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refuge-au · 2 years

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> Open File: Xisuma's Letter

External File: Xisuma’s Letter

[An image of a crumpled piece of notebook paper. Lines of writing in a cramped, neat handwriting cover the page. It appears to have been torn to pieces, but reassembled for the recording purposes. There is a deep indent in the middle of the page where it was wrapped around something vaguely rectangular. It reads:]

Xen,

By the time you read this, I’ll be off planet. I don’t know how long it will take you to forgive me enough to find this wherever you stashed it, but I hope it’s not too late for me to try to make up for things.

I’m sorry I’m leaving you. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye in person.

I knew that if I saw how angry you are at me, I wouldn’t be able to go through with it… and not going through with it isn’t an option.

The REFUGE mission has to succeed, and I need to be on it for that to happen.

Maybe that’s narcissistic of me to say, but everyone around me seems to believe it- and I believe it too. This crew is made of the most experienced, most educated, most skilled and talented people I’ve ever met. The best of the best. We are all needed to make sure that nothing goes wrong.

I can’t stay.

I’m sorry.

I’ve included something in this letter that I hope will help make you slightly less angry with me. It’s a flash drive that I took from the lab. Theoretically, anything that you put onto it will be instantly accessible via its other half. Its not a copy, it’s that same file- both drives access the same data storage.

You have this one, and I have the other. If you ever need me, you can contact me by putting a file onto the drive, and I’ll be able to get it and respond, hopefully even when we’re FTL.

Admittedly, I don’t know if it will work. It’s not exactly finished, and I wasn’t exactly supposed to be taking it from the lab, but it’s the only thing I could think of that would help make it feel less like I was abandoning you. I thought it might make you feel better to know that you can reach me if you need me.

I’m going to be alright, Xen. You will be too, and so will everything else. Everything’s going to be fine.

I’ll see you once we’re planetside and we have communications reestablished.

Your brother,

Xisuma Void

[On the bottom of the page, several words have been scratched into the paper by a different, shakier hand.]

GZPV NV LFGHRWV GL NB TIVVM TZIWVM

Computer: Input Command:

> Continue.

#beep boop beep boop #we become aware of the void as we fill it // xisuma #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft refuge au #refuge au #hermitcraft arg #hermitcraft refuge arg #prologue #refuge arg #command input needed #xisuma #evil xisuma

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songbirdsanctuary · 20 days

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Safe Space, part 5: Red and Blue

Part of a HermitCraft au read the rest to understand.

Part 5/??

Warnings: Panic attack, almost self-harm

Word count: 1,121

Grian sat in silence, his gaze fixed upon the contents of the blue sulker box laid out before him. The weight of unexpected emotions pressed heavily upon his chest, threatening to overwhelm him. He hadn't intended to open this particular box, yet here he was, confronted with memories he had long sought to bury.

His eyes lingered on each item with a mixture of sorrow and regret. There lay a pair of red and blue headphones, once cherished by someone dear to him, now silent and forgotten. Beside them rested an old blue t-shirt, its fabric worn and faded. A piece of broken glass caught his attention next, the shard glinting in the dim light.

But it was the sight of the bloody pocket knife that seized his heart with a vice-like grip. His fingers trembled as he reached for it, the metal cool against his skin. It was a relic of darker days, a symbol of violence and desperation. The blade, once sharp and gleaming, now dulled and stained with rust, bore witness to a past he could never fully escape.

He traced the outline of the knife with a heavy sigh, memories flooding his mind like a torrential downpour. Each nick and scratch told a story of its own, a narrative of pain and regret etched into its very being. Yet, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, one truth remained painfully clear – he had never wielded this knife in self-defense.

In that moment of quiet reflection, Grian found himself grappling with the weight of his own actions, the choices that had led him down that path. And as he stared into the abyss of his own soul.

Something within him shattered into irreparable fragments, as if a dam had burst within his soul. He crumpled, collapsing onto the unforgiving wooden floor, consumed by a deluge of emotions. Waves of anguish, sorrow, and despair cascaded over him, each wave crashing against the fragile walls he had erected around his heart. As tears streamed down his face, he found himself enveloped in the suffocating grip of his own grief.

In a feeble attempt to shield himself from the onslaught of pain, he instinctively curled his wings around his trembling form, seeking solace in the only refuge he had left. His wings, once symbols of freedom and strength, now served as a fragile barrier between him and the world that seemed intent on tearing him apart.

“Grian?” The sound of his name, spoken with concern, pierced through the haze of his anguish. He lifted his head, eyes swollen and red, to meet the gaze of Iskall. Panic surged within him at the thought of being seen in such a vulnerable state. No, he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone witnessing him like this.

As Iskall cautiously approached, his hand extended in a gesture of concern, Grian's panic intensified. His heart raced, and a surge of adrenaline propelled him into action. Without a moment's hesitation, he unfurled his wings and launched himself into the air, the frantic beating of his wings propelling him forward with reckless abandon. In his frenzied flight, he narrowly avoided colliding with the walls, his mind consumed by the overwhelming need to escape.

Turning sharply in mid-air, Grian fled from the scene, desperate to put as much distance as possible between himself and the source of his turmoil. Yet, amidst the chaos of his emotions, a flicker of lucidity emerged—a distant recollection of the Safe Room he and Mumbo had painstakingly constructed for moments just like this.

With newfound purpose, he altered his course once more, streaking through the sky with unwavering determination. The memory of safety and sanctuary spurred him onward, each beat of his wings driving him closer to the haven he sought.

Arriving at Mumbo's base, Grian landed with a sense of urgency, wasting no time as he sprinted towards the door of the Safe Room. With a forceful swing, he flung it open, the heavy door reverberating with the impact as it slammed shut behind him.

Seeking solace in the comforting embrace of the room, Grian collapsed onto the bed, its surface adorned with layers of soft blankets and an array of plush toys. Clutching a green dragon plush tightly to his chest, he surrendered to the overwhelming weight of his emotions, tears flowing freely as he curled up amidst the warmth and familiarity of his makeshift refuge.

Exhausted from the tumultuous journey of his heart and mind, Grian succumbed to the solace of sleep, his troubled dreams enveloping him in a temporary respite from the pain that had engulfed him.

As he gradually emerged from the depths of sleep, the disorientation that enveloped him was palpable, like a thick fog obscuring his senses. For a fleeting moment, the world around him seemed alien, unfamiliar, until the fragments of memory pieced themselves together, revealing the source of his unease—a haunting echo of the panic attack that had seized him. Tears welled up once more, a testament to the raw intensity of his emotions.

With trembling limbs, he rose from the confines of his bed, the weight of exhaustion dragging at his every movement. Navigating the brightly lit room with faltering steps, he found himself drawn towards the bathroom, a refuge in the midst of turmoil. There, amidst the sterile gleam of porcelain and metal, he confronted his reflection, the twisted reflection of a soul in turmoil.

The rusted pocket knife lay nestled within his grasp, its edges dulled by neglect, a silent witness to the depths of his despair. For a heartbeat, he entertained the notion of surrender, of succumbing to the siren call of oblivion. He pressed the blade to his wrist, but he stopped himself.

“This isn’t good,” he murmured to himself, the words a mantra against the encroaching shadows.

With trembling hands, he closed the blade, a gesture of reluctant acquiescence to the whispers of reason that echoed within. Fleeing the suffocating confines of the bathroom, he sought solace amidst the disheveled sheets of his bed, a sanctuary in the storm.

Grasping the communicator that lay discarded amidst a sea of unread messages, he cast aside the clamor of the outside world, focusing his attention on a singular name—Mumbo. Fingers trembling with urgency, he typed out a plea for aid, a lifeline cast into the abyss of despair.

<Grian> Mumbo, can you come to the safe room?

As the message hung suspended in the digital ether, a glimmer of hope pierced the suffocating darkness that threatened to consume him whole. Moments stretched into eternity, each heartbeat a drumbeat of anticipation, until finally, salvation arrived in the form of a single response.

<Mumbo Jumbo> Of course, I’m on my way.

