#grians nether bees

[peskybirdenjoyer]

and in a hazy day dream (our bodies marry the stream)

At first, Scar had almost missed the two of them, Mumbo and Grian laying in the wheat by the fishing doc. Despite how stark the deep reds and blacks of their clothes were, they were almost hidden by the tall, golden stalks, completely surrounded by the ever-growing fields.

It was clearly a serene sort of moment, with the two of them beside each other, the world around them so quiet that they were left with only the sound of the wind rushing through the tillers and the water brushing up to the shore. Scar couldn't help but wonder if he had ever heard the Hermitcraft so quiet; even in the middle of the night, he swore he could hear the buzz of elytra soaring past and the wooshing of portals opening and closing. Here and now, however, even the thrum of magic seemed to temper down into a gentle hum.

Mumbo and Grian seemed to be making the most of the quiet, spending their afternoon sunken into the sandy soil. If Scar squinted, he could've sworn that the two of them were swaying gently, as if following the patterns of the crop around them. Grian's hair seemed to slowly fade to the pale tint of wheat, one strand at a time, and the tips of Mumbo's fingers lengthened out into the flowers at the head of the tillers.

Scar shook his head, looking away to the water for a moment. His mind simply must've been playing tricks on him, merging the stocks of the wheat and the figures of his dear friends in his brain, confused by how the rows of crop obscured their forms. When he shifted his gaze back to their place in the field, the plant-like features of his friends were no more. Mumbo and Grian were there, looking as they always did, laying in the field once more...

Except the freckles that dotted Mumbo's face didn't quite look like freckles anymore. They were much brighter, with a slight scarlet glow, shimmering almost identically to the redstone dust that the man carried around in a small pouch. And Grian's nose had begun to gleam as well, angular as always but with the same form as a golden carrot, the type he always kept handy for a snack while building. When a grin grew across his face, seemingly full of content from the serene beauty of the day, it seemed that his teeth were made of nether quartz, gleaming as though all of the netherrack dust had been scrubbed away. And Mumbo's cheeks had grown rosy, with a sheen that made it appear as if the juice of a glistening melon had been brushed onto his skin.

Scar blinked, unsure if the glare of the sun had been messing with his vision, only to open his eyes and see that the forms of his friends had disappeared altogether, replaced with the forms of two ocelots, curled around each other as they lazed in the sun. Their speckled yellow coats practically melded together as they laid, hidden amongst the wheat.

Scar blinked, and was met with the figures of two bees, circling each other with wings aflutter. Another blink, and the form of a shulker was resting, with a chirping parrot perched upon his shell. Another blink, two sniffers were laid upon the soil, one with its head and beak resting on the other's back. Another blink, a goat with a frog sat on its head, right between its horns.

Scar blinked one final time, and there they were, the forms of two skeletons, bones all criss-crossed, looking as they had been decomposing for centuries, their stark white a strong contrast to the fields. They laid there, intertwined, utterly confused in where their own bones ended and the other's started. Clutched in their flesh-less hands were everything one could ever want, pouches of redstone dust and books full of architectural sketches and flint to light the nether portal and rockets to take off into flight and seed to feed the birds and-- beyond all else, above anything more-- each other's cold, dead hand.

Before his very eyes, Scar saw every item fade away, and he watched as the flesh and blood of his friends returned to their eternal selves, side by side, fingers intertwined, laying in the wheat field. There was no indication that they had noticed a thing, entirely undisturbed in their quiet afternoon by the water.

As if sensing his presence, Grian's eyes opened, and he leaned up, propmting Mumbo to follow his lead. In their half-reclined states, they looked over to Scar, standing on his own by the dock, eyes still firmly upon his friends. They grinned, bright as nether quartz, and their eyes shone with the all-encompassing type of adoration that made Scar feel as though he had never witnessed true love until he saw the way Mumbo and Grian directed it at every person, every mob, every book and flower and speck of redstone dust.

"Scar!" Grian called, and his voice sounded like bees buzzing and note blocks singing. "Come join us!"

Mumbo nodded, like tulips swaying or phantoms swooping, and made a beckoning motion that Scar could've sworn was controlling the wind.

Scar couldn't help the way his legs pulled him forwards, as weak as kelp to the whims of his two lovers. It was barely a journey before he found himself in the fields of wheat, traversing the stalks to reach them. He didn't need a clock to tell that it was even shorter until he was pulled down between them, cradled by the sides of Grian and Mumbo-- so full of love, so full of adoration, so full of care for their home, their friends, their entire world that they had become one with it.

In time, Scar wondered if he could become one with it too.

[summertideempire]

The Ultimate Secret Life BINGO

I made a Secret Life Bingo with 50 possible squares!

Example card:

To play, go to this link to generate a card to use for the rest of the Secret Life series. Tag me with your card, and let me know if you get a bingo!

Also, let me know if you have any suggestions for new possible spaces, and I'll add them! :)

Full list of possible spaces under the cut:

Free space

Jimmy dies first

Acronym alliance

Family-based alliance

Someone loses a life to a mob

Backstabber/secret agent

Return of Loner Joel

Wolf Army

Scar shows up with abs

Failed trap

Arson

Attempted monopoly

TNT minecart

Scar steals the enchanter

“Aha!”

Someone makes a tower

Beloved pet dies

Villagers near world border

Grian is involved in a teammate’s death

Someone dies to their own trap

Someone traps their own base

Cow-related violence

Scar scams somebody

Etho “Washed Up” Slab

Someone gives Bdubs a clock

A dangerous mob is released (warden, ravager, etc.)

“5am Pearl” is mentioned

“Scar NO!”

A plot twist is introduced

Cleo or Scott gets a divorce

Someone dies while actively doing their secret task

Flashbacks to a previous season

A player accidentally kills another player

Someone crafts a jukebox

Death via fall damage

GeminiSlay defeats someone in hand-to-hand combat

A grave is built

Skizz sacrifices himself

Red life is hired to kill someone

Someone dies in the nether

Inappropriate joke

A single trap kills multiple people

A trap works correctly and with the intended target

Fishing rod incident occurs

“HotGUy!”

A bit that is created for a secret task continues throughout the series

Alliance falls apart from secret task

Someone loses a life from failing a task

A bee kills or severely injures somebody

Someone doing their secret task makes someone else fail their secret task

Someone references Decked Out 2

[cannedcrow]

Arbitrary Darkness (HC Monster Hunter AU) Part VI

A/N: More Arbitrary Darkness to go with the art I've been doing!

Part V - AO3

~ please rb if you enjoy! ….〆(･ω･。) ~

TWs: blood, injury, death, the usual.

Grian let himself into the house, calling a greeting to Mumbo, though the house held no reply. Disappointment flooded Grian - Mumbo must've stayed late at work. He hung up his cloak, dumped his weapons on a table, wandered into the office and started a fire before going to brew tea. The apartment felt gloomy and lonely without Mumbo, and he finally realised how much he'd missed him. He readied a lazy meal of bread, cheese and chutney from the pantry before settling in front of the fire, polishing his knives though they hadn't had a chance to be bloodied. He'd lost the one he'd stabbed Doc with. Hope that hurt, bastard.

He smiled faintly, imagining Joel setting into his sickly meal of stewed ghast tentacles. He was, he reflected, at rather an impasse. Joel had been crystal clear about where he stood - Grian was only to live if he stayed out of it and posed no threat. He held a vicious resentment for being threatened out of doing his job, but how possible was it to stay out anyway? What if he was contracted to kill one specifically? He couldn't decline - or ignore, for that matter - a contract without drawing intense suspicion upon himself. The police would be no kinder than the monsters if they found out what he was. He was so lucky to have found solace in Mumbo.

He'd been living with Mumbo for only a month or so when he'd been found out, though they'd been friends years before that. Grian had come home one night bleeding heavily from a deep slash along his forearm, courtesy of a piglin that'd found it's way through an unlicensed nether portal. He'd dispatched the creature easily enough, but it only took a slip on the slick cobbles for the beast to get it's sword in. Judging by the amount of blood, it must've clipped a major artery.

"Christ, Grian -" Mumbo exclaimed upon seeing him, "I'll call a doctor. Lie down quick."

"No -" Grian had gasped desperately, "No doctor. I can do it. It's fine."

"You're bleeding out mate, I have to-"

"No," Grian growled, pushing past Mumbo to slump on the sofa and pull up his torn sleeve, wiping at the wound with a wet cloth, "Get the medical box, I can do it." He'd have to trust that the dim light was enough to let the greyish skin of his forearm go unnoticed.

Mumbo watched him, worry evident in his gaze, but did as Grian bid, retrieving the box and settling by the sofa.

