Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Consciousness comes to Tango slowly, mind bleary and still half-stuck in the space between awake and asleep. The first thing that registers is a piercing pain in his skull, which isn’t exactly a typical part of his average morning experience. With a small, pathetic grumble, he throws a hand over his eyes, hoping to make the headache die down at least a little.

It doesn’t really help, but at least there’s no sunlight burning his retinas anymore. He’s sorely tempted to go back to bed, but another sharp stab of pain hits, and his communicator starts beeping insistently, so he sighs, resigning himself to sitting up as a dull ache throbs behind his eyes.

He kind of has a weird, vague sense that something is wrong, and he frowns—he better not be getting sick, not when he has an entire minigame that still needs finishing. The lack of coffee in his general vicinity seems way more important, though, so he reluctantly drags himself out of bed with a yawn. Sleepily navigating to the kitchen, he runs through the menial task of making coffee, throwing in some milk and sugar just so the taste is more tolerable.

After he’s had a few healthy sips, he starts to feel more like a living person again and the sense of something-is-definitely-wrong becomes more of an issue.

He feels… he’s not sure how to describe it. Not alone? And yeah, sure, there could totally be someone in his base, but he doubts most people would bother this early. Also, most of his friends would rather set up a build or machine as a prank than lurk in a shadowy corner to give him a heart attack, so it’s kind of a weird thing to be experiencing.

Plus, there’s also steadily growing anxiety and panic building in his chest, but it doesn’t feel at all like his emotions. They’re almost distant, sort of like he’s experiencing them second-hand. Why would he even be upset, anyway? His head still does kind of hurt, but it’s a decent morning, and he has coffee in his hands.

In fact, when he focuses a little harder on those emotions, taking a contemplative sip of caffeine, he swears they kind of feel like Impulse. Like some part of him knows it’s Impulse, even though there’s no logical reason for him to think it has anything to do with Impy at all.

His mind summons up the memory of Impulse and Skizz explaining how their soulbond works, and he freezes, grip tightening on his mug as the gears in his mind turn. That can’t be it, right? They had to do some sort of complicated ritual-ification to link their souls together, and Tango’s pretty sure he would’ve noticed if he’d gotten involved in a ritual in his sleep. Probably.

Plus, they’d never do something like that without asking first. They may both have a shared interest in annoying Tango, and sometimes he kind of wants to strangle them (mostly Skizz) but there are some boundaries the Hermits just wouldn’t cross.

He tries to focus on finishing his coffee and putting the whole thing out of his mind. He does! But he just can’t seem to shake the idea or the weird anxiety, and the sooner he can convince himself everything is fine, the sooner he can get back to working on Hungry Hermits. Redstone minigames don’t exactly build themselves, after all.

He leaves the empty mug on a countertop to deal with later, going back to his bedroom to grab his communicator. But just as he picks it up, it beeps, a message popping up from Impulse in the ZITS group chat.

[ImpulseSV]

Meet me at my base ASAP

It feels an awful lot like the opposite of everything being fine. But Tango’s not about to entertain his theory too much, not without any concrete proof to back it up yet. Maybe he’s just going crazy from prolonged redstone exposure, who knows?

He changes into his usual outfit, still coated in a fair amount of redstone dust from the day before, because he’s pretty sure Impulse didn’t mean that he should show up in his pajamas. Whatever’s going on, it can’t be that urgent, right? Also, he hasn’t eaten anything, and his stomach growls in complaint, but he figures he can just snack on a porkchop on the way there, or steal something from Impy’s storage if he really needs to.

Finally, a few minutes later, he leaves his base and steps outside, double-checking he has his elytra on and won’t splat into Tango-bits on the ground before shooting off into the air and setting course for the cyberpunk city. It’s not exactly a long flight, considering they’re almost close enough to be neighbors. Neighbor-adjacent? That sounds right.

He’s pretty sure Impulse is probably holed away in his storage-room-slash-home-base, so he swoops down to the entrance of the building. The redstone door is already open, and he pauses at the entrance, noting that Skizz and Impulse are already inside, discussing something out of earshot. The energy in the air feels… weird.

It sets Tango on edge, which isn’t helped by the secondhand nervousness of someone else—or maybe more than one someone else?—but Zedaph landing right next to him makes for a nice distraction. Especially with that windswept, curly blonde hair and easygoing smile that Tango is a little too aware he has a soft spot for.

Zed gives him a curious look, like a puzzle he hasn’t quite solved yet, gaze lingering for a minute before he turns to go greet Impulse and Skizz.

They abruptly stop their conversation, and Impulse avoids their eyes as he waves them in. “Hey, guys.”

Tango catalogues the anxiety etched into Impulse’s expression and posture, as well as the faint edge of uncertainty to Skizz’s smile, and it does nothing to dissuade his theory of why, exactly, they’re here.

“So… I’m guessing this is about your soulbond, correct?” Zedaph pipes up first, hands in his cardigan pockets, apparently having reached the same conclusion as Tango.

Skizz’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“I’ve got some very Impulse-shaped anxiety in my chest, and I’m pretty sure my anxiety isn’t normally Impulse-shaped!” Zed teases, lighthearted, but he doesn’t poke too much fun.

Impulse huffs, giving them a slightly guilty smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. Tango, I’m assuming it’s the same for you?”

Tango has very purposely avoided thinking about it. The second he lets himself turn his attention to and acknowledge the foreign emotions, it’s crystal clear. He really shouldn’t have doubted himself, because he was totally right. Anxiety still thrums lowly, and it still feels distinctly like Impulse, but there’s more—curiosity from Zed and something like nervous excitement with an aura of Skizz.

“…Yeah. What happened?”

Impulse seems to deflate as he frowns, his thin, heart-tipped tail flicking back and forth at an unusually fast pace. “We don’t know. Things like this aren’t supposed to just happen, not without a reason, but our bond isn’t something that’s been done before. I thought I understood how it worked, but… I guess I was wrong.”

Impulse’s stress levels are very much increasing, and Tango is decidedly unsure how to help. His brain is tailored to fixing redstone problems and building complex machines, stuff that’s based on logic and follows a certain set of rules. Magic? Not exactly his area of expertise. Magic is finicky and weird and all over the place, and he tries not to seek it out too much for a reason.

Unfortunately, it’s decided to seek him out instead.

Skizz sets a hand on Impulse’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring look. “Whatever it is, I’m sure with your brain working on it, we’ll figure it out soon.”

He pauses, looking back to Tango and Zed. “If you don’t mind me asking, how are you two feeling about this?”

“Couldn’t you just… check yourself?” Zedaph tilts his head with a little pulse of confusion.

Skizz shrugs. “I could, but I won’t exactly get details. Besides, this is all very new to you guys, and I don’t wanna invade your privacy too much.”

Tango takes a second to reflect, picking at his claws just to have something to do with his hands. He’s—well, Impulse’s anxiety isn’t exactly helping him feel any less apprehensive, but it’s ZITS. There are definitely worse people to have his soul tied to, and he did have a soulmate in Double Life, so at least he’s got a little experience. Kind of.

Those soulbonds were more about linking two lives together than they were anything else, though, and the participants weren't really supposed to feel emotions through them, at least not to this extent.

“It could be a lot worse,” Tango eventually reasons. “your bond is the non-lethal kind, right? Just to double-check.”

Impulse nods, clearly getting what he’s really asking about, and Tango’s relieved to hear it. He’d really rather not explode-ificate just because Skizz flew into a wall or Impulse got Gemini-slayed, because that would get inconvenient really fast. And that’s not even counting Zed’s various semi-deadly minigames! Secondhand impalement does not sound like a happy fun time.

“I, for one, think this is a fantastic opportunity to learn how this kind of magic works. Explanations hardly do it justice!” Zedaph’s eyes are sparkling with the kind of joy he only seems to get from the unknown.

Tango’s not even a little surprised. Where there’s questions to be answered, there’s Zedaph—usually in a lab coat and goggles. While his own motivations are a little less scientifically oriented, Tango can’t deny that he’d had curiosity of his own about how their soulbond works. Sure, they’d talked about it before, but like Zed pointed out, an explanation is a hell of a lot different compared to living through it yourself.

Feeling a thread, a connection to them that leads to all their emotions is… something unlike Tango’s ever experienced before.

Not that he’s experienced much crazy magic in his lifetime, but it’s Hermitcraft. He was pretty much destined to have weird experiences the moment he joined the server for the first time.

Impulse suddenly straightens, a metaphorical lightbulb practically going off over his head. “Grian’s good with code and magic, isn’t he? He might be able to help me figure this whole thing out.”

“Gemstone told me they were goin’ on some kinda adventure today, so if you wanna catch him, you should probably go now.” Skizz points out as he checks the time on his comm.

Impulse hesitates, casting a hesitant glance towards the group. “…Are you sure you guys don’t need me to stick around?”

“We’ll live,” Tango comments dryly, giving Impulse his best attempt at a reassuring look. “Let us know if he finds anything interesting.”

With a wave and a quick goodbye, Impulse leaves in a hurry, and Tango begins contemplating if this is a good time to get back to Hungry Hermits. He does love his friends and all, but some time alone to process might also be nice. Or, you know, not process anything and lose himself in redstone logic instead. Either way is fine.

“Listen, you two. We’re gonna work out how this happened eventually, but in the meantime, we should probably find a time to discuss how the soulbond works. No sense leaving you guys in the dark, right?” Skizz smiles, almost seeming back to his usual self.

It’s not as convincing as it should be, considering Tango can feel the edge of nervousness and worry underneath it, but he’s not sure if he should say something about it or just let it go. He… in a way, he almost feels like an intruder. Impulse and Skizz’s bond was their thing, and Tango doesn’t know any of the rules to this game.

“I don’t have any plans other than working on the redstone noodles, so I’m available whenever.”

Zedaph contemplates, rocking back on his heels. “I’ve got some very important noodles of my own to finish tonight, but tomorrow I should be redstone-free!”

“I’ll bug Dippledop about it later, but tomorrow is probably fine.” Skizz hesitates, smile waning a little. “Are you two really doing okay? I know it’s a lot to get sprung on you like this.”

Zed softens, directing a comforting smile in Skizz’s direction. “Of course. I would’ve said so if I wasn’t, though I would like to know what caused our souls to get all tangled up. Who knows, though? Maybe this could be a good thing.”

Expectant blue eyes turn to him, and Tango shoves his hands in his pockets to suppress the itch to fidget. “I’m fine, just need a little time to think about it. Magic’s not exactly my strong suit.”

Relief pulses from Skizz, and Tango blinks, wondering just how much that was bothering him. He didn’t really think they’d be upset, did he? Zed’s naturally curious about everything, and Tango doesn’t mind being linked at all. Yeah, sure, there’s still stuff that’s gotta be figured out, but that’s a tomorrow problem.

“I’m gonna head out, then.” Tango tilts his head towards the doorway, having no real reason to stick around any longer.

