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hanahaki-disease · 3 months

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Haven’t I Given Enough?

A HC x DSMP Hermit!Tommy xover

Chapter 15 | I’ll Never Die When I’m Dead

Summary: History was hard, it brought up all the trauma and memories Grian tried for so long to push down, but Tommy needs to know. It was essential he knows.

Notes: Chapter title “Control” by Halsey

Word count: 2665

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The inside of the shrine remained the same as it had been the day Tommy built it. The moss was still soft and plush, albeit a bit damp from the water fountains, and the glow berries hadn’t molded or fallen off. Some of the spore blossoms above them had closed, making the small area less polluted with harmless floating fungi. Nothing had changed; everything was still as it had been, yet it was different.

Prime–Irene didn’t give off the same vibes as she once did for Tommy. Knowing what he does now, it seemed rude to his mother to keep worshiping her the way he used to. Her marbley-ness now gave off an air of dread. She knows something, and she refuses to share; except for Pearl, who has no control over what she sees. Bound to view the horrors and pain of days yet to come.

“I haven’t yet told you that you did a good job here, have I?” Grian said from behind him. The wings on his back were pressed as close to his body as he could get them. The room wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big either, and Grian’s Tawny wings could’ve easily reached from one wall to the next if he stretched them out enough.

“No.” Tommy made his way to one of the benches, it was pushed to the side during the whole situation a few days ago when they found out Grian was a watcher.

“Well, you did a good job,” He said, his eyes never once meeting Tommy’s, as he was trying to avoid the look the younger had. “What do you remember about Evo?”

There wasn’t much to remember if Tommy was being honest. His memory of those days was hazy at best and the only thing he does remember was traumatic enough that it shaped his future development of creating new bonds with people. And the bits that weren’t too bad, weren’t solid enough in his head for him to remember what it looked like, just how it felt.

“Not a lot really,” Tommy said. “Just kinda the vibes being chill n’ shit. The only fuckin’ thing I remember is when you and my mum got abducted by some blanket-lookin’ bitch.”

“You’re right about them being a bitch, I’ll tell you that,” Grian chuckled. “Back on Evo, a small group of players was chosen to be a part of a server that would update if all the criteria were met. They would have to find the portal that was hidden in their world, solve the riddles left for them, and complete whatever task was needed of them to advance their world. And at first, it was pretty fun.

“We didn’t know much of the watchers back then, only that they were the ones who had selected us and brought us to the server, but eventually I found out that the server was just a big contest to see which of us was worthy enough to “ascend to a higher plane to existence among the void,” or whatever bullshit they spouted back then.” Tommy watched as Grian plucked flower petals as he spoke. Small little white leaves piled onto the floor as he stared off into nothing, his mind gone from the present, trapped in the past. “When I offered you and your mum a place to stay on Evo, I didn’t know what the watchers wanted, just that it wasn’t fair to you both that I had a home and you didn’t. And…I didn’t realize until after we were taken, that I basically gave them two new contestants in their little game.”

The flower in his hand crumpled beneath his grip. The center twisted into an uncomfortable position before falling limp when Grian opened his hand. “I don’t know if you remember this, but do you remember when we were going to fight the ender dragon, and Netty had to babysit you because she didn’t want to leave you alone?”

Tommy shook his head.

“Well, when we went into the portal, three things happened at the same time,” Grian said. “Your mum and I were teleported to two identical copies of the end. We were separated from the rest of the group to fight the ender dragon alone, and if we won…”

“You were worthy to become watchers,” Tommy finished for him. “That’s why they came and took you and mum away, innit? And why they tried to burn down the server. They wanted all traces of what happened gone so no one would look, huh?”

Grian nodded, the sound of their voice after he defeated the ender dragon still wracked his bones when he thought about it too hard. It was the kind of booming speech that, under the right circumstances, could’ve brought a world together for war. That commanded players and mobs of all kinds to obey and submit before them, hell knows it forced Grian to his knees from sheer terror. It was the same terror that killed him all those years ago, his blood staining the floor and wings.

“Time does not apply to Watchers the same way it does to players.” He said. There was a little voice inside his head that begged Grian not to continue, to stop telling Tommy about their past, and to have the kid live in hateful obliviousness of what he had done. The little part of him was dressed in green wanted, hoped Tommy still thinks of him as the uncle who once brought him days of laughter.

But the other side, the entity that Grian forced to stay quiet, the one he shoved into a cage and locked up within himself, for fear of what it could do to his new home, urged Grian to speak more. That indifferent, yet sadistic winged demon within him wanted to see the kid tremble before him. Wanted Tommy to run away from their power, in fear, in terror, screaming bloody murder as they continued their mission as a Watcher of Lady Death.

“When a player becomes a watcher, they can travel through time and carry out missions the watchers from the past could not.” Grian stared at his hands. There were calluses on his palms, hardened skin built up over years of extortion, meant to protect him. He wonders if they were there because of the building or because of his sword. “Watchers of the past were lacking in numbers and so when a new watcher is appointed, they are sent to different periods to complete what was asked of them. And so, despite being a watcher for only a few years, I have lived a thousand lifetimes and slaughtered millions.”

Grian couldn’t stand to look at Tommy, afraid of whatever expression the kid wore at the confession. “What do you mean“slaughtered?” You…You’ve killed people?”

