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deus-and-the-machina · 1 year ago

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MCYT Yuri week - day 6, sleep/party

for @mcyt-yuri-week this sure is a sleep party! sleepover? it sure is a party. It's also on ao3. enjoy!

When Pearl had invited Cleo over to the…‘Boatem Sleepover’, somehow she didn’t expect this.

The five looney neighbors plus Cub were all in a circle folded forward on the ground and muttering some weird chants. Cleo began to back away, starting to understand what the vibe here was. Unfortunately for her, Pearl had a sixth sense and popped up just as she turned away. “Cleo! Come join us!”

She really, really shouldn’t, especially given the look of manic exhaustion in Pearl’s eyes, but part of her was also a slave to the whims of society conventions. She’d been invited! Even if it was some weird cult, backing out now would be a tad awkward. So they gave Pearl a strained smile. “I’m here? Hi! Now uh, what is this…?”

“Oh we’re staying awake so the moon doesn’t come down on all of us.” Cleo screamed internally.

“Cool! And you want me to…?”

Pearl giggled. “Isn’t it obvious? Stay awake with us! Enjoy the moon in all her beauty so she doesn’t feel left out anymore. Apparently we skip over her too much. Gotta give even the night time some loving, ya know.”

Cleo glanced over at the chanting Boatem members, then back to Pearl. “I suppose I can stay awake? But don’t expect me to start doing weird chanting or anything.”

With a squeal, Pearl hugged their arm. “Oh thank you Cleo, you won’t regret it!”

I already am!

Pearl led her over to the others, babbling something or other about an introduction and slumber parties. The others lifted their heads to greet her.

“Hi Cleo!

“Hi Cleo.”

“Heya.”

“Mmgn, hey Cleo.” That was Mumbo, who looked close to passing out already. Honestly all of them looked absolutely exhausted. No wonder they were all being freaky!

Pearl led her to a spot on the grass where the two sat down, the other woman sprawling out immediately on her back. She gazed up at the stars. “Honestly, it’s kinda fun once you get used to it. We’re having a slumber party!”

Gingerly, Cleo settled down next to her. “Mmkay, if you say so. I’m only here for you, just letting you know.

“Oh I know. That’s why I asked!” The tricky star girl threw her arms around Cleo’s waist, tucking herself into their backside. They rolled their eyes, but a slight grin tugged at their mouth. She patted Pearl’s head lighty, and began gearing herself up for a long night.

Two hours in, and the shrieking started. “Oh god, are those phantoms?” Cleo groaned, pushing herself up. The other ‘mooners’, as they called themself, jumped up and began to scramble, yelling illegibly.

Having calmly gotten to her feet, Pearl surveyed the area with a gleam in her eye. “Yeah! This is the fun bit!”

“Pearl, I don’t think anyone in their right minds would call being dive bombed by phantoms ‘fun’.”

She threw back her head and cackled. “I’ve been awake for three days, Cleo! I’m running on nothing but adrenaline. This is the most fun I think I’ll ever get in my entire life!” Reaching out into the air, a netherite sword manifested in a flash of violet. She began slashing at the air wildly, running in circles. Just when Cleo had thought she’d witnessed the pinnacle of madness…

They caught a glimpse of the first phantom swooping towards them. “Pearl, watch out–” But her warning was evidently unneeded, as Pearl snapped around and leaped into the air, thrusting her sword up and skewering it through the stomach.

Nervous frantic laughter erupted from who Cleo was pretty sure was Scar. The other Mooners had nothing in the way of organization, running around like headless chickens. To be fair, so was Pearl. She just had a sword about it. Resigning herself to the madness, Cleo sat back down and watched Pearl do her thing.

Dozens of dead phantoms later, some of which Grian and Cub have even managed to kill, the coast seemed to be clear. Pearl strutted back towards Cleo, huffing and puffing with effort.

They were both taken aback by another screech as Pearl lunged forward to land right in front of Cleo, the sound of her sword skewering flesh echoing in Cleo’s ears. Looking up, the phantom was far too close to Cleo’s head for comfort. “Y’know what, this has been fun, but I think I’m going to leave now.”

Pearl yelped and staggered back so that she wasn’t nearly stepping on Cleo. “Wait! We’ve still gotta–” When a wave of exhaustion hit her. She stumbled and began to fall forward. Panic flared in Cleo’s chest as they rushed to catch her. The sword clattered to the ground.

Cleo maneuvered Pearl so that she was tucked in their arms bridal style. She was still awake, though not by much. While she mumbled to herself, Cleo placed a hand on her forehead. “Just sleep. I’ll take you to your base.”

With that slight bit of reassurance, Pearl promptly passed out. “And you,” they turned to the Mooners. “Please try to sleep too. No one likes phantoms or cults, thank you very much.” With a groan, Mumbo planted face first on the ground. Soon after, a faint snoring sound was coming from him.

With a sigh, Cleo turned around and began marching towards Pearl’s boat. Someone who’d been ripping through phantoms one moment ago was now laid vulnerable and defenseless in their arms, head curled into their chest. Cleo felt their heart swell and kissed her on the forehead.

“Sleep well, Pearl. We’ll all still be here when you awake. Hopefully with less phantoms.”

#hermitshipping #pearleo #moonrot #mcytyuriweek2023

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lunar-writes-things · 2 years ago

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22) A Grain of Love

"This is Scar's fault." Y/n pouted to Grian as he made warm soup in the kitchen while Y/n lay in the bed of her starter base

“I think it's both of your faults.” Grian said, “You didn't stop him from dancing in the rain.”

“... You have a point there but-” Y/n tried again

“No buts! Not unless you're complimenting mine.” Grian grins as he turned around, a bowl of warm soup in his hand

His words squeeze a laugh out of Y/n that turns into a coughing fit and he comes up to place the bowl down and rub at their back

"Eat some soup and get some rest." Grian's grin softened "I'll make a bowl for Scar and give some to have."

"Okay," Y/n smiled at him "be safe Hon."

Grian seemed to melt at the pet name and pressed a kiss to their forehead

"After this, I'm gonna take you out on a date, when you get better, Okay? But We'll be building and then star gazing. So dress warmly." He said and watched as Y/n's eyes brightened with excitement

"Okay! I can't wait." They grinned

It took a week and during that week, Y/n watched with worried eyes as the moon grew bigger and bigger.

However, during so, she was visited by everyone excluding scar because he was still sick and she sent letters via Boatem member to keep in touch with him.

"Ready Y/n?" Grian asked sitting on the bed as wrapped the last of the food you would take to eat even if Grian was insisting that you didn't need it

"With you around? Always Lovebird." Y/n turned to look at him from their mirror, eyes shining with adoration and excitement as their wings fluttered from their barely contained joy

Grian stood up and reached forward to grab their hand, pulling them into him and letting his arm and hand rest on their waist as he grinned up at them

"Then Come Precious Angel into a night of wonder and when dancing won't get you sick." Grian gave a goofy smile and Y/n swore they felt their heart melt

Grian whisked Y/n away, grabbing their hand in the process, and dragged them to the top of his mountain where there was a half build cylinder and a picnic blanket near with a ton of finger foods and snacks along with containers that had warm steaming food in them. On the blanket was a bunch of pillows and blankets and Grian set up his communicator to play a movie while he builds

"I know you're not into anything fancy, And truth be told, All of us mainly just want to spend time with you." Grian said "I'm gonna be building and finishing this off but you are free to help! I have supplies in this chest here and the blueprints right there. I know how much you like building but if you don't wanna feel free to sit and relax to this movie, I know it's your favorite."

"Let the movie play in the background," Y/n murmured and walked up to Grian, wrapping their arms around his shoulders "Let's build."

Grian was building a conservatory to keep track of the moon to see if it was actually getting bigger and bigger. He explained the simple science of it while they two sat and ignored the movie in front of them to look at each other and listen to each other like they were the most interesting people in the world.

"This really cool! It's quite simple actually." Y/n smiled "Simple is good. You don't need to overdo things to be smart." Y/n smiled and curled into his side even more as a cold breeze blew by

although... it was a little hard to curl into someone shorter than them...

who cares?

Y/n felt safe and warm by the side of the mischievous avian and that's all they could really ask for.

The night passes with whispers and laughs shared between the two. Each time Grian laughs Y/n couldn't help but be captivated by the man in front of them. With hair that shined like silver in the moonlight, eyes glittering like the stars above and a smile as bright as the moon.

“Hey Y/n?” Grian asked softly, catching Y/n’s attention from their drooling

“Yes, lovebird?” Y/n replied in a matching hushed tone, leaning forward towards Grian “What's going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

“Would you like to dance?” He asked and held out a hand, palm up with his eyes staring straight into their soul

How could they ever say no?

“Of course Lovebird,” Y/n said and took his hand

The two smiled at each other and let go to stand up. Grian took Y/n’s hand again and led them to the edge of the stone they were laying on

“Do you trust me?” Grian whispered the grip he had on their hand so tight... As if Y/n would say no

“... With everything I am,” Y/n started, looking Grian straight in the eyes “I give you all my love and trust. For you and everyone else in this beautiful village are my world and will continue to be until this world ends. I trust you Grian, and I will trust you with everything I have.”

“Hold on tight then Angel,” Grian said and wrapped his empty arm around their waist tightly, wing flaring out as he dragged both of them off the cliff and with powerful flaps held the two up against the constellations.

Y/n’s breath was taken away and they helped Grian, slapping their wings along with his until, after trial and error, their pattern synced up. Y/n was starstruck, they were so high above the clouds and the stars looked so close Y/n could touch them.

Y/n stared at the sky until Grian began to lead them in a soft and subtle sway. A low baritone voice humming a small tune. Y/n looked at Grian only to see he was already staring at them as if they were the moon.

Glorious

“Wasn't really thinking, Wasn't looking, Wasn't searching for an answer,” The words escaped his lips so softly that Y/n could barely hear him “In the moonlight. When I saw your face.”

Y/n had heard his story of when he fell in love with him not even five minutes ago. They were knocked out from overworking themselves and needed someone to hold them. That someone was Grian. He was awake when they were passed out. He said he felt complete with them in his arms.

Y/n couldn't agree more

“Saw you looking at me, Saw you peeking out from under moonbeams, Through the palm trees swaying in the breeze. I know I'm feeling so much more than ever before and so I'm giving more to you than I thought I could do!” Grian exclaimed, spinning Y/n so fast that a laugh bubbled out of their chest and into the starlit sky

“Don't know how it happened, don't know why but you don't really need a reason.” Y/n sang back a hand moving from his shoulder to cup his face m, “When the stars shine, Just to fall in love. Made to love each other, Made to be together for a lifetime... In the sunshine flying in the sky.”

“I know I'm feeling so much more than ever before,” Y/n admitted softly, heart and soul working it's self I to the lyrics “And so I'm giving more to you than I thought I could do...”

“Oh...” The two hummed as their makeshift song began to come to a close

“Now I know love is real,” Grian whispered “So when sky high, As the angels try, Leaving you and I. Fly love...”

Their song trailed off to humming as the two swayed in the ballroom of stars. Their time was spent in coziness and familiarity and Y/n couldn't dare ask for more

Except for maybe...

“Hey, Grian?” Y/n asked softly, starting to feel shy

“Yes, Angel?” He whispered

“Can I kiss you?” They asked, closing their eyes tightly

Grian took a sharp breath and made a noise of shock. When Y/n opened their eyes, Grian was staring at them with big pleading eyes

“Is this a joke?” he asked

“No?” You replied before taking a pause “No. This isn't a joke. My or your feelings will never be a joke to me.”

Y/n could have sworn she saw grain swallow before giving a small nod.

“I need words Lovebird,” Y/n said

“Kiss me,” His voice was hoarse and Y/n wanted to swoon, even more so when he licked his lips and whispered a weak “please.”

Y/n leaned forward slowly and as their lips brushed, Y/n stopped short and asked “are you sure?”

“If you don’t kiss me right now I will let both of us fall,” Grian whispered and Y/n let out a light laugh and gently pressed their lips to his

Grian let out a soft sigh as he pressed into the kiss, absolutely melting into Y/n’s touch as the hand that had once cupped his cheek moved to thread fingers through his hair.

When Grian pulled away he asked softly “Can I do that whenever now? Even in front of the others?”

“Yes,” Y/n breathed out and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips again “Please do.”

Masterlist

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kayawolfhorse · 1 year ago

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Supermoon - Chapter Two | Read on Ao3

Previous / Next

— ☾ —

The storm eventually comes, dumping buckets upon the Boatem crew and completely soaking person and horse alike in a matter of seconds.

Pearl is quick to grab her mercifully waterproof cloak from her inventory, draping it across her shoulders and over part of Moon’s hindquarters, drawing the deep red hood up. Grian and Scar aren’t so prepared, both scrambling to lift shields over their heads in an attempt to block the rain. Grian soon gives up on the effort, trotting past Pearl looking positively sodden both in state of mind and being. Scar, however, manages to get a good hold on the thing, and gives Grian a wink that looks hilariously out of place beneath his makeshift cover.

“Nice hat you’ve got there, Scar!” Pearl shouts over the deafening clamor of the rain.

He grins back at Pearl in response, before his horse slipping in a particularly muddy part of the path uproots and knocks the shield over entirely. Pearl winces, and her arm twitches over to grab at Scar, despite him being a good four blocks away. Thankfully, both Scar and his steed regain balance quickly.

“Let’s maybe find some shelter?” Impulse suggests, concern in his tone, from somewhere behind Pearl.

“I’m working on it!” is Grian’s response, far ahead of the group, and moments later he stops and turns around. “Found a surface cave,” he shouts, pointing to the left of the path, “large enough for the horses, too.”

The cave’s mouth opens against the side of a steep hill, indeed tall enough to allow horse and rider to enter without trouble. Mumbo and Impulse dismount quickly and hang torches on the stony walls before mobs can spawn, and Grian ventures into the small opening that leads off of the back wall. Pearl and Scar tend to the horses, taking the bits from their mouths and tying the reins to a fallen log near the entrance.

“You think we can light a fire in here?” Scar ponders after the horses are squared away.

Mumbo turns, and looks between the shivering members with raised eyebrows. “I think we’re going to have to!”

“The ceiling’s tall enough for it.” Impulse shrugs, and sets to work building a fire in the middle of the cave. Shortly after, a small, warm campfire is alight, and the flames cast shadows that dance across the walls around them.

“Oh yeah, this is nice,” Scar says, huddling as close to the fire as he can get. Mumbo plonks down beside him, taking off the coat he’s worn in place of his usual suit jacket and wringing out his red tie.

Pearl strips off her soaked hoodie and slips her cloak back on over her tank top. “Has Grian come back yet?” she asks, after swallowing a bite of bread.

“Don’t believe he has,” Impulse says. “Should someone go get him?”

“Yeah, I’ll do it.” With a torch in one hand and bread in the other, Pearl starts down the long, spindly cave after Grian.

It doesn’t take too long to find him, though time always feels a bit strange underground. The narrow walls around Pearl open up into a beautiful lush cave, glowing berries ripe upon long, draping vines hanging from a mossy ceiling. Shallow clay pools line the ledge Pearl finds herself upon, the rest of the cave a way’s below. Grian sits at the edge of one of them, his knees drawn up to his chin. An arrow sticks out of his still wet sweater, but wobbles with his breathing. The puncture is shallow.

He’s completely still. Grian is always moving, always fidgeting with his hands, his feet. She takes a seat next to him.

For a second, maybe two, everything’s silent, save for the light splashing of fish and axolotls further in the ponds.

