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magicalbuffalotransformerman · 1 year ago

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{hey you guys probably don't know this but i have more ocs outside of the bone gang and the other guys i've mentioned (mythos!tricky the clown) / shown (the amoguses). i do. i hate this!*}

{my mind is full of people that i can't get outta there. none of them pay rent except for the tyrant °^°}

{anyway this post is about the greatknight, a.k.a. the big scary hunk'a metal i showcased like. week or so ago. maybe three. idk man i have had Zero flow for the bone gang recently.}

{more shit under the Read more, as always.}

{okay so the greatknight, right? you guys probably aren't hounding at the fuckin' bit to know anything about him unless you are my closest friend ever - and even then they're banished to the wizard realm rn so i can't talk to them about him-}

{look he lives in a castle. big black one. all dark and menacing, like a good villain should be. (yeah he's a villain, sorry for not telling you sooner.) and as a good villain, he's been alive for god damn centuries - hell, eons, if i count right}

{he once started life as this guy. some dude. a fella, even. he was a kid. grew up to become a hired sword* - a mercenary, you get him to do a thing for ya and you pay him for his troubles. if you didn't pay? you'd never see him again, as he'd not want anything to do with you. wasn't a fan of free labor - still isn't.}

{in his advanced ages, - like, forty, forty-five, - pre-greatknight even managed to marry a pretty lady! a charismatic and kind soul, even for the ages that they come from. she saw something in the pre-greatknight that he didn't see in himself and said 'alright. you. ring.'.}

{they were happy for a time. a long time. about ten or so years, before The Incident.}

{this is where the pre-greatknight started to mold into his current-day form. after The Incident, the pre-greatknight decided that he wanted to become a recluse, go be alone until he dies. unfortunately, while he was out searching for his hermit home, he got lethally ambushed by a buncha heroes who mistook him for a villain due to his appearance at the time.}

{blood spurted from damn well everywhere it could. the pre-greatknight felt his bones crack with every movement. he had an hour left in him, if he played his cards right.}

{however... well, shit works out. as every good villain needs an origin story of sorts, this one involves skeletons finding the pre-greatknight leaning against a tree and accepting his fate. one o' them figured 'ay, we's built this cool suit o' armor. think we can make 'im trade that 'umanity o' his for it?'. the other seven agreed with this rambunctious idea.}

{and wouldn't ya guess it, they patched him up and replaced what blood he lost with some fresh stuff. one of the skeletons popped the question, and the pre-greatknight went for it. 'oh, cool suit of armor? 'n' all i gotta do is stop being human? fuck it.', was probably what he said then if i had to guess.}

{anyway, an eternal thanks from both sides later, and the Greatknight was born. (so now i can stop typing pre-greatknight. yay!)}

{of course, this is not the greatknight good and proper, this is just base-level greatknight, what with his mercenary know-how and human-level knowledge. since he was ambushed by heroes, he figured 'fuck it, we ball' and became a villain. he left his home-village to find an excellent plot of land that would house his future bloodwoods.}

{fast forward like a shitload of eons because i am rapidly losing steam, he built his blood army, cultivated the bloodwoods, and made a name for himself as one of the toughest villains you'd meet. yadda yadda. here he is.}

{/// NO IMAGE ATTACHED ///}

{the greatknight's still around, of course. if you want to rack your head about what his name is, what he looks like under his helmet, what happened to his wife, or even what race he is - theory craft! go for it! god knows i can't fucking figure it out and i'm the lore guy here!}

{anyway. enjoy yaselves. i'm gonna go on a friggin hiatus and reblog more shit. maybe play the division 2 a bit more. right now though (1:46 AM at the time of writin') i gotta tend to my cat so she doesn't wake up the entire house - she's in heat. can't help herself.}

{weeeeeeeee}

[*i want to get their designs onto paper but i can't draw for shit and i am incredibly stubborn about drawing on paper. one of these days i'm just gonna say fuck it and train myself] [**hired gun, w/o the gun]

#the bloodwoods gang

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t4tpolypd · 4 years ago

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What about Hermit!Tommy au where Dream comes to take Tommy back to the Dream SMP and the hermits get very protective when Tommy says no

Tommy knew he couldn’t hide forever. What he didn’t know, is that he wouldn’t be the one to decide how long he stayed.

He had healed quite a bit. He wasn’t afraid of the hermits anymore, he was more used to the end and the like. He could fly quite gracefully as well.

He had a nice little cottage, with building habits courtesy of bdubs and grian. Everything was happy.

___

Tommy was in the process of building a cobblestone shop, when he got a ping on his old communicator. The old one. From the dream smp.

Hesitantly, he opened it up and saw a message from Dream.

“I know you’re alive, Tommy.”

His hands started to shake at seeing just dreams name, and it took him a moment to even process what dream had said. And when he had? Well. He ran to Grian first, and stumbled over his words. He was scared. He didn’t know if Dream even /could/ come to hermit craft, but he needed to be prepared either way.