“I was their best soldier,” Grian spoke. “I was sent throughout all periods to finish tasks that squadrons of watchers couldn’t. Servers of millions of people, worlds of a few families, all of them, dead by my hands. And at the time, I was too blind to know that what I was doing was wrong.”

“Like fucking hell you didn’t know!? How the fuck does someone kill without fucking knowing, bitch?” Tommy yelled, his anger justified as he demanded answers.

“A dead person’s mind is easily persuaded, Toms,” The older blond answered. “They don’t know what’s right from wrong. They just know what they’re told. Blindly following orders until the memories of their past finally fade and a husk of their person is all that remains. A mindless puppet to be used however they please.”

Finally, Grian looked up to Tommy. Brown eyes met blue in the dim light of the glow berries, and for once, Grian was glad of all those years being indifferent to the screams of the players before him. “I didn’t know Tommy, because I died to become a watcher.”

“What?”

“According to the code of the universe, I am dead. Twelve years ago, Grian died at the hands of the Watchers in the realm of the dead as he tried to become one of them.” There was a haunted look on his face, Grian could tell. It pains him to remember that day. Phantom tears in his back, right where his wings were, ached and made his body tremble as it remembered the traumatic moment of his death. “His blood, like many others before and after, stain the floor as they try to survive the emergence of their wings. He was renamed, reborn, as a being that lived on the outside of reality and between the lines of code that made up our world.

“And for thousands of years, that ghost haunted the living as it killed players by orders of his goddess. The divine blade bestowed upon him was drenched in the blood of the innocent and guilty alike, and for thousands of years, I followed orders blindly. And it’s because of that blind obedience that we’re in this mess to begin with.

“Years ago I was given the order to aid in the execution of a server that was glitched beyond salvation,” Grian spoke. “Mercy wasn’t something a watcher did often, most of the time it was a cold and calculated death directed by beings more powerful than I, but this was ordered by a watcher of Irene. And because of this, we were told to spare the living by bringing them death by our hands and not by the pain that is being glitched.”

“So, you were the one who killed that guy in Welskight’s home?” Tommy asked. It was the first time Grian had heard him speak in a long moment and all he could do was nod.

“Lady Irene’s watchers don’t appear as often as you would think, being servants of the goddess that knows past, present, and future, and all,” he said. “When they do, it’s because a major moment in history is to happen and they are there to oversee it run as precisely as written in the scriptures. The destruction of Wels’s home was bound to happen. There was nothing I could do but follow orders and complete the command that my goddess ordered.”

“But you’re not a watcher now, are you? You stopped being one, right?”

“Yes,” He said. “I had returned to the present one day on a mission to prove myself to our council that my memories of my past had faded and that I was ready to join them as a fully-fledged watcher. I had to kill Jimmy.”

“You didn’t, right? He’s still alive, right? Tell me he’s not fucking dead, Grian!” Tommy said as worry began to seep its way into his head. Made-up moments of Jimmy’s potential last moments sprung up in his mind, the face of a man he once cared for twisted in pain and agony, dying by the hand that was once his best friend.

“I didn’t,” Grian said. “When I got there, a watcher from Irene spoke to me. She said that my actions at that moment could change the scriptures forever and she wanted to know which path I had chosen.” There was a tenseness in his shoulders, an ache in the area where his neck met his shoulder from tightening his wings as close as they could be for who knows how long. He wanted to relax, to let go of this pain that built up in him for centuries, but he didn’t know when he could. Grian’s afraid to finally have peace; that maybe he’s the reason why there are moments when it’s not. Is he the reason why Hermitcraft was on the brink of war, a true war between them? One that could separate the server in half and could harm the people he cares about. “There were creepers behind him, enough that if they went off, Jimmy would surely have died.

“But then he looked to me, not to your mum, not up at the sky, not at the creepers who threatened to blow. He looked at me and asked for help.”

Grian remembers the look on Jimmy’s face when he saved him. Brown eyes scared for his life, staring incredulously at the masked divine-like being, wondering if that was his end too. Tears glinting, heart racing, fate accepting as Xelqua raised his sword to sheath it. It sickened him. This was his best friend before him, terrified of any slight movement he made. Mud and dirt soiled the clothes Jimmy wore in his scramble to escape the creepers, and now Grian.

He hated how Mirina was right that day, how she knew that he was going to betray the watchers, that he was going to spare Jimmy’s life and send him down a rabbit hole of “self-rediscovery.” A journey that led the name Xelqua to be used, not as a name to bring fear, but to bring hope.

“I left the world he was in, I made a portal to who knows where or when,” he said. “I couldn’t bear the look my once-best-friend gave me when I realized that that wasn’t me, that was what the watchers wanted me to be. It took centuries to find myself again, to fully remember what my life was about, who it was that I cared for and fought for. It was during that time that people came to me for help. They wanted me to aid them in finding their home or helping them realize a certain truth about themselves along this “journey of self-discovery,” much like the one I was taking.

“That was how people began to see me as not the watcher who killed for a bullshit higher purpose, but as a being who was once a player that was looking for the same help they were searching for.” Grian leaned back in his chair, his knees aching from how long he was sitting with his arms propped up on his legs. “I was also able to help Welskight when time was beginning to catch up. I led Xisuma to where Wels was, knowing Xisuma had a tendency and a compulsion to help others around him, always been his thing. Eventually, I believed myself ready again to join a server, to try again at a family of sorts and crashed into Hermitcraft a few years ago. Best decision of my life.”

