#he'd make a good cryptid

[suzukiblu]

thinking of fully-not-cryptid tim still being horny about kon making shinies, because both 1) incredibly cool display of scientific understand and superpowers and 2) kon clearly thinks that he would appreciate them, and he’s making them solely for that purpose, and that just does something for him

You may or may not be tapping into something I am trying to tap into with the actual fic version here, lol. In fact, have a lil' excerpt along those lines:

"I got you something else too," he says eagerly, jamming a hand into his jacket pocket and then pulling something shiny out of it and holding it out in offering. Tim takes it on reflex, which is a stupid reflex, but Superboy just looks so excitedly hopeful that he does it without thinking. It's a crystal-clear and faceted rock with an unmistakably heart-like shape to it, and it sparkles brightly in the late-night Gotham moonlight. It's not a particularly big rock, but it'd be a pretty damn big gemstone. Which–if Tim didn't know better, he'd think Superboy had just handed him a perfectly flawless fifty-carat diamond. But that would be insane, because a diamond this size and quality would be worth a good five million dollars, if not significantly more, and– "I made it," Superboy says, his face turning a little pinker than the cold night air up here should account for with a half-Kryptonian, even one whose full powerset allegedly isn't in yet. "Like, I mean, I sat in a volcano and crushed some carbon and cut it with my TTK so it'd look nice and then–I just thought maybe you'd like that kind of thing? Birds like shiny stuff, right? And like, you're kind of . . . bird-ish, right?" . . . okay then, Tim thinks as he stares blankly at the custom-cut, custom-crafted diamond in his clawed gauntlet. He has absolutely no idea how he feels about this situation. "Ishhhhh," he says, then sort of just . . . disappears five million dollars of "shiny stuff" into the tattered folds of his cape and inside his hidden utility belt, because Superboy seems really invested in him liking it and also he apparently literally made it, which Tim is just . . . gonna need a moment about, maybe. Superboy's only existed for five months, two weeks, and six days. Exactly how long does it take to learn how to telekinetically cut a diamond? Much less one this flawless? Like . . . percentage-wise, how much of his life so far did Superboy just spend on learning how to make him a fifty-carat heart-shaped diamond? Just . . . mathematically-speaking and all.

[xratwriterx]

A Story For Monster Fuckers

NSFW 18+

Synopsis: What starts as a classic horror story about a terrifying beast eating you alive becomes something far sluttier.

Word Count: 5000 (give or take)

Kinks/Triggers: wendigo(?) x female reader, NOT a lore accurate wendigo, monster x female reader, hell of a size difference, tongue fucking, multiple orgasms, breeding, it's a love story kinda but you're also silly and delulu.

Note: This is NOT an authentic wendigo. You're getting the stereotypical deer monster, not the humanoid cannibal creature from actual legend. I feel it's important to mention this, because the stories of what wendigos and skinwalkers are and such have been tainted by modern American culture, and deserve to be appreciated for what they are. I take LOTS of creative liberties in this story, and I just wanted to make sure y'all were aware. ;D

—

It was supposed to have just been a regular stroll through the woods.

You were lost. Of course you were lost. You had known from the start that this whole thing was a wretched and horrible idea. But oh, you just had to listen to your friends didn't you? It wasn't like you had anything better to do…

Your buddy Benjamin in particular had made you feel somewhat comfortable with the whole idea. He was a massive man whose facial hair made him look far older than he actually was. He liked to go hunting around here, and he even brought his hunting rifle with him before coming to pick you and your friends up, more so to make you feel safe than anything else. “I've traveled through these woods for years now. I know every nook and cranny, ain't nothin gonna hurt you out here,” he had spoken as if the whole idea of your fear was annoying, though you knew he meant no harm, “Those stories you hear are just told for the fun of it. Those old geezers yapping on about cannibal cryptids just get a kick outta scaring you.” It was hard to not feel safe around him. He'd made himself very clear that he wasn't interested in you, (frankly, he didn't seem to have an iota of desire for a partner in his body), and he'd always been there to pick you up when you fell down. So when all of your friends were gonna go with him down some new and obscure little trail he had found just for the hell of it, it wasn't too challenging to egg you on to just join in.

Now you were really regretting listening to him.

You couldn't pinpoint when it was exactly that you had gotten lost. You were never all that good at paying attention, and you normally liked to just go nonverbal and let your friends do all the yapping while you were out and about. You had gotten caught up in the forest's beauty, staring up at the leaves and how the sun shot its rays of light between the gaps. It had been like walking underneath one enormous painting, filled with random and intricate layers of dazzling greens and soft browns. It was remarkably beautiful, so much so that by the time you stopped to look around again…

You had tried calling out for somebody, but nobody had come. You had tried backtracking, but everything looked the same, and there were a lot more diverging paths than what you had remembered. Worst of all, the sun was going down, and you knew once its light was gone that you wouldn't be able to see a thing.

You tried to take a deep breath. It was difficult not to panic, especially because of the sheer unfamiliarity of it all. It was like the entire layout of the forest changed every time you blinked. The very air you were breathing seemed to be tainted. It was like that feeling you get whenever you walk into a place and just know there's something paranormal about it. These woods were more than just haunted. It was almost as if you had been placed under some kind of curse.

Just as it was really getting dark, you saw a large field through a thicket of bushes. You hesitated for a moment, before finally deciding to go off the trail completely. Maybe a helicopter could see you better from a big open space like this, though you hoped it wouldn't also make you more visible to anything that wanted to eat you…

The sun was just about gone now. Great. At least there were some large rocks near the center of the field that you could hide by. They leaned on each other and were shaped in a way that provided minimal shelter, but it was better than nothing. You huddled up and decided to just keep your mouth shut until you heard something that sounded friendly…

As time went by, you checked to see if your phone had any signal for good measure. Of course, it didn't, but that little box of light and colors was your only piece of familiarity in all of this. You took a moment to look through your photos, clearing some unnecessary clutter while thinking back to all of the memories you had before this.

You weren't gonna die out here. You were scared out of your damn mind, but you knew in your gut that this wasn’t how it was going to end. You couldn't have been THAT far from home, and even if you were, you were in a spot that must've been easy to find from the air. Maybe tomorrow you could even grab some rocks and spell out the word “help” or something. If anything, this was an opportunity to collect some crazy new y/n lore.

You turned down the brightness on your phone and looked up at the sky for what was supposed to be a moment, before becoming completely entranced. You had never seen so many stars before, and the moon was casting its light down on the soft grass that surrounded you. You had never seen something that managed to be so simultaneously beautiful and creepy. It certainly wasn't helping that everything had just gone utterly silent. You could've sworn you had heard birds chirping before, but now there was nothing. When you finally took a moment to acknowledge your surroundings again, you felt your heart sink. There was something in the woods looking back at you.

You could barely make out its figure, but it was standing right at the forest edge, and it did not look normal. It wasn't moving at all, but you knew it wasn't just an oddly shaped tree. You could feel its eyes on you. A cool rush of adrenaline had shot out from your spine through your entire body. You refused to blink, because you knew the moment you did it would be gone. Sure, seeing some beast in the distance was frightening, but it was better than knowing something was out there without knowing its exact location. You sat completely still, hoping it wasn't looking at you, even though you knew it was. This was definitely the most intense staring contest you had ever been in.

You could feel your eyes starting to burn and well with tears, but you just couldn't bring yourself to blink. You did your best to keep an eye on the thing as you slowly opened your phone and pressed the button for the flashlight. With a triumphant movement, you raised the light to see what was there and…

There was nothing. The light didn't reach. In fact, the bright light caused your eyes to adjust, and now you couldn’t see the tree line. Not only that, but you had also just confirmed to this creature that you were in fact present. You quickly turned the light off, and of course by the time your eyes had adjusted again, the creature was long gone.

Cursing yourself for making such an idiotic move, you tried to huddle closer to the rocks, as if they'd protect you at all from whatever was out there. You knew you had seen something. This wasn't your eyes playing tricks on you, as much as you wished that were the case.

Every second felt like a minute. The tension was so thick it could've been sliced with a disposable plastic knife that you’d find at a birthday party. You were frantically scanning the tree line in front of you, but the rocks you were hiding behind blocked any view of the woods behind you, and you didn't dare try to look around. You were just waiting for something to slowly peek its head around. Your brain kept conjuring up worse and worse ideas of what you had just looked at, making this living nightmare all the more unbearable, and that wasn't even mentioning the regret you felt for pulling your damn phone flashlight out.

The woods began to speak again. Whatever had been looking at you was gone now. You nearly screamed when you saw something trotting across the field in front of you, but you let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was a deer.

A few more followed, and they moved with purpose, almost as if they wanted to get through the field as quickly as possible. You didn't blame them, but you weren't about to join in. This field was your only chance of rescue, and you weren't about to let some spooky cryptid fresh out of a shitty YouTube analog horror video scare you off. You triumphantly smiled and almost laughed, more out of the insanity of it all than anything else, but you didn't dare make a sound. You had no delusions about the fact that whatever the hell was out there was absolutely real.

You tried to conjure up from memory what exactly those old men in town had said in those tales about the forest. It was a legend that had been passed down through the generations, one of a great beast that was once the most handsome man in an old native tribe. He was an arrogant man, and a cunning warrior, who through his strength and charm had become the leader of his people. But when this had happened, he only became greedy for more. He started to attack neighboring tribes, and he started a unique tradition of feasting on the captured leaders while they were still alive. This displeased the gods, and the more he did this, the more corrupt and insane he became. One day, the nearby tribes finally banded together as one and managed to capture him. It was then that he was banished to roam the woods until he died, never to be seen again…

But, while his mortal punishment had been given, the gods were still not satisfied, and so they cursed him with eternal life, a twisted form, and a permanent, insatiable hunger for human flesh. Rumor has it that he roams these woods to this day, looking for his next victim. His original name has long since been forgotten. Only the word “Wendigo” remains…

Before, you had at least felt comfort in knowing these stories weren't true, but now that you had seen that thing, you couldn't think up a better explanation. Maybe you wouldn't make it out of here alive after all…

No, the minute you started to think like that was the moment it was all over. This was a prank, some cruel stupid prank your so called “friends” were playing on you. So what if they had always been extraordinarily kind and understanding before, and had never pulled something remotely mean on you before. It was a better explanation than being hunting by a mythical creature, right?

You took a deep breath, and called out into the woods, “I'm not scared of you!” The woods went quiet again the moment you finished speaking. You could almost feel the trees around you calling you a dullard. “Th-this is all just a stupid prank! And it's NOT funny! So- just come out RIGHT now! Or I'll-”

Something in the forest screamed.

You nearly squeaked before going silent. That sound you had heard was not human. It sounded like a mixture between a howl and a screech, something along the lines of a dying bovine. It had come from behind the rocks you were hiding in.

A few moments passed, and another sound came forth. This time it was a low growl, accompanied with the sound of claws on rock. You knew it was doing this on purpose. If it wanted to be silent, it definitely could've. It was slowly making its way to your left, coming around to reveal itself to you. There was nothing you could do to stop this creature.

It started with a hand, covered in a thin layer of black fur and tipped with sharp claws. Then came around the rest of the creature. It must've been at least 8 feet tall, though right now it was crouching low to get a better look at you. Its waist was deathly thin, its skin gripping around its ribcage. Despite its humanoid shape, its head was completely foreign. Its face took the form of a deer’s skull, with a set of antlers coming from atop its head. Most apparent of all was a pair of dimly lit red eyes...

