#grian keeps coming out of my pencil what do i do

[specificallygrowndaikon]

heh… you’ll never guess who MY favourite minecraft youtuber is 😼

and then i trip and fall and my sketchbook pages fall out looking like this

[frozenjokes]

Another Much Needed Follow Up About Love and Aromanticism, Where It’s Time We Cleared Things Up. Oh, And Mumbo Is Here Too.

this fic can be read on its own as a one shot, but I would recommend reading this first, as the context provides a little more insight on why the characters are reacting the way they do to each other

Over the course of a couple weeks very little changed. Mumbo spent the majority of his time planted in one place, anchored somewhat in the shallows so he could lift his head and listen to what the humans were doing on the days they came around. As much as it pained Mumbo to be so still so much of the time, it was a necessary evil if he ever wanted to heal, and he very much did. It didn’t matter how little he moved his tail at this point, anything he did would only result in his condition worsening.

If it wasn’t for Scar, he would have left a while ago. The humans didn’t come every day anymore, but they came often enough, and they certainly noticed Mumbo’s lack of activity. Grian tended towards keeping his distance, which didn’t bother Mumbo at all, but Scar really went out of his way to be there; sitting close (a gesture Mumbo was beginning to mind less), bringing him human trinkets to look at and play with (always exciting), but most importantly Scar brought food, and a lot of it at that; Mumbo wouldn’t have been able to stay without it. He often wondered where Scar got the many bags of fish he brought; it wasn’t all very fresh, so it was probably supplied from a human stockpile, but regardless, Mumbo was grateful. He wasn’t often in the best of moods and didn’t speak very much despite the fact he was sure Scar would have been ecstatic to talk with him, but he hoped regardless that Scar knew how deeply grateful he was.

Today, Scar and Grian were sitting on the shore together, shoulder to shoulder as they bent over one of their human activities. The first time Mumbo saw them drawing together, he had asked to see (saying ‘What’ over and over again seemed to have gained several different meanings over the weeks), but Scar had showed him that the paper they wrote on got ruined in the water, ripping easily, so it wasn’t something Mumbo could learn about personally. That was okay though, he was content to watch.

“Okay,” Scar began tapping the writing utensil (‘pencil’) to his lips, “Do we have anything to revise about the list this week? I don’t think very much new has happened.”

“Read it again, will you?”

“It’s right here in front of your face, do I really have to?”

“We’ve been over this Scar, I’m conditionally illiterate. Like right now, you got me up early and I’m tired and the words are so far away and I don’t want to. Also your handwriting is atrocious.”

“I’m tired too! It’s not my fault my fish guy needed me to show up at 6 AM.”

“You have a car, Scar. And a license.”

“Oh hey! Look at this cool list!” Scar directed Grian’s attention back to the paper, Grian only rolling his eyes before letting Scar continue. “Well, I won’t go into detail on my notes about what he eats because that’ll just bore you, but to put it simply, basically everything that’s got meat on it. Fish, shellfish, red meat, chicken, mostly just fish is what I’ve been giving him though, since I’m assuming that's what makes up most of his diet. Want to make sure he gets all the proper nutrients, you understand, you understand.”

“Uh huh.”

“As for ‘Likes,’ we’ve got fish, human stuff, Scar, Grian-”

“Scar first?” Grian cut his friend off with a raised eyebrow. Scar blinked several times before answering.

“What?”

“Scar, Grian. You put your name before mine.”

“Well this list wasn’t meant to be in order, but if it was, my name would absolutely go before yours.”

“What! No it wouldn’t. He likes us equally. Mumbo and I have a mutual understanding that we do not want to be anywhere near each other most of the time. We respect each other. From a distance.”

Scar smirked, throwing Mumbo an amused look as if he understood anything that was going on. “You know if you wanted to you could also bring him gifts and stuff. Nothing is stopping you. You could even bring him his fish if you wanted to, he wouldn’t know the difference. I wouldn’t care. There’s really nothing to be afraid of, especially now when he’s so docile like this.”

“I’m not afraid of Mumbo.”

“No?”

“If anything, he’s afraid of me, Scar. I got him in that net, I’ve gotten close to killing him a couple times- he knows it, Scar, he knows. He knows what’ll happen if he steps out of line, that’s what. I told him. I told him all about it.”

“Did you now,” Scar chuckled, nudging Grian playfully, “Well in that case, I’m definitely sure he likes me more. And I’m sure you’re perfectly content with being feared, but if you ever change your mind, I’d be happy to help.”

Grian huffed, “I won’t. Continue though.”

Scar lingered for a moment, a gentle fondness etched on his features before turning back to the paper, reading, “Well, he plays around with those vines and roots and things sometimes, he clearly is very curious, he likes to learn, and I think he likes birds, but he might just be staring at them because he wants to eat them. I put bugs in our ‘Neutral’ category since every time I try to give him a bug he just eats it, but I can’t tell if he just eats bugs or if he’s scared of them or something.”

“I highly doubt Mumbo is afraid of bugs. I doubt he cares.”

“Well, you never know! In ‘Dislikes’ we’ve got nets, sleeping bags, being touched, fighting- actually this isn't super related, but I really want to set up a Good and Bad system with him. A thumbs up thumbs down kind of situation. I was thinking about it all last night- we aren’t very good at communicating what we like or don’t like, and this feels like a good solution, but I’m not exactly sure how to tell him clearly what I’m trying to do. How would he know thumbs up means ‘good.’ And vice versa? Maybe bad would be easier to start with, but at the same time he kinda seems like a bite first ask questions later kinda guy.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Definitely start with thumbs up. With any luck he’ll understand that thumbs down is the opposite and you can go from there. I think you could probably associate the gesture with things Mumbo likes. The tape measure, fish- he knows smiling is a positive thing even if he doesn’t smile himself, and he knows what ‘yes’ means as well. With enough of that, I think he’ll grasp the meaning pretty quick.”

“I think so too,” Scar paused for a moment, thoughtful, “You know, this doesn’t just have to be a me effort. You could come and speak to him as well. He would know you’re putting in the effort if you wanted him to like you more.”

“He likes me plenty!” Grian switched from relaxed to exasperated on a dime, throwing up his hands as Scar laughed. “He likes me, Scar.”

“I know he likes you. But I also know he doesn’t have the full picture. He doesn’t know how much time you spend brainstorming how to teach him things, or how to relieve his stress, or worrying when he’s not feeling well. I just want him to know you aren’t as distant as he probably thinks, especially if it bothers you. If you wanted to get a little closer and help me with the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ gestures, that’d be a start.”

Grian was silent for a long time, brows creased tight above his eyes. “Maybe,” he said finally, almost quietly, “But not today. I’m too tired.”

“Yeah, me too,” Scar sighed, content, letting his head fall to rest on top of Grian’s, who squeaked, jumping so hard he accidentally jabbed at Scar’s chin with his shoulder. It must not have hurt though, because Scar didn’t seem to mind at all, unmoving. Slowly, Grian untensed, his head falling gently on Scar’s shoulder. Mumbo had a somewhat ridiculous pang of longing despite still holding a strong aversion to any human touch at all. They just looked so relaxed- anyone would wonder what it was like to be human. Though, while Scar closed his eyes, Grian didn’t quite look satisfied, something like conflict sitting across his features. He sat like that for a while, eyes moving, but not quite looking at anything at all, apparent restlessness building. Then he stopped. Closed his eyes. Opened them.

“Scar, are you aromantic or are you just fucking with me? Because I outright refuse to believe anyone is actually this clueless.”

Scar opened his eyes. Silence. “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh???” It was safe to say the two of them did not look relaxed anymore, Grian jerking away, “Scar, what does ‘uh oh’ mean. You can not just say ‘uh oh’ and nothing else.” Mumbo’s fins raised at the tone of his voice, but Mumbo cringed back when Grian whipped around to face him with an aggressive point. “No. You stay. Scar, I need you to say more right now.”