Grian winced, wrapping a leather strap around his bicep as tightly as he could. He pulled out the necessary implements habitually, beginning to wipe antiseptic on the edges of the cut. He tried valiantly to thread a needle but his hands were shaking too much. He proffered it to Mumbo helplessly.

"I- I don't know how, Grian. Let me call a doctor."

"You have to," Grian gritted out, "It's curved - insert it outside the edge, draw it through deep inside, go through the inside of the other edge and out again. Tie it tightly and cut the thread before the next stitch."

Mumbo looked doubtful but did as he was bid as Grian slumped back, breathing heavily as his arm throbbed. Mumbo started to slide Grian's glove off and he grabbed at it.

Mumbo glared at him, "If you won't let me get a doctor, you have to let me try properly."

Grian gave up, watching his face as he revealed Grian's taloned hand. He stilled a moment, staring, but shook his head slightly and began to stitch, concentrating hard.

"I'm sorry," Grian breathed, closing his eyes.

That's the end of it all then, he'd thought.

Mumbo didn't reply, tying off the first stitch before starting another. Grian did his best to ignore the feeling of a thousand bees stinging him at once.

"What are you?"

It was a casual question, all things considered.

"Harpy," Grian replied dully.

Mumbo was quiet. Contemplating or scared?

He hissed as the needle grazed a vein, and Mumbo looked up, standing and walking away before returning with a healthy measure of brandy. "Should've thought before, sorry mate. It'll help."

Grian accepted, gulping down the spirit eagerly as Mumbo grinned.

He sighed heavily, returning the glass, "Are you going to turn me in then?"

Mumbo paused, putting the glass on the floor and disinfecting his hands before continuing his work thoughtfully.

"It's the obvious choice, innit? But, how many times have we stumbled home drunk together through a million dark alleys?" He drew another stitch closed carefully, "I'm not great with signals - hence the divorce - but you haven't tried to murder me yet. I don't really have any reason to think you're a danger. To me, anyway."

Grian pondered quietly.

"If I ever get found out, you knew nothing." It wasn't much better to be a human hiding a monster than a monster itself.

"Here's hoping you don't."

He'd explained his feelings on the matter entirely to Mumbo, his reasons for being the way he was, and Mumbo had trusted him, trusted him all this time. He still had an untidy scar along his forearm, and in a bizarre way, it symbolised their friendship.

He'd fallen asleep in front of the fire and was only awoken when Mumbo exclaimed in surprise at seeing him.

"Grian! Fuckin hell mate, you gave me a fright."

Grian yawned and stretched, "Well, that makes two of us."

He bounded to him and enveloped Mumbo in a tight hug, "I missed you. How've you been?"

Mumbo hugged him back warmly. "Forget me, what about you? Where the hell were you? I was so close to calling the police, but I thought your undercover thing was going longer than expected and you wouldn't want me to intervene."

"Well, the undercover thing didn't go too well," Grian admitted gingerly, "Frankly I ought to be dead. It was a complete trick, I should've seen it - they lured me in and did their best to kill me. Luckily, weaselling my way out of immediate death is something I'm quite good at."

He ran a weary hand through his hair, "God I have so much to tell you."

"Want a drink?" Mumbo offered, moving to the cabinet to retrieve a cocktail shaker.

"Please. Last thing I had was chorus fruit liquor."

"Chorus fruit? Why would anyone bother?" Mumbo sounded utterly bemused as he began to make a drink.

They had double sidecars as Grian told his story. Mumbo made for a good audience, contributing appropriately horrified expressions and odd sounds of surprise.

"So, that's where we are," Grian finished, rather anticlimactically.

"Makes my life feel a bit boring really," Mumbo said, "most exciting thing that happened to me was someone stealing my sandwich at work."

"Yeah, I get all the fun. Phantom bites and death threats, it's a ball." Grian replied drily, "Who stole your sandwich?"

"Nevermind that. We should call the police. You know everything you need to, and they can clear the place out."

"I can't, not yet," Grian replied, fidgeting with his glass, thinking uncomfortably about Impulse, "I just can't. They're dangerous and it's a big organisation. The cops will fuck it up and they'll regroup."

"What are you going to do then? Live in fear of monsters coming to our door to kill you?"

"I don't know!" Grian gritted, "I have to be smarter than them. I have a chance to get back in and earn their trust, I think. Joel seemed to think so, anyway. Guess that was an olive branch, in his weird way. It's the only chance to uproot it from the inside. I think ... there's so many there that can't hide in society, I think they have somewhere else they're hiding. Any scrap of information that gets out will draw them back to me."

He smiled wanly at Mumbo, "At least it'll make for a more interesting story for Papa K."

Mumbo shook his head wearily, "You're in real trouble G. They know what you are, too. I don't know if you'll ever be able to threaten them again without them bringing you down too."

"Right, that's the other issue. I was worried I didn't have enough."

Mumbo stood, loosening his tie, "We'll figure something out. Or die horribly. For now though, I've got to get to sleep - you probably ought to as well eh?"

"I'd like nothing better," Grian assented, taking their glasses to the kitchen.

"Oh, G?" Mumbo called.

"Mm?"

"I'm going for a drink tomorrow night with a coworker, you should come! You'd like her."

Grian returned to the office, smirking, "Coworker eh? You getting back out there?"

Mumbo rolled his eyes witheringly. "Try not to be so insufferable all the time. We're working on a story together, that's why I was late tonight."

"Sure, sure," Grian replied in smug complacency.

"Well done, I'm already regretting inviting you. Speaking of work though -" Mumbo opened the desk drawer and retrieved several envelopes, "-You have your own to catch up on. Without your demon buddy to sell to we've lost that particular side hustle."

He handed the letters to Grian and clapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm glad you're home, G. Night!"

Grian woke early and situated himself at his desk with a cup of tea to sort through his letters. He'd have to get a job done today - he hadn't gotten a payout since that zoglin, and putting down the equivalent of a rabid dog wasn't worth much. It was usually the police that contracted him, unless civilians cut through the middleman. It'd taken years to get to enough prominence for that. Zombie, demon, stray .. faun, by the sound of it... He didn't particularly feel like killing anything that could talk for the moment. One reported an enderman sighted near Threader's Alley. Couldn't keep the damn things out of the city. Grian held the paper thoughtfully. That'd do. Easy enough to deal with if you knew how, and they were scary enough to guarantee a good price. He folded the letter and began to pack his bag as Mumbo strolled in, pulling on a shirt haphazardly.

"You heading out? Bit early isn't it?"

"Sure," Grian mumbled around a large apple in his teeth. He removed it politely from his mouth to finish, "Gonna go snag an enderman or we won't have any drinking money for tonight. Those little alleys are usually dark enough for them."

"Good luck then," Mumbo agreed, "Don't get too slashed up, you might be a bit rusty."

"Rusty," Grian repeated with incredulity, "How dare you."

He slung his bag over his shoulder and opened the door, calling "Tea's in the pot - bye!"

He munched on his apple contentedly as he walked a few blocks to the alley in question. It was a sunny morning, warm, clear and decidedly delightful. He chucked the apple core away as he arrived at the entrance to a side street, checking his bag carefully and removing a tiny box.

Slipping down a few alleys brought him to Threader's alley, a particularly dark and dingy bootlace street where it might've been twilight for all the light available. He quickly set down the box and sequestered himself neatly behind a dumpster.

In a matter of minutes, the enderman appeared out of nowhere, it's ghastly, sucking scream echoing in the alley as it stared idiotically at the tiny box. Who are you trying to intimidate? In fairness, the thing could be called nothing less than intimidating - taller than two men but thinner and longer than any, hunched over with it's long, clawlike fingers hanging at its sides, jaw unhinged, freeing that ugly noise from between dripping, stringy teeth.

What is their deal with endermites? He drew his hunting blade and the delicate bottle of water, throwing it straight at the enderman before picking up his shield. It shattered, splashing the enderman liberally. It screeched even louder, turning its attention to its assailant as the tarry skin began to bubble and smoke, eaten away as though by acid. Grian mockingly met its inhuman lilac eyes as he dashed in, ducking under a swiping arm before swinging his knife clean through one of its legs. They were nightmarish, but ultimately pretty flimsy - a heavy blow from someone who knew how to deliver it could sever an enderman's limb. The trouble was their inhuman ability to cling onto life.

The enderman stumbled gracelessly, swiping again at Grian as he slipped out of range. Make it angry. He kept staring into the things eyes as it collapsed, unable to support itself on one leg. It began to claw it's labourous way along the cobbles towards him, and Grian knelt to lop off one long hand before it teleported behind him, as evidenced by a wet thump. He spun as a clawed hand went for his leg, tearing his leg out of reach before it could make contact and stomping hard on the brittle arm. Dark plum blood spattered across him as he walked around it, getting past those nasty teeth before planting a foot on its back and ramming his knife through its skull. The thing gurgled and spat as its furious scream gradually drowned in its blood. Grian hauled the body over, cutting carefully into its chest cavity to find the ender pearls. It was always cheaper to harvest his own when possible than to buy them at the rate alchemists wanted.

