#technically mumbo is here too but like

[frozenjokes]

cub dies

cw: not really that graphic but a little bit dead guy

ao3 link - Prev/Next

Cub was.. dead. Hm.

He laid there for a while in the river basin, mostly because he wasn’t certain he could move. He’d just been killed afterall, it was a fair assumption that dead bodies could not move, and any good dying man would stay put and wait for darkness to take him, but..

It never did. He never closed his eyes. At some point, he realized the phantom agony was just that; in reality, he could not feel anything at all.

Hm.

He sat up. That was an odd experience. It was easy. Cub hadn’t been able to move in any way that easily for the past thirty years; he felt light, floaty. He felt good. He felt afraid.

He drew his knees to his stomach. He saw through them.

“What..” Breathless, blinking hard. He was dead. 

He looked down. Blood colored the water. Too much blood. He’d been murdered. Someone had wanted him to hurt. Cub would have laid back down inside himself if not for the fear of seeing the inside of his skull. Although it was obscured by murky water, he got the sense it wasn’t.. entirely together.

It wasn’t hard to tell. Something was wrong with his own face. Something was wrong with.. a lot of him. He wasn’t wearing clothes. Missing fingers, skin. Not an inch of him had been spared from being flayed open. Cut. Shallow, deep, shallow again. He moaned a hoarse, deep loss. The pain was not physical, but how else could he understand it? He felt violated. He did not want to be this way at all.

And then he wasn’t.

Cub opened his eyes to clothes, a blue button up shirt and trousers, underneath which lived smooth skin. His head was together. He had his glasses, he could see. In a moment of discomfort, he wanted the familiar, he wanted his coat, and then he had it. He wanted more, more layers, more protection over his paper skin, but he was not given any more. He didn’t typically wear much more than this in life. That was that, then.

He breathed. He did not need to. He did it again, anyway. Maybe if he kept at it, his body would get the hint.

Getting out of the ditch was a small struggle. Cub wanted to climb out, he wanted to dig his hands into the soil and feel the mud beneath his fingers, but his hands would only go through the steep walls. It was so stupid— if he could stand in the water, why couldn’t he climb the bank? The second he had the thought, he started sinking into the earth. When he panicked, he popped right back out, somersaulting into an air-suspended circle, panicked again, then fell face first back into the water. And started to sink. This time, panicking only pushed him gently to the surface. Gingerly, tiptoeing, Cub got to his feet. 

He could fly. Probably. The thought made gooseflesh ripple through his arms, an unwelcome sensation after being torn to pieces. He wasn’t.. He just wanted to stay grounded for now.

So he walked along the river.

It was quiet. The water paid him no mind, not swerving around his ankles but going directly through. When it grew deeper, above his thighs, stomach, shoulders, neck, it was like Cub wasn’t even there. It saddened him, almost frustrated him. Was this how it was going to be forever now? Ignored by the world? He grimaced. Before the water lapped completely over his nose, he held his breath.

The sun rose and fell again. Cub was still walking. Waiting to get tired. Waiting for anything to happen. He came across another bank around midnight, exiting the water under the stars. This place had more of a beach, a shallower incline, and despite the dark, Cub was able to shuffle up it. Not like he could trip anymore. Luckily, the moon was full or nearly there, and there was a streetlight somewhere above him, so he was able to find his way up and not walk a straight angle into the ground.

He found a road. He walked down it until he found a street sign he didn’t recognize, but it looked like he was in some kind of inlet, a whole neighborhood tucked away from the busy roads, and once he found his way out, he could figure out his way home.

Two more days passed. He knew this town well, he’d lived here almost all his life, but disorientation made everything harder, and when he came out on a main road not knowing exactly where he was, he got a tad lost.

He wanted to be exhausted by the time he’d made it home. He wasn’t.

Cub did not know how he’d left things, but everything seemed the same. Untouched. Good. That felt good.

He laid in bed. Closed his eyes.

He had no living family. No friends that would think to check up on him. No job. It could be months before anyone figured out he was missing. Cub smiled.

It was not a perfect four months, but it was peaceful. Being dead was not all that fun, it turns out, but Cub hadn’t thought any differently. It was just Nothing most of the time. He didn’t exactly have a problem with that. He’d be antsy if he was alive, but time did not seem to pass in the same ways, flowing right through him, chunks of days and night just.. disappearing. The only reason he knew the date was the digital clock on his bedside; sometimes days passed without his knowing, and he would not have been able to keep track on his own.

He felt no pull to leave this place. It was home. It had everything he needed.

Every night he had clean sheets. A window to look out of. A roof to sit on without fear of falling. In his room he had posters and prints of all kinds of space-things, starscapes and planets and vast unknowns. It was an organized clutter in here, knickknacks and sticky notes and little figurines he collected all piled loosely on every surface. He only wished he could read the untouched books on his bookshelf. He had so much time.

He did not know how the police got into his house. Unless Cub had really been spaced out, they had not broken down the door. Cub watched them comb the area with scrunched noses, a little relieved at having something to do, and more than a little nervous for what this meant for his future. Each officer had an angel. They paid Cub little mind.

So the living world knew Cub was missing. What now?

Somehow, the answer Cub had not been expecting was the complete pillaging of his house. The angels of this ‘clean-up crew’ had afforded him a similar lack of attention, which was distressing in itself, but worse when they suddenly Cared.

“What are you doing?” he’d said to one of the workers, he hadn’t even been hostile, and yet the corresponding angel’s head snapped his way. Cub tried to ignore it. The worker was throwing away his old magazines— it wasn’t like Cub hadn’t been meaning to do that for years, but he’d been the one who was supposed to take that step. “Stop. Those are mine. You can’t— Those are some good magazines, you can’t just throw them away.”

Both angels were watching Cub now. He tried not to let his discomfort show.

“I understand the kitchen.. most everything in the fridge is rotten, and I probably wouldn’t have left that orange on the counter if I knew I was going to be dead.. I don’t like the ants either. At least the maggots are gone. Mostly. But this.. this is my stuff.”

The worker didn’t hear him. Of course not, it was obvious maybe, but Cub didn’t— he didn’t know what else to do.

“Do old people throw fucking anything away?” The man Cub had been trailing groaned upon opening the drawer of his TV cabinet, CDs and wires and various other bits of junk falling out of it. “I swear, every single one of these people are hoarders.”

“Do you ever stop asking the same questions?”

The other worker mumbled from the kitchen. “Same answer to both. No.” 

Cub bristled. He struggled to calm himself when he felt the angels’ eyes on his back. This wasn’t— couldn’t they see that this wasn’t fair!?

The process of systematically erasing all evidence of Cub’s existence took days, and that was only the first floor. The living would not see reason. They would not stop. Could not see why what they were doing was so wrong. Desperation brought him to the angels.

“Tell them to stop. You have to know this isn’t— This is my life. This is my house! My— Don’t let them touch my room. Please let me keep my room.”

Both the angels were taller than him, looming impossibly large. Their faces were cold, ruthless, like they’d manually removed the parts of themselves that could feel. Cub’s breath left him shakily. He hoped they saw. Hoped they understood he was still breathing.

“Do you think he’ll be dangerous?” one mumbled, sounding bored.

“He’s marked,” said the other. “But no signs of violence.”

“Yet.”

Cub fled. He fled to his room, sunk low enough into his mattress that if he closed his eyes, he might feel the weight of his blankets, the pressure of his pillows over his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. He just— he just wanted his room.

The rest of the day, Cub sat in his bed and tried to memorize it. You’d think it wouldn’t be hard, not after forty years of life in this place, but it was the little things, the chips in the paint, the exact curve of the ceiling fan blades, the order in which he stacked the extra books on his shelf. If he could remember it all, he could put everything back. Somehow, he would get everything back. If they managed to take it down at all.

It was the next morning when Cub heard footsteps up the spiral staircase, he heard them and he was ready, standing in the doorway of his bedroom, conviction wisping off his form.

This was not their place to take. This was not their home. 

“Go back,” he called, he made sure he did not mumble, he made sure that he was loud, that he could not be misunderstood. “Go back.” The living would not hear him, but they would know when goosebumps rippled across their arms, when that fickle unease settled in their stomachs. Cub knew they would know, just like he knew that he could hurt them. “Go back.”

He saw the first worker hesitate when he made it up the stairs, long enough for the second to catch up, and the angels to follow them.

The angels were grave. Cub didn’t care. He’d hurt them too. He was already going to hell.

The living did not turn back. Cub lunged, but he did not make it halfway across the hall before an angel had him by the throat, squeezing, and then he was gone.

Well.

Cub was still.. in existence. But the rest of the world seemed to have been vacuumed away, replaced by void, a walled void, one he slammed into as he fell forward. It did not hurt. He was dead. But it felt like it should have. He was too stunned to scream.

The ability to touch something, to feel it wholly, was a sensation Cub dearly missed, but now it filled him with dread. His hands felt too heavy on the cool floor. When he reached out, his arms could not even fully extend before his fingers touched the opposite walls. When he tried to stand, he hit his head.

Whatever sound left his throat was gurgled and broken. Inhuman, but human once.

This couldn’t be. Things like this— these things weren’t supposed to happen to him anymore.

…

He didn’t know what that meant. The thought. But he felt it so strongly, it must be true.

…

When the world rematerialized around Cub, everything was gone. He was hunched next to the banister over the first floor of his home, but he did not need to see the rest to know. No more pictures on the wall. No more accent rugs over the cold hardwood floors. 

It was a small relief that his bed was still there. New sheets, new blankets, but his bed. His bedside table. His dresser. His desk. The rest was gutted. Not even a hanger in the closet. Not even a smudge on the branching bathroom’s mirror. Cub had no idea how much time had passed. His clock was gone.

At least for a while it was quiet. Not for long enough.

Suddenly, the house was full of noise. Dozens of realtors hosting showings for moms, young couples, single men, entire families; there were so many people in Cub’s house all day. He tried to hide, but every inch of his place was being combed for imperfections, undesirables that customers would speak loudly and brashly of, things that didn’t matter, they were being— They had no right to be so mean! This wasn’t even their house, and it never would be!

Cub feared the angels. He just wanted to be out of the way. Every night he prayed to a god he hadn’t previously believed in that it would just end.

He was hiding in his room at the start of the next day when the first showing began. Just one man by the sound of it, someone Cub could easily avoid if he listened carefully, phasing through the floor at the right time. 

And then the angel was in his doorway.

Cub stared for a moment, but he did not get the chance to process before the angel groaned, hands sliding across his face in a show of emotion so novel, Cub almost didn’t question why he was so far away from his paired human. 

“Do you know how many houses this man has looked at. And how many of them are haunted!? Too many!” The angel whisper-shouted, which was shocking enough in itself; Cub had never been addressed this directly before.

The angel looked ready to continue ranting, but he stopped suddenly, staring as if he was seeing Cub for the first time, his brow pinching in concern.

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Cub felt his own expression grow strained, red anxiety swelling under his skin. He didn’t know what or why, but he didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want this angel to look at him like that any longer.

“Leave,” Cub tried, but his voice left him weakly, “Take your human and just— just get out of here.”

“We’ll be out of your hair soon,” the angel spoke softly, sympathetically, but Cub only saw threat in his step forward.

“Don’t. Stop. Don’t come any closer.”

The angel frowned. He stepped more cautiously. 

“I’ll hurt him!” Cub didn’t even know what he was saying, just that he needed his room, his space, or maybe he needed to run, get out of here, he just needed— “I’m dangerous! I’ll—“ 

The angel lunged, and Cub was not fast enough.

Back in the void, he screamed.

Not as much time passed before he was out, all humans and angels absent. The sun was going down. Had it even been more than a day? Cub held his own arms in a loose hug, and cried.

He was not ready when a week or so later, the angel returned.

“I’m sorry.”

And then, before Cub could even react, he was gone once more. Released with the setting sun. Cub didn’t know what to do. What could he do against an angel— was his human interested in buying the house? What happened to Cub then!?

Another week passed. Then another. Things seemed to be calming down. Maybe the house had been sold.

When Cub heard a key slide into the lock some days later, the hair on the back of his neck rose. He hid. Just in case. Surely he would not be so unlucky to share a space with an angel that was going to  hunt him.

