#Antlered flutter fly

[little-creature-of-the-day]

little creature of the day: Antlered flutter fly

these guys look super silly from far away

image source

[gordonengineswifenirmal]

I feel like I should be watching this completely knackered. Liquored up AND stoned. The closeup is cute, but not nearly as amusing as whatever this is

antlered flutter flies (toxonevra superba) | this_mama_fetz on ig

[pupsmailbox]

MOTH︰BUTTERFLY ID PACK

NAMES︰ acantha.　adela.　adley.　aetheria.　aiden.　ainsley.　alis.　allison.　amos.　angle.　ankova.　antler.　apollo.　apple.　arches.　arden.　argent.　ari.　aruna.　ashworth.　aspen.　asteria.　astralyn.　atlas.　barberry.　bay.　bee.　belina.　bellamy.　belle.　blair.　blake.　blossom.　bright.　brighton.　bryn.　butter.　butterfleigh.　butterfly.　cadi.　cai.　calesia.　cali.　canary.　carson.　cayana.　chai.　cherry.　chouko.　cinnabar.　cistus.　clancy.　clifden.　cloud.　clover.　cosmia.　crimson.　daisy.　dakota.　december.　dewick.　dorian.　dot.　dusk.　dust.　eclipse.　eilira.　eilliot.　ellison.　elnora.　emerald.　ermina.　ermine.　esmerelda.　esther.　evelyn.　evern.　falena.　fern.　finley.　fisher.　flora.　fly.　flynn.　forest.　fox.　foxglove.　galatea.　galium.　garnet.　ghost.　ginny.　greta.　grey.　haden.　haven.　hawk.　haworth.　hayden.　heath.　herald.　hesperia.　holli.　hollis.　isabella.　ismeria.　isola.　jael.　jayden.　jersey.　july.　june.　juniper.　juno.　kahli.　kai.　karran.　karson.　kentish.　kimko.　kit.　kori.　lace.　lackey.　langmaid.　lepida.　light.　luca.　lucy.　luna.　lunar.　malam.　maple.　march.　mariposa.　marlow.　marrow.　mars.　may.　micah.　mirza.　mocha.　molie.　monroe.　moth.　mothra.　mothy.　nettle.　november.　oak.　ocaria.　oleander.　opal.　palmyra.　paru.　parvaneh.　peach.　pearl.　pepper.　pine.　pinion.　plume.　poppy.　psyche.　quinn.　reed.　reid.　rekoa.　remi.　riband.　ricki.　robin.　rose.　rosy.　rowan.　ruby.　rufous.　sable.　saffron.　saga.　saige.　scarlet.　scotch.　sibylla.　silver.　skyler.　sula.　swift.　tara.　tate.　tatum.　tawny.　tera.　thora.　tiger.　una.　vanessa.　violet.　virginia.　weaver.　winter.　wren.　yara.　zephyr.　zephyra.　zion.　zoumi.

PRONOUNS︰ admir/admiral.　ant/antenna.　anten/antenna.　antler/antler.　apple/apple.　blood/blood.　blue/blue.　bu/butterfly.　bug/bug.　butter/butterfly.　carpet/carpet.　chalk/chalk.　cherry/cherrie.　chrysalis/chrysali.　clear/clearwing.　cloud/cloud.　cocoo/cocoon.　cocoon/cocoon.　dagger/dagger.　dark/dark.　dew/dew.　dot/dot.　dusk/dusk.　dust/dust.　erm/ermine.　eye/eye.　flame/flame.　flap/flap.　flow/flower.　flu/fluttflutter.　fluff/fluff.　fluff/luff.　flutter/flutter.　fly/fly.　forest/forest.　fri/fritillary.　frit/fritillery.　goat/goat.　gold/gold.　hair/hairstreak.　hawk/hawk.　hawk/hawkmoth.　heart/heart.　hide/hide.　hook/hook.　in/insect.　insect/insect.　lace/lace.　lamp/lamp.　leaf/leaf.　lepidoptera/lepidoptera.　light/light.　lu/luna.　luna/luna.　lunar/lunar.　maple/maple.　mo/monarch.　mo/moth.　mocha/mocha.　moon/moon.　mor/morpho.　moth/moth.　nec/nectar.　night/night.　night/night.　nocturnal/nocturnal.　noct/nocturnal.　oak/oak.　plume/plume.　reed/reed.　riph/ripheu.　rose/rose.　sallow/sallow.　shark/shark.　sil/silk.　silk/silk.　small/small.　snout/snout.　squeak/squeak.　squeak/squeaker.　stripe/stripe.　sul/sulphur.　swa/swallow.　swa/tail.　swall/swallowtail.　swift/swift.　tiny/tiny.　tuss/tussock.　wax/waxe.　wing/wing.　☁️ . ⭐️ . 🌕 . 💡 . 🦋 .

[mjrtaurus]

Dragon announces his plan to join the Marines over dinner one night. Everyone is in varying degrees of shock (especially considering this is right at the peak of Dragon's emo era) and surprise.

Everyone except Urpi.

Dragon’s teen years weren’t kind to him. Beyond not kind.

His body was all but being drawn quartered between four horses named Human, Shandian, Mink, and Zoan. Too tall, too thin, molting feathers, red-and-blue face, fangs, antlers, shedding skin… it was a nightmare for him.