He examined his jumper before wiping them off in annoyance. It was slashed with black stains anyway and the stuff never washed out.

How many times has Mumbo told me to wear black when I do endermen?

He walked home from the police station, wondering vaguely what he'd do with the rest of the afternoon. Could do another job if it's not too hard - they'd only given him two stacks of diamonds for the enderman. But when he returned it was with a loaf of bread and some other groceries. You're welcome, Mumbo.

He returned the endermite to its little terrarium of endstone and chorus buds with its fellows and spent the afternoon committing himself to writing everything he'd learned about the Eighth Circle in a journal. He profiled each creature he'd met - Joel included - and all the information he'd gathered about them before returning to his letters to decide which job to tackle next.

[lunarblazes]

whoops my hand slipped again (ao3)

Pearl has mostly settled in, all things considered. Chromia is beautiful, full of flowers and wild bees (Scott tells her he's not allowed to tame them on behalf of a foreign princess of the Dawn), and she's been fine there. Another person stumbles into the city bounds after her, someone who introduces himself as Joe Hills. Pearl can tell he's like her when she squints; the air shimmers oddly around him in the same way it warps around her fingertips. She wonders if he feels like she does, but they don't talk about it. Not in front of Scott. Scott shows them their rooms in the inn. He takes them to another empire, the city in the sky.

There are more people like her, in Stratos. She's not sure of their names until they introduce themselves to Joel, the ruler and maybe-god of the shining city (Cub, Scar, and Grian), but, like Joe, they each have some strange air about them, particularly the one called Grian. None of the emperors seem to notice. It makes her a little uneasy (she's almost relieved when Grian topples off the clouds) but that's quickly wiped away by the sheer splendor of Stratos' temples. 

There is a temple to a grain goddess inside of Stratos. Pearl lingers in it for a while, examining the gardens planted inside. Despite all his blustering, Joel's kept them well, cultivated them exactly right. She doesn't know what metric she's using to compare, but she's right, she knows she is. Pearl asks Scott what the goddess' name was (this is a place of reminiscing, not of present honor; this goddess is at least dead to the man who made the temple, whether he's divine in his own right or not) and his face scrunches up in concentration. 

"Peril," he finally answers hesitantly, his accent shaping the word. 

Pearl stares around the temple again. The woman in the statue has no face, just a smooth slab of andesite stone, but the scythe she holds is sharp, huge enough to do real damage. Pearl knows that farming sickles are just dull enough to cut wheat. They shouldn't be used for fighting. What kind of a grain goddess is also a warrior? 

"Peril," Pearl repeats softly and ignores the way the light that's replaced her heart jolts in her chest as the sunlight drifts into the temple. "Interesting."

She forgets about it quickly enough, even when Grian and Scar join them again with elytra and she has to squint against the deja-vu that presses at the walls of her mind. Pearl's still floating, after all. Glowing. She's paying attention well enough, but she's not really processing the things she's seeing. She's a little afraid, deep down, that they might hurt her more if she thinks about any of this too hard.

Things get a little weird when they enter the Nether.

There is a man, which is unassuming enough. Pearl has seen many men in her life, actually, and this one seems both unfamiliar and unlike her, but that is also par for the course at this point. He's wearing light armor, a teal tunic, and sturdy brown boots over dark pants. He appears to be talking to two people, one she semi-recognizes and one she sort of doesn't. As he turns, she sees that there's a scar over one of his eyes. It pulls tight as his eyes widen.

Pearl stares at him, mouth downturned slightly in a confused frown. Maybe she was wrong? He might be someone like her, she might have just not seen it.

She squints at him, trying to see the warping she's come to associate with the people who call themselves hermits. Sure enough, the air starts to stretch under her scrutiny, but it's not what she's looking for. The hermits have an aura like pulled taffy. It moves and stretches and explores lazily, heavy and cold without any mass; Pearl can see the weight on their shoulders and often wonders if it shows on her own. She doesn't feel any heavier, any more burdened, though she supposes she wouldn't have anything to compare it to. This man's wrongness--it's thin, flowing like water. It sets in fast, coming to a rolling boil then flickering out of existence all within a few seconds of him laying eyes on her. Whoever this man is, he's not like them.

Pearl takes a cautious step back as the man surges forward.

"Santa Pearla?" he asks reverently.

"Who?" Pearl says, bewildered.

"You--you! You're the Saint of Sanctuary, la Madre de Girasoles," he insists, though his voice wavers slightly at the clear lack of recognition in her own. 

Pearl looks to Scott. She has no idea who that is or what those words mean. He shrugs.

"This is Sausage," Scott says, by way of explanation. "Protector of the empire of Sanctuary."

"No, no, she's the protector," Sausage insists, kneeling. "She's the source of our magic!"

"Mate, I'm a cleaning lady," Pearl says back. She blinks. This interdimensional memory stuff is getting weird--is she really a cleaning lady? The kneeling is also freaking her out. She knows that whoever she is, she's not supposed to be holy. 

"But--there are statues of you," Sausage says, uncertain. "And murals?"

Pearl shakes her head and helps him to his feet. "I don't know. I'm just Pearl."

"She came here through the Rift, Sausage," Scott says in a stage whisper. "I think she's just a cosplayer."

"Oh, I did come here through the Rift, didn't I?" Pearl says thoughtfully. "Good to know."

Scott gives her an odd look. Sausage stares out into the distance for a moment before blinking, looking anywhere but at her.

"She looks so much like her, Scott," Sausage murmurs.

"I know," Scott says, "but she's not from here."

"Right," Sausage says, and claps his hands. "Yes, okay! You're a visitor, here, we--we can arrange a tour in Sanctuary, for our new guests!"

The tour is nice, and there are a lot of hermits. She's decided they're called hermits now. It just seemed like the right thing; none of them have a home, after all, and it's only right that they take the name of a creature that must share. It's an agreement they all innately have, maybe, because suddenly the term just becomes commonplace. Pearl's still not sure if the emperors can see the warping, but they definitely feel it. There's a gathering of about ten hermits crowded around Sausage's chests, including the man she was uneasy around earlier (Grian, she thinks it was), and the air is practically crackling with the way it's being tugged at. Different currents, different directions, all of it flying in separate spheres of chaos. She watches as one of the rulers, a goblin dressed in layered blue, red, and gold, staggers back from the fray, clearly disoriented as he leans against a tree.

Pearl retires to Chromia's inn after that, her head slightly spinning. If she thinks too much about any of this, she might dissolve or burst at the seams. Joe is there, absentmindedly tapping his fingers on the banister of the balcony to his room. They stare at each other for a while, the ever-present warped air still twisting behind them, and Pearl resolves to take a good long nap.

Before she gets to her room, it occurs to her to ask Joe about it. That wouldn't require her thinking too hard, really, and surely would prevent any further crisis or brain twisting caused by thinking too hard. 

"Joe," Pearl asks, "are you okay?"

Joe doesn't turn around, but he sighs. "I mean, like, physically? Metaphysically? Dimensionally? Mentally? What flavor of okay are we talkin' here?"

"All of the above, probably."

"Metaphysically, I think I could be worse. My soul's probably fine. I don't think I have a way to tell, though, so that could be really wrong. Dimensionally--well, that's where the trouble starts, isn't it," Joe begins. "There're these mirage-type things--"

"Yeah," Pearl interrupts. "I think all the hermits have those."

"Is that what we are?" Joe says thoughtfully. "I like that name."

"Do I have it?"

Joe finally turns to look at her. He squints a little. "Yeah," he finally says, "I think it's--it's a little more obvious, actually. Kinda defined."

"Oh, lovely," Pearl says. "That means I'm the coolest and should be the leader."

Joe giggles. "Yeah, sure. Mentally, well, I got a little freaked out with so many people around, it was... not the best, but this inn is really quite nice, so I think I'm doin' a bit better. And physically my arm is broken."

"Joe!" Pearl yelps. "Why didn't you tell anyone? I'm sure they could have helped patch you up!"

"Well, it's--they were busy," Joe insists, "and I didn't want them to have to deal with it! They run kingdoms, Pearl, it's not like they have time to deal with--"

"It's a broken arm, Joe, how hard could it be to fix?" Pearl says. "C'mere, I can probably figure out how to set it."

"Ah. There seems to be a little bit of confusion here," Joe says. "Which is understandable. I didn't explain very well--that might be why nobody tried to help, actually, but--hm. Maybe this should have been in the metaphysical category, or the dimensional category."

Pearl stares at him, waiting for an elaboration. Joe stares back at her and does not offer any. 

