#Strange owl-talon-creature??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

allthenamesithinkofaretaken · 1 year

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Hey, if youre currently taking requests that isnt for TWaA, may i request a fic with Death and a gender neutral crow harpy reader?

Like reader has the wings, has the feathers, the talons and all. Theyre like the symbol of death, but they dont reap souls like death does. People just see them as the symbol of death, the more seen version rather than death who is usually hidden to people. People see them more than death (like actually see them, they cant really hide like death does) and people see them as this creepy strange creature that signals death. Death's companion or something

But in actuality, they hang out around large crowded areas because its easier to steal things from there (especially shiny ones) and they bring their stolen items to death because they love him and hes so <3333

Trinkets

Muerte/Death x GN! Reader

Hellooo! Long time no see! This was very fun to write, I imagined that the MC is more like Harpy Eda from The Owl House except more crow like.

Also, I unfortunately won't be able to do all the requests, I'll be leaving a few ones undone but I promise I'll finish them someday. That's because I thought I had more time during the week but I got sick and my Interiors prof had us design another bedroom so... Yeah. Hope you enjoy!

The wind in their hair, the coolness of it against their skin as they glided with the clouds in the sky, their fingers combing through the white fluff before diving down, their wings folding on their back as they did before they opened them again and landed gracefully on a nearby castle tower.

Grabbing onto the flagpole perched on the tip of the tower’s cone roof, a slight shriek escaped them as their clawed feet slipped through cone roof’s sloped sides before finally managing to get a grip and looking wistfully on the horizon, the kingdom they had dropped on looking beautiful from this height.

“I could get used to a view like this,” they huffed, eyes wistfully looking from the horizon to the familiar presence that entered. Muerte grinned up at them from the balcony of the king and queen’s room, and they slid down the roof and onto his side in no time.

“Muerte,” they greeted with a grin, leaning against the side of the railings.

“(Y/n),” Muerte greeted back, leaning back from his perch against the railings and letting his gaze fall to the door of the royal bedroom. “You’re lucky the king and queen aren’t in their rooms,” he huffed, “How’d you know no one was here?”

“I didn’t,” they grinned, which earned them a reprimanding look from the wolf. “Hey, I’ve had my fair share of trouble, I can handle it if there were any guards on sight.”

“That doesn’t make me worry any less for you,” Muerte sighed with a shake of a head, his hands already unsheathing his sickles from his leather belt. “You’re not immortal, you know.”

At the sight of the worry in his eyes, the amused look they had immediately fell away, a soft sigh pushing past their lips before raising a hand up to cup Muerte’s cheek, giving him a soft peck on the lips. “Alright, alright, I promise I’ll try and stay out of trouble this time, mi lobo de la muerte.”

They pulled away from him with a gentle smile, and the worry creases on his face disappeared just the slightest, and they could see the sight of his smile pulling at his lips. “You know I also mean no more stealing, right?”

“Uh, sorry what was that?” Muerte huffed at their antics, watching as they slowly backed away from him and onto the top of the balcony’s railings. He repeats what he said, and they let out a hiss and a slight shrug, “Ooh, okay, I think I got most of that but…”

He gave them a warning glare.

“Sorry, my ears are already getting wind logged and I can’t hear you!”

“(Y/n)—”

They jumped off the railings, their body disappearing before they flew up into the sky.

“Love you Muerte! I’ll see you later!”

The wolf could only sigh and shake his head. Watching with mild amusement as they flew to the town, probably to do what they do best.

Cause trouble.

That was something they were more familiar with other than joining Muerte when he reaped souls. And since he had some sort of cloaking magic that he could turn on any time and they didn’t, a lot of people had started to associate them with death because of their presence and Muerte’s always being so close to each other. Normally, they didn’t mind it much when people feared them for the symbolism. It gave them some sort of immunity toward hunters that wanted them dead, and that was because a lot of the people had started to look at them like some sort of warning for death, and as much as they feared them, they also, in some sense, searched for them.

Either way.

“Ay dios mio,” they swore they could hear some of the townsfolk muttering under their breaths as they swooped down to find a much better landing spot, eyes raking across the buildings until they spotted a nearby dark alleyway. When they landed, they wrapped their coat around their shoulders and threw the hood over their head, making sure to tuck away any stray feathers and hiding their wings behind their back.

The walk to the market was as usual, unbearable and completely uncomfortable with the way their wings were completely pressed to their back as if someone had wrapped a string around their body. But if it would keep people from flocking over to them, they supposed they could deal with it for a little while.

The sounds of people bartering over the prices and the usual sounds of the marketers yelling out their ‘low prices’ wasn’t unusual to hear this late in the afternoon, a grin tugging up their lips at the sight of beautiful jewelry that laced one particular stall at the side, their feet stopping in their tracks, not minding the way some people began to curse at them for halting in the middle of the path.

One jewelry in particular caught their attention.

It was silver, the only one in the bunch, but what made it catch their attention was the very familiar wolf the silver pendant was carved into. A wolf’s head, its eyes made out of circular rubies, with the familiar sickles beside each cheek. It reminded them of the crossbones that were often seen on the flags of pirate ships, except it was him, Muerte.

They reached a hand out to touch it, too enthralled by its beauty that the owner of the stall had smacked their hand away before they could think of touching it.

“Ow! Hey!”

“Don’t touch it unless I know you’re going to buy it!”

“I just want to get a closer look at it, is that so bad?”

The seller grabs it from its perch, holding it closer to his chest with a glare. “If you want to get a closer look at it, then you gotta buy it first.”

They couldn’t believe the gall—

The stall shook, and the owner let out a gasp as some of the jewelry fell to the ground with a satisfying sound that seemed to echo in their mind like a temptress, especially with the way the light glinted against its shiny surface.

The sound of the owner yelling at the person that bumped into the stall was a mere background noise when they spotted the pendant just a few feet away, a grin tugging on their lips at the sight of the owner not paying them any mind any longer and taking it as a chance to snatch it off the stall, their wings unfurling from behind their back, ready to take off.

“You better— hey!”

They didn’t bother turning back when they lifted off the sky, their laugh echoing in the sky as the noise of the entire market fell into a hush as their heads turned to the sky, watching their flying form disappear over the clouds.

---

“Muerte!”

“You better not have done the thing I told you exactly not to do,” there was an exhausted tone to the wolf’s voice, and the crow merely gave a sheepish grin as they paused in their tracks, their arms hidden behind their back.

“Uh,” they stuttered, “Not really?”

Muerte gave them a look that told them he wasn’t believing any of the words that had come out of their mouths. He may not be some sort of ‘all-knowing’ deity, but he didn’t need to be when it came to them. They should’ve known that.

He knew them like the back of his hand.

“I got you a gift?”

Muerte sighed, unable to hold the smile that tugged up his lips as he pats the empty space beside him, their eyes brightening up in response as they didn’t hesitate to tell what happened that day.

#puss in boots #puss in boots death x reader #puss in boots the last wish #death x reader #muerte x reader #puss in boots death #puss in boots the last wish x reader #death the wolf #pib:tlw #fanfic #puss in boots x reader #puss in boots the last wish muerte #puss in boots the last wish muerte x reader #puss in boots the last wish death x reader

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thespiritbee · 15 days

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The Zeroverse - Hybrids!

Thinking so much of The Zeroverse (An Original World built with @nyanbadger) right now so I'm making a post about one of the many species of Terra! Hybrids!!

Where do they come from?

Hybrids are usually the result of regular humans and humanoids mixing and having children, BUT some are a result of something that occurred a long time ago! Others could also be a result of experimentation or a temporary potion!

Behaviors

Hybrids act like regular people most of the time, after all, most hybrid's human DNA outweighs their hybrid DNA. However, depending on their hybrid part, they may show more "hybrid-like" behavior whenever they're comfortable and/or overwhelmed. This usually happens more often with natural hybrids, but it can happen with experimented hybrids as well!

Examples:

Demon hybrids tend to be more hotheaded

Bird hybrids tend to chirp or attempt to make themselves bigger

Animal hybrids in general tend to make the sounds of their respective animals

Angel hybrids also tend to have softer voices

Physical Traits

MOST hybrids always have some visible trait of their hybrid! Demon hybrids have horns that grow with age (or rage) and some even have tails and wings to match. Demon hybrids also tend to have their horn color as streaks in their hair!

Hybrid features also tend to grow with their person, and some never have clearly visible features until they're adults (Some NEVER have visible hybrid features!) This is most noticeable with hybrids who have very little hybrid blood, or depending on the hybrid.

Most hybrids also are born with their features somewhat visible, like small bumps for horns or strange limbs that'll grow into wings. By the age of 13, most hybrids are easily identifiable and will continue to grow into their features.

Some Hybrids also have more features than others, which nobody has figured out why! Example: Avery (A blonde teenage barn owl hybrid girl, she/her) only has a paler face with a few markings along with the wings of a barn owl and feathers behind her ears, MEANWHILE Snafu (A teenage seagull hybrid, any/all) has wings, feathers behind their ears, birdlike eyes, and even talons! (He's not that short though, he's about 5'6)

Random Hybrid Facts

Bird hybrids are the most common animal hybrids

Experimented hybrids have more noticeable features than their natural counterparts

Hybrids may have "hybrid days" where they indulge in behavior and things that are reminiscent of their respective creature

Hybrids are HIGHLY discriminated against in regular cities. They're seen as less than human (which they're not!)

That's all I have to say for now! Feel free to ask more about them if you've got any questions :D

#The Zeroverse #PLEASE send asks about this #hybrid #thebeesocs #ocs #oc #original character #writers of tumblr #original world #original work #original writing #this world lives rent free in my head #long post

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leahnardo-da-veggie · 4 months

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Dawn

Dawn is a strange word. It's chilly air, goosebumps on fresh skin. It's the eeire silence of a world stirring awake. It's awakening, in every sense of the word.

Dawn is my favourite time. At about 6:45 in the morning, the sun begins to peek out of its horizon. It greets me with grey light, traces of the darkness still lurking within it. I watch its inexorable march towards its apex, the gradual warming of the colours in the sky, the sharpening of the air as nature wakes up. If I blink and look away, I'll find that the sun will have burst out of bed, inflaming the world in a blaze of oranges and blues.

That is when I take my dog for a walk, in the moment between day and night, between dreams and reality. Some say the witching hour lies at midnight. Other opine that it is 3 am. But I maintain that the witching hour is dawn. There is nothing more magical than the Aubade of the night, Daybreak's serenade by the creatures of darkness.

Watch the owl flap away in a flurry of talons and feathers. Bid the bat farewell as it settles beneath the fronds of a tree. Listen, rapt, as the crickets and cicadas sing their codas. This is dawn, the fading of the yesterday and the beginning of the now all rolled into an instant.

And before you know it, the dawn will break. It will shatter, whisked away by the day like leaves in the wind. I walk my dog and blink again, and morning will rush in, made of rush hour commuters and screeching preschoolers. That hallowed tranquility will implode in fireworks of vitality and life.

And I will pause in mourning of the morning, of the serene silence and the dawn.

#writing #creative writing #short story #my writing #Vent #descriptive writing #nonfiction story #my favourite things

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lunarfeat21 · 2 years

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Darktober 10: Owl

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Prey items are scarce during the brutal winter,

silently glided with such speed & agility for a snowy owl like him and Optimus. His beloved, dear Optimus, back in the kingdom brooding a single egg in the royal nursery.