“I’m sorry if that wasn’t the explanation you were hoping for, I probably gave you more questions than answers,” Grian said. “But if you have any, I’ll answer them, fully. No matter how absurd, hurtful, or invasive. You deserve the truth.”

Tommy didn’t say anything, he didn’t have anything to say. Trauma was a bitch, he knew firsthand about it, but he also knew that there is nothing one can do to change fate. This was the path Lady Irene wrote for Grian, for his mother, himself, and all the members of Hermitcraft and he hopes not for the Dream SMP. There was already enough tension in the air from him being here, there was no need for more outsiders and psychopaths.

He stood up from his seat, the pew shuffling from his sudden movement as Tommy made his way across the small room. They didn’t say anything, just sat down next to Grian and gave the man a hug. Hopefully, his silent apology was conveyed. Speaking his remorse and guilt was never something Tommy was good at, always ending up being more hurtful than helpful whenever he tried but hugging? Tommy could do that. It was the one thing he learned from his mother before she left: how to give good hugs. He remembers how warm they were, how safe he felt in his mother’s arms, and Tommy tries his best to reciprocate those same emotions in every hug he gives. And he can tell by the way the tension from Grian fades away, that things between them have finally begun to heal.

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GOD THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPLOAD

Not because it took me forever to write, no, not that, never that. It was because I am so sleep deprived that I almost uploaded chapter 14 AGAIN on here.

When I had noticed I was like “…wait a min” then I was like “…OH NO AO3” because I had foolishly uploaded it there first

Crisis now averted—I hope you like the chapter, comments and critiques are appreciated

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#hermitcraft #hermit!tommy au #dsmp fic #grian #hc x dsmp #watcher! grian #lady irene #watcher!pearlescentmoon #tommyinnit #jimmy solidarity

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hanahaki-disease · 4 months

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cubfan’s swearing clip is honestly so funny because like. the context for that clip is that someone in chat asked why they dont curse on hermitcraft. and he’s cursing as an exaggerated example to demonstrate why it wouldnt be funny or work well in videos. only this ends up having the complete opposite effect as its one of the funniest and perhaps most popular cubfan clips of all time.

he seems to realize he’s just caused a canon event because he proceeds to poke fun at chat to calm down and that “it’s not a big deal” only for xisuma to type NAUGHTY WORDS!!!!! in chat the moment he says this

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hanahaki-disease · 4 months

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Haven’t I Given Enough?

A Hermit! Tommy HC x DSMP xover

Chapter 14 | “How do you owe the World? How do you own Disorder?”

Summary: Tommy doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, to have someone fight for him, but at what cost? Lines had begun to be drawn in the sand by people he barely even knew.

Word count: 2718

Fic notes: Title is from “Toxicity” by System of a Down’s

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“What now?” Tommy asked as they stepped outside the residential tower of Pearl’s base. Beneath his foot, the gravel crunched with every step and the smell of fresh flowers dotted the place eased his nerves. It was a lot of information to learn in a short period, not including learning that his mother was alive or that his uncle and mother were watchers. Tommy felt like he needed time to process everything. To fully grasp the severity of his mother’s past and to try and predict any possible bad endings this world could come to. “Where do we go from here?”

“We go one day at a time,” Pearl answered from beside him, in her hands, she had a small bag of wildflower seeds. Now and then, she would take a bit out of the bag and scatter them along the mossy grass surrounding them, carefully picking the spots she thought could use a bit more detail. “I don’t expect you to act a certain way around me, nor do I expect any form of affection just yet. We’re going at your pace Tommy, don’t think you need to rush things if they make you uncomfortable.” Tommy felt his mother tousled his hair a bit. “I am perfectly fine just talking to you if that’s what you wish.”

Tommy gave a silent nod as they continued the tour of the base. It was incredible, he thought. Everything here was a strange and beautiful kind of foreign that he didn’t understand. Plants that never existed outside the Hermitcraft server sprang to life whenever they got near, some opened their petals from above them, letting their spores float around them and taking root in the ground. If someone had told him that this place was an alien settlement from Jupiter, Tommy would believe it, because it’s pretty hard to believe that his mother was the one to make all of this.

Across the cavern, a shimmering castle of sorts stood high atop the hill. The spires reached into the sky, leaving streaks in the clouds, and the foundations dug into the earth below it. Polished quartz glinted and the prismarine twinkled multicolored in the sun, giving the castle an ethereal kind of vibe. It was beautiful. Right below the castle was a kind of intimidating stronghold of deepslate and Blackstone, the copper brought his attention to the gate at the front.

“That is my friend Impulse’s base,” Pearl said and led him down the winding paths to the matching copper and Blackstone bridge that connected the two sides of the gorge. “He’s doing a whole dwarf thing this season and he’s taking on an ambitious project of excavating the mountain on the inside.”

“It’s not as ambitious as rebuilding a whole new biome from scratch,” Tommy nearly jumped at the sudden voice. Behind him was an average-sized man, a bit on the heavier side but he made it work, dressed in shades of black, dark brown, and yellow. His smile was easy to see in the carefully tended beard that jingled from all his little gold accessories braided in. “Hi, I’m Impulse, you must be Tommy, right? I met up with Scar earlier and he told me about you.”

