Mooner Sleepovers are like any other sleepover, with the exception that they never really go to sleep! 🌙💤
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For the fic title ask, The Rest Hasn't Happened Yet
this is a hard one ooughghgh
tried my best, so here's two summaries or drabbles or teasers or whatever you want to call them!!!
1) Renchantyn potential is real is this one
Martyn misses simplicity. He misses wandering around without an aim, he misses gathering wood for building and baking. He misses when he could sit back, with a friend by his side, and watch the stars in an open field. Moonlight, petrichor, and peace.
Now, all Martyn has, is constant fear. Fear of being attacked, of losing those close to him, of making one wrong step and derailing all his plans. But now all that fear is gone. All that fear is gone, and those who he once loved have died at his own hands. His own blood stained, trembling, tired hands. He's a winner, he tells himself. But when can a winner rest at ease?
2) Mooners
"Do you suppose my bed is collecting dust?" The statement brings Grian to a chuckle, and despite his tired eyes, he seems content.
"No but seriously, Grian. I don't think- It hasn't been that long, right? I mean, you've gotta think about that."
The stars seem to hang lower than normal, and the light of the moon almost feels ticklish against Mumbo's cheeks as he lies on the grass beside his friend.
"Sounds like you'd have a hell of a laundry load if you want to sleep the night uninterrupted by sneezes, then. That makes two of us."
"Nah," Mumbo replies. "I think I'd rather sleep on the spot." The moustached man laughs as if joking, yet Grian knows full well he means it.
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tw: body horror
(it’s the finished piece of mooners/watchers grian)
i think i forgot to post this????
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[Ruta ermita de Santa Elena, 2022] • • • #ermitadesantaelena #biescas #anochece #yosoylunatico #mooners #biescascorazóndelospirineos💚 #aragon #senderismo #detallesdondeloshayes #vscocam #composition #instagood (en Biescas) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqU3YIpjXdw/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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The Moon reflects light.
For how bright it shines at night, how important it is to life... it feels wrong. How can something be both so important and so unoriginal? Why is it that, when moths must find their way, they look to the Moon and not the Sun? Why is it that when the ocean tides ebb away from the beaches, it's the Moon they're reaching to?
Phantoms spawn at night, their laughs echoing across the mountain ranges. Their wings swoop overhead, their jaws open as their joyous howls screech past my ears. I duck my head, waiting for day, when laughs turn to dying cries.
When I'm sitting by the temple, lit by artificial lights, why is it the Moon's reflection I focus on and not my own? Drops of water or a landing bug may ripple and disturb the surface, but the Moon's glow is unmistakable. While it rains, the water in this sacred pond refuses to show me a clear view of myself. I wouldn't have recognized it anyway.
While I hear factories churning and producing in the distance, or the creaking of the new observatory's telescope, I am reminded of my ignorance and the burden that I am. When I hear the rolling of a wheelchair or a swoop of elytra, I wonder when I will be able to move on my own. Would anyone want to help if I never am? Would I be worth it?
I spend another night at the altar, its blue flames illuminate my skin in deathly light. I plead for help, reminded of the ever-looming presence above as I am gripped and torn from the ground. I float for a moment, another cry caught in my throat as I am rendered helpless by the weight of gravity that is threatening my home. It feels wrong, but I know nothing else. I cry once more, begging for help, and I am thrown down in response.
As dawn blankets the sky, the statues cry just as I designed them. I weep with them, covering my face with my hands. I do not know if they are even my own. Are my hands normally this pale? Should I have hooves? Should I have roots? My back aches for wings I dont think I've ever had, and my heart feels anything but my own as my heartbeat thumps off-rythym.
As the sun rises, light reflects off my skin.
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uh oh my hyperfixation gears are turning and i now wanna build up the universe of the watchers esp since i believe the whole moon thing in hermitcraft season 8 is connected to the watchers
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Nix. I know you like Hermitcraft, but it can’t come before sleep. If your tired, get some rest. Hermitcraft will still be there when you wake up. -🌖anon
If it came off that that's my bad. Trust me, I am not neglecting my sleep to watch the hermit of the craft
My sleep troubles extend far beyond the realm of watching content (I've had plenty today on accident, fell asleep 3am-ish, woke up 7.40am, fell asleep 10.50am, woke up 12.45pm, fell asleep 12.50pm, woke up 3.10pm. I'm still tired.)
I'm not a mooner in that I'm not purposely not sleeping and stuff, and I very much appreciate you wanting to make sure I'm okay and getting enough sleep :D
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