Despite his mate and Emperor being stuck with maternal duties, Ratchet couldn't help but wonder how Emperor Optimus overcompensated and won a piece of stolen land from the Decepticons.

A flutter of feathers announced their presence, Ratchet heard them thanks to his cloak that transformed him to a snowy owl harpy.

Using his sharp hearing, he can pin-point the source of the sound, which is located in a barred field with little skeletons of bushes. Everything seems fine, minus the strange tracks of some creature leading near a bush, and to his delight, he finally find food. A white ptarmigan walking while it was unaware of the silent aerial predator spreading his talons.

The loud snap of bones shattered the stilled cold air, a devastating blow to the neck and head. There laid the ptarmigan, stuffed and blood dyed the snow.

"Poor thing," Ratchet mused at the dead grouse before examining the corpse "if Necaridere weren't such a thing, we wouldn't have to slaughter you inferior beings for not finding an owner. But alas, you wild Cloaks do have another worthy purpose: to feed my mate and our would-be future heir."

With cold smile, he bit down the food. As he did so, the ptarmigan sprang to life as it wriggled to fight for its life. Most would be surprised and let their assumed dead prey go, Ratchet isn't so.

In fact, he enjoyed the feeling of living prey in his mouth as the ptarmigan's blood soaked his chin and dripped to his chest feathers. He would lavishly spend his time tormenting the creature, however, he had to put them aside as he should return to feed Optimus.

He smiled maliciously as the bird looked weaker and grew weaker until it stopped. His chin stained in blood, he leaped into the air and now headed back to the kingdom with food.

#transformers prime #tfp ratchet #darktober2022 #darktober #tw dead animal #lunarfeat's art #optiratch #Magic Learners 'n' Seekers au

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barovianbitches · 7 months

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Sticks and Stones - Bettany Blackstarr

“I HATE IT HERE!” Bettany screamed, The six-year-old had marched into the cottage and thrown his school bag onto the floor with a clatter. In the kitchen, Hazuleth and Arteana jumped at the commotion, turning their large feathered heads toward the arrival of their fuming son.

Hazuleth was the first to note several large welts speckled on his pale skin, Arteana was more concerned with his tattered trousers and muddied shirt. “Oh, little one, what happened?” Hazuleth asked, setting down her rolling pin as she hurried towards her son, attempting to cup his face in her hands. Bettany pouted, angrily stepping away, tears brimming in his butterscotch-golden eyes.

“I’m never going to school again!” Bettany stated, huffing before marching towards the stairs and loudly stomping to his bedroom on the second floor. The two women could hear the door slam behind him, as the ivy vines that grew around the house wilted slightly.

Arteana cast a bitter look at Hazuleth, returning to the kitchen to do the dishes. “I told you sending him to school was a bad idea.”

Hazuleth scoffed, “He’s a sharp boy, dear, There was only so much the two of us could have taught him- he was already out-reading the two of us combined when he was four years old!”

Arteana turned to Hazuleth, throwing her hands in the air, “his education wasn’t why I didn’t want him to go!” she snapped, “Come off it, Hazuleth! You and I both know that others find him strange!”

Hazuleth frowned, setting down her cookware once again to cross her arms and look at Arteana. “The town accepts him, everyone in the village pays him no mind, he’s our son.” Arteana hooted, “Come on, you’d have to be a bloody idiot to think that. People talk behind closed doors, dear. While they allow him to live here, there’s no doubt in my mind that they’d rather not have a little druid human boy running around in their village. The town and the elders accept him, sure, but they don’t like him.” Hazuleth clicked her beak, her feathers ruffling with annoyance, “Oh hogwash.”

The snowy owl slammed the wooden spoon she’d been scrubbing into the sink, turning towards her wife.

“It is confirmed by how the children treat him… why else would children be so cruel to another child had their parents not instilled that value in them? The children act how their parents talk behind closed doors” Arteana insisted, “for the gods’ sake, people talk and children listen.”

Hazuleth bristled before sighing in surrender, “You’re right… It just breaks my heart to see him treated this way.” Hazuleth’s head tilted towards the ceiling where the sounds of Bettany slamming and clanking around his bedroom could be heard from above.

Arteana took a deep breath, “I’ll talk to him,” she said as she made to leave.

“No,” Hazuleth held up a taloned hand, stopping Arteana, “let me handle this, dear.”

Arteana hesitated, but eventually caved with a curt nod, returning to her task as Hazuleth began to scale the cork-screw staircase.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛯☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Hazuleth knocked softly on Bettany’s door, he didn’t respond- but the furious scuttering behind the door confirmed that he was in fact in his bedroom. Hazuleth closed her beak and turned the handle, stepping into her son’s room.

Bettany’s room was a reflection of who he was, small but vibrant.

Projects lay strewn about in varying stages of completion. That being said, the room wasn’t in disarray, it was an organized chaos of sorts. Bookshelves lined the walls, a ladder leading to his bed which was nested atop one of the larger bookstacks near the room’s large domed window. A large plant stretched its thin rooty tendrils down from the ceiling, its berries casting a lovely golden glow.

The walls that weren't covered floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves were covered in drawings. Bettany was a shy boy and seldom shared his illustrations with anyone, they instead ended up on his walls. Charcoal sketches of plants, fungi, trees, and various creatures Bettany had found exploring the bordering Neverwinter Wood collected in his room.

Hazuleth felt her heart swell as her eyes fell onto a picture Bettany had drawn that was clearly of himself, Arteana, and her.

Hazuleth was quickly distracted by the sound of a large object slapping on the oak floors. Bettany had moved a large rucksack out of his closet and had begun hurling clothes, paper, leather, and anything else he could get his chubby hands on.

“I’m not going back, I give up. From now on I’m going to go live in the woods with my friends.” Bettany didn’t look at her, instead focusing on shoving multiple day’s worth of clothing into a wicker basket.

Hazuleth frowned, she knew that her son’s “friends” were a myriad of potted plants that he kept in his bedroom. These plants had grown astronomically in size, their roots curving out of their terracotta containers and curling on the floor in massive tubes, their leaves and flowers had become the size of dinner plates. Most noticeable was how the once dainty rose now filled up an entire corner of the room, its stem thick with thorns the size of longswords, the sharp points threatening to skewer anything that got close to it. Despite how nerve-racking these plants had become, Hazuleth chose to pay it no mind- this sort of thing happened when Bettany got agitated. Plants seemed to follow his lead, mirroring whatever strong emotion he was feeling.

“I understand,” Hazuleth sighed, sitting down and helping Bettany pack, much to his surprise.

“Your friends would absolutely love the open air, the fresh breeze? Oh, it’d be paradise!” Hazuleth chirped, “But I worry they might get cold… what if they get hungry and can’t find something to eat?”

Bettany froze, halting in his mission as he turned to Hazuleth, “They photosynthesize for their food.” he squeaked.

Hazuleth nodded, “Of course, my mistake… still, what if they get lonely? What if they miss their pots and the other plants they know?” Bettany bit his lip, frowning.

“Maybe they’d realize that when things get tough it’s nice to have a place you can belong?” Hazuleth turned Bettany’s chin to face her.

“I don’t think you’re talking about my plants anymore, Ma,” Bettany noted. “You’re such a smart boy, little one,” Hazuleth laughed, clucking as she took in her son’s big golden eyes gleaming in contrast to his pale face and dark hair, “So handsome as well.”

Bettany’s face darkened as memories from earlier that evening returned to him, “They don’t think so… they think I’m a freak. Zombie Boy they called me… because I was almost dead when you found me. They said I still look dead, like a walking corpse…” Bettany’s eyes filled with tears as he started to pack his bags again. Hazuleth grabbed a hold of his hands, gently restraining him from further packing.

“They said I should’ve died,” Bettany whimpered, “that I’d be better off as dust.” Hazuleth felt her heart break into pieces for her boy, and she pulled him in tight, slowly rocking him back and forth in her arms.

“Oh, my child…” Hazuleth spoke over his shoulder. Her beak clicked as she pondered her response

“You make the world better, my Bettany.” Hazuleth soothed, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. He sniffed and didn’t meet her eyes until his chin was tilted up by a feathered hand. “You are strong… you are a survivor. You are anything but a corpse, you are alive, my son.” Hazuleth insisted, her eyes crinkling upwards as she gazed upon Bettany.

“You’re alive.”

#lore #Bettany #Bettany Blackstarr #backstory #Owl Moms #child bettany

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crescentblossom66 · 2 years

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A hat in time writing prompts: Prompt 5 Joint

It was a very quiet and rainy afternoon in the Mafia HQ, all in all a pretty normal day, aside from one thing, or better for one strange creature.

“Mafia thank eyeless bird for the purchase. Have a good day despite rain.” The yellow owl took the bottle off the counter and turned around, the eyes of all the burly man were on him as he walked. The Conductor was used to this already, but it still very much annoyed him that everyone glared at him like he was some kind of circus attraction.

“What? Have ye lads never seen a bird buy scotch before?” They turned away and started to mingle among themselves, to his right he could hear someone say:

“That thing is bird, looks more like strange dinosaur.” The comments on his left were not much better.

“Mafia never seen bird with teeth before, also where are eyes?”

They probably thought that he couldn't hear their rude whispers, however they sorely underestimated the amazing hearing of an owl. His ear-like feathers twitched in anger, he made a fist with the free talon, just about remembering that he still had the bottle in the other. Shattering the reason why he came here in the first place would only make his day worse than it already was. He hated rain, it made his feathers look and feel horrible, never mind the fact that they'd take ages to dry, and he already had to walk through it to get here. That stupid geyser the HQ was floating on that had splashed water on him as he was looking for the cannon that would get him up here also didn't help!

If he had more time he would beat those dimwitted, bald peck necks black 'n' blue, however he still needed to get back to Dead Bird Studio to fill out some important documents. Among which was some idiotic lawsuit due to endangerment or something. It was probably because of the owl that got hurt due to a tiny amount of acid still being on the floor of one of wagons from filming 'Train Rush', why did they always have to make such a scene because of a little bit of pain, if only they could act half as well as they complained. He would just throw the lawsuit together with the huge number of bills in the basement, out o' sight out o' mind.

He left the insufferable and dry environment for one that was insufferable, cold and WET! He growled as he jumped down form the platform, the cold air and rain making him shiver, as he fell down onto the main part of the town. All of this peckery for a bottle of scotch, he really contemplated if all of this was worth it, and found that it was not, when he heard a loud scream that made him flinch and almost drop the bottle.

It sounded like a young girl, probably as old as the lassie, but it wasn't her, not the bow-wearing lass either. Well, it wasn't his problem, just some kid getting' hurt nothing that should concern him. He slowly walked back toward the harbor to take the ship back to the desert.

He subconsciously listened for the sound to come back, while he clutched his bottle tight. It wasn't his problem, just a random kid that got injured after doing something dumb, happens everyday... That's when he picked up on the quiet whining and sobbing.

“Fer peck's sake!” Why? Just why did his mind torture him with sounds of his grandkids crying right then and there, why did she have to sound so helpless?!