“We’ve got a fire going up top,” Pearl offers, by way of conversation. “Could go get you all nice and warmed up.”

“Hm,” is what she gets in reply. Pearl lets the syllable echo across the lonely stone walls.

Even rarer than Grian’s still moments are his quiet ones. It doesn’t take long for him to turn to Pearl, a sharp movement, and say, “You’re not worried? About any of this?” He punctuates the final word with a wide, sweeping gesture.

“Well sure I am,” Pearl manages to get out. A weak answer that doesn’t convey the mountain of worry that’s found a home upon her chest.

Grian, too, finds the response dissatisfying. “If we fail, we’re putting all of our friends in terrible danger. I don’t think either of us could live with ourselves if that happened.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t.” If anything happened to any of the hermits Pearl’s come to care about so much, she’s not sure she would ever be able to forgive herself.

“Aren’t you afraid of us failing?” Something tinged with desperation creeps into Grian’s tone, a note Pearl can’t quite identify.

Pearl’s suddenly swept up in a memory, from when she and Grian were young and their respective wings had just started growing strong enough to support their weight.

They stood together on a tree branch four blocks off the ground, Pearl’s hair in twin braids and Grian’s sweater green, instead of his signature red. Despite the impulsive nature that’d stuck with Grian since he could move on his own, he was nervous to jump.

Young Grian had asked a similar question to the one his present self proposed now. Pearl promised him that she’d jump first, and would catch him if he fell. After linking pinkies to seal the deal, Pearl extended her wings and tipped forward, letting the breeze catch her and float her gently down.

Grian jumped soon after, on his colorful macaw wings. He glided down easily, and turned to her with a grin so infectious Pearl couldn’t help but return it. She’d fallen in love with flying first, but he fell harder.

Present Pearl has no such luxury of taking the first jump, but she offers her hand out anyway. Grian looks surprised, but is quick to take it. Pearl squeezes, once, and he returns it before they both let go.

“It’s not going to be easy, but when has it ever been, aye? I think we’ll manage,” Pearl says, as much for Grian’s benefit as her own. She hopes they can manage.

“There’s more to it than that and you know it,” Grian grumps, his stress a practically palpable thing between them.

Pearl’s chest feels tight. She sighs. “I know. I want to protect them as much as you do.” She glances down at her gloves, black with a little moon stitched onto the back of each one, covering her hands partway up her fingers. “There’s nothing we can do but try, I guess. Though I can’t say I’m thrilled to have to see the Watchers again.”

This time, it’s Grian who reaches for Pearl, giving her shoulder an awkward but sweet pat and withdrawing his hand before she has time to accuse him of sentimentality.

“I’m not happy about it either. But by getting the egg, I think,” his voice betrays him, trembling around the edges, “I hope it’ll keep them properly away from the server. For good.”

Won't that be nice? Pearl can’t deny the times her antennae have twitched, sensing the presence of a gaze only she can feel at the back of her neck.

Privately, Grian’s told Pearl of the nightmares he suffers from, beneath an audience of a thousand glowing eyes.

“I hope so, too.” Pearl stands up and shakes out her cloak to dislodge any debris. “We do have a pretty nice fire going, if you’d be interested in drying off instead of sulking in a damp cave,” she teases, to Grian’s indignant denial.

Grian complains about his damp shoes as they walk back, and Pearl teases him with her waterproof boots. He lightly shoves her, and in return Pearl kicks a bit of water at him from a puddle they pass.

They rejoin their friends together, and it isn’t long until the rain stops, revealing a beautiful blue sky above the dark clouds. After a quick lunch of flasks of soup, baked potatoes, and cookies that Scar had passed around, declaring them the best on the server (which everyone secretly agreed with as they munched on them), the group was off once more, a crisp wind rustling Pearl’s hair and leaves crunching beneath Moon’s hooves.

Pearl falls into step next to Impulse, and they chat about a new farm he’s working the details out on as they watch Grian, Scar, and Mumbo in front of them, the latter two cheerfully singing Wonderwall as Grian huffs in annoyance. As they turn a corner, Pearl catches a glimpse of the side of Grian’s face, and the smile he’s trying to contain.

Further into the evening, the unmistakable hiss of a creeper interrupts the quiet chatter of the group. Pearl pivots her horse away just in time to avoid the explosion—the much-larger-than-a-normal-creeper’s explosion.

“What on Earth are charged creepers doing out here?!” Mumbo yelps as his steed canters away from another creeper—a charged one—that’s heading straight for him.

“So that’s where they went!” Scar looks thoughtful even in the chaos of swerving away from the mobs.

“Scar!” Grian yells, and levels his bow at one of the creepers, before breaking sight to run away from it when it targets him instead.

Pearl counts six charged creepers in total. How they got all the way out here, a thousand blocks away from where Scar had been collecting them, is beyond her.

“Well we can’t just leave them here!” Impulse guides his horse away from the two on him.

“Yeah, but I can’t stay still enough to aim without them catching up. Anyone have boats?” Grian asks, responded to with a chorus of noes.

“Okay, new plan. Impulse, you and Mumbo get the creepers focused on you. Pearl and Scar, bow them. I’ll help shoot and jump in distracting if needed.” Grian points between the group as he speaks. “Capeesh?”

“Aye aye, captain!” Scar gives Grian a two-fingered salute and trots up next to Pearl.

The plan works well, with only one close call when one of the creepers gets too close to Scar. Grian shoots it down quickly.

Before they continue on, Grian and Impulse, the two people with dirt on them—of all blocks, but useful in the moment—fix up the single creeper hole left behind.

“Well! That was fun,” Scar says cheerfully, and laughs when Grian scolds him with far too much amusement in his voice to be truly resentful.

The rest of the day is uneventful, save for once instance in which Scar manages to almost fall out of his saddle kicking up into a canter. How the man can be so clumsy but speak with such grace is beyond Pearl.

They stop for camp just as the sun sets, with plans for rising early the next morning. As she pitches her pale green tent, Pearl catches sight of the almost full moon, rising over the eastern horizon. Such a sight would usually bring her peace, and even now she can’t help but smile at it as if greeting an old friend, but there’s a gnawing tension in her stomach that’s hard to ignore.

After the last stake is hammered into place and her sleeping bag is set up inside, Pearl leaves her tent to join her friends around the campfire situated in the center of their little camp, this one larger than the fire they had going in the cave.

Mumbo is the only one missing, and she glances beyond the fire to see him struggling with his tent. From this angle, the trademark ‘i’ that runs up the side of Impulse’s tent looks almost like an exclamation mark hovering over Mumbo’s head. Grian sets off to help him, and the remaining three get to work stoking the fire and setting up their dinner, plus the makings for s’mores at the end of it.

One fallen log already sits near the campfire, and Pearl spots another a little way’s away, which she promptly drags over to make more seating opposite of it. Scar gives Pearl a playful round of applause, and she gives a joking flex of her arm before sitting down and grabbing the mug of apple cider Impulse offers her.

Grian and Mumbo soon return, tent finally constructed, the latter exclamiming, “redstone is easier than this!” Dinner is full of traded stories, jokes, and laughter. S’mores are assembled and a toast is made in favor of Boatem, which quickly devolves into chaos as Grian and Scar attempt to get sticky, melted marshmallow in the other’s hair.

Pearl sits next to Mumbo, a shared blanket draped across both of their shoulders to shield against the cold night, and is filled with a warmth for her friends, her family, that, just for a moment, beats out the spike of ice lodged in her chest. She’d be content to stay here forever, with the sounds of her friends’ laughter and the warmth from the drink cupped between her palms, Pearl thinks.

Eventually, with the moon shining over a dwindling fire, Pearl bids her goodnight to Scar and Grian, the other two having already retired for the night. No longer is the atmosphere loud enough to drown out her worries, and they grow louder to the quiet tune of murmured conversation and ashes crackling in the fire pit as Pearl walks back to her things.

The stars wink as Pearl zips herself into her tent. Their very twinkle seems to mock her, and Pearl tucks her head beneath her pillow in defense. The roar in her ears only increases as she falls into fitful rest, and her dreams are strange, disoriented.

They’ll get that egg, no matter what. Whatever it takes, Pearl won’t let the Watchers win.

(Reblogs do more than likes!)

#my writing #as much as i enjoy putting blorbos in situations it’s also fun letting them have a nice time around a campfire so i went with a chill vibe #hermitcraft #pearlescentmoon #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #impulsesv #boatem

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aurabird · 1 year ago

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A Search For Belonging

Chapter 10: Shenanigans

In which Xornoth finds himself roped into more pranks and activities

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

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

The next few days were mostly uneventful for Xornoth aside from the occasional antics going on in Boatem that he bore witness to.

There was now a dirt structure Scar had built spiraling into the sky and ending right above the Boatem Hole and a strange-but-nevertheless-mind-blowing flying machine in the sky between Mumbo’s base and Midnight Alley. Both new additions being the result of messing with Grian while the avian was in a meditative state.

On top of that, Xornoth had watched Grian remove several black banners placed by the Big Eye’s crew advertising their iron shop, an establishment apparently sponsored by Mumbo himself.

There really was never a dull moment in Boatem.

Today, however, would hopefully be more eventful for Xornoth personally as he made his way over to the Swaggon by Scar’s request. Apparently, his fellow Hermit had something for him, a hat to be specific.

“So I didn’t exactly know what you’d like but given what you have told us and the plans for your base I managed to make something that I really hope you enjoy.” Scar explained as they entered the hat shop.

“If it’s anything like the hats I’ve seen on the others I’m sure it’s amazing, Scar.”

It was true, the hats that every other member of Boatem now wore had been beautifully made and Xornoth was excited to see what Scar had made for him.

“Well, if there’s anything about it that you don’t like I’m perfectly fine with changing it. Are you ready to see?”

“I am.”

At the confirmation Scar grabbed something off a hook behind him and turned around with a dramatic flourish, presenting the hat in question.

Xornoth had expected it to be a crown of some sort as a throwback to the fact Empiria was a land of monarchs. Instead, it was modeled after a sheep wearing a silver circlet on its head, a dopey look in its beady eyes that made it absolutely adorable.

A smile crossed his face at the sight, “Scar…I love it.”

“Oh thank goodness!” Scar sighed in relief as Xornoth took the hat from him to get a closer look, “I was so nervous that I would trigger a bad memory or something with the crown on its head and all! I hope it fits, it's a bit hard to design something for a person with antlers, you know?”

“Only one way to find out.” Xornoth said before turning to a mirror on the wall and putting the hat on, finding it fit perfectly between the growths on his head and making his smile grow even wider at just how perfect it seemed to match him.

After leaving the Hat Shop and making his way back to the central area of Boatem Xornoth noticed the giant sign that read ‘Octagon’ that was now a part of the long-legged monstrosity that was selling things on Boatem’s coast.

The voices of Grian and Impulse then reached his ears, the former sounding very annoyed compared to usual.

As the two Hermits in question came into view Xornoth was able to see why. The Octagon sign wasn’t the only advertisement in Boatem, every other establishment with the exception of Horse-Head Farms had left something in the village square.

“...advertise and bring people here. Oh look, it's Xornoth!”

“Hey you guys. What are you two up to?”

“First off, I love your hat.” Grian began with a smile, “And secondly, I’ve got a really good idea for marketing! We just have to decide who we’re going to do it to”

“Is this…aggressive marketing?” Impulse asked.

“It is very in-your-face marketing.”

“Oh I love it.”

“Oooh, so we just have to pick someone then right?” Xornoth questioned.

Grian nodded, “Well we’ve got Octagon, Rons, the Evil Emporium, and Cleo who all think its fine to advertise here so we can definitely advertise there.”

After several minutes of back-and-forth chatter and Impulse darting off to gather several shulkers of logs Xornoth and Grian found themselves over at the Octagon atop a platform the latter Grian had constructed above the shop.

“I don’t exactly know if this is going to work the way I think it’s going to work.” Grian admitted as he began to build.

“Yeah, how exactly do you have this in your head?” Xornoth questioned.

“Redstone.” Grian finished as he placed two observers and a dispenser down; the latter component beginning to activate as it got a signal. “There. Stage one is complete.”

Impulse arrived with the shulkers of requested logs and Grian was quick to explain how his plan would work as he began to craft several boats, shrinking them to a smaller size and then tossing them into a hopper that had been placed above the firing dispenser.

Xornoth laughed with Impulse as he watched the component spit the boats back out at full size, instantly dropping them down into the shop below and causing several stacks to begin forming.

“Now we just take this to the extreme!” Grian cackled with devious glee at the flawless execution of his plan.

The trio went on to ‘boat bomb’ Big Eyes Bay, this time letting the boats all occupy the same spot as opposed to letting them spread out. Once finished, they settled down on the nearby mountainside and waited for one of the residents to investigate the prank. It wasn’t long before Tango showed up and proceeded to cause all the boats to explode in every direction.

Roaring laughter resounded from the three members of Boatem at the display, “That was SO MUCH faster than I expected it to be!” Grian exclaimed.

After they had managed to compose themselves they flew down to greet Tango, the half-blazeborn now thoroughly flustered. “Buy at Boatem!” Grian laughed before proceeding to hop around on the many boats in the water, Xornoth and Impulse following suit.

“I will remember this!” Tango threatened with a grin, caught up in laughing himself as he joined in on the boat-hopping antics, everyone getting stuck between the wooden vessels occasionally.

After a farewell to Tango the trio took off, returning to their original plans for the day. Xornoth landed in the center of New Rivendell with a massive smile on his face and was more than energized to build the storage building he had planned so that he could finally move all his resources from his house and various other random locations strewn about the mountain, into one dedicated place.

Xornoth had spent most of the following morning preparing for the long, arduous process of moving and sorting his items into the now-finished storage building and decided to take a break to check the Boatem group chat to see if he’d missed any messages while he had been working. Scrolling up to the last message he read, two Mumbo had sent earlier caught his eye.

<MumboJumbo> errr guys

<MumboJumbo> the boatem hole has bedrock in it

Xornoth looked at the image sent in the chat and was confused. He knew bedrock didn’t simply regenerate, be it through magic or otherwise and it prompted him to go check it out for himself after putting all his gear and supplies into his enderchest.

Even if bedrock had once again sealed up the hole into the void, Xornoth wasn’t going to take any chances. He wasn’t procrastinating, that would be nonsense.

Upon his arrival to the scene Xornoth dared to look down into the Boatem Hole and, just like Mumbo had said, the area that normally led to the void was once again covered in bedrock.

Curious, he decided to descend into the depths to investigate the strange phenomenon, setting his feet down on the layer of bedrock…

…and falling through immediately after.

Xornoth let out a panicked yelp as he tried to stabilize, but to no avail as his wings did not react fast enough. The inky blackness of the void filled his lungs, suffocating him; waves of pain flaring through his entire body as he was pulled further down into the abyss.

Xornoth fell out of the world

He jolted awake in his bed with a gasp, panting heavily as he took in fresh air. His communicator pinged multiple times in quick succession as he recovered from the traumatic respawn, no doubt Hermits worried about him. He quickly shot a message in the chat saying he was fine and that he didn’t lose anything except a bit of pride.

Once the post-mortem effects had worn off Xornoth got out of bed and figured that he already decided that he would not actually move everything into his storage building today so, he may as well just fly around and see what the other Hermits were up to.

Again, definitely not procrastinating at all, he just needed to interact more with his fellow Hermits outside of Boatem.

His flight took him to various locations to try and find Hermits to interact with and Xornoth found himself roped up in a game he’d never heard of before known as Leaf Spleef with Cub, Joe, and Cleo, getting to know them better in the process. It was nice, to be able to just goof around and have fun without any real responsibility or a kingdom to eventually run.

