#i love bat mumbo

[jalo-parker]

for the drawing requests, may we have a mumbo jumbo 🥺👉👈

Mumbo !!! Love this constantly anxious looking little fruit bat creature (my mumbo is actually a fruit bat vampire so kinda like Marceline from adventure time but more lame and sad)

He isn't always literally just a bat, only sometimes

[bellflower-goat]

Requests are open 👀 Perhaps my boy Mumbo?

-Curi

mumbo beloved

[pixiemage]

With the next Life Series season on the horizon, I've seen posts arising again about Lizzie and Jimmy and the "canary curse" and all the anger it sparked last season. And on that note, I understand folks not wanting it to "take away from her character", but I'll say this:

Carrying lore and storytelling between characters doesn't erase what was already there. You can story-craft with fake curses and let them "be passed on" without diminishing a character's existing backstory. Hell, if Mumbo had died first during Secret Life instead, nobody would care that people were weaving canary lore about him. If he had died first, there would be "the coal miner has become the canary!!!" posts flying around, and the art would be phenomenal. Hell, Tango went down WITH Jimmy in Double Life, and the canary imagery with him was fantastic. But because it was Lizzie last time, people rioted.

With the way we share lore between everyone so much - the Watchers, for example, and the running "curses" and "patterns" with Grian and his allies, or Scott and his - I love when things are threaded together. I love weaving everyone's stories back and forth between each other. I love the heart put into the theories and the worldbuilding and the artistic inspiration that spawns from every new idea. It's amazing.

It's not harmful to mix canary feathers with fairy wings and see where the complexities of such story ties can take things. The sibling bond between Jimmy and Lizzie in MCYT canon isn't nothing...if people were making art about Lizzie "taking the curse" from a sister instead of a brother nobody would be batting an eye. It's just a piece of story, and a fun familial bond to play around with and see more in. And keeping that piece of the puzzle doesn't diminish the other pieces already on Lizzie's narrative table. These things can coexist, and they can coexist well.

If you're seeing it as shallow and character erasure, then you may be the shallow one if you think that one extra story beat suddenly negates the value of everything else that came before it.

Sincerely, a woman in the fandom who watched Lizzie fall and saw a million layers of potential for storybuilding in it, including the yellow wings and watcher eyes and everything else in the void that came with it.

(And let's be honest, this is all part of a Minecraft roleplay-leaning souped-up Hunger Games series. I think we can ease up on the threats and the anger here, fellas.)

[That being said, fighting over whether someone does or doesn't have a fake Minecraft curse is also just...a bit not cool. It's fun to play with narrative patterns like that, and it's awesome to see what people make from it, but we shouldn't be taking it so seriously that people get hurt. Creative interpretation is there for a reason. Have fun, but play nice. Thanks guys 💕]

[localcanadiancreature62]

My Thoughts on Fiddlestan

Okay you people are literally all or nothing with these mfs,like it's either all gut wretching angst or all tooth rotting fluff. So i raise you,"what if it was both?" aka i made them have a good time but they also have Issues ✨. @misteria247 you might wanna see this one cuz i know you love Fiddlestan lol.

So first things first,their first meeting. They would meet soon after the portal incident when Fidds' sanity is slowly starting to slip from the first several usages of the memory gun and he ends up going to Ford's house after having a vague familiarity with the place as well as a desire to make amends with his friend while he still remembers him,only for him to see Stan at the door. A man wearing his best friend's face. Stan lets the guy in while still keeping the ruse of pretending to be his brother after he just faked his death,trying his hardest to pretend that he knows what Fidds is talking about regarding the portal and Ford's time in college.

A few weeks pass,and Fidds get the slight suspicion that he's not actually talking to Ford as "Ford" brushes off his science-y ramblings with "I don't understand" or "I'm too tired to hear about it maybe later",when he knew that the real Ford would know exactly what he's talking about regarding his ideas for modern computers or Schrodinger's cat as well as gladly ramble along with him even if it's 2am at the time instead of ignoring it. He also realizes that "Ford" surprisingly knows nothing about anomalies and either tries to shoo creatures away or just beats the hell out of them rather than studying them whenever they have an encounter with gnomes or something,plus the fact that he gets jumpy whenever an eye-bat appears. Fidds is still sane enough to notice these "tells" and so he confronts the man about it despite Stan already being nervous about not being able to keep up the act. Stan decides to come clean after the southern man literally backed him into a corner while interrogating him about who he is and where the real Stanford is,he explains the truth about Ford's disappearance and that he's trying to fix the portal while having no idea about how his brother's science mumbo jumbo works. Fidds' expression of anger and fear changes into guilt sympathy and even intrigue as he regrets trying to aggressively gouge the man for answers,when the grifter turned out to care about Ford all along instead of selfishly stealing his life for success. He wondered about Stan's relation to Ford and the man explains that he's Ford's twin brother and that they had a rough patch in their brotherly relationship which lead to this whole mess. Fidds then offers to help fix the portal since he's the one who co built it and Stan couldn't be more than happy,although with the condition of no more lies as that impersonation fiasco genuinely scared him which Stan agrees to. They didn't get along at first with Stan's stubborn personality and tendency to tease others at random while Fidds was just really tired and he wanted to get Ford back so that he can get out of this whole mess,but they managed.

Throughout the building of the portal,the two begin to bond regarding their history with Ford and how the man inadvertently screwed them over with his ego. Then talking about how they always felt inferior in comparison to everyone else (Stan with Ford,Fidds with his rough and tumble ranch family who roughhoused constantly while he was a scrawny nerd),discovering that they weren't so different as they thought. Stan ends up taking his partnership with Fiddleford more seriously as he soon realizes that they only have each other,while Fidds starts to humor Stan's teasing and occasional goofing off since he doesn't have anyone else to turn to with Emma may and Tate still refusing contact from him ever since the divorce (just so that Fidds wouldn't yknow. cheat on his wife). They soon become friends who often look out for each other with Stan trying to stop Fidds from overworking himself while Fidds teaches Stan about quantum physics as he tries really hard to understand despite being the "dumb" twin.

Fidds' use of the memory gun becomes less frequent as he didn't have a reason to blast himself with it anymore due to finally having someone that understands his troubles with Ford and the darn triangle feller,no longer feeling as though he had to forget everything as he had someone to talk to about all of this (i mean in canon he wouldn't never went insane if Ford fucking talked to him and explained why he's still going through with the portal with his desperate desire for approval). Stan sees his steadfast love and support be appreciated by someone besides his ungrateful brother,while Fidds sees his unwavering loyalty and handmade gifts be cherished by someone who cares rather than ignored by his egotistical friend.

The fact that the two found someone who cared even when they have their own troubles means a lot to them,this steadfast love and concern was what made Fidds and Stan slowly fall for each other. Stan finally found someone who appreciates him and sees him as worthy even with his many mistakes or occasional stupidity while Fidds finally found someone who won't waste his loyalty and kindness in favor of their own selfish wishes (*cough* Ford *cough*). They're finally happy,after dealing with so much pain. They had their happy ending,or did they? 😏.

While they WERE in a healthy and loving relationship,things weren't all sunshine and rainbows. Stan outright refuses to talk about his problems in fear of being a burden to his nerd plus the emotional walls he put up were too strong even when he tries to be open toward the southern man which always ends in him not wanting to talk about it,meanwhile Fidds opts to metaphorically run away from his issues by using the memory gun to forget every argument and misunderstanding he had with the drifter (which were mostly caused by the memory gun in the first place). Whenever they have a problem with something that the other does that isn't related to the portal,they don't set boundaries they don't talk about it they don't confront the other about it,they do NOTHING.

Fidds slowly starts to go insane again as he starts forgetting about Stan at times with his use of the memory gun whenever they have an argument which is a LOT of arguments as every couple doesn't always agree with each other,he lashes out and has a paranoia episode over either imagining Stan being a stranger that wants to hurt him or him being Ford that wants to take revenge on him for quitting the project which obviously upsets the drifter but he doesn't do anything about it as he cannot afford to lose the one thing he has left because of his dumb problems (little does he know,is that he's already doing it. he's already losing Fidds cuz of his issues). Stan on the other hand,starts treating Fiddleford with the same codependency that he gave Ford with him expecting the hillbilly to always be there for him and always put HIS interests at heart despite the man having his own wants and needs with his Mcgucket Labs project. Thus Fidds is being taken for granted again while Stan is confused and angry over why this hick is ignoring him and trying to abandon him like Ford did (Stanley your brother issues are showing).

It only gets worse in the moments culminating to Fidds' insanity,where Stan doesn't even know who his hillbilly partner anymore while Fidds is completely unaware of the torment he's putting Stan through with his erratic behavior and amnesiac ramblings. Stan was there for the tapes,he was behind the camera with every transition as the southern man told him it was a little experiment regarding the memory gun and he believed that at first only to soon realize that Fidds was literally frying his own brain with that gun after reading his notes about the electricity that erases the memories plus the side effects of prolonged use. By the time Fidds had that car crash,he quit the project again and stopped seeing Stan as he left the drifter alone to fix the portal by himself albeit with more knowledge of how it works due to the various quantum mechanics lessons the man drilled into him. He just needed to figure out the elaborate codes to actually activate it. Stan missed Fidds as he was guilty about their last interaction being an argument about the memory gun and even encountered him but with a new red robe while the man went on and on about some memory cult,but he knew that the man is too far gone for him to make amends with.

Stan then ended up using Fidds' Mcgucket Labs money to support himself but then he realized that it won't be enough as that business was just a start up gig that didn't had the chance to become successful due to the portal and the memory gun,so he had to come up with another way to survive all alone. Then he went to the Dusk 2 Dawn convenience store and saw that everyone was interested in Ford's weird mad scientist house,taking everyone there as he saw that people's interest in the freaky things in that house would make great revenue for him. The Mystery Shack (originally the Murder Hut) was born,and Stan had finally left his life of being a miserable grifter behind. However.. he still saw his Fiddleford rummage in the trash or make killer robots in the news sometimes. He yearns for what could've been yet he shakes his head as he knew what he had with the nerd was currently unsalvageable in his current insane state.

[rosenbergamot]

“Gri, how do you feel about Mumbo?” Scar asks one day as they’re cuddling against one another.

Scar’s legs have been hurting him more than usual, so Grian is taking it upon himself to massage them. He’s on the calves right now, planning very stealthily and sneakily to move up from calf to thigh to somewhere much less PG than this. He stops his massaging, fixes Scar with a look. 

“Why do you ask?” 

His grin is bright. “Oh, well… I was just thinking about him. He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?”

He could tell from his tone where this was going to go. The way his face starts to warm up is indicative of his answer, but he knows that Scar likes it when he actually tells him things even if he can always understand otherwise. “Well… of course he is. He’s Mumbo.” 

Scar leans in closer, urging him on with a nod. “Mhm? And?”

“And-- and I really like Mumbo, Scar. You know this.” 

“I do, I do!” He waves his hand. “But how much do you like Mumbo?” 

This makes him continue his massaging, if only to get away from those knowing eyes. Why now of all times does he bring this up? “I like him a lot, Scar.”

He bats his pretty eyes at him, “as much as me, Grian?” 

