#iskall is mentioned exactly once

[moriiartist]

s

scar.......mr capitalist man

-👑

‧₊ THEY SAY THE BEST THINGS ARE FREE

PAIRING: C!GoodTimesWithScar x GN!Reader

 SYNOPSIS: (Modern AU) You’re an up-and-coming designer, he’s a billionaire playboy with a taste for expensive clothing. Could I make it any more obvious?

WARNINGS: Fluff and angst (with a happy ending), self-doubt, very mild language

A/N: You can have a little capitalism, as a treat. I may have, perhaps, gone a little overboard with this fic. Also, fun fact- I listened to Money by That Poppy and Malibu 1992 by COIN on loop while writing this. The vibes? Immaculate. 

You considered money a... funny thing. The wealthy seemed to only get wealthier, while the poor, poorer.

To you, It was a virus, wrapping thick green roots all over people’s lives and digging in until there was nothing else left for it to take. Once a person had gotten a taste of wealth, of abundance, it was impossible for them to go back. Impossible for them to stop themselves from digging deeper and deeper into a pit of debt and desperation as they chased that ‘big break’, that pipe dream of having everything they could ever possibly want.

You had watched your parents be destroyed by it, sacrificing their dreams to take care of you. You had watched them give up so many things for you, working from sunup to sundown to scrape together enough finances to get you through school and into a prestigious design college.

You loved them all the more for doing so, you really did, but because of it, you found yourself slightly resentful of the people born into luxury. The people who didn’t have to choose between good housing or a good education. Of course, you couldn’t blame them for existing, exactly, but the constant interaction you had with them certainly didn’t help.

As one of the highest-marking graduates from your college, you were immediately hired by Gorgeous Inc., a custom clothing company whose services were among the best in the business. Their clientele list was a constantly rotating roster of celebrities, millionaires, and influencers that had all collectively decided to throw their money at an outfit they would wear only once.

The first few months on the job had been hell if you were being honest. You had started out as an assistant to one of the top clothiers, shuttling fitting supplies to and from appointments and trying not to piss off any of the customers too much. 

Despite your best efforts, even when you weren’t the one saddled with the undivided attention of whatever trophy wife had booked a session that day, you still had to deal with plenty of tantrums. It seemed like none of these people had ever been taught how to behave when things didn’t go their way, even going so far as to smash the beautiful (and expensive) champagne glasses the company had custom-made on the ground in a fit of rage. So, yeah, your opinion had some real-world experience to back it up- especially when you considered that that wasn’t even the worst you had seen. 

Eventually, you managed to work your way up the company hierarchy. You had never cared much for office politics and hadn’t done nearly as much kissing up to your bosses as some of your colleagues, but when clients started to become more and more interested in your work specifically- well, it was in Gorgeous Inc.’s best interest to promote you.

Of course, with your promotion to managing long-term customers, it was inevitable that you would run into him. Scar Goodtimes, the CEO of ConCorp Enterprises. 

Known for his love of couture clothing, and his even greater love for his cat Jellie, Scar was one of the most prominent figures in the upper circle- part of a highly exclusive group of the egregiously rich known as ‘the Hermits’. (Everyone wanted to be a member, nobody could afford it)

With fame comes plenty of gossip. You’d heard plenty of things about him in passing, but the thing that stuck out the most in your head was his status as the upper echelon’s ‘most eligible bachelor’. Despite his great fortune, the man had never married- stringing his starry-eyed admirers along with as much effort as batting an eye.

You weren’t about to lie and say you weren’t slightly apprehensive when his secretary had reached out to schedule an appointment with you. After all, if the people you had to deal with so far were merely ants compared to him, you could only assume that his behavior would be much worse. 

With every scrap of professionalism you had left in your body, you made the promise to yourself that you would give him nothing- no reason to possibly blow up on you. You were going to be the best Prime-damned consultant he had ever met.

Naturally, your whole plan fell apart as soon as you set foot into the room you had booked for your first meeting. As with all of Gorgeous Inc.’s fitting rooms, the decoration was opulent, yet tasteful. Your shoes sank into the plush carpet as you approached the sitting area near the center of the space, several soft-looking armchairs arranged in a staggered circle around a mahogany table.

You were early, as you always were, taking the extra time to set up for Scar’s- Mojang above, you still couldn’t quite believe you were fitting him- appointment. With an ease that only came from months of practice, you laid out the binder filled with fabric swatches and clothing designs that you never seemed to part with. The object was barely even able to close with how many ideas you had managed to stuff in it, and it was a miracle that it hadn’t exploded and sent paper flying everywhere already.

You jolted when the door opened, recovering almost immediately and turning with a polite smile towards the person who sauntered in. Your customer-service façade faltered as your eyes met his, every thought fleeing from your head as your breath hitched in your throat. 

Oh no, he’s hot. 

You had always been skeptical of how much the billionaire’s looks had been played up, but meeting him face-to-face wiped any and all doubt from your mind. His eyes, a stunning shade of green that reminded you of emeralds or lush rainforest foliage, glittered with an almost curious gleam as they pinned you in place. With inhumanly soft-looking hair and the barest hint of stubble brushed along his jaw, he radiated a confidence that sucked the air out of the room.

What parts of your brain were still functioning had the good grace to remember to shake his hand as he offered it to you, desperately scrambling to regain your composure. You were somewhat successful, gaining enough conscientiousness to introduce yourself with a pleasant incline of your chin.

“I’ll be excited to see what wardrobe we can come up for you,” you said, keeping your tone even and polite to disguise any residual panic that might slip in. You had to physically stop yourself from tensing as he chuckled, breaking eye contact with you for the first time since he entered to glance around the room.

“Let’s get started then, shall we?”

It was easier to ignore Scar’s… intense… presence when you were able to slip into the grove of your work, your smile becoming more and more genuine as you went through the design process. You were pleasantly surprised by just how knowledgeable the brunette was when it came to fabrics and composition, able to release some of the tension in your body when you realized that you wouldn’t have to talk him down from any impossible requests.

Of course, all of that stress came piling back on your shoulders the minute you had to take his measurements. You had never really thought about just how much you had to touch people in your line of work, but now you were painfully aware of every centimeter of your body that touched his, warmth leeching through the layers of his suit into the air between you.

Your hands were steady as they wound the tape measure around Scar’s torso, but internally you were freaking out. Every time you had to lean into his personal space, you were praying that he couldn’t feel how hard your heart was beating from the proximity. 

It certainly didn’t help that his eyes seemed to be boring holes into your back as you moved around, tracking you as a predator would prey. It was so disquieting, in fact, that you tripped on the coffee table and went tumbling into his chest. Scar’s hands flew to your waist, steadying you as you regained your balance. You took a moment to process what had just happened, your mind blue-screening, oblivious to the way the billionaire’s hands curled into the material of your shirt.

“I am so sorry, sir,” you rushed out, stepping out of his hold and smoothing over the black turtleneck you wore as part of your uniform. He let go slowly, almost reluctantly, a strange expression flashing across his face before it smoothed back into neutrality. “It was an accident- I didn’t mean to crash into you like that.”

Scar waved you off, a dangerous gleam in his eyes that only added to the embarrassed flush that was working its way onto your face. “It’s fine, really. We all make mistakes.”

You finished what was left of the session in a rush, the feeling of eyes on you only adding to your haste to get out the door. You were certain that you would be fired as his consultant, what with all the mistakes you had made, but after a full day of nerve-wracking radio silence, you finally received a message:

‘When can you schedule another meeting?’

So, from then onwards you were subjected to a series of events that made you question your own reality. You were hired on as Scar’s permanent liaison to the company, working with him on any and all of the clothing pieces he commissioned and seeing them through every step of production. It was quite the step up for you- under normal circumstances, it would take people in your position several more years to directly work under someone as influential as the CEO.

Meetings with Scar were surprisingly… pleasant, almost. The man was infinitely patient where others were not, and knowledgeable about your line of work, so the weirdness of his behavior wasn’t necessarily in regards to that. No, it was completely different from anything you had experienced before.

Scar was polite, far more polite than any other person of his status you had ever met. He insisted on opening the door for you wherever you went, waving your protests that it was supposed to be your job to do that for him off with a wink and a grin. On more than one occasion he arranged for food to be brought in for the both of you while you did your work, warmth spreading through your body whenever your hands accidentally brushed while looking through papers.

The man also happened to have very little concept of ‘appropriate spending’. As you had learned through articles and your own time with him, Scar had inherited Concorp from his uncle, and had enjoyed money and power throughout his entire life. Things that seemed egregiously expensive to you, he would buy without a second thought.

One day, without any prompting or warning, he presented you with a pair of brand new fabric shears because ‘it looked like the old ones were getting a little dull’. They were quite obviously hand-crafted, with glossy silver blades and a handle carved with a design like clouds.

“S-sir!” you squeaked, your feet rooted to the floor. You were unable to get your body to do something, anything, other to stare slack-jawed at the gift in the brunette’s hands with a mixture of trepidation and awe. “I can’t possibly accept something like that!”

Scar chuckled, a fond smile dimpling his cheeks as he shoved the box into your awaiting hands. “You’re too sweet, sugar. I’ve already bought ‘em, and it would be a real waste if you didn’t use them. What would I do with something like these?”

He waved his arms around emphatically, earning a small giggle from you. “I would have no clue what to do with them at all! It’s better for both of us, really.”

You sighed in defeat, pointedly ignoring the triumphant expression on the billionaire’s face as you tucked the box carefully beside your other supplies. “I guess you’re right, sir. Thank you.”

“Hey- haven’t I told you a million times before to just call me by my name? ‘Sir’ makes me sound... old.”

“Sure it does, sir.”

“Hey!”

You found yourself looking forwards to your meetings with the man, your professional smile slowly turning more real as he cracked joke after joke. It was hard for you to justify the excitement you felt as the appointments drew ever nearer as enthusiasm for a new project, sometimes even cutting short previous appointments to spend just a few more minutes in his enthralling presence.

The man was like a star, effortlessly pulling you and so many others into his orbit with every smile, every little moment that he looked at you like you were somebody worth listening to. It was so, stupid. So, so stupid of you to allow yourself to drop that shield of professionalism that had protected you time and time again. To let yourself befriend the man. To believe that he cared about you at all.

You had seen his type before. A rich man charming his way into someone’s life with lavish presents and pretty words, only to discard them like a child would a toy. A rich man blowing into your life in a whirlwind of laughter and light touches, only to storm out just as quickly. A heartbreak waiting to happen.

Despite how much it hurt, many nights spent biting back tears all over him, it was best for you to take a step back. Distance yourself a little. Rebuild the heavy brick walls around yourself that he had managed to charm his way past, and keep him out for good this time.

Bit by bit, you started to pull away from him. Your meetings which were once filled with amicable and easy-flowing conversation had shifted in tone dramatically. Your replies to anything he said or asked were polite, yes, but clipped, nipping any possible small talk in the bud. You fully resigned yourself to the role of ‘distant but helpful assistant’, shoving the parts of you that had laughed at his jokes into the deepest recesses of your mind. 

You weren’t here to play, anymore- not when you had wasted so much time pining over a man who could never love you like you wanted him to.

It was clear that Scar noticed the absence of your comforting presence by his side, a hollow space where you once stood. You caught the glances he sent your way when you weren’t looking, an expression that looked suspiciously like hurt flickering through his eyes (although you knew better than to believe that he could possibly be worried about you).

It shouldn’t have been as big a surprise as it was when the presents started rolling in in earnest. 

It seemed like every other day a new package or trinket was innocently sitting on your desk whenever you arrived at work, always accompanied with a small note from the billionaire who (most likely) had no idea about the butterflies that spawned in your stomach just from seeing him, hearing his voice. You had saved every single one, ignoring the pang in your heart whenever you caught a glimpse of his chicken-scratch handwriting out of the corner of your eye.

“Hey.”

You jolted in your seat, a nauseating mix of butterflies and dread stirring in your stomach. That voice- a light timbre that you equally adored and feared- could only belong to one person, the last person you wanted to see right now. You twisted around to see Scar leaning against the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of a pair of maroon corduroy pants that you had designed. “Um, hi?”

He shot you a grin (your heart skipping a beat), tilting his head to the side in a dog-like, but still so distinctly Scar, manner before stepping into your office. He rounded your desk, planting his arms against the smooth wood and staring down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes- fern green seeming to see straight into your soul. You hesitantly folded your hands in your lap, praying to Prime above that he couldn’t see the tremor in them, and arranged your features into the most neutral look you could. “Can I... help you?”

He blinked as if snapping out of some sort of trance, and shook his head to reorder his thoughts. “Yes, actually. Did you- did you like the glasses I sent you?”

Oh, the glasses. You had mentioned off-handedly one day that you were having problems with the sun getting in your eyes when you were driving, an annual issue that came with Daylight Savings. You should have known by now not to give the man any ideas, because barely twenty-four hours later and a brand new pair of Iskallium Premier sunglasses was waiting for you on your desk. Iskallium Premier, as in the number one couture glasses brand in Java.

You bit your lip, only just missing how Scar’s eyes flickered down to your mouth, and repressed the urge to slam your head against your office furniture.

“Yes, actually. I, uh, I appreciate the gesture, but…” you sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You did not want to do this confrontation. “I can’t take this.”

“Nonsense,” Scar said, mercifully leaning out of your space. “I ordered it directly from Iskall himself, just for you.”

Prime above, sometimes you forgot this man was just as, if not more, stubborn than you when he wanted to be. Unfortunately for him, this was not an argument he was going to win.

“No, sir- I genuinely cannot accept this. I know you mean the best, but you should just give these to one of your other employees. Not me.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Scar looked genuinely lost, brow furrowed and lips parted in surprise as he stared, wide-eyed, down at you. Despite your inner turmoil, your face was a mask of ice and marble as you met his gaze. You were not budging.

Scar shut his jaw with an audible ‘click’ after a moment of tense silence, still not breaking eye contact with you as he took a step back from the desk, furthering the distance between the both of you.

“Are you sure?” he said, searching your expression for any hesitation, but coming up empty. You fisted your hands, straightening your spine as much as you could to meet him head-on.

“Of course, sir.”

He exhaled slowly, face closing in a way that felt almost disappointed as he pulled away. Saying his goodbyes, the brunette took one more look over his shoulder before sweeping out of the room.

You locked your office the minute the sound of his footsteps faded away, curling up into a ball against the door and sobbing. You felt like glass, splintering into a million tiny fragments that could never be repaired. You felt like you were drowning, unable to breathe under the weight of your own emotions.

You had pushed Scar away to keep yourself from getting hurt, but every day you were with him but not with him, you were bleeding out from where you carved your heart out and handed it to him. 

You called in sick after you managed to drag yourself home, clutching your phone in shaky fingers from where you were huddled under your blankets. You could only hope you had hidden the sound of your sniffles well enough- Mojang knows how fast gossip spreads through the corporate chain. At least you wouldn’t have to contact Scar (you refused to acknowledge how you almost started to cry just thinking about him)- your boss would do that for you. 

The next few hours were spent wallowing in your own despair, eating straight from the ice cream carton, and watching whatever cheap rom-com movies you could find on television. Oh, if only your parents could see their pride and joy now- reduced to a teary, sensitive mess, all because you fell in love with a man who had never known a second of your struggles.

You fell asleep to the quiet murmur of the TV speakers, surrounded by tissues and an empty box of chocolates you had bought for yourself after valentine’s day.