Cub pushed himself against the wall of his bedroom closet. It would not hold him if he exerted too much pressure, but he tried to pretend. He just needed to know. He was struggling to remember what human the angel had been paired with; Cub had never seen them. A man? A woman? A couple? He did not know. Right now, it seemed like only one man was in the house.

“Shit..” 

Cub froze. 

That was him. His voice. Clearly the angel knew where to look, too, and even if it wasn’t true that the angel’s human was moving in permanently, Cub wasn’t sure if he could take the chance to do nothing. He could leave. Give up his house and go somewhere new. But that— no. The world had already taken so much from him. This was his place. His safety. Cub would not allow it to be taken from him, too.

He had to act now. The angel moved silently; this would be the only time Cub could ambush him knowing for certain he was here.

Cub allowed himself only a moment to poke his head through the closet door, teeth itching. By some miracle, the angel was facing the other way. It felt natural to stalk someone this way. 

The angel screamed when Cub’s teeth found the back of his neck, when his claws, once fingers, found his wings. Cub tasted blood and wanted more, he dug in, held on despite the battering of the angel’s wings against Cub’s ears. 

Someone called up from downstairs. Another angel? Cub hoped so.

He did not feel the hand on his ankle before the world was black, and all he was left with was the coppery tang of blood.

…

“I just feel terrible. I don’t— I don’t think I can let him out, Impulse. What if he attacks again? What if he goes after Mumbo?”

“I would advise against it. If it helps, there’s about a 95% chance that’s not a good guy.” Impulse laid back on the warm rocks with his arms folded behind his head; warm, which is to say, fucking hot— Skizz chose to scald only his feet instead, dancing slightly to ease the pain. “You know you don’t have to stay.”

Skizz ignored him. “That’s not even true. It’s more likely he was taken advantage of.”

“Vex don’t go after ‘good’ people.”

“He’s old.”

Impulse snorted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know! Old people can be a little all over the place, they can be vulnerable, you’ve never watched someone grow old, they change, they can get— It’s just not easy, alright? It doesn’t make them bad people. And obviously, if he was disowned, that’s a sign there’s more going on.”

“I won’t argue with you.” Impulse closed his eyes, head back dismissively.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you being so short with me?”

Impulse opened an eye. The cat-eyed pupil narrowed to a slit, after which he closed it again. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

It was difficult to tell if he was teasing or not, but either way, Skizz was still irked. “Everything’s just fine upstairs. You’re the only problem.”

“Hell’s not a good place for people with holes in their necks, that’s all.”

Skizz crossed his arms, but in tandem with the little flutter in his chest, his smile returned. “Now Dipple-Dop, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were worried about me. Are you concerned you’ve grown a soul? They don’t torture you if you get your soul back, do they?”

“I don’t want to find out,” Impulse relented, shoulders relaxing. “But seriously, your injuries will get infected if you stay down here. Don’t act like you don’t know it, being reckless isn’t cute. So beat it.”

Skizz huffed, but spread his wings regardless, giving a small precursory flap. 

“Just say so, next time. That you’re worried.”

“Too risky. Might grow a soul. Now get—“ “Alright, alright, I’m going!”

[shepscapades]

i love your dbhc au but i have a question regarding your last comic

i absolutely adore Mumbo as an android and especially the whole "he isn't allowed to kill anything so any command involving it turns into some kind of crazy automated machine that does it for him" because that's just a really good way of making this infinitely intelligent guy a little bit of a bumbling fool (/pos!!)

but isn't the soulcontract thing against that? i imagine killing grian is even more ingrained than just killing mobs, or is it fine now that he's deviated? (which also, interesting that first kill he gets after deviation is grian cause i assume he just doesn't realise he can actually kill mobs and stuff and keeps up his machinery?)

=:3

OUU This is a really great point. I hadn't really thought about it in detail, but deviating would technically mean that Mumbo is no longer held to his base programming/base objectives etc. I like to think that, for the most part, he keeps to the No Killing thing after deviation (partially because he goes a LONG time pretending he's not deviant and hoping no one notices) but also because by the time his deviancy is up and everyone knows, i would imagine that coming up with bizarre contraptions is just muscle memory at this point for him.

I absolutely love the idea that Grian's death here is Mumbo's first kill, though technically, Mumbo uses a piston machine to squash and kill him (and despite Mumbo's insistence, i highly doubt killing Grian was actually necessary for this "soul exchange." I'm sure Grian could have gone into watcher mode to initiate a weird soul splitting thing whenever LMAO). So, like mumbo's many other "kills" throughout the season, he's gotten a machine to do the work for him and kept the very technical blood off of his hands. And honestly, i'm sure actual hermitcraft mumbo made the machine for this purpose too.

I think him killing Grian this way, despite him not actually killing him by hand, still has a bit of significance, because I can't remember a time before this where Mumbo had to devise a machine to kill another player... So even though his hands are clean, this is still a pretty significan OH JUST KIDDING SCRATCH THAT i think Mumbo kills Joel in Last Life with a stone axe in canon... and i think he's part of the reason Impulse dies? By sword i think? Last life isn't technically the same but it's something at least. ANYWAY LMAO i may end up changing the last life plot a bit for dbhc mumbo so that isn't the case (his end crystal kills wouldn't count against his kill count) But the boogeyman thing makes it hard to work around... anyway that's a problem for future shep DLKGFJDFG i'm rambling now <3 this is a really fascinating concept for him, ty for the asks for pondering!! :D

[firewolf111]

Hello!

I've had a fanfic idea in my head for a while, but have been struggling to find the motivation to write, especially since this idea would be a long form fic and I usually write oneshots. I have a bit of an all or nothing mindset, so convincing myself to work on a project I can't finish in one sitting is really hard. So I figured why not try a notes thing.

(Not sure why I'm trying since only my sanders sides ship posts seem to get any attention, but may as well)

So...

For every 5 notes this post gets, I'll write for 15 minutes. Every 10 notes I'll write for the 15 minutes and post a small blurb to keep myself accountable.

If we somehow get to 100 notes, I'll up it to 30 minutes.

Let's go over some basics for the fic so you know whether you want to root for me to write it or not.

It's a Hermitcraft fic. Although it is kinda, slightly a life series cross-over (the summary will make this make sense.

It would technically be Mumbo centric, but it would have scenes from multiple of the Hermits pov.

Sound interesting?

Here's the summary:

The life game was over. Mumbo knew that for a fact. Yet a part of him feels trapped there. Nightmares and paranoia have become a frequent experience for him. But it was just a game. He wasn't going to ruin his friends' fun just because he couldn't handle a little bloodshed. Besides, the game was over. This was Hermitcraft. Hermitcraft was a safe server.

Except... the server is safe. But the players aren't.

Most viruses and parasites that could potentially latch on to a player are normally large enough to be detected by the many firewalls and anti-virus programs Hermircraft has set up. Any of them small enough to slip past are too weak to attach to the players. Or normally they are. But Mumbo hasn't been doing too well.

Why would the Hermits think to check? Surely, if one of them was feeling bad enough that a virus could latch onto and feed off of to grow stronger, then obviously, they would reach out for help. Except he didn't.

And now the virus has grown too strong.

What happens when the virus gives Mumbo the ability to alter the server's code?

Well... he already feels like he is trapped in the life game. So why not bring it to life?

Let the games continue.

(Well, that summary got away from me. I might later make a better one.)

But anyways, if that sounds like a fic you may enjoy, send some notes. Comment, reblog it, tag your mutuals who you think might like it. Do whatever to peer pressure me onto writing this (otherwise, the idea will probably rot away in my brain).

Just preferably keep it to 5 notes a person.

[twoastricts]

Can you have multiple different cross over AUs that cross over the same stories? I don't care for the answer, here's another Life Series x Hollow Knight AU. Calling it "Hollow Life AU".

Basic premise goes like this:

Watcher 1: I'm bored.

Watcher 2, currently cleaning up after the end of the newest life series: how can you be bored, we just finished watching a death game for crying out loud! Wait at least a week before being bored again.

Watcher 1: yeah, the death game is fun. But when the death game ends, there is nothing to do while we wait for their souls to heal. We just send them back to their home sever where they play with friends and sleep sound and have infinite respawns and there are no real stakes. It's boring!

Watcher 2: if we get too greedy our food supply will-

Watcher 1: BORING!!

Watcher 2: Fine, you want stakes? You want them to fear sleep? I have an idea.

Commence mass isekai of the Life Gang to Hallownest.

Main plot is that all the members get spread out across Hallownest and they need to link up to find a way home, with Grian having a special interdimensional communicator that he and Xisuma made after Last Life because Xisuma decided that if a portion of his players were going to whipped up into these death games he wants to be kept in the know of what's going on. (It's made of redstone on Xisuma's end, an end crystal and some Watcher magic from Grian. Xisuma knows Grian is a Watcher.)

And despite the fact that Watchers sent them here, that was 2 Watchers working together and they were much more experienced than Grian, who is a baby by Watcher standards.

Xisuma (along with some more technical Hermits, I mean to do this without Doc or Cub would be stupid) sets up a way for the Lifers to get to Hermitcraft (and thus have free range to go back to their home servers if they aren't Hermits) but he can only do it once or else the worlds we become unstable and fall apart. So Grian needs to round up his friends so he can send them all back at once.

Problem. Just because you're from another world doesn't mean you're immune to infection. So yeah, some of the Lifers get infected.

Commence speedrun of the Dream No More ending so moth b*tch can die and everyone can get home.

Still don't know what bug I want everyone to be. Open for suggestions on any player that isn't drawn here. Any bug from Hollow Knight is allowed except for wyrms, roots, or void constructs/creatures of any form. Feel free to give suggestions on whether they get infected or not as well, along with who they might first meet upon waking.

I know Grian first meets Hornet, Scott is alone, Joel is in the Hive, Lizzie in alone, and Pearl meets Seer. I also know that I want Martyn, and maybe Ren, to get wrapped up in the Grimm troupe, and for Quirrel to be babysitting at least 3 different Lifers (Probably Jimmy, Skizz, and either Scar or Mumbo)

obviously when suggesting characters they first meet there are some that are off limits (Radiance and The Hollow Knight for obvious reasons, along with anyone who is dead, for obvious reasons).

I just manly want suggestions on bugs to make their bugsonas though.

[chobblesomewrites]

Grumbo Professional Esports AU (abandoned work)

A collection of drabbles/scenes rearranged in chronological order featuring Team Coach Mumbo x Pro Player Grian. Warning; makes use of League of Legends/MOBA Mechanics. Unrealistic depiction of the esports scene.

No, this will not be fully written or edited. Prepare for weird pacing and incoherence. I'M JUST POSTING THIS SO I CAN STOP BEING ASKED ABOUT IT </3

—————

[ READ BELOW ]

Mumbo wasn't one for competitive games, but he had made exceptions from time to time. Those times mostly due to his online best friend wanting to drag him to experience almost anything and everything with him.

He wouldn't have even dreamed of touching MOBA games if it weren't for Grian begging him to, excusing that no one else but Mumbo was actually willing to deal with his competitive nature. He had first refused, firmly wanting to stick to his farming simulator games, but Grian knew too well how to act like a brat to get what he wanted.

So he found himself on [                ]’s tutorial screen, anxiously going through it while Grian remained in the Discord call with him, giggling at every noise he made every time he jumped from the sight of an enemy NPC.

“You lied when you said this game had a farming mechanic,” Mumbo accused his friend with a whine as he spam clicked on a highlighted enemy minion, clicking his tongue when he missed the gold.

Grian cackled, “Well, killing minions for gold is called farming. So technically I wasn't lying?”

Mumbo let out an audible huff of betrayal, which made Grian laugh even more as he tried killing his character to the minions out of spite.

—

Mumbo had thought he wouldn't be playing the game as often, for the main reason he had the game at all was because Grian occasionally didn't have anyone to play with, as he said. But he had plenty of friends so Mumbo didn't feel the need to open the game as he would probably be the last person on Grian's friendlist to be asked.

But dear lord was he wrong.

