#found a new way to do grian's freckles and i think i like it

[angeart]

for @sygni <333

[silverskye13]

Tanguish slipped through his reflection and found himself standing in… well… Not Decked Out, which made this a new learning experience, because all he had really seen of Tango was Decked Out. Sure there were a few times they’d been elsewhere, but given the general feud between Hermits and Helsmets, those elsewheres had always been in far and unsettled places the Hermits hadn���t touched. This place he was standing in was definitely Hermit-touched. 

(It was funny thinking about it like that: Hermit-touched. It was a very divine sort of description for something. Maybe it said something about Tanguish and how he viewed hels, if he thought hermit-things were nicer. More perfect, somehow. That wasn’t something for unpacking right now, or ever, probably, but it was interesting to note for himself.)

He was standing in a barren-looking haunted house. The only thing that functioned as interior was the storage chests on one wall, a couple chairs, and an occupied bed. Nearest Tanguish could tell, he'd stepped out of the brass hinge of one of the chests.  Through the unfinished ceiling the house continued into a shop, sparsely kept and dust covered from lack of traffic. Through a window he caught glimpses of towering builds, houses (and not-houses), and colors Tanguish wasn't used to seeing as a part of a regular landscape. Green. And blue. They seemed like such gaudy colors compared to the hels red and brown. A hermit-touched landscape for the hermits to live in, just as vibrant as they were. Just as vibrant as most of them were, anyway.

“Hey buddy,” Tango called from the bed, sitting up and smiling weakly. His face was pale, the flame of his hair and the sparking redstone freckles on his skin were dull. He looked exhausted. “Took you long enough to show up.”

Tanguish rushed to Tango’s bedside, and he must’ve looked ridiculous, because the hermit laughed. “Woah hey, bucko, calm down. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Kinda frustrated." Tango smiled ruefully and laid back in bed. "You can't stay here long, dude. Doc's got me under near constant surveillance… and everyone else keeps popping in on the way to the shopping district." Tango smirked. "You'd think I was made of glass."

"You collapsed," Tanguish whispered.

"You see that through your coin?" 

Tanguish hesitated. He didn't know how much he should explain. The fact that no, he couldn't see anything through his reflection in the coin, and that was the problem. The fact that he'd had to track down other helsmits just to figure out what was going on. The unsettling hels Grian with his (it's?) staring portals, and his repeated deaths to Helsknight. Helsknight, the one who had ultimately helped, stepping through to Hermitcraft to… well, Helsknight had never really explained what he'd done. He just magically reappeared back in his house, sporting the kind of haggard disposition of someone coming back from respawn. Maybe he'd carried Tango to safety and been killed for it? That seemed probable. It also seemed like something Helsknight would've rubbed his nose in, so maybe that hadn't happened.

"Yeah, I saw it through the coin," Tanguish lied, because it was simpler. It's not like the nuance was needed anyway. Tango wasn't used to Tanguish lying (they didn't really do that to each other intentionally: lie. Tanguish wasn't sure if he liked that he was good at it). 

Tango shrugged. "I just overworked myself a little, that's all. I'll be fine after some rest."

Tanguish looked down at his hands. He had grabbed two fistfuls of Tango's blankets, and it felt like a paper-thin barrier between them. Tango was warm beneath them - he always ran hotter than normal people did. Fire and redstone. He still seemed cooler than he should be, though, like Tanguish's ice and sculk did war against it better.

"You'll be fine after some rest," Tanguish parroted automatically, quietly, hesitantly. He was used to agreeing with Tango. It came easy. It made him a better friend. Things were going to be normal again, and that would be nice. Tango would rest. Tango would feel better, and get back to work on Decked Out II. Tango would invite Tanguish to help, and they’d laugh and get into mischief, and that’s what Tanguish had enlisted Helsknight’s help for. 

Right?

Tanguish suddenly felt nauseous. Dreadfully nauseous. It was something in his guts like dread and worry. It was the sated thing inside him that wanted everything to be normal warring with the moral compass he developed at some point when he wasn’t looking. It was a very bad compass. It still let him steal, and guilt trip people, and be overall sneaky. Right now, however, it was reminding him he hadn’t gone through all the trouble of getting Helsknight’s help just for things to be normal. Normal had put Tango in this bed, resting and recovering. Normal would see Tango dead, if Tanguish didn’t do something about it.

“You need to talk to your friends.”

Tango ignored him so smoothly, Tanguish was almost convinced he’d thought the words instead of saying them out loud. “You need to talk to your friends,” he repeated, frowning.

“They’re busy.”

“Why aren’t they here right now?” 

“You’re right here dude.”

“I’m not your only friend.” Tanguish’s frown deepened. “Where’s Impulse?”

