#and may and grian will call them out on it

[applepixls]

lowkey why do cody and may's dialogue from It Takes Two kind of sound like grian and scar

[infizero]

listen i was guilty of this once upon a time too but dawg ppl GOTTA stop calling any platonic dynamic they like “siblings” without any precedence 

[cheerioskid]

moon goddess pearl and sun god grian from the moonrise au by @germworms and i!!

more explanation below

basically pearl and grian are siblings and they both control the sun and moon on the world the au takes place on (we called it "square earth" hehe)

their respective prophets are mumbo and bdubs (mumbo stayed up all night anyway working on redstone contraptions so pearl figured he would be the best candidate and bdubs always sleeps through the night and enjoys the day so grian chose him) theres silly sibling beef between them bc mumbo is grians fav human and pearl just had to choose him :)

overtime grian starts to worry that he's falling into the habits of the old sun before him, joel--a collapsed star who turned himself into a black hole and brought the old moon goddess, lizzie, with him into nothingness and obscurity (may make a post about them later)

in an attempt to avoid this or at least postpone it, grian disappears to live life as a "human" in disguise (he's tired of working as a god anyway) and forgoes his duty for an indefinite amount of time. no one else, not even pearl, knows where he's gone

without the sun to warm the land the season remains as winter (called the "red winter" bc of how much death occurs) many humans suffer, leading them to resent pearl for what's going on. pearl is trying desperately to work with the other gods (mainly bigb) to figure out where her brothers gone but to no avail

that's all for now!! stay tuned for more updates and check out Sea (germworms) as well!!!

[cubfan135-facts]

cubfan135 fact #21:

Hermitcraft season 6 featured an unknown individual known only as The Jingler, who conducted a series of pranks on several hermits. Those who fell victim to the Jingler's pranks were often referred to as being "#Jingled". Some pranks included (but are not limited to) vandalizing Grian's map room to say "You have been J-J-Jingled!!!", and leaving a mysterious book in Hermitville with coordinates that merely led to a sign reading, "GG You've been had! #Jingled".

The Jingler's identity was never revealed by the time Season 6 had concluded. Fans and hermits alike speculated their true identity for years. Many fans believed them to be Grian, however it was unlikely as Grian already had two prankster alter egos in Season 6, Poultry Man and The Salmon Ghost. GoodTimesWithScar was revealed to be the Jangler, a different entity entirely with no official ties to the Jingler. Rendog was suspected of being the Jingler for asking his viewers to "jingle that [notification] bell" at the end of his videos. Tango was also suspected of being the Jingler, as his returns to the server coincidentally aligned with the Jingler's pranks.

The most in-depth search for the identity of the jingler on the Hermitcraft server appears to be from Joehills. Upon checking the community mailbox, Joehills discovered a message from the Jingler left in every hermit's mailbox. Deciding that he could not let this devious behavior continue, he set out to follow a trail to reveal their true identity. He initially asks for the help of his viewers to gather intel from other hermit's videos, however this effort would prove fruitless as the Jingler carefully made sure to never reveal themselves on camera. Joe suspects a parrot by the name of Jingles to be behind the pranks, claiming that the parrot works for ConCorp. However, it is possible he was actually thinking of Captain Jack Sparrow, the CEO of ConCorp, and the lead seemed to come to a dead end.

The Jingler's identity was still unknown by the end of season 6, leaving both fans and hermits to speculate on their identity for years. Many began to believe there was no one true Jingler, but the hermits as a collective conducted a multitude of pranks under one common alias.

The Jingler's identity was finally revealed on April 23, 2022 on the Hermitcraft 10-year anniversary livestream. Cub admitted to being the Jingler, notably only after being asked directly by Jevin. Grian in particular was so distraught by the revelation that he joined the discord call from his mobile phone to comment on the situation.

Hermitcraft season 6 began in July of 2018, meaning that the identity of the Jingler was kept a secret for roughly 4 years. It is possible that this is the longest-kept secret in all of Hermitcraft history. The only known "evidence" of Cub being the Jingler is when he is seen during Impulse's Season 6 episode 32 asking if Grian has completed the infinity room. It is likely Cub was inquiring either to see if he could vandalize the map without Grian noticing, or to see Grian's reaction if the prank had already been carried out. Besides this small piece of circumstantial evidence, there was virtually no proof of Cub being the Jingler prior to April 2022. The most concerning detail in this story is, perhaps, the fact that the identity of the Jingler was only revealed when Cub was directly confronted by Jevin on stream. It is unknown if Cub ever planned to reveal the Jingler's identity on his own, and he very well may have intended to take this secret to the grave.

[ceratedfish24]

Mumbo has been shaking the trust between Grian and Skizz since literally the first episode and no one has said anything. He kept telling Skizz that Grian was going to betray them. With the language he uses, he makes himself look like he’s on Skizz’s side. Then, he spends the whole 3rd session with Grian, telling him how they should leave Skizz or kill Skizz or let Skizz die. He says condescending things about Skizz like how he just “makes noises to his death”. Unusually, Grian isn’t even trying to spend time with Mumbo. Mumbo has mostly been following him around uninvited, trying to establish connection. He wants to make it seem like he’s the only one who’s there for Grian. However, when all three of them are together, Mumbo is usually complimenting Skizz, while Grian chastises Skizz. This makes Mumbo out to be the good guy, even though he was feeding Grian ideas about how bad Skizz is as a teammate. He even tells Grian that he’s the only friend Grian needs. This is a common manipulator behavior. The point is to isolate Grian, make Grian’s other friends look lesser than or antagonize them, and make Grian be the one to push them away so that Mumbo doesn’t seem at fault. It’s all about control. He wants to control Grian.

Do you see how that sounds CRAZY. This is how people talk about Scott and Pearl. Mumbo is just being silly with his friends, and Scott deserves that same space without being called the bad guy. I understand that you guys are talking about Scott’s character, but you’re forgetting that Scott is not actively trying to play a character. Do you know how much it sucks to have a silly competition with your friends only to have thousands of people overanalyze your every move and calling you the bad guy for teasing your friends? Do you understand that this is not an analysis of a character so much as of a real person in a competitive environment with a bunch of his friends who he trusts and understands the boundaries of and therefore may tease and chastise more as a joke because he trusts them not to take it the wrong way? Imagine messing around with your friends and everyone starts telling you specifically that you’re manipulating your friends when you tell them not to shout in a library. That’s how people are treating Scott for chastising Pearl and Impulse about antagonizing Gem and Joel. You’re all so forgiving when it’s not Scott, but once this one particular guy is in the hot seat it’s game over. Does it not feel targeted to you?

[thesentientmango]

If the traffic life games were all about survival, Jimmy would be the grand loser. There was no argument about that.

But as anyone who made it to the end, outlived them all, would say, that didn't feel like winning.

To be the one who had to live.

Grian killed himself.

Scott lived, and then died, out of spite.

Pearl, in life or death, was alone.

Martyn rotted with answers he didn't want.

And that's because the games are not about survival. They're about living.

They're life games.

Some call them death games, but in the end.

It was about living, despite what might come for you.

And Jimmy, Jimmy is good at that.

He made a life with Scott. He died, yes, but he died living. He died happy.

He almost lived in season two. But he burned his bridges and died with betrayal. He was alone, but not lost.

He rebuilt with Tango, his server mates may have made fun of him, but he had one person. And that was all that mattered.

He lived on the edge with Grian and Joel. They pushed him, and he pushed back. They were a community.

He was not the only one who tried to live, but he has a lightness that comes with never taking anyone's final life. He never stopped others from living, that guilt never rested on his shoulders.

Sometimes a curse isn't just a curse.

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 36]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 36 - Grian and Scar meet Ren, and things come out that should have been discussed weeks ago. Scar is furious, and in every way it feels like he and Grian are back at square one. In the midst of yet another argument, Bdubs invites the two to come along on a walk.

📝 Words: 11,094

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 36 on AO3

—

They pause to check the area, Cleo scouring the ground for signs of tracks—human or otherwise. Bdubs, meanwhile, admires the winter foliage of the forest, pointing out a line of mushrooms growing out of a fallen log and saying they're seasonal.

