Chapter Text
"Dearest, darlingest Pearlie and Timsical"
Grian muttered under his breath, floating in the air above his bed with an unfinished letter infront of him. His siblings had demanded he write to them every month he's at his 'fancy weird admin school' getting his wonderful mechanics & admin degree- specializing in ancient red stone, obviously, considering..
Well, modern redstone disliked him.
"My dear NHO,"
Is it strange Doc is writing to that one cult he joined a year back?
No. It's not. He never said you could judge him.
He presses his quill deeper into the paper, dotting his first sentence, considering how to more... tastefully word this.
"There's been some confusion over rooming here at TIMC," (The Institute for Mechanics and Code (affectionately called Tink))
Even Grian can feel the absolutely judgmental side eye the.. goat? creeper? guy gives him. He should probably ask what the hybrid's name is, but he was so utterly aggressive when Grian entered their new shared living space that he... got scared off.
"But of course, I'll care for Bdubs,"
The short man was at TIMC's connected college, TIBS (The Institute for Building and Shaping), alone considering the other NHO-ers weren't interesting in a building college, opting for various other redstone academic institutions.
"But of course, I'll rise above it!"
His annoying roommate flips midair, vibrant white strands of magic flowing with him as he moves, scribbling that nonsense with his, frankly, disturbing hand writing into his letter.
Horrid, annoying fowl.
"For I know that's how you'd want me to respond... Yes,"
Grian burrowed a fang into the top of his worn-out pen, considering what to say next.
He very, very discreetly glances at his... roommate.
"There's been some confusion for, you see, my roommate is....."
Grian says it outloud, considering the words before writing them down in his faux cursive only Pearl & Jimmy can read.
"Unusually and exceedingly peculiar.."
He keeps the strokes of his utensil light, so if he needs to redo it for some reason, he can. Er- how does he, exactly, describe an angry goat creeper man staring him down like he wants to rip his throat into tiny little pieces?
"And altogether quite impossible to describe!"
...Good enough.
"Blonde."
Doc says it loud enough he knows the parrot can hear it as he writes, and smirks when he gets a very, very confused (and slightly offended) glance.
Grian's eye twitches.
..
Classes start up. Currently, Doc is staring down at his glittery wardrobe- revenge, surely, for 'messing with' Grian's weird Minecart mechanical project.
"What is this feeling, so sudden and new?"
Doc shifts his gaze from his painfully sparkly clothes to a certain smirking avian, holding some sort of new device in his hand.
I felt the moment I laid eyes on you.
"Like the new wardrobe? All of your clothes are so terribly drab-"
Doc narrows his eyes, hands clenching around one of his ruined lab coats. That stupid bird is not getting away with this heinous crime.
My pulse is rushing
Grian does a flip using his stupid magic again, grinning down at Doc from where he's floating in midair. Who's teaching admins party tricks these days?
My head is reeling
Doc flicks one of his wings, sending the avian swirling in a circle for a moment before he manages to stop his momentum to glare at Doc.
Yeah, well, my face is flushing
Satisfaction flares through him when the parrot flicks a piece of paper at him, returning to his desk to finish whatever ancient monstrosity he's working on. Seriously, who in the world takes ancient redstone not just as an easy way to get more credits??? Who in the world actively uses it??
What is this feeling, fervid as a flame?
..Doc gets him back by dumping glitter in Grian's bed.
Does it have a name?
Currently, they're sitting in their respective beds, staring at eachother.
Daring someone to make the first move.
Yes
Grian is playing with a piece of TNT that has some vague, rusting metal of the old times strapped onto it.
Doc is holding his own version of the bomb.
Loathing.
Grian throws his bomb at the ground of their dorm. It bangs, startling Doc back and covering him in smoke, ash and gunpowder.
...Class starts in 5 minutes.
Grian jumps out of the window, waving goodbye with a flick of his hand, leaving Doc to brush off his fur best he could before grabbing his supplies and exiting the normal way.
Unadulterated loathing.
The next day, Grian wakes up covered ash with his bedspread.
"REALLY?"