“I-Sleeping, I mean, we weren’t sleeping yet- but resting like- not friends? Not normal? Bdubs- I am going to strangle that man!”

“So you’re aromantic?” The words leapt off Grian’s tongue like an accusation, but he relaxed almost immediately after, sighing into his hands, “You’re aromantic. Okay. Good. Okay.”

“I- I mean I don’t love labels. I don’t really know, I don’t know much of anything at all, really. I’m sorry, Grian, I didn’t- did no one tell you I have a horrible track record for these things? Did you want me to ask you out? I still can.”

“Goodness, Scar, no! You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, you’ve just been sending incredibly mixed signals and I needed to know what was going on with you before my head exploded and my brains went all over the place and poor Mumbo would have to witness that and we don’t want that, do we? We don’t want that. This is fine, though, we just need to work out some boundaries.”

“What if I did want to though? To ask you out?”

Grian stared. Scar stared back.

“You do not want to.”

“I’ll have you know, I like you plenty a lot! I like you all sorts of ways, and if you also like me, then that’s cool! I’ll tell ya, when I had my little politics phase, my campaign manager was this great guy, Bdubs, we’re still friends, too, have you met him? Anyway, he’s a pretty touchy guy as well and he convinced me all sorts of things were totally normal friend stuff. Oh, we had this great cushy chair in our office and it was only really meant for one person, but sometimes we’d both be so tired and just squeeze into it and it wasn’t any sort of comfortable at all, but in a way it kinda was. Like inside. You know?”

“Scar, do you actually want to ask me out or are you just saying that because you think that’s what I wanted.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not what I asked.”

“Well, Grian, it really doesn’t matter to me either way!” Scar gave Grian a big smile, like these words were the ones that would definitively solve their dispute, but the expression started to drop when Grian looked mortified. “Is..” Scar started, unsure now, “Something wrong?”

Mumbo had never seen such a wide range of emotions cross Grian’s face before his head dropped onto his knees with a soft thunk. “No. It’s fine.”

Scar stared for a long while, a gentle churning of thought moving behind his eyes. He relaxed, scooching to give Grian a little space before smiling again, the expression soft. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Sure, Scar.” Grian’s voice was muffled between his knees, and given his face was covered, Mumbo had no idea how he was feeling.

“So there was this one time in high school where I was good friends with this girl, and she was awesome, just the best, and we hung out like constantly, and y’know how people get sometimes all pushy asking about dating and stuff, but you also know high schoolers who can’t communicate if their life was on the line. So all my friends are like dude, you guys are literally dating, aren’t you? And I say no! I insist we’re not every time, I insist! Yes, we went out together often and we talked for hours and her family had some money troubles so a lot of the time I offered to pay, you know, normal stuff, it was normal, I promise, but one day I get this call, right? From one of her friends! And this girl just starts ripping into me, like, seriously! She’s telling me all this stuff I had no idea about- telling me my friend is so confused, that she doesn’t feel pretty around me, that I’m always trying to avoid intimacy- that I refused to kiss her! And I was like what, whoa there! No one has ever tried to kiss me! Why are we talking about kissing people? She thought we were dating, Grian.”

“I got that.”

“And then she dumped me! My first breakup, and I didn’t even know! I was kinda bummed, too, I had always kinda wanted to kiss someone, but I thought they’d tell me first! Y’know, that they wanted to. I would have been so ready! The worst part is I think my guy friends were trying to tell me we were dating, not just teasing me. They also thought it was funny though, so. Who knows.”

“Yeesh.”

“I know, right! And this other time in college there was this other girl- we had mutual friends and stuff and we were at a party and just absolutely wasted and she grabbed me by the collar and she said ‘SCAR,’ she yelled in my face, she said ‘I’ve been FLIRTING with you for WEEKS and YOU’VE been flirting BACK. ARE YOU GAY?’ And I said, drunk, ‘A little bit!’ And then we danced all night. It was awesome. She was so cool. That kinda stuff happened a lot in college, actually. Guys are a bit more direct, which I appreciate. I’m a little stupid, I need the extra help sometimes.”

Grian tensed where he was sitting, quiet for a short pause before speaking, “You’re not stupid, Scar.”

“I mean. A little bit.”

“No. You’re not stupid.”

Scar was silent for a long while, staring despite Grian’s head still being buried in his knees. “I don’t know about that.”

Grian lifted his head, shaking it ‘no.’ He blinked a couple times before shaking his head again, a little more forcefully. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn’t have done that, I should’ve just talked to you like an adult and told you how I was feeling. Sometimes you’re just really confusing, and that’s not your fault, you just.. go about the world in a different way. And it’s not a bad way either, it’s not wrong. If people can’t communicate exactly how they’re feeling to you, that’s a them issue. You’re not stupid. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know, Scar. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I really thought we had some sort of understanding- and I did mean it when I said we could give this a shot. I like dating, Grian, I always have a lot of fun! I can be- I know I can be- I have trouble sometimes, I just ruin good things-”

“Scar, stop, please. I don’t want anything you don’t want. Period.”

Scar didn’t seem to know what to do with that, staring uselessly at his own hands before looking back up. “I want it, Grian,” he stressed, his arms trembling, but Grian only stared, lips gently parted.

They both looked.. So sad. Mumbo longed to help, to sing, to do something, but he was stuck outside of their world.

Grian extended his arms. “C’mere, buddy.”

Scar collapsed into them, shaking as he did. Grian didn’t move, rubbing slow circles on Scar’s back while he cried. There was a certain focus behind Grian’s eyes, a certain calm as he held his friend close, and Mumbo.. well, it was clear Grian didn’t need Mumbo’s help. So that was the power of human touch.

He’d have to learn it one day.

[rosenbergamot]

The Sand Permits; or, conversely, Scar and Grian are unable to communicate like normal people

“I don’t like my permits,” Scar says, something unreadable on his face. Grian adjusts his tie, then the papers on his desk., and prepares for another long Scar rant. Whatever it is he’s ranting about this time, Grian’s not sure he can tell, but based on his tone it has to be something difficult for him. “It’s annoying-- it gets in everything! Gets everywhere! I need something else.” 

There’s a loaded quality to that sentence. Grian raises his eyebrow, his hand coming to clutch his pencil as if it can help him through this moment. “What permit do you even have, Scar?”

The answer is something he should have expected from the way Scar is looking at him. The hurt in his eyes. He remembers-- and Grian knows that he remembers, and Scar knows that he knows that he remembers-- but it’s never been brought up before, never been shoved too explicitly in his face. Scar keeps it retained to small comments followed by awkward crooked grins that say nothing. 

“Oh, you know… just sand.” 

Their eyes meet. Scar holds the gaze, as if daring him to say something to him finally-- to acknowledge everything they’ve been through together that he’s only just now remembered. If only Pearl had killed him in Secret Life. Maybe then Grian could have put this off. Oh. Whatever. He’s still going to put it off. Skizz is right there after all.

He studies his nails. “Sand is a pretty good seller, y’know? You’ll have a whole monopoly on it and everything, so I can’t see why you don’t want to go through with it. I thought you liked sand.”

“Sand is useful!” Skizz chirps. 

Neither of them say anything for a second, still staring at one another. Skizz scratches at his head.

“Sand is useful,” Scar agrees easily, his voice strangely flat. “I did like sand. I do like sand. But sand hasn’t been the same ever since it came out of the desert.”

His wings puff up but he keeps his voice level. “Of course sand hasn’t been the same since it left the desert, do you even know what the sand went through in that place?”

“How could I not? I was there! I harvested the sand! I built a home with the sand!” 

The way Scar’s face wrinkles is very reminiscent of Double Life. Grian wants nothing more than to erase that face out of his mind. 

