#never written boatem before
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short boatem summer fic
based on this post -> (link) by @applestruda
Picture this:
It is the hottest day of the year. The sun beats down relentlessly upon any poor sap that gets caught out in it. The heat can only be described as ‘being hit in the face with a sack full of bricks that have somehow been set on fire.'
We see the Boatem crew going about various activities as the very same sun spills into an overly warm room onto well-worn floorboards. The room is small and neat. There is a crooked green carpet on the floor and pictures on the wall of five laughing people. It is a room that has seen lots of love.
A fan whirs steadily in the background. Impulse turns the page of his book, letting out a long sigh. Mumbo waters his plants, mumbling to himself and occasionally making a noise that is either pleased or disgruntled as he inspects his plants. So far, he has said “Ah!” in a pleased way fourteen times and “oh!” in a displeased way twelve times. Scar began counting an indeterminate amount of time ago out of sheer boredom. He’s been sitting in front of the fan for what feels like forever. It’s only been five minutes. Jellie meows. Impulse turns another page. Time drips by like honey. Every heat-filled second seems to take an hour to pass.
Footsteps. Enter Grian, bright wings flashing at the edge of Scar’s vision. He would look over, call out a greeting but that would mean exposing his face to the heat. Grian is not worth braving the heat, he decides.
“I am never going to move again,” Grian complains. “I am just going to lay here and melt.”
“That seems like a good plan,” Impulse agrees with a small chuckle from the only shady corner in the room. A foot prods Scar’s side.
Poke. “Scar, move over.” Another, more insistent poke.
He turns his head, just a little. The right side of his face is now uncomfortably warm, exposed to the Void-forsaken heat. Grian really does look terrible, hair plastered to his forehead, face red and sunburnt and ear-feathers limp.
“I was here first!” Scar says, a bit indignant. First dibs, right? “Go get your own fan. There’s one somewhere around here.” He ducks a little, but not enough to avoid the wing that whacks him in the head.
“Ow!” he says halfheartedly, turning his head to face Impulse. Ah, sweet, sweet relief for the right side of his face, not so much for his left. “Impulse, Grian hit me!”
“Grian did nothing of the sort,” Grian interjects, tone bright and innocent-sounding. Another wing whacks Scar again. “Scar’s the one hogging the fan.”
With a long suffering sigh, Impulse looks up from his book. The glare that Scar receives is just short of withering. Got it. Don’t interrupt Impulse. Scar yelps as he is rudely pushed over onto the floor and into the sun. The floor burns to the touch. His poor, poor, super muscle-y arms. Betrayal! Blood! Trauma! Death! He will never forgive Grian for this. He will pay.
A thump. Grian’s sigh of sheer relief is almost pathetic. Sure enough, Grian’s face is now inches from the fan, eyes closed in pure joy. Scar groans dramatically.
“Grian, how could you? My very own brother-in-arms!”
Grian scoffs. “Like you wouldn’t do the same.”
“Me?” Scar gasps. “I would never.”
“Oh you absolutely would,” Mumbo says with a snort.
“Fine, fine! I see how it is around here. No love for good ol’ Scar! C’mon Jellie, we can go join the Big Eyes Crew. I bet they have a fan. I bet their fan is bigger than ours. After all, Bdubs’ smile is the biggest there is. He’s probably got the biggest fan too.” Impulse snorts and turns the page. Grian’s wings rustle. Mumbo makes his fifteenth “Ah!” His plants must be doing well.
Scar sighs, pulling himself into an upright position and drapes himself over Grian’s shoulders. “See, this way we can share the fan!”
“Scar,” Grian whines, dragging his name out exasperatedly. “You’re too warm! Go away.”
“Come on Grian, you can say it,” he teases, smiling. “I’m too hot. I’m too hot for you.”
Scar grunts as Grian elbows him in the side, throwing him off his shoulders. Huffing, he leans against Grian’s back instead. If he can’t get the fan, a nice backrest will do. Even if that backrest has really, really pokey bony wings that dig into his back. Maybe he’ll take a nap and when he wakes up, it’ll all be over. He closes his eyes.
After what barely seems like ten minutes, he hears Pearl say “What’s all this? You guys look absolutely pathetic.” Cracking his eyes open a little and turning his head to face her, he sees her in all her moth-y glory, standing over them. She has a shopping bag in one hand. Slowly, she reaches in and pulls out-
A freezer pop.
Scar might cry. He’s never seen such a beautiful sight. He might pick Pearl up and twirl her around in joy if it weren’t so dang-blasted hot.
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#hermitcraft#boatem#grian#pearlescentmoon#impulsesv#goodtimeswithscar#hermitcraft fic#mumbo jumbo#hope its ok#never written boatem before#anyways i saw the art and just had to write a little silly thing about it#hopefully its not too stiff or weird or ooc idk#just realised impulse does not. say anything#whoops#hope i tagged everything right#i. did not tag everything right#my writing
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I'm so excited for chapter nine, there are so many characters who are all coming together for our boy Impy
#zera rambles#boatem knights au#i've never written this character before but he's SO goofy i love him#also one of my favorite duos#im so excited
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little sunshine ⋆ boatem knights au
my second short story set in bee @applestruda 's boatem knights au and canon to the plot written by zera @hopepetal !! also make sure to check out bee's bkau gem and etho designs <3 !
cw: decapitation, murder, blood
if you prefer, you can read it on ao3!
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“-And you’re sure this is the man responsible?” The room was spacious, more than big enough for hundreds to fit in, yet the tension in the air filled it with an undeniably claustrophobic atmosphere. Precious artefacts lined the walls and occupied the floors, meticulously positioned in a perfect pattern to suit the path of a would-be museum goer. Now, however, one was missing. And only the most ancient and irreplaceable of the lot, of course.
“Completely.” An odd chill ran up the spine of the curator as she spoke. It shouldn’t have been possible, she thought, she had barely taken her eyes off of that corner of the room for a second before the amulet had vanished into thin air. All she had caught a glimpse of in the aftermath, she was sure of, was a man with stark white hair and a mask darker than the deepest night sky, fleeing the scene with a swiftness she could only ascribe to a seasoned thief.
She had only ever seen that man once before, yet something in her gut was absolutely sure it was him. A few years back, she had stayed at an inn just out of town on a business trip. Her stay had been all-around pleasant, the owner undoubtedly a delight to talk to, full of cheerful stories and helpful advice for travel. The same couldn't've been said for their companion, however.
He had brooded in the corner of the inn, shooting her occasional unreadable glances as she conversed with the owner, any emotion beyond ice cold eyes concealed by a mask of blackest night. His back to the wall, practically blending in with the shadows around him, she had nearly cancelled her stay the minute she spotted him.
The only thing that had convinced her to stay despite her better judgement was the owner’s utmost insistence that that man was nothing to fear, that she’d be completely and utterly safe at the inn. Something in their tone had been so, so earnest, she couldn’t help but be inclined to believe them. They were right, she had been entirely safe after all, yet she never could quite shake the cold chill that permeated her body every time the man passed her by.
“Then it seems we’ve got a bounty on our hands.” The guard concluded with a severe nod.
“Bounty, you say?” A cheery voice asked from across the room. The curator whipped her head around to watch as polished hooves clicked onto the museum flooring.
“How did you-?” The curator asked, before cutting herself off to fully take in the person before her. There stood Gemini Tay, adorned in finely crafted emerald silks and lightweight armour, wild red hair expertly contained in a sweeping braid, and absolutely armed to the teeth in various weapons hanging lazily across her waist. It wasn’t a bad look for the most notorious bounty hunter in the land, all things considered.
“Word gets around,” Gem replied with a grin, absentmindedly twirling an intricately carved knife in her hand as she approached. “And I’m always down to lend a helping hand!”
She paused, then eyed the curator’s own ostentatious outfit. “...For a fair price, of course.”
“Of course,” The curator repeated, a keen smile worming its way to her face.
⋆⋆⋆
If there was one thing she relished in being known for, it was that once she had her target in her sights, Gem wasted no time.
It wasn’t hard to spot him, after all. The description the curator had given her was one of the most interesting she’d gotten in a while. A man known only as “Etho”, with a harsh red scar blinding him in one eye and never once seen without a dark mask obscuring half his face. During her journey, Gem had learned that nobody in the area could quite recall when he’d started working at the inn, or even if he actually worked there at all. In fact, it was a popular local rumour that the man was simply a vagrant that the kind innkeeper had taken pity on during one particularly frigid winter and never thought to kick out afterwards.
Regardless of whatever his backstory might have been, Gem couldn’t really care less. All she really cared to know about him was that he was the only thing standing between her and a ludicrously lavish payout.
It was only a lucky coincidence that the innkeeper wasn’t in when she arrived. There was her target, standing far too nonchalantly behind the counter and looking as if he was preparing to greet her. She wasn’t about to give him the chance. Instantly she swung at him, hard and fast, looking to get a clean kill. To her astonishment, however, he suddenly disappeared within a blink of an eye, reappearing once more just as fast and now on top of the counter. Gem watched as a dark, smoky substance wafted off him as he jumped down and dissipated as quickly as it appeared.
When she looked at Etho now, it was as if he were slightly transparent, blurred at the edges. She blinked, and he was whole again, no trace of anything amiss. She growled and swung again with impossible force, heaving as her sword broke the floorboards where it landed. Again, she could have sworn that some dark substance was following him, aiding him in his escape.
“Hey, hey! I don’t know what I did but, uh, I’m sure we can settle this some other way?” Etho offered as he slid backwards on the wooden floors like they were an ice rink, smoke trailing off him and weaving through the air.
“No can do sir!” Gem replied as she swung once more, again missing him by a fraction of a centimetre. “You got a hefty bounty on your head, and I intend to take it!”
The fight escalated with Gem’s frustration. She spun herself around and leaped at Etho, sword high in the air and aiming to plunge it deep into his skull. Instead, she hit the inn’s counter, splitting the wood and knocking several small objects astray. Her hooves skidded against the floor as she reeled backwards, and wasted no time forcefully wrenching her sword free.
