#Like I was talking to my bestie about how to me i often see grian headcanoned as transmasc and I think that's great

[masque-of-plague]

I am gently holding the idea of bigender Grian

[roxie-roo]

Not A Toy

So this is a little thing(read not so fucking little, jesus this took long), I wrote based on @hithisisboo's thing of "Jimmy deciding to just Leave one day without telling anyone". I took it and I ran with it, as I often do :D!

Hope you all enjoy my nonsense and rambling.

Featuring Southern Jimmy once again. Listener Jimmy, Watcher/actually caring friend when no one's looking Grian(they totally play it up when everyone's watching. These two are besties, we all know this), Flower Ranchers, and Scar being A Dumbass. Also Joel genuinely caring about someone other than Hermes and Sausage!

Enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The toy jokes weren't funny. They never were funny, not to the one at the butt of them. But Jimmy did his best to not show that it got to him. He just continued to work on his railroad and sighed, wiping the sweat off his forehead from the hot mesa sun. Even within the shade of the tunnel, it was still scorching outside. Maybe he was hallucinating when he heard someone near him. Or, maybe he actually had a pesky bird perched on his shulker box, making him unable to open it.

"How much more of this can you take, Timmy?" Grian tilted his head, hands and talons resting against the box. "I mean it. The toy jokes, and everything, how much more can you take?"

Jimmy let out a shriek and jumped, nearly dropping the anvil. He sighed and set it down, taking off his hat and using it to fan his face. "Jesus, Grian, warn a guy next time." He grumbled, decidedly ignoring the question. Grian didn't like that.

"Listen, Tim. I know I rip on you a lot, but you know I care about you. And I know how much you can take."

Jimmy rolled his eyes and sighed. "Listen... If I shoot back at 'em, they do it worse. If I ignore it... maybe they'll finally fuckin' stop." It hurt, it really did. Calling him a toy, a pathetic toy, nothing but a fucking toy.

"Or.." Grian offered. "You could take a break, y'know? Just go on vacation.. not tell anyone. Hey, you could even leave a toy sheriff at your desk and turn off your communicator!"

"Why would I do that?" Jimmy looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ain't that a bit... I dunno, harsh?"

"Isn't what they've been doing to you for months "harsh"..?" Grian raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the walls around Tumble Town. Sure, he'd been part of that whole "Halloween party " debacle, but he'd appropriately apologized afterwards. To his knowledge, he and Scott were the only ones who did so.

The sheriff let out a sigh now that he thought about it. "Fine... Tango gets home soon, I'll talk t'him about it.. see if he wants to come with."

"Good idea. Maybe get Scott to come with too?" Grian gave his friend a knowing grin, snorting when Jimmy swatted at him with his hat. "Take a break, Jim. You deserve it. "

"Right.." Jimmy nodded a little. "Thanks f'that.. pesky watcher."

"Annoying listener." Grian shot back with a smug grin, perfect for Grian. "I'll see ya around." And with that, he launched himself off the box.

Jimmy shook his head and sighed, heading out to find Scar. The somewhat deputy was working on a new project, and hardly noticed the sheriff's approach, until he heard the clear of a throat.

"Oh! Howdy, sheriff! What can I do for you?"

"I need you to look after Tumble Town for me.. Put a sheriff toy at my desk."

