Pearlescentmoon - Blog Posts

The sun and the moon ft skyduo!!

Loving the newest season of the life series so far. Loving the group-ups I think this is going to be a ridiculous and probably traumatic season…also loving how everyone looked at the teams and immediately went, ‘I love this group of people together, absolutely nothings going to go wrong here!’ TO EVERYSINGLW ONE!! I AM DYING😭

(Also also, Grian knowing the wildcards is sooo…watcher of him)

Boatem gang

YIPPEE MORE THEORIES :D also love the "can skizzpulse kiss yet" lmao

Hypno - You're welcome for the boob window ;) I thought he deserved it after looking at all the fanart. And yes, it is an interesting trio! There's a lot of unique combinations of people in our stories, so it's going to be very fun to write, and hopefully fun to read, too.

Also, not going to say if the journal is for Skizz or if he plans to share it with someone else, but like. Ask yourself: would Skizz talk/write to himself? (the answer is yes, he definitely would)

Are survivors a threat?? Would they be harder to kill??? Why would Skizz be thinking about all that is the real question... >:)

Martyn - I love MartRenDoc as a poly trio, my beloved (and yes, they totally would fight over Ren lol, despite him having two hands). Martyn being a 3 IS interesting, isn't it? I wonder why Skizz would've gotten that impression... (aka, I'm not going to give you any hints, but I LOVE that you noticed and want you to keep noticing things)

Gem - She's a warrior :D I mean, she's called Geminislay for a reason lol, not to mention the protective family (Girldad impulse is my favorite <3) Also just always keep in mind that Skizz's notes are just HIS thoughts and are more than capable of being wrong :)

Cub - Enkay and I actually discussed the lils having things like glasses and clothes and decided that they only get them if the Hermit created them, so the Assistants don't get glasses because Cub hasn't made them any lol (there are lils that have accessories though, as you'll see later)

Those last sentences are actually a very specific and important interaction in the Hermit's perception of Skizz, btw :)

SKULK CUBBBBBBB!! I really wanted convex, but I also adore any and all skulk creatures, so we just decided he gets both :D He and Scar have a very specific (and angsty) backstory to explain some of their notes (and it may or may not have something to do with their strange interaction Skizz described). That'll all be revealed in time

Pearl - that last line SHOULD scare you, and imo gives some of the most insight into Skizz's thoughts compared to the other secret notes. What exactly it means, I'm not telling (mainly because Enkay is obsessed with secrets even though I wanna spill them aaaaaall)

Lil creation is not something that happens naturally, I'll tell you that much. There's a reason that everyone on Hermitcraft has one

Joel - Him calling all of them Jeremy is my favorite, no comment on the abilities thing, and yes, Joel would commit crimes if Skizz tried to touch his tail.

B - IS he planning on escaping??? Why would he mention escape?????? ooOOOoOOOOooo the questions.......! Anyways, Enkay and I are still working on the exact map of Hermitcraft, but while there are lots of woods, it's not *completely* surrounded by forest. there is water, idk why you would mention him flying though, Skizz doesn't have wings! :)

There will be Jimmy and Skizz interactions!! There's a lot that needs to happen before then, but it's coming :D

Who hurt him indeed....

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Thanks you so much for your rambles!!! I adore them sooooo much, the theories make me so happy :D I feed off of people's thoughts and ideas

Lils au galactic translations and theories 2!

Here I am again, I will be translating days 8-14 of @enkays-den and @cannibal-walleye’s silly stupid lils au which I love dearly…

So, as usual, spoilers ahead, I don’t know if I’m gonna go in as much detail as last week’s, but we shall seeeeee

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/4663420

This group of hermits shows a bunch more relationships and oddities that Skizz is learning about, and we learn some… things about Mr. Enigmatic Skizzlypants

Can skizzpulse kiss yet

Day 8: Hypno

VI (6) Intentionally quiet, not shy.

A survivor in general, considering he sails and judging by the stories I heard.

Experienced with combat.

Don’t underestimate anyone here.

-First of all, love Hypno’s boob window Walleye that’s great

-Anyways, Hypno, Joey, and Joel is definitely an interesting trio. Is Lizzie an ocean creature? Maybe she follows them as they sail who knows

-I bet like… $2 that Joey’s first interaction with Skizz involved him flirting… it’s Joey c’mon

-“Don’t underestimate anyone here” is Skittle saying that to himself or does he intend to give this to someone for information? I’m probably overthinking it he’s probably just reminding himself but I’M JUST THINKING

-Are survivors a threat to Skizz? Harder to kill if he’s thinking of that…

Day 9: Martyn

III (3) very arts focused, no mention of fighting, but he definitely has a strong build from something.

Has a strong spirit, very confident.

No special abilities as far as I can tell.

-By the way Skizz writes the definition of polyglot down it makes me think he didn’t know the word beforehand, which it is a weird word so I guess if someone doesn’t know it that makes sense but Sizzle is Sizzle and I feel like he’d know that word… then again, I think too much.

-Ren, Doc, and Martyn are so silly, Ren has two hands and Doc and Marty will kill eachother for him anyway

-Martyn with a 3 is weird—but also, Skizz hasn’t seen any combat stuff from him. He may not know much combat or he does, and it might surprise Skizz at some point.