He followed the sounds and almost turned right back around when he found the source to be the same child that had ruined the planet before, making him stand in line for hours, and for what? To be judged for his non-existent crimes, he had never broken a law in his life!

Another part of him chimed in just when he wanted to spin around on his heel and leave, she was just a child, kids make mistakes and learn from them, nobody is born perfect...except him.

He slowly approached the girl that gasped in surprise upon seeing him. She tried to crawl further away, dragging her left leg as she crawled on all four limps, he assumed that was where she was in pain.

“Go away, feather brain! Leave me alone!” His head feathers twitched after the insult, and he had to bite back the anger and the scolding he wanted to give her for just insulting someone, who just wanted to check up on her.

“I ain't 'ere ta hurt ye, lass. Just wanted to find out who was makin' all that ruckus.” The red-hooded girl scoffed.

“Yeah like you care what would become of me. You were one of the people telling me to get lost.” That would be because she turned the whole planet into lava, almost killing everyone on it.

“Well, ye turned the whole planet inta lava and made us go through some kinda death parkour, almost singed me feathers on that!” Both glared at each other Mustache Girl crossed her arms.

“You're a bad guy to me, just like the Mafia.”

“Don't ye dare lump me together with that lot! Those burly peck necks cannae even see that I'm a bird, started gossipin' behind me back like ol' ladies at tea time!” He took a few steps closer and this time Mu didn't move away.

“I know right, they think they're soooo tough pushing a little girl around, they're the reason I hurt my leg!” She rubbed her injured left leg and winced in pain, which caused her to hide her face from the owl, so that he wouldn't notice, however he could see the discomfort it caused her and went to see the injury.

She turned her head back after she felt his talons on her knee, as he examined it carefully. She half expected him to hurt her or to laugh at her, which she knew wasn't out of character for the owl. “Ye dislocated yer kneecap, lassie...I should be able to fix it, but ye should have this looked at by a doctor.” She was surprised at the calm and reasonable tone of the bird, the red-clothed girl yelped a little as he pushed the kneecap back in place, but it felt better now. “Is there a doctor in this shabby town.”

“Hey you're insulting my home town here, feather face. Mafia Town doesn't have a doctor anymore-” Her face fell a little.”-They left after the Mafia took over.” She tried to get up but he pushed her back down.

��Don't put any weight on it, might cause it to dislocate again.-” He let out a deep sigh, “-Guess I have no choice but to carry ye, cannae leave ye alone out 'ere now, can I.” Could this day get any worse, he was drenched from the rain, got ridiculed by Mafia Goons, and now his back would probably ache horribly tomorrow, as he had to take the red-hooded lass all the way back to Dry Talon City to get her knee checked.

“What? You're...you'll help me?” He just turned around and ducked down a little.

“Stop wastin' time and hop on. If we miss the ship I throw ye inta the water.” She wiped away the tears that made their way onto her face. Maybe this yellow owl...thingie wasn't such a bad guy after all.

#a hat in time #ahit writing prompts #ahit fanfic #ahit conductor #ahit mustache girl

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mcalhenwrites · 1 year

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Last year, I started making a horror story up on the spot on twitter. With twitter in bad shape, I’m transferring the text from this thread to a post here so I don’t lose it. (I have also remembered to back it up elsewhere, don’t worry.) I usually don’t post stories without having them on scrivener/word, but in this case... no. This is not finished. It is horror. In second person. I’m going to reblog occasionally with continuations added. Also, it has no title. ~*~ When you look out the window at night, everything looks normal. You don't see all the strange things that are watching you intently. They're waiting for the right time, their spindly fingers curled around the window ledge, sixteen hungry eyes appraising your flesh. Sometimes you hear what sounds like a talon running down the length of the screen. When you look, there are dozens of lacewings frantically trying to get in. Something wet suddenly darts out from the dark, like the tongue of a frog, and snatches them up, one by one. You bravely slam the window closed and flip the latch. The wind outside dies. The scraping against the screen intensifies. Metal tears, popping aside like a shirt's buttons being undone, one at a time. You can't see anything. Just the way the screen folds away. The latches turn by some unseen power. The window lifts slowly as far as it can go. You hear what sounds like something stomping into the room. Near the source of each thunderous step, dead lacewings - now suddenly visible - slough off like the feathers of a molting bird. A face emerges as another layer of lacewings shed. Its like part of an old oak tree, its gnarled branches curling into teeth, its eye sockets like owls peeping in the dark. You reach behind you to feel for the doorknob. You don't dare look away. Its jaws open wide. You swing the door open just as you get a whiff of its breath, which smells like a rain-chilled autumn day. Wet wood and leaves. You make a dash for it. Every step the monster takes shakes the house and sounds like branches snapping in a tornado. Windows burst, sending glass sprinkling in your wake. The stairs. You must reach the stairs. Water rushes across the carpet as the creature belches behind you, its body raking against the walls as it pursues you. The front door waits at the base of the stairs. Almost there. Battling the water at your ankles, the monster close behind, you make it down to the front door. You don't have time to worry if there's another creature outside. Out in the open, there might be places to run. You see an axe lying against a tree in the yard. Run - or fight?

#horror story #continuous horror story #continuous story #original writing

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whitepolaris · 3 months

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Kelly Creatures

Another famous alien encounter in Kentucky occurred on August 21, 1955, in the small rural community of Kelly, just outside Hopkinsville. Elmer "Lucky" Suttonand his family, as well as their houseguest, Billy Ray Taylor, claimed to have been invaded by large alien creatures.

It began when Taylor saw strange lights in the sky around seven p.m. He tried to tell the Suttons about what he'd seen, but no one paid much attention to his story.

About an hour later Taylor and Sutton went outside to investigate why the family dog was barking. As they tell it, what they then encountered was an enormous humanoid figure with elephantine but pointed ears, luminous eyes, and unthinkably horrible hands with long, pendulous webbed feet and sharp talons. The creature was metallic silver, but they could not determined whether this was its skin or some sort of protective clothing.

Taylor and Sutton's response was, of course, to do the logical thing one days when finding an intruder (metallic or otherwise) on one's rural Kentucky property in the 1950s. They grabbed their guns and started shooting at it. As they opened fire, the creature did somersaults in the air and cartwheeled itself off into the wilderness.

While the two men were discussing whether or not they had wounded the intruder, and debated about whether to go in search of it, another taloned hand form another creature reached down from the porch roof above them. They shot this one too, only to spot a third beast in a nearby tree. Gradually, more of the creatures trudged toward their home, clawing at the doors and peeking in the windows, in what sounds like a scene from Night of The Living Dead, if the dead were aliens. For several hours that evening, the family held the creatures at bay, firing round after round of bullets at them with seemingly no permanent effect.

Running out of ammunition by eleven p.n., the besieged group made a break for their cars and sped to the Hopkinsville Police Department. After they had convinced the sheriff that something bizarre was going on, a posse composed of local and state police, press, and citizens descended on the Sutton farm. The creatures were nowhere to be found, and the only evidence left to prove they had been there was a luminous spot on the ground where one of them had been shot.

After the search was called off at two fifteen in the morning, the family reportedly attempted to calm down and tried to get some sleep. But later that morning cops, detectives, reporters, and curious citizens converged on the scene. Again, no tangible evidence of the alien invasion was found, and the luminous spot had vanished. Bullet holes from the men's gunfire abounded in and around the house, and researchers would note later that even for the sake of a hoax, a poor family could ill afford to have shot out their own windows and caused so much damage to their own property.

The ensuing media circus embarrassed the family, who sought no profit from their story and quickly clammed up about the whole matter to the press or anyone else. If it was a hoax, it was an extremely elaborate one between seven people (including children and church-going grandmother) that seemed to serve no purpose but to make it accessories miserable for years.

As if often the case in such matters, skeptics' attempts to explain the Kelly incident are usually as outlandish-sounding as the event itself and often require an extreme degree of mental gymnastics to convince oneself of the explanation. One such theory claimed that the entire family mistook owls for aliens!

IN the years since, the legend of the Kelly creatures has snowballed into an iconic myth that the local people no longer shun, but celebrate: They hold a Little Green Men Festival every year to commemorate the incident and draw worldwide attention to the area as a key location in any UFO buff's vacation travel itinerary.

#weird kentucky #type read

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shimmerbeasts · 3 months

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Constellations

Ahri was left out of breath as she sprinted up the hill. Stopping at the edges of the forest, which overlooked the town the Vastayashai'rei had just fled, she allowed herself a moment to take in the air. Her slim chest, barely concealed by a pair of perky breasts, rose and fell and her breath clouded like frost in the air. The aftertaste of the soul, she had taken, still flooded her senses. Sweet like honey, Ahri would have taken that much more, had it not been for a hunter's dog barking and coming for her. Human body or not, it seemed those wretched creatures would always be able to sniff out the fox within her.

Even now Ahri could hear its hoarse barking travelling up the hill as it tried to catch her fleeting scent trail. The vixen had overstayed her welcome, and with this calculation, Ahri dipped into the depths of the forest. She liked being in nature more than being in the cities anyhow. A cool night breeze carried petals and with them, the smell of apple trees. The grass underneath her blackened, clawed feet was moist and cool.

Long, snow-white tail split into nine tails, swaying back and forth, as Ahri continued to wander around. Her black, pointy ears, jutting out of her obsidian hair, caught the quiet rustle and prattling of the animal folks, and her yellow eyes could make out the smallest critters, climbing among the branches above her or skampering through the bushes beside her.

Above her, cut into pieces by the tree branches, glistened the stars. The sun had started to set by the time, Ahri had bolted away from the town. The vixen stopped in her wandering and peered up into the sky. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she idly inhaled the air, smelling the pines. Her pink lips puckered into a winning smile. Opening her yellow eyes again, Ahri stood in awe at the constellations, watching how the frosty white dotted the inky sky above her. She could practically feel how ancient some of these stars had to be.

Ahri's peace was abruptly cut short when she felt a strange wave of magic pass through the area. Her ears swivelled backwards in an attempt to locate potential sounds and the hair at the root of her tail stood up. Something potentially dangerous and magical had just entered her vicinity unannounced. Ahri raised a hand and summoned a blue sphere of energy in her palm, ready to potentially throw it at the attacker and turned around.

What Ahri laid eyes on, was something rather unusual. If she had to guess, she would assume the figure was another Vastayashai'rei. He seemed to be Avian in nature with a dark greyish-black plumage, a snow-white face and two pairs of deep red eyes, which lacked any pupils. His facial features made Ahri think of an owl. He was dressed in a short, ruby-red vest with golden buttons and a pair of grey stocking pants. His arms and legs were blackened much like hers and in his case seemed to end in a pair of talons.

Ahri's yellow eyes narrowed in suspicion and she swiftly wound her nine tails into one thick tail. Balancing the ball of magic in one hand, but not making any move to throw it at the stranger, Ahri inquired: "Is there something I can help you with... Sir?"

