#they have fins instead of hair!!

[saym0-0]

okokokokok mermay post attempt 3 :D

so basically its an erasermic mermaid/quirkless au where eraser (+oboro but he died rip) is human and mic is a siren/merman they 'discovered' as teenagers :D

look at my tags if u wanna know the Lore™ i ran out of tags rip

still not sure on mic's colours but whatever we vibe

[camping-with-monsters]

That rabid dog Undyne except if I was the one designing her ig

[coconutcows]

What’s really a tragedy is we never got a monster high movie/doll set where the ghouls had to enter a horse race to save the school and they each got their own horse that just coincidentally matched them and they all don’t know anything about horses until a new character or three explains about bonds with your mount and then there’s a montage of them giving their horses makeovers to show them bonding and then they win the big derby with their freaky fabulous mounts and also Bloodgood would get a fancy new outfit and not have been exclusive and they would all be dressed like cowboys and the word ‘cowghoul’ would be used but instead we got those weird little centaur kids to compete with my little pony

[tojipie]

shiu x fem!reader x toji

content: (fem reader, heavy smut, soo much praise, filming sex, spitroasting, eiffel tower position, threesome, blowjobs, face fucking, cumming on face, aftercare)

summary: just another day at work ! :) nothing raunchy going on here

“fuck, that’s perfect,” shiu mumbles, crouching to get a better shot of where you and toji meet. 

the man rutting into you takes the note as a compliment, bucking his hips back to slam to the hilt. the guttural moan he draws out of you is nothing short of sinful, earning you a laugh from the cameraman.

“oh, the guys at home are gonna fucking love that,” he chuckles, standing to grab a shot of you laying face down, ass up on the leather couch.

a calloused hand raises your face to the camera, squeezing your cheeks into a pucker. you smile, taking note of your fucked out demeanor in the camera reflection. 

“feel good, pretty girl?” toji asks, still gripping your face. 

“mmhm,” you groan, making a show of rolling your eyes back into your head. 

the cameraman looks more than pleased, palming himself over his cheap dress pants. 

“such a treat to have in the studio, y’know that?” he wipes a mascara-filled tear while you look up at him for a brief moment. “driving me fucking crazy.”

the incessant pap-pap-pap of toji’s hips against your ass echo among the walls of the small casting room, nearly drowning out the praise with how hard he’s fucking you. still, you smile, letting the suit-clad cameraman brush your hair from your face.

“where’d you learn how to take dick like this, huh?” toji teases, switching his grip from your face to your shoulders. your scene partner uses his newfound leverage to pull you back onto his cock, groaning at the new angle. 

“only like this with you,” you moan, clenching at the sounds of approval both men give you.

“what, you forget about me?” shiu asks, feigning jealousy for the sake of the scene.

toji leans forward, chest-to-back as he whispers something in your ear. hard, deep thrusts slow to a grind as he speaks to you. you nod, giggling at shiu’s pointed look of confusion.

“what’s wrong?” the cameraman mouths, moving to turn the camera off. you beckon him over to the couch instead, jolting from the pick-up of your scene partner’s thrusts.

the two men share a look as you readjust the camera, gauging the shot in the crystalline glint of the lens. perfect, you think. he was going to love this. 

deft hands make haste with his belt, undoing the buckle ever so slowly. the two of you lock eyes for just an instant as his face contorts into a grin, setting the camera on his shoulder to throw his belt off to the side. 

“oh i get love too now?” he teases, unbuttoning his bottoms and letting you get to work. his ironed suit jacket hits the floor, dress shirt half open. 

“you’ve fucked her before genius,” toji adds, slowing the pace of his thrusts to let you work on the cameraman. he was right, off and on camera even.

shiu’s hard, unbearably so when you free him from his boxers and take him into your mouth. you can practically feel how difficult it is for him to not blow his load right then and there, especially after watching you and toji go at it for half an hour with no stimulation of his own.

“hah fuck— she knows what i like, right?” the question is rhetorical, he wants you to take the bait. 

and take the bait you do, pulling off his dick just enough to swirl your tongue around his aching tip.

the noise you earn is more than pornographic, it’s downright sinful, egging you on as you move to take him to the base. 

“you seein’ this?” shiu gasps, panning the camera up to toji who has since stopped fucking you to watch. thick, deft fingers come up to rub at your clit instead, making up for the lost simulation. 

shiu’s free hand reaches down to nestle into your hair, pulling taught. a quick look to make sure the camera lines up is all he gives you before deft hips snap forward, fucking your throat with urgency.

the two men share a look briefly, chuckling as toji finally ramps up the pace again. thick, hot lengths penetrate you from either side, overloading your brain with pleasure. 

“look up at the lens for me baby,” shiu gushes, losing his grip on your hair to cradle your cheek in his palm. you push back on the cock currently pummeling your walls, eagerly groaning for the camera.

“aww there we go, always our favorite star.”

the praise goes right to your head, throat opening up to allow more of his length in. he hisses at the stimulation, grumbling a soft “fuck this,” before setting the camera down on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

“oh, that’s a good fucking shot,” toji comments, pleased at the new camera angle. the thought of the studio’s loyal fanbase getting to watch you get spit-roasted by the hottest business partners in the industry pushes you closer to the edge.

“fuck, there.” shiu groans, pulling himself from your throat with an obscene squelch. a whoop rings out from behind you, no doubt from toji as viscous ropes of cum paint your cheeks— you swear you hear them high-five each other.

“shit, sorry about the mess,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all, tapping the head on your closed lips with a fucked-out smile.

salty cum floods your tastebuds as you work to clean his manhood off, pulling back with an audible pop and a smile. “s’ okay shiu.”

“that’s talent right there,” the camera man comments, clearly pleased with your performance. shiu tucks himself back into his dress pants, quietly motioning for you and toji to switch positions.

the raven-haired man wastes no time lifting you into the air, thick hands situated under your thighs for support.

the position alone might have gotten you close enough to come had he still been inside you. you’re held against his standing body only by the hands under your legs, back-to-chest as you face the camera. 

you hike your legs up, locking eyes with shiu as you’re lowered onto toji’s dick a final time. 

the stretch is absolutely obscene, filling you to the brim over and over again as he thrusts into you.

“perfect, perfect guys,” shiu leans closer to get a better shot of your face. “just like that.”

“you wanna tell everybody at home where you want it?” toji asks, biting your shoulder for good measure.

“inside—please.” you sigh, laughing at the obscene groan that sounds from behind the camera. shiu reaches down to rub your swollen clit for you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

hot seed floods your body a second time, warming you from the inside out. the things toji pants into your ear are obscene, overwhelming your senses while shiu’s hand deals out tiny pats to your clit.

you both sink onto the couch for the final time, the soft leather cushions embracing your tired bodies. shiu approaches with the camera, flipping through a couple of scenes to seek your shared approval.

you sit quietly as you're wiped down with a wet towel, still attached to toji at your most intimate points.

“tired angel? need to wash off?” he asks, maneuvering you on his dick to straddle him.

“yes please,” you mumble happily, resting your head on his shoulder. two sets of hands gently caress your body, wiping the last drops of fluid from your sweaty skin.

“you’re gonna make us all millionaires, i swear,” shiu mumbles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before stepping into the bathroom to draw you a bath.

[shirecorn]

It's hard to understand the form of a flamboyant cuttlefish "mermaid" within the glamorous swirling frills. Thankfully, we were able to invite a common cuttlefish to appear alongside him, before she excused herself to camouflage into her surroundings.

Like octopus, cuttlefish people are not mermaids, but are called cecaelias, by humans, or "mirrors" by mermaids. While mermaids evolved from fish and cecaelias evolved from mollusks, they still appear to be humanoid creatures.

What we interpret as the "head" is actually the cacaelia's main body, and the "face" is their back. Rather than evolving humanoid eyes and mouth, they instead use the chromatophores (shifting color cells) to make a pseudoface with which to interact with mermaids, and eventually humans. Their true eyes see out on either side of their head, looking like human ears or mermaid head fins. What serves as "hair" is actually a long membranous frill, that is using for swimming and steering around when not navigating with their long tentacles.

