Apologies in advance for this chapter being over 8k words. lol.
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Mumbo huffed out an aggravated sigh as he juggled different snack bowls in his hands. He really wasn't fit for this hosting stuff. He silently cursed out Scar in his head, it was his fault he was stuck doing this.

To be fair, it had been quite some time since Mumbo had hosted a hermit get-together. But still, he was going to get the vex man back for this.

He started brainstorming payback prank ideas as he arranged the snack bowls all on a side table. He made sure each bowl was meticulously placed in the perfect spot, with taller ones in the back, and shorter ones in the front. The tablecloth was smoothed out perfectly too, and everything felt orderly. Mumbo took a step back, scanning the table up and down for any mistakes. He smiled to himself when none were found.

Mumbo spent a moment or so mindlessly admiring the table, before his brain caught up to him. The snack table should not be his biggest concern right now, there were still a thousand other things to do before the sleepover started! Mumbo grumbled to himself, worrying the tip of his mustache with his fingertips for a minute before hurrying off from the table.

There were far too many things needed to get ready for any kind of party, get-together, or gathering, things Mumbo did not enjoy. You had to clean and tidy and decorate and cook and tidy some more. And, quite frankly, it could get really annoying.

Mumbo hurried around his house, practically running because of how little time he had left before everything started. He wiped down this surface, and dusted off that one, and decluttered another.

Eventually, he was decently satisfied with most of his house, but he kept doubling back to the living room. It was the room that was most important for him to get right, considering it was where they'd all be sleeping and spending most of their time that night.

Now, one thing about the hermits and sleeping, was that they all tended to have different sleep preferences and habits, with there being so many different kinds of hybrid species and whatnot. So, Mumbo had made sure to deck out his living room with all the good stuff: a plentiful amount of nesting materials, tons of blankets in varying thicknesses, and all of his pillows and plushies, big and small. All of the stuff was spread across his living room floor in between the furniture, and almost obscuring the carpet below from view. Mumbo smiled, his hands on his hips. To put it simply, the room looked like heaven.

Maybe Mumbo's definition of heaven was similar to a little kid's ideal vision of a pillow fort, but that was fine. The other hermits were going to love this, perfect or not.

He glanced up at the clock quickly; it was about time for the hermits to start showing up now too.

Coincidentally, the doorbell rang right then, its singing tune interrupting Mumbo's thoughts, (and only giving him a tiny jumpscare). Mumbo took a deep breath, smiled, and opened the door. And the party began.

The first hermit to show up was Xisuma, ever punctual. Right behind him were Zedaph, Impulse, and Tango, who'd now officially dubbed themselves as 'team ZIT'. The trio's eyes simultaneously lit up at the sight of the sea of pillows Mumbo had created. With a whoop of glee, Tango took a running jump into the pile, the other two following him.

The three hermit gals arrived next, with a tub of cookies and matching sets of pajamas under their arms. After them it was Etho and Doc and Ren, then Joe and Bdubs, and more and more hermits.

All of the hermits were there in no time, though, sticking to tradition, Scar showed up fashionably late, but his bright smile was far too happy and upbeat for anyone to blame him.

A short speech was in order, Mumbo thought. He stepped up to the front of his living room, but could barely get past "Welcome!" before Bdubs started an argument, and the crowd of hermits burst into laughter and loudness. Welp, scratch the speech idea.

Mumbo laughed to himself and took a step back, watching as the chaos unfolded. Maybe this hosting thing hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

. . .

It was barely an hour before the party was in full swing, yet, being a sleepover, it was much calmer than the Hermit's typical get-togethers. Mumbo smiled to himself from his spot in his living room, nestled into the arm of his couch. Everyone was enjoying themselves, well, apart from the heated argument about which movie should be watched first. Luckily, that had been settled quickly, though, much to Keralis' dismay, they were not watching a Christmas movie.

"I mean, I like Star Wars too, but come on, Rudolph, guys," Keralis had remarked, folding his arms across his chest with a childlike pout.

"Kerals," Cleo sighed, "It's literally July, no."

Keralis huffed in mock anger, "So? That doesn't matter!"

"If you turn off Return of The Jedi for 'Happy elves and Santa's sleigh bells'," Scar mocked, voice going up a pitch to poke fun at Keralis, "I will personally throw you into a ditch."

"Come on, no violence, it's my day off!" Stress complained under her breath before Keralis could react. Most of the hermits burst into laughter at that, even if they were having their own side conversations.

"I think I'm gonna have to agree with Stress on this one," chuckled Xisuma, who had been given the responsibility of holding the TV remote, and who had definitely not been bribed by Scar to turn on Star Wars.

Scar and Keralis held each other's gazes in a weird sort of standoff for a minute, before sighing and turning away from each other. "Can we turn on Rudolph when Scar falls asleep?" Keralis asked quietly, still hung up on the idea of watching a Christmas movie.

"Hmm, yeah," Xisuma compromised, laughing under his breath.

. . .

Later in the night, Mumbo had gotten up from his spot to quickly use the bathroom. Well, at least that was his cover for checking to make sure he hadn't accidentally left anything uncleaned. To his satisfaction, everything was up to par. And, when he returned to the living room, the movie that was playing was none other than Rudolph.

