Oneshots! (Mostly Hermitcraft)

Content Warning: Last Man Standing [Grian]

Febuwhump Day 23: Presumed Dead ft. CW!Grian

Summary:
Grian, Impulse, Tango, and Skizz have just gotten into the world of content creation with the newest fad: horror vlogging. Unfortunately, this means they need to descend into the Old World, a place full of monsters and dangers, to film the videos they need to go viral.

TWs: injury, death

"Alright, whose turn is it with the camera?" Grian asked, waving the device at each of his friends. Impulse and Skizz looked at each other, then pointed simultaneously at Tango.

"What?!" Tango cried. "Guys, come on! I rarely make it back!"

"At least start us off, homeh buddeh," Skizz said, patting him on the back before running to the kiosk to buy flashlights.

They'd lost two of them on the previous day when a grabber snake threw Skizz into a pit. Tango had died shortly after to a knife ghost as Impulse filmed from a distance and Grian went for a ride in a slime critter. Luckily, it dropped him off close to where it picked him up and the two of them managed to make it back to the diving bell. Unfortunately, Impulse got run over by a blender head while Grian filmed trying to get more content, leaving the Brit to ascend by himself.

Grian did not like being the last one left. However, getting back with the camera was more important than rescuing his friends immediately, so he sucked it up and pressed the button to return to the surface. Their reunions were always joyful when he went down again after depositing the film to be exported, but Grian often wished that he'd have more than one friend returning with him in the bell. Just as often, he wished at least one of his friends would survive so he didn't have to push the button by himself.

The monsters were always more active after sunset, anyway. If he could have a second pair of hands, it would make his rescue operation go a lot smoother.

Tango grumbled as he took the camera and walked to the greenscreen, gesturing for Impulse and Grian to follow him. He flicked through the projections, then lifted the camera and lined it up as Grian stood casually in front of the screen. Impulse leaned his elbow on Grian's shoulder and earned himself a glare. He may be the shortest one by one or two inches – Tango was just barely taller than him – but that did not make him a good armrest.

Tango hit 'record' and asked, "Any predictions for today, guys?"

"Sacrificial Skizz," Impulse said immediately, nearly falling over when Grian finally managed to push him off. He chuckled as Grian brushed himself off, giving him another annoyed glare.

"I'll be the last one alive," Grian said flatly. "Again."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Tango responded, and cut the recording, taking the camera strap and putting it over his head and one arm so it could hang at his side, freeing his hands to handle other equipment.

Grian scoffed. "What? It's true."

"I hate to say it, Top," Skizz said, tossing a flashlight to Tango, "but G's probably right."

"I hate you both," Tango grumbled again, leading the way to the diving bell. Grian flicked his flashlight on and off as he followed, flipping the lever as Impulse and Skizz tried to board behind him. Giggling maniacally as Tango cackled next to the button, he reopened the door, allowing both Americans to scramble into the machine before he closed the door again.

"Nobody die, okay?" Skizz joked, pressing the button.

"Says you," Grian mumbled, crossing his arms.

"Nobody die in the first five minutes," Skizz amended, rubbing the back of his head embarrassedly.