“GRIAN. GRIAN YOU HAVE TO FUCKING HELP ME!”

“Uhh, ok, what is it?” Grian said, slipping the diamonds he had just collected from the barge into his pockets.

“D-DREAM HE KNOWS,.... HE KNOWS IM ALIVE,.. HE HES GONNA- H-H-HES GOING T-TO” Tommy continued to ramble, yelling too quickly for grian to even be able to process what he was saying.

“Calm down, I can’t understand what you’re saying!” Grian exclaims, handing Tommy a bottle of water.

Tommy breathes for a moment and takes a sip of the water, before being calm enough to choke out two small sentences.

“He’s coming. Dream- dream is coming grian.” Hes says, with a look of terror in his eyes.

Grian did know much about dream. But what he /did/ know, was that he had traumatized Tommy to the point that even the word dream not referring to the man made Tommy hyperventilate.

He was bad,

He was powerful,

And he sure as hell wasn’t going to take Tommy from their grasp.

___

Dream arrived in hermit craft, bringing tubbo, techno, and philza with him. He had tried to coax ghostbur into coming, but he was afraid of becoming Alivebur. He brought techno, who only agreed to come because he had a debt to pay off, and because these so called “hermits” had apparently brainwashed his brother. Or so Dream had said to the dream Smp.

When he arrived, he was surprised to have spawned in a cage of obsidian. He was surprised to see, through small cracks in the obsidian, that everyone was armed.

Tubbo grabbed his pickaxe and dug through the obsidian.

“Tommy! You’re okay, we’re going to get you away from these disgusting hermits!” Tubbo said, walking up to Tommy.

Tommy took a step back, leaving Tubbo confused.

Philza just sighed.

“He’s been brainwashed, Tubbo, what did you excpect.”

“Brainwashed? What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Tubbo seemed relived to hear that.

“Come on Tommy, let’s get you home!” Tubbo said with an outstretched hand.

Techno stood at the back with dream. He wasn’t sure if he should draw his sword, the hermits had their weapons drawn, why should he?

“What..? No, this is my home now? I’m happy here, there’s no war or fighting! Everyone is nice just to be nice! I’m not giving up all my progress, Tubbo.” Tommy said with something between a snarl and look of sympathy.

Tubbo sighed.

“Sorry Tommy, we need to get you home.” Tubbo said trying to grab Tommy.

“We’ll find a way to get you unbrain-washed there.”

Tommy tried to get out of Tubbos grip, but soon Techno, Dream, and Philza were trying to grab him too.

The hermits tried their best, but they weren’t strong enough against a literal god, a children who’s been through multiple wars, a war criminal, and some dad guy with wings.

Tommy knew what he had to do. He had never used rockets on his elytra, to traumatizing, he thought, but they would be way less traumatizing than the dream smp would be.

In one swift movement, he clasped on his elytra, grabbed his rockets, and blasted off.

Philza was the only one who could go after him in the air, seeing as Dreams flying abilities had faltered coming here.

Philza flew after the boy with the rockets, trying to shout things like

“Just come on! We’re gonna help you!”

Until he felt a sharp pain in his wing as he started to fall.

He had been shot.

Tommy breathed a sigh of relief and settled upon a large building.

Joe , only appearing now, had recruited a large army of dogs and sent them out to fight,

It was a whole server against 4 people. You can guess how it ended.

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #dream smp #hermit craft

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 5 years ago

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@theeyethatbinds Girl SING IT. SING IT LOUDER FOR THE GIRLS IN THE BACK, SWEAR TO GOD.

Like I’m gonna be real wit y’all I was looking forward to le Comte for a while, but I was always side-eyeing Jeanne. He’s a blunt hermit and grump and 100% mood, so I hoped his route would give me more insight into how I feel about him.

Ladies. When I tell you. It was EXCELLENT. I mean there are so many gr9 routes in the game, I don’t want to take away from them, but there was just something about his that hit me so hard???? (MY KOKORO BROKORO)

More under the cut since his route won’t be out for a little while (we still got Isaac, then Theo, then Jeanne), as a little treat. As usual, pls don’t read if you don’t want spoilers, thanks!

Okay so going into this route I was fully expecting the big sads. I mean, if history has taught us anything it was that Joan D’Arc was a badass but good lord, that doesn’t mean the people of her time were kind to her. (I need to do more thorough research on her, so if I’m getting any of her pronouns wrong or neglect something, I do apologize.)

That being sad, I was like aight DECK MY SHIT WITH TRAGEDY, JEANNE. And at the beginning it’s p fascinating. He’s very ornery and resistant to any kind of consideration or attempts at friendship MC extends. But eventually, after a good deal of persistence, he relents little by little.

