#don’t @ me I know I love mumbo but I’m so pleased with how he came out in this one
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y’know I’ve been having thoughts about mumbo not being in limited life so…….
“No. Absolutely not.”
Mumbo splutters, “W-What? Why not?!”
Grian stares at him, expression very serious. He crosses his arms. “Because, Mumbo,” is all he says.
A frown threatens to pull on Mumbo’s lips, as he already feels the corners of his mouth twitching. He stares down at his boyfriend with a bit of incredulousness. This was not the answer he expected upon asking Grian if he could join the next life game. Last Life had been quite fun, even if it was a bit overwhelming and terrifying all at once. He had liked it. It was nice to let loose. And Grian seemed plenty happy he was there! So, “Why?” he repeats himself. “Is it — was I bad at the game? Oh goodness, I didn’t ruin it for the others, did I?”
He sees something in Grian’s eyes crack, and the avian is pulling his gaze away. “It’s nothing like that. I’d even say you were great, Mumbo.”
“So then why can’t I join this next one?” Mumbo asks, beginning to feel just a bit frustrated. “Just give me a straight answer, Gri. That’s all I want.”
Grian looks up at him, and Mumbo attempts to plead with him with his eyes. He watches the very moment Grian’s resolve breaks, seeing it in the way his shoulders sag as he uncrosses his arms.
“The life games are different from Hermitcraft,” Grian says, and Mumbo blinks.
“Well — yes. I know what I’m signing up for, Grian,” he replies, though not rudely. He doesn’t see the issue here. “I was in Last Life, remember?”
Grian frowns in return, “That’s the point.” The way Grian says it makes it seem like that one sentence holds the answer to Mumbo’s question. He says it like it’s obvious, which it very much isn’t to Mumbo.
He resists the urge to groan. “Grian, mate, I really don’t see the issue here,” he reaches for Grian’s hands, taking them in his hands.
The way Grian looks at him breaks Mumbo, just a little bit. Because Grian looks at him with a bit of desperation, with this pleading gleam in his eyes. You’re going to make me say it? Is what his state communicates to Mumbo. He squeezes his hands in comfort. Encouragement. And, “Whatever the reason is, you can tell me, dove. I’m not going to be upset.”
Grian opens his mouth, hesitating before finally giving in. “I never wanted you to see me. In one of those games,” he admits.
“What?” Mumbo asks, looking at him.
“We all become a little different in those games. A little more violent, bloodthirsty. The moment someone turns red, everything changes,” Grian continues, looking down at their hands. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of… taking your final life being one of them. So I — Mumbo I can’t let you join another game.”
Oh… Mumbo stares at Grian with a bit of surprise, as well as pain. “But Scar,” he points out, because he is a complete and utter spoon.
Pain flashes across Grian’s face, and his grip on Mumbo’s hands tighten just a bit. “Scar is… he’s different,” he mutters. “I don’t want him there either, but he’s been a part of these games since the start. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop him.” He brings one of Mumbo’s hands up to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against his fingers. “I’m sorry, Mumbo, but please… I can’t have you both there.”
And Mumbo begins to understand. He knows these games can weigh heavily on the others, Grian especially. He remembers how he was when they all came back from Third Life. How Grian and Scar were. He doesn’t think either of them ever fully recovered from it.
Mumbo remembers pleading with Grian to join Last Life, wanting to understand what it was that they experienced. What was it that affected his boyfriends so thoroughly that caused them not to talk for weeks?
He had quickly understood.
“Oh, Grian,” Mumbo murmurs it very softly, moving to hold his face in his hands. “Grian, love, it’s okay. I understand.” He offers Grian a comforting smile. Grian, who had previously been tense in his hold, seems to relax at that. He sags in Mumbo’s grasp, and Mumbo can’t help his soft chuckles. He moves to kiss his nose, “Thank you for telling me,” he says, because he is grateful for the answer. “Nothing you do in those games will ever make me stop loving you, alright?”
Grian’s face breaks out in warmth, and he inhales quietly. He moves to embrace Mumbo, holding him tight. “Thank you,” he mumbles, “I love you too.”
Mumbo makes a mental note to be prepared with lots of blankets and snacks for when Grian and Scar come back from this next game.
He gives Grian a little squeeze, as well as a kiss to his hair. I’m here.
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Mumscarian week day 1 - Home Is Wherever I'm With You
Prompt: Nature & New Beginnings
I – Season 6, Grian and Mumbo:
“Don’t you think it’s beautiful?” Mumbo asked, turning his head to look over at where Grian sat beside him.
Grian hummed, glancing over at Mumbo briefly, then returning his attention to the extraordinary view before them, not catching the way Mumbo quickly looked away from him. “It is, isn’t it?”
The two Hermits rest peacefully in the grass on the island that Mumbo had claimed for his base before the season started. They watched in contentment as the sun dipped below the horizon, ever so slowly.
“Absolutely gorgeous,” Mumbo whispers faintly, as if his words were not intended for Grian’s ears. Grian peeked back over at the taller Hermit, surprised to find that he was already watching him with a small smile, so soft it almost hurt.
Hit with a burst of some unnamed emotion, Grian pushed himself up abruptly, startling Mumbo.
“Well!” He chuckled awkwardly, ignoring the look of confusion and what seemed to be a twinge of hurt that the ravenette gave him. “This has been great, Mumbo, but I best be going now.”
“Gri-“ Came the expected attempt at an interruption, though Grian merely brushed it off.
“I’ve got things to do, Mumbo, a starter base to build, projects to start, and pranks to plan! I’ll see you tomorrow!”
“Grian I- “
But Mumbo didn’t get a chance to say anything before Grian had pushed off from the ground and was flying toward the location of the start of his underwater base.
Mumbo sighed, slumping back against the grass.
Dammit.
II – Season 6, Grian and Scar:
“Y’know, I can’t think of many times we’ve interacted this season. Can you?” Grian frowned, tilting his head in contemplation.
“Not really, maybe one or two. Like that time I grabbed your stuff after you had just drowned.” He grinned, turning to look over at the taller man who gave him a light-hearted glare. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is how absolutely wonderful mine, Ren and Impulse’s commune looks!”
Scar hummed, looking out over the fields of flowers and trees, all the way over to the three men’s van’s in the distance.
“I have to admit, it does look ahmayzing! Very aesthetically pleasing.” Grian grinned.
“Why thank you!”
“Nothing that you built or terraformed, though.”
“Wha-“ Scar started snickering. “Scar! You do know that I terraformed and built most of it, right?!”
“I know, I know! It was a joke, G-man, I absolutely love what you’ve done with the place.’
“You better.”
The two relax back against the hill they were resting on, both enamoured by the exquisite view that was presented before them. For a brief moment, the air was still, and it seemed as if the wind no longer carried any sound. Breaking the serene silence, Scar spoke up again.
“This view truly is breathtaking, though.” He turned to look at Grian, surprised to find the avian was already watching him. Tilting his head with a soft smile, he continued. “Isn’t it, Grian?”
Grian smirked at him mischievously, when he spoke, his voice was practically a purr. “Not as beautiful as you.”
Scar blinked at him, caught off guard, and felt his face flush with embarrassment. Grian snickered, watching as Scar glanced back at the view then over at Grian. “I… don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that. Thank you?”
Grian burst into laughter, turning away, and covering his mouth to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks. He hadn’t anticipated this reaction from the man who was constantly flirting with others. “You gave me that opening! Did you seriously expect me not to take it?!”
When Grian wasn’t looking, Scar smiled again. His expression was achingly soft as he watched Grian, doubled over in joy.
Void, he was in love with this man.
III – Season 7, Grian and Mumbo:
Grian stared blankly at the sunrise from where he sat in one of the countless towering jungle trees, a little unsure of what to do with himself.
“You okay up there, Gri?” A familiar voice called out from the ground far below him. He startled, leaning forward slightly to peek down at whoever was standing on the ground.
“Oh, hey Mumbo.” The Hermit tilted his head and scrunched up his nose – something that grian could barely see from this distance, staring up at his friend.
“Grian, saying ‘hello’ most definitely does not answer my question.”
“What’s your point?” Grian tilted his head with a small grin.
“Okay, I’m coming up, you weirdo.”
Grian sat back against the tree, relaxing again as he listened to the vaguely amusing sounds of his friend struggling to climb the tall tree. He was not at all planning on offering any sort of help to Mumbo despite having wings and being plenty strong enough to carry the other.
Mumbo was panting, his limbs shaking from exertion by the time he finally pulled himself up to the branch that Grian was resting on. Grian smirked into the fading light.
“So, did you enjoy your climb?” Mumbo slowly turned his head to stare at Grian, breath still heaving, seemingly trying to find something to say.
“You are insufferable.” He decided, turning back to watch the setting sun. Grian burst into laughter.
“If I’m so insufferable, then why do you put up with me?” He cried, amusement lacing both his tone and expression.
“Maybe because you’re cute.” Mumbo grumbled before slapping a hand over his mouth when he realised what he said.
Grian stared at him, jaw dropped in shock as he processed what he had just been told. “Did- did you just-“
Mumbo buried his burning red face in his hands, unsuccessfully trying to hide the blush that was now creeping down his neck and up his cheeks. Grian turned back to the view, leaving the two to sit in a shocked and flustered silence.
After almost twenty minutes of somehow comfortable silence, Mumbo finally pulled his hands away from his mouth, having dragged them down his face after about ten minutes. Grian watched him through his peripheral vision, waiting patiently (which was a strange thing for him to do) for him to say something.
“Uh…” Mumbo chuckled nervously. “As pretty as this view is, and as much as I love y—I mean—love hanging out with you, I should really be going now. Sorry, buddy.”
Grian cringed minusculely, but nodded in understanding nonetheless, watching in silence as Mumbo slowly but carefully clambered backdown the tree. As soon as the taller was on the ground and walking away, Grian dropped his head into his hands with an annoyed groan. Thankfully, no one was there to see as tears welled up in his eyes and slipped down his cheeks.
I always mess everything up.
IV – Season 7, Grian and Scar:
A crash pulled Grian away from where he was trading with the villagers in his mansion.
‘What was that?’ He wondered, drifting toward the front of the build where the sound had originated.
There was a strangely rustling sound coming from just outside the front door of the mansion, almost as if some sort of small animal was stuck in one of the bushes and trying to get out.
Frowning, Grian pushed the door open, looking at all the bushes around the top of the staircase. One of the bushes rustled with movement, though it was only one out of the many and there was no breeze that could be the cause of the bushes moving.
Grian stared at it in pure confusion. It didn’t seem to be any sort of hostile mob, it was too big to be most animals and he couldn’t think of any that it could possibly be, anyway.
He took one step forward, ready to confront whatever animal may or may not have been sitting in the bush, when Scar stumbled out of it, a broken elytra strapped to his back, and leaves and sticks tangled all through his hair. Startled, Grian stepped away.
“Grian!” He pushed himself to his feet, staggering slightly and almost falling over before stabilising himself. “My friend! Terribly sorry about the intrusion, I was heading back to the shopping district, you see, and-“
“Scar,” Grian cut him off. “You don’t have to explain yourself, I kinda figured that you crashed given that your elytra is very clearly broken-“ he gestured to the ragged fabric, barely held together by a rusted metal frame. “-and you were crawling around in my bushes. Also your suit is ripped, and that doesn’t seem like something you’d allow yourself to walk around in, Mr Mayor. I thought you were supposed to look respectable.”
His tone turned dramatic as he pretended to be offended by Scar’s ruffled appearance, the taller man smirking mirthfully in response.
“Oh, my sincerest apologies, dear citizen.” He placed his hand on his chest just as dramatically as Grian had been. “I’ll certainly do my best to be more presentable the next time we meet.”
The two men took a moment to giggle at each other’s shenanigans before calming down again.
“You wanna come inside, Scar? Maybe get cleaned up a bit? The mansions not all too liveable right now but theres both a bedroom and bathroom and bathroom in there somewhere.” Scar gave him a small yet grateful smile that sent the avian’s heart soaring.
“I’d like that, thank you Grian."
Grian smiled back at him, hands shaking in such a minuscule way that he hoped it wasn’t noticeable to Scar. He hung around the taller man all the time, why was he suddenly so nervous about it.
Besides, it wasn’t like he found him attractive or anything-
Oh, crap.
V – Season 8, Grian and Pearl:
Grian sighed contentedly as he walked up the mountain near where he and the rest of the Boatem Crew would be building their bases this season. The sun was setting on the horizon and Grian sat on the highest point of the mountain, smiling softly as he admired the view and the beautiful colours of the setting sun.
The breeze that swept past him was strangely calming, ruffling his feathers, and brushing through his hair. His surroundings were quiet enough that it was easy to hear the footsteps coming up behind him.
His first thought was that it would be either Mumbo or Scar, but there was no reason for either of them to be visiting Grian up on this mountain. Besides, no one had even been in sight when Grian had flown up to the top of the mountain, nor had anyone been on the mountain and there was no way they could get up here so fast when neither had an elytra yet. Impulse also didn’t have his elytra yet this season, and there was only other member of Boatem with natural wings-
“Hey, Pearl. Didn’t expect to see you up here!”
Pearl hummed as she sat on the rocky ground just next to him, legs dangling over the edge of the precipice.
“Honestly, I’m just kinda wondering why you’re not over there with those two.” She gestured to where Mumbo and Scar were laying in the grass far below on the ground, watching the stars as they faded into view. Grian gave her a bemused look. “What? C’mon G, I’ve only been here one day, surely I’m allowed to tease you about your non-existent love life just a little!” The avian squawked in offence to his love life being called non-existent (not that Mumbo and Scar even had anything to do with his love life, why would they?), but Pearl ignored him. “It’s extremely obvious that you like them, why don’t you just tell them?”
“Because I don’t like them! Not like that! Pearl, they’re my friends. Nothing more, nothing less.” Grian sighed, exasperated.
Pearl stared at him; expression completely blank. She clearly didn’t believe him.
“Grian, you’re one of my oldest friends.” The man in question frowned, glancing over at her, slightly worried about where she was going with this. “I’ve known you for almost a decade now. I know how to tell when you’re in love with someone. There is a certain way that you act. You acted that way with Taurtis back on EVO, and you’re acting that same way now with Mumbo and Scar.”
Grian huffed. “Oh, yeah? And how did I act?”
“Well, if you really wanna know.” Grian straightened, vaguely panicked. He hadn’t expected her to actually have a response to that! “You get flustered much more easily, especially around them, you subconsciously try to avoid them as a way to avoid your feelings, you get really anxious about anything to do with them, you through yourself into your work more. Would you like me to go one?”
“NO! Uh, I, uh.” Grian cleared his throat ignoring the smug look that Pearl shot him. “I- I mean ‘no’.”
Pearl hummed again, leaning back against her hands, and letting her moth wings stretch out behind her, leaving Grian to his thoughts, and-
Oh, void.
“Welp,” Pearl stood. “I best be going now, stuff to do, things to gather, sleep to avoid, y’know how it is. See ya later, Grian.” Grian hummed in acknowledgment and Pearl flew off, back to what seemed to be the start of an upside-down boat.
Grian sighed, turning his attention from the beautiful starry night sky to the two just as beautiful men still laying in the grass. Pearl’s words bounced around in his head like a pinball machine as he silently watched the two interact.
“It’s extremely obvious that you like them, why don’t you just tell them?”
“You acted that way with Taurtis back on EVO, and you’re acting that same way now with Mumbo and Scar.”
Grian hunched over himself, rubbing his temples when his head started to pang.
Crap.
VI - Season 8, Grian, Mumbo and Scar
The moon is big.
That is all Grian allows himself to think about as he stares up at the moon through the gap in the ceiling of his observatory.
The moon is big. Too big to be able to see any other part of the night sky.
It bothered Grian, the fact that he couldn’t see the stars. He had always, for as long as he could remember, loved watching them as they twinkled in the sky. But now he couldn’t, and it bothered him.
“G-man?” A familiar melodious voice called out. Grian ignored him, content to just stare at the overwhelming brightness of the moon above him. “Gri? Are you up here?”
“Grian?” An equally familiar voice asked gently. This one much closer, and much quieter than the other. Footsteps approached where he lay in the middle of the observatory, stopping just out of his line of sight. “Grian?” They crouched down, a handsome moustached face came into view, easily diverting his attention away from the moon. “Are you okay? Why are you just lying in the middle of your observatory?”
Grian blinked up at him lazily, watching as Scar appeared behind the taller man. “Moon big.” He shrugged as best he could lying on the ground. Mumbo and Scar both gave him concerned looks. Grian ignored them and turned back to stare at the moon with a scowl. Mumbo shifted to sit properly on the quartz ground, and Scar moved around to sit on Grian’s other side. They both followed his annoyed gaze up to the moon above them
“Are you upset because of the moon? Or something else related to it?” Scar asked gently, looking back down at him.
Grian shrugged again, offering a simple. “I can’t see the stars.”
Mumbo gave him a sympathetic look, reaching over to run his fingers gently through Grian’s hair. “You’ve probably not gotten much sleep either.” Grian hummed, closing his eyes, relaxing easily as he leaned into the soft touch.
There was a short moment of silence in which Grian allowed himself to drift off just a little, now only semi-conscious to the world around him. As he drifted, he half payed attention to Mumbo and Scar’s hushed conversation.
“He clearly hasn’t slept in a while, I know you want to tell him – I do too! – but we should let him rest first.”
There was a sigh.
“I know, I know. I guess it’s just because the longer I wait, the more anxious about it I get. But at the same time, I’m not exactly sure I’m completely ready to tell him and am now just procrastinating it.”
In his sleep deprived state, Grian couldn’t decipher what exactly they were talking about. Did they want to tell him something? If so what? And why were they so anxious about it? He didn’t get to even voice his questions, let alone get any answers to them, before the fog at the edges of his consciousness took over and he completely fell asleep.
☆☆☆
When Grian awoke, it was to the smell of freshly baked biscuits, the sound of a soft humming tune, and a hand carding through his hair.
He chirped happily, leaning further into the soft touch of someone’s hand in his hair, much the same way he had done before falling asleep. The only response he was given was that of a small chuckle. He blinked a couple of times to allow his eyes to adjust to the bright light of the sun before opening them completely and taking in his surroundings.
He was laying on an extremely comfortable bed in someone’s—probably Scar’s if the size of the room and the fact that there even was a bed was anything to go on—base, wrapped up in soft, warm blankets. Mumbo was sitting on a chair that he had clearly pulled over to be next to Grian. He was the one stroking Grian’s hair, long nimble fingers carefully running through the tangled golden strands.
“Good morning, sleepy head.” Mumbo greeted upon noticing him awake and looking around. “Are you more awake now that you’ve had some time to rest?”
Grian thought for a moment, assessing how exactly he felt before responding. “I think so? I don’t really know, I feel like everything with the moon is just messing with my head. I feel fine, but at the same time I feel like crap and I’m not exactly sure why.”
Mumbo nodded in understanding just as Scar appeared in the doorway, a plate of biscuits in hand. He looked a little concerned, but he quickly lit up when he saw that Grian was awake, very similarly to how Mumbo had not a few moments earlier.
“Grian! It��s good to see you’re awake! I made cookies if you want some?” He stepped fully into the room, walking over to where the other two men sat–Grian having pushed himself up when Scar appeared–and presenting the plate of biscuits as a sort of offering. They certainly did look delicious, Scar had made them after all. There was an assortment of different biscuits on the plate, though the two that caught Grian’s attention were the chocolate ones–which, as an avian, he made a mental note to avoid–and the shortbread–one of his favourites.
“Can I have one as well-?” Grian snickered at the pleading look on Mumbo’s face glancing over at Scar to find the other just watching Mumbo, his face completely expressionless. Grian snickered again.
