#*crawls out of sight like a cryptid*

[kikaichuno]

You guys would not believe the cursed shit I find myself saying about Shino on discord. This is horrible. Why do I come up with these- these... HORRIBLE-

[letsmcfreackingloseit]

Ok, I have been dead for long enough-

Hello everyone! I hope the holidays have been fun and that all of you are looking forward for the new year!

I for one have been fighting for my life with this little animation/animatic for the Cryptid Sightings au. I’m still not quite satisfied with it, but at some point you gotta say “enough is enough” especially when you’re working with windows old MovieMaker as your editing program because you’re an old cheapskate who refuses to buy a proper animation program

But anyway! Naff I really freaking love this au and I can’t wait to see more of it! I thought this classic vine would fit the au, so I hope you like it ;D 

As always; Cryptid Sightings is an au and story written by lovely @naffeclipse which you can read here! Moon’s design is just his normal look and Y/N’s design is a bit of a twist from my side ‘cause I’m quirky like that ;P

Cheers and an early Happy new year to all of you!

[eyelambspider]

𝟎𝟐. 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚 || 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠

Day Two of Kink/Creeptober! Here is a list of my prompts & event terms!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : könig x gn!reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : The two of you were sent in the dead of night to check up on a supposedly vacated enemy facility. Strange reports and sightings of men had worried KorTac, they couldn't afford to have someone occupy the space. Turns out, the scary Colonel hates 'supernatural' stuff. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.4 k 𝐚/𝐧 : shane & ryan duo ifykyk 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : fluff? funny/comedy?, horror, mentions of guns, swearing, reader is sarcastic, cryptid (mothman appearance :)

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

You groaned softly. An exaggerated sound that made the Colonel hit your shoulder with the butt of his gun.

"Keep quiet, there may be enemies," he scolded you quietly, having to glance down at you with those disapproving eyes of his. The two of you had just barely touched the door and you were already complaining.

"This fucking sucks and you know it," you whispered back harshly. The two of you chose a respective side of the metal door to stand against. Lowering your guns only for a moment to finally lower the night vision goggles onto your faces.

König only grumbled again, muttering curses and German under his breath like he liked to do when you pissed him off. A sound that made you huff in response to him.

He acted like you were the irrational one. But the fact was: Every thermal scan of the facility reported nothing. And the old building was monitored day and night since local reports came in of 'shadows in the window'. No one on watch duty reported seeing anyone or anything come in or out of the doors. Any of them.

This was bullshit. It just sounded like a squatter to you, but the Austrian Colonel—who you had been paired with to double check the situation personally—was all protocol.

"Don't," he warned, turning his head towards you and pointing a gloved finger His night vision goggles already peering back at you through the darkness. You didn't even need to say it for him to know what you were thinking.

So you didn't, waving your hands up in sarcastic surrendering gesture, strapping your own goggles to your head with a huff. Waiting for him to take the lead then.

So he did, opening the metal door quietly. An actual wonder for how rusted the hinges were. You had to give it to him at least- König was a good fucking soldier. Just... this whole mission felt like a damned excessive ghost chase. Yes, there could be enemy presence back in the facility... but there was a better chance of seeing a rat scurrying around.

König led the way through the darkness, your eyes on the green light casted from his back. The night vision working perfectly. Watching his back and peering around for any sign of life.

The facility was some sort of old textile factory, or you supposed, was one back in the industrial era.

The roof was beginning to cave in, water dripping over concrete and metal railings, rusting everything in its path. Long ivy's crawling up the walls. Only remnants of dust and the occasional scrap of fabric had been left since KorTac had cleared it out over a year ago. It was a wonder you didn't see some sort of zombie wandering around making little clicking noises.

An amused sound slipped from your lips and König stopped dead in his tracks in front of you. Standing up straight, merely glancing over his shoulder in warning. The green glint of his goggles giving you a look that said 'Keep quiet.'

Yeah, yeah. You waved his concern off. There was a job to do despite protests.

The two of you continued on quietly, stalking through the darkness, sweeping the first floor with little to no problems. Guns held close, strapped to your vests and held tightly. The green ghoulish glow of your visor reflecting everything back to you in an eerie way. But nothing seemed out of place. No activity, not even a sound besides the crystal clear clink of water dripping from somewhere overhead.

König reached a hand up to his right ear, speaking quietly into his ear piece. "First floor clear." His voice, echoed softly into your own comm link.

"Continue to secure the building," a tired voice spoke back from the base. Operators watching the small sweep from the cameras on the left side of both of your helmets. Seeing what you both saw, hearing nothing except the staticky feedback through their screens.

Protocol.

With the first floor cleared, the second one seemed like it would go without a hitch too. There was no sound except the soft huffs of your breathing and the rustling of military uniforms as you both continued down the decrepit hallways. Up the rickety metal stairs, the two of you cringing as it groaned and tapped under the weight. Boots on metal, guns clutched a bit closer now that the two of you were making noise. Just a little bit more alert than a few seconds prior.

It was like the air had suddenly changed. No shift that the operators back at base could see, but König could feel it on his skin. Goosebumps prickling up his pale neck as he finally reached the crest of the staircase.

When he stopped, you waited patiently for the Colonel to move. Through the visor, all you could see was him standing there, clutching his gun and looking acute around as if something was wrong. Nothing you could tell though, no matter how much you tried to follow his eyes.

Left to right, there was only the pitch black hallways filled with faded paperwork and offices. It was so quiet in fact, you could probably hear a pin drop from down the hall.

"Colonel," you whispered almost imperceptibly, waiting for his move.

He seemed to tense as soon as the sound left your mouth, but he stayed firm. Only able to see his back and the hand he lifted up, finally signaling you to keep following him with a curt wave.

You got out of the stairwell, the pair of you moving more cautiously. The air swarming with uncertainty as König stopped at the corner, peaking around just to tense up at what he saw. The sound of his gun clinking in his hands as he squeezed it.

It made you tense too, readying your gun and holding the sight close to your eye.

König didn't say anything, just stood frozen with his back against the wall. His chest rising and falling a bit more obviously than it had been a moment ago.

"Colonel! What is it?" you whispered, almost frustrated. Never in all your years of working with him, had he ever frozen.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you whispered again, a bit more loudly before he grabbed your bicep to stop you. Squeezing so hard it made you grit your teeth.

If he wasn't going to move, then you were.

You shuffled quickly around him, your side brushing his front as he stood there. And despite him still trying to stop you, you peaked around the corner, gun at the ready.

"What the-?"

There were little flecks of fine... dust? floating around the end of the hallway. Glittering and reflecting back into your visor, green and a bit... odd.

You stepped out from around the corner and began walking curiously towards it. Only a step out before König tried to stop you again. "Halt um Gottes Willen!" he whispered, trying to grasp at you before he stopped, as if the corner had an invisible barrier he would not cross.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You whispered back, turning to glance over your shoulder at him.

When he had nothing to say, you sighed and continued on without him.

He tried to call out your name to stop you, watching as your form began to go deeper and deeper towards the swirling flecks.

You lowered your gun curiously as the little cloud of dust enveloped you, swirling around from the disturbance. There, on the wall was a dark smear, as if someone had wiped the finest ash over it. You reached a gloved hand out, only to stop when König scolded you again from down the hall.

"Bist du verdammt dumm? Don't you dare touch that!" he ordered, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him.

"Come over here and stop me," you called back, finding yourself smirking at that. "We have a fucking mission," you reminded him. The two of you quietly shouting in the hall now. "Its protocol to sweep the area. Now get your ass over here!" you waved, trying to coax him out.

He couldn't argue and you both knew it. The building had to be checked, and despite his gut telling him otherwise, he rounded the corner and made his way towards you slowly. So tense he seemed to be moving mechanically.

You took your glove off finally and tucked it into your vest, running your fingers through the inky smear. You gasped quietly, rubbing the fine dust between your fingers. It was the softest thing you'd ever felt. And the strange material flaked off your skin, becoming a part of the little cloud that surrounded you.

What the hell was it? Just dust?

König finally came up next to you, watching over your shoulder with the same bad feeling in his stomach.

That's when the soft sound of scuttling startled the both of you.

Your gun shot up and König nearly jumped out of his skin. The two of your looking up in comical sync just in time to watch a shadowy figure crawl along the ceiling and disappear down the corridor in an instant.

"Was zum Teufel!" König yelped, a cold shudder running through his body like lightning.

You kept your aim forward, gun trained now towards the ceiling. The sight only enticing you to take a step further and investigate whatever the fuck that was.

"Stop! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" König was now visibly shaking, not even clutching his rifle anymore, instead reaching out to stop you. There was no doubt he could just throw you over his shoulder and get the two of you out in less than a minute.

"I'm going to clear the area," you said in confidence, like it was the most obvious answer you'd ever given.

The more you moved towards the darkness, the more König tried to stop you, his hands clamping down on your shoulder to swing you around the other way.

"Stop! I said stop! Halt! You damned lunatic!"

"Colonel!" You hissed, stepping towards him before he even had a chance to grab you. "This is a fucking mission, pull yourself together," you reminded him. Yet, he still looked like a damned deer in the headlights, trembling, and too afraid to move in the darkness. Glancing at you with a nervous uncertainty.