I’d also like to level with y’all for a sec. Being someone who knows a great deal in regards to the kinds of mental and emotional shit Jeanne struggles through, I think they handled that part of the route so, so well. Granted, I’m not the kind of person to launch a crusade over different writing styles--but for me it just feels all the more poignant when it makes sense; when certain dispositions or trauma are conveyed with that depth. To me, it made 100% sense that Jeanne would be so against accepting other people into his life immediately.

He and Mozart vibe because they’re so similar, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s comfortable letting just anyone in--much less a complete stranger. I think it’s more that Mozart and Jeanne share a kind of indelible bond/mutual recognition through their talent, actually. They were both prodigies, absolute geniuses in their fields (military vs. music) but their social skills were shot to hell for the very same reason. To be brilliant--beyond one’s potential posthumous legacy--tends to mean being hated. Plus, they’re both principled to absolute extremes. When they’ve decided on something, they will not waver. They’re stubborn and austere, but behind those walls lies a molten core of sensitivity.

This is important to understanding him, I think, before I move forward.

While one could argue that their reaction is a result of that deficiency of emotional and social support (which I entirely concede does contribute to the matter at hand, it shouldn’t be overlooked) I think the real crux of the matter here is control. Think about it. Among the oldest residents in the mansion (let’s say that were born more than 100 years within the range of the present period of the game) are Mozart, Jeanne, Isaac, and Shakespeare. What do they all have in common?

Extremity. For Mozart, it comes in the form of a kind of OCD, as perfectionism. For Jeanne, it is generalized anxiety and PTSD. For Isaac, it is primarily social anxiety--but it’s still noticeably severe. And Shakespeare runs around with a knife, insecurity through the roof, literally unable to trust anything or anyone (psychosis? schizoaffective? I’m really not sure, these are all ballpark assessments based on the evidence I have). In order to adjust to their new surroundings, there was a cost--and in some ways their coping mechanisms become noticeably maladaptive. They were born into eras that were mercilessly unpredictable, and the only way they knew how to cope was to was to either take the blame--make it a personal failing that tragedy struck--or try to immerse themselves into their craft. They all seek to regain some kind of control (this is even visible in Vincent, to a degree--painting was an escape from his emotionally turbulent world).

Granted that’s not to say that the others don’t struggle with such issues at all, I just feel like the characters from more unstable time periods tend (as a general trend) to mirror that instability within their personalities.

All that being said, (I apologize I am a tangent-monger and love meta), Jeanne’s self-imposed isolation is only partially caused by the above dynamic. Yes, he is unwilling to let people into his heart for fear of betrayal. (It’s almost like an entire nation clamoring to watch you burn for something you didn’t do after spending your entire life and talents trying to protect them would do that to you, but I digress >:| ). But there’s another devastating and potentially less obvious reason for keeping people out.

He thinks he deserves it.

Loneliness, melancholy, aimlessness. These are all the punishments that he incurred on himself after a life of what he conceives to be considerable sin (hahaha battlefield enemies go ripppp). Whether or not he was operating purely out of a sense of duty, even if he felt sympathy for his enemy combatants, it’s not enough. And the condemnation of his king, of his entire nation, only served to magnify that self-loathing to a dangerous degree. (Don’t get me started on his parents I’m still so angry >:| they more or less disowned him since he was constitutionally weak as a young boy, and thus could not serve as an adequate farmhand. Don’t work? Don’t eat/live).

It’s hard enough living in a reserved way because you’re afraid of getting hurt, but to think that you deserve it when hurt finds you, no less? And my favorite part, that he’s so profoundly sure that it is an extension of a personal, fundamental failing? That for a person to survive, they must be strong, that there can be no other way--that there is no time or space for ruminations on fairness or unfairness, there are only those who manage to survive and those who die.

Now my friends, esteemed comrades, legendary sluts. Is that enough for us, Cybird asks, are we feeling enough pain quite yet? Fuck no.

Most of his route after we get over the hurdle of his hesitation is just him. Being. Bashful and gentle as all FUCK. Like he is the definition of “I'll kill you, but also I’m babie.” For instance, she insists on teaching him how to read and write at night when she finds him trying (and not succeeding) to read “The Ugly Duckling”. Yes I mean the children’s book. I CRIED THE FIRST TIME AND I’M CRYING NOW. So, naturally, MC buys him a notebook to practice with and he puts his name in big letters on the front. When MC sees this, she asks him about it--wondering why he would given he’s so self-conscious of his own writing (boy writes all squiggly like a little kid because he’s never done it before ;-;).

The scene goes a little something like this:

MC: Wh....whatcha go there Jeanne? Jeanne: ? My notebook? MC: I...mean that you wrote your name on it? Jeanne: Yeah? MC: Why? Jeanne: ._. It was a gift from you, and I figured it'd be hard to practice if I lost it...so I put my name on it... (HE WAS SECRETLY TOUCHED I BET AND IM--) MC: Why such big letters? Jeanne: So people can spot it quickly, obviously MC, inches from crying and laughing: Jeanne: Mademoiselle??? Why are you laughing? MC: Because you’re cute, Jeanne!