Starter for @runes-menagerie

#runesmenagerie #rp: constellations #ill have them chasing their tails: ahri interaction #Default Verse[Ahri]#things changed since you left: queue

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renearatman · 2 years

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The Hawk and the Crow

The crow often flew around the city scouting for any meals he could find, sometimes amongst his other crow peers. They would share stories, share scraps, and besides a few exceptions, the crow was rather happy with his life. One day the crow had flown astray from his flock, and though he circled for a few hundred heartbeats looking for any sign of his fellow blackbirds, he could not find them. Oh well, he thought, tomorrow is another day, and he grasped a telephone wire firmly in his talons and folded his wings. Staring out over the city, he saw chestnut trees adorned with their delicious growths, leathery, barbed hide concealing the meat underneath. Of course, it was no match for the wit of a crow, who would drop it onto the stone paths to be crushed by the large, metallic beasts that drove by, going too fast to notice what they had trampled on, and proceed to claim his prize once the herd had passed. It was a trick he was proud of, and one that had saved him on many a cold night.

He was so comfortable here that he decided to mark this place as just a little bit his, with his back and forth movements of the beak scoring the wire underneath him just a bit. Suddenly a jolt of movement interrupted him, and he nearly lost his balance. He saw sharp talons, and nearly cried out in fear as the words OWL! DANGER! flashed in his mind. But as he looked up, he realized it was not an owl at all, but a hawk, and he looked tired, too. The crow wasn't sure what to do at first, and just stared at the hawk's mottled brown-and-white plumage, his copper eyes, the strange beak curved downward… Eventually, the hawk noticed this, and he lifted his head to meet the crow's gaze.

"You look rather tired there, hawk," the crow commented, "and hungry too." The crow hoped that the hawk would not find him to look particularly tasty at the moment, as the last thing the crow wanted was to be torn to shreds at the mercy of this creature's talons. The hawk straightened himself out and ruffled his feathers as if to show that he was completely fine.

"I am fine," the hawk said in a voice cracking with hunger and thirst, "I've survived days without a meal before… What's one more?" The crow could relate to this; for a month he had been half blinded once by a scab on his eyelid, one which he could not reach with his toes, and he struggled to find food, having crumbs to eat some nights and sleep for dinner on others. The crow understood the hawk's pain and offered to show him how he could get a quick meal from the chestnut trees. The hawk was hesitant, but agreed, and as the sun set and they both filled their bellies with nuts and dove through the air, the crow taught the hawk how to play catch with nuts and stones and the hawk impressed the crow with his flying speed and stories of the hunt.

For many days after this, the crow would leave his flock intentionally to visit the hawk in this same spot, sharing stories and playing together. Despite them being two completely different birds, with completely different beak shapes, plumage and sizes, the crow felt as if his wingspan was not one bit smaller or lesser than the hawk's. He felt appreciated, and always happy to be in the presence of such a magnificent bird. One afternoon the crow was telling the tale of how he had overcome his facial injury, and the hawk listened intently to him. After he concluded with "...And that's why you never go INTO the bush when you're getting blackberries," the hawk nodded and said, "It's really impressive that you find ways to survive despite being… Well, the way that you are." The hawk laughed. The crow laughed with him and said "Thank you!" but something in the back of his mind cried What is that supposed to mean?

One day it took a bit longer than usual for the hawk to reach the telephone wire, and the crow started to worry. Had something happened to him? Had he starved and gotten too weak to fly? The crow's gaze became unable to stay in one place for too long, and soon, so did he, as he hopped from one side of the wire to the other, and then finally he saw the hawk approaching and understood why he had not shown up sooner; he was carrying a ginormous rabbit, almost the same size as the bird carrying it. The hawk flew towards a rooftop and the crow understood to do the same. With his talons clanging on the steel roof, he hesitantly stepped up to the corpse. "You can have some, if you want," the hawk offered, "there's more than enough for both of us." All at once the crow was upon the animal, having not eaten fresh meat since he was a chick.

"How did you even manage to take this creature down? It's almost as big as you!" the crow said when they had half finished the meal. As the hawk explained his tactics, the crow, who had listened and remembered everything up to this point, waited until the hawk had finished before excitedly exclaiming, "Maybe I should help you next time!" The hawk froze. "What?" The crow began to explain. "Well you see, I've been paying a lot of attention to what you've been saying, and I think if I can just get the right angle to-" the hawk cut him off. "No. No, that's… Not how that works. I'm sorry." The crow stood confused, staring puzzled at his friend. "But I didn't even explain how I would do that." The hawk sighed and straightened himself out. "Look, there's not really an easy way to say this, but… You're not cut out for hunting." This time it was the crow who froze, head bent down, beak agape in shock.

"Your talons are not as strong as mine. Your beak will never be as sharp as mine. Your wings aren't as graceful as mine. Your eyesight isn't as clear as mine. You're… Not the greatest when it comes to… Well…" Before the hawk could finish his sentence a loud flapping of wings signaled the departure of the crow, flying away as fast as his dark, drab, short little wings could take him away from that place. His heart flared with anger and pain, feeling betrayed by someone that he trusted so much, spent so much time with, who dared accuse him of being incapable of something so simple as retrieving food! He was more than capable of that. He would show him. He would prove that he deserved every last shred of that rabbit. He would prove that he deserved to feed himself at all.

As he dragged his primaries across the sky, scouring the land for anything that might be good enough to kill, he spotted a white animal that looked round and soft. He dove towards it, recognizing it as a sheep, large enough to put a dent in the rooftop he had stood on before. This didn't deter him, and he instead egged himself on, hoping it would be good enough. I've picked up larger scraps of food before, what's one more?! He extended his talons and hooked them into the fur of the beast, and it hardly even seemed to notice. Satisfied, and sure that this would impress his friend, prove that he was capable, that he was worthy, he tried to lift off only to be answered with a sharp pull on his leg. It was too heavy for him. He was stubborn, unwilling to admit defeat, as he again tugged at the hair of the creature that hardly even knew he was there, much to his frustration.

Eventually, he let go, only to find that he was trapped. His just dessert was served. Panic yanked at his heart as he started flapping helplessly, crying out, to no avail as the hair tangled him more and more, choking him, hurting him, pulling him into positions that no bird should ever be in. He got to the point where he could no longer move whatsoever, so absolutely intertwined with the sheep's wool that it was hard to tell where wool ended and feather began, when out of one eye he could see the hawk perched on the fence. He began to desperately cry out, "Hawk! Please! Help me! I'm sorry! Get me out of here, I won't do it again!" The hawk only stared back, and the crow couldn't tell whether the expression on his face was of pity for his situation or disappointment in the crow's feeble attempt at a hunt.

"I'm sorry, but even if I tried, I can't get you out of this." The crow's heart was absolutely broken. "I told you not to do that, and now look where you are," he continued. "If I tried to free you I'd just get tangled too and then we would both be stuck." The crow closed his eyes, "Please just… Get rid of me," he said. The hawk looked at the ground. The crow pleaded again. "I don't want to keep existing like this." Again, he didn't get a response until a few moments later. "This is why you're not a hawk," the hawk said. That was the last thing the crow ever heard. And then talons sank into his neck and something warm and wet drained from his body, and with it, his past, present and future.

#short story #birds #crows #hawks #tw depressing stuff #tw blood #my writing

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

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Galatea

Yandere(?) Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2410

CW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, slight dehumanization.

...and his creation was so beautiful: silent and non judgemental, pure and demure, it would endure any of his whims of love and passion.

Albedo looks calm as usual as he scoops the honey from the beehive, even though he doesn’t wear any protection; Bees are angrily buzzing nearby, but otherwise not attacking him. It would look strange to you if you didn’t know the answer: insects are not real. The alchemist created them, turning pure slabs of carbon, water and organic matter into tiny fuzzy bodies, as you watched the scene with wide eyes, one moment and a non-living becomes living. He commented on the whole process and while you tried your best to listen to him there were so many scientific terms and jargons in his speech that after some time you zoned out, preferring to observe the birth of insects instead.

There are bones and flesh and organs growing and fusing together. They writhe and convulse as blood starts to fill them. Whose body is it?

“Is this for examination too?”, you remember that Albedo was collecting honey several days ago, albeit in much lesser quantities, and when you asked what the alchemist was doing, he said it was for comparative analysis.

“Well, you could say that” alchemist looks at the full jar and closes the lid, “Previous analysis showed that this honey has the same compounds as the natural one in the same proportions and isn’t dangerous for consumption”. You nod, urging him to continue - even though Albedo isn’t the chattiest person, you noticed how talkative he becomes when you ask him for explanations.

“Smell and taste are usually dependent on the composition, but there is always a place for exceptions, so I decided to conduct another experiment, one that needs your help”

You raise eyebrows - alchemist, despite actually enjoying your company, usually didn’t disclose much of his work :“Is that so? How can I help?”

Small smile appears on his lips, subtle and controlled, “I want you to taste it”. He looks happy.

You have seen that smile long before. You can’t remember where.

You hate sweets, but there's something stopping you from declining. It's bone-deep and chilling, woven into every fiber of your flesh. You can’t get out the needed words, even if you wanted, with your lips somehow shutting tight at the mere thought. There's something stopping you from saying "no" to Albedo and you assume it's gratitude.

***

The honey turns out to be as sickly sweet as the one from the real bees. You frown, as you take another sip of tea, trying to wash down the saccharine taste from the tongue. Albedo sits in front of you and scribes something in his notebook, throwing occasional glances at you from time to time.

“It seems that we’ll need to keep this secret from Klee” you muse, no longer tasting the nectar on your tongue.

“Why so?” he asks, still writing - his handwriting is too small for you to see from this distance. You could stretch your neck to have a better glimpse, but it would be rude to do, so you refrain, curiosity still nipping at you.

“Well, you know what a big sweet tooth she is, and if she learns that your bees don’t sting...”

“But they do sting, just not me”.

“Why?”

“Bees were created with my will, so they just can’t. It’s against the nature of alchemical creation to oppose its creator”

You hum, processing the new information and guessing how far he would teach you that in your own alchemy lessons. You are far behind Sucrose or Timaeus in your studies, still stuck on basics, but Kreideprinz doesn't look displeased or bored with you. In contrast, mentoring you is something he really likes, judging by the rare smiles he allows himself to show. He proposed to teach you one day and you couldn't find it in yourself to turn him down.

You thought it was strange at first how the recluse seemed to favour you, but then as you familiarized yourself with a man you realized that he liked all things unseen and unheard before and your selective amnesia must be the one.

There are large gaps in your memory, but you can remember some small moments - peeking into a cave and plunging deeper into a forest out of curiosity, spending hours in the library, completely captivated by the book before you, feeling satisfied from finally solving an advanced math problem.

None of the memories include people.

It's an identity forming memories, Albedo theorized when you shared your concerns, experiences shape who we are, [First], and maybe that's why you retained them, they define you.

Were you as reclusive as him then?

A bit later you see what Albedo was drawing: a familiar bird and decapitated head. You are disturbed - how does he know my dreams?

***

Mondstadtians are weird, it’s the first time you leave Albedo’s lab and side, deciding to take a quick stroll around the city and look around. Some look at you with wide eyes, as if you just grew a second head before their eyes, some shamelessly whisper things to each other.

The knight that was assigned to look after you for the duration of the walk is no better than them. He also treats you like some sort of oddity, with all that persistent glances and hesitancy to interact with you.

What kind of person old you were to prompt such a reaction?

Walking along the streets of the city you can't remember any of it. Books that mentioned amnesia and other memory related issues stated that visiting once familiar places can help with overall recollection. Walking along the streets of the city you can't recollect any of it, memories slipping past your fingers like water.