“Maybe the sand didn’t want you to harvest it.” The words are spoken from behind his teeth. His heart is picking up its pace. 

And that gets emotion out of Scar. It’s the same as it was back on Monopoly Mountain, when his eyes were red instead of green, his hands shaking with barely concealed bloodlust. “Maybe the sand shouldn’t have killed me, then!” 

“Maybe the sand shouldn’t have!” He agrees, throwing his hands into the air. Hurt flashes in Scar’s eyes-- as if Grian didn’t just agree with him and his stupid metaphor! He wraps his arm around himself. His voice gets quieter. “Maybe the sand regrets it. Maybe the sand wanted things to be different, wanted to be with you but just didn’t know how. Maybe… maybe the sand just wants things to go back to being normal again.” 

His voice betrays no emotion. He smiles at Grian. “Maybe the sand shouldn’t have broken my heart. Maybe things could be normal then.” 

The pencil in his hand snaps. 

“Scar, you…” His hand is full of snapped graphite. He drops the pencil onto his desk. Being at a loss for words is a feeling that’s foreign to him. It’s rather uncomfortable right now. 

Scar keeps his eyes on him as he tries to formulate a sentence. He gives him longer than he deserves, watching carefully, until finally his smile softens. It makes his stomach drop despite how gentle it is. 

“I’ll see you around, Grian.” He turns, cane in hand, and walks out of his makeshift door. As he leaves, he calls back, “and forget about the permit thing! I’ll figure it out myself.” 

Then he’s gone. And Grian is left to stare at where he just was and wonder what the hell went so wrong. The permit office is silent, still, the only sound and movement coming from himself-- from his shoulders as they heave with his breaths, with his attempts to hold in the tears that suddenly want to fall from his eyes. He can’t cry, though. There’s work to do.

“Um?” Oh. There’s also Skizzleman. He awkwardly shuffles his feet, still holding a file of forms that Scar hadn’t taken with him. “Was that like… was that a thing? Should I have not witnessed that? I don’t think that was about sand.” 

He laughs. It’s hollow. “No, Skizz, I don’t think it was about sand either.” 

read it on ao3 here!!

[watarfallar]

Have Some Celebratory Incorrect Quotes- HERE'S TO WILD LIFE!

Joel: Oh, to be a bored heir to the throne who keeps rejecting marriage proposals due to being secretly in love with the cute gardener. Etho: Oh, to be a cute gardener who secretly places roses in the heir’s room because they are in love with them. Lizzie: Oh, to be the palace guard who discreetly helps to boost the cute gardener up the wall for their secret deliveries in the middle of the night. Scott: Oh, to be the heir’s best friend witnessing the two fools dance around each other while knowing damn well that the two like each other. Gem: Oh, to be the noble suitor from another royal family who comes to know of their love instantly and plans an entire plan to get them their happy ending. Impulse: Oh, to be a medieval peasant who knows nothing about the heir’s personal life and who dies of dysentery at age 23.

Pearl: My mom is calling… hi mom. Jimmy: Come on guys, stop. They’re trying to talk to their mom. Scar: *loud fake sexual noises* Mumbo: EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP! Grian: *is asleep* Ren: *gets really close to the phone* Tell her I said hi.

Impulse: So, Skizz is late today. Anyone wanna bet why? Impulse: I say they slipped through the subway grate and is having terrible sex with the mole man. Grian: I don't know about that...I think either their alarm clock didn't go off, or they're in line at the bank. Scott: Take this more seriously! Skizz was clearly taken in their sleep! Lizzie: I bet they tucked themselves into the bed too tightly and got stuck. Cleo: Maybe they fell into another dimension where they're more interesting...? *Skizz arrives* Skizz: Sorry I'm late - there was a problem at the bank. Grian, clapping their hands in excitement: HOT DAMN!

*Everyone is standing around the broken coffee maker* Grian: So. Who broke it? I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Everyone: Impulse: ...I did. I broke it. Grian: No. No you didn't. Cleo? Cleo: Don't look at me. Look at Etho. Etho: What?! I didn't break it. Cleo: Huh, that's weird. How'd you even know it was broken? Etho: Because it's sitting right in front of us and it's broken. Cleo: Suspicious. Etho: No, it's not! Bdubs: If it matters, probably not, but BigB was the last one to use it. BigB: Liar! I don't even drink that crap! Bdubs: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier? BigB: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Bdubs! Impulse: Okay let's not fight. I broke it. Let me pay for it, Grian. Grian: No! Who broke it!? Everyone: Bdubs: Grian... Cleo's been awfully quiet. Cleo: rEALLY?! *Everyone starts arguing* Grian, being interviewed: I broke it. I burned my hand so I punched it. Grian: I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick. Grian: Grian: Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

Joel: Christmas lights? Pearl: Check. Scott: Thermos of hot cocoa? Pearl: Check. Cleo: Santa suits? Pearl: Check. Grian: Shovel? Pearl: Check. Martyn: Alibi and bail money? Pearl: Check- wait, WHAT?!

Martyn: Alright, who’s hogging the Netflix account? I’ve been locked out all week! Scott: Sucks to suck! I’m already on the 8th season of Friends! Bdubs: Not me. Martyn: Don’t lie. I know it’s not Scar or Skizz. Bdubs: It’s not me, really! Martyn: … Bdubs: …But it might be Joel… Martyn: You gave Joel access to our Netflix account!?!? Bdubs: They wanted to watch Orange is the New Black! Martyn: I’m going to kill you.

Cleo: I’m the smartest person in my friend group. Skizz: You hang out with BigB, Jimmy, Etho, and Impulse. Skizz: It’s not as high a compliment as you think.

Gem: Dumbest scar stories, go! Martyn: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Etho: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and it burned. Tango: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. BigB: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it in my hand and I got a really bad burn. Bdubs: I have emotional scars.

Scar: *fills up bottle and drinks from that* Bdubs: *brought 4 bottles of water so this wouldn’t happen* Martyn: *drinks straight from the tap* Skizz: *dehydrates* Ren: *drinks from the puddle of water on the floor* Pearl: *licks the tap, doesn’t even need a drink*

!SUGGESTIVENESS AHEAD!

Grian: Make her pussy wet not her eyes. Scott: Make his dick hard not his life. Bdubs: Break her bed not her heart. Scar: Play with her boobs not her feelings. Mumbo: Get on his dick not his nerves. Etho: Always salt your pasta while boiling it.

!SUGGESTIVENESS OVER!

*after the Squad has been separated for a few years* Mumbo: So what have you been up to recently? BigB: Leading a revolution with Etho. Mumbo: Good for you two! Me, I've joined the mob. BigB: *nods* Oh, how cool! That's awesome! Mumbo: I know! Anyway, have you heard from the others? Bdubs? BigB: Happily living as a hermit in the woods. Joel? Mumbo: Wrongfully locked up in an asylum, which reminds me, we need to break them out later. Lizzie? BigB: Cult leader. Mumbo: Yeah, that sounds about right.

Joel, to the Squad: I’d die for you. Jimmy: Then perish. Scar: You will. Skizz: Please don’t. Impulse: Cool. Scott: I’d die for you first.

Jimmy: You're a lying piece of shit! Scott: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! Impulse: I'm leaving and I'm taking Ren with me! Scar, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

Mumbo: If you put a milkshake in one yard and crack open a cold one in another yard, which yard would the boys go to? Pearl: Schrödinger's boys. Grian: FUCK! Lizzie: What about cracking open a cold milkshake? Etho: As we all know, the milkshake brings the boys to the yard. The presence of the boys is a prerequisite for the cracking open of a cold one, but cold ones do not have any inherent boy-attracting abilities. Milkshakes, however, do. Etho: All else being equal, the boys would proceed to the milkshake yard. While it is possible to announce the presence of cold ones in the hope of attracting some boys, the pull of the milkshake is much more powerful by comparison. Mumbo: ... Pearl: ... Grian: ... Lizzie: ... Etho: Mind you, all of this nonsense hinges on whether or not the boys are back in town.

