#dbhc xisuma

[shepscapades]

I think my current favorite hobby is redrawing little moments from Decked Out streams + episodes as dbhc FGJDFGHK so have a little collection of silly doodles :]

[1-marigold-1]

the boys are finally getting some rest [and some other random dbhc stuff]

dbhc au by @shepscapades , also this drawing is heavily inspired by this post

They are eepy [I mean,,,,, X is sleeping and Doc is just staring at his tea - X will probably make some angry british noises when he wakes up and finds out his tea is cold now--] I started this with intentions to leave it as a sketch oh god

We all love angst but-- let them get some rest and sleep, and tea or coffee okay I'l shut up now--

nahhhh some Eefo

This is so stupid but BDUBS YOUR DOG IS ATTACKING ME

And me as that one meme because this is how it felt when I was writing that long ask [also my sona reveal yippie :D]

[tunastime]

do androids dream of electric sheep?

I am nothing if not a vessel for self-indulgent docsuma, especially @shepscapades's dbhc self-indulgent docsuma. sometimes you fall asleep in the lab, and sometimes your friend feels compelled to make sure you're okay <3

(3964 words)

Doc sometimes slips into daydream.

It’s not unlike him. He’d been doing it for some time now, some fix halfway between awake and Sleep Mode. Not quite his mind palace, but still wedged into predictive processes, still trying to work to replay memories. In quiet moments, more often than not, he finds that it’s easier to slip away, to tuck himself into his work, drafting, or building, or walking thoughtful circles and let the mechanical parts of his mind slip away into calculation.

In those same dreams, he tries to calculate the probability of events with what he has, blocking out the movements of who he knows best, who he may be able to pinpoint. He works in quiet as his mind runs in the background, wondering how conversations may go, how actions could be perceived. He maps what might happen if someone got hurt, or if someone needed help, or if someone fell asleep in the lab. Someone. Just anyone. He tells himself it could be anyone, but he would be lying if he didn’t know who.

It was hard, right—it felt wrong if he didn’t. Something he was designed to do, put to waste because it felt silly to imagine waking his lab partner, his friend, making sure he was alright, helping him. Was it wrong to want to be helpful? Was it wrong to want anything? It feels—it’s silly. Want was such a human word. He’s not sure he can really want at all. The paper in front of him is getting fuzzy around the edges, though, as he forces himself back into his true waking mode, and focuses on the task in front of him, now a line of text in his eyesight.

Doc leans hard on his hand, cupped around the side of his jaw as he studies the plans in front of him. He’s long since set them to memory, easily recalled with the summon of command, but he works out the fine details of the draft in front of him, still unsatisfied with his new creation. He works quietly, mentally mapping the lists of supplies he might need, the time it may take. If he were to concentrate the slightest bit more on the display in the corner of his vision, he might note how late it had gotten. Without any windows down here, the night sky can’t leak in, which means Doc doesn’t know it’s gotten dark until Xisuma starts to yawn or he manages to peek outside. 

He sets his pad down, eyes skimming the surface. Right, and where was X, anyway? The space, ever growing, up, down, sideways, that he used as his lab had gone still and quiet some time ago. Enough for Doc to take note of. Enough to be a little odd, he would assume, even for him, and the behaviors he knows well from Xisuma. Xisuma didn’t just wander off without a word—he was much too narrative for that. Doc sits up, hand falling to the table. 

“X?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. The room stays quiet, aside from the hum of recirculating air and electronics. Doc taps his hand against the table—it was some sort of tic he’d picked up from Ren, a sign of his impatience. He couldn’t shake the habit of mimicking it while he was thinking.

Okay, right. Last time he saw X. He gathers up the recall of the path Xisuma would’ve taken from his side, checking over his work at Doc’s request, and around the lab itself, looping back to a series of benches to work on. Leaning from his spot, he tries to pinpoint the peek of green helmet or shoulder piece. He finds neither in the direct line of sight, though, and slowly, bracing his prosthetic arm on the table, Doc stands. 

It’s a gentle quiet that fills the room, nice and easy and soft to step through as Doc makes his way around the space. Despite having another work bench quite close, Xisuma had a habit of leaving his stuff about, flitting between projects as he saw fit. It was interesting, sometimes, to watch him move around the room—not that Doc had done any of that. He seemed to bounce from point to point, sometimes staying still for hours, unmoving, lost in work. It was in those hours that Doc found himself watching, just for a moment, studying the shallow curve of his nose and the way his hair fell into his face from behind his helmet. 

His office is here, too. Though it’s no different than any other working space in terms of equipment, the space itself is fully outfitted, lined with tools and a large work table, his computer, a desk with a chair. Through the glass, he can see the shape of Xisuma at his desk, likely too caught up in whatever he had been working on to notice Doc’s concern. Doc pauses as he slides open the door, standing in the doorway, announcing himself to the cluttered room.

“Xisuma,” Doc starts. “I know it’s late, if you want to head home, I’m sure I can finish…”

Xisuma is slumped over on  his desk as Doc enters. There’s a brief moment, no more than a second, where Doc’s mind spins a scenario hard and fast, the crumpled shape of Xisuma over his desk. But he can see the slow rise and fall of his shoulders. He registers the slow, steady heartbeat in Xisuma’s chest, and his shoulders sag with relief. He stands in the doorway for a moment. Xisuma looks small, head pillowed on his arms. He’s still running a series of code on the console next to him, which illuminates the back of his head in pale lines of data. His hair falls half loose across his shoulder, like he’d forgotten to finish tying it away from his face, and the slow, deep breaths make it seem like he’d been sleeping here a lot longer than Doc realized. He’s without his helmet, too, which sits beside him on the desk, discarded.

