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Desire Path - Chapter 1 (Part 1)

[the other parts will be released soon. thank you for your patience]

Part 1 Summary: The hermits are finally on fresh land. Their first day is just like every first day they’ve had in a new server. Well... except for Grian. Something feels... off. 

Characters: Grian, Mumbo, Scar, Xisuma, and Cleo (she’s there for a little bit)

Warnings: Temporary character death, implied self-harm (? debatable)

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His soul is ripped violently from the body that holds it. His mind screams, latching onto life with a dangerous grip. All he sees is black. His soul fights the grasp of the Angel of Death before being released. His soul stares at the Angel, looming silently with its ink-black wings and piercing blue eyes.

The Angel allows him another life.

… and Grian wakes up.

Humid air fills his lungs. He hears voices he hasn’t heard in months. He stumbles to his feet, coughing as his broken ribs contort back into place. He looks around at smiling faces, as if they never experienced the impact from their past lives.

Mumbo walks up to Grian as the other hermits chat it up with each other, sharing vague plans.

“Your wings look better,” Mumbo points out, gently elbowing him.

“They feel better, too. Flying was awkward with all those stitches.”

“I’d suggest sunscreen. Those are phantom wings you sewed on.”

“I’ll be fine. The sun’s out and I’m not on fire.”

“Yet.”

“… Yet,” Grian laughs.

“Alright. Get out of my face. I have a vault to build,” Mumbo says playfully, gently pushing Grian away.

“A vault? For what, you weirdo?”

“It’s a secret!” Mumbo makes vague hand gestures as he backs away.

Grian just laughs quietly as he watches Mumbo leave. He turns to face the crowd again. He sees Doc adjusting his arm as Ren rambles on to him about something. He watches as Bdubs stretches, like he’s getting ready to run a marathon. Tango is reviewing a home-made redstone manual. Keralis flaps around happily before jumping up and perching right on Xb’s shoulders.

Everyone seems so happy.

That’s what matters now.

Grian is quickly lost in his own thoughts. Someone makes a speech, perhaps to welcome them to the new season. He catches glimpses as everyone disperses. Bdubs hardly hesitates to begin sprinting full-speed ahead for a tree. Xisuma opens something on his helmet’s monitor, most likely checking the stability of the server. Scar mumbles something as he rolls off, and a ghostly cat figure appears behind him.

Something hums in Grian’s ears.

A voice speaks to him, low and gritty.

His eyes widen, and he covers his ears. He holds his breath, feeling the tremor in his hands as he silently prays for it to go away.

Those months in the void must have really messed him up.

This is no hallucination, Watcher, the voice says to him.

“Ohhh gods, I can understand it now,” Grian whispers to himself. “I’ve done it! I’ve gone insane!”

Listen to me, Watcher.

“I really don’t want to, but you won’t stop talking.”

This world is far less stable than the Administrator believes it to be.

“Great,” Grian mumbles as he wanders off to collect wood.

A vessel is needed. Make for me a vessel, Watcher.

“Oh my gods, fine, okay. Just go away.”

Silence.

Oh, Grian thinks to himself, It stopped.

He stands still for a long, long time, waiting to hear it again. He doesn’t know why he wants to hear it again. He shakes his head, finally getting back on track.

The memory of the voice still lingers as he gathers materials. There’s a gentle buzz grating against his skull, and he feels the ground shift ever so slightly beneath his feet with every step he takes.

The earth is calling to him. He feels it. He sees it.

The dirt caves in if he stands still for too long. Branches lean too close to his face. Vines slither up his legs. Flowers turn to face him as if he were the sun itself.

He does not feel welcome.

He’s lost in his own focus, staying on the move, avoiding the forest, staying on stone. So lost, in fact, that he hardly notices as Scar rolls up to him, a pale visage of Jellie looming behind him.

“Hello, hello!” Scar says in a somewhat sing-song voice.

Grian jumps in surprise, flaring out his wings. He sighs gently once he notices who it is. “Hey, Scar. Uh…” his sentence trails off as he steps closer to him. Was he always wearing that um… robe..? “Not too sure what you are, but you look… gorgeous.”

Scar chuckles, resting a hand on his chest. “I am a beautiful elf!”