Mumbo held back a chuckle and settled into the same spot on the couch as before, watching as the stop motion clay characters danced across the screen to Christmas music. They'd had to wait a while before playing the movie since Scar was such a light sleeper, meaning it was already past midnight. Mumbo wasn't too tired though, used to a limited and semi-nocturnal sleep schedule.

Not too keen on fully watching the movie, Mumbo decided to resort to people watching instead, as his current spot was a great vantage point.

Keralis, who'd been so adamant on watching his Christmas movie, was barely awake. He was nodding off in a pile of pillows on the right side of the room, with xB tucked next to him, already fast asleep. Though there was a determined look in Keralis' eyes, his tired gaze locked firmly onto the TV.

On the other side of the floor, a bunch of hermits were piled together in a mess of limbs, some wide awake and quietly chatting, and others dead asleep. In the pile, Cleo was braiding Joe's hair as they slept, and False was braiding Cleo's with varying success, since Stress, Wels, and Ren were all more or less on top of her. Mumbo giggled inwardly at some of the funny positions the hermits were in.

Zedaph, Tango, and Impulse were all sleeping on the couch with Mumbo. Tango was stretched out, taking up nearly all of the couch, and practically pinning Zed underneath him, while Impulse was curled up at his feet like a cat, head facing Mumbo. Zed had his head tossed back and his mouth wide open, and Mumbo wouldn't be surprised if he was drooling. Scar and Jellie had commandeered the couch as well, tucked into the arm opposite from Mumbo.

Besides his couch, Mumbo had an armchair in his living room as well, which, at the beginning of the night, Xisuma had tried to claim for himself. Now, hermits were on it like ants to sugar, practically drowning poor Xisuma.

Mumbo exchanged a glance with X, and the mayor blinked tiredly from behind his visor. Mumbo smiled back at him, and tried to think of a joking remark to X's situation, but was interrupted by a sound from his left. It was a low, rumbling, sort of snore-like sound, and Mumbo turned his head to see what it was.

It was a purr, he realized, like a cat would make, but it was far too loud to be coming from little Jellie, who was pawing around on Scar's lap. In fact, if Mumbo wasn't mistaken, Impulse was the one that was purring.

Mumbo narrowed his eyes, tipping his head from side to side as he studied the sleeping hermit. He was pretty sure he wasn't sleep deprived and hallucinating again, but he was also pretty sure that he'd never heard Impulse purr before. To be fair, this was Impulse's first official sleepover with the hermits, so Mumbo didn't already know anything about his sleeping habits. But... purring was weird, right?

"I didn't know humans could purr," he blurted, deciding to just take the information and roll with it. With the hermits being a variety of different species, Mumbo was constantly learning new things about them, so this was honestly pretty far from strange.

From somewhere within the armchair hermit pile, Doc made a confused noise. "They can't? Humans don't purr." he said, voice a bit unsure and slightly slurred from tiredness

"Yeah, they don't," False concurred from her spot on the floor, "I should know, I am one," she laughed a little when she finished.

"But... Impulse is purring," Mumbo spoke slowly, staring down at Impulse. He listened to the soft rumblings, and watched his chest rise and fall steadily. Impulse was human. And Impulse was also definitely purring. That was contradicting.

False gave Mumbo a confused look, mouth slightly agape, and some of the other awake hermits turned their attention to him as well. "Listen," Mumbo said quietly, gaze still locked on Impulse. Any background chatter slipped away, and someone paused the TV, letting a hush fill the room. The silence was broken only by Impulse's gentle, vibrating purr, which seemed remarkably loud in the quiet room.

"What?" False whispered under her breath, undecipherable emotions briefly flashing through her eyes. "Is he not human?"

Mumbo shrugged, looking between False and Impulse. That was a pretty reasonable explanation, he decided, and if he was being honest, he wasn't awake enough to argue. "I guess not," he remarked. If Impulse was purring, and humans couldn't purr, then that simply meant Impulse wasn't human. It made sense.

However, that didn't seem to make sense to False. "But, he told us he was human," she sounded concerned, her voice a pitch higher than usual. "And he acts like a human, or, I thought he did..."

"Man's a little diff'rent," Bdubs interjected from where he was buried underneath several fluffy blankets by the armchair. He stuck out one hand and waved it around lazily for emphasis. "Leave 'im be. It's prob'ly just 'cause he's– OW– Xisuma don't elbow me!"

"You lot need to stop arguing, I'm tryna sleep," Xisuma grumbled, neglecting to apologize. Bdubs sighed in response, grabbing the edge of one of his blankets and tugging it over his head, forgetting whatever he had been going to say.

"Sorry," False mumbled, flashing one last sharp glance back to Impulse before going back to braiding Cleo's hair, leaning into the zombie's shoulder. Cleo muttered something to her that Mumbo didn't catch, but he saw False's lips form a silent, reassuring 'I'm fine' in response.

Impulse was still purring, though it was a little quieter now. Someone had pressed play on the movie, and it's volume was lower too. Mumbo took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose, and letting it out slowly. His eyes were heavy, weighing down his head, and he knew he should probably try and get some sleep.

