#its that yokai from before ):<< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[oh-no-its-bird]

Hear me out: warring states era Hatake who went on a mission somewhere in the land of waves and fell off the fucking map— where they then witnessed the Unspeakable Timeless Horrors Of The Sea And Spiral, then washed up on shore a solid years later, irreversible changed and tangibly Other.

Their wolf contract no longer works because there is something so deeply Wrong with them that animals (especially contract beats and spirits) can feel it. There is something tangibly, legitimately Other(tm) about them, and while they've been wholeheartedly accepted back into the clan, everyone knows this is not the same person who they lost a year ago

They gazed into the abyss and the abyss gazed back type shit fr

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

The Pretty Boy at the Crossroads

A piece from a collection of shorts inspired by Junjo Ito. Enjoy.🖤

In this town, fog was known to appear sporadically. Thick and expected many would use this chance to open themselves up to the “cross-roads divination.” If asked the curious would be answered by the next person to pass at the crossroad. 

While making the town infamous there were some disturbing instances. Many are utterly in love being told their love would be unrequited before ending themselves in gruesome ways. Others, after receiving their fortune would exhibit other strange behaviors—starving themselves, laughing erratically, or in extreme cases attacking their peers. 

Some would chalk up these reports to mere rumors but the fact remained that there was a steady visit from the asylum’s van. Of course that made you wary. Whether it was the haunted spirits of those who’d died or someone with words powerful enough to kill yourself, you wanted no part of it. Which is why you kept your head down when the fog rolled in and you could hear the steps of someone approaching ahead of you. Keeping your eyes trained on your hands holding your briefcase, you planned to let them pass without incident. 

Commanding your heart to still its frantic beating as the steps grew louder. 

All before…it stopped.

“Would you like to have your fortune told?”

The voice that spoke sounded smooth, like a voice actor or a sultry narrator of an audiobook. Still, your resolve wasn’t shaken, and your voice hadn’t left you completely. 

“No thank you.”

You thought that’d be the end of it. Allowed to continue your commute but the steps didn’t start up again. It’s then you can feel your smartwatch buzz with alarm, reminding you of your trek to work.

“If you’ll excuse me I have to–”

The feeling of a cold grip on your shoulder made you shiver. 

“I’d like to have my fortune told.”

Baffled by his words, you forgot the rules you’d set in place looking at the man who’s holding you still. He was pretty. Soft, rounded face with big eyes, crimson lips, and earrings that dangled. You figured he must be a foreigner considering he seemed to be confused about how this works. 

“That’s not how it works but as long as this is quick I don’t mind.”

You’d never heard of those accidents happening between typical people. Almost always the rumor has it that it’s an unknown entity that causes those tragic reactions. While you haven’t run a background check, you figured that the one asking wasn’t some yokai or woman with a smile carved into her face.

“Do you think you’ll fall in love with me, the same way I love you?”

Is this what it was like to be hit on? On one hand, using the town’s tradition to flirt was creative, you weren’t exactly keen to reciprocate with someone you just met. With no hesitation despite the smile on his painted lips, you spoke again wrenching your arm from the grip that was still cold to the touch. 

“No.”

You planned to walk away after that. To disappear into the thick fog in the opposite direction finally getting to work and avoiding the awkwardness of this situation. But the frosted breath grazed your neck and the smell of Jasmine overtook your senses. You had no choice but to look, directly into the eyes of the Pretty Boy at the Crossroads.

“My love will not be unrequited.”

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[bewitched-hours]

Wakey wakey.. eggs and bakey.. okay so what if tanuki!reader x 007n7. Because imagine if you see a fat thing on ur chest but in reality it's just UR partner

LMFAO THAT LAST SENTENCE I LOVE IT

Reader's getting They/Them for this kek-

It's not everyday that something like you pops into the survivor cabin.

At first you looked completely normal and everyone assumed you were just another Robloxian.

But you didn't bother hiding your real identity so it didn't take many questions to find out you were a Tanuki. You were just able to switch around between being a Tanuki and a Robloxian. You even had 'in-between' forms that you were able to show off.

And not long after, you were declared a support class. You didn't have much of a punch in you but you were faster than most of the survivors and could tank a few hits while healing your teammates using fruits and berries that no one is even sure where you get them from but they still heal so they won't question it.

But your favourite so far has been 007n7. He didn't understand why you'd stick by him so much and at first, it was simply because he listened and sometimes made the effort to teleport with you so you didn't have to tank as many hits for him.

Of course, you also listened to his ramblings when he finally opened up, offering comfort instead of pushing him away and sometimes even just enjoying the silence between you two.

It wasn't awkward. Ever. Just comfortable.

Sometimes he even found you taking a nap outside the cabins and bring you back to your or his cabin to keep you comfortable.

You weren't a light sleeper either. You didn't move much but the fact you were so hard to wake up at first was a little annoying.

It was a good thing you enjoyed having your routine so much.

What wasn't good, was that you failed to hide your favouritism towards 007. Everyone knew.

And a few of them took note of your odd but subtle behaviours.

You had a big ol' crush on the ex-hacker. But you hid it under the excuse of Tanuki instincts.

Most were fooled by it but you'd admit it to some of the survivors you actually befriended. Mostly Elliot and Dusekkar.

And both would simply wish you luck because 007's self-confidence is too low to allow himself to think you actually fell in love with him. At least the 'instinct' excuse made him feel a little better but still-

You'd have to tell him one way or another, you couldn't exactly tell if the Spectre would ever feel a little more cruel and remove either of you from its cruel game. So, you hatched a plan.

Over time, you'd find yourself coincidentally 'napping' near 007's cabin and waiting for him to carry you inside before cuddling up against him, still pretending to sleep.

His increased heartbeat told you what you needed to know for your plan to work.

Next, you'd bring him little gifts outside of rounds. they were always heart-shaped to make your interest obvious. Still, he didn't say anything about it which told you it was time for your last step...

Just... Straight up confessing...

You wanted it to feel special but part of you knew this loveable idiot wouldn't take the hints and despite knowing both your Raccoon Dog and Yokai ancestors would not approve of this man in the first place...

Ah, to hell with it, you were never one to actually care about tradition anyways.

So tonight, you decided to visit 007 yourself.

You puffed up your chest a bit, taking deep breaths before knocking at his cabin door with a smug but determined smile on your face.

7n7 was a bit startled when he saw you standing there. "[Reader]? You don't usually-"

But you cut him off with a huff. "I need to tell you something and I can't have this bothering me any longer." You said firmly but quietly, waiting for him to step aside before making your way to his bed and sitting down with a relieved sigh.

Of course, he was confused but looked worried. "Did something happen??" He asked as he sat down beside you.

He wanted to comfort you but you simply leaned up against him, both surprising and flustering him as he attempted to figure out what you were about to say.

"It's no secret I favour you over the others but the thing about it being to blame on my instincts is... Sort of a lie..." You began to grow quiet, feeling your heart bump loudly in your chest.

It was more a relief when you could feel 007's heart pounding against your side while he held you awkwardly, stammering to find a response.

"Truth is... I love you. More than I can put into words to be all cutesy or sweet but if we ever get out of this hell, I'm hoping I'll get to find you again so we can continue life together..." You felt your face heat up from letting all that out, not daring to see 7n7's response as an awkward silence fell between you both.

But with a heavy sigh, he simply managed to press a kiss against the top of your head and leaned down slightly to whisper into your ear with a flushed red face. "I... Love you too... It felt almost selfish to wonder if you felt the same so I never really cared to express it but I'm happy you do..."

Now you were both flustered beyond belief and cuddled up awkwardly... Lovely-

But something told you you'd have many more 'mornings' to wake up on the ex-hacker's chest... Wether that's as a person or a Tanuki...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[lazy4honey]

Insidious Waters

I felt encouraged so I wrote more and now it’s about 6k words.

Trigger Warning: thalassophobia, claustrophobia, a creeping change of the reader’s body, way of thinking, and perception (including food)

Contains: tentacles / koromodako x gender neutral reader; dub-con, insidious, i.e. gradual, subtle but harmful, assimilation; nipple play, penetration, lots of 💦, belly bulge, cumflation, a form of sex pollen, orgy, breeding, oviposition, NSFW & MDNI

✧ Good to know: a merrow is a mermaid or merman in Irish folklore

✧ : a koromodako is an octopus-like yokai that appears small and can grow to large sizes, big enough to engulf fish or big ships, and then shrink again

Don’t like, don’t read!

Five years ago, they caught a merrow near the northwestern Dalay Coast. They were brought into a research facility far inland, and then never heard of again.

There were protests against this treatment of the ocean folk in the beginning, but those soon died down. With the ocean constantly encroaching on the continent, there were many more personal things to worry about.

Then, you were invited to join an expedition. The vessel for this expedition would be the luxury cruiser sized submarine Athena, and the goal was to catch more sea merfolk and study them while on board. Even if you didn’t want to, you had no choice but to agree.

There were many people boarding the Athena this early morning when the pale dawn had just started to illuminate the foggy sea. The huge submarine resembled a behemoth lying in wait amidst the gentle waves, making your heart sink in trepidation as you gazed at it and clutched your sparse luggage. They’d told you that you wouldn’t need a lot down there, but as always, they weren’t to be fully trusted.

The queue moved forward. You swallowed nervously and couldn’t help thinking of that merrow they’d caught back then. Had they gleaned any insights from that capture, or were they just as clueless as in the beginning, which was why they sent you on this expedition? It was hard to say, and worrying to think about.

“Are you alright?”

You turned back. A towering orc lady was looking at you worriedly.

“You seem a little pale.”

You forced a smile, “Just nervous, thank you.”

She tilted her head. “I don’t understand why you’re thanking me, but you’re welcome.”

That got a chuckle out of you. Right, humans and their politeness were very strange to other beings residing on Pangea. Even elves with their mellifluous language had a more direct way of speaking than most humans. Or maybe it was more… sincere?

Anyway, such qualities were much appreciated.

There was a disturbance at the front of the queue; someone has forgotten their documents and was now getting into an argument.

The orc lady behind you sighed, “Just how long do we have to wait before we van set off?”

You thought about it, “Probably a few hours.”

She groaned.

Time passed slowly, and eventually, boredom made people get creative. Sitting down to read or paint, making some last calls before the connection was gone, downloading a slew of videos and podcasts, playing games or simply chatting with nearby people, all brought some liveliness into the long queue.

As such, you learned that the orc lady was named Flora, specialized in maritime shell creatures and their reproduction cycles, and was comically clumsy at fighting. She laughed when she said that her mother had kicked her out because of that last part.

Later, a few others joined your conversation, and by the time the sun had reached its zenith, you finally stepped on board of the Athena. It was just the compression chamber, but a little step is still a step.

Only after adjusting to the pressure were you allowed to truly enter the submarine. As the name hinted at, the Athena was built for gathering intel and preparing for a potential war with the ocean dwellers. Because of this, there were many researchers from various areas of expertise on board, all tasked with uncovering the secrets of the unfathomable depths.

From the inside, despite being tight and narrow to the point of triggering claustrophobia, the Athena didn’t look like an expedition vessel. It seemed more like a luxury cruiser, with an elegant lobby displaying a false sky through a digital dome and many potted plants cluttering the space between the intimately spaced seating areas. The sleeping arrangements were also very lavish — or rather, having a single person cabin with a bunk bed over a desk and its own bathroom was considered lavish for a submarine.

You stowed away your luggage, then followed the floor plan to the canteen. Following the overall style though, it was more of a restaurant. It made you feel like each meal could be your last before your inevitable death. As a result, the appetizing dishes all ended up being tasteless when they entered your mouth.

In the evening, after another tasteless dinner and a long steam bath, you lay in bed reading a book when there was an announcement. They said that everyone had boarded, so the teams currently on shift would do one last round of checks before the Athena would set off. If everything went well, by tomorrow morning, you would already be under the waves when you woke up again.

The following days, you barely noticed that you were inside a huge metal can diving deeper and deeper into the dark abyss that was the ocean. You followed your usual routine of eating, working, and entertaining yourself as you did on land, the only difference being the different colleagues and your occasional chat with Flora. Through the thick glass of the portholes, you saw the deep blue water, and sometimes when your thoughts drifted staring at that endless expanse, you meant to see something moving far away in the distance.

From then on, things got… strange. Your research still went as usual, but… for instance, when you were washing your hands and glanced up at the mirror, the reflected image you saw was blurred, a little like the mirror had fogged up. And in that reflection, your eyes carried an abysmal darkness unseen in any creature on land. Their gaze caught you, fascinated you, lured you with unspoken promises you couldn’t even put into thoughts, much less words.

Apart from this, the water in your bathroom smelled strange. You asked Flora and a few other people, but the water turned out to smell strange everywhere, so you unhappily decided to put this matter aside. Maybe the pressure was impacting your sense of smell? Or the water-filtration system couldn’t get rid of the deep sea’s unique stink, which was honestly more likely.

One evening, amidst the water’s weird scent, you unexpectedly fell asleep during your steam bath. Your mind was in a daze, resting on the fringes of consciousness. The water filling the bathtub splashed against you, and you vaguely felt something move next to you.

It was cold and smooth, almost slimy, feeling strange as it brushed against your bare skin. When it touched you, you recognized it as a pair of tentacles. They wandered over your body in an exploratory manner, poking and squeezing every now and then.

Then one of the tentacles poked your nipple. You moaned uncontrollably. The previous touches had already made heat pool in your abdomen like a lava lake, and touching you there only made it boil over.

Seemingly intrigued by your reaction, the tentacles focused their attention on your chest. They stroked up and down, feeling your areoles and tugging at your nipples, circling around the temperature sensitive nubs with their cold tips. Your nipples quickly became erect, and you unconsciously squirmed in your daze.

It was as if your world narrowed down to only the sensations on your chest. The cold tentacles sent sparks along your nerves into your brain and crotch, igniting a deep desire that set your body aflame. Your mouth hung open as you panted and bucked your hips, rubbing your thighs against each other for more stimulation, and then you came. Like the gently splashing waves in your bathtub, the orgasm washed over you. It was an almost cathartic feeling, as if something hidden deep within you had been quietly unlocked.

When you woke from this more than pleasant dream, the water was already cold. It reminded you of the two tentacles that had rubbed your chest and nipples into an orgasm, and your abdomen couldn’t help tightening with renewed desire. You subconsciously touched the erection between your thighs, and with just that slight bit of pressure, you came again. Your loud moan echoed in the narrow bathroom, back arching and toes curling.

Afterwards, you lay panting in the tub for a while before getting up to empty the bath and take a quick shower. Then you went to bed.

The next few days were very peaceful, only haunted by the occasional sudden nap that came with hazy wet dreams about a bundle of black tentacles roaming all over your body. Other than that, you felt fine. Maybe even better than before.

The same couldn’t be said about your colleagues. It wasn’t only you who felt that the water smelled strange, and strange dream-like experiences weren’t limited to you, either. Multiple people couldn’t deal with the change of smell, to the point where they went to check on the water filtration system only to find nothing. And those dreams were mostly unpleasant, with cold hands groping them, wet kelp entangling their limbs, or something unfathomable and unspeakable staring them down, making them feel unsafe as long as they were underwater.

But the Athena wouldn’t resurface for at least another month. Unless things went terribly haywire, but even then there was no guarantee that this huge submarine would make it back up…

A few days later, just when some people had started getting better — or maybe just used to it — the Athena suddenly shook.