The sun had begun to set by the time he had begun to make his way back to Boatem, flying over Big-Eyes bay and seeing it still covered in boats.

As Xornoth passed over the Evil Emporium, the one shop he never really visited often since most of his supplies were easy to harvest himself, he took notice of the individual pacing in front of the stairs, red armor contrasted against a deepslate and blackstone building with a glass orb atop it.

Curious to talk to the one Hermit he knew so little about, Xornoth descended, landing a bit away from Exiel before approaching.

“Um…hi?” He began in greeting, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I was just passing through on my way back to Boatem and saw you pacing; thought I might as well take the chance to speak with you since you’re like, the only Hermit I have had no interactions with at all.”

Exiel turned to him, red eyes meeting Xornoth’s own and causing the elf to freeze up. He could almost picture veins of crimson marring the voidkind’s skin under the armor, pulsating with dark power that drove the corrupted individual to madness and…

“Oh, you're the elf they recently adopted.”

The blunt remark snapped Xornoth from his spiraling thoughts and back to reality, “Uh….yeah. That’s me, I’m Xornoth.”

“Well, Xornoth. Welcome to my humble abode I suppose. And no, I’m just frustrated at my stupid brother installing a machine at Octagon that completely ruins the entire point of the Hermits buying derpcoin from the Emporium!”

Xornoth let out a chuckle, “Brothers, am I right?”

The comment made Exiel give him a quizzical look, “You have a brother too?”

“I do. We aren’t as close anymore though, not like we were before destiny and fate tore us apart for the sake of prophecy.”

“‘Suma and I weren’t as close as we are now, you know. I resented my brother and what he had so I found myself aligned with a malicious individual who convinced me that the solution to my problem was to embrace it and destroy everything that Xisuma knew. I tried for many years but deep down I had started to grow fond of the band of misfits and runaways he surrounded himself with and began to realize that what I was doing was wrong. After everything I’d done though, I felt I had no chance at forgiveness so I banished myself to wallow in my own pity. When I came crawling back to Xisuma I was desperate for purpose, I never expected forgiveness from him, let alone the invitation to join the Hermits…but here I am, I suppose. If there was hope for me to redeem myself, then there’s probably hope for you and your brother as well.”

Xornoth gave a bittersweet smile, “It’s a nice thought, but Scott probably thinks I’m dead and after everything I did to him and those he called his friends, redemption and forgiveness are no longer an option for me.” he paused a moment before continuing, “But it’s fine, I have all the Hermits now. After decades of being a pawn of destiny, I am finally free to do whatever I want, to be my own person with my own choices.”

A sly grin crossed Exiel’s face at Xornoth’s words, “Well, how about you use that freedom to make your own choices and buy something with that Derpcoin my brother gave you a while back?”

A laugh escaped Xornoth at the comment, “I blew it all buying wood at Octagon for the boat bomb prank we did there and at Big-Eyes Bay.”

“You realize that you buying the wood from them is a win in their eyes, right?”

“Yes, but it was hilarious all the same. Grian is debating hitting up this place next you know? Perhaps, if you give me some derpcoin I can convince him to spare you guys?~”

“You’ve been hanging around with Scar too much. You’re picking up on his marketing habits.”

Xornoth smiled, “I’m only joking, we will probably hit Big-Eyes bay for the bedrock fiasco next.” he tossed two of the diamonds he’d won from Leaf Spleef earlier to Exiel, “How much derpcoin will that get me?”

A few derpcoin richer, Xornoth bid farewell to Exiel and continued to make his way back to Boatem, landing on the balcony of his house and going inside to freshen up as the moon began to cast its glow on the land below.

Before he settled down for the night he checked to see what he’d missed in the main and Boatem chats.

<Grian> Who’s up for getting back at Big-Eyes Bay tomorrow?

<ImpulseSV> I’m in!

<MumboJumbo> Same

<GoodTimeWithScar> Can’t, was invited to test the horse course with Bdubs and Etho.

<Grian> No worries. Xornoth, are you up for more pranking?

Xornoth, feeling bad he’d missed most of the conversation typed out his response

<Xornoth> Sorry for the late reply, I was busy most of today. Definitely in; dying to the void this morning was the worst.

With his message sent, Xornoth silenced his communicator and called it for the night, looking forward to the pranking of Big Eyes bay…

…and still denying that it was an excuse to get out of moving everything into his storage building.

#empires smp #hermitcraft #hermitcraft x empires #empiresblr #hermitblr #Xornoth #empires xornoth #grian #impulseSV #goodtimeswithscar #evil xisuma #a search for belonging #My writing

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redgyl · 2 years ago

Text

I'm happy that y'all like my story. Thank you all so much! You are so kind.

Chapter 4

The Boatem Knights did not go as far that day as they would have liked. It took ages to round up the scattered horses, and it took a while for Mumbo and Impulse to construct a litter to transport Grian in. Grian didn’t wake up — the serious brain-bashing, whiplash, shattered bones, and internal bleeding combined was a little too much for even Pearl’s skills to completely mend so quickly — and Scar uselessly ‘kept watch,’ keeping his distance from everyone and looking everywhere except at them. When they finally moved on, Scar stayed far ahead of them, though keeping himself clearly in their sight. Grian rode in the litter, a sheet of fabric stretched between 2 poles cut from trees, the space between made with two sticks holding the end on the ground apart, and the other end of he poles lashed to either side of Grian’s horse. In this carrier, Grian was carefully dragged, suspended behind his horse as Pearl led it by the reins.

They finally made it out of the forest early afternoon. A couple of hours later, they paused for supper. They didn’t build a fire, only pulling out bread, salted meat, and cheese to make sandwiches, which they could have done without having to stop and dismount, but there was another purpose.

“Come and eat, Scar,” Mumbo invited from where he sat in the circle of friends. Only Scar stood outside that circle, pretending to fuss over his horse while Jellie sat on his shoulder.

“No, thank you, not hungry,” Scar answered, his voice higher pitched than normal and quaking through a fake smile. He still wouldn’t look at them.

“Oh, but I made a sandwich for you, specifically.” Mumbo held it up as proof.

“Thanks, but you go on ahead. Enjoy yourselves. I’m really not hungry.”

Impulse, Pearl, and Mumbo exchanged looks. Impulse stood. “Scar,” he said, stepping towards him. “Come and join us. We need to talk.”

“That’s kinda what I’m scared of,” he admitted weakly, his shaking worse and his smiling more fierce.

He jumped as Impulse laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. He involuntarily spun to see not only Impulse standing there, but Mumbo and Pearl walking over to join them. He never felt more exposed than he did then, with those six eyes fastened on him.

“None of us,” Impulse said gently, “blame you for what happened.”

Scar stared at them. “Whoa, whoa, hold on,” he said as walked through them to get away, his suppressed despair rising to the surface. “What do you mean, not blame me?” He rounded on them. “I nearly killed Grian!” he shouted in horror, pacing. “And I enjoyed it! It was fun! And I was going to kill you, Impulse!” he yelled, pointing. “I only didn’t because I wanted to toy with you! And killing Grian seemed more important. Wasn’t I supposed to be kicked out of the order if I turn on any of you in a feral fit?” he reminded them, almost accusingly.

They were silent for a moment. Scar was the newest member of the Boatem Order, and have only been with them a few months. They recalled how, at the first, when none of them knew him very well except as an ex-thief who may or may not have enjoyed his vex-born powers a little too much, they had placed that probationary condition down.

“We didn’t think about that,” Mumbo confessed. “But …”

But before he could continue, Scar continued his guilt-stricken rant, saying all the things he had been brooding on throughout the day as he paced. “If I was a decent human being, I would have left already, but I … you know, I should just go ahead and put my head on a chopping block and let you all take turns whacking, except Grian’s not awake yet, and he ought to have the first swing, and…”

“Okay, stop right there,” Pearl said sternly, getting in Scar’s way. Her imposing look down on him somehow stopped his rambling. “It wasn’t your fault, and we are not kicking you out, and we are definitely not going to execute you, so stop.”

“What … h-how is it not my fault?” he stammered, “I remember it all … I lost control … you weren’t there …”

Mumbo put an arm around Scar’s shoulders and led him toward where they had been eating. “First, sit down and eat,” he said, placing the sandwich in Scar’s numb hands. “We’ll explain everything in a minute.”

Scar let himself be pulled down to sit, and he dumbly watched as Impulse and Pearl both sat down comfortably with him. She picked up her sandwich, and he his plate of plain meat, cheese, and bread, and they continued eating, themselves.

Numbly, Scar raised the sandwich and took a bite, and slowly started to chew.

None of the nightmares he had anticipated happened. He had been dreading talking to them, his friends. He had imagined, over and over and over, all of the horrible things they should say to him. He had tormented himself with thoughts of being alone again, this time permanently, with no hope for redemption. Hadn’t he already known that would have to happen when he first decided to claim Vex powers? The feel of the shuddering impact up his arm as crimson mist and wooden shards sprayed from the side of Grian’s head, and the easy weight of the avian’s limp body slapping the ground, and the euphoric glee he felt, and the brave desperation in Impulse’s eyes; these haunted him. He deserved to be beaten and banished, at the very least. He had been trying so hard to get ready for that fate.

He swallowed his bite. His friends were sitting with him, — comfortably, peacefully — sharing food with him, with no hint of condemnation.

The relief and mercy was too much. The sobs rose unbidden from the depths of his soul. His throat was painfully tight as the fear and the tension and despair forced its way out. He cried and cried, unable to eat, curling himself around his cuddling kitty, his eyes shut tight as he let it all out. Impulse and Mumbo each wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Pearl came over to lay a hand on his trembling head. “We’re here for you,” Pearl said tenderly. “We’ll pull through this together. It’ll be okay.”

When Scar was done, he wiped his face. “You guys are too nice,” he said, wolfing down the sandwich. “Is there any more?”

Mumbo offered him his own half-eaten sandwich, and Scar devoured that, too. Then he took a deep, trembling breath and slowly let it out, calming. “Okay, so .. why don’t you guys blame me? I most definitely lost control out of the blue there. It … caught me by surprise, actually.”

Pearl nodded. “We’ll get to that, but first, I want got know something. Do you remember what happened just before … it happened?”

Scar tried to recall, and the guilt welled up again. “Is Grian okay?” he asked, needing to have this cleared up. Then he noticed Pearl’s bruised cheek. “Hey, what happened to your face?”

She nodded again. “I’m getting to that, too. Yes, Grian’s okay; another healing session or two and he’ll be back to normal. But was there anything unusual that happened just before you went feral?”

“Just a whistle,” said Scar. “It was pretty loud. I thought you or Impulse were calling us. Then Jellie left …”

Impulse shook his head. “We didn’t whistle for you two. I didn’t hear a whistle, either.”

Pearl snapped her fingers. “He had one!” she exclaimed, her eyes bright. She looked over to Impulse and Mumbo. “The man in green, he had a whistle on him. He was blowing it when I first spotted him.”

Mumbo raised his eyebrows like an idea had just popped into his head. “Brilliant! That’ll be easy to handle.”

“What man in green?” Scar asked, clearly lost.

“When you went feral, I went after Jellie. I knew returning her would be the only way to wake you back up, you see, so I had to go get her. Well, I found a man in green watching you, blowing a whistle. I had a fight with him,” she said, pointing to her cheek, “and he was pretty good. He had a weapon — or armor, I can’t tell what it was, originally — that changed shaped instantly, so it was kinda tough. But at the end, he suddenly looked at you all, got scared about something, pulled a blue box out of his pocket and broke it, and Jellie popped out! That was when he sicced a creeper on me (of all things!), and…”

“A creeper?!”

She nodded. “Yes, then he got away.”

“So you see,” Impulse said, “it wasn’t your fault at all. That man somehow triggered your transformation and kept you transformed until he let Jellie go.”

Scar stared incredulously at Impulse. “You mean, that guy … used me … as a weapon?” Scar questioned, terrified. “He used me to try to kill you all?”

“‘Fraid so,” he continued. “So now we need to figure out a way to keep him from doing that again. We don’t know why he attacked or why he stopped, but we’re pretty positive that he’ll be back.”

Scar was barely listening, his easily-read face full of dread. “I’d better go,” he said. “If that guy can make me attack you all again … yeah, I’d better just go.” He started to rise, but both Mumbo and Impulse tightened their grips around his shoulders. He struggled to get loose, feeling a panic rising up inside. “What are you guys doing? I’m too dangerous to keep around, idiots!”

“We figured you’d react this way,” Mumbo said, struggling a bit to keep his grip on Scar, “and we already wondered about what we can do if he comes back, but knowing about the whistle is a big help. If you hear a whistle that none of us can, you hold on to Jellie while the rest of us get away like normal.”

“That works,” Impulse said approvingly, holding on relatively easily.

“Why?” Scar yelled at them. “Why are you keeping me around? I’m too dangerous!”

“You’re our friend, Scar,” Pearl said. “And, for all we know, maybe the man in green is after you. No way we’ll split up if we can help it.”

“We now have a better idea of what we’re dealing with, and, against my better judgement, I trust you,” Impulse added impishly. “We are almost at Cub’s house, too. With him having Vex powers, too, maybe he can help us.”

“You leave, and we’ll chase you down,” Mumbo promised.

Scar gave up. “You’re all fools,” he observed, smiling. “Every last one of you.”

Impulse grinned. “And you fit right in.”

The rest of supper was kept lighthearted. The friends exchanged jokes, shared stories, and Scar almost felt okay again, except for the hole that Grian left behind. In spite of Pearl’s assurances, Scar felt uneasy. He looked once over at where Grian slept — secured in the carrier behind his horse, his head heavily bandaged — and he felt sick.

They all decided that they weren’t going to camp for another night out in the open — the possibility of another attack was too great — and instead push on through the night until they reached their friend Cub’s home. Pearl sent a moth ahead let Cub know to leave a lantern on for them. This time as they rode along, Scar guided Grian’s horse while Pearl took the front, Mumbo followed her, and Impulse took up the rear.

They didn’t get far before Scar heard it: another whistle. It was shrill, coming from right behind him.

“AHHH!” Scar screamed, letting go of the reins and grabbing ahold of his blue cat. “I hear the whistle, guys! Stay with me, Jellie!” He closed his eyes and braced himself, squishing his cat.

Grian’s horse kept walking. Jellie meowed in protest. Up ahead, Scar heard Mumbo call back, “I heard the whistle, too.”

Then Scar heard laughter right beside him. It was very weak, broken, pathetic laughter, coming from the carrier, punctuated with little “ow”s.

“Grian!” Scar yelled, his face turning red. “You … you … you …”

“You … screamed … so loud,” Grian wheezed, smiling, his eyes staying shut. “Ow … Laughing … hurts.”

“Serves you right! How long have you been awake?”

“You were alll … so loud. … It hurt … my head.”

Impulse smiled down as he rode up and Mumbo and Pearl circled back. “Good evening, Grian.”

“Evening?”

“I actually didn’t expect you to wake up at all today.”

“Bumpy … road … hurts.”

Pearl whispered a spell into her hand, and a pale moth appeared there. The moth settled down onto Grian’s face. “Go back to sleep,” she said gently, in her soft, sultry voice, “you naughty stinker.” A moment later, soft snores rose up from the litter.

Feeling so much better than they thought possible, considering the circumstances, they all rode on, feeling hopeful again.

