#grian really said

[court-clown]

a03 authors are having a field day

[risibledeer]

hugs, all of joel's soulmates, lizzie, grian and eefo lol

Psst reqs are open, ik I draw a lot of Joel but i like drawing most hermipires so feel free ti ask, if uf like to

[boxesblr]

replaying the clip of Cleo saying "etho doesn't take himself seriously at all, but he takes other people seriously. That's part of his charm" over and over again in my head. It's so clarifying to me

[halvedslab]

For the mwarch request could you possibly do 21 with Scar and Grian?👉👈Maybe Scar is talking about Star Wars too much???

21. A kiss to shut them up

"Don't put me on hold again..........!!!!!!!!"

[floef-likes-minecraft]

A Palace of... Prismarine?

Three hermits stood at the edge of the shopping center, watching a building rising out of the river. Well, not quite rising but Grian was working hard on it. So hard, even, he had no idea three of his friends were watching him. They hadn’t arrived together, they hadn’t intended to just watch Grian but something about this building had grabbed their attention.

“What is he building?” Pearl asked and she squinted against the sunlight reflecting off of the wet blocks. She had been planning on getting some pickles, since Gem had stocked them recently but Grians build had distracted him.

“It looks almost like… some sort of palace?” Gem said, her voice going up in a question. She had just come back from stocking the pickle shop which had continuously been sold out by Pearl. It got her some good diamonds but she had not expected those pickles to be her best seller.

“But it’s made of prismarine,” Joel added, who had been standing here the longest. He really didn’t have a reason to be in the shopping district, he had a build to finish back at his base. But something had called him here, call it a gut feeling or fate.

“Am I the only one with an odd sensation of deja vú?” Pearl asked as she wrapped her arms around herself as a sudden shiver went down her spine. The foundation of the half finished building went deep into the river. It looked… misplaced in such a small body of water.

“No,” Gem confessed as she noticed a school of salmon swimming by. They almost seemed to avoid the structure, as if it gave off some bad vibe. “I feel like I’ve seen it before…”

“That’s crazy,” Joel shook his head, refusing to admit he had the exact same feeling as Gem and Pearl. He had never seen anything like this before. The cod spiraling around the pillars in the water shouldn’t feel so familiar and well known. “Where would we’ve seen it before?”

[applestruda]

Pesky bird

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Scar sacrificed himself to Grian. It’s a courtesy. An apology for wrong doing. But he fights him fair and square in the end. He just loses.

Scott sacrifices himself for Pearl. It is admitting defeat. Rolling over on your back and letting the stronger wolf win. She kills four people and readies herself to kill again. He finishes himself off, saving her the trouble. It’s an apology, too, in a way.

Pearl sacrifices herself to Scar. It is inevitable. He does not want to win this way. She does not want to win at all, begs to not win. He does not realize she isn’t fighting to kill. He won when he killed Gem, when he brought Scott down to two hearts. Scott sacrifices himself to Gem. It doesn’t matter in the end. Pearl stares at the golden apple in her hotbat and doesn’t touch it. She gives him a fight. It’s a courtesy. It’s an apology for how wrong this is.

Circles and all that.

[em-allay]

"This is the worst series of life that I have ever created," - Grian

I'm sorry sir, but did you mean the funniest???

[teddy-bear-d]

I lost motivation to colour it but here we go! The beginnings of a Teen Beach Movie - Limited Life au!

[raticalshoez]

i'm having hyperfixation drought so i did what i did best and created a crossover episode

[echo-stimmingrose]

To absolutely nobody's surprise, Grian refused to do a tutorial for how to work a complicated redstone machine and ended up breaking it.

[snifsnoof]

Hey I saw that you asked for some doodle requests.

Is it okay to request a snail grian and snail gem just chilling?

sngails

[kaesaaurelia]

Friends, tonight's Hero Forge theme is betrayal, heartbreak, and having entirely too many dogs.

Companion to this.

[braxiatel]

please please tell me someone clipped Grian and Scar making a shrine and attempting to summon Mumbo I feel so unwell about it I need to review this footage under a microscope I need to download it directly into my little mumscarian brain

[muchmossymess]

GUYS okay hear me out majoras mask boat boys au

I love legend of zelda I love boat boys this is like the ultimate combination of my interests you cannot understand the brainrot. Idk what to call it yet tho... majoras minecraft? Anyway prepare for an essay

OKAY so we have the Hero of Time, Etho, who stopped ganons plans before they started, and would be stuck in a child's body if not for the fact I think that'd be a lil weird for the more shippy aspects of this au that all the running through time aged his soul and his body followed suit (he's still got a young appearance, and the mask doesn't make him look older like he thinks). Same reason he has the scar over his eye (from the ganon fight); no matter how much the body may heal or rewind the mind will not forget.