Tango waved a hand dismissively. “Off with the Soup Group somewhere.”

“And Zedaph?”

“Impulse and Zedaph aren’t my only friends.”

“They’re your closest friends,” Tanguish said, getting to his feet. “They’re supposed to be, anyway.”

“Yeah well, it’s halfway through the season. Stuff gets hectic.” Tango wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were fixed at the foot of the bed. Lying. “They’re too busy to be here.”

“You need to talk to them. Or… you said Doc was coming to visit regularly? Talk to him.”

“Doc is--”

“Not everyone in your life is too busy,” Tanguish snapped, frustrated. The little ice-tipped spines that followed his vertebrae down his back bristled slightly. Angry. Tanguish wasn’t used to feeling angry. That was a Tango feeling. He wasn’t used to carrying conversation, steering it in a fixed direction. That was also a Tango thing. A thing Tango wasn’t doing, which was worrying. Tanguish wasn’t supposed to be the stronger personality here. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” 

“I’m killing you.”

Tango scoffed, and despite how frustrating it was, Tanguish found it reassuring. It proved Tango was feeling something. Annoyance was useful when it wanted to be.

“You’re not killing me,” Tango said, sounding like he only half believed it. “And besides, even if you were, shouldn’t I be allowed to spend my time happy? Not worrying about--”

A burst of rockets fired overhead. The two of them looked up at the ceiling. Tanguish’s hand found the coin in his pocket, ready to retreat back to hels if someone came in. When nothing happened, Tanguish broke the silence first. “Why are you scared of your friends?”

“I’m not scared of my friends,” Tango protested, his hands balling into fists in his blankets. Tanguish raised a condescending eyebrow at him. “I’m not! Look, it's not my fault they’ve all moved on to bigger and better things, alright?”

“You’re scared they’re not your friends anymore?” Tanguish hoped he didn’t sound condescending. He wasn’t trying to be. It was… a very real fear Tanguish himself had felt before. He’d felt it when Tango had first collapsed, and he hadn’t been able to contact him. He’d felt it many times when Tango had talked about his friends and the things they got up to on Hermitcraft. It was an intimate, baleful jealousy, the kind of thing that felt less like you were possessive, and more like you were unworthy.

It was a fear Tanguish was supposed to have, and not one that Tango was supposed to have.

“I’m not-- that’s not what I meant. Stop twisting my words around!” Tango snapped. “What I’m saying is, it’s easier to get work done with your help. When you’re not being--” Tango gestured vaguely in Tanguish’s direction. “--like whatever the heck this riot act is.”

Tanguish shook his head, and Tango scoffed again. “Jeez dude, you’re worrying like, way way more than normal. Are you okay?”

“You collapsed.”

“Yeah well, I hadn’t slept in a few days. Sue me.”

Tanguish rubbed his face with his hands, and then ran them back through his hair exasperatedly. His breath was coming in frosted clouds. Aggravated. Angry. Frustrated? He was bad at feeling things. Emotions were… difficult. He should ask Helsknight about emotions sometime. He felt mad all the time, and he managed to control it somehow.

“You need to talk to your friends. Your other friends.”

“You keep saying that. Why can’t you just be my friend?”

“I’m going to get them.”

“Wh--! Tanguish!”

Tanguish spun on his heel and started walking. He was sure there had to be a staircase around here somewhere, and if there wasn’t, he could always climb the chests to the next floor--

“Hey! Are you listening to me?”

“No, I’m not,” Tanguish said absentmindedly, scurrying up Tango’s wall of chests for storage. The top chest was empty, and for a moment Tanguish was precariously balanced trying not to pull it down. Behind him, he heard Tango rustling. “Stay in bed.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Tango said, ignoring him. He shuffled his blankets off and swung his feet over the side of the bed.

“Stay down, Tango.” Tanguish said louder, like that would make him more convincing. He managed to get to the top of the chest wall, and turning to look down at Tango made his hermit counterpart look small and fragile with distance. “I’ll be right back.”

“You don’t even know where you’re going,” Tango told him, sounding almost pleading. He stood slowly, hesitated on unsteady legs. “And any hermit that sees you is going to kill you on sight, just saying. Hels aren’t really welcome here you know.”

“This is for your own good,” Tanguish said challengingly. “I’m not losing you over something this stupid.”

“You’re not-- gah!” Tango took two steps and fell. Tanguish was his side in a heartbeat. He reached forward to pick Tango up, only to have his hands smacked away. Tango scowled at the ground, at his hands in angry fists, shaking arms, trying to prop himself up. “I will stand up by myself thank you very much.” When he said it, the flame of his hair burned brighter, angrier. His freckles, a smattering of redstone spots on his cheeks and forearms, sparked once, insistently. Tanguish crouched on the balls of his feet, watching nervously as Tango shoved himself to his feet. He stood, swayed, steadied, and then fixed Tanguish in a glare. “See? I’m fine.”