-“He definitely has a strong build from something” what does this man do… maybe it’s all the running around stage/j

Maybe he has some weird lore idk Martyn always has that stuff

Day 10: Gem

VIII (8) More skilled than Impulse in combat but no size or resistance advantage.

Probably not experienced in true combat.

Fae magic can only be used if making a deal, has no effect on combat.

Should be careful when speaking to her. 

Can become small and easily sneak around.

Can probably fly.

Impulse would probably kill or die for her.

-Fae Gem! Even without her magic (as long as Skizz chooses his words carefully) she’s ranked pretty high!

-If Skizz wants to take out Gem, he has to deal with dad and sister uh ohhh

I love girldad pulse

-Also, by true combat Skizz means fighting for harm or death according to Enkay, so Skizz doesn’t think Gem would know much on actual killing

-Even with that she’s still an 8, maybe cuz she’s Imp’s daughter Skizz thinks that she is very formidable (she probably is)

Day 11: Cub

VI (6) Seems pacifist, reported to not leave his lab very much.

Nevertheless, intelligent and perceptive.

Unknown how skulk infection could augment or disable vex powers.

Him and Scar kept asking very specific questions and looking at each other when they thought I wasn’t looking. I can’t tell if it’s because of whatever they think my history is or they’re suspicious.

-I love the stupid assistant doodle, I thought it deserved glasses (Enkay was HATING on it (meanie)/silly but I think it looks even more like it’d piss off Skizz)

-For the last sentences, I think scar was just being snoopy and a little suspicious but cub was really trying to figure out what Skizz’s deal was

Or they were actually both on the same page but who knows with the Convex boys

-I love skulk Cub

-Skizzy Wizzy doesn’t know what a firework is presumably, so we need a scene of Skizz seeing a firework show maybe that would make him less suspicious (or more because oh my god they have multicolored fire shooters or smth)

-We’ll see if Skizz ever learns the skulk history, whether that’s Cub’s personal history with the stuff or the actual history of skulk (assuming Skizz again does not know what it is) idk-

Day 12: Pearl

VII (7) Skilled in combat in human form.

Wolf form very large, strong, and fast. Smelling and hearing.

Maybe enhanced senses in human form.

Impulse would probably kill or die for her.

I don’t think I could hurt either of them.

-So the last line… it scares me, because either Skizz likes the daughters and doesn’t want to hurt them, OR because Impulse will kill for them, he can’t touch them

I told this to Enkay and just got-

Evil

-From “I’m not sure what their exact ages are, since they have lils” I don’t know if this has been addressed and I’ve definitely not been told, do lils like… spawn at a certain age? Or do you just gain the ability to summon some at a certain age? Interesting… so if you don’t make it past like age 20 you can’t come back! Dead and gone loser LMAO

-I love the Poppyseed doodle, since these notes are in like ink or pencil or something I wonder if Enkay just doesn’t erase any mistakes, makes it more authentic Skizzy that way

Day 13: Joel

VII (7) Genuinely confident in his abilities.

Strong build, plus sailing requires being good at a lot of different things.

No visible powers, but tanukis are known for having special abilities of any kind.

-As an avid Joel fan (even though I do not talk about him ever) I love the singular Jeremy he would definitely do that

They look like a Jeremy anyway

-I wonder if Joel does have any powers, or if he is just good at combat enough to compensate for that. But Skizz does say that tanukis can have special abilities—whatever they are—so we shall see

-Swizzle I think if you ever touched Joel’s tail he would just try to murder you LOL

Day 14: B

VII (7) Non combatant, usually only in or near the forest and easy to keep an eye on, but still great for spying.

Don’t think the cookie thing was a poisoning attempt, they already knew my allergies by then.

How many creaklings are in this area?

Sprites are very small, again a good spy.

Don’t escape through the woods.

-Skizz planning on escaping at some point? Or is it if he needs to escape, don’t go through the woods? I don’t know the map of the hermit settlement but I feel like there would be woods all around. Probably if skizz needed to escape, his best bet would be the water or even flying out.

But he doesn’t need to escappeeeee idiot…

-I hope there’s a chapter in the fic with lots of Jimmy Skizz interactions cuz he keeps talking about him and I love Jimmy and Skizz

-B’s lils are so cuteeee stupid spider

-Skizz is always gonna be edge around the forests- maybe he’ll try to talk to B? I hope so I love them

-Dude why would the cookie be a poisoning attempt who hurt you Skizzy

Andddd that’s it-

Uhhhhhhhh oh my gosh I RAMBLED sorry guys that’s a lot- uhhhhhhh hopefully I’m not boring…

Skizz what is UP with you

ANYWAYS hope you enjoyed! I’m excited and scared for these next few ones…

Cya in 7 days!

Day 12: Pearly Pop!!