Gem: What do you guys do when you're stressed? Cleo: Try and calm myself down! Tango: Sleep. Martyn: Get myself into even more stress, so that the first reason for my stress gets cancelled out. Scar: I don't.

+ bonus hermitcraft quote! (Dasuma and his brainless children)

Xisuma: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Pearl: Several traffic violations. Scar: Three counts of resisting arrest. Jimmy: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Grian: Also, that’s not our car.

[life-winners-liveblog]

(( Hihi it’s me, the person who gave the “nicest threat” returns, just wanna say rq that everytime i come back to tumblr, this is one of the first things I check and EVERYTIME I DO, I KEEP GETTING JUMPSCARED BY MUCH HAPPENED SINCE I LEFT- Anyways You are amaaaaazing yes ik i already said that but that’s bc it’s true <3

Anyways I’ll actually interact with the winners for once ))

-[ Heeeellloo hello hello! Social anxiety is consuming me once again but nevertheless, y’all can call mee… *pulls out a list..* Nate. Y’all can call me Nate- cause this is my first time talkin to y’all but I have been observing for a while,,,

and FOR THE NEW GUEST BAD MAD SAD BOY JIMMY SOLIDARITYGAMING! our favourite canary, ima send him two whole packet of marshmallows, feel free to share them with everyone else! Or gatekeep it for yourself, up to you.. ima riot if the two observing steal them- aND also ima give Scott & Grian a bunch of plants/flowers bc i can, Pearl.. have a book & a pencil case full of stationeries And for martyn.. *gives him a note that reads* “you get nothing <3�� *immediately after, another note drops* “ jk have these, choose your favourite! Share if you want but knowing you, you probably won’t “ proceeding to drop him a bunch of hair clips of different variants

Turning over to the two observers, don’t think I forgot about you even though I just mentioned you guys literally a paragraph ago.. Scar you can have my keychain collection, you seem like the typa guy to like keychains idk why, Scott you don’t get shit cause respectfully.. fuck you <3 ]

(( WOW THATS LONG! Sorry not sorry for that <3 but I am sorry if it’s difficult to read,, Im very tired rn & my brain is not braining! ))

(Aw thank you so much!!!! :D)

LimL!Jimmy: Marshmallows?!?! ✨✨

Scott:... Well that was an emotional 180, It's giving me quite a bit of whiplash... Also thank you for the flowers they are quite nice.

~~~~~~~

Grian: Plants? hmmmmm, we can use these on the base don't you think? Maybe if we put them over there or... Maybe up next to the lighthouse? We could make a garden somewhe-... Are you even listening?

Pearl: Oh, yeah sure.

Grian: What was I saying then?

Pearl:... Something...something...plants...?

Grian:....

~~~~~~~~

Martyn:... I am going to share them just to spite you because screw you.

[frog-writes-for-fun]

Hello! So, I’m new here, and not exactly sure if you’re up to it (saw that request are open, but you can decide if you want to do it or not) but can I request platonic hermitcraft x reader? Like, reader is pretty honest, but if they’re asked if they did something nice for them, they would lie and say it was probably someone else, out of habit? (Like they give gifts to the hermits, or get something the hermits said they needed?) Idk if you want to do this, it’s just a silly idea. You can choose who you want to write for.

…Have you been watching me? This is exactly what I do- If they ask me outright, I’ll answer that it was me but I don’t generally tell people that gifts are from me.

All Too Kind

c!Hermits x gn!Reader

Summary: Some overnight gifts quickly become a serverwide mystery. You, however, are content to remain anonymous.

Notes: None! It's just a fluffy little thing!

You packed the cakes into the chest carefully. Even stacks, spread into rows on the bottom of the chest. Smiling, you stepped back, closing the lid with a soft and satisfying thunk.

Grian will love this.

Kneeling to the ground, you dug in your pack for the worn map of the server and a fresh stack of rockets to keep you in the air.

Next target: False Symmetry.

“Did you hear the news, dude? Someone’s been leaving gifts of cake everywhere!” As you walked through the shopping district, Ren’s voice carried from where he stood talking to Doc. “At this rate no one’s going to need my pies or Scar’s cookies, we’ll all be too full of cake!”

“Tell me about it. I found three shulkers full of cake near where I’ve been doing my redstone.”

“Three shulkers! You’re lucky, my dude.”

Doc shook his head. “I’m more curious about who’s been giving out all this cake. It’s not exactly the cheapest food source…”

Their voices drifted off as you continued your stroll.

“I’m going to catch the Cake Bandit in the act!”

Grian was happily explaining his grand plan to you, though you were caught off-guard by his name for the mysterious gift-giver.

“Cake Bandit? That makes it sound like they steal cakes, not deliver them!” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Well, they sneak in here in the middle of the night, like a bandit. And Cake Deliverer doesn’t have the same ring to it.” Grian’s face was serious. “Cake Bandit is a much better name.” His expression flipped to a wide grin faster than you could blink. “And I’m going to catch them when they come tonight! That’s why I’ve come to you- would you like to help me set up the trap?”

Gem held a clipboard, a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She wore a white lab coat- perhaps Cub had lent it to her?

“Now, would you consider yourself to be a tricky person?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I know how to sneak around, but I wouldn’t use that ability to trick people.”

She tapped the clipboard with her pencil. “I see. And you’re sure you don’t have any information on this infamous Cake Bandit, as they’ve been named?”

“No, I don’t.” You shook your head. “Maybe Scar would have some idea? He has the cookie factory, maybe he or Ren branched out to another sweet treat.”

Gem lit up. “That’s a great idea! Ahem. I mean, thank you for your information. It will be taken into consideration for this study.”

Xisuma sighed. “No, Grian. I don’t know who the Cake Bandit is. And even if I did, they obviously want it to remain a secret.”

Doc nodded. “It has been a month. If they wanted us to know who they were, we’d know by now.”

You fidgeted slightly. The Cake Bandit had come up at all of the recent Hermit meetings. 

Xisuma stood from his seat at the table. “I would like to say, whoever it is, you are all too kind. I’m sure everyone here feels the same.”

There were nods and noises of agreement all around. Ren called out “Hear hear!” to a smattering of laughter.

You could feel your face grow a bit warmer. Even if they didn’t know who you were, it felt nice to be appreciated.

You finished packing the last chest. 

A few redstone components, some coal blocks, arranged in a mustache, and some potatoes, of course. 

Closing the lid, you grinned. The click of the latch shutting was your signal, and you quickly lit a firework, taking off into the night sky. The Cake Bandit had struck again.

[dmwrites]

The monolith wasn’t something Grian had really taken a real gander at before. This occurred to him one sunny morning, as he was stretching his wings with a glide around spawn town. He’d spent so much time with the entity and his mega base, and already, it seemed, the hermitsippi and the buildings that lined it were cloaked in nostalgia.

But, back to the monolith. The thing stuck out like a white pencil in the sky as Grian soared over to it and landed on top. He sighed in contentment- the diorite that it was made of was just starting to warm up, and it was quiet up here, with just a touch of wind chimes coming from the giant birch tree nearby. Grian was pretty sure it was called the Whimsical Tree or something. Pretty thing.

“Grian?”

“Oh, hey Bdubs.” Grian turned to smile at his friend. “I didn’t know you were home! Hope you don’t mind me taking a rest up here- it’s so nice.”

Bdubs smiled and came up the stairs the rest of the way. “Not at all, darling Grian. You know you’re welcome to anything. What’s mine is yours and all that.”

“Thanks bud.” Grian closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun. “Honestly, I haven’t seen you around much. Where have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been all over. Traveling, making puzzles, tending to the Tree of Whimsey. Oh, and I got the nicest surprise from Keralis the other day! Do you wanna see?”