After getting bullied for his lack of game knowledge for one night, Grian kept inviting him to duo queue every single day. Mumbo would've been led to believe that Grian actually didn't have friends except for him if it weren't for their friends occasionally coming by to 5 man queue with them. But even then, that led Mumbo questioning even more of Grian's motives to specifically invite him of all people, adding to the fact that Grian apparently hated playing ADC but specifically only played it when in duo queue with Mumbo.

It was confusing. So, so confusing. Mumbo was so pants at the game yet Grian just kept inviting him nonetheless!

So, Mumbo thought; if Grian wanted to play with him that badly, he'd have to adjust his mentality to make sure that his best friend was actually having fun. He wasn't just here to keep Grian company anymore, he was here to now help Grian actually enjoy his games.

On weekday nights Grian would be too busy to get online, Mumbo used his free time to get on custom and try out other heroes outside of just support. He specifically tried mid laners in hopes to give Grian more opportunities to play roles outside of ADC, trying to prove that Mumbo was more than capable of handling himself!

He learned the map, how to invade, how to dodge, how to properly farm– everything. He needed to learn everything.

If it was for Grian, he'll take on everything.

–

[ DEFEAT ]

“....”

The call was silent, save for Grian who did horribly to muffle his laughter. Mumbo groaned in embarrassment into his hands, “Midlaning is hard,” he admitted in a mumble, which caused Grian to outright laugh into his mic.

“You didn't have to force yourself to try.”

“But you like playing jungle.” Mumbo pouted.

“Not all the time! Who on earth even says they like playing jungle?”

Mumbo sighed as he clicked off the after-game stats, returning back to their party lobby to see Grian already waiting to start the queue. The man already set himself back to the ADC role and it made Mumbo slump even more in guilt over his desk.

By some magical force, Grian probably felt his bad mood and he reassured with a smile, “I still think it's more fun if we're laning together.”

“You get to spoil me and you'd only have eyes for me!” Grian teased.

Mumbo felt himself flush red at that. Not knowing how to quip back, he simply said, “Shut up.”

–

5 man queues are always fun. It means Mumbo could just turn off his brain and listen to his friends talk and trash talk without having to say much because there's enough of them to hold the conversation together.

Mumbo was about to fully zone out while watching Grian’s character farm freely in their lane when he heard him speak up about something in their team's idle conversation on call.

“You know, I actually plan to be a professional gamer.”

From whatever conversation the call was going through, everyone in their friend group broke into laughter at Grian's admittance. Mumbo could hear Grian's pout as he tried to defend his dream, “I'm serious here!”

Their friends laughed even more, “How plausible would that even be as a job? We're just teenagers, dude. Who would wanna sign kids like us?”

Their words were obviously just trying to tease Grian, but Grian didn't take it lightly. The ADC went quiet as the friends in call continued on about how ridiculous of a scene it would be if anyone of them were to actually turn out to be 

Out of nowhere, Mumbo suddenly spoke up, “I think it's not impossible.”

The conversation paused and Mumbo suddenly felt conscious of the attention on his words. Nonetheless, he continued on, “I believe in you, if you are still going to try.”

“I'll try it with you.”

The call bursted into laughter again, even Grian couldn't help but giggle, which made Mumbo feel hot in the face from embarrassment. He spent the rest of the game making so many mistakes because the entire call kept teasing him for making such bold declarations.

He was able to live through 2 games of that until the other 3 friends in their team decided to log off, leaving him with Grian. Mumbo had thought that he would log off too, but he simply clicked the queue button without saying anything, leaving 

2 minutes into the queue, Grian finally spoke up, “I'm holding you up to that promise, you know.”

“You better go professional with me.”

Mumbo wonders if he's gonna regret promising that, given how ominous Grian makes it sound as if he's sold his soul to the devil. But if the devil were Grian, he finds that he doesn't really mind missing a part of himself.

–

Ever since that promise, Grian had been relentless with playing with Mumbo. Not that he wasn't always relentless before, but Grian was now determined to actually help Mumbo catch up to his level. They've even started custom 1v1s in hopes to improve.

Other people, if they were in Mumbo's position, would've been annoyed. Given how Grian tends to get frustrated eventually, Mumbo just takes it as a sign to be better. He couldn't slack.

He knew that Grian wasn't specifically frustrated at his skills, he was frustrated and anxious of the possibility that Mumbo wouldn't be able to sign with him if he didn't improve. They needed to do it together, Grian was stubborn to make sure of that fact.

So Mumbo didn't fault him for he loved him.

–

“Are you signed to a team?”

An account that was obviously a smurf had privately messaged him one time after a solo queue game Mumbo played while waiting for Grian. He ignored it, assuming that it was a scammer pretending to be a professional. He even went to quickly unfriend the account with this thought in mind and sat in the party lobby for a few minutes before a friend request came in.

“Xvoid,” Mumbo murmured out. He frowned and leaned back on his chair in thought, wondering if he's seen that username before. Probably in his other games, but Mumbo doesn't really actively pay attention to the randoms he and Grian match up with.

It was when he was about to decline the friend request that Grian joined the lobby with a very loud, “Mumbo Dumbo Bumbo Jumbo!”

“Grian,” Mumbo returned the sentiment, sounding more exasperated than excited like Grian. His friend must've realized something from that tone difference as he immediately questioned, “What's up?”

“Someone messaged me about signing to a team and now I'm trying to remember who this XVoid person is.”

Grian made a noise of surprise, “XVoid? Xisuma?”

“Who?”

“The Captain of [            ]! I thought we watched enough live streams together to know this?”

“... Grian, I only know Etho in that team!”

Grian made a noise of offense and went off on a tangent about each and every member of the team that was not Etho, scolding Mumbo for being a ‘solo fan’. Mumbo ignored him, hovering his mouse over Xisuma's friend request.

If it is the captain of that team, Mumbo can only assume that this was probably just a fan account. It didn't hurt to accept it. He's had a lot of friends in his friend list that he decidedly ignored a lot anyway. He just accepts them for the sake of filling that friend list.

With that over with, Mumbo started the queue, still ignoring Grian who was scolding his ear off.

–

Mumbo should've known there was going to be more to the friend request than he realized. What he assumed was a fan account was actually just the professional player's sub account.

Xisuma's team had taken notice of Mumbo, and even personally invited him to be their main team's support rather than simply being a substitute. Mumbo was about to disagree at first, discussing with Grian that he still wanted to play professionally with him, but Grian didn't stall him. He simply said;

"Go," and Mumbo had thought Grian hated him for being noticed by a team until he added, "I'll catch up."

And they left it at that. Mumbo signed with Xisuma's team as their support player but didn't even get to react properly that his online best friend didn't message him at all anymore as he was forced to move to a team provided account, leaving his personal one to the dust.

–

Mumbo's esports career didn't last longer than four years, but it was a good start for a while. He didn't have any experience whatsoever but his team was kind enough to help him throughout. He also found that a lot of people seem to like his awkward attitude so he didn't feel the need to upkeep a certain persona.

But with the constant change of meta to aggressive supports, his steady gameplay had no use in any team comps. It didn't help that, at every tournament, he got sadder and sadder the more he realized he couldn't see a certain username anywhere in both domestic and international teams even after a while. 

Grian wasn't there. The reason he was here at all, wasn't there. 

He had been moved to a substitute player midway through his career, replaced with someone more younger and aggressive in playstyle, his other teammates had also either retired or moved to better teams. The team’s management was still fond of him and he was only really kept for the fans' sentiments, but Xisuma didn't want him to live the rest of his life as a decoration, noticing the way Mumbo didn't enjoy his current status. The team they were in contract with wasn't getting any better either. They weren't going anywhere like this. Their skills could be put to more use somewhere. 

They couldn't accept the current state of things when they hadn't even won a single international championship to their name. Xisuma owed Mumbo at least a trophy for signing him up for the big leagues at such a young age that he could've used the time to explore more of his life.

He had offered Mumbo two things; Xisuma would pay so he could go back to college, or he could sign to Xisuma's budding esports company for a new chance.

As a coach, that is.

Mumbo had almost been tempted to say he would rather go back to studying, but Xisuma added more to his offer that he couldn't refuse; "You can choose the team. You'll be their main coach, after all."

Mumbo remembered that someone still promised to catch up, and he'd be willing to be a coach if it meant dragging him up here.

He promised. They promised they'd go together.

For the first time in a few years, Mumbo logged back in to his old account and clicked on a familiar user on his friend list.

"Grian,"

"You there?"

–

Mumbo wasn't confident for a while that Grian would reply back. It had been a good long while, after all. Would Grian even remember him? Mumbo's sure he himself hasn't forgotten the other, but he doesn't know if the sentiments are the same. 

Mumbo didn't really have the time to be too anxious about it either, busy helping Xisuma with properly setting up the company while also looking for managers and analysts to help him with forming the team.

The next time he finally checked his account again, he was disappointed when there was no message back. But one thing that gave him hope was when Grian’s user was lit up. He was online. And Mumbo could see damn well that his best friend, if he could still call him that, was actually just struggling to come up with a reply, especially when the indication of the other person typing kept popping up and disappearing over and over.

At least, with that, Mumbo knows that he wasn't fully ignored.

After a bit of waiting, he decided to give mercy to whatever message Grian is taking this long to send.

"Queue?"

And then the indication of Grian typing stopped. Then replying,

"You literally returned from war after how many and your first message is to ask to queue?? Not even gonna say hi to the kids?"

Mumbo burst out laughing. Somehow, it feels as if he never left for the professional scene and is back to his teenage self.

"How are you?"

"Got wife and kids."

Mumbo frowned at that, "Seriously?"

"No, you idiot. I'm this young and you think I'd have a kid already?"

"..." Mumbo rolled his eyes

"So what have you been doing this entire time?” I waited for you to catch up. Did you lie to me?

“Well one of us had to go to college, Mumbo.”

“Low Blow.”

“My bad.” Grian then typed, “Queue?”

“So now you’re trying to distract me by asking to play?”

“It's also been a while. I'm itchin’.”

Mumbo checked the time. He's fairly free for the rest of the day. And it's been a while since he's had genuine fun in the game, “Well, we ‘oughta scratch it!”

“Attaboy!”

–

They queue together for a while. Mumbo's old account had considerably ranked down so they were in lower elos. It wasn't that hard to win easily.

Grian was still good at the game, probably even better. He could catch up with Mumbo’s thinking, and Mumbo’s got the professional experience. One thing that bothered him was that Grian didn’t initiate a call like they always did years ago. Comms and all. Mumbo was left with Grian’s spam pinging and visual cues. Mumbo was too shy to ask about it, so he forced himself to be happy enough with Grian playing around with the emotes when they were idle in lane.

But surprisingly, when Mumbo thought they were about to log out, Grian told him to get in-game party call;

“Mumbo.” Oh, Mumbo has not heard that voice in a long time. Grian sounds less like a squeaker now. The long duration of having not spoken to each other was now extremely evident.

Mumbo forgot to greet back, and he didn’t get a chance to, as Grian spoke up again, “Why exactly did you message me again? Surely it's not to play, not when we could've done this for the past years.”

Mumbo didn’t know what to say for a moment. Would it be too rude to ask Grian about his previous interest in esports? Would that seem like he’s trying to flaunt at him or mock him?

His mouth twitched in hesitation, “Are you… still interested in going professional?”

“...” Grian didn’t reply, and Mumbo somehow felt even more desperate.

“You said you’d catch up.”

“I…” Grian sighed into the mic, seeming a little agitated, “Opportunities don't come as easily for me as it did for you, Mumbo.”

Mumbo furrowed his eyebrows, staring at Grian's little cat icon in disbelief, “...And so you gave up, just like that?”

“It wasn't just like that!” Grian defended. He sounded a little pissed off that Mumbo couldn't help but go quiet. At the silence, Pesky muttered an apology and calmed his tone, “Look, I- I really tried, alright? It was pressuring.”

Mumbo opened his mouth to ask what exactly pressured him but Grian beat him to it as he rambled on, “I lost my everyday duo to some team I couldn't even enter myself. Mum kept urging me to give up and go to college, but–” the voice on the other end cracked slightly but he took a long enough pause to steady himself, “I didn't want to- You, you were waiting, up on those big stages, looking around those stadiums like some lost little dog abandoned by their owner–”

“I was not some lost little dog!” Mumbo squeaked out in embarrassment, wondering if he really looked like that in the game livestreams, “How would you even know I was looking for you?!”