The second day wasn’t any better than the first. You barely managed to force yourself into the shower before you collapsed back into bed, staring up at the ceiling. Now that you had no more tears left to cry, you were just… numb. Your chest ached, a hollowness that threatened to consume you radiating through your body.

You could only blink as knocking rang through your apartment, lazily flopping the arm you had thrown over your eyes to the side to stare blankly at the door. You were roused from your lethargy when whoever outside knocked again, this time with so much force they were practically banging on the cheap wood.

Calling out for them to ‘Give you a second’, you shuffled over and swung open the door to come face-to-face with sharp green eyes, soft brown hair, and a face lined with worry.

Oh.

Oh no.

“S-Sir?” you said, suddenly very conscious of just how much of a mess you were. Your eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with red, a clear sign that you had been crying, and the oversized shirt you had been wearing as pajamas was rumpled and covered in tear stains.

“Can I come in?” he asked, and you suddenly noticed just how out of breath he was- as if he has run a marathon before he stopped at your apartment. His chest was heaving under the silk button-down shirt he wore, his normal suit jacket tucked under one arm and his hair sticking out at all angles. Your fingers twitched. You wanted to touch it.

Instinctively, you stepped to the side, allowing what could arguably be the source of all your problems to enter your home without any fuss. You played with your hands, self-conscious as Scar took in your living space for the first time.

Your apartment was small, with plain cream walls and slightly ratty carpeting. You had tried your best to brighten up the space with colorful window curtains and a few pieces of art you had gotten on sale, but it was hard to look past the cracking in the plaster ceiling, or the way floorboards creaked with every step.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted, unable to stew in silence as he inspected the room any longer. Scar jumped, unprepared for the sudden disturbance of his thoughts, but shook the surprise off in record time. He spun on his heel, crossing the space between you and gently grasping your upper arms. Your breath hitched as his face drew inches from your own, the brunette’s eyes burning into your own.

“I was worried,” he murmured, voice cracking slightly. “They told me you were sick, and you weren’t answering your phone when I texted or called, and-” he cut himself off, turning his face away with a sharp exhale.

Your gaze wandered to where your phone was splayed across the couch, and you winced. You had been too distraught to consider charging it, and it was clear that it had died right before Scar tried to contact you.

Scar looked back up at you, something so vulnerable in his eyes that it threatened to make your throat close up. “I asked around and they told me you were crying, and when I look at you I can see that it’s true. What happened, sweetheart? Who hurt you?”

He was so genuine, so sweet in tone and touch, that it shattered what little self-control you had regained.

“Why do you care, Scar?” you cried, wrenching your arms out of his grip as fresh tears dripped down your face. The billionaire’s face went slack, shock spreading across his features as you curled into yourself. “Why do you care? I’m your assistant, for Mojang’s sake! You don’t have to worry about me- I’m just another person on your payroll.”

Scar’s face crumpled. “I care,” he said, stepping forwards to cup your face in his hands. “Because I am in love with you.”

You stopped breathing.

“What?”

“I am in love with you,” Scar repeated, thumb swiping at your cheek in a gentle motion. “Prime- I think I always have been. When I first saw you, I could hardly take my eyes off of you. I knew that you would be someone I would want to cherish for the rest of my life.”

You screwed your eyes shut, allowing yourself to be tucked into his arms. Squeezing your arms shut, you finally allowed yourself to admit what had been tearing you up inside all along: “You asked me who hurt me. It was you.”

The arms encircling you tightened, the man holding you releasing a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. “Is that what-? I- oh gods. I’m so sorry, love. I never meant- I didn’t want-”

You tightened the grip you had on his shirt, effectively shutting Scar up as you pulled him as close as you could possibly get. “It’s okay now. You’re here, and that’s all that really matters.”

You could figure everything- the forced distance, your tangled feelings, your guilt- out later. For now, you were content to hold one another as you finally released every single emotion you had bottled up over the months you had broken your hearts over one another. 

You would be okay, because, in a world where money rules all, you gave your hearts away free of charge.

[creationofacentury]

Explosive Invention

Summary: Grian’s an alchemist, and Mumbo is, you know, a vampire-ish guy. Grian has an idea, a mind-blowing one, and Mumbo doesn’t know about it. Also Scar gets worried and serious. It’s just fluff? I think?

Relationship: None, though could be slightly there if you squint. It’s all platonic and could be just friends being friends. (I mean Mumbo harvest Grian’s soul in S8, man knows what he is doing...)

Character: Scar, Grian, Mumbo Jumbo, Xisumavoid (mentioned), Stressmonster101 (mentioned)

Notes: This is strictly just about their MC personas. Do not take this seriously! Do not harass them with these works.

-

They are chatting under a tree Scar built, then Grian gets quieter and quieter, until Mumbo feels the air kind of just- stops.

“Grian, what are you doing?” He turns to look at Grian.

“Uh, nothing!”

“You just- you literally just tried to pluck my hair, dude!” Mumbo leans away from Grian’s hand, which is now once again reaching for his head.

“Well, not ‘tried’…”

Mumbo yelps. Grian stands up while giggling uncontrollably, a lock of hair in his hand, “I’ll make it up for you! Promise! Now BYEEEE!”

And just like that, Grian fires his rocket and flies away. Mumbo stares at Grian until he disappear from the render distance, and sighs. The sigh it’s almost fond, but mostly just annoyed.

Well, Grian always get what he wants anyway, even it’s a part of him. It’s not like Grian doesn’t know he is a vampire.

-

“So G, what exactly requires my hair?”

“Oh, nah, it’s for an explosive potion I was making. It failed and…well. It exploded, so it worked, just not in my favor. I think Iskall did something to that book I was researching.”

“…You sure that’s not a witch’s recipe?”

“Does that really matter now?”

“I don’t understand how- like seriously, how did you not suspect a thing when you saw…whatever you saw that demanded my hair?”

“Well, it’s always funny to troll you anyway, so it’s a win for me.”

“…You do realize I can kill things this season, right?”

Grian stops his stirring and looks up at Mumbo. He searches Mumbo’s face for a while, chuckles, then resumes his work.

“You won’t. You like me too much.”

Mumbo fumbles for a word to reply. He manages, “We can always go to kill Scar. Are you up for it?”

Grian laughs, “Am I?! Who needs potion when you can just mess with Scar?”

-

Mumbo is reading a book when Grian walks in. He smells something before he sees Grian, and when he sees Grian- the smell makes so much sense when he sees Grian.

He’s at Grian’s side immediately, “Grian!”

“Hi, Mumbo.” Grian’s voice is weak. Mumbo’s starting to panic.

“Why are you- why is your sweater singed? Did you get burned? What happened?!”

“The potion works. I think it does, anyway. I need you to-“ A cough fit interrupt his words.

“What potion- Grian, do I get Stress now? Or Xisuma? I- this is madness, how do you get burned so badly?!”

“Stop mother-henning me. Try the potion so I can rest.”

Grian take a potion bottle out from his inventory and hands it to Mumbo

Mumbo hesitates, “Grian, we should seriously call someone in, it looks painful-“

“JUST DRINK IT!”

Mumbo, startled, drinks all the potion in one go, “Okay- there, I did it. Now can we call the others?”

“Take me to Xisuma.”

“Take you to- Grian, I can’t carry you while flying, the burn-“

“Well you better be quick, ‘cuz I…”

“Grian? Grian! Don’t- Wake up!”

-

Grian wakes up to an unhappy face.

“Good morning, Scar.” He rasps.

Scar put down the scarf he is working on, “Yeah, morning to you, G. It’s nighttime, but, yeah. Glad to see you awake. How are you feeling? Xisuma spent quite a while fixing you, you know.”

Scar is surprisingly serious today, Grian doesn’t quite know what to respond to that.

Scar goes on, “It wouldn’t have been so bad if you went through the healing potion quick enough, but you didn’t.” That’s a harsh tone from Scar. “You gotta take care of yourself, G-man. People worries about you.”

The door clicks, saving Grian from Scar’s lecturing. 

“Hey. Uh. Did- is this the right time?”

“No, yeah, I was just…trying to tell Grian to take care of himself a little bit more.” Scar pauses. “Well don’t just stand there, Mumbo, come on in!”

Grian watches Mumbo taking the seat beside Scar. He looks like he has something to say but doesn’t know how to. Huh.

The silence goes on.

Scar observes them both. Amused, he goes back to work on his scarf. Oh Grian doesn’t like that smug smile, not at all.

“Grian, how are you feeling?”

“I feel alright.” He thinks for a second. “Was it you that took me to Xisuma, Mumbo?”

“Yeah, it was me.”

“How was that?”

Mumbo quietly chuckles, “Scariest experience of my life, dude.”

“Did it- did it hurt? Did the potion not work?”

“It worked, I flew all the way to Xisuma’s base, but don’t- Grian, I mean this, don’t ever do that again, okay?”

“To be fair, I thought I would be fine-“

“Grian, don’t do that again, seriously. You scared the pants off of me.”

“Woah ho ho okay, if we are talking about pants now-“ Scar throws up his hands.

“Scar!” Mumbo exclaims.

“I’ll leave you guys to it! See you!” Scar slips out of the door with a click.

The silence falls, once again. Mumbo breaks the silence.

“Thank you, G. Is that why you pluck my hair though? To make the sun-proof potion?”

Grian nods slightly. “Do you like it? It literally exploded in my face, I tell you. It’s not an easy one.”

Mumbo looks incredulous, and he laughs. “I felt the sun for the first time. It’s so weird when it doesn’t burn.”

“So do you like it or not?”

“…Yeah, I do. Thank you, G.”

-

“Oh, the potion can last about ten hours and that’s it.”

“Yeah, I noticed that when I was heading back. You are not making this just so you can pluck my hair, right?”

Grian smiles.

“You are not, RIGHT?”

-

Inspirations:

Alchemist Grian and Vampire Mumbo’s design by @ink-ghoul

The artwork that also floods my brain by @homiu-l

Like I said, I can’t get alchemist Grian and Mumbo out of my brain. Mumbo’s holding an umbrella, so the sun probably burns him, and I imagine that being a huge problem.

No one beta for me so, feel free to point things out. Also, English is not my first language, so if there’s weird phrases and stuff, your comment is always welcome!

Thank you ink-ghoul and homiu-l for the wonderful artworks!!!!

I might revisit this and see if I can fix some fluency problems...

[helsknight]

okay. okay. okay. ive never done one of these before but i want to so badly because i do think about this so here we go. @betweenlands helped me out with a couple (read: a bunch) of these and i'll mention where exactly ofc but huge shoutout to solar just in general for being an amazing creative waterspout for what feels like everything.

- scp hermitcraft au...been done before? maybe. nihil novi sub sole. but that won't stop me. i think the thing that makes them all Correlated is that everyone works in the same One building, stationed...somewhere. i'm not gonna give them numbers because i don't want them to be confused with ACTUAL scps, and even if i choose a currently unused number it will likely get filled in the future. so i'll just use names <3

im putting the rest of this under a cut bcause it got LONG AS FUCK lmao but please give it a read i'd appreciate it <333 i will. probably make art for this soon. its really been spinning my brain around

- cub, zedaph, and welsknight are all scientists in the facility, with varying degrees of Normal, but all are slightly..."Hm". zed is probably the most normal, but it's hard to tell where/if he got any sort of science degree. he gives off the vibe like someone hired him without doing a whole lot of background checks (see mr. fantastic from fallout new vegas), but he takes his research projects in STRIDE and he makes up for it with a lot of passion in his work.

- cub is definitely educated, and it feels like he's the only one actually running the place. that doesn't mean he sticks to the protocol very often, though! but it seems like he knows what is and isn't against the rules, unlike zed, even if he cares just as little about what rules he circumvents. he claims to be more of a chemist than a researcher, so he lets zed do what he wants. it's also incredibly obvious to any trained eye that he's not human (or at least not entirely), but when you're surrounded by anomalies of all kinds, it's easy to explain aging backwards once in a while.

- wels plays the scientist role the straightest out of the three, mostly because he knows what happens to people who break the rules at the foundation and he's a lot more cautious and a lot less reckless. still, he busies himself most with upkeep and containment procedures, as well as filework and other things. before he was a scientist at the current foundation location, he had a very. strange. accident with SCP-914. he was moved offsite after that to his current location, but (according to official sources) he's very panicked that he's been followed. sounds fine though lol

- doc USED to be a scientist. unfortunately, according to some records which have been expunged several times (and rewritten by a very angry doc equally as many times), he 'got into a fight with a god and lost his arm, eye, and several teeth--but still won!' it's unsure when his skin started to change colors, but he was contained shortly after that. he keeps reapplying to be a scientist, citing other researchers who are 'definitely worse than he is', but there's been no plea deal just yet.

- solar helped me nail this one down a lot more (bless u solar)! iskall and xisuma are currently taskforce--employed as guards on most cases, but are occasionally sent on duty to corral SCP escapees, as well as collect new ones! ren USED to be on taskforce, but something went terribly wrong in the field and he was bit by a "werewolf". it's pretty obvious it wasn't JUST a werewolf, but don't tell ren that. we'll come back to that later. he's contained and prevented from going out on the force 'for his own safety', mostly, but his cell is under complete lockdown on full moon nights. iskall's eye was clawed out in the same fight where ren got decommissioned, but other than that, theyre fine! their arm hurts sometimes, but they never got bitten, so that means they're in the clear, right?

- xisuma is a funny one. he actually joined the taskforce with his twin brother, ex--you couldn't usually tell them apart, so they tended to color-code their underarmor. however, ex messed up at some point--really, really bad--and was demoted to d-class. xisuma (and most of the facility, actually) was devastated, so they were given amnesiacs so they Wouldn't Remember :). ex went missing (presumed dead) after an experiment with a particularly volatile scp with the codename "midas' minion". however, if he WERE still alive, perhaps with a few new abilities and more than a little mind-controlled, he'd probably be pretty angry that everyone forgot about him. that would suck. xisuma still doesn't remember why he wears green most of the time--or, more accurately, why he never wears red.

- and FINALLY we can move on to the actual SCPS!! first up is everyone's favorite grian. he's a mimic scp, and visually looks like a mix between a harpy and an overgrown parrot. his anomaly is that he can perfectly imitate another creature's voice, completely indistinguishably--but, additionally, he can also say ANYTHING that the creature would say, regardless of whether HE knows or not. for example, he could easily start spouting foundation secrets he should NOT have access to if he wanted to. the foundation does not like him! <3 his only restriction is that he has to hear the person speak before he can properly mimic them--otherwise he'd only be guessing.

- next is the beloved cleo, paired alongside the very joe hills himself! solar suggested this one again and i absolutely loved it so. cleo is the "werewolf" that bit ren, but of course. werewolf is a loose term. she can transform into anything that has a contagious bite. werewolf, vampire, zombie, you name it and she's there. currently she's a zombie, because vampires are VERY last century, but when she was captured she's a werewolf. solar also mentioned that she would definitely transform into an angel at some point, which has hilarious (if worrying) implications. joe is kind of different! he's a thaumiel-class scp, sort of, but the foundation is working very hard to figure out what his deal even...is. all thats obvious is that, without one or the other in each others immediate vicinity, they're basically uncontainable. joe likes to write poetry in his cell, and cleo enjoys threatening joe while he writes poetry.

