Many members of Hermitcraft are related to famous people!
Joe Hills is Herobrine's lesser known estranged older brother.
TFC is an original builder who made the mineshafts and adopted Steve when he was first made
Cleo is the great great great great great great great great great great great great granddaughter of Alex (they do not know this)
Gem and Fwhip are both half-illager grandchildren of the archillager from Dungeons (they do not know this)
Lizzie still keeps in touch with Jesse from Story Mode without knowing that they are Joel's cousin (Gem is also Joel's cousin but on the other side)
Not biologically related, but the Watcher that elevated Grian into becoming one as well is the creator of Jean (the original ender dragon) and the 2 both have tea on the weekends where they rent about how much they hate that Watcher
Doc was made by Notch (on accident, when trying to make a pig. He's the first creeper. You wouldn't realize it because he's messed with his own code so much)
Scott was made by a Watcher on accident (they were messing around with the code of stars, mistyped a line if code, and now, oops! The first ever starborne has been made.) That Watcher is the same one who made Jeb (on purpose) hence them both having connections to rainbows (all future starborne were made by Scott who got lonely and started manipulating the code of other stars to make himself friends)
Martyn is half Listener (he does not know this) and his mom made Lady Agnes (all of Mojang were made by Watchers and Listeners back when the two species got along and were making the universe together. After the species started hating each other, Mojang created the template for worlds and everything in them, along with the original builders and first players, Alex and Steve)
Pearl, while being Grian's adopted twin sister, is a shapeshifter who was actually created by the Watcher who made Dinnerbone (hence why they are both upside down)(she does not know this and Grian only learned after EVO)
BigB is the distant cousin of the White Pumpkin (whose actual name I'm blanking on rn) from MCSM
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Just a heads up, I used a translation tool for most of this, so please forgive any weird phrasing! I’m really sorry about that
The first two pages show Herosteve before and after he fell in love—though I never stick to a fixed outfit for the other characters, haha. The short comics after that are a little messy, but they’re mainly to explain my personal take on Red Eyes and Golden Eyes. I barely see any fanart of them, so if you know who they are, feel free to treat this as fanfic; if not, just think of them as my original characters with a twist. They don’t have official canon, but I needed them for my story, and I’m a huge Red Eyes stan—he’s my absolute favorite.
Thanks so much for liking my work and getting where I’m coming from! I might draw more cozy daily comics with these characters later… maybe😉
(He' s already a semi-yandere but it should progress with the story line. There will chapters set before this that give an insight to how he was before and what got him here:)
Taglist and Requests are open
Brief mention of clothes, imagine what you want instead but it’s gonna have pockets
Previous
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2.2k words
Cold.
Oh the blissful cold.
Such a relief from blistering heat outside. You stepped away from the window and sat down on a loveseat, curling into the corner. There were two couches opposite of you, a recliner and a long sofa.
A book poofed next to you and you grabbed it. Flipping through the pages before turning to the first page and settling in. Time seemed to slow down as you got further and further absorbed in the pages.
You looked up and froze, someone in dark blue jeans and a sky blue shirt with shaggy brown hair was sitting in the recliner, reading their own book. They looked up, locking eyes with you.
Even in dreamland the pickleman plagued you. You mentally sighed and stuck a finger in your book and closed it.
You moved off the couch and walked over, looming over him slightly. He put his book down on the floor and stood up. He held out his arms and you leaned in, wrapping your arms around his back.
You squeezed him tight and loosened your grip, trying to take a step back, but he didn’t let go.
He squeezed tighter, freeing one arm in favor of squatting slightly and hooking your legs. He hoisted you up in true bridal fashion and tossed you onto the couch.
You glared at him and tried to sit up.
Tried being the key word.
Herobrine flopped on top of you and covered your eyes. You sighed and closed them, deciding to follow along with whatever he was doing. You relaxed a bit before something wet touched your neck.
Your shoulders tensed immediately and your eyes shot open but the warm appendage retreated. You tried to pull your hand up to remove his but his heavy ass stopped it.
You turned your head to the side but that didn’t deter his tongue from returning, the wet muscle touched your neck, dragging upwards before his lips pressed a swift kiss to the area. You freed your left arm and quickly pushed at his face.
His cheek smooshed and he removed his hand from your eyes in favor of grasping your wrist, pushing it to the side and pinning it down. You wiggled your way up, shifting until you were almost upright. "What the hell?”
You weren't mad at him, well, not really. The surprise from it all made you want to get up from the couch and leave but you forced yourself to stay put, looking at him and waiting for an answer.