#hermitblr #hermitcraft fanfic #hermitfic #hermitcraft #safe space au #grian #mumbo jumbo

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adina123 · 9 months

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@horizon-penblade

I can’t believe I forgot pearl .

It’s true that she was in empires hermitcraft and life smp but I already have a role for her since the au is focused on the cod alliance I imagined the wither rose alliance are the gems that home world have sent to earth.

fwhip is a peridot that was sent to check on the gem experiments and sausage is a quartz that was there as a guard .

When the cod alliance finds out that there are home world gems on earth again they destroy the ship that brought them to earth leaving them stranded .The two fled and took refuge in a nearby mountain cave .

fwhip was understandably upset by this and became set on revenge he became very petty towards the cod alliance specifically jimmy who was the one that destroyed the ship

Gem joins them later on she was in the same batch as fwhip and came to get him even though by going to earth with out permission she became a defector

Once gem arrived she and fwhip started to appreciate the earth but sausage was still set on returning to home world

So he left the traitors behind and went off on his own but he was lonely and came across a corrupt gem monster

She before the corruption blast she was a crystal gem pearl that fought in the war but now she is a small moth monster that sausage decided to keep around as company

inspired by @playername-player-of-games and @marblegroves and @scrimblescromble

#gemcyt #geminitay #wither rose alliance #mythical sausage #steven universe au #gem au #fwhip #pearlescentmoon #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming

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rma1031 · 1 year

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Hermit Age: Gem

This is a post in regards to my AU, Hermit Age, a crossover-esque AU regarding Hermitcraft (and other HC-adjacent series) within the universe of Dragon Age!

If you haven't seen my interpretation of Impulse or my plans for this AU, do check it out!

This post will all be about how I interpret Gem within Dragon Age!

Appearance

It seems so perfect that Gem is already an elf in the current season of Hermitcraft... so that's what she will be as well in Hermit Age! Slightly taller than a normal elf (elves in Dragon Age are shorter than humans), practically just a few inches shorter than the average human.

Her Minecraft skin will have to be changed though, at least the clothing. Probably something along these lines.

(from this picrew)

And as you can see, there are some face tattoos. These tattoos are called vallaslin, and there are many kinds of vallaslin for the Dalish elves. They are culturally significant to the Dalish and they designate some sense of responsibility and transition to adulthood (like a coming of age ceremony) as well as how they cling onto their traditions and cultures. Gem's vallaslin is for Mythal, the Protector, the All-Mother, goddess of love, the patron of motherhood and justice. Mythal is like one of the two leading figures in the Elven pantheon, the other is Elgar'nan, the All-Father.

Origins and History

Gem came from a once nomadic Dalish clan that moved around frequently in Southern Thedas, from Orlais to Ferelden to the Free Marches. During the Fifth Blight, they were displaced from Ferelden and sought refuge nearby the city-state of Ostwick in the Free Marches. As they tried to take root by the area, the humans felt tense by the arrival of the clan. Tensions swelled as the clan keeper stood adamant, wanting their clan to stay there until the Fifth Blight is truly over. Even after the Hero of Ferelden ended the Blight, the clan never left, having gotten accustomed to this place. Racial tensions between Gem's clan and the people of Ostwick still stood high, even up to the present day.

Just after the events of Dragon Age II Act 2 (after Hawke saved Kirkwall from the Qunari), Gem had always wanted to leave the safety and complacency of her clan life. She loves her clan but she wishes to explore the world out. She missed the nomadic lifestyle that they once had and if she could take journeys out in the world, she can make it work. The clan keeper vehemently protested against her wishes to go out and so she did the next best thing, she fled.

From that point on, she's an adventurer with a curious wanderlust, always looking for ways to explore Thedas with whatever way possible, be it by herself or with people. She was alone at first, but she found Impulse, Pearl, Skizz, and more of their friends. Together, they explore and venture out as both a mercenary band and a group of friends and companions.

Name

Gem got her name from her clan keeper for her piercing green eyes that look like emeralds, not for the beauty of it but rather the way they are striking and fierce. Gem took the name to heart and soon her birth name "Enasiel" (a name around the idea of victory or triumph or joy of triumph over loss in Elven) got overshadowed by it.

People call her Gem but only her closest companions get to call her Enasiel.

Personality

Gem is a curious soul with a wanderlust streak that stemmed from her nomadic childhood. She can get timid occasionally but she has the determination and perseverance to do her tasks and objectives. She's friendly and outgoing at one point and then deathly intimidating and distrustful by the next.

She is decisive, quick-witted and cunning which can help with any situation, but her curiosity can kill her. Luckily she has her companions to be there to stop her.

Equipment and Combat

What Gem wears is medium armor based on leathers, furs, and cloths of dalish elven style designed for agility and easier movement. She carries two swords at all times, dual wielding them during fights to finesse and strike at her enemies quickly. She doesn't use daggers (which are quicker to swing with)

As a rogue, she also carries a thievery kit so she can pick locks and steal what she can get. The thievery kit also helps with disabling traps.

Combat-wise, she prefers quick blows and strikes over heavy ones. She takes on a defensive posture during fights and will go on the aggressive once she sees the opportunity.

Her weakness in combat is her over-reliance on her agility and litheness and her lack of strength. Whenever strength is indeed required, she isn't responsible for it, rather Impulse or Skizz will be there to help.

As an elf, she has resistance against ranged attacks so she's quite formidable against archers and mages.

That's it for Gem! Once I manage to complete my interpretations for the Soup Group + Skizz, I may make a ficlet or fic thing for them! I love these guys so much and I can't wait to expand upon my ideas for each character possible.

If you wish to know more lore, the wiki has always been helpful.

#rma posts #mcyt #hermitcraft #empires smp #dragon age #hermit age au #geminitay

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indigo-flightly-falls · 2 years

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After seeing that Fundy commented on Etho's newest modded episode, I will now ramble about my Hermit! and 3rd Life!Fundy and Etho headcanons because I have quite a few :)

I actually have two Hermit!Fundy AUs, one is where Fundy gets dropped into season 9 after jumping off the bridge, the other he wasn't kidnapped by Sally and never went to the DSMP.

For my own sanity, Hermit!Fundy is the first one and BTNH!Fundy is the one where he was raised in Hermitcraft :)

------------------------------

Hermit!Fundy and Etho has to fight over Bdub's basement. Fundy saw small, cramped, safe space and Etho wanted to cause a bit of chaos. Bdubs forced them to share the space.

Their dynamic is basically 'talks a lot & listens'. It goes both ways, sometimes Fundy will ramble excitedly about redstone and Etho just listens to the kid, while other times Etho will explain his newest idea and Fundy will listen in awe.

Following that, sometimes Bdubs joins in and then it becomes way more chaotic. Not explaining.

You'd think after their first meeting, they might not be on the best of terms, but less then a week after the fight over who gets the basement, they both decided to check out each others progress.

Fundy stims quite a lot, usually with buttons or levers. Etho decided to make Bdubs get some fidget toys for the poor hybrids.

If Ren and Tango helped Fundy accept his hybrid side and his trauma, Etho and Bdubs helped Fundy reclaim his lost childhood.

Etho often teaches Fundy advanced redstone, as this fox loves it but most redstone on the DSMP is very basic and the prison has a very paranoid warden.

-------------------

BTNH!Fundy was whitelisted mid-season 5, shortly after the nHo disbanded. Before that he was a visitor and often hung out with Ren and the nHo. No one knows why Fundy was attracted to the jungle crew, but he was.

When season 7 started and Etho joined, Fundy was the first to run up and give the ninja a hug. Before demanding an answer for why Etho missed season 6.

Fundy joined the Mycelium Resistance in part because he didn't agree with Scar about the grass, but also because Ren and Etho were on that side.

Fundy's base in close to both Ren and Etho's bases. He often just sleeps over at one of the two.

Fundy likes to sneak into Etho's base to look at redstone. Etho knows about this and lets the hybrid think he's sneaky.

In season 8, Fundy lived with Ren, but there was not a week where he wasn't at Etho's at least once.

For almost two months after season 9 started, Fundy spend most of his time at spawn, waiting for his friend. He only gave up when Etho messaged him saying that he'd join in a few weeks.