He was always moody, always wanting to be left alone, always tangled up in a mess of emotions, always angry…

A part of Urpi misses the little boy who would run to her with a smile and a flutter of his wings, but she knows he doesn’t have much reason to smile right now. She knows his wings- and everything else- hurt right now. She gives him space, but she lets him know that he’s always welcome to talk with her, no matter the time or day.

It’s God Valley that finally has the poor boy sitting down with her over the comfort of a hot drink and the evening chirp of crickets.

Garp had by no means been close to being lost in that battle, but it was still terrifying for his family. Terrifying especially for Dragon, who beneath all the moodiness was still as soft-hearted as he’d always been (and always would be).

And now the WEJ was swarming the newly dubbed Hero of the Marines and his family day in and day out. There were times when Dragon was so overwhelmed by all the light and noise and people that he would accidentally call in storms off the sea.

He told her that night on the porch that he wanted to run away from it all, but he wanted to help people while he was doing it.

He told her that he wanted to join the marines, and he had a whole argument planned about how he knew the marines weren’t the best, and he knew he would be putting himself in danger by enlisting, but he couldn’t stay still anymore.

But he only gets about two words into his argument before Urpi gives him her blessing.

She’s not going to come between him and his ability to stretch his wings. This little town is too small and too low to the ground for him to get the running start he needs.

She wants to see her son fly.

Dadan storms out of the dinner, face as red as her head of curls, spitting contempt for the seagull flag and her idiot little brother that she loved too much to see him leave in the same breath.

Kuzan is quiet, as always, but he’s watching and he’s listening. He wants to hear what his brother has to say before he makes any calls. Yeah, it’ll suck to see him go, but really… Dragon was always the type to stand up when it counted.

Surprisingly, it’s Garp who is the most outwardly critical of his decision. Garp who had just come back from seeing tens of hundreds of bright-eyed young men meet their death.

For as much as he gave his children the “you’ll make fine marines” ribbing, he knows how grueling the path in life is.

And Dragon, his sweet, sensitive, gentle soul of a son…

He didn’t want to see the marines break him down and shape him back up.

He didn’t want to lose his son to all of that…

[calsper]

DWC: Day IV

SURRENDER & TRANQUIL @daily-writing-challenge

Anything you can do on land, you can do on ice. How am I supposed to bring skating back into the world without having first perfected what I teach?

He understood the sentiments Calsper always reminded him about but Tirrak did not understand how something as dangerous as backflips were necessary. Just having to watch his elven roommate attempt them on the ice countless times in a row without surrender made his knees ache and all he was doing was whittling nearby upon a fallen log, the pond Cal favored freezing for his practice only a few yards out. Another drogbar slain meant another bead to carve for the charm on his antler tassel.

“Why don’t you wear joint guards?” the Highmountain tauren hollered out to the sin’dorei when he yet again landed clumsily onto his elbows and knees.

Calsper dusted them off of frosty debris before calling back, “Movement restriction! Bruises are pretty, anyway.” Something Tirrak couldn’t quite make out that followed that contained the accursed ‘almost there’ phrase which meant he’d have to continue sitting tense until the other was satisfied with his efforts. Earth Mother have mercy; the lad was relentless. Every flip risked a broken neck…

Another half hour passed. By the end of it, one damned backflip had finally been both landed and skated out of with enough grace that the weathermancer allowed himself to take a break by gliding back towards land, the ice in his wake rapidly melting behind him. The blade on each sole disappeared with an enchanted shimmer before stepping into the dirt and just like that, it was as though he were never out there on a makeshift rink.

Short black gloves were peeled off in order to have better dexterity when removing the hair tie from his ponytail—the blue-to-white ombre of a layered bob fluttering down once freed. “Joint guards,” he scoffed beside Tirrak.

“I would wear them.”

“You won’t even go out there.” A foot reached over from where he stood to nudge at the Skyhorn’s thigh. “Keep saying you’d—”

“—Fall straight through the ice? Because I would. I’d chip it all up with my hooves and plummet right into it. Don’t care how thick you say you can make it; my kind don’t seem suited to what you do in the slightest.”

Eyes like a robin’s egg cast a stare across the pond with a dismal yet meditative hum. It was one of the most tranquil sights Calsper got to admire day in and day out, his soul never tiring of the way the sunset’s pink hues wavered in the rippling water or of watching geese fly back down to its cold edge for bathing. Seeing a distant group of goslings close behind their new mother left him smiling at how opposite the tiny creatures were from the moose of a man to his left. “Maybe,” he shrugged, chest puffing from the hearty inhale he took of the campfire-laced air. “Wouldn’t know unless you tried. I agree that dancing on blades might be impossible unless a different shape could be figured out, but… you could at least stand on it. Slide around.”

Tirrak side-eyed Calsper with a snort. Seeing as the elf was finished for the time being, he began to put his miniature woodwork away into a belt bag and rise for the short trek back to their tipi. “In an outfit like yours?”

“What is wrong with my clothes?!” Arms spread in exasperation whilst staring down at himself. All he donned in this mountaintop atmosphere was a fitted black tee and thermal leggings of the same dark color—as well as, of course, his boots that the leggings were modified to loop around. But the tauren warrior could not reply.

Both men were startled into wide-eyed silence as a shriek pierced through the distance and in their direction of travel.

Calsper froze, paled so rapidly that his skin prickled with goosebumps, and forgot how to breathe.

Harpies? Harpies! Do they know…? No, that's impossible—count to five. Just five. You can do it, damn it. One.

Two.

They're here for me.

Three...

