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Don't worry guys, he's just taking a little nap :)

This au has taken root in my brain (haha), Phil pls do more Jsmp to give me something to work with and my life is yours

Also wing ref under the cut! Warning for body horror on the sculk wing cause I had some Fun ideas about how to get the more leathery look ::)

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i keep thinking about like. how the brutality levels vary between seasons and how secret life is the natural culmination of everything these people have been through and the watchers pushing everything to extremes. i’m going to try to articulate how crazy this makes me

3rd Life: god. 3rd life was a clear cut war. we haven’t seen a season since where nearly everyone has such an intense devotion to their chosen faction. the fact that there’s no precedent that they’re coming back next season, the fact that as far as they know, dying means staying dead, makes just how much they’re willing to go down with the ship that much more heartbreaking. grian ended the season exactly how it was played by damn near everyone else— i love you, i would do anything for you, i would rather die than keep going without you. the season of widows.

Last Life: and then they come back. and then ending things isn’t an option. and all of a sudden it’s not a war, it’s a death match, and damn is the competition is vicious. deaths are more often than not a vague, impersonal thing— not get away from my king, my husband, my charge— just the flash of a knife and a quick sorry, just playing the game! if 3rd life told you to hold the ones you love close, defend them to your last breath, last life urges you to burn that love out of your chest entirely.

Double Life: but everything slows down eventually. no more dying for the one you love— just learning to live with them. double life is about knowing that when you die, you will go together, hand and hand into the dark. a soap opera, the players joke. a small kindness, the universe replies. again, pearl wins the same way everyone else lost— no, not yet, please, just give us a little longer together, i’m not ready, i’m so sorry—

Limited Life: but the clock, unyielding, ticks ever onward. and god, everyone is starting to feel it. that sick, nauseating feeling of dread creeping up on them: what if it never ends? what if this is it, this is all that’s left for us— tearing each other apart over and over and over again, and for what? for a show? to feed those hungry things lurking in the dark? we’ll give them a show. bombs rain from the sky, the world shaking under the weight of it. there isn’t a thing left by the end that’s not rubble. we’re all doomed! the players cry, laughing with nothing but nihilistic, unrestrained joy. none of it matters! we come back again, and again, and again, have a little fun with it! light the fuse, collateral be damned. when death means so little, what’s the point in pretending they don’t take a little joy in it? we settle this like grian and scar before us, scott jokes, armor and weapons tossed to the side. are you insane? martyn thinks, remembering the hollow look that would wash over grian’s face when he thought no one was watching. it ruined him. it will not ruin me. this is a death match for a reason.

Secret Life: and here it is. the natural conclusion. this season is candy colored, the map dotted with cute pink houses and silly builds, the players all running around doing these ridiculous tasks. it’s so easy to forget how bloody this season was. unclosing wounds, bruises that don’t fade, the sting of fire or falling from a simple misstep. the hurt never goes away, but it gets easier to ignore— distract yourself with something silly to pass the time: spyglasses and frogs and the ugliest house you’ve ever seen and matching leather jackets and the doghouse and the relationSHIP and a weird tunnel full of doors and secret soulmates and god it’s almost, almost, enough to forget how much it all aches, how much the grief weighs on you, how many times someone you love has died, sometimes to your own blade. almost none of the grudges you hold are real by now, not really. not when you’re going to live and die with these people for as long as the hungry, many-eyed things delight in your suffering. you love each other, in the strangest way— sure you’ve all killed and betrayed each other in a thousand different ways, but at the end of the day, they’re all you have. clinging to each other in the face of the vast, unknowable horrors that drive you to slash each other to pieces. it’s still a game, after all. they’ve gotta figure out how to be good sports about it eventually.

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tango hunt!!

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hello hello! if your requests are still open could you please do any mumbo drawing? i love your art style so much!

Have a whole bunch! And thankyou so much :D <33

Im still a shapeshifter mumbo truther btw.

Hc that when he was younger he would change forms alot depending on where he was/who he was around. Nowadays he has a preferred form and tends to shapeshift for pranks/when hes finding it difficult to control like in S8 >:)

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idiots

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my piece for the amazing @hermitseasonzine !!

I loved having the opportunity to draw one of my favorite events of hc9 and collaborate with such talented artists <3

download it for free here !

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grian do u like stars,,

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I sketch

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(x)

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I think that Season 10 and especially the Doc v. Cleo trial really epitomizes what I mean when I say that Hermitcraft operates on Wonderland/Feywild logic, where everything is orderly but so nonsensical. There are no laws but you can sue people for whatever you want. The courtroom is explicitly a TV court and the judge makes desicions by flipping a coin, and punishments are decided by whatever is funniest. You MUST address the judge as "Your Highness" instead of "Your Honor." If you want a permit to sell something you have to complete a bunch of nonsense impossible tasks like you're making a deal with a fairy. The only law enforcement does not have the power to enforce any laws and mostly just stands around in slutty outfits. The governmental system is a bunch of people "yes and"ing each other and everyone will complain about the bureaucracy but also begrudgingly follow all of the rules, sometimes with malicious compliance. Your lawyer is a muppet.

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twitter liked this lil rough thing from yesterday, so I thought I'd post it here too :D

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clingy

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mwah

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Does it ever drive you crazy...?

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Lamb to the slaughter

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Coming home from the pub

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happy dunmeshi day