Deciding not to give that a response, he continues to talk. “I mean, I’ve known him for a long time, and I’ve always felt differently towards him. He’s… special to me. I can’t imagine my life without him. Can you imagine me without Mumbo? It’s sacrilegious, Scar! I wouldn’t survive! Heck, he wouldn’t survive!”

“Gri…” Scar’s voice is soft and syrupy. He reaches up to card a hand through his hair. That forces his eyes away from his legs, up to his face, and the way he smiles makes him melt. He leans into the touch. “Say, I like Mumbo a lot too. A lot a lot.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “How about we break the question to him?”

His mouth falls open. “You like him too?”

“Grian! Have you seen the way I look at him?” 

Oh. Now that he’s thinking about it, he absolutely has. Scar looks at Mumbo with a certain kind of reverence, a shine in his eyes, a longing that he hasn’t seen since the desert, since the two of them would lay centimetres apart underneath the desert moon. For having experienced that firsthand, he sure did forget what it looked like.

Oh, plus he also looks like he wants to devour Mumbo sometimes, a fact which he had attributed to him being a vex rather then him being insanely attracted to him. God. How much has he been missing?

“Huh.” And just like that, a smile starts to form on his face. “Let’s do it, then!” 

Scar cheers and pumps his fist, the movement jostling their comfortable position. He leans over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, warm and solid and sweet. “I didn’t think you were ever going to go for him! So proud of you, G.” 

He moves to kiss him again and Grian stops him with a hand to his chest. Scar pouts. He tries to put on as serious a face as he can muster. It doesn't really work. “Yeah, yeah, that’s all well and good, but how about we talk about you and Cub now?” 

Scar straightens up immediately, face screwing into something that Grian can only describe as dread. He checks his empty wrist, makes an astonished face. “Oh, goodness, would you look at that! I’m late for… for a meeting!” He rolls off of Grian, falls to the ground with a solid thunk. “And my legs feel so much better, Gri! It’s like magic. You’re so good at massaging them and I love you so much and I can't wait to have Mumbo be with us and-- goodbye have a good time!” 

He’s out the door before Grian can say anything to him.

That’s okay. He’ll get him next time. 

[randomheadcanons1234]

Even more random hermitcraft headcanons that I won’t elaborate

Bdubs He was once sick of getting told that he was short and wore high heels for the day at the end he had a concussion, a broken ankle and a promise to never where high heels again

Cub has replaced some of his teeth with metal

Docm has dressed up as a princess on multiple occasions for Doccy

Etho used to run up to people scare them and run away again. That stopped when he got shot by a gun, when he tried to pull this with Zedaph

False is the designated driver because she somehow knows every shortcut

Gem has killed gods before

Grian is that type of person who says that they can’t handle horror but fall asleep to true crime stories

Hypno used to sell Ballons, he can make animals out of them

Impulse has venomous claws, he has accidentally poisoned some of his friends because of this, he feels really guilty

Iskall builds really weird things for fun like a robot who has legs for hands, which has pink hair and talks about waffles. The hermits are concerned

Jevin can’t swim, he can float but if he tries to move he sinks

One time when joe was drunk he showed up in a god meeting and started to make yo mama jokes at them, many cried

Keralis has all the gossip even from servers where he isn’t even on

Mumbo has gotten drunk only once and that was the they he found himself in his base surrounded by Armourstands that had their legs cut off. And had the heads of his friends

Pearl eats cods in front of Grian

Ren has a collection of baby photos of his fellow hermits, no one knows how he got them

Scar has made flower crowns for all the hermits

Skizz used to be choir kid

Joel and Lizzie once came to a party where Joel wore a sparkly pink dress and Lizzie a green suit

When stress doesn’t know a word she just makes one up

For some reason tango loves bats

The reason why Beef goes by Beef is because middle school he only brought beef to school. After a while the other students and even the teachers started to call him Beef and that stuck. Now he just goes by Beef

Wels knows galactic

When Xb used to be a kid he ate dirt

Xisuma never takes his helmet off, so the hermits try to take it off themself all their plans fail though and they still don’t know how he looks

Zedaph used to be a part of the creepy pasta fandom

Cleo is the best dancer on hermitcraft

[ashenquill]

It's time to info dump about my character headcanons some moreeeee I love spreading my agenda on the internet hehe

Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo is one of those ambiguous types where you can't tell if he's actually a hybrid or not? Like, there's something a little bit... off about him. Something distinctly non-human. Also he's a really weird guy, which makes even less sense, because at this point hybrids are like 60% of the population, and nobody bats(ha) an eye at them anymore, so it's not like he needs to hide it. But he is, in fact, secretly a vampire. Or at least, he's 1/16th vampire or something like that. He just remembers this one guy named Vlad who he refused to believe was actually his great-grandpa because he's literally, like thirty? How on Earth would he have been old enough to father children with children with children? Mumbo started believing it when he saw him again ten years later and he hadn't changed in the slightest. Suddenly, the strict nobody open the curtains rule made a lot more sense.

Now, even though Mumbo is technically a vampire, his family is primarily human. The only reason they even have vampiric origins is because Great-grandpa Vlad got turned at the ripe age of 27, and wasn't about to abandon his wife over his new and very serious garlic allergy. She thought it was all one big prank he was pulling to get out of working on the farm, but after twenty years and seven kids, she realized that being a stay-at-home dad was definitely not taking the toll it should.

Mumbo and his immediate family have retained a few of the traits they inherited from Vlad, but it manifests in very mild coincidences. His mom is allergic to garlic and his dad has a strange Scarland-Princess-like affiliation with bats. Mumbo, meanwhile, really got the short end of the stick, as he can't expose his shoulders to sunlight without them miraculously burning (he's gone through more bottles of M-77 brand sunscreen than he'd care to quantify). Not to mention the insomnia! He'd be lucky to get two hours of sleep on an average night, and the fact that the only affect it really has on him is making his eyes look baggy is truly an injustice. Wasn't insomnia supposed to cause other serious health problems? How could he even complain about it if he wasn't constantly overtired? Rather inconvenient, that.

Don't ask my why I have so much lore for this guy when I don't even write him that often. It's just the Mumbo Jumbo allure, I guess

Here's some other fun facts:

Smells like iron/copper (metallic)

Book smart - special knowledge of redstone

Likes: cloud gazing, embroidery, old westerns/duels/guns, rubix cubes (only to look at though, bro can’t solve them for shit)

Dislikes: designing floor plans, social interaction, eye contact

Passions: philanthropy, travel

Habits/other details: Super fidgety like holy shit he never stops moving, picks at his nails and has lots of scabs & hangnails bc of it, he is littered with cuts and bruises of unknown origin, also usually covered in redstone & he mistakes his blood for it half the time, can’t tell if he’s ADHD, ASD, or both (deffo both)

Reactive to their environment - does not like to be around danger most of the time, would rather watch from afar, would rather not even watch tyvm, too bad he’s always a victim, #easytarget, your honor he’s just a wet cat

Special, plot-relevant skills: good w/ redstone, rich asf

Insomniac, also has RLS, always tired but it’s not very obvious, mostly just has dumb blonde moments, his intelligence would be 10% more if he actually slept, what the heck Vlad why'd you have to get bit by a vampire

[songbirdsanctuary]

Hermitcraft Halloween fic.

Happy Halloween! I almost ran out of time to write this lol.

The art below is by @nickle-moth. Thank you for making that drawing! I love it so much! <3

Stress lifted a Halloween banner, holding it up as False balanced carefully on the ladder above her. False leaned forward, her feathers soft and faintly ticklish as they brushed Stress’s cheek, causing her to stifle a sneeze, her eyes watering slightly. False chuckled, a quiet, breathy sound, as she carefully used her clawed fingers to pin the fabric into place.

"There," False murmured as she secured the last corner, giving the banner a small, approving pat. "How’s it look from down there?"

Stress stepped back, hands on her hips, her head tilted thoughtfully as she inspected the banner's alignment. “I ‘fink it’s even,” she declared with a grin, glancing back up at False, who was already climbing down the ladder, wings folding gracefully behind her.

False nodded, pleased, and glanced around the room. The decorations were coming along nicely, casting a spooky charm over the space. With a quick wave, she made her way over to where Wels was in the midst of hanging plastic bats and cobwebs, his brow furrowed in concentration. False gave a small hop, spreading her wings as she lifted herself to his level to assist, reaching out to straighten a bat that had twisted the wrong way.

Meanwhile, Stress wandered over to a corner of the room where Iskall sat cross-legged on the floor, engrossed in carving a particularly mischievous face into a white pumpkin. The pumpkin’s grin was wickedly sharp, its eyes narrowed in an impish stare.

“Mind if I join ya?” Stress asked, plopping down beside him.

He glanced up, a faint smirk touching his lips. "Not at all." He pushed a pumpkin her way, along with a carving tool, the blade gleaming in the dim light.

She took the tools, examining the smooth, round pumpkin in her hands. “Got any requests?” she asked with a playful raise of her eyebrows.

Iskall tilted his head thoughtfully, looking at the pumpkin Stress held up. “How about a surprised one?” he suggested, his eyes sparking with amusement. “It’ll look perfect in the middle of some others making scary faces, like it’s completely spooked.” He made a wide-eyed expression, leaning back in exaggerated shock. Stress chuckled at his antics, already picturing the pumpkin’s startled face among the others.

With a grin, she set to work, carefully carving large, rounded eyes and a gaping mouth into the pumpkin, giving it a perfectly panicked expression. Every few cuts, she glanced over at Iskall, who was now carving a sly grin on a new pumpkin with meticulous care. They exchanged stories of past Halloweens, each memory more absurd than the last, their laughter blending with the cheerful bustle around them.

Across the room, Mumbo was busy smoothing out tablecloths over rows of tables set for the gathering, making sure each one was even and neatly draped. He glanced over at Grian, who was fidgeting with a string of ghost lights, absently wrapping and unwrapping them around his fingers. Mumbo couldn’t help but notice that Grian’s usual cheerful, animated personality seemed slightly dulled tonight, his shoulders tense and eyes occasionally darting around the room as if he were on high alert.

Grian had been a part of Hermitcraft for a few seasons now, joining back in Season 6, and by Season 8, Mumbo had seen him grow comfortable with the Hermits. But Halloween always seemed to bring out this subtle tension in Grian that Mumbo couldn’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the season's spooky atmosphere, or maybe it was something else entirely.

He remembered the last Halloween party clearly. Ren and Docm had gotten into a playful, pretend brawl, wrestling and laughing as the other Hermits cheered them on. But while everyone else seemed to enjoy the rowdy banter, Mumbo recalled how Grian had stiffened, his face tight with worry, as if anticipating a turn for the worse. The tension in Grian’s shoulders only faded when the brawl ended and everyone went back to their own stuff and laughing.

As much as Mumbo wanted to ask Grian about it, he held back. He knew Grian wasn’t one to open up easily, especially about things that clearly weighed on him. They had a solid friendship, one filled with late-night builds, laughter, and trust. But some barriers took time to break down. Mumbo adjusted a corner of the tablecloth, silently resolving that if Grian ever wanted to talk, he’d be there to listen. For now, though, he wouldn’t push. Instead, he offered Grian a smile, hoping to ease some of the worry clouding his friend’s eyes.

“Need any help with those lights?” Mumbo asked, nudging him gently.