- next up is our goodtimeswithscar <3 he's...less containable than any of the other scps in the location, but just as frequent a character. his arrival is usually preceded by a grey-white tabby cat appearing as well, lounging on paperwork and activating doc's allergies from miles away. when he does show up, it's kind of odd--he acts like he's meant to be there, entering containment cells and talking to the SCPs or drinking tea in the break room. they've tried to contain him as well--arrest, secure, pretty much anything--but as soon as the tabby cat (which scar calls, oh-so-affectionately, 'jellie-cat') is gone, scar usually leaves within a day.

- finally, the last one i have thought up pretty much at all, is our dear wormman <3 he's a shapeshifter mimic whose mimicry is much more complete than grians--he can transform almost entirely into a replica of another person, including their memories. however, when he chooses a form, it usually sticks for...a really long while. currently, he's at-a-glance indistinguishable from zedaph. of course, if you put them next to each other, you could probably start to notice some differences...but maybe not which was which. he enjoys 'playing', because he's lived far too long for this containment thing to really bother him, and his current choice of game is pretending to be a very incredible and powerful superhero who's been detained by the evil masterminds. because of course! when he copied zedaph's memories, however, he actually got the slightly better deal out of it...because zedaph, if you'll recall, was given amnesiacs to deal with a certain problem. wormman escapes his containment far too often for it to be a coincidence, or just on his own, but he's usually corralled back in fairly quickly--he's not subtle or very good at escaping. the only person who's ever SEEN one of his escapes claims that someone who looked a lot like xisuma, except with longer, white hair, broke him out, but that's frankly illogical because the person who saw it WAS xisuma, so there's probably another shapeshifter on the loose, or wormman has a secret gaggle of friends.

that's. all i have for the moment, and actually i wrote a whole lot more than i thought i'd have LMAOJSDHKJF but! i'm definitely still brainstorming more hermits as scps so pls go ahead and ask me about these id love to talk abt this au. am certainly going to draw these things very soon, again thank you solar for helping me w some of this and also for listening to my rough pass of some ideas <333

[redorich]

Heyo, I'm not sure if you would want to. But if you ever wanted to write a sequel? to your nightmare hermit craft tommy. I would be so down. Your work is amazing! 🐌

Anonymous asked:

The day Dream and the rest of the server find out about Tommy with the hermits, I can see dream (and possibly others) going there to “collect” Tommy thinking no one will put up a fight, only to have all the hermits protecting Tommy in there own ways with Xisuma at the front being the badass admin that he his, teaching dream a proper lesson.

-------

Tommy, his best friend, his brother, and some of the hermits spend weeks planning out how they're going to save Dream from the dreamon possessing him. Unfortunately, none of that matters in the end.

Tommy gets a message on his communicator. It's Technoblade.

<Technoblade> dream figured out you're alive and forced tubbo to tell him your location. he's invading hermitcraft TODAY.

<Technoblade> he's bringing george, sapnap, bad, ant, phil, ranboo, quackity, and fundy. i'll be there but i don't know how much i can do to stop them.

Techno won't answer any of Tommy's messages, won't pick up the phone. Fuck. On the verge of hyperventilation, Tommy takes off into the sky with the elytra that he only ever glides with, and spams rockets as fast as he can because fuck his stupid hangup with fireworks and the trauma behind them, he needs to see Xisuma now.

The admin is busy making another tower for his base, but drops everything when Tommy explains, in gasping breaths, the imminent danger. Xisuma teleports every player to the town hall, then takes off to remove all valuable items from the spawn area he created before anyone gets the chance to ask him what the teleport was for.

Tommy takes charge with help from the hermits that are more experienced in leading. He knows exactly what the opposition will be bringing, how many they'll be facing, the tactics they'll use.

Bdubs sets up beds in the town hall for everyone to set their spawns, while Doc rigs the place with every nasty trick he can think of. After working on his Target minigames for so long, Cub knows which hermits are the best with a bow. He forms a group and they strategically perch in the HEP tower. The bookstore becomes free to everyone who doesn’t have maxed-out gear, and Etho sweeps in behind them all, methodically looting every store that has anything the enemy could possibly get a benefit out of if they stole it. Stress sets up a makeshift potions lab on the front lawn. Cleo fetches her everything she needs.

Meanwhile, Ren loots his Quadrachopper for apples, then hands them off to Iskall to make stacks upon stacks of golden apples. Jevin darts off, but shortly returns with several shulker boxes of ender pearls. Each hermit has at least two totems of undying courtesy of Impulse.

This is what these people can do with less than a day to prepare, Tommy wonders. There’s enough supplies here to have taken back L’Manberg three times over, before it blew up. Still, these are the people that spar to three hearts instead of to the death. They shy away from making others suffer. Their calluses are born of concrete and stone, pickaxes and shovels. Dream’s calluses are born of blood.

The time comes. Stress packs up her brewing stands, places them inside the town hall on any space that isn’t a bed so she can keep supplying the fighters. Tango lets his lava bucket warm his shaking hands. Doc clutches his trident, resolute in his role of protector; no enemy will breach the town hall so long as he is there.

Messages of intruders joining the server flood the chat. Instant chaos. Three withers spawn all at once, and Grian sets about aggro-ing all three of them so he can dogfight them in the sky. Bad, George, and Ant head straight for the town hall. It’s the most important building on the island, as well as the most spacious, so the hunters correctly guess that town hall is the hermits’ base of operations. The three are met by Iskall, who stalls them long enough for Tango and Impulse to show up. Their fight pushes down the street to the steps of the town hall, so Doc joins in the fray. It’s an evenly matched fight.

Sapnap makes his way to the town hall as well, in order to support his fellow hunters, but Keralis cuts him off. In true Keralis fashion, the man taunts Sapnap until Sapnap completely loses sight of what he was meant to do, and instead chases Keralis, who narrowly evades him at every turn.

False engages a footsoldier-- Quackity-- in a battle that is tooth and nail. She nearly loses her arm to Quackity’s axe when Fundy makes the battle a two-on-one, but Fundy nearly loses his entire head when Techno roars triumphantly and swings his Orphan Obliterator sword at him with both hands. Quackity screams, fuelled not by his lungs but by his blinding hot rage at the betrayal. The battle is on.

It’s not all battles, though. Several hermits rain arrows down upon their enemies from the rooftops; meanwhile, Dream himself stalks through the streets under the effect of an invisibility potion, setting off TNT and End crystals indiscriminately. He isn’t the only invisible person, though-- Etho goes completely without armor, sabotaging anyone he can and collecting another invisibility potion on the way out of town hall each time he dies and respawns. Mumbo, eager for a chance to help, runs damage control as best as he can by putting out fires while Wels watches his back.  Ren and Cleo run elytra interference; xB does the same from the ocean with a riptide trident.

Once Ant is down, Impulse feels safe in allowing Doc, Tango, and Iskall to take on George and Bad without him. Impulse peels off from the group to confront the nervous-looking man edging his way closer and closer to the town hall. The closer he gets, the more his heart drops into his stomach. Tommy’d described this Ranboo guy, but he’d neglected to mention that Ranboo was not a fucking adult. Impulse doesn’t think he can do this. He can’t inflict this level of violence on a kid, for all that Ranboo is an older teen. 

Ranboo’s too good at fighting-- another child soldier, Impulse’s mind whispers-- for Impulse to be able to afford to be kind, but Impulse does anyway and Ranboo kills him. Stress gasps when he respawns, but steadfastly gives him everything he needs to go back out into the fray. His hands shake. This had better end soon, one way or another.

[theminecraftbee]

hello

Apologies if the ask box is not the correct place to talk about the stuffed bird fic, also this is gonna be long and apologies for that too

But I have so many questions and thoughts

First of all, kudos to you for writing such a great fic, like holy crap, the characterization and everything are *chefs kiss*

I’m about to spout a bunch of questions that I’m not really expecting to get answers for, but need to put somewhere

But also I’m wondering why Grian specifically was able to become somewhat coherent? Is it just because Mumbo knew him before and was able to talk to him?

I also keep thinking for some reason that if Grian were to drink some of Mumbo’s blood then he could possibly return to his human state since mumbo’s immune? Idk id that checks out lol

Also every time you mentioned what they did for work I became more concerned and confused, especially about who Grian was as a person lol

Is Mumbo’s immunity hereditary? If it’s hereditary and dominant then at least one of his parents could still be alive right? Also I’m dying to know if Iskall and Zedaph are alive, and I love how Mumbo and X just have a slightly-coherent bird dinosaur following them around now

Was this a worldwide apocalypse type thing, or just in whatever country they’re in?

Thank you so much for this fantastic fic, I will be thinking about it and rereading it for a while

i'll answer this one rapid-fire, it's been sitting here because i needed to post the grian meta, lol. uh, let's see, let's go, most of these have relatively short or matter-of-fact answers under the cut.

grian became coherent exactly because of what you said - because he was able to recognize mumbo through the fact that they were once close friends and hang onto just enough of himself to remember a little from there. (sometimes, one person making an effort is all it takes.)

grian drinking mumbo's blood wouldn't cure him. it is an ambiguous possibility, however, that x's supposition about taking mumbo's blood to make some kind of cure could work. neither x nor mumbo know enough about the biology to be able to say whether it would, though, which is a bit of why x's plan was sort of dumb.

"who was grian as a person" i have a whole meta post about not saying anything on that subject. concorp was sure shady though. wonder what they were employing intelligence assets for?

mumbo's immunity is PROBABLY genetic? i had not gone into detail on how exactly it worked other than "it is an inherent trait of the mumbo". it is entirely possible he has family alive! it's also entirely possible he does not! in the context of the fic the likelihood he sees them again is pretty low though!

iskall and zedaph are. hm. okay the thing is most of the hermits are ambiguous post-fic. i have some ideas of pre-fic or even early during the fic, but post-fic their fates are intentionally ambiguous. iskall is an assassin, so you'd think he'd end up fine, but then again, grian and xisuma are presumably somewhat competent as well. as for zedaph... well, we really don't know. he worked for concorp, though, for whatever good or ill that does him.

the apocalypse is worldwide! oh dear.

and i'm glad you liked it! :DDD

[shepard-ram]

Wolf in Foxes Clothing [Yandere!Fundy x Hc!Reader]

(Request: 💐 i am Once Again requesting whatever you feel like writing o/)

(Continuing on the path of using "write whatever you want" to put my anons on the main tag lol. This time it's these two asks from Tele Anon- Tw. Yandere, Kidnapping,)

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Hermitcraft was a land of information. From the architecture made with years of experience in each placement, farms that used only the latest and most efficient techniques, to even games perfectly displaying the fun In function. The Hermits were champions of innovation, and to do that you needed to know alot about the external world. That's exactly what this latest venture was supposed to be.

The Dream Smp wasn't the only server that you're family was scouting, but it was the one you were most interested in. You had been on missions to other Smps before but the few tales that floated around drew you in more than any others had. You and a couple others accompanied Xisuma during the agreements with Dream, who had his own advisor's.

Even though you could catch the tension between Dreams group you stayed friendly, knowing better than to step into a server known for war with people already angry at you. One of these members was a Fox hybrid that Iskall had aprently talked to before, it was why the two were in the negotiation. While you didn't get a chance to properly talk with him, you could tell he held you all in a much higher regard than just someone who he had a mutual friend with.

By the end of the talk it was decided that Fundy would be your guide for the week you planned to stay. Well more accurately, he excitedly volunteered the moment the suggestion of one was brought up.

Fundy was internally screaming, oh how long he had idolized the Hermits. Sure he talked to Iskall once, but that was nothing compared to the opportunity to spend an entire week as your go-to.

After the meeting the Smp had some more internal talks about the event. No matter what was happening or who made a rapport with you, the guest of honor would not be associated with any conflicts. It was completely fine with him, and the server had already gotten calmer in the days before your trip.

Fundy decided to make you a little place to stay for the week. He knew it would be nothing compared to what the Hermits have, but he could make a decently sized, cozy place for you two.

"Us two?" You questioned on your first day on your tour. It was more of a half day, just meeting everyone and learning the map.

"W-Well yeah! It can be very dangerous here, -and I'm supposed be your anchor! You don't have any amor or weapons. I don't know what I would tell everyone if you got hurt while I'm supposed to keep track of you..." His explanation made sense, and it was kind of endearing to see him stutter it out. So you agreed to occupie the house.

You fell into a routine for the little vacation: he showed you the server, you talked to people, wrote down and drew as much as you could in your journal, then you would go back to the house at around sundown and spend the rest of the night talking before going to bed.

He adored those evenings beyond words. He thought about what being your friend would be like, and by God did you hit every single mark. He was so used to being tossed to the back without thought. To being some shadow of a background character, but you were a spotlight. In every little conversation you made him feel important, made him feel appreciated, made him feel seen. When he was by your side, around others or not, he wasn't some unknown extra.

It was nothing short of addicting, you and your attention were addicting. The sweet and bubbly laughs, and way you stood behind him when something startled you, he never wanted it to end. Seeing someone he admired treat him like a protector pulled him to cloud nine.

During one of your evenings you excitedly asked to pet his ears when he mentioned he "kinda liked it". From then on your relationship was a lot more affectionate, he never wanted to leave this heaven. You didn't define what you had going on, but when you fell asleep on his chest- in his arms? He couldn't help but believe that this was ment to be.

"Hey Fundy?" You approached the half asleep fox, still fighting the morning fatigue.

"Yeah?" He yawned, gazing at you with a dreamy expression.

"I enjoyed spending time with you, hopefully we can still talk when I go home." That's when he remembered- it was your last day here.

"But- but I, we-" It already felt like his world was crumbling and he was there trying to hold it together. "You are home."

"What?" He was already walking towards you. Forcing you to step back away from the only door.

"I need you more than everybody, I appreciate you more than everybody, I- I need you." He repeated. You realized just how much stronger than you he was.

All you can do is hope that the Hermits will find you soon.

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 56- Ancient Quarrels

Masterpost

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

Ex returns home with new friends, but struggles with the reality that his old stomping grounds have grown up without him, all while learning more about the history of dark magic.

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

“I thought I told you to come alone.” Xisuma states, staring at the rainbow haired twins. No matter how much the two try to blend in, the ever shifting colors of their locks always stand out. 

“I thought you could use the help. You clearly need it if you reached out to me.”  Ex steps off the pirate ship, followed by the king and his brother. Ex tries his best to keep his gaze on the ground at his feet, the grass, sand, and dirt. He doesn’t want to see what Xisuma and all his friends have done to the safe haven they found together. As brothers. He doesn’t want to see what he's missed, what he’s been too afraid to claim for his own. He doesn’t want to see how much time has changed the island he once called home. 

But Ex stumbles over a rock, his books scattering from his arms, while he plummets to the ground. He could let go of his remaining scrolls and books, but these articles are ancient and invaluable. He’d rather break his nose than let go of them. 

Lucky for Ex, he doesn’t have to choose. One of the hermits grabs him before he gets a mouthful of dirt. Ex opens his eyes, forced to look at the island. And he sees everything. 

It looka exactly the same. It looks completely different. The grounds were the same- the same rocky shores, soft beaches, hills, forest, even the lake at the center on the north side of the island. The grass the same green color, the sky the same blue, the distant mist and waves dancing together. But dotting the island now stood a menagerie of buildings. Where there used to only be the tower of stone he and X built, now a glass biodome rests on one side, a barn on the other. Smoke rolls free from the chimney of a weaponsmith’s house, and just off the island a cloud floats low, the white tower upon it open to the breeze of the sea. 

Ex collects his books, and slinks off to the guild hall. Sor follows Grian to help with Apatia, to make the decision on how to move forward with his recovery. Tris follows behind Ex, taking in the open sea and sky. So unlike Milliara. 