Grian’s smug smile could be heard in his tone, “I didn't say you were looking for me.”

Mumbo went quiet and murmured whinily, “You implied….”

The call was filled with Grian's giggling and Mumbo let himself enjoy the embarrassment for a brief moment before moving the topic along, “Anyway, I did say I was going to disagree to join them, but you urged me to accept it. I said I could've waited until we could sign together–”

“But you like the game, don't you, Mumbo?”

Caught quite off-guard, Mumbo gave his question a thought. He did like the game. Understanding the mechanics and strategy of it is fun. Winning a game was actually exciting since the winning conditions needed good skill and awareness to achieve, but… 

He only ever truly loved playing it because Grian was there. His best friend was a part of everything he loved about the game.

Mumbo was quiet and he couldn't find it in himself to actually admit his true opinions. Grian assumed that he was just embarrassed to admit that he liked the game and decided to move on, “So it was unfair to you. I couldn't drag you down. I know we promised to do it together, but that doesn't have to cost your possible futures.”

Mumbo chewed on his lip and once again quietly asked, “But are you still interested in playing?”

“Mumbo, I never stopped playing despite,” Grian said. An indirect message admitting that; he wants to play. He's always wanted to play. He never once gave up on the dream to. He's just a little late. “I wouldn't have queued with you today if I wasn't.”

Mumbo was hopeful at that admittance and he was quick to say, “Then play for me.”

“What?”

It was Grian's turn to be caught off-guard this time, sputtering in confusion and in disbelief. Mumbo could hear him sit straight on his chair, judging by the squeaking picked up by his mic, “No, that's- You shouldn't be practicing nepotism, Mumbo-”

Mumbo made a noise caught between a whine and a groan, “It's not nepotism if it's the coach's job to assemble a team of good players,” he defended. Grian was in even more disbelief this time as he caught on as to what Mumbo was getting at.

“Coach? What happened to your original team–? They still had you as a substitute…”

“Capt– X paid for the separation fee.”

Grian’s voice raised a little, “Then who and what the hell are you coaching for?”

Mumbo took a deep breath, needing to steady himself to be able to explain to Grian the situation without making it worse, “Look, I know you said you specifically wanted to play for a well-known team and, currently, X's company is just fairly knew–”

“Oh my god…” Grian muttered, his voice was muffled like he was burying his face in his hands. Mumbo ignored him as he continued to explain.

“He invited me to be the main coach, to set up the team to how I see fit since he had trust in the way I was at least aware of what was right, who was capable– Well, not to be blunt, but I have the skills to be able to strategize for an entire time and–”

Grian cut his ramble off, “You… you didn't do all this just for me, did you?”

Yes, I did. 

But, “No,” was what Mumbo said instead. “I still like the game, but I'm still not overly aggressive and competitive enough to be successful as a player, as you know.”

Silence that befell the call after that and it worried Mumbo as he didn't know if Grian could trust that reason. He was just about to continue his little persuasion when he was cut off again.

“I'm joining.”

“Before you– Wait, you are?!”

“Well, someone's gotta make sure you're not making wrong decisions! Who do you think taught you the game?! And you're planning to be the coach!?”

Mumbo couldn't even be sheepish at the underlying tone of being scolded. He was happy enough to hear Grian agree to joining even when doubt was evident in the other’s tone.

He’ll just have to show he’s capable of being Grian’s support, like always.

–

“Grian!” Mumbo had called out excitedly, approaching the man who held such a name. Maybe he was jogging more than politely approaching. Who was to blame him for being excited by the idea of finally meeting his long time online best friend face to face?

Grian’s shoulders jumped in surprise and he couldn't help but turn to look, looking even more stunned as he wasn't given time to react to the sudden hug Mumbo forced him into. His arms couldn’t find where to place itself, eventually relaxing on Mumbo’s back as he hugged back with equal eagerness.

The shorter man couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re surprisingly taller in real life, coach!”

Mumbo froze and pulled away to look at him weirdly, “Already calling me coach?”

“What? Were you actually not planning to sign me?”

Coach Mumbo winced and shook his head panickedly, “Goodness, of course we’re still planning to sign you, it’s just–” he hunched over and pouted a bit, “Isn’t coach a little too formal for us?”

Grian nudged Mumbo playfully, “Get used to it. You wanted this job. Didn’t you, coach?”

Mumbo pouted even more, slightly red in the face, “You don’t find me calling you jungler, do you?”

“I’m not signed yet so you can’t officially call me that yet,” the dirty blonde man then grinned wide, “For now, you can refer to me as darling.”

“Oh, stop it.”

–

Officially signing Grian up as the company’s first player was like a fever dream, even Grian himself would agree, and he’s had plenty of disbelieving things happening to himself. Even now when he was fully acquainted and settled into the residence provided by the team, he couldn’t believe that he was actually… what he dreamed of.

Grian glanced to his side, watching his coach scroll through some gameplay videos for possible teammates. Somehow, it felt right that the online best friend who nerds out about strategies that he can’t apply himself, was the tall man beside him.

Though honestly, Grian still expected Mumbo to be some hunched over nerd like he was. Who knew the man had not only looks and height, he had better posture than Grian.

The dirty blonde slumped in his chair and zoned out as Mumbo started introducing possible teammates, offering him options to form whatever team he wanted.

Grian didn’t listen much, still a little out of it. It is fairly weird that the coach of all people was asking the player who he wanted as teammates when it was supposed to be mainly the coach’s and the management’s job.

“Can I really pick the rest of my teammates?” He cut off Mumbo’s muttering in a familiar manner. Mumbo, as always, didn’t take offense and answered him.

“Of course.”

“And you’d support me?”

They held each other's stare longer than they should've. Mumbo broke into a smile.

“As I always have.”

–

“You’re stressing out Pearl again.”

Grian was half laying on his chair and lazily scrolling through the Grumbo tag on social media when Mumbo had come up to him with an unamused frown. Grian had half the respect for his coach to fix his seating arrangement and sat up properly to flash an innocent smile at Mumbo.

“I don’t seem to follow.”

Mumbo tugged at his hair in distress, familiar with Grian’s pretend dumb strategy. As a coach, you’d think that understanding strategies would be kept to the game, not applied even to his troublesome players.

“Sorry, let me rephrase then. You’re giving both Pearl and the PR team an extremely hard time to defend your honor.”

Grian sighs wistfully, “But you are my honor.”

Mumbo groaned and flushed red at that, “You’ve made that extremely clear with your interview!”

The dirty blonde shrugged and didn’t seem at all unapologetic. Seeing that he was once again going nowhere with attempting to horribly scold Grian, he leaned down and apologetically pecked the man on the forehead. Grian visibly perked up at that and blinked at Mumbo like he was expecting more.

Mumbo didn’t give him more, simply rolled his eyes and turned to leave, “Redo the interview tomorrow and you can negotiate for more.”

“MUUUUUUUUUUMBOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Grian’s complaints fell to no one’s ears as Mumbo left the training room.

[ooooo-mcyt]

In case anyone didn't watch Ren's pov, I want to go through Ren killing Impulse from his perspective, since he very much did mislead Impulse about his role after the fact and I want to make it clear he was very much minimizing his own guilt here;

Ren, shortly after turning yellow, approached Skizz with the expressed purpose of getting a kill together. He's very quick to immediately suggest The Final Girls, "There's a whole pack of dark greens who are cowering away like cowards at the other side of the server..we should just go and kill them, bro!"

They approach Grian and Mumbo and once again Ren instantly makes the suggestion to target The Final Girls, "I propose we go out to the castle on the other side of the mountain, all the dark greens are there cowering away, like cowards I tell you! I want to destroy them, but we need a distraction!", which works out because Mumbo and Grian had already chosen them as good targets for Skizz.

Now, technically Grian is the one who makes the plan and gives Ren the cobwebs, which is why I say Ren was misleading Impulse when he later tries to make it out to be entirely Grian's fault, not lying to him.

Ren did very much mislead Impulse, though. "It was Grian's idea! Grian gave me the cobwebs! He came to me!" Ren insists when Impulse confronts him, very blatantly trying to shift blame and minimize his own involvement.

Impulse is also specifically upset that he was the one targeted, pointing out that he had fewer lives than other members of the group. Ren heavily implies this was Grian's idea too (although i'm not sure if that specific implication was entirely intentional on ren's part) when it very much was not. Grian's attack plan was never specifically targeted, Ren had the discretion in choosing to kill Impulse over anyone else in the group.

Ren very much (understandably) was trying to minimize his own blame in the situation to avoid retribution from Impulse, but it's very apparent watching Ren's pov that he was very willingly involved.

(*Someone in the comments pointed this out and I thought it was a good point so I wanted to add it here; Gem did specifically tell Ren to target Impulse and Pearl, so Ren very well could have been trying to protect her and their alliance by pinning the blame onto Grian exclusively)

[sirfrogsworth]

Stephen Shore is a famous photographer most noted for his work in the 1970s.

He is now an old man.

And sadly, he just yelled at a cloud.

As he was giving his lecture to a Chinese audience, he noticed many people on their phones. And he paused his lecture and said the following...

"Just before you ask that question – I’m gonna say something, and I apologize in advance because it’s gonna be rude. But it’s something [that’s been] on my mind as I experience the modern world. Since we’re talking about attention, I think we understand each other. And I think you understand the value of attending to daily life. I saw at least a dozen of you who spent the entire lecture looking at your phones. You’ve come here. You come here to hear a talk and you can’t even pay attention to who you’ve come to listen to. How can you pay attention to the food you eat, or the feel of the sun on your skin?"

He then walked off before finishing the lecture he agreed to.

But his audience wasn't actually distracted by their phones...

They were taking notes.

And I guess he wasn't used to having such a studious audience. He didn't even consider cultural differences or even people needing to translate things.

Personally, I'd see note-taking as a sign of respect, but I suppose he had no way of knowing what they were using their phones for.

Eventually he was told the audience was taking notes. He said he "felt better" about the situation. And that is where I feel he lost me. He didn't apologize. He didn't agree to redo the lecture. He just attended to his own feelings about the situation and didn't consider the audience that clearly wanted to learn from him.

Personally, I have a hard time connecting with Stephen's work.

And his portraits are all very... deer in headlights.

He just kinda blasts people in the face with a flash.

I think the only thing that saves these photos is the unfamiliar era and being shot on film.

I think the idea is to find beauty and art in the mundane. But I just see the mundane.

Though, plenty of people have trouble with my product photography for similar reasons. I love sculpting with light. I like seeing if I can take a jar of hair gel or nail clippers and make them beautiful and interesting just with fancy lighting. But so many people say it looks fake or like soulless CGI.

So maybe I don't have any room to speak about these mundane photos.

I guess it is the "craft vs art" spectrum.

There are people that only do technical photography. Like those Amazon product shots on white backgrounds. There is archival photography, archeological photography, and forensic photography. Private investigators use some very advanced telephoto techniques usually reserved for artistic bird photography to capture cheating partners.

There is no limit to how advanced and technical photography can get and often artistic intent is not involved.

But there are also purely artistic photographers that only learn the bare minimum to accomplish their aesthetic goals and just lean into the artistic message over the technical quality of the actual photos.

Like a guitarist only learning power chords.

Some photographers will even brag about how non-technical they are and wear it as a badge of honor—as if that makes them more authentic. They act like they are above learning that techie mumbo jumbo. Or they will claim they are too old to learn it.

Annie Leibovitz barely knows how modern cameras work. All of the lights are set for her. She has another photographer take test photos and once he has dialed in all of the settings, he hands her the camera and she presses the button. She knew her shit back in the days of film but she is more of an art director nowadays. I don't know if I could do what she does. I think she is still quite artistically skilled and often gets good results. But I just don't care for her attitude that she can't learn new things. As I get older I try very hard to make sure I don't fall into that mentality.

On the flip side, Ansel Adams built custom dark rooms with special equipment that he basically invented to help him develop or "photoshop" his film photography. He learned every technical detail that could fit in his brain so he could use it to elevate his photography.