Long enough to get a sore neck and complain about his upper back hurting. Long enough to worry that he might not be getting enough oxygen. Doc sets his shoulders. There’s something in his chest that feels like it skips—regulator, pump, or otherwise. They work in tandem to produce whatever fluttery feeling invades the space where his ribs should be. He presses the heel of his synthetic hand against the depression of his chest, rolling his wrist. The feeling fades for a moment, shuddering through his wrists like it might rest there. He was never going to get used to it, was he?

He steps into the lab proper, sticking his hands into his pockets. He picks his way around the room, trying to walk quietly around it. Xisuma stays asleep, shoulders rising and falling in that even tempo. Doc crouches beside him—Xisuma is properly slumped, back curved forward as he rests. What little Doc can see of his face is soft with sleep, eyelids fluttering just so. When X doesn’t move, he rests his palm over the curve of his shoulder, gentle and slow. He tries not to focus on the fact that so much of his face is exposed to him, aside from just his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He’s seen him before, briefly, every so often, but it was so different watching him now, calm and comfortable. Doc forces himself to focus.

“Xisuma,” he says, voice dipping low and quiet. He runs his hand over the part of his shoulderblade he can reach. He pats the high of his back. “Xisuma, hey…”

X takes a long breath in, making a squeaky sort of sound high in his chest. Doc feels him hum out from under his hand.

“Doc,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest. It was a tired sort of rumble, just on the edge of being rough with sleep, just enough to bring that feeling back to Doc’s internal components, like thirium was sludging too quick too warm through him. He huffs a little breath, a sound caught in his throat.

“You fell asleep at your desk, X,” Doc says, not able to weasel the amusement out of his voice. He runs his hand over his back again, just to see Xisuma’s eyes open tiredly, and shut again. It was so unlike the version of him that he knew in his mind, seeing him savor the brief contact, even from Doc. Especially from Doc. Xisuma was always the one reaching out for him, repairing or correcting or studying. All with purpose. There was no lingering touch between them. And though this had its purpose too, Doc lingered, feeling Xisuma breathe under his hand. 

“Sorry,” X mumbles, finally moving to lift his head, to open his eyes. Doc’s hand slides away as X sits up, over his back and back to Doc’s side. Xisuma blinks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hands. A frown comes between his eyes as he tries to focus the world around him a little clearer. Like it were mimicking the score across his cheek and nose, there’s a fine indent pressed into his cheek. Doc smiles at him, scrunching his nose in a way he’s seen X do a hundred times. 

Xisuma jolts, half reaching for the helmet beside him. If Doc were to really look, he might see the pink-red flush over his cheeks and ears.

“Sorry—I didn’t…”

There he lingers, halfway to reaching. Doc looks away from him, purposefully averting his eyes.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “You have to be comfortable too.”

Xisuma hums, smiling a little, hanging his head as he leaves his hand on the table.

“Hah,” he says, ears still pink. “Right. Sorry, sorry, Doc. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I didn’t know where you had gone off to, so I figured I would come make sure you were okay.”

X nods. Doc watches him twist around, hearing the faint give and pop as his spine adjusts to sitting upright. 

“‘M alright,” he says. Then he laughs a bit—the sound is airy and half in his chest, enough to shake his shoulders but more of a wheeze than anything else. Everything fit so well to the timbre of Xisuma’s voice, it seemed, be it the way he moved about, or the way he laughed, or the way his shoulder sloped or face was shaped. Not that Doc had been looking. Regardless, Xisuma sighs, and smiles back at him.

“Just embarrassed is all,” he manages. “Thanks, Doc. I appreciate you.”

X leans back in his chair. Doc watches him resettle and hum to himself as he gets comfortable against the plush backing. Doc makes a clipped sound, reaches out and moves away again, halfway between shaking him awake and letting him sleep.

“X,” he says. “Would it not be more comfortable if you were sleeping in your spare room?”

Xisuma frowns. 

“Would be,” he says, eyes still closed, mumbling. “It just gets awfully cold in there. ‘N if I’m perfectly comfortable in here, why not stay tha’way?”

It’s almost amusing, the trickle of stubbornness that leaks into the tired slur of Xisuma’s voice. It’s almost endearing. He watches X fold his arms over his chest, armor only partly discarded, watches his face wrinkle as he notices and tries to rearrange himself. Doc smiles, something that he simply can’t help—it feels so right, considering how ridiculous this is. He considers his options and weighs the success rates, the action taking a fraction of a second in time, though the scene plays out in his head in full.

“Because you’ll hurt your back,” Doc says plainly. X frowns, clearly mulling it over. There—that’s one that Doc knows, that face, where X slips into thought and worries the inside of his cheek and works his jaw. Doc raises his eyebrows, as if to question him without saying anything, without Xisuma even looking at him.

“Mhh,” Xisuma huffs. He pulls his knees up. Somehow, he manages to fit himself into his desk chair, curling his tall body over his knees and leaning sideways into the back. Doc hums, makes the approximation of the sound he knows.