Like. They start out so rocky and Jeanne is so SIGH. I guess I’ll agree if it’ll get her to stop looking so sad and ask me to join her for stuff. But then he just can’t help but go full softe at how patient and kind she is, starts feeling comfortable just...being who he is deep down. A man that’s always hoped for better in life, a person that only ever takes up his sword to protect--that has an incredibly pure and clear heart, despite so much pain.

And good lord, they are GOD TIER romantic slow burn???? Swear to everything holy, I was BEGGING for them to make out by like chapter 10, I was just suffering for most of the route until the bangarang premium. Here’s probably my favorite moment in the entire route:

Basically Sebastian and Mozart pull out all the stops trying to bring Jeanne and MC together (once they see Jeanne show some interested in her). And so Jeanne asks her to join him in the courtyard the next morning, and they’re playing with Cherie (Jeanne’s pet baby white tiger). Besides being ungodly adorable--because Jeanne invited her for the sole purpose of hoping to see her delightfully surprised--Mozart begins to play a love song nearby. They don’t name the tune, but Jeanne canonically starts singing along (I wholeass cried, I WANT TO HEAR HIM SING????). And so she asks what the song is about, and he explains that Mozart once played it for him, but he couldn’t make out the words at first. Mozart explained that it was a love song that speaks to the difficulties of being in love (the worry, the strife) but also the beauty of the intensity and passion. He goes on to say that even when he learned the words, it never made much sense to him back then--it never resonated.

He’s singing softly with a fond look, and so she asks, does he understand it now? And he looks her dead in the eye, and says “...I think I’m starting to.” Like. AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT LOSE MY MIND AT THE TENDERNESS????? WHAT A SMOOTH MOFO????? MAN RAISED TO BE A SOLDIER, NO KNOWLEDGE OF ROMANCE OR WOMEN, AND KILLS ME IN MILLISECONDS?????? I DEMAND JUSTICE. (Or it’s just me thinking sincerity is the best aphrodisiac, but that’s beside the point.)

This has been your quarantine 2d boy meta and yelling, provided by your local mod Minnie. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to get to the things I’ve been procrastinating on while reliving/dissociating about one of my favorite rts in the entire game. Stay safe and well out there y’all, peace out!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp mozart #yall like #this reply just launched me right back into my jeanne feels #i dont have words for how much i love him #he's just such a good dude????? such a good dude #he really is trying his best pls give him love for me if you can #i binged his route almost as hard as sg's bc it was just t h a t sweet and compelling #i also cried like a baby #he deserves better and he deserves love #i will protect him forever #does that mean that in every single route i am acutely aware of the fact that I can't help him?#:))))))))))))))))))))))))))) life is pain. life is a party and jeanne and i are the pinatas.#and no i dont wanna talk abt it there will be no more questions LDKJH #just kidding around if anyone has any questions yall are free to send em! I'll answer to the best of my ability~#anyhoot ty @theeyethatbinds for bringing all those good feels back #you are a legend and you have wonderful taste we stan **cheers**

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martuzzio · 4 years ago

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Ok so this might be a bit of a cheesy idea but i dont know much abt hypno or his videos (yet. Planning on catching up on him soon) but like. Consider. Hypno comes from some sort of alien species that has sort of,, hypnosis abilities? This could also be useful for his job on the craft as the therapist, maybe using his abilities for a sort of. Hypnosis therapy? If u know what im saying.

I love the idea! I’m not too familiar with Hypno either since I’m a pretty new subscriber, so any advice on his character and background lore is a huge help. Also, I’ve been really enjoying drawing the hermits as aliens lately! I somehow managed to avoid all of the hermits with obviously non humanoid skins (like Doc and Jevin) until this final stretch. I’ve realized I like adding alien features and lore to these guys, so here’s the list of hermits I haven’t drawn yet:

TFC, Bdubs, Doc, Hypno, False, Grian, Joe, xB

If you have any ideas on how to incorporate alien traits to these guys, let me know! I’m very interested as always to hear your suggestions :D

Space outlaws lore can be seen here.

#asks and answer #space outlaws lore

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afrocentric-divination · 8 years ago

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Hello, and thank you so much for your time. I've been at a crossroads for a while in terms of my spirituality. Im Nigerian and was raised Catholic, and at one point I wanted to become a nun. But after some contemplation (and some history classes) I decided to stay away from religion. But I also feel a pull towards practicing a craft. I'm just not sure what direction to go in, especially since I've told no one about this. Can you do a reading for me? I would appreciate it very much.

The Lovers, The Hermit, Knight of Cups, Page of Cups, 3 of Swords

Usually the lovers come up in love readings but in this care, I get the feeling that my cards are trying to remind you to love yourself. You’ve gone through a bit of a journey with trying to figure out what you want to do spiritually, so lovers is just saying from now on love whatever you choose to do with your journey, whether you hope form one path to another or continue on one single path for the rest of your life.

