#i might watch pearl scar and impulse later on since i watched them back in s8

[kay-valencourt]

Some hermits I've been watching this season!!

[hopepetal]

Part One | Part Two (you are here!)

Read part one on ao3!

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! :)

@applestruda

On his first day of being more than just a guy, Impulse slept in.

He’d always been a light sleeper, so it was surprising that he hadn’t at least woken when the others had started getting up and coming out of their tents, but Impulse just chalked it up to being tired. Maybe summoning demons took a lot of energy. He wouldn’t know– he never finished reading that book from the library. Not that he needed it anymore, with a real demon in his head. 

It was a nice day out. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Impulse could hear more. It seemed that allowing the demon into his head had given him enhanced senses. It was more than a little disorienting at first, but he figured it would get easier with time. Almost like sword fighting, in a way. Daunting at first, but easier as he trained and worked at it. 

As he made his way toward the picnic table they all ate at, Impulse was greeted by Scar and Mumbo, who had clearly just woken up as well. He settled in across from Scar after grabbing some food– Pearl had made some sort of oatmeal for herself and decided that was what the rest of the knights would be having as well, judging by the quantity. She didn’t have to prepare food for the rest of them, and Impulse had said as much on many occasions, but she had shrugged and said that she might as well, since she was up the earliest. It wasn’t as though she did it every day, either. 

Scar grinned at Impulse as he sat down, leaning back from his half finished food. “Well, look who decided to wake up! Any later and we’d have started to call you Grian!” 

Mumbo glanced up, dark eyes wide. “That’s not true, really,” he clarified, and Impulse chuckled.

“Nah, I get it. I’m a little surprised myself,” Impulse admitted, stirring his oatmeal absentmindedly, “but I guess there’s a first time for everything, right?”

“Indeed there is, my good man!” Scar stood up, doing a big stretch before plopping right back down on the bench. “Ahh, that felt good.” He glanced over at Mumbo, who was hunched over his bowl. “You should stretch more,” he advised, “it’s good for you.”

Scar wiggled his eyebrows, his smile growing. “Then why don't you ask Impulse for a spar? If you're so fit and healthy, you could take him on, right?”

Mumbo’s cheeks flushed a pale pink. “I do stretch,” he protested, “I’m very fit and very healthy!”

Mumbo dropped his spoon. “Oh– well, I– you see, um…”

Impulse laughed. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Scar. I’d be willing to spar with you, if you would like.”

Sighing, Mumbo looked up at Impulse. “Well, I suppose… would you like to spar with me? Later today?”

Impulse nodded, grinning widely. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, Mumbo. How about we spar in a bit, so it’s not too hot for us?”

Mumbo shot a glare at Scar, but it was light hearted. “Sounds lovely, Impulse. I guess I better go get ready, then.” He stood, picking up his empty bowl and reaching down to scoop up his dropped spoon. “I’ll see you in a bit!” he called as he walked away, Scar and Impulse watching him go.

Scar turned back to Impulse, who had continued eating his oatmeal. “Well, I can’t wait to see how that turns out. That is, if I’m able to watch.” He scooped some oatmeal into his mouth, taking a moment to eat before continuing. “Cub wanted to meet up with me at some point today, and I was going to head over after I finished eating. If it doesn’t take too long, maybe I’ll get back in time to watch the fight.”

Impulse nodded, humming softly. “He wanted to check in about the, uh…?” He glanced up at Scar, who nodded. “Yeah. How have you been?” he asked tentatively, watching for Scar’s reaction.

Scar shrugged, seeming unbothered. “I’m alright. It’s been… not difficult, I guess, but I just…” He sighed. “It’s been rough. I still get a little spooked when using vex magic. A lot of anxiety in general, I guess, but I’ve been working on it.” He gave Impulse a small smile. “Takin’ it day by day, y’know? That’s all you can do.”

“That’s all you can do,” Impulse echoed, nodding his head. “I’m glad to hear you’re at least doing alright. We’re here for you if you need anything, alright? You’re not… alone.” He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. Did he truly believe the words he was saying, or were they just empty comforts?

Scar seemed to take it well, though, and his smile became more genuine. “Thanks, Impulse. You too, okay? Ya got any issues, you come to one of us. Or all of us! Whichever you want to do.” 

Impulse laughed. “I’m good, but thank you. Say hi to Cub for me, alright?”

Scar stood up with his empty bowl and nodded. “I will! If I don’t make it back in time, have fun beating Mumbo!”

“Oh, have some faith!” Impulse called after Scar, and then he was alone.

It was only then that he realized Scar hadn’t had Jellie with him. Maybe she was out hunting or something. Did magical familiar cats do that? He’d have to ask Scar later. 

Impulse finished his oatmeal in relative peace and quiet, before taking his bowl and spoon to go wash and place on the drying rack. As he was doing so, a familiar voice whispered to him, startling him enough to make him nearly drop what he was holding.

Hello.

“Void’s name– hi! Uh, good morning…?” Impulse greeted, carefully placing his bowl and spoon on the drying rack. “Sorry, I wasn’t really expecting you. Have you been there this whole time?”

Mhm! You have some lovely friends, the demon commented, but I don’t think it would be wise for me to really be around… some of them. 

For a moment, it was as if Impulse was looking through his own memories– a misty image of Scar sitting across from him during breakfast appeared in his head. It was more than a little disorienting, and Impulse blinked several times. “Huh… what did Scar do?” he asked, confused. “He’s a really nice guy, he’s friendly and good with people.”

The demon hummed thoughtfully, as if trying to come up with the right words. Let's just say we magic folk don’t always get along. You understand, right? I’m a demon, so obviously assumptions would be drawn, and then it just gets so messy.