Then, he watched as a smirk slowly began to spread over your lips. The green-glow of the night vision making you look more like the imp he envisioned you to be in the moment.

"Colonel? Are you... scared?"

He didn't like your tone, and his grip tightened into a white knuckle grip on his rifle.

He was fucking terrified.

"Come on," you huffed, relaxing as you led the way down the hall, following after the shadowy form. And fuck if König was going to be left alone with that thing roaming around the building.

With you leading the way, the two of you stalked through the next hall. König's breathing was coming out in short puffs, and although it felt like his legs struggled to bend, he followed anxiously. The small flecks in the air getting denser, more frequent the further you went into the building.

The roof was still leaking, but the tip of your gun traced a particular drop. More viscous and stringy than water, dripping down from the ceiling in a long gossamer strand, forming a bubbly puddle on the floor. It-It looked like spit.

Another deep fluttering sound emanated deep from the last room in the hallway. Something clattering to the ground with a resounding boom. Your gun instinctively pointed towards the noise.

"Gott im Himmel erbarme dich..."

The muttered sounds of German had you quickly glancing over your shoulder. König was dead frozen, his gun rattling in his hands, unable to move further, only shaking his head back and forth as if he couldn't believe it.

"Are you... Are you praying?!" You asked quietly, mind torn between disbelief that the man who dominated in warfare was fucking cowering behind you and the animal that was in the room.

You turned to König, putting a hand on his shoulder, your eyes still pointed cautiously towards the door.

"König, you're almost seven foot tall and have the biggest gun I've ever seen in your hands," you began quietly, trying to smack some soft words to reassurance into his head. "You'll be fine."

Even though he nodded, his legs still had that tremor in them.

This was reality, you told yourself, nothing but a fucking raccoon or stupid flock of pigeons fumbling around in the dark. The boogeyman didn't exist.

You lifted a hand to your ear, pressing the piece to speak quietly, relaying back to base. "Going in, hold."

"Copy Bravo."

König couldn't even protest, the words, nothing but German-English gibberish tumbling out of his mouth. Watching in sheer horror as you continued on, his feet moving on their own accord to stand behind you. To afraid to be left behind, too afraid to leave you behind.

Once you made it to the withering doorframe, König held his breath, feeling like icy had shot through his veins as you rounded the corner sharply.

In an instant of horror, your eyes landed on it, shuffling in the corner of the dark office. Fuzzy like a blot of ink, writing against the breeze that hushed through the broken window and picked up the tattered curtains.

Soft kissy sounds came from it, and the thing wrung its neck to glance at you. Green orbs, as big as your head peered back through the night vision goggles locked onto your eyes. Its massive wings, like sails, fluttered like a military drone. Goosebumps lurched down both of your bodies as it dropped from the ceiling and stood up so tall that it hunched to fit the room.

Before you could see anymore, you turned on your heel and ran, grabbing König's arm to get his ass moving. "FUCK THAT!"

Only screams filled the quiet room back at base, the operators watching in collective confusion as the pair of you ran for your lives in a blur of sheer hysteria.

[the-witchhunter]

DP x DC: Horror

I just want to take Danny, our funky little ghost boy, and I want to use him as a catalyst for horror. I want to turn up the weirdness, that cryptid energy, that eldritch spooky boy stuff, and I want to sic him on DC characters that aren’t exactly ready to handle that

I want to release a feral Phantom in Gotham, hungering, bestial, and on the prowl for those members of the Bats that smell deliciously of death. It’s hard to get a good look at it, the shadows seem to cling to the thing, but the Bats that encounter it remember it’s hungry snapping jaws and too many teeth

I want a building that thieves and gangsters avoid like the plague. It’s cursed they say, anyone who goes in never comes out the same. Whatever is in there, it’s never described the same way twice, the only thing consistent is its glowing green eyes

I want a Danny who knows too much, things he couldn’t possibly know. Tim wants to know HOW he knows. He says all he does is listen, he could show Tim if he really wanted to learn. It’s all fine until Tim starts hearing the whispers.

I want a grief stricken Bruce seeing a boy who looks way too much like Jason, only to lose sight of him moments later. Jason’s funeral was just a week before, Bruce knows his son is in the ground. He’s inclined to think it’s just a coincidence, but then he sees him again, and again. He never manages to catch up to him, and anytime he checks the cameras, there is no boy. Is he going mad?

There’s a boy in the walls of Wayne Manor, Damian is sure of it. He hasn’t seen him, but he’s heard him, crawling and scuttling about  between walls and through old passageways, some of which have been bricked off for years. His family wants to believe him, but no matter how many times they look, they never find anything. 

I want to use Danny as a method to scare and traumatize DC characters. Specifically Batman characters since that’s what I’m most familiar with. I just love making him a freaky dude and I want to write so many things just letting him be a freaky little dude

[dimepdf]

★  𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋, 𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐘, 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋. + 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 & 𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. how your boyfriend would react to you calling him pretty .

─── ☆ notes. first time ever writing anything for csm i've never seen the show tho i'm too afraid that i wont like the voice actor or Angel Devil and will get the ick i need more Angel Devil fics in my life, so i just made my own .

─── ☆ length. 1.9k (16 mins) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, gender neutral reader(doesn't describe readers genital), head cannons, established relationship, sub!angel, wing kink, massages, praise kink, sub!aki, oral sex (m), pet names, cowgirl , whiny men, whimpering, vocal sex, biting, dry humping, grinding | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

AKI HAYAKAWA !

Aki doesn't have many relaxing days dealing with his career path, it was a surprise that he even had time to have a committed relationship knowing that his life was on the line 24/7 dealing with what he had to deal with after every clock-in.

You hadn't blamed him for his inexperience, instead finding it cute that his little tough guy persona would crumble every time it came to exploring the sexual part of your relationship.

He had his rational fears when it came to sex, but the one that would always stick to the back of his head like a bright neon cue sign would be his fear of finishing too quickly.

His fear would only be smothered by your complete ability to not give the poor man a lick of mercy under the sheets, practically milking all that you could get out of him before he would be panting like he won a marathon.

Taking all control from him the minute you stepped into the bedroom it was admirable how easily Aki would melt at your ability to have him at his knees for you.

“Can I give you a blowjob Aki?” The question had sprung out of the blue in a usual bored tone. Lying spread on the floor resting against the carpet playing with one of the loose hems of the cushions on the ground.

You hadn't had to face your boyfriend who stood in the kitchen washing the dishes to know what his flustered expression looked like, knowing already that you had wiped that scowling resting expression right off his face as he cleared his throat. “I mean, if you want to, I wouldn't mind.” the sound of water running from the sink came to a halt, as he sets away the last dish to dry wiping his hands dry and glancing at you.

“Do you wanna move to the bedroom or?”

“No, I'm too lazy.” You sigh, flipping to your stomach and crawling closer just enough to tug him by the belt loop of his pants. “Let me suck it here,” Aki concluded that he would never get used to your boldness, exhaling at the sight of you on your knees fumbling so eagerly with his zipper hands searching out for his dick as you released his length from the waistband of his briefs.

“I swear sometimes you're insane.” Aki chuckles trying to hide the dizziness in his tone as your hand strokes him from the hilt, the dryness of your palm making him grunt as his dick reacts.

“Oh yeah?” You coo, smiling up at him. “Maybe if you weren't so pretty.” Aki shivers at the compliment, his blood running hot by the instant as he whimpers from your touch.

The noise alone deepened your smirk, watching him unfold slowly from your knees. “You think I'm pretty?”

“You're the prettiest boy I've ever seen, Aki.” you hum, dragging your tongue on the underside of his dick wetting him up enough for your hand to stroke him without much of a hassle.

“You're just saying that,” he whines stumbling against the counter, holding the edge on for dear life as you twist and squeeze him.

“Want me to prove it?”

He should have said no, Aki should have just let you spit out any cheesy little pet name that you could manage to knock around in that cryptid little brain of yours and moved on as you sucked the soul out of him through his dick but no he just had to taunt you.

Riling you open was like opening pandora's box he should have known the second he was ready to cum with your tongue wrapped around his dick and hand fondling his balls his knees were about to give out hands sweating as they gripped the countertop only for you to pull away and drag him to the bedroom by the collar of shirt what you were about to do to him.

Lying on the bed with his arm swung over his face, nails digging into the pillows as each time you bounced on his dick with no mercy he would whine out your name like a plea.

Aki was convinced you were a demon. You had to be with the amount of stamina that would course through your veins being fueled but his pathetic moans and whimpers.

He was a mess, having you edge him repeatedly you had recognized what every twitch and fidget meant enough to prolong his orgasm for so long Aki felt like he was melting into the mattress by now.

“Just cum inside me, I know you want to.” You had the nerve to taunt him as if he would ever reject such an offer, kissing small little bruises all across his torso as you rode him getting off purely on him slowly, even more of a mess under you.

Aki was one to always follow commands exactly when they came from you in that tone of voice, letting his body relax as you rode him all the way to his orgasm biting in his arm to keep himself from shouting out as he let go inside of you.

You continued to grind against him, watching your boyfriend as his hips greedily against your muscles twitching, crying out your name, just the sight alone was enough for you to fall in love with him all over again. “You look so pretty right now Aki.”