The third and final member of the soup group! And as such, I can finally release the full photo from Skizz's journal :D

This is the first drawing I did for this challenge, so I'd redo a few things in hindsight, having finished many since then, but I still love it! lmk what you guys think, and, as always: All journal posts, @hermitadaymay fundraiser post, and go follow @enkays-den for all the hard work they do!! + click to see our fic ao3

Chapter 12 of This Side of the Screen is finally here!! In which they go for a walk together :]

Gonna be honest, this has been one of my favorites to write thus far. they're so stupid <3 But that's all I'll say! no spoilers! Go read it if you want to know what happens (hint: it's much cuter than what the image suggests ;)

here's the link again, in case you didn't already click it smh

also can we pretend it took a month to get this out because I was figuring out backgrounds, please pretty please?

I could not explain to you why this bit from one of Tango’s recent Hungry Hermits streams got me so bad; I think I was tabbed out and zoned back in to hear Skizz’s indignant “‘I, am special” and then I must have blacked out and woken up with this comic fully sketched out

I think this might be one of my favourite Skizz quotes ever lmao

CARGO DOESNT TALK

(From Impulse’s Impossible Minecraft Stream)

I love Hemitcraf

They’re just a bunch of silly lil guys

This clip has it all. hermit on hermit violence. dubiously family-friendly content. a beautiful woman singing. ethoslab is there.

The 4 Gs and their Creaky Neighbour

today's mini pearl is Solarpunk Pearl!!

the ticking time bomb alliance, place your bets on when it'll explode

i'm so excited to see where this team goes, because i do not trust them to make it to the end

Doodles!

Chapter 6 will be out later tonight! in the meantime, doodles from my sketchbook and tablet. I think this is the first time I've ever drawn Pearl, idk how I feel about how she turned out :P

Twitchcon crew (minus joel) bopping out!

Source: Skizz's September 26th stream

THE MAIL MOUNTS ARE DONE!!

Continuation of the snail mounts!!! Once again, these take long but they are super fun, especially trying to figure out how to saddle them. Here's some ramblings about them:

Pearl - she gets a chocobo! Mostly because I was thinking of chococraft at the time.

Etho - a very big grey wolf. The saddle is mechanic and shifts based on the wolf's position, that way it can sit down without Etho falling off!

Tango - a ravager of course! It's design is based mostly on a bison

I wanna make art of other things so I'm taking a break from these, but I still have a lot of ideas for other hermit's mounts!

Making of video

i spent way too much time on this but hey! decked out 2 in the style of slay the spire!

slay the citadel?

This was so funny to watch live i was losing it

(Not pictured: Pearl laughing for probably another minute and Skizz apologizing more)

Im oh so normal about real life smp and gaslight gatekeep girlboss

got an urge to design ponies oops

Burn Out

Word count: 5,161 Warnings: Blood/injury, violence, death, dissociation, fictional racism/xenophobia, panic attacks, slavery, heavy angst Description: Tango and Zedaph are traveling between cities when they are ambushed on the road, and Tango is critically injured. Zed has to save him, before it's too late! You'll see how that goes. ;) This fic is entirely based on @amethystfairy1 's Traveling Thieves au on Ao3, so if you're confused, go give it a read! A lot of inspiration for this came from the song Burn Out by Imagine Dragons, which I, again, recommend listening to.

On with the angst!

Tango's POV

There was a time when Tango would’ve noticed and cataloged every minute lilt in his master's tone, every shift in their body language, every twitch in their expression. He would’ve memorized the sound of their footsteps on stone and been alert to every snap of a twig, panicking at their entry to the room, acutely aware that any sour look or misplaced breath could leave him convulsing with pain. It was a learned skill, one that had been forced upon him after being taken captive to a twisted system, one that he hadn’t needed for months. 

Is this what freedom feels like? 

No. This was better than freedom. Zedaph was better than any master Tango had ever had—though he much preferred the title ‘friend’—better, even, than living in his nether pyres as a boy, scrounging for scraps, the last time he had been truly free. Zedaph’s presence was more comforting than fire or light; Tango would gladly bear being a slave—if you could even call him that—if only to stay by his side. Zedaph was safety, Zedaph was relief, a balm to the scars across Tango’s soul that fled before the light like ghosts. 

But despite it all, Tango desperately wished he still had the attention to his surroundings that had saved him so often before, in those dark, desperate times; it might have saved them now, it might have given them a warning as to what was coming. 

He and Zed had been traversing a deep canyon, on the road between cities. The master-smith had taken up a commission from an old client who’d done him favors in the past, and as such, Zed took every opportunity to repay them, even if it was something so minor as repairing a chipped broadsword, even if the quickest route was known for being hostile to travelers.

They were halted now, though not by one with the appearance of a thief; the man was tall, well-built, well-fed. He sported a purple sash and gold medallion—symbols of the royal guard—with a broadsword attached to the hip and a crossbow on his back over plate armor. Typical paladin attire, though what he was doing out in the middle of nowhere was impossible to say. Perhaps traveling himself? Whatever the reason, it did not matter. As an officer of the law, he had stopped them. 

The man surveyed their wagon suspiciously, gaze landing on Tango, in the front seat, next to Zed. Once upon a time, that might have made him squirm, but now he just watched with a carefully neutral expression. 

“What are you doing?” He addressed Zed.

“Traveling!” Zed answered easily, tone bright as though he were about to tell a joke.

