#before you go thinking its a new cryptid in my place no this is a statue that some random construction worker thought it was a good idea

[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.

#hob: yep. same shit as always #idk in what type school boards do or don't exist in the uk maybe that's just an american thing #also realized i never named Hob's cafe lol. i guess now it's just called The Cafe. like The Library #fitting for a man who named his tavern The New Inn #bookstore cryptid dream #my writing #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #ask #lunaris1013 #good omens #crowley #aziraphale

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: We speak to those beyond. 3668 words.

1986

Time was not linear. Nor was it circular. It was an overlapping collage of everything that had ever happened. A compressed murder board. A grimoire swallowed whole. Eddie remembered it all.

A century of Eptesicus fuscus, a shell of consciousness. Hawkins. A sickness. A witch’s healing hand. Before that, the flatlands. A coven. You. Oh, you, his little witch.

“Those are not your apples.” Cleansing crystals by moonlight. Amabel, little witch. Lonely vampire. Collecting flowers and berries. Green milkweed. Unconditional good. A forest gate. “Bloodline magic, far and wide.” A bet, a kiss, and a name.  “I envy your world of absolutes. And I love you so.” Marguerite du Bruyeres’ letters to Guillaume du Bruyeres. Unmistakably vampire carnage. Blood of my blood.

Eddie let you slip onto the pillow, then escaped out of the trailer and into the early morning. The sun would rise soon but he needed to move. Run. Scream.

The sisters – Sally and Gillian. Penelope, the spellcaster. “By your hand he is taken and I die on this night, or you let us go and free yourself of this burden.” Transformation. Walking through the grass. Black-eyed Susan, tansy, elecampane, yellow carnation, cyclamen. Blood of my blood.

He remembered who he was before you. And before Roanoke. His accent and gait may have changed, but he was the same sad, doomed soul he’d been then. Still a monster.

Eddie sobbed. He went to the forest gate on the outskirts of town and laid in the grass, looking up at the starry sky, letting the shame and horror and regret drown him.

What was he to do? How would he tell you? Should he tell you? Would you be able to see it on his face?

He waited until the very last minutes of night to return to Forest Hills. Eddie moved slowly through the town; slowly, at least, for him. He could picture it all now, how it used to be. The dirt roads. The vacuum of quiet that proceeded the era of constant electrical white noise.

You slept well into the morning, but roused yourself before midday. Eddie was watching Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope. He seemed immersed, so you went about making breakfast. Assam tea with cocoa husks. Oatmeal with sultanas and brown sugar.

There was an awkwardness to Eddie when you sat next to him, curling up close enough to touch. Your mind cycled through possibilities with rapid fire speed. The notion it kept circling back to was – did he regret kissing you?

“Chewie reminds me of the creatures that live in the woods. Have you seen them? Over in the north-west?” you asked, trying to break the ice.

Eddie nodded. “They are shy,”

“Yeah. The humans don’t know about them. Well. They do, but most of them think it’s a hoax. They’re considered cryptids… Which is like, an animal or creature that may or may not exist…” You were rambling. “When they see one, they call it Bigfoot… But Chewie definitely looks like one.”

Eddie didn’t answer. You hadn’t appeared to notice the significance of him remembering something, even something innocuous like the existence of things in the woods.

You finished eating, washed your dishes, and returned to the couch. Star Wars ended and you had no real choice but to address the atmosphere.

“Are you okay?” you asked Eddie.

He looked at you, something in his expression you couldn’t quite place. He nodded. “Yes… Perhaps on edge regarding what your Witches will tell,”

“Yeah… Well then, let’s not put it off any longer.”

Directing Eddie to sit across the room, you knelt at your altar and lit two candles. A pale blue candle for truth. A darker indigo candle for intuition and breaking through illusion. With paper in front of you and a pen in hand, you closed your eyes.

The Witches Who Came Before were always with you, so you needn’t call for them. Instead, you spoke to them with clear intention.

“It is not my place to question you. But it is your place to guide me. To offer truth. Long ago, you foretold of us leaving the flatlands. Then, you warned me of returning. What would have happened if I had heeded that warning?”

The temperature of the room dropped and the air grew thick. Eddie felt his skin tingle and prickle, a frisson of fear and excitement running through him.

“I know you see him for what he is. Without him, Vecna would not have been defeated. Can you say without doubt that he would have been without my intervention?”

It was a challenge to them. If you and Eddie hadn’t destroyed Vecna, could your coven have stopped him? Could all the witches in the world have stop him? Maybe, sure. However, somewhere deep down you knew the answer. Vecna did not belong to this plane of existence. He wasn’t even of the world he inhabited. And a witch can only fight within the boundaries of the natural world.

If you had not come to Hawkins, if you had not found the bat and restored Eddie to his vampire form, Vecna would have taken the town, then the world.

The Witches were silent. It told you that you were right.

“You said that not all callings are sanctified, but that the voice calling me was coming into focus for you. Do you know what brought me here?”

The flames flickered and your hand picked up the signal. The words scrawled along the paper faster than you could read.

“Life and Death have no voice… They do not come calling in the night,” The Witches said. “Their siblings are to follow suit, yet they are wayward in their youth,”

“Which of their siblings called to me?” you asked.

“Destiny was formed in shattered ruins.”

The letters were so unfamiliar, you weren’t sure which witch was speaking to you. It didn’t matter. You had an answer. Destiny had broken free of the rules and reached out to you, urging you to come to Hawkins.

“If I was fated to return to Hawkins, then I was fated to find him?”

Y. E. S. was written over and over, the word tracing itself again and again.

“Why me?”

“Like calls to like. Fate to fate. Love to love,” they said. “History will not repeat itself,”

“A history I do not remember.”

For a moment, quiet. “Lore must be rewritten. You must remember.”

You looked over at Eddie, who could not see any of the words on the page. He was watching you intently, something so human behind his eyes.

“How?” you asked The Witches. “How can I remember?”

“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic.”

You didn’t understand but it felt like enough information that you could figure it out. There was one more thing you needed to know. “The coven… Did I betray them or have they betrayed me?”

“Knowledge is… a creator’s prerogative.”

The pen dropped and the flames were snuffed by an unseen power. You breathed out and read the pages again. Eddie came to sit opposite you. He took the paper.

“Destiny is… a sentient thing?” Eddie asked.

“It’s not meant to be. Forces like fate and life and death shouldn’t… proactively… change the course of what happens on Earth. Not for good reason,”

“I assume we will not hear this reason from Destiny,”

“No… But… It’s an answer. I was called here to find you so we could kill Vecna.”

It was a hypothesis you had both considered. It should have felt satisfying to have it confirmed, yet it was a shallow kind of resolution.

“And, it had to be you,” Eddie said. He knew why it had to be you. No other witch would have saved a vampire. It pained him to see you confused and lost.

“When I get my memories back, I’ll know why it had to be me,”

“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic,” Eddie read off the page. You nodded. “By definition, you are a witch, you are magic. Therefore, it is through magic that you will find your memories,” he reasoned.

It clicked into place in your mind. “And by definition, you are a vampire… blood… so… Through blood you’ll get yours back?” you guessed.

When you looked up at Eddie, you expected to see your own excited expression mirrored. Instead, there was restraint. He broke eye contact almost immediately and began to nod, standing up and walking away.

“Yes. Although I don’t-” he began.

“Stop,” you whispered.

You got up and followed him across the room, he took a step to move away from you but you grabbed him by the wrist. Eddie was helpless as you squinted your eyes and studied his face. When you figured it out, a small gasp slipped from your lips and you let go of him.

As you went to speak, your voice cracked and you had to start again. “How long?”

Eddie said your name with too much softness.

“No. No. Don’t… Don’t do that. How long have you remembered? Do you remember everything? When… When did you remember?” You felt like you were going to throw up.

It hurt.

Not the nausea or the sudden headache, but the deceit. You had thought you and Eddie were a united front. A team. But he had lied to you.

“Only last night, but-”

“Last night?! Was that before or after we…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Now that your face was contorted with fear and sadness, Eddie’s mirror yours.

“Please, let me tell you. I’ll tell you everything,” he begged. His hand reached out; he wanted to brush the tears from your cheeks.

You flinched and Eddie moved back in response.

Had you been stupid to trust a vampire? Was everything you felt about Eddie misguided? Were all your bad decisions going to lead to a reckoning, where excommunication was the best outcome you could hope for?

Eddie wanted desperately to spill it all out. To tell you everything that had happened in 1836. To warn you against trusting your coven. To help you find your memories, and maybe Kelsey’s too. But the more he pushed, the more you pulled away. He’d never had faith in anything, but he demanded it of himself in that moment. Have faith in fate. Have faith in his little witch.

Your mind was having trouble holding any one thought. Normally, you’d be cycling through them all, but it felt like your brain was empty. Long hallways leading to unfurnished rooms. Cavernous spaces. Haunted. You were frozen on the spot, watching Eddie watch you. Then, everything came into sharp focus at the sound of a knock on the trailer’s front door.

The tension was popped and you choked back a half-sob. Eddie hid himself in the bedroom, closing the door behind him, as you answered. He climbed onto the bed and curled up, regret washing over him as he closed his eyes and listened.

Sunlight poured in as the door swung open, Robin and Nancy’s shadows casting long across the trailer’s carpet. You frowned, at first, confused by their appearance. The grief was so intense that it was almost an entity standing beside them. You understood then.

“Hey,” Nancy greeted weakly.

“Hi,” you replied.

It felt strange following a normal social script with them. Yet, you all persisted.

“This is Dustin,” she introduced, taking a step to reveal a child standing behind her.

You knew who he was and nodded politely in his direction. He was already crying. Sighing, you looked away from them, out at Forest Hills. Life was returning to it, but you had been too busy with your own shit to notice.

“It might be too early for this,” you told them.

“It’s past midday,” Robin countered.

“No, I mean, too early in the grieving process. It’s only been a couple days,” you explained.

“Are you saying that… He won’t… Answer us… yet? Or that we aren’t ready to talk to him?” Nancy asked. “Because, no offense, but you don’t know us well enough to tell us if we’re ready,”

“We’re ready,” Robin added.

You sucked your bottom lip in, forgetting the split. You winced at the pain, tasted the blood. The blood. Was that how Eddie got his memory back? Had he kissed blood from your mouth and found history in it?

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Dustin squeaked. The boy’s face was pure misery. His nose was red from rubbing it with tissues. His eyes were bloodshot. He was clenching his jaw.

Stepping aside, you nodded. “Okay. Come in.”

Eddie stayed where he was, knowing it was not his place to intrude on such a private event.

You cleared the altar in the middle of the lounge room and directed the teens to sit around it. They watched as you gathered items from around the place and mumbled to yourself while scribbling into a notebook.

“Where there is death, there have always been attempts to commune with the dead. It is not a practice that belongs strictly to witches. Since the beginning of time, humans have sought out methods to speak to those they’ve lost. Where connection has been made, it is usually more to do with the dead than the methods of the living, but nonetheless, it has happened.”

Nancy was listening intently, ever the student. Robin and Dustin both looked at each other, sharing inpatient expressions.

“It’s important to understand history. If you want to participate in the craft, you owe it at least that,” you told them. “Our way of bridging us and them is dependent on the dead. How they appear is dictated by them entirely,”

“What does that mean?” Nancy asked.

“It means, I can send them a message and open the doorway, but if and how they walk through it has nothing to do with me. They could send a single message back. Just an echo I hear. Their form may appear, ready to hold conversation. Alternatively, they may close the door and lock it. You need to be prepared for any of these outcomes,”

“He’ll want to talk to us,” Dustin said. “I know he will.”

You hoped he was right.

If the altar was at the center of an invisible pentagram, you placed an object at each point. A small plate of chunks of cedarwood, burning slowly. Black onyx. Sprigs of vervain. A bowl of moon water. Finally, a white candle burning at where the top of the pentagram would be.

You sat at the altar and used a pin to open a tiny wound in your finger. Closing your eyes and letting the blood roll down your hand, you spoke. “I offer my blood, the blood of a born witch, in payment of passage into the ether.” You opened your eyes and looked at the teens. “You can call to him,” you instructed.

They looked between themselves, silently figuring out who would go first. Naturally, Nancy took a deep breath in. Her eyes glazed over with tears. Her voice was small. “Steve? Are you there?”

She looked to you for guidance; you nodded for her to continue.

“Steve… It’s Nancy… Robin and Dustin are here too… We…” She had to stop to steel her nerves. “We miss you. And. Um. We… we wanted…” It was suddenly impossible for her to say the words ‘to say goodbye.’ Nancy started to cry.

“Hey- hey, dingus,” Robin took over. “Are you there? You’re probably busy… hitting on ghost chicks already… But, um, if you could just… just tune in for a minute…”

Everyone’s attention snapped to the bowl of water as it shook and spilled. You felt him first. Warmth. Steve Harrington felt warm.

“He’s here,” you told them. “He’s listening.”

They all focused, trying to sense what you did. Slowly, his outline was becoming visible to you. He was behind his friends, leaning against the trailer’s wall, by the door. Steve’s arms were crossed against his chest and one leg was folded, foot flat against the wall. He appeared casual, already at peace with his death.

“Your friends wanted to say goodbye to you,” you said to him.

“Are you like…” Steve waved his hands in the air. “Like a witch?”

You nodded.

“All this is… Are you a- a good witch?”

“Was that a genuine question or are you quoting The Wizard of Oz?” you asked him.

Robin covered her face with her hands as Dustin rolled his eyes.

“I thought dying, might, you know, level him up?” Dustin whispered through his tears.

“I can hear you,” Steve said.

“Does he know we tried… we…” Nancy cut through the comedy with her grief, getting stuck on her words again.

Steve nodded. He moved through the trailer, his form semi-transparent and snapping with residual energy. He sat next to you, looking over at his friends. 

“He knows you tried to save him. He knows you didn’t want to leave him there,” you told them.

“Tell Dustin that he doesn’t need to feel guilty. I’m glad he wasn’t there,” Steve said.

“It’s good you weren’t there, Dustin. Steve is thankful you were safe and that you didn’t have to see him in the end,”

“And tell him that he’s the coolest kid I ever knew. That I figured that out on the train tracks. He’s cool and he’s so smart. Twice as smart as me. More, probably. He’s gonna grow up and be the kind of man I wish I was.”

You watched Steve as he spoke. The way he looked at Dustin with admiration in his eyes. Like this kid who probably worshipped him was actually the hero of the group.

You relayed Steve’s message word-for-word. Dustin whimpered and let Nancy wrap an arm around him.

“Thanks, man,” Dustin managed to get out. “I love you.”

Steve looked to Robin next. “I don’t know how to explain it to her,” he told you.

“It’s okay. I think she’ll understand,”

“Yeah… That’s it though. She gets me. And I get her. Like… I feel normal around her. I can just be… me. She’s my best friend… I have a shit load of regrets but not knowing Robin sooner is right at the top of that list. Tell her… that she’s so much braver than she thinks she is. And that she’s smart in a way nobody else is… And that she totally deserves to be loved. And not by some girl who keeps it a secret. Nothing like that. She deserves the whole love story movie thing… romantic comedy with the happy ending. Can you tell her that?”

You could and you did.

Robin nodded to herself in a self-soothing action, then pulled her knees up to her chest and started to rock. Steve frowned at her.

“Tell her that she should still go on the trip we were thinking about,”

“He says you should still go on the trip,” you said to her.

Robin barked out a broken laugh. “Sunshine, beers, and babes,” she said.

“Oh! And tell her if someone pauses Fast Times at Ridgemont High at 53 minutes and 5 seconds, she knows what it means.”

Robin laughed again and nodded. “Noted.”

Steve nodded along with her. “Maybe she should take Nancy on the trip. They’d actually make really good friends if they got to know each other,”

“I think they’re doing that,” you told him.

“That’s good…” He looked at Nancy. “I had the chance to tell her everything, near the end. Got some of it… Tell her… Shit. I don’t know how to say it without sounding like I’m blowing smoke up her ass,”

“You’re up Nancy. He needs a second. Says he doesn’t know how to tell you what he needs to without sounding like he’s blowing smoke up your ass.”

Everyone laughed. Except Steve. He held his hands up in question. “What the hell, man? You said you were a good witch!”

You liked Steve.

“Okay… She needs to really believe what I told her. About how she really helped me stop being such an asshole. And that it’s okay how it ended between us. I was stuck in the present but Nancy sees the future. Big plans, you know? She should know that’s a good thing.”

As soon as you started to give Nancy the message, she burst into tears again.

“Tell her that I love that she always trusts her gut. And that she’ll always look so hot with a shotgun… And tell her that I’ll say hi to Barb for her.”

The room fell into silence after the last of Nancy’s goodbye was said. Nobody was ready to move on just yet. After a few minutes of reflection, Steve’s form began to flicker. He knew what it meant. When you sat up straight, the others all looked at you.

“I gotta go,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” you replied softly. “Here. Hold my hand.”

Steve frowned, unsure of what would happen. Still, he thought it best to do what a good witch said. He took your hand and felt a zap of electricity or something magic.

“Any last words?” you asked him.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. The others all gasped. Steve looked to them then back to you. “They can hear me?”

Robin started to sob again. Dustin nodded.

“Oh, shit, okay. Shit… Hi… Shit…”

“It’s okay,” you told him, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah… Uh… Just… It’s okay, you know? It… it had to be this way. There’s already plenty of Steves in the world, you know? But there’s only one Dustin Henderson. One Robin Buckley. One Nancy Wheeler. The world needs you guys. So, it’s okay. I’m okay. I love you.”

The others cried and said goodbye. They held each other and let themselves feel it all.

Steve’s hand slowly faded out of yours, until there was nothing left but his warmth and the memory of him etched into his friends' minds like love letters swiped through wet concrete.

End Note: This chapter was written very much in collab with @dr-aculaaa, my resident Steve expert. Thank you so much! I hope you like how the scene turned out.

Chapter seventeen is a little bit of an interlude, it's an ode to both Steve and to the magic that runs through this story. But also... now she knows Eddie knows... yikes.

Grimoire updated!

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel

#Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Reader Insert #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Vampire!Eddie Munson

[goth-pod]

Goth-Pod Ep 5: Gotham Troubles

Welcome Back! Listening to you send ins, Juda Boone talks about things by Gothamites, for Gothamites!

[goth-pod is a fictional in-universe podcast based on the DC comics universe. Juda Boone is an original fictional character, not based on any real person or known comic book character.]

Transcript under the cut

Hello everyone and welcome to Goth-Pods special trials and troubles episode! I’m an indie theater’s take on the ghost of Christmas Present- and your host, Juda Boone. 

We're looking at your submitted trademark Gotham problems. So without my usual ramblings, lets get to business

—

For our first submission username Trekkle brought up a good debate: Subway vs Bus: The Subway is safer, since buses can get hit during rogue attacks, but if you're stuck underground there's a chance of a killer croc attack and also the birds ride the roof. 

Fantastic points, Trekkle! Thank you for writing in. I don't know exactly what you mean by the birds riding the roof, though. Do you mean Robin? Because I have been on the tram while a fight was happening between Robin and The Penguin on top. Of course, I missed most of it because I had my headphones in. Noise cancellation has its pros and cons in Gotham.  

There’s no set answer on this one, I don’t think. You kind of have to pay attention to what Rouges are active the way you pay attention to the weather. Cloudy with a 70% chance of a Riddler scheme? Maybe take the Buses, since they’re not connected to a maze-like system like  the subways are. But maybe it's sweater weather with a possible freeze-over because Victor Fries broke out two nights ago and is due for a showy return. Then an underground bunker with cushy seats doesn’t sound too bad.