Sprouting from the "head" is the rest of the "body" which is formed entirely of tentacles that split and merge into an imitation of mermaid anatomy.

Instead of two slits for display pouches like mermaids, they have a single slit in the middle of their chest that is someone sunken in. This split can be opened to reveal their true mouth: a sharp beak made of chitin.

Below the "chest" is the "waist" and then the "tail," all of which are actually just tentacle arms, much like octopus and squid.

These are intelligent, sentient creatures just like mermaids, with rich lives and personalities. To meet one is a privilege, but I say that about every creature in this world. Every new discovery makes life more colorful, especially the ones with chromatophores!

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Fish are friends (?). You are not food.

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3]

The Siren wasn’t leaving.

Which a part of you had been expecting. Because surely if there had been a snowball’s chance in Hell of him making it out into the open ocean alive before you’d cut through the ropes, he would have taken it and left you stranded without a second thought. And his odds weren’t that much better now—his fins were still a mangled mess and the wounds all along his scales and dainty featherings were still raw and oozing. It only made sense that he’d take at least a few days to try and recover.

But… But still.

Did he have to make it so obvious that he was sticking around?

The glint of the light off his tail was a constant distraction—always bright and eye-catching even at the cloudiest points of the day. Always flashing just out of the corner of your eye as a perpetual reminder that there was something in the water that would very happily gobble you up if you bothered making a swim for safety.

He’d also taken to sunning himself. Like some kind of overgrown mer-cat. Stretched out languidly on a flat rock with the tips of his violet fins hanging over the edge—just enough for the gauzy edges to play along the surf and avoid drying out entirely. His pale hair splayed out in a halo around him as he snoozed softly in the heat of the afternoon.

Which! No fair! This wasn’t a vacation! This was a stranding! An SOS! A Rose Queen Procedural Rule Four-Hundred-and-Four! And him taking up the whole of the cove to, I don’t know, tan, felt like another intentional slap in the face. The sun rose over the bay, which meant this stretch of shore was facing East. Which was the direction your vessel had been coming from. Which meant that this was the place on the little islet where you needed to be. Subsection Three of Procedural Four-O’-Four. ‘In the case of Crew Overboard, we will always travel the same route as planned. In order to give the Strandee a chance to map out a reconnection point.’ Riddle always had been so smart about these kinds of things.

‘It’s just until he’s better,’ you reassured yourself for the umpteenth time that morning. ‘Then he’ll leave and I can get rescued or die here alone and in peace.’

A fin flicked up from the shallows to spray you with saltwater splatters and you spluttered indignantly when it ran down into your eyes. You glared at the Siren’s retreating back, musing bitterly about how you’d never thought it was possible for someone to make the tuck of their shoulders look smug.

‘Alone and in peace,’ you repeated hopefully. And it sounded like such far off dream.

.

.

On the second day post-rope-removal, the Siren waved you down with a sharp flick of his wrist.

You approached the waterline hesitantly, still mostly waiting for him to turn on you and make toothpicks out of your bones. But instead of murdering you and getting crafty with your corpse, he just pointed to some scribbles in the sand. You squinted at the loop-de-loops suspiciously. It almost looked like an illustration of dancing bubbles—the lot of them curling and popping along the ground in a line like a limerick. 

“Uhm, very nice,” you tried, and the fins flattened pissilly all along the side of his head.

He jabbed his claw towards the mess again. Then firmly at your eyes (hopefully not as a threat that he’d be happy to take them right out of your head if you continued to be obtuse). And then back again. He made a point to move the tip of his sharp nail from one swirl to the next in a little hop-hop-hop. It reminded you a bit deliriously of Riddle trying to teach some of the more socially bereft members of the crew their letters, and—

“You want me to read that?” you gaped, staring at the elegant curls of nonsense in the sand.

The Siren crossed his arms across his lean chest with a scoff that puffed past his lips hard enough to fluff out some of the paler, purple-tipped, hair hanging by his chin. He rolled his eyes at you and muttered something thin and spicy under his breath that you just knew had to be some sort of insult.

“I can read!” you defended, because it felt like it needed defending.

He leveled you with an entirely unimpressed ‘Oh, I’m sure you can’ sneer and you dropped to your knees, incensed. You dug your fingers into the sand and started sculpting out your own very cheery message into the muck.

When you were done, you waved a hand towards your proclamation and watched his brows pull together at the center into a teeny, pinched sort of expression. He let himself roll forward with the seafoam to lay more fully on the shore, and stared down at the mess you’d made like it was some strange code. Even reaching out to poke softly at the straight edge of a ‘T’ with one of his knife-sharp talons.

After a long moment of contemplation, he looked back up at you with an arched brow that was so unintentionally poised and not full of spite that it almost took your breath away. Who knew how pretty an already stunning face could become when it wasn’t twisted up in absolute vitriol? You shook away that absolutely damning thought in horror. That’s exactly what he’d want you to think. Siren, and all. Using his hotness to lure people onto his dinner table. Not you, baby. Because you were smart. And so gross from being stranded under island sunshine for a week that surely you’d taste like some absolutely rancid jerky at this point.

“Oh no,” you droned, and immediately that subtle curiosity of his ticked right back into irritation. “Two creatures from entirely different species and ecosystems have somehow managed to develop unique alphabets. What a completely unpredictable complication.”

The Siren puffed up like an angry lionfish and turned with a snarl to dive back into the shallows—making sure to whip his tail in your face and slam into the water with a huge splash as he went. The salt spray pelted down like rain and you snickered as it sloughed off your cheeks in rivulets, content to sit merrily in the wet sand beside your hastily scribbled: ‘Mermen Are Vicious Bitches. Hit Me if You Agree :)’

.

.

The next morning, there were more fish on the shoreline. Though these ones looked a bit less like they’d been dragged up by their souls and left to writhe in the wake of Siren-Screaming-Agony and more just like the unfortunate victims of a pair of too sharp claws.

You frowned down at a brown, sad-looking flounder that had clearly found itself at the very wrong end of a certain merman still swanning about in the bay not fifty feet away. It was mostly intact, and pleasantly plump for a flat, pancake-looking blob of muck. Your stomach gurgled and the thought of a nice, coal-charred, fillet really seemed quite nice. You chanced another peek at your resident Asshole, debating if it was worth swiping his snack. Another ominous rumble from your abdomen and you reached down to steal your prize and scuttle off deeper inland like a troll returning to its layer.

It didn’t take very long to get a small fire going, and within the hour you’d been fed and were more than ready for a cozy, full-bellied nap in the soft sand.

By the time you began to make your way back to the cove, the sun was high in the sky and you were already dreading sitting beneath its weighted rays for another afternoon. So you slowed your pace to a near snail crawl, dragging your feet as you went.

The little octopus from earlier was still swaying contentedly around the tide pool you’d shoved it into. It probably needed to be carried back out to the bay at some point so that it could swim back into the depths of the ocean, but the poor thing was just so small and round. Surely it’d get devoured by the first sharp-toothed thing that caught sight of it. Especially with your merman apparently being out for the blood of whatever other scaly things were swimming about in his temporary home. So for now you slipped it some small bits of leftover fish instead. You sat, crouched at the pool’s edge, and watched raptly as it grabbed the shredded bits of pale meat with its chubby tentacles to shove towards an eager beak.

“You’re the only friend I have left in the whole world,” you told the octopus miserably, wiping the greasy remnants of your lunch off your chin with a sigh.

The traitor hurriedly moved to snatch up the treat you’d offered it and hide itself away between some rocky crevices. You sighed louder. Rejected. What a time to be alive. 

.

.

The next morning, the Siren was singing again.

That familiar prickle danced its way up your arms, leaving pinpricks of goosebumps in its wake. Some pirates told tales of storms leaving their mark in such a way—that seasoned sailors could feel the tickle of thunder against their skin long before they could spot dark clouds on the horizon. You’d have to amend that little legend whenever you found your way back to The Rose Queen. Siren Sense was a lot cooler, anyways. Any idiot with arthritis could tell you when rain was due.

