ani-craft - Tumblr blog

[ani-craft]

ren saw the raid notif and his entire demeanor shifted, he's like a peacock spreading his wings, ruffling his feathers, the tone of his voice changed, suddenly he's back to calling martyn "marteen", he's fucking lovestruck, he wants to entertain and impress someone he hasn't spoken to since real life smp in front of his friends who saw martyn during the charity stream

[ani-craft]

@treebarkweek Day 7 : blood / sweat / tears

You all remember that one time when Martyn wrote a thing about "what if him and Ren were the last two"?? And I just kinda decided to draw this,,,, you know

Anyways about the story itself, Martyn never stated who would win but I think it would be interesting if it was him (something something The Hand overpowers his King and then feels guilty about it because Ren was the one he swore to protect and he did the exact opposite oops)

But yeah, that's why Martyn looks shocked here when Ren dies because he was almost 100% sure Ren would win given how much he didn't want to fight with his King, but then kinda slashed him with his axe and won---

Okay I'm rambling at this point ghghhghg

Also I didn't forget about day 6 I'll do it soon I'm just a bit sick right now and day 7 was like half finished already so I just did this instead :'>

[ani-craft]

day 48, hair/neck/lips

[ani-craft]

day 48 pt. 2, picnic/garden/strawberries

[ani-craft]

day 48 pt. 3, a tiny treebark? on a walk?

[ani-craft]

Treebark Week – Hair/Picnic

part one (Build/Divine) | part two (Frost) | part three (Sweet) | part four (you are here)

Now that they’d gotten settled, gotten Martyn something to eat, Ren began to notice that Martyn was…far different, than when he last saw him. Scruffier, perhaps. 

His hair was only barely being held back by his headband, and almost rivaling his own in length, along with his stubble. It was, on one hand, concerning–even in the middle of war–if you could call what happened, in those death games ‘war,’ Martyn had taken the time to keep himself presentable, befitting of his position as Hand of the King. Hell, even when they weren’t on the same side, as it were, Martyn still took the time to shave, tame his hair (although it had never had leaves sprouting from it, maybe that was why–?) and get ready for the day.

Without thinking, perhaps harkening back to before, when they had been that close, Ren reached out to adjust Martyn’s headband, leaving Martyn staring at him, his sentence cut off midword. 

“Boss, if something was up, I could’ve fixed it myself,” he joked, his own hand coming up to touch where Ren’s hand had been, as if to minorly correct it himself.

His words left Ren frowning thoughtfully, lips pursed, not quite sure what to make of himself, or of Martyn’s seeming defensiveness, nervousness. 

“You always took care of me,” he said slowly, watching for Martyn’s reaction. “Can’t I care for you, as well?”

Martyn licked his lips, caught off guard, for once (a surprisingly good look for the man), and could only laugh a bit, brush a bit of hair out of his face once again. “And how would you propose to do that, milord?”

Ren eyed his hair again, then his face, his neck. “Let me braid your hair,” he offered. “It appears you’ve forgotten those lessons I gave you, way back when. You look most well unkempt, unsuited for your role, me Hand.”

Martyn let out a rather undignified snort laugh, even as he tried to puff himself up, seem offended. “It’s easier to do on someone else, than myself, firstly–”

Ren waved him off, in what he assumed was a regal fashion. “Nonsense. Turn around, let your king show you how it’s done.”

Rather than fighting, which Ren had honestly expected–maybe a bit of witty banter, which Martyn was known for, Martyn simply…turned around. Tried not to muss the picnic blanket too much as he did, and he undid his headband, let his hair fall into his face, show that it hadn’t been trimmed in at least a few months, which almost made Ren fret.

But he had things to do, and so he moved closer as well, kneeled up so he had a better vantage point as he gently sectioned Martyn’s hair into three parts, combing it out with his fingers. “You’ve been good, though,” he asked, keeping his voice soft, so as to not, for once, get them both started on a sure to be very funny, and very elaborate bit. 

And Martyn, his quick witted Martyn, took a few moments to reply with a simple, “yes,” before lapsing back into silence. His head was tipped back into Ren’s hands, and he seemed to just be..basking, eyes closed as Ren worked. His freckles, hidden before, by the frost, seemed to glimmer in what little sunlight was glancing out of the clouds, and Ren was enraptured, starstruck by this man, this beautiful man, who he knew had walls higher than Dogwarts herself, more fortified than his vault, even, let himself be touched, Ren’s fingers working nimbly through his hair to begin weaving in a simple braid. 

His tail was wagging behind him, surely kicking up some dust onto the blanket, but that didn’t matter, not when he had a job to do, a chance to make up for all the things Martyn had done for him. Not that this one simple thing could, honestly–it would take much more than some pie, or a braid, to make up for Martyn’s protection, even when they weren’t ‘allies,’ in a sense.

Martyn’s hair wasn’t that thick, all things told, and the motions were natural to Ren–so much so that he was done faster than he thought, but not fast enough that Martyn hadn’t fallen half asleep already.

Which made it all the more awkward when he realized that he didn’t really…have anything to finish the braid off with. Using Martyn’s headband just seemed wrong, because he would still need it to keep his bangs out of his face, and any extra hairbands that he would’ve had he forgot in his bedside table. He, Ren reflected, was in quite a predicament. This could only mean one thing.

He awkwardly kept clutching the (soon to fray) braid in one hand, as his other hand grabbed his comm out of his inventory, so he could tap out a message to False.

“False! I require your assistance, please and thank you! It is a matter of most importance! -RD”

He glanced between his comm and Martyn’s back, and he’d be tapping his foot if he weren’t currently kneeling down.

