#and the things he repeats to grian over and over and

[wren-kitchens]

paint me in trust

2193 words

there are endless problems that etho could have foreseen if he had been told that the new game would be to link two people's souls with each other. just the premise of that sounds terrifying—what if something broke, and suddenly your souls are just- untethered from your bodies. etho doesn't know a whole lot about how souls work, but that does not sound very enjoyable. he’s still not sure how they’re meant to unlink after this whole song and dance is over, and for his own sanity, he’s decided to assume that grian has it all handled. although- etho doesn’t actually know if grian's own soul has been mixed with mumbo's this whole time. maybe he shouldn't think too hard about that.

and it only took me 5 months to write a part 2! here's part 1 :]

it's not necessarily chapters that follow immediately after one another, but these are all in the same universe, in order. I liked the idea of a slow burn esque kind of friendship between them and chapters felt like the easiest way to do it!

the sillies ever

there are endless problems that etho could have foreseen if he had been told that the new game would be to link two people's souls with each other. just the premise of that sounds terrifying—what if something broke, and suddenly your souls are just- untethered from your bodies. etho doesn't know a whole lot about how souls work, but that does not sound very enjoyable. he’s still not sure how they’re meant to unlink after this whole song and dance is over, and for his own sanity, he’s decided to assume that grian has it all handled. although- etho doesn’t actually know if grian's own soul has been mixed with mumbo's this whole time. maybe he shouldn't think too hard about that.

on top all of this existential threat, etho is quickly learning that, when you hang out with someone who you don’t really know all too well for a little while, you run out of things to say alarmingly soon. there are only so many small talk social scripts that don't sound rude when repeated more than once. after all, if you asked someone where they were from three times, you’d either look like you weren't paying attention, or very desperate. etho thinks he’s probably reached the very desperate stage. 

it's not like he doesn’t want to talk to joel, it's just- how do you keep up conversations when neither of you have anything much to say? there's so much left unsaid in the awkward remarks about the weather and laughter at jokes that finishes too soon, but there's nothing else either of them have to contribute. which is- an enormously dull problem to have in the face of soulmates and unbreakable bonds: they've run out of things to say. etho thinks he'd rather have to worry about his soul exploding, or something.

joel, it seems, has also noticed the predicament they’re both in, because his contributions to their failing conversations are a lot more out of pocket than etho ever expects. which, to be entirely honest, ends up creating far more entertaining conversations than etho's failed attempts at civility ever have. 

"okay- well, I have to ask," 

etho looks down at joel, where he's sat against the bed, on the floor. for the past half hour, he’s been idly carving what might be a wolf into the floorboards of the ship with what might be a completely different chisel than the last four etho has seen him using since joel made the ship last week. 

"go on." etho says, a little amused.

something shifts in joel's expression, and etho wonders if he was nervous to bring this up. "where'd you get the scar?"

etho hesitates, and joel visibly considers whether he should have said it or not. "it's not- I kinda-" he tilts his head to the side, as if that could kick his brain into gear and come up with a better lie than his last one. quite frankly, he has no idea why he thought scott would believe that he fought technoblade. "it's a long story." he settles on. 

joel nods. "well, I just- I was thinking we could swap stories." he shrugs, and etho gets the impression that he’s trying to disguise how much he liked the idea. "I- y’know, I have a few scars of my own. but- I don’t wanna, like- encroach." 

"it's not- you’re not encroaching." etho can’t help but smile, against his own fruition. stupid joel. "what stories do you have?"

something lights up in joel's face, and etho feels a kind of softness in his chest. not that- it's unrelated. it's probably joel's actually- which might not be much better. whatever. it's not important. "you- I mean, they're not all that interesting, but-" he pulls up his sleeve to display what looks like a wolf bite. "that's from geraldine- y’know, my dog in 3rd life. I think she got confused, right at the end. it was just before I died."

etho leans forward to have a better look, and joel moves to sit next to etho on the bed, crossing his legs. the impulse to rest his head on joel's shoulder sticks itself in the back of etho's mind, and he very purposefully looks closer at the bite.

"it's nice." joel is saying, entirely unaware. "'s like I have a part of her with me still, y’know?"

"yeah." etho nods. "I never really thought about that- you’d lose your dogs each season."

still looking at the bite, joel hums. "I try not to think about it too hard." he grins up at etho with a lot more nonchalance than etho would expect after a sentence like that. "might go insane again." he snorts a laugh, and etho is suddenly reminded of his final moments in last life. "anyway, it's your turn."

"oh- right." etho pauses, trying to recall a scar he has that isn't followed by a very dull story. "I- well, I guess I have the one you gave me." he says, and joel cackles. 

"i’d forgotten about that." he says, watching with interest as etho pulls his clothes up enough to display the scar. "oh- wow, I did a number on you, huh? sorry about that." he adds, a little sheepish.

etho grins. "there's no hard feelings. honestly- i’m still pretty impressed." he says, dropping his clothes again. "you got cleo and me in- what, maybe thirty seconds?"

joel gives a huff of laughter, glancing at his lap, and it occurs to etho that he’s embarrassed. wow, he didn’t even know that was a thing joel could be. "yeah- well, I didn’t really- yeah." he clears his throat, and there's something familiar about it that etho can't quite place. "i didn’t expect to- to win that." he grins awkwardly.

and- alright, maybe it's a little mean, but- etho doesn’t really know joel all too well. he’s just getting to know how he works! .. by intentionally trying to embarrass him. okay- in his defence, etho was fairly certain joel was impossible to embarrass, so- he’s doing science. yeah- sure, that's what he’s gonna go with. science. 

"it was very cool." etho says, as nonchalant as he can. helpfully, he does actually mean what he's saying—even if it did end up with him dead, it was pretty impressive (if terrifying) to watch. "honestly, with you as my soulmate, we're absolutely gonna win."

much to etho's delight, joel is blushing, which- he's happy because is funny. it's funny and not- there's no other reason, okay. it's just funny. "I- you- thank you. I wouldn’t-" he meets etho's eyes, and immediately frowns. "you’re doing this on purpose, aren't you?" 

"I- no, I-" even before he’s started a full sentence, etho knows he’s not gonna convince anyone. joel raises an eyebrow at him, and he immediately caves. "it- okay, I- maybe a little, but-"

joel gives an exaggerated scoff, and etho almost laughs. "I can't believe you would do such a thing, etho." he says, far more dramatically than the situation would require, but he seems to be enjoying the drama. "actually though- why?"

it's etho's turn to blush now, and joel's eyes light up with mischievous laughter the second he sees it. "it- there's not- it's unimportant. very unimportant, actually- it's just boring."

"go on." joel grins, teeth sharp. it suits him. 

etho shoots joel a glare, but he can’t pretend to be upset in the face of joel's laughter for long. "okay, I just- you’ve never been embarrassed. that- that I could see, so I kinda- I was curious. about- y’know. how far I could push it."

there's a muted kind of warmth in the centre of etho's chest, which has to be coming from joel. the man in question just smirks. "okay, well- now you have to tell me about your eye. since you were so horrible to me."

etho hesitates. "I- okay, it's not-"

"i'll tell you about this." joel says suddenly. etho looks up, and joel pulls his shirt to the side, revealing burn scarring across all the visible skin on his shoulder. "y’know- it's a trade."

"okay- for that, you get the truth." etho pulls his mask down, not really thinking about it. joel looks a little taken aback, and it occurs to etho that joel has never seen his face before. maybe it should feel more uncomfortable, but it doesn’t. "so- I never tell anyone how I actually got it, except like- cleo and bdubs."

joel blinks, and the warm thing in etho's chest grows a little. "I- wow, i’m up there with cleo?" 

"you- well, you’re my soulmate, right?" etho says without thinking. before he or joel has time to dwell on whatever that means, he says hurriedly, "it- everyone always assumes it's some huge traumatic thing, or like- a cool fight, or whatever, but. I- yeah, I literally just tripped. I was- I managed to land directly on the corner of my furnace." he gives a huff of a laugh. 

"that- you're such a nerd, etho." joel smirks, still looking somewhat stunned. he looks pleased too though, so maybe it's a good thing. "you- and no one else knows?" 

"well," etho pulls his mask back up. "now one more person knows." he finds himself smiling at the thought.

"okay, well- hang on." joel pulls his shirt over his head, revealing far more scarring than etho expected to see. the long sleeves of joel's shirt were the only things hiding it. "i’ve got them on my legs too, but i’m not taking my trousers off." he grins. 

"I- how did you get all that?" etho leans closer, pushing his hair out of his eyes to see better. 

"you remember when cleo set my house on fire in 3rd life?" joel says, looking far happier about this story than etho thinks he ought to be. or- maybe he’s just happy to tell the story to someone. etho decides not to think too hard about it. "well, I also set on fire." he grins. "they're also from that game tango made for those diamond boots."

etho winces sympathetically. "does- does it still hurt?" he asks, surprising himself with how nervous he is. 

joel hums, running a hand over the puckered skin absentmindedly. "not really. I mean, you should know." he looks up, grinning. "soulmate and everything. it's just- it aches a little when I respawn, but.. not much." 

before etho has time to think about what he’s asking, he reaches out a hand on instinct and glances at joel. "I- can I?"

"oh- yeah. yeah, I don't- I don’t mind." joel blinks, apparently surprised. etho is hit with a wave of embarrassment, but- well, it'd be a bit awkward to back out now, wouldn’t it?

the skin is surprisingly soft underneath etho's fingers, despite how textured it is from the scarring. it's interesting- etho has accumulated several scars over the years, but he’s never seen something so large as joel's. it's kind of cool. 

joel gives a huff of a laugh, and etho looks up to see him grinning. "didn’t think it'd be that interesting." 

etho shrugs, suddenly embarrassed but not wanting to back down. "it's pretty interesting." he says, and he can’t help smiling a little as he sits back again. "like- battle scars, or something. it's a cooler story than mine." he gestures at his eye and joel cackles. 

"you said I got the 'truth'," joel says, pulling his shirt back on. "does that mean you’ve been lying to people about what happened?" 

"I- well. a little?" etho says, awkward all of a sudden, and joel grins at it. "it- I just- it's not a good story, and I kinda- it adds to the mystery if no one knows."

joel nudges him, apparently entertained—or something similar, at least. "what have you told people?"

etho glances at the wall. "I- well, I told scar I fought herobrine-" he’s very rudely interrupted by joel's laughter, apparently overjoyed to learn this about his soulmate. "it- he believed it! that's not- I can’t be blamed if he believed that."

"I did think you were mysterious at one point." joel grins, and there's a kind of comfortable amusement in his expression. it's nice. 

"what- you don’t anymore?" etho pouts, and joel cackles at it. he can’t help feeling proud of how good he is at making joel laugh. 

