#and I was immediately like okay who the hell is Zedaph and what is this BASE

[minecraft-sideblog-tm]

Create Series Zedaph making his entire base a spinning cube contraption is the only natural evolution from his Hermitcraft season 7 cave of contraptions honestly

Also as I went to post this Keralis shows up and says “Zedaph, my british crumpet, what is this?” and idk I just felt obligated to include that

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Hey Vaunna, if you ever want to try and write something to make me cry, hit me up. Imma start making a list of things I’ve almost and actually cried over in fics-

Make me suffer, I dare you.

welp here we go! good luck everyone LOL

summary: Team ZIT face a blast from Zedaph's past

...

“I dunno about you but I think having only a set of coordinates sent to our communicators with no explanation is never a good thing,” says Tango, gazing around the clearing.

Impulse nods. “Agreed. Especially considering it’s been five minutes and… nobody’s here.”

As if on cue, someone walks out through the trees. The two jerk in surprise but relax when they register who it is.

“Oh, Zed, it’s you,” breathes Tango. “Why did you send us these coords?”

Zedaph doesn’t reply as he walks over to a tree on the edge of the clearing and pulls a lever.

Immediately, a glass box springs up from the ground and closes around the two.

“Hey!” Tango snaps, hitting the glass with his first. “What the hell are you doing, Zed?!”

“Tango?!” comes Zedaph’s voice from the opposite side of the clearing.

Tango and Impulse turn sharply to find… Zedaph running into the clearing.

After a stunned moment, they turn back. Zedaph is standing by the lever he just pulled, but he doesn’t look EXACTLY like Zedaph anymore. His eyes flash red, his hair more tousled and a slightly darker shade of blond.

“What’s happening here?!” Tango demands. “Why are there two of you? Who’s the real Zed?!”

“I am,” says the newcomer Zedaph immediately. “He’s…”

His face pales as he properly registers who’s standing on the other side of the clearing.

“I’m Helsaph,” the first Zedaph says. “Your dear Zedaph’s hels counterpart.”

“What’s going on?” asks Impulse nervously. “Why have you locked us in a glass box?”

“Oh, cuz I thought you might want to hear about what Zedaph did to me,” Helsaph responds aggressively.

Zedaph slowly moves forward towards Helsaph, but stops several blocks away. “I…”

“What the hell could Zed have possibly done to YOU?” Tango growls.

Helsaph jabs his finger at his counterpart. “You wanna tell them what you did or shall I?”

Zedaph’s mouth opens and closes uselessly for a few seconds, before he squeezes his eyes shut and looks away.

Helsaph turns to the two in the box. “Let me see if this jogs your memory of anything.”

He pulls out a pink item from his pocket and holds it up to his eyes.

Tango and Impulse freeze in horror.

“Look familiar?” says Helsaph challengingly. “Huh?”

Impulse stares helplessly at the helsmit. “I don’t… understand.”

Helsaph barks a laugh. “What, you don’t really think it was the real Zedaph under that mask, do you? Surely you don’t really think the mastermind behind the PR stunt that was Wormman would be out there risking his OWN neck?”

“Zed, what is he saying?” Tango demands.

“I recruited Helsaph to be Wormman and then I abandoned him in Season 5 when we moved on to the next world!” Zedaph bursts out suddenly.

Silence falls. Tango and Impulse exchange a look of horror.

“You didn’t know that, huh?” Helsaph taunts. “Guess your precious little best friend never told you that he’s not the moral angel you think he is.”

“Zed…” Impulse gazes at his friend in disappointment. “Why?”

Zedaph doesn’t answer. Instead, he murmurs, “There. I said it. Is that what you wanted, Helsaph?”

Helsaph grabs Zedaph by the collar and yanks him off the ground. “Is that it?! “Is that what you wanted?”?! YOU ABANDONED ME IN A GHOST WORLD FOR THREE YEARS!”

He tosses Zedaph away as if Zedaph weighed nothing. No sooner has Zedaph landed on the ground than he looks up to find Helsaph charging at him. He can’t react in time to stop Helsaph from slamming his boot into his stomach, yanking all the air from his lungs and causing him to dissolve into a fit of coughing.

“ZED!” Tango screeches, hitting the glass wall with all his strength. It starts to crack under his blows.

“You made me play the hero!” Helsaph yells at his counterpart. “You trained me and spent time with me and made me CARE about you and then you just tossed me aside like I was NOTHING to you! Do you have any idea how much it hurts to learn that the person you thought loved you actually didn’t give a DAMN about you?!”

“I…!” Zedaph’s voice fails and he hangs his head. “I’m… I’m sorry...”

“Oh, you’re SORRY?”

Helsaph grabs Zedaph by the throat and slams him against a tree, the pressure on Zedaph’s windpipe abruptly cutting off his breathing.

“You think SORRY is going to make up for what you did?!”

“Get off him!” screams Tango’s voice.

A second later, Tango himself barrels into Helsaph, knocking him to the ground and releasing his grip on Zedaph, who drops to his knees, gasping for breath.

Impulse appears at Zedaph’s side and envelopes him in a hug. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay, Zed.”

A little way off, Tango is kneeling on Helsaph’s back, keeping him pressed to the ground. As Helsaph struggles against Tango’s grip on his arms, he screams, “All I wanted was to be loved! ALL I WANTED WAS TO BE ACCEPTED!”

“Shut up!” Tango snarls at him.

“Tango, don’t hurt him!” pleads Zedaph hoarsely, his vision blurred. Weakly pushing Impulse away, he stumbles blindly towards the hazy figures of Helsaph and Tango. “Let him go!”

“Let him go?!” Tango echoes in disbelief. “HE TRIED TO KILL YOU!”

“Please, Tango! Let him go!”

Tango stares at Zedaph in disbelief for a moment, before huffing and releasing Helsaph, though he keeps a firm eye on the helsmit. “Fine.”

Helsaph slowly pushes himself to his knees, his eyes fixed on Zedaph. All his anger seems to have vanished, replaced by despair. “Why did you not want me anymore?” he cries. “W-Was I not good enough…? Did I do something wrong…?”

“No…! I never intended to hurt you.” Zedaph’s voice cracks with emotion. “This is all my fault. I should never have abandoned you, I… I was just so scared of what you might become that I never considered I could help you not become it. And instead… my worst fears came true, and it’s all my fault. Helsaph, I’m so sorry.”

Zedaph slowly moves forward and, kneeling down in front of Helsaph, brings him into a hug.

And after a few seconds, the dam breaks.

Tango and Impulse stand together a safe distance away, watching their best friend hug his crying Hels counterpart.

“All he ever wanted was a family,” says Impulse quietly. “People to care about him the way we care about Zed.”

Tango hesitates for a moment, then makes a decision. He joins Zedaph and Helsaph on the ground and wraps his arms around both of them. Impulse does the same on the other side, both he and Tango holding their Zedaphs tightly.

“I wanna be a hero again, Zedaph,” croaks Helsaph. “Have I messed it up?”

“No no, you haven’t messed anything up,” Zedaph says reassuringly. “If anything, I’M the one who messed everything up. Can you forgive me, Hels…?”

Helsaph sits back on his heels, regarding Zedaph with wary eyes. “But… But how do I know you won’t abandon me again if I stop being useful?”

Zedaph anxiously clasps his hands together. “I know you won’t trust me again for a long time, and that’s… that’s completely valid. But I… I refuse to judge your worth based on how “useful” you are again. From now on, you’re my brother and I’ll stick by you, no matter what.”

“B… Brother…?” repeats Helsaph shakily. “You mean…?”

“You’re part of the ZIT family now,” Impulse chuckles, tousling Helsaph’s hair. “Double Zedaph.”

Helsaph stares at Impulse with wide eyes. “I… Why would you want me here after everything I did…?”

“Because Zed made some mistakes and he’s my friend so I want to help him fix them,” Impulse replies kindly. “Right, Tango?”