“I don’t know, can you?” Mumbo’s hopeful expression turned to one of internal pain.
“Please stop with the dad jokes, you’re not even a father. Can I have a biscuit or not?”
“I dunno, what do you think, Grian?” Grian grinned at the two when they turned to look at him.
“Stay away from the shortbread and you won’t get bitten. Other than that I don’t care.” Scar and Mumbo both let out startled laughs, Grian’s grin just widened with mirth.
When Grian thought about it, the moment seemed strangely domestic. It was just the three of them, sitting in Scar’s bedroom, sharing the plate of biscuits between them. Grian took a moment to just revel in the peacefulness of it all. The sun peeking in through a gap in the curtains, filling the room with warmth. The bed was comfortable, maybe even one of the most comfortable things Grian had ever laid on, the blankets were soft and there was plenty of space, enough for all three of them to sit comfortably. He almost didn’t want this moment to end.
“Hey, Grian?” Mumbo’s voice brought Grian out of the mess of his thoughts and back into the present, the nervous tone causing him to frown in concern. “Can we talk to you about something?”
“Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?” Mumbo’s eyes widened in the realisation of how his words may have sounded.
“Oh! Yeah, everything’s fine! We just have something that we want to tell you. It’s nothing bad, we promise.” Scar nodded in agreement, looking just as, if not more nervous than Mumbo. Grian relaxed slightly, still somewhat concerned, though soothed by the confirmation that nothing was wrong.
“Okay, go ahead.” Mumbo nodded and glanced back at Scar for reassurance, receiving a shaky smile in return. He took a deep breath and turned back to Grian who raised an eyebrow at them. “What’s this about?”
“So,” Scar started uncertainly. “You know how Mumbo and I have been dating since early season seven?”
Grian nodded, a wave of some unpleasant emotion rippling through him at the simple question. Scar bobbed his head slightly in a small nod of understanding before continuing.
“And you know that you’re one of our closest friends and that we would do anything for you?” Grian nodded again, tilting his head as he tried to decipher where Scar was going with this (ignoring that unpleasant emotion that coursed through his veins, growing with each passing second). “Yeah? Where are you going with this exactly?”
“Well- we were, um. We-“ Mumbo placed a comforting hand against Scar’s arm and Grian watched them with growing concern.
“You- you guys do know that you don’t have to tell me this right? Whatever this is.”
“We know.” Mumbo guaranteed, holding up his free hand in a placating gesture. “And we want to tell you. It’s just a little nerve-wracking.”
“Okay…”
“Anyway, what we want to ask is if you maybe, possibly wanted to join our relationship?” Mumbo’s voice trailed off into silence as he spoke, anxiety getting the best of him. Grian froze. He didn’t know what exactly he was expecting, but this wasn’t it.
Not that he was complaining though.
“You- you really want me to join your relationship?“ He stared at them in surprise, cheeks burning. The two of them were clearly flustered, maybe even a little ashamed, neither one was looking at him. And that just wouldn’t do. “Hey,” his voice was gentle, almost as if he were talking down a scared animal. “Guys, I’m not mad at you. Honestly even if I didn’t like you back, I don’t think it would be possible for me to be mad at you. Not for something like this.”
Mumbo didn’t seem to properly register his words beyond the confirmation that he wasn’t going to start yelling at them. Scar, on the other hand.
“Did you just say that you like us back?”
Mumbo also looked up, shocked. Grian blinked. He hadn’t realised that he had said that.
“Yeah, yeah I do.” He offered a soft small, receiving stunned stares in response. “And I would love to join your relationship.”
Scar snapped out of his reverie sooner than Mumbo. The elf surged forward, wrapping Grian up in a tight, yet comforting and warm embrace. “Oh, thank Void! I was terrified that you were gonna say ‘no’ and that our friendship was gonna be ruined forever! I am so glad that you didn’t say no!”
Grian laughed, the unpleasant emotion that had been swirling in his chest was gone now, replaced by giddiness and euphoria. He wrapped his arms around Scar in return, humming happily when he felt another pair of arms around them, a second body pressed against his side. He brought his wings around to cover the three of them like a blanket.
And that was–for the most part–how they stayed for the next couple of hours. They moved into a more comfortable position of course, even putting on a movie to watch together. A Disney movie, at Scar’s insistence. But they stayed together, always by each other’s sides.
Even at the end of the world, they stayed, because that’s what you do when you love someone.
You stay with them, right by their side, forever and always.
Because they are your home.
#mumscarianweek#b3an soup#day1prompt#bean writes stuff!!#mumscarian week is finally hereeeee#i cant wait to see what people makeeee#(this will also be posted to my ao3)
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Absolutely love ur mumbo x phantom reader! Could i request a scar x reader who has ghost abilities? They can phase through walls and float, and they are very oblivious to everything around them and unintentionally scares scar alot by phasing through walls into his builds without him hearing and gets confused everytime he jumps whenever they call out to him
Just a short little thing I wrote for this very cute little request ;u; I liked it a lot tbh
Warnings: None
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You feel the soft fabric of reality tear around you, as you push yourself through the materials of Scars home. No one really knew much about how the world itself worked, and even Admins, who were the people who understood everything the most, didn't know everything there was to know. In many ways, you were sure you would never know. People chase knowledge of reality all their lives, and come up empty. You on the other hand concerned yourself with much more trivial matters, like the fact that you were in dire need of quartz for your build and you were going to ask your lover for some. Before you knew it, you were in his home, having made it through (what was supposed to be) the walls of his home. You saw him, seemingly looking through all his shulkers, looking for something. He had such a terrible organization system, which meant none at all.
“Hello, Scar.” You said, and he jumped in place, falling over a shulker box on the ground behind him, sending him tumbling to the ground. His eyes scanned the room, before they landed on you and he let out a huge sigh of relief, placing a hand over his heart and trying to calm his heartbeat. “Oh, sweetheart, love of my life, beautiful angel.. Please use the door.” He told you, finally standing up when he assessed that his heart had calmed a good amount. Your head cocked slightly to the side, not really understanding what the issue really was. Had you scared him? “Why would I do that? It’s so much slower.” You informed him, and a soft look came over his face as he approached you and took your hands in his. He was looking at you so endearingly, like you were the most cutest thing he had ever seen. “I get that, sweetheart, but you scare the life out of me when you just appear like that. If you use the door I will actually hear you.” He explained, and you nodded, knowing you had this conversation at least 2 or 3 times before, but you always forgot.
It had been an incredibly long time since you died in your last SMP and became like this, and you had just become so used to doing everything the way that you did. And it didn’t really help that you had a terrible memory. “I’m sorry Scar. I don’t mean to scare you.” You replied, but it wasn’t like he was mad at you at all. He was always so patient with you, so caring and kind. “It’s okay, just try at least. You scare me so much every time.” He laughed, and you laughed along with him. Then after a second of just staring, basking in his touch you suddenly remembered why you were there. “Do you have any quartz?” You asked him, and he separated his hands from yours, and went to look through his boxes, producing what you needed. But as you were about to reach for it, he pulled his hands back. You looked at him, questioningly.
“Nothing comes for free, sweetheart!” He exclaimed, and you crossed your arms. You should have known honestly, just knowing Scar. Nothing he ever did was truly free, even for you. No matter how much he loved you, it was just how he operated. “So, what do you have to pay me back with?” He wondered, and you thought about it. Quartz was such a hard job to get, having to get quite a few veins for each stack of blocks you needed. And Scar was offering you quite a few stacks. “You know I don’t have a lot to work with, babe.” You informed him, and he smiled, obviously thinking of something devious.
“I can think about quite a few ways.” He finally concluded, a mischievous smile on his face.
#hermitcraft x you#hermitcraft x y/n#hermitcraft x reader#Goodtimeswithscar x y/n#Goodtimeswithscar x reader#Goodtimeswithscar x you
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❧ "I didn’t say goodnight”
Pairing: Mumbo/Grian (romantic)
Word count: 1,256
Warnings: Includes what may be a panic attack, but I don’t know enough about them to say that with certainty. I think that qualifies as angst. Ask for more warnings if necessary
Summary: Mumbo is working late, and Grian is getting just a bit lonely, but it seems there’s a little more to the puzzle than that.
Author’s note: The first fic of mine I’ve ever posted! umm critical feedback may be ignored bc im just doing this for fun but I’ll consider it ^^ Pointing out typos is always appreciated! The pair is in an established relationship and live together. Please enjoy :)
Grian stared down the empty side of the bed with discontent. He’s tried to sleep, but at least an hour of struggle has passed to no avail. He knows Mumbo said he would be working late, he knows he told Mumbo he understood, and he knows he’s working on something important. Maybe he wouldn’t be so restless if Mumbo hadn’t been acting so odd lately.
Grian pawed absentmindedly at where Mumbo should be. Just shut your eyes and go to bed. You can’t just ask him to stop working. He tried to knit eyes closed, honestly he did. Don’t be selfish. You sleep beside each other every day, you can handle one night without him. Grian knew this much logically, shouldn’t that be enough to coax him to sleep?
Grian sat up with a knot in his gut. If he just said goodnight to Mumbo one last time, he would be satisfied. Yeah, yeah! He’d just walk out that door and into Mumbo’s workshop, kiss him goodnight, give him a big hug, and he’d finally be able to fall fast asleep. It’s a plan.
So he padded through their dark base, keeping a hand dragging across the walls he passed for a bit of stability and wings dragging along the floor. Down the stairs, turn at the hallway, and open the door. The welcoming squeak of the floorboards beneath him as he walked closer to desk made Mumbo jump sharply, turning to see Grian in his loose pajamas and feathers misaligned and trailing the floor behind him.
“Hiii! Mumb!” Grian’s chirp came out as a slurry of sleep.
“My love, what are you doing up?” Mumbo’s words weren’t much more awake than Grian’s.
As Grian approached, Mumbo swiveled around and they wordlessly embraced in a hug. Grian buried his head down into Mumbo’s neck, taking as much of a breath of him as possible before he knew he would have to go back. Mumbo seemed to relish just as much, holding onto Grian’s back as if they had to hold so tightly if they wanted to stay upright.
In sync, they pulled away.
“Grian it’s…” Mumbo pulled back his sleeve “it’s past midnight, you have to be up tomorrow.”
“I’m only saying goodnight.. n’ then I’ll go back.”
Mumbo’s heart thumped and his face of knitted worry softened just a bit. “My dear…”
Grian reached for Mumbo’s face, staring at his eyes for a thick moment before planting a kiss square on his forehead. “How much longer do you still have to work, Mumb?”
Mumbo’s eyes widened, then he quickly turned back to his work, trying to hide the way his face knitted with worry once again.
“Erm, well. I’m… About that I’m… See you don’t really need to worry about it I’m sure I can… it’s… erm…”
Oh. Grian was expecting a concrete answer. He craned to get a better look at Mumbo, but Mumbo flinched into turning further away.
“Mumbo? Are you alright?”
“Yea—! Er, well no yeah it’s not- I’ll be fi—no it’s fine, really!”
Grian’s feathers bristled.
“Mumbo, tell me what all of this is about.”
“You said you’d go to sleep after you told me goodnight.”
“And I didn’t say goodnight yet.”
Mumbo finally swallowed, stared up at Grian, and sighed. He braced his grip on the rim of his stool.
“I haven’t—” he choked, “—I haven’t been working on this blueprint Iskall asked me to rework. He asked me—“ he curled in on himself and hugged his sides, “—2 weeks ago. And I just haven’t been working on it! I haven’t been working on it and he’s been asking for it and I just haven’t done it.” Mumbo started to breathe quickly, and flung arm gestures into the air in front of him.
The twinge of disgust in Mumbo’s voice wrought Grian’s heart with distress. “And I don’t know why! I’ve quite literally had all the time in the world, Iskall’s been the most understanding and each time he asks for it I disappoint him and I’m so sick of disappointing him and—“
“Mumbo! Mumbo listen to me! Stop! Oh—“ Grian grasped Mumbo’s shoulders and attempted to pull Mumbo to face him, but Mumbo was so stiff and his chest raising so quickly that he couldn’t move him. “Mumbo if you would breathe—“ Grian tried shouting so Mumbo could hear him over his sobbing. Thinking quickly, he wiggled himself between the stool and the desk and used the leverage from the furniture to push the chair back just a bit with the force of his legs. When just grabbing a hold of either shoulder didn’t draw Mumbo’s attention, he took a hold of mumbo chin, and pulled it up to face him. Mumbo’s eyes were clearly clouded with tears but he started finally gasping for breath.
“Mumbo breathe for me, can you please?”
Mumbo’s heaves came out terribly trembling, but continued them thankfully.
“Oh good, Mumbo, good job. Great job, that’s it,” Grian worried circles into Mumbo’s shoulders. “My poor thing.”
Mumbo’s body shuddered just a couple more times before stilling. Sniffles continuously rose from him.
“Mumbo if you can hear me, please hear that you doing so well. Not breathing, I mean. You’re doing fine work on the blueprint, Iskall is your friend and he will understand.”
“I’m awful.”
“You will not say that again. How awful could you possibly be if you’re killing yourself over this desk in the middle of the night, trembling and shaking like a rabbit in front of a.. a hawk! Just trying to do a favor for your friend? I know you feel bad. We can fix this Mumbo, but we can’t fix it in the state you’re in now if you could breathe for me just a bit more.” Grian pulled Mumbo’s disheveled hair up and out of his eyes.
Hushed, Mumbo shivered. “Grian. I don’t know what to do.”
“We will figure this out Mumbo. I will help you.”
“You’re too… kind to me Gri.”
“You’re silly. You’re quite silly Mumbo.”
“I’m not silly,” Mumbo sniffed.
“Right right right, of course. Would you like to come to bed with me? Get out of your work clothes. It’s not good to be dressed up like that for so long y’know.”
“Who says that?”
“I do. And I say you’re coming to bed and we’ll think about this in the morning.”
“I’m sorry Grian.”
“No, you’re coming to bed, you don’t get that choice.”
“Not about that! Not about that! I mean, sorry for troubling you.”
“Would you quit with that, your struggles are never worth an apology. Especially to me.” Grian closed in on Mumbo once more and hugged Mumbo tightly, another kiss to his forehead.
Mumbo put up no further resistance and leaned on Grian for the majority of the way to their bedroom. Down the hallway, up the stairs, though the door.
Mumbo in his pajama pants and Grian leading him under the covers, Mumbo offered a new question. “How did you know, Grian?”
“Hm? Know what?”
“How did you know I needed help?”
“Wasn’t it obvious?”
“I mean how you knew to come downstairs to me.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that. I just—“ Grian stopped himself, now fitted under the blankets and Mumbo snuggling closer and closer into Grian’s chest. “I well, um.”
Mumbo raised his head, looking up to try and find Grian’s eyes this time. Mumbo expected a concrete answer.
With Grian’s absence of a response, Mumbo smirked. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you missed me?”
“Oh shut up.”
Author’s note: Tell me if you liked that! it’s very self-indulgent so i ask you be a little nice ^^; I’d also love to get to know more writers in hermitshipblr bc this is my first time ever posting stuff! Also... how do i tag this lmao
#hermitshipping#grumbo#grian x mumbo#panic attack#angst#hermitcraft fanfic#mcyt#mcyt fanfic#po writes
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Signing Back In, Apparently - 12
Prev/Next
“You’ll be okay on your own?”
“Yeah, Grian, I think I’d like a chance to walk around on my own for a bit anyway. Take it all in, you know? Catch me up later, will you?” Mumbo got to his feet, looking back in the direction of the dock. Or, what he thought was the direction of the dock; it was easy to get turned around. With the amount of landmarks around though, he probably wouldn’t have any trouble finding his way back.
“Of course. But if you miss out on something amazing, you better not blame me.”
“You’re going to be the one missing out. I’m going to play in the sand and dig a hole or something and it’s going to be great. You’ll be like, wow, I sure wish I had gone and made a little stick castle while I had the chance.”
“True, but I want to try one of these flight courses first. Maybe I’ll meet you later. I guess it all depends on when Scar decides he’s done. Not that he can leave without Cleo. Actually, I take it back, he would absolutely leave without Cleo,” Grian hopped up, joining Mumbo on his feet. He waved as he looked toward the distant noise, “See you in a bit.”
Mumbo nodded, smiling as he went. There was sudden joy in his newfound solitude, a childish excitement that he could do anything at all, and no one could see him. He welcomed every distraction on his way back to the dock, probably touching multiple things he shouldn’t, just to see what might happen. There were all sorts of little (and big) machines scattered through the shopping district, and he made sure to spend not-insignificant amounts of time trying to figure out what they did and how they worked. Maybe one of the more engineer-aligned ghosts could show him the next time he came back. Next time. Would there be a next time?
After getting lost about four or five times, Mumbo finally found his way back to the dock. It was perfectly lovely to explore every nook and cranny of the shopping district at his pace, but now he really was ready to sit and daydream about life here. Or maybe make a stick fort. He was still undecided on that point. Oh, look at that, someone had come and fixed the dock! Mumbo approached the boat, delighted to see he was still the only person here.
Well, at least until someone else groaned. A startled yelp escaped Mumbo’s throat, and he floated cautiously over the top to see Scar laying face down and shirtless in a bed of pillows, speckled with various injuries. Most prominent were the dark bandages wrapped across his back, contrasted heavily by the dozens of colorful bandaids dotting his arms. A small vase of flowers sat beside the pillows, a little note sticking out of the top that said ‘Thanks for the blood!’ in decorated print.
“Christ,” Mumbo laughed, “I take it you had a bad day?”
“I want to go home.” Scar’s voice was muffled from the pillows, and he made no effort to look up.
“I can see that. You know, I did think it was odd we weren’t being dragged back already, but I didn’t think it was because you physically couldn’t. I guess that should have been obvious.”
“Tell them to take me back.”
“Uh, no.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“I thought you didn’t like to see me this way.”
“I like it when my friends are having a great time. And they are. So I’ll probably just leave you here and, I don’t know, build a little fort or something? I can do anything.” Mumbo let himself touch the ground, circling Scar in a quick examination before heading in the opposite direction.
“Don’t leave me.”
Mumbo stopped. Oh, he hated that he stopped, but there was a certain desperation there that he just couldn’t ignore. Scar wanted him to stay, and damn it, Mumbo wanted to be wanted by him. When Mumbo turned around, Scar was looking up, his hair a complete mess over his battered face. God, it was so pathetic.
“You look stupid.”
Scar laughed, face planting back into his pillows, “They couldn’t pick a theme!”
Mumbo sighed, sitting down. He listened to Scar as he told a colorful tale of today’s adventure, first with Cub and the vex creature, and then later with Zedaph. He had thought Zed might have been there to help, but it took very little convincing on Cub’s part to get the other ghost on board. Scar spared no gruesome detail, but Mumbo was pretty sure he was also sprinkling in some flourishes of his own. If nothing else, it seemed like complaining about it was making him feel better. Mumbo enjoyed the outraged tone Scar’s voice would take when he said the word ‘ghosts’ as if the real reason he was so upset was because it shouldn’t have been able to happen.
“I feel like you’re less mad about the stolen blood and more upset that ghosts exist.”
“Well if I lost a fair fight then they can take all the blood they want, but nothing with ghosts is fair as far as I’m concerned. At the very least with Cub we had some sort of deal, I can respect that.”
“Ah, because you deal in fairness.”
“I like a nice illusion, sue me. Though, if I may be so bold, I think I’ve been getting the short end of the stick lately.”
“That is bold.”
“Well, you know me,” Scar sighed, adjusting his position. So relaxed, like his words hadn’t meant anything at all. They didn’t mean anything. But Mumbo couldn’t keep himself from freezing, shoulders tense. It was enough for the atmosphere to shift. Enough for Scar to notice. Scar turned to look up, just in time for Mumbo to speak.
