Grian knew a lot of things. He knew how to cook for a crew of 60 people. He knew how to clean and scrub the deck until his arms went numb. He knew how to avoid being the crew's punching bag for the night. He knew when to shut up and do what he was told. But most importantly - he knew not to hope. Because hoping hurts. So when a battle ends and an unfamiliar man steps into the kitchen, grinning at him like he's not just another piece of plunder, Grian doesn't know how to react. And when he's led onto the deck to meet the pirate captain - the man who now holds his fate in his hands - he braces himself for another cage. Instead, he's met with curiosity. Freedom. A handshake, instead of shackles. And, for the first time in years, a dangerous flicker of something he told himself he'd never feel again. Hope. or; A captured avian, a pirate crew, and a freedom he never dared to hope for (crossposted with permission from ao3)

The Hermits shared a bond of trust and camaraderie, but there was one thing that had remained a mystery-Xisuma's appearance beneath his ever-present space suit. He had never once removed his helmet or armor in front of anyone. The curiosity surrounding it grew over time, with whispers of what lay under the suit. No one was more intrigued, or concerned, than Keralis. Keralis had always been the observant one, noticing the subtle signs that something wasn't quite right. Xisuma's movements were stiff, and the suit, though impressive, looked increasingly worn. The helmet, especially, appeared to be in desperate need of repairs, and the weight of the armor surely took a toll on his body. Keralis couldn't help but worry. Staying in that suit for extended periods couldn't be healthy, no matter how resilient Xisuma was. The pressure of the heavy armor and the way the helmet seemed to restrict his movements only added to his concern. Despite the mystery, Keralis never pressed. He respected Xisuma's privacy, knowing that trust was sacred among the Hermits. But that didn't stop him from wondering: What if there was more to the story? What if Xisuma wasn't just hiding his appearance, but something deeper-something personal? The thought nagged at Keralis. The space suit was an enigma, and Xisuma's insistence on wearing it at all times only fueled his curiosity. What would it take to get Xisuma to take it off, even just for a moment? He wasn't sure, but one thing was clear: Keralis would do whatever he could to ensure Xisuma wasn't silently struggling in that suit, even if it meant confronting the one mystery he couldn't quite solve. art is not mine

Tango had always seen himself as a weapon. Not in the poetic sense, not metaphorically-no, in his mind he was something built to burn, a walking catastrophe dressed up like a person. Anything beautiful or green that he touched seemed destined to wither, curl inward, burst into flame, and die. It wasn't his fault, not really. He was a blaze hybrid, after all. Fire clung to him the way breath clung to others. His hair burned with living flame, flickering wild and hot unless he was sleeping or truly, deeply calm. Only then did it shift into something gentler: golden locks, soft and shimmering like sunlight instead of wildfire. Even the puffball at the tip of his tail-usually a small comet trailing sparks-could cool into a warm, glowing gold when his mind settled. Most of the time, though, it burned. So he avoided anything green. Plants recoiled from him, leaves crisping if he stepped too close. He stuck to industrial spaces instead: metal catwalks, stone corridors, redstone workshops where nothing living could be harmed by his presence. He carved out his home in places where fire was expected. His eyes were striking in a way that made people flinch before they realized they'd done it. The sclera were a deep burnt red, like embers cooling in a furnace, while the irises were bright and molten-almost too alive, too intense, like staring into a forge mouth. People didn't always know where to look when they talked to him. And so, after enough awkward pauses and nervous glances, Tango started wearing goggles. The tinted lenses hid the fire in his eyes and the freckles scattered across his cheeks-small, dark flecks like soot across pale skin. He didn't mind hiding. It was easier that way. Easier for him. Easier for everyone he might accidentally burn.