The hermit coming up is not only confirming you not telling the people around you but the need to look more in ward and to stay more on your own. Now is the time to read and learn and to maybe pick up on a little bit of mediating. Knight and and Page of Cups is giving me a lot of emotion, amplifying the Lovers Card and just solidify that you indeed need to learn how to love yourself more.

Also, I’m getting the feeling that you’re already in a relationship? I know I said the Lovers is a bit different for you, but my gut keeps saying that the relationship you’re in now will help play a part in your journey. So, try not to close your heart when it comes to conversations about this. If you’re not ready to talk about it, then by all means, wait until your are. But eventually you will have to say something. Not because you have to, but because you want to.

So to conclude this reading: Welcome to the craft! We have crystals, tiny bottles and cookies, with herbs in them😄! It’s a brave thing to able say your interested in the craft! There is a lot to learn about it so I can understand you feeling confused. But just look around first. See what things spiritualists and witches do. Look at youtube videos. There are a lot of black witches on here and if you check out the #Afro Witch and #POC witch tag you’ll see a lot of us witches in action. I personally advise reading up on just about anything and observe for now. Eventually, you’ll find something your interested in and when you do, take off with it!

And if you have questions you can always come off anon and come talk to me. I don’t bite lol. I have links for this blog that can help you get started. If you’re on the web browser you can find them on my blog, but if your not I don’t mind sending you links!

Have fun on your journey!

🔮 – Free Readings Are CLOSED – F.A.Q. – Already Answered – 🔮

#long post #afroreadings #Sorry this is long #I just get excited when theres a new witch or spiritualist in the making!

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vanonmineblr · 5 years ago

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WIP fics~

I’ve mentioned the fact the I’m writing fanfiction a few times in the tags, but I have yet to post any of them (I suffer from the case of incomplete fics), so I feel like posting the WIP versions here partially to prove that I am actually writing things, and partially for advice/criticism... So enjoy I guess? (This will be updated as WIP fics are updated :P)

Tired Spoon [Mumbo fluff, 3/5 complete]

Mumbo smiled, stepping back as he looked at his finished project. It had taken him a while to build his new storage system, but it was done, and he was chuffed to bits about it. Well, he still needed some of the filters, but that could come later. The main mechanism was working, and the rows and rows of chests had been placed. He’d worked non-stop on it, fixing issue after issue in the circuitry, unused as he was with this new type of storage system that worked using new features from the 1.15 and 1.16 updates that had sent redstoners everywhere into a frenzy. It wasn’t the most efficient system out there, but he’d designed it all on his own and he was proud of it. And now, now it was all working. And he was far more tired than he’d realised when he was absorbed in his work, a small sigh escaping his lips. Despite this, he frowned as he looked at the undecorated area, knowing he could clean it up a little first. It would only take a few stacks of concrete, he told himself, and surely he still had some somewhere.

He walked towards the neatly labelled chest, opening it and frowning at the lack of concrete in there. He’d have to make some more then, though he swore that he had more than this just moments ago. Closing the chest, he let out another small sigh which quickly turned into a yawn as he thought of all the digging and crafting he still had to do to get the area looking decent. Maybe he should use cyan terracotta there, though perhaps grey concrete would fit better… He felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and just about jumped out of his skin as Iskall turned him around, looking at the mustached man with worry in his eyes. ‘Mumbo, are you okay there dude? This project is looking mega cool and all, but when was the last time you took a break?’ Iskall asked, concern colouring his voice. Mumbo blinked, about to push his friend’s arm off his shoulder before pausing. How long had it been? It didn’t feel like that long, but if it was long enough that Iskall, the one who had disappeared for nearly a week straight while working on his tree was worried, then it must have been longer than he thought. ‘Oh, well, that depends. What day is it again? I think I started working on it last… Monday?’ Yes, last Monday sounded about right. He’d lost track of the days after, well, he couldn’t exactly recall the day, but he recalled that the last time he’d checked the date, it had been Thursday. ‘Dude, the last time any of us saw you was nearly a week ago.’ Impulse chimed in. How long had he been there? In fact, Mumbo realised, when had any of the eight hermits that surrounded him even arrived? Had he really been tired enough that he didn’t even notice the sound of them arriving? Or maybe it was the click of dispensers and the rushing of water that had drowned their footsteps out, sounds that had been surrounding him for long now that he didn’t even remember that they were there. ‘Oh… But wasn’t it just the other day when I bought those redstone components from xB? Surely it can’t have been more than a-’ ‘Mumbo, that’s the last sighting that Impulse was talking about.’ The kind hermit said, brows furrowed. Mumbo frowned in response, trying to think against the tiredness that was trying to overtake him now that he wasn’t focused anymore. Maybe he had been focused on this project for far too long after all, but he still had to place that concrete. Just that and then it would be done for now. Just a few more blocks. ‘Oh. Well, I’m nearly done with this project, I just need to decorate the-’ As soon as Mumbo uttered those words, he could see that the hermits were not going to let that slide. ‘Nuh-uh buddy, you’re not going to be touching anything until those bags that are haunting your eyes have completely disappeared.’ Tango said, swatting his hand away from the chest that he barely recalled moving towards, other hermits nodded in agreement with Tango’s words.