“Do I?” A challenge. Scar was quick to recognize it, he always was. There was something infuriating about the casually pensive look that crossed his face, eyes unfocused as he considered. It was just an interesting thought. It was inconsequential. It didn’t matter.
“You’re upset,” Scar said. That was all he said; just an observation. A statement so obvious, made even more so by the splintering cracks in Mumbo’s back. Scar could feel them in his own. They were spreading.
“You didn’t answer me.”
“I didn’t realize you cared so much.”
Mumbo flinched back, regret crashing heavy on his shoulders, “I don’t care.” There was panic there, a sinking, desperation to wind back his words. To have never asked.
Scar smiled.
For the first time, Mumbo wanted him dead. To kneel over his weakened frame with his own hands on Scar’s neck, to squeeze , to feel him struggle, wheeze, and slowly fall. To be part of that last breath. If he wanted to, Mumbo could kill him. It would be easy. He could grab a rock from the shore and make a real mess of things. But he didn’t want blood. Blood wasn’t personal enough, not to him. If he was going to kill Scar, he would use only his hands.
“Haven’t seen that before,” Scar spoke lightly, tip-toeing on the thinnest ice, “Murder is a nice look on you. It’s frightening. Electric.”
Mumbo’s gaze refocused. But the moment had not passed. He did not speak.
“I wouldn’t mind if it was you,” Scar’s voice was so, so soft. Not meek. Not afraid. Gentle, almost. “You’re the type to feel bad, even with me. You don’t have to.”
Mumbo got to his feet. The boat did not quiver as his feet left the edge, stepping down to the dock. It did not miss him. It couldn’t, he had no weight to leave a mark. He had no real body. He left, back into the woods. Scar’s eye followed him the entire way. He did not come back.
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Something I was working on in church.(I realise that recently I’ve been going through all my unfinished ideas and I’m write do much for each! It’s so lovely when you leave unfinished ideas for a month and when you come back your mind wants to work again!)
Don’t trust the fae next door, It’s your love he’ll steal.
Living in a forest that was rumoured to hold many faes was probably one of the dumbest things Mumbo and Scar could have ever done. But hey! The plus side is, they made a new friend!
★ ☆ ✰ ★ ☆ ✰ ★ ☆ ✰ ★ ☆ ✰ ★ ☆ ✰ ★
You know, most people would think not to buy a house, that’s was extra cheap(My word!), next to forest rumoured to house one of the most dangerous hybrids. Most people would look somewhere else, they rather not have a change to lose their soul.(I’ve already sold half of mine!) Most people would’ve left the moment they saw where and how cheap it was, seeing it as s
But Mumbo and Scar aren’t most people. Actually Scar is dumber then most people.(Hey!) Mumbo was human. Just plain human, which makes him moving here even more stupid.(I’m just weak to the puppy eyes!) And Scar was half elvish, which means he’d probably survive meeting a fae, but the change of death isn’t that much lower then being human!(I can’t die! Who will take care of Jellie?!)
First few days were fine, tho things did go missing a lot.(Especially my cookies! My poor poor cookies..) Mumbo attempted to grow some vegetables, but the next day it looked like they had been bonemealed then stolen.(It’s honestly quite rude.) They tried many different ways of trying to stop whoever this thief was.(I’m telling you, it’s not Jellie! She’s just a baby.) But nothing work, even the trap had been set off and it was a really bad and obvious trap!
They would’ve moved if the house wasn’t so cheap, in a nice neighbourhood and so close to their jobs. (And no one comes to bother us cause their scared of the forest next door!) So they hatched a plan,(Wha- No! I hatched a plan! Scar made cookies!)
The plan was simple, whenever Scar wasn’t able to work on a day, he’d wake up to snacks and drinks(Mumbo I’m telling you, it’s the same cookies I made too!) The next time Scar wasn’t having the best day, he stayed up. But tried his hardest to look like he was asleep, then low and behold beautiful man came in as if like magic,(I would say he was be-uti-ful!) and started to check on Scar.
The man checked Scar as he was a baby wolf that broke its leg and the man was the mother trying to help it. (I- I guess that makes sense with how motherly he asks? I’m not quite sure..) He check him for any fevers or cuts, which as his name suggests, he as a lot.
[I would’ve finished it but I’ve got a busy day tomorrow and I feel like I’ll forget to send this so here! If I do finish it I might put it on ao3 or just my blog-]
I felt like doing a different writing style than usual. So it’s like the characters can hear the narrator but they can’t actually hear the narrator- idk how to explain it
-🌺🪸🥀
(please give me this power to finish my TP au- to finish anything really, i got so many wips)
Whatever this style of writing is i enjoy it. its like im talkin to someone-- anyways I LOVE THIS!! who is the man- is it Grian- is it someone else- WAH
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(One) Medical exemption
***Reader Request***
Word Count - 3,500
Perspective - 3rd person, Daryl’s POV *this is a first attempt, so be prepared for it to seem like one XD*
When - Alexandria, pre-Negan
Relationships - Daryl x (doctor!) reader
Genre - very fluffy. Hey, it’s fanfic
Pronouns - she/her
TWs - “you” may have been in the Navy once, but don’t ya know, Daryl is the one with the mouth of a sailor
“Nope, get your butt back here, Daryl. You’re limping.”
He felt his pulse start to quicken. Damn it, when would that stop? He’d already hung out with and eaten dinner with her a ton of times and held her hand!
Maybe he’d feel better after they finally, you know, kissed.
Yeah, maybe...maybe he should buck up and finally kiss her. It’d been long enough, so she was probably waiting for that. And he really liked her. And trusted her.
“I’m just going to lightly palpate here, okay? If you feel any pain or discomfort, tell me.”
Damn, he loved how she talked. Didn’t know what half the stuff meant if it was medical, but he just loved hearing her voice. She’d been raised in North Dakota before she went to Maryland as part of her Navy medic training, then after she was out of the military, had gone to Virginia to do her residency, where by chance she ended up in Alexandria after shit hit the fan.
Whoa, that tickled! He tried not to laugh, but it just came out. Giggling back quietly, she said “Sorry, didn’t realize how ticklish you are.”
She never lost that Midwestern accent and he loved that about her. And how she would just bust out into that medical mumbo jumbo made it all the more interesting. But it was even better when she tried to copy his own accent, because it just sounded so damned cute.
But shit, why was she now feeling around there, and why was she crouched down like that?
“Damn, woman!” comes out before he can stop himself.
“Mind out of the gutter, handsome – but if you feel self-conscious or unsafe, please say so,” she tells him, and immediately stops what she was doing.
He shakes his head and mumbles back “M’sorry. You’re just makin’ sure I ain’t hurt too bad.”
She smiles at him and resumes her examination, saying “Your comfort level is still important, though. Tell me if you need me to stop at any point.”
The tricky part was trying not to think too much about how close she was to his...you know. But hey, if she had to examine his hips, she had to examine his hips.
That was the other thing he loved about her. She didn’t pressure him when it came to the physical parts of their relationship. Everything about what they had felt easy, smooth, natural, safe. Like breathing or some shit.
“Now, from where did you fall exactly, Daryl?” she asked, brows low as she concentrated on what she was doing.
“Whoa, get a room, guys,” Glenn suddenly snickers from the hallway, his arm covered in road rash. When did he get there? Why wasn’t he in his room??
“C’mon, get out of here, man!” Daryl shouts, embarrassed. Hopefully, the look he was giving him was saying “Not in front of her, Glenn!”
“Glenn. It’s impolite to peek into an exam room that isn’t yours,” she gently chided him. “I’m evaluating to see if we’re dealing with a complete or subluxation,” she explains, sounding completely at ease. But what the hell was sub-lucks-ay-shun? Was that bad?
“Denise, I have your patient!” she calls out sweetly. Then she looks at Glenn again and asks, concerned and curious “Glenn, did you receive those abrasions during the run?”
Okay, well that one was easy. Glenn had road rash from falling off the bike with him, so abrasion must’ve just been the fancy medical way of saying road rash.
“Glenn, what are you doing?” he heard Denise shout from down the hall. Her footsteps made their way back and she too looked into the room, where Y/N was still kneeling.
Oh what the fuck, why was Daryl getting so embarrassed at nothing? She was kneeling to examine him because he was limping, nothing more! Why was he getting all stupid about it?
Denise nudges Glenn’s shoulder. “Do I have to rat on you to Mrs. Rhee?” she puts it to him. Finger extended, she wags it and orders “Back to your room, we gotta clean up that arm.”
“Sorry, D-man,” Glenn apologizes to Daryl as he’s lead away.
“After you’ve dealt with Glenn’s abrasions, I may need you both,” Y/N calls to Denise.
“Aye aye, captain!”
Daryl swallows. Y/N seems to sense his nerves and assures him “It would be a very simple maneuver, if we even have need of it. I do need to palpate closer to the pubic area, however, I apologize.”
You can handle this, Daryl, she’s a doctor he tells himself. Also...what “maneuver” did she mean?
“Now this may feel unpleasant when I press here –”
Shit, definitely did!
“Okay, that is certainly tender then. Now call to mind the worst physical pain you’ve had in your life, Daryl. I would like you to compare how that felt to this, and rate it for me, 1-10, with 10 being the highest pain level.”
“S’fine,” he sputters out. Holy fuck that hurt!
“Sweetheart? You’re a little too tough for your own good sometimes, aren’t you?” she answers knowingly. She’s rubbing her gloved thumb along his fingers and it’s making him feel all funny in his stomach. Damned butterflies.
She stands back up and tells him “Now, I’m going to leave the room for a moment. I need you to pull down your pants and check your underwear for any signs of blood coming from either your penis or your rectum. Then tell me through the door, a simple yes or no.”
Next thing he knew he was standing alone in the room. Y/N calls to him from outside to mention that “If you could use some help, either myself or Denise can assist you, or Glenn if you would feel more comfortable with another male.”
Thank God Rick or Glenn wasn’t in there to tease him mercilessly, because Daryl got red again as soon as she mentioned the word “penis.” And God save him if Carol or Abraham could see his face. What was he, a 14 year old boy again?
“Daryl?”
“I’m good, m’good!” he quickly says, and he carefully tried to shimmy his pants and boxers down, a little too conscious of the fact that she was on just the other side of the door. “Um, it’s...it’s fine, there ain’t none of...none of that stuff goin’ on,” he awkwardly tells her.
“Now please leave your pants where they are, but pull your under garments back up, okay?” Wait, she was gonna see him in his underwear? It’s fine Dixon. She’s a doctor! “Are you able to sit down, Daryl?” she asks him through the door.
“Um, n-not really.”
“Okay, let’s keep you standing then. You’ll see I left a small blanket by the table there, that’s for you to use to cover yourself if you feel uncomfortable being in your skivvies.”
She was so damned smart and thoughtful. How the hell had he gotten so lucky? And how the hell had he not had the balls to kiss her yet?
“May I come back in, or do you need more time?”
“Nah, it’s all good.” He does end up grabbing the blanket, though.
The door clicked open, and she walks back into the room, giving him a playful wink. He really liked how she smelled. It wasn’t a perfume that she wore or nothing, it was just how she smelled.
“Daryl, I would like to have Denise come in and to take another look and give a second opinion about your injury. Would that be alright with you, or would you prefer that I simply discuss it with her? It’s up to you,” she assures him.
“Denise is cool,” he shrugs.
“Remember, you are allowed to say ‘no’ if something makes you uncomfortable.”
“Nah, she’s cool. My hip though, not so much,” he joked, wincing when he tried to put weight on the injured side.
“Oof, careful sweetheart,” Y/N coos, steadying his shoulders before quickly jogging to the doorway and calling out “Denny, please come on in when you’re done, I’d like your opinion!”
“On it, babe!” gets shouted back, and Y/N then turns to Daryl again.
“This injury,” she asks him plainly and simply, but not coldly. “Was it a result of you and Glenn falling off your bike?”
He swallows. “Maybe?”
“Please describe what happened as best as you can recall for me, Daryl.”
“We, um, we was ridin’ along when we almost hit this fuckin’ cat, the damn thing dashed out from under some broken down car to get away from a walker. I swerved, but we were on this patch of leaves and we slid out.”
“Okay. How about the event of falling, especially how your hip or leg was injured.”
This was embarrassing. He’d been riding for over a decade and still made this mistake. “I was tryin’ to keep it balanced, but it didn’t work out and I felt this tug, I dunno.”
“And do you remember hitting your head at any point during the fall?”
“Maybe? Nah, not that I can remember.”
She nods, then asks as if it were nothing “Were you wearing a helmet at the time, or riding without at the time?”
...He didn’t want to answer that question truthfully. And that was an answer for Y/N in itself.
“Alright. I’m going to do a quick sweep, because sometimes in the event of an emergency, it can be easy to not realize that we’ve hurt ourselves until much later, and with head trauma this would be especially worrisome. Do you have any head, neck, or shoulder pain right now?” she asks next, carefully moving her fingers along his scalp then swiftly along down his neck and across his shoulders, then finally his spine. She’s standing on her tippy toes.
Daryl finds himself subconsciously groaning at how nice and gentle her hands felt. It was almost like a massage. Then, his stomach flutters and he turns even redder than he’d been before after she giggles softly in response and presses a chaste kiss to his temple.
“You only get that because you’re cute, Daryl,” she murmurs. “But if none of that was painful, I’d say we can rule out any head trauma and avoid fitting you into a cervical traction collar, thank goodness. I don’t think you’d fancy that too much.”
She grabs a tissue out of the box, folds it up into a square, then – what? She put the corner into one, then into the other ear. Then into his nose? Um...
Her sweet laugh fills the room again as she lets him know that was “A quick check for cerebrospinal fluid, just to be safe.”
Cerebro-who fluid? Daryl had no idea what that shit was, but Y/N did and he loved that.
Her posture becomes more relaxed as she further explains to him “The presence of cerebrospinal fluid would be indicative of basiliar skull fracture or otherwise trauma going as deep as the dura mater, which would be just...awful!”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head in horror at the idea of whatever the hell she was just describing. A bad concussion, maybe? “I had a soldier once who was leaking CSF; but don’t ya know, we had no idea he’d gotten injured that badly until they noticed it running down his nose since the other signs were non-indicative.”
Another sigh and a shake of her head. “Now, I didn’t palpate any cranial abnormalities, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight without making sure.”
And she was telling him all of this as if her explaining it made all the sense in the world. Hot damn, he found that adorable. And generous. What would a redneck like him know about...whatever all that stuff was?
She didn’t even realize how damned smart half the stuff she said sounded. And if she never took her hand off his cheek, he wouldn’t complain.
Denise bursts into the room a second later, saying “So, did he tell you about his and Glenn’s lack of helmets on the bike yet, or did I just spoil the surprise?”
Glenn must be in the hallway because he calls to Daryl “Sorry man, she’s good.”
Y/N’s expression is amused, and she replies good-naturedly “I was working up to that point. I got a crush on this one, Denny, you know how that is.” She’s now examining his wrists and shoulders. Oh, never mind, now it’s the lower back. So efficient!
“Hey, Dixon!” Denise says loudly, and points to her head. “Helmet. Wear one. I don’t want either of you having to get scraped off the road and into a Tupperware container, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good,” she breathed, blinking and realizing just how commanding she’d suddenly been. “Hm. Hey Y/N, I could get used to hearing ‘Yes ma’am.’ Was that the best part of being in the Navy?”
“Definitely wasn’t the vacation time,” she snorts back.
Denise next rubs her hands together and says “Alright, what am I looking at?”
“Daryl, is this okay?” Y/N whispers to him, checking again that he felt comfortable with the exam. He nods, and returns the little squeeze she gave his hand.
“Denise, I want your opinion when you examine the proximal...” and whatever was said after that was beyond him. Proximal this, distal that, something about a femoral head, and an ill-ee-ack something or other and an ace-et-ab-yoo-lum. Daryl really enjoyed hearing Y/N talk about that stuff. It’s just that she was passionate about it, and so good at it!
“Daryl?”
“Mm?”
She lowers one brow and smiles. “Did you hear a word I just said?”
He blinked. “What was that again?”
“We need to re-position you, and it may cause some pain. A joint reduction of this kind is normally done under waking sedation.”
“Reduction?”
She rephrases it “Joint relocation. I can’t believe you rode home even with a partial dislocation, that must have been excruciating.”
He might have shrugged again in response, but he also found himself standing a little taller as he brushed it off. “Ain’t no big deal.”
She held her grin in as she called “Glenn, please come in now.”
First, she and Denise removed his boots while Glenn held his leg steady. This was definitely not how he pictured the first time she’d help him undress would be like. N-not that he’d imagined that too much, but sometimes it just happened, you know? She was sweet and smart and pretty and smelled nice.
And next went his jeans, which had been by his knees, at least. Daryl grumbles. Was this what them frogs in science class felt like?
He really wished he’d worn clean boxers today.
“You look good, man,” Glenn whispers. Daryl just grumbles again in response.
Y/N gave brief instructions, and on three they all lifted him and got him lying on his back (soo-pine, she called it). And oh fuck, OW!
After making an apology for the pain, she apologized once more that she had to now push aside the blanket far enough so that she could position his leg up and grip his thigh and calf. She left his private area covered, but his whole thigh was on display.
“Okay then, our culprit is ready for re-positioning. On my nod, you please push, and you please hold steady,” Y/N says to Denise and Glenn respectively. “And Daryl, please start counting down from seven.”
“Seven?”
“You betcha, seven seconds should do it, handsome,” she responds cheerfully.
Why seven, though? Well, she was the doctor, he guessed.
He starts the countdown “Seven, six, fi – oh flyin’ fuck!”
Shit, that hurt like a bitch, OW! “Mother-fucker,” he hisses, unable to stop himself from cursing. Oh wow, but it already felt so much better. “Holy shit, woman.” And he had to admit, that also wasn’t the way he imagined saying that phrase to her the first time she had him panting in relief.
“Now, tell me how many times I tap each toe, as I tap them, please. Denise, Glenn, thank you for your help.”
“Rest up, dude,” Glenn tells him.
“I’ll bring you by some painkillers and clean socks in a few minutes, okay?” Denise says, trailing behind Glenn out the door.
He looks back at Y/N, so diligently doing whatever the hell she was doing, tapping his foot and ankle and calf. “Making sure the sensation is still there,” she explains. “And this one should be familiar,” she announces before placing her hand below his knee and quickly bopping her other hand on it like a hammer.
“The reflex test, cowboy,” and she proceeds to do it by his foot as well. “Daryl? I don’t think you know just how lucky you are that we were able to fix that so easily. Injuries like that could put someone out for months back in the old world. You don’t even appear to have any associated fractures or tearing, it’s, it’s just miraculous.”
Finally, she appears to have finished everything she wanted to. Her expression is soft as she pulls over the chair right next to his bed and takes his hand in hers. “What’s killing me is that I forgot to wave goodbye before you went on that run today,” she confesses quietly.
He hates it when she’s sad! “S’okay, Y/N. I mean, I forgot to wear my helmet.”
Her eyebrows raise. She wasn’t dumb. “Forgot, or?”
His face warms for probably the tenth time that afternoon and he sheepishly admits “Maybe I just didn’t want to put it on...”
“Daryl, I love you. Please wear it, if only for my sake?”
Sorry, she what? She...did she just say that to him? That was the first time she’d said that! That was the first time either of them had said that! Holy shit, woman!
He feels sweaty. He feels shaky. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. And holy shit again, because her cheeks just got dark, too! He didn’t know what else to do, so he does the only thing that is in his mind.
