are eternal, his body refusing to cooperate. When rust settles in his bones and his mind blanks, he finally makes it to him, handing him the cup before taking his spot on the counter again. He leaves some space between them, but Grian is still too close. 

Any closer and Grian might be able to hear his heart over the base thumping all around the flat. 

“Have you been hiding all night?” Grian laughs, and it sounds so smooth up close. Impulse wills himself still, almost stiff. But Grian sets the cup down, jumping onto the counter. The distance between them is cut shorter, he notices in his fixation. “I barely saw you. When I first came in, I think.”

Impulse drops his head, a chuckle escaping his lips. His head is pounding and thinking is becoming harder and harder, but he speaks, trying to keep his voice leveled. “Sorry. Were you looking?”

A pause. 

Impulse turns his head, looking at his profile, fixed on lips pressed tight. His own feeling dry, something stuck on his throat when he tries to find a joke to break the tension. He feels it stick to the air around them, the sinking feeling in his stomach from a bad joke. Hence, his voice comes out quiet, hesitant and almost scared. 

Scared. Hopeful too. 

“Were… you looking?”

At the expense of Impulse’s crumbling self, Grian takes another second to compose himself. He breathes in as he straightens, but he is shaking a little, or at least Impulse thinks he is. Impulse’s vision might be blurry, anxiety overwhelming and overtaking his senses. 

Grian turns slowly, lips parted with words that come up short. 

Their eyes meet, both struck with an addictive feeling. 

Impulse opens his mouth to speak—

And Grian jumps in the silence, inching closer, eyes wide with the expectation. His hand lands on Impulse’s forearm, squeezing bruises into it. 

Grian looks down at him, eyes flicking between lips and eyes, closer, closer—

Until the room crashes in burning heat. Alien from them, heads snapping to the source where they catch glimpses of the outside crowd. 

Then two bodies scramble up, swaying on their feet, holding onto each other to find balance. 

Grian slides away, pulls away, and Impulse misses the weight on his arm. The warmth from their closeness. So he stares at him, at the distance again. 

“This– isn’t outside,” Gem slurs, squinting around as Joel holds his head, both wincing at the littlest of movements. Her eyes land on the pair, face breaking into a wide smile. “Joel! It’s them!”

Joel groans at the sharpness of her voice, squinting before realizing. Even in his drunken state, or because of his drunken state, he is able to match Gem’s sudden excitement. 

“You’re together now, right?!” Joel calls out first. But he is already cheering with Gem before they are given an answer. 

Impulse is taken aback before looking at Grian, seeing the blush on his face and the utter panic in his eyes. He feels a matching warmth on his face, though he hopes it is recent. 

“Oh my gosh! Finally!” Gem squeals. They bump into each other, which does nothing to smother their joy. “You—” she points at them, swaying, “—you don’t know, do you? No, no. You don’t, silly, silly couple.” 

“It’s– It’s alright, G.” Joel laughs, beaming and smug. “You’re finally together! Idiots. Ev’one’s been waitin’. Took bloomin’ long!”

“You’re drunk, shut up.” Grian says sternly, though his voice wavers. 

To their diminishing luck, however, the door opens one more time. An frustrated Etho who looks more exasperated when they rush to him, beaming and swaying. 

“Eefo! They’re together!”

“Yeah! Grian and Impulse are finally—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You two are going home now.” 

Without sparing the ‘new couple’ a look, Etho grabs both of them and storms out. Anyone’s guess what the pair had put him through. 

And when the emotions settle, the baffling experience slows down, Impulse freezes when Grian takes his hand, squeezing hard again. He looks at him, at the pleading expression on his face. 

And he knows. They know.

“Seven tomorrow?” he asks, near breathless. 

Grian only nods.

_____

i have a problem called 'cant be concise'. it's incurable it is. im just stupid am i back to reqs? hopefully. if not, then too bad so sad (for me) also, idk where etho joel & gem came from. i shouldve just had skizz and tango be the drunk ones tbh. oh well :"P

[click for a random day]

[arc852]

It's been a while since I've shared an AU but I have a lot of thoughts about Skizz and Joel joining hermitcraft and I've decided to turn it into G/t.

So basically, Skizz and Joel are joining hermitcraft but something goes wrong. Everyone is starting in a circle for the start of the season but their two newest memebers are nowhere to be seen. Everyone is confused and more than a bit worried when messaging them yields no results.

Meanwhile, Skizz and Joel wake up in a field, only a few inches tall and with no memory except their names and a vague sense of familiarity towards each other.

Because of their memory loss, they reasonably assume they have always been that size and decide to set up a small base in a tree and try to avoid the giants of the server at all costs.

Of course, eventually they get found and caught and a lot of misunderstandings come about it. Because even though these people feel familiar, it's hard for both Skizz and Joel (mostly Joel) to believe they are telling the truth.

Have a little snippet of something I wrote for this! This takes place after Skizz and Joel are caught a second time. (Also, they refer to themselves as borrowers because that is what they believe they are).

 Joel held out his sword and as the giant hand came toward him he slashed at it, sending it reeling back. “Ow! Joel!”

 Before Joel could react again, Grian’s other hand came at him and knocked him over, holding him down against the dirt. Joel felt the wind get knocked out of him for a brief moment before he struggled to try and get away.

 “Grian! Stop, you’re going to hurt him!” Joel heard Gem cry as Joel realized he wasn’t able to get his hands or sword free.

 “It’s fine Gem, it’s not like I’m using my full strength.” Grian answered back and Joel froze in his struggle. Realization crashing down on him that, yeah, this wasn’t even close to the giant’s full strength. It was probably barely even any sort of strength to the giant. And yet, Joel couldn’t free himself, because even when the giant was barely using any of his strength, Joel was nothing against him.

 He deflated, knowing he was trapped. Knowing he was caught once again.

 “Are you done?” Grian asked from above. Joel didn’t dignify him with an answer but he felt the hand around him curl in on him anyway and soon he was being held in a fist and lifted high into the air. He gave a half attempt to try and pull out the arm holding his sword but it was still trapped within the grip.

 Joel tried to look at anything but the giants surrounding him, finally noticing that Skizz also seemed to have gotten caught. Though instead of being held in a fist like him, Skizz was being cradled between two hands by Impulse. The two borrowers shared a look, with Skizz looking sympathetic towards the situation Joel had found himself in. 

 “We really are just trying to help you. And Skizz.” Grian tried but Joel didn’t want to listen.

