#cryptid time

[sapphicseasapphire]

My most recent project! I have SO many thoughts about this au, so stay tuned because I will definitely be making more content for this! Do you have a favorite?

#my art #fanart #the legend of zelda #chain as cryptids au #I FINISHED IT #SO many thoughts #cryptid hyrule #cryptid warriors #cryptid wind #cryptid wild #cryptid four #cryptid legend #cryptid sky #cryptid twilight #cryptid time #links meet au

[amannartblog]

I figured I’d upload more of a design-y kinda drawing. This is Sam Wolf, and yeah he’s a Werewolf.

Honestly still learning how to draw wolves, but I think he looks ok!

#oc artwork #werewolves #Cryptid Time #Sam Wolf #Yea believe it or not I am Still working on a Cryptid Comic #I did overhaul everything I wrote #and add more new guys #He probably has an in-between form but I just haven’t drawn it yet #Wolves are hard to draw

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

guy who's stuck in a timeloop for so long he stops wanting to leave it. guy who started out trying to escape but slowly grew used to and became comforted by the familiarity of the repeating day. guy who is no longer who he was before the timeloop. guy who is offered a way out and violently refuses it because he can't leave, doesn't want to leave. guy who escapes the timeloop by chance or force or accident and doesn't know how to live anymore. guy who keeps going through motions that don't match the situation and keeps having conversations that aren't actually occurring. guy who panics every time he realizes he can't predict the next instant. guy who left the timeloop but still lives with it.

#the cryptid speaks #time loop #ik there's been talk of the trope '[x] never left the timeloop' but what about [x] who never Wanted to leave the timeloop #like astronauts who come back to earth and keep trying to let go of things midair #former timelooper who is still expecting to know your next sentence; to predict the next major event; to survive everything

[pleasureribs]

Oops! All Fresno Nightcrawlers™️

#do you think they are crunchy #my art #i saw a photo of these guys earlier today for the first time in months and i knew what i had to do #fresno nightcrawler #fresno nightcrawlers #fresno nightwalker #fresno nightwalkers #cryptid #cryptids

[archive-rat]

open The Gateway…

#love me some cryptid Gem #You go girl! Leas them to their deaths! #anyway #I’ve been drawing this for so long I can see every molecule and I have to stop #so you guys get to have it #tag time! #art #digital art #trafficblr #mcyt #life series #traffic smp fanart #my art #secret life #secret life fanart #mcytblr #geminitay #geminitay fanart #sl!gem

[melit0n]

Some cryptid photos of Vessel (+ ii) that I've collected over the past week. The fact that almost all of them look like they came out of trail cam footage is absolutely sending me

#add a grainy overlay and the date and time text from an old camcorder and I think I could convince someone it *is* trail cam footage #the fact that this odd pose where he's got his arms out with his fingers spread is a common part of his dance routine makes me giggle a lot #like you go you funky music man #there are so many photos of ii out there where he legitimately just looks like he's either edited into the photo or -> #an actual creature of the night as well #this is just my favourite because he looks so insanely out of place #if anybody has an editions feel free to add! I'd love to get a good giggle out of some more crypid photos #sleep token #st #vessel #vessel sleep token #ii sleep token #mel's rambles #cryptid token #1k

[decibly]

Barry was hungry. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, as he could just grab some snacks from the kitchen, but he was watching a movie, and he was comfy. He really, really didn’t want to try and wriggle back to where he was now

“Phantom?” he called out hopefully.

A white glove emerged from the wall behind him, dropping an unopened bag of chips on top of his head. When Barry reached up to grab it, he saw that it was salt and vinegar, which explained why it was still uneaten. Phantom seemed to refuse those chips under all circumstances.

Barry didn’t really get it, because salt and vinegar was awesome, but that didn’t really matter. The point was, Phantom was a great person, even if he probably wasn’t human, and it didn’t matter if Barry hadn’t ever actually seen more of him than his arm, and he had told Barry his name by leaving a piece of paper on a table when he turned his back for three seconds after asking if there was a name for the ‘friend in the walls’, as Wally had called him.