Tango nods back. “Absolutely. Plus, I mean, you can never have too much Zedaph, know what I mean?”

Sensing that Helsaph is about to cry again, Zedaph quickly steps in and says, “You know, Hels, you actually arrived at a great time. We could do with a hero right now. You remember Evil X?”

Helsaph nods, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “Very well.”

“They’re back on the server causing a bit of mischief, running a scheme that’s definitely a scam. The server could use a hero to keep an eye on them and make sure they don’t do anything evil.” Zedaph grins. “What do you think? You up to the challenge?”

“I…” Helsaph hesitates. “I’m out of practise.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” says Tango. “We’ll help ya.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna train you back up into the best superhero on the server,” Impulse adds happily.

Zedaph hands Helsaph the pink mask the latter dropped earlier. “Welcome back, Wormman,” he says softly.

After a moment, Helsaph takes the mask and puts it on.

And with this action, Helsaph’s road to recovery, surrounded by his brand new family, begins.

[hmshermitcraft]

Duality AU, part 7! (Its a pleasure to be back!)

[No Eyes - Mixed POVs]

~Intro~

After a few months of practicing and pining hell, Mumbo has about 60% mastered the duality effect. They have love and support from their family and the rest of the Petals, (which now includes Zloy, Pix, and Keralis! ✨yay✨, Mumbo has MORE crushes and is now even deeper in pining hell), and now it's time to celebrate! Everyone is down in the hub, and having an official party.

~Tango

Tango, who thankfully brought the drinks and is in charge of speeches, finishes his make out with Grian and Zedaph and goes to see his friend Mumbo. He sees it shaking and playing with flowers in their hands, and immediately gets Bdubs, Keralis and Scar to help them out.

~Keralis

"Bumbo, What's wrong? You know that we're right here for you when you need us, right?"

Mumbo nodded his head, still fidgeting with the flowers.

"Then what's the problem? Tango was worried about you, that's why he called us over here." At this point, Bdubs and Scar work together to find the Grian and the rest of the Petals. He notices the flowers in Mumbo's hand. "Buttercups! Those are my favorite type of flowers! May I please have one?" Mumbo nodded their head, Before realizing that Keralis couldn't. "∴ᔑ╎ℸ ̣ !" It shouts with much more force than it meant to. "sorry Keralis, I meant wait. These flowers can't come off unless I pull them off. I grew them myself."

Keralis waited a moment, then responded. "Okay, Bumbo. Just as long as it doesn't hurt. But besides that, why are you hiding here?"

"Let me get you that buttercup, Then I'll tell you." Fae passes over the flower.

"I was nervous."

~NPG

Just then, Bdubs, Scar, Iskall and NPG walked in with a blanket and a few cups of tea, to help cheer Mumbo up. "How are you holding up, Mumbo?" Mumbo shrugged, fixing up fae's sleeve (And being flustered bc Scar was Too Close to them). "I'm doing fine now, thanks to you all. still a bit nervous, but nothing I can't handle." Right after they said that, a few Alliums sprouted on Mumbo's hand. They gave NPG flowers, and each of the others their (I guess assigned?) flower as well, then rushed out of that side room and rejoining the party, NPG quickly following.

~Evil Hermits (that are part of the petals)

Ex, Six, and Hels were in ANOTHER flirting battle, and Six sees Mumbo twirl into a dress and sit down. (It's like one of those cartoony things where they spin into their superhero outfits, that sort of thing)

"Pause the music!" The jazzy music that they battle to slows to a stop, and All three of them huddle to discuss a plan.

-smol time skip, like 10 minutes later-

Now joined by X (who was promised xe wouldn't do any flirting xemself,) Keralis, Iskall and Joe, they have a solid plan. X changes into the planned suit and tie, walks over to the most empty part of the room, and grabs a spare mic and 3 beanbag chairs. Xe waits for the others to give the signal that they're ready, places the beanbags in the center of the little area, stands next to them, and taps the microphone.

"Would MumboJumbo, Pixlriffs, and ZloyXP come to this area of the room and sit in these beanbag chairs?"

All three mentioned people sit, thinking the same thing:

This is gonna get weird.

[I'm gonna put this cliffhanger here lol. There are only 2 parts left :)]

~ Doodle

And it did get weird, though not in the way they expected

[boatemhole]

crossfire | a hermitcraft x dreamsmp crossover

ohhh boy oh boy. remember that hc x dsmp crossover i was talking about a while back? the one with ranboo and zed? well, i finally finished writing it! i can be found here on wattpad, or if you don’t have it you can read it under the cut :D

this is actually more hermitcraft-centered than dsmp, so heads-up for that. i don’t watch too much dsmp so i tried to keep it as vague as possible for ranboo’s parts. i had a lot of help from my friends on that bit

word count: 2115 tws: swearing, mentions of wars

Ranboo wasn't sure where he was, but it definitely wasn't the Dream SMP.

The place he found himself in had buildings that seemed to stretch upwards forever. There was no consistency in the block palettes; each build had its own distinct style. Some were larger than the others--one build that looked like a town hall seemed to overlook the rest of the builds. Ranboo could even see more buildings that were in the background and seemed to have their own islands.

What was this place? Was this someone's base? It was huge. It seemed to go on forever.

For some reason, the grass hadn't spread around the island completely yet. He noticed some large patches of dirt that looked freshly dugout. Little sprouts of grass had started to grow, but it hadn't completely covered the dirt yet.

As Ranboo wandered the area, he heard a small moo. Turning around, he saw a lone mooshroom, its red and white hide looking out of place among the green grass. He vaguely remembered that mooshrooms are supposed to be in mycelium islands, not regular ones like this.

How did this one get here, then? Poor thing.

Had this place been a mushroom island before? It would explain the still-spreading grass. Whoever owned this place must have put in so much time and effort here between the builds and the replaced mycelium. It was incredible. The look of this place was chaotic--so many different styles crammed together--but, at the same time, there was a certain harmony it had.

Ranboo slowly walked up to the mooshroom as to not scare it. When the cow approached him, he held out a hand and petted it a bit, feeling surprising sympathy for the animal. It was taken out of its natural habit and was alone now.

Kind of how he had found himself here, in this place he had no idea how to navigate.

As he petted the mooshroom, he thought he heard a firework sound off in the background. When he looked around, though, there was nothing.

Oh, yeah. Where were all the people? Where was the person that built this place?

Then, he looked up and saw someone flying above him.

Flying...?

Ranboo didn't recognize the grayish-purple wings strapped onto the man's back. They looked light, but they managed to catch the wind so the person who had the wings strapped to them glided around easily. Instead of feathers, these wings had a more silky, transparent look to them. There were only two main parts of the set, and they functioned pretty simply. The two parts just expanded whenever the person was in flight.

The person noticed Ranboo, too, and he landed on the ground. It wasn't anyone Ranboo recognized. They had light blonde hair, violet eyes, and a brown tunic. He was wearing diamond armor--no netherite. And instead of a chestplate, he was wearing those wings.

From the look on his face, he didn't recognize Ranboo, either.

The guy gave Ranboo that confused once-over, like he wasn't sure who--or what--he was looking at. He must have looked very odd compared to the other person's attire.

"Um...how did you get here?" he said after a moment. "I, uh, haven't seen you around before."

Ranboo sighed inwardly. "Honestly, I don't even know myself."

He reached into his inventory for his memory book, but after a few moments of digging around for it...he didn't find it. He opened his backpack all the way to look for it, but it wasn't there.

He started to panic a bit. He didn't like going anywhere without his memory book--he tended to forget things a lot, and he wrote them down in his book so he didn't forget. Without it, he constantly forgot important things...like how he'd gotten here.

...Shit.

The other person noticed his panic and hurriedly gave him a "calm-down" gesture. "Hey, don't worry about it," he said quickly. "I'm sure there's a reason why you're here."