But he also realized that you could be both technical and artistic. He blended art and craft so brilliantly and I think that is my sweet spot. When people take the time to figure out both aspects and don't lean too far one way or the other on that spectrum.

I just have trouble connecting with photography that is all art and no craft. I like seeing the effort and skill along with the beauty and vision. I like when someone does something I cannot yet do and gives me something to strive for in my own art. I like when photographers push their tools to do more interesting and creative things.

Richard Avedon was a famous photographer during the same era as Stephen Shore. And when I see his photos it tickles the "I love this" part of my brain.

[ See image descriptions and more of his work here ]

Not all of his work was very technical. He did a mix of studio work and candid portraiture. One of those photos is blurry and I still love it. But you can see the skill in every photo. The effort and experience and technical knowledge blended with the artistic intuition. He took photos of celebrities and just folks in the street. He also did photojournalism in mental hospitals.

I just find that a lot more compelling than a plant in the corner.

However, intellectually, I understand the plant in the corner is important. We cannot gatekeep art and put requirements on how it is created. My brain just has trouble appreciating that type of photography. Though I can imagine why someone would find it appealing.

That said, I'd definitely attend one of Stephen's lectures. And I guess I'd be sure to bring a notepad instead of a phone.

[blueishspace]

Hero Villain God 6

(Prev) (Next) (First)

Chapter 2

*Grian's pov*

It was Mumbo to suggest putting Ariana Griande online, something about the internet having more reach. He even offered to provide you with equipment... you know he's hoping to use your income to fund his villany... you don't really care for money but you find it weird he's investing so much on your "career", did the song you sang to him really entranced him that much?

Technically you know how it works, the internet is ripe for your domain. Phisically though? You are the god of chaos ...not technology and you never really cared to learn too much about it before this moment... You though it would be like making that meme of HotGuy but no... Video and Audio Editing is so extremely tedious.

You also finally build the persona of Ariana Griande, by telling Mumbo you are her you have limited your form to a variation of "Grian" ... Still you have fun with it and Mumbo looks like he's having a great time looking at her too.

Your first video as Ariana is nothing worth talking about, just the cover of soldier poet king that you have already sung to Mumbo a few days ago... It gets 5 views by the end of the day... You could push it along with a bit of divinity but that's not nearly as fun as letting the channel grow organically. You do get one comment: "Oh lord, your voice is divine!" which is very ironic... And amusing.

Your second Ariana Griande video is another cover, at this point an orginal song wouldn't make sense. It doesn't do much better but Mumbo seems to enjoy it... Perhaps you did put too much divinity in it because Mumbo takes a minute to recover after listening in... hopefully the effects will be less intense when viewing the video at a later date.

You distract yourself from the channel for a moment as Mumbo interrupts you. He is as anxious as ever and stumbles on his words but you can understand the gist of what he's trying to say. He's going somewhere and was wondering if you wanted to join in, you don't have much to do right now anyway so you easily accept.

The coffe shop he brings you is pretty small but it surely has a certain cosiness to it... It isn't that which attracts your attention though. There is a familiar presence here, you can feel it. Hotguy is here, what are the chances?

You get up under the excuse of going to the bathroom and walk toward the man that your divinity tells you is Hotguy... without his uniform yes, but it's him nonetheless. You approach and- he turns suddenly and accidentally spills his coffee on you...

...

...

..Calm down, Grian. Do not smite the mortal. Do not smite the mortal. Do not-

"Oh! I'm so so sorry! Are you ok?!"

"I- *breathe in breathe out* yes. Just didn't expect it"

And that is true, you didn't... somehow.

"Do you need something to clean yourself with-"

"No no, calm down, It's fine"

You say it to Hotguy as much as you say it to yourself...

"Are you sure -uh...?"

"It's... Grian" Then you remember about human identity, you are leaning. "... He/Him"

"Oh! Well Uh I'm so sorry about this Grian, uh wait, I should introduce myself too! I'm Scar! Uh- He/Him Nice to meet you... Well not nice since I dropped my coffee on you but-"

Oh you can't stay angry at him if he's going to act like that. You just can't.

"It's not your fault...and It's nice to meet you too"

This too isn't a lie, after all you still don't know how you managed to not notice the coffee was going to fall on you.

You turn to Mumbo, he must have seen what happened because he looks like he doesn't know wether he should get up and help or to stay in place and mind his own buisness...he's just kind of half standing?

You'll have to cut this meeting short but perhaps...

"I have to go now but if you really want to make it up to me you can buy me coffee sometime in the future"

You put your hand in your pocket and generate a piece of paper with your number on it. You then take it out and offer it to him before going back to Mumbo.

"Grian?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you fllirt with the guy who spilled coffee on you?"

Uh? Did you? You don't think so at least.

"I have no idea what you are talking about mister Mumbo Jumbolio"

"... That isn't my full name??"

"Are you sure?"

"Y-Yeah???"

"If you say so Mimbo Jimbo."

[skelleste]

2024 Art Summary

A selection of art from the past year. You can find a little about each image below.

Happy New Year (Again!)

Just like last time, it's time for another self-indulgent end-of-year post. A lot of things happened and unfortunately I don't feel that I made as much art as I did last year. I got bombarded with people asking me for art trades when I opened them last winter and I still haven't done most of them. I'm used to only a few randos that I mostly turn down requesting them, but having a bunch of friends ask all at once was a bit unexpected. If you're still waiting, I haven't forgotten and will make it eventually. Unfortunately I have the "I shouldn't draw for myself until I do my owed art" mentality most of the time and it just results in doing absolutely nothing because, quite frankly, I often don't want to draw other characters more than I want to draw my own. I'm going to have to be extremely selective about art trades going forward. I also moved this year for the first time ever, and that threw a big wrench in the works. The reason I moved so soon was because my insane sister was moving back in. She threatened to poop in my brother's bed (she's 22) and threatened both of us with violence and my parents were like "yeah that's fine". So uh, yeah, goodbye to living that sweet, sweet, chimpanzee lifestyle. All of that aside, I still made plenty of things, and I'll talk about a few of them here.

January

Some of the last comic panels I worked on before the art trade fiasco put working on the comic to a halt for almost a whole year. These are sketches, but the whole page is done now, of course. This was probably the most time-consuming panel so far, as I had to draw an indoor scene with 9 characters (technically 10 if you count Scott twice). I'm not sure if any of the panels that I have yet to work on will surpass this one in amount of time needed. There's a reason I made this one of the first scenes on the laundry list.

February

The first art trade. I had the pleasure of drawing Mumbo, Jumbo, Balder, and Dash for Chalkrub. I don't feel too great about the background, with its wonky perspective and odd colors, but everyone seems to like how it turned out anyway. It's my third most popular piece of art on this whole site as of writing this.

March

I made this for no reason other than I wanted to draw something edgy for edgy's sake. It had been a while since I made any art of this nature, and Ferdinand is my go to OC for it. My taste in art is not the same as what I draw. I make what I do because it's more about the enjoyment of the process than the aesthetic appeal of the final piece. When I focus on personal aesthetic appeal, I end up not drawing for 9 months at a time because I hate injuring my hand on inking all the time. So if you're some edgy artist and ever wondered why the fuck a cartoon shitposter extraordinaire follows you, there you go.

April

Another art trade, this time for 888goober888 on DeviantArt. A perfect example of a classic case of the eternal false promise "yeah I'll just finish this detail and then be done." And then there's 3,000 brushstrokes worth of individual grass blades. Tee hee.

May

This was a painting I started, and then put down because it was awful to work on, and then I picked it back up weeks later and finished it. The miseries I suffer for not trusting the process. It was a backburner project for a backburner project, which is the website. This painting is now the homepage background, ready to greet all visitors to my nonsense.

June

Commission for Porcumoose. I get the standard array of OC types in my commissions, because every client wants something different from the last. This time I felt very fortunate to draw something I personally like, and I this was my favorite commission from the whole year. This is my way of saying to the public at large "Please pay me to draw more spooky shit please please please".

July

Art Fight month again. I was planning on attempting longest chain with a friend, but he fell ill and we cancelled that plan. I decided to do a slow art year instead, which means fewer attacks with higher quality. My personal favorite from fighting for Team Stardust was this attack, Osireon (a fanmade eeveelution) for Sqveel. Thank you to everyone who attacked me! I always appreciate every single one. Next year is the big 10 year, and I plan on making it special.

August

August always begins with a week-long break from art for me, simply to rest after Art Fight. I also had a week-long vacation shortly thereafter, so half of my month was already spoken for. I had also started the process of moving and lost even more time to that. I can't recall exactly what all I made during then because it was very little, but one of them was certainly catgirl Maudlin. Here she is in all her glory.

September

This is when I moved, and I did not have access to the internet on my computer for a little while. I also spent much of my available drawing time working on a commission, so this was another month where I made very little for myself and cannot recall what little there was. Scatterbrain pineapple is going to teach you French while I jog my memory with blunt force and drywall.

October

Alright, now we're talking. On a whim I decided to participate in Goretober, because I couldn't stop thinking of stupid slapstick ideas and I thought someone scrolling through the tag and seeing this stupid shit randomly in the mix was funny. I was correct. I have one last prompt that I'll get to when I get to it, but aside from that one, this was my favorite drawing from the season. I think I've raised the bar on my own cursed content.

November

After Goretober, I took a break from regular drawing and leaned in favor of website progress. I made a handful of long-needed art assets, animated a custom cursor, created directories for future comic releases, and more. There is still much more to do, but a lot of the necessary code is sorted out.

December

Fuck those art trades (respectfully). I'll do them when I do them. I started working on the comic again for the first time since last February and I've already got a few more pages done. I don't really publicly talk about the comic very much, and yet I'll have random people take interest in the characters, the site, the prospect of a comic coming into existence, etc. and so I should really get on that. As much as the trades have been delayed, this is a project that was started much earlier and honestly could've been done by now if I didn't have to live for so long with people who are blasé about abusing each other. It needs to be completed.

These are just a small selection of my artworks throughout the past year. If you would like to see more, then you can peruse the blog. It's been my goal to get the comic done for the last two years, and we're going on year 3 now. Same old, same old. You'll see more art from me soon. I hope your new year is fruitful and full of peace. See you in 2025.

2023 || 2022

[ashenquill]

It's time to info dump about my character headcanons some moreeeee I love spreading my agenda on the internet hehe

Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo is one of those ambiguous types where you can't tell if he's actually a hybrid or not? Like, there's something a little bit... off about him. Something distinctly non-human. Also he's a really weird guy, which makes even less sense, because at this point hybrids are like 60% of the population, and nobody bats(ha) an eye at them anymore, so it's not like he needs to hide it. But he is, in fact, secretly a vampire. Or at least, he's 1/16th vampire or something like that. He just remembers this one guy named Vlad who he refused to believe was actually his great-grandpa because he's literally, like thirty? How on Earth would he have been old enough to father children with children with children? Mumbo started believing it when he saw him again ten years later and he hadn't changed in the slightest. Suddenly, the strict nobody open the curtains rule made a lot more sense.

Now, even though Mumbo is technically a vampire, his family is primarily human. The only reason they even have vampiric origins is because Great-grandpa Vlad got turned at the ripe age of 27, and wasn't about to abandon his wife over his new and very serious garlic allergy. She thought it was all one big prank he was pulling to get out of working on the farm, but after twenty years and seven kids, she realized that being a stay-at-home dad was definitely not taking the toll it should.

Mumbo and his immediate family have retained a few of the traits they inherited from Vlad, but it manifests in very mild coincidences. His mom is allergic to garlic and his dad has a strange Scarland-Princess-like affiliation with bats. Mumbo, meanwhile, really got the short end of the stick, as he can't expose his shoulders to sunlight without them miraculously burning (he's gone through more bottles of M-77 brand sunscreen than he'd care to quantify). Not to mention the insomnia! He'd be lucky to get two hours of sleep on an average night, and the fact that the only affect it really has on him is making his eyes look baggy is truly an injustice. Wasn't insomnia supposed to cause other serious health problems? How could he even complain about it if he wasn't constantly overtired? Rather inconvenient, that.