#soft #sultry voice #I cringed so hard writing this. So much sap.#Daughter helped me by adding for me #applestruda #boatem knights au #grian hermitcraft #impulse hermittcraft #mumbo hermitcraft #pearl hermitcraft #impulsesv #mumbo jumbo #pearlecentmoon #hermitcraft #was he too easily forgiven?#is the emotional damaged actually fixed?

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7thbutterflyofspring · 3 years ago

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It’s here baby! I officially present to you:

The HC x DSMP Swap Survey Results

Part 1! Like it says in the slides, this survey was too long to put in a single post. Hold tight, it should be fully posted in a couple minutes

#disclaimer: I don't actually know that much about either dsmp or hermitcraft #take everything I say here with a grain of salt #and pleas be forgiving if i mix up events and/or say things that don't make sense #with that out of the way:#Impulse is often portrayed as a demon Jack clawed his way back up from hellmakes sense #kinda sad bdubs isn't tubbo #not only would that mean he'd be married to etho #but from what I've heard 'character who managed to get access to nukes and seems way too eager to use them' would fit his character #pearl as phil I think makes sense #phil is the father figure #but that doesn't stop him from being chaotic #pearl was the most responsible member of boatem #and the one the others turned to when they died and needed help getting their stuff back #but she was still a member of boatem #which I think speaks for itself #from what I've heard of joehills and connoreatspants I'm surprised that result was so uncertain #they both have a 'this is a fairly normal day in 21st century america' vibe #which is jarring when they're in fantasy world where america doesn't even exist #on joehill's part that might just be present in fanfics and not the dude's steams themselves #but from what I have heard of him I doubt the writers of those fanfics are pulling that from nowhere

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theminecraftbee · 3 years ago

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The five members of Boatem drift through the void. They are surrounded by Uno cards that have been bent and torn into a million attempts to build plans. A dragon is curled up in Pearl's hood. Helmets are piled in the middle of the five of them. In a set of ordinary playing cards that Scar had revealed after they'd run out of cards for him to try to build trees with, there are abandoned maps and plans for leaving. There's an exhaustion in the bones of this place, alongside frantic attempts to stay awake and from getting so bored they lost themselves entirely. There's something almost despairing, about the attempts to build with only the scraps they'd had on hand. There's something terrifying, about a circle of ten people, built out of nothingness and terror these days. There's -

"Three points," Pearl says.

"What? No, those are the same ones that were there earlier," Grian says.

"No, no, they're new ones. See, the void's shaped differently around them," Pearl says. "They move differently."

Grian squints, the void twisting around his vision. "Uh. No, they definitely look like the same guys to me. I mean, I know defining them as separate from the void's actually a whole thing, but I think they haven't actually moved, and -"

"I think I get three more points."

"You absolutely don't."

"Hold on, I can arbitrate," Scar says brightly.

"No, you can't!" says Grian, throwing his hands up. "Because you'll give them to Pearl!"

"There are definitely new cows there," Scar says sagely.

"There are not!"

The five members of Boatem drift through the void, doing the same thing they've always done: being incredibly petty to each other. Honestly, Grian thinks he should be proud.

"Look, fine, then we should get Impulse in on the arbitration too," Pearl says. Grian scoffs loudly. "Oh, come on, he doesn't have that much of a bias for me! Didn't he do several whole things with you, too? You two have known each other longer!"

"I'm just saying, if you're getting Impulse, who will agree with you, and Scar, who just wants me to lose, involved, I should get Mumbo involved," Grian says. "The stakes are high this round, after all."

"Your head will make my base beautiful," Pearl says primly.

"I think you mean your head," Grian says.

"You wish. I just got two points up," Pearl says.

"No you didn't! Mumbo!" Grian says. "Mumbo, tell her that those aren't three new cows, that they're the same cows as before."

Mumbo is quiet.

"Mumbo?"

"Is it just me," Mumbo says, and then he stops. He swallows. "Grian, is it just me, or do you - feel? See? I don't know? I mean, I don't think I really see yet, I think... I don't know what I'm saying."

Grian turns and looks where Mumbo is. There's nothing there. Grian breathes out, and stops bothering to pretend to look at things that make sense in a human way, stops pretending to be human for a moment, and just tries to feel.

He feels... hungry. Empty, and hungry, and like he is reaching, reaching, reaching, a yawning abyss in the him that is the void that is nothing that is made of emptiness that wants to fill it that wants to eat that which falls into him that -

He stops after a moment and looks back to Mumbo. "...yeah. Yeah, there is something, isn't there?"

Mumbo nods.

"I spotted it before Pearl," Grian says on instinct.

"What?" Pearl says, furious.

"I saw it before Pearl, so that's points to me," he says.

"Whatever it is isn't a cow!" Pearl says. "Excuse me, you don't get points you, you nugget! Just because it's something strange doesn't make it points in the game!"

"Maybe that's a graveyard, and he gets to wipe all of your points," Impulse says.

"Who's side are you on?" Pearl asks.

Impulse shrugs. "No one's? I'm busy building little houses, see, I'm undecided on my base floorplan. Do you think people would want iTrade again? I think I could do iTrade again. Would you want to live in iTrade?"

"Nevermind," Pearl says. "Scar."

Scar has a very particular kind of pained expression on his face, and that's when Grian knows he has him. Grian says, softly: "I know you want an excuse for Pearl to kill me, but she'll definitely kill me if I beat her in this game this thoroughly." He smiles a little wider. "And, Scar, don't you think it would be funnier if we counted whatever that thing is as a graveyard? I mean, we'd been arguing about how the cow game didn't have a pretty fundamental game piece, and now we have one! When a, uh, whatever that is..."

"A meal," Mumbo says, sounding vaguely nauseous.

"Yeah, no, we aren't calling it that. A graveyard," Grian says. "Since, you know, that's what it'll be in the cow game."

"Hm," Scar says.

"There's no reason it should be anything special. Also, Mumbo told him about it, which I think makes it cheating, Scar," Pearl says.

"Oh, I don't mind cheating," Scar says.

"He doesn't," says Grian.

"Fine. But still, Scar, if you let Grian make this arbitrary rule, you know he will in games he plays against you next season. Given that I'm sure Grian's planning Tag again, do you really want to give him the ability to change the rules on the fly?"

"I would never," Grian says, genuinely offended.

"Hm. You have a point as well," Scar says. "...which one of you wants to help me build my tree more? Best offer gets to decide what we're doing about this."

Before either of them can make an argument, Pancake pokes her head up from inside of Pearl's hoodie. The dragon screeches, a sound that sounds more like shattering glass and metal scraping against metal than it does properly sound like a dragon cry. Grian grimaces. He reaches out again, trying to sense what it is that Pancake is screeching about, and then he stops.

There's a figure in a suit. It reminds Grian of the suits they'd used, only there's what seems to be a long cord attached to it, reaching so far out that Grian can't tell where it leads anymore. Also, Grian notes a bit drily, he doesn't think the zipper the figure is wearing has air gaps, the way their zippers had. But it's unmistakably meant to protect them from the void, protect them long enough to get past the impersonal void that wants to eat them, to the void that has personal reasons to feel hungry.

And Grian feels hungry. And he feels desperate. But more than he feels any of those things, he feels -

He feels like he can't breathe. Which is silly. He doesn't need to anymore. All the same, he feels like there's no air in his lungs. The playing cards and cow game and helmets and even the cows and the feeling of being inhuman and everything feels... embarrassing. Empty. Meaningless.

The figure looks forward through their visor and no one speaks, for a bit.

Then, Scar speaks: "...Iskall?"

"Scar?" says the figure, unmistakably Iskall, and Grian starts laughing, and laughing, and he's not able to focus enough to make it come out of him like it should a human. He has never been happier to hear his fellow Architech in his life. "No, not Scar! A... get back, thingy! Where's my friends, huh?"

"No, Iskall," says Mumbo. "It's us. Can't you see? Iskall -"

"They're supposed to be near here, according to Cub's math. So where are you?"

"We're right here!" Scar says. "No no no, we're right here, come on Iskall, what are you even doing here?"

Iskall stares right at them, shuddering. "Where?" he asks.

"We're," starts Grian, and he looks at the cows that he and Pearl had been counting a moment ago. "We're. Right here. It's a long story. I'll come over. I'll..."

Grian goes to Iskall. He starts trying a bit harder to look human, but he's not sure how to do that for Iskall. As he moves, he sees Iskall and Scar start to frantically collect floating playing cards, as though cleaning up. Pearl is holding Pancake so tightly that the dragon might burst. Mumbo hasn't moved in what feels like several minutes.

"We're... what do you see?" Grian asks.

"A monster of the void, but you sound like Grian," Iskall says. "And if I squint, you sort of look like him, I guess. But you're hard to look at, dude."

"You believe me?"

"I sort of have to. If I don't, I think those helmets I see would mean you're dead, and, Grian, I don't want you to be..."

"Okay," says Grian, because he's not sure how to respond to that at all. "That's - it didn't matter anymore, okay? But we aren't dead."

(Well. It's a difficult semantic argument. Once they're out of here, Grian will get them all together with Zedaph and Ren and they'll argue about what death means until they run out of ways to argue about it. They'll argue if what's happened to them killed them meaningfully, or if there's a meaning to being alive, or. But that's not what Iskall needs to hear right now, and it's not what Grian needs to say, either.)

"Sure," Iskall says.

"Sure," Grian repeats.

"I'm supposed to come down here and get you all," Iskall says.

"Our valiant rescue," Grian says. "What's the damage?"

"Three months," Iskall says.

"You're lying," Impulse says from behind Grian, and oh. They're all collected right here now.

"I..." Iskall shakes. Iskall looks away. "Sorry. It makes me sick, looking at all of you. Is it all of you? Something about it..."

"It can't have been three months," Mumbo says.

"How long are you thinking it was?"

Everyone's quiet for a while. It hits Grian that he has no idea how to contextualize any of this to Iskall. Three months feels wrong, though. Maybe it's too long? But that doesn't seem right. Maybe it's too short? No, that's... all Grian knows is that three months is wrong. It can't be right. He's not sure what number he expected to hear, but three months is...

"So it's March?" Pearl says. "It doesn't feel like March."

"True, it doesn't," Scar says.

"Guys," Iskall says. "Can you - one at a time - my head."

"Oh," Scar says, very quietly, and then they're all quiet. It takes Grian a moment to realize he's been put in charge of continuing the conversation he started.

"Well, I guess it's March," Grian says. "Um. If you're here to get us..."

"I tug on this, it pulls us all up. Here's a hand," Iskall says, and Grian steps back, trying to gesture for someone else to take it first. He has a strong desire to - to grab, to, to... he's not sure. But the part of Grian that loves Iskall knows he can't take Iskall's hand.

No one grabs Iskall's hand.

Iskall frowns. "Dudes, don't be like that. I don't bite."

Before Grian can say anything, Iskall screws his eyes closed and he reaches to grab Grian.

The hand goes right through, and suddenly Grian feels - he is empty, and there is a gap, and he needs to fill it, and something in him pulls, and Iskall screams.

Someone else moves before Grian does. He feels, rather than sees, Pearl surround him, and yank him away from Iskall. He feels, rather than sees, someone yank violently on the connection Iskall has to the surface. Iskall is still screaming and Grian is hungry and Grian is lonely and Grian is desperate and Grian is horrified. He didn't know he would - but he hadn't want to take - but he hadn't known. He hadn't - of course he would, though. Hadn't they established what they were? Hadn't they established - they are the void, and when the void touches a player, it does one thing only, and when a player touches the void - hadn't they established? Hadn't they, hadn't they...

And Iskall is gone and Grian's still not quite sure what happened.

"I sent him back up," Impulse says, finally.

"That's... good. He probably just broke his suit," Scar says, finally. "Given the screaming. We don't want him..."

"No, we don't," agrees Impulse.

"What now?" Pearl asks.

"I didn't mean to," Grian says, and Pearl sighs.

"You didn't do anything," she says quietly.

"They know where we are," Impulse says. "It'll..."

"We can't touch them," Grian says.

"We'll figure it out," Mumbo says, because that's all he can say.

They're all still gathered around the spot Iskall was. Grian realizes he's lost track of his score in the cow game again. Graveyard. All of the cows, gone. Pearl's graveyard, he thinks distantly, not his. She wins after all.

"...we'll take each other's heads," Pearl says.

"Okay," Grian says. "Obviously, that's the important part of all of this. Obviously, that's..."

"Yeah," Pearl says. "Don't worry about it."

Slowly, they return to the cards that are still floating, and while they've been floating in an infinite void, it's never felt more like a tiny box, looking back at it then. Still, they've got to get ready.

Grian picks up his useless helmet, turns it over in his hands, and puts it on. Best not to litter, for when they leave, he thinks, and he resolutely doesn't think about any other option.

#hermitcraft #the continued adventures of the boatem road trip #this one's a long one. we're in the finale proper now!#this has been about how i've planned it for a while #either one or two installments later depends on whether i can wrap them up in enough time #yes i know i've been saying that for several posts now but this time i MEAN IT #...probably.#cosmic horror #existential horror #that's right guys the horror elements are back! time for some ~*consequences*`~#anyway i'm on a brainwave would you believe i wrote this to mad rat monday

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shepard-ram · 3 years ago

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Forever Bound [Yan!Grian x Reader Soulmate Au]

Angst, Requested? More like suggested: Expanded version of this drabble I made a little while back. @nixoxia asked if I could make a full fic and even though requests are officially closed I was more than willing to expand on the vague ideas I had. Tw: Yandere, manipulation, possessive behavior, exactly one swear word the set-up is a tad longer than usual lol

----------

You, like most people, dreamt of the day you met the love of your life. However in your dimension it manifested in a much more concrete way.

In some worlds, soulmates are a figure of speech. Fluffy, romanticized language.

In yours? They are a scientific fact. Well, magic might be closer to the correct term, but those two words are mashed together for you anyways.

You loved soulmates beyond expression. You often glanced down at the inside of your wrist. Like nearly everyone you were born with a simply, perfectly printed sentence. That mystical tattoo foretold a beautiful part of a person's destiny. The very first words your soulmate will say to you.

You adored your quote, it was your security blanket. A letter from your older self. One telling your past self that, "Don't worry, you'll meet the one. Just be patient." What your mark literally said was also a sort of promise to you. One that you loved just as much as the idea of your future life partner.

"So you're my forever."

In your head the vague mystery voice saying it was in awe. It was obvious that you will talk to them first, causing them to match your words to the ones on their wrist. Getting them to fully register you, that you will be the one they'll love for the rest of their days. The voice in your head was already smitten. You played the encounter back over and over, for years you yearned about this meeting.

Turns out, you were fairly right.

This truly was a new era of your life. You knew that before you properly met him. It wasn't everyday you were being welcomed as one of three new members to such an amazing server. Yes, becoming a hermit and settling down a little ways away from a few other's settlements was enough to brand this week as a massive personal turning point.

Then you decided to introduce yourself to your neighbors.

They were a colorful bunch, they all were. The Octagon, the Big-Eyes Crew, all of them. It was a very entertaining day, even just touring what will soon become masterpieces of architecture and chatting was one of the many highlights of the first few days here. All things considered you were excited to move onto the next group, Boatem.

You were a tad more nervous to talk to them then the other groups you introduced yourself to. Partly because they were the biggest community at the moment at a whopping five members. (Which to be fair was about a fifth of the server)

But that aside, you couldn't help believing that something else was contributing to your apprehension. It felt too heavy to only be caused only by meeting two more people at once. It was tempting to go with your gut and leave this particular encounter for a later date, yet you decided to betray your subconscious instincts and continue on your way. You could always just back out early if something went wrong, what's the worst that could happen?

