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#grian macaw
pearcethinks · 2 months
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meet my lego bird, his name is grian
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he has a log that he stands on but i havent built it yet
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iamluminia · 3 months
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when i stress
i draw grian
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eh-nigmatic · 5 months
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bird brain
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daily-grian · 2 years
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Hehe. Hanging out.,,.
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pawscraft · 4 months
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I don't know watcher lore, I just had some imagery ideas. Is this anything?
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REJECT TRADITION. EMBRACE GREENWING MACAW
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thedemonastrophel · 1 month
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Grian fanart!
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Well more of a pesky bird than anything, but hey! It's been a sec since I've drawn traditional pesky bird-ness :]
(After this might be a certain government worker but I suppose we'll see)
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crescentcaribou · 2 years
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Day 3) Cookie
no birds were harmed in the making of this comic. mumbo chased grian around a bit before he remembered that he has no mouth and therefore cannot eat cookies
Here’s the links to the rest of my Hermitobers, and here’s the official prompt list!  
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thatnerdydino · 2 years
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two album cover redraws I did while we had no WiFi in our dorm. this came to me as an idea one day while browsing through one of those randomly generated YT playlists (idk what this says abt my music interests lol)
if you have any suggestions for future hermit/traffic cover redraws, I would love to hear them! :D
(as always click for better quality. original images after the cut)
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entropyvoid · 1 year
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Decora Grian
I thought it'd be cute to draw Hermits in fashion styles they normally wouldn't go for, but that I think fit them - so I started with the pesky bird man. It was pointed out to me after I was done that I spelled surprise wrong, oops. Unfortunately this is traditional so I can't do anything about it. Imma just take no responsibility for that and blame it on this universe's Scar. Maybe he's a fashion designer or something.
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galaxygermdraws · 1 year
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Was doing some traditional doodles the other day and popped out some Grians. Yes he is a blue parrot and not a red parrot. Fight me /lh
I mean he’s a shapeshifter he can be either or, I just rlly like the blue feathers on him. Also testing out expressions without drawing a mouth is very fun
(reblogs w tags/comments are appreciated. Thankyu)
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v4guelyv4mpiric · 1 year
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my Grian character chart !!
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echidna-cosmos · 1 year
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i don't post my traditional art much here but i liked this one so here ya go :D
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daily-grian · 2 years
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How small is grian compared to the other hermits? Or how much is the height different between him and the tallest and shortest hermit (if he isn't the shortest)
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Depends on the bird!
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dailycruppy · 8 months
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(Day 30) ghosty boi
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"Hello, Riff! Say, you wouldn't happen to be busy with anything, would you?" Cygnet drawls, his breath curling soft and delicate and far too cold for anything human against the skin of Riff's neck, raising goosebumps.
"N- no, I'm.. I'm not busy. Just tinkering," He responds, failing to keep the tremble out of his voice, and Cygnet's giggle manages to both soothe and petrify him, with the knowledge of what comes next.
"Oh, good. I'm hungry, Riff," Cygnet drawls, as Riff manages to shrug off the straps of the harness that keeps his left arm in place. He pulls himself from Cygnet's grasp, turning around and setting the prosthetic limb on the workbench behind him.
"Can you help me with the right one?" He asks, and Cygnet smiles cordially, reaching up to slowly, delicately, tauntingly undo the right arm's harness, sliding it from Riff's shoulder and pressing his mouth softly against the light pink scars decorating the residual limb.
The contact makes Riff lock up, and Cygnet rolls his eyes, chin coming up to rest on his pale shoulder as he sets the arm beside it's twin.
"I'm just kissing, Riff, relax. You know I wouldn't go there." Riff can only nod, voice lost to deep, shaking breaths as he tries to settle himself. He always gets tense when someone touches the place where his arms used to be. It's been so many years, and he still feels the loss of his upper limbs like a shadow, following him incessantly. Sometimes he'll awaken in a half conscious frenzy, desperately trying to find his comm before realizing that it's entirely normal not to feel your arms when you don't have them.
It haunts him, some days, the days his shoulders and residual limbs ache, and he can do little more stare at his prosthetics, some odd grief tearing into him like a wound.
On the matter of wounds, Cygnet has clearly gotten impatient while Riff was lost in thought, because there's a hand on the back of his neck and an uncorked potion bottle being shoved against his lips.
He opens his mouth, an easy, routine motion, and lets Cygnet pour the acrid concoction down his throat, a hiss of radiation and magic searing his flesh as it goes. He tries not to taste much of it, instead basking in the way Cygnet smiles at him, warm and cheery and downright carnivorous.
"Good boy, Riff. You're so sweet to me," He croons, and something inside Riff caramelizes, his heart jelly-soft and his legs trembling to match. With his prosthetics off he can't very well balance himself, not with the drugs already sinking their claws into his senses, so he's grateful for the hand on his back, leading him to the center of the room.
Carefully, Riff levers himself to the floor, sitting with his legs crossed. It's always a little odd to try and balance without his arms, but he manages.
"Well. How do you want me, then?" He asks, a half-innuendo that makes Cygnet laugh, an odd, creaky noise like the last wails of a dying tree. It's a familiar noise, and little icicles of terror find themself at war with sweet warmth like burning honey in the space between Riff's throat and lungs.
It's nearly rabid the way Cygnet looks at him, one taloned finger tugging at the neck of his black tanktop, the other hand coming to rest on the fabric hiding the soft, lightly-toned meat of Riff's abdomen.
"I want your guts, pet," Cygnet purrs, and Riff shudders. He honestly can't tell what he's feeling now, past the buzzing of his head, the soft too-fast-too-slow thrum of his pulse in his ears blurring everything else together as the drugs turn his thoughts inside out before he has the chance to think them coherently. All Riff knows is that Cygnet is staring at him like he wants him, desires him, craves him, and he'd send the world to spores a thousand times over just for the way it makes warmth curl in his chest.
"O-okay. You can.. you can have me, anything- anything you want, Cygnet," he murmurs, nodding, and despite being so much smaller, the avian is able to quickly push Riff over to lie on his back. He goes easily- there's not much reason not to. Sharp talons rip through his black A-frame, nicking his skin on the way; Riff can feel himself pouting, just a bit.
"I liked that one," He grumbles, and Cygnet giggles airily at him, leaning down to press a kiss where his mustache meets his cheek.
"It's just the same as all your other ones, Riff."
"Yeah, I like those ones too."
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