Wood chippings now scattered across the floor, Gem paid them no mind in her pursuit. The action seemed to distract Etho somewhat, discontent flashing across his heterochromatic eyes, and she took the opportunity to strike.
Finally, with a lucky stab, she managed to pin him down against the inn’s wall, plunging her sword into his shoulder with a devastating crack and watching as what must have been blood seeped out from it. He gasped, eyes darting to the wound. A wild grin found its way to Gem’s face.
“You’re a tricky one, aren’t you?” She asked, using the moment to catch her breath before unsheathing a second, smaller sword from around her waist. The sharp blade glinted in the deep, warm light of the inn. The reflection didn’t make it to Etho’s eyes. “Shame I’m gonna have to take you out like all the rest of ‘em. I’ll make it quick, though. You’ve earned it.”
It was odd, she thought briefly. Despite the sword driven straight through him, he didn’t appear to actually really care about it all that much. His breathing was as steady as ever, and he barely moved at all beside a futile effort to scoot away from her intense gaze. His eyes were calm, watching her every move in something almost akin to silent fascination rather than the fear she had grown accustomed to. No matter, though, Gem decided as she made clean work of him, lopping off his head in a single swing.
It fell to the ground with a solid thunk, rolling slightly before making its stop like any old head should. A tenseness she didn’t know she was holding finally released, and she breathed again. Blood was splattered all over the inn’s floors, and she grit her teeth as she imagined the cut from her paycheck she’d have to give the keeper to get it cleaned. All this for some measly priceless artefact? Still, it was over.
She picked up his head by the hair, and stepped back in shock as she felt just how cold it was. Instantly, it called to mind the way it felt to grab a fistful of snow with no gloves for the first time, fingertips fully immersed in the unadulterated icy chill. For a brief moment, it reminded her of… home. Gem had never considered herself the squeamish type, especially not with an occupation such as hers, but the realization gripping hold of her in that split second was enough to make her gag.
Her grip on his hair loosened for a second, but she caught herself before the head could drop. On a second examination, she noticed what looked like snowflakes scattered in his white hair and decorating his long eyelashes. It was then she finally heard the faint crackling sound that had been slowly spreading around her. The blood that had been flowing freely from Etho’s body was freezing up, and fast.
Gem could do nothing but watch in horror as the blood on the walls and floor turned to thick ice, cracking and shattering into pieces around her as soon as it solidified. Within no time it had spread to his severed head, and she gasped as the blood that still dripped from his neck froze midair and fell to the floor, fragmenting into dozens of tiny pieces.
She broke her gaze from the head in her hands just long enough to witness a mountain of ice emerge from what remained of his body’s neck, accompanied by a low hissing noise that made her stomach churn. Gem realized then the shape that it was forming. Fractals of ice packed in and around each other, working in tandem to sculpt out a new head identical to the one in her hands. The only difference being, there was nothing to cover the lower half of his face. If she could even call that half a face.
Once the hissing had stopped, that same dark substance she had seen swirl around him in their fight began to seep out from the wound, covering the newly formed head in a thin black layer and obscuring his features. Her heart dropped as she watched the shadowy liquid be absorbed into the ice, revealing a brand new head on Etho’s shoulders, indistinguishable from the first and complete with a new mask. His eyes fluttered open.
“That wasn’t very nice of you, now was it?” Etho asked as he turned his head to look over at her, an amused smile painting his voice. Gem screamed.
⋆⋆⋆
Gem had never fainted before. With the amount of blood and guts she spilled with a smile on a daily basis, she hadn’t thought it was even possible for someone like her. Evidently, though, everyone had their limits.
More confusingly, though, was that she had awoken tucked nice and neatly in a warm bed, with at least a dozen pillows cushioning her head and antlers. With a slight turn of her head, she could see a still-warm cup of cocoa resting on the table next to her and causing a sweet scent to waft through the little room she now found herself in.
She groaned, sitting herself up in the bed and trailing her hand up her forehead, where she could feel a piece of gauze sticking out. Another glance around her surroundings revealed that her weapons were nowhere to be seen. Gem cursed under her breath.
Her eyes darted around the room. It was quaint, with wooden walls and flooring and a decorative carpet in the center. Faint light streamed in through a window, accompanied by the warm glow of a candle. Must be early morning, she thought.
Oddly though, the corner across from her seemed to be completely wrapped in shadow, defying the soft sunlight that should have illuminated it. Gem found herself unable to tear her trembling eyes away as the shadowy corner suddenly warped in her vision, the dark matter collecting and solidifying together as a familiar figure materialized before her.
Etho drifted nonchalantly towards her, stopping by the table to eye the mug, something almost disappointed flashing in his expression as he noticed it hadn’t been touched. Gem faintly spotted a stitch in the shoulder of his tunic. He turned his attention to her.
“How’re ya’ holding up?" He asked, his tone both concerned and casual at once. “You took a pretty nasty fall back there! Never seen anything like it, it was crazy.” A small laugh punctuated his last sentence.
She blinked, then blinked again, but found herself unable to erase the image of what she had just seen from behind her eyes. It was the kick she needed to jog her memory though, and she leaped backwards away from him, nearly hitting her head on the wall behind her.
“You… What in void’s name are you!?” She squawked. Etho furrowed his frosted eyebrows quizzically.
“Well, I was hoping maybe you’d be a little bit more appreciative of the setup you’ve got going on here. I even made you a hot cocoa! Iskall told me you guys love that stuff!” There was something genuine in his voice that made Gem calm somewhat, even if his words only added to her bewilderment. She turned back to look at the mug, and slowly reached a hand out to grab it.
Pulling it close to her chest, she spoke, “You made this? For me? Why? I tried to kill you! I did kill you! At least, I think? I’m… still not entirely sure what happened back there.” She stared down into the mug, feeling a weird sense of shame bubble through her. Having the man she’d killed standing right there in front of her, it felt like talking to a ghost. The bounty hunter wasn’t used to having to think about the aftermath of her career beyond what minor property damage could ensue from a struggle, nevermind like this. Her grip on the handle tightened.
“What, this old thing?” Etho asked with another laugh, pulling up his own severed head from the ground next to Gem’s bed. “I left it here for you, since you seemed to really be after it. Figured it could make a nice souvenir from your stay here, you know?” Etho seemed to pick up from Gem’s appalled expression that she did not, in fact, know.
“Okay, okay, uh, well, you can take it with you when you leave if you want.” A pause. “This… is what you’re after, right?” Gem could make out tiny frozen droplets still connected to the head’s neck, suspended in time and ice. Momentarily, she considered being alarmed at the notion that she’d been sleeping soundly next to a severed head, or grilling him on why exactly he thought putting said head in her room was a normal thing to do in the slightest. The thumping pain rattling around in her skull made the decision for her.
“Partially,” she replied curtly, evidently still attempting to win her staring contest with the mug. Finally, she broke the one-sided tension, and dared to take a small sip.
It tasted… cold? No, that wasn't right. The liquid was sweet, if a little watery, and at a comfortably warm temperature. It was more as if the ethos of the mug itself refused to be hot. Like it had reluctantly taken to the liquid, yet refused to be any more than a temporary vessel for its warmth. Or, perhaps even more strangely, as if the liquid itself wasn't quite sure it knew how to be warm.
Despite Gem’s own lukewarm reaction, Etho lit up.
“Do you like it?” he asked, his normally chill and steady voice brightening with excitement. An amused look found its way to Gem’s face at the sudden change.
“It’s nice,” she replied simply. She took another sip, then paused to close her eyes. She swore she could hear a triumphant noise from beside her as she tried to calm her searing nerves. Having the head as proof was good, sure, but the curator had expected — and promised payment for — much more. Gem needed that artefact back. She turned back to face him.
“To be honest, Etho,” She began, “Your head’s not all I’m here for. You don’t just get a bounty on your head for nothing, you know. I’m also here to retrieve that artefact you stole.”
Etho blinked. “The what?”
Now it was Gem’s turn to furrow her brow.
“You know. The amulet of the ancient Sun people? The last surviving of its kind? You took it from a museum just a few days ago.” She tilted her head, not even trying to hide her bafflement. Etho squinted at her. He tapped his fingers on the nightstand beside him thoughtfully.
“Ancient amulet… ancient amulet…” He mused. “Oh! Is that what that shiny gold necklace was? It was just lying around on a shelf at that ‘museum’ place Iskall took me to! I don’t know why nobody else thought to take it, to be honest. Here, check it out!” He tugged at something unseen underneath his mask for a minute, before producing the very artefact Gem had been seeking. He handed it to her casually as her shaky hands returned the mug to its nightstand.
“You’ve been wearing it this whole time!?” She exclaimed, yelping when the item made contact with her skin and reeling backwards at the sudden burst of heat running through her fingertips.
“Ah, yeah.” He didn’t appear too upset at its departure, though Gem couldn't help but notice his lively attitude had faded somewhat. She brushed her thumb over the deep amber pendant, briefly fascinated by the perpetual heat emanating off of it.
“It’s neat, right? I’ve never seen a necklace like it. I wasn’t planning on taking it, at first, but I really wanted to figure out why it made my fingers melt like that.”
“You really are something,” Gem muttered. “But, I’m afraid I’ll have to take this back. A job’s a job.”
He gave her a nod. “Yep, yep, fine by me. Is that all you need?”
“Oh, I have one more thing, actually,” Gem replied, tucking the amulet away safely.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I want my weapons back.”
⋆⋆⋆
The curator grinned and clasped her hands together as she spotted Gem, a full-looking satchel and small brown bag now decorating her waist alongside her clanking swords and knives. The bounty hunter approached her desk with a matching smile, untying the smaller bag and placing it before the curator.
“I see you’ve returned! Remarkably fast as well. This is?”
“The amulet, back safe and sound without a scratch. Very pretty, might I add. Anyone would be able to see why it’s the prized jewel of your exhibit. And why a rotten thief would want to take it.” Gem placed the satchel next to it.
“And this…?”
“That deplorable thief’s head, just as you asked. I can assure you, he won’t be any more trouble for you now.”
“Excellent. Then, I believe you are deserving of your reward.”
“Yes,” Gem repeated. “Excellent.”