It’s in the lull that Scar finally speaks.

“I suppose monogamists like me are gonna become a thing of the past,” he theorizes, and while his refusal to look at Grian stings, it at least makes his position abundantly clear.

“You might like the alternative,” Bdubs jokes with a smile, waggling his eyebrows in a way that has Scar chuckling and waving him off.

Grian tries not to let himself get too hung up over it. He knows it’s a joke. He knows Bdubs has his hands full with a husband and another partner right now. He’s not interested in Scar and, more importantly, Scar has made it clear he’s not interested in being with more than one person.

Still.

Sometimes it’s hard not to think about how easily Scar gets along with others. And how easily people have always been drawn to him.

It’s a stupid, self-flagellating thought, and Grian shakes his head to clear himself of it, biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything he’ll regret. No matter how angry Scar is with him right now, Grian’s promise to him hasn’t changed—he isn’t the person he used to be anymore. He’s making an effort to change and stay changed, and a little spark of misplaced jealousy won’t get in the way of that resolve.

“Come on, let’s keep going,” Cleo calls out, leading the group on the final leg of their patrol, choosing the path that heads back towards the lodge. “Keep up and behave yourselves and we’ll be back in time for lunch.”

[ read more ]

—

Between you and me, Ren's scene was one of my favourites to write in this entire fic. Poor Ren... you're so hot and sooooo burdened and sad. (Nothing else of note happens in this chapter, I'm sure Grian and Scar have nothing at all to argue about.)

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

[firequeenofficial]

Team Ranchers Week Day 1 - Hybrid Love and Courtship

Jimmy paced up and down inside the ranch house, wringing his hands together. He’d sworn to himself long ago that when he was ready, if that day ever came, he would do this. He’d sword to himself that when the right person came along, he’d make sure they knew. 

He had thought, once upon a time, that Scott was that person, but when he tried to tell him, the other man had just laughed and called him cute and hurried off to go see Grian. That was why he was hesitant to try again. 

What if Tango laughed at him, too? What if he didn’t feel the same? What if Jimmy had imagined all the looks and touches and fond smiles? What if, what if, what if… 

He’d lived his entire life caught up in what ifs. He wanted to stop, he wanted to be free. Tango helped with that. He was wild, and impulsive, and brave, and smart. Jimmy doubted he’d ever thought the words, “What if?” in his whole life. He wanted to be like that. He wanted to spend forever with Tango, learning to be more like him, learning to live like him. 

In the distance, a familiar, wonderful, laughing voice called out his name, and Jimmy straightened, steeling himself. He would do it now, before he could back out. He wouldn’t let the what ifs stop him. Not this time. 

*

Tango ran into the Ranch, feeling the weight of home settle over his shoulders like a warm blanket as he passed through the gate. Adrenaline was coursing through him, making him half-hysterical. He’d just barely survived an encounter with Joel and Etho, and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to be home, and alive. 

“Jimmy!” he called, laughter bubbling up, the thrill of the chase pulling his lips into a smile. “Jimmy, you here?” 

He skidded to a stop outside the ranch house, forcing himself to calm a little. Jimmy always worried so much, he didn’t want him to worry even more by appearing overly frantic. On the other hand, Joel and Etho might be out for his blood now - he was never sure with those two - and he knew Jimmy would want them to prepare for the Boat Boys to attack, just in case. 

After taking a calming breath, he pushed open the door to the ranch house and stepped inside. There was Jimmy, looking stressed as usual, and somehow managing to also look amazing even as he chewed on his lip and shifted his wings and fiddled with something between his fingers. 

“Hey, buddy,” Tango grinned. 

“Tango, where were you?” Jimmy demanded. “You were taking damage all over the place, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Tango assured him. “Just a little run in with Etho, no big deal.”

“No big deal?! What happened?” 

“Eh, I may have… borrowed some of their sugar cane.”

Jimmy looked like he might pop, though Tango got the distinct impression it wasn’t because of his recklessness. “Why? We have our own!”

Tango shrugged. “It’s funny watching Joel get riled up!” 

Jimmy sighed. It looked like he was trying to gather his nerves for something. 

Tango took the moment to add, “They may be a little upset with us now. You might want to keep your gua-”

“I need to talk to you,” Jimmy interrupted him, speaking very quickly. 

Tango’s smile faltered, but didn’t fall entirely. “Uh oh. What is it?”

“Or… well…” His Rancher hesitated. Took a deep breath. Twitched his wings. Pushed on. “I actually have something to give you.” 

He held out his hands, flat to show what was lying on them. A single yellow feather on a looped string. He licked his lips and gave Tango a look that made it very clear it was important to him that Tango liked it. 

So Tango beamed and took it. “That’s really cool! Is it one of yours?”

“Yes.” Jimmy was giving a lopsided, uncertain smile now that the gift was given. His wings had stopped twitching every second, and his hands had stilled. 

Tango laughed happily. “I love it!” And, even though he wasn’t exactly a jewellery guy, he pulled it down over his head so it hung around his neck, the feather resting against his heart. He took a second to admire it once more, this piece of his Rancher that he could keep with him forever, then looked back up at Jimmy and said, “Now, what do you want to do about Joel and Etho?”

*

Jimmy could feel himself deflating. Tango had laughed. He’d skimmed over it. He’d changed the subject. 

But he’d still put it on. He’d still held the feather like it contained the world. He’d still looked at it almost the same way he’d looked at their first diamond. 

Tango was still talking, rifling through their chests. “I think Etho will probably just laugh it off. He’ll accept they couldn’t catch me and move on. I don’t know about Joel though, I don’t know him that well.”

Jimmy made a distracted, noncommittal noise in his throat. 

“Well, you know him best, what do you think?” Tango pressed. 

Jimmy tried to force himself to focus. “Uhh, I guess he could go either way. Depends- depends on his mood, I guess.” 

Tango turned back to him, frowning. “Are you feeling alright, Jimmy?” When he straightened, Jimmy noticed he was fiddling with the feather, and it hit him. 

Relief bursting through his chest, he said, “You don’t know what it means for an avian to give something their feather, do you?”

Tango's face coloured, his hair burning a bit brighter. “Does it mean something?”

“It means-” Oh crap, now he had to explain. Jimmy could feel his own cheeks turning red to match his Ranchers’. “Uh. It’s a way to show…” He swallowed. This was a lot harder than he’d ever thought it would be. “It's the same as… as humans giving rings, I guess.” 

*

Tango knew his face matched Jimmy’s in its deep red. He knew his hair was burning so bright and strong they were at risk of losing their ranch house again. But he didn’t care. Because the words that Jimmy had just spoken…

“Did you just… propose to me?” Tango clarified. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that this funny, creative, caring ball of feathered stress could care enough about him for that. He couldn’t believe that he could ever get that lucky, that he could rest forever beside someone as amazing as Jimmy. 

“Um.” Jimmy’s wings took up their rustling again. “Yes?”

Tango just stared for a second, then his face broke into a grin. “In that case!” He walked over to Jimmy and wrapped his arms around him. Tango was a bit shorter than Jimmy, so he could easily rest his head on the other man’s shoulder, and Jimmy instinctively wrapped both his arms and his wings around Tango in return. Tango pulled back a little, just enough to look up into his Rancher’s face. “Yes.” 

Jimmy blinked, like he couldn’t really believe it. “Yes?”

Tango was beaming, happier than he could ever remember being. He lifted up onto his toes and kissed Jimmy, the first time he had ever dared to do that. Jimmy didn’t even hesitate before pulling him closer, kissing him back. When they pulled away, Tango rested his forehead against Jimmy’s and breathed softly, “Yes.”

He was pumped full of adrenaline again, but this time, there was no danger involved. This time, it was the thrill of a different chase setting him ablaze - no pun intended. As Tango’s hand closed again around the feather, this time knowing exactly its significance, he felt pure bliss settle over him. Maybe there was something to this death loop thing, after all.

