#and they ARE just that it's just a SHELL there's a real living creature in there

[lucalicatteart]

 sculpted a strange shimmery two headed snail, speckled with wild flowers on it's shell~

[paisleywraith]

Beyond your comprehension. 

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

Doctor Who and its expanded universe could do a dozen dozen plotlines that ask "can a Dalek turn traitor/be redeemed/be good" and I would go absolutely insane for it each and every time.

[m0nsterqzzz]

Happy Wife Happy Life

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pairing: Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

summary: being Clarisse's "wife" will always have it's perks

a/n: honestly don't know how to feel about this but I'm tired. anyway, kinda hate the ending. and my writing lol.

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Love is the greatest thing.

At least, in your eyes it is.

It can bring the strongest people to their knees, risking their lives or others lives just so that they can keep their person happy. It's always been amazing to you.

Not so much in your best friend Clarisse's. She'd much rather have the glory of being the strongest kid in school, or be feared by your classmates. "Love is stupid." She always tells you while she watches you study under the willow tree she likes climbing.

"No, it's not. It's powerful. You like powerful things don't you?" You'd say back with an airy laugh, then forcing her to come back down from the branches so you can help her with her math homework.

She's heard lots about the emotion called jealousy, but she'd never truly felt it until she saw Holly Bracken kiss your cheek during recess one day. The tightening of the chest, the way her throat went dry and she clenched her fist by her side from the other end of the black top and tried to stop herself from throwing the basketball in her hands towards the blonde girl's head. It wasn't a feeling Clarisse liked, and the feeling only went away when you were laying in her arms under the tree after school that day.

That warm afternoon, she'd asked you to marry her with a paper ring, one that you cherished for a whole week until it got caught in something and broke. You'd obviously said yes, the fact that you had a huge crush on her not exactly helping as you forced yourself to remember she was obviously kidding. Sealing the marriage with I do and then placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand like she'd seen done in the romantic movies her mother likes watching, you were officially hers. As long as you were her wife, Holly Bracken could no longer kiss your cheek with that ugly smug smile.

She went on to make sure of that, introducing you as her wife to anyone and everyone that was willingly to listen. You two were young, and nobody took it quite seriously until she saved up almost a full year's allowance money to buy you a nice looking- but still cheap- promise ring from the jewelry store downtown. It was a silent promise, one that she eventually voiced as you were sleeping over at her house.

"I'll be with you forever." She'd whispered in your ear, and you foolishly believed her.

She was gone three weeks later.

You didn't get a phone call, an email, or even a letter. She just....disappeared.

Her family stopped answering the door for you, seemingly purposefully avoiding you in town. It was months before you finally gave up, and it was obvious to anyone that looked hard enough you were slowly becoming a shell of yourself without her. Without your girl.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The only thing in your life that is weirder than Clarisse's mysterious disappearance, was the fact that a boy just told you you're a child of one of the Greek gods. You couldn't believe him. You'd learned about the gods in school, but there was no fudging way they were real. You'd only finally agreed to go to some place called Camp Half Blood when he rolled up one of his pant legs to reveal furry goat legs. Nothing will ever be weirder than that.

Just in time too, because right after you left the school building and started sprinting towards the forest across from the place, some giant winged creature that no one else seemed to see crashed through a window and started flying towards you.

Your protector, someone you learned is a satyr named Joey, lead you to camp with minimal death, which you learned is very rare when it comes to leading a demi-god to camp. It didn't help with the newly installed fear inside you, but you just simply nodded along with what he was saying as your eyes scanned the crowds of campers that are doing their own thing below the hill you stand on.

The moment you step past what Joey calls Thalia's tree, all eyes are on you. A new camper means special events so they feel welcome which means more fun for the campers and the drama of figuring out who their godly parent is. 

You don’t have any belongings other than the clothes on your skin and the school pencil that’s brought you a strange sense of comfort on your long trip. A female camper with blonde hair and gray eyes comes up and introduces herself as Annabeth, helping you to the “Hermes” cabin to give you a camp t-shirt and new pants. She explains all the new campers go there, at least until they get claimed, which means the kids in there are either children of Hermes, unclaimed, or new just like you. 

Since everyone is gone doing daily activities, you decide to just change in the cabin. It’s peaceful, the sound of campers laughter, birds in the trees.

Your blissful silence is broken when someone tightly wraps their arms around you from behind you and lifts you up in the air with a squeal, your hands flying to cover your bra-covered chest. “What the hell?!” You scream, but the profanities you were going to yell out die down in your throat when the person sets you down and you turn around to see Clarisse.

She doesn’t look much different, her hair a little bit grown out and her band t-shirts and jeans have been replaced by camouflage pants and an orange camp half blood shirt similar to the one you’re trying to put on. You’re so starstruck that you just stare, her arms still loosely wrapped around your waist as you stand there in only a bra and jeans. “Clar?” She nods, grinning brightly as she pulls you into yet another hug.

You’re much more aware this time, pushing her away harshly as you hurry to put on the shirt and then leave the cabin with a quick roll of your eyes. The curly haired girl is hot on your tail, attempting to grab your wrist to stop you before you pull it away as if she’s burned you. Her face is full of hurt, but your voice shows the same amount as you ask, “Why didn’t….why didn’t you call? Or email? Or-or send me a fucking letter? Just to let me know you were okay? That you came here.”

She sighs, eyes full of regret as they fall to look at her doc martens so she doesn’t have to see your sadness. “I couldn’t call you because a phone call is like sending a message out to any monsters that could be listening and find out where we are. Email, I don’t have any electronics cuz of the whole call thing.”

“And letter? I bet monsters don’t know how to read Clar.” The girl is silent for a minute, and as the silence continues is when you realize she doesn’t have an answer for you. You scoff, beginning to walk to who knows where again before she runs to catch up with you.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was scared. Gods, I was scared.” The worlds tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, and the campers around you fall silent as they stare with mouths agape in shock.

“Scared? What’s there to be scared of? It’s just me.” She nods, wordlessly reaching out to hold your hand. You let her this time and she feels relief flood through her. “Scared. I was scared….scared that you would hate me for leaving. I mean, what kind of woman leaves her wife?” She attempts a small laugh, and she takes it as a win that the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in the start of a smile. “I promised you forever and then left without another word. You had been looking at me through rose colored glasses our entire lives, I was scared those glasses were shattered. It’s not an excuse though. I should’ve sent you a letter, told you I was okay and told you how much I missed you.”

A small smile works its way onto your face, but she can still see the sadness in your eyes and she hates it. She hates it when you're sad. “Come here angel.” The girl hesitantly pulls you into her arms, almost crying when you relax into her hold and hug her back before she remembers where you guys are and how many campers are staring in shock at how sweet she’s acting.

“You have to understand that I’m still mad Clar. Even if you were scared, I spent years living in fear you were dead.” You mumble against her shoulder as you grip onto her like she’s going to disappear again if you let go.

The girl nods in agreement, cradling your head to her chest as she glares at the campers in an attempt to get them to leave you two alone. They do it.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Clarisse brings you to her cabin, cuddling with you in her bed as she tells you anything and everything that has happened over the past. She’s a child of Ares, and you spend several minutes that it makes sense after the amount of times she threatened other kids by saying she should hang them from the top of the flagpole. 

By dinner time, it’s like no time has passed, and everyone’s eyes are on you as you two walk in with her arm casually placed on your around the back of your waist as she leads you to her table where her siblings are trying not to make fun of her. After a lot of begging and threats, Chiron agreed to let you sit at the Ares table for your first week at camp. “Hey guys.” Her happy tone is a rare one around her by the look on their faces, the smile even rarer as she sits you down next to her spot on the bench. “This is my wife.”

The whole room goes silent, all eyes trained on you as your eyes dart up to stare at her. “What are you-” She cuts you off with amusement dancing in her brown eyes.

“What do you want to eat, honey?” Clarisse asks you, and a son of Ares you know as Mark scoffs before he says, “The last time I asked you to get me food, you poured your drink in my lap and told me it wasn’t your job.”

The smile falls from your friend's face as she glares at him. “That’s because it isn’t my job.”

“Then why are you getting her food?” 

“Because a happy wife equals a happy life alright? Now shut the fuck up.”

The smile is back as she turns to face you again, taking your order before she leaves to get that and her own food. 

The rest of the campers go back to their meals, though they’re clearly gossiping about Clarisse’s supposed wife as they eat. It doesn’t make you feel very happy, but all the doubt is gone as your girl comes back and sits down next to you, setting the food down before her hand falls to hold your hand under the table the way she used to during lunch at school.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

A little bit later, you finish eating and join in the group of campers leaving the dining hall towards the campfire with Clarisse walking beside you. “My legs hurt.” You mumble while leaning closer to her. She doesn’t miss a beat as she picks you up bridal style, casually carrying you to the bonfire like you weigh absolutely nothing. Smiling at the sound of your laughter, she sets you down on one of the logs surrounding the fire. “What was that for? I could’ve walked.” You say as she sits down next to you before pulling you into her lap.

“What kind of wife would I be if I let you walk around while in pain?” She grins before leaning her head on your shoulder. She seems happy, and you recently learned she hasn’t felt that way in a very long time so you simply smile before leaving a kiss on her forehead. Her fingers lace with yours, her thumb caressing the back of your hand as she talks to her brother. It’s like no time has passed. Although you’re still upset, it’s nice to have her again.

Clarisse makes you guys some smores, a few people coming up every once and a while to introduce themselves and your friend introduces you the same way every time; “This is my wife.” By the time you’re making your way to the Hermes cabin with her walking by your side like a bodyguard, everyone in camp is aware of the “marriage”.

“I wish you could come stay in the Ares cabin.” She mumbles into the crook of your neck on the porch of Hermes cabin, and you chuckle while rubbing circles on her back. “I think you annoyed Chiron enough for one day.”

The daughter of Ares sighs, reluctantly nodding as she gives you a gentle squeeze before walking away. You watch her walk to her cabin for a few seconds, a permanent smile on your face before you walk inside your crowded cabin.

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The next morning, it’s time for you to join in the routine of chores and training. It seems tiring, but Clarisse is by your side to help you with anything and everything so it’s okay.

“You’re getting better, hon.” She repeats for the 100th time in an hour, and your trust in her words is slowly fading as you sling the sword in your hands awkwardly towards the dummy covered in greek armor in front of you. The girl seems to notice your mood dropping, so she sighs and then stands up and walks towards you. You think she’s going to tell you to take the armor off just stop trying, but you shouldn't have. Clarisse was never one to tell you to give up on something. Instead, she places her hands on your hips, brown eyes straying from your face as she gently moves your body until you're standing in the correct way. You feel like clay under her grip, simply allowing her to position you as your face scans her features. 

It’s like something pulling you to lean in, and it’s only when you're inches away from her face do you realize she is leaning in too. As if realizing where you are and what you guys are doing, she clears her throat and backs away, her hands following to rest at her sides. “There. Try again.” She begins to awkwardly walk away, her confidence gone as she almost trips over some armor left on the floor by another camper.

You nervously laugh, taking a deep breath before you slash the sword forward again. The sword feels much more natural in your hand, and it’s almost like an instinct as you angle it so it hits the unprotected parts so it cuts open the material. 

Your friend cheers, rushing over to you and easily lifting you off the ground like you just won the olympics. Clarisse has always been that way, proud of every thing  you could ever do. With a small laugh, you thank her and finally get her to set you down. “Well done wifey.” The words flow out of Clarisse’s mouth like they’re the most natural thing, and you fake an annoyed sigh.

“You know I’m not your wife right?” You say with a laugh, but she clearly doesn’t find it very funny.

“Then what's this?” Her hand moves to grab your hand, holding it up in front of your face and you try to ignore the way butterflies explode in your stomach from the touch as her eyes lock on yours. With rose colored cheeks- you decide to blame it on the heat and not the feeling of her hand in yours- you finally take notice of what she’s talking about; the ring she bought you when you were kids, snuggly placed on your left hand ring finger. It was a bit too big when you guys were younger, but it fits basically perfectly now.

“It’s a promise ring.” You mumble, walking away to take off the armor and put away the sword. “It’s the closest thing to a wedding ring I could get. And besides, red is my favorite color, the jem is red. It’s basically me, in a ring.” “I didn’t understand a single thing you just said.”

Clarisse sighs, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind the same way she did your first day at camp- though this time she doesn’t lift you up. “Sorry. Let me summarize. You’re my wife, and that is your ring.” You chuckle, turning around in her arms and trying not to think about the way you’re so close you can feel her warm breath on your face. “Fine. I’m your wife.” She takes the win, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek before she makes her way out of the training grounds to go wash up for lunch.

This girl is gonna be the death of you.

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That night, Clarisse sneaks into the Hermes cabin. She’s used to sneaking out, but she’s never had a reason to sneak into this specific cabin and she almost bursts out laughing when she gets through the window and almost steps on a kid laying on a sleeping bag on the floor. 

She easily manages her way through the sleeping kids to get to your bunk in the corner, cringing every once and a while when floor boards creek. You’re awake, staring at the wall and you reach under your pillow to grab a dagger Annabeth gave you when someone puts a hand on your shoulder and tries to shake you away so you can hold it up against their neck.

“Why the hell do you have a knife to my throat?” Clarisse quietly squeaks out, and you sigh in relief before putting the weapon back under your pillow for safe keeping. “I just…I’m sorry.” You think about telling her about the nightmare you were having not even ten minutes ago, but it looks like she’s already aware of it as she sends you knowing eyes.

“You can make it up to me by following me.” One look into her pleading eyes is all you need to reluctantly agree, and she helps you out of the window and then onto her back so she can carry you to the surprise she set up in the forest.

The sight makes you want to grin and cry at the same time; it’s a picnic set on the cliff overlooking the waterfall you told her was your favorite part of camp, all your favorite foods from the outside world placed accordingly on the blanket. There are little lanterns placed all over, lighting up this specific part of the woods. You can clearly see the stars, one of your favorite things, and the cozy feeling of the date-like setting goes against the summer breeze of the night.

“So? What do you think?” Clarisse nervously asks as you look around in awe. “I….I love it Clar.” You reply, pulling her into a tight hug. “How’d you get all these foods?” You quest with a grin. She innocently shrugs, but she’s got a mischievous look in her eyes that only appears when she does something bad. She won’t tell you that she snuck out of camp the same way she snuck out of her cabin to go to the mortal world, sneaking back in a throwing herself into a bush when Mr. D almost caught her.

She sits down on the blanket, patting the spot next to her and then pulling you into her lap when you sit down. “This is so nice….but why?” “Why?” “Why’d you do it?”

Clarisse chuckles; “Because my wife deserves best.” There it is again, the phrase that brings a blush to your face no matter how many times you hear it. “Well, thank you.” She nods, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and taking a hesitant bite before humming in satisfaction. “That’s really good.”

You two spend the rest of the night talking and giggling as you cuddle up to her and eat the delicious foods, and by the end of the night you’re lying with your head in her lap as she runs her fingers through your hair. “One day,” She starts, leaning down to kiss your forehead before she continues speaking; “I’m gonna marry you for real.”

With a small laugh, you nod, staring into her brown eyes as you sigh. “I’m okay with that.” You whisper, and for a second it seems like she’s leaning down again. It’s proven she is when her lips connect with yours. Her lips are slightly chapped since she always forgets to put on chapstick before she leaves the cabin, but that doesn’t matter as she’s kissing you like she’s been starved for years. Technically, she has been.