That was an odd request, sure. But what the sheriff said, went.

~~~~~~

Tango got home a few minutes before sundown. He stretched, body tense and cramped from working in the cave for so long, when he was suddenly ambushed by a much taller figure. Jimmy, who was almost immediately scooping him into a hug and covering his face in kisses. Tango laughed, holding onto Jimmy and leaning into the affection. "Hello to you too, Rancher." He teased. "What's all this about? You miss me or something?"

"Let's go on vacation." He didn't answer the question. "You, me, and Scott, let's.. let's go somewhere.. Somewhere far away.."

"Jimmy.." Tango cupped his face gently. "Love, are you feeling okay?"

"I will be.." Jimmy answered, vague yet again. "I messaged Scott already."

It seemed there was no changing his mind about this. "Alright.." Tango nodded. "But what about Tumble Town? While you're gone-"

"If they want a toy sheriff, I'll give 'em a toy sheriff." Jimmy shrugged. Tango caught on almost instantly.

"Oh, buttercup that's evil...." He grinned, standing on his tiptoes a little to kiss Jimmy's cheek. "I love it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The vacation day crept up on Jimmy's partners, but that's not to say they all weren't excited for it. Scar promised he wouldn't burn Tumble Town to the ground, and the few who knew of the vacation promised they wouldn't say a word. And with that, the three of them set off. Three horses for three riders, Jimmy taking Bullseye, obviously.

"So,, where are we going?" Tango piped up. Jimmy's grin didn't falter, and to his partners, that was the cutest damn thing.

"Dunno! We'll find out when we get there."

"An adventure and a vacation?" Scott mused to himself with a grin. "I could get used to this.."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a few days for anyone to notice the three of them gone first. It started with Fwhip realizing that Tango hadn't come into work. That little spring of panic was settled by a note on Fwhip's desk, saying he was taking some time off, and that this super smelter took a lot out of him. Fwhip understood that. It took a lot of out him when he built it last time.

Then it was Joel making his way into Tumble Town with a broad, mischievous grin. "Oh toy boy!" He called out. No response. Strange, usually Jimmy would be running out to yell about how he's not a toy. But today there was nothing. Joel tried again, calling out various toy related nicknames, before resorting to "sheriff", and eventually "Jimmy where the hell are you?!". No response. The god of thunder found and cornered Scar, narrowing his eyes at the slightly panicked deputy. "Where's Jimmy?" He didn't know why he was so angry.

It's just that the thought of anything happening to the sheriff, without it being his own hands that did it, felt wrong. Scar gulped and looked up at the eleven-foot tall god, his face a shade paler than it was a moment ago.

He had to act quickly, the hand on Joel's hip and the impatient tap of his foot didn't bode well. If anyone asks, jus' play dumb, he recalled the advice the sheriff gave, and internally thanked the gods(not Joel) that he was very good at playing dumb.

"Who's that?" He had the most innocent of smiles on his face. Joel scoffed.

"Don't play dumb with me." That was quite literally what Jimmy had instructed him to do, he couldn't not obey the order given.

"I'm not. I don't know what you're talking about."

The god left in a huff, and Scar let out a quite audible sigh of relief, leaning against the side of the railcar that he was building. The peace didn't last long, as a voice sent him into a fit of shrieks, whipping around to face the direction it came from.

"He said play dumb, Scar. He didn't mean that dumb."

"I'm doing my best, Grian, leave me alone!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things only got worse when Joel noticed the stuffed sheriff toy, sitting perched in the office chair where Jimmy would be sitting. Wait. Did he...? No, no no no, of course not! That's not possible, right? He took the toy to the first person he could think of that might be able to help even a little bit. Scott wasn't here, he wouldn't be able to tell if this was magic or not, the next best thing was Shelby.

Whom he unceremoniously awoke at close to four in the morning. The swamp witch groaned and rubbed her eyes, blindly feeling around for her glasses when she felt the rumble of the ground outside. The god landing down outside her home. Grabbing her glasses and making sure they didn't fall to the ground, she slipped out of bed and slid them on her face, grumbling under her breath and taking her wand from the night stand. Why couldn't this have waited until morning?

All questions left when she saw how panicked Joel looked. How small the usually 11 foot god seemed to be. Metaphorically, anyways, physically he was just as giant.

"Joel?" She called out hesitantly, casting a simple light spell in place of grabbing the- wait, where was her normal lanterns? Why was there a soul lantern... doesn't matter, back to the task at hand. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Shelby, I think I messed up.." He croaked out. It was rare to ever hear a god, let alone Joel specifically, admit to messing up. Shelby would later recount this in her journal as one of the top weirdest things that's happened to her since living in the Evermoore. "I- I went to visit Jimmy and check up on him but I found this-" he wildly gestured to the toy sheriff he was dangling, "in his office instead- and I don't know if I turned him into this, or- or-"