[lavendernlilac]

It’s late at night when Scar finally finishes up his rounds during patrol. He stands on top of a building, the colors of his Hotguy suit bright under the shine of the moon. He takes a look around, finding the streets of his city safe and quiet. He hasn’t dealt with much tonight besides a robber or two; typical.

He takes a glance at the time through his HUD display, wincing. 5:45am. Well, it’s not six in the morning, so that’s some sort of improvement. He lets out a sigh, shoulders sagging low. “Time to call it a night for this hot guy.”

Turning around, Scar takes off, jumping along rooftops with the braces of his suit pushing him forward. The air is crisp and cool as the breeze moves through the loose strands of his hair. They’re slowly approaching autumn, a thought that makes him smile faintly. He heads in the direction of home, but it isn’t his own apartment. No, no, it belongs to his other half.

It takes him roughly forty five minutes to reach his destination, stopping at the roof of the building right next to the apartments in front of him. Scar takes a careful glance around, making sure that there aren’t any extra eyes watching him. At most he finds a stray cat sitting on the fire exit stairs right by someone’s stairs that he coos at. Other than the cat, the coast is clear. Nodding to himself, Scar jumps down, landing carefully on the fire escape right by the window he’s looking for.

He gives the window a small test, pushing up on it. To his relief the window is unlocked, and he slips right inside the apartment. He climbs through, booted feet landing silently on the floor. Making sure to lock the window behind him, Scar takes a breath. He surveys the bedroom he’s in, the last bits of the moon spilling in through the window to create a streak of light. It’s just enough to light up the sleeping person in front of him, and instantly Scar softens at the sight.

See, he has the wonderful privilege of not only being a bodyguard to famous pop star Ariana Griande, but her boyfriend as well. Not that anyone knows about that second bit.

Taking a moment to simply admire his lovely girlfriend, Scar smiles softly. Her blanket is pulled up to her shoulders, one of her hands lying on the pillow next to her head. Grian’s glasses have practically fallen off her face, tilted and just barely clinging to her ears. Her long curls are splayed across her pillow, a few stray strands fallen in her face. He has to keep himself from giggling at the bit of hair in her mouth. The moonlight frames her perfectly, giving her a near ethereal glow as she sleeps comfortably under the covers. Scar has never been so enamored with someone before, so incredibly sure that she’s the only one for him.

Seeing her so cozy has Scar yawning, and he figures he may as well join her. He pulls his boots and bracers off, striping himself of the external parts of his suit. He’s left with the bare bones of it, just the pants and shirt. His bow and quiver sit against the wall, innocuous. Although after some thought Scar pulls his shirt off as well. Before climbing into bed with Grian, he sets his visor on the nightstand. He also carefully takes Grian’s glasses off her face so that they don’t break in her sleep.

He knows how much she hates wearing contacts, she wears them enough as is when she performs as Griande.

Glasses safe, Scar tiptoes around the bed, deeming it safer to get in on the other side. Standing at the edge of the bed, Scar cringes as the springs creak right when his knee touches the mattress. He powers through it, hoping to avoid waking Grian. And he thinks he does a pretty good job of it!

Scar comfortably lays down on his side, facing Grian’s back. He scoots toward her, holding his breath as he ever so slowly wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest. He gets a hint of Grian’s strawberry scented shampoo and instantly relaxes, comfortable. This? This is the perfect way to end a quiet night of patrol. Scar sighs with content, pressing a kiss to Grian’s hair. He lets his eyes fall shut and—

“Well you’re here earlier than yesterday.”

He yelps at the sound of her voice, flinging himself back. “G-G-Grian!” he exclaims, startled. He sets a hand against his chest, feeling how his heart races. “Oh my gosh you scared me—how long have you been awake?!”

Grian laughs, the sound full of mischief and melody. “Would it make you feel better if I said you woke me up when you took my glasses off?” she asks. “I was already awake but I can pretend.”

Scar heaves a breath, shaking his head. “Of course you were awake as soon as I got in. You’re such a light sleeper.”

“Nah, I just sleep better when you’re here,” Grian sleepily answers, rolling over to face him. She greets him with a cheeky smile, and Scar can’t help but return it.

“Hi, beautiful.” He reaches for her once more, kissing her nose. Just like Grian, he sleeps a lot better with her in his arms.

Grian playfully rolls her eyes at him, affection soft in her expression. “Hi, handsome,” she returns. “Not hiding any injuries on me this time, are you?” She squints at him with suspicion through the darkness.

“No ma’am!” Scar denies. “Unless you count some little bruises, that is,” he amends after a moment, thinking about it. “Some robbers wanted to play tough rather than sitting still to wait for the cops. Not to worry though, they were no match for good ol’ Hotguy.” He grins at her, slipping his hand under the cotton shirt she wears. The act feels so natural, as he settles his palm against the middle of her back.

“Scar, your hand is cold!” Grian yelps as he touches her. “Out! You can touch me when you’re warm.” She frowns.

He looks at her with a small pout, “Oh Grian, you’d let me suffer with cold hands all by myself? After spending the night bravely fighting against evil?”

“Yes.” Grian doesn’t hesitate with her answer.

Scar ups the antics, pulling out the puppy dog eyes as he pleads with her. "You won't even warm me up?"

"You can put your hands under the blanket if you want them to be warm," Grian replies, refusing to give in.

"But Griaaaaan," he whines at her, looping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. "You're my favorite blanket."

"Scar!" Grian huffs at him, setting her hand against his chest. She sighs with fond exasperation, "of course you're not wearing a shirt."

Scar hums, nuzzling his cheek against her head. "I thought you liked seeing me shirtless?" he teases, pressing his cold palm further against her back. He grins as he feels her shudder in his grasp. "Gets you all weak in the knees."

"Oh my god, shut up and get under the covers before you start freezing." Grian moves back to let Scar pull the blankets up, giving him room.

Wasting no time, Scar joins her under the covers with a content sigh. He feels the warmth almost immediately, and Scar practically melts. "Oh sweet warmth, I could fall right asleep just like this," he hums. "Although, something is missing." Meeting Grian's eyes, Scar grins at her before reaching out, pulling his girlfriend right into his chest once more. And just to be extra mischievous, Scar slips his hand under her shirt again. Though, some of the effect is lost now that his hand is a bit warmer. "There we go. Now I'm all ready for bed."

Grian huffs lightly at him, tucking her head under his chin. He smiles as her arm wraps around him, scooting closer. "I'm glad you're not hurt," she mumbles to him. "Else I would've had Skizz track those guys down so I could give them a piece of my mind."

Scar laughs in return, the sound full of warmth as he runs his fingers through her hair. "I'm a superhero, sweetheart. It's a part of the job description."

"I don't care," Grian grumbles, pressing her lips against his chest.

His chest swells with affection, and Scar squeezes her in his arms. "Maybe I should start calling you Hotgirl then," he teases.

Grian pinches him, "Absolutely not, if you call me that I'll lock my window next time you want to sneak in late."

He laughs again, and god he loves this girl. He'd give her the whole world if she asked him to. He'd steal the sun right out of the sky just to gift it to her to see her smile if he could. Scar doesn't care what price he'd have to pay, he'd do anything to make Grian happy, to keep her happy for as long as he lives. He moves back, looking down at her. "I love you," he says, voice soft like honey, vibrant and thick and so painfully sweet.

She smiles at him, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. "I love you too." Grian pulls him down, pressing their lips together with soft intention. Scar melts into it with ease, like it's as natural as breathing; with Grian it is. There's nothing easier than being with her. He moves his lips against hers lightly, nipping at her bottom lip. Grian sighs quietly, one of her hands moving to tangle in his hair, pulling it out of the ponytail he keeps it in. Scar pulls her closer against him, pressing his lips a little harder against her.

Grian lets him move her, feeling him nudge his knee in between her legs. His thumb strokes her back lovingly as he nips at her lip once more, earning himself a pretty, yet muffled noise from her.

Yet before they can go any further, Grian pulls away, breathing heavy as she looks at him. Her hand remains in his hair, strands tangled around her fingers. "As much as I love where this is going, you've been out all night and haven't gotten any rest," she says.