“Walk back to bed,” Tanguish said gently, not rising from where he was crouched. “Please.”

“Why, so you can go running off again?” Tango demanded, refusing to move. Tanguish thought he caught a tremor in his counterpart’s knees.

“I won’t run off.”

Tango nodded. He looked back towards his bed, too nervous to walk on his own. He didn’t protest when Tanguish slowly straightened, wrapped Tango’s arm around his shoulders, and helped him back. This felt better, Tanguish thought. It felt more normal. This was how things were supposed to be. Tanguish was supposed to help Tango do things. Tango was supposed to have big outbursts, while Tanguish quietly reacted and did as he was told. This was how they were supposed to spend their time together. (This was a way out. Tanguish could decide he liked this so much, he would just walk away and let Tango rest and return to business as usual. Tango certainly wanted it that way. So did Helsknight, from what little they’d talked about it. It would be easy. It would be better than easy. It would be normal, expected. The path of least resistance.)

“Fine,” Tanguish said after a silence he hadn’t even noticed passing. “I’m going to make new friends.”

Tango smirked. “I’m not good enough for you either.”

(That hurt. That hurt a lot, actually. One more way out. Tanguish doesn’t want to be a bad friend. He doesn’t want to abandon Tango. Is that what he’s doing? Is he abandoning Tango? Weak, bedridden, because Tanguish is a good parasite. Taken all that’s good out of him, and leaving him for a new host? Is that what he’s doing? What’s worse? Killing someone or abandoning them? Tanguish felt like he was putting nails in someone’s coffin, and no matter how hard he tried to drop the hammer, all he did was hammer harder.)

“I’m not abandoning you.” Tanguish said firmly. “You need to talk to your friends. You need someone in your life that isn’t me.”

“Right, sure.”

“I’m killing you.”

“You keep saying that.”

Tanguish stood and brushed off his hands, like that would help solidify his decision. “If someone like me can make friends, then you can talk to the ones you already have.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It is,” Tanguish said firmly, trying to convince both of them. He wasn’t sure if it was working. He had stopped thinking about it enough to worry. Instead, Tanguish held out his hand for Tango to shake. “Deal?”

“Deal what?”

“If I make a friend, you are going to set up a meeting and actually talk to yours.”

“When did this become a deal, exchange, thing? I didn’t agree to that.”

“Deal?”

“I feel like this is a lot less of a choice than you’re trying to imply it is--”

“Tango.”

“Fine, fine! Whatever!” Tango grabbed Tanguish’s hand in a vicious handshake that made both of them flinch. Fire and ice, redstone and sculk. It didn’t really hurt. The physical contact was just kind of uncomfortable. It was something they didn’t do often.

“Deal,” Tanguish affirmed. He stood, feeling lighter on his feet than he had a few minutes ago. Maybe that was a good sign.

“Hey, earth to genius.” Tango snorted. “Do you even know how to make friends?”

Tanguish shrugged. “It can’t be that hard, can it?”

Tango laughed.

[This fic is a continuation on the Tango/Tanguish hels series. The last part can be read here. Or, alternatively, you can read the whole thing on AO3.]

[strawberrylemonz]

Fateful Night

Grian never forgot his original home, his original family. He didn’t remember the adoption of him and his brothers, but he remembered time after that. His father, King Philza Minecraft, was kind and firm to his sons and his kingdom. He remembered Wilbur’s love of all things musical, how he preferred words over a blade. He recalled his days training alongside Techno in the courtyard, both laughing as they beat their opponents together. He remembered his bedroom in the right wing of the castle, in between Technoblade and Wilbur’s. He remembered his crown and his cape, how he would proudly wear them during celebrations and balls.

But those days were over, he had to remind himself to move on. SMP Earth’s portal had been out of commission for years now, and no one knew why. Signs that the server still existed were found, but no one could piece together the pieces to find the issue with the server. No one could make contact with anyone stuck inside the server, and no one inside could get out. Grian couldn’t get back to his former home, he couldn’t get back to his family. In a way, that makes things easier to live somewhere else. He had disappeared from SMP Earth as a young child, much too young. Now, as a grown man, no one knew of his royal status. He didn’t push to hide his status from his new friends and family, but his situation wasn’t exactly anything that anyone could easily bring up into a conversation. Instead of trying to find a way to tell people, he just found it easier to not acknowledge at all.