“Oh, me too. See you later, Skizz!” Zedaph turns to follow him as he starts walking towards the door.

“Fly safe!” Skizz calls after them, and Tango takes off into the sky, heading towards the cave that houses Hungry Hermits to immerse himself in something he actually understands.

Chapter Text

From the moment Tango wakes up to whatever time he eventually drags himself to bed, the bond is active. Not that it’s surprising or anything, he knew it wasn’t exactly going to just go away, but still… it’s an adjustment.

It’s nestled in his chest, something intangible that he can feel, alive in the way only magic really is. A thread he can follow to the others any time he wants, or so he’s heard from Skizz. Supposedly, he’s always able to find Impulse no matter where he is just by using the bond as a homing beacon, but Tango isn’t exactly proficient enough for that yet.

If he immerses his mind in redstone enough, losing himself in the endless lines and circuits that power various aspects of his game, it’s a lot less of an adjustment. No time to pay attention to the magic bond if he’s busy, right? But he has a feeling that’s not gonna work out long term, since it just becomes a thing again as soon as he stops working. And, besides that, there’s no way he can get away with just staying in the noodles all the time anymore.

Not with his three best friends now being able to know exactly how he’s doing without having to physically come bug him—he’s sure to end up on the receiving end of a lecture if he overworks himself too much.

It’s… disconcerting, being seen, known like this. He pauses briefly while placing down an observer, and they come into startling focus; Zedaph’s confusion, Skizz’s mirth, Impulse’s frustration. Their emotions linger in his chest, leaving an imprint on his soul, and he wonders, then, how much they’ve been paying the same attention to him.

Shaking his head to try and get rid of that mildly uncomfortable thought, he resolves himself to just keep focusing on redstone for the time being. That, at least, makes sense to him—most of the time, anyway.

He can’t let himself get too lost in it, though, since he’s expecting a message from Skizz at some point today. He’s pretty sure the other three would be less than pleased if he misses their meetup or shows up late, and he’s not a very big fan of upsetting his friends. His work habits were bad enough last season, and he's not particularly interested in repeating that experience a second time.

He’s actually trying to get enough sleep and take care of himself these days, so any concern is mostly unwarranted. Kind of. Skizz in particular is very prone to being overprotective from time to time, and Tango does think it’s sweet, if a bit annoying. There’s not much he can do about it, though, considering he doesn’t have the heart to stop Skizz from trying to take care of him, even when he doesn’t really need it.

His communicator buzzes, dragging him out of his thoughts, and he stops in the middle of connecting a new line of redstone, not even bothering to wipe the glittering red dust off his hands as he checks it. To his mild disappointment, it’s just a conversation in the main chat, and not anything from Skizz. Not that he should be disappointed, all his friends are great, but it’s also not what he was hoping for.

A few minutes pass, and then his comm goes off again, and this time, he can’t suppress the little spark of excitement when he sees its from Skizz in their ZITS group chat.

[Skizzleman]

Time to meet at Dippledop’s place?

Typing up a quick confirmation, he wipes as much of the dust off his hands as he can, dropping his redstone supplies in a shulker haphazardly. Not bothering with portal travel, he rockets out of the cave, the sunlight briefly blinding him after working in dim lighting for so long. Blinking furiously until his eyes adjust, he heads in the general direction of Magic Mountain.

He’s a little tempted to try using the bond to locate Impulse, but he’s also pretty sure he can find him without needing a magic cheat code. Plus, messing around with the bond unsupervised is probably a bad idea. And if he’s gonna commit to a bad idea, he’d much rather do it while he’s not in the middle of the sky and in danger of deadly splat-ification.

The cyberpunk city comes into view and Tango leans into a dive, flying past purposely derelict buildings and brightly colored skyscrapers to land neatly in front of the storage room. The door is already open, so he strolls inside, unsurprised to see Impulse and Skizz already together. Makes sense, considering the flight over is a lot shorter when you’re next-door neighbors.

Tango’s usually the next closest to them geographically, but he wasn’t at his base, which definitely lengthened his travel time.

“Is Zed late or something?” Tango walks a little closer, catching a spike of indignance from Zed’s end of the bond right as the sound of footsteps on stone becomes audible.

“Fashionably, I’ll have you know.” An accented voice chimes in with a huff, and Tango turns to catch Zedaph in his peripheral.

“Fashionably late is still late.” He teases back with a grin.

Zed smiles, voice taking on a playful tone. “But at least I’m being fashionable, Tango! Someone has to be the prettiest person in the room.”

“Not much of a competition there, Zeddlebop.” Skizz joins in effortlessly, never one to pass up a bit of fun.

“Why, thank you! You’re not so bad yourself.” Zed winks flirtatiously at Skizz as he saunters further into the room.

“Let’s not get too sidetracked,” Impulse reminds them with a hint of fond exasperation. “otherwise none of us will remember what we’re here for.”

“Also, to warn you in advance, we have no idea what we’re doing. If we’re bad teachers, you can’t be too hard on us, m’kay?” Skizz settles himself on the floor, beckoning them to join him.

Tango briefly wonders if Impulse owns any chairs, and then remembers it’s Impulse, and he definitely wouldn’t have them in here—chairs are rarely a priority in a storage room, anyway. Function over comfort, right? Once they’re all seated, Skizz starts talking again, fully in teaching mode.

“You’ve already heard the story of how we got the bond in the first place, but I wanna really drive home that we’re dealing with old magic here. Completely unique, too—sure, the ritual we followed has been done before, but we knew going into it that angels and demons aren’t meant to be linked like that. We created something brand-new.”

Impulse picks up where Skizz left off, offering them a slight smile. “Which is why there’s a lot we don’t know about it, including how you two got bound to us in the first place. But with enough years, you do get a hang of the basics, and that’s what we’re aiming to teach you.”

His voice is even, steady, but Tango can feel echoes of his nervousness. It makes sense—who knows if this stuff even can be taught? Maybe they’ll come away from this just having to figure it out themselves, though Tango hopes it’ll go at least a little better than that.

“The first thing we should probably talk about is closing your end of the bond. Dippledop and I prefer keeping it open, but that’s up to you. Think of it like a stream of flowing water—if you block off your current, then we can’t sense your emotions, and you can’t feel ours.”

“We’re gonna try to guide you through it, okay? Close your eyes.”

Tango follows along, albeit a little reluctantly, fidgeting with his hands. He can feel little granules of redstone dust stuck to his fingers, a consequence from not bothering to properly wash them off. Having no vision of Skizz is slightly off-putting, considering his propensity for pranks, but Tango trusts him not to shoot him in the face. Mostly.

“Alright, now you’re gonna need to try and focus only on the bond.” Impulse instructs, and Tango turns his attention inwards.

He almost wishes he could actually see what the bond looks like. Instead, he just settles for trying to immerse himself only in the magic, the emotions, and nothing else. Not quite as simple as it sounds, considering clearing his mind is a lot easier said than done.

“Like Skizz said, you can imagine your end is like a river, or maybe a tether, something along those lines. You can probably feel it linking you to us, right? Now, try and imagine blocking the flow of water, or breaking the connection. Really try and envision that idea.”

Tango concentrates on the mental image of scissors in hand, cutting through the soulbond—which he pictures as a red string—and the bond flickers briefly. Almost. He tries again, and this time, as the scissors sever the thread, the emotions that he’d gotten so accustomed to vanish like they’d never been there in the first place.

For the first time in over a day, it’s… quiet. He feels strangely alone, the space where the link would be hollow, and there’s nothing other than the faintest echo of magic. No feelings other than his own. It’s kind of uncomfortable, to be honest—the absence of the bond is glaringly obvious, and it doesn't feel right at all.

“It’s like a hole in my chest, like something vitally important is missing.” Zedaph’s voice is quiet, tone unreadable, and Tango cracks an eye open to sneak a glance at his face. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks… disappointed.

“That’s why we don’t close it off. Plus, it’s kinda a pretty big giveaway to the other person that something’s wrong, y’know? But the reason we’re teaching you is so you get the choice to stay a part of this or disconnect completely. No hard feelings, whatever you choose.” Skizz wings withdraw further behind his back, and Tango closes his eyes again before anyone catches him peeking.

“So, that being said, now we’re gonna open the bond back up. It’s still there, just dormant, right? Focus on it again, keeping those metaphors we told you in mind, and imagine removing the block you’d placed, undoing what you just did.”

If the bond was like light, it’s dimmer now. But very faintly, Tango can still feel it, and he reaches out, pulling it towards himself like he might when using his own magic, and slowly but surely, it returns back to what it had been before. Emotions burrow in his chest—a flicker of uncertainty from Skizz, relief from Zedaph.

“You can open your eyes. Now that you know sort of how to interact with the bond, it’s pretty much the basis of everything else you can do with it. For example, tracking a specific person is as simple as focusing on their side of the bond, and you’ll start to feel yourself almost… pulled to go in a direction.” Impulse stands up, stretching, and Skizz joins him.

“Time for a little bit of fun. Skizz and I are going to take off and hide in two different places, and when we say ready in chat, Tango, you’re gonna go after Skizz, and Zed, you’ll be looking for me.” Impulse barely finishes his sentence before Skizz is shooting out the door in a flurry of rockets, and Impulse just sighs before flying after him.

And then there were two.

“So, uh… how’s the weather?” Tango jokes, checking his communicator.

“Stormy with a chance of Imp and Skizz.” Zedaph replies lightheartedly, sheep ears flicking forwards as he pulls out his own sticker-covered pink and yellow comm.

It doesn’t take long for messages to ding on both of their devices, and Tango exchanges a glance with Zed before running out the door, soaring up into the sky. He spots Zed veering off towards Scar’s base in his peripheral, and he slows into an aimless glide, focusing specifically on Skizz. Excitement, impatience, joy—and a tug in the direction of the shopping district.

He lets it guide him as he flies, scanning the landscape in front of him in case he can spot Skizz early. The pull only grows stronger as he nears Impulse’s quartz shop, and then begins to fade as he flies over it, so he turns around to land at the entrance. A quick flutter of anticipation from Skizz lets him know he’s in the right place, and he smothers the urge to roll his eyes.

“Not a very creative hiding spot, Skizz. I have to say, I kind of expected better.” He teases as he steps inside, and Skizz just giggles from one of the corners, approaching to pull Tango into a hug.

Tango pats him on the back, fully aware that the chances of successfully escaping a Skizz hug are slim to none. Also, Skizz is tall and warm and generally pillow-shaped, so an instinctual part of Tango is all too happy to relax into the embrace, tail curling around Skizz’s ankle.

If asked, Tango would probably say he’s not a very tactile person. Not when he’s known Skizz forever, and whatever casual touches Tango gives pale in comparison. But that’s not to say that he doesn’t like physical touch—in fact, he loves it. Especially when it comes from Impy, Zed, or Skizz, but he keeps that particular bias to himself.