"I'm Zedaph, by the way," he added as an afterthought. "You can call me Zed. For now, why don't I take you to Xisuma? He might know something about all this."

Zedaph? Xisuma? Who the hell were these people?

"Listen, I don't think I'm supposed to be here--" Ranboo said, looking around as if he could somehow find an exit out of this place. "I'm part of a different SMP, not...whatever this one is. I don't even know what this place is--I belong to the Dream SMP."

Zed paused as something occurred to him. "Wait--hold on, you're a part of the Dream SMP?"

Ranboo was a bit confused at Zed's sudden curiosity. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

Zed leaned against a shop's storefront, petting the mooshroom Ranboo found earlier idly. "What is it like?"

Ranboo was really confused now. Zed had changed topics at the speed of light. "Uh, what is what like?"

"The Dream SMP."

When Ranboo raised an eyebrow, Zed continued.

"Well, we've heard some things about that SMP. It's kind of infamous. Big reputation. I don't really know how to explain this, but uh...we've heard that conflicts on that server are more...major?" His voice went up an octave. "More serious? Than other SMPs, at least."

"Oh, um. Yeah." Ranboo was careful choosing his words, knowing he was treading on a ground littered with landmines. "What about it?"

"Well, compared to a place like here--Hermitcraft--we have more, uh, lighthearted conflicts. Not entirely serious, you know?" Zed cleared his throat awkwardly and glanced to the side.

So this was Hermitcraft. Just like how Zed said the DSMP was well-known, people knew the Hermitcraft server well, too. Specifically their big, grindy builds. Ranboo should have known that's where he was. This place definitely did Hermitcraft justice.

Zed was still looking at him curiously. Ranboo knew he wasn't going to let this go until he said something about it--he seemed like that kind of person.

"Well, I'm probably not the best person to turn to for this kind of stuff," Ranboo started.

"Hey, you're the only DSMP member who's appeared in our server randomly," Zed joked with a little laugh. "You're my only source. You can probably say something ridiculous that would never happen here and I'd have to believe you."

"Okay. A place called L'Manburg was blown up three times by three different people at three different times." Ranboo put on his best deadpan face, though Zed probably couldn't see it behind his mask and sunglasses.

Zed stared at him for a count of five. "...You're not joking, are you?"

"Nope. Actually happened."

"Um...wow. Okay." Zed didn't seem to know what to do with that info. That kind of stuff was probably unheard of in a place like this. "H-how did that happen anyway? What prompts someone to blow up this place thrice? What did it do to deserve that?"

Ranboo went stiff. Zed had hit a sensitive spot. "Wars. Conflict in the server. So many sides taken, the SMP is split in half."

"And...what side are you on?" Zed asked softly.

"...None."

Zed leaned back, surprised by the answer. "Oh, um...can I ask why? If you're comfy saying it, of course."

"No, it's okay." Ranboo took a deep breath before continuing.

"I have this policy. 'Choose people, not sides.' Every conflict on this server has started out because of two conflicting beliefs. Then, people start taking the side of one belief. Then, it just...escalates from there. I don't choose a side because that's going to solve nothing. Instead, I choose people. Of course, I want all this conflict to be over.

"But it never stops."

He trailed off as he realized he'd started rambling. "Uh, crap, you probably didn't want to hear all that, though--I'm sorry--"

"No, no, it's okay," Zed said quickly. "It's just...y'see, on Hermitcraft, our wars are more...lighthearted. Not as serious. I've said this before. There's no real conflict, just servermates messing around with each other."

"I wish I could experience that kind of thing," Ranboo muttered. It made sense that a place like this didn't have a lot of real conflict. It was like a haven of some sort to Ranboo. A special place that was unachievable in his own server.

"...I can't imagine going to actual war when it's my friends who are on the opposing side," Zed continued. "I mean, sure, we've had wars before, but it's always lighthearted roleplay. We're not actually mad at each other, y'know?"

He was silent for a moment before adding on one last bit. "Though some...recent wars...have gotten a bit more out of hand."

"How about you?" Ranboo asked. "What side are you on for these wars?"

"Would you believe me if I said 'none', too?" Zed said with a smile.

"Wait...really?"

"Not for the reasons you are. It's just...not my thing. I don't usually get involved in big server events. I have my own projects I want to work on. Though I have these two friends—Tango and Impulse—who always get involved. And they always end up on opposite teams."

"What's that like after the war is over?"

"Weird. It didn't use to be like this, but there's this...lingering tension now. Like I said earlier, the wars are getting a bit more serious, and it takes me a while longer to break the ice again between 'em. It's not like immediately after the war things go back to normal. Not anymore."

Ranboo let out a small puff of laughter. "Seems like we each have our own problems, huh?"

"...Yeah. Seems like it."

Ranboo's smile faded, and he sighed. "I wish I could be a part of a really close server like this. It seems fun."

"What do you mean?"

"Well...let's just say I don't really have any close friends on the DSMP."

"...You don't?"

Ranboo instantly regretted oversharing with Zed. The reason why he never told people about this is that they tended to go "Oh, poor you"! and baby you afterward.

Why did he share this with Zed, anyway? Out of all the people he could have confessed to...why a Hermit? They had it easy over here. How could he understand? Why not talk to someone on the DSMP who could?

But...Zed continued to surprise him with what he said.

"If you want...I can be your first real friend."

Ranboo did a double-take. Out of all the things Zed had said—and some of them had seemed downright foreign to him—this is what surprised him the most. He didn't go "Poor thing! Do you want a hug?" or awkwardly change the subject...he listened. More importantly, he understood.

And that was something Ranboo wasn't used to.

He realized Zed was waiting for an answer, and he awkwardly cleared his throat. He couldn't say anything that could properly convey the...happiness he felt when Zed offered to be his friend. Yes, that was it. He didn't realize how lonely he'd felt before.

Even if he did have people he hung out with more on the DSMP, he never felt close to them. That wasn't something he felt with Zed. For whatever reason, in the short time he'd talked to him, Ranboo felt like he could relate to him. A lot. They had to deal with the same kind of problem, even if their conflicts were on opposite ends. They were two sides of the same coin.

"...Yeah," he said after a moment longer. "I'd like that."

Zed smiled a bit, and Ranboo did have to read too deep into it to know that he was thinking along the same lines as he was right now. He was that kind of person.

After a moment of silence, Zed cleared his throat. "Um. Though...you know you can't stay here forever. You have your own server, and the whitelist will kick you out sooner or later. You belong in the Dream SMP. Not here. As much as I'd like you to stay."

Ranboo laughed as a thought occurred to him. "It was never meant to be, huh?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"But--before the whitelist kicks you out, we should make the most of the time left. I don't know if I'll see you again, y'know? And I want to hear about everything in the DSMP."

Ranboo felt a smile grow on his face. Zed delivering bad news, then immediately following with a hopeful smile afterward was something he'd do. He was glad he met Zed today...even if it was under the weirdest circumstances he'd ever encountered. And he'd seen some pretty odd things.

"Yeah. C'mon, let's go find somewhere to sit." Zed got up from his sitting spot, brushed off the dirt, and gestured for Ranboo to follow him. "I'll tell you what's happening in my server, and you can tell me about yours!"

[player-tag]

another part to my hermit!tommy au. again, i have little knowledge of dsmp, and watch hermitcraft casually (i only watch 3-4 hermits) and finally, lowercase intended. so, enjoy!

part 1

__________________________

tommy was cautious, to say the least. grian was trying his best to get tommy to talk more, even if just a little. but tommy was barely budging.

the two had to walk all the way to "grian's" (zedaph's) base, and that took forever. grian wanted to use his wings and an elytra for tommy, but tommy didn't have one, and he was (for some reason) terrified of fireworks. grian tried to get him to say why, but tommy was quiet. he kept fidgeting with the smiley face mask on his face.

when they finally reached the base, tommy said, "this looks so familiar..." in a distant, far off voice. grian opened the now existent oak door (he had stolen the previous one) walked in, and tommy cautiously walked in, then immediately gasped.