"What's wrong with your arm, then?" Pearl prods.

"Well," Joe says. He takes his left arm--not the one he was messing with on the banister, Pearl notes--and tries to prop himself against the wall. By all accounts, the attempt should have worked because he was literally just touching the wall with his arm. It does not. Pearl watches as the warping snakes its way down his left arm, causing him to simply phase halfway into the wall. He sighs.

"Oh," Pearl says. "That sure is a new and interesting way to break your arm."

"Yeah," Joe says miserably.

A beat.

"I don't know how to fix that," Pearl says awkwardly.

"Me neither," Joe says. They're back to staring at each other again. Joe pulls his arm out of the wall.

"Well, goodnight?" Pearl says. 

"Yeah, g'night, Pearl," Joe says, remarkably amiably for the situation he's in, and goes back to staring out the window.

Pearl flops into her new Chromia bed, stares at the little toy sheriff that sits on her bedside table, and tries very hard not to think about anything until she falls asleep. 

There are sunflowers growing from her pillow when she wakes. Their faces mirror her own in position as the sun rises to the east. Pearl ignores them.

Girasoles--sunflowers.

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

Sage can you tell me about your Minecraft OC?

YES I CAN

ok so i said “character” cause we’re not really roleplaying we’re just fucking around, but it’s my minecraft world i can do what i want and also i’m incapable of being normal

since i’m an Mcyt Fan i was giving the three of us designs based on our mc skins and what’s happened on the world so far (Lore™️), i’ve been playing with one of grians mcc skins for some reason so that’s what the outfits based off of, and i made it more pink cause we all live in a cherry forest and everything is themed pink cause yeah

as i said before every is based off their skin + “lore”, so my little guy is a goat/demon thing cause i love the mc goats and own six of them plus a goat horn that i obnoxiously blow constantly, and the demon part is from my regular persona and my newfound obsession with the nether, and the ender pearl and arrow quiver are just cause i use a bow and the ender pearls a lot cause they’re fun 👍

i plan on drawing my friends (dew and noah) today but noah is a bird cause he built his house in a tree and dew called him a bird like 5 times, and dews a bee cause that’s what his mc skin is and i’m gonna make them Pink and there’s nothing they can do about it

um yeah that’s kinda it so far, because of adhd i’ve been going on that world by myself and now have 6 chests completely full of shit i got from the nether and the deep dark city or whatever it’s called and built an entire decorated nether portal for fun. i also have a bit of a hoarding problem so there’s that too and cause it’s minecraft i keep killing people for fun (we all have keep inventory on) so that’s half “character lore” and half just what i’m like as a person. beware if you ever play minecraft with me i suck /silly

so that’s the run down of my silly little guy ty for your time

[activate-shadow-of-the-window]

Horizon to Horizon AU Masterpost!

(And some Saints of Eyes and Ears AU too!)

*this is a work in progress, updates will occur sporadically as I find motivation in drawers and under my bed*

A guide to my fantasy worldbuilding alternate universe built around the Hermitcraft, Empires, Evolution, and Life Series SMPs.

Questions are always welcome, and my ask box is open!

The elevator pitch:

The sun rises, and the moon rises, and the sun sets, and the moon sets, all between the Four Horizons of the world. One to each cardinal direction, and each with it’s own continent: Equinox to the North, Solstice to the south. Sunrise to the East, Sunset to the West. Civilizations rule the Land of the Sunrise, the Birthplace of Day and Night. Empires rule the Land of the Sunset, the Resting Place of Day and Night. Hermits and Emperors make peace and war, trade and explore, live and die and make merry in this First Dimension. The Second, the Nether Below, and the Third, the End Above, are lands of danger ripe for discovery. The lands to the north and south, however… who knows what’s over there, leagues past the vanishing point of plain sight?

More in-depth stuff below the cut! Fair warning, ‘tis very long.

What is the Horizon to Horizon AU?

The Horizon to Horizon AU, or more simply Horizons AU, is an alternate universe fusion containing the characters within the Hermitcraft SMP, Empires SMP, and Evolution, or Evo SMP. It is a high-to-mid fantasy setting, with some sci-fi elements when it comes to redstone.

Fics set in this au, in-universe chronological order:

- Among the mountains of everlong, a story about the Stronghold War (3,451 words, unfinished, on hiatus)

- Cracking like a dry branch in a westward wind, a story about newcomers and old debts (24,980 words, finished!)

- A kindling, of sorts, fluff and banter and all that jazz (3,423 words, unfinished)

- Legend has it that the moss grows on the north side of the trees, or, 2023 Hermittober Chapters, a story about crime and conspiracy (12,875 words, finished but I haven’t uploaded them all yet)

- Give me back my heart, you wingless thing, a story about prophecies and past tragedies (25,025 words, unfinished, a good ways along, currently working on this one)

- We’ll sing a song of days gone by, a story about the forgotten history that ties Horizons to the Saints of Eyes and Ears (unpublished, hammering it out in private at the moment)

Who’s who in this universe?

Between the Horizons, there are two major groups: the Hermits of the Sunrise, and the Emperors of the Sunset. This AU was made during Season 9 of Hermitcraft and Season 2 of Empires, and more specifically was born from a question that came into my mind during the crossover event: What would happen if the Hermits were tasked with ruling nations, like Emperors?

The emperors are pretty much doing the same thing they usually do: ruling empires. But the hermits are split into two main camps: those active in the crossover, who I arbitrarily chose to rule their own civilizations (as having a civilization for each hermit would be… some nonsense), and those not active in the crossover, who live among the civilizations, but do not rule. A full list of Hermits and who they are in alphabetical order follows:

- BdoubleO: The Lord Bee Double Oh of the Moss Throne, moss-faerie, ruler of Livingstone

- cubfan135: The Sovereign Cub Fan Voidstars of the Red Rock Crown, half-vex infected with sculk, ruler of Climbing Spires

- Docm77: The King Doc Mk-77 of the Deepfang Crown, goat-folk-faerie, ruler of The Maw

- ethoslab: Wanderer and freelance redstone technomancer, ambiguous canine-folk

- FalseSymmetry: The Lady False Symmetry of the Darkwood Throne, human(?), ruler of Umbra

- GeminiTay: The Queen Gemini Taylor of the Crown of Needles, deer-faerie, ruler of Evergreen

- Grian: The Sitter Grian Sunset of the Dusk Throne, parrot-folk, ruler of Sunset Coast

- hypnotizd: Mercenary and eyes-for-hire, bat-folk

- impulseSV: The Emperor Impulse Esvee of the Emerald Throne, cat-folk, ruler of The Labyrinth

- iskall85: The Vice-Mayor Iskall Eighty Five, wolf-folk, second-in-command of Iceberg Metropolis

- iJevin: The Crown Prince Eye Jevin of the Clearwater Crown, thinking slime, ruler of The Watering Hole

- joehills: The Administrator Joe Hills of the Other Throne, just a guy, ruler of Elsewhere

- Keralis: The Mayor Keralis of the Blue Ice Crown, wolf-folk, ruler of Iceberg Metropolis

- MumboJumbo: Chief Engineer and Technomancer of Technicolor City, plant-faerie

- PearlescentMoon: The High Priestess of the Throne of Histories, llama-folk, ruler of Great Acacia

- rendog: The King Ren Dog of the Crown of Vines, wolf-folk, ruler of The Tangle

- Skizzleman: Official cross-ocean diplomat between the Hermit Civilizations and the Empires of the Sunset, parrot-folk

- Stressmonster: Wandering trader of information from the little creatures of the world, butterfly-fae

- TangoTek: The King Tango Tek of the Basalt Throne, third-blaze-third-stray-third-human, ruler of The Neverglades

- VintageBeef: Just your local neighborhood innkeeper, tavern-keeper, and quest giver, cow-folk

- Welsknight: Trusted knight and right hand man to Bee Double, human

- xisumavoid: The Commander X of the Dragon Crown, living void?, ruler of The Dragon’s Spine

- Zedaph: Freelance wandering inventor and mad scientist, half-sheep-half-chicken-folk

- ZombieCleo: The Duchess Cleo of the Everfrost Throne, zombie, ruler of Permafrost Springs

And the Emperors of the Sunset, too:

- fwhip: The Duke Fwhip of the Icicle Throne, polar-bear-folk, ruler of Glacier Way

- Jimmy Solidarity: The Trailblazer Jimmy of the Throne of Dust, horse-folk, ruler of Frontier

- Joey Graceffa: The Lord Protector of the Petal Crown, sniffer-folk, ruler of Paradise Mountain

- Katherine Elizabeth: The Maiden Queen Katherine Elizabeth of the Powder Snow Throne, human, ruler of Skytouch

- LDShadowLady: The Lady-Defender Lizzie Shadow-Lady of the Glowing Crown, firefly-faerie, ruler of The Waterways

- MythicalSausage: The Guardian-Emperor Mythical Sausage of the Underthrone, human, ruler of The Thicket

- Pixlriffs: The Emperor Pixl Rifra of the Verdant Crown, parrot-folk, ruler of The Emerald Lands

- Scott Smajor: The Emperor Scott S. Major of the Gilded Crown, half-husk, ruler of Solis

- SmallishBeans: The King Joel S. Beans of the Ivory Crown, goat-folk, ruler of Undermoon (an Emperor in this AU)

- Shubble: The Great Librarían Shubble Shade-Stander of the Copper Throne, fox-folk, ruler of Great Aurora

- TheOrionSound: The Marcher-Lord Oli Sounder of the Crown of Grasses, llama-folk, ruler of Cross-Country

Also kicking around are the members of the Evolution SMP, who are not hermits or emperors, most of whose characters are not entirely fleshed out as of writing. Their descriptions will be updated later, and all are parrot-folk:

- MiniMuka, technomancer

- InTheLittleWood, diplomat and brother to Grian

- Nettyplays

- bigbst4

- SalemsLady, Sensor Systems Operator

- Tomohawk

- systemzee

- Taurtis/Joeyish, Shrieker Systems Operator

And what is the Saints of Eyes and Ears AU?