“Should we go check on Dippledop and Zeddlebop?” Skizz eventually asks, pulling back.

Tango resolutely squashes any lingering sense of disappointment from the sudden lack of Skizz in his personal space, and instead opts for sarcasm. “I bet Impy picked a really interesting place to hide, unlike someone else I know.”

“Hey! It wasn’t that bad.” Skizz protests, and Tango just turns away to leave the shop, certain that Skizz will follow.

He shrugs, a smile playing at his lips. “You picked Impulse’s shop specifically, and yet you wonder why Gem says you two are obsessed with each other.”

He takes off without waiting for a response, heading straight towards the… colorful shopping district portals Pearl built. Familiar white wings appear in the corner of his eye as Skizz catches up, throwing a smirk in Tango’s direction as he easily outpaces him.

“Pretty slow today, huh, Top?” He taunts loudly, and Tango shoots him a dirty look as Skizz angles down into a landing, Tango not too far behind him.

“If it was a fair race, you’d be using an elytra like the rest of us.”

“Says the guy who got a head start and still lost.” Skizz pushes him gently with one wing, all too smug about his victory.

Arguing and making fun of each other is their love language at this point, so Tango doesn’t take it personally, instead shoving Skizz back in retaliation. “Jerkface.”

He steps into the portal before they can get any more off-track, and he’s briefly dizzied by the dimensional transportation, a wave of heat hitting him as he emerges into the Nether. To most species, it would probably be uncomfortable, but to Tango, it’s like a warm blanket. It’s nice, and his instincts always want him to linger, but he tends not to venture beyond the roof unless necessary—being netherkin doesn’t exactly exclude him from getting attacked by some of the dimension’s less friendly inhabitants.

He moves away from the portal frame in hopes of avoiding getting hit by Skizz’s massive wings, only to end up getting smacked in the face with feathers anyway the second Skizz appears. He pushes the offending limb away with an annoyed huff, but Skizz is unbothered.

“Oops, sorry about that.” He doesn’t look particularly sorry as he grins, mischief sparking as he brushes past Tango to walk towards Impulse’s portal.

Tango glares pointedly at his back before following, silently wishing he had wings of his own to get back at the other man. Unfortunately, nether hybrids are typically wingless, and even with Tango’s mixed heritage, he doesn’t have any winged species in his bloodline.

They go through one more portal, Tango having to shake off the sudden chill that always seems to come with realms other than the Nether, and then it’s as simple as dropping down and pressing a button to enter the storage room again. Impulse and Zedaph are already back, presumably due to Skizz and Tango’s messing around delaying their arrival.

“How’d it go? Top tracked me down right away.” Skizz runs a hand through one of his wings as he asks, a few stray feathers coming loose and drifting to the floor.

Another one of Skizz’s favorite ways to mildly inconvenience his friends is by leaving feathers all over their bases like some kind of balding chicken. Tango has, unfortunately, found feathers in his redstone multiple times already this season, and he… might have saved them somewhere instead of throwing them out. Not that Skizz knows that, and Tango’s not about to tell him, either.

His wings are actually a bit of a mess, now that Tango’s looking, and he watches Skizz casually pluck a leaf out of his feathers with a slight grimace.

“Zed did great! He found me pretty fast, even though I thought my hiding spot in Scar’s zoo train chest monster was decent.”

“Skizz made it easy for me and hid in Impy’s quartz shop.” Tango mocks, pretending to be disappointed, even though he’s fully aware the odds of him finding Skizz without the bond were approximately zero.

He probably would’ve just overthought it. You never check the obvious places first, right? So he’d likely have ended up going all around the shopping district, stopping at the completely wrong spots and managing to miss Skizz completely. Powers of observation, and all that.

Impulse sighs, a smile playing at his lips. “We really aren’t beating the obsessed allegations, are we?”

“Why would we want to?” Skizz smirks, shaking out his wings a little.

They’re obviously bothering him, but Skizz isn’t the type of guy to bring attention to himself when something more ‘important’ is going on. Tango focuses on the part of the bond that leads to him, which he’d describe as blue if that made any sense, and discomfort hums underneath Skizz’s affection and good mood.

“Itchy wings?” Zedaph frowns sympathetically, taking a step closer to gently rest a hand on Skizz’s feathers.

Skizz leans into the contact almost immediately with a small shudder. “Yeah… been a minute since I had time to take care of ‘em.”

Tango knows they have the exact same idea as he locks gazes with Zedaph, and Impulse is emanating fondness-acceptance-mirth, so he’s definitely on board, too. Not that Tango doubted him—Skizz usually goes to Impulse to have his wings preened and taken care of, but the whole server is equipped to help him if he needs it. Plus, Tango has plenty of practice of his own, a bonus from befriending so many winged people.

“Alright, sit down then, wing boy.” Tango instructs, voice a little more fond than he meant it to be, and Impulse chuckles at his antics as Skizz eases himself down onto the stone floor, turning so his wings face them.

Like a well-oiled machine, they take position behind him, Tango on the left, Impulse on the right, and Zedaph directly in the middle for maximum efficiency. Skizz’s wings are absolutely huge, especially as he stretches them out fully, and they take up most of the space in the room.

Tango reaches out to start methodically combing through the wing in front of him, brushing out dirt and debris while keeping an eye out for loose feathers. If he finds any, he gently pulls them out, setting them in a neat pile next to him. The second they’d started, tension noticeably drained from Skizz, and he only seems to relax more every second.

He’s swaying in place a little, Tango notes, but he’s pretty sure Skizz isn’t about to faceplant. Probably. That can happen with avians, but Skizz technically isn’t one, so hopefully he doesn’t end up smashing his face into the floor. It’s a nice face, all things considered, and Tango would prefer it stay uninjured. Anybody with working eyes would know Skizz is a pretty attractive looking guy, so Tango’s just… objectively making an observation. Right?

He quickly decides he really shouldn’t continue that train of thought right now (or ever) and tries to focus fully on the task at hand, motivated by the growing affection and sleepiness radiating from Skizz.

In a way, preening wings always reminds him a little of redstone. Yeah, sure, it’s not as complicated, and gives him a lot less headaches, but they’re both methodical, repetitive activities. When redstone makes sense and he doesn’t have to use all of his brainpower on it, it’s soothing. Comforting.

Running careful fingers through Skizz’s wings isn’t so different, not really. The only difference is that it gets to be relaxing for more than one person, and Tango suppresses a yawn as he leans to work on a different patch of feathers. He hasn’t been… exactly on top of keeping a decent sleeping schedule lately. It’s not awful or anything, but it’s not great, either, considering he’s not known for being good at keeping track of time.

Doesn’t help that his main project is in a cave, and noticing that the sun isn’t out anymore is kind of difficult when you’re under layers and layers of stone, tinkering with redstone lines.

One of the upsides of preening is that there’s a 100% chance Skizz will want to cuddle after they’re done, so Tango probably has time to squeeze in a nap. In fact, he’s pretty sure they’d be overjoyed if he so much as suggested it, considering no one seems to have forgotten how little he was sleeping last season.

Finishing the ends of one wing, he scoots to the right to work his way through a new area, deftly cleaning feathers and straightening them. He’s so preoccupied with his work that the next time he moves, he accidentally ends up with his thigh pressed against Zedaph’s. His fingers stutter at the unexpected touch, and he risks a glance over as his heartbeat picks up—but Zed isn’t looking at him.

In fact, he doesn’t seem to notice anything at all, tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as he concentrates fully on the task at hand.

Tango tries to follow his example and continues with Skizz’s wing, though the point of contact between Zed is surprisingly hard to ignore. It shouldn’t be distracting at all, considering he’s had years of hugs and cuddles to get used to physical touch from his friends. But, if he’s honest with himself… his chest always tends to get a little fluttery around certain people who may or may not all be in the same room as him.

His hands still as he realizes there’s no more feathers he needs to adjust; he’s finished on his side. Looking over at Impulse, he’s a little surprised to find the other man already looking back, and Impulse just inclines his head towards Skizz’s right wing, now perfectly in order. Not exactly surprising, since Impy’s had a lot of practice—knowing him, he’s probably figured out some fast and ultra-efficient way to preen wings by now.

With nothing more to do other than wait for Zed, Tango begins gently petting Skizz’s feathers, admiring them as he does. He’s seen Skizz’s wings in plenty of different colors and patterns, considering he likes to switch it up for Life series seasons, but they’re always beautiful no matter what they look like. Soft, too, even though he knows there’s an impressive amount of muscles underneath the sea of white.

“Done!” Zedaph announces quietly, probably trying to avoid startling anyone.

Skizz isn’t exactly running on full brain capacity at the moment, not to mention he’s clearly sleepy and looking about ready to pass out on the floor. Preening always seems to have that effect on avians and other feathered species, which means it can be used as a tactic to combat lack of sleep and insomnia. Scar’s mentioned it once or twice, since apparently he and Mumbo have a system in place for their neighborhood pesky bird.

Impulse gets up to kneel in front of Skizz, overwhelming softness lingering in his expression. “Can you walk like this, buddy?”

Tango stretches as he rises from his sitting position, his bones popping and cracking in several places, and then he walks over, joined by Zedaph, to stand by Impulse. Skizz blinks at them, a little dazed as his wings withdraw into their typical relaxed position.

“You already know the answer to that.”

Impulse shakes his head fondly. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Tango feels it the second Impulse uses magic—like a tug on his soul, almost, which is weird. Even weirder, despite never learning the ins and outs of demon magic, a part of him just… instinctively knows that Impulse had cast something to make the task of carrying a tall, muscular angel easier. Impy can definitely carry Tango and Zed with no issues (and has before) but they’re unfortunately shorter and distinctly wingless.

Impulse picks up Skizz in a bridal carry, the muscles in the arms flexing as he lifts the other man with minimal effort, and Tango stares for probably a little longer than he should, especially considering it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. His maybe-not-so-platonic feelings are extremely high on the metaphorical list of things Tango does not want to deal with, though, so he tries to push it out of his mind.

“Is it normal for the bond to feel funny when you use magic?” Zedaph tilts his head inquisitively, a puzzled look on his face.

Impulse pauses mid-step, but then carries on walking to his bedroom, Tango and Zed trailing behind. “I guess we forgot to explain that, huh? Well, the soulbond involves sharing magic, to an extent—it’s part of the reason Skizz’s magic generally can’t hurt me.”

“Sharing magic?” Zed echoes, curious. “How does that work?”

“I can’t exactly harness angel magic, and I doubt you could use mine, either, but our magic is… I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s sort of mixed together? Like, the base magical power is a shared resource that all of us can draw from, but your specific kind of magic stays unique to you. That’s what you felt, if I had to guess.”

Impulse sets Skizz down on the bed, which has doubled in size since the last time Tango saw it. Which was a while ago, to be fair, and it was definitely a necessary upgrade, considering a lot of Hermits are big fans of cuddling.

