#fic: watcher

[myeoomski]

ddvau grian i guess

i like messing w colors

alt/boring one under cut

[1-marigold-1]

When your best friend is a bilblically accurate angel

They are all in the same situation guys (Yes I headcannon Pix as a watcher, since the Empires x Hermitcraft crossover hghgh)

They are three stages of one expierience

Mumbo: confused, shocked, kinda uncomfortable when around Grian in his full form, starts getting used to it

Impulse: Used to it

Sloy: Literally. Doesn't care. "You're a watcher? Cool."

Also this meme

That's the vibes I get from them

Ngl "My best friend is a biblically accurate angel" sounds like a good movie/book title

[pawubits]

ok guys dont freak out but. grian fanart.

I DID SAY THIS WAS AN MCYT BLOG,,,OKAY,,

(btw this is fanart for a fic called "Healing Is a Four Letter Word" made by Hypno_cat over on ao3!)

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ I come with gifts of this stuff! }~

The Watcher In Red

Jason has been seeing a figure who he has dubbed “Red” as the figure is always wearing red and the fact when they fight they leave quite the mess

Red has been around since Jason got back to Gotham and started his work as a crime lord in crime alley and ever since he first noticed Red they have been a very helpful ally with his work such as leading Jason to trouble and helping him stay hidden with going for a surprise attack or when he gets injured or knocked out Red takes care of the enemy’s then and gets Jason to safety

And it’s not a secret either Red has shown themselves in front of other or when fighting if your dealing with Red Hood you deal with Rose as most people have started to call them not that Jason is complaining it’s something new he can tease them with and get them flustered as he so loves doing and when they cover their red face with their black and red fan to hide their blush anyway but Jason can still remember the first time they met…

When Jason saw them he was half convinced that he was having blood loss hallucinations

Jason heard that some asshole wasn’t listening to his rules of not selling drugs to kids and leaving the schools alone so Jason was about to deal with that fucker but turns out he got friends close by and they shot at him but not before Jason got them but they still got a few good shots and now Jason is laying in a alley in his own blood

And he was sure he was going to bleed out or he’d have to get his ass moving to a safe house but the closest one was a few miles away and he doubted he could walk that far with a couple bullets in him and bleeding until he saw them 

They were wearing a black and red dress and black and red boots with a heel but the most obvious thing of this figure was their hat it was black and red like the rest of them but it hide their face so much it looks like they have none and with Jason luck they might not but they look like they just stepped straight out of a old gothic painting and….were they walking towards him?

As Jason noises this the figure they lean down and start to treat his injuries and Jason is to out of it to ask questions and passes out as they just about finished with his injuries

And when Jason wakes up in the safe house he just thinks it was a hallucination but how wrong he was…

Lady Gotham took in Danny after he was forced to leave his home dimension after the G.I.W got him and turned him into a full ghost, the injures the G.I.W that ultimately killed him gave him made it a bit hard to talk sometimes so when he was given to Lady Gotham who barely ever actually talked instead of broadcasting her feelings like Danny does now he was relieved.

Lady Gotham took Danny in around the same time Bruce took in Jason and very quickly did Jason because Danny’s favorite robin and Lady Gotham was just happy her Little Red Rose was happy.

Lady Gotham ships the hell out of Danny and Jason.

Lady Gotham and Danny have tea regularly and just enjoy the others company.

Lady Gotham gave Danny full control over crime alley and that part of Gotham.

Danny looks more human than what his old half ghost form looked like.

~{Here are what I’m thinking for Danny’s outfit! And for the hats either one is fine, I can’t really pick one so I just added both}~

••••••••••••••••••••••••

~{and that’s all for this! I hope you gremlins like it and you know the rules you use my stuff tag me! Anyway byeeeee!}~

[cuteiemonster]

Honestly I don't have much of an explanation outside of I like the irony of a Blind Watcher. And. Well. Grian is right there for things to go awry like that. So,

This was created for the 2024 Reverse Big Bang hosted by @mcytblraufest !! Us artists had to create artwork for the writers to claim this time around! >:)

and speaking of writers.. my art garnered the attention of not one, but two writers, who both created fanfics based off of my art!! It's been such a cool experience seeing how differently they've both taken things and they're both VERY WELL DONE!!!!!!!!