But either way, Mister Merman was back to idly circling the bay and calling into the distance. At least it wasn’t as miserable as it had been the other day—more of a leisurely pacing than the frantic, near-feral caterwauling that had soured your gut so terribly.

There was another fat fish on the shore. A bright, red snapper so brilliantly crimson that it was almost impossible to make out the garish wounds in its side. Almost. And even if it hadn’t been, the drooping, rust colored, rivulets dug into the sand would have been enough of a clue.

Why the Siren was bothering to leave his clawed-up kills at your feet like some overgrown cat dragging in mice, you had no idea. Maybe he was poisoning them, and subsequently you. Maybe he was bored and it was some sort of fishy enrichment. Maybe he just didn’t want to bother leaving dead things around to contaminate his favorite sunning spots, and tossing his leftovers in your vicinity was as close to a reliable dumpster as he could find on a remote island. Who’s to say.

Either way, you dutifully ignored the magical tingles racing up your shoulders and brought the newest fish back to your makeshift firepit. You grilled the snapper in silence, debating. Then you fed your octopus friend and returned to the beach, cooked fillets in tow.

You waited in awkward silence for a few moments, fish burning your palms, before raising your fingers to your lips and whistling loud enough to make your teeth ache. The mystical static faded from the air and you watched in pleasant (?) surprise as the Siren made his way back to where you’d set up camp. He rolled in with the tide, cresting on a gentle bit of surf and coming to rest neatly in the shallows—fins splayed out beneath him like a lord lying amidst his many silken robes. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an arched brow and slanted frown.

You awkwardly extended a hand—roasted snapper still resting in your open palm and burning the absolute fuck out of your fingers.

“Uhm,” you said, feeling a bit too much like the local idiot trying to feed one of the rabid, wandering, strays around town. “Food?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at you.

“Do you want food?” you tried.

The other brow joined the first, nearly rising all the way into his hairline. It wasn’t a pleasant sort of surprise.

“It’s better cooked?” you coaxed in the face of his outright constipated scowl. Be fed and full, you thought hopefully. Maybe then you won’t fucking look at me like I’m a boxed lunch.

He jabbed a sharpened, black talon in your direction, and then pointedly again angled up towards your mouth. Then back to the fish still roasting your poor cuticles straight off your fingers.

You blinked, a bit thrown.

“What? It’s supposed to be for me?”

He nodded, throwing in another one of those bombastically snarky eyerolls for good measure. ‘Obviously,’ that sneer said.

“Well,” you huffed, plopping down to sit cross-legged in the sand and offering up one of the fillets. “There’s plenty for both of us.” When he stared at you like you were attempting to serve him up a choice pile of literal dog shit, you wiggled your hand and entreated, “Please just take it before my skin melts off.”

The Siren huffed and reached out, plucking up the fish with the tips of his claws. He observed your meager meal as one might a particularly unappealing cockroach, and after a long moment, his nose scrunched (cute, you thought absently before immediately suffocating every wayward braincell that would dare call your murderous shore-neighbor anything of the sort) and he leaned forward to nip at a crisped, pink corner with the barest edge of one canine.

When your culinary creation didn’t immediately strike him dead on the spot, he took another, equally dainty bite. And then another. The tight pucker of his mouth eased as he chewed, and you watched as the harsh cut of his purple irises warmed with that same intrigue as they had when you’d first scribbled your foreign letters into the sand.

He readjusted his grip on the fish between his claws to get a better angle and took a proper bite, chewing thoughtfully. Before you knew it, you were watching him nip at the pads of his fingers, his gaze going a bit round and shocked when he realized that he’d devoured the entirety of it.

“See?” you hummed, tucking into your own portion with gusto. “Not all things humans come up with are terrible.” He harumphed and turned to glare back out over the bay, slouching into the surf with an expression that was most certainly not a pout. “But maybe you’d know that if you bothered to do anything other than murder and devour us on sight,” you chirped.

To which you were immediately doused with an armful of water for your troubles. The Siren glowered petulantly from where he’d just wave-bombed you, and then dove back into the deeper waters of the sandbar. He immediately started up his stupid singing all over again—pointedly keeping his chin high above the surface and splashing brine into your face anytime he looped close enough to shore.

“I don’t know why I bother,” you huffed, and ate your sopping snapper in grumpy silence.

.

.

There was a ship wrecked off the coast.

Nothing overly cool, and definitely only a small chunk of what had probably at one point been a rather impressive vessel. But it was something. The first change in pace you’d had in days and oozing with possibilities.

The only problem was that the great, rotting, hull of the thing was dug up into a jagged skerry about a hundred yards off the shore—wedged into the pointed rocks with no chance of any wave or breeze sending it adrift. You could swim perfectly well. I mean, living your life on a ship surrounded by tumultuous, depthless, ocean would have been a hugely stupid career move otherwise. The issue, naturally, was the thing currently making its home in these waters. Sharks and barracudas, blablabla. They were just animals, no matter how many teeth they had. The Siren had a grudge. And just as many teeth.

Right now, said spiky pain in your ass was lounging in the shallows like the froth was an elegant daybed made just for him—shredded fins swaying in the soft tides and his hair floating about him that same, white-gold halo that made him look far too peaceful for anyone’s good sense. He wasn’t singing today, which was great for the local wildlife population but terrible for your Siren Sense. Once you waded into the waves, you’d have no real way to keep track of him. Hope, maybe, that he didn’t think fucking with you was worth messing up whatever tan-line he had going on. But nothing concrete that you’d be willing to bet the safety of your limbs on.

You wiggled your toes in the sand and stared longingly out at the stupid, wrecked ship that was so stupidly close. If you swam your fastest you could probably make it there in under two minutes—less than that, even. But that was still more than enough time for the Siren to rake those dark claws of his across your throat and drag you down into the depths to drown.

Riddle’s angry, red face swam through your thoughts, and you could practically see him shoving that beloved law tome of his under your nose for the umpteenth time.

‘Rule 32, never make dangerous bets that you’re certain you won’t win, particularly if you are betting against a Blue Nosed Beetle.’

‘Rule 15, do not needlessly sacrifice your life in the name of curiosity, excluding—of course—if you hail from Cheshire or are a Cat.’

‘It’s only a dumb shipwreck,’ you thought miserably, if rationally. ‘It’s probably not even that cool.’

Your captain would be so proud.

.

.

The next morning you were rolling up the cuffs on your pants and wading into the cool shallows, silently lighting a candle in your heart for your beloved, steam-faced leader and promising that you would at the very least cover the costs of your own funeral so as not to inconvenience him further.

The waves lapped against your ankles and the waters themselves were shockingly clear and blue. You could practically see each grain of sand beneath your heels—make out each pointy rock and the little, red crabs that scuttled away from your tromping like civilians fleeing from the shadow of a leviathan. The Siren was back to singing today. Perhaps his poor, overworked throat simply needed a break every now and again. But either way, your Merman Magic Missive was working in full force. The hairs on your arms stood at full attention and you liked to imagine you could see them twitching in circles to follow his long, looping arcs through the bay.  

You made it up to your knees and waited, eyes scanning the open water and nose twitching like maybe you could smell the fucker. There was nothing but a familiar prickle along your shoulders and that deep sense of ‘tug tug tug’ with no answer, so you took a deep breath and pushed further, the water sloshing up to your hips, your chest, and finally you were floating—paddling slow and cautious towards the wreckage.

It really was insanely close. Even moving at your most cautious, sneakiest crawl, you’d made it nearly three-quarters of the way there within perhaps five minutes. And no signs of a vengeful, hungry Siren circling the waters beneath you either. More rules that perhaps that you’d have to tell Riddle might need some amending  once you finally made it back home to your crew. ‘Dangerous bets,’ who? ‘Needless sacrifice,’ what? You might as well have outsmarted the whole ocean.

As you moved closer, you could make out a strange coat of arms on the side of the hull that you didn’t recognize. Twining, silver songbirds soaring against the sparkly backdrop of an otherwise plain faced crest, which honestly looked far too delicate to be heading the broken remains of what was no doubt at one point an absolute monster of a vessel. You reached out to brush your fingers against the shining plaque and then you were underwater.

