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redorich · 3 years

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

Part 2 of this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Hermits seem taken aback.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #captain puffy #ethoslab #zedaphplays #impulsesv #tango tek #xisuma #bdubs #zombiecleo #falsesymmetry #iskall85 #joe hills #grian #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #me.cpp #me.txt

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cobble-stone · 3 years

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i can't believe i chose the mountains every time you chose the sea

*unfounds your found family* team BEST angst because well. as much as i love them i don't think there's gonna be a team BEST for much longer. enjoy.

i am not a writer why did i make this

ao3 link

Four stand in the walls of a castle built of snow, painted more of a pinkish hue in the sunrise. They are teammates, but they do not stand together.

Two stand side by side, arms resting on eachother's shoulders, using eachother as support. One of those two have danced with death twice too many.

One stands alone, he had fallen from practically unkillable all due to the others. Three lives lost saving so-called teammates. It wasn't worth it.

And the final stands alone, furthest from the rest, across a rocky line drawn ages before. Hair the same color of the blood that had spilled on the ground of where he died before.

"Give him a life, Etho." Tango had been used for his lives for weeks, demands of handing out fractions of his soul like candy. It was about time that someone else was the one to give up a piece of themselves instead.

Etho saw differently. Did his loyalty lie in a team that was starting to fracture at the seams, or in himself? He would answer himself, but his loyalty truly lied in neither. It lied in the metal band kept safe on a necklace, in the mossy scarf gifted to him by his closest friend. He would never admit to it, though. "No, not doing it."

"What do you mean- I gave up so many of my lives for Bdubs, and you won't even give up one for Skizz." How could Etho be so selfish. Tango had lost nearly every life he held last session- due to fucking Bdubs. Oh, how he wanted to throw his fists into that man's jaw until he looked like he had been dropped off the nether fortress ten times over.

"Hey, now don't bring me into this- this is your problem, not mine." He had done nothing but switch between red and yellow for the past two weeks, and he was tired. Tired of dealing with this bullshit, tired of the relentless anger that once flowed through his veins, and just straight up drained. The last thing that Bdubs wanted was to be dragged into the drama between his teammates.

Etho sighed, breath visible in the early morning fog. "I'm not doing it. We can get him a life from someone else, like I did with Scar that one time. But I need my life." A truth, but not the full extent. There was already countless targets on the back of the person next to him. His green name was insurance, a safety net to prevent the inevitable death of his best friend- his husband- for as long as possible.

"And we need Skizz back on this team- Do you even hear yourself right now Etho? You're being so fucking selfish." An ultimatum had to be made "If you don't give up a life, Skizz will be out of BEST, and so will I."

Silence, as the four stand together, waiting for a decision to be made.

And Etho would lie if he said the decision was instant. This team had grown to be something of a family, but last session the flaws had started to shine through. Was he really going to give up one of his few lives for a team that was so close to shattering? Especially if they may end up having to fight to the death regardless? A shield placed into the snow in front of him, one with a red painted E. "It was inevitable, this was always going to come to an end. Alliances don't last on this kind of server."

"What- Etho. Just give Skizz the goddamn life-" Bdubs protested.

"I've made my decision. I'm sorry Skizz." Etho looked over to him, whose face looked torn between anger and heartbreak.

And oh, how Skizz was. Team BEST was his team, these people were his family. How had it had all fallen apart so quickly? He trusted these people, it was supposed to be the four of them against the world, until the very end. And yet, the illusion of this so-called family unwound in front of his very eyes.

Tango blinked, but held back his rage. "Fine. Come on Skizz, they're not worth it." He looks over to Skizz, still frozen in place. He really was the glue that held us together, Tango thought. Without another word, Tango turned around and left, never even considering looking back.

Skizz did look back. Almost as if he was hopeful for a second chance, one that everyone knew he wouldn't receive. If he was any stronger he would have thrown his blade straight into Etho's chest, into Bdubs' as well for good measure, but he would never win against both at once.

"Why did you do that," in a voice even colder than the frigid air surrounding their home.

Etho didn't have an answer, not one he could bring himself to say, at least. It was leaving him on red or not being able to save you. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it fucking does, Etho. You just threw away everything because what- you didn't want to give up a life? Tango had a point- what if it was me? Huh? Would you have given it up for me?"

Etho was barely audible, despite the dead silence, "I would. That's why I didn't."

Silence sat between the two, growing more and more uncomfortable by the second. "I'm going to the nether, we need more blaze rods," and before Bdubs could say another word, Etho had left. The blaze rods were a lie, all he wanted was a place to be left alone. The burning flames and the stench of death was more peaceful than the deafening silence the two would have shared.

Bdubs stayed behind. How could one man be so smart yet so stupid, to not see how much he destroyed in one choice. He didn't need protecting, he didn't need Etho to stockpile lives for him in case he died and went back to red. He needed Etho to have reunited the team. Bdubs twisted the ring sat on his finger, debating taking it off for good. He didn't.

Across the world, another joined the group of red lives who resided on a bridge near a cliffside. They welcomed Skizz with open arms, but he didn't want to feel welcomed.

Elsewhere, a yellow name sits in the forest, having left the snowy walls far off in the distance. Shards of a broken shield burning made for better warmth than that so-called team ever did. He frowned at seeing the blue text of the hand-painted T burning away into smoke.

Four once stood in the snowy walls of a castle, four once called eachother teammates, friends, family, in a twisted sense of kinship was doomed from the start.

#last life #last life smp #ethoslab #bdouble0 #tangotek #skizzleman #team BEST #i apologize if this is ooc i wrote this at 1 am and i do not care #apollo please do not interact for my own mental stability #the hardest part of writing this was finding a goddamn title jdsgkjhds

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kozzax · 3 years

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so recently the folks over at @petrichormeraki have been working on a silent tommy au because of a few asks talking about mute!tommy. and one of the things that’s canon in that au is the fact that xisuma is the only mortal hermit. i took this as free reign to work out why each of the other hermits is immortal. some of them are gods, some of them are demigods, some of them are supernatural beings, but none of them (except xisuma) can be killed through feasible means.

because of the sheer amount of immortal hermits there just to live out immortality in peace, i like to think hermitcraft is sometimes referred to jokingly as ‘the retirement zone’ by other immortal beings. most mortals outside of hermitcraft wouldn’t know the hermits are all like... gods and shit.

hermits + their immortality under the cut because oh god this was supposed to be a fast post but i accidentally wrote... a lot. whoops!

Grian is a watcher. He was a watcher before he joined hermitcraft. That’s... just. Canon Grian Lore TM. Not much to explain with him.

Cleo and Joe are both immortal by virtue of no longer being capable of being mortal. As both of hem are undead beings (cleo a zombie and joe a ghost), killing them again isn’t... possible. In addition to this, at some point during their afterlife, they managed to gather enough power between the two of them to be labelled as the “Twin Gods of Life and Death”. Which one is life and which one is death? That depends on the day.

Cub and Scar are definitely not gods. But the deals the two made with the Vex are almost more of an insurance on their immortality. The Vex protect their ConVex as a dragon protects its hoard. Not only can the two of them hold their own in a fight, but their respawn is insured by the fact that even if they were to permadie, the Vex would bring them back anyways.

False is the Queen of Hearts, Heads, and Body Parts. She’s also a vampire. In a similar vein, Ren is a werewolf. Both of them can only be killed through very specific means, and neither can die of old age. Throughout their many years in the worlds, they’ve gathered tons of skills and allies. Although now they’ve both stepped down, content to enjoy their peaceful lives and chill out in Hermitcraft, each of them was once a ruler of their respective factions. The ‘queen’ part of False’s title was never just a title.

Etho was granted immortality by a council of gods, after they took a liking to his interesting antics and kept an eye on his longstanding worlds.

Doc, BDubs, Beef, and Etho (again) were all brought to Hermitcraft as the last ‘mortal’ members to join. The general idea was that maybe they could give Xisuma some company and relief from the antics of his immortal and godly friends. This did not happen. Instead, the universe decided it was going to give all of them godly powers in their own right. Etho himself may have been immortal, but he and the rest of the NHO all grew infinitely more powerful after leaving the jungle of season 5.

Stress is a dryad. She can control and warp the nature around her in strange and beautiful ways. In addition to this, were her body to ever get fully destroyed in a way that would prevent her from respawning, a new body would instead form for her out of the nature wherever she died. This is how ice queen stress came about in season 6.

Impulse actually bullshitted his own way into immortality. Where most of the other hermits were either brought into it by someone else or born into it, Impulse actually discovered the secret of immortality while he was trying to figure out how totems of undying were made. He now knows how to create totems and how to become immortal, though he won’t tell anyone else if they ask. Part of the process of creating totems involved...

...Tango, who is a demon. As a demon, his powerset includes but is not limited to both pyrokinesis and an affinity for very very large and very very deadly animals. He doesn’t use those abilities on Hermitcraft often, but they’re in his skillset for sure.

As a byproduct of the immortality, Zedaph showed up in the current timeline. His immortality is... strange, because it’s not technically immortality. Zedaph, as a person, is mortal and can die. Zedaph, as a being, though, is one of billions of Zedaphs in the universe; each of whom is nearly identical to the others; and whenever one Zedaph dies, he is replaced instantly with a new Zedaph; a functionally identical Zedaph to the one who died. Nobody’s quite sure how this process works, but Zed claims it’s through “time travel”.

Jevin, as a slime, can actually inhabit any portion of his slime that he wants; no matter how small the amount. Even if he were limited to one singular molecule of slime, he could still exist around that molecule and regenerate slime until he was fully present again, though it might take a little while for him to complete that process. The only way to kill Jevin is by fundamentally altering the chemical makeup of every single molecule of slime he’s ever had anywhere. It simply won’t happen. He does use his abilities to get out of conversations, if he’s feeling particularly annoyed at the time.

TFC is potentially one of the most interesting hermits, in his prior responsibilities. It’s easy to forget that he’s not mortal, considering how frighteningly average he acts in his day to day life. One peek into any of his bunkers, though, and you’re hit right in the face with a bold reminder. TFC used to be one of the gods responsible for shaping the very worlds players would walk on; more specifically, he was in charge of cave systems and mineshafts for a long time. He’s retired from that life and is having a lovely time in Hermitcraft, just vibing.

Wels gained his immortality through a deal with the patron god of the kingdom he grew up serving. He made this deal as a young knight and watched for decades as the kingdom grew and prospered, Wels himself known far and wide as quite probably the best warrior of them all. After being dismissed honorably by the kingdom, as he’d been protecting them for many decades now and the rulers honestly felt he deserved a break, the god he’d made a deal with finalized this immortality. He joined Hermitcraft not long after, and has taken up a spot doing his part to protect the hermits.

Iskall was somewhat of an enforcer, for the gods. Were a god to be acting particularly out of line, Iskall would be called in to bring them to the council for trial. Sometimes his targets came peacefully, sometimes he’d have to use force to bring them in. No matter what he had to do, there wasn’t a single target he missed. He both can and will kill a god if he must. Technically, Iskall’s still on call, but generally councils don’t call on him unless absolutely necessary anymore.

Hypno made a deal with a god many years ago, trading his mortality for the ability to see hundreds of thousands of alternate paths for the future. He wanted to chronicle them, and he still spends one or two days a week writing out winding paths of the future. When he’s not working, he wears his bandana to cover up the third eye that allows him this insight. This helps him focus on the now, rather than the futures that may or may not be.

Xb is an eldritch being with reality warping abilities. He has them under fairly good control, most of the time. They really only become an issue when he gets too much pent-up magical energy at once; examples of this being things like season changes. His season 7 base is built around what happens when he needs to release. It’s a post apocalypse world, and the apocalypse was him.

Mumbo is definitely both magical and immortal, but the specifics of his powers are incredibly unclear. The hermits know it has something to do with redstone, maybe, and that the unpredictability of Hermit Challenges are a reflection of his strange and confusing powerset, but nobody’s really sure where his immortality stems from. Every time you ask him he gives you a different answer. The mumbonis are all different joking theories as to where his powers came from.

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hermitcraftheadcanons · 3 years

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Scattered AU Masterpost Part 2 [COMPLETE]

Due to post length limit (which is apparently a thing), this AU has been split into two parts. Find Part 1 here!

Join the Discord server here!

Contributions:

- Mumbo has a pet ravager miscellaneous ideas: the ravager is actually a bit small as far as ravagers go. Once Mumbo leaves to go to the hermits, he doesnt take the ravager with him, for fear the environment wouldn't be right for it. However, the ravager follows him and Iskall, startling both when it comes running up to Mumbo. The ravager does not like any of the hermits, however it doesn't attack them because it can understand that Mumbo cares about them. - anonymous

- related to scattered au and "what if this happened to old hermits too" -- python's stuck in a death loop in a bastion (his spawn is right next to a piglin brute). he has no clue what's going on but by god, does he blame zloy - Anonymous

- Consider: Etho's mask protecting him from the flowers that gave Hypno so much trouble. - @/rayveewrites

- (Scattered AU) After Etho dies accidentally at the spawn haven, his spawn takes him to Xisuma. Xisuma is clinging to life when he gets there, and Etho only has time to grab his admin's arms and promise he'll be found before Xisuma passes away. Etho and Xisuma get a few hours together to work on getting Xisuma to the surface before Etho starves to death, and he's transported somewhere else. After that Etho makes it his mission to cycle through spawns as quickly as possible to help Xisuma and anyone else who is trapped in their spawn graveyard, no matter how much his legs start to fail him from the damage starting to linger from building into the sky and leaping off to respawn over and over. - @/petrichormeraki

- Some honorable mentions from my written summary for mumbo in the au: the illigers being terrified as he keeps coming back no matter how many times they kill him; he gets adopted by evoker; he fails at evoker magic, like so bad he cant even dye a sheep; the evoker being so done with mumbo that they beg the vex to give him magic; mumbo summoning scar when the vex get annoyed at how often he summons them, mumbo eventually summoning bdubs after scar's contract to mumbo runs out.... and so much more - @/therainofsweetmelody

- Moobloom!Hypno attracts bees - @/itsabork

- Not too long into his messenger journey, etho remembers what had happened to impulse by the time he, zed and tango had found him, which inspires him to try and die in a different way each time he sets off to find another hermit, partly to avoid becoming resiliant to certain death methods and partly for the challenge - Anonymous

- Because Doc hasn't died his death messages haven't been showing up in the chat. The other hermits don't know if he's even in the same world as them. - Anonymous

- (Scattered AU) More on the Mumbo accidentally summoning Scar thing; the summoning has "opened" the chat for them, but only between Mumbo and Scar. All evokers can call on their Vex, after all, so why not an evoker in more-or-less training? - @/petrichormeraki

- (alternate headcanon) There's so much discussion in the server, I wouldn't know where to start restating. However, I wanna mention one thing: scar spawning in xisuma's first spawn, deep in a geode down under ground. Being trapped in an endless death loop due to the warden lurking just outside the geode, forcing scar into the same loop xisuma had been trapped in so long ago. Not only does he have to deal with the separation from bdubs once they got out of the end, now he seemingly cant escape the warden's clutches.... - @/therainofsweetmelody