" Glass " by @honeylashofficial

Parts make up a whole, but Mumbo hasn't been a part of anything for a very long time. He was okay with that though. The world was more than welcome to continue outside his window, as long as he had his oven and his cable tv all to himself. But every once in a while, the outside world comes inside, and he has to chase it back out with a broomstick. This time, his technique backfires in a way he never could have imagined. Or... Mumbo could count the number of his friends without even raising a hand. Who knew that a 30,000 year-old creature stealing his bed comforter could change that?

" Lost To The End " by Sary_Sary

Six months ago, Mumbo’s closest friend vanished without a trace, leaving nothing but unanswered questions. 6 months later, a strange creature appears in his bedroom, with no inkling of how or why. With no clue how this creature got there or what it wants, Mumbo is thrown into a whirlwind of confusion as he tries to figure out what is going on. Now, Mumbo has to continue trying to figure out where Grian went, all while learning what this creature even is, and how to help him without harming him in the process. To make matters worse, the only person who can help him unravel this mystery is the one person Mumbo swore he would never work with: Scar.

[onelonelyghost0]

DIPPER WILL BE TRANS. AND UNHINGED. HES GONNA HAVE A SIMILAR JOURNEY WITH GENDER AS I DID BUT HES GONNA LAND ON MOSTLY MASC INSTEAD OF FEM. IDK BUT EVERY FIC I WRITE HAS HIM BEING TRANS IDK BUT THE BEAM HIT HIM. YES THIS WILL END UP BEING IMPORTANT. IF YOU DONT LIKE IT why the fuck are you on my blog reading my shit like wtf? Bffr and go to another blog, or follow me.

[lifegrowsfromashes]

Scar stares up at the moon, from where he lays down in his bed. Grian’s across from him, muttering into the darkness, laying on top of the covers and tucking his head into his wings.

The air smells like dirt.

He thinks of the past day. Of the shouting. He wonders whether Grian will talk to him tomorrow.

He didn’t mean to lose a life. he never does, but something always happens. Grian knows he’s not as strong as the other hermits, but he still refuses to recognise it, and always expects more from Scar than he’s able to give. It was once they’d gotten to the desert that his face became harder, that something began to set behind his eyes.

He sighs. The perfectly arranged checkerboard of stars stare back at him, silent. Grian’s snoring, but just a little. He wonders if avians usually snore.

Scar breathes in the smell of their dirt house, and wonders whether he’ll be able to make it up to him.

He was joking around, when it happened. The sand was getting into his armour and he felt creaky all over. He’d known it was getting to Grian, but hadn’t realised the extent of his annoyance. Communication was… never a strong point.

They had started getting snappy with each other, at about midday. Scar’s limbs were aching, and he needed to rest, but Grian kept talking about how there were no torches around here and if they stopped now, they’d get eaten alive. And Scar didn’t want to think about that, so he tried to tell a joke, and Grian went all tense and funny, and said, through gritted teeth, ‘you’re seriously making a joke right now?’ and he didn’t have time to see the creeper coming up from behind him.

Something had hardened in Grian’s eyes. The urgency when he told him to run. The enchanted shine of his diamond sword coming out of its hilt.

Scar hadn’t realised. The sand had slowed down his reflexes. Once he turned around to fight, he only heard a hiss, and then- white.

The funny thing about dying here was that you didn’t feel the pain, specifically. It’s more, like, God, this should hurt. But nothing comes. Just a choice, to keep going, or to leave. 

Scar hated the artificiality of it. Death always felt so- unreal. For some players, it was the end of everything, but to him, it was more of a reminder. A taunt. He knew he'd never last long enough to escape its clutches.