He lifts her hand, still tightly holding his, and kisses her palm.
She bites her lip.
Oh no, did he do something wrong? Why were her eyes getting all wet? Stupid Daryl, stupid inexperienced redneck, clueless idiot bastard hick trying to be all romantic with this smart, beautiful doc –
Happily, his little inner monologue of insulting himself gets cut short as she laughs. Laughs!
“You have no idea how often I’ve been thinking about you kissing me.” Was she actually flustered? Had he done that good? “Somehow, that was better than all the different ways I imagined you first doing it. And believe me,” she adds, “I’ve been considering it all four months we’ve been together, and I watched ‘A Walk to Remember’ the other night,” she chuckles, wiping her eyes with her free hand.
And what? They’d been together for four months already? Shit that went by fast. “W-wait, c’mere, I gotta, I gotta kiss you proper, then.”
“You ‘gotta kiss me proper?’”
“Yeah, on the mouth,” he nodded, trying to sit up and waving her over with his free hand.
What was that expression on her face now? Good God, Daryl’s heart was gonna jump out of his throat at this rate. And oh good God, did he really just try to wave her over so he could give her a kiss? Their first kiss?
“Daryl?” she lets him know gently. “I know we’ve been going slow, so a kiss is a big step. A proper kiss, that is. I don’t want to make you feel trapped by kissing you when you’re already so vulnerable.”
Holy shit, he loved her, too, didn’t he? Why didn’t he think those words until now?
Y/N chews on her thumbnail for a moment then adds “And it’s not ethical in the slightest for a doctor to behave romantically with a bedridden patient,” throwing him a wink and a smile that made him grateful the blanket was back over his hips.
“So what you’re gettin’ at is: once I ain’t your patient no more, I can kiss you.”
A shrug.
“What about a medical exemption or somethin’?” he then attempts.
It was worth a shot, I mean hey, he was just glad he’d found the balls to ask.
She blushes again. “Daryl. Once we’ve got you up and walking out of here without significant pain. Is that term acceptable?”
How the hell did he love her so much and not realize it until now? Hot damn.
“Woman. Then you best believe I’m gonna be dancin’ out of here.”
Now, Daryl didn’t think anything about what he just said, he just sort of said it. She, on the other hand, seemed to forget how to breathe. When he notices this, he also forgets how to breathe.
And he sure as hell can’t go about remembering how to when she starts to lean in towards him. Her hand presses to his cheek. Her thumb grazes his bottom lip. And she leans even closer, mouth slightly parted...
And then comes knocking sounds at the (still open) door.
“Hey, um...is now a bad time?” Denise whispers awkwardly.
They turn and look at her. She’s got the painkillers in her hand and something else. “Here’s the meds, some clean socks, and I also grabbed you some, um, some nicotine gum and a magazine, Daryl. I’ll just...leave it. Right here,” she stutters, placing the bottle, the pair of socks, and the gum on the counter. “This is really bad timing, but, um...Rosita just busted her hand pretty good, and I need an actual medical doctor with field combat experience’s opinion on something.”
Y/N is already up at the counter. She’d just rummaged through the drawer and behind some stuff before she found whatever it was she was looking for. A notepad?
What’s that notepad for? She quickly scribbles something, rips it off and hands it over to Daryl, and in a flash has him take three of the pills with a long drink of water before handing him a piece of the gum and the magazine.
With a quick squeeze of her hand she tells him “I’ll be back, alright?”
And then he’s left alone. At least his pulse is settling back to normal, he guesses.
He’d almost finally kissed her!
But what was that paper she gave him, what was it, some kind of prescription or whatever? Why in the hell was she writing one out if he was gonna be stuck there anyways? He held it up and read it...
Oh.
It was a prescription.
For “(One) medical exemption.”
#twd#twd fanfic#twd fanfiction#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#walking dead fanfiction#fluff fic#like comically fluff i do apologize#reader request#Daryl Dixon x reader#Daryl Dixon x you#daryl dixon fanfiction#Daryl Dixon#Daryl twd#reader insert#reader is a doctor#Denise twd#Glenn Rhee#Glenn twd#fluff#Daryl fluff#Daryl's POV#anon#anon ask#anonymous#Daryl x Y/N#Daryl Dixon x Y/N#consent#consent is important#it's one big consent fic lolol
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The Babysitting Game
They say it takes a village to raise a child.
Well, Grian doesn't have a child but he does have an egg and a village. That’s basically the same thing, right?
Grian acquires an egg. His friends help him.
No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly fluff! Hermits: Grian, Mumbo, Pearl, and Scar. My first publish fanfic since 2016 and my first hermitcraft fanfic :D ao3 link and some inspirations to be linked in a reblog
Words: 2862
•·················•·················•
"What if I touched it really quick?" Scar asked.
"No, don’t-don’t touch the egg," Grian said seriously. "Look, I even made a sign! It specifically says ‘Do not touch.’" He gestured to the sign in question, but Scar ignored him.
"Can I rub it?" he said. The man leaned over it, studying the object carefully. Grian hadn’t known where to place the egg when he got it, and it was just sitting on an anvil for the time being. He didn’t even have a starter house yet, but clearly he was going to need something soon if he was going to protect the egg from some of the more . . . mischievous residents of their Boatem village.
“No, don’t touch the egg! Scar-” Grian walked closer, hands outstretched, just in time to see Scar reach out with his hand and pat the egg.
Vworp!
The egg disappeared into thin air.
Dragon eggs had a tendency to do that. It was a survival tactic--Grian didn't really know how it worked, but just as endermen could teleport away from danger, so could the egg if it were touched. Now whether or not Scar was dangerous remained up for debate…
Scar giggled. "Oh, where did you go?" he sang, hunting around the area.
Well, he COULD be pretty scary sometimes.
"Scarrrr," Grian whined, helping him look. "I told you not to touch it!"
"It's over here!" Scar shouted, finding the egg at the bottom of a small slope nearby. "Just one more time…." He reached out again.
"No!" Grian said, slapping his hand away. "Look, you've got to pick it up the right way." He demonstrated, carefully lifting the egg and placing it in a pouch slung over his back. He had hurriedly stitched it together not too long ago, worried that transporting the egg normally might break it. “If you do it roughly, you’ll scare it and it’ll teleport away again.”
"I see!" said Scar.
"Now, please, don't touch the egg.”
"Oh," Scar said. He straightened. "You're really serious about this."
Grian glared. "I am."
"I'm sorry, I just thought it was funny!"
Grian sighed. "It's okay, Scar. It's just--this thing is a baby, it needs to be handled gently! You can't just go around scaring it! What if it falls into a hole or something?" he hissed.
"Oh my god," Scar laughed, "you're its mother now!"
"No, no, I'm not!"
"You are!" Scar cried. He suddenly stopped. "Oh no, didn't you kill its mother?"
"Well it doesn't know that!" Grian snapped. "Truthfully I didn't realize there would be an egg! And I couldn't just leave it, you know! Here, look at this." Grian gently withdrew the egg from its pack, and Scar moved closer. He held it up to the sun. "Look at that."
The sun shined dark red through the deep purple shell of the egg, making it glow within. In the middle, the silhouette of a curled up creature was illuminated. Blood vessels radiated outward, and at the bottom there was a blank space that Grian assumed was air. The egg’s shell was too thick for any detail to be made out, but the processes happening within were clear. Grian was enchanted with it.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
"Wow," Scar breathed. "There's actually a dragon in there! What're you gonna do with it after it hatches?"
"Well, I haven't exactly thought that far--I just want to worry about keeping it safe first. I mean, what do you even do with this thing?" Grian put the egg back in its satchel, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I suppose you keep it warm and safe but, like, I don't know what else-"
"I could help!" Scar said.
"You were just playing with it!"
"Hey," Scar said defensively, "that was before I knew more about it!"
Grian rolled his eyes.
“What are you guys doing over here?” said Mumbo, wandering over. Grian just knew he’d been up to something, and sure enough, there was a new tree next to his little collection of chests. Grian wasn’t very bothered by it, because he already had a plan to get Mumbo back for it.
“Grian is just showing me his new baby!” Scar teased. “He’s a mom now.”
“I am NOT its mother,” replied Grian tiredly, but he smiled at the sight of the other man.
“A baby?” Mumbo asked, choosing to ignore the rest of Scar’s statement.
“A dragon egg,” Grian answered. “I found it in the End.” He paused for a moment, feeling almost bad. “After I killed the dragon.”
“Grian! You’ve orphaned it!” Mumbo sounded scandalized.
“Why do you all keep bringing that up!?” he defended, glancing between Mumbo and Scar, who both gave him disapproving, albeit playful, looks. “I know you’re Mr. Peace, Love and Plants this time, but we’ve always killed the dragon in every new world!”
“Well, I guess that’s true, but it is a little sad isn’t it? You’re taking care of it but only because you killed its mum.”
“Yeah,” was all Grian said. The dragon always needed to be taken care of in each new world they visited, and while it was always a bit of a shame, he’d never really contemplated it that much. After all, he normally wasn’t the one who fought it--that last time in Evo aside. He didn’t really know what he had gotten into but he felt deeply like he needed to protect this egg. It was like a tug in his chest, drawing him into the egg and telling him not to let go.
“Show him the egg!” Scar said.
“You just want to see it again,” Grian replied, but pulled the egg out of the satchel again anyway for Mumbo to see. The surface of the egg wasn’t smooth, like a chicken’s egg, but bumpy. The purple spots almost seemed to glow, and occasionally little violet particles drifted off of it. Grian felt like he could stare at it in awe all day, and apparently his friends felt the same.
“How’re you going to keep it warm?” asked Mumbo after a moment of admiring it. “That satchel isn’t going to be enough, and to be frank, I don’t see you spending any time sitting on it, even if the mental image is pretty funny.”
Grian rolled his eyes at the comment, but thought about it. How would he incubate it? He may have had wings, but he didn’t know anything about eggs, other than that it was a safe bet to assume it needed to be kept warm. “I'm not sure, actually.”
“Hey, let me design something for you!” Mumbo said excitedly. “I could probably use some redstone and make an incubator of some sort for you.”
Grian smiled. “I’d really appreciate that.”
Asking Mumbo to create a contraption for him--what could go wrong?
•·················•·················•
“I’m not wearing this thing, you know.” Grian said, holding the contraption while Mumbo wheezed with laughter in the background. The design that Mumbo had come up with was essentially a backpack with heating elements strung through it, except for one thing . . .
“You-you wear it in the front,” Mumbo choked out, wiping a tear from his eyes.
“Yes, I see that,” Grian replied, unamused.
“Like a swaddle!”
“Yes, I see that.”
Mumbo laughed harder. Grian had to begrudgingly admit that it was well designed, however. It would fit the egg perfectly, keep it warm, and most important it was mobile to ensure that he could take the egg with him. It was thoughtful, especially since Mumbo knew Grian was quite protective of it.
“I’m not wearing this thing,” Grian repeated. “I’m not going to let you all laugh at me while I walk around the server with an egg swaddled to me!”
“I thought you’d say that,” Mumbo chuckled. “Here, you can switch the straps around and turn it into a backpack.” He unclipped the straps and moved them into the new configuration.
“Thank you, Mumbo,” he said gratefully. “This will certainly do the trick.”
“Glad to hear it mate,” Mumbo replied. “Now, while you’re here, may I ask why there is an incredibly tall tree on top of my camper?”
“Sorry, got to go!” blurted Grian, snatching the backpack from Mumbo’s arms and flying off in a burst of feathers.
“That’s unfair, I don’t even have an elytra yet to go chase him down with,” muttered the man as he watched Grian disappear.
•·················•·················•
Grian sat in the grass in front of his starter home and rubbed his eyes wearily. He was exhausted. Is this how all parents feel? he wondered. Was he just uniquely unqualified to be one? After all, this was only an egg! It hadn’t even hatched yet and he was already tired of keeping up with it.
Carrying it in the backpack was heavy, and Grian tired out quickly. It was hot on his back, and Grian found himself having to take breaks to avoid overheating. It was also cumbersome, and he found it difficult to build with as it shifted his weight. He almost fell off the roof once while building it! Of course, having wings meant that Grian could catch himself easily, but it had still given him quite the scare. Dragon eggs were pretty sturdy, and would teleport themselves out of danger if possible, but he was still so paranoid about breaking it. And now there was the Boatem Hole to worry about--what if it teleported itself into the void? These things kept Grian awake at night.
But if he left it...well, just like Grian had a tendency to lose items in his chest monsters, he also had a tendency to forget where he placed things. He had been forced to go back and rescue the egg from some place he’d left it more than once, which he wasn’t exactly proud of. What sort of parent forgot their child?
. . . He was definitely not admitting to being its parent.
Oh God, what did I get myself into?
“Hey Grian, what’re you up to?” came a voice, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up and saw Pearl standing over him. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and her hands were in her hoodie pockets. She took a seat on the ground next to him, and followed his gaze overlooking the Boatem village. “What’s on your mind?”
“This--this egg,” said Grian. It sat next to him in its backpack, still radiating heat. “I don’t know what to do with it. I’m just so tired of carrying it around!”
“I have to admit,” Pearl said, “I didn’t expect you to immediately adopt a baby dragon the very next time I saw you.”
“Yeah, well, it was an accident.” Grian groaned. “I don’t know what to do with it now, let alone when it hatches!”
Pearl thought for a moment. “You know, the rest of us are all here for you. The other hermits would be happy to help out, I’m sure.”
The other hermits . . . well of course they would. If it was one thing they were all good at, it was supporting each other. Scar had already taken a particular interest in the egg, although Grian was still a little suspicious of him scaring it again. Mumbo had specially designed an incubator for it. Pearl was visiting him to check up on him and offer help.
All Grian had to do was convince himself to let it go. To let them help.
“I know that but . . .”
“But what? Have you had any reason to believe they wouldn’t?” Pearl asked.
“Well, no.” He thought for a while. He thought of how his friends would lend materials when needed, or how they’d help replace someone’s armor and items if they were lost. He thought about the days where they all teamed up and chose one hermit to help out, and he thought about all the things they did for the good of the entire community without even being asked.
His desire to protect the egg was strong, and putting it into the hands of another person almost felt like simultaneously a betrayal of the egg itself and the biggest leap of faith he could take. But the hermits were good at leaps of faith, because someone was always there to catch you.
“You think it’d be okay?”
“I know it’ll be okay,” Pearl replied. “I haven’t been here very long but from what I’ve seen, I know they’d all help. They wouldn’t hurt it. They might be a little mischievous sometimes,” she said, glancing at Scar’s house, “but they know how important it is and would be happy to help. They helped you before, didn’t they?”
Pearl was right, of course. Nobody on the server had any desire to hurt the egg. He trusted that. If there was anyone that he could trust, it was them.
But how would he get them all to essentially sign up for babysitting?
An idea struck him, and Grian scrambled to his feet. “Pearl, you’re brilliant. Thank you!”
She blinked, a little startled. “Always happy to help.”
•·················•·················•
Grian stood back, admiring his work. A near perfect duplicate of the egg that was currently sitting in the backpack slung around his shoulder, but at a much larger scale. It was built out of obsidian blocks and crying obsidian for the spots, and if Grian was pretty proud of how it looked.
If Grian knew anything, it was that his friends loved minigames. And Grian was not above gently exploiting that fact to get a little help--just like barge game from the last world, where he managed to get his friends to help mine out the stone from next to his mansion. Just slap the title of “game” on something and you could get a hermit to sign up for anything.
“Now . . . I just have to write the signs on the inside.”
The game Grian had come up with was officially called Tegg--he needed to stay on brand with his tag games in every world--but he’d mentally been calling it “The Babysitting Game” for a while now. Because that’s what it really was--each hermit who signed up would also sign up to watch the egg and keep it safe. He set to work outlining the rules.
RULE ONE: Protect the egg and keep it safe.
RULE TWO: Keep the egg incubated or it’ll die.
RULE THREE: Keep a close eye on the egg.
RULE FOUR: Call Grian if it starts to hatch.
Satisfied, he wrote out the rest of the instructions. Because it was a game, he wanted to make it fun for the hermits too, so he’d decided to make it like a scavenger hunt. People were allowed to take the egg, provided they adhered to the rules, and were encouraged to hide it and keep it safe. Otherwise, someone else who wanted to have it could get it. The safer the egg was, the less likely for someone else to find it. The winner was whoever had the egg the longest when it finally hatched. Grian didn’t know how long that would take, but he didn’t want to miss it either, hence rule four.
Yep, totally outsourcing his babysitting onto his friends.
Grian squinted at his wall of signs, before placing one final sign at the bottom: Grian will track the game and has final say on points and rules!
“That should do it,” he mumbled. He still wanted to keep an eye on the egg, to make sure that he knew who had it and how many people’s hands it had gone through. After all, he was the one ultimately responsible for it.
Grian pulled the egg out of the backpack and carefully placed it on the ground. He’d somehow made a habit of just speaking to it every now and then--he had no idea if the little dragon could hear anything in there, but he liked to think that it could. “Hey there,” he whispered, and stroked the top of the egg. “Some new people are going to start taking you pretty soon, but it’s okay. They’re going to give me some help and make sure you’re safe.”
He paused, taking in the little room he’d made and the wall of signs he’d written with meticulous instructions for the egg’s care. It may have been the first thing he’d built for this egg, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be his last. A baby dragon was a commitment and for the first time Grian really let himself think about what that meant, beyond just an egg that he had to carry around. Would he house it? Train it? Let it stay by his side? Would he love it?
I think I already do, he thought.
He thought of the hermits--their mischievousness, their pranks, their hard work, their friendship, and their goodness at heart. They were his family, now. What was one more addition?
“It’s okay,” he whispered to the egg. “I trust them all with my life, but more importantly, I trust them with yours.”
#hermitcraft#hermitblr#grian#mumbo jumbo#goodtimeswithscar#pearlescentmoon#hermitcraft fanfic#quara fanfic
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3rd Life Week 7: The Week of Death
SolidarityGaming: Can you tell us how this bunker is safe?
Grian: It’s not. It’s the most dangerous bunker around.
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Grian: You don’t just climb into a coffin with another man and not be bros for life, you know what I mean?
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Tango: What are you doing, music boy?
Etho: Enjoy the audio warfare!
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ZombieCleo: Also, Impulse is no longer our girlfriend.
RenDog: Why?
ZombieCleo: He’s cheating on us with Ren.
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Grian: My traps have been such a failure every time that I’ve just given up and laid the entire desert as an apocalypse.
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GoodTimesWithScar: Is it still okay if I row my boat around here for fun?
Grian: No! Scar! Please stop! You’re stressing me out, I’m so sweaty, please stop.
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GoodTimesWithScar: We are vastly under armed compared to others.
Grian: Yeah. Apart from the fact that the desert is now a doomsday device.
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Grian: Do you think— I have a question, and I want you to be honest with me.
GoodTimesWithScar: Yes.
Grian: Do you think Mumbo would be proud?
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GoodTimesWithScar: Guys, I’m getting in the Enderman boat. Come and get us guys, this is the Ender Tank! The Ender Tank is here.
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TangoTek: Hi Cleo
ZombieCleo: Hi! Do you wanna come in?
TangoTek: Uh, yeah, listen, before I—
ZombieCleo: You’re gonna want to come in for this.
TangoTek: I don’t like the sounds of this already. Can’t we talk here on the bridge? That’d be good.
ZombieCleo: You don’t want anyone else to overhear what I have to say to you
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Bdubs: Hey Cleo? I love that you’re doing this thing with Tango, but the entire blood-crown army is right behind our base. You might want to make a quick alliance.
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Tango: Bdubs, what’s going on?
Bdubs: We’re allied with someone all the way across the country, that I hate!
