#but also pearl ISN'T the moon. the moon is actually just the embodiment of everything about herself she doesn't want to be.

[teapot-of-tyrahn]

Mumpearl Drabble please :3?

His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo.

PearlescentMoon has gone by many names: Peril. Farmer Queen. Santa Perla. Madre de Girasoles. The Great Lunar Neighbour. Even Moonatrix Octa. She was no stranger to deification. She'd been worshipped by a wide variety of people. By her own Helianthias, by the Harengons of Sanctuary, by Jeremys of Stratos: and, now, even by The Order of Octa. And yet, out of all these followings, out of all these flocks of religions, cults and sects dedicated to her image… there was only one she was interested in. The Mooners. Or, rather, its founder. And his name was Mumbo Jumbo. She had to admit, it was odd. She’d been worshipped by countless mortals throughout history, but this wasn't just another mindless devotee, no, before that, he had been someone she'd known; somebody she'd loved. A friend. Before he had been a Mooner he had been apart of Boatem. He still was. It was surreal to see the same man she'd laughed with, the same man who had teased her and taught her what it was like to love and be loved and be human… worship the very thing about her that wasn't. Worship the idea of her, worship the concept of a omnipotent, despotic rock in the sky, worship everything about herself she hated. She had hated being a goddess. That's why she had come to Hermitcraft in the first place. She was sick of being treated as a stagnant notion - something simultaneously too abstract to comprehend and yet something superficial enough to be classified by one word: perfect. She wasn't a person, just an idea. A deity. But Mumbo Jumbo had taught her how to be a person. No… he'd been the one who had made her a person. Or maybe he had just showed her that she had always been one. He made her laugh. Cry. Love. Hate. Learn. Live. Experience. He taught her how to feel, want, explore, be… he had showed her the wonders of this world, shown her that everything alive was sacred and unkillable, that this planet was alive and thus beautiful. He had made her fall in love with the dull world that she had grown to loathe over the centuries all over again. He had made her fall in love with him. And so, watching him fall in love, not with her — not with the genuine, real version of herself she'd become — but with postulated perception of herself she'd been trying so hard to unbecome? The dehumanized idea of what she was supposed to be? The version of herself he'd unwittingly taught her she wasn't defined by? It felt like death. It felt like she was dying. Was this heartache? Could somebody who never had a heart have it break? Pearl loved Mumbo. But Mumbo only loved the Moon. Not Pearlescent.

The moon had two faces; one of which was always hidden from sight. One face could never be seen the human eye. No matter how much they tried, no matter what they used — whether it be telescopes, binoculars, spectrometers, or observation stations… nobody could ever see the far side of the moon. Nobody could ever see her in full display. Only in facets; fragments. In some ways, Pearl resented this fact. Nobody could ever know her; not truly. Nobody could never know her in her entirety. What would happen if they knew the new Australian Hermit wasn't from Australia at all, but from the moon, anyway? No, actually, she wasn't from the moon, she was the moon. She was just the actual, literal moon. That big 'ol floating rock in the sky? The one rapidly plummeting towards their planet on a path set to destruction? Yeah, that was her. Well, not exactly her, but her divine shell, which missed its' goddess after she had taken mortal form so much it was trying to reunite with her by colliding with Hermitcraft… Oopsie-daisy, yeah, my bad, sorry about the impending doom! On the slim chance they didn't immediately kick her off the server due to her very presence being a threat not only to everyone but the world itself's safety, what would they think of her, then? If the fact half of the Hermit's first instincts were to start cults around The Moon in response to its enlargement was any indication, something told her they wouldn't treat her like a regular Hermit anymore. They'd start treating her exactly like what she'd come here to get away from: a goddess. She wouldn't be Pearl anymore. She wouldn't have friends anymore. Just followers. She hated that sometimes she considered it. Oh, how easy it would be, to tell Mumbo she was the Great Lunar Neighbour he loved so much. That she was who he'd been unknowingly worshipping this entire time; she was his goddess. Her feelings for him would be reciprocated in a heartbeat. He'd love her in the same way she loved him; endlessly and entirely. …But he wouldn't. Not really. He wouldn't love her. He'd love the idealized idea of her he thought she was, this version of her he'd made up in his head. And even saying he'd love her would be a stretch… no, he wouldn't love her. He'd revere her, worship her, exalt her… but not love. Not in the ways mortals loved each other. He wouldn't love her for who she was, but for what she was. And, so, she wouldn't tell him. Because as long as he didn't know, there was still a chance he could love her; the actual her. She just had to be patient. Though it was times like this her patience really ran thin.