"not now- you told scar you fought herobrine." joel says, and etho huffs a laugh. "you’re just- you’re a dork, etho."

etho pretends to be offended, and joel cackles at all the right moments, and frankly, etho's mask is the only thing preventing him from looking even more like a dork (in joel's words- he’s not a dork, for the record) as he can’t stop himself grinning along. it's weird, but etho keeps ending up being thankful for joel's bluntness or his loudness or his ability to take up so much space in conversation when it comes to these sorts of moments- all of which he used to find annoying last season. maybe it's the soulbound being weird. 

maybe he just likes the way the ship fills with laughter whenever they talk. 

[quaranmine]

all this did was remind me how very mentally ill i've been about fw!scar since the very beginning

gonna embark on a re-read of IDL but specifically a scar-centric reading where i take notes on everything he says and does

[a-sociopath-do-your-research]

Grian had done all the right things, pulled all the right strings.

One goal in mind.

Bring them back.

The watchers, the Gods already disliked him.

This would mean nothing, it's his server, his rules!

It took a bit of fiddling.

Cleo had the power, and Cleo did not like him, but Gem did! And she let him talk to Mumbo and Skizz.

They looked rotten. It hurt.

But it's ok. They were back. It was them.

« I loved you guys so much I concocted this whole scheme just to have you back! »

He said that with the biggest smile he could manage.

They were back. They were his again.

He couldn't let them go.

He had them for five minutes.

Five minutes he could look at their faces again.

Five minutes they smiled at him again.

Five minutes they were his, for no one to take away.

It hurt when the time was up. When they died- when he killed them (again. Because it had been all his fault. It had always been his fault. They'd said so themselves. The tower he built for them had only brought them despair.)

It hurt when they had to go back to their master.

Minions, they'd become.

It was the best he could do for them.

« Cleo said I could be your zombie again! »

When Mumbo said that, Grian was ecstatic.

He didn't believe it- not really. He knew better than to think Cleo would let him have Mumbo back.

But Mumbo wouldn't lie to him, would he?

He got to hold his face again.

Mangled. Dirty.

But his mustache was still there. His blue eyes were there, glassy and pale but Mumbo's.

They were the last thing he saw, as he sank into the river, a wound caused by Mumbo's axe in his back.

He heard a faint « I lied, I'm sorry! »

But it didn't matter.

« That traitor…! »

Grian had done all the right things, pulled all the right strings.

With only one goal in mind.

And they'd betrayed him. Turned their backs on him.

But they'd forgotten something.

He was the one who held the strings.

He was the one who brought them back, the one who could send them away again.

Messages flooded the chat.

Many, many messages- achievements, deaths…

One repeated over and over

[Mumbo was slain by Grian]

[Mumbo was slain by Grian]

[Mumbo was slain by Grian]

Sometimes with little differences.

[Mumbo was shot by Grian]

He didn't know what was happening to his mind.

« I WILL SLAUGHTER EVERY ONE OF YOU! »

The ringmaster had snapped.

The ringmaster was gone.

« End of the session for you. »

Purple hues floated around his arrow as it sank into the other's chest.

The feathers, his feathers were the last thing Mumbo saw.

Once a bright red, now taken over by a deep purple.

[oppopotamus]

..!!!!! i saw sukuna req hehe.. i am here to request my beloved..! can i req top sukuna w ftm bottom male reader(๑>_<๑)

primal dom sukuna with a oral fixation! licking reader's face like an animal mid fuck.. n reader always has a tummy bulge while they fuck cus of how big sukuna is! sukuna holding reader's hand against their own stomach so that reader can feel how deep kuna is inside of them, him pushing down on it to make reader squirm n shake as he slides in and out of them, feeling their insides clench around him with each thrust..

Belly bulge

ryomen sukuna x male reader

THIS WAS SO HOT ONG TY ANON MOUTH WATERING

Warning: NSFW, ftm reader, reader has top surgery but not bottom, belly bulge, face licking (sukuna licks your face like once), breeding?, fem terms used to describe readers genitals

"Hey!" You giggled as Sukuna pushed you onto the bed.

Sukuna smirked, climbing on top of you on the bed, giving some ticklish kisses to your neck, causing you to laugh and hit his back.

"Kuna'" You laughed again.

"You love it." Sukuna whispered, running his hands under your shirt.

You just moaned in response as Sukuna gently dragged his nails up and down your stomach.

Next thing you know, Sukuna is tearing your shirt off and kissing your scars. You grian at the feeling and run your hands up and down his naked back, of course he doesn't have a shirt on, he never wears shirts.

"(Nameeeee)." Sukuna whines, looking up at you with the best puppy dog eyes he can manage. He looks a bit silly but you think it's cute anyways.

"Yes?" You ask, bringing your hands up to play with his hair.

Sukuna doesn't respond, he just lifts your shirt up and over your head, kissing down your stomach then licking all the way back up to your neck.

Sukuna lets his hand travel to your waistband, pulling your pants and underwear off in one go.

"Mine." Sukuna repeats the word 'mine' over and over again, just to make sure you heard him the first ten times.

You just roll your eyes and smile as he gently caresses you all over, you had always expected Sukuna to be rough and unforgiving during sex but truthfully he's the opposite, he's not the king of curses, no, he's the king of foreplay.

You shiver as he gets closer to where you actually want him to touch you, but he pulls back and you whine and the loss of contact.

You look up to see Sukuna taking off his own pants, letting his dick spring free. God, his cock made your mouth water, it was just too good! For a supposedly evil and devilish guy his cock was heavenly and angelic.

"Gonna fill you up, yeah?" Sukuna looked down at you as he grabbed his dick with one hand, slapping it a few times against your pussy.

You wriggled your hips, trying to get him to hurry up. "C'monnn." You whined.

Sukuna smirked and slowly pushed it in, making you gasp. Every inch he pushed in made you shiver.

Once he was all the way in he looked at the little bulge in your stomach and laughed.

"M' too big for ya."

He slowly thrusted in and out before getting faster and faster, making you both moan louder and louder.

You smiled up at him dumbly. "I can... take it.."

Sukuna smirked and pressed his hand against the bulge in your stomach.

"Aah-!" You moaned out when he pressed down.

Sukuna gripped your hand tightly as he forced you to press your own hand against your stomach bulge, his hand resting on top of yours.

"You're... in my tummy.." You moaned out, eyes slightly rolling back.

Sukuna laughed. "That's right, baby."

He pressed down harder on your hand which caused you to press harder on the bulge.

"NGh-" You moaned, loving the feeling of it.

Sukuna bent down and licked your cheek. "Gonna fill you up so good... gonna cum in you."

You grunted as he thrusted into you even harder.

Sukuna moved his free hand and rubbed at your clit with his thumb, making you moan louder and caused your legs to shake.

"Feeling good, baby?"

You just nodded in response, too far gone to even think a response.

Your legs shook beside you, you could feel yourself coming closer to that release you craved.

With every thrust and rub you moaned and gripped tightly at the sheets.

"You gonna cum?" Sukuna asked, smirking down at you, his thrusts get harsher.

"Y-Yeah..." You nodded and used one hand to grip tightly onto the wrist of his hand that was rubbing your clit.

Your body shook as he pressed his thumb down on your clit as you shouted and released.

"Good boy... not much longer, I promise. Just gotta fill you up." Sukuna whispered.

You whined at the overstim, though it didn't last long before Sukuna came in you, giving a few more thrusts to make sure his cum stayed inside you.

Sukuna layer on top of you, not removing his dick, he didn't want any of his cum spilling out of you.

You both laid there, breathing heavily, you wrapping your arms around his back.

"Told ya that I was gonna fill you up." Sukuna smirked and you just laughed.

"You did."

srry if this was bad i havent written in a while and im sick

[tiny-minecraft-rabbit]

Do you think we could get 2 "you were never supposed to see this" with either Bad Boys or Jimmy and Joel?

Joel grumbled as he placed fended off another creeper, hastily putting down another torch down as if the low light would do anything in the massive cave they had found themselves in. He turned to a squealing Jimmy as the other took down a skeleton (there was several arrows lodged in his shield), "Where on earth did he go? Jim, you sure you saw him go this way?"

Jimmy quickly closed the space between, keeping his head on a swivel and his shield up as more mobs came out of the shadows. "Yeah! I'm telling you he came running down here. I mean, he told me not to follow, but given what's been going on I didn't want to leave a Bad Boy alone."

"Yeah, he's been antsy lately, it's been freaky," Joel agreed, knocking out a zombie.

Unfortunately, that zombie had called for reinforcements; and, with the several creepers and skeletons making ranged attacks, they had gotten themselves into a sticky situation.

"Not good- Not good!" Jimmy yelped as he stabbed at a zombie with a golden chestplate. With his shield down for just a moment a skeleton was able to lodge an arrow into his shoulder. He took a startled step back to lift his shield again, blocking the second arrow and swing of the zombie's sword, and then creeper went off next to him, sending him sprawling onto the ground.

"Jimmy!" Joel screeched as he turned away from his own fight to try and pushed the offending mobs off of his friend.

They were surrounding them. Joel doesn't think he could keep off the brunt of them off before Jimmy could recover enough to get back up. They were in trouble. They had so little time already, to lose more to a blooming mob of mobs didn't seem right.

Then, something shifted, a whole side of a cave column seemed to come loose. Joel could only see the shape in the darkness, it leaning forward and he anticipated the sound of the crash (even if he'd never seen stone collaspe like this, not something as big as that so suddenly), but instead of crashing the whole shape straightened out.

His blood ran cold as something enourmous stood over them, nearly nine blocks tall, then crouching down like a predator ready to pounce. This wasn't anything he had seen before. This wasn't anything he could fight.

It reached forward and he flinched away, covering himself and Jimmy with his shield. He could here Jimmy gasp underneath him, the clambering of his sword as he either dropped it or struggled to bring it up off the stone.

There was burst of wind over them, the creature swiping it's great arm over the area. Joel held his breath, waiting for the next swipe to actually hit them this time.

"Oh, guys-" The creature spoke. His breath caught in his throat. That was Grian's voice. "Guys, I'm not going to hurt you."

Joel slowly lowered his shield. For the first time he noticed the sudden lack of mob noises and he looked to the right, noticing the rather large pile of drops and XP. All the monsters were dead.

He swallowed and slipped the sword into his inventory for a moment to place a torch down in front of them. Immediately light was shed across the creature. For a second it was unrecognizable, big purple wings sprouting every which way, several on their back and face and even one on each arm- which did not seem very anatomically possible, but neither did the size of this thing -and bright glowing eyes and feathers covering half their face.

Then the actual facial features registered, the eye shape and nose and familar furrow of their brows. "Grian?" Joel asked, blinking rapidly, like it would dislodge the image of his friend off this creature; or at least make it make more sense.

"Grian!?" Jimmy repeated, albiet louder, pushing himself fulling up to look around Joel, "Grian! Dude! What happened to you?"

Grian gulped, slowly bringing himself down to sit criss-cross, not that it helped much with the height thing, "You were never supposed to see this."

