Iskall's been waiting to get revenge for his first attempt at getting the tag, and this lil trap was simply perfect! That he succeeds and the tag is now his is no surprise, but what is one is Grian’s reaction to the trap itself.
The aftermath of it is not nearly as sweet as he’d expected it to be, but Grian needs a friend and that’s exactly what he’ll be.
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Inspired by the scenes when Grian loses the tag to Iskall, but a more dramatic and angsty re-telling with a lot of soft friendship feels as well.
He’d been waiting. And waiting. And waiting some more.
Honestly, what could possibly take Grian so long to come by his own base?
He grumbled and got up from his minecart, glancing around the row of hoppers and furnaces. The words on signs labeling the input and output flow of items had started blurring together about an hour ago, and not because of a lack of sleep. Unlike some hermits, he could respect a somewhat good resting schedule.
He knew to take care of himself, thank you very much! Unless he got into a mood and just kept working until he was dizzy, of course, and he’d have to listen to the other hermits’ mother-henning rants like they didn’t do the same, and one of them would supervise him and make sure he took care of himself, and ugh.
He sighed and resigned himself to more waiting.
Iskall grinned as he watched through the window as the other Hermit rushed back to his base. The open shock on Grian’s face was priceless and he felt vindicated for his first attempt at getting the Tag. Which he had on a finger, spinning it with a self-satisfied grin like the fox that got the chicken. Heh, Poultry Man, he internally snickered and his grin got impossibly bigger.
As Grian finally reached the broken window, he could finally hear him. The poor guy was breathing heavily and muttering something that was too quiet for Iskall to make out. The blond climbed through, not even noticing the other man at the edge of the blown wood floor. He glanced around astonished, first at the window, then at the floor and the walls and stepped through the gap in the glass, almost stumbling in, and finally Iskall could hear him.
“My windows! My stuff!” His voice was so high pitched and Iskall burst into laughter, and wheezing.
At long last, Grian took notice of him.
“No, you didn’t!!” Grian whisper-shouted, tone slowly falling back into its usual pitch.
Although disbelief was still present in his voice, laughter began cracking through, and he looked like he was fighting back a smile.
“Hello!” Iskall said, grin ever-present and Tag still spinning.
“Hello!” He got back, but the blonde’s attention quickly switched to the items still scattered on the floor.
Grian began jumping around, grabbing them as fast as he could and shoving them in his inventory, all the while mumbling ‘No no no’. His voice started to bounce from normal to high-pitched and back every few words. All that was followed by a half-manic sounding giggle and Iskall could barely keep himself from completely crumbling to the floor.
“Revenge at last!” the Swede teased, not wasting any time flexing and waving the Tag in Grian’s face.
The look on his friend’s face almost had him on the floor again with smugness and laughter.
“Ohhhh, he’s got it!!” Grian said to himself and the brunet swiftly perked up at that, starting to play around with the accursed Tag. “Using Mumbo’s messaging system-“ he cut himself off, shock still present. “Oh my goodness…” he breathed, staring wide-eyed at Iskall.
“I’ll help you, G, don’t worry!” Iskall replied instead, smirking.
He was definitely going to help him repair everything, he wasn’t a griefer nor a cruel person after all.
“You’ll help me?” Grian asked back, half grin present in his voice. “I don’t think I want your help!” he said, smile wide.
He slowly sorted through his inventory, ignoring the man standing on the intact part of his floor.
“I don’t think I want your- I don’t think I want my-“ he repeated, and finally turned back to Iskall, “I don’t think I need your help!” he shot back at him, still somewhat in shock and slightly amused.
He continued mumbling for quite a bit, but Iskall was a bit further from him, playing around with the Tag and jumping around the base. Grian would occasionally look up at him from his monologue, probably promising revenge, and Iskall would struggle not to crack up again. He was only able to discern random words and sounds as the other vented out his disgruntlement, but went back when he realized his pumpkin pies were the ones floating in a pile on the floor.
“Waaait a minute! Those are my pumpkin pies!” he laughed.
Grian looked up at him from the mess of items on the floor and sticked out his tongue.
“Bounty of war!” His friend said and returned to surveying the extent of the damage the explosion had caused. “Look at this! The observer track going all the way up to the ceiling…” He trailed off, half in awe and half in displeasure.
Then, he glanced at the end of it all, at the bell that had been resounding in Iskall’s brain for hours on end. The whine in his voice when he spoke up again was a both surprising and hilarious and Iskall grinned at him.
“I feel so betrayed! I feel so betrayed!” Grian murmured, still sorting through his inventory, throwing stuff around. “I thought- I thought that Mumbo- I thought that Mumbo sent me a message!” He said, voice still slightly high and full of disbelief.