“Nether-borns must be blindfolded while traveling.” There was a hard edge to his voice, but that was nothing new; most strangers were like this, before they knew who they were speaking to.

“Do they, now? Is that a law in these parts?” Zed turned slightly towards Tango, playing confused, though he could hardly conceal the twinkle in his eyes. Tango could barely keep from smiling himself; it was funny, watching offended officials blunder their way into conversations with someone of such superior status, almost an inside joke at this point. 

Vaguely, Tango heard the shuffle of footsteps to his left, but he didn’t register it. His senses were not so keen or concerned as they used to be. 

“Step down from your wagon,” the man commanded, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. Apparently he wasn’t in the mood for joking. “I would like to see documentation of your ownership of the animal, as well as search your cargo for any contraband.” 

Zed’s easy-going smile instantly morphed into a scowl and he folded his arms across his chest. Tango could hardly conceal his hurt as his flares began to spark and blaze rods circled defensively. This is nothing new, he reminded himself, even if the term was a bit jarring. No need for him to get worked up, Zed would handle it, Zed would protect him. 

“No, I won’t be doing that, thank you very much. I’ll have you know that I am a master-smith, and the closest thing you’ll get to documentation of my companion is the seal on my hammer, as proof of my title.” Zed glared down at him. 

But instead of the shock, embarrassment, or even fawning that usually followed such a revelation, the man only grinned snidely. 

“A master-smith, eh? You must have quite the pretty penny in that cargo.” He unsheathed his sword and twirled it in his hand, taking a step towards the wagon. 

This is wrong. Alarm bells were ringing in Tango’s head as he finally snapped to attention, bristling, ears flicking back and forth to catch any suspect noises in the area. He was just a little too slow to pick it up, though not for the first time in his hellish life. That wasn’t much comfort right now. 

“Ambush!” Tango cried as he leapt from his seat, landing roughly in the dirt just as an ax embedded itself in the wood where his head had been. Pain lanced through his arm as he hit the floor, but he ignored it, scrambling to his feet and summoning his fire, face to face with a masked bandit wielding a battleaxe. 

A million things flooded his senses: the foreboding smell of rain in the air, the metallic sound of someone—presumably Zedaph—grabbing gear from the wagon, the thunder of footsteps on the ground. Panic rose up in his throat, but he swallowed it down; a deeper, darker emotion was taking control: rage. Visceral, mind-consuming rage. It gave him tunnel vision as he lept into action. 

Tango was never trained to fight. Being a nether-born, he was already seen as some brutish savage, bred for survival like any other animal. Being a blaze-born, he was something that needed to be controlled; an exotic fire hazard at best, an erratic pyromaniac at worst. What fool of a master would give him the training to properly defend himself on top of that? All they wanted was control. Control his fire, they commanded, threatened, cursed. Control your flares, they screamed into his ears, the sound echoing in his nightmares. Tango wanted the screaming to stop, the phantom pain to fade from skin and memory. He didn’t know how to fight. He only knew docility and submission, even when he couldn’t control his flares, even as they berated and blindfolded and broke his body, broke him down into something less than human. An animal, a monster, a hazard. That was all Tango ever was, something to be controlled, something to be used at another’s whim. 

Until Zedaph. Zedaph, who was fire and light; Zed, who was the sun. He befriended, encouraged, and comforted Tango, whilst all the world turned a blind eye to his torment. The first day he knew the man, Zed had bought Tango clean clothes, soothed his panic attack, promised his safety—even if Tango couldn’t believe it at first. He had loved the parts that the world despised. How could such cruel people bring him here in the first place, why drag him from his pyre, kicking and screaming and burning, only to hate the fire they’d captured, to stamp it out by any means necessary? Control, control, control! Tango had lost control the first day he met Zed, but instead of reprimands, instead of pain, Zed offered up awe and admiration. A miracle, Zed had called him, for wielding fire like another limb. He coaxed the flames out of their cage, gave them direction and purpose, spurring Tango on like a child learning to walk, cheering when he ran. 

Tango had never been allowed to freely practice his fire before, but he knew it now like he knew the curve of Zedaph’s smile, the sparkle of his purple eyes, the warmth of his hands. Tango would rather die than lose that smile. He’d sooner drown in a frozen lake than allow a single hair on his master’s head to be touched. So he wielded his fire as Zed had taught him, with the fury of a bear defending her cubs. Maybe he was every bit the savage animal the world saw him as—but at the end of the day, it didn’t matter what anyone else saw; Tango saw red. 

Zedaph's POV

An ear-splitting wail rent the sky as Zedaph hefted his war hammer from where it was buried in dented plate armor. The man underneath wasn’t getting up anytime soon—not that Zed noticed, sprinting around the wagon to the passenger side.

“Tango!” He cried, rounding the bend, breathing heavy from the exertion.

“Don’t come any closer!” A voice shouted at him, and he froze, surveying the scene. Bodies littered the ground around him, several still alive and groaning, all of them charred. A few yards in front of him were the only two raiders still standing. One loosely wielded a sword in her left hand, the right arm dripping with blood, her hair burnt on the ends—the smell of it stung his lungs. The other, a man, had a foot planted firmly on Tango’s back to hold him down and brandished a staff topped with a green gem, the other hand swirling with purple magic. Tango himself was still wailing, shoulders tense, claws gouging out the ground with no other outlet for his pain. His blaze rods were circling at lightning speed, sparking off one another, and his hair was turned totally to fire. Zed’s ribs tightened around his heart at the sight.