There was no way this was some kind of prank. It would take a level of coordination that you knew your friends couldn't pull off. You were certain you were looking at that beast of legend the locals talked about so much. You were face to face with the Wendigo.

It let out another low growl. You desperately wanted to move, but fear had paralyzed you. It moved with surprising grace, leaning its head forward to give you an almost curious look. “A-are you gonna eat me or what?” you barely managed to whimper out. The creature simply stared into your eyes for a moment before… shaking its head.

“Wh…what?” you gawked in disbelief, “Can you… understand me?” The creature slowly moved its head up and down. You laughed. How else were you supposed to react? Not only had you just met a supernatural creature, it wasn't trying to kill you.

“So… you can't talk, but you can- okay, there aren't any mushrooms in this forest that can mess me up, right?” The creature nonchalantly shrugged in response, backing up slightly and looking around before looking back at you. “That… isn't helpful,” you sighed. Suddenly, the creature grabbed your ankles.

“Hey! What're you-” it pulled your waist out from under you, dirtying up your jeans as it began to sniff you all over. You giggled and kicked your feet, trying to tuck your neck away as the creature smelled you, “Heheheh- h-hey! Cut that out! That tickles-” What started as short sniffs turned into a deep inhale. The creature lifted its head back a bit, as if relishing in your scent before leaning forward again as it pulled your waist closer to… his.

Yep, it was very apparent now that this was a boy. There was a massive piece of evidence now throbbing between his legs to prove it. You blushed at the sight before quickly looking back up the monster, “Y-you’re joking. Awwww great, you're telling me I got a HORNY forest monster?!” The Wendigo responded by bringing his hands to your hips, grasping them with shocking gentleness as he purred in your ear. The worst part was, the whole thing was turning you on.

The beast brayed with what sounded like slight desperation, but oddly enough, he wasn't advancing things any further. The tip of his fat monster cock was already starting to ooze with precum, but something was holding him back. You looked up to see the Wendigo was staring you down, almost as if he wanted something…

“N-no way- are you asking me for my consent?” you spoke in utter shock. The creature simply groaned, letting out a short and frustrated huff before nodding. “Okay, first of all. I don't appreciate your sass. Second- hey!” The creature had gently begun dragging the tip of its tongue from your collarbone to your jawline, eliciting a slight moan, much to your embarrassment. The beast’s chest rumbled and jumped, a deep, powerful laugh coming from behind its exposed jaw. “H-hey. None of this is funny. Okay mister? You need to- hhhhah…” The Wendigo lightly flicked its tongue along your neck as its knee pressed up between your legs. You tried to close them, but the monster responded by grabbing your knees with his hands and easily prying them open. The monster growled at you again, refusing to take things any further.

You took a moment to catch your breath and think. Maybe this creature could help you? It certainly didn't seem like anything in the forest wanted to mess with it. Even so, you felt you were perfectly capable of handling things on your own. You still liked your little plan with the helicopter and the rocks.

No, there was something else now. Morbid curiosity. You were curious as to what it would be like to let this thing fuck you. The monster certainly seemed like he had the capacity to be gentle…

“O-okay… I-I'll let you do it… but you have to follow my instructions. No funny business, g-got it?” the monster slowly nodded in understanding, backing off slightly and bowing his head.

“Okay… u-uhm… do you have a name?” the beast looked up at you before shaking its head. You found this to be strange. Maybe the legends had gotten some things wrong? Surely a former human had a name. “Hm… how about… Wendy?” you smiled sheepishly. It was an odd (and frankly slightly childish) name to give him, but he didn't seem to mind. “Alright…” you mumbled awkwardly, sitting in silence with the creature and not knowing exactly what to do next.

Thankfully, Wendy seemed to be willing to take some initiative. He leaned forward and began grinding his knee up to your crotch again. You let yourself breathe freely now, relaxing as he brought a hand up to your chest and began to massage one of your breasts. “You seem- nnghh- awfully experienced for a forest monster. N-not that I've ever fucked one before. This is definitely- hah- a first for me,” you tried to speak evenly between your little mewls of pleasure, as you let the beast start to help you out of your clothes.

Despite his massive hands, Wendy was extraordinarily careful with you, helping to make sure you didn't tear any of your clothes. He even knew how to undo your bra. As you laid on your now bare back in the cool forest grass, you blushed as the creature took a moment to look you over once more. “Do you like what you see?” you nervously squeaked out. Wendy chuckled and gave you a slight nod, before bringing his hand down between your legs.

He started with a gentle touch, slowly slipping his fingers up your folds before finding your clit. You whimpered and seized up a bit from how sensitive you were and he quickly pulled his hand away, purring in your ear as if to reassure you and giving you a small lick on the cheek before trying again. He went even slower this time, and when he found the sweet spot again he simply held his middle and ring finger there. You took a moment to breathe. It all felt so fast paced, but the more you looked at Wendy, the more you wanted him to fuck you. It was the dirtiness of it all that was really getting to you, allowing this savage beast to have his way with you. You heard a questioning grunt come from him, and you nodded in response, “Yes, I'm ready. J-just start slow…”

Wendy did exactly as you wished, rubbing slowly as he began to place little licks along your cheek and neck again. This seemed to be his way of kissing you, since he didn't have any lips. He grumbled something unintelligible in your ear again, nuzzling his bony face up to yours in an affectionate manner. It was difficult to get a read on his face, since he couldn't exactly make facial expressions either, but his body language certainly implied that he was into you. If he was a human once, you reckoned it somewhat made sense. If anything, it explained why he was so pent up.

He began to move his fingers a little faster now, and you were both settling into a steady rhythm. The creature leaned in closer to you, grunting with arousal and letting out hot breaths of air. He was surprisingly gentle for such a large thing. You could feel yourself melting to his touch, relaxing your muscles as he silently guided you closer and closer to finishing.

“F-fuck Wendy- whoever taught you knew what they were doing- h-hahh-” you could barely speak between the relaxing waves of pleasure, “You're gonna make me cum..” Wendy wasn't speeding up anymore. As you bucked your hips from the pleasure, he simply grabbed you and held you in place, forcing you to hold still and take what he was giving you. It was almost terrifying how easily he could manhandle you. Despite his somewhat slender and unnatural appearance, he was leaps and bounds stronger than anyone you had ever been with before. “F-fuck Wendy! Nngh!-” you squirmed and moaned in ecstacy as you approached your peak, hearing the beast on top of you let out a gentle groan of satisfaction as your orgasm finally arrived. Your entire body shuddered with delight, your head lolling back as you took a moment to recover…

But Wendy wasn't done with you yet.

Now he had slipped lower on your body, prodding your entrance with his bony snout and braying something you couldn't understand. He took a moment to sniff you, before deeply inhaling and embracing your scent. “Hey!” you tried to scoot back, but he easily pulled you back closer, reaching down with his other hand and grasping his massive cock. You didn't know if you'd even be able to handle the thing, but Wendy seemed to have other ideas in mind.

That was when you felt his tongue starting to push inside of you. It was slick and warm with his saliva, and you gasped with surprise at the feeling of it. “Slowly, please,” you squeaked as you felt like you were starting to be stretched. Wendy did as you asked, but he certainly wasn't stopping. He buried his unnaturally long tongue deeper and deeper inside of your pussy, wiggling it around slightly to get a feel for you. It wasn't as thick as his cock was, so it felt a lot easier to handle.

He then began to make his tongue ripple. It felt a bit odd at first, but each ripple pushed right up into your g-spot, and you were quickly finding that you liked it. It was a completely unique sensation that you had never experienced before, but in a way it made sense. Having a long, powerful, dexterous tongue probably helped to break down food, since chewing is difficult to do without a mouth to hold all of that food in. Wendy had begun to stroke himself faster, groaning with delight at your flavor as he tasted your insides.

You tried to match his rhythm with your hips, grinding along with him so that he pushed into your g-spot a little harder. He settled his weight comfortably into his knees, freeing a hand from supporting his weight to hold onto yours. His thumb lovingly rubbed the back of your hand, and you could already feel yourself building up to another orgasm. “Damnit Wendy- f-fUCK you shouldn't be this good- you're gonna make me cum again!” you spoke with a pleasure riddled tone, but you knew it wasn't just skill that was getting you so turned on. You had never done something so deviant before. A one night stand was already a new experience (if you could even call this a one night stand) but you weren't just getting busy with some random guy. You were getting busy with-

“H-HAHH!!” your thoughts were interrupted as you got swept up in an orgasm. Your body shivered and shook as Wendy worked you right back into place with his strength, quickly yet smoothly easing off from working his tongue before gently retracting it from inside you.

You took a moment to breathe, and as you did, the beast slowly clambered his way back to being fully on top of you. You could see his tip was leaking with pre, to the point that a droplet dripped right onto your bare cunt. “W-wait,” you thought out loud, “This couldn't get me pregnant, could it?” Wendy didn't respond. “W-wendy?” you tried to reason with him, “Hey, y-you said you would listen to me, right? Wendy?!” You felt his strong grip on your thigh as he laid his cock out on your stomach, showing you with a seemingly amused expression just how deep inside you he would be going. You gulped nervously, whimpering in terror, “Please.. j-just don't hurt me…”

Wendy's hand then came up to your cheek, gently cupping it as he leaned forward and purred into your ear. You knew he was trying to comfort you, but the fear of pregnancy was still a very real thing.

But… fuck. Wouldn't it be hot to just let this beast have his way? You could just imagine the feeling of him dumping his hot, sticky load inside of you, fertilizing your womb with his seed. You could live a simple life out here in the woods. There would be no more societal pressures or worries. All you'd have to do was take monster dick and learn to live this new life. It didn't seem so bad the more you thought of it…

Wendy interrupted your thoughts once more with a gentle little lick on your cheek, followed by the feeling of his tip pressing up to your folds. He brayed with what sounded like desperation, the muscles in his free hand tensing as he closed it into a fist. He was struggling to control himself.

“Hey, shhhh…” you took Wendy's hand in yours, looking up at him with a gentle yet sheepish smile before saying, “Give it to me… pl-please…”

For a moment you both were locked in that moment, gazing into each other's eyes. Wendy let out a long winded exhale, as if he had been holding his breath. Then, with a deep throated growl, he began to push into you.

You winced. It hurt. You had expected it considering his size. But it also wasn't as bad as you had expected. You realized that him using his tongue earlier had not only felt amazing, but it had also primed you to take his cock instead of just going with that first. You assumed it was purposeful anyway. Reading the creature's thoughts was anything but easy.

He started with small thrusts, with each push stretching you a little more and allowing him to go a little deeper. He took his time, encouraging you with small “kisses” and gentle touches until he was finally fully submerged inside of you. You were soaking wet at this point, your slick fluids lathering up Wendy's dick as he began to get more assertive. He wrapped his arms under yours and held onto your shoulders, and you wrapped your arms around him to start to dig your nails into his back. “Oh god- W-wendyyyy,” you groaned in ecstacy, “You're sooooo big… mnngfff. Ddddon't stooop.” You were beginning to slur your words, your brain shutting down and going foggy as Wendy began to pick up his pace. Now that you had adjusted, his cock felt absolutely amazing. You never knew before that there was so much space inside of you to stimulate.