“Sure!” Grian opened his eyes and flew down with Bdubs to the ground.

“So, as you know, Lulu was my beautiful and perfect horse from last season. And now I have Mi Amore and Mi Amore 2, which are both wonderful horses, but nothing compared to my Lulu.” Bdubs whispered the last part of the sentence to him. “But, here I was the other day, just feeding the Amores, and Keralis showed up, and you won’t believe who he had in tow! Lulu!” Bdubs pointed down, and Grian found himself looking at a painted pig.

“Oh… wow.” The pig was painted stark white, with the precision of someone who builds hyper-realistic houses, and had the green leather armor Grian remembered Lulu the horse wearing. It even had a saddle. But it was most certainly a pig. Grian looked at Bdubs, trying to see any hint of a joke in his big ol’ eyes. There was nothing but pure joy. “Wow, I can’t believe he just found Lulu like that. She looks so good!” Grian made a mental note to talk to Keralis later about his scamming skills- clearly the man was an expert.

“Oh thank you, she’s such a pretty lady.” Bdubs pat the pig on the rump. “But, not only that, I also found Squawkers!”

“Squawkers?” Grian asked.

“My parrot from last season. I thought he was gone forever, but I found him wandering around spawn, of all places! Silly thing. I keep him inside, though. He’s skittish. Come, let me show you.” He waved Grian inside the monolith. Up a couple of dizzying flights of white stairs, and they came to a small room with a bed and seeds in a bucket. “Look at him! My Squawkers ! He’s looking a bit yellow, maybe from the trip between season worlds, but still, here he is!”

The thing was, that wasn’t a bird sitting on the bed. Sure, maybe if you stretched the truth, you could pretend like a pig was a horse. But sitting on the bed wasn’t an animal at all, but a man. A man that Grian knew all too well.

“Timmy?”

“What? No, no, his name is Squawkers.” Bdubs gently corrected him.

The blonde man was sitting on the bed, completely still and silent. He was full size, the way Grian remembered him, but it was like he was a doll. Except dolls can’t breathe, and he was. Alive, but not fully... here. Yet. Grian’s body felt icy cold all of a sudden. Yet. Why had he thought yet?

“You know what? I feel like something is off with Squawkers. Would you agree?” Bdubs cocked his head at Jimmy.

“Uh, yeah.” Grian choked out. He felt dizzy.

“Yeah…. He looks more like a canary now. Maybe it’s the lighting, I don’t know.” Bdubs tapped his chin to indicate he was thinking.

Grian had only seen Jimmy two times before, and both times ended in gruesome deaths of his friends. Grian knew who Jimmy was, and understood, in a fuzzy way, what this meant. Many things clicked in his mind all at once. Scar with his bow, saying he couldn’t understand why he felt the need to shoot. xB with his own bow, seemingly everywhere, just watching, on edge, all the time. Tango lettting Gem kill him over and over, both of them laughing and covered in his blood. The diamond pillar war in all its bloody glory. How Grian felt more alive there then all of the rest of this season so far combined. He looked to Bdubs, and for a second he wasn’t the handsome moss man, but the battle-worn fighter telling him that Etho loved him.

“No…” Grian whispered. If Jimmy was here, it could only mean one thing. The battle was coming back, the game with one victor was about to begin. And it wasn’t going to happen in a far off land this time. The war was coming here. The bloodlust was about to truly begin, and yes, Jimmy really did look like a canary now.

[lockoutkey]

An Eternity to Wait

@elytra-galaxy you wanted me to continue pearl and grian :)

Grian sat in the library with Pearl, notebook spread out in front of them. Days of research was compiled, all to do with the gods, what they do, their powers, and where they come from. The specific page they were studying was about two fallen ones. The sun god and the moon goddess.

Pearl whistled. "You got a lot of information in here. Where'd you find it all."

Grian looked proud. "The deep web and very old library books."

Pearl flipped the page. "There's not much about us, I mean, the sun and moon gods."

Grian ignored her slipup. They hadn't talked much about the possibility of them being gods, there was too many implications there. They had to be sure. Pearl was skimming the book and Grian was on a site Pearl was very sure was illegal.

"Yeah, from what I can tell, they were some of the original elder gods, like Dinnerbone, Noxite, and Notch. But their names aren't mentioned anywhere. I can't find information about what happened after, so there are no keywords to look up." Grian ran his hands through his hair. "If I could just find one keyword, I'm sure something could come up."

Pearl tapped her pencil. "You said Techno kept coming back or something? Like he had multiple lives?"

"Reincarnation. He basically keeps coming back as a new person. No memories of his previous lives though." Grian explained a rough translation of the system.

"What if that's what they've done?" Pearl asked. "The gods are reincarnating over and over. That's why none of the other gods can find them."

Grian's eyes widened. "Pearl, you're a genius." Grian began furiously typing on his computer. Pearl smiled, waiting for Grian to find whatever he's looking for.

It took a while, but after a few hours, Grian shot out of his seat. Pearl had just started falling asleep, having scanned the entire book once again. "I found it."

Pearl glanced at the page Grian had pulled up.

Although the Sun and Moon gods of old had fallen, they tricked the gods even after their death. The Sun sent his life to find a boy worthy of carrying a fire so bright it would burn those too careless. The moon sent her life to find a girl able to bring a light to darkness, and illuminate the path of those lost.

The unknowing souls of the Sun and Moon, trapped in mortal bodies, were sent into an eternal battle. The gods believed the Sun and Moon gone, sent to the universe in its natural state.

If the god and goddess were to come back, it would cause change for the Pantheon if done too early. The only way to bring back the-

The exerpt cut off. Pearl slammed her hand on the table. "No! How do we get back? This isn't fair. Why do we have to be cursed?"

Grian thought about his run-in with Keralis, all those years ago. "It's going to work out. We'll get what we've lost back, I swear on my life."

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Eight

I don’t know what to say other than I like this one. Rendog enjoyers come get your free angst!

Scott filled the pages of his sketchbook gradually at first. He sat at his window and drew what he saw, focusing on putting shapes on the paper. Many times he was unhappy with the finished product, almost ripping out and throwing away his limited space.

He had to learn to be okay with it. The next time it would be a bit better, and a bit better, until the tree he’d been slaving over didn’t look half bad.

Soon his interests turned to drawing his friends. Their faces would pop up on his pages, drowned in eraser smudges at first. Then it became easy. Like second nature, he could memorize Grian’s knowing grin, Jimmy’s downturned eyes, Martyn’s slightly crooked nose.

He drew the way he saw Ren’s piercing yellow eyes that night, the way they were shadowed by his brow.

It felt better. To have a place where his memories could stay exactly the way he saw them. Scott even pinned some up on the wall of his room.

Soon his supply of paper started dwindling, Martyn told him if he needed more drawing paper to come back and ask him for some. So he did, after Jimmy went to bed and the world was quiet under the snow.

Scott made a trip to the Renchanting base, entering through the tunnel hidden under the mountain. It took him right to the storage area. Which was dark and deserted. Only a clock ticked on the wall, everyone else must have been in the sleeping quarters or back at their bases to fend off the Phantoms.

He took a torch from the “stuff chest” and started making rounds, looking at each storage container. Food, Armor, ores, wood, stone, and redstone. Until there was a wall of chests with people’s names on them.

Everyone in the Red Army had a chest, from left to right there was Ren, Martyn, Etho, Skiz, Impulse, Tango, Joel, and then Scott.

The last chest on the right side, Scott’s name was carved on top. It hadn’t been there before. He placed his hand on the lock, wondering if he should even bother opening it. Someone had cared enough to dedicate a space for him to put things. Under the roof of Dogwarts no less.

His torch flickered and Scott decided he’d spent too long lurking around, so he flipped the lock up and quietly opened the chest. Slowly so it wouldn’t creek.