He continues speaking as he sits down, unlacing his yellow and black boots. “If you’ve ever had problems with magical exhaustion, it’s unlikely to happen again while you’re linked with us. With more energy to expend, it’s a lot harder to use it all up. Possible, in theory, but I don’t think we wanna try that one out.”

Zedaph’s eyes are alight with scientific fascination, the cogs in his brain obviously working overtime. “Do you think it would wear all of us out if that happened? What if a person without magic gained access to the bond?”

Tango kicks off his own combat boots, content to let Zed ask all the important questions as he flops onto the bed next to Skizz. Tango might as well be comfortable while he listens to their conversation, right? He burrows into Skizz’s side contentedly, a low purr starting in the back of his throat as Skizz slings a scarred arm over him.

Impulse chuckles, amused. “Yes, it probably would, and I have no idea. It’s not like we can test it, considering I’m pretty sure you’ve got something magical going on.”

“Keeping it a mystery is more fun,” Zed grins mischievously. “but you’re not wrong.”

“Good enough for me.” Impulse shrugs, laying down and making himself comfortable on the bed.

He leaves a space between himself and Skizz for Zed, and Tango watches sleepily as Zed quickly joins the cuddle pile, before his eyes slip closed to the sound of rustling sheets, too tired to keep paying attention. Impulse murmurs something, Zedaph replying just as softly, but Skizz’s breathing has already evened out by now, and Tango isn’t far behind him.

Chapter Text

Tango wouldn’t consider himself to be a particularly introspective kind of guy, so he hasn’t put much thought into the soulbond, not really. What else is there to think about? Sure, from a technical standpoint, it’s interesting, and from an emotional standpoint, Tango likes having it more than he probably should, but it’s not like contemplating its existence is going to actually change anything about it.

Plus, he’d kind of like to finish his minigame sometime in the near future, hopefully, and there’s not much room in his mind for anything other than the mechanical world of circuits and logic once he gets going. No matter how he feels about the bond or how much it effects his life going forward, Tango’s not going to let any kind of magic interfere too much with his redstone progress.

From the limited thinking he has done, mostly late at night when he can’t sleep, he’s decided he has… mixed feelings on his emotions being shared. Sure, he’s never really tried to keep them hidden, not unless he really has to, but it’s still weird having them completely out in the open like that. Even though he’d been given the option to close the bond off and not deal with it at all, he’s not a big fan of that idea either, so he’s settled on just trying to make peace with everything the bond entails. 

As much as he’d initially assumed the soulbond would be hard to adjust to, especially considering his limited experience with magic, now that he’s had it a few days, it’s slotted neatly into his life like it’s always been there. It’s… nice. Just another part of his normal day-to-day, now.

But that’s not relevant to the redstone he’s supposed to be working on. He glares at the lines at his feet like they’ve personally offended him, because for some reason, his brain is refusing to work properly today. He keeps spacing out, which isn’t helpful at all, and he blows out an annoyed breath, trying to center his mind on the task at hand as he places another comparator down.

Luckily, he keeps detailed, if messy, notes on all his games, so at least he’s not trying to go purely off memory alone and can easily double-check what he needs to get done next.

For a while, he manages to finally sink into redstone hyperfocus, fixing a couple known issues and making great headway on building up some of the bigger systems. He’s midway through working on the rat dispensers when his concentration is suddenly shattered by a sharp flash of anxiety and frustration from Impulse, causing him to freeze mid-step. It’s a lot like getting cold water dumped over his head, and his tail flicks back and forth anxiously as he waits to see if it dies down at all.

He stands there for a long minute, a little too aware of how unsettlingly quiet the cave is when the game is off and he’s not tinkering with it, and he can’t stop feeling Impulse’s flood of stress. It’s not stopping, and he slowly comes to the realization that maybe it’s not going to.

Staring blankly at the maze of complex redstone spaghetti sprawling out in every direction, he debates with himself. Is it worth going to see Impulse? Does he even want company? Tango’s work suddenly feels a whole lot less important right now, comparatively.

Reassurance-worry-comfort pulses from Skizz, and Tango figures he’s probably on his way now, as he’s definitely an expert when it comes to everything Impulse-related. Would Tango’s presence just be an inconvenience, then? Skizz’ll surely help Impulse calm down, give him a hand with whatever’s bothering him so much, but… now Tango is tuned into their frequency, catching every little shift in emotion from them both, and he can’t focus.

It wouldn’t be so bad to take a small break, would it? He's been working for a long time anyway, and his joints are a little sore, so it might be a good time for one. Impulse’s emotions dull a little, less intense now, but Tango just picks at his claws, unable to convince himself that he should prioritize his work. Finally, with a frustrated huff, he gives in, dumping all his redstone supplies back into their designated color-coded shulker box.

He wipes the dust off his hands onto his pants, which are red for the exact reason that redstone is less visible on them, and rockets straight out of Hungry Hermits and into the warm air and irritatingly bright sunlight outside of his cave. He squints against the light, landing somewhat haphazardly in the gaming district portal to quickly travel dimensions.

The flames nestled in his chest sing at the heat settling on his skin as he flies towards the portal to his factory, but he doesn’t pay them any mind—he’s on a mission, and he has no reason to stop and take in the sights. It doesn’t occur to him until after he’s stepped out of the copper gears that he should’ve gone through Impy’s portal instead, but he’s already outside now. Why waste more time by backtracking?

He soars over the gloomy riverside village Gem’s been steadily constructing, heading straight towards the familiar buildings dotting the skyline of the cyberpunk city. He still keeps a metaphorical eye on Impulse’s emotions along the way, just in case they get any worse, but they haven’t yet, at least.

Anxiety and frustration still simmer lowly, but Impulse isn’t feeling as bad anymore, and Tango should probably just turn around and go back to his minigame and forget all about this, but he’s too committed now. He’s gonna see Impulse for himself, make sure he’s okay, and then get back to working on his never-ending list of things to do.

The door to Impulse’s storage room is broken again, but half of it is open-ish, and Tango catches a glimpse of Skizz through one of the gaps, though he already guessed he would be here. Impulse is frowning, expression downcast, but Skizz has a wing around his shoulder, saying something to him quietly. Neither of them seem to have noticed Tango yet. Somewhat hesitantly, he steps inside, not sure how to announce his presence.

Fortunately, he doesn’t end up needing to, because Skizz spots him, eyes lighting up. “Top!”

Impulse turns, surprise flickering across his features. “Tango?”

Feeling a little put on the spot, Tango hesitates, trying to think of a good reason for just showing up out of nowhere like this, but Skizz beats him to it, expression softening.

“You felt it too, huh?”

Excuses die on Tango’s tongue and he clears his throat awkwardly, face warming as he looks away. “I mean, yeah. I was just… a little worried, that’s all.”

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” Impulse smiles reassuringly, but the bond twinges with something guilty, immediately giving him away.

Skizz clearly notices it too, judging by the doubtful look he gives Impulse. “Nice try, buddy, but we know better. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Impulse hesitates, thinking it over, before he scrubs a tired hand over his face. “Yeah, why not. I still can’t figure out how the soulbond thing happened in the first place, even with Grian’s help. And as much as I’m glad it’s you and Zed, it’s been kind of driving me crazy because I don’t like the idea that something could’ve potentially messed with our bond.”

“Did you ask G if there were any signs of foul play?” Tango finds himself gravitating to Impulse’s side, tail instinctively curling around Impulse’s own in a gesture of comfort.

A sigh, though Impulse leans into Tango, accepting the touch. “He said he couldn’t find anything, but that didn’t make me feel much better, clearly.”

His tone is self-deprecating as he says it, and Tango intertwines his fingers with Impulse’s, squeezing his hand. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe not today, but we know a lot of people with magical expertise. One of them is bound to know something, or at least have a theory.”

Impulse wavers, but eventually he gives a tired little smile, accompanied by a soft wave of affection. “You’re right. And not to inflate Skizz’s ego too much, but I think I do need a break. Just for today.”

“Yeah? Sounds like a good time for a nice, chill hangout session. No building, no redstone, no productivity.” Skizz dips into a lower octave, soothing and calm, blue eyes soft as he looks at them.

Tango scoffs in faux offense, a playful edge creeping into his voice. “No redstone?”

“Nope. Not even a little. You’re not getting out of this one, Mister Tango-top.” Skizz takes the bait, slipping into an authoritative tone.

Tango takes a small step backwards, ignoring the tiny stab of disappointment as Impulse lets go of his hand. “Uhhh… I’ve got redstone noodles to get back to—very important redstone noodles.”

He’s joking, obviously. He wouldn’t just leave his friends like that, and they both know it, but his play-fights with Skizz are something Impulse always seems to find funny. Still, he probably should’ve guessed there would be consequences—Skizz decides to run straight at him with outstretched hands, grinning like a madman, but all that comes out of Tango’s mouth is an embarrassingly squeaky noise as he tries to dodge. Poorly.

Skizz catches him with minimal effort, holding him up in the air like some kind of trophy. Tango makes it known that he does not approve of this by squirming spitefully and hissing in displeasure, but Skizz is a hell of a lot stronger than him, so he eventually gives up and reluctantly goes limp with a sigh.

“He really does remind me of a cat when you hold him like that.” Impulse muses, mirth sparkling in his eyes as he laughs at Tango’s misfortune.

Yeah, this is hardly the most glamorous position to be stuck in, but Tango’s plan still worked out, didn’t it? He feels a lot better now that he’s succeeded in cheering Impulse up, at least.

He glares exaggeratedly. “Jerkface.”

“He is a cat, pretty much. Just a grumpy one.”

Tango is strongly tempted to sink his teeth into Skizz’s arm. “Keep talking, and you might be on track to earn yourself a few extra scars.”

He’s kidding… mostly. He’s a little curious what ingesting angel blood would do to him, but he’d rather not risk the chance of instant smite-ification or something—demons and netherkin aren’t that dissimilar. Might be a thought for another day, though, since he’s sure Zed would love to experiment with that idea.

Skizz presents him to Impulse, and Tango doesn’t have to see his face to know he’s got a stupid grin on it. “Wanna hold him?”

Tango lets a growl playfully rumble in his throat, and Impulse’s lips twitch upwards. “No thanks, I think he might bite me.”

“Your loss.” Skizz starts, shifting to hold Tango a little more comfortably, tucked under one arm. “Anyways, what are we gonna do that isn’t productive?”

Is this what it feels like to be a stuffed animal? Tango is a grown man. And yes, maybe he doesn’t hate being held by Skizz entirely, and he knows Skizz would stop if he asked, but come on. He almost regrets having gotten himself into this situation in the first place.

“Don’t you have a pyramid to work on?” Impulse teases, hands on his hips.

“Nuh-uh, not while my buddy is sad.”

“Have any games around here?” Tango already knows there’s minigames underway in the city, but he’d also be fine with a card game or something.