She pulls away, watching with a nervous smile as you attempt to catch your breath and stare up at her in awe. “Was that-was that okay?” You slowly nod, sitting up and then turning to face her before you grab her face in your hands and kiss her once again. She seems surprised, but she quickly adapts as her hands move to your hips and firmly grip them.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day you agreed to be my wife.” She whispers as she pulls away and leans her forehead on your own. You giggle, giving her a quick kiss in between love sick giggles. “Me too.”

She begins to talk again, but the sound of hooves galloping near and a loud voice calling out, “Who's there?!” makes her panic. Chiron. You panic as well, and you both messily pick up the empty plates and blanket, shoving it all in the basket and taking your hand in the one that isn't holding the basket.

The galloping is getting closer, and you both begin to run back into the forest- on the way back to camp but still in the opposite direction of Chiron.

You both begin to laugh as you almost trip over a branch, and you have to bite your lip and hold a hand over Clarrise's mouth so Chiron won't hear. 

You eventually make it back to the cabins, and you both slow down to a light jog as you near the Hermes cabin. She brings you back to the still open window, and helps lift you up into the slightly cold room. You take off your shoes, and are about to wish her a goodnight and go to bed when you turn around to see her lips playfully puckered. 

You chuckle, walking back to the window and giving her a small peck on the lips. “Goodnight Clar. and thank you for a wonderful night.” She smiles. “It was only wonderful because you were there. Goodnight angel.” With that, she leaves towards her own cabin, and you're left staring at her leave with a love sick smile and look in your eyes.

At the edge of the forest, Chiron watches the sweet goodnight with a small smile. “Well I'll be damned….Clarisse La Rue is a softy.” He begins walking to his own cabin with a content sigh. “But they better not sneak out again.”

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[thegnomelord]

I love your monster au so much. It makes the monsterlover/fucker in me real happy. Sorry just wanted to share my appreciation.

I've been thinking too, how would you feel about writing a underwater sea creature reader? (No pressure but I hope this idea tickles your fancy so I'll infodump my ideas on you) They can live on land and stuff but drag their prospective mate into a deep underwater ravine when they want to mate. Idk how to describe it, like I have an idea in my head of what the creature's traits would be but I can't find a way to put it into words.

I'm going to give it a try though, (excuse the fact it won't make much sense, my thoughts jump around a lot. But I'll try and make it coherent.) Basically, my mind went to underwater dragons. So with most of the traits that you wrote for dragons, like the purring and the tails intertwining (and the sharing of scales). But I was thinking without wings, because you don't need them underwater. But we glow in the dark, because we are deepsea creatures we have adapted to become bioluminescent. Oh and also we have gills and stuff still when we are on land.

Idk if this is confusing or just something you don't want to write but I was hoping for you to include a more sfw part with the mating dance maybe and then then an actual nsfw part (dom top male reader??)

But at the end of the day this is just a suggestion and it's up to you if you want to write it or not. (If you do write it can it be with ghost or gaz?? gaz giving us shiny things but sea related, like shells? and/or ghost struggling through knowing how to court us. Both of them being confused of what to do because we are a new type of dragon that not many people knew existed and our courting traditions are mostly unknown??

Okay this is cool and it tickles my brain of having just this big fucking monster that's gigantic due to deep sea gigantism :D, I also picked Gaz cause I like the sea/sky duality.

CW:NSFW, subbot gaz, domtop Mreader, quick and rough

When you first joined the taskforce, Gaz didn't know what to expect. Your species had been newly discovered, barely any information about you, but something about you put some ancient part of his mind on edge, ants nipping on the sinew of his wings until his body begged to return to the safety of the sky.

First time he met you, you reminded him less of a dragon and more of a Leviathan — something that dwelled where the light didn't reach, far too big than anything should be allowed to be, bright bioluminescent markings shimmering against dark scales to lure prey into crushing jaws filled with sharp crooked teeth, horns like spears to pin down what couldn't fit in your maw, powerful legs built to swim and breach the surface of the water to catch unaware flyers like Gaz just to pull them down into the abyss to be devoured.

He would have been more. . . unsettled by you had you not been so nice.

You towered over him even in your mostly human form, but you were a gentle giant, happy to let him use you as a perch and humming along as he talks, joining in on his and Johnny's pranks and hiding them when Price eventually catches them.

And Gaz doesn't even notice when your presence no longer makes his feathers puff up, the shadow you cast over him now warm and welcoming after all the times you'd been a meat shield for him. He tils his head back to catch sight of your eyes as he leans back, soft feathers rubbing against your clothes, "Hey there big man." Gaz smiled.

You hum, your hand coming to loosely hold his hip, holding the pretty thing close to you. "Hi." You purr, the small biolights along your body flickering in seemingly random patterns, but nothing about them was random to you or your kin, your interest in him painfully obvious.

But to your dismay Gaz doesn't understand, just snorts at your colorful display. "What's got you in a good mood today?" He asks, eyes tracing the dancing lights, that instinctual bird part of his mind liking the sight, and the low rumble of your voice, and just. . . being near you.

You blink, "You," You say simply, your people aren't ones to mince words.

Gaz can feel his body heat up at your declaration, feathers puffing up, but strikes down any thoughts about you before they turn inappropriate and cause him to coo at you. "Fine, keep yer secrets." He huffs and gets out of your hold, wings stretching out to purposely show off his feathers as he walks away, tail feathers flickering.

He can feel your eyes follow after him, hummingbirds pecking at his spine and he doesn't know if he should feel that way. And all you can think of is how you could drag your pretty bird down into the abyss without clipping his wings.

. . .

Gaz watches you lazily swim around the lake near their current base in your real form, "Havin' a nice soak in there Nessie?" He asks as he walks the short pier and sits down, dipping his feet in the water as his wings spread out lazily behind him.

A low rumble leaves you like a distorted whale song, your large form pushing through the water like a submarine cutting through the ice. "Nessie?" You ask as swim over to him, "Who's that?"

"Never mind about that," Kyle grins, his eyes roaming along your large form as the biolights flicker once again in that specific pattern that means nothing to him but everything to you. "You look happy."

You shrug, "It's nice to be back in the water." Without a word you heave yourself out of the water and onto the pier, large hands clutching the wood on either side of him, a deep purr rumbling in your chest at how close he is to you now. "Did you need something?" You ask, biolights flickering seductively.

Kyle swallows drily, eyes going wide as he registers you loom over him, can smell the sea and salt still clinging to your scales, something other than fear buzzing down his spine from how close your dangerous teeth are to him. "Oh, right, uh," He clears his throat to clear the molasses clinging to it, wings spreading out in a way that got his feathers shining in the setting sun as he reached into his pocket.

"I, um. . . I got you this." He said, holding out the seashell he'd found for you. His breath caught in his throat as you looked at it, hoping you liked it; he'd spent hours polishing it until it was shining, the colors vibrant and every single scratch buffed out.

"Thank you," You rumbled and took the seashell into your hand. Your pupils dilated, a very pleased purr rumbling in your chest — oh, he was so thoughtful, such a good mate to bring a rare treat for you.

Kyle felt like a bloody peacock at the way his wings spread out, but he couldn't care less about his posturing when you accepted his gift, his heart fluttering like butterflies in a jar.

Then you ate it.

You ate his gift.

His heart shatters like the seashell between your fangs, wings dropping like a rock, never having expected to be rejected like that. "I- what- why did- if you-" He couldn't even form words to say what he wanted, pressing a hand to his face in an attempt to hide the way his eyes prickled with vestiges of tears.

Unfortunately for him, you notice. "Oh, little bird, what's wrong?" Your voice is soothing, biolights pulsing in a slow and calming way as you gently pry his hand from his face, looking into his eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

Kyle doesn't look you in the eyes, doesn't know what the hell to feel right now, the words spewing out of his mouth before he could control them. "Why would you do that!" He hisses.

You tilt your head. "You gifted it to me." You say like it's supposed to explain everything, reaching up to cup his cheek, your clawed hand cold and wet against his skin. "It was very good." You lean in closer, a deep purr rumbling in your throat, your long tail moving to curl around his leg.

Kyle sucks in a sharp breath as you push you loom over him your hands on either sides of him keeping him in place, feeling himself slowly lay back as you creep over him onto the pier, heart drumming in his chest. "Wh-what?"

You snort, eyes glowing like anglerfish lures, lowering your head down to lick a stripe up his neck, claws raking down his front. "Let me show you my appreciation, yes?"

Kyle shivers at the sensation of your teeth against his throat, body heating up, your scent — of sea and salt and something very very old — invading his nose, an involuntary chirp escaping his chest. "Ah, yeah, sure just-" Kyle yelps as your claws cut through his clothes, wings quivering as they're pressed against the wooden pier behind him.

"Relax little bird," You coo softly, licking around his lips in what counts as a kiss for you when your maw is filled with vicious teeth, tongue trailing down to lick up the drops of his salty sweat. "I'll be gentle."

And gentle you are; softly licking up the blood after your fangs had left marks on his skin, sharp claws holding his trembling hips tenderly as your rough tongue worms inside him, soft purrs and deep rumbles vibrating your tongue against his prostate until he's sobbing, his hands clutching your horns to hold your head closer as his cock leaks a puddle of pre onto his abdomen.

He whines when you continue stretching him with your tongue, "Please, mate, just-" Kyle sucks in a sharp breath as your tongue once again grazes his prostate, thighs clenching around your head. "-just please fuck me already! I can't- I'm not going to-"

Kyle sobs with joy and anguish when you pull your tongue out, the slimy appendage slithering back into your maw and leaving him painfully empty. "Alright, alright," You coo, moving up to drape your body over his, nuzzling your cheek against his as you line your hard cock with his stretched hole. "Relax,"

The tip of your cock breaching his puckered hole has Kyle sucking in a sharp breath, "Easier said than done mate," He chuckles, closing his eyes and just trying to focus on your scent and just you, groaning. Fuck, you're big in all aspects, his body clenching down like a vice before relaxing enough for you to slowly push further, spreading his walls wide until you're fully inside him, your hips resting against his.

"There you go," You purr, letting Kyle adjust as you nibble on his neck, biolights flickering happily when he rocks his hips into yours. "Taking me so well,"

Gaz can feel his body heat up at your words, throwing his head back when you rock your hips, cock hard and heavy inside him, dragging against his walls with every minute movement that has him panting and whining, his legs crossing behind your back to pull your hips closer every time you pull out.

The world escapes your notice, all your attention fully on him as you focus on mating him, pulling needy desperate sounds from Kyle's lips, your large hand gently stroking his leaking dick as your cock rubs against his prostate, your unhurried pace making him cum again and again and again until he's a moaning boneless mess by the time you cum inside him.

[letshavedeernnertogether]

Sleepyhead, part two

the plot is: you have nightmares and can't sleep because of it, luckly alastor knows how to help you.

part one, part two, part three

tw: none, just keep on being cute and sweet

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

You were lying in bed on your back pulling the blanket right up to your chin. Your eyes were wide open, and you gazed into the darkness. The living shadows swirled around your room. They were the uncontrolled tentacles made of darkness, that haunted you every night.

Every time you went to bed and turned off the light, the moment when you almost fell asleep, the dark figures came out and tried to catch you. You opened your eyes, followed their stirs and couldn't move. You perspired profusely, you hardly breathed, and you felt like your own body floated above the bed, as if your spirit left your shell.

The most frightening thing was the feeling, that they were real. They were not a dream. It seemed so to you, because you never noticed, when you fell asleep and began to dream, and also you didn’t notice, when you woke up. Morning came, and the eerie shadows receded, and only then you could fall asleep. But every night they returned again.

These tentacles never touched you, but you were afraid to leave your bed, thinking that it was the only refuge. You knew that if they grabbed you, they wouldn’t let you go, they would strangle you, and you'd become a shadow like them. They were hungry and hated those who could live in the light of day.

Light?

You were lying in bed sweating with fear. The blanket pressed on you like the sky on the shoulders of Atlas, and the time seemed stopped. It seemed the morning would never come. Morning...

Suddenly you thought about the light. These dark creatures never came during daylight hours. They were probably afraid of the light.

A lamp stood on your bedside-table, but it was too far to reach. And you didn't want to make any moves to not get the figures dander up. But if you make a sudden harsh move... If you suddenly jump out of bed, get to the door, jerk it open, then a light must pour out from the corridor, which had never been extinguished there.

Taking a deep breath and mustering your courage up, you jumped out of bed, ran between the tentacles, that almost grabbed your ankles several times, and ran out into the hallway, slamming the door behind you.

You screamed out, when you pressed your back against the door and felt a push. They wanted to get to you. Were you still awake?

You dashed for the main hall, away from your room.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

When you were downstairs in the dim lit lobby, you heard a slowly jazz music coming from the kitchen. You headed for the sound, expecting to see there the man, who once lulled you with his song. Getting closer, you smelled something savoury. Your mouth filled with saliva.

When you entered the kitchen, Alastor was standing in front of the gas stove and cooking something. He took off his froak coat and worn a light red apron. His cane was placed nearby, and the music was coming out from it with a drowsy buzzing. He was softly humming the melody.

Alastor heard some movings behind him, when you sat down on a chair next to the table. His eares twitched, and he turned his head back. He looked at you in surprise,

"It's strange to see you awaken at the dead of night, my dear. Why aren't you in bed?"

You looked down, "Nightmares," You muttered sadly.

Alastor looked at the rice in the frying pan, reduced the heat and looked at you again.

"Why my dear!" He exclaimed, "You always sleep so sweet, I never thought you could have bad dreams."

"It's only at night," You yawned and continued still looking at your knees, "When the night comes, and everything sinks in the darkness, these shadows creep out of somewhere, and I can't fall asleep because of the fear..."

You were so tired and exhausted with this night. Being here, in the warm kitchen, filled with appetizing smell, when a softly slow jazz swirled around you and Alastor, made you fell into a light doze.

"Hmm," Said Alastor, "You said nightmares, but described it like reality."

"Because I don't understand what it is!"

Alastor heard that your voice began to break, and you lifted your hand to wipe a tear running down your cheek.

"I know I'm not dreaming when I see them, and moreover, they pushed the door after I left. I'm wondering how I managed to escape..."

Tears were running down your face, but you didn't sob. Tears left silver traces on your skin, but in the lighting of the kitchen they seemed bronze. Alastor thought how beautiful you were even in your sadness. But he liked you more with a soft smile on your face, when you slept near him.

Alastor took off the apron and came to you. You didn't see it, you just felt how he gently touched your face. His thumb wiped the tear from the corner of your eye. You looked at him. He held your face in his hands. His soft gaze awakened something inside of you. You didn't want anything but to stare in his big glowing eyes.

You licked your lips and said sniffing,

"I think your dinner is burning."

He raised his eyebrows, his lips formed a silent "O", and he went up to the gas stove.

When he turned away from you, you wiped the rest of your tears glading that Alastor couldn't see your blush as your skin was totally black.

He added some broth in the pan and stired the dish. Breathing in the savoury smell and listening to the music, you thought, why couldn't you fall asleep. The problem wasn't in your bed, you slept there well during the day. The darkness or the night? Well, it seemed more like true. And you thought that your helplessness to the shadows were stupid. But then you remembered how the narrow tentacles wriggled under your feet trying to seize you, when you slammed the door shut. They were moving under the door, and it didn't seem like they were actually afraid of electric light.