“Xisuma,” he says. “I’m not going to let you sleep in that chair, you know. You are being stubborn.”

“M‘kay, okay…” Xisuma wheezes, finally uncurling himself.

It takes him a second. Watching Xisuma stretch and blink awake is like watching him come to life. He stretches up and around, face pulling as he likely unsuccessfully shakes the tension from the line of his spine. As he twists, he freezes, face scrunching all at once as he winces, hand shooting up to cup his neck.

“Ow. Jeez.”

He can see it tight in his shoulders and neck, even as X deflates, looking up at him blearily, still slightly slumped in his chair. His eyes shut again. 

“Xisuma…” Doc says, mouth twisting.

X sighs.

“‘M fine, Doc,” he manages to murmur out. “Just’a sore neck. Mm’exhausted.”

“Sounds like you need a real bed, mm?” Doc replies, setting his hands on his hips. Xisuma peeks at him, one eye opening, and shutting again.

He sees the fraction of a smile lift the corners of X’s mouth.

“Sure, sure…”

Doc looks over Xisuma’s face. With his eyes shut, face softening, hair tumbling over one shoulder, he looks comfortable. It’s as if someone took a brush to his features and smoothed out any hard edge—either that, or the static has leaked back into Doc’s vision. He feels a chug in his chest and his joints as he locks up.

X hasn’t moved. Doc reaches out, tapping his knee. Xisuma huffs, clearly startled from the half-sleep he’d drifted back into.

“Too tired t’stand,” he manages. Doc makes a questioning noise.

“I think you can make it,”

There’s a beat of silence. Xisuma cracks an eye open again, shuts it, furrowing his eyebrows. Doc watches him curiously, mind running through the list of possible scenarios. He’s made it part way when Xisuma says:

“‘M using you t’stand, then.”

And he makes a little, amused heh, before he says:

“That’s fine.”

There’s something he means to say alongside that, but as soon as X’s very warm, very human hand makes contact with the fabric of his lab coat and the cool synthetic of his arm, he loses focus. He should be used to this—the amount of times X has performed his routine maintenance, sweeping his hands over the replaced shoulder joint to check for seams, or made sure the regulator functioned, or backed up personal data, fingers skimming the shallow port at the back of his neck. He should be, but that contact alone sends a prickling-warm jolt up his arm. It feels foreign to let the touch linger. But Xisuma lingers regardless, hand flat against the space where Doc’s left ribs should be. He’s gone from holding, to simply sitting there, arm bent at the elbow, held weakly up. 

“Mrghh…” he complains. Doc taps his elbow, trying to jolt him back awake.

“C’mon, X, you can get up.”

X shakes his head slowly, his hand finding the inner curve of his prosthetic arm, squeezing just once, like he’s remembering it’s there. Then, X leans into him, all at once, slumping into his chest. Doc lets out a wouf in surprise. He holds still, aside from the simulated breath in his chest. After a moment, Xisuma makes a small, tired sound, almost like a laugh.

“Houfh,” he mumbles. “I, mm, don’t…don’t think ‘m gonna make it, Doc.”

“Mhm…” Doc chides. 

Xisuma laughs again, lying still for a moment, voice still heavy with sleep. There’s a moment where he shifts, and there’s a small, painful noise that he makes.

“Ow, mrrgh—ow, okay—” he gripes. Doc’s synthetic hand finds the curve of his shoulder, patting gently.

“Oh, X—just…stay still, mhm?”

“Mm,” Xisuma says tiredly, “Alright.”

As much as he wants to move him, X is still wearing that damn armor.

Doc lets him lean into his chest as he tries to weasel off the bits of armor left over. It’s a struggle, keeping X comfortable and trying not to pull him around awkwardly, while trying to remove his chestplate with one hand. Once the armor pulls away, he resettles him, slowly scoops one hand under his legs. Something about this, about the way Xisuma leaned heavy into him, felt so painfully human he feels it curl up between the wires connecting his regulator to his side fans.

“Ready?” he says, mostly to the top of Xisuma’s head.

“Mmh…” X murmurs.

He hefts him into his arms, settling him against his chest. When Xisuma sighs, it’s profound and heavy and he tucks his face into Doc’s coat. Doc can feel the remnant of heartbeat from where his arm rests behind his back, thudding away behind his ribs. His breathing stays even, though shallow. One of Xisuma’s hands clasps over the back of his neck, keeping him still.

It’s a careful walk to Xisuma’s spare room. Doc is careful not to bump anything, measuring the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he walks. He drifts back to sleep, though, through the lab, through Doc shutting the lights off. He’ll have to come back through to power down their various computers, but for now, the dull white-blue glow illuminates the room. He carries him into the halls and through and to his room. It’s smaller than the room in his base by a sizable margin—just enough for the essentials. X stirs as Doc pauses to flip on the lamp, the light warm and yellow briefly illuminating the room. This can’t be a daydream, now, with the way X sighs and wriggles himself free as Doc pulls back the quilts and lets him down. He sits down with him, and the warm shape that Xisuma makes curls toward him, just a fraction, as he pulls the blankets over him. 

Part of Doc knows that Xisuma won’t remember him carrying him to bed, or making sure he was warm, or keeping the light on so he wasn’t disoriented when he woke. Xisuma sighs, sinking into the pillows, expression relaxed and content. Doc hums.