It was hilarious to Iskall, who somehow managed to not utter one sound that entire time, holding back giggles like a child with their hands full of cookies.
Until Grian looked up at him, eyes wide and glossy, the whiny tone making space for a small little hitch and a slight breathlessness that made him straighten up almost immediately.
“Did-“ Grian tried, “Did M-Mum, Mumbo even-?” He took a breath, trying to calm down, “Did Mumbo even send that message?” He finally asked.
Iskall tried not to frown, tried to pass the seed of alarm growing in his chest off, and answered honestly.
“No,” He began, somewhat hesitant, watching Grian’s face fall, smile, and amusement dissipating, “ Ehm, that was me.”
When Grian crumbled to the stone underfloor, he realized his gut hadn’t been lying.
Something was wrong. Something that run deeper than just a trap message and a bit of property damage.
He rushed to him, kneeling down, feeling at a complete loss. The sudden change in mood had him off balance and he tried to understand how to piece together the puzzle pieces he’d not known he’d been gathering.
When Grian burst into tears and half-intelligible sentences, he pulled him close.
He lifted him up, slowly and steadily, barely feeling the other’s weight, and carried him to the still intact parts of the wooden floor. He settled the both of them against the wall and hugged him tightly, letting him sob into his vest and hoodie.
“The worst thing ever is that Mumbo’s not messaging me!” his friend wailed, “He’s- he’s not even saying hello or replying to mine or at least-“ he sobbed, curling himself as small as he could be and Iskall’s heart clenched painfully.
He knew Mumbo was scarcely using the messaging tunnel, the man himself had told him. But he hadn’t thought it would mean so much to Grian, and, most likely, Mumbo hadn’t either. If he’d known, the moustached man would have been bending backwards to send messages to their friend until the tunnel was full and bursting with them.
He hummed, a deep and soft sound, rubbing Grian’s back and letting him lean on him for as long as he needed.
He knew Grian needed to let it out, to empty the hurt from his heart and drain the tears in his eyes.
It could have been a minute or it could have been an hour, but at some point, his sobs slowed, his hiccups stopped. Though he didn’t lift his head from Iskall’s shoulder and his breathing was still heavy and his face was still red and hot, he seemed calmer.
As he hugged Grian closer still, he felt him shift, and a soft and sudden tingling in the air he’d long since learned to associate with magic made him loosen his hold on the smaller man. In the corner of his eye, he saw a magnificent pair of wings flash into existence, attached to Grian’s back.
The builder tried flapping them instinctively, but, slightly trapped as they were between the two of them and the wall, they only managed a short and jerky beat. They settled quickly after that, one curling around Grian’s free side and the other wrapping around Iskall as he briefly lifted his back from its slumped position against the wall.
Despite them being in one of their smaller forms, they still almost fully enclosed around the two of them. Iskall smiled fondly at Grian, though he knew the other wouldn’t see it. The builder had been them with the Hermits for years now, and still showed some reticence of having his wings out in the open.
This, however, this instinctual wish for comfort that came from inside Grian, not only let loose in front of Iskall, but around Iskall too, warmed him up like a sweet cinnamon roll fresh out of the oven. He hugged the other tighter, sighing into his soft hair and felt, in response, a brief tightening of the feathers around him.
“It’s just such a little thing, we see each other every few days and talk and work and whatnot, so I shouldn’t have any reason to think he’s ignoring me or something…” Grian sniffled, “But I can’t help it. It makes me so upset, I hate it, Iskall.” He said, voice hushed and high, and he curled up against the older man’s chest more, somehow finding more space to burrow into, as if Iskall hadn’t all but crushed him in the hug.
“Oh G…” the Swede sighed. “It’s the little things that do us in, I guess.” He said and thought back to a certain breakdown episode from way back in the days of Sahara. He slowly rubbed up and down Grian’s back, careful around his wings, trying to offer some comfort beyond just words. “I don’t think he’s ignoring the messages intentionally, though. He’s probably being a spoon again, honestly.”
And he was, but Iskall figured the two needed to talk about this together rather than through a messenger.
He felt the other nod slowly against his shoulder and sighed. When Grian tensed at the sound of it, he squeezed him tightly but carefully, and relief coursed through his veins when the other relaxed against him completely.
“Maybe we should go and get a bit of revenge by giving him a dose of his own medicine.” Iskall fumed, but both of them knew it was mostly for show. Mostly.
Iskall would probably not actually dish out any punishment to Mumbo, since it wasn’t exactly his, or anyone’s, fault, but a few pranks and traps here and there wouldn’t see too out of place, he mused.