He still can’t help but wonder, to question. He still didn’t understand how he was taken away from his room, his palace. He did question some of the competitors in MCC, how they seemed so familiar yet so different. He did wonder whatever became of his baby brother. He remembers many names for the child, but his brain couldn’t pinpoint what name was chosen in the end. It had been so long ago when the child was adopted that his brain couldn’t mush together his name. But he still remembered his eyes, how they shone with curiosity. He still recalls the night that he and his brother’s met the young babe for the very first time.

----------

The winter was colder than usual that year, too cold. Techno and Grian were walking beside Wilbur, taking sips of hot cocoa as Wilbur rambled about his newfound hatred of anteaters. Classes had ended hours before, and they were trying to their best to pass the time until dinner was prepared. They would have usually spent this time with their father, all talking about their day as they sat in the king’s study. Unfortunately, for the princes, this tradition was broken that night. Their father had left after lunch to conduct his weekly visit to the cities and towns that fell under the kingdom’s protection. Unlike the previous visits, however, he had not returned yet. Visits usually lasted a few hours, but tonight was different. It had been six hours since lunch, and he was still gone. As much as they wanted to panic, the triplets knew that things would be okay. This was their father, after all, nothing could scare or harm him.

Grian waved at the night guards as he and his brothers entered the courtyard. They made it halfway when they heard the familiar sound of wings flapping. Turning around, they greeted their father as he landed in front of them. They were stunned, however, why their father hastily nodded to them, before rushing away without a single word. The boys watched in confusion as he curled his wings over himself, as if to shield something in his arms. Although his face appeared to stay neutral and calm, the triplets knew better. Their father was afraid, they could tell by the way he held himself. After exchanging glances with each other, they rushed to follow him, their hot cocoa long forgotten. They followed in worry, listening as Phil barked orders in an unfamiliar, stern voice. They watched as servants ran off, gathering all the nurses and doctors they could find. Phil kicked his bedroom door open, causing the triplets to jump back in surprise. When they regained their composure, they rushed forward to see what their father was shielding. Or, in this case, who he was shielding. The three princes froze in their spots as their father unraveled his wings, revealing an infant babe, bundled in a tattered and burnt blanket. They made their way to step inside the room, but were quickly ushered aside by nurses, who closed the door before them.

“Was that a baby?”

“New sibling, pog.”

“What do you think their name is?”

“I bet it’s a boy!”

“Nuh uh, it’s a girl!”

“Guys, they’re a baby, not an it.”

“I bet I’ll be the favorite brother.”

“No way!”

The triplets sprung into action, ready to greet their new sibling. Rushing back to their rooms, they all quickly worked to make themselves presentable for the welcoming. Dawning their softest sweaters, they each exited their rooms to return to their father. Wilbur adjusted his beanie, Techno his crown, as Grian adjusted the grip on his stuffed cow. All sharing a satisfied smile, they made their way to their father’s room. As they walked down the hall, they took note of the sorrowful expressions of the nurses and doctors who were walking in the opposite direction. When they finally reached the door to the room, they were greeted by a familiar witch doctor. The man smiled down at the young princes, tipping his hat to them as he walked away. When they entered the bedroom, they saw their father sitting on the bed, his back turned to them. As they moved towards him, they were greeted by him, his voice soft.

“Boys, you should be at the dinner table by now.”

“Is that our new sibling?”

Wilbur played with his fingers as he watched his father’s movements, Techno and Grian following their brother’s actions. Phil finally turned to face the three boys, who all faltered at his tired eyes. Giving his sons a tired smile, Phil beckoned the three boys over to him. Slowly approaching the bed, they saw the infant lay on the comforter, his small hands balled into a fist and clinging to his blanket. They watched as he took ragged breaths, his chest rising and falling in uneven patterns. Techno was the first to speak up.

“Is it okay?”

“Techno, don’t be rude!”

“Heh?”

Phil lightly chuckled as he returned his gaze from his sons to the small infant, who was sprawled upon the bed, his breathing becoming shakier as the seconds passed. The triplets frowned as the sadness returned to Phil’s eyes, his voice getting quiet.

“I found a village outside of our kingdom’s borders. It had been burned and destroyed by pillagers. I searched the village many times, but he was the sole survivor. I found him, bundled up, laying in the snow. He wasn’t moving or responding, but he was breathing. That was enough to get me to rush him back here.”

Grian tore his eyes away from his father, deciding to look at the sleeping child. The boy was cute, Grian will admit, but he did look sickly. Wiping some of the sweat off the infant’s forehead, he asked the question that plagued his mind.

“Will he be okay?”

His father and brothers turned to face him, watching as he combed the baby’s hair to the side. Techno and Wilbur quieted down as they faced their father. Phil sighed as he watched the tenderness in Grian’s actions. Closing his eyes, Phil spoke up.