Scar pouts, but doesn't argue against her. He is tired. He sighs dramatically, "I guess going to sleep would be better than staying up and having a good time with you."

Grian groans at the pun on his name, knocking her head against him. "You're insufferable. Go to sleep, Scar."

He chuckles at her reaction, bundling her up in his arms. "Alright, alright. Good night, my pretty bird."

"Good night, Scar," Grian sighs softly, setting her head right under his chin, embracing him. "...thank you for coming home in one piece."

Scar lets his eyes fall shut, tucking his face into her hair. "For you? Always."

[dmwrites]

Cecil: Birds of a feather stick together. But if that bird loses its way, it will be lost forever. Welcome… to NightVale.

[intro song plays]

Cecil: Listeners, today I have a guest with me here in the studio! Intern Vincent found our guest wandering in the desert as he was driving to the station this morning, and I jumped at the idea of having this guest on our show! So, why don’t you introduce yourself, mystery guest!

???: I’m… Grian. My name’s Grian.

Cecil: Well, welcome to our small community radio show, Grian! Listeners, Grian is-

Grian: Did you say listeners?

Cecil: Why yes! All of our wonderful citizens of NightVale, even the secret police, are listeners of my show!

Grian: Oh… never mind.

Cecil: As I was saying, listeners, our wonderful, if a tad interrupting-y, guest Grian is wearing a torn red sweater, black pants, and closed-toed shoes. I must say, that’s quite a fashion statement, Grian! Not too many people would wear a sweater in the desert. You must not be from around here!

Grian: I… no, I’m not. I’m not quite sure how I got here… I just… I thought I could escape the desert if I walked far enough.

Cecil: Well, as long as you’re not from Desert Bluffs, I’ll call you a friend! Eugh, Desert Bluffs, am I right? But speaking of Desert Bluffs, let me remind all of you that our half-a-millennia traditional triathlon against Desert Bluffs is almost upon us! Volunteers, taken from their homes at four in the morning with bags over their heads, will be competing in three sports events against our bitter rivals, Desert Bluffs. The three sports events, as is tradition, will be: bloodstone dodgeball, confronting the in-laws over broken boundaries, and pickleball. Good luck, NightVale athletes!

Grian: Did you just say, like, words? Like, genuinely, it feels like I just had a stroke. What on earth is a bloodstone?

Cecil: You know, I should have known you weren’t from around here, what with your funny accent. Where are you from, silly little man?

Grian: I… well, that’s a tough one, really. Hermitcraft? Third Life SMP? The Desert? All of them, I suppose. I really don’t know how I got here… I’m not sure this isn’t all a mirage.

Cecil: And you say I say strange things! Well, Grian, I was about to remark on how other cultures may not have bloodstones, but I just noticed all of the blood on your knuckles, and under your fingernails, and on the cuffs of your sweater, which I still do not think is seasonally appropriate.

Grian: Oh god. I thought I scrubbed it off with the sand. Scar…

Cecil: While we figure out the mysteries of the blood here in the studio, and Grian stares down at his hands in horror, let’s take a look at traffic. There is a man with a clock. He stands. He smiles. He will never stop smiling. They will call him a traitor someday, but for now, the traitor lies dead, the present he gave in the hands of that smiling man. They do not know that the clock, golden in its edges, will bind them together in ways they can’t even understand yet.

Grian: Scar is- Scar was my friend. I promised my life to him.

Cecil: I’ve promised my life to someone too! But it was marriage, to my beautiful Carlos. I love Carlos so much.

Grian: Scar… god, he was such a blundering fool, but with a heart and voice of gold. I didn’t think he’d get as far as he did, but we just kept getting away with it. We didn’t think about the end.

Cecil: What did this Scar wear? This is a audio medium, after all, Grian, and I must describe everything to the listeners.

Grian: He didn’t wear much, like, ever. Super annoying, too many abs.

Cecil: There is no such thing as too many abs, Grian.

Grian: I- sure, okay. Can I get back to my story now?

Cecil: Yes, please do! I am sure everyone, especially the secret police, are very interested.

Grian: I killed him with a creeper first. It was a prank, a mistake, but it really cemented the idea that this wasn’t all fun and games. It felt like fun and games for a long time, even after he died for the first time. It wasn’t until-

Cecil: And now, a word from our sponsor. Listeners, are you tired of having a perfect dog? Does your dog-food photo perfect dog leave you the laughing stock of the town? Do you ever wish you could put an imperfection on your dog so you could just fit in? Now you can, with warts! Just put warts on your precious pooch, and slide blissfully back into the dreary backdrop of life while walking them on their leashes. Dog Warts: because nothing can stay perfect forever.

Grian: I… I had to kill him. They- the ghosts of all of my friends, they told me there could only be one victor, and I… god… we stood in a circle of cactus, so we couldn’t leave, and we fought with our fists. I kept hitting him and hitting him and, god, Scar was never the best at fighting… and we were both laughing and I was crying and there was so much blood… it took so long for him to die, Cecil, and all I could do was keep hurting him, so he wouldn’t suffer. And then I was… alone. I said I was sorry, but he couldn’t hear me. No one could hear me anymore. I had won, but at what cost?

Cecil: That’s very dark! Uh, listeners, our guest Grian has a tear running down his cheek, and I am afraid he may burst into outright sobbing! To save you from that audio nightmare, I take you now to the weather!

[Howling by Lupus Nocte plays]

Cecil: Listeners, Grian is gone. He has left the station. He ran out, muttering something about “never being able to escape the desert”… whatever that means. Maybe we should stop inviting random people we find on the side of the deserted road with blood on their knuckles into the studio… but I am afraid that’s all the time we have for today, listeners. Stay tuned next for a canary, stuck in a cage made of bones, singing sadly for none to hear. NightVale, hug your loved ones close tonight. You never know what may happen next. And good night, NightVale, good night.

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

Xisuma may be the admin of the server. But he is definitely not the strongest on it.

TFC, the god of mining. Half of everything. He knows his way throughout caves. Server hopping may be a difficult, intense process for anyone else, but he can simply mine through world borders if he choses to.

Pearl and Grian, omnipresent gods. The first watchers. They have access to a council full of others like them. They are worshiped by every watcher to know of their existences. Thousands of eyes, watching it all.

Joe Hills. An enigma, but a powerful one. He speaks of a world much, much larger than the confines of minecraft. He knows what the world truly is. He knows the others know that he knows, too. He doesn't dare share these secrets.

Cleo. A mortal, but an unspeakably powerful one. The first to crawl her way out of hell, back into her body, back to consciousness. All out of sheer force of will. There are many myths that speak of her greatness. Few have followed in her footsteps, and even fewer succeeded. But anyone who has tried knows her story.

Doc. A man who pushes the boundaries of life and death for fun. He cackles at the mere concept of rules, knowing how to break them all on his own. In divine quickness, too.

If Xisuma ever tried to rule with an iron fist, if he ever got too cocky, he'll be reminded real quick who he has as his server mates.

The reason why Xisuma's so-called rule works, is that he never tries to use fear or power to control them. He doesn't really control them at all. Hermitcraft is a council of equals, of friends, no matter how much personal power someone has. Xisuma is just the one who stepped up to take on admin duties.