“Thanks, Phantom!” The hand stuck itself out the wall again, forming a thumbs up.

***** ***** *****

Diana had found a bit of a problem. It wasn’t a big one, and was honestly more of an annoyance than anything, but her paper copy of Earth’s current standing with all known alien civilization was missing. She could get access to it again in a few hours, once the security upgrade to their computers was finished, but she had been intending to review it for a few weeks now and could use the extra time. 

An idea came to her suddenly, and Diana quietly asked, “Phantom? Are you here?” In answer, a chilly breeze blew through her hair. He was, then. “By any chance, would you happen to have seen my copy of th-” Interrupting her, the very papers she was looking for appeared out of nowhere on her desk. A green sticky note was stuck to it, reading ‘This? Sorry for taking it, but it was really interesting’

Diana smiled, hopefully in the ghosts direction. “Yes, that. If you want, I could see if I could get you your own copy?” Another green sticky note appeared on top of the first, this one just oozing the feeling of happiness. ‘YES PLEASE!!!’

***** ***** *****

Bruce… didn’t really know what to do about the teenager floating just outside the Watchtower. He looked like Phantom, from the few times anyone had actually seen the ghost, and he appeared to be enjoying himself in the vacuum outside instead of dying painfully, which was another point of evidence for that theory. Unsure of what else he could do, he knocked on the window on the off chance that he could get Phantom’s attention that way.

The ghost immediately vanished from view, and a strong, freezing cold breze blew in from the direction of the window Phantom had been outside. Bruce shivered violently from the unexpected chill.

Next time he would leave Phantom alone. Being out in space seemed to make him happy, and it was best not ruin that.

#dannymay #dannymay2023 #cryptid au #danny phantom #danny fenton #barry allen #diana prince #bruce wayne #the flash #wonder woman #batman #justice league #dc x dp #danny doesn't want to cause trouble #no sir #he just wants to have some fun #make some friends #and hide in everyones walls #and over time everyone just accepts that this is how life is #that now they just have a dead teen living in their walls #all danny has to say is that this is the best bet hes ever lost to tucker #who cares about how many marshmallows he can eat while fighting the box ghost #because he lost tucker dared him to stalk the justice league #and now hes in space!

[spellboundcities]

The siren makes a huge noise; the real world is drifting

#i think i hauve covid #local cryptid draws #marble hornets #marble hornets fanart #marble hornets spoilers #alex kralie #mh alex #jay merrick #mh jay #jaylex #you dont even gotta squint for this one just look #i havent painted anything in a long time. I was shrimp mode for like six hours #has anyone done this yet? i feel like they should have #blood #guns #gun #injury #opaline yellowjackets

[puppetmaster13u]

 Danny and his haunt are more than a little distressed to find out that Pariah Dark can’t be destroyed and can only be sealed away due to being the Ancient of Darkness. Danny is worried about someone trying to wake him up again, while his friends are more worried about the ghost going after the newborn Ancient of Space again. 

 They scour libraries, search high and low in both the Ghost Zone and the living world for a solution before finally just asking Clockwork. 

 And well, they feel like just a bit of idiots but also elated. 

 Because if Danny can become the new embodiment of space, then what’s to stop them from giving the power of darkness to someone else that’s not Pariah Dark? 

 They make a list of requirements, ask both ghosts and living friends. There’s nothing in their world, no one quite right, but what about other worlds? The realms are supposedly infinite right? So there had to be someone out there. 

 And while it takes a long, long time, they eventually find one when a small bloodied ghost of greens, golds, and reds comes forth shyly, eyes burning with determination. He speaks of heroes and villains- far more than their own world- of a city cloaked in shadow and of a single man trying to help despite it seeming impossible. 

