White fluffy balls of snow begin to fall as Grian flies over the chilly air towards his old witch hut, still having struggles with finding things inside his chest monster as usual. He had already dug through his mess of a storage system back at Dwayne as soon as they all came back from Empires through the Rift, but he couldn’t find it at all. Hopefully, he can finally find that thing in his old hut.
His gaze focuses on the soft colors of Scar’s pink tree, smiling that he’s near his destination. Don’t ask him how a cherry blossom manages to survive in this cold season. There’s probably some kind of elf magic involved.
Anyway! He’s getting distracted. Where was he? Oh, yes. He needs to find his scarf.
He spots the teal copper roof and steers to the right but from the corner of his eye, he notices a certain scarred man coming out of the entrance of his cookie shop, wearing an apron. With a grin, Grian turns 180 degrees mid-air to switch directions and swoops down to land right behind Scar silently.
“Hello, Scar!” Grian greets gleefully.
“Whaaa—!” Scar squeals, hastily leaning a tray left and right to prevent the steaming cookies from falling before sighing in relief. “G-Grian? Oh, gosh. You scared me.” He turns to face Grian as he takes deep breaths.
“What’s that you got there?” Grian tilts his head to the side as he asks innocently like he did nothing wrong in his life, ever (because he didn’t).
“Oh, you mean this? It’s a batch of new samples of my Elven cookies for Christmas. Do you wanna try some?” Scar smiles as he explains before moving the tray closer to Grian.
“Can I?” Grian glances from the cookies to Scar’s bobbing head before going back down, looking at the different designs that vary from Christmas decorations to Christmas-themed Hermit heads.
Grian decides to take a Grian head-shaped cookie with a Christmas hat, and he takes half a bite out of the treat. He can taste the dark chocolate chips blending well with the strawberry from the hat, and the caramelised butter and sugar from the cookie itself.
Whoa, this is so good!
“Sooo, what do you think?” Scar smirks as he raises his brows repeatedly.
“This is actually delicious, Scar.” Grian hums as he continues to chew on the cookie.
“Yes! The new recipe of my delicious Elven cookies is a success!” Scar throws a fist above his head as he snickers.
“Say, what else did you add in this?” Grian looks at the cookie and raises a brow in question. “I can taste something, but I can’t tell what it is. It kind of tasted like—” The cookie in his hand distorts and his head feels as heavy as an anvil all of a sudden, making standing straight with balanced legs a tad difficult to maintain. “Wh-What’s g-going on?” He brings a free hand to his head as he moans weakly.
“It works!” Grian can hear Scar’s voice multiplying as he cheers, talking all at once like an echo.
“Scar? I don’t… feel so g-good.” Grian pants as his shaky hand drops the cookie to the dancing floor, bringing his hands to his knees for support.
Why did you give me this?
Grian’s own voice echoes in his head as he reminisces of a familiar situation occurring to him, but instead of a cookie was a bread given to him by one of his best friends (should he still call him that when all he did was hurt him?).
His body suddenly feels cold as he shudders, eyes widening in dread as he realises what’s happening to him.
“D-Did you p-poison me?” Grian slowly raises his head to glance in Scar’s direction as he asks, with his voice lower with repressed anger and betrayal.
“Well, yeah.” Scar shrugs. “You always do these pranks to me, so I say it’s about time for me to return the favor. Here, have this Christmas-shaped cookie. This’ll remove the effects of the poison instantly.” He explains whilst getting said cookie and hands it over to Grian’s direction.
Without a second to waste, Grian grabs the cookie a bit harder than expected and munches on the treat in a blink of an eye. As he swallows, he can already feel his head getting lighter and clear from the fog.
“Scar! You shouldn’t just spike someone’s food like that. It’s rude and now I have to find a way to pay you back.” Grian complains as he crosses his arms, hiding his trembling hands from sight whilst biting the back of his cheek from inside his closed mouth.
“Oh, no! Not again. I already have enough of you scaring me every time.” Scar chuckles, oblivious of Grian’s discomfort.
“Well, it was nice scaring you until you pranked me. Now I have to go and find my scarf ‘coz…” Grian slowly walks back as he remarks, shaking his voice and body to imitate being frozen from their surroundings before turning back to sprint to his witch hut.
“It was nice seeing you, Grian!” Scar’s voice fades the farther Grian gets and doesn’t turn back to see his reaction.