Grian smiles and rolls his eyes as he makes a crafting table. Scar rolls off somewhere else, talking to Jellie about something.

Grian makes himself a pickaxe and gets to work on gathering up stone for tools and a furnace. He mindlessly goes through what he goes through every season, humming quietly to himself and tapping his talons against the stone. While crafting his tools, he feels a burning on his back, and whips around to check if anyone just tried to light him on fire.

Nothing.

He huffs, laughing at himself for being so paranoid. He turns back around, only for the burning to return. His mind wanders to a previous conversation. He sighs deeply, rubbing his eyes. He’s going to have to wear a shawl. He didn’t have an issue with them, they were just… inconvenient.

He knew people like him wore them to feel more protected from the elements, and he’d be a liar if he said he’s never worn one before, but he never needed one here. He felt safe– safe enough to bare his wings fully to the world. His most prized possession.

Memories flicker in his mind of a sleep-deprived mania. He still hears their mocking laughter.

He sighs again, moving to have his back face away from the sun. He finishes carving his stone tools and wanders off. He spots a small group just by the water, and hurries over. He seems to have joined the conversation very late, because it’s already turned nonsensical.

“... It is a mattress store, yes, it is a mattress store. You’ve got the name perfectly correct,” Mumbo says to Scar, who leans over a crafting table, head in hands. Cleo laughs at the conversation, her snakes bobbing up and down as if they too were laughing.

“That is exactly what it is,” Mumbo continues, “And a mattress store is… well, it is what it sounds like.”

Grian smiles as he moves closer, hoping for context to what they’re saying. Though, it is a lot funnier without it.

“Okay! Feel like that’s really not a mattress store,” Scar says as he sits up straight again, a puzzled expression on his face. Cleo enters another giggle fit, hardly able to keep her eyes open with how much she’s laughing.

“Right, okay, sorry, I was joking–” Mumbo starts smiling, physically unable to keep a straight face as this conversation goes on. “I was joking a little bit.”

Scar seems to finally take notice of Grian, and he looks up at him. “Grian, what is a mastador?”

He couldn’t hear Scar properly for some reason. Despite this, he couldn’t help but crack a smile. “A– a what? A master door?”

Scar stares at him for a moment before laughing to himself, “Oh my gods.” He buries his face in his hands again. Jellie leans down to sniff him, somewhat worried.

“Did somebody ask for a master door?” Mumbo asks, voice almost buried by Cleo’s laughter. “I’ll– I can build you a master door!”

Scar rolls away for a moment, still hiding his face. Grian laughs quietly to himself. Cleo says something, but it’s drowned out by laughter.

“No, they said that I looked like a– a master somethin’ or other,” Scar says as he comes back to the group. “And I know I’m mispronouncing it, and they– they’re playing games with me–”

“A mastodon?” Xisuma asks as he places down a door.

“Clear– clearly–”

The conversation devolves into unintelligible laughter for a moment, but the laughter is quickly broken up by Mumbo.

“Mastodon– it was a mastodon. It was a mastodon! He did– yeah, he looks–”

Cleo finally manages to get some words out through her laughter, “Correct! You’re correct! That’s exactly what we said.”

Xisuma wanders off, seeming to know exactly where he’s going. Everyone in the group is quick to follow after him. Grian especially, considering how vines had almost completely rooted him to the ground in the short span of that conversation. He shakes off the vines as they break away from the grass, withering away instantly. He hears a gentle ringing in his ears as the vines snap. He hopes it’s nothing too bad.

Xisuma slows his pace as he reaches the massive pit that is the entrance to a cave. “Does that look scary down there?” He asks as he peers over the edge of it.

Grian, although reluctantly, lowers himself to the ground as Mumbo slides into the pit. Grian can feel the grass reaching to wrap around his hands and feet. He rips the grass from the dirt before it even has a chance.

It’s not long before Scar goes tumbling into the pit, much like he does every season. He hits the ground once, but slips and sadly falls to his death.

Everyone erupts into laughter, with Cleo saying happily, “There he goes!”

“How’s he died– He’s died twice!” Mumbo says between laughs. “He’s died twice already!” He makes his way up the steep hill, Cleo reaching down to help him up. “This is incredible!”