You flinched remembering it. But then you remembered how you had a nice sleep at night in the hotel. It was your first night and the night a week ago.

You couldn't say what was special in your first night, after when Alastor had taken you to your bedroom, as it was dark and you were alone as always. you didn't know the truth.

But last week you spent the whole evening with Angel in his room. You were talking about your lives for several hours and ate a lot of unhealthy snacks watching your favorite romantic comedy from when you were alive. You both laughted at stupid decisions of characters, and you both were touched by the same romantic scenes.

Leaning against Angel's shoulder, breathing in his sweet vanilla smell, you fell asleep. You woke up embraced by all his four arms in his bed, just where you fell asleep. In the morning, when Angel woke up, he said that you were too sweet and too cute to be disturbed, so he didn't woke you up. But he didn't say, why he hadn't carried you to your bedroom, and you didn't ask him about it.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

The darkness and loneliness might had been the reasons of you being haunted by the living nightmares.

Alastor looked at you again. He thought that the nightmares were another curse of you. What an unfortunate darling you were. You told him about your life and how you avoided reality for all your life. And now you were cursed to never get enough sleep, and at night you were surrounded by your own fears and couldn't even close your eyes. Too much for a poor thing like you, thought Aalstor.

"I can't sleep in the dark and I can't sleep alone," You said. It seemed to you, that you had a good sleep then, because Angel was by your side. Maybe these shadows were powerless when you were not alone?

"Alone?" He asked tilting his head.

You nodded.

"Hmmm," Alastor looked up thinking on something. You noticed that he'd already covered the frying pan with a lid. Now his dinner was slowly braised.

"Well, my dear," He said coming up to you, "it's a shame that a sleepyhead like you can't have enough sleep during the night, so she must sleep all day long depriving me of the opportunity to spend time with her. This cannot go on."

He gave you his hand.

"But your dinner?"

"Don't worry, Starry eyes," He said bending in his waist still giving his hand, "I can absent myself for a time. I just want to offer you something, it won't take long."

You took his hand and stood up. He pulled you closer to him, so your bodies touched. Three upper buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, and you blushed understanding that it was the first time you saw him being so informal.

"Hold on tighter, darling," He wispered in your ear, before you sank into the dark light.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

You opened your eyes to find yourself in the unfamiliar room. You pressed yourself close to Alastor, his hands were on your shoulder-blade. The wind from the window chilled you, and you cuddled closer up to him. You turned your head to look around and understood, that it wasn't the wind from the window. It was the wind from the forest. The place, where Alastor took you, was half room and half the woods. You both were standing in the room in dark red colors with dark wood furniture, and the other side of the room was a night forest. You heard rustling, chirring, twittering coming from it. It was actually real.

"Welcome to my room, darling," Said Alastor letting you out.

So, it was his room. Before any other thought came on your mind, Alastor placed his arm on your waist and led you to a bed, that was in the center of the room.

"What? What are you doing?" You stopped and looked at him.

"My dear, this place is the safest in the whole hotel, and even in whole hell, if I may say. Here no one and nothing will hurt you. None of your eerie fears will find you here." He carefully placed his arm on your shoulder. His static voice made goosebumps ran down your back. He turned you back to him and pointed at the bed with his cane, "This room, this bed are your refuge. You don't need to be afraid here."

You looked at the bed. How cozy, how warmly, how alluringly it looked. You yawned. What was the use of refusing? After crying your eyes were tired, you wanted to close them and fall asleep. The bed seemed just perfect. The room was warm, and the chill of the forest helped you not to feel too much hot.

You glanced at Alastor. You didn't mind using his bed at all, but if he offered it to you, where would he spend the night then?

"And what about you?" You asked.

"Oh, darling," He softly smiled at you, "I'm the exact antithesis of you. While you always want to sleep, I have insomnia."

"Ohh," You pronounced. "Poor thing," You thought, "It might be difficult not to sleep, and not to see dreams."

You turned to the bed and then turned to Alastor again. He looked at you expectantly.

You slowly climbed into bed. Bed linen was soft and it smelled like... It smelled like Alastor. It was the same scent as when he had pulled you closer to him, before you both faded away in his shadow and turned out here.

You lay your head on the pillow and sank in its softness. But it wasn't too soft. It was just perfect. Like all his bed. Like all his room. A smile spread across your face.

You turned on your right side to look at Alastor and thank him. But you didn't have time to say anything, because he wrapped you in the blanket like a child. He tucked the blanket in, so you wouldn't get cold. When he leaned lower over you to tuck the blanket behind you, you tilted your head in the way so your lips "accidentally" met his chin. He froze still leaning over you.

You were lying between his hands, his face was in two inches of yours. He saw a sly yet shy smile on you. He smiled back, and your heart skipped a beat. You thought how beautiful he was. Maybe even too beautiful. You could drown in his crimson gleaming eyes, that hypnotized you.

Very slowly Alastor lifted his head to leave a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Goodnight, my love," He wispered.

You didn't open your eyes still feeling his lips on your forehead, and only when you heard a rustling, you opened your eyes and turned to the right. Alastor had just disappeared in the shadow.

Did he call you love?

You blushed so bright, that if there was anyone in the room, they would had seen the explosion of the supernovae on your cheeks.

It was just like in your best dreams.

You made yourself more comfortable still smiling because of the sudden tenderness of Alastor. You breathed in the smell of bed linen. It savoured with his astringent cologne, with fur and a little bit of smoke, because of the fireplace opposite the bed. You thought, this was what home smelled like.

You were lying with your eyes closed waiting for sleep to come. Firewood softly crackled, crickets chirred in the woods. Suddenly a radio on the piano turned on, and you heard a sweet female voice. The radio played quietly, and the singer's voice sank in static. You noticed that this buzzing of the radio was a comfortable sound for you, as it brought drowsiness to you.

♪ Night winds seem to have gone to rest,

Two eyes, brightly with love are gleaming ♪

You heard it through the somnolence and smiled.

The radio kept on playing quietly until you fell asleep in the room, that was yours now...

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Alastor returned to the kitchen. His dinner was already done. He turned off the fire, mixed the dish and put some in a plate. The rest of the dish he put off in a basin and left it to cool, so that he could put it in the fridge later.

Usually Alastor didn't think about something secondary during a meal enjoying the food. But this time he couldn't help think about Sleepyhead. He remembered how she said, that she couldn't sleep alone. Could it be that all this time she was tormented by nightmares and did not sleep? Alastor remembered how he carried this tiny demon to her room at the first night. And how he stayed by her for all night long and watch her sleeping. She seemed had a very pleasant dream then. She always looked just as cute when she slept during the day, leaning on his shoulder.

Now he didn't even want to leave her alone in the bedroom. But he thought, that she might feel herself uncomfortable, if he stayed next to her and watched her until she fell asleep. Moreover he was extremely hungry. For the whole day he couldn't put something in his mouth, and now he was ravenous, so ravenous he couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't suddenly eat her. After all she smelled very good.

Alastor raised his eyebrows in surprise, when his staff turned on the music. His hand with a fork froze on halfway to his mouth. From the staff a woman sang a lovely song. Alastor finished his dinner, rested his head on the hand and listened.

This singer was famous when Alastor was alive, but he never took a great interest in her. But now he liked the song and the voice.

♪ Come to my arms, my dear one,

my sweetheart, my own ♪

Alastor stood up and put on his froak coat. With a snap of his fingers the dirty plate became clean and it came in the kitchen cabinet.

♪ Kind night, bringing you nearer,

dearer and dearer ♪

Alastor beat the ground with the cane and the music stopped.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

When Alastor came to the bedroom it was already deep night. He saw you wrapped in the blanket, lying facing the forest. He came up to bed and heard your softly breathing. Alastor made the lights dimmer and, coming to the other side of bed, his clothes changed into the satin dark red pajamas.

Alastor saw a sweet smile on your face. You brought your hands to the face squeezing the edge of the blanket in your fists. You looked like a little doe, so small and innocent. You curled up, and Alastor took out a woollen blanket from a commode. He climbed into bed and covered you with the wool.

"Alastor..." You murmured in sleep.

He froze. He heard millions times before, how you talked in your sleep, but you'd never talked about him. Hearing his name on your soft moist lips was more than he could stand. His heart beat faster, and he felt ache in his stomach. You were so close to him, he felt your milky scent and felt your breath on his lips.

You stretched out your hands and embraced him. He fell next to you on the blanket. You wispered his name again, and his heart melted.

"You'll never go back to your bed, dear," He wispered buring himself in your fluffy hair and embracing you. He placed a kiss on your crown, and you smiled.

Alastor yawned. How strange, he never felt drowse lying in bed, but when he was next to you, felt your warmth and heartbeat...

He didn't notice how he fell asleep, with his head resting on yours, which you laid on his chest.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

invitation for deerner: @serapinaxx @noraunor

p.s.

sorry for it taking so long, another busy week at university, and now i feel like Sleepyhead herself hahaha

i hope you liked the part two and i wish you all sweet healthy sleep and kind fluffy dreams ♡ ♡ ♡

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Pyroclasmic Slooch (Sulucina vulcanis)

Debut: Pikmin 3

I think Pyroclasmic Slooch has one of the best names of any Pikmin creature! This is the one I break out if I ever need to explain what a Pikmin name feels like. A large scientific jargon-y sounding word, followed by a single silly little syllable it's perfect! And it IS meaningful, because Pyroclasmic is only one letter away from Pyroclastic, as in pyroclastic flow, a hot volcanic gas/rock current. And Slooch is just, look at this thing! It's what "slooch" looks like! Both as a noun AND a verb!

Fire in video game and monster design is usually pretty boring to me, just for how common it is. I get it, since it is pretty much the most "yeowch! don't touch" thing everyone is familiar with, but I have had enough of Charizardlikes bloating my media! Thank goodness, then, for Pikmin, which implements "conventional" elemental properties into fun, pseudoscientific speculative creatures! It may often be a big load of nonsense, but they explain the nonsense so confidently. Yeah alright. Whatever you say! Maybe a slug could be on fire.

Hello Slooch! What a nice smile you have, framed by your oral tentacles! I wonder if Pyroclasmic Slooch's eyes are useful at all. A regular slug's eyes are mostly just for sensing light and dark, but that doesn't seem practical for a creature that makes its own light that would constantly be in view! Just to be safe, you should give this Slooch a thumbs up, in case it can indeed see you! (computer screen is a real portal to another world where pretend creatures live)

So yeah, Pyroclasmic Slooch is a slug on fire, or maybe a snail whose shell IS fire. It doesn't really matter, either way, the DESIGN is fire! The vibrant orangish stripes on its black body evoke flowing and cooling lava! Lava joke: I bet it was a real "aa moment" when they came up with that design quirk!

As much as I love Pyroclasmic Slooch, it is a wild animal! And it will try to eat the min that you picked, with its funny blue tongue! Louie, everyone's favorite menace Louie, recommends cooking this tongue and no other part of the creature. Would You Eat? I wouldn't, but I wouldn't judge you for doing it. If you have plenty of Red Pikmin, though, their fire immunity makes Slooches very easy to deal with.

You know, real slugs like mold! Do you think Pyroclasmic Slooch likes mold? Maybe it could be friends, with mold. Let's introduce them!

Name: Moldy Slooch (Parasitus pseudofungi elasticis hostus)

Debut: Pikmin 4

Hooray! Now they're inseparable! You may notice that Moldy Slooch's scientific name differs greatly from that of Pyroclasmic Slooch, and that is because the Slooch is no longer in control. It is being puppeted by a fungus! Its nervous system and slime organs have been entirely taken over. Isn't that nice? Now the Slooch doesn't have to do any work, because the fungus does all of that for it! This slug can just relax for the rest of its life, because it is not dead! A dried-up corpse wouldn't be useful a very good friend, would it? In fact, if the Moldy Slooch does die, it can be instantly revived by a phallic, yet kindly Toxstool! The gift of eternal life!

Moldy Slooch's description by Dalmo (the animal enthusiast who could have been writing for this blog the whole time and you would be none the wiser includes the incredible line "Slugga slugga choo choo! Here comes the fungal spore train." So fun! Whee! I want to ride the train!

Moldy Slooch is really the best friend someone could ask for. After I met it in person, and it introduced me to Toxstool, I've never felt better! So what are you waiting for, fellow living animals? Come visit our damp cave sometime! You are always welcome :)

[yandere-class-1a]

Class 1a as mermaids and mermaid and reader as a human-like one day reader finds a trapped mermaid and they save them and now that mermaids tell the other mermaids about the humans and their will to meet the reader

Author Note: I tired my best to work on this and keep it from going to far of track so I really hope you like it. I actually headcanoned what each on of their tails would look like so if you want that just send in another ask! It's perfectly fine if you have your own ideas though ♡

On a warm summer night, as the moon cast its gentle glow upon the beach and the wind sung a sweet lullaby, you some how found yourselves tossing and turning, unable to drift of into your dream world for the third time this week. Frustrated, you decided to go on a late-night stroll along the deserted shoreline of the pink sand beach. You weren't sure the actual name, maybe it was the romantic settings or probably the pink tinted sand, but most people called it Soulmates Beach.

As you walked along the shore line and in the moons soft glow, the rhythmic crashing of the waves provided a soothing soundtrack to your thoughts. Almost forgetting your frustration at not being able to sleep you become lost in the beauty of the night. That was until your eyes caught sight of something peculiar in the water. A glimmering pink and yellow tail, trapped in a net, struggled against the unforgiving holds of captivity.

You paused for a second thinking it might be a large fish if some kind. However you quickly dashed towards the thrashing net as you saw a human arm hand grab at the net from the inside. To your amazement you discovered it was a living breathing mermaid. You freeze for a second once again. No way is that a real mermaid, you thought to yourself, it's every kids dream to meet some type of mystic creature! However you quickly snap out of it once you hear a distressed chirp come from Mina.

It took you a few minutes and using a shell as a knife but you finally manage to free her from the entanglement. Grateful and relieved Mina let out a small thank you purr before swimming deep into the ocean and returning to her mermaid pack. The news spread like wildfire among the members of her mer-pack, each one if them instantly amazed by the very idea of a human saving a mermaid.

Driven by a mix of curiosity and thankfulness at saving Mina, they all set their sights on meeting the stunning human that mina had told them so much about. They didn't even know you, heck Mina was the only one that hhad even seen you, and yet they all felt some sorta warm and fuzzy feeling when one of them would mention you. They had all decide to name you Shinning Star. They thought it was perfectly fitting as you lit up their worlds just by being mentioned.

Days later, the encounter with Mina still planted deeply in your brain, you returned to the beach. You weren't expecting to see her again, after all if you had been caught by humans you would be pretty scared to come back up to the surface so you don'treally blame her. You sit at the edge of the beach, on a small stone that was oddly shaped like a chair. You gently start to hum a song as you close your eyes.

After a few minutes of sitting there with your eyes closed you are met with a loud and continuous splashing sound accompanied by small chirps. Your eyes open faster than you ever thought they could, and there is a absaloutly amazing sight.

