#the way that grian's voice faded out when he first screamed.

[levitanias]

most recent scar/grian hermitcraft uploads am i right

[silverechosandblankmasks]

Everyone on, or well, from Evo has feathers on their ears.

It's expected for Grian and Jimmy as bird Hybrids, Avians, but the others definitely get looks once people realize they all have them despite the lack of Avian traits, it's easy to realize it's a weird thing when they all have them despite all odds of genetics or luck.

Nobody will ever know the panic the members went through, both the ones the reconnected and the ones that scattered to the winds, when they first came in before they got Out. That the feathered ears (and for some, in other places too), actually predated Jimmy and Grian presenting as Avians so many years later.

That the others, before Grian knew they were alive, before they knew Grian was alive, held with bated breath until Pearl presented into a Moth hybrid of all things. So it wasn't a premonition of a change to come…. But then they didn't really know what it was then, other than a reminder, or maybe just a marker of what they all went through.

Later, when Grian is informed his players have been found and alive and there's tears and fights and screaming and hugs that bruise, they will notice the wings, and he will notice their lack of and the feathers that are still there, and they will talk, but nothing will come of it.

And if later, during SMP's and Life series, if someone questions their feathers, they will all exchange secretive, searching looks with each other before saying It's nothing important.

If you ask Grian he'll look off into the distance with a plastic smile and say it was a side effect of something from a while back, and will change the conversation, but if you're observant you will see the sliver of guilt that haunts him.

If you ask Jimmy he'll clam up and stutter but will just say he doesn't know, that he's an avian, but maybe it's a confidence of genetics, who knew really? Before distracting and distancing himself from the topic.

If you ask Pearl she'll stop and stare with suddenly cold eyes and say with a polite, smiling voice that's all teeth that says that's sort of rude, isn't it? Her tone will be harsh or teasing depending on who asks and how much she cares about them, but her eyes will still be cold, and her words pointed that she will not be answering.

If you ask Martyn, he'll freeze for just a second before his face darkens, even if his tone is light or aloof. He'll say that's a story for a different day (one that will never come) but say that there was an… incident awhile back, and it left its mark, and that's it really.

If you ask BigB, he'll spout something different every time. His face never wavers, his smile never dips, his tone light and teasing, his words are confusing and lead you in circles of the story, until later you realize nothing he said made much sense, and confused on how he seemed so truthful despite the fact he was obviously lying.

As for the other survivors of Evo, well, they disappeared into the winds the moment they got Out, and nobody makes connections with them because why would they? They have no clue they aren't just normal people who just happen to have feathers on their ears, with nobody to compare or connect to.

And the Truth? The Truth is something they will likely never tell, events and secrets kept close to their chest because they're trying to move on and the feathers, while a reminder, don't mean anything more than that to them. After all, they just grow back, so it's easier to just let the pain they cause fade.

After all, Evo left its mark in many more ways in one for the players trapped there for however long, and the feathers are honestly small potatoes compared to their other scars, both mental and physical.

If you are going to interact, please Reblog instead of Like. Likes do nothing! I appreciate it <3

[mochiwrites]

Hiii Mochi!! I wrote a little something for Songbird Blood it isn't the world's best writing but I was able to make this at least 1k words so I'm proud of it.

I'm not too good at writing but I'm hoping that making short little stories about something I already enjoy will help!

An extra thing you should know is that Mumbo 100% purrs if you pet him for long enough, if Mumbo can turn into a cat (at least Drum and Grum can so why not Mumbo) then he would purr in cat form which I think should correlate to human form as well

--

As Mumbo walked back into the manor after a long and tedious day of listening to Doc ramble about the current murderer running around the city all he wanted to do was go home and calm his nerves, Mumbo knew the best way to do that was finishing his latest redstone project. Sure most people found redstone a time-consuming and repetitive process. Still, it put his overworking mind to rest allowing his fingers to set to auto-pilot as he figured out the calculations needed to push the piston in or out. It wasn't like he was a “person” in the first place; he was a vampire, A monster, created to destroy the lives of others.

Mumbo's ears twitched as he realized something was off, he could hear a soft-spoken voice coming from deep in the manor, Mumbo sharpened his senses picking up on the quiet voice till it faded,  it sounded slightly like- snores? There were three people asleep in his manor. He could recall two of them being Grum and Drum but who was the last one? Now that he thinks about it the voice he heard moments ago sounded oddly familiar, it sounded like Grian’s, but why was he here Mumbo doesn't recall inviting the pesky human over while he was away.

Mumbo silently made his way down the corridor toward the manor's library where the noises were coming from, the sounds were becoming louder as each step drew him closer, Mumbo listened closely as he reached towards the wooden door, he slowly put his hand against the doorknob then slowly and silently opened the door.

Now Mumbo was a smart man, it was common knowledge to most citizens around the city, he was logical and quick-minded, and yet what he laid his eyes upon as he peeked into the room left him in even more shambles than he was when he first walked into the manor. 

Grian was lying down on the couch cushion with Drum curled around his hip. Drum had a warm comforting smile on his face even though he was asleep. Mumbo's eyes slowly trailed down to what Grian was petting, there was a black cat on his waist Grian's hand was brushing along its fur gently as if one wrong brush could bring this all tumbling down. Mumbo recognized the cat to be Grum his ears flicked as Mumbo moved his eyes back to Grian staring right back at him 

“Hi.��� 

“Er, hello Grian. Mind explaining what you are doing here?”

Grian seemed completely unphased about what Mumbo said because all Grian did was put a finger to his mouth and made a quiet “sh” noise then repeatedly motioned his fingers back and forth until Mumbo sat beside him.

Mumbo watched Grian try and scoot his feet so they were on either side of him.

“Grian… uh. Mind explaining what you are doing there- WOAH!” Mumbo screeched out as he was grabbed and shifted till Grian decided his position was good enough.

“Mumbo be quiet you are gonna wake up the Littles with all that screaming. I need you to take Grum and put him on your chest because you kinda took his spot.” Grian sleepy mumbled as he handed the sleeping cat over. 

Mumbo took Grum from Grian’s hands and sat him back down on his own chest as he looked up he noticed that Grian somehow took out his hair and began brushing it out with his hands. Mumbo found himself leaning into the touch. When was the last time someone treated him with this much kindness? 

Was it Scar? 

Maybe even Iskall?

No, he promised himself he wouldn't think about either of their names anymore. 

By the time Mumbo found himself zoning back into reality he found that there was a slight purring noise coming from something, someone. 

Mumbo was the one making the noise. It's been far too long since he last had, he forgot about this part of him, the part that makes him remember the tender hands in his hair, Scar Grian hands.

Mumbo looks up expecting to find Grian still awake, instead he finds him asleep, a hand still slowly running back and forth through his hair.

He could  feel Grian's heart beating, the rise and fall of his chest, the soft breathing that faintly hits Mumbo. Mumbo found himself so transfixed by it.

He tried to follow Grian's breathing.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

Mumbo found himself thinking about a time  long ago when thunder and lighting were the things that scared him, back when his name was Oliver,  back when his mother would hold him after he scraped his knee. 

He will never be able to forget the raw emotions of anger and despair on her face as he was chased away from everything he once knew.

Today wasn't the day to be pitiful. He was surrounded by the people he cares about, Mumbo should enjoy this while it lasts because it wouldn't last forever. He knew that, it never did.

—

The weight was gone from mumbo stomach, Grum must have moved Mumbo thought as he slowly lifted his head, he must have fallen asleep. Mumbo moved his head to peek at the side to look at the closed curtains.

It must be dark by now there is no light reflecting from the curtains.

Mumbo shifted so he was surrounded by more of the warmth surrounding him, shoving his head into the warmth and wrapping his hands around it.

A light chuckle came out of the warmth, Mumbo looked up. There he was, glowing in the dim light, Grian. Warmth rushed through Mumbo’s face when he looked at Grian’s smile.

How could he sit there and look so pretty, the moppy bedhead hair, the slight tint of sleepiness in his eyes, the lop-sighted smile point detected towards him? Why did it have to be Scar?

Grian.

Never Scar.

He left.

Only Grian now.

Scar hurt his Grian.

But Scar once was his.

No not his, they don't belong to me.

Mumbo shoved his head back into Grian’s lower stomach, tightening His hold on Grian waist, using his thumb to unconsciously rub along his side.

Maybe, just maybe Grian will be up for more of this in the future. That was Mumbo's last thought before sleep overcame him for the second time.

I hope you like it and I hope I got all the bits that needed to be fixed! I might write more of these because I got an idea about cat form Mumbo and Scar cuddling and I think that would be adorable 😊 ‼️‼️

Also, have a good day/night Mochi!

WAHHHHHH ANON IM SOBBING AT YOU ????

I'm also holding mumbo SO gentle oh my god. man who gave this sad vampire trauma <- the culprit. I'm so fond of this though uwawawawa. I LOVE seeing how others have interpreted mumbo and scar's dynamic based on the little crumbs I've dropped so far hehe, it's really cool !!!!

ueueue thank you for writing this anon <3333 I love it :D

[frozenjokes]

Signing Off - 4

Prev/Next

MUMBO

All of his friends were here.

Grian seemed to melt out of the pouring rain as he entered the crew’s quarters, like the water was an integral part of his form now. It took another moment for Impulse and Pearl to enter, but only because Pearl had to be dragged away screaming from the crime scene.

Mumbo had been surprised when Grian couldn’t hear Impulse at first, but he supposed it made some sense. Grian still had a chance. He, on the other hand, was already on his way out. It was just a matter of waiting for Scar to end it. Or maybe time would get him first.

“I’m sorry, Mumbo,” Grian’s voice cracked through Mumbo’s train of thought. His ghostly form sat next to his chest, moistening the blankets.

‘It’s okay,’ the words he couldn’t say. Could he get the point across better by keeping his eyes open, or closing them? He wasn’t sure. The heaviness of his eyelids led him to choose the latter. He wasn’t sure why he had hung on so long. Was it for Grian? Hope he could be saved? Just wanting to see it all through?

“You did your best, Grian. And you did it your way. That was brave. I just hope it wasn’t as painful as it looked,” Impulse said, and when Mumbo could stand to open his eyes again, he saw Impulse and Pearl sitting beside Grian on his bedside.

Grian shook his head. Mumbo closed his eyes.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Pearl murmured.

“No you’re not, Pearl! You’re dead! We’re all dead!” Grian lit up suddenly, eyes burning, “We can’t do anything .”

“I don’t care! None of you deserved what happened to you, and someone has to stop him.”

“And how do you expect to do that?”

“Cut it out! Both of you!” Impulse cut in, forcibly moving to sit between them, “I know this sucks, but fighting isn’t going to change anything. Grian, you’re getting water all over the bed, and none of us can get Mumbo a new blanket, so let’s all sit tight and just try and make sure he’s comfortable, alright?”

Grian blinked, startling into a floating position above the bed, “Water? Augh! Why am I dripping? None of you drip!”

“I drip a little bit! Blood though,” Impulse offered, smiling to ease the tension.

“I do not drip. I don’t know what your problems are,” Pearl sighed, laying down at the bottom of the bed and giving into a smile. “Sorry, Mumbo.”

“You think he can hear us?” Grian asked, floating over top of him, and Mumbo felt the presence of Grian’s face way too close to his. He didn’t need to see to know Grian’s expression; he always looked so silly when he was curious about something.

Mumbo smiled, or at least, he did in spirit. It was hard to tell if he was actually doing anything physical. Even the voices of his ghostly friends were starting to fade. That was okay. He was ready now.

[owtenen]

Ranching (pt 2)

Tango and Jimmy start to get settled, but things take a turn

(pt 1 technically HERE) (AO3)

TWs: depictions of anxiety/anxiety attack symptoms and blood. know and be responsible for your triggers. (nothing extremely graphic)

————

Jimmy hates how this is making him feel.

He feels stupid. He feels ridiculous. He feels upset. The worst part though? The worst part is that he knows Tango can feel all of it too.

He knows he can feel Jimmy’s heart start to race in anxiety when he trips over a loose patch of dirt. He knows he can feel the painful pinpricks behind his eyes as he holds tears back. He knows he can feel the grinding of his teeth as he tries to stand up straight in front of his friends.

He knows Tango can feel all of it, not just because he can feel all of what Tango is feeling, but he can also see the way Tango is looking at him.

It’s with pity. It took a couple hours to figure out what the look meant, but once he did, he wouldn’t dare look at Tango in the eyes again.

Because of course his soulmate would think he was an idiot. It was what everyone else thought. Of course he would burden this random person with all of the weight of being his partner.

The idiot, the clumsy one, the curse. He had heard it all from everyone else, and whenever he looked at Tango’s face for too long when he had that look, it made all those words come flooding back.

Tango hadn’t really talked since they first met, and Jimmy just knew it was because he was mad. Jimmy knew that it was because Tango already was regretting being in this game. Tango wished he was with someone else, Jimmy could see it in his eyes. Those red eyes that were so soft with pity. Those eyes that were hard with frustration.

Jimmy felt sick again, and he went behind a tree to do some breathing exercises. He saw Tango out of the corner of his eye watch him go, and Jimmy was thankful that he didn’t catch those eyes as he went off.

He took a deep breath in, pushing his palm into his chest to ease the tension there. When he breathed out, he tried to focus all of the air into one single spot, going and going until his eyes clouded and there was nothing left. He started absently pressing his fingernails into his palms and chewing on the inside of his mouth. Maybe he could talk to Grian about a way to get rid of the bond. Maybe he could beg and beg for Grian to let him leave the game and keep Tango in. Maybe-

“Jimmy?”

Jimmy’s heart stopped beating completely, he could tell because there was only one heartbeat in his chest. He screwed his eyes tighter shut, maybe if he didn’t say anything, the voice would go away.

After a few moments, the voice called out again with a hint of laughter, “I didn’t know we were playing hide and seek.”

Tango’s voice was low and rumbly, like gravel cascading across exposed rock. Jimmy could tell he was close, but that didn’t stop him from staying silent.

Eventually, the foot steps of his soulmate stopped, and he felt soft, warm breath on his face and an unnaturally warm body next to his. “Found ya.” He flinched at the sound, but opened one of his eyes to see Tango staring back at him, those red eyes staring at him in the same horrible way they always did.

Idiot. Stupid. Curse

“H-“ his voice cracked, he cringed. “Hi, Tango.”

“Hey there.” It was awkward, and Jimmy wanted to melt into the tree he was leaning on. “Are you….” Tango’s question faded off into nothing as his eyes fell onto Jimmy’s hands. Jimmy followed his gaze and felt sick all over again.

His fingernails were covered in blood, and when Jimmy opened his hands, he saw small half moons indented into his palms. Had he really been clutching that hard? He glanced at Tango’s hands, and watched with a growing sense of embarrassment as he rubbed his own palms with his thumbs. Tango could feel Jimmy’s pain. Jimmy had hurt Tango.

“I-“ Jimmy felt the panic rise up. Tango was going to yell at him. He was going to scream. Demand that he get over himself and figure out a way to break their bond. “I’m so sorry Tango, I didn’t realize what I was doing-“

“Hey.” Tango’s voice was calm but firm, and it shut Jimmy up right away. “It’s alright. Here.” He pulled out a small cloth from his vest pocket, extending it to Jimmy. “It’s wet so…. Tango shrugged, “Should be able to clean it off.”

Jimmy hesitantly took the wet cloth, “Why do you have this?”

Tango shrugged again, “It’s for when I’m working. I might uh….” He cracked a small smile. “Sometimes I get a little too excited and set things on fire.”