[a-smol-storm-gt-nomfs-blog]

I would love to see how you'd handle Grian's first time storing one of the mers for Sea Speaker! You keep teasing it and I'm getting so impatient-

(sorry if that sounds rude, I can wait, just figured I'd ask anyways)

nah not rude, also cograts u get a short story :D

So yes nomfs are involved

Grian had been sitting on the beach eyeing the wrasse, Skizz up. The mer had attempted to shove himself down the avian’s throat about what 18 times by now? Just staring at them he swore he could feel the wiggling, a hand came up instinctively at the phantom movements.

After the first couple of attempts, grian lost his appetite for a couple of hours too. It’s possible that stemmed from his throat being sore though.

Shrimp- er wow old habits do die hard hm? But Zedaph turned to him pretty much asking if he was okay with just his expression. Grian stopped the throat rubbing. “I- yeah I’m good, just-.” He looked at Skizz who was oblivious to the whole situation. The shrimp mer nodded in understanding, Skizz had been fighting with him a lot to get in his throat, for reasons unknown to the avian. Grian had been getting tense about being by the wrasse for that situation, not that he noticed it all too much, being around most mers made him tense anyway. Back to the main point though, it was odd, why would anything want to shove itself down his throat? He’d get the wrasse cleaning his teeth, but shoving itself into a throat was a whole different level of weirdness.

I suppose it might not be if he doesn’t know that avians don’t use their crops the same as mer’s. As far as Grian’s seen the mer also almost always gets into Impulse’s, and Tango’s crop’s just on command, or well likely by asking.

Speak of the devil, the other two swam up chatting to each other, the 4 hung out all the time, it was surprising with the range of species. At the same time, it was neat.

“Hi T-mango,” Grian said with a smile.

The Eel mer stared at him in a blank confusion.

Impulse mumbled something, a smile on his face.

Tango turned to him and yelled, his hands on the shark’s cheeks pushing his face.

The larger mer laughed, a big belly laugh.

Skizz was instantly looking at Impulse’s mouth then back at Grian.

Grian shook his head no, not feeling it today.

Skizz shrugged and just slid into Impulse’s mouth, the shark didn’t fight it. Once Skizz was down Zedaph approached Grian doing the uppy arms which the avian picked him up. The shrimp pointed towards his mouth making Grian nervous. “D-do you want to clean?” He asked. Zed shook his head no, at least he was honest, then pointed at his throat.

Grian made a nervous noise his eyes glancing away, though when he did turn back to Zed he was being pretty polite and just waiting. The avian sighed and opened his mouth putting Zed in, then lowering down, his tongue pulling away from the salt water as it went in. The mer pet his tongue, checking out things without actually poking like Skizz did. Eventually, Grian put his mouth deeper, his whole mouth full as he breathed through his nose. The problem came when Zed pressed in on the back of his mouth he swallowed. Grian coughed softly, but without the movements, his body felt the need to swallow. The avian cheeped nervously but swallowed Zedaph towards his crop, the avian panicked, but his body kept working automatically till Zed was in his crop. The avian let out panicked noises, rubbing his hand over his stuffed crop. He could taste the bitter salt water on his tongue, he could also feel it being swished around in his crop.

His hands brushed the shrimp, he felt odd with his shell, a lot harder than fish.

He felt hands, it made his panic rise but he realized they weren’t pushing hard, instead, it felt, felt amazing, he started cooing, his eyes looked dreary and soon he fell back in the sand, his wings and feet twitched.

He could make out the 2 mers staring at him, but his body felt too good to care. Noises slipped out of him, endless happy noise.

[fanficsofthevoid]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62252565/chapters/159260353

Sonder Eclipse

Summary:

The shorter Angler-Snake gave Grian the exact opposite reaction from what he had been expecting. Its face morphed into what he could only describe as a smile, its mouth didn’t move, but its eyes suddenly squinted heavily, scaley wrinkles piling up at the corners. It looked strangely gleeful.

“You are a fighter then, Deathworlder?”

Grian stayed silent.

“You will get plenty a chance to fight here”. The alien said, and its tone mirrored that of a judge finalizing a sentence.

Or:

Grian was never the type to believe in aliens, as far as he was concerned, anything that he couldn't see, touch, taste, or smell toed the line of conspiracy. However, when he is captured and imprisoned on an alien trafficking ship, it gets just a tad harder to keep his unbelief. Faced with a strange new environment, a strange new cellmate, and the threat of a fighting ring hanging over him, Grian devises a plan to escape. If only his cellmate would start cooperating instead of trying and failing to kill him in his sleep.

Chapter 1: Captured

Grian’s consciousness returned in fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror reflecting images he couldn’t quite grasp. Cold seeped into his back, making him shiver, and a faint ache pulsed through his head. He reached up, pressing a hand against his forehead.

Or at least.. he would have, if something hadn’t been keeping his hand down.

With an increasing sense of anxiety, Grians eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, all he saw was the blinding white of the ceiling. Then his vision focused.

He was laying on top of a small metal table in an otherwise empty room, the table was cold, and a slight draft brushed through the room, making the hairs on his arms stand up straight.

Grian tried to move, but his body refused to obey. Panic flared as he realized why—his wrists, chest, legs, and neck, were all bound. Grian immediately pulled against the bonds, but they didn't budge. He wasn’t bound with rope or metal; the material felt rubbery and pliable, flexing slightly as he struggled. Worse yet the table he was on was too small for him and it was causing his legs to dangle awkwardly off the end of the table, adding to his discomfort.

Grian tugged harder, his breathing quickening. The restraints stretched under his effort, but before he could pull free, they snapped back, slamming his wrists into the freezing metal. He winced, biting back a yelp of pain.

Where was he? How had he gotten here? He searched his memory, but it was like trying to grasp smoke. Everything before waking up was a hazy blur. He knew who he was, he knew where he was from, but how he got here? Nothing. Grian squinted at the lights, racking his brain.

Flashes of light.

Floating, and then an overwhelming sense of wrong.

He remembered now.

He had been walking home, when he had suddenly been blinded by light. Completely unable to move, he had been lifted into the air, and then after that… nothing.

Grian renewed his struggle against his restraints. He got the distinct impression that whatever reason for him being here, it wasn't benevolent, and he didn't feel like waiting around just to find out.

Grian stretched the bands further, if he could just get it to loosen up he was sure he could get out of these and then he could-

A sound pierced through the silence of the room, breaking Grian out of his thoughts. Faint at first but growing louder. Footsteps. Grian froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Whoever—or whatever—was approaching, he wasn’t ready to face them.