- Admins log who knows how long: I've finally managed to get my helmet some repairs with this I could get some plugins to start working hopefully. Considering the situation going on, I better not have derped to hard on this, not now. - Anonymous (singleplayer sleep now works)

- (Scattered AU) Because the code is glitchy for mob hermita, Jevin would spilt when injured too much. So while X and Jevin are trying to get to the surface, they encounter a dungeon or a mineshaft and Jevin gets fatally injured. X starts freaking out cause he doesent want to be alone again and he cant bear to watch Jevin die infront of him and risk getting lost and seperated and Jevin just splits, theres two Jevins now and X doesent know what to think of it.While there are two Jevins, their consienceness is split between the two and his motor skills are more sloppy and X notices and realises that Jevin loses more of himself the more he splits. So while he has a lower chance of losing Jevin to an unfortunate accident, Jevin slowly reverts to a slime the more be splits and the more be spends time as multiple entities. X worries that if Jevin splits for too long or too much, he might lose Jevin - @/itsabork

- The only portal to get out of Hels and into the overworld is an incredibly complex vault boarder line weapon built by Hels Doc and Hels Mumbo and the location of the portal is known only to a few and it changes every season. Now cue Helsknight and Wels sneaking all around Hels while trying to look for this basically impossible to find and get into way home. - anonymous

- It takes a while, but eventually those outside of hermitcraft start wondering why all the hermits collectively disappeared. Sure, they started a new world, and sure they’re usually more secluded, but it’s been months. Skizz wonders why he hasn’t heard from Impulse in a while. All the legates wonder where Python went. Everyone’s confused when none of the hermits turn up to the next MCC. Things get weirder when none of them sign up for the one after. -🟣

- Ok to add on to the daisy ravenger post, on his way to 0,0 Mumbo found spawn spawn, slo when he arrived everyone had him at sword point, expecting angry illiger noises they were surprised when they herd "GUYS IT'S ME!!" - Anonymous

(Note: Hermits at the haven currently include Joe, Beef, Hypno, Scar, Bdubs, TFC, Mumbo, and Iskall, in order of arrival. XB is en route, and Etho was there briefly before dying and respawning elsewhere.)

- Pix and Zloy would be the first to notice the hermits' absence. After all, they do a weekly show about them. Maybe they just decided to have a few weeks of downtime before moving to the next Season? Though surely it wouldn't take this long... - @/rayveewrites

- because im a legacy sucker, the legates would likely be the first to notice the hermits' disappearance. between zloy being on the server, skizz being part of zits and very close to impulse, pearl knowing a few hermits, plus python literally disappearing. what they'd do about it? no idea.to keep it more on the topic of hermits though, don't think about how devastated skizz would be to find out what impulse went through. don't think about it :) - anonymous

- Hello I have produced thoughts! I don’t have room for both so I’m sending 2 asks -when Iskall arrives at the mansion all of the illagers are wary; if one of mumbo’s friends are here then he must be leaving soon. Despite their initial feelings they’ve come to care about this idiot that wandered into their house, and they’re fully aware he has no survival instincts whatsoever, so when he does end up leaving they send a ravager to keep him (and his friends, they suppose) safe -@/haworthiaace

- so like... hear me out ok what if the reason the whole world is corrupting and weird and why a lot of people are like slowly turning into mobs is because maybe this is the way the game and the mobs are turning on the hermits for like making really inhumane farms or something like that and the mobs somehow messed with the code of the world to get revenge - anonymous

- Scattered AU!! Biffa spawned very concerned and on a beach. Where is he? How did he get here? Is he alone? Well one of his questions was answered quickly as he heard a constant buzzing sound come from his communicator, upon opening it he saw probably millions of death messages. He quickly realised this was probably supposed to be a new season of hermitcraft, but he didn't really have time to think about it, night was quickly approaching and he could already see drowned swimming towards him. - Anonymous

- How many times did X die to that Warden? Maybe he develops something to counteract the Warden’s sensors, or that his heartbeat slowed down to the point that his suit can barely pick it up (therefor making it harder for the Warden to track Xisuma down). -🦊

- Etho tried his best to fight the system and not get any new features from all his deaths. But, the game has its ways. Slowly, after every death he has, the less alive he comes back. (Undead!Etho, could be ghost, zombie variant, or skeleton variant) -@/harley-the-pancake

- Other hybrid characteristics Hypno gets of the moonbloom: His ears turn into golden cows ones, the horns grow in, he gets a tail, and little flowers grow though his hair and wrap around his horns. He can also grow flowers around him as long as he has dirt, but thankfully they dont do anything beyond smelling a lot stronger and smelling very nice (and maybe a bit of evoking certain reactions, but nothing beyond what normal flowers can do, ie lavender being calming, just a bit more intense) - anonymous

- Beetlejhost ended up in the world along with the hermits, spawning as if summoned: in the middle of a circle of beehives. His spawn is in the birch forest near the s8 spawn, and his presence spooks anyone who stumbles across him. He blends in concerningly well with the black and white of the forest. Beef feels like hes being watched whenever he goes in the birch forest to get supplies, but joe never notices a thing. He teases the hybrids about their changes, leading him to get swiftly decked- - @/therainofsweetmelody

- beetlejhost spawns in a circle of beehives in the birch forest near spawn. he thinks he's invis, in reality it's just his stripes making him blend into the birch trees. he can't leave the circle of bees, ah how wonderful it is to bee bee-tlejhost - @/justme123abz

- Beetlejhost doesn't mean to be mean, really, he just has really, really bad timing. This includes seeing a pollen-stained Hypno and, with his gravelly voice, immediately say "Woah! Someone had some fun in the sun! Tell me, did you spend a week rolling in dandilions or do you just like the color yellow?" This does not go over well - Anonymous

- Speaking of hybrids, Xisuma spawned in a Wardens den right? Well unlike the other hybrids, Xisuma has been changing too but its been slow. Every time he spawned back in that place, on the warped ground, he's changed. He doenst notice the dark starts to seem less dark, until noises get louder, until he's more sentive to it then he noticed, he gets stronger and breaking though the stone with his bare hands seems a bit easier, its not until he finds Jevin and he points out the glowing horns (1)peaking from his temples when his hair is pulled back hastily that he realizes that something has gone horribly wrong with him. Thankfully Jevin helps ground him before he can freak out, so he shelves it for later, once they're out of this cave. The warden that once was down by his spawn is no longer there btw, disappeared. The horns grow slowly, and soon glowing vein like markings appear as well. (2) - Anonymous

- Okay, Xisuma, we established he spawned in the deep dark, right? As time goes on he adapts to the dark. The skulk sensors grow on him. However as time goes on, they not only grow on him, but become a part of him. His footsteps quiet to near silence, and he can feel sounds. He certainly isn't how he was when he entered, at first glance he might even be mistaken for a warden. - Anonymous

- Tango is the only hermit other than Mumbo Daisy kind of likes. Tango thinks Daisy is absolutely adorable, and Daisy does like the positive attention(and the treats). - Anonymous

- When tango meets mumbo’s pet ravager he loses his mind, he tried so hard to get the decked out ravagers to like him and then mumbo just waltzes in riding on one of the things! He ends up hanging around her a lot and eventually forms some sort of relationship, although not as close as he would like (he also gets a little more sympathetic once he sees the effects the evokers had on mumbo, he figures the guy earned a pet ravager) - @/haworthiaace

(Hermits now at the spawn haven, in order of arrival: Joe, Beef, Hypno, Scar, Bdubs, TFC, Mumbo, Iskall, Tango, Impulse, Zedaph. XB is en route, Wels and Hels are traveling through Hels to get there, Ren, Doc, and Grian are attempting to get there but their success has been limited so far)

- Scattered!AU: Idea that Ex is the ONLY one that knows what is going on and how to fix it perhaps (maybe 'cause of having been banished to the void for so long)? That's why he's trying to find X. - Anonymous

- Admins log: day 1006: Me and Jevin finally see sunlight, and I've managed to get the clock function on my helmet working, finally. As we're on our way to the surface, I only hope that I can find someone or something to help guide us to where we need to go, but unfortunately I've lost all signal to chat, and I think we're next to a woodland mansion. I think I've derped up this time.

- Dear Xisuma, if you see this message then the log is working, also fixed the clock in your helmet it's been 50 days, not 1005. I was about to leave with Iskall when I noticed you and Jevin outside with a few, erm, "buddies" of mine you two where passed out and I managed to stop them from killing you with Daisy, my pet ravenger. I'll explain everything later and spawns in the village are working, finally. I recommend not moving much and work on the data packs for a bit before you do anything elseExplanation log to Xisuma part 2: Sorry if the last one got cut off abruptly, apparently there's a limit to these messages. Any way please take care of yourself. Sincerely, your pal Mumbo Jumbo

- Admins log, day 51: I first want to say thank you Mumbo for bringing me up to speed and explaining why and how me and Jevin are here, next I want to say that these logs may slow down for a bit, I'll be working on some maintenance for some packs. I still don't know why this is happening, I now hope this is a wicked nightmare and not our reality. Hang on I see something over there it looks like, wait let me ju- Voice logs are off for the moment.

- all one anon

- mooblooms spread the flowers that enraptured hypno. now that hypno is a moobloom hybrid, he can make people "hypnotizd"! he doesnt like to, but if the spawn ever gets attacked, the hermits are winning easily. - anonymous

- I like to think that at some point when there's a significant number of healthy hermits at 0,0 they start group searches to find the rest of hermits - anonymous

- After awhile, if they can't change the spawn of everyone, they begin securing all the spawn points to everyone, so if their bed is ever destroyed in the future, they won't end up in a death loop again. They secure the death loop spawn points first. - @/ciaravixen

- For undead Etho: I know that ghasts aren't technically undead mobs, but they're basically ghosts and that's what I feel etho is becoming?He's leaving his mortality behind bit by bit as he ceases to care about death and starts to use it as a tool instead.One day he'll respawn without a body at all - @/draconic-dreams

- This is just a thought. Sand cant be good for Iskall's mechanical parts, and its not like he has anything to fix it. Does he have to wait to find doc to be able to have hope of fixing himself? - anonymous

- Jellie had spawned in the village that cub and xb had come across, so when xb heads to 0,0 he takes her with him (she'd be safer in the overworld than in the end, after all). Its quite a long journey, and she makes for good company. -@/supertiny-tins

- Grian, Doc, and Ren fianlly start heading out to 0,0. Its a long journey, they decide in the end to leave their beds behind at the cabin in case any of them die so none of them end back at their orginal spawns. they would of just made new beds every time but the lack of suplies and resources near by has been low oddly enough. Doc manages to push aside most of his fears to help Grian and Ren, who are weaker, but he keeps his distance whenever he can. They make many hastily built huts as they go 1most nights are spent sleeping on hard ground, later straight up blocks of wool they find but not beds, just wool is better then ground, and it doesn't do the weaker hermits any favors but it works. There are many close calls, but they manage to avoid death, mostly due to Doc. Along the way they start to find signs of other players, coble in places it shouldn't, a rare torch, half mined trees, but no hermits. They still have a way to go, but they're getting closer to the others and safety. 2 - anonymous

- Etho once found himself spawning in the middle of an ocean with nothing and no one in sight except of course... A faint trail of lights dancing beneath the waves... Pulsing and glimmering, almost in a rhythm, something so fascinating, so... So... He was meant to be doing something...? It was... Important... At least... It might have been... It's all.. Kinda hazy... It couldn't have been more important than the lights, nothing was more important than the lights... They were so beautiful... He could watch them all day... Etho never noticed how he slipped beneath the waves, nor how the glow squid's glittering eyes had turned upon him, coiling a tentacle around his waist as it dragged its prey deep into the depths, his eyes hazed with green, he never even noticed his lungs burning for air.And he never remembered drowning after he respawned. - anonymous

- Impulse actually punches through the Nether roof so they can traverse more safely to coordinates given to them by Etho. They leave trails of blocks so they can make their way back, of course. - @/rayveewrites

(Evil X is now hiding out in a cave near spawn)

- Shattered!AU: I see everyone's Warden!Xisuma heacannons and I give you Axolotl!Xisuma. Think about it he's been hanging around with them and Jevin in the lush caves so maybe he's becoming more like them. (Frills, a more pink-ish tint to his skin, the ability to breathe underwater, etc.) :D (Is this because the thought of him having Warden traits is terrifying to me? Maybe. Is it because I think he deserves to become something not scary after his whole ordeal in the Deep Dark? Yes.) - anonymous

- Ever since getting out of the loop, Impulse has had a horrible inner conflict between his guardian side being instinctually drawn to the water, and his human brain being deeply terrified of ever being submerged again. - @/asexualbert

- Because I absolutely adore Daisy, more headcannons for Daisy.Daisy will occasionally just pick Mumbo up gently with her horns when she thinks she isn't getting enough attention. Daisy has a bell collar, because she kept scaring hermits by following Mumbo silently. Daisy is more okay with Iskall than most other hermits, though still doesn't really like him. - anonymous

- Though I'm a sucker for angst, what if Impulse was saved by a dolphin pod or something instead of transforming into a hybrid (or after transforming if Guardian!Impulse is cannon). :3 I can picture dolphins don't take kindly to the Guardian Mobs, might even find them as prey if anything since they're fish. (Guardian!Impulse wouldn't count since they're smart enough creatures to tell the difference.) - anonymous

- Prob a bit early for epilogue stuff but I like to think that, once all the glitches are fixed, that those that became hybrids and would prefer to be back to normal get changed back. - anonymous

(Shade note: Personally, I'm a sucker for stories where the characters adjust and learn to live with the unexpected changes to themselves rather than having them magically fixed, but this option is certainly still here for the people who find it appealing)

- For the scattered au, after the numerous frozen deaths Grian's gone through he starts hearing voices from the snow, even from within Ren's cabin. A snow golem forms after a wandering trader drops a pumpkin and watches from outside the cabin, deciding to guard the place after taking a liking to Grian and Ren. - anonymous

- When Etho became fully ghost, it hit hard. BeetleJhost saw this, and after a while decided to teach him how to show his form and speak. It takes a lot out of him, but it’s worth it. His friends deserve that closure. (Listen, I was expecting angst, I just wasn’t expecting that much angst.) - @/harley-the-pancake

- Mod Shade, I want you to know that angsting ghost!Etho that hard was entirely on you. I was picturing him clipping through blocks and dropping items at inconvenient points, not fading out of existence entirely. - @/draconic-dreams

- Possible explanation for everything going on in Scattered:Players were never supposed to be so powerful; in the natural state of Minecraft they're just another mob, albiet one that can craft and use any tool.But the Players weren't satisfied with that. Everyone from the admin of the smallest server to the mythological ‘dev team’ has been imposing little changes on the world since its inception, slowly tweaking it into a better environment for Player-kind.A single spawn at the world's centre. The ability of Players to chat from one end of the world to another -- even across different worlds. Even natural regeneration, an ability unique to the rarest and most powerful of mobs. As time marched on, Players not only unlocked these things but began to take them for granted, drawing far away from the behaviour of normal mobs. This became normal. Players continued to create datapacks and run commands that tweaked the very nature of the world. -@/draconic-dreams

(Shade note: Perhaps it was just a random glitch, one fundamental line of code removed to shift the balance of power. Or maybe it was orchestrated, but by who and for what purpose? Either way, it will take the Hermits a while to realize this, and even longer to fix it...if they can at all.)