It was exactly that which drew the void twins here in the first place. They dared enter the Ashioll sea because it was quiet, peaceful, unlike Milliara. Back when there were only two- they didn’t need anyone more. They didn’t want anyone more. In the end, Ex got to be alone, moreso than ever. Without even a brother. 

Being back on Eremita was painful, but as a healing wound would be. For the first time in years, his brother reached out to him. For the first time, they were putting aside the argument so long ago and working together. Like they did when they were young. 

At the same time, both X and Ex set out their books on the same table. At the same time, like mirror images of one another, they set out their maps, their inkwells, their quills, even their books ordered the exact same way. The similarities between the two were uncanny, leaving the hermits baffled as they watch them. If it wasn’t for Ex’s white hair, it’d be impossible to tell them apart. 

Ex speaks first, pulling the red fabric of his cloak away from his face so the hermits can hear him. “The last known insurgence of dark magic was over a thousand years ago. Before Lairyon became a kingdom, near the end of the ancient ones’s time. As we all know, Addows is the only place that still has significant and readable history of the ancient ones. Everything disappeared just like them.” 

“And no one knows why.” Tris adds in, sitting down and plucking a book. He flips through the pages. “The ancient ones had magic more powerful than most wizards. Very few forms of ancient powers survive today- including angelic magic.” 

The hermits look at Grian, but he simply shrugs. He knows nothing about the ancient ones, just that they’re… well, ancient. Iskall speaks up, resting his cheek on his hand. “Could it be that it was the dark magic that wiped them out?” 

Both of the void twins and Tris shake their head, and begin to answer at the same time. Ex and X glare at one another, and Tris takes the moment to answer instead. “No, it’s not like there’s a sign of a fight, or a struggle, or anything. Just...one day they were all over this kingdom, and then- poof, gone.”

“But the ancient ones weren’t the only people here. The kiplings have been living in these waters longer than anyone. And if we cross reference the information King Sormena gave me access to in the royal library, and the deep sea libraries of the Kiplings, we can start to get an inkling of understanding.”

“My gods you’re so boring even now.” Xisuma groans. “We dont need the whole story, and Lairyon doesn’t have time. What did you learn and how can we use it to defeat Dolios?” 

“Well…” Ex bits his lip. “We didn’t learn how they defeated the dark magic all those times before. But we did find the location of one of their lost cities. Tris and I believe it could even be the ancient capital of theirs.” 

The hermits groan, some even dramatically flopping back in their chairs. It seems all they ever have are breadcrumbs, leading them around in circles all across Lairyon. TFC speaks up first, though even he seems exhausted. “It’s better than nothing. It’s our only hope at this point. So where is it?” 

“Tris had pinpointed the general location of the lost city in the Ashioll Fjords, but together we were able to determine the exact location.” Ex plucks a quill from the table, dipping the tip in the ink and marking one of the many divots and crests of the northernmost part of Lairyon. All the hermits lean in, peering at the location. It looks no different from any other part of the fjords, or even the rest of Lairyon. 

“If anyone knows how to defeat Dolios’s dark magic, it has to be the ancient ones.” Etho states. “They did it before, we just have to do it again.”

It gives the hermits hope to know this isn’t the first time, they aren’t the only ones in all of history to face dark magic. Ex looks up at the hermits, a question that’s been dancing in his mind finding its way to his tongue before he can stop it. “Why did you guys ever decide to do this? What in the world made you guys think you could take on a dark wizard? Be the chosen few like the ancient ones?”

The hermits look at one another, as if they’d find an answer in the stares and faces of their peers. But no one has the answer. Though Joe is more than willing to come up with his own. “Perhaps, in this story, there are no chosen ones. No destiny or prophesied heroes. Perhaps it is just by the choice of normal man, who chooses to make a difference, who chooses to stand up and fight, that is really what makes a hero?” 

“Is this what I missed when I left?” Ex questions Xisuma, who nods solemnly.

“What will we find in the lost city?” Grian questions. 

“I dunno, it’s lost.” Tris quips, causing Grian to blush when he realizes his question. “But if it’s anything like Addows, you should be prepared for ancient ones magic and the stone buildings they made their cities from. Apart from that- you just gotta look in the right place.” 

The hermits realize they’re going in on this blind. Once again, they have little more than a hope, a thread of a lead, taking them somewhere in search of answers. Whether it was Gildara, or the Champion’s Cup, or even the Forest of Memories, they’ve always been chasing the same specter of knowledge. Hoping to find something more. 

“But you won’t be alone this time.” Ex points out. The hermits turn to face him, his face so familiar, yet so vastly different. “King Sormena volunteered to go along with you, to give aid on your search.” 

Tris averts his gaze, his jaw set tight at the mention of his brother joining the hermits. Doc raises his hand, almost condescending. “Won’t Dolios notice the king is gone?” 

“He’s not in Milliara right now. The Wanderers informed me of that- where he is, I don’t know, but this is a rare opportunity that we can’t waste. You’ll need every mind and magic to figure out the puzzles and clues that the lost city may have. I’d best get packing if i were you guys.” 

Groups disperse off, back to their homes, caves, ships, and clouds. Once again preparing, as a whole guild, to go off on another adventure. Even Tris disappears, either to go find and argue with his brother, or get a pint of beer from Cleo. But one person stays behind. 

Xisuma doesn’t ever look directly at his brother, but he always turns his head just slightly to be able to see Ex shuffling papers. His body is aimed out from the guild hall, looking over, across the island of Eremita. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, X speaks up. “Will you be able to take care of Apatia while we’re gone? I don’t think he can go back to Milliara with you.” 

Ex raises an eyebrow. It almost sounds like an invitation to stay on the island. Almost. “I guess if no one else will, I can offer my help. And glean information from him about the magistrate. Perhaps I can talk to Ian about engineering a prosthesis… Kiplings aren’t really meant to live without their fins.” 

The void mage shakes his head, listening to his brother continue to ramble on under his breath. So many years apart, and yet the same old Ex. For the first time in years, after so long hating his twin, refusing to talk to him, removing every sign he ever existed on this island, now he’s standing in their guild hall. And for the first time in years, Xisuma feels like he can let go of the anger and tension from that fight so long ago. 

Ex steps up beside Xisuma, and the two gaze over Eremita. They watch as Keralis and Zedaph round up sheep for their midday meal, Iskall, Mumbo, and Grian arguing over what kind of redstone they could possibly need on their journey, Wels and False sharpening the blades of their own weapons and others. 

He doesn’t want to admit it, but Eremita looks more alive than it ever was when it was just the two of them. The colors of all different wizards, from all walks of life. All a part of this guild that Xisuma has found. All this, that Ex was afraid of. “You’ve done a good job building yourself a home. Finding yourself a family. Guess you didn’t really need me.” 

Xisuma turns, and removes his mask. For the first time in years, Ex can see his brother's face. They can both see the scars they left on each other. On their skin and in their hearts. Xisuma’s fingers run along the scratched out marking in the metal. Wishing he could take that fit of anger back and fix it. “I didn’t do this without you, though. When I wasn’t sure what to do, it was always your annoying voice that guided me to the right decision.” 

“We have the same voice.” Ex points out. 

“Exactly. No matter what, no matter what I did, you were still with me, a part of me. But when I didn't know what to do, I thought about what you would choose. And it always led me in the right direction. Even though you weren’t here, I still needed you. I still needed my brother.” 

To hear that word come from Xisuma’s mouth, to hear him call Ex that- brother. All these years, all he ever wanted was his brother back. To have a family again. Ex can feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t want his brother to see him crying over such a simple thing. “I think it’ll be nice to have a family again. It...it feels good to be home.”

[justletmeplayminecraft]

What are your theories on HCBBS?? 👀

I'll preface this by saying: I suck at theories! I'm terrible! I love following other people's investigations, but I honestly Suck at actually figuring them out. So, I don't have anything solid, just a lot of observations and ideas which are under the cut. It's basically my thoughts so far. Which, if you know me, is a lot.

I cover why I think it's not an end of season counter, the symbols, who I think might be behind it, touch on the 'change over' element, and some theories what it might all be. Enjoy this mini essay!

Firstly, I'm personally dismissing the 'counting down to end of season' theory. A lot of hermits have new ideas or continued projects, and it's been said recently there's no date set (I think X's livestream was the last place I heard that?) I believe the new season will start around the Caves & Cliffs update, simply because working out the world gen? That would be yikes. With the Village & Pillage update they expanded the world border, but that mostly affected isolated structure generation. With the Nether Update, they agreed the Nether would be reset. Cave generation? Yeah, I can't see an easy way to do that besides a new world.

The lanterns are also counting down fairly quickly (maybe one a day?), so whatever it is, it's happening within the next few weeks. End of season is a possibility, but I don't think so.

As for what I think it stands for... I'm really not sure. I think it's interesting that the first two work with 'HermitCraft'. I wonder if we were supposed to guess that. Obvious on purpose. I don't think the symbols represent anything, though, I think it's Zalgo generation.

However, I'm not sure if the number of symbols is on purpose or not.

As demonstrated in this image, the person knows how to use symbols for effect, too. So whether the number of symbols represents the number of letters? I'm undecided on that. The maximum characters for naming is 35, and the HCBBS is at 26.

My second point: I think it's Mumbo behind it. He tends not to get involved in plotlines unless he's dragged into them, so for him to start a plotline is very unusual. It's worth remembering that the hermits schedule their 'plot' videos behind the scenes. For Keralis returning in S6, for example, it was first revealed in Cub's video from the surveillance drones! Plotlines are discussed and planned, to an extent. So I think the fact Mumbo revealed it is a little Too coincidental.

Other evidence, it fits Mumbo's build style. People have pointed out a lot of similarities to the button, and it seems like redstone Mumbo is familiar with. Also, I've not seen many people talk about this but- Mumbo's a filmmaker! He made a whole trailer about his new computer coming from space or something! The guy knows how to script and direct, just because he's rarely involved in plots doesn't mean he doesn't know how to write them. The Saturator last season, and the Halloween costume machine this one were small opportunities for content & story, perhaps this is something bigger.

He also established a hashtag for it in his description, and tweeted about it. Combined with the outro to his video breaking his usual conventions, it shows he's got the most engagement of any hermit so far with this storyline. Even if it's not his, he's the one who's pushing it.

I think there's also an argument for Cub, though. In the video where he signed up, his intro was 'Hello people of earth'. He also said Hermits had been talking about it, but from my discovery timeline it seems like it went Mumbo - Joe(? Might be after Cub) - Cub - Keralis. Potentially people in-between if you count the number of paper, but I'm too lazy. So how many hermits would've been talking when he signed up? Cub loves these kinda plots, so it wouldn't be too unreasonable, and the redstone is definitely on his level. It's also verging on his shop plot, so I think whoever made it would've asked him for permission, at least.

Moving on to this

The fact it's 'the' changeover implies a one-time event of some kind. Good for drama. It's pretty obvious whatever it is will occur once the countdown ends. I think the question is: will it start, or will it happen? The start of something longer, or a one time event. Also, if the involved hermits will be there when it does, 'cause that's hard to schedule. We're already covering multiple timezones.

And then:

This is just quick from Google, but I'm assuming we must be going for the first definition? Thing is, I'm not sure what could change on HC. A rule maybe, similar to Demise? I'm not sure if this would be Demise 2.0 but it's possible. Demise was well received and a good push to the end of season. And it would be changing to a new system/situation, one where death matters. Other theories I had were the government system, or perhaps replacing the grass again - but those wouldn't need to invite people. Plus I doubt X is giving up his gardener job so soon. So I think it's some kind of minigame set up.

Things I think it might be?

Let's get the disappointing out of the way: Pacific advertising. I mean, look how hard Mumbo was prepared to go for Mumbo for Mayor. He would. I'm hoping it isn't. I also don't know if they have an opening date for Pacific in mind, since Iskall has been busy with Vault Hunters. He's making episodes again now, though. I can't discount it, and will be disappointed if that's the case.

I think it's likely a minigame of some kind, where a fundamental rule of the world changes. But besides death, I don't know what that could be. Another tag kinda game? Curse of binding heads? Who knows.

From the letters, I think a Build Battle could be pretty fun! They've shown having the hermits working on minigames in a small space works great for content, so maybe an extension of that. But it's not exactly a change over.

My far out dream, an old hermit returning. Jessassin is playing with them for an event on Friday! However, I think it's pretty easy to dismiss that on the earlier mentioned 'Why invite people then?'

In conclusion, I'm leaning towards sign ups for a minigame. It makes sense why they'd want names, and if it's a Demise esq event, some build up for it would be interesting! I'm leaning towards Mumbo or Cub as the creator/writer, but Mumbo is definitely driving the plotline. Right now, I'm just excited to see who signs up.

[votederpycausemufins]

helleborusangel where hath your ramblings gone. your ramblings my beloved. Sorry for the late chapter today, had a dip in motivation and then tech issues, but it’s longer than last one so hopefully that makes up for it. also pinging @petrichormeraki like always.

(also slightly warning, uh... how do i say this? it’s not explicit or really sexual so... horniness warning? idk. it’s near the end)

They had done their best to help Grum out, but when they turned him back on, he still was out of it. At the very least, Fundy had been glad to see that a face that matched Jrum’s, but blue, replaced the smiley face. Well, that wasn’t all true. Sometimes it flickered back, but that was better than staying looking like Dream’s mask.

Speaking of the admin, he had sent a message to Fundy, leaving the fox looking around, trying to learn where Dream had been hiding, because he obviously saw or heard what had been going on. Fundy reluctantly said goodbye to the bots, leaving them alone with each other.

Jrum was happy to hug onto his brother. “I’m glad you’re doing better!”

Grum nodded before looking at the top of Jrum’s head. “May I have your shears? I assume you still have them with you.”

“Yeah! Sure!” Jrum pulled his favorite shears out and handed them to his brother. His smile turned to confusion as he was pushed down slightly to make him crouch. He could hear the shears being used, and then a sudden sharp pain before it disappeared. “Ow! Be careful!”

“Did I manage to cut your antenna as well?”

“Yeah! It hurt!”

“I apologize, but something was tied around it.” Grum replied, letting Jrum stand up again before holding out a small red vine.

“Oh! One of those pretty plants! It must have gotten up there when I was exploring that cave.” Jrum took the vine and looked it over. “I think I can still pot it with the other sprouts I have.”

“You… have more?”

“Yep!” Jrum replied before going over to a furnace and throwing his clay in to cook. “It kinda looks like nether plants, but at the same time not? It’s slightly more redstony colored!”

“I suppose that is why you would be a fan of it.”

Jrum paused. What did Grum mean by that? It… It almost sounded like an insult. “What?”

“Redstone isn’t very useful.”

“Not that- What are you talking about?! We’re made of redstone and it’s Daddy’s job to work with it! It’s very useful!”

“”It takes too much time and it’s easy to break. Besides, what are you going to do? Make a secret door with it? People can still break through it.”

Jrum frowned. “Don’t say that!”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“No it’s not! Shut up! Or I could just make it so you can’t charge yourself!”

“Fine, live in an unfinished house by yourself. I’m sure you’ll be so safe with your diamonds. It’s not like anyone will want those for themselves.”

“I… They won’t be able to take them. I kept them when we respawned unlike most of my stuff. So even if they kill me, they can’t get them!”

“And so what? You’ll just keep them there? I thought you only had five slots in that chest of yours. What happens when you have something more important, or they’re out and you’re using them.” Grum asked, noticing how one of Jrum’s hands moved slightly. “Or are you fine losing that stupid toy of yours?”