Not again. Was that his name being called?

...Four . . .

[foolsloss]

A NEW ORE!

ꔫ𓎟⠀Melly Plinius NPT's (Names, Pronouns, Titles)⠀𓎟ꔫ

N: Melly , Melanie , Marine , Moth , Mothy , Margie , Margret , Maple , Nelly , Nadia , Nate , Naomi , Nell , Neil

P: fern/ferns , fly/flys , aloe/loe , An/Angel , An/Ants , aeon/aeons , antler/antlers , cac/cactu , cri/cricket , cher/cherry , crys/crystal , ir/iris , fer/ferret , fawn/fawns , fai/fairy , fla/flare , flo/flower , flor/flora , flutter/flutters , fly/flys , 🌿/🌿's , 🍃/🍃's , 🪲/🪲's , ��/🐛's , 🦋/🦋's , 🐞/🐞's , 🐝/🐝's , 🕸/🕸's / , 🌾/🌾's , 🪴/🪴's

T: The Faceless [gender] , The Entomologist , [Prn] who is an Entomologist , The bug enjoyer , [Prn] who studies bugs , [Prn] who enjoys honey

ID's: TransEntomologist , TransBug , TransAnon , TransFaceless , TransDoll , TransButtonEyes , TransCotton , TransPlushFlux

[infcrnalstars]

have a body again, under air, under gravity

summary: autistic!grian dealing with the beginning of season nine after floating in the void for so long

notes: HI so i originally had this autistic grian series posted on my ao3 but i keep getting logged out of ao3 so i thought I'd just post it here for you all to enjoy. if you want the other fics in this series here's the link!

anyway, please enjoy and keep in mind this is all written from my perspective as an autistic person myself. thank you!!!

warning for minor scrian (hinted at only) and some self destructive behaviors.

Grian sat on top of The Entity. He buried his toes in the moss on top and grinned. After floating through the void for so long, it felt good to be grounded again.

Sure he was avian with those big, colorful wings, but he was still part human. And the human part of him really liked to have his feet safely planted on earth and not aimlessly floating.

The Entity came to him in a dream within the void. Perhaps he accidentally touched another sparkling universe, one of where other Entities existed. But regardless of how he came up with it, it was living breathing and all his.

“Grian!” Mumbo called out from behind him, near his vault.

Grian turned, pushing to his feet. Mumbo came rushing over and pulled something from his pocket. It was white, just a messy pile of dust in his hands. Grian’s heart stopped.

Waxing the copper had been a prank, he undid it after he was caught too. Now Mumbo was here with bone meal, prepared to ruin his creation.

“Mumbo,” Grian said, slowly moving forward, towards his friend. “Don't—”

Too late. His friend had already thrown the dust, causing the stone right under Grian to turn to moss. To his surprise, Grian slipped as the moss tore from the rock. He fell, landing hard on his back. His wings ached.

“Grian!” Mumbo called out in alarm. He hurried to his friends side. “Why didn't you fly? Oh your wings, are they okay?” he asked, fretting over Grian.

Grian shrugged. “My wings haven't worked right since the void. The gravity…it's almost too heavy. It's why I didn't build an actual base…it hurts.”

He sat up, giving his wings a small flutter. He yelped, his one wing being particularly painful.

He looked up at The Entity, feeling his own heart beat with the one pulsing inside. Something about being near it was comforting. But then, just as Mumbo had injured it, he too was injured.

“You ruined it,” Grian whispered, tears welling in his eyes.

“I’ll fix it later, right now you need medical attention on X can give you,” Mumbo said.

“You can't fix it,” he said, kicking away the moss near his feet. “It won't be the same.”

Grian pushed to his feet. The pain in his wing was almost unbearable with gravity weighing him down. Stubbornly he retreated to the interior of The Entity. He curled up in the center, under the beating heart, wings wrapped around him.

He was always so particular about his builds, but this one. It was so important that it was made exactly how he envisioned it. He knew it was silly to be upset about this but now it wasn't exactly how he wanted it.

He curled in on himself, shaking as adrenaline gave way to the pain. He bit down on his finger as the sun set on the world outside.

He was exhausted. He just needed to rest, he'd be okay in the morning.

“Grian?” a voice said softly.

He perked up. Gem. Gem was autistic and an unusual hybrid. She made him feel a lot less alone. He sat up as she entered The Entity.

“Mumbo told me what happened,” she said softly. “Would it be okay if I took a look at your wing?”

Grian hesitated but nodded. He turned his back to her, letting her have a look. He felt the deer hybrid gently feel along the frail bones, moving a few feathers aside to get a better look. He'd normally refuse to let people touch his wings, they were sensitive and required great care, but he trusted Gem.

She had antlers that needed to be taken care of, ears that needed proper cleaning. She had a tail that was just as sensitive as his wings. She knew what she was doing.

Normally Scar would help him with his wings. The third and final person allowed near his wings was X. X didn't know where Grian came from, why he was a hybrid, but he ran the server, he could understand in ways Grian couldn't in matters of his wings.

“Just a little fracture, I think,” Gem said. “I think a healing potion will fix it.”

She moved so she was facing him. She was quick to mimic him, sitting criss cross apple sauce.

“Mumbo said you were really upset about him adding moss to your base?” Gem asked quietly, pulling a fidget toy out of her pocket for him.

He happily took it, playing with the various buttons on the cube. “He ruined it. I know it's just some moss, but I don't know…It's just different. I'm not mad at him, but there’s something about The Entity. I feel connected to it.”