It was like an earthquake. The hull creaked and groaned, the violent shaking making it impossible to stand still, and alarms blared throughout the decks as machines were damaged. People rushed back and forth to take care of their respective responsibilities, you among them, doing your best to reach your lab. Upon opening the door, shards of broken glass flew through the air and cut your protectively raised arms. For some reason, those few drops of blood smelled particularly pungent at this moment.

Disregarding the shards, you went forward to secure the remaining containers and utensils. It wasn’t really useful, but at least it was something to do.

You managed to busy yourself for quite a while, and only poked your head out again when the submarine had stopped shaking.

The Athena was a mess. A slew of items and fragments was scattered throughout the hallways and a few lights were malfunctioning, eerily shining their flickering light on a bunch of crying, wounded, and even some dead people. It was horrifying.

Later, after the Athena had been roughly repaired and the corpses were moved to the morgue, you heard from Flora that the submarine had been attacked by the ocean folk. The people in the cockpit had made eye contact with a hollow-eyed merrow the size of a blue whale, and then huge black tentacles had grabbed the submarine and squeezed it. Considering everything, it was a blessing so many people were still alive.

Of course, not everyone saw it that way.

Until the submarine reached the target location at the bottom of the sea a week later, the mood on board remained depressed. Everyone got their shit together, and the first exploration team got into the shuttle. They returned just an hour later, making the eagerly waiting people assume they’d run into trouble until they saw it—

The merrow.

She had deep green hair, and scales of the same color covering her skin and fishtail. Compared to a human, she was big, but from her features she appeared like a teenager. The reactions brought by her appearance were varied, from fondly remembering their own children to lust and the desire to take her apart, a whole array of emotions displayed before your eyes.

You felt pity. That was, until the laboratory ‘taking care’ of her was slaughtered. The merrow had somehow broken through the thick, bulletproof glass of the tank they kept her in and ensnared them with her song, inducing them to kill each other.

This time, you felt relief. It was good that the ocean folk weren’t helpless against you land dwellers.

Regarding matters of violence, your sympathy towards your kin was truly limited.

The exploration teams regularly took the shuttle out and brought back various ocean folk. After the experience with the merrow, those fishtailed creatures were only brought back dead. If the researchers wanted to observe them in action, they would have to join the exploration teams on the shuttle. Not many were willing to do so, so the daily ‘gifts’ were limited to corpses and unknown creatures found to be too lacking in intellect to be considered a threat.

Then, you got a ‘plant’. It was a cluster of black tentacles resembling a handful of thick seagrass, but you actually recognized them — those tentacles from your dreams. When they sensed you from within the container, they flocked to the glass, pressing themselves almost flat against it just to be closer to you. You felt their excitement and eagerness, and smiled fondly as you looked at them.

Your colleagues just thought you had finally found your fixation. They had no idea that when you remained alone in the lab for ‘overtime’ you actually opened the container. The black tentacles waved happily and crawled out and into your hands. It felt strange to hold them, a tangle of cold and slimy appendages consisting of pure muscle and nothing else.

They hugged your wrists, then started to expand, quickly swelling in size until they were just as big as you remembered. Their touch ignited the fire in your abdomen, and your breathing got rough just from watching them playfully fiddle with your fingers. They must’ve perceived your arousal as they stilled a moment, and then stretched themselves long and flat to make their way beneath your clothes.

You felt them move across your body, spreading all over you in a cold embrace. They curled around your nipples, rubbing and tugging in that familiar way that made your erection press against your underwear within seconds, and made their way further down to your crotch. A few tentacles slipped beneath your foreskin to caress your engorged glans, others wandered along to press against your leaking hole, and then one finally penetrated you.

It explored your insides in a fervent manner, cold slime mixing with your heat, and the moment it grazed a certain spot you came. Your cum squirted over the tentacles and stained your white lab uniform’s pants while you pressed a hand over your mouth, trying your best to muffle your blissful moans.

The tentacle inside you squirmed when you clenched around it. You felt it pulse and swell, and then it discharged its own cold, sticky cum. It was so much it made your belly bulge a little bit, like you’d just eaten something.

A moment later, a second tentacle squeezed itself through your tight entrance into your hole. Some slimy cum dribbled out with this action, and as the tentacles intertwined they expanded within you, stretching you with their girth. And then they started thrusting. Deep, slow thrusts hit your core as they bottomed out, wonderfully sliding in and out of you with the greatest of ease. Tears of ecstasy clouded your eyes as you came again, biting back your cries while a little puddle formed on your seat.

The tentacles were naturally sensitive to your emotions. They crawled up along your spine and swelled a little, wiping away your tears and forcing open your mouth so they could stuff themselves inside. Their tips entangled your tongue, and they trembled when you bit down on them, their trusts turning messy as they shot their cold cum down your throat and into your belly just a second later.

You greedily swallowed the fishy slime. The sound of squelching within you as they messily pounded your hole was intoxicating, and you could feel your stomach stretch from the amount of cum they pumped into you.

They must’ve noticed your stomach, because the next moment, a tentacle pressed down on your belly. Immediately, cum overflowed from your hole and spurted all over your crotch and chair. It thoroughly stained for ass and even some of your pants legs and shoes.

The tentacles froze for a moment, seeming a little stunned. Then you felt them throb. It made you feel like they’d grown even bigger, filling you thoroughly with their presence. They abruptly slammed into you. There was a feeling of desperate fervor as they rammed themselves up your hole, slithering all over your body and almost painfully pulling on your nipples. Slimy cum was pounded frothy and bubbled out, tentacles trembled as you bit down on them, and the fresh cum erupting from them as your hole fluttered with another orgasm nearly made you topple over and fall off your chair.

After two more rounds, you and the tentacles were finally done. All your pent up frustration was vented in the most thrilling way, leaving you in a state of rapture. Your chest heaved as you panted and leaned against the table before you, where the empty container was placed. Looking at that thing, you thought about putting the tentacles back in, but then decided against it. You had a much, much better idea.

Your legs almost gave out beneath you when you got up. Threads of slimy cum connected your ass and chair for a moment, shimmering in the sterile light of the lab.

By the time you reached the lab’s washing station — a shower, actually — you were crawling on your knees because of how badly your thighs kept trembling when you tried to stand. You turned on the water and let it drench your cum-stained clothes, outlining your bulging belly and the black tentacles sticking to your body.

Taking off your clothes took a while. On one hand, it was because of how relaxed you felt after your orgasms, and on the other, it was due to the tentacles. They’d move every now and then, revealing bruised skin or swollen nipples, and they also wriggled inside you. It made you quiver from overstimulation, and yet you still enjoyed it, like it was a proof of your intimate connection.

You calmly labeled yourself as crazy and a hopeless cause that would sooner or later bring doom to the Athena’s crew, and then started carefully peeling the slimy tentacles that had been warmed by your body temperature off of you. The tentacles squirmed, seemingly confused, but they quickly settled down again when you patted them.

With the tentacles out of your hole, just tensing your muscles made the clear cum gush out. It mixed with the water and disappeared down the drain, the flow of it leaving your body almost making you come again.

You took your sweet time washing yourself. Only when your fingers were wrinkly from the water did you turn off the shower and turn your attention back to the cluster of tentacles that was sitting next to you like a little puppy.

The black tentacles had shrank again, appearing exceptionally harmless and cute. You caressed them, picked them up, and then started inserting the small tentacles into your hole one after another. Every time one entered you, you groaned and hummed and rocked your hips, needing to take a break after each one.

The tentacles quickly understood what was happening. They waved happily and then started cooperating with you, eagerly cramming themselves into your warm hole. Their coldness quickly filled you up, accidentally triggering another orgasm and causing your belly to bulge even more than when they’d previously pumped you full of their cum, making you look like you were three or four months pregnant.

After calming down, you contentedly stroked your stomach, then dried yourself and put on a fresh uniform. It hid your distended shape well enough, so you didn’t worry about being found out. Anyway, the Athena crew didn’t have the luxury of caring about what exactly happened in the labs right now.

The stained uniform was dumped down a chute, presumably joining a pile of filthy uniforms that needed to be deep-cleaned before they could ever be worn again. Then you wiped up puddles and trails of slimy cum you’d left in the lab, washed your hands, and left like nothing had happened.

With every step, you felt the tentacles inside you. It made you fight the urge to go for another round right then and there in the hallway, despite already having been fucked raw. Then you caught a whiff of something — sweet and cloying like honey, making you unconsciously swallow as your genitals throbbed.

You quickly pressed a hand over your mouth and nose. You’d discarded your emergency gas mask with your uniform and forgotten to take a new one, only regretting your thoughtlessness at this moment when you really needed it. Cursing whatever was releasing its version of sex pollen, you started looking around and soon found the lab where the disturbing smell was coming from.

And when you found it, you wished you hadn’t even started looking. At this point, who even cared?? But like being witness to a car accident, you found it hard to look away, standing frozen at the entrance where a dented high-security door was just barely hanging onto its frame.

Because in the lab, a fox demon was currently doggy style fucking his swollen red knot into Flora. Both were completely naked, their uniforms lying on the floor, torn to shreds and stained with… water?

You frowned and scanned the room, doing your best not to breathe in more of that disgustingly sweet scent. Your gaze quickly settled on a tank in the lab containing a big mussel. It was open, with a suspiciously low water level, and next to it lay some test tubes and measurement cups still wet with a few drops of water and lip marks…

Ah. They’d drunk the mussel water. And gotten into heat from it. And considering what pollen were, the sweet-smelling stuff in the water that made them go into said heat was most likely the mussel’s sperm.

…okay, maybe it wouldn’t be just your fault that the Athena was doomed.

You unknowingly rubbed your thighs together when your genitals throbbed again, and only then did you realize that you’d somehow made your way over to the tank. The realization that you were just about to drink that stuff made you shiver with dread. Your brain crashed for a few seconds, and then you bolted out of the lab filled with obscene squelching and loud moans down the hallway through the lobby where two orcs were sandwiching a merrow with their fat cocks and back to your own little cabin.

You slammed the door shut, leaning against it as you panted.

Were the ocean folk… no, was the ocean trying to assimilate you? That might explain why after the water started to smell everyone got so horny… but it wasn’t a bad thing… If the continent got flooded anyway, being able to live on underwater was still quite a good deal, no? And you’d even be able to spend the rest of your life with that cluster of black tentacles currently obediently nestled in your hole…

As your thoughts returned to the tentacles, they squirmed as if on cue. The movement triggered a wave of heat, washing over you through your blood and making your swollen genitals twitch with renewed arousal.

Ah right, that heat-inducing mussel water…

You made your way to the bathroom. In the short amount of time it took you to walk over, you’d already started sweating, and your body was suffused with a fierce blush that steamed your brain soft. You barely had the patience to take off your fresh uniform, taking a quick second to thank yourself for not being stupid enough to wear your soaked underwear after being fucked so thoroughly, and then got into the bathtub.

Your genitals pressed against the cold material, and the sensation sent sparks up your spine and elicited a relieved groan from you. Now, in your own cabin, you could be as loud and messy as you wanted.

You reached down to your crotch and prodded your entrance. Your fingers easily slid into your already stretched and dripping with slime hole, touching the warmed tentacles inside. They writhed at your touch, coiling around your fingers and obediently cooperating with getting out of you.

Then they expanded dramatically, so big that it was a challenge for them to fit in the bathtub with you. Every time they moved, they unintentionally yet enticingly brushed against you, each touch stoking the flames of desire burning within you and making you delirious with the intense need to be fucked.

You grabbed a tentacle and desperately ground your hips against it, leaving your leaking fluids all over the slimy appendage. Your hole kept contracting around nothing, like it was gasping, inviting the tentacles back in to fill you, to relentlessly ravage you.

The tentacles wriggled. They coiled around you, hooking around your fingers, entangling your tongue, and pinching your nipples, wrapping you up like they were hiding you. Then a tentacle thicker than your forearm crammed itself into your hole. Your entrance was stretched painfully wide open, yet with the pain came waves of sublime pleasure that made you come the moment it bottomed out.

But it still wasn’t enough.

You bit the tentacle in your mouth and freed a hand to reach for your genitals that were so erect they hurt. You wanted to pull back the foreskin, rub your pulsing glans and torment the engorged tissue beneath—

The tentacles stopped you. They put two tentacles to your disregarded front, telling you with their actions that they would take care of this for you.

As such, everything you wanted was done. The foreskin was pulled back to lay bare your glans that was already peaking out, which was tugged and squeezed, slimy tentacle tips massaging you in an unskilled manner, all the while thrusting into you.

They were doing so much at the same time that your brain overheated and crashed. Engulfed in exhilarating ecstasy, you heard and felt nothing except the tentacles. Like a small boat tumbling between the valleys and peaks of the crashing waves of bliss, you were tossed and groped and pounded by them like a toy. It was a complete loss of control on both of your parts, as if your heat had infected the tentacles, making your hole feel like heaven on earth.

They fucked you for a long time, triggering one orgasm after another and squeezing all the liquid from your body while pumping you full of their cum.

In the end, you were fucked raw once more, overstimulation burning in your genitals. You felt satiated like never before, your stomach heavy with the tentacles' seed making you especially happy. It was just a pity that it kept leaking out…

The tentacles stroked your belly, incidentally causing some more cum to spill and earning themselves a glare from you. But they just affectionately nuzzled your cheek.

Afterwards, bedded on the tentacles, you fell asleep. They held still, not bothering you during your rest.

When you woke up again, the tentacles moved, causing the thick tentacle still plugging your stuffed hole to press against your bladder. You whined and had the tentacles lift you to the toilet, also using the opportunity to empty some of the cum into the bowl.

Then you slowly washed, had the tentacles shrink so they could hide inside you again, got dressed, and made your way to the canteen. It was just… compared to before you went to sleep, things had escalated.

For example, the hallway connecting the researcher’s cabins was filthy with cum. From white to clear, from liquid to sticky and thick, it was smeared onto the walls and doors, had splashed onto the ceiling, and formed large puddles on the floor, densely filling the stagnant air with the obscene smell of vented lust and desires. In one puddle, you even meant to see something wriggle… Fortunately, most of the doors were closed, or the cacophony of snores, moans and screams would’ve been unbearable.

The lobby wasn’t any better. Currently on display was the aftermath of an orgy, naked bodies and all kinds of fluids wherever the eye saw. Apart from your regular colleagues and the Athena’s crew, you also spotted a few limbs belonging to ocean creatures, like the fins or tails of merrows, webbed hands, and some red tentacles, all alive and well.

You smiled happily. It seemed like the land and sea folk were getting along very well!

In the canteen, you didn’t bother anymore to even glance at what everyone was doing. The slapping, squelching and sucking sounds amidst the noise of chewing and cutlery clinking against plated said it all. You turned these things out and queued up to get yourself something to eat.

When the Athena first submerged, the meals offered fully catered to the tastes of the land dwellers. Everything was neatly killed, cleaned, and cooked, seeming especially concerned about the aesthetics when serving them. Now, things were much simpler. One meal consisted of things like a plate of fresh seaweed, jellyfish tentacles and strips of hard white coral, a bowl of saltwater red with the diluted blood of crudely chopped off fish heads, and some roughly descaled fish.

You knew that before, this would have looked utterly disgusting to you, yet now, just looking at it you couldn’t help swallowing your saliva as your stomach growled. It tasted so delicious you ate it all and unexpectedly went back for seconds.