Inside there was a single stack of drawing paper. Hand-sewn like the one Martyn had given him.

Scott placed the torch down and retrieved the paper. He knew it must have been Martyn. A smile found its way onto his face, and he let it stay there. This time, when nobody was looking.

Blowing out the torch and closing the chest, Scott gathered the sketchbook and decided to just leave through the front. It was almost midnight anyways.

Up the stairs and to the double doors of the enchanting room. The book on the table rose from its position and opened towards him as he walked past. Scott still had his hand on the doorknob when he opened it and stepped out into the frigid night.

Of course he didn’t expect to see anything, so when he did see something he froze in place.

In the spot that Martyn would typically occupy, on the very top of the walls sat Ren. His grey cape was bundled around himself to keep out the cold and his pointed ears were pressed low on his head. He was facing away from Scott.

Huddled on the perch, Ren’s shoulders were shaking. Silently, he cried.

Scott stood in the doorway motionless. He couldn’t believe the scene in front of him. Ren wasn’t one to cry. He was calculating and smart, rarely loosing his temper to even the worst of setbacks. A humorous man in charge of an Army of vagabonds, he never cried. He never expressed so much as a single weakness, he couldn’t afford that.

So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise, not really, that the Red King would save his sorrow for when nobody should be looking. Under the loneliest arm of the Milky Way, coldly gazing down on him. The weight of every star in the sky on his shoulders.

It made him look small.

Scott backed away from the door and ran back to the tunnel he came from, the kind of running you do when you are convinced your worst nightmare is snapping at your heels; and maybe for Scott it was.

He sprinted home without looking back. Trying to shove the image of Ren out the back of his mind.

That night he crept quietly back into bed, doing his best not to disturb Jimmy. Who stirred momentarily before simply turning over.

Scott stared at the arm of the Milky Way through the window until he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Days pressed by, Scott slithered too and from the walls of Dogwarts under the noses of his allies and between Spy Ring meetings. The first page of his new sketchbook lay empty, because whenever his pencil hovered above that damn page all he could see was a man huddled up under a galaxy of stars that would never return his wishes.

So when he was called out on night watch to the Renchanting base, Scott snuck out with his empty sketchbook held close to his chest. He arrived to a sleeping base, aware that his shift would be over in an hour and he would get to go home when the next guard showed up.

He yawned and stared out the window, at the stars above the wall. A pencil came to his hand and he started drawing what he saw. The shape of the wall against the glowing sky. He drew it, but it wasn’t right. The image in his mind came back to the front.

A weeping man holding a million stars on his shaking shoulders, the end of his frayed cape flaring out when the breeze kicked up. Tiny compared to the infinite sky. Scott’s fingers and palm turned black with graphite as he crafted the cosmos onto that paper.

His scribbling and smudging consumed all his thoughts as he focused on making the scene perfect, the pencil dulled and threatened to snap under the pressure.

“Major,” a stern voice came from right behind him.

Scott seized up in his chair, a feeling of terror so pure exploded in his chest that his vision left him for a few seconds. He gasped and turned around with his jaw on the floor.

Behind him was Ren. Clad in his winter jacket, a hand on the back of Scott’s chair. He stared directly into the other’s eyes from behind the dark lenses of his aviators. All the color had gone from his face.

Hoping the Red King hadn’t seen what he was drawing, Scott moved his hand to close the book.

It was too late. Ren had been watching him draw for long enough to know.

“You saw me?” Ren asked, but it was phrased more like a fact. It was.

Scott’s hesitation was enough of an answer. He stared up into Ren’s glasses, reminded of a familiar time. This time was different though, and this time Scott wished he could see behind the lenses.

He nodded and tore his eyes away, it felt intrusive to be staring.

“Ren,” Scott said to the floor, but was dismissed.

“No. Just go home. Now,” the other man ordered with a wavering voice.

Scott didn’t nod, he didn’t look at Ren. He gathered the sketchbook and slammed it shut within five seconds.

He didn’t say goodbye as he fled the walls. Scott ran from Ren, and this time he felt bad about it.

Scott didn’t return to Dogwarts for a week after that. Nobody called him to the night shift, nobody asked him to run any supplies. Maybe he was grateful for that, in the sense that he wouldn’t have to look Ren in the eyes again.

Until one night he couldn’t sleep. The clouds cast a dark blanket over the sky. Scott huffed and crawled out of bed, not bothering to change out of his pajamas. He pulled his boots on and took his coat off the hanger.

A walk is what he told himself he was going on, but really he knew where he was going. He didn’t know why, but for some reason Scott had a feeling he wasn’t the only one that couldn’t sleep.

This time instead of entering Dogwarts through the underground he rounded the front, cresting the hill right in front of Big B’s house. Scott scanned the top of the wall and saw what he was looking for. He shoved his hands in his pockets and entered Dogwarts through the front door.

Scott climbed the ladder and balanced himself as he walked over to Ren, who was sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the wall. His jacket was pulled tightly around him. Scott didn’t greet him when he sat down, Ren had seen him coming a mile away.

Ren didn’t look at him, he breathed in heavily, then sighed out a burst of vapor into the cold air.

“You couldn’t sleep?” Scott started the conversation this time.

“Wouldn’t matter if I could. I’m on night watch,” Ren said after a beat of silence.

Scott nodded, turning his head to the dark sky, “it’d be nicer with some stars, hm?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ren trailed off. He stared at his shoes.

“Okay I’m sorry, I’ll just-“ Scott made to get up and leave but Ren interrupted him.

“No, wait, you can stay,” Ren pulled on the sleeve of Scott’s elbow.

Scott nodded and pulled his knees closer to his chest. A pocket of clouds had moved, creating a window that let the moon gaze upon the Earth.

“Do you stargaze a lot?” Ren asked, this time he looked at Scott.

He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses.

“I try,” Scott replied, “there’s this huge book I found uh, In a village library a while ago. It has everything you can possibly see from down here in it,” he mused.

“Have you ever read one?” Scott asked.

“Uh, an astronomy book?” Ren’s eyes flicked to the left in thought, “I mean I’ve seen them. I haven’t read them. You like astronomy?” he asked.

Scott nodded, then pointed north, into the cloud cover, “you can’t see it now, but Ursa Major would be right over there,” he said.

Ren looked over like he was trying to imagine it, “you like Ursa Major?”

“Easiest to remember,” Scott said plainly.

“I’ll bet. S’ like a namesake,” Ren rested his chin on his palm, “I wish I had a constellation with my name,” his ear twitched on his head.

Scott’s metaphorical ears perked up, “Oh well, there’s one kind of like that,” he said. Ren’s actual ears perked up.

“It’s called Canis Major. It means Great Dog, or Big Dog,” Scott pointed south, “it will always be easy to see on a clear day. One of its stars is called Sirius,” he explained.

Ren nodded, “I’m familiar. Brightest in the sky, right?”

“Yeah. That’s right,” Scott replied.

“Canis Major huh?” Ren repeated. Scott nodded.

“Canis Major, and,” he looked over at Scott, “Scott Major,” Ren nudged the other on the shoulder.

“Right,” Scott said, and suddenly the sky didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

Not when you have a friend to share it with.

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 34- Leyline

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

The hermits rush to save Grian from the precipice of death, and discover the locations of their next great fight. 

Warning: Mentions of blood, wounds, death

______________________________

Hypno runs his finger along the map. “We noticed it here, by the Midnight harbor. The ground was all…” 

Scar takes up the mantle. If there’s one person who knows dirt and landscaping, it’s him. “I saw that the grass was wilted, just a little bit off color from the rest of the area. At first i thought maybe it was just a ditch or something, but it was too perfect a line to be natural.” 

“Scar and his dirt.” Cub chuckles. His fellow convex knows about soil and land better than anyone. It’s how he became such a natural S-Class. 