The expression on his face sent a jolt down your spine and you were all the more aware of the freezing room and how warm he was. With glazy eyes and flushed cheeks, he looked drunk.
His eyes drooped down with a loopy smile plastered on his face. "Aether above," He breathed, "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this." He stared into your soul and searched your eyes.
He must've found his answer because he suddenly surged up, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips.
You yanked your left arm free and planted it on his chest, pushing slightly. He listened to your wordless plea and moved back. A quiet noise made its way out of his throat and your eyes shot to his.
"Just...let me do this at my pace.”
He nodded once and shifted his position, leaning back on his heels and closing his eyes. You sat up and released a few cracks in your back, gaining a small smile that quickly disappeared from his face.
You scanned his relaxed face, examining his unguarded expression. You leaned forward, placing a hand on his cheek and he leaned into.
You pressed a soft kiss to his nose and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. Your other hand snaked its way into his hair, tangling into his dark locks and tugging slightly.
His head tilted back slightly and you moved forward, a newfound courage encouraging you to-
.
.
.
The soft cushions disappeared from under you and you swiveled your head. Darkness surrounded you. It was all you could see. Nothing was there.
You turned around several times, trying to find something.
You clutched your shins and looked down, taking in more breaths, trying to get air but nothing was coming in. Your breaths quickened as you tried to get anything in.
“Look at me.” A voice penetrated your panic and your eyes snapped upwards.
A cool, brown thing entered your vision and it spoke again, “Look at me.”
You tried to obey but you couldn't focus on the colorful shape.
“Oh for Ender's sake.” You heard another voice grumble exasperatedly.
Something cold touched your neck and your vision cleared instantly. The shape formed into a 5-digit hand and you snapped your head back, glaring at the perpetrator behind you.
Conner chuckled and removed his fingers. He snapped and the empty space twisted into a plains biome. You let go of your legs and laid down on the grass, sighing and staring at the sky.
Black hair poked into your sight, “They dead?”
“No.” You groaned.
“Darn.”
Silence deafened your ears until you finally sat up and asked, “What's happenin?”
“Not sure, I think I was dreaming and then I was here.” Max shrugged his shoulders. Conner nodded along and you hummed. “Y’all going to the meeting in the end?”
“I knew you knew what I was talking about!”
“I didn’t…and then I did
“How?
“My book.
“You have a book?
“Yep, I’ve written several, given some to others, actually gave one to you a while ago.”
“I burnt that”
“I know”
“Who else has one”
“You want this one?
“Huh?
“I give em to whoever when I finish writing. Herobrine has one, Henry has one, Alex has one, Geneva has one, Notch had one, Null might have one, Entity has a variation…errr, and then this is yours.” You waved your hand and a book with a black leather cover appeared in Conner's lap.
He picked it and studied it. He ran his fingers over the cover, marveling at the smiling sun imprinted in. He flipped over the cover and went to a random page.
It was blank.
He looked at you and blinked.
‘You’ve got to tap it.” You pointed. He tapped the page and an image of a black haired man appeared in the air. Conner’s eyes sparkled in wonder while Max furrowed his brow. “Is that Henry?”
“Surprised you remember him.”
“Of course, how could I forget the man you told me was single.” He grumbled.
You rolled your eyes as you tried to explain once more, “He was single when you met him, after you left, he went on a date and hit it off. I told you this.”
“Who’d he end up with?”
You pushed yourself off the ground and stood up, stretching your arms behind your head. “You remember Vincent? Tall, short brown hair, kinda honeyish.”
“The food?” Max eyed you. “The color nimrod.” You shot back. “Oh wait, circus boy.”
“Uh…yeah?” Your voice dropped and you turned away. The whimsical sun was close to the horizon and you walked towards it. Conner picked himself up and closed the book, discorporating the image.
He draped an arm over your shoulder and sauntered with you. Max caught up and asked, “Everyone going to the meeting?”
“Yeah, go-
“Shut up,” Conner cut off your sentence, annoyance dripping from his tone, “Yes, we’re both going. I assume you’ll be there too?”
“Standing beside Notch.”
“Uhhh.” You and Conner both let out before you followed up, “Notch is bringing Steve and Alex, you might wanna go with Null if you want to come.”
“Oh…is-”
“She’s on an adventure, you coward.”
“I’m not a coward.”
“Talk to her then.”
“I will, eventually.” Conner let out a chuckle.
The glare from the sun glowed brighter as you all walked closer. “Don’t die.” You sighed.