“Don’t say that!” Jrum yelled and shoved his brother over. “It’s not stupid! Dad gave it to me and that makes it important!”

“If its connection to him is so important, he’s the one important. But let’s see, he’s not here. We’ve been here days and he hasn’t shown up. At this point, he probably won’t. And you know why?” Jrum refused to answer or guess, so Grum continued. “Because he doesn’t love us. He’s perfectly fine abandoning us. We’re not even the first one he’s done this too. He. Does. Not. Care.”

Jrum started tearing up before running off crying. Grum didn’t go after his brother and instead went back to work on the house, leaving Jrum on his own again. The younger robot was planning to go back to Puffy, but on the way there, he changed his mind. He changed his path and eventually ended up in the cave again. He nearly tripped over a large vine on the floor, but it was almost like it moved slightly so he didn’t. 

The robot went a bit deeper into the cave than he had when he first found it, following the vines on the ground until he reached the mass that the plants were coming from, the red, egg shaped plant towering over Jrum’s small size. It ever so slightly reminded Jrum of the heart of his daddy’s base. That thing was a sort of living machine as well, and he kept forgetting to feed it. He barely cared about it. And now that he and Grum were gone as far as their dads were concerned, it honestly made sense they wouldn’t come looking.

Jrum sat down next to the egg thing and curled up. He looked around and made sure no one was around before pulling out his special diamond block and hugging it. “I wanna go home…” and then he slowly went into sleep mode.

As Grum worked on building, he shut off a number of his functions, the most prominent one being his emotions. He had hurt his brother, but it was necessary. Something was wrong, and he didn’t know what. He didn’t want to hurt his brother, but he did so it couldn’t be worse. For all he knew, he could suddenly start attacking his brother. Even if this did lead to them on opposites sides of conflict, it would be for the better.

Grum paused in his building to check his battery. It was high, but not that close to full charge, which was odd. It currently felt like he was tired and needed to move to a reduced power mode, but also like he was fully charged and slightly buzzy with the energy.

Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: JoeHills. Assigned roles: Hermittown member, Acknowledged associate family, Operator, Higher Being of Unknown Origin. Banned roles: Hermittown member. Acknowledged associate family. Continue blacklist.

Blacklist check activated. Increase displacement by 2%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 41.5% total.

Grum shook his head after realizing he was zoning out. Maybe he should go into sleep mode. The second floor was almost complete at this point. Once it was done, the place just needed to be decorated. The robot hopped down to the ground off the partially built roof, ignoring the damage he took, then went inside. He put the blocks away in a nearby chest, making sure it was organized and hopefully wouldn’t lead to a chest monster. Once everything was stored, Grum hopped onto his bed and started to shift to sleep mode.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in sleep mode exactly, but Grum knew it wasn’t long when something woke him up. Specifically from someone coming inside the house. “What, back so soon? Let me guess, you’re low on charge again.”

“I don't really have that.” A voice that wasn’t Jrum’s spoke up and Grum sat up to see Dream.

“I apologize. My brother and I got into a fight.” The robot said, flopping back down

There was a short moment of silence and Grum could imagine the admin shrugging. “It’s fine. Not many people get along all the time here.” Part of Grum wanted to doubt this guy. There was always something off about him, but at the same time… “I see your place is almost done.”

“Yes it is.”

Grum could imagine a nod. “It’s impressive. You only started two days ago and it’s already almost done even at this size.”

Two days ago? That didn’t sound right. He had started… today? But then how had he…? : ) No, that’s right, two days ago. “Can I ask why you’re visiting?”

“Well, you and your brother showing up is pretty interesting. And even though we have people of all kinds here, no one’s a robot.”

“Well now my brother and I are here and we are.” Grum replied, finally sitting back up, knowing the conversation wasn’t ending anytime soon.

“Yeah. Makes me wonder how much we can figure out from you two. Like there’s one thing I figured out which is pretty interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“Hmm… you know I think it’s actually two.”

Grum rolled his eyes. “Yes, and those would be?”

“The first is you can’t remember the last few minutes before you crashed.” Dream said, leaning in the doorway as if what he said was something simple like ‘I saw a cloud’ or ‘it’s almost night time’. It stunned Grum and made him take a moment in processing it. He had trouble remembering before crashes? How did the admin know that? Had he seen it happen? I mean, he would have-

“The second is for some reason you tend to crash when that one person Fundy knows gets mentioned. I think his name is… Iskall?”

For a moment, Grum could almost hear the grin of the admin, before everything went magenta, then black.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in sleep mode exactly, but Grum didn’t think it had been that long when something woke him back up. Specifically from someone coming inside the house. “What, back so soon? Let me guess, you’re low on charge again.”

“Uh, yeah he is.” An unfamiliar voice spoke.

Jrum was slightly jostled from sleep mode when something moved him. He wanted to get up and move to see what it was, but the 12% battery he had left didn’t really give him much cause to try. Instead he just shifted slightly to tell whatever was disturbing him that he had woken up.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not planning to hurt you.” A voice spoke, and they sounded really nice, so Jrum was pretty sure they were telling the truth. “You look a little tired. I don’t have a bed with me, but maybe some food will help?”

Jrum half comprehended the apple that was moved into his vision. He knew it was red and that it was supposed to feed him, so he weakly grabbed it and smacked it against his monitor screen. When he wasn’t able to eat it, Jrum whined, and a moment later the apple was taken back. “I guess no food then. Let’s find you a bed instead. My place is right nearby, so we can use that!”

“B-b-battery.” Jrum stuttered out, clinging to the fabric of whatever this person was wearing. His power conservation was making it hard to talk, but he was trying his best. “N-need ch-charge.”

“Argh! And it’s not a thunderstorm. What are we supposed to do instead?”

“H-house. Ch-charger.”

“Okay, where’s that?”

Jrum didn’t try answering verbally and just sort of tilted his head so the screen could be seen, displaying coordinates on it. He heard the person repeat it a few times before he darkened the screen again to conserve power.

He could feel the slight bounce from being in the person’s arms as they walked, and while at first it was a little jarring to him, it slowly felt more and more like it was being rocked. He kept expecting feathers to gently brush against him as his dad held him, but it didn’t come. He just fell back asleep.

His brother yelling at him unfortunately woke him back up and Jrum was clinging to his dad again. Grum was scolded, and Jrum realized it wasn’t his dad. He could feel himself being set on a bed and some fumbling around. “Where do I plug this thing in?” Jrum held out his hand and was given the charger cord before plugging it into his port, glad to be charging now that he was all the way down to 4%. 

“You should really build yourself one.”

Jrum didn’t respond, just charging, but the person replied for him. “Can’t you share? I mean you both live here.”

“I’d rather we not. He’ll just taint it with redstone everywhere or those little plants of his.”

That was enough for Jrum to respond. “Uggggh! Shut up and let me charge!”

“You’re the one in my house.”

“It’s our house!”

“Our house? I’m the one who built it. You didn’t even make that whole charger yourself, you got my help as well as Sam’s.”

“Well I need the charger just as much as you!” Jrum yelled, sitting up, and immediately regretting doing that as it felt like his head was spinning. “Stop being so selfish!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

“Hey! Language! And don’t talk to your brother like that!” The person said. Jrum was glad they said something, because Jrum just started crying again. Tommy… he cursed a lot. Doc also did plenty. Ren wasn’t quite as bad, but often you could catch him catching himself. Jrum had heard Xisuma throw a few curses out here and there, and even though his dads tried their best, because he was around them so much, Jrum had heard them curse. But this was different. 

He had never heard- okay that wasn’t true. Grum had cursed a few small times, but usually it was something small and when he was more upset at a mistake he made. But this? Grum yelling at him? That had never happened before. Plus, sure Grum tended to be the slightly more mature of them, trying to talk properly and ended up seeming much more robotic, but Jrum knew his brother could be playful and kind too. But recently he had seemed so cold and upset. It was like Jrum didn’t even know his brother.

As Jrum was hugged by the person who had been helping him, neither of them knew what was going on in Grum’s mind as he came to the same thought. It was if he didn’t even know himself.

“Oi! Stop being such a fucking bitch!” Tommy yelled as he flinched away from another piece of TNT Grifter had placed and Tommy had almost run into. “I still don’t know if I’ll fucking respawn!”

“I said you will!” Grifter said, holding back evil giggles.

Tommy grumbled before taking another stick from his inventory and chucking it at the explosive material after walking a few more blocks. The moment the stick touched it, the TNT exploded, leaving a hole behind. 

“I still don’t understand why the fuck we’re here and not back in Helscraft. I thought you wanted to see your boyfriend.”

“He's not my boyfriend, he’s my husband.” Grifter corrected. “And I said there’s something we need to pick up first.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, but continued to follow the hels avian since he didn’t want to get stranded here. “So, you’re also an avian like Grian.”

“Yes I am.” Grifter responded along with a flutter of his wings. “And?”

“Well it’s prettt fucking obvious Grian’s a parrot. I know my Phil’s a crow. The Phil here looked basically the same, but if it’s something else maybe a raven? I heard they have really similar wings. But what are yours?”

“Magpie. And yeah, dad’s a raven.”

“Cool, cool.” Tommy nodded, trying to think of something else to ask. “Uh, what exactly are we after?”

“Aww, don’t you want it to be a surprise?”

“Fuck no. For all I know it’s some trap to try and kill me.”

“I would never!” Grifter said sarcastically. “It’s just something I’m sure Sense wants to see just as much as me. I put them here just before getting trapped and made sure you couldn’t get them again without going to the right coordinations.”

“And how much further do we still need to go?”

“Not much. I could have been there ages ago if I wasn’t dragging you along.”

“You’re the one who kept putting down TNT!”

Grifter responded to that comment by placing down another piece of the explosive, Tommy running into it this time and it lighting, the teen desperately running away before it actually exploded.

“You bird bitch!”

“Oh shut up, we’re here.”

Tommy looked around and saw nothing. “And what’s here?”

Grifter didn’t answer, just smiled as the ground shifted and part of it started to rise from the ground, slowly shifting into an elongated spiral. Tommy watched as the material shifted into bedrock and then magic emanated from it with green particles. Grifter went over and reached a hand in, then a second, and the. He put his whole head in as he continued to look for whatever was on the other side of… Tommy was pretty sure it was a portal.

“THEY’RE AWAKE!” Grifter shouted at the top of his lungs when he pulled his head out again, scaring Tommy and making him fall over in panic.

“Man, what the fuck, don’t do shit like that!”

Grifter didn’t answer, just went back into the portal, this going through time all the way up to his hips. He was short enough his legs were just left flailing around as he tried to reach something on the other end. An arm started to come back and Tommy was surprised it was dragging something along. “What the fuck. Is that Jrumbot?!”

Grifter came back dragging along what looked to be Grumbot. “Oh? They exist in your world? That helps explain it. But no, these are Sefter and… did we ever give the second one a name?”

“You and your version of Mumbo built these?”

“No, not really.”

“Then did you find them somewhere or some shit.”

Tommy regretted asking when Grifter looked at him with a smirk. “You see, when two people love each other a lot, they end up taking all their clothes off and-”

“Don’t you fucking continue with that! And how do you even make something like that when you two are not that?! Wait, never mind. My brother had a fox with a fish.”

“Huh, not adopted then? Good to know. But yeah, I’m sure you’ve heard the parrots and the bats before. And these two came out of one very wonderful night-” “I said don’t talk about it!” “-though they didn’t seem right and so we tried checking them out, but nothing. Then I sort of got a bounty on my head and I hid them away here!”

“So you just had versions of Grum and Jrum before they were built?!”

“Uh, I suppose so. It’s a shame they had to build them and not-“

“Can you please fucking stop and just get us to Helscraft.”

“Of course! I’m sure the kids will love to see their papa.”

“I would ask another question, but I think I know the answer.”

“I can tell you’re right.” Grifter smirked before taking them to Helscraft. “Oh Evil X! Guess who’s back in town!” There was no answer and he pouted. “Hello? Where’s the fun of showing up if no one is here to freak out?”

“Uh, going to see the person you came to visit? Tommy suggested. 

“Well yeah, but I don’t know where he is while you do.” Grifter crossed his arms before looking up at the sky. A few moments later, the reddish purplish hue of the shy shifted into the same color of an ender pearl, maybe a bit brighter. “There, that should let people know I’m here. Now where’s Sense?”

“Uh… we go through the portal on the main island, follow a path with blue clouds until we get to NPG’s place. We pick up something to let us breathe, and then you go right.”

“You go… right? Like is that east? West? North or south?”

Tommy shrugged. “Dunno. It’s just right.”

“Alright fine, just show me where we’re going before everyone shows up to try and trap me again. Come on boys!” Grifter called to the two robots who had been running around who quickly came back over to him. “And maybe on the way I can think of a name for you.” Grifter booped where a nose would be on the hels version of Jrum.

As Tommy guided them, Grifter spent the time brainstorming ideas for names while ignoring all the mobs that were trying to kill them. Tommy did his best to fight off the monsters, but he still didn’t have much gear, still only having what was salvaged from the one room in the prison.

“So obviously my other side and I had the same idea with names, so something based on that, but I’m not sure what would fit there. Do I just use a d as well for defter?”

Tommy shot another of the living cloud things out of the sky, wishing the thing had infinity since he was down to seven arrows. “It was actually a J, but I guess it does sound like Drum instead of Jrum sometimes.”

“Hmm, you’re right, I can sort of hear a difference. Now, I could also do something else… Where did the J come from again?”

“It was from the word junior I think.” Tommy said before needing to dodge an attack, nearly being hit by a second in the process. “You think you want to help out at all?!”

“They’re aggroed on you, not us, so it’s fine. Hmm, maybe something that’s a synonym?”

“Well if I die to these things, then they’ll be after you!”

“Ugh, fine.” Grifter rolled his eyes and summoned some gear for Tommy. “Put on the armor and use that instead of a bow. It works better and is less affected by gravity.”

Tommy took the armor and put it on before looking at the tube he had been given along with a bunch of darts. He tried firing a few of them, but he just kept missing. “I’d prefer arrows over these things!” Tommy shouted back, making the Listener get closer and use some magic on the bow, giving it infinity.

“There? Happy? Now maybe Befter for Brother? Brefter? Hmm, younger Yefter? No, that sounds stupid. I could try another name mix? But already used Sefter and while Pergrift sounds nice, that’s supposed to be our name. Maybe Grifter then Sense? Grise? Grense? Or maybe use Perfect instead and get Grifect. Oh yes! Grifect! Sefter and his little brother Grifect! Oh it’s just right!”

“Great! Now that you figured it out can you please just fucking help out and shit?!”

Grifter rolled his eyes, but did start to help, but he also gave the two helsbots some weapons to see what they could do. Grifect did okay, but Sefter seemed to take to it like a fish to water. Tommy thought it was even a little scary how well the kid was doing. But at the very least it kept them safe while traveling and they were able to move faster, arriving at NPG’s base before too long. 

Grifter refused to take a single step into the place, claiming NPG was his mortal enemy or something, so Tommy was the one to go inside and find what they needed. Rifling through chests, Tommy found some wood called skyroot, and used that to make a chest and sign, dumping the stuff from the prison into it. He then put a sign on the front of the chest for NPG for whenever he got back. ‘Theseus replace me. needed gear. Srry about grifte. Tommy’.