—

From Clexx we have: I'm new to Gotham (full ride scholarship, thank you Mr. Wayne): Why does everyone hate Superman? I tried to get answers from a friend and they called Superman a Homewrecker. Is there an infidelity scandal around Superman I don’t know about??

Oh wow. First of all, congratulations on the scholarship! I'm assuming you're attending Gotham U? Just be sure you get a proper Rogue-proof gas mask. Yes there is a difference. It’ll probably be covered in your Orientation though, so onto the main question. 

To the Homewrecker comment.. oh I didn’t think it’d come to this. Okay, there's this thing in Gotham. Clexx, have you ever heard of Bruceman? Ask your friend about it, they’ll probably love to explain more. Basically it is a Real-Person based Ship on Gotham’s two protectors, Bruce Wayne and Batman. One watching over the day, the other the night. 

This is another Topic that might take all episodes to explain, so to keep it short: People see Superman and Batman’s relationship- professional, platonic, romantic, or however they define it- as a threat to Bruceman, the number one Gotham Ship. Godspeed if you get between our beloved prettyboy himbo and our odd night-stalking cryptid. 

—

From Allison: My cousin is visiting and I want to show them why I stay in Gotham. Where can we go for 1) a low level rogue attack (for Bat sighting), and 2) where can we go for a Wayne sighting. (They think Dick Grayson is hotter then Brucie [eye-rolling emoji])

For the first one, I think any part of our public transport system will do, as we discussed before. The tricky part is knowing when it’s going to be low-level or if your cousin will be joining you in a shelter-in-place lockdown.

For a Wayne sighting, unfortunately it’s harder to say these days. Bruce Wayne has made several statements on how he’s spending less time at the company in order to focus on bonding with his new son, Jason. I hate to disappoint, but right now might not be the time for celebrity sight-seeing. Maybe take a day trip to Bludhaven! Your cousin might enjoy the chance to convince you instead. 

Thank you all for writing in and for joining us on this special episode! If we didn’t get to your submission, head over to our socials to see if we replied there. I’m Juda, you’re listening to Goth-Pod

Until then, Newcomers, visiting cousins, locals on the bus, Stay safe, Gotham.

#goth pod #batman #dc comics #gotham city #gothamite #gothamite rp #mentioned: #riddler #the riddler #the batman #mr freeze #victor fries #bruceman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x batman #gotham rogues #dick grayson #jason todd #batfamily #batfam #superman #superbat #brucie wayne #the penguin #dc robin #dc universe #gotham #gotham podcast #fictional podcast #sorry this ones a bit late in posting!!

[sofiiel]

Cryptid!Eddie x Reader | PART SIX

⇠ Part 1 | Part 5 | Next ⇢

Warnings: None that I can *think* of. Proofread from phone :') I'm still waiting on my new glasses, so I probably missed more than usual. I am sorry.

A/n: there will be a short for this chapter eventually explaining what happened when Eddie snuck out. Just for the POV change.

Eddie climbed back into the window and was greeted with the clearing of your throat and the unamused "Mrow" of Toad.

You clap your hands to turn the lights on in shock Eddie lost his footing falling flat onto the carpet, his blanket safely tucked under his arm.

You watched him lay there, eyes shut tight and face burning red.

"I heard your bell when you left, you know." You mutter flatly.

Getting up, you go over to him and cross your arms. "You can give me a heads-up if you're going out, just let me know ifs not because you've gone into 'munch crunch' mode." you sighed.

Eddie peeked up at you with one eye, "Noted, sorry. You were just sleeping so good." he said.

Sitting up and crossing his legs, Eddie looked down at the blanket in his lap. He petted it with satisfaction.

"I left this...." He said, fighting the smile on this face.

The air is pushed from your lungs as you glance down to find the old worm blanket. You are unable to fight your smile and exhale in defeat.

Eddie looked up at you with a sheepish grin.

"Your tail is hanging out the window still, by the way." you murmur, heading back to bed and clapping off the lights.

The next morning, you've got a pen lock between your teeth as you look over the many orders you've scrawled down on a note paper. It was the largest to-go order you'd received in your life.

Lucas came bouncing in through the door on his lunch break.

"I dropped off the goodie-basket at Wayne's." He said with a chuckle.

"Oh, how'd that go?" you asked.

He gave a shrug, "He didn't know what to make of it. I think he's assume it's still Dustin's mom."

You smiled a bit, "Wait til he finds out who's really having them sent." you said, glancing up towards the ceiling.

"Hey, ____ if you want to go check on things, I can cover for your lunch break now." Robin offered.

"Thanks, I'll be right back." you hummed, heading for the lift.

Eddie stood in the center of the living room, frowning at his flooded pants. Visibly sulking.

"They're a little short." You commented.

"A little? They might as well BE shorts..." He muttered.

With one leg, he lifted a foot and used its talons to scratch at his ankle.

"Stop that!" you called out.

"Huh? Oh!" Eddie gasped, placing his foot back on the floor.

He looked down at the torn bandages, "sorry, it itches like a bitch." he muttered.

You sighed, "I came to see how the clothes that Steve brought you fit and if you were hungry."

Eddie walked to his place on the sofa and threw his blanket over his head. Snatching up the remote and a jar of peanuts, Gareth brought him.

He held a contented smile, "I'm just fine." he said.

"Well, Jeff told me you like DnD, There's paper in the old trunk at the foot of my bed. You can get it out from there if you'd like." You mention.

Eddie's eyes sparkled, "Wait, why would I need paper?" he asked, but he could already feel the answer.

"For a campaign, I told them you could host one down in the shop. Providing all the curtains remain drawn and doors are locked."

Eddie beamed and opened his mouth, but you instantly pointed at him.

"If you call me-"

Eddie laughed, "I wasn't, I was going to say you're like a patron god. I'm just wondering when I'll need to hold up my half of the deal."

"Patron what?" you asked.

"It's a Dnd th- never mind. Just, thanks....again." He said.

"Mhmm, I've getting free labor out of it so," you teased, offering a few scratches to Toad before heading into your kitchen to make a lunch.

Eddie eyeballed you.

"I thought you weren't hungry?" you asked.

"You didn't say anything about sandwiches." he spoke quickly.

You held up the head of lettuce, "Alright, I'll make you one, but you have to chop this"

Eddie smirked a flexed his claws, "easy." he said, chest a little puffed.

You laughed softly at the amount of pride that dripped from his voice. "You cut a few apples, and you're king of the world?" you asked while Eddie washed hi hands.

He smiled down into the sink, of which his hands barely fit, "You don't know how long I've been useless for anything besides killing things." he said.

There was a moment when his voice fell quiet, Eddie watching the water run across his skin.

Unable to take the melancholy on his face, you gently bumped your shoulder into his side, causing Eddie to sway.

His eyes flickered to you, "Do you think I'll be able to pick up the guitar again. Like, honestly?" He asked, the question laced with a sort of fear.

"Music is important to you, isn't it?" You asked him.

Eddie gave a shaken smile, "You have no idea."

"Then, yes. I do. Something tell's me you're... ah, very headstrong." you tell him.

Eddie chuckled and took the lettuce from your hands, by stabbing a claw into it. "You mean hardheaded." he laughed.

"My way sounds more flattering. Don't you think?"

"It does. You know, If you're right. When I finally take the stage again. I'll play you a song." said Eddie.

"Hold on, I don't even know if you're any good!" you teased.

Eddie froze, "We're the best." he shot without a second, missed.

You stuck out your tongue, "You'll have to prove it."

With ____ back downstairs at work, Eddie decided to see if he could find the paper in the trunk.

Though, he wasn't one hundred percent sure on how he was going to handle a pen.

"Face that battle when it gets here." he told himself, opening the trunk and diving in.

It was jammed packed full of random items.

"It's a wonder ____ can find anything in here." He muttered, diving in deeper. Betting that a paper was crumpled to hell and back.

If the objects inside hand't looked so well taken care of, he might have considered this something of a junk drawer.

Finally, Eddie could see the paper, surprisingly uncrumpled. But on top of it, rested a clay sculpture. It wasn't very good, in fact if it hadn't been for the smiling faces carved in, it would have been lost that if was two people.

Next to it, a ring of faded silver topped with a colorful stone.

Eddie tried to take just the paper, though the two strange object kept drawing his gaze. He felt like a magpie asked to ignore a glittering trinket.

Taking up the paper, Eddie went to close the trunk.

"Those little faces are looking at you." he muttered.

"____ said you could go in the trunk, can't be bad if I just take a closer look." Eddie thought, dropping the paper on the ground and digging back in.

Eddie slipped the ring onto his claw and wrapped his tail around the sculpture.

"Trust you more than my own hands." he said to his tail, before taking his paper and going back to the sofa.

Eddie settled down comfortably and turned over the Sculpture, taking care to hold it over his lap in case his hands decided to drop it.

Underneath the chipped green paint of the sculpture base, names were carved in. the worn jagged grooves spelling out "From Elias for ____."

"Your brother made this for you..." Eddie murmured to ____.

He suddenly felt as if he'd violated some sacred thing just by holding it within in claws.

Eddie examined the sculpture carefully, one of the figures looked as if the artist had no desire to shape it, while the other showed some effort.

He frowned, "He didn't care very much about himself, did he? But you did." Eddie thought.

From the corner of is eye, Eddie noticed the colorful stone in the ring slowly change color around his claw.

"Oh" two voices sighed in surprise.

Eddie glanced up quickly, hugging the sculpture to his body to ensure it wouldn't fall as he jumped.

Your eyes lingered on the stone, even from a distance you could spot the colors turning slowly, undecided in its emotions.

"You found Elias' sculpture." you said, going to join Eddie on the sofa.

He studied your reaction, "um...sorry if I wasn't supposed to, well, you know." Eddie said.

"No, it's fine, I have lots of them. Elias liked to making things." you shrugged.

Reaching out, you let your finger tap the stone on the ring.

"I don't think this works very well." Eddie stated, "though it's not exactly on my finger."

"It works, there's just no color to match what you're feeling." you explained, letting your eyes wander up to meet his.

"They don't have a color for when you're sad."

Eddie inhaled, his lips parting slightly, unable to admit or deny if he was or not. His eyes simply slipped back to the sculpture.

"If it's for either Elias or me, you shouldn't be. He did what would make him happy, and he left me his lifetime of mementos and memories." You managed with a smile.

Eddie looked at you, quiet, for a long time before his large hand plopped on top of your head. His claws curled down over your forehead, the tips visible as you peered upward.

A wide smirk spread across your face and your eyes narrowed, quite pleased, moving to look at Eddie.

"W-why are you looking at me like that?" He questioned.

"That level of smug is....terrifying." Eddie muttered.

"Do I tell him? Do I let him know?" you questioned yourself inwardly.

For the second time, he'd allowed himself to touch someone without pause or instant dread. Once with his bandmates and just now.

"It'd ruin it. If you say something, he will be aware of it." you tell yourself.

"No reason." you answered briskly.

Eddie tilted his head, "oh there's a reason, there has to be." He pushed.

It was hard not to grin, he'd never realize he was his own answer.

"Anyway, I came because we're out of receipt paper and I need to get to my trunk to get a fresh roll." you said.

Eddie's eyes narrowed his time, "Nice try, don't change the- hey wait!" He stood up to make chase as he got up, slipped out from under his hand and walked away.

Pausing in his steps, Eddie concentrated on setting down your brother's items with care, then scurrying off after you. Earning himself a lazy swipe from Toad's paw in passing.

The end of the day was welcomed with the relaxed company of Eddie's friends, gathered down in the shop. The settled into the chair surrounding the fire.

Eddie falling right into place as if he'd forgotten what he'd become, if only for a moment.

You returned with a tray full of warm drinks, setting them down and going to leave the little party to themselves.

Eddie watched you head for the front door, pulling on your coat and gathering your keys. He fought the urge to frown and failed.

"Where are you going?" he called out to you, peering around Jeff.

"I'm just leaving you guys to it," you said, pulling a small envelope out of your coat pocket. "I need to mail this out as well. I won't be long."

"You don't have to leave." Eddie spoke quickly.

Gareth, Jeff and Grant glanced at each other.

"Right? Come join us! This is your place." Jeff laughed.

You smiled as Gareth moved over to make room for you.

"Thanks, but really, I need to get this out. Otherwise, I'll forget." you said.

Eddie heaved a sulking sigh, "ok." he said, fidgeting with his fingers as he cast nervous eyes towards the guys.

"We'll stay until ____, gets back. Don't look so scared, man." Gareth teased.

Eddie's expression fell into an intense stare, "That thing is still out there." He warned you.

"Oh, I am well aware. But what are the odds it ventures this far into town?" You asked.

"I did." Eddie answered.

"You two are hardly the same, that thing had nothing human left about it." you reasoned.

"Maybe it did once, what you should say is-"

Your insistent smile cut Eddie's words off, "I'll keep an eye out." you said.

"I'll walk with them there." Grant offered.

"Not that I am any good against monsters, but I think ____ is right. You're worrying over nothing. I need to head home and check on the munchkin's anyway." He added.

"See, now it's two again one." You chimed. You flashed Grant a thankful smile as he took up his keys and jacket.

"This way you don't have to walk either." Grant said.

The boys bid their goodbyes to Grant and the two of you stepped out the door.

The car side was quiet, Grant was shier than you'd expected compared with how he acted around his friends.

But the music from the CD he'd popped in kept you well enough company, as did the streetlights.

"Thank you for what you're doing for Eddie." He finally spoke up.

"If we could have we would have taken him in but. I have kids, I hate to say it, but he'd scare them half to death." said Grant.

"Jeff and Gareth room together but the landlords, strict, wouldn't let them so much a keep a pet snake. Hiding Eddie would be hard." he continued with a sigh, "and Eddie's still too scared to show himself to Wayne..."

You gave a nod, "You don't have to thank me. I didn't have any friends here, or family. Eddie's a bit of a riot. It's less lonely. And Now I've got extra help around the shop after hours." You said.

"Well, I've only ever seen him let down his guard this much with Wayne." Grant chuckled

"You can feel pretty safe with anyone crazy enough to welcome the thing that goes bump in the night into their home."

"Yeah, he thinks you're nuts." Grant laughed.

"He makes that known as much as possible, I see."

"Eddie also is clearly impressed. You might be crazy, but that takes guts." said Grant.

"Well, a life knee-deep in a government family finally came in handy." you murmured, glancing down at the envelope in your lap.

"Sorry, what was that?" Grant asked.

"Oh, nothing," you hummed.

The car came to a stop before the delivery box outside the post office. You rolled down the window and slipped the envelope inside.

"Thanks for this." You said to Grant.

"Anytime."

By the time the guys left, they'd worn Eddie out. It'd been a long time since he'd had so much social interaction. You shook your head at him as he slept on the sofa, one legs dangling off, his blanket hooked into his elbow.

"Clonked right out in the middle of talking." you giggled inwardly.

Quietly, you try your best not to disturb him when you slip the blanket away. Shaking it open to cover him up.

While pulling the blanket over his shoulders, Eddie's eyes fluttered open. Clouded a milky white that sent shivers across your body.

"That's not good." you thought, afraid to move.

Eddie's gaze fixed not on you but through you. As you stood stunned, his tail snuck around your waist, drawing a cry out of you when it lifted your frame into the air.

"This shouldn't be possible!" you shouted, gripping his tail.

"Eddie wake up!"

Yet, he simply closed his eyes and turned over, snuggling into his pillow.

"No, Eddie! Damn it!" you shouted, ducking to keep your head from hitting the ceiling.

Toad's head swayed as she followed your movements, watching you bob about in the air. Her eyes large, unsure of what was going on. Were the two of you playing? Because it certainly did not look like fun.

"T-Toad, wake him up!" you called.

Eddie began to murmur and you fell silent.

"We're making it out...... together. I won't....not this time."

"A memory? Or a dream?" You mutter. Giving up the struggle, you hope that he will continue.

Though, you're left with the breeze through the window and the distant chirp of crickets.

Without warning, Eddie slung his tail. You fold your arms over your head to stop the impact of the ceiling.

"Wait!" Eddie called out.

"My thoughts exactly! Eddie, Wake up!" You shouted, being trashed about.

"You're home! Sleeping, safe and sound. Remember? Your band visited today!"

Slowly Eddie began to lower you, as you drop to the floor the room spun if only a little. Feeling as though you'd just stepped off a boat.

You propped yourself against the coffee table with a groan.

"Holy shit, how many muscles are in that tail?" you thought, watching as it curled around him.

Eddie'd finally settled back to sleep.

Getting up after taking time to recover, you retreat to your bed, pulling out a notebook. You pencil down the date, what you'd heard of his dream and his reactions to it.

"If I collect these for a few days, Eddie and the Others can try to piece together what happened to him." you reasoned with yourself.

"Though I will need to be more care from here on." you sighed, rubbing your neck. As if your shoulder pain wasn't enough.

A week went by faster than you would have thought. The morning routine unfolding as it had for the past several days. You woke up first, Eddie'd set the hot water kettle before nodding off and cocooning into his favorite worn blanket.

Which left you to throw together breakfast before the start of your day. You'd watch cartoons and then head down to work.

However, this morning as you flipped on the TV, you nearly spit out your morning beverage. Nearly, instead, the piping hot drink gulped down and scorched your throat.

"EDDIE!" you yelped, voice raspy, rushing towards the screen.

It was only a silhouette, but it was an unmistakable one.

Eddie turned over, his back facing the rest of the room, murmuring in his sleep, "I rolled a twelve...that's bullshit."

Your mouth fell open, the newscaster's voice sounding like static through your astonished ears. Your eyes following the shadow in the grainy video.

"Eddie, wake up! Right. Now."

He groaned and rolled over, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Where's the fire?" he asked through a yawn, his six fangs glinting in the sunlight through the window.

You point to the screen, stepping out of his way to give him a clear view.

"Look familiar?" you asked.

Eddie blinked, his eyes shifting between the shadow and the thing it carried in its talons.

"Is that-"

"Uh huh, you and your blankie." You said quickly, "you and your blankie! Eddie!"

"Do you have to call it that?" Eddie murmured, face flush.

"Also, no one will believe that, the video's all fuzzy. Besides, I thought it was late enough..." He muttered.

You turn to face the TV once more, biting lightly on your knuckle.

"Someone will. After all, somebody said the same thing about Big Foot, Mothman, Nessie, Chupacabras, Baba Yaga, aliens..." You counted on your fingers, "and people hunt for them in droves."

Eddie sat up slowly, his elbows resting on his thighs, "yeah, but Halloween is a month away. They'll chalk it up to some pranksters having fun." he reasoned.

You watched as the footage replayed over and over. The newscasters giggled amongst each other. But that did little for the sour feeling in your gut.

"Maybe..." you murmured.

"It took this long for someone to show it, right? It was probably hard for them to find a channel willing to." Eddie said.

Something scrapped across your shoulder, your body pushed forward slightly. Eddie chuckled, his eyes crinkling into an apologetic smile while he peered down at you.

"Sorry, um tripped." he admitted, looking down at his toes.

"Don't worry so much, we're being careful. If I've made it this long, I'm good." Eddie said.

"But you've relaxed. Yes, that's a good thing, but it means you're not on your toes as much." you thought, watching him reach into the linen cabinet and pull free a towel.

"I call first dibs." He whistled, closing the bathroom door behind him.

The shop door chimed and in strolled, what was becoming a familiar face.

"Hello, Mr.Munson. The usual?" You asked.

He offered you a small, tired smile as he nodded. "Am I still getting those baskets?" he questioned.

"Yep, I set it on the table near the fireplace. It rained this morning, seems it got colder. Warm yourself up a bit before heading into work." You offered.

