#ego cryptid tree

[owlf45]

romance me with mosquito facts

mosquitoes, when in a condensed enough space, sound like gentle rain.

i work with a specific mosquito species, called the aedes agypti, which carries diseases like dengue virus, west niles virus, and yellow fever. the males are generally smaller than the females, though emerge into adults sooner. you can tell the difference between males and females by the fluffy antennas of the males.

gay mosquitoes everywhere.

mosquitoes tend to be social, if stupid creatures. if you stick two mosquitoes alone in a cage, they probably wont chill (and wont mate). it's just not their style. this is especially frustrating when trying to set up specific genetic crosses.

although i never met them, there used to be a researcher at the lab who did the most batshit stuff. we keep our mosquitoes in mesh cages, so they can't escape but they can feed through the mesh (so we don't have to reach in and out of the cages and potentially let some loose). this old researcher used to grab the morning newspaper, roll up his pants, collapse in a chair and settle his calves over the mesh cages for literal thousands of mosquitoes to feed from him. for hours. i want to meet this man so bad.

mosquitoes are stupid and annoying and prone to killing themselves akin to a goldfish constantly getting stuck in a filter. but strangely enough, you grow to love them. they are simultaneously fragile and durable, easily discernible and difficult to hunt. you can tear their hind legs off and put them through shock a few times and they'll be fine, but a single finger will smush them (quite inconveniently, when you know that bitch could've moved!).

directly after bloodfeeding a female mosquito, if you kill her—often by clapping her directly between your hands (female mosquitoes are the only ones to bloodfeed)—the blood will still be warm.

although i dont screen larvae for traits as often as I used to (I tend to do more database/mosquito caretaking work now), certain gene-linked traits can be found physically in the larvae and pupae stages—sometimes they glow bright blue/green under fluorescent lighting, for example.

like I said though, i mostly work with caretaking. i do the bloodfeeding, i replace their food and water, and i make sure they're in good health and can lay eggs on a proper surface. the mosquitoes under my care live for about a month and a half, though if they're still alive by the time we need to hatch the next generation, we simply fridge them and kill them off. put mosquitoes in the fridge for a few minutes and they'll go to sleep. put them in for a few hours, and they'll usually die— we keep them in for 24 hours to make sure, though.

mosquitoes are difficult to contain. compared to other biochemistry departments, you have tiny creatures that are mobile and can fly, and can't always be seen by the average person unless they're specifically looking for it. I've worked in microbiology labs before, but if there was contamination, it was solely on the researcher. contamination from a loose mosquito is hard to track. this is all to say that I work in a bunker—double doors, minimal vents, no windows.

mosquitoes are the deadliest animals in the world. mosquitoes kill over a million people a year (hence my research). i sit in the back of the bunker sometimes, in the side warm room where we keep our cages of mosquitoes, hundreds of different genetically modified lines in progress at a time, and I have blood on my palms— blood that I fed to my subjects before I squashed them because they escaped from their cages, and I think about the fact that for over 200 lines of this species, I grow them from eggs to adults to death and hatch their offspring again and again and again. i think of lovecraftian horror and I hear gentle rain and remember images of war that keep me up late at night, and I wonder what's the point, for a few numbers in my bank account, and then another mosquito has gotten loose and lands on my arm and doesn't bite me, because it's already full; because i already fed it; because it's just looking for a small, dark place to rest in the folds of my jacket.

mosquitoes love to hide on black surfaces.

[owlf45]

#does it help to know it started as a bit?

...the marriage thing hasn't been a bit??

,,,,no.

[adreamfromnevermore]

Headcanon that the Bats must be the most infuriating members of the justice league. And it's got nothing to do with what they do or don't know or even their general skills and egos. Everyone is very used to Batman and the expectation that him and any of his spawn are somehow going to be three steps ahead of any issue they bring to the table ever.

No no, the infuriating bit? The stalking.

Listen, this is a family of freaks and weirdos. They work so well together because none of them were normal to start with and then they ended up traumatized. It's practically common practice in that family to accept that nothing is what it seems at face value and that all of your siblings are attempting to pry into your private life and cases at any given moment. I think for them it's honestly weirder if you take what they say at face value. They speak a language holy separate from any normally socialized person and it is a language of lies and half-truths that relies on the assumption that all parties are aware of that.

They're the most infuriating bitches around.

They'll tell someone something and appear to do the opposite and when confronted will have the most convoluted but sound reasoning of why they actually did exactly as they promised too.

They regularly pick people's pockets and hack into personal information because for them? That's practically a love language. They're obnoxious and they aren't even aware of it. Someone asks them to just tell the truth and they react like they've been shot. They're probably offended when they realize that someone hasn't been at least attempting to dig into them back, like come on man. I thought we were friends but you didn't even Google how long Nightwings been around? We've already put the bar on the floor for you guys? My siblings already have a full dossier ready on you because they caught us on camera in your home city during that 2 minute conversation we had 3 months ago. They sent it to me a few hours later. I think they got Oracle to help cause usually it takes them at least 12 hours.

You think they're being nice and friendly and then you realize that they have a nice little file compiled of everything you've done in the last five years, where you went to school and every note your teachers ever made about your behavior a decade ago when you were still a high schooler and fairly normal. If asked they'd probably be willing to bring out the family tree they built for you. They know what you did last summer better than you know what you did last summer. They have pictures, pictures that should be impossible because there's no way they were stalking you then and those sure don't look like security camera footage.

In reality Bats and Superman get along so well because that man is an investigative journalist and when they first met he could not leave it alone. Bruce was charmed the first time Clark Kent started doggedly attempting to ask him if he knew anything about Gothams new cryptid. It was cute how off base he was. But he was trying!!!! Bruce was sold for life! He dropped an dossier on lexcorp off in Clarks apartment a few days later. As a gift.

[crushedsweets]

I fear to stain your clothes with blood; Stain them, I don't care 'Eyeless' Jack Nyras in Creeped: PRESENT DAY

PT. 1: BACKSTORY General disclaimer: This AU is an amalgamation of headcanons, fanon, canon, and the occasional rewrite. There is an overarching story that HEAVILY strays from their canon stories.

PROXIES

➣This life became Jack’s reality for nearly a year. He would spend days completely unconscious, until he suddenly wakes up to a new crime scene. Every time, the taste of iron lingered in his mouth, even long after he washed his sins at a nearby river.

➣In rare moments of clarity, Jack tried to find himself. Sat anxiously at the river, scrubbing away at his rapidly changing body.

➣Black, hard keratin began to form on the tips of his fingers, of which the nails were torn off months ago. They resembled claws, only adding to Jack’s struggle. His ears seemed to stretch to a point and resemble bats, but he was still adjusting to the echolocation. While he got the gist of his general shape, he was almost grateful that he couldn’t see himself. 

➣The echolocation was pretty helpful, too. He had four pesky stalkers constantly on his ass. The most frequent two were pretty troublesome. One was quite small, but she was fast. By the time Jack realized she was in the area, she was already on him. Luckily, he was able to fling her off. It’d lead to a frustrating chase of her constantly attaching herself to him and him throwing her off, until something shifted in her and she retreated. For her, it was about persistence.

➣The other frequent stalker was odd. Jack would be miserably eating a raw deer, until he clicked his tongue and realized that one was hiding in a tree. His stalker had climbed through the branches. While Jack thought it was goofy, that stalker had terrifyingly accurate aim and power behind his throws. Jack was frequently assaulted with a hatchet to a limb or his back, and while the flesh would quickly knit itself back together, this stalker was more persistent than the other. 

➣For a damn year, this went on. Jack was barely a human. He became a local cryptid in the Tuscaloosa forest, and the proxies were beyond pissed about it. They didn't want more attention on this damn forest. He caused so much trouble, and he bruised Toby’s ego while doing it. 

➣Toby just got lucky one day. Jack had spent nearly a month fully conscious, the entity seeming to release his body entirely. He was in full control of himself once again, but it meant very little when he had no idea what to do with himself. 

➣He pathetically sat at his river, his keratin-coated fingers resting beneath the softly rushing water. He knew Toby, whose name he heard yelled amongst his stalkers, was watching him. Jack just chose not to do anything about it. He washed his hands and tried to relax in the water. When that familiar hatchet came barreling his way, he didn’t even hesitate. His hand reached up and he caught it by the handle. The second hatchet came and he caught it once again. His head didn’t even turn. 

➣He heard the same exasperated, angry shout from Toby. “What the hell is your problem, dude?!”

➣Jack’s ears perked up. He turned his head to face Toby, more as a formality. “My problem…?”

➣His voice was deep and horse. At this point, Toby’s voice was more familiar than his own. It startled both him and his stalker. So of course, Toby had to ask, “You can talk?”