It was a little hard to get the message out while fitting it on the sign, but Tommy hoped it would be enough. He then went over to the nearby armor stands and took armor from the stand that had a set of purple armor as well as an elytra. Based on what Tommy had seen people wearing the short time he had been there, he was pretty sure the pink armor was the equivalent to netherite here, but diamond equivalent would do fine and he didn’t want to steal good armor.

After that he went looking for tools and weapons and food. He grabbed a sword, pick, axe and the masks he came in here for in the first place. During his search, he also grabbed what seemed to be a special crossbow, some more arrows, fireworks, blocks for making bridges, and some food. Finally, just to be completely safe, not knowing how long he would be stuck with all this gear, Tommy also grabbed a wooden bucket filled with water in case of MLG jumps, and a shulker box that he emptied out into other nearby chests.

Out of all the things he was glad to grab, Tommy didn’t expect the water bucket to come in handy so soon, but when he left the base, he was greeted with Grifter putting TNT down to blow the place up. The teen rushed to each of the explosives and covered them with water before detonating them, which left Grifter upset, but at the very least he didn’t seem to try it again.

“Okay, now time to go find Sense.” Tommy spoke up, getting Grifter to stop being as angry as before. He led them on the same path NPG had taken them on the initial visit, eventually leading them to the bridge of purple clouds. Tommy showed the hels avian what he was supposed to do, but instead he just picked up one of the kids and flew them over before grabbing the other and doing the same, leaving Tommy wondering why he hadn’t just used his elytra.

From there, they walked further ahead until they saw a small house. The moment Tommy pointed at it, Grifter raced off towards it, yelling at the top of his lungs. “SEESEE!!! I’M BACK!!!” And just as he was reaching the building, Sense was coming through the door and got tackled by Grifter. Tommy was left to catch up, dragging the kids behind him, glad that this place seemed to be permanently devoid of mobs and he didn’t need to deal with any of them too.

The teen honestly didn’t know what he expected when he found the two helsmits still on the ground kissing each other. The only thing that Tommy didn’t expect at all was the green magic around them, and when Grifter finally pulled away, the teen was surprised to see the scar that had been on Sense’s neck was gone now. “Did… Did you just fucking kiss him to heal him?”

“I mean, I didn’t need to…” Grifter started.

“Oh but it was definitely the best way.” Sense finished for him, sitting up. “And are those who I think they are?”

Grifter jumped back up. “Yes! They were kept perfectly safe and now they’re even active!” He pulled the robot kids over to introduce them. “This one’s Sefter as I believe you probably remember, and now this one is named Grifect. Unless you think another name would do well.”

“No, it fits quite well.” Sense replied before pulling Grifter close to him again. “And you said they’re active? How did you manage that? Was it all those planning sessions?”

“Oh no, I’d never manage to pull off the things you could. It just seems that they showed up before they had counterparts, and now they’re working with them.”

“Ugh, must we be the alternates and not the originals?”

“For all you know, that could mean we end up like those prude mirror versions of ourselves.”

“Hmm, I would miss the mind blowing s-”

“O-Kay! Since you’re together, does this mean I can get back home now? I got you out of prison and now got you to your husband, so now it’s your turn!”

“Yeah yeah. You’re going to need to find EX because I can’t get you there without extra help.”

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock, then anger. “Are you telling me I did all of this shit for you and you can’t fucking do anything?!”

“Hey, I got you out of season four. You couldn’t have done that alone. But I’m just a Listener. If I had help from someone else like a Watcher, then maybe I could do something. EX is an admin, a hacker, is linked to Hermitcraft and that dimension from his brother and the fact that he’s not 100% biologically a hels being.”

Tommy grumbled. “Fine, but can you at least teleport me to him so I don’t have to try and find him myself?”

“No he can’t. He’s not around.” Sense spoke up. “Word went out that he’s off visiting Hermitcraft again.”

“Again? How long has he been going?”

“Since a few months ago when NPG pulled someone over. The message goes out every once and a while leaving someone else in charge. With the bastard that attacked me gone to visit family, Prof’s the one in charge.”

“He’s actually not gone for family. The bitch replaced me instead.”

Sense raised an eyebrow at that. “Is that so? My my, and that lead to Grifter getting out. Wouldn’t it be fun to him coming back and finding someone else in his place.”

“Look, I’m sure you two want plenty of time with each other to do evil and gross things, but unless you can figure something out, I’m gonna bother you two until you fucking do something!”

Grifter rolled his eyes before pulling away from Sense. “Alright fine you little shit. We’ll figure something out. And if we can’t, then we can kill you instead.”

Tommy started backing up. “Uh, did I say bother you two, I meant, I’ll ask politely every once and a while. I’m sure that sounds good, right?”

“No no, Gri’s got a point.” Sense smiled. “With you gone you’ll be gone from Hermitcraft for good, and when that happens, well, the same thing will happen to Theseus. Making sure he can’t try anything more.”

“Aww, c’mon. Maybe since he’s there and I’m here, it won’t work?” Tommy asked in a somewhat pleading tone. “Please don’t kill me.”

Grifter pulled out a piece of TNT, ready to use it on Tommy, when Grifect tugged on his tunic shirt. “Aww, what do you want sweetie? Do you want to have fun with him first?”

“Wouwdn’t uwu wanna huwt the pewson who huwt papa fiwst instead of him?”

Tommy was very conflicted by that. On one hand, it looked like this kid was going to save his life. On the other, did they really need to do it by dealing him who knows how many points of psychic damage? “Uh, yeah, listen to the kid.” ‘Either to make you change your mind or make your ears bleed.’ He continued in his mind.

“Aww, my little pumpkin is already talking!” Grifter cooed, and the second option went out the window. “Well do you have any ideas on what to do?”

“Maybe hacking awnd wistenew powews wowking togethew cawn wowk!” Grifect answered and now Tommy was wondering if maybe death wouldn’t be all that bad. 

“Oh my! Are you telling me you know how to hack! That is wonderful! Oh Sense it’s like the perfect family!”

“Well it’s my family, so of course it is.”

“Yes, everything with you is perfect. Perfect plans, perfect family, perfect-”

“Oh my god please just kill me so I don’t have to listen to this anymore.” Tommy groaned. Fortunately, that seemed to work because apparently he kept ‘killing the mood’ anyway. Within a few moments, Tommy felt like he was falling even though everything around his was a weird purple color. And then suddenly, his feet were on the ground and he was standing in what seemed to be a large empty building. And based on the noises coming outside, said building was in the nether.

“Ugh. Well, at least I still have the fucking gear.”

[skywillsometimeswrite]

Why?

So I got really inspired by @target-block ‘s Evil!Impulse and Evil!Stress AU and so I decided let’s throw a hastily written fic at them

(I have barely watched Impulse, and I haven’t seen much of Stress, so literally it’s all spitballing but they’re evil so its fiiiiine)

Read it on AO3

“Why, Impulse? Why are you doing this?”

Impulse glanced over his shoulder at his old friends, Bdubs physically holding Tango back. If Bdubs even loosened his grip Tango would most definitely charge right at Impulse. He wonders if his old friend would hit him. He was never the particularly violent type, so maybe he would try and talk him out of the high that he was currently riding from his carnage spree. Would he hug him and try and use some heartfelt words to sway him back over to being his old self? The thought amused Impulse, making his smile grow to show his teeth off.

He laughed, loud and hearty, just like he used to at Zedaph’s more ridiculous ideas, or when Bdubs would get himself blown up. He caught a glimpse of Tango’s confused expression shifting into one of betrayal before he looked out on the damage that he had caused.

He breathed in the tell tale smell of wither roses, relishing in his handiwork as ghasts, blazes, and even a few withers flew around the shopping district. The roses had a distinct smell, one that mingled quite well with smoke, nether wart, and spider eyes as he had learned when concocting this most magnificent scheme with his two partners in crime. That beautiful symphony of smells now hung over the shopping district, the once green grass Scar placed now brown and dead or black with the wither effect seeping into its roots. Impulse thought it was quite the improvement. The place had gotten to be a bit too colorful for his liking.

“Why?” He echoes back to Tango, spinning on his heel. He held a wither rose in his calloused hand that had become immune to the wither effect the plant held. His fingertips were stained black and faded as they went down. He had lost full feeling in them ages ago, but that never hindered him. If anything, it helped since he didn’t have to worry as much about his own weapons and traps hurting him when he set them up. Not to mention facing down wither skeletons in the nether had become nothing but a simple chore. “You want to know why?”

“Yes! Why would you betray us like this? What have we ever done to you?” Bdubs’ voice grated against Impulse’s ear drums and he couldn’t help how he nearly crushed the precious flower in his fist.

Impulse walked towards his previous coworkers, circling them on top of Scar’s magnificent  Scara Junior. Impulse picked the black petals off of the rose, letting them flutter down onto the organic material of the stem, and lazily watched as they formed a circle of decay around his enemies. Ordinarily, just the petals wouldn’t do much, but the stem soaked up all of the withering effect that it could. It quickly spread to the point underneath Tango and Bdubs, and despite how the two tried, they were never particularly strong: in will or in body. Their coughs and groans as their beings filled with unwavering pain was music to Impulse’s ears, even more so as he felt the familiar feeling creep up his own legs and reinvigorate him. 

“What have you ever done to me?” Impulse’s voice raised, incredulous, before it fell again, black particles falling from his mouth as the withering effect spread within his body. “Are you serious? The better question is what haven’t you done to me?

All you guys have ever done is use me. I finish one job, and you guys want something bigger. And every time I’m lucky if I get even a little bit of gratitude. I help you with your games, I help you with your projects, I help you with your farms, I give you resources, I design new machines and what do I get in return? A ‘thanks’ and a guarantee that you’ll come back to me when you need something else.”

He kneeled in front of the two hermits, both of them holding their chests as the incredible, beautifully hideous wither spread through them, slowly draining away their life. That was probably one of Impulse’s favorite parts of using the petals over full flowers: it was a lot slower of a death.

He gently put one of his wither tainted fingers underneath Tango’s chin, lifting his head up so he could look into his pain filled red eyes. “Even you, Tango. The only reason I’m here is because you needed someone to do your work for you. I’m surprised you didn’t see this coming.”

Tango opened his mouth, a strangled sound escaping in what almost sounded like a word before it devolved into horrendous coughs that brought a smile to Impulse’s face. He dropped the other’s head, standing proudly over the men.

This was by far the best payment he could have asked for.

-----

“Stress, I don’t understand, why are you doing all this?”

Iskall was precariously balancing on the Logz blimp, his arms out as he tried to steady himself. This sight caused Stress to giggle, and Iskall’s disturbed expression at the almost normal sound was clear on his face. She knew, if it had been anyone else standing in front of him, he wouldn’t have hesitated to charge forward and impale them. But this was Stress in front of him, his best friend. He adored her, and she knew that very well. So of course she was going to use that to her advantage.

“You’re a smart guy, Iskall, I’m sure you can figure it out.” She said, catching how his eyes drifted out over the shopping district and to the roof of the Colored Complete shop. Now that she didn’t appreciate. She wasn’t harmless, perhaps she had to remind him of this.

She twirled a lingering potion in her hand, spinning it on her fingertip before gingerly tossing it at Iskall’s feet. It shattered, the sickly green liquid exploding all over the wood. The fumes quickly wafted up, causing Iskall to cover his mouth, but it was all too late. The poison spread through his body, making his vision sway and his stomach retch, Stress knew. She had tested it enough times to know the exact effects on a person, and she didn’t need a watch to know exactly when it would end.

“You should keep your eyes on me if you know what’s good for you, luv. I’m not some cute dainty flower, you know -- well, I am adorable, but that's not the point, now is it?”

Iskall was definitely one of the tougher hermits, she had to give him that. Most anyone else would be rendered incapacitated from her enhanced poison potions, but he managed to glare at her between wet coughs. He took a few steps towards her, out of the fading cloud of poisonous fumes, and took a deep breath of air. Not that it would help him much, considering the amount of smoke that lingered around them.

“Seriously, Stress, what is all this about? We’re friends aren’t we? What’s gotten into you?”

She rolled her eyes, groaning at such a typical Iskall response. Really, he couldn’t be more predictable could he? She pulled out a splash potion, watching the ink black liquid swirl around inside the fragile glass.

“You really think I’m so simple, do ya?” She took a step forward, watching Iskall take a step backwards from the corner of her eye. “Sure, we were friends, Iskall. But that got old real quick, it did. Y’see I got real tired of being this little do gooder that could do no wrong. The one everyone underestimated. I wanted to prove to all of you how easily you were to fool. How easily I could fool you.”

She grinned at Iskall’s wide eye and shaking legs as she took another step forward. “You’re all really stupid, you know that? None of you even thought to suspect us! And we weren’t barely subtle at all. Luckily for us, you lot were so happy to cling on to the idea of poor Falsie being behind all of our messes that you didn’t look any farther into it!”

She sighed, squishing her cheek with the palm of her hand as she thought about it. “I do feel a lil’ bad, you know. About Falsie. I honestly didn’t think you’d straight up ban her. Must’ve been pretty scary for her.”

“We thought-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you lot thought. That sweet ol’ Impy and I wouldn’t hurt a fly, right?” She tossed the potion at him, knowing that he was enshrouded in darkness. Even his mechanical eye couldn’t see past a blindness potion that she had made. She walked towards him, sliding her hand up his arm and getting right up close to him. She wished she could frame his look of terror when she whispered:

 “Do you still think that?”

-----

“Grian, mate, really you gotta explain this to me. All of this. I-I don’t get why you’re doing all this.”

Ariana rolled her eyes at Mumbo. “How many times do I have to tell all of you? I’m not Grian, I’m Ariana Griande. I swear, you all are terrible with names.” She tutted.

“Yeah, right, whatever your name is, you need to stop this. Please. Or- Or at least tell me why you’re doing this. We can figure this out, I’m sure.”

Araina’s heels clicked on the noteblocks she stood on, walking over them as she examined Mumbo carefully. She hummed every note that played with every footstep she took. Sure, maybe Etho’s work was more refined and practiced, but Ariana was known for her voice not her instrumental talent. And of course for her explosive and fiery personality. Why else would Stress and Impulse recruit her?

“I think the better question is why wouldn’t I be doing this?” She asked Mumbo as she hopped off the noteblocks and onto the white concrete that made up the roof of Colored Complete. It was more grey now from all the smoke, but she thought that it looked far prettier that way. Fire always gave things that extra spice they needed.

“What?”

“Oh, come on Mumbo. Are you telling me you’ve never wanted to create a little chaos before?”

He spluttered, looking at her as if she was crazy before gesturing to the currently crisping shopping district. “This- this isn’t just ‘a little chaos!’ Grian, if you think this is all some harmless prank you gotta snap out of it, man. This is way, way, way worse than anything else you’ve ever done.”

“Ariana.” She corrected him again before walking to stand next to him and survey her fine handiwork. She had to compliment Impulse, the nether mods definitely helped a lot with the fire bit. And the ghasts certainly helped in the blowy-uppy part. Of course, most of the larger destruction was her own direct doing and she was quite proud of it all, even if it had made her skirt flutter up a little bit. She could sacrifice a little modesty for the sake of her art.

“And Mumbo, my dear Mumbo, I don’t think this is some harmless prank or whatever. No, I think,” she threw her arm over his shoulder, the heels making the reach less awkward. She still had to pull the man down to her height, though. “I think this is art. Beautiful art.”