 Who better to become the new Dark besides the dark knight himself after all? 

#Batman Becomes The New Ancient of Darkness Au #Look he's died or nearly done so enough times to be counted liminal at the *least* #yes the ghost is lil Jason shh #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #danny phantom #batman #dc #dcu #danny fenton #cryptid batman #prompts #ghost jason todd #jason todd #honestly up to the writer on if he stays dead or not #bruce wayne #imagine waking up one day to a green sticky note with multiple writing styles saying ur slated to become the literal embodiment of the dark #so don't be afraid when you get some abilities or something #oh btw here's out number :) #Bruce: #Bruce: ALFREEEED

[ghosted-jazz]

A supermoon occurs when the full moon coincides with the moon's closest approach to Earth in its orbit. Supermoons make the moon appear a little brighter and bigger than normal

#BigB and Pearl duo? You mean Hermitcraft season 8- *gets shot #limited life smp #bigbst4tz2 #pearlescentmoon #traffic smp spoilers #yes the caption is just me going 'hehehehe MOON BIG DUO' but like- astrology #I spent half my time drawing and the other half researching- Other contenders were Cparicon (goat constellation) Moon cookies/milky way #but like- manifesting BigB winning and I'm assigning him earth. I hc him as a cherub and those have ties with nature and stuff #POV you just respawned and made eye contact with your cryptid ass neighbours doing god knows what during the witching hour #my art

[hauntingjasper]

A Jackalope girl and her cat... thing

#She feels kinda lonely #I am totally making this an AU.. just for funsies #Still thinking of a name bc at first I wanted to make everyone cryptids but then i went to the other direction #Now only Fionna and Marshall are actually inspired by cryptids #The others are just.. idk I'll have to draw it anyway #fionna and cake #adventure time fionna and cake #fionna and cake fanart #adventure time fionna #fionna campbell #fionna the human #adventure time fanart #adventure time #fionna and cake au #fionna and cake adventure time

[sapphicseasapphire]

“Psh, he’s just. Afraid of me. I guess.” Time says, as if he is not deathly terrified of Sky.

New comic??? Twilight and Four feature??? Twilight confronting Time??? Four being protective of Sky??? TIME AND SKY MY BELOVED????

I’m doing a bit of experimenting with paneling/drawing in general. Hoping to get more efficient so I can get more comics out! But please be patient with me (I’ll cry).

As always! If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask! I love rambling about my silly little Cryptids.

#the legend of zelda #chain as cryptids au #my art #fanart #my comic #comic #CAC art #PLOT??? There’s finally PLOT??? #I spent so long on this #Sky and Time just mean a lot to me okay #cryptid sky #cryptid four #cryptid time #cryptid twilight #links meet au

[themeeplord]

Someone is in the doorway.

Will you let them in?

Got some horrors for you @naffeclipse

#I’ve been too nice giving all of you only cuddles for a while. It’s time to change that. They are a demon after all. AND this is fnaf! XD #This is actually a little old now. It’s about a week old I believe. I didn’t find a good time to post it #I still don’t know if this is a good time but I really wanna share it now! #sorry for the nightmares #tw horror #cw horror #fnaf sb #cryptid au #cryptid sightings #cryptid!sun #cryptid!moon #art #my art #themeeplord

[m340700]

@crazybookcat HAPPY (LATE) HALLOWEEN!!!! I was your secret skeleton >:)

I am SO so sorry this is so late argH. i had a few mishaps and busy schedules along the way but alas here it is!! hope you like it

another version:

a silly because you have buff dcas listed down:

#DCAH2023 #fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf moon #ramble time this was originally going to be ur other sona w cryptid eclipse but time limits >:( so its the silly w sj eclipse bc #it Would Be Funny if he was buff #ur sona is so pretty actually >:0 #also u were my secret santa i knew ur name sounded familiar #im ur secret skeleton now >:D #how the turns have tabled

[cuubism]

At first Hob isn't even sure the shop is open. The tiny door inset above a few steps, the utter lack of welcoming signage, the windows packed with unlabelled stacks of books--it doesn't exactly scream come in and buy something. As Hob steps up to the door, he really expects it to be locked, or for a sign to fall from the ceiling reading, abandon all hope here, mortal.