She nodded along.

“We travelled through the void you know. There are so many other worlds out there, we passed by all of them. There was one that I saw. It felt so familiar. It had all sorts of creatures but at the heart of the whole planet was something like The Entity,” Grian whispered. “I dunno if it's where I'm from or what, but it's important to me.”

Gem nodded with more understanding this time. “It's just super special to you.”

Grian nodded this time. “So important.”

“Well, I think you ought to explain that to Mumbo.”

“Okay,” Grian said softly.

“Now, how about we head back to my base and we get you that healing potion?” she asked.

Grian’s good wing fluttered in anticipation. “Sure.”

Together they walked along the stone bridges ro Gem's treehouse. He sat by the water while she hurried in to get it for him.

He heard wings flapping overhead but before he could even look, Pearl was landing next to him. He jumped, but the motion made his wings ache more.

“Pearl, you scared me.”

“You're hurt,” Pearl said automatically. She moved behind him to look at his colorful wings.

She had her own wings, but they were so different from his own. Hers were shades of brown and they curved in a way he didn't but still. She was the only avian he’d ever met.

She didn't touch, she knew better. She moved to sit down beside him, wings tucked in.

“You'll hurt your wings if you keep sleeping in the Entity. You need a real house with a real bed,” she said quietly. “Don't go telling me you're fine, we both know sleeping on a stoney floor does a number on the wings.”

Grian kicked at the pebbles along the shoreline. She was right. She usually was.

“I can't fly,” he admits to her. “It's too heavy now.”

“I was in the void too. I can fly just fine. Gravity isn't the issue. You're sleeping in a hollowed out boulder! I mean, come on—”

“Pearl,” Gem says kindly, coming to sit on the other side of Grian. She gave him more space than Pearl did. “Can you talk about this later? I called you to comfort him, as his sister.”

“She's not really my sister,” Grian said, just as Pearl said, “I'm being very sisterly right now.”

Gem shook her head, handing Grian the potion. She got up to set the wing, her hands gentle her firm. He drank the potion and felt a familiar tingle throughout the wing.

“You've got a bit of moss back here…When was the last time you cleaned your wings?” Gem asks.

“Dunno.”

“May I?”

Grian nods. He closes his eyes and stretches his legs out so his toes dip into the cool water. It feels nice.

He hears Pearl leave and he's sure they'll have a whole conversation later, but right now he focused on the relaxing sensation of Gem’s fingers sorting through his feathers.

“Are stoney floors really that bad for wings?” Gem asked.

“Only if you sleep on your back. You end up crushing them and then you get these weird cramps—”

“Like sleeping on your neck weird?” she asks.

“A bit like that, yeah.”

“So then…Why sleep like that?”

“I like the pressure,” he shrugged.

She reached a spot he knew was a mess. Feathers unaligned and ruffled from sleeping on the floor. His wings fluttered away from her gentle hands.

The spot was painful, but it did need to be dealt with.

“Grian,” Gem reprimanded gently.

He sighed, pulling out his communicator. He distracted himself by messaging Scar while Gem finished her hard work.

Grian: Hey Scar, what are you up to?

Scar: I'm working at my base.

Scar: What's up, G?

Grian: Can I stop by in 5?

Gem plucked a loose feather and he yelped.

“Sorry!” she says with a deep frown.

“I haven't cleaned them since we got here;” he admits. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It's always my pleasure.”

His communicator beeps in his hand.

Scar: Your always welcome.

Grian smiled, tucking the device away. He turned to see Gem peering over his shoulder.

“How are you and Scar?” she asked.

“How are we?” he repeats, a bit confused.

Gem shakes her head. “I've got to get back to work, are you going to be okay?”

He nodded. “I'm heading over to Scar’s. I'll be fine.”

Gem smiled, giving his shoulder a squeeze before disappearing back into her treehouse.

Grian got up, starting to flutter his wings to fly, but even moving them like that felt uncomfortable. It felt like they were weighing him down.

He tucked them in close to his back instead and walked across the bridges that had been constructed over the small rivers and canals. He headed towards Scar’s impossibly large treehouse that he built entirely by hand.

It was absolutely breathtaking.

Just being here was soothing.

He hurried up into the tree and found Scar working on the upper levels. He had a workbench set up at just the right height for him in his wheelchair.

He was hammering something together, a half constructed bed on the floor next to him.

“Scar,” Grian said.

Scar jumped a little. “I didn't hear you come in,” he laughs.

Grian just smiled. “I'm light on my feet. What are you making?”

“I'm trying something new for my bed. I think it'll turn out super cool,” Scar said. “Anyway, what's up?”

“Just had a rough afternoon, Thought it could be better by seeing my best friend,” he said, watching Scar’s face light up.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Scar asked, setting his hammer down.

Grian sat himself down on top of the work bench, pulling his knees up to his chest. He sighed and explained what had transpired to upset him so much.

Scar listened. He was a great listener, especially for Grian.

“Ah, that's why Mumbo stopped by earlier,” Scar said, returning to his tinkering. “He feels really bad.”

“He stopped by?” Grian asked.

Scar nods, not looking up this time. “Yeah, something about an apology gift to make you feel better. I suggested a new blanket so you can make a little nest for yourself. Like you did last season in your starter base.”

Grian smiled a little bit. That would fix his sleeping on the floor problem, and it was a sweet thought. His felt warm and tingly - happy. He was happy.

