#connor scribbles

this time, it's not a permadeath. it's a first death of three possible ones, because this time there's no randomly assigned number, you get what you get; what everyone gets. this time, it's not even his fault. not entirely, though maybe him being an omen of death had something to do with it.

this time, he's left laying at spawn, the feeling of a fresh scar crawling over his skin. things had gone black, and then not — he's met with the night sky, stars glittering where there aren't trees to cover them. he hears just a little bit away, the sound of desperate movement. he sits up, dazed from what felt like a creeper explosion — maybe it was tnt? no, not this early in the game. hopefully.

his hands meet grass as he pushes himself up to his feet, and the blades feels sharp. his nerves are fried, at least in his hands. he assumes that maybe whoever his soulmate is, held up their hands in front of their face to stop the damage. it didn't work, obviously. but there's something peculiar, a tingling sensation below his eyes, trailing down to his chin.

“hellooo?” he calls out, finding himself trembling a terrible thing, and a frown catches him when there's no response. at least not one he can hear, so he sets off. just circling spawn, really — and he gets a glimpse of what he assumes is light from a torch, but when he draws closer, it's not. it's.... tango, he thinks his name is. hunched over, breathing heavily, shaking. however, the thing that stands out the most, is the way tango's hair spikes up, ends ablaze, forming into a cluster of sparks and light, trailing off into smoke.

“hey— tango? you there?” he tries, stepping closer. a branch breaks under his shoes. tango snaps around, and jimmy catches sight of red eyes, furrowed brows, and sharp teeth.

“ji—jimmy?” he hiccups, sniffling. oh. oh, he's crying— and the tears are evaporating on his face. jimmy assumes that's where the tingling feeling is coming from. they can share pain, but something as small as this?

“yeah, hey, bud, you alright?” he comes closer, and tango tenses up.

“hhhhh. oh god. jimmy, im so— i didn't mean— it came out of nowhere! just dropped out in front of me, i barely had time to react —!”

“hey— dude, c'mon. i don't blame you. it's okay, you did your best.”

tango just ... stares at him a moment, head tilt, and jimmy thinks he looks a little bit like a cat. it's endearing, kind of, and jimmy feels blood rush to his face at the thought. ohhhh. that's an embarrassing thought to have right now, that this guy he's barely spoken to is— cute!

tango catches on, and he laughs a little bit. he's still tense, but the flames seem to be dying down a tad. “deep breath, jim.”

“aren't i supposed to be telling you to take a deep breath right now?” jimmy shoots back, and tango shrugs.

“ehhh, i dunno. doesn't matter. uh, for the record,” the tone shifts drastically, “i'm sorry. i didn't mean to get us killed.”

jimmy shakes his head but he doesn't voice the elephant in the— no, canary in the mine would be a little bit better of a phrase for this — instead; “dude, i don't blame you, you did what you could. im proud of you, i think.”

“—ya 'think'?”

jimmy's wings bunch up behind him, and he furrows his brow. “no, no, i think— i think that im proud to be soulbound to you!”

this catches tango off guard, and it makes him laugh. the tears are long forgotten now, and the flames have died down enough to be comfortable again, and they realize that they've spent so much time talking about this and not enough time getting their stuff back, so with a quick fist bump and a promise of not dying again, they seperate.

it's not necessarily a problem. not yet, at least, because everyone else is busy doing their own things, and mumbo seldom sees other boatem-ers during the day, and even rarer does he encounter them in a store or a closed space. so realistically, he won't end up under mistletoe with anyone.

but there was a problem, regardless. mumbo wanted to end up under the mistletoe with someone. a specific person, actually, which made it even MORE of a problem and oh goodness— mumbo was, to put it lightly, in a bit of a pickle.

he had just collected his profits from harmless harvests and had decided to spend the day shopping. he needed to restock on rockets and black dye needed for some concrete anyway, so might as well get everything today. he figured he'd start at boatem, and visit iskall's for some more prismarine, and maybe even check out the new additions to the big eye crew's beachside town.

he was shuffling through the contents of a chest in iSOAR, picking up a few stacks of rockets that would hopefully last him the next few days — not that he absolutely needed rockets, with the state of the server nowadays, he could pretty much fly wherever from just the moon's gravity — and he tosses some diamonds in and turns to the door.

it opens, but not of mumbo's doing — and he realizes, with a flushed face, that grian was standing on the other side.

“ griaaaaaann.... ” he greets, eyes darting from his face to the mistletoe above the door, and he takes a step back, tugging nervously at the collar of his shirt.

grian blinks. an eyebrow raises and he glances up at the mistletoe, and goodness, mumbo can recognize the mischievous glint in his eyes. “ mumbo? why're you backing away? do i look that bad — ”

“ no! goodness no, grian, you look, uh, great, you look great. ” good save there, mumbo.

grian tilts his head and mumbo knows there's no getting out of this with his dignity intact.

“ then why, pray tell, have you gone all red? ”

if there ever was a time mumbo wished he wasn't family friendly, it would've been now, because maybe saying a swear word would've conveyed emotion enough.