ANGEL DEVIL !

There was just something so rightfully possessive about having a partner that only you could touch, your thoughts weren't always naive and innocent.

You knew the effect you had over him, the way his eyes would widen how he would fidget under your touch.

If it weren't for the violent and demanding nature of your job you would have had the demon all spread out against your mattress begging your name for hours on end just to see his cute little face all blushed and bothered.

A free day off like this where Aki wasn’t breathing down your neck about training over there was no demon to kill for the sake of a shitty paycheck, you would spend your time bothering Angel with some nature coupley hangout stuff all tucked and snuggled up in your apartment.

He had sat on the edge of the mattress, eyes barely open as he had fallen trance to whatever baking show he had switched onto the Tv, rocking a major bedhead and shirtless to let his wings breathe without much of the hassle.

Wearing a matching pajama bottom set, plaid dark green pants snug against your waist, sitting against the headboard scrolling through your phone when an idea popped into your head.

With a smirk you crawled behind Angel, settling just behind him and resting your chin against his shoulder.

The hybrid hadn't thought much of the gesture, his attention still simply glued to his show instead tilting his head to the side to have you better snuggled against him.

And then your hands started to wander.

Angel knew that he never should have trusted your lingering fingers, the way they start from around his hips dragging up to his ribs.

The warmth of your skin against his enticed an exhale from his lungs. There was just something so relaxing about the brush of your fingers against his skin that made him feel so loved.

But then you get cocky, his shoulders instantly tensing up feeling your hands comb through the outer layer of his feathers, gently massaging the bone structure of his wings.

Sparks shot up his spine with every tingle, his lips pressing tightly together at the brush of your chuckle against his neck knowing exactly what you were doing to him. “Don’t—” you kiss against the sweet spot against his neck, his protest being cut quickly by a shaky breath before ducking away from your lips.

His hand pushed your face away, the other covering his face as it began to glow a new tint of pink, “ah I just wanna make you feel relaxed honey.”

You taunt swiping away his hand instead wrapping the arm around your neck to pull his front face into your chest.

Angel hadn't bothered to wiggle out of the hug instant melting farther into your touch as your hand combed through his feathers watching with a smile as each brush left his wings twitching for more.

“Doesn't it feel good?” paired with the small whines muffled from your chest to the way his fist clenched onto the back of your t-shirt, you had him squirming against your touch.

Angel flinches as your fingers lower to the inner part of his wings, just where they met to connect to his spine. Needing the muscle enticing a pitched noise from his throat you could only assume it felt so good seeing him shudder a moment of silence passing through before you could finally connect the dots.

Leaning back trying to get a glimpse of his face, Angel punches you right in the torso, the hit not carrying much force but enough to knock you on your back. “Did you just–”

“Shut the hell up.” the male hissed glaring at you through his thick lashes, his frown only deepening as you laugh at the sight of his erection tight against his pants. While he sat and pouted you had managed to yank Angel onto your lap straddling your hips as he shoved your hands away from his wings and crossed his arms. “I hate you.”

You laugh even harder seeing his wings flare up, managing to spread almost to their full width if it hadn't been for the shoebox of a bedroom you had.

Nonetheless, the sight of him on top of you was more than enough to ignite the flame festering below.

“What, I can't touch my pretty boyfriend?” You cooed, grinding your lower half into his ass.

Angel’s glaring expression shifted to something softer knowing how easily he would give into pet names you were willing to use your best cards tonight.

The way he looks down at you would've been enough to drive any sane person crazy.

The blown dark pupils peeking through his thick lashes and pouty pink lips silently begging for your kiss the bright halo that glowed just inches away from his head would have been enough to convince you that you had finally died and gone to heaven.

“It feels weird…too sensitive.”

You adjust him a bit more forward, hands resting against his slim hips to give you enough space to grind against him without much placement bother.

His cheeks only became more flushed as you smiled up at him as if you were doing absolutely nothing wrong, “aren't I always gentle baby?”

Your hands move from his hips reaching his wings only for Angel to brush the feathers into a different position instead encase them around you both closer to your reach. His arms uncrossing to lean his weight forward, his hand resting against your torso to help him balance more.

His fingers tremble against your chest as yours brushes through his feathers, his head tilted to the side ignoring making any sense of eye contact like his erection wasn't throbbing against your lower stomach.

Your hips shifting up from the mattress Angel shivers, biting his lip to keep from whimpering out like he was in heat. Your touch was so stimulating as your fingers touched all his sweet spots. “J–just let me put it inside already.”

You smile at his begging, watching his hands free his dick from the waistband of his pants eagerly. “Maybe I should touch your wings more often.”

🔖 empty??

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[cryptids-of-spielzeit]

Spielzeit Bestiary #8: The Sun Dog

Nature. Every tree, plant, and animal. It is all around us, and it is a very big part of the forest town Spielzeit's identity. The townsfolk and the surrounding forest have been in kahoots with one another ever since it split from the now defunct Playtime toy company. And now, their relationship with nature has seemingly grown stronger, due in part to a new creature said to roam the woods. They call it the Sun Dog.

Said to be the most benevolent of Spielzeit's ever growing roster of "cryptids", the Sun Dog is described as being a giant Cocker Spaniel with dark orange fur. It gets its name from what locals describe as a pendant, shaped like the sun, that it wears tightly around its neck.

It is said to be missing the lower half of its body, resulting in it crawling around wherever it goes. Those who have caught a glimpse of the Sun God report it being followed by a group of animals. The animals within said group vary, but the most common group is said to be that of a red fox, a whitetail deer, and an opossum.

Stories and sightings of the Sun Dog portray it as a protector of nature, caring for wounded and abandoned animals and helping any that cross its path. It is said to be incredibly docile, even helpful, towards humans, with one witness, Jeremy Hill, 23, describing as such.

"I was taking a walk through the woods. It was a nice day, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I'm walking, and I notice this tree, looked perfect for climbing. I get to the top of the thing, the view was really nice. Then, I heard something, sounded like, I don't know, giggling? Startled me so much that I fell off the branch, broke one of my legs. I screamed put for help for what felt like forever. Then I heard someone, they sounded like he was in his 50s, he told me not to worry, that'd he'd get me back home. That's when I saw him. We were at level with one another, he had a fox, deer, and possum at his side. Now, I've heard other people talk about this guy like he was the second coming, but actually being in his presence, I don't know, it made me feel safe. He had that look in his eyes, you know? I passed out afterwards, but when I woke up I was in town square. I won't forget that day."

The Sun Dog's contributions have not gone unnoticed. For instance, since his arrival, illegal hunting in the Spielzeit area has dropped tremendously, something that Ranger Angelo Floros has taken note of.

"Now, I'm not sure a giant, orange dog is the reason all of these hunters have went away, but regardless, this is great news. And if you want to thank this 'Sun Dog' for it, be my guest."

Many residents do, in fact, thank the Sun Dog, particularly those with some background of religion. They believe in the Sun Dog's existence so much that they have made it the central figure in their annual Summer Solstice festival. Here, there are Sun Dog themed games, food, and even stage performances about its contributions. Something notable is that during the festival, there is a chance that an animal will show up, requesting food, in which they always recieve it, yet they never immediately eat it. It is said that they bring it to the Sun Dog, who watches in the distance on the Licht hillside, where the sun shines brightest.

Is there a protector of nature living in the forests of Spielzeit? Or has Lady Luck just grazed the town with a great ecosystem? Do you believe?

(A major thank you to @abugcalledtoken for writing a greater part of the Sun Dog's lore!)

[naffeclipse]

Would you like to ramble on about some scenes that you wanted to add to a story and in the end you deleted for one reason or another? This question was sent for it! I'm happy to read the things that happened during your writing process

Okay, now I can get into very early ideas/scenes for Cryptid Sightings that never got to see the light of day until now!

When Y/N found Vanessa, I was aiming for Y/N to be oblivious to the demonic possession and run right for her to hug her before pulling back with a pain in their middle. They realize that Vanessa just stabbed them. This, however, was a very early concept as it didn't work with Y/N being a good cryptid hunter and putting all the clues together and Glitchtrap wanting a fresh vessel.

A possible reveal idea was Y/N catching Eclipse in the act of killing a rule breaker and ripping out the rule breaker's heart, but Y/N was, somehow, able to do this without Eclipse realizing they were there and slipping away. This would have led to Y/N struggling to keep composure when Eclipse came back and stressing about the demonic cryptid in their presence as they bided their time to figure out how to take them down, with a main focus on the boys' growing suspicious over Y/N's anxiety and sudden withdrawal. This was scrapped as it ultimately didn't work with Y/N as a character or the logic of the boys not immediately figuring it out right away, too.

A cannibal cryptid I ended up trading out for Shoh for the episode.

The scene towards the end of Chapter 11 (The Episode Of Glowing Eyes Part 2) originally had the boys' deleting Vanessa's message from Y/N's phone in the name of preventing more stress for their heart (and a general distaste for Vanessa) but I scraped that due to it feeling much too harsh and invasive for the boys.