She let him go, happily skipping back over to her noteblocks and sitting down on one, crossing her legs as she smiled out over the marvelously demolished shopping district. Her smile grew as a blaze lit a lone piece of TNT, the explosion adding to the brilliant cacophony of sounds that were already in the air. The crackling of fire, the screeches of ghasts, the breathy roars of withers, and of course her favorite sound: the panicked screaming of the hermits as they scrambled to salvage as much as they could.

Really, did she even need to explain why she did all of this? Why they did all of this? It seemed pretty obvious to her.

“You see, Mumbo, it’s all about making a statement.”

[floofy-bee-boi]

falling

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Desc; Iskall gets blown into the void while caving, and it isn’t very kind to him.

Word Count: 1,708

Warnings: Major Character Death (Non permanent), Mentions of Perma-Death, Panicking, Blood, Let me know if I need to add anything!

Note: In this one-shot, Iskall has one prosthetic arm and leg, similar to Doc’s arm.

(AO3 Link In Reblog)

Iskall set down a few torches, glancing around the dark cave. He was lighting things up to prevent mobs from spawning near his farm. He occasionally mined a few ores around before continuing through the cave. After walking through and putting down torches for a while, he stumbled upon a rather large hole. He crouched down, looking down into it. It was rather large in diameter, and it looked rather deep. Almost as if it went through bedrock right into the void. But that was highly unlikely. Bedrock was meant to be unbreakable. He knew Impulse hadn’t come and broken it. It must just go really far down.

Iskall chose to be somewhat smart about this, tossing a torch down into the hole. The light went on and on, never hitting the bottom. It only disappeared when it was too far to be seen. How deep was this hole? It seemed a bit dangerous to go down. He didn't have an elytra on him, not anticipating needing it in the cave. Digging straight down was always just a general bad idea. For various reasons.. Maybe he would come back when he had an elytra on him.

Or... Maybe he wouldn't. A hiss was heard behind him, and as soon as he turned around, a blast tossing him into the hole. Iskall let out a scream as he tried to catch onto something, but to no avail. His screams stopped as soon as he realized he wasn't hitting the ground.  He had been falling for several seconds, but no ground was hit.

He looked up, staring straight into the bottom of the world. The bedrock. Surrounding him was a cold blackness of nothing. He was in the void. No doubt about it. He was continuing to fall, the bedrock getting further and further. He was going to die here. Would he respawn in his bed? Or would he respawn back at spawn. Would he even respawn at all?

The air in the void started to thin, not doing much to help Iskall’s current hyperventilating. Would the void cause him perma-death? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to find out. Yet here he was. Finding out exactly that. He wrapped his arms around himself, stiffening at the sight of his robotic arm starting to disintegrate. It started turning to flakes, slowly drifting into the nothingness of the void. His eye started showing error messages as it and his robotic leg did the same. Vision in said eye went completely dark as he started to feel blood on his cheek.

He watched as the pieces of metal and drops of blood scattered while he fell. The pain was intense. He just wanted death already. The void was a cruel place to die in. This was unbearable. Why does it take so long? Why any of this? Tears formed in his normal eye as he let out a painful sob. 

What if it did cause perma-death? He couldn’t leave Grian and Mumbo. Or Stress. He couldn’t escape from Hermit Challenges. The cold brought numbness to most of his body. He could feel his whole body succumbing to the void. He let out a choked out laugh, hoping that he would respawn. Somewhere. Anywhere. He couldn’t leave yet.

Iskall85 fell out of the world.

-

Iskall took in a deep breath once he woke up suddenly in his bed. He winced at the harsh pain he felt, pushing himself up with his arm. He glanced around, looking for his communicator to message someone before realizing it was probably in the void. He groaned, pushing himself off the bed, leaning against the wall to keep himself balanced on his one leg. 

It was difficult to get anywhere, and at some point, his leg collapsed underneath him. He nearly fell face first onto the ground before he was caught and picked up by two arms from behind. Iskall turned to face whoever was behind him, seeing Grian’s concerned face.

“Iskall? What happened? You died in the void. That doesn’t happen very often. Are you-” Grian was cut off by Iskall resting his head on his friend’s shoulder and mumbling something unintelligible.

Grian sighed, gently petting Iskall’s hair. “I’m going to bandage you up and then I’m taking you to Mumbo.” He carefully took Iskall back to his bed, cleaning the blood off his face. Iskall didn’t even know he was still bleeding. He just accepted Grian’s care, lacking the energy to protest.

Once Grian was done bandaging him up, Iskall was picked up again. Iskall clung to him with his one arm while Grian took off flying in the direction of Mumbo’s base.

Grian stopped, landing at Mumbo’s base, calling out for their mustached friend. “Mumbo! Come help me with Iskall!”

Mumbo flew over to the two. “Hello- Shit Iskall- That doesn’t look good. I guess you did fall in the void.” He mumbled the last part rather softly. “Take him with me.”

Grian followed Mumbo into his base and set Iskall on a bed in a room he made for Iskall.

“I have the blueprints to remake your limbs but it will take a while to get them all done. Would you be okay staying here?” Mumbo asked Iskall.

Iskall nodded, leaning against the wall, not having the energy to sit up on his own. “Yeah..”

Grian smiled faintly at Iskall, glad he would be okay with Mumbo. “I’m going to head off now. Mumbo let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Mumbo nodded. “Yeah. Thanks Grian!” He waved as Grian flow out. He turned back to Iskall. “You can sleep if you want.” Iskall nodded, and with help from Mumbo, laid down under the blankets. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

Mumbo left, starting work on new parts for Iskall. He occasionally came back to get a measurement or two, Iskall sleeping through it.

After a few hours of relatively peaceful sleep, the quietness of Mumbo’s base was disturbed with a loud scream from where Iskall was previously asleep. Iskall quickly shot up in bed, his breathing quickened from a nightmare during his rest. 

Iskall pushed himself out of the bed, forgetting that he couldn’t walk anywhere at the moment. He fell onto the ground, curling up in a tight ball, sobbing softly.

It wasn’t long before Mumbo came to check on Iskall after hearing the scream. “Iskall? Are you-” He stopped at the sight of his friend on the ground. He frowned, sitting down beside him and gently pulled him into a hug. “What happened?” He asked softly.

Iskall clung to him with his singular arm while Mumbo gently rubbed his back. “I- I had a nightmare. I died.. In the void. And I didn’t respawn. It- It was perma-death Mumbo.”

Perma-death wasn’t usually a thing to worry about. Hermitcraft was somewhat forgiving when you died. However when it comes to the void, no one could really be 100% sure.

Mumbo held Iskall close, leaning back against the side of the bed. “It’s okay. You respawned. You’re here still.” 

Iskall nodded slowly, resting his head against Mumbo’s shoulder. “Didn’t make it any less terrifying though.” He whispered softly.

“I know, Iskall. You won’t fall into the void again though, okay?”

Iskall nodded again, having mostly calmed down now. He closed his eye, feeling tired again after that. He let Mumbo set him back on the bed, falling asleep under the blankets again.

When he awoke again, it was more peaceful. He slowly opened his eyes, spotting Mumbo working on a new robotic leg for him at a makeshift table. “Mumbo? What are you doing in here? And what time is it?”

“I came in here to keep an eye on you after earlier.” Mumbo smiled sheepishly. He then returned to his work, clearly avoiding the second question.

“Are you going to ignore my question?” Iskall knew that it was probably late, seeing as Mumbo had made decent progress on what he was doing.

“Three? In the morning?” 

Iskall sighed. “What did I expect..” Despite his concern for his friend’s sleep schedule, Iskall did appreciate that he would do this to help him.

Mumbo shrugged, continuing to do his work. “How did you.. end up in the void in the first place?”

Iskall hesitated before answering Mumbo. “I found a hole that.. I guess lead to the void. And I was in a cave.. And a creeper blasted me into it.”

Mumbo nodded slowly. “I see-” He was startled by the sudden sound of rockets going off. “What’s going on at this hour-?” He pushed himself up to go see who was outside.

Iskall glanced up, waiting for Mumbo to return. After a moment, Mumbo came back, Xisuma following behind him.

“Xisuma?” Iskall questioned.

Xisuma waved a bit at Iskall. “Hey Iskall. I’m.. Sorry about the void. There was.. A bit of a glitch with the server. And it caused the world to have some issues. I’m very sorry- I do believe I have fixed it now though.”

Iskall smiled faintly. “It’s okay. I’m fine. And uh.. Thanks for fixing it, X.”

“You’re welcome. However, I’ve also come to make someone rest.” 

Mumbo glanced away sheepishly. “Sorry, X.”

“Go on, get to bed. I’ll continue your work for a bit.” Xisuma set down a bed next to Iskall’s, pushing Mumbo towards it. Xisuma grabbed all the stuff Mumbo was working with, leaving the room.

Mumbo let out a sigh, flopping down onto the bed. He fell asleep rather quickly.

Iskall rolled his eyes, laughing quietly. “You really were tired then..” He curled up under his blanket again, falling asleep for the third time.

-

A few days later, Iskall finally got all the parts replaced. He glanced down at his hand, moving each of his fingers to test them out.

“Does everything work okay?” Mumbo asked him.

Iskall hesitated for a moment before he nodded. “Yes.. Thanks Mumbo!”  He smiled gratefully.

Mumbo smiled as well. “Let me know if anything needs adjusting, okay?”

Iskall nodded. He was grateful for Mumbo helping him. He could finally go back to doing things. Xisuma had fixed the glitch, so he didn’t have anthing to worry about. He finally felt able to relax and peacefully build his tree.

[fan-da-nerd]

He's back (pt2)

a hermitcraft/grian fanfic

tw: anxiety, threats, mentions of abandonment, guilt

ships: none

summary: scar has to entertain and distract a threatening ai while grian comes to help, still trying to hide from his past that is coming to haunt him

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

Grian paced back and forth down the walkway toward his mansion. The seemingly eternal sun blaze down, warming the concrete under his sneakers. He looked around at his mansion, looking for imperfections to fix or pesky birds to announce the presence of. Anything he could do to try and stop thinking about him. About them. He left them in the testing world. The world of messed up Redstone, failed builds, and of course, so. Many. Rustic. Houses. More than he could ever count. The testing world was for his failures. Put them in one place, leave them there and try to move on. 

They were his biggest failures. Messing up a Redstone circuit is one thing. Creating an ai and having to leave it to rot, is a very. Very different thing. NPC the failed tutorial bot, obsessed with rustic houses to the point of violence. Now he lived inside a cupboard, left to gather dust and build houses. He had clearly escaped before, hell he even one judged a game of build swap. But then Grian could always find him. Most of the time NPC would come to Grian immediately and try to get him to make a rustic house. But now he was gone, loose, with no sign of where he could have run off to.

I Grian stomped over to his grand stairs and sat down, placing his face in his hands. He looked off into the thick of the jungle and sighed. 

“This could get violent.”

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

Scar stared up at him, weirdly bright eyes and iconic red sweater. 

“G-Grian?” He asked, pushing himself up to stand. The man smiled widely and shook his head.

“Hello, my name is NPC grian-“ he stepped towards Scar and Scar stepped away in return. “-today we are going to build a rustic house in Minecraft!” Scar squinted, more than a bit confused by the being in front of him,

“I… Npc? What- I mean, I don’t really want to make a rustic house.” Now, NPC’s face may not have changed visually but something behind his eyes suddenly made the robot suddenly much more menacing. 

“Are you sure you don't want to build a rustic house? Now is a good time for me, don’t you like good times Scar?”  Scar froze up as NPC took another step towards him. 

“I-“ Scar pulled his communicator from his pocket and quickly tried to type.

Scar: uuhhhj grian, your an NCP and threatening me

He couldn’t exactly focus on what he typed as there was still a robot roughly half a foot from his face. “Hey uhh, could I get some personal space?” NCP stepped back but not that far. “Thanks bud. Now uh… I gotta talk to my friend to get some help for building this rustic house.” NPC laughed and shook his head again.

“You don’t need your friends help, you just to to listen to my tutorial” 

“But we….” Scar began to think panicky, trying to figure out an excuse, “We don’t have the material?” NPC seemed to think about this excuse. Scar stared at him, biting his lip as he waited. Then NPC stared into his eyes and nodded. Internally, scar completely deflated in relief. He quickly pulled out his communicator and saw very panicked messages from Grian.

Grian: oh no oh no oh no

Grian: stall, if he seems aggravated do what he says

Grian: where are you?!?!

GoodtimeswithScar: mifsit village

Stressmonster101: what’s going on?

Grian: scar I’m on my way, STAY SAFE

Scar took a breath and nodded. Help is on the way. All he had to do was deal with a rustic house obsessed robot until it arrived.

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

Grian was still staring into the jungle when his communicator lit up, signaling that there was a new message. 

Scar: uuhhhj grian, your an NCP and threatening me

As he read it his eyes slowly got wider as he read the message. This was it, exactly what he feared. NPC is out, and he’s found his way to the hermitcraft server. 

Grian: oh no oh no oh no

Grian: stall, if he seems aggravated do what he says

Grian: where are you?!?!

He gripped his rocket so hard it almost snapped, and waited for scars response. No answer came for several minutes. Grian became more panicked every second that passed. His leg bounced as he waited.

Waited.

Waited.

The moment his device lit up he spammed rockets, not even looking at the message before he took to the sky. Once he was in the air he glanced down and actually read the message. 

GoodtimeswithScar: mifsit village

Stressmonster101: what’s going on?

Grian nodded quickly and typed as he flew the short distance to get to scars homemade village.

Grian: scar I’m on my way, STAY SAFE!

As he flew past the Omega Tree he noticed iskall and mumbo talking together. They turned and watched the panicked man as he zipped off. They looked at each other and exchanged no words , just a simple nod, before jumping off and gliding down to follow the smaller builder. 