"Hey, Wayne!" Lucas called happily, passing the man his sports paper.

From the counter, you lingered as observed Eddie's uncle. The poor man just seemed permanently exhausted.

"It's been a week, Eddie seems stable enough to be able to meet up with the man. I don't see the harm if it's early and not at night." You thought, making your way back to the kitchen.

"Then again, he works nights so, he'll be asleep in the morning...and Eddie likely will too. Go figure they'd both be nocturnal." you sighed.

"Still worrying over Wayne?" Robin asked.

"Eddie's got stories about Wayne for days. He'll be ruined if something happens to him, or he falls ill again before He gets the chance to see him face to face." you said.

"Ask Eddie if he's up to trying." Robin shrugged.

"I might have one of the guys bring it up to him. Honestly? I'm not entirely sure it's my place to push to hard. He's doing better now with all of you." You sighed.

"While that might be true. You and I both know he'd be over the moon if he could see his uncle face to face again." she said.

"Are you kidding, He'd be crying, Wayne'd be crying and all of us eavesdropping? We would be crying." Lucas spoke as he made his way through the kitchens.

"We have an order for that orange smoothie thing." he added.

"Oooh the Jack-o-lantern mango smoothie? I've got it, that's a fun one." Robin said, hurrying off towards the blinder.

"You just like showing off with the shaker!" Lucas called after her.

You shook your head, "I'm going to see how Mr. Wayne is doing." you said.

"You know I've seen some of everything the years I spent truckin" Wayne murmured with a shake of his head. He'd heard you draw nearer.

Tired or not, the old man was sharp.

"You were a trucker?" You asked him pulling up a chair.

"For ten years jus' about." he said with some pride. In his eyes, you could tell he had fun doing it. It was the same glint Eddie got when he mentioned anything he was particularly fond of.

Wayne held out his paper, showing a grayscale image of the footage shown on TV that morning.

"Nobody will believe it, he said. Pranksters, he said." you thought with a roll of your eyes.

"Folk shouldn't just laugh these things off. Halloween today s'based off a sacred holiday. All legends can't be false. The thing people forget about f tales is that there's always some truth in 'em." Wayne reasoned.

"But a winged, tailed man?" You questioned in a jittered chuckle.

Wayne fixed his gaze on you, and you knew you'd failed at being convincing.

"You believe in it." He said, turning back to the paper.

"Knew a guy, said he spotted a creature one night. He'd pulled over after nearly sixteen hours of drivin' none stop. In the pitch black, in the middle of nowhere. Sure, he wasn't the most honest man I'd ever known, but." Wayne's voice fell into a gravely, deep lull, and you found yourself leaning in like a child around the campfire.

"The fear that took over his face, six foot five giant of a man that he was, while he explained what it was he saw." Wayne nodded to you.

"A person's eyes can tell you everything. Some things you see, they dig in deep and they stay there. When he said he saw a seven-foot faceless critter, not man or beast. You could only believe 'im. If only for that look in his eyes."

You sat in silence, blinking several times.

"But this is Hawkins, and lord knows we got enough idiot kids bored enough to pull something like this." Wayne grunted, rolling up his paper.

You shook yourself away from the memory of the Monster you'd come in contact with in the cornfields.

Your eyes followed Wayne as he stood and collected his basket.

"You have a good one." He said leaving a tip on the side table.

Your mouth struggled to make words, fighting between blurting out that you knew where his nephew was, and that you did in fact believe the new story.

Wayne held open the door for the young lady who'd ordered the Jack-o-lantern mango smoothie, and you called to him just before he could step out the door himself.

"Mr. Munson!"

He paused, looking over his shoulder.

Robin shot you a warning glance.

"right, not yet." you thought, swallowing back the urge to come clean.

"You be careful getting home for early in the morning. You're right about this time of year. You know." You said.

He smiled at you, "well shoot, didn't mean to scare you. You take care now." with that, Wayne stepped out the shop.

Exhaling, you looked to Robin.

"What was all that about?" She asked you.

"Haven't you seen the-"

"Where is he! Where is he, I'm gonna kill him for real!"

A voice boomed in a strained, choked up shout.

You jumped as the front door slammed.

"Dustin?" Lucas questioned, rushing out of the kitchen armed with a pan.

"Lucas!" Dustin called. "Where's the idiot! I demand to see him!" he shouted.

"Henderson?" You asked carefully.

Dustin turned to you, simmering down, his face slacking a little as he looked you over. Trying to figure out if he'd known you.

"You don't know them, that's ____." Robin explained.

Lucas rushed to the door, flipping the sign for "Open" to "Closed" before locking up.

"How was your visit with-"

"Shhh!" Dustin hushed, "don't change the subject. Where is he?" He asked again.

The Lift dinged, and the doors opened.

"Jesus, Dustin, they could hear you on Mars." Eddie spoke. His words carrying more confidence than they had been while revealing himself to the band.

"I think you've been rehearsing what this day would be like." You thought, watching over the scene.

"Eddie?" Dustin questioned quietly, arms falling to his side.

"Well, you listen well enough, haven't changed a bit - hairs a little longer." Eddie commented. Trying his best to crack a half smile.

Though, that smile vanished as the twenty something-year-old rushed forward like the freshman he once was and latched his arms around Eddie.

"You son of a bitch!" Dustin muffled face buried in the hug.

Eddie chuckled and returned the hug, batting away the water in his eyes. "You're still short, man." He teased.

"You son of a bitch..." Dustin repeated.

"Shut up or going to make me cry too, Henderson." Eddie warned.

"Um, it's kind of too late for that." Robin said.

Dustin stepped back, "You're...you're part demobat..." he exhaled, looking Eddie over.

"Tail and everything!" he nearly shouted.

"Be careful, that tail is dangerous." You jumped in.

Eddie blushed, "That was an accident, I was sleeping." He said in his own defense.

"You nearly flung ____ into the ceiling." said Lucas.

"Dustin, ____. ____, Dustin." Eddie introduced.

"So you're the one who found him?" Dustin asked you.

You simply nodded, "well that's currently in debate, I say it's like we ran into each other."

"Doesn't matter, you just stepped into a whole world of shit." Dustin said quickly.

"Wasn't expecting that reaction..." you thought.

"Has anyone told El?" Dustin asked.

Lucas and Robin simply shook their heads.

"Hopper?" Dustin tried again.

"He's on vacation with Joyce, Vow renewals and all that." said Lucas.

Dustin deflated, "So?" he lulled expectantly.

"We have us here, the band, Steve and... Mr. Clarke's working on guitar strings for Eddie." Robin replied.

"But he doesn't know they're for Eddie, or monster Eddie." Lucas added.

Dustin's dead pan stare said more than he could voice.

"Um, we might have Nancy and Erica soon." Lucas peeped.

"You're lucky I'm back early." Dustin sighed.

Taglist:

@bibieddiesgf @eddiesgirlforever @ilovetaquitosmmmm @cherrycolas-things @fan-girl-97 @obsessivelycraftygothfandomwitch

I think that was everybody who asked? I'm sorry if I missed you - shout at me, I'll fix it next chapter.

⇠ Part 1 | Part 5 | Next ⇢

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #cryptid!eddie x reader #demo!eddie x reader #eddie fic #sofiiel cryptid!fic #no reader physical descriptors #no use of y/n #eddie munson fic

[catmaidetho]

:0 i would love to hear how you write etho!

after making that post and going to bed i've realized that it's so hard for me to describe all the thoughts that go into it so

tl;dr: i have consumed an ungodly amount of ethoslab content to the point that writing him is kind of second nature

you could also probably go thru my archive for etho text posts i've rb'd, cuz those have also influenced me a lot and i'll link a few at the end. i also sincerely recommend watching and rewatching his hc7 because that is like, everything i love about etho in 40-smth episodes.

long and kind of complicated/messy answer under the cut. i tried to go as in-depth as i could w/o being overly rambly

when you think of etho, what do you think of? you probably think "mysterious cryptid redstone guy who is scary." that is the devil talking. he is not mysterious, a cryptid, or scary at all. he is just a guy who's reputation is bigger than him.

here's some (very basic) traits i'd assign to etho before any of those:

humble

reflective*

confident

competitive

friendly

mischievous

avoidant

*reflective in the sense that he mirrors other people's energy.

originally i had a whole rant typed up explaining these personality traits, but i realize you are probably a fellow ethogirl and a lot of these need no explanation. if you want an explanation/to better understand why i chose those personality traits, i am going to once again recommend his hc7, as well as checking out anything he's done with team canada (pick a series and just start watching. if you dont know where to start, one of my beloved mutuals has a neat little guide for ppl new to etho's content that includes some staple team canada content.)

some things i apply to my etho that make sense to me that might go overlooked by the casual enjoyer:

he is so incredibly neurodivergent coded. i am not going to make any assumptions on etho's brain structure, i dont think its my place, but seriously. give your etho some silly thing to be super passionate about on the side. make him easily distracted/get off topic easily. make his storage system start out well but quickly descent into chaos as he gets too lazy to use it.

he goes with the flow! this goes along with me describing him as a reflective person. he "yes, and"'s stuff like there's no tomorrow. he takes whatever energy is thrown his way, and he chucks it right back at you. he gets dragged into shenanigans and goes "oh this might as well happen! let's see how far we can take it."

he likes to avoid problems he doesn't see as immediately his own/aren't immediately affecting him. his response to moon big was literally "i'll let the other hermits deal with it. look this low gravity makes not having elytra so much easier! lets go build a bee farm." if it doesn't affect him right this instant, or there's nothing he can do about it, he will worry about it later (and probably forget to worry about it.)

he prioritizes the "fun" factor above all else. if you know what the bamboozler is, you understand this. also, the bee farm i just mentioned. if there is a very efficient/straight-forward way to do something or a very fun way to do something, he will go with the fun way most of the time. if the only option is boring, he'll find a way to make it fun.

his reputation precedes him, but his reputation is a little inaccurate to modern times. someone who doesn't know him very well might think he's menacing or scary, but the reality is that he's just a silly little guy. don't get me wrong, there is a reason he's seen as menacing, and if he wants to be he can be, but most of the time he's just here to chill.

his humor is very roundabout. he tells a very long story to get to the punchline, or he tells something that plays into stereotypes so much it's ridiculous. here are some examples. he is also a professional "your mom" joker, like i literally cannot link enough examples his staple joke is "your mom."

most importantly, i think, is that etho doesn't take himself too seriously. i think a lot about the quote from cleo that goes like, "etho doesnt say he's a grownup, he giggles and runs away." so dont make etho too serious!

HE IS LITERALLY JUST SOME GUY. i cant stress this point enough. he should have "just some guy" energy. tiny voice he's doing the best he can. things happen to him and he is mildly bewildered. something goes wrong and he needs like, one second dedicated to panicking before he does anything about it.

just for bonus content, some of my favorite posts/clips that heavily influence the way i interpret/write etho. he is so ^-^ | he calls food poisoning an adventure | evidence that etho's a former scene kid | obviously your mother never loved you 'cause you're some sorta monster :) | "you jerk" compilation | etho teasing scar in among us

#khaos.txt #khaos.qna #etho #trying to break down all the thoughts that go thru my head when writing etho is. so difficult #bcuz i dont really Think too hard while im writing? i just Go #i did my best. i hope this makes sense

[baronessblixen]

The dildo prompt: Mulder is leaving for a case. What's Scullys reaction when Mulder gets her a dildo that looks like an alien bc he wants her to think of him while he's out of town

Rated M, set in season 7-ish.

Fictober Day 17 | tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 | Wc: 1,134

Expect The Unexpected

Scully sits at the desk in the office, staring at the gift Mulder left her, baffled. Her mind is running wild over what this means. When she found the neatly wrapped package an hour ago on her desk with a note reading ‘in case you miss me’, she smiled, tearing it open.

She expected something like a good bottle of wine, a book on cryptids, or even chocolate-covered sunflower seeds. Something that would remind her of him.

What she found in that little brown box was not that at all and definitely nothing she expected.

A dildo.

Mulder, her friend and partner, got her a very colorful, very textured dildo. The tentacle shape promises an extraterrestrial amount of fun and pleasure according to the box. Scully’s cheeks turn rosy just reading these words.

What in the hell was Mulder thinking gifting her a dildo?

She puts the dildo back in its box and the box into her bag. She puts files over it and her scarf, just in case. If someone were to rob her today and steal her bag, they’d think she was into some very interesting kinks.

In her building, she runs into her elderly neighbor, who entraps her in a conversation. She clings to her bag as if afraid the dildo could just jump out and present itself in front of poor Mrs. Poole, who is currently talking about the new mailman and the fact that he’s too young to be doing the job he’s doing.

Five minutes later, Scully unlocks the door to her apartment and lets out a deep, relieved sigh. She frees the dildo of its confinements and puts it on the table before she pours herself a glass of wine. She clearly deserves one today.

Scully observes the toy as it stands there on her kitchen table, the suction cup at the base keeping it in place. She pokes at it and the tentacle jiggles, making her laugh. But only for a moment. The fact remains that Mulder got her a dildo and she still can’t figure out what he was thinking. She decides that she needs to talk to him, find out what this means.

“Mulder,” he answers the phone after a couple of rings.

“It’s me,” she says, nervously picking at her fingernails.

“Oh hi.” She can hear the smile in his voice and it relaxes her. “Miss me already? Did you get my gift?”

“That’s why I’m calling.”

“Do you like it?”

“To be honest, Mulder…”

“I know it’s a bit out there,” he says, laughing. “I saw it and thought of you.” Scully listens to his words, stares at the blue and green tentacle penis and wonders how on earth that thing reminded him of her.

“That’s very nice of you, Mulder, but… I don’t really know what to think of it.”

“You don’t?” She’s surprised how sad he sounds. Did he think she wanted him to get her a dildo? They haven’t even had sex yet. They haven’t even defined what they are – apart from best friends and co-workers. Yet here he is, buying her a sex toy.

“I was very surprised.” She tries to sound diplomatic. Even though she can’t see Mulder, she knows he’s pouting, so she keeps going. “That’s not a gift you get every day. Especially from someone you work with.”

“Is that really all I am? Wow, I really expected this call to go differently. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m out here on my own. Sounds like you need a break from me.”

“Mulder, no. Please don’t get me wrong. I love that you got me a gift, but-”

“It’s too silly, I get it.”

“It’s a dildo, Mulder!” She says it louder than she means to and clasps a hand over her mouth.

“What did you just say?”

“Your gift,” Scully explains. “You got me an alien dildo. Well, technically it’s a tentacle.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say alien dildo, but Scully, I didn’t get you a dildo.”

“Yes, you did. You left a package on my desk with a note.”

“I did,” he says slowly.

“And in the box was said dildo.”

“I- there must have been a mix-up. Scully, I swear. I didn’t mean to get you a dildo, alien or not. I was gonna get you an alien plushie. To make you think of me, your spooky partner. Fuck, I probably gave them the wrong order or something. Shit, Scully. Did you really think I got you an alien dildo?” He laughs.

“I did.” She flicks her finger against the tentacle in front of her.

“What does it look like?” Mulder asks and she hears him get comfortable on the other end of the line.

“Like a tentacle. It’s blue and green and, um, ripped for pleasure.”

“I bet it promises orgasms that are out of this world.” He chuckles.

“Mulder, can I ask you something and you promise me to be honest?”

“Yes, of course.”

“You’re not just changing your story now, right? You really didn’t mean to get me a dildo?”

“Scully, I promise. I meant to get you an alien plushie. It’s gray and looks really cute. I’ll show you a picture of it when I’m back. I’ll take the dildo off your hands, too, if you want.”

Scully glances at it. Now that she knows that Mulder didn’t get her this, she’s curious about it. It can’t harm to keep it.

“You’re awfully quiet there,” Mulder says. “Do you want to be alone with Mr. Tentacle? Has he replaced me? Just put him on the desk and see if Skinner even notices I’m gone.”

“Mulder,” she says, surprised by the intensity in her words. “I do miss you, you know.” Now she’s glad he can’t see her because her face is glowing in embarrassment. It’s her very own, very secret New Year’s resolution: let the people you know in and tell them how you feel.

“I miss you, too. And I promise I won’t be jealous if Mr. Tentacle were to share the bed with you.”

“I think he’ll move in with the others of his kind.”

“The others- Agent Scully, are you saying that you own sex toys?”

“I’m a grown woman.”

“I’m very aware of that. Do you think I’ll ever meet any of them?” Mulder asks, sounding bashful.

“You will meet Mr. Tentacle,” she says. “As for the others… we’ll see. We can talk about that when you get back.”

“I wish I could come back right away.”

“Solve the case and you’ll be back in no time.”

“Can I call you again tomorrow night?”

“You can always call me, Mulder. You know that,” she assures him. She’s already dreading work tomorrow without him there. No one to distract her, to smile at her, to talk to her. It’s been less than 24 hours and she already can’t wait to pick him up from the airport and put her arms around him.

“I’m sorry you got the wrong gift, Scully. I’ll make it up to you when I’m back, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she says. “But no apology needed. I think he’s growing on me.”

“I better hurry up with that case before you get too attached to Mr. Tentacle.”

“Just… be careful out there on your own, okay?”

“I have a team here, Scully.”

“I know, but-”

“I know, it’s not you. I’ll be careful. I want to come home as soon as possible and… talk about gifts and maybe more. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Sleep well tonight,” he says and she can hear his grin.

“Goodnight, Mulder,” she says with emphasis and hangs up. She considers leaving the dildo in the kitchen, but decides against it and brings him to the bedroom. Instead of putting him with her other sex toys, she leaves it out on the nightstand. In some way, it does remind her of Mulder. She smiles, making a mental note to tell him tomorrow.

#fictober2022 #yeah i realize this is weird #i was so tired #i'm not too unhappy with it #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[ursifors]

anyway taking a break from other aus because i've been thinking about my fallout au a lot lately! i'm currently building Eventer in fallout 4 to get pic refs but that'll take me quite some time. for now, an updated version of the au framework!

i wrote this: "since we have joe, bk, and ky now i have to add them! i think bk and ky were traveling together for awhile, both of them being from a recently opened vault. joe i think is someone from a different settlement that takes a shine to michael and follows him to Eventer." in a different post but i already want to change that so *scribbles over it* REDO god this au has so many retcons already

i had to read more this bc i started fucking RAMBLING

gavin is not a vault dweller, he is a mr. handy who was put into a synth body (like curie) this explains his british accent and also i think it just fits. i have a wip of a fanfic of them doing the procedure to transfer him into the synth body that maybe one day i'll finish and post here, who knows.