He was still there when Etho logged on, right at spawn.

These two should be banned from interacting with their watchers, as they both either ignore them or torment them. No inbetween.

Fundy and Etho are also banned from shopping together. Neither of them have any sort of impulse control.

("But X, I wanted the stuffed axolotl!"

"No, please, I am going to make Ren watch you two."

"X, that is not fair."

"Etho, you have a shopping addiction and Fundy's fox instincts make him get anything that catches his attention."

"... You know what, maybe it is fair...")

-------------------

3rd Life!Fundy first came across the refuge party, joined them and then stayed with the village people. He got very attached to Etho pretty fast.

He ended up following the village people to visit Dogwarts and found Ren.

He didn't actually expect Etho to join Dogwarts, but was pretty happy about it. Now he had both people he got attached too on the same team!

He lost his green life from Scar pushing him down a cliff after blowing up Ren. Fundy had a pretty bad panic attack after that and Etho was the one who helped him calm down.

Fundy tried to save Etho from the desert people, causing him to lose his yellow life.

Fundy died just after Etho in the battle of Dogwarts, in the exact same way. Shot by a flaming arrow from Impulse.

Both Etho and Ren may have forced Xiusma to whitelist Fundy after 3rd Life. Fundy joined for season 8 and stuck close to both Etho and Ren via elytra.

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #dsmp x hc #hc x dsmp #fundy #ethoslab #3rd life #etho #I actully love these two #let me ramble #also just a reminder that I headcanon Fundy as 16-17 #He sees most of Hermitcraft as his mentors and old siblings #Ren's his dad #Kinda Fundy is uncomfortable with calling people parent-figures after Wilbur #trafficblr

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trenchcoatsbi · 5 months

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This is sorta directed at Tom because I know he likes musicals but anybody can answer <3

So I may have watched a recorded version of the Newsies broadway production. And hermitcraft/traffic life AU anybody :3

Grian is Jack ofc. Scar is Crutchie and Mumbo is Kathrine and weither or not you want romance you've got fun options and if you don't then grian has two funny friends!!! Jimmy is Davy and Lizzie is the little kid. I just like the idea of Lizzie being like 13 but looking younger and using it to get people to buy more papers. i think it fits.

I'm not sure wheither I like the Watchers being the Newspaper comaniny or Snider and the Refuge better because either are fun! On one hand, them being The World fits the traffic games but also them being Snider feeds into the common grian-ran-away-from-the-watchers headcanon so- (I'm thinking the Listeners are which ever one ends up not being the Watchers)

The manhatten newsies are the traffic crew, and the other boughs are different smps. I'm thinking brooklyn is either empires or hermitcraft. There are little background moments of the traffic crew and ofc I'm saying Dogwarts have got a weird qpr poly energy behind every interaction.

I dreamt of this last night so you get it now - Voidling Anon

oh hihihih sorry Newsies lives rent free in my head well okay not rent free rent free musicals come in second to my crippling minecraft hyperfixation but rahghghg I fucking love them.

anyway fuck man yeah thats so fucking silly i love that

#phil posts #sbi asks #voidling anon

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theunexplainable · 2 years

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Greenhouse au!

Basically, Hermitcraft is just a giant greenhouse that Xisuma owns, his father used to own it but gave it too him. And a lot of plant people take refuge there, some leave and some stay, but at least X has a bunch of friends!

Every plant hybrid has their own section of the greenhouse so they can grow whatever they like! And btw, the greenhouse is fucking huge, like, bigger than the industrial ones lol. Some of the hybrids like staying near friends, some like being alone, some don't mind either!

All the plant people specialize in different plants, they can work with almost any plants, but usually make a strong connection to one or more specific kinds.

Also, they basically look normal other than some have black eyes, and have plants growing out of them, usually the ones they specialize in!

Scar, a specialist in Bluebells, who like Cub, a Phalaenopsis specialist, is also part vex.

Mumbo, a specialist in black roses and daisies, no one knows how they're black, not even Mumbo.

Grian, not as much a plant as he is fungus, specializes with The Prince, Honey Mushroom, Chicken of The Woods, and the Fly Argaric. He can also work with molds and almost all decomposer plants.

Cleo specializes with Selaginella lepidophylla, and Italian Cypresses, she is also a zombie hybrid, which they personally think is ironic.

Joe is a poetic one, so of course he specializes with Laurel trees it's a joke only he seems to find funny, or maybe very few understand.

Doc is a creeper hybrid, due to an accident he also has cybernetic prosthetics, specifically, his right arm and the left side of his head! He specializes in Bryopsida moss, also known as True moss, because he is truly the best. [It was originally Java mos, but that's an underwater moss lol]

TFC specializes with Eryngos, which he finds pretty. :]

Ren is a dog hybrid, so it's only fair that he specializes in Anethum Graveolens and Nasturtium, he says they smell good.

[That's all I have for now! Hope you guys like, if you ask about someone who wasn't mentioned, I'll tell you what I think they would specialize in!]

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mcytblrconfessions · 2 years

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Hi. Anon who wants more Hermitcraft space aus here. I am literally in tears (not even an exaggeration I am actually crying atm) because i just found the refuge au i mentioned again. I am so confused Ive been looking for that thing for so long i just kinda gave up in early 2021 cause i figured if i hadn’t found it yet it was probably gone for good and now the blog is just there??? Out of nowhere after like three years?? And everything is gone? Theres like five posts on there now and its like the story restarted and theres no explanation whatsoever i am so gods damn sad what the hell happened!??.?

If the creator of that au is reading this id just like you to know your au is great and youre a very talented writer. I miss that thing and im sad its gone

#smp: hermitcraft #confession

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i-only-write-in-purple-ink · 1 year

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Day 2: Crown (12 Days of Writers Self Love)

I couldn’t decide which of two ideas I wanted to do more, so I did them both! Apologies if this got a little long. I really did enjoy writing these, this challenge is turning out wonderfully! Many thanks to @writeblrfantasy for creating it!

1. Hermitcraft Season 8, White Wings AU (main story here) 2. Hermitcraft Season 9, Third Life SMP

1. HC Season 8, White Wings AU

Tommy had seen many crowns in his lifetime.

The gem-encrusted crown of the SMP, first worn by Eret, and then George.

Ranboo’s humble diadem, studded with rough-cut rubies and emeralds mined by hand from the depths of the earth.

The golden spikes adorning the top of Sam’s Warden armor, fused to the mask he had worn more and more often.

Techno’s simple golden circlet, twin to Phil’s silver one, relics of an empire long past.

But he had never worn one of his own before now.

False measured out a length of copper wire before presenting it to Tommy with a wink. “It’s easier if you start with this.”

Gem taught him how to weave stalks of grass together, how to twist and braid the fragile stems around the wire until they formed something resilient, stronger. Something complete.

Stress regaled him with the meanings of different flowers, what made them grow the best, which ones were good for tea or scents or dyes. Under her careful eye he worked Queen Anne’s lace, lavender, daffodils, and yellow orchids into the strands of his masterpiece.

Iskall chuckled as he swept a lock of Tommy’s ivory hair away from his eyes. “Ready?” He asked, his organic eye twinkling with warmth as it darted around Tommy’s face. Tommy nodded, expression implacable, and Iskall placed the completed flower crown gracefully among his curls. The Swede examined his handiwork for a moment, tucking hair or flowers into place, before nodding in satisfaction.

Iskall picked up his own creation from the ground beside him, sporting purple asters and orange orchids, and crowned himself with a flourish. Tommy tilted his head, judging through squinted eyes. After a few seconds a small smile rose to his face, and he nodded in approval. It's good. I like it, he signed.

A small noise made them both turn to where Xisuma was seated on the soft grass, his crown of blue bellflowers and pink dahlias resting crookedly on top of his helmet. He was struggling to right it, but the mechanical axolotl gills on either side of his visor made it so that the woven headress kept slipping. “I guess I’m just not made for crowns,” he said good-naturedly when he noticed them looking, giving up the fight and leaving the flowers slightly off-kilter.

Perfect, Tommy signed to him, and the admin let out a surprised laugh. “Perfect? I suppose it does suit me. I’m a bit of derp even on the best of days.”