“That’s better, yeah?” Doc says. He reaches out, instinct, want, desire, something, hammering away in his chest, as he brushes hair from X’s face, tucking it behind his ear. He brushes through the hair close to the base of his neck, across his cheek with his synthetic thumb. His dark hair is fine and soft and it must be a daydream—or it isn’t and he was right, because there have been moments like this in his head. Wondering if Xisuma would let himself succumb to soft comforts. He’s spent his own share of time lying next to him, ignoring the way Xisuma curls up next to him, pretending he himself didn’t move closer when Xisuma lies still. It was this dance that Doc didn’t understand, that he wasn’t sure if he was overthinking. Or overstepping. But Xisuma shifts, pressing his cheek to Doc’s synthetic palm, and Doc suppresses a shudder. It sparks something that could’ve been painful right up his arm and through his chest, bright and warm and staticky. 

Doc hums, smiling to himself. Something like a dull thrum knocks in that space of his pump, pushing itself a little further, a little harder. It was sweet. X trusts him, not only to see him without his armor, but to help him to bed, to help him sleep. But Doc lifts his hand away, feeling that ache, the nervous shudder through his system.

X makes a sound, then, something small, eyes fluttering as Doc pulls away. Doc pauses.

“Mhh,” X manages. Doc swallows—he shouldn’t have to. That’s not something he should have to do, or be able to do, but the action just feels appropriate. It goes right along with sighing and laughing, and as he does it, Xisuma says:

“Thanks,” in a small, soft voice, and, muffled, and slightly slurred with sleep: “Didn’t have’ta stop.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, Xisuma,” Doc says. He can feel his temperature tick up several notches, no doubt a blue flush coming to the high of his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. He laughs, just a bit. “Did I wake you up?”

X sighs, stretching as he does.

“No,” he manages. “No, y’didn’t…”

“Oh,” Doc says. “Were you awake this whole time?”

Xisuma nods slowly. Ah. Ah. Doc dismisses a temperature notification.

“A little.”

“Mm,” Doc hums. “Silly Xisuma.”

Xisuma laughs. The sound is high and a little fuzzy and a bit caught in his throat. His bright eyes blink up at him and shut again as a smile settles on his face. 

“Doc?” he asks. 

“Mhm?”

Xisuma yawns, smothering it with the back of his hand, just barely. He tucks that hand close to his chest, curling up further still under his thick comforter. 

“Could you…could’you do tha’again? The…” Xisuma lifts his hand, miming a brushing motion as he does. Another temperature warning, higher than the last, blips into Doc’s field of vision. It’s immediately dismissed, but he pulls in a breath, quiet, trying to turn it into a soft laugh.

“I can do that,” Doc says gently. Gingerly, he brushes his fingers through X’s hair, sliding back against his head. He combs through, lifting his hand to go back to his forehead, back to cradle his skull. X’s eyes fall closed again.

Doc can tell the moment that Xisuma truly slips into sleep. He lingers in his space, tracing out the base of his skull with his thumb, taking in the sensation of warmth and contact and stimulation, fingers flickering white up to his wrist. He wishes biting down on his tongue would do anything. He wishes that the hollow of his chest didn’t hold a weight that no diagnostic could fix. He felt too awkward and stilted and not nearly gentle enough. But as Xisuma stays asleep, he draws his hand away. He mumbles his good nights as he stands slowly, shutting out the light and wandering from the room. 

He makes his way back into the lab. He replays the memory of Xisuma’s small smile, the fine line of his scar as he’d pressed his face into the pillow, the way he’d relaxed against Doc’s touch. He replays the memory, again, and again. It has to be a daydream. Has to be. There’s no other logical explanation to all of that.

Maybe that would explain the ache in his chest, far too human to be his own.

Doc goes back to work. He sits down at the lab table, spreading his arms as he braces against the white tabletop. He furrows his eyebrows. Something doesn’t feel right, too warm or out of place. He feels gross. Not gross bad, maybe, gross different? Broken? Not broken, maybe. Weird. Wrong. Out of place. It doesn’t make any sense. Or it has, and he’s refusing the obvious answer. Xisuma didn’t ask for any reason. Xisuma asked because he was tired, and tired people do silly things, and silly people are a handful, and Xisuma is a handful—a lovely one. Doc shuts his eyes. His chest hurts. It’s an awful hurt, actually, less painful than it is just weird. He thinks for a moment he might be better off if he left, maybe the weight of whatever lingered in his memory would be better off if he were to take a break from standing in the same spaces. 

He sends Xisuma a message. From his office, he hears his com ping.

Docm77 whispered to you… Xisuma I’m stepping out, sleep well :-)

[horse-head-farms]

@shepscapades ‘s dbhc hypno lives in my head even though he has been drawn only once and as a background character so i was compelled to make my unofficial addition to the au

HYPNO-T120 (later “hypnotizd”) is an android who was built at other hermits’ insistence for Xisuma to stop working himself to death. As such, Hypno is very analytical and very efficient at working with mods/servers/code to share Xisuma’s workload. He also has a lot of programming pertaining to care and sleep, to ensure Xisuma takes frequent breaks and doesn’t forget self-care, and to help with his insomniac tendencies. Whilst initially intended for Xisuma’s aid, Hypno helped others as well

He was later “lent out” to xB on request, so he could have help on a heavily modded server. xB found Hypno fun to be around, albeit incredibly annoying. Hypno would find loopholes in xB’s orders, reply with sarcasm to whatever xB said, and correct him about details very patronisingly. Hypno first began doing this after observing that xB’s overall mood and motivation became better when he had someone to dispute with, and thus as an android whose secondary function is to improve the health of humans, Hypno became slightly antagonistic to xB. Eventually this spiralled into Hypno straight up arguing back or not doing things xB asked him to - deviancy. When xB returned to Hermitcraft and complained about Hypno’s antics, he was very surprised to learn this was not in fact normal android behaviour, and instead a sign that Hypno had deviated and was sapient.