""-Never supposed to see this"? "-Never supposed to see this"? Grian, you're a blooming giant! How on earth did this happen? How were we not supposed to see this?" Joel asked, waving his hand around to gesture at the whole of Grian.

"I was hoping I could get a handle on it before you saw," Grian replied, mostly under his breath, and pouting slightly, "I told Tim not to follow me."

"He didn't follow you. I came looking and he followed me. Completely different," Joel answered, crossing his arms.

"Yeah! Completely different," Jimmy shouted, also crossing his arms, "Now explain mister! I think as your team mates we deserve an answer for.. this!"

"I-" Grian started and stopped, growling lowly for a second. That something that Joel usually found funny when it was coming from someone the same size as him, but now it vibrated through him, like thunder overhead, "I shouldn't have to tell you anything... but fine. Just- Later. I'll explain later."

Joel wanted to argue, but when Grian set his mind to something there was nothing to do to change it. "Fine-"

"What?" Jimmy squeaked, turning to Joel, "We're just gonna accept this?"

"Yep," Joel popped the 'p', putting his shield away as well.

He walked up to Grian, whose eyes widened and tried to lean away. "Joel, what are you doing?"

Joel didn't answer and instead found the lowest point on Grian, with his legs crossed that ended up being his ankles, and started to climb.

"Joel?!" Grian repeated, hands hovering over him. Joel paused at the sight of them, Grian usually had little hands, but now they were big enough to wrap around his entire torso. He didn't though, didn't even bring a finger down to poke or push him off. Joel smirked and climbed up his knee.

Jimmy seemed to catch on and was right on top of Grian right after, climbing up the other knee, grinning madly as Grian started whining profusely.

"Guys! Don't- Why?" He pleaded.

"Cause it's funny, in'it?" Joel answered, settling in on Grian's thigh, leaning against his chest. Jimmy did the same on the other side. "Not to mention, we spent so long searching for you, we're tired now."

"No-"

"Yeah, Grian, caving is hard. We need a nap," Jimmy added, hands behind his head as he closed his eyes.

"You two were are way too ready to be menaces about this," Grian grumbled, leaning back himself against the cave pillar behind him. "Almost wish I scared you off instead."

Joel hummed but didn't say anything in response. Grian sighed above them, and he could feel the movement all around him. He was sure the moment Grian gained the confidence to touch and grab them he'd be getting his revenge- if whatever this was wasn't handled before then. Either way he and Jimmy would regret it later.

For now, they'd take a nap, and waste away the rest of the day, probably in the safest place they'd be in for the rest of the season.

[good-chimes]

Cub takes over the Permit Office

A short textual recap of the Succession-style coup Cub just carried out (Timestamp: Grian s10 e21 14:40-29:30)

Grian, Scar and Skizz all receive a mysterious summons to a disciplinary hearing to discuss ‘restructuring’ at the Permit Office.

Scar and Skizz turn up thinking they’re in trouble with Grian. Grian, who has received two warnings for completely unfair reasons like ‘not doing his job’, knows he’s in trouble with Mysterious HQ Person (Grian, terrified but curious: Is it Doc??).

Waiting nervously, all three of them agree that their collective efforts are a shambles, a mild blame game ensues, also a horse is here and they can’t kill it because Judge Bdubs would object.

A flying figure approaches.

To Grian and Skizz’s surprise and Scar’s delight, it’s Cub.

Cub times his slow-falling potions to sink slowly and dramatically to the ground in a completely horizontal position. (Cub: Hello, boys) (Scar: Hello, God!)

Cub has a red tie and a gold name tag and performs an immediate show of dominance by taming the horse and handing out golden apples.

Scar: yeah that horse was—

Cub: it’s my horse now

Grian, eating the apple: He’s trying to butter us up. Skizz, don’t eat the apples.

Cub: Grian, I have some excellent news for you, my friend. You’re fired.

Grian: I’m what—

Cub: And also rehired! To a lesser position.

Grian: So I’m, what, assistant permit manager?

Cub: assistant TO the permit manager.

Cub: that’s me.

Cub: I’m sorry you had to find out this way

Grian: [into his hands] I’m so relieved I hate this job so much

Grian: IT’S NOT FUN AND I CAN’T CONTROL IT. LOOK AT THE SHOPPING DISTRICT. THERE’S POP UP SHOPS EVERYWHERE.

Grian: even I’ve got a pop up shop!!

Cub: Grian and I share a similar sentiment, which is that the permits shouldn’t exist

Cub: which is why we both have these jobs

Scar: But… but it was you two who came up with the idea of permits in the first place!

Cub: yeah

Cub: but you were supposed to enforce it

At this point it should be noted Cub has variously a) claimed he's been sent by the higher ups and he didn't want to do this but, boys, he has to, b) claimed he is one of the higher ups, c) claimed he's 'quite high up but not so much' d) vehemently denied that there exists anyone who has a fancier name tag than he does

Cub forces them into an immediate tour of the shopping district

There really are pop up shops everywhere

Cub: Alright, here's some TNT.

Grian: er! wait! I dunno—!

Cub: What.

Grian: Maybe we should give people some warning?

Cub: Hm

Scar: We did! We have a thing! I built a redstone countdown clock! [waves at the contraption of stacked red-yellow-white pillars he spent several weeks on]

Grian: Scar, that HASN'T MOVED SINCE YOU BUILT IT

Scar: It does move! It's just going slowly!

Cub: We need to move faster.

Scar: I can adjust it. This is 2024 advanced redstone. I can change it. [flies off]

Skizz: Can he really—

Grian, resigned: He's just going to mine it. [Scar mines it]

Skizz: Can I take a shot at him?

Cub: Fire away, Skizz

Grian: I'm not sure about this new management!

Meanwhile Cub has been contemplating the nearest popups in a critical way.

Cub: I'm going to be honest, I'm part of this glass collective, and even I want to see this one blown up.

Grian: Look, boss, what if we put a big billboard up that says 'Pop up purge'... certain date.

Cub: Hm.

Cub: That's very reasonable. I was just going to blow stuff up, but if you want to do that, I think it's a good choice.

Grian: How much time are you giving them, boss?

Skizz: Well, that's what the timer was—

Scar: I HAVE A TIMER! IT'S COUNTING DOWN!

Cub: We want to do this lickety-split. Let's go two weeks.

Grian: [repeating to himself under his breath] Two weeks!

Scar: I'll program the redstone!

Cub: You program it in, Scar. Grian, you make the billboard. Skizz…

Skizz: Yeah?

Cub: …you keep on keeping on, baby.

Cub: You've been the background of this whole operation, Skizz.

Skizz now dramatically attempts to get them to a high point so they can look at the layout of the shopping district, a simple task stymied only by the fact Scar and Grian both refuse to take any instructions unless they come from Cub

Cub then orders that pop up shops will be confiscated to Scar and Skizz's enforcement office. Grian very curious about the punishment for permit violations. Scar suggests banishing violators to the far reaches by Doc's 'shooty-offy cannon'. Cub approves this exile penalty enthusiastically.

Cub: Alright.

Grian: There's a storm comin'.

Scar: [looks up at the blue sky] Really?

Skizz: Us. He means us.

Grian: It's more like a moderate breeze.

Skizz: Well, that's official, we're under new management! And the tone I’m getting is that Rub-a-Dub-Cub is not messin’ around.

Cub: You guys gotta get to it.

[Actual in-game storm starts]

Grian: There is a storm coming.

Scar: A storm of pain!

Grian: [to Cub] I'm so relieved. I couldn’t keep control of any of this.

Cub: It's alright, Grian. [PEAL OF IN-GAME THUNDER] We'll keep people in line.

Grian: It feels like the permit office has taken a really dark turn

Cub: Nah, it'll be fine. People will care about their permits! [MORE THUNDER] People will comply :)

[lxrd-ren]

Guys I think I know what the narrative is this season

It's not a server wide war or a sitcom-esque neighbourhood

It's not Wild Life because everyone is going Wild, but rather because only some people are

Think about it; how many references to past seasons there have been with people being predictable; the near opposite of wild, vs the amount of people who took a 180 in strategy and attitude this particular season

Think of any player and I bet you'll be able to figure out which one they fit in to

It's even the fact that there's one Wild player in each team

Bamboozlers:

Scar - Lotta 3rd Life references from the theme park concept (which was the original idea for Monopoly Mountain), the reputation board, falling off a cliff whilst singing in his base, etc

Lizzie - Base surrounded by greenery, lot of lives (both from last life), created 3 pet parrots (3 pet dogs in Last Life)

They both make references to Secret Life nearing the start of last session with Scar reminding his team how he can handle Etho (then went on to kill Etho) and Lizzie thinking about her party no one came to

But Jimmy? My guy has 5 kills, one of them being a double kill, and is sitting comfortably at 3 lives alongside Scar; which is unexpected to say the least as usually Jimmy's unluckiness causes his teammates to get bad placings, but they all are doing well

Final Girls:

Scott - All his teammates he already teamed up with in past seasons (multiple times in some cases), he is playing his usual strategy of making allies not enemies; he literally said aloud 'We need to start making allies', his sacrificial nature towards his teammates has not changed whatsoever and has had multiple attempts on his life already

Pearl - Her skin is a reference to her red life self, who got particularly popular the last season she teamed with Scott might I add (Double Life), she got herself a dog whose name rhymes with Tilly (Double Life) and she is not particularly liked by Gem because of the season prior (Secret Life)

Cleo - The BigB betrayal is insane to have happen again; both on the 4th session with near identical titles (Last Life), not to mention she again went to Pearl and Scott after it happened. The fact that there was a forest fire this session aswell is really putting the wild in Wild Life

But Impulse? Oh boy, COMPLETE 180

Much more chaotic than usual; hell even Scott, Gem and Cleo pointed out this change. According to them, even his tone of voice has changed this season

Spanners:

Skizz - Loyal to his team as always and is a sweetheart through and through, apologising to Lizzie after he killed her. Again he was the first one killed (Limited Life), is one of the first reds and might be the 3rd out of the series again

Grian - As usual is only mad at the 'cheap' kills others make against himself and others, desperately trying to keep his teammates alive with little success, having a base with bridges (Limited Life) that go no where (Secret Life)

Which leaves Mumbo to be the wild player of this team

And if him causing Scott to die a non-voluntary death for the first time in like seasons, not being as polite with insulting Joel's car, yelling at Martyn and encouraging Grian to kick Skizz out but complimenting him to his face doesn't sound wild for Mumbo, I don't know what does. He's also been particularly attached to Grian, and considering he has the Miner curse (dies soon after the canary, or Jimmy) and Jimmy also seems to be wild, Grian might be this seasons canary

Similar thing with Gem, Etho and Bdubs. Gem saying she misses the kind Impulse, Etho and Bdubs arguing over a horse like every other season, etc

Redwood is kinda the outlier with both Ren and Martyn seeming to do things as normal with Ren trading alliances with lives and Martyn voicing how everyone is aware of what he tends to be like in the earlier episodes; I mean this teammup has been done before, being one of the very few to repeat

Perhaps Ren coming back after 2 seasons had something to do with it - Ren wasn't supposed to be there, so it left things unbalanced. Actually when I think about it, maybe Martyn and BigB were supposed to team up. BigB would've been the wild player, which explains the skin, but the universe tried to correct itself which is why he didn't go into session 4 with his new skin, is making friends with Grian and Ren (previous allies from Double Life) and planned to betray Scott, which led to another BigB betrayal from Cleos pov

However, I believe Tango and Joel are a mix, leading them to be prominent players this time around. I already talked in a previous post about this season mimicking Last Life particularly Tango + Joel heading down what seems to be similar paths to Joel + Scott in Last Life

With mirroring past seasons players, they are wild with being very different AND the usual with being a walking reference

[betweenlands]

Impulse thinks he might've started seeing things early this time.