YOU KNOW I GOTTA ADD THE NEWBIES <33 it will be very hard for me to not make joe "guy who gets inexplicably attached to michael and follows him everywhere" in every single au i make but for this i think joe might be a vault dweller (for reference, jeremy and previously gavin before i retconned him were the only vault dwellers) i just think being a vault dweller can give you that kind of new baby but quickly learning the ropes feel that joe has for me still

bk is definitely a shop owner or caravaner that eventually just moved in because she made so many friends. she has such a big and friendly personality i really see her making a lot of social connections and being on good terms with most people who caravan or have stores. i think in eventer she runs a weapons store!

ky i can see as almost like, the unofficial mayor of eventer. she brings everyone together and makes the community closer! she's great at organizing events (heh) remembering important things about what the community needs or wants, ect. she isnt "in charge" as no one really has all the power, but i think her jack and trevor are the ones most respected and who people go to when they need a town wide decision made.

speaking of, i decided i wanted to have trevor and alfredo sort be what valentine is and make them detectives! i want to incorporate more red web vibes in my aus and fallout is a perfect place for that as there are canonically aliens and cryptids in the fallout universe, as well as. you know. murder and such.

as far as who lives together and their roles in the community the updated version would be:

michael and lindsay live together and run a general goods store and as such are involved in trade with other towns and farms nearby. lindsay is a ghoul in this au btw. because i couldn't not make someone a ghoul and i think ghouls are fucking badass so its them, as the most badass person in ah.

gavin lives alone but has several cats. he is the doctor and runs a small clinic out of his home.

jack lives alone and is the radio dj! mostly playing music but also settlement wide announcements when necessary and covering the news ect, like most fallout radio djs do.

trevor and alfredo live together and run a detective agency. when they don't have any cases, trevor builds stuff to help the community and alfredo picks up guard duty rounds as he is one of their most competent with a gun.

matt and jeremy live together! matt works with their livestock (which is just a handful of brahmin and also a radstaag they cant get to leave) while jeremy is more of the "main character" since i made this au because of him, so he goes off an adventures the most. of course he comes back at least every 2 days because of his cats! who if you'll remember, are an eye bot (zipper), a tiny securiton (booker), and 3 real cats.

bk and ky live together - bk runs a weapons story which i am electing right now to call Friendly Fire because thats their team name but also it FITS SO WELL OMG - anyway ky helps with this sometimes when she's not busy planning a cookout, or helping matt set up something for the animals, or giving jack news updates to talk about ect.

EDIT I FORGOT TO ADD JOE: joe lives alone and i think is the head guard like he patrols and keeps the town safe bc its very open. he also delegates patrolling schedules ect. cannot stress enough how he is not a cop tho. he is guarding the town from mole rats and raiders not arresting ppl for crimes.

#fo au #logan speaks #posts this at 3am and scampers away #achievement hunter #main tag bc im feelin wild

[lynnsworkshop]

Laketober 2022 - Day 1: Future

Hello all! I have emerged from the depths to participate in Rusty Lake’s Laketober event! I hope to be more active soon; still have a couple of stories in the works. Thanks for sticking with me this long!

(More below the cut)

CW: references to a real-life disaster

● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ● ☉ ●

Fall 2022

Ever since I was little, I’d loved the idea of cryptids, animals that may or may not exist. Sasquatch was a favorite of mine. Nessie too, of course. I fancied myself a cryptozoologist, someone who studied such creatures.

Then one day, I caught a documentary on the local history channel about a being known as Mothman. For around a one-year period, beginning in November of 1966, residents of Point Pleasant, West Virginia reported seeing a 5-7 foot tall figure with a 10-foot wingspan. It flew shockingly fast, keeping pace with highway speeds, omitting a shrill screech and lighting its way with glowing red eyes. Its last sighting took place at Point Pleasant’s Silver Bridge about a month before the structure collapsed. Some regarded Mothman as a “specter of death”.

The supernatural implications, along with the multiple eyewitness accounts, are what hooked me. Mothman was unlike any cryptid I’d heard of before. So, when new reports started trickling in last month on my favorite cryptozoology forum, I knew I had to go digging.

It began with a person claiming to have seen Mothman outside of their home in Canada. The creature stood atop a tree “like a great shadow”, remaining still for several minutes before taking flight and disappearing behind a row of trees. The second account described a large winged figure with red eyes flying over a road in northern Ontario. However, as the reports went on, they seemed to describe something more akin to Britain’s Owlman, commenting on pointed ears, clawed feet, and even a feathery appearance.

A location was brought up more than once, somewhere called Rusty Lake. That’s when the figurative dam burst. The trickle turned into a flood as people began to recount events involving not only this supposed Mothman, but also shadow people and even a lake monster. This Rusty Lake appeared to be a cryptozoological treasure trove.

I managed to get in contact with a woman who lived in the Rusty Lake area. She was reluctant to open up about the strangeness surrounding her home at first, but I persuaded her to after promising to keep her identity a secret.

“Things like your cryptids have inhabited Rusty Lake since long before I was born,” she wrote.

I messaged her back. “What kind of things?”

“They used to be human, is what I’m told. Part man and part beast. Ghosts of them too, wandering the Lake.”

“Have you ever seen one?

“Once, the Owl. It’s never a good thing when you do. They’re an omen of death. The Vanderboom brothers tempted them and the entire family was cursed. Generation after generation was met with tragedy. They’re all dead now.”

“Have investigations ever taken place?”

“People have come looking for the Lake, yes. It draws you in. Like a siren’s song, an itch that needs to be scratched, you know? Most haven’t returned. I’d advise against joining them.”

“Ghost stories don’t scare me.”

“They should.”

Despite her warnings, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. In the 21st Century, actual cryptid sightings like this were almost nonexistent. Google, surprisingly, didn’t yield a reliable result on Rusty Lake’s location. When I asked the woman, she stopped returning my messages. I was left having to turn to a good old-fashioned library.

My search would’ve lasted much longer if it weren’t for my amazing local librarians. They really took it upon themselves to help me crack the mystery of where in the world Rusty Lake is. I think they were just happy to have something to do.

Finally, yesterday, we uncovered a yellowed newspaper clipping from 1969: “Win a trip to Rusty Lake...”

#laketober #laketober 2022 #teamfuture #rusty lake #cube escape #rusty lake roots #writing #creative writing #writing snippet #story

[pink-writer-girl]

A Moth's Pursuit

Commission I did for Friend on Instagram Rotating Dendro

Warning ⚠️: Has non-explicit nudity and violence

Alfred sat in his dark Murcourt home for the longest time, nervously questioning the steps he was about to take. The auburn-haired man spent his days solving crimes and using his inheritance to finance his research. After his humiliating encounter with a Mirage cryptid, he couldn’t help but develop an obsession with them. What were they? Where did they come from? One foggy morning trolly ride would end up answering his questions. He’d never left London before, let alone think of ending up somewhere like Pale City, where the technology was so advanced. The atmosphere was shrouded in mystery and he thought his dreams were finally coming true. Eventually, Alfred found out from the other locals about how this place brought those who needed to be there to it.

Though it took him a while to get used to the new tech, he found that many cryptids that lived alongside other humans. Usually, he tried to avoid social situations unless it interested or benefited him, ‌but fish out of water had no such luxuries. The thought of mixing with the uncultured and annoying folk filled him with dread, regardless. It was then he realized that coming to Pale City was a one-way trip, well, sort of. Someone had warned once him you left ‌the trolley might not return unless you were a cryptid. He couldn’t risk going back to his mundane life.

Living in a different realm posed unique problems, lack of access to his family’s fortune being one of them, so he offered his services to the local police. Thankfully, Alfred’s consultant skills were in demand. Something about a renowned detective called “M” or whatever. He didn’t pay attention to as long as he got paid. It wasn’t enough, and the pittance barely lined his wallet. He needed to live how he used to, so he tried his hand at investments and business deals, like his father did. Unlike his father, it seemed he wasn’t very lucky in the business outlook, however. He owed people money… a lot of money.

Last week, one of those “associates” sent a brief message to pay up, which ended with him getting a black eye and bruised ribs. Even legal investments were biting him in the ass. So, being the desperate man that he was, Alfred looked for other options. After some extensive research, he found an old urban legend of a creature of shadow that lived in the woods. This creature was not to be trifled with unless you wanted to make a deal with it, which he did. Considering his precious life was on the line, he had no qualms about the price.

The man ran a hand through his hair as he sighed. It was now or never, looking at the circle and deer skull in the middle of the room. Bringing a lit match towards the circle, he dropped it in the skull, enkindling the rotting cedar wood and nightshade within. “From the shadows, I call you forth” was all he whispered as the embers changed to green and purple. He blinked, taken aback by the color, as the blackening smoke floated up until it formed a suspended shadow. Alfred retreated back as his caution grew. “Oh dear God…” he said under his breath.

“Now I wouldn’t consider myself that,” Alfred was filled with terror as an eerie voice echoed in various pitches and tones. “But a devil? I think might be the right definition,” it chuckled right behind his ear. The Englishman quickly spun around to see a dark figure resembling a rotting buck of sorts. Nervous sweat dripped from his brow as he struggled to find words. “Did you lose your voice along with your reason for summoning me?” the creature said, moving across the room and looking around.

“Y-You’re a wendigo?” Alfred stuttered.

The creature just scoffed. “No, those are spirits of the damned who feasted on the flesh of their kind in life. I was never mortal.” It was clear by its irked tone that it had been mistaken for one more than once. “You’re trying my patience. If you summoned me for idle chit chat—” I need you to kill someone!” the auburn-haired man said, cutting it off curtly. “Well, a couple of someones.”

The deer creature’s dark eyes blinked before it grinned. “The same old sin? Very well,“ the creature laughed. “But you know,“ the creature said before getting in the man’s face, “my deals always come with a price.” Its gaze grew intense as it stared him down. “I know, I know,” Alfred nodded while trying to lean away. “What is your price?” The creature hummed, looking over at the computer. “Not anything too extreme, don’t worry. I’m feeling very generous today because I’m been so bored,” the creature said, walking toward the computer. “I want to try something new, and you will shelter me while I have my fun.”

Alfred’s eyes widened at this. “Wait what?!” He gasped as he watched horrified as the shadow creature morphed into a pale man with dark hair. The process wasn’t quick though, and he even heard the bones and viscera crack and bubble I disgusting way it did. “Ah, that’s better.” A young man’s voice replaced the distorted one as it cracked its knuckles. It turned back to Alfred, who was left without words.

“I’m sorry sir—”

“You can call me Liminal,” the now-man said, standing before him. It was then it occurred to him Liminal was naked. The human averted his eyes as the naked man ransacked his drawers. “Liminal, why does someone as powerful as you need shelter?” he asked as the naked man sat cross-legged on the man’s bed lazily. “There’s those in this town who have an army can destroy me. I alone can’t defeat an army of cryptids,” he said grimly. “Are you talking about M and his group? They’re gone. They disbanded after he and his right-hand man disappeared,” Alfred said with a raised brow.

Liminal glared at the wall, hearing M’s name. That bastard was the reason he had to hide in the woods for so long. Isolated because of his strict restrictions, he had almost gone insane from it. “Yes, but his followers are still strong and have revived with his assistance.” He turned his head to Alfred, who was still looking away awkwardly at the naked man. Liminal smirked, amused. “Like what you see?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Can you please put clothes on?‘’ Alfred begged.

In the heart of Pale City laid the heart of Dog Head headquarters, a division for crime investigation. The lingering remnants of those who believed in the laws of M, since his disappearance. One of those was raised by his orphanage was Murgatroyd, a cryptid of mysterious origin with a body of a man and head of a German shepherd. Since technology advanced in the real world and Pale City, rogue cryptids had been running wild, violating M’s number one rule: ‘keeping the balance.’ They understood no cryptid could always keep their base instincts at bay, but the threat of exposure hung overhead if they would get out of control. Their city—no, everyone would be in trouble.

Murgatroyd rubbed his brows as he walked along the desks of agents busy at work. The task force had been pulling all-nighters for weeks now, because of the recent ‘computer virus’ case. Ten people had been found dead so far, their faces mangled and distorted. It was clear it couldn’t be the work of any human. At first, it seemed like something targeting businessmen who were involved with investments or under-the-table loan sharking. They had thought this curse had something to do with a former client or a poor investment. But once the next string of bodies broke the M.O., they’d hit a dead end.

“Can no one tell me what the fuck is going on!” The dogman raised his voice as he turned around to face them all. “Sir, we’re trying to track the strain, but the encryptions change every few seconds. Like it is actively protecting itself, somehow,” one of them said. “What do we have then?” He asked. “From what we can tell, the virus curse is being spread by prize email. It’s somehow able to outsmart the spam blockers of multiple ESPs.”

“Ugh, Sylphie, what do you have?” Murgatroyd asked his best agent. When he didn’t hear a response, he blinked, looking over at her area. There sat a voluptuous woman, wearing designer brands and a full face of makeup with sparkly orange French-tipped nails. It was clear she had not heard a thing her boss said. The dogman shook his head while Sylphie continued taking selfies of herself, the camera flash bouncing off her long cream-colored hair.

The older man shook his head before going over to her desk. “Sylphie, grow your vanity project on your own time,” he told her in a serious tone. “Oh hey, Chief,” she said, just realizing he was there. “Were you able to crack the encryption?” He asked again. It was the fashionable girl who leaned over and began quickly typing on the keyboard. She might not of looked it, but Sylphie was the best seasoned IT agent they had. “I was able to redirect my little virus back into the source code, sort of like echolocation,” she said as her long nails clicked against the keys.

Sylphie pulled away to face Murgatroyd, who had bent over to look at her monitor. "Hmmm, good work. Does that mean you pinpointed where it’ll strike next?" he asked, nodding. “It was tricky, but whoever it is hiding in the older buildings on the outskirts of town. I could only pull the general surrounding area,” she told him, wheeling her swivel chair back and forth. “Sylphie, you’re Mothman’s cousin, right? Why don’t you use your powers to ‘see the future?’” one coworker asked, wondering why she was making things more complicated.

The cream-haired cryptid looked at the man and deadpanned. “Ok, for one, nimrod, I’m not related to him. Yes, we’re the same species, but he’s of a different clan. Two: I don’t have premonition ability.” Sylphie was a moth cryptid, having lost most of her family and clan at a young age. She had to resort to a life of crime to survive. No one had been harmed by her, not intentionally, anyway. Usually, she used her mind manipulation to scam people out of their money. Only a few of her species were gifted with abilities of premonition. She, unfortunately, didn’t inherit it, which is also why there were very few left of her kind. Humans had hunted them to be used as a tool for their gain. Too blinded by greed and ignorance to know only a few possessed such abilities.

Her boss hummed in thought, “Sylphie, I want you to check this area. Maybe you can locate the location of the signal if you are closer,” Murgatroyd told her before leaving. This caused the moth girl to blink, then nod in agreement.

It didn’t take the curvy cryptid long to find the place. From what she found from town records, someone lived out here, in the house far off from the abandoned buildings. Pretty smart to hide in plain sight in what most thought was abandoned. Sylphie had used a program on her phone to track the signal, grumbling that her feet were killing her. Of all the days to wear heels. “I’m going to murder whoever the culprit is if my Prada heels get ruined,” she hissed under her breath as she slammed the door open of the house.

“Oh c’mon, that’s not very nice,” a voice said, coming up from the top of the stairs. Her face contorted into a frown when she saw a young man leering down at her. “Thought I was going to have to ask your ‘nightly rates’ with you looking like that,” he chuckled as he started down. She glared at him as she covered her chest with a hand, noticing his wandering gaze. “You pig,” she hissed.

“Oh, more like a demon, my dear.” His eyes seemed to radiate darkness as he spoke. The moth woman’s antenna popped out in alarm at this. She couldn’t help but sense an eerie tension in the air. “You… I thought your kind was gone,” she said as her wings slowly revealed themselves. He blinked, taken aback by her appearance, but quickly smirked. “And I thought yours was extinct,” he chuckled. “Tell me, did you predict I would be here?” he said, interested. “I don’t have premonitions,“ she told him simply. “Hmmm, pity,“ he then said with a bored look.

“You need to leave. Your activity is causing too much ruckus and messing up the balance. You’re going to get us all exposed,” she told him seriously as he walked around in circles. “You know as well as I that once I’m in a contract, I can’t do anything until I fulfill it,” he said as shadow manifested into his hand, only to reveal a boba drink. "But why should I care either way? I’ve been so bored for so long now. Why not have some fun?" he smirked darkly.

“I’m not like your kind, who made their abilities known and were hunted down like dogs. Is that what happened to your family? Were they are drawn to a pretty flame?“ Sylphie could no longer contain her rage as her human form was lost to emerging claws and fur. “Bite your tongue,” she hissed in an unnatural tone, eyes darkening.

Liminal blinked for a couple of seconds before he found his body moving by itself. He began slowly biting down on his tongue, harder and harder, until he could taste blood. His eyes widened in shock, causing Sylphie’s lips to curl into a satisfied smirk. “Bend yourself backward,” she ordered. He did without question, causing a sickening crack followed by a loud groan of pain. “You have mind manipulation?” A deep laugh accompanied his statement, leaving her perplexed.

“Very clever,” he said, pulling himself straight up, shocking her. “But I’m much older and much more experienced than you, my dear,” he said, charging at her. Both of them crashed into each other, with Liminal using shadows and teeth to swipe at her. Sylphie hissed, trying to use her manipulation again, but realized his mind was too strong. She did her best to get out her phone with the kill-switch, struggling to reach her knocked-away purse. She barely missed it by millimeters before being able to grab it. With a quick press of buttons, she activated the code, which let out a high-pitched creepy sound. It caused Liminal’s shadowy form and voice to distort as he stumbled in pain. “You whore!” He yelled madly, his body melting into a puddle of mush.

“I prefer bitch,” Sylphie said, sitting up wiping the blue blood from her lip while trying to fix her hair. “You deserved it after the trouble you caused, disrupting the balance. Do you realize what you’ve done? There’s so little of us left!” she said, grabbing at his rendered body. “M is gone! He was the only one keeping cryptids from going extinct, yet you had to cause trouble,” she yelled. “You have no idea what it’s like to face extinction! To lose everything!“

Liminal glowered at her. “I don’t know what it’s like? You know nothing, you brat!” My kind has been here longer than most cryptids combined. The forests were our home, guiding the souls of the damned to their fates, helping keep the balance. We got our strength from the spirit of nature!” He yelled at her, panting furiously. “But you know what happened… Man happened. They were still stupid, no doubt, but they grew more resourceful and greedy, cutting down our forests! Capturing us to make deals or use as attack dogs. We had to adapt to a new way to survive! Making deals with humans to do their sins…” Liminal said, looking down as he closed his eyes. Anger and sorrow wracked his frame as his hands shook. “It didn’t matter, though. We lost not only our home but our strength to where everyone in my clan withered away.”

Sylphie let go, looking at him for the longest time as his human form reassembled. “Why don’t you get a new purpose, then?” She said, earnestness clear on her face. “Work for my organization. If you do, you’ll be free. Do you want to be trapped in contracts to survive forever?” Liminal raised a brow at that, blinking before he let out a sigh. “Whatever. It’s this or death, so I think I’ll choose the alive option.”

-Fin

#cryptid #cryptids #mothman #moth character #demon deals #fanfiction #writing community #writing commissions #written commission #writing coms #supernatural writing #supernatural stories #supernatural horror #moth man #cryptid story #alternative reality #shapshifter #commissions #short stories

[arjaandsimoni]

Epilogue

Jaipur India

“And in today’s news, claims of cryptid sightings increase across the world. The internet is abuzz with speculation. Is this some sort of strange alien invasion? Perhaps our world is less normal than we thought?” said the newscaster, “What do you think viewers? Do you believe in magic? For Jaipur News, I’m Ishaan Khatri.”

Arja blew out her lips, “Hooo boy… think we’re going to get blamed for this?” she asked, glancing to Simoni.

Simoni shrugged, “Probably.” she giggled.

Nelen sat nearby, scrolling through the Wulfshead BBS, “Shaman and the others are thrilled, this means a ton more jobs that likely won’t turn out to be pointless.” he said.

Drusilla grinned, “Hah! I welcome it! Sick of hiding up in the mountains anyways! Maybe if we bust a few more my people could come down sometime eh?” she grinned.

Simoni sighed at her, “Drusilla, we need to fulfil a prophecy and gain the power of two gods in a case of double-divine intervention to break one of these. Wanna bet on the odds of us doing that again?” she asked.

Drusilla shrugged, “Ehhh, fair enough.” she grumbled.