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My next project after Firewatch AU will be my Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy AU. I've always thought it was a good idea and didn't want to abandon it, so I've been working on its plot and rewriting the first part when I hit a lull on Firewatch AU. Since I'm so far into my daily writing challenge, I'm just going to try and aim for an entire year. At day 278, you might as well go for day 365. But I will certainly finish Firewatch AU before then since I basically only have a chapter and a half left of it.
So, the HGTTG fic will be next. I will try to revisit/make some slower progress on IBW as well, but my pivot to HGTTG is calculated: after a year of relentless writing on a depressing fanfic, it's nice to work on something that is lighthearted. This fic will be a comedy (though I've never tried to write comedy) and is just all around more....relieving? for me to write. IBW is about the same level of emotionally draining to write as Firewatch AU is, since all the characters in IBW are struggling with their post moon big trauma. The HGTTG fic is intentionally wacky and campy, with only the softest bit of angst now and then to keep it grounded. It's fun.
Anyway, its working title is "the moon, and other misbehaving celestial bodies" and it's a S8 Boatem moon big fanfic. It needs some work on the plot but I'm starting it anyway. It is also much more wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey than the actual Hitchiker's books because I added time travel. This fic definitely reads as if it was written by someone whose formative years were spent watching Doctor Who LOL. The fic has a (mostly) different plot than the original books and some reworked worldbuilding to fit the minecraft setting, but I think it will be less standalone than Firewatch AU was since I am borrowing more elements. That said, if you don't have knowledge of the books, it just might read as wacky sci-fi?
#it's something less depressing to engage my brain with selfjslfjks#when i say light angst i mean more like. the hermitcraft server does get destroyed in chapter one#so mumbo (as the pov character) does contend a little with witnessing that#but it's not. deeply angsty#i promise
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AAA HERE IT IS!! This turned out to be more Pearl-centric than I intended but I still like it :D There's a bit of Scarian if you squint but it can be read as platonic or romantic; whatever you like!
I've never written a sickfic before so I hope this is ok!! Enjoy!
- sickfic anon)
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Something was wrong with Scar, there's no doubt about that.
As pearl circled the city of boatem she counted on her hand how many people she could see, like she was taking attendance. She told herself it was for business purposes; to ensure everyone was out and about and working on something productive. In reality, she was just curious about what her fellow boatem members were doing.
As she counted, she took note of what her friends were doing. One - Grian was by his train, Two - Mumbo was tending to his farm, Three - impulse was busy tweaking his build, and… four? Where was Scar? Well, he was nowhere to be found, which spiked Pearl’s concern. It had been like that all day! Where was he?
Her feet hit the ground at Grian’s train, deciding that she should ask around first before jumping to conclusions.
“Griba!” she shouted, causing Grian to yelp embarrassingly. He turned to look at her with an annoyed expression on his face, which made her smile. It wasn't a good day if she hadn't annoyed her brother at least once.
“Yes, pearl? To what do I owe this pleasure?” He asked, annoyance and sarcasm coating his voice. To anyone else, it might have come off as rude. But Pearl knew Grian well and didn't overlook how his words were stitched together with fondness.
“Well as much as I’d love to bicker I'm actually here to ask if you’ve seen Scar at all today?”
Upon her asking, she saw realization dawn on her brother's face, suddenly looking worried. Grian had been so busy all day with the G-Train that he hadn't really talked to anyone much. He completely missed the fact that he hasn't gotten his daily dose of Scar-time. That was incredibly odd.
“Come to think of it, I haven't. Have you seen him? Is he okay?” he asked, suddenly very worried. Pearl shook her head.
The two of them ran through boatem on the way to the Swaggon. Surely Scar would be there, right? On their way, they met up with Impulse and Mumbo, who also hadn't seen their Top-hat-clad friend. Not a single person getting chatted up by their dear Scar even ONCE today? Something was definitely wrong. With their worries reciprocated and anxiety bubbling, they bolted for the Swaggon. What was wrong? Was he hurt? Was he sad? Why didn't he say anything? Did they do something to upset him?
Their minds came to a stop as they reached the Sawggon, burst into the entrance and found Scar fast asleep on his bed with Jellie nuzzled on top of him. Or.. he WAS fast asleep. Now he was sat straight up, sweating, and blushing from the embarrassing shout he just made.
“W-well hello friends!” Scar spoke in a raspy voice, high-pitched and cracking. Man, they must have really spooked him. Deserved, Pearl thought. Scar scared them too!
“Scar! What's going on with you? Where’ve you been all day?” Pearl asked, still hopped up on concern. Impulse stepped in front of her with a warm smile on his face.
“I think she's trying to ask if you're okay?”
Scar blinked at them, still a little shocked from the loud surprise visit, before trying to explain himself. Unfortunately, before he could, he broke out into a coughing fit. That's when it hit them.
Scar’s face was red, his voice was rough, and he was sweating. Jellie was meowing at him, clearly concerned and bumping her head against his chest.
Scar was sick.
He cleared his throat, his friends now at his sides, asking if he was okay or needed water. They were sweet, and Scar appreciated it.
“I meant to tell you, but I must've fallen asleep! I think I'm sick.” he smiled sheepishly, thinking this would calm the nerves of his lovely friends, but they only seemed to look more concerned! Was it something he said?
“Oh Scar, is there anything we can do? Do you need medication?” Grian asked, uncharacteristically soft. Impulse and Pearl let themselves into Scar’s kitchen and started.. Well, it sounded like they were slamming pots and pans together, but Scar had to assume they were hungry. Though the noises made his head pound even harder than it was before, making him wince and hold his hands over his ears. Jellie meowed and looked at Grian like she was silently asking him to do something!!!
Grian looked at Mumbo, who didn't even need instructions. “I'm on it!” he said and clumsily ran to the kitchen to try and keep the noise to a minimum. Meanwhile, Grian sat on the side of Scar’s bed and fished out some pain meds from the bedside table, grabbing water from his inventory and helping Scar take it. Scar was perfectly capable of taking medicine on his own, but Grian seemed to really want to mother-hen him, so he didn't complain. The weight on the bed shifted as Grian crawled in next to Scar, guiding him to rest his head on Grian’s chest so he could run his fingers through his hair.
“You’ll get sick” Scar protested, yawning. He already felt much better having his friends here with him. He was so grateful he had them.
“Avians have good immune systems.” Grian lied. They weren't much different from humans like Scar, but he didn't want to leave. Scar smiled, draping an arm around Grian and feeling Jellie purring against his back. As Grian’s wings shifted to cover Scar, he felt the weight of the man increase ever so slightly on his chest, signifying that he had probably fallen asleep.
It was peaceful until Pearl ran back in, asking about where she could find chicken broth, before getting shushed by Grian. Upon seeing the sleeping form in Grian’s arms, she smiled fondly, and waved her hand, saying she’d figure out where to find it.
Scar woke up an hour later to find all his friends hanging out and softly chatting around him, Grian’s hand still stroking his hair, and was brought “Impulse’s magic soup” after they noticed his consciousness. He felt so much better already, and Pearl made a mental note to make the "attendance check" a daily activity
AWWWEH YES CUTE SO CUTE
I love it qoq pearl and Grian rushing over to help then getting everyone else <333 gah this is so good
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Stitch I am literally so normal about your heroes au but what did you do to my mossy man??? I saw what you did to my bois Scar, Grian, Mumbai Jumbolio (concussed idiot), and Iskall but what did you do to my moss ball HM???? I’m so normal about this I swear
WELL I'm glad you asked.
So what I'm thinking is that Bdubs....well he's had a rough time methinks. Imagine feeling vines burst from your body all over the place for the first time - that's gonna hurt. AND - technically - the NHO can't talk to each other. They aren't supposed to know one another. Sure, they get around that by communicating with hidden messages in their weapons and figuring out which cameras don't work or sometimes going to Doc to just speak, but - well. Bdubs is alone for the most part. Alone to deal with the pain, the new powers, and suddenly being one of the most important heroes in Boatem.
And he's good at it too. Sure, he'll downplay how good he is, but once he gets a hang of things he's on par with some of the other top heroes in the city, past and present. But I don't think he likes it. I think he's got like a month of trying desperately to convince himself that this is so COOL and he's BADASS before he probably falls into a depression at how much he risks his life nearly every day for 60k and health insurance and he doesn't even get to see his boyfriends. Well - his- his friends. Its not like they're dating or anything and Bdubs has only ever seen Doc's face and-
Yeah he's a mess.
RELATED - I do imagine they will get out of the lab and I've actually uh. WRITTEN something for this so the taglist and story are below the cut
Doc’s eye gave a lot more information than Etho’s own, but it was older. It wasn’t designed solely for field work. The fact that it broke, and Doc couldn’t be the one to fiddle with it had Etho feeling ill, but he’d manage. He felt weirdly exposed, sitting in a room with the three of them and yet entirely out of The Lab’s reach. Their escape was a miracle and Etho certainly wasn’t about to go asking any questions.
No one removed their disguises unless Doc’s eye counted as one. The creeper hybrid laid at Etho’s feet ,the bald and mottle skin around his bad eye on clear display. Etho huffed as he struggled with a screw that didn’t want to come loose. In the background, he could still hear Bdubs fighting back pained whimpers.
“Someone’s going to have to go first,” Beef said. “And – You already know my name. So.” He caught Etho’s attention, the man barely lifting an eyebrow as his head snapped to attention. Where Bdubs’s laid on a rinkydink little mattress, he was watching too.
Beef reached up and pressed a button on the underside of the mask. There was a mechanical hiss sound that Etho couldn’t help but associate with something breaking, but he watched with rapt attention anyway as the two pieces came apart and Beef discarded them on the ground. He hadn’t actually looked at Etho or Bdubs proper yet, too preoccupied with smashing the mask underneath his foot with a glare, but Etho couldn’t help but feel like his face fit his voice.
He was glad his mask hid most of his face as he felt his cheeks heat up slightly. Beef was…handsome to say the least. Etho liked the beard. He watched Beef kick the remains of what was his mask across the room, and they skittered on the tile. He looked up at Bdubs first and then to Etho proper, smiling a little and coming to sit beside him. Or, well, lean on the boxes Etho was leaning on too.