“Get away from him,” he growled, tensing up to spring into action. 

“Drop your weapon,” the man fired back. “Drop it, and we’ll let the two of you live.”

Zedaph gripped the hammer indecisively. Could he take the two of them by himself? One injured, one not, Tango incapacitated. The screaming filled his ears and rattled his mind—he couldn’t think straight. I need to save him, I need to save him was the only discernible thought in the whirlwind. Save him by any means necessary. If he fought, if he lost, Zed was dead, and Tango would be thrown back into the twisted system he’d only just been saved from, that Zed had grown to hate with his entire soul. He could not let that happen—but would these people keep their word? He bit his lip. He had no choice. He let the hammer fall. 

The man tapped the gem against Tango, and instantly the screaming died to a whimper. Tango’s body convulsed with coughs. The man took a step back, gesturing for his partner to follow.

“Now get out of here, before I change my mind,” he threatened. 

Zedaph didn’t need to be told twice. He rushed up to Tango and gathered the small, trembling frame in his arms, ignoring how the flares singed his skin. Without another word, he fled the scene, leaving it all behind before the bandits could have second thoughts about letting them escape. 

Only after he had rounded the bend, passed out of sight, did he break. Tears stung his eyes as he dropped down, resting Tango on his lap and freeing an arm to brush the dirt and blood off his face.

“Tango, Tango can you hear me? Are you okay?” Zed asked desperately, heart catching in his throat at the moans his friend let out. His flares were still alive and roaring. Blood was dripping from his mouth, and his claws were caked with the stuff. It was difficult to tell how injured he was; his clothes were scorched black and now sported holes. The visible skin was riddled with minor scrapes and bruises, but aside from that Zed could only spot two major injuries: lacerations on his arm and his thigh. Both were bleeding heavily. 

He gingerly set Tango down completely and grabbed the rag he always carried in his belt, tearing it into strips to use as bandages. Tango’s expression shifted and he cracked his eyes open, tears silently leaking out.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse, hardly audible.

Relief flooded Zed at the sound of Tango’s voice. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he soothed, crudely wrapping the cut on his leg with the impromptu bandages. Tango recoiled at the touch, poorly smothering another whimper. 

“I-” He was immediately broken off by a fit of coughing, and Zed desperately wished he could take Tango’s hand in his to soothe it. Instead, he moved on to the arm, whispering soft consolations.

“Sh, it’s okay, Tango. Just relax.”

His friend hiccuped as a sob broke out. “I- I didn’t- hic -I couldn’t protect you,” he managed in a strangled tone. It was clear every word hurt; his entire frame was tense and quivering, as though lightning coursed through his blood. 

“Hey, hey, hey now—You did wonderfully; I’m fine, see?” He tied the second bandage as securely as he could, and Tango tried not to flinch. “I failed to protect you. It’s not your job, it’s mine.” 

Another cry built up in Tango’s chest, but he swallowed it down. “But the wagon… I’m so sorry,” he murmured again, eyes closing. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay; it’s just stuff, it can be replaced. Just rest.” Panic began to flood Zed’s senses once again, but he smothered it—he needed a plan. Their destination was not too far off. Zedaph was strong; he’d worked with metal and hammers his whole life, he could carry Tango all the way to the city. At least, he hoped so. He had no choice but to believe it; Tango needed proper medical attention. 

He worked his arms under Tango’s knees and back once again and lifted him into his lap, struggling to get to his feet whilst being as gentle as possible.

Tango looked at Zed once more, eyes impossibly sad. “No- you don’t- hic -you can’t carry me.” He sniffled miserably. “I’ll burn you.”

But Zedaph didn’t set him down. He forged straight ahead, resolve in his expression, following the path as fast as his feet could carry him. It was true that Tango’s flares were still burning strong—of course they were; Tango was distraught, Tango was in agony—and it was true that it stung. But there was no chance in a million years that he would let his friend walk in his current state, exhausted and in pain, barely able to string a sentence together. 

“It’s okay, Tango; I’m a master-smith.” He tried for humor, forcing a chuckle through his teeth, though all he wanted to do was cry. “I’ve survived far worse burns than any you could possibly give me.”

“But, Zed-” Another cough racked his trembling frame. Hot tears were pouring down his face, dripping onto Zed’s arm underneath, and Zed cradled him closer.

“I don’t want to let you go–” his voice broke as he said it, and his own tears began to flow freely, blurring his vision. “I don’t want to let you go.” He declared again, this time with firmness in his voice.

Tango took a sharp breath in, pulling his arm away from Zedaph’s chest, almost throwing them off balance.

“Sorry, sorry!” He immediately cried out as Zed stumbled. “It- it- I’ll keep still.”

Alarm fluttered in his chest, but he never stopped moving. “What’s wrong?” He asked as evenly as he could. He needed to stay strong, for Tango. For Tango. He marched on.

Hesitation flickered on Tango’s face as he clearly bit back another whimper. “...your tears.”