When he came back, he felt lighter. Emptier. Something, some intangible thing, had withered his soul, a little. He looked up at where his nametag resided to see it was a sickly yellow. And then, coming over the dune of sand- Grian. Sat there, in the crevice the creeper had made, sorting his belongings into a chest.

Grian’s fists were curled tightly over the lump of gold in his hands. The totem. The totem Grian had told him, over and over, to use in an emergency, to keep by him at all times. The totem Scar had stored in a shulker.

Scar did his best to pick everything up off the floor, and to sort it all out into his inventory, But Grian had such a tight hold on that totem of undying, and when Scar asked for it back, Grian’s eyes began to shine with tears. And then he started shouting. 

It was all the usual things. Scar didn’t react fast enough, Scar couldn’t pull his weight, Grian was always picking up the slack, and why couldn’t he last longer than five minutes? And didn’t he know he’s only got three chances, and he’s already down to two? 

Scar got pretty good at taking it. The thing was, he knew the reason why. the real reason. 

Grian hated watching him die.

But he’d never say that. Instead they were trapped in this loop of Scar messing up, and Grian exploding, and him doing everything, everything he could, to fix it.

Usually, Mumbo would be the one to sort out their differences. Mumbo would tell them somthing to calm him down, something easy, about their explosive personalities. 

Scar wonders where he is, now. After the Warden had appeared, anyone who was able to survive that first attack had ran as far as they could. They hadn’t heard anything for the other Hermits for- well, it had been too long to tell.

Scar turns over to face Grian again. He looks so peaceful when he slept. There's still that fire, though, behind his eyes, the memory of his voice scorching Scar’s ears. But, as Mumbo said, that was how you knew he cared. Scar knew he cared. He just wishes he could show it in a way that was less… aggressive. He feels like the only way he could find out how Grian really felt about something was through fighting. And, God, he's so tired of fighting.

[definitelynotshouting]

lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) | Chapter 11

Summary:

Grian, when it comes down to it, is many things— a patchwork quilt of stolen code, copied memories, disparate ashes lifted from the last dregs of fire and pressed back into a mold; the facsimile of a Player. Of his own borrowed faults, he cradles many: stubborn persistence, reckless impulsivity, a cruelty born of his own capricious fractals. All gnash their teeth against the speckled woodgrain of Grian’s self-control, a gnawing beast at the distal roots of rotting trees. With the sun’s tempered ascent limning every raddled board in the wall, what wells up between his gums and teeth now is impatience. Last night’s fall had been snake eyes in a roll of the dice, paid for in the hot, tender pulses at the back of his skull, collected tenfold in the blossom of bruises swallowing his skin beneath the jumper. The warm, giddy buzz thrilling in his chest has begun to cool somewhat, making deferential way for a wash of numb static; blinding, a little stupid— lutulent where he stares blankly at the wall. Blink; the world falls prey to a hazy fog, twin cotton veils tumbling over his eyes. Blink again; it peels back at the corners, a wince in the early march of morn. Caught between two maligned realities, Grian traces the muzzy halftones where they curve and melt into the floor, and follows each crevice in the wood until his eyes begin to burn.

I LIVE!! I DIE!! I LIVE AGAIN!!!!

As promised, here's the official pretty post™ to put on your blogs announcing HUNGER AU IS BACK ON THE MENU BABEYYYY!!!!! Thank you to everyone who was so incredibly patient waiting for me to return-- im back now, and hopefully i wont be falling off the map again like that any time soon.

But thats not all im bringing you with this update!! My very dear friend @corvidaearts made an official Hunger AU Carrd for my birthday in october, which im finally now able to properly promote. Thank you Crow, for being an absolutely incredible friend and a madlad at making carrds-- seriously, if you want a gorgeous web design, go hit them up for a commission :D

As always, likes are appreciated, reblogs are treasured, and comments in the tags or on the fic itself will net you a place of honor on my fridge. Thanks for being so patient, and hope you all enjoy the chapter! Cheers, and here's to the upcoming New Year!!!!❤️🥂

[stiffyck]

Still obsessed with this fic :3

(Written by the amazing @/desertduality)

[aquinnix]

For a split second after the angered words had left his lips, Grian eyes shone purple. It was an outburst, the stress of it all, annoyance.