➣Although hesitant, Toby made his way to Jack. The monster of a man never tried to hurt him or the others before, he mostly fought to defend himself. And Jack wasn’t concerned, he still held Toby’s hatchets. Jack offered a weak explanation of his situation, leaving major details out. He didn’t say Jenny’s name or bring up their relationship. Just mentioned a club, the torture, and his new body. 

➣Toby connected some dots for him. Explained the issue of Slenderman, the Operator, and Zalgo. They went back and forth, with Toby poking fun at Jack’s somber, stoic attitude. It seemed that Jack’s body purged itself of those entities, an unclear anomaly for the proxies.

➣Toby thought Jack was really cool. And figured he could be useful, too.

JACK’S ROLE

➣Jack was brought to the proxy cabin by Toby, much to the frustration of Tim and Brian. Jack was dirty, bloody, and uncomfortable as Toby bickered back and forth with the older men. It didn’t help that Brian was currently dealing with a nasty wound in his thigh, further amping up the frustration and fear between the group.

➣Toby insisted Jack was alright. He was big, he was strong, he had scary instincts. Tim repeatedly declared that he’s dangerous and useless to their job as proxies. He caught wind that Jack’s attention was geared towards Brian, who was propped up on the couch and bleeding onto it. A pathetic excuse for a tourniquet was wrapped around his thigh, and it got Tim riled up. ➣He shouted at Toby to get Jack out of the damn cabin, implying that some sort of monstrous instincts were bound to overtake Jack, especially with a bleeding man before him.

➣Jack finally spoke up. He defended himself quietly at first, saying he wasn’t staring because he was hungry. He was staring because of how poorly the tourniquet was done. The men were all a little taken aback by this, with Brian sarcastically asking if Jack could do better. 

➣Jack could, and tentatively, they let him. They let him explain his situation again, and with their understanding of his inhumanity and half-completed graduate degree, they realized how good of a problem this could be. They could take advantage of it, despite Tim's apprehension.

➣Jack was designated the ‘proxy medic.’ He was ushered to a small, one-bedroom cabin with a tiny bunker beneath it. He was given permission to live peacefully in the forest, away from public scrutiny, if he just took care of the proxy’s wounds.

➣It was a nice little place. Sure, it was dusty and bothered his heightened senses for a while, but Toby helped him tidy it up. The furniture was old and Toby had to drag an old mattress from a thrift store to replace the rotting one at Jack's cabin, but it worked out.

➣The bunker was a bit shameful for Jack. They managed to get large fridges hooked up down there, giving Jack the opportunity to keep himself fed over longer periods. It made the whole arrangement safer for everyone.

JACK'S RELATIONSHIPS

➣He eventually found himself settled comfortably in his cabin. Toby was the main visitor for a good period of time, until new faces began popping in and out. 

➣Kate ‘the Chaser’ was the second most frequent visitor, though she was commonly dragged behind Toby. She very rarely came on her own, unless her situation was dire.

➣Eventually, he began meeting people just as weird as himself. A girl who insists her name is Clockwork, tall and lanky and snappy. A pair of short guys came shortly after, one constantly littered with wounds that Jack would stitch up. He’d bring Jack meals as payment. Jeff and BEN were their names, who heard of Jack through Clocky. Eventually, a pretty young woman on Toby’s arm came by frequently. Nina was all over Jack for a few weeks, until she eventually settled down and their friendship could become steady. Some days, he walked another eyeless college student named Lulu back to her hospital.

➣Albeit appreciative, none of these friendships filled the ache. Jack grew up family-oriented. He grew up with so many little siblings to take care of, and he spent a year fantasizing about a family with Jenny. He was riddled with too much shame to return home.

➣It wasn’t until a little demon girl came kicking and screaming into his life. Lazari was the daughter of Zalgo, the same entity that took over his body for nearly a year. Just like him, the proxies were hunting her, and just like him, she evaded every attack. 

➣Jack was able to reason with her. He caught her sniffling and crying. He brought her into his arms and into his home. He made her dinner, brushed her long brown hair, and told her it would be okay. They were like siblings, weren’t they? Both were made this way by the same demon.

➣From here on out, Jack’s dedicated himself to Lazari. Quickly, Lazari filled the role of a little sister. 

➣If Lazari could be just as monstrous as him, and yet filled with so much love and life…

➣Maybe Jack could be alright with his wavering humanity, too.

[analog-cottage-gore]

Hey I saw you were looking for questions about your Wtd aus? Well i couldn't pick one so here's a question for all of them!

Hazelnut tree: What's the alison in this au like? I would love to see his dynamic with more characters and we know he ends up with hazel. I wonder what his rule following personality would look like next to winnies moral roulette wheel.

Scaly secrets: You said some of the cast were dragons? Which ones!? And what colors. Are they all the same kinda dragon or different styles?

Cryptic Dreams: Is everyone a cryptid or are some of them hunters? What are some ways they avoid the hunters using their cryptid abblites?

Superhero: what are their powers? Understandable if you haven't got that all figured out yet. Superheroes are hard. So i'm also going to ask are they all heroes or are some of them villains and vigilantes. 

Post cannon au: Who shares rooms? How many bunk beds? Or do they all get their own room?

Mixed marriages: Where did you get the idea for the kingdom names you wrote about in the snippet you posted?

Robotic fantasy (I LOVE EXTRA ANGST): I noticed we are in a lot of the same fandoms so what other fandoms exactly are being thrown into the mix here? And what's your favorite duo of a WTD character partnered with a non WTD character?

I'm sorry if it's a lot of questions I have a lot to ask! Hearing about cool stuff like this always inspires me! Gets me thinking you know? They just all sound so cool! Hope you don't mind the length!

Salty I am so fucking happy you don't even know, this is my favorite ask ever I couldn't even imagine this!!!!!! I don't mind the length the length lets me ramble about my ideas which I need to do!!!!!!

Hazelnut tree: Allison would probably secretly tag along with Hazel and Night Light, and therefore ends up talking to the whole little group that's building. Allison would hate Winnie before his redemption due to helping Litho so much. After Win's redemption though? They'd probably get along relatively well, helped by the fact that I'm pretty sure their related, and at the very least they are in HNT.

Scaly Secrets: Currently the dragons consist of; Sara, Wiatt, Carly, Mike, The Triplets, and Winnie! Sara is dark pink, Wiatt is blue, Carly is light pink, Mike is orange, the Triplets are their respective animatron main colors, and Winnie is purple. Kept the color choices simple. Currently I don't have any great ideas on designs/abilities for the dragons, but I'm working on it! (They're all technically dragon shifters btw)

Cryptic Dreams: The cryptids are all the animatronic possessers (minus Eric who has a different deal going on) and Sara and the Twins. The main plot revolves around Wiatt, Damian, Celio, and Oliver thinking all tge cryptids have been taken by cryptids since they don't know they are the cryptids. So they team up with actual cryptid hunters to find them. Carly is also in the team to try and keep everyone from finding out about the cryptids while also stopping them from getting hurt. They use their abilities in a lot of ways, mainly to trap the hunters.

Superheros: Decided to answer both at once with a list, not everyone had powers decided on yet. A lot of them use the animatronic names as alter egos, and those who don't have. Kinda bad names lol.

Heros: Starlight (Lewis)* [????? And Specialized Telekinesis], Glory (Alyssa) [Water Manipulation and Siren Song], Rex (Mike), Ribbon Dancer (Ribbion Dancer)

Vigilantes: ???? (Wiatt) [Tech Manipulation], Detective (Damian) [Power Sight], The Triplets (The Triplets), Cheer (Carly) [Super Speed]

Villains: Shadina (Sara) [Shadow Powers and Specilized Telekinesis], Tela (Oliver)* [Tech Manipulation and Specilized Telekinesis], Winnie (Carlos/Winnie), Litho (Litho) [Shadow Powers], Lolli (Liz)*, Pop (Ben)*

(*depends on where in the plot they are)

Post Canon: As a general rule, all couples and young siblings share a room. So we got:

Lewis/Wiatt

Mike/Alyssa

Oliver/Damian

Liz/Ben

Mascarade/Melody/Mimic

Eric(/Ribbion Dancer technically)

Carly

Sara

Celio (maybe, idk if they're gonna live with everyone else)

Fun fact, the house they live in is the mansion Wiatt was implied to have lived in during highschool!

Mixed Marriages: The kingdom names cam from me translating a word relating to the character who's a royal in that kingdom into Spanish and Russian before mushing them together and making it look and sound like a kingdom name.

Robotic Fantasy: Pretty much all of them. We got:

WTDW

SAMS

FNAF SB in general

ESMP

MCYT in general

Maybe some of my oc's???

Personally I like Lewis, Moon, and Pearl's dynamic. They go through some shit together.

Also!!! Bonus new AU:

Mcyt (mainly empires) and Wtdw popstar AU has been circling in my head recently, so add it to tge list of AU's

[owlf45]

Teehee!!

Was this cyber's idea to start with or yours or did you both just, at the same time...

[friendcorp]

God the blorbo posting got me an idea, I guess it's an AU idea???

I like to think that work doesn't involve just making sure you have high work success. Like part of the job is befriending the abnos. So they're less likely to breach and attack their nugget friends. Maybe they could provide unique ego gifts to their besties!

I think my favorite part of this, I guess you could call it a "sub plot"(?) is that Julian began talking like that after working with Fragment of the Universe, which; canonically speaking just wants to befriend people and share knowledge with us.

Most associates Julian is working with have to deal with like, the Lady facing the Wall, or a Tree that will Eat You™ but Julian works with the abno who took the form of a child's doodle because it saw that the form made the child happy, Julian works with the abno who is technically able to communicate and will often mimic positive human behavior like laughing. Of course Julian would run around like "not all abnos are bad guys come on" I do love how others seem to be picking up on it and listening though, to the point where they're having whole ass conversations about how to better analyze the abnos to create conditions better suited for their overall happiness.

I can't wait for the day when Julian meets the poor employee who has to work with Nothing There and is just like "Oh cool, yours talks too!?"

-Cryptid

[favoritemtgcard-supplemental]

Every Nomination In Alphabetical Order

Aether Vial

Aetherflux Reservoir

Agatha's Soul Cauldron

Akroma, Vision of Ixidor

Alesha, Who Smiles at Death

Altered Ego

Aragorn, Company Leader

Arcades, the Strategist

Arcane Denial

Arcbond

Arcbound Crusher

Archangel Avacyn

Archive Trap

Arclight Phoenix

Armored Armadillo

Ashiok, Dream Render

Ashling the Pilgrim

Ashnod, Flesh Mechanist

Asmoranomardicadaistinaculdacar

Astarion's Thirst

Athreos, God of Passage

Atraxa, Grand Unifier

Augur of Autumn

Auramancer

Avatar of Me

Bakersbane Duo

Baleful Strix

Ball Lightning

Bane Alley Broker

Baylen, the Haymaker

Bearscape

Bioshift

Biovisionary

Bitterblossom

Black Lotus

Blasphemous Act

Blazing Archon

Boldwyr Intimidator

Bonecrusher Giant

Bovine Intervention

Brainstorm

Brash Taunter

Breach the Multiverse

Breaker of Armies

Brilliant Restoration

Brute Suit

Cadira, Caller of the Small

Canyon Minotaur

Capashen Knight

Captain N'ghathrod

Captivating Crew

Carnivorous Plant

Chainsaw

Chandra, Dressed to Kill

Chandra, Fire of Kaladesh

Chandra, Torch of Defiance

Chandra's Regulator

Chaos Warp

Chatter of the Squirrel

Chatterfang, Squirrel General

Cheatyface

Chub Toad

Collected Company

Colossal Dreadmaw

Colossification

Colossus Hammer

Comet, Stellar Pup

Conjurer's Closet

Conqueror's Galleon

Consecrated Sphinx

Consuming Aberration

Corpsejack Menace

Counterspell

Crackle with Power

Craterhoof Behemoth

Cruel Ultimatum

Cryptic Command

Cryptid Inspector

Cut Your Losses

Damnation

Dance of the Manse

Dapper Shieldmate

Daretti, Scrap Savant

Dark Depths

Dark Ritual

Darksteel Colossus

Darksteel Myr

Darksteel Relic

Dawnfluke

Daze

Death's Shadow

Deathbonnet Sprout

Delver of Secrets

Demand Answers

Diplomatic Escort

Dollmaker's Shop/Porcelain Gallery

Doom Blade

Doomsday

Doubling Season

Dragon's Rage Channeler

Drakuseth, Maw of Flames

Dryad of the Ilysian Grove

Dueling Rapier

Dutiful Thrull

Earl of Squirrel

Earthbind

Ebon Praetor

Echo of Eons

Edge of Autumn

Elas il-Kor, Sadistic Pilgrim

Elderscale Wurm

Electrickery

Elesh Norn

Elesh Norn, Grand Cenobite

Elesh Norn, Mother of Machines

Elspeth, Sun's Champion

Elvish Visionary

Emrakul, the Aeons Torn

Emrakul, the Promised End

Enchanted Evening

Enormous Baloth

Enter the Dungeon

Enthralling Victor

Etali, Primal Conqueror

Etali, Primal Storm

Eternal Dominion

Exterminatus

Extremely Slow Zombie

Ezuri, Claw of Progress

Faithless Looting

Fiery Emancipation

Firestorm

Flameborn Viron

Flickerwisp

Floral Spuzzem

Flubs, the Fool

Fog Bank

Forest

Fortress Crab

Fumiko the Lowblood

Gallia of the Endless Dance

Galvanic Blast

Generous Gift

Ghalta, Primal Hunger

Ghired, Conclave Exile

Ghoulcaller Gisa

Giant Growth

Gift of Orzhova

Gifts Ungiven

Gigantosaurus

Gisa, Glorious Resurrector

Gisela, the Broken Blade

Gitaxian Probe

Glimmerpost

Gnat Miser

Goblin Chainwhirler

God-Pharaoh's Statue

Godo's Irregulars

Goldberry, River-Daughter

Golgothian Sylex

Gonti, Lord of Luxury

Grand Arbiter Augustin IV

Greasefang, Okiba Boss

Greta, Sweettooth Scourge

Grindclock

Grist, the Hunger Tide

Grusilda, Monster Masher

Gush

Gut Shot

Halana and Alena, Partners

Halcyon Glaze

Half-Kitten, Half-

Hamlet Glutton

Heartbeat of Spring

Heliod, Sun-Crowned

Hellkite Tyrant

Hero of Goma Fada

Hexdrinker

Hibernation's End

Holy Cow

Homicidal Seclusion

Hot Soup

How To Keep An Izzet Mage Busy

Ilharg, the Raze-Boar

Indestructible Aura

Inflation Station

Inkmoth Nexus

Introduction to Prophecy

Invoke the Firemind

Irencrag Pyromancer

Island

It That Betrays

Ixhel, Scion of Atraxa

Jace, the Mind Sculptor

Jaya Ballard, Task Mage

Jeska's Will

Jetmir, Nexus of Revels

Jhoira of the Ghitu

Jon Irenicus, Shattered One

Kangee, Aerie Keeper

Karn, Silver Golem

Karn, the Great Creator

Karn's Temporal Sundering

Killer Bees

Kiln Fiend

Kodama of the East Tree

Kor Skyfisher

Koth of the Hammer

Krenko, Mob Boss

Kruphix, God of Horizons

Kuldotha Phoenix

Lich's Mastery

Lightning Bolt

Liliana Vess

Liliana, Heretical Healer

Llanowar Elves

Loam Larva

Long-Term Plans

Looter il-Kor

Lord of the Void

Lord of Tresserhorn

Lotleth Troll

Loxodon Warhammer

Luminous Broodmoth

Lux Cannon

Lyra Dawnbringer

Maarika, Brutal Gladiator

Mabel, Heir to Cragflame

Madcap Skills

Magus of the Moon

Mana Tithe

Mantis Rider

March of the Multitudes

Massacre Girl

Master Biomancer

Maze of Ith

Maze's End

Mechanized Production

Megatog

Mindbreak Trap

Mishra, Lost to Phyrexia

Mishra's War Machine

Mogg Sentry

Moltensteel Dragon

Monastery Swiftspear

Mother of Goons

Mountain

Mulldrifter

Murder

Murmuring Mystic

Mycoloth

Myr Superion

Myrel, Shield of Argive

Mysterious Egg

Nahiri, the Harbinger

Narset, Enlightened Master

Nethroi, Apex of Death

Nimbus Swimmer

Niv-Mizzet, Parun

Nyx-Fleece Ram

Obeka, Splitter of Seconds

Obsidian Fireheart

Okiba Reckoner Raid

Oko, Thief of Crowns

Olivia Voldaren

Omnath, Locus of All

Omnath, Locus of Creation

Omnath, Locus of Mana

Omnath, Locus of Rage

Omnath, Locus of the Roil

Omnivorous Flytrap

Oni-Cult Anvil

Oona, Queen of the Fae

Oracle of the Alpha

Panglacial Wurm

Panharmonicon

Perplexing Chimera

Phage the Untouchable

Phalanx Leader

Phyrexian Dreadnought

Phyrexian Gargantua

Phyrexian Unlife

Plague Myr

Plague Rats

Plains

Planar Portal

Ponder

Pontiff of Blight

Possibility Storm

Pouncing Shoreshark

Price of Progress

Prime Speaker Vannifar

Primeval Titan

Primordial Hydra

Prismari Command

Prodigal Sorcerer

Progenitus

Pyromancer Ascension

Queza, Augur of Agonies

Rage Forger

Raging Goblin

Ral, Crackling Wit

Rancor

Raugrin Triome

Renegade Rallier

Reprisal

Repudiate/Replicate

Rhys the Redeemed

Riku of Two Reflections

Rin and Seri, Inseparable

Rise of the Hobgoblins

Rograkh, Son of Rohgahh

Rona, Herald of Invasion

Rowan, Scion of War

Run Away Together

Ruthless Negotiation

Ruthless Technomancer

Ryusei, the Falling Star

Sakura-Tribe Elder

Satoru Umezawa

Savor the Moment

Scragnoth

Scute Mob

Secret Rendezvous

Seedtime

Selesnya Evangel

Shabraz, the Skyshark

Shadow of Doubt

Sharktocrab

Shock

Slickshot Show-Off

Slime Against Humanity

Sliver Legion

Smothering Tithe

Snapcaster Mage

Sol Ring

Solemn Simulacrum

Soraya the Falconer

Soul-Guide Lantern

Soulmates

Spike Breeder

Spined Fluke

Spy Kit

Star of Extinction

Stasis

Stifle

Stoneforge Mystic

Storm Crow

Stormtide Leviathan

Storybook Ride

Stuffy Doll

Sun Titan

Supreme Verdict

Surgical Extraction

Swamp

Swirling Sandstorm

Swords to Plowshares

Takklemaggot

Tamiyo, Inquisitive Student

Tamiyo, the Moon Sage

Tarmogoyf

Tempt with Bunnies

Tendershoot Dryad

Teshar, Ancestor's Apostle

Thalia, Guardian of Thraben

Thalia, Heretic Cathar

Thallid

Thassa, Deep-Dwelling

Thassa's Oracle

The Cheese Stands Alone

The Gitrog Monster

The Infamous Cruelclaw

The One Ring

Thoughtseize

Thragtusk

Thrashing Brontodon

Thrill of Possibility

Throes of Chaos

Tibalt, the Fiend-Blooded

Time Stop

Titanic Ultimatum

Toby, Beastie Befriender

Topplegeist

Tormented Soul

Totally Lost

Tough Cookie

Trading Post

Tragic Slip

Triumph of the Hordes

Trueheart Duelist

Typhoid Rats

Unable to Scream

Underrealm Lich

Unexpected Results

Unlicensed Disintegration

Unsummon

Urabrask

Urza, Academy Headmaster

Urza, Lord High Artificer

Urza's Ruinous Blast

Utopia Mycon

Vengeful Dead

Vexing Devil

Veyran, Voice of Duality

Vile Aggregate

Village Rites

Vizzerdrix

Vorinclex

Vraska, Betrayal's Sting

Vraska, Relic Seeker

Vraska, Scheming Gorgon

Warleader's Call

Waste Not

Wedding Announcement

Wedding Invitation

Weight Advantage

Westvale Abbey

Whirler Rogue

Will-o'-the-Wisp

Witness Protection

Wood Elves

Wordmail

Wurmcoil Engine

Xira, the Golden Sting

Yargle, Glutton of Urborg

Yawgmoth, Thran Physician

Yennett, Cryptic Sovereign

Yoshimaru, Ever Faithful

Zhur-Taa Goblin

Zoetic Cavern

[owlf45]

Get booped loser

BOOPING YOU

[oraculate]

@lotharioi A NIGHT OF DARK TREES for a brief, hazardous moment, he considers the possibility that the freak may tackle him for it, and so his arm lowers a few inches. i should stick to my guns more often, a stray thought in the back of his mind. that's loser talk, and he won't indulge any of it.

lijae is no stranger to the woods around goreo or their hallowed embrace, the ancient whisper of wind through branches, the dappling of the sun through the leaves. as a child she imagined herself more attuned to nature by virtue of her birth, her status as a would-be-shaman, some greater connection to the earth. imagined she could see fae creatures between the trunks or nestled in the trees, calling out to bring her to some different, better world. she imagined, while leaning over silvery pools and their strangely still water, that if she pressed her fingertips to her reflection a door to another realm might open before her that she might be whisked away from the oppressive weight of life in her little town.

in time it became clear the forest held secrets, but none so fanciful as the dreams of a lost little girl, and lijae shuttered her heart to hope and welcomed, instead, a sickly fascination with the tales of the cryptid that was rumored to stalk between the trees. as beaten sneakers crunch over fallen leaves, they carry her to a little clearing dotted with wide, flat stones that spoke to some ancient waterway long dried. it's been a favorite spot for meandering youth in the town for some decades now, she's sure, and it is often sparsely attended now for obvious reasons (none the least because the frequency at which she and jiyul grace it with their presence tends to drive others away). thus it is marked as the meeting place du jour, such as it were, a plaid and threadbare blanket spread over the rock for a semblance of comfort, an old habit to ward off the inevitable cold as the sun descends. she can hear kyubok coming before she sees him, the crack and rustle of feet unfamiliar with the forest, a certain lumbering and clumsy gait of those unfamiliar with the wilds. she finds it amusingly dichotomous to the strict control of his visage a he appears, each slant of his lips perfected, the cock of his head calculated, words curling like the spoke from her cigarette, deft as they coil in the air. lijae exhales a cloud of smoke towards the sky, eyes flicking to the clouds for a moment where they peek between the leaves, cuts her gaze thoughtfully back towards the decidedly out of place stranger. "you look like a bull in a china shop," she drawls back at him, an unreadable stare before she heaves a soft sigh, scoots over. "flattery will get you every where. stroke my ego a little more, will ya?" the words fall flat and dry, a slant of her lips to match the drawl, one leg dangling off the rock so the toe of her sneakers can rustle the leaves gently. "it's kloud, you absolute buffoon. i might be a backwoods loser but i'm also an alcoholic and i know for a fact it's 4 for 15k won down at the mart." she knows it because she works there overnights sometimes. you can chart inflation by the changes in the 4 can sales price, and she has. it was 10k when she picked up the shift five years ago. fucking capitalism. she exhales another cloud of smoke, but this one she aims at him. he deserves it, big businessman he is. "how 'bout we make a trade instead," she offers, "i've got cigarette, company, and a few sweet words if you're lucky. what strikes your fancy, hotshot?" dark eyes canvas him again, lingering on the reddened knuckles around the bottles, the cloud of breath from his lips. "got a blanket, too. we can cuddle up," she lilts, lips twitching in a quick slant of a grin, barely more than a flash, never lingering.

[lostcybertronian]

For the Prompts, how about "I Can't Control It"? Um, I'm not sure on the who for the Egos so, Imma gonna let you decide! HAPPY WRITING!

The one time Mark managed to bust through Celine's defenses. I imagine it took a lot of energy out of her.

Tags: @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss @darkiplurrr @darksaceofshadows @moonysmayhem @xpouii @projectwkm @sororia04s @purple-anxiety-blog @rabbitsartcorner @endangered-cryptid-reblogs @tried-my-best @skatle-skootle-demon-noodle

No amount of logs fed into the hearth could produce a fire that could heat the tiny cabin room; so Damien huddled under the threadbare blanket, holding his gloved hands as close to the flame as he could stand, willing feeling back into his numb fingers.

Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windowpanes. Heavy gusts of snow painted the landscape white, obscuring any view through the fogged glass. Damien worried for Celine, out there in the storm with only a rifle to protect herself. He worried that the winter would never end, and that they would never leave this cabin. Had it always been this way?

He couldn’t remember.

At some point he crawled into the creaking wooden cot they called a bed. At another point– much, much later– he must have fallen asleep. Because he woke up not to the roaring wind outside, but to the soft drip-drip-dripping of water to the floor.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Damien groaned. Pried his groggy eyes open. Turned onto his back to stare at the ceiling; he’d just repaired the roof a couple days ago, and it was leaking again?

But the more he lay there, breathing in, breathing out, his breath fogging up the now-dim air, the more it didn’t sound like the dripping of water. Not at all.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Fingernails against wood.

“Celine?” Had she come back? Damien sat up.

It was not Celine sitting at the table, but a figure Damien could not identify immediately. It hurt to look at him directly, leaving him with just the fringe details; a crimson coattail, shiny, slicked-back hair free of flecks of snow, the shiny end of a cane jutting into the old wood.

“Not Celine.” The figure drawled slowly, a thin grin snaking across his face. “Come, old friend, you don’t recognize me? You’d think with all the effort it took me to get here I’d receive a warmer welcome.”

Wait. Damien got up, stumbled, sat back down, clutching his head as half-formed memories flooded his brain. “You’re-” he stammered, “you’re supposed to be dead.”

Mark’s grin turned bitter, more like a grimace. Tap-tap-tap went his fingers to the table. “Funny how that works out, isn’t it?”

A million questions bubbled to the surface, overcoming, overwhelming. Damien opened his mouth to voice one– any one– but Mark waved a hand. “I don’t have time for your questions. It won’t be long until she realizes that I’m here.”

“Here.” The same fucking cabin they’d been in for how long? The same trees, cut down day after day, yet the firewood pile never seemed to grow bigger. Damien’s head ached. “Where is here?”

Mark’s eyebrows rose, and there was that smile again, Cheshire-wide. “You mean she hasn’t told you?”

Their gazes met. For the first time Damien noticed the sickly-sweet scent of decay hanging in the air, overwhelming the acrid stench of old ash.

Go on. Ask. Mark’s eyes bored into him, oily black irises swallowing his pupils. He’d never seen eyes that dark. Had never known eyes like that would belong to his friend.

He opened his mouth.

The ground began to shake. Red light seeped under the door and lit up the snowstorm outside.

Mark flung one hand out and an invisible force threw Damien to the floor. He stood, gripping his cane in one hand as he turned on one polished shoe to face the door right as it burst open, spilling snow and wind and red sparks into the cabin.

“You!” An axe flew through the air, missing Mark by a hair’s breadth. It clattered to the floor, clunking to the wall by the bed, mere feet from Damien. Celine charged in moments later, her rifle clutched in her hands, her face tight with fury.

“Me?” A sinister smile seemed to split Mark’s face in half, opening to a black maw of perfect teeth. Rows and rows of them. The cane snapped out and Celine stopped dead, her eyes widening as she suddenly found herself immobile and suspended. “I’d wondered when I’d see you again, dearest Celine.”

“Celine?” Damien watched as she struggled, caught in Mark’s grip, her rifle pinned to her chest.

“Damien!” Her cry was strangled. Anger and fear contorted her gaunt face.

Damien struggled to his feet, breaths coming in heavy pants, fogging the frigid air in front of him. “Mark! What are you doing?”

“If you trust me you need to run, Damien,” Mark grunted. Red began to spiderweb Celine’s invisible bonds, casting her face into sharp shadow. “I can’t control her for long.”

“What do you mean?” What was going on? Damien’s eyes darted from Mark to Celine, his friend to his sister. Mark’s entire focus was on keeping Celine contained. But Celine’s gaze was on him, even as she forced her way free of Mark’s power.

Mark risked a glance back at him. His eyes were hard. Something about his snarl sent chills down Damien’s spine. “Run, you naive fool! She’s a liar and a witch. She’s deceiving you! I can get you out of this forest! Back to your old life as mayor!”

“No!” Damien dove for the axe, snatching it up as there was an explosion of crimson. Celine raised her rifle.

Bam! The bullet plunged into Mark’s chest at the same time Damien’s axe buried itself into his back. The actor lurched forward, clutching at wounds that spilled black, black that soon became a fog and evaporated into the wind. He laughed. Tipped back his head and howled.

Then, he disintegrated.

Damien sank to his knees, feeling as if everything he’d known had been stripped from him. He looked up at Celine, hovering in the doorway. Wind whipped at her hair. She held her rifle tight to her chest, her face was grim. And tired.

“Now I’m going to need to hunt the bastard down again.” She said, half-mumbling, half to herself.

“What- you can’t go out now! You need to explain to me what the hell just happened!” Damien gestured to her, to the axe, abandoned on the floor, to the open door and the roaring snowstorm. The strength of his fury surprised even him. “I need answers, Celine!”

She glanced at him, as if remembering he was there. Then, she crossed the room. Helped him to his feet. “Answers will come later,” she said. “But for now, you need to rest.”

“How can I possibly-” she touched his forehead. That was it; a mere brush of her fingertips. Their surroundings flickered, and-

No amount of logs fed into the hearth could produce a fire that could heat the tiny cabin room; so Damien huddled under the threadbare blanket, holding his gloved hands as close to the flame as he could stand, willing feeling back into his numb fingers.

Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windowpanes. Heavy gusts of snow painted the landscape white, obscuring any view through the fogged glass. Damien worried for Celine, out there in the storm with only a rifle to protect herself. He worried that the winter would never end, and that they would never leave this cabin. Had it always been this way?

He couldn’t remember.

[crystal-moon-101]

Many years ago, when cryptids were plentiful across the world, there were known to be anomalies within cryptid species from time to time. Very rare beings who were born different and with unusual powers or great strength. There were many theories as to why this happened, many pointing to the gods gifting these creatures with great powers and with great destinies to coincide. 

Somewhere along the way, a group called the Lemurian formed a sanctuary for these unusual cryptids, tasking themselves to collect them whenever they appear, and bring them to the sanctuary to teach them and help them discover their destiny, along with raising them to their full power. One year, three new cryptids were brought in, a dragon named Kur, a phoenix named Simurgh, and a rainbow serpent called Araǵanaqlta’a, who were all born with unusual looks and powers. 

Kur was the most noticeable and strangest of them all, with powers tied to every cryptid in the world. Of course, always seeing these as a blessing from the gods, many were quick to assume that Kur’s role would be the King of all cryptids, and big plans were being built around Kur, placing him on a high pedestal. Kur was a wide eye young child when brought him, eager to see where his destiny would lead him, and somewhat excited to become a king.

Simurgh was a rainbowish phoenix with a gift in super strength and powerful fire control, along with the ability to purify things from corruptions of dark magic. Simurgh is a gentle being and was always eager to please the ones around her as a child, always being a bright student for the Lemurians. 

Araǵanaqlta’a was a rainbow serpent born with unusual plating and hooked tail end, along with the strange tentacles formed around his neck. Like other rainbow serpents, he had powers related to weather, but he seemed to be more powerful, able to range over multiple lands and any environment. As a young child, he was rather shy, but wanted to see where this would all lead him as he wanted to be something worthwhile.

So the three grew up together as close friends, siblings even, sticking together through the harsh moments in their training, often daydreaming about the future they’ll have and what their lives will be like together once they all find their destiny. But sadly, the idea of destiny and fate ended up being their downfall. 

It started when Simurgh found her placement in life, that being the guardian of the Tree Of Life. Unlike most other students, she found this role on her own and by chance, proving her worth by herself and settling into the role she gave herself, believing this to be her destiny as she fit into it rather well. This, in turn, started to make Araǵanaqlta’a think about his future, as he still had no plans, nor did the Lemurians offer him much at the time beyond training his powers. Kur, ever since brought in, had a destiny/role picked out for him, one that he was still excited for. But it was clear that the ego was getting to his head as his role to be the king drew closer and closer and closer.

By the time Kur was ready to be crowned king, the Lemurians had found what they believed to be Araǵanaqlta’a’s destiny, to be the ruler of the weather across the world. This seemed fitting to his powers and everything he built up towards, and he did give it a shot but...it didn’t satisfy him, it didn’t feel like this is what he should be, or at least what he wanted to be. But this was his destiny, wasn’t it? He couldn’t pick another role, that’s not how it worked. 

But as he watched his two friends enjoy their new roles, living in the moment, he couldn’t help but feel bitter. Was this all his life was building up to be? Then why did he feel so wrong? Why couldn’t he get to pick to be what he wanted to be, like Simurgh? Was it wrong of him to hate this role he was given?

As the three took on their roles, their friendship slowly faded over time, too busy to talk much, beyond the few visits to the Lemurians. But eventually, Araǵanaqlta’a disappeared, noticed when the weather began to have a lack of control like it once had. People were confused, with the Lemurians scrambling to find him while Simurgh and Kur pondered what could have happened with their old friend.

Until one day, Araǵanaqlta’a came back, but something had changed with him. He arrived at the sanctuary where their main teacher/caretaker was talking to Kur and Simurgh, who were all quick to question where Araǵanaqlta’a had been. He simply stated he took time for himself, and has come to the idea that destiny was false, that it had no proof, that the Lemurians had lied to them all and just put them in roles that suited their needs best, instead of letting them pick. It became very clear that Araǵanaqlta’a was bitter, upset and damaged by the expectations in life, quickly stating he was going against destiny to find what he wanted to be, even going as far as to change his name to Leviathan.

The teacher, Kur and Simurgh tried arguing with him, but it soon broke out into a fight, with Leviathan killing the teacher, and Kur eventually kicking him out. Simurgh was heartbroken by the downfall of their friend, and the death of their teacher, along with Kur. But something was off about the King Of Cryptids after that day, taking in what Leviathan had said about fate being wrong. Because by now, Kur too felt unsatisfied by his role, bored with it even, especially after all the hype up to it. It made him wonder how much he wanted to be King, and if this was his destiny.

This all eventually led into the war with humans and cryptids, with Kur becoming a tyrant of cold blood who came to think maybe his destiny was to kill all humans and save cryptids from them, but he lost himself in the rage of war. Simurgh, not agreeing with any of this and trapped by the weight of grief and guilt, fled to her hidden tree to hide from the world. Meanwhile, Leviathan began wandering the earth, searching for a purpose he deemed worthy for himself, along the way even creating creatures in his images, the most noticeable being the Nagas, giving him the title the Father Of All Snakes, but even that role didn’t satisfy him. 

After ruling his serpent creations for a while, Leviathan began to ignore them in favour of searching for his next role, hoping this time it was what he wanted. Meanwhile, when the Nagas were under attack by humans, Kur swooped in to save them, almost dying in the process. Because of this, the Nagas shifted their worshipping onto Kur, becoming his loyal followers. Leviathan caught wind of this, and while he didn’t care much for his creations, he felt it was unfair of Kur to steal what belonged to him.

The two ended up in one of the harshes fights of the war, neither being able to kill the other, ending with Kur using his powers to send Leviathan deep underwater to slumber, before chaining him up in case he ever awoke. And that is where Leviathan lays for many, many years, no longer apart of the war that rages on for so long, to the point where Kur forever regrets the choices he made, leading to his death and soul being placed in the Kur stone. While Simurgh refused to leave her hiding place with the tree, stuck in grief, pain and sorrow for what happened to her home, family and friends...

[orange-waterfalls]

Reader w/ wings headcanons(Markiplier Alter Egos)

ty @fancybootm​ for the request!

A/N: i just did all of them. every-all-everyone. Except Yandereplier, Silver Shepard, Ed Edgar... maybe others I’m not aware of at the moment... I tried to stick with a certain number of egos, but my hands just... they just kept moving. It is 11:00 pm when im writing this ya boy is TIRED. there are 1.6k words. It seems longer than it is bc bullet points. Bear with me. You can find the egos that you want easily. The reader is gender neutral. i am so sorry if this is not what you meant lol. on the bright side this is a good reference for all the egos i am open to writing for(also maybe others idk) so uh im keeping it enjoy. I’ll say... a T rating for cursing and also a bit of violence but literally like 20 words. mentions of injury. that’s it.

Requests are open!

Y/N(reader) with wings hcs

No one knows what the fuck you are, not even you

Ya got wings. That’s it.

Are you an angel? A faery? A phoenix? Who knows

You woke up one day in a forest remembering nothing

But you had wings

And then you got shot with an arrow

You ran away and hid in a cave

Darkiplier spends most of his time around you studying you

To see what you could possibly be

He still doesn’t know

He’s settled for calling you a “cryptid”

He’s slightly annoyed with the feathers you leave around the manor

He won’t tell you bc you can’t control that and it’d be rude

You read together in his study on occasion

You sit on the floor bc your wings get uncomfortable in chairs

In sympathy, he also sits on the floor

You think it’s sweet

You told him so and he sputtered out a “shut up and read your book”

He’s fairly fond of you

You’re good company to keep around

Wilford was the one who found you

He was walking through the forest, as one does, when he saw GIANT feathers

Naturally, he followed them

He found you in a cave with an arrow in your shoulder

He took you back to the manor and patched you up

He begged Dark to keep you there

He promised not to kill anybody for a month

He made it 15 days, which is a record

He’s very protective of you, not letting you out a lot since uh… hunters

You are his Sweet Little Songbird, light of his life, wind in his sails, 

if anything happens to you he will kill everyone in the manor and then himself

He helps you preen a lot

His hands are very gentle, surprisingly 

He spends the most time with you out of everyone

You play games, talk(well, he talks to you), and just hang out

He loves and adores you with his whole heart

Actor tolerates you, or so he says

He’s jealous of your wings

HE’S supposed to be the mysterious, sexy one!

But ok, yeah, you’re pretty interesting

He uses you in short films sometimes bc… well… wings

There are alot of things you can do with wings, surprisingly

He took you out into town one night

He shoved the wings under a thick jacket

You guys bought some clothes and food

He cut holes in the clothes for your wings, grumbling about a “waste of money” and “you never go out anyway” 

but he enjoyed spending a bit of time with you

Wilford nearly killed him(again) when he found out

He likes venting to you bc you just nod without really listening

As I said, you’re good company

Yancy thinks you’re nice

He felt a bit… threatened at first

Ya got WINGS, of course he’s cautious

But they are very pretty

And he likes to use you in choreography

People always comment on how realistic the wings are as Yancy leads you away

You don’t judge him for killing his parents, he likes that about you

You don’t know. You could’ve done something bad. You don’t remember

He likes cuddling bc you wrap your wings around him and he feels safe

He also helps you preen… sometimes… 

He’s… really bad at it...

You like listening to him sing

He sings you lullabies at night

You’re very close

Illinois is very fascinated with you

He’s convinced you’re a fairy

He’s seen quite a few of those

You tell him you don’t know, and he goes “a LiKeLy StOrY”

He likes drawing you

You’re very angelic

“Oh, maybe an angel then…” He says, like an idiot

He takes you with him on a few adventures to fly him over pits and stuff

He’d never admit it but he has a… THING about heights

It’s called a phobia, you egotistic maniac

You try to help him with it

You never get that far off the ground before he’s screaming to be put down

He appreciates the effort

He gives you things he finds on adventures that are pretty or remind him of you

He infodumps to you about curses, and archaeology, and adventuring, etc.

Magnum is uh… well, he’s Magnum

He figures you’d be useful out at sea

You can find nearby land, ships, or treasure by flying, of course

He didn’t take into account the fact that you don’t really… fly that often.

So it turned into you just stretching your wings instead of looking for loot

Once you fell overboard

Everyone was like “eh, they can fly, it’s fine”

Then they realized that you probably can’t since your wings might be wet

Magnum LEAPED into the fuckin water and THREW you back on

He doesn’t take you on the sea as much anymore

sometimes you talk about life, treasure, love, y'know the usual

He’s very Father Figure-ly

Bim isn’t sure how to feel about you

You are a person. With wings. What’s he supposed to do about that

He’s friends with Wil, so has to tolerate you at least.

He tries to make conversation, but it doesn’t always go as well as it could

You don’t have much to talk about, and some of his topics worry you

Mostly you two just kinda… exist in the same general area

Sometimes he’ll discuss what he should do on his show

You don’t have many ideas

But you’ve gotten an idea of what it is, and sometimes give a suggestion or two

He appreciates you for that

He tried to get you on the show once but Wilford refused

You kinda wanted to, but whatever

You’ll hang out sometimes too

He’s very entertaining, he has to be

Eric is kind of scared

Not that you’ll hurt him, that he’ll hurt you

That happens a lot to people he likes…

He eventually starts hanging out around you

You don’t ask bad questions, and you distract him from his dad

He talks about animals with you a lot, and how he wanted a farm

You bought a cowboy hat and gave it to him and he cried

You also gave him a stuffed cow one day

He hugged you for a long time

You two cuddle a lot bc the boy needs SAFETY and SECURITY

You wuv each other(platonically or otherwise)

Dr. Iplier doesn’t bother you, mostly

He appreciates that you keep to yourself

He has his work, that’s what he’s focused on

Sometimes he’ll see you when you try to find Wilford or get some food

He tries to get a good look at you without looking suspicious

It doesn’t work, he always falls over

He once gave you a “physical”

It was mostly to just figure out what you were

You seemed mostly human based on the results

But goddammit you had WINGS

They had their own function but were sort of like an add-on to your body

He was slightly disappointed you weren’t gonna… turn into a whole bird

You tolerate each other

Google fuckin’ hates you

He’s completely perplexed by you

Which he is never because he is the most intelligent being on the planet

So he assumed he could figure out what you were

Turns out google fucking sucks at figuring out things people don’t already know

So he hates you. Like a lot

He’s tried to kill you multiple times

But his objective is to destroy MANKIND

You are not included in that

BECAUSE HE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE!!!

Also Wilford almost killed him for it

So yeah he just kinda hates you

You’ve tried to get along with him but he just wouldn’t

He finally talked to you when Bing called him a little bitch

Still hates you, but can tolerate your existence now

Bing fuckin’ adores you

You are just wonderful to him

You can FLY??!! You have WINGS???!!!!!

You don’t really care that he is an artificial BEING????!!!!!!!!

You’re perfect

He does Sick Tricks™ to try to impress you

They never do

You appreciate the effort

You don’t see him a lot, but when you to it’s very entertaining

He taught you how to skateboard

You kinda sucked but he’s very supportive

He likes just hanging around you

It’s the only time he ever chills the fuck out

Everyone’s thankful to you for that

Your entire dynamic is “what if... i put... my minecraft bed... next to yours? haha just kidding... unless?”

The Host doesn’t really care about the wings??

I mean, he can’t see them, so… what’s the big deal

You appreciate that

He still does the uh… narration thing… with real people…

The stories end better now

You convinced him to make the stories end better

You sat with him to make SURE the stories end better

He also started writing novels recently

You help with plot and character development

He appreciates that

The Jims… don’t really care about you

I mean you’re interesting, of course

But they physically Cannot get a clear picture of you

Even if you agree to sit still, it just doesn’t happen

It is always, ALWAYS blurry

They eventually give up and leave you alone

They do spend a bit of time with you

You help them with demon episodes sometimes

You don’t do much, but they like the emotional support

King of the Squirrels is… well, he’s him

He doesn’t… he doesn’t do much

He hangs out with his squirrels. That’s pretty much it.

You just started hanging out with him one day

He didn’t mind

You two feed the squirrels while sitting by a tree

He lets you wear his crown sometimes

He draws his squirrels, and lets you see the pictures

He teaches you how to draw them

You two don’t talk, really

You just sit. And hang out.

He doesn’t really smile, but you can tell when he’s happy with you

[owlf45]

beheading at dollar tree aisle 17

[thiswasinevitableid]

since i am obsessed <33333 with the sternclay fill you did for this prompt, can you do 57 with indruck nsfw?

Here it is! Note: this mentions mating talk.

57: we’re fighting over the last box of half-off valentine’s day chocolate and end up in a “who has it worse” battle

This is it. Duck’s new low. Standing under the high ceilings of Wal-Mart at two in the morning, trying to decide if his dignity can take the hit of someone seeing him scale the shelves to grab the lone leftover bag of valentine’s candy.

Fuck it, those are Ghiradeli caramel squares, he deserves them after today.

Just as he’s choosing his foothold, a large, feathery shape rounds the corner. It figures that the one other customer in the store would need to be in the exact same place as him. He’ll just wait the mothman out.

Duck’s mostly used to seeing random monsters around town; back in the fifties, an interstellar gate opened up in Kepler, making it the home of a small population of cryptids know as Sylphs. When he was younger, he hated the fact he grew up in such a weird-ass place, but these days his brain barely differentiates them from the other Keplerites. They come to the national forest where he works, order their dinners in line ahead of him and, apparently, come to big box stores in the dead of night.

“Ah, excellent.” The mothman chirps, grabbing the bag of caramel squares from the top shelf.

“Hey!”

The antenna-topped head swivels, owl-like, and red eyes regard him with surprise, “Yes? Oh, apologies” he tucks his wings in “I didn’t mean to block your way.

“That ain’t it. I was gonna buy that.” He points at the bag.

The creature cocks his head, “But it was still on the shelf.”

“Yeah, because we ain’t all seven feet tall. I was about to grab it.”

“It’s not my fault you’re short.”

Duck bites back an unkind retort, sighs, “will you just give me the damn bag?”

“Absolutely not. I’ve had a very bad day and this is my conciliation prize.”

“You’ve had a bad day? I went out to a singles night for the first time after gettin dumped a month ago. Figured I’d finds someone to take home, but not a single fuckin person OR Sylph was interested. If anyone needs that candy, it’s me.”

A haughty flick of antenna, “I see your disappointing evening and raise you a reminder that it’s been five years to the day that anyone’s wanted to touch you.”

“Please, this town is crawlin with monsterfuckers, you can’t find someone to mess up those pretty feathers, that sounds like a problem with your personality.”

The mothman chirrs, annoyed, “There’s no need for such remarks. Wait, what was that about my feathers?”

Okay, so maybe Duck has jerked off to mothman porn once or twice. Or a few dozen times. He’s not about to admit that here.

“Uh, I, uh, fuck, I don’t not know, fuck-” he grabs for the bag, hoping to distract the Sylph. It works, but the mothman simply raises it above his head. Duck growls, too committed to his bad idea to back down now, and jumps for it.

A toothy grin, “Since we’re speculating, maybe everyone you encountered tonight was simply in search of a taller partner.”

“Fuck you, I’m five six.”

“What was that? It’s rather hard to hear you down there.”

“That’s it fluffball” He jumps again, fingers grazing the bag before it’s passed to the mothman’s upper set of hands. Mid-leap, he can tell he’s going to fall on his fucking knees, and a broken bone is the last thing he needs. His body acts on panic and wraps his arms and legs around the only stable thing.

“What in the world are you doing?” The mothman trills, lower hands catching Duck’s legs so he doesn’t slide straight to the floor.

“Tryin to get what’s mine.”

“This is ridiculous.” He keeps the candy out of reach as Duck tries to climb him.

“I know, but I ain’t about to let you win.”

“Gentlemen.”

They stop grappling and stare at the beleaguered employee at the end of the aisle.

“Please just get out. Don’t even worry about paying for that, it’s like two bucks and that is not worth dealing with you for.”

They both mumble an apology. Then he lunges up, snatching the bag while his opponent is distracted and bolts for the door. He’s without his car, so he’s half a block from the store when a shadow glides overhead and drops down in front of him.

“That was rude.”

“So was insultin me.”

“You started it.” The cryptid looms over him, “and you only have minor ego bruising to blame for your short temper and poor judgement. I spent the entirety of my day arguing on the phone with government officials until one of them finally listened to me about a dam bursting north of here. I, I deserve something nice.” The last part is said more softly, as if he’s not sure he believes it. That slaps Duck back to his usual sensible state.

Duck sighs, reaches for the cryptid’s arm, “Look man, how about we-”

When his hand makes contact the mothman purrs, then flattens his antenna. Duck runs his hand up the smooth chitin, making the purr double in strength.

“I, I apologize. I didn’t even know this could happen with a human so I did not check the futures for it.”

“For what?”

“I, my kind use playfighting and chase as a mating ritual. Which, combined with those gentle touches just now, means my body thinks you’re a potential partner.”

A thrill creeps up his spine, and he pets the Sylph once more just to hear him purr, “So, uh, what should I do?”

“I suggest you take the candy and” he shudders, “walk home, and we both pretend this never happened.”

“What happens if I run?” Duck sets his hand on the down of the cryptids chest, shivering as it sinks into the fluff.

The mothman looks at him, confusion warring with desire on his face, “I chase you. And since I foresee you asking, if I catch you I will take you then and there unless you tell me not to.”

“Got it.” Duck steps back, smiles when the cryptid tries to follow his touch and then catches himself. He could just walk home and wolf down his hard-won candy. But they’re right by his shortcut through the forest to his house and no one has wanted to chase him for months…

He takes off into the trees.

For the first few yards there’s no sound but crunching leaves and his breathing. Then soft, determined wing-beats glide through the treetops. The canopy is thick here and no one but him knows this path, so he likes his odds of making it home. He even knows where the most troublesome roots are so he won’t trip and lose ground.

Duck’s nearly home when nature betrays him; a deer springs across his path, startling him and sending him to the ground. He scrambles up, listening for signs of the Sylph’s location, but the wingbeats are gone. Did he give up? Is he lying in wait up ahead? Did Duck actually lose him?

The questions spin through his mind as he scans the treetops. There’s nothing, only shadows and bark.

“You know” a voice lilts, coiling around him, “I’d think someone who worked in the woods would know many moths excel at camouflage.”

Red eyes appear in the branches to his right. He gets out a single “fuck” before the mothman swoops down and knocks him into the leaf litter. The candy hits the dirt a few feet away as he’s roughly rolled onto his stomach.

“Holy fuck.” He pants as clawed hands undo his pants and push his shirt up his back, “holy fuUUUuuck, oh christ that’s good.” He rests his head on his forearms as the mothman drags his tongue up his back again.

“Mmmmm, what a lovely little mate I’ve caught.” One set of hands pulls his pants and boxers to his knees while the other caresses his ass, “all dressed up too. I cannot imagine why others passed you up tonight but I am glad they did. Hmmm” claws prick his inner thighs as they’re pushed as wide as they’ll go, “you’re a bit aroused already-”

“Wonder why.” He teases.

“-but I ought to make sure you’re ready to take my cock.” A long, flexible tongue traces circles on his folds. He groans, pushes his hips back in hopes of getting more. The Sylph grants his wish with a purr, thrusting his tongue in hungrily. Duck moans, then snickers into his arms.

“‘At’s ‘o ‘unny?”

“F-feathers, ticklish.” Is what he manages to get out before the tongue curls and finds his G-spot, making it impossible to focus on anything but the being behind him. But the Sylph only gives him a minute of delicious sensation before pulling back.

“There, now you’re ready. I, ah, I suggest you hold on.”

“To whatAHFUCK, fuck, jesusfuckingchrist” his fingers dig into the earth and dead twigs scrape his knees as the Sylph grips his hips and shoves in all at once. The upper set of hands drops to either side of his head as the cryptid hunches over him, snapping his hips while sharp trills and chirps fill the air.

“That’s it sweet one, goodness, years without a partner and the first warm hole I can catch is a tight one, I, I do so love fucking humans for that reason alone, but you, you feel exquisite, ohyes, yesyesyes” he chirrs triumphantly and Duck moans; he’s never been able to feel a partner cum like this. When he glances down his torso, he’s surprised to see the droplets shimmering in the moonlight as they drip down his thighs.

“That was fuckin incredibleAH!” He’s flipped onto his back, the mothmans body blocking out the sky.

“Did you think we were done?” He’s grinning again, the expression as charming as the starlight on his feathers.

“Kinda? Not, uh, not that I mind if you wanna go again.”

“I do.” The cryptid lifts his legs, removing his shoes and clothes as he adds, “again, and again, and again. After all, look how much it likes you” He adjusts so Duck can see his dick. It’s not the size that startles him; it’s the series of ridges on it and the fact that it’s fucking pulsing like it’s got a mind of it’s own.

Duck spreads his legs, “Only it likes me?”

“I’m beginning to share it’s opinion” The tip presses in and the purring intensifies, “though I must say you’ll need to be far more polite and submissive a mate to make up for your--ohgoodness--earlier behavior.”

“Yeah?” Duck smirks, dragging his hands up the soft feathers of his chest, then glides them out to stroke his inner wing “how’s that for a start?”

The Sylph’s chirrs change, growing needier the more Duck pets him, “So very good. No, no one has touched my wings in years.”

Duck studies their sheen, the little speckles of grey and white, and digs his fingers deeper, “Damn shame.”

A soft trill accompanied by three demanding thrusts and then cum spills into him once more.

“Heh, you like when I compliment your feathers? Ohfuckyes” He moans as the Sylph starts thrusting, slower than before but made far more obscene by the sound of his cum being fucked back into Duck’s body.

“I, I do.” He drops his forehead to rest above the top of Duck’s head, “it’s been so long. As you said, this town is full of people who would gladly take a werewolf to bed but have...reservations about one such as me.”

“Their loss” Duck nuzzles the ruff of feathers around the Sylphs neck, runs his hands greedily along his wings, “these alone are so fuckin gorgeous there oughta be a line of folks beggin for the chance to mess ‘em up while they ride you.”

The mothman whimpers, chirps when Duck leans sideways to trail kisses along his right wing. His hips are moving lazily in time with the roll of Duck’s own and he sighs with every thrust, as if Duck is his favorite place to be.

“Got some broken feathers.” He murmurs.

“A peril of fast flights and living alone. It’s better if someone else pulls them free and grooms them for you.”

“I could do that.”

A hungry moan as the mothman noses his hair, “You’re making me wish I hadn’t caught you so soon; had we played longer, my ovipositor would have joined the fun, and you’re so wonderful a mate I ought to lay in you.”

“Jesusfuck” Duck fists his hands into his chest feathers, bucking his hips.

“Oh, do you like that? The thought of being a handsome little hole for me to stuff my eggs in?”

“Yes, holy fuck yes.”

The thrusts turn demanding, “Just one more way in which you’re perfect. You’re strong, you’ve a lovely shape” one hand runs possessively across Duck’s belly and chest, “and it only takes a little bit of vigorous fucking to make you well-behaved and willing to be properly mated.”

“Fuck, fuckin christ that’s goodOH, ohfuckrightthere” one of the ridges is catching his dick, pushing him towards orgasm, “please don’t stop, don’t you dare fuckin stop-”

“Never” it comes out in a growl, “I want to see you be a good little human and cum on my cock while I fill you up. Oh yes, yes” he smiles down at him, “it seems you’re about to oblige meAHhnnnn, goodness you tighten so nicely when you finish” he speeds up, jostling Duck as his climax renders him limp, “yes, yes sweet one hold out just a moment, nnnf, oh, ohyes” He spills into him, Duck’s body unable to contain it all and sending it running down the cryptid’s shaft and the humans thighs. Then the mothman eases out with a low chirp and sits back on his heels.

Duck flops his arms about until he finds plastic, pulling the bag of candy to him as he sits up. He yanks it open, undoes the foil, and freezes. The cryptid isn’t looking at him, isn’t making any noise. He’s just hunched forward, antenna flattening.

“You okay?” Duck finishes freeing the chocolate square.

“Yes” there’s a sniff, “yes I’ll be fine.”

“That ain’t quite what I asked.” He holds the candy out. Antenna twitch, but the mothman keeps his head down.

“I apologize, I, I meant to wait until you left but I, I got overwhelmed. You were so sweet, you let me do all that and I, I don’t even know your name.”

“That’s an easy fix. I’m Duck. It’s a nickname.”

The cryptid finally looks up, takes the offered treat between his claws, “I’m Indrid.” He pops the candy in his mouth and chews miserably.

Duck pulls his boxers on to avoid getting any more pine needle pokes on his ass, then scoots closer, “So, uh, Indrid. Is there somethin special we need for groomin your wings? My place makes the most sense as a next stop, but if there’s a special tool might be better to go to yours.”

Indrid blinks, cocks his head, “You...you want to groom them? I, I thought that was just dirty talk.”

“Can be. But I was serious; now that I got a taste of those wings, I wanna touch ‘em whenever you’ll let me.”

“This is the least likely timeline.” Indrid whispers to himself

“What’d I do in the other ones?”

“Thanked me for a good time and left.”

“See, I thought about that” Duck tentatively moves forward, smiles when Indrid allows him into his lap to stroke his face, “but then I thought, ‘this fella’s fuckin mind blowin in bed, but I wanna get to know what he’s like the rest of the time. Can’t do that if I up and leave.” He offers another chocolate. Indrid eats it out of his hand, then wraps his wings around him.

“I, ah, there’s a special oil for my feathers.”

“Should we go get it?”

“We could. Or” he smiles, hopeful, “we could go to my place tomorrow morning. After we rest at your home and you let me buy you breakfast.”

Duck kisses his fuzzy cheek, “Yeah, let’s do that.”

[deceptive-jo]

Youtuber AU - Iplier Egos

Darkiplier

Horror Games playthroughs, Horror Movie reactions (those are usually collabs because he doesn't get scared easily)

Short Horror films

Its speculated that he runs one of the inner-story channels but no-one can prove it

Wilford Motherloving Warfstache

Does mostly food reviews and chaotic game plays

Occasional interviews but they always have a twist (the interviewee hanging above a pool etc.)

The Author

Also GamePlays but a very different type (Graystillplays type, to be exact)

Sometimes collabs with Bim and Mike just to blow shit up

The Host

ASMR, reads short stories and poems

No-one knows what his face looks like

Despite being extremely popular you don't really get recommended, you just find him when you need to

Started a podcast with The Author where they talk about writing, life advise and stories

YouTube cryptid

The Actor

Make-up tutorials

Acting & Auditioning tipps and story times

Stars in a lot of (short) films

Dude Awesome

Skateboard tutorials, trickshot videos, Daily Vlogs

A lot of collabs with others (mainly Bro Average)

The Android brothers

Programming and robot building that usually escalates (think, Michael Reeves)

It's a running gag on the channel that the brothers are never seen on film together (there's said to be four of them, but noone's sure)

Yancy

Mostly song covers and original songs

Illinois Jones

Travel blogs

Very popular because they're often very interesting and action-packed

Dr Iplier

Medical story time videos, Reaction videos and health advisor (a more sarcastic version of Dr Mike if you want)

BItchin' Bim

A lot of chaotic Art vlogs (Decor diy, acryl painting)

Make-up tutorials, nail art

Kind of a bitch but very protective of his fanbase (most of which are neurodivergent and queer teens)

King of the Squirrels

Vlogs about his life in a tree house and the animals he lives with/cares for

Very sweet and popular, his videos are always helpful, calming and adorable

Silver Security

Does Short Action films

As well as self defence lessons