But the door to the bookshop--the name of which he's yet to determine, again with the utter lack of signage thing--just swings open at his touch, and he steps into a narrow hallway made entirely of--of course!--books.

Dust rises from the rug as he carefully makes his way deeper into the meandering corridors. The lightbulbs overhead are dim and in desperate need of replacement. The stacks are teetering and untouched. If he learned the place had been sitting here on this winding side street, exactly the same, for the past seven hundred years, he wouldn't be at all surprised.

And now Hob's marring its mysterious mausoleum aura by opening a jaunty modern coffee shop across the street.

Whoops.

Hence why he's bringing a peace offering before he accidentally starts a war over noise or crowds or god knows what else. Most places would probably be happy about increased foot traffic, but that's not the sense he's getting here.

This is all, of course, assuming he does find an owner, and not just a skeleton manning a till somewhere in this place long gone dark.

Hob doesn't find any customers. He does find several interesting-looking side hallways labelled things like, ~ the occult ~ , Oneiromancy, and "falconry -- advanced" and has to drag himself back into focus because the only thing worse than starting a turf war with a mysterious bookstore owner on his cafe's opening day is accidentally spilling the coffee he's brought--as a peace offering!--all over some ancient magical text.

"Hello?" he calls, finally giving up on the creeping about. "Anyone there?"

No answer. All Hob finds is a rickety set of stairs leading up the next level. So he ascends.

At the top is an even more cluttered room of books. This time in disorganized, unlabelled stacks on every surface. Waiting to be shelved, maybe? And in the center of it all, sitting cross-legged on the floor with several of these books spread out in a confusing array before him, is who Hob can only presume to be the owner.

An owner who is not dead, nor ancient and decrepit as Hob had kind of been picturing. Definitely not decrepit at all. Oohhhh dear.

The lithe, dark-haired, fey thing that is the owner tapes a note inside another book and says, in a distracted tone, "Can I help you?"

"Uh," says Hob, because he came here on a mission but he's gotten really turned around, "do you drink coffee?"

This gets him a raised eyebrow, but the shop owner does turn to look at him, staring up from his position on the floor. Christ he's pretty, spectacles and all. If there is a battle over street noise levels, Hob's going to lose by dint of caving automatically to those eyes. Pathetic.

The bookstore owner looks at the coffee in Hob's hand, then back at Hob's face. "Why?"

Hob thrusts the cup in his direction. "Here."

The owner looks alarmed now, but takes the cup, gingerly, peering at it as if he thinks Hob might have given him pureed nightshade instead. "Why?" he repeats, and then, because apparently his level of self-preservation doesn't extend to things like not drinking random shit thrust at him by strangers, takes a sip, and hums in appreciation.

"I-- fuck, sorry--" Hob sits down on the floor, which only makes him look more like a maniac to be honest-- "I just-- I just opened across the street? The cafe? So I just wanted to say hi and-- holy shit, is your name actually Dream? Were you a stripper in another life or something?"

This because he's finally spotted a tiny nametag pin on the bookstore owner's cardigan-- a cat curled around a book where the cover reads, I am Dream.

"Yes," says Dream, and Hob has no idea if that's in response to the first question, the second, or both. Both is terrifying to think about. As is the fact that Hob even asked that. "The cafe, you said?"

"Mmhmm," Hob agrees, cheeks burning. Oh, he's making a right mess of this, all right.

"Hmm," says Dream, peering at him over the coffee cup. This indicates nothing to Hob about how he feels about the cafe situation.

"I just worried that more noise and stuff might bother you," Hob rushes to explain. "You seem. To. You know. Like your quiet. Is all."