The Saints of Eyes and Ears AU is… sort of its own thing, and sort of a part of Horizons. It is a retelling of the events of the Life Series SMP through a semi-historical, semi-legendary lens as the cosmology/history of a religion known as Livolutionism. It is mostly based on the history-legends of Christianity, more specifically Catholicism, as that religion is the one I am most familiar with.

The elevator pitch:

In the time before time, when the world was small and the gods were close, an endless line of descendants of descendants lived and died under a sky full of eyes. Saints and sinners, lovers and enemies, bitter rivals and soulbound comrades have lived a thousand lives beneath the watchful gaze of the angels above, and demons below. But what an angel or devil is up to interpretation, as are their opaque intentions.

This will probably get its own post later down the line.

Okay, what are those legends?

The events of the various installments of the life series are collected into various books, which are self-contained tales that each follow a specific Saint, the winner of that particular installment, and the world and people that grow and flourish and crumble and die around them. The books and their Saints are as follows:

- The Book of Thirds, surrounding the life of the Saint Grian of the Desert Sun and the Red Winter War

- The Book of Lasts, surrounding the life of the Saint Scott of the Endless Stars and the Trickery of the Boogymen

- The Book of Doubles, surrounding the life of the Saint Pearl of the Shadowed Moon and the Bonds of the Soulmates

- The Book of Limits, surrounding the life of the Saint Martyn of the Stained Mars and the Chaos of the Clock

- The Book of Secrets, surrounding the life of the Saint Scar of the Blooming Earth and the Keeper’s Whispered Words

- The Real Book, a disputed scripture, surrounding the life of the Saint Cleo of the Fading Comet and the Repeating Lives

[ep2nd]

If anyone is here from my Duo name series, welcome! I have officially over 100 for yall, so here they are. I'll tag some, just too many. Some have changed. These range from Dream smp, life series, Empires smp, Afterlife smp, Orgins smp, HBG, and so many more. Thank your for the support throughout this amazing adventure<3

Duo names!!

Part 10!!

Illumina And Scott- astro duo

Strawburry17 and Grey- gold duo

Sausage and Pearl- arena duo

Shubble and Sneeg- small duo

Katherine and Stress- flower duo

Joe Hills and Pix- death duo

Xisuma and False-leader duo

Joel and Philza- married duo

Pete and Quig- MCC duo

Lauren and Oli- ender duo

Pigical and iamasquidkid- hypixal duo

Minx and Bad-demon duo

Niki and Lizzy-cake duo

Scar and Tubbo-slushie duo

Techno and Pearl-blood duo

Boffy and Grey-psychopath duo

Jacksepticeye and Dan-OG duo

Grian and Tommy-war starter duo

Fwhip and Wilbur-salmon duo

Philza and Xisuma-dad duo

Sam and Mumbo-redstone duo

Sapnap and Tango-fire duo

Tapl and Fruit- fruit duo

Couriway and Joey- bitch duo

Scar and Scott- elf duo

Shubble and Ren-dog duo

Stress and Shubble-witch duo

Joe and Cleo-graveyard duo

Mumbo and Big B-shapeshifter duo

Boffy and Dream-Torture duo

Quackity and Pearl-duck duo

Grey and Techno-nether duo

Karl and CPK-traveler duo

Ranboo and Lauren-enderman duo

Ranboo and Oli-albino enderman duo

Beef and XB-sea monster duo

Lizzie and foolish-ocean duo

Illumina and Jimmy-hydro duo

XB and Foolish-sea duo

Jevin and Charlie-slime duo

Charlie and Joe-weird duo

Allyssa and Illumina-assassin duo

Bdubs and Keralis-time duo

Etho and Illumina-ninja duo

Pete and Phil-dadza duo

Lauren and Scott-worst duo

Pearl and Scott-tilly duo

Pearl and Grian-sky duo

Grian and Scott-admin duo

Grian and Jimmy-sun duo

Sneeg and Scott-night duo

Joey and Tommy-phoenix duo

Lizzie and Mika-sweet duo

Mika and Niki-baking duo

Zee and Mumbo- mustache duo

Hannah and Katherine-fairy duo

Puffy and Stress-mom duo

Phil and TFC-old duo

TFC and skeppy-ore duo

TFC and fwhip-rock duo

Gem and Xisuma-honey duo

Xisuma and tubbo-bee boys

Gem and wilbur-twin duo

Xisuma and Wels-hell duo

Lizzie and Illumina-shadow duo

Fruit and Dream-mask duo

PixL and Scar-sand duo

Shubble and fwhip-earth duo

Fwhip and Sausage-dragon Brothers

Fwhip and Gem-roseblings

Gem and Hannah-rose duo

Gem and Zedaph-plant duo

Illumina and Xornoth-Void duo

Xornoth and Bad-corruption duo

Xornoth and Illumina-Void duo

Xisuma and Scott-evil sibling duo

Scott and Sparklez-sparkle duo

Joey and Puffy-pirate duo

George and bdubs-sleep duo

PixL and False-copper duo

Pearl and Gem-shiny duo

Keralis and Sausage-wood duo

Cleo and Sausage-zombie duo

Xisuma and Joey-bone duo

Scott and Joe-jester duo

Impulse and Fwhip-undeground duo

Tango and Fwhip-wonky duo

Doc and Pix-robot duo

Scar and Pearl-collector duo

Doc and Fwhip-hog duo

Lizzie and Crumb-box head duo

Bdubs and Gem-dawn duo

Cub and Katherine-anime girl duo

Oli and sausage-orb duo

Pix and Gem-lore duo

Cub and iskall-ice cube duo

Pearl and False-double duo

False and Xornoth-introvert duo

Oli and Wilbur-theater duo

Grian and Dream-life duo

[soulsmadworld]

same vibe

[scrivenger-grimgar]

hey Mik! ( @give-grian-rights ) , heres a twist for your Blood God Grian AU:

Grian makes trips to the nether every 20-50-ish years; its his job to fix up nether fortresses and bastions, giving the blazes something to guard, keeping the skeletons’ old homes tidy and stable for them in their afterlife, and repairing damage to the piglins’ temples sustained after battles with ghasts. its his job as the current Nether Watcher, like its Philza’s job to keep the jungle temples traps operational, and Taurtis’ job to maintain the valuables in End Cities.

one day, during one of his sporadic visits to the Nether, maybe 470-ish years after Evo, he is amused to find a single strange tiny piglin child following him around. its adorable, the kid looks like he’s barely six years old, and he’s clumsily hobbling after Grian with scuffed iron boots clinking together and a golden helm falling over his eyes, several sizes too large. the kid has a golden sword, badly worn but still plenty deadly, hanging loosely in his grip as he tries to stealthily maneuver behind him.

it goes from cute to worrying when Grian leaves the area after fixing up the bastion, heading towards the next, with the kid still following him.

where is this child’s pack? Grian thinks, as the child follows him, step for step. he ignores it for now, starting his work, still feeling vaguely bemused that the piglins would carve a stylized portrait of his face onto the blackstone for him to find when he returned.

after two more bastions and much more walking, the child eventually does something other than tail him, though not what Grian expected; instead of returning from the direction he’d came, the kid ran at him surprisingly fast and swung his blade at him. Grian didn’t bother to dodge, swiftly turning and blocking the blade with one netherite clad arm. the blow is unexpectedly powerful but ultimately pointless, glancing off the black metal easily.