You could've never expected this to happen.

You knew vaguely of Grian, like most of the others. You had caught glimpses of him at the very start of the season when everyone was clustered together, partly to meet you and the other two newbies. You didn't share any words directly addressed to each other yet, and nothing about him stood out to you in that chaotic grouping. Sure if you gave it any thought you would admit that he's pretty cute, but you weren't really focused on any one person in that moment.

This was different.

He was the first member of Boatem that you were able to find. In this isolated occasion you were able to fully register him and him alone, ignoring how that only mounded onto the anxiousness building inside of you.

Digging in a few chests infront of what must be the begining of a starter base, he wasn't aware of your presence. He didn't look too different, the most interesting observation being the tiny wings starting to sprout from his back. Specifically the feathers of a scarlet macaw, if your memory was serving you right. Likely a measure to make sure he wasn't able to fly before elytras started circulating. You could only imagine what they'll look like fully formed.

Before you could give it any more thought you realized how creepy just standing there and staring probably looked, so you finally gave yourself one last internal pep-talk and walked up to the man somehow still rummaging through whatever mess he already managed to make of his "storage system". One hand proping up the lid of a chest while the other shifts through its contents.

"Uh... hi, you're Grian right?" You would've mentally hit yourself for that totally smooth introduction if his reaction didn't startle you. The parrot hybrid let out a surprised yelp as he tore the hand holding up the chest's lid away from it, pulling it to his body. Promptly causing the lid to fall onto his other arm. By the time he had turned around to see you, you were infront of him to make sure he wasn't hurt too badly.

"Oh my God are you okay?! I didn't mean to scare you!" You quickly spat out trying to see if there were any visible signs of injuries on either of his arms. Perhaps rather unnervingly, he was just staring at you with a far off expression. "Uh... are you okay?" You added again.

"So you're my forever."

Immediately it felt like your wrist was being scorched. The pain was so sudden and strong that only after it passed two or three seconds later were you able to process what he said. When your mind cleared from the pain and you were left holding your no longer hellfire-gripped arm you looked at your soulmark.

It was red now.

Then you both made proper eye contact for the first time.

Holy shit.

Within the next week every single hermit had gotten news of your connection. It was like you had just gotten engaged, congratulations for simply meeting was given to you by everyone. Admittedly, it was sudden and weird. You barely knew who Grian was. He was a parrot hybrid known for building, that was the extent of it. Now you had been swiftly casted into being the defacto "Till death do us part" couple. But you're soulmates, you'll get used to it. You'll love him.

...Right?

However, the bliss of finding the one person you'll be able to depend on for the rest of your life outweighed most of the resistance your own heart had. It helped that your soulmate seemed to feel the complete opposite. He practically latched himself to your side. You couldn't blame him, hell it was endearing.

He acted exactly like how you thought you would act. As you quickly learned, he adored pet names. Darling, honey, my dear, my sweet, my love- My...

Mine

Mine.

How had you not understood sooner.

You weren't sure how long it had been since you met. Boatem had six members now, you haven't returned to what was going to be your base. You were helping Grian make some buildings in the alley, if anyone asked where your base was he you would point to the star filled cave. Barely a hour passed without him in your line of sight.

You wanted to confront him about calming down, giving you room to breathe.

"But we're soulmates, this is who we are. Please my love, just give it some more time. I promise you'll be happy." He pleaded. You believed him. After all, he loved you. He wouldn't do anything that could hurt you.

Right?

His wings have fully grown in. Gaint, sharp sheets of red and yellow and blue sturdy enough to not only allow him to glide, but skillfully fly without the need for rockets. Neither of you had elytras, he was more than strong enough to carry you through the air. Why would you need wings of your own? Why would you need what was practically a necessary for travel here?

Why would you need a source of freedom?

He was destined to be your one and only, he was destined to be your number two. He was destined to be your ride or die. He was your soulmate. Why were you pushing back against his companionship? You were built for each other.

This is what soulmates are. Two people merging their lives into an unseparatable sludge. That was his view of it anyways. Your lives were ment to be one, completely indistinguishable.

So stop talking to people that he wasn't.

Stop visiting places he wasn't.

Stop leaving the base without telling him.

Stop being anything other than his soulmate.

Finding your soulmate was supposed to fulfill a person. Make them complete. Make them love the idea of living forever with someone just as much as they loved that someone themself.

Soulmates were supposed to make people happy.

But you weren't happy.

...

Maybe... maybe if go along with this all for just a little longer... maybe you'll learn to be happy with your forever. Maybe this forever will end, and the better one will present itself. One where you can still be with your soulmate. After all, nothing lasts forever.

...Right?

#Shepard ram writes #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #hermitcraft x reader #hc x reader #tw. yandere #c: grian #grian x reader

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redwinterroses · 3 years ago

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Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! My gift to you: a warm and cozy Scar fic. (We're pretending the moon didn't come down before Christmas, or maybe going with the idea that in Minecraft years s8 was about 40 years long ;P)

Enjoy!!

__________________

Hermitcraft could be very stressful.

Scar was very well aware of this. The push to get builds done in a timely fashion, and videos recorded and edited and uploaded, and still have time to sleep and eat and maybe hang out with friends around the Boatem Hole of an evening… it could be a lot. A lot of impossible, to be exact. And near the holidays was always worse—Sometimes Scar could go days without seeing any of the other Boatem members except as they zipped overhead or dashed past him into the Nether.

Scar felt the strain in himself, too. It had been a long couple of months, working on his most recent build. He hadn’t had a proper chill-out day with Grian in weeks, and had barely seen Pearl since the last Boatem meeting.

He glanced up from the blueprints he was working on and caught a glimpse of Impulse trudging across the common area, a loaded shulker under one arm and his communicator open. He nearly walked straight into the Boatem Hole, focusing so intently on his screen—but looked up just in time, jumping back as if stung by a bee.

Scar chuckled, but it was more in sympathy than amusement. It was hard to be “on” all the time—especially these days. Ever since they’d moved to Boatem, there had been the ever-present understanding that any other hermit might be recording at any given moment, so better have your best hat on and your public speaking voice ready!

He loved it, don’t misunderstand. It was just… exhausting. And he could tell it was wearing on the others too. There really wasn’t ever a time or a place to turn off. To just be themselves. When everything is content… nothing is an escape.

Scar tapped the end of his pencil against the desk, resting his hand on his chin. And to top it all off, Christmas was less than two weeks away and he still had no idea what he was doing for anyone in Boatem.

Xisuma was simple—a nice card and a box of chocolates every year, and he was happy. Bdubs and Scar had been trading back and forth the same hideous Christmas sweater for two seasons now and this year Scar was going to wrap it in fourteen layers of packaging just for the fun of watching Bdubs struggle to unwrap it. Most other hermits just got cards or random boxes of things Scar knew they needed—though this year he might throw in some coupons for the Swaggon and call it done.

But Boatem was different. These were his closest neighbors and some of his best friends, and he wanted to do something special. He glanced down and realized his tapping had left a wandering line of pencil marks across the blueprint. Almost like a connect-the-dots puzzle. Idly, he traced across them, turning it into a rough wagon track behind the largest of the Swaggons.

If only there was a way to give the Boatem crew more time. Or at least some rest. He could break out his magic crystals again, but none of them really believed in that and half the magic came from believing it worked. So that was a bust. And outside hitting them all with a weakness potion and dragging them off somewhere to be locked up until they slept (which was certainly an option but probably not a great thing to do to your friends) he struggled to think of anything that would…

Scar paused, tilting his head to the side. His top hat slid a bit, and he caught it, readjusting the brim more securely over his forehead.

Kidnapping was… probably a bad idea. But dragging them off to an undisclosed location… That had a certain potential. In a definitely, entirely, non-supervillain-y way.

He swept various pens and pencils to the side of the desk, rolling up the swaggon blueprint and setting it aside. Spreading his hands across the fresh sheet of paper beneath, he chewed at his lip and hmmed to himself. Images and ideas started to drift through his mind’s eye, and a slow grin grew across his face.

Yes… yes indeed. This might just be his most perfect Christmas present yet.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Scar, where are you taking us?”

Grian’s voice held just a hint of exasperation, but that was probably more because of the hole he’d stepped into a second ago than any real irritation. Scar reached up and patted Grian’s hand on his shoulder.

“You just keep that blindfold on and trust old Scar,” he said, beaming. “Have I ever led you astray?”

“You literally just led me into a hole.”

Scar ignored that, glancing back to check in on the other Boatem members following in single file behind him. Each had a blindfold tied over their eyes—it was absurd, honestly, how trusting they still were, but he wasn’t complaining—and their hands on the shoulders of the hermit in front of them: Grian behind Scar, then Pearl, then Mumbo, and Impulse bringing up the rear.

“Scar, if this is a prank, you really should have let us empty our inventories first,” Pearl said. She was smiling, but then: Pearl was always smiling. Whether from happiness or mischief, she always sounded like she was on the edge of a laugh.

“It’s not a prank!” Scar protested, leading them down the narrow path. “Not this time, anyway. Okay—I’m stopping. Nobody’s recording, right? No recording allowed for the Scarmas Extravaganza.”

“Left my camera at home,” Pearl assured him.

“Same,” Mumbo agreed. Impulse nodded, and Grian didn’t say anything but Scar could deal with that later if he needed to. He knew Grian would understand, once he saw what the surprise was.

Reaching off the side of the path with his cane, Scar hit a button hidden in the long grass, and the sounds of pistons firing and blocks being shoved into place filled the air.

“Scar!” Mumbo exclaimed, sounding incredulous. “Did I just hear a piston door?”

“That you did, my dear Mumbo Jumbo,” Scar said, pleased. “And it leads downward, so watch your step.”

“Hard to do that with blindfolds on…” he heard Impulse mutter from the back, but they all followed him down the stairway and he didn’t hear too much tripping. At the bottom of the stairs, he flicked a lever that closed the opening at the surface, silently making a note to thank Cub again for the door.

“Okay, just a little further!” Scar led them into the main room, and stopped. “Don’t open your eyes, but I’m going to just… kinda move you into the best viewing position, okay? Gotta get that perfect first impression, ya know?” He tugged each of his friends to stand in a half-circle facing into the room, the grin on his face threatening to crack his cheeks. His hands were a little shaky with the excitement, and he stood back, grabbing his hat off his head to clutch in both hands.

“Right!” he said. “You can take off the blindfolds!”

Grian was the first to whip his off, and Scar was gratified to see his friend’s mouth drop open in surprise.

“Scar!” Grian turned in a small circle, taking in his surroundings. “This is—what is this?”

The others removed their blindfolds as well, and Scar watched proudly as they oooh-ed and aaaah-ed at what he’d built.

It wasn’t a large space, but it was open and had a high ceiling that made it feel larger than it was. A sunken firepit took up the center of the room, surrounded by low couches piled with blankets and cushions, with spruce pillars holding up an oak roof. Lanterns provided warm light, and the corners held various book-nooks, desk crannies, and cushy armchairs with their own end-rod lamps. Barrels full of snacks stood next to a small cooking setup along the far wall, and he’d even installed a floor-to-ceiling aquarium, lit with sea lanterns and sporting a couple of darting axolotls. Copper details and a grandfather clock in one corner finished out the room, and the entire place had a cozy, sit-and-stay-awhile vibe.

Scar suddenly felt a little shy. “Do you like it?”

“Like it?” Mumbo flopped into one of the couches, pillows tumbling on top of him. “Scar, this is amazing.”

Impulse ran a hand along the top of a bookshelf, rubbing his thumb against the smooth grain. “It’s really awesome,” he agreed. “But… Why all the secrecy, Scar?”

Scar sank into an armchair, resting his hands on the top of his cane and his chin on top of his hands. “Because we need a place that’s just for us,” he said. “Where we never have to worry about being on camera, or someone else turning up and wanting to do a quick collab, or making sure we don’t spoil anything… this is a camera-free zone. The Not-Content Room. Just for vibin’, ya know?” He nodded at one corner, grinning. “I even brought down a vibe machine.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s that creepy disk—” Pearl groaned.

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” Scar laughed at her expression. “I kid, I kid. I’ve got the whole collection in there. Had to buy a few from other hermits, but should be anything you might want to listen to.”

“This is brilliant, Scar,” Grian said. He plopped down on the arm of Scar’s chair and ruffled his hair affectionately. “And I’ll delete the footage I got on the way over here.”

“Grian!” Mumbo popped his head up over the back of the couch and gave him a chiding look.

Scar just laughed. “Oh, I knew he was recording. To be honest… I probably would have done the same thing.”

“Never trust a Scar, that’s what I say.” Grian leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms behind his head. “Still not entirely convinced this place isn’t rigged with TnT.”

“It crossed my mind, it crossed my mind.” Scar tapped the floor with his cane. “Just don’t go through the floor. There’s a ravine underneath and I didn’t light anything up.”

“Wouldn’t be a Scar build without a mob farm.” Pearl popped a disk into the jukebox and hit the power button. The soft sounds of the new Otherside album filled the air, and the Boatem crew settled in to enjoy the Scarmas Extravaganza.

Which. Now that he thought about it, was probably too dramatic of a name for a place designed specifically to not be dramatic, but… He had to stay on-brand, right? Scar chuckled to himself and sat back to watch his friends explore the bookshelves, the stash of board games, and the snacks he’d squirrelled away.

“Merry Christmas, Scar,” Grian said beside him. He gave his friend a nudge. “And thanks.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Grian.” Scar gave a contented sigh. “And you’re very, very welcome.”

#redwinterwrites #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft #grian #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #boatem village my beloved #fun fact: I started writing this for the last Scar Appreciation Day and just didn't get it finished #so here you go for Christmas!

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words-with-wren · 3 years ago

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Go the **** to sleep

Phantom Hybrid Bdubs is not a fan of how Boatem is dealing with the moon problem.

___

Big Eye Bay was a reasonably peaceful place on the Hermitcraft server- in the sense that Bdubs’ base mates usually got enough sleep. Sure, Tango sometimes got caught up in a new farm design, but usually, he only needed a few quiet reminders to head to bed at a semi-decent time, and Keralis was one of the few Hermits with a good sleep schedule, even if he sometimes stayed up later than Bdubs liked. Bdubs had long ago learned not to be picky - Hermits would be Hermits.

Even so, Big Eye Bay was calmer than last season. As much as Bdubs loved the guy, Doc was known to get caught up in a project and forget sleep was actually a thing. There had been a number of times when Bdubs had had to - slightly grumpily - remind his base buddy to go to sleep before the annoyance rippling under Bdubs’ skin turned into something more dangerous.

The annoyance had been bubbling up again recently, and Bdubs was finding it harder and harder to brush aside. The fact of the matter was that the moon was big, and his friends were worried. He understood that - even if he was resolutely ignoring the problem.

Unfortunately, his friends’ way of dealing with the problem was monitoring it. Which meant staying up late to track the moon’s path and growth. Which meant being tired.

And Bdubs hated it when his friends were tired.

He was lying on the nether portal hub he’d created in the bay, staring up at the sky. The sun was surprisingly warm for the time of year, and the peace of the waves below him and the slight rocking of the whole structure was enough to keep the rippling unease at bay for the moment.

And then the unease spiked, and despite himself, he snarled slightly, sitting up and lashing his tail. A burst of rockets sounded in the distance, and he could make out a figure flying over the mountain. It took Bdubs a moment to recognise him as Mumbo, though judging by the waves of exhaustion seeping from him, he would have guessed someone from Boatem.