After you had your fill of food, you sauntered out of the canteen and over to the labs. There, the vigorous promotion of a harmonious life between land and ocean dwellers was in full swing. A pair of elven women were riding a fishtailed man’s two cocks, a vampire was spreading his ass cheeks to let a long string of slimy, ping-pong ball sized round eggs shoot out of his hole while cumming, a bunch of hulking orcs were being ravished by colorful tentacles with suckers, nubs, and ridges, a succubus was taking two cocks with their pussy while ramming their dick up a merrow’s cloaca... With things going like this, probably everyone abroad the Athena would come back ashore pregnant, if at all.

...Compared to your colleagues, you were still relatively sane.

You closed your lab’s door behind you and sat down at your desk to record your experiences. From the water smelling strange to the dreams, getting attacked and then encountering the tentacles and being fucked by them, everything was neatly written down. After a moment of thought, you also noted what happened to your colleagues, your guess of why that was, and your hypothesis that the strange-smelling water and water copulating with the ocean dwellers would assimilate one and allow a fully assimilated being to live underwater henceforth.

Rereading your log, you corrected a few spelling and grammar errors before finally nodding with satisfaction. The entry was saved, sent to some addresses you trusted, and then closed.

From now on, you’d focus on your life with the tentacles.

The tentacles wriggled on cue. A moan escaped your lips and echoed slightly in the empty lab, and the chair beneath you creaking as you rocked your hips.

There was a sound of tearing clothes when the tentacles got out of you and expanded. They teased your fragile neck and slithered into your mouth, entangled your limbs and spread your legs wide open to present yourself to them, unusually hot as they caressed your eagerly waiting hole and plunged in.

The heat was like a spark springing over to you, igniting an almost violent desire that had been engraved into your bones during your contact with them. A few thrusts in, not even bottomed out yet, your hole was already fluttering around the tentacles. Your thighs trembled, your toes curled, and your erect genitals twitched as you came, an enthralling fire burning through your veins and coming together at your core.

Then the tentacles bottomed out. They repeatedly thrust against a certain spot at your core, where the fire burned especially intensely, even holding back on cumming for long enough that you came two more times before finally shooting their cum against that spot. It was like a concentrated stream of water, powerful and thrilling, as if it could bore an extra hole into you.

And then you felt it. One of the tentacles poked at that spot they’d targeted, massaging it, and then it sank in.

You moaned at the sensation. It was so much tighter than your already well-used hole, burning with anticipation, making you aware of a new part within you. That one tentacle slowly thrust with the others, only it penetrating deep into your core. This time, you came with them together the moment their cum gushed into that space they had opened up within you. You bit down on the tentacles in your mouth and your eyes rolled with pleasure. It filled you so well, it made your belly bulge so nicely, it felt as if it would never get out...

The tentacles completely retreated from your hole, leaving you feeling uncomfortably empty. Your gaping hole dripped with slime, yet nothing left your core. Satisfaction spread between you and the tentacles, and they also conveyed a sense of eager anticipation and barely restrained fervor.

You reassured them; you wanted this just as much as them.

The tentacles throbbed and squirmed, squelching as they rubbed against each other, and then a shorter, more slender tentacle was extended from their core. It fit snugly in your hole, though it still left room for another one to squeeze in. But that wasn’t necessary now. That tentacle penetrated the hole they’d opened up within your core, making your ass rest firmly against their center, and bottomed out with that.

The tentacles brushed against your nipples as they thrust. They tugged and groped as they always did, more fervent than ever, and even somewhat desperate. You felt good, not enough to make you come, but you still clenched around their length.

It didn’t take long for them to come. That single tentacle's throbs shook the entire cluster, twitching and thrashing so much it swept your desk clean with a loud crash. Then the base of that tentacle bulged.

The next moment, something firm and round contained within prodded your hole. One was pushed past the entrance, then a second, then a third, and then you lost count as they made their way up your channel. They pressed against your core and were forced into that opened space, eliciting endless moans and groans and meaningless murmurs from you, and when the first one dropped into you, you came. You didn’t stop coming as string upon string of eggs was pumped into you, the weight so comforting and enrapturing, the way your belly bulged and was eventually distended not letting you come down from your climax for even a second.

After an unknown amount of time, the tentacle went limp and slipped out. Immediately after, just as you’d caught your breath, the eggs that hadn’t made it into your core and were clogging up your hole shot out. The sleek, round things felt wonderful against your walls and entrance, wracking your exhausted body with orgasm after orgasm.

Held by the tentacles stroking your heavy stomach, your brain felt like it had been pounded to mush by them. Not a single thought could form as all space was taken up by the sublime pleasure of being bred by the tentacles, and the endless amount of joyful anticipation you held for bearing their offspring.

Because once they were out, you could do it all over again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Until you broke.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (II)

The two yokai men reach an agreement and you begin your journey together, searching for clues regarding the mysterious case of your incomplete reincarnation. You learn about the third of the Legendary Yokai, a gargantuan monster worshipped in times of war.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

The next swish of the mysterious man's sword is parred by Kiritsubo, who managed to make his way to you in time.

"Wait! It's not entirely him, Murasaki, I can explain!" He shouts frantically.

"So you let him live. This is why you've never been good for anything." The dark haired man snarls in a low voice, disgust seeping through his sharp teeth.

It becomes obvious rather quickly that he has the advantage in terms of battle experience. You can only stare in fear, stuffing your wound with your jacket sleeve. What else can you do? You're bleeding profusely and if a demon of Kiritsubo's stature cannot compete, you'd be even less helpful.

"Listen to him, man, I genuinely don't know anything about your master!" You beg as your limbs are flooded with a prickling sensation. They're slowly going numb. "Please. I just want to go home."

Damn it. You have no idea whether the bleeding will stop anytime soon. Is this how you die? You won't even get a proper burial. Even worse, your family will live on thinking you vanished without a trace, unaware you've been stabbed to death by a crazy jackass in feudal Japan. You wish you could make them stop.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to think of a way to escape, when you hear both men groan in pain. You look ahead to see them on the ground, clinging tightly to their chests, faces twisted in a grimace. Huh? They couldn't have killed each other in the few seconds they were out of your view. What is going on?

After a few agonizing moments, the yokai seem to calm down. Kiritsubo is gasping for air, clumsily pulling himself back up. Murasaki remains on the grass, forcing himself to appear collected despite the cold sweat coating his forehead.

"That's...what...I...meant..." The silver haired demon groans between hitched breaths. "Whew. You see it now, don't you? She doesn't emanate enough power to pull this off. It's coming from somewhere else."

Murasaki clicks his tongue in visible annoyance.

"So then, what do you suggest?"

"I don't know. But something is stopping you from killing her and there's a chance she's connected to the source."

"What are you guys whispering about?" You inquire, crawling closer towards the horned men. "And why did you suddenly collapse? You scared the hell out of me!"

"You didn't feel anything?" Kiritsubo questions you with raised eyebrows.

"Besides the, I don't know, stab wound? No, thankfully." You respond sarcastically.

Without a word, Murasaki stands up and approaches you. He crouches down to your level and nonchalantly slaps your hand away from your shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Have you ever tended to a wound in your life? You're shit at it." He uses his sword to cut off your sleeve and folds it over your gash with calculated movements. You hiss at the pain and glare at him. "Bite down on a stick if you can't handle it. Better than being dead."

The white haired yokai flashes you an awkward but reassuring smile.

"He might be an ass about it, but he knows what he's doing."

"Why are you helping me, anyways?" you point out, somewhat wary. "You literally tried to kill me a moment ago."

"I changed my mind. You'll help us find the damned bastard or whatever it is he's using to control us."

"What, the priest? Hell no, I'm going back to my world. I've had enough action for the rest of my life."

Murasaki finishes bandaging you and gives you one final press, almost as if messing with you, and you wince. He stands up and slides his sword back in its sheath.

"If you focus a little, you will find there was no question or request in my words. I'm not negotiating with a weakling like you."

Kiritsubo squats down before you and claps his hand together, pleadingly.

"Please think about it, (Y/N). I know you don't owe us anything, but there's a chance we could finally break the seal and be free. If you'd consider helping us. You can walk away, but that won't change the fact you're part of Abe no Nakamaro. He will want his powers back at some point, and we can protect you when the time comes."

You cross your arms and frown thoughtfully, pondering the options. He did save you twice already. So in a way, you're indebted to him. And if he's right, and you will have to deal with more crazy encounters in the future, it's probably better to have two powerful demons by your side.

"Alright, alright. I'll help you." You exclaim with a confident nod.

Kiritsubo grins, satisfied, and Murasaki huffs and looks away. There's a prolonged silence as you wait for them to continue with further instructions, but the men remain quiet.

"So...what now?" you eventually speak up.

"Oh. I thought you knew where to go next." the silver haired man retorts, confused.

"Idiot. She's not a compass." Murasaki scolds him. "Can you stand?" He adds, turning to you. "There's a shrine a few kilometers away that belonged to him. If we leave now, we should make it before sunset. Maybe we can find something there."

You try to prop yourself up, but Kiritsubo promptly scoops you with his sinewy arm and throws you on his back again.

"I'll carry you. Just hold on."

A faint blush dusts your cheeks, but you don't have the energy to argue it. You clutch onto his broad shoulders and nod.

The walk is uneventful and both yokai seem to be distracted. The gentle swaying is causing you to be more comfortable than you'd like to admit and your eyelids become heavy with exhaustion. Before you know it, your head drops against the toned back and you fall asleep.

By the time you open your eyes again, you've already reached your destination. You yawn and stretch, lazily scanning the surroundings. A heavy shadow looms over you and you glance up. Still groggy from your nap, you scream before you can fully process the object towering above.

It's a statue. A colossal statue of some sort of monster. A demon with thick, wide bull horns sprawling out imposingly, almost eclipsing the ridiculously muscular build. The creature has four arms, flexed in a threatening manner, with one hand gripping a heavy spear and the other a skull. The crimson light of the sunset creeps through the windows and reflects against the chiseled clay, giving the statue a devilish glow. You feel insignificant.

"That's Suma."

"W-what?" your head tilts to Kiritsubo.

"He's one of us. You might meet him soon, if he's been alerted of your presence. This is a shrine built for him, to bring good fortune during times of war."

You cannot help but gawk at the structure.

"Is it, uh, life sized?"

"Heh, almost. He's a little taller than this." He chuckles, slightly nostalgic.

You swallow dryly. Just a moment ago you thought Kiritsubo was unusually big.

"I'd rather not meet him, to be honest." You shiver at the idea.

"Don't worry about it. Now that Murasaki has joined us, you're pretty much safe from anything. He's the strongest of us." The yokai remarks with a sad smile.

"Really?"

You peek at the dark haired man, currently flipping through dusty manuscripts, and briefly observe him. Compared to Kiritsubo, he's quite slender, with noble, elegant features. And he'd be able to defeat this enormous beast? Then again, the glimpse you've caught of his swordsmanship is enough of a convincing argument.

What a bizarre gathering of creatures beyond your understanding.

You remember to look away when Murasaki grunts and throws the remaining scroll of paper. His lips form a thin line as he rakes his mind for the next step.

"Nothing here. But I'm rather certain he has to be at one of his hideouts. We'll check each and one of them if we have to." 

"Wait, are you saying he's still alive? We saw his body before Sekiya and Sakaki took him for the embalming and burial."

Murasaki scoffs at his partner's gullible nature.

"And you believed it? That parasite spent his entire life searching for ways to prolong his reign. He's probably hiding somewhere, waiting for his renewed part of the soul to return to him." 

He rests against the wall and points a clawed finger at you. 

"This must've been his solution. Releasing his remaining energy until it found a proper vessel to grow stronger, and patiently awaiting the body swap. Then we go back to being whipped dogs fulfilling his whims."

It's your turn to be outraged, twisting your mouth downwards.

"No way, I'll pound that old man into sand!" You bark and throw a jab against the air, emphasizing your threat. "As if I'd just hand myself over."

"I'm not sure if it'll be that easy, (Y/N)..." Kiritsubo glances at you with a hurt expression. "He's a terrifying, vengeful bastard."

"Not if we find him first and take him out." Murasaki counters with a glint of determination in his eyes. "Humans need to rest, don't they? We'll spend the night here and tomorrow we head out. Kiritsubo, find me a map so we can keep track of the locations. I'll bring the wood for a fire."

And with this, he marches out. Kiritsubo scurries to his duty and you quietly follow his movements. He seems to be used to executing Murasaki's orders. You hadn't considered their group dynamic much, but it appears to have some rather complex hierarchies involved. You almost wish you could witness all of them together, wondering how they'd interact with each other. 

Who knows? If you stick around, it could happen eventually. Murasaki was surprisingly easy to convince, so the other yokai might as well agree to keep you alive until you find their source of misfortune. Heh. Almost like a harem, or something. You snicker to yourself.

Which reminds you...

The fire has been lit and Murasaki mumbles something about guarding the perimeter. This time you hurry outside after him. You reach out to the dark haired man and pull on his kimono sleeve.

He turns to you, mildly irked.

"What?"

"Teach me how to use a sword." You state with the assertiveness of an order.

"Why? I can assure you I'm more than enough. I've never been defeated." He stares at you, incredulous.

"I don't want to rely on you all the time. You're already this close to being unbearable", you explain, pinching your fingers together. "Besides, if I'm going to be stuck among beasts, I'd very much prefer being the one doing the cool stuff."

And with that, you pretend to slice through an invisible enemy, whistling the sound of your sword cutting through the air. You furrow your eyebrows, imitating the engrossed expression of a seasoned samurai in the middle of a battleground. Murasaki quickly lifts a hand to his mouth - did he chuckle just now? - and responds, the faintest amusement in his voice:

"As you wish. But I'm warning you now, I won't hold back."

"I've been injured twice in less than 24 hours, I'm sturdy enough." You answer, patting your chest proudly.

Next time one of the Legendary Yokai comes for you, you won't be as vulnerable. That's for sure.

[fairyhaos]

yeoubi. // TEASER

여우비 (yeo-u-bi) : noun. literally “fox rain” — when sunlight filters through rainfall, creating a golden shower.

PAIRING : vernon x f!reader

INFO : east asian historical fantasy(ish. i kinda made up my own mythology), fox demon!vernon, silver!vernon, immortal!witch!yn, fluff, magic, strangers to lovers

TEASER WORD COUNT : 1.1k (full fic ~15k)

FIC WARNINGS : blood mention, injuries, slight discrimination against yokai, cursing

SYNOPSIS : living as a magic, immortal healer in a rural, human mountain village means most of your existence has been rather peaceful. that is, until one cold winter when an injured yokai stumbles into your life; and though everyone else is terrified of him, you take him in, nurse him back to health, and show the others that some demons aren’t that scary after all. (...and maybe, just maybe, you end up falling for the pretty fox yokai too.)

NOTES : for the @camandemstudios winter with you collab! send an ask or reply down below to be put on the taglist, or sign up for the full collab taglist here <3

Some minutes later, as you’re sitting on a log on the path to catch your breath, Hansol comes back down the mountain to meet you, settling down by your side.

“It’s so quiet,” he whispers. The air around you is lit with a faint glow, courtesy of a visibility spell you conjured so you wouldn’t fall flat on your face as you walked. It makes Hansol’s face look golden as he smiles at you, eyes shining. “Everything is so quiet out here. I can hear the animals.”

You smile back, finding joy in how relaxed he looks. “Doesn’t that make it noisy?”

Hansol shakes his head, and then looks away from you, ears cocked to the side, listening. “No. This is like a familiar buzz of noise, so familiar that it becomes silent.” He looks back at you again, smiling. “Down in the village, it’s so noisy because of all the people, but up here, it’s all gone.”