The footsteps stopped just outside the room. A mechanical hiss filled the air as the door slid open. On impulse Grian shut his eyes, forcing his breathing to steady.

Two, no, three pairs of footsteps entered, their movements heavy and deliberate. Grian could hear the shuffle of their feet and the faint rustle of what sounded like fabric—or maybe something harder, like armor. He kept his eyes closed, straining to listen.

A sharp, grating noise split the air, like nails dragging across a chalkboard. It made Grian’s skin crawl, the sound twisting and changing pitch unpredictably. Grian struggled not to move to try and cover his ears from the awful sound. The grating stopped, replaced by a new voice, a low, guttural warble. The sound resonated through the room, deep and primal, like the bellow of an unseen predator. Grian’s heart pounded, his breath catching in his throat, and unbidden, his muscles tensed, and ever so slightly, he flinched.

The voices fell silent.

They’d noticed.

A faint, clicking noise—almost like the chitter of insects—broke the stillness. One of them moved closer. Grian kept his breathing steady, every muscle in his body screaming at him to run, to fight, to do anything but lie still.

A short click, nails on chalkboard again, then, in perfect English, “Open your eyes, Deathworlder, we know you’re awake”.

The voice was throaty, like a seasoned smoker who hadn’t drank water in years, and Grian cringed in on himself at the unnatural sound. Whatever that thing was should not be speaking like a human.

There’s no use in hiding now.

Grian wrinkled his nose as he opened his eyes, squinting at the bright lights above him. His vision focused on three figures in front of him; the tallest was only about Grians own height at best, but their unnatural appearances completely killed any amusement he could have felt at their height.

To his right, two figures loomed over him. One close to his height and the other, hunched over and about a foot shorter. His gaze was drawn to the tall one first.

It was an awful sight.

It struck him as a humanoid mix of an anglerfish and a snake. The thing was absolutely covered in greenish black scales that trailed over its back and shoulders, moulding to rippling muscle and a pale white underside. The combination of dark green and just about clear white, gave a feeling of illness to the creature that made Grian lean away.

His gaze trailed up towards its face and made eye contact with two pale bulbous eyes that stared straight at him. They had no pupils and there were no eyelids in sight. Then there was its mouth, thousands of sharp, needle-thin teeth, gleamed under sickly pink gums that sagged off its face.

Grian shuddered, resisting the urge to hide his face from that thing.

A glance at the shorter one told him they must be the same species. It was much the same as the first, but its gums were more grey, and it had strange markings on its face, as if the scales there had decided to lose their color.

Lastly, to his left Grian could vaguely see the top of the head of something else standing near the table he was lying on. It wasn’t tall enough for him to see fully without craning his head, and since Grian’s neck was strapped down, there wasn’t much he could do about that. He could tell though that it was shifting back and forth, turning towards the other two creatures before turning to him again, darting around in indecision.

A voice suddenly broke the silence, and Grian suppressed a flinch.

“Cooperate and we won’t sedate you again”, the shorter Angler-Snake thing said, and it was the same throaty voice from before.

“What—what is this? Where am I? What do you want from me?” Grian said, his mouth full of cotton. Then, with false confidence, “Just try and sedate me, I swear you’ll regret it”.

The other two creatures backed away, obviously alarmed, but the shorter Angler-Snake gave Grian the exact opposite reaction from what he had been expecting. Its face morphed into what he could only describe as a smile. Its mouth didn’t move, but its eyes suddenly squinted heavily, scaley wrinkles piling up at the corners. It looked strangely gleeful.

“You are a fighter then, Deathworlder?”.

Grian stayed silent.

“You will get plenty a chance to fight here”. The alien said, and its tone mirrored that of a judge finalizing a sentence.

The Angler-Snakes smile abruptly dropped off its face, and it turned to the other creatures with a glare. With a grating noise from the short Angler-Snake that sounded something akin to a command, the tall one pulled out a long black stick from its belt. They then started to untie Grian, twisting the rubber ropes in some complicated pattern until the ropes suddenly snapped back and receded into the table, leaving the table looking as if the ropes had never been there in the first place.

Grian sprung up immediately, lunging for the larger Angler-Snake, but before he could get within two feet of it, it jabbed Grian with the prongs of the black stick and Grian blinked and he was on the floor.

Rivers of pain flowed through him as the stick shocked him repeatedly, it was all he could do not to pass out right then and there. His body convulsed on the floor and he struggled to breath. When it finally ended, Grian lay there, gasping, he stared up at the alien, not processing anything but the way his muscles kept twitching with aftershocks. Finally getting some air, Grian scrambled to sit up. He felt extremely vulnerable, laying on the floor below the Angler-Snakes.

Grian looked up just in time to see the shorter Angler-Snake cuff the taller over the head, grating out some sort of insult as the taller fiddled with something on its stick. Once satisfied, it then returned its stick to pointing straight at Grians head.

“Get up”, the short Angler-Snake ordered, all traces of interest gone, and Grian did, biting back a hiss at the pain of standing up.

The Angler-Snake with the stick prodded Grian with the butt of it, forcing him towards the door.

As Grian stumbled forwards, the door gave another hissing noise, and opened into a dimly lit hallway. To his right the hallway continued to travel off and out of sight, the lights flickering down into darkness. Grian carefully noted the many doors lining the hall. He then turned to his left and almost screamed.

Three more Angler-Snakes were skulking in the hallway, standing so still that he hadn’t even noticed them.

Pale eyes stared at him unblinking, and Grian felt a shiver go down his spine. He gulped and squared his shoulders, trying to hide his fear, and to his shock, the Angler-Snakes took a step back, looking at each other in alarm.

Unfortunately Grians attempt at intimidation was short lived as he was struck from behind, stumbling forward again as the tall Anger-Snake walked through the door behind Grian. It stayed behind Grian like an abnormal shadow, warbling orders to the other guards as they surrounded Grian, each drawing a black stick from their belt and pointing it straight at him.

Grian couldn’t help it. The panic brewing in his chest was too overwhelming. Working on something instinctual, Grian stood as tall as he could, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he let out an almost primal noise, snarling at the tall Angler-Snake behind him. He felt like a cornered animal.

He felt like he was surrounded by predators.

The group of guards stumbled away at the noise, tripping over themselves to get away from Grian, and he couldn’t help but feel a moment of victory. However, he barely had two seconds to feel smug when he was back on the floor.

While he had been distracted, the short Angler-Snake had come up behind him and struck him with the pronged end of the black stick, sending him back into a convulsing heap on the floor. The short Angler-Snake barked orders at the guards, and they flanked him, and blocked off one end of the tunnel, leaving Grian only one way to go.