Grian clumsily lands in front of the entrance of his mega base with his scarf being wrapped around his neck, shutting the door behind him with a slam as his breath hitches. He wheezes loudly as he leans back for support whilst the tears he’s been holding back for who knows how long finally breaks through the dam. His wobbly legs finally give in and he slides down to the floor, hiding his soaked face to his embraced knees to muffle his sobs.
It''s okay. It’s fine.
He’s managed to keep it a secret from Scar and that’s what matters.
His high school experience of suppressing his panic attack in front of everyone else multiple times really comes in handy at times like this, so that’s got to be a plus.
Right?
Sam pointed the bloody knife to his face with a grin.
Grian breaks out of his cocoon as he unfolds one of his vibrant multicolored wings. With a trembling hand, Grian reaches for his secondaries very, very slowly.
Sam kept on telling him about how weird and crazy he was.
Grian wraps his fingers around a few blue feathers and pulls them out.
Sam demanded him to eat the plastic.
Rip!
Sam gritted his teeth as he shoved the plastic to his mouth.
Rip!
Sam pushed his fist further to his mouth, coughing vigorously by how the plastic clogged his throat.
Rip!
Sam pointed a gun towards him, and a clicking sound could be heard as he removed the safety lock.
Rip!
Sam flipped some of the furniture in his room when he refused to do what he said.
Rip!
Sam yelled as he pointed at the garbage bin, demanding him to get in.
Rip!
His voice was raspy from all the screaming, pleading to be let out of this basement after Sam locked him in.
Rip, rip, rip—
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The communicator rings over and over from inside Grian’s pocket, probably the Hermits replying from Xisuma’s message about a meeting to plan what to do this upcoming Christmas. Fortunately for him, he’s one of the people who read it the second it got sent, so he won’t be able to be late (hopefully). He stifles a yawn and rubs his eyelids as he treks the burning terrains of the Nether.
Once he can see the peaks of the Crastle, he hears various voices from ahead, causing him to increase his speed and meet the others.
“Grian’s here!” Grian can hear Bdubs’ voice yelling from the crowd inside the entrance.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“Gri, what took you so long? It’s been thirty minutes and everyone’s here but you.” Pearl pops out from the crowd as she walks towards Grian.
“Oh. Sorry, I overslept.” Grian lies with a small smile.
“Hmm. If you insist.” Pearl presses her lips before grabbing Grian’s wrist, pulling him with her as they go in.
He looks around and sighs in relief. He’s far from him for now.
After Grian’s arrival, Xisuma immediately begins with assigning who each other’s Secret Santa is by drawing lots. He pales when he reads the name in the paper over and over to clarify, immediately switching his expression back to a poker face as he pockets the paper. The meeting is followed by who will decorate a specific part of the shopping district, what will each Hermit bring during the event, and more.
Why does it feel like someone’s been watching him the whole time?
A couple of times Scar has been pushed off the Crastle later, all the Hermits dispersed from the premises as they all go their different ways to execute what they planned to do for the day. Grian is on his way out of the building (on foot, of course), but a voice calling out to him causes him to stop.
“Oh! Hi, Impulse. What’s up?” Grian turns and greets with a wave.
“Grian! Thank goodness you’re still here. Just the man I was looking for.” Impulse sighs as he stops in front of Grian.
"Is there something wrong, Impulse?" Grian tilts his head as he questions.
"Uh..." Impulse rubs the back of his head as he averts his gaze. "This may sound weird when I say that I''ve seen you not looking very well this whole meeting." Oh, so that explains the feeling of being watched. "A-Are you okay? You''ve been fidgety and constantly looking around your surroundings like someone''s about to get you." His brows furrow as he stares at Grian''s direction with wide eyes.
"I''m fine." Grian replies too quickly as he shrugs.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, nothing''s wrong." Grian retorts with his voice almost monotonic as he places his hands to his trouser pockets. "I''ve just been busy planning for the next section of my mega base."
"B-But what about your wings?" Impulse''s gaze moves down to where the edge of Grian''s wings are located, causing Grian to tuck them further out of sight in reflex. "Some of the feathers are—"
"It''s that time of the year, you know?" Grian twists his wrist for emphasis. "Feathers need to be molted once or twice in a year like Zed''s horns or our hair."
The deadly silence weighs over between them like gravity as the force is starting to get unbearable until Impulse opens his mouth.