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Bdubs: HARK THE HERALD ANGELS SING! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, YOU BLOOD-CROWN KING? Oh my goodness that was so good.
ZombieCleo: Look at you!
Tango: You’re a natural.
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Impulse: Where does Tango stand in all of this?
Tango: I stand right— hold on, hold on, wait for it— I stand right here. With Team Crastle.
Bdubs: That’s what I’m talking about!
Impulse: In his own circle.
Tango: That’s right. The circle. Hold on, hold on— there is a circle of trust.
Bdubs: Yes.
Impulse: How much do you guys really trust Tango?
Tango: They already know! They already know, man. But it’s good to know that you were gonna out me for it.
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Bdubs: Hold on. Cleo, you’re like a rogue animal right now.
ZombieCleo: I’m going feral
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Impulse: Hold on, where is it, where’s the disk?
ZombieCleo: You can’t vibe your way out of this, Impulse.
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Tango: Etho just shot me in the face with fire!
Bdubs: It was really sick.
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Impulse: It’s still smart to keep it secret though, because right now they trust me and I can use that to our— to our advantage.
Tango: Ah-huh. Ah-huh. If only I had been down this road before and seen how it turns out, weird.
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Bdubs: I’m told I’m supposed to love you.
Grian: I love you?
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Tango: Where’s your Lackey?
Grian: I came looking for him, and I found a conspiracy.
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Bdubs: Cleo, it’s called faith. You’ve got to just pick something and dig your teeth into it.
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Impulse: We need a code word that’s gonna be inconspicuous.
Bdubs: Hoochie-mama.
Tango: Banana!
ZombieCleo: Oh my goodness.
Impulse: Those are all pretty conspicuous.
__
Tango: I wanna hear “renthedog has exploded”. That’d just make my day right now.
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Etho: I’m not sure how people are gonna be today: if they’re gonna be in a talking mood or if they’re gonna be in a shooting mood. This is the big question.
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Etho: What are the odds of me getting some instant damage arrows off of you?
Bdubs: *shooting him* I’ll give you instant damage!
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Etho: He’s really coming through, that guy. He might become the new king.
RenDog: There’s only space for one king, Etho. You’ll have to pry the crown from my rotting dead corpse. If ye want to be king.
Etho: Do you have a replacement, just in case something horrible happens? Kings have a history of dying from unexpected causes.
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RenDog: How did we survive that explosion?
Impulse: It’s the gear, dudes. It’s the gear.
Etho: It’s the shields!
Impulse: We are geared up.
RenDog: That was ridiculous. I was playing Powerpoint, there was so much lag with those explosions.
__
InTheLittleWood: Lava is red and now you’re dead, c’mere.
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Skizzleman: I’ve got two murders in my belt, but it didn’t quench my thirst. It gave me a taste, man.
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Grian: I don’t know if the server can handle this much TNT, but we’re gonna find out.
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Bdubs: I have foam coming from my lips.
ZombieCleo: Bdubs, Bdubs, Bdubs, I’m going to talk you down. You tried to talk me down, this is my turn. Bdubs. We need alliances of convenience.
Bdubs: Okay. I’m listening.
ZombieCleo: Deep breaths. In with anger, out with love.
Bdubs: Alright. *with hatred* What may I help you with, sir. Visitor.
__
Grian: This counter-attack is not over. We have no home any more, this is all or nothing.
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GoodTimesWithScar: Do you have a spare room? With a bed?
Smajor: I do actually. I have a new space just opened, because my husband’s just died.
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Grian: Scott, you’re a hero, you’re a king, we need to leave. We need to leave right now.
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Grian: Is that it, Skizz is out?
Impulse: Skizz is dead, that was it?
Smajor: That was one of the reds. I’ve avenged my husband!
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Impulse: I think they know which side I’m on now…
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Scar: Grian, you stand by the lever and when I--
Grian: Maybe we need to swap roles, Scar...
Scar: --run up to the banner, you pull the lever and everything goes down!
Grian: Scar! I can’t. I can’t let you-- I can’t let you go like that.
__
Grian: They said that you joined them.
Bdubs: Impossible. I never did, never once.
Scott: They said it in chat.
Bdubs: They were just trying to turn Cleo on me.
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Impulse: Listen, listen. I’m the inside man and they told me they trust in me fully. If I can get them away from their base, right? Long enough for you guys to set something devious...Then boom. Get a bunch at once instead of this ‘oh I shot you in the foot, haha’ NO. BOOM.
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Ren: No longer shall the red banners be defiled on this server! You will go down, there is no escape for you!
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Impulse: If we take out LittleWood, the whole red army is gonna be red, then we can just pick them off.
Tango: Or we could just take down the king, and the cockroaches scatter.
Bdubs: And they all fall apart.
__
Tango: Impulse is coming by.
Scar: I don’t trust him. Kill him.
__
Bdubs: Tango...We’re alone.
Tango: I know, dude.
Bdubs: That realization just hit really hard...
Tango: It’s not looking good.
Bdubs: We’re alone. Oh gosh.
__
SolidarityGaming: No more burning! Unless you have a TNT cannon and can blow things up.
__
Smajor: I’ve got one for Cleo, Bdubs, You, Me, Scar and Grian— didn’t include Joel, cause he’s a psychopath and I don’t trust him with anything. Same with Tango. I think he’s doing an Impulse, where he’s kind of on both sides, and I don’t trust that. These are the six people I trust.
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Grian: The best thing we can do now is to get those two factions to fight here, and then everyone’s gone.
Smajor: You’re an evil genius. That blank expression says so much.
Grian: Listen, it’s every important that you understand that this is a one-time deal. I have invested in every single gunpowder into this project, and I am going to take down everyone— with me included if I have to.
SolidarityGaming: I’m in. I’m in.
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Skizzleman: My king, today I have to kill somebody. I’m sorry. My king— somebody dies today. Today they die.
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Implulse: I will put my green life in front of your red. Oh no, they’re shooting!
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RenDog: Scar? Banner or Death.
GoodTimesWithScar: Come and get it. Come and get it!
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GoodTimesWithScar: Somebody’s gonna die today to this enderman.
Smajor: Let’s find out who it is. Oh, it’s me!
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GoodTimesWithScar: Goodbye, everybody! Goodbye back there!
InTheLittleWood: I’m still in your audible range, so that means you’re still in trouble, bud. I’m not going anywhere, I’m on ya.
__
Skizzleman: They want us to go over there.
RenDog: That does feel a little bit like a trap.
Skizzleman: They’re baiting us, they’re baiting us. Where’s Impulse?
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RenDog: Dudes, Impulse is shooting at me!
InTheLittleWood: Wait, Impulse?
RenDog: Impulse is shooting at me! Impulse is hitting me!
InTheLittleWood: He’s the armourer though!
RenDog: What the heck?
InTheLittleWood: *firing arrows* Impulse, take some of this.
RenDog: This is some huge, huge betrayals right now, dudes.
InTheLittleWood: Look, he’s right there front and centre.
Etho: Impulse is in there.
RenDog: You filthy, filthy traitor.
__
RenDog: Did we just loose two allies in one swoop?
InTheLittleWood: One to betrayal, one to fail.
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RenDog: I’m in shock. I don’t know what to tell you guys. What the heck happened?
InTheLittleWood: I guess Red Winter came.
Etho: This is war.
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Etho: I don’t really like going over to the sand place, though.
Skizzleman: I don’t either, dude.
RenDog: Yeah, we’ve had some bad experiences out there in the sand.
Etho: It’s not the going over there that I mind, it’s the reasoning with them part that I don’t like.
Skizzleman: They don’t reason, ever. It’s not a thing.
Etho: Have you tried talking to Scar? It doesn’t work.
__
Skizzleman: Do we want it out of his cold hands or what?
InTheLittleWood: I just want the banner, that’s all I want, genuinely. I don’t want to kill Scar.
Skizzleman: Scar! Give us the banner and you walk free!
InTheLittleWood: Scar, you’ve never swindled me out of anything, I’ve got a level of respect for you.
__
Bdubs: Hi!
Skizzleman: Hi!
Bdubs: Fighting, anybody?
ZombieCleo: *runs past and crits Ren with a sword*
__
Skizzleman: I’m having remorse. I’m now the one person who’s eliminated two people. Jimmy and Cleo.
InTheLittleWood: Yeah you’ve done last lives, yeah, holy moly. You’ve set out for blood, don’t change your mind now.
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Skizzleman: I love you guys, and I hate them. I’m goin’
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InTheLittleWood: I’ve got people wanting to pay cash-in-hand for my head, so I’m gonna be on high alert.
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Skizzleman: I think I’m going to name my bow “thirsty”.
__
Skizzleman: I have a pet tarantula, can I bring it?
InTheLittleWood: As long as it stays in that tank, but anything hairy that can move on it’s own, nnnmhm.
Skizzleman: What tank?
__
RenDog: I wasn’t really keeping much track until I was doing editing, I was noticing Impulse all over the show. Were you spotting that?
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RenDog: Members of the Crastle? I am here with a message from the Red Knights. I am sorry to inform you that every single one of you is in the book.
Bdubs: Why me?
ZombieCleo: Go away.
__
Impulse: I like gathering intel I can bring to others. To use in our advantage.
RenDog: Alright.
InTheLittleWood: What you’re telling me is you’re a mole.
Skizzleman: He’s a good man. He’s a good man.
__
Impulse: We’re gonna lose Martyn if we leave him alone, he’s gonna get killed.
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RenDog: Wait a second, is that Impulse in there?
InTheLittleWood: Surely not.
Etho: Yeah, I think I saw him.
RenDog: Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
InTheLittleWood: Stop. Stop. Was he in there trying to mess with them, or?
RenDog: I don’t know! I just saw his little face in the window!
InTheLIttleWood: It doesn’t look like they’re franticly fighting. No look, they’re calm as anything.
__
SolidarityGaming: So, I didn’t put this here. Why is there a cake?
Smajor: I don’t know, eat it.
SolidarityGaming: No. Wait. No. Wait.
Smajor: What, it’s a cake?
SolidarityGaming: Can that be a trap?
Smajor: I dunno. You’re asking me, I have no idea.
SolidarityGaming: Are you hungry? Could you eat some?
Smajor: No, sorry, sadly not.
SolidarityGaming: Could you please eat the cake and tell me if something happens?
Smajor: You eat the cake.
SolidarityGaming: No, you eat the cake.
Smajor: I can’t eat the cake! look, I’m clicking on it and nothing happens.
SolidarityGaming: So go run round! I’m on red life, you’re on green, you can take these risks!
Smajor: You eat it, I’ll stand on it. It’s a cake, it can’t be anything.
SolidarityGaming: I don’t know any more! I don’t know! Blowing myself up and two other teammates, I don’t know any more.
*later*
Smajor: I put the cake there.
SolidarityGaming: *betrayed* Oh noooooo.
Smajor: I knew this would be the reaction though.
SolidarityGaming: You are something else.
__
Grian: I’m not sure these alliances have held up so much, Scar.
Smajor: Uh, ours has. Don’t blame us for other people’s lack of trust.
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ZombieCleo: It’s Bdubs who’s the issue because of the murder, and he’s kinda my ride or die.
Smajor: That’s true.
ZombieCleo: Here’s the thing. I want you guys, because you’re trustworthy.
Smajor: I want you as well. That’s the thing. Our biggest asset is that we’re loyal, and that’s the issue now, because we’re loyal to the sand people.
ZombieCleo: But they’re not loyal to you. They’re not loyal to anyone.
Smajor: They are for now. They are for now.
ZombieCleo: That’s the problem. You know that if it comes to it, I’m gonna put my life on the line for you.
Smajor: My whole goal is that eventually, all the red people who are in charge of the red factions will die, and I can retire nicely to my little walled in hobbit kingdom and have a nice time.
ZombieCleo: They’re not gonna let you retire. They’re not gonna let me retire.
__
Smajor: Nothing says payment like arson. Maybe I do understand why Joel did this. It’s very freeing.
__
Grian: Scott, there’s a good chance that we go down.
Smajor: There is, but once we both lose our husbands to the war we can be free. Just the widow’s association. Once bdubs goes down, Scar and Jimmy— you me and Cleo, we can be free.
__
Smajor: I can’t believe I hit myself with a potion of poison. And my husband died! I haven’t had time to emotionally process that!
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Grian: Do you remember when this server had rules?
Smajor: When? Tell me when.
Grian: First episode, I think.
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GoodTimesWithScar: Do you think we can trust Bdubs?
Grian: No. I don’t think we can trust anyone.
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Bdubs: We have four stories of madness we can rain down on them!
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Smajor: Grian, you have an arrow right out of the top of your head.
Grian: At this point I just wear it like a crown.
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Smajor: We need to get one of their reds gone, because next week BigB comes back with a green.
Grian: BigB wins the server by not showing up.
Smajor: We need to take out one of the reds.
Grian: I vote Skizz.
Smajor: I want Skizz as well.
__
Bdubs: Scott, I want to talk to you about something.
Smajor: Cause I killed Impulse?
Bdubs: There’s just a little thing. Everything’s cool, everything’s cool. He’s been with me the whole time. I can vouch for him. He’s just been playing a little game.
Smajor: Mmmhmm.
Bdubs: Everything’s cool!
Smajor: You sure? Cause he was canoodling with Martyn, who is very Red.
Bdubs: I needed him to! I needed him to! I asked him to. We set a trap in there thanks to him. He’s ready to make a stand with us, will you accept?
Smajor: Yes. But if I smell the slight bit of double-cross he’s dead.
Bdubs: He’s gonna kinda smell like that, he’s smelled like that the whole time. But I’ll tell him.
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Grian: Are you kidding me? My trap didn’t go off again?
Smajor: Grian, I’m signing you up for trap school.
__
Smajor: I then became a widow, and also lost my other widow friend. So. I’m just out for blood at this point. Luckily Skizz died— I avenged my husband. I do need to get revenge on Etho somehow, because he killed me. Not sure how I figure that one out, because he’s good. But I will. I’ll do it.
__
Tango: Look at this guy, mister all sides.
Impulse: I’m currently on no sides.
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ZombieCleo: Let’s be very clear about this. If anything happens and you don’t help, we’re coming for you.
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Grian: The rules on the server is now null and void, this is all-out war.
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Smajor: Why are you a psychopath!?
__
ZombieCleo: Also we might be slightly allied with the Sand People.
Bdubs: The sand people Scar and Grian?
ZombieCleo: Mmmhmmm.
Bdubs: That’s the worst thing you ever did.
__
Bdubs: I’m just voicing my opinion. We’re equals here. But if you died by one of their traps, would I ever align with them? No. Enemies for life. So you must have a devious plan for why you’ve aligned with them.
ZombieCleo: Survival.
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Bdubs: I really like Etho. I wish we wouldn’t have had to fight each other.
ZombieCleo: Etho made his own choices.
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TangoTek: I don’t know why after the help and assistance I gave them last episode, they just put me in the book. I don’t know what the book means, but it doesn’t sound like a place I want to be.
Bdubs: You made it in the book all the sudden! Just cause you were here!
TangoTek: So listen. I’m in.
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TangoTek: Etho just shot me in the face with fire! I’m done with Etho. I’m done with him and his wool castle, soon to be flaming.
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Bdubs: *in a whisper* Both of my allies are dead. And I’m alone. And they’re all here.
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Bdubs: You guys both died pathetically and I was there left alone. Courageously.
ZombieCleo: You are the hero in all of this, Bdubs, we know.
__
Impulse: Are you in here? Why are you in here?
Bdubs: Oh hi, Impulse!
ZombieCleo: We’re trying to break in.
Bdubs: This is awkward.
TangoTek: Just allies looking for a way in.
Bdubs: Wonderful. This is your welcoming party. Welcome to yellow!
TangoTek: Keep talking, we’re bringing an apple pie.
Impulse: Come on in, dig straight down. I just got murdered.
__
ZombieCleo: We bow to no one. That’s our motto. We bow to no one.
Bdubs: Yeah! And our castle’s better! It might have a few holes in it, but it’s better!
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ZombieCleo: Would you like some acupuncture, Martyn?
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ZombieCleo: Ren has gone insane.
Bdubs: Ren, I like Ren!
ZombieCleo: We don’t like Ren.
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SolidarityGaming: Can we trust Cleo?
Smajor: I’ll find out in a second.
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ZombieCleo: I trust Bdubs. If he kills me, I’ll go out as an honest person.
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GoodTimesWithScar: Help, help, I’m being chased by everyone.
ZombieCleo: Yeah, you are. Goodbye.
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GoodTimesWithScar: Cleo, you betrayed me!
ZombieCleo: Yeah? I’m red now, I can kill ya. What do you need.
__
ZombieCleo: It was worth it. It was worth it.
__
#3rd life SMP#3rdLifeSmp#3rdlife quotes#ZombieCleo#GoodTimesWithScar#Rendog#tangotek#grian#ethoslab#bdubs#TrafficBlr#Traffic Series
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HBomb watching Grian’s world tour.
It’s like 1h 30mins long with the commentary. Here’s some highlights lol. Keep in mind most of this is paraphrased :P
*seeing Grian has 61 eps* Hermitcraft is nuts. They are so invested and talented.”
“Did they makes little railing things to send messages to each other? That’s the cutest thing ever. It’s like when you’re living on treehouses with your next door neighbour.” OK HBOMB WAIT TILL YOU SEE THE SEASON WHEN REN AND FALSE LITERALLY LIVE IN THE SAME AREA.
Grian, about the mansion: It’s lacking soul
H: WHERE??
H FREAKING OUT ABT STRESS’S BUTTERFLIES
About Grian’s chest monsters: “I’m starting to realize me and Grian have a lot in common.”
“You can give villagers dragon heads?”
He was stunned into silence by Scar’s Big Dig. For like fifteen seconds. Just gaping.
About the Big Dig: that’s more work by Scar than we put into Dream SMP
AND YEAH HE HASN’T EVEN SEEN THE SHOPPING DISTRICT???
About Mumbo’s base: “This is so beautiful”
H said people really under appreciate Minecraft grass and leaves. YEAH HE’S ON TEAM HEP LMAO.
He smiled so much at Grian and Mumbo’s shenanigans lol.
He screamed “ISKALL!” the moment the Omega Tree came into view. And he proudly told chat “I KNOW THAT GUY!”
H legit made the POG face when he saw Stress’ base. “I thought they all lived super far from each other.” “I know Stress too!! She’s on Vault Hunters!”
“I wanna see more of the dragonflies”
“Renpog renpog renpog? That’s my MCC9 Teammate”
About Ren: “he’s nuts”
About Ren’s Darth Vader base: “this would take me a full year to build”
AND THEN REN SAID “<3 <3 <3” in chat
“We love Ren in this chat. Ren’s out of his mind.”
Now he said Ren put in more effort than everyone on DSMP except Sam.
Grian: I struggle with terraforming
H: I struggle with everything compared to the Hermitcrafters.”
“It’s so crazy!” H said while massaging his head.
“Mumbo Baggins.”
“I forgot about Keralis! I haven’t watched him in so long.”
H also stared at Keralis’ build for ten seconds just making the Pog face.
“I can’t tell how big that is. 30 blocks or 300.”
“I feel like there’s always 40 people on the server.” Good try, H. Lol.
Grian fell down Keralis’ hotel’s elevator chute but flew himself to safety. “Grian’s at 3 hearts. Thank God’s he’s so good with an elytra.”
H about graffiti: “Oh I love this”
H saw the Keralis Bee in front of X’s base and instantly made the same face.
Grian admitted he doesn’t watch his friends.
H: as a content creator, it’s very awkward to watch your friends. 100%.
He said Etho was the first MCYT he fanboyed over aaaa
About Etho’s base: ohh it’s so cool
“I love that the beacon is going through the end crystal!”