Probably. They all tend to get competitive over that kind of stuff, and there have been… a few times it’s ended in total chaos. Okay, maybe that actually happens almost every time, but it’s still fun! Sometimes there’s murder and death threats involved, depending on who’s playing, but hey, what’s a little homicide between friends?

Impulse grins, his brown eyes sparkling. “If you want, I could show you guys what games I’ve been working on so far—nothing too spoiler-y, but it might be fun.”

“Might be? Dude, don’t sell yourself short.” Skizz is already walking towards the exit, clearly excited judging by the pep in his step.

Tango’s eye twitches in annoyance. “Skizz?”

“Yeah?”

“Put me down.”

Chapter Text

For once, Tango is actually in his factory. He’d noticed it was running low on some supplies, so he’s chilling while it restocks, relaxing to the semi-muffled sound of heavy machinery. Sat against one of the walls of chests that isn't automated, that way he isn't in the way of anything, he's resigned himself to not working on anything, at least for now.

It’s good to give his mind a break sometimes, right? So instead of revising minigame or build blueprints, he’s just doing nothing.

He’s also kind of bored. Not enough to commit to trying to find something to do just yet—his Hungry Hermits blueprints are still inside the game itself, anyway—or message anyone, so he stares at the clouds in the sky, tail flicking back and forth absentmindedly.

The bond is quiet, too. No more worryingly big spikes of emotion, which is reassuring. Tango considers the fact that he might be broadcasting his boredom to the other three, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Either someone (Skizz, probably) will come entertain him, or they won’t. He’ll be fine either way.

He’s decided, after some reflecting, that the soulbond is ultimately a good thing. Unless it suddenly gains crazy side effects from otherworldly tampering or something, he’s going to continue assuming that it’s probably fine. Impulse will figure out the logistics of how this happened eventually, and in the meantime, Tango figures there’s no reason to worry about it.

The adjustment period for the bond, if it could even be called that considering how short it was, is over at this point. It’s just a part of life now, and he quietly hopes that it stays a permanent thing. He doubts it would just disappear or anything, but… there’s always a chance. It’s not like he couldn’t accurately gauge how his best friends were feeling before, but he likes that he has a long-distance version now.

The magic unites them in a way Tango’s never really felt before, and he’s not above admitting he enjoys the closeness. He never felt excluded by the soulbond before, back when it was just an Impulse and Skizz thing, but it’s different to be a part of something that basically transcends friendship.

They’re kind of like soulmates now, if you think about it. Isn’t having your souls literally bound together as close as you can get to that sort of thing?

His back aches from sitting in the same spot for too long, and he sighs, getting up to stretch his limbs out. It’s nice and cool today, the perfect kind of weather for being outside, but even so, staying still isn’t his strong suit. He’d like to do something other than sit around, so he pulls open one of the factory chests to peek inside, frowning at the still-too-low stock of items.

Seems like he’s gonna need to stick around a little while longer, unfortunately.

Taking a break is so boring, though. If he’s gonna be stuck here, he might as well try to work on something productive. Maybe he has spare blueprints or notes laying around here somewhere?

“Tango!” A voice sing-songs from somewhere above him, and he jolts, almost slamming his hand in the chest.

“Zed?” He calls back, because he’d know that voice anywhere.

It’s kind of surprising to see him, though. Zed tends to live up to his reputation as a Hermit, and unlike Skizz or Impulse, is rarely around the server socializing. He tends to keep more to himself—not that there’s anything wrong with that! Tango respects his need for space.

Zedaph swoops down to land in front of him, smiling in a way that causes Tango’s traitorous heart to skip a beat.

“I thought I sensed boredom coming from your general vicinity.” He teases lightheartedly, brushing off his cardigan.

Tango grins at him, happy to abandon his attempt at productivity. “I’d say I’m sorry, but it brought you here.”

“Oh, Tango, you flatter me.” Zed puts a hand on his chest, matching his energy immediately. “What are you up to on this fine afternoon?”

“Factory was running low on stock, so I was just sitting around waiting for it for it to work its magic and make more.”

Zedaph hums, tilting his head. “How long do you think that’ll take?”

“Why? Do you need my full attention that badly?” Flirtation seeps into his voice, a familiar part of their dynamic, as he leans over to check the factory chests again. “It’ll probably need another couple-ish minutes? Give or take.”

Zed lets out a little gasp of delight, looking at something past Tango’s shoulder. “Impulse!”

Tango turns around, interest piqued, and sure enough, Impulse is gliding through the entrance, easily spotted due to his bright yellow jacket.

“I see you had the same idea, huh?” He says with an easy smile as he touches down.

“More or less. Tango’s boredom beacon was a little hard to ignore.”

Tango huffs in amusement, planting his hands on his hips. “Well, normally, Skizz or Scar are the ones coming over to bother me. At least you two are a fun change of pace.”

“Skizz is busy with Permit Office stuff, which counts Scar out, too. I was planning to take a break today anyway, and you kind of gave me the perfect excuse, so…” Impulse trails off, a little sheepish.

“So what you’re saying is Skizz won’t be at his base for a while?” Tango points out conspiratorially, an idea popping into his head.

Zedaph claps his hands together, clearly on the same train of thought. “What are you thinking? Death trap? Redstone-powered noise machine? Filling his base with sheep?”

“Hide sheep in the walls of his base so he has to hear baa-ing 24/7?” Impulse adds on.

“I was just gonna leave signs around his base to annoy him, but your ideas sound way more fun, I’m in. Where are we gonna get sheep from?” Tango starts pacing back and forth, mind whirring.

“My base is probably too far to bring any over in a reasonable timeframe. He lives in a giant mountain, right? Surely there’s sheep wandering somewhere in that area.” Zedaph’s practically bouncing with energy, clearly excited.

“Alright, skippy. Let me shut off the factory first before you take off without me.” Tango jokes, leaving them to quickly drop down into his redstone, navigating carefully to a lever and flicking it to turn everything off.

One by one, the sounds of machinery start stopping as each minecart returns to its original destination, the factory’s cells powering down. Tango readies a rocket and eyes the gaps in the redstone above him, shooting off and barely managing to avoid splatting into little Tango-bits.

“Race you there!” He shouts as he flies over Zedaph and Impulse, wind rushing in his ears as he sets course for the cherry blossom mountain.

Faintly, he thinks he hears someone behind him yell something along the lines of ‘cheater’, but he just fires another rocket, soaring up into the cloudy blue sky. As he gets closer to his destination, he spots a little white blob on the mountainside, and he angles into a dive, gaining speed and momentum as he zooms towards the unsuspecting creature.

He… lands. Not gracefully, no, and he sends up a spray of dirt and grass as he skids to a stop, but he miraculously doesn’t faceplant. The sheep blinks at him slowly as it chews on blades of grass, unperturbed by his crash-landing next to it.

Zedaph swoops in next to him, landing a lot more gracefully than Tango had, and the sheep bleats quietly at him. Maybe it recognizes that its in the presence of the server’s resident sheep whisperer, maybe it knows Zed is part sheep himself. Maybe its just annoyed they’re in its way. Who knows?

Tango only now remembers that he probably should’ve grabbed leads, or wheat, or anything that would help him move the animal from where it’s standing. He might have some in his ender chest, but he’s not particularly motivated to pull one out and try to locate the shulker box he’d put them in.

“Got any leads?” He asks Zedaph, who grins.

“Of course! I’m always prepared for on-the-go sheep transportation.”

He procures several, and ties one carefully around the sheep’s neck, giving it a pat on the side for its good behavior. The sheep just stares at them with an empty gaze, and Tango wonders if there’s anything going on inside its brain. Knowing sheep? Probably not.

“I’m sure this little bundle of love and code will enjoy annoying Skizz for the foreseeable future.” Zed tempts the sheep with a bit of wheat so that it’ll move faster, leading it in the complete opposite direction of Skizz’s base.

“Uh, Zed?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t even look up, too busy murmuring encouragement to the sheep.

Tango tries his best to swallow his laughter. “You might be going the wrong way.”

Zedaph freezes mid-step, and the sheep nudges him with its nose, leaving a wet imprint on his cardigan. With a loud and very exaggerated sigh, he turns around to start heading the other way, and Tango ends up snickering at him anyway as he follows them.

“Don’t you start, mister. You probably couldn’t find your own behind in a mirror!” Zed isn’t really angry, but he does a good job playing up his indignance.

“What?” Tango chokes out, the weird phrase only making him laugh even harder.

Zedaph huffs, but he’s never been very good at hiding his emotions, and Tango catches a glimpse of a brilliant smile before he turns his head away. His communicator beeps, and Tango wipes a tear from his eye as he checks it, willing himself to suppress the way that smile makes his heart flutter.

[ImpulseSV]

Got nametags and a sheep! :D

Attached to the message is a slightly blurry photo of himself with the sheep in question, one hand buried in its yellow wool and a grin directed towards the camera. They’re stood underneath a cherry blossom tree, and petals have settled in both Impulse’s hair and the sheep’s coat. And that’s not even mentioning how the warm light makes Impulse’s brown eyes shine, and wow, Tango really needs to find less attractive friends.

“I’m gonna leave you behind if you don’t catch up!” Zedaph calls, and Tango forces his gaze away, hurriedly closing the message.

Zed raises a curious eyebrow at him, and Tango hopes it wasn’t too obvious that he was looking longer than he should have. “It was just Impy, he’s gonna meet us there.”

Considering the cherry blossom trees they’re walking under right now, sunlight filtering through the flowering pink canopy, Tango would almost call the scenery… romantic. Except that this is just a friendly hangout, totally platonic—seriously, what is wrong with him today? He tries his best to shake those errant thoughts off and force himself back onto the topic of pranks and annoying Skizz.

Still, he can’t seem to stop thinking that these two are going to be the death of him, one of these days. He’s probably lucky that Skizz isn’t here today, because at least his heart has one less person to go nuts about.

It’s not long before he catches sight of the area in front of Skizz’s base, where Impulse stands with a yellow sheep, as Zedaph carefully begins leading his own companion down the mountain. Tango decides to glide down to where Impulse is instead of following Zed, and notices he’s brought an anvil and nametags along with him, unsurprisingly prepared as always.

“What’re you gonna name this little guy?”

Impulse smiles at him in greeting, one hand resting on the sheep’s head. “I was thinking maybe Sheep-pulse, but that might be a little too basic.”

Zed finally gets his sheep safely over to their location, catching the end of their conversation. “If you do that, I could call this one Sheepdaph! And dye him pink, of course. But we are missing a Tango sheep…”

He gives Tango an expectant look, and he just crosses his arms, tail flicking with slight annoyance. “You do know I was the one who found that sheep, right?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t bring him all the way here and down a perilous mountain, did you? Sheepdaph and I have a connection now.” Zed argues, throwing in a small pout as he practically dares Tango to separate him from his new friend.

“There’s another sheep where I found mine, just over the hill near the city. It’s not far if you wanted to go get it.” Impulse joins in, clearly trying to be helpful, and Tango can’t say no to both of them.