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” you say with a smile, and Hansol nods so quickly that you laugh, endeared. “I’m glad. You can go off for a bit, if you want, and I’ll wait for you here.”

Hansol beams. “Okay.”

And like that, he’s off, nothing more than a faint swish of a silver tail before he disappears once more.

He doesn’t come back to you for some time, not until the weak sunrise begins to peek its head above the horizon. You’re not too worried, though: somehow, you know that he will come back to you, though you can’t find ears nor tail of him while he’s gone.

It’s incredible how much you’ve come to trust and believe in Hansol, though he’s only been with you for several weeks. But even though he’s been so reserved, anxious and afraid at times, it’s clear how earnest and gentle he is, and something in your chest tightens and then relaxes with happiness whenever you see him smile. He’s just so—genuine, and you really like that about him.

There’s a rustle in the evergreen bushes to your left, and his silver head of hair pops out, golden eyes shining when he sees you.

“Hey,” you greet, the moment you see his face. “Are you gonna come over?”

Instantly, he stands up, hops over the bush and makes his way over to you. His footfalls are light, looking like he’s dancing over the snow before he settles next to you once more, looking like he never left your side.

“Hey,” he says. “There are so many rabbits in these mountains, you know? Like I’ve never seen so many rabbits gathered in one place before, because normally they get killed by hunters or there’s just not enough food in that area to sustain so many. It’s actually insane how many rabbits you have up here.” When you just smile, his eyes widen, ears pricking upright. “Oh, is it you? Do you do something to help them stay alive? With your magic and all that?”

Hansol then launches into a flurry of questions for you, so eager and animated that it surprises you a little, before melting your heart.

You’re no longer surrounding yourself with the visibility light, but Hansol is still glowing, looking so alive with cold-dusted cheeks, shining eyes, wind-fluffed hair and the frost dusting the tip of his nose, which must have accidentally happened when he’d gotten too excited and lost control of his magic.

Hansol’s positively lit up, now he’s surrounded by all this nature. He must’ve been so cooped up and nervous before, when he was just in your house, barely anything to do. Now he’s healed, and outside, and you can tell that being out of the house is where he’s meant to be.

“It’s not me,” you admit after Hansol’s finished conjuring up crazy theories. “Well, kind of. I messed around with the mountains about eighty years ago and did something by accident so we get a lot more winter flowers than normal. The rabbits love eating them, so we get a lot of them too.”

“Oh,” Hansol says, amazed. “That makes so much sense. I saw so many flowers. I thought that was a little bit weird, but I just chalked it up to Mother Nature having fun, or something.”

You laugh. “Yeah. I guess Mother Nature was having fun,” you say, gesturing to yourself, and Hansol grins too. His eyes crinkle as he does so, pearly white fully visible, and goodness, even his big, bright smile is as cute as he is. You’ve never seen him smile this widely before. It’s… pretty.

Even though he’s all warmed up to you now, even though it’s clear he trusts you, it’s obvious he’ll always be most at peace out here in the big, wide world.

His gaze slides away from yours, looking at something behind you, and he gasps.

“What is it?” You turn to look back, trying to find what had caught his eye, but Hansol doesn’t respond. He jumps up, diving into the bushes without a word.

A moment later he emerges, and in his hands is…

“A daffodil?” you say, amazed. “What’s this doing here? Spring is very, very far off.”

“I guess it’s because of you,” Hansol says, handing you the flower. 

You accept it gratefully, tracing the edges of its buttery yellow petals, such a warm, golden colour in your hands, in stark contrast to the cold white of the snow around you. It’s so pretty, so pristine, and it’s amazing it managed to survive in the freezing winter temperatures. Must be due to your magic, like Hansol said.

“It looks like you,” Hansol says suddenly, and you look at him in surprise. 

“Really? How?”

“You look like spring, to me,” he says. The frosted tip of his nose looks pink, as do his cheeks. A decidedly warmer, blushier pink than they’d looked before. “All warm and gold and pretty. Like the daffodil. And I…” He pauses, and then seems to change his mind, shutting his mouth and blinking at you like he wasn’t about to say anything else.

You smile, so endeared that you’re practically glowing with it. “Thank you,” you say, touched, and look back down at the daffodil in your hands before raising your eyes to the definitely-blushing yokai once more. “That’s so sweet.”

Hansol shrugs, a little bashful, before standing up abruptly.

“I’m gonna go find the rabbits again,” he says, and before you can even reply, he’s disappeared.

You laugh, breathing in the crisp air and then releasing it in a sigh, feeling warm all over despite the cold. You shake your head, fond. Hansol is just so…

Goodness. What are you going to do with him?

[darksilvania]

FUDDIMUDDI (Poison/Water)

Third bonded pokemon, this time the pokemon is a MUK who wanted to become clean

Before anyone says anything, yes, the shiny colors are barely noticeable, I have made many shiny pokemon before with very distinctive color differences from its regular forms, it was time I made one of those where the difference is barely noticeable, it was neccesary.

It is based on the Umibōzu, a Yokai whose name translates as "Sea Monk" and the chain is placed in its hand to resemble the praying beads that buddhist monks carry

[astra-ravana]

Japanese Magick

Japanese spirituality and folk magick are deeply rooted in Shinto, Buddhism, and indigenous traditions that blend animism, kami (spirits), and ritual practices. While Japan does not have a historical "witchcraft" tradition in the Western sense, it has a rich magickal heritage that includes onmyodo (esoteric cosmology), shugendo (mountain asceticism), folk magick, and spiritual practices passed down through generations.

So, let's explore the key elements of Japanese witchcraft and magick, including history, deities and spirits, traditional magickal practices, and how modern practitioners integrate these elements into their craft.

Foundations of Japanese Magick

🏮Shinto (神道) – The Way of the Kami

Shinto is the indigenous spiritual tradition of Japan, centered on reverence for kami (divine spirits) found in nature, ancestors, and sacred places. Many Japanese magickal practices stem from Shinto beliefs and rituals.

Key Concepts in Shinto Magick:

• Kami (神) – Spirits or deities that inhabit all things, including trees, mountains, rivers, and animals.

• Purification (禊 Misogi & 祓 Harai) – Cleansing oneself or a space of impurities before engaging in spiritual work.

• Offerings (供え物) – Giving food, incense, or prayers to kami and spirits to seek blessings or protection.

• Omamori (お守り) – Charms that provide luck, protection, and blessings.

🏮Onmyodo (陰陽道) – The Way of Yin-Yang

Onmyodo is an ancient system of esoteric cosmology and divination based on Taoist principles of yin-yang and the five elements. Practitioners, known as onmyōji (陰陽師), were skilled in astrology, geomancy, exorcism, and protective magick.

Onmyodo Magick Includes:

• Divination (卜占) – Fortune-telling using astrology, geomancy, or sacred texts.

• Talismans (護符 Gofu / Ofuda) – Paper or wooden charms inscribed with sacred symbols or prayers for protection.

• Spirit Banishing (鬼払い Oni-barai) – Rituals to remove negative spirits and influences.

• Elemental Magic (五行 Gogyō) – The Five Elements (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) used for balance and spellwork.

🏮Shugendo (修験道) – Mountain Asceticism

Shugendo is a mystical tradition that blends Shinto, Buddhism, and Taoism. Its practitioners, known as yamabushi (山伏), are mountain monks who engage in spiritual endurance training, chanting, and nature-based magick.

Shugendo Magical Practices:

• Nature-Based Rituals – Using waterfalls, mountains, and caves for spiritual cleansing and empowerment.

• Firewalking (火渡り Hi-watari) – Walking over fire as a purification ritual.

• Mantra Chanting (真言 Shingon) – Reciting sacred phrases to invoke deities and spirits.

Key Deities and Spirits in Japanese Witchcraft

🏮Major Kami Associated with Magick:

• Inari Okami (稲荷大神) – Kami of prosperity, agriculture, and fox spirits (kitsune). Often invoked for abundance and transformation magick.

• Tsukuyomi (月読命) – Moon deity, associated with night magick, divination, and intuition.

• Ame-no-Uzume (天宇受売命) – Goddess of dawn, joy, and ritual dance. Invoked for creativity and uplifting energy.

• Raijin & Fujin (雷神・風神) – Thunder and wind gods, called upon for storm magick and elemental work.

• Susanoo-no-Mikoto (須佐之男命) – Kami of storms, exorcism, and warrior energy.

🏮Yokai (妖怪) & Spirit Beings:

Japanese folklore is filled with supernatural creatures, some of which play a role in magick:

• Kitsune (狐) – Fox spirits associated with transformation, illusion, and trickery.

• Tengu (天狗) – Mountain spirits and warriors with powerful knowledge of magick and martial arts.

• Yurei (幽霊) – Ghosts and ancestral spirits that may require appeasement or exorcism.

Traditional Japanese Magickal Practices

🏮Divination & Fortune-Telling:

• Omikuji (おみくじ) – Paper fortunes drawn at shrines to reveal one's luck.

• I Ching (易経 Ekikyō) – Taoist divination practice adopted in Japan.

• Tenmon (天文) – Japanese astrology, used by onmyōji for predicting fate and auspicious times.

🏮Talisman & Charm Magick:

• Omamori (お守り) – Protective charms bought from shrines, charged with blessings from kami.

• Ofuda (御札) – Paper talismans often hung in homes for protection.

• Shide (紙垂) – Zigzag-shaped paper strips used in purification and shrine rituals.

🏮Protection & Banishing Spells

• Salt Purification (塩清め Shio-kiyome) – Sprinkling salt around spaces to remove negativity.

• Oni-barai (鬼払い) – Banishing rituals to drive away malevolent spirits.

• Suzu (鈴) – Small bells used to ward off bad spirits.

🏮Elemental & Nature Magick

• Waterfall Purification (滝行 Takigyo) – Ritual bathing in waterfalls to cleanse the spirit.

• Moon Rituals (月の魔法 Tsuki no Maho) – Working with lunar phases for manifestation and divination.

• Kitsune Magick – Calling upon fox spirits for wisdom, transformation, and trickster energy.

Modern Japanese Witchcraft & Contemporary Practices

While Japan does not have a strong tradition of "witchcraft" as seen in the West, modern witches and spiritual practitioners integrate traditional elements into their craft.

🏮Ways to Practice Japanese-Inspired Magick Today:

• Shrine Visits – Offering prayers and petitions to kami.

• Japanese Herbal Magick – Using plants like mugwort (ヨモギ yomogi) for protection and cleansing.

• Tea Rituals – Preparing and blessing tea with intentions for peace, health, and wisdom.

• Shinto-Inspired Spellwork – Creating small home altars (kamidana) for divine guidance.

• Combining Onmyodo with Western Practices – Blending astrology, talisman magic, and elemental balancing with modern witchcraft.

Japanese magick is deeply connected to nature, spirits, and ancestral traditions. While Japan does not have a direct equivalent to Western witchcraft, its spiritual and folk practices offer rich ways to work with energy, divination, and protection magick. Whether you are drawn to Shinto nature worship, onmyodo divination, or spirit work with yokai, Japanese magickal traditions provide a fascinating and profound path for spiritual exploration.

[quarterlifekitty]

Another installation of the MonsterHunter!AU

Context: a baku is a demon/yokai that eats bad dreams. It has a lot of depictions, often in modern times its design is loosely based on the Malayan tapir. So I picture reader as being a tapir girl, with the cute ears, and some teeny tusks. And that really cute mottling that baby tapirs have bc it’s my post and I do what I want. But she can look however you like, really.

While Price often takes killing bounties, Ghost is a bit less picky. He doesn’t mind capturing monsters alive and delivering them to the highest bidder.

Lately, there’s been a trend amount the local nobles. Get a baku, and it will eat your child’s bad dreams, they say. So demand is high. These people don’t know that a baku can also eat your hopes and ambitions if it isn’t well fed on nightmares, but Ghost doesn’t really care to inform them.

It was supposed to be a quick and easy job— be back before dinner. But things often don’t go to plan in this line of work. If you can manage to find a baku, capture is easy. They don’t have a means of really defending themselves, and they’re docile by nature. Ghost doesn’t realize how attractive such a thing is to other bounty hunters.

He doesn’t even tie your hands when he finds you. Baku are not stupid. You know he’s faster and stronger than you are. The rival bounty hunters throwing a weighted net over you don’t realize this.

He spends half the day taking them down one by one as you’re dragged behind them in the forest. Not enough time to travel back to the guild, he has to camp out. Ghost uses his knife to cut you loose. Out of precaution, he draws his symbol on your back with a prick of his blood so you’ll be bound to his vicinity. But he doesn’t see the sense in keeping you cramped in the net.

He manages to forget what you are when he gets to sleep. You amble to his side when he starts to thrash with the visions of dead heaped up across the landscape. You sigh, gently planting a hand on his chest and coaxing the vapor of his dreams from him.

It’s the best you’ve had. So addicting you follow the plume straight to his mouth, kissing him through the cloth of his mask. It tastes of glistening red, of a brittle splintering husk, like ichor pouring from the wound of a god.

Simon startles when he awakes and sees the position of the sun in the sky. Much later than he’s risen in years. And he slept through the night, entirely uninterrupted, which is completely unheard of.

And he feels like a fucking new man. The light of the sun doesn’t feel like punishment against his skin, piercing beneath the thin membrane of his eyelids. He feels light. Packs up camp, nearly overflowing with energy,

You smile at him, flicking your little tapir ears. You look good, too. Healthy, shining hair and bright eyes. Strangely pretty, for a dream demon. You follow him closely without much provocation when he decides it’s time to get going.

He thinks about forgoing the bounty. His sigil fades from your back, falling in rusted flakes from the large white patch of your two-toned fur. He’ll get something more permanent for you when you’re back at the guild. He’s certain he has enough nightmares to keep you fed for the rest of his life.

[bowandbrush]

A sketch of the blue trio!!

An animatic idea I have for the maskface AU (that I have no time to actually start on 😭)

cowboy episode! Leo gets to hang out with some non-brother pals, and boy is it chaotic. (I’m gonna rant the general story below)

Mystic energy throughout the US is fluctuating and causing mini-earthquakes and vibrations that not only start momentarily irritating dogs/animals, but disrupt cloaking brooches and other mystic areas like nether realms, force fields, and invisibility cloaks. hueso’s hidden restaurant and passages to the hidden city are slowly being revealed, which is a huge problem.

The secondary story is with Frida, actually. being Big Mama’s daughter, she has since abandoned her high position in the Battle Nexus and as mama’s number two to be with her blood family.

In the first couple weeks of Venus temporarily living with the hamatos as a spy for Mama, Frida watches through a mystic orb longingly, observing the cold assistant Venus soften and learn what friendship, love and family is about. She grows to love the Mad Dogs with each day, and decides to flee from her life with Big Mama.

Unlike Venus (who’s still undercover, but losing her will to fulfill her mission and return to B.M.) she hated the spider for years behind a facade. Despite acting the most like Mama out of anyone, She was given enough freedom in her teen years to discover Big Mama didn’t mean anything she said.

now she’s showing her brothers and human sister on how to have a proper spa day. Raph is loving the his retirement from leadership.

Leo, Venus and Usagi portal just in time to where the source of the problem seems to be, Texas. With Donnie communicating through Leo’s wrist comm to help him navigate and uncover the issue. Leo’s portals now being nearly useless with the mystic quakes, this gives the trio the prefect excuse to dress like cowboys and wrangle some horses.

Leo is very sure of himself. He helped hueso charm a bird before, right? Wrong. The horse drags him about with the rope Leo tried throwing over its head. Much to his dismay. He loves ponies.