About Wel’s base:
Grian: I don’t think he’s on very much
H: that’s more than I built in my lifetime
H confusedly squinting and peering at Zedaph’s base lmaoo
About Tango’s base: “that looks straight out of a Doctor Suess novel. I LOVE IT. I LOVE THESE TWO (Tango and Impulse’s) BUILDINGS.”
About Impulse’s base: the quartz and water combined look really cool
Grian, about Impulse’s base: is this mega?
H: y e s
Grian: no
H: that thing is freaking huge. I’ll say that’s mega. That’s huge. It’s mega.
Grian: it’s not mega
H: it goes down the water IT’S MEGA
H ARGUING WITH GRIAN ABOUT MEGA
H stared at Tango’s base for fifteen secs. “I love it. I love it. Chat, have I ever told you I love it.”
“Did he make an iron farm with ravagers?!”
Grian: I don’t know what I’m doing with farms
H: I don’t know what I’m doing 24/7
LMAO BOTH H AND GRIAN BEING CONFUSED BY TANGO’S PEASHOOTER CREEPER FARM
HE RECOGNIZED FALSE’S BASE AYYYY
“She’s nuts, chat”
“When I raid False, I ask my chat to ask her to show her base because it’s so freaking cool”
Grian: is False’s base mega
Grian: this is juuuuust mega
H, screaming: JUST? I’m gonna throw hands with Grian
H: LET’S TALK. CHAT.
Then he proceeded to talk about False’s water at the bottom of her base and how she had to place water sources and blocks (chat told him she used ice, but hey it’s the thought that counts)
“That’s insane, chat!! It’s so cool!”
“I’m ready to throw hands with Grian.”
He wanted to win the mega argument with Grian lol. “Hbomb VS Grian.”
“I actually don’t know what Grian looks like irl. He might beat me up.”
H stared at Cleo’s armour stands. “OHH THAT’S SICK!”
“WHY IS SHE ABLE TO MAKE BETTER MINECRAFT CREATURES THAN MOJANG. EXPLAIN.”
“I’m still mad at you on the megabase thing. Other than that, we’re good.”
He watched False make the Nether hub on Twitch.
Grian: X made this Nether build-
H: X gonna give it to ya
“Ren and False are just built differently.”
H’s face legit froze when he saw Cub’s base. And he bellowed “WHY?!”
H: size matters
“Link’s ready to throw hands with Grian” (Link is H’s dog)
“He managed to make our Targay look absolutely irrelevant.”
“Do you think they’ll let me on to play with them? Just for like, twenty minutes? 🥺👉👈”
“THAT IS DOPE!!”
“Walls made out of ancient debris. Jesus Christ. WHY?!”
Pomo, donation: impulse once raised his base by one block bcz he thought it looked better
H: oh no
“Imagine there was an ancient debris wall on the Dream SMP, chat. It would be there for an hour. Maybe two. Maybe.”
“Doc was another Minecracker”
He was so relieved when he saw Joe’s stuff lol. Since people can be “normal”.
About Mt. Goatmore: OHH THAT’S DOPE!
He went to a Bdubs meet up when he was in college. And had a photo and autograph of Bdubs and Gen.
“Yo that cliff is dope”
About Bdubs’ castle: I won’t be surprised if he used diamond blocks.
“I love how Bdubs use the nether wood trapdoors.”
He loved the anvil droppers thing and said he’s gonna steal the idea. He also mentioned Beef and Mindcrack.
H is such a HC stan now lol. AND HE WANTS TO PLAY THE HC MINIGAMES. PLEASE LET THE MAN ON. Also he’s gonna vibe so well with Grian. Not only do they have similar views in MCC but also in a lot of other things (don’t watch their friends, chest monsters, etc).
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Magic misfits! Did I update the masterpost specifically because of this fic? yes absolutely. A busy day for Scar, featuring TFC and some good ol’ Scar appreciation :]
The start of a new season was always interesting.
While TFC didn’t enjoy having to start from scratch every year or so; having gotten used to the comforts of late season riches, he did love the sheer amount of interaction that came with a new season. TFC was content to hear gossip about the others’ shenanigans while he stuck to what he was best at: mining. Some of the others called it cheating to use his earthbending down in the tunnels, but he called it cheating to be able to shapeshift, or use magic crystals, or any of the other crazy things the other hermits could do, so it evened out.
When he wasn’t down in his mine, TFC watched as all the other hermits scrambled to make the most impressive buildings and contraptions in as little time as possible. Many of his servermates placed more importance on finishing their creations than actually gathering necessities such as tools and armour.
As if to prove this observation, the Boatem village appeared on the other side of the nether portal, populated with structures that were much too large considering it had only been three weeks since they arrived in this world. There was also a… tree? At least that’s what it looked like; a thin oak tree stretching up past the clouds and out of view. Looks like Mumbo and Grian were up to no good already.
“TFC! Up here!” Scar’s voice came from somewhere above TFC’s head, and he looked up to see the wizard (although he no longer wore his robe and hat) standing on a balcony extending from a truly massive wagon, one hand on the railing and the other extended above his head, waving enthusiastically at TFC.
He climbed the ladder up the side of the wagon, entering a sparse storage room. Knowing Scar, he either hadn’t bothered to move in yet or lost all of his things in a cave somewhere. Despite his powerful crystal magic, Scar still managed to die more than any other hermit, so the second option was more likely.
“Well hello there! Welcome to my humble abode, please take a seat.” Scar led TFC to a balcony, where he gestured towards a table and two folding chairs. Scar sat down, crossing his legs and folding his arms in his lap. “So, what brings you to our little village today?”
TFC raised an eyebrow at the question, confusion evident in his voice. “Because you invited me? We were supposed to have tea today.”
Scar jolted in his seat, then proceeded to scramble out of said seat. “I’ll be right back! I have to go… feed Jellie!” This was quite obviously a lie seeing as Jellie hadn’t returned from her between seasons interdimensional travels yet. TFC’s laughter chased Scar into the wagon, where he frantically prepared the tea that he was totally planning on making because he definitely remembered his plans for the day.
After about five minutes of mildly concerning crashing sounds, Scar returned with two steaming mugs of tea (decorated with cat faces, of course) and a plate of chocolate chip cookies - Stress’ recipe if TFC wasn’t mistaken. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, appreciating the tea and cookies.
“So, how are you holding up this season, Scar?” TFC took a sip of green tea, looking out at the horizon.
“Oh you know, the usual. I don’t have my village anymore, but the magical misfits still come seeking my help.” He brought a cookie to his mouth and bit off half of it. “Not that I mind helping people!” He swallowed his mouthful before continuing. “XB was here last week convinced that he left his coat in season seven, but turns out it just ended up in one of Joe’s boxes.” He chuckled to himself, wiping crumbs off of his jacket as TFC stared at the distant ocean, lost in thought.
TFC broke the silence that had fallen. “You’re a good man, y’know that?” The wizard in question looked at TFC in surprise. He was used to ‘thank you’s, but the personal compliment caught him off guard. “You’ve created a safe space for folks from all sorts of places, and you’ve saved quite a few of them from bad people.”
Scar looked down, smiling at his cup of tea. He spoke quietly, a departure from his usual boisterousness. “Thanks TFC, that means a lot.”
-
Scar was in the middle of catching TFC up on what he missed from day one when something red and very fast crashed into the balcony. The something in question turned out to be Grian, shimmering wings protruding from his back. Something must have been wrong, since winged hermits tended to refrain from flying early in the season, in the name of fairness.
“Scar we need your- Oh heeey, I didn’t know you had company over!” He leaned on the railing, his urgency replaced with a forced cheerfulness as he (quite obviously) pretended nothing was wrong. What was probably supposed to be an easygoing smile stretched too wide, and his voice was more high pitched than usual. “How’s it goin’?”
Scar, completely oblivious, responded excitedly. “Oh, I was just telling TFC here about our adventure in the geode with Cleo!”
Grian’s uncomfortable smile grew wider, and his eyebrows furrowed. “That sounds great, do you think you’ll be done anytime soon?”
“Oh well, I’m not too sure. It depends on when we finish all of these cookies.”
“Oh that’s just wonderful,” Grian’s wings started to twitch behind him, “did you make those yourself?”
Scar took a breath, preparing for a tangent when TFC cut in, showing the poor fairy some mercy. “Alright Grian, out with it. What’s wrong?” Scar stared at Grian, somehow surprised that this wasn’t a completely ordinary visit.
Grian let out a long sigh. “Thank you so much TFC.” He turned his gaze to Scar. “We need a little help with curse breaking.”
Scar set down his mug and gave Grian his full attention, preparing himself for whatever strange curse one of the fairies had set on some poor hermit. “Really? How are you two cursing people already? It hasn’t even been a month!”
Grian’s tangent was accompanied by wild hand gestures that made it difficult to follow what he was saying. “Well, Pearl came up behind Mumbo and spooked him, he shouted something about not sneaking up on him, and now whenever he turns his back on her she teleports directly in front of him.” Grian looked nervously over his shoulder in the direction of Mumbo’s van. TFC followed his gaze, and burst into laughter again.
Mumbo was standing a few feet away from his campfire, spinning in circles and doubling over in laughter as Pearl kept popping up in front of him.
Scar pushed himself up from his chair, TFC followed suit. The pair headed to the door while Grian flew back down, Scar giving TFC a sort of briefing. “Alright, let’s go figure out what exactly Mumbo did before Pearl starts feeling particularly vengeful.”
-
It took two hours and a lot of trial and error (with TFC giving supremely unhelpful tips), but eventually Pearl could stand behind Mumbo again. At some point Scar accidentally applied the effect to both Grian and Mumbo, and he had to beg the two not to create a space time anomaly. But it was all fixed now, and TFC was sure Pearl’s revenge would be swift and cruel.
Scar made his way back up to the balcony, and the two continued their conversation. It was a good thing Scar had enchanted his mugs, something he had done back in season seven after his drinks kept getting abandoned and going cold.
After a few hours of peace (other than both Mumbo and Grian’s bases abruptly flipping upside down while the boys were inside), the pair was interrupted again by a voice behind them.
“Howdy, Scar. Oh, and howdy to you as well, TFC!”
Neither of them had heard Joe coming, so Scar jumped about a foot in the air while TFC nearly spat out his tea. It turned out that Cleo was there as well, looking quite a bit angrier than Joe, although that wasn’t too uncommon.
“Oh my goodness, Joe you scared the life out of me!” Scar held a hand to his chest and caught his breath as Cleo got right to business.
“Sorry about that Scar,” her voice was flat, and it was safe to assume that she was not, in fact, sorry about that. “But we have an emergency. It’s completely Joe’s fault, he-”
Joe smoothly stepped in front of his companion as he cut her off, “I wouldn’t say it’s entirely my fault, old magic is a fickle thing-”
Cleo shoved Joe aside, stepping in front once again. “He revived my leg!” She raised a foot off the ground and gestured at it with both hands.
Sure enough, both TFC and Scar looked down to see that Cleo’s right leg was significantly more flesh-coloured than the left, restored to what it presumably once was.
Scar’s lingering panic was instantly replaced by an amused grin as he gestured to the leg in question. “Cleo, why don’t you just get your leg reinfected? It’s not like zombies are hard to come by.”
The pair stood still, just blinking. (Completely in sync, it was eerie)
Cleo rounded on Joe and punched at his shoulder just as he raised a hand to deflect her fist. “How did you not think of that Joe?! I thought you knew everything there was to know about-” She gestured wildly about for a moment. “Everything?!”
“Shouldn’t you be some sort of zombie expert by now? How is that my responsibility?” The argument continued as the pair went back into the wagon and down the ladder. As they walked off, presumably to go find a cave, something occurred to TFC. He cupped his hands around his mouth to yell down at them.
“Cleo!” She turned around. “Don’t use Joe as bait!”
She snapped her finger like a defeated cartoon villain, as Joe turned to face her and presumably gave her grief for this evil plot.
-
It was only about five minutes after Cleo and Joe left (preceded by twenty minutes of arguing) that the next problem arrived, as it often did, in the form of Zedaph, Impulse, and Tango arriving on the shore of the village. TFC found this odd, seeing as how everyone was now connected by nether portals, but he assumed there would be an explanation shortly, even if it didn’t make a lick of sense.
Impulse shouted up from the ground, the three of them clustered near the front of the wagon. “TFC, we need your help!” Well that was a surprise, not many people asked for his assistance other than Scar. “We made an oopsie and Cleo said we could find you here!”
As every hermit knew, ‘oopsie’ was a versatile word with these three. It could mean anything between making a minor mistake in a build to banishing Impulse for the fifth time. “What happened this time?” TFC stood up and made his way down the ladder, since shouting down at them wasn’t very efficient and they didn’t seem inclined to come up.
Impulse started twisting his hands together while Zedaph and Tango tried their best to look innocent behind him. It didn’t work. “Weeell, Tango wanted a terraforming job done around his base, so we made a little deal for it.”
Oh boy. Not much good came out of magical deals, yet the other hermits continued to make them with each other. Demonic deals were especially tricky since the demon didn’t have precise control over their end of the deal, not that it stopped these three. “Tango offered me his first beacon in exchange for the job, and it turns out that a beacon is worth a lot more than I thought- it’s probably easier if we show you.”
“Quick FYI guys: firsts are very valuable in deals! It applies to you as well Impulse, not just the fae!” Scar called helpfully from his still seated position on the balcony.
-
They all ended up going over to Tango’s house/ shop, which was literally buried in a mound of dirt and stone, along with about three quarters of Bdubs’ giant moon house. That explains why they didn’t use the nether.
The earth was offended after being touched by demonic magic, but after a long negotiation TFC managed to convince it that Impulse meant no harm, and it was happy to return to its prior state. Tango was mildly annoyed that he would have to do the terraforming himself and give Impulse a beacon, but it was better than the wrath he would have faced from Bdubs.
By the time TFC and Scar returned to the Boatem village, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. While TFC admired the beauty of it, Scar just looked disappointed.
“I’m sorry.”
TFC raised an eyebrow at the wizard, a frown making its way onto his face. “What do you mean you’re sorry? Did you do something to the tea?”
Despite TFC’s attempted joke, Scar still stared at his perfectly polished shoes. “This was supposed to be a nice relaxing day to catch up, and people were just showing up left and right. I mean, we hardly got to spend any time together! Maybe I shouldn’t invite people over with all this wizard stuff going on.”
“But we did spend time together.” TFC’s rough hand landed on Scar’s shoulder, the latter looking up at the former, startled by the contact.
“Well yeah we had tea for a while but-”
TFC had to cut off Scar’s rambling or he would never get to his point. “Yes we had tea, but I’m talking about the rest of the day.” Scar seemed genuinely confused at this. “I helped you un-curse Pearl,” he did air quotes on the word ‘helped,’ “We watched Joe and Cleo argue together, and you came with us to fix Tango’s house.” Of course he didn’t do much other than laugh at Tango’s misfortune, but it was the thought that counted. “Just ‘cause it didn’t go to plan doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time.” After all, not much went according to plan on the hermitcraft server.
Now Scar was smiling. “So I didn’t ruin the day with magical misfits?”
“Not at all.” TFC reached for his mug and emptied it one last time, then stretched before heading out. “But now I gotta get going. I don’t like my chances against the mobs with my crappy iron gear.”
Scar waved once more as TFC disappeared into the nether portal. “Goodnight TFC! And thanks again, for everything!”
TFC smiled as he made his way through the nether tunnels back home. Scar did a lot more for the hermits than he realized, allowing them to be free with their magic in a way they couldn’t back home, TFC included. He’d created a home for all sorts of ‘magic misfits’ as Scar put it, and he performed an invaluable service, whether he realized it or not.
He’s a good kid. Just needs some reminding every once in a while.
#hermitcraft#hermitcraft 8#magic misfits au#tinfoilchef#goodtimeswithscar#grian#mumbo jumbo#pearlescentmoon#joe hills#zombiecleo#tangotek#impulsesv#zedaph#im not too confident on the Emotional bits but#practice makes perfect i suppose#theres a few things i implied here so feel free to ask and clear things up
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Flufftober: Oct 5
Watching the Sunrise
I think maybe I tried to squeeze a little too much into this one? But my goal is writing/posting without overthinking too much, so here it is! It's vaguely set post-ttm, so a little dusting of angst is inevitable, haha
NOTES: rated t for some mild suggestive content if you squint, ~800 words
ao3 link
Rayla dragged her fingers along Callum’s scalp lazily, combing his hair out of his eyes and watching the lightening sky brighten them to a sharper green, revelling in the afterglow of having spent the night so...happy.
For the first time since she’d left, spending time with him had been just...illusion-free: no pretending, no hidden hurting, no tears. Just fooling around under the full moon, laughing and kissing and loving each other.
She wasn’t exactly tired and didn’t think he was either, but there was always this...lull when day broke. The full moon would be plenty to keep her—and him now too, she figured—going even better than normal all day, but the difference that came with the moonlight dimming and the sun rising was definitely noticeable.
“So,” she started, feeling the restlessness that always stuck with her on full moons fading, “how’d it feel?”
She knew very well the answer, but she also knew that Callum would be so eager to share given the slightest invitation, so…her asking would be a treat for both of them, really.
Not that he’d needed an invitation to talk about the moon lately.
Callum figuring out a second arcanum—her arcanum—had already meant a whole lot of listening as he waxed poetic about illusions and perception and love and truth and…a whole lot of stuff she’d never really been inclined to actually think about, even if Callum said that she was the reason he’d finally understood all of it all. She tried, for his sake, to do more than nod along while he rambled, but she definitely still didn’t really have patience for all of the moon-magic mumbo-jumbo that’d he’d only become more enamored with over the past couple of weeks.
Callum, though…she had infinite patience for Callum.
How could she not, given…everything?
He looked up at her thoughtfully, squinting in a way that was way more dorky and dramatic than entirely necessary, and she knew she was in for it. For all his philosophizing about the “meaning of the moon” compared to the “power of sky” in the days leading up to his first full moon since, he’d said surprisingly little all night about the actual feeling of being out here in the full moon light all night.
Of course…she had kept him pretty distracted.
A drawn-out hum came with the little smirk on Callum’s lips as he answered her.
“You know…the whole ‘ting’ thing?” Callum deserved the flick square on his nose, especially for mimicking the exaggerated salute she’d done trying to cheer him up all those months ago. He pouted and rubbed at the spot. “Hey!”
She glared fondly down at his head still resting in her lap. “I’m familiar.”
“Well…it’s pretty accurate, I think, even if I couldn’t get it to work right.” Callum shrugged and then sighed.
Even with the moon high and bright in the sky, he hadn’t been able to get even a flicker of a Moonshadow form going. It was definitely possible, they’d decided—if a human mage could sprout wings and fly, then why couldn’t he turn invisible?—but…no luck.
“Eh, don’t beat yourself up,” Rayla said, reassuring him with a squeeze at his hands, slack and resting on his belly. “It’s not even fun anyway. Makes me all dizzy and nauseous. Besides…it’s like the wings. Not easy. I know we’re approaching your two-week threshold for ‘rare and fantastical magical feats’ here, but…you’ll figure it out. You always do.“
Something about that pep talk...hadn’t landed.
“I had some pretty good motivation last time,” Callum muttered, not meeting her eyes any more.
Ah.
It wasn’t that they didn’t talk about the leap—it wasn’t a hard and fast rule, at least, like the oasis was—but they’d been so free of all of the heavy stuff all night, like they hadn’t been since he’d brought her back here to Katolis. It’d always been there, of course, but she’d liked the illusion that it wasn’t and...wanted to stay in it.