He was a bit worried though. Mumbo could feel a subtle anxiety running through his veins, from his head to his fingertips. The air around him seemed tense. False seemed tense. And Xisuma didn't look like he was really sleeping. Mumbo couldn't help but wonder if there was some secret he hadn't been let in on, other than the obvious one that Impulse was keeping. He wanted to figure out what was going on, if anything.

But Mumbo realized he was far too tired to work anything out right now. So, instead, doing the best to urge the worries to the back of his mind, he grabbed a blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and tucked himself under it. He gave a corner of it to Impulse too, since the cat-like man didn't have a blanket himself.

Mumbo settled back, letting his eyes slip shut. A moment later, Impulse shifted around in his sleep, the back of his head bumping up against Mumbo's thigh. His soft purr seemed to vibrate all the way through Mumbo's body, exactly the way a real cat's would. It was rhythmic and gentle, and Mumbo found himself drifting off in its warmth.

Out of all the weird and wacky things Mumbo had seen while living with the hermits, this was definitely somewhere on the 'exceptionally strange' list. But really, he could care less, it wasn't that big of a deal. Plus, didn't a feline purring mean that they were happy or comfortable? Assuming that it was the same for whatever the heck Impulse was, Mumbo realized that the purr must mean the new hermit felt welcome and safe enough around them.

He might even say he was chuffed to bits in regards to that.

It was pretty neat, after all.

Mumbo fell asleep. Impulse purred on. And, invisible to everyone in the room, underneath a carefully curated human aura, a demon's tail whisked slowly and pleasurably.

. . .

To his surprise, Mumbo wasn't the first one awake in the morning.

When he woke, his curtains had been opened slightly to let just barely a sliver of sunlight into the living room, though all of the hermits in there appeared to be fast asleep. Mumbo relaxed for a little bit before pulling himself up. He stretched and dropped his blanket on top of Impulse, who was no longer purring, but still sleeping.

Mumbo carefully stepped around the hermits sleeping on the floor, headed for his bathroom. However, he stopped when he passed the entrance to his kitchen, spotting someone inside. They were hunched slightly over the sink, running the tap.

Taking a step into the kitchen, Mumbo quickly recognized the figure as xB, who appeared to be washing his face.

"Morning," Mumbo greeted with a wave, and xB turned to face him, switching off the tap. He was rubbing at his ear fins with still wet hands.

"Hi," he smiled, "Sorry, just re-hydrating. This faucet's easier to use than your bathroom one." As a fish type hybrid, xB tended to get more uncomfortable the longer he stayed out of water, hence why he was doing what he was doing.

"Gotcha," Mumbo replied in understanding. "I was just headed to the bathroom, actually. I can grab you a washcloth if that would be helpful?" he offered.

xB nodded, "That would be great, thank you."

Mumbo returned the nod, and turned away, heading out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. He did all the things he needed to do in the bathroom, making sure to remember to brush his fangs and comb his hair. On his way back he grabbed a soft blue washcloth.

When Mumbo returned to the kitchen, Ren was there too, in casual conversation with xB. Mumbo greeted them both with a simple 'hello' and handed xB the washcloth before starting on making a cup of tea. He leaned against the counter, listening to the water for his tea as it boiled. He tuned out Ren and xB's conversation, thinking back on the events of last night.

Impulse had purred. Like a cat. For a moment, Mumbo wondered if it might have been a dream, but it had felt very real. He mulled it over, pouring his hot water into a mug with a tea bag when the kettle had heated up enough. If all of the observations last night were definite, then one thing could be concluded: Impulse, their newest hermit, was not, in fact, a human.

Now that he wasn't half asleep, Mumbo realized he should probably be concerned about the fact that Impulse had lied to them. That's probably why False had been so worked up last night, actually. She was sensible, if a bit paranoid of others, so finding out about Impulse's dishonesty likely hadn't been reassuring. Mumbo was bothered by it as well, of course, but he understood why Impulse did it.

If Mumbo had been able to hide his vampiric traits and pass as a human among the hermits, he probably would've, after all. He would hide too.

Which in turn begged the question: What was Impulse hiding? Or rather, what sort of species was he that allowed him to pass as human?

Mumbo wasn't really an expert in these sorts of things. He glanced over to Ren and xB, wondering if he could ask them about it. Neither of them had been awake when Impulse had started purring last night, also, and something in Mumbo was itching to tell them about it.

In hindsight, Mumbo regretted his next words. He should've known that rumours spread like wildfire with the hermits, and especially so with Ren, who tended to twist stories around (accidental or on purpose) for his own theatrical effect. But Mumbo didn't think, and spoke anyway.

"Last night, after you guys fell asleep, did you know that Impulse was purring?" Mumbo said impulsively, striding over to his center counter where xB and Ren were, tea mug in hand. Ren looked baffled, and xB tipped his head to the side curiously.

"I'm sorry, he was what?" Ren spoke up confusedly, flicking his ears.

"Purring, like a cat." Mumbo repeated, nodding and clarifying that, no, Ren had not misheard him.

xB squinted his eyes in a vague expression. "I didn't think humans could do that," he mused.