Mumbo found himself with no chance to speak as the hermits swiftly moved, pulling him away from his project despite his weak complaints. He noticed Grian going through his chests and pulling out a spare change of clothes, and, looking down, realised how covered in redstone he was. His suit looked like it would need a few rounds of washing before it’d begin to resemble its former glory. Herded along by the hermits before his tired brain had a chance to register anything else, he found himself sitting in the guest room of Grian’s mansion, being told to get changed and have a shower as a pile of soft-looking clothes was thrust at him by Iskall. He nodded sleepily, and the hermits left to give him some privacy.

. . .

As he closed the door, Iskall looked at the hermits in front of him.

‘So now that that’s done, what’s the plan?’ He asked the room full of people.

‘He can stay at my place for now, but someone will need to watch him to make sure he gets some rest.’ Grian responded.

‘I can watch his gorgeous face for a few hours, since I don’t live too far away!’ Stress volunteered. ‘Besides, I kinda feel a bit guilty that I didn’t check on ‘im sooner…’ She added softly.The hermits fell silent at that, Impulse putting a hand on her shoulder as if to reassure her.

‘I can help watch our tired friend as well.’ Scar said, breaking the tension that had filled the room. In the end, Stress, Scar, xB, and Iskall all volunteered to watch Mumbo, though from the hushed discussion between Impulse and Tango it seemed like they might be planning something else to surprise the overworked redstoner.

Slightly worried that it was taking so long for Mumbo to get changed, Grian and Iskall decided to check on him. However, the creak of the opening door only revealed their mustached friend fast asleep on the bed, not even under the covers due to how quickly his tiredness had caught up to him. Iskall let out a quiet chuckle at this, only to be overdramatically shushed by Grian.

‘Be quiet, he’s sleeping!’ Grian whispered in his best motherly voice.

‘You’re being louder than I am!’ Iskall whisper-yelled back at him. The two looked at each other for a second, before stifling their giggles that they simply couldn’t contain.

‘Since you’re being so motherly, why don’t you tuck him in and kiss him goodnight then?’ Iskall murmured through his laughter.

‘Only if you help!’ Grian quietly responded.

And that is how they spent the next half an hour, the two men still stifling their laughter as they struggled to gently tuck Mumbo under the soft woolen covers of the bed.

. . .

Mumbo woke up with a start, unsure as to where he was due to the unfamiliar surroundings. He vaguely recalled the events of the previous day, and, looking up at the spruce roof, figured that he must still be at Grian’s mansion.

He sat up, pushing the red blankets off of himself as he did so, and looked around the room. It was most definitely Grian’s base, his friend’s distinct style easily recognisable to the redstoner. He noted the neatly folded suit on the nightstand, a note on top written in what looked to be Iskall’s handwriting.

‘HEY DUDE HERES A CHANGE OF CLOTHES THAT GRIAN GRABBED FOR YOU. IM PROBABLY IN THE FOYER IF ITS STILL MY SHIFT WHEN YOU WAKE UP. XB MADE FOOD AND WE SAVED YOU SOME SO COME EAT’

Mumbo smiled as he read the note, placing it back down next to the clothes. Should he bother to get dressed before having breakfast? Or maybe brunch would be a more accurate term, the disheveled man corrected himself as he looked out the window at the sun that was already high in the sky.

In fact, he realised, he had yet to actually look at the clothes he had so sleepily put on yesterday. Looking down, it appeared that Grian had also nabbed a pair of Mumbo’s usual night wear when he grabbed the suit, with the familiar loose white top and baggy grey pants, although, Mumbo realised, the shirt was most definitely on backwards.

He ended up getting changed and quickly doing his hair (and mustache) simply because of how disheveled he looked, especially in comparison to how he liked to present himself. He didn’t know how he managed it, but apparently his sleeping position managed to mess up his mustache completely out of shape, though a bit of careful combing fixed it easily enough.

He finally emerged from the room out into the hall, admiring how good of a builder Grian was as he did so. Everyone on the server was ridiculously talented, and Grian’s talents laid in building, as clearly shown in the sights before him.

Mumbo could hear two hermits arguing with humour in their voices as he approached the foyer. It sounded like Scar and Stress, though he was unsure as to what exactly they were arguing about, as by the time he got close enough to hear they’d resorted to joking insults.

‘Mumbo! You’re finally awake!’* Scar said as he spotted his mustached friend. Stress whipped her head around at an alarming speed to look at the man who was awkwardly standing in the doorway, a wide smile spreading across her face, only for the corners of her mouth to turn downwards as her face became serious.