Emerging from the depths of the beutifull blue ocean are not one, not two, no not even three, but nineteen whole mer-people. All of their beutifull tails glinting under the sunlight. With eager eyes they gently call for you to come close to them. You knew it was risky but you are absaloutly amazed by what your seeing, so without thinking you gently walk over to them and smile a amazed smile at them. Your hands are fidgeting from how excited you are at this opportunity.

Izuku is the first to greet you. His tail is a beutifull emerald green with freckles of red and white. He flicked it happily as you step closer. In the excitedness he let's out tons of happy chirps and goes to lean forward to touch you. Unlucky for him he was as far as the water would let him go and he face planted in the sand. You rush over to him and check on him.

Izuku thinks it's absaloutly adorable, your in the presence of real life merpeople and your worried that he got a little sand in his eye. He chirps happily and snuggles his head gently into your stomach, a sign of love and respect in mermaid body language, not like you know that though. You chuckle as Izuku hops up and turns to the rest of the mer-pack before chirping out somthing unreadable to humans. They all greet you one by one.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turn into months you and the group of mer-people forged a unique bond. You all had a absaloute blast, even though somtimes it seemd asif they never wanted you to leave. Mer-pack 1-A, once captivated by your heroism, now found themselves captivated by your very presence.

With each passing day, their heart grew fonder for you. Their once pure curiosity and admiration for you blossoming into something more. In your company they all found found acceptance, understanding, and a love stronger than anything they had ever felt before.

[crow-n-tell]

I had a lot of trouble with this lil guy. Weird lil music men aren't easy to shift over when their body's are so... Weird. Still, here! Hermit Crab Music Men!

If you wanna see what went on in my mind for this come right this way...

So a lil info about these boys! These lil music men have adapted to live in the safe shallows, as well as some undersea areas if need be - having two different palettes which match... you've probably guessed by the additions of orange in the music mans usual pastels

Acid mushrooms! I realized as I was trying to get it all sorted that they are a nearly identical color scheme so it worked out that their colors are a little wacky. Not that real life crabs aren't a bit audacious in their colorings too. Actually the deep sea version of this guy is based off a purple crab called the Palawan Purple Crab who comes from the Philippines.

Their colors are more so for other crabs of their species to recognize them, or so I've read, but in this particular scenario it suits our lil music man as a sort of camouflage too.

Aside from it being a sort of camouflage, it also gives you insight into these lil guys diet. Most of what (I really need to come up with a name for these guys, but all I keep thinking of is crab rangboom. like crab rangoon? but a sound pun.) they eat are poisonous, which has directly affected how predators view them. Yea see, there are certain families of crabs which are toxic only because they are eating things that should not be eaten.

So music men don't have a lot of predators, other than those who have natural immunities to things like that... ahem, moon.

I imagine that the crabs closer to the surface tend to a little smaller than knee high for an average height human, where as deeper sea versions of them are a lot bigger... Like... I DONT KNOW, Leviathan big? After all these are just lil guys, lets not forget about the big music man!

Next topic is... oh yeah!

Seismic communication is basically communication through vibrations. Not just through the water, actually it's used by spiders which we can all sort of agree is what the OG music boys are. Spiders use seismic communication when it comes to their webs in particular, able to sense through vibrations in their web if they've captured prey.

Similarly a lot of sea creatures use vibrations as means of communication. Not only in the way spiders do, but sensing out prey; but by avoiding predators or talking to each other. Crabs in particular use all three, but in terms of communication to one another its been noted they will rub their legs together like crickets to talk to other crabs.

For our lil crabby boys, their claws are fashioned sort of like the the original music man has. Hollowed out in the center, they are able to click their lil crab claws together to make sounds and vibrations which distress and confuse their prey long enough to snatch em up and eat em.

Of course they also have the very on brand to SB behavior of just being a literal face hugger if they come out of the shell.

m...mmmmm..... no... noo....ooo.......

I guess the only thing left to mention is his lil

Barnacles!

I struggled with how i'd give this lil guy a top hat. Then. I remember how WEIRD barnacles are. You see a lot of barnacles that look a lil something like this:

But they come in many variations!

And I hate all of them! they are great for designs, helpful in this case, but I get nauseous when looking at them and I can't even begin to understand why.

Sorry if my adhd really popped out on this one, I am actually holding back some of the mostly irrelevant information about colors and uh, other stuff.

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 6

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

..............................................

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, König x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains blood and gore, violence, injury, some body horror, description of grotesque creatures, some monster smut (light), and some dubcon (lightly). Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

......................................................

Author's Note

This part unveils a new evil!

There's a new threat, but your old friends are close by. Who knows what happens after...

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

.................................

Like a faded picture that has been imprisoned in the depths of a drawer for decades, the vision is projected as faintly on the canvases of your eyelids. As if it were just a vision born on the plastic soil of a dream, nothing else, the memory that takes shape in your head seems so unbelievable. This horrible place has been holding you in its embrace hot with the stench of death for so long, that the images left from the real world seem to your brain like the remnants of a life that never existed. However, you're sure that the melodious children's laughter ringing in your ears is real, and you know that it belongs to someone who was once important to you. In this friendly fantasy world, there is no decay and no blood, only the inviting rays of the sun, which guide you to the surface with warm fingers, as you frolic under the cool foams, mimicking a mermaid. You paddle nimbly with your little hands as the princess of the secret underwater realm, and each tiny shell and grain of sand greets you as a subject of your kingdom as you swim above them. And when someone pulls you out of your adventure and lifts you back into the air, warm from the summer heat, you sulk and argue, trying to get free, but whoever the stranger is, they only respond with amused laughter. And your heart almost sinks at the fact that only blurred spots dance in front of your eyes when you look up at the figure who kisses the top of your little head and hugs you so tenderly. Because you know you should know her, but nothing breaks through the darkness in your skull apart from the feeling of loss that gnaws at your insides.

Although for a moment you don't understand why your own mind is turning against you, but even your frozen shock is penetrated by a faint recognition, that there is a reason why this is exactly the memory that arose in you after the many horrors you experienced. And it seems a very cruel trick from your subconscious that now, when an unknown force drags you deeper and deeper toward the bottomless pits of the icy water, it calls up this exact one out of the many mementos slowly fading to nothingness. Because you know that now the sun-tanned hand won't rush to your aid to save you from the frosty, otherworldly empire that is drawing you closer and closer to its gate made of torn bodies with each passing second.

And as if you just woke up from an unwanted slumber, you realize that no matter how much you want to linger on the soft lap of soothing reminders of the past, and no matter how much all your instincts protest against letting the false security of the images dancing on your eyelids slip away, you have other things to do. Oh, how easy it would be to let it end like this, rocking in the heavy arms of the cool water, finally die without rough hands trying to bask in the warmth of your still living organs. But you have work to do. And this ultimately breaks your body out of the shock injected into you by the unknown attacker, which pulled you under the surface, heavy with rot and death.

As soon as your resolve finally pushes you back from the temptation of the soft, shapeless drifting of unconsciousness, the shortness of breath tightening your chest reaches your senses, and your mouth opens in a desperate gasp before you can stop the reflexive movement. And as the cold water breaks through your lips and you feel the musty taste of mud on your tongue, your jaw snaps shut with such alarmed speed that you swear that you feel your teeth cracking. However, a stray sip of water that has gone astray still finds its way into your trachea, and as it pushes along the soft tissues like a thousand tiny blades, you would instinctively start to cough, but you're only able to ease the pressure of a force squeezing your ribs for a few pathetic seconds.

Your eyes open in fear, and you can see the taunting invitation of the moon's pale light even through the sting of the water blurring your vision, and you can almost feel how mockingly the silvery beams laugh at your torment. And as you become aware of with what frightening certainty the last faintly twinkling trace of the starry sky starts to disappear, your brain catches up with the facts, and even through the lack of oxygen, you understand painfully fast that the fragile thread of your life will soon come to a pitiful end and break under the cruel weight of the waves gathering above you. And because of this, your body, for the umpteenth time during the night, surges you towards action, and as the cocktail of stress hormones in your veins revives, you try to propel yourself upwards with almost instinctive movements. But no matter how you paddle with your hands, just as your legs would also join in the frantic work, the alien creature wrapped around your ankle tightens its grip even more, and the suppressed scream that is born in your lungs only echoes in your skull, when you feel how cruelly its spikes drill into your bruised flesh. You can sense, quite horrified, how the poison, similar to liquid fire, creeps through the boundary of the skin and muscles pulsing with agony. And you know that whatever this formless beast tries to inject into your body, soon it will help tip you back into oblivion so that you allow yourself to be driven into the predator's waiting claws with a willing daze.

Your hands rush towards the wretched monster holding your feet captive, and even you're surprised when you grab hold of the sleek extensions of a seaweed-like plant. And even though the army of thorns rising from the slippery tissue cut into your palm, you don't care about how the suffering radiates through your arm like a lightning strike, instead, gritting your teeth, you try to loosen your shackles, because it's only a matter of time before your luck runs out and you're back in that goddamn car again. Crimson drops of blood emerge like snakes from under the wounded skin, and the more fiercely you fight with the cursed seaweed, the cerise fluid surrounds you like a vague mist, casting your figure, wild from the fury of the struggle, into the midst of blood-red clouds.

All your nerves are occupied by the heat of your battle, because you feel it all too well how the merciless iron fist around your chest is closing, as if someone had thrown you into a press, and the metal plates weighing on you were trying to slowly drive your ribs into the living flesh. And you would swear that even through the gurgle of liquid against your eardrums, you can hear the horrible, almost insidious snapping of the hair-thin cracks running down your bones, as if a heavy boot were treading on freshly fallen branches.

But even through your despair, it occurs to you how strange it is that the crackles travel into your ears through the roar of the water so clearly, even though you know that nothing but the sound of bubbles could penetrate the chaos created by your panic. And when you catch a pale spot moving from the corner of your eye, like an uncertain vision dancing on the edge of your consciousness, you stop chasing your release for a minute. First, through the hazy clouds cast by your blood, you see a broken form unfolding, looking more like the dried remains of a wind-twisted and battered tree than anything else. However, when the tormented figure seems to be approaching, and the scarlet veil finally fades due to your immobility, then the shock cuts through even the tension of air that is stuck in your throat. Because your brain, fighting with hypoxia, understands that the creature is swimming closer to you with measured laziness, which may have previously feasted on the disintegrating corpses washed to the surface.

A pair of milky white eyes take shape from the dark, endless void with an almost otherworldly light, and the hunger looming in them paints the mouth so dreadful, which stretches into an impossibly wide snarl with cruel joy when it discovers in you its prey frozen in fear. As if the corners of its mouth were trying to get around the elongated head, splitting the dry, ashy skin on its skull like grotesque cuts. Yet, your eyes are immediately drawn to the pale gums and the sharp teeth protruding from them, stained a dirty brown by the rotting pieces of meat sitting on them. And as the twisted, thin body floats closer, a series of dim, tormented blots appear behind it, like an army of faithful shadows, which absorb the rays of moonlight piercing the water, bringing an ominous night to the desolate realm of the lake.

And it doesn't take much time, just a mere fleeting second, and you become sure that you have to flee, because these horrible devilish beings will clean the pliant network of muscles and tendons from your bones before suffocation has a chance to push you into the saving ignorance of unconsciousness. That's why the fierceness of survival awakens in you anew, and even you yourself can't believe the power that terror stirs in you, when you almost tear the tentacles of the stubborn seaweed from you, and the adrenaline that settles on your nerves doesn't allow the pain caused by the attack of the thorns stabbing into your palm to reach you. And if you'd have time, you would burst into tears of joy when the damned plant finally releases your ankle, but you have no time to be relieved, because you see the cautious advance of the distorted beasts squirming in the corner of your eyes, and you can feel the small waves on your skin that their excitedly grinding teeth create.

You're almost desperately try to swim towards the surface, and although the force of the pressure gnawing at your insides increases with each hasty movement, and small black spots slowly crawl into your field of vision, you don't care about the agony that crushes the soft tissues of your internal organs. When your hand finally breaks through the mirror-smooth border of the lake's surface for the first time, and your fingers are caressed by the prickle of the cold night air, then all the suffering that has tried to push you into the silky lap of another death disappears. And perhaps you've never been so happy to see the moon sprawled out like a divine being in the middle of this imaginary world, and you're not at all bothered by the sardonic glee with which its sparkling, silvery gaze follows how you begin to swallow the life-giving oxygen like a pitiful fish on dry land. Although you forcefully cough out the remnants of the water that have strayed into your airways, as soon as the first sip of air fills your chest aching with burning stinging, and the specks squirming in front of your eyes vanish, you have the strength to focus on the way out. And you know that you don't have time to hesitate any longer, because you can see the moving outline of the unknown monsters gathering below you.

You run your gaze along the landscape shrouded in dreadful stillness, and you feel your stomach flutter with gratitude when you discover how seductively close the line of the shallow shore stretches behind you. You only wildly hope that you're able to outrun these horrible creatures, as you put each of your tired limbs to work and start swimming without any delay, because it only takes one of these awful beings to catch you, and your remains will be reduced to tiny crumbs of bones and viscera. And despite the fact that you've met your end countless times, you know that each of your deaths would pale in comparison to being torn to pieces alive by these infernal abominations. Perhaps this is the motivation that breaks through the last barrier in your consciousness and helps to get your body to move with an unprecedented urgency, and this is what dulls the ear-splitting scream-like noise of the frenzy unfolding behind you.

The few minutes seem like millennia until you finally reach the swampy ground, and you stumble to your feet, yanking your shoes from the mud's stubborn grip with an angry cry as you clumsily drag yourself ashore. And as you finally make it to the edge of the wet sand, you drop to your knees, panting, allowing yourself a few meager seconds to rest before you're forced to run again from the evils that stalk you. Because you’re sure that whatever the tentacled creature was, it's still lurking in the depths of the abyss, and the two murderers can also be breathing down your neck thanks to the terrible sidequest you've fallen into. Almost instinctively, your hand sinks into the pocket of the soaked pants, and when you find the disconcertingly untouched map, you feel a heavy weight lift off your heart. All you have to do is to lie low a bit, and then calmly set off to look for the next clue, which can finally get you out of this ever-deepening madness.

But when that bone-shaking scream blasts into the silence of the night once again, you wince reflexively, like a startled animal that has finally realized that the predator will soon wrap its foul-smelling jaws around its neck. And although by now you should have gotten used to the fact that this goddamn place always lulls you into a mirage-like illusion of tranquility with the promise of a moment of ease, only to avenge its mercy all the more cruelly, yet now fear claws into your insides with the same force as if you were experiencing the terrors of this nightmare for the first time. Because when you glance back, you see the cloudy eyes break through from under the velvety, rippling veil of the water, like faintly looming ghosts that were vomited out by the mouth of the lake opening to the other world, to drag you with them into the pits of insatiable hell. One of the gruesome figures emerges from the waves rocking like liquid obsidian, and its sickly thin body straightens amid gut-wrenching crackles, as if every single bone would slide into place on top of another, crumbling under the withered tissue. But even though the beast looks ungainly, when its mouth full of sharp teeth opens and that high-pitched, whistle-like screech rushes out of it, you clamp your hands to your ears to try to dull the pain of the head-splitting sound, and with the pain piercing your eardrums, you realize that if you don't get away now, then those teeth will be painted ruby by your intestines next time.