Boatem had become intolerable to visit. They had all seemed that the best idea of dealing with their giant problem was to not sleep and it was driving Bdubs insane. He was sure he could feel their tiredness from across the island.

He took a deep breath and decided he should probably greet his fellow Hermit, maybe try to entice him into some sales. Business waited for no man - or moon - and if getting a sale from one of their top competitors was on the cards, Bdubs was willing to deal with a little annoyance.

If it stayed just annoyance. But it was the middle of the day, and Bdubs had been dealing with these instincts for as long as he could remember. So he spread his wings and began to glide towards the shore.

As a phantom hybrid, Bdubs was one of the few Hermits on the server who had built-in wings, and didn’t need to go hunting in the End for them. Unlike hybrids like Grian, his wings were part of his arms - large bat-like wings that stretched out where most Hermits had arms. They were about twice the size of most Hermits arms, and about halfway along Bdubs what one might call a hand - a few fingers that gave Bdubs the agility he needed when working on projects. The leather-like membrane of his wings stretched down his side, reaching to about his hip. It did mean he had to have specially tailored clothes, but the slight chill on his side he felt as he flew across the ocean was barely noticeable he was so used to it.

He also sported a long, leathery tail and small spikes along his spine - though luckily those he could hide under his hoodie - as well as long, sharp teeth.

He glided neatly to a land, folding his wings and crossing his arms as he made his way to where Mumbo was standing outside of Big Eye Rons. The Boatem member was looking a little out of it, his hair dishevelled and unkempt, dark bags under his eyes. Even if Bdubs wasn’t fidgeting at his very presence, he would have easily been able to tell how tired his friend was.

“Hey Mumbo!” he called, lifting a hand in greeting. Mumbo started, blinking and turning quickly to face Bdubs. “What’s up?”

“Uh - oh, I uh... I needed more.” Mumbo licked his lips nervously, shifting in place as he did. That wasn’t necessarily unusual for him, but today it rubbed Bdubs the wrong way and it took a lot of effort to not frown deeply. “I needed more… more iron, yeah.” Mumbo blinked and fought back a yawn and Bdubs clenched his fists.

“When was the last time you slept?” he asked, because he couldn’t not ask. Because if Mumbo stayed around here spewing his exhaustion everywhere Bdubs was going to lose it.

“Oh - can’t sleep,” Mumbo said. He rubbed his eye, then seemed to realise what he was doing and dropped his hand and grinned. “Gonna appease the mo-” He cut himself off with a yawn, and Bdubs lashed his tail in irritation.

“I can feel how tired you are,” he said grumpily, rubbing his fingers through the soft fabric of his hoodie in an effort to calm himself down. Maybe it was a bad idea to come and talk to Mumbo, but he knew that even if he was at his base he wouldn’t be able to shake the irritation until Mumbo went home.

And he hated that he couldn’t hang out with his friends without feeling like he wanted to bite their heads off.

Not literally.

Definitely not literally, he couldn’t let it get that bad.

“Hmmm?” Mumbo hummed, and it was clear he was barely listening to the conversation. He stepped into the shop, and Bdubs took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily before following him in.

“The moon doesn’t care if you’re sleeping or not,” he said, leaning against the wall and folding his arms. Mumbo stared at the barrel full of iron for a long time before blinking and opening it, exchanging what was inside for a few diamonds.

“You gotta stop sleeping,” Mumbo said, and that was exactly the opposite of what needed to happen on this stupid server. “We need to stop sleeping the moon away.”

Bdubs scowled, his tail lashing even more violently. He was pretty sure he was scratching the walls of Tango’s shop, but he didn’t care. He didn’t really care about anything except the itching, irritating, wrongness that was radiating off Mumbo.

“We can’t just stop sleeping,” he snapped, glaring at his friend. Mumbo finally seemed to realise something was wrong and stared at him, taking a moment longer than usual to process.

“You alright, Bdubs?” he asked, and Bdubs attempted to bite down his snarl. He wanted to punch Mumbo in the face.

(He wanted to extend his claws and bare his teeth and rip Mumbo’s face off until he was bloody on the ground, until he respawned, until that aching exhaustion was gone.)

“No one is sleeping,” he growled, forcing down that last thought.

“Just a little longer, and then the moon will be happy,” Mumbo muttered, and it sounded like he was reciting something.

“You need to sleep!” Bdubs growled and he lunged forward, eyes flashing (glowing, Mumbo's eyes reflecting their sickly green), teeth bared.

Mumbo stumbled back and Bdubs blinked, staring at his extended claws. Blood pounded in his ears, and for a moment the intense terror that he had nearly attacked his friend overwhelmed the irritation and annoyance and anger.

“Bdubs?” Mumbo asked, and Bdubs stepped back. His hands were shaking and he knew he had to get away before the irritation became too much to control.

Before Mumbo could gather his wits and chase after him, he darted outside and spread his wings, beating them quickly as he flew towards his house, stumbled to a rough landing on the steps of the moon-shaped building. He took a shaky breath, stumbling inside and slamming the door shut behind him, leaning heavily on it.

He buried his face in his hands, digging his claws lightly into his head. He had never lost control during the day like that. He was usually fine - a little annoyed and irritated, but fine - during the day.

At night, it was a different story, and he knew that - had known that for a long time. It was part of the reason he made sure he was always in bed as soon as he could be, that he slept through the night that stole his agency. Because he knew, he knew that he wasn’t able to control himself as well at night, and his often insomniac friends would suffer the price if he didn’t sleep through that time.

(The other reason he slept enough was because he knew what happened when those around him were tired. He was terrified to know what would happen if he didn’t get the sleep he needed. It wasn’t something he wanted to find out).

But now - now he had snapped at Mumbo, had barely been able to hold himself back from attacking his friend. And the urge was still there, though quieter and easy to fight. The rolling annoyance, the irritation at every little thing and especially his friends. If they were tired enough, would it matter that it was day?

He sank down the door, wrapping his face in his arms and trying to breathe as he enclosed himself in a comforting wing hug. He focused on calming down his breathing, on the things he could control that wasn’t the bubbling annoyance under his skin.

He could do this. Mumbo was probably right, it wouldn’t last that long and Bdubs needed to be able to control himself when things got a little tough. If he just made sure he stayed away from the Hermits who had decided that sleep was apparently optional, he’d be okay.

He crouched above Boatem, eyes trained on Grian as he worked below. The sun was starting to set - or more accurately, the moon was starting to rise - and Bdubs couldn’t take his eyes off the figure below him digging through shulker boxes.

The itch to attack was almost overpowering, and it took a lot for Bdubs to wrestle back control of his mind, forcing himself to focus.

He didn’t remember how he got here. He was pretty sure it hadn’t been a voluntary thing - he’d been making an effort to stay away from Boatem lately. And yet here he was, the irritation and anger and annoyance all swirling together under his skin as he tasted Grian’s exhaustion.

Below him, his friend slumped against a shulker, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Bdubs scowled, swishing his tail and flexing his claws. It would be so simple, to just dive down and dig his claws into Grian’s heart, slice his chest, dig his claws into his throat. Feel the exhaustion leave as he respawned.

He stumbled back, pressing his hands to his head and tucking his knees to his chest, wrapping his tail around him. His heart was in his mouth and he felt nauseous. What was he doing! That was Grian! His friend! He didn’t want to attack Grian, he didn’t want to hurt him!

But he wanted to scream - the irritation dug its claws into his skin and he wanted to rip and tear. He wanted it to stop, he wanted everyone to sleep so he could rest.

He needed to go home, before it was too late and he completely lost control of himself. So he spread his wings and flew as quickly as he could, back to the relative safety and peace of home.

He could feel the visitor before he even heard the rockets over the mountain. He had hidden in his room for the past few days, making sure he slept as soon as he could. He was beginning to hate the sight of the moon, peering over the horizon before it was even dark enough to curl under his covers.

Scar’s exhaustion was obvious before his friend even knocked on the door with a sing-songy call of “Oh Bdubs!” It dug its claws into Bdubs’ very being, and he had to very carefully force himself to not punch a wall.

“I’m busy!” he called out. Scar was the last person he wanted to see right now. To be fair, anyone with that much exhaustion coming off them was pretty low on his list.

“Bdubs you need to stop sleeping the moon away!” Scar said, still speaking in a cheerful, joking voice that didn't quite hide the tiredness underneath. Bdubs shuddered, sitting on his bed and wrapping his arms around his head, fighting down a scream as frustrated tears pricked his eyes.

“You need to sleep,” he called back, his voice muffled.

“Oh Bdubs!” Scar called again, and Bdubs realised with a start he was inside the house. He bit down an inhuman screech at the realisation, the need for violence growing as his friend knocked on his bedroom door.

“Not. Now. Scar,” he bit out, dropping his arms and clenching his fists. His claws dug into his palms and his heart thumped loudly and the fabric of the blanket he was sitting on was scratchy and Scar was TIRED and Bdubs wanted to BREAK SOMETHING.

“The moon needs to be seen!” Scar said, and Bdubs had had enough.

He snarled, the shriek he’d been trying to keep down finally bursting free. He just wanted it to stop and he surged forward, swinging his claws wildly, shrieking as he did. It felt good. It felt good to dig his claws into something, to feel wood under his hands and see Scar’s startled face.

It felt good to be violent, to finally fight back against that helpless itch he’d been feeling for so long. So he lashed out, vision blurred bright green, shrieking as he did.

When he came back to his senses, the annoyance he had been feeling had faded somewhat, and he was kneeling on the ground. Long claw marks dug into the wall, and his bedroom door was shattered into splinters.

Scar was nowhere to be seen.

His items were scattered across the floor.

Bdubs heart was pounding, the urge for violence fading into deep, intense horror. He frantically activated the communicator on his arm, terror growing as he saw the last message.

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by BdoubleO100

What had he done?

He stumbled back, staring at the blood on his claws, Scar’s hat lying discarded on the floor - a large gash torn into it. He had done that. He had done that. He had done that.

He had let his instincts get the better of him. He had lost control. He hadn’t done that in… well, he didn’t know how long.

He couldn’t do this anymore. Tears were flowing freely, silently and he could barely breathe. The irritation was back, rippling under his skill and making him want to rip his skin off. He couldn’t do this anymore.

“Bdubs?”

Someone was calling from below and Bdubs bit down a sob. Tango - it was Tango, come to check on him probably. When he didn’t answer, he heard the door open and quiet footsteps. “You alright?”

He couldn’t answer, could only stare at Scar’s hat as he silently cried. He hated that he had done that, hated that he wanted to do it again because in that moment he was in control. There was no more irritations, no more annoyances or anger at every small thing.

“Bubbles?”

Muted conversation followed Keralis’ call, and Bdubs bit down another sob. Footsteps came up the stairs, and his two base mates appeared, Tango first followed closely by Keralis. Bdubs barely looked up as they entered, taking in the scene - Bdubs on the floor, the gashes in the walls and Scar’s scattered items.

“Oh, Bubbles, what happened,” Keralis said, his concern clear. Finally, Bdubs looked up at them, tears still flowing.

“I need them to sleep,” he said, his voice hoarse and rough and catching. His throat felt raw - probably from the shrieking earlier. Keralis’ face softened and he moved to Bdubs’ side as Tango started gathering Scar’s items.

“Is okay, Sweetface,” Keralis said quietly, laying a hand on Bdubs’ shoulder. Bdubs felt the tension slowly leave him, at least a little, and he leaned into the touch, leaning his forehead against Keralis’ shoulder.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said quietly. “I - I feel so… so angry… I need them to sleep.”

“We’ll figure it out, Bdubs,” Tango said. “I’m going to take this to Scar - he’s probably coming back from spawn - and go talk to Impulse.”

“Yeah!” Keralis said. He wrapped one hand around the back of Bdubs’ head, and Bdubs closed his eyes at the sense of calm his friends brought him. They were well-rested - or at least, significantly more well-rested than every single Boatem member. “And we can go and talk to Boatem once Bdubs here has calmed down a little.” “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Bdubs muttered, not looking up. He was exhausted, almost like the lack of sleep on the server was influencing him.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. His nights had been restless and his sleep light, filled with nightmares of flashing teeth and glowing green eyes.

“You won’t,” Keralis insisted. “We’ll be right here with you, right Tango!”

“Yeah,” Tango said. “I think it’ll be better if Boatem sees how much their lack of sleep is affecting you anyway. I must admit I’ve been getting a bit worried for them.”

Bdubs nodded slowly, eyes still closed, head still pressed into Keralis’ shoulder.

“Okay,” he said finally. Because if Tango and Keralis were there, he could trust them to hold him back if he lost it again. Besides - he wanted to be sure they were sleeping. He wanted to see it with his own eyes.

And so, maybe half an hour later, he found himself standing between Keralis and Tango, facing the five Boatem members beside the Boatem hole. They all were exhausted, and Bdubs was fidgeting nervously, clenching and unclenching his fists as he fought down the irritation.

It rolled through him in waves, and every time some small annoyance happened - like a goat screaming in the background, or Grian’s feathers shifting together the wrong way - Bdubs felt like screaming. He just wanted it to stop.

Keralis still had a hand on his shoulder, and he focused on that above all the other sensations that sent a stab of anger through him.

“You guys need to sleep,” he said finally, trying to keep his voice steady. The five Boatem members exchanged glances.

They all looked exhausted - hair ruffled and unkempt, clothes untucked and ragged. Scar was wearing his hat again, as though he had barely noticed the gash Bdubs had gifted it. Grian was yawning, fidgeting with the edge of his sweater as he did. Impulse looked half asleep where he stood, blinking like an owl as Bdubs spoke. Mumbo was standing completely still, and that in itself was proof enough something was wrong. Out of all of them, Pearl probably looked the most well adjusted, but she was still fighting down a yawn, and Bdubs could taste the tiredness from all of them.

“We can’t,” Mumbo said, and Bdubs bared his teeth. Didn’t they understand! They had to sleep, please, please, please, please, please, anything to stop this feeling. He wanted to Break Something again.

“Gotta see the moon,” Grian muttered. Bdubs clenched his fists and Keralis tightened his grip slightly, grounding him. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep his voice even.

“You guys are making it really hard for me to control myself,” he said. “My hybrid traits aren’t letting me rest until you guys do.” He glanced at Grian, hoping to appeal to the other hybrid.

“What Bubbles is saying is that phantom brain makes him wanna rip your sweet faces off,” Keralis added. Bdubs nodded tiredly, gritting his teeth as another wave of irritation washed over him. He just wanted it to STOP.

“We sacrificed our beds to the moon,” Mumbo pointed out. Impulse nodded in agreement.

“Yeah!” he said. “It’s no danger, we just need to be nice to it!”

Bdubs snarled, his tail lashing at their flippancy. That didn’t mean they couldn’t sleep! He surged forward, but before he got even close to the Boatem members, Tango stepped in front of him, pushing him back gently as Keralis’ hand tightened on his shoulder.

“It’s the moon,” Tango said. “It doesn’t care what you do! It’s getting closer regardless. This whole sleepless thing is stupid, you’re not going to be any use if something does happen exhausted. And before you say anything,” he shot a glare at Grian, “you can still study the moon and get enough sleep you don’t drive Bdubs feral.”

Bdubs was lashing his tail rhythmically, the sensation calming him down enough as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Irritation still bubbled under his skin, and the urge to slash and stab didn’t go away, but for the moment he could keep it at bay.

The Boatem members exchanged glances, some looking almost guilty. Then Mumbo had to open his stupid mouth and speak his stupid words and Bdubs wanted to punch him.

“What about the Mooners?” he asked. Bdubs snarled.