“That feels better,” he said, watching Etho’s hands as if they were moving at all.
The spy cleared his throat and went back to fighting with a screw. “For someone named the Butcher you’re a lot prettier than I expected,” he said, not looking in Beef’s direction. Beef laughed, though it cut itself off when Bdubs winced again, partially sitting up.
“I’ll go next, since everyone’s so keen-“ he said with another wince. Etho had glimpsed parts of his face, but never all of it. Never enough to get the full picture. He felt his throat going a little dry. Bdubs was…special. Important. It felt wrong to play favorites, and Etho’s brain argued that he wasn’t, not really. But Bdubs was the one who underwent the procedure. He was the one who was in pain when none of them could hold him. Someone should be holding him now.
His reveal was a little easier, since all he had to do was flip up the veil. Or pull the hood down, though as Etho understood it, the hood was a part of him now. Still, the suddenness of the motion might’ve knocked Etho off his feet if he wasn’t being supported. Beef laughed at the look in Etho’s eyes, though he was also clearly taken with Bdubs at the moment.
He was…breathtaking felt like the right word. Etho was pretty sure between Beef and Bdubs he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. His face was so soft, even as he refused to look either of them in the eyes. He winced again and fell back on the mattress and Beef snapped to attention, crouching next to Bdubs as the veil fell back into place. Etho wanted it gone. He heard Beef say something soft to him and Bdubs say something back, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying over the sound of the blood rushing around his ears.
“Etho?” that was Doc’s voice. It snapped Etho’s attention down to the floor. The creeper hybrid had an almost snarl on his face, though it was not directed towards Etho but the eye in his hand. “The damn thing broke again, huh,” he said.
Etho swallowed and nodded because he didn’t think he could get words out at the moment. Doc’s good eye squinted to see around the room and reminded Etho of his task. Doc needed to be able to see.
Beef looked up as Doc started squirming to sit up and he smiled a little. “Ah! Oh good, Doc, you’re awake,” he said. With one hand he dragged the mattress Bdubs was laying on over to where Etho and Doc were, though Bdubs protested the motion (“I’m fine! I’m only a few feet away! Stop it!”). Doc froze as he realized, it seemed, that he was seeing Beef’s face, and his hands reached out. Beef laughed and he sat on the floor in front of Doc and the two had a very quiet moment of Doc simply holding his face and staring.
“Of all the times for my eye to be broken-“ he complained.
“I’m working on it,” Etho said, waving the screwdriver around and trying to not make it so obvious that he was too busy watching everyone else. They were safe, they’d gotten away.
For now.
“Etho still hasn’t taken that mask off, so you haven’t missed everything,” Beef explaining, looking up at the only other man in the room who really knew what he was doing with Doc’s eye. He blinked, once again pausing on trying to get the screw loose.
“Ah, my face is nothing special. I’m working,” he said. A shaky hand readjusted on the screwdriver as he pointedly ignored everyone in the room looking at him.
“Etho.” He wasn’t sure who spoke. His brain really only registered that someone said his name.
“It’s true. I look like every other white-haired guy with a red eye,” he said, trying to make it come out as a laugh. He flipped the device in his hands over and worked on a different screw. He didn’t register the vines moving to peel his toy away until it was too late to stop Bdubs, who winced but did it anyway. Even though the veil, he could see where Bdubs was trying not to be too grossed out by the fact that he was technically holding Doc’s eye.
Etho huffed and smoothed his bare fingers over his shirt. The gloves protected most of his hand from most sensation, so it was nice to remind himself he could fully feel something. Grounding, like the mask. When he looked up again, Bdubs’s vines were holding his screwdriver and Doc’s eye far out of reach, and everyone was still looking at him.
“You’re going to have to give that back. Doc needs to be able to see,” Etho said, crossing his arms. He felt very put on, still standing while everyone else sat around him. It felt like he was on a stage. Like he was being devoured by eyes.
“Etho, we want you to show us your face too,” Bdubs said. Etho registered in the back of his head that the veil was gone. He swallowed, finding it difficult to even look away from Bdubs.
He cleared his throat and managed to turn his head anyway, and with a deep breath he reached up to pull it down. Taking it all the way off felt like too much. Even now, he liked what little anonymity the mask gave him, and he knew he’d probably pull it back up after they saw their fill. He moved to sit down with them before turning back to look at them.
There was a soft and collective inhale, and Bdubs’s face broke out in a smile. “I knew it! Beef owes me five bucks!” he shouted, and Beef smacked him on the shoulder while Etho looked on, confused.
“I – What?” he asked.
“The scar! It goes all the way down your neck. Beef thought it ended on your cheek,” Bdubs said, clearly very proud of himself. “I knew that couldn’t be true because there’s a little bit of it that peeks out from under the button on the neck part-“
Beef smacked his shoulder again while Etho’s face burned, though frankly it was probably better than one of them waxing poetic about his features or thinking he was ugly. He could handle a bet for now and pulled his mask back up.
Doc didn’t say anything, but Etho could tell when the hybrid was cocking an eyebrow at him. He didn’t have eyebrows, but that wasn’t important. It was being cocked. “…I like the mask,” Etho said quietly, holding out his hand for Doc’s eye back.
@atherix @braxiatel @greatbridge @ellalily @lesbianwilby @em-mermaid @loombarrow @sparksnevadas @aceofthefandoms
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9 and 24
[For the Fanfic End of the Year Ask Game]
9. Longest WIP of the year
D'you wanna know something? I was honestly surprised by the results of this one. I was 100% certain it was going to be Through a Crack in the Void. It you only count what I posted to Ao3, it stands at 30,587 words, but if you add what I've also posted to Tumblr beyond that, it adds up to a whopping 38,217. That's about half the length of the first Harry Potter book, and it's still sitting near the beginning of its plot. (Which isn't the longest fic in my roster overall, because my Iron Dad Marvel fic is sitting at a over 130k words and, again, it's not even half finished akdjbakbjwkaf.)
HOWEVER, I thought I'd check Domino Effect because - ya know - I started them both around the same time so I was curious.
39,456 words, which means it beats out TaCitV by a meager 1,239 words. Unlike TaCitV it's also sitting in one Google doc, which means I can also tell you that it's 76 pages long and counting. Geez!
24. Favorite fic you read this year
I'm gonna recommend three, because they're all amazing and I can never pick one fic. (And I'm sure you've read at least one of them.) There ARE a few others I contemplated for this, one of which is the Take A Chance On Me AU I've talked about before, and one of which is a DSMP fic where Tommy respawned as a crow...but I'm not gonna bog down this post with a million fic recs lmao.
1) Adaptive Nature by @scribbling-dragon (WIP)
It's an Empires S2 fic (with Team Rancher) that's all told from the POV of The Sheriff. From what I recall he has never once mentioned his name, though we know it's meant to be Jimmy. There are no Minecraft mechanics in this AU to my knowledge, so no respawn, no inventory, and no communicators. But basically - the Sheriff is drawn to some ruins in the mesa beyond the border of the newly-founded Tumble Town. He finds a dragon statue there, is affected by it somehow, and finds himself...changing, though I won't say how here for the sake of spoilers. He also meets and befriends archeologist Pixlriffs, through whom he meets another member of the archeology guild, Tango, both of whom teach the Sheriff about something called "the corruption" that happened centuries ago. (AKA Empires S1) It's so well written, and there are so many mysteries still unsolved! The Sheriff is secretive about his past which he left behind, there's some skulk thing that Pixl is studying, there's something to do with a dragon - dude. Just - if you haven't, go read it. It's stellar.
2) Covet by Oceanbreeze7 @digitalta (WIP)
An AU in which Grian never joined Hermitcraft, but Pearl did. Grian has been missing, presumed dead, ever since Evo. Now - in Season 8 of Hermitcraft - the Boatem crew have broken ground into the void below the Boatem Hole...but the hole isn't as empty as it seems. Something is lurking beneath it, and while at first the shy and elusive creature they've named "Scout" is nothing more than a friendly and gift-giving enigma, he becomes so so much more once they start trying to figure out what exactly their strange guest is. This one is hauntingly beautiful in its writing, with some pretty poetic chapters and some gorgeous imagery. There is body horror in this, so be mindful of that, but - holy moly. It's so so good, with a pretty fantastic balance of angst and fluff and reveals, and - yes. So much yes.
3) To Hoe Where None Have Hoene Before by tablrcloth
Otherwise known as that one fic where Tango and Jimmy try to get all the husbandry achievements in Double Life. It's - guys, it's cute as shit. It's short and sweet, very sweet, and I've reread it like three times. <3
#Ask the Mage#Ask Game#Hybbat Asks#Fanfic EOY Ask Game#I might have to go through my bookmarks after this and find some old faves
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22 and 29 for the writer's ask
22. Do you know how your fic will end before you start writing?
For the most part yeah! either because i've written a short little bare bones outline or because ive like imagined the whole thing in my head lol. The only exception is probably my alphabet challenge series on ao3, most of the time I started writing and didn't know how I was gonna end it until I was almost done
29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)
Chapter 2 of Can't Go Back (This Time) almost had a completely different (and much more dramatic) version of it, and here's a little snippet of that
“That's honestly probably our best bet,” Impulse said, staring into the void surrounding them, “Jumping into the void right now would just make us lose all our stuff, and then we’d have to grind for everything again before we can try again. Walking will take a while, but I’m not exactly looking forward to losing everything this early in the season,” he tried for a smile, but it didn't quite reach the mark. Pearl saw the tension around his eyes, saw how they kept straying to the void around them, how he kept glancing at his communicator every few seconds, trying to see if anyone had responded to them. If anyone was coming for them.
This was almost too close to how it felt to be floating in the void after season 8. She felt off kilter, like if she closed her eyes for even a second, by the time she opened them again, she’d be back in that endless void, nothing but her fellow Boatem members surrounding her and desperately trying to keep each other sane.
But it wasn't the same, she told herself. This time, they had solid ground under them, this time they didn't have to wear space suits just to be able to breathe, this time they had gem with them and all of them were well rested.