Impulse thought about it for a moment, before slowly nodding. “Yeah, I get that. I don’t really like keeping secrets from my friends, though.”

Have they not done the same, though? The demon asked innocently, I mean, secrets are a natural part of life. You don’t have to tell everyone everything. 

Impulse pressed his lips together. “...yeah, actually. You’re right.” He thought about it for a few moments, before shaking this head. “I don’t want to think badly of them. They have their reasons.”

Just as you have yours! I’m sure they’d understand.

Impulse glanced up at the sky. “I should probably go get ready for my spar with Mumbo. Thanks for the, uh, chat? I guess?”

I’ll be here! Have fun, be careful!

Impulse didn’t rush getting ready, but didn’t dilly dally either. Soon, he was ready, and headed out to the sparring area to greet Mumbo. 

“Hi, Impulse,” Mumbo greeted him with a nervous air, “I was just finishing up with my um, my stretches. You know, Scar taught me a few really good ones, if you’d like to– oh, goodness, can you tell I’m a little bit nervous?”

Impulse simply laughed, shaking his head. “It's been a while since we sparred,” he noted with an easy smile as he stretched. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me again.”

Mumbo laughed anxiously. “Yes, well, constantly losing wasn't too good for my pride. But I'm ready now, and raring to go!” He let out a weak cheer. “Who knows! Maybe I'll even win this time!” He sounded as though he was trying to convince himself as much as Impulse. 

“Maybe!” Impulse cheerily agreed, “I've noticed you've been practicing!” He picked up his sword, spinning it in his hand once. “Alright, get ready,” he warned Mumbo, shifting into a battle stance. He waited for the other knight to ready up before making the first move. 

Mumbo had improved, that was for sure. Not that Impulse hadn't been expecting that– he'd seen how hard the man was working. It made him proud, seeing how far Mumbo had come. “Good!” he shouted as Mumbo blocked a particularly tricky attack, a wide grin on his face. The other knight only responded with a panicked noise, though the slight smile on his face told Impulse he was alright. 

“This is–” Mumbo got out breathlessly– “much harder… than you make it… seem!” He parried Impulse, keeping a semi-defensive grip on his sword. It had been something Impulse had worked on with Mumbo before. Because he was so tall, there weren’t as many opportunities for him to use the most defensive grip possible. With a bit of tweaking, however, they had found a stance and a grip that worked the best for him, and continued to work on that with every spar. 

Impulse blocked one of Mumbo’s attacks with a laugh. “You’re doing great! Just stay focused, and don’t overthink it. Remember the basics!”

Mumbo nodded, his eyes shining with determination. Impulse was reminded of why he loved helping out the other knights with their swordplay so much during spars like these. It was honestly incredible to see how each individual person uniquely used their skills and strengths to wield the same weapon. It filled him with genuine pride to see how his friends slowly began to flourish in something they weren’t naturally talented in.

It also reminded Impulse of his own journey. The highs and lows of it all, the trial and error, the relentless drills and training and repetition that brought him to where he was today. He was good at what he did; one of the best, even. And it always brought him joy to see others follow the same path he had.

Mumbo was tiring much more quickly than Impulse was, which he had expected. While Mumbo had been training more and working on honing his swordplay, endurance was another issue entirely. The kind of strength needed for endurance wasn’t just something that could be learnt overnight– no, endurance was something that had to be built up towards over your life, with constant practice and training. Impulse always took care to watch his friends during sparring matches, making sure they weren’t going to overwork themselves or get injured. He was good at spotting the point at which exertion turned to exhaustion and easing up on the attacks.

Or so he thought.

With a strength that hardly felt his own, Impulse struck at Mumbo, knocking him to the ground. The tip of his sword just barely brushed against Mumbo’s pale skin, like scissors against paper. For a moment, they remained like that, Mumbo’s gasps for air the only sound breaking the silence as he stared up at Impulse. 

Then, whatever had come over Impulse let go, and he stumbled back from Mumbo with a soft huff. “Oh my gosh. Mumbo, I am so sorry, I don’t know why– I didn’t mean to hit you as hard as I did. Are you alright?”

Mumbo let out a shaky laugh, carefully picking himself up and brushing himself off. “I’m alright, mate. Little shaken up, but fine.” He looked up at Impulse with a nervous smile. “It’s fine! Really! Accidents happen all the time! Oh, gosh. I think that signals the end of the spar though.” He laughed awkwardly as he picked up his sword– he’d dropped it when he’d fallen. “I don’t think I could've lasted much longer, honestly. I was getting pretty tired.”

Impulse looked Mumbo over quickly, making sure there weren’t any injuries. “Yeah, I… you did really well, though,” he finished lamely. “I can’t believe I did that, I usually only get that heated in my matches against Pearl,” he admitted, somewhat ashamed. “You aren’t hurt?” he asked, just in case he’d missed anything in his quick check.

“Just a bruised pride!” Mumbo said, “and maybe an actual bruise or two, but nothing bad.”

Impulse sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Thank goodness. I’m glad you’re alright. That won’t happen again, I swear.”

Mumbo waved him off. “Ahh, don’t worry. Like I said, accidents happen. Especially when we play with very sharp, very dangerous toys.”

“These are training swords, Mumbo,” Impulse reminded, “but yes, that’s true.” He took another moment to relax, the thrill of battle still singing in his veins. “I’m going to go take a quick walk to cool down. Good job today. You’re really improving, and I’m glad to see it.”

Mumbo nodded, smiling. “Um, thank you! Thank you very much. I’m gonna- I’m going to go check on Grian. See if he’s awake and all.”