It didn't help that Wendy was getting more and more vocal with each thrust. What had started as gentle purrs and groans had turned into louder and louder animalistic roars, something like a mixture between a human and a deer. He certainly wasn't ashamed to speak his mind, grunting and growling unintelligible things in your ear that you could only assume was his way to dirty talking. Without context it might have even been comedic, but in this moment it felt all the more attractive to hear him desperately trying to communicate how turned on he was, and it wasn't helping that each thrust was bringing you closer and closer to the brink. You looked in Wendy's eyes. He was getting close too. You could just feel it.

You then wrapped your legs around him, refusing to let him pull out, even if he had been planning on it. You couldn't let this desire go now. You needed to feel him cum in you. “That's right. Fucking christ- pleeease cum inside me! Fill me. Fire that potent sticky load inside my fertile little womb and get me pregnant. I want it- no- I need it, so give it to me big boy! Knock me the fuck up!”

Wendy let out a final triumphant howl as you squealed with overwhelming pleasure. He pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could as you both reached your climaxes. It was timing made into perfection. Of course you were cumming at the same time. Your bodies were made for one another. That's what made doing something so wrong feel so right. You could actually feel his cock throb and pulse with each rope of semen that shot out from his tip, filling your guts more and more. It felt satisfyingly heavenly, like you were comfortably full from a full course meal…

He then slumped forward, nearly crushing you before barely catching himself. He huffed with exhaustion, his eyes blinking as if he was dazed. He didn't pull out, keeping his cum plugged up inside you as he began to lay himself down with you at his side. You allowed your bodies to wrap around one another's, the cool grass making for a surprisingly comfortable bed as Wendy cuddled you close. You snuggled up to his furry chest, listening to his lungs rhythmically fill and empty themselves of air.

You could feel your eyes starting to flutter. This felt oddly comfortable. The bright moon above was sheltered from your eyes by Wendy's arm, and he protectively held you close. Maybe the plan with the helicopter could wait a while. Maybe everything had worked out just fine already. Maybe you were exactly where you needed to be…

—

Whew! This one took me a while. It was my longest and most arduous project here yet. I'm taking a much deserved break. Expect shorter stuff for the time being. If you've read this far, I'm genuinely honored. To even reach one person and give them something to enjoy like this is enough to make it all worth it. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. <3

[llamagoddessofficial]

Okay, but can you Aggre/ the cryptid boyfriends?

The boys are cryptids who live together for convenience's sake. Mc moves in with her three very normal, very Not Unusual roommates, who definitely are not at all strange or bizarre or dangerous.

Sans: A close friend of Mc's that used every trick in the book to slide into her life. He's good at studying people, good at mimicking acceptable behaviours- so good, in fact, that all of his slightly stranger qualities are passed off as just Sans being weird. One time he mistook a ketchup bottle for a drinking bottle, and downed the whole thing, but everyone just thought he was doing a bit so everyone just laughed. When he acts bizarre, it's simply Sans being Sans. The others could reveal they're cryptids and Mc would still think Sans was the odd one out.

He seems so normal, so funny. But he's been her cryptid for a long time, following her, absorbing her interests and tastes in partners to try and win her over. He's playing the long game- and it's working. He acts weird around her all the time and she's just accepted he's Like That. She's even somewhat honoured by the fact that he feels relaxed enough around her to be weird; he brings out the weirdness in her too. They're weird buddies.

He'd very casually tell her he can 'shapeshift'. But he'd be reluctant to show his true form- let alone reveal he's a cryptid.

Red: A serial flirt, popular and handsome, constantly out on the town. Unlike the other two, who need breaks every now and then, Red can hold a different form for days on end with only minor slip ups.

... Deep down, though, he's incredibly insecure about being a cryptid. He hates the way his cryptid body looks... the way it warps and frightens people, looking like he crawled right out of a nightmare, too much of some things and too little of others. 'Red' is his ideal body, a handsome badboy, the one who's surrounded by adoring humans. It's the only way he feels loveable.

He wants to be a person. He wants to be part of society, he wants to be loved like a human, that's why he constantly seeks out human flings and one night stands. To him, being in bed with someone signals that he's winning, and his act is convincing. He doesn't want Mc to ever know he's a cryptid, because in his eyes, nobody could ever love a thing like that.

Skull: He isn't good at acting like a person. He 'hides in his room' a lot, going out of his window at night to hunt and then returning to sleep through the day. At first, he just crushed on Mc from afar, silently following her around at night or peering through her window... but because of his feelings, because of her, he starts trying to be more humanoid.

He learns some words. He figures out how to eat human food. He practises 'smiling' in a mirror for hours, to make sure he doesn't look too frightening. And it can't be said that he isn't charming, a lot of his genuine struggles with acting like a person just come across as sweet-natured shyness or social anxiety. He pulls his hood over his face every time she smiles at him; a little because he's flustered, mostly because when he's flustered he loses control of his face and his features start shifting and melting in disturbing ways.

Mc likes him a lot. She's none the wiser that he's the reason she feels those chills running up her spine whenever she passes the woods.

[crushedsweets]

i feel like,,, possibly,,, lulu and jack would get along splendidly

i totally see it. i talk under the cut !

so, again, in my au lulu was killed in a hazing. she was buried in the slender forest, and some demonic entity brought her back, taking her eyes as payment. (still debating on if its zalgo still)

she found herself hanging around the abandoned hospital because thats where fog was, and thats the only place she could 'see'. if she feels the fog, she can feel where all the other particles are at, therefore making out shapes etc etc.

some days the fog reels back, and usually ann will keep her around, or the proxies will find her and scare her back where she's supposed to be. but eventually, they were busy, she got lost and kept walking and walking and walking and bumped into jack

jack died in a sacrifice after joining a university 'club'. his eyes were taken from him as part of the ritual. he sees through echolocation and thermal vision(?).

they'd kinda awkwardly talk and he can just Tell that lulu is one of the new cryptids the proxies keep in like guard dogs, something something demonic 6th sense , and it'd kinda take them both a minute to realize theyre both blind(mostly)

lulu is in a CONSTANT daze, all the fucking time she is in a fucking fog (get it..) . her last few weeks alive were spent drunk, barely managing to get to her lectures and absolutely not understanding shit, so she spends a good bit of time just thinking shes supposed to be in class. she's very fucking lost . and it breaks jacks heart

jack probably sees himself in lulu a lot, since they have oddly similar 'origin stories' in this au, and he'd gently guide her back to the hospital (once figuring out where she's supposed to be)

after finding out who she is, i could see him trying to go visit her more often. anns weird but she's not really attached to lulus hip so she's not always bugging them. there have been times where jack would bring his little radio and tapes and play audio books for her. lulus not really an academic person, she was only in university to appease her parents, but it's pleasant. she eventually gets him to start bringing other things, like music and clay and stuff.

i could see them getting close enough(or jack getting fond enough) to ask the proxies if lulu can visit his cabin, rather than the other way. toby and kate dont care, brians iffy, and tim is very against it (cuz lulu is a little unpredictable) . so soemtimes toby will bring lulu(for "supervision" lmfao) and they'll just kinda hang out. she doesnt need to eat but jack would make some food and it'd be nice

[pomefioredove]

please, PLEASE write a rollo x reader fic where rollo wakes up from a nightmare about his brother and where there to comfort him PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

let it be known that the only reason I started playing this game was because they added frollo. rollo is like a cryptid in the HoND fandom

summary: nightmares and comfort type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, established relationship?, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, not proofread, rollo vaguely implied to have ptsd because I do and am a scholar in trauma nightmares ^-^

There's a certain point at which bad dreams and reality melt together.

Where the line blurs, and you can't be sure where the nightmare ends and you begin. They so often feel one in the same.

Rollo is familiar with bad dreams.

At one point, he thought there would be a solution. Something to hold them back, to release him from their sticky grasp. He journaled, for a while, but all that brought him was grief.

It happens like clockwork.

Four or five nightmares in one rest, for one to two weeks, at the same time every year. He keeps track of them. How could he not?

They culminate on a certain day, one he dreads in and of itself, and then slowly, painfully die off, leaving him wounded and alone.

It's dreadful.

And it's worse that he knows exactly why they happen.

You had once asked him what keeps him up at night, as a sort of conversation starter when you were first getting to know each other. What a strange question to ask someone, and in such a light-hearted tone.

He told you he sees no use for excess sleep when he can be diligent, instead.

Sloth is a vice, he said. Detestable.

You seemed to accept that as an answer, much to his relief. The truth was far too ugly for someone as pure as you to shoulder. He was only protecting your feelings, after all. And perhaps his.

Rollo hoped, for your sake, that you wouldn't notice. He was still getting used to the idea of sleeping beside another person, and the very last thing he wanted was to burden you with all of what he is.

To put it plainly, he didn't want to scare you off.

The first few nights were easy enough. Nasty imagery wrapped up in otherwise normal dreams, those of which could hardly be considered nightmares.

He'd wake up in a cold sweat, and toss and turn until he could manage to fall back asleep, never stirring you.

This time is different.

He wakes, not quite jolting, but certainly thrashing himself back into the present moment like an animal caught in a trap.

His eyes snap open, and there's nothing but darkness, his breathing, and the uneasy feeling of his stomach. It takes a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings.

You're still asleep. Thankfully.

He liked to keep some distance between the two of you, anyway. Rollo had to ease himself into the idea of being physically close with someone without being utterly repulsed.

The only reason he'd entertained the idea in the first place was because it's you, you, pure and good, who would never do anything to discomfort him, you, who even now, sleeps like an angel in his bed.

There's something unclean about that thought, although it's not your doing.

Rollo gets up, careful not to disturb you, and paces around the room while he tries to get ahold of reality. He reminds himself of the date, the time, his full name, anything that will shake the lingering terror coursing through is body.

He does not cry. He hasn't since...

Well. Never mind, that.

Now is not the time to make a fuss. He's not a child, he's not fragile, he can handle his own nightmares without needing someone to tuck him back in.

The dream was so terrifyingly, disgustingly real, though.

The nightmares which aren't nightmares are the worst sorts of dreams, because he instantly feels silly for scaring himself over something so mundane, even if that looming sense of dread and fear still makes him feel ill.

This one was but a normal conversation, with...

...He didn't want to remember it.

The point was more so that it felt so utterly real that waking up like this, having it fall apart around him like the rotting pages of an old book, was like having his head dunked in freezing cold water repeatedly.

Not a pleasant feeling.

He paces, back and forth, in front of the now-dead fireplace, trying to regain his bearings.

He's quiet; he so often is; and yet, still, roused either by the sound of his footsteps or the heavy, uncomfortable feeling in the air, you wake.

The sound of your voice nearly scares him.

Rollo turns to you, eyes wide as you sit up, drawing your knees to your chest. "What?"

"I asked if you're okay," you repeat, turning to the space beside you to check the time. "It's two in the morning."

His answer is immediate, as calm as he can muster, although there's a faint crack in his voice on the last word. "I'm well. I was just thinking,"

"Thinking? Now?"

He nods, and turns back to the mantle. His arms are crossed over his chest, acting as a sort of armor, protecting him.

You tilt your head to the side. "Did you have a bad dream?"

He hates how perceptive you can be, sometimes. It takes him a moment to think of a suitable answer- is it worth telling you the truth?