”this doesn’t look familiar-“ he looked around the base in awe. he saw the levers that were placed right infront of the door, and immediately flicked all of them. he jumped back when they revealed different suits of armor, then smiled.

“that’s very poggers, did you make it?” tommy cautiously asked. he seemed a little more open with grian now, like a new kid at school that just moved and took some time to be able to get to know you.

”no, my friend zedaph did, it’s technically his base.” grian said casually, walking over to his ever expanding chest monster that zedaph will eventually have to deal with. tommy gave grian a strange look.

”you stole his base?!” he asked, obviously surprised. “i thought you were nice! how do you even steal a base?”

"i didn't steal it!" grian placed hand on his chest in fake offence,"how dare you!"

tommy didn't seem to catch the fake part, so he genuinely thought grian was mad at him. "shit, im sorry. did i make you mad? i'm so sorry, fuck, uh, please don't kill me!" tommy seemed genuinely scared, as he held his arms across his chest and stomach, shrinking his figure by a lot.

grian was taken aback by tommy's pleas.

"hey, i'm not actually mad, i was just joking," grian held a hand out to put on tommy's shoulder, but tommy immediately backed away. grian reracted his hand and, in a soft voice, said,"i'm not going to kill you, why would you think i'd do that?"

tommy breathed a sigh of relief, then shook his head.

"it's nothing."

grian was worried about him. he seemed so hurt and scared and anxious, and grian felt uncomfortable because he thought he didn't usually make people feel like that.

tommy regained his y'all figure and began exploring a bit more. he admired the terraforming grian had done to the base, and the different decorations. he also tested out every single redstone contraption. there was no stopping him, and grian didn't bother try. he was happy to see that tommy was sorta enjoying himself, even if he did jump back every time there was a loud sound...

grian clapped his hands together as a way to grab tommy's attention. tommy quickly looked up from the useless water bucket contraption he was fascinated by.

"i need to do some mining, and i thought we could do that together, since you need to get yourself some armor. i know you may be wary of me, and everyone else, i need you to know there are rules on this server, and i thought it best for the both of us for me to explain it while we're mining, what d'ya say?" grian tried to not make it seem like an order, but an offer. he really wanted to ask this kid (because he was pretty sure tommy wasn't too old) what the hell happened to him.

"okay..." tommy seemed hesitant, but gave in.

right, grian thought. time to find out who or what broke this guy so badly.

short one!! sorry i've been very busy n shit with school so yeah. part 3 is coming when i feel like it.

[ask-elementalhermitcraft]

When Hell Freezes Over

Reposted for formatting issues.

Genre - Frustration/Comfort (when it’s not angsty enough to be hurt/comfort) 2674 words I spent too much time on

Stress, Iskall, Ren, and Grian (aka, the god squad)

This had to be the worst day Stress has had in a long time.

Early in the morning, she filled a backpack full of water from around her fortress and froze it into solid ice. It was freezing cold against her spine, water seeping through her cardigan. With the cold water seizing up her muscles, she leaped through the nether portal in the basement of her fortress.

The effect was immediate as the purple haze cleared from her brain. Any water on her clothes evaporated quickly away, but the ice in her pack stayed frozen. She knew as long as she stayed away from any fire or warmth, she would be just fine, at least for a long while. The bag constantly sizzled as anything that melted off of the ice evaporated quickly, making her constantly look like she was on fire from a distance.

There were chests in the nether that lined the walls, filled with concrete and carpets and glass. End be damned if she couldn’t at least help a little with the nether hub, even if she wouldn’t be using it very often. She grabbed a few stacks of glass, slowly feeling the weight of her heavy bag push down her shoulders and started to ache.

She had gotten through three stacks of glass before she was starting to sweat much more than what was healthy. Her mouth was dry as a desert and she could feel bile in her throat. The ice was not working. She felt like she was going to throw up.

She dropped the bag of ice on the ground, hearing it sizzle as she sprinted towards the nearest portal. She felt light headed and dizzy. Her skin felt like it was melting.

Stress leaped through an unlabeled portal without checking where on the map she was, landing on the overworld with a thump as her chest made contact with the ground. She suddenly felt cold, but still massively dehydrated. She struggled to stand dizzy and nauseous.

“Stress?” a voice called from somewhere that she could make out with her mind in a haze. “Are you okay? How long were you in the nether?”

The voice was getting closer and she could hear footsteps on grass. She braced herself on the portal, feeling the cool obsidian glass on her fingertips that slowly froze at the touch again. She opened her eyes, not remembering when she closed them. Walking towards her was Grian. She sat in front of iTrade, the building towering her in her dizzy state.

“Stress, are you okay?” Grian asked, putting a hand on Stress’ shoulder.

“Um,” she muttered, her voice quieter than normal. “No? Don’t think so.”

“Sit down, don’t throw up,” he said quickly, making an attempt to guide her towards the ground.

She sat on the grass in front of the portal. There was still morning dew on the ground that soaked her. She quickly froze it over, not wanting to get her clothes wet. She heard Grian rush away to who knows where as she sat there. The only sound was the fluctuation of the portal.

Grian didn’t take too long to get back. By the time he did, Stress at her knees pulled up against her chest and the entire ground around her had covered up with a layer of frost that mad the gravel crunch under his feet as he ran back to her.

He crouched down next to her, the morning dew melting at his touch, and handed her a glass bottle of cold water. “Drink it slowly or you’ll throw it back up,” he told her.

Stress barely managed to control herself from drinking all of it at once. She nursed it slowly, her head was still light and was starting to ache, but she took that as a good sign. She slowly drank it down and eventually, Grian brought her a new bottle of water before telling her that he had to go work on something and that she shouldn’t overwork herself at all. She only gave a mute nod and continued to drink the cool water.

About thirty minutes after she left the nether, she felt much better than she had, the moisture in the air and the ice at her fingertips helping her more than she thought it would. She still had a headache that pushed against the back of her eyes and she was a bit dizzy when she first stood up but she was able to quickly take off with her elytra. She wondered if the wind felt bad with her, considering it only took one rocket to take off.

She felt incredibly frustrated. The ice was supposed to work. She’d tested it before for shorter periods of time and she never felt any effects. She wasn’t able to help more than the smallest fraction with the nether hub. She was at a loss. A loss of daylight and a loss of resources.

As she flew over the shopping district, she remembered that she was out of quartz and quickly landed in the central area of the stores, just at the foot of the pond of dead coral and just out of reach of Captain Etho.

She first checked the Grian’s shop, it was the closest. All bought out. She then checked Zedaph’s. Nothing left. Her headache was getting worse as she realized that she would have to find some other way to get quartz, and there was no way she was going back into the nether.

She grabbed a small device out from her pocket and started to type out.

StressMonster101: does anybody have quartz? I can pay.

She didn’t expect a response, so she went to take off back to her base. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she was in the hair, unable to grab anything from her pack. She felt a buzz in her pocket too, indicating that someone was all texting the device. She sighed and quickly landed somewhere in the medieval district. It was hard to see anything past the forest that surrounded her.

rendog: I have some quartz I could give you for 2 diamonds per stack.

Rendog: Not blocks.

StressMonster101: Thank you! Are you at your base?

rendog: At the village I’m working on.

Stress pursed her lips. She, firstly, didn’t know where that was and, secondly, didn’t know why Ren would think that she would.

StressMonster101: I don’t know where that is

rendog: Meet me in the shopping district

She gave out a slight sigh and took off again straight up. The rush of the air in her ears made her head pound and she squeezed her eyes shut as she ascended. She could just barely hear the faint sound of a firework going off as she broke the tree line and shot up into the sky. As she felt the cold air rush against her and throw her air back, she also heard a faint yelling in the distance. Unable to open her eyes against the wind, she turned down for a slow dive and opened her eyes once more.