Then navi (maybe bdubs?) left him, and he went with epona (maybe bdubs instead? (eponas a horse iydk)) and he sets out on a journey aka the beginning of mm:

Wandering through the woods on epona, gets jumped by skull kid. For those unaware, there is skull kid, a lonely lil sweetheart, and he wears the mask, an entity on its own. He also has two fairies, siblings tael and tatl.

So I was a little unsure about this for a while, but I think I've decided on grian for the skull kid and Jimmy for tael, grian bc watchers and Jimmy bc skull kid is not very nice to tael (bc of the mask) and like a listeners reference or smth blah blah blah

TATL. that's who's interesting. At the beginning she gets separated from her friends and becomes your companion. So naturally for this au she is our favourite joel smallishbeans. It works so well. Tatl is mean but cares, and that's joels dynamic with the bad boys and with etho, guys it's literally perfect idc what you say

I think it doesn't change much throughout like the story of the game, but just taking dialogue tatl says to link and its so perfect for a sassy joel to a "can't believe I'm dealing with this shit again" etho. Uh one thing different though; in hylian form etho doesn't have an ocarina but instead a mini marimba. Just because. I think it's cool, and for potential things later on.

Now, fairies in this au are just tiny glowing people shaped things with wings. The glow around them is their magic, and depending on emotions/energy the brightness changes (thats why they look like flying balls of light). Some fairies have the ability to make projections of themselves, more hylian sized in nature. This can be intimidation or distraction or w/e, but they cant do it for long periods of time bc its exhausting. These forms aren't physical. Just sized up light projections of their actual bodies.

So for a lot of their journey, joel is just a cute pocket sized ball of rage and sarcasm, who helps with ethos aim for fighting. Bc that's a game mechanic and also ethos like half blind. But like when joel calms down imagine him crawling into ethos hat and just dozing off. He can fit in the palm of your hand like guys it's so cute. But he is also capable of being worse than a mozzie

Oh probably a good point to put in what I imagine etho looks like. So it's typical link green (maybe a bit dampened?), weird pointy hat, short hair (white ofc), his shirt is more of a jacket with a fluffy cold weather collar, it's a bit too big for him but he knows he'll grow into it, he's all knobbly and thin (underfed a lil, boy was never taught how to care for himself beyond basic survival). His injured eye is red bc of ganon, and often gives him phantom pains. It can't be healed.

Anyway, at some point in their journey together, etho and joel learn a song that let's fairies have a larger physical form, no wings, sorta like the great fairies (who they learnt it from prolly). It isn't permanent, slowly draining ethos magic meter, the spell ends when you run out of magic. This is because I want them to actually be able to stand side by side or maybe hug, and also bc its hard to block a blow with your body when ur tennis ball sized.

Aaaaand, this ties back in with with marimba. What if ethos injured, or unconscious, and he obviously can't defend himself, so joel panics and plays the marimba in what he hopes is the right order to give himself a body. I imagine that being that small, you could not play an ocarina. And hey maybe joel carries etho away after that, and when the spell ends he has barely any light emitting from himself because he spent nearly all his magic (what he is made of) saving etho.

But this song isn't used much, because of its draining nature, and you can't really do any other magic things while it's going. So it's mostly just in the final fight (over and over) or tough moments or maybe joel wants to experience something like hoe hylians do. It's obviously inferior to how he experiences things as a fairy, of course, he's just curious thats all. He totally doesn't want etho to do it more.

Okay I think ill sorta stop here, I am NOT done, I will probably post some art I've done for this later lol, and I want help with who everyone else is (mumbo is the moon. You cannot stop me nor change my mind) with mcyts to npcs

[angeart]

hhau mimic arc rambles part III bonus: the eclipse

(~2,8 k words) // other parts & au masterpost here

Every couple of years, there’s a total eclipse in this world. The moon is big, obscuring the sun in a horrible totality, entrapping it for what feels like too long. This is a big event, but not because people are eager to spectate the sky and bask in its weirdness. No, it has much worse connotations.

Because the eclipsed moon affects many of the hybrids. Especially the animal ones.

Hunters look forward to the eclipse because it promises a lot of loud, distressed, instinct-driven hybrids scattering about without many defences. They prepare traps specifically for this occasion and organise big hunting parties, eager for the upcoming bloodbath and bounty.

The eclipse happens mid-winter while Scar and Grian are on the server.

And it’s awful.