“The regular doctors said there wasn’t anything they could do for him. The nurses said that only a miracle could pick him up from death’s door.”

The triplets felt colder than they have ever felt. They had just got their new baby brother, and now they were losing him. They had to say goodbye before they could say hello. It just wasn’t fair-

“However,”

Three small heads quickly returned their gazes to that of their father’s.

“The last doctor, an old friend of mine, managed to contact the stars. A goddess, Clara, had apparently responded without hesitation. She happily agreed to revive the child and give him her protection.”

The three couldn’t bring themselves to make a witty remark to their father. Magic was real, this was true. Totems of undying were real, this they knew. But as much as they loved listening and reading the stories, the three could not bring themselves to believe that the gods would care for an unknown babe. Complete nonsense, if you asked them. For all they knew, their father was just trying to keep their spirits up, so he most likely crafted a story so that the boys wouldn’t panic when the magic occurred. As they all turned their attention to the sickly baby, they noticed that he stopped breathing. There was silence as the four waited, watching. Wilbur couldn’t stop the watering of his eyes as he latched onto Techno, who was stiff as a board. Phil just closed his eyes, appearing to be praying to whatever entity was listening in, watching the panicked family. Grian, blinded by his own tears, watched over the infant. He let out a shuddering gasp as he held onto the child’s stiff hand with his own. Suddenly, the feeling of warm hands passing through him caused his eyes to widen in shock, the stuffed cow in his arms being pulled closer to his chest. The warmth left as quickly as it came, but that wasn’t what kept him silent. There, laying on the bed, was the baby, breathing normally. Leaning over to get a better look at him, he noticed the warmer tone in the baby’s skin. He took note of the small freckles that began to fade into view, seemingly to mimic small stars. Clutching the cow, Grian prepared to call his family over, only to be stopped by the child furrowing his eyebrows. With a quiet yawn, the baby slowly blinked his eyes open. Grian felt his throat tightened as beautiful, big blue eyes stared into his. Grian couldn’t help but notice how the child’s eyes were as of the sea and the stars conjoined into one. Suddenly, the child switched his gaze down to the stuffed cow in Grian’s arms. Eyes widening with excitement, the baby wiggled his arms free and reached for the toy, squealing in delight.

It was then that Grian knew that he fell in love.

----------

Grian always thought of his family, every day. He had found a new family with Hermitcraft, with its people and with his makeshift children. He was grateful for the family he had now, but he couldn’t help but miss the one he once had.

“Grian! Are you almost ready?”

Shaking his head, Grian called back to Mumbo, who was outside of the room. Reassuring Mumbo that he would meet him at the gates, he smiled as he finished getting ready. As he adjusted his shirt, Grian couldn’t help but feel giddy for tonight. How could he not? It was a special night on the server, after all. One of their youngest members, Tommy, had something grand planned for everyone to see. Tommy was a unique and unusual case for all the hermits. He had appeared two years prior, broken and dull. With nothing but a few personal items, he was nothing but a broken shell of what he used to be. The hermits worked hard to get him to where he was today, to help him heal. They still didn’t know his past pain, but they didn’t push him to reveal anything he didn’t want to. It took a while, but the boy eventually trusted them enough to settle down and make a home there with them. Now, they were ready to see his biggest project on the server. Months prior, Tommy had requested a big area to build an amusement park. He explained that it would be a fun and safe place, and that it was the gate for him to open up about his past to them. He brightened up as the hermits all voiced their encouragement and approval. He insisted on completing the project all by himself, and he did. As soon as it was complete, he sent out invitations to all the hermits for a private opening night. The invitations were dated for tonight. Humming to himself, he peeked into a spare room, satisfied to see Jrumbot and Grumbot asleep for the night. Grabbing his coat, Grian gave his reflection a nod as he left the house, on his way to meet the rest of the server.

----------

Tommy was almost jumping with joy as his friends arrived at the gates, each dressed in casual formal attire. His eyes scanned the crowd, pride blooming in his chest as he took note of everyone who arrived. When he saw Grian, he couldn’t help but cheer alongside his chat. Once he saw that everyone had arrived, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Fellas! Can I get a humina?”

Laughter bubbled in his throat as the hermits chanted without hesitation. Joy filled him as he cheered alongside them.

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

Taking a deep breath, Tommy nodded to himself with a smile as joy filled his tone. Quickly thinking over the few points in his speech that he wanted to voice, he happily spoke up.

“Thank you for coming, I mean it. Believe it or not, it took me forever to convince myself to send the invites. I’m glad I did, and I’m glad you all came. It means so much to me that you guys care so much. I hope to repay the kindness to the fullest. For now, however, I’ll give you guys a park and a backstory. Y’know, because I’m cool and shit. I’m like Spider-Man, tragic backstory and all that shit. Mentor tally is through the roof, heh.”