-Mod Mleem

[goldstargloww]

canary curse things. thinking about canary curse things

i'm hesitant to say the canary curse has been broken—what, no, of course it has been, jimmy died second instead of first, and the canary curse is all about dying first— okay hear me out i swear i make sense

my thought is that patterns can change. patterns aren't always static ones. just because something new happened this time around doesn't mean the pattern's been broken, it may have just changed its rules a bit.

joel had a pattern of having no true allies up until double or limited life, where it instead became a pattern of being isolated, for example

now, before we get into the canary curse specifically, let's talk about some other patterns

scott and martyn tend to drag themselves as well as their allies up the leaderboard. they both tend to outlive their allies. grian tends to kill his allies. ...i feel like i should put more here but that's all i can think of right now

now, the way i see it, is scott, martyn, and jimmy in particular all have some sort of weight to them. positive meaning they drag themselves and their allies up the leaderboard, negative meaning the opposite. scott and martyn have a positive weight, whereas jimmy has a negative one.

what i think's happened here is that martyn and jimmy's weights have tugged on each other, and as a result, martyn turned yellow and red first instead of much later on, and jimmy died second instead of first.

jimmy's pull is strong, i think, and so he tends to die first every time. just because he tends to die first every time doesn't make that a rule, though - it just makes it a pattern, one that's been broken. the pattern that hasn't been broken, though, is jimmy being one of the earliest to die, and jimmy dragging his allies down the leaderboard with him.

jimmy died first in 3rd life, and dragged scott down to 10th, and scott finally turned yellow right before jimmy died. jimmy died first in last life, and dragged mumbo down with him, and they were a similar color pretty much the whole time. jimmy died first in double life, and dragged tango down with him. jimmy died first in limited life, and joel died quickly after. jimmy died second in secret life, and dragged martyn's color down with him.

martyn, though, doesn't die yet, because of his positive weight. he's often tugged further up the leaderboard, and so while jimmy may drag his color down and martyn ends up first yellow and red, martyn still manages to stay afloat.

martyn is stubborn is the thing, lmao. he stays alive out of spite and just because he wants to, and so he does, and he makes sure he does. now that the stakes are higher and one wrong move could mean losing everything, he's being a lot more careful than he was earlier on.

and let me just reiterate for a second - he's stubborn. once he's got an idea, he's locked onto that idea until he gets it done or literally can't anymore. martyn will drive himself up the wall before he gives up on something and even then he'll need convincing or more likely a distraction. he didn't give up on ren in third life til he died and couldn't do anything anymore. he didn't give up on trying to kill scott in last life til he died and couldn't do anything anymore. he didn't give up on getting a diamond chestplate in secret life until he got it despite how much it cost him in the end. outside the life series, even, i'm rewatching rats right now- martyn will try to climb a wall over and over and over until he gets it or something gets in the way. he'll be texturing a model and complain to chat about how painful it is and still decide to spend the next hour and a half getting the damn thing done even though he should've logged off for bedtime 2 hours ago. (yes martyn i am calling you out, enjoy)

and so martyn doesn't die! he's yellow first, he's red first, and all other red names die, but martyn doesn't. because yeah, maybe he's impulsive, but he's in this for himself and himself alone and there's no way in hell he's dealing with a wither and a warden that's just killed three people. (he did try and steal the kill though. martyn do you remember what happened last time you tried to steal the kill, you fell into the void and died)

jimmy isn't as stubborn. jimmy's a lot more forgiving, a lot more lenient, and as much as he's being more aggressive this season, he's reckless about it and impulsive and his reputation isn't helping him here.

jimmy lets things happen to him. as upset as he might act about it, he never actually does anything about it, and it gets him killed. he's afraid to break the rules, he's afraid to make people uncomfortable or upset or hurt, he starts genuinely tearing up at the thought of pulling a bait and switch on skizz, and that's the kind of thing martyn does on a daily basis lmao

jimmy is forgiving and passive, martyn and scott don't forget so easily and aren't afraid to make people upset, grian's somewhere in between.

[infizero]

the way scar and pearl have been dancing around each other all season, from scar's task about hyping her up all session, to him calling her sunflower, to his opposite task forcing him to start hating on her, and them continuously not really knowing where they stand with each other. only for them to end up being the two of them against the world. pearl asking him to kill her (a role that was once his; "you may slay me" echoes in his ears - now he is the one looking down at the one kneeling in the water) and him refusing to, saying they will go out together.

their final duel ending with that decisive lightning strike, yet scar's so shocked he doesn't even realize what's happened. it's only when grian, who was once in his shoes, at the beginning of all of this, whispers "she's dead scar. you won" that he realizes he's somehow done it. the loneliness of a snowy mountain has ended differently this time. and it being grian of all people to make him realize. now he knows what it is like to be the winner. now he knows what it was like to be left in that empty world. how hollow victory seems to feel, in the end.

[shepscapades]

*rotates dbhc!Xisuma and Doc in my head*

I'm sorry but I absolutely lose my mind over them ( I have literally no one who I could ramble about this to and I need to get it out). I want to analyse stuff, so let me just:

*breathes in*

It's visible that they are good friends and have been since the time when Doc deviated, research partners doing... research? Or whatever researchers do *shrugs*.

But there's one thing to it, X created Doc and most of other androids. He understands what is deviation because Doc explained it to him but his friend is still an android after all. We also know that X always calls Doc "Docm" but in previous comic he calls him "Doc" and it is stated that it's the first time he ever called him that. In which moment he calls him that? In the moment when he realises that Doc is more human than android now, I may be delusional about this all but I just feel like: the moment when he sees Etho overpower Doc, shove him and break him and stuff, Xisuma sees that Doc isn't a fearless machine but a someone, a human, he got overpowered by Etho and suffered consequences, he felt fear like a human not a machine. Also he lost his arm because he was trying to stop Etho from hurting X as we see in the second part of the comic, which only adds to that. So, this is the moment where X fully realises that he means something to Doc, not as a creator, but as a friend, and that's why for the rest of the comic he constantly makes sure if his partner is alright by talking to him, glancing at him. You know stuff. He grew closer and closer to Doc as time passed and I think this was the climax - the moment he called Docm77 "Doc".

While Doc is doing the most stoic stuff ever and trying not to self destruct and stuff, he cares about X too, very much even, he's protective towards him and shows it by jumping into danger he could have avoided [ Etho attacked X because he's an admin and probably knows where's Grian - Etho wants to hunt down this pesky bird for killing Bdubs] just so his partner won't get hurt how sweet <3 RIP arm you will be remembered...

Anyways I feel like they should talk about stuff and maybe cuddle and maybe I don't know LIVE?? NOT DIE??

Yeah, I think that I don't even need to explain for how long they've been spinning in my head.

Also wanted to thank you so much for so many kind words on my fanart !! I'm glad I can make someone happy with my cheap, old drawing tablet and some self taught skills lol sorry for flooding your ask-box again so so sorry but those comics make me go AWOOGA holy shift, and also DOC AND X CONTENT !! They are so underrated that you almost can't find anything good relating to them as a duo! [personally I think they're great, just two dudes that do things together and care for eachother <3]

So, yep. Prepare yourself for things like that after every new part comes out I WILL make memes and I WILL analyse block men.... sorry not sorry :)

[how to get me into an AU- tutorial: Xisumavoid must be in it- the end]

WE ARE ROTATING THEM. WE ARE WATCHING THEM ROTATE!!!!! you freaking GET me

(THERE ARE SOME INTERESTING THOUGHTS HAPPENING HERE!!!! None of which I’ll confirm but Eye Emoji :3 I love love love these theories they make me so happy ehehehehehe)

(ALSO YOU’RE SO WELCOME!!! That art made my day fr LMAO I love and appreciate it so much!!! <3)

[stellocchia]

Thinking of Secret Life SMP hybrid headcanons right now...

Grian would be a parrotlet. They're the smallest group of parrots and I feel like with how pathetic he's been this season he deserves to be just a little guy. He's still a pesky bird who, as season 6 proved, can definitely cause some mischief despite his reduced size, but he's a little guy anyway.

Jimmy is not a canary. Because, yes, he may have the canary curse, but that's just a fancy name for the curse, not necessarily his hybrid type. No, my man is a dog. He's a goddamn chihuahua. He's all bark and annoying but you take a single threatening step toward him and he shivers in fear.

On the topic of dogs, Martyn is a pomeranian. I'm specifically making him a small dog too because, despite wanting to act cool at the end of session 6, he is still very much the one who was first on yellow and red. My man is not big dog-coded.

Now, unpopular opinion, but Scar is a raccoon hybrid. He's a mischievous chaotic menace of a man. A little criminal ready to scam, commit arson, kill, and steal. He's a raccoon. He hasn't burrowed under anyone's house yet (that I remember at least) but that wouldn't be out of character either. Honestly, I'm appalled by the fact that this isn't a far more popular headcanon for him.