"Joel- Joel!" Shelby hated yelling, but it at least seemed to get him out of that panicked spiral. "I don't think this is a magic thing." She took the toy gently and adjusted the light in her wand to inspect it further. "Yeah, no... I don't think this is magic at all. If it were Jimmy, I think it'd be more uncanny looking.. Like,, you can tell it's supposed to be human, but something isn't quite right."

"Yeah.. okay..." Joel took the sheriff toy back and stared down at it. This was going to be a long few weeks of trying to figure out just what was going on.

Was Jimmy okay? Hurt? Dead? Who knows? Not Joel. Not Fwhip, nor Shelby, nor anyone else around. All they could do was hope to Saint Pearl he was fine. He had to be, right? He was the sheriff. He was fine.

Right?

[halorocks1214]

ask game: 🌺 grian :D

thanks bestie <3 og post talking about this game is pinned to my blog! still taking answers if anyone wants another from me~

potential title: godly science

synopsis: in a universe where grian actually enjoys being a watcher (but still keeps it a secret 'cause he's not stupid, duh) and on a trip to get zedaph back for a prank, grian manages to run into the scientist and is caught red-handed. through wacky hijinks, they accidentally set off one of zedaph's experimental redstone machines. needless to say, things get freaky in more ways than one

[...]

Grian could feel his skin stick to the metal flooring as he peeled it off.

Thinking about it now, it was probably very stupid to mess around in a room with a bunch of buttons, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. Grian was just happy he didn't do it on purpose this time. Maybe he could use this as an excuse in the future; I tried showing restraint once and that didn't change the outcome whatsoever!

Some hair proceeded to flop in front of his eyes, and because of his grogginess, it took him a second to realize it was his bangs. Bangs that were a lighter blond color than they normally were. And then came the lab goggles as they slid down his forehead to sit halfway on his eyes, obstructing his vision more than helping it.

Wait.

Moving the goggles he never put on back to the top of his head, he rubbed his eyes so he could see more clearly and blinked down at the metal flooring once more to notice Zedaph staring back at him.

But it wasn't Zedaph. It was him looking at his reflection. That just so happened to look like-

Oh no.

"Grian? What's happening to me?"

Slowly turning around to face his friend, Grian was met with the sight of himself wearing three pairs of wings and multiple glowing purple eyes surrounding his head. His original eyes were squinting like they needed glasses they weren't currently wearing, and the wings were drooping in a way that said Zedaph didn't know how to properly hold them up.

The thing about baby Watchers was that they were ten pounds of chaos in a five-pound basket. They often accidentally had their wings out, or used more eyes than necessary, or occasionally destroyed a server when they simply meant to visit it. You usually made sure new Watchers practiced in empty worlds for those reasons and more.

Zedaph, who had probably never even heard of Watchers until this moment, had no way of knowing how to properly handle or control the energy now flowing through his veins.

"Grian?" Zedaph asked again, this time with more clarity. He was smart; he was most likely finally connecting the dots, "What are you?"

[dodo-begone]

It's Tough to be Mortal

Pairing: God!Reader x Hermitcraft

Request: DODO MY BELOVED DO YOU REMEMBER THE CONVO WE HAD ABOUT GOD READER. WOULD YOU BE COOL WRITING THAT BESTIE?

Word count: 4k

Grian was standing in front of his mansion, debating on what needed revamping. Sure it was already enormous but there was something missing about it. It’s been bothering him for ages. An answer that always seemed to appear was something others would call outlandish. Something more than unnecessary.

His mansion needed to be taller.

Did his mansion already tower over the rainforest that lay before of it? Yes. Did it also go pretty far below ground level? Also yes. A grand mansion like this must have something to separate it from the surrounding area. The moat-like feature couldn’t be small either. No, that’d be an injustice to the mansion. What he needed was something to-scale for it. Though it’d be nice if his nether portals would actually fit in the little arches he dug out…

“Hey Grian!” a voice suddenly appeared. It’s unexpected entrance made it seem like a bellow and it was absolutely terrifying to hear.

Grian shrieked, jumping around to see who disturbed him from his thoughts. There, behind him, was little ole you. If he weren’t so spooked, he would’ve found your expression rather hilarious.

Your face was a gorgeous combination of joy with a hint of confusion. The expression was similar to one Grian wore often. He mostly wore it when he was found pranking the other hermits. Although you did many pranks alongside him, it didn’t seem like you were trying to pull on now. “Seem” being the key word. Appearances can be deceiving after all.

“Why hello there,” Grian was grateful for your sudden appearance. Another set of eyes to help decide what was missing. It was like the gods just knew of his plight. “Why’d you come visit?”