“We need to get you a bed, Scar,” Xisuma says as he trails after Mumbo.

Grian follows, happy to get away from such a deadly drop. He can hear Scar talking off in the distance as he makes his way to where they originally met up.

“We need to get you to a mattress store so we can get you a bed, dude,” Mumbo jokes as Scar is lifted out of the water by Jellie.

“No, dude–” Scar places down his wheelchair and Jellie sets him down on it. “What is a mastador?”

Mumbo can hardly get words out through his laughter. “It’s a– haha, a matador is, y’know, the guy that swings the red carpet around, y’know–”

Everything finally clicks in Grian’s brain about what that conversation was about. “A matador!” he practically shouts. “That’s what you were try– okay.

“I– all you said is it was a guy with something–” Scar stammers, wringing water out of his hair.

“He does look like a matador!” Grian says, pulling out an axe and starting to chop down a tree next to where Scar is sitting.

“But what is it?! I’m so freaking confused!” Scar says, face scrunched up in bewilderment.

Mumbo rubs his eyes with the balls of his wrists as he begins to explain again, “The guy– the guy with the– th–the red carpet, right?”

“The swirly red cape,” Cleo adds in.

Mumbo turns to her and nods, “Yep, and then– and then– and then the bull comes flying past, and then he kills the bull. It’s a bit– it’s a bit old school.”

Cleo nods in return. “Basically– basically, you’re gonna fight a lot of ravagers.”

Scar perks up as things finally seem to make sense to him. “Oh! Dude, I watched– oh, the guy with the red thing?” Mumbo and Cleo both nod along as he speaks. “And he’s like– and the bull runs and he goes, fwoop woo, and he goes woop woo– oohhhh.”

“Yep, you look like one of them,” Mumbo says. “This– this has been ten minutes.”

“Wow, that’s a deep cut,” Scar says quietly, putting a hand on his chest.

Mumbo laughs, “It is a bit of a deep cut, I must admit.”

After that, the group disperses, and Mumbo wanders back to the pit. Grian, being the way he is, follows after Mumbo almost immediately. He manages to catch up to him just as he begins mining coal.

Grian is quick to hop down into the pit, flapping his somewhat useless wings to cushion his landing. “Mumbo, no,” he says, landing awkwardly on his ankle, feeling pain shoot up through his leg. “You can’t get– you can’t get ahead of me like that with– with coal.”

Mumbo steps back slightly as Grian begins mining the coal as well. “What do you– what do you mean?! I’m gathering coal!” He turns to look up at Grian for a moment before quickly going back to mining. It wasn’t long before Grian jumped in right next to him, attempting to push him out of the way despite limited space. Mumbo pushes back against him with a confused smile. “How is this not allowed?”

Grian playfully shoves Mumbo out of the way, quickly hitting away at the coal. “I marked this! I marked this for me!” He squeezes his eyes shut as gravel falls next to him, sending dust flying everywhere.

“This is part of the game!” Mumbo laughs, pushing past Grian, searching the ground for any more coal in their miniature cave. Grian takes note that Scar has placed cobble, effectively making it just that bit harder to get out.

“Hey, look,” Mumbo says, leaning down to get eye-level with Grian. “You do realise that I’ve– I can kill things this season, bud, and we’re in a small hole together.”

Something sinks inside Grian’s chest at those words. Mumbo’s eyes seemed… different, in a way. Like they were glowing. Red.

Were his teeth always that sharp?

There’s a moment of silence, and Grian isn’t able to properly form a sentence. There’s a ringing in his ears, and he feels scared. He wants to get out but he can’t, he can’t get out, he doesn’t understand–

Scar clears his throat, covering his mouth with his hand, “That’s what she said–”

Mumbo stands in stunned silence before his face flushes a deep red. “Scar!” He shouts as he takes out his axe and hits Scar with it.

Scar, too proud of his joke to be upset, just smiles and laughs as he yet again falls to his death.

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WAIT YO THAT MEANS I CAN ALREADY POST PART ONE

if tumblr posts have a character limit, i might just reach it with Desire Path chapter 1. expect it to be split up into two or three parts because it is LONG.