“Don’t.” She laid her hand on his face, thumbing his cheek gently. “Please?”
Callum winced when he looked back up, but then seemed to swallow down her plea, and then—like a switch had flipped—it was clear that he understood.
“Didn’t mean to get all…feelings-y.” He reached up and stroked her cheek, soft and sweet, with just a hint of unnecessary apology in his eyes.
“Feelings aren’t the problem—”
Callum scoffed gently, more amused than bothered.
“Since when?”
She paused to glare again. He wasn’t wrong.
“Bad feelings are the problem,” she explained, as if he didn’t know that. She pulled her knees—and Callum—up, leaning to meet his lips halfway. “I like good feelings.”
“Me—me too.” The words brushed against her lips,
“So...just good feelings?” Rayla took in the morning light that’d almost fully taken over the sky, circling back to wanting the illusions that hadn’t felt like illusions all night. “For a while longer?”
Callum whispered, agreeing while his lips and his body and his hands found her again. “For a while longer.”
#rayllum#rayllum fanfic#tdp#the dragon prince#flufftober2021#post ttm#light angst to go with the fluff#i have Implied some things but this is very much t rated#also seriously this prompt prob should've ended up 2x the length but this is the#yolo#writing experience
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Hello! i dont know if you got the first request i tried to send because our internet had a problem, but may I request a mumbo jumbo x gn phantom hybrid reader? the reader likes to watch him do redstone while perched on his shoulder like a bird and reminds him that he needs sleep. but since the reader is a phantom and cant go outside during daytime, mumbo likes to stay up as like as he can to stay with them until he passes out
This was fun to work on, though I made it take a bit of a twist with a humorous ending- please forgive me. ALSO NOT PROOFREAD I AM TRIED..
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Late night working
Description: You really want to make your and Mumbos relationship work, but sometimes you worry your lifestyles are too different. Luckily he has a solution.
Warnings: it's... complicated
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You heard the screams of your brethren call out to you, the cold night sky reminding you that it was safe to be outside. Most of the evening, after the sun had set, had been spent by you perched quietly on your lovers shoulder, as he worked on a new redstone project. But now the evening was turning to night, meaning that other Phantoms would also start to come out of hiding, ready to strike for food as the predators they were. The truth is, being a Phantom hybrid was a curse, one that you had been unknowingly handed. An undescriminative curse, that just befell one for being born. There were many things that you couldn’t do, simply because of your being, your condition of life. Some hermits you’d basically only spoken to once, because they prefered to sleep early and wake up early. Some hermits you saw so rarely, it was like you never saw them anyways. And you couldn’t ask them to accommodate you, that would be absurd. But there were those, like Mumbo, who tried their best to keep you included.
Mumbo had a bad habit of accidentally staying up. It was a side effect of the kind of work he found most charitable, redstone. It’s not like building, or architectural design. You can’t see it in your head, the way you can with those things, and because any number of things can go wrong if you’re not sure what you’re doing, it’s best to keep it moving when you’re in the middle of it, so you don’t have to start again when you leave it. This meant that if he was in the middle of something, and day was turning to night, he simply had to keep working for a bit till he was finished with the current part of his redstone build. That’s originally what allowed you to become so close in the first place, anyways. He had seen how much lonelier of an existence you carried than he did, and he took pity on you. He found excuses to stay out even longer, and suddenly he was almost as nocturnal as you.
But you both knew this wasn’t good for him. He was still human, in the end. A different sleep cycle was more optimal for him. So you began reminding him, when your brethren came out, that he too needed sleep. The other Phantoms were starting to be drawn to him, and it was just part of your physiology that you could feel how exhausted he was. Normally, this helped you search for prey, but now it worried you to no end. “Mumbo, they’re telling you to go to sleep, love.” You informed the man, getting off his shoulder and standing in front of him. You grabbed his hands, bringing them up to hold them to your chest and craning your neck down to kiss his knuckles. It was never easy to make him leave you, flatter was by far the best method you had found, though.
“But I’m not finished, not yet.” He said, freeing his hand from your hold to place a soft hand on your cheek, stroking it gently. Then he let go, moving around you like he was going to continue what he was doing. But you didn’t let him pass, latching yourself onto his back. He let out a sigh, as he was stopped in his tracks. “We both know you’ve really been finished with this section for half an hour. It’s time to go to bed, Mumbo.” You said sternly, your voice slightly muffled by your face being pressed into his back. There was really no reason for him to lie, when you both knew the truth, so instead he turned around, embracing you from the front. “We have such limited time together. It’s not fair.” He said, kissing your shoulder.
You couldn’t deny that he was right. But the world was cruel, and you both had to deal with it. And he could choose to fight it and be pessimistic, or he could look at it positively like you did. “I know, Mumbo. We can’t change that, but what we can do is cherish the little time we do have together.” You tried to explain it to him, but by the look in his eyes it still wasn’t enough. He didn’t want to just be happy spending 4 hours together a day. He wanted to spend all his time with you, so he could never be satisfied with your point of view. His eyes flew open further, like he had an idea. “Maybe you could come with me, we could share my bed.” He suggested, and you couldn’t help but blush at the thought of sharing a bed with him. Yes, you and Mumbo had been together for a long time now, but you’d just never thought about it. Honestly, it just seemed like an impossibility to share a bed with the man you loved. “I didn’t wake up too long ago.” You sadly informed him, and his head fell slightly, his face having the expression of a kicked puppy. There was always a need to explain to him your differences, that he never seemed to truly understand. Actually, it was more like he didn’t want to think about how different your lives were cursed to be. “I can’t just lay in bed with you all night, the work you do in the day I usually do while you’re in bed. I don’t have just endless hours of nothing, you know.” You tried, and he seemed to understand, to some extent.
He grabbed your hand, leading you to follow him and you did without question. You followed him into his home. You couldn’t help but be hesitant, as he led you to his bed and started getting ready to sleep. But then he started to explain. “Come sleep with me for the next few nights. I’ll explain it to you when I can, but please just take my word for it and try.” It wasn’t even really an explanation, just a pleading prayer for you to trust him. And so you did. You would trust Mumbo till the end of your days, so sleeping for a few nights certainly wasn’t a challenge. That night you somehow managed to sleep, curled up along with Mumbo. It was some of the best sleep you’d ever had. But then when you woke up to Mumbo, and he left, leaving you alone in a room with a covered up window, you really had no idea what to spend the rest of the day on.
You cleaned a bit, you read a few books, but soon enough you found yourself just sitting, waiting for Mumbo to return. If his plan was to let you live like this for a few days, make you like it, then he was failing terribly. Then when he returned, he counted it down for you. Two more days. This made it clear there was some end goal in mind for this lunacy, which made you much more willing to wait out boring days spent inside. Then, on the final day, as you woke up that morning with Mumbo by your side. You couldn’t help but feel slightly sad that this bliss would end. Sure, you couldn’t live like this, huddled up all day just wasn’t your style, but you would miss getting to spend every night impossibly close to Mumbo, tangled up in his arms. He seemed impossibly giddy that morning, as you ate breakfast. He was just pacing, spending time with you inside the house.
And when Scar burst through the door to Mumbos makeshift house, holding a shulker box, you knew what he had been waiting for was this very moment. “You’re both right here? Amazing. Have I got something for you guys!” You loved the way Scar said that word, it was so iconic to him. But what he said made butterflies flutter around in your stomach, your mind anxious for what he and Mumbo had been planning the past few days. Yet, you urged him to show you what he had. He put down the Shulker box, and rummaged around in it for a second, before pulling out a long black cape with a hood on it. You raised a brow.
“I appreciate the effort, really, but fabric is too thin. The sun's rays shine through it. I would be crisp if I went outside.” But Scar smiled, smugly, like he was about to unveil and explain his greatest masterpiece. Mumbo took your hand in his, comforting you and leaving you less anxious, and ready to hear what Scar had to say. “Well, as you can see-” He brought the cape over to you, letting you and Mumbo feel it. Sure, it felt like fabric, but it was heavy and it almost seemed like it had something between two layers of fabric. But you couldn’t really understand it. Scar continued. “This isn’t just normal fabric. It’s been tested.” He informed you, and once again you raised a questioning brow at him. Sure, Scar would never deliberately let anything happen to you, but how could it possibly have been tested?
Mumbo noticed your still skeptical look, and pleaded with you. “Come on! Just give it a go! I promise it will work.” He tried, and you looked up at him. If anything, you would just respawn in your bed after immense pain that would traumatize you. It really wasn’t that bad to give it a try. So you took it from Scars hands, pulling it on and opening the door. Both men watched with bated breath, seemingly nervous despite having insisted that it would work.
Then, you stuck your elbow into the sunlight and waited for the pain. It never came. You opened the eyes you had shut in preparation for the burn and looked at your elbow. Sure enough, sunlight was painting lines all along your elbow, covered in the strange cape, but nothing went through. You looked over to Mumbo and Scar in shock. “How does this work?” You asked while throwing yourself at Mumbo to hug him out of joy, surprised and desperate to understand it. But then He looked at you worryingly, and then looked to Scar for help who looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Gotta go! Have fun!” He then said, and before either of you could stop him he was out the door.
“Mumbo, what is it made of?” You repeated, and he looked nervous, a small amount of sweat seemingly gathering at his temple. He tried to make you ignore it, by changing the subject. “Doesn’t matter! We’re going to be able to walk outside in the sunlight, love! Isn’t that wonderful?” It didn’t make you any less suspicious and skeptic, so he tried the only other strategy he knew: he started kissing you. And sure enough, it was distracting and the more he kissed you the more you forgot the question in the back of your mind. When you pulled apart, you smiled up at him, but his face was pale. It was like he couldn’t hold it in anymore, something eating away at him that he had to tell you.
“There’s skin inside it. It’s made of skin.”
#Mumbo Jumbo x reader#mumbo x reader#hermitcraft x y/n#hermitcraft x reader#hermitcraft x you#Mumbo Jumbo x you#Mumbo Jumbo x y/n
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Moths and Cubs
Part 7
Part 8 [CURRENT]
Part 9
DT: @petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @jump-in-the-cadillac
Theo belongs to @petrichormeraki !!!!! Give em some love!!!!!
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“Heeeeeey, Tommy. What’s up? It’s been a long time, thought you were dead. Um, you been doing good?”
Xisuma watched as Tommy crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. He watched with confusion as the fox, Fundy, began to shrink under the gaze of Tommy. Finally, Tommy spoke up.
“I was told that you were looking for me. What do you want?”
Fundy’s nervous smile morphed into a grim one. Running a hand across his face, he let out a shaky sigh.
“I know we have had our ups and downs, Tommy. I know we didn’t really leave on a good note, but please, I need your help.”
As Tommy sighed and looked over at Xisuma, who was watching in confusion. Fundy seemed to panic at this, taking it as a negative sign, and began to ramble.
“Please! I know that I’ve done things to annoy you over the years, especially when I was younger, but I need your help! And you don’t have to help me as a friend, or as an acquaintance, I don’t expect you too. But, please, I really need you. I’m not asking as a friend, Tommy, I’m asking as family. I’m asking as your nephew.”
Xisuma, much to Tommy’s amusement, seemed to be having a difficult time processing the fact that this boy at the portal was Tommy’s nephew. This was the Fundy they’ve heard of? Tommy, on the other hand, ran a hand through his hair, sighing. Fundy always knew what to say to get him thinking, especially when it came to playing the family card. Before Tommy could say anything, however, Fundy spoke up once more.
“And if being your nephew isn’t enough, not anymore, what about your great nephew?”
Tommy quickly turned his head to face his nephew, who smiled sheepishly. Carefully nudging someone behind him, Tommy felt his breathing stop as he saw a small, blond fox peek from behind Fundy. After receiving a nod from the older fox, the small cub stepped out from behind him. Seeming to hype himself up, he slowly walked up to Tommy, who kneeled down to reach his height. After giving his nephew a look, causing the older fox to flinch, he turned back towards to small child, who was playing with his own shirt.
“H-Hi”
“Hey, big man. My name’s Tommy.”
“T-Theo...”
“Hm, Theo? Awesome name for an awesome dude.”
He smiled as the child smiled up at him. Nodding, Tommy stood up, facing Xisuma. Already getting into a pleading position, Tommy asked the question the two of them knew he was going to ask.
“I’m sorry to ask this, but-”
“Already done, Tommy. You know you don’t have to ask. Now, let’s get them safely in”
--------
Mumbo had informed Tommy that the girls went back to Tommy’s place, Grian assisting them. This, obviously, caused Fundy to ask questions. As the three of the walked down to Tommy’s place, Tommy explained what had happened to him up to that point.
“I have a grandma? And another uncle? And a cousin? Who’s a moth? We’re royalty? And you can actually build? And you-”
“Okay, Fundy, calm down. Yes, you have a grandma. Kristin is great and understanding, so she won't push you to like her off the bat, though, that would be hard to do. Yes, you have another uncle. Grian is the missing triplet brother of Techno and Wilbur. Yes, I took in Clementine about a week ago. She’s a bit younger than Theo, very sweet, unpredictable, and a shapeshifter. Give her a small while and she’ll warm up to you. Yes, we’re royalty. Didn’t Wilbur tell you? Damn, didn’t know that. And finally, yes I can build, you prick! Fuck you!”
After telling Theo not to repeat those words that he said, Tommy approached his door. Preparing himself for the explanations he would have to give, he opened the door. He laughed as a squeal was heard, getting louder as tiny feet pattered across the floor. Kneeling down, Tommy nearly toppled over as Clementine rammed into his chest with as much power as her tiny body could hold.
“Sorry I’m late, Clem, I had to pick up some special additions.”
Confused noises came from the girl as she peered behind Tommy. Squeaking at the sight of unfamiliar faces, she ran and hid behind Kristin’s chair. Kristin and Grian, on the other hand, laughed in their seats as Tommy stood up. Grian was the first to speak up.
“So, who is this? Oh, and this little fellow as well, hello.”
Dusting his clothes off, Tommy widened the door. After seeing the hesitation coming from his nephew, he guided the two foxes into the house, closing the door behind them.
“You know how I told you that we had a nephew? From Wilbur”
“Yeah?”
“Turns out, we also have a great nephew! Grian, meet Fundy, your nephew! And this little man, right here, is Theo! Your great nephew!”
“Wha-”
“Which means, Kristin! Good ol’ Mumza! Meet your other grandchild, as well as your great grandson!”
“What?!”
Tommy guided Fundy to the table, where Kristin and Grian were sitting. As he sat him down, he sat beside him as they began the conversation.
“It’s very nice to meet you! Oh, and Theo looks like such a sweetheart!”
“It’s nice to meet you too, grandma. Sorry, um, Kristin-”
“You can call me grandma, Fundy!”
Fundy gave Tommy a look, obviously confused as to how this woman was married to Philza. Tommy, in turn, shrugged before speaking up.
“Okay, Fundy, I waited until we got back for your explanation as to why you need help.”
“Right, sorry. You see, I’ve been in hiding ever since Theo came into the world. For about two and a half years, a little after you disappeared, presumed dead, I’ve been shielding him from his father, scared of what would happen if he was discovered. About a week ago, I saw a flier for your amusement park, and I gained hope. I couldn’t wait months to seek out out, and I knew that you could turn me away, that possibility frightened me, but I needed to get Theo away from there. Please, please don’t send us back. Even if I have to leave Theo here, to be safe, I will! I just need him to be safe and sound, away from that server. And I’ll even give yo-”
“Fundy! Breathe! Take deep breaths, my dude. Here, take a carrot. Calm yourself. I’m not going to abandon you two, that’s not what family does. You can stay here with me, no catch included.”
Fundy physically relaxed, deflating in his seat. As he covered his face with his hands, he did his best not to start crying there on the spot. As Tommy rubbed circles on his nephew’s back, he allowed his nephew’s low ramblings to fill the silence. Reaching over the table, Kristin took Fundy’s hand in hers and began rubbing circles onto the back of his hand. Grian just set a hand on Fundy’s arm, giving him small pats.
“Thank you, uncle. Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me. I was so scared for Theo, scared that he’d be found out. After seeing what happened to you, as my uncle, it scared me. After seeing what you had go through, since your first day on the server, I just knew he couldn’t be exposed to that. I, just, thank you.”
“Quick question, who is Theo’s father? Since you left in such a hurry, I figured he must be dangerous.”
“Grian, maybe it’s too early to ask him that-”
“No, I should tell you guys who it is. Theo's father is, well, Dream.”
Fundy physically retracted, waiting for his uncle’s high pitched yell to question him. However, Tommy’s yell never came. Instead, a crash interrupted the adults, followed by giggling. Standing up without hesitation, Tommy walked over to the living area.
“Clem? Theo? What are you two up to?”
Fundy scrambled after his uncle, concerned for his son. He, along with the other adults, stopped in the doorway as they watched the scene before them. Theo was giggling and laughing as he scrambled around the room. Clem, on the other hand, had shapeshifter into a small, arctic fox. As she hopped between furniture, she chased Theo around, happy squeals coming from her small body. With a final jump, she pounced on Theo, who squeaked in joy as he fell onto the carpet. With a poof, Clem shifted into a similar fox form as Theo, matching him best she could with her abilities. Together, the two giggled and squealed as the rolled around the carpet. Before Fundy could utter a single word, Tommy turned to face him with a smile. Nodding over to the two kids, he spoke up.
“Think Theo would mind sharing a room with Clementine?”
--------
The single black wall of the room, recently painted with chalk paint, finally dried by the time evening rolled around. Tommy had crafted a bed for Theo, and pushed it against the wall opposite to Clem’s side of the room. As the kids drew with chalk giggling, Fundy helped Tommy decorate Theo’s side of the room with books and toys. Kristin and Grian had left, off to get things to help Fundy and Theo settle in, as well as get groceries for dinner. Once Tommy and Fundy had finished setting up Theo’s side, they scooped up the children and hauled them off to the bathroom, ready to give the filthy children an early bath.
“Clem! Please, sit still!”
Tommy and Fundy struggled to keep the children still whilst they bathed them. Clem and Theo, on the other hand, were focused on splashing each other with the water. By the time they finally washed the children clean, the surrounding area was covered in water. Fundy hauled off the kids as Tommy dried up the mess. Once he finished up, Tommy walked over to the children’s room. Confused at the sound of struggling, followed by giggling, Tommy opened the door. Fundy was trapped, sheets binding him as Theo and Clem ran literal circles around him. Sighing, Tommy walked over and scooped Clem off the group. As she squealed, he spun are around in the air. Setting her down, he kneeled down to her level as Theo ran to her side, a smile on his face.
“Are you pulling pranks on your cousin?”
Curls bounced as she nodded.
“Do you think that that’s funny?”
Curls bounced once more without any hesitation.
“Yeah, it’s pretty funny.”
“Tommy!”
“What? It is!”
Fundy groaned as Tommy helped him out, Theo and Clem giggling in the background. Stretching out his arms, Fundy gave it about two seconds before he dashed, snatching Theo into the air. As the young fox squealed in delight, Clem jumped up and down in joy. As the four quieted down, they heard the front door open, Kristin and Grian’s voices calling out to them. Without skipping a beat, Clem pulled open the door and ran to greet them with hugs. Theo, not wanting to be left behind, whined and squirmed until Fundy put him down. As soon as his feet touched the floor, he took off, the sound of slightly heavier tiny steps pattering after the other tiny steps.
--------
“Papa! Look!”
Fundy watched with a smile as Theo spun around, his brand new, custom crown sitting on top of his head. Clementine whined until Tommy brought her tiara to her. Once her’s was placed upon her head, she joined Theo in spinning around until they fell dizzy. Laughing at the sight, Fundy nearly forgot about his own custom crown, sitting in his hands. Turning to Kristin and Grian, he thanked them for the crowns, already bringing out the diamonds he had brought in case he had to bribe Tommy to let them stay. He was, however, stopped instantly.