Grian blinked, snapping back from whatever had him distracted. “Oh—uh, yeah, actually.” He grinned, handing one end of the lights over, and the two of them began stringing it along the edge of the table, Grian’s shoulders relaxing a bit more as they worked side-by-side.

As the Hermits put the finishing touches on the decorations, excitement buzzed through the room. They stepped back to admire their work before heading out to change into their costumes. The big room was bathed in dim, flickering light, casting shadows on the walls from the fake cobwebs and skeletal decorations. Plastic bats dangled from the ceiling, while carved pumpkins lined the tables, their grinning faces casting an orange glow.

Docm was the first to arrive back, about an hour before the main gathering. Dressed as a mad scientist, complete with a white lab coat, oversized goggles, and wild, spiky hair, he grinned with satisfaction as he switched on the colored lights, filling the room with an eerie, otherworldly glow.

Xisuma entered soon after, wearing a carefully crafted Enderman suit, the dark fabric stretched over his frame with splatters of fake blood that looked ominously real. His glowing purple eyes scanned the room as he walked around, double-checking each setup to ensure everything was working smoothly.

The front doors creaked open, and Zedaph and Tango entered, each carrying large containers brimming with snacks, sandwiches, and treats for the event. They carefully set the containers on the tables, arranging them so the Halloween-themed tablecloths and decorations framed the food perfectly. Xisuma joined them, lending a hand as they went back and forth to bring in the rest of the party spread. With each trip, the tables became laden with everything from spider-shaped cookies and caramel apples to bowls of punch with floating ice hands.

Once the food was all set up, Zedaph and Tango shared a quick glance and a smile. They still needed to put on their costumes, and with a nod to Xisuma, they hurried back to get dressed. Xisuma remained behind, meticulously arranging the snacks and drinks, adding little finishing touches like fake cobwebs stretched between the punch bowl and a few carefully placed gummy spiders scattered among the snacks.

As the clock inched closer to midnight, the room transformed into a hauntingly festive scene. The fog machines puffed out thick layers of mist, colored lights reflecting off them and casting an ethereal, ghostly glow throughout the room.

Some of the Hermits arrived a little early, excited to see the spooky setup before everyone else filtered in. Wels strode through the doors first, dressed as a dark knight, his armor glinting under the flickering lights. His red-tail hawk wings were draped in fake cobwebs, little plastic spiders catching the light as they dangled from the webbing.

Not long after, Ren entered, also dressed as a mad scientist to match Docm, though his costume had a slight twist—Ren's coat was splattered with glowing green "chemicals," and his goggles had a frenzied, chaotic twist, with one cracked lens. The two mad scientists grinned as they exchanged mock-evil laughs, discussing their "plans for world domination" as they admired each other’s costumes.

Then Stress floated in, wearing a striking witch’s outfit. Instead of the traditional gnarled and haggard look, her witch costume was almost ethereal; a cascade of dark fabric swept behind her like mist, and her crown of wilted flowers glowed faintly in the dim light. She looked enchanting rather than frightening, her soft curls framing her face under the flower crown.

Cleo was next, her costume grabbing everyone’s attention as she walked in, dressed as Medusa. Fake, but incredibly lifelike, green snakes coiled around her head, blending seamlessly with her natural hair color. A crown of twisted thorns added a sinister touch, and on her shoulders sat miniature statues of animals that looked as though they’d been turned to stone—an owl, a lizard, and a small fox. Each had a hauntingly realistic texture, as if Cleo had truly petrified them.

Just behind her, Joe Hills entered with a playful grin, dressed as a journalist who had fallen victim to Cleo’s petrifying gaze. Half of his face and one of his arms were covered in gray, stone-like makeup, giving him the appearance of being halfway turned to stone. He carried a notepad with mock-interview questions scribbled on it, the pencil still held awkwardly in his stone-covered hand.

They gathered near the tables, admiring one another’s costumes and the setup.

More Hermits trickled in as midnight crept closer, adding to the eerie ambiance that filled the fog-drenched room. Scar rushed in, a bit later than he’d planned, but his arrival turned heads immediately. He was dressed as a werewolf, though his costume leaned more toward a mischievous, cat-like version, with sleek black fur patches. His face was painted with whiskers and fierce yellow eye contacts, and he had a glint of mischief in his grin. Balancing a large cake in his arms, he maneuvered carefully, trying not to smudge the vibrant orange and purple frosting that glowed under the black lights, making the cake look as if it were lit from within.

Impulse walked in right behind Scar, his costume just as eye-catching. Thick metal chains wrapped around his dragon-like wings, and ropes crisscrossed his shoulders and chest, making him appear as though he were a powerful dragon that had just broken free from captivity. His face was shadowed with charcoal to give a smudged, smoky look. In one hand, he carried a giant pumpkin pie, the golden crust perfectly flaked, and he placed it carefully beside Scar’s cake on the table.

Zedaph entered shortly afterward, his costume taking a dark twist on his natural sheep features. He was dressed as a goat demon, with red, curled horn attachments blending seamlessly with his shorter, natural horns. His face was painted with shadows around his eyes, giving them a haunting intensity, and he wore a tattered, hooded cloak that trailed behind him as he moved. Zedaph’s costume made him look both intimidating and mischievous, his every step purposeful as he strode across the room, stopping to admire the setup with an approving nod.

Tango followed close behind, his costume just as dramatic. He wore ragged white and black fabric that draped around him in layers, giving him an ethereal, ghostly appearance. The edges of the cloth had been charred to black, giving him the look of a spirit wreathed in flames, and faint embers seemed to glow around his hands and face, flickering like ghostly fire in the dim lighting. He drifted into the room with a slow, haunting gait, playing up the ghostly effect as he passed by his friends, who laughed and shivered at the spookiness.

They joined the rest of the Hermits gathered near the tables, where the food and drinks were arranged with meticulous care. Scar placed his cake proudly on display, glancing around to see if anyone noticed the cake’s faint shimmer in the dark, while Impulse set the pumpkin pie nearby, its warm cinnamon scent filling the air. Zedaph admired his work from a distance, pleased to see how the setup added to the chilling scene of the room.

As with most Hermit gatherings, there was some alcohol, though it was kept light—just enough for those who wanted a sip to enjoy the flavors, but never anything too strong. Most of the Hermits preferred to keep a clear head, savoring the laughter and camaraderie that came more easily when sober.

Partys are better sober then drunk.

Mumbo arrived next, dressed in an impressively classic vampire costume, complete with a dark cloak lined in red satin and a pair of plastic fangs. He wore dark makeup under his eyes to give himself a slightly undead look, which contrasted humorously with his usual, cheerful demeanor. Close behind him was Grian, who seemed just a bit more tense than usual, keeping near Mumbo like a shadow. His costume was simpler—just a headband with small, curved devil horns—but it suited him in its subtlety, the red adding a playful touch to his nervous energy.

Pearl and Gem entered shortly afterward, their costumes drawing appreciative glances. Gem’s costume was intricate and striking; she was dressed as a siren, her skin painted with shimmering blue scales that faded into a fiery red toward her hands and face. She had rings and piercings decorating her ears and nose, adding a wild, mystical edge. To top it off, long, glowing angler-like lights extended from a headpiece that arched over her head, cleverly camouflaging her natural deer horns while casting an eerie, oceanic glow around her.

Pearl’s costume, though simpler, was equally enchanting. Her eyes had a mesmerizing look, thanks to contacts that made her irises look like swirling galaxies, and she wore a cape patterned to resemble deep space, with stars and nebulae scattered across it in glistening colors. The effect was otherworldly, as though she herself had stepped out from the cosmos.

The two of them exchanged laughs as they caught sight of each other’s costumes, and they moved toward the group gathering near the snack table. Scar waved them over enthusiastically, gesturing to the glowing cake he’d brought, and Impulse held up the pumpkin pie with pride, a smirk on his face. The room was now buzzing with life as everyone admired the costumes and decorations, casting glances at each other’s outfits with wide grins.

Xisuma drifted around the room, ensuring the food and drinks were well-stocked and rearranging any decorations that had shifted slightly. He wore a proud smile as he watched the Hermits gather, the fog machines now filling the room with a rolling mist that wrapped around their ankles and made the colored lights look even more haunting.

Iskall, transformed into a ghoulish slime monster with bright green goo dripping down his costume and textured, glistening scales along his arms, strolled over to the snack table. He grabbed a small sandwich shaped like a pumpkin, the orange-tinted bread and carved smile bringing a grin to his face. He took a bite, letting out an exaggerated "Mmm!" as he enjoyed the fun twist on his snack.

Nearby, Impulse made his way to where Tango and Zedaph were seated, balancing a small plate with a few slices of cake. He handed each of them a piece, smiling as Tango’s eyes lit up at the glowing frosting and Zedaph eagerly took a large bite, smearing a bit of icing on his nose in the process. They all laughed, the sound blending into the lively murmur filling the room.

Cub sat just a few feet away, dressed in an elaborate Egyptian costume that called back to the ancient-themed builds from his earlier season. His tunic, adorned with gold trim and rich, intricate designs, seemed to glint in the light. He sipped his drink with a relaxed smile, enjoying the nods to nostalgia the party brought with it. Beside him, Scar, still adjusting his were-cat costume’s furry ears, clinked glasses with Cub. “Cheers to spooks and laughs, my friend!” Scar toasted, his voice warm and full of the energy he always brought to gatherings.

Across the room, Gem and Pearl were caught up in their own world. They spun and twirled to the beat of a fun, upbeat song playing softly in the background. Gem’s siren tail, while stunning, was proving a challenge to maneuver, and she stumbled with a laugh as Pearl nearly tripped over her space cape. Every slip-up only made them laugh harder, clutching each other’s arms as they regained their balance and broke into another round of clumsy dance moves, their laughter echoing across the room.

Meanwhile, Joe was putting on an entertaining show as he wandered over to where Ren and Docm stood, still deep in their roles as mad scientists. Joe raised an eyebrow in mock seriousness, holding out a small notepad and pretending to jot down notes as he asked them “important questions” about their “experiments.” Ren, never one to miss a chance for drama, put on an exaggerated accent and launched into a wild explanation about “secret formulas and forbidden elixirs,” complete with hand gestures and wild-eyed expressions. Docm played along with a sly grin, nodding with a conspiratorial air. Ren’s mad scientist persona complete with a few “muhahaha!” laughs thrown in for good measure.

Xisuma drifted through the room, enjoying the sight of everyone so immersed in the festivities. The fog machines were working overtime now, giving the room a thick, misty ambiance that seemed to transform every Hermit into a figure of mystery. He made his way over to check on the snacks, making sure everything was in place. The pumpkins carved with different faces—surprised, spooky, and silly—added to the atmosphere, casting dancing shadows across the floor.

A few of the Hermits, getting caught up in the spirit of Halloween, began telling ghost stories in a corner, the flickering lights casting ominous shadows as they leaned in close, speaking in hushed voices and letting out sudden gasps to startle one another.

Mumbo had stopped by False, who was dressed in a strange yet oddly put-together costume—a professional-looking uniform splattered with fake blood, paired with a sharp, prop knife in her hand and black and white rabbit ears perched atop her head. She had proudly claimed the ensemble was meant to represent an "insane cereal killer,” with a wink and a grin that suited her playful spirit. Mumbo chuckled at her interpretation, the two of them sharing a laugh over the imaginative costumes everyone had managed to pull together. But as he finished their conversation, he glanced around to locate Grian, who had stayed close to him most of the night.