- Jessasin spawned in a mesa biome, of course he's confused on how he got there and why he's in this random vanilla world and not his usual modded world, but both questions got pushed aside when the death messeges arrive. He exploared the area gathering as much recourses as he can and goes off too find someone, anyone really. - @/ghan-does-things

- hello! I discovered the scattered au literally yesterday so sorry if this is something that has already been gone over but I had an idea about bdubs, what if his constant exposure to the void and surviving on nothing but chorus fruit for who knows how long made him slightly enderman-y? 1/2 (sorry, couldn't fit the whole thing in one ask)Like nothing obvious at first, but making eye contact makes him agitated and snappy, touching water makes his skin tingle and if you look at him in the dark his eyes seem to have a very faint pink/purple glow about them? Maybe the other hermits swear he's taller than he was the last time they saw him? And the tips of his fingers are blackened, he assumes due to frostbite, but it seems to gradually be making it's way further up his hands? again sorry if this has been gone over already 2/2 - @/plantichu

- Okay so after Welsknight and Helsknight manage to get past the crazy vault door in Hels, not sure how but it probably involved a lot of cussing on Hels part and Wels saying that he never wanted to look at redstone ever again. The portal takes them to the overworld near Xisuma and Jevin. - anonymous

- (scattered au) The first set of non hermits to join this corrupt world are two strangers that apparently came from infinity's grasp. The good news they both spawned at spawn, bad news the brought the tnt duper flying machines, good news that everyone was able to calm them both down. Now the fun begins. Tldr Illmango and Methodz finally get out of the infinity portal. - anonymous

- Loving the Scattered AU. Late to the party, but was looking at the wider MC community reaction to the Hermits vanishing. Once it's clear something bad's happened, would the Legacy crew and whoever else (former Evo squad members like Martyn and Jimmy as well, if they notice Grian go dark) take steps to find out what happened? Would they go to the MCC server (it's kind of a nexus between worlds) & get Noxcrew to try "pinging" the HC server? Would X & other admins see it but be unable to respond? - @/wixelt

- I dont know if anyone has mentioned it but uhhhh, guardian xb? he was a guardian hybrid before everyone got scattered like Ren was already a wolf/dog hybrid. iirc xb spawned in a desert which would be a very interesting place for a guardian hybrid to spawn - anonymous

- Etho has been so, so desperate to avoid dying the same way twice, to stay himself. He hasn't drowned that many times, he thinks. Surely, surely he's starved more often? There's a strange feeling of deja vu hanging over him when he respawns in the ocean, though he can never understand why. Each time the squid finds him, he drowns a little slower, and each time, he glows a little stronger.And he just can't understand, almost refuses to, as he treks from biome to biome, where the small green bumps that line his arms and face came from, how his fingertips seem to almost glow when he scoops a handful of water, how long he finds himself simply staring… at the moon, at sea lanterns, at torches, at lights… He would die a different way every time. He had to. He had to stay Etho. He would not become anything else. - Anonymous

- When Mumbo comes riding into camp on Daisy, it’s easy to see Impulse is not happy about the ravager being there. That’s expected, it’s not exactly everyone’s favorite mob to see around a safe haven. But when Mumbo and Impulse make eye contact, the evoker can’t help but make a simple warding gesture his friends at the mansion taught him- it’s a reflex move. Days later, Mumbo still isn’t sure if Impulse flinched because of Daisy’s sudden growl or his ward. - @/fluffy-papaya

- (From the Discord) What happened to the world: For years, seeds and the land they built had been carefully curated by those known as players, in an effort to make it both easier and more interesting for themselves. But the land doesnt want to be controlled. Their glitched, broken world is a result of the world itself rioting against their presence. Coordinates aren't visible with the debug screen, their coms only serve the world, to tell the players what it knows. Compasses spin wildly in the overworld, for there is no "world spawn" (though coordinates are visible with one in hand. Small mercies are still given). The world resists any further changes by the simple fact it refuses to accept what a hermit communicates. Maybe it's fixable, but maybe... maybe it runs deeper than just their world. (The Legates caused a lot of damage with all those withers, after all.) - @/basaltdragon

- While Iskall is in the desert, he ends up dying quite a few times, enough to adapt, he becomes like a stray, so now, if we have skeleton Etho, we have 3 undead hermits - anonymous

- When everyone is finally gathered and they manage to come together to use all their skills, new and old, the hermits use it to flee back to Season 7. They stay there for months, mostly to heal and adjust to what happened to them. (Trauma isn't easy) Those who have friends or family off server get invited to visit, but the hermits don't leave, they nearly lost each other and they aren't willing to risk it again right now. They'll make a new season 8 at some point, the hermits are too (1/3)restless and too ingrained in their ways to completely disregard how they've always done things, but that will come when they feel better, safer, more put together, when they can finally stop sleeping in a big pile becuase they're afraid the others will disappear. They never go back to that old glitched world, the idea makes them sick, and X starts the new practice of sending in the 'Cam' and/or 'alt' accounts in first to check out the world and set up commands and plugins remotely first. (2/3) What happened before will never, ever happen again he swears it. Next time they might not be so lucky after all [if you can call them all being traumatized, many of them dying over and over again, some being permanently altered, and barely escaping lucky] (also feel free to save these asks for near the end of the au!) (3/3) - anonymous (Shade note: I personally like the idea of them fixing and learning to live in the glitched-out world, but this is another alternate ending!)

- (From the Discord) What happened to the world: Alternatively, what happened is exclusive to their world. (I don't have Dramatic Storytelling for this one, sorry) EX has ADHD to the max, and everything he does is a desperate attempt to get Noticed, to get looked up to and listened to. He's known it was "wrong" for a while, hence why he took X's name and added "Evil", but he never seriously wanted them to hurt. Just to listen to him. He'd meant to come in and fix it all and finally be a hero. He didn't realize, either through haste or inexperience, that he too would be at the mercy of what he'd done.Maybe he does, eventually, make it to where the hermits have gathered. But does he really want to admit everything? (RSD had burned him before, and if there ever was something to place the blame on his head...) - @/basaltdragon

- lasting effects of deaths

- a large amount of assorted ideas

- The bell they put on Daisy was originally of the type that are put on cats, but Grian ended up switching it out with a cowbell because he hated the sound - anonymous

- False, Keralis, Cleo, and Stress make it to spawn, bedraggled and exhausted. Out of all the Hermits, they are some of the last to arrive. Along the way, they’ve encountered trials innumerable that have left them beaten and bruised, but after months of travel, they’ve finally made it.Shortly after leaving the Moobloom field, they came upon an abandoned cart in the middle of a desolate village. With some of the redstone they had found and whatever magic they managed to scrape up, they turned it into a sort of vehicle that allowed them to travel much faster. It had a habit of breaking every six seconds or so, but nothing they couldn’t fix. For the most part. A few accidental combustions aside, they crossed the server in record time.Once at spawn, False has to be forcibly restrained from immediately starting guard duty, and several of the Hermits have to physically wrestle her into a bed in order for her to get some rest. Stress starts up a potion factory the next day, and also starts decorating the spawn with the flowers she’s collected during their travels. Keralis helps out wherever he’s needed, but in his downtime, he constructs an elaborate warren of tastefully decorated, industrial tunnels under the spawn, just in case they might help. Cleo mostly just stays in bed, creating elaborate dioramas and mourning the loss of her zombie side. She’ll get better, but it’ll take some time. And that’s ok with the rest of them. - @/topazastral

- When Doc, Grian, and Ren finally make it to 0,0 there is no fanfare, no dramtic entrance, no revulation. They were travling and suddnly, there was a base, a hermitcraft base, and they could see people. Grian clambers to feet shakily from the shed, nearly falling but Doc and Ren catch him and toghther they help him walk foward and call out to their friends. They are safe now, they're here- Is that mumbo on a ravager what the hell? Wait thats Impluse? Seems like Grian wasnt the only one changed. - anonymous

- Jellie reacting to vex!scar headcanons -she recognises him instantly. The moment she and xb arrive at spawn she darts straight towards him. Of course, she cant figure out why he looks different, but regardless, thats her owner and she demands pets!!!-sometimes she will jump up and try to pounce on his vex wings, because shiny moving thing! Scar picked up on this very quickly and will move out of the way before she gets the chance (vex wings are rather delicate and a pain to get fixed)-whe she's bored, she will always go to mumbo and daisy for attention first. This makes scar rather jealous and she knows that damn well-Scar will sometimes pick her up and fly her around not too far from spawn for a few minutes. Nothing she isnt used to, as he flys with the elytra all the time, but something about flying with vex magic just feels... different. And fun! - anonymous

- Contrary to the enderman bdubs, ender dragon bdubs. His eyes aren't the normal brown, and are instead a bright magenta, he also now has ashen gray horns. - Anonymous

- Scattered AU: The intended world "theme" Xisuma had set up for Season 8 was Large Biomes. This was before anyone knew something was going to go wrong, of course, but it's had a horrible lasting effect in the glitched world. Not everywhere has generated as "large", so when Hermits are travelling they'll sometimes find normal sized biomes, and other times they'll find one biomes that stretches an abnormal distance in all directions. Grian and Doc's mountain range is one of these large biomes. - @/wixelt

- For the scattered au, the snow golem follows Grian and Ren (and Doc) to the spawn haven, for a few days the hermits are wondering what's leaving behind snow trails and zombie flesh, so they decide to have a night watch around this area. Ren volunteered and waited, half-asleep he nearly nearly gets hit with a arrow when he hears the sound of a skeleton getting hurt. He sees the snow golem and uses his sword to kill the skeleton. The snow golem tries to flee but Ren realizes and stops it (1/2)He welcomes the snow golem and introduces it to Grian and Doc, (where the snow golem warns him that it is keeping its eyes on him in its own language). Spooked, Grian tells them that he can understand it, and the golem tells him that he's been following them since their time at the mountain. They decide to give it the name Catmint and it helps guard the hermit's base at night (while giving a stern look at Doc every now and then.(2/2) - anonymous

- (Scattered au)Seeing as we now have 3 different variations of Etho, I raise you: all 3 at once. It turns out Etho was not in fact human, instead a shapeshifter who didn't know that he was, the deaths simply sped up the process, whereas before, while he would change slightly, it was never fast enough to be noticeable - Anonymous

- I had this idea some time ago actually but I thought it was silly but now that the au in ending might as well say it. It doesn't make much sense now with all the new development srry. What if one day Mumbo was callibrating his comunication monstrosity, and suddenly his communicator had signal. He called and called but whoever was a the other side didn't pick up, until they did and Mumbo was overjoyed, but the happiness died down when he could only hear chocked sobs and sharp breathing and (1)teeth chattering. Suddenly a voice whispered, little and fragile "h-h-he-lp". Mumbo knew that voice too well. Before he could even open his mouth to let his best friend he was coming for him, he'd be okay, anything, the breathing stopped. The call was still going, but no one was at the other side anymore, Mumbo hung up with tears in his eyes, and he swore he'd find him and he'd help him. (2) - anonymous

- Scattered AU: While there's still time for them: Mumbo was the furthest Hermit out in the Overworld, & didn't set off for over a year, yet wasn't last to 0,0 (with Iskall) by any stretch. More than half the Hermits seemed to arrive after him. This can be partly attributed to Daisy making good time, but it makes you wonder how many trials & tribulations impeded False, Stress, Cleo and Keralis along the way? How much Ren, Doc & Grian were slowed by Grian's condition? What took xB or Biffa so long? - @/wixelt

- Once everyone finds each other, at the world spawn, after the initial shock, and fixing of the world of course, the hermits all decide to settle much closer to each other. They were separated for quite a while, so it makes sense why they'd decide to keep close. Some groups also make shared bases. - anonymous

- I sort of want grian to be a bit more inhuman so how about grian’s skin on his arms, legs and most of his face permanently blackened by the severe frostbite and the rest of his skin has taken on a bluish tinge, his hair is no longer the Gold it was before but almost snow white with a tinge of dark and light blue, his ears and tail are snow white with what appears to be frost and ice growing on them (1/2)(2/2) grian can not cry because the tears will immediately turned to ice, he can’t swim because if his body touches the water the water will freeze over, his skin is cold to the touch and whatever he moves his body it will make a cracking sounds like breaking glass or smashing ice, no matter how warm it is he can always see his breath... i’m trying to think of more but I’m coming up blank so that’s it hope you like it. - anonymous

- bc i cant stand when cleo is unhappy: the moment she and joe reunite, joe realizes how horrible it is for her to have her body messed with against her will. and as an admin, he can modify her code to put her back to how she was in previous seasons (aka not totally rabid but still undead) - anonymous

- Admins log final day: I'm glad we'll all be able to wake up from this nightmare, and we're able to get an exit portal going thanks to Mango and Methodz having a backup of the key to open the infinity portal's power, we should be able to not only go back in time, but destroy this broken timeline. Were all grateful for them, and I did invite them both to help us incace this happens again. This will be the last day in this timeline, if you somehow found this helmet with these logs, thank you. :-) - anonymous

- Grian, Doc, and Ren find it hard to stay away from each other too long, especially Doc and Ren becuase they've been taking care of Grian for such a long time so they find themselves kinda hovering over him and Grian finds himself seeking them out even when he's with other hermits. The other groups, who've been toghther for awhile, do it too probs - anonymous

- Soon as Grian and Mumbo see each other, they launch themselves at the other and hold on for a long, long time. Iskall join in soon as he wanders by and they talk for hours about what happened, looking over Grian's new fox parts and the blue marks on his hands, Mumbo gray stained hands and magic, and just Iskalls overall experience. Also Grian's little fox buddy absolutely loves Daisy and vice versa. Its not uncommon to see the small fox riding on the ravager's back while Daisy scares people. - Anonymous

- I know I'm a bit out of loop w scattered au & is probably getting things wrong but consider this, when Mumbo accidentally summoned Scar, leaving Bdubs alone, Bdubs freaked out. The very person that meant rescue & hope for him back in the end is now gone, he felt like he's back into the void again and he thought Scar abandoned him because he's too weak & is a burden to Scar. (Yes I am currently drowning in Scardubs angst) - @/anthosaidsmth

- The glitches in the world didn't only happen to the Hermits, it happened to all worlds created in 1.17. The cause remains unknown, though it is believed that something or even someone corrupted/changed the code (what/who is up to imagination. In the case of the latter, so is the motive). My idea, we've already confirmed that Watchers are arrogant jerks so perhaps they couldn't stand the fact that players learned to do things against the rules that they put in place, and did this out of spite. - anonymous

- A bit late but I see all the Fox!Grian headcannons so what if Grian spawned in a jungle and slowly became a parrot hybrid instead? How idk, maybe resorting to eating seeds to prevent himself from starvation because there is no animals in this jungle.