Tommy leaned back, and let the sun hit his face. Laughter danced in the wind as the Hermits delighted in the carefree summer day. He had never felt so far and yet so close to home.

-----

// Yes, I know these flowers wouldn’t all exist in the same climate as each other. But honestly this is Minecraft fanfiction so lower your expectations and let me have my dramatic flower symbolism :’D

// I really like that trope in fiction, I wish people did more of it. And can you tell I’m a sucker for found family? Lol

// Not me giving my headcanons for the DSMP crowns and forgetting all about the MCC champion team crowns. 💀 MCC is only sort of canon to this universe.... we can chalk it up to ww!Tommy never participating in MCC before, that’s only for the really famous competitive types like Technoblade and Grian. Yep. Definitely no plotholes here.

// Flower Meanings vvv

Tommy:

Queen Anne’s lace (safety, sanctuary, and refuge)

Lavender (purity, silence, serenity)

Daffodils (rebirth, new beginnings)

Yellow Orchids (new beginnings, friendship, joy)

Iskall:

Asters (love, wisdom, trust)

Orange Orchids (pride, enthusiasm, boldness)

Xisuma:

Bellflowers (affection, constancy, unwavering love)

Pink Dahlias (elegance, grace, kindness)

2. HC Season 9, 3rd Life SMP

Kingmaker. That’s what they called him.

Ren rolled the chess piece between his fingers, relishing the weight of the solid obsidian. It made a satisfying clack as he placed it back in its spot on the board. The black queen.

If he was the king, the ruler over the entire Hermitcraft server, then Bdubs would be his queen. He certainly wielded enough power; it was through Bdubs’ support alone that Ren won the crown. Bdubs was the one who built the Crastle for him, who was his advisor, defender, friend. His second-in-command, his right… hand….

Ren frowned, unease rising in his gut, a sudden chill burning the tips of his fingers. He curled his hands into fists on reflex. Something wasn’t right.

He rose from his throne with a growl and swept down the stairs from the royal dais, his cape billowing out behind him. His paws made no noise on the plush carpet running down the center of the throne room, keeping away the chill of solid stone.

“Sir BdoubleO? Your king summons you!” Ren called, his voice echoing through the empty stone halls. He waited a few moments, but only silence answered.

“Bdubs? Where are youuuuu….” His words bounced eerily off of the cavernous ceilings, echoing back as if mocking him. He hesitantly ventured down a hallway, turned, and was faced with an identical hallway. He followed it, but that only yielded another similar looking passageway. The next was almost exactly the same. And the next. Ren frowned. He hadn’t remembered there being quite this many corridors in his Crastle.

He followed more turns, traversed more corridors, calls going unheard and unanswered, until he realized he was well and truly lost. Ren stopped at a four-way intersection, glancing down each hall. They all felt familiar, but was that because they looked the same or because he truly recognized them?

Ren pulled his cloak tighter around himself, shivering. And when had it gotten so cold? He needed to tell Bdubs to install some sort of heating system in the castle, like magma blocks behind the walls or something. These were not livable temperatures, certainly not for a king.

Ren’s breath had begun to fog the air by the time he reached something that certainly didn’t belong: a set of arched glass doors, metalwork spiraling intricately across their frosted surface. The metal handles were bitterly cold, but they turned without protest as he pushed the double doors open.

Beyond lay a courtyard, dead branches hanging like corpses over flowerbeds full of dried leaves. A few inches of snow was dusted over everything in sight, drifting heavily in the corners and on the trees. Ren’s trepidation spiked. It was supposed to be summer on the Hermitcraft server, after all. And the Crastle didn’t have an interior garden.

He stepped out into the courtyard, bracing himself against the freezing gusts of air. His royal cape was woefully equipped to protect him from the full wrath of a winter’s wind. The harsh blasts died down into a biting breeze as he neared the center of the courtyard, snow crunching beneath his paws. Ren scarcely minded the cold as he stared wide-eyed at the centerpiece of this unnatural display.

A large stone altar rose from the ground, more of an elevated platform than anything else. Ren ascended its steps, captivated by the rough, indecipherable runes hewn deep into the surface. Lines had been cut straight across the top slab, radiating out from a shallow, bowl-like indentation at the middle. Blood channels, Ren realized with a growing horror. Blood channels that had clearly already been used.

A sudden growl had him tensing, ears lying flat and lips pulled back into a snarl. The sound seemed to emenate from every corner of the courtyard at once, circling as one would stalk prey. It was more than a threat. This was the hunting call of a predator.

Ren scanned the courtyard wildly, but there was nothing to see except a slate-gray sky bordered by gargoylic crenelations and the first few flurries of snowfall. The rumbling grew louder and louder, until the very air trembled before it. Oh, little wolf, the voice purred, smugly satisfied and impossibly deep.

“Who are you?” Ren shouted at the sky, hating the way his voice had gone high-pitched with fear.

The voice merely chuckled, the sinister whisper of a blade pulled from its sheath. Winter is coming, it intoned. And the crown weighs heavy.

Ren spun in place, breaths coming sharp and cold biting at his lungs. The voice was crushing him from all sides, pushing him down to his hands and knees on the cold, stone altar.

Do ye have what it takes to be KING, Rendog?

And Ren woke in his royal bedchambers, gasping for air and sheets soaked in sweat. His hands didn’t stop shaking for the rest of the day.

-----

// I am just now getting into the 3rd life fandom (yes, a year late) and holy cow I love the Red King so much!! Big kudos to dog at the door by fluffy_papaya and iamsolarflare for getting me hooked on Ren’s lore, it’s one of my favorite fics ever.

// For the voice, have you heard the voice of the Old God N’Zoth from the Warbringers short? Yeah, that but with a hint of Scottish accent. Very dark and powerful-sounding.

Deal? I like deals.... *eldritch laughter*

- N’Zoth the Corruptor

#12 days of writers self love #hermitcraft #white wings au #eburnean #eburnean tommy #hermitcraft season 8 #hermitcraft season 9 #third life #3rd life smp #the red king #rendog #fanfiction #why is this so much easier to write than regular chapters #happy december y'all

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duckmumbo · 2 years

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tell us about plant powers mumbo if you have any specific thoughts!! -mnd

I have so many thoughts you don’t even know

- I think Mumbo spent more time in the s8 world than the actual irl break was. There’s the almost 3 months that the actual break took place, but in my au I think Mumbo tried for the first month or so to contact them through his communicator, but he couldn’t reach them (bc void interference) so after a while he gave up and either lost it or broke it in a fit of rage. He spends the next two months trying to figure out a way off of the server, but he can’t leave because a part of him is still so reluctant to leave since as far as he knows, he’s the only hermit still alive, and he doesn’t want to know if that’s true or not, so the plants don’t let him leave.

Meanwhile, on the s9 server, boatem has arrived and they’re frantically trying to convince the hermits with admin powers to let them go back to the s8 world to see if mumbo’s still there, but they don’t let them go for at least another month because plot and safety concerns. Eventually, they get to go, and they bring Mumbo back and they all live mostly happily ever after <3

- When the moon crashed into s8 with Mumbo still on it, he panic grew a giant canopy of trees to protect him (think that scene in guardians of the galaxy when Groot sacrifices himself to save everyone else). It works, but he can’t figure out how to get them to go back, so this means he spends the next 3 months living with no lighting other than the torches and lanterns left behind by the hermits and some giant glowberry vines that he grew

This also means that when he gets to s9, he’s not at all used to the sun anymore, and he ends up taking refuge in Scar’s tree because it’s darker in there and he can’t relax if he’s not surrounded on all sides by the humming of plant life

- His vault. His main regret after s8 is spending so much time on the Mooners that he never thought to prepare for the worst, to have a safe place for his family friends to go if worse came to worst. So he builds a vault. He hides behind jokes of being the richest hermit, behind saying that nobody is allowed to enter the vault and it’s for his eyes only, but really he’s preparing a huge underground bunker for them to ride out anything he can possibly think of. It starts out as just for the members of boatem with his starter base, but then as he settles in more and spends more time with the other hermits he starts to draw up plans for a bigger one, one that all the hermits could fit in comfortably with room to spare

- I’ve been seeing a lot of aus recently where people invade hermitcraft and attack them (shoutout to test tube Zedaph au it’s a major source of brainrot right now), so I think Mumbo would also worry about that alongside the rest of his doomsday preparations. He sets up an elaborate network of modified plant seeds underground, including stuff like buffed wither roses, Venus fly traps, and other dangerous plants (shoutout to the Stepping Stones series on ao3 and how they wrote Tubbo with plant powers for the inspo for this) that are just lying dormant, waiting for him to activate it and let them grow in case of people coming to hermitcraft to hurt them.