“We will drag you there if need be. Do not play games with me Deathworlder”. The short Angler-Snake spat the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth, disgust heavy in its voice.

Flinching at the sticks pointed at him, Grian stumbled to his feet and began to walk down the hallway. Each hallway looked the same, a long corridor filled with cold, lifeless doors, and the more Grian tried to memorize the pathways, the more he forgot them.

Slowly the doors lining the hallway petered off and were replaced by what must have been celldoors. Heavy, metal doors with a porthole at the top of them. Grian tried to peer into a few of them as they walked past, but they were either empty or too dark to see in.

Until one wasn’t.

Grian paused in his step. Unlike the other doors, this door had bars over the porthole, and the room inside seemed a bit bigger. It was dimmer in this cell, but one light was on, flickering like all the rest of them. Sickly yellow light poured down like a dispirited waterfall, illuminating a figure slumped in the corner. Its eyes were open but glazed over; dead, and its neck was definitely broken, bent to a painful ninety degree angle. Streaks of green were smudged on the floor, presumably the aliens' blood. Grian winced as he traced the blood to the other visible corner of the room. The corner was dark, but Grian could just barely see another figure, huge and hulkling in the shadows, a shudder went down his spine unbidden. The figure began to turn into the light and just as Grian was about to glimpse the things face, he walked out of sight of the window.

What was that?

Everything on this ship was Angler-Snake sized, made for a creature that was six foot at the absolute most, but that thing had to be at least nine feet tall. And why was there a dead body in there? Was the body a cellmate? An unfortunate guard? Food??

Grian didn’t have any longer to contemplate the strange cell as the guards took one more turn and stopped outside a heavily reinforced door. The porthole was obviously multi-layered glass, and locks of all kinds dotted the seam between the door and the wall, huge heavy deadbolts, codes, chains and a large bar across the front of it. Whatever was in there was dangerous.

The tall Anger-Snake stepped forward and began to hurriedly undo the locks, glancing behind himself at Grian every few seconds. It was obvious that the alien wanted to get whatever they were about to do over with as fast as possible, and his urgency only caused Grians own anxiety to rise. His eyes darted to and fro across the guards and back to the door that possibly contained the horrors of the universe. Assuming whatever was in there was violent enough, it may cause a ruckus once the guards disturbed it, and that. That had to be Grians chance to get away from the guards.

Grians eyes locked onto a smaller Angler-Snake near the side of the circle of guards. That one was the weak link surely. With the others momentarily distracted, he was fairly certain he could bowl over this small one, and take off down the hall.

He had it all planned, now he just needed the assumed monster to do its part.

Grian glanced back at the door and saw that the tall Angler-Snake was on the last lock now, it was heaving the bar off the door, the other Angler-Snakes were crowding in, here was his chance. The door swung open and Grian braced himself to be assaulted by the sight of the most terrifying, dangerous and violent creature he could imagine. And…

And the cell was empty.

“Wha-”, Grian managed to stutter out, before the Angler-Snakes took his momentary surprise to pounce.

Prodding, and gnashing their teeth, they began to herd him towards the door, brandishing their black sticks. Grian stumbled back, they were trying to keep him in there. Immediately a surge of adrenaline hit.

The Angler-Snakes encroached further into his space causing the small Angler-Snake to be near him now. Grian took the opportunity. He darted to his left before jerking back towards the small Angler-Snake, weaving between guards. The small Angler-Snake gave a jab at him but he dodged, grabbing the black stick near the handle, and ripping it out of the creature's grasp. He didn’t bother to flip the stick around as he let the momentum carry the pronged end of the stick straight into an Angler-Snake behind him. Strange gurgling noises came from the Angler-Snake that he had hit and Grian, stupidly, so so stupidly, glanced behind him.

The momentary distraction was all the Angler-Snakes needed.

The shock came suddenly, one, then two, then all of them. Grian couldn’t think as every guard that had escorted him to the cell shocked him repeatedly, there were sounds akin to yelling but Grian couldn’t figure out if it was the Angler-Snakes or his own screams. In between shocks he was hit by the butt of the stick, and Grian could already feel bruises forming. All he could do was curl into himself and cover his head.

Between flashes of consciousness, Grian felt slimy hands on him, as well as the butts of sticks pushing and shoving him, until finally, it all stopped. He heard the sound of metal meeting metal as the cell door closed, sealing Grian into the cell and sealing his fate.

_______________________________________

A lot of things sucked about being in a cell.

Besides the very obvious fact that he was imprisoned against his will. A fact that he was trying very hard not to think about. The heavily reinforced walls kept almost all sound outside of his cell from reaching him. Or at least he thought it did, he’s not sure if there even had been a sound outside since the Angler-Snakes left him here. Grian curled closer towards his knees. If he weren’t so scared right now he’d be talking to himself. Something to fill the silence. Something to help him feel like he’s less alone.

He shifted onto his side. He was lying on a too small cot that had been shoved to the corner of the room. It was cold, and seemed to suck the warmth out of him like metal. But at least it was softer than the floor. Everything hurt to move, and no matter how he positioned himself, something was poking into one of his many, very fresh bruises.

After the Angler-Snakes had left and Grian had stopped drifting in and out of consciousness, he had dragged himself over to the door, and with the help of the ledge of the porthole, he had pulled himself up and into the light. Ignoring the rush to his head, he slowly looked down at the rest of his body. His arms were polka dotted with bruises, all the splotchy square of the end of the guard's sticks, and there were sluggishly bleeding cuts all along his ribs from where the sticks had hit especially hard and broken skin.

Grian winced as he glanced at his arms again and quickly looked away. If he didn’t take care of those they were going to get infected, but it wasn't like he had antibiotic cream and bandages, and he was pretty sure he was more likely to be beaten again than given supplies if he complained to the guards that passed by every few hours.

That’s another thing about being in a cell. Perception of time? Gone. For all he knew, it could have been only a few hours, or it could have been half a day. Nothing about the lighting changed, and so far nothing about the guards had either. What he should do is start counting. See how long it was between guard shifts, but with every breath he took, his chest expanded and aggravated the cuts on his ribs, and he immediately lost count.

Hours past, or maybe just minutes, he couldn’t really tell. Nothing broke the sterile monotony of his cage, and he found himself becoming more and more unaware of his surroundings.

He remained like that, until he heard a commotion outside his door, breaking him out of his stupor.

For a moment he was so overjoyed at hearing noise again that he didn't even process that the sound was outside his door. But once he did he scooted as far back into the corner as he could, all muscles tensed and ready.