"Oh. Right, right. Sorry about that." Impulse strains a smile and rubs the back of his head as he chuckles.
"Well, I better go now. There are still many things in the base that I need to take care of." Grian claps his hands as he starts to walk backwards away from Impulse.
"But—"
"Okay, Impulse. See you later, bye!" Grian intercepts as he turns around and runs away without hearing what his friend has to say.
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The coast is clear.
Grian sighs in relief as he runs to the Entity, unloading his Shulker boxes from his Inventory Bag and begins to move the materials to their respective chests in order to restock. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with a sleeve after a job well done. It''s been a while since he last restocked and he already took the profits last time, so he guesses it''s about time for him to do this.
Otherwise, he will lose his customers and he can''t have that. He wants his shiny blue rocks, after all.
With a nod of satisfaction, Grian takes and places his Shulker boxes back to the Inventory Bag, which is a small pouch with a magical void-like space to keep multiple items without worrying about the mass and passing of time to preserve them well. As he turns around, he''s face-to-face with the familiar emerald eyes and cheeky smirk.
"Scar!" Grian flinches. "Wh-What are you doing here?" His foot steps back in reflex.
He''s been doing everything he can to avoid this interaction for days, but apparently the universe has other plans.
"Can''t a man buy concrete for his build?" Scar places a few Shulker boxes to his Inventory Bag as he plants his fists to his hips. "It''s been a while since what—the cookie prank? When we last talked like this, G. How have you been?" He grins as he swings an arm around Grian''s shoulders.
Grian tries to suppress his body from jolting and trembling like a leaf as he strains a grin.
"Fine. Since we came back from Empires through the Rift, schedule''s been, uh, a bit busy when you''re not, er, working on your project for a month or so." Grian replies as he licks his lips.
"True, true." Scar bobs his head in agreement. "Speaking of which, I better go back to my amusement park then. The wonders that bring smiles on everyone''s faces won''t build themselves!" He leaves Grian''s side as he claps his hands whilst walking away. "See you around, Grian!" He waves a hand before propelling himself upwards with a rocket and gliding mid-air with the elytra.
When Scar is reduced into nothing but a dot in the sky, Grian releases a breath he''s unknowingly holding as he flops to squat on the ground with his butt, clutching his colorful green, yellow, red, and black jumper by his constricting chest as he gasps for air. He shuts his eyelids tightly as he can already feel the tears threatening to leave, slamming his head to the stone ground as a few sobs escape his cold, trembling lips.
Grian sways left and right as he walks the pathway to his huge base with unsteady legs, ignoring how his puffy eyes sting and how his throbbing head is bothering him after that embarrassingly long crying session. He''s lucky that it''s nighttime or otherwise, he has to deal with witnesses and spend more energy to lie, leaving him nothing to traverse the long way back.
He doesn''t really want anyone to know about this since he''s fine. Not just trying to convince himself, he''s actually fine. There''s no one hurting him and he''s safe. It''s simply his brain going bananas on him again. He just needs to deal with it until it passes.
His eyes blow wide at an idea, beginning to scamper around his chest monster and fetch himself a couple of scaffoldings. He places them in front of the entrance of his tower and starts to build them up, high enough to reach the rock nearest to the portal. He huffs and puffs as he makes his way up, finally getting a rest once he''s on top as he drags a sigh.
Grian repeats the process but this time, he''s scaffolding and heading towards the smallest rock at the farthest right of his base. He blocks the entrance he made behind him and leans back with a sigh of relief. Coming here would''ve been easier if he can use his wings or added connecting vines like how he did with the others.
He''ll take care of that later.
He walks to a couple of boxes being piled by the corner, rips the tape off of the top box and opens it to see a few bottles lined neatly together. He brings a hand over it and takes one bottle out.
He just needs to forget, that’s all.
"I was supposed to stop drinking since high school and managed to keep that promise for years." Grian speaks to the cold air as he stares at the bottle with a grimace. "But look at me now... breaking my down promise to myself." He huffs, walking to another corner to sit on the floor.
This is a much safer way than targeting my wings, he convinces himself.
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The soft purrs of Jellie fills the room as Scar gently scratches behind her ears, chuckling softly at the cute sight. He sits up from the comforts of his bed and stretches his arms above his head, popping these stiff joints. Well, he better get started before the day forsakes him again.
He slips on his orange vest, green scarf, and hard hat, placing Jellie on top of it as he leaves the giant treehouse and begins to take the scenic route.