- I’ve just realized there’s a bit of a plot hole with Bdubs and some other hermits canonically still being on the s8 world when the moon hit so I’m just gonna say the other hermits weren’t going to let this happen so they forced them to leave with everyone else. No hermit left behind (except mumbo but that’s not his fault) <3

#me making that last post: yeah I wanna talk about it but idk what I feel like I need a jumping off point or something #me getting this ask and it unlocking my brain somehow: haha words go brr #thanks for the ask hope this was what you wanted gksbkfbdjf #roy talks #peace love and even more plants au #answered #mnd my beloved #I’ve just decided you get a tag #mumbo #hermitcraft

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zumwhy-plays-minecraft · 4 years

Note

Hi- you wrote the Refuge AU, right? Sorry, I couldn't find the blog for it and was wondering what happened to it... (also it's very well written, btw!!)

Nonny, I’ve tried to answer this four times already and I still don’t know how to put it the best way, so I’m sorry if this comes off rude or harsh or mean or dumb or something.

I did write the Refuge AU. It did have a blog. A side blog. From my main blog.

I deleted the sideblog.

...

I haven’t been in the best of places recently. I’ve been doing really well at hiding it- I think- but that’s the truth.

Since I’ve been so down, I’ve done a lot of introspection, and as I’ve done so... I’ve started to associate the Refuge AU with the ‘bad’. And I know, logically, that it has nothing to do with all the shit that was going down, but...

So I stopped updating the AU, and I tried to ignore the side blog but every time I opened my blog list it was always there and I always felt gross even though I knew that there was no reason for me to be feeling so bad about something I created, something I poured DAYS of my life into-

And it got to be too much. I deleted it.

I’m sorry.

I’ve still got all of the fic part of it in a google doc, and if you look now, you’ll find that there’s an empty blog at @refuge-au

It’s not a side blog.

I’m going to mess around with permissions on the google doc, and then I’m going to post a link on the blog tagged above. Everyone will be able to access the google doc. Everyone will be able to read the entirety of the fic/arg easily and in order and right there.

Once the link is posted, I don’t think I’m gonna go on that blog for a while. I don’t know if I’m ever going to continue the Refuge AU- and I’m sorry for that too.

I’m just...

Tired.

I guess.

I know this wasn’t the answer you were looking for. I’m glad that you like the story. I’ve always liked telling stories. I’m sorry that this one isn’t going to get the ending that it, or it’s readers, deserve.

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refuge-au · 2 years

Note

> Open the Doctor's file

Doc: Prepare for the Procedure

The room was much too small for four people to stay in for fifteen minutes, much less two and a half hours. Barely enough room for a table and four chairs, the undecorated white walls and the windowless door teamed up with the low ceiling to make the sensation that the walls were closing in bad enough that Doc wanted to- to-

To claw his way out of this hellhole with his bare hands, run into the woods, and live out the remaining years he had left before he… live out the remaining years he had left as a wild man in the woods.

The chatter from his team wasn’t helping. Their voices bounced off the walls, reverberating and doubling back on them. He had paced the perimeter of the room two hundred and three times, and he was about to make it two hundred and four as he desperately tried to keep calm. He wasn’t built for small spaces. None of them were.

Well, Etho was, but Etho was an anomaly, and besides, as long as he had the ability to bother Bdubs in one way or another, he would be happy as a clam. To prove that point, the man himself was, as Doc completed his lap around the room, grinning devilishly and reaching across Bdubs, who was sputtering, and holding a small golden pocket watch as far away from him as possible.

“You keep your filthy paws off my property!” Bdubs cried, attempting to shove Etho away with his free hand.

Etho was using his height to his advantage, not even having to strain to keep his prize almost in reach. “Oh, come on, man, I just want to see it-“

“See it? You’ll break it! Take it apart! And it’ll never be the same! Ship of Theseus! Beef! Help!”

“Ship of Theseus is when you replace all the parts of something, not when you take something apart and put it back together.” Beef said, his eyes not leaving the wall. “So, us, not the watch.”

Etho snorted, and Doc sighed heavily, stopping in his tracks in front of the door.

“I’m sick of this.” He said tersely. “They’re not coming to get us. Let’s find our own way down.”

“That would be a wonderful idea, if that door wasn’t locked from the outside.” Bdubs said, lowering his guard as Etho leaned away from him, settling fully into his seat for the first time. “I don’t think they’ll appreciate you breaking down their door.”

“Well, I don’t appreciate them keeping us in here for hours without telling us what’s going on!” Doc said. “You can stay if you want, but I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“Just don’t try to pin the blame on me this time.” Beef said, standing up and moving around to the other side of the room. “Want me to help?”

“No, I’ve got it.” Doc said, and after pressing one hand to the metal, he drew back his other arm, and punched forward.

The door slammed into the wall on the other side of the hallway, a fist shaped dent directly next to the handle. Doc shook out his arm, steam hissing as the vents along its side glowed red, as he stepped into the hallway. Almost instantly it was easier to breath, his back straightening as he rolled his shoulders back.

The rest of the team joined him in the hallway, Beef dragging the door back along the scratches it had made in the floor to rest it gingerly against the doorframe.

“They’ll never notice anything’s different.” Etho said dryly.

“Of course not.” Beef replied. “After all, you did a great job getting us out of there discreetly.”

“Oh, so the story’s that I punched the door open?”

“What’re you talking about stories for? That’s what happened!” Bdubs chimed in, elbowing Etho in the ribs gently, and earning an eye roll.

“Bdubs, you want to take us down to the lab?” Doc asked, craning his neck to look down the hallway. As much as he would love to stay and chat, the longer they lingered, the more likely they would be caught at the scene of the crime- and that never ended well.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get us there.” Bdubs pulled out the watch again, checking it, then flipping it over to check the compass built into its underside. He frowned slightly at what he saw, spinning on his heel to face the other direction and cocking his head to the side.

It was always easy to see when Bdubs was mapping. He always did the same thing. Check the time, check where North is, recall, if they’d been there before, or he’d seen a map, or estimate, if they were on their own. Then, within a few seconds, once he’d determined the right route-

“Alrighty, folks.” Bdubs said, tucking the watch away into his pocket. “Follow me!”

Bdubs led the group down the hallway and into a skinny stairwell that seemed to go up or down into infinity, whichever way you wanted to look. Without hesitation, he started to head downstairs, so the rest of the group followed suit.

Several flights of stairs later, they reached the basement, and entered the lab through a set of double doors that lead onto a metal catwalk.

It was huge, the room stretching off into the distance, much larger than the building they had been in for sure. Computers lined most of the walls, and tables covered in scientific equipment and technology turned most of the floor into a maze. Beef whistled lowly at the sight of it, and even Etho made a noise of approval.

Near the middle of the room a space had been cleared, with several large blue tanks set up around it, and a terminal with lots of wires running out of it square in the center.

A man with frizzy hair looked up from the terminal as they approached, and frowned. “Where’s your escort?”

“We weren’t given one.” Beef said. “Had to find our way down on our own.”

“And we are so sorry about that.” A voice came from behind, and they turned to see Xisuma striding across the floor in a battered green combat suit, a helmet tucked under his arm. Several people trailed after him, including a harried looking assistant that appeared to be holding a breathing mask, and several people in the same uniforms that the team was wearing.

Most worrying of the people following him, was the group of armed guards surrounding a cyborg with pink and gold metallic augmentations. The man didn’t appear to be restrained at all, but there was a large bolt of some sort attached to his neck, close to his jaw, and he didn’t look very happy to be there.