Jimmy looked away from Tango’s face and focused on his hands, gently wiping away the blood and dirt. He hissed in pain when he pressed to hard, and he could feel Tango bite his tongue too.

“I’m… so sorry.” It was all Jimmy could say. Tango had to know how sorry he was about everything.

“For what?” Jimmy went to respond but the words never came. There was too much to be sorry for.”

“For having to deal with this.” He raised his hands a little, but he hoped Tango knew what he meant.

Tango just shook his head, “It’s cool, man. Do you need anything?” He looked around the area that they were at, as if this was just a normal conversation.

How was Tango so calm about this? Was he just pretending? Jimmy felt confused, “Uh… no, sorry.” He handed back Tango’s cloth awkwardly, and felt a jolt of warmth when they touched hands. “We can go back.”

Tango just smiled and took the cloth, putting it right back in the same pocket he had it before. “Alright. I made a trench for the water to go through so all we have to do if plant the seeds.”

He raised his hand and only stopped for a second when Jimmy flinched. He was going to hit him. He was going to finally get out all his anger. He was going to-

He was just going to pat Jimmy’s shoulder, and he watched with wide eyes as Tango just winked and walked away, leaving Jimmy alone again against the tree, thoughts racing a million miles an hour.

~

Tango focused really hard on his breathing as he walked away. Jimmy’s heart rate was sky high, and he knew if Jimmy could feel his heart beat fast too, it would just make things worse.

He rubbed his thumbs over his palms again, and a shiver went up his spine as he remembered the horrified look on Jimmy’s face when he realized what he had done.

It had made Tango want to wrap him in his arms and rub his back. It made him want to run hands through his wings and tell him everything would be alright.

“I’m back.” Jimmy’s voice sounded defeated, and his posture seemed to say the same.

Tango smiled at him, hoping that it would bring his soulmate some comfort. If only Jimmy would look at him…

“Here, catch!” Tango through a pack of seeds at Jimmy and watched as he clumsily caught it with his forearms. “Nicely done.” He scooted to the side, hoping he would get the message and come over.

Jimmy just stood there for a moment, and after the gears behind his eyes slowed down, he just squatted where he was sitting and began planting, away from Tango and shut off.

Why wasn’t Jimmy talking to him? He had been so normal about their situation, their relationship. While Tango himself didn’t have anxiety, his friends did, and back on Hermitcraft he had learned what helped them.

For Impulse, it would be planning and testing. Whenever Impulse got stressed about a build, or a piece of wiring that he couldn’t quite figure out, Tango would sit down with him and talk through a plan. They would test and strategize, and eventually Impulse’s anxiety would go away because he was no longer as in the dark as he once was.

But that strategy wasn’t working with Jimmy. Every time he tried to plan something with his soulmate, Jimmy’s shoulders would drop, and he would do what he was told without any hesitation or additions.

He thought about Zedaph’s anxiety. How the sheep-hybrid would just ask Tango to keep moving forward. Zed would get more anxious when Tango stopped to talk about it, and it really helped his friend when he just pretended like nothing was wrong.

But Jimmy seemed to get more upset and confused when Tango did that. When he clapped his shoulder, it took all of Tango’s strength not to pull away when the man flinched.

What did Jimmy need? He looked up to watch Jimmy planting the grass, the man was biting his lip, and he was laser focused on the task he was trying to accomplish. Tango’s eyes moved from his face to his hands and back again, making a trail around his arms and shoulders eventually landing on his wings.

“You’re wings are so cool.” Tango didn’t even mean to say it out loud.

Jimmy looked up at Tango and then looked back down again, his cheeks quickly turning bright red. Despite that, Jimmy’s wings seemed to involuntarily puff out behind him, and Tango smiled as the wind blew through the feathers. “Thank you….”

“Can you fly?” Tango knew about avian-hybrids from being on Hermitcraft, but he has never actually seen one fly during the death games.

He saw Jimmy’s soft smile turn into a frown, “Not here, they clipped me.” Jimmy’s right wing slowly extended farther out, and Tango’s eyes landed on the large, yet cut, primary feathers. Tango didn’t know much, but he felt a little bit of anger pool in his stomach, “Who would do that?”

“Grian… he felt it was unfair if we could fly.” Jimmy retracted his wings, and Tango focused on the ground again.

“Skizz never said anything about clipping….”

Jimmy sat back, and Tango watched as he looked up longingly at the sky, “Skizz has different wings, so they can’t be clipped.” Tango gave Jimmy a confused look, and Jimmy took a moment to think, “So there’s different types of wings, avian wings- the ones that Grian and I have- are like bird wings. They can be clipped, they can get messy, they can be-“ Jimmy shivered before he finished, “removed.”

Tango just nodded, this was the first time he had heard his soulmate speak for more than a few second, and he was soaking up every second of it.

“But there’s other people who have different types of wings, like Skizz for example has angel wings, so they can’t really be tampered with. Angel-winged Avians usually are part of a larger group and choose not to fly or use their wings for harmful purposes.” Tango had never asked Skizz why he didn’t fly, but he suspected that Jimmy was right. “There’s other types too, like Vex wings and stuff, but…. yeah.”

Tango was fully leaning forward on his knees, “And why are yours yellow?”

Jimmy frowned again, pushing his fingers into the dirt, “They are canary wings. I got them after third life.” Tango made a confused look again, remembering back to the first games. He realized that Jimmy didn’t have wings during that game, not that he had thought anything of it.

“Well..” Tango coughed, standing up and walking over to Jimmy. “I think they’re beautiful.”

He watched with a smile as Jimmy went bright red again and started stammering, trying to get out a word. He held out his hand and helped him up off the ground, “What if we built a ranch?”

“A ranch?”

“Yeah! We could have all the animals and never have to worry about food.”

Jimmy pressed his lips together and thought about it. After a moment, he looked back over to Tango and gave him a small smile, “Alright, Tango. I think that’s a great idea.”

—————

It’s giving Problem of Etho vibes. maybe this is a spin-off. giving tango and jimmy trauma and backstory to maybe resolve it later oops !

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Human Again

Summary: Mumbo wants to become human again, no matter the cost.

AKA Vaunna finally watched Mumbo and Grian's episodes and got very much inspired for ANGST :3

...

Grian lets out a yelp as he falls into a glass box. On the other side, he can see the friend who just dumped him in here staring back at him. “Hello, Grian.”

“Mumbo, what is this?!” snaps Grian, hitting the glass with his fist. “Let me out!”

Mumbo’s facial expression and voice are steady. “I can’t do that. Yesterday, you signed something for me. Remember that?”

“I signed- Yeah, I signed your stupid tree thing.”

“Look on page 20.”

Frowning, Grian rifles through his copy of the book until he reaches a page with a worrying paragraph of small print. “Page-?! MUMBO!”

“I’m sorry!” Mumbo yelps. “You signed it without reading the fine print!”

“I THOUGHT I WAS JUST GIVING YOU FEEDBACK ON YOUR TREES!”

“You should’ve been suspicious when I asked you to sign your feedback “so I would know it was from the Tree Lord”! Come ON, Grian!”

Grian angrily tosses the book across the box. “Oh, so this is MY fault?! Explain yourself, Mumbo! Why are you not human? I thought you were just cosplaying a potato.”

“Cosplaying a-?!” Mumbo breaks off. “Grian, LOOK at me!”

As Grian opens his mouth to retort, Mumbo finally removes his mask. Grian takes an involuntary step back, his breath catching in his throat, as he registers Mumbo’s appearance. “Wh- What on EARTH?! Why are you this weird pig hybrid thing?!”

“I don’t KNOW!” Mumbo cries, covering his pig snout with his arm. “I ate pork for the first time and I turned into this! And when I ate a carrot, I turned into a horrible carrot monster! I need to be human again so this doesn’t happen anymore, Grian! You can’t even look at me!”

Grian feels bad for averting his gaze now. “So you’re harvesting my soul to become human again?”

“I… Well, I…” Mumbo takes in a deep but shaky breath. “I decided to give you a choice.”

“A choice?” repeats Grian with another frown.

“A choice of two buttons. One will kill me and let you go free, and the other will give your soul over to me, killing you in the process.”

Grian glances to his left and sees a button labelled “ESCAPE”. The button on his right is labelled “GIVE SOUL”. “What kind of a choice is this?” demands Grian.

Mumbo hangs his head. “A choice I never wanted anyone to have to make.”

When Mumbo looks back up, he sees Grian standing in the shallow hole in front of the button he’s picked.

And it makes Mumbo’s heart sink.

“Y-You… You’re picking…?”

“I’m sorry, Mumbo,” Grian says quietly. “We can find another way to help you, I just- I can’t give you my soul. I just can’t.”

Finally, Mumbo looks away. “...get it over with, then.”

Grian presses the button. Immediately, both of them drop through the floor, with Mumbo landing safely and Grian dropping into a water stream leading to a horrific-looking chamber.

“You LIED to me!” snarls Grian, scrabbling at the wall for a handhold to save himself. “Both buttons did the same thing, didn’t they!?”

“You were going to kill me!”

“YOU’RE going to kill ME! We could have fixed this together, Mumbo! You didn’t need to do this!”

Mumbo can’t reply. He turns away, squeezing his eyes shut against the sound of Grian’s terrified attempts to escape.

“MUMBO!” screams Grian as, despite his struggling, he drops into the chamber. “PLEASE!”

Thankfully, the end is quick.

Grian suffocated in a wall

Mumbo involuntarily gasps at the awful sound. But as he slowly turns back to the chamber, he can see Grian’s items starting to filter through the hoppers.

Now then… did it work?

As Mumbo takes a step towards the chamber, his strength suddenly drains away and he stumbles forward, leaning against the glass for support. His chest is constricting so tightly that he can hardly breathe. Gasping and choking as if he’s drowning, he stares down at his hands. The pig trotters are fading, flickering, the image of his old human hands slowly returning.

It seems to be working.

Grian comes back down the stairs to retrieve his items just in time to see Mumbo collapse.

“Mumbo!” Grian gasps, all his anger and bitterness immediately being replaced by worry.

He rushes to Mumbo’s side and carefully turns him onto his back. A quiet sigh of relief escapes him as he realises that Mumbo’s face is back to normal, back to its normal human appearance.

At least Grian didn’t die for nothing.

Mumbo lets out a soft groan, his eyelids flickering. Grian takes his hand and clasps it tightly, rubbing his friend’s shoulder with his free hand.

“You’re okay, Mumbo,” he murmurs. “You’re back.”

“I’m sorry,” Mumbo croaks back, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m so sorry. I n-never wanted to hurt you like this.”

Even though the feelings of anger and resentment towards Mumbo for what he did haven’t completely dissipated, Grian can’t help but feel sympathy for his friend. “It- It’s okay. All that matters now is you’re alright.”

But there’s distance between them now, and both of them know it. Mumbo may have killed Grian, but they both know that Grian made the choice to let Mumbo die in order to escape. What does it matter, though? Mumbo is human again and that’s all that matters, right?

...so then why does it feel like they both lost?

[jrumbots-sandals]

Okay, so I wrote a HC fanfic, because why tf not. The idea wouldn't leave my head, so now you get to deal with it.

Based on @mayflowers07’s "I can be the one you call" series. In that series, there is an established code word on the Hermitcraft server for when a prank goes too far or when a hermit is in danger: "blue creeper." When a player says this phrase, everything stops to help the hermit in need. Please go read their series--it's amazing! The premise of this fic comes from that series as well, so I take no credit for the idea, just the execution!

This is my first HC fic ever, so there's probably a lot of errors when it comes to canon. Impulse and Tango are probably OOC. Timeline is all over the place because 1. I've been watching a lot of hermits, and 2. I'm watching everything out of order. Let me know your thoughts if you like! I mostly wrote this for me, but I wanted to share it anyway.

Anyway, here goes.

The Sleep Prank

WC: 3540

Bdubs was tired. It wasn't uncommon; he was, after all, the sleep master. He had a natural ability to fall asleep as soon as the sun began to set.

Today, however, was different. Where there was usually the pleasant sleepy feeling that accompanied the end of each day, today there was frustrated exhaustion. All because of Tango and Impulse's stupid prank.

It had been going on for three days now. The prank was funny at first— a TNT explosion rigged to blow when Bdubs went to hit his bed. The first time it had happened, he had just finished clearing out most of a nearby sand biome, grabbing a large quantity for the concrete shop. At 10 pm precisely, he took out his trusty bed he travelled with, he set it on the ground and prepared for his nightly shreep sleep. When it happened, he had shrieked loudly and fallen off the bed, causing his fellow Boomers, who were hiding behind a nearby dune, to cry with laughter.

"Very FUNNY!!!!!" he had yelled in his trademark over-exaggerated voice. "Mess with ol' Bdubs while he's tryin' to sleep. You think that's FUNNY, don't you?!"

"Yes, actually," cackled Tango. "It's hilarious. Oh, your FACE…"

The laughter went on for several minutes, Bdubs pretending to be angry while the other two collapsed on each other in laughter. But Bdubs had taken the prank good-naturedly, and soon enough the other two left and he was alone again. Slightly shaken up, he picked up his things and headed to his base, ready to actually get some sleep.

The second time was still funny. Impulse and Tango had trapped his home beds to do the same thing, which didn't hurt Bdubs or any of his things, but did make him jump out of his skin. The two had clearly been expecting this, because soon after, his communicator buzzed:

ImpulseSV: TANGO IT WORKED

TangoTek: HAHAHHAHA YESSSS

TangoTek: Get some nice sleep Bdubs? >:)

Glaring at the offensive messages, he typed back:

BdoubleO100: NO >:(

BdoubleO100: YOU FOOLS SCARED ME SO BAD

BdoubleO100: You guys are the WORST

BdoubleO100: Trapping my BEAUTIFUL HOME

Bdoubleo100: I'll get you for that

Bdubs laughed as he typed out his mock rage. But it was all in good fun, both Bdubs and the Boomers knew.

Now slightly wary of the many beds he had around his base, Bdubs got up from the current bed, no real goal in mind besides getting away from the beds for a little while. It was 10:32 now. Usually, he would already be asleep, ready to skip the night and start on more building projects in the morning. Nursing a slight headache, he picked up a book from one of his many decorative bookcases and sat down away from any beds to read.

20 minutes later, eyes heavy from reading and body tired from the day, he cautiously hit a bed for the third time. Nothing happened. He sighed in relief, already starting to fade into sleep.

And then it happened again. An explosion of TNT, to his right.

"AAAAAGH!!" he screamed, again startled by the prank. This time, he heard a dispenser fire, and suddenly he had a piece of paper in his hand:

GOTCHA!!!!!! — your fellow boomers :)

With a stab of annoyance, he crumpled up the paper and huffed downstairs. Grabbing some rockets and a few blocks of wool, Bdubs took off into the night, heading...somewhere. He didn't know where he was going, besides away, away from his base and the stupid bed prank.

He touched down a few hundred blocks away from his base, finding a decently-sized patch of grass sheltered from the outside by the overhang of a small cliff. He spread out the wool and placed a few torches for safety. Without a true bed, the game's code wouldn't let him instantly sleep and skip the night like usual, but he could still sleep the old-fashioned way. Though not as substantial in length or quality, he would still get some rest, ready in the morning to dismantle all the stupid bed traps around his base and then get some real work done.

Sighing quietly, he laid down, closing his eyes and falling into an uneasy rest. It only lasted half an hour or so, just long enough for Tango and Impulse to find him and set off some more TNT. He woke up in a panic at the thunderous sound, disoriented.