Winters had always been cruelly cold-biting, relentless, the kind that seeped through fur and bone alike. Even for an arctic fox, even for Etho, there were nights when the snow howled louder than instinct could answer. The white stretched on forever, blinding and empty, and the cold pressed in until movement itself became a careful calculation. Etho moved low to the ground when the wind picked up, shoulders rolling smoothly beneath his thick coat, paws placed with deliberate silence. His ears flicked constantly, swiveling for danger, for prey, for anything that meant warmth or shelter. When he paused, he curled his tail tight around his body, the plume of it tucked neatly over his nose to trap what little heat he could keep. Some winters were harsher than others. On those nights, instinct drove him closer to the edges of human territory. He lingered in the shadows, cautious but desperate, pale fur nearly vanishing against the snowbanks. The scent of smoke, wool, and cooked food tugged at something older than fear. He never approached boldly-only careful steps, a lowered head, eyes sharp and watchful, ready to bolt at the slightest threat. Finding a human willing to share warmth wasn't comfort. It was survival. Etho would settle near the fire but never too close, limbs tucked beneath him, muscles coiled even as exhaustion weighed heavy. Sleep came in short stretches, ears twitching, body primed to flee. Yet the heat soaked in anyway, thawing stiff joints and numbed paws, keeping him alive long enough to face the next dawn. Winter always passed eventually. But it never stopped demanding its price.

Grian works alone. And his fellow "hermits" know that. Once he messed up one of labs that put some experiments on living creatures, but he didn't expect to get a clingy hybrid companion after that. I ONLY SHIP THE PERSONAS!! NOT THE REAL LIFE PEOPLE. I respect their privacy. My first work, so I hope you like it. Tell me if there is anything I can add or improve! And also english is not my native language, so there will be some mistakes.

Deep in a secret testing facility a small avian is trapped in a life of unbearable experiments. But when the Hermits infiltrate and raid the lab they rescue the injured hybrid. With this new freedom grian is given a chance to live, explore life and spread his wings - but the shadow of his past threatens to clip his wings forever. Can the Hermits save him from the darkness of his past or will they forver be lost in the void of his life and secrets? Started 16/8/2025 Finished 7/9/2025 Wc: 33505 100☆ 2/9/2025 200☆ 6/10/2025 1k views 5/9/2025 2k views 12/9/2025 3k views 6/10/2025 4k views 13/11/2025 5k views 1/12/2025 6k Views 29/12/2025 #1 in gtwscar #2 goodtimeswithscar #4 grian

hot as fuck space people

ignore the cover idk man. also yeah

Etho a fox shapeshifter cast out of his pack as a punishment to help a human before he can return is stuck in his fox form. Bdubs an (emotionally, physically, and verbal) abused prince is gifted a rare white fox from his half brother Scar. Will both boys find love and safety with each other, or will they be alone forever. (I do not own the cover picture. Credit to the artist) (cross posed on A03 under the name 'the prince and the fox' by Captain_Blue [that is me!]) 'Royal Love' is the name of the series this is part of by me, 1: The Prince and The Fox 2: Red Poppies and Warm Kisses 3: Let's Change our World 4: Engaged Morning Kisses 5: Two Royals and The Commoner 6: Oh Love, Why Can't I Kill You?

Keralis has always loved the sea, which is why he chose to work at the aquarium-a place where he could be surrounded by the beauty of marine life every day. But there's something strange about his connection with the creatures here. Whether it's the gentle glide of an axolotl or the steady pulse of a guardian's eye following his every move, the animals seem inexplicably drawn to him. They don't just respond to his presence; they seek it out, yearning for his attention in ways that baffle his coworkers. One day, Keralis notices an unusual commotion in one of the tanks. A guardian named XB and an axolotl named X are locked in what appears to be an intense standoff-not over territory or food, but over him. Whenever he approaches, they push and jostle for his attention, flashing their colors and stirring up the water in a clear competition. At first, he finds it amusing, but as the rivalry escalates, he begins to wonder: Why do the sea creatures seem so fixated on him? Is it just his natural charm, or is there something deeper-something he has yet to uncover about himself and the bond he shares with the ocean? As Keralis tries to navigate his increasingly chaotic workdays, he starts to notice other odd occurrences-strange symbols appearing in the water, the feeling of unseen eyes watching him, and an undeniable pull toward the depths of the aquarium's largest tank. The more he tries to brush it off, the stronger the connection becomes. Could it be possible that he was meant for more than just caring for these creatures? Could the sea be calling him home? Little does he know, the answers lie beneath the surface, waiting for him to take the plunge.