Most interesting of the people following him was a man who made Doc stop dead in his tracks. He was tall, his skin a deep red that was mottled with lighter reds and pinks, two stubby horns barely poking out from his short black hair. His mouth was closed, but Doc was sure if he opened it, he’d see fangs, and if he would move his hands so they weren’t clasped in front of him, hidden, he was sure he would see that the pads of his fingers were black.

He was a Hybrid.

Like him.

He didn’t have time to process what this meant, or say anything, unfortunately, as the scientists swarmed around them, checking vitals, ushering them towards the tubes they would be sleeping away the long journey in- Xisuma stood in the center, next to the man who had spoken to them, overseeing it all.

As the scientists stepped away, the man on the computer cleared his throat.

“Right. Well. My name is Jaspers. I’m the one in charge of the cryounit operation, and this is hopefully the only time you’ll ever see me, since I’m remaining groundside. Let’s skip the pleasantries and get to business, shall we?”

“The first thing that’s going to happen is we’re going to put a tube down your trachea, into your lungs, and then we’re going to affix a breathing mask to that. Then we’re going to put you to sleep, and we’ll handle the rest from there. It’ll be a very quick, almost painless procedure for you.” Jaspers said.

“Ah, almost painless. That’s always fun.” Beef murmured.

Jaspers sighed, and moved over to Doc, opening the cryopod and having him step inside. Doc swallowed as the glass almost enclosed him.

“Hey, Doc in a jar! Five bucks a pop, get ‘em now at your local supermarket.” Bdubs called.

“Come on, five bucks? I’m worth at least ten.” He replied, smile fading as Jaspers approached with a flexible tube and a mask.

It didn’t hurt, necessarily, seeing as his trachea had been replaced with machinery along with his larynx and most of his outer throat, but sitting there, fully conscious with a tube down his throat, inside his lungs, and coming out of his mouth was a weird feeling.

“Very attractive.” Etho said dryly from the pod beside him. Doc wiggled his eyebrows and resisted the urge to speak, trying to swallow the fear that was rising inside of him. He was fine. This was fine. He shouldn’t be nervous.

God knows he’d been through worse.

“Alright. We’ll be putting you under now.” Jaspers said, appearing from nowhere with an air mask.

Doc’s eyes widened. Now? Right now? Before all the others? Without saying goodbye? Right now? What? No. No!

But the mask was being fitted over his face, and he couldn’t make any noise beside a sort of strangled groan.

“See you on the other side, Doc!” Bdubs said, the others chiming in with vaguely reassuring goodbyes- no, not goodbyes. Goodbyes were too permanent. Too final. They weren’t goodbyes, they were… see you laters?

He didn’t have time to think of what exactly they were, as the mask hissed, gas filling his lungs with no resistance, and his world went dark.

Computer: Input Command: Show Available Files:

> Open the Pilot’s File

> Open the Captain’s File (New)

> Continue.

#prologue #the peril the wind sings to in the wires // doc #doc #etho #bdubs #beef #xisuma #biffa #python #hermitcraft au #hermitcraft refuge au #refuge au #hermitcraft arg #hermitcraft refuge arg #refuge arg #nho #command input needed

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songbirdsanctuary · 20 days

Text

Safe Space, part 4: A Cozy Sanctuary

This is part of a Hermitcraft au, I recommend reading the others first to understand this.

Warnings: none

Word count: 968

When Grian arrived at Mumbo's base, he found his friend tinkering away in his redstone workshop, surrounded by the gentle hum of machinery and the soft glow of torchlight.

"Mumbo," Grian began tentatively, his voice betraying the weight of the dreams that still lingered in his mind, "I need to talk to you about something. I’ll take your offer."

Mumbo walked over to him, “You changed your mind fast, did something happen?” Grian hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor as he wrestled with the words bubbling up inside him. He hadn't anticipated Mumbo's question, nor had he prepared himself to share the depths of his turmoil with his friend. The memories of his haunting dream still lingered, their tendrils wrapping around his thoughts like a vine.

"Nothing happened," Grian finally replied, his voice strained with the weight of his unspoken fears. He could feel Mumbo's gaze boring into him, searching for the truth hidden behind his carefully constructed facade.

But Mumbo didn't press further, sensing Grian's reluctance to delve into the darkness that lurked within him. Instead, he simply nodded, his expression a mixture of understanding and concern.

"Well, whatever it is, just know that I'm here for you, mate," Mumbo said, his words infused with sincerity. "You don't have to face it alone."

Grian felt a surge of gratitude wash over him, grateful for Mumbo's unwavering support in his time of need. "Thank you, Mumbo," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Mumbo smiled warmly, reaching out to clap a hand on Grian's shoulder. "Hey, that's what friends are for, right? Now, why don't we focus on the plans for the room?"

With that, Mumbo led Grian to a secluded corner of his base, away from prying eyes and prying ears. "I've been thinking," Mumbo began, his voice low as if sharing a secret, "about it being like a bedroom, with soft carpet, air condtioning, and a king sized bed."

Grian's eyes widened in surprise,. "That... That could work," he said, his mind racing with possibilities. "Have you already planed almost the hole thing??"

Mumbo grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Maye... I've gotten a few more ideas up my sleeve that I think you'll like."

After several days of dedicated effort, they finally completed the construction of what they dubbed the "Safe Room." Nestled under Mumbo’s base, this sanctuary boasted dimensions akin to a cozy bedroom, complete with a snug queen-sized bed adorned with some of Grian's spare clothing. The ambiance was serene, with walls painted in a soothing cream hue complemented by a plush sage green carpet underfoot. Illuminating the space were whimsical frog lights embedded in the ceiling, casting a soft, comforting glow.

Attached to this haven was a convenient bathroom, featuring a refreshing shower to wash away the burdens of the day. The room was adorned with an abundance of plush companions — stuffed animals nestled in every corner, blankets cascading invitingly over the bed, and an assortment of plump pillows promising restful slumber. To ensure sustenance during moments of retreat, a compact mini-fridge stood at the ready, stocked with refreshments to satiate any craving.

As Grian surveyed the tranquil refuge they had meticulously crafted, a sense of contentment washed over him. It was a space perfectly tailored to his needs, a haven where the chaos of reality could be momentarily set aside. Standing amidst the comforts of his Safe Room, he couldn't help but entertain the thought of making it his permanent abode — a retreat from the tumultuous outside world. Yet, as enticing as the idea was, he knew its purpose was for moments when reality became too overwhelming, serving as a gentle reminder that solace could always be found within its walls.

"How would you know if I’m in here or not?” Grian asked, his voice tinged with curiosity as he glanced around the room. Mumbo, with a knowing smile, pointed towards the floor where a solitary redstone lamp stood, its gentle glow illuminating the floor in front of the door. "When anyone is in there, that redstone lamp will be on," he explained, his tone carrying a hint of pride in his clever contraption.

Grian's expression softened as he absorbed the simplicity yet effectiveness of Mumbo's invention. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around his friend, genuine gratitude evident in his gesture. "Thank you," he murmured, the words carrying a weight of appreciation for Mumbo's thoughtfulness.

Mumbo returned the embrace, the warmth of their friendship enveloping them both. "Anytime," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. In that moment.

"One more thing," Mumbo began, his voice carrying a note of finality, "Your communicator will remain silent within those walls, except for any messages directed solely to you. And if you need my assistance with anything, just send me a message."

The words hung in the air between them, a weighty silence punctuated only by the subtle rustle of feathers as Mumbo and Grian exchanged a prolonged gaze. Then, as if suddenly awakening from a reverie, Mumbo's eyes widened, and he coughed awkwardly, his cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment. He shifted his gaze, a nervous smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Umm… well," he stammered, his voice betraying his discomfort, "Have a good day." With a clumsy gesture, Mumbo turned away, his wings unfolding hesitantly as he prepared to depart. "See you later," he added hastily, his words trailing off as he launched himself into the air, leaving Grian behind.

Watching Mumbo's hasty retreat, Grian couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself. With a casual flap of his own wings, he soared back towards his own base, the memory of their awkward exchange lingering in his thoughts like a playful breeze.