Don't ask my why I have so much lore for this guy when I don't even write him that often. It's just the Mumbo Jumbo allure, I guess

Here's some other fun facts:

Smells like iron/copper (metallic)

Book smart - special knowledge of redstone

Likes: cloud gazing, embroidery, old westerns/duels/guns, rubix cubes (only to look at though, bro can’t solve them for shit)

Dislikes: designing floor plans, social interaction, eye contact

Passions: philanthropy, travel

Habits/other details: Super fidgety like holy shit he never stops moving, picks at his nails and has lots of scabs & hangnails bc of it, he is littered with cuts and bruises of unknown origin, also usually covered in redstone & he mistakes his blood for it half the time, can’t tell if he’s ADHD, ASD, or both (deffo both)

Reactive to their environment - does not like to be around danger most of the time, would rather watch from afar, would rather not even watch tyvm, too bad he’s always a victim, #easytarget, your honor he’s just a wet cat

Special, plot-relevant skills: good w/ redstone, rich asf

Insomniac, also has RLS, always tired but it’s not very obvious, mostly just has dumb blonde moments, his intelligence would be 10% more if he actually slept, what the heck Vlad why'd you have to get bit by a vampire

[sulfuric-deity]

Hermitcraft Pokemon AU thoughts!

(If using this as reference please tag as 'Hc poke au' so I can see, also feel free to tag me :))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This has been haunting me for a while so I figured I would throw them here for some people to enjoy

Basically this region would have a gym for some types (the most i could fit), and the order is pre determined so each gym holds pokemon of a certain level. Once you get through all of them four are randomized to be your big trail at the end, with their real Pokemon.

The pokemon trial is a BIG DEAL needing to be signed up for and then selected as it is so intensive.

The main antagonist is an organization researching 'Sculk' who got infected :)

As well as an unusual myth that seems to be interested in a few of the members. The Watcher.

Now onto hermits and the rough order of gyms!

OTHER ROLES:

Rendog-

He is the host for the trails, the charming man who will guide you along your journey. However, somethings seems a little off about him...were his eyes always red? He is not infected with Sculk like the others think, instead The Watcher is using his eyes to gain information about its victims.

Xisuma-

Head pokemon professor, oversees all other branches of research as well as the trail. Elusive to the public, who has never seen his face, but close with the gym leaders as he is the one who calculates pokemon level for that year. Absolutely distraught at the appearance of Sculk, and values the safety of his friends over himself.

Cubfan-

An odd pokemon professor, researching the effects of pokemon moves on humans. He is considered odd, and many protest actually using people for his trails, but he is very careful and ensures consent. Was chosen to go and supervise the Sculk trials alongside the company to see if its harmful to people. (wink wink nudge nudge)

Mumbo-

The youngest pokemon professor, he focuses mostly on the evolution of pokemon and how and when it occurs. He is likely the professor you would see the most, interacting with gym leaders and Ren. When Xisuma begins to evacuate things, and Cub goes missing he is forced to run everything himself. On top of that, his close friend Grian goes missing. Absolutely crumbling under the pressure of the many tasks.

DocM-

The head of the organization researching the Sculk, he seems unaffected by the possession. (Until too late hehe) Cold on the outside, friendly on the inside he won favor of many gym leaders, even if the HEP and public are skeptical of his involvement. He is determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Cleo-

She is the head of HEP (Human, Environment, Pokemon) who focus on the human treatment of pokemon and the protection against pokemon rampages. They were tasked with monitoring the Sculk situation. With their 'no bs' attitude, you'd think they would have no friends with all the goofballs around, but its actually just a front for their pure sarcasm.

Joe Hills-

A member of HEP who came from distant lands, wont tell you exactly how or why but will spin fanciful tales of adventure. Actually under arrest for breaking pokemon out 'illegally' in his original region. Protected by HEP now, at least for a while.

XbCrafted-

A field expert HEP member, usually taking care of water based missions. He is close friends with Keralis and beef, often teasing that he could defeat their regular teams easy. During a mission to investigate Sculk along a beachfront, he goes MIA. He is eventually found stranded on an island with all his pokemon fainted, talking to a volleyball with Keralis's face on it. He is fearful of the man after being haunted by the small volleyball child.

Zedaph-

The last member of HEP, hard to spot and even harder to understand in a conversation. Smart enough to be offered a spot as a professor but denied it as he 'doesn't want his creativity limited.' Takes care of the technical aspects.

Gem-

Current Champion! Rumored to be Etho's sibling or otherwise related she takes great pride in her title. Known as GeminiSlay, her pokemon are ruthless, mostly tanks and quick attackers. She often worries about how the public compares her to Etho despite their obvious differences. She takes care of her gym leaders, but always looks for opportunities to drop in for surprise battles, especially with Pearl and Joel.

Grian-

Very close with Pearl, former water gym leader but retired the position to her after she defeated him. Now he takes joy in annoying the other gyms and assisting Mumbo is his research. Still an expectedly powerful trainer. Snail, marine biologist man, surprisingly smart. Goes mysteriously missing during the Sculk breakout, and is found stolen by one of the legendaries of the region (the Watcher.)

GYM LEADERS:

BdoubleO- Grass

Disgruntled about being the first gym leader faced, but takes great pride in wowing the trail-goers and being a difficult first challenge. He takes excellent care of his gym, and enjoys his trail. He claims to be the only Gym leader who defeated Etho. One of the longest standing leaders. During the Sculk infection, he helps to maintain a safe area and contact Etho for help.

Pearl- Water

Takes excellent care of her pokemon and it shows, they are fiercely loyal and in tune with her. Sometimes seeming to move as one entity. Admires Gem for her determination and skill, the pair have a joking rivalry. Also very close with Tango, she likes having the upper hand in battling. She pushes Tango to train his pokemon better against water types. She leads the search for Grian when he goes missing, facing off against the legendary by herself.

Tango- Fire

A bit hot-headed, he can sometimes gain a one track mind when it comes to his projects and forget about his responsibility as a gym leader. He created his own trail, and ensured it was as far from the scorching flames the trail-goers would expect (Decked out themed.) Close to Zedaph, and often helps in HEP contraptions. When his dungeon starts to gain a consciousness of its own, he is surprisingly delighted, even if it costs him possession.

Impulse- Rock

Stubborn, vengeful, and critical he relies on his combined Gym to help even out his flaws. Despite what he considers fatal flaws, he is intelligent, loyal, and protective of his friends which compliment his other half. Like earthquakes he is a powerhouse with his pokemon, often intimidating trail-goers. Although they are very quickly shown otherwise with his welcoming personality.

Skizz- Ground

Overly trusting, friendly, and slack he relies on his combined Gym to help even out his flaws. Impulse pushes him to grow and match his level, as well as not immediately giving up on a grudge. While he calms and grounds Impulse's intense energy. The pair make a deadly duo and are the trial-goers first introduction to the concept of double battles. Warm and welcoming he surprises a lot of people with his demeanor.

Scar- Normal

While normal types seem boring, Scar would adamantly disagree. They have very few weaknesses, and have the potential to learn to many moves outside of their type! A lover of all pokemon trail-goer expect scar to be easy, but are very wrong. His Persian, Jellie, is not as friendly as her trainer. Distraught by the loss of Grian he is incredibly frustrated he cant go to look for his friend due to his wheelchair.

Keralis- Bug

Wide eyed and not that competitive Keralis aims to just have a good time. He showers any trainer who makes it to his gym with compliments luring them into a false security. Despite not being competitive, he is ranked higher than the rest for a reason. Bug types are underrated. Keralis was terrified when XB goes missing, he completely closes his gym to go looking for his beloved princess.

Ijevin- Poison

Goopy spooky guy, takes great joy in being so relaxed and still absolutely destroying people. Stock up on poison heals and hope he's having a good day! He is also one of the original leaders, and has fallen into a comfortable groove and gained mad skills. Overall reliable, and sturdy.

Beef- Fighting

His bulky figure leads most people to believe he is a ruthless fighter, and while this is true, he also has a heart of gold. During XB's disappearance he too closes his gym, strong arming any authorities away as he searches for his friend. He is the one to first find XB, who is fearful of Keralis after being haunted by the ball man.

Hypno- Psychic

A slinking, cheeky figure. No one has ever seen his eyes, and it is rumored that he can brainwash people with his gaze. It is of course not entirely true, but he continues it as it tons of fun watching trial-goers squirm as he watches them. Close with Wels and Ijevin, who takes great pride in making fun of being super effective against his pokemon. One of the older gym leaders.

Welsknight- Steel

What better category for a knight? With speed and tactic he tears down those who get in his way. He takes pokemon battling very seriously, but only because the competitiveness brings him joy. If he wins or loses, he had an amazing time. Although it can be hard to tell, the glare he gives while focusing would make anyone nervous. He plays heavily into the knight bit, people are unsure if je truly believes it (he doesnt.) But...recently he seems a tad more aggressive. And was he always so fascinated with the colour red? The watcher has taken a particular interest in the knight, and is attempting to use him in much the same way as Ren.

(Joel) Smallishbeans-Dark

His sarcastic ease makes most trainers doubt his skills, and he takes great pleasure in watching their faces fall as they realize it is NOT an easy fight. He is not what you'd expect for the Dark element, and he enjoys using contrast to highlight the shadows rather than just cast everything into night. One of the newer Gym leaders, he insists Etho would not get past him in a pokemon battle, and has spent most of his carrer jokingly threatening the man, and trailing after him to beg for a battle.

False- Flying

The strongest of the gyms she is known as the 'Queen of hearts', as she often destroyed the dreams of those who dared to face her. She is the last hurdle before the final stretch, trainers often get sloppy now and she takes advantage of it. The longest reigning leader, she doesn't seem to want to retire anytime soon. Very close with Ren, but too busy to immediately notice his changes.... She is vital in helping drive off the Sculk, her powerful team helping to clear infected Pokemon and trainers.

Etho-

Former Champion, held the title for many years before willingly giving it over to his apprentice. He is many peoples spark for wanting to be a trainer, and he is still incredibly talented. (Despite Gem's boasting.) Now he wanders across the land to revisit friends and watch the youngsters train, until someone is able to make it to his newly established gym. Having a soft spot for ice types he took up maintaining a gym as hobby and to still enjoy battling hard-working trainers.

[clockwards]

the people demand lore of your fic!!!!! :D

fic lore fic lore!! for reference, here's the fic:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61166887

just going to dot point dump information so here you go! I'm also planning on writing a longer fic thats superhero AU based with some of these concepts, so look out for that :D

Every "smp" is a different timeline/universe, and they are all technically happening at the same time

Watchers are capable of "slipping" through these universes and experiencing them at will, while maintaining knowledge of the others

Grian, as a Watcher, sees people he likes and goes "you're with me now <3" and inflicts this power on them (without asking or telling)

Watchers are not evil, but their morals are skewed a little due to not seeing their people and deaths as final

When dead in any timeline, a character has their memory restored of all timelines. They are, technically, momentarily on the same level as a Watcher, but without the power to move into their other worlds. Similarly, they do not particularly care about death bc they are aware they will reawaken alive in another timeline (although they don't know that when alive)

"Slippage" refers to Gem’s knowledge and memory of her friends blending together over multiple universes (in this, mainly hermitcraft and wild life, but also some neutral worlds and a superhero one)

The water thing is about her base in hermitcraft s10!

Martyn as a Listener is aware of other timelines and can basically glean knowledge of them by listening into the communal stream of consciousness. He does not have a good time with this and pities Gem immensely for getting caught up in it all

Grian doing all this makes him basically the serial adopter of Watchers. You have no choice, you are Family now. This consists of himself, Gem, Cleo (i have my reasons), Jimmy (well not quite, but he's getting there), and Martyn as a kind of estranged cousin who does not want to come to family dinners

The red light at the top of the skyscraper is blinking at the rate of how many people have died so far. The third blink after her conversation with Martyn symbolises his death, and the nearly constant light at the end shows that everyone has died (bar Joel)

Deer Gem, mountain goat Joel (siblings), not-quite-avian-anymore Grian, moth Pearl, candlestick lookin' ass Tango, Etho is actually made of stone (homunculus type deal), extremely normal boy Martyn, bunny Lizzie

Important for you to know that a female rabbit and deer are both called a doe, so Joel fondly refers to his sister and his wife as his does (little guy standing between two very protective women)

Feel free to ask me any more specific questions!