"They can't," Mumbo replied bluntly. He hopped up to sit on the edge of his counter, still facing the other two. (it was his house, he could do what he wanted to.) "Which means..." he dragged out his words, "Impulse isn't human. But, I don't know what he is."

"Hmm," Ren hummed under his breath while grabbing a glass and filling it with tap water. "Well he isn't a cat hybrid," he noted with a humorous undertone, taking a sip of his water.

"Cats aren't the only ones that purr though, there's other ones I think," Mumbo said, swinging his legs a bit. "Like raccoons–"

"–Wait, wait, hold on," xB cut in, "Can we double back to the part where you said Impulse isn't human?" he sounded confused, and slightly concerned.

"Yeah, he's not," Mumbo spoke a little more slowly than before. "But I mean, it's not like we can be ones to judge," he gestured out to all three of them, all of which were clearly inhuman.

"Okay, fair, I guess," xB conceded, "But is it not concerning at all to you? That he didn't tell us the truth?"

Mumbo sighed, sudden confliction passing through him. He was concerned, though he didn't really think he needed to be. "I am a bit worried," he admitted, "But I think I can understand why he wouldn't. It isn't easy to be inhuman, you know."

xB and Ren did know. They shared a glance before looking back to Mumbo, nodding in understanding. Being different was hard, especially in a world where most people were raised to frown upon it. Being inhuman was difficult, having different appearances and behaviors that others found strange was taxing, and often not being accepted took its toll.

They knew why Impulse lied. Any of them, in any place other than here, would've done the same thing.

"You know dudes, if he opens up about it, I'm excited for Impulse to be joining the inhuman hermits side," Ren smiled, gesturing animatedly with his hands.

"We still don't know what Impulse is though," Mumbo huffed and took a long sip of his tea before dropping his chin into his hand. "The only clues we've got are that he can purr, and that he looks human."

"Well, for the looks part, it could probably be either that he just has very few visible traits, or that he's using some sort of cloaking spell," xB said after a moment of contemplation.

"And as for hybrids that can purr," Ren continued, "There aren't too many of them. I think it's just felines and some of their relatives, dragons and stuff, oh, and netherborns too."

"Right, right, because Tango can purr!" Mumbo responded excitedly. He'd forgotten that that was a trait netherborns had too. Though he wasn't sure if Impulse would fall under any of the species subsets. Ghastbornes have bright, glowing red eyes, and usually white hair- No. Blazebornes (like Tango) are partly on fire most of the time to keep warm- No. And piglin species have sharp ivory tusks and big floppy ears- Also no. He didn't have any of the features. "...Impulse doesn't really look the part though, unless he's using a spell," Mumbo wrapped up his thoughts for the others.

Ren muttered a slow "yeah" under his breath, and the three of them went silent for a moment, each reasoning through different possibilities. Mumbo was just about to start thinking that figuring this out was impossible– there were too many species and not enough clues –but xB spoke up before he quit.

"Okay, this might be, uhm, a bit out there, but... demons would classify as netherborn, right?" The fish hybrid said with curiosity, and a bit of uncertainty. Mumbo and Ren both gave him puzzled looks, Mumbo's mouth opened a sliver in confusion, and he elaborated. "He's a... demon. I mean, they fit with the clues, if you think about it. They've got magic powerful enough for a cloaking spell, they're probably netherborn, so they purr, and... and it would make sense to hide it, ya know?"

Mumbo nearly choked on his sip of tea as the thought settled in his mind. Impulse couldn't be a demon! Demons were rare and elusive, rarely going topside and rarely mingling with other species. He couldn't deny that the evidence definitely showed it was possible, but how could that be?

"Wait, wait- man's got a point," Ren interrupted Mumbo's thoughts. He jerked a thumb at xB, eyes widening and flipping between him and Mumbo. "I've heard demons are really cat-like, so that could totally be it."

Mumbo voiced his skepticism, "I dunno. I mean, it's definitely possible, but we can't know for sure." He didn't want to jump to any unnecessary conclusions about Impulse.

The other two nodded in understanding, and they shared a look of agreement to end the discussion at that. Mumbo took a long sip from his tea that warmed his throat as he swallowed. If he was being honest, he wasn't quite sure where he stood on this whole thing. On one hand, it was super exciting to think about how there was another inhuman hermit like himself, but on the other hand, he didn't know what was keeping Impulse from sharing his species with the rest of them. Was it fear? Insecurity? Or something worse?

Ren didn't seem to be worried in the slightest though. His tail was wagging vigorously, occasionally whacking against the cabinets, and he was muttering under his breath about how cool it was that there was potentially a real demon living among the hermits. xB, inversely, seemed apathetic about the matter now, and had gone back to washing his face with a relaxed expression.

Mumbo could hear some of the other hermits waking up in the room over, their soft chattering flowing into the kitchen. He decided he'd rather stay optimistic opposed to worried about Impulse. Because, hey, the new hermit was a demon- or some other kind of daemonic/inhuman entity, and Mumbo could roll with that.

He could roll with it.

. . .