The door was flung open, and the room was suddenly flooded with light. Grian blinked at the doorway. Two silhouettes blocked the light, one obviously the hulking figure of an Angler-Snake, the other smaller and unidentifiable. Without any fanfare, the small one was flung into his cell, along with one word from the Angler-Snake;

“Dinner”.

The door shut, and Grian was once again plunged into semi-darkness.

[nix-writes-mcyt]

I have an idea, what about scar, impulse, or gem with like an s/o who doesn’t like doing the back of their bases (that one grian episode) (it can be a full on fic or hc’s, whichever you wanna do more”

As much as I love Impulse and Scar, my Gem content is not nearly as much, so I chose her (also it's Gem, what more could I say?) P.s requests are open and I am trying to get out at least 1 fic per month so feel free to request!

Finish It Together

Drabble Contains: Fluff -----------------

You sigh as you finish yet another chapter of your book, turning the page slowly. You find yourself looking out of the barn doors, the sun still streaming in.

The animals wander in and out, grazing, looking curiously for any change in their environment. Some even come lie around you now.

You've made a regular habit of reading in the barn, only because you want to read and like animals.. no other reason that you've been avoiding for the last week.

One of the chickens pecks at the corner of the book, reminding you to start reading again. It's not quite as peaceful as you might like it to be in the barn, nor is the bale of hay you sit on particular comfortable. In fact this book isn't even all that exciting, but you'd rather be doing this than try work up the motivation to finish the extension to your house.

You lower your gaze back to your book and start on the next chapter. Somewhere outside you hear a commotion, the sheep remaining in the barn go to poke out their heads, listening in to the other sheep presumably making all the noise. There is drama in the animals home, that you've learnt in your time here.

You know these animals well enough to know no one is hurt, so you don't even make the effort to lift your head from your book. Sure enough the animals quiet down, even the chicken by your side stops trying to eat the book in your hand.

A shadow falls over you, one too tall to be sheep, and all the cows are in the other field. You lift your gaze from the page and see a familiar set of overalls, attached to a familiar GeminiTay.

Her hands are set on her hips, eyebrow raised in question. "You think I wouldn't find you hiding the barn? Rookie mistake." You see the smile hiding behind her stern look, the gleam in her eye telling you she's not entirely serious.

"I'm being productive, looking after the animals and reading. It's called multitasking." You smirk. Gem nearly cracks a full smile, but manages to maintain her composure. She shifts her weight to lean more on one side, crossing her arms.

"I know where else you could multitask, at home." She extends her hand to you, pulling you forward to your feet. "This is much more comfy than home." You say, sarcasm clear in your voice. Gem hums in response.

"Come on, we can finish it today if we get going now. I know you're not really feeling it but once it's done it's done." She encourages. "I know." You sigh. "I did promise you we'd get it done by the end of the week." Gem nods, squeezing your hand.

"All we have to do is finish the painting, then that's it. Come finish it with me?" You nod, Gem finally breaking into that smile that you love so much, the smile that you fell for. "Let's go finish our home."

[hopepetal]

So @applestruda and I, as well as a friend of ours, have been watching Fantasy High together. That made me think. What if some of our sillies played DND?

--

Grian smiled, the kind of smile that always preceded a prank or something equally as dastardly. “You find yourself traversing through the forest, surrounded by trees that stretch–” And he reached up with an arm to show the great height of the forest– “right up to the sky, it seems. There's a muggy, sort of humid air, and you can hear that the birds are calling for potential mates in the distance.”

Impulse nudged Jimmy with a grin. “Hey, lover bird, sounds like your kind of crowd.”

Jimmy flushed a bright pink, spluttering out, “No, what the– oh my gosh, Impulse, that's so rude!” to laughter from around the table.

Even Grian had to hide a chuckle, before going back to describing the scene. “And you see, as you're trekking through this jungle– Pearl in front, slashing through the vines and smaller underbrush with her sword– you find that the underbrush suddenly stops, and there is a huge lake of what seems to be quicksand blocking the path.”

“Can I jump over it?” Pearl asked immediately, to which Grian, after a moment of consideration, shrugged.

“It's worth trying,” he answered, “give me an acrobatics roll.”

Pearl took up one of her starry blue die and rolled it, peering at the number when it stopped moving. “14– 18, with acrobatics.”

Grian thought for a moment, before shrugging and nodding his head. “...yeah, that works. You, take a few steps back, get a running start, and you jump over that quicksand like its nothing. It's– definitely not nothing, you probably just broke a human world record for long jump with half the effort, but hey, that's the fun of not being human!”

“I feel targeted,” Impulse joked, earning a round of giggles.

“Right, then. That's Pearl's turn.” Grian turned to Jimmy. “Do you wanna try doing the same thing, or are you gonna look for another way...?”

Jimmy grabbed his die, shaking it eagerly in his hands. “Oh, we're jumping this thing, baby.” He released the die, glanced at the number, and let out a horrified exclamation. “Nat one! That's– no, oh no, that's not–!”

Grian already had an evil grin on his face. “So, you go to jump over this huge thing of quicksand– and it's huge, man, you don't even know why you're doing this– and you land right in the middle of it, flat on your face, and begin to sink.”

Jimmy groaned, burying his head in his hands as the table laughed. “Oh, this is awful, this is awful...”

Tango fumbled with his die. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, can I– can I roll to help him, or something?”

Grian snickered. “Go ahead.”

Tango rolled, and screeched. “Oh no! I got a nat one! Ohhh, no!”

The whole table started dying from laughter, Scar almost falling out of his chair, startling Jellie in the process. Tilly barked once, her tail wagging as she panted heavily.

Grian wiped tears from his eyes. “Ohhh, boy. Oh man.” He giggled, his wings shaking as he tried to calm himself. “Right. So, you see Jimmy sinking face first into the quicksand, and you quickly jump out to help him– falling straight into the quicksand yourself, almost landing on Jimmy in the process.”

Tango pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his knees as he wailed. “Oh, nooo! I'm so sorry, Jimmy!”

[solargeist]

(So that void drawing, huh. I saw it and immediately went ‘I must write a thing’ so here!)

Grian took a breath and took Mumbo’s hand. The hole in the rocket ship by no means beckoned, but… something else definitely called. Or maybe it was just his mind supplying that it was the one way to escape the moon. He could hear Scar, Pearl, Mumbo, and Impulse talking and joking. They were all handling the certain destruction of their world surprisingly well, especially Pearl.