With that, the two parted ways, and Impulse was left wondering what exactly had happened.

I know. 

“Was it you?” he asked the demon, trying to keep any sort of accusation out of his tone. “I didn’t– that didn’t feel like me.” 

Well, it kind of was? the demon admitted, but it wasn’t on purpose. I know you’ve already noticed the whole enhanced senses thing, but now that we’re bound, I’m also giving you strength. I didn’t really think to tell you about it, but I’m really very sorry. I thought you would be able to control it.

Impulse sighed. “I… I don’t blame you, it’s my fault for not expecting something like this. I just… I don’t want to hurt my friends. Thank you for telling me about this now, though.”

Accidents happen. 

“Yeah. They do.”

The rest of the day felt much less jovial and carefree than the previous one. Whether the mood had been dampened by the accident during training, or Impulse was just worrying too much, things seemed to be a little more dull. 

Scar returned from Cub’s to learn of the spar, of which he teased Mumbo relentlessly for losing. Soon after, Grian appeared, claiming nightmares to be the reason as to why he’d slept in so late. 

“It’s weird,” Grian complained to the gathered knights over lunch, which was really his breakfast, “I’ve never really been one to have nightmares, but they just wouldn’t stop last night.”

“Sounds like you’re just making up excuses for sleeping in,” Pearl commented, to which Grian rolled his eyes. “Just go to sleep earlier! It works for me!”

“Well, sorry I don’t want to hit the hay before the sun’s even gone down,” Grian snarked, and the two began their usual light hearted bickering.

Later in the day, Impulse pulled Scar aside. “Hey. I was wondering where Jellie was? I didn’t see her with you this morning. Does she go out hunting, or something?”

The familiar perked up at the sound of Scar’s voice and bounded over, before stopping just a few feet away. She gazed warily at Impulse, and Scar frowned. “Well, that’s weird. Jellie, c’mere!” he repeated, and Jellie somewhat reluctantly followed his orders, jumping into his arms and curling up as she usually did. Scar looked back up at Impulse, smiling. “Here she is! The beautiful lady herself!” 

Scar shook his head. “I just hadn’t summoned her. She’s somewhere around here, I think… but she doesn’t really go hunting? Not unless she acts on her animal instincts, because she’s a spirit and doesn’t need food.” He looked around. “Oh, there she is– Jellie! C’mere, pretty girl!” 

Impulse laughed. “Alright, thank you Scar. How was Cub, by the way?”

“Oh, he was great. He says hi to you, too.” Scar rocked Jellie in his arms like one would a baby. She seemed to be okay with this– as okay as a cat could be with something, at least. “We just talked about some stuff, the usual. Magic this and that, y’know?”

“Sounds like a blast,” Impulse commented, to which Scar nodded enthusiastically. 

“It’s so cool! Cub just knows all these cool things, and he’s so smart–” 

Aaand Scar was rambling again. Impulse did his best to pay attention to everything the other knight was saying, but got lost somewhere along the lines of “...and then these big chompies came up from the ground!” which, in his opinion, was a perfectly valid place to get lost at. He had no idea what “big chompies” even were. 

That night, the knights set up a campfire to sit around and chat. Although it was a lovely night, with a clear sky and warm air, Impulse found himself growing… not exactly restless, not exactly tired, but something akin to a mix of both. He excused himself for the night, and figured that going to bed a little earlier than usual would be good for him. Pearl was usually right about things like that. 

Impulse fell asleep, and dreamed of twisting bridges high in the sky.

[mogamingthe1st]

Life Series Playlist (Outdated)

An update (below cut)

Third Life:

To My Enemies by Saint Motel- This one is the vibes for the start of the season. Upbeat, not a whole lot of angst yet.

I Can't Decide by Scissor Sisters- Bdubs betrayal of Impulse

Dead Girls by Penelope Scott- Scott after Jimmy's death. "I don't see her but I see her and I know it isn't real but I fake it anyway"

American Healthcare (Glitzy) by Penelope Scott- Martyn, specifically his alliance with Ren

Choke by IDKHOW- More vibes, but later in the season, the red army is coming.

Bad Bad Things by AJJ- The Red King, "If I don't go to hell when I die I might go to heaven, might go to heaven but probably not"

Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives- I might remove this, it used to be Grian's song for being the winner of the season, but I changed it.

Lukewarm by Penelope Scott- End of season Grian and his win. "Throw a punch, watch it sail through the air; keep talking but there's nobody there" among other lyrics.

Last Life:

Hayloft II by Mother Mother- Setting the stage for this season, it's unhinged in an angsty way is how I describe it.

Tongues and Teeth by The Crane Wives- Cleo burning the forest. Yes this one is specific, but it does double as the vibes of the Fairy Fort alliance.

Who Are You Really? by Mikky Ekko- The southlands alliance. Just them.

Born2Run by Penelope Scott- This is later in the season when things are picking up and there's more drama.

Bad Girls by M.I.A.- Gaslight, gatekeep, and girlboss because they deserve it <3

Curses by The Crane Wives- Scar? I want it to be Scar. "There's still cobwebs in the corners, and the backyard's full of bones" he is lonely and it makes me sad

Feel Better by Penelope Scott- Bdubs. Bdubs and Etho omg. "But someone loved me, someone fucking loved me"

Goodbye by Bo Burnham- Scott as his winner's song. I feel like Scott finished the series realizing he was now alone even though he won.

Double Life:

Smokey Eyes by Lincoln- Once again we begin with the overall feel of the season.