Venus approaches a different horse. She has this in the bag. Unlike Leo, who is a self-assured idiot. With a straight face, she’s got this handled. Also Wrong! Now there are two turtles being thrown around.

Usagi tries befriending a horse by sharing a love for carrots. Sure enough, they all love him. He’s just a natural animal charmer.

this whole adventure is really distracting Venus from her real mission established about 2 months ago. She doesn’t even want to go back to wearing 10 pounds of armor, being forced into things she doesn’t want to do or wear, and guarding empty hallways for days at a time.

And she forgot how much she hated Leo when she first knew him. Some arrogant, annoying reflection of what draxum really wanted in a super soldier that she couldn’t give to him as a yokai child. But now she couldn’t love Leo any more. It was making her sick.

later on, they discover an illegal oil rig operation going down, drilling into a mystic hotspot that is causing the whole ruckus. They use the power of friendship and stupidity to stop the bad guys and fix the mystic conundrum.

That’s basically the episode.

[amf-studios]

I made some evolutions for yokai decided by reddit!

First up was suggested by u/King-of_turtles with eleven upvotes was USApyon. Now, I've done an alternative form for USApyon before, which leaned into his sith lord/Darth Vader inspiration. So this time, I took a different route:

Pod Racer engines, baby! I've loved the look of those things since playing the lego star wars video game when I was a little girl. And they make sick as hell arm cannons!

Upgraded with the latest space tech, NASApyon is going to the moon, and nothing in heaven, hell or any other realm is gonna stop him!

He's now an S rank, ice attribute of the Shady tribe. His new soultimate is: Bunny Barrage, where he launches a storm of lasers at his opponents

Next up, suggested by u/AsterMachina was Buhu!

Call it a basic take, but I turned the goose into a sad swan! Admittedly Buhu is a pretty basic yokai in concept, so I mostly just made the Evo, I just made her "Buhu but more"

Hence the name; Buhu-hu! I like to imagine that Buhu-hu is a yokai of silver linings. Her inspiritments cause misfortune to befall her victims, however at the end, it will be offset with small burst of good luck, before returning to normal.

Buhu-hu is a C rank of the Eerie tribe. She is a wind attribute, and has the soultimate; Fowl Fortune, which debuffs her enemies, making them less likely to act.

And finally, from u/JibakomaYTB was House Partay!

For this one, I pulled out a special item of mine that I'm sure you didn't expect to see again~ the tricksters treat! Giving him a real spooky makeover!

(Speaking of, I've been debating making the Halloween yokai that come from the trickster's treat its own "class," like classic or Merican yokai. I'm open to thoughts on that!)

Now, as large as a real house, Howls Partay can bring the party even all across town! Design wise he's directly inspired by the spooky mansion that hosts the Poltz mini game! (Which has an awesome spooky song~!)

Howls Party is an A rank of the mysterious tribe. He's a fire attribute, with the soultimate move; "bring down the house!" Where he body slams his opponents.

I hope you enjoy these evolutions, and if you do, I take commissions! Details on my tumblr!

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ FLUIDITY

tw. dubcon, monsterfucking, explicit size kink, interspecies sex, reader has sex pollen like effects, communication barrier, manipulation, yandere (other parts will contain a lot more explicit dark kinks so please read every individual part's warnings!) wordcount. 8.7k

part 1 of —

a/n. ♡♡ thank you so much rhi for keeping me going through this, idk if i would have pushed through if not for you so ily ily ily and this fic is just indulgence as a period piece and a monsterfucking fic but i hope you give it a chance and like it bc there's moresomes a-coming and this is just the beginning so! yeA i hope you guys enjoy mwuah mwuah mwuah ♡♡

tachibana makoto x fem!reader ( x other characters coming)

Dragonflies glint the prettiest, richest silver you’ve ever seen under the right light. The rosy evening sun casts the entire river into a blooming glow— complete with a soft blanket of fog that rolls along the base of the trees. “Your maiden servants worry about you, you know,” a voice softly calls, and the rustle of shrubbery makes you turn.

You don’t really want to know how long the man’s been guarding you without a word. If it were anyone but one of your father’s most trusted men, you’d probably have some distrust. Instead you only pull your knees to your chest, and continue tossing rocks into the babbling brook.

“Lady, it’ll get dark soon. Your parents don’t want you playing out here so late.”

The small area isn’t open enough to lure any visitors. You’d be fine. Still, you slowly bob your head, waiting for him to step away from the tree edge into the river bank with you. “I had a weird dream, only it didn’t feel like a dream.” The reeds sway in the wind, and you almost let the perfect surrounding whisk away the thought. But the man’s hand drops from his sword, and he gives the faintest of nods. “There was a monster here when I fell asleep— one with a huge mouth packed full of teeth. I saw eyes in the water, and hair so long it covered its whole body.” The tart remnants of your delicately applied makeup wash away as you swallow. “I think- it was a yokai.”

“There’s no yokai here, lady,” he patiently responds, and you turn to him better. This time taking a proper look. If the damp hair tied in a bun is anything to go off of, he was most likely called out of his bath to come out looking for you. You bite your lip, apology lingering on your tongue. But that’s where it stays, as the man continues. “There’s monsters only where people don’t go. You needn’t worry.”

“Are you comforting me?” A slight giggle passes your lips before you can help it. “I know you think I’m lying. You don’t believe anything you don’t see with your own eyes.”

“... It’s not for a lack of trying.” He smooths a hand over his hakama, before resting it back on the pristine handle of his sword. The dragonflies buzz over the low edge of the water, and your feet ache a little from the cold. You’d love to ask to be carried right about now, but spare the poor man the effort. It’s the least you can do. After another few minutes of silence and watching the sun disappear entirely below the tree line, he finally clears his voice. “Come on, lady. We should really get back. You’re precious to your parents. You’re precious to us all. I can’t leave you here.”

This river runs from the high mountains all the way through the small lake that borders the gates of your home; and all the way down the lowlands— and it’s said that on the day of your birth the river flooded, and provided the most bountiful harvest of the last few decades. Even as a child, there was no ignoring the gleeful whispering of the ladies, nor the calculated introductions of sons of poorer lords at every birthday or feast. Some day not too long from now you will get married and spread providence over the land… and there won’t be time for napping by rivers or running off half-dressed into the forest.

Somehow, despite the honor, a small part of you goes cold at that. The water glistens under the last of the light— and you take a long look into the deep of it. The eyes the color of hot coals flash through your mind once more, and you start pulling the fabrics of your dresses aside to put your zori back on. “I know it was a monster- but-” The wind picks up when you turn over your shoulder and smile your most genuine smile. “I wasn’t scared, I think. Perhaps it was friendly.”

The guard is quiet as he watches you get up from the riverbank, and sticks a comfortable distance after helping you gently up onto your feet. You suppose he doesn’t really have the heart, or perhaps confidence, to tell you what he really thinks of your childish talk. The barely-there path back to your home has you growing much more tired— as if weights are tied to your legs. You wish you could stay. The moss crunches softly under your feet, and the dewy air starts to feel a bit cold to the touch. Despite everything, it’s always peaceful here. You cast a brief glance up to the man as he pushes the shrubbery aside. His face has a vacant sort of look, until he catches you looking, and his mouth curls up. “I’ll tell your maiden servants to prepare a purifying ritual for you.”

“Ugh, no, please. Anything but that.”

+

“The koi fish aren’t around anymore, are they, lady?” There’s a slight hesitation in her voice as your maid walks up.

You nod, lift your sleeves to brush your fingers through the water and wait. You got them as a present for your coming of age festivities— the most beautiful blue grey with red fins— much too expensive for your liking but a courting gift nonetheless. You’d been quite fond of the walks out of your houses’ walls because of them. The feed floats sadly on the surface of the inlet, where the clear river water shows no sign at all of the normally curious animals. “It seems like they’ve gone.” What a shame.

Your other maiden scans the area, before rushing to help you up onto your feet as she lowers her head. “Should we ask the master to procure some more? We know feeding the fish brings you much joy.”

The girl helps to fix your sleeves again, before awaiting your call. “No, that’s quite alright. There’s no use replacing a gift.” You cast a wary glance at the bay once more, not quite sure what you’re looking for; but fail to find anything out of the ordinary. A sight furrow comes to your brow, before you hike up your layers of skirts- much to the shock of your two servants- and turn to them with a softer smile. “I would like to be alone for a bit—”

“Lady!” one of them squeaks, but you only laugh.

“I am certain, Hitsu. Tell my father I will be home before tea and dinner, and if you could prepare my bath…” The dark brunette has a question on her tongue, but does nod with the same trained properness that you’ve come to know. “I simply wish to walk along the river, I won’t swim. It’ll be quick, I promise.” It’s not a lie. You have no intention of ruining your beautiful, expensive clothing by going any further than a shallow few steps. But there’s a nagging memory somewhere in the back of your mind— 

You used to have so many dreams, all of them now too faint to recall. Both young ladies give each other a look, before eventually bowing deeply and heading back towards the palace gates.

See, that nagging sense that you’re forgetting something important, something crucial, overcomes you. It’s almost impossible to ignore, and you kick off your shoes to tread carefully along the edge of the deep pool of fresh spring water. The moss is soft under your feet, keeping a tight grip on your embroidered silks.

When you were only a few years old, you used to have these dreams. Dreams of drowning, of ghouls and demons. They grew scarcer the older you got, and eventually even the weekly purification spells and chants became declared unnecessary. But where the memories once sat, now only a blank hole remains in your mind. And however hard you try to remember, you can never quite get there. You make it to the sloped edge of the river not much later, stepping up the small sputtering waterfall and a few round stones between stray bamboo— nearly still water pooling at your feet.

It’s chilly, but not freezing. Something scratches in the back of your skull, deep down. It trickles down your neck, and with a steady heartbeat, it breathes.

But you can’t catch the thought, and the harder you try, the cloudier it becomes— eventually you click your tongue and start walking along the water edge up stream. You should look for your fish. If they swam out of the inlet somehow, maybe they’d be around. They are, much like you are, bred for captivity and wouldn’t survive too long on their own. The sun casts warm spring rays onto your skin, walking in much needed solitude. When you barely realize you’ve spaced out, you’ve already made it to a bend in the river where peach blossoms float on the otherwise pristine surface of the water— and despite your previous care, you drop your dress.

The blossoms swirl in slow circles. And a raindrop lands on your nose. 

Arms, wrapped tight around your chest. Claws. Wide lashless eyes.

Something floods your brain so suddenly that you stumble back a few steps and gasp, sucking in a breath.

It was here. You can’t exactly make out what, but your gut recognizes the trees, the scraggly stones sticking out of the water. Your lungs full of water, and hands all over.

Bumps rise all over your back as you look around, and water seeps up along your tarikubi robe. It’s so quiet, and the stillness starts to trouble with each droplet that comes down. But you breathe. You’ve been here, perhaps more than once, and the aching, pressing itch deep in your head grows more unbearable. When a metallic flicker catches your eyes, you glance down. The rain now starts up more properly, and though the trees provide some shelter, there’s no hiding away from the cold as you walk in just deep enough to bend and pick up a dainty golden chain from between the smooth rocks.

It’s fine like thread, and cold to the touch, and though you can’t quite explain it; something about this finely crafted piece is familiar too. Even through the rain and the chills crawling all the way up your spine, you study the necklace closer. The intricate detail is almost too pristine.

A soft splash on the other side of the river startles you— The sudden scare makes you lose your balance and fall back onto your lower end. Hard. The ache immediately has you whimpering, but instead of worrying about the pain, you slowly try to catch yourself on the rocks; pained enough in the motion that you swear — you see a person diving underneath the water edge. Something pale and fast. You scream, and whatever you saw dashes away before you can think about doing different. The blossoms drift off as you scramble back up; your bruised palms sting, and your heartbeat still hammers hard in your throat when the silence returns.

But the blurry flash of maroon hair and fiery red eyes you caught is long gone.

And much too soon, the clouds that had seemed so fluffy and beautiful earlier turn a dreary grey. You turn on your heel and book it back down the river side on bare feet— still clamping the chain between your fingers.

+

The wick of your lantern splutters with thick oil as you fail to catch sleep. Even with the spring weather it’s chilly, with you remaining wrapped under a thick blanket. You breathe a long sigh, and listen to the crackling of the candle beside your bed in the absence of any other sound. The earlier lecture of your father, your mother, and even the normally quiet and collected matron of the house still lingers on your mind— it’s not like you can blame anyone. You wouldn’t be the first stupid, brazen young girl who happened to drown, and despite the quiet lives most girls like you live, you most likely won’t be the last.

You shouldn’t have been out there. Your servants had been ghastly pale from fright upon seeing the state in which you returned, and even the thorough scrubbing and hours-long bath didn’t do much to alleviate the ache in your lower back.

Despite all that, you’re stuck. Eyes -monstrous, unnatural eyes- appear in the crevices of your mind each time you close your own. No amount of prayer makes the longing fade, and the longer you lay here, the deeper they seem to dig into your flesh. Goosebumps crawl all over your skin once more. When you throw your blankets off you, you go digging in one of the woven baskets for the thickest bland garments you’ve got— tying them around your hips until you’re dressed enough to peer out into the hall. The frigid air current howls through the house when you gather your lantern, some woven socks, and after a brief bit of deliberation; snatch the golden chain from beside your pillow.

The palace is quiet at night, an almost eerie sort of calm that is broken only by the soft ‘pats’ of your feet on the hardwood— with the lanterns barely providing enough light to see a good arms length at a time. The wind pushes you forward, nuzzling deeper into the collar of your clothing until you make it outside. Even under the starry sky, there’s no doubt that this is a stupid idea. No good can come from nightly outings — though you’ve seen girls come and go in similar ways under the cover of night, you’re quite sure their purpose was less out-for-trouble than you are now. But what else can you do?

How could you ever sleep soundly not knowing what’s out there.

With only the flickering reflection on the water, you bow before your home— you’d be back soon enough. You love your clan— and you have no intention of getting caught in long lectures twice in a night. The guards at the gates have no way of noticing you as you slip into the brush and cover the lamp from sight, as cold breaths form clouds before your eyes.

Your legs move almost instinctively until you come upon the peach tree, and the pretty white flowers rain down with the breeze. You place the candle by your feet; and hesitate before taking your own seat on a round rock right by the water edge. You’ve never seen a yokai. Not that you can remember at the very least, but if you would have-you didn’t expect to here. Not the river that blessed your birth, or the one who gives everyone life by way of harvest. Maybe what you saw was a farmer bathing, or a particularly pale, large cod— wouldn’t that make more sense. Isn’t that exactly why you didn’t tell your father?

Because naïvity and silly wonder seems better than monsters lurking among the shrub.

Sadly, but perhaps unsurprisingly, a soft splashing in the water sets every hair on your body upright— and your mouth goes dry. It’s so dark. So awfully dark that it’s hard to see even past your own feet, if not for the broken reflection of your candle in the water. You know it's there. You feel it, by the rancid sort of churning in your stomach, the rapid beating of your heart. You swallow the tightness in your throat as best you can. “I’ve come to return your necklace. I didn’t mean to steal it, so I’ve come to give it back.” You wish you could let your eyes grow used to the dark, but without candle light, it’d be so much harder to get back home in one piece.