You can’t remember the blue cloudless sky above, or the deep clear lake of the same shade or the gentlest breezes playing with your hair. You can’t recall the bright red roof tiles, or the giant windmills that dwarf other buildings, or the statue of the anemo archont overseeing the city. You can't think of once being among the other idle citizens, of praying and worshipping Barbatos, of participating in the windtrace or Ludi Harpastum. There’s emptiness where a familiarity should be, a dull ache rotting and festering at the back of your mind - I don’t belong here, I never did.

You don’t feel like a part of Mondstadt, not even a single part of you does. There’s an invisible yet unbreakable wall separating you from other people. You can smile and chat and be all polite and nice, yet there’s always a certain coldness and caution others treat you with. You want to be both accepted and left alone, feel loved yet be distant enough to avoid any emotional hurt.

Of course, there are people who managed to get close to you - Albedo and Klee, with the former one being your official caretaker and mentor and the latter being as bright as the Sun, you doubt there’s anyone that couldn’t fall under little girl’s charms, except acting Grandmaster Jean.

That must be why you act so warm towards them, why you decide to bare your soul and feelings towards them, no matter how scary it can be. That’s why you play with Klee, engaging her in less destructive entertainment than the fish blasting and that is why you never refuse Albedo in any of his requests, be it a quick walk on a sunny day or assistance in his experiments.

***

A familiar dream.

You see a giant owl, it's yellow eyes piercing right through you. It's a majestic creature, with snow white fluffy feathers and razor sharp talons. Bird looks at you with all knowing eyes, and then spreads its wings, soundlessly flying in your direction. You dodge it, still marvelling at its grace, as the bird continues its way to the giant head laying behind you.

You turn back still tracing the bird's flight, eyes then turning to the bodiless head. It has the face of an aged man with wise eyes, it's lips move silently chanting. There's something hypnotizing in the chant - listen to me and you will now, listen to me and I will tell you, listen to me and you will learn things that he doesn’t want you to know.

You take a step, hand outstretched to touch it. It burns your skin, and the world around you darkens, all sounds stop and soon enough darkness consumes the bodiless head too, leaving you all alone.

A memory comes.

You're absolutely naked and shivering with Albedo hovering above you. He says something but you can’t understand the words, liquid(?) in your eyes and ears. You hear Sucrose and Timaeus in the background too and how excited they sound.

You turn your head, catching the sight of slabs of pure carbon, bottles of water, pieces of lime and ammonia solution and the rest of organic and inorganic matter lying around you.

There are no thoughts and feelings - you are nothing but an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

"Timaeus, bring the blanket" It's Albedo's voice, “Sucrose, check.. [First]’s temperature. I will observe them”

“[First]?”

“It’s a fitting name”

The memory ends. You wake up.

***

You wake up to Albedo sitting near your bed. It's not a rare occurrence with him frequently checking up on your health, but the memories of previous dreams make you almost jump when you see his silhouette again.

"Uhm, hello?" you still sound husky from sleep.

"Apologies for coming here, I heard your whimpers and decided to check if everything was alright". His face looks as impassive as ever, but there's a concerned tone in his voice. He must be extremely worried then.

"I..” you start but then trail off, unsure what to say. Is the revelation that you dreamt even true? Aside from the strange coincidence and sense of isolation that loomed over you, becoming a bit unbearable with each day, you had nothing to prove your nonsensical conclusion: you are not real.

“I saw a dream, of me lying among the lime and carbon and water” Albedo gives you an intense stare, eyes and expression completely unreadable: “it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

A moment passes and then another and you feel even more stupid with each second to just come to that conclusion, not to mention saying it outloud. And then the most unexpected thing happens: Albedo nods.

“Yes, yes it happened to you” he suddenly sounds tired, as if he admitted a dark, dark secret, that it arguably is. A shock goes through you, as you start to gasp for air - it’s one thing to speculate and guess, it’s completely different to hear a confirmation.

You can’t exactly remember what happens next - you think you broke down right there and then, as alchemist awkwardly tried to comfort you. He was explaining how and why he created you - he thought that your creation would give him answers he was looking for, solve his internal conflict, and then he started to wonder how different artificial life is from the natural one and that’s why he decided to give you memories.

It was hard at first, he says, to push back the existing ones back and replace them with new. Make you believe that you were born too. Memories were his favourite thing to do, he had a theory you see, that people are majorly products of their environment, and he wanted to prove that with you. That’s why he decided to mold you into a person with traits he usually finds valuable.

In the end you found yourself nursing a hot tea mug with a few drops of calming concoction dissolved in it. Albedo is lingering around in his own disquieted fashion, as you rethink your whole life - can it even be called a life anymore?

You glance at the alchemist fretting around you, frowning, and unsure what to do, the warmth and happiness you felt upon seeing him replaced by disappointment and confusion. Albedo isn't the one who you thought him to be, Archons, you're not the one who you thought yourself to be!

Suddenly the way all others interacted you became crystal clear - they treated you like oddity because you were one. You remember Klee and how she always seemed to love calling you her "bestest special friend". No way they don't know of your origin. No way they will ever treat you like a person.

There's an ache when you think about Klee also turning away from you; She is a sunshine personified right now, spreading her kindness and enthusiasm without even trying, but who knows what will happen once she grows up, will she have a problem with her peers because of you, or she'll adopt the general public's opinion of you? The thought is almost enough to send you into a crying fit again. You want to run far away.

"I want to travel" you finally say, there's no way you can integrate into society when everyone knows what you are and will always see it before who you are. You want to run away and start anew somewhere far, so the rumors will never reach that place and no one will look at you with that wide eyed stare again. You say what you think about this whole situation.

"Please, don't" he says and you of course stop, legs no longer listening to you, "I understand you are distressed right now, but running away isn't the solution"

"But I will never be able to truly connect with anyone, they know it, of my birth, right? The whole city knows about it, right?"

"I know that you want to feel loved, I… We are the same - before your creation I felt the same loneliness, I couldn't bond with anyone save for Klee, but interacting with you was far more pleasant than expected. Relationships are needlessly tiring and I never understood why people focused on them so much, yet now, looking at you I can understand them. I love you, [First], you are perfect".

You still again, now stunted by his words and sudden love confession. It's all so sudden and strange and confusing and you are too tired and too shocked to deal with this, so you decide to distance yourself. "I can't love you in return"

"But you will"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's against your nature to oppose me in anything"

Note: Galatea is an ivory statue created by Pygmalion, who later fell in love with it. The head in reader's dream is decapitated Mimir, a figure in Norse mythology who is known for his knowledge and wisdom. His decapitated head was reciting secret knowledge and giving counsel to Odin.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere albedo x reader #Yandere Albedo #Yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere #Albedo #Yandere x reader #Honestly it's not very yandere #My sleeping pills don't work again #my writing

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synchlora · 2 years

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ID: a two-toned pen drawing of the anatomy of a bird-like creature, almost resembling a dinosaur. The skeleton is drawn in black, showing an owl-like skull with a long neck, connecting to a spine and ribcage with long arms. At the end of the wrist, it has three claws and a thumb on each hand. Its spine continues to a pelvis which has typical hind legs and also a strange, small pair of wings connecting to the upper half of the hip. It then has a tail similar to a lizards continuing past the spine. The physical features are shown in purple. It has feathers across most of its body, with two especially long, stripped feathers coming in two tufts from its head. Off of the front arms, wings cover the last claw and leave the other two and thumb exposed as just talons. The hind legs are covered in feathers up until the talons, and the hind wings are also feathered, though much smaller than the front ones. The tail has a small fan of feathers at the base and two long, stripped feathers sticking out along them. At the end of the tail is a tapered plume of feathers. End description

ANATOMY.

#holy SHIT this took a while #why is it midnight #my creatures #sketching shit

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98prilla · 4 years

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Shifted

Thomas decides to see what all the Side’s animal forms would be. It does not go so well for Anxiety.

This is set pre accepting anxiety, and diverges a little from the cannon of that episode, fair warning.

He is terrified. His heart is pounding as he pulls further back into the shadows, hiding under the couch. He can hear the others out there, talking, laughing, having fun. This isn’t fun.

“An owl? Really, Thomas, owls aren’t even actually smart, their eyes take up much of their cranial cavity.”

“Come on, kiddo, they are symbols of wisdom. And those wings sure must be nifty! I’m having a pawsome time myself!” A groan at the pun.

“I always thought Logan was a bit bird brained.” Roman mutters. “But seriously, a dragon? While the scales are quite flattering, it is a bit strange, considering I usually fight them.”

“I don’t know, Roman, I guess cause you’re always talking about questing I just settled on a fantasy creature. It is pretty cool." He rolls his eyes at the huff of pride he can hear as Roman no doubt puffs up his chest, flares his wings.

“Speaking of strange, where's anxiety?” his ears flatten against his head, pulse picking up again. They’re talking about him.

“He should be here. I did summon him.” Thomas, confused. He curses his inability to sink out in this form.

“Perhaps he has taken the form of a smaller animal and is hiding.” He almost hisses, could Logic shut up for once?

“Aw, maybe we should look for him! He’ll probably be so cute!”

“Please. That weirdo is probably a venomous spider or a little parasite. Who cares, where he is?” yes, thank you Roman, for once being not a moron.

“Patton, if you’re worried perhaps you can sniff him out. You are a cat, after all.” No. Nonono. Logic, shut it!

“Good idea, Logan. Give it a try!” and he is outta here before he even knows what he’s doing.

His terror skyrockets and he shoots out from under the couch to the startled yelps of everyone else. Everything is big, huge, compared to him, the living room seems endless.

The stairs, he just needs to get to the stairs and he'll be able to physically enter the mindscape, he’s so close-

Then there is the flap of wings, a victorious shriek, and talons are digging into his shoulders pinning him down.

“Well, what have we here?” He shoves aside his fear, proud as his voice comes out just as scathing and steady as ever.

“Get off, you overgrown lizard.” He bites out, Roman’s scaled head coming into view. He glares at Roman’s laughter.

“Anxiety, kiddo? Is that you?”

“No, its Joan, yes it’s me, Patton, now get off, Roman!” His heart is beating fast, too fast, and his words are wavering. He is afraid, afraid, afraid. He hates this, hates it, he just wants this to be over.

“Hmm. I don’t think I will. Think about it, Thomas. We have the opportunity here to get anxiety out of our way for good.” His stomach drops, his blood goes cold, he is shaking.

“Roman, what are you suggesting?” Logan, he can’t be considering this, please no, please!

“I mean, we don’t need to vanquish him. We can keep him like this. Put him in a cage, or something.”

“I'm not a pet, you idiot, and you can’t keep me like this forever.” He hisses out.

“Oh contraire, little mouse, we can keep you weak enough you don’t have any choice.” His heart lurches as he is lifted up, Roman's wings buffeting him, they are in the air.

“Roman, put me down! I… please! Pleasepleaseplease…” he is crying now, begging, because he can’t, this can’t be happening, they can’t actually intend to keep him locked in this form, weak and powerless, in a cage.

The floor seems so far away, and he feels sick, from the altitude shift or what is happening or both, he can’t tell. The anguished terror is filling him and he lets out a broken, choked sob.

This is what he gets, for thinking he could ever be accepted, for thinking he could ever be tolerated, much less liked. All he’d ever done was his job, and this is his reward.