To Mumbo’s surprise, Grian had wandered to the other side of the room. He was clutching a cup of something and seemed preoccupied with a fruit salad he’d picked up, nibbling absentmindedly while staring into the middle distance. He looked a little lost, his usual spark dulled as he kept his eyes down.

Mumbo walked over, easing into the seat beside him. “Hey,” he said softly, giving Grian a warm smile. “How are you doing?”

Grian glanced up, a bit startled, and after a second he held out his cup. “Could you… refill this?” His voice was quiet, almost distant.

Mumbo took the cup but didn’t move, he knew it was alcohol by the smell. “How many cups have you had tonight?” he asked gently, hoping not to make Grian defensive.

Grian froze, his fingers still fiddling with the fruit on his plate. “One…?” he ventured, though the way he said it lacked any hint of conviction. Mumbo raised an eyebrow, and Grian sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Alright, four.”

Mumbo gave him a sympathetic look. He knew Grian wasn’t one to drink much, especially not at these parties. He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice. “I know it’s not strong alcohol, Grian… but something’s obviously on your mind.”

Grian stayed silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed somewhere distant before he finally murmured, “I like Halloween, but… it’s not the best time for me.”

Mumbo tilted his head, sensing the weight behind Grian’s words. “How come?” he asked, his voice gentle. Grian didn’t respond right away, only tapping the empty cup he’d handed Mumbo earlier, his fingers idly tracing its rim.

Mumbo sighed softly, understanding that whatever was on Grian’s mind wasn’t easy to put into words. He didn’t want to push him. “I’ll get you another drink,” he offered, “but nothing alcoholic this time. Would you prefer water, soda, or maybe some punch?”

Grian hesitated, then looked up at Mumbo with a faint smile. “Water… and a few figs, if there’s any left,” he added, gesturing toward the fruit bowl with a slight lift of his chin.

With a reassuring nod, Mumbo stood up and made his way over to the refreshment table. He poured a cool glass of water and took his time selecting a few of the best figs from the bowl, making sure they were ripe and fresh. On his way back, he noticed the subtle way Grian’s shoulders had relaxed, as though just knowing someone cared had lightened his load a little. He returned, setting the water and figs down in front of Grian.

“Here you go. No alcohol, as promised,” Mumbo said softly, taking a seat beside him again. Grian glanced at him, a flicker of gratitude in his expression as he reached for a fig. He took a small bite, and for a brief second, he seemed more at ease, as though the familiar taste brought him a bit of comfort.

They sat in comfortable silence, Mumbo offering his steady presence as Grian seemed to sink deeper into his thoughts.

Back in the middle of the room, where Gem and Pearl were still laughing and stumbling through their dance attempts, Cleo sauntered over with a mischievous glint in her eye. Just as Pearl tripped over her cape yet again, Cleo smoothly caught her mid-fall, pulling her from Gem’s arms and twirling her dramatically across the floor. Pearl’s laughter died into a squeak as Cleo dipped her low, their faces only inches apart, Cleo’s smirk sending a blush up Pearl’s cheeks.

“Well, look who’s caught herself a dance partner,” Cleo teased, her voice low and playful. Pearl’s face went beet red, her hands gripping Cleo’s arms to steady herself. Without warning, Cleo let go, leaving Pearl to plop unceremoniously onto her backside, still red-faced as Cleo straightened and confidently strode away. Gem was already there, helping Pearl up, her own laughter bubbling out as Pearl regained her footing. As the initial fluster wore off, Pearl dissolved into laughter too, joining Gem as they clutched each other, barely able to breathe from laughing so hard.

Nearby, Zedaph, who had been watching the antics, caught the infectious energy and made his way over to Impulse and Tango. With an excited grin, he pulled both of them into the middle of the room, determined to spark some more fun. “Come on, let’s show them what real moves look like!” he announced, though he stumbled over his own feet as he tried to keep up with the music. Impulse and Tango laughed and fell into rhythm, each moving to the beat with surprising coordination. Zedaph did his best to follow along, but his enthusiasm outpaced his skill, and he ended up fumbling through his steps, finally throwing his hands up in mock defeat.

“Alright, you two are way better than me!” he laughed, moving to the side to cheer them on. But Impulse and Tango were just getting started, trading grins before breaking into an all-out dance battle, each taking turns with dramatic spins, exaggerated hip thrusts, and silly poses. Tango dropped to the floor, breaking into a goofy breakdance move that sent everyone into hysterics, while Impulse responded with a series of smooth moves, topping it off with an exaggerated final pose.

Their friends gathered around, clapping and cheering as the duo showed off. Even Zedaph joined in with a playful attempt to ‘judge’ their moves, holding up an imaginary scorecard and declaring a draw between them.

Keralis, with an impressively detailed costume featuring tentacles sprouting from his back, each one moving with an eerie, lifelike fluidity, couldn’t help but smile as he watched the dance floor erupt in laughter and cheering. His costume was so convincing that several Hermits had done double-takes upon seeing him, wondering if he’d somehow gained actual tentacles overnight. Watching the others lose themselves in the fun, Keralis scanned the room until he spotted Xisuma standing by the sidelines, watching the chaos with a small smile but making no moves to join in.

“Come on.” Keralis called as he strolled over, his tentacles swaying with every step. “One little dance? Just a few moves?”

Xisuma chuckled, shaking his head as he held up his hands. “I think I’ll pass this time, Keralis,” he said, though his eyes held a twinkle of amusement. “I’m not sure I’m ready to join in on a dance battle against these experts.”

Keralis sighed in mock disappointment, dramatically clutching one of his tentacles to his chest. “Such a shame, my friend! But, if no dancing, then at least some pie, hmm?” With a playful wink, he turned and sauntered over to the refreshment table, selecting two generous slices of pumpkin pie, each topped with a dollop of whipped cream. He returned to Xisuma and handed him a slice before settling into the seat beside him.

They watched the others from their corner, laughing as Tango and Impulse’s dance battle continued to escalate, now drawing in other Hermits who cheered, clapped, and even joined in with small dance moves of their own. Every now and then, Keralis would nudge Xisuma, pointing out something funny, like Zedaph attempting a spin and nearly crashing into Cleo, Zed then pretended to be horrified, backing away dramatically.

“This is the best kind of chaos,” Keralis chuckled, savoring a bite of pie. “Halloween really brings out the wild side of everyone, doesn’t it?”

Xisuma nodded, enjoying the camaraderie and warmth of the room. “It really does. I think everyone looks forward to it all year,” he replied, glancing around at his friends, each so fully in the Halloween spirit. “And you—those tentacles are something else,” he added with an impressed laugh. “I’m not sure whether I should be complimenting your costume-making skills or asking where you found them.”

Keralis grinned, waggling a tentacle in response. “Ah, my secrets! But maybe someday, I’ll let you in on them.”

They both laughed, relaxing into their seats as they enjoyed the energy of the room, content to watch the festivities unfold from their cozy corner.

False, grinning mischievously, had made it her mission to startle as many Hermits as she could. Hiding behind tables, pillars, and decorations, she leaped out at unsuspecting friends, relishing every surprised reaction. Her first target was Scar, who had just turned around with a drink in hand. She jumped out with a loud "Boo!" and Scar, ever dramatic, stumbled back with an exaggerated gasp, nearly losing his balance. He let out a yelp, and Cub instinctively caught him, steadying him with a grin. The three of them burst into laughter, Scar clutching his chest in mock horror.

"False! You nearly made me spill my drink!" Scar chuckled, playfully swatting at her. She only responded with a playful wink, already searching for her next victim.

Spotting Joe and Cleo engaged in conversation nearby, she slipped behind a tall decoration and waited for the right moment. When she leapt out, Joe gave a surprised yelp, stumbling backward, but Cleo merely raised an eyebrow, stepping right up to False with a playful glare. She narrowed her eyes, her face mere inches from False’s, and gave a soft, challenging huff.

For a split second, False felt a flustered warmth creep up her cheeks. Cleo’s fierce expression caught her off guard, and she gave an awkward laugh, attempting to mask her own surprise. "Alright, alright, you got me," she admitted, but to break the tension, she gave Cleo a gentle push, nudging her back a step.

"Can’t scare me that easily," Cleo teased, her grin widening as she crossed her arms. As False turned to leave, she caught Joe stifling a laugh behind his hand.

“Guess False isn’t immune to a little scare either!” Joe quipped, giggling at False’s reaction.

False, still blushing slightly, tossed a playful glare back at them. "Just you wait, Joe! I’ll get you again when you least expect it!” she said, already scanning the room for her next target with renewed determination.

False had planned for a dramatic reaction, hoping to startle Grian and Mumbo for a good laugh, but she hadn’t anticipated just how startled Grian would actually be. The moment she jumped out, brandishing her harmless, prop knife with a playful shout, Mumbo had made a startled noise and stumbled back, but Grian's response was on a whole different level.

Grian's mango hit the floor with a soft thud as he let out a piercing shriek, stepping back with his wings suddenly flared wide in a panicked display. In his fear, he stumbled backward, falling onto the ground, his wings curling protectively around himself like a shield. False froze, her heart dropping as she watched him tremble. She quickly realized this wasn’t some dramatic, over-the-top reaction for fun. Grian was genuinely frightened.

Dropping her knife, False crouched beside him, reaching out gently. “Grian? It’s just me. Are you alright?” she said softly, her usual confidence replaced by genuine concern.

Grian peeked out from behind his wings, his eyes wide and unsteady, catching sight of her just inches away. His reaction was swift and instinctual; his talon shot out, brushing past her cheek with surprising speed. She didn’t flinch, but his claw managed to catch the edge of her headpiece, knocking the black-and-white bunny ears right off her head. They toppled to the floor, landing softly next to her.

At the sight of False’s now normal head, something shifted in Grian’s expression. His breathing slowed, and the fearful tension in his shoulders loosened, as if some unspoken reassurance had clicked into place. His wings relaxed, drawing back closer to his body, and he blinked, almost in confusion, as if he’d just snapped out of a nightmare.

False offered a small, comforting smile, keeping her voice low. “It’s okay, Grian. I didn’t mean to scare you that badly. I’m sorry—really.” She reached over, picking up his mango from the floor and gently placing it in his hand, hoping the small gesture would ground him a bit.

Grian took a shaky breath, gripping the fruit as he slowly met her gaze. “I—sorry, I didn’t mean to… react like that.” His voice was quieter than usual, almost embarrassed, as his wings folded back neatly. “Guess you just got me a little too good,” he added with a weak chuckle, though it was clear he was still trying to calm himself down.

False placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “No need to apologize, Grian. I didn’t realize… well, I didn’t mean to take it that far.” She smiled gently, picking up her bunny ears and placing them back on her head. “But, hey, maybe I’ll stick to scaring Mumbo next time. He’s a bit less… defensive.” She gave him a wink, hoping a touch of humor would ease the lingering tension.

Grian’s chuckle was a little more genuine this time, and he nodded. “Thanks, False,” he said softly, his fingers still holding tightly to the mango as he took a deep breath, visibly relaxing.