I wrote a scene from Vanessa's POV that I had fully intended to place at the start of Chapter 17 (The Episode Bedeviling Bodies Part 1) but I decided against putting it in in order to keep up the suspense, however, you can read it down below if you'd like!

The Introduction Scene of Vanessa

Warnings for vomiting, body horror, and possession.

Before They Met

In the empty, expansive parking lot of Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex, Vanessa stares at the neon lit entrance in the pitch dark. She frowns during her scrutiny of the facility. In her lap sits a crossbow, already loaded with a silver, glinting bolt. She clutches her phone in one hand.

There are no stars tonight. There is no one else but her.

The faint lights of her truck’s dashboard illuminates the interior of her vehicle, casting a low glow onto the golden Bonnie plushie tucked into the middle console. Blood colors one floppy ear. She glances at it as her jaw clenches before she taps on her phone, the screen brilliant and washing her in white. 

The last place she had left off was her email app. The simple message threatens her with a weapon that does not scare her.

Cease your current investigation or your employmentment contract will be terminated. —F.E.I.

Fazbear Entertainment Incorporated knows that she knows. She tastes disgust and fury. They send hunters out to kill these things—they’re hiding one in the bowels of one of their children’s play places. 

She saw the signs: missing kids, sightings that led her directly to the bear mascot’s doors, unexplained blood in the few places she could sneak into before bots or human staff caught her and sent her away.

They will not protect this cryptid. Whatever it is, she will eliminate it. She will cut ties with F.E.I. and then warn you—she’ll reach you first. You two don’t need this corrupted company. Hunting’s in your blood, she told you just as much, and you two will continue to kill the monsters.

She finds your name in the messages app, familiar and laced with solace. She types in a careful crawl. She doesn’t know how much F.E.I. monitors their employees' phones but she doesn’t want to alarm you, or make them suspect that she’s going to meet you after this is finished. She won’t let you catch their attention.

She writes that she’s investigating a cryptid sighting. It’s getting bloody. You know how these hunts go. 

She sends it to you. Stuffing her phone away, she opens the truck door, fixes her backpack over her shoulders with a quiet clatter from holy water bottles, and holds her crossbow close. She pulls out the detector with her other hand. Slamming the truck door closed with an elbow, she studies the radar and the quiet beep that echoes.

The creature is inside. It is unaware of its impending demise.

Crossing the shiny black pavement, she hurries like a phantom. Vanessa stands before the entrance. The neon almost hurts her eyes.

She’ll obliterate this child-killing cryptid, and any others that F.E.I. is hiding away.

She breaks the door with a sharp hit from the hilt of her weapon. Glass shatters. She steps over it, boots crunching, and enters the pizzaplex.

*

Vanessa stumbles from the black bletch of smoke, scraping against the broken door of glass, shredding her arm in thin, bloody scratches, before she stumbles onto the pavement. Heat rises. The fire burns in the belly of the pizzaplex.

She collapses onto hands and knees. Her weapons gone, the last of her holy water consumed—she convulses, her back arching before she vomits clear blessed liquid and thick mucus of a dreaded violet sheen. Black ooze drips from her nostrils, fills her eyes with black tears, and drips from her ears.

There is no more protecting her.

My vessel, reluctant follower.

You will serve me well.

She cannot scream.

[poundfooolish]

I've fallen down the stupidest fucking rabbit hole involving Metazoo and I've been possessed by the world's stupidest demon to accumulate a complete set of these useless valueless frankly shitty unplayable cards and just. Preserve them. For posterity.

Like I'd stopped picking them up because the Native set made me. Really uncomfortable and I was only buying them as a consolation prize when Target was out of Pokemon and Digimon and YuGiOh cards but now that the entire corporation is dead I just want to dissect this corpse and absolute stupid cash grab sham of a company

Like I'm convinced this game is the way it is and the cards are what they are because all these cryptids and folklore creatures and various references to 'spooky' things you'd find on any 3spoopy5me wikipedia crawl are the way they are because they already exist in the cultural miasma despite not being copyright in any way. You can cut a lot of red tape and save a lot of money when you don't have to come up with a design wholecloth yourself you can just go 'this is mothman it looks like mothman', and the cancelled SCP cardset only FURTHER CONVINCES me of this. Like. The creators were obviously panning around for open source easy ideas they didn't have to actually think about or pay for and printing money off of gullible card investors. For two and a half years!!!

And a fun thing about me is I cannot resist a scam. I cannot resist a rabbit hole. This guy rugpulled a whole community and now you have a bunch of bagholders awkwardly standing around like 'yeah I really believed in the card, I just liked the card you know, the game was fun.'

Meanwhile the optimal way to play the hello kitty crossover set (which. How did you swing THAT???) involves wearing a giraffe onesie, a crown, a red bow, moth antennae, feathers, a mask, a bunny hood, a birds nest directly on your head, dragon wings, a bell, a kuromi headpiece AND a propeller hat all at once, ideally with a volcano in plain sight. You also have to say aloud with your human mouth "It's okay I forgive you" in order to summon kuromi to the field.

bonkers fucking game I wish it got popular competitively I want to see what depths TCG players would stoop to in order to gain an edge.

[0hboyhowdy]

Prologue

Something small for me to dip my toes into writing :)

A bat family self indulgent insert lol. I've been building up this character in my head since before the pandemic, so this character is near and dear to my heart and I've decided to share as a reader insert for fun. Short for some back story, very little bat fam in this one.

839 words.

(Y/N) was a peculiar child. Nothing immediately alarming, soft eyes and smile. Polite, quiet, raised by their grandparents in a tourist town home to a cryptid legend. An old soul they were called, mature for their age to an off-putting degree. They spoke as if they humbly knew something you didn't know. For as long as they could remember they had a purpose, a nagging feeling in the back of their mind of something they couldn’t quite place.

Age 4, (Y/N) babbled about sounds for days on end. Their earliest memory, watching Papa making lunch in their outdated kitchen while sitting in a high chair and humming a tune only they could hear. The music was soft most days, their head swaying and soothing their mood. They weren’t a fussy baby, but when the music became loud there was nothing they could to do to console them. Distress and anger were volatile emotions in their child, Nan concluded, after picture frames flew off the walls and shelves shook. Her arms pricked and tingled where her bare skin touched (Y/N). Papa took to teaching the piano to soothe their tantrums.

Age 5, Nan brings them out into the woods.

Age 7, (Y/N) became fixated on the weather. Exact amounts of rainfall, clouds in the sky, hours of sun. Before it happened. They often refused to wear light clothes, even on the hottest days they still claimed to feel a chill crawling up their neck. Nan often caught them reaching to rub their neck whenever their weather outbursts occurred.

Age 8, they had exceptional spatial awareness. Nan attempted to catch them off guard numerous times and failed. No matter how quiet, (Y/N) knew. Nan used to get them geared up with her and train in the woods behind their house. Their favorite drill, in which they never lost, involved hunting down their grandmother a half hour after she entered the woods.

Age 9, (Y/N) spoke to themselves often. Their grandparents weren’t surprised by the new development but were wary of other people. On Sunday trips to the flea market, with their yield of corn for sale, they often had to scold (Y/N) for speaking to nothing in front of customers. When pestered once, they told stories of the customers' parents, who had long since passed.

Age 10, (Y/N) was allowed in the forest alone. They came back 8 days later. Pale and bloodied, with a raised red scar across their heart.

Age 12, (Y/N) wakes in a cold sweat months after Papa’s death. Bone-chilling fear coursed through their body as they stumbled out of bed and down the hallway. They knew before Nan, was shown in a dream, but too late to wake up. They found her sitting up in bed, the lamp beside her flickered when they stepped cautiously through the door. Nan spoke calmly, her hardened features now gaunt and dark.

“(Y/N) dear,” Tears silently tread down their face, and she patted the bed beside her “Come sit”. (Y/N) sat by her thigh and took her hand. One note of a piano endlessly rang through the house. “I trust I’ve done the best I could” Nan’s voice was hoarse “I hope my job is complete”. (Y/N) sat staring into her eyes, before being pulled into the longest and only hug they’ve ever received from her. A letter was pressed into their hands. The lamp light flickered out. The room was cold.

The small tourist town of Wester quit receiving sightings of their own urban legend. A stark white face stripped to the bone, large ram horns, razor-sharp talons, and a bipedal beast-like body, that leaves behind corpses of large animals. The Wester Vulture, laid tucked in bed, hair braided and pale-faced. The Wester Vulture sat on a bus with a letter clutched in hand, a suitcase, and a large survival backpack in the seat next to them. Their claw weapons sat at the bottom of the bag

Gotham was child's play compared to the Wester forest. Starving and roaming the streets was nothing compared to really fighting for your life. Homeless shelters were unsafe unless (Y/N) wanted CPS involved. Instead, the Angel of Death traveled the slums at night searching for their father. (Y/N) walked bruised during the day with the ram skull helmet tucked in their bag. They survived for 8 months on their own. Not a very good detective, but greatly intuitive.

The 8 months came to an end, face to face with their dad. A has-been sorcerer versus a vengeful spirit with his ex wife's face and wrath. The fight was long, but the end was quick. Quicker than The Batman, who watched the beast murder in cold blood.