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if tumblr posts have a character limit, i might just reach it with Desire Path chapter 1. expect it to be split up into two or three parts because it is LONG.

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this fic is very much Grian-centric but chapter one really makes you second guess that for a minute

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writing dialogue that is word-for-word accurate to the actual hermitcraft videos was the worst decision of my life. 

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btw Desire Path is gonna go on Ao3 i just wanna finish it before then. or at least get a handful of chapters done before i upload it

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Desire Path - Prologue

decided it’d be fun to share the Hermitcraft fic i’m working on so here’s the prologue.

Chapter Summary: A new season arrives, but the Boatem Crew is still stuck in the Void with nothing better to do. Life gets boring when you’ve been falling for months. That is, of course, until Grian has a nightmare unlike any he’s had before.

Characters: Grian, Mumbo, Scar, Pearl, and Impulse

Warnings: Panic attack, temporary character death (he comes back to life in the next chapter)

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He’s been falling for months now. He saw nothing but an endless void for months, burning into his eyes. Stars trace the inside of his eyelids, reminding him that he falls even when he sleeps, when he dreams of touching ground, feeling soft grass beneath his talons. 

He doesn’t even think he’s falling anymore. He feels stagnant. He feels nothing through the suit he wears to breathe in this vacuum. He wraps withered wings around his form in hope of comfort. Mumbo offers him a reassuring smile as they fall endlessly into nothing. 

Scar attempts humour as he always does, telling stories of seasons long since passed. Pearl talks about how much she’d enjoyed the season, despite the horrors of… that thing. 

(Even the thought of the moon makes him sick.)

Impulse speaks of his factory, how successful it was, and his deal with Evil Xisuma.

Months pass with growing boredom. They could only reminisce for so long. Grian falls asleep during most conversations, unable to keep heavy lids open for long.

He dreamt of something strange once, while trapped in that endless void.

He dreamt of something speaking to him in tongues he couldn’t yet understand. A shapeless being looming over him, whispering sweet nothings to him. He dreamt of an open wound, bleeding golden ichor onto the earth. Creatures from within spill words of warmth and protection, drawing him in as he reaches with a shaking hand. He can almost see what lies on the other side. He feels lucid as he moves closer. 

And he sees it. 

He sees something he cannot understand. 

He doesn’t understand. He can’t understand he could NEVER UNDERSTAND WHAT THE FU–

His eyes shoot open as he screams, claws scratching at his visor with a new, primal fear he’s never felt before. He repeats words so fast he can barely make them out. His vision blurs and he can hardly hear anything other than nails carving scars into the glass of his visor. He can’t breathe. He can’t remember how to breathe. He doesn’t know how to breathe he doesn’t understand he doesn’t understand he doesn’t–

Mumbo grabs his wrists, pulling them from his head. He stares dead into Grian’s eyes, expression stern but worried. 

“Breathe, Grian,” Mumbo says in a gentle voice. It’s like molten honey.

“Nonononononono you don’t get it, I can’t breathe, there’s no air, it took my air–”

“Nothing took your air. You need to breathe, Grian.” 

Scar pipes up, “Very true! These are certified Swaggon air ta–” he quickly cuts himself off when he finally sees the frantic look in Grian’s eyes. “Ahhh… never mind, bad time?”

Grian slows his breathing the best he can. His hot breath fogs up his visor. He squeezes his eyes shut so he can’t feel any more trapped than he already does.

Stars trace the inside of his eyelids. 

He is falling.

(Is he?)

He can breathe.

(He thinks he can.)

He opens his eyes. Stars frame the faces of Boatem in glittering halos. 

“Are you okay?” Mumbo asks quietly, tired eyes glinting with fear. 

Grian lets out a shaky breath, and nods. “Yeah. Just a– just a bad dream.”

Mumbo lets go of Grian’s wrists and floats away gently, maintaining eye contact for a moment longer. 

There’s another long silence as Grian comes to his senses. Scar glances at each member of Boatem, trying to get a feel for the room.

“So, wanna bet on how much longer you all think we’ll be falling before we hit ground?”

There’s a collective groan. Pearl buries her face in her hands. Impulse mumbles something to himself about this being the twenty-eighth time Scar’s said this. Mumbo laughs quietly while complaining about them all being broke. Grian simply rolls his eyes.

