#crow au

[sneakysnekoden]

birds are together now

am I going insane or this is just crow au brainrot affecting me....

[enemalcrow]

Exposing the mysterious shadow.

From my Crow au in which Akechi is stuck in the Metaverse for years before meeting the Phantom Thieves… When they convince him to go back to irl, he’s… a bird 🐦‍⬛

[the-shotce-newsletter]

Ok so that Crow!Simon au that I started is now becoming a Crow!Soap au. Big surprise after this hell week, fuck you Activision.

It’s actually being written, but like, it’s going to be a one shot instead as the whole idea gets flip flopped. 🤔 maybe I’ll eventually write both.

[pronusespinosa]

What if… two animal mascots…? And they were roommates…

I got myself an iPad and procreate and now I’m unstoppable…!! Still learning how to use everything though 👀

[thediktatortot]

I just had a idea:

Billy and Eddie hit it off really well when Billy first moved into Hawkins. Neither of them were able to hide each other's affections for very long either, falling into a hard and fast type of romance that both of them were having a blast in, having the time of their lives and didn't plan on stopping any time soon.

Then Billy dies in the Starcourt mall fire and Eddie's drifting and no one knows why. It's why he fails highschool for a second time and has to push everything to the side long enough to help Wayne pay the bills and keep his weed habit paid for.

Then Eddie comes face to face with the very evil he's been told took down Billy, took Billy away and snuffed him out like he was water to a flame. It's all stacked against him though, his heart, his life, his luck.

Eddie's taken from them too and so goes the last person who knew about the secret love that Billy could have given them.

------ The Crow AU (Hold the Crow Familiar)------

Billy doesn't know how he's breathing, but he's taking in sharp bursts of breath as he crawls up from rubble that had apparently been dozed over him, fingers breaking concrete and bending bars in his struggle to make it to freedom.

He's filled with a rage he can't seem to let go of and it fuels him to break himself out and into the open air. He's in an abandoned work site. He's hurting though, a fiery pain seeming to radiate through his body simply because his mind is telling him that's what he should feel. He has to look at himself to see there's nothing wrong. It still feels like something's there, like his bones are just at the cusp of breaking beneath the weight of something heading his way.

He's confused and disoriented but the longer he walks the more small bits of things come back to him. He remembers fire and bangs of light that make his heart race and he can remember the sound of glass breaking and his sight leaving him for just a while, his legs shaking lightly as though he's close to passing out.

He also remembers crying, remembers searing hot pain all through his body as he struggled to breath through the oppressive heat of the air around him.

Billy's whole body thumps into the front door of his house when he tries to open it, staring at the handle for a moment before realizing his key didn't open the door.

There's also a car he's never seen parked in the driveway, a flowery mailbox that wasn't there before, and below his feet there's a doormat that says "Welcome to our House".

It takes Billy a few moments of looking at all these details before he turns and walks away, now heading down the street to another house that he remembers in his head. It's a trailer Billy remembers, run down and dimly lit by the warm light swarming with moths that he had sat in front of on many occasions.

The smell of weed and cheap beer on top of the smell of recently cooked burgers comes over him as he remembers looking up at that light, making some comment about turning it off and someone replying in a tangy sounding voice that sends shivers down his spine.

This is a good memory.

Billy wants more of that, but the haze of pain and fire clouds his thoughts as he makes his way down the dark road towards the trailer in his memories.

It's dark when he gets there, the police tape surrounding the neighborhood having been ripped down and there's no lights on coming from inside the trailer. There's police tape there too, blocking off entrance to the front door and surrounding the property in broken waves.

Billy makes his way inside slowly, the police tape breaking against his stride as he steps into the trailer and shuts himself inside.

Something happened here, Billy can feel that, stepping on the moist carpeted living room as he feels a sense of dread building up inside of himself. He looks up at the dark stain ripping through the ceiling of the trailer's inner walls and it's like he can watch it happen with all his senses.

He is Chrissy Cunningham, he is also Vecna watching her as he claws into her mind and into her most vulnerable memories and claws her mind away like meat from a shell.

He hears screaming, so much screaming and he can't tell if it's himself or Chrissy or Eddie-

Eddie. Eddie. Where is Eddie?