"WHAT THE FU-"

He was interrupted by his two tormentors howling with laughter, peeking out from behind a tree not far from his sleeping spot.

"Sup Bdubs! Get some good sleep?" Tango called, smugly.

Impulse was doubled over beside him, absolutely cackling. "Yeah, you thought you could run away huh? Oh Bdubs…"

"Oh veRY FUNNY!" he tried, but his voice and face betrayed his tiredness and annoyance.

"Ha, ha, yes hilarious, now will you leave me alone?"

Tango gave him a cruel smirk. "Well why don't you try to sleep again and find out?"

His heart sank, seeing how invested the two were in this prank. They really weren't going to let him sleep.

"Please?" It was a pitiful request, free of any of the usual amusing inflection in his voice. Tango and Impulse looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Finally, Impulse spoke.

"Okay, if you can make it to tomorrow without sleeping, we'll let you off the hook. We just wanted to see how long you could go," he said, laughing.

"Yeah, Bdubs, it'll be a great challenge for you! See you in the morning then?" asked Tango.

Bdubs considered their offer. What choice did he have? He could make it through one night.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll just...read or something."

The Boomers smiled.

"We believe in you!"

"Bye Bdubs!"

They flew off into the night, leaving him to face the rest of the long night alone.

***

It was painful, but Bdubs made it through.

Grabbing his things, he took off back toward his base, thinking about the day ahead. He had some farming to do, a small shack to finish detailing, and the concrete shop to restock. Not to mention finding all the Boomer traps in his house. Then he would go to bed early and be done.

The day passed uneventfully, with no bed-related explosions, thankfully. Bdubs dug out all the blocks around the many beds around his houses, ripping out the offensive redstone wiring whenever he found some. He pocketed the TNT. It served Impulse and Tango right.

Bdubs really didn't do well without at least 8 hours of sleep. It was just how he operated. A full night of quality sleep was essential to keeping up with all the building work on the server and keeping up his happy, boisterous personality. The effects of no sleep were already wearing on him. He had been grumpy and distracted all day, trying to keep his eyes open long enough to not fall asleep on his feet. While working at the concrete shop earlier, he had dropped a block of the stuff on his foot. Swearing loudly and hopping on one foot, he slammed the door and left the building, only to find someone he really didn't want to see: Impulse.

"Hello, Impulse," said Bdubs stiffly.

"Bdubs! Get some good sleep? Oh wait!" Impulse chortled.

He restrained himself from telling Impulse just exactly what he thought of their stupid prank and no sleep challenge (some of the younger hermits were nearby, after all). Instead, he forced out a laugh and put on an overexaggerated expression of indignance.

"You and Tango, I can't believe you would mess with my sleep. Do you KNOW how hard that was? I'm-I'm gonna fall over or something!" He yawned dramatically, pretending to start falling.

Bad idea. He lost his balance for real and fell, slamming into the ground. Impulse just laughed and helped him up, unaware that he wasn't joking.

"Boomers gotta boom, Bdubs."

"Fair enough. Imma get you back though. So you better WATCH OUT!" Bdubs grinned mischievously as Impulse sprinted away in mock fear.

Once he was out of sight, Bdubs slumped over, rubbing his hip where he had fallen. This prank was really starting to take a toll on him.

The rest of the day passed fine, but Bdubs was on edge, finding himself becoming annoyed at little things— the sound of blocks scraping against each other in his inventory, the lowing of animals around the village, the rockets being fired by a passing hermit. He brushed it off, knowing he just needed sleep.

That night, he looked cautiously at his bed. Even though he had checked underneath it earlier and found nothing, the Boomers were some of the smartest redstone workers on the whole server; they could definitely hide traps Bdubs would never find. And now that they knew that disrupting his sleep would get him so riled up, they were bound to do it again, even if he had technically completed their challenge.

Sighing, he flew back to the grass patch from the night before, this time with more wool. Settling down, he tried to fall asleep and realized he couldn't. Despite being bone-tired from last night and a long day today, sleep wouldn't come. A slight panic came over him. He had never not been able to fall asleep before. Was it stress? Anxiety? Both, probably, he thought.

Sighing, he propped himself up against a nearby wall and slapped on his communicator, needing a distraction. He scrolled through the day's messages, laughing at some:

Grian: Guys mumbos AFK again

Grian: What should I do to him

Iskall85: push him in a hole and then cover his floors with ice lol

Xisumavoid: New potion building is open! Free for all my hermits :)

Stressmonster101: Are u tryin' t put me outta business?

Stressmonster101: ill get u for that X, i will

Smiling at his friends' antics, Bdubs moved to get back into bed. But he was still uneasy— something felt off. Scowling at the thought of being woken up by another explosion, he turned over and closed his eyes, trying his hardest to sleep.

Except his paranoia had been for good reason.

Because moments later, TNT went off, startling Bdubs awake. Well, not awake. He never really got to sleep, but he was getting close, and now the goddamn TNT was back.

Groaning in frustration and cursing under his breath, he sat up to look for the victory message he had come to expect. Sure enough:

ImpulseSV: WE GOT HIM AGAIN BOYS

ImpulseSV: aGAIN AAGSAJH

TangoTek: Take notes, ladies and gentlemen

ImpulseSV: Bdubs weve been waiting like an HOUR for you

TangoTek: WORTH IT

TangoTek: lol

Bdubs played along, sending a funny message back, but he was privately glad it was over the communicator and not in real life. He was pretty sure he would have straight up punched the two in the face if they had been nearby. He had done the challenge. It had been over 24 hours since he had slept. Couldn't they leave him the hell alone already?

He thought about trying to be serious with him and ask them, point-blank, to stop. Surely they would see how much they had put their friend through and end it. They weren't that cruel. Right?

Huffing in frustration, he packed up everything he had brought and trudged back to his base. If he was going to get pranked again, he may as well be comfortable at home.

Once he reached home, he threw his things down unceremoniously. Dammit. He should really be sleeping by now. Instead, he tapped his foot anxiously, trying to figure out what to do. He really didn't want to risk another bed-splosion.

He went an hour or so wandering around his base, organizing things and doing odd jobs here and there, and by then it was 11:23. But Bdubs couldn't get himself to try the bed, no matter how much his tired body screamed at him to. He wouldn't do it, not when he knew he would probably just be woken up again. So he kept finding things to do. 11:30 turned to 12 am, turned into 2:30, turned into 5:00 am, and suddenly it was light outside.

Oh. That was bad. He hadn't slept in two nights.

Closing his eyes where he stood, he swayed slightly as he clenched his jaw. Two nights. Goddammit. He realized with horror that he could feel tears beading up in his eyes. This wasn't sustainable.

He took a deep, centering breath and thought about everything he had to get through to finish this never ending day. Groaning at the thought of getting through another day, he made a decision. He would just have to talk to Impulse and Tango. This wasn't happening anymore after today.

***

So today, he was tired. And crabby. He had been awake for over 80 hours, and Bdubs was in a mood and a half because of it. He snapped at Scar during a mayoral meeting, shoulder-checked Mumbo "on accident" while passing him in the shopping district, and kicked down a particularly ugly flower in front of the Barge. He looked terrible, too, with dark bags under his eyes, uncombed hair, and wrinkled clothes he hadn't taken off in two days.

Several hermits passing through the shopping district gave him worried, questioning looks, making him even angrier. He tried to reason with Ren, who saw him and stopped to say hello, and tell him he was perfectly fine, thank you very much, but his argument was weakened by the way he tripped and nearly faceplanted over a small bump in the road.

"You really don't look good, my dude, you need to take a break or something," laughed Ren, lending him a hand to pull himself and looking at him with a mixture of amusement and concern.

"Well I'm fine, so leave me the hell alone," he snarled in response. The other man had just raised his eyebrows and walked away.

After, he decided to go to his concrete shop to calm down and try to get away from everyone. He pulled out a spare bed and looked at it longingly. Maybe the prank was truly over now? It had been a bad day, and he was so tired…a nap wouldn't hurt.

Lying down gratefully in the comfy bed, (had it always been this comfortable? surely not) he felt the familiar pull of sleep. Just as he was about to doze off, it happened again.

The godforsaken TNT went off.

Bdubs lost it.

"GODDAMMIT TANGO AND IMPULSE YOU SONS OF-"

He was interrupted by laughter from the very two he had just cursed at. They emerged from a door in the wall sneakily hidden by pistons, cackling and falling over each other.

"Oh my God, he actually fell for it-"

"I can't believe it worked-"

"No, Impulse, cause he's so predictable-"

Bdubs closed his eyes, ignoring the way it made the world spin around him, just trying to block out the incessant, annoying laughter filling his ears. He could do this, he just needed to put on a smile and pretend it was all funny-

"He can't go ONE NIGHT without a bed, the precious baby boy," wheezed Impulse.

"Widdle Bdubs is scawed of the dawk, isn't he?" mocked Tango.

He tried to block it out. It's funny, it really is, it's just a prank. Chill out, Bdubs.

"What would we do without him protecting us from all the scaaawy mobbies?"

Tears welled up in his eyes for the second time that day. He was actually afraid of the dark, deathly afraid. It wasn't just a joke to him, they didn't understand...

"Oh, I'm Bdubs, I have to sleep in a bed otherwise i'll get SCARED-"

"SHUT UP!" roared Bdubs. "SHUT UP GODDAMMIT THIS ISN'T FUNNY-"

"Oh but it IS, Bdubs," Tango wheezed, "Cause you fell for it like FIVE TIMES AHAHA-"

He couldn't do this.

"BLUE CREEPER!" he finally yelled, desperate to stop their taunts, to stop everything about the awful prank. The laughter of the other two men died down, finally quelled by the use of the code word.

"Oh shit, Bdubs, are you good?" asked Impulse.

"Yeah, man, sorry, that was the last one we set up," said Tango, shrinking back a bit.

Bdubs hated that they were so suddenly worried about him. As if they hadn't just been making fun of something very important to him, as if this was all a joke. It wasn't funny. They knew he needed sleep and that he was afraid of the dark, of the mobs-

"Bdubs? Buddy? Hey, are you alright, what's wrong?"

But he wasn't paying attention to them. Breathing heavily, he pushed past them, running somewhere, anywhere but here with the other two. He found a corner and pressed himself between the two walls, hiding there for a moment, before reaching for his communicator.

BdoubleO100 whispers to Xisumavoid: blue creeper please come please need help i cantt do it anymore

Tango and Impulse found him there, and they approached him like he was a scared animal, hands raised and eyes wide. Bdubs just hid from them, hoping that-

Teleported Xisumavoid to BdoubleO100.

Thank God, he thought, as he saw the familiar yellow armor. Because suddenly the admin was there, looking at Bdubs with deep worry and care.

"What's happened?" Xisuma asked gently, tipping Bdubs' face up to meet his eyes under the visor. He jerked away, trying to hide his face and his tears. Xisuma instead posed the question to Impulse and Tango, who were looking guilty as hell.

"We sorta played a prank on him…" Impulse said sheepishly.

"Yeah," Tango added, "we just thought it would be funny-"

"To do what?" the admin cut him off sternly.

"...To make TNT explode every time he tried to sleep."

Xisuma glanced back at Bdubs with worry in his eyes. "Why would you do that? You know how he feels about the night!"

At the mention of his fear, a sob escaped him. He slumped to the floor, exhausted. He was so tired, so angry, so embarrassed. He looked back at X, sending a plea with his eyes.

"Please, 'suma, I just...just wanna sleep."

"I know, my friend."

Xisuma left the builder on the floor and stood up to face the pranksters.

"I expect you two to take down everything you set up to explode. Then I expect you to apologize to your friend once he gets some real rest. You took it way too far." He made sure to look both of them in the eye through the tinted visor.

The other two Boomers expressed their agreement and walked out, clearly embarrassed.

An ugly part of Bdubs' mind said good, they should be embarrassed. But he could barely find the energy to be mad anymore. He just wanted to sleep.

Xisuma turned back to him and helped him off the ground. Bdubs all but collapsed into the admin, finally letting some of the tension in his body dissipate. Xisuma shifted to support his mostly dead weight, chuckling softly and giving him a gentle hug.

"Sorry...couldn't take it anymore...goddamn TNT... bullshit," he mumbled.

"Hey, it's quite alright. Let's find you a bed somewhere in my base. I'll patch the code so you can sleep in an actual bed during the daytime. Does that sound okay?"

Bdubs half-sobbed, half-laughed into Xisuma's shoulder. "Yes please. It's… been… long few days."

Teleported Bdoubleo100 to -487.00, 45.00, 1,256.00

Teleported Xisumavoid to -487.00, 45.00, 1,256.00

Once they both successfully reached Xisuma's base, the admin pulled out a bed and set it down in a small building that definitely wasn't trapped. Seeing Bdubs looking at it nervously, Xisuma dug out the blocks underneath, showing no redstone trickery. At last, Bdubs let himself fall into the bed, eyes sliding shut instantly, his body finally free of the tension of the past three days.

Xisuma gently laid a blanket over the man, ruffling his hair fondly and smiling when he moved his head to get closer to the touch. Bdubs mumbled something, trying to thank X, but it was incoherent, his brain too tired to form actual words. The last thing he heard before drifting off was...

"Goodnight, Bdubs."

[lechairpourriedegrianri]

Untitled Shulker Box Fic!

I said that I’d tag you in this so @redwinterrises

Words: 1728

Description: Seven scenes of Grian contemplating his partnership with Scar

Warnings: Descriptions of blood, injuries, and violence

Though Grian hoped his partnership with Scar would end well, deep down he knew that things could only turn out badly. Case in point, the tree issue. “If we made an iron farm, do you think we could get enough iron shovels to dig up the desert,” Scar deliberated, deep in whatever constituted thought for him as they moved towards the desert.

“I keep telling you, trying to dig up the desert is a waste of time. If we get the dark oak forest then we’ll have a monopoly. How are we even going to make an iron farm? There’s like three villagers and Impulse has them all.”

“We're smart guys! We can think of some-OH! There’s a bee over there.” Scar bounded off on a detour and Grian gritted his teeth. Scar was great, but when he was taking such a lackadaisical approach to things. having to follow his orders was unbearable. He couldn’t wait to die the first time so he could get away. Scar ran back up, “Had to kill the bee; so you think we could just steal everyone’s iron and diamonds and stuff to make shovels?”

Feeling something in him tense, Grian turned to Scar and did his best to feign calmness and control, “Scar, where on the server can you find sand?”

“The desert, obviously, the bottom of lakes and the river, and the beaches too I guess.”

“And where can you find dark oak?”

“Just the one forest but-” he trailed off when he saw the piercing stare Grian was giving him, “Okay. Forest it is.”

——

Grian stood on the edge of the sand dune, sun beating down on him as he watched Scar and Etho haggle over shoes. “Those are awfully nice shoes, Etho. Surely they’re worth some good reputation.”

Grian sighed, sick of watching Scar scam people for worthless garbage, “Don’t take him up, Etho. He’s cheating you.”

“No I’m not. You’ll get fifty whole reputation points, Etho.”

“What even are reputation points?”

“I’ll take it,” Etho kicked his shoes off and took the scrap of paper from Scar, making Grian groan in frustration.

After happily waving Etho off, Scar turned to Grian. The way the sun glinted off his scar from the creeper explosion still made it look like it was fresh and bleeding red. “Don’t interrupt my dealings,” he muttered, the shadows turning his skin a twisted grey. Grian nodded, having no intentions of doing what he was told.

——

“How do you make a tnt trap?” Back home the question would have been completely innocuous, but here, with his torn pants exposing the deep gashes on his legs from the fall, highlighted on his dead-looking skin, Scar’s words gave Grian cause for concern.