“We never do.” They chimed in perfect unison. You let go of each other and held a hand up, shielding your eyes from the light. Your feet started burning and the sensation crept up your legs. You looked down and saw your lower half dissolving into dust.
Conner and Max were disintegrating as well and you welcomed the feeling. “Go forth and die young grasshopper.” Conner brandished his hand dramatically and Max mentioned, “Aren’t you older?”
“Yes, and don’t I always.” The feeling consumed your entity as you answered them both. You closed your eyes and breathed out.
.
.
.
Your eyes snapped open and you leapt out of bed. The thermometer on the wall read low and rising so you rummaged through your chests til you found a pair of pants and a shirt. You stripped down and threw on your new clothes quickly before twisting the handle of your door and swinging it open.
The site of Herobrine standing there froze you in your place. His eyebrows were raised in skepticism, “Do you pay attention to anything around you.”
You gaped at him and stuttered, “W-what..what do you mean?”
He pointed at the ground behind you and you glanced down, there was a piece of paper on the floor and you picked it up. You read the contents and your face dropped.
You looked at him with exasperation in your soul and sassed, “Yeah I guess but you would think for the ‘king’ of the Nether, you would have better fashion tastes.”
He held out his arm and waved his other hand, “So what? You want my old wardrobe back?”
You tossed the paper over your shoulder and it flew to the wall, nailing itself upright, “At least then you had a sense of flair.” You slipped your hand through his arm and grasped his bicep.
He winked at you and his clothes shimmered, changing into a gold-based outfit. A shiny collar with a red gem hung around his neck connected to armlets held up by his bicep through chains.
The chains wrapped around his torso and connected to the red gem on the gold band around his hips. Two chains swayed from the sides and a red cloth-like loincloth hung in the front and back. To top it off, he wore a pair of small gold hoops from his ears.
You took a step back, your hand sliding away from his arm as he turned to face you, a smug smirk in place.
Your eyes raked appreciatively across his body and locked in on the gems. You stepped closer and tapped the one on his neck, “What’s this?”
His eyes watched you carefully, “Take a guess.” he pushed, his voice low.
The vocal change caused you to look up and lock eyes. The lack of distance hit you and your eyes flicked back to the shiny object.
A mischievous idea formed.
You slipped your fingers under the band and hooked your fingers. You tugged it toward you and he jerked with it. Surprise displayed on his face and his lips separated.
His eyes flicked to your lips and you leaned even closer. His eyes drooped down and…
You stuck a lollipop in his mouth.
His eyes shot open and stared at you as you let go of the band and cackled, your head thrown back and your hand on your hands over your mouth.
You wheezed for a bit before your laughter died down and you finally looked back at him. He had an annoyed look on his face, the lollipop still in his mouth.
The candy moved to the corner of his mouth as he opened it and started to speak before the doors at the beginning of the hall swung open.
Conner walked through, hand-in-hand with another person in a white onesie-like outfit with small flames dancing around them. They both stopped at the site of you two and you straightened up, opening your arms for a hug.
Conner took a step forward before Entity 303 shoved him to the side and leaped at you. His body slammed into your torso and you leaned back, hooking your arms under his legs.
“HELLO!” He screamed in your ear. The loudness didn’t phase you as you looked up, eyebrows raised with a tired look in your eyes. “Get off.”
He looked down at you and sighed, letting go of your neck and sliding down. You ruffled his hair and walked behind Herobrine. “We..were planning on doing a tour.” Conner informed.
“Right, cause I haven’t been here before.” You asked, peering around the tall pickle. Herobrine turned around and bent down, the lollipop missing from his mouth. Your eyes flicked to him in brief confusion before you glanced back at Conner.
Herobrine opened his mouth and your neck turned so fast, blinking, ‘What the fuck’
He kept his mouth open and you did the same. He shoved the missing lolly in your mouth and grabbed you. You grabbed his hands and tore them off, ducking under his arms and sliding to Conner, “Go go go go go go go go go go.” You spat.
The dark entity laughed and a flame danced out of place, growing bigger as Herobrine stared at the ground, his hand still in the air. Conner grabbed your hand and soon the fire consumed the three of you.
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Summary: Always hoping that your one-night stand is creative enough to earn a notch on your bedpost, the man you've chosen this time surprises you in more ways than one.
Warnings: A bit of foreplay; Implied sex
Word Count: 1,790
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Word of the Day: (June 3, 2026) - Notch
Author Notes: Thanks for the read-through @princessmisery666.
Graphics: Made by me.
