Greamno and MCYT Oneshots

Grian Chill- (1/2)

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Grian had been described as many things over the years; clingy, insane, man-in-the-chicken-costume (which was ridiculous, obviously he was a normal, law-abiding citizen!), he'd even gotten called 'Naan Bread' after he fell off a building once (damn it Scar, just because he looked kinda flat when he was dead did not make him naan-).

Without a doubt, however, he was called and described as 'Grain'.

Grain! Of all the things! The thing you made Bread out of!

Anyway, Grian was very angry (read: peeved) at the fact that the rest of the server seemed to laugh at his new name. It was unfair, honestly. It wasn't like he laughed when others got into unfortunate situations (haha, moustache-less Mumbo-)! Plus, he was obviously superior. His boyfriend's could beat their boyfriends in a fight.

Sadly, however, when trying to convince said boyfriends to defend him against the onslaught of unjust and unearned tyranny he only dissolved the duo into laughing heaps on the ground.

Absolute traitors, the both of them.

So, instead of his original intended "haha get stabbed sucker's" plan, he'd decided to go with a much more classical plan.

Make F̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶s̶  neutral alliances with all their evil siblings and then spray-paint there bases with neon orange spray-paint.

Oh and also cause more chaos as an added bonus.

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First up, he had to befriend 'Evil X', who's real name was actually Xanthous (!Not Cannon!).

Xanthous was currently banished to the Nether, along with Hels, True, and BadTimesWithScar. The only thing Grian really had to do was find the four of them (the five of them if you count BadTimes's cat, Peanut).

It wasn't uncommon for players to be banished to the Nether; though it was usually for small periods of time. Still, it was common in those cases for some kind of small hut or society -depending on the amount of people banished- in both their boredom and need for survival. It was usually a mix of both.

With as big of a group as the Evil Hermits, there was bound to be some kind of social structure in the Nether somewhere, they were already well into season seven, after all. No doubt they had some form of armour, even if impromptu.

So, naturally, Grian stole Jelly and threw her at Xisuma. While the admin was distracted with Scar's cat, the sweaterd hermit used the situation to grab some handy admin perms and scan the Nether for unfamiliar infrastructure.

Coordinates were helpfully supplied, and so Grian took off to find the first of his many victims.

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The Nether was far to hot for his liking.

He was this close to removing his sweater. His signature red sweater! It would be a complete outrage. How did the 'evils' -as they were ever fondly refered to- even survive in these temperatures? They must be sweaterless. How sad. Grian would have to introduce them to sweaters.

Slotting his elytra back into an ender chest, Grian started the painful process of finding a way into the, he'd admit, cleverly disguised secret base.

Grumbling through the strain of the invisibility effect, the strawberry-blond started the ever-painful process of feeling around the rough netherack for some button or switch.

A pressure plate was quickly activated, revealing shifted blocks and a messily carved hallway. The hermit groaning at the poorly crafted torches; couldn't they have any appreciation for the art of building!? If they were going to spam torch, they could at least craft the torches right.

Quickly pattering down the hallway, he burst into what he assumed to be the main 'town',... town being used generously.

I'm all honesty, Grian couldn't tell what was building and what was wall. He was only glad that many were outlined in Blackstone, giving it at least some colour.

And they weren't even going to talk about the golden roofs, either. They simply didn't exist. Poof. Gone.

"Who's there!?" A voice, Xanthous's, hissed.

"Eep!" The bird-like (no natural wings this fic lol) hermit squeaked. Right, people. He was hear for said people. He knew how to do that. people. He knew how to do people.

Xanthous stood, Hels and BadTimes standing behind him with golden swords, brandishing his own fancy crossbow.

"Eep?" Hels muttered, eyes darting around wildly.

Ah, right. His invisibility potion.

Quickly pulling out some milk, Grian hastily chugged the pot. Upon magic 'arrival', the trios eyes fixated on him. A crossbow string was pulled back, waiting.

"Hi! Uh, okay, not here for a fight. As you can -hopefully- see!" Grian smiled awkwardly, clapping his hands together. "Right! So, do you want to spray paint the hermits bases' bright orange?"

"Do we want to what!?" Xanthous hissed. "Wait, no, who are you!?"

"Oh! I'm, Grian! Sweater! Red sweater man. Not Poultry Man. Don't confuse us!" Grian smiled.

Xanthous blinked at him, eyes narrowing.

"You a hermit?" BadTimes asked warily, eyes showing his blatant distrust.

"Yes! Well, no? Kind of. I am a hermit, but I am here to recruit you to bully the hermits! If that makes any sense." Grian smiled lopsidedly, eyes still sparkling with awkward anticipation and excitement.

"None." Hels hissed, the other two seemingly sharing the sentiment.

"Glad we're in the same page." Grian grinned. "Now. Neon orange spray-paint? Hermits base?"

"Uh-huh. How do we know your not here because Xisuma sent you?" Xanthous asked, the other two nodding along with their leader(?????)

"Huh. Well, I suppose you don't." Grian shrugged. "I have the spray paint on me now? Wanna see that?"

Hels nodded, BadTimes looking scarily excited.

Grian then proceeded to dump twelve cans onto the floor, all neon orange for the exception of one blood red. For flare.

Xanthous slowly lowered his crossbow.

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Uhhhh hahahahahahahaha completely normal update WHAT DO YOU MEAN I FINISHED THIS ONE SHOT BOOK-

How uh- how are you?

(Hahaha I'm sorry this is so sudden lmao nobody got any warning this was a spontaneous decision-)

Word Count: 1003