And, before I move on from dogs, Etho is also dog-coded. Specifically an Akbash (big white golden retriever-looking fuckers used for the protection of livestock). I just feel like the protectiveness and overall vibe fit him very well.

Finally, moving on from dogs. Cleo is obviously a zombie hybrid. There are no two ways around it. Though this does allow for my little headcanon that, having to learn on their own skin how to sew they became really good and really quick and they're the ones making all the new outfits for everyone else.

Gem meanwhile is specifically a sculk hybrid. Though I like to think that that came about when she opened the portal. She was a deer hybrid before (mostly because I like the subversion of expectations with a "prey" hybrid so to speak being arguably the most bloodthirsty person on the server) and then it spread like an infection. I figure by now her infected half straight-up looks something like Belos monster for from TOH:

Scott is something like a Reakirt’s Blue Butterfly. Both because the colors match him, and because he is kinda The Social Butterfly. My man is always out and about mingling with others. He's so friendly that he literally didn't struggle to pull off the "love you" challenge when everyone admitted that no one else would have been able to. It would be a waste not to make him some kind of butterfly at least.

Now, for Impulse I have something less reasoned, I just think the idea of him being an imp called Impulse is way too funny to resist. And he is way more of a mischievous one than I usually see people talk about. I've seen the phasmophobia stream where he killed everyone with the cursed items several times in a row just because he wanted to try them out. I know what he's capable of.

Meawhile his bestie Skizz is so capibara coded it's unreal. Like, don't get me wrong, he's plenty chaotic. But also you will never find anyone more lawful good in the Life Series than him. I've been thinking this since Love Island was founded. My man is the king of chilling with everyone. (Aside from Jimmy, rip Jimmy).

At the risk of being boring, I also like seeing Tango as a salamander hybrid. Exclusively because of the mythological connection between salamanders and fire. Also, the idea that every time he's flying (though it's funnier if it's also when he's simply jumping) he's nothing but a ball of fire with a lizard tail is very funny to me.

BigB is a hard one because I've only watched a couple of episodes from his POV so I'm not quite as familiar with the lore surrounding him as I am with the others. So I'm not sure. I want to say enderman because of his cryptid vibes this season, but he's not one of the characters with the biggest connection to the end. Those are mostly BDubs, Gem, and Lizzie, so I don't know. I'm open to suggestions.

Talking about BDubs, why are there no ender dragon hybrid headcanons for him around? I think it would be incredibly ironic if the dragon slayer was a dragon himself. Also, his house is under the Earth just like the End portals. Trust me, it makes so much sense. He's small but so full of righteous anger.

Pearl is no hybrid, she's literally just a witch. I've seen the WITCH animatic and that fundamentally changed my view of her forever. Before I would have said a moth hybrid of some kind because I do like moth Pearl, but I love that specific interpretation so much it's unreal. She is a witch with an army of hellhounds at her back and call.

Mumbo is a vampire because I've seen some art of vampire Mumbo at some point in time and it hasn't left my head since. Also, he's one of the players with the highest bloodlust every time he turns red. We're 2 for 2 on that with his appearances in the Life series. And it's usually also what leads to his demise. So I feel like that would be fitting for a vampire.

Meanwhile, my dearly beloved blorbo Joel is a honey-badger. This is a headcanon that is incredibly dear to me and I've never seen around but it's literally SO FITTING. The absolute crackhead energy, the lack of self-preservation, and the surprising sturdiness as time and time again he gets himself in impossible situations and still manages to survive until pretty much the end are all that exact honey-badger vibe. Like, just thinking of him summoning a hoard of zombies to fight off several infected and surviving for quite a while in those conditions just, really proves my point. Enough said.

Lizzie meanwhile is a very sad sopping wet cat. Just absolutely miserable. One of those cats who look like they're constantly grumpy. The frown has deepened ever since no one came to her party and she's still frowning in the void of death.

[frozenjokes]

The Reasonable Next Step (Cannibalism)

Cub did not understand. Never for a second did he think he was wrong, nor did he doubt himself now, but if he wasn’t wrong (which he wasn’t), then why did Mumbo say no?

It did not make sense. (and his feelings were a little bit hurt) It did not make sense.

Mumbo had always been a bit of an oddity, and Cub used to attribute this to the fact that he was just so.. normal? Mumbo was jumpy, yes, he’d always been on the edgier side, but other than that, he was just human, just doing his own thing, standing out only because of how painfully ordinary he was minus perhaps the height and the gaunt figure.

Cub wondered if Mumbo had looked more haggard lately, in the past few years maybe, or if that was just his mind playing tricks on him. Those eyebags, whew. Cub had truly never seen anyone get so little sleep.

But Mumbo was not normal. Mumbo was not even the slightest bit ordinary, however Cub had only started noticing in season eight.

Maybe that’s when Mumbo started losing his grip, Cub didn’t know, but two events over the course of those months stood out to him as particularly insane, those being the stealing of Grian’s soul and the sacrifice of Bdubs to ‘appease the moon,’ which was a perfectly on brand thing for Scar to do, but Mumbo? ‘Peace, love, and plants’ Mumbo?

That’s what had gotten Cub’s attention in the first place actually; Mumbo had always been famously uncomfortable around blood and gore, uninterested in murder on a good day, even as part of a game, but he had seemed particularly unwell then, not only because he was so damn skinny that a small gust of wind could’ve knocked him clean over, but the insistence on only eating certain foods, bordering on not eating at all; it had worried Cub, to be frank. He and Mumbo were never close, but he remembered stopping by once or twice to check in, and generally hanging around to make sure he was okay. Mumbo always insisted he was just fine. And then Cub heard he threw Grian into a meat grinder and was a tad more concerned.

Technically Mumbo had not been the one to put Grian into his killing machine, but he may as well have been, tricking Grian into signing a contract than leading him to his own gratuitously violent death- Now all of this Cub heard from Scar, so perhaps there was a bit of hyperbole going on, but Cub had checked out the machine, and even compared to Cub’s own violent history it looked.. intense.

Maybe not intense coming from some other hermits, but out of pocket from Mumbo.

Now, with the moon growing large and crashing into the server, it was safe to say everyone was a tiny bit off their rocker, but Mumbo didn’t sleep well on a normal day, so Cub wasn’t sure he believed the whole idea of the Boatem Mooners as they were called, making a pact not to sleep, which, inevitably, drove the whole lot of them off the deep end. But Mumbo lived like that normally; Cub couldn’t recall more than two times he’d actually seen Mumbo asleep over a period of years, and in his passive observation, it felt like something was off about Mumbo’s behavior in the Mooner cult. It felt.. like an excuse. And maybe that was just a hunch, it’s not like Cub had any real evidence, but participating in a ritual sacrifice seemed severely unlike Mumbo, even if he only hauled Bdubs up to the pyre in the first place and Scar was the one who set the flame.

Cub didn’t care of course. What Mumbo did with his time was his own business, and Cub certainly wasn’t judgemental but.. well, he was interested. It was like your reliable average joe experiences a short burst of pure unbridled mania, then goes back to normal the next day pretending none of it happened. Cub just had a feeling there was more there, more to him, and god if he didn’t want to know what it was.

He considered stalking to be a strong word. What he did was not stalking.

However, if Mumbo was around, or Cub caught a passing glance of him sneaking off by himself, he may have followed, never revealing his presence. And that- in the back half of season eight and the start of season nine. Cub had seen some things. He had certainly seen some things.

Now, Cub was no stranger to rituals. In general vex and their counterparts were ritualistic creatures, drawn to performance and sacrifice and dance. He was always drawn to violence, as was Scar, and they had shared more than a couple vile displays of lust and brutality. It was indulgence, it was a show, and in truth, the only reason the sacrifice of animals was not a more common occurrence is because Scar shied away from it, preferring to use their own flesh and blood. It did not bother Cub either way. If the treatment of animals was among his top concerns, he’d have quite a few issues with some of the other inhabitants of the server.

All of this preface to say that the things Cub witnessed Mumbo doing to animals was enough to make him think that pigs and chickens had orphaned him, stolen all his most precious possessions, burned down his childhood home, then ate all his children and cursed his bloodline, because seriously, what the hell?

