SULLY'S MUSICAL GRIAN ONESHOTS!! ✨

Midnight Thoughts

HELLO MY GUYS, GALS & NONBINARY PALS!

I KEEP FINDING SONGS TO MAKE ONESHOTS OFF OF!!

YAYYYY

i tried writing this at 1 am and it came out crap

let's hope its better now, hm?

tws : 

blood, knives, sh, suicidal thoughts!!

~

It was 3 am. Grian was sitting in his bed, scrolling on his phone. You might think ' why the hell is he up at 3 am.' Yet, to the other hermits, this is perfectly normal behavior.

Afterall, only Bdubs has a sleep schedule.

Anyway, so, Grian sat, trying to focus on whatever youtube animatic was playing on his phone currently. Normally, when he couldn't sleep (from a variety of different causes, mostly nightmares), Grian watched captivating youtube videos to distract him from the dark shadows that pooled in the corners of his room, holding false promises of danger.

Unfortunately, this wasn't working. Grian felt his thoughts drift off to the past, sifting through memories of blood-stained walls & treacherous purple. Sometimes, Grian wondered what Sam thought of him.

Perhaps Sam regarded Grian sadly, disappointed by the ashes of a once glorious trust.

Perhaps Sam regarded Grian as a traitor, a sell-out who called the police for no reason.

Perhaps Sam still regarded Grian as a monster. He'd always told Grian so, drilling it into his head that it was his fault Taurtis was dead. Afterall, if Grian had never come on that fateful halloween day, Taurtis & Sam wouldn't have argued.

Sam wouldn't have stabbed Taurtis.

Therefore, Grian's past predicament of falsehood was his own fault. It sickly amused Grian that Sam was right. Afterall, once he'd escaped Sam - who was perhaps the only thing keeping Grian from being a monster -, he'd started an SMP that ended with all of his loved ones being tortured by psychopathic beings whom only wanted Grian.

Because he was one of them, wasn't he?

Even now, safe in Hermitcraft, Grian was still some-sort of monster. He'd started wars, ruined redstone systems, started two resistances.. There was only one thing Grian could determine from this evidence; He was a monster. A menace to a once-peaceful society.

Yes, that was probably why he hadn't been kicked out yet. The other hermits didn't want to release such a monster onto other servers, so they bore the brunt of it. The thought made silent tears flow down his cheeks.

He loved the hermits, truly, but was this what they thought of him?

Yes.

Grian decided he needed to walk around and got out of bed, feeling haunted by the ghost of Sam, who murmurs reassurances to his worst thoughts in broken memories.

Am I really a monster?

Yes.

They'd all be so much better off without me... 

Yes.

They'd be safe from The Watchers, from the same fate as EVO..

Memories flash through his mind as Grian unconsciously starts walking to the bathroom. Images of EVO, of The Property Police, before shifting to the purple fire consuming it all. The tears that ran down Grian's cheeks as he sobbed his heart out for those he lost- a second time.

The purple fire fades, giving way to memories of Sam. Of Sam digging his knife into Grian's arm, eyes wide as he hissed over & over, " This is all your fault, Gree-on~, you Monster." Of sinking into the floor as Sam was dragged away by police, screaming threats.

"I'LL GET YOU BACK, GREE-ON. YOU MONSTEROUS BITCH."

Of Taurtis in his hands, the blood leaking over his arm and dripping onto the pavement.

"This is all your fault, Gree-on~"

Sam was right, oh how he was right.

Grian was suddenly aware of the fact that blood was actually  leaking over his arm, painting it a soft velvet in the dim bathroom light. Grian's vision swam as he started to panic. It was almost day; he'd invited Xisuma for tea.

X would see, he'd see the Grian behind the sunny reflection.

Grian shoved himself up, desperately trying to wash off his arm as blood kept running into the sink, a sick stream of bright red that almost matched his stupid parrot feathers. Once he'd gotten most of the blood off - although he was still heavily bleeding-, he wrapped his arm in thin white gauze, covering it with a sweater.

He exited the bathroom, his thoughts swirling around him as the ghost of all his trauma pulled the strings.

He was fine.

Right?

Sometimes, Grian wished they'd all go away. The ghosts, the memories, the harsh voices in his head.

Sometimes, Grian wished he wasn't so alone.

Alas, there is no escaping a ghost...

~

IM SORRY ITS SO SHORT SHSHSHSHSHS