“Thanks, Scar,” he said quietly.

“I also heard a rumor that your wings have been bothering you,” Scar continued on, venturing deeper into his workshop. He returned holding a strange contraption in his lap. “I might have to adjust the size, but think of it like my wheelchair. It's just an aid to help you out. Hypothetically, it should help create a draft and take the pressure off your wings so there's less strain.”

Grian took the device into his hands. It reminded him of the elytra everyone used to fly around. He

looked up at Scar and down at the device, setting it aside carefully. He pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, G.”

[horsebeast]

antlered flutter fly, Toxonevra superba, and bronze jumping spider, Eris militaris

[the-angry-dyke]

Antlered flutter fly (Toxonevra superba), something of a rare find apparently! He was kind enough to let me take pictures of him cleaning his wings and legs on the way out of the laundromat

[leapdayowo]

[title pending] character exploration

      I started to suffocate in the pungent wall of smells that was every forest in the world combined into this one small clearing. My nose itched at the thick musk of strong trees and the sweet tang of dense canopies and wild moss. Around me the tall grass began twisting like snakes as animals emerged from their writhing sea and surrounding woods. Birds, deer, big cats, and bears. Insects crawled and leaped. Their sharp little legs pricked my skin and I bent into myself, shielding my face, in an attempt to get away.  Rustling

Buzzing

Pricking

Sniffing

Steps

Closer and closer-

     And then everything went still, except for my racing heart, which became deafening in the silence. I peeked around from where I had curled into myself at the strange display of grass blades reaching toward me and the animals’ stares. Despite the blaring sun above, I felt myself turn cold. Something inside of me whispered that I needed to respond, that I had entered a conversation of some sorts. The plants and creatures were waiting. Waiting on me.

     I squeaked out a shy greeting. In response, a deer stomped its back leg and flicked its ear, displacing a bird which had been resting on its antlers. The bird fluttered down to the ground right before me. It was slim with green tipped wings and a white band around its neck. Its dark eyes observed me with more weight and intelligence than expected from such a small creature. It hopped closer to me and seemed to be sizing me up. Slowly, I reached my hand down to its level, which it flapped onto without hesitation. Before I could more my hand again, the little bird pecked at the flesh of my palm. On reflex, my hand jerked away from the bird which startled it off its perched. With a quiet apology, I placed my hand back down. This conversation had just begun and I worried I had already ruined it.

     Instead of flying off, the little bird flapped onto my shoulder. Distracted by my worries of what the bird might do next, I failed to realize that some of the animals had closed in around me. The buck the little bird had been perched on gave me a curious sniff which startled me. It poked its nose through my hair and began nibbling at a few strands. A strange and fat creature waddled up to me. It had short and sleek fur and wide webbed hands that padded at my pants and stomach. More and more of the animals came to observe me. As they did, the grass seemed to follow my every move like I was the sun. The little bird meanwhile had settled on my shoulder and some of the animals took that as their cue to lay down and rest. A big cat playfully plopped down in front of me onto its back, its tail flicking and its eyes expectant. Against my better judgement, because I knew what sharp claws lay sheathed in those soft paws, I sat more comfortably on the ground and reached my hand to pet its stomach. It gave a strange rumbling noise in return, but it did not bite, so I continued to pet it.

     It took me a little longer to realize that the suffocating smell and pressure of the forest had waned. My lungs took in easy breaths and I sighed with relief. Whatever test had just happened, it seemed I had passed. My heart had slowed to a steadier pace and I was reminded of the aches in my arms from crawling all morning. I laid down next to the big cat, letting the little bird adjust its perch to somewhere in my tangled hair, and basked in the warmth of the light as I drifted to sleep.

[fumingdragon278]

Makeing a story on chat gtp. Just curious alright?

(Lamassus are giant Guardian beings from the Mesopotamian times.) Warning: Cristianity and otherwroldly stuff.

Title: The Lamassu Who Forgot to Hide

In the days when gods were still carved into stone and etched in gold, she stood at the gates of Uruk—a towering, radiant protector with the body of a feline titan, wings like sun-touched feathers, and antlers crowned with time itself. Her fur shimmered green like fertile valleys, and great pink spots dotted her flanks like blessings from forgotten stars.

She was called Ninsidra, a Lamassu. A guardian. A gatekeeper. A god.

But gods fade.

And when the last Mesopotamian temple crumbled, when her name was no longer sung in ritual or remembered in myth, the other gods ascended to their new realms—concepts made divine, ideals wrapped in modern robes. War had a hundred gods now. Love, even more.

But Ninsidra? She had no domain. Protection? No one asked for that from statues anymore. And so, she remained. Earthbound. Unclaimed. Unremembered.

She didn’t rage. She didn’t despair. She got... curious.

Centuries passed. Empires rose, fell, rebranded. She wandered through civilizations until she eventually learned the strange dance of human society: wear shoes, pay rent, microwave things.

Now, in the age of Wi-Fi and weird snacks, she had found something new to guard—not a temple, not a king, but a silly little channel on Thoutube.

She called it PinkSpottedGuardian, where she posted hand-animated videos—sometimes myths retold with her own wry commentary, sometimes cozy little shorts of weird magical creatures going grocery shopping. It was weird, artsy, a bit uncanny. She loved it. Her few thousand subscribers loved her cryptic humor and her oddly ancient-sounding voice.

But this morning, something had shifted in her.