“Where are you going to use it?”

His eyes glowing with malice, Scar clenched his fist, “Dogwarts is going to pay. I’ll use the enchanter as bait and wipe them out in one quick blast.”

Immediately, images of Scar blowing himself to pieces rolled through Grian’s head. As nice as that would have been earlier, now….it was too dangerous. He had no idea which one of the others he could trust, and which could trust him. Love him or hate him, at least Scar was loyal to him. As much as he didn’t want to, Grian placed down a chest, “Give me the tnt you got.”

“Um, sure.” Scar tentatively dumped the tnt in the chest, as well as a spattering of minecart, observers, and pistons. “Are you building the trap or are you just taking this away from me?”

“I’ll….I’ll build it,” Grian shook his head, “It’s preferable to having you build it.”

“Good,” Scar placed a hand on Grian’s shoulder. It was rough, less a friendly gesture and more holding his lackey in place. “I’m glad you’re finally listening to me for once.”

——

Smoke billowed from the gates of Dogwarts, and Grian laughed. Jimmy had been stupid enough to nudge the tnt while the were disarming Grian’s trap, and and he, Skizz, and Ren himself had been turned into an ashy crater. Just the thought of it made Grian turn from giggled to unrestrained, ridiculous laughter. Scar and Ren grappled on the edge of the hill, and with a sickly crack Scar slugged Ren in the face, sending him toppling over the edge and letting him hit the ground with a thud.

Blood trickling from his forehead and a nasty scrape across his arm, Ren bellowed furiously, “You’ll pay for this, desert fiend!” before limping back to Dogwarts. Scar scampered away as well, likely to recoup in the desert. Feeling giddy, Grian turned to follow him, but Martyn grabbed him by the wrist.

“Grian, wait. I need to ask you something.”

“What is it?” Grian glanced back at Martyn, who was a mix of worried and hopeful.

“Big B and I were talking and…as the Blue Sword Boys we think we should try to rescue you from Scar. We’re going to ask Skizz to kill you so that you can get out of your deal without suspicion.”

Something in Grian churned, and a frown curled over his face, “What makes you think I want out of my deal?”

Martyn tightened his grip, “What are you talking about?”

“Right now Scar trusts me completely, and I’d rather have the most powerful wild card on the server in my palm than at my throat. So,” he broke free of Martyn’s grasp and drew his sword, “That’s,” he slashed his sword across his opponent’s knuckles, leaving a thin trail of blood, “A no.” A boot to the stomach sent Martyn tumbling backwards, and Grian ran.

——

Grian and Scar sat on a hill at a safe distance from the Crastle, deep in thought as they watched Bdubs and Cleo move about inside of their stronghold. “There has to be a way to get to them,” Scar pondered aloud, “A full attack isn’t an option, and I’d doubt they’d fall for the tnt trap again.”

“What if we trap their bubble elevator,” Grian proposed, trying to avoid eye contact with his partner.

“They don’t have a bubble elevator.”

“Then we build them a bubble elevator, act like it’s a big gift from us, and trap it to kill them when they actually use it.”

“That’s…actually pretty smart,” surprised, Scar glanced at Grian, who was looking at the tower with a calm intensity. “Let me grab the materials for it and-“

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I’m building this. You keep them busy while I get the job done.”

“You actually want to help me kill them?”

“Of course,” Grian flashed him a teethy, soulless smile.

——

Screams of pain and anger wafted in through the window of the bunker and blood stained the desert sands red. Grian sat huddled against the wall of their bunker, hand hovering over the lever to the kill switch. Almost the entire server was out there, playing capture the flag on the largest death trap the server had ever seen. A body thudded against the bunker’s iron door, and blood trickled through the crack beneath it. Blood………

Blind to Scott’s tearful screams of “Jimmy!” Grian pulled the lever.

The sound burst one of his eardrums almost immediately, and the blast caved in the wall he was leaning against, sending him flying across the room and slamming into the opposite wall, fracturing his skull and shattering the bones in his left arm. Ignoring the mind-breaking pain, Grian rolled over onto his back, listening to the sounds of panic as the final small explosions fired.

“Grian.” Ren shouted as he stumbled in through the collapsed wall. His right arm seemed to have been torn open, and his mane of hair was matted with blood and sand. An ugly crack ran through his crown. “You did this. You have to pay.”

“And he will.” Before Ren could comprehend, Martyn leapt into the bunker, driving his sword between Grian’s ribs and twisting it to double the pain. Grian’s vision blurred, taking on a yellow tint as it faded.

——

“Where are you, Scar?” Grian called softly as he stalked through the charred ruins of Dogwarts. He carried the sword of the Red King and was coated in the blood of the King’s Hand. He stopped in front of where the Renchanting building once stood and eyed it whimsically, “We did it, Scar. We made it to the end. Final two, bud.”

“I’d count that as a win-win.” Scar’s voice was weary, and Grian caught sight of him entering through the main entrance, one of the few remaining pieces of wall. An explosion had clearly taken a chunk out of his leg, and deep gashes painted his skin. Barely able to walk, he slid to the ground, leaning against an undetonated pile of tnt. “Is this the end?” He said something else that Grian couldn’t hear as he crossed the way and sat down next to his partner.

“I guess it is. We….we killed them all.”

Something in Scar chilled at the way he said it. With a trembling turn to look at Grian, he quietly asked, “So who wins?”

Grian stood up slowly, blood rushing through his head so loudly he couldn’t hear anything Scar said or what was happening around him. He held Ren’s sword carefully in his hands, admiring the etchings on them. In a slow, contemplative movement, he took the hilt and gripped it tightly. Whirling around in a single heartless move, he ran the Red King’s sword through Scar’s neck, killing him. “Me.”

Blinded by fierce, undeniable red, Grian scanned Scar’s battered corpse as it crumbled to dust. He noticed that Scar had been holding something behind his back as he died, something that he hadn’t wanted Grian to see.

As the rushing in his head faded, Grian’s hearing returned and he froze at the quiet, but all too familiar hissing he heard. Scar had had a flint and steel in his hand. He had figured out what was going to happen and set one last fire, a fatal insurance policy.

Grian laughed as the tnt detonated, obliterating him and finishing off the last life on the server. At one point, Grian had hoped that his partnership with Scar would end well, but he had known deep down that it could only end badly for them.

[votederpycausemufins]

it seems like some people were disappointed that Tubbo and Sparklez haven’t realized who each other are yet, so in this chapter.... I taunt you even more by not letting it happen! bwahahahaha!

@petrichormeraki

Dream was only half paying attention as he worked. He really only replies with yes’s and no’s and nodding along. He was glad the mask hid his surprise when he found that not all the admin powers were there and even less of the Watcher’s influence. Ranboo hasn’t been given the powers directly, but the fact that they had initially been moved by Grian in the first place was enough.

Like an infection, the powers that were linked to Dream himself and not the role of an admin spread into the fragments of energy and magic the Watcher had left behind. It was supposed to act as a label warding off those who would want to mess with those a watcher had claimed in some form or another, but it was also something Dream could use.

He froze when he recognized parts of the energy, similar to signatures he had messed with before. Ranboo said something and he tried to play it off, but he could tell the new admin suspected something. Dream started actually focusing on the conversation until Ranboo no longer seemed suspicious. 

Once again, Dream looked at the magic and realized it resembled that of Philza and his sons. That’s right, the watcher has said something about a third son that Philza lost, other than Wilbur and Tommy. It had rattled the hardcore player. And Philza was an avian just like Grian.

Dream started with something small. He might be trapped for now, but he could still do whatever he could to bring his favorite pawn back.

He paused to continue the conversation with Ranboo a bit longer before getting another idea. One wasn’t enough with him. Maybe with what little there was, he could still find a way to mess with the whole set. But before he could get far, Ranboo was starting to leave. It was fine. Two would be just enough.

Grian started feeling sick, he looked around and saw Tommy and Mumbo sleeping next to him, the bots curled up with each other in their own sleep mode. He tried moving in a way to not disturb them but his head spun. His vision went dark for a moment and the next thing he saw was the floor of his mansion getting closer. He was surprised he wasn’t dead from falling that far, everyone else was too. Everyone was trying to figure out what was going on. 

Someone pointed it out. This had all started after his family showed up. Maybe it was their fault. But someone else said that it was just the freak out of losing Tommy. It was the war, one person shouted and then more joined in. They were letting people that made war join this server, this safe place. Who would be next? Xisuma wasn’t making it safe anymore. The new server was a problem and he was a problem.

All of Grian’s eyes started looking around, some of them peering into other places on the server. He just needed to find the admin and set things right. He was still dizzy, but Grian pushed himself to his feet, talons scraping on the ground. He dragged himself towards the front door and then flew into the air. The sky started darkening and thunder rumbled before purple magic swirled around him to help bring him to his destination.

Philza stumbled, putting a hand to his head. Wilbur caught him before he could fall. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t know.” Philza managed to get out, a wave of nausea hitting him. His wings felt heavy and they unfolded, now dragging on the ground. Wilbur cursed next to him and then started talking to someone. It sounded like it was probably Techno. Philza felt weak on his feet, but for a moment the rest of his strength returned. Something in his mind was screaming that he needed to get out of there.

Wilbur called out, trying to get Philza to stop as a raven flew away to escape dangers he couldn’t see.

Crumb jumped as thunder struck and she shifted to a more humanoid form, though her hair retailed her signature calico colors. “Dat was waaay too loud!”

“Yeah, I know. My friend Fundy gets scared by lightning a lot due to him being a hybrid. I’m not sure I could deal with sensitive ears like that.” Tubbo moved a hand towards some burn scars he had. It managed to go unnoticed by Crumb, but Sparklez.

“What happened?” He asked, making Tubbo realize what he was doing. “You don’t have to say if it’s a sore subject.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” Tubbo looked down at their feet. “I just got trapped before some people killed me with firework rockets. But that was before. Instead of president, I’m Admin Tub-”

There was another sound of thunder as a bolt of lightning struck near them. Crumb and Tubbo both covered their ears while Sparklez shielded them. He blinked the spots out of his eyes, glad that his sunglasses helped with some of the blinding light. Where the lightning had struck stood a form. The captain assumed it would be a skeleton horse that spawned due to the storm, but it was much taller. Another bolt of lightning lit up the creature and Sparklez drew his sword. “What’s a harpy doing here?!”

“Harpy?” Tubbo asked before seeing the looming form of whatever was being referred to.

“A type of bird hybrid, though normally they’re smaller.. But either way, they shouldn’t be in this dimension.”

“They shouldn’t be in this dimension. Shouldn’t be in this dimension.” Sparklez’s voice echoed clearly.

“Oh my god, that’s not a fucking harpy!” Tubbo exclaimed as he started to fumble for his communicator. He needed to warn someone now.

“God, god, god!” the ‘harpy’ parroted back. Another bolt of lightning lit him up and Tubbo froze as Grian’s bright purple watcher eyes all looked down on the trio.

“We need to run!” Tubbo grabbed Sparklez and Crumb and started pulling them away. Their communicator ended up on the ground in the scramble to run and a taloned foot stepped on it, breaking it into pieces.

Tommy was stirred by his sleep from his communicator buzzing followed by rumbling thunder. He yawned with a small shiver and looked around to see Grian was gone. “Bitch coulda woken us up too.” Tommy complained before pulling out his communicator. More messages started coming in, so he scrolled up to read the first one.

<Tubbo_> Grian’s a watcher again! We need help!

<Tubbo_> We’re in thjgrknilvsfehmdb

<Iskall85> What? Mumbo was supposed to be watching him

<Hbomb94> What’s going on?

<Docm77> Nothing good.

Tommy scrolled through the messages as he shook Mumbo awake.

<FalseSymmetry> Why isn’t Xisuma responding?

<Iskall85> I’m trying to see where his comm is. <Iskall85> shit, both his and Tubbo’s are completely down.

<BdoubleO100> What are we going to do?!

When Mumbo complained about being woken up, Tommy shoved his communicator in the redstoner’s face. Reluctantly Mumbo took it and started reading and Tommy moved to wake up the bots. After a few seconds, Mumbo jumped up. “Grian’s not here!”

“Yeah, I saw! He’s wherever Tubbo is but no one knows where that is! And apparently Xisuma is fucking dead or something!”

“Oh this is very not good!”

“You think?!” Tommy manages to wake the bots up. “Last week he was worried about us, so maybe we can convince him again?”

“I don’t know, it’s a little different every time.”

“Well that’s just great!” Tommy shouted, snatching his communicator back. 

<TommyInnit> If anyone gets eyes on Grian or Tubbo, send a message this way. If we can’t at least calm Grian down, I at least want to keep Tubbo safe.

“What’s going on? Jrumbot asked, sounding concerned.

“Something’s wrong with Dad.” Mumbo answered, picking Grumbot up. “Tommy can you fly down with Jrumbot?”

Tommy shook his head. “You know I’m stronger than you. You carry Jrumbot down, I’ll take Grumbot.”

Mumbo nodded and handed Grumbot to Tommy before the two glided down from the nest room.

The captain stood, weapon drawn as Grian walked closer. They moved towards a shop that was well lit and finally he got a good look at the watcher. He did indeed look like a harpy, though corrupted by the watcher magic. 

As Sparklez kept his eye on Grian, he felt a pang of sadness as he recognized something. Though for the most part the form was staying consistent, he could see feathers shifting unnaturally, the forms of arms becoming clearer and then fading from where the wings were. He had seen this before back when Crumb was first learning how to shapeshift, not quite sure how it worked. It made his wonder how much of this the watcher was in control of.

He didn’t have much more time to dwell on that train of thought as a wing swept towards him. He swung his sword, the blade cutting into the feathers. There was a screech of pain from the Watcher and he pulled back. He seemed to be ready to attack again but paused, tilting his head. Sparklez watched, trying to read his opponent, but then had to cover his face as Grian flew into the air, making the wind whip around. Before he could recover, he felt what felt like claws against his chest. They were gone a moment later as his back was slammed against a wall.

“No! Tubbox is my friend!” He heard Crumb speak, making him look back up. Grian had grabbed a now struggling Tubbo. Crumb was holding onto Tubbo as wings swiped at her, but she shifted her form and moved around to keep from being hit. Finally Grian started flying, dragging Tubbo along as well as Crumb as she refused to let go.

“Crumb! No! Let go!” Sparklez held out his arms, hoping she would let go and he could catch her. But she didn’t and the two of them were taken away by the Watcher as purple magic teleported them away. The captain fell to his knees, just staring at the now empty space in the air.

A raven landed in front of a building of blackstone and obsidian. It shifted back to human form and hit the button, sending a signal to the warden. He traveled through the nether portals to meet with Sam. Answers came out of his mouth that he couldn’t even understand, but it seemed the warden was able to. He was guided to a platform and soon he was walking across to a prison cell with Dream standing within it.

[arts-and-drafts]

A Place Of Love

(Another excerpt fic from my Resistance Fighters AU since y'all loved the first one so much!! This time, we get a peek at the other side :)c)

-

Bdubs had a bad feeling when Scar first sat on the throne.

He shoved it down immediately, of course. Scar won! Scar was the mayor now! Thanks to Bdubs, his best friend was calling the shopping district his own. Bdubs knew Scar was going to do great things as mayor, and he was so proud of them both.

And yet. Scar had a strange look in his eyes when he sat on the diamond throne for the first time. Bdubs couldn't ignore it, though if asked, he wouldn't be able to say what was wrong, exactly.

