#Supernatural stories

[oakendesk]

Supernatural Stories Aug 1957

Henry Fox

[yunggoblin]

Love Bug - Dean Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Dean gets a cold and Sam doesn’t want to take care of his older brother. So it’s up to you to take care of the sick Winchester.

Warnings: Sickness, Sick!Dean Fluff

Word Count: 1,299

You sipped on your warm mug full of coffee while sitting in the kitchen. It was around six in the morning, the sun slowly rising, birds singing and the smell of your favorite coffee was in the air. The world seemed to be at peace for once, until a loud cough erupted throughout the hall. You’ve been hearing that scratchy cough all throughout the night. Sighing softly, rubbing your tired eyes. Sam walked into the kitchen looking just as tired as you, his shirt up over his nose not breathing in the air. “Kept you up too, huh?” You questioned, sipping on your morning beverage.

"Yeah." Sam sighed, grabbing the coffee pot he poured himself a cup, adding sugar and cream in it. "I say we drop Dean’s ass at a hotel until this leaves his system.” Sam said truthfully. You frowned at the youngest brother.

"Samuel, that's a rude thing to say. He’s sick, he needs sleep and support through this. Not moving around and getting out of bed.” Just as if it was ‘opposite day’, Dean shuffled his way into the kitchen wearing his black and red plaid robe and black slippers. The tip of his nose bright red and runny, pale yet clammy face, dark bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept in days.

"Morning.” He coughed into his arm, shuffling towards the coffee making you and Sam quickly step away.

"Dean, you need to be in bed.“ You announced.

"I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, trying to get the fluids out. “Just a cold.” He mumbled as he leaned against the counter, out of energy.

"Dean, go to bed. I’ll bring you some soup and tea.“ You snagged the coffee pot from his hand and placed it underneath the machine. Dean groaned but didn’t say another word as he shuffled back out of the kitchen, mumbling under his breath. As Dean walked out, so did Sam, making sure his older brother went back to bed.

You opened up the cabinet, going up on your tippy toes and reached up for the nearest tomato soup which was on the top shelf. Finally, your fingers wrapped around the metal can and brought it down, grabbing a pot and placing it on the stove you started up the flames letting the pot heat up and pouring the red thick liquid into the silver pot.

"Alright, I’ll be gone for a few days.” Sam announced, tossing the strap of his bag filled with clothes over his shoulder.

You gave him a smile with a small laugh, your attention going back to the soup, stirring it. “You’re really leaving because of a cold that Dean has?” You questioned.

"That is not a damn cold, he has the flu. Now, I’ll be down the road at that motel. Need anything just call.“ Sam said and left on that note. You rolled your eyes at his silliness, once the soup started to boil you poured it into a bowl. You placed a spoon in the soup and poured some orange juice into a cup, walking down the hallway towards Dean’s room in a careful manner so that you wouldn’t spill the meal.

You knocked softly and opened the door, "Hey, it’s me.” You told him and opened the door widely to see the poor male in his bed. Dean sat up as you placed the glass of orange juice on the night stand by his bed and the bowl of soup on the blanket that covered his lap. “If you need anything just text me, when your done get some sleep.” You reminded him, running your fingers through his messy hair and kissing his forehead. He really must have the flu, he was burning up.

"Thank you, Y/N.” He gave you a weak smile, like he used all of his energy just to give you a kind gesture.

"Get some rest, big guy.” You smiled and walked out of his room, shutting the door softly.

As time passed you did chores, disinfecting things to kill the virus if it was attached to anything in the bunker, doing laundry and the dishes. You put away the last plate and walked down the hallway back to Dean’s room, knocking softly. You opened up the door to see a passed out Dean stretched out on his bed. You smiled softly and tucked him in nice and tight, turning off the tv that was on a cop show and felt his forehead once again, still a bit warm. You grabbed his empty glass of juice and half way empty soup and walked out, shutting the door softly. 

As you put the wet clothes in the drier you sighed heavily, with your back aching. Today has been slow, no calls about hunts, no sign of Sam getting in trouble, no nothing. Grabbing the large blanket from the dryer, you made your way once more to Dean’s room this time he was getting dressed into new pajamas, wet hair. You realized he took a shower. “Oh hey.” Dean yawned as he crawled back into his memory foam bed. 