Their claws weren’t fully clean of flesh before Batman engaged. The battle was unlike anything Bruce had experienced in a person, more akin to an animal. Swift and brutal, aiming to kill and forcing him on the defense. Vulture’s brutality was no match for his stronger armor and wealth. Bone helmet was cracked from the mouth, huffing out in frustration. In an instant Bruce was met with the face of a child.

[cryptidsofwakemoor]

Chapter 5 - Silver Fang

Gripped by paranoia, Matchstick hides out in the burrow... At least, until its previous owner returns: another local cryptid known by the townsfolk as the Silver Fang.

~*~

Mystic

…

Aside from the distant whirr of vehicles driving by on the road, nothing reaches him in his hiding place. He’s left alone with the pile of garbage he’d used for warmth, and his fears that kept him cold.

…

The gurgle in his stomach came back.

He ignored it.

…

The next day, it hurt more.

He ignored it.

…

After two days, he couldn’t stand the ache anymore. His throat hurt, too. He felt parched. He needed something to drink. This was something he’d never had to worry about before, in the facility. Whatever they did to him- or gave him- it only eliminated the need for food and water for so long.

Spooky

Regardless of however the fuck his body was supposed to function, it was making one thing urgently clear- this was not it. He was going to fucking die like an animal in this hole in the ground if he didn't do something.

The moment he tried to get up from where he was laying, though, it felt like his limbs were made of lead. His arms reached out and felt around him in vain hope of finding anything edible in here that he hadn't eaten yet, even though he knew what little stores he had were gone within the first day.

He did find some paper trash and tried to eat it out of desperation, though it burnt to ash so quickly and his attempts to swallow it just made his throat feel even more dry than before. This wasn't working, he needed to get out.

With no fuel left to go on other than fear of death, he managed to force himself up onto all fours and clumsily crawled towards the entrance. As he did, he feverishly tried to remember if he'd seen any water close by, but the only one that came to mind was that little pond in the place with the sand tubes...

Mystic

…crnch

crunch crinkle-crnch

That was footsteps. Walking over leaves.

Getting closer.

crunch crunch

thud crnch thd

Oh that was heavy. Whatever it was, was big.

thmp crunch thd crnch

The footsteps pause. Something snuffles at the edge of the hole.

Then- all of his light is promptly blocked out, as a hulking, spiny shape blocks the entrance.

He has no visual reference to know what the hell this is. All he can tell, silhouetted by the sun, is that it’s large, reflecting light off the edges of their shape, and has two yellow eyes peering down into the hole.

Oh- and the big claws they’re using to brace themselves at the edge of the burrow. Can’t forget those.

The yellow eyes widen at the sight of him in the pit, surrounded by… trash. The head- which has two frilled-looking ears on the sides of the pointed head- tilts slightly to one side. A rumbled noise emits from its throat, staring down at him.

Spooky

Cast into complete darkness save for the weak glow of his eyes and mouth, he shakily backs away from the tunnel, terror gripping his heart. He had no idea what the hell that thing was, he had no way to even describe what he was looking at beyond huge and pointy, and that was all he could gather from the initial silhouette.

The worst part was, it filled up the whole tunnel. There was no getting around it. He was trapped. Like... Some kind of small thing in a trap. He'd been hunted before, but confronted with this huge creature that snuffled at him, he felt distinctly like prey. Was he gonna get eaten?!

Out of the sheer stress of the situation he was in, he could feel his body trying to ignite. 'Trying' being the key word, because he was running on empty at this point and any strength his powers had before were completely shot in his current weakened state. The occasional lick of flame would crawl up his body, flutter into the air and promptly die, but for the most part he just huddled against the back wall, shaking and sparking.

Mystic

The hulking thing tilts its head the other direction, blinking once as it regards him. Another rumbling sound comes from its chest.

…it leans forward slowly, taking a cautious step into the hole. The giant claws on the forelimb sink into the soft dirt.

Another step. It’s so big that each step crosses nearly four feet of distance. The spines- which appear to be some sort of silver-colored plates, once the sunlight is no longer directly shining on them- scrape faintly against the ceiling of the den. Bits of earth shower down the spines with the sound of a chain link fence, landing on the floor of the burrow with a drizzle of sand. A long tail of similar plates drags behind it, curling slightly at the end as they get closer.

The thing pauses as embers and sparks flicker at his skin. It blinks some more, looking at him curiously. It leans in, sniffing.

Then it recoils back, muzzle scrunching up in- disgust? That was a very palpable expression of disgust on that inhuman face. They stick their tongue out at him, huffing a snort out of their shiny black nose. It shakes its head. Another rumble, and it- backs up? A heavy breath, in and out.

Wait- was that a sigh? Did this thing just fucking sigh at him?

It turns around, leaving him to face a veritable wall of pinecone scales, and starts trundling back out of the hole.

Spooky

He curled up in as little of a ball as he possibly could the closer it got to him, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt its nose get close enough to sniff him.

However, instead of the sensation of teeth sinking into his flesh, the snout suddenly withdrew. He peeked up through his fingers as it reacted with disgust. There was little space with the creature in there with him, so he continued to hug close to the dirt wall as the creature turned around and another veritable wall of heavy armored plates moved past him with about a foot to spare. Soon the den emptied out as it moved back up the tunnel and out.

...What just happened?

Fuck it, he didn't care. He was so relieved that he fell back to the ground and glowing tears spilled from his eyes despite being in limited supply at this point. He needed a moment.

Eventually he regathered enough strength to climb back out of the den. He couldn't tell what time it was for the life of him. The sky was partially dark but whether it was dawn or dusk he had no fucking clue. Either way the light, as limited as it was, hurt his eyes after he'd been underground for days, and he was forced to squint.

His body still felt clunky and hard to move, but he had to get to that fucking water, so he forced his protesting limbs to move. It felt like he almost had to walk on all fours half the time to avoid falling over, but whatever worked. At this point he felt like if he fell over, that would be it for him. There were a few points where it felt like he couldn't go on, and he might've slumped to the earth and eaten some grass off the ground- it was kind of a blur honestly- but somehow by some miracle that familiar building came into sight, and that tree, and those food tubes.

He plunked down next to the pond, and had a very strange moment in which, despite being deathly afraid to get his face near the water before, thirst seemed to take over and the next thing he knew he was leaning down with his hands gripping the sides of the pond and his face practically half submerged, greedily gulping down water like... Well, his life DID depend on it.

Mystic

The water was nectar from heaven. It soothed his throat, which had cracked and ached from the ashy paper dust. Not even the sweet sticky water from the weird hanging tubes had tasted this good, or eased the pain of thirst quite this well. Even the cold temperature didn’t deter him- if anything, it felt even better! Steam puffed out of his mouth every time he had to stop to take a breath.

Nothing attacked, assaulted, or ambushed him while he drank his fill. The pond was empty, with no surprise fish people waiting for him. He could drink in peace.

By the time he’s finished, the pond water level is noticeably lower, about an inch or two. Steam is curling up into the air around him from wherever water touched his heated skin in the fervor to drink.

…his limbs feel sore. Sitting down by the water’s edge felt so nice, even though he was very exposed right now. The desperation to sate his thirst overrode self-preservation for the time being.

…hm?

He smelled something. Something- good.

Even though his stomach was feeling a bit waterlogged, it cramped in protest. He was still hungry, and whatever that smell was, it was making him hungrier.

The smell wafted from something sitting on the porch of the house. A flat white disc, with some kind of- something he didn’t recognize. He didn’t recognize a lot of things.

Spooky

He moved closer to inspect the food. It looked like a piece of meat of some kind, with little speckles of something on top of it... There were some sliced-up lumps of something else that were kind of light brown and yellow-ish, and something that looked like tiny green trees. There were some little metal instruments placed down by the white disc, but he ignored them and picked up one of the tiny trees between his thumb and pointer finger and looked at it curiously.

He could recognize this as human food easily enough- it smelled too good to not be. He wasn't sure what it was, but food was food, and he dug right in.

He was so hungry that the food disappeared before he had much of a chance to really taste it, but like the cooked patties he'd managed to snag before, what he could taste of it was so good compared to what he'd been scavenging that it nearly made his eyes roll up in his head. Sure, he'd been taking food from the town, but they seemed able to prepare the food in a way that it was even better somehow... The meat was especially good, having an interesting flavor along with it that he guessed was the stuff sprinkled on it?

Either way, the food was gone quickly and he picked up the white disc, licking it clean.

Mystic

Once the food has all vanished into the furnace that was his gullet, he finally has the opportunity to sit and think without being plagued by demanding organs and various pains.

If that was human food, why was it left out? Surely not to feed any of the animals about. He'd glimpsed people in this place chase off fluffier grey animals with ringed tails from their trash cans or their own food discs. Could those be the 'raccoons' everybody complained about?

This food was left out with the intention to feed a person. But- he'd never seen anybody besides the weird fish-person go into or out of that house. And the only person who went anywhere near the property was-

-him.

...was the food meant for him? And if it was, why?

Was it- bait?

Spooky

He put the disc back down, unease settling in. They had seen him the last time, so they knew he'd been getting food here. But at the same time, it didn't make sense to him why they would leave more food out after knowing he was taking it. The only other possibility he could think of was that it was that person's food and they just forgot it outside... But who would actually do that?