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

[kathasgotyourtongue]

Unpredictable Jokers (A Hermitcraft Fanfiction)

See previous chapters: prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 |

Chapter 4

~~~~~~~~~

"Right then, you should be good now, Scar. You feel alright, mate?" Xisuma asked, checking him over. Scar stretched his limbs and checked himself over as well.

"I think so! Thanks a lot, X! Seems like we can finally get looking now, Grian!" Scar said excitedly. Grian lit up. He could finally try to track down that player he saw a while ago!

"Oh? Where are you two off to?" Iskall asked, still amused by Scar's previous situation. Grian tensed. He didn't know how they would react to their adventure. Though, something told him it probably wasn't a smart idea to start with.

"Well, Grian saw someone at the jungle edge earlier, so I promised to help him look once we got this all worked out!" Scar interjected. Grian nearly slapped his forehead right then. Scar was sweet, but he could be dense sometimes. Very dense.

"You.. saw someone?" Xisuma asked cautiously. His eyes scanned over the two. Grian chuckled nervously. He knew X was already aware of the server mystery, and he was almost positive that the mention of it would turn his mood sour.

"O-Oh right! Well, I mean- as a supreme prankster myself, I just want to make sure I do my part to avoid any shenanigans! Heheh..." he laughed nervously, praying Xisuma would by it. X was quiet a moment.

"You saw the person again.. didn't you, Grian?" he asked, his voice quiet. Defeated, Grian looked away and nodded. Xisuma could see right through him. There was no use trying to hide it.

X sighed tiredly. An awkward silence fell upon them before he finally spoke again.

"Look. I don't want anyone approaching this supposed "person" if they can help it. We don't know how dangerous they are. Things aren't adding up, so until we get more info.. I don't like the idea of two mere builders heading out into the jungle to find some unknown character." Grian frowned. Sure, he had just been scolded like a child, which he kind of saw coming. But then X had to go low enough as to say him and Scar couldn't survive by themselves? It kind of annoyed him.

"I get that it may be dangerous, X. But come on! Grian and I have managed to get where we are on our own already! Besides, we can just respawn." Scar interjected. Grian nodded in agreement. Scar had a good point afterall.

Xisuma and Iskall exchange a glance, as if having a silent conversation. After a minute, Iskall sighs and turns to the builders.

"Look, guys.. It's just... Well, how do I put this? You two.. aren't exactly known for your pvp skills. Infact, one could say you two are quite awful at it..! We just don't want you two to be left to fight some unknown force on your own. Besides, we don't even know what they can do yet.." Iskall said, trying to sound kind about it. Though, enough had been said, and both builders were a bit hurt by the words.

Grian sighs and locks his gaze to the ground. He knew they were right. Hell, he even knew it was stupid of him and Scar to go out alone to find some strange entity! But yet... he felt a nagging urge to find this person. Maybe when more info was gathered.. maybe he could go along with a group of hermits to find them. If they would be alright with some extra weight, that is.

"..Ok.." Grian mutters dejectedly. Scar gasps.

"What!? Are you sure, G-man? You were so intent on going earlier!" He asks. Grian nodded meekly, his eyes directed to the floor. He held back his emotions, biting down on his bottom lip to stop its quivering.

"It's what Xisuma wants, so..." he trailed off quietly. The others' expressions soften. It would be lying to say that they didn't feel bad.

X stumbles over his words as he tried to find the right ones to use in response. Sure, what he had said was what he wanted. He wanted his friends who suck at pvp to stay safely at their bases building away, or at the Shopping District interacting with the others and trading for diamonds! Not running off and venturing out into the jungle on the hunt for some mysterious force by themselves.

Yet, from the way Grian said that... he felt quite guilty. Especially when realizing Grian used and pronounced his name correctly as Xisuma and not X-I-zoom-uh or Zoom-uh  like he did usually to joke with him. X felt a pang in his chest at the realization.

He never liked to put his foot down like this. It made him feel guilty and awful, even when he knew it was for the best. They were his friends, so he had to! It would ensure his friends' safety which overruled everything- even the pain of telling them no. He knew that. Being responsible for the server brought that into the job description! So then why..

"W-We can come with you!"

...Why did he say that?

Everyone's eyes widened as they registered what was just said. X realized what he said as well, but it was already too late. The words had left his mouth and he couldn't just take them back now. Grian and Scar lit up and looked to him excitedly, while Iskall stared at him in utter disbelief.

"Really!?" The three said simultaneously. Where as both Grian and Scar sounded excited, Iskall sounded baffled. The idea to tell them he didn't actually mean to say that statement crossed Xisuma's mind, but he already knew what was a right choice. Plus, he couldn't even begin to think of the heart break he would cause if he took that back.

"Yeah!- Well, if it's alright with you, Iskall. I don't want them to face anything on their own, but... maybe if they had some better protection..? I don't see why they can't at least have one quick look around... We could even possibly find a good lead or clue while we are out there...!" He says awkwardly. Iskall raised a brow skeptically.

"You totally sure about this, dude? I mean.. yeah, it sucks to tell them no, but you shouldn't give in so easily-" Iskall started.

"I'm sure!- Um, I mean..! I understand your concern, Iskall, but I do believe that a good compromise to the situation at hand would be to accompany them and see if we find something. We're stronger in numbers anyway." X interrupted, growing more confident about his decision. Iskall was hesitant, before a grin spread across his face.

"Ok then dudes! Let's go find ourselves a mystery man!"

[hermitcraft-mal-au-askblog]

Hi Mal! I know this is probably a touchy subject, but what motivated you to 'do repeated time travel' in the first place?

“..W-well, that’s a bit.. personal, don’t you think?

..but I suppose I can answer, it’s not like I can keep all of my secrets forever.

All that I ask of you is that you do not tell the others.

..with that out of the way, I suppose it’s best to start at.. hm.. let’s say..

Well, aaaages ago, in what you’ll remeber as season 7, Mumbo came across a strange portal on the outskirts of the jungle.”

“When he mentioned it in chat, of course Iskall was intrigued- but Grian was the first to respond, in almost a panicked fashion, and proceeded to freak out the instant they had all gathered at the portal.

None of them were sure what to do. Xisuma was afk, so they didn’t have any other options. Naturally, Mumbo wanted to go through the portal- but Grian insisted he not go alone, and right before they headed through together, he also told Iskall to make sure nobody came through after they left.

They were logged off the server the instant they went though. About 6 hours after the two entered the portal, the gateway closed unexpectedly. Iskall messaged Xisuma right away, as he had just gotten back from being afk, and he made his way over.”

“It was day by now, and it wasn’t long before the portal reopened and two new figures stepped out, looking similar to Grian. A few of the other hermits who had been attracted to whatever was going on began to greet them, welcoming them to the server.

Now, Grian never exactly told Iskall what to do if someone did come through, he didn’t think it would actually happen. He was gravely unprepared for what would happen next.

Stress had decided to give the two new guys a tour of the server, while a few others stayed behind to figure out what was going on.

But it was too late. The trap had already been set.”

“That’s when they came through. ‘The watchers’, I’ve heard them called. While their weapons were not made of diamond, they were made of some new material, that could hold far more enchantments than any other item we knew- and even had enchantments we had never seen before.

We may not have been outnumbered, but we were overpowered the instant they were able to take out Xisuma.”

“They had done something to the server’s code. Any time someone died, they automatically left the game- never to return- and removed from the whitelist. The instant they got rid of X, i knew the others had no chance.

They moved incredibly fast- everyone who didn’t try to fight back had scattered in the chaos. I could tell when someone was about to die; any time they found someone trying to run or hide, the sky would turn purple. I guess that’s a side effect of disabling respawn.”

“It was only about 2 days, but very quickly the numbers on both sides diminished, until there were only two people left in the server. And no matter how hard Iskall tried to run, hide, or try to find a way to fix respawn- nothing worked. The server was properly broken. And with all the time he spent trying to fix things, it wasn’t long until watcher 1 found him.”

“Oddly enough, she didn’t attack right away. At first, she asked a question.

“Do you want to see your friends again?”

Too angry to listen, he readied himself for a fight. Though, the watcher was certainly surprised. Every other time, he had ran away while trying to fix things.

“I’ll assume that’s a no. But Instead of running away, you’re coming right to me? I’m impressed.”

“I can’t kill you without getting closer.”

And while he would try his hardest to kill her- try his hardest to avenge the fallen hermits, all was in vain, and he quickly lost. Not just the fight, but just robotic eye was lost as well.

Once more, she tried to reason with him. She refused to land the final blow.

“Now that you’ve tired yourself out, I’ll ask again. Do you want to see your friends?”

But her words fell on deaf ears, as he had passed out due to blood loss and exhaustion.”

“Willing to give him another chance, another portal was opened, and the watcher dragged him through. The watchers had agreed to let at least one hermit live after all- for reasons that would go unknown for what felt like decades.”

“I-I know probably none of this makes any sense, but I think I might explode if I go into any more detail right now.

B-But basically, the reason why I kept going back in time was to prevent that whole mess. It never worked, really.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a moment.”

[enderprtl]

Jigsaw

here’s my first fic for @mine-sara-sp​‘s shadow people au, giving a little light towards shadow!grian, whom i give the charming little nickname to. 

warning: mentions of starvation and well, stabbing.

i am working on another fic for shadoc and part two of Jigsaw

Everyone’s shadow was different. Mumbo’s shadow as a sweetheart, barely could talk and hovered over Mumbo like a concerned parent. Doc’s shadow was scared and antsy, following Murmur, Mumbo’s shadow- given the nickname due to his limited vocabulary- around, feeling safe around only him. 

Grian’s shadow was terrifyingly different. 

His was a psychopath. At least that’s what he would say. Grian’s shadow felt excitement torturing people, not killing them like a certain pink-helmeted shadow. Grian only ever summoned the thing once, by total accident, and killed it as soon as the thing went too far. Poor Iskall was near starved and Grian came in to rescue him quickly, getting rid of the shadow. 

Iskall healed quick and in the Sahara meeting room, or at least what remained of it (apparently some of Grian’s TNT went off, but when prodded, Iskall and Mumbo provided no real information), spoke softly about the encounter-

“He’s like Jigsaw man. The dude was crazy!”

Grian played with one of the Sahara Now tokens on the table, “What… did he do?”

“You know, Jigsaw things- puzzles, tourture devices… the likes.”

“He… sounded like me, right? Was it weird?” 

Iskall paused, stirring the rabbit stew set before him by Mumbo, who quickly ran off to make some more food,

“Yes. I felt like… it was you who was doing it.” 

Grian spun the coin and watched it clatter to the table, he scrunched up his face in confusion, only to get up and fly out the room.

Iskall stood up quickly only to be pushed down by a wispy figure- Murmur. Iskall sighed, “I’m fine, Murmur…”

“No. Eat. Now.”

Iskall sighed and sat down, picking at the carrots floating in his stew.

Grian skittered to a halt outside of the shadow temple, watching the shadows warp and twist unnaturally with the sun. Grian stood in the arch of the temple, sighing heavily. 

<Grian summoned their own shadow.>

Grian watched with disgust as his shadow pulled away from the walls, yellow triangles open up like eyes, the sickening grin unzipping as Grian shadow spoke,

“Hey.”

Grian pulled out his sword, taking a faulty battle stance, “You want to tell me exactly why you took Iskall? He has done nothing to you.” 

“It’s fun! His funny little face as I dropped some very delicious golden apples just out of his reach was DELIGHTFUL!” 

“You disgust me.”

“I am you, Grian.”

Grian held his sword a little closer, noticing the obvious shaking in his hands as his shadow’s grin grew wider. His shadow puffed and reappeared by Grian’s side, leaning in too close for comfort, 

“You haven’t seen him that thin in a long time, haven’t you?”

Grian swung his blade to the side, attempting to get at his shadow, only to miss the faulty swing and fall to the ground, blinded by unkempt rage. Shadow Grian laughed, and laughed, gripping his own stomach with each cackle. Grian hated it, hated the stupid laugh, hated the stupid personality, hated how much he was like him. Grian stood up and rolled his shoulders back,

“Hey!”

Shadow Grian perked up, his grin getting cat-like, all too much like Keralis’ sweet smile, “Yes, Grian…?”

“Eat dirt.”

Grian swung his sword up in a grand arch, getting just enough of his shadow to push it to the ground, he scrambled over to it raising him blade above him with two hands, breathing heavily. Shadow Grian laughed, gripping his shoulder where Grian’s blade came down, 

“Wait…”

Grian paused, “What?”

“Call me Jigsaw.”

And he disappeared. 

[star-captain]

Pirate Attack- Part One

Part one? Yes! This story got a little big to be one part, so I had to split it up. 

Red has made it to the land of the hermits, just in time to meeting Iskall’s friends and devise a plan to take out another guardian farm. 

Red is the imagination of @theguardiansofredland​

“So actually this works out great.” Iskall states, looking at the other two Architechs as well as his finned friend. Red is sopping wet, much to the chagrin of Iskall. He just wants the meeting room to be clean...for once. “I was just about to try and get a message out to you...ah…” 

“It’s Red.” He fills in. Mumbo glances over at Grian, confused. 

“Iskall, who is this? I found him stuck in our retrieval system. Who-where did you even come from?” Mumbo questions, a little frazzled. Streaks of redstone stain his skin, and even his mustache is unkempt, sticking in a thousand different directions. The redstone was already broken before the stranger was stuck in it, but adding a whole body only made it break down further. 

“This is our new partner for Sahara. Red here can supply us with all the prismarine we could ever want.” 

“We can corner the market on sea lanterns. Concorp won’t know what hit’em.” Grian adds. 

“But...how? Iskall, you destroyed your guardian farm.” Mumbo still isn’t sure what’s happening, who this person is. 

“Red here actually lives in the ocean. She convinced me to shut down my farm. She can gather more resources faster than it could anyway.” 

Red isn’t very sure about the other two humans. Iskall seems to be trustworthy, and while Red has met Grian briefly before, he ran away before she could get a good read on him. The last one, Mumbo, she isn’t too sure of. He was quite unhappy when he found her in the pipes, and he doesn’t seem to believe this change in strategy. Maybe she can lighten the mood a bit. She flutters her fins, splashing a bit of water around. “Let’s just say I’m drawn to guardians like a fish to water.” 

Grian busts out laughing, nearly falling from his massive chair. Mumbo can’t help but chuckle as well, and the tension in the air eases. “However, that means nothing. Xisuma still has his guardian farm up and running. I saw him there just the other day.” 

Red frowns. He knows exactly who that is, though he never really bothered with asking the masked man’s name. He falls asleep there all the time, deaf to the death right next to him. As many times as Red tries to tear apart his massacre machine, he just rebuilds it. He can’t tell if he’s oblivious, or doing it to ruffle his fins. 

“That’s why I’m glad to see Red decided to stop by.” Iskall wipes up some of the water that was splashed around. Between his fellow architechs and Red, he’s not sure why he bothers. 

“It’s a good thing you ended up here and not Area 77. Doc may have locked you up.” Grian notes. Red feels a bit of fear, as she was really just poking around everywhere in the area until she got stuck. She has no clue where this ‘Area 77’ is, but it sounds frightening. 

“Or with ConCorp. They don’t have much better a reputation.” Mumbo adds. What is with these humans and their backwards practices?

“Back to business, guys.” Iskall claps his hands, bringing the three to his attention. “I spoke to Xisuma, explained to him what Red told me, and he agreed to decommission his farm in return for getting some of the resources that Red would give me.” Red feels such relief to hear this news. That everything could be ended without violence. “However, he never mentioned when or how he plans to take it down.” A mischievous grin appears on Iskall’s face. His eyes narrow, glancing at his fellow Architechs.

Red looks around, and sees a similar expression on Grian’s face followed by a giddy laugh. Mumbo realizes what’s happening, and his frazzled expression morphs to excitement. Somehow, his mustache seems to comb out like it’s controlled by his emotions. Then realization clicks in Red’s mind, and a chaotic feeling surges up from her core to her lips. She grins devilishly, and she folds her hands together. All the times she’s tried to get at this Xisuma character, she’ll finally have her way. 

“Problem is, his farm is out in the ocean.” Grian notes. “And while I’m sure Red here would have no trouble, I don’t know how the rest of us would be able to do much.” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that my dude. I’ve already contacted another hermit to aid. Her ship and her crew will help us immensely.” Upon hearing her being spoken of, the green-skinned hermit saunters into the meeting room. She already carries her sword, giving it a flourish before resting on her shoulder. Patches of grey stitch to where her zombified form didn’t stop from decaying. Her bright orange hair contrasts with the seafoam green, much like Red’s own orange tips. 

“Let’s go make trouble. The Juggernaut is waiting.” The other four turn, looking past the concrete mixer. The ship’s sails are up, colorful sheets wrapped and waiting to be released. From Sahara, Red can see crewmates setting up cannons and swabbing the deck. 

“Race you to the boat!” Red shouts, jumping from the open window and clambering down the walls towards the sea. 

“Hey, that’s not fair! He’s part fish!” Grian pushes Mumbo out of the way, taking off on elytran wings towards the pirate ship, followed closely by Iskall. Cleo raises her sword and charges out, and finally Mumbo gathers his redstone supplies and takes off.