Hermitcraft Oneshots

Sorry about the sheep - Grumbo (angst/comfort)

846 words. Vampire Mumbo au, set whenever. In this, Grumbo could be seen platonically or romantically I guess. It mentions self hatred, and originally I was planning on writing it as crack but I think it turned out a bit too serious for that lol. Also lets say that Mumbo can be in sunlight without burning here.

It was a happy day on the Hermitcraft server - the sun was shining, the cows were mooing, the air was warm and the most recent Barge upgrade had turned out fantastically. All was right with the world for a certain mischievous gremlin.

However, all was not right with the world for a certain vampire.

In fact, Mumbo would even go as far as to say that the world was terribly, terribly wrong at this point in time. Really, it would be better if an asteroid were to hit and obliterate everything within a million mile radius if it meant he didn't have to face the shame of what he'd just done.

He sighed, looking sadly at the sheep's limp and blood-drained body. It wasn't so much the fact it was dead that was the problem (after all, sheep die everyday for the benefit of all the hermits), but the way in which it had died.

Mumbo had been working on a project in the industrial district, and he'd lost track of time, and eventually lost track of his food supply. When he realised, it was too late. He had tried to get to his base to get one of the many sheep or cows he kept in a secret room in time, he really had, but he'd failed.

Instinct took over mere minutes too soon, and upon seeing Grian's small but modest collection of sheep behind his mansion, he - or, rather, the vampire in him - took the opportunity and drank one. He'd nearly gone for another, but had just about regained enough self-awareness to stop himself.

And so that's where he was now, feeling the guilt rise up in him. He hated when his instinct took over, he hated having no self control, he hated when he allowed himself to do things like this. For heaven's sake, he was meant to be keeping this whole vampire thing a secret!

He sank to the ground as uninvited tears spilled out of him. Doing things like this reminded him of how weak he could be, they reminded him of how he was different. His finger's traced his bloody fangs, and he just wished they weren't there. Through blurred vision, he looked at his hand. Why was it so pale? Couldn't it just be normal? There was blood on it, and on his shirt and blazer sleeve. Innocent blood that should not have been spilled the way it had been.

He wished the sheep were still alive and ignorant, he wished he hadn't given it a painful death. He wished he hadn't lost himself.

"Mumbo!" A happy, energetic voice called. An innocent voice. One that would never think the usually kind hearted redstone genius to be a brutal and animalistic murderer. Mumbo pulled his legs closer and ducked his head. Grian couldn't see the blood. He couldn't see his literal and figurative red hands. "Are you okay?" Such an unsuspecting voice. Then the vampire realised there was the body 2 metres away from him and presumably blood on the stone floor right where he sat. There was no point hiding it.

"Grian I'm so sorry, I killed your sheep." He knew he was crying, but he didn't expect himself to sound so... pathetic. As he said it, he turned to Grian, still kneeling, still crying, still covered in blood, and just begged for mercy. "I lost track of time," his speech was broken by sobs and sniffs, "and then the instinct took over," at this point he gave up on staying sat up and instead leaned his head onto the ground, still begging, "and then, and then, I'm so sorry Grian."

"Hey, it's okay," his voice soothed. In his broken state, Mumbo hadn't noticed Grian kneel down beside him. He felt an arm wrap around his back.

"But it's not, I shouldn't've, I-" he leaned into Grian's chest, in which he fit moderately well considering the height difference.

"Don't worry, it's fine, I don't mind." Grian said, bringing his best friend into a hug.

"But I can't let myself get like that Grian, I have no control, I should've learnt that by now." His crying was slowing but words were flooding out of him in place of the tears. "And I- I-"

"Shh, don't worry. Things happen." Grian started rubbing his back, hoping to calm him down. "Breathe deep breaths." Mumbo obeyed. They stayed like that for a minute, while Grian tried his best to make comforting movements.

"Don't you hate me?" He asked after calming a little, looking up into Grian's dark eyes.

"Why would you think that?" Grian asked, fondly wiping a tear away.

"I'm a vampire." He looked down, aware that he was still a mess with 'guilty murderous vampire' written all over him in blood.

"I would never hate you, Mumbo Jumbolio, don't you dare think I ever could." Grian said, tightening the hug.

"Okay." He said, replaying the words in his head. He always thought that the day one of the hermits found out, they'd reject him, but here he was, being accepted. "Thank you." He mumbled. Grian replied by pulling him a bit closer and kissing the top of his head.