[cws violence, murder (no known characters), panic, mind-altering states and a loss of self control, haywire instincts, non-consensual manhandling, horrory vibes]

They don’t really know what is happening at first. Hermitcraft is a safe server which has many things coded differently, and because eclipses hurt many hybrids, they never happen there. So Scar and Grian have never experienced anything like this, and the yank it has on Grian’s state in particular is startingly sharp and terrifyingly confusing.

Scar himself is alright, because—and the two of them don’t know this at the time—vexes are immune to the eclipse. 

Actually, that’s not quite accurate. The eclipse helps heighten their magic.

They thrive.

Grian does anything but thrive.

His instincts go absolutely batshit haywire. He starts getting disoriented and incredibly uneasy, anxiety holding him in a choke hold, and all rationality and caution leave him, replaced by pure fear. 

He starts making inadvertent chirping sounds, panicked, and no matter what Scar says or does, Grian can’t seem to stop.

It’s so dark outside. And Grian’s chirping isn’t the only one that sounds through the forest.

In a world where they thought avians might be all nearly hunted to extinction, there are now suddenly, in this darkness, piercing faraway chirps. Just as panicked and lost-sounding as Grian’s own.

But those are not the only sounds the looming forest has to offer.

There’s also hollering and cheers. Whistles and barks. Twigs snapping under careless boots. Hunter parties following every single hybrid noise right to its source only to slice it shut. Shrill, chilling screams before some hybrid inevitably plunges into absolute, horrifying silence.

Scar’s desperately trying to get Grian to shush. He pleads him to stop, to be quiet. Tries to calm him down.

But it’s all futile. Grian has no control over himself. He can’t make it stop; it’s a wholly new kind of fear, overpowering and unfamiliar, yanking at his instincts. (It feels, a little bit, like a huge moon crashing down while the ground underneath him shakes and disintegrates.) (It feels like locking eyes with someone and not being sure if he’ll ever get to see them again.) (It feels like apocalypse. Like the end.) (His mind screams at him and he can’t help but scream along with it.)

Scar wonders if he should put a hand over Grian’s mouth. He doesn’t know what to do, but the hunters are out there, in large numbers, tireless and eager, and Grian’s voice is now the beacon luring them over, pinging with their exact location.

Grian is slowly backing away, hunched, feathers puffed. His wings are semi-curled around him, no longer tucked under the cloak, even though they’re out in the open. 

He doesn’t seem like he’d do well with being touched.

But Scar needs him to be quiet. For Grian’s sake too.

Before Scar can do anything, though, Grian’s earwings flit wildly and he whips his head to the side, honing in on some noise.

It’s a distressed chirp, one that sounds closer than any of the other ones. 

It’s an avian in distress calling for help.

Grian thought there aren’t any avians but him, and now there is one, still alive, so very close, desperate for aid, and— Grian’s mind blanks. There’s only one single thing to do here. He isn’t thinking. His heart beats wildly in overdrive. His body moves.

Blindly, Grian bolts in the direction of the sound. 

And it’s up to Scar to scramble and run after him. 

It’s more than that. More than just following Grian. Because there is so much at stake, and he needs to stop him and quiet him and— And he might have to exert force, and—

Oh. He is basically hunting Grian down here.

He is the hunter following in the steps of a terrified avian.

And Grian, in his dazed and fragmented perception of the world, feels just like prey. There is so much happening for him right now: it’s dark and all he can see is Scar’s piercing vex eyes when he glances over his shoulder; he’s lost in panicky instincts, trying to reach another avian in distress, hurtling blindly towards potential danger; and he does feel hunted.

On top of that, he can’t stop the stream of bird noises. He can’t pull his wings under his cloak either. He’s stumbling and tripping and scaping himself all over, but he feels like he needs to keep running.

He no longer knows if he’s even heading the right way. The chirping he was following fell dead silent. His head is just screaming at him. Hot white panic and a cacophony of unstoppable, overpowering instincts.

Scar has to stop him before he gets himself killed.

As awful as it is, Scar doesn’t care about that other potential avian (it could be a trap) nearly as much as he cares about Grian. His priorities here are clear, desperation thick and loud in his lungs, pressing at his ribs. There’s no time for bargaining or for steeling himself. 

He needs to act.

Scar grabs Grian and tackles him to the ground.

He’s pinning him down, sort of straddling him, hands on Grian’s mouth, hopelessly trying to muffle the noises. He feels absolutely vile, but he doesn’t know what else to do. His breaths come in little sharp huffs of blue magic, shiny through the darkness as he expels a ton of emotional energy just to keep himself from panicking and crying.