Canary in a Coal Mine- haha rancher duo, I love them, I'm not over the canary curse STILL being real after 4 seasons, wtf man

You and Me by Lifehouse- A nice song for the healthy relationship that is clock duo. Also it mentions clocks. (I specifically have the extended wedding song version lol)

Too Close by Sir Chloe- This one is desert duo and Ren and bigb, but I really think it's from Scar's POV "you get too close, take the one I love the most"

Burning Pile by Mother Mother- Boat boys. The ship burns everything burns. Yep.

No Children by The Mountain Goats- Listen to this in the context of double life and tell me it's not Scott and Pearl. "I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow, I hope it bleeds all day long"

Limited Life (very unfinished):

Never Be Alone by Shadrow- I know, I know, but hear me out. This season feels very watcher-y and also brings back the boogeyman and just feels like everyone has to be on edge at all times.

Fighting With The Melody by Jimmy Urine- honestly idk I just brought this one over from my C!Grian playlist because it fit. "Welcome to your fate, end of the line" and "You are so dead, dancing with the enemy"

Hell's Comin' With Me by Poor Man's Poison- I have this down for TIES, but mostly Impulse since he made it to the end, idk

Problems by Mother Mother- The bad boys yeeeaaaaahhhhhh. "I am a sinner, you are a saint" among other lines.

I'm Gonna Win by Rob Cantor- This is Martyn's winner song, he legit went insane at the end there what can I say. "I'll never lose, I'll never die"

Here's a link also I will take suggestions, this is legitimately just my music taste

[wonderneverlandsystem]

And so the game has begun again. An endless cycle. Limited Life has started, and so it will end. Essentially a summary/explanation of Session 1, in case you can't/don't want to watch all of the pov's, and no this isn't gonna be very organized.

So much has already happened in one session. The Canary Curse has been transferred to Skizz, Scar had the first natural death and has completely gone off the PG-Rating. The universe is toying with their Star, ie. making Scott the first Boogeyman of the season when he refused to kill his Soulbound at the end of last season. Grian, Joel, AND Jimmy, YET AGAIN, chose to live on something extremely flammable, they have yet to learn from their past lives mistakes.

Scott gifted a Pufferfish of Peace to Jimmy once again. Cleo set The Bad Boys' Mansion on fire and it spread throughout the surrounding forest. Bdubs' clock issue has grown. . . . Yeah.... There's no way to make that sound not bad. Scar's processing and reaction time has slowed down even more somehow- There were three Boogeymen this session, Scott, then Bdubs (who both killed poor poor Skizz), and ending off the session with Martyn who killed BigB. Bdubs and Scar (B&S) are looting the server, though not really successful, they did get animals.

Grian never fully escapes the strings tying him back to Scar, they might not be grouped together, but Scar still found and bothered Grian. As for the Moon & Stars... The ties from last season, while loose, have yet to be broken as they too found and ventured together for a bit. Cleo is now a mother to a clock obsessed plant boy and an accident prone salesman, they are now known as The Clockers and live atop Entertainment Mountain/Rock across from The Bad Boys' Mansion. Scar is collecting some odd items, and being insistent that he cares not for wizardry or magic.

Scott and Martyn are living in the middle of a Coral Reef called The Coral Isles, and they call themselves The Coral Kids, I can only imagine how that'll end. BigB spent a good portion of the session mining before Pearl found him, Martyn meeting up with them shortly after and said a rather odd quote about the Moon, even equating it to Pearl. "The moon's high, you might die. That's what they say when Pearl's around." Pearl went off to find the remainder of the people she hadn't met, only to find a cat which she tamed, and BigB again. Pearl has decided to align with him for now, and they decided to go on the move, making jokes about how suspicious BigB is and about 5 am Pearl...

They did end up deciding on living very close to the Mansion and Entertainment Rock though, naming themselves Nosy Neighborsfor now. Then Martyn found them again, the Boogeyman curse taking hold of him and he killed BigB who was rightfully suspicious of Martyn. He did try getting an explosion kill before but... Well it only killed some cows. (P.S. Idk if Martyn does the sound/music for his videos but whoever does it is AMAZING.) Joel was gonna make a place in the ocean with Jimmy before finding out it was already claimed, and Etho was jealous that Joel was going to build a boat with someone else.

Scar's memories about when he was a Boogeyman and that life season are a bit fuzzy, Cleo remembers that life season rather clearly though as she later told Pearl to be cautious of BigB since she's teaming with him, and in the past BigB got the Boogey Curse and killed Cleo who was his Day 1 Buddy. Tango, Impulse, Etho, and Skizz I believe are grouped up, they are T.I.E.S. and they live underground. Despite his kindness Skizz was killed twice and also by a creeper, though he still managed to get full iron (minus helmet ofc) and some diamonds. He will probably be the first Yellow Lofe of the season, hopefully the Canary Curse won't stick with Skizz, with luck (good or bad who knows) it will return to its rightful home. Have fun Jimmy.

[sweetest-honeybee]

Down to Dust

Chapter 1

Fic Summary: Grian will have to keep the dragon egg secure for the Watchers. But, they’re not the only ones who want it. On a completely unrelated note, Mumbo will have to deal with a version of himself thats only amplified by his No Killing mindset.

Chapter Summary: Grian’s getting tired of Scar’s shit and Mumbo thinks he’s a responsible adult.

Word Count: 1392

TW: None

Note: TEGG doesn’t exist in this fic

Enjoy!

———————

This was the third time this week that Scar managed to find Grian’s hiding spot for the dragon egg. Grian was sure that he couldn’t have possibly found it behind one of the sheep in his farm and yet, here the two builders were, one with a proud smirk on his face and the other glaring with a somewhat playful disdain. They stood in the center of Grian’s base interior, the avian cradling the egg in his arms.