#safe space au #hermitblr #hermitcraft fanfic #hermitfic #grian #mumbo jumbo

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redorich · 3 years

Text

to those who carried on

A fic for @petrichormeraki and their Hermit!Tommy AU.

-------

The hermits know Tommy as a quiet young man who is very sad and contemplative. The more time they spend with him (against his will, but they know he needs the company) the more they learn of the little details. His favorite block is cobblestone, he likes building towers, and apparently his favorite woman is the Queen. They don’t ask why he wears a smiley mask even though he never seems happy. They don’t ask why he hides important things in his ender chest. They don’t ask why he wears a shattered compass on a chain about his neck.

(Once, he died in lava and lost his absolute mind. He was so upset about the compass that he didn’t even mention the stack and a half of diamond ore he had on him. Xisuma ended up manually rolling back the server just so Tommy could have it back.)

As time goes on, the tremors in Tommy's hands grow lesser. His dull blond hair seems a bit brighter, his bruises fade quicker, he doesn’t look quite so skinny-- he spends his time serenely building, resource gathering instead of running and fighting. He has a sense of humor under all that trauma, which the hermits unfortunately find out after another massive-scale prank war thought to be instigated by Grian actually turns out to be Tommy's fault.

Tommy starts swearing more. Doc gets the stink eye from Stress for this, but Doc insists he’s never once sworn around the young man. (That’s an absolute lie, but it wasn’t anything Tommy hadn’t heard before. Tommy thinks Doc is remarkably unoriginal in his cursing. He does take note of the German ones, though.)

Inviting Tommy to PvP minigames can be touchy, they learn. He likes to fight, but he fights like an animal with nothing to lose. Grian once chanted, “It stays in the pit!” and everyone present had to spend the next five minutes wrangling Tommy’s soul back into his body from wherever it’d floated off to.

Tommy likes to glide with his elytra. He claims he’s never had one before, but he flies like such a natural that a few people have their doubts. On a dark desert night, with dark blue eyes watching the night sky, he confides to Cub that it reminds him of the way his dad used to fly. He hates rockets, though. He does not confide to Cub that it reminds him of what his brother did to his best friend. He says enough that Cub can guess, though.

Scar gets fed up with Tommy’s creeper holes and makes Tommy help him fix them. At first, Tommy has no clue why Scar is breaking out things like coarse dirt and birch leaves and making the ground all fancy, but he’s not afraid of a little hard work and Scar makes it fun. He learns a lot about terraforming that day, and awkwardly comes back a few days later asking if Scar needs any more help terraforming. Tommy still hasn’t built a real base, not by Hermitcraft standards, but the small hill he’s built his dirt hut near now has a very beautiful, if amateurish, waterfall. He doesn’t tell Scar about this, but Scar finds out anyway. Tommy wakes up one morning to find that someone has left a shulker box in his house. Instead of iron-gripped paranoia, he just feels wonder that someone would give him a gift-- to the hermits, a single shulker box is nothing. To Tommy, it’s everything.

The shulker box contains coarse dirt, birch leaves, and a silk touch shovel.

Tommy helps Xisuma mine a giant hole in the ground near bedrock, because he realizes that he’s never thanked the admin for getting him his compass back. Well, that and the fact that instamining with a haste two beacon and an efficiency five pickaxe is a novelty. Xisuma lets him keep the cobble, since everyone knows it’s Tommy’s favorite block, but also insists he keep some of the other blocks like andesite and diorite. He pats Tommy on the head and tells him to talk to Bdubs about building a house some time. Tommy nods. He's taken aback by how tall Xisuma is, completely contrasting his mild nature. He reminds Tommy of Wilbur, on one of his good days before... Before. Not Ghostbur, though-- the admin is much too alive.

Tommy waits too long, so eventually Bdubs comes to him. The man is silly and outrageous, playing everything for laughs and unexpectedly tender. Bdubs plays up how beautiful he thinks Tommy’s hideous dirt shack is, then offers to help him build a house that’s better. For Tommy, building a house means settling down, accepting that this is his home now. Bdubs doesn’t know this. Tommy builds cobblestone dicks while Bdubs tries to lecture him about depth and block variation. Nothing gets done and Bdubs feels like he might have failed, but come next week Bdubs is flying over the area and sees the dicks are gone; so is the dirt house. In its place is a spruce-and-cobble cottage nestled near the tiny waterfall. Off to the side, he’s made a cozy doghouse for his fox, Theo. Bdubs doesn’t know how close that fox came to being named Fundy.

He spars with False, and she very pointedly does not mention how his stances are uniquely suited to a piglin. There’s only one renowned fighter who’s a piglin, after all. It's Tommy’s story to tell, if he ever does, why he’s seen enough of the legendary Technoblade’s fights to pick up on his stances, yet he’s not experienced enough to know that they don’t suit him. Instead, False gives him different stances suited more for tall, skinny people like the two of them. She’s got blond hair and blue eyes just like him. (Not that she’d know. She’s never seen his eyes, hidden behind his mask as they are.) Every now and then, he imagines her as an older sister, and the one time he says so, she smiles. When Tommy’s at home, looking at his own distorted reflection in his waterfall (he’s improved it since he built it), he muses that their eyes aren’t the same, their hair colors are subtly off. It’s close enough, he thinks.

Stress dies from fall damage and Tommy goes out of his way to pick up her stuff, because the hermits do these things out of the kindness of their hearts. The thought never even crosses their minds to steal. It crosses his mind. He doesn’t do it. Stealing from Stress would be like stealing from Niki.

He shows up at Cleo’s base unannounced and demands to see the “cool shit”. He is appropriately enthused by the giant armor-stand-bugs. She tries teaching him her armor stand magic, but it doesn’t really sink in. It’s okay, she assures him, most people don’t have the knack for it. He does, however, learn that buttons make excellent decorations. He also learns how to braid hair, bribed by ice cream. He is terrible at it, to the point where Joe has to come by to help the two untangle her hair so Tommy can start again. Watching the two bicker over capitalism and six million armor stands and a whole host of other inside jokes he doesn’t get, he thinks he’s starting to understand what friendship is supposed to be like. Joe and Cleo don’t see him clutching his compass. He and Tubbo weren’t too far off from this, given their circumstances. Maybe...

Maybe Tubbo can be forgiven.

Tommy makes minigames of his own, ones that don’t just kill you and steal your stuff. He builds things that are pretty instead of just functional, brews potions with Stress and only calls them drugs once (again, upsetting her is like upsetting Niki. Best not done), and sets up chicken bombs above people’s bases instead of just lavacasting them. (As Grian saw the hundreds of chickens slowly raining down upon his mansion, he got such a peculiar look on his face that Tommy feared he’d fucked up. The shorter, stronger (much stronger oh god why is he so strong despite being so small) man nearly crushed Tommy’s lungs in a hug, proclaiming how proud he was of Tommy. Tommy was proud of himself for not accidentally murdering Grian out of reflex. Was this what healing was like?)

Yes. It is what healing is like. Tommy knows this because that wound gets ripped open again. Tango shows him how to build the most obnoxious redstone-powered noise machine the two can think of. Tango digs a small pit, and asks Tommy to throw down his axe. Suddenly, Tommy’s in Logstedshire again; it’s not Tango asking, it’s Dream. His hands don’t shake when he tosses his axe into the pit, followed by his sword and his armor. It isn't until he’s placed the TNT down that Tango grabs his wrist and asks him what he’s doing. Tommy’s eyes clear enough that he can see past the blond hair and freckles. Tango isn’t green, he’s red. He's shorter than Dream, and his worried eyes are unhidden. Tommy shudders, then tells Tango everything.

Tango has no pity for Tommy, just understanding and sympathy. He doesn’t push Tommy to talk about it, but when Tommy’s done telling his story, Impulse and Zedaph show up. They all pretend that Tommy’s voice isn’t hoarse, that they all didn’t conveniently happen to look away when Tommy took off his mask just long enough to wipe his eyes. The men bake a cake together, fool around with honey blocks, and don’t talk about it.