However, before you can even move, the howling stops, and it takes a few moments for your mind to register what is happening. And when you discover that pair of glowing red eyes appear behind the enraged army of monsters, you wish these bastards would rip you apart alive, because maybe that would be a more pleasant death than what those smoldering irises have in store for you. Because there is such a hungry temper dancing in them that settles into the aggressive movement with which the stranger takes hold of the head of the menacing water creature about to attack, lifting it up into the air. His huge palm swallows its face green from algae, and the way his strong hand clenches around the abomination's skull seems almost pitifully simple, as if the wretch would be nothing more than a worm to be trampled upon. And you feel how your insides convulse with nausea when the stomach-turning crunch, with which the bones shatter into pieces, reaches your ear canals, and you desperately try to swallow back the bitter bile pooling in your mouth, as, after a wet splash, you see the soft, pink flesh spilling out between the hooded monster's long fingers.

It seems that this makes the other grotesque entities understand that something more terrifying than them has arrived, and they swim back to the protective shelter of the lake with such ready submission, as if they were trying to hide from the sight of their angry king, before he would erupt into a frightening rage. Through the dread slowly bubbling under your skin, you realize that maybe this man really is their ruler, since the horde of malformed forces living in the water turned against you after he first surfaced behind the sea of mutilated bodies. And perhaps there is some woefully obvious logic in this, since the game wouldn't have allowed this new location to appear if there hadn't been an even more horrible surprise waiting for you in it. When the last of his terrified subjects finally disappears, the giant starts towards you with lazy steps, and with each passing meter it becomes more and more noticeable, how the hard muscles weave through every terrible corner of his tall figure, and suddenly it becomes painfully clear to you that even the bloodthirsty shadows skulking in the forest would offer greater safety if you threw yourself into the arms of formless darkness now.

You try to get up shaking, because you understand that you're just hanging another death flag on your forehead with your hesitation, but as soon as you put weight on your wounded leg, a bitter pain shoots into your ankle, as if someone were trying to twist your foot around its axis with their bare hands, and from the stars dancing before your eyes, you helplessly let your knees buckle and help you fall back into the mud with a dull thud. And even though you try to relieve the persistent throbbing of the white-hot pain with the air inhaled through your nose, by the time your head clears enough to be able to get yourself to move, your body, trembling with agony, is already swallowed up by the all-consuming shadow of the man towering over you, and you know that you’re done for. You don't have to turn around to know that the hooded monster has finally stalked you down, because you can see the black blanket with which his large figure covers the ground decorated with small stones and plants washed up on the shore.

You don't even dare to move for a little bit, and you feel ridiculously stupid for offering yourself on a silver platter with your person immobilized by terror. As if you were willingly present your chest to him so that he can tear out your scared, beating heart, but you can't even twitch, because, with the pounding of your pulse in your ears, the fear spreads through every inch of your body, pushing every muscle fiber into paralyzed helplessness. And you feel how the blood freezes in your veins, when a terribly sweet scent snakes its way into your nose, like the smell of the juices of rotten fruit left under the rays of the summer sun, which at the same time enters your head and covers the frightened upheaval in your skull under some inexplicable hazy fog, and tightens your stomach in a death-tight grip. Although this strange smell brings you closer to dizziness, even in the confused daze that descends upon you, you can perfectly detect when an unknown creature glides onto your shoulder with a damp springiness, then slowly slithers its way up the graceful line of your neck like a curious leech. You're unable to restrain the reflexive movement that makes you cringe in alarm under the curious touch of the uninvited guest, and even though every fiber of your body turns to stone, you raise your eyes to the intruder despite the anxiety gathering in the pit of your stomach. And when you discover the pitch-black tentacle shining with a velvety light, and the purple suckers lined up on them, which breathe unsolicited kisses to the valley of your cleavage, you yelp and charge forward to try to crawl away from the monster with such panicked clumsiness, like a wounded wild animal trying to escape from the wolf with its last breath.

However, no matter how hard you try to break free, the fear raging in your body only leads to an uncoordinated shuffling, and you fall to your stomach on the fish-smelling ground, hissing from the ache that rips through your ankle. Your mouth fills with tiny grains of wet sand, but you don't mind the sour taste on your tongue, because it penetrates your terror much more clearly when you feel the searing heat of another body behind you, seeping through the thin material of your soaked t-shirt like a contagious disease. And you know that the end of the night has arrived, because when you see a giant hand sinking into the mud next to your head, you recognize, along with the horrible delusions flooding into your mind, that you already lost your chance of survival when you waded into that damn lake.

And the newcomer doesn't leave you a moment to recover from your shock, because you just got rid of the intrusion of the sticky organ, you feel the tentacle breaking under the battered fabric of your top, and you can't stop the terrified tremor that moves into your limbs in time, when the probing caress of the feelers passes through the tense arch of your spine. The tenderness with which he traces the small valley between your shoulder blades is almost stomach-churning, because you're aware that with one careless movement, he could unfurl the row of vertebrae from under your skin like fresh peas from their shell. And you know that he only wants to lull your vigilance with the fleeting gentleness with which the appendage moves towards the line of your ribs to try to migrate to your chest, like a lover who wants to explore the lush curves of his beloved's body. And your brain, stuck in the fear of death, is relieved a little when the sleek arm finds an obstacle in the moldy ground, but the small joy that takes hold in you is pitifully short-lived, because your attacker only grabs your hips with a frustrated grunt and pulls you up with such light carelessness, which you wouldn't be able to fight even if the horrors of the night didn't weigh on your every cell like a leaden blanket. And as his fingers sink into the soft flesh, you feel that following the touch of restrained power, the mark of his hand will soon be ingrained into you with a purple color.

Still, you’re much more horrified, and goosebumps run over every defenseless inch of your body, as the clammy limb reaches your bra on its path, and a startled squeak gets stuck behind your quivering lips that is elicited from you by the attack of the slimy organ burrowing under the soft material. You don't dare tear your eyes away from the pebble shining with a dull light, which rises orphaned from a small sand dune in front of you, because you're terrified that if you follow how the monster takes what your vulnerable body offers to him unwillingly, you will sink even deeper in the muddy swamp of terror. Yet every nerve ending in you is sharpened when you feel the cold, slick flesh sliding against the soft mound of your breast. And there is something repulsively intimate about how one of the suckers latches onto your nipple with an almost insatiable hunger, as if this monster wasn't holding you in the trap of his strong body for the first time. As if he's got his hand on a delicacy, the nectar of which he has tasted at some point, and now the longing for the tantalizing aroma on his tongue would drive him forward. But your brain cannot understand why this absurd thought awakens in you, because it's unable to focus on anything other than the involuntary shiver that runs along your spine when it sucks the sensitive skin that has become its prey with an almost playful lewdness. And this small act is enough for the miserable moan, that has been crawling up your throat on foul feet until now, to finally break through your mouth.

And as if this one sound would feed the horrible man's unquenchable greed, for you shudder in horror, as another tentacle wanders over the nervously heaving line of your belly with slow laziness, and for a terrible moment it just flirtatiously skims along the waistline of your pants. But his patience doesn't last long, because he pushes under your jeans with an almost violent want, and you don't even have time to react, the limb sinks under the damp material of your panties with such insidious speed. Your consciousness can't keep up with the siege on your body, but it still fills you with agony as the lush flame of desire flares up in your stomach, as one of the suckers closes around your clit. And the muddled whine that creeps up your trachea is unfamiliar even to your own ears, when the wet pressure increases around the sensitive bundle of nerves, because you would rather bite your own tongue in shame, but the shock that rolls over you is too strong to resist the pull of the sensation.

But when you feel the feeler gliding between the silky petals and almost curiously circling the entrance of your pussy throbbing with scorching heat, then the fire of protest rekindles in you, and you set your hands on the damp ground to brace yourself against the beast. But even though your unexpected opposition gives you momentum, it feels like you hit a concrete wall, the man's chest swelling with hard muscles press against your back with such unshakable confidence, and you become aware painfully soon what kind of fun you've made him have, when the hardness that bulges in his crotch pushes against your bottom. And he, perhaps mistakenly, perhaps on purpose, sees your pathetic attempt as an invitation, and the deep, throaty groan rings in your ears, with which he thrusts his cock against you with impatient fervor, like a damned animal ready to mate. And as his huge hand clamp down on your hips with an almost vise-like force, even the stray idea of escape suddenly seems like a ridiculously far-fetched dream, because his fingers will crush all your fragile bones to dust before letting you get lost into the night. But even though the icy poison of dread sneaks into your every brain cell, you know you have to take flight, since the goal hasn't changed. You have to survive. And if you stay here, you voluntarily count down the minutes until the moment of your death, which, no matter what sweet torment the game promises, you know it's coming.

And as if he would sense that he cannot drive away the stillborn idea of resistance from you with his insidious tactics, that hurtful, syrupy smell appears again, which fills your nose with such a vicious intrusion that you have no chance to understand what is happening, because as soon as the dark fog spreads over your brain, the burning tingle that sends liquid flames into your core saturates every inch of you. An almost drunken intoxication settles on you, and it's only a dull fear in the back of your mind that he might be using some kind of pheromones to deter you from running away, but even though you recognize the diabolical method with which he traps you, you're no longer able to pull yourself together. The desperate demand of lust stirs up in you too strongly, and suddenly it doesn't seem alarming at all, as the tip of the tentacle that ventured into your underwear teasingly slips into your wet heat just for a moment. And you don't even have enough common sense to understand how terribly pitiful it is that you willingly squeeze your trembling body against the stranger like a bitch in heat.

And if the hooded man didn't suddenly freeze over you, you wouldn't even notice what was happening around you, because his presence settles on every single one of your senses, as if someone would drip hot wax on you, slowly closing you in an impenetrable shell, condemning you to eternal lustful suffering. But as vehemently as he started, your attacker ends his torturous game as abruptly, and as the impenetrable veil of the treacly essence in your head is inexplicably replaced by the metallic smell of blood, then your consciousness is able to clear. And although it takes a few excruciating moments before your brain is finally capable of receiving the stimuli from the outside world, then you can hear quite well the pain-filled, enraged groan that breaks out of the monster's mouth, as a large knife lands in the sand with a dull thud a few short seconds later.

And there is nothing tender about the way the long appendages terrorizing you disappear and one hand smoothes on your back to pin you down to the ground, almost ramming you into the cold embrace of the wet soil, and for a moment the air is forced from your lungs, as his huge palm spreads between your shoulder blades with warning roughness. And you understand the silent instruction even without words, and the revived stabbing of fear escaping into your limbs helps to force you into corpse-like immobility. And that's when you hear the soft crunch of the autumn leaves, as something treads through them to sneak cautiously closer to you in the distance. Your frightened gaze is immediately fixed on the trees rising beyond the shore, but for a tense second, you see nothing but darkness shrouded in eerie silence. However, the man notices what you don't, and his robust figure towers over you so possessively, like a rabid animal protecting its prey, and you don't even feel like more than a piece of meat, which the cruel world of the game has turned into such an irresistible reward.

"Get the fuck back into the lake, König!" A deep voice breaks through the heavy quietness of the forest, and you would recognize Johnny's hoarse baritone out of a thousand, because you have been lucky enough to taste the danger of its deceptive bloodlust too many times. But now, as the outline of his body unfolds from under the black veil of shadows among the vegetation, you recognize the murderous anger, the icy tension of which sits in the line of his broad shoulders. And although you only see a distant figure moving out of the corner of your eye, the anxiety in the pit of your stomach immediately tells you that Simon is the one who stalks through the tangle of wild bushes like a big cat about to pounce. "She's ours."

And you can feel on your back how that angry voice resonates through the chest of the beast holding you down, with which he finally responds to the appearance of the uninvited visitors. And for a minute that seems like an eternity, nothing happens, and being stuck in this horrible anticipation, the panic awakens in you, which makes your brain finally able to form meaningful thoughts, and you can spot that tiny little detail that has been resting in front of your nose until now so happily. Because the man's hand is still resting in front of you, digging into the mud, and when you see the row of red beads adorning the thick wrist, the spark of recognition lights up in your head. After all, this terrible place doesn't place anything unnecessarily, and the crimson glimmer that brings the bracelet to life under the silvery rays of the moonlight cannot be a mere coincidence. This is a clue, and perhaps this whole horrible torture has prepared this moment. And you feel in your gut that you have to get it.

Therefore, taking advantage of the fact that the hooded creature is centering all its attention on the enemy hiding in the thick of the trees, one of your hands moves with cautious slowness to crawl toward the jewel, and every single one of your senses is keenly focusing to see when will the creature above you, who is becoming more and more furious, notice what you’re preparing in such great secrecy. And as your fingers get caught in the thin cord of the precious object, you look up in terror at the behemoth above you, and the pounding of your heart in your ears quiets down slightly when you see how unceasingly it scans the emptiness behind the thick trunks. And you only see it in your periphery, as something with a metallic glint shoots out from the infinity of the forest, and that's enough for the tentacles lurking above you to act on their own, wild with rage, certainly working to save their owner from an attack intended to be fatal. However, this one act unleashes all hell, because the monster suddenly loses its patience and launches forward with an aggressive roar like a demonic beast thirsty for blood, and he doesn't even notice how the bracelet is torn off him as he pushes forward toward his opponents who are hiding behind the vegetation.

And you know that you have no time to waste, because it's only a matter of time before the bloodshed unfolds and you become an unwilling participant, from which there will be no way out, only certain death and another miserable awakening in the back seat of the car. So, forcing the will into your limbs, you push yourself up onto your knees, and a series of dark spots swim into your vision, as a knife-like pain shoots into your ankle even from this harmless movement. But you swallow the scream that is about to escape your lips, because if you draw the attention of these scumbags to you now, all your chances of escape will be gone. That's why, overcoming the throbbing ache, you reach towards the pearls scattered in the sand, and as you collect the ruby spheres in your palm, they glow up in red, leaving behind a cool tingling sensation. The smoldering light travels along your arm, and as if guided by an invisible force, reaches your tortured leg, and you watch in amazement as the bruises drawn by the violence disappear from the skin in the wake of the faint glow. It takes a second for you to realize what has happened, and when you notice the sounds of the fight unfolding in the forest, you hastily put your treasure in the safety of your pocket. You'll have time to wonder what the hell is going on when you finally manage to disappear from your pursuers again.

That's why you just spring up nimbly and head towards the multitude of trees, hoping that the battle, drowned in increasingly violent shouts, will drag on long enough for them to lose track of you. Because the night is still long, and you're quite sure that no matter where your path leads, more horrors will be waiting for you, because this damned place will do everything to lock you in the glass cage of its fictional world. But with the map and the pearls in your pocket, the hope, that you might live to see the dawn and you get out of here, finally rekindles in you.

[black-lake]

astro observations 9

hey folks, I found new stuff to talk about. this is more of an outer planets and generations obs 🚀

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✮⌁ when uranus conjunct pluto happened during 1964, we saw a lot of rebellious music, fashion and other forms of expression, the beatles, bowie's debut album, twiggy, bob dylan.. etc. It was an important decade for many changes and revolutions. It's why so many people are still influenced by the art, music and appeal of that era. Even though it was a relatively short period, the intense need for freedom was loudly expressed that decade. I think with pluto in aquarius we may see similar events, but on a larger scale and with a far more lasting impact. 