Zed glanced down; the spots where tears had landed on Tango’s arms were now blistering and sizzling. The water. The water burns.

“I… I’m so sorry,” he managed through a tight throat, blinking back the wetness in his eyes. 

Tango tried for a smile. “I guess we’re even, then.” He coughed again.

You’re going to break my heart.

The next hours were painfully slow. Zed’s thighs were burning with the exertion, Tango’s trembling hadn’t stopped, the flares were still alive and roaring, and the smell of Zed’s singed skin clung to them. It was sunset by the time they reached the city; though the sky was painted gray with storm clouds, rather than the normal oranges and yellows. Zed knew the humidity stung Tango’s lungs, but there was nothing to do. He just had to pray they found a medic before the sky opened up. 

They almost weren't let into the city; the guard wore a not-so-subtle expression of disdain towards the little blaze-born, and hardly believed Zedaph when he showed him the seal on his smithing hammer, one of the few things he still had from the raid. Precious minutes slipped away as Zed explained the situation, and it had started to drizzle before they were finally allowed in. 

Tango curled up even tighter in his arms, trembling, trying desperately to hide from the rain as his breathing quickened. The makeshift bandages were thoroughly soaked with blood. Heartbreak wove a noose around Zed’s throat as he raced along the empty streets. He didn’t know this city, he didn’t know where he could find a healer. It was night time, the rain was coming down; there was hardly a soul to be found that he could ask, and the few that were still out hadn’t the patience for his plight. It was written in every stranger’s face and heart; they turned Zed away with apathy, bordering on contempt for the creature nestled in his arms, a creature condemned to a life without love.

Zed couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen. He loved Tango, even when the world didn’t. He huddled against a wall, trying to shield Tango with his shoulders as he came up with a plan.

Even if they found a healer, would they deign to help him? Zed had little to pay with but his gratitude. He needed a bank, but he needed to save Tango first. Who would possibly help him now? He couldn’t get a healer, couldn’t get bandages, couldn’t even get a roof over Tango’s head without the coin to back it up. He was a stranger, utterly alone in a hostile city. 

He gazed down at Tango’s little face as despair sunk her teeth in. Tango’s eyes met his, still shivering, holding back sobs as hiccups racked his ribs, cowering from the rain, powerless to escape. Red spots like mosquito bites spattered his skin where the raindrops landed—they were more to him than mere pain; Zed knew that by now. They were years of suffering and hopelessness, a cruel blend of manipulation and abuse, weaponized by tyrants and packaged so beautifully, so tenderly, so harmlessly. They were memory, they were anguish itself. You could see the torment in his scarlet eyes, the misery, the blood-curdling fear palpable as he anxiously searched Zed’s face for any trace of the hope he’d clung to for as long as they’d known each other. There was none to be found; Tango resigned himself to his fate, once more, forced back into the spiraling past as though he had never left. 

No.

No, he couldn’t let Tango suffer like this. There had to be someone, anyone, who would help them, who would lend them a roof or a coin, if only for a minute, long enough to get to a bank. Zed steeled himself and set out once more. The rain wasn’t relenting, and though it didn’t hurt him like it hurt Tango, the cold still bit into his drenched skin and sent shivers down his spine. His arms ached, his legs pulsed with pain, but he continued, begging any stranger he saw for help.

But nothing. It was hopeless.

Zed looked down once more, to find Tango’s eyes had closed, the flares on his head dimmed, his breathing slow and shallow.

“No, no, no! Tango! Please, please don’t burn out on me,” he sobbed, drawing him impossibly closer as the water dripped down his plastered hair. 

Then it struck him—Gem. Gem was here, for his commission, she would help him. Hope flickered in his chest, not quite doused by the rain. 

Gem has healing powers, Gem will help me. Gem has healing powers, Gem will help me.

Zed forged deeper into the city. He was lost; he’d become so in his panic to find a healer; he hadn’t kept track of where he’d come from. All he knew was the name of the inn they were to meet at. He stumbled through the dark with the limp body of his friend, the name ringing in his head, with none around to get directions from.

His legs were about to give out on him, hysteria rose in his chest like a tidal wave.

But vaguely, through the mist, he saw the figure of an avian. Her wings and arms were spread wide, opened up towards the sky, and she danced in the rain. 

This was his last hope. 

He heaved Tango up further and sprinted forwards.

“Please,” Zedaph cried, dropping to his knees in front of her, “please, do you know where Gemini Tay is staying, at the inn, the–” A dry cough shook him, cutting him off. He looked up at her, pleading, trying to catch his breath as shock rippled through her wings. 

“Please, I need help, the rain, I–” He gazed down at Tango again, curled up and weakly shuddering, illuminated only by the fading glow of his flares, blaze rods frozen in time. “Don’t burn out, don’t burn out on me,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. This couldn’t be it, this couldn’t be the end.

After seconds that felt like eternity, a hand was on his shoulder. “Follow me,” the avian commanded, turning up the road.

Zed grit his teeth and struggled to his feet, hardly able to force himself to stand through the pulsing fatigue. But he had to, for Tango, for Tango.