False’s reply wasn’t coming as swiftly as he’d like, but his slow building panic was interrupted by the sound of rockets, which made Martyn jerk awake, nearly dislodging Ren’s hold on his hair.

“What, what is it, Ren,” False called as she landed smoothly, eyebrow raised as she took in the scene. Ren gave her a crooked smile, trying so very hard not to seem disappointed that Martyn had woken up–the bags under his eyes were worrying, and a nap could’ve done him some good, really. 

“Do you, perchance, have a hairband I could steal," Ren said, smiling winningly up at her.

[ani-craft]

Post Master

[ani-craft]

i had to make one for them too

[ani-craft]

treebark week:

day 6 - picnic/garden/strawberries

a personal tour around the royal garden

[ani-craft]

Treebark Week – Build/Divine

part one (you are here) | part two (Frost) | part three (Sweet)

It was lonely. Granted, Martyn knew it would be–single-player worlds tended to be lonely, no matter how many villagers you built near, or how many pre-generated structures the Devs added. But he needed somewhere to hang out when he wasn’t on missions from Doc, and this was far preferable to the void–for one, he had gravity here, and for another, he could actually eat, and feel, if only for a moment, like he was existing.

The thought had come to him on a whim, really; he needed to flex his almost non-existent building skills, and he needed something to keep busy–idle hands, and all that jazz. So, he did what any normal, totally-not-pining person would do:

The material gathering was the hard part–for whatever reason he decided against allowing cheats on this world, which meant if he wanted anything luxurious he had to grab it himself, and it made him, not for the first time, pine for the shopping district he had seen on Hermitcraft. But he was a big boy, he could pull up his big boy trousers and grab the spruce, and the stone, and the colored glass that would take up the bulk of this project.

It was a pity, he reflected, that he wasn’t back on Rats–not just for the company but for the chisel and bits mod, which would’ve made this so much easier. But he persevered, setting down the spruce logs and stripping them, adding them with cobble to form the walls of the building he was constructing. 

Of course, the piece to tie it all together, besides the rough pews, and the banners, was the back wall, composed entirely of glass. (Alright, he had cheated a bit, added in the mod, but what else was he meant to do? Pieces of art on this scale were impossible without it, and so what if it wasn’t Actually fully glass? The back of it was, the bits just added for more texture, really).

He’d gotten rather good at pixel art, which is what the mod allowed for, and so his art was intricately detailed–woods for the fur, diamond for the eyes; gold for the crown, quartz and redstone for the fangs, which were bared not in anger, but in a doggy-grin. 

At one point he’d maybe have been embarrassed by the longing, but it’d been long enough that the ache in his chest was just. Constant, blocking out other emotions. 

Mourning was a hard thing to do, especially for someone who you weren’t quite sure was real, but damned if it didn’t stop Martyn from doing so, settling on the wool and carpet he’d set up near the base of the stained glass mosaic; he mused to himself that he ought to set up a fireplace, perhaps on a side wall, as the weather was only getting colder, glazing over the glass and making it difficult to see outside. 

That made his position near the window perhaps worse than, say, the inside walls, but as it was he was already tinged blue, so it wasn’t like it mattered, when it came down to it.

The red and white banners could serve just as easily as blankets, especially if he bound them together, and he could always drag his bed into the church–because that was what it was, he could admit as much to himself, since no one was around to judge him for it.

He spent more time in here, refining and perfecting his sort of ode to Dogwarts–he had more time to do it, he could finish it, in a way that they couldn’t finish what they started back then, even if it only made him ache more, a phantom pain that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

Which is when an envelope fluttered down–from where, he was never quite sure, but hey, anything to get his mind off of the shitty mood he was surely lulling himself into, and caught it midair (well, it sort of fell into his hand, but what was a little fibbing, if only to yourself?) 

It was unlike any of the previous letters he’d gotten–this wasn’t emblazoned with the MCC logo, nor any animal mascot of a team he’d been on, which was fair, because he hadn’t thought it was late enough in the season for that to have restarted; instead, the wax seal was a simple red, with the letters ‘HC’ stamped into it, and Martyn was perhaps a bit more precious about breaking the seal on this compared to the MCC invitations.

“Huh,” he said, not the first words he’d spoken aloud in a while, because if there was anything he knew how to do, it was talk–to open air, to enemies, to friends– “yeah, alright. If they think I’m stupid enough to turn down a visit, they have another thing coming.”

It meant he had to venture outside, for squid ink, and to deprive a few chickens of their–nest mates? Whatever chickens were called when together, but soon enough he had a rough quill, so he could RSVP for whatever event they were hosting that required him.

He just hoped that maybe Ren’d be there, this time.

[ani-craft]

[ani-craft]

TREEBARK WEEK 2024 DAY 7 - Blood (yt mirror) Song used: Bring Me To Life by Evanescence

[ani-craft]

treebark may seem onesided bc martyn drops all the crumbs but it becomes worse when ren cracks and all of his pent up yearning spils out in heartbreakingly romantic ways.

bc martyn is aware of it. he's aware of the meta. he knows about the baiting. he's laughing along.

but ren is clueless to everything and everyone. he's still lost in the story. martyn's surpassed it. ren's still flipping their old storybook and mourning that there aren't more pages without realising he can just write them in

[ani-craft]

instead of saying "i love you" we say "you bring out the best in me. i miss you. if you're still watching"

[ani-craft]

cannot wait for chilled to play mcc. receiving clips from his stream rn where he is saying he does not know what happens in the event and he has never watched it. "is it parkour? capture the flag? building? i have no idea" he has never even made a tool in minecraft let alone used an elytra. he only just realised it's In Eight Days and he's away for four of those. he is going to do the absolute worst anyone has ever done <3

[ani-craft]

[ani-craft]

etho telling false about third wheeling ren and martyn