Fic Writer Ask Game
#like i like the final version of chapter 2#but also i kinda wish i had explored pearl's end trauma a bit more yknow#<- sentences i never thought id say#roy talks#answered#ask game
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FERAL MUMBO MY BELOVED. MY ANGEL. MWAHHHHHHHHH. Shattering glass in his hand because Blondie fed on Scar, not caring about the GLASS in his HAND because BLONDIE fed on SCAR AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH god him caring more about protecting than vengenace is S U C H a good use of that trope though, what a genius way to snap him out of it oh my GOD. I loves him. My precious.
Also though you are doing some absolutely genius things with your magic system and they are absolutely SENDING me. I have an english degree so as you can guess, picking this stuff apart in your askbox is my JAM. The dichotomy of vampire and scar's magic [since its not quite fae or sorcerer] where vampires seem to use their magic much still, and gain magic through a 'still' action [drinking blood], and Scar has to move in order to cast which - So I've read through everything twice and going back and reading the chapter where Scar is casting illusions of Boatem for Grian to understand the history and looking at how he sways and moves through the very illusions he's casting like a gentle breeze, compared to the SPINNING and SLAMMING of him casting magic while he fights for his life is EVERYTHING to me.
Giving Grian the main POV of the story is also genius, because [well, given the 'not a watchr yet' tag, as of right now - ] it means the POV character is learning the magic as we go along, but Mumbo and Scar ALSO have to learn EACH OTHERs magic and livelihood, which means we STILL get that in other POVs. It's such a smart way to handle your worldbuilding and I'm actually doing something similar in a novel I'm writing rn [wherein the MC is a museum director being drug along on a quest by an Immortal, All Powerful Wizard] so I'm sitting here just taking notes about how you handle all the worldbuilding without infodumping it on us because I've never written fantasy before so im like 👀👀
Also I know she's NOT Pearl since you don't wanna make any of the lifers or hermits the bad guys, understandable, but I can really feeling the Pearl-in-Double-Life vibes being channeled through Blondie and what a genius way to handle that as well - Having an OC in a story that FEELS like another character makes it a lot easier to accept that they're there in the fanfiction and helps to avoid any self insert vibes. It's genius. She's scary but also. I love her. In a villian way.
Mumbo might be going feral but the safety and needs of his Coven friends is the most important thing and even Seeing Red he knows this <3 I just knew that I want Mumbo to be capable of going Feral(TM) but even if/when he does he still has enough sense to prioritize <3 ALSO because this chapter kind'a establishes that Mumbo has that Lord feel that he said you would "know when you [saw]" so it was important for me to draw a clear and stark line between Mumbo and the "bad Lords" (the ones who act like masters over servants rather than protectors of a family/pack) so <3
AAAA THANK YOU I love exploring magic systems and making them as unique as possible <3 Ooo that is delightful, I love seeing your analyses <3 YES YES YES YOU NOTICED Elves are always in motion when using magic (not just Scar, but Scar is the only Elf who uses a staff and unlike Sorcerers who require a staff to focus and direct magic he also needs to move his staff to properly channel his magic and just gjfdjds) and Vampires don't need to move at all (and in fact their most typical magic, which is magic absorption/Turning, requires being STILL to safely perform <3) I am so happy someone picked up on that hhfgdhjgfdjhshj
YESSS it's a very gentle vs rough movement which gives the magic its different oomphs and I greatly enjoy the imagery of "graceful dance with the wind" and "dangerous dance in a hurricane" jhfgdskj, some parts you can definitely see him leaning more on Fae magic or Sorcery (spinning/twirling his staff and creating an ethereal wind and weaving spells on the spot and gentle movements vs heavy use of pre-set glyphs activated with a wave of his staff and charging the staff with raw magic but no actual spell etc etc) and one is much more suited for fighting than the other so <3
(thank you for remembering that tag because it's gonna get important again soon <3) I love love LOVE limited POVs bc it means I get to choose the character who knows the LEAST about a particular situation <3 Yessss originally the Midnight Series was written completely from Grian's POV, and the biggest reason I decided to split it up like this is because so much of the story gets lost BECAUSE Scar and Mumbo have to learn about each other hjfdskj and it's super important for me (as a poly person) that Mumbo and Scar develop a relationship both WITH Grian and WITHOUT Grian <3
Oooo I love that, that sounds so cool 👀👀 Fantasy is so much fun to write, fantasy and sci-fi are probably my favorite genres because what's sci-fi if not just technofantasy <3 I wish you luck, I believe in you!! And when it's published one day I will find it and be like <3 Anon <3
HAHA YES I really liked Unhinged Pearl but Pearl cannot be a villain in this series for multiple reasons I cannot explain cuz of Spoilers(TM) so I decided to channel her unhinged energy into this OC, it's fun and familiar but not a copy-paste so <3 Especially since she ended up being such a huge character in the story, turning out to be a bit of a main antagonist at this point jhfdsjk so yeah haha I love her and she's an irredeemable POS <3 I am so wary about using OCs but my wariness about OCs was less than my Not Wanting to Make Canon Characters Villains, I'd much rather let them be townsfolk and other magical creatures that befriend the main cast somewhere in the background than make them a character that the narrative is setting up to die <3 Haha-
Thank you so much this was wonderful to wake up to <3 <3 And now I'm back to writing <3
#Ask#Midnight Series#Mumscarian fantasy AU#Should I tag these as hermitshipping for filter purposes? Probably#hermitshipping
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OH MY GOD I JUST LOOKED UP FROM THE ARCHIVES IM SCREAMING HOW HAVE I NEVER SEEN THIS BEFORE holy shit
(i am very excited for u to post that omg)
me and my sibling listened to that episode the other week it always makes me giggle he’s so silly 😭 (he’s a grown man who could Probably kill me if i wronged him or martin but he’s my silly guy)
why does jonmartin lowkey give scarian ? or highkey ???
🪼
FROM THE ARCHIVES IS LITERALLY WHAT MADE ME LISTEN TO TMA SINCE I WANTED TO READ IT SO BAD WHAT- its really REALLY good btw boatem is the archive team and its soooooo well written. i also giggle whenever hes being particularly morally questionable and using his powers. me when the free will hits ig. also yeah youre right i think its the unhealthy but also insanely necessary love that makes that true. jons like a littleeee bit more intimidating than martin but i still see the point.
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I would like to request an Impulse x Reader where the rest of Boatem is trying to get them together? Hope you enjoyed your little break!
I accidenally got carried away, heh~
P.s happy valentines everyone!
At Long Last
Oneshot
Contains: Fluff, A Couple Kisses, Boatem causing mischief
---------------------------------------
Today had started like any other, you woke up, got ready for the day and got to work on the giga base.
Unlike most other days you found yourself surrounded by all but one of the other Boatem members.
They had dropped in around you all at once from who even knows where and demanded your attention at once.
You had been presented with a book written in code, one you couldn't fully decipher, and told to sign it.
Without much of a choice you had done, Pearl taking you by one arm and Mumbo by the other.
They had walked you to the boatem hole, taking you down and shutting you in a large empty room, aside from two chairs, with a tinted glass window.
"Take a seat." A voice calls from the window. You recognise it as Scar's, he and the others must be behind the glass.
You do as you're told, sitting in one of the two chairs.
"Bring him in." Scar's voice calls again.
It's an eerie command, a hidden door at the other side of the room sliding open.
It reveals Impulse, the only boatem member to be missing from the start.
Pearl pushes him into the room before the door slides shut.
At first he doesn't notice you're there, trying to see if he can open the door from the inside of the room.
He's good at redstone yes but Mumbo matches him and that's without the others for building.
The room would not open that easily.
When he finally notices you you cast your eyes down, hoping he didn't notice you staring.
You hear him walk over, the chair opposite you scraping along the floor, an indication that he's now sitting across from you.
Which turns out to be true when you look up.
The two of you share a glance, an expression of confusion. But it doesn't last long before you both draw your eyes away.
Silence falls, you steal the occasional glance at Impulse but spend most of your time staring at the tinted glass.
What were the others thinking?
You know they're there watching. Why wouldn't they be?
They brought you here and locked you in a room with the devilishly handsome Impulse.
Only now does it dawn on you why you're here.
Why Impulse is here too.
You look in the opposite direction of your friend, face turning red as you realise.
But how can you say anything?
Sure you have deep rooted feelings for the man but how can you tell him that?
You've spent the entire time you've lived in Boatem trying to skate around your feelings.
Now you're here, locked in a room with no sign of escape.
You're here because they know, the others know.
But just telling Impulse isn't that easy.
You shift, suddenly uncomfortable with how you're sitting in the chair. Changing position is the only option.
As you glance over at Impulse you find your eyes meeting his.
He's the one to look away first.
But he's also the one to say something.
"So, what now?" You can tell he's thinking, the usually bubbly tone he speaks with replaced with a lower more casual voice.
One you've heard a few times, one that will never get old. His natural voice.
"I don't know." You say, only to be corrected by a disembodied voice.
"Yes you do." Grian's quip catches the attention of the man inside the room with you, who now stares at the glass.
"What do you mean?" He asks, only to be met with silence.
Which turns his attention to you.
"I can't tell you." You look away in an effort to not let him see the blush making its way onto your face.
"Come on, if you know the way out of here why don't you just share and we can leave?"
The glass catches your eye, the light bouncing off of it.
In its reflection you can see yourself and you can see Impulse.
It's just the two of you, his head turned in your direction, his focus on you.
If only it were under different circumstances, you'd find yourself flushed either way.
You wish that the image that was reflected, the one created in your mind was reality.
That you would find yourself sat beside him somewhere nice, just the two of you.
Your mind races with thoughts and possibilities, all the things you have wanted, all the things you do want.
You do want those things, those romantic scenes you've thought about, being able to spend time with Impulse and be open about your feelings.
You want him to know that you love him.
You want to tell him.
You will.
You stand, pulling your eyes away from the glass, from the imaginary world, and turn to the very real Impulse who is still looking at you.
Why you decided to stand up, you're unsure, but it would be awkward to sit back down now.