“Fine.” He grumbles, mildy exasperated, and Zed passes him a lead without him even having to ask.

“Good luck!” Zedaph calls after him as he takes off, flying towards the general direction of where Impulse had told him to look.

Sheep, which are typically white, are not very difficult to spot against the pink trees and green grass, and Tango sees the one Impulse had mentioned pretty much immediately. With a small sigh, he touches down next to the sheep, who ignores his presence. He loops the lead around its neck as it raises its head and stares at him with an expression he swears is judgmental, and then begins trudging back the direction he came from.

By the time he gets back, Sheepdaph’s wool has been officially dyed pink, and both sheep are sporting shiny new nametags around their necks. Tango has a feeling his is next in line for a new color, considering he’s pretty sure Zedaph’s holding red dye in his hands.

“Now we’ve got three sheep to annoy Skizz with!” Zed cheers, grinning, and Impulse brandishes another nametag.

“What do you wanna call him? Tangsheep?”

Zed is quick to suggest another name. “Sheepgo?”

“I don’t know why I’m going along with this,” Tango sighs dramatically, not a fan of those name options. “But if I have to, I'm going with Tango of the Sheep Variety."

To be honest, he doesn’t care that much about the names they give them, considering they’ll be in the walls of Skizz’s base for the foreseeable future and Tango might not even see any of the sheep again. But what he does care about is making Zedaph and Impulse happy, and if matching sheep names is what they want, then so be it.

Tango of the Sheep Variety accepts its new nametag from Impulse and, more reluctantly, the red dye from Zed, then seems to finally notice the presence of the other two sheep. Maybe it recognizes Sheep-pulse from before, because it quickly abandons Tango to go stand with the other sheep, baa-ing softly at them. It’s kind of cute how it nudges Sheepdaph gently, even though Tango knows he’s probably reading too much into it.

“Aw, they’re friends.” Impulse points out softly, watching the three animals huddle close together.

“I’d hate to separate them…” Zedaph hesitates, rethinking their plan. “But I guess there’s nothing stopping us from just putting them in one place together in Skizz’s walls. He’ll just have to decide what to do with them when he finds them!”

“I think you mean if he finds them—it could be months before he realizes they’re even there, knowing him.”

Chapter Text

Within his cavern of precious redstone spaghetti, Tango sits precariously close to an active redstone line, writing down plans and ideas for things he could add to the game. Balance changes, results from playtesting, and sketches of concepts line his notebook in almost illegible scrawl, and he flips back a few pages to cross out a note from a few months ago. It’s definitely not gonna work with his current vision for the game, although it might’ve been an interesting addition.

Needless to say, he’s lost in his own world, and definitely not in any state of mind to notice the presence of a visitor until it’s too late.

“Well, hello there!”

He yelps, losing his balance and tumbling right off his perch—incomprehensible flustered noises instinctively fall out of his mouth as he scrambles to glide to a safe landing spot, heart pounding from the sudden disruption. With his feet firmly back on the ground, he clears his throat and tries to maintain some semblance of dignity, picking up the notebook he’d dropped.

“Hi, Scar. What, uh, brings you here?” His voice is pitched a little too high to be believable as he shoots the man in question a dirty look.

“Oh, you know,” Scar replies, waving a hand in the air nonchalantly. “I just wanted to see what you were up to! Did I scare you?”

He’s clearly aiming for sincerity, but his eyes betray him, glittering with barely-concealed mischief. Tango gives him the side-eye, instantly suspicious of his intentions—Scar, while a great friend, is also a big fan of causing mayhem, intentional or not.

“…Nope, not at all. Totally don’t need a new pair of pants or anything.”

Scar chuckles, opening his mouth to say something—then pauses, green eyes flashing icy vex-blue. The air seems to get heavier, and Tango gets the distinct feeling that he’s being watched, soul laid bare to examine and dissect. It’s not a comforting feeling, and Tango suppresses a shudder. He doesn’t mind, per se, but he’d rather Scar give him at least a little warning next time.

“I guess I should be congratulating you on the new bond! Soul-linking isn’t an easy process, of course, especially considering your circumstances.” Scar smiles, all traces of magic abruptly gone like they’d never been there to begin with.

“It wasn’t exactly intentional. As far as we know, Zed and I just woke up suddenly a part of Impy and Skizz’s bond, and there’s no explanation yet.”

“Hm,” Scar wheels closer. “soulbonds are tricky business, and not exactly my expertise, but! My professional theory is that if they felt strongly enough about you two, their bond could have changed because of it. Emotions are a powerful force, Tango.”

His tone is that of someone giving sage advice, but Scar isn’t even a little subtle about the implications. Tango tries not to give him too much of a reaction, because even if he’s right—and Tango really doesn’t want to entertain that idea for too long—Scar would never let it go. If he hasn’t figured out what Tango’s been hiding already, that is, because Scar is scarily good at picking up on small details.

“What, uh—” Tango starts before he can stop himself, only to realize what a stupid question he was about to ask. But now Scar is looking at him expectantly, and he’s already dug his own grave at this point, so he forces himself to continue. “What does the bond look like to you?”

Scar hums, eyes back to striking blue as he looks at—or though, actually—Tango’s chest. This time, Tango’s at least a little more prepared for the deeply unsettling weight that comes with his stare.

“Well, your soul is a flame, right? Just burning merrily away, red and orange and yellow and blue all at once. Quite eye-catching, actually!”

He wheels forward until he’s only a few steps away, gaze still fixed on something Tango can’t see. “Your soulbond is kind of like… threads. Ribbons, maybe? They’re gold—very shiny—and loosely wrapped around the flame, but not in a bad way. The ends trail off towards what I assume to be the direction of your… definitely platonic friends.”

Tango rolls his eyes, not surprised by Scar’s clear emphasis on the status of his friendship, but he doesn’t bother denying the insinuation behind it, not wanting to interrupt the vex hybrid until he’s done looking. Unfortunately, Tango is way too curious about this, and he was the one that asked for this explanation in the first place.

“But,” Scar says, a little softer now. “here’s the interesting part. It’s not just that your souls are tied together, it’s also that there’s a little bit of their souls in your soul. It’s not harmful, they can be separated easily enough, but their sparks, their imprints, if you will, are causing your fire to burn brighter than ever.”

Tango’s not even sure how to begin unpacking any of that, and then Scar breaks the spell by looking away with a wistful sigh. “It’s so romantic. You sure are one lucky guy, Tango.”

Face flushing hot, Tango crosses his arms, a little embarrassed. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, sparky.”

Scar’s voice dips into teasing territory, barely concealed amusement passing over his face. “Not so unrequited, I see.”

“Thanks for… that. Also, I’m not telling Impy your theory about how this soulbond situation happened in the first place.” Tango manages to say almost normally, only slightly off-kilter as he quickly turns away, trying to busy himself by shuffling through the redstone supplies in a nearby shulker.

“Oh, don’t worry! I’m an excellent keeper of secrets. I’ll bring it up to Impulse myself—excluding the part where you practically burst into flames, of course. Has he asked anyone else for help yet, by the way?”

Tango pauses, trying to recall the conversation they’d had… what, a couple days or so ago? It simultaneously feels like yesterday and last week, all muddled in between nearly constant work in redstone-land.

“I think he’s only asked Grian? But I don’t know for sure.”

“Cub can help. You might think Cub is more a man of science, but no, no! Science and magic aren’t so different, and he’s an expert at both.” Scar proclaims with great certainty, leaning back in his wheelchair.

“Yeah, yeah, I know Cubby’s a genius.”

An annoyingly default jingle starts up from Tango’s comm and he scowls, silencing the alarm as fast as possible so he doesn't have to hear it. Scar gives him a questioning look, and he shrugs.

“I’m making a trip off-world today—wanted to make sure I left before it gets too late or I get too distracted.”

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint. You should pick up something nice for your fellow lovebirds!” Scar winks, taking off before Tango can even formulate a response.

He’s not in love. Being flustered by your very attractive friends is totally normal, right? Probably. Maybe.

…Who’s he kidding? Considering the whole ‘sharing emotions’ thing, it’ll be a miracle if they don’t find out. Maybe, if he’s lucky, all three of them won’t be able tell the difference between the platonic and romantic feelings, but that’s a hell of a long shot. Clearly, subtlety isn’t his strong suit, considering Scar picked up on it easily, but he figures they would’ve said something by now if they knew.

It’s hard not to be in denial. The longer he avoids thinking about it, the longer he gets to pretend it isn’t real. That every interaction with them is just friendly banter with nothing behind it, that he doesn’t wake up every day hopelessly in love with his best friends. If he excuses his heartbeat racing every time he’s with them as just adrenaline, it’s a lot easier to pretend everything is still normal.

Denial is a comfortable place to be, and Tango has more important things to do than sit here and feel sorry for himself. Sighing, he dumps the rest of his redstone back in its shulker box, figuring he’s probably done for the day, anyway, and leaves the server.

World travel always feels weird. There’s no way to describe the way it feels to have your code pulled apart and then reassembled again, but at least it’s a quick process. As soon as he loads into the hub world, he takes a second, wanting to make sure his legs aren’t in danger of collapsing underneath him.

And then he notices something unusual. The bond is… muffled. He focuses on it, realizing very quickly that unless he’s really concentrating, he can barely sense their emotions. They feel almost out of reach to him now, and his chest constricts at the feeling, even though it’s stupid. It isn’t a big deal, and not as bad as it was when the bond was fully cut off, but he feels weirdly off-balance now, like everything was shifted a few inches to the left when he wasn’t paying attention.

He takes a deep breath, then another, and forces himself to stop thinking about it. He doesn’t need much, so he can power through one short shopping trip, right? Right. He’ll be fine.

Trying to shake off the lingering unease, Tango sets off into the crowd, choosing to ignore the way the constant stimuli is even louder and more overwhelming than usual. He double-checks the shopping list on his comm to remind himself where to go, only for someone to shove roughly past him. Glaring in their direction as they vanish into the masses of people, Tango decides to just hurry along to the first store.

Some days he’s a little slower, pausing to look at anything that catches his eye, but he’s really not in the mood, so he speeds through getting the things he needs and nothing else. Turns out, the ever-growing urge to flee with extra flee is a pretty good motivator when it counts.

It’s not even a long trip, and he’s off-world for maybe twenty minutes at most, but he’s drained by the time he picks up the last thing on his list. He knows that even despite trying not to think it, the bond being messed up only made things worse—he’s not a big fan of how dull and almost faint it feels. He didn’t think it would bother him like this, but he’s spent too much time with the soulbond now, and nobody had warned him it would change if they weren’t all on the same server.

For a second, he’s almost annoyed, but it dies out just as fast as it starts. He doesn’t have the energy in him to blame Impulse or Skizz, not when they already have enough going on.