After just the sounds of the river drag on, you slowly take another breath, and try to bite back the wetness that rises every time you try and fail to find the eyes you know are looking at you. “I don’t wish to harm anyone.” The wind seems to howl harder across the river, and you can’t fight the horrible visions of monsters all around you, just there in the darkness; tightening your hands into fists. “So I wish you would not harm me either. You can have it back.” Your hand shakes when you hold out the chain above the water— not nearly far enough for anything to reach it without coming into your sight. But you’re too frightened to go any deeper, and your lungs tighten.

“Please, I-”

The peaceful spluttering of the water is suddenly disrupted by a much louder splashing, and you freeze up with a sharp gasp, shoulders trembling despite yourself. You don’t dare move any more than that— only after a minute or so of silence, you continue. “Hello? Don’t you want your necklace back?”

The reeds shake in the wind, and one of the blossoms brushes along your cheek as it falls into your crouched lap. Your breathing is tense enough to almost hide the little mumble that reaches back. It’s soft, sweet like dripping honey, and makes your whole spine tingle. “We want.”

If you had any less sense, you’d probably run right back home. But the idea of moving is too terrifying, so you’re stuck rooted in place as you take a breath. The voice sounds young enough, but the Japanese is distinctly older than your own dialect, rolling off the tongue with a vague foreign lilt— and it takes your frightened brain a little longer than you want to process that the voice isn’t simply human. When another little splash sounds a bit closer, you pull your outstretched hand back to your chest. “Can you see me?” Your own voice wavers when trying to make out any shape in the river. Alas, it’s just so dark that any further effort hurts your eyes.

“Yes.”

“I’ve come to give back your necklace. I got scared and took it, I’m sorry. I mean no harm-”

“He told.” The voice is unbearably clear. Almost like it’s being spoken directly into your head, even though it’s just a mere whisper among the rippling water. It’s distracting, and feels ice cold between your ears.

“Who’s he?” you try, biting your lip. The river seems to stare back at you, and you can’t do anything but hope you aren’t making some horrible mistake. Are you supposed to talk to the monsters that go bump in the night? “I- I don’t know where you are, I can’t see you.” Despite the soft, gentle nature of the voice, your heart patters wildly, unable to let go of your fear when there’s another closer splash. You must only be a dozen feet away from each other now, and still you can’t even see past the water at your toes. The voice stays quiet for a while.

“You don’t see is … better.”

You don’t respond for even longer. But for whatever reason, you almost want to agree. Not seeing, he almost sounds like a childhood friend of yours. The soft, honeyed words aren’t so frightening when you can’t see what they’re being spoken by; and you gather your last bit of courage to softly open your palm out again towards the night. “I’ll throw it over to you. Can you catch it?”

“No ‘throw’.” The -whatever- struggles with the word as he says it, before going quiet. You’re not sure if he doesn’t want you to throw it, or he simply doesn’t understand— so you just bite your lip and wait for any further comments that eventually do follow. “You put paw- h-hand.” Then, after another breath, “Come.” With a slight tremble in your voice, you breathe out a little laugh. You are really being asked to be braver than any girl with sense would— dragging your lantern closer over the pebbles until it’s right by your feet. Cursing yourself, you blink back nervous tears, trembling as you hike up the edge of your skirts, just the tiniest bit, and place only one foot into the shallowest part of the river for stability.

Your hand drops halfway outstretched, and you watch the flame where she glints back on the chain.

More splashing makes way for a more disturbing sound once it surfaces, of a body dragging over the shallow of the river towards you, scraping along the blunt stones— and you almost dart away when the sound comes close enough to reach. But your fingertips are almost frozen solid when another hand comes ever faintly into view, and wetness drops into your palm. To call it a hand is gracious, you decide. There’s longer digits, clawed, and webbed between each bony finger, and the wet glossy skin is more curved spike than thumb. The paw slides carefully along your hand, swiping up the chain as it goes— and leaves a cold coating all over your palm that you snatch back too quickly.

It’s unbearable to stay so close to something and not see it now, and you quickly hurry back to the safety of your rock as the same shuffling goes back to the water. Your heartbeat’s in your throat, and you can’t find any polite words to offer it until the yokai speaks again.

“Rin present, with- no, f-for you. You give present back, make happy. I am thank you.” You’re welcome, you think, but you barely manage to paint on a little smile before wringing your hands together and picking your lantern back up for safekeeping.

“I’m heading home now. If I’m not back soon my guards will find out.” It doesn’t feel entirely appropriate to thank it for not killing you when it had ample chance to, so you stay quiet. But there’s also a sense of gratitude that washes over you. Soon you’ll be back in bed like all of this was a dream. That seems right. That seems good. Your tongue lingers on your words. “You … What's your name?” The river bank feels much safer now you’re back on solid ground, and you can see the peach blossoms you almost slipped on.

There’s another long pause, where you almost make a run for it back all the way home, before the voice sounds out again from the dark— sugary sweet in its tone.

“Makoto.”

+

You’re pretty sure you should be questioning your own sanity. Everyone else wouldn’t hesitate to, and after the few restless nights you’ve had, you should be staying as far away as you can. But curiosity, mixed with a slight sense of obligation, has you walking the river bank like a little droplet flowing back to the sea. The quiet, scruffy man following behind doesn’t say much… never does, and you can’t say you dislike it. But you feel the glances your way, distracting you. Soon you find yourself clearing your voice. “You’re wondering why I’m walking this same path again?”

The older man only hesitates for a moment. “No, lady.”

“Sure you are. I would wonder if I were you.” There’s a faint smile that makes its way up, glancing out over the babbling brook to your left as grass tickles your ankles. “Not too long now and I’ll be engaged…” The peach blossoms above are almost done blooming— and you’ve never known your father to be an indecisive man. “Walking gives me a little break from all the fussing attendants, and father's advisors. Which is why it’d be even better if I were alone-”

It doesn’t take much pushback at all for the man to stop in place and give you a little look, resting his hand on the handle of his sword. “Lady.”

“Oh, please Azuma-san, we’ve had this same conversation for years.”

“I am not to leave you unprotected-”

You turn on your heel to face him. “I want to swim.” The stubborn frown on his face doesn’t move an inch, as your eyes go a little more puppy-esque. You have to know, so you have to lie. It doesn’t bring you joy either, but you might go insane if you have to live with questions for the next twenty years barred in some fancy prison of your future husband’s making. “-Swim right here. Without my very expensive clothing getting ruined.” Still that stone wall refuses to budge, and you throw your last bit of dignity into the ring. If this was anyone else you’d never hear the end of your unrefined words. “So I am going to get undressed.”

“—Ag-lright, just quiet. Your servants hear you and I’ll be lynched in the square.” He sighs deeply, rubbing his hand over his scruff, then gives a little bow. He wants nothing more than to roll his eyes when you offer back a self-satisfied grin, but instead takes a few steps the way you came with a stern look. “I’ll ask one of your maiden servants to make her way over here.”

“Don’t tell her to hurry!” you chant back, only taking off the heaviest layer of clothing once he’s out of sight. You lay it safe out of reach, before kicking off your shoes and socks and waddling towards the big stones again. Sure enough, the river here is a lot deeper than it looks. There’s a ledge in the pool that’s dark enough for almost any kind of monster to hide. This at least means your midnight escape wasn’t a total delusion. The peaceful sway of water grass settles when you dip your toes in the water, and wonder. There’s only a brief few minutes where you sit to think, before a slight thrashing once again captures your attention.

Only when you look up, the river is still, safe for a few tiny fish jumping out of the water. You get up, and tie your skirts up higher to inspect. A large maroon shape darts away into the darkness before you can take a good look, splashing droplets all over the river bank— and you hold your breath. You aren’t crazy. That definitely was much larger than any fish you’ve ever seen, and such a brilliant color that nothing but yokai could possess it. Brighter than all the finest silks, shimmering like a mirror. You wait for what could be a few seconds or an hour, before… someone- something else starts coming up from the darkness.

The olive-golden glitter rises so slow you have no choice but to take in another breath, but luckily don’t scare it away. His light chestnut hair is chopped short-ish, and a strangely human face— with cloudy black eyes, and green gashes either side of his neck— where he hovers below the water surface. It’s not human though. The eyes are big, round and deer-like, nose flatter, and his skin seems almost pearlescent. You don’t have the ability to think if you’re brave or just frozen solid. But whatever the case, the humanesque monster seems to stare for quite a while before judging it safe enough to approach.

It’s only then that you get to see the full extent of his body, scaled from ribs down, with a snake-like bottom half that’s at least longer than your entire body, and ending in a beautiful fish-like tail that feathers out in glittering threads. “Oh…” you breathe, and your arms wrap around yourself for protection, but you still don’t move further. Can’t, more like.

The half-man is close enough -and real enough- to feel a bit nauseating. Close enough to set every hair on your body on end and have your heartbeat a wild patter. But it’s the voice that really makes you feel frigid, gulping for air when that soothing tone comes out of a monstrous mouth. Whatever you had expected to see… wasn’t this. You can’t make out if the near-resemblance is comforting, or more frightening. You shiver at the black tongue, against porcelain white teeth.

“You come back.”

Your nod is hesitant, and you fidget with your jewelry in an attempt to calm your nerves. “I- wanted to see who I’d been talking to, that night. I haven’t slept well since then.”

He hoists himself a little further out of the water onto both hands, clawed and boney. “That was you, right? Makoto?” The brunet only gives a single nod of response, and doesn’t take his dark eyes off you for a second. And you want to laugh, though it isn’t too funny. The scene is just so absurd that you have nothing else to do, but laugh. “Isn’t this weird, talking to each other? How come yokai speak Japanese?” your voice comes, and you only hear how childish you sound when it seems to hang over the river without answer.

Out of all the questions you can ask, that’s what is most important to you? Makoto is gracious as he scoots a little closer once again, scraping his long, heavily muscled tail up over the pebbles and stones. “I listen very many year. Always listen, listen woman, listen warrior, listen you.” He blinks, and blondish lashes are the only normality you have staring back at him. “All can’t speak like me. I -hmm, pras-”

“Practice?” you try, and he clearly agrees when his tail pats happily on the ground. When you smile, he grins back wide and kind, his teeth are much sharper than yours. There’s something so human about the look, that you feel your muscles unwind a little further. You suppose, if he wasn’t so strange looking, with the wrong shades and fins here and there; he’d be quite handsome. He’d go over well with the maiden servants in the clan, too. “Many years, huh? Then- How old are you?”

“Hmmm- old. Very…” He doesn’t seem it, though. You avert your eyes when the water flicks over your feet, slowly dropping your shoes to the side. When you look back, he’s gotten closer yet, and is reaching out his hand towards the edge of the water, towards you. Despite your hesitation, and slight disgust— scaly and seemingly frost bitten pale lips, and unnatural greenish marks along his neck that flare out and in— there’s something that makes you want to follow.

A call, or instinct, to glide into the water and feel it embrace you. “You want come in?” he prompts, softly, and you do. You aren’t much of a swimmer even in high summer, and yet. You find yourself closing the distance and reaching out for his hand, letting your fingertips glide along as you get up to your knees into the water, and then get pulled along further step by unsure step. “Good, come.”

“Ah- it’s cold!” you squeak, but Makoto’s fingers wrap around your hand to support you even when you get almost up to your chest into the river, water crawling up your clothing and making your chest feel tight. “Sh- it's so cold.”

“Water not cold. You warm.” Only when he comes up in front of you do you truly notice how much bigger he is. His hands dwarf yours, and even though you’re higher up, his tail is curved aside to fit on the ground so he stares down at you— covering the sun from your view. He towers over any man you’ve ever seen, and his human-esque top half is still much broader than most. Like a hard plane of muscle, marked with thousands of golden freckles that shift in color the longer you look.

Shivers climb up your legs, and the water seeps your energy out of you. Wrapping your free arm around yourself, you rub some heat into your skin. Those pale lashes flutter as he gives you a half lidded glance, and the freckles that also go across his cheeks color a little more amber. “Lady is … cute.” Large hands suddenly slide along your sides up, before dragging over your shoulders and slowly taking your clothing with it, removing one of a few layers as he leans in. “Here, better without.”

“Oh. No- I don’t- think-”

“Shhh. Better, I know,” he seems to get closer, even though you are too busy staring back into the darkness of his eyes to really notice; and let him untie the robes enough to toss it towards the water edge. Then he pauses, and gets up higher onto his coiled tail to pull another layer off and throw it. Until you’re left standing in only your flimsier linen undergarb, and you’re suddenly much too aware of how peaked your nipples are against the scratchy fabric. But his hands slide up along your thighs to start peeling that off too, when you grab for him and shake your head.

Makoto insists. “No cold when not -this.” His hands keep going up even with your pressure on them.

Having a night encounter with a man is one thing, but you don’t know how you’d ever explain this if someone saw. You can’t dart away in a flash and escape the consequences. You have to go home after this. “I need my clothes to go back—” you quickly beg, ignoring the soft pads of his fingers along your upper thighs, “and if people see- Makoto, please.” Your whole body aches with the cold, and though the touch feels nice, it doesn’t seem right. Your nakedness isn’t a simple thing, even if his is.

“Clothes heavy. Water don’t like clothes.” He turns you around and you lose your footing on the stable flooring, arms quickly clinging onto his wide shoulders for support— it does make his point. Your clothes are incredibly heavy soaked, and pull down on you as strong arms ever so slowly wrap around your waist; nose only a few inches from yours. You can’t help it, your face gets hot. Cheeks, ears, nose- everything starts getting a distracting warm glow that you do your best to ignore, pulling your lip between your teeth. Even so, he seems to look down at you with intrigue, water reflecting in the black of his eyes. “What?”

“You’re very close…” you confess, and also try to release some of the tightness of your embrace— but amusement only brings him closer. He tilts his head, before leaning in until your foreheads meet, and the cooler skin consumes you. “Makoto-sama-”

“Human kiss, hm?” He’s so close, and his mouth is right there -and though you have no clue why, you really want to. The thought is almost as real as the air you breathe, feeling his hands roam all over your body through the soaked linen. Your voice doesn’t make it out when you nod, but he still lifts you into his chest, and your fingertips dig into his shoulders instinctively. “Show me how to kiss? You little one -hmm- good- fit.” You can’t help it, in place of physical heat there’s a sort of aching fire that spreads through your limbs the longer you stay close— and once you start you can’t stop.

Your mouth meets his first, lips moving with yours as his arms squeeze tighter; but when your tongue brushes his lips and meets his, he makes a noise. A low sort of purring that rattles his chest, and has him leaning in harder, trying to bury you into his body as your tongues brush and you suck and moan. His taste is mild but his tongue is heavy, and much longer than yours when it slips further into your mouth. Much longer, bigger, and the wetness soon has you feeling like you can’t breathe.

You pull back with a gasp, staring at the way his long tongue brushes along those sharp teeth before he leans in more. “Again.” You try to make some separation between your two bodies, but clearly Makoto doesn’t care for it when he clamps his hand down around your hip and kisses you more, melting to you as his tongue brushes against yours. He kisses like you’re the first and last thing he’s tasted, even when you moan a little whimper at the lack of air. His cold skin prickles against yours, grinding his waist against you slowly as your head pounds. Still, it feels good.

You don’t ever want to leave— and it’s this exact feeling that has you pulling back for air. You must be out of your mind. He stares with a blown out sort of hunger when you say his name again, and run your fingers along his shoulders up a little. “I’m going to get in trouble if someone finds me here- and- it’s not like we can—” Your cheeks get even hotter when you try to say the words, not even sure if he’d understand. Does a yokai’s understanding include human nighttimes? When he shows no intention of putting you down, you bury your face into his chest, feeling even smaller than before.