“Oh I just wanted to chit-chat,” You reply, your eyes wandering to Grian’s most recent muse. “But you seem somewhat busy at the moment. I’ll come by another time.”

“Wait,” Grian still desperately needed an outsider’s opinion. “We can talk right now. I’m just trying to figure out what my mansion is missing.”

“Are you sure,” you prod. Talking to Grian after you interrupted him felt wrong. He was obviously busy and you disturbed him more than you should’ve. The creative process could be rather elusive once you have it, easily escaping the moment you stop thinking of it.

“Positive.”

“Well, if you insist,” you give in rather easily. How you craved interaction. And it was so readily available here as well. “I mostly came over to thank you.”

“Thank me for what,” Grian was beyond confused. First off you could be thankful for anything. Second off you didn’t need to thank him for anything. Third off he can’t think of anything he’d done for you that you hadn’t thank him for already. “You don’t have to thank me for anything, you know. Everything was a pleasure to do.”

“But i still feel like making you aware,” you reply so nonchalantly to him. In a way it seemed like you didn’t care what he had to say in reply. He knew you did care, you’ve shown you cared in the past. But now it seems to be the opposite. It must’ve been like one of those cases where you don’t listen to a friend when you help them because they think they’re a problem. That’s what it feels like anyways.

“You and the hermits made me realize so many things about life I had either long forgotten or never realized,” your words were spoken in such a soft manner, like you were dreamily reliving whatever you were referring to.

“Again, it wasn’t a problem at all,” Grian reiterated himself. He didn’t want to seem rude but at the same time it honestly wasn’t something that bothered or irked him. Although he may not have realized he was helping you with that, it was nice to know you felt great about your interactions together.

You looked like you were far from finished talking though. So Grian decided to listen to your words. Maybe look at what needed fixing with his mansion. No, that’d be rather rude.

“With our interactions together,” you were restarting whatever you were saying. Oh boy. “the small joys of life have been revealed to me. For example, I never knew those loud boxes of yours had any significance besides just making a loud noise. Well they are made to make noise, but I was unaware of the significance besides that. Now, through you, I have found the sounds rather joyful. I never knew you could trap music in a box until now.”

Grian had been beyond confused with your description. It felt odd and awkward. He only figured out what you meant when you said “music in a box”. Either you meant a music box or a jukebox. Everyone knew what a music box was; everyone had interacted with one in their lifetime whether they remembered it or not. Jukeboxes were also a well known item. Your experience with them felt odd to hear. Very alien. Who doesn’t know what a juke box is?

“Oh don’t even get me started on those little slimy critters,” you excitement seemed to grow exponentially. If he weren’t there to see it, he would have a hard time picturing what that description would entail. “The slimy ones are slugs, right? I think they’re slugs. Not those square ones, no i know those are Slimes. But the cylindrical ones, i think that’s what you call that shape, that most people find rather unpleasant. They live in gardens. Yes, those. I never got to experience them up close until recently. Also the little slugs with shells.” You pause, a look of deep concentration covers your face. A few times you try to restart your description with the name but come up empty.

The pause is long enough to give away that you most likely didn’t remember the name of what you described at all. It was rather cute because you were so deep in thought about it. You looked around too, like anything could give you a clue as to your mystery animal.

“Do you mean snail,” Grian prompted. He was giving you a stick to latch onto. Watching you flail for an answer any longer would be cruel.

“Yes,” you reply gleefully,” those things. Snails and slugs are so sweet. I can’t believe people can dislike them so much. They regard them as pests but they’re just little wonders. It’s so hard to see why people dislike them. Is it because they’re slimy, like blood?”

That description felt like a record scratching or stopping; it felt like the mood got changed completely. “Excuse me,” Grian laughed nervously. He simply must’ve misheard. “Could you repeat that?”

“I absolutely can- wait, which part do you need,” your confusion was rather evident. Did you really have no clue where the problem lay?

“The snail and slug part. Where you were wondering why people didn’t like them. What was the reasoning you gave?”

“Oh that! I said, ‘is it because they’re slimy, like blood’” You reply so helpfully. A child-like glee seemed to emanate from you.

“I don’t think that’s exactly why people dislike them,” Grian began. He didn’t know how to bring it up to you that your description wasn’t wrong but also wasn’t right. “Some people dislike them because they eat, destroy or kill their plants. Or they have a plethora of them where they’re unwanted.”

“Oh,” somehow his answer saddened you. “So they treat them like unwanted kittens?”