“Logan, what-" he lets out a squeak despite himself as a blur of gray rams into Roman, sending him spiraling off balance.

Then he feels the talon’s grip slip, and he screams. He is falling, flipping through the air. From this height in this form his bones will break, shatter, with his luck his neck will snap. He has time to cry for help, before he impacts.

“Gotcha!” The halt is jarring, and he is shaking, instinctively flattening himself to make as small a target as possible as he tries to get ahold of himself. He realizes it’s soft, the ground.

He looks up and nearly screams again, instead flattening further. Patton has caught him, sitting on his back haunches, he is caught in Patton's front paws.

“p-p-put me d-down. Please.” His voice is a whisper, trembles making him stutter, but Patton instantly complies, much to his relief.

He hears a shriek and looks up, just in time to see silver talons coming right at him, then they crash into him and he feels a ripping pain in his shoulder.

He can hear Patton yelling, Logan screeching, Roman growling, and it is loud so loud and all he can think is he is about to die-

“Enough!” Thomas yells, and suddenly the ground isn’t so close, suddenly he is stumbling to his feet, lunging for his normal spot on the stairs, reaching it in two strides. He lets out a relieved sob as he clutches the bannister, looking back at the others.

Logan has landed in a heap on the couch. Patton and Roman are tangled around each other on the floor. Patton's gaze meets his, worried.

“kiddo, you’re bleeding.” He lifts his hand numbly to his shoulder, mildly surprised as it comes away sticky and red. He lets out a broken, bitter laugh.

“Gee, wonder how that happened. Not like someone was trying to kill me, or worse hold me captive and torture me for my whole existence." His voice is raw and instead of biting sarcasm, it comes out as an almost whisper, red rimmed eyes glaring at the floor as he shakes, from latent fear and pulsing anger.

“Anxiety-" he half successfully chokes back another sob, harsh laughter tearing at his lungs.

“no, know what, it’s fine. It’s fine, Thomas. I always knew I wasn’t wanted. I was an idiot to hope you might… might ever actually change, actually want me around. Hell, even care about me like I care about you and keeping you safe.” He can barely stand, he doesn’t know if it’s from the pain and blood loss or the adrenaline fading or the panic attack he can feel pressing against him, tightening his chest.

“Kiddo…” he shakes his head.

“Y'know, if you really wanted me dead, all you had to do was ask. I would’ve done it myself.” He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t see the pained shock on Patton's face, the suspicious surprise on Roman's, the horror on Logan’s. The pain on Thomas's. Instead, he flips up his hood, hugging himself as he wordlessly sinks out.

He managed to lock the door before he collapses to the floor. His chest feels like it's being squeezed by a boa constrictor, his ribs crushed and all the air shoved out of his lungs. His vision narrows to a dark pinprick, gaze unseeing as he sees Roman's talons again and again, falling and splattering against the floor, bones shattered, bars, a cage, closing in, pressing him tight, he can’t breathe, he’s choking, he’s dying, god, he’s going to die here. Why not? He laughs hysterically, that’s what they want, may as well give it to ‘em.

“virgil, no. It’s not what we all want. Come back to me, stormy. Focus on my voice. You can do it, Virgil.” Virgil. None of them know his name. Only, only…

“Dee?” he chokes out, blurry vision focusing enough to see Deceit, holding his hands in his lap, rubbing circles on his knuckles.

“There we are. Hello, dearest.” Deceit reaches up, softly wiping away his tears, brushing back his hair.

“I’m an idiot. I’m a stupid idiot.” He mutters.

“No. Virgil, you’re not. It’s ok.” He hisses in a breath of pain as Dee places a hand on his shoulder, vision going speckly at the slight contact. Dee pulls away, eyes wide, face darkening to fury.

“You’re hurt. Vee, you’re bleeding" he just shrugs, another sob clawing its way out of his throat.

“Doesn’t matter.” He whispers. Deceit hisses, and pulls him onto his lap.

“It does. Even if they don’t care, even if they don’t love you, I do. It matters to me. You will always matter to me. You’re my baby, Virg. Even if you’ve left the nest, you’re still my little rain storm. Got it?” He feels Dee's extra arms removing his hoodie, then all six are cradling him against Dee's chest, holding him tight and safe and secure, letting him relax and melt into the touch, knowing Dee will never let anything hurt him. He feels Dee press a kiss to his head.

“you’ve wiped yourself out, love. I'll take care of that nasty shoulder gash. Get some sleep, dearest.” Weakly, he clings to Dee's shirt. He doesn’t want him to let go, he doesn’t feel safe, if Dee lets go.

“I’m staying, darling. I’ll stay as long as you want.”

“remus-"

��can rain down all the hell he wants. Until you’re better, they deserve it.” He finds he can’t argue with that. He falls asleep to Dee humming softly, stroking his forehead and holding his hand, his other arms working to gently bandage his shoulder.

Deceit sighs as he hears a crash. Looking up, he sees Remus kick in the door, eyes aflame.

“who hurt him? Who’s ass do I gotta beat until it falls off?”

“hush. I just got him settled.” Dee replies. In three strides, Remus is beside him, head cocked unnaturally far to the side, like a snapped neck.

“He’s ok?” Remus asks, neck snapping back to a normal position with an audible click.

“yes. Keep an eye on him, please?”

“What? Where're you going?” Remus asks. Deceit’s eyes flash.

“I am going to go see what exactly those half-witted buffoons did to send him spiraling. Then I am going to determine whom it is I need to beat the shit out of.” Deceit growled, stepping away from the bed.

“Boo, you never let me have any fun.” Remus pouts. He instantly stops as Virgil lets out a small sound, immediately climbing into the bed with him and spooning around him. Virgil curls against him immediately, stilling as he clings onto Remus.

“Thank you.” Deceit murmurs from the doorway. Remus nods.

“I'll take care of our little stormy night. You go teach ‘em a lesson, Dee.” Remus replies, relishing the sharp fanged smile Deceit flashes him, before sinking out. As an afterthought, he snaps, replacing the door, before turning his attention to Virgil, trying to mentally send him all of his love. Virgil is more of a brother to him than Roman has ever been, and he hates seeing him hurt.

“hang in there, vee. Dee'll fix everything.”

“I highly doubt he wants to be called right now.”

“But he was so scared! We have to help!”

“I don’t know Pat, seeing us might make it worse.” He clears his throat. He meets three sets of surprised eyes with steel. Thomas yelps and falls backwards, catching himself on the wall.

“Who is that?!”

“Deceit, you scurrilous snake, what are you doing here?” his eyes narrow at that.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Roman, was I not wanted here at this exact moment?” his voice is a perfect mimicry of Virgil's, and to his satisfaction it makes Roman flinch.

“Thomas. This is Deceit. He is responsible for the lies you tell not only others, but yourself. I am puzzled as to why you have appeared now. To my knowledge, no lies have been spoken.” Logan explains, and his hands ball into fists.

“Oh, truly, why ever would I be here? It'ssss not like Anxiety returned bloody and injured, in the midsssst of a panic attack, talking about how nobody wantssss him and it doessssn't matter. I’m sure that hassss nothing to do with it, Logic.” He hisses out, spitting Logan's title like it burns his tongue.

He can see Patton's guilty face out of the corner of his eye, knows whatever happened, it wasn’t him. But Roman… yes.

“So Thomas, dear, care to explain what happened?” He asks, sickly sweet, turning his gaze to Thomas, who has a slight frown on his face. As an afterthought, he notes that Thomas isn’t afraid of him, despite his scales and sharp fangs. Interesting.

“I thought it would be cool to see what everyone’s animal forms would be. Logan was an owl, Pat was a persian cat, and Roman was a dragon. But we didn’t see anxiety anywhere so we thought he was small and hiding and maybe too scared to move. Pat was gonna find him, then a mouse shot out from under the couch and Roman…” Thomas trails off, eyes shifting away, but it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Roman. Care to continue?” Roman meets his ice cold gaze imperiously.

“gladly. I captured the fiend in my claws. Hurting him was an accident. I merely meant to catch him while he was small and couldn’t hurt us and contain him. Keep him small, so he’d stop bothering Thomas. It’s not like we need him, anyways.” Roman scoffs.

Rage is filling him. Because Roman truly thinks he is in the right, truly thinks he didn’t do anything wrong, and his voice is proud as he speaks about traumatizing Virgil, who is the youngest, the smallest, the most vulnerable to start with. How dare he?

Before he can think, he has crossed the room, he rears his hand back and slaps Roman hard enough to send him reeling backwards.

“You are a heartless, soulless bastard. I told him not to come, I told him he’d get hurt but he didn’t listen. You know why? It’s certainly not because he wants to be included, he doesn’t yearn for your acceptance, it doesn’t break him a little more each time you all dismiss and send him away unwanted. He definitely doesn’t just want to be liked! He never has a hard enough time just being himself, being afraid, all the fucking time, and you have certainly helped make him feel right at home.” He hisses, ignoring the tears stinging at his eyes as he whips around, facing the rest of them.

“And you’re no better. How do you think it feels, knowing the person who conjured you doesn’t even want you? How terrified would you be, surrounded by people who have never showed you kindness, who have admitted their distaste, small and defenseless, being threatened to be put in a cage? His worst fear is something happening to Thomas and being unable to reach him, to react and help. It’s his job to protect Thomas, and you were threatening to keep him away, to put Thomas’s own safety at risk for your own stupid biases! You were threatening to make his nightmare real, and not a single fucking one of you said otherwise, did you?!” He yells, slowly looking at each of them in turn. No one will meet his eyes now, not even Roman.

“you don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve his name. No wonder he hasn’t told you. You’re a bunch of ignorant bullies. And you’d say I’m the bad guy. You all picked out the most vulnerable and pounced.” He shifts his head, turning to Thomas, a curling, empty smile on his face.

“It was a fucking pleasure, Thomas. I’ll be taking my leave.” The lie is bitter and acrid on his tongue, tasting of ash as he sinks out.

He returns to Virgil's room, immediately hurrying to his bedside, because he is crying, despite Remus's attempts to soothe him.

“Vee, what’s wrong?” he asks. Virgil glares at him through his tears.

“you said you were gonna stay!” he lets out a soft breath, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I know. I just had to check on something. But you know Remus would never let anything hurt you, right?” Virgil nods, leaning back into Remus's arms.

“That’s right, starshine. You’re safe.” Remus whispers, rocking Virgil gently, who responds by pressing his face into Remus's chest.

“You’re staying now, right?” Virgil mumbles. He smiles, slipping under the covers.

“I am. No lies this time.” He murmurs as Virgil lays down, curling into him. He reaches out with all six arms, pulling Remus closer, hugging both of them and sandwiching Virgil in warmth and safety.

“What was it?” Remus asks lowly, once Virgil is out again. He sighs.

“Shapeshifting, animal forms. He was a mouse. Roman was a dragon. Threatened to keep him locked up. It got physical.”

“You mean Roman was a bitch and attacked Virgil unprovoked.” Remus's voice is flat, and he shoots him a soft look, one of his hands slipping into Remus's.

“I’m going to kill him.” He squeezes Remus's hand.

“Later. We can work on murder plans later. Right now Vee needs us.”