“You don’t get it.” He stepped forward, shrugging Keralis' hand off his shoulder. He could handle it for now. “I can feel your exhaustion! I can feel it, digging under my skin.” He gripped his head, fighting down angry, frustrated tears. “I can feel it even when I’m not near Boatem. It’s driving me insane!”

There was a long moment of silence, Bdubs blinking as he tried to fight back tears. Then Scar stepped forward, laying a hand on Bdubs’ shoulder. He shrank back, feeling the exhaustion seeping from Scar, washing over him, making him want to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, blinking a little faster. “I - I didn’t mean to kill you, I just -” The urge to stab Scar was getting stronger, the taste of tiredness filling his very being. He shot a frantic look towards Keralis, and his friend stepped forward quickly, rubbing his shoulder rhythmically.

“No, I’m sorry, Bdubs,” Scar said, and he sounded so sincere. He took off his hat, blinking a few times and swaying slightly. “I got caught up in this and didn’t think about how it would affect others.” He cut himself off with a yawn, then looked a little sheepish. “Or myself.”

“Please just sleep,” Bdubs whispered. He wrapped his arms around himself, leaning into Keralis’ touch.

“We will,” Mumbo said, sounding a little reluctant, but seeming to finally understand how important this was.

“Like, right now,” Bdubs muttered.

“I brought beds!” Tango said. To Bdubs’ surprise, he quickly moved to place a pile of beds on the path outside the Boatem hole. For a long moment, the five Boatem members stared at the beds in slight confusion.

Then Bdubs broke the stunned silence. He was tired himself - the exhaustion his friends felt was rubbing off on him, and it was starting to get late anyway. So he moved forward and threw himself onto one of the beds, curling into the warm covers and fighting down his annoyance.

Scar was the first to join him, followed by the others. Grian hesitated the longest, and Pearl had to practically drag him onto the bed to convince him to rest. Soon, all five Boatem members and three Big Eye Crew members were curled together on the beds, Bdubs firmly and comfortably in the middle.

Well - comfortable was a bit of a stretch. Tango had only brought six beds, and Boatem was completely out, so the eight of them had to squish quite close. Grian’s feathers were ticking Bdubs’ nose, Scar was pressed into his back, and Impulse was lying slightly awkwardly on his tail. But for the first time in what felt like forever, he could properly relax.

Boatem didn’t take long to fall asleep, their exhaustion knocking them out almost instantly. As they did, Bdubs felt the irritation fade, leaving him able to breathe properly in what felt like weeks. He blinked back tears at the sheer relief of it, staring up at the darkening sky.

A contended meow sounded, and he looked up to see Jellie stepping neatly over the sleeping pile. She caught sight of Scar and let out a soft mew, bouncing over towards him - landing squarely on Tango’s chest as she did, causing the man to let out a huff of air.

The cat purred softly as she curled up between Scar and Bdubs, her tail tucked neatly over her nose, her soft, gentle rumblings soothing Bdubs even more.

With relief he hadn’t thought he would ever feel again, Bdubs let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes.

#hermitcraft #mcyt #bdubs #bdoubleo100 #big eye crew #boatem #moons big #wren writes

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moriiartist · 3 years ago

Note

so heres my idea; scar calls everyone to the escape rocket, and everyone starts getting ready to leave, but reader doesn’t want to go because they don’t want to leave the world they’ve created for themselves? and they have a relationship (platonic or romantic) with grian?

have a nice day/night :)

GOODBYE TO A WORLD

۫ ּ ִֶָ ࣪✦ PAIRING \ C!Grian x GN!Reader

۫ ּ ִֶָ ࣪✦ SYNOPSIS \ The world is tearing itself apart, but you can’t bring yourself to abandon everything you’ve worked for just yet. It’s only been a few months since the Season started, and yet you’ve become so attached to your builds. At the same time, Grian isn’t sticking around, even if he has to drag you kicking and screaming with him.

۫ ּ ִֶָ ࣪✦ WARNINGS \ Blood, implied/referenced self-harm (feather plucking), death mention

۫ ּ ִֶָ ࣪✦ A/N \ Angst angst angst angst- For real though, I loved this prompt and I think that I might've gone off the deep end with the level of hurty feelings juice in this one. I tried to make the relationship with Grian more ambiguous, so you can read it as romantic or platonic if you like!

When the shock of your situation had finally set in, you didn’t know how to react. I mean, the biggest thing that had ever happened in the server since you’d joined around Season 6 was the two prank wars that Grian had started- all fun, jokey things that didn’t affect the bonds of your fellow Hermits in the long run.

This time, though? This time, you didn’t think that there was going to be any immediate shift to normalcy after the dust had settled.

“Moon’s big!” Grian joked, lips quirking into a half-grin at Mumbo’s expression, a curious mix between reproach and genuine amusement. A few steps behind them, you couldn’t stop yourself from breaking out into giggles as the avian’s wings puffed up with pride, both men turning to look at you with wide grins on their faces.

“It-it sure is,” you’d finally managed to gasp out, wiping a few stray tears of mirth that had escaped your eyes. “I just didn’t expect you to put it so bluntly!”

Mumbo shrugged, his usual Redstone-stained white shirt bunching at the shoulders with the movement. “I mean, I don’t know how else I’d put it. Moon’s big!”

Oh, how you wished that an increase in size had been the end of it.

The ground shuddered once more under your boots, and you flinched to the side as clumps of gravel and sod rained down from the sky, slamming into the ground around your feet. The sky was lit up in vibrant strokes of violet and orange-red, a beautiful sight if you ignored the giant celestial rock that was about to come crashing down on everything that you’d built up these past few months.

You hadn’t realized you had been biting your lips until your teeth broke through the skin, the taste of salt and copper flooding your mouth. Wincing, you gingerly swiped your tongue over the injury, momentarily distracted from the apocalypse around you as, once more, chunks of the ground tore apart and floated heavenwards.

You jerked as you heard your name called, wheeling around to see Scar and the rest of Boatem all standing around the Boatem hole, the escape rocket looming above like a monolith, the last bastion of defense keeping your little band of Hermits from inevitable demise as the giant celestial body above annihilated the remains of the server.

“We’re all gathering over here!” Impulse shouted to you, and you huffed as you twisted to jog over, the thick material of the spacesuit that Scar had made for you bunching and dragging uncomfortably against your skin. The other Boatem members’ getups were very similar to yours, give or take a few changes- color, being the major one.

All six of you wore thick, padded cream and burgundy flight suits, outfitted for the harsh conditions of the void that you were planning to launch yourselves into. The design distinctly made you think of what would happen if the steampunk aesthetic and actual spaceflight technology had a horrible, apocalypse-preventing baby.

To be fair, Scar had less than a day to work on these, so you couldn’t really be picky, could you?

… It would be nice if they didn’t look like crash test dummies, though.

As you made your way towards the rest of the group, Grian didn’t hesitate in slinging an arm and wing around your shoulders, calloused palms gripping your shoulder with a tenseness that could only come from the urgency of the situation. Despite his otherwise cheerful, if a little bit anxious, expression, you had known the avian long enough to tell that he was shaken to the core.

It had only been a few days since he had been staying up all night just to measure the breadth of the moon and its growth, and now you couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of dread that had been slowly building up within him despite how everyone else had brushed the phenomena off.

“Grian?” you murmured softly, pushing the door to the observatory open with nary a squeak- proof of just how quickly the red-wearing builder had constructed it.

Your careful greeting was met with silence, the still air of the room feeling almost oppressive as you crept further in. It was dark, the chamber inside lit only with the light of the celestial body that loomed overhead, creeping closer and closer with every day.

A sudden clattering made you jump, and you found yourself hurrying towards the source of the noise, breath catching. Your worry compounded, sinking like a heavy stone in your gut as you finally laid eyes on what you were searching for- Grian.

The avian’s wings drooped uselessly at his side, his usually pristine feathers ragged and thinner-looking than usual, almost as if he had been plucking them. It appeared as though he had dropped something- a telescope, maybe?- and was frantically checking it for damage, muttering something quietly under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out.

“Grian?” you called once more. The blonde whipped around, eyes wide and bloodshot as he suddenly realized your presence. He stuttered, obviously caught off-guard, but all you could do was gasp and rush to his side, cupping his face with careful hands.

He looked... awful. You knew that he hadn’t been sleeping all that well recently, what with the whole ‘mooner’ cult that he had decided to take part in, but you hadn’t realized just how bad it had gotten.

Dark circles were carved thickly into the skin underneath his eyes, looking more like bruises than anything else in the low light. His entire countenance was... dull. It seemed as if the ever-present light that flickered just underneath his skin had all but disappeared, leaving his face grim and grey.

“H-hey! I, uh, I wasn’t expecting for anyone to drop by! Please excuse the mess,” the avian babbled nervously, refusing to meet your concerned gaze as it raked over his features.

“What happened to you?”

Grian’s jaw shut with an audible click, guilt washing over his expression at the barely concealed panic in your voice. Despite how you were trying to stay calm, your furrowed brow and glossy eyes left nothing up to the imagination in regards to the inner turmoil you were feeling.

“... I’m sorry I was MIA for so long,” he finally murmured after a pregnant pause, his voice much quieter than it had been moments ago. “I just got caught up.”

You sighed heavily, letting your hands drop from his face and come up to rub at the bridge of your nose. “You can’t keep doing this, Gri. You’re going to run yourself ragged.”

“I-I know, but someone has to keep an eye on this thing.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling Grian’s nervousness rub off on yourself, your cautious smile becoming more and more strained the longer the rest of the group kept dragging their feet for. You flinched as, once more, the earth beneath your feet shook with a tooth-rattling tremor.

“So, Scar-Scar, lets- lets get in the rocket, and then you need to explain why the rocket is the way it is,” Grian said decisively, his words heralded with murmurs of assent from the rest of the crew. It was clear that any conversation they may have had before this moment was over, and despite their cheerful faces, the air was crackling with tension.

Everyone was tired of waiting, barely even able to look at the moon looming over the horizon like a baleful white eye. Why was this suddenly so hard for you? Why did you feel guilty as you rocketed up to the ship that Scar had built, awkwardly gliding through the air as the shifts in gravity yanked you every which way?

You awkwardly scooted through the airlock doors, chuckling breathily at Mumbo’s concern that they were open, into the cramped interior of the rocket. It was uncomfortable, to say the least- having to carefully maneuver your way around your friends’ bodies in the tight space, especially once Grian insisted on setting his prized dragon egg down in the corner.

At Scar’s encouragement, everyone clambered down the ladder to where the cockpit was situated. You gritted your teeth as the entire ship vibrated, tightening your grip until you were sure your knuckles were white as you were jostled from side to side.

“Whoa! Turbulence!” Mumbo exclaimed.

You felt nauseous, although you weren’t sure whether it was from the earthquakes or something... different. You shook your head, trying to dispel the heavy feeling threatening to overwhelm you. It was just nerves. Right?

Once everyone’s feet were safely on solid footing, Scar clapped his hands with an air of finality, bringing the group’s attention from where they are curiously studying the landscape below through the tinted windows.

“Welcome aboard the Swaggon rocket. T-this is how we’re getting out of this world, by the way- I-I couldn’t think of any other way. Um, mind you that this rocket is too big to go in the Boatem, so I had to make an alternative plan, hence the spacesuits.”

You blinked. Scar’s words weren’t exactly the most comforting thing, but you realized that you weren’t actually all that concerned about the escape failing.

In fact, you were more scared of it working. Because if it worked, then you would have to leave. You would have to start all over again, barely a few months into making this world. Before you could do everything that you wanted to do. Before you could live how you had wanted to.

There was no guarantee that you would be able to make it to next season. There was no guarantee that you would survive at all, actually. And- and you wanted to stay. You didn’t want to leave.

You grabbed Grian’s arm, lips parting to tell him of your sudden revelation, but you were cut off by Scar’s continued speech.

“Please stand on the official trap doors.”

Impulse frowned, the expression visible through the yellow-dyed glass of his helmet. “Um, it looks to me like there’s only four? Last I checked there’s six people here.”

“G-Grian! You guys get together over there,” the brunette quickly cut in, stuttering slightly with embarrassment. “And, uh, Mumbo? You and Pearl are probably gonna have to pair up too.”

You blanched. “Grian-”

The avian wasted no time in pushing you onto one of the iron trap doors situated in the corner of the room, the two of you squeezing together so tightly that you were concerned your ribs might bruise under the pressure.

“I don’t think the two of us are gonna fit in here,” he wheezed, oblivious to your distress as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Grian!” you gasped, wrenching a hand free to push yourself away, stumbling backwards onto the normal floor. “I-I don’t want to leave.”

The reaction was instantaneous. Silence fell upon the room like a blanket, no sound uttered beyond the distant rumbling of the earth as it was ripped apart. The blonde builder’s eyes were wide, lips parted in shock and equal disbelief as he processed your sentence.

“What?” Pearl questioned, eyebrows tugging together. “You want to stay here? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“The world is literally going to end in, like, ten minutes. So, unless you want to die, I would go through with Scar’s plan,” Impulse added, nervously tapping the glass of his helmet with a gloved finger.

You bit your lip as you glanced towards the ground, avoiding Grian’s gaze. “I know, I know- I just... I can’t leave, okay? You guys are perfectly fine to, It’s not like I would try to stop you, but- I have to stay here. I need to.”

The avian finally spoke then, his voice cracking in a way that sent pain sparking through every nerve in your body. “You would- you want to leave us?”

Tears welled in your eyes then, practically scalding as they threatened to spill down your cheeks. “No! No, I- that’s not it at all, okay? I can’t just let go of everything we’ve done here like this, and- this is what I want.”

The shaking was almost omnipresent, know, the tremors growing stronger and stronger while you talked.

Grian’s wings flared, feathers bristling as the avian stared you down with pure hurt in his eyes. “You can’t.”

“I can, and I will,” you shot back, determination in your voice despite the anguish that festered under the skin. “You can’t stop me.”

“Uh, anytime, guys?” Scar cut in, the scarred builder braced nervously in his corner of the room, anxiously glancing at the walls of the rocket as they shook and groaned around you. “The Swaggon rocket isn’t really graded for this kind of stress, and we probably should’ve left a long time ago.”

“Yeah, well, then you should be going,” you said firmly, ignoring the suspicious wetness on your face.

Grian’s face hardened. “We’ll see about that. Scar, punch it.”

When Scar said he had a plan, you expected it to be similar to how normal rockets functioned. Y’know, with the whole launching into the sky bit? Well, that is not what Scar had created.

No- he decided that dropping everyone out into the open air was a great idea.

Every Boatem member standing on top of a trap door shrieked as the floor fell out from under them, spiraling down into the endless abyss of the Boatem hole whilest trying to dodge the thick cloud of flying debris that surged up to meet them.

You only had a second to gape at the spectacle before you too were being dragged forwards, barely managing to keep yourself from falling out of the ship as well. Looking down, it was immediately clear what had caught you- Grian, a determined gleam in his eyes.

You should’ve known that he wouldn’t give up so easily.

“Grian!” you barked, shrieking over the sound of the wind and the other Hermit’s cries of panic and shock. “Let me go! It’s what I want!”

He bared his teeth, a familiar stubbornness that you had come to love settling across his face. “No.”

You could only gasp as you were wrenched from the safe confines of the rocket, bundled up to the avian’s body as he fell down, down, down- towards a place where you could never return from. Away from everything you’d wanted so badly.

You could only break down into sobs as the void swallowed you whole, wrapped in the warmth of Grian’s wings. The coldness of the dark bit at your face, even through the thick suit and helmet you wore, and there was nothing. No birdsong, no sound of the wind, nada.