Again, you weren’t wrong nor were you exactly right. It just didn’t exactly sit right with him. Because yes, they could be treated like unwanted kittens.

“Sure,” It was simpler to just go along with it. After all, the general idea wasn’t wrong. Anything unwanted was a pest in someone’s eyes and therefore treated like one.

“Oh the poor things,” you start to tear up. “Why do people treat them like that?” You’re tearing up over snails and slugs? This is going to be a long explanation as to why they’re treated so horribly. He really didn’t want to have to break your heart further over the slugs and snails, but your pained yet curious eyes just begged for more information. It was going to be a long day.

______________________________________________________________

The clicking of redstone echoed around the cavern. After a long chain of clicks, lights flickered and moved. It was like the sun, although the appearance was shoddy and limited considering what it was made of.

It’s creation was for one purpose; to replicate the sun but underground. A quirky clock. Very large and eye catching. Much more eye catching than a regular clock anyways. The ceiling was partially ripped out, revealing the dazzling rays of sunlight that peaked over the horizon.

Zedaph, the creator of this magnificent creation, stood below it. Both looking at it in awe and scrupulously. He was only at the beginning stages but this played a key part in showing the progress. Was he actually doing everything right? It already moved once but it did that last time. Oh it’s getting close to changing now, or should be. “Zedaph,” you flung yourself at him, hanging onto him as you two went down. Although not the most pleasant entrance, it was rather endearing. “Oh sorry about that! Looks like I got a wee bit over excited.”

“It’s alright,” you two got off the ground, you much more gracefully than him. “It didn’t hurt too much.”

“Oh my gosh I hurt you,” you frantically search Zedaph over, looking for any sign of damage you might have caused. “Oh i am so so sorry I didn’t mean for any of that to happen I just-” “I said it’s alright,” Zedaph reiterates, gently pushing you away. “I’m perfectly fine. See?” He even does a little twirl for you.

You don’t seem convinced, not in the slightest. But your second attempt to search him gets declined and you’re forced to believe him. At least somewhat.

“So what brings you around here,” Zedaph inquires. “I know my indoor sun-clock system is pretty awesome, but it’s far from complete. And there isn’t really anything else in the cave of contraptions either.”

“I’m well aware of that,” your reply is odd, but easily overlooked. All of the other hermits have their quirks, after all. This is no different. “But I came over for other reasons.”

“Other reasons?” “Well not reasons,” you correct yourself. “What I actually mean is reason. I don’t know why I said reasons. Why did I say- anyways I just wanted to talk with you.”

“Some good ole talking with me,” Zedaph had to clear any doubt, even though there really shouldn’t have been any. “Well I’m quite honored to have you over to talk. What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh I simply wanted to discuss the differences between Hermitcraft and other servers. I knew Hermitcraft was different but I couldn’t put a finger on what it was. That was until recently. That “eureka” moment hit me and I just had to share with someone.” Your self satisfaction was undeniable and honestly somewhat charming in the way you were so pleased and proud by your actions.

“How so,” Zedaph inquires. He wants to listen to you, he really does. But redstone is just calling his name and how can he deny it. So he starts to fiddle with some redstone. Find a way to do the decline of the sun for his clock. He could easily listen to what you were saying and figure this out, right? It couldn’t be that hard.

“So I noticed how everything is so nice and peaceful here,” you remark, slowly following him. “It’s like one of those fairytales you share to your children. So absolutely perfect. Then there are others where chaos reigns like there’s no god but itself. You know what I’m saying.”

“Uh-huh,” Zedaph mindlessly agrees with whatever you just said. “Fairytales are like that.”

“Excellent,” you quietly cheer in joy at his supposed “understanding”. “So anyways this place is so much less malevolently chaotic and more playfully chaotic. And I recently realized something. Something that you guys don’t do that many other servers do. Are you aware of what that is?”

“Yea sure,” Zedaph started to fiddle around with the placement of droppers and redstone. “Go right on ahead.”

“Okay! So what you guys don’t do is something many other servers do- oh I just mentioned that. But anyways! There’s so little violence, it’s truly wonderful, don’t get me wrong. I must inquire though, do you expect there to be any violence? Anytime soon for that matter?”

Zedaph gives a simple “no” before his mind and hands are back onto the redstone before him.

“Well that’s great yet terrible,” you sigh in disappointment. “A true tragedy. Guess I need to go to another server again.”

Those words caught Zedaph’s attention rather quickly. He’d only half listened before but you now had his entire attention.

His mouth spoke faster than he could think. “Why would you go somewhere else? Especially for violence?”