“Hey, I was just checking up on you.” You smiled and felt his forehead, he felt cool from the shower, he had a bit more color back into his cheeks and nose not as stuffed. “You’re looking better.” You said truthfully. “I brought you a fresh blanket, straight out of the dryer.”

“I feel better.” Dean sighed softly, snuggling down on his bed. “Thanks for not ditching me, like Sammy.” He chuckled softly. “Hmm.” He hummed as he rubbed his face against the soft plush cover, laying it out on his bed as he tossed the sickly blanket towards the hamper.

You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes and smile, of course the neat freak little brother dipped knowing there was a sickness in the bunker. “You’re welcome, sorry Sam left. He didn’t want to get sick.” You tucked Dean in about to leave but he quickly grabbed your wrist.

“No, please stay.” Dean begged, you bit your lip knowing the chances of getting sick. Dean scooted over for you to lay beside him. Sighing softly you nodded your head, climbing underneath the covers and laid down. Your back pressing up against his front. He was warm like a heating pad. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath making you break out in goosebumps as it hit your skin. 

Few days later Sammy came back like he promised. “Hey man, you look good.” Sam chuckled as he hugged Dean who was drinking coffee in the kitchen.

“I'm feeling damn good.” Dean smiled and hugged his taller brother back. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Sam asked, looking around, trying to find the mother-like women. 

“I’m right here.” You sniffed, shuffling into the room with a blanket wrapped around you. “I think you got me sick.” Coughing into your fist, pulling the blanket closer to your body, shivering. 

“I’ll see you in a few days.” Sam grabbed his bag and quickly left the bunker like it was contaminated. 

Dean looked over at you, smiling softly. “Looks like I’ll be the one looking after you,” He walked towards you, kissing your heated cheeks. “Get back to bed, I’ll make you some soup.” He said softly, his hand placing against your forehead and stroking down your cheek to cup it. “My sweet little girl, sick all because of me.” Dean leaned down and pressed his full lips against your warm forehead. 

“By the way we keep kissing each other sick and all we’re never going to get this flu out of the bunker.” You teased him.

“Sick or not, I’ll never stop kissing you.” Dean hummed, leaning down and pressing his lips against your soft ones.

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

REQUESTS closed

Hi everyone, requests are now closed on my page so I can catch up. 😘

Starwars

All characters

The Artful Dodger

All characters

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Castiel

Maze runner

Newt

Thomas

Gally

Minho

The last of us

Joel miller

Dune

All characters

You may request other fandoms and characters and I will let you know if I know them enough to write the requests.

Tag lists

If you wish to be part of my tag lists please use the request button and give me your username and fandoms.

If I see you liking a series I will add you to the tag list for that story.

Thanks everyone!

[mouseknightstudios]

Learning that you’re a ghost 👻 is not the easiest to accept… but there are some perks!

Get to know more about the world of Ghost InSpectors as detectives Ned and Mulligan try to figure out the new rules of "life" after death.

Watch the pilot episode of Ghost InSpectors -> https://youtu.be/yKHnUi25qGU Help us make the show by supporting our crowdfunding campaign or sharing this project with your friends -> https://igg.me/at/ghost-inspectors

[nemorialex]

Thanksgiving Invitations

Alex stared at the 3 identical envelopes in front of them, neatly laid out on the coffee table and took a deep breath. One was already missing, sent quickly off in Corintha's direction. The Marketplace had a slightly different reality clock to Haven's, so she had a good... Week? Or so? To prepare and make her way here.

Alex leaned forward and slid one of them forward and out of consideration. They'd see Jay soon enough, and if not he was getting the much less formal text notification and could collect the paper version at the event itself for his personal paper trail.

No... It was these two that was giving them a headache currently. It was entirely too tempting to just... Not send the invitations out. Oops oh no! Two less guests how sad oh well... But no. Alex had asked Zack for these invitations, and they intended on following through.

They sighed an even deeper sigh and stood, taking the envelopes and tucking them into the inner pocket of their coat. They'd get the more troublesome one out of the way first, and by the time their portal cooled down, they could figure out what in the hell to say to the second...

[anki-of-beleriand]

Looking for ghost stories

Hey guys, I need some help, someone knows a good place where I can locate ghost stories, or hunted stories, things like that in Rome, Florence, Venice, Prague, Naples, and Krakow?