“Someday I’m going to hide this egg a thousand blocks away in the ocean,” he said. “I bet you’ll waste your time then.” This was only met with a snort.

“Hey, I might. You never know,” Scar shrugged. “You never let anyone near it, it only makes it more fun!”

Grian rolled his eyes, biting back a smile at the other’s blatant ignorance. “I never let you near it. Besides, it's a fruitless attempt for me at this point.” He turned and rested the egg on a nearby anvil. “If I don’t let anyone near it, it’s because you told them to touch it in the first place.”

Scar raised a finger to say something but clamped his mouth shut with a reddening face. “Mumbo wanted to touch it,” he opted to retort.

The other didn’t reply, only facing his friend with a raised brow and crossed arms.

“Okay maybe I talked him into it but that’s not the point.”

Only now did Grian break into a grin. “Well, I hope you look forward to never seeing this egg again.” He tapped at the top of the shell. “It’s too special to lose.”

“Yeah I bet it is after it took five minutes to kill the dragon,” Scar laughed. “You’ve never told anyone why it’s so special, though. I’m curious.”

“That’s for me to know,” he jabbed a finger at Scar ,”and for you to never find out.”

“Ah, but I will.” Scar pulled his sleeve to check his watch. “But, my time here is done. I’ve got wagons to build.” With a tip of his hat, he exited the base.

Grian watched as the door shut behind him. “Talk about time management,” he mused.

With that, he sighed and swiveled his gaze to the egg. Under the later afternoon beams, it was a beautiful thing. Its contents, however...The avian shook his head. For now, it was a peaceful souvenir from his battle. Although, it wouldn’t be his to keep. Not for hundreds and thousands of years. It belonged to a much more powerful family of beings.

And so Scar needed to keep his hands off of it.

Despite this, however, Grian hardly minded the shenanigans. He wasn’t exactly praised by the egg’s owners; really, he lacked a more...optimistic relationship with them. Having his rank and abilities revoked by the Watchers was almost as bad as being disregarded by them as a Player entirely. He shuddered at the thought but followed Scar’s choice to leave the building; he wondered what his neighbors were up to. Although, he probably shouldn’t have left the egg so exposed should Scar try to touch it again.

He rolled his eyes to himself, then looked around. Scar, like he mentioned, was stringing together small wagons. Grian cringed at how much copper the man used in his builds- not because of distaste but that he could hardly imagine himself spending so much time grinding for the stuff. He glanced at his roof.

Well, maybe he could.

His gaze then rested on Pearl’s and Impulse’s bases, then Mumbo’s. It was strangely quiet this afternoon. He’d hardly seen any of the three since the day before. Mumbo moreso, but the other two not so much. Curious, he made his way across the field. Only then did Mumbo’s head pop out of a hole by his surface farm did Grian notice that anyone except Scar was out there at all.

Grian stopped and watched as his mustached friend pulled himself out of the hole. Unsurprisingly, he was covered in patches of mud and dust starting at the tips of his fingers. As he noticed that Grian was there, he waved.

“Hey!” Mumbo greeted happily. He stood and dusted himself off in a useless effort to look somewhat presentable. “Sorry about the mess, I’ve been fixing some things in the potato farm.”

“I thought that usually didn’t involve rolling in the dirt,” the avian chuckled. “I’m trying to keep Scar off of the egg.” Mumbo raised a brow. “No, it didn’t work.”

“Huh, I thought he’d never find it in the sheep pen.”

Grian scoffed. “You’d think.”

“You could hide it in someone else’s base. Or better yet, in his own base,” Mumbo suggested.

The avian contemplated the idea, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I can’t really let it go anywhere else.”

“You can’t or you won’t? I can babysit the egg.”

At that, Grian laughed a single ‘HA’ at the proposal. “I’d rather have Scar just take it,” he replied. “No offense. It’s a magical egg, you couldn’t handle it.”

The redstoner gaped with offense despite Grian’s comment. “I think I’d be great at it!”

“Right, right,” the other sneered, but couldn’t help but to giggle at the thought. Eventually, he calmed himself. “Anyways, I’ve got work to do. I suggest a bath for you as well.” Grian looked Mumbo up and down. “You need it.” With that, he rocketed himself away with a salute.

Mumbo stared in disbelief, then turned to Grian’s house. He’d be a great babysitter for the egg! Grian was only just trying to insult his obvious responsibility. Seeing as Grian couldn’t keep the egg away from anyone, it wasn’t like he was much better at the task. Besides, he couldn’t kill the dragon, so what better way to obtain a dragon egg than through showing Grian just how responsible he was with it.

With that thought, the redstoner looked around. Nobody other than Scar, who was busy building, was around. So, he more or less stealthily creeped his way into Grian’s base. If anything he probably looked like a long legged spider. Mumbo expected the dragon egg to be hidden once more but much to his surprise, it was blatantly out in the open. He almost face palmed for Grian’s sake. It was too easy. He hastily plucked the egg from its place and shoved it into his inventory. Hopefully, Scar wouldn’t find it odd for Mumbo to have been there should he notice anything weird.

Mumbo left quickly and already began conjuring plans for a vault. Knowing Grian, it hardly needed to be in any way complex. Where to put it, however, was the question plaguing his mind. He really didn’t have a lot of space to work with. But, the underground potato farm should work just fine. Behind the backdrop was a perfect area. So, he did just that. Within hours, the vault was done and dusted. In it, a quartz interior with a pillar topped with a purple pillow. Mumbo looked around, admiring his work. He then turned to the pillar and pulled the egg from his inventory. He placed it on the pillow carefully, almost as if he wanted the egg itself to be comfortable. With a pat to the top of the egg, he left the vault.