Master List: Word Of The Day
Lips and tongues locked together in a delicate yet fiery dance of desire, you walk him backward into your bedroom while working his belt open. Jackets and shoes had been discarded in the foyer, his tie tossed over the stair railing, shirt abandoned on the first landing, your top and bra cast off in the hallway.
His surprised grunt when his back hits the solid wood breaks the kiss. Hands still snug on your hips, he spins and practically tosses you onto the bed. Eyes hungrily roam your body as he reaches to grip the bedposts and almost immediately drops his hands.
Raising an eyebrow, he leans over to inspect the detail he’d felt beneath those rough, warm, and wonderfully large hands. With a chuckle, he asks, “Are these what I think they are?”
“What,” slipping off the rest of your clothing as you shuffle up to the pillows, recaptures his attention, “do you think they are?”
The corner of his mouth curls as he removes his remaining garments.
Your eyes shift downward, hips rolling with the clench of your pussy. Pride triggers a wave of endorphins and heat pools in your core, certain in the knowledge that you chose well, and this one will earn the twist of your knife to mark his time here.
His smile is smug as he puts a knee on the mattress. “I think,” resting his weight on his forearms, he settles above you, “I’m going to be a notch on your bedpost.”
“Mmmm, well, that” he’s suckling the pulse in your neck, but not hard enough to leave a mark, “depends on how good you are.”
“Oh, yeah?” He kisses along your collarbone, fingers gently gliding down your side.
“Y-yeah.” You feel him smile against your skin when he hits a ticklish spot, and your body reacts. “Only the good ones earn a notch.”
“What if,” a tiny nip at the top of your breast, a quick flick of his tongue over a taut nipple, “I’m better than good?”
Your body instinctively arches, craving to have that perfect mouth latch onto you, teeth scraping your flesh. Instead, his fingers knead your thigh, holding you down as he places kisses across your stomach. “Then you get a place on the headboard. Or, if you’re really, really good, I'll let you carve it yourself …wherever you want.”
The answer distracts him from his descent. He pushes up enough to scan the unmarked panel behind you. Tilting his head, he searches the nightstands and the frame above. “Really?”
His shocked demeanor makes you chuckle, but there is also something akin to sadness in his expression. Like he’s displeased for you. Shaking your head, you sigh, “Sadly, no. I have very high standards.”
Lips pursed, he seems to mull that over for a moment. Lying on his stomach, he nudges a shoulder against your leg, urging you to rest it across his back as he wraps his arm around to hold it there. Face hovering over your mound, he lifts his gaze, and a lethal smirk slowly forms on plump, ruddy lips. “Challenge accepted,” he states, burying his gorgeous face in the wet heat between your legs.
You wake with a groan, muscles protesting as you stretch, but it’s a good ache. Memories of last night make you smile as you snuggle back into the pillow. Calloused fingers ghost over your shoulder and down your arm.
“Sleep well?”
“Mhmm,” Eyes still closed, not wanting to face reality quite yet, you ask, “You?”
“Best I have in a while.”
“Good,” you mumble, and pat his chest, feeling the laugh before you hear it.
You’re drifting off again when he clears his throat. “Uhm, so.”
“No.”
“No?”
Burrowing deeper into the covers, you whine, “Don't want to get up yet.”
“That’s not-“
“What?”
“Sorry. Never-”
Blinking your eyes open at the rustle of sheets and the shift in weight, you grip his arm before he can stand. “Wait. I’m sorry.” Shifting to a more upright position, you run a hand over your mouth to quickly check for drool and, thankfully, find none. “I’m not a cheery morning person.”
“No worries.” Turning to place a knee on the bed, he leaves the other foot planted on the floor, and you realize he’s already half-dressed. “I get it.” He smiles, his demeanor seems expectant.
You smile back, giving a weird little shrug, not sure what to say. Why is this so awkward?
Oh, right. They usually don’t stay.
Then it clicks. None of the others had noticed the marks. Or if they did, they didn’t bother to ask. He’s the first one you discussed it with. He woke you to see how he did. A laugh bubbles in your throat, but then he pats the bed.
“Well, I should probably go.”
“Wait.” The word is pushed out on a frantic exhale, louder than you intended. “Sorry. Just …hold on, I have something for you.”
He arches a brow, feigning surprise, but you can tell he knows what’s coming and expected this outcome. This time, you do laugh and tease, “Ass.”
A hand goes to his chest in mock offense, but the laugh he shares is genuine.
Reaching behind the wood frame next to your head, you pull the knife from its hidden sheath and hold it out to him.
“Wow.”