"I know why we're in here. At least why I'm in here. It must be so obvious to the four other members of out little community."
"Boatem is a business move-"
"Not now Mumbo." You send a stern look in the direction of the glass, hoping you've looked at the former CEO of Boatem.
"Boatem may be a business move, it may be a community, I don't know and I don't care. But I am grateful for it. I'm grateful because I get to spend so much time with you." Impulse looks a little baffled for a second, but he seems to quickly cotton on to where you're headed with your little speech.
"Y/n, you don't have to do this here." He states.
"Yes you do." Scar's voice fills the room.
"No they don't." Impulse stands now. "Y/n I love you."
Your attention is on him in a second.
Did he just?..
Surely not.
He takes a hold of your hands. "I love spending time with you, being around you. I only ever joined Boatem because I knew you were here. I never said anything because I didn't think you felt the same-"
Silence.
His words are cut off, mainly by your impatience.
You've waited so long for this moment, for this kiss.
It's short, but it says more than you ever could.
Impulse smiles, still holding your hands he pulls you closer to him.
"I love you too." You finally say, although it's been more than proven at this point.
"Be mine?" All that's needed is a nod, the two of you sharing another kiss, which is unfortunately interrupted.
"Interesting show." Grian snickers.
You turn around, seeing all four other Boatem members in the door you had originally come through.
"At long last." Scar sighs, "it only took the two of you.. two seasons?" He smirks.
"Yeah this has been going on since Season 6. I thought it was never going to happen." Mumbo adds, which is the final straw for you.
"Oh that's it, you're all in for it." Mumbo's eyes widen, Scar shifting to stand behind Grian and Pearl, the two of whom share a knowing look and a giggle.
You start to march in their direction, the cheek of the lot of them.
But you're stopped.
"Me now, them later." Impulse says, his voice soft, calming.
You relax as he pulls you back against his chest, but gesture to the other Boatem members that you're watching them.
They all back out of the room, leaving the door open this time.
You and Impulse leave the room, surprised to find that it was built into the company sports horse garage.
Once out in the open with no other hermits in sight he takes a hold of your hand, the two of you enjoying your first moment outside in the world as a couple.
It's nice, the world seems a little more vibrant than it did before.
Your base, Impulse's base next door which then connects to all the other Boatem hermits.
Noticing your focus being drawn to the others' bases Impulse leans toward you.
His voice is a whisper as he tells you "we'll get them back soon."
"Yes we will," you reply with a small laugh, "yes we will."
#impulse x reader#impulsesv x reader#hermitcraft x reader#oneshot#hermitcraft#impulse#impulsesv#request#fluff#boatem#hermitcraft season 8#grian x reader#pearl x reader#mumbo x reader#scar x reader#mutual pining#mcyt x reader
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Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 8.1
Over the course of the next couple of days Scar helped George and Skeppy get settled in. He introduced them to the other Boatem People. There was Pearl, who lived in the upside down boat house, Impulse, who Skeppy thought looked a lot like a buffer version of George, and Mumbo, who had an impressive mustache and lived in an RV pulling a tiny house.
Scar helped George build a mushroom house in the space between Pearl and Impulse's houses, while Skeppy very quickly got involved in helping Pearl prank everyone on the server by tipping their cows (and every other animal for that matter) upside down. She had to convince Skeppy not to tip anyone's named pets though.
The Boatem hole was opened up to the void. Now that Skeppy could get a good look at it, it kind of terrified him. The never ending darkness. George tried to push Skeppy in, which led to Skeppy chasing George around with a diamond sword for a good ten minutes. Scar fell in several times. He seemed fine, though that could be debatable. Falling in the void had to have some kind of consequences, didn’t it?
Scar got a new, bigger, better hat. Skeppy tried stealing it, trading it back and forth with George as Scar chased them around Boatem begging for them to slow down. Pearl even showed up and joined in the hat trading, but then she made them give it back. There was something under her chipper mannerisms that neither of them wanted to cross. She was nice, but Tubbo was nice, he had nukes, Foolish was nice, he controlled lightning, Puffy was nice, she killed Ant. In their experience, nice meant dangerous.
Grian got bored just sitting around all day and was soon back to his usual pranks. He summoned a giant tree golem with Pearl’s help that tried to eat Mumbo’s van till Mumbo talked to her and calmed her down. His peace, love and plants thing really did come in handy sometimes. Mambo found out that her name was Treesa. Now she just sat watching over Mumbo’s house and humming to herself with the sound of rustling leaves and groaning wood. Sometimes Mumbo could be seen sitting on her shoulder talking to her as she listened, her eye’s closed and her branches swaying in the breeze as she soaked in the sun.
Impulse opened up a shop called I-Soar selling elytra and rockets. Skeppy and George were fascinated by them and when no one was looking they stole some elytra to give them a test run. Skeppy immediately flew into a wall and died, while George fared a little better but died when he tried to land. Everyone's inboxes were buzzing with notifications as a string of death messages appeared in the chat. It didn’t take long for Scar and Impulse to find the two culprits. Skeppy tried to jump off the roof he was standing on and fly away, but he timed it wrong and landed with a splat, his items going everywhere. George started running, he was on the ground and unable to get any air.
Impulse was easily able to catch up to him with his own elytra. When Skeppy returned for his stuff Scar and Impulse admonished them for stealing. Then they gave them some flying lessons, showing them how to use the rockets to give them a boost and how to land without taking damage. They were only fifty percent successful. Though, when they were done they made them return the Elytra. To be honest, Skeppy and George were both quite done with the whole affair and glad to be back on the ground. The novelty had worn off a while ago and Skeppy and George were tired of constantly dying to fall damage.
Grian designed a game of hide and seek that involved the Dragon egg, while George and Skeppy secretly plotted to steal it when no one was looking.
Skeppy also finally decided to build a base for himself. He collected a ton of diamonds. Some of them came from his enderchest (Which he seemed to still be able to access). A bunch of them he got from taking a page from Scar’s book and going door to door, selling the Hermits random junk. He may have also taken all the diamonds from the center of the diamond ore tower outside Cub’s base. They were just sitting there in the open, practically asking to be taken. Using these diamonds Skeppy made a diamond block box house (When he ran out of diamonds he used dirt) in the middle of the town center next to the Boatem pole.
The look on Grian’s face when he saw it was totally worth all that work to get the diamonds. Grian practically begged him to take it down or move it. He even tried bribing him with more diamonds but Skeppy insisted that it was the most beautiful house in existence and he was going to live there forever. He even threatened to move it onto Grian’s front lawn.
This place wasn’t that bad, Skeppy was actually enjoying himself here.
---
Skeppy was nowhere to be found. Bad had searched through their mansion, and at the locations of their various projects, he even looked around the Greater Dream SMP, calling Skeppy’s name the entire time. The Diamond was gone.
This wasn’t the first time Skeppy had gone off on his own for weeks to sulk, only to come back a month later as if nothing happened. But usually he would at least make a big huff about how he was leaving and never coming back and how Bad was a bad friend. This time there was none of that. He had just left.
Bad felt a tightness in his chest as tears pricked at his eyes. Was he really that bad of a friend? What had he even done to make Skeppy run off without even saying anything? They had already made up after the whole egg debacle.
Bad shook his head “No, I’m a good friend. I’m the best friend. He’ll be back any day now, he’s probably just running errands or something,” Bad tried to convince himself... now that he thought about it he didn’t know where Skeppy went off to whenever he ran off.
Without even realizing it Bad found himself standing near the entrance to the spider spawner... the entrance to the Egg’s domain. He stopped. He had been free of the Egg’s influence for several months now. But the egg might know how to find Skeppy. The Egg could find Skeppy. No. Bad tore his eyes away, shaking his head and walking briskly down the path in the other direction. He had tried that before, it hadn’t ended well for him.
Bad felt a pit in his stomach. He genuinely regretted the things he had done while under the Egg’s influence. But the Egg could give him what he wanted. No. it never actually gave him what he really wanted, he knew that now. He knew that then too, he just hadn’t wanted to believe it... He didn’t need the Egg... but... it would be there. As a last resort. If all else failed.
[Notes: This one was inspired by another comment by @the-local-scp, Thanks again. I wasn’t originally planning on writing Bad’s perspective for a while. Skeppy runs off all the time. But then I thought about it and it makes sense that he would notice. He always notices, and this time he has no idea why Skeppy left. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. This is the end of my pre-written stuff. The next one is probably going to be a bit of a long one so it may take a while before it gets posted, or I may break it up into smaller chunks... we’ll see]
#dsmp#dream smp#hermitcraft#dsmp au#dream smp au#hermitcraft au#hc x dsmp#hc x dsmp au#hermitcraft dsmp swap au#skeppy#georgenotfound#grian#good times with scar#impulsesv#pearlecentmoon#mumbo jumbo#badboyhalo
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for requests how about: impulse, encountering some or all of the day one crew and getting Very Uneasy because oh shit, the 3rdlife memories are coming back hard
Hey! Sorry this took me SO long to finish. It was a hard one to write because between you asking this (I think?) and now, Impulse had that whole encounter with Bdubs on the path and I was like "Well I don't want to just write that" and then Cleo showed up? And I haven't ever written her before (except for a few lines in another hero, another mindless crime) so I had to go watch a ton of vids and streams and--
okay. Excuses over. Please enjoy this little "Impulse has a bad time but Friends Are Good" drabble. <3
~~~
Sweet Dreams
The Crastle was bigger than he remembered. Had this hallway always been here? This doorway? This arch that led to another hall…which branched and spiraled and led up stairs and down Escherian ramps in a labyrinth of stone walls and a floor dotted with pressure plates?
Impulse found himself running, breath coming in short, panicked gasps as he dashed down the halls, throwing open doors and darting around corners, leaping over the pressure plates—someone was chasing him.
They were coming for him, glowing red eyes and white teeth—fangs—glinting in the shadows. And over all, the ever-louder beat:
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
It pounded in his ears, deafening, and he stumbled to cower against a wall, hunching with his arms over his head, trying in vain to drown it out. But no—no, it was even louder now, thumping so close it rattled his teeth, and he looked down to see blood spreading across his shirt and at the center where his heart should be: a golden clock embedded in his chest.