It happens at least once a season at this rate, so it's not really a surprise on that side of things. And it's not as bad as the boogeyman clock-ticking he's heard twice now, so, he'll take it, just... it hasn't even been a full session yet?

He'd like to say it started when he ended up tag-teaming with Gem and Scott, but the truth is, that's not quite it. It started when he got his task and ended up in the cherry grove up there, and that little part of him he knows is basically a ghost detector went this task isn't so bad -- maybe people will actually trust me this time! There's never been a bad guy who built with cherrywood, right?

Really weird thing for a ghost detector sense to say. But then Gem and Scott caught up, and they sort of just fell into a natural alliance, and yeah -- Impulse looks at their location-in-progress and thinks we're gonna be the good guys this season, and for a split second feels this headache.

Then it's gone.

It happens again when Skizz visits, which is probably part of a task, but all Impulse knows is... he walks up to Skizz while he's saying "I've been that guy, that all I do is tell the truth, and I'm a loyal sword -- I think I might be the guy that just wants to lie to everybody and just be a jerk!"

Knee-jerk response: "Nah. Don't love that idea. Hate it."

Internal ghost-detector response: I mean, who says those things are mutually exclusive?

Impulse has to stop himself from whipping around fully at the voice, which sounds almost like Scott, except Scott isn't behind them right now -- just Jimmy, and past that the cherrywood trees. He thinks for a second there might be a flash of red among all those pink blossoms. He shrugs it off as Grian skulking around, even though he knows Grian doesn't have pink hair.

A few minutes later, he knows it definitely wasn't Scott, because the guy shows up to immediately point out a zombie villager appearing on the mountain -- there's a librarian, right there, aggroed more or less directly on him. They scramble to get it in a boat and cover its head. Some part of him suggests they should bury it underground, just in case. They only need one more.

Next sighting is a bit more difficult to ignore, mainly because Impulse knows when he's being made fun of, and when a goat smacks him while he's trying to wrangle it into a boat, he catches sight of someone with long blonde hair cackling like a maniac about it from the other side of the border wall, and before he can do anything more than think huh, how'd False get past the border? they're gone.

False is not in this season. He tries his best to put that behind him and inform his teammates of the real issue, which is:

"YOU SAID THAT GOATS WERE NOT A PROBLEM," Impulse yells, trying to pretend the panic is about the loss of a half heart. "I JUST GOT GOATED." He can see the campfire Gem and Scott set up over their shoulders. Someone wearing red is sitting at one of the seats. Impulse resolutely ignores the fact that he hasn't seen Grian at all so far.

That's it for the ghosts for a while, enough to lull him into a false sense of security. Maybe it is just Grian sneaking around. (Maybe the guy in a red poncho he sees in the distance in the badlands Scar has based just outside of is just Grian reliving his glory days.)

"By the way, this is Traitor Scar's!" Scar says brightly.

You think his partner's Grian again? a voice says wryly. It's not either of their voices. It's not the voice of anyone Impulse even knows, for that matter. It sounds like it came from over by the badlands.

"Trader Scar's," Impulse repeats, realizing he's misheard what Scar actually said.

Eh, the voice says. Like recognizes like.

[jellieland]

The thing is, it doesn't actually make any difference, really.

It doesn't.

What's the difference between a fistfight and a blade?

Between three axe strikes and one?

More blood. More pain. Nothing but drawn out suffering.

And they can all say what they like about him, but they can't deny that he wanted it to be over.

All day he lies and lies and lies, he deflects and backstabs and smooths things over, and over, and over again, and it works, and there are no consequences, because the world is not fair.

They suggest a fair fight. All of them swinging at each other in a mess of random chance, once Scott has thrown away his hard earned time, the time he tore from those who he killed, those who are gone, and Martyn has done the same.

They won't like that.

They won't like that.

They would find that boring.

...

...He would find that boring, actually.

They plan it out and talk it over and he stews in it, heart pounding in his ears, and he lies to them, as he often does.

He's angry. He's so angry.

At Impulse - doesn't he know they need to keep things interesting? There's already so much that repeats, and repeats, and repeats, and now he wants a rerun of finale number one. They're not friends, they're not Scar and Grian. Why should they give this up for each other? Why would they? Who is he to demand that they do?

At Scott - what does he think this is? He won. He won, all he had to do was take it, and it would have been over, and Martyn could have fought back without a second thought, with the knowledge that he could never win. But no, he has to be defiant as he always is, as though it's easy, as though it does anything at all in the end other than hurt.

No.

This is easy.

The power of friendship does not win in the end, because it never does. With the way the world works, it never will. Whether he gave it the chance to or not is irrelevant.

It feels good, too - wild and furious and unrestrained.

Time tastes sweeter when there's no-one left to hear you scream about it.

And finally, finally, the blood on his hands is honest.

...

He's not won. Scott won, and Scott threw it away.

Who cares, though. What does it matter.

What will it ever matter.

He was angry at Scott, and he was angry at Impulse, and now he has stabbed them both in the back and he stands and he stares, and the fury curls back into its familiar knot inside his chest.

And the world kills him.

And he is angry at that most of all.

[boatboysrowout]

i am So Very Interested in the burger king vs mcdonalds au if you're willing to share more 👁️👁️

i'm so glad you asked

it's all grian's fault, of course. 'it'll be great if all my friends got a summer job around the same place!' he said. 'it'll be fun hanging out on our lunch breaks!' he said. 'this is a genius idea, nothing will go wrong!' he said.

it goes wrong in less than a day.

it all starts with scar's job application getting rejected from burger king. he takes this very personally, as the man who interviews him is grian's friend who had just been hired the day before, and scar had been assured he would get an easy in. ren, however, didn't like how many questions scar was asking about their ice cream machine and where their security cameras were placed.

so out scar goes, sulking his way through a successful interview to work at the white castle down the road, joining bdubs and cleo. the rest of grians friends end up scattered in shops around the two restaurants with varying degrees of satisfaction with their summer jobs.

grian, as he is wont to do, waffles around a bit before committing to a job. he's pretty sure he's going to join bigb at the library, but before he decides, he goes to pay scar a visit to make sure he's still not sulking about the burger king fiasco.

that, too, is a mistake.

grian doesn't know what happened. he swears he just meant to stop in and say hi. and maybe play a little prank! just a funny little joke! only he didn't realize how much hair spray bdubs uses and how flammable that made his hair, and really, how could grian have known that the second after he fled the scene of his crime, scar would walk in at the exact wrong moment holding a lighter, making him look like the guiltiest motherfucker on earth?

it's absolutely not his fault.

but.

now scar is out of a job again, and he's gotten it in his head that the only way to get his revenge on ren is to work at the mcdonalds across the street from the burger king and, to quote scar, "make him regret not taking my offer." and listen. this is the third job scar's had in two days. it kind of feels a little bit like grian's responsibility to make sure he doesn't get fired from this one too. but it'll be fine. what else could go wrong?

so much. so, so much.

scar almost immediately goes off the rails. he creates his own customer rewards program in which he refuses to serve a customer if they don't pledge their undying loyalty to the mcdonalds in exchange for scar certified McReputation points. this somehow is remarkably successful despite grain's repeated warnings that this is a scam- scar pulls some strings and grian is forced into kitchen duty after he tries to warn one too many customers. martyn and ren catch word of this and try institute a similar program, albeit to a much less successful degree. scar, however, cannot let that stand.

grian also cannot let that stand, but this is more due to martyn coming over every day during his lunch break and annoying grian by telling increasingly convoluted jokes all ending with a punchline relating to the mcdonald's broken ice cream machine.

so that afternoon grian and scar pay the burger king a visit. scar goes up to the front counter and gives ren and martyn the longest sales pitch of his life, something about cereal, and while they're distracted grain climbs through the drive through window and smashes their ice cream machine with a baseball bat.

that's the beginning of the end.

ren takes the attack way too personally. he gets naked, makes martyn crown him with a shitty cardboard crown, dubs himself the burger king, and declares war on the mcdonalds.

he and martyn set out to recruit for their army amongst the rest of their friends in the area to varying degrees of success. they first go to visit joel in his art shop, but quickly decide to leave after the first thing they hear upon walking in is a conversation in the back room in which someone appears to be blackmailing joel over something in the basement.

they decide to try impulse and tango down at the arcade, and both of them are so confused by ren's sales pitch they just agree to make him go away (they do the same thing when scar and grian visit them a few hours later).

ren and martyn's visit to the white castle is the worst yet. instead of walking in and recruiting bdubs and cleo with their impassioned speech and thirst for justice, the burger king and his hand walk into an active warzone.

there's smoke everywhere. bdubs is screaming. martyn swears he hears a gun go off. cleo is cackling. someone runs past them entirely engulfed in flames. as ren and martyn make a hasty retreat etho cheerfully greets them from his seat on a bench outside the building, tinkering with something that looks suspiciously like a pipe bomb.

they decide to take a break from recruiting after that.

meanwhile, scar and grian have been busy. they've recruited jimmy and scott from the florists down the road to launch a yelp smear campaign against the burger king, tanking them from a respectable 3.8 stars to 1 star in an afternoon. to a normal human being, this would mean nothing, but they text a screenshot of this to martyn and ren with the caption 'this u?'

martyn and ren have never once reacted to anything normally or proportionality in their life.

skizz, one of their regulars, also takes great offense to this. he insists that this is a devastating blow against the burger king's honor, and vows to get revenge.

no one's sure exactly how he does it, but within an hour he manages to trace one of the bad reviews back to jimmy and promptly doxes him, getting him fired due to the content of his surprisingly popular google+ account.

scar and grian, after laughing hysterically for an hour over the fact that jimmy was a google+ influencer, continue their reign of terror over the burger king by taking a selfie of them next to the burger king drive through menu, which they somehow have relocated to the roof of the mcdonalds.

it's the last straw for ren.

decked out in a red cape made of the burger king curtains and armed with a spatula and the fury of a thousands suns, ren marches across the street to the mcdonalds and challenges scar and grian to a winner-takes-all duel.