✮⌁ neptune will move into aries in 2025, and boy when I tell you I can't wait, I terribly mean it. I think neptune in pisces wasn’t doing it for me, I had creative expectations for it but it was all about spirituality and faith practices on the internet and an unhealthy addiction to it. this was right after neptune in aquarius which we all know made the internet an addiction in itself. 

✮⌁ It had its positive impact, being open-minded about different beliefs, exploring our intuition and faith and other abstract topics. but we've already seen the negative impact. It's mainly the spirituality addiction on the internet that has became almost inescapable, replacing reality, practices performed and consumed by really young individuals which could distort their view on the world at an older age. living in an illusion and assumption of everything and everyone, believing everything you hear blindly, because of your or someone else's false sense of intuition will make the world more closed-off and less likely to evolve. it can create a reversed effect, inducing fear of real life interactions, closed-mindedness and seclusion.

✮⌁ with neptune in aries, we will come out of our shells and live in the real world, we will explore the world with a new set of eyes and a fresh sense of passion and childlike wonder. We're less likely to listen to our fears and other people's assumptions and bs. It's a new astrological cycle. Our collective hopes, dreams, fantasies and passions are reborn. Now especially when uranus moves into gemini, the same year, people will be more encouraged to become social and intimate, more fun talks and activities, I hope 🥹 this will also help fuel the inventive ideas pluto in aquarius brings with it.

✮⌁ y'all there's more to astrology than just money, success and fame. you can explore the world with that tool, thousands of things to talk about. there're topics that aren't given as much attention here. if you have something interesting and new you posted or you wanna talk about and are shy plssss just share it in the comments I'm all for ittt I wanna see it. 

✮⌁ last time pluto was in aquarius 1778-1798, there was an industrial revolution going on, the peak of "the age of enlightenment", the french revolution, and many other political revolutions. the battery, hot-air balloon and parachute were some of the things invented. uranus was discovered in 1781. fun fact, the airplane was invented when pluto was retrograde in gemini in 1903, which makes sense since it rules over flying and air travel, also uranus was in sagittarius which rules travel as well, so interestingly enough there was a uranus-pluto opposition.

✮⌁ when uranus moves into gemini (ruling air travel) and with pluto being in aquarius, we literally may see spaceship inventions or spacecrafts and rockets that will launch to space. we may even be able to travel to a certain planet or at least find something new about it. we may find creatures or living things in space. air travel may look different, hydrogen-powered planes, cleaner and eco-friendly energy sources. at the very least we may hear of new scientists, and keep up with them.

✮⌁ any outer planet in libra, is a timeline I'd like to skip if I ever lived in, which I won't thankfully. It's by far the least sign that has potential to bring evolution and advancement to a generation, excluding aspects, it just ain’t doing much. Idk what it is, but maybe people are less likely to do anything considered immoral or unaccepted, they're more likely to do things like pleasing the generation's expectations and opinions. It brings a sense of connectivity, an understanding of comprise to connect and relate to our environment, and a focus on relationship matters, which of course is a building brick to bigger changes like all the transits are. but for me, not an exciting time, ig it's why I'm born in neptune and uranus in aquarius gen 💀

✮⌁ many of us have parents that have uranus or pluto in libra, and tbf, they likely were closed minded, people pleasing or even racist at times. but our pluto sag ass knew how to deal with it. how many of y'all gen z's gave your mommy a lecture on lgbt+ rights and the people with other cultures and backgrounds? 🖐🏼 also butting heads over someone wearing something on the streets, I'm like "THEY CAN DO whatever they want, let them live" 

✮⌁ speaking of pluto in sagittarius, I'm a little underwhelmed. dgmw we made so many changes and paved the way for future generations, but moreso, perspective wise. I didn't see many tangible changes from this gen compared to pluto in scorpio, which was wild in terms of sexual expression, experiments, conspiracies, institutional corruption, societal and medical change. pluto in sag was kinda mild, we allowed everyone's voice to be heard, explored other cultures and lifestyles, probably have friends from all around the world, we're willing to learn and are open to all sources of knowledge, we're truth tellers and we won't shut up. I guess our mission was too easy for us.

✮⌁ pluto in sag gen probably have challenging experiences relating to higher education, college years may have been dark and even traumatic for many esp if you also have it conjunct chiron 🏴‍☠️ even our sense of belief in ourselves and optimism is wounded, we put on a happy front because we see a better future for the world at large, but not for us, like we're some type of teachers or gurus raising a child.

✮⌁ if you have pluto conjunct chiron, you may feel dismissed or misplaced. things can hurt deeply with this. this also may indicate some family karma that needs to be resolved. your ancestors may have done shady stuff that cost them a lot. you are here to change that and find the light that future generations will thank you for. you got the resources to do so since conjunction is the most beneficial of all. you got a lot of healing and transformative powers. since it's in sag, it may be about clearing up nasty beliefs and perceptions of people and the world, even harmful actions and disrespect towards different individuals. you're the truth-seeker that refuses to take on outdated traditions and beliefs.

✮⌁ pluto in capricorn gen understand the value of monetary resources because they experienced a restriction of it at some point in their lives. there's this feeling of restriction coming from societal rules or memories of such repressive time, which they may feel the need to go against and prove themselves by working and gaining more power. they know how to survive in times of chaos and make the most out of what they have. they may have goals of creating some type of legacy for themselves and future generations. also maybe capricorn ruling the skeletal system is why caps give the 💀🩻🪦🏴‍☠️ impression, sry I keep making jokes about y'all, but ya dgaf 🫶🏼

[factual-fantasy]

Good evening Factual! (Or whenever you're reading this) I sincerely hope your day is going well! And in regards to my last Ask, thanks for the info and clarification regarding Larry and the General! I especially liked your idea for a more reasonable "exploding shell"!

And staying on the topic of the Koopa Troop- I have a bit of a strange question today- what would you estimate is the rough population of the entire Koopa Kingdom? And how does it compare to the Mushroom Kingdoms population? I'd assume it would be significantly larger- as the Mushroom kingdom consists purely of toads, while Bowsers Domain encompasses dozens of different species- or at least it does in the games.

And so that begs the question- do any other species other than koopas make up your AUs Koopa Kingdom? Obviously we've seen troopas and you've mentioned goombas a few times- but are there significant populations of shy guys? Spikes? Monty Moles? Boos? Piranha plants perhaps? And if there are- any idea how they all came to serve Bowser? Was it out of fear, or respect? And are any of the various "vassels" present in the command structure, like King Bob-bomb, king Womp, or everyone's favorite- Petey Piranha!?

No problem! And well, I'm doing much better today than I was yesterday at least <XD Aside from that I caught a cold. So I'm gonna have fun dealing with that for the next week- 🤣💔

As for the species that populate the koopa kingdom, its actually not what you'd think-

My Shy Guys have no alliance with Bowser. They are a species of.. strange woodland people..? That live in what is currently called "shy guy forest". No one really knows how many of them there are, but everyone considers them to be malicious creatures that you shouldn't associate with.

I'd consider Spikey's to be regarded as animals or pets, as opposed to citizens of the kingdom. Whos to say how many of them there are..

I'd also imagine Monty Moles to be regarded as animals rather than "people". And since Bowser's land is so unhealthy, I imagine that they don't live in Bowser's territory anyways..

The Boos have no alliance with Bowser whatsoever. In fact they reside closer to Peach's land then they do Bowsers. King Boo and his Boos are regarded as a small-ish community of.. faries..? Sprites..? What ever the word may be-- that live out in these big dark woods. They don't serve Bowser and don't interact with him in any way really.. other than taking some of his troops that may stumble into the forest--

Piranha plants are also held in the same value as "animals", rather than people. Though I did consider that they grow mostly in Bowsers land.. Though they probably have to be nursed in healthy soil until they are big enough to eat meat. In which.. Bowser's soil is unhealthy. Hmm.. there might not be a whole lot of them anymore-

King bom-bomb likely doesn't really.. exist..?? Yet?? The bomb-ombs are just living bombs created by Kamek. And King bomb-omb would just be a GIANT bomb-omb. But considering they want Peach's land due to how fertile it is.. they don't have any good reason to create such a weapon..

The Thwomp's are tricky.. There was supposed to be this ancient temple that was made of these HUGE stones with faces carved into them. Kamek brought the stones to life, separating them and making them do his bidding.. I considered that "King Thwomp" was a huge cluster of wall that the bricks couldn't be separated from. Making just.. one giant thwomp. What this means is, there is a limited number of thwomp's. Compared to the rest of the kingdom? Surly they'd only have a handful of thwomp's.. (You can see drawings I made of them here! :0 )

As for Petey, he's not in Bowser's kingdom anymore! :0 He grew so huge he was able to eat his way through the castle and escape. He was so big and powerful, and so fast- that no one could stop him. He scurried off in to the woodlands beyond Bowsers territory.. never to be seen by Bowser again.

That just leaves the Koopa troops and all their variants really.. including dry bones.. when it comes to their population? Its hard to say. I don't have any numbers in mind- but I can compare them to the other kingdoms a bit--

Lets use a 10 scale thing, lets say 10/10 is a completely overflowing kingdom. Way too may people to house and it just not even funny-

Peach's kingdom would be a 6/10. Her land is very healthy and their culture is big on family and generations and what not. So that number is slowly rising..

Daisy's kingdom might be closer to a 4-5/10. Less people but still, their land is healthy and that number is slowly rising.

Then there's Bowsers kingdom. I was thinking that his population is closer to 8/10. This is becuase the Koopa people have been around for many years and have had time to build up that number. I also considered that the Koopa people are a very tough species. So even though their land is unhealthy and doesn't bear much food.. they press on..

You might think that Bowser has Peach beat. I mean, its 6 (weakling toads) vs 8 (tough koopas). But actually Daisy and Peach's kingdom are in alliance. So if Bowser picks on Peach, Daisy will back her up.

So then it becomes an 8 vs 10-11. (tough koopas vs weak toads and sturdy Piantas). And now with the hero's of legend on their side? Beings capable of beating death? Its just a big lose for Bowser..

Wow. Okay I just stopped typing and realized that I kind'a flew off the rails there- I better cut it off here-- none the less I hope the answers to your questions are in that ramble somewhere or you at least enjoyed the read! <XDD

[inchidentally]

just find it super interesting that carlos didn't go out to celebrate with lando, considering how monumental of a moment this is in lando's career...

honestly as someone who has been turned off the ship itself by ppl being out of their minds and way over-crossing certain lines etc, I will gladly say that Carlos not going out w Lando wasn't intended with ill will at all and is way more to do w how the two of them have naturally grown apart over the years. it's been happening since around 2020 anyway but it was always going to happen more since their only shared interests are F1 and golf and their mutual friends only consist of Carlos' team and other F1 drivers. their relationship is the same as Lando's w Daniel and George - they'll play padel/golf and go out to dinner and travel on the same jets occasionally during the season but Lando is very much still a carefree young man early in his career while the others are well into their long term relationships and more 'serious' phases of life and career. Oscar may seem like an old settled relationship guy but he's not really - the more a lot of us catch up on his F2 and F3 stuff it's clear he likes to have fun and isn't actually allergic to going out and he literally was already friends w guys in Lando's life. and Max V is rly the only driver where Lando has a lot of mutual interests and they specifically and consistently spend time together outside the season - bc while his relationship situation seems mature, Max off duty mostly sticks to gaming and going out w friends just like Lando.

so it makes sense that the guys who went out w Lando after his win were all closer to his age/lifestyle etc and that Max arranged the whole thing. (we'll hand-wave Pierre bc Kika has helped him de-age a little lol)

like, the lasting bond Carlos and Lando will always have was formed as that big brother/little brother dynamic when Lando desperately needed someone to help him out of his shell. Carlos had just gone through the same experience w Max so he was already prepared for a nervous barely-adult anxious creature clinging to him. and as we've seen, that bond between Carlos and Max is strong as well.

but it's why ppl honestly set themselves up for bitter disappointment pretending that Carlos and Lando are remotely like what Lando is with Max F or Carlos with his closest friends. Carlos will always burst w pride over Max's achievements and Lando's achievements but they're still younger guys and their friend groups and private lives only superficially overlap with his. and like... the Sainz family do love Lando yes, but they also love and make a lot out of the publicity that carland0 brings. literally in Miami Carlos and Caco clocking the Netflix guys and making a sudden beeline right next to them for McLaren hospitality to do a "heartfelt moment" w Andrea and John aslfgaljfg) the whole Sainz wedding thing was very sweet but again, if we're acknowledging the publicity aspect of it then a massive society wedding is the perfect place for that ! again, not saying it's all fake! there is a bond there! but the bond is uh definitely made to be bigger than it is when cameras are involved.

but yea tl;dr if ppl weren't insane and carland0 wasn't the corporate sponsored publicity department approved ship then no one would've felt it was a big deal that Carlos just stuck w a hug and posted a story and nothing else. no one would be inventing crazy theories that Carlos wanted to 'be on the podium with Lando' instead of how Carlos actually said he wanted to win the race himself ! and that Lando said he only wanted Carlos on the podium so he could finally look down on him and show him how it feels !! bc they've built their careers their entire lives and these guys aren't gonna throw any of it away just for grid buddies !!

so how Carlos has reacted to Lando's win fully suits the stage of their real non PR friendship as it is now. it's what he did for Max's first WDC too. and like the last time Carlos was at a club was w Rebecca last year and it wasn't somewhere single guys like Lando go to hook up saklfgsajfgl)

and tbh it's what always makes me a bit sad bc with the ship being so over the top and everyone wanting it to be this huge immense thing it means that reality never measures up and just seems like a big disappointment. where if ppl were like oh it's so sweet that these guys have this brotherly bond and still make time to catch up! then everything would actually be more enjoyable !!!

.

.

.

(and it does crack me up that if Max looked like Carlos then it would knock carland0 completely out of existence w how much more 'content' there is between him and Lando slfgslajfgafas)

[eldritch-spouse]

You swear you saw a glint of sadness in his expression. It might be presumptuous to ask but you feel the need to. Turning away from foraging for food, you look up at the god “Protector Saudramar, how has your day been going? You seem… lost in thought.”

He had been staring off for a while now, beyond the sea gently swaying before him, beyond his powers, dominions and virtues soaring dutifully through the skies. Saudramar looked past the clouds and saw the edges of Eden as the annex gently orbited Earth.

There's no words to describe the utter impotence he feels.

To be the pinnacle of perfection as a Protector yet desire so much more, know that he's capable of so much more but completely powerless to take his place amongst the great Fathers and Mothers. Born to see others fit into place like puzzle pieces while he's doomed to push against the walls of his cage.

Nothing he does can fill the void that's been growing in the siadar's very core. Every single day, boiling rage and vicious envy turn him into an increasingly sour shell of his former self. The pain of his own existence grows heavier on his weary shoulders and he retreats into his own mind to avoid putting those who have been entrusted to him at risk.

Most of these sentiments are unleashed in the great battles against Perdition and the Betrayer's growing forces. He has looked the first fiends in the face as he slayed their kin effortlessly, never a hint of fear to be found in his brilliant ocean eyes, just monumental hatred projected onto the abominations created by a rebel.

It was different, this time.

As he held one of those slithering, disgusting, deformed parodies of celestials- It had stared at him. In a way none had before.