It''s really nice for once and a while to view the beautiful builds being coated with the fluffy white snow. He can really feel that the Christmas spirit is in the air as he spots hanging Christmas lights flashing different colors to illuminate the area, and Christmas trees beginning to pop one after the other.
He laughs at how Jellie is swatting her paws from above his head as she tries to catch the snowflakes, but she clearly fails at how she releases a low-pitched meow to express her disappointment. He turns a corner and stops abruptly once he sees the familiar strawberry blonde hair wandering about the busy streets (well, not really since it''s currently only the two of them plus Jellie) of the shopping district.
"Hey, G! It''s good to see you again! It''s a miracle that I get to see you two times in a row despite our busy schedules." Scar gleams as he waves a hand overheard, carefully avoiding hitting Jellie while trotting towards Grian''s direction.
Grian gives no reply and seems to have not noticed Scar at all. Huh. Did he not say that loud enough?
"G! Grian, over here!" Scar waves his hand widely as he holds Jellie with his free hand to keep her on his head in place safely.
Still no response.
Come on, Grian. It''s really tempting to prank you if you''re like this early in the morning, he thinks to himself as he complains.
Once Scar is finally face to face with Grian, his avian friend still doesn''t react to recognize his presence. He waves a hand in front of him and frowns with the lack of response.
Should he tickle him?
As if a button has been pressed, Grian''s eyes suddenly blow wide as he slouches forward, resting his hands to his knees as he gags.
Oh, gosh!
No, ew!
Pixelated things are all over the grass.
Gross!
Scar scrunches his nose in disgust and begins to conjure up the thought like a mantra.
Grian is pooping rainbow water from his mouth, not those nasty things people need to pixelate.
Whew! That feels better.
He walks to Grian''s side and rubs the back of his friend with soothing circles, waiting for the rainbow water to fully come out of his system.
"There. Feel better?" Scar lilts along with Jellie''s concerned meow.
She''s such a sweetheart!
"Y-Yeah. I-I''m okay. Thanks." Grian stammers in a raspy voice as he continues to wheeze.
"Did you eat rotten flesh accidentally or something?" Scar jokes as Jellie meows in agreement.
"Uh, something like that." Grian mutters.
"Should I, uh, escort you back to your witch hut or floating rock?" Scar hums as he jabs a thumb to the said hut.
Grian slowly shakes his head in disagreement before gradually standing straight, albeit on wobbling legs.
"No, it''s okay. Thanks, Scar." Grian huffs as his eyelids droop.
"Okay." Scar''s shoulders slump in acceptance but Jellie''s drawn-out meows tell him otherwise. "Oh, I—Are you sure?" He furrows his brows, unsure of what to do in this situation.
"Yes." Grian''s reply comes out a little more forceful than Scar expects him to but ignores it.
"Okay. Just... Be careful." Scar sighs and cracks a small smile.
Grian nods before walking away from the premises, leaving Scar to stand alone with Jellie resting on top of his head like a bird on a bird''s nest.
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Grian exhales about the thought that Scar doesn''t suspect a thing. He''s just about to leave the shopping district after buying some painkillers without anyone knowing he was there in the first place, but his head just had to throb from the hangover and made it difficult for him to traverse when everything''s multiplying right before his heavy eyes. At least Scar''s the only one present there, so that''s a plus in his book.
He drops to his bed with his back, sighing in relief despite the discomfort from his wings that he can finally rest after the long trip back home. His gaze continues to stare blankly towards the plain ceiling, blinking slowly for once and a while as he feels like he''s about to fuse with the bed.
It''s a good thing Grian knows a thing or two about hiding and removing the scent of alcohol from him back when he was in high school. This will come in handy whenever he meets with the Hermits and won''t have to worry about them noticing it. He only needs to deal with the splitting headache, though, if he wants to at least have a coherent conversation with them to avoid suspicions.
Sam''s ear to ear grin revealed his sharp canines as he pulled out the bloody knife and ran a finger at the dull end.
His hand slowly reaches over a bottle that he brought with him earlier before leaving the rock, opening the lid and bringing it to his lips, downing the citrus flavor of the tequila brushing through his tongue. His vision begins to dance and giggles as he turns to the side, dropping the bottle somewhere on the floor and sees it rolling to the edge, dropping to the abyss of his rock before everything turns black.