Tommy shook the dwarf’s hand and gazed in wonder at the tour of the base. “I’m still working on the ceiling, the stone and dirt and stuff are coming down soon, but before that, I need to finish the hole.” Below the center platform, an almost empty hole stretched far into the earth. How long had this taken him? It couldn’t have been years, Tommy thinks, they move every other year or so. “This vine right here takes you up to Gem’s base, I’m also working on a better way to her pace that isn’t crimson vines.”

“Pearl! Pearl!” Flying in from the open gate, a woman–petite and thin with large branching antlers atop her head–stumbled onto the platform out of breath and worried. “I think there are some hermits who think Tommy is a glitched player! We need to talk to Xisuma or something.”

“What?” Tommy looked at the mystery lady.

“I overheard Jevin talk about a meeting to discuss what to do about Tommy,” She looked between the Impulse and Pearl. “We need to do something, gather everyone who knows about you and see if there’s a way to explain the truth to them.”

“We need to tell Doc then,” Tommy spoke up. “I don’t think going to the admin would help, something tells me he’s pretty upset about the lies Uncle G kept from him.” The three adults looked at the teen, each one agreeing with him. “I don’t have a communicator, so one of you is gonna have to tell him.”

Tommy knew that peace wasn’t going to last forever, he of all people should know that, but he didn’t know that trouble had already caught up with him. It wasn’t even an hour ago that he and his mother reunited, and here he was, standing once again in the middle of a potential war. He hopes that no one dies because of him.

–

From the bottom of the perimeter, the rest of the world faded from sight, only the large, imposing walls of the giant square-shaped hole could be seen. The bedrock beneath his feet was cold, even with his shoes on. Tommy could feel the never-ending cold from the void, rippling through the immovable blocks, as if it was trying to break it and swallow him whole. Around him, the walls faded into the familiar white blur that happens when things get too far to see, letting him know how big the giant hole was.

They had chosen the bottom of the perimeter to meet up for a few reasons. One, if they built a secret meeting room in one of the walls, it’d be impossible to see unless you were intentionally looking for it. Two, if they were to stand in the middle, those who were flying above or standing on the edges couldn’t hear them. And three, the Perimeter would be the last place people would look if there was a meeting of some kind.

Tommy looked around at the small group that gathered, each of them was there to protect him, to keep him safe from those they considered friends and family. On a small stage were Doc, Xisuma, Grian, and his mother. The admin wore a different helmet than the other one he’s seen, it was more like a face mask than a helmet. The sides stretched to only the edge of his face where two thick bands wrapped around the back of his head, securing it in place. He seemed tense, Tommy thought, a stark difference from the easy-going, and calm admin he’d come to know. (He’s still wary of him, no matter how comfortable he allows himself to be with him.)

Among the small crowd were the other two “Soup Group” members, as his mother called the trio, Impulse and the ginger woman–whom Tommy now knows her name as Gem. Iskall, Scar, and Stress stood to the left of him. Iskall’s arms were crossed as he listened intently to what the admin and Doc were talking about, Scar held a pen and notebook in his hands, taking down notes he deemed important. And though Tommy wasn’t the best when it came to literature, some words were misspelled and dotted in the paragraphs now and then. Stress kept her hand on his back, rubbing circles in the hopes that it would calm Tommy down. And it was working, but the looming anxiety returned when she stopped and paid attention to Xisuma.

There were even people there that Tommy hadn’t met, but were willing to protect him. One guy was tall, not as tall as Xisuma or Doc, but he still had some height to him. His hair was a pristine shade of white with some bits of light gray dotted in, a navy-colored mask covered the lower half of his face as he listened intently to what Grian was saying. Sometimes he would lower his head and whisper something to the guy next to him. The other man was shorter than the first, but so were a lot of people compared to Stretch, Tommy thought. He wore a green fuzzy cloak that bunched at the floor as if it was too long for him, it wrapped around him and just barely covered the white shirt and dark jeans underneath.

A total of ten people showed up to the meeting. Twelve people were willing to hurt their family if things went bad for a kid they barely knew.

“Unfortunately, we don’t know how many people are a part of them,” Doc said. “We know for sure that Cub and Wels are the ones who started it, how they found out about Tommy, we still don’t know, but we know that they think Tommy is a glitched player. We must assume that they’ll do anything to get him off the server.”

“By ‘do anything’ what are you implying Doc?” The white-haired guy spoke up. “Are you saying that Wels would kill the kid to keep us safe? Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh for both the kid and Wels?”

“Wels would because of how he lost his home world,” Grian answered. “I was there when it happened. A glitched player caused the downfall of his world and he almost died with it. Wels wouldn’t want Hermitcraft to end the same way, and so he’d do whatever he thinks is best to protect us.”

Tommy looked around at the group, how could they all be ready to fight for him? What did the admin promise them upon their victory? Wars had been started for less than what he was worth, Tommy knows that for sure, but what was the gain they would have? It confused the poor kid.