“ i, uh, it's cold! it's cold, grian, that's all, come inside before you're— oh— ” he trails off, and feels his face growing hotter as grian tugs mumbo forward, so they're both under the door together. he can't get his eyes off of the mistletoe, not by choice, but because he didn't want to risk looking grian in the eye because oh goodness, he's panicking —

“ what's the matter, mumbo? ”

“ uh, haha, would you— look at that, above us, the um— mistletoe, we're under ... mistletoe. ”

grian visibly stifles a laugh. he raises a brow, feigning a look of shock and mumbo only knows it's faux because he knows grian. “ huh! would you look at that indeed. ” he rolls his eyes and mumbo is burning up from embarrassment when grian asks, “ are you going to do something about it? ”

mumbo's breath catches in his throat and he manages a gentle, “ if you want me to, ” and now he's looking grian in the eyes. grian stares back expectantly.

“ well, on with it. ”

so mumbo, in a moment of boldness which he's no clue how he mustered — brings a hand to the low of grian's back and pulls him close. grian huffs, his face reddening, whether from the cold or the closeness, mumbo isn't sure, and mumbo leans down and presses their lips together. it's a little clumsy at first, but they ease into a rythm and mumbo is positive that time has stopped for them and only them, because grian is wrapping his arms around mumbo's shoulders and it makes him shortcircuit.

when they pull away, it's slow, and mumbo watches in awe as grian's eyes flutter open, a dizzying smile on his face, and mumbo's sure this is the best day of his life, positively unaware that scar is standing behind them, looking awkwardly at them until —

he'd sit until he heard someone else stir, which more often than not happened to be skizzle or tango. he'd hear them inside laughing or whispering to each other in hushed tones, it'd make him roll his eyes and return inside to scold them for being so loud. bdubs needed his sleep, he always got a little grumpy if he didn't get the eight hours he insisted on — and since etho so dearly loved cared for him, he'd oblige and let him sleep.

tango and skizz would always startle at etho's appearance, especially the lack of a mask but over time they'd learn not to say anything. it wasn't often etho would lower it, even less so letting others see. team best had always kind of silently agreed that etho had his reasons for being so secretive, so after the first few days they'd learned to stop pushing.

he'd wave them off and make up an excuse about needing some supplies he left near the bed, and tango would tease him about wanting to go see bdubs — he wasn't wrong, but etho would prefer not to dwell on it. they were in a death game, one where alliances and bonds were supposed to mean nothing when someone turned red. luckily, no one in team best had reached that point yet, but etho had been apart of a game like this before. he knew it as well as everyone else did. it was only inevitable, so feelings were pushed aside and ignored. for the greater good, of course.

he'd slip quietly into the room bdubs slept in, and pretend for a moment to rummage through chests before he'd decide to sit on the edge of the mattress and watch the sleeping form of bdubs. it gave him peace of mind, sometimes, knowing bdubs was safe in bed. it was an assurance that he wasn't off doing something stupid or dangerous, which knowing him, the terms were always synonymous. but he wouldn't change it for the world.

he'd readjust the blanket on him, and press a kiss to the top of his head before raising his mask once more and slipping his jacket on again.

on his favorite nights, bdubs would be half awake and he'd stop etho from leaving the room with a silent tug to his sleeve. etho had learned a long time ago that saying no to him was always hard, he'd always use — what was it, that tango said? puppy dog eyes? — on him. even despite that something told etho he'd stay anyway, and he'd allow himself to get pulled into bed and bdubs would turn and curl into him, hands grasping at etho's jacket as be drifted back off to sleep.

even during the night, bdubs made everything feel ... warm. fuzzy, even, which was always a funny conclusion to reach. the fuzzy mossy time king, or whatever bdubs would call himself, making etho feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

he'd pull him impossibly close and hold on to him like it'd kill him to let go, and maybe it would. not that etho would dare risk that, not that etho would dare risk bdubs.

they'd sleep for a few hours before bdubs would pull etho from bed and they'd get ready for the day. sharpen weapons, strap on armor and prepare plenty of food. sometimes they'd sit around and lounge for a few hours, knowing the other factions were either too preoccupied with things of their own. etho would yawn, and bdubs would glance over to him with a stern expression that he'd never act on. bdubs knew as well as anyone that etho was hyper vigilant to the point where he'd deprive himself of sleep to keep others safe. sure, the phantoms sucked, but he'd live.

on his favorite days, skizz and tango would go off outside to scout for materials or set up traps, and according to bdubs, make out — so etho would be left alone with bdubs and they'd just— sit there. they'd talk about whatever, though always skirting around the darker and more pressing matters of the boogeyman or the game itself, but it was nice regardless. etho could listen to bdubs ramble for hours, especially when he dropped the wild inflictions in his voice and he'd just ... talk. etho would find himself physically close to bdubs, their shoulders pressed together or their fingers brushing together in a way that they weren't quite holding hands, but it was still enough to make etho's heart hammer in his chest.

and oh, on his favorite days, during his favorite moments, bdubs would smile. it would be genuine, not something played up for laughs or what have you, instead — it was the kind of smile that would make his eyes crinkle and etho's face red. they'd sit side by side, backs against the trees and bdubs would smile. his eyes were just as gorgeous, and they'd sit there and talk until the sky was golden and they'd lace their fingers together and say nothing about it.

bdubs would raise a hand to etho's face, fingers brushing sympathetically over the bags under etho's eyes and he'd ask etho to promise to try and get more sleep. etho would laugh it off, as well as laugh off the urge to ask bdubs to promise that he'd never leave etho's side, that they'd be together until the end. it was much too serious a talk to have.