It saw him. It saw the real him.

And the way that foul creature laughed in Saudramar's face made him pause.

You and Them are not so different.

It had rasped, bloodied and broken.

You live in the shadows of those that are inferior to you, as did They once.

Look at us now.

Saudramar couldn't kill it. He couldn't even process what was said to him in that moment. He launched the demonic lifeform into the bowels of its own degenerate annex and moved on. But those words, hissed through chipped teeth and a slithering tongue, held only truth, engraved themselves in his soul.

And the realization alone leaves a taste in the Protector's mouth he hasn't been able to wash off.

The Betrayer is a reflection of him.

The very things he's mercilessly slaughtering with others of his cast are no more than unauthorized creations, in an unauthorized annex, designed by a siadar who was also unhappy with their role in the universe.

Except, that one was strong enough to achieve a modicum of their vision, if only just for a glimpse in time. A window of self-fulfilment worth more than an entire existence of conformity.

What is he doing?

...

The sound of your soft voice has Saudramar snapping his gaze towards you, hardened stare gradually receding.

" Lesser. "

He has a complicated view of humanity. As much as he is unbelievably fond of your design, he's also of the opinion that this project was much too ambitious. The fruits of aimless impulse from Creators who, to him, have neither a plan nor a solution for the trouble your kind will eventually brew.

Alas, you are his favorite so far. Saudramar has witnessed many lessers be born and succumb to age, and not one was as captivating as you. He can't place what it is about you yet that's so appealing, but the Protector knows he'd like to keep you closer, the same way some other casts get to perform binding ceremonies with their favored.

You are his chosen.

But Saudramar won't burden you with that.

The god shakes his head.

" Fret not. Do you require my assistance? "

You smile, relieved. " No, my Lord. " There's a pause, you can clearly tell he's upset, and the siadar chides himself for displaying weakness like that to one of his entrusted.

" Was today's battle exhausting? "

He observes you forage idly.

" Never. Every day Perdition suffers the righteousness it deserves, and I am only fueled by its destruction. "

Saudramar squats when you look into his eyes. A pallid, beautiful hand reaches out, brushing over yours. One set of eyes studies the contrast, another keeps your attention on him.

" Not once shall the filth of the impure taint your sight. The land you step upon is under my protection, and harm will fall upon those who conceive of desecrating it. "

You hold onto his hand with both of yours, and Saudramar feels his chest blossom with a sensation that chases away the thunder in his soul for the briefest of moments.

" Can we cook for you tonight, Protector? " You offer, and Saudramar is thankful no one else is around to see the way he bleeds adoration through his stare.

" Of course, my lesser. "

He will have to hide you away from the seraphim this upcoming Spring, the though of you paired to another lesser is displeasing at best. None of the males here are of enough quality to impregnate you. You are exemplary, a perfect specimen.

Saudramar will protect you.

That's one thing he'll always be able to do, no matter what the future may bring.

" Now, finish. Night will fall soon. "

[ashensgrotto]

A Merfolk's Melody (Part 4)

Characters: Yan!Floyd x Reader, Yan!Jade x Reader, Yan!Azul x Reader

Word Count: 13.5 k

Intro      Floyd Leech     Jade Leech     Azul Ashengrotto (You Are Here) Epilogue

Synopsis: The sea always calls to those who feel lost and alone, wanting to fill the empty part of their soul until they are loved and full… and as such, it’s only fair that the strange creatures that live beneath its depths would want the same as well…

Author’s Note: Another 4-part fanfiction courtesy of @merakiui ‘s headcanon of the reader being stuck in a room/wall (I’m sorry, but I just enjoy your headcanons and they always give me these ideas) -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/722393818829373440/in-addition-to-being-stuck-in-a-locked-room?source=share & https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/722677892623056896/about-the-stuck-in-a-wall-trope-in-the-oceani?source=share

Here’s how it’s going to work: each character is going to get their own part following the intro. It is going to focus on the Octrio again (bc it’s my current liking, sorry guys). If you want to read a certain character’s part, feel free to jump around and select the one you’re most interested in. 

Again, as stated before, this is a work of fiction; I disagree with any and all behaviors that are represented in this story.

****

Memories of childhood that often replay in one’s mind had pros and cons; the pros being that of a fond memory, a happy memory filled with joy, wonder, and excitement… the cons being that of a horrible memory, a dark memory filled with anger, hate, and disgust.

One of these memories was often one from when you were approximately six or seven; you had been at the tide pools on the far side of the beaches and away from the cabin by the sea. Your friends had left for the day, promising to come and play with you tomorrow morning - allowing yourself a bit of breathing space as you watched the little creatures that lived in the tide pools. Small crabs scuttled from one small pool to the other while starfish rested along with the barnacles and sea urchins against the multicolored stones and shells that lined within the pools. You would reach out and stroke the creatures - mainly out of curiosity, but also because you didn’t want them to think you were going to hurt them. 

As wonderful as it was - as adorable as it was - a shadow always surrounded it.

Five children - maybe two or three years older than you - would often come to the shoreline, not to play, but to torment the little creatures that lived in the tide pools - the same ones you often played at. They would laugh and tease you, calling you a bilge rat or a strumpet, sometimes throwing small pebbles at you or kicking sand into your eyes. Then, they would snatch the little crabs and starfish out of their pools, dangling the poor creatures around as they slowly dried out - other times flinging the defensive animals out into the open waters, teasing that they were feeding their ‘beloved shark’ that lived in the open waters. You would cry and beg for them to leave them alone - wishing harder and harder each day for them to leave you and the little creatures in the tide pools alone. 

And as the memory fades into the background, you could’ve sworn you saw your tormentor’s faces shift from glee to fright in a matter of seconds… and tentacles black as ebony appeared in the corner of your vision.

The memory, regardless if it was real or an illusion conjured by a dream, often played in the background of your mind following your boyfriend’s betrayal - the unwanted trigger that made it replay over and over again like a bad film you had seen countless times; and it was because of that unwanted trigger that your body floated down into the waters of the sea, pulling you into a much larger version of your little tide pools.

Rocks and sand dusted the bottom of the crashing waves while large patches of seagrass waved at you with the tide, the water murky and hard to distinguish anything beyond the length of your arm. Sand and pebbles floated around you as each push from your legs forced the water to kick up more sand and pebbles along with the occasional crushed or abandoned seashell floating in the murky depths. 

Opaleyes and Clingfish swam among the reeds and seagrasses, darting to and from as your shadow passed over them, while the heads of monkeyface eels peered out from between rocks that scattered here and there on the ocean floor. Crabs and shrimp of different colors and sizes scuttled to and from along those rocks, their eyes shifting about as if waiting and watching for something while the occasional little octopus floated from stone to stone - one coming up to latch to your hand as it's little suckers poked at your skin before swimming away. Starfish lounged on the rocks where barnacles grew and sea urchins rolled slowly across the sandy floors.

It was beautiful in its own way - calm and comforting.

However, there seemed to be a lingering fear that surrounded the area - a sense that something much more dangerous than any sea creature that lurked in the depths of the ocean was around. You would often look over your shoulder before ascending to the surface, intaking a big gulp of air before diving back downward - unknown to you that you were being followed and watched. Had you looked over your shoulder twice before each ascent, you may have seen several large appendages floating in the water as well as a set of sea blue eyes watching you from the tall seagrass beneath you - following close behind you and waiting to make their move.

As you took another plunge, you decided to use this time to look for a seashell as the ocean had lulled you to a state of calmness before returning to the surface - perhaps you could find a nice one to give to your coworker who had been so supportive of you during your time of need over the past month and a half. You drew close to the sea grass, your hands curling into the grass as your fingers traced the sand, searching for a seashell that would be a perfect gift. 

You had often collected them as a child and given them to your friends - they were relatively easy to find, often washing up on the shore as many were remains from a seagull’s supper. Remains of clams, cowries, and scallops often were found and strung on string, creating bracelets that were sold in souvenir shops along with conch shells, lightning whelks, and shells of shark eyes. However, one the most prominent shells that you had harbored in your possession had been a nautilus shell - silver-white in color and was about the size of a half-dollar coin. They were rare to come by - especially on the shorelines where the Nautilidae, the creature who lived within these shells, were out in deeper waters; the shell had been a gift from one of your friends, saying that it was a good luck charm. You always kept the shell close, strung on a braided string that clung to your wrist and went everywhere you went - the shell a reminder that not everyone was as they seemed. However - the bracelet had disappeared many years ago before you left for college, a heavy tide snatching it from your wrist never to be seen again.

Perhaps you would find it again as you explored another part of the sea grass - searching for the perfect shell for your co worker. As you searched in another area, your legs kicked a little too close to the seagrass as a strand wrapped around your ankle.

You kicked your leg again to remove said strand but the strand held on tighter and… became thicker?

You looked toward your leg and saw an obscenely large tentacle wrapped around you and slowly traveling up your leg. It was pitch black in the murky depths with an underbelly lavender-gray in color - multiple suckers nearly the color of lilac kissed your skin, leaving pale red circular marks along your foot, ankle, and calf. You pulled at your leg, but another tentacle appeared, wrapping around your other leg as two more gripped at your waist. You jerked and struggled before a soft voice spoke.

"Stop fighting me, angelfish…"

Your head snapped up, feeling your lips part as your eyes met pale sea blues and horizontal pupils.

Before you, entangled within seagrass and seaweed, was an octomer.

Octomers were typically shy merfolk that preferred the shelter of large caves - or grottos - much like how their octopus counterparts were, hiding in the dark crevices as they watched and waited for prey to come by and avoiding interaction with other sea creatures. The reasoning behind this was rumors and speculation of them being casted out by the merfolk due to their heritage and greediness - possessive to the point of suffocation - and were believed to be vain about their appearances; many of them were rumored to host beautifully colored tentacles in oranges, blues, yellows, reds, and purples. Some were also in shades of pale grays and browns and often used camouflage to help blend into their surroundings. Legends of octomers were also rare and the only one you had been told about was one who granted wishes - living in the darkest part of the sea off the coast of your little oceanic village and would come to the shorelines to make deals on behalf of the sea itself. 

As much as octomers were fascinating as they were an oddity and rarity in legends and among merfolk, they were also quite deadly. It was no secret that many octopi were poisonous - with enough venom to potentially kill a man within minutes if not treated like the blue-ringed octopi that lived in the tide pools and coral reefs. Legend stated that some octomers also hosted this venom - holding the venom in sacks that were hidden within their mouths instead of the beak that hid under their tentacles, though no one knew for sure. They may be solitary creatures, but that did not mean they would back down when placed with a problem before them as they were also intelligent beyond a doubt - having the existence of nine brains at their disposal.

And the one before you seemed to know exactly what it wanted.

The octomer before you was absolutely stunning - silvery skin with a kiss of pale lavender covered his facial features, chest and hands while his neck, sides, arms, and hips were painted black with little scales of deep dove gray littered the parts of his shoulders and tentacles. Eyes of pale sea blue glowed in the murky depths as silvery hair sparkled like starlight under the sun’s rays that cut through the shifting water. Strong cheekbones defined his face, a strong nose and thin jaw made him appear all-knowing; thin lips pressed together, a little black mole perched beneath - a little beauty mark that would be the envy of many. The gills on his sides fluttered in anticipation before his eyes flashed, brow furrowing as two more of his tentacles snapped upward - one wrapping around your waist and the other pressing over your eyes.

“Don’t look at me!” the octomer hissed, his voice softening, “Please… don’t look at me, angelfish… I can’t bare for you to see me like this…”

You were struggling against him now - unsure of what the octomer wanted from you and why he was now so entangled by you. Surely, you had never met before… right?

So, why did that nickname sound so familiar?

You felt the octomer shudder against you as you struggled, his grip tightening onto your form, “Angelfish… why do you keep fighting me? Did you… forget me?”

You wanted to say that you had no idea what he was talking about, nor did you know who he was - maybe he was confused and mistaken you for someone else. However, you really couldn’t at the risk of losing the air in your lungs that you were desperate to hang onto. 

“You couldn’t have… you promised you wouldn’t!” The octomer was now becoming desperate - though you couldn’t see it, you were certain tears had started to form in his eyes as you felt his hands grip your arms, leaving bruises as his grip tightened, bringing you close to his face as he practically screamed, “You promised! You promised you would never leave me behind! And yet… you did.”

His voice became sour then, practically murmuring, “... I suppose I should do something about that, to keep you with me until your last breath…”

You felt something dig into your neck - something sharp and painful as bubbles broke passed your lips in a scream as a fire erupted under your skin - your body suddenly locking up and forcing you to remain still before something was pressed to your lips.

“Be a good friend and test this little concoction out for me,” you heard the octomer whisper against the shell of your ear, “This… will help with that problem of yours.”

As soon as the liquid hit your tongue, you wanted to regurgitate - push it out and back into the bottle that was pressed into your mouth. Lips and fingers pressed against your neck, stroking and kissing as the unknown liquid eventually made its way down your throat, making you gasp as something rattled within your core. A sharp nose ran along your neck, skin suddenly thinning and lifting like fish gills as lips pressed against them - one on each side.

“Ah… how beautiful, angelfish,” the octomer whispered against your ear again as a shiver ran along your spine, “They turned out marvelously - just as I expected… perfect for my wonderful, sweet angelfish…”

You tried struggling against him again, but your body was still trapped by the bite and by his tentacles. You whimpered softly in fear as the octomer continued to kiss your neck, his teeth scraping the edges.

“Don’t be afraid, angelfish… you know I would never hurt you. The venom will wear off and you’ll be a free fish again - but I do intend to keep you close, after all…” you felt his breath tickle the hair on your nape as bubbles caressed your skin, “...I would never hurt the person who accepted my love at first, nor accepted my wedding gift…”

You felt something small and familiar wrap around your wrist - the familiar shape of the nautilus shell bracelet that had once been in your possession now returned to its rightful place on your wrist. A gasp sounded from you as lips pressed against yours before you felt the tickling sensation of seagrass surround you.

The octomer had pulled you close, his arms coming around to hold you close to him as his lips danced across your still eye-covered features, pulling you into the seagrass to keep you hidden from the rest of the aquatic life that existed around you. Tentacles trailed around you, moving and shifting as the little suckers that ranged from the size of small pebbles to large stones kissed your skin, marking you with bruises and as the octomer’s possession. Your body could not fight the venom that was still coursing through you, keeping you still as the mer worked you over, lips trailing from your face to your neck and to the top of you chest as hands and tentacles curled at the offensive clothing that kept the two of you separated.

He tore at the buttoned shirt you had slept in the night before, the fabric floating around you as the buttons sank to the bottom - his face burying itself in your chest and his hands trailed lower, pulling at the ties of your cotton shorts and ripping them apart as well in a desperate longing to have you bare beneath him. Bubbles containing sighs and gasps left your lips, but your new gills provided by the octomer breathed in for you, fluttering with excitement at each touch and kiss that was pressed against your skin.  

There was no preparation as something long and thin slipped into your folds between your legs, nothing prepared you for the heaviness that curled into your belly as multiple suckers kissed your entrance - bringing your body to life and weeping for the creature that had overpowered you. The tentacle that was wrapped around your eyes slowly released you, curling behind you to cushion you against the sandy bottom and the octomer’s hands rested on either side of you - his tentacles pulling and prodding at you, kissing your skin as his eyes glowed brighter as he took in your contorted features with every gasp and cry as his hectocotylus made its home within your body. He pressed his forehead against yours, moaning softly against you as you met each of his thrusts with your hips, gasping aloud.