You’re not quite sure if he’s scared or impressed; maybe it’s both. “Safety first, right?” you unapologetically state.
“Uh, yeah. I’m a little frightened now, but that’s badass.”
He carefully grips the hilt, testing its weight before thoroughly inspecting it. “This is a good knife.”
“Thanks,” you say cheerfully, unsure why you’re elated by his approval. “Alright, I’m gonna,” sliding from the bed, you tilt your head toward the bathroom, “while you, uh, do your thing.”
“Headboard?” he calls out as you reach the doorway.
Peering over your shoulder, you match his cheeky grin. “Anywhere you’d like.”
You’ve never seen a more brilliant smile in your entire life.
Though expected, you’re disappointed to find him gone when you exit the bathroom. You’d taken a few minutes to make yourself more presentable just in case, or to give him a little extra time if he wanted to leave without further conversation.
His mark is easy to find, and your smile grows as you draw closer. He scarred the headboard, right above your pillow. Not with a simple notch, but two distinct letters—D.W.
Fingers tracing the freshly carved wood, you’re reminded that this is where you flattened your hand to protect your head and to give you leverage as he railed into you. Pressing your hand against the carving, you find that the letters fit perfectly within the space of your palm.
Impressed by his attention to detail, you check behind the headboard to find your knife safely back in its hiding place. Yep, you chose well. He’s going to be a hard act to follow. Too bad you couldn’t have more time with him.
Heading downstairs after getting dressed, you hear him before you see him. He turns, phone to his ear, as you hover in the doorway.
He holds up a finger and quickly finishes his conversation, “I gotta go. Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see ya then.” Stuffing the phone back in his pocket, he gives you a sheepish grin. “Sorry. That was my brother. I was gonna make you some coffee before I left,” he gestures to the pot and bag of coffee grounds on the counter, “but then he called.”
“You were going to make me coffee?” Sexy and sweet.
Grimacing, he rubs the side of his neck. “That’s, uh …yeah, that’s not weird at all. OK, right,” he gives a clipped nod and points toward the door, “I’m gonna go.”
As he’s about to pass by you, you ask, “Would you like a cup?”
“What?”
Walking toward the coffee maker, you repeat, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Uh. Yeah, that …that would be awesome.”
“Great. Have a seat.” He offers to make it for you, but when you decline, he sits, fingers fidgeting with a dish towel you'd left on the countertop. Checking the carton in the fridge, you find the cream is only two days past expiration, but give it a sniff test to be sure and find it passable. “Cream or sugar?”
“Black.”
Nodding, you pull two cups from the cupboard, and though it’s not done brewing, you fill one nearly to the brim, adding cream to the other as an escaped drop sizzles on the base plate.
"Thank you." Dragging his bottom lip between his teeth as you set the steaming mug in front of him, he states, “You don’t have to be polite. I’ll leave if you want me to go.”
“Huh?” He lifts his chin toward the machine behind you as another drip falls to bubble and burn away. “Oh. No.” You wave off his concern with a laugh as you replace the glass decanter. “I’m impatient. I always have at least one cup before it finishes.”
You’re also horrible at small talk, and wonder if he is too, or if he's sensing the same surreal tension as you. You can hear the soft rattle of the metal barstool as his leg bounces while you stand across from him, each silently drinking your coffee. Should you ask his name? Or would that make it even more awkward at this point? The faint clanking stops with the thud of his foot hitting the floor.
“So," you say simultaneously, then chuckle in unison.
With a lopsided grin, he raises a hand, indicating for you to go ahead.
"You have plans today?” It feels like a strange thing to ask, but it's the first thing that popped into your head that seemed appropriate to say aloud.
“Actually,” setting his cup down, he runs his hands over his thighs, “my brother and I just finished up a job, and he decided to go visit his girlfriend. So I have a couple of days free.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“It’s not?”
“Well, it’d be more fun if I had someone to spend it with.” Lips pursed, he waggles his eyebrows, nearly causing you to choke on the coffee you just slurped down. “What’dya think?”
“Are you actually asking, or testing the waters?”
Color tinges his cheeks, but then the confidence that drew you to him decides to shine. “I’m asking if you’d like to put a couple more notches on that bed, with me.”
Laughing, you set your cup aside and lean on the counter in front of him, giving him a nice view of your cleavage. “That’s not how that works, but I’d love to spend more time with you …”
“I would have made her a part of me. If I could, I would have had a notch cut in my already aging side and a slip of her, my young rose, inserted there and lashed to me with twine.”
— John Banville, from The Infinities (Alfred A. Knopf, 2010)