The hermits laughed and cheered at the young man, who glowed with pride before them. They had watched him pick himself up from the brink of death, watched as his dull eyes brightened with love and joy. Ender, they all loved this young hermit.

“Okay, enough stalling. I, TommyInnit, proudly present-”

Affectionate snickers filled the air as Tommy mimicked a drumroll.

“Innit an Adventure!!!”

Cheers erupted from everyone as the sign was revealed, and the gates unlocked. With a giddy bow, Tommy let them enter the newest star attraction of the server. Stress and Impulse doubled up, snatching Doc while they were at it. Grian smiled at Mumbo, who joined his side in the front of the crowd. The two nodded a greeting to Xisuma, who nodded back as Tommy began to show them the map, explaining the different areas of the park, as well as how he would conduct the tour, leaving his tragic hero backstory for the end, when they reached the campfire. After the basic points of the tour for opening night were completed, they all went on their merry way.

Their first stop was the center entrance of the park, dubbed “Tavern Town”. Living up to its name, there were two large taverns, both surrounded by shops and booth games of all kinds. As Tommy explained the way the lodging system would work in the different areas of the park, everyone took note of how much Tommy’s building skills had improved since his initial arrival, something they all felt pride in. He had truly grown so much since he first stumbled in, scared and confused. Once the excited teen finished going over the points for the area, everyone was free to explore the area. Grian opted to ruffle the teen’s hair, praising him for his work so far.

“What the fuck, Big G? Watch the hair, bastard. You know my badass locks take time, bruv.”

“Oh, shut your mouth, princess. I’ll mess with your hair if I feel like it.”

Grian could feel a few affectionate glares directed at the two, but he and Tommy could only smile at each other. Just as he was going to continue showering the younger boy with affection, Mumbo called him over. Tommy smiled as he followed in suit, not quite ready to leave the older man just yet. Soon enough they approached Mumbo, who happily dragged them to a door in the mountain that everyone seemed to be entering, interested. Grian glanced at the lit up sign that addressed the building.

The Cavern of Memories

Determined to face his past, Tommy put up a determined face and followed everyone in.

It was beautiful. There were rows upon rows with sections that represented different servers. Each small section represented a person. Everyone explored the various bonds their favorite bandit obtained during his life so far. The saw the elegant and aesthetically pleasing section of Eret, a strawberry dress neatly sewn by hand with a bi flag hanging above it. Flowers surrounded the stand, and the lighting made it beautiful. A crown and a pair of sunglasses sat elegantly by the stand. They murmured in awe at the different people from different worlds. Niki, Puffy, Schlatt, Dream, Karl, Quackity, Sapnap, BBH, Skeppy. They snickered as they stared with adoration at the sections for a Lani and Drista, which were made to be elegant, dainty, and full of chaos. They never prepared to see so much bedrock and forks in one section, with bee plushies and butter knives in the other. They studied the section created for Tubbo, who, according to the sign, was still Tommy’s best friend.

The group grew excited as they entered the rows for the hermits, dispersing and happily gawking over their personal sections. They couldn’t help but let the happiness swell within them as they saw the sections made especially for them. They appreciated everything in the sections, each item carefully crafted and picked for them.

Mumbo laughed as he pulled Grian over to the sections for Grumbot and Jrumbot. As Mumbo voiced his interest with the detail, Grian’s eyes wandered to an unexplored set of rows. Well, the entrance to it, at least. Furrowing his eyebrows, he headed over to it, curious. Tommy took notice and decided to follow, wanting Grian’s feedback the most. Little by little, everyone began to follow Grian and Tommy into the last section. As Grian stood at the entrance, he peered over to read the sign that stated the server these rows represented. He felt a sharp intake on his part as he read it over and over again, trying to make sure he was reading correctly.

‘SMP EARTH’

Letting out a breath, he entered, Tommy and Mumbo by his side. As he studied the sections and it’s layout, he knew where he was. This first part was obviously Business Bay. Perhaps Tommy was from there? Perhaps Tommy came from the same server he did.

Maybe Tommy knew a way back home.

“The Antarctic Empire? You really are social, Tommy.”

Grian’s eyes widened as he quickly looked over to Doc, who was reading the sign of the next part of the sections. Desperate to see what Tommy knew, he hurried over in unusual silence. The rest of the group quietly followed, worried for Grian’s sudden shift.

He froze.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

How did Tommy even get all this?