He turns to you and is greeted with your confusion. Perplexion shows itself well on your face, accentuated by a small head tilt. It was a silent way of asking “are you really asking this” or a simple curiosity. Either or really. Yet this didn’t clear his confusion at all. If anything, it made everything just that more muddled. Why are you acting like he should know the answer?

“No I genuinely don’t understand. Can you please explain?” Zedaph hoped you could actually clear his confusion rather than make it worse. You had to. After all, people usually start to clear up what they said after you ask at least once or twice.

“Well you guys have no violence,” You reply so matter of factly. This still doesn’t help. Zedaph’s mild fear and confusion must’ve been evident as you continued with your explanation. “It’s rather simple really. I feed off of violence, in a crude description of it. And I could spark some conflict here rather easily, get my fill without having to leave. But I like you guys too much to just make you suffer so. That’s why I asked. Because if I did it, the conflict would be so much worse than what you guys would create.”

Zedaph was baffled and stumped. Okay that made sense yet didn’t all at the same time. Like yeah some people thrive off of drama, so violence could be similar-ish. He was just making excuses at this point. He really didn’t understand any of that.

“And you guys rarely make sacrifices as well,” you muse, not taking into account that you lost Zedaph literally ages ago.

“Excuse me did you say “sacrifices” because I must’ve heard wrong. Nobody really makes sacrifices in this day and age.” Zedaph was getting more unnerved with each new thing you mention. It’s like the more you talk, the worse everything gets.

“Yeah I said sacrifices. Gosh you’re so silly,” you giggle at his “ignorance”. “People still make sacrifices! You just aren’t in the right crowd when it happens, that’s all.”

“Okay and uuh,” his confusion blurs everything ever more. How could he nicely and politely state this? Is there a nice way to state or ask what in God’s name was going on? “What do they sacrifice, exactly?”

“You know, the usual things,” another answered in a manner that just screamed “you should know this man”. Like a teenager with their fads. “Like items and that jazz. Things that are deemed “important” or whatever. You know, the usual sacrifice stuff.”

“No, I have no clue why,” his irritation was becoming very apparent. “That’s why I was asking.”

“Oh well I’m no good at explaining this type of stuff,” you mutter, going deep into your thoughts. “You know what? I should get going. I don’t want to bother you much more.”

Zedaph sees you walk out a door and tries to stop you, yet you’re gone before he knows it. You just magically poof away the moment you’re out of sight. Wow you are just so darn fast. The awkward energy became too much? Or was it the explanation that chased you away? Did he pressure you too much?

Questions ran rampant in his mind after your interaction. He wanted answers for them, but he’d have to wait until he saw you again to ask.

______________________________________________________________

Many other odd events go on across the server. Each having one thing in common: you. You were in every interaction where something odd was mentioned or happened. After stories were traded about your interaction with each of them, it finally became too much to ignore. Yes, all of them had little quirks or be quirky in general, but this was excessive. Maybe it was just the style you did things, but they needed confirmation.

So they called together a meeting. One where everyone could hear what you had been up to and these anomalous events.

Around their little circle they went, each recounting your actions and the events that happened afterwards. With each person you became more peculiar, more of a figure to be gawked at. There were so many things and all so incredible.

Doc recounted how you were helping him with his redstone and in turn trying to learn the redstone Doc was doing. It was supposed to be a day-long-ish lesson for you two. Everything had gone well, quite normal, in fact.

You were rather studious, watching his actions slowly and taking all he did into memory. A few questions were brought up, which was also a normal thing. Redstone was a rather confusing subject. But then an odd question came out of practically nowhere. Nothing prompted it, as far as Doc was aware. Well, one thing could’ve but even then it was farfetched.

He had mentioned how he was a block or two short on what he needed. A block that’d fit the color scheme of the farm he had been working on. And you simply asked if he needed a block because you had one on you. He replied with a simple yes and that should’ve been the end of the interaction, besides the transition of said item.

Dropped into his unsuspecting hands was a block of bedrock. It was black and grey. Something that went with what he was building with. So he placed it down without much of a second thought. But when he tried to move it later on, he realized what had happened. Though how it all exactly happened was a mystery. How could you have gotten some bedrock?

When everybody at the meeting had shared what was going on, it was clear. Clear but not clear. It was like you had some powers. Admin powers, to be exact. But you weren’t an admin. Far from it. You had only recently joined the server. So that begged the question; how did you obtain those items and why were you reacting the way you were?