She woke up in her tiny studio apartment, half-covered in a tangle of sketch paper and ramen cups, stretched her arms and cracked her knuckles. Then she paused, golden eyes narrowing at the ceiling.

"...Why am I hiding again?"

There wasn’t a good answer.

She didn’t need to. She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t even bound anymore.

She stepped off the bed, and with a ripple of forgotten syllables and divine breath, she shed her human disguise.

Her true form filled the small room—walls bulged outward in protest, ceiling tiles cracked, the floor bent under her. Glowing green fur puffed out, wings preened themselves sleepily, and her pink spots flickered with sleepy mischief. She yawned like a lion in the sun, then licked her paw with her forked tongue and began grooming, tail flicking like a bored housecat.

She slipped through the apartment wall with the grace of something that used to phase through temples, and casually padded down the fire escape, wings tucked in tight. People on the street screamed, pointed, ran, recorded. Some just froze, watching the impossible stroll past a taco truck.

She strutted, tail high, utterly unbothered.

A police drone buzzed near her antlers. She swatted it like a fly and batted it into a parked car, then immediately became distracted by a fluttering pigeon and gave it chase.

She pounced.

Missed.

Landed on a hot dog cart and sniffed the mustard with regal suspicion.

Children loved her. Adults panicked. News feeds exploded.

When asked—by a brave podcaster livestreaming with shaking hands—who she was, Ninsidra simply curled around a park bench and said, “I was a Guardian once. Now I’m mostly an artist. Sometimes a napper. Always divine.”

She gave the podcaster a slow blink. The internet melted.

By evening, she was curled up in the sunniest spot in Central Park, watching squirrels with a flicking tail, surrounded by a semi-circle of gawking tourists and reverent weirdos offering her cans of tuna, incense, and one very confused corgi.

She liked it. Earth was still chaotic, messy, ungodly. But now, at least, it remembered her.

And maybe that was enough.

Besides—she had a new animation to post tomorrow. It was called “How to Clean Your Wings: A Guide for Divine Creatures and Also Cats.”

She’d been working on it for years.

Part one. Ended.

[bl0ndeamerican0]

ECHO POINT

By: Me

Two lovers stand by the edge of Echo Point, a deep chasm below. They lean on the wire fence, holding hands. Their sunglasses clink together as they try to kiss, and so they laugh. I stand on the other end, shrouded in shadows, on all fours. My antlers are ready to be shed, so I try to use the trunk of a birch tree. After many tries with no avail, I turn back and the lovers are still there, still leaning, still talking, still kissing. Minutes of stillness pass, and one of the lovers turns to the other, and kneels.

A shriek– 

One of excitement. It fills the chasm of Echo Point. Bouncing off the craggy walls, distorting the sound the deeper it travels. The water below is still, but the wind now rustles the trees with joy. Flocks of birds fly off, scared by the fluttering of their homes. However, I stand still. Nowhere to go, I decided to lay on the ground, the shade of the trees keeping me comfortable. From the other end I hear sounds of crying, sounds of love, and promise. They stood there all alone, with no one to witness this beautiful moment, except me. After a few more minutes, The lovers left in their red car, and I galloped away. My antlers, still ready to be shed.

This was something I had to write for a Creative Writing Class I'm in. We were challenged to look at a post card given to us and write a story in under 250 words. I Hope You Enjoy!

[popthirdworld]

Chapter 12 - Frosty

This is a Christmas story told in 25 parts – with one chapter released each day of December ‘til Christmas. Enjoy!

“Don’t be frightened, they’re friendly”, Lolly said.

At first, Keya thought that the elf was assuring her and George. Lolly was, in fact, talking to the fairies. The tiny winged beings flittered around the children, looking at them curiously.

A few fairies were drawn to Keya’s knee that had been badly scraped when falling into the crater. Keya stood still as they inspected the wound. After what seemed like careful consideration, the fairies moved aside the bandages Lolly had wrapped around her knee and laid their tiny ice-cold hands on the injury. To her astonishment, Keya’s pain soon vanished and the gash closed up.

“Fairies are healers”, Lolly explained. “They nurture everything in the forest to help it grow. They also use materials here to concoct the most amazing magics and medicines.”

George realised that it was these fairies who must have made the dust that enabled the horse to fly. He wanted to keep his eyes on Lolly’s lips to understand more about the fairies, but it was hard to look away from the incredible beings themselves. They now seemed very comfortable with him. George had fairies feeling his face, examining his ears and lounging in the hair on his head.

“No offence, but if they’re so good at healing the forest”, Keya inquired, “why is everything dead?”

Lolly looked around, unnerved. She did not know the answer.

“Um, hi”, George said politely to the fairies all over him. “Have you seen Santa Claus?”

“He’s shrunken down?” Keya added. “In a ball?”

The fairies seemingly answered with a soft humming sound similar to that released from Lolly’s piccolo. All of a sudden, the tall creature who had stolen the globe appeared beside the tree. She apparently had been standing there the whole time, invisible. A dozen other creatures then emerged from their hiding spot in thin air as well, roused by the fairies’ sweet humming. 

These giant creatures all had thick white fur and green eyes like the one holding the globe. While they looked as though they belonged to the same family, they each had different body types, faces and features. Some were round and squat, like gorillas, others were leaner, like gibbons. A few even had horns and antlers sprouting from their heads. None were as tall as the creature with the globe, yet they were all much larger, and standing more upright, than regular apes. George and Keya had never seen anything like them.