Ignoring the worried voices behind him, Grian made his way to the largest section, and the last one. There, sitting elegantly upon the wall, was a family portrait. Phil lovingly smiled as his wings spread proudly behind him, his arms open and slightly extended. To Phil’s right was Grian’s eldest brother, Technoblade. He sat with a sharp yet, somehow, kind gaze. To Phil’s left was the second eldest, Wilbur. He smiled brightly, his eyes barely visible behind the grin. And there, in the center of the two, sat Grian. He smiled slightly, eyes filled with joy and love. In his arms, was his brand new baby brother, who stared curiously at who had to be the painter.

The royal Antarctic Empire outfits were on display, the crown of each respective member set on display beside each outfit. Many items were hung with sorrowful pride. Elytra there, a guitar in the corner, piano against the wall. Weapons of all kinds hung in an organized manner. Emeralds decorated the empty space. Grian felt his chest hurt as he choked on his words. He wasn’t even aware he was being addressed until two hands firmly grabbed his arms, and a face appeared.

“-kay, big man? What wrong?”

Tommy’s worried gaze trapped Grian in uncertainty. Finally able to form words, Grian’s broken voice filled the silence.

“How…How did you know them?”

Tommy blinked a few times, before turning around to face the display. They didn’t need to see his face to see the sorrow in the teen. Sighing, Tommy pointed at the baby in the portrait.

“See that lil’ man right there? That’s me, as a baby. Apparently I was found by the King, Philza Minecraft. He’s my adoptive dad. Then there’s my oldest brother, Technoblade-”

God, everyone could see how he tensed upon saying the name of his brother.

“-Then there's Wilbur. He practically raised me-”

Once again, his body language told the story. The way he slouched in defeat gave off warning alarms.

“-Then there’s my last older brother. I actually can’t remember his name, he went missing while I was still so small. I do remember some things from him, he gave me a cow on my first day. He’s also great at playing games, very pog. He’s actually the first face I saw when I arrived. You see, I was found in the snow of the ruins of what was once my village. I was dying, but then a witch doctor came and spoke to a goddess in the sky who agreed to revive me and shelter me. I still talk to her, whenever I get the chance. She’s guided me through a lot, she’s great. Her name is-”

“Clara.”

Tommy froze as he turned around, facing the owner of the voice. Grian just stared at him, desperation and hope in his eyes. Tommy stared in confusion as Grian approached him. Furrowing his eyebrows, Grian peered into the teen’s eyes. They stayed blue for a moment, but only a moment. Suddenly, Tommy seemed to have burst to life. Constellations painted his face, wonderful and beautiful as they are. They were Tommy’s one-of-a-kind and unique freckles, crafted specifically for him. And in his eyes? The stars and the sea danced together once more. Suddenly, Grian was wearing his best sweater in his father’s room once again, a cow hugged to his chest.

And then, he broke.

Tears escaped his eyes and he let out a strangled sob, throwing his arms around the younger boy, pulling him into a hug. Tommy let out a startled yelp as his friend engulfed him into a tight and gently embrace, sobbing into Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy had no idea what was happening. Why would Grian be so entranced by SMP Earth? Why would he care about Tommy’s relations to his family? Why did he know about Clara-

Wait-

Oh.

Oh.

Hol y sH I T

Pulling away, not quite believing what his mind put together, Tommy peered at the mess that was Grian. He looked, truly looked at his features. He still wasn’t sure, he didn’t want to hope. He didn’t want to hurt again. But as soon as Tommy peered into Grian’s eyes, he knew. There was no denying it. He knew those eyes. He’d never forget those eyes. They were the same, loving eyes that welcomed him into his new life.

“What the fuck, man.”

Mans before anyone could half-heartedly tell him off for his language, Tommy broke as well. The floodgates were let loose, and Tommy was the gatekeeper who allowed them to be free. Big blobs of tears fell off the boy’s face as he shoved his face into Grian’s chest. Grian, in turn, held onto Tommy as if he would disappear. The two crumbled to the floor, Grian rocking his baby brother in his arms once more, whispering soothing words to him. The rest of the group watched, and their very own hearts seemed to have burst alongside their two friends once they heard the next words.

“I’ve missed you, big bro.”

“I’ve got you, shooting star. I’m not letting you go, not again.”

All the hermits knew right then and there that the rest of the night would be filled with nothing but happiness and love.

They knew that the two finally found their home.

--------------------

This series has been inspired by @petrichormeraki (my beloved, dearest enemy of a blog)

@petrichormeraki has also made art based on this chapter! So has @sydneys-sketches !