And now you may have a bit I removed/changed for the ending

At the top of his dinky little tower, Gem watches as Grian prepares for a funeral. She’s not sure who died, but he doesn’t seem too upset about it, so she doesn’t ask. Sanctity of death, and all. He tosses clothes to the side, muttering to himself. Without his shirt, she can see the tattoo on his back, the skeletal remnants of his wings poking through the skin. She can tell where his hands would have to lay to line it all up, squares inked on his palms like supplication.

Next to her, Mumbo swings his legs like a child.

“Think he’ll say anything? He’ll be mad when he comes back if Grian doesn’t.”

“What, like a eulogy?”

“Yeah, you know, honour the dead.” He elbows her side, cracking a grin. She smiles back wryly.

“I don’t think you’re honorable at all, Mumbo.”

He laughs genially, mock-bowing as far as he can while sitting on a bed.

“Dead or alive,” she adds for good measure, lips twitching as his giggles taper off.

Grian’s got a black blazer on, shirt unbuttoned, no tie in sight. He’s running his hands through his hair, peering out the window every time he passes, as if he was expecting to see some parade of chaos happening way down below the skyscraper.

“Which are you, Gem?”

“I’m always honorable, you know that.”

The elevator dings brightly, and Grian runs in, somehow looking worse for wear every second.

“Not exactly what I was talking about, but sure.” Mumbo smiles at the closing doors. “Want to see who turns up and cries?”

“Nah.” The ceiling is blurring slightly. “I should go to bed.”

“Aren’t you already?”

Stone slips to hardwood. It blurs together every time she blinks, like she’s drunk, like she’s floating. She remembers dying like this, once.

She’ll do it again one day.

For now, she rests.

[aeriedwelling]

psst hi what smp series would you recommend someone watch if they're. not completely new but pretty much entirely out of the loop with mcyt? i keep seeing posts and its rrararrar and i wanna understand them

also bc. minecraf good /silly

hi hello !!!!

Depends on the sort of vibe you're going for I guess? I'll tell you about a bunch of the series i like and you can pick and choose what sounds interesting :D !! (it got really long so it's under the cut)

I had these at the bottom but im moving them to the top because i want you to watch them first. heart emoji.

These are some Non-SMPs that I watch!

Pixlriffs does the minecraft survival guide, which is basically just him teaching you how to play survival minecraft in java edition! he's really thorough and his tutorials are easy to understand and follow :3 i also just like listening to him talk so i put them on in the background sometimes if i don't wanna listen to empires for the . checks watch. eighth time.

There's Parkour Civilization which is just . a fucking. fever dream. it's so bad. it's so good. when you're done with the first one here's Parkour Civilization Two and PVP Civilization . thumbsup.

Whitepine. Is. So. Fucking. Cool. ivorycello made a period drama in minecraft. there's only four episodes and it's very pretty <33 that is all

//

now on to smps!!

//

Hermitcraft is the first one that comes to mind - it's a family friendly server with about 25 people on it! They're currently on season 10, but you don't have to watch any of the previous seasons to start watching!! It's just a buncha friends playing minecraft. good vibe :D

Some folks do Lore, others just kinda hang out and build. it's a very good time. I recommend Geminitay and Joel Smallishbeans, but if you don't like their vibe then here's a playlist with every single hermitcraft pov on it and you can jump around to whoever looks interesting!!

(I also watch Mumbo, Pearlescentmoon, Tango, and Skizz ! I'm not completely caught up but . yeag <33)

(also. season 8. is really short. and really good. and the moon may or may not be big but dw about that <3 /silly ohhh you wanna watch mumbo's season 8 soooo bad...)

//

Next series is the Life Series ! A handful of hermits and a few outside friends get together on a tiny little world and beat the shit out of each other. (half joking). it's hardcore with a twist, they have 3 lives. On green, it's a normal minecraft server where everyone is friends :) . on yellow they're in the uh oh zone !! and when they turn red they can start killing >:) . they get really dramatic with it and it spawned a lot of fun duos !! there's lots of discourse around winner symbols and shipping but you don't have to care about any of that you can just enjoy watching the silly goofy block people.

This one I would recommend watching in season order- it's a lot shorter than hermitcraft. the seasons are, in order: Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, then Wild Life.

once again i recommend Joel Smallishbeans! and once again here's a playlist with everyone's third life povs if you wanna jump around to whoever looks interesting! Grian, Scar, Martyn, and Ren all have really cool storylines :3 Martyn has lore that stretches across the entire life series which is pretty cool

//

Next is Empires !! it's about half the size of hermitcraft, with only 13 empires. Each player is a ruler of their own empire. there's established trades, and allies and enemies- there's a war about salmon and cod !! there's a wedding !! there's multiverse lore !! it's all really really cool !!

recommended povs . Pixlriffs (ohhh you wanna watch pix's empires soooo bad) and . you guessed it. Joel Smallishbeans! and once again a playlist with everyone's videos if you'd like to jump around :D Pearl and Gem are here too, and Fwhip is the guy who made it so his is a good pov to watch as well <3

there are two seasons and you can technically start with either so . yeag! i think season one is better but im trying to remain unbiased so coughs loudly who said that

//

THEN THERE'S SOS SMP which is like empires 3 !! kinda !! also by fwhip !!! it's another hardcore series with a twist- but the twist this time is that when you die you become a grave, and the other players can revive you with Fate Coins !! You get Fate Coins by doing advancements and the server challenges. It's a short term smp and im gonna say it's my favorite. SOS is REALLY GOOD.

i watched Pixlriffs here too ! and Mogswamp has really fun editing, and she just made a movie about the server :D and here's a playlist with everyone's povs again :3 shockingly enough i haven't actually watched joels sos pov sjldfksdj

//

OwengeJuice runs Rats SMP, which is a bunch of creators as little rats :D i've not finished either season but it's fun and cute and silly :3 first season they're in a mansion, second season they're in a hotel in paris! i think season 2 is still ongoing but i haven't caught up with it so i have no idea. o7

//

Pirates SMP is another one that I've seen a little bit of but not everything- they're all pirates ! there's factions! they do silly pirate things!

//

Then completely disconnected from any of these guys is Skyblock Kingdoms, which is a multiplayer skyblock server !! all of the players are divided up into kingdoms. they use wood as currency. there's cool lore and cool people. i watched every pov for a while so this one u will just have to jump around to see who you like sjdlfkj. (i like avid, doovid, ruby, vintage, and milkman if that helps at all!)

//

hopefully that's an alright start !! if you're drawn to like . specific fanart and want to know what's up with the fanart specifically then you can send it to me and i'll let you know what server it's for if you wanna start there :3

that is all thank u for letting me infodump. i can attempt to go more in depth with any and all of these if u would like <33

[blackboxtheater]

My Kink is Karma twoCartMIS

Pearl really hates chest monsters. But not as much as she really likes redstone sorting systems.

Pearl x Mumbo, established relationship, based on Mumbo's sorting system from episode 33 and 34

This is NSFW. You've been warned.

"Is that all the items?" Mumbo's voice echoed up from the caves below his base.

"That the last of them. I'm coming in!" Pearl called back, ducking into the massive network of redstone and minecarts that made up Mumbo's new item sorting system.

"Head to your right and watch the water streams," he called as Pearl turned into the caves.

She could barely make out his voice over the clatter or dispensers and minecarts, but it sounded optimistic.

She was optimistic about this test. Each round of adding items to the system went smoother than the last, and the chaotic, barely contained excitement in Mumbo's voice as he left her for the last round of testing made her believe they really may have fixed all the issues this time.

"Did it work?" she asked as Mumbo suddenly emerged in front of her, running along the other side of the water stream as items floated by between them.

"Yes! I mean I think so!" Mumbo shouted, and the almost frantic glint in his eye as he smiled at her made her want to believe.

"I just have to check the chests upstairs but I think it worked! I think we did it!" his voice followed him as he clamored up the steps two at a time, and Pearl did her best to keep her eyes on the items in the water stream rather than watch him run.

If it worked....

Pearl tried to temper her expectations. It had been a long day of testing and there might still be issues. They might still have to test the system again and again. But it was getting harder and harder to stay focused as she watched Mumbo explain and tinker and problem solve and troubleshoot.

She liked watching him work and she wanted to learn more about redstone this season. That was why she offered to come help finish his new sorting system. But she hadn't realize quite how much she liked watching him work until she was here, watching him roll up his sleeves and adjust more hopper settings. Or maybe it was about the fact that it was a sorting system, finally organizing everything so elegantly and neatly into his base.

Either way, Pearl had been fidgeting with a growing crackle of electricity and want inside her for the past few hours. And she just knew that feeling wasn't going to resolve itself until Mumbo's system was up and running. It would stay there, slowly building and building under her skin until Mumbo finally said the system was ready.

She needed to know if this brilliant, crazy, elegant, cacophonous system worked.

And if it worked....then she wasn't sure she could be held accountable for her actions.

"It worked!" The jubilant shouts thundered down the stairs just moments before Mumbo himself did, turning the corner and beaming at Pearl with an ecstatic smile.

Turns out it didn't matter if it was a redstone thing or a organization thing or a Mumbo thing. What mattered was that Mumbo was striding towards her, looking perfectly disheveled and radiating the confidence and satisfaction of finally getting this vision exactly right.

Pearl didn't even let him say anything else before she crashed into him, grabbed him and pressing her lips to his before he could continue.

"Pearl?" Mumbo's voice nearly cracked as she pushed him back until his legs finally hit the glass blocks surrounding the water streams. But she was too busy loosening his tie and working on the top buttons of his shirt to bother answering. But once she got enough undone to finally kiss down the side of his neck, she quickly dropped her hands to start making much more important progress on undoing his belt.

"Pearl, what are you- oh!"

"I told you," she murmured right into his ear. "That I wouldn't fuck you in this base until all those abominable chest monsters were gone."

"Technically, I mean technically Pearl, they are still out there. We've just got the sorting system set up we still need to, you know, we need to get them all loaded, and, um..."

Pearl couldn't control her grin as she watched him struggle to form a coherent thought as she stroked him. She pulled back just enough to watch him squeeze his eyes shut and brace himself against the blocks as his knees faltered the slightest bit under her touch.

"If we'd unloaded all your stuff, I would have had a chance to grab a potion for some lube as it passed by," she said with a final kiss pressed against his jaw. "But I didn't get a chance to do that cause all that stuff is still in your chest monster."

"No complaints! I'm not complaining! Really!" came out of him in a rush and Pearl almost laughed at the eagerness. It had taken a minute for his brain to piece together what was happening, but his body had gotten the memo much faster given how hard he was in her hand.

"That would have been a lot of planning if you did that," Mumbo continued to mumble through with his eyes pressed shut until they shot open in shock.

"Wait how long have you been planning this?" he asked before a second round of confusion plastered across his face when he registered the Pearl was no longer curled against his neck.

Instead, she shot him a smile from where she was kneeling in front of him, fingers splayed across the front of his thighs ready to pull his pants out of the way enough to finally get her mouth on him.

"Pearl!" He practically squeaked out as he looked down at her in front of him, his blush painting his face so red that she could see it even amid the flickering torchlight and glowing redstone lines.

"But I think I can manage without the potion if you want-"

"Yes. Jesus Pearl, yes," he said with a gasp, running a hand over his face and up through his hair.

Before he could change his mind, she slid her fingers into his boxers and pulled him out. She used one hand to grip his hip as he stumbled again, knees nearly buckling and hips pushing forwards when she finally got her mouth on him.

Pearl wouldn't say she had historically loved giving blow jobs, but there was something about how reactive Mumbo was that drew her back to them time and time again with him. The way he gasped and moaned as she drew her tongue around him. The way he knotted his fingers through his hair when she took him fully in her mouth and how his hips stuttered against her when she added just a bit more suction. Whenever they did anything else, all the delightful noises he made got captured in kisses and muffled against her skin. All his constant movement got redirected into touches that teased and traced over her. But when she had him like this, there was nothing to stifle those sounds and reactions, and Pearl could get addicted to those kinds of unrestrained reactions.

Or maybe she already was addicted if she was on her knees in the grass behind a man-made cliff, trying to focus on the sound of his broken rambling over the sound of rushing water and clattering minecarts.