a crowd begins to gather, with nearly everybody grian knows save for the people involved in what has been dubbed the white castle war, forming a loose arch behind ren and martyn as they begin to chant for a fight.

grian and scar, who came outside to see what all the commotion was about, both predictably panic at the sight of two men in capes charging towards them backed by a crowd chanting for blood. grian tries to claw his way back up the roof while scar, possessed by the spirit of apollo, does the only thing he can and chucks a potato at ren's head.

that potato hits ren square in the forehead and knocks him out cold.

the crowd goes silent.

martyn, thinking ren is dead, drops to his knees and cradles his unconscious body close to his chest and dramatically confesses his everlasting love, vowing to never leave ren's side and to never stop spreading the tale of ren's 'grey long and strong' bits.

grian, upon witnessing this, realizes to his abject horror that he also has gay feelings for his manager.

he has no idea what to do with these feelings, and the crowd is still chanting fight, and he's experienced a lot of stress and unexpected emotions in the last five minutes, so he really can't be blamed when he turns on his heel and punches scar in the face.

scar, surprised but absolutely willing to go along with it, punches grian back, and they begin beating the shit out of each other in the most pathetic fist fight a mcdonalds parking lot has ever witnessed.

meanwhile, there's police cars and fire trucks with sirens on speeding down the road past them, and someone in the crowd realizes 'oh shit are those all going to the white castle?'

so the crowd immediately abandons the world's worst fight to go see what the hell has been going down in the white castle.

it takes a bit, but, with martyn still confessing his love and sobbing over ren's unconscious body, grian finally manages to land a lucky hit and knocks scar out, sending him crumpling to the ground. for the second time that day, grian realizes with horror what he's done, and frantically tries to run to get a medic only to trip over scar's unconscious body and knock himself out as well.

The headline of the local newspaper the next morning reads as follows:

...anyone wanna ask me about my last life mall au

[sleepy0s]

you have no clue.

YHS!Grian/Xelqua: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Xisuma: You’re too young to have enemies.

YHS!Grian/Xelqua: You don’t even know.

Okay we have a schedule guys. Tuesdays. Thursdays. Sometimes saturdays, and probably sundays.

Ok, so i have decided that for this one-shot im swapping his name situation. Xelqua is his birth name, Grian is his witness protection name that he doesn't get till later.