“Anxiety, it’s dinner time!” Patton's voice trills. He opens his eyes with a groan, freezing instantly.

This… isn’t his room. It isn’t even the commons. He’s laying in soft bedding. He realizes he’s in a little plastic hut. His heart speeds. He looks down at himself, human, good.

He flinches as the house is lifted up, leaving him exposed. His breath catches in his lungs, Patton is looming over him, he is giant. He skitters back, realizing his back is pressing against metal wire. Cage, he is in a cage, he is tiny, in a cage.

He scrambles, trying to claw his way out, trying to bend the wire enough to wriggle out.

“hey, now. None of that kiddo.” His stomach flips as hands squeaze around his waist and he is lifted into the air. He is barely as tall as Patton's ring finger, he is so high in the air as Patton places him down on his palm.

“patton please, please, just let me go, please!” he begs, feeling tears slipping down his face.

“Aw, I know kiddo. But this is better for everyone. This way you’re still around but don’t bother Thomas.” He stumbles as Patton places him back in the cage, doubling over and choking on sobs as a small food dish is placed inside, the shadows of bars shading his face.

He is still begging, pleading, screaming, for Patton, for anyone, to let him out, let him go, but he knows no one is coming, and the bars are pressing in, and soon there won’t be any more space, any more air.

“hush, stormy, shhh. It’s ok. It’s ok, lovely.” His eyes fly open, and he clings to Dee, feeling all of his arms cradling him tight as he sniffles into his shoulder, sobs shaking his thin frame.

“Just a dream, Vee." He feels Remus's hand on his, feels the terror and residual fear draining out of him as the nightmare is removed from his mind. The pros of dark creativity. Remus can steal other people’s bad thoughts, bad dreams, but then he experiences whatever the thoughts were. He hears Remus's sharp inhale as he sees it, feels his hand tighten it’s grip.

“thanks ree.” He manages, his voice hoarse and sore.

“Virgil, love, we should talk about it. I only got minor details from them.”

“what’s to say? They were going to keep me in a cage, they d-didn't want me.” Dee draws back a tad, looking down at Virgil's face, eyes hidden behind his bangs.

“did anyone help? Surely not all of them went along with this.” He shrugs, taking a deep breath.

“R-roman g-g-rabbed me in his talons and st-started flying. But he yelled… I think L-Logan tried to stop him. He was an o-o-owl. I think he rammed Roman and made him drop me. P-p-patton c-caught me. And… and he put me down, right away, when I asked. I… I don't think they woulda let Roman k-keep me.” He mumbles out, shaking. Dee feels his heart breaking, can feel the murder on Remus's face.

“That's good, Virge. They were trying to defend you.” Virgil shakes his head.

“but they didn’t. Only p-patton even cared I was h-hurt. Thomas… Thomas didn't say a-anything.”

“but he changed you back.” His brow creases as he looks out from Dee's arms at Remus's words. “if he agrees with Roman, he wouldn’t have changed you back.”

“He's right, lovely. Thomas doesn’t hate you. I know that. That is fact.” He sighs.

“Doesn’t feel like it right now.” He mumbles.

“I know. And that’s ok, Virge.” Dee kisses his head softly. He startles at a knock on the door.

“Remus, see who it is?”

“If it’s princey stab him for me.” Virgil mumbles, making Remus chuckle and ruffle his hair.

“Gladly, stormy.”

He throws open the door, leaning in the doorway with a cocky grin, teeth sharp and eyes glinting.

“Well, well, hello there Daddy. Have I been naughty?” he teases, moving to block Patton's view of the room.

“Remus… what… what are you doing here?” Patton asks nervously.

“Apparently playing the butler. Y'know, Patton, in the movies the butler is always guilty of murder.” He tilts his head slowly, relishing the fear that races across Patton's face. “Now, what are you doing here, daddio?” Patton fiddles with his sweater sleeves, a frown settling on his face.

“I just… I know he probably doesn’t want to see us right now, heck, maybe ever, and I don’t fault him for it. Today… today was bad. Really, really bad. I just want to make sure he's ok. And apologize. We… we chewed out Roman. His actions were unacceptable. Just… I would never let that happen. He’s not… he’s a person, and I don’t always agree with him, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to take away his voice or opinion. Can you just… pass that on, for me? Please?”

Remus looks back at the bed, softening as he sees Virgil uncurling from Dee, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest, leaning against Dee, who has an arm around his shoulders. Virgil looks up at Dee, a silent question.

“No lies.” Dee murmurs, and Virgil bites his lip. “You wanna let him in?” He asks softly. Virgil hesitates, but nods.

“If he means it... yeah.” Virgil mumbles.

“He does. Remus, stop playing. V- Anxiety says he can come in.” He calls, catching himself before using Virgil’s actual name. Remus sighs, but steps aside.

“Well? Come in then.”

Hesitantly, Patton steps inside the dark room, taking in the soft, dark carpet, the dark to light purple gradient painted on the walls. There are also posters for bands carefully hung in frames, and a few posters for movies that Anxiety must like. He sees fairy lights strung across the ceiling that sparkle like stars without the main lights turned on.

He lets out a soft noise of hurt as he takes in Anxiety, knees pulled to his chest, his shoulders hunched. His eyeshadow is smeared all over his face, his eyes red and puffy. He glances at Deceit, not as surprised to see him here, tilting his head. Deceit nods minutely, and he sits down next to Anxiety, legs dangling over the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him, to give him space.

“hey kiddo. How’s your shoulder?” He asks.

“better. Dee helped. It still... still hurts.” His voice is quiet and unsure and hoarse.

“Yeah. I think it would be pretty strange if it didn’t. I’m glad you’re going to be ok, though. Even if it hurts now, it’ll feel better eventually.”

“will it?” He is surprised as Patton pulls him into a hug, startled, but after a moment he leans into it, tucking his chin against Patton’s shoulder.

“I have never wanted you to die. I have never wanted you to leave. You’re one of my kiddos, kiddo, and that means I stand up for you when something hurts you, no matter who or what it is.”

“i’m scared. I hate... I hate being small... I hate... it’s so big, everything... I could drown, in a puddle, I could be crushed by a book, I could be stepped on, I could be crushed, I could get hurt and no one would know, no one would realize or find me. I could be caged...” He chokes out, fear flooding through him again. “I could be caged and my influence squashed, and then no one would protect Thomas, look out for dangers, keep him... keep him on task, keep him motivated to d-do better. I c-can't... trapped, and b-bars and it-it's too much... too small...” He is shaking again, on the edge of hysteria, but Patton is rocking him, holding him.

“Oh honey... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We didn’t know you were gonna be that little. I’m sorry we didn’t ask permission first, we weren’t thinking. I promise, promise,” he pulled back so Anxiety could see his eyes, tears spilling down his own cheeks, “that I will physically fight anyone who suggests we do that again, who even dares to mention putting you in a cage. I nearly did fight Roman, Logan had to hold me back.” That gets a weak laugh out of Anxiety, imagining Logan holding back a kicking and spitting furious Patton. “I love you, kiddo. I really, really do, and if anyone has a problem with that, has a problem with you, they’ll have to go through me first.” Patton’s voice is fierce, and he doesn’t have to look at Dee to know that he isn’t lying.

“T-thomas-”

“Is worried about you, kiddo. I came to check on you cause he wanted to make sure you were gonna be ok. What you said... really, really scared us, but we didn’t wanna summon you, because we knew you probably didn’t want to be summoned. He’s sorry, too. We all are.”

“Even Roman?” He asks, bitterness in his voice. Patton hesitates, sighing.

“I don’t know. I think... I think he’s sorry he got yelled at, sorry he got in trouble, sorry we didn’t agree with him. But I don’t think he’s sorry for what he actually did to you, said to you. Which makes me angry, because he should be sorry, but he isn’t, and if he isn’t, I can’t change that. What I can do is make sure you are going to be alright. I can learn what else we shouldn’t do without asking your permission. I can be better at speaking up when Roman threatens or takes jabs at you, and eventually, hopefully, his attitude will change as he learns none of us are going to enable him anymore. I’m sorry it went this far.” He blinks, surprised. He didn’t expect Patton to acknowledge Roman’s inability to see his own wrongdoings. He didn’t expect Patton to admit to his own shortcomings. He didn’t expect Patton to be... honest.

“What would you like us to do for now, Anxiety? Clearly, you have two people who love you very much helping your right now, so I feel ok leaving, if you like. I just didn’t want you to be alone, when you were so upset. Thomas... all of us, want to speak with you about what happened, to try and make ammends, but we’ll do that on your terms, so there’s no rush. Just, whenever you’re ready to talk, we’re ready to listen. If you like, I can bring you meals, if you don’t wanna leave your room for a while. I wanna keep you healthy, and I know if I leave you to your own devices it’ll be chips and soda for every meal.” He lets out a little snort at that, because Patton is right, of course, and he’s already calmed down so much because Patton is being so nice, and he knows Dee would have told him if Patton had lied.

“that all sounds good, yeah.” He mumbles, shifting out of Patton’s hug, pulling his knees to his chest once again.

“ok. Is there anything else you need, or would like me to do?” He bites his lip, thinking.

“Just... just let them know I’m ok? If they’re really that worried about me.” Patton squeezes his non injured shoulder once as he stands, smiling gently.

“Will do, kiddo. If you ever need anything, or just want some company, don’t be afraid to call me up.”

“I... might.” Patton smiles again, soft and warm.

“I love you, Anxiety.” Patton turns away, but before he sinks out, Virgil steels his courage.

“Virgil!” He shouts, and the room seems to freeze. Remus is staring at him in wide eyed surprise. Deceit has stopped rubbing his back, and Patton falters mid step, before turning to face him, something akin to awe on his face. “That’s... my name. My name is Virgil.” A huge smile blooms across Patton’s face, his eyes light up with tender joy, and he sniffles, wiping away tears.

“Virgil. I think that’s a lovely name, Virgil. I know I'm usually a blabber mouth, but it when it counts, I can keep a secret.” Patton winks, sending a smile flashing across his own face as warmth blooms in his chest. With a wave, Patton sinks out, and he collapses back against Deceit with a long, low sigh.

“You sure about that, Virg?” Remus asks, from where he’s leaning against the wall, having simply observed everything.

“yeah. Yeah I... think I am.” He feels Dee press another soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Proud of you, lovely.” He smiles, closing his eyes as he feels Remus settle on the other side of him. He is still scared and afraid and knows the nightmares won’t leave him alone for ages, now. But he also knows that at least Patton is on his side. And Patton is almost more of a mama bear than Deceit. If the two of them are looking out for him, he knows nothing will hurt him like this ever again.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #thomas #deceit sanders #unsympathetic roman #mostly he's a dick #pre accepting anxiety #sympathetic dark sides #minor injury #virgil angst #platonic anxceitmus #hurt/comfort #Angst with a happy ending #shape shifting

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snackleggg · 3 years

Text

City of splintering hopes: Chapter 3 "Carvings in the walls"

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Ao3

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As Danny flew through the city he became more and more amazed.

It was obvious the place had been abandoned for a long long time but even so there was no sign of decay, everything seemingly perfectly persevered. Of course there was rubble, entire blocks of buildings that was nothing but collapsed stone but for the most part the ancient city was intact.

He landed down in one of the streets. And took stock of his surroundings.