Doc snorts from under his blankets.
For your face, your voice, your clothing
Grian always spends an eternity getting ready in their bathroom, stars drawn on his cheeks in eyeliner and wearing mostly black with a glaring bright accessories -often cardigans or sweaters in red- with it.
Alternatively, Doc stays up into the late hours of the night tinkering while talking to himself into a little recorder. It's insufferable.
Let's just say... I loathe it all!
When Grian is woken up by Doc's merciless stomping of his hooves, he throws the closet thing - a candle? a candle.- at him and glares, an expression both of them have done so many times it's almost comforting as a smile.
Every little trait, however small
Doc himself wakes up covered in feathers frequently, which- how do they even get to his side of the room? Yes, he's aware Grian's bed and surrounding objects tend to be covered in the vibrant, eye piercing attachments, but they can't fly on their own-!
It's incredibly annoying.
Makes my very flesh begin to crawl
The room itself becomes a sort of disaster- feathers, glitter, ash, dirt and oil are everywhere. Grian picks up painting and Doc is 90% sure it's just to annoy him by covering his things in 'stray paint'.
With simple, utter loathing!
Often times, they butt heads (once literally) over the stupidest of things. Doc left a large bag of eaten sunflower seeds on Grian's bed, because birds like those (right?) and it felt like good enough revenge.. so Grian left dead flowers on his pillow that were actively rotting, because 'that should make butterflies sad.'
To be fair, Doc does have butterfly wings in shiny, opalescent colors.
There's a strange exhilaration
He'd never admit it, even under the strongest of strongest tortures, but getting to exercise the fun part of redstone by ruining Grian was..
It was so fun.
He was also unwillingly learning about Grian's craft, because the man refused to touch anything that looked remotely from the newest update. Weirdo.
In such total detestation
Grian was getting so aggressive ranting about his stupid roommate that even Mumbo was getting tired- Mumbo! He once built an entire tank in the span of 56 continuous hours of work!
"I'm glad you're very passionate about this. er. friend(?)"
Grian bats at him.
"Enemy."
It's so pure, so strong
Doc just fills him with such a nice, incomprehensible rage when he sees the goat hybrid's weird, green face!
Though I do admit it came on fast
Within a month of rooming with the other, a month of staring blankly at the other side of the room- Doc's gravitated towards 'war prisoner cell' while Grian's was 'I didn't have a childhood so I'm making up for it now' chic- a month?? It's only been a month? Grian's felt more anger here than in his entire life!
Still I do believe that it can last
Anyway, it's the dawn of the second month, when they're currently in another prank war (the others ended?) over some minor discrepancy Grian can't even bother to remember, which Mumbo has decided is 'stupid and meaningless'. Even still, it's not the worst fight they've had.
And I will be loathing, loathing you my whole life long-
On-campus, however, things look a little different-
Mainly, Grian is a vibrant person who radiates energy and draws people to him constantly. Doc is not.
People have... opinions on his roommate.
"Dear Grilinda, you are just too good!"
People hang off him as he ventures to class, begging for help with homework or help with their poor romance situation. Compliments, vents, rants and drama flood his senses every moment he exits his room. Currently, it's a pretty gal wearing a blue dress... her name was Yogurt? She's bitching about Doc, like most of them are.
Fair, considering Grian is actively shaking bird feed out of his feathers.
"How do you stand it? I don't think I could!"
Someone comments. He doesn't know who, turning around to face the group of not-quite-friend raving about the other.
"He's a terror, he's a tartar!"
Someone calls, hunching their back and using their fingers as claws to demonstrate the actual terror consuming any who dare look at Doc, making the others giggle and Grian snort.
"We don't mean to show a bias,"
Yogurt says with a wave of her hand, eyes moving to focus on Doc's lumbering form as he crosses the campus away from them.
"But, Grilinda, you're a martyr!"
Another girl, someone who's definitely been flirting with him for the past 3 months, clings to the front of his shirt. It would be more effective if she wasn't way taller than him and having to let her feet drag to achieve the needed effect instead of intimidation.
"Well, these things are sent to try us!"