You fought the immediate impulse to gasp in surprise, because expediting the process of your inevitable drowning just seemed stupid even by your standards. There was a clawed hand wrapped around your calf yanking you down, and you squinted through a stream of panicked bubbles to see your terrible, horrible, completely thankless co-strandee snarling up at you with sharp teeth and a sharper flail of his delicate gills. Thankfully the water wasn’t all that deep, so by the time you’d been dragged to the bottom you were maybe only ten feet under. But still. It was the goddamn principle! And besides, you’d heard about enough drunks drowning in puddles to know that this was more than enough Liquid Death to put you in an early grave.

The Siren looped around you in tight circles, and you could feel the brush of his tattered fins against your skin like the ghostly fingers of a reaper trailing down your spine. You’d known he was big—giant, even. Long, and impressive, and built to rule the very depths he’d dragged you into. Large enough to wrestle with sharks and capsize lifeboats. Big enough, no doubt, to eat you whole and still be hungry enough for seconds.

The salt stung your eyes and you blinked hard to keep his vibrant, amethyst tail in focus. Would he strike from the back, where you couldn’t see? Or would he go right for your throat—a direct, full frontal, ‘fuck you, human’ if there ever was one. And honestly, what were you expecting? That a good deed and a few pieces of cooked fish would sway him from devouring you whole? Maybe the island sun had fried whatever remained of your rattled brain.  

He stopped in front of you and hissed—a stream of tight, tiny, bubbles jetting past his canines. You glared in petulant confusion, absolutely refusing to give your would-be murderer whatever reaction he was hoping for. His brow pinched into a tight, angry, v and he snarled again. You snarled back, and with that, the last breath in your lungs swooped out of you in a tight squeak. You choked, and struggled, and kicked at the claws holding you down. The Siren reared back, eyes widening in something that looked insultingly like genuine surprise, and you used his moment of hesitation to propel yourself off the sandbar and back to the choppy surface.

You gasped in a hasty breath, expecting to immediately be dragged back under. But when you weren’t pulled back down to your watery grave, you took in another and another. Gasping, and hacking, and spitting up seafoam. The Siren’s head crested the surface beside you and you flailed away, nearly pushing yourself under all over again. You paddled frantically, trying to keep your nose above the tide, and then suddenly there was something under you. You squawked and kicked it on instinct. The Siren snapped his pointy teeth in your face and you realized with a start that oh. That was him, wasn’t it? The long, winding, scaled muscles of his tail curled beneath your toes in what almost seemed like an attempt to keep you upright.

He stared at you with those unnervingly bright eyes of his—blonde hair curling softly at the edges where it plastered elegantly along his finned ears, and those too-long lashes dripping with small, sparkly, drops of salt water.

“What the hell is this bullshit?” you choked, coughing up more bubbly froth. “You don’t get to look so—so put together after trying to murder me!”  

The Siren huffed out something that the delusional, still half-drowned, part of you wanted to classify as a laugh. And then he organized that bemused expression back into its usual, haughty, iciness and began to carefully make his way back towards the shore—towing you along like a poor, little, lost buoy with nowhere else to go.

You let him drag you up into the sand and only flopped around a little. He flicked his tail at you and your dramatics and you turned on him with a fierce, waterlogged scowl—a bit more confident now that he didn’t have the home field advantage.

“What was that for! I just wanted to look at the ship! I wasn’t even doing anything to you!” you wailed. “I haven’t done anything to you at all! Ever! Why do you keep—" you collapsed back into the sand with a miserable whine that rattled all the teeth in your head, and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes until you saw stars.

After a long moment of nothing, you felt a gentle tap at your shoulder.

You looked back up with a start to see Mister Merman looking nearly sheepish.Or as much of an equivalent that his aloof mask of a face was capable of pulling off. The clawed finger resting at your collarbone dropped to the sand by your hip, and he carefully began to draw more of those squiggles. No, scratch that. Not the dancing, popping, ones from the other day. These actually looked sort of like the silver songbirds from that shipwreck. More jagged, certainly. But similar enough that you felt something a bit too coldly cautious to be confusion seep through your guts.

Once he was finished, he looked up and met your gaze—sharp, pointed. And then he reached back out and smeared the birds into nothing and shook his head, firm. His red lips moved slowly, exaggerated, again and again. And you could make out the vague shape of words you’d had shouted at you a hundred times over.

‘Not safe.’

That same, shivery, nervous feeling bit at your limbs.

“…okay,” you said after a moment. And then leaned forward to dig your own fingers into the sand, dutifully ignoring how your elbows knocked against his own.

‘Not safe,’ you wrote, and watched his eyes trace each letter like a treasure map.

There was another tap at your shoulder. And then he pointed to the words in the muck, then to himself.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes. You’re not safe either.”

He sighed dramatically enough to ruffle the ends of your still soaked hair. And then pointed to the words again, tapping at the ‘N’ with the curved tip of a claw.

“Nnnn?” you mouthed, confused.

He moved to the ‘o’ next and it clicked.

“You want me to teach you how to read my letters?” you asked, flabbergasted. Another sigh, like you’d dropped the weight of all the world on his pale shoulders. Or perhaps that your idiocy was enough to put that hearty mass to shame. You decided that you were still feeling a bit too much like you’d only just barely escaped a brush with death, dismemberment, and dinner plans to push your luck with sassing him back too harshly, and just blinked owlishly in dazed surprise. “But why?”

His purple eyes trailed in the direction of the shipwreck and something cutting and poisonous clouded his expression. He pointed to the words again.

‘Not safe.’

“Alright,” you said, looking out over the water with a strange sort of sinking feeling in your gut. You leaned forward and began to draw the alphabet at your feet. His tail twitched by your fingers and you ignored the soft brush of his still-healing fins. “This one’s an ‘A’, like in ‘Asshole’—"

Whomp went the tail as he cracked it across your knuckles like a school matron with a ruler. And you couldn’t help the startled burst of genuine, tinkling laughter that bubbled past your lips for the first time since you’d been dragged overboard.

.

.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

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[red-writes]

On a dark and stormy night

professor! izuku midoriya x student! reader

summary: reader is in love with her professor and izuku is weak when it comes to you...

content contains: daddy kink, spanking, squirting, smut, the nickname 'little girl', reader gets her back blown out.

red's note: a little darker than what I typically write also am I slowly developing a daddy kink? who knows

it's pouring outside but you're not willing to turn around now. your hair is sticking to your face, your jeans are clingy and cold and you can't seem to rid yourself of the chill that the poor weather brings you. your finger hovers over the doorbell, hand shaking as you decide to press the small button. you've been to his house so many times but it feels different right now, feels like you're making a mistake. the lightning that cracks in the sky makes you jump and almost solidifies that gut feeling as truth but as you're about to turn around the door opens.

"y/n?" he asks, then he gasps and pulls you inside. his house is warm and yet you still don't stop shivering.

"you're soaking wet-- how did you get here?" he asks as he runs to the sofa and drapes you in a blanket, every time you've come to his house he always drove you seeing as he lived further than any professor on campus. he ushers you from the doorway after you kick off your shoes and you don't open your mouth to respond, instead you grab his arm and he halts in his tracks.

"are you okay? what's going--" his words get caught in his throat as he witnesses you. you've dropped the blanket onto the floor and you begin undoing the clasp on the front of your top before it slides off your shoulders.

"'m cold professor.." you say, voice small and izuku swallows hard as you unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your thighs before kicking them away. you unhook your bra and let your breasts free for deku's eyes to swallow whole.

"please warm me up" you plead as you reach for his hand and place it on your hot mound. izuku swallows yet again and his mouth is held open for a moment before he speaks, shocked at your bold display.

"you don't know what you're doing..what you're asking me to do" he says, but doesn't move his hand.

"don't you want me professor?" you look down at the erection poking against the fabric of his sweatpants. "it looks like you do"

he shakes his head 'no' but again makes no move to push you away and so you walk closer to him, so close that your chests are pressed against each other and he sucks in a breath, he can feel how hard your nipples are through the thinness of his t-shirt. he can't do this, he shouldn't do this. you're his student, someone who admires and looks up to him by indulging in this he would be way out of bounds. he could lose his job, he could lose everything.