I'm planning my next trip but I will like to know more about folk supernatural stories, or creepy stories in these places.

[thethirdbear]

[screamingeyepress]

Ready for some twisted humor? 💥 Meet Dr. Mary, Tiffany Teagarden, and the strangest cast of characters as they take you on a bizarre adventure in Twisted Pulp Radio Hour Episode 001. 💣 Atomic bombs, fused bodies, and a whole lot of chaos. Catch it now! 🔗 https://www.screamingeyepress.com/podcasts/twisted-pulp-radio-ep1/

[yunggoblin]

Warm Pie - Crowley (18+)

Pairing: Crowley x Female!Reader

Summary: Coming home from a three day hunt Dean finds that his pie has been fucked with, literally. You make two fresh pies, only to catch the person who’s been destroying the pies with his dick later that night.

Warnings: 18+, Cussing, Smut, Pie Fucking, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2,657

You walked inside of the bunker, exhausted, worn out and sore from a three day hunt, taking out a vampire’s nest. You always try to remind yourself that hunting isn’t always fun and games, sure it has its ups like saving people. Then there was the down side about it, it didn’t put money in your pocket and you weren’t getting any younger as the years rolled by. You sighed tiredly, sliding the heavy backpack full of clothes off your shoulders. Shuffling down the hallway, leaving a trail of your items behind you heard Sam huffed.

“Really, Y/N? You can’t hang your things up?“ Sam questioned as he grabbed the bag that was randomly lying in the middle of the room and hung it up. 

You twirled around at your older brother. "I’m tired, I’m covered in vampire blood from head to toe.” You hissed, after staying up for three days and two nights you were in no mood to be lectured at. “Samuel.” You strictly said, pinching the bridge of your nose and eyes closed. Taking a deep breath before you speak. “I would like to relax for once, just an hour or so.” You gritted your teeth, obviously cranky from lack of sleep from the past three days. “Now please, stop complaining. I’ll clean my mess up when I get done from the shower.” You turned around making your way towards your room. 

Once you made your way into the bathroom and stripped out of the bloody clothing you stepped into the steamy hot shower. Sighing softly in relaxation and letting the water run down your body, you couldn’t help but feeling you were being watched. You gripped the curtain and quickly poked your head out to see no one in sight, just the steam fogging up the mirror and swirling around the bathroom getting sucked up by the blowing vent. Shrugging your shoulders you went back to taking your shower and scrubbing off the redness of the blood from your body. 

”Y/N!“ You heard your name being called as you made your way down the hallway towards the kitchen. 

“What’s up, Dean?” You asked as you wrapped a towel around your head, having your damp hair up. You got dressed into some fresh pajamas after your steaming hot shower. Your feet pitter pattered into the kitchen, glad to not be wearing bulky boots.

"Did you do this?“ Dean asked angrily, pointing towards the table. Your eyes made their way towards the pie that had a hole in the middle of it and was a bit sloppy along with two slight dented circles below the large hole. 

You arched an eyebrow wondering what happened to the poor apple pie. Your mind instantly thought of that one scene from American Pie only to have you bursting out laughing. "One of you boys get lonely over the nights?” You teased, placing your hand over your mouth snickering. 

"It’s not funny! Who would do this to a poor pie!?“ Dean pouted and crossed his arms. "Sam, did you do this?” Dean snapped dark eyes darting towards his youngest brother. 

Sam quickly placed his hands up in self defense. “I didn’t do it.” Sam quickly said. 

"And I don’t have a dick to do that.“ You laughed at the deformed pie in the middle of the table. "Plus, it would make more sense if it was you, you sure it wasn’t you who did this?” You questioned. “You’re the one who loves pie so damn much.” You grinned. “Was it like this when you bought it?”

"I might love pie, but not so much to fuck it!“ Dean snapped, making you burst out laughing. “No it wasn’t like this when I bought it!” Dean frowned, upset that someone assaulted the dessert. “I bought it before we went on our hunt and it was in the fridge the whole time.” A frown was settled upon Dean’s lips.