“Yeah, he ate it too.” Hypno shudders. 

“It didn’t taste right, it didn’t feel right. The ground I mean. It was all dry and crumbled on my tongue.” Scar ignores Hypno’s shaking head, focused on remembering what he, Beef, and Hypno had seen. Trying not to get distracted and lose his train of thought. “I followed the line, and it led straight to-” 

Lightning crackled through the sky, interrupting Scar mid sentence and sending all of the hermits skittering under the tree. But not a cloud is in sight, the blue unmarred by anything except sunlight. Xisuma is the first to check the horizon, to watch for a husk storm or impending invasion. Nothing there either. 

A wave crashes up against the hill, surging over sand and grass. From the sea, four figures appear. Beef transforms into a massive, beastly bull, snorting and ready to charge whoever dares disturb the hermits. Hypno and Xisuma summon their magic, while Scar is still getting over his spooked stumble. 

The strangers run past the guild hall, running directly into the village half of Eremita. Beef takes off after them, chasing the red fabric that quivers in the wind. He lowers his horns, his speed buffeting his brown fur. Intense, tunnel vision only for the angry, vibrant color. Even ignoring the splatters of red on the dirt and grass. Beef is mere inches away from goring the four, til something constricts around one of his horns and pulls. 

“Stop, Beef!” Hypno calls, digging his shoes into the ground and pulling the lasso taut. “It’s our friends, look!” 

Beef blinks, taking a deep breath through his snout and blinking back the feral mindset his form dares to take up. Indeed, xB stands between Beef and the other three. Iskall and Mumbo are soaking wet, continuing without the kipling. And in their arms is Grian, limp and unresponsive. It was his cloak that enticed Beef into charging. The bright red of the fabric mixes with the dark stains of blood. 

The taurus mage returns to his human form. “What’s going on?” 

“Grian’s hurt. Real bad.” xB looks over his shoulder, waiting until the door to the infirmary shuts tight. Xisuma races after, grabbing Joe and Wels. “They called for me to help them cross the sea. We lost him for a few minutes on the way here.” 

Hypno, xB, and Beef watch the other hermits scurry across the island. They were a family, each and every one of them willing to do whatever it takes to help the others. Beef’s voice hitches as he speaks. “L-lost him? Like… you misplaced him, right? What do you mean lost him? He couldn’t have… he didn’t die, right?”

xB’s silence is answer enough. Hypno pulls his hand through his hair, running across the black material that keeps wayward locks from his face. “For being our guild’s only healer, he sure knows how to get himself in harm’s way.” 

“Maybe that’s how he keeps the rest of us safe.” Beef follows after TFC, joining the other hermits in the crowded infirmary. Almost every hermit is in the tiny space, crowding in to try and help stabilize Grian. 

“-killed us. Dolios ambushed us a-and killed Iskall and me.” Mumbo’s stammering cuts through the orders coming from Wels, Joe, and Ren. 

“And then Grian used his archangel aura to revive us.” Iskall adds. “He was already so hurt, all I remember is waking up and seeing him resurrect Mumbo. Then pass out.” 

Everything the hermits were talking about before has been abandoned. Scar’s discovery is the last thing on their mind. Right now, all they can focus on is keeping Grian alive. Ren mimics Grian’s magic, hands glowing with light, and gets to work. Healing the wounds, both internal and external. Wels casts a healing buff, aiding Grian’s body in the process, and Joe writes just about every medical supply the hermits could ever need. 

Xisuma filters out the hermits, until it’s just the necessary bodies filling the small infirmary. TFC, Xisuma, Iskall, Mumbo, and the three that were fighting to keep Grian from slipping away. 

And Scar. He sits in the chair beside Grian’s bed, leg bouncing as he tries to understand what Iskall and Mumbo told him. “Dolios had another crystal? He was using it against you guys?” 

“He lured us in, and attacked us. He was there. He didn’t even flinch at killing.” Mumbo shakes his head. 

“He’s a bastard, and a mega one at that.” Iskall adds. Silence falls over the infirmary, only the sound of Grian’s healing, his shallow breath filling the air between the hermits. 

“Did he mention how he corrupted that crystal? Why?” Scar finally whispers, not taking his eyes off Ren’s glowing hands. He knows that Grian’s healing magic isn’t easy. It’s painful, forcing the body to heal itself. The fact that Grian isn’t even moving worries him. 

“He said it took him weeks to make that thing.” Iskall answers, since Mumbo is too preoccupied watching the procedure. His teeth worry his lip, making the mustache dance on his face. He just wants his friend to be okay. “And...and he said something about a- a creation? That he needed the power for him and his creation.” 

Scar’s brows furrow, deep in thought. Piecing together all the parts of the story. It’s like he’s reading a book in random order, finding scraps of the tale and gluing them to make one full line. “The crystals are sending the stolen magic somewhere. They can’t be holding that much power, they’re like...like…” 

“Like redstone redstone torches.” Mumbo breathes, eyes lighting up. “So there has to be something it’s powering.” 

“And that line of dirt and grass, I think it’s got something to do with the stolen magic. It’s a circuit. A leyline of magic.” Scar crashes backwards in his chair, rolling out and slamming the door out of it’s frame. He returns a second later, holding the map. He lays the parchment over Grian’s legs. It’s not like he’s moving anytime soon anyway. 

“Leylines? Like what the ancient ones used?” Joe picks his head up from battling a roll of gauze. Leylines haven’t been used in eons. No one knows how to tap into their energy. It was magic lost with the ancient civilization, pre-Lairyon. 

“Not exact leylines, but more… artificial ones, I guess. Hand me some charcoal.” Xisuma pulls a pencil from his pockets. Always prepared. Scar snatches the pencil, and begins to draw across the map. Straight lines connecting crystals and husk storms. The more lines that Scar adds, the more apparent that his crazy, wild line of thinking becomes. Lines begin to connect, three hotspots appear. 

“The evernight forest.” Ren breathes, hands drifting back from Grian’s body. 

Scar ignores the whisper, continuing with his work. Another hotspot rises from the straight lines, this time on the other side of the kingdom. TFC shakes his head, as if it was obvious. “The Crystal Mines, of course.” 

One final place, and Xisuma growls from beneath his mask as the lines intersect, right in the broken heart island that is nestled within Lairyon’s moon-shaped continent. “Heartbreak Trench.” 

Scar shakes his head. “The power being stolen by those crystals has to be going to these places. Routing power to these for Dolios to use.” 

“What does he need all of that power for? What could he be using it for?” Iskall looks across the map, noticing something else. “It’s in three corners of Lairyon. North, east, and south. Does that mean there’s one to the west as well?” 

Xisuma traces the lines, but they lead to everywhere and anywhere within the western hemisphere of lairyon. “If there is one, we don’t know where it is. For now, we should go on what we know. We should go in search of these hotspots, follow the leylines.” 

“Sounds like a fun new adventure.” All of the hermits present look down, a weak, aching voice joining the conversation. “Where are we going next?” 

Grian is awake, wincing with only one eye open. Iskall and Mumbo are hovering over him, while Grian observes the white bandages that cross over his body, wrap around his arms. He looks around for his shirt and cloak, relieved to find them in decent condition. Otherwise, BDubs is going to have another sewing job. 

Scar hugs his friend tight, until Grian is practically squeaking from the pain and pressure. “So good to have you back among the living, my man. No dark mage can hold you down for long.” 

“If it means giving Dolios a taste of his own medicine after our battle, I’m in.” Grian smiles, already attempting to sit up. Ready to get back to saving the world. “So…. what wild adventure waits for us now?”

[ceaderblocks]

standing in the ashes of who i used to be

a one shot for @mine-sara-sp ‘s red stone au!!!

Grian couldn’t pinpoint when the changes had started, but he could pinpoint when they got out of hand.