But it was fine. Just a trick of the light, sure enough. Nothing to worry about.

Bdubs kept that lie until Scar ordered a Ravager to be set up in the HEP factory.

"Scar, wait." Bdubs said. Scar turned to him, and Bdubs froze as he was met with a steely diamond blue glare instead of the warm forest green that he had known.

"This isn't you, Scar, something is wrong with you!" Bdubs said, his throat suddenly very dry. Scar tilted his head, and Bdubs suddenly felt like a gazelle that was pinned by a lion.

"I'm eradicating the resistance, Bdubs." Scar responded. "That was the goal." His voice had become low. Bdubs swallowed nervously. He didn't know why he felt in danger, but he shoved the feeling aside.

"No it wasn't!" Bdubs exclaimed. "The goal was making the shopping district gorgeous, not--not endangering our friends!" He knew he was being too bold, speaking out of turn, but he knew this was more important than his silly role as Vice Mayor.

Bdubs stepped forward and gently took Scar's hand. It was ice beneath his calloused fingers.

"This isn't you, Scar." Bdubs reiterated. "You need a break from all this. Maybe I can get in touch with Iskall and he can arrange like--like a vacation for you on the treasure island!" He continued. "You certainly deserve it, you've been working far too hard. You need a break from the diamonds for a bit."

Scar stiffened and snatched his hand away from Bdubs' as soon as the words left his mouth. "I know what I need. You are in no place to tell me what to do." Scar spat. Bdubs blinked.

This wasn't a game anymore.

"Okay." Bdubs said, steeling his resolve. "Okay. You're done."

"What." Scar said, his voice strong and heavy as a block of iron. Bdubs ignored it.

"The diamond throne has done something to you, Scar. You have to get away from it." Bdubs explained. He reached for Scar's arm again, but Scar swiftly moved out of the way.

"The diamonds are mine. I'm the mayor." Scar hissed. His eyes glittered coldly. "I don't care." Bdubs countered. "This isn't healthy for you! Look at yourself!"

Scar didn't move, but Bdubs kept talking. He couldn't stop.

"Your eyes, Scar, how have you not noticed! You're cold and pale and angry--this--this isn't the Scar I know." Bdubs heaved in a breath, his face hot with emotion. Scar remained expressionless.

"You didn't know me, then." Scar responded. Bdubs stilled in shock. "Are you even hearing yourself?! You want to let a Ravager loose on your FRIENDS, Scar! Listen to yourself!" Bdubs pleaded. Fat tears started to roll down his cheeks without his permission, and he hurriedly scrubbed them away.

Scar had no response to Bdubs' words. "The resistance wants to take me down. I am taking them down first." He said.

Bdubs opened and closed his mouth, too shocked for words. He finally straightened to his full height. "Okay." Bdubs croaked. "Okay. Fine."

He uselessly wiped his face again and turned away from Scar. "If you aren't going to stop this, then--" Bdubs heaved a shuddering breath. "Then I will."

He left Scar's office without waiting for a response, drawing his pickaxe and making a beeline for the diamond throne.

"Bdubs!! Stop!!" Scar's thundering voice echoed behind him, but he ignored it. He drew back his pickaxe and drove the tip into the throne as far as he could.

Over and over, he feverishly hacked at the glittering chair, sending shiny bits of diamond scattering over the floor of the Town Hall that he built with Scar and Grian.

"BDUBS!!" Scar's voice came again. Bdubs had never heard him sound that angry in his entire life, and the strike of fear it sent through him made him freeze for only a moment. He quickly kept mining the throne even more vigorously, determined to free Scar from whatever spell the diamonds held him in.

His whole body went rigid as an icy blade drove straight through his back.

He numbly looked down, seeing the tip of a diamond sword sprouting from his belly, dripping crimson onto the spotless checkered floor. Blood started to cloud his white shirt from the wound, spreading outwards through the cloth in hypnotizing swirls. Scar's ragged breathing puffed against the back of his neck, the hot air quickly fading from Bdubs' senses.

Bdubs dropped his pickaxe, only vaguely hearing the metal clatter against the floor. His knees buckled under him and he sank to the floor, only barely noticing the blade being removed from his back as he fell.

His vision started to haze as he was stuck looking up at the chandelier he'd built for the Town Hall. Something warm and wet was spreading over his back, but he couldn't move to figure out what it was. Bdubs coughed involuntarily, feeling warm blood start to crawl up his throat.

It was then he heard a scream, throaty and horrified, sounding a million blocks away. He saw a shape move into his range of vision, blurry and colorful. Vague pricks of chill touched his face, complimented by warm droplets hitting his cheeks. The shape moved closer, and Bdubs saw Scar.

He was saying something, tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto Bdubs' face, but Bdubs couldn't hear him. He could only stare hazily as his vision started to fade, the last thing he saw before the world went black being forest green eyes.

END.

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 41- The Forest of Memories

Masterpost

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

The Hangman’s Playground awaits.

_________________________________________

Standing before the tall, seemingly endless copse of trees, it looks like any other forest in Lairyon. It’s not quite as tall as the Evernight Forest, or bright as the Flowerfruit fields. To someone who didn’t know any better, this was a regular forest. But no one in Lairyon would dare enter this forsaken ground. Brambles grow right up to the edge of the treeline, not a single thorn cut, not a single leaf plucked. Even the most plump, ripe, delicious fruit goes unpicked among these trees. 

But the leyline they stand over, five hermits wide and pulsing with Ren’s imagination magic infused and glowing, goes directly into the Forest of Memories. All three major leylines run into the forest, but Grian noticed on their way here that a fourth one also radiated out, this time in a westernly direction. Towards the Ashioll sea. 

No time to explore the implications of that. Not after all the training, all the resource gathering they’ve done. No, there’s no more time to waste, no more preparing they can do. Today, no matter what happens, they will find out what Magistrate Dolios is hiding. 

TFC tries to psych himself up, despite every fiber in his old bones telling him not to go in. Ever since he was a boy, almost every story he was told warned him not to enter the Hangman’s Playground. The stories never quite explain what happens within these woods, but the tales of those who dare enter only got more horrifying as he got older. 

Grian, on the other hand, walks straight through the bushes and into the forest, much to the shock and horror of everyone else. He knows the stories, true and legend, he just doesn’t care. Soon after, Etho follows in, then Tango, Joe, xB, and Jevin. One by one, following after the cheerful angel, until only TFC and Mumbo are left at the forest interface. TFC places his hand on Mumbo’s back. “I wouldn’t recommend being last, with your back to the forest and all that.” 

It’s enough to get him moving, running to catch up with Xisuma. The Forest of Memories swallows the hermits whole, trees letting in only dapples of light across the ground. The smattering and ever changing light plays tricks with the hermits’ heads, flashes of things that shouldn’t be here appearing in their eyes, sounds that don’t belong in a forest playing distantly with the wind. 

They do their best to stay directly atop the red hued leyline of dark magic, Ren every so often recasting his spell to keep from losing the trail. They pass by a herd of goldhorns, grazing in a clearing alongside a wild herd of shleep. The night sky wool wisping into the air and playing in the distorted light. Zedaph almost runs off to join the shleep, were it not for Impulse holding him by the capelet. `Turuls and Anzus flit between full crowns of trees, the latter spitting water and breathing fire as it plays. 

It was a perfectly normal forest. But between every twitter, there was a scream. Behind every dappled ray of light, there was a world long gone. The Forest of Memories is sinking it’s teeth into the hermits. 

A flash of light blinds Stress, and she’s no longer in the calming, quiet forest, hiking with her fellow hermits. The sounds of birds and the breeze replaced by a low roar of voices and lush music. The snug, warm, and durable robes of her outfit is gone, rather feeling sterile, starch silk shift across her legs. She feels so exposed in the rich, beautiful dress. And when the light fades from her eyes, she’s standing in a grandiose ballroom. Her parents’ ballroom, full of people, all wearing similar dresses and suits. All wearing the same smile.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A shrill voice Stress immediately recognizes as her mother shouts. The tight bun of brown hair, the same shade as Stress’s own, leans down and hauls her skirts up. “These shoes are peasant wear! And look at your posture!”

“But mother,” Stress whimpers. 

“Don’t talk back! You are a lady, act like it!” 

“I don’t want to be a lady! It’s borin’, mother! I don’t want to use my magic to make swan sculptures,” She waves to the side, knowing that an ice waterfowl is just nearby. Of course she knows- this is her memories. “I wanna make something grand and beautiful! Something no one has ever made!”

The ball fades for a moment, like fog in the night, and her mother has been replaced by a different face. A face she knows, though is much, much younger. But his voice betrays the illusion. “Stress, stress! Snap out of it!”

Mumbo’s face regains his mustache, matching the grownup voice of her fellow nobleman, and something cold, smooth is pressed into her hand. The talisman fights away the illusion, until the mist has dissolved in the summer sun and her true family stands before her again. Twenty something concerned faces, BDubs and Iskall helping her stay standing. “I...I was back in Milliara, in ma family’s manor.” 

Xisuma shakes his head. “You were here the whole time. It must be the forest. It’s like what Queen Erlea mentioned, the forest uses our mind against us.” 

“Such a peaceful forest,” Cleo whispers. “Yet it harbors such dangerous magic.” 

“It felt so real. I knew it was a memory, but in the moment….” Stress shakes her head. “In the moment, I was trapped as a lady again.”

She runs her fingers over the talisman, then pulls it over her head. With the help of her friends, her true family, she regains her step and they move forward. But every shimmer in sunlight, Stress’s fears only grow. 

The forest isn’t after her. Xisuma is always the logical one. He’s deduced that the forest seems to play off people’s memories, latching onto their emotions. The ghost in Addows mentioned that she only thought happy thoughts, and the Forest didn’t have control over her. So Xisuma thinks happy thoughts as well, simple and to the point. He thinks of his fellow hermits, building his beloved tower. 

He built his observation tower with Ex. And just like that, the forest has found his weak spot.  He’s not standing among the trees, but rather in front of his observation tower. And only one other person was with him. Standing, hackles raised, was his brother. 

Ex’s white hair was luminescent in the sunshine of the Ashioll sea, red cloak discarded and tucked beside the wall of fresh, unweathered, and unblemished stone. No burn marks from Tango or Impulse, or mismatched windows after Grian would throw a rock just a bit too large. No, there were only two people on Eremita. 

Not anymore. “We can’t let any random person on our island! We hardly know anything about this poet guy, he could be working for the Council!” Ex waves his hand in the general direction, where their newcomer is tapping the end of his quill against his chin. Leaving an ink stain. “This is a place to hide, for us to be free, brother. You’re too trustworthy!”

“And you’re a coward!” X’s voice rises over his mask, forged by his brother to protect him from the sunlight. “You’ve blinded yourself with your own light, and you can’t see that we’d be stronger, safer with more. We can’t be a guild with just two brothers.”

“I never wanted to be a guild.” Ex surges till the twins are nose to nose, the supernova mage’s eyes burning with the heat of a thousand stars. Xisuma’s are as dark as night. “I just wanted somewhere for us to be free, aren’t I all you need?” 

The words fall from X’s mouths, stinging as he says them this time around. He should’ve never said them, but now he’s being forced to relive this horrible moment all over again. “I don’t need you, I never needed you!” 

Xisuma finds himself on the ground, his mask knocked loose. But the sunlight wasn’t the only thing burning his eyes. Blood falls across his face, perpendicular slashes oozing red ochre, and the same dripping from the end of his brother’s staff. 

In his foolishness, blinded by the sunlight, by his brother, Xisuma fights back. He summons his magic, and hurls twin lashes of void at his brother. Knocking him over, grasping against the frozen burns across his own face. Xisuma stumbles to find his mask, ignoring the blood. “An eye for an eye. You aren’t my brother.” 

The pain feels real, the sensation of the blood running down his face, the scent of ozone in the air feels real. But Xisuma remembers that day clearly- the worst day of his life. The day he lost his brother. And he knows he wasn’t crying. 

It’s not real. Xisuma reaches up, and feels the wet stain. It doesn’t coagulate like blood, the tears that run from beneath his mask. It’s an illusion, Xisuma.

Logic is Xisuma’s strength. He wasn’t logical that day, but he is now. And he cries, for the loss of his brother, his best friend. He focuses in on those teas, something the forest can’t hide from him. He closes his eyes, feeling the guilt and sorrow. Wishing he wasn’t so cowardly to reach out and make amends. 

Distantly, he feels someone touching his arm, his hand. But it doesn’t feel like his body. A cool metal band slips around a finger, and he can finally find his way out of the illusion.

When he opens his eyes, he’s in the forest again, the illusion shattering and sparkling like starlight in the sun. Like the tiny stars his brother used to make when they were boys. Xisuma jumps out of his skin when a hand lays on his arm, feeling all too real. Joe stood next to him, other hand retreating from the moodring on Xisuma’s finger. The first newcomer to the island. He offers peace, but Xisuma can’t find it within himself. 

The forest is in his head, twisting his memories and reminding him of all his wrongs. Turning his mind against him. He can only focus on walking, follow the line of hermits before him. Wishing for the horrible thoughts to end. And wishing for his brother to be at his side. 

Xisuma isn’t the only one who lost his family. But at least his is alive. Zedaph, Impulse, and Tango tried to steel themselves in preparation of what they knew the Forest of Memories would bring up. They thought they were prepared, able to fight off the Hangman’s Playground. Both physically and mentally. Even Zed thought he’d be able to shepherd away the intrusive thoughts.

The forest is smart, however. And it goes for him before the others. Zedaph feels the heat against his face, and closes his eyes. He will not see that night. Zedaph hears the screams, of his own guild dying around him, and he hums to himself. He will not hear that night. He tries to block it out, to block out the forest, to refuse it access into his head to hurt him further. 

“Go, Zed!” The voice is so crisp, so real, it’s not just an echo of a memory. He can’t help but look up, searching for his guildleader. 

And he sees scicraft burning. He watches as the fire hurls across the sky, and ash coats the massacre in a fine layer of dust. But he realizes, experiencing this night all over again, that it’s not just ash dancing in the air. Mixed with the burning embers are the fragmented pieces of husks- those attacking the guild. Husks before he even knew dark magic existed. 

Zedaph collapses to his knees, alerting the other hermits to his vision. Impulse falls victim next, his face red as the sensation of burning is played through his head. As, in his illusion, he’s running through the fire. Calling out for the other guild members, even though he knows there’s no hope. He’s trapped in the past, forced to relive the day he lost his family. Until all he had left was Zed, Tango, and a memory. 

Tango rushes to try and retrieve a potion, liquid happiness that was brewed to perfection by Stress. He digs his hand through the bag of supplies, until his fingers close around...fabric. Tango retreats his hand, no longer digging through his backpack, but rather digging through the ashen remains of his guild. He’s holding a torn, burnt cape, stained in blood. 

In one fell swoop and one horrible shared memory, all of Team ZIT is in the clutches of the forest. It plays with their mind, their memories. Turn them on themselves, blaming themselves for the loss. Survivor’s guilt. The other hermits try to snap them out of it, placing talismans on them and forcing potions across their lips. 

It’s not until Doc takes control of Zed, and uses his friend’s magic to dispel the thoughts are they able to get ZIT in any state of relief. Doc feels horrible, but it was a necessary evil. The ZIT trio hold each other close, the thoughts lingering like mist in the morning, whispers of the forest still controlling them. 

Doc looks at the others, their faces worn thin. The sight of their friends, their family struggling has weakened them as well. The Forest of Memories will claim them all if they don’t hurry. Queen Erlea was right- no amount of preparation could prepare them for this. Doc nods his head at the bright red leyline. “The longer we’re in here, the more Hangman’s Playground will toy with us. Let’s keep moving.”