Though his skin is cold to the touch, there’s an intense amount of heat surging between you two, almost impossible to ignore— and the way you’re positioned against him, large arms caging you against his waist that pushes into you— doesn’t help anything. You can feel yourself get more slick each time you move your legs. He seems to chuckle when you groan- and as if sensing your train of thought, he rubs his nose along your ear and down the sensitive of your neck with a lower voice. “I want see. Human body so little. Want see it.”

That’s the tipping point. Every fiber in your being aches to obey, to let yourself get touched, seen, taken by him— and your mouth drops open a sliver as you struggle to find words. Your feet can’t reach the bottom here, and Makoto seems content to keep rubbing against you in a slow sea-saw motion that makes your center feel entirely hot. And eventually you crack. Blinking up at him, you breathe a faint “okay”, and let him turn you around. His hands are quick in their exploration, sliding under the last layer up your thighs, squeezing every few inches as he goes up. When he gets to your center, there’s a little flutter of his eyes, before those digits slide in and brush over your pussy, rubbing just soft enough to leave you wanting. “Warm,” he breathes, and then pulls you a little closer. “You do me too.”

As he pushes your last layer of clothing open fully and starts sliding it off your shoulders, you allow yourself just a little curiosity. He’s handsome, and he’s close, and you just feel so needy. Your breathing is still short against his chest, but your numb fingers glide down his sides with purpose as the muscles flex under your touch. His chest rumbles when you whine at the prodding and circling of his fingers around your dripping pussy, and you glide your hands down to his tail. The touch feels a little coarse, but he’s warmer there, and when you rub your palm over the area he’d been grinding into your waist, your fingers feel a softer, spongey slit. Makoto hisses when you rub a finger up and down, and you feel more heat burn onto your face. “Here?”

The question is answered when your finger slips in and is all hot, and something bumps you. But he picks you up and with one swift dash, lays you down on the river bank to get up between your legs. You need to open wide to allow him to fit, and can only whine out his name when the weight of his body over yours pushes you into the cold stones. He licks the air a few times, before grunting. You wish you could do anything other than just flush and look away when his hands descend onto your tits and start touching and rubbing, and the pressure leaves you all exposed. But it doesn’t take long for his attention to shift back to between your legs, and now with a better angle, he sinks down to nose below your navel. “Hmn-”

The purring is paired with a flaring of the gashes on his neck, and his eyes roll back. When his hands spread your legs up as wide as you can go, he nuzzles into you, and that long black tongue peeks out to lick slowly. You can’t help it, you moan. Loudly. It feels like a million pinpricks are traveling your body, as the very long, heavy tongue drags a long strip up your center, and then the tip of it laps at the wetness coating your hole— that quickly gets pushed open further with each sloppy lick. His tongue pushes inside you as he sucks and the feeling of something so hot and so- squirmy makes you squeeze your eyes closed. It’s too strange, but you can’t pull back.

Your hands even reach for his head to tangle your fingers in his hair and whine, your back curling from the floor. You’re drenched- no longer just water as your pussy clenches around his tongue that he forces in to lick places you’ve never been licked. Makoto wraps an arm around your thigh to pull it over his shoulder when you curl and wiggle against him- you can’t help it, it feels so good. Everything’s so sensitive, like your entire body’s been doused into hot water and you’re drowning— only difference is, you’re actively longing for more.

It’s better than any drink-induced daze, late night tussle with a stable boy. It’s even better than your own touch and mind, because he’s just so big and you’re so full, so hot. Your hips grind against his face when he sucks again, and his nose brushes your most sensitive area— and try not to let the water into your mouth when you yerk again. “Ah, ahg, Makoto-sama. I can’t- I can’t handle this much, please. Oh dear gods, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Ah-ughhh, f- ah, please -keep going.”

Your lower belly is wound so tight, and even the sound of his breathing against you feels good. You could melt into the floor with how much slick is coating your insides, dripping out of you around the suction on your cunt. And Makoto doesn’t have any intention of moving. Your mind aches— you want more. You want to wrap your entire body around him and come apart— as his large hands squeeze your thighs tight and wrap them around his head like he can’t get deep enough.

The sloppy, wet sounds of his face burying between your legs to stuff you full of tongue, licking and sucking at your sensitive pussy. It has your muscles so tight as you roll your hips against him, and you can’t stop shaking. “Oh, I’m g-gonna cum— I can’t! I can’t. It feels so- gud. Ah, ahh. What is happening?” When your fingers clench in his hair, he lets out a long, animalistic groan as he glances back up. Still his tongue isn’t fully inside you. “I can’t- Makoto, I can’t!” Even though he’s reaching further than fingers can, he’s still able to fold the deft black muscle over your clit and slot his lips around it to suck. Hard.

And your body can’t handle any more. While his heartbeat pulses through his tongue against your clit, everything goes white, your muscles clenching so hard it hurts. And your heart beats so hard it feels like it stops altogether. If you make any noise at all, you can’t hear yourself over the pounding in your head, rattling your body so hard that nothing except you and him exist. Your eyes are shut until you’re aware of how he grunts against you and pinpricks get too unbearable. But he doesn’t stop, lifting your body to his face and allowing you to ride out your orgasm against him for what feels like forever.

When you feel like you can hear yourself breathe again, you unwrap your legs from around his head. “I thought my heart was going to explode. If Hitsu knew…”

Your eyes are teary when they flutter open against the light, and the black abysses that stare back are barely narrowed slits. Dipping his gills into water briefly before getting up above you again, Makoto seems different. There’s something predatory that wasn’t there before. You can’t help but go quiet. As his hands drag your body down a few inches, you swallow. “Are you okay? Sorry. I feel like I should thank you— I haven’t come that hard, ever. I don’t know about yokai but I don’t think I could feel that good.” His muscular body covers most of the river from your view, but you find it almost too hard to look at him. You’re still hot; but your skin feels cold.

His fingers slide down along your side when he lets out a little groan. “Yokai don’t do this.” Then he goes to brush his face and mouth along your throat, and you shiver a little at the feeling. “So pretty. Warm. I like warm. Stay with me?” You let him grind himself on top of you and embrace him the best you can, only fitting around the narrow of his waist, but after just a second you yerk up. Makoto pulls his head back when he notices, and you get another brush against your slit that makes a cold shiver run up your spine. Where the slit sat before, a dick has emerged- and your mouth drops open a little. The thing is vaguely dick shaped, but has spurs at the base like an anchor, is more pointed at the tip; and it also pulses with each breath.

“Pretty warm body, good. Smell good too.”

You can’t help but swear when you avert your eyes, and instead wrap your arms back around his neck. “Oh, fuck.” Surely, this is where you’d draw the line. Right? But the touching of that against you doesn’t make your body react the way you think it should. The prodding along your inner thighs just leaves you feeling empty, like you’d like to start all over again. Makoto grunts out a little breath when your tits brush his chest, before staring down at you.

After a few seconds of studying your face, and probably the heat that’s flooding your features, he licks his lips. “Human men have… hm-”

“Yes,” you quickly say. He smacks his lips and grinds against you again. “They uhm- put it inside.” If the answer shocks him, he certainly doesn’t show it— looking like he’s barely holding back from crashing his face back to yours and turning you over to fuck you like the begging whore you feel like. The longer he just keeps his solid body against yours, the harder it is to ignore yourself getting wet again against the pulsing of his cock. The purring, clicking noise coming from him feels nice, and you pull at him. “You’re not done yet, right? I can do more.”

You angle your hips a little, and try not to sound so desperate when looking up at him for a kiss. “Please- put it inside me. I- I want to feel you.” Your hands slide over the rougher scales down between you two to reach for him, and hesitate a little when his cock is heavy and covered in some sort of slime; and it seems to follow your touch. But you’re too far past embarrassment to truly care, and Makoto groans when you wrap your fingers around him to squeeze softly. “I need you.” You really don’t know what’s wrong with you. You feel like your body’s being torn apart. You want to be filled, fucked full of him, and get pumped round of his kids— all things that you shouldn’t be thinking about. You didn’t with any men you’ve been with. You can’t.

Even though you know you’re being ludicrous, when he goes in for a kiss, you cling onto him hard; digging your nails into his back. You don’t even know if he could fit. His cock is proportionate to him- but it’s big and long and girthy enough to put any man to shame. You should care. You should care that you could regret being filled up to your breaking point, but you’re just so, so desperate. You might die if he doesn’t fuck you. You can feel it. “Please, please, please—”

—You slide a few feet across the floor, angry thrashing scaring you up into a flounder as you breathe in deeply. Makoto���s dragged off of you and down before you can even blink, water splashing everywhere; and you struggle back to the riverbank with wide eyes. Now you’re no longer side by side with another person- no, creature- you suddenly feel the entire ache of the cold water. The shortness of breath, the numbness of your lips and hands and feet. You feel the painful sting of your back where you’ve been sliced by a dozen sharp rocks, struggling to keep your head above water. And you feel the soreness between your legs of having been filled by something too big.

When you get over the pure shock, you notice the struggling has stopped, and you notice your creature’s golden shape next to someone else. They glitter and glint even in the low light of the afternoon, and you furrow your brows. The second shape only gets clearer when the light shines through the water and colors the flickers a blinding maroon. Your tongue feels cold.

Your arms wrap over your chest and cover up the best you can when Makoto surfaces again and gives you a kind smile, but you take a slight step back. His long, pale lashes flutter when he reaches out a hand. “Sorry. Rin don’t want to bleed you.” Your back and your painful scrapes are the lesser of your worries though. Whatever spell you were under, you’ve been snapped out of. You feel entirely strange- enough to have hot tears welling up along your waterline. What the hell have you been dragged into? You were going to… do things with some monster you didn’t know existed until today. Your brain screams and pounds, and your stomach is entirely flipped. But the brunet softly continues. “He don’t like I take you. Can you come here?”

“No.” Your hair now sticks to your neck and chest, and every second you’re out of the water, is one where the feeling comes back to your limbs. Your arms are so heavy as you keep them up. “There’s more of you?” You don’t know what you expected, really. Maybe you should have known. Maybe you should have questioned. But how could you have truly known?

“Yes.” he answers after a beat, and swims up a little closer with a frightening ease. “Shhh, okay. He will come. You stay.” You try to tell him not to, but he dips below the water surface before you get the chance to ask him not to, splashing water all over as he does— and you don’t know what else to do but to stare at the small bubbles that pop as peach blossoms wash over your feet. Before too long, the reddish shape surfaces alongside Makoto. He lingers in the deep of the river however; fiery eyes zeroing in on you without blinking at all. He stays submerged from the nose down, and you can’t help but feel too watched. 

Your heartbeat doesn’t calm when the brunet swims up closer, and you take a little breath. “Who’s that?”

“Rin,” Makoto softly, sweetly answers, as if he was expecting the question all along. He smiles wide like a saint, and you have to ignore the voice in the back of your head that tells you to get back in the water. His hand reaches out though, and you almost want to. Almost. Your arms and back break out in goosebumps. Then Makoto looks back at the other yokai, and gives you a smiley once-over. It takes you a little too long to recognize something else that plays over his features though. A strange sort of knowing, like he’s seeing right through you. “You Rin’s mate.”

You don’t know why you don’t get up and run.

“Come back in?”

Only that the voice in the back of your head gets more unbearable. You wrap your hands over your ears, and try to hang on.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[doubleddenden]

So the stories leaked from gen 4 development are certainly interesting, eh? I'm sure everyone has their own feelings about it- some of you are apparently ECSTATIC about fucking your Machokes. Good for you, my guy. Some are horrified, thinking something's been defiled (it is fiction and most importantly non canon, you're fine, get a grip).

Me? I think the lady (yes, it was a lady) that wrote all of these is REALLY PASSIONATE about her craft, and was also referencing real world mythos and how they portray similar instances- I think we all know that Zeus has probably done worse on all giving and receiving ends of these stories, as well as Poseidon, Loki, and probably some other myths from Europe, China, and definitely JAPAN- key word there. In fact, the Typhlosion story is probably a reference to a similar story about a badger yokai that can alter its face to appear human, and the Octillery story is definitely a reference to- well, tentacle porn is a thing for a reason that goes pretty far back as a way to get around censorship in hand painted porn. The contents of the story aren't really much different or more terrifying than mythos we'd see in the real world (or if you're in the bible belt like me, probably EXPOSED to with morning bible studies before class growing up), and it's mainly just shocking to see it in the context of Pokemon.

And I think that's kind of the point. Sinnoh is already a pretty dark region in terms of lore and myth, and has surprisingly religious undertones considering the family friendly nature of Pokemon and its general target audience. Obviously none of the horse, badger, sloth monkey, octopus, god, or... Lapras fucking made it to the final cut, although in Japan they still reference People and Pokemon being so equal at some point that they could marry- that's even kind of referenced in Legends Arceus with I think a diary written by a man kidnapped by a Froslass? its been a minute, but you probably know what I'm referencing.

I think an interesting question would be "How did we get to these terrifying stories?" Especially Typhlosion and Slakoth.

Its important to remember this: None of this was meant to see the light of day outside that office circa 2003 to 2004ish. Yeah, surprisingly you weren't supposed to see the story of a man fucking an Octillery BEFORE throwing it back out to sea in a rated E for everyone game, and you didn't! You saw it via twitter, reddit, 4chan, tumblr, discord, or your local weed guy who all spread it from someone who got it from confidential office logs we wouldn't see unless someone took that info from Game Freak's darkest depths of other secrets they'd prefer to keep hidden. Every game and media company has this, good and bad, to various degrees of sfw and not. Did you know Disney has an entire vault of actual PORN that animators would make of their own anthropomorphized characters? Locked nice and safely, too... with uh, some exceptions breaking containment, I think?

So with that being said, we understand this is meant to be privileged info only a handful of people were supposed to see. That means they can use words and stuff you normally wouldn't see- Adventure time for instance had Finn and Jake saying "fuck" in story boarding, kinda funny- because its meant to be workshopped and tinkered with, refined until you get something desirable.

In fact, creators will often propose darker ideas than what they actually want so that they can more easily talk censors into an outcome they ACTUALLY desire. Alex Hirsch did this a few times in Gravity Falls' production, and you know Disney was a bitch to deal with (although he probably didn't propose stuff like this, but you get the idea). So this being said- Obviously nobody wants a story about a Typhlosion engaging in a non-con relationship with a minor it kidnaps. Nobody wants to read a story about humans MUTILATING Slakoths for fun and then getting revenge impregnated by a Slaking, only to give birth to a Slakoth and have it killed and thus kill yourself out of grief for your lost child (people reading this without context- ho boy you guys have missed out on some crazy shit that's popped up). So what is okay from here?

Maybe a little Pokemon death after going a while without it and accruing a reputation of being safe for kids? Mention of Pokemon bones being picked clean of meat and put back into a river so it can come back reborn? Some darker undertones of Pokemon being tormented by Team Galactic? How about a story of a boy slaying Pokemon with a sword, but less detail of mutilation of Ursaring and Slakoth? All of this made it into Diamond and Pearl, didn't it? Add in a little Human and Pokemon "Marriage" that is easily scrubbed out and replaced with "eating at the same table" for the more sensitive Western audience, and you have some pretty believable, dark, somewhat uncomfortable but child friendly lore for Pokemon.

Not to mention, a lot of this was probably pitched just to get a feel of the vibe they were going for in the game. If you read back through the stories, bits and pieces end up being used in other, non Poke-fucking stories, or recontextualized. See the above.