He stumbled after her, and she lifted a wing to cover them from the downpour that only grew stronger by the minute. She didn’t say much as they wove through the streets—not that Zed had the breath to reply anyways—eventually happening upon a cheery pub doused in warm light. The avian briefly shook out her wings before mounting the stairs to the second floor. He did his best to ignore the stares of all the patrons at the bar, following silently before anyone could stop them. Finally, she burst into one of the rooms without even knocking.

“Hi Pearl, I was wondering when you’d be back after the rain–” Gem’s voice broke off as Zed staggered into the room behind her. “Zedaph!?” She exclaimed incredulously, dropping the brush she had been combing through half-dried hair.

“Gem, please,” he started, “please, can you help him?” He lifted Tango up with what little strength he had left, exhaustion and anguish plastered all over his face. 

She rushed to him and grabbed the blaze-born from his hands, transferring him gently to a bed as she spoke. “What on earth happened?”

“Bandits. Ambush,” he replied, trying to stifle another cough that built in his lungs. He grabbed the bedpost for support as his knees buckled underneath him.

“Sit down, Zed, sit down!” She gestured to the chair she had been sitting on. “Pearl, could you get some towels, please?”

The avian nodded and left the room as Zed promptly disobeyed Gem, choosing instead to place himself on the bed at Tango’s head, stroking his fingers through the blaze-born’s tangled hair. Despite having finally reached safety, fear tightened its icy grasp around his heart when he looked at him. Was he too late?

“Are you alright?” She asked, eyes filled with concern. She reached for his burnt arm, but he pulled away.

“I– I’m fine, but Tango, he–” a sob broke the sentence. “He fought half a dozen all alone, and–” More coughing shook his frame and Zed wiped away stinging tears with a damp palm. “They got to him, and, and– the water, Gem! The rain burns him, and I couldn’t protect him, and I just–” He buried his face in his free arm, silently quaking as guilt and heartache washed over him. 

He’d promised this would never happen to Tango again, that he would take care of him, that he would protect him. Brilliant job he’d done of that, for the second time now. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at Tango, who was covered in the angry bruise-burns he’d seen once before. Tango, who, for all his pain, for all his trauma, for all the righteous anger he could and ought to have towards the world, only ever apologized and took the blame for himself. Zed had gotten out unscathed, and the first thing Tango had said to him was ‘I’m sorry’—as though he had been anything less than perfect the whole time Zedaph had known him. It all boiled down to the same inevitable conclusion: the world is a cruel and twisted place—and Zed was powerless to change it.

Gem had been surveying the blaze-born, but now she stomped her bare foot on the floor, summoning fairy-lights that flitted around him, flashing and glittering, before landing in her palm. She worried her lip and moved to unravel the crude bandages Zed had wrapped earlier, thoroughly soaked in blood, the wounds not even scabbed over yet. Golden magic danced in her fingertips as she touched his bare shoulder, but she instantly flinched back in shock.

“Why is he so hot?” 

He was hot—scalding, even; the water on his clothes and skin had completely evaporated. If he was awake, Zed was sure Tango would be pushing him away, afraid to burn him. But right now, Zed didn’t even notice the heat, and continued brushing his hands through Tango’s hair, hoping that the motion somehow soothed him in his slumber. 

“He just gets like that… I think it’s a built-in defense mechanism, as a nether-born,” he answered mindlessly after a moment, thoughts elsewhere. 

“Are you immune to burning or something? Keep your hands off!”

He looked up at Gem, a thousand emotions in his eyes. “I don’t want to let him go.” He couldn’t let go, he couldn’t, not like this. A million things whirled in his blazing brain, but mainly, Zed was terrified—what if Tango never woke up? What if he was too late, too slow, not strong enough to save him? What if his flames were snuffed out for good?—the fact that Tango was warm, not cold, not yet, was the only thing keeping him anchored to this world. He couldn't bear never hearing his raucous laugh again, never seeing his tail flick back and forth with a cheerily crackling flame.

She looked like she wanted to argue, but held it back, instead turning back to the gash on Tango’s shoulder. To Zedaph’s surprise, it had scabbed over completely. He stared in awe as Gem did the same to the thigh, again flinching at the heat, but sealing it nonetheless. She sent some more of what the blond could only describe as fairy dust over Tango’s whole body, to seemingly no effect, before stepping back, visibly exhausted. 

Finally, finally, Tango shuddered lightly and turned onto his side—out of Zed’s grasp—though he didn’t fully awaken. For the first time in several hours, Zedaph felt like he was able to breathe. He closed his eyes and leaned back, praising his lucky stars that Tango just might be okay. 

He heard light footsteps on the wood and he opened his eyes once more as Gem pulled up a chair. “I’ve only closed the major injuries,” she reported somberly, “but he’ll need to be very careful these next few days that they don’t reopen. I’m not good enough to heal all the burns, but I’ve done what I can for the pain.”

Zedaph took a deep breath and let the tension unwind from his shoulders. “You’re a miracle, Gem. Thank you so much.”

“Of course I am!” She replied cheerily. “Now, spill. What happened?” As she spoke, she grabbed his arm—singed from shoulder to fingertips—and sent pulses of magic through it. 