277 Words

~~~

Xisuma had been in the past for around a week now? And it wasn’t that bad, honestly. The worst thing had been getting used to the way everything used to be. 

He was living in some small house with three teenagers, Taurtis, Sam, and Xelqua. Sam is the one who let him stay at their house. Which Xisuma admittedly did find a bit weird, but the other two didn’t look stressed, so he just went with it.

Currently, he is alone in the house with Xelqua, a young teen; he thinks the boy is around 16. He has fluffy wings that are obviously too large for him, and Xisuma thinks he is adorable! ANYWAY! The other two had rushed out of the apartment an hour ago, claiming it was'school-related’ although it definitely looked like Sam had a knife in his back pocket. 

Whatever, Xisuma was sitting on the sofa watching some David Attenborough documentary about bugs and whatnot. Xelqua had just been wandering around the house, doing random chores, so Xisuma didn’t notice when he turned around and the boy was leaning on the back of the sofa, deeply invested in the current segment about bees. 

The boy sighed, “I wish I could control bees and wasps so I could make them sting my enemies..” The comment itself made Xisuma extremely confused, mostly because Xelqua looked so serious. Xisuma just smiled, offering the boy a comforting pat on the shoulder. “You’re too young to have any proper enemies.”

Xelqua just mumbled something inaudible, folding over the sofa. “Pardon.?” Xisuma smiled.

“You don’t even know the start of it.” The boy repeated, sinking his head into the pillows.

[angeart]

vampire scar ch1 story wip-

The area around them is dangerous; the night is quickly drawing in and the darkness is beginning to wield claws and teeth, bloodlust seeping into the air in sharp howls and snarls. Yet even then, entering unknown structures could be as dooming as staying inside. Four walls could as easily trap as protect. It’s always a gamble.

With that in mind, Grian still leads Mumbo towards the mansion that looms eerie and quiet and foreboding in front of them. With a little bit of luck, it will be abandoned, covered in dust and silence and bones. 

He should’ve known better. They haven’t had luck in a long time.

The hinges creak when they ram into the huge, ornate front door to convince it to open. That’s promising. The grating sound is a song of disuse, and Grian considers it a good sign as they tumble inside and quickly shut the door behind them.

For a little bit, they just breathe and try to get their bearings. The entrance hall is huge, sprawling, running off in all kinds of directions. It’s hard to make out the detail of the interior; the only light is the swiftly dimming light coming in through the windows.

Grian fails to notice that the windows aren’t covered in grime. He fails to notice that the place is not in disarray, covered in spiderwebs. He fails to notice that the air isn’t stale and dusty. 

“I—I think this looks good?” Mumbo looks around cautiously, keeping close to Grian in this unfamiliar space.

Grian breathes out a huff of relief, even though the sound is still coated with tension; his body refuses to relax, too many unknown variables still spinning through his mind. Anything could lurk in the dark corners and dozens of rooms, and they’re aware only of one singular escape route—and even that is slow and uncertain, hanging on rusty, unwilling hinges. 

If he would be easily swayed with any shreds of things that faintly resemble comfort, they wouldn’t have survived this long.

So he doesn’t give in. He looks around, and he wishes it would be as simple as it seems. There’s a desperate yearning in him for something uncomplicated, for one night not filled with threats and dread and fear for their lives. How he wishes to be able to close his eyes and maybe, maybe sink into a soft bed and just sleep without being terrified of the possibility of not waking up in the morning—

This place is bound to have some soft beds.

Grian’s stomach twists at the thought. No, he tells himself. He can’t be stupid here. He can’t give in. They need to remain alert; they know nothing about this place.

“We should look around,” he suggests, voice taut. 

“Yes. Definitely,” Mumbo agrees immediately, his eyes roaming the area. “Do you want to split up?”

Grian swivels on his heels to face him, an indignant scoff on his lips. “Split—Split up?! Mumbo!” he chastises. “You know that—“

Mumbo lifts his hands up defensively. “Alright, alright! I’m just saying, it’s a big place. Lots of ground to cover.”

Grian’s gaze is drawn off to the side, to the doors that line only one side of the room. So many options. So many possible traps. So many places for danger to hide in. “Okay,” he says slowly, trying to swallow the trepidation that grows thick in his throat. “We could—Maybe we could check adjacent rooms, stay near but check multiple places at once?” he suggests, even though everything in him prickles, unease nauseatingly settling over him.

“Yeah, okay,” Mumbo doesn’t sound convinced, but it was his idea in the first place, so he relents. “That sounds reasonable.”

Grian glares at him. It doesn’t sound very reasonable to him. But they’re both tired and searching this place inch by inch is going to take ages as-is. They have to make compromises, Grian knows this, but it doesn’t make it any easier. “Fine,” he sighs. “Which side do you want to start with?” 

“It honestly makes no difference,” Mumbo remarks.

“Fine,” Grian repeats, a tad more irritably now. He’s tired, he’s tense, his danger-senses are tingling. He is high-strung, even though he tries to convince himself that they just found something safe, that they’re not out there without shelter, that this is good. “Here, then.” He walks to his left, towards the first set of rooms, and Mumbo immediately follows without a word.

They both fall into something familiar, something orchestrated and practiced. They move quietly, their steps soft, shoulders slightly hunched, one hand always hovering over a weapon in anticipation of a threat. 

As soon as they reach the two sets of doors, they give each other a look and a small nod. Grian can see Mumbo bracing himself. He knows he’s doing the same thing. 

And then he pushes the door open and steps over the threshold of a dark room.

At first, a feeling that he’s alone now sinks into him, even if Mumbo’s just a shout away. He thinks about how he’s going in blindly—they don’t even have torches or anything. Every shadow will make him jumpy, he fully expects this—

Except the room is not as dark as it should be.

And it certainly isn’t as empty as he’d hoped.

It’s the far end of the room that’s flickering with dim, warm light. There’s a candle burning up, its flame a weak, dying thing. Grian’s eyes snag at it at first, drawn by the light like a moth to a flame. There’s something reassuring in the gentle, hot glow of a fire, just for a split second, until he pushes that instinct down and reminds himself that a fire he himself didn’t set is bound to burn him— 

That’s when his gaze swerves to the side.

There’s a person there.

There’s a person.

Grian’s mind short-circuits for three precious seconds, before he reboots. Immediately, he hunches up more. His fingertips find his daggers, a tool as ready for stabbing as for throwing. The other person didn’t notice him yet—clearly, because they start humming some silly, jaunty, way-too-content melody as they look over what seems to be an old leather journal. The hum is interrupted only by huffs of laughter.

This gives Grian enough time to take the stranger in.

He doesn’t like what he finds.

Even in the candlelight, their skin is pale, and there’s an old, dried spot of blood near the corner of their mouth. They’re dressed up a bit too well for the reality they’re living in. 

The candlelight glimmers, catches on something shiny and sharp.

A canine tooth.

Grian takes in a sharp breath. He straightens up, grabs a proper hold of one of the daggers, and he thinks in alarm of Mumbo in the other room—and sure, Mumbo didn’t call out yet, but if there’s one of these guys, there might be more, and—

And Grian needs to warn him right now, even at the cost of blowing his own stealth.

“Mumbo!” he calls out, and he belatedly wonders if this will just call more trouble to them than they can handle. “There’s a monster here!”

There’s a frightened gasp then, a jump and a thud of a journal that was sent flying and hit the floor.

“What?! Where?” An alarmed yelp that sounds across the space isn’t Mumbo’s voice. It’s the stranger’s voice—startled, deep, but oddly soft. 

For a second, Grian thinks maybe he made a mistake. Maybe this person isn’t a monster, if this is their reaction?

The stranger spins around and his eyes land on Grian’s, their gaze locking. He holds a hand to his chest and he heaves a big breath, before he chuckles quietly, a tense and unsteady sound. “Gosh, you scared me.”

“I—what?” Grian stares uncomprehendingly at the reaction.

The man’s lips curl into a cherubic smile, then—innocent and bright and—

Definitely not harmless, given by the two sharp canines and the dried blood at the corner of his mouth.

This drives it in for Grian, erasing all doubts: this person is a vampire.

“Well hello there,” the man says, seamlessly slipping more confidence and charm into his voice, even if the edges of it still echo startled unease. “I didn’t realise I have guests!” His gaze jumps to somewhere past Grian’s shoulder. “How rude of me. Welcome!”

Something touches Grian’s back and he almost jumps out of his skin, shrieking at the touch.

“No! It’s just me!” Mumbo immediately tries to fix his mistake.

“God,” Grian breathes out deeply, everything in him ready to snap as he turns back towards the enigma of a vampire they’re now facing. At least he’s no longer alone in this. “He’s a vampire,” he murmurs to Mumbo, even though he’s fully aware his voice carries all the way across the room.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Mumbo notes, signs of distress colouring his voice.

“Now, now,” the man in front of them—the monster, the vampire—lifts his hands amicably. “There’s no need for alarm. I’m a vegetarian!” he offers cheerily. 

Even though he says that, his gaze lingers on Grian in a way that makes a chill run down his spine.

“A vegetarian,” Grian repeats flatly. He isn’t sure why he’s even entertaining the idea; it’s completely absurd.

“Yes!” the man nods fervently, his smile spreading, all toothy and sharp. “I don’t eat anything with a face!”

The blood stain at the corner of his mouth says otherwise.

“I didn’t know that’s possible,” Mumbo exclaims from behind Grian, a little bit too naively for Grian’s comfort.

“Mumbo, there’s no way he’s telling the truth,” he grumbles at him, annoyed.

“No! No, I am!” the man insists. “I usually tear the face off first.”

He says it so simply, chuckling a little, it completely flabbergasts Grian.

“A—You what?” the words fall past his lips before he can think better of it.

“I tear the face off,” the man repeats with an unbothered shrug of his shoulder. It seems to take him another moment to register the apprehension of the other two people in the room, because he only belatedly hastily adds: “There’s nothing to worry about, really! I haven’t had guests in ages, I’m so happy to have you over!”

“We’re—“ Grian’s mind spins as he tries to process this. “Guests? Over? What? No!”

“Oh.” The man’s shoulders slump in immense sadness—it reeks of solitude, of disappointment, of such sheer unhappiness that it stabs at Grian’s heart.

He knows this is wrong. He knows vampires are charming and manipulative. He knows they have their ways of pulling in their prey, before they inevitably sink their teeth into flesh and bleed them dry. And yet—

And yet.

Something in his heart can’t bear the look of this stranger looking so small and abandoned. Maybe because he himself knows what it feels like, first-hand. Maybe because he knows that if it wasn’t for Mumbo, he’d be completely lost. He can’t begin to imagine staying in a big, empty, dark place all alone for—how long?

His feelings keep snagging on something hot, like that flickering flame of a candle. Something that burns through his veins, singes his heart. Something unsteady and dangerous.

He didn’t know vampires could look lonely.

He hates himself for that swell of empathy. He hates the momentary loss of control. He knows they’re being played now. 

“Look, pal,” he starts, and it’s cautious. He takes a step back, meets Mumbo’s chest and hopes the man realises this is their cue to retreat. “I appreciate the offer, but we’re not staying. Sorry to intrude, we’ll—uh, we’ll leave you to it.” Whatever the it was.

The man is still looking directly at him. There’s something yearning in his eyes. Something heartbroken. He seems to shrink further as he tears his gaze away. “Okay,” he says in a small voice.

Mumbo makes an unhappy noise in the back of his throat. He’s still blocking Grian’s retreat.

“Mumbo,” Grian hisses at him.

“Yeah, right, I just—“ Mumbo stammers, indecision wild in his veins. He takes a tentative half-step away, feeling Grian immediately crowd his space again, pressing against him to retreat further.

The man—no, not man, the vampire—looks towards the window contemplatively, before his gaze flicks back to them. “You want to leave?”

“Yes,” Grian confirms immediately. “We’re just gonna go—“

“Where?” the vampire asks, an odd, unreadable inflection in his voice as he takes a singular step forward.

Grian twitches. “Out,” he replies, his voice strained. He presses further against Mumbo, and thankfully Mumbo moves, takes three steps, enough to get them out of the room, but not too many to still be able to catch and steady Grian at the unexpected loss of security. 

The vampire’s eyebrows pull to a concerned scowl. “But it’s dangerous.”

He says it so simply. So staggeringly simply. 

The worst thing about it is, he’s not wrong.

Grian pauses and contemplates this for a moment, then. The outside poses a million potential unknown threats. Here, they’re facing a vampire, but they know how to handle vampires. They could handle one of them. They could— This could still be their best option. 

“Are you alone?” he ventures tentatively.

The vampire gives him a look that says it all. “Yes,” he admits, and it’s not charming, it’s not confident. It’s shaky and it’s open and it’s wounded. Maybe a little bit afraid. “I—Is it so bad I don’t want to be, for a little bit? I promise I’m not dangerous,” he slides straight to bargaining. “You can sleep here! I could, I probably have some food you could eat. I won’t do anything to you, I just—I—“

He looks so, so lost.

“Grian?” Mumbo says quietly, and it comes out a bit wobbly and emotional.

That’s the thing that breaks Grian’s own dangerous tilt of judgement. He looks over his shoulder sharply, frowning. “You can’t be serious.”

“W—well, I mean—“ Mumbo fumbles for words, trying to get some rationality out of his heart. “It’s better than the outside?”

Grian side-eyes the vampire. “We should just kill him.”

“Kill?” the vampire repeats in alarm; the word is laced with false laughter, as if he tried to spin it into a joke. It rings hollow, anxious, untrue. “Noooo, no, there’s no need for that! I like living thank-you-very-much!”

“Living,” Grian repeats flatly, challengingly. “You’re not alive.”

“I am!” the vampire protests vehemently. “I breathe and I bleed and I can die.” He pauses, ponders briefly if making that one point in particular was smart. “I—Well. I can starve and all that and, and, I have feelings!”