Cub was not someone who was easily disturbed, but watching Mumbo set animals from various farms loose, chase and maim them for literal hours (sometimes whole nights) leave them with horrific injuries, then only when they couldn’t stand to run any longer, eat them alive- It was a deeply fascinating, deeply unnerving display, coupled by.. whatever the fuck Mumbo was. It sure as hell wasn’t human, something Cub was relieved to figure out quickly.

Mumbo was tall, but even then, he was too fast. There were moments when parts of him were too long, a leg or fingers, and sometimes too sharp- From a distance, Cub didn’t know how Mumbo was inflicting such brutal lacerations, and even with a spyglass, Cub couldn’t quite tell, but he had to be changing, his body had to be adapting to his physical needs. Mumbo was too strong as well; this was something Cub had witnessed in places other than remote locations thousands of blocks from spawn, but it was true! No one that skinny, bordering on emaciated, had enough muscle to sustain activities like this, much less break bones with a snap of a hand and restrain terrified animals twice his size.

All of this was inhuman, however, most of these things could also be explained away as tricks of the light, or misunderstandings of human anatomy. Unlikely, yes, but possible.

Cub really knew when he saw Mumbo eat for the first time.

And when he said the first time, he meant the first time; even when Mumbo had made eating potatoes his whole identity, Cub had never actually seen him eat anything. When he asked Scar before this whole ordeal, the thought had never occurred to Scar before, but when he asked Grian, he had only told Cub that Mumbo was private with his meals, too anxious to eat in front of others. Honestly, Cub had thought Mumbo had some kind of eating disorder. Given the state of him, it wasn’t a poor assumption, and Cub got the sense Grian felt similarly, though he wouldn’t give any more information other than ‘Mumbo is anxious,’ stubbornly close-lipped. Cub got the sense Grian knew a little more than he was letting on, and given how nosy he was, Cub found himself wondering if Grian had seen Mumbo eat before, really eat.

After pressing, majorly pissing Grian off in the process, Cub was a little more sure, though, Grian getting pissed off could just as easily be a symptom of Cub being an asshole and nothing more. Sometimes Cub didn’t know when to stop, but Scar had a pretty good system of letting him know. (“Cub, you’re being an asshole.” to which he would respond “Oh, okay.” For some reason people avoided telling Cub to shut the fuck up even when they really wanted to, but it would make his life a lot easier if they did.)

But yes, it was quite clear that Mumbo was not human when the hunt was over and he finally started to eat.

Mumbo didn’t.. Cub wasn’t exactly sure if he chewed, rather than just.. swallowing. A lot. Too much at a time. Mumbo’s body seemed to accommodate him more than a human body ever should- he had teeth, Cub knew he had teeth, but it seemed instead he preferred to eat as much as he could whole.

Snakes could unhinge their jaws, striking, then positioning their prey so they could eat it head first, killing it faster, reducing the chance they may get scratched or bit.

Mumbo did not do this. Perhaps he did unhinge his jaw, but a human mouth, even broken in every sense of the word, could not possible take as much as Mumbo did at once, his body distorting and bubbling in ways that couldn’t be anything less than painful, bones and muscles rearranging, skin stretching, it was horrible, but Mumbo didn’t even take his prey head first.

It made no sense. Why would he start at the back, where he could be kicked, scratched, where it was easier for whatever he was consuming to bend over and bite him, hurt him. Is that why he tired his prey out so completely? Waited until they were completely exhausted? But even then, they still fought. Nothing being eaten alive like this could simply let it happen, the will to live was too strong, regardless of the inevitable hopelessness.

Cub wondered if Mumbo wanted to be hurt. If Mumbo thought he should be hurt by kicking feet and flailing jaws, larger animals struggling so fiercely that they would snap his entire face out of shape, a sight so particularly horrific, Cub found himself flinching, though he never looked away. Mumbo seemed like the type of person that wanted to punish himself, not that Cub knew him particularly well, but he was so weird, so oddly puritan when it came to standards set for himself, it made sense.

Or maybe he just wanted them to struggle. He wanted them to live longer, draw out suffering, just as he’d been doing for hours prior. Mumbo never flinched, even when he’d been bit or scratched particularly badly. Cub never saw blood or injury. And he was looking for it. He was watching closely. That first night, he slept just as little as Mumbo did, though both of them seemed not to need it.

Cub didn’t think he’d sleep ever again. He had to know more.

But Cub was a busy man, he had his own projects to work on, and he didn’t make a habit of following Mumbo around, but he did keep tabs. He was curious, but that curiosity started shifting to concern, especially after the switch from season eight to season nine.

Mumbo was visibly deteriorating, those lonely acts of violence feeling a lot more like desperation than real cruelty. Maybe it had always been desperate. Or maybe Cub was mistaken. He was not the best at reading other people.

But you didn’t have to be good at reading people to know that Mumbo was losing his grip. Mumbo was jumpy on a good day, but after the first weeks of season nine, he didn’t react to anything at all. He hardly even looked up when Grian approached him, trying his best to cheer Mumbo up, which Cub knew because Grian told Scar, and Scar could never help himself but tell Cub, just as Cub could never help but keep anything from Scar.

Scar knew about Mumbo the morning after Cub witnessed the hunt on the first night, Cub not even sleeping before he shook Scar awake at 7:00 AM, relaying everything he’d seen. Bafflingly, Scar could not have given less of a fuck.

“I knew something was wrong with him,” he’d said, mildly amused, and then closed his eyes, settling down to go back to sleep. Cub did not understand. It just did not make any sense that Scar did not care because this was one of the wildest things Cub had ever witnessed. He had so many questions! How could Scar not have any questions? Why did Mumbo keep this a secret? What was the point of drawing out his hunts? What was Mumbo? He had teeth, why didn’t he use them?

“Cub.” Scar said stiffly, eyelids fighting against Cub’s claws as he tried to pry them back open and make Scar listen, “You’re being an asshole.”

Scar still had no interest in answering any of the questions that kept Cub awake at night, but he did humor Cub when he theorized for hours, trailing Scar while he worked on his base, landscaping, was stuck sick in bed- Cub was more anxious when Scar was sick, worried he was boring him with chatter he knew Scar cared little about, but Scar insisted otherwise, engaging far more than he ever did when he had something else to do. Alien. Alien. Mumbo’s an alien. Alien. He’s an alien. He’s from the void. He’s an alien. Scar’s theories were not often rooted in sense, but it was fun to listen to him regardless.

But Scar cared in season nine. He cared because anyone close to Mumbo could see how poorly he was doing, and Scar would do anything to ease that pain. Cub would have approached Mumbo himself, asked about his excursions directly, but Scar had insisted that was the wrong way to go about it, not when Mumbo was so frail and already so depressed. Mumbo would accept help easier from someone closer to him, and Scar knew how to be subtle.

Scar came back to their shared tree home later that day wearing a grimace and a hand stuck permanently running through his hair.

“It, uh.. I may not have handled that as well as I could have. He may be upset. I dunno.. I didn’t think it was that bad, but Grian really chewed me out when it was just the two of us.”

“What happened? What did you say?” Cub’s tone may have been too harsh, a bad habit he struggled to shake when he was so invested. “I’m sorry-“ he snuck the words through when Scar winced, speaking before he could, “I don’t think you’ve done anything, I just want to know what happened.”

“I know,” Scar said, and Cub knew he did, no one knew him as wholly as Scar did, but Cub knew him in the same way, and knew he was sensitive after plans turned sour. Regardless, Scar continued, “So I meet up with Mumbo and Grian, right? We were just hanging out, talking about blueprints, nothing too crazy, but I wanted us all to get together anyway, since Mumbo’s been so down. He’s always a little more relaxed when Grian’s around, I don’t know what it is about those two, they’re like each other’s emotional support cats.”

“That’s true,” Cub nodded, trying to engage but antsy in the fluff of Scar’s story.