"It is my understanding that cafes and bookstores frequently have symbiotic relationships," says Dream evenly, though he's still watching Hob with unnerving intensity.

Well. That was easy. Maybe Hob was just worrying over nothing. Wanting to be liked when it wouldn't have been an issue.

"Alright," he says, letting out a breath. "Well. Good!"

"Good," echoes Dream, with a tiny, wry smile.

"What is this place anyway? I've seen no signage whatsoever."

"It's called The Library," Dream says.

Hob waits for him to explain. He doesn't. "Um, but... isn't it a shop?"

Dream raises an unimpressed eyebrow. "And?"

"So..." Hob says, "it's not a library."

"Purchasing something is but extended borrowing from the universe," says Dream, like that makes any sense at all.

But Hob decides there's other things he'd rather do with a pretty goth bookstore/library/whatever owner than argue semantics. "What do you carry, then?"

Now Dream preens like a cat. "The Library contains every book in print."

Now it's Hob's turn to raise an eyebrow. "That seems... unlikely? Impossible?"

Dream's self-satisfied little smile doesn't fade. "You are welcome to browse the stacks and let me know if there is anything you cannot find."

And, well, it's true that Hob didn't really get a sense of just how far back this place goes. It looks small from the street, but he's already wandered pretty far in just to find Dream, and has yet to reach a back wall.

"I will definitely have to come back," he agrees. And get lost. Definitely get lost. He's not even sure he can find his way out. He'll probably get swallowed up in Oneiromancy.

"In return I will be sure to visit your cafe," says Dream. He says it so strangely, like crossing into a foreign land. I will be sure to visit your court. "Are you open late?"

"On Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, yup," says Hob.

"Excellent." Dream inclines his head imperiously to Hob. "Thank you. For the coffee."

Hob figures he should let him get back to his labeling. He has plenty of his own work, too.

"Yeah, sure, any time. Good to meet you, Dream."

And then he scurries away before he can make it any weirder, makes his meandering way out of "The Library," and doesn't get lost in Oneiromancy.

This time.

--

The following night, Hob looks up from the till to find Dream standing across the counter from him. He looks much the same as before, with the addition of a long dark coat over his clothes, and no reading glasses this time. He offers Hob a tiny smile. "Hob Gadling."

Gosh, he looks, if possible, even prettier in the warm lighting of the cafe than in the darkness of his shop. Though to be honest, Hob had half-convinced himself he'd hallucinated Dream's existence. He hasn't seen anyone go in or out of the shop since.

"Dream," he greets, with a smile. "Anything I can get for you?"

"It is I who have something for you." He hands Hob what must be a book, though it's wrapped in brown paper. "Consider it a return gift. Or perhaps. A welcome."

And before Hob can even ask if he wants coffee or something, if he wants to sit down, he slips back out through the crowd and onto the street like a vapor, and then he's gone.

Hob tears open the paper. And then stares at the book in astonishment.

It's the book. Everyone has one. The book once read but since forgotten in the shuffle of time; title, author, too vague in recollection to pin down. Unsearchable. Never found, for all that the heart of the story might have lodged its way in somewhere deep.

It's one of those books that he remembers in blistering detail now that it's in his hands, that he read in uni but couldn't have found for the life of him on his own, and Dream's just handed it to him over the counter of his cafe.

He runs his fingertip over the midnight blue cover, the embossed lettering. In Search of Nightingales. And it's only as he looks up again at the hidden shop across the street, that he realizes he never told Dream his name, either.

#dream: its a library whose checkout term is the rest of your life :) ill get the books back eventually :) hope that clears it up for you hob #hob:....... #random drabble time i guess lol #dreamling #my writing #dream of the endless #hob gadling #bookstore cryptid dream

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids 👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

[Here's part one or whatever. If I feel like making more I'll make more and/or post it to ao333333.]