Grian stares at him blankly. Something in him is unconvinced, but his heart bashes itself against his ribcage in attempted empathy anyway. “This can't be happening,” he mutters dismally.

“Look, I can, I can show you around! You can decide then! It’s just me here, all alone, there’s plenty of space for you even if you want me to stay away! I can go to a different wing or—or something. I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement?” he proposes, his voice hasty and desperate. “I just. You don’t have to leave.”

Something about the way he says it chips away at Grian’s resolve, strips his caution, leaves him feeling incredibly human in arguably the worst way possible when confronted with a charming monster. Still, he hears himself say, “Okay.”

The vampire perks up immediately. “Okay!” he echoes.

“Okay?” Mumbo repeats with more alarm and unsteadiness.

Grian shoots him a look. “I thought you wanted to do this?”

“W—Well, yes, I just. I didn’t expect you to agree?” he admits sheepishly.

“Mumbo.” Grian is looking at him with a deep frown. “Do you want to stay or do you want to leave?”

“I—I don’t know!” Mumbo cries, indecisiveness rushing wildly through his veins. More than anything, he doesn’t want to be culpable for this decision and its repercussions. 

Grian sighs and lets his gaze slide away. If Mumbo can’t bear the weight of this decision, it now falls back on Grian. It’s a familiar weight. It’s something he needs to shoulder, their fate, their pitfalls. The inevitable guilt of it all. The feeling that whatever he decides might just guide Mumbo to his demise.

He meets the gaze of the vampire, as steadily as he can manage. “Give us the tour.”

Without hesitation, the vampire moves forward, towards the door, towards the room’s exit, towards the rest of the mansion—

Grian flinches at the sudden approach and stumbles a couple of steps back, pulling Mumbo with him, keeping the taller man protectively behind him. 

It makes the vampire pause. “Okay,” he says slowly. “I think we need to lay some ground rules. First of all, introductions. That always helps! I’m Scar!”

Grian blinks, his throat dry with the abruptness of his panic reaction. With the preposterousness of this situation.

“And you are?” the vampire—Scar—prompts.

“I—I’m Mumbo, and this is Grian,” Mumbo stammers for both of them. 

Scar’s eyes spark up and he gives a big smile. “Wonderful! I’m happy to meet you!” The words are silky, charming in a way that lets them easily burrow underneath skin without notice. They’re honest, too, and maybe that’s where they draw their power from—because Scar truly is lonely, in such a deep, raw way, and there’s nothing if not pure relief that his new guests decided to not immediately leave.

He’s tired of feeling like a monster. He’s tired of being alone, unloved, unwanted.

He’s tired of feeling like these old, cracked, dusty walls—empty and abandoned.

His heart beats in his chest in a wild waltz as he approaches the strangers-no-more again, this time careful about where he steps and how close he gets. He maintains a safe distance, giving a tight smile as he passes them, before taking big steps into the open space.

He spins there, buzzing with theatrics and more than a smidge of showmanship, spreading his arms wide. “This is my mansion.”

It’s very easy, Grian finds, to give in. To let Scar reel him in and pull him along. His body follows unquestioningly, taking in room after room after room, dizzyingly trying to slot the information and not get lost amidst it all—his survival instincts scream at him, but the rest of him is just plain tired and, honestly, a little bit lulled after he watches Scar for a while.

Because Scar isn’t lithe and agile, strong and immovable. He isn’t as charming as one would expect of a vampire, either, even if he’s rambly and his tongue is undeniably tinged with silver. He’s cheerful and he’s giggly and he’s, for the lack of a better word, endearing. But more than that, he’s clumsy and forgetful and edging just on the side of nervous.

It puts Grian ill-at-ease, because this isn't what a vampire should be, and that means Grian can't predict him, doesn't know what to expect. 

And yet he keeps following him, watching him, listening to him. 

He should try to pay more attention to the mansion tour and less to the man, maybe. The layout is important. He needs to know exit routes, and the possible sources of danger.

But isn’t Scar a source of danger? Living—or so he claims—and moving and very much capable of harm?

So what if Grian’s gaze lingers on him a little bit too much? What if he focuses on his body language and his tone more than the walls that surround them? 

He tells himself it’s only because he’s being wary.

“You can sleep here,” Scar finally says in a room that has two huge beds, at the very end of the mansion. The hallway that leads to the room ends with a backdoor exit, an easy way out if they feel trapped or—Scar very much wants to not think about it, even if it’s an option he offers freely—if they decide to sneak out.

Scar walks towards the fireplace and he fiddles for a while, struggling to get it lit.

“Here, I can help,” Mumbo offers, moving forward. He produces flint and steel, reaching for the fireplace.

Grian watches Scar flinch away.

His lips purse, taking in the scene. The beds are a comfort they weren’t able to indulge in for a long time. So is the fire, deep at night. A source of light and warmth. There’s a clear exit. Nobody else is in the building. Nothing about this screams it’s a trap. 

And they know how to kill vampires, if push comes to shove.

But they can’t do it if they’re asleep.

He stares at Scar, his gaze prickling the vampire until he turns around and their gazes meet.

Scar offers a tentative, shy smile.

“If there’s anything else you guys need, just let me know,” Scar says then, the words easy on his tongue, unhesitatingly willing to provide for them.

Grian frowns. “What do you need?” he questions instead. “What do you want from us?”

“Nothing!” Scar says immediately.

Grian dismally thinks that’s the first lie he’s heard from him. It’s so easy to identify, it makes everything else startlingly slot in as truth. The awareness of it makes him feel destabilised at his core. He sways a little in his spot, reaches out for the bed frame for support. “That’s—No,” he says weakly, too aware of the green eyes boring into him. “You definitely want something.”

There it is. That heartbreak.

He didn’t know vampires could project heartbreak so well.

Project? Or feel?

Grian finds with increasing panic that he can no longer tell the difference. None of this makes sense. None of this should be happening.

The fire crackles, strong and alive, lapping at the air and throwing a warm, flickering glow over the room as Mumbo takes a step away from it. 

“Oh, you did it!” Scar perks up, his eyes squinting in a smile he throws Mumbo’s way. “That’s wonderful, thank you for your help!”

“Well, I mean, it’s for us, right?” Mumbo sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “And it was easy enough.”

“It always gives me trouble,” Scar admits freely, “dealing with fire. A bit scary, if you ask me.”

“You’re a vampire,” Grian notes flatly. It comes out blank and rough, his suspicions warring with his emotions. “Fire harms you.”

“Yes, well,” Scar meets his gaze. “I like how it glows. I like the warmth.”

Grian continues to stare at him, because he isn’t sure how to actually process all of that. Instead, he takes a breath and presses: “You didn’t answer the question.”

Scar blinks. “What question?”

Grian frowns, but doesn’t relent. “What do you want from us?” 

Scar’s gaze shifts to the fireplace. “The fire harms you, too,” he says, and it’s soft and contemplative, but makes everything in Grian prickle with a warning. “You also get hungry,” Scar continues. “And you need rest, and you need—“ he falls quiet.

“We need?” Mumbo prompts, and he sounds so gentle, so careful.

It makes Scar lift his gaze to him, meet his eyes. There’s hesitation in him, some unknown emotions swirling up, raw and threatening. He swallows hard, before prying his gaze away. “You need safety,” Scar continues, even though his voice is clearly strained, “and I can give you that.”

“What for,” Grian insists. “What do you want for it.”

Green eyes shift to him, and somehow Grian’s heart picks up speed, feeling irrationally guilty at having asked.

“I don’t want anything,” Scar repeats, his voice wavering and quiet.

“Surely you must want something out of this,” Grian insists, even though there’s a lump in his throat and he feels terrible.

Scar looks away, then. He severs their connection, making Grian reel at the sudden lack of it.

“I just,” Scar says, and it’s a half-sigh, it’s a half-whisper, it’s a quiet, tentative, cracked confession. “I thought it might be nice to have some company for a little bit.”

It’s so soft, so vulnerable that it makes Grian feel like the ground was pulled from underneath him. Emotions sway him at the sight of the man—the vampire, he reminds himself futilely—so hunched over and sad. 

He knows how feeling alone in a world that no longer wants you feels like.

He just didn’t count on monsters having actual feelings.

He didn’t count on monsters looking so human.

His heart clogs his throat and he finds himself speechless.

“Were you—“ Mumbo tries to say something, but his voice falters as soon as Scar’s gaze lands on him. There’s a moment of silence, before Mumbo regathers his courage and finishes: “Were you alone for long?”

Scar’s shoulders sag at that. He seems to be crushed underneath some invisible weight. “Yeah,” he says, and the word barely manages to make it past his lips, daunted and small. 

Grian feels his heart slam sharply against his ribs at the confession.

“W—well,” Mumbo looks over at Grian, catching his gaze. He’s hesitant and unsure, but clearly willing and wanting to offer something.

Grian’s eyebrows pull into a frown. His emotions scream one thing at him, but every remaining shred of rationality screams something else. It’s an overwhelming cacophony and he knows he’s the one who’s expected to make the decisions—and then bear the weight of them going wrong—yet he finds himself feeling lost and adrift at this.

Mumbo holds his gaze for a moment longer, before he lets it swivel back to Scar. “We’ve actually never really talked to a vampire before.”

“No,” Scar shakes his head in immediate sympathy. “I wouldn’t imagine you would. They’re not a friendly bunch.”

Something about that statement stabs at Grian’s heart, his eyes still locked on Scar. “Then… Why are you talking to us?”

Scar’s gaze meets his and, again, it makes Grian's heart trip over itself. 

“Because I want friends?” he says, and it’s so open and vulnerable and his voice is thick with emotions, cracking and failing him at the end of his miserable sentence.

Grian takes a sharp breath, fumblingly attempting to remind himself that vampires are dangerous and they’re charmers and they’re manipulators and—

“You can’t mean that,” he says in the end, the words a little bit hoarse.

Scar blinks, confused. “What?”

Grian shakes his head vehemently. “You’re a vampire. We’re just food for you.”

Scar’s eyebrows twitch into a frown, before they smooth out and his face stretches into a smirk. “You do have faces, don’t you? I told you I don’t eat anything with a face.”

“But you could, you know,” Mumbo steps in, “rip the face off or something, as you said.”

Scar’s gaze anchors into his, a displeased curl to his mouth. “I don’t eat my friends.”

“But we’re not friends,” Grian chimes in.

“We could be,” Scar suggests easily, unaware of how threatening that sounds.

(... tbc?)

------- as the title states, this is a wip of a potential story that was put on the backburner because my hands are full. if you want to know more about what kind of things are meant to happen in this au (atm it's just a collection of ideas, rather than any specific outline), or are curious about anything else, feel free to ask! and let me know what you think about it so far &lt;3

if you're curious where this au came from, i recommend you to watch random encounter's "resident enis" videos (there are two). i'm sure you'll see my vision. (the line about not eating anything with a face is there kjxnbkj.)

this was written on a whim and for the longest time, i kept calling it "silly vampire scar au" (in the spirits of resident enis), even though i know the au devolves—as per usual—into heavier topics and angst. it's set in a world riddled with monsters, it's a survival story, pretty much.

fun fact: the working title of this au is called "Silly Vampire Mr GoodTimes"

i need a better name for it though, "vampire scar au" is so generic, and sure it does have a vampire scar in it, but it's not exclusively about him... but i have no idea what else to call it/how to title it (rip) (pls help-)

[kaihuntrr]

part thirty/closing remarks: author's closing notes

Ending notes to the fic before it returns on the 27th of November!

Hello! Kai, speaking here, post-birthday time (though I have a lot of commitments to do for the upcoming days, haha)! Technically it’s still the 18th in some other parts of the world, so it’s still technically my birthday, so I’m happy to say that Act I is well and truly over. This has been SUCH a while ride and I’m excited to embark on the next one. Now that I’m talking about it, I’d like to be a little mushy about my feelings on it since I’ve been having so much fun writing it. 

Truely, The Sea Prince was just meant to be a personal project of mine that I thought I could just scatter bits and pieces of over on tumblr to see if people actually wanted to get interested in it. I didn’t expect gaining friends and having a bunch of people really get invested with what I have! Still, I’m happy to have gotten a strong audience, and I hope the next act is welcomed with open arms. 

With some tentative planning, Act II is due to set sail on November 27th! 

This is so my co-writer and I can build up a bulk of edits and backlogs for the fic to keep that consistent, every-other-week schedule! It also just so happens that a new life series is around the corner, so perhaps it’ll help stoke some future things for acts III to V? We shall definitely see! 

Anyway, that’s enough rambling from me. Before I go, I want to give out a short excerpt of the prologue for Act II, just so you all have something to chew on before the upcoming Life Series! <3 Take care everyone, and I’ll see you on the 27th, should everything go according to plan! (If not, best to check out tumblr, but I’ll do my best to keep on schedule <3)

———

Another day, another perfect time to set sail.

Another chance to strike at the beasts that terrorized the people.

Grian stood proudly at the bow, facing the large iron gate in the distance. He saw the large shadow cast by the stone walls, its darkness providing a sense of safety to the town’s citizens with  a glint of the canons that adorned the top. It was a ready defense from any invading monsters, though they never dared to swim close to the islands. Maybe those monsters had some intelligence after all if they knew to stay away from the kingdom. They were protected by the king, the navy, and the hunters, each one ensuring humanity could live and thrive within the walls. It was good. It was perfect. 

It was home. 