Grian smiles at the kid, voicing a soft, “not quite,” as the piglin child looks up at him with shock. and now that Grian’s looking right at the kid, he can tell that somethings not quite right; his skin is a bit too pale, hands a bit too dexterous, ears a bit too low, and eyes a bit too black.

this isn’t a normal piglin child, Grian realizes as he stares at the soft pink hair falling in tangles from underneath the helm, this is a player.

he hears a cry, a ghast, and doesn’t even try to look up before wrapping his grey webbed wings tightly around the child. the fire charge burns him, scorching the webbing a mottled speckled black, but it would’ve killed the kid, and he regrets nothing.

sweeping the kid behind him, he raises his [Dragon Bown], knocks an arrow, and sends it straight into the ghast’s eye. it squeals, crying and quivering, and Grian takes the time to grab the child and run.

thus is the story of how Grian accidentally adopts child!Technoblade. Phil wont stop laughing at how he just snatched a fucking child, and Taurtis is too busy giving said child End City leved armor because “he’s obviously a little killer in the making, mr. blood god” Domrao has to be called out of Watcher Retirement because Grian can only work part-time now that he’s raising a child, but eventually Grian gets to laugh at Philza when he gets a short note that only says: “cant work; busy with new kids -PM”

Taurtis, Grian, and Philza each have different kinds of wings!

Taurtis has white bee-like wings, good for hovering and maneuvering in the small halls and corridors of the End Cities. Can’t go very far all at once, but very fast!

Grian has speckled grey dragon wings, long hooked talons on all five digits so that he can easily cling to the walls of the nether. A perfect balance of agility and distance.

Philza has big black vulture wings, perfect for soaring long distances while using minimal energy. He has a hard time in tight spaces.

[mallowbees]

Grian yelling about bees in the nether tunnel (sorry I know this is very specific)

No you're good I watched that bit and like!! I don't know why they were there either but this poor man was so confused and baffled

[redwinterroses]

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

Enjoy!!

__________________

Hermitcraft could be very stressful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Scar, where are you taking us?”

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

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

“You literally just led me into a hole.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[redorich]

In the HermitCanyon au, How is my favorite Bee armored Admin doing? How long does it take for Xisuma to become.. aware of what is happening? For the first few sections it seemed like he was in a coma/unconscious. In the most recent bit Impulse tells Etho to get Xisuma, so at least theoretically he can now move, but how long has it taken him to get there, and where is he on the scale to full recovery? Are the other hermits keeping him safe with rabbit stew? (if they have rabbits that is...)

Part 2 of this.

Etho comes back twenty minutes later with a solemn look on his face. (At least, Puffy assumes. She can't actually see most of his face because of that mask of his.)

"X is in a bad way today," he says quietly. "I can take Puffy to him if you guys would like to stay here with Zedaph."

Impulse and Tango look nervously at each other. On one hand, they very much would like to stay with Zedaph, who is mostly healed but still very loopy and probably should not be moved. On the other hand, allowing Puffy deep into the Hermits' inner sanctum is a risk in and of itself, let alone with only one Hermit with her. Etho's a good fighter and a wily bastard, but Puffy is most certainly no slouch.

In the end, it comes down to trust. How much can they show Puffy before they can no longer trust that she won't snitch? How sure are they that she won't try to kill them all and steal their stuff?

"Tell Xisuma I said hi," Zedaph warbles from the bed in the corner of the room, out of any window's line of sight.

As Etho presses a button which removes a panel of the wall in a whir of piston noises, Puffy snorts out a little laugh. "I'll be sure to do that."

Tango nods subtly to Impulse. If Puffy brought Zedaph back to the canyon, saved him from a painful respawn, and didn't once ask for anything in return, then the Hermits can trust her at least this much.

Etho leads Puffy through a short hallway into a large circular room with a domed ceiling. The room is mostly quartz, though the walls are lined with sea lanterns and oak leaves. It’s beautiful. This place has been hiding under her feet this whole time?

“This is the Atrium,” Etho says, “or at least the main one. Come on, getting a mule will be more trouble than it’s worth if you’re not carrying anything.”

Puffy is speechless, utterly and profoundly, when Etho takes her through a tunnel on the opposite side of where she entered. It almost looks as though the tunnel here was carved by hand, then completely redone in dirt and grass and vines to give it a secretive, high fantasy look.

“Hey, Etho!” says a dark-haired man with a big smile as he comes trotting out of a branching hallway to the left. “Hey--” He catches sight of Puffy and his smile dissipates into panic. He shouts incoherently and dives back into the hallway he just exited.

“Hey Bdubs,” Etho greets impishly, then turns to Puffy. “Man, it’s like he saw a ghost or something. Maybe Mothman.”

Puffy bleats out a surprised laugh. Up ahead, she spots another Hermit lurking around the corner of the archway Etho is leading her toward.

“Etho,” says a tall blonde woman. “Cleo wants to talk to you about, er...” The blonde woman glances at Puffy. “Her thing,” she finishes lamely.

“Well, as you can see, I’m a bit busy at the moment. Would you mind telling Cleo so she doesn’t skin me alive?” Etho says sweetly.

The blonde woman snorts. “Face the music, Mothman. I’ll take care of Puffy from here. I assume you’re taking her to Xisuma?”

Etho wilts. Clearly, whoever this Cleo person is, she’s not someone to piss off. Puffy wonders what Etho did.

“See ya around,” Etho waves, somehow both cheery and morose at the same time, like a funeral for someone nobody liked. Puffy and the blonde woman watch him go.

“My name’s False, by the way,” the blonde woman says. “Thanks for the bandanna. Normally I’d be wearing it, but I just got back from beating up Iskall.”

The woman-- False-- laughs. Puffy is once again taken aback by the idea that the Hermits actually use the items that she makes for them. 

False takes off in a brisk walk toward the archway she’d come out of. Jumping a little bit at being torn from her thoughts, Puffy hurries to follow. It’s hard to keep up, since all Puffy wants to do is stare. She must be in the living quarters-- they let her in the living quarters?! Each door matches the high fantasy, underground sort of aesthetic, but a few doors are left open and each one is remarkably different on the inside. One room is built entirely out of red and white concrete, whereas another is Nether-themed with actual fire, and the room down the hall is entirely underwater!

One door is different. It’s got blue-purple banners along the frame, and when False opens the door for Puffy, she can see that the room is made of blackstone bricks. Maps of the Dream SMP line the wall, and in the center of the room there is a mildly ornate table made of warped wood.

At the end of the table in the back of the room, opposite the door, sits a trio. To the left, there is a plain-looking man with a beard and an “at” symbol on his shirt. He speaks in a Southern accent to a man on the right side of the table, who wears a red sweater and twirls a feather between his fingers like the cat that got the canary.

In between the two, at the head of the table, rests someone very unique. He’s obviously tall, that much is obvious even when he’s sitting down. He’s also got mesmerizing purple eyes which glow faintly against the dark of the blackstone. Puffy doesn’t know why, but she gets the feeling that they’re supposed to be glowing much brighter.

As taken by the man’s eyes as she is, Puffy doesn’t notice the non-invasive breathing tube the man also has (a cannula? She doesn’t know what it’s called, but that sounds right) until the man’s gaze falls upon her, still standing in the doorway next to False.

“Oh,” the man says. “You’re not supposed to be here. Welcome.”

False steps forward, breaking Puffy from her trance. “Puffy, this is Xisuma, Joe, and Grian. I’d introduce you to them as well, but... you know.”

“I don’t know-- oh,” Puffy says awkwardly, catching sight of the massive crochet blanket she’d made for the Hermit months ago, draped across Xisuma’s shoulders.

“Why are you here?” Grian asks with a tilted head. “No offense or anything, but I just lost a bet. I had three diamonds on Cub bringing you in here eventually-- he’s the one you usually meet at the barrel, you know.”

False interjects, “I didn’t bring her down here, it was Etho!”

“Shoot,” Joe says. “Cleo wins yet again.”

“It was Zedaph, actually,” Puffy says. All eyes turn to her. “I found him on the surface. He was really injured, so I brought him back here. Impulse and-- Tango? Yeah, Tango-- told Etho to take me down here.”

Puffy uncharacteristically twiddles her fingers a little bit, feeling in over her head. “Uh, you know I’m not gonna tell or anything, so... Why am I here?”

The full weight of Xisuma’s piercing stare falls upon her. Even as fragile as he looks, even as strong as Puffy is, she feels a jolt of apprehension.

“You’d know more about the red vines than we do,” he begins. “Etho mentioned that they’re what hurt Zedaph; he’s mentioned them on multiple occasions, and never in a good way. How long do you think it would take for those vines to reach our village, and what do you think would happen once they do?”

“As far as we’re aware, there are several players who are proponents of the vines, and claim they originate from some sort of egg?” Joe adds. “I’ve had a hard time calculating how big of a mushroom we’d need to make an omelet out of the egg, but apparently most of my fellow Hermits do not in fact want evil eggs on their omelets.”

