The Hermits shared a bond of trust and camaraderie, but there was one thing that had remained a mystery-Xisuma's appearance beneath his ever-present space suit. He had never once removed his helmet or armor in front of anyone. The curiosity surrounding it grew over time, with whispers of what lay under the suit. No one was more intrigued, or concerned, than Keralis. Keralis had always been the observant one, noticing the subtle signs that something wasn't quite right. Xisuma's movements were stiff, and the suit, though impressive, looked increasingly worn. The helmet, especially, appeared to be in desperate need of repairs, and the weight of the armor surely took a toll on his body. Keralis couldn't help but worry. Staying in that suit for extended periods couldn't be healthy, no matter how resilient Xisuma was. The pressure of the heavy armor and the way the helmet seemed to restrict his movements only added to his concern. Despite the mystery, Keralis never pressed. He respected Xisuma's privacy, knowing that trust was sacred among the Hermits. But that didn't stop him from wondering: What if there was more to the story? What if Xisuma wasn't just hiding his appearance, but something deeper-something personal? The thought nagged at Keralis. The space suit was an enigma, and Xisuma's insistence on wearing it at all times only fueled his curiosity. What would it take to get Xisuma to take it off, even just for a moment? He wasn't sure, but one thing was clear: Keralis would do whatever he could to ensure Xisuma wasn't silently struggling in that suit, even if it meant confronting the one mystery he couldn't quite solve. art is not mine

After being banished for 10 years, it's unlikely for someone to return to a server they've been banned from-unless their name is Xavier, or Evil Xisuma as everyone calls him. Xavier was locked in the void for a decade due to a prank gone wrong, leading to his extended banishment. Initially, he was supposed to be banned for only 10 days, but he was forgotten as people got distracted. The void changed Xavier significantly, making him incredibly guarded and distrustful of the other hermits, including his brother. Xavier became a recluse, hiding from everyone. He moved frequently to avoid being found, always ready to flee. He avoided forming close relationships to prevent any incidents that might lead to another banishment. Wels has a brother named Helsknight, who is much like their admin, known for causing mischief and chaos, but he never got banned. Wels often spoke about how guarded Xavier had become, noting that no one knew what happened to him in the void. Since both Helsknight and Xavier were technically the evil forms of their brothers, Wels decided to ask Helsknight if it would be wise for them to befriend Xavier.

kind of teased in the new chapter of villainous woman stories. but that got me thinking about it so now? I have to

Heavy trigger warning for death heavy The chapter RIP is just getting started, and I mean death as in child death parental death drug use everything. The war against the Mycelium Resistance had been long, an endless strain on mayor Scar's heart and mind. Every decision, a weight; every choice, a shadow. He wasn't naive enough to believe that the cost of this battle didn't reach beyond his own soul. Friends had been lost, alliances fractured, and innocence shattered. But in the end, the mycelium had to be stopped-he was the only one who could do it, even if it meant sacrificing pieces of himself along the way. Beneath the veil of Hot Guy, a guise as much as a shield, he fought in the night, struggling against the twisted children of Mother Spore. But it wasn't until the moon hung heavy in the sky, blood-red, that she finally revealed herself. Silent at first, lurking in the dark, her presence like the weight of an ancient curse, watching him from the edges of his awareness. One night, she would step into the open, and the true battle would begin. But would he be ready? Or would the spores that clung to the very air around him take root, entwining his fate with hers in ways he could never predict? The battle against the spores was only the beginning. The true enemy was closer than he ever knew, and she was watching, waiting for the moment to strike.

The original story of fetal kiss of Faith without any time jumps or anything starting with mother spore an enigma of a woman that no one really bothered to get close to life made her cruel and predictive became a villainous woman bound to her chaotic energy to destroy the city. then we have Hawkeye the city is number one superhero determined on stopping or understanding her though she doesn't make it easy barely letting him even get it off on her at hers with her mycelium powers. art is not mine