[melon-wing]

Dread Part 3

[PIRATE AU MASTERLIST] Doc had been restless for days now. He was short tempered with everyone around him and except for Ren everybody was trying not to cross paths too often with him. Every day he hoped news would reach him. He had sent more money than usual to his spy in the navy to make sure he'd find out everything he could about Grian. They should have rescued him by now. They should have found Bdubs by now. Why hadn't they? According to his informant the navy was still searching near the northern sea. And according to Doc's network of informants Bdubs was nowhere near that area. Why the hell where those idiots still searching in the wrong part of the world? If they had just saved Grian by now, Doc wouldn’t be such a mess.

Doc had been so close to giving the order to follow Bdubs. He had seen the hope in Ren’s eyes every time he had stepped out of his quarters about to change course. He had held back every time. No one was worth the lives of his crew. They were his family after all. They had always been there for him. They had been by his side through all the bad and good times when everyone else had abandoned him. He just couldn’t bear the burden of getting one of them killed, even if it meant losing Grian.

Sure, maybe their latest adventures had been only in the southern part of the sea, but that was just... just... Oh fuck, who was he trying to fool? He knew why. He wanted to be close by in case he decided to change his mind and sail straight into Bdubs’ trap. He didn’t want to endanger his friends, but a little voice had kept telling him that he should risk it. Or at least part with his crew and run in alone, try to bargain for Grian’s release if he himself stayed back as Bdub’s prisoner. He had always managed to suppress those urges, though he knew that his resolve was crumbling bit by bit every day without news of the navy rescuing Grian.

The door to his cabin flew open and Doc composed himself a little, slowly turning around to face Ren, whose face was as white as a sheet, his fist balled around a piece of fabric.

"Are there any news?", Doc's voice was strained. He had been asking that question too often lately. And he dreaded and hoped for news at the same time these days.

"Etho... Etho and False met with one of Bdubs’ men today."

Doc nodded, his lips a thin line. He should have known his crew wouldn't hold as still as he had ordered them to. He should have stopped their dangerous plans, but he had let them go on, because deep down he hoped it would help. "What did they find out?"

Ren hesitated and then held up his hand and what Doc had thought was just some old cleaning rag unfolded.

Doc’s eyes widened, his heart seemed to stop and then begin to race like crazy. No. No! This couldn’t be… But Doc would know that shirt anywhere. He'd spend so much time watching Grian…

The fabric on the back of the shirt was hanging in shreds and completely stained with blood. Doc took a step back, leaning against his desk, when he felt his legs beginning to shake. He could feel his breathing starting to become faster and he grabbed onto the desk hard, trying to calm himself. He took a deep breath, but every time his eyes travelled back to the blood, it felt like someone stabbed his heart, making it hard for him to stay composed. He knew Bdubs’ methods. He knew what the state of that shirt meant for Grian.

"Doc...? We have to-"

"No. No we don't." Doc's voice was shaking and so much higher than his usual commanding tone as he replied and he took another breath to calm himself, trying to push all his emotions down. He finally averted his eyes from the bloody shirt, knowing that looking at it would stop him from thinking rational. "We really don't. I don't want to see your clothes full of blood next, Ren. I can’t... Tell the crew to set sail. We are heading north. As far away as possible from them."

He just couldn't. He couldn't let his emotions win. No matter how much he wanted to. He was a Captain. Their Captain. He alone carried the responsibility to ensure the crew’s safety.

Ren stayed silent for a while and Doc sighed, lowering his gaze a little, not ready to face the disappointment he was sure to find on his friend’s face.

Suddenly a knife whizzed past Doc’s head, grazing his hair and cutting a few strands before burying itself into the wall behind him.

Doc's gaze snapped up and he looked at Ren furiously, his furry mirrored back at him on Ren’s face. “Now you listen, you little piece of shit-”, Doc growled out, but he was soon interrupted by Ren’s raised voice.

“No, Doc. You will listen to me. I’m gonna be blunt and talk to you not as my Captain, but as my friend.”

"Don't you already do that all the time?", Doc huffed, still annoyed.

"Doc. We will sail south. I will give the crew the order with, or without your permission. You are welcome to kick me off the ship once we rescued Grian. I know you want to protect all of us, but we don't need to be coddled. We all want you to be happy!"

"I am happy."

"Yeah... yeah you are. But you are happier when you are with him. Stop trying to pretend your feelings don't exist!"

"I..." Doc shook his head. "It's not like that."

"Stop lying to yourself. I know it, you know it. We all know it here. You love Grian. You're in love with him."

Doc’s anger faded from one second to the next, his eyes widening at Ren’s statement, all of his thoughts coming to an abrupt halt.

“What?”

Ren’s face softened as well, the anger all gone from their conversation. “Doc… You can’t tell me you never realised. You are treating nobody like him. The way you flirt with him.”

“I flirt with a lot of people!”, Doc protested. Sure, he was rather fond of Grian and enjoyed their time together. Grian was a pretty attractive guy and he wouldn’t mind having some fun with him, but in love? That was going a bit far… wasn’t it?

“Not since you met him. Every other conversation we have is about Grian. Since he’s been captured you’re falling deeper and deeper into a hole and it pains us all to see it. Doc, you are like a brother to me. All I want is for you to be happy, even if it means we are risking our lives.”

Doc couldn’t stop thinking about what Ren said. The word ‘love’ was constantly repeating in his thoughts. His gaze travelled to the fabric in Ren’s hand again and a cold realisation washed over him at the same time as dread grabbed his heart. “I love him…”

Doc paused and then pushed of the desk, a determined expression on his face as he walked up to Ren and took the shirt out of his hand, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

Doc stepped past his First Mate and out of the cabin. Everyone on the deck stopped to look at him, waiting. Doc lowered his gaze, looking at the shirt. He took a deep breath, raising his head again, pressing the bloody shirt against his chest where his heart was beating in excitement.

“Set sail! We are heading south. Prepare yourselves for a battle!”

~

Grian was awoken with a sudden start, as a bucket of water was dumped over him. The water ran down his back and it cost him a lot not to scream, as the saltwater got into the wounds. He bit down hard, forcing himself to stay completely silent until the worst of the pain passed. Slowly he turned his head a little, looking into the smiling face of one of Bdubs’ crew members. It was someone else than before, so they must be watching him in shifts. He felt like he had seen this one's face before, but he really wasn't sure anymore. This torture had been going for hours now. The sun had long set, but every time he managed to fall asleep in this uncomfortable position, still tied to the mast, kneeling on the floor, someone inflicted pain on him to wake him once more. He felt like he was losing his mind.

"Wakey, wakey, little prince. No sleeping for you on the Captain's orders. He wants you broken beyond repair before you die."

Grian managed to glare at the pirate out of tired eyes, but kept his mouth shut. He knew that talking back only meant more pain. He had given up talking back after the second hour. It made him feel like he was failing. There was a hand on his back, fingers pressing painfully into his wounds and then nails were scratching down his back. He began shaking once more but kept quiet.

"Such a pity that we have to get rid of you. You are a good fighter. You could have been part of this crew. The Captain could have broken you and build you up again into a perfect little puppet. But since you won't be... You know I never got my revenge for you making an idiot out of me in front of the Captain."

Grian almost groaned in annoyance at his luck. That's why the pirate's face had seemed vaguely familiar. It was one of the men that had attacked him when he'd been with Keralis. Or rather one of the guy that Grian beat up without even breaking into sweat.

"It's your own fault, you got yourself into this situation, really. Getting involved with our Captain's former lover... Never a good idea.", the pirate taunted and looked even more amused when Grian's eyes widened. "Oh, little boy, don't tell me you didn't know? Our Captain and your lover boy go way, way back. I'm glad he decided on Keralis in the end. That weakling Doc wouldn't have been worthy of our Captain's attention."

"Doc... He and Bdubs...", Grian repeated, his voice raspy from the amount of screaming he had done. But he just couldn’t keep it in.

"Oh so now you can speak? Gotten curious?" The moment Grian opened his mouth again, those fingernails pressed deep into one of the worse wounds and Grian screamed loudly, his body shaking even harder. "Got you there, our little songbird. But try not to be too loud. The Captain and his Mate want to sleep. You wouldn't want to disturb them now, would you? Keralis is really moody when he doesn't get enough sleep. All he has done so far will seem like gentle touches compared to that."

Grian swallowed and shut his mouth once again, not daring to risk another sound passing his lips. The pirate grinned smugly, as if he was taking Grian's silence as a challenge. "It's a pity I'm not allowed to break you too bad. That honour goes to the Captain. But what do you say about playing a little game?" The sound of fabric rustling and then Grian flinched when cold metal touched his back. The blade of the knife gently traced over his back, not pressing down deep enough to break any more skin. Still Grian's breath hitched and he tried to press himself closer to the mast, to get away from it. "I will ask you a few questions. For every wrong answer I'll leave a mark. For every answer I don't like I leave an even bigger mark. Understood?"

Grian didn't react and the pressure on the blade increased, making his heart beat faster.

“Understood?!

"Yes...", he whispered against the mast, trying to steel himself for what was about to come.

“Do you have any navy secrets that could help us?”

“Most likely not more than the guys Bdubs is paying”, Grian shot back, his expression darkening at the thought of the traitor in their midst. If he could control the search efforts for Grian he must be pretty high up the ladder.

The pirate behind him only laughed in amusement. “Well that would be true. Isn’t that lucky for you? No secrets I can torture out of you.” The pirate didn’t really sound like he thought it was a good thing. He seemed to be rather disappointed. That was, until another question came to his mind.

"What's Doc's weakness? Despite you of course."

Grian pressed his lips together. His mind flashing back to his countless battles with Doc, to all of their interactions. To the way he went feral, when one of his crew members was in serious trouble, blinded by fury. The blind spot he had when Grian attacked from a certain angle.

"He has none. You weaklings won't stand a chance against him", Grian spat out and then pressed his lips together, knowing very well what was about to come.

"Wrong answer." The knife dug into his skin at his side, blood flowing as a straight cut was made downwards. Grian pressed his teeth together almost painfully hard, but he managed to stay silent.

"What a nice game you two are playing. I also have a question..."

Grian froze when he heard Bdub's voice and steps coming closer. They must have woken him up. Oh shit, he really was in trouble now. Because while all of the pirates here were cruel, they still held back. The pirate behind Grian stepped back, but it only took about a second for the blade to appear at his back again, this time lower, right above his waistband. Before he even asked a question, Bdubs already started carving, a straight line and some curves. He chuckled darkly and then stopped for a second.

"I’ve always wondered. Tell me, Grian. How come you are alive?"

Grian turned his head, trying to look at Bdubs in confusion.

"What...?"

"Wrong answer."

The blade moved once more, another straight line and a curved, like he was tracing some pattern. Grian whimpered in pain and he hated himself for once again showing this much weakness, but he refused to shed any tears, no matter how much his body wanted to betray him.

"I... I don't know what you are talking about. I really don’t!"

Bdubs huffed, sounding almost annoyed that Grian hadn’t gotten his vague question. His free hand caressed the cuts he just made in a mockery of gentleness, smearing the blood over Grian's back. "Let me refresh your memory then. Ten years ago. On Gedwyld Island." Grian's breath hitched and he could hear the smirk in Bdubs voice now. "Ah, so you do remember. How interesting. Your name is not a funny coincidence then. I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure until now. You really did grow up there."

"Why do you know about that? How...?"

"Oh Grian, isn't it obvious? I was there. I was part of the crew that raided your island. I was standing guard outside the orphanage where we were looking for the boy."

Grian's mind flashed back to the fire and the screams, to the pirates roaming the streets, to the two pirates guarding the main entrance of the orphanage. He couldn't remember anything about them. He hadn't even been able to see their faces, so focused on trying to hide. Could one of them have been Bdubs? How else was he supposed to know about all of this?

"Funny thing you know. We found a lot of kids there, searching for our target. And one of them told us his name was Grian. Pretty black haired boy. Real hero, making sure all his little friends escaped, promising to bring us who we were looking for if we let them go. My mate put a bullet through his heart. Tell me... How did you survive that one?"

Grian froze up completely. "What?" he asked, his voice breaking and unnaturally high.

"You heard me the first time, pet", Bdubs huffed as if he was speaking to a little child, carving one more curved line into Grian's lower back. Grian sucked in air and whimpered in pain. It wasn't as bad as the constant whipping. He could suppress his screams easier, but it still hurt like hell. "How did you survive?"

Grian swallowed. His mind racing with images of that day. The pirate and Taurtis standing in that room. Hadn't the pirate said something about Taurtis being the boy they were looking for? And Taurtis had agreed to that. Grian had always wondered what that had meant and why someone had been after Taurtis.

Did that mean...?

"Answer me now, pet, and you better not be lying." The knife was resting against his skin, the threat clear in Bdubs’ voice.

"They shot my friend, not me", Grian whispered, his voice shaking as it dawned on him that he had been the one meant to die that day and not Taurtis. "He... Oh god. He pretended to be me?"

Bdubs made a thoughtful noise behind him and thankfully didn't continue carving right away. "So we got the wrong one, huh? That guy really was an idiot believing some suicidal kid. If it had been me in there, I would have asked for prove. Still, what a foolish boy, dying for someone else. Was he your boyfriend or what?"

Grian froze, his heart racing, his breathing becoming quicker. The locket against his chest was feeling heavier than it had ever done before. Bdubs behind him was silent for a few seconds and then he burst out laughing.

"Oh you poor thing. Always loosing. No wonder you are not falling into Doc's arms already, playing the strong soldier. You are scared to lose him. Well too late, pet", Bdubs said, humming to himself and then the knife was back against his skin, just resting there.

"Now tell me, Grian. Who did you piss of so much that they sent a whole pirate crew after you?"

How was Grian supposed to know that? Up until a second ago he hadn't even known that the attack had been directed at him. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to think anymore. He stayed silent for a second too long and the blade dug into his skin again, carving a straight line and two curved ones and Grian gasped, at the realisation what Bdubs was doing behind him. That gasp turned into a whimper. It wasn’t just some random pattern he had been carving.

"No... Don't do that", he pleaded, earning himself another smug chuckle from the Pirate Captain.

"Finally noticed? Took you long enough, pet. We both now I can't stop now. We are almost done after all. But depending on your answer I might make the cut a little less deep."

Grian pressed his lips together, his whole body trembling. He wanted to cry so badly, but he couldn't show more weakness then he already had. Once he gave up, he'd break. And if he was to die, he at least wanted to die in dignity. Or as much dignity as he had left right now.

"I don't know why, I swear. I didn't even know that they were supposed to kill me. I'm... I'm just an orphan. I wasn't even in the navy back then. I know nothing about...", Grian trailed off, his voice growing quiet as he almost inaudibly whispered the last words, "... my parents."

"Oh?" Bdubs sounded even more interested now and Grian wished he had just kept quiet. Bdubs being interested in something would only be more pain. "What about your parents? Were they some big names in the navy?"

Grian shook his head, remaining silent and the knife broke through his skin once more, going deeper than before. While Bdubs had been quick with his cuts before he took his time now, slowly dragging the knife along in a curvy line. Bdubs other hand was also back at his back, fingernails digging into one of his open cuts. "Tell me what you know."

Grian wanted to resist, he really did, but he was tired and his back felt like it was on fire. And what good was resisting anyways? He was about to die in a few days. His information would be useless to Bdubs and not worth being in pain over it. The voice in his head telling him to hold on was getting smaller and smaller. Resistance wouldn't help him. There was no hope left.