Grian laughed wetly, wiping away any stray tears still clinging to his eyelashes. He probably guessed the line of thought that Iskall’s mind had followed.
“Maybe.” He grinned up at his friend.
Iskall shifted, trying to find a more comfortable spot in the hard wood floor, thankful for the soft feathers at his back and then grinned, distracted. He glanced down at the man leaning against him and poked his side, careful not to tickle him.
“I could totally sic EX or Joe on him though,” he teased, mirth overflowing from his words. “Maybe even X or False.”
After all, it was known server-wide just how protective Joe, False and quite a few other hermits could get, as well as the fact that EX was oddly protective of the creator of one of his best friends.
He felt Grian jump and wheezed, totally expecting the reaction.
“You wouldn’t!” the blonde hissed, mortified. His eyes were wide and red-rimmed, and Iskall had to stop himself from cooing at his adorable friend.
“I would and you know that they would!” he laughed, “They’d absolutely super mega would! EX especially!”
“Oh goodness, please don’t!” Grian whined and blushed up to the tips of his ears, hiding his head in the brunet’s vest while Iskall continued to laugh. “Noooo!” he giggled, now trying to rise up from the floor and escape Iskall’s hug.
The redstoner wouldn’t let go, however, determined to tease his friend back into a brighter mood. He held on and they both ended up tumbling on the floor, Grian wheezing as the other landed right on top of him, squishing him.
They burst out laughing, wheezing for a few good minutes down there.
After calming down, Iskall shifted and Grian let him lift his arms up and around his neck as he looked at him curiously. The redstoner suddenly heaved them both up, the flier hanging from around his shoulders only by his arms and Iskall’s hands around his waist to support him like a sack of potatoes. It made Grian burst into laughter again, barely remembering to keep his grip on the other's hoodie.
Iskall grunted and grumbled about his weight, but held on to him nonetheless.
“Couldn’t be too comfortable for those wings of yours to be squished by all of these mega, nay- OMEGA muscles, ey?” Iskall grinned down at his friend.
In response, Grian grinned back brightly, unabashedly fluttering his wings and remained hanging, feet even lifted away from the floor.
Iskall sighed, both exasperated and fond.
“Okay, you little nuisance, let’s sit down to eat and then tuck you into bed, you’ve had enough excitement for one day.” He said, and turned to half-walk, half-waddle to the center of Grian’s hobbit base.
He knew his friend hadn’t exactly had much comfort in mind when he made the base, but he figured the nice cozy little space that Professor Beak had would make for a much better sitting and relaxing place.
“I’m not a little kid, Iskall!” Grian pouted up at him.
“Says the pouting man hanging to me like a little baby.” Came the good-natured snarky response from the redstoner.
Grian resisted sticking out his tongue, and instead sighed and snuggled closer, tucking his head onto Iskall’s shoulder.
The older man said nothing, stopping only to instinctively shift the smaller man into a better position, higher too, so that his legs could just stand freely instead of being held up. He carefully tuck his wings closed as well, smoothing any stay feathers that had been disturbed, and felt the soft feathers brush against the arm he used as the other's support.
“Do they bother you?” Grian mumbled, face half-hidden and sleepy.
“No, no.” Iskall said, smiling down reassuringly. “I really like them, G. Maybe you should let them out more often, stretch them out properly instead of using the Elytras.” Iskall continued, before quietly adding, “The others are totally fine with them. Bet they’d love to see you with them more often too.”
Grian hummed, a small and thoughtful sound, before flapping his wings briefly and shoving his face into Iskall’s vest.
“Stay with me?” he asked, voice small, but mostly sleepy. “Please?”
Iskall blinked down at him, and smiled softly, though the other couldn’t see it.
“Of course, G. Rest well.” He whispered, knowing that Grian had already slipped into slumber and instead turned towards the stairs leading to the blonde’s bedroom.
A nap sounded fantastic and he wouldn’t say no to his friend anyway, especially when he needed some well-deserved comfort.
End.
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Hi all! I decided to try my hand at posting a fic on tumblr as well. I’m really new at this, so if anyone has any advice I’d be grateful for it!
This is part 2 of my 20-part (20 for now, might add to the number later) series which will feature mostly Grian and Mumbo, as well as mostly implied Grumbo named Putting the Ever in Forever. Right now there’s only 2 parts up, with the others still very much in the planning zone. There’s a lot more details on the ao3 version, but I welcome any and all questions about it both here and there!
I’ll be adding a link to the ao3 version in a reblog in a tiny bit, or you could use the link in my bio!