"y/n..you're just confused. I know, after having those conversations about your life growing up and your father not really being there for you, having a person like me step into that role has you wanting to cling onto me, to have me fill the void of your dad but I'm not him and we shouldn't be doing this. if you leave now, I'll forget it ever happened. I'll pretend I never saw you like this" he states, firmly although his voice wavers when he feels your wetness soak his fingers from over your panties.

"fine" you say and pull away from him, izuku is relieved, thinking you've finally come to your senses but instead you pull down your underwear and kick them to the side, you bend over the back of his couch and spread your pussy lips open for him to see.

"you're right professor, I want you to be my daddy." you turn your head behind you to look at him and your fingers find your clit as you rub circles onto the twitching bud. "professor, don't you want to be my daddy? please say yes daddy...I need you" you moan and izuku's cock drips pre-cum into his underwear, cock hard and pulsing at your words. his feet are glued to the floor but his eyes are focused on every sway of your hips, every press of your fingers onto your clit.

"daddy, please, come fuck me daddy" you whine as you slip two fingers in your soaking cunt and begin fucking yourself with them. izuku curses under his breath and walks over to you taking your fingers out your cunt, he uses that same arm to pull you up and he smashes his mouth against yours. your hands are quick to find the band of his of sweatpants and shoving the grey fabric down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock. you lean back over the couch and he strokes his cock a few times before pressing the reddened mushroom tip against your fluttering hole. in one even thrust he's fully seated inside of you. the girth of his cock had your hands squeezing the back of the couch for dear life. every thrust he gave you felt like he was knocking the wind straight out of your lungs.

"does my little girl like that? does she love the feeling of her daddy's cock stretching her out?" and your cunt squeezes around his cock at the sound of the nickname falling from his lips.

"yes daddy!" you cry and he does as you ask, his thrusts become harder, rocking your body forward and his cock grinds against that soft spot inside your cunt, making your eyes roll as his fat tip assaults it with ease. he slaps your ass and the sting has your cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and izuku nearly cums at the feeling. he raises his hand and slaps your ass again, this time you cum from the burning sensation left behind on your ass cheek. your eyes roll back into your head and your body trembles underneath him as your orgasm washes over you. but he doesn't stop, he keeps spanking you until your ass is raw and bruised just so he can feel that vice-like grip on his cock. you're well past overstimulated, the feeling of getting your cunt fucked on top of having your ass spanked until it was painful had yet another orgasm drawn out of you a rush of liquid shot out of your cunt and onto the man behind you as well as the floor.

"no..stop daddy 'm squirting! stop stop aah!" you cried but he didn't, he couldn't, not when the girl he'd been lusting after for months finally forces his hand. not when he was so close to cumming. izuku looked up from the place where you two met and looked at your fucked-out face, eyes hazy with drool dripping out the side of your mouth. with a mumbled 'fuck' he felt his balls tighten as he came. his hips didn't stop immediately, his thrusts were shallow and he laid on top of you as he finished emptying his load into you.

he only moved off of you when he felt himself soften inside of you. when he pulled away a mixture of your cum dripped out of you and onto the floor beneath you.

"let's get you cleaned up" he says and you stand back up on wobbly legs and walk until you sit on the couch. he follows you and you pull him by his t-shirt to the floor in front of you and it's clear what you want him to do.

"daddy will you eat your little girls pussy, please?"

izuku gulps. his eyes dart from your eyes to your swollen, ruined cunt. his cock was already beginning to swell with blood once more. you were dangerous but izuku just couldn't resist you.

[violet-butterflies]

❥︎ yandere! Merman

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ sexual harassment, kidnapping ( male yandere! oc x gn reader ) Click to see part 2 and a nsfw spin-off !

It was a dark and stormy night when you first met the merman. You were a lighthouse keeper on a tiny island that was not densely populated. The people that did live on the island were mostly fishermen that lead a peaceful and simple life. However, this night was not peaceful. The storm was roaring and the tides were filled with rage.

You simply went to town to buy a few things and maybe grab a drink with the friendly residents when the storm picked up, forcing you to retreat inside a cave near the sea. You thought it was dangerous since the cave could be flooded when the tides were high but the thunder and lightning seemed even more dangerous since you were walking around the beach with no trees in sight.

You expected to be bored inside a moist and salty-smelling cave but what happened was far from what you had expected.

Inside was a beautiful and ethereal merman who stared at you with wide and scared eyes. He had long white hair that was decorated with seaweed and pearls. He had nothing on, showing off his well-toned body. The most unbelievable part was the fact that instead of legs, there was a long and shimmering silver tail that was covered in scars and a fin that looked like it had a hole in it.

You awkwardly tried to approach it, trying to not scare the merman but failing since he started to thrash in the small pool of water in the cave.

"Shh, shh, shh... I'm not gonna hurt you," you said quietly and gently. The merman must've sensed that you meant no harm as he let you come closer.

The trust only grew when you spent the night, trying to help treat his injuries with the very minimal supplies that you had.

The next few weeks, you'd come and accompany the merman inside the cave. Not only that, you'd come and bring him food and books to show him. Your days mostly consisted of nothing before sunset when your job actually starts anyways so you had plenty of time to spare. Of course, you kept his existence a secret since you didn't want to bring any harm to your new friend.

It was odd though, his wounds have long healed but he kept lingering in the cave. You were on your wits end as you didn't know what he wanted and he can't speak English. You tried teaching him but, you weren't sure if it was because he was half fish, but he was not the smartest being.

You were about to stand and leave the cave to do your job before the merman snatched your hand and pulled you into the water with him. Startled, your body froze as the merman smiled when he looked at you. He hugged you and began to kiss your neck. Not only that, he began clawing at your clothes as he gave you a passionate kiss. You eventually snapped out of it before biting the merman's tongue hard to surprise him into letting you go. You quickly swam back to land and looked at the water with wide eyes. The merman looked at you with a look of surprise and desperation as he tried to go on land to take you back into his hands.

That obviously didn't work though since you ran out before he could even begin to get his whole body out of the water.

You didn't bother coming back to the cave since you felt scared and confused at the incident.

The merman basically forced himself on you but on the other hand, he was a mermaid that probably didn't know anything about human knowledge or consent. Still, though, you felt uncomfortable and it was probably better to leave him alone so he can go back into the ocean.

You didn't expect to ever see him again until you saw a familiar figure flopping on the beach just in front of your secluded lighthouse. In an instant, your eyes went wide as you rushed out to the merman before anyone sees him.

As soon as you came into the merman's line of sight, his eyes lights up and began trying to flop faster towards you.

"What are you doing here?! You can be here!"

"I... I sorryyyy" the merman attempted to say with a slow and dragged accent. You can't help but feel surprised since you didn't expect him to remember anything you tried to teach him.

You somehow got him back into the ocean and as you turned around to go back to shore, he pulled you down into the ocean with him. Deeper and deeper until the ocean covers your senses.

[cartoon-brainrot]

I posted these on Twitter one by one, but I was waiting to have the full collection to post them here!

I saw a lot of people draw the MLP as trolls, so I wanted to give it my own spin!

You’ll notice I didn’t just slot them in the main 6 genres, mostly because I just tried to find the genre that would fit them the most! As much as I love funk fluttershy or rarity, I don’t think their music style fits them <3

Fluttershy was the first one! I went with Classical-Metal, (although I debated for folk for quite some time) mostly because I thought that would suit her the most- and because she’s a metalhead in EG! Her hairstyle is taken from one of the outfits she used when she models for photo finish!

PinkiePie was so obviously Hyperpop I didn’t even think about it twice! The music, the colours, the style, the excessive accessories- it all fits her so well!

Applejack is country, I couldn’t take that from her. Just pure old country! I had some trouble with her hair, cause I wanted it to be big and poofy like Delta or Holly’s, but the first sketches weren’t quite right. I changed it at the last minute and I’m glad I did, because now I absolutely love it! And yes, her hat is more like a hairband, it’s missing the top- that’s where she slides the ponytail into!