"Maybe Castiel was confused and did it.” You shrugged. “Dean I’ll make you another pie, so stop your whining.” You said going towards the covers and pulling out the ingredients for the pie. You pulled out cherries to make a different flavor this time. “But it’s going to be after dinner tomorrow, I’m going to bed soon.” You said, yawning with a stretch. You felt bad for Dean not getting a delicious dessert after a long hunt but you were tired and wanted to rest before doing anything else.

Dean huffed and crossed his arms. “Fine, I don’t care as long as I get my pie.” He muttered and with that, the three of you said ‘good night’ and headed in different directions of the bunker and went to your rooms. 

The next day came rolling by. You pulled out the freshly baked cherry pies, placing them both on top of the stove waiting for them to cool off. Quickly slapping Dean’s hand away as he tries to dip his fingers in the hot crust to get a taste.

"Dinner first, Dean-O.“ You smiled. "Okay, so I made two pies this time if one gets destroyed.” You laughed softly and looked at him. “But, what I don’t get is who would want to fuck a pie?” You questioned not getting the full concept of the point of doing it. “Does it feel good or something?” You questioned realizing the pink shade on Dean’s cheeks.

"Well uh, (Y/N). They say the only thing that you can compare pussy to is well… Warm pie.“ He coughed out awkwardly which made your cheeks quickly heat up. 

"Oh, wow. Uh, that is very awkward.” You said trying to laugh it off. He nodded and Sam came in with burgers he had got from the nearest food joint. 

"Awesome, dinner time.“ Dean smiled and quickly chowed down his thick burger from his favorite restaurant so he could get a piece of pie. 

You took bites and slowly chewed the burger, staring at the wall still trying to figure out why anyone would thrust their dick into a warm pie, were they really desperate and who in the hell was it? Sam, Dean or Castiel? One of them was lying but another was too embarrassed to admit it. You slowly swallowed the food and realized that someone was calling your name. 

"Huh?” You asked confused after being pulled out of your thoughts. You saw Dean by the pies ready to dig into one of them, fork in hand. “Yeah, go ahead.” You said and wrapped your sandwich up, not even eating half of it. Sam noticed and frowned towards you.

"You okay?“ Sam questioned you.

Nodding with a response. "Yeah, just tired.” Lie. You were quite disturbed about the pie from last night that you didn’t even want a piece. “I’m going to head to bed.” You announced and made your way towards the door. “Enjoy the dick flavored pie.” You joked about making Dean gag. 

"That’s not funny!“ Dean exclaimed. 

You rolled over on your back sighing heavily, staring up at the white ceiling above you. You were tired but not tired enough to fall asleep. Turning your head slightly to see the red lines on the clock that made up numbers ‘2:36 a.m’. You sighed once more and rolled over on your side, closing your eyes trying to force yourself to fall asleep. 

You quickly jolted up as you heard something in the kitchen, your eyes darted towards the clock. 2:45 a.m. You quickly slipped on your pink fluffy slippers and grabbed your knife that was wedged between your mattresses and box spring. Slipping past the door and tip toeing your way down the hall towards the dark kitchen. Cold sweat ran through your body as your heart was beating out of your chest. You couldn’t control your shaky breath as you exhaled. You knew Sam and Dean were asleep, after pie, a good food joint and beers in their stomach they were out cold for the night.

"Oh fuck.” You heard a low voice grunt out. You stopped walking towards the kitchen, your face heating up realizing what it was. Soon sloppy thrusting was echoing throughout the kitchen. This was your chance to catch the pie fucker. You leaned against the door frame, knife in hand ready to strike if something goes wrong. 

"Fuck baby, just like that.“ You heard a moan escaping the stranger’s lips. 

"Is that better than pussy?” You teased, flickering on the kitchen lights to finally see who it was. Your eyes widen to see The King Of Hell, his black dress pants wrapped around his ankles, leaning up against the counter, left hand gripping the edge of the counter, right hand on the back of the pie pan, cock buried deep in the cherry pie. There stood the King himself, speechless to see the youngest Winchester that caught him red handed. 

"I uh.” He paused for a moment only to swallow the lump in his throat. “I can explain.“ Crowley’s thick voice was rough from the lust, his accent deeper. 