It was everything that you had grown to hate.

“Why couldn’t you have just let me go?” you croaked miserably through your tears, too emotionally exhausted to pull away from Grian’s grip as the blonde held you firmly against his chest.

“I won’t let you die for what could have been, when there’s so much more to live for.”

#request #anonymous #a meal for the children #hermitcraft x reader #mcyt x reader #grian x reader #c!grian #c!goodtimeswithscar #c!mumbo jumbo #c!impulsesv #c!pearlescentmoon #tw: blood #tw: implied/referenced self-harm #tw: death mention

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c-r-ash-crash · 3 years ago

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Grian awoke to bright sunlight and warm summer air. He stretched languidly, noticing there was soft grass beneath him. Distantly, he wondered if he had fallen asleep in front of his main base. Oh well, wouldn’t be the first time. He rolled over and tried to fall back asleep. Then, with a start, he realized he couldn’t hear the sounds of parrots or goats, or any other sounds that usually filled boatem.

He opened his eyes, blearily, sitting up to look around. He was in a small field, a copse of trees off to the right and a bedrock platform embedded into the ground a few feet in front of him. An enchanter sat in the very center, but otherwise, the area was empty. Where was he? “No idea,” a familiar voice said. He glanced up to see Ren standing on the opposite side of the bedrock platform.

He whirled around and noticed that he was part of a circle of players surrounding the bedrock platform. He could see Scar, Impulse, Martyn, Jimmy, Scott, Cleo, Bdubs, Etho, Tango, Joel, BigB, and Skizz. And of course, there was him and Ren.

Scott swore under his breath. “Grian, I thought you said you shut down the server!” Grian’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?” Then he realized what Scott meant. Everyone here had also been on...instinctively, Grian glanced down at his wrist to check how many lives he had. “Don’t be red. Don’t be red,” he begged. Instead the skin on the inside of his wrist was blank. “We don’t have lives,” Grian said, almost stupidly. There was a scramble as everyone checked their own wrists. Theirs too were blank. No one knew whether to be relieved or scared.

“Slightly more important thing right now,” Bdubs said. “Scott’s right, Grian. You said you shut this server down. How are we back?” “I don’t know,” Grian said, frantically wracking his brain for anyway things could have gone wrong. He came up blank. “I don’t know,” he repeated. “I shut it down. Guys, I swear, I shut the server down. We shouldn’t be here.” “Except this isn’t the same server,” Etho said, startling everybody. “Look. We’re at spawn. And last I remember, there wasn’t bedrock at spawn. Or an enchanter for that matter. And all the biomes are completely different.” “He’s right,” Jimmy said. “This isn’t the same place.”

“Where are we then?” Tango asked. No one had an answer, but in his heart, Grian knew. The first time around, the universe had wanted a game. And now, it wanted a second round. He could tell by the looks in everyone’s eyes that they were thinking the same.

“What do we do?” Ren asked, ears pressed flat against his head. “We...we could stay together,” Impulse suggested timidly. “Rich coming from you,” Martyn muttered under his breath. Everyone chose to ignore him. “I mean, we don’t have lives anymore,” BigB said. “It might not be the worst idea.” “Don’t jinx it,” Cleo grumbled. “Knowing how the universe works, this round’ll be a lot more twisted than the last time. I wouldn’t bet on not having lives. This stupid server is probably just keeping us in suspense. More fun that way. For all we know, we’ll have even fewer lives to start with.” “Cleo’s got a point,” Tango said. “It might make more sense to split up for now.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Okay, can someone please explain what the heck is going on?” a new voice broke in. Grian whirled around to see Lizzie, Pearl, and Mumbo standing at the edge of the group. “Oh no,” he muttered under his breath. “Not you. Please not you.” “Lizzie,” Joel whispered. “No, no, no, no, no. Please. Not her.” Grian turned to face the heavens and recited every swear word he knew, cursing the universe for making him live this nightmare again, cursing it for taking his friends as sacrifices.

“Griba, what’s going on?” Pearl said firmly. For a moment, no one said anything. Then, Scar said quietly, “Pearl, Mumbo, remember that server I told you about? The one where everyone only had three lives?” Pearl and Mumbo nodded slowly, then their eyes widened in horror as they realized what Scar meant. “Surely...” Mumbo swallowed. “You can’t mean that’s what this place is, can you?” The grim looks on everyone’s faces said enough. “Oh, no,” Lizzie murmured. “I’m going to get us out of here,” Grian said, voice shaking more than he cared to admit. “I promise. For now, we need to get far, far away from each other.”

The veteran members murmured their assent. Then, as if one, they turned heel, and began walking in the opposite direction. After a moment, Lizzie, Pearl, and Mumbo followed suit.

Grian had been exploring the server, looking for a place to set up camp when a small chime reverberated through his skull. He stopped dead in his tracks. Words floated in front of his eyes. “You have...” They hovered there for a moment, but then with another chime, they changed to read: “2 lives.” Grian pulled back the sleeve of his sweater to see two yellow hearts tattooed onto his wrist. “...Crap.”

Scar had just finished climbing a tree, when he heard the chime. “You have...” the text read. “6 lives.” Scar’s brow furrowed. He should have only had three lives. How had he ended up with double that amount. Not that he was complaining, but even with the game having gone so wrong the first time, the server shouldn’t be this glitched. He glanced down to see six dark green hearts inked onto his wrist anyways.

Martyn was harvesting wood when the chime sounded. His heart sank as the text appeared. “You have...” Silence echoed through the forest. “4 lives.” “What?” he muttered, as four dark green hearts etched themselves onto his wrist. “How? I’m only supposed to have three.” Before he could ponder it further, his stomach growled, and he set off to find food.

Scott had been hunting a cow when the chime startled him out of his hiding place. “You have...” the text appeared. “2 lives.” “Oh no,” he whispered. He needed gear. Now.

Jimmy had been exploring the server, looking for a high vantage point when the chim rang out. “You have...2 lives.” “Not again.” Distantly, he wondered where Scott was.

Impulse was gathering up splintered pieces of wood when the chime startled him. The wood went crashing to the ground. “You have...3 lives.” So Cleo had been right. Impulse went back to gathering his wood.

Etho and Bdubs were gathering resources when they heard the chime. “You have...4 lives,” the text read for Bdubs. Quietly, he pulled his sleeve further over his wrist and the four dark green hearts that appeared there. “You have...4 lives” the text read for Etho. He pulled a strip of cloth from his jacket and wound it around his wrist. No point letting anyone else know he had an advantage.

Cleo stopped in her tracks when she saw the text. “You have...two lives.” “Oh, this is so bad,” she muttered under her breath, picking up her pace as she looked for shelter.

Tango had been harvesting wood when he heard the chime. “You have...6 lives.” He was too elated by the prospect of the extra breathing room that he didn’t bother to ponder how it was possible to have more than three lives.

BigB had been standing by the riverside when the text appeared. “You have...3 lives.” “Guess Cleo was right,” he murmured. “I suppose I oughta get geared up.”

Skizz waited patiently as the text decided his fate. “You have...3 lives.” Well, at least he knew what to expect this time.

Joel sat down on the edge of the mountain, and waited for the text to tell him what horrors the universe had in store for this round. “You have...5 lives.” “Oh, five,” he said, wondering whether everyone else had the same amount of lives. Slowly, five dark green hearts appeared on his wrist.

Lizzie’s hand traced along the world border, but she stopped as a loud chime rang through her skull. “You have...” floating green text read in front of her eyes. “4 lives.” What did that mean?

Pearl pushed the branch out of her way, but startled by the chime, she let it hit her in the face. “You have...6 lives.” That was good, right? Lots of lives meant a chance to live longer. Six dark green hearts etched themselves into the skin of her wrist. Six lives was good, right?

Mumbo gathered leaves together, using tree bark to tie them into a makeshift sack. He stopped when the chime sounded however. “You have...4 lives.” “Alright!” he exclaimed. After all, four lives was good. Maybe everyone had just been overreacting when they had joined the server. Mumbo certainly hoped they’d been overreacting.

Now, the game had begun anew, and the universe watched with glee as the players began to move into place.

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starstress · 3 years ago

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Void Touched: Grian (and Mumbo and Scar) after the Voidfall – A Theory

A fresh new season, a fresh new start. Boatem has disbanded, but it seems like no matter what, Grian and Mumbo always stick together and this time they’ve pulled Scar with them too.

Very similar to last season’s start, the three of them as well as a couple other go off exploring together and then Scar’s cycle of death begins, like a prophesized oath. And this time, they seem very eager to count lives.

You could argue, “But Star, Grian and Mumbo are always bloodthirsty. Last Life and Season 8 are prime examples of that!” and yes, you’d be correct! 3rd Life and Last Life have been exceptionally death-filled experiences and we all remember how eagerly Mumbo kept using End Crystals and how Grian would keep sacrificing Scar to the Boatem Hole like a blood cultist leader. However, it seems, it feels like something has pushed their fondness for respawn mechanics to 110. In only the first hour, Scar has died upwards of 10 times, at the hand of Mumbo and Grian both.

This isn’t Last Life, Hermitcraft isn’t Last Life. And yet, it seems like after the Voidfall after the Moonfall, 3 of Boatem’s members have had their bloodlust cranked up like crazy. (Note that I have yet to watch Impulse’s and Pearl’s episodes and Mumbo’s and Scar’s are not yet out at the time of writing this.)

It’s all fun and games until once turns into thrice and jokes turn into habits and the life counter keeps on rolling.

(putting the rest of it under a cut since it’s a LONG read. Consider reblogging it if you liked it!!)

At this point, Grian’s developed a very intriguing habit: creating and giving life to entities. NPG, whatever the everloving heck the hippy stuff was, Grumbot, the Mycelium, the Boatem Hole and now, The Entity. THE Entity. With each season and season half, it seems like Grian upscales his creations towards something more and more sentient and eager to absorb. And absorb Life at that. Seems like he finally is set on reaching his Magnum Opus. But. Is it only his Magnum Opus?

Now, to go back a bit.

Grian has another equally intriguing habit: Death and Chaos games. The Civil War, Dig Straight Down, Tag 1 & 2, the Mycelium War, 3rd Life, Last Life. A few others I’m probably forgetting about.

Notably, Last Life was somewhat a different brand of chaos. It had an entity, possessing players and making them kill alongside the already dangerous Red Lives – the Bogeyman. It’s a combo of the aforementioned habits Grian’s developed over the years, both the creation of life and the war games coming together life a refined potion mix. And out of that series we got something unexpected – lore.

Admittedly, this comes from a side source, Martyn InTheLittleWood, who did say that the lore aspect is something that he came up with for himself rather than for the entire member list. Doesn’t mean that we cannot apply this to our own theories, however, since Grian is known for his mischievous ways and for teasing fans in subtle ways. Most worthy of notice is his instance of him pranking Mumbo with signposts while invisible due to a game bug: “Always watching” and “Behind you”. (Lately there’s been more and more talk of him actually stalking about on Hermitblr which at this point I’m mildly inclined to agree with.)

The lore that was given to us is as such: Confirmation of Grian as a Watcher as well as the Watchers themselves being responsible for 3rd Life and Last Life. This has HUGE implications for many many things, but for now it’s only one piece of the puzzle.

Right, so that’s Last Life. The series ended before Season 8 did and so is seen as an event that has happened to the affected Hermits during the Hermitcraft season. Coincidentally, it is after the end of that bloodlust-filled series that the Moon in Hermitcraft starts getting bigger – pushed out of orbit and on collision course with Planet Hermitcraft 8. At the last possible moment, the people of Boatem jump into the Boatem Hole – into the cold unflinching Void.

Now, from the start of its existence, the Boatem Hole has been the centre of attention and the focus of many theories and stories, amongst which that the Hole was the Void either given sentience through the lives sacrificed to it by the Boatem Crew, either given wide access to the Overworld surface and once again taught to anticipate lives on a silver platter. Most were Scar’s lives, a detail to remember. (I myself have one such fic which can be found here: link. Grian takes a brief trip into the Void.)

I’ll take a brief moment to touch upon how Mumbo and Scar themselves are affected as a result of these series of events, mostly along the way:

Mumbo: Despite his usage of End Crystals from the very beginning of Season 8, Mumbo takes his killing strategy into Last Life. It’s worth to note that ever since Grian has joined HC, Mumbo has been growing ever more chaotic, likely influenced by his gremlin of a friend, but his own chaos takes a very different form, despite being similar. Mumbo decides to avoid tainting his game stats and instead uses a “peaceful” method of delivering his execution. Another thing that I can’t omit is the way Mumbo may or may not have created some lore for his own character: A shapeshifter that transforms into that which he eats. He goes from human to potato to carrot to human again after consuming Grian’s soul. And, at the end of it all, it is Grian who baits him into breaking his Peace, Love and Plants oath.

Scar: Well known for his Vex character lore, Scar himself often takes the form of a Wizard or Magician. Also well known for his many deaths and inability to survive more than a few hours consistently, Scar’s presence in both 3rd Life, Last Life and Season 8 takes the form of the Sacrificial Lamb. Fast to lose his green and yellow lives in both series, as well as being captured by the Bogeyman curse in the latter, Scar seems to orbit around Grian. Allies first, with Scar eagerly ready to give his life so that Grian may be crowned winner for the friendship and help he showed Scar. Reluctant neutral parties second, with Grian feeling guilt for delivering death to Scar’s doorstep again and again, as such avoiding him and allying with the Southlands, yet bittersweetly being the reason Scar ends up as a Red Life again. Grian is also the biggest reason why Scar ends up swallowed by the Boatem Hole the most, second only to Scar’s own impending gravity to the Hole.

Right. To reiterate: Grian loves giving life to beings with mysterious goals, adores creating death games and is a confirmed Watcher who has unwittingly been the cause of many mysterious events. However, something feels amiss, especially when it comes to the Boatem Hole. The Void itself is an enigmatic entity, but we cannot say that it was Grian who gave it life. Rather…he gave it sentience. And fed it. And the Boatem Crew became its cult as they continued feeding it with each other’s souls. In the end, the Void grew fond of Boatem, and thus decided to cradle them into its inky nothingness as the Moon fell. It gave them shelter as they had in turn offered themselves to it.

So…what if, now that they’re on a new planet, on a new world, with a new update, the Void decides to be admired once more? Grian and Mumbo have killed Scar in that one ravine many times as Scar even called it Boatem 2.0. They did it again and again and Scar somehow never called for them to put a stop to it. He accepted each death as it came, either at the hands of his friend or the environment or his own actions. And Grian and Mumbo killed each other directly and indirectly and laughed in the face of it all.

What if they felt the Call of the Void?

What if Grian, Watcher and being of unbridled chaos and life and death, was haunted by the Void?

What if, in his own mischief, Grian fell trap to the consequences of his own actions?

What if, touched and chosen by the Void, he became a Vassal for the Void to gain form as it gained sentience?

(Folks I did NOT expect to write a 1.5k+ words essay following the very beginning of this new season, but here we are. What the HECK is up with this new season?? Also I’m calling this the Vassal Grian Theory (or Void Vassal Grian Theory if y’all wanna be fancy) or Void Touched Theory. Reblog and tell me your thoughts 👀 I’m going to sleep LMAO)

#grian #hermitcraft #hermitcraft season 9 spoilers #hermitcraft spoilers #hermitcraft season 9 #cult mention #tw cult mention #vassal grian theory #void vassal grian theory #watcher grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #void touched theory #mine #star.text #star.post

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