CheenRocks
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Bookmarked by CheenRocks
24 Feb 2026
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Summary
“Hi,” he greeted her, eyes twinkling in fond amusement.
He was alive.
Pearl pulled herself from his arms and wings, stepped back, and punched him in the face as hard as she possibly could.
Grian looked back up at her. She stared back, fist still clenched by her side.
“You deserved that,” She said, unflinching.
“…Yeah,” Grian agreed. “I probably did.”
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(or: Pearl joins Hermitcraft Season 8, where she learns her dead brother isn’t actually dead. She responds in the only reasonable way, really: by punching him in the face and then forcing him to talk about it over tea.)
Bookmarked by CheenRocks
24 Feb 2026
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Summary
The newest member of Hermitcraft has no mouth.
Or– well. He might have a mouth. But he also might not. No one’s really sure. There’s a betting pool about it, apparently, with a fair number of entries. Not that Mumbo’s checked, or anything, because it would be rude to speculate about a man’s mouth or lack thereof, but–
Okay. He’s checked.
(In which the existential status of Grian's mouth is in question, Scar and Cleo are shameless opportunists, Grian is a horrible chaos gremlin, and Mumbo is very, very confused.)
Bookmarked by CheenRocks
24 Feb 2026
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Summary
“XELQUA”, says one of the Watchers, the smaller of the two, wearing black-purple. “AT LAST, WE HAVE FOUND YOU.”
“–all day long!” finishes Grian, cheerily, and caps the verse with a bright, “Fuck off!” He extracts his hand from Pearl’s to summarily give both Watchers the finger.
“YOU WILL COME WITH US,” says the second, slightly taller Watcher.
“Eat shit and die,” says Grian, promptly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
(In which the Watchers come to retrieve Grian from the void, but are foiled by the twin powers of teeth and cursing. And friendship. But mostly teeth.)
Bookmarked by CheenRocks
24 Feb 2026
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Summary
“You’re wondering about the scars,” says Grian, quietly, out of the blue.
Mumbo freezes with his hands buried wrist-deep in Grian’s feathers, right at the point where all three sets of wings converge on his back. He’s supposed to be helping with Grian’s preening – though it’s devolved somewhat into petting. Devolved quite a lot into petting, now he thinks about it. Whoops. He doesn’t think he’s removed a loose feather or piece of dirt in at least five minutes.
It’s a privilege, he knows it is, to be invited to do this. To be allowed to touch the places Grian can’t reach. To be allowed to see Grian with his shirt off, his back turned, his wings spread wide and vulnerable. He shouldn’t be getting distracted by how soft the feathers are, this close to Grian’s spine. He should be focusing on his job.
(In which Mumbo helps Grian out with his wings, and learns a little more of his past in the process.)
Bookmarked by CheenRocks
24 Feb 2026