“Personally I am just sorry to have missed such an event.” chuckled Natasha, stroking Lupe’s head. The cuts on the werewolf where Clan Fullmoon’s men had gotten her had been bandaged and treated… but they were inflicted by silver. While the werewolf would survive, they would have to heal slowly over time, like a normal injury on a mortal.

“It was pretty nuts.” grinned Stephy as he sat at the bar with Tex and Sammi. Both he and Tex had soft drinks, Sammi had made some odd mixed drink of hedge fruit and a few other things… mostly tequila.

“Well, glad ya’ll had fun lil’ filly…” replied Tex, “But… I think I’ll be okay not bein’ okay with shootin’ other humans.” he nodded, the boy having stayed back to help out where he could after the attack on the Barjar household. Upstairs the repairs had stopped for the night, but it would be a while before the damage Franklin’s loyalists had done could be undone.

Rajesh had already released a statement absolving Clan Fullmoon of guilt, stating that the perpetrators were ‘an unknown cabal of men from the United Kingdom who, thankfully, had been dealt with. The details of which he could not reveal on national security grounds, but his wife was home safe and that was what mattered most to him.’

Sammi chuckled, “Still… that will be quite the tale to tell mother.” he smirked, “And hey, we’ve brought that tiny bit of magic back to the world. I bet I could even stay a bit longer and be fine… a few days certainly.” he grinned, sipping his drink as he sat at the bar.

And in the corner Dawn sat surrounded by her family. “Behold fellow Cheshire…” she grinned, then with a loud pop she held up a tin of cat food with the lid removed. “THE POWER OF THUMBS!”

All the kittens gasped aloud, then several started shouting, ‘I want thumbs too!’ and ‘Mom we wanna learn to be like Dawn!’ and ‘I still wanna name too! Not fair that she gets one!’

As they relaxed however, footsteps came down the stairs. Rajesh entered, accompanied by Iravati and Jeannie Fullmoon, the elderly woman wearing a cloak of raven feathers over her dress, along with a circlet of silver set with a celtic knot.

Nelen looked up, “Isn’t that Eliza’s old regalia? I thought it was lost when the castle was blown apart by Claiomh Dorcadas’ destruction.” he asked.

Jeannie shrugged, “It’s th’ damndest thing grandson… ah got back ta where we were stayin’ in th’ jungle ‘n there they were, as if they we’re waitin’ fer me.” she grinned, “But… its ah bloody good thing I found ‘em… because I wanna make this official right ‘ere, right now.” she nodded, looking around at them all with a smile.

She stood in the center of the room, then tapped her cane firmly on the tiles twice. “By right of succession, I claim the vacant seat of Matriarch of Clan Fullmoon.” she nodded, “And, as me first act, I hearby revoke th’ banishment placed on Nelen Fullmoon ‘n ‘is sister Stephanie Fullmoon, or rather Simoni Barjar now, as was laid down by me late brother.” she said in a formal tone, “Yer both ta be honored among th' Clan as heroes who saved us in our darkest hour.” she grinned.

Then less formally she added, “We’ve got a lot ‘o work ta do ta repair th’ damage my mad brother caused… but family comes first in my bloody Clan, as it shoulda always been.” she nodded, “Nae more magic restrictions on our gels,” she nodded to Simoni, “nae more lyin’ to our wee ‘uns about how our magicks work neither.” she nodded to Stephy. “It’ll be a hard road, ‘n some still prefer Franklin’s ideas if not ‘is methods… but… well, nobody ever said runnin’ th’ Clan would be easy.” she smirked.

Arja grinned, “Hah, so you’re officially the matriarch now?” she grinned, “Does that mean you can see the future?” she asked.

Simoni giggled, “Yeah, c’mon Aunt Jennie. Why not let us have a peek at whats in store?” she nodded.

Jeannie looked to them, then back and forth between the two. “Hmm… aye, ah could tell ye…” she chuckled, then leaned in, “But… why don’t ye two look ta each other, ‘n tell me what yer future is gonna be?”

Arja and Simoni looked at each other… and Arja grinned a bit sheepishly as Simoni smiled and blushed. The two of them slid their hands into each other’s, giggling a bit as they did.

“Aye… ye dunnae need magic ta see that ‘un lassies…” she chuckled, “Now, ah’m gonna be on me way… its late ‘n I’m an old lady…” she nodded, “Need me beauty sleep.” she walked towards the stairs, “Rajesh, Iravati, thanks fer watchin’ after me family. Good friends are hard ta find in this world but looks like those two won th’ lottery a few times.” she chuckled.

She walked up the stairs waving goodbye as she went, then passed Aisha at the front door, sharing a smoke with one of the guards… then as she got to where a car was waiting to take her to the airport she paused, turned, and looked back at the house. Jeannie had to admit, she was curious…

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again they were all stars, and she saw…

… a minute later she blinked, and her eyes were normal again. She chuckled, “Aye, ye dunna need me ta tell ye that one gels… This won’t be yer last adventure…” she grinned, getting into the backseat of the cab, and riding off into the night.

Southern India, the Island of Sri Lanka

The figure stood in the city, looking around in confusion. This… this was all wrong. The city was full of machines, and humans, and bright lights and loud noise… what was this?!

The creature shook with fury, glaring out across this strange alien landscape. This would not stand, this would not do… and it knew how to undo it… but first it had to find something… somewhere, across the country, that accursed arrow rested.

He would find it, and he would restore the world to the way it was meant to be.

To be continued in The Supernatural Adventures of Arja & Simoni: Revenge of the Rakshasa Prince

Table of Contents

Previous Story

#supernatural adventures #fiction #modern fantasy #lgbtq

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

I posted 30,648 times in 2022

That's 2,423 more posts than 2021!

378 posts created (1%)

30,270 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@stop-pressing-e

@the-other-jugs

@cutiebooties-and-cumberbatch

@fucking-straight

@stupid-lemon-eater

I tagged 378 of my posts in 2022

#youtube - 110 posts

#vox machina - 17 posts

#apex legends - 12 posts

#lmao - 7 posts

#mood - 6 posts

#yes - 4 posts

#pokemon go - 3 posts

#caustic - 3 posts

#apex - 3 posts

#lmaoooo - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#like... i think thee'd have to be thunderbolts raining down as i flipped off the sky to motivate me to even consider... how i would tell th

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

you know, in almost every horror movie ive seen where the premise is that the whole family/community are cannibals and th3ey just have whole rooms for bodies to be hanging about in different pieces

like...99% of the movies just have it in some filthy shed or room covered in old blood and mold, with flies and meat hanging up sans refrigeration

like how has the whole ass cmmunity or family not died from rotten meat? from salmonella? half the time they don't even clean the bodies before they kill them so they're caked in mud

pretty sure humans have weird shit that lives on our skin just chilling and waiting for a cut or microtear to get inside and cause chaos

you would think an entire household or town dedicated to luring tourists and murdering them for meat would have discovered a more efficient and food safe way to do it.

not to MENTION like how does this happen? you go to a town meeting one day and on the ballot is a) lowering the speed limit around the school, b) funding the community garden restoration, and c) becoming a covert murder factory for fun, food and frivolity...

Things that would make more sense than a hotel that traps people: a SPA

the people coming in are usually the health-conscious type, they have some form of bath or soak throughout the process, they're relaxed, and you could put paralytics in the facemasks or something

not to mention, most rural towns (where this shit is usually set?) have butchers and mobile butchers at that with their own set up and clean room type equipment. there's heaps in our area. Wouldn't it be less suspicious to have them turn up, grab the bodies and transport them to another area for dismemberment? People are used to mobile butchers doing this sort of thing with cowsa, pigs, goats, etc. Plus they'd at least have clean equipment and less chance of unsanitary items used for the dispersement of meat etc.

The butcher shop would be the first place you'd think of for cold storage, but what about the freezers in the local supermarket? Assuming there's a walk-in and everyone's on board so the new people in town won't squeal to anyone.

The local ice cream truck or shop? Maybe?

If it's small enough the pub might have one of those converted shipping containers out back that's now a giant freezer.

Not sure how they'd store it, but like there has to be a better premise for the horror of the movie than 'opened fridge in dirty house to find a head or fingers'.

I think you could absolutely pull a subtle horror story out of this, and they could legit gaslight the tourists (only taking specific ones) by advertising the hotel as haunted.

you KNOW that people will already be on edge thinking they might see a ghost, and will manufacture paranormal incidents, which is the real trojan horse here. so you go in thinking its a ghost movie or maybe a cryptid movie, so when the occasional bone or skull is found it's like "oh no, the ghost/cryptid did it"

the whole time the protagonist(s) are having just the most amazing meals and customer service... never suspecting.

NOT TO MENTION none of that bone windchimes bullshit.

What is the one thing a LOT of farmers use? It smells like vomit so you always know its in use? Blood and Bone fertiliser. no questions asked for anyone who has been in a farming area. It really helps gardens bc nutrients (its legit blood and bone with other mixtures, usually the offal and such from abbottoirs)...

Maybe the locals are like super funny about it. There's a whole year-round halloween attraction with real skeletons and just enough tacky decorations that no one questions them.

Or the doctor's office has a like 6ft skeleton and the school uses it on occasion for biology.

the real question is like, what are funeral rights like in a town dedicated to eating people?

Is a town member considered Sacred and Off the Menu?

Or is it an honour to have your body shared amongst your loved ones after death? Does anything change in the event of like, an unexpected or accidental passing?

If you have a combine harvester accident, and you lose an arm, does the amputated limb go on the menu or it is carefully disposed of?

They never really look into how this whole system works in terms of a full town structure. It's always some shitty "protag snaps awake and screams at dead bodies" thing as people leer or masked people cut up bodies"

If they expanded on it, it could be interesting.

But that's just me, I'd want to know WHY a whole town went full hannibal and how that impacted all the other systems. Government, health, education, political/legal, community events?

Do they have a section for Special Meat Dishes in the local show / bake-off?

See the full post

57 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

#4

...can a mimic get into a hospital/magical medical center with dr clerics or whatever, and pretend to be an organ?

Like, eat what was in the transport carrier, and get transplanted?

That could be a really fucked up DnD campaign where it slowly starts to bond to the body and fights for ful control of the limbs, and noone in the party knows until the changes are physical...

It could go:

a) the horror route, where they lose out to them and become a monster, and perhaps this is how mimics gain the mass to become a greater threat

b) the tragic hero route, where they see they are being consumed and sacrifice themselves to save the others

c) the changeling route, where the two mix into a new entity either with, or against, the will of both the mimic and the host

d) the symbiote route, where they bond and learn to live together, even begin to work together and maybe even love one another much to the discomfort of the other party members sharing the tent

e) the trial by fire route, where only through great suffering can the means to remove the creature or make it inert be gained

f) the medusa route, where the host is strengthened through (faith, medicine, magic, other) and is able to overcome the parasitic thing and force it into inertia so it 'dies' but remains as the organ itself

g) the feral route, where the host embraces the desires radiating through them and becomes wildly unhinged around concepts like 'good/bad' and 'friend/food' as the tendrils slip into their mind but still retains primary consciousness

h) the mirror route, where the creature takes control if the host is unconsious and has a different 'self', but will usually only act to preserve the body

i) the What? route, where the hero just wakes up as a normal person with a strange ability to shapeshift or blend into surroundings without any explanation and is just like 'fuck it let's gooooo'

j) the Aw YEah route, the same as i) but it's a bard, and they use it for... reasons of charisma, seduction and experimentation

k) the What To Do When You're Expecting route, this could be the final part of a mimic lifecycle and the hero was a good option to carry their spawn or eggs or magical essence or however you want to play that. mostly bc it would be hilarious to have someone being healed mid-battle and the cleric being like, 'uh, congratulations and im not sure what it is but there's a lot of teeth...'

l) the Choose route, where the host has a crucial moment to choose to keep the mimic or destroy it despite the cost and has to think about the benefits and problems. like, it could be attached to any other letter scenario as well, or random.

m) the PAssive route, weird but hear me out... the cleric catches it, and believes fervently that their patron or deity would want them to help soothe the anger and bloodlust, to bring this creature to peace and handles the issues through intense meditation or calm

n) the Zombie route, where the creature bonds to the hero and fills their blood with spores. non toxic, not harmful, but it does push for them to bring their bodily fluids into contact with the others around them. maybe they get hurt in battle more easily, maybe they're more seductive than usual, or more violent (eg biting in fights), and it targets the party. because it wants to build a protective brood around the host that are loyal to the mimic and will die to keep it safe / has readily available back-up hosts around.

o) the It Takes a Village route, smooshing concepts (k) and (n) together, so that the mimic builds a whole interconnected family of ifferent biologies to spawn through. giving the future mimics unique and durable genetics. more autonomy for hosts, but it pushes emotional bonds as well, and builds an army to protect spawn.

p) the Bonding Song route, where it uses the basic idea of (n) but to gradually make the infected cease movement and settle in a safe, secluded place all together with one mobile to bring food to them as the others meld together physically into a big organic Thing that will slowly form into a Boss Mimic. The mobile one remaining will continue to feed it, and help lead adventurers to it.

Probably others

74 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

#3

cant shake this shitty headcanon in my brain of percy accidentally seducing the others in vox machina by teaching them how to do court dances

something the gentry and nobility are schooled in from a young age bc half their interactions with other noble houses are at balls where all dancing is regimented and very public, the most physical contact with someone outside your own household, usually

But it's all 'hands pressed as you step in counterpoint' and maybe a few flourishes or dips to show you have some mastery

its all fun and games until you realise how close you both are, and that you have the instructors full attention as he shows you how to dance (and not make an ass of yourself at the next formal dinner/ball / charity royal or-gee or whatever the money havers get up to in their free time)

Scanlan would be fun, though, imagine the strict discipline of dance trying to quell a bard whose entire way of motion to music involves hip thrusts and disco moves???

just saying, could be hilarious, could be very cute too

having trouble picturing a few of them, but as a spectator sport it would be very entertaining

89 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

#2

Master List - Creativity Help/Art Block Busting for Writers & Artists

Post for AUs & Tropes

Post for Monster-Making (Mundane Items)

Post for Dryad Creation

Post for Fae/Fairy Creation

Post for Random Character Weaknesses

Post for Random Superpowers

Post for Mermaid Making

Post for Monster Mixology

Post for Making a Randomised Centaur/Taur

Post for Winged Creatures

96 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i feel like the voix machina group could have handled the percy situation much easier if they have an enchanted like, pole catcher thing

like... "I am death and vengeance and-"

*snick* "Gotcha, let's get you a snickers."

324 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[taiblogcomics]

On to Greener Pastures

Hey there, generational gaps. Well, here we are with our finale for Green Team. It's great timing, too, since I just got a shipment in. There's not much in it, but we'll be busy another few weeks before I have to decide where we're going next~

Here's the cover:

All new, all different, all ending! There's not really much point to grand pronouncements, then, is there? Anyways, now you get to see everybody with their new powers. I hope that helps you understand Mo better than "Sunspot but purple". It's at least a little bit of a cooler team shot since they're falling instead of just standing around posing. That's the most I can say about it! It's probably not going to draw anyone in for its final issue, though~

Well, we pick up where we left off. Everyone (except LL) got distinct powers, all of which were the machinations of Temple Bellachek. And Riot is here, having provided the opportunity. Riot is also now living metal, thanks to the previous encounter. And now the big reveal: Mo gave everyone superhero names. JP's beastman power earns him the name Yowie, after the Australian cryptid. Commodore's now called Technocrat, while Cecilia is Apparition. Those aren't too bad. And then Mo named himself Super Awesome Guy!. No, really. With the exclamations point and everything. Sorry, Mo. Please leave your supranym at the door and try again.

I will continue to use their previously given names, for clarity. Also because all of them are shorter. LL, Mo's bodyguard, and the astronaut lady are also here. Like, why did she even come? Commodore demonstrates that at least he's learned over the course of the adventure, and incapacitates Riot by wrapping him in metal sheets rather than fighting him directly. Mo also discovers his "phasing displacement" power is actually teleportation, and experiments with expanding the range, dumping Riot out into Lake Michigan. And into the Roman Coliseum. That might be an OP teleport.

JP, meanwhile, just goes to town on the Riots, which is kind of what the others were trying to avoid, since he divides on impact. While the fight continues, Mo's bodyguard persuades him that Commodore's plan to confront Bellachek is foolish, and it'd be better to just abscond. Like, he even uses that specific word. If this wasn't printed eight years ago, I'd think they'd been reading my blog, I love using that word. And speaking of listening to unlikely sources, Bellachek actually takes one of his goons' advice for once and decides to leave on his helicopter. He even vows a "you haven't seen the last of me". Ha ha, yes we have~

Meanwhile, Riot just keeps making dupes faster than they can get rid of them, especially if Mo is going to teleport them all the way to Rome. Commodore attempts to pull the metal out of Riot, but it doesn't work. Failing that, he then tries to pull the entire building down on top of them. And despite his friends' protests that they're all, you know, still in the building, Commodore actually goes through with it. Even Riot is shocked, in the few moments he has left before a building falls in on him.

All our heroes make it out, though. Because, remember, Cecilia's power was intangibility. They all link hands, and she's able to extend the power through the rest of them. And then Mo just teleports them all home. They all agree that Riot is better off dead, and wonder what to do next. While JP is sensitive about his new "condition", Mo and Commodore still want to be superheroes. In fact, they can be better than most superheroes, they have money! And somewhere, Spider-Man feels his ears ringing and doesn't know why~

But no one will take them seriously with the name "Green Team". That's why Commodore has another idea. He hops in the Batmobile and drives over to visit... the Teen Titans. See? All these reviews tie back together! Anyway, we can figure out when this takes place because Kid Flash, Superboy, and Solstice are all still on the team, and Raven isn't. And so our comic ends with Commodore's generous offer: he wants it all. The name, the roster, the whole kit and kaboodle. He's going to buy the Teen Titans. I'll dissect that more in a bit, but for now, Green Team is officially over~

Well, that sure was a ride. I guess it didn’t really end with anything notable, neither outrageous or terrible. Honestly, offering to be the financial backer of an established team is actually rather reasonable. So that’s another issue where the flaunting of vast wealth didn’t break suspension of disbelief.

Let’s talk about the Teen Titans thing a little bit! Where does this fall into continuity? I kind of pointed it out when I noted the roster, but there’s only a small window where this could happen. Obviously, if Kid Flash and Solstice are still here, it can’t be after the end of the series (which was only a few months after this). But if Raven’s not on the team yet, it must be before they fought Trigon. My guess it’s right around issue 17, where they got that new boat headquarters. Obviously, this is a retcon (and only a guess, at that), since that issue was published a good year or so before Green Team even started. But it’s the only explanation I got!

Regardless, that’s the end of Green Team! It was kinda fun, kinda dumb. Really, that’s all you can want in a comic book, ideally. It was forgotten as quickly as it was published, and despite the big founding idea of “What if the 1% were superheroes”, I dunno if we really accomplished that. I feel like, if you want that, just go read Iron Man. And in the end, LL still did nothing and brought nothing to the story. What a superfluous character~

Next week, like I said, I got a shipment in. Which means it’s finally time to finish up that last dangling story arc in Equestria...

#comics #reviews #Green Team #The Green Team: Teen Trillionaires #Taiblog

[simminglytimeladies]

Cryptid vibes...

#nonsims #bleppingrl #bleppingpics #holy holy biblical accurate angels #cryptidcore #who the fuck set this shit up your shitty prop is now here lol #before you go thinking its a new cryptid in my place no this is a statue that some random construction worker thought it was a good idea

[butwhyduh]

The Art Gallery

Kyle Rayner x batsis!reader fluff

Summary: the reader has a charity benefit at an art gallery and hopes that Kyle will actually show up because he’s not the most punctual boyfriend.