💚👻👽👻💚

The world is on fire, and Danny is burning.

The GAV is in shreds; wherever he’s crashed, there’s no way to determine up or down. He’s entombed in wreckage. Everything is on fire and everything burns, and it takes Danny all his strength to peel himself from where he’s contorted around the driver’s seat chair, to drag himself through the twisted metal and shards of glass with nothing but his hands and his tears.

He hurts.

It hurts so badly.

He crawls, because he can’t tell if he has legs or a tail right now, and is too afraid to find out he can’t walk by injuring one of his legs permanently. It’s hard to see through the smoke and the tears. He can’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe even if he wanted to.

There are instincts unique to being dead. Danny can’t tell up or down, and he can’t tell where he is or remember how he got here, but his core tugs him towards somewhere dark. Somewhere cool. Somewhere enclosed, even—even better, so Danny can curl up and sob in peace.

Danny wedges himself into a dark corner, curls himself up as much as he can, and lets himself drop into his core.

*

Something is touching him somethingistouchinghimsomethingistouchinghim—

Danny pops out of his core with a scream. No words. No coherency. Everything hurts, and all he can do is scream.

Someone is touching him. The thing touching him is body-shaped. Human-shaped. Danny screams higher, louder—some part of his hindbrain knows that if he screams for real then there won’t be a human but there will be guts and gore and blood, but Danny’s too tired to scream for real, and too weak. His scream is only enough to send the human sprawling back instead.

More humans take the place of the first. Danny keens, fights back a sob—when another tries to rouse him from his hiding spot with an exposed hand, Danny flashes his teeth.

The human flinches, but doesn’t go away.

Danny feigns a fanged bite. The figure jumps back. Good.

He’s too weak to run. He’s too weak to walk through the walls of his hiding spot and dart away. His visibility flickers—probably how a human found him in the first place. He’s so tired. Everything hurts. But if he looks dangerous and acts dangerous, maybe they’ll leave him alone. They have to leave him alone.

Please, please leave him alone.

They don’t.

There’s something in his face. Danny doesn’t recognize the shape immediately, but eventually something clicks: a loop on a stick is a catchpole. The strangers are trying to capture him.

He’s so afraid of something else around his neck. His whole body racks with shivers. He can’t run. He can’t bite. Please, please, please—

It doesn’t latch to his hand. It latches to his wrist.

Danny is only peripherally aware of being dragged onto his knees, of being dragged into a container. By the time the doors shut in around him, his mind is empty of anything that isn’t fear and pain, pain, pain.

He drops into his core.

*

Danny wakes up in a container.

It’s not the same container. But all containers are the same.

Danny screams. The soundwaves vibrate the glass until it shakes, slamming against the floor until cracks form in the concrete beneath him.

Still, no cracks form in the container. When he wails a second time, there’s no strength behind it. He just sobs.

He’s alone. He’s alone and he’s contained and no one is coming to get him. His transportation is in pieces. He’s injured and he’s scared. He’s so scared. Everything hurts. He wants to hide in his core and he wants to run away and he wants to slither through the wall and he doesn’t have the energy into any of it.

Danny curls up in a corner, hopes he’s left alone—or better, released—and hides.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he hears a click.

…But he hears a click. Danny peeks open an eye.

There’s…food. He thinks it’s food, anyway. Oatmeal? It’s in a bowl and it’s beige and it’s on a tray on the ground.

Danny sniffs. …The last captors hadn’t offered him food. They hadn’t thought he’d had needs, or that they ought to feed him.

It’s a miserable, aching feeling when he thinks this is a step up.

There’s a flimsy plastic spoon on the tray. When Danny jumps on the bowl, devouring the contents as quickly as his body will let him, the spoon goes down the hatch with the gruel.

Danny falls back asleep in the far corner of the container miserable, cold, in pain, and injured. But he falls asleep full.

It’s a luxury to not be hungry.

*

There’s a click.