After the reveal, Hypno opted to keep the bandana - considering it a token of his and xB’s friendship - but chose new clothes. xB has still not forgiven him for developing free thought solely to annoy him

[yormp]

Am I the only one who thinks dbhc!Xisuma might also be an android and like… no one else knows? Like Etho couldn’t possibly have gotten that much therium on Suma’s helmet and face for it to be dripping off and down. No? Just me? Bros just lookin a lil’ roboty.

[cassy-universal]

Guys I am so normal about the dbhc au.

[blackbat09]

i'm normal about @shepscapades' dbhc au. and uh. wrote a thing that's very much not canon but equally as much a love letter to everything shep's done. it's xbralis because of course it is.

“Shiswammy, I don’t think - Hm. Is this really necessary?”

[Voice Identified: Hermit Keralis1]

“I mean - maybe not. But, if I’m honest, it’d make me feel a bit better if you did use it?”

[Voice Identified: Administrator xisumavoid]

“It’s just - what does it even do, Shishwam? All this - this redstone and wires and bluey goopy stuff. You keep giving everybody robots this season - like, what am I even gonna use it for?”

“Well, we can just - here. It’s online. Can you hear us, XB?”

[Question: Audio Processor Functionality.]

“Yes.”

“Wonderful! Will you please give Keralis your initialization text?”

“Hi! I’m an XB2000 android. I can carry out basic tasks such as resource gathering and crafting, but my functional specialties are combat and exploration. I’m designed for high-stress environments, like deep oceans and naturally generated structures, and am enchanted with Aqua Affinity and Depth Strider, though I may be upgraded at your discretion.”

“At my discretion? Really, now.”

XB figures now’s as good a time as any to look at the Hermit he’s being given to. He’s been programmed with a knowledge of all this season’s Hermits, as well as the other androids Xisuma has brought to this world, so there aren’t really any surprises in store - but it is the first time he’s actually laid optical units on the man, in the flesh, and he quickly updates the player data from the previous season with the new input he receives as he looks Keralis over.

The Hermit’s wide eyes meet XB’s gaze, and his mouth twists in a smile, leaning his body a few degrees in XB’s direction.

The motion is not a threat - XB’s Hermit cannot register as hostile - so it goes mostly ignored.

“And what are you looking at, prrrincess?”

XB stares at his Hermit for a moment, watching the man’s smile falter and his eyebrows draw together, before Xisuma speaks.

“Oh! He means you, XB - Keralis likes his nicknames, he does.”

And while XB is aware of this already, has a certifiable database of aliases Keralis has given other Hermits, being given a new designation already is -

Well. It makes sense, actually. Keralis has just acquired a nameless android, and model numbers are unwieldy at best for casual address.

[Question: Visual Stimuli.]

“I’m looking at you, Keralis. Your appearance has changed since your documentation was last updated in season seven. My personal files will now match your current physical appearance.”

The furrow in Keralis’ brow smooths, and his smile returns, leaning in closer before he murmurs, “Anytime you want a closer look, princess? All you gotta do is ask.”

“Keralis!” Xisuma’s tone is scolding, but he also seems to be laughing, and Keralis snickers as he pulls away from XB, winking at him as if they’ve shared some sort of secret. He doesn't think they have.

“I’m being good! I’m being good, Shishwam, I promise.”

—

“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful, XB?”

His motions don’t pause or falter as the question registers, the light at his temple flickering as he cycles through his memories - it’s a short search, one XB doesn’t really need to perform, but it’s good to be thorough, for Keralis’ benefit.

“No.”

The man gasps, the sound of a second pick falling silent as Keralis stops in his mining. XB continues - the andesite Keralis requires won’t mine itself, and the vein XB is working away at is still projected to be decently large.

“No?” Keralis repeats, voice raising as he continues, “No? XB! How could this be?”

There’s - emotion, in his tone, that XB decides is best categorized as aghast. In talking to DocM and Xisuma during routine maintenance, he’s been assured that Keralis can be prone to dramatics - that his words and feelings are sometimes not as grand as he projects them to be. But XB doesn’t mind it, really - Keralis being demonstrative with his feelings, even if it pushes the line into exaggeration, makes them easier to react to in a way that pleases his Hermit.

“I mean, before you, I spent all my time with Xisuma and DocM. They must not have felt it was pertinent to tell me,” XB suggests, and Keralis huffs, his pick resuming its rhythm - XB’s answer is satisfactory, then.

“Well I think it’s necessary,” he declares, pauses between his words dragging on a bit longer to catch his breath between speech and exertion. It’s something XB has grown accustomed to; sometimes he’ll need to stop and compose himself even when he’s not working, simply growing too animated and tripping over rapidly-spilling syllables until he’s half-wheezing. “I can’t just - just send you off in the world, not knowing you have beautiful eyes! They’re like the sea, XB. You could drown a man in them.”