Of course, it was only a matter of time before enough of the hermits had woken for chaos to begin. Some of them bid their goodbyes and headed out of the sleepover, while others stayed for breakfast, and more were still snoozing. All of the hermits in the living room were chattering loudly, but not loudly enough to wake any of the deep sleepers, namely Bdubs and Tango.

Mumbo had picked a spot outside the doorway to the kitchen to observe the others quietly, and to provide certified Host Mumbo Assistance™ to anyone who required it. He had finished his first cup of tea and made himself a second, and was sipping it slowly.

It happened. He knew it was only a matter of time before it happened. The main topic of discussion amongst the hermits now, framed in hushed whispers and sharp glances, was Impulse's inhumanness.

Ren was excitedly spreading the rumour, and honestly, Mambo wasn't helping. He couldn't help himself from telling the other hermits, asking them if they'd heard Impulse purring, and what they thought about it.

The reaction amongst the other hermits was varying. Xisuma, who'd woken shortly after the first three, had reacted nonchalantly, though he advised Mumbo not to dig too deeply into it. He said it might upset Impulse. Zedaph had agreed with the demon theory, blabbering excitedly about magic through incoherent, sleep heavy words. Cub, on the other hand, proposed his own theory that Impulse might be a vex like himself and Scar, explaining that it was possible since vex had shapeshifting magic that could allow feline-like anatomy and a human appearance. Mumbo thought that idea was really interesting, and just as probable as the demon theory. He watched as it spread among the hermits too.

Eventually, the crowd of awake hermits seemed to agree on a general consensus that Impulse was at least inhuman, but his specific species was still a debate.

Scar approached Mumbo from the kitchen, a bowl of cereal in his hand as he observed the living room discussions. He pulled over a stray chair and sat down. There was a strange expression on his face, as if he couldn't decide whether to smile or frown.

"–what do I tell them?" Mumbo caught the end of something Scar mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" The vampire asked curiously in response.

Scar shot his head up, grip tightening on his cereal spoon for a split second. "Nothing, nothing, sorry, just talking to myself," he mumbled, and, after a pause, "Uh, good morning Mumbo."

"Good morning," Mumbo returned, respecting Scar's privacy by not pestering. Though he couldn't help himself from asking the question. "So, what do you think about Impulse? Vex? Demon? Something else?"

Scar was silent for a moment, face twisting around in uncertainty. "I don't know," he finally answered, voice exasperated and unnaturally negative.

"I think he's a demon," Mumbo voiced, lifting his tone to be a little more cheery than usual to contrast Scar. The vex's eyes widened at that, and he pursed his lips together to stop himself from saying something. He huffed out a sigh, shaking his head slightly. "We should all stop talking about this," He argued, words choppy, "I mean, Impulse is asleep right there, you don't think this is a bit rude?"

"O-oh," Mumbo was caught off guard. Impulse was still asleep, curled up on the couch next to a snoring Tango. Though he was starting to stir slightly. "Yeah, you're right I- I'm sorry."

Scar put his cereal bowl in his lap and held his head in one hand. "Rumors aren't nice, Mumbo. And he's been trying to keep it a secret." He said the last part a little more quietly. Mumbo chewed at the inside of his cheek, eyebrows furrowing together.

"What do you mean, 'a secret'?"

"I mean–" Scar cut himself off, "I can't tell you, Mumbo," he sighed, "This isn't fair to Impulse." He stuffed several bites of cereal into his mouth, not meeting Mumbo's eyes.

As if on cue, Impulse started to wake on the other side of the room. He shuffled around, yawning and blinking a few times. He let out a strange happy hum, leaning against Tango's side, likely pleased by his presence and warmth.

Scar peered up at Impulse, expression tense. He stood up, clearing his throat and glancing up at Mumbo. "I'm gonna go... I finished my food." Scar brushed past Mumbo and headed into the kitchen with his now empty bowl gripped tightly in his hands. He was muttering under his breath again.

"Are you alright Scar?" Mumbo heard the distinct voice of Xisuma asking in the other room. Scar whispered back something that Mumbo didn't catch, which Xisuma responded to with a simple "Oh." Their footsteps retreated into the back of the kitchen, where they were likely whispering about more things.

Mumbo leaned against the wall behind him and swallowed down some more tea, processing whatever that interaction with Scar had just been.

Scar was hiding something. It was blatantly obvious that he knew what Impulse was. But Mumbo didn't know why or how Scar had been let in on this secret, and he didn't know what it meant for the current theories either. Could it be that Scar knew because Impulse was a vex too? But Mumbo had seen the face Scar had pulled when he'd told him he thought Impulse was a demon.

Sighing, Mumbo glanced over to Impulse. He could figure it out by simply asking the man in question himself, now that he was awake. But Scar's words played back in his head. It isn't fair. It wouldn't be fair to bombard Impulse with questions about his species, especially since– due to the fact that he was keeping it a secret –it must have been a sensitive topic for him. Impulse could tell them on his own.

But unfortunately, Mumbo had already decided it was a good idea to spread rumours.

He watched as, barely two seconds after Impulse had pulled himself into a sitting position and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Ren approached him with a bounce in his step and his tail wagging furiously. There was a spark in Ren's eyes that was almost scary. The wolf-hybrid's lips started quickly forming words, Mumbo heard 'purring' and 'inhuman' and 'what are you?'