The stone buildings wooden doors all shut, apart from the rubble and rocks the streets were almost pristinely clean.

From flying over head Danny had noticed that the whole city was built in a very organised system. Rows of houses that led upwards encircling around the large island, every once in a while there was a break in the autonomous rock with what Danny thinks were once well kept parks, now overgrown and spilling out into the streets.

In the center of the city, at the very top of the upwards hill of the island was a very large immaculate building. Danny wouldn't call it a castle per say but the architecture did remind him of ancient Greek and Roman architecture when building lavish housing for emperors.

There were a lot of narrow alleys between houses and buildings that may have been storage or served some other purpose, Danny couldn't tell. There were the standard 'roads' which were paths of stone in regular intervals between buildings, being connected together through the city like a huge grid that wrapped perfectly around the entire island. And then there were very open places, places which crowds may have once gathered or, from the looks of the marks on the ground, merchant stalls may have once been.

All in all it was a very human city.

He had never seen anything like it in the Ghost Zone. The longer he spent there the more sure he was that this was where Halfas had once lived.

He slowly began making his way to the center building, going up stairs and slopes as the ground started curving upwards.

Something else he noticed were common carvings in the walls, most just looked like normal graffiti but every time he came to one of those big open spaces that would have been able to hold lots of people at once the carvings were much more professional, deliberate.

The carvings depicted lots of things. Little stories Danny had no cultural context for, writings in a language that looked vaguely like ghost speak written down but just different enough that Danny couldn't actually read it, like it was the same language but a different dialect.

The most common things carved into the walls, he noted, were birds. Lots of different kinds of birds. Two birds that showed up the most though were crows and owls. That made an ominous sort of sense for a people that lived on the border between life and death.

Finally the compact buildings opened up as he nearly reached the top of the island. There were overgrown fields of strange Ghost Zone plants around the center building, it was obviously important, sacred maybe even.

Not for the first time Danny considered turning around, going home, it was obvious he wasn't going to learn anything from this so why risk accidentally disrespecting a race of people who deserve peace? But again his core seemed to disagree as it tugged at him to go forward.

Danny sighed.

He stood on the steps just before entering the open front of the building, again reminding him of Roman architecture by the pillars and open outside hallways. From the top of the large island now he could see far out into these "Hidden lands".

Unlike the rest of the Ghost Zone there weren't any doors floating in the abyss, not even any random debris. Not a ghost was floating in sight, it was quiet and Danny realised he might be the only living, so to speak, thing here. The quiet was just so suffocating, so absent of just anything.

Ghost were naturally very quiet but even they gave off the smallest sounds of existence. Their cores hummed in a consistent way that other ghosts recognised almost unconsciously. Even the Ghost Zone itself seemed to have this hum to it, a never ending rhythm that nobody else noticed because it was just the constant. Like how nobody on earth noticed the world was turning.

But here even that hum was quiet, as if the Ghost Zone itself was holding it's breath.

Danny was still distracted by the strangeness of the "Hidden lands" to really take note of it when he took a step forward off of the steps leading up to the building to properly stand infront of it and under the overhanging roof.

He did take note of it though when the area around where his foot was started glowing a bright yellow, almost white, light. He jumped back, startled as the light moved forwards quickly in a line. The line lead down the side of the open hallway and as Danny leaned over to see where it was going he noticed something about the walls of the building.

There were large openings and inside the alcoves were strange statues. Bird like statues, except also not. They stood on two long legs with three sharp talon like toes, lines almost like joints scattered across the legs with the most noticeable being where the knee would be on a normal creature. The torso of the statues was an upside down trapizium shape, thin towards the bottom but consistently broadening in a slanting line all the way up to the shoulders.

There was a symbol on the torso, Danny had seen that symbol appear quite frequently carved above every door and on the overhang of the building before he had passed under it. Was it the symbol of these people perhaps? Did it have some meaning Danny would never have the context for?

The arms, similar to the legs, were very long. They had the same strange joint like lines as the legs with the line of where the elbow would be being the most pronounced. They didn't have any hands, instead three long claw like fingers at the end of each arm that had their own joint lines. There was also something else about the arms but pinned against the statue's side Danny couldn't tell what.

The bird similarities came from the head. Each head of each statues was a little different while their bodies were virtually the same. All of them either had beaks or someone kind of carving in their semi flat faces to imitate a beak. Their lifeless and empty round eyes stared ahead unseeingly. All of them had some kind of crown of what looked to be stone feathers carved towards the back of their heads.

Danny examined the strange statues closely, then he looked at the glowing line in the ground that still led down the open sided hallway.

Sighing, Danny followed the line. It had obviously been triggered when he stepped up onto the level of the building which must have meant something. Suddenly Danny's mind jumped to the thought of boobytraps but he shook his head of that notion. An ancient civilisation could never really guess when they were about to fall, let alone have the forethought to install boobytraps for people they could only guess would come to the ruins of their civilisation in the far future. It was one of the things that Danny always found unrealistic in tv shows or movies.

Eventually the glowing line turned inwards towards the wall and split off into two parts that surrounded the outline of one of the alcoves that held the strange statues.

Danny stopped infront of the statue and stared at it. Why had that glowing line appeared and why did it lead to this statue? It didn't appear any different from all the rest.

Then the tall statue that was easily twice Danny's height, it's eyes started to glow and then it blinked.

It blinked before tilting it's head downwards to meet Danny's gaze. Now with the eyes glowing that same light yellow-ish colour as the line that had led him there Danny could see the eyes had thin pupils that ran from the top of the circular eyes to the bottom, distantly in the back of Danny's mind they reminded him of a cat's eyes. More at the forefront of his brain Danny internally screamed 'RUN' before physically turning back to the direction he had come from and bolting.

Another far away part of Danny's brain tried to remind him he could literally fly but he disregarded that as he was currently using all his brain cells on focusing on running and not looking back.

He reached the stairs and started taking them two at a time, still not remembering his powers of flight, his feet hurt from how hard they were hitting against the sturdy stone. Then, in a classic Danny Fenton way, he tripped.

But instead of faceplanting he found his face hovering just a few inches from face planting on the stairs and he was hyper aware of the fact that he hadn't used his powers to catch his fall. In fact he hadn't caught his fall but two sandy pale stone arms encircling his midsection told him exactly who had.

Danny turned his head slowly to get a look at the statue-come-to-life that was holding him like one might pick up a small kitten.

The statue's glowing eyes stared down at him, blinked with a small clicking sound as if they were the lenses of a camera taking a picture, then the statues-come-to-life tilted it's head before going "You should be careful when going down stairs" in a monotone yet also seemingly amused voice.

Danny wanted to shriek, to pull his hair out, to do something because the statues-come-to-life that didn't have any visible mouth just spoke. Instead of any of those things Danny's body did the first thing it thought of doing, twisting around awkwardly to hold one of each of the stone arms before pushing them apart, letting him fall to the awaiting stairs.

Thankfully this time he remembered 'Oh right, ghost powers' and before he could hit the ground he flew away, quickly.

His legs formed into as wispy tail behind him to let him go faster because he needed to get out of here.

He soon flew out of the city limits and towards the cave opening in the side of the mountains. All he could think about was going, go, get out, thanks for the cool clues to Halfa past but I think I'll pass.

Then when Danny was just about to get to the cave entrance, barely 15 feet away, a certain bird statue-come-to-life landed infront of him. Of course this time his brain worked, he would go intangible and phase right through the thing, it was too late to slow down anyway. Except that wasn't what happened because instead of going through the statue he just crashed face first into it's chest at full speed.

Danny heard a crack as his face became acquainted with the symbol carved into the statue's torso and he silently said goodbye to his 1 whole week of no injuries streak because before the pain even blossomed on his face he knew he had broken his nose. All he could hope for was that he didn't break anything else along with it.

The statue didn't even move an inch, not even a flinch. Danny was reminded of the saying an unstoppable force meets an immovable object only in this case Danny wasn't as unstoppable as he liked to think.

Before he could fall the rest of the way to the ground he could feel his arms suddenly pinned against his body as three long claw like fingers held him above the ground and at a literal arms length of the statue creature. Danny tried going intangible but it seemed that didn't work on this creature as his nose had unfortunately come to know.

Then he was being gently set down on the ground and he found himself staring eye level with the statue as it hunched over awkwardly to look him in the eye. Another part of Danny was reminded of those 'How to talk to short people' memes and he almost snorted at the mental comparison before stopping from the sudden pain of moving any of his facial muscles.

"You are hurt" said the voice of the statue-creature-thing.

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious" Danny deadpanned, his voice sounding off and a little ridiculous from the unfortunate fate of his nose.

The weird bird statue tilted it's head to the side and blinked it's eyes again, the clicking sound the blink made echoing in the silence.

"What is your name?" It finally said after a brief pause.

"Danny Phantom. What are you?" Danny asked stepping around he statue-come-to-life to examine it from all sides. He could now see from it's arms that it had stone feathers, again hitting Danny with it's strange resemblance to a bird.

The creature's gaze followed Danny as he went around it, thankfully it's head didn't do some creepy 360 or even a 180, just turning around to the other side to see Danny when he left it's view from one side.

"I am an information retrieval droid, model K-18" it answered monotonely.

"So you're... a robot?" Danny asked as he stopped infront of it again.

The bird statue blinked once more before replying "Precisely". Despite the monotone voice it still somehow managed to inject some emotion into it's words.

"Well, you scared the shit out of me coming to life out of nowhere like that" Danny commented dryly. His face hurt and so did his feet, he just wanted to go home and curl up in bed and never doing anything ever again.

The robot bird jerked it's head back a bit when Danny swore, Danny confirmed it specifically reacted to the swear when it said in a repreemanding way "Language"

Again Danny almost snorted before remembering the broken nose dilemma and he sighed.

"Okay, I'm officially too tired to deal with this. Bye!" He said, walking around the robot and towards the cave entrance.

He heard the sound of heavy stone footsteps behind him and he turned around to see the robot bird following him.

"What?" Danny asked a little snappily.

"I am coming with you" It stated matter-of-factly.

Danny was so exasperated. He didn't want to deal with this.

"No, you're not" Danny said.

"Yes, I am" It replied as if it was the most simple thing in the world to understand.

"No. You are not" Danny insisted.

Another blink from the bird statue "I insist on accompanying you Danny Phantom" it said and Danny just knew there was no getting around this. This weird statue robot bird thing was going to follow him whether he liked it or not.

A tired sigh escaped Danny as he assessed the stone being infront of him "Why?" He asked.

"Because it is my duty to keep you safe. It has been officially added as my top objective" The bird robot said and Danny once again felt like pulling his hair out.

"I'm not going to be able to get rid of you even if I tried aren't I?" Danny stated more than asked.

"That is correct Danny Phantom" It nodded, as if Danny finally understood.

"Just call me Danny" He said before turning back around towards the cave. The only indication that the bird robot was still following being it's heavy footsteps behind him.

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I'll be tagging all content do to with this story with the tag City of splintering hopes so if guys want to you can follow the story easier. You can also use that tag for any questions or content you guys make of the story!

#danny phantom #city of splintering hopes #chapter 3 #danny fenton #Meda-Lean #danny phantom fic #my writing #danny phantom au #dp fanfic #fanfic

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