I have a fic in the works that I am frothing at the mouth over and wish to share with someone so if you would like to hear about my Grian-centric modern hero/villain AU that has Minecraft mechanics that only Grian knows about, Rich Grian, minor Watcher Grian, minor Grian as a time-ascending godlike entity (compared to the other characters) who can move from servers at will (though the fic mostly takes place in the one), Arianna Griande, Cuteguy, a little Poultry Man, and MAJOR Builder Grian, a fic that includes supporting characters such as:
Major Characters
Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo
Good Times With Scar (+Hotguy)
Philza Minecraft (+Crowfather)
Characters Between Major And Minor
Jimmy Solidarity Gaming
Technoblade
Dream
Joel Smallishbeans
Kristen (+Goddess Of Death)
Minor Characters
Quackity
Wilbur Soot
Tommy Innit
Tubbo Underscore
Ranboo Beloved
Fundy
Lizzie LDShadowLady
Mentioned Characters
Mexican Dream (Quackity)
Blopwobbel (from Wilbur Soot streams/videos)
Tarii (from Wilbur Soot streams/videos)
Orelii (from Wilbur Soot streams/videos)
Wolfclaw Gaming (from Wilbur Soot streams/videos)
More is 100% going to be added later as I get more inspiration and/or watch different Hermnitcraft perspectives, but at the moment, this is most of it!! Please ask me about this fic I am begging you for an excuse send an ask send a dm and I’ll go for hours
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happy halloween! this is an idea me and stiff were talking about last night and of course I forgot about it until the very last minute soo
“your costume is stupid, by the way.”
jimmy squawks in surprise, almost falling over his own feet as he stumbles backwards from the voice. he knows even before he looks that it’s joel—who else would go out of their way to let him know that his ‘costume’ is stupid. he can’t decide whether or not to be offended by this—after all, it isn’t even a costume.
every halloween, jimmy has debated going as his true form- as a canary, and every halloween, jimmy has backed out and gone in one of the cheap costumes he found at the corner shop. after all, what if people found out that he is a canary? what would they think if they knew they had an omen of death in their house? maybe they’d connect the dots, just as jimmy has, and they’d realise that jimmy is more than just clumsy- than just unlucky.
but this halloween, jimmy confessed about being unsure whether to wear his ‘costume’ or just use the same dracula one that still has pizza stains from last year. joel being joel, of course, told him that it’s no use getting het up about some silly old costume, and that he should wear what he wants. (joel also said he’d look dumb either way, but it was said with love and jimmy is choosing to ignore it.)
and so.. here he is. in all his canary glory. big ol’ omen of death, ready to bring all his friends to their graves. this was a very bad idea.
“I thought you said to wear what I wanted?” jimmy says, with a distinct lack of the indignation he was trying to muster.
“yeah but- canaries aren’t scary.” joel (who has come as a werewolf this year—tail, ears and everything) is grinning. there’s a distinct fondness to it that seems entirely unconscious, and jimmy can’t exactly take the attempted insult to heart.
“yes they are!” jimmy scowls. that kind of thinking is going to get joel killed someday. “besides, it’s not like youroutfit is scary either.”
joel splutters, and jimmy can’t help the snort at how offended he looks. “wh- i’m a wolf! i’m so scary!”
“you look more like a puppy.” jimmy teases. “you’re less scary and more.. cute.”
joel’s jaw drops and jimmy laughs. it’s been so long, he realises, since he’s been able to laugh so genuinely about something.
“okay, mr canary.” joel says, folding his arms. “at least dogs can actually hurt you.”
the nickname of ‘mr canary’ hits jimmy like a smack in the face. “canaries mean that death is coming. they’re dangerous- more dangerous than a dog.”
joel scoffs. “lad- canaries stop death. they actually prevent danger.”
it’s as if all the air has been knocked out of jimmy’s lungs. “they- they what?” he manages.
“they stop death.” joel repeats, gentler. he’s clearly confused as to why this elicited such a reaction from jimmy, but he keeps going. “y’know they- when they’re in the mines, they warn the miners of gas, so the miners can get out before they all die. canaries stop death.”
and- fuck. he had it so wrong all this time. all these years of fearing for the lives of his friends simply because he was with them, all these years of believing that his very existence was a curse to those around him, all these years of hating who he was..
it was all a lie.
canaries stop death.
“so see, your costume is-“
joel doesn’t manage to finish his sentence because jimmy is upon him, burying his face in joel’s hair, wrapping his arms around him, tears pouring down his face. all this time, all this time.
“thank you.” jimmy whispers through his grief.
“‘course dude.” joel whispers back, his own voice breaking a little. what a sap. “I, uh- it isn’t a costume, is it?”
“how could you tell?” jimmy laughs a little, and he’s still crying, but he’s so happy.
“just- just a hunch.” joel jokes back, squeezing him tighter. “do you- do you wanna go somewhere a little more private, or are you cool to sob in front of the punch bowl a bit more?”
jimmy snorts as he pulls back and wipes his eyes. “the punch should be left alone in this time of crisis.”
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So I’m having a thought.
I’m almost to Lemuria now, and one of the things that’s struck me about arc 4 so far is how quiet it is. There’s so many places where I click on something and there’s no narration, even though it feels like there should be. I know why, obviously. Grandmother Raven retired to the Husk with Spider, the Wizard is on their own.
I just wonder how that feels for them!
You spend your very traumatic formative years with a literal goddess on your shoulder, and then suddenly that’s just gone. You’re completely on your own, stuck with a very important universe preserving job at a really tender age! If you graduate Ravenwood at 18 like most assume, that makes the Wizard in their early 20’s ish by arc 4. And as someone who is currently 21,
Yikes
If I, a player on the other side of the fourth wall feels the loss of Raven this much, just imagine how the Wizard feels!
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Wild that anytime I post an update a lot of people read it and are even excited about it and have their own thoughts and reactions to it that I'll never know.
Comments are only the very tip of the iceberg with it. And I am Very grateful to commenters for letting me in on it. But in the same way that I'll be excited with my friends when a fic we love updates, it's likely that Other people enthuse with Their friends when my fic updates. And it's just so strange. An experience I'll never have access to.
Everyone's relationship with my fic is unique. So many different people with so many different circumstances and preferences... and the number of people that have told me that my fic is one of their favorites, some even saying it's their Favorite favorite... every single one of them have their own relationship with my writing.
It's just interesting to me. I think and think and think on my writing. I have my plans for basically the entire fic, the way I want it to end already thought out, all the major plot beats and the relationship progressions, All of that thought out. I love my writing so very much, but I'm on the inside looking out. This is my mechanical horse, and I'm in here laying out the groundwork and pulling levers and constructing limbs, puttering away making the horse move. Forever and always, my relationship with it will be more intimate than anyone's, and yet more clinical. Because I know it better than the back of my own hand, but I'll never have the experience of reading it fresh. Of reading it without knowing everything that's going to happen from now to the end and beyond. I won't have the thrill of the plot twists I have planned, the delight at seeing things progress, the horror at seeing things go wrong...
This is my mechanical horse, and I'm making it move.
I just always wonder what it must be like to see it from the outside. I hope to others that it's a pretty horse.
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