You blushed at the sight of him, who knew that he was the one who did it. "You’re the King of Hell and you choose to have a warm cherry pie to fuck other than these female demons who would be more than glad to be on your cock?” You questioned. Crowley was still standing there, not knowing what to say. Now both of his hands are on the back of the pie pan, cock still balls deep in the pie. 

"So tell me,“ You begin and place the knife down on the table, eyes still on the demon. "why do it?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side. 

"Really, is it not noticeable? I’m doing it to mess with Dean.“ He flashed a smirk. "He loves pie, what’s the best thing to piss him off? Fuck with his pie, literally.” He blushed under his beard and looked down at the pie and back up at you. “I apologize for you seeing me like this.” He said, clearing his throat. “I thought everyone was asleep.” With a snap of his fingers, he was cleaned up and the destroyed pie was on the table. There were holes from where his cock had been penetrating into and the perfect crust smashed into the bottom of the pan. 

You flashed a smile and walked towards the pie and dipping your fingers into it and took them out, up towards your lips and suckled on them, your tongue dragging along the cherry pie filling that was covering your digits. You could hear Crowley’s breath hitch in his throat. “Hmm, tastes even sweeter.” You flashed him a smirk. The demon gulped. You noticed his black pants that were now around his waist beginning to tighten as his cock began to get hard, pitching a tent. You eyed back up at him, smirk still on your lips.

“So, if you’d like you can bury your cock in something else.” You wink and with that Crowley took as an invite. “I don’t know if it’ll be sweet as pie” You teased him only for the demon to be in front of you in a blink of an eye, gripping the back of your neck and forcing you to be bent over the table. He tugged down your pajama pants and panties, exposing your ass. He growled, noticing the wetness in your panties. 

"So wet for me hmm?“ He growled, the hand behind your neck leaving to cup your cunt from behind, your lips being a perfect display.

"Obviously, the sight of you thrusting your hips. Lovely view.” You giggled and quickly gasped out a moan as his hand came down, slapping your exposed cunt. 

“Be a good little girl and behave.“ He demanded making you nod your head ‘yes’, quickly. You heard him fiddling with his belt and soon heard his pants drop to the ground just. He placed the head of his cock against your wet folds only to push his head in and put out in a teasing manner. “Feels so good, darling.” 

You cried out clawing at the table, arching your back trying to push your hips back against him as he did it again. "Crowley, pleas-” That was when he roughly pushed in, no warning, no nothing. “Oh fuck!” You whimpered. He quickly snaked his hand to your mouth and covered it. 

"Don’t want to wake your brothers, now do we love?“ He grunted in between thrusts. You could have sworn he was going to break the table by the way he thrust into you the right way, quick and swift thrusts snapped against your ass as he pumped inside of you faster.

He slowly moved his hand away and gripped your hips and shoved his whole length in more. "Oh god I’m going to come!” You whimpered out. He wrapped his fingers in your hair, roughly tugging at it making your head lean back.

"You’ll come when I say to come” He growled lowly. His thrust picking up makes the wooden table underneath you squeak. The legs of the table gave a screech as it went across the kitchen floor. With every thrust he got a moan out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He muttered as he planted kisses on your shoulder blade, the way his lips fluttered against your skin and his beard scratching your shoulder ad you shaking. 

Your cunt squeezed around Crowley’s cock as he dragged his dick out from your tight channel and pushed back in, the wet suction of your pussy echoing in the kitchen. “C- Crowley, your cock-” You choked out trying to tell him how good he felt inside of you but your mind was nearly fried from the lust and attention he was giving you.

“Oh, I know love.” Crowley said a bit too cockily, he indeed sold his soul to get a few inches below the belt and lucky for him it stayed like that even becoming the King of Hell. 

“Fuck, Y/N. I can feel your fucking cunt fluttering around my cock.” Crowley grunted admiring the scene in front of him as his cock disappeared inside of your cunt from behind. He watched as you let out soft sobs and silent moans so your brothers wouldn’t rush in to see what all the commotion was. Crowley smirked not knowing what Dean would be pissed more about, finding out Crowley was fucking his little sister or his pies. 

“Go ahead little girl, come, come all over my cock. Soak my cock with your sweet juices.” Crowley demanded, gripping your waists tightly as he started to jack hammer his hips roughly, his cock full force pushing in and pulling out of your velvet like cunt. Your loud moans had him glancing towards the kitchen door, worried that the older Winchesters would be running in.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes, yes.” You chanted. “Crowley!” You cried out as your walls tightened and the coil in your lower belly snapped as you came undone on his thick cock. 