It’s not their fault Tango is a complete beginner at this, lacking the years and years of experience they’ve had with a magical soulbond. In hindsight, it makes sense they’d forget to mention it—they’ve spent a lot of time apart on different servers, so they’re probably used to the bond quieting from the distance.

Tango can’t rejoin Hermitcraft fast enough, and he sags in relief the second he’s back home. The soulbond rushes back to life, emotions vibrant and bright in his chest again, and he mechanically goes through the motions of leaving Hungry Hermits to get back to his factory. He barely processes anything beyond a bone-deep exhaustion, but he still manages to put everything he’d bought away once he gets there, even if it’s not exactly organized.

It wasn’t just about the bond, and he knows that. He didn’t sleep too well the night before and he never likes crowds very much, so it was pretty much a worst-case scenario of a bunch of factors coming together to make his day worse. He hopes the next time he has to leave the server won’t be as bad, but maybe he could convince someone else to go for him next time? That might be nice.

He hesitates, staring blankly at the chests in front of him, and tries to remember what else he was planning to do today. He could go back to work on Hungry Hermits, but would that really be a good idea when he’s feeling like this? The last thing he needs is to screw up his redstone and have to redo it all later.

“Top?” Skizz’s voice causes him to startle a little, but he’s too tired to have the same reaction he’d had for Scar earlier.

It really shouldn’t be that surprising, anyway. If there’s a single person most known for keeping an eye on others, it has to be Skizz. He takes his friends’ well-being very seriously, and made a habit of checking in regularly with Tango before the bond, and even before he officially joined Hermitcraft. Tango’d often heard things along the lines of ‘don’t overwork yourself’ and ‘take a break’ and ‘if you don’t go to bed, I’ll drag you there myself’ from him.

Tango scrubs a hand over his face, trying to force his brain to function properly. “Yeah?”

Hands land on his shoulders, and he turns to face Skizz. His brows are furrowed, expression soft with concern as he scans Tango’s features.

“Hey, buddy. What’s going on?” Skizz’s voice is calm and quiet, though tinted with worry.

Tango shrugs, finding himself subconsciously leaning into the angel’s touch. “Made a trip off-server. The bond was weird, and let’s just say it was not happy fun times. Now? I’m just tired.”

“Crap, did we forget to tell you two about that? Yeah, it gets kind of quiet when you’re not on the same server. It shouldn’t be causing any other side effects, though?” Skizz sounds uncertain, and Tango yawns.

“It’s probably just overstimulation. You know I’m not a big fan of crowds even on good days, and it kind of messed me up a little, but I’ll be fine after a break.” He noticeably sounds as tired as he feels, unfortunately, and the fog settling over his brain isn’t dissipating.

“Gotcha. Wanna take a break together?” Skizz’s thumbs sweep over Tango’s shoulder blades, and he melts into it immediately.

Normally, he wouldn’t be so obvious about wanting the affection, but Skizz is warm and safe. He’s way too out of it to care about much else, and a pleased purr starts in his throat as he leans fully against Skizz, who pulls him further into his arms, wings sheltering him protectively. He chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through his chest, and Tango’s starting to have problems keeping his eyes open, his thoughts becoming more and more hazy by the second.

“It’s okay, Top. You can rest now.” He whispers, quiet and laced with fondness.

Tango dimly registers being picked up, but his mind slips too far into sleep to notice anything else after that.

Chapter Text

Gradually, Tango begins stirring from the dredges of sleep, rolling over as wisps of rosy-tinted dreams linger in the fog of his mind. He squints blearily as he forces himself to sit up, reaching for the comm on his bedside table to check the time. Then, after a few ticks, his sleep-addled brain finally processes what, exactly, he’d been dreaming about, and his face warms in embarrassment.

He can’t remember all the details, half of it already forgotten and the rest a confusing mess, but he’s very certain it involved going on some sort of date with three specific people that he definitely hasn’t been pining over forever.

They were also being served by a dolphin waitress, the restaurant wasn’t actually a restaurant, and he’s pretty sure Impulse was purple for some reason, but none of that seems important right now. Burying his face in his hands, Tango makes a pathetic sound of exasperation, more than a little disappointed in himself for being so… infatuated.

Seriously, what is he, a lovesick teenager? This has to be some kind of new low for him.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he tries to push any thoughts of the dream out his head as he detangles himself from his sheets and gets out of bed. Ignoring his problems has been working out pretty well for him so far, so why stop now? Acknowledging his feelings is the last thing he needs, since the more he dwells on them, the harder they’ll be to hide.

A change of clothes, one cup of coffee, and a porkchop later, he feels a lot more ready to tackle the day. The harsh sunlight glares down at him as he leaves his starter base, and he blinks rapidly as he adjusts to the change in light. His factory isn’t set up enough to suit his caffeine addiction, and also doesn’t currently have a roof, so he’s been staying elsewhere at night—it wouldn’t exactly be happy fun times if he got rained on while trying to sleep.

He launches up in the air to fly towards the factory, not particularly motivated to walk, and his communicator pings while he’s in the air. Unwilling to risk messaging and flying at the same time, he waits until his feet are firmly on the ground before he checks to see who’s trying to get his attention.

[Zedaph]

Could use some help testing a new minigame, are you free? :D

Well… Tango was planning to work on redstone today (shocking, right?) but he’s not above prioritizing Zedaph instead.

[TangoTek]

On my way!

A brief stint of nether travel and a short flight has him stepping out into the Zedaph’s ravine, a cool jungle breeze greeting him. He looks around curiously, noting the beginnings of a new minigame in one of the walls, but there’s no sign of Zed himself, only lots of contraptions and bridges.

Strolling over to the edge of the level he’s on, he peers downwards. “Hello? Zed?”

“Tango!”

And for the second time in two days, Tango gets the life scared out of him and shrieks, tripping right off the edge and barely managing to avoid faceplanting into solid stone. How the hell did Zed manage to get behind him without him noticing?!

Zed drops down to meet him, giggling mercilessly at his misfortune.

And despite the fact that Tango’s heart is practically speeding out of his chest, and not in a good way, he loves seeing Zed’s smile. Always. Even when it’s at his expense, and even when he’s half-tempted to find the nearest cliff to shove Zedaph off of in retribution.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, jerkface.” He grumbles, tail flicking in annoyance as he shoots Zedaph a glare.

It takes a minute for Zed’s laughter to die down, and when it does, he takes a deep breath, the amusement on his face fading as his eyes flash with something like uncertainty.

“By the way,” He starts, an unreadable expression flickering over his features as he rolls up the sleeves of his cardigan. “I lied about the minigame. It’s certainly not done yet, not even enough for testing.”

That must’ve been the half-finished thing he’d noticed when he got here. But Zed has never been much of a liar, and Tango doubts that he’s suddenly starting now—the unusual behavior sets him weirdly on edge. But it’s Zedaph, right? It can’t be anything too bad.

Tango tilts his head in confusion, straightening up a little. “Well, there’s gotta be some reason you asked me to come out here, other than scaring me to death. What’s up?”

“An experiment, sort of. If you’ll consent to it, of course! I’d have you sign a waiver but, well, there isn’t one.” He jokes casually, brushing an errant lock of blonde hair behind his ear, but his eyes glint with nervousness.

“You’re missing the lab coat there, skippy. Wasn’t that whole thing a couple seasons ago? Is scientist Zed making a comeback?”

A part of Tango pangs with worry at the memory. Zed was pretty isolated for most of season eight, and while getting experimented on was kind of fun, he also knows Zed wasn’t taking the best care of himself. Especially not towards the end, not that any of them were, but nobody was really around to check on him, and… actually, he really doesn’t want to think about that right now. Best to leave the past where it belongs.

“It’s not quite that kind of experiment.” Zedaph takes a step closer, then another, until they’re practically nose to nose.

“Zed?” Tango manages to choke out, pulse once again racing a mile a minute as his face heats up. “Wh—What are you doing?”

Zedaph just smiles fondly, cupping Tango’s jaw in his hands as his violet eyes sweep over his features, searching.

“My hypothesis was right.” He murmurs softly, then hesitates. “Can I kiss you?”

It takes a tick for Tango’s brain to register that sentence, and he’s half-convinced he’s dreaming again. But Zedaph’s palms on his face are warm and real, and he’s never been very good at saying no to that face, anyway.

“Yeah! I mean, yes. Sure. If you want to.” The words tumble awkwardly out of his mouth before he can really think about them, still caught completely off-guard, and seriously, he didn’t think it was possible for his face to burn any hotter than it already was.

Zedaph laughs quietly at him, thumb brushing over Tango’s cheek, before leaning in and closing the gap to press their lips together. He kisses so gently, Tango thinks, as his eyes slip closed—like Tango is something priceless, something to be treasured. And even when they do part, Tango’s heart practically exploding out of his chest, Zedaph lingers, looking at him with so much love as their breaths intermingle.

He pulls away fully after a few more seconds, a faint pink blush tinting his cheeks as he smiles, and Tango finally remembers that he’d meant to ask something before he’d gotten… distracted.

“Hey, what did you mean by your hypothesis being right?”

Zed hums contemplatively, expression turning a touch mischievous. “The bond. I noticed a couple stray not-so-platonic feelings, and so I had a theory that my own affections were reciprocated. As it turns out, I was spot on!”

“Huh,” Tango mutters, thinking it over. “I did wonder if that was gonna get me caught eventually.”

“Caught red-handed! Or, red-faced, more like.” Zedaph smirks, pleased with himself, and gets a half-hearted glare from Tango in return.

If Zed’s figured it out, who’s to say Impulse and Skizz won’t too? If they haven’t already. The realization sets in that every emotion he and Zed had just been feeling definitely went through the bond, and Tango suddenly really wants to pull an Etho and exile himself. Forever, preferably. How did he even end up in this kind of situation?

“Do you, uh… think Impy and Skizz noticed anything?”

Zedaph tilts his head, gaze questioning and knowing all at once. “About your feelings for them, or about us?”

“How did you—? Actually, wait, I probably know the answer to that. Let me guess, the bond gave it away?”

“Nope. I had that theory before we ever got linked together, and you’ve just confirmed it for me.” Zed looks all too happy about having gotten it right yet again, but he doesn’t say it out loud, continuing instead. “Don’t worry, I like them too.”

Now that’s news to Tango. Well, Zedaph kissing him was also a pretty big surprise, but it’s one thing to have feelings for one person, and a whole other to feel that way about three people. Tango would be the leading expert at this point, considering he’s been trying to hide the fact that he’s hopelessly in love with his best friends for years now. Unsuccessfully, considering apparently he’s not nearly as subtle as he thought he was.

Instead of trying to suppress his feelings, he’d chosen the strategy of ignoring them entirely for as long as he possibly could. It… didn’t really work out, clearly, since you don’t just stop being in love if you pretend otherwise.

“Are you gonna say anything to them?” Tango asks curiously, not sure if he really wants to hear the answer as he fidgets with his claws.