Your actions seemed to hold little to no regard for those you found “unimportant” but hyperfocused on those you did. Aloof was another way to describe your demeanor. An aloof person that held a regal air around them. Like nothing could touch them.

Their chatter was growing in volume the longer they were together. Arguing ensued over what could be going on. Was some mythical force at work? Were you some type of hybrid? A hybrid with powers they were unaware of? Were you a hacker? The possibilities were nearly endless but one thing was certain; you were not a normal hermit.

A loud cough broke through the cacophony of voices, effectively silencing them. Confusion soon took hold of the group. Wait, everyone was here though. And nobody in the circle did it. Right? It didn’t sound like any of them, at least. Another cough was released and almost every head in that circle whipped toward the direction the cough originated from. Their answer stood behind them, at the entrance.

You stood there, a confused look adorned your face along with a little head tilt. Why were you here? Did anybody invite you? They didn’t remember inviting you. At least the majority of them didn’t.

Scar quickly got out of his chair, walking over for a hug and some greetings. He thanked you for coming and gave you the unfortunate news that the meeting was coming to a close. Man he really told you the wrong time, huh? That was his bad.

You simper, shifting your view over to the remaining hermits. Grin widening, you give them a squinted smile and a little hand wave.

It was obvious now, didn’t need to be said. But it seemed Scar had invited you along as well. They really should have specified who needed to come to the meeting instead of “everyone” because- well this could work in their favor.

“So what’d I miss,” you ask, making your way over the hermits with Scar by your side. “Scar didn’t exactly tell me what this was all about. But he didn’t know either. Did you all miss some information when you were inviting people?”

They look between each other, trying to find someone with the courage to break the question to you. One of them had to do it, but which one of them would?

Finally a brave soul spoke up. It was their admin, Xisuma. Grateful couldn’t even describe how they felt when he started to talk to you.

“We’ve actually been meaning to ask you something,” Xisuma speaks in a measured and steady tone. One that gave away no weakness he might’ve been experiencing. Like anxiety or how awkward it was to even ask someone something about themselves. Something that would, in usual cases, be seen as an insult or something akin to that. A negative thing.

“Oh,” you play his game, humoring him and going along with the unspoken script. “What do you want to know?”

“It’s actually quite simple really,” Xisuma starts, but soon pauses again. A few false starts later and he’s back on his feet, metaphorically anyways. “This is going to sound very odd and quite possibly rude. But are you, um, are you a god, by chance?”

Silence came to suffocate the room after his question came out into the open. The air was tense with anxiety.

“Oh yea that,” you giggle. “Yea I am. So what?”

“I’m sorry, but did you say “so what”?” Xisuma wanted clarification because there was no way you just answered with that. “So what”? That was definitely an unexpected answer. Honestly they weren’t expecting too much or too much. It was hard to tell.

“Yes I did,” you speak your words slowly and methodically, checking the reactions of everyone in the room. Like a switch your words flow from a molasses like pace to water. “Look I’d absolutely love to get into this and talk with you all about this in depth, but it really isn’t a good idea. I haven’t had the best experiences with explaining this type of stuff with… well with beings like you.”

Everyone was giving each other looks, silently asking each other “is this really going on” or “Excuse me, what now”. Silence settles over the group again. You leave them some time to ponder over the news, but not enough for it to cause any trouble. At least that’s what you think.

You clap your hands and it echoes around the room, once again catching everyone’s attention. “Look like I said, I’d love to explain this all to you. This isn’t the best time though. So why don’t we just chill out? Talk to each other like the friends we are! You guys have cookies, right? Scar said you guys would have cookies.”

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

A writing request, if you would like! I'd love to see Skizz and Martyn hanging out and getting closer after 3rd Life ends. Like just the both of them missing their respective hermit besties because they're both so busy with the new season and whatnot, and the two of them bonding further over it. Their friendship was the best and I wish we could have seen more of it on screen

such an underrated friendship T_T i miss them sm

and no i am definitely not in denial over Martyn saying he would betray Ren if it came down to it. nope. no. no way. definitely not. nada.

...

Sitting alone at spawn, Skizz wonders not for the first time why he’s out here alone. The ruins of the 3rd Life world, a place full of both painful and wonderful memories, is not exactly the first choice for a hangout spot. Grian has granted everyone access to the world, exactly how it was left at the end of the series, but nobody ever comes here except Skizz.