Mumbo saw the exact second that Impulse realized what was going on. His eyes widened, his sleepy smile dropped away, the movement of his chest stopped abruptly, before starting again, this time heaving and quicker. Impulse stuttered something entirely incomprehensible and pained.

This had been a mistake. Mumbo had made such a mistake. He mouthed the word 'shit', staring down at his tea like it was the most interesting thing ever. Why had he thought it would be a good idea to share the things he had? All they'd done was hurt someone.

When he looked back up, Ren was starting to back off from a shaking Impulse with an apologetic smile. The other hermits were casting careful glances as if Impulse were a wild animal. Ren walked off, tail low and concern in his eyes, leaving Impulse with nothing to do but hug his knees to his chest and listen to the whispers filling the air.

Some hermits' conversations had nothing to do with Impulse, but the ones that did were painfully obvious. They were staring at him. Mumbo was too.

Zedaph and Cub walked up to Impulse next, both more cautious than Ren had been. Their eyes still gave away their excitement, even though they spoke slowly and reassuringly. Impulse didn't answer their questions, falling into some sort of silent shock.

In contrast, the hermit's chatter seemed to grow louder. Zed in particular talked and talked and talked, some of it with his hands, flying around in small arcs.

Impulse looked cornered, scared, confused. He found the effort to spring up from the couch onto his feet, making Cub and Zed jump back, startled. "Sorry," He mumbled, the first coherent word he'd said since he'd woken, and he shouldered his way past his interrogators. Impulse walked forward briskly, though he had his head low and his shoulders hunched.

For the briefest moment, Impulse stopped in front of Mumbo, looking up and meeting his eyes. Mumbo stared. Blinked. An apology sat in his throat but he didn't know how to choke it up.

"–gonna use your bathroom," Mumbo tuned back into the world in time to hear Impulse mumble, voice shaky. Mumbo nodded to him, forcing a smile. Guilt firmly settled itself into the pit of his stomach as Impulse hurried off down the hallway, bathroom door opening a shutting with two soft clicks.

Mumbo took another long sip of his tea, closing his eyes to the room around him. He heard Ren telling someone to "give him some space," obviously referring to Impulse. Mumbo hadn't thought he'd been in the wrong. He had been such a spoon, chattering about, spreading rumours about Impulse. Well, they weren't incorrect, per se, but still. He shouldn't have done it.

No. No. He needn't be doing this again. There wasn't any reason for him to continuously blame himself. Scar had helped him work through this ages ago.

Mumbo hadn't been a bad person. He'd only made a mistake, like people do. He told himself. And dwelling on that mistake wasn't going to help in the cleanup. What he did need to do was apologize to Impulse.

'Hey friend! Sorry I told the whole village you weren't human, which is a very personal secret you've been keeping!'

Mumbo almost laughed to himself at how silly and blunt the phrasing of that sounded. No, he'd approach it more gently, carefully and considerately. He had to let Impulse know that he truly was sorry for what he'd done, and that none of the other hermits were judging him for being inhuman.

He could do this, it would be fine. And later, Impulse would tell them all what species he was, and all the hermits would be like 'wow!' 'so cool!' and 'fantastic!' And everything would be just dandy.

Momentarily, one Wels Knight interrupted Mumbo's daydreaming of a happy ending. His stance was tense and his bag was slung over his shoulder.

"I'm leaving," he said bluntly, "Last night was wonderful Mumbo, thank you." He was trying to be kind, but there was an edge to his words, and he kept glaring over his shoulder at False.

"Well thank you for coming," Mumbo responded back, as if his attitude was completely ordinary. "I'll see you around!"

Wels gave him a curt nod and headed off, tugging open the front door with a little more force than necessary. Out of the corner of his eye, Mumbo could've sworn he saw Wels flip off False right before shutting the door behind him. Sibling things. Oi.

Mumbo sighed, before tipping back his mug and sipping up the last drops of his tea. He tapped his fingers in a pattern against the empty mug, making quiet clinking noises. He made his way to the kitchen to wash the cup out.

What was Impulse thinking right now? Mumbo wondered, running water over the clay mug. Was he mad about the truth getting out? Upset? Worried? Mumbo didn't know Impulse well enough to be sure, but he could hope that things would be okay.

Mumbo stayed in the kitchen for a bit, doing a few menial tasks while hermits moved around in a blur around him. Eventually, he moved back to the living room. He didn't check a clock to see how much time had passed, but it felt like it had been a while. He tuned into hermits' conversations at random, hearing snippets of discussions here and there.

"He's been in there a while," Cleo noticeably remarked, more to themself than to anyone else. They were referring to Impulse, nodding in the direction of the bathroom. "I'll go check on him," Mumbo decided after a pause. It felt more like it had been decided for him, Cleo's words a little push.

For a moment, the hallway seemed looming, but Mumbo's feet moved on their own, and he stood before the bathroom door before he knew it. He stared at it for a moment, at the chips in its paint that revealed the beige toned oak underneath. He swallowed. Here goes nothing.