She only got a fraction of a second to see a red and brown object speeding towards her and making an impact with her side, sending her and the object falling to the ground. Judging by the familiar screaming it also gave as they began to fall, the object that hit her was indeed Ren colliding with her midair.

Both of them tried to pull up, but the tug Stress felt on her shoulder strap that kept the Elytra on her made her quickly realize how quickly Ren and she had gotten tangled up in their wings. Looking down at the quickly approaching tree line, she also realized how quickly they were descending into the trees.

They weren’t very high off the ground in the first place, making their fall through the trees quick, but not as painful as it could have been. In the blink of an eye and the snap of a few tree branches, Stress found herself back on the forest floor, all the wind knocked out of her and her elytra still strapped securely on her back. She couldn’t say the same for Ren. There was groaning coming from a few feet higher in the trees and when Stress looked up, she could see her fellow hermit draped over a tree limb, missing both his elytra and his bag.

It took a few seconds for Stress to compose herself. Pushing herself off of the ground and trying to clear her head of the headache that was only growing. The ground was covered in frost already, some reaching up against the trunks of the trees around her like climbing vines. Her elytra felt much heavier due to the fact both Ren’s elytra and bag were attached to it. Slowly, she detached it from her back and untangled the items before readdressing the RenDog in the tree.

In her busy work, Ren head started to get up and was leaning against the trunk of the tree. The light around him was darker than it should have been like a shadow was cast over him that wasn’t actually there. He held his head in pain, along with his stomach where he had hit the tree branch.

“Are you alive?” Stress asked, still sitting on the grass inside of standing.

“Barely,” Ren joked, opening his eyes. He was quick to compose himself and jump down from the tree, barely wincing at the pain that shot up through his legs from the rough landing. “So, you needed some quartz?”

They both laughed the pain away, commencing a small and quick trade. Stress’ head still was splitting with pain, though, so the quicker that transaction could take place, the better. More than ever did she wish the railway was finished so she could take that inside of trying to fly back to her base without crashing into the side of buildings. Which is something that she did several times. She clipped against the corner of one of ConCorp’s farms and one of the icebergs around her and Iskall’s base. Eventually, though, she landed on the top of her base.

She decided that it would probably be best to sleep this headache away rather than do any work, lest the odd lighting of the lower tunnels send her head spiraling in pain more than it already was. She descended down to the basement, where most of her things still were as she hadn’t moved much of it since finishing most of the actual base.

As she reached the ground, she looked out on an entire mess of things. As usual, there were snow golems everywhere, but significantly less than normal as the nether portal was still open.

“Damn it!” she yelled in frustration, her headache peaking in pain. The frozen ground rippled and wavered, sending shock waves up the wall. Where the ripples concentrated, towering spikes of ice grew from the walls and floor and ceiling. It skewered golems, broke the portal, and threw chests onto their side.

She immediately felt an incoming call buzzing in her pocket. She quickly clicked the button on the side, sending the call to her earpiece. At first, all she heard was rushing water, the sound easing her head temporarily before a voice cut in.

“Hey, Stress,” Iskall said in a slightly nervous tone. It was very hard to hear him, he seemed to be underwater. “The surface of the water above my base has seemed to frozen over and I can’t get out.”

“Are you okay?” Stress asked quickly, her bad mood turning to panic that made the ice spikes shrink and twist into sharper, spindly shapes that curled into thorny vines. “I’m coming right over.”

“Hey, chill out,” he joked. “It’s super cold down here but I have a conduit. Calm down for a bit, I just wanted to see if you were alright.”

Stress sighed, her shoulders dropping in relief. She sat down on her bed and flopped backward. Her legs dangled off the side as she laid horizontal with her bed. She pulled a pillow over from the top of it and set it under her head, feeling almost immediate relief.

“I have a really bad headache and some of my snow golems wandered into the nether because I didn’t close the portal,” she complained. “I also wasn’t able to get enough quartz and almost passed out in the nether… It hasn’t been a great day.”

She heard ice breaking on the other end, making the pain in her head spike suddenly. She visibly winced, but the sound of water went away and the sound of the cold wind replaced it.

“That sounds like a horrible day!” Iskall sympathized, no longer muffled by water. “I’ll be over soon with soup and healing potions.”

Stress laughed and curly up in her bed, throwing a few blankets over herself. “I’m fine now, getting some rest,” she assured. “You don’t need to come over.”

“If you say so…” Iskall said, trailing off slightly. “Talk to you later, Stress.”

“See you later,” Stress said, hanging up as she drifted off into sleep.

Stress awoke to whispers and she thought she was going crazy. Her eyes snapped open to the cold, open area of her basement and quickly scanned over every inch of her base. Chests were still thrown to the side but the ice spikes that head grown from every available surface head melted into slightly risen ice humps that made the floor uneven and bumpy in some places. It hadn’t been the first time this had happened.

She sighed, calming down from her surprise of waking up. She laid back down, staring at the ceiling of her base and the imposing height above her. She saw wings flapping at the ceiling as she closed her eyes to go back to sleep.

Her eyes snapped open and she sat upright in bed, looking up towards the flapping wings. High above her head were three figures, trying poorly to blend into the dark ceiling. Flying up there was a Grian holding an Iskall and a Ren in hand. Iskall was shushing both Grian and Ren, who were whispering, a sound that echoed off of the walls of the basement without much effort.

“Quiet, quiet!” Iskall tried, exclaiming it a bit too loud.

“Guys, she clearly sees us,” Ren said.

Ren was the first to let go of Grian, gliding down on his own elytra and landing on top of the messy pile of chests that Stress was going to have to clean up. Grain flew down, bringing Iskall with him as they both landed on the semi-solid ground of ice.

“We brought soup!” Grian exclaimed, fishing a canister from his pack, along with a couple of bowls.

“And cookies!” Ren added, grabbing a small sack from his side bag.

“And quartz,” Iskall said, taking a shulker box out and setting it on the ground next to her.

Stress swung her legs out of bed, taking the blanket with her as she sat on its edge. She tapped twice on the shulker box and looked inside. Inside was 19 stacks of quartz slabs. Just what she needed to finish the tunnel.

The smile on her face was as bright as the sun. She threw her blanket off, the fabric landing in a pile at the foot of her bed. She leaped over the shulker box and threw herself at Grian and Iskall, who were the closest to her, being actually on the ground and not on a pile of chests. The hug was clunky, Grian and Iskall’s shoulders making hard contact and Stress hitting her forehead against Iskall’s ear, but her chest bubbled with happiness from everything that surrounded her.

“Awe, I don’t get a hug?” Ren asked, climbing down from the pile.

“Get in here you dunce!” Stress exclaimed, laughing along with Grian and Iskall.

So, maybe it wasn’t the worst day she’d ever had.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Writting request!

Hels!Impulse taking regular impulses place n stuffing him in like a closet or somethin-

N someone who's sus of him (maybe iskall?) Finds the real impulse.

Now to unmask the fake.

okay so a few quick things:

1) this ended up a LOT longer than i expected lol so i apologise for that, it’s over 2k words

2) i also didn’t entirely stick to every detail in the prompt because i had an idea i rly liked and i wanted to roll with it, so i’m rly sorry if it’s not as good as you were expecting

3) anyway i hope it’s good! it was a lot of fun to work on

...

  Impulse is working on the redstone of his pumpkin and melon farm in his base when he spots a shadow moving around right at the corner of his vision. Frowning, he leaves his task and heads out into the main part of the base, looking around. “Hello?” he calls cautiously. “Grian, if this is you again…”

  He gets no response. 

  Just as he starts to turn back, thinking he just imagined it, something slams into him and knocks him into the wall, stunning him. He looks sharply up to find…

  ...himself. 

  Impulse’s eyes widen. “Wh-Who are you?!”

  The new Impulse has his arms crossed and a malicious grin on his face. “My name is Impulstor. I’m your Hels counterpart. And I’m going to take over your life as my own.”

  “W-Wait, what?!” 