Crowley was panted heavily behind you, stilling his hips as he grunted out a moan while his creamy come squirted inside your sopping wet pussy. Crowley exhaled a breath as he leaned forward, his forehead resting on her back as they stayed there for a few seconds collecting your breaths. 

“That was the best I’ve had in well, let's say a very long time.“ Crowley chuckled lowly and slowly slid out of your pussy, he admired the mixed juices flowing out of your spazzing fucked pussy. You stood up and pulled up your pajama pants and panties up, having his come dribble out onto your panties.

"Better than warm pie?” You turned around, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, he was already dressed and a smirk on his face as you mentioned the pie.

"Better than warm pie.“ He confirmed.

Crowley's Masterlist

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Hi everyone, requests may take a bit longer to come out for a while. I have broken my hand so it's a little harder to write at the moment.

Don't worry they will all get done and sent out just not as fast as before.

Thank you all for sticking with me and enjoying my little stories.

Much love to you all 💜💜

[paranormal-playground-podcast]

The Phone Booth at the Crossroads

Late one evening, Jake was driving home from a late shift at work. He took a wrong turn and ended up on a deserted road he had never seen before. As he drove, he noticed an old, dilapidated phone booth at a crossroads. It stood out, almost beckoning him to stop. Curious and feeling an odd compulsion, Jake decided to pull over and investigate.The Phone BoothThe phone booth looked like it hadn’t…

[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

[nemorialex]

Interludes

Thanksgiving Invitations

[entrepreneurialStarfighter began chatting!]

Congratulations! You've been invited to the annual Thanksgiving Feast of the Gods. idk if it's called something else, tbh, but you bet your ass that it's gonna be a FEAST and that gods are gonna be there.

I'm Zack (if you didn't already know that, lol) and I'll be cooking p much everything, except for the pies. Alex called dibs or whatever. >:/ If there's some kinda food that's NOT the usual turkey, stuffing, potatoes, green beans, yams, and accompanying sauces, let me know ASAP thx.

And if this is just a print-out that Alex or John gave to you the old fashioned way, just let them know I guess? And they'll get back to me. Or you can drop me a line, chat handle "entrepreneurialStarfighter"

It's going to be at Cafe Calest's this year [coords.txt] Usual Time/Date [3pm CST/Feast Day]

No real dress code? I mean, dress fancy if you wanna, just make sure you're not too fucking stuffy to get stuffed, yk? lol.

Anyway, seeya then.

[gutsyGumshoe replied!]

[GG] Um, hello? [GG] I don't mean to spurn an invitation to what sounds like a lovely evening, but I think you have the wrong handle!

[ES] Oh shit. [ES] Uh... [ES] No I don't, I copy/pasted it, promise. Also just double checked it, lol.

[GG] Oh... [GG] Copy and pasted it from where? I don't think we've talked before. [GG] Or, if we have, it hasn't been on this channel.

[ES] Nah, FutureMe said I should send the invite out to you too. [ES] Apparently there's a couple new guys coming to dinner this year? But like, you were the only one who needed at text invite for some reason, idk. [ES] Think everyone else is a fucking paper invite. >:/

[GG] "FutureMe?" [GG] Is that some sort of computer program?

[ES] No, it's [ES] It's fucking hard to explain over chat when I'm making a FUCK ton of food rn lmao! [ES] Listen, just show up and I'll explain later, ok? It's better as an in-person demo anyway. [ES] ttyl.

[entrepreneurialStarfighter has logged off!]

[GG] Wait! [GG] How in the Dickins am I supposed to figure out how to get there! [GG] ... [GG] Drat.

[gutsyGumshoe has logged off!]

[cranialgunk]

Dandadan: Allegory or just immature fun

Dandadan by Yukinobu Tatsu can be read as an allegory about male pubescent ascendance and anxiety. Or it can just be fun. It can be a silly immature schoolyard joke that the author has imagined into an exciting fast-paced supernatural horror comedy. According to Anime Hunch, Yukinobu Tatsu wrote Dandadan as a desperate final effort to have an ongoing series. His illustrations were well…