But he kept staring at the hole in the rocket, until Scar was clapping his hands and saying it was time to go. He looked up as Pearl took his other hand. Scar was on Mumbo’s other side, one foot already over the void. Impulse was at the end of them. Everyone looked so rigid. A faint voice at the back of his mind pointed out that they’d never lived in the void, and they didn’t know he ever did. So he squared his shoulders a bit to match.

And then the ship started rumbling as the moon started to tear it apart.

“Alright! Let’s go!” He heard Scar say, and then he was being pulled down. And down. And down. Seeing the walls of the Boatem pole fly past him, memories etched into each one. And up above he could see the looming moon. The void was slowly reaching, and grasping for him. And now he was certain it was something within it whispering.

Their descent slowed as they went past bedrock, the space suits fighting the complete lack of pressure or oxygen.

At some point he could no longer see the bedrock, or the Boatem hole. And a while after that they were floating. Everyone was dozing off, even Pearl who was trying to fight it with all her might. He had the faintest feeling that maybe she’d seen this before and he just hadn’t been looking. But nonetheless sleep claimed the rest of Boatem. The tethers of the spacesuits still, thankfully, keeping them together.

He was tempted to try and fly ahead and see if he could find their final destination, get them there early. But whatever voice was down there with them kept him firmly at his friend’s sides.

There weren’t all that many things that would be living in the void itself, not without islands floating just above its constant stretching. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d see Aether down here. Probably not, the void was huge after all.

But he couldn’t feel eyes. And the whispers were sounding less like they were actual words, instead being rustling. Feathers maybe.

For some strange reason, with no clue what possessed him to do this, he looked back over his shoulder.

He felt his heart drop, his body frozen as he tried to take in the sight.

Something massive, with eyes that should not be there and feathers that didn’t quite fit, and a beak that was twisting. He could feel the eyes staring through him. Through his friends. As if they were all something it had seen before, were of no note. Or maybe they were looking at nothing and this was a long dead corpse, preserved by the void. He held that thought for moment, feeling slightly put at ease.

And then all their eyes flicked towards him. And it clicked, they were a Watcher. And they were very, very incredibly old with not a human characteristic in sight. No longer the player they once were.

It felt like time itself sped up as he clutched onto Mumbo’s arm, hoping that they would turn their gaze past them. That he would no longer have to be confronted with the future he could have had, or well… maybe still could. But their eyes stayed trained on him, so he instead stayed on Mumbo’s arm and tried to convince sleep to take him as well.

inbox fic !!

someone let this poor boy sleep so he doesn't have to confront the horrors

[chipperchemical]

Impulse/Skizz/Grian for 9+16 with Gem watching! (They just beat Pico Park)

Grian/Impulse/Skizz - a joyful kiss, a kiss while someone else watches

word count: 351

A/N: i usually do the requests in chronological order, but i bumped this one to the top so that it wouldn't be super outdated by the time i got to it in the list :)

prompt list is here!

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

One more jump and-

"We're done!" Grian cheered, stumbling over himself in the hyper excitement, "Oh my god, we're done!!" He exploded into cackling laughter, leaning over to clutch his stomach and keep his balance.

"We did it!" Skizz screamed back, pumping his fists in the air and also laughing, much more triumphant than Grian's exhaustion, "We're done! Finally!"

Without another warning, Skizz tackled Grian into a bear hug, picking him up and spinning him around as they both lost their minds with laughter. Amidst the chaos, Skizz pulled Grian in and pressed an almost desperate kiss to him, so lost in the excitement that he could hardly contain it. Grian met him back with his exact energy, kissing him back so intensely that Skizz stumbled to get his footing stable.

"We never have to look at this game again..!" Impulse exclaimed, finally making himself known with his exasperated voice, "It's over..."

"It's over!!!" Grian screamed, cackling again and jumping out of Skizz's arms. Instead, he clambered over to Impulse, wrapping clumsy arms around him and kissing him as well, much less intense than he was with Skizz but still with the build-up of six hours' worth of relief behind it. Impulse tilted his head to kiss Grian back, wrapping his arms around his waist and melting into it from his exhaustion.

The moment he pulled away, Impulse looked up to be greeted by Skizz's excited smile. Skizz leant down to Impulse, pressing an intense, passionate kiss on his lips as he was still entangled with Grian. Impulse could feel the massive grin against his face and smiled back, eventually breaking off to chuckle and close his eyes.

"Weirdos."

All three looked over at the same time to meet eyes with Gem, standing there with arms crossed and a playful smug smile. Impulse looked away in embarrassment which wasn't helped by Grian and Skizz just waving at her.

"You love us, Gemmy!" Skizz grinned.

"Not as much as you love each other."

[transfemzedaph]

grimpulse s7 cuteness maybe??? also he/she grian. bc i can

-

"Afternoon Grian."

Grian startles, almost falling from his chair.

"Sorry love."

She turns to face him, "It's alright, just didn't hear you come in."

"What you working on?" Impulse asks, as he squishes himself into the chair next to Grian, thighs pressed together, both of them half falling off the chair.

Grian wraps his arm around Impulses waist,

"Resistance plans."

"Ah yes, the great Mycelium Resistance. What exactly you planning for now?"

She shrugs, "Just some vauge ideas, not sure what Scar's gonna do next, so no solid plans yet."

"Fair enough, want us to try and get more intel from them?"

"Nah, it'll be fun to just go with whatever he throws at us next."

Impulse smiles and leans against Grian.

"It's nice that you're letting loose a bit again,"

Grian hums a bit, leaning his head on Impulses shoulder as Impulse continues,

"just like the hippies."

Grian scoffs slightly, "Bit more organised than that, and marginally less drugs."

"Guess you need drugs to be able to let loose huh? First weed, now mushrooms." Impulses voice is light and teasing as he speaks.

Grian just rolls her eyes and shoves him off the chair.

Impulse almost laughs when he lands, but instead gasps dramatically, "Mother Spore how dare you. I am your Head of Diversionary Tactics you can't do this to me."

"Well, actually. I can. I am the one in charge y'know."

Impulse sits himself half up, leaning on his elbows,

"Yes Ma'am, whatever you say."

Grian pouts a little, and then yelps as Impulse pulls him off the chair. She lands with an oof on top of him.

Grian takes a moment to adjust to, and then,

"You do realise what you've done here right?"

"Yup. Bad desicion."

"Mhm."

Grian presses a kiss to Impulses nose before he gets herself comfy ontop of Impulse, cuddling into him.

Silence.

Another moment of silence.