“L … Lolly?” Keya stammered, not as instantly enchanted to be surrounded by these creatures as she was the fairies. “What … who … what are these?”

“I can’t remember what humans call them”, Lolly replied. “Yetis? Bigfoots? Bigfeet? They like cold temperatures and to be left alone.”

The tall, lanky one looked down at the glowing ball in her hands and, after a moment’s pause, offered it back to George.

“Thanks”, he said, relieved to see Santa again.

A fairy glowing with purple light fluttered over to the globe in George’s hand. She seemed to be able to hear Santa through the glass and the two of them had a conversation of sorts to which George, Keya and Lolly were not privy. 

After the purple fairy had finished humming, Santa turned to George to relay what she had told him. He looked distressed.

“As I thought, Sable is behind this”, Santa explained. “She vanquished Frosty and the forest perished without him.”

Before George could repeat this to Lolly and Keya, he had to ask one important question.

“Huh?”

“Frosty is a yeti as well”, Santa answered, “but far more ancient, far more magical, and much, much larger than his kin. He is essentially the heart of this forest. Frosty exudes the cold and would roam these woods to create its ice and snow. He is the winter. Without him, the forest is out of balance. There is only so much that the fairies can do to keep it alive. And this forest’s destruction has ramifications far beyond this place.”

“Wait”, George said, thinking back to their snowy Christmas at the shelter. “Is that what’s made Australia weirdly cold?”

“Among other places”, Santa responded. “Everything in nature is linked. With Frosty gone, the weather throughout the world is warped.”

“That horrible witch!” Lolly snapped, once George had relayed this information.

“Sable’s not a witch”, George corrected her. “She’s a siphon.”

“What’s a siphon?” Keya asked.

“Santa says it’s someone who has no special powers of their own”, George replied, “other than the magical ability to extract power from others.”

“So, she just takes, takes, takes”, Lolly grumbled. “That sounds right.”

“Her strength, her ability to do spells and make portals, all of it she nabbed from actual witches, as well as sprites, goblins, centaurs and more”, George said. “This is why she targeted Frosty. Sable had stolen too much power. She needed somewhere to store it. She learned that Frosty’ antlers would do the trick. But to get them she …”

George trailed off. 

“She what?” Lolly said.

“She killed him”, the boy replied reluctantly.

Lolly’s hand went to her heart. The elf thought back to the torn down trees and erratic footprints that they had passed. That must have been the site of Frosty’ and Sable’s struggle.

“They fought. He fell. And his body made this crater”, George continued. “From a distance, the fairies saw his body decay into snow as soon as Sable cut off his antlers. She then magically twisted them into a tiny jewel.”

“The one on her necklace”, Lolly said, putting the pieces together.

“She’s basically using it like a fridge to keep her powers on ice,” George confirmed.

Lolly’s eyes dropped to the snow under their feet. The elf shivered, not from the cold, but the haunting knowledge that she stood on the remains of the beloved winter beast, the forest’s heart. She then looked up and saw the mournful expression on the fairies’ and yetis’ faces. This great figure in their life was gone. Everybody looked solemn - except Keya, who did not read the room.

“So he’s dead?!” she cried.

“Keya …” George began, very aware of how she was unsettling the Winter Forest inhabitants.

 “We came all this way …”

“Keya …”

“… and he’s dead?!”

“Mate”, George stated firmly, grabbing Keya’s attention as only a sharply said “mate” can do to an Australian. He had been in Australia just long enough to learn that one.

The boy motioned to the gloomy faces of everyone surrounding them. Keya realised that she was being insensitive and begrudgingly went quiet, keeping her anxiety and outrage to herself.

Lolly crouched down and gently touched the snow. 

“There’s just one thing I don’t understand”, the elf said. “I get that Sable wanted the antlers to store her stolen powers. But, why did she want our Workshop?”

[quod-ludeo-sum-ego]

Oh fuck yes

Was meditating in the woods this morning and a bug comes up to me doing this elaborate mating dance. Women can’t do anything 😔🙄

[froggin777]

I really want one day for someone to draw me how I see myself. Like not how I look like but fully see myself in my minds eye. I’ve come to accept my body for how it is but there is some aspects that I can never see in real life.

For instance, I have huge antlers of a deer, white bat wings that are torn and can’t hold weight (can’t fly) but flutter in the wind, sharp canine teeth, pointy ears, and a large prominent nose. A few of these I could change with body mods but I could never really have wings and antlers.

It would just be really nice to have a drawing of me with all of those aspects. Though I do love every drawing of me that anyone does it would just be nice to see.

[femfaetarot]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

let me saturate your mind with the message of spirit. let the cards communicate an experience deeper than word of mouth, something you feel, and not hear. something you understand, better than you can force. take a second, breathe, and ask that what you perceive is unwavering. look for the hidden messages tucked between the lines where spirit wishes you to explore, deeper.

everything you hear has meaning, and value. allow yourself to find that meaning, to you, and value it, for it is just for you. It is a gift. say thank you, and find something to be grateful for today. spirituality, and not materially.

feedback is most appreciated

You may be feeling overwhelmed, scared, or even challenged by something in your path. It feels too big to bare. Too strong. Too sturdy of a challenge. Call to the Elk, find these dark pieces of yourself, and release. Know that the problems you perceive are only as bad as you make them to be in your mind. There is a bright side, no matter how faint, there will always be a ray of light.