He offers, lowering his eyelids and wings slightly. Brush off her weird complex and give maybe valuable advice! Nice!
Unfortunately, he catches the eye of Doc, who's raised an eyebrow and is watching him and his collection of people.
"Poor Grilinda, forced to reside!"
The girl notices, her tone turning to venom instantly as she shares glances with the people around her.
"With someone so disgusticified!"
She flicks a piece of hair out of her face, scowling aggressively as Grian watches Doc slip over. Uhhh-
"We just want to tell you, we're all on your side!"
More begging. Great. Wonderful. Grian is starting to understand why most people don't leave the house.
"We share your loathing!"
Tens of eyes turn to glare daggers into Doc's skull, who passive aggressively rolls his eyes and starts walking again.
Grian pushes into the cafeteria, letting a sigh slip from his mouth as he tries to acquire lunch with the infuriating feeling of the goat's calculating gaze on him every second.
What is this feeling, so sudden and new (unadulterated loathing)
He settles at a table, slipping out his half done essay comparing the mechanics of old time redstone and modern types. Half of it is bedazzled.
I felt the moment I laid eyes on you? (For her face, her voice, her clothing)
Doc gets a look that could kill and a pouch of paper filled with what he now knows is chunky glitter thrown at him, distracted from Grian's pouting face as the shorter tries to pick gems off the paper.
My pulse is rushing (let's just say)
In class, Grian finds himself with Doc's weird, modern redstone instead of the perfect, ancient powder he was supposed to bring. In return, Doc finds a firewall to his OWN BAG requiring him to input an entire research paper about the superiorities of version 1.0 or something's mechanics.
My head is reeling (we loathe it all)
He couldn't get past it. For all Grian's seemingly unintelligence, he sure knew how to code. For retribution (he also still couldn't access his bag), he told the office and spent the next night feeling Grian try to stare him to death.
Oh, what is this feeling? (Every little trait, however small)
"STOP USING MY ESSAYS FOR ARTS AND CRAFTS!"
"WRITE IT ON A COMPUTER NEXT TIME, YOU ANCIENT HOBO"
Does it have a name? (Makes our very flesh begin to crawl)
Grian ends up getting a computer. After leaving his feathers on Doc's side of the room again, the computer is ALSO BEDAZZLED.
Yes, ah, ah
Doc spends the next week with two neon pink bracelets wrapped around his horns, each saying 'slay queen' and 'girliepop' respectively. It backfires when, when Doc learns of these bracelets, he unironically starts wearing them normally.
Loathing (loathing)
The look of anger on Grian's face is enough to make getting called girliepop 15 times a worthy sacrifice.
There's a strange exhilaration (loathing)
They spend the next month battling robots, slowly creating the small mechanical beings infront of each other while glaring every second they thought the other had dared to look at what they're adding. Grian ends up dragging two of his friends into it, while Doc gets help from Ren (ah, Ren, a theater and building major) and X for some coding details.
In such total detestation (loathing)
The robots nearly blow up the building. They are not allowed to 'deal with their issues' via mechanics, anymore.
..
Justified.
It's so pure, so strong (so strong)
The rest of the year is a blur of blueprints flying into Doc's room, horrid pieces of... what even is this material? Corrupted obsidian mixed with bedrock?
Though I do admit it came on fast
They settle into some sort of rhythm, consisting mainly of wars over the pettiest of things-
Still I do believe that it can last
Battles over undone dishes and scattered laundry, preformed by complicated lines of code stitched together on 7 energy drinks just after an exam chasing down equally complicated machines made at an even worse time.
And I will be loathing, for forever loathing
Slowly, they creep closer to eachother- afterall, who better to get help on project from then the person who's going to be targeted by said machinations?
Truly, deeply loathing you (loathing you)
When finals come to pass, Grian crashes down ontop of Doc. On Doc's bed.
"Wha-"
"Shutup. You're warm. I haven't slept in 3 days."
My whole life long (loathing, unadulterated loathing)
For the next year, their dorm applications both have one suggestion:
Room me with that guy.