Most of his life had been filled with fighting against an enemy whose values and morals were vastly different than his, and usually, that was enough to justify the fight. Their ideas and promises had fallen through and Tommy was caught on the short end of the stick, forced to pick a side and lead troops against the other side. But here, where the whole server was a family, and corruption between them hadn’t torn them apart, Tommy was placed on one side and forced to fight. To fight for himself. (Which he doesn’t think is a good reason to fight.)

“So what’s the plan?” Iskall asked. It seemed like that was the only question left unanswered in the impromptu meeting of Tommy-Protection-Squad. “Do we wait for them to figure out where Tommy is and fight or?”

Xisuma shook his head, “We need to find out how many people believe in Wels and Cub’s agenda, from there we try to make peace with them by introducing Tommy to them. Hopefully, like that, they’ll see that Tommy isn’t a threat.”

“Hey! I can be a threat if I want to!” Tommy pointed at the admin. “And what if that doesn’t work and they try to kill me, eh? What then?”

“Then we fight,” He answered. “You’re a hermit now Tommy, and hermits protect each other. But as of right now, Tommy cannot be left unattended in case they try to hurt him. I have given you all schedules for when it’s your turn to be with Tommy.” Beside the teen, Stress pulled out her paper, names and times were written in order from breakfast to bedtime. His short time of freedom had come to an end. “I’m sorry that you can’t continue to work on your bases for extended periods now, but just think of this as a way to meet our newest hermit!”

The others around him chuckled and sent amusing glances toward him before they took off in different directions; which left Tommy feeling as if he was nothing but a toy being passed around in school. He understood that it was the best way to keep him safe, to make sure the hermits who wanted to hurt him didn’t get a chance, yet he couldn’t help feeling hurt that Xisuma didn’t ask him if it was alright.

He hadn’t known the admin for long, still wary of him especially now that tensions were high between him and Grian, as well as whatever happened with his helmet to make him use a mask instead. But Tommy believed that Xisuma was a better admin than Dream had been. So far the man had yet to ask him for favors, hadn’t yet asked him to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, but there was still something about him that made Tommy shift in place when he glanced at Grian before he took off.

“Come on, Toms,” Grian hopped off the miniature stage and walked up to him, Pearl beside him. “It seems I have the first watch, you pick where we go.”

“We’re going to church prime.” Nodding his head, Grian grabbed Tommy’s hands and flew him up to the closest nether portal, hoping no one was on the other side when they went through.

–

The sun had begun to set behind them when they left the portal at Stress’s base. Nothing had changed much from when Tommy took up residence in her base, the chest monster was the same as it had been. Shulkers scattered the stone and andesite floors, items left hanging out of the chest and in piles around the wall of storage. Grass had begun to creep its way into the castle, small darts of green cracking through the gray like spiderwebs.

“Stress said you came here through her pond,” Grian asked. The two hadn’t spoken since they left Doc’s perimeter, finding silence better for their awkwardness.

“Yeah,” Tommy led him to it, the two-block deep water feature was as unassuming as ever. Small rocks lined the edges and kept most of the water in the pond and mobs from falling in, at the other end was a little waterfall that trickled softly into the larger body. Little fish took their time to bob and weave through the decorational–and mostly functional–plants that dotted the small area. “Apparently, I had spawned inside the dirt blocks at the bottom of the pond and was drowning when she and Iskall came to help. When they tried to pull me out, they said that there were like magic claws that were trying to pull me back.”

“Magic claws?” Grian stepped closer to the pond. The shorter blond man could feel the lingering magic that had transported Tommy from his other server, it was a cold magic, one he knew all too well. “Whoever did this was a watcher and they did this for a reason.”

“How can you tell?” Tommy asked.

“The magic used here was used by watchers of Lady Death, their magic has like a special signature to them,” Grian explained. “It’s different than Lady Irene’s just slightly, but enough to differentiate the two. But the bigger questions are who and why?”

“Which reminds me!” Tommy pointed to his uncle. “You have some explaining to do! Mum already told me her story, and now I want to know yours, bitch! I have a right to know.”

Sighing, Grian dusted off his pants before looking at his nephew. “Alright. Let’s go inside somewhere before the mobs start spawning.”

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Ok listen…in my defense, I just kept writing and I forgot to actually publish what I was writing. Buuuut on the bright side I have a few chapters already lined up and ready to go, I might upload those soon but who knows!

Thank you so much for reading! Critique and comments are welcome!

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#hermitcraft #hermit!tommy au #dsmp fic #hc x dsmp #grian #tommyinnit #stressmonster101 #docm77 #watcher! grian #pearlescentmoon #hc xisuma #xelqua #impulsesv #geminitay #ethoslab #bdubbleo100

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hanahaki-disease · 4 months

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"tim goes for days at a time without sleep and lives on caffeine" where did this even come from. my man fell asleep in the middle of his gf trying to tell him she cheated on him. he fell asleep on a rooftop out in gotham in the aftermath of him getting the clench and also one time he fell asleep on a ROLLER COASTER. tim drake is not averse to sleeping he LOVES sleeping.

why is everyone so averse to the comedy of this? you know core four have a running tally of "weirdest places we've found rob conked the fuck out". bart found him snoring on the stairs one time, head on one step, feet a few steps down. cassie discovered him snoozing in the gym, sprawled out on the bench press bench in a position that could Not have been comfortable. kon has stumbled upon him curled up against the side of the supercycle (why didn't he just get in the seats and lie down properly? who knows). this guy LOVES to be asleep. he does so much all the time. he's tired. he's eepy. let him eep

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hanahaki-disease · 5 months

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Haven’t I Given Enough?