While its certainly a relief that they're non canon, it is a rather interesting look at the development of gen 4 lore and actually makes it feel more... realistic, in a way- again, comparing it to real world mythos and religious tales. That, and honestly? The religious backstory is actually, unironically amazing- HEAVILY based on real world religion, but plenty of real world religions steal from other religions and mythos anyway (coughchristianitycough).

Its actually a bit sad, because in any other JRPG, Arceus becoming a wounded woman that an ordinary man cares for, Arceus falling in love with this man because he treated her so tenderly, bearing human twins, the twins becoming Dialga and Palkia to fight some Titan that would become Mt Coronet, and Arceus loving this man so much that she took his soul to create Azelf, Uxie, and Mesprit to spread love and joy throughout the world? That would literally be INSANELY GOOD world building. Plus! Arceus was a human woman when she did this! It was also consensual! Can you imagine what the world would have been like if we had gotten not only FEMALE Arceus- god of all Pokemon universes- but also a HUMAN INCARNATION of her? And this was BEFORE Giratina came into the picture, apparently. If anything, we got robbed a bit of some deep lore and potential story telling from this being cut, imo.

But one more thing to consider is this: All the stories, even if they did make it to the final cut, would still be stories within a story. Fictional folktales within a fictional setting. If we judge the above by how relevant the ACTUAL content that made it into the games were to the actual overarching plot... It'd be overall kinda useless beyond some flavor text. That's kind of the sad fact of it. Pokemon Players especially, grown adults too, are not exactly known to be well read and some play the game by rapidly A pressing every ounce of dialog they come across, even in brand new playthroughs. I'm sure some remember that one idiot on twitter that thought he made the discovery of the century when he found Snowpoint Temple in Legends Arceus, right? So understandably, especially when you're working on a clock, on limited space, on new and unfamiliar hardware, and trying to be as broad and reachable to audiences as you can- things get cut. Even... Some of the coolest lore building of all time SERIOUSLY A FUCKING PANTHEON WHAT THE HELL.

And I lied, there is one more thing to consider, especially for anyone actually morally offended by some of the content mentioned- Keep in mind that this is in 2003 to 2005ish Japan, with Game Freak (who we know are pretty out of touch in some regards, even by today's standards), before twitter, before tumblr, during a more edgy time for... well, everyone alive at the time, and especially adults. That's 20 years ago. Some of you may not have been alive at that point (did you finish your snacks and juice, lil guy?), some of you probably had a lot of your formative education influenced by the more puritanical side of tumblr or twitter, but it was simply a different time and place. That's it. The people involved in this have moved on and have probably grown into better people, and probably haven't made more fics like this. Maybe. Who knows. It's fiction anyway, and nobody real got hurt from it, and that's what's most important at the end of the day.

So that's my thoughts on it. I think I'm more annoyed by the fact that one of my favorites got a worse Vaporeon treatment than anything, and there's possibly the risk of Nintendo/TPC/Game Freak overreacting and gatekeeping Typhlosion out of the games for a bit. Sigh. My first pokemon, man. Well, anyway, try not to take it too seriously if you see the jokes and memes about it. It'll pass.

But hey, sexy Latina Skyla is canon! Shadow the Hedgehog wins!

[justanotherlifeff]

Frayed Threads of Fate

Scaramouche/Kabukimono/Wanderer x Reader

Read full fic at AO3

(Kitsunes fall in love only once. It is said that the legend of the red string of fate was born from this very notion—a bond so absolute that neither time nor destiny could sever it. A tale of destined lovers, woven into the pages of Inazuman light novels, romanticized and reimagined, yet so far removed from human experience that it was dismissed as mere fantasy.

And yet, the frayed red string hanging loosely from your pinky told a very different story.

[The story will take place in two different timelines. First, timeline 1 where Scaramouche was still the 6th harbinger, though it will begin from much before his Kabukimono days and go from there. There would be more of timeline 1 than timeline 2, and a lot of character interactions as the fanfic is more based on the relationship between Y/N and Scaramouche in his Kabukimono era, Kunikuzushi era and ofcourse, Scaramouche era. Second, timeline 2 which is Sumeru during in-game canon era after Wanderer got his memories back and tries to reconcile with the past he had with Y/N. There will be angst. Lots of angst. And a lot of triggering material as mentioned by the tags so be warned. Reader is a kitsune yokai and Yae Miko's half sister.])

Prologue

Godhood—an illusion, a meaningless ambition that he had once chased with relentless fervor. For centuries, he had believed in its promise, in the idea that divinity would grant him purpose, significance. And yet, in the end, it had amounted to nothing. No throne, no reverence, no grand design had awaited him at the finish line. Just the same cruel, indifferent world that had never once bent to his will.

Even erasing himself from Irminsul had done little to change the course of fate. He had thought—perhaps naively—that by vanishing, he could grant a better future to those whose misfortunes had been intertwined with his existence. That by severing himself from history, he could unmake the past, untangle the suffering that had taken root because of him. But the world did not grieve his absence. It did not stumble. It merely shifted, adjusted, rewrote itself to accommodate the void he left behind. And still, the same tragedies unfolded. The same people suffered—not by his hand this time, but by coincidence, by fate's own cruel design.

So what had he accomplished?

When the Dendro Archon returned his memories, when the Traveler stood before him under the shade of that sunsettia tree and told him that his life was not meaningless—that he had been a villain, yes, but a villain desperate for meaning—he hadn't known whether to laugh or to cry. What a pathetic joke. He had struggled, fought, abandoned, and betrayed, all in pursuit of something that had never existed in the first place. And even when he had given up, even when he had tried to rewrite his own story by erasing himself, the world had simply continued on as if he had never mattered.

Wanderer exhaled sharply, an almost bitter chuckle escaping his lips. Nothing had really changed. Or so he thought.

"Unfortunately, your place was taken by another lost soul."

Nahida’s words made him pause, his brow arching in faint curiosity. Another lost soul? Who could possibly take his place? Had another puppet been woven into the fabric of this timeline, doomed to walk the same miserable path he had barely escaped?

"Who took my place?" The question left his lips before he had fully processed it, driven less by concern and more by a detached, lingering curiosity—who else could be unfortunate enough to inherit the burden of his existence?

Nahida’s gaze was gentle, yet her words carried the weight of inevitability. "She goes by the Harbinger title 'Trouvère.' Though her true name is Y/N. Does the name ring a bell?"

For a moment, the world stood still. Then, the ground beneath him may as well have shattered. Y/N. A name he had buried, a presence he had long since abandoned to the past for the sake of moving forward—no, for the sake of severing all that made him weak. And yet, here it was again, spoken aloud with the finality of a cruel joke. Fate was merciless. He had sacrificed everything, erased himself from history to grant others a future untouched by his shadow. And in doing so, he had unknowingly condemned the only woman he had ever loved. Condemned her to his existence.

The weight of it settled like iron in his chest. She had inherited his suffering, his mistakes, his path paved with ruin. And he had been blind to it, believing that nothing had changed. But everything had changed. In the worst ways possible. The God of Wisdom had an irritating habit of reading minds.

"Come on," Nahida urged, a knowing glint in her eyes. "She’s staying in one of the chambers of the Sanctuary of Surasthana. You could meet her—perhaps talk to her—since she hasn't exactly been cooperative." She offered a sheepish smile, as if her words weren’t about to upend what little composure he had left.

The Wanderer exhaled, still attempting to process the revelation that, in another timeline, his villainy had persisted without him. And now, this—an echo of the past given form in the present. How difficult could this be? So he followed her.

To see her again. The woman who, despite everything, would have followed him to her death. No matter how many times he pushed her away, no matter how many times he abandoned her, she had remained. Devoted. Unwavering. What would she be like now? He had once heard a saying—kitsunes love only once. And in that other life, she had given that love to him. Had dedicated herself to him entirely, with a faith so unshakable it bordered on foolishness.

But without him, without the man she had once chased through storm and fire… Who had she become? The Sanctuary of Surasthana was as serene as ever, its halls steeped in quiet reverence. The air carried a sense of stillness, undisturbed, as if the world beyond its walls did not exist. Yet, for all its tranquility, peace was the last thing in the Wanderer’s heart. Was he even ready to face you? You, who had given up so much. You, whom he had already shattered once—perhaps beyond repair—only to somehow find a way to wound you again, even in a world where he no longer existed.

Did he even have the right?

The question settled heavily in his mind, an echo of doubt and guilt. Yet, despite everything, his feet carried him forward. Whether it was curiosity, obligation, or something deeper, he did not know. All he knew was that soon, he would see you again. And he was terrified of what he might find. The Wanderer had crossed many thresholds in his lifetime—or perhaps, in another lifetime entirely. Doors that led to places he was never meant to enter, boundaries he had shattered, choices that had shaped him into the person he was now. And yet, standing before this one, he hesitated.

Crossing the threshold of your chambers felt different. It was suffocating. A part of him wanted to turn back, to disappear before you could ever realize he was there. But he owed the Dendro Archon—owed her enough to see this through, even if every fiber of his being screamed at him to leave. So he stepped forward. Not for himself, not for you, but to ease a debt. And there you were. Sitting at a desk, your back to him, unaware—or perhaps unwilling to acknowledge—his presence. For all his apprehension, for all the ways he had braced himself, he still wasn’t prepared for this.

"I have no intention of cooperating, Buer. It doesn’t matter which one of your little followers you’ve dragged along this time."

Your voice cut through the chamber like a blade, sharp with exhaustion, laced with irritation. You weren’t speaking to him. You hadn’t even spared him a glance. No, your words were directed at none other than the Dendro Archon herself. Nahida, ever patient, merely sighed. "You may want to speak with him, Y/N," she said, unshaken by your hostility. "He has a rather interesting story—one that heavily relates to you."

And at that, you finally turned. Your gaze met his. For a fleeting moment, there was nothing. No flicker of recognition, no sign that his presence meant anything at all to you. Your eyes were empty, hollow—disinterested, as though he were no more than a stranger in passing. Then, in the space of a single breath, something shifted. Your expression flickered—widened—not in recognition, but in something far more visceral.

Your gaze dropped, fixating on his hand. On something unseen to anyone else in the room. And then the air snapped taut with killing intent. The shift was instantaneous. Before he could react, before he could so much as breathe, you moved. A blur of motion—then impact. The world tilted. His back hit the ground, breath ripped from his lungs as fingers clamped around his throat, pressing just enough to burn. Sharp nails dug into his skin, and your grip was ironclad, unyielding.

Fox ears flattened against your head, your pupils blown wide, wild with something between rage and fear. The unmistakable aggression of a kitsune yokai.

"Who the fuck are you?"

[ozzgin]

i'm not sure if you've answered this before, but what era of japan does the yokai harem take place in (as in when we are in the past)?

- (solider anon)

That's a good question! To be honest with you, I haven't considered the logistics much when I first started the story, since it was more of a thirst than a proper writing prompt.

The original story was inspired by Inuyasha, which seems to take place in the early 16th century. Someone on Reddit did a very thorough research that would place the first episode in late 1499. However, what I have to take in consideration for my own plot is the influence of onmyōji in Japanese society. At the time Inuyasha takes place, onmyōji loses its presence in the Official Bureau; it becomes a private, lowly job with a suspicious reputation, which goes against the social status that Abe no Nakamaro would have had among people.

Onmyōji is officially revived in the early modern period, beginning with 1600. On the other hand, I'd like to stay away from the Edo Period, as it's very politically charged and involves heavy conflict with foreigners. While it is mostly a peaceful time, it's also characterized by isolation and tight borders, which would make it essentially impossible for a foreigner Reader to walk around from town to town.

I am inclined to place the story at the end of the Heian Period (794–1185) and early Feudal Japan. The Heian Period is the peak for Onmyōji, with the Abe family occupying high-raking places in society. It would make sense for Abe no Nakamaro to be a highly regarded, almost-deified individual. With the rise of the samurai society, his power and influence begin to decline, which prompts him to seek even greater strength and potential immortality. He falls into a deep sleep and awaits his other half to eventually return. Reader would then arrive around the Kamakura Period (1185–1333).

How old would the yokai then be? I'm maybe imagining them to be born somewhere within the Nara or Asuka Periods, 500-700. This offers us a really fun possibility: The Tale of Genji was published in the Heian Period, and it is the book I used to name all the characters. What if the author at the time was inspired by the demons? It would be the other way around, the book and characters are based on the ancient yokai you encounter hundreds of years later. Makes for some interesting lore I'd say.

So, yeah. Still within Feudal Japan, but earlier than I originally expected. Thank you for asking, it was nice to actually put some thought into it.

[ghostlychaosfoil]

stained au arc posters!

the first one is the plus || arc (kirby’s introduction and integration with the tmnt) and the second is the poster for the double mutated arc (the tmnt get transported to a different planet via portal)

rambling about the symbolism and my design choices and connections to lore under cut😋

for the first:

everything behind him represents all the things that torment him.

The purpley pink vines is the kraang because of his long kraangification, he gets dreams about kraang, entire the color pink triggers ptsd (which is sad since HIS COLOR used to be pink), his marks his marks are now forever pink after the krangification permanently stained pink from the kraang.

The yellow and the eye represents Venus. Venus is the missing sister that has been trying to reach out to Kirby telepathically through his dreams. Since Venus is not extremely skilled with her mystic powers, her message does not translate well to kirby. His venus dreams end up scaring him and further developing his somniphobia.

The alligator is his father leatherhead, whom he has not seen since before the invasion. Leatherhead is dead but Kirby doesnt know that yet!!! because leatherhead died while kirby was still kraangified!! he does however ignore that possibility and lets his delusions run wild. saying stuff like “oh boy dad’ll looove to hear about this” (he hasnt seen his dad in months and his house is vacant and hes nowhere to be found). While he thinks these things on the surface, part of him misses his father and feels deep guilt and sadness that cant be treated with self gaslighting.

and obviously on the right is the hamato crest respresenting how he has a whole new and loving family that can help him put that stuff behind him. though hes weary

some other little details

kirby’s shell and leatherheads teeth dig into eachothers skin showing how they both are so attached to eachother and they hurt in their absence

the glint of teal in venus’s eye because thats her color

the tear in leatherheads eye representing the depressed spiral he went down after the invasion and kirby was missing

some of venus’s fire is burning kraang bits

for the second:

The purple side represents the planet Axolia and the blue side represents earth. Kirby is on earth because he didnt fall through the portal, but with the help of april and casey jr, hes trying to tap into his ninpo to get them back. Mikey is on the Axolian side because hes is the one of the brothers who didnt get double mutated and turned feral.

The thing that mikey is breaking is a flask of the Axolian mutagen. The bugs that took over axolia produce them and the native axolians (axolotl yokai, much like salamandrians) drink them much like they would water. But its toxic to foreign entities and materials. Mikey is breaking it because though he was not mutated by accident like his brothers, he has to take the mutagen in small quantities to gain enough power to learn the immunification and purification spells from the Axolians. this mutates him in the process but he doesnt lose his mind, but his body progressively changes (ex: the yellow spots forming on his hand in the art where he breaks the flask)

The white shape going through the middle represents the mystic powers at play. which is why its connected to kirby and mikey, who are both tapping into new mystic powers in order to help save their brothers

Leo donnie and raph are all on the cusp of this mystic barrier. on the earth side it shows their normal form, and on the axolian side it shows the new form they take after the mutation.

If donnies design looks a little different than raph and leos you would be right. for donnie, the mutagen didnt hit his skin or shell like raph and leos, the mutagen hit his battle shell, which ended up covering most of his body in mutated metal, making him look like a robot of some sort.

Some lore about planet axolia here and under #stained info #stained au