It felt like maybe this was some kind of attempt to trick him, but to what end he had no clue. It wasn't like any traps had sprung and captured him, and there was plenty opportunity for that to happen.

...

Ah shit, that's right, he was in the open! His eyes turned upwards and scanned the sky for any sign of camera drones, but there weren't any. Just open sky, and the high branches of trees. Still, not wanting to take any chances, he retreated back towards the forest.

He could try to figure this out once he was somewhere safer.

~*~

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[slimethewalkingdisaster]

Description: The creature in question looks and dresses like a cave man/woman (or Neanderthal) of varying skin tones except for their glowing pink eyes, brightly colored hair, colored spots, and dripping/melting in appearance skin.

They're usually seen only at night and, upon noticing they've been spotted, they flee—either by crawling up the wall or by melting into a drain. Leaving no evidence that they were even there save for whatever graffiti they've left behind.

They communicate mostly through grunts and other sounds and are known to be skittish around uninjured humans but, interestingly enough if they spot an injured human or animal they tend to do their best to give assistance. Especially if the person or animal in question is a youngling or an elderly.

They are passive creatures who have sightings dating back to ancient times all over the world and have different names in different places. They have also been documented as friends of the 'Never-weres.'

They paint with the hair on their hands and through the paint they seem to breath/spit out.

[sonicasura]

Watched Transformers Rise of the Beasts yesterday so why not have two Transformers flavored Trollhunters scenarios?

Troll or More?

Jim is a Cybertronian that accidentally ends up on Earth during the Arthurian Period when he was just a Sparkling. The misplaced child scans a peculiar depiction of a troll to serve as his beast mode. Jim thinks he's one since they're the only species close to him in retrospect. I.e made of inorganic material such as stone even though he's metal.

Depiction is Beast Jim in design since it honestly feels perfect for this scenario albeit with some minor changes like his hair being Troll Jim's in a more mullet like mane. His armor plating resembles a kilt, arm brace like gauntlets that conceal blades on the side, his spikes are actually pieces to collapsible saber and bow. The drawing in this scenario is actually a jab at King Arthur for his inhuman cruelty towards magic and magical folk.

Jim's true form resembles canon Troll Jim even to his plates mimicking the Eclipse armor albeit dark blue in color instead of black. He usually stays in beast form since it's better to navigate smaller places than constantly crouching or crawling in normal form.

There are shared traits between both. Jim's horns have hollow tips that shoot out smoke to even fire depending on his temper or if he uses a lot of energy. His later vehicle form added tires to the elbows and thighs, car doors for bladed shoulder pad, while the chest plate now has blacked out windows that faintly show the glow of Jim's spark.

Jim doesn't really fit in with the locals as many saw him to be unnatural. Even trolls who either fled or at worst chased the poor boy away with extreme violence. There is one, well, two people who weren't afraid: Douxie and Archie.

Both eventually bump into each other. An encounter that leads to a powerful brotherly bond between the three. One day, they find out Jim can not only survive on a mysterious energy(Energon) but he can live off of ambient magic in the air. Things are good until Merlin discovers the Cybertronian and chases him away much to the other two's horror upon finding out later.

Jim sneaks onto a boat that leads to what would be North America. From there, he became a roaming vagabond who travels across the two continents. Jim inspired plenty of legends or cryptid sightings by accident but his most well-known being the "Night Hauler".

A car carrier type truck that appears at night and has the visage of a monster in the driver seat. Some reports said a large 'beast' rides on the back waiting to hitch a unlucky car for a trip to hell. This was Jim being a little shit as someone tried to break into him once. He just copied a normal one car tow truck though his Beast Alt gave this form some monstrous flairs.

Jim ends up in Arcadia 10 years before the events of Trollhunters. He hides out at a car business and is accidentally purchased by one Barbara Lake. She, of course, discovers her new truck actually being a teenage Cybertronian when Jim decides to give the woman the ride of her life.

The common (unspoken) tradition throughout the series where the unlucky human gets taken on an extreme ride by their soon to be protector. Barbara's was no exception as Jim took her EVERYWHERE. Across the roads, over bridges and even down a rocky cliff like a literal highway to hell.

He expected to scare Barbara off with this but he gets scolded instead. Even when Jim goes into Beast mode in an attempt to intimidate her, she just gives him the mom look. Curiosity overriding common sense leads to the young Cybertronian to become Barbara's protector.

Jim won't be the Trollhunter despite how funny that will be. It's Strickler as our robot boy is completely unaware about trolls being in Arcadia. The soon to be Avocado Dad is trying to figure out what to do during a date and accidentally discovers his girlfriend's car is alive. Jim still befriends Toby and gets adopted by everyone's favorite doctor.

What is different is that he reunites with Douxie who also gets brought into the Lake Family alongside Archie. Jim still a professional chef as the house was remodeled to have taller ceilings then just be reinforced alongside the stairs. Plus he's very stubborn even when he kept shattering eggs at the beginning. The boy is gonna take care of his human mother and new siblings, damnit!

Will any other Cybertronians show up? Yes but probably after Trollhunters or during S3. No clashes between Autobots and Decepticons until later however Jim does meet an Autobot that brings a startlingly revelation.

Overall one hell of a ride from start to finish. What continuity I will use is unknown though. 🤔

My Motorcycle Is A Robot

When Jim is six years old, a friend of his mom drops off a strange black and gold motorcycle as a gift. At first Barbara didn't want it until she figures it could be Jim's when he gets his driver's license. (In California, the lowest driving age is sixteen with the right requirements.)

On one fateful night, Jim and his best friend find out the motorcycle is actually a Autobot by the name of Prowl. (Yes! It's Prowl from Transformer Animated! He ended up in the Trollhuntersverse after the series finale for the show.)

The three become friends with the ninja becoming the protector for both families. Barbara doesn't find out about Prowl until she is chosen to be the next Trollhunter. Jim had accidentally eavesdropped on her first encounter with Blinky and AAARRRGGHH.

Thus he becomes a vigilante to help his mom albeit with Toby immediately following alongside Prowl. Although the cat is out of the bag when Nomura comes over to assassinate Jim. (Both boys sneak into the museum like in canon but to retrieve Prowl's keepsake than take out goblins.)

The Cybertronian and Draal bump into each other as they go to repel the Changeling assassin. Can I just say it was completely awkward between everyone once they could discuss the massive revelation in safety? At least the three are now part of the team.

Draal gets adopted alongside Prowl by Barbara since the two are still considered 'young' despite the vast difference in age. Jim ends up becoming half troll as he dives after his mother in the 'House Divided' episode. Merlin had exploited her love towards her three sons so she follows through with it.

(Prowl shows up instead of Draal so he avoids the brainwashing and canon death. The Cybertronian knows what his troll brother's mindset would lead to disaster without any interference. Angor Rot falls under Gunmar's command early to make up for the change.)

Like with Troll or More, Autobots alongside Decepticons will show up. When it happens is most likely during the Eternal Night with just an Autobot. I don't know which continuity though as much as I love a reunion for Prowl and his old companions, a fresh start would be better.

It's either the movieverse set up by Bumblebee, Transformers Cybertron, Prime albeit with certain parts cut off or something else since I haven't watched any new Transformers yet.

That's it for now! Until next time folks, Autobots roll out and I'll see you back in Arcadia! Here's Prowl, w/o his keepsake Yokotron's Helmet, from Transformers Animated for anyone who hasn't seen the show!

[hollowsart]

Okok... So, we love very much the cute little things with Acedia and Quentin ... But something a bit angst with the two of them~? Can we have it? Pwease~ (/◕ヮ◕)/

Angst? Hm.. hurt/comfort..? úwù

[warning for like.. mention of spiders and snakes & uhh mind stuff?? sorry]

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They had only interacted thrice before. This time.. he had a plan for how to deal with her, to keep her claws out of his business..

He did not plan for this, however.

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The smoke swirled with glowing, shifting hues as she ran through it to find him. The smog of fear inducing gas and hologram projections dancing around them both. Her senses on high alert, heart racing and breathing picking up. She could not see a thing through the false imagery that filled her vision. Spiders and scorpions and snakes of enormous size scattered all around, below her feet and above her head.

She darted around avoiding the threats that did not really exist, chasing after phantom sights of the master of illusion. Around one corner she came to a halt, finding herself peering down a dizzying chasm of immeasurable depths. Her heart sank, shuffling back with now a leaden foot. All in an instant her balance was thrown off. Her panic and fear reaching its peak.

Mysterio had followed her through the corporate warehouse. Lurking around the supply boxes he was paid to retrieve. He could see the world for what it truly was. All the dangers Acedia saw were never there in the first place. The air he breathed was filtered through his helmet, giving him quite the advantage.

“How pathetic,” he mocked, voice swirling within the smog, reverberating around her, “and here I thought you would prove to be more of a challenge to me.” there was a chuckle as his voice seemed to change location, “Look at you.. almost pitiful.”

Sniffling and shuffling around, trying her best to avoid the arachnids scuttling at her feet. Her breathing quickened and only made things worse. Inhaling more and more of the chemicals in the air. Her vision warping, fighting back tears as the visuals of what she saw only grew more intense.