A hermit Tommy HC x DSMP fic

Chapter 13 | “If These Walls Could Talk”

Summary: There were two ways to confront an issue: to combat it with logic and reason or to let emotions take control and dictate the next step forward.

Notes: Chapter title from “Walls Could Talk” by Halsey

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Gardening was a hobby not many would associate with the towering mass that was the local creeper-cyborg hybrid. Breaking reality as they knew it, creating areas of distortion, perfectly symmetrical craters in the earth––he was known for that. First was the half portal in season 6, then it was the octagon portal in season 8, and now the perimeter, those were feats only Doc could do. But no one had expected him to take up the peaceful serene, and high-maintenance skill, of tomato farming.

Tiling the earth, watering the dirt, weeding out the invading flora, and carefully tending to the sprouting buds was something Doc had come to find he enjoyed. It was complicated in a way that scratched his brain the same way redstone did, but it wouldn’t cause a catastrophe if anything were to go wrong. It was quiet, Doc had come to find as he worked the soil, no one to bother him and ask for him to do impossible tasks. There were no expectations of him, just the tomato plants that sought his attention and care. Here, in the damp soil and bright green leaves of his crops, Doc was able to be gentle, a trait not so easily expressed by the hybrid.

With the sun on his back and cool earth on his hands, Doc was tempted to take a nap. Lie in the slim shades of his hard work and doze off for the rest of the day…however, fate doesn’t seem to agree with his plans.

“Doc!” A faint voice called out, they were flying over, a woman, Doc could tell. He didn’t want to get up though. Hat resting over his face, arm behind his head, he hoped whoever his visitor was would take the hint and leave. “Doc, where are you? It’s important. It’s about Tommy!”

He supposes he should get up, if he slept now, he wouldn’t be able to come sundown. Besides, if it’s about Tommy, then he has to get up. Doc has come to like the kid.

“Over here.” Doc raised his hand, hoping they saw his mechanical arm stand out from the green of the garden.

“Trying to take a nap, eh?” Stress gave his leg a small kick, and watched as Doc lifted his straw hat off his face.

“And I almost succeeded,” He sat up, squinting from the bright sun. “What’s this about Tommy?”

Stress helped him to his feet, “I think some people found out about him before Xisuma determined he wasn’t a glitch.”

They walked into the geometric wonder that was Doc’s house. Sandstone, prismarine, and copper glinted in the sun and radiated a temple of sorts, bright and grand. Inside was nearly empty though, the ceiling was high above them and loomed in a shadow, and the walls were smooth and void of decoration which matched the smooth floor. But in one corner, far to the left of the base where the window had a perfect view of the sun in the mornings over the perimeter and of the garden, Doc had set up the area as a home, complete with a kitchen and everything.

Doc gestured to the empty chairs of the handmade table, hoping Stress would get the hint for her to take a seat as he prepared something for his guest. “Who found out?”

“I know for sure that Cleo, Jevin, and xB know something,” Stress said. “They came over to my base this morning asking questions about anomalies in the server, something about Joe messing around with magic again and wondering if his spells caused anything to go wrong.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Doc placed a tray of fruit between them.

“No, and I would’ve believed them if it didn’t feel so sketchy,” Stress shoved a sweet berry in her mouth. “Oh, those are good.” Wiping her hands and mouth of any residue berry, she continued, “But they kept pestering and trying to inspect the pond, y’know, the one Tommy came out of. And I think Cleo figured out that the pond has something to do with it.”

“Anything else?”

“I think they had a map, they were trying to find something.” A crack of a firework interrupted their conversation overheard. Who it was they didn’t know, but they hoped it was just someone flying over them, but the paranoia to continue the conversation remained. Doc and Stress knew there was a growing tension in the server now; two groups had begun to form, one who knew of Tommy and would do anything to protect him, and one who opposed his presence and wanted him gone. Stress lowered her voice, hoping that if anyone was listening in they would have a hard time hearing, “The only thing other than Iskall and my base in that area is Tommy’s shrine. What if they found it? Would any of the hermits destroy it? That would destroy Tommy.”

“No,” Doc had to wave that thought from Stress’s mind. “None of the hermits would do that, Stress, you know that.”

“I know, but I’m just scared for Tommy,” She fiddled with the corner of the napkin in her hands, worry seeping through her at the thought of the kid getting hurt because of some hermits.

“Me too,” Doc said. “First things first, we need to find out who knows about Tommy. Which hermits know him as just a kid and which know him as a threat of some kind, from there we can try and decipher who saw him first and the leader of this ‘resistance’ of some kind.” Stress nodded along. “After that, I don’t know.”

“I guess we figure that out when we get there, huh,” Stress took a bite of an apple. The sweetness wasn’t something to enjoy anymore in the bitter air of the server now. Who knew when the rising tension would snap? Would it be far away in the future, waiting for the moment that everything seems fine, only for disaster to strike when their guard is down? Or would it happen in the coming days, where friends, once family, fight among one another and loyalties break?