“Be there. Show up,” you begged him and Kyle nodded quickly.

“I’ll be there. I promise,” he said. It was the 3rd time that week that he had flaked on you. Why was he the sweetest guy when he was with you but a complete flake otherwise?

Kyle kissed your forehead and pulled you into a hug. “Don’t worry. I won’t miss it for the world,” he promised. “I know how important this show is to you.”

“Thank you,” you said giving him a kiss.

3 hours later

Kyle was having a much harder time keeping his promise. It was an hour until the showing and he was currently fighting some kind of 12 leg tentacle monster in the Bronx. He used a giant hammer like they use at a carnival the smack the monster who was currently trying to eat him.

His phone went off. He knew it was you. But his hands were a little busy holding the monster from biting him with its nasty beak. God, what kind of cryptid is this??

“Hey Kyle, I hope you are on your way and that’s why you aren’t answering. I’m getting ready to leave and I’m going to be leaving in the next 30 minutes. I’m going to be mad if you don’t show at all and I’m hoping you ride with me. This benefit,” you said on his voicemail. “It’s a big deal for me. I didn’t have the easiest childhood growing up and this is my way to give back. Change the actual foster home that I grew up in for the better. If you don’t show.... Kyle, I don’t know how things will work. I really need to know you’re there for me. Anyways, call me back when you get the chance. I’ve got to go.”

Kyle got the alert that he got a voicemail just as he threw a green boulder at the monster. It growled at him but was slower to get up. The voicemail was forgotten as he swung a wrecking ball at it. The beast went down with a thud. Kyle dropped the wrecking ball on it and it finally stopped moving. Right before it threw up purple slime all over him.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he groaned. Kyle checked his watch. 15 minutes to be on time. And he had to shower and throw on a suit before going across town. Good thing he was Green Lantern. Kyle started flying over when his phone started ringing.

“Hey, I’m on the way. Work had me tangled up but I’m on the way,” he said quickly.

“Your work as a freelance artist?” You asked, suspiciously. “If you don’t want to come Kyle, you should just say that,” you said angrily. Yeah, he deserved that.

“No I do,” he said in earnest. “Trust me. I’ll be there. I know how important it is to you. I’ve got to go so I can get there.”

You sighed heavily. “Fine. But you better show,” you warned.

Kyle was in the process of unlocking his door when he heard a scream from down the block. No no no, that isn’t what he needs today. But clearly someone’s in trouble. He hurried over to see 4 guys surrounding a woman who was clutching her purse in fear.

“Seriously? You can’t do anything better with your time?” He said before flying down between her and them. It didn’t take much time to disable them and tie them up but it was 5 minutes he couldn’t get back. Kyle didn’t even wait to see the cops arrive before he ducked inside to shower and change.

It took 7 minutes to scrub all the goo off and 4 minutes to put on a suit, which Kyle thought was impressive. Now if he could just fly across town he would only be 5 minutes late.

Kyle got halfway there before he saw an emergency. A freakin train was driving dangerously fast into the city. Kyle looked at his suit and groaned. It was probably gonna get ruined, even under the green lantern suit. He flew close to the train to see the conductor panicking and pressing all kind of buttons. Okay, that wasn’t going to fix it.

Kyle made a new brake on the train and pulled the lever. For a minute the train started slowing before the brake snapped and the train sped up. “Shit, okay okay. Don’t panic.” Kyle strapped a huge parachute and 4 brakes on the train and it slowed down a lot but not enough. Not enough for the sharp corner it was going to need to make. Kyle created a Superman to push on the front of the train. He groaned under the strain of multiple projections. The train slowed down more but he couldn’t tell if it was enough for the curve. Kyle joined the Superman and pushed the train with his ring, willing it to slow. It whipped towards its side as it sped around the corner and he could hear the passengers screaming. Kyle created a huge hamburger helper hand to hold the train upright and it made it through the curve in one piece.

The train engineer stood up in triumph and the train started slowing on its own. It finally came to a stop on a bridge over the highway. Passengers cheered to be safe. Kyle winced when he realized he would need to get these passengers to safety off of the tracks. He made some green gondolas that started carrying the passengers to the street where cops were already arriving. It took another 20 minutes to get them all to safety.

Kyle looked at his phone as he flew of. “Shit,” he breathed. He was 20 minutes late and you had left 3 more messages. He hurried to the side entrance and almost went in without taking his green lantern suit off. He grabbed some flowers from the flower bed along the walkway, sorry, to give to you.

“Hey,” Kyle said straightening his tie as he walked over to you. He hid the collar that was black with whatever was on the train. You grinned and suddenly his frantic activity was worth it. You gave him a big hug and took the flowers from him.

“You made it,” you said, kissing his cheek. You threaded your fingers in his and gave him a tour of the gallery. “And this is the acting coordinator of the exhibit,” you said, introducing Kyle to an older woman. She shook his hand with a polite smile.

“Yes your girlfriend, she’s our biggest contributor and has made a huge difference, both for local artists and her charity. It’s pretty amazing. I couldn’t have done it without her. Do you smell motor oil,” she asked with a frown. “Or some kind of chemical smell?”

“Probably me,” he laughed nervously. “Had a flat tire. That’s why I’m late.”

“Oh that would make sense,” she nodded before excusing herself to speak to other people.

“There’s something I want to show you,” you said with a shy grin. Kyle looked at you curiously. You took his hand and a bit of a breath and guided him over to a particular piece on the wall.

It was a charcoal sketch of a woman in a bed, clearly nude but under covers, asleep. To be more precise, it was you. You watched Kyle nervously. He stared at the art and the frame and the small metal plate beneath it that simply said his name and phone number along with the title ‘freelance artist.’ He stared a little too long and you started to get nervous that he didn’t like it. You should have asked. You grasped your elbow in your hand and Kyle suddenly turned to you with a serious look.

“You didn’t have to-“

“I wanted to,” you answered his unasked question. Kyle grinned and picked you up in a hug. He twirled you in a circle and you giggled while holding his shoulder. “Put me down,” you yelped with laughter.

“Sorry, yeah. Not the place,” he said with a nervous laugh at the people staring. He rubbed the back of his neck and big his lip. “That’s amazing tho. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I did chose local artists and I happen to know a guy...” you said playfully.

“Gosh I hope it’s me,” Kyle replied with a grin.

“Of course it is,” you said holding his hand. “So why do you actually smell like industrial oil? And why were you late?”

“Well, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you later,” he said giving you a knowing look.

“I’m tingling with anticipation,” you answered dryly. “You’re okay that I picked that particular sketch...”

“Mixed feelings on my girlfriend naked in an art gallery.... but it is a really good likeness to you...... I’m kidding. It’s great,” he said kissing your forehead.

“Okay I’ve got to get back to work but there is a ton of food to try,” you said.

“Fancy food?” He said suspiciously.

“Well yeah. But we’ll go get burgers afterwards,” you said walking off. Kyle had a little grin on his face as he watched you work.

Of course he had no idea that a week later his phone would be ringing off the hook looking for work.

#Kyle Rayner x reader #green lantern x reader #Kyle Rayner #dc fanfics #dc fanfiction #batsis #kyle rayner x batsis!reader #batsis!reader #Kyle rayner fluff

[lemonhobgoblin]

A Casual Night

Mothman x human reader (gender-neutral)

Word Count: 7k

(I remember saying I would have a fic done the same week I posted my other fic. Well, that was a lie. After dealing with work, creating new wips, and editing what started as a 2k fic became this long-ass post. I tried to keep this gender-neutral, but if there are any parts thats not gender-neutral, or if something doesn't make sense give me a message and I'll fix it. Anyway hope you enjoy!)

The faint sound of your car running and the sound of the wind whipping against the surface was muddled out by old tunes playing from a random radio station filling the lonely ride home. Your eyes trained on the dark empty road ahead, your headlights on full beam, lighting your way. The subtle notes of a box of cooling pizza wafting in your direction every so often.

You were driving from a city over from where you lived, coming back from a friend’s home who was having a small get-together. It was a great time, unwinding from the stresses of work and life in general, with games, movies, playful banter, and sharing a couple of drinks. As the night progressed, things began to slow down, one of your friends passed out on the couch while everyone else turned to some lighthearted conversation. Leading the host to pipe up if they were willing to spend the night given how late it has gotten and mostly due to how much some people drank.

While everyone was willing to stay the night and continue their night of merriment. You on the other hand as well as one other person had to leave for the night due to work obligations you both had tomorrow morning.

Regretfully, you made your exit not without being offered leftovers for the ride back. But halfway home, you received an email detailing how you were not needed for work tomorrow as you were getting gas.

With this newfound information, you had the choice of making a U-turn back or continue straight home.

Rather than driving back to your friend's home, you were just going to continue your way home. You already said goodnight to them, and you were almost home even though it was still quite a ways to go. Nevertheless, they probably turned in for the night by now, and there was always next time to make it up to them.

So driving down an empty two-way road, with no lights fixture to light the road. With no other cars passing through, keeping you company. Only the trees crowding around the road giving you some sort of haunting looming audience. This was a normally busy road; however, by how late in the night it was, it was understandably dead.

Fortunately, enough, you saw your first signs of life up ahead. It seemed to be a herd of deer passing by. You honked your horn to scare them away from the oncoming danger that was your car.

Except instead of dispersing, they stayed in place, it didn’t seem out of the ordinary why else did they have the saying 'a deer in headlights.'

But what was odd, was the closer you approached the herd of deer they seemed to be floating off the pavement, apparently, they were one entity and not a group and had a pair of red glowing eyes. It stirred an unpleasant feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Promptly, an undiscernible screech erupted all around, jolting you in your seat, feeling a pang of sudden fear washing over you. Convincing yourself it was only the radio going off the fritz, peeling your eyes away from the road you scrambled to shut off the device. During your haste to bring an end to the blaring otherworldly sound, you didn’t realize how fast you were driving.

"What the fuck?!" Seeing a flash of a large dark mass smashing against your windshield - shards of glass flying around and onto you.

Swerving your car over to the side of the road, feeling the right side slope down, the bumps of the grass making you rattle and jostle in your seat. Putting your car to a complete stop.

Frantically, you scrambled to free yourself from your seatbelts, ripping yourself from your constraints, you busted out your car. Not giving a single care to the state of your car or your frazzled state. Only concerned about what or who you hit.

Jogging down, you saw a crumpled figure on the ground, he was a good distance away from where you parked. "Oh my god," You exclaimed.

“I didn’t see you coming, I’m so sorry," you yelled, hurrying to aid the individual. You didn’t get a response or see any movement - he did hit your car pretty hard.

Scared for their wellbeing you slowed down and fished for your phone in your back pocket to call for help. But before you could dial for help, you saw something that put halt to your actions. You starred in disbelief as your phone locked out.

From the figure, a wing stretched out toward the sky before folding back in itself.

What the hell did you hit?!

Cautiously, you crept forward to get a better look, you could see he was wearing a fur jacket. No. He was furry everywhere, dull in color but with an interesting print on what you believed was the wings, the pattern was similar to a moth's wing. A costume perhaps? His legs were a digitigrade structure and his feet are similar to a bird's foot arrangement. The talons of which were scraping against the road like an animal in pain.

"A moth?" Perplexed at what exactly you were looking at, it still seemed human, but it was too large in stature given it curled up on the ground. This had to be some large person in a very convincing costume. Assuming it was someone dressed up, as what you could only think of as Mothman. A random tall person dressed head to toe in an extremely convincing Mothman in the middle of an isolated road, for reasons you couldn't conjure but there had to be a rational reason as to why.

The closer you approached, the more of your rationality began to slip. Carefully you squat down, putting your hands on its back, it felt real. Too real.

The wings felt warm, stroking your hand down, you felt the ridges, bumps, and what felt like a pulse, in the wings. You noticed it had a plush ruff around its neck that could’ve been mistaken for a scarf. And there were antennas on its head, it was featherlike and twitched every few seconds. You had no desire to investigate further, yet you had a gnawing sense of curiosity that compelled you.

Besides what if was someone who was severely injured and needed immediate help. And what kind of person would you be if you just drove off without a second thought, leaving them to die. You couldn't live with yourself if that was the case.

This is too unreal. But all the signs suggested otherwise.

Bracing yourself, you gently turned him over to face you, the moment you caught a glimpse of his face, you felt instant regret surge through your veins. You stumbled backward, landing on your back, trying to push yourself away from the massive creature with your legs.

"MOTHMAN!!" You screamed.

This in turn alarmed the cryptid, flapping his wings erratically in response to your sudden outcry. It was emitting these indiscernible sounds that you had heard earlier in the car, it provoked that familiar immense fear within you.

Except, this was louder than when you were in your car, the sound reverberated through you, chills traveling up your spine. You could feel your heart palpitating within your chest, your trembling limbs growing numb. You felt your senses heightened at an alarming rate it was nauseating that you felt your mind blur. If these disquieting sounds alone could trigger your flight or fight response, without the presence of the monster. It was nothing in comparison to the full show that was in front of you, it was overwhelming in all the senses, inciting you to get far as possible.

"Holy shit!" Pulling yourself from your state of shock, you turned over onto your hands and knees, pushing yourself up and away, making a straight beeline to your car without delay.

The screeching stopped behind you. Glancing back toward the monster curious if it was making a move towards you. But all you saw was a poor incapacitated being, pitifully attempting to lift itself away. One of its wings was flapping while the other was barely moving at all. When it tried to move its stiff wing, it wouldn't fully extend before retracting it back, making what sounded like a pained low screech.

In all honesty, even in your fear-driven state, it pained you to witness this distressing scene. Pondering back and forth between taking the car and leaving, or taking your chances with the monster.

Inching toward the car, all without removing your eyes from the scene. Then you heard a more distressing shrill, stopping you dead in your tracks. You couldn't leave him.

He still needs help.

Inhaling a deep breath, you shakily walked back, each step was challenging you felt so weak in the knees and you felt lighter than usual. Your mouth desiccated of any moisture but persisted in swallowing nothing. It felt as if you were walking down to your execution and it might as well be. You couldn't predict what it would do or what it was capable of doing if you got any closer. Regardless, you tried to push your fears aside and help him, even if it killed you.

"Hold on, I'm not gonna hurt you. Just don’t hurt me please." Easing yourself onto your knees, mindful of not doing any sudden movements to provoke it any further for both of your sakes.

Bringing a hand back to where you had it before, you delicately brushed your hand up and down in small strokes on its wing. Focusing on his state and not his appearance, you saw cuts and scrapes littering its wings and body.

You grazed over an open wound, causing the creature to flinch, silently apologizing to him in a hushed tone before continuing to pet him while avoiding any more wounds.

Its breathing began to slow, quelling its jitters. You took this as an indicator of the creature growing at ease at your presence. “See I just wanna help." You whispered as the Moth creature peered up, gazing into your eyes in a sort of mutual understanding. Ensuring a feeling of reprieve within you and within him, or so you thought. It was soon to be proven wrong. The moment was short-lived when the cryptid began to thrash around again, this time trying to keep you away from him.

"Wait I thought we had an understanding there." Pulling yourself into a ball to avoid the cryptid's violent flapping wing and arms recklessly whipping around. "The eye contact we had! The eye contact!" you screamed after being betrayed by this false sense of amicable trust you thought you both had shared at that moment. But this ineffectively did nothing to fix the dilemma, merely adding more to the chaos.

"Please I want to help you." Reaching your hand out to calm him once more, without the screaming and flailing this time. "This was my fault, I wanna help and then you can go on your Mothman way, okay?" You tried to coax. Once more the monster began to quiet down, its quick shallow breathing slowed. Weary of his soothed behavior, you waited a bit before wrapping his arm over your neck.

"Okay, I'm gonna pick you up or at least try to." You said, guiding him upward into a standing position.

"Christ, you’re heavy!" Bending under the weight, propping him against your frame, so you could get a proper footing and grip on him. You struggled to the car, trudging over, but not without one of your legs giving out from under the weight occasionally. What caught your eye was how his head lulled forward or side to side, he might be disoriented from the blow. Not wanting to move his head much, you trudged much slower than you already were and stopped every few seconds.

Arriving at you your vehicle, you rested against your car, before opening the car door and easing him inside into the backseat. Tucking in any stray limbs and wings fully inside the car. Shutting the door you looked at the heavily cracked windshield. It was damaged pretty well, you summarized that you had to slowly drive all the way home. Wait home.

"Wait, I can't just bring you to my house." You said, bringing a hand to your mouth, realizing a new issue. "Someone's gonna see you." Remembering you lived on a busy street near pubs and shops, and it was Friday night you could only assume there were still people out and about enjoying the nightlife. Peering inside your car, your eyes locked on your jacket in the front seat.

"Maybe I can disguise you, and it is Friday night maybe people would be too drunk to notice."

"As long as we don't draw too much attention." You said, getting into your seat and starting up the engine. But something about saying those words aloud, felt like it was going to bite you in the ass but what’s the worst that can happen, you had him handled.

….

Here you were driving back home with the low-volume melody playing like before. However, this was different, before you were alone and you welcomed the tranquil ambiance you had riding home. But now you were riding back with an elusive creature. Creating an unsettling silence within the vehicle. What was maddening was that you were unsure what he was thinking, making you unsure of what to do besides drive. Maybe you were overthinking this but you felt you had to do something to break this disorienting atmosphere because this was too hard to fathom as reality.

"D-Do you want gum? L-Leftover pizza?" Your voice cracked, quickly clearing your throat asking again in a stronger confident voice.

No response. You tapped your fingers on the steering wheel, sucking in your cheek prompting you to purse your lips in your endeavor of finding what else to say. Flitting your eyes back and forth from the road to looking around your car on what else to offer.

"My coat?"

No response again.

Looking at your rearview mirror to get a glimpse of the cryptid only to be met with its red eyes staring directly back at you. Hastily looking back to the road and sinking into your seat, alarmed. How long was he staring at you? Why was he staring? At least he seemed less disoriented now, but you didn’t need that right now, maybe you could draw his attention onto something else other than you.

"How about some air?" you asked, hoping he would stare out the window or put his head out, anything but him staring at you all the way home. Gliding your left hand over to the window control panel on the side of your door, you pushed down a button making his window rolled down. This captured his attention, redirecting his gaze towards the open window, watching the trees and road signs passing by. O thank god. but just as he turned his head to the outside, he took this as an invitation to spread his wings to catch some air.

"That doesn't mean you can start flapping, put your wings down." Whipping your head back and forth from the creature to the road, drawing a hand at him, swinging it around to get him to fold his wings down. "PUT YOUR WINGS DOWN! PUT YOUR WINGS DOWN!" Veering your car off to the side of the road.

.....

Back on the road, after sorting out the matter. "Okay, no rolled down windows." You remarked. Mothman looking like a perfect angel in the back tapping at the rolled-up window while you were in the front with your hair messed up and arms lightly scratched. You weren't a mother, but you now had a vague idea of what it would be like and further respect and admiration for them.

Needless to say, you rode the entire way back in silence without a single word being uttered.

…..

Steering your car on the side of the street in front of an apartment complex, you placed your car in park. You turned off the engine. Street lamps and other building lights were illuminating the street. The neon signs from the local business started to shut off, looked like some of them are turning in for the night.

You snatched your jacket from the passenger seat before slipping out and making your way to open Mothman’s car door.

"We need to move, quickly." Throwing your coat over him to conceal him in the event of someone walking by. Mothman pawed at the coat and clutching it closer to get a better look and smell of the material. After gathering your phone and keys, you whirled back toward Mothman. Fussing at him to not move the jacket, readjusting it over his head. You surveyed the streets for anyone coming down or seem like they are heading out in your direction.