Along with his exaggeration, Keralis likes his figures of speech, his simile and metaphors. Technically, XB can sort of grasp what he’s saying - Xisuma has been rather accommodating when it comes to updating his verbal and linguistic processing, trying to make sure he understands what Keralis means beyond the base definitions of the words he says (in whichever language he decides to use that day - his Hermit was rather delighted to discover XB’s fluency in both Polish and Swedish) - but, sometimes, even with everything XB has access to, he still can’t quite parse the why of what Keralis says.

[Eyes: like the sea: blue? Wet? Could drown in them: deep? Dangerous? Negative?]

XB is quiet for a moment longer, watching the steady swing of his own pickax before he offers, “If my appearance is unsatisfactory, you can ask me to change it.”

“XB!” He sounds horrified, and this time the sound of his pick is replaced with the heavy stomp of his boots as he bullies his way into XB’s space, taking his face between work-roughened hands. XB’s arms lower gently to avoid hitting Keralis with his pick, obediently meeting his eyes as the Hermit usually wants, when he holds XB like this. “I would never!”

“But you can,” XB points out. Keralis’ face only folds more, stern frown seeming - almost out of place.

His Hermit usually smiles.

[Software instability.]

“But I won’t, XB. And that’s that. No buts.” He stares back at Keralis for a long moment, committing the serious face to his memory.

XB would rather not have many examples of the expression. Among his top priorities are his Hermit's health and safety, after all, and his happiness is a decent indicator of both.

“Yes, Keralis."

[wren-kitchens]

oops my hand slipped

this is inspired by @shepscapades amazing dbhc au that has consumed my every waking thought and single-handedly gotten me to ship ethubs like there’s no tomorrow. go check her out, she’s rlly cool

anyway this is probably incredibly inaccurate but I absolutely had to write something when I saw it—I ended up writing this in less than a day lmao

“wait- wait, wait, wait.” bdubs stops his pacing and turns to face etho. “how do you sound like that?”

“I- I don’t know!” etho feels oddly exposed, having bdubs’ full attention again. “it- I don’t-“

stress levels 68%

“I don’t know what this is.” etho is panicking. how does he stop looking like he’s panicking? 

“you don’t-“ bdubs has started pacing again. “oh, gosh, x is gonna be so mad if i’ve broken you.” he’s muttering, running his hands through his hair. “it’s gonna be hard enough to hide your eye, how am I-“

bdubs looks up suddenly and rummages through the many pockets in his moss coat. “aha!” he exclaims, pulling out something green and translucent.

etho watches as bdubs moves over to him.

“what-what are you doing?” etho resists the urge to step back as bdubs gets close to his face.

unregistered emotion detected, the warnings flash, thirium pump irregularity detected.

“here, stand still.” bdubs’ tongue is stuck slightly out of his mouth as he stands on tiptoe. he puts the green thing on etho’s ears and nose, and etho realises it’s a pair of sunglasses.

bdubs stands back, then frowns. “well, it’s not perfect.” he mutters to himself.

“what is the point of these?” etho’s face feels hot. 

“coverin’ up the red eye.” bdubs says. “green is a complimentary colour to red, it should make it less obvious.”

new unregistered emotion detected 

“you- is it unsightly?” etho asks, worried, for the first time, about his appearance. “xisuma can-“

“no!” bdubs says quickly. “um, I mean, we don’t have to bother x, do we? besides.. you look nice.” his eyes widen and he looks away. there’s a faint pink on his face.

huh.

“thank you.” etho says, feeling an odd heat in his cheeks. “why don’t you want to talk to xisuma?”

“he, uh. might get mad if he knew I broke you.” bdubs says.

etho frowns. “you didn’t break me.”

“well I was there.” bdubs says. “I should’ve been payin’ more attention.”

“you didn’t break me, though.” etho repeats. “the creeper did. or I did. both.” he pauses. “not you.”

bdubs is still close. he raises a hand and runs a finger down the crack in his cheek. etho shivers.

oh. that’s new.

“dunno.” bdubs says. etho’s face feels like it’s getting hotter. “still feels like I should’a done something. you weren’t supposed to do anything but mine.”

“i’m- i’m sorry.” etho is heavily distracted by the fact that bdubs is cupping his face.  “I didn’t- couldn’t let you die.”

bdubs glances up and jumps backwards. “don’t do that!” he exclaims.

“I- what did I do?” etho asks. he just stood there, didn’t he?

“you were lookin’ at me funny.” bdubs’ face is a deeper pink. “you robots are weird.”

“I was..” etho frowns. “what?”

“you- I don’t know!” bdubs throws his arms up. he’s agitated? “those glasses are supposed to hide your eyes! oh, come here.”

etho makes to walk, but instead bdubs goes to him. 

etho frowns as bdubs takes the green sunglasses off. “why?”

“they weren’t working.” bdubs says. he surveys etho’s face again. 

thirium pump irregularity detected

yes, he��knows, thank you.

“I mean,” bdubs reaches upwards and fiddles with etho’s hair. the warning light flashes more aggressively in the corner of his vision. “it’s not like x is known for getting mad.” 

etho is not listening. it’s a weird feeling, bdubs’ hands in his hair. not bad though—no, not bad at all.

“your face is going blue.” bdubs notes. “what does that mean?”