"I have bad dreams all the time," you say. "Like... all the time. Weird ones, too. It's nothing to be embarrassed a-"

"I am not embarrassed," he snaps, whirling around on his heels to face you. His tone softens when he sees the perplexed expression on your face. "I was just trying to tire myself before returning to bed. I didn't want to disturb you."

You shake your head. "I wouldn't have minded if you did. I understand... do you want to talk about it?"

He's silent, looking away again, which is enough of an answer to you.

"Then will you at least come back to bed?"

Rollo supposes he should. He doesn't want to risk worrying you any further. That would only stir up more questions.

He settles himself in bed, lying flat on his back with his arms crossed over his chest, more cadaver than human. You always found that position so amusing, for whatever reason, and even now you can't contain a laugh.

"Are you cold? You're shaking,"

Damn it. He is. He hadn't even noticed... and though his tremors aren't from the temperature, he agrees with you anyway.

"Yes. It's rather cold tonight,"

You hum a small note of contemplation and inch closer to him. "May I?"

Rollo's face immediately turns red, although he can't help but indulge himself... just this once. For your sake, anyway.

He nods.

You come closer, resting your head on his shoulder and putting an arm around his waist in the most comfortable position you can manage while he's lying like this.

Your body is warm, soft, comforting... all things that would normally repulse him, but it's you...

He pats the back of your hand with one of his in a reassuring, though awkward gesture. As much as he expected to feel his heart pounding even harder at your closeness, there's something quite... safe about the embrace. He can't deny it.

"Good night," you murmur, already half-asleep.

He closes his eyes, allowing his body to relax... just the tiniest bit.

"Good night,"

[the-s1lly-corner]

Telling them you love them for the first time

Some tooth rotting fluff to make up for the angst last night!!

Shorter hcs cuz I'm EEPY, apologies for any OOC stuff <\3

Slenderman;

Hes good at reading you, so he already knew that you held at least some considerable amount of affection for him

And sometimes, inside your head, he'd tell you how much he adored you... but either of you ever said the L word

You'd think that an ancient forest cryptid would be prepared for such a word, and yet..

when you first said it, he visibly froze. For the first time since you've met him, he seemed to be.... lost

He didnt say anything, but that wasnt out of character. . He hardly spoke, even in your head

After a moment of processing, his body eased, and he simply. Pulled you close, with his tentacles. Still not saying a word

It was a rather bizarre experience, actually, especially considering he began to cacoon you in his tendrils

Definitely one that needs to get used to it, but doesnt seem to take it negatively

Please hes still learning human romance

Splendorman;

Unlike his brother, Splendor has a better grasp of what human romance is like, what with him mingling with people all the time

Hes much more vocal, too, so when you finally say the three words..

He squeals after processing what you said, before giggling, and beginning to bounce on his heels

He doesnt care if hes being... embarrassing? Hyper? Giddy?

Hes over the moon, scoops you up if he knows you'd be comfortable with it-

-boundaries are important!

Hes giddy for the rest of the day

No

Hes giddy for the rest of the week

Also admits he loves you as well, probably says it everyday at least once tbh

Laughing Jack;

Comically stops in the middle of whatever he was doing; even if he has to break the laws of physics (clown logic)

Eyes you for a minutes

Snorts

"Aww! I love ya too toots!" Stretches his arm over, likely across the room, to lightly pap your cheek before snapping his arm back into place

Easily one of the most chill about it

But you can see a new pep in his step afterwards and his giggling seems to ramp up

Sorry his is so short but I really think this is all Jack would react with 😭😭

Eyeless Jack;

Given how I usually write for him, you can bet that his reaction will be...

Well he just doesnt expect it, ever. He truly thinks that hes unlovable, given that whole "hey I'm turning into a man eating monster" thing

So when you say it, hes stunned for a few seconds like slender was. Dead quiet for another couple of seconds

Rather than holding you, though, he just asks why

I mean you could have gone out with anyone, you could have left and never came back; he was certain you would eventually

But this..

Complicates with his current doubts..

He'll ask you if you meant it, too

Despite the... initial response, with the denial, his behavior around you seems to become more relaxed

Let's loose, really

Well not totally; it's a process!

He'll ask you for reassurance a fair number of times

Masky;

Masky already shows wordless affections a lot

From cheesy gifts like flowers and (stolen) treats

To..

Sitting at the foot of your bed watching you sleep at night

Hey hes protecting you!

Realizing that I kinda write him like a stray cat

Gives you birds and rats every morning/j

No but back on track, you two are already fairly affectionate to one another in your own quirky ways

He'll never say the words verbally, as I personally hc he doesn't talk (if he does, its RARE), but he'll sure as hell express it in his own ways

He doesn't seem phased when you say it

You mean to tell him that anytime you reciprocated his kind gestures that wasnt you letting him know you love him?

You notice his gift giving seems to pick up

Otherwise, nothing seems to change

.....he does seem more open to physical affection.... more likely to hold and cuddle you..... that totally isnt related...... totally......

Hoodie;

Very similar to masky but his way of affection is more.... not watching you sleep

He was already open to physical affection, he cant seem to keep his hands off you

Now that just be my way of writing brian bleeding into how I write hoodie

Which

Considering they're kinda... the same person(?), it makes sense that some mannerisms would overlap

His back straightens up and he seems to.. brighten up when you say it though

He points to himself, and you repeat the phrase

He'll sign it back, and the two of you just

Carry on

Very anticlimactic, but I also feel its realistic in a way; you both already love each other and know it, saying it out loud doesnt really change a thing if its already a clear truth; at least for Hoodie

[gabessquishytum]

Ive been lurking for a long time just eating other peoples ideas but i cant get over sleazy pickup artist hob having this religious pussy experience from this weird goth he met at a bar just standing there silently like a mannequin. I would love it if dream was only this unearthly beauty to HOB. Literally NOBODY ELSE gets why this crying wet cat bewitched him body and soul... hob is a total conman on the internet manosphere bc he looks like Alpha Male and he just says some bullshit he makes up on the fly and starts pyramid schemes. He stumbles out of that hookup dazed and confused but feeling like he needs to buy a ring and perhaps commission a golden statue. Hes Different after. Like his accounts drop off activity for a good long while as he tries so desperately to find this Weird Fucking Guy hes not quite sure was human at this point and when people start noticing what hes doing hes an absolute laughing stock but hes too busy pulling all nighters red strings on the corkboard to care hes like an obsessed mad scientist in a monster movie. He goes to that bar EVERY NIGHT. For 100 days. Then his magnificent stranger walks back in and orders a glass of milk at the bar and hob is ready to simp for the rest of his fucking LIFE. Morpheus is this guys Actual Name and hob realizes he could have just like,, looked him up online if he believed morpheus when he told him the next morning then left while hob was in the shower. But dream shares that he doesn't have social media. Or a computer. Or a phone. He pulls out this ancient flip phone held together with scotch tape and willpower so hob can enter his number. He types with one index finger on hobs screen to enter his own. Hob is gifted his presence for another night of insane sex where he almost dies like twice and comes more times in a row than he has in his life. Dream is completely unaffected by literally any media attention and No One Gets The Appeal. Hes like a cryptid and everyone knows who HOB is seemingly BUT dream and he really doesnt care about any of the questions he gets. Usually just responds with some shit like "you could be learning a new hobby right now. Try oil painting, perhaps the clarinet." Its not even beer goggles bc hob is following after this freak like a puppy in the middle of the afternoon wearing all black and a long jacket in August while he picks out the specific peanuts from a big barrel he would like to feed the birds at the park today.

-🔪

Yeah I absolutely love the idea that Dream is a weird skinny gremlin to EVERYONE. Except for Hob. Hob thinks he's an angel, a beautiful ethereal creature, Dream has literally saved Hob’s soul from the torments of cringey redpill internet content. Hob walks around with heart eyes 24/7, basically waits on Dream hand and foot. He doesn't give a shit if he gets ripped on online - he doesn't go online anymore, he's way too busy staring at the way the light filters into Dream’s eyes.

He's so down bad for Dream’s pussy it's almost comedic. He'll get on his knees and bed to be allowed just a sniff, just a moment with his nose between Dream’s legs. He'd buy Dream’s bath water but he's so lucky he doesn't even have to!!! He gets it for free!!!

All this to say: they're both freaks, no body gets why they're Like That but true love finds a way!

[cuubism]

I have been absolutely loving Bookstore Cryptid Dream! Offline life got rough for a bit there, but this little universe never failed to make my heart happy. Thank you - and I hope you're planning on more!

i've indeed had one in my drafts so i finished it up for you :)

--

Hob has been waiting with equal parts anticipation and trepidation to find out exactly what ideas Dream will pull from his romance novels. He still hasn't figured out why he picked romance novels as his manuals. Maybe he needs his sex positions to have narratives. Maybe he's into roleplay. God.

But Hob doesn't get to find out.

He's been busy for a few days--new term at the local uni starting up means the cafe's suddenly gotten busier--and while Dream's popped in and out a few times, they haven't had the chance to spend much time together. It's probably good, Hob tries to convince himself. Puts the brakes on things, just a little.

But when he finally gets a break, hands the reins over to his staff for an evening, he heads to The Library. Even if Dream is busy with his own tasks, Hob's content to just sit in his space. Listen to his stories. It's not something the busy cafe environment usually allows, but The Library is like an alternate world, cool, quiet, and timeless.

Hob strides up the steps and opens The Library door.

And there's nothing inside.

It takes several moments for his tired brain to comprehend what he's looking at, and several more for him to decide that no, he's not dreaming. He steps through the doorway into a dim, empty room, old wood-paneled walls and dust gathering in the corners, and no infinite winding paths of shelves like in Dream's bookshop. Just a shell.

Hob presses his palm to the wall. It's cool, and smooth, and very much real. Not some mad hallucination of his, this empty room.

Blinking hard, Hob steps back outside, closes the door again, as if that might change things. Opens it again. Same room. Does it again. Same room. He calls out into the empty bowels of the once-Library: "Dream!"

No answer, of course.

Hob had known that The Library had a sort of magic to it. But just vanishing into thin air...

And Dream wouldn't...

...would he?

Hob spins in place on the stoop, looking out on the darkened street which suddenly feels so much more eerie. He steps down to the road in a daze, looking around as if The Library might suddenly appear in another doorway. Resists the urge to yell Dream's name into the darkness.

And then, well, fuck it. "Dream!" he calls. All that echoes back to him is his own voice.

Hob sits down on the stoop, defeated. If he hadn't seen Dream just yesterday, kissed him on his way out of the cafe not twenty-four hours ago, he really might have started to think he'd hallucinated all of this. Invented someone he'd wanted to know.

But he didn't invent Dream, he swears he didn't--so then where is he?

Hob doesn't sleep much that night. He doesn't do much of anything else, either--it's not like Dream left a note to track him down, or any evidence of his existence. It's not like Hob can put up missing person posters: have you seen this bookshop? Or force it to reappear.

He's having a very sleep-deprived, very over-caffeinated morning shift in the cafe, contemplating how long one's not-quite-human not-quite-boyfriend needs to be not-quite-missing before it's reasonable to start finding out which parts of London harbor demons and sorcerers--when a man he's never seen before stops at the counter, hands folded before him, and says, "Excuse me, but do you know if there's a bookshop around here?"

Hob has never seen anyone else ever go into The Library or even acknowledge its existence, and Hob's anxiety is so high that he almost leaps over the counter to grab this man by the collar and demand, what do you know about Dream?! Fortunately he belays that impulse. This stranger really does look almost laughably harmless and definitely not like a demon or sorcerer, not that Hob's seen one--and getting arrested for assault is not going to help anything.