New Brother Pog - @petrichormeraki

The Royal Family of the Antarctic Empire - @petrichormeraki

Grian finds the portrait - @sydneys-sketches

Part 1 [CURRENT]

Part 2

[charmergirl2468]

Hermitcraft Babus

Chapter 1: Appearance

Authors note: Ok, so I took the Hermitcraft Child AU from @concorp and tweaked it so that a) all the kids were different ages, b) would only include organic looking builds, and c) change a few names to fit more with what I envisioned. This is also just a pilot to see if this fic is worth going forward with or if I should just stick with just daydreaming about it at work. Either way, hope you like it!

If there was one thing Scar loved, aside from Jellie, was flying over Hermitville. It was pleasing to see the huge builds he, Grian, and Iskall made as he glided by. It was a fun race to build height regardless of the tie.

But there was something amiss. Namely, Scara, the plant monster part of his build was missing. He mumbled a “What the…?” As he headed to where Scara use to sit. Did someone prank him? Seems like too much effort for a prank. Perhaps griefing for the Area 77 shenanigans? No, anyone with an actual ax to grind with Area 77 would prank there directly rather than hit one of Scars big builds.

Scar’s questions were put to rest when a tiny green child hugged him around his legs. He gazed down to see girl, no older than five years old, looking up at him with a smile on her face and giggles coming out of her mouth. She was wearing an orange dress with dark purple tights and red strapped shoes. Glasses adorned her adorable face in front of magenta eyes and a blue wizards hat too big for her head sat on top of her forest green curly hair, framing her freckled face. Scar felt like he recognized the kid, but couldn’t place where.

It all clicked for him, however, when the tiny tot called out “Daddy!” to the unsuspecting hermit.

Needless to say he short circuited for a few minutes before he could fully process what just happened.

There was only one proper way to respond to the situation to him.

“XISUMA!!!”

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

“So let me get this straight,” Xisuma started, a hand on his forehead to ease a coming headache, “you flew over Hermitville from Area 77 and saw that your plant monster was gone. Then you found a little girl who looks a lot like your plant monster at the base of where it was and she’s calling you ‘daddy’?”

“That’s the gist, yeah” Scar confirmed, the little girl resting on his hip in his arms and giggling away, “I’m starting to think the kid is Scara”

“Yeah silly daddy!” The girl exclaimed giddily, reaching up to tug at Scars hat. There was an awkward pause between them before Xisuma sighed.

“So to amend what I said before;” Xisuma gritted out in frustration, “you found Scara had somehow turned into a kid. Welp, this is officially the strangest thing I’ve ever seen happen on Hermitcraft!”

“Daddy, is Uncle X gonna be ok?” Scara asked, looking at her dad with her head tilted curiously. All Scar could do was pet her head with a small smile.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, Kiddo” he replied. “But are you ok? Do you remember anything weird?”

The little plant gave a thoughtful hum before replying with “Nope! Just woke up on the ground. I do ‘member a few things like how to do magic and that my eyes were hurt, but then you made them feel better!”

“Wait,” Xisuma questioned, “You can do magic? What kind?”

Little Scara decided to purely demonstrate by waiving her hands in the air, a light blue aura swirling around her palms and finger tips. Without warning, that same aura surrounded Xisuma as he started to levitate off the ground. The plant person giggled as her father set her down and sat beside her, laughing at his friends misfortune.

“H-Hey!” He exclaimed in surprise, “p-put me down! Please!”

The two just laughed as Scara made the admin do loops and spins in the air. Scar had to admit, even if this was beyond weird and didn’t make any sense, he did feel a fatherly bond with the young girl beside him. Maybe it was the fact she was his build, maybe it was the way she just casually calls him daddy, he didn’t really know. All he knew was that she’d already wormed her way into his heart.

The blissful moment was shattered, however, by a loud “OI!” And the sound of footsteps getting closer. The surprising exclamation made Scara drop Xisuma, causing him to land unceremoniously on his butt. The admin groaned from the fall.

Another girl, looking to be about 16 years old, stomped up with a baby in her arms. The teen had a tan complexion and ginger orange hair in a side ponytail with fiery red eyes (which, when given a closer look, had slit pupils). She was wearing a red tank top, black jeans held up by a brown belt and black combat boots, but that wasn’t the strangest thing about her. Her back adorned dragon wings, horns and lizard tail. Comparatively, the baby crying away in her arms was normal, the tot having tuffs of dark still growing hair and being wrapped up in some sort of hoodie.

“What are you lot laughing about!?” The tween angrily asked, British accent present. Xisuma examined her at a distance as he tried to rub the soreness away from his backside. He thought she looked familiar, but couldn’t pin point why. Scar got to his feet to walk towards her, but was shoved the baby instead. “Know What? I don’t care right now. You daft adults can at least take the brat off my hands”

All it took was Xisuma looking up at the other two build-off towers to realize what was going on.

“Oh come on!”

The lack of a dragon and penguin confirmed who these two new children are.