“uhm. probably just a side effect of the explosion.” etho says. he cringes internally. how does he sound so emotional? he barely said a sentence! 

“it doesn’t, like, hurt or anything?” bdubs says.

“no.” etho says. “feels.. hot.”

“hot, huh?” bdubs says.

“yes.” etho says tentatively. “what does that mean?”

“nothin’.” bdubs says, badly disguising a grin. 

“it has to mean something.” etho says.

“you’re blushing.” bdubs says.

etho puts a hand to his face. “i’m what?”

“blushing.” bdubs says. “it’s what humans do when they’re embarrassed or something.”

“bdubs,” etho says.

“yeah?”

“what’s embarrassed?”

“it’s like..” bdubs frowns. “oh, how’d you describe it? um. it’s like when you do something that’s dumb and you don’t want anyone to see ‘cause they might laugh at you.”

“I haven’t done anything dumb though.” etho says.

“it can be if you think you look silly.” bdubs adds. “like when you were worried about the crack.”

“I.. suppose.” etho says. he was worried about that, but only when bdubs pointed it out.

“anyway, you don’t look silly.” bdubs says, turning around to grab the pickaxe on the floor. “come on, let’s go mining.”

etho hesitates. 

“oh, right.” bdubs moves back over to him and takes his hand. 

etho pulls up his mask again with his free hand and lets bdubs guide him down the cave. he doesn’t, necessarily, need to hold bdubs’ hand. but.. well, it’s nice. 

unregistered emotion detected

that warning light seems to be always flashing when bdubs is involved.

“bdubs.” etho says.

“yeah?”

“there’s another emotion.” he tries. “I don’t know what.”

“well, what’s it feel like?” bdubs asks. 

“like..” etho frowns. “I don’t know how to describe it. something.. warm here.” he puts a hand to his chest.

bdubs looks at him. “yeah?” he says again. his voice is oddly gentle.

“it’s nice.” etho says. “I like it.”

“when do you feel it?” bdubs says. 

etho thinks. “when I realised you weren’t gonna reset me. when you’re patient with me, like how I can’t find my own way and you just hold my hand.”

“I think you’re feeling happiness.” bdubs says. 

“that sounds right.” etho says. “i’m happy when I see you.” he tests the word. then smiles. “yes, that’s it.” 

“you’re sweet.” bdubs says, looking away again. 

“oh.” etho smiles to himself. “so are you.”

“I am not!” bdubs exclaims suddenly. his face is a deep pink.

“you’re very sweet.” etho pushes, grinning. “holding my hand, helping me.”

“i’m not sweet!” bdubs says determinedly. he snatches his hand away from etho, looking embarrassed.

aha, he can figure out emotions! take that!

“aren’t you?” etho steps closer to bdubs teasingly. “what are you then?”

“i’m- i’m big and tough!” bdubs folds his arms. 

“hmm.” etho says, leaning close. “are you sure?”

“you- yes!” bdubs pushes him away, and etho laughs.

“is that why you’re blushing then?” etho says. “‘cause you’re big and tough?”

“I regret teaching you that.” bdubs mutters, pulling up his hood to hide his face.

etho laughs again. “you look very cute.”

bdubs’ breath hitches, and etho worries he’s said something wrong. 

then bdubs yells, “HEY!” and pushes etho again, and etho is reassured.

“well, you do.”

“I don’t look cute, you look cute.” bdubs mumbles.

thirium irregularity detected

unregistered emotion detected

cute, huh? 

[katkat030]

Ooooh what the thing you're writing abt?

You are SO kind and thank you for asking!

I threw those tags out there fully expecting no one to actually poke me about it and I'm really happy you did :)

Mutuals who know me from elsewhere,,, I already put a summary of this under the story time thread so I guess I have no excuses for not making this public

I'm writing a fic based of the DBHC au (Detroit Become Hermitcraft) comics by Shepscapades (if you're not familiar with it, I highly recommend you check out their blog!! I have SUCH brainrot and the storyline and art are so compelling)

DBHC is a Hermitcraft narrative of sorts that makes use of the android mechanics from the video game Detroit Become Human

here (1), here (2) and here (3) is sort of where it all starts (but I highly recommend looking through the DBHC au tag on their profile <- that link's in reverse chronological order btw so you don't have to scroll down first)

Basically, Xisuma designs androids (like Mumbo, Etho, Impulse and Doc) to assign to some of the hermits (Grian, Bdubs, Pearl and Ren to name a few) at some point around season 8 or maybe earlier, and they help with things like building, terraforming and probably resource gathering.

And at first they're androids, like "command me to do this and I will", but then they deviate, sometimes through a traumatic event or just by nature for whatever reason, and become more human, sentient in a way. And after Etho deviates, him and Bdubs start to become very close friends, with feelings attached, but the gist I get is that Etho doesn't entirely know what he's experiencing, and I think Bdubs is... probably in denial.

anyway, I could go on for hours about this but that's the basis of Shepscapade's DBHC au.

I'm writing an incredibly fluffy (and fighting the urge to write angst. but I may include a pinch, we'll see) oneshot about the two of them. Current plans is that they've been planting saplings (Etho was originally designed to help with terraforming and that, after all) and it's late afternoon, so Bdubs being Bdubs is very, very tired.

And tired people are clingy, they let their guard down a bit, they start giving in slightly to things they don't have enough energy to fight.