“So I bring us all together, you know how it is, and I suggest we have a little party, the three of us! None of us really have any birthdays coming up, but in my mind we can’t really afford to wait, so I suggested we do one now! Grian was teasing me, saying something like ‘Is it really a party if there’s only three of us?’ But I think so, and I said I think we could all use a bit of a pick me up, and Mumbo agreed with me, he said he thought it was a good idea! So I went on, I said we needed to have a themed party, because unthemed parties are no good, just as joyless as an unthemed amusement park, not awful, better than nothing maybe, but come on! You have to have a theme!”

“You have to have a theme,” Cub agreed, solemnly serious.

“So I told them it should be cannibalism themed!” Scar threw up his arms grandly, just like he’d probably done for Mumbo and Grian, but here the gesture was more frustrated, “And I didn’t want to get shut down right away, so I just kept talking about the details; maybe we could hire another hermit to be our lamb, y’know? Or we could just take turns with each other, or even just drain some blood, y’know, throw it around- and this, I still think this is genius- we could put blood in water guns and shoot each other with it! Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

“Gruesome,” Cub said, not disagreeing, but more amused than anything.

“Maybe a little bit,” Scar snickered, good natured, but he straightened, looking awkward, “But uh.. Mumbo did not like that idea. I could see him not liking it, so I kind of panicked y’know? Anyone would! So I just kept talking, hoping I could convince him before Grian bit my head off, but Grian was trying really hard to do that, and I just kept interrupting him, kept talking, and I know Mumbo isn’t squeamish, he can’t be given everything you’ve told me, but you would have thought it, and in fairness, I may have gone a little too far..” Scar slowed down, shrinking in on himself in his guilt, “I just want him to feel better. He was so- so distressed. I just want him to feel better. He- he fell when he was trying to get away from me. I wasn’t keeping him anywhere, but he was just so upset he fell and.. I don’t know. He’s just so frail. I wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get up again.” Scar rubbed the back of his neck. “He did. I mean, of course he did. He didn’t even have any trouble. He didn’t stumble. He just looks that way.”

Cub nodded slowly, sympathetic. A small silence lingered as Cub thought, opening his eyes when he was done. “I think a cannibalism party is a great idea. We should gather up a bunch of hermits and airdrop the lot of us in the woods with Ren on the full moon. He wins if he kills all of us by the morning.” Cub paused, “Well, maybe that’s not really a cannibalism party. Tangential cannibalism party.”

Scar snorted, mood ever so slightly lifting, “I think that’s fantastic. Better than my idea.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Scar shrugged, “I think your mind is beautiful.”

Cub wasn’t sure what to do with that, quietly flustered, but he must have made some kind of face because Scar laughed, wrapping Cub in a tight hug that made him squeak, shaking him in the same way a dog might shake a chew toy, though less violent given they were sitting down, just an expression of Scar’s restless energy. Cub was no good at comfort, they both knew this about him, but somehow Scar managed to find it anyway, wrestling it out of him when Cub couldn’t dig it up himself.

He did not think about Mumbo for a little while, resting instead with Scar, listening to him mumble rambled nonsense for the next thirty minutes until he fell asleep.

Cub did not interact much with Mumbo in the following weeks, not wanting to push when he was clearly so sensitive (and the two of them weren’t much more than strangers), but from what he heard from Scar, things weren’t getting any better. Grian was doing his damned best effort to cheer Mumbo up in his own way, Mumbo creating a vault for Grian to ‘break in to,’ and Cub heard from Scar that Mumbo sat out there for hours watching Grian (literally) bash his head against a wall, so at least Mumbo wasn’t alone.

And then Mumbo announced he was leaving. That he didn’t know for how long, or even where he was going, but that he just needed a break, he needed to go. Burnt out, was the reason he gave. He was burnt out. Anyone with eyes could see through the lie, and Cub wondered how many hermits were noticing for the first time just how bad of shape Mumbo was in. But no one said anything. No one stopped him. And if anyone had more in depth concerns, they weren’t brought up to the group as a whole, kept between whispers and close friends.

But Mumbo said he would be back. The words left him grimly, almost as if against his will, but he was firm, certain. A tone that said his return would not be a good thing, but it was inevitable, and he was resigned to the knowledge of that future.

So easily it could have been mistaken for apathy. For sadness that he was leaving behind friends, that it would be awhile before he saw everyone again. But Cub saw through. He wondered if Scar did too, Grian, maybe Iskall.

Cub thought Mumbo might have looked at him then, seconds before his departure. Their eyes met, and for a long moment Cub was sure Mumbo saw something in his; knowledge, intent. And then Mumbo looked away, and the moment passed. And then Mumbo was gone.

“You look like you’re seconds away from killing someone, you okay?” Tango elbowed him, and the gesture was playful, but all the same there was that underlying concern, the kind that told Cub plainly that Tango was telling the truth.

Whoops.

It was possible Mumbo was staring at him because Cub looked like he wanted him dead.

“I’m alright,” Cub shrugged, and he was, “Just sad to see him go. Don’t like losing anyone, you know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Tango mused, shaking Cub’s shoulder in a gentle gesture of encouragement, “But he’ll be back. Honestly, I bet he won’t be more than a month, he just needs some space to get those creative juices back in action. Can’t imagine him functioning without Grian at his hip for much longer than that,” Tango laughed, and Cub joined him, though the chuckle was somewhat joyless.

Mumbo was gone for a hell of a lot longer than one month. Nine months actually, he was gone, to the point where most hermits were pretty worried, some wondering if he was really returning at all (thoughts never expressed when Grian was around).

But Mumbo did come back. And when he did, he looked great. Truly great, Cub couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Mumbo looking so genuinely healthy and happy; still skinny as a stick, but more filled out, less gaunt. He looked strong, and even his eye bags had lightened a little, though whatever he’d been doing, it clearly hadn’t fixed his insomnia; that being an observation Scar said to him in jest.

But it was good. It was good.

Honestly, Cub had expected his mild obsession with Mumbo to flare up again the second he stepped foot back on the server, but almost the opposite happened, where everything Cub had previously felt; the curiosity, the intrigue.. it all simmered down. Mumbo was healthy, he was high energy, and Cub found that he didn’t care all that much what was going on with him so long as he stayed that way. He’d had nine months to burn himself out on theorizing anyway, he’d moved on to other interests.

But Mumbo did not stay healthy.

Cub was too busy on the back end of season nine to notice, not keeping tabs on Mumbo hardly at all by then, but at the start of season ten, when everyone was together, Cub saw it right away.

The difference between the Mumbo returning home from his break and the Mumbo at the start of season ten was stark, at least to Cub, since no one else seemed to notice, or at least didn’t say so. It wasn’t like Mumbo was deteriorating as severely as he had been before traveling, but Cub was sure he had lost weight, and something was just wrong; maybe he was a little too neurotic, a little too snappy. It was almost nothing! Hardly noticeable, honestly, to the point Cub thought he might be going crazy, but really. What would happen if the problem escalated to the point of season nine, Mumbo so miserable that just the mere suggestion of violence was enough to do him in completely. Whatever Mumbo was doing now, it wasn’t sustainable!

Cub waited a couple months, partially to see what would happen, but admittedly, he wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of confronting him directly. He didn’t want to tell Scar this time, he wanted to do this himself, but working up the nerve was a beast within itself.

But it was fine. It was going to be fine, because Mumbo had literally no reason to say no. If Mumbo needed to eat, however convoluted the way he had to do it, he should just do it, and Cub became so convinced of this that he was certain Mumbo would see it too. So he approached him, not accusatory of course, not even questioning Mumbo’s thinly veiled humanity, but simply giving him an out. Scar would be more than thrilled to have Mumbo drag him around by his innards or whatever the fuck Mumbo would come up with. He would not say no.

(He said no.)

This was going to be a tough case. Cub really hadn’t anticipated this going wrong in any way, because put simply, it made no sense for Mumbo to refuse, but regardless, this was fine because Cub was not going to give up. He would not let this get as bad as it had before. He’d go for a more subtle approach instead, and not the Scar kind of subtle either, real subtle, not even mention eating people at all. Cub was going to make this work.

He was going to seduce Mumbo.