Twilight was classical- I had no doubts from that, but I thought being a mix between techno and classical would fit her very well! I gave her a sort of gown-like tailfin, and her wings also work as extra fins! All in all, I wanted her to look like a mix between an angel and a jellyfish! Her hair is lighter because it!s always subtly glowing- and also because dark hair wouldn’t work for either classical (who have cotton candy shades) and techno (whose hair is always glowing)

Rarity is still a debate between Classical-Pop and Swing! I thought classical pop was great for her, especially because of her songs, but swing was SUCH a good style and genre for her! A lot of her outfits always have that vintage vibe, and her hairstyle reminded me of the headdresses they used in the 20s-30s!

Rainbowdash is PopRock, obviously. She has goggles for when she flies and her earrings are clear! The pop trolls are all brightly coloured so I kept the rainbow hair instead of using less colours, but I dimmed them so that she would blend in better with the rock theme!

And yes, all 6 of them have their elements on them! It’s just that they’re not all visible!

Twilight has it on her chest, Applejack and Rainbowdash have them on their belts! Pinkie pie has it on a hairclip, Rarity has it on a pin on her dress and fluttershy has it on her back!

[crystalliumdaisy]

redesigning star dresses part 2!

part 1

notes and individuals are below!

virgo ~

- really wanted to step away from that sexy maid aesthetic. my goal was to mix maid with a princess silhouette to reference virgo’s nickname for lucy.

- so i added elements of cinderella’s look like the side fabrics, choker and longer dress.

- using just black is so boring so i brought in some pink and chose to instead use greys

- so many lucy dresses have pigtails so changing the hair also has a more practical element because it’s pulled away.

~ scorpio

- I actually love the og scorpio dress. It’s so different to all the other looks and so easy to distinguish that it’s scorpio.

- i wanted to play into a trackstar / athlete look just so it has an aesthetic that stands out. i also used shapes found in scorpios tail and neck frill in her armour and top.

- i absolutely love the new hair, i wanted it to resemble a scorpion tails! Also just was bored by the normal head band and u know what why not do a cutest bow.

~ sagittarius

- my least fav og dress is is sag. the colour, the lack of shade range and the outfit is just…. yer not cute.

- so i was inspired by more fantasy archers and sag’s colours are screaming cool earthy ranger.

- i think the final result much better resembles sag in the colours and aesthetic.

~ capricorn

- this luxus bad girl moment and i love it. The og one is pretty good but i wanted to fully push it more.

- there’s strands of hair coming out of her bun to resemble horns and belt to resemble a tail.

- the og design is too black so i went with a darker purple to stand out. I didn’t want virgo and capricorns to look like a matching set.

~ aquarius

- there was a lot of pressure to do aquarius well because it’s significant star dress, a fan favourite and my own star sign!

- i leaned more in the mermaid aesthetic by using more fin silhouettes and pearl detailing

- i wanted to make it more practical so a more supported bikini and mini skirt under the fin like fabric.

~ full set

i’m so super proud of these designs and i’ve actually seen an improvement in my art. Maybe in the future i’ll do a piece with all of them or do yukinos dresses so lmk if ur into that.

if ur looked this far ty so much for reading all my notes xxx

[kana-de]

I SAW UR REQS ARE OPEN AND RAN AS FAST AS I COULD 🏃🏃🏃🏃🏃

Could I pretty please have a fluffy wanderer smut with a cuddly reader 😢 u write him so well 🥰

★ summary: wanderer x fem!reader. cuddly smut w soft wanderer.

☆ cw: nsfw. fluffy smut. cuddling. a lot of cuddling. soft touchy wanderer my love. sleepy sex. sex with feelings. wanderer is called 'kuni' in some replicas. 921 words.

you snuggle up closer to wanderer while you're both laying on the bed - so close to each other it even seems there's not much room for the air itself. his breath is on your forehead as your hands find themselves tightening around his body, your face just near his collarbones.

if it'd be someone other than you, he'd break every and each one of their bones.

but it's you.

you whine as a tip of his finger starts to gently, slowly rub your clit through your already wet panties. "mmn... wande-"

"sshhh... i know what you need right now." wanderer coos into your ear gently, and you let out a soft mewl yet again at how his soft, sleepy and raspy voice never fails to make you shudder.

you can't help all the sleepy whimpers that escape your lips as he continues his doings, fin hand now slipping inside your panties to slide the tips of his fingers over your folds, smearing your slick on them.

"inside... please..." you mumble, fingers tugging at the cloth of his bodysuit on his back. "mmm, c'mon.."

wanderer chuckles. "impatient, aren't we? but fine, i won't make you wait too long." he says, his fingertips gliding past your folds, slowly inserting his middle and ring finger inside your cunt - he wouldn't want to overwhelm you right now due to your sleepiness, so he's taking it slow, his digits moving along your clamping walls sensually, so you'll have the time to feel everything.

you bite your lower lip to suppress the need to let out a long whine, instead converting it into a muffled mewl that ends up being with a shaky exhale as his fingers curl up against that sweet spot inside you.

"love my fingers that much, huh?" he grins, laughing quietly as he picks up the pace of his fingers' movements. you nod, humming something inaudible in the crook of his neck.

you, involuntarily, but stop him, grabbing him gently by his wrist and - as much as you didn't want to - pulling his digits out. "mmmn- wait. let me just..."

you quickly make your way out of your undergarments, pushing wanderer to lay on his back as you straddle him, pulling his shorts and boxers in a few swift motions.

"oh, feeling needy now, aren't you?" wanderer taunts, a small chuckle interrupted with how you grind your cunt's folds against his cock, making him exhale shakily. "how greedy of you..." he mumbles in the end.

his hands make their way from your hips to your shoulders, bringing your upper body closer to him, basically hugging you while you're getting ready to ride him. close and tight - just how you like it.

slowly, adjusting yourself, you start putting in his cock inch by inch, biting your lower lip yet again until it's fully settled within you, and you can't help a whine that leaves your mouth. "k-kuni..." you breathe out, voice nearly breaking into a moan from how good it all feels - being so close to him, both you holding eachother in your arms and having him inside at the same time truly is the best compilation to you.

wanderer nearly moans at the feeling of your walls clenching tight around his length as you start moving your hips up and down - how he missed these sloppy, sleepy little sessions of yours.

he holds you close to him, closer than ever before, his hands rubbing gentle circles on your back, and he senses you pressing your forehead into his shoulder, trying to suppress a moan - but failing miserably.

"w-wanderer... kuni, h-hah-" you mutter, voice so weak it even surprises you. wanderer plants a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, on your hair, a subtle attempt to calm you, before one of his hands comes to rest on your hip, guiding your rhythm and making it more fast, with sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the dimly lit room.

"[name], f-fuck- go faster." he whispers, biting at your neck after talking, instantly hearing you whimpering and speeding up your movements. the knot of pleasure that forms in the pit of your stomach is basically going to explode in the next minute if you'll keep up with the pace.

"g-g'nna cum, nghh- i'm gonna-"

he hums quietly in agreement to your words, interrupting you when he feels your cunt tightening around his cock. "i know, i know, just cum with me... you can do it." wanderer mutters encouragingly, hand slightly squeezing your butt to add more to the pleasure.

your hand grips the bedsheets beside him more firmly now, another hand resting behind his back tugs on his clothing too, as you whimper in desperation.

"k-kuni, kuni- ngh- aah!.." you both cum in the same moment, and wanderer unintentionally pulls you even closer to him, his hands hugging you tighter as he hears you moan out loud into his shoulder, biting lightly. he whimpers as he feels his cum shooting deep inside you, the warm sensation spreading within you.

you mentally debate if you should pull him out of you or stay like this for a while longer, and your sleepy self decides on the latter, as you let yourself relax on top of him.

"was this what you needed?.." wanderer whisper-asks quietly, not wanting to startle your peaceful, sleepy state. "did i guess it right, huh?" he smirks.

you hum in agreement, nodding subtly, too sleepy to speak.

he smiles, making a note to clean you up in the morning as he pulls a blanket over both of you.