"I don't know my mother... But my father was a pirate. The navy tried to keep me a secret for whatever reason”, he finally replied, his voice sounding empty, even to his own ears.

The knife finally left his back and a hand was back, tracing the lines on his back. He could hear the smirk in Bdubs’ voice. "See. That wasn't so hard. Now. Do you know by any chance who your father was?"

Grian shook his head, his whole body tensing, expecting another wave of pain to hit him for being unable to answer. The pain didn't come. Bdubs bent forward, his lips close to Grian's ear, making shushing noises, while gently caressing his back.

"Shhh. It's alright, pet. You did well. I'm proud of you."

And while he had held back during the torture and through all the pain, tears were now running down his face. He suddenly felt dirty and so weak. The hand on his back moved lower to the freshly made cuts, tracing them carefully.

"My name does look really pretty on you, my little pet."

[hermits-that-craft]

Full Moon In Alpha

this is based on @target-block‘s stuck au, go check them out!

He’s more than worried, the potion that he always kept on him having disappeared from his inventory with the rest of his things. He needs that potion, though he knows he won't be able to brew it until they get that update, though the full moon is tonight. He hasn’t made any preparations, he needs to get going before night gets too close and he puts Impulse and Grian in danger.

Still, Ren stands calmly outside the small wheat farm that he made, watching as the wheat grows slowly, and the grass-like plant dances in the wind. It’s calming here, not nearly as calming as the small room under the ocean that Doc built for him, all glass and stone and safety, hiding him away from the moon and the other hermits. 

But here is as good as it can be, Ren supposes, a faint smile fluttering across his lips. Grian walks by, wood planks in his hands, humming a tune to himself that Ren recognises but doesn’t remember. It’s surprisingly fast, how many memories that end up smudged, faded over time. Friends faces, song names, words that fall on the tip of your tongue. Ren should remember Doc’s face, Xisuma’s favourite song, the soup False makes for the hippies and the area 77 boys when they get too sick to cause mischief. And he can, in theory. Words he would describe Doc’s face as appear, a few bars of notes that Xisuma taught him, the taste of mushrooms in the soup. It hurts, remembering home, though it hurts more to forget. Forgetting is painful, hard to wrap his head around, so he doesn’t. Instead, he brushes his hair absentmindedly, combing his fingers through the thick, tangled messes. It’s thicker than usual, and Ren knows that he’ll need to leave soon, before the sun sets and it’s too hard to excuse his disappearance to his fellow hippies. Before the moon comes out.

“Hey Ren!” Impulse calls, watching him from the door of their little cabin. “Are you going to come in yet? It looks like it’s going to rain, and the sun’ll set soon!”

“Uh, can I take a walk my dudes?” Ren calls back, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. Grian laughs from inside the cabin, and Ren curses himself. He should have left earlier, before Grian was back.

“Do you want to get torn apart by a zombie?” Grian asks, and Impulse grabs Ren’s shoulder, pulling him towards the building. “You know how hard night is now, you can’t go out!”

“How about tomorrow?” Impulse suggests, shoving Ren through the door. “We can all go out tomorrow morning. Find some flowers, you know?”

“There are only roses and dandelions, Impulse.” 

“I know Grian.”

“Roses hurt, Impulse.”

“I know Grian.” Impulse sighs. “Still, it’ll be nice, you know? Relaxing.”

“Sleep should do that though.” Grian yawns. “Anyone want some steak? The roof is repaired, by the way. I put some torches up there so we should have anymore creepers spawning up there.”

Impulse takes a steak off of Grian, handing it to Ren before he takes one for himself. Ren holds it in his hands, fear turning his stomach into knots. He can feel his mouth water at the smell, and his teeth sharpen painfully in his mouth, cutting into his cheeks and tongue as they grow in a space too small for them. It’s going to be a painful night, Ren knows that much. Ren turns the steak over in his hands, his nails sharpening to claws. He’s turning, earlier than normal, and fur pokes painfully under his skin. 

“Uh, Ren?” Grian’s voice is quiet, and Ren’s head snaps to the small hermit, his pupils blown. “What’s going on?”

Impulse moves in front of Grian, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. None of them would ever attack the other, but Ren looks like he isn’t there, isn’t in control. Ren snarls at the men before a scream rips from his throat, his bones breaking and elongating in painful contortions. Fur springs out from under his skin and his pupils dilate so far that his eyes are black. Grian and Impulse shout, Grian quickly building a barricade between the now wolf Ren and the two very human hippies.

“Grian.”

“Yeah?”

“Since when was Ren a werewolf?”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT IMPULSE I ONLY JOINED THIS SEASON?” Grian yells, panic written across his face. “What do we do? How do we help him?”

“What if he doesn’t want our help? He can’t tell us if we’re hurting him or helping him, how are we supposed to let him know that we want to help?” Impulse and Grian both take a deep breath in, trying to calm themselves.

“I’m going out there. Maybe all we have to do is open the door for him, so that he can get out safely?” Grian doesn’t sound sure, as though he doesn’t know if its a good idea.

“And let him get shot? Lets just give him some hugs and then head off to bed.” Impulse suggests, and Grian nods, breaking the wood blocks that are barricading them into the corner.

Ren is curled on the ground, thick, long brown fur hiding the bed underneath him. He’s huge, larger than any dog that Impulse and Grian have ever seen and the two humans coo, surprising Ren, who looks up at them, tilting his head to the side. Grian walks over to Ren, his hands out in front of him, and Ren sniffs them before his tail starts to wag uncontrollably. Impulse coos, walking over and letting Ren sniff his hands as well. Grian and Impulse grin, happy that their friend feels somewhat comfortable.

“Doggo.” Grian mumbles, his hands over his mouth. “Ren’s a doggo.”

Ren boofs loudly, and Impulse and Grian burst into laughter, losing their minds as Ren boofs again, nudging Impulse. Impulse lifts his hand up, cocking his head to the side. Ren presses his head against Impulse’s hand, and Impulse begins to scratch at the spot that his hand landed on. Grian yawns, trying to find the bed under Ren, wondering why Ren decided to sit on his bed instead of Ren’s own bed. Impulse laughs at Grian’s dilemma, and Grian sighs, deciding instead to flop against Ren. Impulse joins Grian soon after, and the three hippies fall asleep like that, dreaming peacefully for what feels like the first time since they arrived in Alpha.

[mystilotls]

Tokyo Soul AU: Chapter Three

Song: The Mind Electric

Tw: Electrocution, Main character in peril, innuendo (only one), 

Sorry I didn’t update yesterday, I was heavily unmotivated

Reblog > lIkes

Asks for the characters are open in @ask-mystis-aus (Please leave an ask :<)

Also Taurtis speaks Japanese at one point and there is the translation at the end of the story in the Keep reading cut off

“..k. .p” “Wake up.”

“Hey, Wake up!”

Taurtis groaned as he tried to analyze his surroundings with what blurred vision he had. He saw the demon from before and wasn’t sure if his eyesight returned or if the shadow demon’s features just faded into the dark abyss of its body. 

He looked down to see himself in a kneeling position surrounded by some type of ritual circle painted with what he hoped was a red hair dye, candles of different variants, and ancient language Taurtis couldn’t read for the life of him. He was sure that if Sam was here, he’d make him translate, thinking it was Japanese. 

He looked up to see Cthuhlu and Grian, look directly down at him, Cthuhlu had a facial mixture of apologetic but determined meanwhile Grian stared daggers at Taurtis.

 Just as he was able to see what the shadow demon looked like, Grian grabbed the lock of what little hair he had before bringing his face to look directly at him.

Taurtis shook as he was faced to face with someone he no longer recognizes. 

“What do you think you’re doing here?!” Grian said sternly. Taurtis stared blankly at the brit before clearing his throat.  

“Ok, to be honest with you. You were creeping me out bud and I just wanted to see why you were avoiding us...avoiding me. If it was something I did, I promise I’ll make it up to you”  Oftentimes, Taurtis thinks that talking will be the solution to all of their issues but he couldn’t hide the panic in his voice when Grian’s red eyes glared. 

“The hell are you talki- oh,” Grian let go of his hair before whispering something to Cthuhlu who just sighed and nodded.

“We have good news and bad news” Grian spoke before continuing “The good news is, you have been promoted to this shiny necklace!” Taurtis watched in confusion as Grian flashed some sort of amulet in his face before shoving it inside his jacket. Taurtis heard the shadow demon chuckle and walk into view before standing next to Grian. 

“The bad news is Inanis here, will take your place” Grian backed away before Inanis walked into view, looking at his detail before whispering something that sounded like “Not bad, Necro. We can have matching humans!” 

“And what prevents me from getting up and walking out of this circle” Just as Taurtis attempted to get up, he was stopped and pulled back to the ground. He looked down at his arms to see them in chains, similar to what this “Inanis” guy is wearing on one of his wrists. He hissed when he felt the metal cut into his flesh then he turned his head back to Grian. 

“That, and this” and with a snap of Grian’s hands, red electricity surged into Taurtis. He screamed as he was being electrified, sure he had been electrocuted before but this was much more painful. As if he was burning as well, yet he didn’t see any damage on him, only the pain. 

When Grian snapped again, the electricity stopped and Taurtis almost collapsed but the chains held him in his kneeling position. He panted and looked down, refusing to make eye contact with the demons no matter how much they yelled at him. When Grian threatened to snap again, he shot his head up, glaring at them. 

“So, do we have a deal,” Grian walked up to Taurtis, only for Taurtis to spit at him, almost hitting his eye. Inanis growled and lifted up his claw, Taurtis flinched and looked away, expecting that this was how he died. Grian waved his hand in the shadow demon’s face before he reached into his pocket and dangled the amulet from before and waved the screen. 

Taurtis felt his eyes tear up at what he just saw.

Inside the glass of the amulet, Grian was there, not this Grian, The one Taurtis knew and loved. The real Grian noticed his headphoned wearing friend and banged on the glass, screaming for him to help before the fake waved his hand, and Grian was gone from view. 

Taurtis, not caring about the chains cutting into him, lunged and screamed at them, with tears of anger and sorrow streaming down his cheeks. 

“ *Sorera no utsukushī-me wa anata no monode wa arimasen!” He shouted before gasping and going back into his kneeling position. He hates it when his native tongue slips out. 

He only speaks Japanese when he mistranslates something to spite Sam, get free snacks from Pufferfish Pete when he left his wallet at home, or when he slips up by being very emotional. It slips up when he is very angry, very sad, or just very happy. He wants the choice to hide his emotions so he likes using Japanese only on his terms. 

These freaks ruined his streak.  

Taurtis sniffled as his tears fell down on the ritual circle, hoping to at least smear it but to no avail.  

“I know we may seem useless to you, but please-” Taurtis looked back to them with tears streaming down and a pleading look. 

“Take my body all you want, but let me see him again! He was my best friend! My...world…” Taurtis said and hoped that the real Grian heard that last part. He choked out a sob before screaming. “HE AND SAM WERE MY FIRST REAL FAMILY, DON’T TAKE HIM FROM ME!” 

“Grian” looked at Cthuhlu and Inanis before Inanis reached his hand out Taurtis. 

“So it’s a deal then?” ‘Grian’ asked as Inanis’ tail swayed back and forth, Cthuhlu had his hands behind his back and stayed silent but he had a serious look. 

“Just let me see him again, I don’t care,” Taurtis said in a deadpan voice before Inanis and Grian chuckled, Cthuhlu had a small smile hidden on his face. 

“Pleasure doing business with you mortal,” Inanis chuckled before turning complete shadow and rushing into Taurtis, causing him to breathe in the foreign dust which surrounded him. He panicked and tried to hold his breath which was to no avail when it flew into his airways. When it faded away, Taurtis slumped over, panting and wheezing before coughing. 

Taurtis then slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes, they were pure white before his pupils returned, with a bright red just like Grian’s.

“You going to unchain me or what, Necro” Taurtis spoke with an unfamiliar tone. 

“I don’t know Inanis, chains are a good look for you” Grian responded and as the words left his mouth Cthuhlu howled with laughter and “Taurtis” turned bright red. He screamed a swear before Grian chuckled and unchained him. Taurtis rubbed his new wrists in pain before punching Grian in the shoulder.  

“I hate to be the third wheel and interrupt your flirting but look at your amulet, Necro” Grian brought the amulet to his face and saw the amulet change color to a purple, he waved his hand across the glass and saw the real Grian and the real Taurtis hugging each other in fear and crying. He looked away before waving his hand across again. He didn’t know if it was pity or guilt but he really didn’t want to see that. He put the amulet back on his neck before walking out of the warehouse with his arm wrapped around Taurtis. 

“Come with me, by the way, Inanis, there is this mortal that is very clingy to who you possessed but don’t worry, he was talking shit and I gave him a curse” Grian spoke but rolled his eyes when he heard his boyfriend whine

“But I wanna change my outfit!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *Translation: Those beautiful eyes are not yours

[regardingseas]

Title: Echoed Vexations (Part two)

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Rating: Teen and up audiences (violence warning)

AO3: here! (Full story at once)

•••

(PART ONE)

Beginning, summary, and warnings can be found there. Story continued under the cut.

•••

He regretted it instantly.

Catching sight of the white abyss behind Their eyes, the sanctions of his mind found themselves entangled in the monster's clutches. They weren't physically there, but he could feel them all the same-- tendrils like snakes burrowing into his brain, parasitic vermin that rooted themselves into his very core with a vice-like hold. He'd thrash, or fight, but that only ever ended in the pain spiking from a ten to an eleven, proven by the past, and again by Cub's screams of anguish as Scar barely bit back his sobs.

His thoughts echoed in his skull, looping over themselves as the Vex listened in like safe-crackers. He wanted not to think, not to have a single notion cross his mind, but an infinite number of processes scrambled through at once no matter what he tried.

Not being able to defend himself against such beings was humiliating in its own right. Rationally, he knew They were far more powerful than the average human, and a group of Them was nothing to sneeze at when they got serious. The Vex were a corrupt and cruel species who enjoyed little more than acquisitive riches and making others suffer, but as much as he was aware of that, it didn't make being beaten down by something an eighth of his size any less demeaning.

With that train of thought, Scar's auditory input from the outer world was replaced by ringing-- blood seeping out from his ears and from his nose not long after. The taste of copper was bitter on his tongue, mixing with the salt of tears and bile that had risen in his throat.

We're nothing but small, cruel, and materialistic? The concordats forget themselves so...

They will learn from this, mistakes make for better humans.

I think they've forgotten who they belong to.

He dared to think he didn't belong to Them, that he was his own, not even of his own accord, and still his air was cut off. His arms gave out next and he crumbled to the side, gagging on red and trembling as waves of pain crashed over his body. Scar gasped, but his lungs refused to fill, leaving him grasping at his throat and pleading internally.

Do you remember now?

One of Them, or maybe all of Them, had asked.

Do you remember our deal? Do you remember the emblem we burned into your skin when you agreed to join us?

I remember, he begged in his mind, I remember. I'm sorry. Please don't kill me, I'm so sorry. I belong to the Vex. I'm sorry.

Horrid laugher overtook his senses, and a feeble rush of air filled his chest before his consciousness began to fade.

You will never escape us.

They finalized, and his world went dark like the drawing of velvet curtains.