Stress hopes that none of it happens. She hopes it can all cease with a simple explanation, a peaceful exchange of words that would end all the miscommunication that had happened––but Stress is not that naive. She has never been. She knows that there is only one way for this to end, she just hopes Tommy is not on the wrong end of a sword.

“Thanks for letting me tell you this,” Stress said. “I would’ve told Xisuma, but he’s not himself right now.”

“Is he angry?”

“To put it lightly, yeah.”

“I’ll send out a message to the hermits to steer clear,” Doc rubbed a hand over his face, grimacing when he realized he still had dirt on his hands despite washing them multiple times.

“Thanks again, Doc,” Stress stood up from her seat and gave the hybrid a pat on his shoulder as she walked out of his base. Anxiety grew in the pit of her stomach of what was to come, and Stress hoped that the dying tomato plant she saw in the garden wasn’t symbolism of sorts as she flew back to her base.

–

Grian landed on top of the skull of Xisuma’s base. The admin needed an explanation, it was the right thing to do, and Grian knew it. The air was cold on top of the skull, it chilled him to his bones and ruffled through his feathers, his red sweater was useless that high up. Grian believes he deserves the chill. If the guilt wasn’t going to be enough to kill him, maybe hypothermia would.

He had spent most of the night thinking of what he was going to say and how Xisuma was going to react. Every scenario in his head ended up with him being killed and Pearl and Tommy exiled from the server again. Grian would rather have it be him who died instead of those two, though it did leave a twinge of pain in his chest at the thought of Pearl and Tommy being homeless at the hub again. And this time Grian wouldn’t be able to give them a home. He’d be dead.

These past years Grian has been hiding from the truth, and this time he wasn’t going to run away.

The avian remembers that first night he spent in Hermitcraft. Some of Lady Death’s watchers had found him wandering an abandoned world, one that had been burnt down and left to ruin, they tried to take him back. Promises of no punishments or light reprimands fell upon his unbelieving ears; they wanted him to repent for his actions and to beg for forgiveness from Kristin, in hopes that she would accept him back into their ranks. But he didn’t believe it. He knew they were lies. The cuts and running blood along his body from their blades proved their true intentions.

He had escaped their attacks, cold metal ripped through his flesh and left a trail of blood after him, and jumped through the hastily made portal. Grian at the time didn’t know where the portal would spit him out, just hoping that no watchers were on the other side. He ended up landing on an empty island in the middle of an ocean with an island far off in the distance.

The first person to see him, broken and barely able to stand, was Xisuma who had noticed his appearance in the server when he crossed through the portal. X had taken him to his starter base where he had nursed Grian back to somewhat stable health. That night the two of them had spent their time talking about where the avian had come from. Xisuma had told him how Hermitcraft was a haven for people and how–if he wanted–Grian could stay with them.

Grian had been greedy those days. He had taken too much of their kindness for granted back then, ungrateful for all the hermits had given him. Grian could only savor the last bits of whatever was left now, if there was any.

“Oh, Grian,” The avian opened his eyes to see the hermit landing beside him. His hair had been fluffed by the flight over and his lab coat disheveled from days of being worn. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hey, Cub,” Grian lifted his head off of his knees, the ache between his shoulder blades arising. “Yeah, I just need to talk to X about something.”

“You seem tense about it,” Cub pushed away some of the built-up snow. The admin had tried to place string to prevent it, but he had neither the time nor patience and had just given into the natural weather of the mountain biome. “Did you guys get into an argument or…?”

“Something like that.” Grian wasn’t the type of person to expose what happens behind closed doors to the other hermits, preferring to keep his and the admins’ relationship with each other (when they were in a relationship.) Just the idea of exposing what Xisuma and he would fight, argue, and shout about to someone who had no business in the matter put Grian off. “What about you? Why do you need to see Xisuma?”

“Wels and I have to tell him about a glitched player on the server.” Cub dusted the snow from his leg.

“What?” He had to do a double-take when he said that. A glitched player? On Hermitcraft? Surely he couldn’t be talking about Tommy, right? Hardly anyone has seen the kid and if they did it was because those who know of him trusted the others or Tommy himself had met new hermits.

“Yeah,” Cub answered. “A while ago I saw this kid with Iskall in the shopping district. Iskall was showing him around like it was his first time on the server; but when I checked the world chat, no new players had joined.

“I told Wels about it because, y’know, his server was destroyed by a glitched player so I figured he might be able to notice stuff before anything happens.” Grian hoped Cub couldn’t see the expression on his face, he had always worn his heart on his sleeve. Especially when he was a watcher. “And while we were looking for signs, other hermits like Jev, Cleo, xB, and Tango all said that they too saw the mystery player.”

“Really? They’ve all seen…it?”

“Yeah,” Cub turned to look around them as if what he was going to say was a big secret. “There’s also a mystery shrine built between Iskall’s and Stress’s base, someone named ‘Tommy.’ We think that’s the mystery player.”

“That’s why you want to see Xisuma?” Grian asked. “ You want, like, confirmation that someone has entered the server and you’re not all going crazy?”

“That,” Cub said. “And to kick him from the server before anything bad happens. We–especially Wels–don’t want a glitched player to run rampant on the world, all of us are tired from running. It’s not fair.”

“I guess you’re right.” He’s right, it wasn’t fair. Not fair for Tommy. Not fair for Xisuma. Not fair for any of the hermits. “I’ll…I’ll catch you later Cub.”