You are mighty my love, as an Elk. Bare your antlers and understand that there is a gentleness to your little doe eyes. Find the balance. Call to the spirit of Elk.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨

The Eel and The Iris; safety XLII (reversed). Eels are furtive creatures, often burying themselves in murky depths. The idiom “slippery as an eel” refers to eel’s ability to escape from harm.

The Butterfly and The Snowdrop; Hope XLVI. Two symbols of spring, remind us that winter will soon end, and hope is on the horizon. Butterflies develops through metamorphosis, transforming from a and egg into a larva, then becoming a pupa or chrysalis, and finally, hatching into an adult. The egg stage is so humble, and the full-grown butterfly so astounding, the process can feel like magic.

Your insect is butterfly. What do you need in order to feel safe? A period of hardship is coming to a close l, and better days are ahead. Take hear in signs of the coming thaw.

I have miraculously pulled two cards for you, pile 2. Here I see that the butterfly is of extreme importance here. A period of transformation. The Eel is you, and the butterfly is the insect that will guide you.

Some situation has violated you, and has made you recluse into yourself. I see a woman, caressing gently a beautiful blue butterfly. Blue may be of significance. It does not speak, but the fluttering of its wings communicates safety. “Have hope” it says “allow me to guide you through with light and warmth.”

Change can be a beautiful thing. This sudden reclusion can be given beautiful purpose. Take this time and find love within everything that surrounds you. Engulf yourself in people, places, and things that support you. Find trust in your heart that all is well. Understand wounds will scab before they scar. Resist the urge to pick. They will scar, and then they will heal. There is peace in silence and self-acceptance. Accept this situation has violated you, and cause pain to the soul within you. Fall in love with the process, for it is the now.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

The Quail and Gooseberry; anticipation LI. The Quail anticipates danger by hiding among low-growing vegetation. From its obscured perch, it keeps careful watch, monitoring for predators.

Your animal is Quail. How can you balance vigilance with a healthy openness to risk? There has been a thought plaguing your mind. Wether in the back of your head, or persistent like a fruit fly, it is there. An outcome you have expected is to come true. The Quail asks you to release yourself to what you know to be true. Surrender to the knowledge and prepare for the outcome in which you see clearly in your minds eye. Do not jump to conclusions, fore it may be the conclusion to a story you did not know was playing as prevalent a role in your journey as you’d imagined.

All the while, it is there

Do not, however, allow this forewarning to become the plague in which infests your mind. There is no good or bad, only what you chose to do.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

The Eel and The Iris; safety XLII (reversed). Eels are furtive creatures, often burying themselves in murky depths. The idiom “slippery as an eel” refers to eel’s ability to escape from harm.

The Vulture and Asphodel; upheaval XIV. The vulture and indicates an upheaval regard mourning, grief, and regret. The vulture is often associated with death, and in many ways this is relevant: the harsh wounds caused by one can lead to the death of a connection, time, or love shared — but Vultures also play an important role in our ecosystem. Their consumption of Carrion prevents the spread of disease.

Your animals are Vulture and Eel. These two animals wish to bare you love and guidance. A situation has caused grief and heartache for you, dear star. A death, of any kind, is painful. A trauma has occurred recently that has left you wounded. I see someone has hurt you.

Fear not, my beautiful angels, for I have a message. Take care of yourself. It is okay to grieve, mourn, and feel violated. It is okay to just feel, and the vulture asks you to do just that. Grieve, and cleanse your wounds so you may stop this spread of disease. This cycle of hurt.

The Eel asks you to set healthy boundaries. This, although painful, is the chance of immense enlightenment. Wether or not others are accepting of the lines you draw in the sand, the Eel asks you to stand firm in yourself and keep persistent for what you know to be best for you. The Eel and Vulture stand with you, and support you in your healing.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

The Frog and The Lotus; metamorphosis VI. This card reminds us that change is natural, rebirth is possible, and a healing balance can be achieved. The frog, developing as it does from a tiny tadpole, symbolizes transformation.

The Raccoon and Sycamore; curiosity XXXIII. The Raccoon calls us to explore a thrilling new interest, idea, or opportunity. Raccoons are intelligent creatures, dexterous, and eager. Often likened to bandits due to the mask-like markings around their eyes, they are quite loveable rascals — rarely seeking to cause harm.

Your animals are Raccoon and Frog. The message most clear is that something is ready to die. The auspicious spirit of Raccoon gives you the courage to try the little things you’ve always wanted. Explore, and discover new parts of yourself within these new hobbies you never knew existed.

The frog considers the things that need changing. What can I get rid of for the betterment of my personal change? Old clothes, habits, thoughts, and books? Toss it all out and embrace the new you. You are a butterfly.

What new hobbies or interests do you want to explore, little butterfly?

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐱

channeled song — “ moment ” by Victoria Monét

The Ladybug and Sweet Pea; Happiness XXXV. Symbols of good luck and fortune, ladybugs are wonderful insects known to keep garden pets like aphids at bay.

Your insect is LadyBug. The LadyBug wishes to bare you the news of happiness, positivity, and good luck. A great deal of fulfillment from life is on your way, and the LadyBug asks you to share the contentment from which will come into your heart during this time with others.

Do not simply give — there must be balance — but know you are blessed, and there is to be no fear of lack. You are abundant my little star! So shine! And scream from the high heavens in which the love in your heart demands.

It is also coming through that you resemble a lady bug. I’m seeing large eyes. Perhaps some significance in the face here somewhere…you are beautiful. Others view you that way.