Once more putting his arm around you, you strode as quickly as you possibly could to the complex without either of you falling over. Mercifully, you got to the door with no problem at all or bumping into anyone.

Until you heard something you’ve been dreading on the way home, something that made your heart sank down into the deep trenches of your stomach

"Holy shit! Is that Mothman!?!" A male voice exclaimed.

You whirled your head toward the stranger who was slowly approaching you two. Fuck!

Where did he come from and what made him so confident that he’s looking at Mothman. You glanced back over to Mothman noticing that the jacket that was covering his face, was now draped over his shoulders. Drastically you scoured your brain for an excuse or some sort of explanation to counter how this wasn't a cryptid. But he beat you to the punch before you had a chance to find a solid response.

"Dude sick costume!" He said excitedly.

O fuck. Relieved that it wasn't the worse, but you were surprised he didn't question any further especially how close he was to you both. Even you would've questioned, the details and just the overall realism of said 'costume'. It didn't take long for the answer to hit you square in the nose. When a waft of alcohol invaded your nostrils, the man was drunk, and you never were more grateful.

"Thanks." You nervously laughed.

"That’s crazy good man, you did this all yourself?” He asked enthusiastically towards Mothman, beholding every bit of intricacy on the creature.

"He can’t talk right now; he drank too much to function." You interjected. “We just got back from a party.”

"I gotcha, but is it okay if I get a photo though?"

FUCK! you blurted internally, but externally with faux delight, you said "Sure!"

" 'Chad' you cool with that?" you sheepishly asked your moth friend with the first name you could think of for him. And why were you asking him? As if he could make a cohesive verbal response. But you were hoping at this moment he could magically talk, alas all he did was blankly stare.

"I'm not hearing a no." You heard the man say and you woefully agreed.

"Gimme a sec." The man pulled out his phone and tapping it unlocked.

"Okay," your heart was racing in your chest and you could feel a layer of sweat beginning to form and pool in places. But by some sweet grace of some higher being, a miracle happened right before your eyes. You heard a melodious chime sweetly ring through the crisp early fall air.

"O dang getting a call, hold on" the man answered the call, turning his back towards you.

Maybe there was a god, after all, a fucking sadist with a sick sense of humor. Either way, you were not about to pass up this chance for a free getaway.

You took this God-given opportunity to jam your key into the lock swiftly to get the both of you inside. Twisting to unlock the entrance, you could overhear the man to what sounded like him wrapping up his conservation. Turning the knob, you ushered Mothman and yourself inside the apartment complex, but not without throwing a quick apology to the stranger. Slamming your back against the door shutting it closed, a wave of relief washed over you.

"Aw man, that was too close." leaning your head against the door, desperate for a quick breath from your ordeal. You hadn't felt this much adrenaline since, since. You were so winded you couldn't even recall a memory.

Peeling yourself off from the door, feeling ready to make the final steps home. Deceptively though your body wasn’t as ready to move just yet.

"Nope wait." still trying to catch your breath. Doubling over, leaning forward, and resting your hands on your knees. Mothman all the while just tilted his head at you, confused. While you were over there feeling like you were going to be sick. The wave of nausea quickly fading away allowing you to straighten yourself out.

"Okay, we're good." You said as you grabbed his hand leading him up the stairs. Unbeknownst to you, the large creature was zoning in at the unfamiliar contact.

During his entire time with you, he was just as wary of you as you were with him. He wasn’t one to present himself to people, only as a forewarning of what was to come or an indication that Mothman will be the very last thing they would see. He trailed and stalked others like you in your car but was never hit, that was a first for him. Albeit though, him getting hit with your car, leaving him cut up and bruised did give him another reason to be extremely defensive and antsy around you.

Yet, you were gentle, loud but gentle with him when he wasn’t. Risking your safety in an effort for him to get mended. Lightly ghosting his thumb over the soft skin of your hand, tightening his hold on you. But you didn't notice, you were too preoccupied with climbing higher up the stairs, vigilant for any neighbors.

"Come on we're almost to my place." Giving a reassuring hand squeeze.

"Try to stay quiet a little longer." Peering back at the cryptid flashing him a quick warm smile, before looking back straight ahead. The creature looked directly at you, then to stairs, and back to you again. He came up with a grand idea to help with your effort. But first, he had to gain your attention and for this to work, he had to disregard everything you told him not to do earlier. The cryptid started to emit his screech directly at you to get your attention. And to you, he was making a ruckus, that was echoing through the entire stairwell and halls.

"What part of stay quiet do you not understand?" Grimacing at the noise. You stopped your movement, aiming to cover his mouth with your free hand, you felt his mandibles tickling underneath your palm.

The creature pulled your hand away and into his own, clutching both of his hands close to himself, bringing you into him. This gesture was unexpected and left you feeling warm in the face by how close he was pressing you into him. But it didn't last long when he began to bend his knee and flap his wing readying himself to fly up.

"Wait don't" Pushing yourself away from him, you freed yourself from his grasp to stop his actions. He was still injured this would only cause more harm to him and to you if he tried doing what you thought he was about to do. In your effort to stop him, Mothman tried to reach out for you again, only for his wing to smack into you causing you to land on the hard edge of the concrete stairs; headfirst. “Shit."

Groaning, "Well, I deserved that." you brought your hand to your head, you winced at the touch. As you yanked your hand away you caught a glimpse of red in your peripherals. Bringing the hand in your line of vision you saw blood smeared on the tips of your fingers.

Mothman immediately brought his actions to a halt when he saw what he had done to you. His antennas drooped down, he came close, giving you a hand up. Gladly accepting the gesture, he brought you up to an upright position, he felt bad for what he had done to you. Tentatively, he brought a hand up, lightly swiping his claws over your forehead making a low pained screech.

“It’s okay, you just wanted help didn’t you.” He nodded in response, you pressed a hand to the wound preventing the blood from dripping down. You couldn’t be mad at him he didn’t know better, and you did hurt him first, it only felt fair. Disrupting this tender moment, you heard yelling and heavy footsteps approaching one of the doors on the floor you were on.

"Let’s go!" you rushed up the stairs, luckily for you both it was the final flight of stairs. Reaching the top of steps in record time when you heard the front swing door open.

"What's with all that commotion!?" A neighbor yelled upward toward the sound of your feet stomping up. Coming to an abrupt halt at your door, you whispered for Mothman to stay where he was, while you dealt with the matter below. But he decided to follow behind instead, not wanting to leave your side.

"Sorry I was just goofing" You admitted, showing your face over the rail, outing yourself to your neighbor.

"Sorry my ass, I got work early tomorrow, you expect me to sleep with this fucking racket outside, and now this." They argued back, and rightly so, who wouldn’t complain about an unearthly ear-piercing screech penetrating through the halls along with banging sounds hitting all around the walls. But you couldn’t help but feel annoyed

"I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, promise." You leaned forward resting against the rail while one leg was kicked up behind you, preventing Mothman from coming toward the railing. You exchanged a few more words with your neighbor to avoid the landlord getting involved. Finishing up, you pulled yourself away calling it wraps on the conversation as the individual below continued spewing profanities at you and about the building.

You unlocked and opened your door “In! In! In!" You shoved the imposing cryptid inside, already getting peeved by the neighbor's continuous rambling. It wasn’t anything new they hated everyone in the building, but it wasn’t something you grew used to though.

"Jesus Christ finally." you sighed, kicking the door behind shut.

Slipping off your shoes, leaving them by the entrance, your feet ached in relief from its constructing confines. Dragging yourself through the small hall leading the way to the main part of your home, it was small but cozy.

"Here we are home sweet home." you chimed, leading Mothman further into the living room, grabbing the jacket from him and tossing it to the couch. As well as turning on a lamp to properly illuminate the room. It didn't take long for Mothman to be drawn to the light fixture like the moth he was. He grabbed the lamp hugging it towards him, looking directly at the bulb. Chuckling at the sight, you could’ve given him a flashlight on the way home if he was going to be this mesmerized. You proceeded to make your way to the kitchen for your first aid kit.

"You can make yourself comfortable, but don’t wreck anything please," you shouted from the room over, but Mothman was unbothered, he was solely transfixed on the soft light, eyes wide and grabbing at the lampshade. "I'm gonna go find my first aid kit to fix you and my cut." You really hoped nothing else gets broken, there was already enough screaming and thrashing for the night.

Shuffling through the kitchen, trying to remember where you last placed the kit. You rested and slid a hand over the cool smooth linoleum counter, looking between cabinets for any sign of a small box. Coming to the last cabinet, you rummaged through before finally pulling out your first aid kit.

But you couldn’t help but stop and think about tonight’s events. It started as a fun night, then filled with pure dread, mothering, and now what felt like taking care of a drunk long-time friend. Except, what really dominated your mind was this odd feeling you started to feel, you recounted back in the hall the way he held you close. It made you feel bashful, to say the least. Up to now, you saw him as a friendly harmless dare you say, an unexpected friend. But that didn’t accurately describe what you were feeling. Shaking your heading, you had other pressing matters to attend to.

"Got it, let's see." And not to your surprise you saw the tall cryptid sitting on the couch, clutching the lamp close to him as if it was his lifeline. You contemplated whether you should take the lamp away. But he looked to be enjoying the light source, hearing faint happy chirps emitting from him. Sadly, you decided to ruin his fun, seeing as there were wounds you needed to tend to on his chest and you needed the light to properly see them.

You attempted to pull the lamp away so you could have better access to examine his injuries. In response, he chittered in objection to his lamp being taken, and nothing was going to separate him from his precious lamp. He was going to soon learn that the lamp was barely holding onto the outlet. Hugging it closer to himself, the plug came out, extinguishing the light. Perplexed as to where his light disappeared to, he presented the lamp towards you hoping you would bring the light back.

“I’ll bring it back, but only until I get a look at you.” He nodded vigorously as you grabbed the lamp and setting back on the mini table, blindingly trying to find the plug and inserting back into the outlet turning on the lamp again. You sat on the couch next to him, motioning for him to come closer so you could get to work.

......

"I don’t see any major cuts or anything broken." Scouting out the state of the injuries, they were honestly not that bad, you guessed it was probably due to the now dried flaky blood around his cuts gave the appearance that they worse than what they were. He got pretty lucky but it was probably due to his build that he was capable of taking on more than a couple of hits.

"Only just a sprain and a couple of cuts, that’s a relief" Thinking to yourself glad it wasn't any worse, you couldn't imagine the stress of trying to keep him at your apartment while he heals, and away from your neighbors’ eyes. The fear of him getting caught and taken away and dissected. Being bombarded by officials and Mothman lovers. And getting questioned or probed, maybe even both. You didn’t know if they would, but you knew deep in your heart they would probe you for answers. Stopping your paranoid-filled train of thought from delving any further. You finished tying up a couple of loose ends and sticking on on salve on minor areas.

"See all better. Don’t move too much, it'll heal quickly that way" Gathering any trash to throw away. Everything is fine now; you don’t have plans tomorrow so you could probably sneak him back out the next night.

Huh.

Letting him go. The idea of it should have given you some relief and yet you couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Would he come to visit again? No that would be reckless. Or you could convince him to stay longer to heal, no that would be irresponsible and selfish of you. He deserves to go back, and you're going to help him get back on his feet and let him be on his way. You walked back to the room.

“Feel much better?” you inquired to Mothman who busy was playing with the bandages on him.

He looked directly at you and nodded in response.

"That’s good, the sooner you get better the sooner you can leave," you told him, seating yourself back next to Mothman who hasn’t kept his eyes off of you. You peered up to catch a glimpse of what he was doing, only to capture him looking directly at you with his head tilted.

Not this again. you thought.

He’s certainly not making this any easier. You looked away trying to focus on anything else in the room before you resorted to looking at the floor.

"You know it’s still kinda crazy, that this is even real. Like I feel like I’m going insane," you jokingly confessed to Mothman, laughing to yourself. But you thought about it more, maybe you were, "O my God is this what a psychological break is?" You looked back at him, having an unfazed look on him.

"Can I?" you asked reaching a hand forward. He stared at your hand for a bit, until he leaned forward giving you permission to proceed.

"So soft" allowing yourself to fully feel him, combing your hand through his dark fur and traveling up his ruff. It was surprisingly plush for how it looked, it felt you were touching a cloud but with some tiny debris within it. You gathered more courage to let your hand wander up to his face, giving a couple of brushes before stopping your motion, cupping the side face. His eyes were a brilliant red color comparable to a lustrous gem.

"You really are real." You muttered, stroking a thumb over his cheek.

Mothman brought a clawed hand to your face in a likewise manner, curious of your own features. Where for him he found them peculiar and to other individuals such as yourself they found it normal. The universe was messed up, making it much harder for you to separate yourself from him when the time comes for him to leave, but you allowed this, forgetting your initial plan.

Feeling a sharp claw gliding up against your skin, perfectly capable of nicking you or doing so much worse to you than you could imagine. But he had no intention to do so, merely entranced by you.

His hand wandered up to your forehead, where your gash was, flaky and dried the blood was chipping at the edges. His antennas lowered and chirped in response, for what he did to you back at the stairwell, he didn't mean to. Even if you said it was alright, it still didn’t make him better, bringing a hand to skim the wound, you flinched at the sharp pain of your forgotten injury, knocking you out of your trance-like state.

Mothman drawing back in his seat, alert and worried thinking he hurt you again.

“It’s okay, you did nothing wrong.”

You reached a hand out to calm him, you aimed for his arm but managed to miss and land your hand on his thigh. Wow, that’s great! you internally cringed feeling a blush rush over you, instead of pulling back you still tried to alleviate him by patting his leg, telling him it was the injury that was hurting you not him.

Instead of defusing his concerned mindset, he only tried to push away from you to avoid causing you any further harm. Hand still anchored on his thigh, you launched yourself trying to stop him from hurting himself more.

Fortunately, with your luck, you ended up top of him, Mothman laying on the couch while you hovered over him, with both of your legs planted on either side of his thigh. Your left knee was alarming close to his crotch if you moved an inch closer you would be bumping your knee right into it. Your hands rested squarely on his chest, finger splayed out as you looked down at him with a similar wide-eyed expression.

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Maintaining your effort of trying to console Mothman, you coughed to clear your throat and your mind of any dirty thoughts from springing up. “Hey, I know you didn’t mean to, and if you did, I would tell you and- and I’m sorry that I gave you the impression that you hurt me and I’m sorry for hitting you with my car, I feel like saying it doesn’t do justice for what I did.” You panted after your long-winded speech.

“Also, I’m sorry for tackling you down that wasn’t my intention. So, you good? I didn’t hurt you?”

He slowly shook his head, as a response that you didn’t hurt him. Startled yes. Hurt no. Bobbing your head in understanding, you carefully crawled off him.

"Well, I guess I should go get the blood washed off, I'll be right back." You informed the still cryptid who made no effort of getting up, just continued to lay on the couch staring straight ahead in shock.

Walking off to clean off the blood and to regain your composure. You were just going through too many emotions than you should for the night. On your way to take care of your problem, you could’ve sworn you heard something akin to a cat purring where Mothman was. But you blew it off and justified it as hearing the blood rushing and the beat of your heart pounding in your ears.

Striding down a hall and into the bathroom you turned the faucet on allowing the water to flow into the sink and onto your hands. Water pooled in your cupped hands before splashing the cold water onto your face, the water, and dried blood dripping together down around the curves and grooves of your face into the porcelain bowl below. It was a satisfying contrast to your heated face, splashing another round of water at your face but an intrusive memory replayed the moment that happened a few seconds ago. Leaving your face buried in your hands, groaning from sheer embarrassment. Fucking hell why am I like this?!

Unwillingly you slid your hands off and look at yourself in the mirror you looked like the accurate personification of a hot mess. You weren’t going to think too much into this, you are going to pretend what happened didn’t happen, you were going to disinfect and stick a bandage on your cut and not dwell on your emotions around the situation at hand. Allowing him to leave as soon as he is better and not have any other affiliations with him again.

Opening the medicine cabinet for an alcohol wipe and unwrapping the wipe from its small packaging.

"Now for the worst part." Quietly hissing at the contact with the antiseptic. Finishing up on cleaning the wound, you foraged through the cabinet looking for a bandaid. Noting there wasn’t one to be found, you sighed.

Guess I need to go find one.

Turning toward the door to walk out, you looked up and saw Mothman standing at the doorway, watching.

How long was he standing? And how the hell is he so silent for such a big guy and why wasn't he like this before? You were about to question him what he was doing here or if needed something when you noticed he was fiddling with a band-aid in hand. Slowly he brought it up, placing it over your cut.

"Thanks." Laying a hand over the band-aid, feeling not just your cheeks warming up but now a butterfly feeling in your stomach, solidifying your emotions for him.

So much for my plan.

Weaseling past him, before enthusiastically asking him, "Well, we got time to pass, so what do you want to do?"

…..

The sun rays bled through the curtains lightening up your home, the light seeping past your eyelashes and into your eyelids forcing you to wake up. Blinded by the light, you groaned in discomfort, pushing yourself up hearing a couple pops in your back. Rubbing a hand up and down your face trying to wipe away the sleep.

What the hell happened here? Why was there glass everywhere? Looking up you saw your window smashed in with only a few jagged pieces in place around the sides. Turning your attention away you looked around the room, wasn’t there someone else here. O yeah.

But the question was, how did you end up falling asleep on the floor, and where was the large cryptid. Wait a minute.

…

"No, you can't go out, you're still hurt." Trying to hold him back from going through the window. Everything was fine, you both were sitting on the couch, watching whatever, and snacking on fruit, and next, you found yourself asleep but woke up to a ruckus, the tv still on, and seeing Mothman trying to rip the curtain off the window nearby. Jumping to action to stop him, he successfully pulled off the curtains along with the rack, you assumed he was trying to leave even though he wasn’t better or so you thought.

And here you were struggling to hold him back, you thought he was difficult before but now that he fully adjusted and patched, you fully experienced that he was pure indomitable power.

"At least wait till the street is clear." You insisted, noticing some people walking or jogging down the street in the dark early morning. But he didn't listen he was adamant in making his exit. So, you made the decision to let him go.

"Okay, okay at least let me get the window, I don’t want glass on the floor." Racing in front of him to slide the window open. A quick gust of wind whipped against your face, causing you to squint your eyes in response.

"There! AH-!" the last thing you saw was Mothman coming at you and the last thing you felt was his frame bulldozing you down by fast approaching torso.

…

"O right." That explains how you ended up on the floor and the glass strewn all over the floor. More incredibly, even when you opened the window, the creature still managed to break the window in its haste to leave. Your head was pounding, he really is a force to be reckoned with. Bringing a hand to your head, you winced at the contact to your forehead but noticed something else. Delicately raising a hand back to your forehead and skimming along the surface. There was the band-aid from the stairwell and on the other side was another. You didn’t remember adding when did you?

Oh.

……

"My window," you muttered groggily, your vision fading out not before the moth creature gave his assistance to you for the last time and a thanks to you by sticking a band-aid on your sure-to-be bruised noggin as you lulled into an unconscious state.

……

At least bug boy was nice enough to get you another band-aid when he put you out cold, before making his exit. Slowly standing up to get started on assessing the mess and knowing full well that you needed to inform your landlord of the window. You peered out the window, curious of any indication of Mothman to spot, unfortunately, all there was to see the was hustle and bustle of the city around and below.

Turning your attention back to the mess, maybe you could make a fib of some large man drunk man pretending to be Mothman breaking into your home believing it was his. Sighing, you went to grab a broom to clean up the mess, at least you were able to encounter a real living and breathing legend. Made you wonder if other cryptids exist, but you’re pretty sure handling one creature was enough for now after last night.