“And how come the End is inaccessible?” Grian cuts in with a whine. “I want my elytra.”

Xisuma huffs a laugh into the cannula. “As you can see, we have many questions which only a native Dream SMP player like yourself can answer. In the interest of keeping ourselves safe--” he trails off into a coughing fit.

Puffy bites her lip, feeling as though she really shouldn’t be seeing this. Joe rests his hand on Xisuma’s back.

“You give us answers, and we’ll give you diamonds, netherite, whatever you want. And when we move out-- well, it wasn’t much of a secret anyway-- we’ll offer you a safe place with us,” Grian speaks up on Xisuma’s behalf.

A thousand thoughts spin inside Puffy’s head. She feels like Dorothy in that tornado, and Grian’s offer is the Wicked Witch. “Did you guys really save Tommy’s life?” she finds herself asking.

The Hermits seem taken aback.

“The blond kid?” False asks. “Yeah, but he was unconscious the whole time. I think Scar told the kid to keep us a secret, but... I don’t think any of us expected that to actually work.”

Puffy laughs disbelievingly. “He’s the one person on the entire server who keeps insisting that you guys aren’t real.”

“That’s good to hear,” Xisuma says quietly. “Do you have an answer for us, or would you like some time to consider?”

There are a thousand and one variables Puffy needs to think about. What is Dream’s stance on the Hermits? Who will she be setting herself against by allying with the Hermits? What will Puffy have to expect, from both underground and surface-dwelling players alike? Which players can she take in a fight?

Fuck it, she thinks. “You’ve got yourselves a deal.”

Xisuma smiles. Despite his ill condition, she gets the feeling that this nice, mild-mannered man is far more dangerous than she could ever hope to be.

“I’m glad to have you on our side, Puffy,” he says. “Thank you for your help.”

[jungledubs-archive]

xisuma with Bees. also hope y'all are having a good morning!! -ray

we're having a great day, thanks ray! i kind of went wildly off with this one so enjoy

Xisuma + "bees"

When Xisuma woke up that morning, there was a strange tingling on his forehead and back. He didn't think much of it, still drowsy, until he attempted to roll over onto his other side and check the time.

Was his bed always this... big?

No, Xisuma quickly realized, to his horror. The bed wasn't big. Neither was the alarm clock blaring its digits down in a too-bright red. He was the one that had changed. He was tiny.

Whatever magic that had made him small also seemed to have given him a pair of bug-like wings that flicked out from his back as he scrambled to his feet amongst the ocean-like covers of the bed. Handy, he thought, as he could see his elytra leaning against the wall and it was far too big for him now. All he had to do, of course, was find Joe and get him to use his admin powers to make him normal-sized again. It was likely that this was just a prank, maybe from Scar and Cub, but still. He didn't want to wait around for it to wear off--he had important things to do! He couldn't sit around being a-

A bee. He'd caught a glimpse of himself in the nearby mirror--a small figure on the edge of the bed--and he'd realized what he'd been half-turned into. A bee. This was definitely a prank, since he'd spent the last few months running around in a bee-themed outfit...

He wasn't sure why, but he had some hunch that Grian was behind this somehow.

But before he could confront whoever had transfigured him, he had to get changed back.

Xisuma looked down off of the sheer cliff that was the edge of his bed. He had wings. All he had to do was jump, and then fly out of there and find Joe. Simple. He'd flown with elytra thousands of times. This couldn't be any different.

And so he took a deep breath and leapt.

As it turned out, it was very different from flying with elytra. The basic principles were similar- but in practice? He'd never had to flap an elytra before. That was quite tiring, as it turned out. Flapping your wings to fly.

But he zipped out of his room and out into the main part of his tower. It was almost scary how large and bright things were. He swore nothing had been this saturated when he'd been normal-sized. Where even was Joe? His communicator had been too big; he'd left it behind. He'd just have to... fly to Joe's base and hope he was there.

That was further than Xisuma wanted to fly, small as he was, and there was no way he was travelling through the Nether like this. But he didn't have much of a choice.

Xisuma turned, and flew out of his base into the open air.

[fundy-chow]

So, I Made A Roleplay Blog

Hello! This, if you couldn’t tell, is a roleplay blog about Fundy’s character in the DSMP. It’s just a funky little thing I decided to do at 1 a.m one time, so the posts may not be 100% on point with his character’s personality. Also, due to school, replies may be delayed. Just a heads up!

MORE INFO UNDER THE CUT SO IT’S NOT WAY TOO LONG OF A POST

This blog is run by @a-midnight-crisis. Check it out before you interact with me, as it has all my rules and stuff. Please ask any questions like my updating schedule, recommending things, etc. over there! My pronouns, in case you’re wondering, are he/him, she/her, or they/them.

Also, this is sort of an AU. Kinda. The only changes are that Ranboo and Fundy made up at some point, and Fundy has a little cave he calls The Burrow. That’s it, nothing drastically different. Anything else that happens is explained, so for example, there won’t just be like, all the sudden ‘Fundy has a town and a bunch of friends’ just out of the blue. It would go through the process of him building up his town and stuff.

Here, Fundy is a fox hybrid. That means he has a tail, ears, and acts like a fox sometimes. His pronouns are he/him or they/them, but a preference for the former.

I roleplay with 13 (I think?) blogs at the moment. The list is below! I’m cool with double of the same character, so go ahead and send an ask whenever! When it comes to OCs, though, please message me some info about them!

TAGS #yips - in character posts!

#what does the fox say? - asks!

#anonymous - an anonymous asker! if an ask is not on anon, I’ll just put the URL. if you’re a fellow rp blog, the tags are below!

#reblogs - reblogs (just until I get creative again)

#ooc - out of character posts

#ghosty boi - Fundy's soul left his body. again.

#pick a side…pshh - @ranboo-kazzoo

#HELLO BIRD - @ask-the-grian

#WATCHY BOI - @ask-the-grian, but Xelqua 

#ram-domness - @jschllat

#absolute SILENCE - @the-silent-deer

#voices dance through the wind with memories alongside them (used to be you’re kinda a maniac) -  @smalliishbeanss

#no tag man - @c-connor-shennagains

#late night stargazing - @pearlescentmoonrp

#treetop mustaches - @askmumbojumbo

#the amazing wonderful canary - @soliidariity

#buzzing buzzing…BEES - @ask-tubbo-bee

#buzzing lightyear - @tubbs-o

#risen from the grave - @sycophanticsheetghost

#tiny cute little fur ball of madness (used to be aww! it’s the baby!) - @yogurt-soot

#big man! - @inniterstommy ANONS

#the nether blazes on - Blaze Anon

#tastes like fruit god - P.C Anon/@foreveer-waatchiing

#how's the weather up there? oh wait - Yellow Space Anon

[efoxkitty]

I am still not ready to cry about the latest episode, but have snippets of timelooping Skizz :)

Spoilers for LL week 4 (Skizz's episode)

"I'm going to die." he comments, as he observes the group following their queen. I tried to steal their table, we tried to steal their table last week. Anyone could be the boogeyman, no kills were done yet. Etho and Tango are still out there.

"You're not." Bdubs laughs and Skizz smiles back.

There are no guarantees in this world, never were, but he's okay with the consequences. So with one last look at his team mate, he jumps over the walls.

***

"I'm going to die." He proclaims in disbelief, as he watches the fairy army cross the path to spawn. Was it just a dream? Did I imagined it?

"You're not." Bdubs says gently, but this time, Skizz's unsure.

"If you say so." he says with a polite smile, as he crosses their walls.

***

"I'm going to die." He announces, as he watches Lizzie call for he knights.

"You're not." Bdubs shrugs him off, as Skizz looks up.

And you're going to die too today. He looks away and produces a smile "Of course, we're the B.E.S.T. Why would we die?" It's probably not funny to anyone but him, but he will take it for now. He walks over the snowy walls and doesn't look back.

***

"I'm going to die." He whispers sadly, as he watches BigB stumble after his teammates. He looks over the wall to Ren's place and thinks about the lever the ex-king will soon pull.

"You're not." Bdubs laughs and Skizz just wants to give him a hug.

He wishes to make Bdubs promise he will stay, that they will wait for him before they leave to the nether. That they will not try to not fight the blazes this time. Skizz wishes he was brave enough to give Bdubs one of his lives, even if it meant he would go red, after his visit to Ren. Even if it would meant that he would be the lonely red. It's not like they trust me... Maybe I should. Maybe he should accept they don't want him.