“Oh… angelfish… look at you,” he moaned softly, a tentacle slipping between you to curl and press against your stomach, making you gasp, “Look at you with my marks… ah ha - I’ll have to do this every day… keep you covered with my markings… signs that you have been taken by me, and no one else…”

You whimper in want, the fire raging in your body pushing you closer and closer.

The octomer leans forward, kissing your ear and nibbling on the lobe softly as he whispers, “You… you remember don’t you? Our little promise… our little secret… Tell me… say my name, angelfish. Tell me my name… the one you gave me… what color are my eyes, angelfish?”

The words echoed in your haze-filled mind.

What color are my eyes?

What color are my eyes…

What color…

“Azul…” you whimper as his tentacles curl within your body, forcing your hips to snap forward and arching your back against the sand - creating a little cloud of debris.

“Yes, (Y/n)...” Azul whispers, lips digging into your skin, “Yes… my angelfish…”

***

Azul watched as he held you close - keeping you embraced in his octopot as he guarded you from the dangers outside, his tentacles still tracing over your body that was now plush with his eggs. You had fainted during the last round and although he still had more to give you, frightening him for a moment but quickly realizing you needed rest before you could take any more. He would hold onto the remaining eggs until you awoke - then he would take you again until every last egg was safe within you. Once that was complete, he would take you back to his cave - keep you hidden within a special room until the time came for the eggs to hatch.

It was hard to believe he had found you again after so long - a nearly forgotten promise reminding him of how much you meant to him.

He remembered the little girl on the shoreline, crying out as a group of boys tormented the little creatures within the tidepools, begging for them to stop. At first, he - the little octo-twerp - did not understand why you were crying, why you were so adamant about protecting creatures that were weaker than you. As he continued to watch you from his hiding spot with each passing day - and how you played with the Leech twins of all people - Azul slowly realized that you were a part of the sea, someone that was born human but had merfolk qualities. He admired your strength and cried at your weakness, wanting nothing to go to you and comfort you - he knew you better than you knew yourself, after all. It took courage on his end, but he approached you - nervous about his appearance. 

At first, you were startled by his approach - most anyone would have been.

But, then, you smiled and asked if he knew Jade and Floyd - and thus the friendship between the four of you began. You all would play near the water, letting the waves crash over you and revealing their true forms to your eyes only - laughing as they splashed you and pulled you into the sounding waves. You would lounge in content by the tidepools, watching the little creatures as they lurked under the water and continued their daily lives. It was years later that Azul presented you the nautilus shell bracelet that would be your promise to him for a life together - just the two of you.

Then, you disappeared.

Jade and Floyd, who now worked with Azul as his eyes and ears in their part of the waters, indicated that your family had moved closer to inland - there was no way for the tides to reach you, nor for you to reach them. Azul had slumped for years, continuing his research and deciding to try to formulate a potion that would allow him to seek you out.

However, that was cut off when his mating urges began. All he could do was swim to shallow warmer waters, his thoughts only of you as he writhed in want and pain, so desperate to feel you beneath him - to hold him and never let him go. 

It was lucky that you had swam out to open waters and had alerted him of your presence, a welcoming sight for the octomer who thought he had lost his whole world six years ago.

His gaze flicked from the entrance of the octopot to your form resting in his arms and tentacles - bubbles appearing as you inhaled and exhaled against him. Azul smiled and nuzzled the crown of your head with his cheek, content to have you by his side again.

“Sweet angelfish… stay with me, my darling… stay and be mine…”

[chernabogs]

‘  where  has  choosing  goodheartedness  and  having  golden  hair  ever  gotten  you  ? 

hiii um this prompt with a prince silver au maybe? maybe him being kept in the dark about the war and living a perfect life, but then finding out about what the silver owls are doing / planning to do to the fae?

I took this in sort of a subtle approach, if that's ok! I was writing this and suddenly I was like hmmm what if someone nudged him to begin looking into things himself... and voila. Bean-nighe was the first thing I thought of. I did also tweak the line a little!

RED RIVER

Inc: Silver, his nanny, a Bean-nighe/Washerwoman, Leah & Knight of Dawn mention Warnings: Blood (I mean... washerwoman do that), implications of oppression (fae). AU-verse of Silver being raised by Leah and KoD. C7 spoilers, somewhat. Little bit of Scottish mythos in here too. WC: 2.4k Summary: After his nanny goes missing, Silver finds himself lost in the forests, where he comes across a woman washing strange clothing in a stream.

He only begins to clue in that something is amiss when his nanny is absent one morning. She’s a fae, with long hay-coloured hair and slate eyes that still hold a twinkle when she smiles at him. She only really smiles at him—her little sun—but otherwise wears a blank expression. Her eyes always fix to the floor whenever his uncle is with him and she shrinks into the shadows, his quiet nanny, only to emerge from her shell when they’re alone again. 

One time he told her that she felt more like a mother to him than his real one. It isn’t Leah’s fault that she’s absent for portions of his life—that goes part and parcel with being a royal, after all—but absence does not make his heart grow any fonder. His nanny had looked terrified when he said this. She had pressed a finger to her lips and begged him not to say that again, not to say that to anyone. 

When she vanishes, he looks for her. It’s what any child would do.  

He straps his wooden sword to his hip and embarks out of the white manor that is his home into the gnarled woods beyond. Where most children would shy away from the shadows, he strides forward, as brave as his father when it comes to facing the unknown. 

Or at least, as brave as he assumes his father to be. They so rarely interact, despite his name being ‘Silver’ after the armour that the man adorns. Silver, like blades that cut through the night. Silver, like the moon's rays that will touch on new land. The absence of him does not make Silver’s heart grow any fonder either. 

“Nanny?” He calls, his small voice lost to the vast space around him as his neat shoes become muddied from the earth. Assistants had dressed him this morning in fine garbs befitting his position as a young prince. Silver didn’t know why they bothered to begin with. By the end of the day, his knees were always dirty, and his palms scratched up from playing in the woods. Nanny would scold him as she washed the cuts clean and kissed them better, making the wounds vanish into smooth skin. 

When no one replies to his call, he pouts a little as his hand rests on his wooden sword. He isn’t allowed a real one quite yet. He’s still too young, according to his trainer, and needs to perfect working with a wooden sword before receiving iron. A wooden sword is sorely inefficient when it comes to creatures in these woods. Dire Beasts, Stygian Boars, Dryads and Elves—Silver has heard of them all through nanny’s stories at night. 

The Dire Beasts aren’t bad. He can probably climb a tree and wait them out if needed. Stygian Boars often just rooted around the dirt and could be easily bypassed so long as you didn’t spook them. Dryads and Elves, though, are more complicated. Dryads can use nature to their advantage and Elves can use their sharp tongues. Silver knows better than to cross paths with either of them. 

But he needs to find his nanny, and quickly. He wonders if perhaps she’s gone into the woods again to collect flowers and strayed off the path. He used to wake up every morning with a new bouquet by his bedside of flowers he’s never seen before—dark purple and tempting. By the evening, the flowers are gone, but the joy of waking up with them lingers in his memory. 

The space grows darker as he continues to navigate over roots of trees older than even his parents. His small hand grasps the wood to leverage himself as the air grows heavy and a new scent begins to invade him. It smells ancient as well and makes his nose curl as he wanders down an embankment. 

His path is soon interrupted by the sight of someone kneeling by the river that runs below, her back hunched as she appears to be washing something in the stream. He can hear her humming a soft, mournful sounding song as her hands work in a rhythmic manner, dipping the cloth beneath the stream before raising it up and submerging it again. It’s a mesmerizing motion that draws him closer to where she kneels. However, when his foot lands on a twig, making it snap under the weight of his body, the woman ceases her motions and turns her head to look his way. 

She’s an older woman, with the beginnings of wrinkles lining her face and a headscarf concealing her hair. Her dark brown eyes seem to peer right through him as her lips tilt down into a frown and she straightens up. “Boy. Why do you watch me from the shadows?” 

Silver feels the flush of embarrassment burn his cheeks as he rises, walking forward until he draws to a stop a few feet away from the woman. The wooden sword hits against his thigh as he moves, and the woman's gaze watches it with interest. When he’s close—but not too close—he wrings his hands together with a down-turned gaze. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you,” he begins, studying the rocks by his feet as he speaks. “Can you help me?” 

“Help?” The woman’s hoarse tone pitches in amusement as he hears water sloshing again. He looks up to see that she’s resumed her washing. At a closer distance, he can also see the wicker basket by her side, the edge of another cloth peeking out from beneath the lid. “What a peculiar request. Most don’t want my help.” 

Silver thinks this a rather odd thing to say, but he rationalizes that perhaps others are just more cautious, and likely don’t have a missing nanny to worry about. The woman washes quietly for a moment before speaking again as she sets her cloth on a nearby rock to dry. It’s a white linen shirt, in a style that Silver had seen a few of his father’s fellow soldier’s wear. “What is a child like you doing wandering these woods alone?” 

“My nanny is missing. She likes to come into these woods to pick flowers, and I think she may have become lost.” Silver inches forward to squat near the woman by the stream. His small hand reaches out to splash in the water as the woman opens her wicker basket. “I was wondering if—”

His words cut off when he sees what the woman pulls out. It’s another linen skirt, like what his nanny would wear, but this one is not just white. A violent, scarlet stain mars the front of it, accompanied by the pungent smell of copper that makes his breath stutter as he falls back on his rear. His wooden sword clacks against the stones he lands on. The washerwoman seems unaffected by his reaction as she submerges the shirt into the stream and begins to scrub it. 

“Wondering if I have seen her?” The washerwoman then prompts as she scrubs away. Silver gawks at the sight. The only time he’d seen blood before is when he’s fallen and scraped up his hands on the cobbles in the palace’s courtyard. Even then, this was just a little blood. The skirt that the washerwoman is cleaning has far more than a little. Mutely, he nods. 

The washerwoman turns the fabric over before looking at him again. Her dark eyes seem far more lifeless and ancient now that he was closer to her side. “What is your nanny’s name?” 

The question makes him blink. He didn’t know his nanny’s name. She had only been ‘nanny’ to him, or ‘servant’ to the other nobles in the court. His hands reach down to nervously wring the bottom of his shirt. “I… I don’t know. But she’s a fae! With gold hair, grey eyes, and a kindest heart. I miss her. I want her to come home.”

His description makes the woman pause as her hands remain in the creek. Her face reveals none of what she’s thinking. “What is your name?” 

“Silver?” His answer comes out as a question as he frowns. He isn’t too sure why who he is has importance here. He’s looking for his nanny—shouldn’t she be the focus of the washerwoman’s questions? 

Still, the woman hums as she resumes her washing. “Your father is a knight, yes? What is it that you think he does?” 

“He helps people, of course. Lots of people like my father. But... I need to find my nanny, and he’s too busy to help me. Have you seen her?” Silver tries to turn the conversation back to his nanny again. He’s beginning to feel worried about how he still hasn’t found her, and soon it will be mid-afternoon. He’s been walking for a while in these woods now. 

“You must think of him as a noble man. What of your mother?”

“She’s a princess. She helps people too.” He can feel his worry growing as the washerwoman keeps cleaning. The creek ran red for a moment before clearing up again. When the washerwoman sets the skirt on the rock and reaches in her basket again, Silver winces and looks away. 

“You must think of her as a noble woman. Do they spend much time with you, or is it just your nanny?” 

“It’s… mostly just my nanny. She’s always with me, which is why I need to find her. Something isn’t right.” He looks back when he hears her hands submerge in the water again. The creek runs red once more as she twists and turns the fabric. “Please, have you seen her?” 

“Does your nanny let you out beyond the palace walls? Let you accompany your family?” The washerwoman’s lips turn to a frown—another brief expression of emotion. “Does she let you know how noble your family truly is?”

Silver feels himself shrinking back as the washerwoman’s voice drops. Slowly, he shakes his head. “No. I don’t see my mother and father often. They’re always busy, and nanny doesn’t like me to find them until they’ve been back for a few days.”  

The washerwoman nods as if this all makes perfect sense to her. She sits back on her ankles again before looking at him. Water drips off her forearms and a strand of dull brown hair has fallen free from beneath her headscarf. The washerwoman wrings out the clothing item she’s holding before tossing it aside with a carelessness that startles Silver. 

“Your nanny will not be returning to you. Your family is not as noble as you think. Go home, and do not let your court placate you any further. I detest having to wash the clothing of a child.” Her voice is dull and monotone as she grabs her wicker basket, now almost empty save for one more article of clothing. She pulls it out and Silver notes that this garb seems more expensive looking than the rest. It’s a silk shirt, and for a moment he thinks it looks like the one his father wore the last time he saw it. This, too, is marred by a brutal red stain across the front. 

“What do you mean she won’t be returning? Please, I need to find her!” His disregards caution as he inches forward, his small hand grabbing for the washerwoman’s arm. When he touches her skin, it’s as though his entire body is plunged into ice water, like it’s him that the woman is holding beneath the stream. She jerks her arm free with a gasp and it’s with this motion that he sees the sharp teeth she’s been hiding. She is not human—she’s fae, precisely like his nanny. 

“You may be young, but I do not believe in blinding the youth. Ask your father what your uncle truly does—ask why your uncle was the last to request your nanny’s presence. Do not go further into these woods. Your golden hair and good heartedness will not provide you the kindness and security that your towering palace walls do.” The washerwoman wrings out the shirt before tossing it into her wicker basket. She grabs the other items from the rock—somehow already dry despite just being set down—and tosses them into the basket as well. “Your nanny was a fae. It would be wise, young prince, to begin asking why so many of the fae that once served you are now absent.” 

Silver stares at the washerwoman in mute shock as she rises, tucking the wicker basket under her arm with a blank expression once more. Now that she was standing he could see other aspects of her indicative of her heritage. Her nails are clawed, her skin unnaturally pallid, and the hem of her skirt is stained like the clothing she cleans. She looks like death incarnate—and despite his child's mind, Silver begins to realize that something is deeply amiss. 

“I don’t…” he begins, wanting to know more, wanting to ask the woman what she knows about his nanny. Tears threaten to spill from his eyes as he scrambles to his feet. The wooden sword attached to his hip now feels even more worthless than before. 

The washerwoman hesitates. Her kind is not apt to console, or express kindness—she washes the clothing of those about to meet their end in a dispassionate manner. But the look of loss on Silver’s face and the harrowing future she sees before him causes her hand to reach out and tenderly brush back a few strands of his golden hair. It’s a brief comfort that she offers before drawing back. “Go home. It will soon be time for you to grow up, and you must not allow yourself to be blinded by those around you.” 

These are the last words she speaks before Silver blinks and she’s gone. The only traces of her are the wet stains on the rocks and the faint, lingering scent of copper. He can feel hot tears running down his cheeks, which he wipes away with a sniffle before grabbing his wooden sword again. 

His nanny is gone, and his family knows where she went. The sting of betrayal lingers in Silver’s chest as he turns heel and begins to run back down the path he came from. Even though he’s still a child, he knows now that something is amiss—and he’s going to find the truth, no matter what may stand in his way.