"I tried the door," continues the stranger, as Hob just keeps staring at him, conflicted, "only, well. It seems to have vanished."

Well, at least Hob's not hallucinating. Not that a disappearing bookstore is helpful to his sanity.

After what was surely a conspicuously long silence, though his visitor just waits patiently, Hob says, "Have... you been there before?" He feels weirdly defensive of The Library, even if it's currently AWOL. He doesn't know if he wants random people to be able to find Dream.

Or maybe that's just jealousy.

"Oh, no, this is my first time coming this way," says the man, apologetically. "I'm just looking for a certain book."

Damn odd timing for it.

Hob comes out from behind the counter and waves him over to a table. He should probably get some tea. Proper hospitality and all. But he's too worked up and way too sleep-deprived.

His guest sits down primly at the table as Hob slouches against the back of his own seat. "Sorry," Hob finally says, "if I'm--" he waves a vague hand. "Dream's had trouble before, that's all." He holds out his hand to his guest. "Hob."

The man shakes his hand. "Hm. A pleasure. I am Aziraphale. To any associate of--" he tastes the name, "Dream's, that is."

It's interesting that The Library's reputation carries further than knowledge of Dream himself, despite how deeply Dream seems to be tied to the shop.

"Is it meant to be there, then?" asks Aziraphale hopefully. "I wouldn't blame him for moving around to protect the collection; I certainly wouldn't want all and sundry picking through the shelves!" He shudders. "Though I was hoping to find that book."

Hob doesn't bother asking what book. Whatever it is, Dream will certainly have it. What's more important is--

"'Moving around?' Do you know how?" And then, realizing if he wants a chance at info he's going to need to offer some of his own, adds, "You just missed him, it's only today that The Library's been... gone."

"Oh, dear," says Aziraphale, now looking troubled.

"Not sure what pointed you towards this place, but if you've heard anything..." Hob continues, "Dream is my--" what is Dream, anyway? They haven't established it, "...friend."

Looking contemplative, Aziraphale says, "Well it is odd timing, now that you mention it, because--"

That's when the door to The Library flies open.

A lanky man comes hurtling down the steps, limbs akimbo, yelling something over his shoulder that Hob can't hear from within the cafe. "Oh dear," says Aziraphale again, with a mix of concern and consternation. "Crowley!"

Dream storms out of the doorway next, expression thunderous, his hair sticking up in all directions like he'd been struck by lightning. That has Hob lurching to his feet, which Aziraphale does as well, and they both rush outside, just in time to hear--

"Look, it's just one silly book, okay?" The unfamiliar man--Crowley, presumably--says, stopping in the middle of the road and turning towards Dream. "Don't overreact."

Dream is, in fact, clutching a singular heavy book, and looks like he's just about to hurl it, except that Dream would never do something so undignified as that, Hob thinks.

Dream hurls the book at Crowley.

Or not.

Crowley catches it against his chest, stumbling back with the weight. "I do not accept," spits Dream, each word the strike of a nail, "surreptitious rummaging in my library."

"Oh come on," says Crowley, tossing the book to Aziraphale, who's just caught up to him and who catches it with a surprised little umph! sound. Crowley makes a shooing sort of go on, run gesture to Aziraphale, which he doesn't heed. "It's not like I was going to burn the place down. You're just prejudiced against demons."

"I am prejudiced against thieves," hisses Dream. Hob finally reaches his side before he can throw another book or something, lays a hand on Dream's arm. Though all he's really thinking is, demons?!

"Crowley," Aziraphale admonishes. "Please tell me you did not." He finally looks at the cover of the book, and gasps. "Crowley."

Crowley shrugs. "You wanted it, he had it."

Hob frowns, confused. "You don't need to steal from The Library. It's not a museum. Just go in and buy it." Not that Hob's ever actually paid for any of Dream's books.

Both Crowley and Aziraphale turn to him. "One could not simply give away such an artifact," says Aziraphale, caressing the book's leatherbound cover.

"Least not for a steep price," says Crowley, which evidently justifies his trying to swipe it. "I won't be beholden to the likes of you." He points at Dream.

Dream looks affronted. "Now who is prejudiced?"

"Let's back up," Hob says, unsure how he became the voice of reason here. He still has a hand wrapped around Dream's arm, it's grounding after the way Dream had just vanished on him. "What happened? Dream-- I tried to come over and you were just gone." The empty room past The Library doorway is going to continue to be nightmare fuel.

Dream makes an apologetic little sound. "I apologize. I closed all access to The Library for its protection. As it turned out, my assessment of the threat was overstated." He glares at Crowley and adds, darkly, "I thought you were from the school board. Breaking in in the dead of night like so."

Hob momentarily gets stuck on the fact that Dream considers the local school board a greater threat than an actual demon from hell.

"Which," Dream continues, "was utterly unnecessary. You could have simply come to The Library as a visitor and sought out what you were looking for. It would have been granted."

"Oh, so I was just supposed to know you actually sell your books?"

"The books will find their rightful recipients," Dream says stiffly.

"Crowley, you have been very rude," says Aziraphale, though he hasn't given up the book, "I think you should apologize."

"Eh," says Crowley, waving this off. Hob supposes it wouldn't really be given to demons to apologize for things. "You apologize if you really want to."

Aziraphale turns to Dream with a sigh. "I am sorry for my companion's behavior. And... grateful for the book."

Dream nods solemnly at him. It seems his ire does not extend to Aziraphale.

Crowley leans back on his heels, closer to Aziraphale. "Mayyybee we should go now."

Aziraphale nods. "Quite." He tips his head at Dream, and then at Hob. "Thank you for your hospitality, Hob."

Then he turns and hurries away, Crowley slinking along beside him. As they leave, Hob hears Aziraphale admonish, "Do you know how few booksellers there are with truly rare volumes? We cannot afford to make such enemies."

"Yeah, you're welcome, angel."

"...Thank you."

Hob shakes his head in bemusement and turns back to Dream. He takes both of Dream's arms in his hands now, holding onto him, looking him over. Unable to fully vanish the lingering panic of The Library just being gone. "Are you alright? I was... worried. When you disappeared."

"I am annoyed," Dream huffs, like it's a greater point of suffering than any actual injury. Then he leans in close to Hob, pressing a hand to his chest. "I apologize. I did not intend to cause you distress. I had to shut the doors rather quickly, but I hoped to resolve the issue before you had cause to visit The Library."

"It's alright, love. I'm just glad you're okay." He kisses Dream, tentative for how new this all still is. Tastes lightning on his lips. Dream hums with pleasure.

When they pull apart, Hob wraps an arm around Dream's back, starts leading him back towards the cafe, or perhaps just to Hob's flat above. Tea solves everything. "So. The school board, eh?"

Dream sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "They are enthusiastic about banning books."

Hob pulls him against his side, kisses his temple. "Dream against the world."

Dream grumbles, but leans his head on Hob's shoulder, and despite the many strange things of today Hob is going to have to internalize, he feels all soft inside at the gesture.

"Don't worry," he says, "next time your many enemies come calling, just yell and I'll create a diversion."

"And be waiting with tea after I've dealt with them?"

"Got it in one."

As they reach the door to the cafe, Dream turns his head to kiss Hob's shoulder. "You are good to me, Hob Gadling."

And Hob will keep being so. Even when the next strange thing happens.

[tblsomedoodles]

My Leo and Mikey for FW's good future.

(part 2 of 3 that i promised (oof) like 2 weeks ago. Yeah, it's been chaotic on my end.) (Donnie and Jennika can be found here.) (i'm still working on raph. Maybe by friday)

edit: Raph is here

I'm exhausted do multiple pet shenanigans so I'm posting this instead of waiting. (I'll do asks tomorrow. Tired)

again, all info under the cut

Leo is, like Donnie, 24 by the time they find Raph's bitties. He goes to college part time b/c he has other things he wants to be doing but also is slowly working towards getting into Mystic medical school. As much as Mama wants him to take over the nexus and hotel at some point, he'd really rather become a doctor like Leatherhead.

By now he's mostly gotten past his fear of medical procedures, though he's still not a fan of being treated by anyone except himself. There are a few things that still set him off (Like Bishop's genetics lab) but usually he's pretty good now.

At this point he's running the Battle Nexus's medical wing (not exactly practicing in it b/c he's not legally allowed, but he does run it.) And is in charge of the human side of the Nexus hotel (with use of a cloaking broach.) (Mikey helps but Leo's the face of it now.)

And Mikey! Mikey's 23. He went head first into art and mystics and just didn't look back. The dude has had art shows in both the hidden city and new york (though he never shows up to the nyc ones in person. It makes him a bit of a local cryptid as far as the art community goes lol.)

He's in college for art and has a nice little following online as well. Mostly for original work, but he does post jupiter jim fanart sometimes that is generally well liked. (he used to post Lou Jitsu fanart too, but the fandom was just too horny for his dad for him to be comfortable continuing doing so.)

His mystics are very powerful at this point. Probably more powerful than his apocalypse self was at that age (or ever) due to having proper access to training and food. His primary eyes glow gold almost constantly as a result of his extra mystic use, which he kind of likes since they used to be an amber color before his mutation.

I think that's about it.

[triysn]

Thinking about celebrity trio again.

Random thoughts about how different Rex’s world is from the others, bc while both Zak and Ben’s world is fairly ‘normal’ in that attacks and disasters are still considered a break from the norm (at least in the earlier series for Ben), Rex’s world is in it. They are actively having the worst half-decade in human history, apocalypse and all. Plus, while the others’ threats are external (ie aliens and cryptids, mostly), Rex’s world’s fire is coming from inside the house.

That really affects the tone of each show, obviously, but i was thinking about how this would appear in each protagonist.

For example, I think that Rex would be really good at crowd control and comforting civilians. He's used to living in a climate of fear and suspicion, and he usually has an active hand in resolving whatever EVO-related disaster is going on. We've already seen a little of this in the show, but it would really show as Rex matures and slows down a little, rather than just focusing on the action and curing part of it. People in his world are terrified, and the EVOs he cures are someone's family or friends, if not just a living, breathing, feeling person/animal. With how much he cares about people in general, I think he'd be naturally given to try and comfort them in any sort of crisis. Plus, he's pretty dependable when he isn't goofing off. People in his world already know him as the Cure, so that helps.

Ben, on the other hand, is flashier and more defeat-the-villain kinda guy, which makes sense because his villain attacks don't directly involve civilians unless they're being actively targeted (if that makes sense). He clearly has a name for property damage etc., even if he does get the job done in the end. I think people in his world would see him more as a celebrity-type hero that's better to look at from afar. He would find it easier to make friends with civilians, or give out autographs, than comfort them probably.

Zak is a whole other story because he doesn't even interact with civilians most of the time lol. It's in his job description to avoid them. But if they get involved in some cryptid-related stuff, like that one episode with the eye-stealing monkey, he'd be able to manage if he focused on the cryptid aspect of it and probably come off as someone who knows what they were doing and still put people at ease. He's pretty good at being friendly in general because of the variety of people he meets while travelling, but in terms of civilian crisis management, he doesn't have much experience.

[total-drama-brainrot]

for that ‘noah is brought back as an assistant after getting himself eliminated’ idea i think noah should just stop trying to tiptoe around anyone after one day. he puts in one (1) day of effort and then just gives up.