- Here's a thought: The Hels!Hermits were also effected by whatever caused the scattering. They may all hate or annoy each other, but not having each other around to pick on isn't very fun (neither are death loops). Perhaps some of them gain humility over this or learn to be at least a bit nicer to each other and their counterparts. (or some of them find sadistic amusement in their counterpart's miseries) - anonymous

- Finally, once everyone has made it safely to spawn and the problems with the world have been resolved, the season begins. Some of the Hermits may have changed (more than just physically) but over time, they adapt and recover. Grian eventually starts yet ANOTHER war, Tango gets to build DO 2.0 (X is terrified at the fact wardens are involved), and Cleo becomes a coach on 'how to be a mob hybrid' (unless all new hybrids get returned to how they were before by admin powers or just being players). - anonymous

- With all the glitches fixed and all the hermits starting to get back to their normal (Well as normal as it can be after all of these), I wonder if Scar is still a vex. All the hermits just adapted to their situations, but Scar is different, he made a deal with the Vex. - @/anthosaidsmth

- It takes all of the hermits that changed a while to get used to the changes, but eventually they do, mostly through help and support from the other hermits - anonymous

- I had a wee idea and it's a little silly but I like hurt/comfort so maybe after all the scattered au events have passed and the hermits are all together living safely, every winter some hermits invite Grian to their bases to take care of him since the snow and the cold are very bad for him. Sometimes he gets fevers but most of the time he just needs a warm blanket and someone to distract him from the snow. This is also making me wonder if Grian could develop chinophobia (fear of the snow). - Anonymous

- conclusion

Art:

- An Evoker Mumbo

- Evoker Mumbo with Daisy

- Evoker Mumbo summoning Scar

- a Guardian Impulse

- assorted doodles here and here

- A two-part Impulse comic

Writing:

- some Etho lore come back to haunt him (pt 1)

- Cleo sharing mob-hybrid tips with Impulse

- Executioner

- Fish out of water

- Homesick

- Thalassophobia

- The General's Wager (pt 2)

- The Undertow

- Saviors

- Bdubs falling

- For lack of blue shiny rocks (pt 3)

- conclusion (pt 4)

- EX in the Deep Dark

- this road I'm on's gonna turn to sand

- Snapshots

- a multi-chapter Scattered interpretation written just before the real season 8, complete with some outside lore and crossover

- Scattered Across The Map (series of parallel multi-chapter fics)

- One Hundred Thousand Worlds Away

#hcraft #hermitcraftheadcanons #hermitcraft #hermitblr #scattered au #mod shade #Masterpost

202 notes · View notes

square-blunt · 3 years

Text

Don't trust english boys with far too much free time (SPOLIERS FOR 3RD LIFE SMP)

its that time again, i wrote a fic run in here come get y'alls juice. 3rd life smp fic that i threw together rq. (HUGE SPOILERS) Basically, during Scott's 7th episode, I make everything worse than it was.

Tw- Death, major gore/blood mentions, suidical intentions, but it's only a few lines and it's nothing explicit, and overall hurt. Wc: 2994 AO3: here!

It had all happened so fast. The battle of- Scott couldn’t be bothered to remember what Grian had called it. Why should he? It was the battle where he lost everything. Fuck, it had all happened too fast. He and Grian were killed. Him by Ethos, Grian by Martyn, and then- and then Jimmy. Jimmy was shot by Skizz. Scott had respawned somewhere outside of the flower kingdom, running back to the desert as quickly as he could, but when Jimmy’s- when the message popped up- Scott stopped running. He could feel it, too, a ringing in his ears, a phantom pain in the right side of his head- he didn’t need the message to know that his husband was dead. He becomes lightheaded, vision blurring, and he stumbles into and leans on a tree for stability. He- he didn’t- he couldn’t- he shouldn’t have- just left Jimmy there- how could he have been so stupid? If he just hadn’t died- if he had just told Jimmy to stay home- if he had just told Grian and Scar to fuck off- he stumbles down the hill towards the desert. Why hadn’t the TNT gone off yet- Scar wasn’t dead why hasn’t he pulled the lever? As the desert comes into view, Scott sees that the lever had indeed been pulled. Dogwarts just got lucky. None of them died. He sees some of them still hanging around the bunker where Scar and- no, Jimmy- Jimmy- his husband was more resilient than that- he- Scott knew- Jimmy wasn’t dead he couldn’t be that wasn’t how this worked- no, no, no. No- no- it’s not- he’s not-

/msg SolidarityGaming: [This user doesn’t exist]

No- no, fuck-

“Jimmy?” Scott whispers to himself. He needs- he has to- Jimmy’s name- he needs to hear someone say it. If he has to say it himself then so fucking be it. “Jimmy- Jimmy, Jimmy I’m so sorry, Jimmy- please- I’m sorry please, Jimmy, please come back, Jimmy, I can’t-” he doesn’t want to alert the Dogwarts people- he has extra potions behind the desert house. He avoids any Dogwarts that stayed behind and snags his extra potions. He feels numb. He doesn’t know where Scar is, he doesn’t know where Grian is, he doesn’t know what’s gonna happen next but quite honestly he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to go back to the bunker- but he doesn’t have a choice. He makes his way back over, and he hears Grian worrying over Scar inside,

“Grian?” Scott is surprised at how horse his voice is.

“Scott? Scott- what- it- what happened? ” Grian climbs out of a hole in the sand, dirty, bloody, and worried

“It all went- horribly, horribly wrong-” Scott pushes down the massive pit in his stomach, and tries to put some lightness in his voice.

“Oh- all is- all is lost- what happened? Did the explosion- the explosion- what-” Grian starts to sprint towards the massive crater in the desert- and Scott follows closely behind.

“The explosion went off but it didn’t kill any of them- Cleo was shot by Ren??” Scott sees the message pop up on his communicator- the pit in his stomach expanding as he tries not to look up at- or not to think about what Bdubs might be thinking. He ponders reaching out- but he doesn’t think he could handle that right now. He knows Grian is talking, probably going on, and on about the explosion, maybe wondering where Scar went- if he was anywhere he’d be in the bunker- where Jimmy…. Where Jimmy was supposed to be. The ringing in his ears grows louder.

“-all is lost.” Scott slowly regains his bearings and hears Grian fretting over… everything that’s just happened. “We must- Do- ugh- Is there any stuff here to get back? Are we completely dead?”

“Um, I have this, I- I’m- I was smart in my excess potions, I put away-” Scott says, opening his bag and handing a few to the other.

“As you can see I also had a backup room-” Scott does notice that Grian has iron armor, which was more than him at least.

“Yeah, I have a few more diamonds- oh-”

“Tango was shot by Ren- Tango is out-” Grian says, calling attention to yet another death message.

Scott responds, but he doesn’t know what he said, he doesn’t understand what Grian says next, because they’re standing at the doorway to the bunker. It wasn't the doorway Grain had built, just a hole in the wall. 2 blocks high, one block wide, beckoning for Scott to go in, to see what had happened. Scott knows his husband is on the other side of that wall.

"-Scott?" Scott snaps back to reality when Grian places a hand on his shoulder.

"I’m- I'm okay, really-" Scott rushes, feeling a familiar sting in his eyes. Do not cry do not cry do not cry-

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Grian says, as soft as can be. Fuck, he hates that. He's supposed to be this battle-hardened warrior- do not cry do not cry- Grian wasn't supposed to remind him of how vulnerable he is. Grian wasn't supposed to see how vulnerable he could get.

Scott shakes his head, putting on a smile, do not cry, "What do you mean? I'm just gonna go see if there's anything we can salvage-" his voice shakes, but he hopes Grian doesn't notice.

Grian notices

"Scott, I'll be waiting out here." Grian gives Scott a friendly smile, "Here." Grian offers him a water bottle and a washcloth. Scott chokes back a sob and takes it, his smile wavering. He nods, not trusting himself to speak. Grian walks a few paces away, out of soft speaking distance, and Scott turns back to the gap. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. Fuck, he doesn't want to do this. He wants to turn around, run back to his kingdom, lock himself inside his house and pretend that all of this never happened. That Jimmy- that Jimmy was still across the pond, making a fuss over the cows and the chickens, asking him to mine, and then mining for hours and finding nothing but companionship. Scott wasn't ready to face the truth. Scott wasn't ready to face his last two lives without him- Scott wasn't ready to face anything without him. He takes another breath, and steps in. He looks down at his feet- that was a mistake.

There's so much blood.

It's everywhere he looks.

Everywhere he looks is just… red.

Fuck, there's so much blood.

It's smeared on the floor, a sign of struggle? There are footprints. Maybe- no, the footprints lead out the door- they're Scars. Any hope Scott had left leaves his body in a sob. He covers his mouth and backs up against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

He knows what's in this room.

He knows.

He doesn't want to accept it but he knows.

He opens his eyes, and it's like a stab to the gut.

He can't look further than Jimmy's hand.

That hand that Scott took as he pulled him out of a hole the first day, the hand that Scott shook to promise friendship, the- the hand that Scott held, last night, under the stars, listening to an owl far in the distance, trying not to fall asleep, confessing to each other that they might be more than friends. The hand that quickly fashioned a makeshift ring out of a red tulip stem. The hand that couldn't build for shit, but somehow built the most important thing to Scott- a bond. The hand that laid limp, lifeless, grey, covered in its own blood.

Scott wishes it were him.

Scott wishes that he was the one whose blood was all over the floor, the walls, the ceiling.

Scott was tough, blunt, sarcastic but Jimmy was bright and happy and his smile lit up the entire world- he was Scott's entire world- fuck, why'd it have to be Jimmy? Jimmy was so… unapologetically loving. Scott loved few and far between. Jimmy was carefree. Scott was a pushover. Jimmy couldn't give two shits about what other people thought of him. Scott was meticulous and worried over the slightest details. Jimmy was willing to hear everyone out, to give people second chances. Scott was toxic and everyone knew it. Jimmy was loved by everyone. Scott was loved by Jimmy. Why did it have to be Jimmy?

Scott's stomach is turning itself inside out, his head is spinning, his lungs won't take in enough air, he sobs again. He falls to his knees. He can taste the salt and iron that hangs in the air, its sting seeping into his skin. His hands are stained with blood- with Jimmy's blood- he crawls over to Jimmy. Grasping his hand- somehow it's colder than Scott remembers. Jimmy's hand was already cold due to him being a red-life but now it's so cold that Scott can barely take it. He sobs again, but this time he can't stop. The sobs won't stop, the tears won't stop, the pain won't stop- as they roll off Scott's cheeks and fall to the floor, to his hand, to Jimmy's hand- they fall and clear circular patches of blood away. It reminds Scott that the blood hasn't had time to dry yet.

Scott sobs harder.

Scott makes the mistake of looking up.

Jimmy really does look like he's sleeping.

His eyes are closed, his lips, soft and slightly parted.

He'd look so peaceful.

If it weren't for the arrow in the side of his head, and the gashes in his chest.

Those fucking- they raided the bunker and made sure- that's where all the blood came from- they fucking- Scott moved to cradle Jimmy's head in his lap, wiping away the blood on Jimmy's face. Scott wants to believe he's sleeping. Jimmy just… fell asleep in his arms. They were up on a ridge top somewhere, and Jimmy just fell asleep. He can almost feel the landscape around him, the cool breeze… he can hear Jimmy's laughter and indignant protests over the simplest things, he can't feel a phantom hand cupping his cheek. He can hear Jimmy say 'I love you'.

Scott screams.

Scott screams until his voice feels torn to shreds.

In honor of a voice he'd never hear again.

He screams as many 'No's and utter denials and one can muster, he screams at those- those bastards that took Jimmy from him, he screams 'If I had' after 'If I had' after 'If I had', he screams for the tears that drown his vision, the tightness in his chest that feels suffocating. He knows Grian can hear him through the sandstone walls but he doesn't care. He hadn't cared for a long time. Not until Jimmy. Jimmy, his fucking starshine, his morning glory, his fucking dumbass husband, who didn't hesitate to protect Scott from the most powerful people here- because Jimmy didn't want to lose him.

It should have been Scott.

But the universe is cruel.

He hunches over, sobs tearing through his body, protecting what's left of his husband, watching his own tears leave clean streaks in the bloody mess. He takes the water and the rag and wipes away what he can. Scott clears Jimmy's face, his beautiful fucking face, wipes the blood from his lips, nose, hair. Oh, his hair. Jimmy never did anything with it. Never brushing it, leaving it in whatever state it was in when he woke up, starting a few days ago, Scott would hold him down and fix it for him. 'No husband of mine is going to walk around with hair as bad as that.' It didn't matter, Jimmy's hair was still matted to the side of his head. Scott couldn't even look to that side of his face without almost throwing up-

The arrow despawns.

Scott pulls his sword from his inventory with hysteric breaths and unforgiving sobs. He holds it at arm's length. He's still a yellow-life, this wouldn't fix anything. He'd become a red-life, and then have to do it all over again. He doesn't have the energy. He wishes he had the energy, but… he knows Jimmy would be appalled. That is, if the afterlife would be kind enough to put them together. But Jimmy would still be upset. That's one of the many things he loved about Jimmy. If you did something for him, a gift, rebuilding his house, doing his hair, he'd get so flustered. He'd get red in the cheeks and would start stammering and it was the cutest thing. Scott would start teasing him about it and Jimmy would sheepishly smile and hide his face in his shoulder.

But that smile is gone now.

Scott lets the sword clatter to the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Jimmy" Scott whispers, rocking back and forth, his thumb circling Jimmy's cheek. "I never wanted it to end this way." Scott lets his head hang, his hair brushing Jimmy's forehead. Jimmy loved Scott's hair, too. He would constantly tuck it behind Scott's ear for him, sometimes adding a flower. He would constantly complement the blue, make up little nicknames. Jimmy's favorite color was blue.

"It's because of you," Jimmy had said, "blue being my favorite color, it's because of you. Your eyes, your hair, everything about you is blue in the best way. The flowers are jealous." Scott saw blue in everything after that. He sees something blue in his jacket pocket that hadn't been there before-

It's a hyacinth.

Jimmy must have slipped it in before the fight, how it stayed in his pocket he has no idea, but it's the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for him. He gingerly pulls it out, some of the petals are stained, but it doesn't matter to Scott. Jimmy put it there. Jimmy put it there. Jimmy saw this flower, thought of him, snuck it into his pocket, and- maybe Jimmy thought it would bring good luck? Scott starts to sob again, holding a simple blue flower in one hand, his best fucking friend in the other.

Scott tucks the flower behind Jimmy's ear.