  Before Impulse can move, Impulstor seizes his lapels and drags him across the base. Impulse struggles as hard as he can but he’s still winded from being hit against the wall. 

  Impulstor takes him to one of the support pillars at the very edge of the base, which has a two by one block hole in it, left over from Grian’s secret base shenanigans a few weeks ago. Weakened, he’s unable to stop Impulstor from shoving him roughly through the gap. 

  Since the floor is a block lower than the bottom of the hole, Impulse’s foot slips and he falls heavily against the wall, hitting his head and stunning him even more. The space inside the pillar is only one block by one block, with two or three more blocks of space above his head, so as Impulse collapses, he’s forced into an uncomfortable sitting position. 

  Blinking back tears of pain and fear, Impulse tries sluggishly to escape but Impulstor bashes him on the head with his own pickaxe. 

  The last thing Impulse sees before he passes out is Impulstor blocking the gap with white concrete, trapping him in this prison.

…

  Zedaph flies over the shopping district and lands a little way off from Impulse and Tango, who are sitting on one of the benches outside town hall, chatting. As he approaches, the two look up and spot him. “Hey, Zed!” Tango calls, beaming. “Wanna join me and Impy hanging out?”

  “Yeah, sure! What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, I thought we might go give Decked Out a group run,” Tango says. “I’d have to fix things up a little bit but that shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. I think it’d be epic to go in as a team.”

  “Ooh, yeah!” Impulse grins. “I always loved that game. It terrifies me, but I loved it. Those ravagers, man. I’m always on the lookout for them and it’s terrifying with the heartbeat and everything.” 

  “That was the idea,” snickers Tango.

  “I know, I know. Doesn’t make it any less terrifying, though.” Impulse grins. “Going in as a group would be great! I’d really like to do that.”

  Zedaph involuntarily takes a step back. He doesn’t know what, but there’s something off about Impulse today. There’s something different, something he can’t quite put his finger on. He’s known Impulse a long time, but not as long as Tango, who doesn’t seem to share his doubts. Is he misreading the situation?

  “Yeah, me too!” Tango enthuses. “You up for it, Zed?”

  “Um, actually…” Zedaph forces a convincing cough and rubs his stomach. “I feel kinda sick all of a sudden. I think the flight over here churned my insides.”

  “Oh.” Tango frowns sympathetically. “You’d better rest, then.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I need to go home.”

  “No problem, man. Hope you feel better.”

  Zedaph slowly walks away, keeping up his charade in case the others are watching. Over his shoulder, he hears Impulse say something about his ice farm, then a few seconds later, the sound of rockets are heard as the two take off with their elytras. 

  He keeps going for about a minute longer, just in case, before deeming it safe and taking off with his rockets. His heart pounding, he shoots over to Impulse’s base and after crashing through the water curtain, lands neatly on the ground inside. “Impulse?” Zedaph calls, starting to rush through the pyramid base. “Impulse, are you here?”

  Zedaph’s voice awakens Impulse. Blinking against the throbbing in his head, he bashes his fist against the wall of the pillar as hard as he can. “Ze-Zedaph! ZED!”

  Following the sound of Impulse’s voice, Zedaph locates the pillar and slices a hole in it with his pickaxe. 

  To his horror, he finds Impulse squeezed inside the narrow gap, blood still dripping from the wound in his head. 

  “Oh my god…!”

  Zedaph drags Impulse out of the pillar and lets him lie flat on the ground for a moment while he tends to his wound. Impulse doesn’t even have the strength to wince at the stinging of antiseptic. 

  “Are you okay?” asks Zedaph quietly. “How long have you been stuck in there?”

  “A-A few hours at most, I don’t really know. What’s going on?”

  “Well, fake you is cosying up to Tango. I don’t think Tango suspects anything.”

  Impulse swallows back a pang of hurt. “Oh… I-I thought he knew me better than that…”

  “To be fair, whoever’s masquerading as you is really, really good,” says Zedaph slowly. “I hate to say this, but even I barely noticed.”

  “Really? What made you catch on?”

  Zedaph hesitates. “It was more of a gut feeling than solid evidence. I dunno, there was just something about the way he talked that seemed off. It didn’t seem like you. I thought either there was something wrong with you or it wasn’t you at all.”

  “And you came to the conclusion that an imposter posing as me was more likely than me having an off day?” chuckles Impulse weakly. 

  Zedaph matches his chuckle as he starts to wind a bandage around Impulse’s head. “Again, it was just a gut feeling.”

  “Well, your gut feeling was right. Now what do we do about Impulstor?”

  Zedaph immediately bursts out a laugh. “Impulstor!” 

  Impulse gives him a look.

  Zedaph clears his throat awkwardly. “S-Sorry. Anyway, we should go and save Tango from, uh… Impulstor.”

  “Shouldn’t that be easy?” remarks Impulse. “I mean, I’M me. He’s not.”

  “Man, you didn’t see the way he was with Tango. He has to be some kind of clone of you or something; there’s no way he’s just a guy who’s studied the way you behave. It’s not about us not knowing you well enough; it’s him knowing every mannerism, every quirk, every facial tick. If it wasn’t for my random gut feeling, I doubt we’d have noticed for a really long time.”

  Impulse’s worry increases. If Tango, someone he’s known for over a decade, couldn’t even tell the difference between him and the imposter, his clone could have the whole server fooled within hours. 

  “We have to get to him away from the other hermits,” Impulse says. “The longer this goes on, the harder it’ll be to convince them I’m the real Impulse. What were him and Tango doing when you left?”

  “I think they were taking a look at your ice farm,” responds Zedaph. 

  Impulse shoots bolt upright. “Oh no! I spent ages getting that farm the exact way I wanted; he better not ruin anything!”

  Zedaph grips him by the shoulders. “Hey, easy, man. You might have a concussion.”

  “I don’t care! Tango is in real danger and so is everything I’ve ever built! I’m going over to my ice farm right now and you can’t stop me.”

  Zedaph hesitates. He knows his friend well enough to know that he really can’t stop him. “Okay, then. I’ll come with you.”

…

  “-really like this pattern,” Tango is saying, looking down at the floor underneath the ice farm. “How’d you think of it?”

  “Oh, it just came to me,” says Impulstor. “Took me a while to turn all the powder to concrete.”

  “I bet. Nice farm, dude!”

  “Thanks!” 

  Impulstor watches Tango move over to the side of the farm and look down. Tango clearly suspects nothing; if he has any doubts, he’s doing an amazing job hiding them. But Impulstor isn’t worried. From his (no, not his. Impulse’s) memories of Tango, he should be fairly easy to take down if the need arises. 

  But what he doesn’t anticipate is his ruse falling apart so soon.

  “TANGO!”

  Tango jerks and snaps his head upwards to find two figures flying towards him. He blinks in shock; one of them is clearly Zedaph but the other… It can’t be…

  Impulstor lets out a very quiet growl, before rearranging his face into an expression of shock. “Wait a sec…”

  Impulse nearly falls over in his haste as he lands, him and Zedaph getting between Tango and Impulstor. 

  “What the hell is going on?!” Tango demands. “Why are there two Impulses?!”

  “He’s an imposter,” declares Impulse, jabbing a finger at Impulstor. “He’s a fake Impulse.”

  “No, HE’s the fake!” Impulstor snaps back. “I don’t know what’s going on here but I’m the real Impulse!”

  “Oh god, this is my worst nightmare,” Tango groans. “How are we supposed to know who the real one is?”

  “Look, ask me anything,” says Impulse. “I’ll answer any question you ask.”

  “What was your first build when you joined Hermitcraft?” Zedaph asks.

  “The witch huts in season three,” say both Impulse and Impulstor at the same time, causing the former to stare at the latter in shock. 

  “Who did you team up with to do the pirate ship prank in season six?” Tango asks slowly.

  “Ren and Doc,” both Impulses say, again at the same time. 

  “What did you call your season five base?” Zedaph says.