Where Tango and Impulse were dancing, Tango, caught up in the beat and excitement, managed to trip over his own feet, stumbling forward right into Impulse. The two tumbled to the floor in a heap, Impulse's chains clattering loose from his wings and scattering around them. They both looked at each other in surprise before breaking into uncontrollable laughter, the kind that made their sides ache.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Tango said, still chuckling as he scrambled to his feet. He bent down and picked up the metal chains, starting to reattach them to Impulse’s costume with exaggerated care. “Can’t have the fearsome chained dragon running around unchained, right?”

Impulse grinned, giving Tango a playful nudge as he helped him loop the chains back over his wings. "Just as long as you don’t knock me over again, I think we’ll be good.”

At that moment, Joe ambled over, holding a soda in one hand and adopting a serious expression as he flipped open an imaginary notebook. "Gentlemen! Care to comment on the recent incident of clumsiness during what seemed to be an otherwise coordinated dance battle?”

“Uh, no comment!” Tango said, putting on a mock-serious face as he tried to keep a straight expression.

“Is it true, Mr. Tek, that your choice of dance style led to this chaotic disruption?” Joe continued, raising an eyebrow in playful interrogation.

Before Tango or Impulse could answer, Cleo approached, carrying a slice of cake and watching Joe with a smirk. She tilted her head, leveling a mock glare at him. Joe froze mid-question, eyes wide, his entire body going still as he slowly lifted the soda up in front of him, as if using it as a shield.

“Oh no, the infamous Cleo glare!” Joe exclaimed, putting on an exaggeratedly horrified face as he held his position, pretending to turn to stone on the spot. He held the pose, keeping absolutely still as if he’d been petrified, until Cleo, with a satisfied smirk, turned on her heel and headed back to the snack table. With exaggerated caution, Joe ‘unfroze’ and hurried after her, clearly not willing to risk another round of her intimidating stare.

Tango and Impulse, watching the scene unfold, were nearly doubled over with laughter. "You gotta watch out for Cleo," Impulse whispered, nudging Tango. "One look from her, and you’re done for.”

Tango nodded, grinning. “Noted. I’ll try to avoid getting 'petrified' tonight.” They shared a laugh, glancing over to where Joe had rejoined Cleo, still looking slightly wary as she pretended to ignore him with an amused smile.

As the night wore on, the food dwindled down to a few stray slices of pie and some scattered candies. Those who were still awake began gathering leftovers into containers, chatting lazily as the exhaustion from the night’s festivities caught up with them. It was nearly five in the morning, and the energetic buzz from hours earlier had softened into sleepy smiles and stifled yawns.

Grian was the first to excuse himself, stretching as he picked up a small container filled with treats. “Alright, I think that’s my limit,” he said, offering a small wave to the others. “If I don’t head back now, my cats might think I’ve abandoned them.”

False chuckled, giving him a gentle nudge. “Right, can’t leave those fluffy troublemakers alone too long. Go get some rest!”

Grian nodded, his face softening with a sleepy smile. “Goodnight, everyone,” he mumbled, already looking half-asleep as he shuffled out the door, his wings drooping just slightly.

Not long after, Mumbo and Iskall decided to head out as well. Mumbo, who had taken out his fake vampire fangs about half an hour earlier, was nursing his sore gums. “I swear, they felt real enough,” he complained, holding up the fangs with a half-hearted grimace. “They even started cutting into my gums.”

Iskall laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “That’s the beauty of them, Mumbo—feels like they’re real, even when they’re not. Though, I suppose they’re a bit of a pain when it’s this late.”

Mumbo rolled his eyes, but he was too tired to argue further, slipping the fake fangs into his pocket and waving to the remaining Hermits. “Goodnight, or… good morning, I guess,” he said with a chuckle, getting a few tired waves in return.

As they left, they passed by Tango and Zedaph, who were struggling to keep their eyes open as they packed up a few slices of pie and cookies. Tango glanced over at Mumbo, chuckling softly. “Guess we really partied till sunrise, huh?”

Mumbo gave him a thumbs-up, his eyelids drooping. “You know it. Hope you two had fun.”

“Oh, definitely,” Zedaph replied, smiling through a yawn.

Across the room, Cleo sat chatting with Joe and Stress, the three huddled around a nearly empty plate of snacks. Cleo, ever the night owl, looked as energized as if it were the middle of the day, her eyes bright with amusement as she recounted a story from earlier in the party. Joe and Stress, however, were both fighting off yawns, occasionally nodding in agreement with Cleo but clearly more focused on staying awake than the conversation. Joe had leaned back in his seat, trying to blink away his exhaustion, while Stress’ head was beginning to droop, her eyes fluttering closed mid-laugh.

Noticing Stress swaying, False came over, offering a soft chuckle as she placed a gentle hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I think it’s time to get you home,” she said quietly, carefully lifting Stress up into her arms with ease. Stress muttered a sleepy protest, but she quickly nestled into False’s arms, already drifting into a deep slumber.

“Night, everyone!” False called over her shoulder with a wave, managing to maneuver Stress toward the door as Cleo, Joe, and a few others waved back.

Meanwhile, across the room, Pearl had just opened and closed her moth wings, testing them as they shimmered in the dim light. One of her wings, however, stretched out a little too far and whacked Gem squarely in the face, causing her to stumble back in surprise.

“Careful there, Pearl!” Gem laughed, giving Pearl a playful punch on the arm. “Unless you’re trying to start a fight at dawn?”

Pearl giggled, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Sorry! These wings have a mind of their own, I swear.”

Gem rolled her eyes, still smiling as she adjusted her own costume. “Maybe they’re tired, too. Or maybe they just think you’ve got one last dance in you.”

Pearl smirked, suddenly grabbing Gem’s hands and giving her a little spin. The two stumbled and laughed as they swayed clumsily, both barely awake but too amused to stop.

"Anyway, I’d better be getting home." Pearl chuckled, giving Gem a gentle pat on the head. She turned to go, but Gem called after her, “Bye, Pearl! Thanks for the dance!” Pearl waved, already halfway to the door, and Gem grinned as she grabbed a cup of water, feeling the night finally catching up with her.

Across the room, Xisuma was making his way around, checking in with the Hermits as they said their goodbyes and began trickling out. He noticed Keralis by the door, a little less dressed-up than earlier, and walked over with a curious tilt of his head.

“Hey, where’d your costume go?” Xisuma asked, noting the absence of the elaborate tentacles that had once protruded from Keralis’s back.

Keralis flashed a mischievous grin. “Oh, they were too heavy to keep on this long. Had to take them off eventually, you know? But I made it most of the night with them!” He waved a hand dismissively, as if it were no big deal, but the sparkle in his eyes suggested he’d enjoyed the reactions they’d garnered.

Xisuma chuckled, glancing around the room. “Where’d you put them, anyway? I feel like they’d make a good addition to the Halloween storage for next year.”

Keralis raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased, patting Xisuma’s shoulder with a wink.

With a playful sigh, Xisuma rolled his eyes and pulled Keralis into a small, warm hug. “Alright, mystery man. I’ll let you keep your secrets. But next year, I’m holding you to another epic costume.”

Keralis laughed, nodding as he patted Xisuma’s back. “I wouldn’t dream of disappointing. See you later, X.”

“Later, Keralis,” Xisuma replied, giving a final wave as he watched his friend slip out the door.

As the night drew to a close, Xisuma took one last slow walk around the room, reflecting on the night’s festivities. The fog machines had mostly died down, leaving wisps of fog curling along the floor as if the room itself was gently exhaling after a long night. Leftover bits of candy wrappers and stray confetti were scattered across the floor, a small reminder of the laughter, dancing, and playful scares that had filled the hours before.

[frozenjokes]

Rage Room (I’m Loving A Losing Battle, But I Can’t Quite Seem To Let Go)

in which aromantic scar finally tells his friends what’s been happening between him and Grian, and how he processes the space between them

“It’s just- not fair!” Scar smashed the bottle against the tile floor, the glass pelting the ankles of his reinforced pants.

Bdubs clapped behind him, though stopped when Scar turned around, visibly not in the mood. Admittedly he knew he was shooting low when he went on, but Scar didn’t care, “And I’m kind of pissed off about Etho! If the roles were switched, I would be there, and he said he’d be here last time he missed.”

“Oi,” Cleo cut in, about as unamused as Scar figured they’d be. “No friendly fire.”

“Is it really friendly fire if he’s not here.” Scar huffed, but Cleo knew better than to take his words at face value, and shut him up with a firm glare.

“And you better start talking before I make you pay for all of this.” Her words were rugged, but Scar knew she didn’t mean it, and he could take as much time as he needed. But really, if he was taking shots at Bdubs, he probably should cut to the chase. This was why they were here. This was why they had all made this pact in the first place.

“Grian is.” Scar started, stilted, “Sorry, Bdubs. I shouldn’t have said that. Grian won’t talk to me anymore. He doesn’t- want to talk to me.”

“What?” Bdubs said, eyes flying open, and yeah, no one here was really caught up with his whole.. situation. Anything that felt close to Mumbo he tended to avoid, and basically everything about Grian in the past weeks was Mumbo adjacent.. and also a little sensitive. Not something he was eager to talk about. Scar was more than a little pent up, and based on the expressions of concern across Cleo and Bdubs’ faces, it must have been pretty obvious. “Weren’t you guys hanging out nearly everyday for- I don’t know, it’s been a month at least, right? Did something happen? Hasn’t Grian been driving you around everywhere, too? You’ve sure been asking me a lot less.”

“Yeah. We were.” Scar spoke stiffly, picking up another empty bottle and spinning it in his hands. He chucked it at the wall, aiming at the newly set up targets Cleo had implemented a couple weeks ago. A good choice. Fit with the theme of the axe throwing/rage room combo. The bottle shattered near the bullseye, unsurprising, given their whole friend group had pretty tight aim. Still satisfying. “Until he went and fell in love with me.”

The memories burned like open wounds, like red, angry flesh, like sunburns on your eyelids, like the stinging smell of bleach. Cleo said something, some sort of assent, but Scar didn’t hear it, smashing two more bottles for release, though he didn’t feel any less like his ribs had been torn from his chest, hanging limply on hooks, dripping on his face from his place on the cold ground, bleeding out, dying, but never quickly enough.

“I don’t like labels, alright, you all know this, but Grian says aromantic, and that works for now, because I don’t love him like he loves me and that’s fine. That’s fine! That. Is. Fine.” Scar took a bat, needing something bigger, needing more release, and the old TV would work just fine, “And you know how I feel about dating. I like it. I like to get to know strangers, I like to feel things out, and I like to be close! But you know who I don’t like to date?” The question wasn’t meant to be answered. Scar swung his bat, splitting the TV screen with a satisfying crack. “Friends. Good friends. Friends that mean a lot, friends that I can’t afford to lose when everything goes to shit.”

Scar hit the TV a couple more times, physically battling away distress, “I was so afraid when he brought it up- dating. I was so afraid. I couldn’t just date Grian, because it would end and I would lose him and maybe he’d say we could still be friends and I would say yes! Yes, please, please can we still be friends, and he would say that’s okay, and then two weeks later he’d slam me with a message about ‘needing space’ and ‘not wanting to talk for a while’ and suddenly, suddenly my heart’s being ripped out of my chest and stomped on, but it would be fine, right? It would be fine, because after he’s taken his time, we could be friends again, and things could return to normal. No!” The TV was hardly satisfying to hit anymore, reduced to shattered glass and warped plastic under Scar’s assault.