Scott's chest and hands and legs are red, his eyes are red, he is broken beyond repair. But he still sees the blue. It stands stark against the red. The blue in Jimmy's clothing, the blue of the hyacinth blending with his hair. Jimmy's eyes were blue, too. He wants to see that blue again more than he's wanted anything in his life. He wants to be mad at those who took it away from him. He can't bring himself to be mad. He should be blind with rage, but he's just tired. If Jimmy were here, he'd make him tea and tell him to stay inside, Jimmy might have even stayed with him instead of going out to farm or mess around with Joel or Impulse.

Why, why, why, why did it have to be Jimmy. Jimmy was the last person who deserved this. Jimmy honestly deserved the world. Jimmy… he made the world a better place. The world feels wrong now.

"I'll be back to bury you, my love, but I can't stay," Scott whispers. He lightly kisses Jimmy's forehead. "We've had each other since the beginning, I will see this through to the end. They won't get away with this. I can't let them. You were everything to me, you still are. I love you with everything I have, even now that death has parted us, I can't stop loving the memories we shared." Scott can't recognize his own voice. It's strained and raspy and it hurts to speak. It hurts to breathe. It hurts so fucking much. Scott has to tear himself away. If he had his way, he would stay there until someone came along to kill him, too. But Grian still needed him. He- he let Jimmy down, he wasn't going to let Grian down. Scott kisses Jimmy's cheek one last time and picks up his sword, planning vengeance. He'd have to survive that long, but he would. He can't give up. He only realizes how bloody he is as he steps out of the bunker. Sure enough, Grian is waiting for him as promised. Before Scott can say anything, Grian runs over and scoops Scott up into a hug.

"You're gonna have blood on your clothes now, too" Scott rasps, Grian laughs lightly.

"I'm so sorry. We'll kill Skizz, I swear on it." Grian says, rubbing Scott's back. Scott tucks his head into Grian's neck.

"What am I supposed to do without him?" Scott whispers, barely audible to either of them

"Kill Dogwarts. Bring them down. Make them regret everything they've ever done." Grian whispers back. No one's around, they have no need to be whispering, but neither of them wants to raise their voice.

"They deserve it, they're homophobic," Scott says, some of his trademark sarcasm creeping back into his voice, Grian giggles.

"There he is. I missed you, Scott." Grian smiles, pulling away.

"This is gonna suck, isn't it," Scott says, sniffing, chest tightening again, a sad smile on his face.

"It might- hey, hey, it might, but Scar and I are here for you. We'll fight tooth and nail for you, and for Jimmy, I swear." Grian offers some armor, which Scott gladly accepts.

"Well, we have to find Scar first," Scott and Grian both laugh, "I'll come back for him, to take him and bury him back home. But… I just can't do that right now." Scott sighs.

"Take all the time you need, Scott," Grian says. Scott was lucky to have him and Scar. Scott knew they were his friends, his allies, and Jimmy trusted them until the end, and so too would Scott. They- they were all he had left of Jimmy.

He wasn’t gonna lose them too.

He can’t.

He couldn’t.

He didn’t.

#tag time yayyyyyyy #3rd life spoilers #3rd life smp #3lsmp #flower husbands #jimmy solidarity #3l!jimmy #3l!solidarity #scott smajor #3l!scott #3l!smajor #angsttttt #blood tw #death tw #Grian tries his best #gremtalks #my fics

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writing-the-end · 3 years

Text

LoL Chapter 49- The Underground

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block (new computer and I still can’t fuckin at you)

Turns out the hermits aren’t the only ones who wish to get rid of Magistrate Dolios.

____________________________________

Etho drops into the canal below, water rippling without a single drop to disturb the silent cave. Heterochromatic eyes rove across the dark, dank tunnel, waving one hand for the others to follow. Scar comes next, much less gracefully as he misses the last rung and tumbles into the canal with a heavy splash.

They were beneath the noble district of the city. Grown above the canals like most of Milliara, they built up beyond the lifeblood of Lairyon. Left it behind, to pass through in these underwater canals, until they lead to a fountain, messenger canal, or the rest of the city.

Once Xisuma’s boots are in the water, he sloshes forward without pause. He knows who he saw, he’s just not sure if he believes it. Ex never gets involved with anything. He always waits, watches from the sidelines. When X wanted to fight, it was Ex that stayed behind. When X wanted to be a guild, Ex went on his own.

He continues on, following the distance sound of scraping and scuffling, harsh against the soft patter of water and trickle of running water. Xisuma rounds the corner, white light reflecting in the distance off the damp walls. He’s so focused on the light at the end he doesn’t notice the movement in the shadows. At least, not until it’s too late.

A warm hand claps over Xisuma’s mouth, muffling any attempt for him to cry out. Another arm drags him into the darkness, and a wave of fear keeps Xisuma from trying to escape. A warm, low voice growls in his ear, full of menace. “You had your chance, now let the big kids play.”

“Tris, we’re just supposed to stop the guard, not-” A second, similar voice fractures through the darkness, and Xisuma notices a lock of pink hair, bright against the stone wall.

“I’m Nightshade!” The one holding Xisuma snaps, loosening his grip on him. “Do you want half the city to know who we are?”

Xisuma manages to wriggle free, and instead the twin faces wrestle each other into the water. Tackling and pulling hair, calling each other names that grow louder and louder. Loud enough for the other hermits to find them.

Stress realizes who she’s looking at first. “King Sor?”

“What am I, chopped liver?” one of the two growls, his blue scarf soaked.

“The king?” Tango splutters, snapping his fingers. A flame appears in his hand, and he raises it higher. Sure enough, wrestling in the muck and mud of the swampwater was the King of Lairyon and his twin brother. Yin and yang, dark and light. Their tan skin and rainbow hair- though the king’s much brighter- was instantly recognizable, even if the all white and black suits weren’t enough.

Grand Advisor Tris, currently holding King Sor in a headlock, glares at the hermits. “Do you mind?”

“We are in the middle of something.” Sor adds, looking at their audience as he grabs hold of Tris’s fingers and yanks.

“What are you-” Xisuma starts, confusion clouding his prerogative. Why is the Twin King, monarch of Lairyon, in the canals beneath his own city, tackling his brother and arguing over codenames? Xisuma shakes his head, trying to avoid the fact that he’s standing in front of the king. “Where did he go? My brother?”

“Where’s Doc?” BDubs adds, bouncing from foot to foot. They have to find their friend. Is he still alive? What do the kings want with a criminal? Why all this, when King Sor has more power than even Dolios?

“Three lefts then a right, there’s a staircase carved into the wall. It’ll take you to-” Sor has gained the upper hand, sitting on top of Tris, but the advisor isn’t afraid to kick his brother into silence.

“You are, by far, the worst spy ever.” Tris hisses, but the hermits leave the twins to their squabble in the sewer. Following Sor’s directions, they wind through the secret caves, Tango, Grian, Ren, and Iskall illuminating the darkness. Jevin can’t help but think about when they first began this journey, way back in Gildara. How they wandered dark, wet caves like this. Only to become enraptured into something so much bigger than they could ever have known.

But rather than a corrupted crystal at the end of this dive, they find the carved steps Sor had mentioned.

They also find the trail of blood up the rough hewn stairs. Every step up is slick with the ochre, a different size and shape from the one before. At the top of the stairs, a hatch remains closed. Xisuma presses up against the metal hatch, but finds it too heavy to lift. Looking up, he notices a symbol burnt into the metal.

Ex still uses their shared mark. Even after their estrangement, the swirl and the star remain easily visible. Not like how Xisuma scratched it off everything he owned. “It’s blocked. Stress?”

“Not a problem, dearie.” The ice mage squeezes her small, limber body between Xisuma and TFC, rolling up her sleeves. Without even breaking a sweat, she forces the hatch open. Light blinds them for a second time, though this much softer than before. Lamplight, enough to illuminate the wooden building, but still soft enough to cast shadow. A chest full of books has been tossed aside, the rug covering the hidden hatch flipped over.

The hermits crawl out, like an army of ants from the seams in the wood, filling the small bookstore. Ex’s arrival surprises no one, and neither does the twenty something mages in his bookshop. The twin brother of Xisuma looks up, purple eyes meeting the hermits. A lock of pure white hair covers over one eye, and the red fabric of the cloak covers Ex from the nose down. But even with his face covered, the hermits can see the discontent in his expression.

“He’s in the back. I’d… I’d be prepared.” Ex’s voice remains low and tempered, a bit deeper than Xisuma’s own. He turns away, running fingers across the shelves of books around him, before pulling free an encyclopedia of medicines.

Scar doesn’t wait, bursting through the curtain into Ex’s living quarters. He follows the trail of ash and blood, until he stops dead. The other hermits crowd in behind him, desperate to see their friend. For a week, he’s been in jail. Just being able to be in the same room was a blessing.

Doc was rested on a cot, bandages covering his legs, his arms, his chest, his face. Blackened skin beneath white gauze. He lays still, eyes closed, clothes in burnt tatters. For a minute, everyone holds their breath, waiting to see Doc breathe his own. When a shallow rise of his chest, followed by whisper of an exhale, escapes from the puppeteer, relief floods the hermits.

Doc is alive. Hanging on by a thread, but alive. Scar grabs Grian, yanking him to the front and shoving him into the room. “Fix him!”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” Grian may be rivals with Doc, but they’re still friends. Family. He walks across the silent room, each step a loud creak through the wooden building. The hermits follow in after, a concave audience watching, hoping for a miracle.

Grian’s eyes begin to glow, and another set of wings appear from his back, and another. A halo rings above Grian’s blond hair, sharp shafts of light piercing the air around him. The archangel kneels beside Doc, lost in the overwhelming power of his magic. A mere pass of his hand over the unconscious criminal begins to heal him. An angelic miracle, Grian simply brushes a wing, and it eases the blackened burns across their friend.

Doc’s breathing deepens, though he doesn’t wake. Brought back from the brink, from the precipice of death. Mumbo carefully sidles up beside Grian, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Grian, you can let go of your aura.”

The soothing voice does the trick, as light fades and wings disappear. Grian’s exhausted but forces the glow and sleep from his eyes to see his success. Doc was alive. Doc was stable.

Doc was safe, with his family again.

Ex appears in the doorway, hands full of books, potions, herbs, and crystals. But when he sees his patient, no longer bleeding out and struggling to hang on for dear life. He looks at Doc, then Grian, then Xisuma. Dropping his armful of supplies, he waves his hand. “You really have one of everything, don’t you?”

Xisuma takes a deep breath. He hasn’t spoken a word to Ex in years. What does he say, after so long? What does he tell him, or yell at him, or cry to him? But only one word manages to escape from X’s lips, through his mask. “Thanks.”

The word surprises both twins, blinking back in surprise. Ex’s lips press into a thin line, and he turns his head away. A white ponytail of hair cascades over his shoulder. “Never say I didn’t do anything for you, brother.”

“Xisuma, this is your brother?” Keralis questions. They were almost identical twins, in fact. From the structure of their face, the intensity in their eyes. The only difference between the two was Ex’s snow white hair. Hell, they even had them both in ponytails.

“If he still considers me a brother.” Ex snips, picking up the mess on the floor and carefully placing the books in a stack.

“I thought you said getting into things would only lead to trouble.” Xisuma looks down at his friend, then to Ex.

“And by the looks of it, I was right.”

“But you saved Doc. You used your magic in front of half the city, to save him from burning at the stake.” Xisuma shakes his head, still in disbelief. “Why?”

Ex stops moving, going silent. His shoulder tense forward, until his head drops. “Because he means so much to you. You may not consider me a brother, but I still care about you. Whether or not this disaster could have been avoided, we’re all in on it now.”

“We?” Cub picks up on Ex’s words, raising an eyebrow. Of course, there were the royals, but he also remembers the water magic appearing from nowhere, the cactus growing from the woodwork, the black wings in the smoke.

Ex snorts. “What, you think you guys have been this lucky the whole time? That it was only you idiots taking on the magistrate?”

He turns, walking out of the room. Assuming the hermits will follow. He assumed correctly. Only a few stay behind to keep watch over Doc, the others squeezing through the aged wooden shop, up the rickety stairs and into a dining room.

They aren’t alone. Inside, three people are sitting. One with short brown hair, cropped to the side and laying on the top of the table, earthy colored clothes and scarves wrapped around her. Sitting crosslegged in the seat is a small kipling, rocking in place with curious eyes as he looks upon the large group entering into Ex’s study. Finned ears flick against black and orange locks, a slight glow appearing under the kipling’s clothes in the dark room. And in the corner, perched on the flat booth’s backrest, a blonde mane drapes around a serious face, and a pair of jet black wings rustle against the wooden walls.

The last faces they expected to see were those of the Wanderers.

“Red? Ecto?” Zedaph tips his head to the side, surprised. The last time they saw the three of them, it was before the labyrinth challenge. When the hermits celebrated with Team Crafted, they had already left. Disappeared just as fast as they appeared. And now, they’ve reappeared. Sitting in the middle of Ex’s kitchen, sipping on tea. As comfortable there as they were in that ratty old inn. ‘How do you guys know Xisuma’s brother?”

“It was you three who rescued Doc.” Scar whispers, his voice soft and almost reverent. Water, desert, and dragon.

“Ex approached us while you and Team Crafted were within the labyrinth. He told us about things we already had suspicion of, but no connected dots.” Avon tips her head back, looking down her nose at the hermits. “We decided the best way we could help Lairyon was to cause as much nuisance to the magistrate as possible, as well as handle certain missions.”

“This entire time, you were helping us?” Xisuma turns, looking at his brother. They’re the exact same height, purple eyes locked in some years long argument.

Ex snorts. “What, you think you idiots did that all on your own? But it wasn’t just the wanderers that have been helping. Team Crafted has had their hand in this underground rebellion as well. Turns out, they make a lot of trouble all over the place for the arcane guard to deal with, as well as encourage people to tell their stories and speak out against the magistrate.”

“But then that leaves…” Mumbo trails off, and he turns around at the sound of bickering behind them. Sure enough, the twin rulers are still arguing over their codenames. Mumbo bows, his hands shaking as he remembers all the rules he was taught when in presence of the king.

King Sor presses one hand over his twin’s mouth to shut him up, and uses the other to wave off Mumbo’s bow. “Please, there’s no-” Sor’s interrupted when Tris retaliates, licking his hand. The king curses, rubbing the spit on his white outfit. “You’re disgusting, brother.”

“Go on, finish the story. Don’t forget to tell them who’s idea it was to reach out to the mysterious white haired man with connections to Eremita.” Tris scoots in beside Red, and Ecto pours tea for the royal advisor.

“It was Tris’s idea to contact Ex. I honestly don’t know how he found out about him, but he’s been the conductor of it all. We help fund in any way we can, and he does the research before sending the wanderers and Team Crafted to play support roles.” King Sor doesn’t look like the man the hermits are used to seeing. The king, the ruler of Lairyon. He’s thriving with people, just another person, another friend.

“But...you’re the king. Why can’t you just depose of Dolios?” Beef questions, the confusion in his voice matched by all of the hermits. Only Ex and the wanderers act as if this was evident.