“We were on the road to the city, almost through the canyon, when we got stopped by a thief under the guise of a guard and ambushed. Tango took on the majority—almost won, in fact—but they took him down, told me to either surrender and escape with our lives, or die. I couldn’t– I…” He paused to clear his throat. “I couldn’t take that chance; I took their offer, but Tango was too injured to walk, so I carried him to the city, tried to find a healer as it started raining, failed miserably.  Eventually ran into the avian, and now we’re here.”

It was a short story, but Gem had listened with rapt attention.

“You carried him—Tango—here, from the ambush?” She asked, incredulous.

Zed nodded.

“From the canyon??”

“...Yeah?”

“Zedaph, how are you still awake? How have you not passed out from exhaustion??”

“Adrenaline?” He answered weakly, with a shrug. He was tired to the bone, but he couldn’t relax yet; Tango still wasn’t awake; the knots in his stomach hadn’t completely unraveled.

“Ugh, nevermind that, lemme…” She stamped her foot once more, and Zed watched as the fairy-lights danced across his own skin and returned to her. “Zed, you need to sleep.”

He made vague noises of protest. “But Tango still hasn’t woken up, and– and first, I need to get a room, and–”

At that moment, the avian—Pearl—reentered the room, arms full of towels. “Here ya’ are!” She crowed, piling them on a side table. 

Gem grabbed one with a “thank-you” and handed it to Zed. He obligingly stood after a moment to dry himself off, not wanting to splash Tango—though he desperately needed a new set of clean, warm clothes to finish the job. 

“Good. Now, go. to. sleep.” Her tone was playful, but firm.

“But I– I need to go get a room…”

“With what money, Zedaph? Hmm? Just sleep here,” she insisted.

“Oh, no, no, no! I’ve already trespassed far too much on your hospitality, we’ll just, em…” He glanced over Tango, not sure if he had the strength to lift him up and carry him… well, nowhere. Because Gem was right, he couldn’t afford a room right now. But surely he could figure something out… “Maybe the owner will give us a free room?” He tried. “Because I’m a master-smith, surely he’ll give me a loan? And we can pay them back after I go to the bank tomorrow. Yes, yes that’s what we’ll do.” 

“Nuh uh!” Gem chided. “You’re staying here. You can pay me back later, if you really need to.” 

With that, she sent a flicker of magic over him, and his vision began to blur—well, more than it already had—and he felt himself slipping away, fighting it though he was. He felt someone catch him and lay him in a bed, and vaguely heard Gem mention a new target before he completely lost consciousness.

green carpet 📸

I wanna draw sumone from my seven deadly sins post (edited here from suggestions btw)

Yall decide who I draw first

SEVEN DEADLY SINS

Pride - Grian

Gluttony - Scar

Wrath - Joel

Envy - Cleo

Sloth - Scott

Lust - Pearl

Greed - Martyn

Pride: Pride fits him for a few reasons, watcher lore and general character. By common watcher lore iterations he is an escapee of the watcher realm. His refusal to go with their schemes gives him this role. Unrelated to the watcher lore, he has never been one to go down without a fight. His 1v4 in secret life, the killing of bdubs when he and Scar betrayed him etc. He is a fighter, and he won't give up even when the odds are against him.

Gluttony: Scar has always been known for his terrible trades, seeming to never have enough. He's always opting for more and more, not caring what it'll take to get it. Even if it means screwing over his “friends”.

Wrath: In reference to my Life Series Curses post; his being the Bloodbath Curse; it fits his slow descent to madness and thirst for destruction as each season progresses.

Envy: Someone overlooked, being dubbed the “Fake Winner” by many. Envious of those considered as “real” winners.

Sloth: I considered pride for Scott but I think it fits Martyn more and sloth can be affiliated with the fact that he won by not doing what he was supposed to do as the boogeyman.

Lust: Each season, Pearl has been heartbroken or betrayed (I think I don't quite remember but I'm quite sure Scarlet Witch was born from her divorce from Scott) so I think it fits(?).

Greed: Greed for Martyn fits I think cause he's always thirsty for a win, for something to happen. He is careful with what he has and is a very tricky character.

Alternatives:

I actually thought of wrath for Martyn because of his naturally chaotic personality but I thought Pride suited him more because he refuses to go down without a fight. A proper one.

I thought that lust would suit scar a bit because of what he said when he won secret life, as well as his relationship with grian (desert duo I miss you pls come back TvT) but in general terms I think gluttony suits his overall character more.

Grian was very tricky since he could fit in with and wrath as well cause he can be petty when he wants to i.e. killing of Jimmy in wild life but settled on pride cause it's more general.

Pride can work with Martyn as well cause I think it would make sense for his win in limited life as he refused to go with the fair fist fight in favor of ensuring himself the win. But I think it suits grian more idk. I kinda just put him in greed cause I like which else to give him TvT.

Pearlo:D

Pearlo:)

Watcher: Origins

Main (Main) characters:

Grian - Avian, shapeshifter, watcher

Mumbo - vampire

Scar - vex

Martyn - elf, listener

Pearl - harpy

Jimmy - avian

Martyns might change in the future. Pearl too I think. But have this for now. ^^

5am pearl drawing in aggie!