Lizzie had heard him say it.

Lizzie had heard him claim his creation.

Grian giggled awkwardly, thinking, trying to save the situation. Maybe she hadn’t been close enough to hear, maybe she would just think he had lost his mind like so many others.

Maybe.

“What do you mean you made it?”

May be.

Void why had he been so stupid? Why couldn’t he have controlled himself just a moment longer? No one could know. They would hate him. They would break him. They would break this.

Don’t they know there are things so much worse?

Grian ran.

[characcoon]

There's gotta be an universal rule that whenever Elven Scar exists, he has to offer the Elven Kiss cookie like this. It's just too good.

Scene from chapter 3 of Color Theory.

[cybershock24601]

For some reason whenever I start thinking about post canon Rookanis, I keep thinking about Crimson Peak and I think that's because there's some huge potential for major Gothic Horror going on here. One of the enduring traits of gothic fiction is that there's something wrong with the house (the supernatural element essentially, hauntings, ghosts, etc) because there's something wrong with the family and boy is there a whole hell of a lot wrong with the Dellamortes.

Rook makes for a fitting gothic heroine naively joining this really fucked up family and culture because every Rook other then a de Riva really doesn't know much about how the Crows really operate and has gotten a very skewed view into their world dealing with Teia and Viago acting as patriotic freedom fighter, and no Rook would really know the full extent of Lucanis' very messed up family dynamics because that man does not talk about his trauma, so Rook is walking into a nightmare blind. And that's just the political and family drama, imagine how much more interesting it could get with an element of the supernatural because magic, ghosts, and hauntings are all a thing in dragon age.

The Veil usually gets really thin in places where a lot of blood has been spilled and how many people do you think have died in the ancestral home of a house of assassins? How many members of the Dellamortes do you think died inside there as a result of Crow infighting and in particular Caterina's bid to remain First Talon? How much pain and suffering mark its halls from the generational trauma of the systematic physical, psychological, and emotional abuse required to turn children into trained killers? If there was anywhere perfectly primed for a haunting, its Villa Dellamorte.

And wouldn't an upset and angry spirit seeing how miserable this terrible place is making its two favorite people be a perfect way to stir up the ghosts haunting the halls? I just think it would be fun for Spite being the unwitting source of all the supernatural problems because he's so pissed about Lucanis and Rook continuing to make themselves miserable by trying to make living in Villa Dellamorte work and accidentally bringing the literal ghosts of Dellamorte past to life

Anyways, I want to make a Caterina to face all that she lost holding onto a title that is going to end up dying with her because Lucanis was never going to be who she wanted him to be and made Illario so like her he ruined any chance he had to take her place as First Talon. I want Caterina to reckon with the literal ghosts of her past and realize everything she did was meaningless in the end. That she lost and ruined her family for nothing and all she has left are two broken boys that she destroyed herself and a crumbling, dying House.

I definitely want Lucanis to break the cycle of generational trauma and leave but I can't decide what to do with Illario because I do think that the guy deserves a win and should get a happy or at least bittersweet ending but the idea of Caterina being stuck with the disgraced grandson she ignored and will never be able to properly hold onto the title she fought so hard for and sacrificed so much for because he tried to make himself too much like her could also be really interesting because Illario mirrors Caterina enough that he might just remain stuck in the familial trauma cycle with her

[solargeist]

The Watchers in my AU are meant to be complicated and confusing. It’s part of why Grian stays for so long, why he’s so conflicted and why it bothers him to the point of venting to Mumbo.

They can be very kind, they do love him, they compliment him on everything. He gets gifts and everything given to him.