They expected Sor to answer, being the king, but with a loud crash of a metal teacup against the wooden table, all attention is turned to Tris. “That monster, that....bastard has been using us all against Sor. Especially me.” Tris grits his teeth hard, jaw tight and set. “You’re too damn soft, Sor.”

“Soft?! Tris, he was going to kill you!” Sor gasps, tears beginning to streak from teal eyes, across tanned cheeks. His breath hiccups and catches in his throat. “Dolios made sure he had control over everything, including me. In order to do that, he… he tortured Tris. My brother. Threatened both our families. Hurt our closest friends in the royal guard. Sometimes… I had no choice but to let it happen. The things he would have done to the kingdom were so much worse but...at what cost? Did I make the right decision, letting him do that to my own brother?”

Sor’s knees fall out from under him, and in the aged wooden floor of a bookstore, the King of Lairyon is brought to kneel. Tears fall, all he’s been forced to endure breaking down. And the hermits, despite hardly knowing King Sor, understand and sympathize with him all the same. His family is at risk, the same way their own is. Dolios will stop at nothing to tear both families apart, all for his gain and rise to power.

Red clambers over Tris’s lap, breaking every taboo and rite to approach the king. She runs over, and hugs the king tight and close. A warm hug, like a mother’s embrace, just enough to calm down the monarch. Such a young man, forced to make so many horrible decisions. After a moment, the king recollects himself. Through puffy, tearstained eyes, he looks to the hermits. “Lairyon needs a hero. There are no chosen ones, there is no prophecy. No knights in shining armor, no kings and our awesome power. This time, the heroes need to be made. And you, the Order of Hermits, were the brave souls to choose to be heroes.”

“Dolios is using his darkness to gain power. After what you dealt with, we were sure you’d give up.” Tris adds, standing and placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Now, the scars on the royal advisor’s body are clear as day. “But you really are the heroes that will bring back the Light of Lairyon.”

Silence falls over the room. The hermits, heroes? Just for wanting to help, to do what no one else knew to do? They were caught up in all of this, and multiple times death waited to claim them- if Dolios had his way. They weren’t heroes, just people who chose to fight back. Who chose to make the stand.

“Dark magic isn’t new.” Ex breaks the silence, hefting a massive, ancient book onto the table. The wood rocks, dumping Avon off it and into Ecto’s lap. “There have been insurgences all throughout history, though the past thousand years have been relatively quiet. Unfortunately about that, almost all information how the dark magic was defeated has been… lost to time. To make matters worse, no reported insurgence has ever been so prolific as this time around.”

“Alright, how does this help with anything?” Xisuma rolls his eyes. His brother always has such a flair for the dramatics, always getting way too deep into history and his books. Next to the massive tome that Ex is flipping through, Avon stops pestering Ecto. She goes still, even when the desert wizard dumps her onto the floor. A look of fear spreads from her eyes, rippling like a drop of water across a lake.

“Well, if this happened before with the ancient ones, then it’s likely the answer may lie with the history of Lairyon itself. Perhaps if you-” Ex is interrupted when a massive black pair of wings extends, one smacking him in the face.

“The spirit dragons are in danger.”

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft fanfic #light of lairyon #wizard au #wizard hermits #lol #wizard grian #wizard ex #wizard doc #wizard scar #wizard bdubs #wizard etho #grianmc #evil xisuma #docm77 #gtwscar #bdoubleo100 #ethoslab

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lapis-lazuli-block · 5 years

Text

Flesh and Bone

A little fic for @ask-elementalhermitcraft based off of one of Joe’s poems, Like Your Enemy (from his s6 ep96, Puttering Around).

Length: 2784 words

I made war on the sea and became the waves

The night was damp and warm, but that was to be expected; they were, after all, in the middle of a swamp. The stagnant water covering the ground reflected the clear, crisp white light of the moon above. In the water, she watched Iskall and Stress a full bit away making a routine sweep of G Team’s territory.

She and Ren weren’t supposed to encounter them tonight, and certainly not in the middle of a swamp, where both Iskall and Stress’ powers would nearly be at full height. But it was night, and the moon was shining on the swamp water. False and Ren were at the height of their power, too.

Still, a skirmish was less than preferable. They would be too evenly matched. She needed to find Ren, wherever the reckless man had gone, before the opposing duo found him first. Without moving an inch, she shifted her attention to her partner for the night. She didn’t have to look far before Ren’s image stared back at her from the water. His expression was as tense as False felt; he could see the enemy.

False was off, bow in hand, fast as she was able while keeping the sound of her feet splashing in the water to a minimum. She kept an eye on the scene through the mirrored surface of the swamp but she could only watch as Ren backed further into the underbrush and Iskall and Stress continued to draw closer. She passed a massive ravine; that, perhaps, would prove useful.

She slowed to a crouching crawl and then hid behind a tree once the duo came into her line of sight. Their backs were still to her, but it was colder now and the slimy swamp water covering her feet clung to her diamond boots. Across a wide—too wide—span of water and hidden within dense forest, False saw the barely-visible shine of Ren’s eyes glowing silver in the power of the full moon. Behind him, a massive ravine marred the terrain.

The night was still. The air was thick. The firm grasp of her element was familiar as she summoned a shield to encase her body.

Iskall and Stress attacked with not so much as a passing glance exchanged between them.

The speeding line of ice that Stress sent her way just barely grazed False’s feet as she leapt backward onto dry land. Instinctive reactions and years of training had her sending an arrow in Stress’ direction before she landed. Her boots were frosted over, but there was no time to think about how cold her toes were while Stress was sprinting towards her.

Get Ren. Stay out of the water.

Stress threw her hands out and False danced away from an array of ice spikes. Stress and Iskall were most powerful when they and their opponents were surrounded by water. False lunged forward and slashed at Stress with her sword. It didn’t make contact. Of course this had to happen in a swamp.

“Stay still, love,” Stress snarled at her as False dodged yet another attack. The biting cold might have affected her if it weren’t for her skin-like shield she kept up. In her peripheral vision, she could see Ren and Iskall battling it out, slightly closer to the bank where Ren had been hiding. She shot an arrow, quick as lightning, and felt more sick than happy when it met its target.

Stress cried out. The arrow stuck out from her thigh as False leapt back. Water splashed outward as Stress fell. False’s instincts, honed after years of battle, told her to go for the kill as Stress looked up at her in shock. Her opponent was on the ground, at her mercy.

False hesitated a second too long, because a blade met her stomach before she could make another move.

Iskall’s sword shattered her shimmering shield and the impact knocked her to the ground as well. Her sword was in hand and raised for a second strike despite her fall, but she only caught a glimpse of Iskall’s face twisted in rage before Ren’s body slammed into the one-eyed man and the pair fell flailing to the ground.

Ren’s growl matched the look in Iskall’s sole eye in intensity, but his next move was to lunge toward Stress rather than continue to engage Iskall. Determined to protect his friend, Iskall leapt to his feet to intervene, but False swung her blade and stepped between him and the pair.

Iskall was a force to be reckoned with under normal conditions but this, with the water freezing and slime sticking the soles of her feet to the ground, plus his own increased speed in the swamp, this was simply unfair. False found herself fighting to keep her sword in hand and a magic shield in front of her only for it to break with one swing of his blade. Iskall was angry and, she had to admit, that was almost as terrifying as Doc angry.

>Rendog fell from a high place

False felt her blood turn icy, and she knew it had nothing to do with the ice elemental in her vicinity. Stress and Ren must have reached the ravine. Of course he’d been the one to fall. False was on her own now, against Iskall and Stress.

Iskall knew, too. False stumbled, the intensity of the moment finally getting to her. The Swede before her lunged and she fell once again, flat on her back, drenched in murky water.

They weren’t even supposed to engage tonight.

Iskall stalked forward. Behind her, False felt the chilly presence of Stress approaching, but she never took her eyes off of the imminent threat before her.

A plan formed in her mind; risky, deadly, but a plan. There was little choice but to attempt it. She’d exhausted all other options.

Iskall’s sword was coming down and False felt the tell-tale cold of ice rushing toward her back. She formed a small shield behind his legs and moved, quick as a whip, rolling forward and kicking outward to trip him and leap forward onto dry land in one smooth motion.

Iskall fell face-first into a foot-deep puddle of water that froze over immediately.

“Iskall!” Stress rushed forward, icicle already in hand to chip away at the ice covering him, but False wasn’t about to stick around to figure out if it would work.

She darted off, back towards her home base where Ren had surely respawned, leaving the pair behind her. She was out of the swamp with Team STAR’s base in view when the death message announced the result.

>Iskall85 drowned

I made war on the peaks and became the stone

There was a razed path of destruction through the world, a gruesome scar cut from the battleground of the two bases straight to the sea. The sun was rising over the water in the distance, though the fires all around burned bright enough that it might as well be day already.

Cleo stayed back, and perhaps that was cowardly, but her powers worked best from a distance. Jevin and Tango played tank, engaging in brutal, direct combat with Wels and Impulse, respectively. Cleo could barely see Mumbo through his cloud of redstone on the opposite side of the battlefield, identifiable as the source of dusty red waves that spawned deadly machines and weapons that activated on their own. The landscape was a mess of fire and iron, torn up by redstone machinery and levitated terrain.

Cleo’s undead army of zombies and pigmen, amassed from days of concentration next to a portal and an enormous glass containment pen, didn’t seem to be doing much harm to any of their three enemies but they did make decent targets for Mumbo’s machines. She could feel the dull aches all over her body as her forces were cut down by arrows and pistons and lava and for the first time in the fight that was lasting hours, the impacts were too difficult for her weary body to ignore.

The sun finally rose from the water. Cleo felt the uncomfortably warm sensation of her hundreds of mobs catching flame; with control of so many, she couldn’t stop them from burning. Lucky for her, Mumbo was tiring too, his cloud of red dispersing and thinning to the point where she could see his form kneeling on the ground. His machines were weaker and more sparse.

Cleo turned her attention to the continued fight between Wels and Jevin. The slime was no longer exhausting energy on freezing Wels’ arrows and the edges of his physical form were beginning to warp. Wels had dropped the swords that once circled him and his armor was no longer changing in response to Jevin’s attacks; it was simply spiked. They were beginning to tire. Anyone would be; this had to be the longest, most exhausting battle she’d been part of. They were too evenly matched. The sun had set and now risen again and yet not an inch of ground had been given or taken. The only result of their fighting was a stain on the surface of the world.

And yet, in the center of it all, burning the terrible path, two beacons of scorching heat clashed with what felt like a bottomless well of energy. It seemed as if Tango and Impulse were incapable of exhaustion. Cleo couldn’t even imagine it.

It hurt to watch. Literally—the brilliant light they were emitting burned her retinas—but in more ways than just physical; they were best friends. The sight of the two of them at each other’s throats was a horrible testament to how far out of hand the war had gotten. Hands burning, bodies glowing, the pair pulled apart and then rushed back in, an endless cycle every time they came face-to-face now. Flames licked Impulse’s mouth every time he opened it and the whip of fire in his hand lashed like a snake with a mind of its own. Tango’s hands were ablaze and the ground around his feet glowed red-hot with every step he took. The identical looks in their eyes were nothing less than ferocious.

As the sun rose behind her, Cleo allowed herself to take a step back and witness the battle. Her body shook with the toil of it; her armies ablaze, Mumbo all but motionless on the ground, Wels and Jevin locked in exhausted combat, Tango and Impulse forging a hideous inferno.

Joe, in all his infinite kindness and wisdom, had told her this was a mistake. Maybe they all had known that the whole time. And yet, even he had chosen a side. Whatever had caused this, even he wasn’t immune. She turned around; she needed a moment to collect herself.

There was a figure silhouetted by the sun in the distance, standing atop the highest mountain surrounding the scorched, upturned valley. Cold terror shot through Cleo like an icy knife stabbing her spine. Friend, or foe? Come to help the G Team or STAR? She didn’t know which option she feared more. It didn’t matter, she supposed; either way, it meant the end of this grueling battle.

The figure didn’t move. The mountain rumbled.

It was then that Cleo realized who it was. Neither friend nor foe, it was the reclusive Tinfoil Chef, emerging from beneath the earth for the first time in months.

She didn’t even have time to process that thought before the world went black. Her body crumpled and her lungs filled with filth as the surrounding mountains collapsed and the dirt beneath her feet gave way. A tidal wave of earth filled the valley, crushing the six hermits battling there.

>ZombieCleo suffocated >Mumbo suffocated >Tango suffocated >Welsknight suffocated >iJevin suffocated >ImpulseSV suffocated

I made war on the heavens and became the sky

In the month since the war had begun, every hermit had come to recognize when Doc and Grian were fighting. It wasn’t particularly hard to tell; the moment the two were in proximity and aware of each others’ presence, it was as if the sky itself was at war, as if the heavens were being ripped apart. A storm would hover low overhead, bolts of lightning streaking in jagged, violent paths from the clouds to the ground, accompanied by the crack of thunder and the wind howling angry ramblings as it sent rain sideways and upwards.

Doc stood on the roof of the ghast tower, trident in hand, eyes locked on the sky, searching for Grian’s faint form swooping through the clouds.

“Show yourself!” he roared, and the sky flashed white as a bolt of lightning arced through the clouds to hit the earth in the center of no-man’s land.

A winged man was silhouetted in the brief light. Doc lifted his trident, feeling its weight in his hand. It buzzed with energy that danced between the prongs and sent static running along his body. He aimed at the figure, knowing Grian was long gone, and shot into the air.

The feathers on Grian’s wings stood on end as a bold of pure electricity passed by where he’d been mere seconds before. His hand gripped tightly around his sword, his knuckles pale, his heart giddy as the man below shouted to the heavens:

“Face me, coward!”

Grian’s snicker was carried enough by the wind that Doc could hear it from where he stood down below. He grit his teeth, trying not to channel too much energy into his trident. Fights with Grian were more often than not long and painful, and pacing was key, especially because the man he was facing had far more stamina than him. At times, it seemed like Grian lived in the air. There had once been a time when Doc found his endless flight charming, but now he only felt a desire to ground the man with a vicious bolt of electricity.

Even from high above its source, Grian could feel the air tingling with electrical energy. It smelled of ozone and rain, and there was a sort of giddy thrill about him that he recognized as his element; the air was normally benevolent, if slightly reckless. Something about this war, though—perhaps the power that went along with fighting everyone—made his element more excited than normal.

He could feel it start circling before he commanded it to, but he paid no mind, and simply urged the forming tornado along. The sky lit up with another bolt of Doc’s lighting and Grian allowed himself to be illuminated by the blast. Below, Doc was alight with crackling energy on the roof of STAR’s ghast tower. The wind howled as Grian began his descent.

It was foolish to assume that any singular battle would end this war. It almost felt, at this point, that the entire thing would never end. At times like these, though, when it was one-on-one, and the conflict felt all the more personal and all the more deadly, it was easier to fall into the misguided hope that taking out the leader would stop the war.