He finds that it’s not as easy to hold Grian down when he doesn’t want to be pinned down. But also it is. It is easy, far too easy—harrowingly so. Grian’s so light. (It frightens Scar to even touch the thought of how simple this would be for the hunters too.) 

He’s terrified of hurting Grian accidentally. He’s very capable of it; Grian’s made of brittle hollow bones after all, and Scar’s grip is a bit too strong, but he doesn’t have a choice here. Grian won’t stop thrashing, fighting to be freed. (But Scar knows that letting go would almost surely result in Grian’s death.)

And where Grian’s attention is kind of selective, not processing things at all, Scar’s attention is sharp—sharpened by panic—keenly attuned to their surroundings. He hears all the various noises come and go. Not necessarily chirps; other hybrids, too. Them falling silent. The hunters yelling. And the screams. God. The awful screams.

They’re all too far away for now, thankfully, but if Grian won’t stop, they’re bound to come this way. After all, if Scar can hear them, surely they can hear Grian too—?

Scar feels nauseous and horribly helpless. The hunters cheer and laugh as the hybrid noises go dead silent, one by one— only the hounds left barking and howling in their wake.

Scar knows that, even though it’s awful, they can’t help any of those hybrids. But he’s going to do everything in his power so that at least the two of them can survive this.

Despite all his (pointless) efforts, the hunters catch up to them anyway.

As they approach, Scar is struggling to quiet Grian down, and Grian isn’t thinking straight enough to properly fight. It’s the worst possible situation. 

There’s no point in quieting Grian down anymore when the hunters are right here though, and so Scar moves on the defensive, ready to give it all to keep Grian alive. The fight is ugly, drenched in frightening desperation; Scar is numb to the pain even when something tears. Grian’s chirps get worse. Warmth drips down Scar’s face.

But then a different sort of howling breaks through Scar’s mounting panic, and—

A group of wild vexes rushes in. Not to save Scar and Grian in particular; it’s just a lucky timing.

Because as it turns out, just the way hunters set off to hunt down hybrids during the eclipse, the vexes—who are more powerful at this time, magic thrumming strongly in their veins—set off to hunt down the hunters. So nicely accumulated for them. So loud. So easy to find. 

The vexes and the humans clash, and in the swell of the chaos, Scar manages to drag Grian away. 

He wants to keep going, increase the distance between them and everyone else as much as possible, but all too soon the forest opens up into fields, and no way he’s pulling a dazed Grian out there where they can’t hide. So instead he swerves, anchoring them against a rock formation—an array of boulders and a jagged cliff wall. 

He presses Grian into a small dent there, covering him with his own body (imprisoning him there, in a way). Hiding Grian’s wings, muffling his chirps, whispering frantic things that are meant to be soothing. The sky is still dark, and Grian’s still chirping, although it’s quieter now; it’s clear he’s exhausting himself, but he’s still making noises. Still unable to stop, despite the terror and the fatigue.

They get found again.

But it’s not the human hunters that find them this time. It’s the vex group, sneaking up on them, all their sharp edges drenched in blood, glowing with magic.

Scar turns his back to Grian, still pressing against him, tucking him against the rocks, hiding him as much as possible. He’s ready to lash out. He’s ready to fight with these vexes, even if he’s outnumbered. (He’s got no species loyalty here, after all.) 

In a curious tone, one of the vexes says: “That avian is going to get you killed.”

The words register to Grian through the haze. He’s still absolutely lost amidst this all, barely understanding the world around him, struggling to process anything. But there’s something about the words avian and get you killed, and the thought of Scar, that makes it through the fog.

It only serves to make him more distressed. He breathes in sharp, shallow breaths, and his chirping grows louder again, high pitched. But it’s not just the chirps this time. Some of the sounds he makes are choked, merging into something more like himself—the sound of helpless sobs.

Scar is shielding Grian with his back, but that means he’s turning his back on Grian’s cries and all of his misery. He cannot comfort him. He has no words that would make Grian not afraid right now.

The vex suggest leaving Grian or—worse—using him as a bait.

Scar’s staring them down, growling lowly, one eye squinted as blood runs down his face. “How about you leave.”

The vex don’t budge. They think they’re after a good thing here, after all. Surely, Scar also wants these hunters dead?

What they’re suggesting isn’t to sacrifice Grian as a bait—they don’t actually want to outright hurt or endanger him, even if it maybe doesn’t translate well through their stance and words. They’re not malicious in that way. What they’re suggesting is simply pragmatic in their minds. (I mean, they wouldn’t grieve if the avian happened to die there, but it wasn’t their goal to let it happen.) 