“They gave me a clock, Impulse.”
His head snapped up. Bdubs, eyes blank and red like two burning embers, stared down at him, no expression on his grey face.
“Ride or die?” Cleo’s voice came from behind him, and Impulse spun to see her glaring down the length of a crossbow, her eyes as scarlet and expressionless as Bdubs’. “How about… die.”
She fired the crossbow, the bolt exploding into flames that swarmed toward Impulse’s face—
He shot upright in bed, gasping for air. He swallowed hard, rubbing his chest as he gradually caught his breath. His heart pounded so loudly that for one horrible moment he thought it might really have been replaced with a bloody golden clock.
But no. Around him, the night was cool and dark, the silence of the Boatem village broken only by the faint rattling of a distant skeleton and the lowing of cows.
Just a dream. Just a nightmare.
Just another nightmare.
Impulse slumped back against his pillows, flopping one arm over his eyes and letting out a long, shuddering sigh in the darkness. It had been months since they’d moved on from the 3rd Life server, months of good times and laughter and the excitement of new projects and builds… and yet at night, when the voices of his friends faded away and Impulse was left alone with himself—he found himself back. Time and again, his sleeping mind returned to the Crastle, or to Dogwarts, or to the sandy dunes of the Red Desert. And inevitably, he found himself face to face with nightmare versions of his day-one crew: Bdubs and ZombieCleo, red-eyed and vengeful.
“I never betrayed them,” he muttered to the darkness. “Never.”
So why did he feel guilty?
Well. If he was honest with himself… it wasn’t really guilt. Or it was, but not because of anything he’d done in 3rdLife—no, the guilt he felt was because the primary emotion associated with Bdubs and Cleo in his dreams was fear.
These were his friends! Being afraid of them went against every instinct he had, every good memory and inside joke and shared experience. And that was a different world anyway—different rules, different lives. It didn’t change anything here on Hermitcraft.
And yet…
And yet when he saw that clock on Bdubs’ belt the other day, or when he’d come up out of the mines that first morning in Boatem and Cleo had been standing right there, Impulse hadn’t been able to suppress the rising wave of panic that swept over him. Panic over being caught in his web of lies, panic that he might hurt the only people he trusted, panic that they didn’t trust him—
Enough was enough. He needed to get past this; he couldn’t spend the rest of the season (the rest of his life?) having anxiety attacks whenever he encountered any of the other Crastle crew members. Talking with Bdubs on the trail had helped, but… he hadn’t seen Cleo since the first days of the server.
That needed to change.
Impulse threw off the covers and pushed himself out of bed, padding down the stairs to the main level of his house. Grabbing his communicator from where he’d left it atop the crafting bench, he tapped out two quick messages:
<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: hey, can we meet up and chat? Spawn egg, around noon?
He set down the communicator and turned to go to bed, but to his surprise, it buzzed with an immediate reply.
<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: everything alright?
<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: yeah sure, I just |
Impulse stared at the blinking cursor for a moment, then backspaced and started again:
<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: not really. but it’s nothing major. just want to chat a few things over with you.
<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: Impulse it’s 3 in the morning. you wouldn’t be messaging if it wasn’t major. want to talk now?
He blinked. That… wasn’t the response he’d expected. He hesitated, finger hovering over the touch screen.
<impulseSV> you whisper to ZombieCleo: sure.
<ZombieCleo> ZombieCleo whispered to you: i'll come to you.
.
///
.
Impulse was waiting on the roof when Cleo arrived, swooping in with the dry rustle of elytra wings to land on the cobble-and-slabs rooftop.
He looked up at her with an automatic smile, but she didn’t even wait for a “hey” before plopping down beside him.
“Alright, Impulse,” she said, her brisk tone ordering, rather than inviting him to speak. “What’s going on?”
Pulling his knees into his chest, Impulse wrapped his arms around his legs, the cobblestone beneath him still radiating a bit of warmth from the day’s sun.
“I…” he let his voice trail off, not sure where to begin.
“Out with it.” Cleo held out her hand, palm up, as if waiting for him to drop something into it. “Spit it out. It’s not gonna get any better for stewing on it.”
This was a dumb idea. Impulse closed his eyes and, before he could talk himself out of it, let the words spill out in a rush:
“I keep having dreams. Nightmares. About being back… back there. At the Crastle, mainly. And, ah—” he chuckled nervously and opened his eyes, looking sideways at Cleo. “You and Bdubs are there. And you’re… mad. Yeah, you’re really mad. And you don’t trust me. And—" he took a deep breath. “I keep dreaming that you’re so mad you kill me.”
Cleo tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “But we didn’t. Well,” she corrected herself. “I didn’t.”
“I know, I know—it’s stupid. It doesn’t make sense, and I know that, but…” he swallowed, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I need to get it off my chest. Because even thought I know it’s not real, and I know this is an entirely different world, and I know that nothing from that server really changes anything, I can’t just… turn off what my brain does when I’m not paying attention to it. You guys are my friends and I’m getting real tired of feeling like I need to start running every time I see one of you. To be honest, sitting here right now even is making me antsy.”
Overhead, the stars continued on their paths in silence, and somewhere in the village a couple of sheep baa-ed at each other plaintively.
“Well. That’s… something. That’s certainly something, isn’t it.” Cleo was quiet for a moment, examining him. Impulse looked away, suddenly finding his fingernails deeply interesting.
“Impulse.”
She reached out and laid a hand on his arm, and he instinctively flinched away. Cleo raised both eyebrows at him this time, pulling her hand back—then deliberately replacing it, her fingers cool and firm through the thin fabric of his sleeve. “Impulse,” she repeated, her tone gentle but brooking no argument. “You… you know I’m not good at this stuff. But at the risk of getting in way over my pay-grade: we’re good. We’re your friends.” She gave him a shake. “We love you, you idiot. No amount of murdery games on another server gonna change that.”
Impulse gave a little laugh, pretending neither of them could hear the emotion that made his voice catch in his throat. “Wow, Cleo,” he said. “Love. Big word.”
“Bah.” She shoved him away, throwing her hands in the air. “I love everybody, you’re not special.” But there was a grin in her voice. “And anyway—why me? You’ve got a lotta nerve, Impulse, having nightmares about me killin’ you.”
“Hey, you were scary with that crossbow.”
“I was, wasn’t I.” Cleo sounded satisfied about that.
The knot in Impulse’s chest was slowly loosening, and he glanced over to see Cleo leaning back on her hands, staring up at the sky. The faintest tinge of pinkish-grey was starting to appear on the eastern horizon. The Boatem crew would be up and about soon—Grian in particular had a tendency to be up at an ungodly hour of the morning.
“Hey—” Impulse said, lowering his voice again. “Um. Thanks. For swinging by. Sorry for being weird about all this.”
“Impulse if you start apologizing for being weird you’re never going to stop.” She made a face at him. “Because you’re very weird.”
“Thaaaanks.”
Cleo gave him an easy punch on the shoulder. “You know you adore me,” she said. “And if it makes you feel any better, I can promise you this: I will kill you again at some point, I’m sure. And it’ll have nothing at all, whatsoever, to do with Third Life: it’ll be because you deserve it.” She paused. “Or because I just want to.”
Somehow, out of all the things she could have said, a casual threat of violence was the thing that did the trick. Impulse laughed—out loud, for real, a genuine laugh that shook loose the tension in his shoulders and chased away the phantom of Cleo standing over him with a crossbow.
“Thanks, Cleo.”
Cleo stood, and patted him on the head, ruffling up his hair. “There’s the obnoxiously-cheerful Impulse I know and loath,” she teased. “Can’t have you being all maudlin over here—I’m the gloomy one on this server.”
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Impulse asked, smoothing down his hair and also standing.
She waved a hand dismissively. “Nah. You know me—I don’t do the sleeping thing much. Too much work to do: graves to dig, bodies to—” she grinned darkly “—find. ‘S a lot for an entrepreneuring zombie like myself.”
“Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to it.” Impulse tried to stifle a yawn. He wasn’t entirely successful.
“Go to bed, Impulse,” Cleo laughed, activating her elytra. “And try to only have normal nightmares about me for a while. Ya know—ones where I’m properly zombie-terrifying, not this Crastle nonsense.”
“I’ll do my best.” He watched her fly off, and yawned again, this time wide enough to pop his jaw.
Alright. Let’s try this one more time. Sleep.
He left the roof and reentered his house, which suddenly felt much more cozy and far less empty and cold than it had when he’d first awakened. Sliding back under his blankets, he tugged them up around his ears and closed his eyes with a sigh.
Something exploded outside, and his eyes popped back open.
Maniacal laughter echoed over the hills of Boatem, and Impulse deliberately rolled over, burying his head under the pillow.
Tomorrow’s insanity would come soon enough. For now: sleep.
((sweet dreams, Impulse.))
#here have some impulse hc#as a treat. and because impy deserves it#redwinterwrites#sweet dreams#impulsesv#hermitcraft
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Writer’s cut??? 👀 I for one would adore a writer’s cut of your latest blurb, or literally anything you’ve written so far that you have Thoughts on. I love me so writer’s cuts.
Writer’s cut for the sleepless nights at Botem! I couldn’t make a decision on which to do myself due to having thoughts all of the time, so I went for the latest post at the time!
When the members of Boatem can’t sleep, they end up at the Boatem hole.
The idea of Boatem sleepovers lives oh-so fondly in my heart. Where would they have it other than around their pet void?
At first it was him and Scar, and typically at each other’s starter bases. And then Last Life came and went and before they knew it, they had Impulse showing up at Grian’s, Pearl to Impulse’s, Mumbo to Scar’s, and they all eventually agreed it’d just be easier to end up at the hole. They’ve ended up at empty bases one too many times.
The notion of going to find someone for comfort after the death game that is Last Life only to find the base empty is a very traumatizing experience, maybe. The notion of going on a wild goose chase to find which base your buddies all ended up on, however, is a bit more amusing.
So far, tonight was just him. A lone bird in the grass.
I was thinking of Miraculous Ladybug, Chat Blanc and his little song about being a lonely cat on a roof. Good thing Grian won’t be alone for long!