Doc’s trident lit up with electricity, crackling and sparking, the scent of ozone pungent in the air. Wind swirled around Grian, a miniature hurricane surrounding him as he gained speed. Doc took aim as Grian swooped down, gaining momentum.

Doc’s eyes widened. At the last second, he sidestepped, and Grian sped straight down past him, grazing his wing on the corner of the ghast tower. The sting caught him by surprise, but the noise he made was nothing compared to the scream Doc let out. He caught the slightest glimpse of the man’s body alight with crackling energy before he was gone. It was far too late for Grian to try and stop himself; he simply closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable crash into the ground.

The energy surging through Doc was agonizing and brilliant. His entire being was electrified. Grian’s personal tornado had yanked his trident from his hand just as he was about to shoot the menace, and his own lightning had backfired on him. He could feel himself burning from the inside out, though he could hardly say the sensation was unfamiliar. He caught one final look at Grian’s falling form, and was filled with a sense of cruel satisfaction, knowing the other man would soon be dead, too.

>Grian experienced kinetic energy >Docm77 was struck by lightning

I made war on my neighbor and died, flesh and bone

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanfic #elemental hermitcraft #elemental hermitcraft au #ehau #my writing #im not tagging all these people I'm so sorry to whichever mod gets this and has to do that #its like everyone in the war except Joe and x and including TFC

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triple-a-enderdragon · 4 years

Link

How many times can you say the clock is ticking? Because now it’s

TWO MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT

First | Previous | Next

Biffa was living. The rush of battle was one he'd missed, even if he had felt it not that long ago. It was too long, in his opinion. He never thought it was fair that Python and especially Iskall got to face world hoppers. But at the same time, he trusted False's judgment enough to follow her direction. The thrill of the fights she did leave to him were well worth it.

In his anticipation for the next skirmish, he almost missed False's signal, pointing him to where their target was.

Landing in the torch-lit clearing, Biffa took in two things: Grian was alive, if a bit worse for wear; and his assailant had their back exposed. Swiftly crossing the clearing, he laid into the intruder, leaving a deep rent in their back. Biffa was a bit surprised they didn't drop, and followed through with a vicious blow to the head. That did the trick.

"Grian." False had also crossed the clearing to check on the builder. "Are you badly hurt?"

"Nothing that's too serious. I'd managed to avoid most of it," Grian said, checking himself over. Sure enough, he had a cut on his left arm and a nasty bruise developing on one cheek.

False gingerly brushed the bruise. "You took a head blow," she said. "A visit to Joe, if he's still awake, would be a good idea. When you're done with that, Impulse wants you to go to Tango's base."

"Tango's base? Did he say why?"

"He did not. I'm sure you'll find out when you get there."

Biffa interrupted them. "It's gotten dark. Mobs will start spawning, and I don't want to be here when they do."

False looked at him, amused. "You had no problem fighting just now."

"Yes, against a limited foe." Biffa looked her in the eye. "I remember the dangers of a hardcore world, mobs being the biggest one." He knew she did too. She nodded and wordlessly took to the skies, leaving Grian and Biffa to follow.

~~~

"Well, I would advise you from doing anything too ridiculous, but I've heard what you have to do tomorrow. Ridiculous definitely, even a bit cliché." Joe looked at Grian, then at Cub. "Then again, we can't have Concorp at half capacity, can we? Besides, I do want to see this for myself, seems delightfully absurd."

Grian looked a little confused, though it may have been the head injury. "What about Xisuma?"

Joe raised one eyebrow. Confused enough to say X's name more-or-less right. "Right! Can't forget about him. Anyway, I'm sure you're needed elsewhere to restore balance to the scales," he said as he herded Grian out of the Ministry. "Thanks for stopping by, Grian. It can get lonely with only the undead and the actual dead as company."

"Is Cleo the only one visiting? Shouldn't you get out more?"

"I understand your concern, but— while I'm no Scar— I'm no stranger to death. I'd rather stay in relative safety until I can risk being surprised by a creeper again."

Watching Grian go, Joe's thoughts wandered to a certain person intimately linked to death. He would have to see if Cleo was interested in watching what would unfold. And, Joe admitted, he would be too scared to do so alone.

~~~

There was only so much of the Nether that Python was willing to take at one time, and he felt he was getting mighty close to that limit. He'd already spent quite a bit of time gathering quartz for his ambitious builds in Tower Bay over the last few months.

Gathering quartz turned out to be the distraction he and Iskall set out for themselves. Keeping a watch on the temperature, they were able to ignore the frustration and unease with their situation. A careful trip to the gold farm kept their gear and tools in top shape. Food was not yet a concern, water was managed through the careful melting of ice.

The pigmen turned out to be less of a threat than the two thought; the hostiles still swarmed on sight, but always seemed to get distracted long enough for Iskall and Python to make a hasty escape.

So they mined quartz. Hours passed, with rests intermittent, before they found another problem.

Iskall was in front of the array of double chests, laden with quartz, trying to find space for the latest haul. He wasn't finding any. Rubbing his left eye, he walked to his ender chest and started looking for some wood. Which he didn't find. He looked at Python, also rummaging around his ender chest. "Python?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"You have any wood, by chance? I'm all out, and I need some for more chests."

Python's rummaging increased, shulker boxes opening and closing, before he said, "No, sorry man. I'm out as well."

"Dang it! I guess I'll be carrying around a bunch of quartz."

"You don't have any empty shulker boxes, or any empty spaces, at least?"

Iskall scanned his ender chest again. "Well, there's a bit of space, but still not enough. Ah, that's fine, at least I have some inventory space now," he said as he put the now full shulker box into his ender chest.

"If you're up for it, we should take one last trip to the gold farm," Python said. "Some of my gear's running low."

Iskall, feeling a headache coming on, said the wrong thing. "Yeah, I'm up for it."

~~~

Tango spent almost an hour, pacing his base, listening for the rockets that would signal Grian's approach. Since he and Impulse learned where the winged man was, they were on edge; even more than they already were. It wasn't until Grian landed in front of him with nary a whisper, startling him to the high heavens, that Tango remembered.

"Grian! You can't do that to me, man! Give a hoot or something, you about gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry about that; I forget how silently I fly now," Grian said sheepishly.

"It certainly woke me up." Tango was about to brief Grian, but he saw the colorful bruise Grian was sporting. "Oh, ow. That looks like it hurts. Didn't get out of the skirmish unscathed, huh?"

Grian poked at the bruise, wincing. "No, but frankly, I'm lucky it's not worse. By the way, what are we doing? It has something to do with the Nether, I hope?"

At this, Tango was all business. "Yes. The thing we need is at X's base, coincidentally. Stress and TFC are already there."

"What's going to happen?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I'm just going with the flow here, man." Tango was very unsure of himself, but continued, "When it gets down to it, I'll know."

As they look to the skies, Grian looked unconvinced.

~~~

If anyone was near the stock exchange, they would have heard shouting. A lot of it. As it happened, "anyone" turned out to be Mumbo, heading to the shopping district for some last-minute supplies.

He stuck his head into the station and, in between the bursts of surprisingly expletive-free fury, said, "Doc? You ok in here?"

A pause, a concerning crash, and Doc huffed his way into view. "Everything's fine."

Mumbo didn't take his hint and came closer, hopping the turnstile easily. "It doesn't sound like it. Besides, I asked if you were ok, and you didn't answer."

If looks could kill, the redstone contraption in the corner would have exploded. Mumbo briefly wondered if, with a few tweaks, Doc's eye could produce that effect. Or something similar. But it didn't, and the redstone build stayed in one piece. Doc sighed and walked over to an overturned shulker box spilling comparators, droppers, and other redstone bits and bobs over the floor.

As he shoved all the items back in the shulker box, he said, "Something is going on. Something's happening to me." He pointed at the build in the corner. "You know what that's supposed to be?"

Mumbo walked over to it and inspected the innards of it. Not even half a minute had passed before he answered, "I would think it would produce a sort of vending machine effect. Is that what you were going for?"

"Yes! It's supposed to dispense one stack of ender pearls or cookies when a diamond is deposited, but something is always wrong. Either the wrong item is dispensed, the wrong amount is, nothing happens; I know what's wrong each time. I fix it each time. But something else always pops up!" After a pause, Doc said, "I don't know what to do, and I'm at my wit's end here."

Now that Mumbo knew what Doc was trying to achieve, it took him all of a minute to find and fix the problem. He went back in front and said, "Try it now."

Doc put a diamond in the input chest and pressed the ender pearl button. He then stared at Mumbo in resignation as sixteen ender pearls hit him in the chest one by one.

"I guess it works now."

Doc kept staring at him. "What was it?"

"The timing of one repeater was off, giving only a partial stack," Mumbo answered, a bit concerned.

Doc placed a hand on the vending machine, lights flickering on his cybernetics. "I don't understand. Every time I fixed the timings..."

"Well, it's all working now. Really neat design, by the way."

"Heh. Thanks. Are you going to the event happening soon?"

"Yeah," Mumbo said, "I have to really see this stuff to believe it; this whole Elemental thing. I would say it's exciting, but..." He stopped. "Anyway, are you going?"

"No. I've got a bad feeling about it. Besides, I have," Doc looked down the tunnel, "other things to do."

"Well, good luck with those. Hopefully, they're not as stubborn as the vending machine," Mumbo said as he prepared to leave. "I'll see you around, mate."

As he left, he saw a curious scene: Doc, standing in the middle of the rail line, didn't seem to hear him. Staring down the tunnel, he was muttering and scratching his right arm. Mumbo didn't know what to make of it, and so took his leave.

Shopping driven from his mind, he had somewhere to be.

"Something's happening to me."

~~~

Getting to the gold farm was never as bad as getting back from it. Every hermit had forgotten to reequip their elytra at least once, some more than others.

Knowing this, Iskall and Python took extra care to double and triple check, to cross-verify, that both had their elytra equipt.

However, every time Iskall went to descend, something stopped him. He couldn't really explain it, like some internal force keeping him rooted to one spot. And the fear. There was nothing to be afraid of, he knew. He could hear the distant sound of Python, next to him, trying to get his attention. But it wasn't as loud as the voice.

Do not jump.

Iskall never saw the ghast.

~~~

Impulse was waiting; if you could call it that. Grian and Tango had arrived about an hour ago, and the latter said he needed to wait for the sun's zenith before he could continue. Impulse had asked what the zenith had to do with anything, Tango couldn't answer him. Said it was a 'gut feeling'. And since Impulse couldn't speed up the sun, he waited.

Various hermits had filtered in over the past hour. Zedaph was there, giving much-needed moral support to Impulse and Tango. False and Wels were ready to jump into X's Nether portal as soon as they were able. Mumbo had given Impulse a thumbs up when he arrived, too anxious to speak.

A few hermits weren't there. Joe, Cleo, and Scar were at the Ministry watching over Cub. Biffa, Jevin, Doc, and Ren all said they weren't coming, and Impulse didn't blame them. If he didn't have to be here, he most likely wouldn't be here.

Impulse heard movement; Tango was showing the other three 'avatars' to their corresponding spots around the altar. Stress to the North, Grian to the East, TFC to the West, and Tango himself to the South. They were interrupted by a buzz from their comms–

iskall85 fell from a high place

–and the world exploded into brilliant diamond blue light.

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marzipan-moon · 5 years

Text

A Human Heart

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts 3 Characters: Xemnas, Xigbar, Axel Summary: "Memories. A heart’s full of them. Squeeze it just right, and it all comes flooding back at once." // An exploration of Xemnas from Xigbar’s perspective, a discussion on matters of the heart. AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18192860

The strength of the human heart is vast. That’s what Xemnas had said, in a speech not so long ago. Most often, his speeches were more like inconsequential rambles. Old wives tails lost in spindlewheels, churned up memories and mix and match thoughts that never quite made a lick of sense. And man, was he appealing to the wrong crowd. Who even listened to that mighty king way up high on his throne, anymore?

Luxord, maybe. Sometimes he’d wonder to himself if they spoke the same alien language. A babble beyond his comprehension, the dialect you gain when your life gets shaped by those faraway concepts like ‘destiny’ and ‘fate’.

Ha. Yeah… Maybe so.

But something about what Xemnas had said in that speech… something about it was just real. Something raw, for once. Unfiltered. Because not only was that strength supposed to be vast, but he wished to ‘never again’ allow it to have ‘power over’ them. Now, wasn’t that just something. “What do you think he meant, Axel?” He mused aloud, breaking his own chain of thoughts. His voice echoed through those dreary corridors, wrapping round the match-stick man with his shock of hair, those shifty snake mint eyes darting to meet his own.

“… Thought you’d be the one to ask. Don’t you write all his speeches?”

“As if. The man gets a lot of time to think up this stuff in-between moon-talk,” Xigbar said, lazily steeping towards Axel. “But I’d say that was a pretty good one, this time around. Must have been feeling inspired.” For a manipulative assassin, Axel’s eyes betrayed him easy. The kid’s emotions were just so obvious. Everything about him screamed ‘please don’t talk to me’, stiff shoulders and those cold glances betraying his suspicions. “Hey, relax! It’s alright, I’m not trying to quiz you or anything. Scar’s in the wrong place for that,” he lifted a hand, hastily drawing an x over his forehead.

That seemed to do the trick, prompted a laugh at any rate. A chuckle. Maybe more of a ‘huh’, a sigh.

“C’mon. You’re fishing for something - what is you want me to say?” Axel folded his arms, tilting his head. “The usual party line? It’ll be cool when we’re all on the other side, ruling our own little world with our own little hearts. Thanks boss-man, you really came through for us.” “Ha,” Xigbar half-laughed, half-smirked. “You’re really giving me a grilling all because of a simple question. Why? Did I twist your buttons?” He leaned forwards, letting Axel get a good look as he raised his eyebrows. “Well let me just pop another one right off for you. What’s the human heart mean to you?” His eye narrowed, the gold dulling. Axel’s face didn’t betray too much this time around - maybe just a bit of irritation. But, hey. Beats doing missions, right? He slowed on down to a stop, accepting he was going to be here a while and leaned against the wall. “The human heart, right?” He leaned his head up against the wall, that smoulder of red framing his face like a lion’s mane.

“Don’t think there’s any other kind worth talking about.” Xigbar said, leaning on air - his own makeshift wall pushing against his back.

“Hmm… I don’t remember what it’s like, not really. All I’ve got’s memories - same as you. Can’t say I recall being stronger with it, though. Might say I was quite the opposite.” Memories. A heart’s full of them. Squeeze it just right, and it all comes flooding back at once. “Yeah? I guess that’s right. You were just a kid, back then. Fresh as a daisy. Then you went ahead and grew up all withered, like a dandelion. Must be weird. Growing up hollow.”

“… Sheesh,” Axel started tapping his feet, glancing to the side. “Way to make it personal.”