[misc-obeyme]

Mer!MC Headcanons - Older Brothers

I said I'd write 'em, so here we are. They were getting stupidly long, so this is just the three older brothers.

The concept is that MC is a merperson from the human world who somehow found their way into the Devildom.

If people like these, then I may do the rest of the brothers.

read the younger brothers here and the side characters here

GN!mer!MC x Lucifer, Mammon, & Leviathan

Warnings: none

Lucifer

He first notices you at Diavolo's private beach. After a lot of pestering, Lucifer finally agreed to take a break there, but insisted on going alone. He's looking out across the sparkling ocean in a place where the artificial sunlight creates a soft glow. And that's when he sees you. First, just a tail, shimmering. And then the top of your head, hair and skin glistening as the ocean water drips from you. He feels your eyes on him, even though you're far out in the waves.

Lucifer stands on the shore, letting the waves trickle around his ankles. He won't go too far. He's waiting for you to come to him. He knows you will. And in the end, you do. Swimming in slow, large circles, each round bringing you closer and closer to where he waits. You're wary of him - you're from the human world and you aren't familiar with demons. But this one looks strong. When you get close enough, he smiles, completely disarming you.

And he will take the time to find out who you are and where you came from. He asks about your life in the human world, how you ended up in the Devildom. When he deems you harmless, he finds himself focusing more on how entrancing you are. The way you bob in the water, the brightness of your scales, the delicate magic that hums beneath your skin.

Lucifer comes back over and over to the private beach. The others are surprised, but they don't question it because he so rarely takes breaks. But Lucifer only wants to see you. He'll ask you if you want to come back with him. He's found a spell that will allow you to have legs. He will accept your decision either way and in the end, he knows you'll always need to return to the sea. But for now, will you take his hand, MC?

Mammon

He heard that there was a treasure chest at the bottom of one of the Devildom's many deep dark lakes. So he goes diving with an underwater breathing spell and nearly has a heart attack when he finds you instead. You hide behind a large rock, just as frightened of him, then peek around it as Mammon recovers himself. You both stare at each other for a long time, neither one feeling brave enough to come closer. But Mammon can't talk to you like this.

He swims to the surface, breaking into the Devildom air. Your head slowly rises from the water a few feet away from him. He asks you who you are. Mammon wants to know how you got here and where you're from. He's treading water as best he can, but he's losing strength. So you swim over and take it upon yourself to escort him to shore. He blushes profusely as you grab hold of his waist and use your powerful fin to propel him out of the deep water.

Mammon is dripping on the shore of the lake, just talking to you. You spend so much time chatting, he completely dries out. He finds a kindred spirit in you - shiny treasure is something you enjoy, too. And you can tell that he's interested in your tail. You get as close to the land as you dare, flopping out the end of your tail beside him. He touches it carefully, the rings on his fingers catching your eye as he moves them across your scales. You shiver at the touch.

When Mammon comes back to the lake, he finds you waiting on the shore, your tail wrapped around a large treasure chest. He falls to his knees in front of you. You lean across the chest and tell him you found what he had been looking for in the lake. He takes your hands. Don't ya know that he already found the treasure in this lake, MC? You're more precious to him than any chest. He still takes the chest, but not before he takes out the shiniest jewel to give to you, along with a promise to return.

Leviathan

It's at Siren Beach where Levi first meets you. He's there to visit Lotan, of course, but before he has a chance to say hello to his old friend, he spots you there in the water. You're immediately interested in him. Something about him makes you want to come closer. He's cautious about you, not sure what a merperson like you would be doing here at this beach.

Despite the pull he has on you, you're skittish about getting too close. But Levi doesn't wait around for you to come to him. He's concerned about you and what you're doing in Lotan's area. He takes the initiative to swim out toward you. His swimming skills impress you. The ocean is calm here, but his arms are strong and steady. He reaches you easily.

You can't help getting playful with him, swimming around him in circles before he finally manages to get you to slow down a little. He gets you to tell him who you are and where you're from. He's a little baffled about a human world merperson getting all the way out here. But he's distracted when Lotan arrives and it's clear right away that you've already befriended the great sea beast.

The three of you play together in the ocean for hours. Levi comes back to visit Lotan, but he finds himself looking forward to seeing you, too. As he gets closer to you, he starts to think you'd be better off back in your own home. He brings it up to you one day. He can find a way to bring you back to the human world. When you shut that idea down and tell him you'd rather stay in the Devildom with him and Lotan, he gets flustered. Y-you don't have to stay just for him, MC! You wrap your tail around him and pull him close so he understands why you have no plans to leave. You enjoy the way his blush deepens.

younger brothers | side characters | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[hoosurdaddy]

Kɪɴᴋᴍᴀs ᴅᴀʏ 1: ꜰᴀᴄᴇ sɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ.

Pᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Finnick Odair x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ.

Tʀɪɢɢᴇʀs: 18+, sᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴄᴇ sɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ.

“I want to fuck you,” Finnick demanded as he looked at you from the couch. You laughed at his sudden confidence before turning back to your knitting. "Please baby. Just let me eat you out, please I need to touch you." He continued to whine until you leaned down and kissed him.

Finnick grabbed your hips, pushing you against the couch, spreading your legs. “You’re so nerdy, fin.” You giggled as you ran your fingers through his long hair.

“I’m going to ruin you.” Finnick growled as he pulled off your pants, you felt your pussy clenching at his words. You figured that Finnick was going to get on his knees but instead he laid down on the couch and flipped you onto his face. Your pussy in front of his face. He hooked his arm your thighs and pulled you down, burring his face into your pussy.

Finnick loved when you sat on his face. He ran his tongue between your slit. It’s been so long since he’s tasted you and he could die happily right now. He groaned against your pussy as his nose brushed against your Clit. He was moaning and groaning as he flatten his tongue at your entrance, lapping at your wetness before harshly sucking your Clit. You looked down. God, Finnick was so pretty between your thighs.

Finnick loved pleasing you. He grunted against your Clit, breaking away for a moment to breathe before diving back in. You shifted a little to let Finnick have proper air but he immediately pulled you back now. His grip loosening on your thighs when he felt you humping his tongue.

“I’m so close.” You moaned, gripping his hair, moving his head to the right position. Finnick tapped your thigh to let you know it was okay. You came undone as you cried out, but Finnick’s tongue didn’t stop. He continued to ride you throw your high. Finnick could cum at the sight of you.

Finnick felt dizzy. Maybe it was because of the lack of air? Or maybe it was because your pussy was just too good; it was hard to tell.

[cassiopeiasdaughter]

⭐️ It’s not a TS I relate to but it’s my favourite TS song. Fearless with Theodore Nott please?

Fearless

Theodore “Teddy” Nott has been your best friend ever since he accidentally bumped into you at the Hogwarts Express back in first year.

He was quiet and smart and he had brought a spare book that he lent you, to pass your time until you reached the castle.

As you both opened your books, you asked him what house he wanted to be sorted in and that small question resulted in the two of you talking for the whole trip, leaving both your books untouched.

You are such good friends that you know him well enough to know, that right now he has abandoned the Ball and is outside-somewhere in the castles grounds sulking by himself. And you the good friend you are; are running after him letting the rain pouring heavily ruin your hair and dress.

You end up finding him with his back against a column and cigarette in his hand. If it weren’t for your current situation you’d be laughing and mocking him for his brooding and angsty behavior.

“This will kill you, you know.”, you say surprising him. Causing him to jump a little, and let the cigarette slip from his fingers

“Thanks to you, it won’t now,” he says as he composes himself and casts a spell to make the now muddy and wet cigarette disappear.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as you approach him

“I could ask you the same thing.” He replies calmly

“I was looking for you.”

“Won’t your date miss you?” he says with a hint of irony coating his words

“If I cared about that, I wouldn’t be here.” , you shoot back

“Mhm” he murmurs and looks forward

You can hear your favorite song playing, back at the hall. And smile to yourself at the feeing it gives you. Theo, sees that and pulls your hand, leading you to the rain.