Billy stumbles away from where Chrissy was ripped out of this world and into the hallway, dragging mud and dirt along the old carpet floors as he stumbles into the bedroom at the end of the hall.

It's like being shot over and over, the memories of Eddie crashing into him one after another as both the wide smile of his goofy grin and quick energy of Eddie's personality is quickly over imposed with blood and the sound of shrill cries.

He is both the Demobats and Vecna, watching as Eddie is mowed down by droves and picked apart one flap of his wing at a time.

Billy cant scream anymore, his voice raw and broken as he falls to his knees in the middle of the trashed bedroom and cries. It hurts so bad. It hurts like nothing else Billy has ever experienced, he had something good, something happy and fun and it was all taken away from him, taken away from Eddie.

And now Billy's here and Eddie's gone and he can only imagine how it felt for Eddie to loose Billy. Did he cry? Did he feel such a gaping loss as though it was a cavern inside of his chest that would never get shallower? Was the thought of getting up and trying again just another painful drag of the claws of sudden loss as bad for Eddie as it is for Billy?

Now he's angry.

The rage Billy first felt as he struggle to open his eyes and claw his way from the rubble is back and the only thing Billy can't think about is revenge. What left is there for Billy? His life is gone, his only connections are gone, the one person who had given Billy the time of day to show his true self is gone.

What would Eddie do?

Probably put on a show, turn up the music and say 'fuck it' as the world fell down around him.

Billy's already on his feet and moving towards the bathroom, opening and closing draws until he finds what he wants and dumps out a old box of shitty gas station brand makeup he knew Eddie kept for his gig nights.

It's ridiculous but Billy feels like he has to do this, has to find some thing that connects him to Eddie as he sets out on his mission. It'll be his mask, his own performance like Eddie would have cheered him on to do.

It's not perfect and it's smudged around the edges but Billy can't help but stare at himself in the dark bathroom mirror after he's nearly smashed the pencil liner between his fingers.

He looks ridiculous.

Eddie loved ridiculous.

With a wide grin at the mirror to himself, he feels like he can feel Eddie with him, the smell of his hair next to his face and the tangy voice of his telling him to embrace chaos and he's gone, dipping out into the night to enact his chaotic plan of vengeance.

[morroodle]

Au where Morro is a crow that can talk. It's still him and his voice but he's stuck being a crow. He still tries to be big and scary and cause problems for the ninja but all he's really capable of is screaming and biting their fingers. The ninja think its funny and treat him like an asshole pet they cab talk to while Wu is very distressed about the whole situation. Morro steals his tea because he thinks it's funny.

[adhdsix]

hey tumblr

blumity crow au!

read here :] (i just dropped chapter 2 winks)

im more active on twitter (flr3starter) if this interests you !

[west-tokyo-incidents]

Once again, a racket rings out in his garden.

But this time it's three in the afternoon, and Paresse has long since taken his medication for his migraines and... other issues... he sighs and stands up from his couch. It doesn't sound like the week before, though. The 'caw'ing isn't frantic nor pained. He slips through his kitchen to the back door, grabbing his jacket on the way.

He opens it to see a crow on the railing of the little wooden square of a porch he had. There's a moment where they just look at one another, and then the crow makes a little croak and fluffs up, looking down to peck at something shining on the railing next to her. He steps closer and peers at it, it's just a little piece of metal with a strip of blue paint starting to peel off it. He picks it up, to which his crow friend seems pleased.

He turns it over in his hand at looks at her, "Is this for me?" He gets a croak in response. He smiles softly, "Well, thank you, ma'am. Er... I think you're a ma'am..." He scratches the back of his head. She just lets out a little ticking noise. One he recognizes. He laughs, then suddenly seems to think of something and goes inside, getting something out of his cabinet before bringing it back out.

"Here. Food's probably a little scarce out there, huh?" It's a little bag of excess seeds from his garden. Usually he roasts them later into the winter, but he doesn't need ALL of them. He opens it and offers her a handful. He laughs as she immediately starts to chow down.

And so began something of a transactional relationship. The crow would bring him little trinkets, wires, bottle caps, bits of foil and more metal scrap, and so on. One time she brought him a key to something. He scolded her for it, but with a smile before taking it back inside and placing it among the other gifts.