He shakes his head. Bdubs had said he enjoyed beeing Red last time. He will have Cleo and Grian and Joel to choose from. Well, probably not Grian. But he will have people to look out for him and Skizz... Skizz still has some unfinished business. He looks over the snowy walls and his hand tremble as he checks the communicator. He will die alone, staring at the face of his former king. He will respawn, crying laughing and joke about his death to his friends? allies?

He looks back at the shorter man. "Stay safe, it's rough out here."

"Will do." The moss man laughs, as Skizz climbs over the wall, to march to his death.

***

Later, he has time to think about his decisions. He has time to process what it all means, but for now, he keeps moving forward.

***

Skizz jumps down into the puddle, not even caring about the water soaking his feet as he greets the glowtopus and his smaller pink friends. "Aren't you just adorable." he smiles. He looks at the axolotls, who have decided to not murder the poor squid and smiles. "You lot really are like us, huh?" He grabs the bucket on him and gently scoops one of the pink axolotls. "I think I'll keep you." he tells the animal, which happy makes circles in the water. "And I even have the most perfect name for you, you just have to wait."

He slowly walks out of the lake, making sure to not spill the bucket, as he closes off the rest of the animals, leaving them to their own fate. He carries the bucket, reaching his deepslate base. He swims throught the tunnel, until he sees the long stairs going down and down into the unknown. "You know, you'll be the third one to know about this." he tells the axolotl "Are you excited to learn about some secrets?" The pink creature just squeaks in answer and Skizz smiles. "That's what I thought. They were also impressed by this."

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and sets the bucket down, in front of the 5x5 cobblestone wall. "And here we will put the map, so we can see how he's doing. What do you think, should I also put down a marker to see where they live?" The animal squeaks again and Skizz slips him a bit of the fish he had found lying around. "Good idea, I thought so." He chuckles, as he looks for a good corner and digs a 2x2 hole.

He crafts an anvil, ready to attach a nametag to his companion. He has decided. He grabs the bucket and the axolotl stils, as he looks up at his owner questionably. "I know, I know, but it's not the time yet, you see. We have to wait for him to leave us." he gently explains. He sits down, placing the bucket in his lap, as he feeds the pet last bits of the fish. His comm buzzes and he sighs, as he checks the message.

Bdoubleo had fallen from a high place

He breathes out. "Would you look at that," he jokes "your naming ceremony is ready to start." He gets up and slowly places the bucket onto the anvil, as his hands inscribe a name on the bucket, naming his new companion. He looks down at the axolotl, the way it almost purrs when it bites into the tender flesh and gives it a tired smile "You really a are the cutest predator, but don't tell the reds, they might get jelaous." He jokes.

He takes the bucket and places his now named pet into the make-shift pond. "So, what do you think, Dubs? Will you like your new home?" He laughs and a tear falls to the ground. "I hope you'll be happy." Skizz whispers to the axolotl, but he feels, that perhaps he wishes the same for his buddy. That he finds a home where he can feel safe and get strong, until he has to take down the squids and turn them into fellow axolotls. And if he chooses him, well, then Skizz will make sure to help him out in his quest.

[cedarwhisp]

Smoke

pt. 1- Embers

pt 2- Ashes

CW: Death

They’re well into Season 8 when the Hermits meet their next ghost.

He’s small, curled in on himself and transparent like Tommy was, and the Hermit who finds him, Zedaph, notices the small, barely-there horns poking through thick, brown, curly hair, the floppy, furry ears, and the blood that stains the green button-down from a wound on his back.

The boy vanishes as soon as he sees Zedaph, but not before the Hermit sees the red bandana wrapped around his right arm, and the patchwork of burn scars all over his face.

Zedaph calls Xisuma immediately, of course; another ghost child making his way onto the server is definitely something the admin should know about. 

It’s three days before they see the ghost again, helped by the fact that, whoever the ghost is, he’s the one that Tommy’s compass leads to. The ghost (who Tommy says is named ‘Tubbo’ before Tango- being the only one who can touch him without getting burned- forces the kid to bed before he collapses) moves constantly, though, and is almost always invisible.

(They don’t tell Tommy the details, about the blood and the quiet defeat Zedaph had seen- the kid looked broken enough when Zedaph had mentioned the red banana.)

Surprisingly, it’s Doc who sees him next, quietly watching as the creeper hybrid works on one of his redstone machines. Tubbo doesn’t vanish when Doc slowly takes off his armour and approaches, but his form flickers enough that Doc knows he’s wary at the very least.

“Hey, man,” Doc says casually. “What’s going on?”

Tubbo shakes his head and points to his ears, but doesn’t speak.

Ah, right. Tommy had explained that Tubbo couldn’t hear very well, and wasn’t that good at lip reading, so he had taught most of the Hermits a little bit of BSL in case they found Tubbo when Tommy wasn’t there.

T-O-M-M-Y is here, Doc signs, clumsily spelling out Tommy’s name because he had forgotten the kid’s namesign. Come with me?

Tubbo vanishes like a snowball thrown into water, and the last thing Doc sees a look of pure terror.

From there, it gets worse.

Weeks pass like this, an uneasy tension fraying everyone’s nerves and Tubbo still being skittish, and it all comes to a head when Tommy dies to lava after falling asleep in the Nether with a ghast nearby.

Tubbo shows up more, but only in the distance; if anyone gets too close, he vanishes. Tommy’s running himself ragged trying to find his friend, any ill feelings towards him solved by time and the pure shock of seeing him dead. Pranks on the server decrease, but it doesn’t make the Hermits relax, and it becomes increasingly common for Grian or Tango to check Tommy’s base only to find a lightly-scorched paper with the words looking for Tubbo.

The second after the death message appears in chat, Iskall jumps as the most horrible, pain-filled scream he’s ever heard echoes through his base.

He races up the stairs towards the source of the sound, heart in his throat, and freezes.

Tubbo’s curled up on the floor, arms wrapped around his stomach and tears running down his face as he screams, this bone-shaking sound that makes Iskall’s ears ring, and he’s flickering in and out of sight like he’s not sure if he wants to disappear or not.

Iskall approaches, slowly, as Tubbo keeps screaming, but the ghost pays him no mind, and soon Iskall’s kneeling in front of him. He can’t touch Tubbo, not really, but he still tries to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

It’s like trying to rest his hand on a gust of wind, but Tubbo stops screaming, looking up to meet Iskall’s eyes with his own empty, blank ones.

“Hey, Tubbo,” Iskall says, slowly- he doesn’t know BSL, so lipreading is his only hope. “What’s wrong?”

“Tommy’s dead,” Tubbo cries. “Tommy’s dead, Tommy’s dead, Tommy’s dead-”

Iskall’s out of his depth here. Thinking fast, he sends a message in chat with his bionic eye, then quickly pulls out his actual comm to show Tubbo, the ghost’s own comm abandoned across the room.

<TommyInnit> im not dead tubbo i promise

<TommyInnit> id come over but tangos got me on house arrest

<TommyInnit> ask iskall to bring you to my base ok?

“He’s n-not dead?” Tubbo hiccups, and Iskall resists the urge to wipe the tears off his face.

“No, he’s not. Do you want to see him?”

Tubbo looks confused, so Iskall types it out.

“Yes. Please, please, I-I want to see him. I wanna see Tommy.”

It’s an emotional reunion, to say the least.

Tommy’s waiting for them by the nether portal, looking- Iskall doesn’t want to say dead on his feet, but the kid looks rough. The second he sees Tubbo, though, his face lights up.

“TUBBO!”

Tommy goes in for a hug, and Tubbo opens his arms to accept it, only for Tommy to pass right through him.

“T-tommy? Where’d you-”

Tommy pops right back up again and quickly starts signing, Iskall not having a clue what he’s saying, but Tubbo signs back and soon both boys are crying and trying to hug each other despite the fact that they can’t touch, Tommy’s lava tears making small scorchmarks on his sweater and the ground and Tubbo’s disappearing as soon as they leave his face.

Xisuma brings Tubbo back to life as soon as he agrees to it.

They stay like that until Xisuma comes, Iskall and Tango keeping an eye out for mobs and wiping away a few tears of their own.

It takes about two days for Doc to present Tubbo with a set of hearing aids, three for Xisuma to realize his and Tubbo’s shared love of bees, and a week before Tubbo decides to just move into Tommy’s base instead of building one.

Just like Tommy, Tubbo never explains how he died; the hermits never ask.

Just like Tommy, the revival isn’t perfect; Tubbo finds he’s still able to travel through blocks at times, which pisses off Tommy to no end (“I didn’t get any cool shit like that!”) and there are days when he’s almost a ghost again with how transparent he is, but it’s manageable.

The two teens build a bench facing the sunset near Tommy’s base, a jukebox beside it, and sit for a long, long time.

“Do you think we should go back?” Tubbo asks one day, fiddling with the petals of a rose.

Tommy thinks about it, arm thrown over the back of the bench, and replies, “Nah.”