It’s been a while since he last saw Grian. The builder should’ve returned to his base by now and saw that the egg was missing. Mumbo supposed that Grian was simply hanging out with their neighbors. He ascended the ladder, still covered in layers of soil that fell from the wrinkles in his now stained white undershirt. The redstoner peeked his head out of the hole. The sky was dark and littered with stars. Zombies groaned and skeletons' bones clacked blocks away.

Ah, Grian might’ve been sleeping.

He sat on the edge of the hole, legs still dangling inside, and checked his watch. It was late and tremendously so. How long had he been under the ground for? He raked his fingers through his hair. Well, time to sleep then. He made his way to the van and after he did, he looked out once more before sliding the door shut. Tucking himself into bed, he drifted into a peaceful slumber. The thought of the stolen egg hardly left any thoughts on his mind.

[cobradoesmcyt]

Not just a game

@petrichormeraki has brought me angst ideas so I must write.

Quick little summery: It was all just supposed to be a game, and Grian sticks to this belief. At least he does until he can’t avoid the truth anymore

It was all a game. A fun little war, for the lols and the principle they’d all said with a laugh - diamonds being returned in letters and legal permission to further their schemes.

It was not a game. At least, it wasn’t anymore.

Grian had defended H.E.P’s actions as a part of the game, the Resistance had a base and now the H.E.P had one as well, simple. They spread the mycelium and they got rid of it, and placed grass instead. They sent out the sheep, and they countered with wolves. Simple, harmless fun, a turf war with no real meaning other than they just could. But then they infiltrated the new H.E.P build and suddenly the Resistance was starting to wonder how pure the other side's intentions actually were.

I mean who has a potion drugged ravager as their defence? Sure it’s good defense, but it's deadly beyond comprehension - and Tango knows this, yet he goes along with the plan, it's just a fun little game after all. And in the end Grian suffers because of it. Torn, shredded, crushed, bludgeoned, he goes through it all in a cycle, bed keeping him trapped in the death loop. Impulse and Etho desperately try to stop it, already knowing this is not an encounter Grian will get out of like it's nothing. Not only is that bad, but Tango is watching and he’s doing nothing, he watches the death loop and he laughs at Grian’s misfortune. That is the first time Impulse truly asks himself if this is really a game anymore - if anything it just seems like a twisted game of chess where they're allowed to think themselves in the lead, but in actuality H.E.P’s in charge. The dragon hybrid sheds a tear, because he knows he’ll never look at Tango the same anymore, not after he continues his taunts - playful and joking to any onlooker - even as Grian’s loop of pain and death goes on.

This is no longer a fun game between friends, it probably hasn’t been for a long time. And Impulse fears this will change Hermitcraft forever.

Grian suffers horrible damage from the repeated deaths, his spine has been weakened to where even just standing for a tiny bit too long will bring him immense pain, his lungs are horribly damaged after all the times they were pierced. He could no longer fly, grounded by the attack from H.E.P. Yet he says there is no true harm going on, it’s all just for fun!

Impulse doubts him, but there is nothing he can do other than warn his fellow members. H.E.P is out for blood. Grian’s blood. And they were willing to shed it however they deem it necessary.

So they protect him, protect not their leader but a wounded friend, from the enemy. Because that's truly what H.E.P has become, the enemy. And even after all the deaths, all the needless violence from H.E.P, Grian still believes it to be a game.

“They’ve just really gotten into it!” He argued with a cracked laugh, “They wouldn’t actually hurt any of us intentionally, we’re friends after all!”

No one has the heart to tell him he’s wrong, at least not then, to tell him the H.E.P has really gone too far this time. They know he won’t listen to them, too far into his belief that the H.E.P really don’t want to hurt any of them. That it's no longer just a game anymore.

Then Scar and Mumbo came blasting into the Mycelium Resistance base and suddenly the truth could no longer be ignored.

All the other Members managed to get out of the blast radius of the machine, but Grian - weakened from the Ravagers was not so lucky. A collapsing pillar trapped him on the side that H.E.P had breached. His fellow resistance members barraceded off from him.

Grian looked up at where Scar and Mumbo stood, both with gleeful smiles on their faces as they looked around the base, and his blood ran cold. Yet he prayed they were just happy they had found the base, and not at the damage and destruction they’d cused, but as his eyes met Scar’s he knew that was nothing but wistful thinking. Tears pricked in his eyes as he looked at his two closest friends, the two people he could always go to if he ever needed anything, a newfound terror and fear now filling him as he looked up at them.

This was no longer a game, he bitterly thought, it’s a hunt where he was prey.

Using what little strength he still had in him he threw an ender pearl towards the exit, Impulse meeting him there and catching him, and then he was pushed up through the water with the other not leaving his side once. Once in the ocean Impulse swam them both towards shore, Etho coming to help the two when he emerged. After that they all ran away, or rode away in Ren and Grian’s case - since Grian could not fly or much less move.

Grian had said there was a hidden room in Town Hall they could use, but no one in the Resistance wanted to risk being so close to H.E.P. So instead they headed way off, to lands not visited or lived in. None of them were ready to face H.E.P or anyone else right now, not so soon after the attack.

The whole way Grian satt numbly behind Ren and thought, thought about H.E.P and its members. Were they all out for them, like their leader and newest member, or was there some who weren’t? Tango-he was pretty sure Tango was on the same extreme as those two, the warehouse had proven that. Cub and Bdubs too probably, they were the most loyal to Scar after all. And Xisuma too he was so violently against mycelium as well, though he didn’t seem as violent and loyal as the other two. False and Keralis were both mysteries to him, as they both didn’t seem to be as extreme as the rest, but still who could even be trusted to not be against him anymore?