Finishing up, you gathered all the shards and brought them to the trash. You didn’t have work for today, which gave you the opportunity to get a breather and get things done. Making your way to your room and getting ready for the day.

As you were getting clothes on and getting a good look at yourself in the mirror. There square above your eyes and your right eye was a bruise evident from last night's escapades. Shaking your head, laughing to yourself you weren’t going to be able to cover up the contusion. Bringing a hand to your head, you couldn’t help but smile at the cryptids' cute gesture. Walking out of the restroom deciding to let the shiner shine, ready to do some damage control.

Grabbing your keys, and heading out the door, and yet you couldn't stop thinking of that little moth guy. What are the chances of seeing him again? Probably unlikely, a mere once in a lifetime chance but you were grateful to encounter a sweet bug boy like him.

#mothman #mothman x reader #mothman x human #exophilia #cryptid #cryptid x reader #mothman fanfiction #mothman imagine #monster #monster lover #mothman my beloved #monster fucker #monster x human #monster romance

[probably-haven]

Hello!! After seeing what you wrote about xiaoven fics I went to see what things you usually write and omg, your archon Venti headcanons????? I am absolutely in love. So if it isn't annoying, could you talk about xiaoven or Venti or Xiao or whatever ship or character you like? I don't care what you are going to say, I just want to know more about your thoughts ^^

I- is this... bestie, this is essentially a free ramble pass- kerujsgheskdfug. Trust me when I say that in no way is this, and in no way will it ever be annoying in the slightest- i literally- lets just say rambling off thoughts is kind of my specialty, especially when provided a topic to branch off of because otherwise I'm just- really indecisive about it so- iujskdh yeah- 100% definitely down to talk about Venti, Xiao, and/or Xiaoven XD. Also, yes- it may have been awhile since i last posted one(cuz again, indecisive about which direction to take part 5), but the Archon War Era Venti headcanons are still without a doubt my favorite posts I've made. It's just such an interesting topic with such endless potential that so few people actually think about or consider or even realize is there, so i always just get really psyched whenever i see someone interact with them lol.

.... this ended up being a bit of a mess: warning in advance

Anyway! onto the actual content!

- You see the thing about Xiaoven is that there's a lot of different ways that it could end up working out, and just personally my favorite way of portraying Xiaoven in my mind is as an unlabeled relationship because if anyone in genshin would give off that vibe its these two. And a number of other reasons.

- Firstly, I heavily headcanon Venti as being an aroace polyplatonic or perhaps heavily demiromantic. However, regardless of this I just don't think that Venti is really the kind of person to worry about how he should label his feelings, thinking it's silly to try to put them in one box or the other, especially with feelings and emotions being as fluid as they are in general. Plus it fits his whole God of Freedom vibe. I just- dont think he's the biggest fan of labels or social categorization in general.

- And secondly on the hand of Xiao... his defense mechanisms are very much ingrained in his personality. It's probably hard enough for him to not go into fight or flight(the answer is fight) at the slightest affection at first, at the slightest feeling of vulnerability. Even further down the line, with his fierce dedication to Liyue, I cant help but get the vibe that the moment he recognized that he was falling for Venti he would begin avoiding him, not only to avoid distraction from his duty, but to avoid corrupting him or losing him in general like he has with like basically every other person he gets close with(even believing that the cycle had repeated once more when he first heard of Morax's death)... now imagine Venti tryna slap a label on their relationship and tell me Xiao would have a positive reaction.

- The thing with Xiaoven.... honestly, i feel like theres more ways that it can go wrong than it can go right, but if they do manage to make their relationship work out, it's just simply beautiful in all terms of the word.

- Lets talk about killing. - During the Archon War, both were forced to kill a large number of people and gods alike- Venti out of a need to remain alive to protect Mondstadt, it's freedom, and the nameless bard's legacy by extent- and Xiao out of servitude to the god that was once his master

..... actually- break here- ive talked a lot about Venti on this blog but I havent actually spoken about Xiao all that much- so i should probably do that a bit first... do note though that my characterization of Xiao is pretty flexible actually- this is just- the possible characterization of him that i tend to favor as being the most- uh- "realistically complex"

-

Theres a line I saw this one time in a certain story: "He is a trained weapon. That's what he is, was, and always will be. You cannot change that so stop trying." And i just- think its a really interesting concept- that applies pretty well to Xiao now that i actually think about it. - the concept behind it is this: After spending more than a vast majority of his life killing or otherwise in battle, it's become a part of who he is, a normalcy that after centuries and centuries would be near impossible to get rid of or reverse, and even if it was possible, with his karmic debt constantly eating away at him its unlikely he has enough time left for that to happen. - it sounds like a cruel thing to say about him- but in context it's actually pretty layered and i think about it a lot. It's not as much a "he's a killer lol, that his whole personality" its more of a "The centuries of trauma he experienced have conditioned him into a constantly alert and battle ready mindset while also shaping his dehumanizing inferior-in-worth-but-superior-in-capability view of himself that would have likely been necessary to get through those time, and at this point he's been under that conditioning for long enough that it's essentially ingrained itself in his personality."

- the main idea is- it's a part of who he is, that needs to be accepted as who he is because its not something that he can just up and change. It's not all he is of course but his constant battle mode, as though always waiting to be ambushed or to be granted a new target to eradicate.

a couple character story quotes:

-"His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins. The only way he could be of service to mortals was in combat." -"Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory. No grudge can last a thousand years; nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time. Xiao has spent many long years alone. But his battles have never been in vain." -"where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield." -"since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage." -"The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end." -"Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself."

i feel like at some point this very nearly did consume his whole personality, almost turning him into nothing more than a being of slaughter under Morax's control, devoid of any "humanity" at all, consumed and corrupted by his karmic debt like his fellow yakshas before him. - until he experienced a moment of clarity- a song in the wind, the peaceful melody of a dihua flute. - and pulled back from the border of something he wouldnt have been able to return from, there a was a shift in his mind- a concept grown unfamiliar enough with time that it took him a great time to identify what it was; a curiosity. Something that there was no place for on the battlefield, something that by all means should have been completely useless to Xiao, and yet he held onto that curiosity, slowly regaining over time, a sense of who he was and who he could choose to be with each song that the wind chose to carry towards him every once in a blue moon.

and eventually that curiousity turned to longing. Longing "for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers"

...... uh- heh- if you couldn’t tell already i have a tendency to make my characterizations/analyses of characters more serious that i probably should. 

to summarize: Xiao is constantly toeing the line between his ingrained nature and his humanity- almost as though still trying to decide how much of that humanity he deserves to have, how much he is allowed to have, and how much is safe to have.

^looking back after writing this, i think the best way to explain it is that this is the view that i keep in mind/the lense that i tend to most enjoy looking through and refering back to while examining and/or analyzing his character, actions, story, lines, and overall personality.

idk- i kinda got off track but i just think its a really interesting interpretation to think about because it has some really interesting implications ig- it’s not the full extent of how i view him of course, but i kinda got ahead of myself and its long enough as is so ill just elaborate as i go- Lol i actually have in progress playlists for both him and venti and just- vibes- i could ramble about the playlists alone for hours explaining everything... It’s probably a problem- uh- ill keep going now lol.

anyways! stepping off the angst path for a brief break! Brought to you by their lines in the snow: both waiting for it to get thick enough, Venti for the purpose of a snowball fight and Xiao for the purpose of a tasty and nutritious breakfast.

but its actually something of note that Xiao doesnt actually need to eat so anything he does eat is usually out of obligation or enjoyment- so like.... snow.... like i dont blame him, but of all things- an adeptus who refuses to eat basically anything but almond tofu looks at the freezing-cold-floor-water that yeeted itself from above and decided at some point- damn- that seems more edible than basically ever single actually edible thing ever.... im gonna eat it- like- im glad if eating snow makes him happy but- at the same time...

He probably convinces Venti to eat snow too though and Venti wouldnt even resist I mean he’s wind and has probably consumed worse things in his time so- 2 anemo cryptids with glowing tattoos sitting in Dragonspine monching snow in the dead of night is an amusing thought to me.

- kay, now back to more serious-toned thoughts

One of the things about the ship that i really like is the different contradicting parallels between them:

A lot of how i view Xiao’s character is someone formed largely by the things he cant control and who was forced to accept that accepted that and learned to thrive in it as much as he can.  Venti on the other hand is surrounded by things he cant control and is ever adapting to control as much as he can while embracing whatever he cant as being part of the unpredictability of the world, seeing beauty in it. 

both of them have lost people and do what they do to honor their memory: Xiao continues to do what the Yakshas once did And Venti chooses to do what his friend couldn’t

Xiao’s power coming from himself  and Venti’s from others And both seem to appear to use their power for their own gain while truly helping others behind the scenes

both have killed a lot of people during the archon war Xiao views it as another necessary event out of his control and Venti would likely view it as a tragedy he chose to enact himself

and this is where we meet out balance

Xiao- contrary to how i think a lot of people view him as thinking of himself as a monster- seems canonically to have accepted this as part of his duty, as long as those he killed are not mortals. I dont think he enjoys it no- but someone has to do it and he’s just accepted that its a part of his duty Venti on the other hand-

See the beauty of the ship- as someone with an angst-centric mind- is this- these are two of the most traumatized mfers in the game 

Xiao is by far the one who needs the most help and who can serve to benefit most from the ship- but he is nowhere near self aware enough to recognize that there’s anything wrong or unhealthy about his mindset in the slightest-

whereas you have the contrast with Venti who sorted through most of his trauma with the nameless bard alone during the archon war and while the result appears more healthy- is still really not- but he’s not self aware of that either because i mean- who’s going to tell him? nobody even knows. 

however- venti is aware enough to notice flaws in Xiao’s mindset and “Venti” enough to want to help them through it-

Xiao- while not aware enough to recognize the flaws in Venti’s mindset, can recognize where it contrasts with his own, and is blunt enough to point it out- and then it’s out there to be mulled over- 

they’re so similar and yet so different and a feel just conversing between the two of them, being in each others precense, just being exposed to two mindsets that are so very different could do both of them a whole lot of good.

GEEE THAT BIT OF RAMBLING HAD LITTLE TO NO DIRECTION AT ALL- LET ME-- LET ME MAKE THIS START MAKING SENSE- WITH... DYNAMICS OR SOMETHING

I don’t think Xiao needs to sleep really- and i dont think that sleeping would do anything except make him uneasy at first- he’d probably just get nightmares after all he’s been through- but with Venti he would soon learn that it doesn’t have to be that way, lulled into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in... as long as he can remember.

anywho back to not making sense cuz im fickle and i think most questions about ships are best displayed through character interactions so like- a possible exchange thats cliche but cliches exist for a reason

Xiao: Why do you try so hard to help me, it isn’t easy. I know that much Venti, with the most adoring expression: Because you’re worth it, obviously Xiao: But surely there are others more deserving of- Venti: No Xiao, everyone is just as deserving as the next person, you included Xiao: Then why me above others? Venti: ehe, cuz ur my warrior of course [O//////O oh shit, hes right] Xiao: My contract is with Morax alone [gay panic but in broody yaksha]

it’s kinda difficult cuz neither of them really address their feelings.  I mean Venti does but he does it very indirectly and its rare that he ever does it with like- genuine directness- even spilling his backstory was in the form of a song- and told in the third person- so a lot of their interactions would often have some deeper meaning, especially with Venti being the bard he is. 

I come up with a lot of- errant thoughts about Xiaoven- but this is making me realize that a true analysis of their ship is rather difficult because it just encompasses so many dynamics so its hard to settle on just one and not go rambling about who knows what bouncing from one end of the ship to the other-  Because you truly can and thats the beauty of it

within one moment you can be having a heartfelt conversation about the archon war the impact of lost friends and times past, and the next moment Venti is trying to forcefeed Xiao an apple while Xiao screams about disrespecting the adepti and its just- so lovely

so while they have picnics with nothing but apples, dandelion wine, and almond tofu they can sit down and talk about the dreams Xiao once devoured, and the dandelion wine and apple cider that the first Ragnvindir invented from the plants that never could have grown in Old Mond. The foods that tasted of familiarity, or of the grilled ticker fish Pervases always used to eat, foods that tasted of friends and frankly family that had since passed, glaze lilies and cecilias and qingxin flowers scattered in the surroundings and woven into Xiao’s neat braids and Venti’s now messy ones, rebraided by the steady and inexperienced hands of one unused to gentle action. 

and then of course Venti steals Xiao’s tofu once the mood becomes too grim and replaces it with a bottle of wine that Xiao refers to as “vile poison,” a remark that fatally wounds Venti as he collapses on the floor, proclaiming how he can only be healed by a Yaksha’s kiss. Xiao ignores this of course and simply takes back his tofu with a slight smile on his face, but as Venti persists he soundlessly places a kiss on his own palm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back up from where he was dramatically sprawled on the floor, grumbling about how such action was “unbecoming of an archon.” A sign of affection only Xiao would ever know about. But Venti is literally wind and I hc his senses work differently anyways so he definitely knows- plus Xiao’s face is red as the blood of his enemies and the way he is pointedly not looking at Venti at all really speaks volumes anyways. 

 -Venti playing epic battle music whenever Xiao goes into fights in what looks like a ridiculously extra performance to anyone else but is actually doing wonders to keep Xiao’s karma at bay

-Venti preaches the practice of “kissing wounds better” and Xiao is unfamiliar with this medical treatment but views it as unnecessary regardless because adepti have accelerated healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to stop him though. 

-Messages whispered on the wind

-Venti’s 1000 year sleep- an accident, not a fun time for the yaksha, and not a fun time for Venti once he woke up. Venti is actually more afraid of restful sleep than Xiao is, hence the sleeping in trees thing, but when Xiao is there, he can sleep restfully with faith that Xiao wont let another millennia slip through his fingertips. 

- Xiao tends to make excuses when doing things that aren’t necessary to his duty, like in his birthday voice line “Have this, it’s a butterfly i made from leaves... Okay. Take it. It’s an adepti amulet -- it staves off evil” because at the current point in his progress it helps him to feel like he’s allowed to do these things. Not wanting to put him off from progress, Venti never comments on his excuse but never fails to whisper a quick reminder of how proud he is of how far Xiao had come.

- Xiao’s karma saddens Venti greatly- not only because of how it effects Xiao but also because its a reminder that as much as Venti tries to honor the memory of those he’s killed, there will always be those who resent him for it, and when he took the option of living away from them, he truly can’t blame them. - And when he gets too wrapped up in thoughts, whether around this topic or similar ones or otherwise, eventually, he’ll hear the sound of a flute on the wind. It’s not divine by any means, but as his own wind connects him to the source, he gets the sentiment all the same. “What impact does one individual’s remaining wrath have on the present. You have done much to help the living in the present” the unspoken idea that Xiao has included himself in that statement, because now, with Venti’s help he’s beginning to learn just how to experience living for himself. 

- Venti’s form and Xiao’s mask are off limit topics though because if either mentions it the other will counter with the opposite and the mood will turn immediately bitter at the idea that both know that what they’re doing is destructive but neither are willing to change

- Venti who has different tells for negative feelings than most people because as much as he likes to pretend it is- this form isnt his, and Xiao who is able to identify those

- many fanfics and headcanons have Venti recognizing when Xiao is uncomfortable and getting him out of those situations. I see that and I love it but i raise you: - Venti taking Xiao to Mondstadt, careful that he doesn’t get to the point that he’s uncomfortable. And nothing goes wrong exactly, but Xiao notices the the way Venti’s cape is blowing in the wind, the way he’s holding his weight, barely on his feet so much as floating on the wind, connected with the ground only for the sake of appearance, all the while he looks just as happy go lucky as ever. And without a word, he grabs his hand and teleports them both out of Mondstadt.  - turns out it was just a slight thing that reminded him of the archon war (cuz i will die on the hill of him having more tragic backstory than just Decarabian), and he of course gives a sincere if not flustered thanks to Xiao, because he’s really not used to people noticing. 

- Venti trying to vent sneakily through fictional stories and Xiao is just like “Didn’t that basically happen to you” and Venti is just like “<_< shit”

- Venti once said affectionally that he wished he had met Xiao sooner and Xiao immediately and seriously shot it down by saying “If you had, I would have been forced to kill you” and both of them now stay up at night wondering who would have won that fight, not sure which result would have hurt more. (because honestly I have no idea who would win in that fight and that terrifies me- I like to think it would have been one of those legends that end with “and the fight persists to this day” or something along those lines)

- “How long have you been together?” “Adepti have no need for-” “1000+ years T^T how dare you deny our love” “O///O our...? ...useless”

- its disney- let me explain- i have this- i have this headcanon inspired by watching too many animatics- - so venti has a human form that isnt his- which he would have had to get used to moving in- and he’s a bard- - uh- anyway- as a third degree black belt in mixed martial arts, i can speak as an authority on this(not really an authority since i havent gone since quarantine but lets pretend). We have a thing referred to as the big three(most things do), and those things are martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. The idea is that they reflect really well off of each other and the best in any one category are good in all three. Timing, balance, form, discipline, technique, hand-eye coordination, grace, ease of motion, they all play a part- anyway-

- Venti taking Xiao’s prowess in martial arts and acrobatics and teaching him how to dance, and as someone who’s extremely skilled in the first two, the third comes easy to him, almost naturally. And it’s delicate and beautiful and lovely and it isn’t hurting anyone. And Venti points all these things out and more and despite how much Xiao insists that he feels ridiculous he truly does enjoy it and it goes a long way towards helping him form more healthy views of himself and his worth.  - Verr Goldett walked in on him once and made a joke about performing at the inn. unfortunately Venti was there and agreed on Xiao’s behalf before he could protest and- and it wasn’t as bad as Xiao thought it would be... he still wouldn’t do it again though without reason, but with good enough reasoning he could probably be convinced. 

- anyways point is he likes dancing to Venti’s songs and i just think that’s really cute - just picture the idea that all the animatics you see actually have the potential to be canon- ugh

- venti tries holding something out of Xiao’s reach since he’s taller and Xiao just fucking teleports 

- both need their space but when they dont, all they have to do is speak the other’s name and they’ll be there.

- and because i just had to.... love languages

- lets start with Xiao- i don’t think he’d view acts of service or quailty time as a love language tbh, and he blunt but really bad with words so affirmation is out, leaving gift giving and physical touch. However, he seems to view most material things as meaningless so- - Xiao who’s love language is in his fleeting touches, something he’s only recently grown comfortable with because of Venti, and now is giving back, which he knows he doesn’t have to do, but that he want’s to, though he’ll still continue to make excuses for each one. “you were shivering” “The inn is high up, you could have fallen..... I said what I said, you’d question an adeptus?”

- and as easy as it is to say words of affirmation for Venti- he does that for everyone- i want to say his is actually acts of service - its the acts of service that let him see just how much Xiao has progressed afterall, from teaching him to dance, to playing another song on the flute, to supplying him with the almond tofu he seems to enjoy so much. Every little thing he does helps Xiao to grow and he couldn’t be happier about that. 

-

- of course most of my headcanons for the ship do take place latter into the relationship because- y’know the less serious unhealthy vibes allow for greater range of thought, but i do still love to think about the serious implications so i kinda hopped back and forth. So sorry about how messy it is btw, i kinda- got carried away- it kinda got some kind of structure near the end tho so- maybe it’s okay. anyway- back to... lol something, we’ll see where thought forests lead. 

#genshin impact #genshin xiao #genshin venti #xiao #venti #xiaoven #genshin analysis #genshin headcanons #xiaoven headcanons #xiaoven analysis #this is a mess i really shouldnt be putting all these tags but oh well #oh wow the grammar and spelling here is truly repulsive #sorry to all my english teachers i have failed you all