“We’re hunting the humans,” they note, as if that should’ve been enough to sway Scar. “We could use the avian—”

“No.”

One of the vex, white hair braided and smile sharp, peeks past Scar, trying to glimpse the feathers. The violet shade reflected in the glow of their magic tells him everything he needs to know, sating his curiosity, and he whistles, impressed. Amazed that an avian like this has lasted so long.

Scar lunges at him for getting too close.

He gets laughed at in return. What’s he gonna do, all alone? Not even channelling his magic to heal his own wound. It’s just funny to them. Cute. “What’re you going to do?” they tease, a bit too cheerily for the situation at hand. It rings threatening. “You’re outnumbered, pal.”

Scar doesn’t back down. “I’d take at least one of you down with me.” It’s a big statement. Covering up all of his nauseating fear and unending tension. Because he’ll do it. He’ll fight if he has to, and it will be ugly, and he might fail—he might die—but he’ll for sure give it everything he has.

And he can tell there’s camaraderie between this group of vexes. That they don’t really want any of them seriously hurt. 

They, as vexes, know the best how dangerous a feral, cornered vex with something to protect can be.

There’s a sliver of respect this earns Scar, unbeknownst to him. The will to stand up to them even when he’s outnumbered like this. To not give in to the pressure and instead fight for his values. For what he cares for.

The white haired vex—seemingly a leader of the group of sorts—reiterates, tone a bit lower, that the avian is going to get Scar killed. That he’d be better off without him. (Essentially voicing the deep rooted fear Grian already has.)

He also extends an invitation, almost in the same breath, impressed by Scar standing up to them. But it’s only Scar who is invited, and it’s blatant—the condition laid down is drop the avian or let’s use him as a bait and hunt together. 

With sharp ire and a swell of protectiveness, Scar counters that he’d be better off without them, actually.

There’s a snort and a mocking, “Aight, let’s see how long you can last.”

The relief Scar feels when they relent and leave is immense, leaving him weak in his knees.

He thinks they’re foolish, risking themselves like that. In his mind, they’re the definition of the violent vex, that dark reputation that seems to now stick to Scar and follow him too by the virtue of being the same kind of hybrid. He doesn’t want anything to do with that. 

And of course, he’d never leave Grian.

Grian is his last connection to home. He loves him, even if it never feels like it’s enough.

Excruciatingly slowly, sun eventually peeks back out. But even then, it takes Grian a very long time to untangle himself from these dazed, nonsensical instincts. It’s such a heavy, sticky veil and he’s left disoriented and confused for the longest time. Through his exhaustion, he feels weak and dizzy and out of it.

Scar is also exhausted, but they’re nowhere near safe yet. Still pressed against the rocks. Every nerve ending is flared up, Scar’s senses alert to the point of flinching at the subtlest sound, hypervigilant. But as Grian slumps and quiets down, Scar’s firm grip on him follows. 

Slowly, so slowly, Scar’s hold on Grian becomes comforting instead of restricting and terrifying.

He can tell that it left bruises.

Scar hates everything about it, but— They’re alive.

The sun is back, Grian is quiet, and they’re alive.

But they still need to find safety. And Grian’s so frazzled, still processing what even happened. The blurred memories of chirps and howls and screams swirl through his mind. He feels lightheaded, and like his skull is stuffed full, unable to think clearly. He doesn’t quite understand any of it, and his body feels locked in place. 

Grian wants to stay sitting here until everything starts making sense, but they don’t have that kind of time. They can’t stay. They need to move. They need to properly hide. 

Scar feels awful, but he needs to push through. He needs to force Grian to move.

The snow is splattered with blood. The forest is dead silent, scattered bodies left behind all across it. The area is riddled with traps, some activated and others still hidden, waiting to be triggered. 

The sun is shining.

The silence is eerie.

The scent of blood is thick and fresh and nothing feels safe.

--

Later, when Grian’s more coherent, he says, “They were right.” In an incredibly quiet, fragile, unsteady voice—but laced with determination—he tells Scar: “You should’ve taken their deal.”

Scar immediately tries to dismiss it. Preferably to not engage with this conversation at all. “Not interested.”

Grian registers the shut down of the discussion, but that doesn’t make it any less loud inside of his mind (and heart). He simply goes quiet and withdraws. Lips pursed, lightly frowning, staring somewhere away.

They don’t talk about it again.

Late at night, when Grian can’t sleep because he’s too high strung, he thinks of how it’d feel like, to be used by those vexes as a bait.

He dreams about it.

He dreams of faraway chirps and laughter and hounds finding him.

He has so many nightmares after this.

-------

BONUS screenshot for shits n giggles: