#humanoid fic

[rk-ish]

Kara and Alice from a fic I’m writing 🚀

[isawjamfirst]

meryl’s angels of death and destruction

[essenceofarda]

When Arien took up the mantel of the sun, her younger sister, filled with jealousy and resentment, attempted to create her own sun to carry across the sky. She failed, however, her already crumbling corruption caused her to become something far darker, all consuming, and empty.

Or, Gothmog, as I imagine her, as a Black Hole, Supernova, Void.

[sualne]

carnis au accidental [???] but i was thinking about mimic luffy wanting to get closer and closer to law, and i'd been thinking since i've made the au about how he'd want to see law's scars (already various scenes on how it could happen, written notes and all, don't know which to pick), and then the fact that he knows there's something carnis still in him.

so i was thinking of another scene where he's inspecting the scars on his face and they both very close but it's not the scars he's really looking at, he's searching for that carnis leftover and says maybe mostly to himself "It's still inside you. That's just so unfair. Why, just why couldn't it have been me?"

And jokingly is thought: This is it folks, I broke the code, this is about bottom dysphoria!

But then! I thought again, the au is about feeling otherized, isolated and monstrous and wrong. i've already strongly considered the idea of luffy's death as a suicide metaphor. the mimic has been thinking about socially detransitioning because it keeps getting accosted by creeps and assholes and knows that luffy would've fought back most of the time but also knows it's much stronger now and doesn't want to get caught, he needs to lays low, it doesn't want to cause a scene, it has to go stealth.

law hates the idea because it's not enough that it killed luffy now it has to just go and erase that important part of him of as well but the mimic insist, he's still a man, he'll just fake being a girl to make it easier. but law doesn't understand because to him the mimic is faking being a man, it's faking being a person, it's faking being luffy.

the reason the mimic wants to lay low is because it doesn't want to get caught so it can stay with law and study him, understand him. law doesn't knows that, he's too freaked out by the fact that's it's a mimic! that it killed luffy and might possibly want to kill him too! but the mimic feels a kind of kinship with law because of that remaining carnis in him.

remains he got from nearly dying, from losing his family, from an attack to another carnis. and i thought, law is meant to be reminiscent of mimics. he had to regrow his face, he's (as always) autistic and doesn't always act as expected, he's also paranoid even when he happens to be right, he's traumatized to the point of psychosis, the encounter changed him. it was meant as a parallel to how ppl like to think murderers&co are all mentally ill because they can't possibly be Normal Like Them, they must be different, they must not be human, they're obviously monsters. but those victims, those who get to survive, the trauma change them, they can acquire all sort of neurodivergences, and when those same Normal People learn that a person has some kind of The Scary Disorder they think "Oh, you're a monster too! You'll (inevitably) hurt someone!" which lead back to being otherized ect.

there's also something about how law didn't just get scars from his near death experience but also what's essentially a disease.

and then back to the mimic, who recognize itself in him, in that disease, but it isn't quite right, it's not enough and it's also nothing alike at all and also he's kind of jealous? it makes no sense to the mimic itself but he can't stop thinking about law either.

it's also how a monster that's linked to what is theorized to be something close to a hivemind accidentally developing a sense of identity and facing some sort of existential crisis over the fact that it can't ever escape it's monstrous nature and doesn't want to either. and that sound like, very much like being trans and cracking your egg and realizing you're fucked cause that sure is knowledge to have about oneself and also it's in the fictional 90s of a op carnis au so good luck with that.

anyway that's a lot of words and im not sure how to phrase the rest it's just, this was supposed to be a casual au where i went "OHOHO look at the Tragedy" but i thought about it too long and now i feel like i've ended up with a millefeuilles of overlaying themes and im, i means sure. can't draw All that tho so what now.

[insomniac-hours]

20 // Carve

This is part of my Yantober writing list Helio the Pumpkin Hybrid TW; Yandere Behavior, Mentions of Pumpkin Carving (Kinda pumpkin gore), Farmer Reader, Just a confused pumpkin wanting to be helpful, Isolation/Kidnapping

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that was sitting in your barn one morning, a clean pumpkin that appeared to be stuck on someones head with long vines coming out from the stem.

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that can't see you but hears you curse and gently knock on his head, making them grip your arm in panic.

He wandered from the plot behind your home and ended up there, unaware of anything or anyone.

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that hears you talk about giving him a face, but unsure of how.

He's quick to reach around, feeling something sharp on the ground and quick to jam it into their head.

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that is able to see you in a matter of minutes, taking in your smiling face and deciding that they would make sure you're always happy from that moment on.

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that spends a few weeks not being able to speak, you being too scared to let him near a knife after he carved his own eyes out.

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that enjoys helping you out around the house, cleaning up for you and tending to some of your crops to the best of his ability.

He watches the squash and tomatoes as they grow, narrowed sockets in a challenging way.

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that watches as people come to you to buy organically grown fruits, vegetables, herbs and flowers.

They hate the people who flirt with you, wanting nothing more than to grab you and tell them off. Or kill them.

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that finds a knife and carves a mouth into their face when they see couples on tv kissing, wanting to desperately try it with you.

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that is obsessed when you kiss him, thinking nothing of it aside from a cute thing they saw and wanted to understand.

They need you now and forever though, why would you assume it was an innocent thing?

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that asks you if you're now dating, watching your appalled expression as you try to let him down gently.

Humanoid Pumpkin Yan that locks you in your room that night, huffing about how you're theirs and will accept it.

Even if it takes isolation to do it.

[therantingsage]

Very very intrigued by @protectorcraft's fic, a bell chimes somewhere. I never turn down an opportunity to draw a creature-beast, so I tried to figure out monster Siffrin! Probably got a lot of details wrong, but as of right now Siffrin's exact bodyplan is decently ambiguous. I leaned into the dragon part cuz that's my area of expertise.

[thenixkat]

Not a fan of the super out-of-character cannibalism whump stuff I'm seeing pop up for Laios.

Like, yeah, I fully believe that Laios would do some cannibalism (which in and of itself is morally neutral, it's the whys and wherefores where shit gets snarly) but that is not a man who's going to commit murder to eat someone. *Especially* not any of his coworkers/friends/allies. Given, like, his whole thing with responsibility and how much he cares about the people he actually likes.

And like? If you want fucked up shit involving mutilation and cannibalism with ol dude... like the manga actually provides shit for that and in character even.

Like, don't slander my guy just cause yer uncreative and just lazily taping the names/looks of characters into shit that clearly ain't them.

[ceruleansol]

So I’m workin on a lil (Vash x reader) somethin….

Nsfw to come once I finish and make this a whole other post

—

The routine noises are comforting. It starts the same every evening from where you sit resting against the armrest of the couch, reading the book he bought for you that month. Over the course of your five-year-long relationship, you learned the various ways Vash expresses and needs to receive love.

One of the ways he gives love is by gift giving, in which he studies you in detail and makes sure he enables every one of your passions. Every month he either buys you a book based on your preferences or picked out by himself for you to try. If he sees a pretty rock on the ground or has time to stop by the local crystal shop, he brings you crystals to add to your ever-growing collection. By the time you've added another passion or hobby to your repertoire, he's already created another mental list of ideas of what to gift you.

The set of different sketching pencils will arrive in the mail next week—with the specifications that it is a gift, so the price isn't showing.

What is more notable, however, is his need for quality time and physical touch. He will insist it's for you. He is hellbent on serving you and making sure you're comfortable, secure, and protected. It is innate and in his nature. Many a late and stressful night for the both of you has he chosen, unprompted and without complaint, to do the cooking or the cleaning or the laundry. But he'll also ask in that soft and sweet voice if you want to join him. He needs to take care of you and have you with him, but you know the real reason.

The noises continue in the bathroom down the hall that stretches straight ahead of you, the light bleeding sideways out of the cracked door. And it's by such repetitive routine that each tell paints a clear picture in your mind of him methodically undoing his prosthetic and placing it onto the countertop, a relieved breath following suit before he begins to tug his shirt over his head.

The door then opens like it does every evening where he steps out with only his pants remaining. It is this sight of him in particular that especially warms your heart and increases your fondness for your lover. No one else gets to see him in such a vulnerable state. Only you get to hold the weight of his trust and witness him and all his scars.

His eyes soften when he sees you with the book and he smiles. "Hey," he says as soft as his gaze and raises a hand to get your attention, though he's never lost it. "Wanna shower with me?"

He's met with only a growing smile on you at the familiar question, and so he pushes himself past the doorframe.

You watch him in adoration of his lean stature, the marred skin across his chest that reaches his back, the angle of his shoulders, and the gentle yet playful manner in which he steps toward you.

When he stops, his shins are against the couch between your legs, and he grins down at you. He nudges your leg with his to coax you out of the stupor he's surely noticed you in.

Blinking back into reality, you're met with the realization of how your head reaches the height of his abdomen when you sit down like this.

You know it well, just as well as he knows you; Vash gives what he needs to receive, and you intend to make sure he always gets as much as he gives.

[kaytrawrites]

QSMP - Crowbeast

Summary in which qPhilza is not ok, and goes off the deep end.

Notes CW // multiple main character death (non permanent), violence against semi-humanoid creature This is also very long (9.7k+ words)

---

Chayanne was slain by Code Beast Tallulah was slain by Code Beast Chayanne was slain by Code Beast Tallulah was slain by Code Beast

The feeling of icy, cold hands gripped Phils heart. He froze, staring at the words displayed upon his communicator. “Chayanne!? Tallulah!?” he screamed. He bolted past Fit, who was also staring down at his communicator in silent shock.

Messages from the other Islanders flooded the communicator.

<Etoiles> WHERE <Etoiles> WHERE <Etoiles> WHERE <Etoiles> WHERE <BadBoyHalo> WHERE ARE THEY??? <Etoiles> I WILL KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH <Etoiles> I WILL KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH <Etoiles> I WILL KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH <Etoiles> WHERE <Etoiles> WHERE <Etoiles> WHERE <Tubbo_> IM COMING

Fit followed after Phil, who was racing down the halls of the dungeon, occasionally screaming his children’s names.

Then Phil stopped dead in his tracks.

And Fit saw what had stopped his friend.

Shattered eggshells were scattered around the area, slashes and splashes of red covered the floor and walls. The air smelt of rot, blood and s̷̳̓t̵͕̿a̸͚͒ț̷͆i̷̱͝c̵͖͌. And in the center-ish of the room was a glitchy black and green figure; hovering above Chyanne’s rubber floaty and Tallulah’s red beanie. 

Phil was completely and utterly silent as he slipped his scythe off his back and into his hand. He shifted his weight and leapt toward the Code Beast that had killed his children.

Fit bit back a curse and grabbed his potato cannon from its holster and loaded it up with a golden apple. He carefully lined up the shot and fired. The power of the apple shot out and blended into Phil’s aura, providing an extra boost to the enraged man.

Fit reloaded his cannon, the crushed apple core dropping to the ground. He aimed and fired again and again, trying to keep his friend alive as the Code Beast laid into Phil as fiercely as the man did to it.

The Code Beast knocked Phil back, its claw catching on the strap of Phil’s backpack, ripping it off. Phil’s ruined wings flared out to help catch his balance. Fit fired two more golden apples at his friend in quick succession. Then swapped his cannon’s ammo to golden carrots. He fired several shots toward the Code Beast, forcing it away from his friend for a moment.

He grabbed one of his splash potions and threw it at his friend’s back. The potion bottle shattered, the elixir infusing Phil with a burst of instantaneous healing. Fit threw several more, taking advantage of the small moment he had bought by swapping his ammo. Phil took advantage of Fit’s support and lunged forward to slash the beast.

“I'm here! I'm here!” Etoiles cried out, sprinting past Fit, toward where Phil and the Code Beast were locked in combat.

Etoiles whipped his shield around and blocked a strike that would have dealt a horrid blow to Phil. “Strike, my bro!” Etoiles called out as he surged forward, knocking the Code Beast back.

Phil paused for half a breath, and leapt forward to land a strike upon the Code Beast. His scythe morphed, becoming an ax.

Tubbo bolted past Fit, his own scythe in his hand. He paused for a heartbeat, looking over the battle arena. He froze when he saw Tallulah’s hat and Chayanne’s duck floaty. Tubbo screamed and leapt at the beast, screaming curses that would burn Bad’s ears. 

Fit swapped his cannon’s ammo back to golden apples, rapidly firing and reloading.

Under the near unrelenting attacks of Phil, Etoiles and Tubbo, the tides of the battle turned, and Code Beast fell.

Code Beast was slain by Ph1lza

Phil stood above the body of the beast, his ax slowly lowering, and wings limp.

“Phil?” Fit asked. Phil’s knees buckled, and Fit dashed forward and caught his friend.

His eyes were vacant, his gaze flat. Fit carefully lifted the smaller man in his arms. Phil did not resist. 

Tubbo picked up Chayanne’s floaty and Tallulah’s hat, and silently followed Fit back toward the waystone.

Etoiles stayed for a little longer, glaring down at the body of the Code Beast. But he followed after Fit and Tubbo.

The waystone at spawn whooshed as the group arrived.

Bad jumped at the sound, Bad freezing in his pacing back and forth. “Hey-” The words Bad was about to say died as he took in their utter, defeated silence.

Tubbo shook his head and Bad’s eyes went wide. “Are they really gone?” He asked. Tubbo nodded, and sank to his knees where he stood. Sunny sat down next to her Pa, leaning against him.

“Fit?” Bad turned to Fit for confirmation. Fit nodded, walking past Bad toward the elevator up to Phil’s home.

Bad stood in silence as Fit and Etoiles walked away. Tubbo was utterly silent, his grip on Chayanne’s floaty and Tallulah’s hat tightening. Bad turned on his heel and walked away from spawn. He was barely 50 feet away before he let out an unholy scream, and began to sprint away.

Fit took the elevator up to Phil’s home atop the wall. He flicked open the trapdoor down into the Garden of Hope and Music, and carefully descended to the air locked doors, Etoiles closing them behind. Fit pushed open the doors, and carefully set Phil down on the bed.

“Want me to stay, man?” Fit asked quietly when the man stirred slightly.

“Just go…” Phil muttered. “Just go…”

Fit slowly nodded, and rested a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “I’ll be here to listen if you need me.”

Etoiles and Fit left the quiet space. The last sound they heard from their friend was a shuddering sob.

—

The next few days were notably absent of Phil’s presence. The other islanders had gotten used to him appearing sometimes, silent and silly, when the bakery quests refreshed for the day and Chayanne and Tallulah weren’t getting up for the day. But those who usually spotted him doing the quests couldn’t catch neither hide nor hair of the man.

On the fourth day Phil finally emerged from the basement. His clothing choices were notably darker. He was utterly silent, responding with only one or two words when Fit tried to talk to him. He quietly did the quests as usual. Tucking the cookies into his backpack as usual. Leaving extra items for the quests in the barrels as usual.

But he didn’t stay out and about for long, quickly returning to the basement.

Each day he emerged he looked worse than the last time, which Tubbo mentioned to him. Phil didn’t even refute it. The next morning he wore the plague doctor gas mask he had brought back from Purgatory.

It quickly became a rare sight to see Phil out and about without the gas mask.

Well, it also became a rare sight to Phil at all.

After he hadn’t been seen for an entire week, Fit and Tubbo went to search the basement for their friend. The space was utterly silent. Fit examined the space. It was tidy. Too tidy.

Then he found the letter. It contained only 4 lines, 9 words.

“I can’t bear it. I’m gone. Don’t look. Sorry.”

Fit and Tubbo tracked down Etoiles by N.I.N.H.O, just as the sun started to go down.

“We found this.” Fit explained, handing Etoiles the letter.

Etoiles read the letter, the parchment crumpling slightly in his grip. “That son of a bitch.” Etoiles muttered. He paced back and forth. “He hates to talk about what he’s going through. I am more than ready to help!”

Fit nodded along with Etoiles’ angry ranting.

“Even The Goat needs help!” Etoiles snapped. “And Phil helped when I needed help! That old man doesn’t know when to ask for help! And he is too good at hiding when he needs help…”

Fit nodded. “Yeah. Getting information about his mental health is like pulling teeth. I just barely got out of him that he was having hallucinations a while back.”

Etoiles stopped and snapped around to stare at Fit. “Explain.” Etoiles ground out.

Fit paused, then sighed. “Yeah. So, you remember when the eggs vanished before Purgatory; well, Phil disappeared for about a week or so during that time. At some point after he came back, he took me to a part of a forest and told me that was where he had been trapped.”

Etoiles frowned. “Are you absolutely sure that?”

“Phil would not lie about that.” Fit crossed his arms, letting out a huff. “As I said, getting information about his mental health is like pulling teeth. Healthy teeth. So if he admits that he’s having issues, you can Always. Trust. His. Word.” He growled, more angry with himself than with the French cucumber.

“And how do you know what he’s like?” Etoiles asked, cocking his head.

“I faced him in War.” Fit replied. “When you face The Angel of Death in war, you learn something about him. And yourself.”

He huffed. “Look. What’s important to know is that Phil is gone. He’s left no clues about where he is…” His head snapped around, locking on a shadowy figure that zipped out of the bakery and ran toward the spawn warpstone.

Tubbo bolted toward the warpstone just as the figure reached it and vanished.

“Fuck!” Tubbo cursed.

“What the fuck was that?” Fit asked. “It wasn’t a nightmare stalker.”

“What’s more important is that it can use waystones…” Tubbo muttered. “I’m gonna need to move mine and put them in a secure box.

“Fuck man!” Etoiles said. “Now that I know you are moving yours, I’m going to secure mine too.” He palmed his warp stone. “I will talk to you soon.”

Fit nodded. “Alright. I will keep everyone updated if anything turns up.” He palmed his warp stone, warping to his base.

He turned and looked up at the wall. An aura of subdued mourning hung over the entire structure. Even the glowing trees that Phil and his kids had planted along the top were dimmer.

“Fuck!” Fit cursed. He turned and laid a hand on the waystone. He teleported back to that dungeon. He had been back here twice in the past month since Chayanne and Tallulah’s final deaths. But both times he could not bring himself to enter the room.

He slowly walked down the halls of the dungeon; the only sounds he heard beyond his ever-present tinnitus, were his own footsteps.

All too quickly he stood outside the room where the battle had occurred. He stared through the doorway, gritting his teeth. This place hurt his old friend in the worst way possible. Fit took in a slow deep breath and reached into his pouch for some of the sticks of tnt he kept there. He had to destroy this place.

He took a step in, Then a second, Then a third.

He stood over the few remaining crushed shells of Chayanne and Tallulah and flicked open the lighter. He flicked the wheel, and brought the small flame to the fuse. “Sorry kids…” He mumbled.

“NO!” A young voice yelled out, and a relatively small frame slammed into Fit. “Tio Fit! No! No! No!”

Fit lifted the lit stick away from the small person, and looked down at the raven haired child, then up at the brunette that ran up after them.

The hair of both youths were unkempt, and they had what looked like very dirty bed linens wrapped around themselves.

Fit threw the single stick away from where he and the two young ones stood.

He dropped to one knee to better look at the one who had grabbed him, face to face.

The one who had grabbed him had dark hair, with small glints of golden strands that caught the torchlight. Their eyes were a bright blue. And most notable was the skull shaped mark on their face.

Now, Fit hadn’t interacted much with Missa to memorize his facial features, but he knew Phil’s face. And this raven haired child looked an incredible amount like Phil.

Fit glanced at the other child, and even though their eyes were blue-gray, their curly poof of brown hair was identical to Wilbur’s; except far longer. And although they were darker than Wilbur, they unmistakably inherited his features. 

“Chayanne?” Fit said, hoping beyond all hope.

The black haired child- no. The black haired dragonling nodded rapidly.

Fit glanced at the other child. “Tallulah?” He asked.

The brunette dragonling frowned and silently mouthed what Fit had said for a second, then nodded.

Fit lifted his hands and slowly signed out ‘Tallulah, remember the first time we met? Found you in basement by me, your papi and Forever?’

Tallulah grimaced at the last name Fit said, but shook her head. “It was only you and papi who found me. I was in an attic. Not a basement.” She corrected, her tone of voice a bit off due to her current lack of hearing aids.

“And Chayanne, do you remember that first meal I gave you? It was hashbrowns, wasn’t it?” Fit asked, praying that Chayanne would remember.

Chayanne shook his head. “Big Breakfast.” He said, insistently. 

Fit let out a breath. They probably are Chayanne and Tallulah, but something was different. “How are you two… human?” He asked.

Tallulah glanced at her brother, having not caught what Fit said. Chayanne frowned then lifted his hands, flipping them back and forth, palm then back of the hand, repeatedly. While the light in the room may be dim, it was bright enough to catch on the scales on his hands and arms. He reached up and squished down his hair, exposing a handful of small horns crowning his head. “Not human.” He said.

Fit blinked. “Yeah. Not human.” He said. “How are you two even alive?” He asked, enunciating as clearly as he could.

Tallulah pointed to the shattered egg shells on the floor. “Hatched.” She tapped her chest. “Rules for life are different now.”

“Died after hatching.” Chayanne nodded. “Didn’t feel in danger like when small.”

“So, now that you two have hatched, that means you’ll revive like me or any of the other islanders?” Fit asked.

Chayanne and Tallulah nodded.

Fit let out a breath. “Ok. Then let’s get you two back to spawn.” He stood and started to leave, but stopped when he felt his sleeve being grabbed.

“No xp.” Chayanne said.

“Oh! I’ll set up a sharestone and ask Bad to bring some solid experience so you two can get back.” Fit explained. Chayanne nodded, and reached behind himself to grab Tallulah’s hand.

Fit started walking toward the waystone and sent a message to BBH.

You whisper to BadBoyHalo: I’m setting up a red sharestone. Bring solid experience or experience bottles. You whisper to BadBoyHalo: They are alive. You whisper to BadBoyHalo: I found them. BadBoyHalo whispers to you: what? BadBoyHalo whispers to you: im coming

Fit set up the red sharestone and messaged Bad the name.

The far taller man appeared a few moments later, quickly followed by Dapper, “Fit, how did you run out of experience so quick-” His words died as he saw the pair that quickly ducked behind Fit. “Who shrunk Phil?” He asked.

“I’ll explain a bit more when we get Chayanne and Tallulah back to spawn and make sure their spawn points are there.” Fit insisted.

Dapper was staring up at Chayanne and Tallulah. And now that Fit could see an egg next to the pair, if one of them curled up real tight, they would be able to fit inside a space about as big as Dapper is. Would Ramon be like these two when he hatched?

Fit shook off the thought and turned his focus to BBH, who was staring down at Chayanne and Tallulah. “Bad. Focus.”

Bad nodded. “Yes. We need to get them back to spawn.” He handed Chayanne and Tallulah a few blocks of solid experience. “You two head there first. Fit and I will follow after.”

Chayanne nodded, and he squeezed the solid experience, absorbing it. Tallulah did so too and the pair rested their free hands on the sharestone, and vanished. Dapper followed a few moments later.

As soon as the pair vanished, Bad turned to Fit. “That’s them. Without a doubt.” He said.

Fit let out a breath. “Demon thing, I guess. Weight off my chest having that confirmation.” He walked past Bad, who seemed to be visibly shaken. “We need to get those two tidied up. And see if anything about Phil’s turned up.”

“Wait. Hold up.” Bad said, grabbing the back of Fit’s jacket. “Explain about Phil.”

Fit paused, “Phil’s gone awol. Tubbo and I found a letter in his base telling us to not look for him.” He shook his head. “Look. Let’s just focus on the kids.” He warped to spawn.

Tallulah and Chayanne were sitting in the entrance to the spawn waystone room, Dapper was standing just outside. Fit glanced up at the wall and frowned. “Let’s head over to NINHO and get you two cleaned up.”

Chayanne looked up. “Dad?” He asked.

Fit glanced at Bad, who smiled. “Fit will go get him. Let’s get you two cleaned up.”

Chayanne grabbed Tallulah’s hand and signed one-handed to her, repeating what Fit and Bad said. She nodded and stood to follow Chayanne and Bad.

Fit headed around the other way from NINHO toward the elevator up to Phil’s place. He grabbed his communicator and sent a message to Tubbo.

You whisper to Tubbo: Do you still have Tallulah’s hat and Chayanne’s floaty? You whisper to Tubbo: If you have them, take them to NINHO asap. Tubbo whispers to you: I have them. Tubbo whispers to you: Why do you need them? You whisper to Tubbo: I found Chayanne and Tallulah

Fit opted to ignore Tubbo’s spamming of his communicator as he descended into Phil’s basement. He grabbed Chayanne and Tallulah’s main backpacks from where they had been placed carefully on their beds. He paused beside Phil’s neatly made bed, then walked past and grabbed Phil’s extra bucket hat.

Fit left the bunker, a bundle of clean clothes from Phil’s closet in his arms, along with the kids’ backpacks. As he approached NINHO, he saw Sunny and Empanada perched on the edge of the garden bed outside with Tubbo. 

“Hey, Tubbo.” Fit said. “I’m guessing one of Em’s moms is inside helping Bad?”

“Yes. Tina is.” Tubbo folded his arms. “I would have come with you to find them, you know.”

“I did not know they were there.” Fit crossed his arms. 

Tubbo looked down at the red knit hat and yellow rubber floaty in his lap. “What happened?” He finally asked.

“I found Chayanne and Tallulah in the dungeon. They are different, but Bad’s confirmed that it’s them without a doubt.” Fit confirmed.

Tubbo looked up at NINHO, and nodded slowly. “Ok. I will trust you on this.”

Fit headed in, followed by Tubbo. They headed to the bathing area. A curtain had been set up around one of the baths, Bad was knelt down by one of the others. Fit set the bundle of clothes and the backpacks down. Bad glanced up and nodded, acknowledging Fit and Tubbo’s presence, then returned to helping Chayanne scrub off a month’s worth of dungeon grime.

Fit started sorting through the clothes he had grabbed, making sure every article of clothing was clean. 

Bad and Chayanne finished first, and Bad brought the raven haired dragonling over to Fit and Tubbo, bundled in an oversized, fluffy towel. Now that Chay was all cleaned up, he looked even more like Phil. Bad looked over the selection of clothes then shrugged off his backpack to grab some things. “I prepared these ahead of time for Dapper. I can make more.” Bad set some articles of clothing beside the ones Fit had grabbed.

Fit nodded. He hadn’t seen any in Phil’s base. Granted he hadn’t been looking very hard.

Chayanne slowly dressed, choosing brown trousers and one of Phil’s open back undershirts. Bad had to help get Chayanne’s wings through the shirt, being the only other person present who had wings. 

When Chayanne was dressed, Tallulah and Tina had finished. Tallulah was bundled in a similar towel, and with her hair washed, it was far easier to see her twin dark purple horns. With the dungeon grime gone, the scales on her hands and arms were a pretty purple-pink. Her steps were quite unsteady, clutching Tina’s hand for support.

“Men, turn around, or get out.” Tina said sharply. Fit and Tubbo immediately turned around, shuffling toward the entrance to the bathing area. Bad stayed behind to help get Tallulah dressed.

It didn’t take long for Tallulah to be dressed, at which point Fit and Tubbo were called back. “Gonna need new hearing aids for Tallulah.” Tina said.

“I thought so.” Fit nodded. “I’ll see if Ramon wants to work on it.”

Chayanne grabbed Phil’s spare bucket hat that Fit had brought. “Where’s dad?” He asked.

Fit glanced at Tubbo. “We don’t know, right now.” He started. Not a lie. “I think it would be best for you two to stay with someone until Phil gets back. Is that ok?”

Chayanne glanced at Tallulah who looked back. “That is a good idea.” Tallulah said, nodding. 

“Ok.” Bad said cheerily. “Who would you like to stay with?” Bad asked the pair.

Chayanne thought for a moment, but Tallulah spoke before her brother could answer. “Godfather Tubbo.”

Tubbo nodded. “Ok.” He knelt down in front of Tallulah and held out her red beanie. She took it carefully, flipping it around in her hands. Tubbo had cleaned it well. She put it on, tucking it under the back curve of her horns.

Chayanne stared at his old duck floaty. “It’s not going to fit.” He said. He looked over the sweaters that Fit had grabbed from Phil’s wardrobe. He grabbed a gray one that had little duckies knit on it.

Bad helped him get the sweater on, guiding him on how to tuck his dark feathered wings in comfortably.

“Who shrunk Phil?” Were Tubbo’s first words to Chayanne when the dark haired dragonling finished dressing and had plopped Phil’s spare stripped bucket hat on his head.

Chayanne snorted. “Tio please…” He giggled.

“Are you two sure about staying with me?” Tubbo asked.

Chayanne grabbed Tallulah’s hand, and nodded. “You are our godfather. Dad trusts you to care for us.”

Tubbo nodded. “Ok. Sunny’s house has some empty rooms I can set you two up in.”

It was a slow walk over to Sunny’s house, since Tallulah was having difficulties walking without support. Tubbo insisted that he’ll make her forearm crutches so she didn’t have to wait on someone to help her. And to have something to smack people with, he had slyly whispered after making that promise.

Sunny tried her best to make the space welcoming for Chay and Lulah, but Tallulah wanted to go straight to bed. Chayanne stayed up for a little longer, but was sent to bed within the hour because he was dozing off on his feet.

Over the next week, Bad checked in on Chayanne and Tallulah pretty often. Tubbo put together forearm crutches for Tallulah within 48 hours and she gleefully sat down to decorate them almost immediately. It took an additional day for Tubbo and Ramon to put together new hearing aids for her.

All through the week, various islanders reported seeing the dark figure around the spawn and the bakery. When spotted, it either bolted toward the spawn waystone, or vanished in a puff of purple particles after a few seconds. Fit managed to snap a picture of it and posted the picture at spawn for everyone to see.

A full week after Chayanne and Tallulah were found and brought home, Chayanne cornered Fit and demanded to know where Phil was.

And that was a conversation Fit had to drag Tubbo into.

“We don’t know where Phil is.” Was the hardest sentence Fit ever had to say. And the looks Chayanne and Tallulah gave in response were even harder for him to bear.

Fit and Tubbo explained that Phil had vanished leaving only a letter maybe a week or so before Fit had found Chay and Lulah in that dungeon. Tubbo showed them the letter, and Tallulah’s crestfallen expression broke him.

She silently left the house, probably heading to her casita. Chayanne left too, probably to the bunker.

Fit quietly left for spawn to check on the cookie quests. As he arrived, he could hear Bad muttering minced oaths in the room under spawn. Since Phil’s absence, Bad had been much more present to work on getting mobs for the cookie quests.

The shadowy figure that the islanders had been seeing raced out of the bakery and toward the spawn waystone. Fit sighed, but froze in his steps at the small figure that dashed out of the bakery after it. “Leo!” Foolish cried out, racing after the two.

The shadowy figure disappeared into the spawn waystone room and the sound of the waystone activating echoed out.

The small pursuing figure emerged from the room. “¡Maldita sea! ¡Casi lo pillo esa vez!” They growled, their tail swishing back and forth. Fit’s translator helpfully supplied the translation: ‘Damnit! I almost caught it that time!’

Foolish stopped his pursuit and dropped a large hand on the little dragonette’s head. “Yeah. You’ll get it next time!” He declared proudly.

Leo shoved his hand off their head with a “¡Deja de tocarme el pelo!” to which Foolish only laughed. ‘Stop touching my hair!’ 

“Oi Foosh!” Fit called out.

“Hi Fit!” Foolish called, waving happily at him.

“I see Leo’s hatched too.” Fit commented.

Foolish grinned. “Yes sir! My Leo’s awesome looking!” He declared. Leo lifted their chin, a broad grin on their face, as sharp toothed as their papa. Leo turned in place so Fit could see.

Their hair was deep, shiny black making their trio of golden horns stand out. Their usual red cap was flipped around backward. Cheeks and arms were covered in shimmery purple scales, and the tip of their tail boasted a webbed fin. Someone, most likely Foolish, had braided their hair into a beautifully intricate multi-braid style with pretty golden and purple beads throughout.

Fit nodded. “You look good, Leo. Dangerous.”

Leo grinned. “¡Apuesta a que lo hago!” They declared, lifting their chin in pride. ‘You bet I do!’

The clack of rubber on cobbles drew Fit and Foolish’s attention. Tallulah and Chayanne had arrived. Seeing Chayanne and Leo in close proximity, Fit would hazard a guess that Leo was shorter than Chay. Which Leo seemed to have noticed as well by the fact they started trying to stand up taller, nearly standing on tiptoes.

“Hola tio Foolish.” Tallulah said, smiling slightly. Her eyes were a bit puffy, but she looked fine otherwise.

Foolish gasped happily. “Talulu!” He exclaimed, grinning. He opened his arms, requesting a hug, which Tallulah accepted by simply thumping into his torso.

“Why is everyone here?” Chayanne asked.

“Well, Leo and I were working on the cookie quests,” Foolish started. “But when we got here, that goddamn shadow monster was already inside. Leo tried to catch it but it ran off and took the waystone again.” Foolish pouted, rocking side to side a little, still hugging Tallulah.

“Shadow monster?” Chayanne asked, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

“Not a nightmare stalker.” Fit added. “It hasn’t tried to attack yet. If spotted it just runs toward the waystone and disappears.”

“When did it start showing up?” Tallulah asked, having turned in Foolish’s gentle hug.

“Right around when Phil disappeared.” Fit said. “He… wasn’t doing good after he thought you guys died… He started wearing his Bolas mask more often and didn’t really want to talk much.”

Tallulah extracted herself from Foolish’s hug and pulled her teleport stone out of her pocket. She stared into it, sorting through the waystones she had saved. “Where did the Chunk Error Alley waystone go?” She said, aloud.

Chayanne frowned then pulled out his own teleport stone to flick through his saved waystones. “I recognize every waystone in my list. The Chunk Error Alley waystone is the only one missing… oh.” He looked up at his sister. “Remember what dad said when he showed us that place.”

Tallulah blinked. “¡Maldita sea!” She cursed.

“Language!” Bad called out from the room below spawn.

“Papa exiled himself to Chunk Error Alley.” Tallulah grumbled, shoving her teleport stone into her pocket.

“Chunk Error Alley?” Fit asked.

“A place dad found a ways-out that was really weird. Big tall cliff walls on either side of a valley. He said that if Lulah and I ended up dying at some point, he was gonna go there and just build.” Chayanne explained. “I already checked Rose’s Sanctuary, The Nest and both Uppies. Chunk Error Alley is probably the only place he could be now.”

Tallulah nodded. “That’s probably where he is.” She looked down at her arm crutches.

“I can go check.” Fit interjected. “What are the coords?”

Chayanne looked up at Fit. “No. I can go. He’s my dad.”

“And Phil’s my friend and I don’t want to let a kid go out on his own.” Fit countered. “Especially one of Phil’s kids.” Chayanne glared up at Fit. “I’ll place a sharestone when I get there and come back to bring you and Tallulah.” He offered.

Chayanne huffed but nodded. “Fine.”

Fit leaned back then pulled out his communicator. “I should see if Tubbo’s ok with Ramon staying with you guys for a couple days while I make my way there.”

Tallulah nodded. “He should be.”

“Yup. He is.” Fit confirmed when he got a response to his message to Tubbo almost instantly. “I’ll see if Ramon’s awake and let him know what’s going on.”

Fit palmed his teleport stone and vanished in a puff of particles.

Foolish rested a hand on Chayanne’s shoulder. “We’ll find your papa, I promise.”

Chayanne looked up at Foolish, and nodded. “I hope so…”

Across the server, Fit pushed open the secure door to Ramon’s little home. “Ramon? My beautiful baby boy~...” He froze as he saw what looked like Ramon’s shell shattered into two pieces on the floor by Ramon’s bed. “Ramon!?” He shouted, his heart dropping. He dropped to the floor beside the shells, and reached out, hesitant to touch.

“Ramon?” He whispered.

“Fit, shut up…” a young voice grumbled from the bed. Fit spun to look at the bed, where a groggy tanned dragonling was peeking out from under the covers. A pair of brassy horns peeked out of his dark, messy curls. Slightly off white scales were speckled across his cheeks like freckles, and his visible arm was completely white because of the scales. His face was notably more draconic looking than Chayanne and Tallulah, also having a set of asian dragon style whiskers.

“Ramon?” Fit asked, his voice soft.

“Yeah, I’m awake now, Fit…” Ramon yawned. 

“You’ve hatched?” Fit asked, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice.

“No duh, Fit…” Ramon shuffled the blanket around so he was able to sit up properly. He was wearing what looked like-

“Is that my shirt?” Fit asked.

Ramon crawled out of bed and yawned. “First thing I could find.” He said, rubbing his eyes.

Fit had to hurry to scrounge together clothes that fit Ramon while he explained what was going on. He let Ramon keep the shirt and found a pair of coveralls Fit had gotten from the federation that were too small for his larger frame. Ramon was pleased with them; and was perfectly happy staying with Tubbo and Sunny for a few days.

Ramon packed his tools while Fit packed for the long trip away from the settlement, and followed Fit to spawn where Tubbo was now waiting with Chay, Lulah and Sunny. 

Sunny immediately ran up and hugged Ramon’s leg. Ramon gladly picked up his little sister, holding her gently.

“Alright. Chayanne. What are the coords for Chunk Error Alley?” Fit asked.

Chayanne relayed the coordinates and Fit added a waypoint on his map. He flicked through his other waypoints to see what waystones he had that would be close by to reduce the amount of time he would be traveling.

He found a couple. “Alright. I'm off. I’ve got a red sharestone. I’ll set it up when I get there and come back to gather everyone.”

Chayanne nodded. Tallulah grasped Fit’s hand. “Come back safe.” She whispered.

Fit nodded, then used his teleport stone to warp to the waystone closest to Chunk Error Alley.

It took a little under twenty-four hours to get there.

When Fit arrived, he paused atop one of the cliffs and looked down over the valley below. A road cut its way up the center of the valley, various houses were pressed against the walls of the valley, flanking the road. A number of hanging bridges spanned across the expanse.

Fit looked down across the valley, looking for any sign of life. His eyes were immediately drawn to the only being.

The shadowy beast that had been seen at spawn numerous times.

It was building a house.

Fit grimaced and backed away from the edge of the cliff. He set up the red sharestone in a little depression a little ways away, and warped to spawn.

Bad was just emerging from the room under spawn. “Fit! You’re back!” Bad chirped.

“Hey Badboy!” Fit replied. “I found Chunk Error Alley. But I also found that shadow beast we’ve been seeing here.”

Bad paused, his tail lashing back and forth. “I see.” Someone emerged from the room after Bad.

The woman was brunette, a bit on the shorter side. “I have the rest of the mobs in cages, Bad.” She started to say, then looked up and smiled at Fit.

Fit recognized the woman instantly. Granted, the last time he had seen her, she was over 90 feet tall. Phil’s amazing wife, Kristin. Also known as Lady Death.

“Hi Fit!” Kristin chirped cheerily.

“Kristin! Hello! When did you get here?” Fit asked. Shit must be going sideways for Kristin to be here.

“Late yesterday!” Kristin smiled. “I finally got vacation time, and Phil’s been telling me about the island, so here I am.”

“Oh.” Fit grimaced. “How much have you been told about what’s been happening lately?” He asked.

Kristin frowned. “Well, I know that Phil’s awol right now. I can vaguely sense where he is because he’s my Angel and that he’s alive.”

Fit let out a breath. “Well, that’s a relief to know Phil’s alive. Have you met the kids yet?”

Kristin nodded. “I have! I did some baking with Chayanne earlier, then helped Tallulah in the garden. Phil raises good kids.” 

“Ok.” Fit glanced over to Bad. “Bad, call everyone you can to Phil’s garden. I’ve got news.”

It only took twenty five minutes for almost everyone to arrive. It took another thirteen for everyone to shut up so Fit could recount what he had seen. “So, the area has changed from how Chayanne and Tallulah,” Fit nodded to the pair of dragonlings sitting on either side of Kristin, “described the area. There’s now a road and buildings. And the shadow beast we’ve been seeing around spawn.” Fit finished.

Whispers and grumbles washed over the assembled group.

“I wasn’t able to see if Phil was there. But Chayanne and Tallulah want to go to look for themselves, so I think a guard would be a good idea to come with.” Fit continued. “Anyone want to volunteer?”

“If it’s for my bro or bro’s kids, I’m always happy to go!” Etoiles answered instantly.

Fit nodded. “Anyone else?”

Kristin and Bad raised their hands simultaneously. “Phil’s always been a help. Yeah, he’s emotionally constipated to the point he doesn’t admit when he’s having issues, but I want to help him.” Bad said.

“He’s my husband.” Kristin nodded.

Fit nodded. “Alright.”

Missa also raised his hand. “I’ll more than likely be useless, but I want to try to be of help.”

Cellbit, Baghera and Roier all raised their hands at the same time.

“He is Bolas.” Baghera said. “No Bolas left behind.”

“As Baghs said, Phil is Bolas. He is also a friend.” Cellbit nodded.

“I’m not letting Cellbit go without me.” Roier said. “And if it comes to a fight, I can take a few hits with my Mexican Lag.” 

Fit chuckled and nodded. “Is that everyone?”

“I want to come.” Tubbo said. “Ramon can watch Sunny.”

Fit nodded. “Alright. Anyone else?”

Silence. After a few moments, Fit nodded. “Ok. So the raid party is: myself, Chayanne and Tallulah, Kristin, Bad, Cellbit and Roier, Missa, Etoiles, Baghera and Tubbo. Anyone else planning on coming with?”

No one said anything, so Fit nodded. “Very well. Everyone in the raid party, pack your bags tonight, and when the sun rises on the morrow, we will set out for Chunk Error Alley.”

The group dispersed, leaving Kristin, Missa, Chayanne and Tallulah alone at the top of the wall. Fit was the last to leave, offering a nod to Missa and Kristin.

Chayanne and Tallulah dragged Kristin and Missa down into the bunker. Chayanne shoved all the beds together into one large bed, and had to drag his papa back away from the trapdoor down to Tallulah’s greenhouse with a “Don’t you dare go back down there. This is YOUR home.”

That sleep was the best Chayanne and Tallulah had in quite a while.

In the morning, the raid party gathered at spawn. Backpacks were topped up with consumables, exp tanks were filled with experience, armor was double checked to ensure it was at its best.

The raid party silently used the red sharestone Fit had set up to Chunk Error Alley.

They approached the edge of the cliff and looked down over the valley below. A waystone was resting on a raised dais down below. Etoiles was the first who leapt off the cliff toward the waystone, his glider catching the air, allowing him to land safely.

He activated the waystone, and brought his shield up, looking around for any sign of the shadow beast. Nothing. Etoiles waved to the rest of the group, who also used their gliders to descend to the waystone. 

“It’s changed…” Tallulah said. “The cliffs are softer.” Chayanne nodded in confirmation.

The cliffs rose high into the sky, casting parts of the valley into shadow. Slightly ruined houses and twisting trees lined the foot of the cliffs; bridges spanned the expanse overhead.

It was a beautiful sight. And almost utterly silent; except for the bird cries.

High overhead, birds flew and screamed. Crows. Thousands of crows.

A small flock landed on the roofs of the buildings flanking the road further down the valley. At first it was the one, soon joined by seven more. An additional two joined the resting flock. Then three more landed to silently stare at the raid party.

Fit felt a shiver go down his spine at seeing the thirteen gathered corvids.

The sound of their caws high overhead grew more and more fervent. Something was coming.

A large figure leapt down from the cliff, landing silently before the gathered beings. And the raid party saw the shadow beast clearly for the first time.

It was almost totally covered in feathers, vibrantly red eyes peered upon the group above a wickedly sharp beak. It was easily taller than Fit, probably somewhere around three, maybe three and a half meters tall. It was somewhat humanoid, with two legs and two arms, but it had an additional pair of limbs in the form of two massive feathered wings extending from its back.

Its eyes narrow as Chayanne steps forward, his scythe in hand. “Where the hell is my dad, monster!” The dark haired dragonling demanded.

Purple particles swirled around the Crowbeast, and a few moments later, it vanished. The particles trailed off further down the valley.

“Fuck!” Fit cursed. “Looks like we don’t have time to search the place for Phil. We might need to fight that thing.” Fit glanced at the avatar of the Goddess of Death. “Can you sense Phil in this area?”

Kristin nodded. “He is here. It’s very hard to pinpoint exactly where.”

Fit took the lead with Etoiles and Cellbit on either side. Following behind were Kristin and Baghera flanking Chayanne and Tallulah. Roier and Missa were behind them, with Bad and Tubbo covering the rear.

The group made their way down the road, keeping an eye out for the Crowbeast.

They had to pause a few times because despite the cobbled road being relatively flat, Tallulah was struggling. Tubbo ended up carrying the small dragoness.

All too quickly, they arrived at the far end of the valley and were faced with a courtyard. Where the Crowbeast was waiting.

Chayanne pushed past Fit, his scythe in hand. “I’m going to kill you…” Chayanne growled.

The Crowbeast’s eyes narrowed. ”Leave”. It growled. ”There is nothing for you, child”.

“SHUT UP!” Chayanne screamed. He leapt into the air, his feathered wings giving him extra lift. Chayanne landed the first strike.

He clung to the Crowbeast’s head, laying into it with his scythe. The other adults spread out around the courtyard, beginning their assault.

Fit loaded a gapple into his potato cannon, firing at Chayanne. Missa grabbed his throwing knives, each tipped in a different potion effect, and threw them into the Crowbeast’s hide.

Baghera revved her chainsaw and leapt at the beast with a scream. Cellbit followed after his blood-sibling, echoing her scream. Their madness fueled screams brought the Crowbeast’s attention to the pair.

Etoiles and Bad attacked from the far side, laying into the Crowbeast’s wings. Tubbo acted as support for the trio with his potato cannon, firing gapples, occasionally swapping to golden carrots to do chip damage to the Crowbeast.

Kristin took position beside the entrance to the courtyard, and fired volley after volley of tipped arrows at the beast. Tallulah released her battle beasts from their cages, trilling a tune on her flute, directing them to attack the Crowbeast.

Fit swapped between gapples and golden carrots. Aiming at his allies between the strikes to the Crowbeast.

The Crowbeast bucked, throwing Chyanne off after about 12 seconds, and the dragonling scrambled away from the beast and took up position beside Kristin to fire more tipped arrows at the beast.

Baghera and Cellbit laughed as they carved into the Crowbeast’s hide, tanking its focused strikes with the help of Fit’s gapple support.

Etoiles was bantering easily as he blocked the few heavy strikes from the Crowbeast that were aimed his way. “Oh! I almost felt that one! Come on! Come on! You can hit harder!” His taunting was helping Baghera and Cellbit immensely as it was drawing the Crowbeast’s agro away from the pair and toward the man with the near invincible shield.

Roier kept up a fast stream of Spanish with his strikes with his orcish sword. He caught a few stray wing blows from the beast, but his Mexican Lag massively reduced the power of the blows.

”Enough!”. The Crowbeast bellowed, and a surge of power pressed down on all gathered, knocking almost everyone off their feet. Only Etoiles and Kristin managed to keep their footing.

The Crowbeast seemed to grow an additional meter in height, a shadowy aura cloaking it. The wounds they had inflicted began to close.

Etoiles struck at the Crowbeast several times. Then pulled back with a french curse as the pressure abated and the Crowbeast swung a taloned hand at him. “It’s Withering!” He called out, falling back to where Kristin and the kids were. He grabbed the bottle of milk Tallulah tossed to him, knocking it back quickly.

The Frenchman dashed back into battle, swapping from his scythe to a multishot crossbow. He loaded it with fireworks and fired into the Crowbeast. The fireworks exploded into multicolored stars, the scent of burning feathers joining the smell of blood in the air. The Crowbeast reared back, its wings flaring, before it dashed at the Frenchman, swiping at his shield.

Baghera got a bit too close to the Crowbeast’s swipes at its agile opponents and was knocked across the courtyard into one of the buildings. “Baghera!” Cellbit screamed, laying into the Crowbeast, ignoring how its Withering aura destroyed his skin and its talons rent his flesh.

Fit cursed as he fired gapples at Cellbit, the instantaneous healing almost countering the heavy blows the Crowbeast landed, and the Regen slowing the harm of the Withering. Roier leapt upon the Crowbeast’s back, hacking away at the back of its head and wings, his Mexican Lag once more protecting him, this time from the Crowbeast’s Withering aura.

Tubbo worked to keep Roier’s health high, occasionally swapping targets to Etoiles or Bad. The latter of whom had stepped back and was now firing his own bow at the Crowbeast.

Missa muttered under his breath in Spanish as he clambered to his feet and hurriedly opened his backpack to craft more throwing knives. Fit paused his attacks to hand Missa a pack of poisons to apply to his knives.

Missa quickly finished crafting new knives and applied the poisons. He returned to throwing, going slower to try to reduce the amount of missed throws, aiming for the open wounds the close range fighters had opened. And the Crowbeast’s eyes.

Bad quickly disengaged to locate Baghera. She was hauled out of the house rubble, Bad dumping Instant Healing potions over her. She revved her chainsaw again, and leapt back into the battle, driving her chainsaw into its side, shredding flesh.

Bad followed after the golden duck woman, his own withering aura surrounding his scythe. He leapt into the air, slashing at the Crowbeast’s torso.

The Crowbeast snarled and reared back. It screamed, and its wings flared and pumped down powerfully, knocking Baghera, Cellbit, Roier, Bad and Etoiles away.

The wounds the group had just inflicted began to close again, but the Withering aura seemed to lessen.

Baghera, Cellbit, Roier and Etoiles raced back in, followed by Chayanne. Bad fell back, swapping to his multishot crossbow to shoot fireworks at the now raging Crowbeast.

It attacked indiscriminately, its regen higher than ever before. Any shallow cuts were almost instantly healed.

The islanders laid into the Crowbeast with even heavier strikes, trying to wear down its stamina and overwhelm its regeneration.

It was slow going, taking multiple minutes to draw close to the point of exhausting the Crowbeast.

Baghera and Cellbit wailed on the Crowbeast’s wings, bone crunching under Baghera’s chainsaw. Roier pummeled the back of the Crowbeast’s head, being grabbed at least twice and thrown across the courtyard.

Bad had swapped from dealing damage to focusing much more on supporting the fighters, racing around the courtyard, throwing Instant Healing potions and swapping totems whenever they popped.

Tubbo had swapped exclusively to using golden carrots, shooting burning rounds into the Crowbeast’s feathered hide.

It was beginning to slow, the Crowbeast’s attacks were growing weaker, and less frequent. That spurred the fighters into one last push, attacking with everything they could. 

The Crowbeast’s limbs faltered and it dropped to the cobbled ground, heaving. Chayanne took a chance leapt into the air, his grapple squawk firing out and latching onto the Crowbeast’s head. He slammed into the Crowbeast’s skull, and swung his scythe to bury the blade into its eye.

The Crowbeast is bleeding. The Crowbeast was slain by Chayanne

A ragged cheer surged from the fighters, and Chayanne stood gasping before the Crowbeast. He raised his scythe. “Where is my dad?” He demands.

The Crowbeast says nothing, simply laying panting, slowly bleeding out.

“ANSWER ME!” Chayanne screamed. “I KNOW YOU CAN TALK! WHERE IS MY DAD!?” He sobbed, raising his scythe.

The Crowbeast slowly looked up at Chayanne, the red of its eyes slowly fading. It said nothing.

Chayanne brought the scythe down, tears streaming down his cheeks. His scythe landed the final blow upon the Crowbeast just as its eyes fully cleared, becoming a beautiful, piercing blue.

Ph1lza was slain by Chyanne [-]Ph1lza

The Crowbeast lay dead upon the ground, its hide shredded by the fighters.

Chayanne stood over the body, trembling. The death message displayed across everyone’s communicators sent an icy chill over every single person awake. Even those not present at the Crowbeast’s death.

Tallulah sagged against Kristin, trying to muffle her sobs.

Chayanne dropped to his knees, his scythe clanking against the cobbles.

Missa slowly approached his son, kneeling down beside the dragonling and the transformed form of the man who helped raise the kid. Chayanne collapsed against his pa, tears streaming down his cheeks.

It was a silent return to spawn. Even Kristin’s insistence that Phil’s soul was ok wasn’t a sufficient balm for the hurt everyone was feeling that day.

The feeling of losing one of their own bit deep into all.

Over the next few days, Chayanne, Tallulah, Missa and Kristin stayed with Tubbo; Chayanne and Tallulah refused to return to the bunker that Phil had built for them.

Tubbo and Sunny insisted that Chayanne and Tallulah get out of the house after their first day of holing themselves up in the room Tubbo had provided for the pair. Kristin accompanied them on the short walk.

When the trio approached spawn, Bad was climbing up the ladder from the room under spawn. Except he was a good meter and a half shorter than usual. He paused and stared at three. His clothes were different. Far more formal than usual.

“Chayanne. Tallulah. Miss Kristin.” He said, nodding. The voice was wrong. And going by the series of events that had been going on, this had to be…

“Dapper?” Bad called out from the room. “You still have the Love Potion.”

Dapper looked down then at the red bottle in his hand. A mischievous smile wrinkled his pitch black skin. “I don't have it dad. I tossed it to you before I went up. Is your magnet on?”

It was silent down below except for the rummaging sound of Bad looking through his numerous backpacks. Dapper grinned. “I love messing with dad.” He whispered.

“Dapper, I can’t find it.” Bad said, sounding frustrated. 

“Oh! I found it in my back pocket.” Dapper grinned.

“Dapper!” Bad snapped, quickly climbing the ladder.

Dapper was a near clone of his father, pitch black skin, large demon wings, a pair of small curved horns at his hairline, and pure white eyes; the only differences being Dapper had white hair while Bad had dirty blonde. And Dapper had scales.

He looked to be only slightly taller than Tallulah. Only slightly. And he didn’t look at all mad about it. Yup. If you asked him, that’s what he would say. Not mad in the slightest…

“Oh! Hello Tallulah! Chayanne! Kristin!” Bad chirped happily.

“Hello Bad!” Kristin replied cheerfully. “How have you been?”

The two adults delved into small talk while Dapper, Chayanne and Tallulah shuffled off to the side. “How are you two holding up?” Dapper asked softly.

Chayanne shrugged.

“Really shit.” Tallulah said. “I- I just want my dad back.” She let herself drop to the ground to sit, her arm crutches splayed out to either side.

Chayanne sat beside his sister, and she leaned and rested her head on his shoulder. “I want him back too…” He mumbled.

Dapper stepped around behind his siblings and hugged them from behind, also wrapping his wings around them. “I’ll see if there’s anything in my grimoires about summoning souls of the departed. It’ll probably take me like a week.”

Chayanne nodded. “When you find something, come grab me and Tallulah.”

Tallulah and Chayanne eventually drifted back to Tubbo’s place with Kristin. Each morning Kristin took the two out on a walk, and each night after dinner, Tallulah and Chayanne went on a walk privately, just the two of them.

On the fourth day after the events at Chunk Error Alley, Kristin burst into Tallulah and Chayanne’s room. “Come come!” She chirped. “Spawn! Something has happened!” Chay and Lulah followed Kristin to spawn, where Fit and Etoiles were waiting.

“Hey Kristin!” Fit said upon seeing the trio arrive. “Can I ask what’s going on?”

Kristin waved everyone over to the waystone. “Come to Chunk Error Alley!” She insisted, warping away moments after the words left her mouth.

Etoiles frowned. “Well. Let’s go.” He said, shrugging. He quickly followed after Kristin.

Fit glanced at Tallulah and Chayanne who were both hesitating in the entrance to the waystone area. “If you don’t want to go, I can send Kristin a message.”

Tallulah inhaled and stepped up to the waystone. “I trust her. Papa spoke highly of her, so I’m going to trust that things will be ok.”

Chayanne nodded slowly. “What Lulah said.” He agreed.

The pair warped to Chunk Error Alley, Fit following close behind. Kristin was pacing back and forth, waiting for Chay, Lulah and Fit to arrive. She waved to them, indicating to follow.

The group of five walked down the road down Chunk Error Alley, crows cawing overhead, eventually they reached the courtyard where they had battled the Crowbeast. Where they had slain Philza.

His warped body was gone, the blood from the wounds the islanders inflicted having long dried. Dark feathers were scattered everywhere. The courtyard now felt so large.

Kristin stepped around behind Tallulah and Chayanne and pointed toward the center of the courtyard. “Look.” She said softly.

They looked. They saw. They ran. They grabbed the man who they treasured most in the world.

Phil dropped to his knees to clutch his children. “Chayanne? Tallulah?” He said, his voice soft as he leaned back to look upon the faces of the pair.

“It’s us, dad.” Chayanne said, grabbing onto Phil as tight as he could.

“Don’t you dare leave like that. Ever ever again.” Tallulah thumped Phil’s shoulder, squeezing him like he would vanish in a moment if she let go.

The soft rustle of feathers surrounded them as Phil’s dark feathered wings wrapped around them. “I swear. As long as you don’t die on me again. I’ll stay right here. As long as you need.”

Tallulah nodded against Phil’s shoulder. “I promise we aren’t going to die. Ever.”

Phil gently folded his wings and carefully stood, letting his beloved fledglings keep hold of him as best they could. He looked up at the three waiting and smiled. “Kristin…” He said softly.

Kristin walked up and intertwined her fingers with his. “I’m here Phil.”

Phil glanced at the two others. “Fit. Etoiles.” He smiled.

“Phil! My man. You’ve been through some shit.” Fit quipped. “Certainly came out the other side looking a bit better.”

Phil burst into laughter. “Fit, oh my god.”

Fit unlooped one of the thin lengths of leather he kept around his wrist. “You might want to tie up your hair, Phil. It’s a bit longer than before you turned into a big crow man thing.”

Which was the truth. Phil’s hair was noticeably longer than a month ago. Where before it just reached his shoulders, it now reached below the bottom of his shoulder blades.

Etoiles grinned at his friend who was wrapping the cord around his blond hair into a fluffy tail, then gasped. “Oh no!” He cried out in his joking tone. “The tropes! You have the anime mother ponytail!” 

Phil paused then burst into laughter. “Nooo!” He cried dramatically, leaning back a little. “What will my family do? I will die offscreen for some mysterious reason and that’ll kick off the hero’s journey for my traumatized eldest child!”

Chayanne punched his dad’s shoulder. “Dad shut up!”

Tallulah had dramatically fallen over. “Noo!” She exclaimed in the same jokingly dramatic tone as Phil. “I shall be so devastated by my pa’s offscreen death that I shall give up all music until my brother completes season 3 of his hero’s journey at which point he will return home and suddenly I’ll be ok again!”

Fit laughed at the trio’s antics. Kristin giggled then leaned in to give Phil a quick kiss. “My adorable Tech Guy Weeb.” She said teasingly.

It was a quick journey back to spawn. Fit had brought some solid experience so Phil was able to warp back to spawn, startling Bad who was in the middle of sorting out stuff for the cookie quests. 

“Oh my gosh!” Bad exclaimed. “Philza!?” 

“Sup Bad!” Phil chirped.

“I'm so glad you’re back!” Bad said. Two small beings ran past him and right toward Phil. “Ah! Pomme! Richas!”

The two smaller eggs thumped into Phil’s legs, making little sounds. They placed signs simultaneously, Richarlyson finishing writing first. ‘PHIL WHERE DID YOU GO?? YOU MISSED SO MUCH!’ Pomme finished up quickly after with ‘everyone’s hatching left and right im so overwhelmed’

Phil laughed and carefully knelt down to hug the pair of rambunctious eggs. “Ye. I’m back. Glad you two are ok.” He looked up at Bad. “You alright mate?”

The tall demon’s shoulders slumped. “It was so busy when you were gone. I was staying up at all hours trying to track this shadow beast thing that kept showing up at spawn. AND TURNS OUT! It was a certain angsty crow.” Bad leveled Phil with a glare.

“Oh.” Phil grimaced, his wings flaring then folding tightly against his back. “Sorry bout that mate. Wasn’t in the right headspace.”

Bad sighed. “It’s fine, Philza. At least you’re back and can start to heal now.”

Phil nodded. “Yeah. I hope so.”

Fit went and raided the bunker for clothes while Kristin, Tallulah and Chayanne took Phil to Tubbo’s. Tubbo was ecstatic to see Phil alive.

Fit brought a bunch of clothes for Phil. He ended up going with his usual outfit, but since Chayanne was wearing his spare striped bucket hat, Phil borrowed one of Kristin’s wide brimmed hats.

In the following days, Chayanne and Tallulah refused to leave Phil’s side for very long. Although his appearance had barely changed, Phil seemed far older than he had ever been. And whenever Chayanne and Tallulah left him alone and returned, he seemed… off.

So they stayed with him. As much as possible.

And when they couldn’t, Kristin took over staying with her husband.

Phil was a broken man. The Crowbeast was evidence of that. But his family was bound and determined to fill those cracks with gold.

[ryokawa]

ᜑ ﹙🜸﹚ toru oikawa — love, trust, and further abnormalities (scifi au)

y llorar, y llorar, y llorar por el. 🔭

┈ ⟡ basics :

age : 275

appearance : late 20s to early 30s

height : 6’5 ft

bday : july 20

job : poses as a pro athlete in the sport of giant pumpkin kayaking

species : josali

planet of origin : small moon called johsai, circling around the larger planet of seijoh

species details : he’s quite humanoid in all the ways it matters. he’s only slightly too long; from his height to the length of his arms, to the length of his legs and fingers. he also doesn’t blink frequently enough, and when he does it’s usually slowly, one eye at a time. he’s also much less tolerant of booze than humans. one shot is more than enough to get him tipsy. the only real way to find out he isn’t quite human, though, would be to do an x-ray. there it would quickly become evident he has an extra set of almost every single one of his organs. he only has one kidney, and half a liver, though.

┈ ⟡ little facts :

he’s such a hater specifically to things iwaizumi likes. he adores humanity so much, thinks they’re all so cute, no matter how boring they are, but then he takes one look at iwaizumi and he just. he has to be a hater.

but, while he does call iwaizumi boring and lame, he is quite fond of him. he is the one human he chose to save, after all. he even finds his cat adorable.

oikawa’s very good at being persuasive, charming to a fault and able to talk his way through most situations. when he cannot, he simply glances over at iwaizumi and expects him to handle the more violent aspects.

if not doing anything exciting, he will be driven to madness. his brain needs to constantly be firing, if not he’s almost 100% sure he will die. (he will not. but it feels like that.)

his moon has been destroyed because of him, because he fled it to earth. he is NOT supposed to be on earth. it’s a crime—literally! he’s a man on the run!! his family is dead because of his choices!! and he lowkey doesn’t care. he enjoys the thrill of being chased.

he’s also a revolutionary that hates seijoh’s government.

he does not tell iwaizumi this, afraid that if iwaizumi finds out all the terrible things happening around them are his fault, he will leave.

[rk-ish]

Nathalie Chapter 1 - Extended Author's Notes

This one will understandably be a bit different from the other extended authors notes I will do so lets just get into it!

[link to fic]

So the first question (if you didn't read the wiki page) is 'who is Nathalie?' or 'Is that an OC?' and those are all fair questions-

About a year ago I stumbled upon the wiki page of a scrapped protagonist for DBH and I remember finding it interesting and also thinking that I could find her and North cute together, though I don't remember the exact reason for thinking that anymore-

Regardless, when i then a few months later started to think about this AU i immidiately decided to bring the fourth protagonist back. Not only did I think that there was an interesting potential in her, but I also prefer stories that have something like a 50/50 split between male and female characters.

(later into the story you'll find that Nathalie isn't the only character I found on the wiki that I decided to bring back)

I did many versions of this first chapter, and it was the first one that i showed my friends and my sister because I really really wanted feedback on it.

First, my version of Nathalie was supposed to be as similar to Maddison Page from Heavy Rain as possible, since having played both HR and DBH and having seen the similarities in characters, it did make sense to think that would've been what Nathalie would've been in DBH. And I was initially really interested in speculating and trying to make her as close to what she would've been in DBH. I replayed HR to look at Maddisons chapters again.

Then, the last person who I showed one of the earlier drafts of the chapter to asked 'will we ever find out why she chose the name Nathalie?'

My initial plan was to google 'famous Nathalies', maybe find a journalist and mention that person offhandedly as some sort of inspiration.

This was however how I found myself scrolling trough a list of Nathalies/Natalies and noticed a pretty portrait of a blonde woman, and the text underneath it indicated that she was married to an another woman. I was ofc immidiately interested in this person and started doing further research.

That person was none other than Natalie Clifford Barney. Born in the 1800's, she was a lesbian who published the poetry book mentioned in the chapter in 1900. I wish that I could say more about it but I don't know any french.

I became a bit obsessed with Natalie Barney and ended up reading non fiction books about her for fun over the summer-

So the end product ended up being heavily influenced by Barney and the salons she hosted.

Though there is still some influence from Maddison, like the surname she chooses for herself, that one is probably borrowed from a famous journalist-

Also, Echo and Ripple and the Eden Club chapter was a big inspiration for this chapter ofc, even if they have been replaced by North and Nathalie in this

Anyway, I hope some people will enjoy this character or at least don't mind her too much, I was a bit nervous about this since well..people are a particular way about female characters in fandoms..but I do try to not write for an imaginary audience that is judging me and this story, even if I do hope that someone does ends up reading this series

The absolute best thing that could come out of this is that someone else takes an interest in the scrapped fourth protagonist and does something with the character! I think that if we as a fandom can come upp with literally everything about nines, we can start doing similar things for other minor (or straight up not in the game) characters!

Originally I had planned to make a map of the Star Park with GIS but I didn't have time, so maybe I'll include it sometime later!

Lastly, I wanted to include a link to this article that sums upp what I've learned about Natalie Clifford Barney pretty well [link]

[isawjamfirst]

what if i visualize the ending for Come and See huh what then

[ziracona]

Playing OWB, I always knock out lobotomites because they're victims, instead of kill them. Which sucks, because I only have boxing tape on me. It ain't easy :'-) but I've had several weird what must be glitch encounters with ones that are marked hostile but quit attacking now, and my experiences got me thinking about story stuff in OWB, so a little piece from the POV of a lobotomite experiencing my Courier 6. Which is a very interesting and fragmented pov to write, but I liked doing something very different.

-

-

I see something leaving the big house.

They come one by one usually, the ones not like us. They hurt us. Always.

Everything here hurts.

So, we kill them. We stop them.

One of us makes a sound in his throat, nods towards the shape. We’re all alert with the sound, turn to look. Take out weapons.

I draw my gun. My fingers know the trigger. Know the barrel like it’s another finger. I aim at the shape. It walks towards us and pauses at the top of the stairs, sees us see it. Takes a step back.

Good. Maybe an easy fight for us then.

The man who pointed the figure out charges, drawing his spear. Another of us runs with him, saturnite fist ready. I stay back behind, and shoot.

I hit it. I see my bullet clip the shoulder. The thing cries out and falls back a step. Somehow, not hurt bad. Armor, I guess. We don’t have it. I have the dress they give at a hospital. I don’t remember what I had before.

It makes me angry, so I walk closer, keep shooting.

My companions reach it, and I see them fighting. I see the figure has a gun on their hip, a spear at their back. But, they don’t draw the gun. No bullets maybe? They hit, bare fists. Pound, pound, pound. Crack, crack, crack.

Cuts open up on them, along their face and body, their back, their hands. They jam something into their side and fall back a step, and I see cuts close like magic. They’re afraid though. Eyes big. Surely, just fists against us, we must win.

But we don’t. It fights fast, hard, and above all, with stamina. It won’t go down. Heals itself again and again somehow, and hits and hits until the leader goes down. I feel a pang of fear. The second goes down a few seconds later, a fast upper-cut from this things. Then it turns to me.

I feel real fear. But. Surely. I must win, against this? A human. Wrapped fists. Nothing else.

It meets my eyes, and I see determination. It rushes me.

Panic. I fire, I fire, I fire. I know I hit it. A bullet even grazes its head. But then it’s on me, and a fist finds my face.

Pain. Hurts, bad. I lose strength from it. I keep trying to shoot, and I hit it, even so close, but it hits me too. Crack, Crack, Crack.

I feel myself breaking down. It gets me in the head, and I’m gone.

I think ‘I have died?’

Fear.

Then I’m gone.

Only. I’m…not?

I…wake up.

Not sure when. …Later. It’s gone now.

I sit up, head aches, confused. Why? Must have thought I was dead, I guess. But, I reach for my gun. It’s gone. Stolen. But everything else is here. My cloth I wear, my head strap I can’t get off, the lighter I picked up. And…an apple?

Confused more, I feel it in the gown pocket, take it out.

Fresh. Fresh apple. Smells…good? I take a bite, because I am hungry. It tastes good too.

Amazing. Usually all I eat is meat from something killed, or maybe old spoils found. Stale chip, can of beans, or if very lucky, these cakes of falling apart breads with sugars in tiny boxes. This is fresh, like it’s not old at all. Pretty, bright red.

I eat it all. Around me, I see the other two get up too. Alive. One takes out a pear. Confused too. I think about fighting him for the pear, but I haven’t finished my apple, and he eats the pear by the time I do. The other has an apple too. We eat. We move on.

-

I see the human again, same day maybe. Later. Far away from the big dome now. It’s leaving one of the smaller houses, full of horrible things. I see it from a distance and don’t know it’s the same one. Just hear fighting. I’m with different members of the group, and they run off. I follow. We see the figure fighting off the snakedogs. It has a big fist, like a saturnite fist, but bigger. It’s punching off their heads. I don’t recognize it. Just the saturnite fist weapon, and that it isn’t one of us. I draw my gun, and start shooting. The other two rush in, hoping to get to it while some of the snakedogs are up, so it will be more overwhelmed.

It sees us coming. I watch its head snap up. See panic through the visor I can’t take off. It hurries to turn, punch a snakedog. The head comes off. Last one. Turns to face the others of my group as they reach it, and I see it let go of the fist. Drop the big, powerful thing on the ground, and swing an empty fist at the one of us with a flaming sword.

Then I recognize it. I think ‘So strange. Lost its good weapon?’ and I remember. I remember, from this morning, and I see it closer and see it has the same long blue coat on, red hat.

I am not mad by the armor this time. I am confused. Curious. Still nervous too. Have to kill it before it kills us. I shoot, watching, to see how it heals. See if it can walk off bullets more. See if it keeps hitting.

It does. Keeps taking out little white…things. Like scissors. Some of me thinks ‘that’s a heal’ but what that means? I don’t know. It is a heal though. Makes flaming knife cuts go away. Good for it, because it takes punishment I couldn’t believe. Hits back with little wrapped fists. Crack, crack, crack. Hit, hit, hit. I hear, I see. I watch my people go down.

I hesitate as it turns, bloody, and rushes me again, breathing hard. I remember to keep firing. It knocks the gun out of my hand and I look down in surprise. Blink. It hits me. I hit back. Panic now. Remember it will kill me. Hit, hit, hit, but it hits harder. I go out.

I think, ‘I died.’

But, I wake up. Again. Before me, the other two are already up. Starting to stand, and looking for weapons gone now. I look for my new gun, sad. Know the thing took it again. It did. But there’s an apple. Fresh. My pocket, again. Pink apple this time. I hold it and smell it. Think ‘where it gets the apples?’ And eat it.

So good. Even better than red apple.

The others have things too. The knife companion takes out a drink. Fights a while before biting off the cap, and drinks it. I am very jealous. Almost jump him for it. Too busy thinking. Other has apple too.

I think hard.

Wonder.

-

I see it again, going to find a new gun. On my way out, I hear guns, and I follow, careful. Haven’t got new gun for me yet. Very hard like that to stay alive.

But, there it is. Blue coat, bright red hat. Tall. I see it shooting snake dogs again. Shooting the skeletons in the suits that help us sometimes. A dog with robot legs jumps it, and it punches that one. Interesting. I am curious.

Once it leaves, I sneak up, look at the dog.

No apples…

I keep following.

I see some of us attack it soon. Another group. I think about helping, but, I want apples. I don’t want to get hit again, though. So, this is my idea.

It hits them, like it hit me. It gets hurt, bad, doing it. But keeps healing. Keeps hitting. And, it wins.

After, it breathes hard. I hear it talking to itself. Sounds like a woman, maybe. Not close enough to hear it well. It spotted me once, so I’m careful now. Still no new gun, you know? Got to be careful.

I sneak little closer though. Watch.

It puts its big saturnite but bigger fist back on, wipes blood off forehead. Walks over to the unconscious bodies it fought, and I see it take their guns, their spears. Leaves bugglegum, leaves a drink, leaves a pear. An apple.

After trading food for gun or knife, it goes on. Once it’s gone on enough, I sneak over. I pick up the stuff it left. I take the gum and put it in my gown pocket. I eat the pear. I open the drink and it hurts my teeth, but it’s worth it. So good! A part of me tastes it, and I want to..cry?

Confused, I stop walking. Look down at it. Drink a little more.

I think ‘sarsaparilla,’ but, I don’t know what sarsaparilla is. Something in me very desperate asks me to know, but I don’t remember. It’s a brown word, and a sweet word. Spicy. A tree? I try, but I know I am wrong. I sit, hold the drink. Drink it slow between two rocks, hidden safe in a shadow. Hold sarsaparilla. There is a word on the bottle. Can’t read it, but I trace it with finger. Think. Girl on the bottle—picture. I almost remember something, but…

It hurts too much. Can’t. Put head in hands, breathe. Pain goes away. I keep drinking. In head, I see a picture of a tree that isn’t there. I sit beneath it in my head. I drink this in my head too, but a different one. It’s a good feeling, but, sad.

I don’t understand why.

Tree smells. Like…sarsaparilla? Brain says ‘pine.’ Not sarsaparilla. But I can’t remember ‘pine.’ Good word. Green word.

I get up.

I keep the apple. I hold it in pocket, and take out to smell. But don’t eat. Saving it. Save the bottle too, to smell. Smells like sarsaparilla and thinking about green pine words.

I chew the gun thoughtful, and try to find blue coat again.

I find her pretty slow this time. So fast! Unbelievable. All the way across the empty, she is sneaking. I run into her—almost for real. See her slide against a wall and hold breath when I almost step on her. I don’t want punched unconscious again. Too much hurt, even for apple. Besides. I have apple. If she sees it, what if she doesn’t leave new one too? So I pretend not to see. Keep walking.

Mutter, like she did alone.

She buys it.

Very proud, I walk around a ways, then sneak back.

Hah!

Worked. Very, very well. She is sneaking off towards the big robots. NO clue I sneak after!

Hmmm…Big robots…

I am nervous. Those will shoot me. I got new gun off a box, but not great gun. Big robots sometimes shoot missiles. Besides, she won’t leave apple on big robots, so nothing to get.

Still, I follow. Too interested now.

I see her checking out already dead robot, poking at stuff. Hm. Closer, I see her wipe forehead, and past bangs, she has head marks almost like mine. But, not one of us… We would be able to tell. Can always tell.  And, she doesn’t act like…? Must be wrong?

Hm.

Some of us hear her poking around. I pull back, and watch her fight in fascination. Some of the big robots hear the commotion as she hits my people off her, and they come running too. Uh-oh, I think, because they will shoot right through us. To surprise, I see her panic too. She looks ‘uh-oh’ at them, and shoves one of us off her. She snags gun off her shoulder, big, long rifle, and shoots a robot. It falls, but two more come. I see one of us take bullets from it and stumble back. She sees too, runs towards the shot man, and moves between him and robot. I see her get shot. She takes it like she does, and shoots the robot twice. It falls. One left. But she pauses, to look back at the man. He’s alive. Confused. And hitting her with his saturnite fist. She grimaces, falls forward, misses a shot at robot, and ignores him. Shoots robot. All three of my kind attacking her are still up, and one shoots her, knocks off aim.

Uh-oh, I think, more worry in the uh-oh. She is not doing as well.

Still, she ignores the man shooting her. Takes shot at robot, using free hand to block a hit from the spear the last member of their group has. Robot goes down this time.

Bloody and relieved, she turns, frantically starts hitting them. Amazed, I watch. She takes down all three.

Bloody, barely able to stand, she huffs. Grabs a chunk of broken concrete, and slides to ground against it. Sits there, tilts head back.

“This is the worst,” she says mournful.

Tired, she raises her wrist. What I thought was another, broken saturnite fist is on her left arm. She raises it. Taps it. I hear sound come out of it. Songing.

I remember…this sound.

Been…I think a long time.

Woman’s voice, but not her, plays from the arm. Says words my ears don’t know anymore. But, says not many words. I like that. Same words keep being said. ‘Night.’ ‘Your.’ ‘We.’ ‘Where.’ ‘When.’ ‘Begin.’

I don’t remember ‘night.’ Don’t remember ‘begin.’ Don’t remember…’when, where.’ I remember ‘we.’ We is…me, plus someone else. Me and someone.

I am proud; I remember.

I never remember.

But I know ‘We.’

She has no we though, unless it is the woman with song in her wrist. Many of us, just one of her.

I listen to the song too. She sings with it, quiet, just a few words. Just the last words, holding the last one long, much longer than the song. She turns off the thing on her wrist, but holds the song word. Then sighs, lets it go.

Stands alone, looks at the bodies.

Odd expression on her face. I wonder with a strange chest feeling, from where I hide in shadows, if she will get angry and crush them under her feet.

She does not.

Takes their weapons, slower than before, wincing as she stoops. Leaves a drink, leaves a cake box, leaves an apple.

-

I follow her for the next two days.

Sometimes, I lose her. She will go in a building, and I will not do that. Too many monsters. She maybe can be shot 400 times. I die if shot 400 times. I do not want a plant to eat me. I do not want to be explosion’d by robot.

Sometimes, she is just so fast, I lose her.

But, she is very loud. Thankful for that. Never lose her for too long.

I eat a lot of delicious apples.

Always keep one on me, too, to look at. To smell.

If I find the drink that smells like green word ‘pine’ and the brown word thought ‘sarsaparilla,’ I drink it, and keep the bottle to smell, replace the last with it.

She does the same thing, always. Will kill snakedogs. Kill robots, kill suits with skeletons, kill scorpions, kill bugs. Kills robot dog if scared. Never kills us.

Don’t know why. Won’t, though. Always takes weapons, always knocks out with wrapped fists, always leaves a little gift.

I don’t know if the gift is trade, or maybe, I think, ‘sorry’? Can’t remember what it means, but it makes sense. It thinks in my head like ‘backing off’ a little maybe. It seems right?

I don’t know for sure. I keep following. Sometimes, if she thinks she is alone, she turns on the song. It is not always that song, but that song she hears the most. It’s the best, because the others are too fast with too much words. That one is slow, very few words, very short, and a word I know. I like to hear it.

A couple times, she spots me, and I have to run away. She doesn’t chase if I do, though, so no more punching. Good, because head still hurts a little from before. Girl punches hard…

Day two, late, she sees me and I run and she calls out. I keep running till I’m far, and check to see if she is watching. She is. Standing still, staring at me. I pause. She crouches, puts out her hands, palms to me. No weapon. I know her fists are weapons though. Very painful.

I watch still, interested. Look back. She calls again, soft. Motions towards herself.

I think she is trying to lure me back.

Too smart, I don’t do that. I keep running, hide.

Sneak back after a few minutes, from a side. Still, she is watching where I went, head tilted.

Strange look on her face. Sad and not sad at same time.

I think about that.

-

Third day.

I see her fight many things.

Robot scorpions (10), many of us (many), big robots (4), different kind of big robot (2), skeleton suits (forgot to count), green plant monster (2, very bad), snakedog (18 maybe).

Good day for me. Lots of food. Found a glowing drink. Maybe saw god after drinking it. Was funny again for a minute too.

Felt very happy.

I like following her. Very interesting to do. Different. I forgot about different. Different is not very safe, but is other things. Like full of food.

She is doing better. Avoids places with big robots mostly now. Sneaks more. Walks on the big pipes a lot, which makes harder to follow her because if I do, she sees me and have to hide. Still, I am better at following now too. Getting pretty skilled.

And then, she gets too close to us.

I don’t realize, because I watch her, not where she goes. But we get close to the cave. To home cave.

I don’t realize, until one of us runs past and sees me, and calls to me a sound I know. ‘Again!’ A call to fight. One of the words we remember.

I stand up automatic at the sound, then blink, see more and more of us. Not just from by me, from past too. Maybe eleven, twelve? So many. She was looking at a box, but hears us coming. Looks up and sees. Tries to run.

She can’t get past. Too many come in from the left side of the big rocks now, and there is nowhere up on the rocks to go. She doesn’t see how many are on my side yet. Starts trying to fight. We push her into a corner. I don’t realize I’ve followed until I’m at the edge of the group, watching up close as she punches one of us unconscious like before.

I am waiting for her to win and waiting for her to die. Different parts of memory both sure of outcome.

I feel nothing.

Just far far away.

Then I am shoved forward. I am close to her, watching. Right on her.

She is scared. Hits me. I fall back, surprised. Two jump her from behind with knives.

I see her heal herself, but too many of us from too many angles at once. We are winning for once.

She tries to push through and run.

Almost makes it, but one of us catches her on fire. Loses sight in the fire, loses footing. Falls. Snaps an ankle when she hits rock below. We go after her like a wave.

I think ‘she is going to die now,’ without anything beyond thought. Then I think ‘I can take all the apples off her if she dies.’

But. I don’t want them that way.

I am sure they will not taste so good if I take them off her pockets.

I am suddenly very frustrated.

If they kill her, the apples won’t be the same at all.

I push forward, push past.

They don’t fight me. We are all fighting her.

I see her struggling. Made it up to one foot. I see the gun at her hip. I see the bigger than a saturnite fist on her belt. I see the spear on her back. Still, she hits with fists. She got some of us, unconscious. But we are still five, and she is trying to heal as I get close.  Jams the little white thing into her side as I reach her. One of the others hits her so hard, he knocks it out of her side, and she cries out. Not a sound like the song. I realize she is about to go down.

She sees me.

I hit her.

She falls, covered in blood from guns and knives and bruises from fists.

I go down on top of her.

The others make sounds. Want to see what she has too. I growl at them and snap, and they back off. They are all hurt from her punches, but she only hit me once. I have my gun.

I look back down at her as they back away, lose their interest.

I try to remember death and unconscious, the way to tell. Heart tells. Heartbeat.

I pick her up from shoulders, put my ear to chest, listen. There is a sound. Brain doesn’t think heartbeat sound, but what other sound in chest is there? Doesn’t matter, I think, because sound is alive. Dead is quiet.

That seems sure to me, so, relieved, I pick up the blue coat woman, and put her over a shoulder.

We are by my home, so I turn. The others ignore me now. I claimed the body, it’s mine. We bring meat home. We bring findings. We bring anything we want.

I pass into the cave, past the graves we put outside, past some of the things we keep. Past a few of the others inside, with their own beds and memories, and special things like my apple and my bottle, but not as good.

Keep walking, far in. Find my little bed. Raised bed, like a table, but soft. I think it was for hospital once, like my cloth I wear. I tap the dolls I hung from the post by the bed. It’s nice to be home.

Set her body on the bed table. Put ear to the chest again to be sure, but it makes its not quite heartbeat sound.

Good, I think, You are alive.

That’s alright then. She will get back up and leave apples. We keep going like before. All will be good.

I felt nervous, but now I feel okay.

Still, after a few minutes, she is still quiet. I listen several times. Chest sound is going. The blood from cuts stopped, but she is not waking up fast.

With time, I get curious. Poke around a little. Don’t go through pockets, because I don’t want to know how many apples. But I remember the marks I saw once, and I push back her hair.

I am right. There are cuts around her head too. I feel for my own. Mine still hurt. She has them, like all of us, and I am excited, then confused. If…she is one of us, why can’t we tell? Why we kill her? Why she fights us? I’m not remembering. We can just tell, with each other, if they are us. She is not. Not sure how I know. But I don’t know why now.

She has our marks though, I think, confused again. Marks, but not us. Strange.

Maybe she is broken.

I can’t remember where we got marks. I try, and shudder. My head says ‘don’t look.’ It scares me. Like the answer will kill me if I look behind the corner to see it. I quit looking.

Instead, I trace the marks on her head.

She makes a sound of pain, and scrunches her face. Her eyes open. She blinks, squints, finds me above her. I tilt my head, forget to be scared of punches. Relieved it didn’t take so long to not be dead.

Behind me, I hear an angry hiss.

I turn, and to surprise, there is one of the others. He gets close, trying to look past me. Sees the girl, and snaps at me. Anger, alarm. Pushes past.

I realize to surprise he is going to grab her.

“No!” I hiss back. Grab his arm, drag him hard to the side and shove back.

He falls, and drags himself up, angry. Others hear, come towards us. See her, start to hiss and shout. Start to try to get her too. I swing at the first who comes, and hit hard with body of my gun.

“Stop you!” I warn in a growl.

She is MINE! Why are they -?!

They do not stop. They come again, try to get at her. Hiss, growl, call out. I shove one, hit another.

“Stop you!” I shout louder. Behind me, I hear the girl move. Look, and see her trying to sit up.

I worry she will hit me too.

A gun crack. I turn, see one of us with a rifle. Look back, worried, as I hear her cry. She is holding an arm. New, fresh blood. No, no, no! She was so close to dead. More hits, she dies! No more anything!

Enraged, I raise my own gun. She will not kill us. I will. I shoot him.

I hit.

The others attack me then.

I shoot, I hit, and I don’t remember. Something gets me, hard, in the head, then another.

I go down.

I think very angry, very sad, it is not fair. Can’t remember why this is cruel. It is not right though. It’s…it’s….

Gone then.

I am sure I am dead this time.

-

But, I wake.

I think, fuzzy, ‘maybe a new apple.’ Feel relief.

Everything hurt.

But, something is good too. …The ground is good. I used to know it. It feels familiar. Like I could sleep here forever maybe.

I try and open my eyes, because that seems okay.

It’s harder than I think. Eyes feel heavy, tired. Head is wrong…er, than usual. Not sure why. Everything is fuzzying, like I am dying from no water, but in a way that feels warm and good. Like dying, if I liked it.

There is light, and as eyes start to work, I see blue coat looking down at me.

I am not so worried, because I know she will just hit me and leave an apple if she notices I am not dead.

I decide that is okay. Watch, stunted, as she moves. She sees me see her then. Stops fiddling with this thing above me, and turns to face.

“Hey,” her voice is soft, like water when I am hot in the sun, cools me, “You’re okay. Just hold still, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I don’t know the words. I think ‘you’ maybe is me. But not the rest. It feels familiar though. She doesn’t talk like she will bite. I am too fuzzy to care. Just blink eyes heavy, watch her. Something is stuck in my arm I notice, and I wonder if that will hurt me, but it’s hard to feel worried. Hard to feel anything but fuzzy.

“Can’t you do anything?” she asks something behind her.

I don’t know those words. I thought ‘you’ was me. But, she is not looking now.

“Not without a brain,” comes a new voice.

I do feel panic then. She will hit and leave an apple. Anything else kills me.

I struggle to sit up so I can fight or run away.

 So hard to do, and that scares me more.

“No no!” she calls, and I know that word. Not a good one. “Hey, easy,” she says, catching me with her hands and trying to push me back down, “Just calm down.”

Her voice is soft, but I am very scared. I struggle back, trying to see the other voice. I see no one, and that is bad. Could be anywhere.

The blue coat lets go with one hand and taps the thing stuck in my arm quickly. I suddenly feel calmer, almost like I might throw up, but so fuzzy I want to shut my eyes. I try to struggle, but I forget why as the fuzziness gets heavier. After a few seconds, the blue coat’s hand lifts carefully off my chest. I can’t remember why I was getting up before, so I lay still. It seems better there.

“Look,” she says, glancing behind her again, “I will GET you a brain—the right one! But there has to be something in the meantime. He’s not brain dead! He doesn’t act routine. His pockets are full of stuff I’ve left behind. He’s been following me. They all keep keepsakes around. They’re not brain dead, not totally. The connection must at least be marginally existent for them!”

“I can’t help you without his brain,” says the same man voice before. Still, I see nobody. That seems worrying still, but not enough to move for now.

“What about you?” asks the blue coat in frustration, turning in another direction, “Switch—lights!” she adds, sounding excited, “Smart lights!”

“Oh, good idea sweetie!” comes another girl voice. Not the wrist voice, and not blue coat.

Lights switch on around me then, bright, blinding, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

And feel.

Oh my god.

Despair, and horror, revulsion, and agony, hate, terror. I am filled. I can’t speak. I can barely think and stay alive.

I remember. Things I can’t usually understand.

There was a robot. Arms and knives, whirring saws. I was held down, screaming. I remember the vices, the grips. I remember the scoop, ripping out my brain. Metal pieces screwed into my skull.

No, I think. Praying for the understanding to go away.

It stays. It plays and replays. I see other lobotomized people, I see memories of killing. Eating raw meat. Animal. Not a person anymore. Not anything.

I am shaking. I can almost remember. Half remember words, half remember feelings and thoughts. Half remember people. I know I loved them, but I can’t remember what they were, I can’t remember their faces. I see them, then forget them immediately.

I can’t remember my face. I can’t remember my name.

I remember the snapping of greymatter as my brain went out.

I remember things…I remember pieces of things.

I remember the pine tree and pine is a word, not the color green, but I can’t remember what it looked like anymore. Why I loved it.

I don’t know who I am.

“I…I’m already dead,” I whisper. I find words again, and those are them. I feel myself remember how to cry, and I do, because I feel too much despair and terror to keep inside. I have to get it out. I would eject it any way I can.

This is a person, above me. I know that now.

I see her. Try to ask for her to help me, but I don’t know how to fix me. I don’t know what to ask. I don’t know how to explain.

I try, to find the words. ‘My brain,’ I think, ‘please.’

But I can’t. I can’t find the words I think, not as words I can remember to speak. I know what happened, but human words are gone.

I’m dead. I’m a corpse.

“It’s okay,” says the blue coat woman. I see worry in her face. Her hand touches my shoulder.

I spasm with my shaking.

Terror in me, I realize the clarity I have can go away.

I lose my sanity completely.

Terrified, I find motor control and reach a hand to her and grab her arm. “Help me.”

I find words. “Help me help me help me!” I beg. Find the arm with my other hand, cling to her. Try to drag myself up to her and hold on tighter, afraid now she will leave me to be dead again. That she will turn off whatever she turned on to raise me from my grave. “Please please please! Please help me! Help me! Help me! Help me! Help me, please, please, please help me! Please help! Help me!”

I am sobbing. She is answering me, but I don’t hear it past my wails for several tries.

“I’ll help you, it’s okay! I’m going to fix you—I’ll fix you! I’ll help you,” she calls back, and I don’t know the words.

I can only think ‘Help me’—don’t forget don’t forget the words oh please please don’t forget don’t lose them they’re the only words I know to save me. I keep using them. ‘Help me help me help me.’ I am trying to climb up her arms and dig my fingers into her spine so she can’t be rid of me. So I won’t die in the cracks of the ground I’ve been living in. Terrified like I can breathe fear and it is me.

Her arms go around me and she goes down onto the bed with me, wraps her legs and arms around me, buries my head against her chest. Lays her head on top of mine. Holds tight. I cling back. Shaking. Trying to grab more and more and more, until I realize I have grabbed her finally as solidly as I can. My hands still fidget. I plead and plead and plead until I lose my unused voice. I can only hear choked, awful whispers from my throat, but still I try. Finally, past my own dying begs, I hear her making sound back.

I begin to hear it slowly, very slowly, when I can’t hear me anymore.

She clings to me, holding strong, but not crushing. She is saying, “It’s okay.” She says. “You’re going to be okay. I will fix you. I will heal you. You aren’t dead. You’ll be alive again. I promise. It’ll be okay.”

‘Alive again.’

I hear that.

I think ‘again, that’s in the song.’

‘Begin again,’ I know the words now. The meaning.

I feel some kind of clarity. Comfort. Like the song was a promise too. Like the right words.

“Alive again,” I start trying to repeat. I can’t hear myself beyond a hiss anymore, but I try. I try, I try, I try.

She must hear it somehow. She says, “Yes, alive again. I’ll fix you. I promise. It’s okay. Calm down, okay? I can heal you.”

Heal.

I think of the little white…stimpacks, I almost remember. ‘Heal.’

I think of closed cuts.

Heal.

I try to shut my eyes. Try to not cry anymore.

So tired. Maybe I will die from the crying. I worry sincerely then that I might.

“There you go,” she whispers, and her grip loosens, “It’s okay.”

I panic. “No,” I beg, opening my eyes, shaking again, trying to find her face and pull her closer to me, “No don’t go Apple don’t go please!”

I am crying again. I see her face, surprised. Pain. She must be hurt too.

“Don’t put me back please,” I weep, “Don’t make me like I was please please! Do anything! Anything! Don’t break me again, please! Please don’t!”

I think she will cry.

“I won’t.” Her voice shakes.

I am too scared to believe her.

Trembling all along my body, I tug my head against her chest again and try to hold tight to make it hard for her to go. I can’t breathe slowly, and I can’t get enough breath in my lungs. It scares me too. I am afraid it means I am already dying again. So soon.

“No please,” I whimper, “Please Apple. Please. Don’t hurt me anymore. Don’t break me again. I’m sorry. Please. Don’t break me. Don’t kill me again. Please, I want to be a person. Don’t take me away. Don’t. Please don’t. Help me. Please, please. Please. Help.”

“Okay,” she promises, not moving anymore, “Okay.”

She stays a long time. I beg, and cry, and plead. She says words I remember and words I don’t and words I half know, voice soft like the bed, and sad, worried. Kind.

She holds on to me.

I am so exhausted from begging and crying and being a corpse, I lose consciousness finally, after hours.

I’m already dead.

I was the whole time. I just didn’t know it.

-

When I wake up again, I feel heavy. Stiffness like a corpse. I am sure that is what I am now. I am afraid to open my eyes and see it. I know she will be gone. Everything is gone.

But, I open my eyes.

She is still there.

I am curled up on her, clinging. She is quiet, watching me. Awake, and still there. She did not leave me.

“Hey,” she says softly. I stare. “How are you doing?”

I try hard to remember what that means. Makes my head ache to try.

But.

…’am I okay’. I turn the sound into words into meaning. Try to go the other way and turn meaning into words into sound.

“I am alive?” I check worriedly.

She nods. “Yes.”

I think. My voice cracks. “I can stay alive?”

“You will,” says Apple, “I promise.”

I cry again. Pull myself closer to her, worried. “You help me?” I ask when I can make words.

“Yes,” she promises, arms wrapping gently around me, “I’ll help. Don’t worry. We’ll fix you up. Like new. I’m really good at medicine; I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

I try to express gratefulness, but all the words I can think of are ‘We.’ That she called us ‘we’. Me, plus somebody else. Her, and me. Not alone now. Not alone.

“We?” I manage.

“Yes, we,” she agrees, “We’re together now. You’re not alone.”

I try to believe it. Try to calm down. “Two of us?” I suggest.

“Two of us,” she agrees, and there’s something important in her face.

[twin-azure-dragon-wave]

*Drabble*

Sesshomaru's swords seem to have minds of their own and when it comes to one girl, their thoughts are loud enough even for him to hear.

Ao3

His swords adore her.

He realizes this when Rin begins residing in the village.

Tenseiga becomes more…awake, when he visits, actively reacting to her presence like it’s encountering an old friend. It grows alert, chatty, the sentiments heard as plainly as spoken words.

Sometimes it’s beaming with pride. “What a great idea, wasn’t it? Resurrecting her.” Sometimes it’s despairing and apologetic. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save her again.”

Occasionally, Bakusaiga even chimes in. “Do you think she remembers it’s my birthday today?”

They’ve made themselves quite clear.

While he may be their master, it’s Rin they long to serve.

[merbear25]

Hi! I was hoping to request a platonic Vash x reader :) kinda like a sibling relationship, you don't have to do this if you don't want to! I hope you have a good day :D

Hello, hello! This is such a wholesome request, so I’m more than happy to write this for you. Plus, we always need more Vash/Trigun content, don’t we? Thank you for requesting it! I hope you like what I’ve written for you. Hope you have a fabulous day too💜💜

CW: gn!reader, platonic (general and sibling), headcanons, fluff

The big brother type (Vash)

There weren’t many people he allowed himself to get close to and truth be told, he was still a bit reluctant to allow himself to feel a bond with you. However, he couldn’t help but feel protective over you.

You were one of the most gentle souls he ever had the pleasure of meeting. Doubts swirled his head, trying to lead him into believing you were too pure to want to befriend him.

Despite this, he was always his cheerful self around you, hoping not to give away his inner conflict.

He was always there for you. Whenever you were in trouble or needed someone to chat to, he was more than happy to oblige. You gave him the same courtesy.

Though he was hesitant to take you up on your offer to be his shoulder to lean on, your extended kindness was enough to help him feel cared for.

With the weight of the world on his shoulders and too much personal responsibility he took on, he would inadvertently hurt you by means of protecting you from what was to come.

Leaving you behind without really telling you where he was going or even when he was setting off broke your heart more than you’d care to admit. That being said, he’d always come back with that apologetic grin on his face.

You’d lay into him a little, shouting that he could’ve at least given you a heads up. He’d apologize but ultimately stick to his decision because it was the safest option for you.

If we’re going more sibling vibes, then he’d tease you a bit to get a rise out of you. It would never cross the line, seeing as he was only doing this as a laugh but you’d pout regardless.

You’d be weirdly competitive with each other too and over things that held no significance, like who could run to that fence that fastest. This would then be followed by the two of you arguing over who got there first.

Even with the playful teasing from the both of you, you didn’t want to think of your life without the other.

[jack-o-cel]

Seeing people freak out about how weird Tentacle Entanglement is, is so funny, cause I’ve definitely read weirder smut over the years

I don’t mean any disrespect when I say that btw, it’s just something I find funny. I’m so curious now how other Siggy Shade books are now tho lol