He let out a shaky breath and rested his head against Ren’s back, small tears silently starting to fall from his eyes. Hermitcraft was his safe place, a sanctuary he could heal within. But look at what it had turned into, him running away from his “friends”.

“Ren?” He tentatively called. And after seeing that the wolf was listening to him he continued, “Are-are they still our friends?”

Ren rowed silently, thinking the question over in his head. Finally he sighed. A sad, defeated, sigh of a man who just didn’t know anymore, “I don’t know G-man, I really don’t know.”

Days later H.E.P would come looking for them, curious as to what had become of their competitors. But they would not find them, not now and not ever. Because the Resistance had been found once, and they were not going to make the same mistake twice. Though Impulse did come to the Hermit meeting a few weeks later, much to Tango’s excitement. But the fire elemental stepped back in shock when the taller brunette growled at him, and Zedpah moved to his side in an instant. Though Impulse could care less about them now (no matter how much it hurt him to look at the two, he just couldn’t help but remember the ravager and Tango’s taunts from that day) his attention was fully on Scar.

“This started as a game between friends, something to have fun with and laugh about.” He spoke camly, a deathly calm tinged with ice, golden eyes hard with the same ice, “And you have made it a war between enemies.”

Cries of outrage came at his words, protest from H.E.P and Hermits filling the air.

“It’s not a war!” Bdubs argued, “As you said it’s all just a game.”

“A game does not make someone question if you are still friends or not!” Impulse roared, slamming his hands down on the table, causing totally silence, “It does not permanently scar or hurt anyone! It doesn’t not make someone terrified of you! A game wouldn’t warrant running away and hiding the only option!” Tears now fell down his face, all the emotions he’d kept at bay finally slipping past his defences, “It-it doesn't make Grian’s pain into something funny, his pain and health just something to brush off. He shouldn’t be considering leaving for real!”

Impulse looked from Scar to Xisuma, “Get your acts together, H.E.P, or you might just be a few Hermits sort soon.” And with that he left, not even looking back as Tango desperately pleaded with him to stay, or H.E.P calling out to him for answers.

But he would not budge, would not turn back to look at them. Because he knew if he did he might do more than just scream at them. They all had it coming, of course, but he’s leaving that for Etho to deal with.

Later that night Scar sat in his office thinking over the events of the past few days, “I’m not the bad guy, am I Jellie?” Said cat mewed at him, a paw on his leg as she looked up at him, “Of course I’m not! I mean it’s all a game and I really just couldn’t tell the other side wasn’t having fun anymore. Right? That’s all it is, right?”

Jellie sadly bumped her head against Scars leg, a mournful chirp leaving her. She could smell that something was off about the man, but she couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was.

Diamond blue eyes looked out at the shopping district, any hints of leaf green in them being overtaken by the blue, “Yeah, I’m not the bad guy.”

[damejudyhench]

Many thanks to @captastra @strangefable @jumpship90 and @kourumi for your writing prompts from the “touch” meme! They went together really nicely, so I’ve combined them into one fic. I hope you enjoy 😊

the prompts were:

2. Running fingers through hair

16. Massaging them

17. Holding the other’s chin up

32. Caressing the other’s back

34. Washing the other’s body

this is so indulgent to me, it’s sfw but I’m still sitting here like 😳😳😳

tags: canon-typical injury, blood, mention of corporal punishment, bathing kink, lying

Max took forever in the shower. It was a fact of life, a law of nature, as inevitable as gravity. Whether it was a trauma reaction to his time in Tartarus, his determination to prove that if cleanliness was next to Lawfulness then he was the most Lawful person on board, or simple vanity; once he was in there, it was almost impossible to get him out. Nyoka, the newest member of their crew, could pound on the door all she wanted; she might as well be cussing out gravity itself.

So Pearl let him be for longer than she might have, but eventually concern started to nag at her. Max was hurt; a larger than average mantis had caught them unawares while they were scavenging the canyon that lay outside of Stellar Bay. They’d all been left worse for wear, but Max had taken the brunt of it, and he’d staggered back to the Unreliable with his face pale, swearing through gritted teeth as he clutched his arm to his chest in the position of maximal stability that signified a fracture or worse. He might need her help. After a few cautious knocks on the bulkhead, followed by a few less cautious, Pearl used her Captain’s override and pushed inside.

Max rounded on her like a wounded animal cornered in its lair. Shirtless, his injured arm strapped against his chest, his other hand held his razor. His jaw was still more than half covered in shaving foam, and she could see a fine thread of bright red blood trickling down the skin of his throat.

“Yes, I am still using the bathroom! Architect forfend someone on this ship might actually possess any standards of decency…”

Screw him.

“Mind you don’t cut yourself,” she snarled back, and left him to his own devices.

Around five minutes later, as she lay on her bunk scanning through an old data pad, there was a knock at the door. Max stood in the gangway, his towel draped around his neck, a sheepish expression on his face.

“I apologise… and I would appreciate your assistance, Pearl. If you’re not too busy, of course.” His tone was courteous, but his face was tight and drawn, and she knew he must be in pain despite the strapping.

“Any time, Max.”

In the shower, she took the towel and the razor gently from his hand and set them on the sink, then turned to face him. His shoulder was bruised an ugly purple and red, fading to deep brown beneath his collarbone where it was dented and distorted. It looked sore as hell, and Pearl sucked her breath through her teeth in sympathy.