But on the other hand, bc they love him, they can be critical, telling him why that and why this, not that not this, they have pretty high standards for Beings that have seen everything already, not easy to genuinely impress.

They give him food, as parental figures should, anything he asks, but that’s sorta the problem, he always has to ask, there’s no way around this, no independence. He can ask for ingredients to cook by himself, but they’ll watch him.

He’s given clothes to wear, always within Watcher standard, dark and loose garments, open for his wings. He’d honestly prefer brighter colours, but that’s not rly a choice.

They tell him he’s special, he was chosen, better than the rest, a champion, a hero, and while it pets his ego, he feels pressure, they went out on a limp for him and he still can’t do enough. There is so much guilt.

Being here in the end messes with his psyche a bit, he’s much shorter than everyone, he has to rely on everyone, they all treat him like a kid, petting his hair or moving him via his shoulders instead of asking. He accidentally leans into this sometimes as a subconscious coping mechanism, he cries easier than he thinks he should. Tantrums where he has to press his face into his hands, or grumble and stomp off. He always has to apologize.

Despite being treated like a child, he is a Watcher child, so he studies a lot, he trains a lot. If he throws up from training, that’s no excuse (well by Flora’s standards)

He does feel a sort of comfort or safety around Aether, She’s lenient with him, but they’re definitely still not equals. She still hides things from him She thinks is too serious, She’s still overtly positive. He thinks abt Her sometimes, in hindsight he knows it was a family dynamic, and he feels guilt abt this too.

The Watchers love him, but they are ultimately overbearing, overwhelming, and frankly quite scary if you don’t play by their rules. Grian has reason to be cautious, the silent threats that hang over his head, never directly said to him, but traitors are cast out, if you’re not worthy you don’t deserve these gifts of wings or eyes. I think he’s convinced if they ever find him they’ll rip his eyes out with talons.

He won’t admit that he likes the attention sometimes, when his efforts are acknowledged and/or praised, when his hair is brushed. He wants their approval.

However, this is the only ‘human’ contact he gets. He doesn’t have anyone else, so it’s taken with a grain of salt how genuine his feelings are abt the attention.

[mummyscarian]

guys have we considered that bigb's watcher name is terry

[sixteenth-days]

has anyone asked for watcher mumbo yet

"Grian," Pearl said, after a moment, "are you contagious?"

Grian made a sour expression as he shoved Mumbo past her into her base; she stepped aside, eyebrows raised. "I haven't got a virus, Pearl."

"Just asking," she said, pushing the door shut behind him. "Cause, you know, I'm pretty sure the last time I saw Mumbo, he had two eyes."

"What's important is that it's not my fault," Grian said, bundling Mumbo onto a sofa. Mumbo was staring at nothing, in about fifty different directions. Well, that was worrying.

Pearl looked at Grian doubtfully.

"It's not! It's actually not!" Grian said, defensive. "I didn't do anything! He stole my soul!"

Pearl went to flick Mumbo in the forehead, smoothly averted the gesture when she couldn't spot a clear patch of skin to target. "Well, what on earth did you go and do that for?" she asked him, not really anticipating a response.

"Mind, I'm not sure if he actually is a Watcher now or if he just looks like one," Grian said thoughtfully. "I guess that's his thing this season, is looking like what he eats, did you know?"

"Huh," Pearl said back, and squinted. "What would be the difference?"

"I'm not exactly sure," Grian admitted after a moment. "Maybe when he's coherent again we can ask him if he feels like his soul's been fundamentally reshaped or not."

"And when do you think that's going to be?" Pearl asked dubiously. She snapped her fingers in front of Mumbo's face a few times to emphasize the point. A trio of eyes blinked at her.

Grian shrugged. "Few hours? This is easier when it happens in the void. There's a lot less to look at."

"Alright. Well, I'm not getting any work done until then, I guess. Wanna watch a movie?"

[silvers-not-home]

love how i've seen a few stuff about jimmy being a phoenix, representing his break from the curse. the canary finally broke out of its cage and it's taking every torch with him on the way out