“??? noah???”

“who. im not noah. ive never even heard of a noah.” (has changed his shirts and is wearing sunglasses thats all) (no effort to hide his identity)

Noah puts in a genuine effort to remain undetected for a good while (let's say a week or two) after being whisked away back to Camp Wawanakwa, since he really doesn't want to deal with the idiots he worked so hard to escape from so soon, but it's surprisingly difficult to keep himself just indistinct enough to remain under their radar without making himself look suspicious- either to the contestants themselves or to his newfound co-workers.

Maybe acting like a skittish deer every time one of the campers was around was a bit shady, but could you blame him? Anyone else in his position would be wary of discovery too. No one wants to be put on blast on international TV for the consequences of their actions. Thankfully the other interns are polite enough not to comment when he absconds at the smallest signs of his past competitors.

It doesn't help that the eliminated contestants have started to notice that Noah isn't at the Playa with the rest of them. None of them have asked about him yet, but there's a distinct air of concern at the resort every time someone comments about him- or the lack of him.

So, needless to say, Noah's got quite the reputation as a bit of a cryptid among the cast. Which is fine, he can play into that if it means none of them figure out he's been forcibly employed under their sadistic host. Noah goes out of his way to disguise himself behind different outfits, altered hairstyles and a pair of mirrored shades, and straightens his posture into something less lazy and more 'professional' when he's on the clock; it's impressive how much a change in wardrobe and demeanour can disguise someone, just look at Clark Kent. He essentially becomes a ghost to the cast, to the point that a lot of them begin to doubt he was even real and not a mass hallucination.

(Noah encourages the rest of the interns to play into that misconception, mostly because he finds it funny but also because it would aid him in his effort to remain undetected.)

But the trickery soon becomes more hassle than it's worth; Noah's about 80% certain he could do his job in the same outfit he'd worn on the island and not a single person would bat an eye, let alone recognise him. That's the power of being a wallflower- he's fairly unassuming and able to blend into the background. It's his confidence in his lack of notability that leads to him to becoming complacent.

In fact he makes a game out of it, if only to curb the boredom of his job. He goes from spy-level subterfuge to the barest minimum of a disguise; at one point he just slaps on a fake moustache and his mirrored sunglasses and calls it a day. No one notices. This only serves to encourage his blasé attitude towards his discovery- the cast are way too oblivious to notice him, after all.

Which is why Noah's inevitably discovered when he delivers a coffee to Chris on-set dressed in his usual outfit, the only attempt at a disguise being a haphazardly thrown on blonde wig. (Namely, the same wig Courtney later uses in Action.)

"Is that Noah?"

Comes a disbelieving outburst from the cast. Noah isn't sure who said it, but the statement draws attention onto him which is the last thing he wants.

He has to divert suspicion quickly before it's too late.

"No, this is Patrick."

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for @merryrogue; cryptid Batman and NOT-cryptid Tim.

Normal birds dance, or offer food, or preen each other, Tim thinks. Like–for their courtship behaviors, he means.

Tim considers trying to convince Superboy to let him run his clawed gauntlets through his hair and feels the urge to just go lay down for a week or ten. Or twenty. Or–forever, maybe. Just all of forever. Forever would be good, right now.

He'd die of even worse embarrassment dancing with him, he's sure, though maybe, like . . . they could go get Batburger together or something? Just like . . . normal people, kinda?

Right. Yeah. The "normal" thing. That's what Robin would do.

God, please don't make him have to dance to convince Superboy he's reciprocating this whole diamond-making situation. Tim cannot dance and he is not about to learn. Well–he can waltz, technically. Very, very badly, though. There is absolutely no way that his waltzing skills are going to make Superboy think he's into him. Actually, they might just chase him off altogether.

[sofiiel]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲: 𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐝!𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Part 2 ⇢

Summary: In which you stumbled upon Cryptid!Eddie cowering in an alleyway one chilly autumn night in Hawkins, Indiana. And make a new friend.

Warnings: Bittersweet fluffy friends. Angst in the form of sad, not so little guy. Cheesiness. DemoEddie.

A/n: I may make a slowly updated friends to lovers series out of this, as I'm fond of their interactions. I'm certainly thinking of writing this from Eddie's pov. Also, I am done with summer so here it's fall 🧡

It's a particularly cold autumn night as you empty the trash from the bakery into the dumpster.

You're new to Hawkins, and you've heard all the strange stories. Though, you thought it was all small town hysteria and conspiracy theories. But the town was now a tourist destination. And a perfect place to open your first business.

You'd had a busy grand opening and your mind is still thinking over the day when you hear a startled yelp from inside the large trashcan.

You stumbled back as a dark figure leaps out and darts into the shadows. A strange high-pitched whine following the sound of scrapping.

Was it a dog?

Pulling your coat around you tighter, you venture to investigate, carefully.

"Stay back..." A raspy voice calls out from the corner. A large wisp of breath floating towards you.

Your feet stop moving, was it the dog's owner? Something wasn't adding up.

"Sir, if you need food for your dog, I have dog treats inside if-"

A distorted laughter seeps from the shadows, it turns into a spine-chilling whinny. If a whistling wind could chortle.

"Please just...go away." said the voice.

He didn't sound like he was in good shape, and you ponder calling the police.

"Hold on, I'll be back, I'm just going to call and get you some help. You don't sound well, sir-"

"Don't do that!" it bellowed. The cry knocks you off your feet, the force behind and it and something else…

You wince, glass shards stuck in your palm. You have little time to worry about it, however, as you feel a thick, warm liquid seep out of your ear.

His yowl felt like standing too near a train whistle.

You sat among the scattered leaves of the large oak tree above your shop, trying to stop the fear racing in your chest.

Pressing a finger to your ear, you examine the blood.

A moan of regret comes from the shadows, "I tried to warn you. Please leave." it says.

Something in the way its words hit your core, sways your fear into an odd curiosity.

"He sounds sad." You find yourself thinking.

One thing was obvious, that cry that pierced your ears, would have hurt any canine to the point of whimpering. His dog was either deaf, or there was never a dog to begin with.

"But could a man hop out of a dumpster with such speed?" you ponder.

Getting to your feet, you hear shuffling in the corner. It's extremely late and Hawkins has gone to bed. In the sleepy quiet, all small sounds are magnified. The same was true to the tiny hiss of pain in the corner.

"Are you hurt?" You question, only to be answered by a hushed growl.

You bit your lip and glance away. "Listen, I won't call the police, but at least let me help." you offer.

He says nothing, but you can hear him slink further into his corner.

"I won't come back there, I promise. I'm just going to bring you a blanket, my first aid kit and maybe something warm to drink?" you say.

He doesn't respond, but he'd made himself perfectly clear any time he'd disagreed with your actions.

"Ok, I'll be right back." you murmur, whisking away to the back door of your shop.

Closing the cold out behind you, you lean against the door and exhale. Just a moment to collect yourself. However, you still had little time to squander.

You take the old lift to your studio above and rummage through your trundle drawers for your extra blanket. Moving about as fast as you are able, you pop a cup of hot chocolate into the microwave.

From your bed came a dry 'mrow' from your calico devon rex.

"Not now Toad, I'll give you your snack later, I promise." you tell her as her green eyes square on you.

At the sound of the 'ding' with blanket and paper cup in hand, you head back down.

In a small amount of time, the wind decided to waken. Opening the back door, you are met with the biting breeze.

There's a slight gasp and a great commotion.

"Shit, fuck...damn it..." a string of soft curses follows the noise of hit metal and pavement.

"A-are you ok? I did say I'd be right back." you call to him. Blanket thrown over your shoulder and cup in hand.

You feel as though someone's watching you with a weighty gaze.

Quietly, you move forward and set the cup on the ground.

"I kinda don't want to lay your blanket down on the cold ground. So, I'll just hold it out to you?" your statement comes out as a question.

He offered no objections, only -

"Could you," he lulled carefully, "possibly look away."

You nod and turn your head, shutting your eyes. Scraping against the concrete tickles your ears.

Briefly against your fingertips, a cold pointed sensation brushes against your skin. The shivering touch stands out even against the frosty night air.

You shut your eyes tighter at the swooshing of the blanket.

More scraping, he must be going for the cup. But why that sound? What's moving along the ground?

Curiosity won't leave you be, and you dare to take a peek.

Your head slowly turns as your eyes widen gradually. Your lips tremble as they part, and your hand goes to silence a gasp.

The man kneeling before you, blanket draped over his shoulders, hardly looked like a man at all.

Long shaggy curls hid his face, lanky arms twice the length of any natural anatomy were thin but strictly muscle. What one would expect to see if you pulled away one's skin.

Hands the length of feet grasped the cup, spindly taloned fingers curling over one another.

If he stood he would be a tower, a gangly frightening tower.

But what shocked you the most was the oddly elegant webbing around his arms.

"Wings." you exhaled.

The creature who'd been happily slurping the chocolate looked up at you with a start.

He was the monster, and yet he was the one who looked terrified. While his body shivered from the cold, fear had him frozen in place.

Dark eyes slowly filled with water, they shimmered under the light of the crescent moon.

You should have been running, you have screamed and called for help. Though somehow in that alley, looking into the face of this creature, you felt as if you were the threat.

Moving carefully, you lower yourself as much as possible.

"You're ok." you tell him. You take your words slowly and make sure to meet his eye.

"I won't hurt you, if you won't hurt me. Deal?" you ask.

He watches you in wonder but manages to nod his head.

Looking over your shoulder, you glance at the door. It probably wasn't wise to bring a monster into your business. It was probably twice as ridiculous when said business was also your home.

With a sigh, you turned back to him and managed a smile. You offered out your hand.

"Come on, You'll freeze to death out here, and you missed the grand opening today. We gave away free finger sandwiches and soup." you tell him.

He blinks several times, his gaze tells you he thinks you're a little looney. However, his eyes fall to your hand, it's in his eyes that he wants to take it.

You wait patiently and twinkle your fingers.

"Well come on, when's the last time you had a nice hot meal, hmm?" you tempt him.

A strangled chuckle chokes out from his throat, droplets of water now coating his eyelashes. He shook his head no, but the weight in your palm and the fingers curled tightly around your hand whispered, "please."

You look on him softly and give the hand dwarfing your own a gentle shake. "Very well then, come on." you hum.

"My name is ____, I hope you'll enjoy Lazy Pot's signature soup." You continue to converse with him, if only to put him at ease. That look on his face left a sour feeling in your gut.

"You're nuts." He murmured.

"I get that a lot." you shrug. Had you turned around, his height may have stunned you.

You lead him to the door, standing in the entryway, when his feet come to a halt. With his hand still gripped onto yours, dead weight pulls you back.

You turn to him with your question silently lingering on your face.

He didn't have to voice his answer.

"I promise, I'm probably the scariest thing about this building." you tell him. His eyes which had been stuck on the door look down to his clawed feet.

He awkwardly raised one digileg and wiped his large foot against the mat.

You weren't going to correct him, for fear you'd scar him off. Waiting for the creature to wipe his feet and ducking to clear the entryway, take his first steps into the door.

What struck you with an uncomfortable tingle down your spin was a red, swollen wound around his right ankle.

The faint sweet and savory smells that hovered in the shop seemed to be luring him in as he gave his lips a lick. One small step at a time, it took a while before he'd made it completely through the door.