‘You better not scare us all like that ever again, aight?’ She said seriously, striding up to the redstoner. Mumbo looked at the irritated hermit nervously as she approached, not entirely sure what her plan was. Despite his uncertainty showing clearly on his face, she walked right up to him, then stopped, wrapping her arms around him as the frown fell off her face.

‘I was worried when I saw your gorgeous face all tired like that. We all were.’

‘...I’m sorry.’ Mumbo said awkwardly, not entirely sure how to react, settling on returning the hug for now. Stress squeezed him tightly for a moment before letting go, ducking out of his arms, and moving back to a more comfortable distance.

‘In case you were wondering, you were asleep for nearly an entire day, which I actually found rather impressive. Also, Tango and Xisuma say you’re not allowed to work on any projects for another two days, and if they see you working on something you’re apparently going to be in a lot of trouble.’ Scar relayed with a smile, Stress confirming his words with an enthusiastic nod.

Despite the threat of Tango and Xisuma’s wrath Mumbo found himself smiling, knowing that they all cared for him. That was not to say that he had thought that they didn’t, although he’d be lying if he said that doubt had never clouded his mind on particularly lonely nights. Just knowing that his friends loved him enough to do all of this warmed his heart beyond words, and their stern words of concern carried only good intentions.

Silence fell over the room, heavy with awkwardness, until Mumbo spoke up again.

‘Uh, Iskall said- Or rather, the note said that xB had made food and you saved me some?' He said awkwardly, uncertain as to how long it'd been since Iskall left the note, or if it had even been Iskall who left the note after all.

Stress blinked, as if to pull herself out of a dream world before speaking. 'Oh right. I'm not sure if it's still good, breakfast was a while ago now love. Do you want me to make you something instead?'

*’Hey you! You’re finally awake!’ I thought, proceeding to leave the ooc sentence in. ((This fic is mostly complete, just need to write the ending (Tango and Impulse finish up Mumbo’s sorting system, bit more fluff) and fix up the dialogue a bit. Okay so it’s actually not that complete but shush.))

Wels Sleep [Actual title to be determined, angst or hurt/comfort, half complete]

Wels woke up more tired than he'd ever been. His entire body felt heavy as he pulled himself up into a sitting position, and yet he was determined not to go back to sleep. There were things to be done, and even if he only managed to do a little bit, that was still more productive than sleeping the day away.

He struggled to put on his oddly heavy armour, a tired sigh escaped his lips as he started brewing some tea, and he couldn't help but yawn as he finally sat down again. The hot tea helped wake him up somewhat, but at this rate he'd collapse as soon as he got out the door.

Something seemed off about the view outside, but at another glance it seemed like everything was in the right place, even if he couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. There was the same crazy build battle, and the same castle wall, so it must have been the rain that threw him off, or perhaps the tiredness that weighed down his bones was affecting his head as well. The trip through the nether was suffocating, the heat that pressed around him making him wish for the comfortable weight of blankets, and he was thankful for the cool air of the overworld once the journey that seemed to take far too long was over. Though he had to admit, there seemed to be a few more portals than he remembered. When his oddly tired eyes saw the rest of the medieval district, the medieval district he hadn't gotten around to building yet, the place which had seemingly grown several houses overnight, his growing suspicions were confirmed. He'd gone on hiatus.

He internally thanked whatever had given him the drive to stay awake, as if he'd gone back to sleep he probably would have slept in another week, but now the question was how long he'd been out for. From the look of the builds it must have been at least a month, but he couldn't say much more than that. There wasn't anything in the medieval district that he could tell the time from, so he'd have to check with the other hermits to know exactly how long it'd been.

This wasn't his first hiatus on the hermitcraft server, but it still felt odd, knowing that he'd been asleep for... However long it had been, especially knowing how much stuff the hermits could get done in under a month. No doubt he'd have trouble even finding the landmarks he was used to navigating with, although New Hermit... Ville? New Hermiton? He wasn't entirely sure, but it looked relatively unchanged.

Speaking of hermits, he thought, who was online right now? He raised his wrist to check his communicator hadn't broke during the time he'd been out, and luckily it looked like it was without scratches. It did take a few taps before it finally started, which was odd, because communicators usually only had issues on inactive servers, and Hermitcraft was anything but inactive when he left. Perhaps it was his communicator?

Either way, he made a mental note to talk to Xisuma about that, and looked at the screen before him. It had the usual joining message, but none of the 'Hey Wels!' he'd come to expect from the server. Looking at the list of those awake, it was easy to see why - no other names were listed underneath his, which struck him as odd. Usually there was at least a hermit AFK at a farm somewhere, as opposed to the unfamiliar sight of the completely empty server list before him.