She pushed him gently back until he was sitting on the toilet, then took his canidfeather brush and applied a new coat of lather to his face. She shaved him with slow, even strokes, pausing occasionally to grasp his chin and tilt his head from side to side and then back so that she could check her progress. Max looked throughout as though he wanted to say something, but as in love with the sound of his own voice as he was, he kept still to avoid injury.

When she was done, she wiped his face clean with his towel and stepped back to admire her handiwork. Max got to his feet and shuffled toward the shower

“Of all the damned bones one might break, this has to be the worst… I can scarcely do anything by myself,” he grumbled.

“It’s the most commonly broken bone in the body,” Pearl replied mildly. Max had hang ups about injury, about physical weakness. He took it as a sign that he was straying from the path; or worse, that his path lead to destruction. Pearl knew because she’d been raised that way herself. Those who were meant to survive, survived.

That was how her job had worked. She’d treated those whose benefit to their corporation had outweighed the cost of their treatment. Of course, ultimately it was down to the Plan who survived and who didn’t, the corps were kind of a middleman, but the OSI said that was ok because the corps being in charge was down to the Plan too. It was a whole system based on a lie so obvious she couldn’t understand how she’d once believed it, or how so many people still did. Including the man in front of her, who was self conscious about asking for help when he’d broken his collarbone.

She locked the door, unfastened his pants and eased them down over his hips along with his shorts. She made a neat pile of his clothing, then reached for the sling that held his arm.

“You want to take this off or keep it?”

“I’d rather it remain dry.”

“Ok… you ready?”

She let Max brace himself, with his good arm supporting the other, then gently released the sling and added it to the pile. Max flinched, but nodded when she glanced at him. Pearl activated the shower, sending warm water streaming down over his body. She smiled at the sight of him. His hair fell forward into his eyes, and he gave a deep sigh of pleasure.

Pearl stepped back and frowned. It was going to be tough to wash him properly without getting herself soaked in the process. And Max hadn’t been able to shower for a few days, which would have been a torment to him. If she was going to do it, she ought to do it right. Besides, it wasn’t as though they hadn’t seen each other naked before. She undressed quickly, adding her clothing to his own, then bent to pick up the soap and the washcloth. Max’s eyes were wide, and whatever he’d wanted to say before seemed to have gone from his mind entirely. He saw that she was watching him, and hurriedly looked away.

The air was warm and steamy; the water pleasant on her skin. She soaped Max’s shoulders, his chest, carefully avoiding the injured area, then worked her way down his arms. His muscles were tight beneath his skin, and she dug in a little and squeezed, working out the knots in his body. He had thick, strong fingers that were just long enough to be elegant, she thought as she washed his hands. She went to her knees to do his legs, and noticed that his cock twitched a little, but when she looked up at him his eyes were closed, and he seemed quite lost in the moment.

“Spin around,” she said, getting back to her feet. Max frowned, and he once again avoided meeting her gaze.

“I’ll be fine now. Thank you.”

“What? You’re kidding. There’s no way you can use that fancy stick with the sponge on it… I’ll do your back, I don’t mind.”

Max gave a pointed sigh and turned, but she noticed the droop in his neck, the way he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Strangely, he looked frightened.

His broad back was a lattice of scars, and Pearl brought her hand up to her mouth to avoid gasping or otherwise making a sound.

“I haven’t seen it in a while… is it still as bad as I remember?” Max said bitterly.

“They did this to you? In prison?”

“Where else? I can’t remember what I did to earn it. I was hardly a model prisoner, not at first anyway.”

“It’s just scars, Max. You’ve got those grazes on your chest, some on your legs… it’s not that different.”

“It is different,” he hissed. “Because they broke me.”

“They… broke you?”

Max looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You were in prison for heresy, right? And look what you did as soon as you got out. You went straight after the journal, just as heretical as you were before. They didn’t break you.”

On impulse, she hugged him. Her arms around his waist and her chest against his back, both of them slippery with soap.

“You’re stubborn, Max. They could drop Groundbreaker on your head and you’d get up and keep right on going after the Equation.”

He laughed, a sound that was rare and delightful in its rarity, and relaxed beneath her touch as she ran the cloth over his back.

“You have a way with words, Pearl. And you may have a point. Nevertheless, I must ask that you don’t tell the rest of the crew.”

“Your secret’s safe with me… now sit down for this last part.”

Max settled himself on the tiled floor, bracing with his good arm. He leaned back against her legs, a pleasant sensation with his warm wet skin and the solid weight of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, rinsing out the worst of the sweat and the dust, then reached for the elegant glass bottle she’d had her eye on ever since the first time she’d set foot in his cabin.

Max’s voice carried a tone of warning. “That one’s  expensive, you only need a purpleberry sized amount - a fucking purpleberry sized amount, good Law!” Pearl laughed and ignored him, pouring the rich, sweet smelling shampoo into her palm. She lathered his hair, breathing in the scent of lavender and nearmint and Max. His hair was thick and soft, and he groaned in pleasure as she alternated between running her fingers through it and massaging his scalp.

When he was clean from tip to tail she helped him to his feet, let the water rinse over him. Finally, with a nod that mixed pleasure and regret, he was done. She towelled him off and helped him dress and reapply his sling, ran a comb through his hair. She doubted it was to his usual standard, but it kept it out of his eyes.

“Good as new, Max. So listen… our field guide, Nyoka, she’s got something she wants to do that she needs a crew for. If we help her out, she’s gonna give us a big discount in return. So I figure we do her thing, let you rest up, then once you’re all healed we can head out. I’ll find my broker, you can find your… scholar.”

“My scholar,” Max murmured. He took her hand, and for a moment Pearl was again convinced that he was going to say something, but instead he squeezed her tightly. “Thank you, Captain.”