“Everything about what we’re doing is personal,” he cut back, grin slipping from his face. “Just like to go about it in an impersonal way. We all have reasons why we want our heart’s back. And I think I understand them all - nearly, that is. Just you I’ve got as a big fat blank. You and your blue-haired pal.” “Well. Maybe,” he said, pushing himself up from the wall. “I just wanna get some peace and quiet. Time away from all this introspection. Yeah. That’s it. When I get a heart - I’m going to do all kinds of things… like not giving a damn about why anything.” “And…” He turned his back on Xigbar, glancing briefly over his shoulder as he waved a dark portal into existence. “He’s not my pal. He’s my boss, right? Yours too. Kinda. Never have worked out what that deal is about.” The tips of Xigbar’s lips started to curl. Yeah. That bitterness betrays something else, buddy. Waving a pointed finger, Axel whistled, “Righty, I’m out. See you later, old man.” “Go ahead. Be good. Keep that kid working hard.” Batting his hand back at him, the man disappeared through the corridor, taking his distinct scent with him. Bye bye.

You know. There wasn’t all that much to do in looming, empty corridor, so Xigbar went ahead to take this opportunity to go visit someone else. A very important someone else, as it turned out. The very same they’d been talking about. Speak of the devil and…? Oh wait, that’s right. He’s not running anywhere.

Ha ha.

“Xemnas, we got a problem.” Kingdom Hearts burned a vibrant hole in the sky, her empty chest all hollowed out. Such a poetic lie. The room seemed to pulse with its false energy, a throbbing that was all at once euphoric and unbearable. How Xemnas could stand bathing in this atmosphere was beyond him. “We planted seeds, and looks like a couple of them have gone rotten. Might turn the whole field fallow.” The atmosphere tightened, Kingdom Heart’s gravity giving him a whole load of issues trying to pinpoint anything at all. But he sure felt that. That shift. Like a groan in his stomach, twisting up all his organs.

“A fallow field may be exactly what we must reap.” Oh.

Xemnas’s head lolled, his arms falling by his sides. Turning to face him, Xigbar saw the pain that worried his expression. For a guy who talked a whole lot about feeling nothing, that face moved in every shade of emotive. “Come here. Let me see the bounties of my harvest.” There wasn’t much choice in this. Never was.

Nodding, Xigbar stepped cautiously towards the man, those amber eyes never quite focussing on him. “Yes… The seeds in your heart appear to have taken deep root. Soon, there may nothing left of the soil.” Xemnas stared right at him and right through him all at once, his expression still oddly pained. “Don’t have a heart, remember…?” He said, weakly. They both knew this lie. Would laugh about it, sometimes, lit by the glow of that plastic moon. Xemnas wasn’t laughing today. He just looked… sad. About to try and steer the conversation on back to the potential traitors to their little game, Xemnas moved and it was like his mouth was sewn shut. A warm hand was suddenly on his shoulder, those eyes brighter than the pale glow of Kingdom Hearts. He knew what this meant.It was not long until those firm fingers departed from his shoulder, winding instead to the nape of his neck, gripping the curve of his hair-tie. He opened his mouth, “Xe-“ “Silence.” Fine. He bowed his head, letting Xemnas slip the bauble from his hair. The room seemed different, then. The glow growing more cold. Not like they hadn’t danced this dance before. Whole lifetimes of this, different vessels, same story. Not like it couldn’t be enjoyable, even if both of them knew that wasn’t at all the main purpose, not at all. So why was Xigbar feeling so fucking tense? Xemnas seemed to tower over him, the tips of his hair the only parts of him that seemed to catch the light of that moon. Even those ember eyes seemed burnt out. Come on. Just do it. What are you waiting for? This lifetime doesn’t seem to be the kind that particularly likes when I take the lead, so can you just hurry this little show along? Xeha- Those fingers returned to his hair, brushing along his scalp in a way that shot tingling stars right down his spine. What -? Xemnas was… Tying up his hair? A high pony this time, with one long strand pulled forwards into makeshift bangs. Must have looked a mess, without a brush - but Xemnas approached it with such focus, such tenderness… Xigbar’s insides squirmed, embarrassment slapping his cheeks. “This is new, but… whatever suits you.” He ignored him. Didn’t even tell him to shut up. Punish him for his cheek, just like the old coot would have done. No. Xemnas was a whole different being entirely, transported to a totally different plane. “You like what you see?” He asked, coyness somehow feeling totally out of place. Damn it, with Demyx or Luxord this kind of confidence would come easy - but with the way those words just pitter-pattered off Xemnas’s chest without giving an inch… It made the blush on his face worsen, his eye tilting downwards. Xemnas suddenly lost it. The soft hands on his face gripped down, Xigbar’s eye flaring open and staring up accusingly. No. No, no no no - we’ve done this before, this tango where you steal my heart. You don’t need to do that again, we don’t - The fingers softened again, but the tension remained shot through his shoulders. The touch was different this time, more possessive. Crueller, perhaps. More familiar. “Enough of this insolence.” He could deal with this. Yeah, he could deal with this. “Do not forget that I was the one who did this to your face.” Which side was he talking about? Just who exactly was he talking as? Yellow eye narrowed, the socket vaguely stung. “Okay, okay. I’ve got the message. It’s… It’s alright.” Avoiding names just in case we got another ‘It’s Ansem’ situation, he focussed on trying to diffuse all this. “I’ll keep it zipped. I promise.” Now, where they going to move onto the action or wha- Xemnas remained silent, but his hands were now touching his face. Erratically, as though in utter disbelief. His expressions shifted between the usual long-suffering wide-eyed gaze and something closer to ecstatic joy. A sense of absolution. Of something white hot and intense that Xigbar could not even begin to understand until - Until those fingers ran gently across his scars.Something tender, so tender, the kind of touch you reserve for a sick kitten. A mix of pity and reverence. A touch for a ghost.

It’s not Xemnas that’s staring down at him.

And it’s not Xigbar that he’s seeing. He closed his eye. He didn’t want to see it, not anymore - that haunted expression. That man who was touching a ghost. Terra. You’re still in there, aren’t you? Burrowed your way in, nice and deep. Go on. Why don’t you say that name. That name you so desperately want to call me. Think I can squeeze in one more nickname, how about that - just for you?

Eraqus had these scars too, didn’t he. Same cause, too. This feeling… these weird, displaced, fragile feeling - he wish he’d just fucked him. He wish he’d just held his head down and went for it, it would be so much easier to bear than this. Hurts, doesn’t it? Well. Good thing the strength of a human heart is vast. Right, Xemnas? Lifting his hands, Xigbar - oh so carefully, far too cautiously - wrapped his arms around him. An embrace. For old times sake. Fingers that pressed hard against the man’s back, hoping to suppress the shaking. Terra - Xehanort, whoever it was, they didn’t respond. But it was okay. Something about the stillness was all that they needed. A moment of silence later, and the man released him. Turned, then, to Kingdom Hearts. Hands stretching back up towards the moon. Reaching for some distant memory, echoing from some shattered chasm. “Almighty Kingdom Hearts, we shall soon be one. A higher existence awaits us both.” Will you feel whole again, then? Is that what you hope for? Xigbar touched his face, undid that messy ponytail. That’s enough pretend, for now. We’ll talk about Axel some other day, he guessed. With a wave, he vanished into the darkness - leaving this room to its pining.

#Xigbar #Xemnas #Axel #Kingdom Hearts #kingdom hearts fanfiction #ty so much for reading <3 #writing

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whiskeytangofrogman · 7 years

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scarred hands (but whole hearts)

DexNursey 1.4k H/C I guess? Who knows. Have this thing

The hands are scarred.

(The hands are always scarred, this is hockey there are scars everywhere, Derek, get over yourself-)

The hands are scarred. Will’s hands, not the, he has a name even though, Derek thinks, he’s fully intent on making Derek forget that, and Derek’s own, and everything else but the feel of his knuckles as they drag across cheekbone. Derek’s fucked.

Will snaps. “Nurse, hey, you in there?”

He blinks. “Yes.”

Will tilts his chin, hums as he frowns. He clicks his tongue, and then removes his hands from Derek’s face. “You’re fine.” He turns, and cups his hand over his mouth as he shouts. “Be a little careful next time, Tango! This is pick-up, not a full-on game.”

Tango calls something back, but Derek doesn’t hear. His head is swimming from where Tango knocked him over trying to get at the puck, and he fell, arms wheeling, right back onto the ice. He’d knocked his head, just a bit. It didn’t hurt, per se, but it sure didn’t feel good. Will had been at his side at an instant, and Derek blames the way he looks in tight jeans and the green flannel that brings out the warmth in his eyes for the reason why he feels like he’s underwater. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to change into his pads yet, too busy talking to Ransom, before Derek had fallen and made a scene skidding across the ice.

“Will?”

Will turns back to him, and arches an eyebrow. “Yeah?” He looks surprised. Derek wonders why.

“My head feels funky?”

Will sighs. “Alright.” He sighs and pushes Derek down from where he’d tried to stand, and gives him a firm look before skating off. He comes back a few moments later, and yanks Derek to his feet. “We’re going to your dorm.”

Derek blinks. “Why?”

“Because you’re done for the day.” Derek casts a look over his shoulder, and then shrugs. He doesn’t especially mind. Pond hockey isn’t really his thing.

“Take your pads off.” Derek starts to undress, peeling off his pads by the side of the rink and tossing them back in his bag. Will does the same, going at it with a militaristic concentration, movements sharp and jerky.

Derek pulls his hoodie over his underarmor, and slings his bag over his shoulder. He follows will away from the pond and towards his dorm. Will walks a few steps in front of him, quiet, shoulders in a tense line. They’re usually like that though, so it’s not that that’s necessarily worrying to Derek.

It’s how quiet he’s being, not even chirping Derek for getting railed into by Tango, and then being clumsy enough to fall onto his ass, even though being knocked into by huge hockey players is supposedly what he’s supposed to be good at, being defense and all.

“Are you mad at me?” The words slip out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

Will’s sure footsteps stutter, and he half turns to look at Derek over one shoulder. “No? Should I be?”

Derek shrugs. “You seem mad.”

Will gives him a smile, half-turn of his lips, self-depreciating. “I’m usually mad, right?”

Derek pushes the few extra feet until his steps line up with Will’s. “Not like this.” He frowns. “If you’re mad, you should tell me.”

They’d promised to start talking about their issues, after a particularly huge riff at the beginning of the semester that culminated in neither talking to one another for near two weeks.

Will sighs, and they walk in silence all the way back to his dorm. Derek lets him stew in whatever he’s dealing with. Sometimes, he gets over it. Usually though, he gets over his pride, and actually talks about what’s bugging him. Derek hopes it’s the latter.

Will waits for Derek to unlock the door, and set his bag down, before speaking. “I’m not mad.” He turns the light on, and takes Derek’s desk chair, watching as Derek flings himself on the bed.

“You seem mad.”

Derek watches Will wrestle with himself, lets him figure out how to phrase whatever he’s going to say. It’s a delicate balance they’ve reached, but Derek’s figured out to let Will have time to string together words (the reason they fought, mostly, is because Derek’s domain is words, and he wasn’t used to it not being other people’s).

“I’m concerned.” Derek lifts an eyebrow, gestures for him to continue. “When Tango hit you, and you went down, I was concerned. You hadn’t put on your helmet yet. We can’t afford to have you out.”

Derek snorts. “Worried Hall would pair you up with Whiskey?”

Will laughs. It’s hollow. “Yeah.”

Derek sits up, draws his knees to his chest and stares, pondering. “That’s not it though, is it? That’s not why you were concerned.”

Annoyance flashes over Will’s face. “Of course it was. Why else would I be concerned?”

Derek rolls his eyes, pushes himself until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, their knees a foot apart. He sticks his foot out to knock against Will’s. “You’re allowed to say you were concerned because we’re friends.”

Will huffs. “Sure. I was concerned because we’re friends.”

Derek grins, and reaches out to swat his shoulder. “That wasn’t so hard.” He leans back on his hands, and looks at Will. “My head doesn’t feel weird anymore. I didn’t actually, uh, hit it? So we can probably go back.” He didn’t think it ever felt weird because of any injury related purposes anyway. He doesn’t want to think about the way Will’s hands brushing concerned lines across his cheekbones and tilting his chin made him feel fuzzy and stupid-

That’s not a road he can afford to go down.

Will frowns. “It’s not worth it to go back now, they’re probably almost done.” They probably weren’t, but Derek wasn’t going to argue. “Are you sure you’re head’s okay, though?”

Derek shrugs. “As okay as it’ll ever be.”

Will looks like he’s about to say something else, and then stands, abruptly. “Well, I guess I’ll go then.”

“Okay.” Derek stands, and hands him his bag. “Sorry I-”

“No, no it’s okay-”

“Really, though-”

Will sets a hand on Derek’s chest. “Really, it’s fine.”

Derek swallows, hard. “Alright.”

Will turns toward the door, and opens it, stopping in the open doorway. “Bye.”

Derek lifts a hand, confused. He feels like he’s been solving in a puzzle with only half the pieces, only parts of the picture available to him. The edge pieces are there, but the entire middle is… gone. Scattered.

A knock interrupts his musing. He opens the door. It’s Will.

“Fuck it.” Will says, and before Derek can ask, Will’s tossed his bag to the floor and crowded Derek up against the doorframe. “Can I-”

Derek watches as Will’s eyes flick to his parted mouth, and then back to his eyes. He barely gets the beginning of a yes out before Will’s on him, hands cupping either side of his face, gentle, ever-so-gentle.

Derek blinks when Will pulls back, floored. “I-”

Will backs up. “Sorry, I just.” He rubs the back of his neck, frustrated and flushed with embarrassment. “I-”

Derek yanks him inside and slams the door behind him. “What the hell.”

Will goes for the doorknob, stuttering out half apologies mixed with sputtering. Derek bats at his hand. “Stop apologising. What the hell?”

Will sighs, slumps against the wood of the door. “I was concerned because hockey is a dangerous sport, and I like you.”

Derek’s found some of the pieces, but there’s considerable portions of this puzzle missing. “And?”

“And every time you get hurt, I flip out. And today I saw you go down and you hadn’t put on your fucking helmet yet, and what if you got a concussion, Derek, that would be-”

“-Something that happens in the sport we play, Will.” Derek says, amused, and pleased. A warm feeling spreads through his chest, sickly-sweet affection for the man standing in front of him. “It’s gonna happen, it has happened.” He steps closer.

“I know, it’s just.” Will looks up, meets Derek’s eyes. “I keep thinking that, I mean, what if you got hurt, and what if I never got the chance to tell you how much you mean to me? Not even, romantically. Just like, as a friend.”

Derek snorts, grins. “You don’t really press your friends up against doors and french them, Will.”

He buries his face in his hands, and lets out a frustrated noise, and then a high-pitched giggle. “I hate you.”

Derek closes the last of the space between them, settling his hands on Will’s hips and leaning in. Will drops his hands, and settles them on Derek’s arms. “I don’t think that’s true at all.”

Will smiles, leans closer. “Probably not.”

#kylie writes #dexnursey #nurseydex #omgcheckplease #this will be on ao3....... eventually #the title is a work in progress lmao

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