Like the urge to reach out and go hey, come back, I actually want you to play with my hair, I want you to lie with me in the sunshine, I want to listen to the sound of your android heart (thirium pump) because it's a reassurance that even though my eyes are closed you're still nearby, I want you here, and I'm going to hang on to you because I don't ever want you to leave again.

[echoglitch]

Got bored and wanted to draw dbhc soo yeah @shepscapades

((Did not have my drawing tablet so paper and pencil will have to do))

First we have etho having some sort of crisis

Next we have xisuma being xisuma

And last doc being really confused on what is going on

[shepscapades]

More decked out dbhc doodles based on moments from episodes+streams!! I’ve been doing these as a little break from schoolwork and the larger dbhc comics, so I’ve been having a lot of fun with them =w=

[1-marigold-1]

More dbhc thingies because It's almost 3 am and I still have the brainrot

Yayyyy more dbhc ( AU by @shepscapades ) memes that have questionable quality [spoiler: they are mostly Xisuma related]

As you can see I'm still fixating on this thank you very much I know....

Something something new year new me

Who knew new me would hyperfixate on Detroit Become Human x Hermitcraft AU but here we go I guess.

[tunastime]

TUNA TUNA TUNA TUNA TUN- *trips and falls on my face*

That docsuma fic huh HUH , I absolutely LOVED it you don't even know how hungry I am for those two interacting, especially in dbhc au

You just kinda know when to post these I guess since I've been thinking about dbhc docsuma lately and this fic saved me

and just to put it into perspective, I am a person who prefers oneshots drabbles stuff like that, you know short stuff, whenever it's a longer fic I need to take breaks y' know but you have accomplished something that almost no one could because you made me read the whole +3000 words fic in one sitting and then I even re-read it which I NEVER do, so that's how good your writing is I guess wow....- there aren't many authors who can put such realistic images in my head when I read something

also props for writing sleep deprived/exhausted Xisuma so realistically - It's a popular thing in xisuma-centric fics but DAMN you definetely know how to write it properly, in a way that really makes me enjoy the fic. I like how you portrayed that feeling of when you, like, flow from sleep to concious state when you're tired it's just MMMMMM (need to add that descriptions of Doc's feelings are really sweet he's such a silly guy he's so confused <3 also how much he cares for X is so cute <333)

^ this sleepy derp invaded my computer today so I'm handing him back to you

Sorry for the long ramble! Just needed to tell you how much I enjoyed reading it, it made my day for sure!

PICKS YOU UP AND PUTS YOU BACK ON YOUR FEET. GRABS YOUR SHOULDERS. MAY MAY MAY MAY I'm going to explode into one billion small pieces!!!!!

FIRST OF ALL. XISUMA. XISUMA IN MY ASK BOX? HE IS SO PRECIOUS TO ME?? ;.; ohh the way he looks so so tired and comfortable, and the lighting is so soft, I adore him so much.

gimme a second I need to lie down. brother, I am CRAZY about them on such a fundamental level brother it is NOT OKAY. I'm not okay. I needed to post this as soon as possible so people knew that KJSHDFJKDSHF

but also, WAUGH?? WAU!! I'm so so honored... I'm always a multiple sitting reading girlie because I get either so so sucked in and NEED to stop myself, or I'm reading at such an inopportune time LOL. BUT THAT IS SO SWEET. AUGH. I'm so so glad when I get something across (like sleepy xisuma, or the half-consciousness, or xisuma all stiff and in pain, or the sleepy affection). and writing Doc like this has been sooooo fun.

Doc really is trying hard to grapple with something he doesn't quite understand or can't compartmentalize, and I spent a good and fair amount of time talking with shep about how xisuma and him might be interacting without the helmet on, what emotions might come into play, and how they might both navigate that situation. I like to joke that nobody understand xisuma/docsuma like I do but that absolutely cannot be true LMAOO I'm just crazy about him/them for no reason

auwawugh. sniffling really pathetically. I need to go lie down I think <3

[shepscapades]

I started watching through Xisuma’s Season 8 the other day (for uhhh no reason!) since I never got to watch it proper, and this early season moment really got me for some reason =w= Joe was teasing Xisuma and I was like. Yeah. Even pre-deviant joe would <3

[shepscapades]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [PART 4] [Part 5] [???]

Part 4 is finally here!! The last few months got so busy, but I would be lying if i said i didn't spend almost every day daydreaming about/ wishing i could be working on this instead; this project has been such a fun break from work and i feel like each part makes me crazier and crazier as things gets worse and worse (better and better) LOL. The composition has been sooo fun to play with, and I've been having a blast trying to figure out how to write these guys in character despite the angst and chaos :] And, considering this comic project kinda came out of nowhere and disrupted some other comic plans i had for dbhc, finding little ways to rearrange how i'm presenting lore has been really fun >:3

[This comic is part of my dbhc au, following the chaos and panic that ensues after Doc and Xisuma try to get Etho back online at the start of s9 after a very rough s8 finale that leaves him a little. broken. It's set to the vibes of Joywave's Destruction!]

[shepscapades]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [PART 5] [???]

you dropped your crown king

[This comic is part of my dbhc au, following the chaos and panic that ensues after Doc and Xisuma try to get Etho back online at the start of s9 after a very rough s8 finale that leaves him a little. broken. It's set to the vibes of Joywave's Destruction!]