Mumbo took a deep breath through his nose, held up a hand with one knuckled extended, and knocked.

"Are you doin' okay in there?"

For a moment, Impulse was quiet, except for a small intake of breath. "I'm fine," he lied, voice shaking, "I'm- I'm almost done, sorry, I'll be out in a second."

"Take as much time as you need," Mumbo reassured, moving to stand closer to the door and listen in. He heard nothing but muffled shuffling. He swallowed back thickly. "Impulse... I'm sorry."

The shuffling stopped.

"It's my fault the rumour about you spread," Mumbo continued, "I didn't mean for everyone to find out you were inhuman. I just- I got excited, and well one thing led to another, and I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. I'm sorry."

Mumbo placed the palm of his hand onto the door, hearing a small sniffle and a shuddering breath from inside. The seconds stretched out as Mumbo stood there, listening to silence and thinking about other ways to apologize, and approximating how mad Impulse probably was right now. But then Impulse spoke up, and there wasn't a speck of anger in his tone.

"I'm not ready," he whispered, his voice teetering and unsteady, like a house of cards in the same room as a fan. His words were desperate, anguished, and scared.

The world around them seemed to freeze, for a moment. A stiff pain filled Mumbo's chest, and he realized that for a moment, he'd forgotten to breathe. A deep sadness seemed to root itself into his heart, one that he would've normally characterized as his own self-pity in this situation, but it was entirely for Impulse.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's gonna be okay, we're gonna get this whole mess sorted out," the words slipped out gently and swam in the air. "And I promise you, none of us are upset that you're... you know. We were just curious, and we- I- went too far. You don't have to tell us anything you're not ready to."

Mumbo paused, finding his words for a moment. "But if- when you are ready, it'll be okay, yeah? Every species is welcome here, and I mean every. I don't care if you're a silly racoon or a vex or even a hellish daemonic entity. It doesn't matter."

When Impulse didn't respond, Mumbo repeated his "I'm sorry," mantra again. He shifted, leaning his shoulder against the door.

"It's not your fault." The suddenness of Impulse's quiet, squeaky voice startled Mumbo. "This was- this was bound to happen at some point." He whispered, sounding more like he was reasoning with himself than with Mumbo.

And in that moment, Impulse and his air of insecurity reminded Mumbo of an old friend. Of someone else, similarly fated in his species and origins. Someone who'd kept his secrets, terrified of rejection for who he was.

With a pang of sorrow, Mumbo remembered what he'd done for that feathered friend too long ago. Maybe he could help more this time around.

"Is it okay if I come in?" Mumbo placed his hand on the doorknob. "I know that you probably want to be alone but-" he started to add on before Impulse interrupted with a soft "yeah."

Mumbo thought he'd misheard for a moment. "Are you sure?"

A pause. Another "Yes."

The handle squeaked when it turned in, and Mumbo slipped inside quietly, letting the door fall shut behind him so that the space felt isolated, felt safe. Impulse stood at the counter, eyes, red and puffed, staring into the mirror but unfocused and unseeing. He turned, a slow, calculated pivot. Behind him, his moth pet walked in aimless circles on the counter, not paying attention to either of them.

"I understand what you're going through," Mumbo started, taking in Impulse's hunched shoulders, his tense features, and the subtle tremor in his fidgeting hands. He looked around, but couldn't meet Mumbo's eyes with his own.

"Really?" He finally asked, sarcasm in his tone. "You know what it's like to be a monster?"

Suddenly, Mumbo wasn't quite sure what to feel. A wave of sympathy shuddered through his body, but at the same time so did understanding. He was a vampire after all, most humans probably considered him a monster too. But the way Impulse said it, it was like he believed it doubtlessly. Like it was a fact, something everyone knew, on the same level as 'the sky is blue' or 'the sun brings day.'

"...Of course I know what it's like. Have you seen these teeth? That mirror?" Mumbo pulled up his lip with his pinky, showing his dangerous fangs. He motioned towards the mirror, where the space next to Impulse sat empty. "I am one too... except, I'm not. No one is. I won't use that word to describe myself, and you shouldn't either."

Mumbo held out his hand, and Impulse hesitantly took it. "Your species doesn't make you who you are, it never did and it never will."

Impulse's expression shifted, sudden hope and curiosity gleaming in his eyes. But alongside that curiosity was concern. "Well if it doesn't, then who am I?" he asked, voice meek. And Mumbo's heart ached for the man in front of him, who wanted to be accepted so badly, but didn't realize that he already was.

"You're a hermit, Impulse." Mumbo said with all of the breath in his lungs and without an ounce of doubt in his mind. "And you're safe here."

Their eyes met, gentle earthy brown to deep crimson. Something unspoken passed between them, communicated in a morse code of tears and blinks, and the two leant into a hug. Mumbo's chin rested in Impulse's hair, and Impulse held back a sob.

"It's okay, you're okay."

Eventually, they pulled away, and Mumbo held Impulse at arms length, giving him a soft smile. Impulse returned it, eyes wide and shining. He pulled a hand away from Mumbo to wipe at the corners of his eyes. "You're makin' me cry, Mumbo," he teased.