Wels blinked, shaking his head slightly as he came back to reality. It was probably nothing, and he was still curious about the progress the hermits had made while he was out. So, with a shake to unfurl his wings, he instead decided to go for a fly around the server - knowing the hermits, even the terrain was probably different. Although he had been preparing himself for this, it was still a very weird feeling as he found himself unfamiliar with parts of his surroundings, the completed minecart tracks that slowly disappeared out of sight a bitter reminder that he had been gone longer than he knew.

The list of new structures grew and grew, and he wondered so hopelessly how long he'd been out as the hours passed with no other hermits logging on. If something bad had happened, they'd surely have left *something* to explain the events that took place, but the eerie silence simply filled his bones with a deep dread.

The shopping district was filled with stocked shops but no profits, just chests and chests of products and prices, yet not a single diamond in sight. Some shops were sold out, or had stacks missing from them, but it looked liked no recent customers had stopped by, not even in the most frequented shops. Cherry computers, the most profitable business on the server that Wels could so clearly recall [] complaining was sold out of repeaters again just yesterday, yet now the entrance was blocked off and nearby a giant timer using diamonds instead of sand with a Cherry Computers logo on top towered menacingly above the shopping district that wasn't his shopping district.

(TW: attempt at writing a sort-of panic attack? Not very good but fair warning anyway) He found himself staring at the floor, trembling, the only one online with no one to walk him through what had changed overnight even though it was not overnight and why wasn't anyone online and why wasn't there a sign somewhere, anywhere, something to explain what had happened when he wasn't there even though he should have been there with them but he didn't get a choice and why wasn't anyone online-

When Wels finally regained his sense of self enough to check where he was, he found himself inside of [], holding a stack of golden carrots that he was sure hadn't been in his inventory earlier. He vaguely recalled prying open the chest with shaking hands, although he could not remember if he had paid. A quick check of the chest revealed that he hadn't left any diamonds in compensation for the food in his hands, although he couldn't help but wonder if it was even necessary with the state of the shopping district. Despite his doubts, he left the appropriate amount of diamonds anyway, not wanting to risk the chance that the haunting silence was all in his head.

His communicator showed that no one else was online.

Despite the fruitlessness of it, he found himself typing a message into the chat. It was only a simple 'Hello?', but he couldn't help but hope that he would receive a message back. Perhaps his communicator had broken, he thought, and someone would be online and able to respond to his message.

The unchanging display declared that as untrue.

Finally, he gathered up his courage and walked back outside. He didn't need anything else from the shopping district, and even being out here once again triggered his anxiety, so he figured it was time to go back to his base. He'd figure out what to do next over a cup of tea, which he could certainly use right now. Xisuma and Biffa always loved tea, he thought bitterly, the face of his old friends surfacing at the mention. No, he corrected himself, Xisuma and Biffa were still alive and enjoying tea, and he would see them again soon. He couldn't give up hope just yet.

That tea was the worst he'd had in a while, bitter with the taste of his thoughts despite all the sugar he desperately added in an attempt to overwhelm the doubts that haunted him.

The list that declared him alone on the server did little to help.The next day he felt far more awake, almost too much so. It gave his mind far too much power to fill the silence, and so he decided to work on a project that involved noises. A doorbell, perhaps? Or maybe a mob farm. It didn't matter, just something else for his mind to focus on instead of the mystery as to where his friends were, and why they hadn't told him. Well, they couldn't have *told* him specifically, but sending a private message or placing a sign or book would have achieved the same effect.

At that thought, he once again looked at the communicator, and switched over to the last private messages he had received. It was the third time he'd checked, but it wouldn't hurt to check again. Unsurprisingly, the latest message remained an inquiry as to possibly collaborating on a project that had since been completed, something he'd noted as he flew about the server.

He decided to work on [project here] instead.The repetitive *clonk* of placing blocks drove away his thoughts for a while, more interested in getting measurements right than pondering the fate of his friends, but all too soon he got into a rhythm, and his worries made themselves known again. Frustrated he looked down at his feet, focusing solely on the task at hand with all his might, but it was no use, as seconds later he caught himself zoning out and theorizing as to what had happened again.

((Inspired by this post, Wels sleeping through season six angst, though with a bit of canon divergence sprinkled in. Anything marked with ‘[]’ is to be filled in later after I’ve double checked locations / products / interactions. Things marked with ‘* *’ are to be italicized later. Plans for this are that Cub finally comes online and Wels is like ‘and you didn’t tell me??’, possible Helsknight reference)) [There’s also a wip watcher!grian fic but that one is really long and needs to be updated severely (started writing at beginning of season seven) so not putting here]

#wip fics #my xB simp really shows with the first one huh #stress dialogue is really hard to write #tired spoon has been in the works for literal months thanks to procrasination #might remove poor attempt at some kind of panic attack in wels fic #wip fanfiction #future self this is important post #also not sure how sold I am on the use of vaguely recalled stuff #feels a little to much like an excuse #we'll see #but yes I am uploading them so they get a chance to see the daylight instead of rotting away forever #okay I think I'm done and am going to upload this like the fool that I am

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