"May I close the door now?" You ask.

He gives an absent nod, eyes scanning his new surroundings with a twinkle.

Moving slowly, you closed the door.

With the curtains drawn shut, you watched in wonder while the creature plowed through plates of finger sandwiches, and his third bowl of soup.

Your eyes followed the twined tail that swished about the ground like a cluster of roots.

"How'd I miss that?" you think to yourself.

If it wasn't all so peculiar, you might have laughed. He was hardly frightening, cocooned in his blanket, gobbling down spoonfuls of soup like a child eating all his most favorite food.

With a release of breath, you lean back in your chair, finally able to relax.

The creature came to a realized halt, and with timid eyes glanced up at you. You flashed him a smile.

He reaches his finger out towards the plate piled in sandwiches, "You don't want anything?" He asked between slurps.

Your eyes crease into a smile of their own, "thank you, but those are all yours. I don't think I've ever seen someone enjoy my food this much, please help yourself." You urge.

For a moment you could have sworn you saw red tint his cheeks.

He wiped his mouth with the bend of his wrist and looked away from your eyes.

"Thank you." He murmured quietly.

"No, thank you, I think you've given me the best wordless review I've ever received." you chimed.

Your brows knit with concern as you move to leave the table.

Before you could blind, a hand snatched your arm, a trembling grip held to you.

"I'm just going back to the kitchens, there's a first aid kit back there. Your ankle is hurt." you explain in a slow calm.

His hands ease back, fingers uncurling from your wrists.

"Sorry." he whispers.

"It's fine. I'll be back." you say this, but you can still feel a worried gaze watching as you go.

It was almost uncomfortably quiet while he allowed you to clean and wrap his leg. The food was gone, and he now sipped on a bottle of water.

But you could feel those eyes on you.

"Do you have a name?" you ask him, desperate for sound beyond the ticking of the wall clock.

"I-" his words caught as if trying to remember.

You glance up at him, his eyes wide.

"It's been a long time since I needed to know my own name." he confessed.

"Is it Joe? You look like a Joe." You tease.

The creature shook his head.

"Billy?" You keep up, with a snap of your fingers you grin, "Tom, that's it for sure."

His eyes stay on you before a hint of a smile comes to his face.

"Name's Eddie." he says.

"Well Eddie, I'm glad I found you when I did," you hummed, listening as the wind gave a howl.

You move away, finished with treating his wound. "Where are you from?"

He scoffs, "Hawkins." he said.

"Do you have a home? Family? Others like-"

You swallow your words as Eddie flinched.

"Are there no others like you?" you ask softly.

"No, I came back....wrong." he whispered, lifting his hands so that he might look at them. Eddie gave his fingers a wiggle, his claws clacking together.

It may have been better to change the subject. "What happened to your leg?"

"Bear trap, spent too much time around the local farms." Eddie uttered quickly under his breath.

"Bear trap!" you nearly shout.

Eddie shrugged, "it's happened before." he spoke, eyes wandering between his hands and yours.

You had so many questions. How'd something as large as himself hide for others? It couldn't have been easy.

Was he born this way? If so, why were there none like him?

In the back of your mind, the rumors about the town echoed.

Slowly Eddie pushed out of his seat, "Thank you, ____. I'll hit the roa-"

A loud crack was followed by the delicate tinkling of glass shards against the wood floors.

You duck as you hear cackling and several more crashes.

"Welcome to Hell! Enjoy your grand opening! Freak!" voices shout amongst the laughter.

Your eyes fall on the brick and stones laying on your shop floor.

Headlights blinding both you and Eddie as they brightened before the tire's squealed.

The shop became dark and silence took over once again. The holes in the glass welcoming in the cold wind, insult to injury.

In that silence, you lingered, until it felt safe to move. You rose up and glared at the brick. "It's the same everywhere I go." you murmured.

Eddie turned to you with a brow raised.

You sigh, "I don't know if you have access to news or papers. But I'm kind of infamous by way of an unhinged celebrity dad. He tried to blow up Area 51. Said they were hiding a hell gate. Of course, that drags his novelist chef child into the pits as well." you muttered.

"it's stupid." you shrugged, going to fetch the broom.

Eddie's eyes followed you. "hell gate?" he asked.

"Like it said, it's stupid." you called back to him.

Eddie shook his head as if clearing his thoughts or shaking away a bad memory. His eyes going to the window.

"I can go get them, if you'd like." he offered you, voice hollow.

You loot at him steadily, "are you offering because you think that's what a monster ought to do?" You ask.

Eddie turns towards you with clumsy feet, his head tilts a little.

"I mean, at least I'd be good for something like this." he said with a shrug.

Your eyes thinned at him. "You say that like you weren't always...like, that."

"I wasn't," Eddie then chuckled, "alright, I may have always had this ugly mug." he said circling his face.

You frowned a little at his disparaging smile.

"But I wasn't always like this. It kind of just..." Eddie's words faded.

You waited, but knew he had little intentions of finishing that statement.

Eddie glanced around, twiddling his long fingers. "So um," he lulled sucking in his lips, "y-you got another broom. I can help with this." He offered.

You found yourself blinking and, wordless as you watched him, fidget about. The sight of the bashful creature was certainly something to see.

His words crept out from his lips quietly, "or, you know, I can just leave."

Your eyes brows creased as you watched him, his body seemed to turn away from the door naturally. That obscure tail of his wrapping around his feet. Eddie's entirety was trying to fit into the tiny place where he stood.

Saying nothing, you walk to him, tilting your head back to look up at him. Eddie's eyes almost fret full as he waited for you to speak, they wouldn't hold your gaze as he shied them away.

"I'll le-" Eddie gasped silently, his hands naturally gripping the broomstick you'd offered him.

For a moment, he looked at you with eyes so wide you feared they'd roll out from the sockets.

You give him a smile, "I'll go get the other broom." as you turn away from him, you manage to catch a glimpse of a small smile. Both of Eddie's hands clutched the broom stick tightly.

After cleaning up and making Eddie some more soup in thanks, You studied him. "What am I going to do with you?" you pondered.

Eddie clanged his spoon against his bowl, any minute now he'd announce he should leave again. But still his movements were the opposite of what his words would have been.

"I should-"

"Leave?" you asked.

Eddie looked up at you a flushed slightly. "Yeah."

"Where would you go? Where do you go?"

"There are lots of woods and thickets around Hawkins. It's easy to disappear in the cornfield near the outskirts." He murmured.

"But you came all the way to downtown." You stated.

Eddie nodded, "I was checking on someone."

At the twinkle of realization in your eyes, Eddie quickly held out his hands. "I didn't let them see me. I never do." he said.

Looking down at his hands, Eddie flexed his powerful claws, whispering, "not like this."

"but you do have people who care about you and where you might be." you spoke carefully.

Eddie subtly shook his head, "they care, but i've been dead for years now."

"Dead?"

Eddie simply nodded and got to his feet, heading for the back door. "Thank you for the food, and..." Eddie's claws grasped at the blanket still dangling over his shoulders.

His thumb stroked the slightly beaded lenty fabric.

"You can keep it." your words rushed out quickly. He seemed not to want to part with it.

"and," you exhaled slowly.

This was probably a stupid idea. The worse idea, the point in most movies were you wanted to shout at the screen "idiot!" but with hands balled up loosly you resolved yourself.

"You can stay." you said.

Eddie's slumped shoulders jerked up to square as he turned to look at you.

"If you want." you added, "I mean...it's friggin cold out."

He pulled the blanket around himself like a hug, tail swishing about, "you're sure? Like serious?" he questioned.

You can't help but let out a little laugh at his reaction.

"Like sooo serious. It's not everyday you meet a friendly beast." you tease.

Eddie pulled his new old blanket above his head and cocooned himself once again. For the first time he flashed a full smile and it was uniquely dazzling.

"I won't cause you any problems. I promise." He said quickly.

"You won't even know I'm here, swear. I, I can stand guard down here, sleep in one of the booths or something." He spoke excitedly, tail trashing about more, whacking into the tables.

"It's still cold down here, the windows are busted." You said, withholding your laughter.

Pointing over your shoulder towards the small lift, you smiled. "My studio is upstairs. You can sleep on the sofa." you offered.

Eddie tightened the blanket around himself even more.

"But, that's your house." his words tumbled out.

"Yeah. I'm not the brightest. But I let what looks like an eight-foot man faced bat-raptor version of a xenomorph into my shop a talked to it for what's amounting to two hours now." you reasoned.

You eased away your playfulness and gave him an earnest smile. "If you'd had plans to hurt me, you could have done so already. Very easily. You don't want to."

Eddie fiddled with his claws, looking down at his feet.

So once again, you held out your hand. "Now it's no commercial grade lift, just a personal one the previous owner had. I-I'm not sure if it'll carry the both of us but, I guess we'll soon see." you chuckled.

Eddie slipped his hand into yours, your finger's barely able to wrap around his large palms.

As you stood next to him, dwarfed by his height, the elevator doors closed. "Oh...how are you with cats?" you asked him.

"They hate me."

"Oh no..."

Toad mrowed loudly as she proclaimed her spot on Eddie's lap. Rubbing the side of her face and ears against his claws like a personal scratcher.

"So much for they hate me." you sighed with a giggle. Returning to Eddie with a spare pillow and another blanket. He was far too lanky for just one.

In the better lighting of your studio, you could finally see his clothes. Ripped and tattered as if he'd seen battle. Everything was shrunken in the wash in a cartoonish fashion.

Eddie shied away as he noticed your attention on him.

"Stop, you wouldn't want to be stared at." you told yourself.

Going to him, you offered the pillow, "Here you go."

Eddie excepted the pillow and set it in place, Toad taking her leave after arching her back high into a stretch.

You notice Eddie's eyes flutter, lids dropping. You speak quietly, "Lay down, you're safe here." and it causes him to peer up at you. His dark eyes large and sad now filled with what you could only describe as gratitude.

His body relax as if accepting a wave of exhaustion. Eddie curled into a ball and lay his head down on the pillow, wrapped in the initial blanket.

Using the second blanket, you pull it over his lower half, taking care around his ankle.

Eddie's eyes closed as he managed a "thank you" through a yawn.

Your hand reaches down to him, just managing to stop yourself inches above the top of his head.

"Would that be weird?" you asked yourself, but he just seemed so...small. Like a kitten scooped out of the gutter.

"Yeah," you thought. Instead, resting said head on his shoulder. "Get some rest, Eddie. Something tells me it's been a long time." you whispered.

"I'm just across the room, behind the divider, if you need anything." you offered. But you could already hear his soft snoring.

You gently tuck in the blankets snug and make your way around to turn off the lights. Before heading to the bathroom to change, you steal one last look.

There you find Toad, hopping onto Eddie and walking her comfy circles before nestling atop of him and his blankets.

Your gaze on him softens, "how utterly terrifying." you think with a shake of your head, closing the bathroom door behind you.

That's how you met The Monster in the Alley.

Part 2 ⇢

[thevoidstaredback]

I should be sleeping, but I'm not, so here's a thing based on a thing I just saw!

Pre ID reveal (I do a lot of these, but that's because the comedy is endless)

The JL and JLD especially, as well as all the protege teams treat the Bats with Fae or Vampire or Cryptid rules. The Batfam figured it out after the third time the others turned down the invite into Gotham, and they all started rolling with it. Nothing really comes of it, though, until someone does accept the invite to Gotham.