  Again, the answer comes simultaneously from both Impulse and Impulstor: “Atlantis.” 

  “Okay, stop, stop.” Tango waves his hands. “This is going nowhere. I don’t know HOW you two have the exact same memory but clearly, we’re not gonna make any progress this way.” 

  “Hey, Impulse.” Zedaph turns pointedly to the real Impulse. “How did you get that scar on your thigh?”

  “From an arrow wound during the season six civil war,” Impulse and Impulstor reply.

  A split second later, Impulse realises what his friend is doing. He lifts his shorts leg just enough for the small scar to become visible. “This one.”

  The other three turn to Impulstor, who realises he’s in trouble here. He may have Impulse’s memories but they don’t share a body. Impulstor remembers the exact moment Impulse got that injury but he wasn’t actually there. He didn’t live it; Impulse did. 

  “Impulse, if you’re the real one, show us the scar,” Tango says sternly. 

  Impulstor hesitates, his slightly narrowed eyes flickering from Tango to Impulse. 

  Suddenly, Impulstor takes off running, deliberately slamming into Tango as he does. Tango tumbles to the ground and slides right over the edge of the farm with a terrified yell. 

  Luckily, Zedaph reacts quickly and grabs his friend’s wrist. This stops Tango from falling long enough for Impulse to take hold of his friend’s other hand, and the two pull Tango back to safety. 

  “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” gasps Impulse. “You almost went over!” 

  Breathing heavily, Tango starts to speak but cuts himself off as he finally registers the bandage around Impulse’s head. “I-Impulse, did he hurt you?”

  “What?” Impulse frowns, before remembering his head injury, which is already mostly healed. “Oh, yeah. He ambushed me in my base and knocked me out and stuffed me in the hollow space in one of my pillars for like five hours or so.”

  “Oh my god...” Tango squeezes his eyes shut. “I-I’m so sorry…”

  “Wh-What?” Impulse stares at him. What for?”

  “For not realising he wasn’t you. I should have seen it; I can’t believe I was so blind.”

  Impulse blinks. “Oh, Tango, no. Please, please don’t feel guilty. It’s not your fault at all.”

  “But…” Tango’s eyes glisten with tears. “I… I’ve known you for at least ten years. Surely I…”

  “No,” says Impulse firmly. “Don’t blame yourself, Tango. Impulstor is… He’s me. Essentially.”

  “What do you mean, Impusle?” asks Zedaph quietly. 

  Impulse hesitates. “Impulstor is my Hels counterpart. He looks like me, talks like me, he has all my memories. Tango, nobody can really blame you for not noticing. Dude, I know I’m the real Impulse and even I did a double take. You know I’m not observant at all but that was taking it to a whole new level.”

  Tango gives a quiet laugh. “Yeah, you’re really not super observant. But still…”

  “And hey, at least we now have a fairly easy way to tell us apart,” Impulse adds. “He won’t be able to fool you two again. But the rest of the server needs to be warned and briefed on how to tell us apart. Will you help me do that, both of you?”

  “Of course I will,” says Zedaph immediately, putting his arm over Impulse’s shoulders. “We’re a team.”

  Tango meets Impulse’s gaze.

  Finally, he says, “I always knew you’d have an evil twin but I didn’t expect him to be LESS annoying than you.” 

  “Hey,” complains Impulse mildly. “Give me some credit for not trying to murder you.”

  Tango laughs and grabs his friend in a hug. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favourite Impulse.”

  Impulse hugs him back. “Good. Now, let’s find Xisuma and warn him about Impulstor.”

  Tango pulls sharply away from Impulse and stares at him. “Wait… Is that his NAME? Impulse plus imposter?”

  “Uh huh. Trust me, I didn’t choose it.”

  His friend bursts out laughing. “That’s GREAT! Oh my god. That sounds like something Zed would come up with.”

  “I know, right!” Zedaph laughs. 

  Impulse can’t help a laugh too. The tension and fear that’s been controlling him for the last few hours has mostly melted away now that his best friends are safe. Impulstor might still be out there but with a little luck, he won’t be able to fool the rest of the server the way he fooled Tango. He’s sure he’ll see Impulstor again, though. 

  But the real question is: how soon?

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Now that team ITS is playing Phasmophobia on stream (I mean they are when I am sending this) can we get ghost hunters team ZITS?! I'd love to see the full team of morons (affectionate) dealing with ghosts.

I love Team ZITS so much, they’re such morons (affectionate). Just a few notes for this one:

1) CW: swearing

2) This loosely takes place in Phasmophobia. Some details are different/altered to fit the story better

3) Also I would just like to clarify that even though they reference playing Among Us, all my fics are set in the fictional world. I will never write about the real people, only their Hermitcraft characters/personas. 

...

  “Okay, guys.” Impulse addresses his team in the back of their van, handing out pieces of equipment as he talks. “We’ve got a poltergeist living in this house right here. Our job is to get evidence and get the hell out before it kills us. Any questions?”

  Zedaph raises his hand. “Yes, what happens if it kills us?”

  “We die,” Tango says wryly. “Permanently. So don’t get killed.” 

  “I guarantee at least one of us isn’t getting outta here alive,” Skizzleman remarks. “And all the times we played Among Us is telling me it’s gonna be Tango.”

  Tango shoots him a scowl. “Hey!”

  “Well, if you really don’t wanna die first, find some kind of electrical room and send Impulse there,” snickers Skizzleman. 

  Impulse rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Skizz. Anyway, we only have one piece of equipment each so we gotta make sure we work together. Skizz, you’ve got the camera to take pictures of the ghost. Tango, you’ve got the EMF reader so you can gauge the strength of ghostly presences. Zed, you’ve got the temperature tracker so you can check when the rooms get freezing. Everyone understand?”

  “What have you got, exactly?” Skizzleman inquires.

  Impulse holds up the item in his hand. “A flashlight that doubles as a UV light. I’m the one who’s gonna go first into each room and probably get killed in, like, ten seconds.”

  “A true hero,” says Zedaph, nodding. 

  “And don’t forget that the instructions say that if the flashlight beam starts to blink, that means the ghost is hunting,” Tango adds. “We should stick close to you so we know when to panic.”

“Gotcha.”

  The team makes their way towards the dark, dilapidated house. 

  “Man, the only way this could be more stereotypically creepy is if it had cobwebs in the windows,” mutters Skizzleman. “I dunno about you guys but I have zero trouble believing a ghost lives here.”

  Impulse pauses outside the house, glancing back at his friends. “Okay, the name of the ghost is William Thomas. And it said in the instructions that saying a ghost’s name will anger it, so try not to do that.” 

  With that, the four creep into the house. 

  They tiptoe into the first room in the house, Impulse shining his flashlight hesitantly around to make sure they’re alone. He switches to the UV light but no fingerprints show up anywhere.

  “Hey, have you guys heard that song about Shia LaBeouf being a cannibal?” Zedaph asks out of the blue.

  His friends stare at him.

  “No I haven’t, and also, what the hell?” says Tango.

  “I’ve heard it,” Skizzleman says. “What made you think of it NOW of all times?”

  “I was just thinking about how the ghost might be a cannibal and eat our bodies when it kills us, and that made me think of that song and now it’s stuck in my head.” 

  A pause follows this.

  “Aaaaand now it’s stuck in mine too,” Skizzleman sighs. “Great. Thanks.”

  “The image of a ghost feasting on our corpses is stuck in MY head and now I don’t want to move,” Tango says. “So thanks for that, Zed.”

  Zedaph grins to himself. “Anytime.” 

  A tense pause follows this.

  BANG!

  Skizzleman screams. “AHHH, WHAT WAS THAT?!”

  Impulse, heart now racing, instinctively shines his light towards the source of the noise. “I think it came from upstairs! Tango, Skizz, go check it out!” 

  “Why me?!” yelps Skizzleman. 

  “Because you’ve got the camera! Now go!”