------

Back in the present, flashes of that day and many others raced through his head as if to mock his phobia of thinking itself. It was almost akin to watching his past unfold in third person, like he'd been detached from his body during the events. Bleary yet potent reenactments of metal patterns searing his flesh, of his bones shattering, of gashes and bruises and the life fading from his eyes. All the times he was made to expand their trade, slaving endlessly until his hands were stiff and immobile from overuse, but it still not being enough for Them. Annexing the rest of the industry, becoming number one, having two humans as their play things. Nothing was, or ever would be, enough for the Vex.

Scar's nails raked up his arms as he tried to feel anything other than Their coils invading his brain, doing all he could to reason with himself that they weren't real, for the logical part of him knew they weren't. His hands grasped for the brand ingrained into the flesh of his shoulder blade, fingers feverishly grazing over the risen tissue to find the divot and remind himself that the seal had been severed. His time with them was over. The symbol was broken.

"I'm- I'm safe..." he recited, "I'm away, I'm free, I'm okay…"

The words were more of a finding of his voice than a real reassurance, and Scar fumbled to pull his communicator from his pocket, aware of how much he needed to contact a proper support system. Tears blurred the screen, making the already jumbled letters more difficult to make out, but he managed to gather the necessary information.

He could call for Cub, but the man was away, and even if the notification were to alert him, such an event was likely to jump-start evocations of his own traumas.

Xisuma was available, but he didn't want to pester the already busy admin with his troubles anymore than he'd had to before. The kind man had already spent countless time and energy ensuring that they were all safe inside of the world barrier; a field in which no Vex could enter on Their own, nor abuse Their power if They were to be deliberately summoned by a rogue party. Admin magic, he was thankful for it to the nth degree, but he currently needed a real person in his presence more than anything.

Scar scanned the remaining names on his monitor. There was only one other Hermit who knew about what he'd been through, and he was practically imploring him to be around.

Grain.

There he was!

Scar would've sobbed in relief weren't he already weeping, left struggling to type out a private message to his friend.

<GoodTimeWithScar> Grian are you avaiavble?

<GoodTimeWithScar> i need your help, i'm at Mumbo's base

<GoodTimeWithScar> my base? i don't know, the monument

<Grian> sure am! whatcha need help with?

Scar's thumbs danced awkwardly above the keyboard, grappling with himself over what to say. It was always a struggle to express his troubles in the midst of panic, especially when doing so was a part of the problem. He knew he didn't have to go into depth with the other Hermit, however. That was another benefit of them being aware of one another's history; they didn't need to spill their guts in order to receive a helping hand.

<GoodTimeWithScar> i just need someone here

<GoodTimeWithScar> i can't seem to calm muself down right now

<GoodTimeWithScar> or type out messages poperbly it seems?

<GoodTimeWithScar> haha dang

<Grian> i'll be right there

<Grain> i'm at zedaph's cave, so the distance is a little further than usual, but you know i'm a fast flier

<Grain> so just hang tight, scar

<GoodTimeWithScar> i'm not going anjwhere

Scar dropped his hands to his side with a shaky breath, flinching when a sudden softness brushed against his hand. He glanced down only to see a concerned looking Jellie, the cat purring softly and nuzzling his arm. He cracked a feeble smile and reached out to pet behind her ear, her very presence providing a degree of comfort.

Much to his surprise, it truly wasn't long before the telltale beating of wings thumped through the air, Grain landing expertly in the grass and folding his feathered pinions snug behind his back.

"Scar?" he asked, cautiously approaching the other man.

Scar looked up to him, managing to raise a hand and wave as a greeting. Still wrought with trepidation, his shaking arms were scored with scratches he'd unconsciously inflicted while attempting to ground himself. Tear tracks lined his cheeks and his hair had become an unkempt mop, but he'd pulled through the worst of it.

"Oh, dude…" Grian said sympathetically, stepping over the rest of the way and crouching by his side. "It's alright, I'm here."

He nodded slow, "Thanks, Gri…"

The avian returned the nod and extended his hand, allowing Scar to take hold of it as a reminder of his security. "It's no problem. I see Jellie showed up to help, too."

"Yeah," Scar chuckled humourlessly, "She can always tell when I'm upset…"

"She's good like that," Grain confirmed, earning a well timed meow from the feline beside them.

They both let out a small laugh, Scar's being far weaker but present nonetheless.

"How about we get you away from all this noise and take care of those scratches?" Grain asked, and the other Hermit nodded again.

He helped Scar to his feet, leading him away from the distant thundering of the base's heart. They departed from the heights of the ruins, Grain ushering Scar to settle down against a tree once they were out of earshot of all the clamour.

"Let me see your arms, 'kay? I'll fix them right up."

Scar held out his scored arms after a moment of hesitation, finding them still stinging with the red drag of nails.

Grain produced a potion and gauze from his inventory, pouring the thick blue liquid onto the cotton before dabbing it across the irritated skin. A cool numbness spread over the area, and Scar relaxed at the alleviation of his symptoms. People often overlooked Mundane potions due to them having no official use, but anyone suffering from a mild ailment could tell stories of just how practical its effects could be. From soothing scrapes or minor burns, all the way to settling stomach aches or migraines, they could work little wonders. A Mundane potion for mundane problems.

"Better?" Grain asked.

"Much… thank you. Sorry for making you fly all the way over here."

"No, no, don't apologize, it's no big deal," he assured, motioning to brush off his concerns. "I needed to get out of that cave anyway. Not to bash on Zed's decorating skills, because the gadgetry is amazing, but the rest is all nonsense and greys and belch-- it was making my head spin."

Scar nodded, but couldn't help the guilt that crept into his chest, eyes darting to the side as if in anticipation for the hostility he sensibly knew would never come.

Grain smiled tenderly and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "I mean it, it's no trouble. Besides, you'd do the same for me. Geez, man, you have!"

"I guess you're right," Scar agreed, turning once more to face the winged man. It wouldn't be the first time either Hermit had coaxed the other down from a panic, for not only had Grain been there for him in the past, but vice versa as well.

Most recently, he could recall, someone had led a bundle of animals into the blond's mansion as a prank. Such a feat was usually harmless fun, as was the case with the challenges they'd created wherein a herd of chickens were set loose in the same manner. The problem, however, arose when the trickster wanted to break the chain of stunts involving birds, and instead released a colony of rabbits into the manor's grounds. It was intended to be innocuous, but to say it hadn't ended well would be making a molehill out of a mountain.

Mumbo and the baffled prankster themselves had immediately volunteered to clear the animals from the house, whereas Scar stayed with Grain at the man's starter base until the mansion was deemed clear, and he was able to find resolve. It had been a long day for them all, but Grain especially. He'd mostly adapted to seeing hares in the wilderness, but finding himself in an enclosed space with dozens of the creatures sent him spiraling. Scar had been told tales of a man named Sam; a heinous individual with ears of a rabbit, who despite the innocent appearance, caused Grain immense suffering.

He's from a chapter in my story that I'd much rather leave behind, Grian once said, I have a far better future to write now, anyway.

That last line always stuck with Scar, no matter how much time passed after he heard it. There were brighter eras ahead, they just had to move forward and stick around to see them. In the end, he of all people could respect wishing to leave one's past as just that. The past. Even so, he'd probably still deck that Sam character given the chance.

"Of course I am," said Grain abruptly, and Scar blinked back to the present after an internal game of catch-up to remember what they'd been speaking of to begin with.

Nodding and smiling faintly, he asked, "So, what are you doing for the rest of your free time?"

The Brit grinned in turn and ruffled his wings, "Well, my schedule is actually rather jam-packed. I'm spending the rest of the day with a friend who's in quite the pickle."

Scar raised his eyebrows, pointing towards himself, "Is it me? Am I in the pickle?"

Grian laughed, "Yes, my briney bro, you are. And I'm determined to stay by your side until you're feeling better again."

Thankful, Scar smiled as well, knowing it would do no good to feel remorseful for taking up his companion's time, or to try and convince him he would be fine on his own.

"Thank you, Grain," he said truthfully.

"Anytime," he replied, "Now let's find something nice calm to do."

"Now those are words I never thought I'd hear you say."

The two chuckled and made their way off, ready to waste the rest of the afternoon in a mellow rhythm to starve off any further panic. Scar knew he'd likely feel off for a while, not fully himself again until at least the following day. The lingering tension of his episodes always latched to his nerves and left him on edge, but he knew the company of an understanding friend would lessen the blow. They'd spend the coming hours in a tense yet manageable tandem, and to some degree, Scar could accept that.

He was still learning to trust the fact he was safe, no matter how much he already wished to embrace his freedom with open arms. Eventually, one day, maybe, he could believe it entirely, or at least to more ample extent. Until then, it was gradual steps forward on the road to recovery.

Grain skipped beside him, cracking light-hearted jokes laced with reassuring phrases, all made to help lift Scar's aching mood.

Wherever it was that road led, however, at least he wasn't walking it alone.

[END]

Comments are always greatly appreciated! More than you could imagine, in fact! ���

[redstone-sun]

A Quiet Dawn

It’s here! It’s finally here! Fluff, a conclusion, call it what you will, but I’ve finally finished something TRSNS related. This takes place several months after the end of TRSNS, after Mumbo has left his temporary house. It’s not that long and I didn’t edit it too hard, but I hope y’all like it!

             Mumbo was coping. He was grateful every day for his freedom, for the ability to wake up alone and see the sky above him, to move about as he wished, to work on whatever project he desired or just sit around and do nothing. There were reminders, of course. A circuit would pull up memories of a machine. Lava would hiss and screams would echo in his head. The touch of redstone could be blazing hot.

             However, the nightmares at least had quieted down considerably. The constant pull of red light in his mind was mostly memory. He had free reign of the island with few limitations and didn’t have to have guards with him wherever he went. Grian and Iskall still thought it was a good idea for him to tell people where he was going if he wouldn’t be around, but it was more of a suggestion. They trusted him, and he was grateful for it.

             Mumbo hadn’t on going back to the box. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going, which wasn’t the best of ideas, but it had been weeks since his last setback. Flying had become one of the few ways he could clear his head these days so he did it often, even just circles around his base. But today, today was different.

             He hadn’t even noticed where he was going until the black box peeked its sharp silhouette over the horizon. The sight of it brought back such a flood of memories that he gasped, nearly losing his rhythm as he flew, but he managed to right himself and make it the rest of the way to the box.

             The roof was as smooth as the day it was built, save for the hopper that mail went into and the chute that was the only entrance and exit to the box.

             Mumbo didn’t enter the box. He knew what it would look like, how it would smell, where every strand of wool touched another in the carpet, every impurity in the obsidian. He had no need to see it again. Instead he took off his elytra and placed it on the black stone next to him before lying down on his back, staring at the sky.

             It was late evening and the air was still. The only sound was Mumbo’s heartbeat in his chest and the hiss of his breath. Though he had spent so much time alone in the box, this sort of peacefulness was blissful to him.

             The sky darkened slowly, and he watched it progress from blue, to orange, to purple, to black. Pinpricks of stars had just begun to appear when a rush of noise scared him upright.

             “Sorry,” Grian said, for it was Grian who had just landed next to him on the roof of the box. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

             “It’s fine,” Mumbo said, grinning and patting the stone next to him. “Care to join me?”

Grian wiggled his elytra and rocket sling off, laying down next to Mumbo on the stone with a sigh. “It’s so quiet up here,’ he said softly, and Mumbo nodded. The two sat in silence for a few minutes watching the stars, before another harsh noise caused both of them to sit up. It was Iskall. He waved at the pair of them, not surprised that either of them was there. He shrugged off his elytra and laid between them without any signs or writing in his book.

The three of them lay on top of the cold, dark stone, staring up at the quiet night. Their hearts beat in tandem, and more words passed between them in the silence than could ever be written. They breathed in unison, hardly moving a muscle as the world moved around them. The sky stretched out from edge to edge, and none of them could see where the stars ended. Their own infinity. Mumbo felt like he could reach up and touch one of the tiny lights, run his finger over the holes in the sky, but he didn’t want to disturb them.

It could have been a few minutes, or an eternity, but the sun finally started to shine over the horizon. Mumbo sat up first and stretched, reaching for his elytra, but Iskall pulled him back. “Here,” he whispered, voice low and gravelly, and handed Mumbo a diamond pick.

Mumbo looked at the pickaxe, confused for a moment, before understanding dawned. “Now? But—but what if—”

Iskall shook his head, not allowing Mumbo to finish. “Now,” he said quietly, and Grian nodded his agreement.

“You’re ready, Mumbo. If I could help I would,” Grian said softly, and Mumbo was grateful that neither of them had truly shattered the silence of the night yet.

Iskall nodded to the box and pulled out his own pick, waiting.

Mumbo stared down at the dark stone. This box had been his home for so many months, but it had also been his prison.

He took a deep breath and began chipping away at the obsidian, the cracking noise harsh in his ears. Iskall joined him wordlessly, and Grian kicked pieces over the edge as they broke.

The first few layers were easy enough. Mumbo and Iskall fell into a rhythm, dodging Grian and strategically taking out each black block of stone. That was before they reached the room.

Iskall broke through the ceiling first, jumping down into the room and helping Grian down after him. Mumbo stared through the small hole at the white carpet, the bed, the chest, and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. Red light crept into his mind, terrible and familiar, and he froze up.

Grian moved directly beneath the hole, staring worriedly up at him. “It’s okay, Mumbo,” he called. “Take your time. You’re free now. You can leave if you come in.”

Mumbo looked up to the brightening sky, trying to calm his racing heart. Slowly, he took in a shuddering breath and looked back down into the room. Closing his eyes, he lowered himself down through the hole, nearly jumping out of his skin as Iskall’s arms encircled his waist to support him. He gasped as his feet touched the floor, heart leaping to his throat, but already the panic was fading. Iskall had already been tearing up a lot of the carpet and taken the iron door down, along with some of the surrounding obsidian. Just that fact already made him feel more comfortable. The room barely looked like the place he’d whiled away so many months.

He moved to the wall that had the window, beginning to break the obsidian around it. Grian lay stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and the pose was so familiar it almost gave Mumbo pause, but he kept working. Iskall was taking out the ceiling and fresh morning light flooded in to the box.

What I would have given for that… Mumbo thought, remembering the times not knowing if it was night or day and missing the feeling of wind and real sunlight on his skin. A breeze tickled his hair and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. Iskall had already started on the doorway.

Mumbo continued at his task, and he found that he could feel almost happy with what he was doing. How often had he wished to do this very thing? To break down these walls and free himself? Of course, it had been thought in different contexts, but this one was the best. His freedom. His true freedom.

             “How did you survive for so long like this, Mumbo?” Grian asked suddenly. “There’s nothing to do in here. It’s silent and you were trying to get away from something in your own head. How on earth did you do it?”

             Mumbo smiled softly. “I had Iskall. And you.” And Pablo.

             Grian sat up, bracing himself against the remaining wall. “You’ve come so far, you know that?” he said, grinning, and Mumbo laughed.

             “I sure hope I have,” he said.

             Iskall finally took down the whole corridor, returning to what remained of the room. He motioned for Grian to get up and broke the bed beneath him, scooping it up. Mumbo hurriedly started on the floor, unsure of how many blocks deep it was. With both him and Iskall working together, both now wearing their elytra, they made it down to the last layer. Grian jumped off and glided around, circling them. Last row. Mumbo’s lungs were filled with the blue sky above him. Last block.

             Iskall leapt off then, motioning for Mumbo to break the last chunk of obsidian. The final remnant of the box. Mumbo checked that his elytra was on and that he could readily access rockets.

             Mumbo broke the block, the dark shards falling to earth. The wind lifted him into the air, and he was laughing, and so were Grian and Iskall, and he was weightless, he was flying, he was safe, he was truly free.