Tommy knows very little about redstone, considers himself more of a builder and a fighter than an engineer. Still, Mumbo’s living base is inspiring, and Tommy often hangs around the man’s industrial district just to watch Mumbo work. Mumbo knows that Tommy hasn’t purchased a day pass, but it’s nice having someone around to talk to while he works. It’s not like Tommy is stealing anything. (Tommy totally steals from Mumbo’s industrial district storage system. The man’s farms are so efficient that he doesn’t even notice, so Tommy assumes it’s fine. What Mumbo doesn’t know won’t hurt him.)

Lava still isn’t his favorite thing in the world. He stays far away from it, instead of imagining what it would be like to hurtle towards it. Ren doesn’t really notice this, but he does notice that Tommy doesn’t seem to like his mustafarian base. On a spur-of-the-moment whim, Ren whips up some absurd plotline in which he is a lone weary traveller seeking refuge at Tommy’s base from strange alien overlords. The two have fun together, and the young man cracks more absurd jokes about it than the hermits have ever seen him do. When Ren leaves a week later to return to his own base, Tommy keeps being absurd, if a bit more subdued without someone to play off of. He builds a shrine to the “prime log”, which grows more elaborate each day. Beef and xB pretend to be his acolytes, despite having no clue what a “twitch prime” is.

They can’t see his face, but the smile in his voice is a far cry from the despondency he once wore like a heavy cloak. He is so much more animated and alive, full of motivation. He builds an entire island in three days, and hand-delivers an invitation to each and every hermit for his beach party. Everyone shows up, even those with packed schedules (Iskall) and those with introverted tendencies (Etho). Tommy is nearly moved to tears when they show up in groups of twos and threes, as though he hadn’t expected anyone to come. There aren’t enough chairs for everyone, but there is more than enough cake to go around. Tango brings drinks, Impulse brings meat to barbecue, and Zedaph makes an elaborate jump-powered grill. Keralis brings way too much confetti and several handfuls of cheap, obnoxious party noisemakers. Stress brings Tommy a crown made out of alliums. It shines far less than his brother’s gold crown, and it’ll die in a few days, but he wears it all night and keeps it in his ender chest until it withers away.

He spends five days teaching himself to make flower crowns. Even his best attempt is awful, nowhere near as pretty as the crowns Stress makes, but when he gives it to her, she takes off the one she was wearing and wears his until it falls apart.

He dies fighting a creeper on Grian’s behalf, and doesn’t even panic, because he trusts that however many times he dies, no matter how stupid or ignominious or revolutionary or important, Xisuma will always let him respawn.

He spends a grand total of nine diamonds to buy a single plot of land in the shopping district. He builds a cute little bench facing the sunset, with warmly glowing street lights on either side and a small garden. At the end of the bench he places a jukebox, and buys every single disc that Beef’s music shop sells, including Pigstep. He sits on the bench while Mellohi plays and watches the tiny silhouettes of his friends flying in the evening sky. Tommy looks alone on that bench, even if he seems happy, so sometimes other people stop by to sit with him. Scar declares the bench area a public park, since everyone likes it so much, and refunds Tommy his nine diamonds straight from the throne.

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hermitcrossovers · 2 years

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Swap!Au: Of all the gods and dieties on the Hermitcraft server, who brings them to the SMP? Who hears a desperate cry for help, that finally gets answered? The truth was, nobody from Hermitcraft answered the call, neither did XD or Clara. Somewhere a man(?) with blue hair watches, listens, and answers the prayers, sends help, fixes a server rather than having a monthly refuge where everything is safe, after all Grian "was only meant to watch" -🌾

watches he shall, after all he does his best from afar while grian does his best up close in the action

#hermitcraft #dream smp #swap!au #rice anon #i think you are talking about taurtis? right #grian

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indigo-flightly-falls · 10 months

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Watcher's Clutch AU - basic info

Soooooo... this is a mcyt X httyd crossover AU! (it's the 3rd of my mcytXhttyd AUs lol, more on those later)

It's vaguely inspired by the fanfics The Orphan's Ballade and The Hermit's Refuge, which are fanfics for the dsmp and hermitcraft fandoms respectively and feature one character adopting all the others. So uh, yeah. The basic idea is from those, go check them out they're fun to read.

In this AU, it's mostly about the Watchers/Listeners (and a few others), as they get adopted by a stray Watcher who is the protector of children. It all starts when a kid winds up on her doorstep at night, covered in blood (some of it not his own), and begging to be killed. That night, the Watcher takes him in, and slowly starts to draw more kids into the mix.

Under the cut is the details about who are the stray children adopted, and what dragon hybrid they are! I won't go into backstory details because I actually want to write this soon. With in two months at least. Maybe. Don't hold me to it.

Grian - sentinel If you don't know what sentinel dragons are, you probably won't understand why this works so well. It's because sentinels in httyd exist to watch over a dragon graveyard. What better dragon for Grian? On top of that, this adds an interesting idea, because sentinels are blind. So hybrids would probably be born with vision problems or develop them during childhood. So the idea that Grian, even as a teenager, still has relatively good eyesight despite being a species that would've lost it at that point is rather interesting!

Etho - whispering death/sand wraith Weirdly fucked up mouth. That's my main reasoning. Try to put a whispering death mouth on a human. It would looked really fucked up. Idk I almost went with changewing but figured whispering death was a better choice for a hybrid. No I will not explain why he's a hybrid of two dragons <3

Exion (Evil Xisuma) - night fury This one will make zero sense unless you've read my helsmit headcanons post so I'll sum up why I chose this: I headcanon Ex and X to be two of the last voidwalkers, similar to night furies in httyd. Main reasoning tbh.

Helsknight - singetail Arson chameleon.

Skizz - triple stryke Skizz gets the cool scorpion dragon. Also because the only triple stryke we see in canon gives off 3rd Life!Skizz vibes. No I will not explain Sluther could be Skizz and nothing would change.

Chicken - thornridge This one will also not make sense unless you've read the helsmit heacanons post (also included in this category are Echo, 13, Adubs & Grain) But basically Chicken is one of the most peaceful helsmits, and I though he'd fit a thornridge!

Adubs - prickleboggle Funky dragon that casts healing fireballs. Idk I just wanted something vaguely plant themed for this guy.

Grain - dramillion Parrot dragon parrot dragon parrot dragon- Basically the dramillion can mimic any blast it sees, and I thought that it would be cool if hybrids could also mimic voices!

BigB - speed stinger Don't blink or he will zip past you can suddenly you can't move. I like the raptor dragons alright :) He could also be a dreadstrider, which is a hybrid between a speed stinger and a flightmare, but I like basic speed stinger for now!

Echoslab - egg biter Honestly it is simply the vibes

Martyn - slithersong Listen, this dragon lures it prey in by singing. And Martyn is widely regarded as a Listener in headcanons. It's perfect.

Jimmy - razorwhip A) Jimmy is a toy would work great with the dragon that looks like it's made of metal B) Jimmy can have poisonous tears and breath for fun :)

Scott - snow wraith I am channeling Empires season 1 for this. Es1!Scott is so snow wraith coded.

Bad - flightmare Idk he's Scar's counterpart and sibling. Don't know what else you need

Xornoth - deathgripper Xornoth is so deathgripper coded. I am correct about this btw. I'm thinking Exor is like Grimmel and basically drugged deathgripper hybrids to use for his own purposes, and Xornoth is one of the few who escaped!

13 - sword stealer Metal dragons that steals stuff and looks scary :)

Joel - small shadow Small shadows are the wolves of the dragon world alright. Also I think it'd be cool of Joel just goes missing for days at a time and nobody's really worried because he can fight when he needs to, and the entire time he's building a small shadow pack!

Ren - scuttleclaw Again, vibes. Scuttleclaw's have dog vibes and it is Rendog.

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Anyways, those are the main children, with others appearing in cameos or backgrounds. Pearl, Joe, and Keralis have all been excluded from this group despite being Watchers (in my headcanons at least), due to possibly having different roles in this AU.

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@kamishirosss here's the tag! Sorry this took so long, I got busy-

#mcyt x httyd au #trafficblr #hermitblr #watcher's clutch AU

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