"We should get up y'know?" Impulse makes no move to get up even as he speaks, one hand rested on Grians lower back, the other gently playing with the hair at the base of his neck.

"Mmm nope. I'm comfy."

"I'm not though love, as nice as your floors look, they are not fun to be laying on."

[babysizedfics]

Gem's Baby Hair Salon

Summary:

Little Gem gets bored and convinces her big-brother-slash-babysitter Etho to play hairdresser with her. She didn’t realise he liked hair strokes so much he would regress younger than her; but she’s definitely not complaining if she gets to be the protective big sister to a baby Etho, finally!

Word count: 2.5k

Also on AO3!

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Gem sighed dramatically.

“Don’t cry yet, Gem, we’re not even near the end,“ Etho teased.

He was referring to the movie they were currently watching—in torturous silence.

They’d been left to their own devices at Impulse’s base while he and Skizz got some chores done before dinnertime. Being a family weekend, Gem had been indulging in her littlespace all day, though Etho hadn’t been so ready to give in. His loss.

Stuck on babysitting duty, he’d put on a kid’s film—Luca—thinking it would keep Gem entertained. He wasn’t the most observant babysitter, Gem realised.

She had started getting antsy and bored halfway through, not used to being so still. And she was pretty sure she’d lasted at least five minutes since that feeling started, so she thought she was being very mature actually! Happy with her attempt, she swung her feet down from Etho’s lap and stood up. Approaching the toy chest she shared with Grian (and Etho really, though he was adamant he didn’t use the toys), she rifled through the contents and—after an internal deliberation—took out a sparkly Barbie hairbrush. She turned back brandishing the mere 1-inch toy between two fingers to see her brother smiling fondly.

“You wanna play, Gemmy?“ Etho asked in a cutesy voice.

He had no idea what was coming, she thought impishly.

Gem flopped back on the couch, shoulder to shoulder with Etho, and gave him the best puppy dog eyes of her life.

Familiar with her brand of little chaos, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What? What do you want from me?“ his voice was appropriately sceptical.

Gem’s lips pulled into a mischievous smile. “Well—“

“No, I’m not being the Ken in your Barbie game again… you make them make out too much for it to not be weird,“ Etho said carefully, a twist of disgust in his tone.

“Nooo, I didn’t want to play with the Barbies,“ Gem said, dropping her chin to his shoulder and intensifying the puppy dog act with a convincing pout. “Can we play hairdresser?“ She immediately grabbed his arm as Etho started pulling away. “Please? I promise I won’t give you the Impulse Special—“ tiny pigtails, glittery butterfly clips, satin bows, the whole shebang “—just a brush and braids.“

Etho gave her a withering look.

“Just a brush, no braids?“ she bargained with a charming toothy grin.

The softening of his glare was enough confirmation for her; he had just unwittingly booked an appointment at the best hair salon on the server! With a squeak of joy, she clambered to sit atop the back of the couch before he could change his mind. Legs framing his torso, she eagerly pulled his shoulders back so she could reach his head.

“Thank you, big brother,“ she sang, surveying his tousled hair.

“Just be gentle…“ he warned.

When she tried to part it down the middle some strands knotted together instantly. At her persistent tug, Etho sucked a pained breath through his teeth.

“Sorry, sorry!“ Gem hurried to apologise, dropping the white strands to inspect the job first. “It’s just really messy back here.“

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I combed it…“ he mumbled, tensing his shoulders.

No kidding! It was pretty hard for short, straight hair to get tangled (she would know as a professional play hairdresser), but it was clear Etho had neglected his hair for a while. This was a job the Barbie brush wasn’t up to.

“Hold on, lemme go get something.“ Gem clumsily shuffled down from her perch and skipped toward the hallway.

“No pretty stuff, Gem!“ his yell followed her.

Gem rolled her eyes at Etho’s paranoia and drawled back, “No, Mr Fragile Masculinity, I wouldn’t dream of it; just getting a real brush.“

She stuck to her promise mostly, only choosing to grab the detangling spray last minute.

Etho predictably locked eyes on the pink bottle instantly upon her return. “What’s that?“

“It makes your hair wet to help comb it,“ she explained coolly, putting her hands on her hips as she learnt from Pearl. Then added a fib for good measure: “It’s just water. Now are you gonna let me brush your dumb hair or are you gonna be a baby about it?“

That shut him up nicely. He shuffled further back into the couch cushions and landed his gaze back on the TV.

“Fine,“ he grumbled, pretending to have a sudden interest in the film. Though he was unable to resist adding, “It’s not dumb, it’s cool…“

Cleverly choosing not to comment on the peek of a blush above his mask, Gem resituated herself behind him.

“And this is meant to be a fun game, Etho. At least try to pretend you’re not you.“ The resulting elbow shoving into her shin was more painful than she let on. “Excuse me, sir! We don’t take this kind of abuse at our establishment!“

There was a light chuckle from her customer. “Okay, okay—since you’re being such a professional about it,“ Etho conceded. “I apologise for my behaviour, Miss.“

“Finally, some respect around here! Now sit still.“

“I am.“

“Nu-uh, you got the wiggles,“ Gem pointed out. He always got them when he was anxious. The aforementioned wiggles stopped.

With a nod to herself, she got to work on spritzing Etho’s hair generously.

“Gem!“ Etho whined after just a few seconds.

“What now?“ Gem squeaked in offense, throwing her hands up dramatically.

“You said it was water, why does it smell like product?“

Gem giggled despite herself. “Well, technically all hair products are mainly water. It’s just water with a bunch of other stuff in it, probably. And it’s strawberry-scented!“

Trust Etho the all-natural-food-freak to have an issue with that. As he complained about fake smelling strawberry products, she paid him no mind and split some strands with her fingers. (Apart from when he complained about her strawberry toothpaste—that was personal and warranted a short argument.) It was much easier to coax the knots apart now, but she had to concentrate so as not to hurt him. She thoroughly prided herself on how gentle she was when taking care of people’s hair!

After a minute or two of careful work, she got pulled out of her focus when Etho made a soft hum.

“All good?“ she checked, ceasing her movements.

“Oh, um, yeah.“ Etho readjusted himself to sit straight—only then did Gem notice he had been slowly relaxing down in his seat.

“Nice and relaxed there?“ she giggled, stroking her fingernails across his scalp as a tease.

Etho actually sighed, instantly sinking back into the cushions again. “Mhm.“

With a fond shake of her head, Gem continued her work. A smile stayed on her face with the knowledge her brother was actually enjoying one of her games for once. Even if he was pretty passive in the play part of it.