The bloated moon glares down at him, but somehow, the world is peaceful.
I dabble a lot in art, and maybe it’s that part of me speaking but I positively love drenching things in moonlight. It’s prominent in my Scarian post-last life blurb, and it’s prominent here. There’s something about that midnight light that hits different.
He’s bundled up in the ever-growing Boatem blanket pile, staring into the void.
Boatem blanket pile! My favorite forms of affection especially in large groups of people is a dogpile. Lotta blankets, everyone’s just kind of lying on top of each other and relishing being in each others’ presences.
He doesn’t bet on being alone for long, and his suspicions are confirmed when a quiet meow reaches his ears.
Scar is never far behind his cat, and Jellie’s just curled up in his lap. Not even a minute goes by before he can hear the rhythmic tap of a cane.
No way I’m leaving Jellie out of this! My beloved!! Also, depending on the world, all of my Scars have different designs. Grians stay relatively the same but might have an extra detail or two.
“Why hello there, my dear Grian,” his friend greets before collapsing in a tired heap of Scar at his side.
“What’d you dream of this time?” Grian asks, bemused. The others were a bit shaky when it came to sharing, Mumbo in particular,
Mumbo’s plenty open! Just not to Grian, since, y’know, the mans killed him.
but it was Scar here alone, and they weren’t ones to keep a secret. Secrets. He’s got one secret that he’ll keep right here, and one day he’ll die.
Yeah, that’s a crush.
He shifts to fit them both under the blankets, Scar a line of welcome warmth along his side.
“You,” is the mumbled reply. “Still mostly you.”
A shiver runs up his back at how Scar’s breath fans over his neck, and he brushes it off with a laugh.
Kinda gay bro
“Seeing me’s not making them worse, is it?”
“Not seeing you’d make it worse.” Scar and Jellie somehow manage to coordinate the same quiet, content sigh, and Grian decides that he’ll simply die right this moment of their combined cuteness.
Pet owners and pets mimic each other. I’ve seen my friend do that, and I can confirm that it is very cute.
“What’d you dream about, G? What scenario keeps you from lady sleep’s welcoming embrace?” It was a familiar dance, made back when it was only them.
They sought out each other’s comfort after 3rd life. It was a little rocky at first, but like with every new thing in life you find a pattern. Their dreams would almost always have each other in it for obvious reasons, good or bad.
“You.” He rests his head on Scar’s. If he felt like being honest, which he rarely did, he’d say that he knew tonight would be quiet, and Scar was always up when Boatem got quiet.
Last life loneliness. Magical Mountain got pretty quiet and when it wasn’t, that meant trouble. That experience brews a certain concoction of emotions, none pleasant. So when it gets real quiet, sometimes Scar needs a reminder that he hasn’t been left alone again.
That tied back into him being up for Scar though, so he’s at least half-honest. It was better than dream after dream of beating his friend to death.
Grian seemed a lot more closed off during last life, and I do think killing Scar would’ve been carried with him even all this time later. Makes you wonder—oh shit I just got a new idea. Stay tuned for that I guess?
“It’s always us, huh?”
The moon’s close enough to trace her craters, and Grian finds himself doing just that. He reaches blindly, and Scar takes his hand without hesitation.
I’m telling y’all, there’s something about moonlight. The moon in general. There’s also something about hands, about reaching and someone taking it like they have their whole life.
“It’s always been us.”
It’s always been you.
This entire blurb was written to try and embody the phrase “Alone together.” It’s about knowing someone deep enough that you feel complete in their presence. It’s about saying ‘I love you’ in every little action you do and in every part of them you remember enough to keep with you.
Staying awake on quiet nights, knowing where you can find their hand to hold… romances for me aren’t all about loud declarations. They’re about the quiet moments, too. Ones that no one really wants to put on camera. Honestly, it’s a bit difficult for me to write because of how unconscious it is. But really.
There’s something about moonlight.
#i speak#writers cut#blurb#technically?#grian#gtws#goodtimeswithscar#gtwscar#hermitcraft#last life#last life smp#third life smp#desert duo#third life last life#third life last life fic#llshipping#hermitshipping#scarian#anon
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Ok so before we start it’s very important you should know these are the vibes I’m giving off and if I wasn’t typing my hands would be all over the place gesturing
So this is ramblely af and probably doesn’t make sense but who cares I have Thoughts
Ok so what colour are the watchers? Purple! What colour is the void? Black I guess but also purple! Ok watcher and void link confirmed you can all go home
Jk but listen, Martin’s new watcher lore said they were like eating the souls of the players or whatever, fun afternoon snack, and it’s been said a lot in fandom that the Boatem hole is feeding on their sacrifices. Feeding on their items, their XP, the occasional llama, but most importantly their souls
Grian and Pearl would probably be able to tell something’s familiar about it but they can’t put their finger on what, so they keep throwing themselves in to try and figure it out. All their idea of course, definitely no malicious outside force influencing their thoughts at all!
Alternatively if you like some good old fashioned villain!Pearl or even tricked into thinking her brother needed to return but slowly realising that the watchers are evil!Pearl you could have her be the one suggesting they jump into it to try and get Grian to remember how ‘good’ the watcher magic feels
I feel like once Pearl found out the watchers were the bad guys she’d immediately try to plug up the hole and get the others to leave it, but she wouldn’t want to reveal the truth because Grian would never trust her again (she thinks) and the others wouldn’t just go along with it without some answers
This ask is about watcher mission!Pearl now
I’m not sorry
So she’d get sent by the watchers to retrieve her brother and in this au he would have just snuck out in the middle of the night without leaving a not or anything, meaning the watchers got to tell the story, so Pearl fully believes that Grian’s been like kidnapped and brainwashed and stuff
So her original plan is to just grab him and get out but she can’t do that because of how many people are on the server and how protective they all are, she wouldn’t make it five meters
So she settles down by him, trying to come up with a way to convince him to come back with her, and then the boatem hole opens and it’s a great opportunity! The magic of the watchers will slowly fix him and then they can leave, right?
But slowly she makes friends, creates massive builds and pulls pranks with Gem, and she realises they maybe she hasn’t been told everything
One night, she asks Grian what really happened that night, and he tells her about how cruel the watchers are, what they do to players, and how he met someone who offered him refuge. He would have taken her with, he explains, but she had been fully indoctrinated and it was too big of a risk, it’s so lucky how she managed to realise for herself and meet up with him by chance!
Pearl is shocked and very guilty, she confesses everything. Grian is mad and feels incredibly betrayed at first, but he understands how hard it is to break free
They go to cover up the boatem hole so that no one else can fall in and head to bed, not noticing how big the moon is.
It’s too late.
The blocks are gone in the morning and the moon is getting closer and closer, causing earthquakes and disturbances in gravity
The watchers are coming.
I just basically wrote a hole (get it) ass fic outline in your inbox and I’m not even mad about it lmao
nacho please write this as an ao3 fic i am begging this needs to be written so bad
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16 and 23?
[Ask Game]
16. What’s an AU you would love to read (or have read and loved)?
Hmm...that's an interesting one.
Now I'm the kind of person who has read a vast number of fanfics in my time. If I think of an interesting AU I usually look it up right away to see if it's out there for me to read. (I think I've read every single story of quality in the Peter Parker's Field Trip to Stark Industries tag on Ao3 and beyond.) When it comes to Marvel, I'm a MASSIVE fan of the Iron Dad trope (Tony Stark either adopts Peter, is a father figure for him, or finds out he's legitimately the kid's dad somehow). In MCYT, I find myself gravitating toward Watcher!Grian stories, Hermit!TommyInnit fics (which is how I learned most of what I know about the DSMP), anything from Traffic Life, and basically any story that lays out all the different MCYT universes as being part of one greater universe where they all meet up for MCC once a month.
But in lieu of sharing new AU ideas (because I don't have many and I'd rather save them for my own stories ;3), I'm gonna toss two different fics your way that have absolutely blown me away. They're both angstier than my usual taste but they're both absolutely amazing.
Covet by Oceanbreeze7 | (WIP) Takes place in Boatem during Season 8 of Hermitcraft. An AU in which Grian was never found after Evo and Pearl was taken on as a new Hermit in Season 6 (iirc). They find a strange creature below the Boatem Hole who they dub "Scout"...but Scout isn't what he seems. Heartbreakingly beautiful.
The Take A Chance On Me series by Poppyflowerlesbian | (WIP but it's a MASSIVE BEAST of a story and four novels have been completed thus far) Begins during HC S8, crossover with the DSMP. Ranboo ends up on Hermitcraft during S8, and in the process of helping him get home (and changing the DSMP timeline for the better) they draw the attention of the Watchers. When the Boatem crew jumps into the Boatem Hole at the end of S8, Grian is taken by the Watchers and thrown into the Dream SMP...right before the founding of L'Manburg. He's forced to live through their story alongside them and can't reveal anything about the future. Martyn, Jimmy, and Mumbo are sent to join him at different points to keep an eye on him...and shit goes south REAL quick. (There's Mumscarian, TreeBark, and I think Flower Husbands in this, tons of angst, and a lot of reading. I stopped partway through because I wanted to watch the actual DSMP before continuing, but it's so so good. It's heavy though, so keep that in mind going in.)
23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?
Ohhh, now this one made me think. More often than not if there's a trope or AU I've been inspired by, I just - write it. Some may never leave my Google Docs but they're out there! That's not to say there aren't some I've never had a chance to try out!
I love reading Time Travel Fix-Its, but it's a genre I've never really tried my hand at myself. Part of that is because I'm a stickler for details and I know I'd have to keep track of a lot of things to make a time travel story work, and I'd want to do it right. Domino Effect comes close, but that's more like a Groundhog Day/time loop fic than actual time travel.
So...yeah. Time Travel Fix-It or even just Time Travel Shenanigans. It'd be a heck of a time. ^^
(Also gonna throw Soulmate AU out there, because even though I'm technically writing in the Double Life soulmate trope for There's Not a Word Yet, I've never written the whole discovering-who-your-soulmate-is thing. I'd love to try that out in the future!)
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