“No, no diamonds. These are gifts, from your family.”
“You two deserve to match the rest of us! All that needs to happen now is for the two of you to get your custom suits made by Tommy for royal events.”
“I’m sorry, what now.”
“Don’t worry about it. Tommy! Come help me with the soup!”
“Coming, Mumza!”
Fundy watched as his uncles join his grandma, everyone smiling. Sitting on the couch, he watched as his son and his cousin play around. And as he watch his son finally get the freedom he deserved, as well as a friend his age to grow up with, he knew that things would be okay. Even if Dream himself came marching into the server, Fundy knew that he and Theo would be okay. And for the first time in a while, he allowed himself to breath.
He was okay
#memories in the stars au#memories in the stars#hermit!tommy au#hermit!Tommy fankid#hermit!fundy#fwt fankid theo#mumza#kristin minecraft
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💜💜💜HI FROM PG💜💜💜
💜💜💜HI FROM PG💜💜💜
Hello there everybody! I thought I would send a message or a post and just let you all know that I miss you and I miss being a very active part of Skippy‘s blog!!
I had my second vaccination the Astrazeneca on Tuesday and had my doctor assessment yesterday and my arm is getting better it’s still is not 100% so I am taking it low and slow and using the dictation software. I know so many of you have left messages such kind words of love and support and I really really really appreciate them! And I want to say a special message to💜🙏🏻💜 CHERUB, 💜🙏🏻💜you know that you are in my prayers every single day. Jesus is with you he will never leave you or for sake you no matter what happens. I will be back probably in another week I think with if my arm continues as it is progressing.
Now I have a few things I wanna say about what’s happening here first I wanna say the visit to Scotland was a rousing success and as usual our Catherine slayed Fashion wise and interpersonal skills wise! I saw someone write a comment that they didn’t like her in the brown and the khaki but I had commented a couple of weeks ago when she wore that beautiful camel coloured coat that I wish she would wear browns and taupes more often so I was just elated to see her wear those long wide leg pants that were hemmed exactly as they should be not dragging on the ground! I just think that this couple can do no wrong and they both very well for the future! Now I am not biased by my affection for the Cambridge is at all ha ha Ha! By the way I received my Hold Still book this week and I also received from Royal Mail Her Majesty’s at 95th birthday stamp first day cover and coin which was reasonably price I think £20? Anyhow the book is very substantial and because of my left arm being the way it is I have yet to be able to look at it because it’s quite heavy and it is a huge book, but I am looking forward to the day when I can hold it and I can enjoy looking at the pictures! Again I say Catherine kudos to you on your fabulous projects! Catherine I also wonder if you’re stealing my word wowza because when you met with Mila for tea, you said wowza as she showed her dress twirling. I’m wondering are you borrowing from PG?? Aka me?? 😂😂😂🤣🤣Catherine you are most welcome to share the word while that I think we are the only two people on the planet that still say it ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!
OK now onto our Harry. Heads together in the UK and many other mental health organizations around the world are doing fabulous work. CBT or cognitive behavioural therapy, cognitive restructuring, EDMR, Hipnosis, that’s spelt wrong but hey I’m dictating hypnosis is spelled HYPNO either we go anyhow those are all legitimate therapies done when they’re done by trained professionals! One thing that has always driven me crazy about Oprah and Dr. Phil who is her who is her surrogate, is they do mumbo-jumbo therapy on tv and have people share their just horrific interpersonal stories with an audience and a television audience! It just it just sickens me to make people so vulnerable for attention and ratings and money and advertising! When I saw Harry doing the tapping and whatever I just felt whether he was doing it for real or whether he’s towing the line as I believe it is just so wrong to show somebody at their most vulnerable!! It just sickens me.
However let’s let us ask ourselves why is this happening now? When ‘her’, l will continue to use the descriptor ‘her’ was doing all the talking a.k.a. lying because every time her lips move we know she’s lying and now she’s been silent. But for the last well since about the time that the Duke of Edinburgh passed away Harry allegedly has flown back to the to the United States where apparently he’s lived for two years one article said which surprises me but anyways what what’s truth and in articles. And he has been everywhere good morning America that all these Apple things with Oprah and celebrities and doing this and that and the other all for mental health!
You know sometimes it’s too much of a good thing. There’s a lot of excellent organizations in Canada there’s a CMH a Canadian mental health Association all over the world. But this constant stream of video and him in our face that’s not normal and the things he saying or lies and their provable lies that they’re not difficult at all. This is NOT NORMAL! IT IS A DELIBERATE OVERSATURATION FILLED WITH SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES IN THE VIDEOS, TRUST ME, SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES IN ADVERTISING IS REAL. TAKE A MAGNIFYING GLASS TO A FASHION MAGAZINE AND LOOK CLOSELY. YOU WILL BE AMAZED WHAT IS EMBEDDED IN THEM. JUST LIKE THE DISNEY VIDEOS THAT WERE SHOWN TO HAVE ADULT DRAWINGS.
In knowing Harry’s dedication to his Queen, his grandmother and his grandfather why on earth would he pick the first few days after the funeral to dig in like this and go so public? Why? We really must ask ourselves why? I will tell you why he is continuing to expose evil! There are all kinds of organizations that I’m not gonna name any “churches” some start with the letter S which many celebrities are members of Tom C is one. These organizations manipulate people and just like the NIXVM did in Canada. These backers are evil people and they’re willing to use people for anything in anyway at any purpose. The last picture I saw of Harry it was a video but I didn’t watch the video he looks so pale and so gaunt and so unwell that even though I believe he is doing the right thing and exposing all this and eventually hopefully eventually this will wrap up with him being free and everyone brought to justice let’s hope and pray, this is taking a terrible toll on him an absolute terrible toll. I have to again harken back to London scoop, everything has come to pass that she foretold way back several years ago when she came upon this information about this plot. I did a post one post last week where I propose the thought that the plot to integrate the British royal family began in the 1990s with princess Diana and I still believe that. I don’t know all the reasons or who the people would be but things things are just smelling very funny very very funny and I don’t mean funny as in laughter I mean funny as an off off off off!!!
So I say let us continue to pray for our Queen her family pray for the Cambridges, that they all stay safe and healthy the whole family to especially pray for Harry, whether do you think he’s doing his duty or you think he’s fallen under her trap and has become some whimpering child, pray for him all the more then because he needs it. If you really believe that he is he is doing this on his own free will because he’s mesmerized by her or he is woke and has become part of the woke world my goodness he needs more prayer than ever! To be released from these bondages!!
OK kids that’s my more than my two cents worth! As you all know it’s never one word thing with me I am very elaborative! I miss you all miss you and you all know who you are! Take care sending you all my love and prayers, PG!! I beg you all please don’t forget about me because I shall return I shall return!
To my dear Skippy, thank you for always being there. Thank you for relay messages. Most especially thank you for this safe space, your friendship and your prayers.
To my MM Anon/ Kensington Anon, thank you so much for your kind messages of love and support I have really appreciated it. I just feel like I’ve let everybody down by not being able to do the stories about the Cambridges. But I shall return soon hopefully in a week I’ll see how my arm is but it’s getting better hopefully in a week. I hope this finds you well, I hope you read this I don’t know if you ever checked my blog but if you do you will see this here.
💜🙂🙏🏻✝️💟PG💟✝️🙂🙏🏻💜
GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿
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May I interest you in some fem!hermit!Tommy fluff for you in this trying time?
This is set in an alternative version of @redorich 's hermit!Tommy AU. Diverging from the Dream SMP's raid on Hermitcraft. All you need to know is that family trees are convoluted, Tommy's name is Clementine. She's trans, we love her, she has wings and has adopted Grian as her weird almost twin brother.
After the whole "Dreamon" and "invasion" mess the Dream SMP folk didn't expect to hear much from the hermits besides the ones who attended MCC. They thought that the two servers would just continue to exist, independent of one another. Just drifting through the void mere inches apart but never really touching.
Oh how wrong they were.
The hermits were friendly but they had absolutely underestimated just how friendly.
Apparently, the moment Clementine so much as breathed a word about how much she missed her biological family, Scar -ever the kind and helpful mayor that he was- decided to throw a beach party!
Since Clemmy's extended family was pretty large and they didn't want anyone to feel left out, it was an open invitation to everyone on the Dream SMP as long as they behaved.
That point was driven home when a few people, like Antfrost and his unhealed, dog bitten asscheek, mentioned how upsetting the Hermits was definitely not a good idea.
(Deep down they knew that the reason they were really doing this was because the hermits were worried about them. The Dream SMP was just a bunch of traumatized children according to them. They weren't wrong in that assumption but no one wanted to admit that.)
So, when the day of the beach party finally dawned, they all put on their least threatening outfits and packed up their supplies, (where Tubbo got the surf board nobody wanted to question) and entered the portal just like they had done a few months prior.
A few things were different though, the sun was bright and beaming in the sky, soft puffy white clouds rolled by, only promising gentle shade instead of the dreary air of yesteryear.
The shopping district had been rebuilt from it's smoky ruins and they finally all had time to appreciate the lovingly built shops and roads. It looked so beautiful and vibrant, you could practically feel the fact that summer was in full swing.
The smell of nectar and sea salt drifted through the air, sweetening even the sourest of moods. This is what peace was to the hermits. This was their everyday. They were so lucky and they didn't even realize it.
Some people were taking notes of all the different building styles with bright eyes, hoping to replicate some of it when they got home, others were suddenly hit with a feeling of bitter inadequacy of it compared to their homes. Is this what a world without war could look like?
But, no matter the gloomy musings of the few, they were all here to let go for a day! To celebrate the good times and to kick back for seemingly the first time in forever.
Their welcome party this time simply consisted of one person.
It was a strange sight, seeing the Hermits' admin Xisuma without a mask on, wearing a god awful hawaiian shirt that Keralis had thrown at him with glee the moment he mentioned that he didn't have something to wear, and again, were those, gods forbid crocks?
"'Ello everyone! Wow this is quite the turn up. Scar wished he could be here to greet you all personally, but he's still too busy helping the others preparing for the barbecue, so you're stuck with me for the time being.
Now, if you'll kindly follow me, we set everything up pretty close to here, so we'll be there in a minute."
The walk over to the beach was short, but just as scenic as the rest of the server.
Warm, golden sand, gently lapping waves and lush plant life. The sound of the hermits' laughter and soft music filled the air as the smell of the previously mentioned barbecue proved a welcome distraction from whatever the hell was happening on the far right side of the beach (the ZIT trio built a karaoke machine. It was Zedaph's idea. It was also a horrible idea but they didn't seem to realize that yet.)
As they began to debate a plan of attack, no wait. ... fun? enjoyment? eh whatever.
A tall man jogged up to the group. Some people recognized him as Mumbo Jumbo, that one british guy with the mustache. Others, however, as that semi-scary redstone wizard who managed to create extremely powerful potion launchers during the invasion.
He was dressed just as down to earth as the others, holding a tall glass of lemonade in his hand and wearing a (quite goofy) sunhat he borrowed from Ren.
He was explaining something to X in hushed tones (something or other about a minor fire at the barbecue table?) When he looked past the gathering of guests and out towards the path that they had come from, and screeched.
"GRIAN PLEASE I'M HOLDING LEMONADE DON'T!" X reached over and grabbed the glass from his hands just in time for a cackling, feathered ball of something to crash into Mumbo, knocking him into the water with an audible "oof".
There was wild thrashing as the two tried to orient themselves, Grian somehow climbing onto Mumbo's back.
"CLEMMY! COME HELP ME DROWN MUMBO!" Grian waved towards a cluster of trees to their left, underneath which a small gathering of hermits was enjoying a bit of a reprieve from the sun.
"NOT YOU TOO!" came the mustachioed man's scream of distress.
Clementine, the whole terrifying six feet and three inches of a woman that she was, took off running to the water at full tilt towards the struggling brits.
Mumbo, having already formed a strategy in his head, did a perfect T-pose and feel backwards into the water, bringing down a screaming Grian with him. Clementine did a graceful swan dive into the water (how she executed that shall be left for viewer interpretation) and happily joined the fray, even the distressed calls of Stress behind her because "Gods damn it Clemmy! I spent an hour on your hair! And now it's ruined!" couldn't persuade her to give up on her mission to cause as much friendly chaos as possible.
She climbed out of the water a few minutes later, her hair a mess and a bright smile on her face.
"Techie! Wilby! Tubbo! Thank you guys so much for coming! I'm really glad that you could make it." She hugged them each close, enjoying the comfort of having them all together again.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Techno relaxed his posture, trying not to fidget too much. He was getting better with crowds but it was still a lot.
"You may think he's joking but he literally dragged Quackity all the way to the portal because he was too busy doing his eyeliner and would've made us late." Wilbur snickered when she leaned in to hug him, earnings him one of her patented ear-splitting laughs.
"I got a recording of it!" Tubbo proudly announced, pulling out his video camera
while still holding an arm around her.
"ABSOLUTELY NOT! LET ME HAVE SOME DIGNITY MAN!" The aforementioned Mr. Fattest Ass in the cabinet screamed indignantly as soon as he got within hearing range.
"Quackity you never had any dignity. It's too late for that." Techno flicked the duck shapeshifter on the head, earning him even more annoyed rambling which he just chose to ignore.
"Well, I'm glad that that's settled, now, I have some people I'd like for you to meet."
She directed them towards the group sitting in the shade, which consisted of False, (a now soaking wet) Grian, Stess, Mumbo (who also looked like a disgruntled cat that was just given a bath), Iskall and Ren.
Meanwhile Doc and Cleo had a little cornered off area they'd nicknamed the "cool kids club" (it was because around this time the sun got strong enough to actually burn her and Doc just felt slightly iffy about the water, since he was, ya know, half robot.)
Clemmy threw herself down on a blanket in front of a grumbling Stress who set about actually making her hair look presentable.
Niki sat down next to them and began discussing the merits of different styles to put Clemmy's hair into.
Ranboo sheepishly sat down next to Cleo's lawn chair folding all of his gangly limbs under himself.
Wilbur happily plopped himself down next to Ren on a blanket and began to hum along to the other's guitar.
Techno lay dow his cape, deciding that a nap was the best course of action in that moment.
Fundy hesitated for a second before going down to the shore to relax and just put his feet in the water for now.
Philza, the awkward dad that he was, chose to sit down close enough to the girls that he'd be able to hear what they were talking about without intruding.
Tubbo placed his stuff down by Clemmy's feet and ran out to the shore with his surf board in hand.
Going through so many conflicts in such a short amount of time really tires a person out, especially ones as young as the ones from the SMP so getting this afternoon of rest truly helped ease some of the stress given to them by recent events.
(Beach episode pog?)
Of course, this little get together wasn't without it's faults. About two hours in Doc accidentally trampled False's sand castle, who in retaliation teamed up with Cleo to dump water on him while he was relaxing.
This little conflict evolved into a battle to see who could build the biggest and grandest sand castle between "Team Himbo" and "Team Women" (one of those was coined by Clemmy). Puffy and Stress set up a good system of transporting sand from point A to point B, allowing them to move faster. False got placed on detailing duty while Niki brought refreshments for the rest of the team. Alyssa was mostly helping out wherever she could, as Cleo worked her armour stand magic to make their castle feel even more alive.
Clemmy just shouted encouragements and bullied the opposing team.
(The member list of Team Himbo has been redacted to avoid any drama about who might qualify as a himbo in the given circumstances)
Somehow the guys managed to convince Techno to join them, which immediately stacked odds in their favor to which Eret and Iskall, being the non-binary legends they are, decided to side with Team Women, now renamed to "Team Prettier Than You".
Their building contest laated for another hour before X decided to try to stop them (it wasn't because of the time. It was because TFC and Grian started shouting things about structural integrity and adding stone parts to the walls and the contestants actually listened when he decided that it was getting out of hand.)
Then it was time to actually enjoy the barbecue. Techno surprised everyone with how delicious his baked potatoes ended up. Beef also got to flex his skills a little with, as you guessed it, beef.
Tubbo and Tango sadly had to eat further away then everyone because the moment they got within ten feet of the fire something mysteriously combusted.
After that, the ZIT trio busted out the karaoke machine and the night went from good to great.
The old Team Star was dared to sing a rendition of Hermit Gang and everyone younger than 25 felt physical distress during some parts.
The sleepy bois (+Tubbo) sang a cover of "Your new boyfriend" (Techno got surprisingly into it) and then Wilbur swiped Ren's guitar to sing some Taylor Swift songs (accompanied by Tubbo on a synth he seemingly pulled out of nowhere) in that one weird accent he can do which had most people wheezing on the floor from laughter after the first song.
Niki threw down a german cover of Say So by Doja Cat. Grian, Phil and Tommy were unconsciously doing the parrot dancing thing. It was great.
Quackity sang something in spanish and Karl and Sapnap made over exaggerated swooning noises.
Skeppy and Bad did a duet. It was as adorable as it sounds.
Some other people also came on stage, belting out songs in such horridly broken voices that I'll spare you the details. Let's just say, nails scratching chalkboards would sound better.
And that was most of the festivities over with.
The last thing on the agenda? A meteor shower. How did they set it up? Clemmy's weird star child thing. The aforementioned girl was huddled close together with her family as they watched the comets streak across the clear sky (all electronics and artificial lights were shut off for the night) and Melohi played from a jukebox in the corner.
Fundy was laying his head in Dream's lap, the other boy was softly threading his fingers through his almost fiance's orange hair while leaning heavily on George and trying not to let sleep claim him as it had the fox (no one knew how this happened, all they were aware of is that the three had disappeared sometime during the sand castle contest only to reemerge having finally talked things through and come to an agreement that they all seemed happy with).
Ranboo, Niki, Puffy and Eret were collapsed in a happy pile just vibing.
The sleepy bois, who were for once actually sleepy, all wore matching flower crowns braided together by Stress's experienced fingers (and Wilbur's rather clumsy ones). Phil and her had managed to come to an agreement of unofficial joint custody after he witnessed Techno embarrassedly lean down to let her place a crown of golden flowers upon his head and saw his internal beam of pride when she called him "handsome".
The boys never really had a mother he mused, maybe she could teach them kindness where he couldn't.
Another surprise addition to the family was the owner of the third pair of wings in the cuddle pile. Phil didn't expect to end up with any more children at this point in his life, but Grain and Clemmy were practically attached at the hip and it felt wrong to even think about separating them.
He only hoped that those two wouldn't cause too much chaos especially when teamed up with Tubbo.
In the end, everyone drifted off to sleep, one by one they closed their eyes on their most perfect day. Praying for whatever might be out there, that they'll have many more moments just like this.
Well,
almost everyone.
Callahan chuckled as he walked back up to his spot with Alyssa farther away from the others. shutting off his camera after cycling through the pictures he took of everyone looking goofy while sleeping (His favorite is the one where Clemmy was very visibly munching on Techno's hair). He may not use those as blackmail but he sure ass hell was going to tease them about it later. He fell asleep there on that hill, drifting off to comforting rest like the others.
After that? Life moved on.
It was chaotic sure, and not perfect.
But it was theirs. They grew up slowly, learning to be kind to one another, how to grow with one another.
Life wasn't always perfect but hey, they had each other. And in the end? That's all that mattered.
#mcyt#dream smp#long post#i am not tagging them all#hermitcraft#lesbianinnit#sleepyblr#sleepyboys inc#hermit!tommy au#fluff#dream smp fanfiction#hermitcraft fanfiction#fanfiction#sleepyboys centric#other people are mentioned tho#trans!tommyinnit#mtf!Tommyinnit
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