Happy that knots weren’t going to be an issue anymore, she picked up the brush.

“And now for the main part of your treatment today, Sir,“ Gem announced very seriously, gently guiding his head to tilt to the right. He was completely pliable to it.

As soon as the plastic bristles stroked across his scalp, Gem actually felt a shiver coast through Etho’s body. As if the high pitched whine he muffled wasn’t enough.

“Oh my gosh, Etho!“ She couldn’t help the surprised laugh.

“What?“ he bit back—too hasty, too defensive, too squeaky.

“Nothing, nothing…“ she giggled. A lot of people had a tingly reaction to people touching their hair, Gem just didn’t think Etho would be one of them. Especially not such a reactive one at that.

“You just try and enjoy your spa treatment, okay? I know it’ll be hard for such a tough guy like you,“ she teased with another gentle pull of the brush through his damp hair.

“Feels nice…“ Etho admitted after a couple more brushes. And was it just the relaxation, or did his voice become just a bit small?

Gem’s smirk turned soft on her. She brought her free hand up to adjust his head position, and left it there for support when she noticed how ragdoll it had become.

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?“

Idly, while still brushing with her other hand, Gem softly trailed two fingers behind and around Etho’s ear then back again.

The man shuffled, pulling his legs up onto the couch and hugging his knees to his chest. A clear tell. Then his head lolled to the side, dropping on her knee. The wetness of his hair made an instant cold, damp patch on her overalls.

“Nu-uh, I can’t work like this!“ she scolded gently. At his little groan, she eased his head back up with her hand. “C’mon, cutie, you can do it,“ she encouraged in a light, bubbly voice.

“Gem…“ Etho whined, immediately shrinking into himself in embarrassment.

“What?“ she challenged with a distinct scribble of her fingernail on his scalp. Was that a whimper? She was far too smug for her own good; what excellent ammunition this would be in future!

“You’re bein’... big,“ he argued weakly.

“You’re being little. If you’re gonna go baby on me I have to use my babysitting voice. Them's the rules,“ Gem reasoned with a shrug he couldn’t see. The brushing went on.

“I’m not…“ Etho belatedly mumbled into his knees. There was no way he could believe himself with how small his voice was.

“Sure you’re not,“ Gem humoured gently.

The rest of his treatment went by peacefully. In all honesty, it only had to take five minutes to get Etho’s hair smooth and totally knot-free. But Gem gave him what she now deemed to be the Etho Special; very slow and gentle brushing, with an extra ten minutes of tiny strokes with the Barbie brush along his hairline. That’s where most of his reactions came from, she learned.

The result of those reactions being she was now stuck with a baby in denial snuggling her leg like it was a stuffie. She allowed it until the end of the movie (wiping her couple of tears away in secret), then wiggled her foot a little against Etho’s hold when the credits rolled.

“Alright, lemme down you big softie.“ He did release her leg—albeit with a whine under his breath—and she easily slid back down to the seat beside him. “Your hair is super pretty now,“ she promised, opening her arms to invite him for a cuddle.

Etho was never one to turn down a cuddle, instantly scooching hip-to-hip with her and hugging her torso without a word. In his apparent shyness, he ducked his head down and hid his face against her shoulder. She giggled at his intense snuggliness and let her arms wrap around him protectively. With an overwhelm of adoration, she placed a kiss on his still-damp head. She got a whiff of the strawberry spray.

“Mm, and it smells pretty too! Happy with it?“

His hair tickled her neck a bit when he nodded. “Thank you,“ he said, and his voice was oh-so very tiny and light, a pitch higher than usual.

“Aww,“ Gem couldn’t stop herself from squealing slightly. “You’re so welcome, baby brother!“

Etho squeezed her tighter, likely to cope with being called a baby. Similar to squishing a stress toy. She decided she was fine being his stress toy if it meant she got to be the big sister again!

“Thank you for playing with me,“ Gem said earnestly, voice gentle to match Etho’s subdued state. “I really love it when you join in my games.“

“I know.“ Etho scrunched his fist in Gem’s baggy jumper. Then he added quietly: “Me too…“

There was no negotiation needed for them both to settle into the cuddle—just a quick selection of another Disney movie by Gem, this time Winnie-the-Pooh to match Etho’s younger headspace.

Likewise, there was no talking needed to fill the calm silence, no plans for more games, no need to call in Skizz or Impulse. Gem was perfectly capable of taking care of her ‘big brother’ all alone. Especially going by how easily she had him dropping off to sleep.

All it took was her hand back in his hair and before long Etho’s knees had slumped from his chest to Gem’s lap. Once she noticed his breathing had slowed and deepened considerably, Gem felt a swelling sense of pride in her chest. The rumours were true, she was powerful! Even in this small way.

Even if Etho might not have been able to feel it anymore, she found herself not wanting to stop the gentle caresses of his scalp. His hair was considerably softer now and satisfying to run her fingers through. Plus, the fact her touch alone had encouraged Etho into his rare babyspace pleased her and she honestly wanted it to last longer.

She was aware Etho probably needed to be this little far more often than he allowed himself, and took it upon herself to push him there whenever she could. It was pretty easy for the most part, but her usual tactics didn’t work every single time. She reckoned because he was such a stubborn worry-wart! Even then, when he did sink anywhere near the vicinity of Baby—as much as he would deny that fact after—it was usually Skizz or Impulse who swooped in and snatched her brother from her grasp. Gem always wanted to take care of him when he was so small, especially when she herself was little, but their caregivers acted like she was irresponsible or too hyper or something! Not like she could easily and happily come out of her littlespace to be in babysitting mode, especially for her beloved brother.

Now that she had baby Etho all to herself, dropping off as she cradled him in her arms, a deep sense of calm washed over her. She even felt her eyes get heavier by the minute, lulled into sleepiness by his breaths like the ocean tide. Inevitable as it was, her fingers slowed and stopped stroking with her tiredness. Her eyes fell shut heavily. She gently rested her head atop his, feeling him stir just a little.

“Shh, go back to sleep, baby,“ she hushed him with a comforting squeeze.

He snuggled further into her hold with a little noise in his throat.

“Big sister’s got you,“ she whispered, faintly hoping he wouldn’t argue. It was only met with a content sigh. She smiled in tired triumph, body going limp.

Etho’s chest rose as hers sank, and vice versa; their breath falling into a gentle tandem.

“I got you,“ Gem repeated, slurring with sleep.

Etho’s responding squeeze was the last thing she remembered before they both fell into a serene slumber.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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