“What are you doing?” you ask laughing

“I’ll cast a drying charm later, dance with me?”

And you take his hand with a smile, losing yourself to his touch. One hand holds your hand and the others rests gently on your back. You bury yourself in his chest, drowning in his cologne and the feel of him.

You can feel his heart beating loudly as to sway together and his lips that caress your temple. You softy hear him, humming to the music and smile.

“Why did you run away like that ?” , you ask him in a whisper

“Why did you go with him?” he asks back

“Don’t you know?” you whine at his oblivion

He stops moving as he hears your words and tips your face upwards with his hands. His eyes are searching for an answer- a confirmation.

Yes, I feel the same way you feel, I always have, don’t you understand that? Shouldn’t you know by now? You want to scream at him, but instead you smile and wrap your arms around his shoulders anchoring yourself to him. Eventually, standing on your tip toes you kiss him lightly on the lips. Hoping this kiss can convey all the feelings you’ve had for so so long.

“I love you too.” He says before he kisses you again, his hands on your cheeks and yours holding his shoulders, scared that he’ll disappear and you’ll wake up from a dream.

As you both stop he rests is forehead on yours and you both let out a deep laugh. Years of pining and yearning. Wondering if he sees you as something more than a friend. Scared of losing him, of ruining your friendship. Resulting in you keeping everything inside. All that, is resolved now and your feelings are free.

“Is this real.” He asks with a breathy voice

“Yes” you giggle and kiss him again.

You stay like that, dancing in the rain, your bodies impossibly close, remembering this moment forever.

fin 🫶🏼

celebrate my academic hardships & Theodore Nott masterlist

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

sea monster au where Foul Legacy's species exchange jewelry as a form of courtship.

he's been giving you little pearls and shells for months, finding the most colorful gems in the sea just for you- Legacy loves watching your eyes light up as you cradle the gifts in your hands, placing a kiss on his masked forehead. but they're not enough- not in his mind. not enough to show how much he adores you. so for several nights he finds the best bits and bobs, stringing them together until he makes a lovely bracelet of coral and shells and pearls, scaled tail waving in excitement as he examines the intricate trinket.

Legacy is oddly nervous the next morning when you see him again, claws scratching at the rocks as he lets out a quiet chirp of greeting. he hoists himself up so he can sit beside you, tail draped over your legs. with a tentative chirp, the sea beast gently settles the bracelet in your hands, looking from it to you and back again pleadingly. you stare in awe, slipping it onto your wrist and admiring how it shines in the light, and slowly Legacy's tail begins to wave in delight at your acceptance of his courtship. a happy trill rings out as he nuzzles against your cheek, hugging you tightly and getting your shirt damp- but you don't mind. instead you laugh, petting his coppery hair and scritching behind his horns, watching as Legacy's fins shiver in sheer joy.

you'll have to make him a bracelet of his own, out of something sturdy but shiny especially for living in the water.

[ghcstao3]

part 3 of siren/sailor ghoap hehehehe (part 2 🧜‍♂️)

-

Despite his gripes and discomfort, Soap does eventually drift to sleep before his chest begins to feel too tight, his breaths too short.

Then he’s rudely awoken by a large splash, drenching him even more so than he already was. He sits up in a flash, already glaring daggers at the water before he can make out the silhouette of Ghost’s head.

Soap curses under his breath, wiping excess water from his face and slicking his hair back from where it sticks to his forehead.

“I found somewhere,” Ghost announces.

At least Soap could appreciate his bluntness.

“Did you?” Soap grumbles. He’s found his fear of Ghost has diminished significantly, instead replaced with irritation. He figures it’s the cold and wet having finally seeped past his skin and into his bones. “And how do you suppose I’m getting there?”

“I’ll take you,” Ghost says, as if it weren’t obvious. “Come closer.”

Soap’s heartbeat ticks up in pace. He slowly tucks his outstretched legs closer to his body, though he’s still too far for Ghost to reach. Soap shakes his head. “You are going to eat me, aren’t you?”

“No.”

Soap sniffles. “I don’t believe you.”

Ghost huffs. Soap can sense the eye roll, whether or not the siren actually does so.

“Come on,” Ghost coaxes. There’s a slightly singsong, melodic quality, even for such two little words, but it’s enough to give a single tug on Soap’s heart the same way Ghost’s singing had in the rowboat.

“Cheater,” Soap scoffs, yet he still finds himself slowly unfurling his limbs.

Ghost hums to the same effect, even so daring as to swim right up to where the stone meets the water, folding his arms over the edge—all a mirror for the way he lured Soap in the first time.

But this time—this time, though still menacing in the way that it’s all his nature allows, Ghost is… teasing.

So, with a sigh and nothing better to do, nowhere to go, and already waiting for death, Soap relents. He crawls forward toward the water, mindful of the sharp angles of the cave’s formation, his palms surely to be scraped up anyway, if only from the commotion that had led him up until this point.

He creeps forward until he’s about a foot away from the siren. Squinting into the dark, Soap can almost make out those damp, blond curls. He doesn’t much like the glint in Ghost’s dark eyes, however.

“I said come closer,” Ghost insists.

“I am closer,” Soap argues.

Ghost beckons him even still. It isn’t until Soap is reluctantly face-to-face with the siren that Ghost appears satisfied.

Then Ghost is pushing himself out of the water, inching impossibly closer and closer, until—

Until he’s kissing Soap?

Soap gives a startled yelp, unable to pull away before webbed hands have latched onto the sides of his face. The siren persists even when Soap isn’t really kissing back—though Soap doesn’t realize he’s being pulled into the water until he feels a shock of cold on his face.

But again Ghost won’t let go, his lips still firmly pressed to Soap’s. Soap panics, trying to pull back but finding it impossible once he’s been dragged completely into the depths. He thrashes in the water, but Ghost remains entirely undeterred, his hold on Soap ironclad.

Then… then Soap realizes—his chest never constricts, his lungs never fill with water. Despite the rapid pace of his heart beating in his ears, it’s almost like… it’s almost like he can breathe.

His realization must be evident, as that’s when Ghost finally pulls away, that sharp grin appearing on his face. He lets go of Soap’s face and instead seizes his wrist before he’s propelling them through the water with his powerful tail.

It’s much different, being towed along while conscious. When light finally streams back into Soap’s vision, he finds himself entranced by the colourful fish they pass, the seaweed and the reefs, almost entirely forgetting the creature attached to him in his passing amazement.

Almost.

Every so often the scales or fins of Ghost’s tail will brush against Soap, and every so often he’ll be snapped back to his reality—abandoned by civilization, held captive by a sea creature who insists Soap isn’t food, but does so with a mouth full of sharp teeth.

Eventually, though, when Soap finally catches a glimpse of the sun, relief floods him. He gets to see daylight again, feel the warmth on his skin, and that thought alone is enough to calm him if only for a moment.

When they arrive to shallow water, Ghost suddenly stops swimming. Soap looks to him, confused, then glances down and realizes he could touch sand from where they float—it’d be too difficult for Ghost to continue.

The siren’s hold releases and Soap finally breaks the ocean’s surface, drinking in a mouthful of fresh air as if he hadn’t been able to within the water with whatever magic that kiss had held. He climbs to his feet, the water still up to his chest, and begins to wade onward to where Ghost has brought him—a small island, lush with trees but with a beach where Soap could dry in the sun, abandoned and isolated from everything.

While it may be far from any other person, at least here Soap wouldn’t have to worry about suffocating or starving for at least a little while longer as he perhaps devised a plan for his rescue.

He glances back at Ghost as he makes his way to the island, the siren never moving from where he peers out of the water, watching Soap. Every time Soap glances back, he never shifts.

When Soap is finally clambering onto dry sand, however, Ghost is gone.

Soap doesn’t suppose that the distant pang in his heart, his soul is disappointment. Why would it be? Why should it be?

Yet as his skin and hair and clothes slowly dry, Soap finds himself constantly looking back out at the ocean, at that spot, wondering if he’d ever catch another glimpse of the siren who ultimately had, as promised, not eaten him.