It was a Sahara meeting, as always. It really wasn’t much of a meeting. Iskall and Mumbo were doing some sort of redstone with the sorting system, and Grian was hunched over his notebook, planning rooms for his Haunted Mansion mini-game.

“God damn it!” Iskall cursed and kicked a repeater across the room, shattering the comfortable silence. Mumbo and Grian both jumped.

“Dude,” Grian said, placing his pencil down. “Do you want to take a breather?”

Iskall inhaled sharply, covering his face for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good. I’m not sure what it is lately, but redstone has been making me super angry.”

“Oh, that’s weird,” Mumbo said. “Every time something goes wrong for me I cry. I’ve never cried over redstone before, but this week I’ve lost it a few times.”

“Huh,” Grian said, frowning. Xisuma had been acting weird too- more apathetic then normal. “Maybe it’s something to do with the redstone? I feel fine, but I don’t use redstone.”

Iskall snorted dismissively. “That’s stupid. The redstone is fine.”

Grian hummed. “You’re probably right, I’m just being silly.”

--

Grian didn’t think it was silly when he found Mumbo a few days later weeping over a circuit that didn’t work.

He didn’t think it was silly when Iskall accidently punched a hole in Sahara Now’s wall because a shulker box didn’t load.

Or when Doc gave him an empty look when Grian was asking him about his guardian farm.

When Xisuma brushed off his worries with a dismissive wave of his hand and a “go bother someone else about it.”

Grian didn’t think it was silly at all when he stole every piece of redstone from every circuit, every chest, every shulker box and hid them where no one would find them.

--

Grian sat on the ground in Sahara anxiously, awaiting the confrontation. He coughed harshly into his elbow, his lungs aching. It had been three days since he hid all the redstone. He had been up every night, stealing the pieces that had been mined. Hermit’s were growing angry. He couldn’t stop coughing.

Iskall was the first to arrive, storming into Sahara with a scowl. Mumbo was a close second, already wiping away tears. Grian watched them approach.

“Grian!” Iskall shouted. “Where’d you put it?”

“I can’t tell you,” Grian whispered. Any louder and it’d throw him into another coughing fit. They were getting longer by the minute.

“Where the fuck is it?” Iskall snarled again, grabbing Grian by the collar of his shirt and shoving him against the wall. The movement made Grian dizzy.

“I can’t-“

“TELL ME.”

“Iskall you’re hurting him-“ Mumbo cried out, a sob breaking his sentence.

“I CAN’T TELL YOU!“ Grian shouted back, before dissolving into coughing. Iskall dropped him, and Grian hit the floor, curling into a ball, unable to catch his breath. Tears streamed from his eyes, and he couldn’t breathe or see and he was choking he couldn’t b r e a t h e the coughing wouldn’t stop why can’t it stop he can’t breathe he c a n ‘ t –

--

Grian was bedridden. It had been three weeks since he hid all the redstone. He hadn’t stolen any for a week now, he was too sick. Dizzy when he stood, coughing non-stop and vomiting. Grian was pretty sure he had inhaled redstone. He told himself the red he was coughing was blood. It was nicer to think it was that then the alternative.

Iskall had killed him twice in an effort to find the redstone. Xisuma killed him once, too. He had threatened to ban Grian. Impulse and Doc had torn open his base while he was away, blocks littering the ground and water gushing in form the ocean floor. Mumbo had wept at the foot of his bed, begging for the ore.

Grian hadn’t gave in.

They screamed at him, hurt him and threatened to disown him, but Grian knew the pain of their words was worth it. They would go back to normal if they weren’t around it, and it was worth all the risk. He hadn’t seen anyone in a few days, and he hoped it was because they had given up.

An itch tickled his throat, and Grian held his breath, hoping it would go away. If he coughed he wouldn’t stop, then he’d throw up which would make him dizzy and make him cough more. He hated this illness.

“Grian?” A voice called out, sounding worried. “Are you here?”

Grian tried to keep quiet. He was so, so tired and he didn’t know if he could take anymore interrogating from his friends.

“It’s Scar, are you here?” Scar called out. “I haven’t seen you in a while, are you okay?”

Grian choked on his breath, and the damn cough started. It racked his lungs and Grian bent over at the waist, shoving his head in-between his knees to try and steady his dizzy head.

“You’re sick,” Scar said, and Grian felt a calloused hand rub his back. He hadn’t felt a gentle touch in a long time, and tears flooded his eyes. The coughing didn’t stop. Naseua swirled in his stomach, becoming more violent with every cough.

“B-bucket,” Grian choked out, and Scar obediently grabbed it from the floor beside his bed. Grian grabbed it, his coughs subsiding enough for him to vomit. It was nothing but bile and redstone. Grian couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.

“Jesus Christ,” Scar said, pushing Grian’s sweaty bangs from his forhead. “You’re really sick.”

Grian spit into the bucket, all but collapsing into Scar. The builder adjusted himself to accommodate Grian’s weight.

“I’m not.. not gonna tell you... where it is…” Grian muttered, breathless. He closed his eyes, he was so damn tired. He felt Scar move the bucket back to the floor.

“Is that redstone?” Scar asked, worry apparent in his voice. “In your vomit?”

Grian nodded.

“Shit,” Scar said. “Grian, how much do you have?”

“Not… telling….”

“Grian, it was a bug. We burnt all the bad redstone. We need to burn yours too if you want to get better.” Scar murmured, running a hand through Grian’s hair and wiping some bile from his chin.

Grian wanted to believe him so bad. He chose not to answer instead. He was so tired. It would be so easy to sleep and just not wake up again.

“Grian?” He heard another voice call out. “Grian??”

“We’re in here!” Scar called out.

“I’m dizzy.” Grian muttered. His eyes were closed but the room still spun. He felt light headed and sick. “I might pass out.”

“Please don’t,” Scar said, sounding terrified. “ISKALL! HURRY!”

Grian heard someone land nearby and a curse.

“Oh my god,” Iskall said, and Grian involuntarily winced, remembering what happened the last time Iskall had stopped by.

“He’s badly off,” Scar said, panic in his voice.

“Yeah, he is. Grian, can you look at me?” Iskall asked, voice soft. His voice hadn’t been soft in a long time, and Grian made an effort to turn his head to look at his friend. The movement made him dizzy, and Grian felt consciousness slip away.

--

He woke up without a cough in his throat.

Grian hadn’t felt that in a long time. It was amazing.

His head still hurt, but he no longer felt as sick as before. He could breathe and he felt more coherent. What changed?

“Grian? Are you awake?” Mumbo’s voice floated into his attention.

“Hm?” Grian hummed, turning his head to the side and looking at his friend. No tears.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Mumbo sighed and smiled. “You’ve been out for a few days now. We were worried sick.”

“What happened?” Grian murmured.  

“It was a bug with the new update,” Mumbo said, resting his hand on the back of Grian’s forehead. “Redstone made folks go wack. We burned all of it, and the new update returned it to it’s original state.”

“Go wack…?” Grian asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” Mumbo said with a breathless laugh. “Made me get super sobby, Iskall went flat out insane, Xisuma just didn’t care and it made you very, very sick. You had tons of the stuff, dude.”

“I was saving you from it.” Grian said, trying to wrap his head around the scenario.

“You did good,” A new voice said. Grian turned his head to see Iskall standing at the doorway, holding a bowl of soup. “The redstone exposure dropped enough when you stole it that we could think clearly enough to see something was wrong.”

Iskall placed the bowl on the chest next to Grian’s bed, a sorrowful look coming over his face.

“Grian… I am so, so sorry how I treated you.”

“It’s alright,” Grian said. “You weren’t yourself. I’m just glad everything is back to normal.”

“Me too,” Mumbo laughed, and Iskall smiled in agreement.

Grian smiled, knowing that the worst was behind him and it could only get better from here.