Danny ignores it. He’s not hungry. He’s sleepy. His body is trying to conserve calories and metabolize new ones. He doesn’t want to wake up.

The oatmeal goes uneaten.

*

There’s a click. Danny’s eyes crack open.

Apparently he’s been asleep for a while, because there are three bowls of uneaten oatmeal on the ground, waiting for him. All are in varying stages of crusting over.

Whatever. Free food. Danny wolfs it down anyway, and tucks himself back into his corner. He’s almost him-shaped again. His human traits are slowly returning, cell by cell, piece by piece. He can almost feel the fractures he knows he’ll have in his legs!

…Wait. Wasn’t his container opaque?

It’s…not anymore. The walls are clear. Danny can see—or, well, until he gets his eyes back, can sort of feel—the room around him, and the trace presences of the beings who occupy it.

It’s a lab. Danny knew it would be, but his core still drops down, down down. He had been praying he’d never see a live specimen lab ever again. He certainly hadn’t wanted to see yet another one from inside the cage.

Humans come and go from the lab. Most are in white coats and pants, but they’re not GIW. Or, well, they’re probably not GIW, anyway, considering that they’ve been feeding him. The guys in white never think of his needs, since they don’t care if he Ends or not. There are monitors that fuzz and warp in his not-vision with details he can’t make out on screen, but knows instinctively that the monitors pertain to him.

And to his capture.

There are some visitors in odd colored suits. They talk. The colorful ones don’t approach him, but they…watch.

No one approaches. Good. Danny will bite them if they do.

With the see-through window, Danny can see the bright-suited blob shove a tray of food through a slot in his container.

It doesn’t fall to the floor, though. There’s a little mechanical thing that brings the oatmeal and flimsy spoon to a safe rest on the steel floor.

…Alright. Bone appetite. Danny’s hungry, and food is food. He pours most of the bowl straight into his stretched mouth and scrapes the rest in with a spoon.

More of his wounds are sealing. Healing. His core doesn’t throb so horribly with pain. The cracks in his soul are smoothing out. With consistent food and rest, Danny will be able to actually mount an escape.

Good. Danny licks the flecks of meal from the edges of his mouth. Good.

When he naps, this time, it’s on purpose.

Soon he’ll be healed enough to leave.

*

The clear window doesn’t go away. Danny’s poor sight doesn’t improve, but he can see people come and go. Danny’s never truly left alone. There is always at least one brightly-colored human around (or one dark, silent human), and an assortment of white-coated scientists milling about.

The clear window lets them see him, presumably. If Danny wants to escape, he’ll have to be careful not to be seen.

Quietly, so quietly. Danny slo-o-o-owly amps up the resonance of his core.

There are cameras. There must be. There are always cameras. Disrupting the electrical flow in and around his container is essential to getting himself out of sight.

The lights flicker. The human milling about all flock to monitors, silent voices coming muffled through the see-though walls of the container. Danny reels in his resonance just a touch—whoops.

But no one is looking.

Something twinges in Danny. Well…no one is looking.

Very, very quietly, Danny peels a relatively safe amount of ectoplasm away from his core. A Danny-shaped shadow forms, and, yeesh, does he really look that bad?

Whatever. There’s no time.

Danny turns himself invisible. He slips through the walls of his container, and leaves the lab to explore the base.

#the JL: uh. what the hell is this #the JL: I guess we can...it looks vaguely humanoid? Should we assume it's sentient? Let's get it to medbay— AH IT'S GONNA BITE ME #JL: Feral Baby Jail. STAT. #another Everyone in DP Is Dead Or Otherwise Inaccessible AU™ #dp x dc #dpxdc #danny phantom #dcu #dcu crossover #cryptid!au #tw injury #tw medical #I guess #There are VERY enthusiastic doctors on hand at all time WAITING to slap a bandaid on him as soon as they figure out communication #in the meantime #allergen friendly nutrient gruel it is baby!