“It never just. Goes back to normal. You try, and you try and you try, but they just can’t do it, they just can’t love you anymore, and suddenly your best friend is slipping away and there’s fucking nothing you can do about it. Because you dated them. Because you took things ‘to the next level,’ because you made something volatile without even knowing, and the next thing you know, it’s blown up in your face, and you’ve been completely blindsided again.” Scar’s arms shook, and gently, from behind, Cleo laid a hand on his shoulder, sliding down his arm to take the bat he was gripping so tightly. Scar let go when they touched his hands, but his teeth remained locked, grinding near painfully.

“Deep breaths, Scar. Breathe with me. Let me count for you,” and Cleo did, counting to five and back again, forcing Scar to take a step back. Scar wasn’t someone who particularly valued meditation or breathing; it was often too difficult to focus, especially alone, and he was easily frustrated knowing how he should be feeling, but Cleo had a way of grounding him, and when Bdubs was doing the same exercises at his side, Scar didn’t feel so stupid. And it did help. Fives minutes to breathe really did wonders sometimes; it was a shame Scar couldn’t quite manage to utilize the tool as effectively when he was alone. Not that he ever remembered to try.

And now it was quiet, and Scar was so vulnerable, and there was no more anger to hide behind, because it was all just sadness, stiff and aching so impossibly deep.

“I thought if we didn’t.. date.. I thought things could just be normal. That nothing would change. But every awful thing just got expedited- he doesn’t want to see me, he doesn’t want to talk to me- he needs space, he said he needed space, but I know what that means now.” Scar had to sit down, and Bdubs joined him, Cleo standing close by. “I feel so helpless. And it didn’t even matter. I just wish I knew so badly, so I could have said yes, so at least we might have had a chance before it all went to shit. I could keep my friend a little bit longer. I wish I understood how he felt. I wish I felt what he felt. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard.” Scar let his head drop to his hands, voice muffled under his palms, “I just kinda hate myself sometimes.”

Cleo put a hand on his shoulder, a question of touch, and one that Scar accepted with closed eyes. “It would still be hard, Scar. I can promise you that. If this isn’t what you want to hear right now, then you can let me know, but I have to think Grian and your other exes of the past who you haven’t kept in contact with were and are just as torn up as you. Maybe they need to let go for themselves, but I can tell you from personal experience, that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t make you miss them any less.”

“But when people leave me, it’s always because in some way, their lives would be better without me,” Scar felt like wailing, but in reality, his speech was far more soft, “And my life is always worse. It’s always worse. Like I’m just a plague on my friends, and I have no idea how to fix myself to keep this from happening.”

Bdubs squeezed his hand to get his attention, and Scar knew what was coming, he just couldn’t love himself right now.

“There’s nothing to fix, Scar. You’re one of the most delightful people I know, and I mean that. The way you navigate the world is inspiring.”

“Just doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Cleo said, something faraway about the words, “You just should know, that’s all. How we feel.”

“I just wish I was normal.”

“I don’t,” Bdubs snorted, something so passionately reactionary, Cleo laughed, and Bdubs himself looked a bit surprised by his own words, then a tad embarrassed, “I mean, come on. You’re a complete monster, and I love it. I love how comfortable you are about touch, I love how physical you are, and I love how normal you make it feel. Sometimes I want to fall asleep on my friends’ shoulder, or hold hands, or just be held, you know? And no one does it like you, Scar, no one. I think everyone ought to take a couple pages from your book.”

Scar wasn’t quite sure what to do with that, but it wasn’t the type of thing you argued about. You just had to accept it. In all honesty, having people to love him when he couldn’t manage it himself felt indescribably secure. Like a heated blanket wrapped tightly over his shoulders when he was so, so cold. But he couldn’t acknowledge it either, not when he couldn’t breathe the words. So he let it hang, hoping he’d remember to say something later. He knew he would. For now, Scar dodged around the words, stuck in his own raw truth.

“I don’t want to go through this again.”

“I know,” Cleo kept their hand on his shoulder, and Scar wanted to cry.

“And I- Okay, so I can’t really talk about this.. NDAs and such, but I was working on something with someone- something cool, all three of us, Grian included. And at the same time Grian.. cut contact.. I haven’t been able to reach this other uh- colleague, and I don’t know what happened! I don’t know anything, and I have no way of contacting this other guy, and Grian doesn’t know either, and I was so excited, but it just feels like everything is falling apart around me. And- and don’t be mean about the other guy, please, it’s not his fault.” Cleo looked quite skeptical about that, but a pleading look from Scar was enough to get her to leave well enough alone, “I just wish I knew why. Or if he was coming back. Might not have been able to communicate that anyway though, there’s a bit of a language barrier.”

“Can’t use google translate?” Bdubs asked, and Scar couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped his throat.

“Hadn’t thought of that,” he mumbled, which was enough to get Bdubs to let it go. Cleo didn’t look happy, but she didn’t push either.

“That fucking sucks,” she said instead, and Scar laughed in earnest, along with Bdubs, the entire air feeling just a little bit lighter.

“It does,” Scar sighed, resting a cheek on his fist, “Guess I have to find something new to throw myself into. I just really wanted this. I really wanted this.”

There was a long silence, Scar having nothing else to say, and his friends in a similar boat. There wasn’t much to say. They knew. Scar knew they understood. But there was nothing anyone could do. Nothing that could make this any less horrible. But Bdubs did perk up after a minute, catching Scar and Cleo’s attention

“We could go skiing!” Bdubs suggested, to a chorus of groans from Scar and Cleo. Bdubs huffed, affronted as he crossed his arms, “You two need to live a little. Even if you suck, you’re both exhausted by the end of the day, which would do Scar some good in my opinion, and I know you’d be able to take the time off for an impromptu trip.”

“I don’t even think you like skiing,” Cleo rolled their eyes, a laugh under her voice, “You went on one trail ride in those mountains and it changed your life, that’s what. There are no wild horses out there, Bdubs, the guide lied to you.”

“She did not lie! There are horses, and they’re going to see me and know.”

“Know.. what, exactly?” Scar teased, and Bdubs puffed up, as if this was the most blasphemous question Scar could have asked.

“They will just know. And anyway, Etho believes there’s horses out there too, he does, and he wants to see them just as much.”

“Pretty sure Etho is also fucking with you,” Cleo said, smug, and Bdubs gasped.

“Never!” But something stopped him from ranting on; a short pause, a bit of uncertainty. A guilty glance in Scar’s direction. “I’m really sorry he’s not here. I told him- I don’t know. He said something came up last minute and wouldn’t explain. I’m not happy with him either- quite frankly, I’m embarrassed.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Scar rubbed his neck, frowning, “It doesn’t really bother me much, Bdubs. I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“It’s fine if it bothers you! It bothers me! And you’re right, he’s not here, so I think a little friendly fire is well deserved,” Bdubs paused, eying one of the few bottles that were left, “May I?”

“Be my guest.”

Bdubs snatched at a bottle, flipping it in his hand, nearly dropping it trying to look cool, then whipping it at the target across the room, the entire thing smashing right on the bullseye.

“Oh, score!” Scar smiled, and Bdubs pumped his fist.

“Yes! You know, I already feel better. This is great, Cleo, have I told you this is great?”

Cleo looked pleased, exactly the cat who got the cream, “You have. And I know. So how about you boys throw back a couple beers to replace these bottles, and we do a little axe throwing.”

“Are you paying?” Scar asked, hopeful, innocent, but Cleo snorted, shaking her head.

“Uh, no. Don’t let that hold you back, though.”

“Oh, come on,” Bdubs whined, but not without his signature grin, “What’s the point of free rage room therapy hour if it’s not all free?”

“I’m not going to make you pay for the axe throwing either, and that is not included in our little deal, so the least you can do is drink.”

“You can’t make us pay to axe throw with you because we all know you’re going to whoop our asses,” Scar shot back in fake accusation, but Cleo shrugged, a crooked smile across her lips.

“You have fun.”

“I do,” Bdubs assented, earning a sharp jab from Scar’s elbow.

“We don’t! Unless you buy us each a beer, then we do.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Okay fine,” Scar sighed, fully intending on a large tip regardless, since despite her sharp tongue, Cleo would still refuse any sort of compensation for an outing like this, “But you also have to drink.”

Cleo scoffed, the smile never leaving their face. “Who do you think I am?”

***

It was fun. Of course it was fun. Scar lost pretty miserably in nearly every round, though that could be accurately attributed to the fact he was more than a little tipsy, and Bdubs, always spying an opportunity to get an edge, took full advantage. Though, to his credit, Bdubs was having a great day in general, overtaking Cleo in score multiple times, and even winning one or two games. A feat, even against an inebriated Cleo, which, in all honesty, was pretty much the only way Scar or Bdubs could ever surpass her. Etho.. It was safe to say Etho had little talent for the sport. Didn’t matter how much instruction he got, he was nothing short of miserable every time all four of them got together to play. Actually, out of the four of them, Etho was probably the only person who improved when he was drunk, which was always hilarious to see. You’ve never seen a fire lit under someone’s ass like you did when Etho managed to squeak ahead of Bdubs or Scar, the cackling of Cleo only furthering their panic.

Scar did wish Etho was here. He wished he wasn’t so flakey sometimes.

Regardless, when they were done, Bdubs was only two steps away from sober and plenty able to drive. Scar was relieved to have to ride, and even more so that he hadn’t brought his own car in the first place. It was a nice drive home, anything but quiet, and really, just what Scar needed. The less time he spent alone with his own thoughts, the better. Though, after such a nice evening, tonight was going to be a little easier.

Thanking Bdubs for the ride, Scar stepped out onto the cobblestones once they reached his apartment, taking a deep breath before going inside. It was okay. He was going to be okay.

But there was one little habit he had developed, a little something he couldn’t quite shake despite knowing it wasn’t doing him many favors. It had only been a week since Mumbo had disappeared, but Scar refused to miss it if the mermaid ever did return- he couldn’t, even if Grian wouldn’t be in the picture anymore. This still meant something. Scar wasn’t about to give it up so easily.

The trail cams were still open on his monitors when he sat at his desk. Of course they were. Scar never closed them.

So there he sat, chin in his hands, eyes glazed as he watched every angle of that little cove. The trees, waving gently in the breeze. The sand, shifting ever so slightly in the presence of bugs and crabs. But mostly he watched the water. Scar never stopped watching the water.

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

I just found your Grumbo apocalypse au and it’s already got me in a chokehold it’s amazing! On the subject of convex here we know what’s so different about grian and Mumbo but what’s so different about scar and Cub? Did they both come out of the wormhole the same weird or is one more wrong now than the other? I absolutely love this au so much keep up the amazing work!!

:D I'm glad you're enjoying it. I love the au and needed to return to it soooo bad.

Convex are my favourite side characters honestly. There's definitely some variation between the two of them. Both went through similar genetic scrambling through the wormhole, and they both have sharp teeth, glow-in-the-dark eyes, almost bat-like wings (small and nonfunctional but expressive) and various mutations like scales across their bodies.