art isn't mine Scar was the picture of simplicity. He loved his two cats, had a passion for technology, and found fulfillment in teaching others. By day, he was an unassuming man with a knack for gadgets and a soft heart. But by night, he became Hot Guy-a no-nonsense vigilante bringing criminals to justice. Fearless and relentless, he fought his way through the city's darkest corners, ensuring every villain ended up behind bars. With a strict code and unshakable focus, Hot Guy was the city's unofficial protector. Grian, however, lived a life of constant upheaval. Jobs slipped through his fingers, and no city ever felt like home. His mistrust of others kept him on the move, and the fear that haunted him turned his interactions cold. But in the shadows, Grian became someone else: Cute Guy. Sassy, flirtatious, and sharp-tongued, Cute Guy was a wildcard, not an official hero but an informant who danced on the edge of the law. He loved to toy with those who crossed his path, using charm and wit to manipulate the underworld. Though never committed to the hero's cause, Cute Guy always knew how to get what he wanted. When Hot Guy is suddenly compromised-captured and incapacitated-chaos descends on the city. Without its hero, the streets become overrun with criminals, more dangerous than ever. But Cute Guy, despite his reputation for keeping things light, knows there's more at stake. The one person he'd never admit to caring for was in danger, and that pushed Cute Guy into action. Armed with his cleverness, a network of contacts, and his talent for turning enemies into unwitting allies, he infiltrates the criminal underworld to find Hot Guy. As the clock ticks, Cute Guy faces a world he's only flirted with from the sidelines. No longer just an observer, Grian is thrust into the role of an unlikely savior. The sassy flirt has to become a hero in his own right, proving that sometimes, the best way to fight isn't with fists-but with finesse.

Martyn was born blind and has always relied heavily on his hearing to navigate and understand the world around him. He walks with a cane, and his eyes are always closed-he doesn't even know what color they are, nor has he ever thought to ask. For him, the world has always been cloaked in darkness. That began to change when he discovered a small spark of magic within himself. With time and practice, he learned to use it to "paint" mental images of people and places in his mind. Through subtle differences in tone, mood, and cadence, he could distinguish colors-hearing the warmth of a sunset in a laugh, or the chill of blue in a hushed whisper. Over the years, he also honed his ability to read body language-not through sight, but through sound. The shifting of feet, the rhythm of someone's breath, the way fabric brushed against itself as someone turned-all of it became a symphony of cues that told him what others could see with their eyes. Martyn often kept to himself, sitting quietly in the corner of a room with a Braille book in his hands, lost in the raised dots beneath his fingers. Most people didn't approach him. Whether it was discomfort or uncertainty, he had grown used to being left alone. But that all changed the day a new transfer student joined the theater program. Curious and unafraid, they noticed Martyn sitting by himself and, rather than shy away, felt drawn to him. For the first time in a long while, Martyn's quiet world began to shift-not just with sound and magic, but with the unexpected rhythm of connection.

art is not mine. Poultry Man, that pesky bird, has been challenging Hot Guy and messing with him throughout existence, presumably after the pesky bird himself moved to Hermit Town. He's the most annoying supervillain ever, but Hot Guy has definitely started to rely on him when he gets captured. He's not sure why, but every time he does get captured, he can't help but feel a sense of relief seeing the villain himself come and pull him out. One day, unfortunately, in civilian life, Scar goes to his favorite coffee shop bookstore to see his favorite clerk, but he's not there. Instead, he talks to the other clerk, Mumbo, just to find out that the poor man had gotten pretty sick and that he was practically bedridden.

Scar stays awake and starts to hear scratching in his attic unaware of what it could be he calls his bestie.

Prince Ren never asked for a crown, nor the weight of titles. All he wanted was to play music-gentle, aching melodies strummed on delicate string instruments. He preferred lutes carved from silverwood and dark rose, guitars that hummed like whispers in the wind, and a weathered ocarina shaped like a teardrop, soft blue and always warm in his hands. The music was his comfort, his rebellion, and his quiet prayer. When the castle halls echoed with the fury of yet another war-when his family shouted about borders, bloodlines, and broken alliances-Ren would slip away. He would wander down secret paths only he remembered, through the whispering trees and into the Outcast: a forgotten grove hidden beneath a blanket of old magic and ivy. There, surrounded by peace and silence, he built a sanctuary. His instruments were stored in hollowed trunks, carefully wrapped in velvet and tucked away from the wrath of his father, who believed music was weakness and tried to destroy every string Ren cherished. Beyond the grove, just past the moss-covered stones, was his garden-his true kingdom. It bloomed wildly with flowers the color of fire and dusk: deep reds, scarlets, and wine-dark crimsons. Vines heavy with red fruit twisted through the branches, fragrant and sweet, tangled like forgotten lullabies. The air was thick with the scent of crushed petals and ripe berries, warm earth and song. And in the heart of it all, Ren would sit and play. Unbeknownst to him, the sorrow in his songs, the ache in every note, stirred something old and hidden beneath the soil. His music, filled with longing and beauty, began to call to magic itself-something ancient, something listening, something waiting to be found.