#that mob will hate him forever and he'll deserve it

[scribefindegil]

just sitting here chewing on how Reigen tells Dimple, “If Mob finds out that you lied, he’s gonna hate you forever” and then immediately gets up and tells him the exact same lie i just

[fantasiasodapop]

Herobrine Headcanons

I... I like the idea of a Hero who doesn't hate the Nether, but instead embraces it, and is just kind of lonely.

He plays ball with the ghasts where you hit the flame charge and try to see how far it goes until it hits something, and he always goes far enough that he can't see it anymore and he'll cheer, laughing, "And the crowd goes wild!" only to turn around and see no one there, and that's when he remembers that there is no crowd, and he's all alone.

He loves playing tag with the Wither Skeletons, ducking and weaving through the stones as they race before he finally taps their shoulder with a "gotcha!" and they turn around and there's an ache in his heart as the skeleton rattles its bones in the only way it can communicate because they're long dead, their soul trapped in the sand, another mortal he couldn't save, and their voice is long gone, because he wasn't there to stop them from dying.

His visits to the Piglin Bastion are a welcome relief, alleviating the pain just a smidge as little children come up and give him hugs before he gives them little gold nuggets because "you guys deserve treasure too" and they run off, reminding him of the villagers on the surface, but that would make him their Iron Golem, and that hurts even more as he tries to ignore the fact that their numbers are smaller than last time.

It tears his soul in two to stand in the Warped Forests and remember his family, the people he lost to Notch and his awful words, but he can't stand staying away, and so he brings a book and reads aloud, pretending he's reading to Dinnerbone and Null as Jeb pauses his patrol nearby and Agnes smiles sweetly from her weaving spot, and Entity tries to hide the fact that he's listening because he totally is and they all know it, but now they're all gone and he reads to the trees and the stone.

Yes, he loves the Nether, has made it into his home with his little castle with the five guestrooms that will never be used and the shelves of books only he will ever read and the tables only he will ever sit at, halls never to be filled with conversation and laughter and life, for as much as his blaze and withered friends try they aren't alive, not really, they're just shadows of people long gone, and now he supposes he is too.

When he stands up from the throne his mob friends had made him, he walks to his bedroom to sob out his anguish and agony in the privacy of his little sanctuary.

Doomed to forever be alone.