Scar I think has more of the scales, covering his skin where his various scars once were. He also has sharper teeth and a more monstrous look about him. He's could eat a person without getting sick I think. He probably wouldn't, but I think he gets cravings.

Cub looks a little more 'normal', though it's still obvious that he isn't purely human anymore. He has an immunity to other refracting effects (areas where the atmosphere scrambles human DNA) and can actually see zones of refraction as if they were colourful, shimmering lights in various blocks of the city. This helps him and Scar avoid those areas, as well as find areas where there are likely to be bodies they can harvest from for their experiments. He gets to poke around corpses, as a treat.

So yeah, slightly different, but similar in terms of the core changes. They're simply silly little guys. Cub is actually trying to figure out what caused the apocalypse and how to get rid of it, while Scar is more just there for the ride. He likes to help tho.

[ahllohehn]

Bats eyeslahes

Grumbo?

Actually don't know if I've already requested them but oh well I'll do it again

Remember to feed your Zora her weekly Grumbo /j (forgot to answer for the drabble spam week)

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

"Tell your dad he's dumb."

"Send a reply forward telling your papa that he's being unreasonable."

Grumbot's system sent a little beep of confusion, its little wheels caked with dirt and whatnot from going back and forth from Grian to Mumbo then back to Grian, then to Mumbo...

Basically, the little robot was being used as a messenger. All because both of his creators were non-confrontational and, additionally, extremely petty when it came to small banters turned to big arguements.

Grumbot, for the first unusual time in his life, learned to be 'annoyed'.

He wheeled himself up the ramp Impulse made for him as he entered the Hermes cabin for the nth time, faintly registering Scar's giggling at the side from seeing him once again. The robot fails to understand how the demigod could still find this so funny when it's been going on for almost an entire hour.

Grumbot approaches the familiar strawberry blonde at the corner of the cabin, throwing a tanrum facedown on his bed, "I have come with a message."

Grian raised himself up on his elbows, glaring down at Grumbot like he was doing something wrong from doing what he was being instructed to do, "He still hasn't given up?!"

The robot ignored him and was about ready to go through the process of going through with this shenanigan once again before his program stopped him with a new calculation that could possibly achieve better results on the situation. It went quiet briefly as he took the time to reprogram himself.

"Mumbo says that he understands your point of view and he's willing to hear you out."

That was Grumbot's first time lying. It felt... 'fun'.

It watched as Grian's frustrated expression turned into a much more surprised one, "H-he is?"

Something in Grumbot's coding was preventing him from lying any further, only sitting there silently. Apparently, that was enough. Grian's concerning delusions over Mumbo was enough to placate him.

"W-Well, I expected him to come to his senses soon enough!"

"Would you like to forward another message?"

Grian hesitated for a while then shook his head, "I'll go to him directly."

And so Grumbot found himself in the forge, for the nth time. Grumbot was comfortable enough in Grian's arms to be able to see that Mumbo was confused as to why he had Grian in tow now.

"Oh, Mumbo Jumbo Bumbo Dumbo, I knew you did love me enough to actually come to your senses."

Mumbo raised an eyebrow, "I did?"

"After all, a trillion lions is fully capable of beating the sun."

Mumbo then turned to stare at Grumbot unamusingly, obviously aware of where it all started to go wrong. The robot didn't react back.

"That is not what I said--"

"That's what Grumbot said you said,"

"It's the literal sun, Grian!"

"Yeah, but it's a trillion amount of lions!"

"THEY'RE LIONS! HOW ARE THEY EVEN GONNA REACH THE SUN?!"

"THEY COULD MAKE A LADDER OUT OF EACH OTHER!"

"THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!"

"IT DOES! IT'S A TRILLION LIONS!"

"Oh my gods, Grian, THEY'RE LIVING ANIMALS! THE SUN IS A SPHERE OF HOT PLASMA IN SPACE!"

"YOU KNOW WHAT? I'M DIVORCING YOU! I'M TAKING CUSTODY!"

"OF WHAT?!"

"OF GRUMBOT AND THE TRILLION LIONS!"

"EXCUSE ME?! THEN I'M TAKING OWNERSHIP OF THEIR DAD--"

"wait, HUH?!"

Grumbot then decided to shut himself down right then and there.

[cricketblabbers]

Hermitcraft Golden Compass AU! Where it's basically normal minecraft mechanics/Fandom mechanics but every player has a visible soul(daemons) in the form of a little creature.

Examples:

Grian- bird that can shapeshift into other birds but is mainly a parrot

Scar- Jellie obviously

Pearl- moth that flutters around her and hides in her hair

I had some ideas like Tango could have a little flame creature that floats/bounces around him kinda like a fire allay. Or maybe a little gear cyberpunk critter or baby blaze

Or Mumbo having a little bat or something i dont have many ideas for him.

Zedaph has a cute sheep that changes colors, usually sticking to yellow and pink.

Cub having a vex that is relatively tame like an allay but loves mischief

I don't have many more critter ideas for this but I loved the Idead over all!

[bidoofenergy]

jimmy bribes tango in session 4, but a little longer also on AO3

Tango turns away from Mumbo to swing back onto his horse and there Jimmy is, heading up the hill towards him. Maybe one day the sight of Jimmy won’t send Tango’s heart skipping, like it still remembers the rhythm they held together, but today isn’t that day. He’s grinning up at Tango, eyes alight with some sort of mischief, his tail wagging slowly behind him.

“Hey Jimmy,” Tango says, excited but careful. He really doesn’t need Jimmy to ruin his chances at his task—he’s so close to being finished.

“Hi Tango!” Jimmy says cheerfully. His tail starts wagging as he gets closer. Well, at least Tango knows they’re both excited to see each other.

“Listen,” Jimmy steps closer, sidling up the side of Tango’s horse to blink up at him. Did his eyes get bigger when he got dogified? Jimmy has always had big brown eyes, like he was made for batting his eyelashes at people, but now they feel bigger and rounder and browner. Tango resists the urge to pull away, already resigning himself to giving Jimmy whatever he asks for.

Jimmy’s head is well above the shoulders of Tango’s horse. He rests a hand on Tango’s thigh, leaning casually against his horse. “I’ve just been over to Skizz,” he continues, as Tango struggles to focus on his words and not on the warmth of his hand. “And I’ve heard about your heart foundation and the raffle you guys run. Real wholesome, I’m all for it, I love it.” He pauses, trailing a finger down and then back up Tango’s leg.

Tango knows where this is going, but it’s hard to be annoyed with Jimmy’s head practically in his lap. His new ears look so soft. Tango gently brushes against one, cutting off whatever Jimmy was going to say next.

Jimmy’s new ears are really soft, like a puppy’s, and Tango strokes it for a minute, smiling at the blissed-out expression on Jimmy’s face. Eventually, he prompts, “But…?”

“But nothing!” Jimmy exclaims. “Just, maybe, next time—” He pulls a few diamonds out of his inventory, his sly expression at odds with the way his head stays pressed into Tango’s hand. He slides one into one of the side pockets on Tango’s pants and when he fumbles with the flap, Tango presses his lips together and tries not to laugh.

“Next time there’s a few more “Jimmy”s in the dropper.” Tango finishes.

“Yeah,” Jimmy says with a smile. “Maybe a “oh, Jimmy won, isn’t that so lucky!””

Well, Tango isn’t above bribery.

“I’ll see what I can convince the others to do.” Tango leans down to put his face closer to Jimmy’s, his hand sliding to the back of Jimmy’s neck. He drops his voice a little and says, “Of course, things might go smoother if you have a little something more to give.” He can’t quite reach Jimmy’s mouth from here, but his intention is plenty clear.

“I don’t have any more diamonds.” Jimmy lies, eyes wide. He lifts up onto his toes and gently presses his mouth against Tango’s. Tango uses his hand to angle Jimmy’s head a little bit and Jimmy goes easily, mouth sliding open to—

“Umm,” says Mumbo, from a few feet behind Tango. “Wow, I really thought Grian was exaggerating about you two.”

[grow-bettah]

Do you guys want a headcanon/ personal c!Grumbo lore dump? no? okay here It is!!

starting off with my silly guy for obvious reasons- Grian. quick warning i pour a ton of myself into him as a hyperfeminine fat trans man💕

Grian - Avian. Big ol' birdy bird. no set species, he does whatever. TRANSGENDERED. Trans Man Grian owns my life, and this plays jnto my Ariana stuff too btw. Grian doesn't want top surgery, but he's been on T pretty much ever since he joined Hermitcraft, like mid to late s6 he asked X if it was possible to do that for him. He's gotten waaay more confident since then. also he was a scrawny lil guy when he joined HC, but once he got comfortable he let himself heal (no more watchers) he became the fat little rat bastard I know and love. /aff Grian has fibromyalgia! He's an ambulatory wheelchair user and otherwise Mumbo carries his cane around for him just incase he needs it. (it's the colour of Mumbo's eyes. Grian won't tell him, and Mumbo will never know unless told since he can't see his own reflection.)

Ariana Griande was a persona he grabbed up pretty early on in his Hermitcraft career, and nobody except Mumbo, Scar and Gem know that that's him. He very much enjoys playing the part of Ariana every so often and wearing the tight hot pink outfits she does! When he's Ariana he doesn't mind using she/her btw.

CuteGuy is a very recent persona hes started playing. The cute superhero and sidekick to HoTGuy- they know eachothers identities but don't snitch. Mumbo doesn't know that Grian id CuteGuy, and gushes about that 'terribly handsome' superhero to his boyfriend regularly. Both Gri and Mumbo are huge HoTGuy fans and own a good chunk of merch of him. Mumbo does suspect that his Boyfriend is CuteGuy since he conveniently has to go build or farm or whatever whenever another hermit is in need of CuteGuy's help. Grian knows Mumbo's onto him. lol

Mumbo time!! the blorbo

Mumbo! He's a bat slash vampire guy. he's a real fancypants and wears strictly suits and cravats. He does however get it dirty with redstone periodically. His vampire identity isn't a secret- The hermits aren't worried about it since they're aware he drinks from pretty much only Grian. He's also a trans man! Just that he doesn't really use a persona to live out his hyperfemininity like grian, but rather wears dresses, skirts and other feminine clothes whenever he so pleases. He also refuses to get the teta snip, he thinks they look great in his suit jacket thank you very much. He's on T, a fair bit longer than Grian. Also, X knew before Mumbo did that he's trans. hehe. Mumbo WISHES he could eat anything other than Blood because he knows from Scar that his boyfriend's cooking is phenomenal. Also because blood doesn't really get you all that much nutrition which keeps him skinny, which in turn worries Grian all the time because he thinks Mumbo looks like a stick ( a "very hot and sexy stick" according to Grian mind you.) Mumbo has narcolepsy! He's pretty independent even with it obstructing most of his life. But sometimes very short sudden naps aren't too bad (when he's not doing redstone or building. Grian's always around when Mumbo's building up high, just for safety.)

I hope this isn't too much to read y'all! I just needed to dump all of this out on you guys today just to.. explain how my art functions? I guess? MWA kissy

[amethystfairy1]

Hiiii

I literally love your writing so much. Your hot guy/cute guy au has been rotting in my brain for at least two months now, I love it so much. TTSBC has all the right hits that I love so much.