"I don't understand," Mumbo sobbed; the sound was hoarse, gravelly and guttural. He hadn't slept in… nobody knew how long, and the hysteric delirium of sleep-deprivation seemed to finally be catching up with him. "I — I did… I did everything right! I'm doing everything right, I don't — I don't understand what I did wrong. What am I doing wrong?" He cried. "Shh, shh… you're not doing anything wrong, Mumbs. You didn't do anything wrong. You're perfect. You've done everything perfect," Pearl consoled him, running her fingertips' through his hair in an assuaging manner, trying to coax him to calmness in the same way somebody might try to coax a crying infant back to sleep in the late hours of the night… which, was what she was doing, really, in a sense. His locks were unkempt, disheveled and sloven, bedraggled despite the fact he hadn't touched a bed for weeks. But even in his grotty state, to her, he was still gorgeous. He was still perfect. "Then why is she still mad? I — I made her a temple, I made her altars, I built her shrines, and — and — and — I even convinced Boatem to give up their beds! I even —  I don't understand… I thought — I thought that would fix it… I thought that would make her happy, but she's still — is it not enough? Am I not doing enough..?" Mumbo sniffled as he looked at her with hollow, sunken eyes, a strange mixture of devotion and desperation on his face. His eyebags were so heavy they weighed down his cheeks' like an anchor, an anvil. "Can't she tell I love her? I — I just want to make her happy. I just want her to know — I — I just… I just want her to know how much I love her." Pearl's heart ached. I know. "She knows," she whispered, trying to keep her voice from hitching, trying to control her pitch. "She knows you love her. She… she loves you too. So, so much." I love you too. I love you so, so much. "No," Mumbo shook his head with a strangled snuffle, dismissing her words as nothing but empty consolations. He didn't know how true they really were, he didn't know they weren't just a friend's weak attempt to lift his spirits, but that they were a love confession from the very God he had devoted his entire being too. That she really did love him, too, more than he could possibly fathom. "If — if she loved me, she… she wouldn't still be upset. If she knew how much I loved her, she wouldn't be — she wouldn't still be causing earthquakes and stealing blocks, and — I just, I need — I need to try harder. I need to show her, I need her to know, I need her to see…" No, you just need to see. You just need to see it's me. I'm right here - why can't you see? I'm not mad. I was never mad. I could never be mad at you. I love you. Please, please, please… stop. I don't want this. I'd never want you to do this to yourself. But he never listened. He would never listen to Pearl; and the one voice he would listen to was one she couldn't admit was her own. It was infuriating… He loved her so, so much, too much, and yet he didn't love her at all. He could never love her while he still loved who she had been. Who had to be. He could never love her while his love for her was destroying him. It was killing him. And, so, it seemed there was only one solution. She had to make him hate her. She had to make him hate The Moon. She had to make him hate her as much as she hated herself. And with the fact he didn't already, despite the fact her old vessel had actively been spreading insanity amongst the Hermits, causing earthquakes and disasters, destroying the landscape? It would take some drastic measures. Lengths she didn't want to go to. But knew she had too. For his sake and her own.

When she'd abandoned her celestial form, she'd abandoned most of her deific abilities with it. Fortunately, not all of them. She had enough power in reserve to call upon a mite of her old body down to Earth; a meteor. Little more than an atom compared to her mass. But enough to serve as a teensy deposit of her powers she could tap into and exploit. Enough to influence those around around her with The Moon's voice. Enough to make it clear love wouldn't work. Enough to make it clear there was only one option.

"…'I must have them'? Who must she have? Who must she have? Is it us? Must she have me? Must she have Doc? Who? Who does she need…?"

"He who doth preach to us on the first day of the server… so doth shall be returned to dust first." "His name is Mumbo Jumbo."

His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo. His name is Mumbo Jumbo.

Make love, not war. But if love doesn't work… use war.

-- so. uh. you asked for a drabble. this is uh..... this is 1.8k words. i may have. i may have gotten a little carried away. approximately 18 times the requested length carried away. I'M SO SORRY. I AM....... SO SORRY. I GOT A LITTLE BIT ILL ABOUT THEM. I HOPE THIS IS OK LOL. ANYWAY. thinking about hc s8 mumbo and the moon's strange relationship......... what do you MEAN mumbo made a cult and a temple and a shrine completely dedicated to the moon? what do you MEAN the first thing the moon did when it gained control over ren and doc's minds was make them sacrifice mumbo jumbo specifically ? and then cub ALSO sacrificed [an imitation of] mumbo jumbo SPECIFICALLY to appease the moon ? the moon was JUST as insane about mumbo as mumbo was about the moon. mumpearl is real guys i don't know what to tell you they're obsessed with each other they're deranged yuri