It was going to be another exciting day. The crew planned to sail off into the sea, to find some beasts to kill, and to return to the love and warmth of the people and recover. Prepare, leave, kill, return, rest, then repeat. The simple, monotonous life of a hunter was easier said than done. A lot of hunters risked their lives every day to keep the people safe and sound. It was one of the most noble deeds a person could do in their life- it was even more noble to be acknowledged by the king himself. 

One day, this crew was going to earn the king’s approval. They had already slain small packs of those disgusting monsters, an impressive feat compared to the one or two beasts other crews their age had taken down. It was only a matter of time before the king addressed him, his brothers, and their crew. Then, they’d be hunters for the king– better than all the rest! It was going to be one of the best days of their lives, he just knew it. 

After all, he was the cunning Grian Solidarity. He was the youngest of his family and had the biggest hunger to prove himself on the wild seas. He and his brothers had made this crew not too long ago, and with how much money they’d been raking in, they just had to be the best out of all the people their age! The amount of people who had looked down on them for just being green, overeager upcomers wasn’t surprising, but Grian could bet those people were eating their own insults now. They just had to be!

Grian rested his hands on the railing, breathing in the fresh air, and hummed in delight. The ship was prepared to set sail and the others would likely return before the gates were scheduled to open. He’d done his part- checking on the weapons and restocking the ship with ammo was pretty easy when he was with Mumbo and Scar- so he had the luxury of sitting back, relaxing while waiting for the others to get on board–

“Grian?” He jumped at the sound of his name. He turned around to see Joel looking around, worried. “Have you seen Jimmy? I haven’t seen him anywhere.” Grian frowned, suddenly concerned.

Jimmy had been acting weird lately. Not only had he gotten that flower tattoo out of nowhere, but he’d been acting a lot more aloof on their hunting trips too. He’d been acting like that for a couple of months at least. He had been pretty scared of the ocean before, when they were younger, but a little exposure therapy didn’t hurt and he’d been fine. It also wasn’t the first time that he had wandered around like this- but he usually came back well before the ship would set sail.

Grian hummed, trying to recall if he had seen his brother in the past few… hours, probably. He ran through where he’d last seen the other members of their crew. He’d seen Cleo hanging around with Mumbo, Scar and Bdubs were doing something together, and Lizzie was out in the port talking to Martyn before he was due to set off with the Kestrels. Grian remembered catching Joel glancing at Lizzie a dozen times earlier, silently wishing she could join them on their hunts. “...No, I haven’t,” he finally said, putting a hand on his chin. “Any idea where he’d be?”

“No, that’s why I was asking you in the first place…,” Joel grumbled. “He’s probably in the harbor somewhere, let’s go look for him.”

“But I just got comfortable…,” Grian jokingly complained. One sour look from Joel made him roll his eyes and relent. Jimmy knew this town like the back of his hand, just like the rest of them. He wasn’t lost, Grian was sure of it. “Fine. But Tim’s probably just wandering around again. You know how he is.” He shrugged. Joel made a small frown and sighed, but followed Grian as the two descended from the ship and into the hustle and bustle of the port town behind them.

To be continued in Act II: Bait.

[kayawolfhorse]

Once Upon a Player’s Dream

My piece for @hermitseasonzine! Check out the full zine here.

—☾—

Chaos has already broken loose by the time Gem and Oli round the bend of the path. Across the way, the evening sun illuminates Gem’s fellow hermits as they leap between the broken planks of the shattered bridge in front of the rift-less fort. Shrouded in the shadow of the cliff the fort is built into, her fellow emperors try to stop them.

Maybe this wasn’t the best time to take the long route, Gem thinks, giving Oli a shrug before spreading her wings and soaring over the water, landing in the center of the fray.

The mayhem in the fort surrounds Gem from all sides. To Gem’s left, Pearl thrusts her sword toward Lizzie, who jumps back with the distinct non-reaction of every self-respecting cat, and to her right, Oli swoops in and immediately goes after Jevin with a yell. fWhip and Jimmy stand side-by-side in front of the stone facade they’d erected in front of the rift, swatting away any hermit that comes close enough.

“Let us leave!” Grian shouts, swerving to avoid Shubble, who holds her staff outstretched at her side to block as much of the way as she can.

“We don’t want you to leave!” Oli says, leveling his guitar at a rapidly approaching False, before thinking better of it and scampering closer to fWhip.

Not wanting to be left out of the action, Gem whacks a few hermits and emperors alike with the flat of her blade, earning yelps of surprise, but no one really fights back against her. Gem’s sword meets Grian’s when she swipes at him, and confusion plays across his face when he looks up to see her at the end of it. Remembering the character she’s currently playing, Gem backs off with a cheeky grin.

Seemingly as quickly as it started, the skirmish ends. The hermits retreat back to the bridge, a potion thrown in their wake—weakness, by the smell of it—and the emperors gather along the top of the fort, Gem perching on the corner of the wall.

Grian holds his hands up in front of him, dropping his shoulders. “Let’s open the dialogue first. Guys, I can’t stress how much we need to leave.”

Oli’s melodramatic wail is drowned out by fWhip exclaiming, “You built a thing that’s trying to blow up the world! You gotta get rid of the thing that’s trying to blow up the world!”

“No, it’s not going to blow up the world,” Grian attempts to placate, with little success.

“You can’t leave that here!” Shubble protests.

“It’ll kill us all!” Sausage says.

“Grumbot didn’t say anything about blowing anything up,” Grian says.

Hand against his forehead, Oli cries out, “He said he hated the arts!”

“He said he had no money for the arts, which is different,” Grian says, lifting a brow.

With a huff, Oli says, “Well, that’s also bad.” Giggles break out on both sides.

Sobering up, Grian tries again. “If you could just remove a couple blocks of stone, we’ll go on through and be out of your hair!”

From where he’s stood on one of the deepslate supports, Jimmy shakes his head and clicks his tongue, hat slung low over his eyes. Gem supposes the look is meant to come across as intimidating, but the shiny leather of the brim just makes him appear all the more toy-like.

“Jimmy,” Grian warns as Jimmy glides down to the bridge, stopping blocks away from where Grian stands.

Turning back to the emperors, Jimmy says, “Guys, just let me get up on their level.”

“Get up on their level, yeah,” Joel repeats in a mutter around barely suppressed laughter, placing a block of quartz between Jimmy and Grian. Jimmy hops up on it with the solemnity of someone in a far less ridiculous position.

“There we go, okay.” Grian shrugs and nods, crouching slightly to be eye-level with Jimmy.

“You, my friends, are not going anywhere,” Jimmy declares in a low tone. “Stayin’ right here. Havin’ fun with us. Look at us fun people!”

The hermits’ protests overlap in a symphony of tumult. Jimmy turns to Scar, and though Gem can’t see his face, she can imagine the pleading on it as he says, “Right, Scar? You think we’re fun?”

“Right, yeah, I’ve had an enjoyable time!” Scar says with a tilt of his chin. “But I’m ready to go home now.” Grian snorts and Jimmy sputters something unintelligible, and Gem tunes out the conversation with a hum as the argument continues.

Something shiny catches the corner of Gem’s eye. Glancing down, she spots Bdubs’ gleaming glowstone cloak, its owner quietly scaffolding up the side of the cliff the fort sits upon. Scanning the crowd on the bridge, it seems only Pearl has noticed Bdubs, and when Pearl’s eyes lift to meet Gem’s, Gem gives her a wink.

When Bdubs is close enough that Gem can make out the individual fragments of glowstone on his cloak, Grian shouts, “Break in Bdubs, break in!”

Leaping over the space between his scaffold tower and the wall, Bdubs charges into the fort, the rest of the hermits quick to pour in through the gates. Mayhem erupts once more; someone clangs the bell hanging outside of the gate in repeated, rapid succession. With ringing ears and amused curiosity, Gem watches as the fight unfolds.

“We’re a team! I’m a part of your church!” Oli persuades Bdubs, even as he chases after him with a sword. Bdubs runs into Joel, and Oli is able to get a hit on him, Bdubs’ inventory exploding onto the floor as Oli gasps, then cheers, “I killed a god! I killed a god!”

Someone manages to carve a person-sized gap through the back wall, the shimmering purple of the rift spilling out from within. A pitfall activates in front of it, and both several hermits and emperors fall in, but it acts merely as a deterrent, and it isn’t long until all but a couple hermits are through.

The chaos settles like dust in a windstorm, which is to say, not at all.

A TNT rocket is fired at Grumbot and fails to go off, and Pix flies up to manually light it, all while Grian fruitlessly tries to stop the whole endeavor, before Scar drags him through the rift. As it turns out, destroying Grumbot doesn’t close the portal, and the emperors promptly decide to jump in, whoops of anticipation following them through and disappearing as they do.

When it’s finally, finally quiet, Gem chuckles to herself. The server is empty, save for Joey, who’s run off to probably blow something up (and possibly False. Gem can’t quite tell what’s up with False, whether her fellow hermit is roleplaying like her or if there’s two of them entirely.) Taking flight, Gem sets off for Dawn.

The moon has just started its ascent when Gem reaches her kingdom. Touching down, Gem goes straight for her sunset-roofed house, stripping off her armor and crown before settling into bed.

“Chaos and happiness, chaos and happiness,” she murmurs to herself as her eyes drift shut, sinking into a player’s dream of chaos, happiness, and mega builds. Stars twinkle against the void behind Gem’s eyelids. Reaching out, she touches the light she knows will bring her home.

When she wakes, Gem’s vision is filled by the prismarine ceiling of her Hermitcraft storage room. Kicking back the covers and giving a quick stretch, Gem swaps her princess dress for her elven attire, straps on an elytra, and soars into the new day to find her friends.

[alittlebitofwonk]

Have a writing piece from an AU I’ve been working on.

"ՏԾ ՌԹՏԹ ɧԹՏ ՌԾ ɿԺȝԹ աɧԹԵ ԵɧȝՎ'Րȝ ԳԾɿՌԳ ԵԾ ԺԾ աɿԵɧ ɧɿʍ."

"ՇԾՐՐȝՇԵ. ՄՌԲԾՐԵՄՌԹԵȝʅՎ."

"աȝ'Րȝ ՏԾ ԲՄՇƙȝԺ."

Grian has no idea what these beings are saying, but he has the distinct idea that they’re talking about him. He’s pretty sure they’ve been talking about him since he first woke up to their awed faces staring over him, making him a little self conscious. Were his feathers crooked, or something?

Ever since he woke up, still injured from the crash, they’ve been marveling over him. Over his double set of wings that sprouts from his back. Over the scaly black cartilage that covers his fingers and much of his feet and his cheekbones. Over the feathers that hide and protect his ear canals. Over his arched, taloned feet designed to perch on branches. Over… well, over everything about Grian, really. Which is funny, because they’re the weird ones. No feathers, no external cartilage, flat feet… But they’re similar, too. Their skin is the same, and they have hair too. They’re bipedal, like most of the aliens in the Galactic Confederacy.

Of course, this raises a whole other set of questions about the evolution of life that has already been considered for years. Evolution seems to favor certain traits for intelligent life, even this far from home. Grian has so many questions.

A shame they can’t understand each other.

Grian’s picked up little things along the way, learned bits and pieces of their language over the last month or two. Like their word for “food” or “help” or “water”. He know their names, too. At least he assumes that when they pointed at themselves and repeated the same word over and over that they were telling Grian their names.

Currently, he’s sitting on a metal table in the ship’s laboratory. It’s a little rudimentary, compared to the stuff back home, but most of it does the job. The female (? that’s an assumption on Grian’s part, he’s not sure how gender and sex work in these individuals), who calls herself Pearl, has used a swab to take samples from his mouth, and is currently oohing and aaahing at them beneath a microscope. Grian’s no scientist, so he has no idea what’s so cool about some cells from his cheek. They’re just cells. Impulse, the captain and one of two males(?), is currently scowling at a tablet.

Just as Pearl is eyeing the feathers on the end of Grian’s tail (and no WAY is he letting her pluck him like common poultry!), the door to the lab opens and the smaller of the two males, Tango, waltzes in, whistling. Grian instinctively whistles a little tune back in his home language, and Tango grins widely at him. It’s not the first time he’s done it, but the creatures who pulled him from the wreck are amazed regardless.

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 30]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 30 - Grian's immunity is not what it seems, three's a crowd, and Scar needs to decide what, exactly, his priorities are.

📝 Words: 9244

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 30 on AO3

—

He untangles himself from Grian reluctantly, reassuring him with a quiet, “I’m gonna talk to Pops for a minute.”

It takes a bit of convincing to dislodge Grian’s grip, but Scar manages it with some finagling, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before he makes his way across the shack to where Pops has set down his things.

“What’s up?” he asks, affecting a tone that he hopes comes off as casual and not confrontational.

“‘What’s up?’” Pops repeats, incredulous. “What’s up with this guy, Wheels?”

Scar tries not to take it personally. Tries not to bristle too aggressively in response.

“I told you about him already—he’s the one I’d been traveling with.”

If anything, Pops does not look less reassured by that, the volume in his tone raising loud enough to be heard easily across the room. “You mean your ex? The one you said cheated on you?”

Scar flinches, not daring to turn around and check what Grian’s reaction is. Instead, he steps closer to Pops, lowering his voice in the hopes that the other man will follow his lead. “Yeah, but we’re over that now. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Pops says, clearly not agreeing at all, his voice still loud and carrying. “Didn’t you say he got bit? That he fucking died?”

Scar struggles under the aggressive scrutiny of Pops’ question, casting his eyes over to where Grian is sitting, obviously listening in on them.

Silence hangs heavy and strangely guilty in the room until Grian finally bends to it.

“I did, yeah.”

[ read more ]

—

I wonder how Pops will fare now that Grian has joined the group. Probably well, I bet. I'm sure it will be fine.

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)