Anyway, I have a questionnnnnn. Mumbo was mentioned at least once, if I'm not mistaken and I believe he lives in the undercity. Soooo I was wondering, what type of Hybrid/Mutant is he (if it isn't going to have ✨ spoilers✨)

Thxs so much for blessing us with your fantastic writing

Hello, hello! ✨

I'm so glad TTSBC has been rotting your brain!

Mumbo Jumbo himself, people have been so excited to see him! Yes, yes, you're correct, he's been mention a few times! And actually, upon close reading, the type of hybrid he is...is revealed in the story! Like a scavenger hunt for the words! 😆 But I'll save you from having to comb through it.

He's a bat hybrid! 🦇 This is mentioned in "Butterfly Fall" when Joel is reminiscing, where he's the fifth member of their little middle school friend group who can fly, he'd usually carry Impulse, who isn't a big fan of flying, because Mumbo is the most careful flier of their group!

Being a bat hybrid, he's got wings of course, and his eyes shift colors between gold and red depending on the light...there's also other stuff he can do! A few glamor skills that are specific to his subspecies, but we'll learn more about those when we actually meet him! I promise we will! I have plans for it, I swear! It's just taken me a minute to get there!

Thanks so much for coming by to say hi! 💖

[firedragon1321]

"Kazana Was Right" the Movie

Welcome to my +Anima Sailand arc rant. We're going to talk about trauma, slavery, and dumb canon. Also this bird man. A lot about this bird man.

TW- slavery (heavy focus on slavery apologism), child abuse, trauma, fantasy racism, manipulation (more explicit in this rant than canon)

Two Minute Crash Course

So because this is a rare fandom, I'm gonna assume only I know who these characters are and what their world is so-

+Anima is about people called +Anima, who can use the power of animals for self defense. They only get one animal species, determined by whatever is skittering nearby during a traumatic experience in childhood. This power- also called a +Anima- disappears when the person is safe and loved. +Anima are discriminated against, so most keep their powers into adulthood.

The main characters are three children and one teenager. Their names are Cooro (crow +Anima), Husky (fish +Anima), Senri (bear +Anima), and Nana (bat +Anima).

Cooro was born with his +Anima due to shenanigans, making him more comfortable with it than other characters. He is also my blorbo- very squishable. Nana does not like her +Anima much at all, and is the most fashion conscious member of the group (yes girl but she can also sew which is cool). Senri is heavily traumatized and is generally quiet with a heart of gold. He also a member of the Kim-un-kur, a Native American-esque group who worships +Anima. Husky is a boy who looks like a girl and easy to anger. He is also a prince of Sailand.

Kazana is not part of the regular cast. But I will not describe him here because you're about to hear his life story.

There are two countries in this setting, separated by a mountain range where the Kim-un-kur live. One is Astaria, the setting of 70% of the manga. The other is Sailand. The main difference between them is- in Sailand- slavery is legal and +Amina/Kim-un-kur slaves are common.

The Sailand arc is about three issues long and is set entirely in Sailand. It contains backstory stuff for Husky and Senri. But we're not here to talk about that in-depth (though I will discuss what's relevant for Senri).

Got all that? Good. Time to move on.

Wish Upon a Star

Kazana became a hawk +Anima through unspecified means. He carried the ability into adulthood. Since he's a +Anima in Sailand, he was inevitably enslaved. At least one of his owners is known, and it's this bitch.

Bitch Lady Crystala owns one of multiple caravans in Sailand. To help her run the caravan, she owns a lot of slaves. The manga will bend head over heels to convince you she's a "nice" slave owner and her slaves are "happy" under her rule. Yuck.

Kazana was once one of her happily brainwashed minions. But after overhearing a particular conversation, he learned Crystala is the king's sister. There is some mumbo jumbo about succession which prevents her from ruling, and her relationship with the king is strained. But she still has his ear, and is in the best position out of anyone in the manga- save the king himself- to abolish slavery.

But instead of doing that, Crystala perpetuates slavery under the guise of being a "good master". She can- at any time- release her slaves. She chooses not to. Even twelve year old me knew something was up with this. Adult me- with more adult understanding- is honestly disgusted.

Understandably, Kazana is hurt. He's somewhat betrayed, too, as he thought Crystala really cared for him and the other +Anima under her ownership. This moment proves that not only doesn't she give a shit, but she is actively ignoring her ability to play the right fiddles and make some progress.

So Kazana takes matters into his own talons. He runs away and forms a group called Wish. These +Anima aim to end slavery, with Kazana also hatching a plot to assassinate the king and stage a coop. Upon becoming king, he plans to free slaves from their bondage. It is implied he would also take his rage out upon their former masters. I never said the man was perfect. But he is justified in his resentment.

All good stuff, ruined by a few things. We don't get to see much of Wish's membership outside Kazana. This essentially dehumanizes them. Yes there's a cool lizard guy, but what's his name? We also don't know how close Kazana is to his subordinates. Is he a strict ruler? Do they laugh together? Is he kind but closes his heart?

My headcanon is "a mix of the three, mostly the last one". Kazana has charisma- enough to attract followers- but I don't see him being very open after already being bitten once.

The aforementioned glorification of Crystala also becomes an increasingly large issue as the story progresses. And this is where we bring the protagonists in.

There's a lot left unanswered with Wish. Twelve year old me made a whole ass OC to try and find answers but never followed through. Maybe I should revisit my rat boy. But that's the subject of another rant.

Makes No Difference Who You Are

The four main characters are in Sailand to reunite Husky- however briefly- with his mother. Shenanigans get Cooro and Nana separated from Husky and Senri. The latter two are captured by slavers. But let's follow Cooro and Nana for now, as they enter a town and find +Anima everywhere. This is not common in Astaria, so the naive children get to believe for a second that they will be accepted.

They also wind up chased by slavers. Luckily, a coyote +Anima named Daisy spots them. Unluckily, she's one of Crystala's pets, and her owner is nearby. The two develop a ruse, locking Cooro and Nana in collars to trick the slavers. It works! Yay! But when Cooro attempts to return his collar...

As a blanket statement for everything that happens after this- I don't blame the main four for gushing over Crystala. They are children, and see no reason not to trust her. She not only bailed out these two, but saved Senri in the past (more on that later) and is directly related to Husky. They are too young to understand anything past "nice lady helped us". Senri has an extra wrinkle we'll discuss later.

Cooro and Nana travel with the caravan to try and rescue their friends. It happens to stop in a town where Senri is being sold. And this is where Wish makes its move.

Wish uses a notably non-lethal and barely harmful method to get attention. The translation says it might be mustard, but since it has an equal chance of being hot sand and hurts no-one long-term, I'm going to ignore that.

Kazana attempts to rally the +Anima to join him. The manga tries to warn us of him, as he says +Anima have powers superior to humans. But this is a statement of fact. Kazana's flight and talons give him an edge over ordinary humans. There's also the niggling worry he might use those powers to hurt humans. And he probably will.

But the manga forgets something important. Kazana is still a man. An angry, hurt man, who has seen a lot of evil. He had to have suffered greatly to become a +Anima to begin with. The one person he trusted saw him as yet another slave- not a human being worth freeing. He is wounded. And in his mind, abolishing slavery/becoming king is the only way to heal that wound.

As this is just a demonstration, Wish retreats the second things get ugly. This includes Senri fighting to protect Crystala. Remember I mentioned she "saved" him? Senri carries a book to help with his fractured memory. It contains a flower that reminds him of Crystala, who kept him with her caravan when he was a child. In her "debt", he attacks Kazana.

But Kazana does not retreat until the town guard gets involved. Kazana taunts Senri, sure. But perhaps deep down, he saw who he once was. A man with nowhere to go, who believed Crystala's empty words.

Kazana offers Cooro and Nana a spot in Wish. They decline as they still need to find Husky. He warns them of Crystala, with what limited time he has left in that town. Because he knows he can't force them to come with him. That would make him no better. And yet, he holds out hope that Cooro and Nana can add two plus two and flee.

Before it's too late, and they also feel hurt.

Anything Your Heart Desires Will Come...

Kazana does not reappear until later. With Husky freed and armed with knowledge of the palace's inner workings, Kazana offers to help out. He asks Husky about the king's most likely whereabouts (though he mentions guards, they are not his main concern). Husky- suspecting nothing- tells him. Kazana helps the kids sneak in to see Husky's mother, then departs on his own mission.

Using his new knowledge, Kazana ambushes the king and attempts to assassinate him. Unfortunately, Crystala happens to show up. She tries to get Kazana to stand down, and he refuses.

Though Kazana claims Crystala will take over if he kills the king, this is just a ruse. He just wants her out of the way. And he knows what she desires- power. Why else would she willingly continue to keep slaves? Why would anyone? And so he fights on, the crown in sight, and- hopefully, too- the end of his suffering.

What must be rushing through his mind in this scene? The children he used? His allies in Wish? The younger man curled up inside him, writhing and screaming in rage? Perhaps not even a man, but a child- a little boy who once cried out in fear. In the sky was a simple hawk- his only salvation, and also the key to his doom.

With this one murder, he can save thousands. Perhaps he can save himself.

But just as Kazana knows Crystala is a snake in the grass, she knows him. She had to know him- to an extent- in order to gain his trust. And she is his downfall, easily defeating him in combat, striking weaknesses he might not have known he had.

Because that's how dangerous people operate successfully. They sink under your skin, until you don't own it anymore. They tattoo themselves under the nails, where they'll never truly leave.

These panels haunt me, because you can just see everything slipping out of Kazana's talons. He will never free his kind, and he will never know peace.

Crystala pulls another gambit, faking Kazana's death to prevent his execution by the authorities. Sadly, he ends up right back where he started. You see, Crystala has a nice little plantation...

Yes that is the fucking word the English translation uses.

Now that you're done puking in your receptacle of choice, the plantation contains- you guessed it- more +Anima slaves. Who supposedly lose their +Anima while working there. Recall that the only way to lose one's +Anima is to be in a safe, loving environment. While we can't confirm if the plantation really does make people lose their +Anima, it still uses slaves to operate. That sounds like the exact opposite of safe and loving.

It's a return to the very hell Kazana gave up everything to end.

Bottom of the Abyss

I admit part of this issue is +Anima's format. It's supposed to be about four kids wandering the world together, looking for their place in it. There's little room for huge political epics like this (that's why it's an arc). This and the characters being children inhibits how deep the author can go into things.

That being said, we're still left with an agonizing snarl. Not only has the problem of slavery not been solved, but Kazana is presented as a villain whose rule would unfairly subject humans to torment. He is seen as human enough to spare death, but only to "teach him his place". He has fallen, becoming an example to those who step out of line. One can easily assume that Wish disbands without its leader. Who knows how long until anyone challenges the law again?

The only good thing about this situation is the story forgets about Kazana. Though there is a mini comic showing him on the plantation, I refuse to believe he stays there forever. The sky calls. Sooner or later, he must leave. Do I think he'll stage a coop again? Unfortunately no. He's too hurt and too humbled. But I have a wish of my own- that he leaves that damn slave farm and finds his own place, wherever it may be.

I won't get it in canon. But I can daydream.