“Wait, I thought you needed to talk to Xisuma?”

Grian floated above the skull, “I forgot that I had a thing with Scar today. He wanted me to help him prank Impulse’s nether portal or something.”

A harsh flap of his wings sent Grian into the air. He had to find Xisuma now, not to talk about his problems and to try and mend the fragile state of their relationship. How could he be so selfish in thinking that the only issue was his love life? Tommy was still an anomaly on the server with very few clues as to what brought him to Hermitcraft, and whatever magic or deity decided Tommy was better off here left nothing to investigate. Sure, they could all drown in the one-block shallow water that was Stress’s pond, but they had already found nothing there.

Tommy was in danger, that was his top priority, and his nephew was at risk of being kicked out of a server for the second time in his life. There was no time to waste.

He searched the nearest bases, hoping to find the green-clad admin roaming the locks below. Nothing. Maybe in the shopping district? Cobbled deepslate roads provided no help, and neither did the word chat when he asked. The spawn village was hard to search through, having half of the hermits taking residence on either side of the river. Any signs of life could be a lead as Grian flew through the semi-abandoned builds. Some hermits still slept and lived in their starter homes, finding their mega-bases still too cold and empty, others completely moving into the expanse and spooky feeling of their incomplete homes.

Then–there, in front of Stress’s teapot were signs of activity. A tray of tea, long since warm and fresh to the touch, and scattered snacks. Grian just knew that it had to have been Stress and Xisuma, they were the only two to drink sweet berry tea and Grian could see the orange-colored liquid staining the tumbled tray. He looked out towards the forest that surrounded the starter base. “X! Are you out there?”

Nothing but silence responded to his call, but Grian just knew that Xisuma was out there. And so he followed the faint tug of his stomach through the forest. With the snow to one side of him, and the bay of the Hermissippi river to the other, Grian shivered as he made his way, the admins name falling from his lips every now and then as he searched. The day was quickly turning to night and Grian would rather not have mobs chasing after him as he chased after Xisuma.

“Xisuma! Where are you!” Grian leaned against an oak tree. His hands felt ridges in the bark, small crevices embedded into the wood as if someone hacked away at it without care. Many of the trees around him had that, some were half-chopped, and others only held mild scratches like the one he found. “X, please, it’s about Tommy!”

“Go away,” Xisuma’s voice carried through the wind, his person still lost to Grian.

“No! I won’t, I think Tommy is in trouble!” He ventured further into the woods, the sun had set and mobs began to spawn. Around him, the inhuman groans and rattles of the zombies and skeletons haunted Grian. It was only a matter of time before they spotted him. “Xisuma!”

“Why should I believe anything you say? Huh?” Behind him the admin revealed himself, his doomguy ax brandished in one hand and the other in a tightened fist. He looked menacing, Grian thought, the moon behind him and his shoulders tense with anger. An anger reserved for only him, Grian supposed. “Why should I trust a word you say when everything you’ve said up till now is in question?”

“Because why in Void’s name would I lie about Pearl’s son being in danger?” Grian shot back. “I don’t care what you think of me, right now, okay? Hate me! Loathe me! Kick me out and ban me from Hermitcraft forever, I don’t care! But Tommy is in danger and I will be damned if I do nothing to stop it!” He could see Xisuma hesitate to move from his spot. The words that were building in the man’s head stopped short with every sentence spoken–it was also then that Grian noticed that Xisuma didn’t have his helmet on, it was probably broken, damaged beyond repair because of their screaming match earlier that day. In his eyes, there was a glow Grian had never seen before, a purple too much like his magic and too cold like the void. It sent shivers down his spine to see their gaze hardened on him when they once held adoration and a special type of reverence; Grian was lucky if one day, Xisuma would look at him like he used to, when they were friends. “Wels and Cub are gathering a group that wants to kick Tommy out of Hermitcraft because they think he’s a glitched player, and from what it sounds like, Wels is pretty fucking convinced and I wouldn’t put it past him to go to extreme methods to keep us safe.

“I just don’t want Tommy getting hurt,” Grian deflated. The rising anger towards his (now) ex-boyfriend popped like a balloon, grief and anxiety filling its place at the thought of Tommy being tortured or killed because of him. “Especially since we don’t yet know what brought him here. So, please, Xisuma, Tommy is in trouble.”

Grian felt oh so small as he fell to his knees, tears streaking down his face as he begged for aid. How long had it been since Grian begged for aid, for help to a deity that he knows doesn’t care for him? But here, in the dead of night with monsters surrounding him as he pleaded with the admin he once loved, whose eyes held a purple glow as he stared daggers at him, Grian hoped that mercy was on his side tonight.

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So sorry it took a while to upload, I have a specific set of rules I have for myself to follow to upload chapters, and if I don’t follow them, I can’t update.

I also had huge writers block for this fic for a while. I have a chapter already written but for the longest time, I just couldn’t figure out how it continue from there. Eventually, I did it, and here we are.

Any way, I hope you like it! Let me know what you think and hopefully I’ll update soon

Thank you for reading!

-Hanahaki

#hermit!tommy au #dsmp fic #hc x dsmp #grian #hermitcraft #tommyinnit #stressmonster101 #docm77 #cubfan135

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