“Round and round, up and down, down, down.” came his voice again, almost in a singsong-y tone, “The hero goes up, and the hero must come down.. as all creatures must do.” Octave dropping low.

The sound finally registered as she whipped her head around to pinpoint its direction, but to no avail as her breath sudden hitched. A shriek caught in her throat as she looked down to see arachnids had finally caught up and had begun to climb and crawl up her legs. It felt as though they had already somehow gotten inside her clothes, the sensation itching along her arms and back.

She let out a shrill sob of fear as she began to instinctively kick away at nothing, scratching up her legs with her feet to knock away what was never there to begin with. Just as quickly as she had started she stopped, feeling something fall from above, a snake dropping to her shoulders and soon coiling around her neck.

She gripped at nothing, nothing. There wasn’t anything there around her neck. Yet.. she could not breathe. Panicking far too much to register the reality as she frantically clawed at her throat and screamed. A harrowing, genuine sound, enough to cause the master of mischief to cease his act for but only a moment.

Mysterio stood not too far away and watched with a sick amusement as the little hero jerked and twirled around in the middle of a warehouse aisle, fighting off a nonexistent threat. To think he could do this with only some hallucinogens and fear gas. His enjoyment, however, faltered at the sound she made, being replaced briefly with guilt. He shook his head and thought nothing of it as he began to make his presence known, approaching the cryptid crawler from behind.

“Have you had enough, yet, my dear?” his voice came once more, waving his cape a bit to fan the smoke away as he reached her, “Surely you could hold out a little long--” but his words were cut off as she snapped her gaze toward him in an instant. The snake now gone as she collided into him.  Her senses rang out all around, but not on him. Not him..

He was safe. She wanted nothing more than to get away. She may have been a hero, but she wanted to be saved. He may have been the one to have caused all this, but she did not care, she just wanted someone, anyone, to come to her. She clung so desperately, face buried into his chest as she sobbed. Arms wrapped so firm and hands clutching fearfully to the back of his costume. Her legs nearly tangled themselves within his, causing him to almost lose balance.

Mysterio stood frozen in shock, baffled by this reaction. The guilt from before twisting and rearing its head back up into his chest. Looking down through his crystal dome at the wall crawler, he could not see her face from how closely she was pressed to him.

Slowly, awkwardly, cautiously he lowered his arms down to her shoulders, a hand pressing gently to her head. He didn't quite know what he was doing, but he felt he was done with this whole thing for now. It was no longer fun.

"..I think... This has gone on long enough." he spoke up finally, no dramatics and no mockery nor playful ill intent in his tone, he dropped the act. It seemed she really was hurt, but not physically. Never does he truly wish to hurt anyone, he can't help himself now but to feel sorry, remorse fr putting her through such an experience.

Ensnaring them both with his cape as he returned the embrace with a softer one of his own, he attempted to move, hobbling with her latched onto him as he slowly navigated out of the warehouse. Some fresher air ought to do her some good, he thought, get her out of the smoke filled building.

The cool evening breeze rushed to greet them as they made it outside. Colorful fumes swirling and dissipating in the open air before being slammed back inside by the closing of the door. They walked a little further away from their exit before finally stopping. There was an uneasy uncertainty bubbling in his heart and mind as he looked back toward the door, then down at the woman in his arms. Her sobbing had settled, taking in the scent of him helping to ground her mind, her grip loosened just a touch. The desperation in her hold now replaced by a trembling wanting to not let go.. though it would be inevitable.

“Hey..” he rubbed his hand soft and unsure against her back, voice gentle and quiet, “It’s okay. We.. You’re out now. There’s no more monsters, no more creatures. Take a deep breath.” patting his hand now on her shoulder as he leaned back, an attempt to pry himself away gently.

There was a moment of silence, filled only by the sounds of the city and her muffled sniffing and haggard breathing. Slowly, she let him go and shuffled away, mumbling a broken ‘I’m sorry..’ as she turned away to lift up her mask just a bit to breathe a little better. Coughing and sniffing and breathing deep to try and clear her system further before she dared to open her eyes.

For a moment Mysterio caught a glance at her face, it wasn't enough that anyone could recognize, but it was something that intrigued him.. He looked away, however, letting her continue and embrace the evening instead before he cleared his throat. A coldness coming over him from where she once was.

He walked up to her, not allowing her any time to lower her mask back as he carefully brought a hand up to lightly turn her attention back up to him. It was a temporary action, but nonetheless made her jolt. The lenses of her mask opening once more, gazing where she figured his true eyes were. The lenses blinked once.. twice before he finally spoke up.

"..I am.. truly sorry. For whatever you had seen," his prior dramatic voice returning but toned down, his confidence and pride were shot, "It was not my intention to harm in any way. This act is done, I can go on no longer with this," he went quiet, "..not after that.." picking up in volume with a clearing of his throat once more, "I.. I shall take my leave."

He dropped his hand and turned away, lights from somewhere above catching just right upon his helmet, she should see a silhouette of his head inside for a fleeting moment. She called out, tugging her mask back down and stepping after him before he could vanish into the smoke seeping out from inside.

A tug at his wrist surprised him, looking back around to see Acedia with her sleeve opened for her real hand to come through, the claw dangling from the sleeve. Palm slipping and brushing a moment against the back of his own before her hand dropped, coming back up to grip at the cloth of the other claw. A nervous hold as the material scrunched up between her fidgety fingers.

"..Uhm.. Th...Thank you." her voice came out a quiet croak, clearing her throat before finishing, “..Never again.. please.” The lenses of her mask appeared softer, the lower portion coming up as though she were giving him a little smile, though there was no mouth on the mask. He felt something then, though he couldn’t yet understand what.

He stood a little straighter, taking two steps back then taking a bow, clutching his cape and bringing it up toward his chest as he did, “Of course..! ..em, Rest well, my dear, and adieu!”

And with that he swiped the cape around further, tossing some smoke bombs behind him with his other hand, and made his departure. Leaving quickly in one last colorful display, the smoke sparkling with glitter in the late night city lights.

[cranberrybogmummy]

How Crumpy Mcdumpy the III met his best friend the wizard Kevin McNamarra

How Crumpy Mcdumpy the III met his best friend the wizard Kevin McNamarra

The year was 1999 and in Lake Remorse two generations of Crumpy McDumpies had passed on. The first in frustration and the second fell in battle with monsters. However Crumpy McDumpy the 2nd had found himself a wife despite his name, a good woman by the name of Jennifer. She swore while she carried that she would not give her child such a name, however when she held her infant son for the first time and looked at him with all the love in her heart, she knew he was a Crumpy McDumpy.  Lake Remorse was a town where numerous strange, eldritch and paranormal things happened. It was not unusual to see cryptid at the local coffee shop getting an espresso and rains of fish were a regular thing in the forecast. So when Jenn’s husband died fighting monsters, she was able to find a support group for those who had lost their spouses to various supernatural incidents. That’s where she met Lorna McNamarra, a witch who had lost her own husband due to the machinations of a false friend, Nisha (also a witch) and the Lich US Sen Beauregard Garvin (R- Tenn).*

Jenn and Lorna were both about the same age and both had boys who were both about five. One spring afternoon they met in Lakeside park, with their two sons to introduce them. The moms sat on a park bench chatting, while the boys who hadn’t been formally introduced stood together.

Kevin was a brown haired grubby-chubby boy and Crumpy was a brown haired grubby boy. Crumpy looked at his feet and frowned. Kevin was humming to himself. He held out a sticky hand:

“I’m Kevin, we’re gonna be friends, let’s play trucks.”

Kevin produced four small toy trucks from his pocket.

“‘kay,” Crumpy said. He didn’t know Kevin but would like a friend and liked playing with trucks.

He shook Kevin’s hand and they went to the nearby sandbox (within sight of their moms) to play with the trucks. Kevin was good at playing trucks, he made good truck noises. He had the red one and the yellow one. He let Crumpy play with the green one and the yellow one.

“You magic too?” Kevin asked. “Me and Mom are magic, Dad found out, he left cuz Auntie Nisha hid a soul egg at our house that was Senator Garvin’s and he hurt Dad until Mommy stopped it. Then Dad left.”

“I’m not magic. Grampy says our line was cursed by a God,” Crumpy said. “And Dad died fighting big mean butter monsters, cuz a magic baker owed the god an order of eclairs, if we do enough things for the god we’ll be able to not be cursed.”

“Oh,” Kevin said. “That’s sad.”

“Yeah,” Crumpy said.

“Was it the Cuppin’ Cakes bakery?” asked Kevin.

“Yep, Mom says the baker went crazy cuz of too much magic and not enough money,” Crumpy said and moved his truck.

“What’s the curse?” Kevin asked.

“It’s our name, every firs’ born son gets the same name: Crumpy McDumpy and you can’t change it.” Crumpy sighed.

That’s when Luke Fredricks, a known bully, heard the name and started laughing.

“That’s a stupid name,” He chuckled. “And you’re dumb, and your dad is dumb and dead.”

He was seven, skinny, pointy, and mean.

“You can’t say that, Crumpy is my friend!” Kevin exclaimed.

“I can say what I want to you babies, what ya gonna do?” Luke challenged.