"Pearl. Oh my god- that feels- you feel- Pearl, soon I'm gonna-"

She looked up at him, taking in his heaving chest and completely disheveled hair. His tie was nowhere to be found. And when he finally looked down to lock eyes with her, she made a muffled humming noise as she took all of him in her mouth one last time. Between the affirmation and the vibration, it was enough to finally send him over the edge. So with a shout and a white knuckled grip on the edge of the block behind him, Mumbo finally came as Pearl quickly swallowed down the last of it.

She pulled back, tucking him back inside his trousers before taking a moment to catch her breath as Mumbo did the same above her.

When she finally stood, unsteady as the blood rushed back into her legs, Mumbo pulled her into him. This time he properly kissed her, his mouth hot against hers as his fingers threaded through her hair.

"Why are your fingers wet?" Pearl said with a half delirious giggle as drops of cool water trickled down her cheek.

"Someone decided to pin me against a water stream. And you know I'm not graceful. So when I tried to not fall over, my hand may have fallen in the water once. Or more than once. I was a little distracted."

"I would hope you'd be distracted," she said, feeling Mumbo's smile pressed against her own as he tipped forward to kiss her again.

And it was a lazy kisses that distracted Pearl, because she wasn't expecting to suddenly feel Mumbo dip and grab the back of her thighs, tipping the world upside down as he threw her over his shoulder.

"Mumbo!" she shouted squirming against his grip as they started moving through the storage area.

"Yes Pearl?" He asked, not even attempting to hide traces of a laugh.

"What are you doing?"

"Well I figure if you just liked my storage system you would have just said so. You don't normally go down on me because you think my build is good. Though if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind-"

"Mumbo!" She tried to sound offended, but between the truth in that comment and the ridiculousness of getting carried though his base like this, she couldn't quite keep the giddy giggle out of her voice.

"Right. But you decided to do a little more than tell me, and apparently you were thinking about this long enough to be looking for lube in my test chests," Mumbo explained as she felt them start to ascend one of the staircases leading back up to the rest of his base.

"So I figured," Mumbo continued as the daylight suddenly hit Pearl's eyes when they stepped into one of his base buildings. "That if you were thinking about it for that long, and you liked my build that much, then maybe you were a little more affected than you've let on."

Suddenly the world tipped again and Pearl felt herself tumbling into a bed in the hollow shell of Big Ron's building. Any response Pearl had was lost as Mumbo crawled over her, pressing her into the mattress and kissing her with even more intent that before.

She got the remainder of the buttons on his shirt undone and was working to push it off his shoulders before his lips slid down to her neck.

"I think that's a good theory. How about you test it?" she offered, her mouth finally free to respond even as she gasped and arched up against him.

The only response she got was a laugh, but she could feel it through his lips against her neck and the rumble of his chest against her fingers. And when his hand finally left her side to move to undo her shorts, Pearl knew Mumbo was about to find out exactly how right he was about her reaction to his builds.

[fountainpenguin]

"She's gonna cut my head off... but I don't caaare! They say, 'You clean up nice... Just like a dead man! Like a dead man!'" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 42 - “Raider Reunion (Martyn, Etho, Impulse, BigB)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

“Hey, everybody! Welcome back. My name is Josh, and we’re glad to see you here. Pleasure to meet you. Mumbo; it’s been a while. Etho! I just saw your twin and niece. He’s good with kids. She’s… not.” You both know this guy? BigB tries to sneak a glance at either one of them, but the only response he gets is Mumbo’s shrug. “I’m BigB,” he tells the enderman, still focused on the man’s neck area more than on his face. “I don’t shake. I’m an illusioner underneath the moth mods; from knox ZnHeITtk HTvkH IkItn. What are you guys doing out here?” If his terse refusal to touch hands bothers Josh, he doesn’t show it. He does, however, break into a wider smile. “Well, thanks for joining us today. We’re setting up for one of my favorite games: Is There a Limit? Specifically… Is there a limit to how many people we can have waterskiing behind a dragon at the same time?” “… What’s waterskiing?”

Scott gave BigB until sunset to talk to his old raider friends. BigB didn't bring a clock.

Meanwhile, Impulse seeks help for his goo problem and Martyn breaks into Cleo's house. Just a typical day in New Star Station...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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InTheLittleWood

Location: Approaching wool farm, North New Star Station

🖤  🌕  🖤

Are you sure you can handle this? Every twitch in Martyn’s form screams at him to voice the question. Spikes and feathers twist inside his hearts. Nostrils flare. Maybe that’s why Bdubs blurts out his words without thinking them through: because keeping a shut jaw fills a guy with alligator wriggles. Technically, the proper way to sort out this lack of faith would be to take it to the sparring ring, but Martyn can’t do that either… Not with Rosejoy’s rippling muscles a hand’s breadth from his own. Hey, she has claim on the Fox Dragon’s turf. That can’t be an accident. And if it was, then it’d be just my luck that lightning strikes her twice.

“You did all right out there,” Martyn tells her, which is less direct than asking why she challenged Impulse in the first place. You think she knew she’d lose upfront? Huh. Maybe she gets drunk on the way people talk. They’ll have gossip and clip compilations for days.

Chunky fingers tighten around his own. Martyn looks down to the wobbly eyes of a much lower-XP phantom hybrid clinging to his hand. “What about me?”

“Aww, you too, slugger. You really showed Baker what-for. All tuckered out now, are we? Yeah…”

Lucky rubs a fist across his eye. It hides a yawn, but Martyn’s hearts spring forward like rabbits when the arrows come a’flyin’. The foxes he hatched would’ve liked to eat rabbit, actually. Martyn pats Lucky behind the shoulder, but throws a glance to Rosejoy to see if she caught what just happened there. And the stare she returns, uh… answers that question pretty dang well.

Sleepy kid. His energy’s dropping fast. The portals are still down, so there’s no dodging this by jumping AFK. We need more food. If Bdubs will listen long enough to follow orders-

“Aw, Lucky’s gonna love hanging with me,” Rosejoy butts in, thwapping him with the end of her tail. She caught Martyn on the way, which was probably the point.

And you’re sure? he wants to ask again. Lucky’s a member of the New Star flock; he’s never been alone with Rosejoy before. Mental ping after mental ping fires down Martyn’s spine. Rival captain bad. Rival captain take or kill. Brrr. That’ll wake you up in the morning. That’ll give you shivers all the way ‘til bed.

“So, what’s the big guy’s story?” Rosejoy asks, moving a few steps away. The shift of her wings and the grimace of his lips paint a picture Martyn only dares to imagine from the outside looking in: Two flock captains testing one another’s boundaries; they maintain a truce ‘cuz someone outside told them so. It sure ain’t instinct keeping the rules intact. She continues, bouncing every step. “Who would mod out of being a phantom with a wingspan like that? I bet wind resistance runs from him!”

Oh, it does. The glitter in her eye ripples Martyn to his core. The swing in her tail’s a little too lax for a guest who’s got everything to lose with raiders in her home. The soft smirk’s a little too wide. She doesn’t want to lead him aboveground… Does she? Will the Lone Spruce refugees even be allowed aboveground when the coast is clear? Unsure. And Martyn wonders then, with a quickening through his hearts… whether Impulse - if offered the chance to rejoin a flock - would actually say ‘Yes.’

I mean, I don’t see any reason Scott could refuse him, right? Impulse can fly. He’s got the wings, the strength, the speed… If the phantoms get to go, why wouldn’t he?

“Ah, just medical reasons,” he says anyway, clinging tighter to Lucky’s hand. “Nice guy. Just super pent-up, if you know what I mean. I just feel sorry for his wife. He can’t target anymore, y’know? There go the love hearts.”

“He can’t hunt?”

“Lost his soul teeth. We keep him fed.” We have a system. He’s with us. So back off. He can’t ascertain from her silence whether the implication came across, printed in his tone, but at least Rosejoy doesn’t press the topic harder. Seriously, she hovered around Impulse enough back there at the squall- Did you hear the stuff she asked him?

There should be enough souls left in storage to keep Lucky going. Martyn looked through the mess with Bdubs last night. Bdubs still has a few in his soul pouch, but whether he shares is anyone’s guess. Like Hels he will, Martyn gripes, because Bdubs already made his position quite clear when he caught Cleo offering a feed: That’s the captain’s job. And he’s not the captain.

Really, though? To refuse a kid? Technically Bdubs didn’t refuse Lucky, but Martyn’s not about to ask him to share. Not before exhausting all his options. And maybe not even then.

We prep the nest. I feed the kid. Simple, simple two-step plan. And if it comes to it, there will be no asking. It’ll be a demand straight from his mouth to Bdubs’ ears. And the boss better listen up if he knows what’s good for him.

Their first stop is for more blankets from the wool farm. Last night everyone was restless, off and on the roosting platform for hours. Martyn brought out the board games and Bdubs did a little improv show - a little open mic night - but the fewer souls they’ve got on hand, the more exhausted everyone will get. What’s wrong with a little cuddle pile? Aw, roosting’s such an effort. Nobody says that, but they could! And you don’t grow up to be Martyn InTheLittleWood unless you’ve learned to be prepared.

Mumbo used to compliment me on random stuff in my inventory. Cleo too, but this is Sad Times About Mumbo right now. Martyn is trying very, very hard not to think about Cleo. Just check the moon and her AFK status if you wanna take a crack at why.

“Lucky, keep your hands behind your back. You’ll spook the villagers, remember? They’ll run.”

“Okay.”

“That’s why I wear the hoodie,” Rosejoy says, keeping back. When Martyn shoots a glance at her, debating whether to shoo her even farther off (Because let’s be real, three approaching phantoms would get anyone’s hackles up, even if they’re on foot), she just smiles. “You go on and do your thing. I’m barracking for you.”

The villagers regard Rosejoy with way too much apprehension to approach the fence. Martyn can read it in their shoulders; not even Meriwo will get close, and it’s the village headman. Martyn pulls his hoodie sleeves over his hands and hops the fence the old-fashioned way. He can’t speak the villager language and New Star’s mobs sure as hell aren’t sparked, but he’ll find a way. He’ll use bold gestures with his arms.

“Oh, this’d be so much easier if they didn’t scramble off when they see sign language.” Or if I had BigB and Cleo out here.

❤️ Read on AO3

[mochiwrites]

secret husbands, mumbo chatting with scar, theyre just conversing about random things, its season 7 and mumbo has been trying to find parrots. scar is talking about how he would give mumbo some seeds but grian keeps stealing his crops. mumbo, offhandedly, "oh he gets like that when he wants some attention, ha, he probably wants u to give him some seeds" before promptly putting his foot into his mouth, face bright red "i mean- he - that was awful- not like that- i mean hes in love with you- i mean! no!" just digging his own hole, scars like ha that's funny. meanwhile mumbo is like. I've made the gravest error and grian will hate me forever I've shared his deepest darkest secret. he apologizes to grian thinking it'll be the end of their friendship FJDSFJ they're very silly

HELP ME. okay this is one of the older secret husbands asks I had saved because it was too good to pass up on—

the absolute difference between mumbo spiraling in “oh god grian is going to HATE me for this— I’ve messed up big time!!! this is the WORST thing I could’ve done!!!!” and scar just giggling because he has the mind of a 12 year old and he’s fully aware that grian is partially stealing his crops because he wants attention, but also because he needs the food

I’m always so amused over mumbo in this au. like he’s the one who technically reunited them but is CLUELESS about them being together. I think he should have multiple moments like this with them where he thinks he’s just shoved his foot in his mouth and outed them big time to each other. it’s funny to make him nervous /silly

this guy plays third wheel the most out of anyone (tied with bdubs ofc) and he thinks they’re just “best friends”

y’know that scene in s8 with the rocket ship? how scar only had the 4 trapdoors so grian had to squeeze in with mumbo? yeah he sees that happening here and is like “actually g, you can share with me :]” (yes this is mostly because he’s scared of losing grian in the void so he can preemptively hold onto him) (and maybe partially because he wants to be squeezing into one spot with grian)

and mumbo’s reaction??? “oh scar probably just wanted to share with grian because it’s easier for them to :)” like he just doesn’t put it together at ALL