"Whoops," Mumbo said, and both of them laughed weakly.

"I think..." Impulse started after a lengthy pause, voice shuddery from having cried, "I think that I'll be ready. Not now, not yet– but soon. I'll be ready to show you guys."

"And then we can have a party and boo all of the human hermits!" Mumbo blurted as he finished, waving his hands excitedly as he talked. "Hehe, humans suck," he laughed mischievously. For a second, Impulse seemed taken aback by his sudden change in tone, but then he smiled anyway.

"Aww, Wels, Keralis and Hypno are pretty nice though," Impulse argued, a comical whine at the back of his throat. Mumbo shrugged before giving him a skeptical look, "and False isn't?" he called Impulse out.

In response, Impulse shuddered a little. "Nah, she's scary," he said in a hushed tone, half jokingly, half seriously. Mumbo just laughed back, nodding his head in agreement. False was often extremely intimidating for a human. "True, true," he muttered.

Impulse let out a soft sigh and turned back to the counter, holding out his hand for his moth to crawl onto. Her name was Fuzzy, if Mumbo remembered correctly. Impulse noticed Mumbo staring, and held out Fuzzy for him to pet. Mumbo hesitated with a small "uhm..." before patting the moth with a finger. He almost recoiled a little– he wasn't much of an insect guy –but Fuzzy seemed to like it.

"I can leave you alone for a bit, if you'd like," Mumbo said, running his finger along Fuzzy's fuzzy abdomen. He didn't feel like he should overstay his welcome. (ironic, because he was in his own house)

Impulse seemed hesitant, like he wanted to be by himself, but didn't want to tell Mumbo to leave. He gave a tiny nod, pulling Fuzzy back and placing her on top of his head.

"It's alright, I'll give you some space," Mumbo reached back and grabbed the doorknob. "It's good to take time and process things, you know. Plus, they're all probably causing chaos out there and wrecking my house."

Impulse snorted back a weird, sniffly laugh. "Yeah, they might be. ...Thank you. Really, thank you. You're amazing, Mumbo."

"Aww, thanks," Mumbo felt a little blush behind his mustache. He cracked open the door behind him. "I'll leave you be now. You're gonna be okay," he added the last bit as an afterthought.

"Alright, see you in a bit," Impulse smiled.

"See you in a bit," Mumbo repeated, and slipped out.

And, as soon as Mumbo left the bathroom, he did indeed see mischief afoot. Doc, with several curious hermits over his shoulder, was hunched over one of his potted plants, sparkling redstone dust all over it. Mumbo gasped, those flowers were his favorites!

He rushed away like a superhero for his precious flora in the blink of an eye, being quickly swept up into the chaos.

"Doc! Not my plants!!!"

...

It was a good fifteen minutes before there was action around the bathroom door again. Mumbo hadn't been paying attention, giving Impulse his privacy like he'd said he would, but now, Scar was noticeably lingering around the door, talking to Impulse.

The vex must have said something convincing, because soon enough, Impulse set foot into the hallway, stance nervous, but eyes confident. A murmuring arose in the room, people stealing glances down the hallway at Impulse. He and Scar eventually stepped out further into the living room, Scar positioned carefully to hide his form a bit.

However, the hermits were almost on him like news reporters, but Bdubs, unexpectedly, was quick to jump in front of Scar and Impulse with a fast, jerking shake of his head. They instantly knew what that meant; it meant stop, they'd gone too far. The hermits backed off, nodding calmly.

Bdubs ran back to the corner of the living room and grabbed two bags, his own and what looked like Impulse's, before going up to Mumbo. "We'll be on our way now," he said, jerking his head back towards the other two, "The sleepover was a blast, I had a lot of fun."

Someone in the crowd snickered out, "Had a lot of fun sleeping."

Bdubs huffed and gave an eye roll, then held out his hand to Mumbo for a high five. Mumbo gave him one with a swift nod and a "Thank you!" The moss covered man smiled back before joining Scar and Impulse at the front door.

Scar, who already had his bag slung over his shoulder, waved cheerily to the rest of the hermits, with a loud "See ya!" As the trio left, Mumbo could've sworn he heard one of the whisper-shout "DPS- we're the best!" right before the door shut noisily behind them.

Mumbo sighed, overwhelmingly calm and relieved, and decided to go make himself a third cup of tea, because why not.

After Impulse had left, the rest of the hermits trickled out steadily, until Mumbo was left to an empty house. It still showed traces of people, though, in the cheeto dust fingerprints on the couch, a mark of an ever messy Tango. Or maybe that had been Zedaph. Or Scar. Who knows, honestly. It was a mess and one that needed to be tidied.

And that's what Mumbo resorted to doing for the rest of the day, cleaning up. While doing so, he wondered curiously about Impulse, the man's words popping to the forefront of his mind often. I think that I'll be ready. Not now, not yet– but soon.

Impulse would reveal his species when the time was right. And when he did, the hermits would welcome him in with open arms.

All that was left now for Mumbo to do was wait.

And that he did.

~ end chapter twenty three ~

A/N: weird art woo hoo! I love this chapter, and I'm suuuuper excited for the next few!!!

The hermits... they knowwwww

>:)