I'm thinking it's gotta be Clark, Diana, or Oliver. Clark could be there for an interview with Bruce Wayne (probably shortly after he buys The Daily Planet) and Tim Drake. Diana could be there for any number of reasons, but I think she's there for a new art exhibit that opened up in the Greek part of Gotham museum where she bumps into Damian Wayne and Dick Grayson. Oliver could be there on business, strictly speaking, but he hasn't talked to Bruce in person since just after their senior year of high school, so is it really a coincidence that he meets up with Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd (who was revealed to have been in witness protection for a time)?

Dealer's Choice on who's there. Could be one, could be all three. Could be someone else entirely! (Though, I can really only see Barry as having a good excuse of working with the GCPD on a case and meeting Dick that way if you really wanted to not use the other three)

Anyway. We're gonna use Clark here because he'd be extra cautious around magic, seeing as it's one of like...2 weaknesses he has.

Clark is sent to Gotham for an interview with the head of Wayne Enterprises. Ownership didn't change, but stuff got mixed up around last year, so he could either be meeting with Bruce Wayne or Time Drake-Wayne. Either way, Clark doesn't want to be here. Lois was supposed to be here, but she got sick, so he got stuck traveling across the harbour to the Crime Capitol of the Country.

He'd normally be ecstatic about potentially running into any of his JL coworkers in their natural habitat home cities, but Gotham was different. Batman, for all that he is Superman's best friend, doesn't let anyone into Gotham. There had been speculation for a while as to why that was, but no one had really been able to confirm it.

Kal-El didn't make it a habit, but he had, admittedly, tried to find out who Batman is under the cowl. He couldn't help it! He and Diana had told both each other and Batman who they were, but Bats had refused. He and Diana were understanding, of course, but that didn't stop the journalist side of him from slipping into the forefront of his mind.

At first, Kal thought he was sick. But he can't get sick. It's not like he could just ask B if his cowl was lined with lead or magic or kryptonite or something!

God, he hoped it was magic that was preventing Kal from seeing through Batman's cowl. It couldn't be kryptonite because Kal would've known it the second he got too close. Lead was the only thing he couldn't see through (that wasn't magic) but that brought up the issue of B's health how heavy the cowl was.

Magic, believe it or not, was the most logical explanation. Batman's cowl and cape are connected, so any magic on one would be on the other. With the way that Batman's cape seems to move on its own, somehow pull him deeper into shadows, and is able to hide at least four humans at any given moment, well, it's not a stretch to say magic was being used. Ignoring the fact that Batman hates magic.

That's a lie. He hates what he doesn't understand. And, try as he might, the man can't get a handle on magic.

Off topic.

Clark got off the train at exactly fifteen-hundred hours. Fourth-five minutes before he had to be at Wayne Tower (who named it that? surely not Mr. Wayne himself?) to meet whoever he was interviewing today.

Not knowing the layout of the city was what probably made Clark on obvious target. He should've memorized a map of the city before coming here.

He knows that there are three parties at work. Red Hood, who not even Batman pushes the boundaries of; Signal, who covers the entire city during the day; and Batman, Robin, Red Robin, Spoiler, Black Bat, and Oracle who cover the night shift. Sometimes, Nightwing joins them from Bludhaven, but that's only sometimes. It's safe to assume, though, that Red Hood and Nightwing are the two outliers. So long as Clark doesn't draw the attention of those two or Signal, he should be fine. A quick in and out and he'll be home free!

"Mister Kent?" the receptionist asks when he approaches her desk.

"Yes," he clears his throat, nervous for some reason he can't place, "That's me." What's wrong with him? It's just a routine interview! He's done hundreds like it before!

The receptionist smiles at him. "Misters Wayne are both waiting for you in Mister Wayne's office on the tenth floor."

He nods his thanks and goes to the elevator. Doesn't this building have like...thirty floors, though? Wouldn't the CEO's office be on the top floor?

Regardless, Clark uses the short elevator ride (complete with smooth jazz as the provided white noise) to calm himself down. He's met hundreds of big shots. Mister Wayne, whichever (or both?) he's meeting with today will be no different.

Maybe.

Probably.

Hopefully.

The elevator dings, the sound an odd harmony of several notes on the C Major scale instead of the single tone bell that is common through everywhere else. He gets off on the tenth floor and finds exactly four offices. He knocks on the door labeled 'Bruce Wayne'.

"Come in!" is called from inside, though the voice sounds too young to be Bruce.

Clark opens the door with an easy smile, taking in stride the fact that he is meeting with both Bruce and Tim Wayne. Oh, dear. "Good afternoon, Mister Wayne, Mister Drake-Wayne."

"Please," Mister Wayne has on the smile he always wears for the public. "Call me Bruce."

"And call me Tim," Tim shakes Clark's hand after he stands from his seat. The door clocks shut behind Clark.

Ah. Now he knows why he's so nervous. Batman usually only has bad things to say about Bruce Wayne. On the other hand, Tim Drake is a complete mystery to him.

Clark takes a seat on the couch opposite the two men when he's prompted. They go through pleasantries they all know are ingenuine before Clark opens up the notepad he brought with him. "Now, Mister Wayne, Mister Drake-Wayne, what made you decide to buy The Daily Planet?

Storyboard

[cod-dump]

*breaks down your Inbox's door* *heavy breathing* I've made my own Shadow OCs but don't think this means I'm happy about it.

*I am actively losing sanity because Graves and his Shadows have me in a death grip*

So here, here are my Shadows. There's like nothing on them cause I've just now made this shit up for ~reasons~

Andrew 'Woody' Fallwood. Gets his callsign from his name and the fact he's a cowboy. Around 5'11", not very big but is plenty strong. He's a silly guy, likes to make jokes and stuff to keep the others calm, especially big boy Moose. Almost always has a cigarette in his mouth. Can be a bit of an ass but that's just cause he's a stubborn little Southern man. More of an Appalachian southern man, and grew up on a cattle farm. Just really loves cows cause he has so many fond memories of the cows under his family's care. Scary good shot. At least it's scary until people learn he grew up in rural Appalachia and then it's just "oh you've been shooting since you were six, haven't you?"

Cole 'Flash' Halley. Tall, lanky guy that stands at around 6'2". Youngest to be recruited into Shadow Company, often gets called "Baby" or similar things since he's so young. Instantly became so many of the Shadows' new younger brother. Gets his name from one of his first days as a Shadow where he beat a record for completing an obstacle course in the fastest time. He holds all the records for "fastest" on so many things on base, including "fastest time to get a hug from Moose". Cause while Moose is a nice guy and all, he doesn't just go around hugging people, especially the newer Shadows. All Flash had to do though was walk up to him in tears and Moose's big brother instincts kicked in. This was his second day on base. He's the stereotypical little brother, though, cause he's constantly doing things to piss other Shadows off/to just be annoying for the hell of it.

Matthew 'Truck' Simmons. Shorter (around 5'8"), but broad, bulky guy. He's been dubbed "getaway driver". He drives everything, from the great big tanks to just normal ass cars. Definitely a truck freak, and is always in the shop, working on any of the numerous terrain vehicles the Shadows have. Had to repeat a couple of school years, and the second he turned 18 he enlisted. He was sick of being told he wasn't "smart" just because he can't do well on academic tests. But put a truck in front of him and a toolkit and he can tell you every single thing about that truck in extreme detail.

Jacob 'Ness' Owens. Not tall at all compared to most other Shadows, only around 5'6". He's a superb swimmer, and is almost always in the water. Loves to dive and do other water related missions. If he could, he'd swim in the outdoor pool year long (it's closed during the off seasons), but luckily the indoor pool's temperature is more easily controlled, thus allowing him to intentionally make it colder. These pools are for training, but the indoor one tends to be more recreational. Ness is required to sign into something when he wants to swim, cause he always makes it colder, and Graves got sick of the complaining from Shadows trying to swim after he's done. Gets his callsign from the fact he's often in his full wetsuit while swimming, and one time, during the night, several Shadows saw him swimming outside and joked he looked like the Loch Ness Monster. He's very quiet and rarely talks, doesn't like to be around a lot of people, but does a good job and is still friendly enough. Prefers giving in to his cryptid namesake (and the fact he's Ohioan) and doing weird things to get out of conversations. (like staring wide-eyed at them and sinking under the table like it's the water level)

*Ness is my baby boy I love him so much*

Anyways, back to complaining over my willing obsession over Graves and Shadow Company

Ah, the brainrot has a firm root if you made ocs HAHAHAHAHAHAH-

-

Moose is actually an excellent swimmer and handles the cold pretty well so him and Ness would bond over that. Moose won’t stay in the water as much but he would definitely join him for a swim.

Flash would definitely be mothered by Moose. Having joined when he was pretty young himself he’s pretty protective of younger Shadows. He tries to not be overbearing but sometimes he can’t help it and worries over them.

Moose would love to hear Truck talk about his vehicles. He knows a few things himself about them, well enough to get them running or to make repairs if needed. He likes listening to people talk about things they’re passionate about.

Woody would definitely be good friends with Moose. The jokes would win him over and they have a shared love for cows. But the accent would definitely have a part in it, something Moose won’t admit. A southern accent is very comforting to him.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Prompts 16, 18, 27, and 28 with Spot

Back at it again with the spot writing WOOO

HOLIDAY

It was the first christmas since his accident, and the first one without his friends and family... well asides you of course. Hes not much of a holiday person, but hes still.. visibly hurt and miserable with it being a reminder of how everyone but you abandoned him in his darkest moment. He doesn't want to do any huge.. event for the day.. he might entertain you with wearing a matching sweater with you and getting you some gifts... but he'd much rather sit in bed and keep his mind occupied, trying to not become increasingly aware of the fact no one else is wishing him a merry christmas or returning his calls. Its very hard for the day not to become at least a little sour from his mood

OBLIVIOUS

Youd been throwing flirting attempts his way ever since you started working at alchemax. Each and every one of them would be met with a clueless look from the scientist, no sign of him realizing what you just said to him. If it werent so frustrating you might just find him even cuter.. but boy is this getting old fast. Oh he is definitely the type to sit straight up in his bed suddenly in the middle of the night when he realizes that you were flirting with him.. added salt if that happens after he comes spot

CAMPING

He is torn. He hates the outdoors and hates working himself physically... but he loves being able to observe stuff up close. Probably screams if a bug launches itself onto his face. Does not believe in cryptids and monsters yet stiffens when theres a noise off in the distance. Will immediately shut down any attempt of telling scary stories by the fire, too. Very good at keeping track of stuff and what direction you guys are going in... probably knows basic first aid and insists he knows what plants are what. He proceeds to walk through poison ivy

FIRST DATE

Oh this poor man he has no idea what to do.. you're not his first date ever but trying to impress someone new is always going to be nerve wracking. That confidence that hes putting on display for you? It's so obviously fake... hes stumbling over his words a little, he probably knocks over his water. You're a little surprised he didnt make note cards to read off of. I'll be nice.. this can be pre collider, he would be even more of a nervous wreck if he was.. a faceless thing.. though his nerves are kind of. Endearing and he does find his footing when the night really kicks off. Charming if not a chatterbox when it comes to topics that really catch his interest. Would try to kiss you after the first date, cannot read if it is appropriate or fits the mood. Hes simply.. a pathetic dork