  Tango drags a protesting Skizzleman away towards the stairs. 

  “Okay, while they’re doing that, let’s start eliminating rooms as the epicentre,” says Impulse to his remaining friend. “Keep the temperature tracker up.”

  Zedaph nods. “Will do.”

  The two start exploring the downstairs rooms. The kitchen and dining room show no signs of paranormal activity but when they enter the living room, something changes.

  “I’m cold,” Zedaph whispers, the temperature tracker trembling slightly in his hand. “It says three degrees. Not quite freezing yet.”

  “Right, okay… Stay here and monitor the temperature, I’ll go check for handprints by the stairs.”

  He moves off into the hallway and shines the UV light around at the staircase. 

  Upstairs, Skizzleman is clutching the camera so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. “Oh my god, I hate this so much. I feel like I’m gonna have a damn heart attack.” 

  Ignoring him, Tango activates his walkie talkie. “Impulse, can you hear me?”

  “I hear you,” comes Impulse’s crackly voice. “Found anything?” 

  “Nothing yet. We’re just having a look around.”

  “Okay, good. Remember, saying the ghost’s name a lot will make it mad so if you want to aggravate it a bit to get evidence, do that. But make sure you don’t say it too much or it’ll REALLY get angry.”

  Tango nods. “Gotcha. Talk to you later.”

  He puts away the walkie talkie and turns to Skizzleman, who is staring around the dark room with fearful eyes. “H-Hello, Mr William Thomas? Or, uh… Bill? Can I call you Bill?”

  He gets no response from the ghost, so he tries again: “Hey William, do you play Minecraft?”

Tango stifles a laugh.

  A few seconds later, a heavy-looking lamp in the corner tips over and falls all on its own, nearly crushing Skizzleman. 

  Impulse glances sharply up as he hears Skizzleman scream. He immediately hears Tango’s loud voice reassuring him, so he forces himself to relax. Nothing bad is happening. His friends are okay, they’re just a little on-edge, like Impulse himself. He just needs to relax.

  Inhaling deeply, he takes out the plastic water bottle he brought with him. As he sips at the cool water, he hears Skizzleman’s voice yelling from the upstairs bedroom: “HEY BILL, FUCK OFF!”

  Tango’s voice shrieks back, “SKIZZ, DON’T PISS OFF THE GHOST WHO’S TRYING TO KILL US!”

  “IF HE’S TRYING TO KILL US ANYWAY THEN WHY CAN I NOT TELL HIM TO GO FUCK HIMSELF?”

  Impulse chokes on his water. 

  “Impulse, I think Skizz is freaking out,” says Zedaph, peering round the door. “And I’m starting to freak out too. The temperature went below zero, like, six times in a few minutes.”

  “Right, okay, that’s one piece of evidence collected,” Impulse says. “Two more to go, then we can get outta here.”

  As Zedaph opens his mouth to respond, they both hear a loud thumping noise and Skizzleman screaming. 

  His heart leaping into his throat, Impulse and Zedaph dash upstairs at top speed and both almost trip right over Skizzleman on the landing.

  “Skizz, what the hell?!” yelps Impulse.

  Lying face down on the carpet, Skizzleman is glad it’s dark so the others can’t tell how red his cheeks are. “I… tripped over my own feet.” 

  “Oh, I hate you so much.” Impulse hauls his best friend to his feet. “Please tell me you have some more evidence for me.”

  “I got a level 5 reading,” Tango says, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. 

  “Okay, good, that counts. We got freezing temperatures downstairs, so now we just gotta look for-.”

  He breaks off as an ominous noise sounds from downstairs.

  The group stare at each other in terror.

  “Please tell me that was just someone’s stomach,” Skizzleman groans. 

  Impulse’s flashlight beam starts blinking.

  “Run!” Impulse screeches.

  The four scatter.

  Skizzleman and Zedaph dash inside the bedroom and jump into the closet, both breathing hard. They fall silent, listening intently for any sounds outside the closet.

  A minute goes by. Then another. Then a few more.

  “So,” whispers Zedaph. “Come here often?”

  Skizzleman can’t help a quiet snicker, despite the situation. “No, I really don’t. What about you?”

  “Well, oddly enough, this isn’t my first time hiding from a ghost in a stranger’s wardrobe.”

  “That genuinely does not surprise me one bit.”

  Zedaph’s walkie talkie emits a sudden burst of static, giving the two a fright. “Zed, come in. Where are you guys?”

  Zedaph fumbles with the device and hurriedly whispers into it, “Impulse, I think the ghost is still nearby.”

  “Nope it’s not. It’s currently having a very intense staring contest with Tango, so we could do with your help right now.”

  Zedaph and Skizzleman exchange a look of horror.

  Downstairs, Tango has been backed into a corner, frozen with fear as he makes terrified eye contact with the gruesome poltergeist, who is less than three metres away from him. “Impy,” he whispers out the corner of his mouth. “Help me.”

  Impulse dithers by the door, itching to go help his best friend but unsure of exactly how to do that without getting one or both of them killed. 

  Zedaph and Skizzleman appear next to Impulse seconds later. “Can we distract the ghost in any way?” the former asks urgently, as Skizzleman takes a picture of the spirit. 

  Impulse hesitates. “I-I don’t know how we’d do that.” 

  “Well, we have to do something! We can’t just let it kill Tango!”

  The poltergeist moves jerkily to the side, causing Tango to let out a strangled cry and press his back harder against the wall. “Help!” 

  Reacting quickly, Skizzleman snatches the temperature tracker from Zedaph and tosses it at the ghost. It passes right through its body, nearly hitting Tango.

  “Hey, William fucking Thomas, stay the hell away from my buddy!” Skizz yells at it.

  “Dude!” Impulse yelps, as the poltergeist turns on them. “RUN!”

  The three scramble for the door.

  Tango, seeing his chance, dodges around the ghost and follows, almost tripping over at least twice as he does.

  Skizzleman again trips over his own feet on the concrete pathway, and since he’s at the front of the group, the other three promptly fall over him and end up in a heap on the ground, panting hard from fear and exertion. 

  “Oh my God,” gasps out Impulse. “Is everyone okay?”

  Zedaph sticks his thumb up. “Very much below average, thanks.” 

  “My heart is about to die but yeah, I’m fine,” Skizzleman breathes. “I’m gonna have nightmares about this for months.”

  “Months?!” Tango is lying sprawled on his back, his heart still pounding in his chest. “Dude, I’m never gonna sleep well again.”

  Impulse pushes himself into a sitting position and watches the ghost float around angrily in the front doorway. “Looks like he can’t leave the house. PLEASE tell me we got three pieces of evidence.”

  At the same time, all three of the others speak:

  “Temperature,” says Zedaph.

  “Photo,” says Skizzleman. 

  “EMF reading,” says Tango. 

  “Right, then.” Impulse gets to his feet and opens up the back of the van. “Let’s get going. We can process the evidence in the van.”

  Skizzleman is the next to stand up and come to the back of the van. Rubbing his chest, he raises an eyebrow at Impulse. “Dude, we are DEFINITELY stopping at Taco Bell on the way home. We DESERVE Taco Bell.”

  Impulse chuckles. “Oh, you’ll hear no argument from me there, dude.” 

  As Zedaph hops into the back of the van, he grins back at his friends. “Now that was what I call a Shia Surprise.” 

  Impulse frowns and starts to open his mouth but Skizzleman shakes his head. “Don’t even ask, bro.” 

  Finally, Tango hands the EMF reader to Impulse and wordlessly starts to head to the front of the van but Impulse stops him. “Tango, are you okay? I-I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more in there.”

  Tango slowly shakes his head. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m just a little shaken up, that’s all.” He gives a pale grin. “Just promise me that next time we get the urge to do something stupid with the paranormal that we’ll use a oujia board like normal people.”

  Impulse laughs. After that experience, he’s just happy his friends are all okay.

  “Deal.”