“I mean, last time I checked, it’s been a lot more than a week…” Scar says, throwing a glance at Impulse.

“How are you checking the time?” Pearl asks with a laugh. “Where is your clock?” She adds, spinning around with her arms out for emphasis. 

“I’m just saying! I have an impeccable sense of time, you know.”

“Yeah, okay,” Impulse snorts.

“Oookay, that’s it. C’mere–” Scar reaches for Impulse, who easily dodges the very non-fatal blow.

Mumbo gasps, appalled. “No fighting in the void! These are even grounds!”

Grian lets out a huff of a laugh, “Even ground? You’re higher up than everyone else here!” “I’m just tall, that’s all.”

“You’re literally the same height as Pearl.”

“I am not! I’m incredibly tall. I’m almost two and a half blocks, you know.”

“As if! Come here, we’re comparing height,” Pearl says, grabbing Mumbo’s leg.

“Hey hey hey! Hands off! I paid for this!” Mumbo sputters, trying to shake Pearl off as she pulls him closer.

“Well, actually…” Scar drawls as he’s put into a headlock. “You’re the only one that didn’t have any diamonds for payment, Mumbo…”

“Why, you..! I’d never.”

Pearl hooks her arm over Mumbo’s shoulder with ease. “You’re, like, three pixels taller than me! That’s nothing!” she laughs, punching him gently.

“Well, at least I’m taller than Grian.”

Grian lets out a loud gasp, wings opening defensively. He pushes himself toward Mumbo, who barely has time to react as Grian sends them tumbling. Fake-fights break out across the void, with the only bystander laughing her head off. Of course, Scar is a man of fair trade, so he wiggles out of Impulse’s grasp and tackles Pearl. Impulse only eggs them on. 

That is, of course, until a new light glows at their feet.

“Hey, wait, guys…” Impulse says nervously. 

The fights stop, if only for a moment. They all turn their gaze to the demon staring wide-eyed downward. 

“Does… does that look like an actual sky to you?” Impulse continues, pointing down. “I think I see clouds… oh my gods…”

Impulse laughs like a madman. Everyone else looks down. 

Feathery clouds slip by, painting the blue sky beneath them with pastels. They can see hints of green grass peeking through the gaps in their vision. 

Everyone starts laughing, cheering, wooping, hollering, shouting. Everyone lets their joy scatter across the void. Grian hugs Mumbo as tears fill his eyes. Mumbo laughs hysterically into the crook of Grian’s neck. 

Grian looks up. He feels himself changing as the wind strikes his suit, whistling past the cracks, slipping down his wings. His wings shrink, frantic patchwork fixing itself. He turns to face everyone else. 

Scar pulls off his helmet, breathing deeply. His ears are longer, flicking happily. Gold sprouts from his growing hair, braiding itself as gravity finally takes hold of them. 

Grian pushes off Mumbo, pulling off his helmet. 

Cold wind strikes his face, flooding all of his senses. He pulls off the rest of his suit, much like the other Boatem members, letting the pieces fly away. Grian twirls happily as the wind rushes through his hair, seeping into his bones. 

He feels free. 

He opens his small wings, nearly sobbing as the wind pounds against them. He smiles. He lets the wind consume him, rushing through his veins, wrapping around his very soul, sinking deep into his lungs. 

He looks up, watching the void fall away into the overwhelming blue. 

He smiles and closes his eyes. 

Stars trace the inside of his eyelids. 

He falls forever into nothing. 

He barely makes a sound as his ribs shatter with the impact.

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oh SHIT I CAN SHARE MY HERMITCRAFT FIC HERE AHAHAHAHA

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oh i have to make a pinned post ):< lame.

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yay all updated (: we look cool now

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yknow originally i wanted to make an ask blog for Ghost and Ronnie’s shared story, but i feel like just being able to write it out instead is a better idea. of course, i’m always open to questions about it, even if it isn’t related to the story/stories of them i post. they’re a very strange dynamic and i love sharing their weird ass lives

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OH.. we do a little writing, perhaps.. 

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okay. now to figure out what the fuck to do with this blog

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ain’t no fucking way