Writing Randomness (Headcanons, AUs, One-shots, etc)

{With Passion}

TW: Cutting, stabbing, implied death, suicide, insane Mumbo, and Grumbo.

:)

-~-

The blade reflected the evening sun, casting rays of golden light around the room. The enchantments coating the blade danced in harmony with the sun, purple and orange weaving together.

Mumbo sighed, placing the blade over his arm. This wasn't anything new; he'd been cutting for years now. It helped him to take his mind off of his never-ending work.

The other Hermits had noticed him getting slightly more chaotic and unfocused whenever they interacted. His voice, once calm and stately, now took on an insane edge. His mustache was no longer groomed to perfection, his suit askew, redstone covering his unkempt face.

While concerned, no one ever thought anything more of it. They disregarded it as personality development, a growing of his character.

But no, it was more than that. The isolation, the starvation, the overworking til he was sleep deprived. Like, actually sleep deprived, not just Hermit-level sleep deprived.

His base needed to be fed constantly, there was Grumbot and Jrumbot to worry about, Pacific, ODEA, the industrial district; so much, and so little time.

The grin grew on his face as he slid the knife across his skin.

This. This is what helped him escape. The pain, the agony, the blood.

He could never tell the Hermits, no. They would call him a monster and kick him out.

No one could ever see. They couldn't know the things he had done, to himself and others. The things that he sees, he hears. The experiences, the shadows that no one but him can see.

He knew that the Hermits hated him. Dead weight, he was, just there for the laughing factor.

The crimson life force dripped down his arm and onto the floor of the bathroom.

No, no one could ever know. They would think he was seeking attention from others, a psychopath.

No, no, no.

No.

No.

More and more the knife cut into his skin, the blood falling to the already-stained grass.

A cut for each Hermit for every time they kept telling themselves that Mumbo was ok.

A cut for when Grian left a bouquet of flowers at his base in pity.

A cut for when Iskall dropped off a redstone gift box.

A cut for all the times when X offered for Mumbo to come over for tea.

Lies lies lies lies.

No one cares about you.

No one has even noticed you.

They hate you.

Monster.

Liar.

Traitor.

Insane.

Mumbo collapsed to the ground, kneeling forward as the tears flowed from his eyes, his head spinning from the blood loss.

He fell to his side, curling in on himself, the knife still clutched in his hands.

As he closed his eyes, he heard a voice call out, a voice that once brought him joy to hear, a voice that had comforted him.

"Mumbo?" Grian said from the outside.

Mumbo cursed from where he sat down in his storage system room, praying that Grian wouldn't come down.

He did.

Mumbo could hear Grian's wings flap as he descended down into the depths of the base, seeing Mumbo's limp body and running over to him, screaming, "MUMBO!!!! WHO THE BLOODY HELL IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD FUC-" Grian paused as he saw the knife, Mumbo's wrists, the blood.

Grian took in a shuddering breath, Mumbo starting to cry again. "Mumbo, I love you, you know that, right?"

Lies his head chanted. Lies lies lies lies-

"B-But-"

Grian reaches out to stroke Mumbo's hair with his hand. "We all love you. You're our best friend, Mumbo. Whatever it is that you think we are, I promise I will listen to your every word. I'll be there for whatever you need, whenever you need it." Grian moved his other hand into Mumbo's empty hand, the blood coating his fingers. "I'm not mad for any of this, and you don't need to be scared that the other will be either. We do love you; you're family, and even more to me." Grian's words were filled with a burning passion, overflowing with love.

Mumbo was torn. Part of him wanted to believe Grian that everyone did still love him, and that what had happened doesn't make him a monster.

The other half screamed that it was all a lie and that no one wanted him anymore. He was just a waste of space, one more useless person to share the air.

Mumbo closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath, nodding his head slightly.

Grian smiled kindly, and asked, "May I kiss you?"

Mumbo nodded again, smiling.

Grian leaned in, their lips meeting. He kissed with fiery passion, sparks almost forming in the air around them.

Mumbo was going to miss kissing Grian.

He slowly lifted his hand around Grian's wings, pulling him in deeper to the kiss before backing off for a breath.

"No one can know," he whispered, before his plunging the knife into Grian, the confused expression on the builder's face morphing into sadness and pain, and his breaths became more and more ragged.

Grian's muscles loosened, the winged Hermit falling limp in Mumbo's arms, his chest barely rising.

Mumbo laughed, pulling out the knife before placing it once again over his wrist.

Right over an important artery.

He brought the knife down, cutting it.

"No one needs... to... know..."

-~-

Ah, that was fun to write.

;)

-M <3