And maybe one other person.

“Room for one more?”

Skizz glances up and spots a familiar face coming towards him, his usual smile on his face.

“Oh! Hi!” Skizz’s expression brightens. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Yeah, ‘course, sit.”

Martyn sits down on the grass beside him. “You here for the nostalgia, or…?”

“Kinda. Legacy’s been really slow lately so it feels like being here is just as productive as being over there.”

“I know what you mean,” says Martyn. “So, um… How’s you and Impulse these days? After the whole, uh… stab-in-the-back thing.”

“Ah.” Skizz nods slowly. “Yeah, it’s… progress has stalled a little. I felt like we were almost back to normal, but then Hermitcraft Season 8 started and he’s been super busy with that. They all have; Impulse, Tango, Etho, literally everyone I usually hang out with. It’s hard to repair your relationship with someone when you don’t get to talk to them even once a week.”

“Yeah, I’m having the same with Ren. We promised to hang out as often as we could but I haven’t even spoken to him in a few weeks. That’s why I’m really hoping Scott will put me on a team with Ren for MCC.”

“MCC?” repeats Skizz. “Oh, you mean that tournament thing?”

Martyn nods. “Yeah. Scott organises the teams; I’m currently expecting a message from him to let me know who he’s put me with.”

“Oh man, I can’t even begin to imagine how epic you two would be together on an MCC team. You could win it for Dogwarts!”

“3rd Life is over, dude,” says Martyn with a chuckle. “Dogwarts doesn’t exist anymore.”

Skizz laughs back. “In my heart, it still does.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Dogwarts was…” Skizz hesitates, searching for the right words. “...a sense of community that I’ve never felt before. Legacy is incredible of course and I love everyone on there, but it took ages to build up that kind of connection. With you guys, I just… It almost felt like love at first sight, you know? We bonded so quickly and even though I’d never met you before 3rd Life and I’d only interacted with Etho and Ren through Among Us before, I felt like I’d die for you guys as soon as Ren gave me the Dogwarts banner.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Martyn says, to Skizz’s surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I came into this expecting to do whatever it took to win, but I came out of it with at least two new friends for life.”

Skizz decides to ask a question that’s been on his mind for a long time now. “Martyn, if you and Ren had made it to the final few, what would you have done? Would you have stayed loyal to him?”

Martyn falls silent.

Skizz frowns at him, but his friend’s lack of a reply is really all the answer he needs. “Oh… I see.”

“Okay, listen. I’m not sure, alright? I wanted to win, but I don’t know if I actually would’ve been able to go through with betraying him. Frankly, I choose to see it as a “the situation didn’t arise so I don’t need to think about it” kind of thing.”

“Huh. Fair enough.”

After a moment, Martyn gives a quiet sigh. “Okay, I don’t think I would’ve actually done it. Ren… He… He was the first person I’d met in a long time who really took the time to get to know me. I stayed with him out of necessity at first but he was… he was - IS - different than anyone else I’ve ever met. You know?”

“I think so,” says Skizz. “There’s just that connection, huh? When you know instantly you’ve met a friend for life. I got that with you the second you said you’d go through the underground tunnel to back me up against Grian and Scar.”

“Really?” chuckles Martyn. “That moment?”

“Yup. We hardly knew each other and our alliance wasn’t properly cemented yet but the way you talked, like it was never in doubt that you’d come to my aid, just clinched it for me. I knew then that I’d be bonded with you guys forever.”

Martyn thinks for a moment. “Looking back on it now, I think the moment I realised was when you revealed the tunnel you’d spent ages and ages building. That kinda made it fully sink in that “oh, we’re really in this together now”.”

“Oh yeah, I get what you mean.”

A short silence follows this, punctuated by Martyn’s communicator going off. He quickly checks it. Skizz watches a smile slowly spread over his face.

“Message from Scott,” says Martyn, his voice mostly controlled but with a slight tremor.

Skizz stares at him, hardly daring to hope. “No way…!”

Martyn’s smile widens into a grin. “Yeah! It’s me, Illumina, FalseSymmetry, and… and Ren.”

“Oh my gosh! You guys are gonna represent Dogwarts at MCC!”

“And that’s an AMAZING team, too,” Martyn adds. “False and Illumina are extremely good. I think we might have a real chance.”

“I totally believe in you guys!” Skizz sighs enviously. “I really wish I could watch you out there.”

Martyn glances sideways at him. “Well… there ARE spectators at the event. It’s by invitation only, but you and I both know the organiser of MCC, so…”

“Wait…!” Skizz’s eyes widen. “You think I can actually get to watch you guys in MCC?!”

“Yeah, I think we can arrange that!”

Excitement floods Skizz like a waterfall and he instinctively grabs Martyn in a hug. After a slightly startled moment, Martyn laughs and hugs his friend back.

Finally, Skizz releases Martyn and stands up, stretching out his limbs. “You wanna go for a walk and throw rocks at the ruins of the stupid desert?”

Martyn grins back and gets to his feet alongside his friend.

“Yes, yes I would.”