Zed pulls out his communicator, then hesitates, staring at the screen for a long moment. “I mean, if they’re not busy, there’s no time like the present. As long as it’s okay with you?”

To be honest? Tango isn’t sure. On one hand, there’s a part of him that really doesn’t want to screw this up, because feelings or not, he cares a lot about the friendship they already have with Impulse and Skizz. But, on the other, Tango’s not usually the kind of person who backs down from a challenge, and they’d probably have to explain the whole smooch-ificating thing regardless…

“You know what? Why not.” He grins, deciding he’s willing to throw caution to the wind.

Zed just shakes his head, affection etched in his expression. “You sure do know how to make things interesting.”

“Says you.”

Zed chuckles at that but doesn’t respond, eyes fixed on his communicator as he starts typing something. Tango’s comm dings as he clicks send, but he doesn’t bother checking it, instead just moving over to peer at Zed’s screen and see what he’s saying.

[Zedaph]

You two wouldn’t happen to be busy right now would you? Tango and I require your presence

[Skizzleman]

Never too busy for you, Zeddlebop!

[Skizzleman]

where at?

[ImpulseSV]

not busy! I was just about to take a break

[Zedaph]

Meet us at my ravine?

Zed’s hands tighten on the device, and Tango tears his eyes away from the messages to look at him. “You good?”

“Ah—yeah. As it turns out, love confessions tend to make me jittery.” He sighs, sticking his comm in one of the pockets of his cardigan.

“We can’t have you all jitter-ificated, c’mere.” Tango opens his arms, inviting a hug, and Zedaph giggles, easily accepting the embrace.

He carefully tucks his head into Tango’s neck, mindful to avoid taking out an eye with his horns, and Tango’s heart melts a little. It’s warm out today, perfect weather, actually, and he takes a deep, relaxing breath as he enjoys their little bubble of domesticity and the warmth of the man in his arms. He never thought he would ever get this far. And if things really do take a turn for the worse after this… at least he’ll have Zed, no matter what.

When the whistle of rockets echo in the distance, though, Zed detaches himself with a rueful smile.

“You ready?”

Tango stifles a pang of anxiety, tipping his head to look skywards. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

Skizz appears over the tree line first, majestic white wings briefly blotting out the sun as he begins his descent. He makes an almost-perfect landing in front of them, only stumbling at the last second. Impulse is a few seconds behind him—he sticks the landing where Skizz didn’t, and the angel shoots him a reproachful look.

“What’s up?” Impulse approaches with a smile, posture relaxed and open.

Tango glances at Zed, trying to gauge how he’s feeling, and his expression is deceivingly pleasant, though an undercurrent of nervous anticipation floats through the bond. For a second, Tango entertains the idea of lying—saying they’d only wanted to hang out, or making some other innocent excuse. But chickening out isn’t going to help anyone in the long run, so he forces himself to be at least a little brave.

“We wanted to talk to you about something.”

Skizz’s eyebrows raise, something unidentifiable lingering in his eyes. “This wouldn’t have something to do with the love and mushy feelings you guys were emitting like a beacon, would it?”

Tango can feel blood rushing to his face for the gazillionth time today, and he stuffs his hands in his pockets in an attempt to avoid fidgeting. “…Maybe?”

Impulse goes very still, expression turning blank and closed-off in an instant, but an emotion flashes from his side of the bond, almost too fast to recognize—jealousy.

“I’m sure you can draw your own conclusions, if you haven’t already, but that’s not the only reason you’re here.” Zedaph has that look again like he’s figured everything out as he smiles, fluffy sheep ears flicking casually.

Despite how much he’s trying to hide it, it’s obvious that every second that goes by, Impulse wants to be here even less, and Skizz brushes a wing against his arm in what’s presumably a gesture of comfort. He’s a lot harder to read than Impulse is, but he’s been like that as long as Tango’s known him. If Skizz doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s feeling, then even the soulbond isn’t going to be much help, unfortunately.

Tango braces himself for the worst, interlacing his fingers with Zed’s to give himself the strength to keep going, even as he starts to feel more and more uncertain. “We have feelings for both of you, too. No pressure, of course, if you don’t feel the same, that’s totally fine.”

That’s a lie. It’ll hurt like hell if this turns out to be unrequited, but Impulse and Skizz aren’t the type to hold it against them, and he hopes they’d be able to rebuild with time. Still, he’s proud of himself for not only admitting it out loud for the first time, but also for his voice staying even and steady. Sure, it probably doesn’t count for much when he’s starting to really want to flee with extra flee, but it’s something.

“What?” Impulse blurts out, eyes wide as his composure breaks. “Are you sure?”

He clearly regrets the words as soon as he says them, and Tango tries very, very valiantly to choke down his laughter.

"I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't." 

Impulse buries his face in his hands, a red flush spreading to his neck and ears. “Can I get a do-over?”

This time, Tango does laugh at him, fondness and amusement mixing into one. Zed is stifling giggles of his own behind his hand, and even Skizz has dropped his mask to chuckle and pat Impulse consolingly on the shoulder. Tango is quietly relieved that neither of them are upset, and lets himself dare to hope that maybe, it might even be a good sign.

“Man, if we’d grown a pair of eyeballs at some point in the past however many years, maybe this could’ve happened without a magical bond.” Skizz shakes his head in bewilderment, still smiling.

Zedaph gives him a curious look, and he shrugs. “I’m surprised you guys never noticed I liked you. I’m not what most people would call subtle. Gemstone’s been making fun of me over it for months!”

“You’re like this with everyone, what do you mean?” Tango protests indignantly, mind flashing back to the countless times he’d seen Skizz acting less than platonically with various other people.

“The flirting I could see, but I don’t hit on everyone that much. I mean, c’mon, there’s definitely favoritism. I may not be an avian, but I don’t let just anyone have wing-preening privileges.”

Just as Tango’s about to open his mouth and reply to that, Zedaph cuts in instead.

“Impulse?” He says in an almost musical tone of voice, eyes glittering.

That gets Tango to look at their demon friend again, and Impulse quickly averts his gaze, staring at the ground. His emotions are… it’s a kind of a chaotic mess of anxiety and fluster-ification and general wanting-to-melt-into-a-puddle feelings. That’s already an answer in its own way, but Tango can’t resist the urge to tease just a little.

“You okay over there, Impy?”

Impulse pauses, the gears in his head clearly turning, before he seems to make up his mind about something. “I just… wasn’t expecting this. All these years, and I didn’t—I guess I didn’t want to get my hopes up that you guys might feel the same way.”

Tango softens at that, although Impulse isn’t alone in this being… well, unexpected, to say the least. Tango’d gotten up this morning ready for a day of immersing himself in redstone and continuing to pretend his feelings didn't exist, and look how things turned out instead. A part of him still barely believes this is all real and actually happening—even in his dreams, he never could’ve imagined anything like this.

“I suppose that makes us four idiots, then.” Zed’s still amused, though there’s something quieter, softer lurking underneath it.

“Four idiots in love.” Skizz proclaims with the cheesiest grin on his face, and Tango rolls his eyes.

“Shut up.”

“Oh, yeah?” Skizz taunts, a challenge in his voice. “Make me.”

Tango narrows his eyes, tail flicking back and forth as Zedaph nudges him with an elbow extremely un-subtly. With a loud and dramatic sigh, Tango gives in, playing up his annoyance as he stomps his way over to Skizz.

He looks up to stare into those bright blue eyes, arms crossed. “If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just asked for one.”

Skizz’s hands land on his hips, pulling him closer, and all his protests and faux indignance die in an instant. Judging by the smug slant to Skizz’s smile, he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on Tango, and is using it to his full advantage, the jerk.

“I’m asking now.” His voice is low, love reverberating through the bond.

Tango gets on his tippy-toes to hook an arm around Skizz’s neck, pulling him down a little—he goes willingly with a pulse of amusement, and Tango mentally curses the existence of tall people. Their lips finally meet, Skizz’s facial hair lightly brushing against his skin, and he forgets, why, exactly, he’d been annoyed. He almost jumps when feathers brush against his back, before remembering he’s kissing a guy with wings, and yeah, actually, that makes sense.

When he pulls back, though, his eyes catch on Skizz’s halo, which is glowing way brighter than it normally does. He taps it, fortunately able to reach since Skizz still hasn’t straightened, and it brightens even further at his touch, warm under his fingers.

“I didn’t know this thing works like a mood ring.” He teases, delighted by this revelation.

He gets treated to the incredible sight of Skizz blushing, something that almost never happens. Skizz, much like Zedaph, isn’t exactly known for having shame. His grin only widens at the sight, and Skizz glowers at him half-heartedly, crossing his arms.

“So what? Your hair sparks like crazy when you’re flustered.”

“I did wonder if you were going to light Skizz’s wings on fire there for a minute.” Zedaph laughs from behind them as Tango steps back from Skizz, strolling into his field of view with Impulse trailing after him.

Skizz scoffs, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. “It’s a good thing angels are fireproof, huh?”

Impulse lingers on the fringe of their little group with a spark of uncertainty, and Tango reaches out to grab his hand, easily entwining their fingers and giving his hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. His expression softens, and he squeezes back, taking his place at Tango’s side.

“Our little firecracker.” He murmurs fondly, tail looping protectively around Tango’s wrist.

Tango ducks his head as his face warms again, because apparently he’s the most easily flustered guy on the planet, and Skizz takes the opportunity to chime back in. “I didn’t know you were such a romantic, Dippledop!”

Impulse shrugs, eyes sparkling as the sunlight hits them. “Only for the right people.”

“Oh, right, that reminds me—I have something else to tell you guys. Cub and I finally figured out what caused this whole soulbond situation in the first place.” Impulse announces after a short pause, accidentally drawing all eyes to him.

He shrinks a little under their gazes, clearly somewhat embarrassed as he glances away. “So… he was able to do some kind of spell to identify the source of the bond changing, and, uh, it’s kind of mine and Skizz’s fault.”

Tango is starting to get the feeling that Scar may have been on to something. It checks out, to be fair, because Scar and Cub are usually on the same wavelength about these kinds of things, and both obviously good with magic. Which is great and all, but those two also like to cause mischief, and now they might have even more material to use against Tango the next time they’re in the mood for it.

“Elaborate?” Skizz asks, confused, and Impulse chuckles awkwardly.

“Well, it turns out that because we’re both… y'know, kind of madly in love with Zed and Tango, it influenced the bond so much that it decided to make them part of it? Or something. I’m still not 100% sure how that works, to be honest, but yeah.”

Impulse is definitely blushing, which is adorable, by the way, and Skizz just looks sheepish. “Oops?”

“So, you loved us so much that your souls literally couldn’t bear to be apart from ours?” Zedaph’s smile is blinding, but his voice is a little too teasing to come off as totally genuine, and Skizz shoves him lightly with one of his wings.

“Hey, it’s not like it can get any more romantic than that, right? And it got us together in the end, so you’re welcome.”