SULLY'S MUSICAL GRIAN ONESHOTS!! ✨

mirror ball 🪩

WE'RE BACK

Context :

masquerade ball.

vague acquaintance hermits

scarain.  

this guy contains :

panic attacks, alcohol, small mentions of blood & knives

grian cross dressing <3

OK LETS DO THIS ( we'll get non taylor swift songs soon... just hold on)

rewrite times : / / /

~

Grian stepped into the ballroom, lit by a warm light emitting  from a diamond chandelier. He's wearing a slim dress with a cut to the side near his leg to improve walking. It's a shiny crimson red that fades to a regal purple. The same goes for his mask; although that is adorned with faux feathers painted to appear as though his own.

As he continued his entrance into the crowded room, Grian noted the people wandering round. There was a pair of two people, twins by the look of it, wearing helmets. One had a deep purple -deeper than his dress- suit flecked with white, whilst the other had a matching dress on. Judging by their shimmering greyish skin tone, Grian presumed they were Void Walkers, a rather uncommon species. Xisuma back at art club would be overjoyed to find others.

About 10 minutes later, Grian was left standing next to Mumbo and sipping champagne whilst having some-sort of existential crisis. The avian was lost in his thoughts, trying to describe his personality.

Some could say he was bubbly, energetic. Others would say immature, funny, a nice presence. 

But ... was that Grian? He didn't think so, not truly.

He was more like .... Like the mirrorball that swung, attached to the glittering diamond chandelier. A fragile piece, reflecting the bits of others to distract them from the shadows that lurk in the corners.

Reflecting the good bits of others; their  excitement. Their humor. Their  energy. Afterall, who would want to be friends with a hap-hazardly patched together bundle of depressed shadows? No one.

So, Grian became desirable. He made himself the good traits & shoved away the bad ones.

He was happy, upbeat. Always, always, always. He'd ignore the trembling shadows & focus on Mumbo's laughter, or drawing up the plans to his newest miniature model at Hermits Craft ( the popular art club that's rather .. exclusive.). 

Yet, Grian wondered, what happened when he shattered?

Could broken pieces still reflect?

No. He shouldn't dwell on this. Grian tuned out his rushing river of thoughts and instead focused on the conversation going on between the one person who's identity Grian was aware of ( Mumbo), and a creeper hybrid who reminded the avian of Doc. Perhaps he'd like to know theres a doppelgänger for him too.

Anyway, the two - Mumbo wearing a pitch black suit threaded with red-stone colored string, and the creeper hybrid wearing a green dress ( he lost a bet. Rip Doc.) - had been discussing redstone. Grian had literally no idea how the hell it all worked, although the Watchers had tried multiple times to drill it into his head. Never worked.

Grian always liked building, anyway.

~

 Scar strutted into the crowded ballroom, wearing a forest-green suit that had some sort of shiny quality to it. The half-elf brushed it off and started his way to the food table, having been told of the magnificent pastries often cooked by the staff here. I mean, it was his own house, so Scar was well aware of the amazing things concocted here.