Crumpy ran up and tried to kick Luke, but Luke was bigger and slippery and Crumpy fell down crying. He threw sand at Crumpy and punched him.

Kevin tried to get involved but Luke knocked him over.

“Mom says I’m not allowed to set people on fire anymore,” Kevin growled. “So I’m not gonna.”

“My Dad wasn’t dumb!” Crumpy yelled. “He was a hero, he fought monsters!”

He charged Luke. Luke knocked him over and sat on him. Kevin had grabbed a stick and was drawing in the sand.

“What you doing, dum-dum?” Luke asked.

“I can’t set you on fire but… I can summon ants!” Kevin said. He’d drawn a sigil in the sandbox.

“Ha, that’s dumb, there aren’t any…” Luke began. “OW!”

He sprang off Crumpy as the ants crawled over him biting him with their pointy-pointy mandibles, big ants, small ants, all ants in the general area began to swarm Luke like a picnic.

Kevin and Crumpy laughed, until Mrs. McNamarra, alerted by the screams, came over and grabbed Kevin by the arm.

“Kevin! What did you do to that poor boy!” she yelled.

“I didn’t set him on fire, OW!” Kevin said as his arm was pulled.

“Crumpy, is everything alright?” asked Crumpy’s Mom.

Crumpy explained hurriedly.

Mrs. McNamarra sighed and let Kevin go.

“Kevin, stopping a bully is good, but you can’t use magic to punish people,” she scolded. “Call off the ants.”

Luke was on the ground itching and screaming as his Dad attempted to swat the ants off his son.

“Fine,” Kevin grunted. He made a banishing gesture and the ants swarmed away.

She was smiling a bit. “C’mon Jenn let’s go back to my place, we can have lunch, grab a drink and the boys can play.”

Jenn shook her head: “Alright, sure.”

“Can we have popsicles?” Asked Kevin.

“Yeah sure  but remember to share with Crumpy and the familiars.” Mrs. McNamarra said.

“Awww, ok,” Kevin sighed.

So they left for Lorna’s green bungalow with its small backyard and wards on the door, where they had ham sandwiches with a delightful pasta salad on the side. The women had wine and the boys kool-aid. Crumpy didn’t know it at the time but Kevin would be his friend for the rest of their lives. 

* This Senator had served for as long as anyone could recall and it wasn’t common knowledge that this very old man was in fact nothing more than a moldering evil magic skeleton, not just a regular old man. Everyone expects Lichs to wear cloaks, and speak like Christoper Lee, not white linen suits and sound like Foghorn Leghorn.

[kolanaki]

I've never shared this with anyone before, but watching spooky stuff for October has had me remembering it again after years of not thinking about it. Sometime between 7th and 9th grade, I saw something that I cannot explain and has freaked me the fuck out ever since. I really didn't expect anyone to believe me then, and I really don't expect anyone to now but I need to get it off my chest to maybe get it off my mind.

I had woken up around 3 in the morning thirsty as hell, so I groggily got up, grabbed my cup off my night stand and went downstairs to get some water. I barely had my eyes open until I was standing in front of the fridge and only opened them to make sure the ice was set to cubed as my mom would always leave it on crushed. I immediately noticed a dull, amber light illuminating the kitchen from the window in front of the sink.

The nearest street lamp on the street behind my house was a few houses down and didn't really reach the kitchen from the angle it was relative to it, so I turned around to see where this light was coming from and as soon as I saw it I reflexively backed into the fridge and slipped falling onto my ass. I just sat there stunned and scared shitless because what I saw was nothing of this world I've seen or read about.

I managed to get the courage to slowly crouch and peer over the island counter I was currently behind to get a better look. In my backyard were two *things* seemingly looking for something. They had large, lumpy heads (or at least it was a prominent part of the top of the body) that were translucent and emitting the amber light. Stuff was floating around in the head but I couldn't make out more than black silhouettes against the light.

They had no eyes that I could discern, but they had mouths with puffy, puckered, reddish lips that a long, pointed blue or black (hard to tell with the orangish light) tongue would occasionally flick out and lick the air; like a snake "sniffing." I couldn't tell if they had a real body or if from the "neck" of the creature was only tendrils. They had several long appendages that seemed specialized with different "hands," some of which looked like they could have been technological tools as they had somewhat recognizable man-made shapes such as a drill on one and an infrared thermometer on another.

The one further from the window I thought had what looked like a metallic backpack on but before I could really look at any detail I might have gleamed in the amber light, the one closest to the window slapped one of its "arms" against the window with a "hand" of a dozen or more smaller, worm-like fingers all wriggling against the glass, and I'll never forget the sound it made as it probed the window. A light, meaty slapping and streaking sound as they bumped and slithered across it.

That's when I had had enough and slowly crawled on my butt staying as low as I could back out of the kitchen, down the hall and out of sight of the window before standing up and bolting back to my room, locking the door behind me and pushing my dresser in front of the window. I just sat on my bed huddled in the corner of the wall watching the window until I could see the sunlight peeking through behind the dresser before I finally passed out.

When I woke later in the afternoon, before the sun had gone down I went into the backyard to see if anything was out of place and I couldn't find anything weird. Not a mark in the dirt, not any residue on the glass where that thing has rubbed it, nothing. I've searched online for cryptids or even alien encounters that match what I saw and have never come up with anything even remotely close. I don't know what the fuck those things were, and I am not even entirely sure they are a threat but it makes me feel extremely uneasy knowing that they exist.

[puppetmaster13u]

Meet my Boi

Jacob lives in a bit of a crazy world where he’s not exactly surprised to get bitten by some sort of monstrous spider thing. His city is a bit mutated anyway, with biological attacks happening almost weekly and who knows what crawling through the sewers. Hence the face and gas masks- which helps hide the pedipalps anyway. 

He’s a bit of a cryptid, becoming more openly so as he learns to accept himself, spidery-bits and all. His first suit is more human-leaning, mostly with whatever lost and leftover medical and military supplies he can scrounge up, seeing as he’s borderline living on the streets before meeting his mentors to-be. 

His second suit, he’s starting to let out his less human appendages, openly using them when before no one was sure as to if there was some sort of creature running around the streets or if it was a vigilante. This is also when more people start referring to them as Spiderhawk and not just “that thing” or “the shadow”. 

The third suit, he starts to fully lean into the name the city gave him, adding ‘feathers’ to his cape and mimicking a bird tail in a piece. Combined with web-slinging, and he does look like he’s flying. Not to mention the fact he has a habit of skittering up walls backwards whenever he’s cornered or wants out of a situation. 

Like most Spidermen, he of course has the spidey-sense, though it’s more obvious whenever he’s aware thanks to the hair on his limbs visually bristling. His webbing is also biological, though by the third suit he adds on some mechanical storage. This has resulted in him... eating some of the old webbing when he’s low on food, much like an actual spider to save energy. 

He can also climb up walls and ceilings, though is overwhelmed through most things if he uses his hands, resulting in him using his spider-limbs more often without realizing and then getting upset when he realizes what he’s doing. In his first suit he practically bound his legs to his back, being absolutely terrified that he’d use them and get taken to some lab or something. 

He’s actually venomous, which he discovers after biting someone and becoming more than a little traumatized. He later became more traumatized (and disgusted by his own body) when he started to molt like a spider, leaving behind bloody chunks. This is also when he lost his canines and sprouted his first fangs, which is about when he stole the face masks and gas mask.  Technically everyone is supposed to have one due to the common attacks in the city, but there’s also a high homeless population that does not get those things. This of course also results in a very high crime rate, also not helped by several corrupt people high up. 

A lot of his stuff is stolen or scrounged up from the streets, helped along by one of his mentors being an almost professional thief. This does however mean that he struggles with smaller morals and won’t deal with minor crime like robbers- as long as they follow the ‘Rules’ of the streets.  This of course also doesn’t help with people not even being sure of his existence and treating most reports like a cryptid sighting. 

Part of his weakness is a higher metabolism, not helped in the beginning by living on streets where there’s not much food to be spared. His vision is also much better than a human’s, but this can also be used against him, temporarily blinding him with sudden light.  Especially in the beginning when he got overwhelmed by feeling vibrations- which is why he wore gloves in the beginning for all but his final suit(s). He does eventually learn to use this to his advantage- mostly trapping his ‘Den’ as another street kid had put it- similar to a trapdoor spider or tarantula. 

His first ‘casual’ outfit was actually a thing he won from doing underground cage fights, which was originally how he got by before it was busted. Which everyone is pissed about because the ones run by those in high places are never touched despite the fact that they pay the fighters way less, if anything at all. 

This actually leads to what starts him on his ‘spiderman’ journey, which is quite literally breaking into a police station to get his fellow street kids out. Which spirals because not only are a few missing- including the person who ran the fights and made sure everyone got medical attention and everything- but the local military are then trying to find whoever broke in and are shaking down any homeless person for whatever they might’ve seen. 

I am thinking of making a spiderverse/spidersona of sorts in a Gotham-esque city. Just a pessimistic lil feral cryptid shit who will bite and hiss because the city he lives in is an utter shithole, but it's still home.

Also. I want to give him spider legs on his back so he can skitter up buildings for peak creachur vibes.