It's late into winter before he has to make his next trip out of his house. He's self-sufficient for food with his garden, selling scrap and his pottery to pay for his water and electricity, but his little town house is paid for, so he doesn't work much, but meat is scarce and... well, he has reasons he can't go without.

So, he bundles up and goes out. Ice and snow crunch under his feet, trapped between the leather soles and cracked, stained concrete. Some of his neighbors have kids, and they're playing in the distance, he can hear them. His gloved hand slides under the handle of his car door, ignoring the scrape of rust. The door complains loudly at having been left so long between drives, and the car itself complains as well when he turns the key. Yet, it still starts.

He sighs out a small cloud and begins to drive. Everything is the same as always. He pays little attention to his surroundings, except to slow down when he passes the playing kids with red noses and snow down their shirts during the height of their snowball war. No one jumps out into the road, though, and he continues on by.

But not everything is quite the same. As he turns out of the neighborhood, he pauses at the stop sign. Perched atop it is an owl, with their head cocked at such an angle at something below. He sits up a little peer out over his dashboard to see a little weasel, an ermine, absolutely bouncing and weasel dancing. He can hear faint chattering as it jumps at the stop sign, only to fail to climb up it and begin its furious little jig again. The corner of his mouth twitches. He'd fancy it an argument over a lost mouse.

He looks back up at the owl, who is tilting her head this way and that at the weasel. He just sits back--someone is behind him now--and starts driving again...

...

Meat prices have gone up again. He has to leave behind some seeds he'd wanted to get. He makes a face at his receipt as he leaves. How frustrating. He throws the bag into his passenger seat. Distracted so by thoughts of hunting, but distressed at the idea of hearing gunfire, he doesn't at first see the brightly adorned figure approaching. As he turns and closes the passenger door, he nearly runs into her.

She jumps back a step, "Oh, sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to sneak up on you!"

He stares at her, doe-eyed, confused and annoyed. She bites her lip at the lack of response, which prompts him to break eye contact at realizing he's staring again. He quickly takes her in. A Vagabond. Clothes made of hand-woven twine and wires with pieces of metal woven in. She has a large, colorful shawl covering most of her, and the way she holds herself tells him she has a weapon hidden somewhere on her. A necklace of wire with plastic-carved beads and a few feathers hangs around her neck, and a fluffy mane of black hair frames her face, a beard lining her chin.

She shifts in place, "Ah, um... I'm really sorry to bother you, but I noticed you looking at the seeds."

Oh? He straightened up a little. What was she--...

Her hands reach out, and she's holding the two packets he'd put back. He frowns a little, confused.

"For you. A gift. If you were looking at these, I figure you must have real experience growing stuff, so you should have them."

"...what do you want?" His voice is low, warning.

Her bright and confident grin falters. She shakes her head, "Nothing. Just an impulse thing."

He makes a pointed look down at her, and then back up, "I mean no offense, but you shouldn't spend your money on strangers." He straightens his back, now looking more downward at her, "Especially not if you're on the road this time of year."

She giggles and shakes her head again. Her hair bounces around her face as she does. It's a cute thing that catches him off guard. She takes one of his hands and presses the packets into them, "I don't have much use for money for myself." She glances past him, at the bag in his car, "You should try putting out a few snares. The rabbits around these parts are fat and lazy with no coyotes to hunt them." Then she turns and leaves him to stare after her with the seed packets left with him.

He laughs to himself. Well, his brother certainly wasn't kidding when he said that Vagabonds were strange.

But he isn't one to look a gift in the mouth and turns away to get into his driver's seat. He looks at them. Kale, spinach, stuff he can start inside and move out in the spring.

He doesn't think of much other than his plans for planting when he gets back, except to briefly note the lack of owl and weasel at the turn, as well as the remains of the great snowball war littering four lawns.

The car is parked to be left there for another month or so, and he steps out, with slightly less crunch than before. But his mind isn't on the little sensations, it's on getting inside and seeing how many spare pots he has and if he thought to bring in any soil before the frost turned it to near stone. It's on almost forgetting to kick the snow off his boots before stepping inside and bemoaning having to put the meat up, first.

The Vagabond herself has almost entirely slipped his mind as his eyes light up upon seeing that yes, he did remember to bring in soil.