#cecaelia x reader

[vunblr]

Tangled (#1)

Pairing: Cecaelia! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Slight Angst. Fluff. Slow Burn. I don't know if there will be eventual teratophilia.

Summary: Between fear and fascination, a solitary creature struggles to protect his hidden world -and himself- after an unexpected encounter with a curious human woman makes him question everything he thought he knew about trust, danger, and boundaries.

Word Count: About 7.1k.

note: The Cecaelia is a mythical creature that's half-man, half-octopus, and that was the winning result of the poll about what kind of creature would be merman!Bucky. So yeah.

The cottage looked even smaller in person. Nestled at the cliff's edge, with wild grass growing tall around it and the sea stretching endlessly beyond, it felt like it had been left there by the wind itself, forgotten when the summer tourists had packed up and gone.

She stepped out of the car, and the sharp tang of salt air rushed into her lungs when she took a deep breath. The doctor’s words echoed in her head, as they had for weeks now. "Sea air will do wanders with you. Get away from the city, and spend time outside. Let your lungs remember how to work without fighting for every breath."

It hadn’t been a hard decision, not really. When she’d called her cousin asking if the cottage was free, he’d been surprised but quick to offer it. “No one rents off-season,” he had said. “But if you don’t mind the quiet, it’s yours for as long as you want. Just keep an eye on the place. Cheap rent if you can manage that.”

She could. And she wanted the quiet.

The cottage itself was weathered, with paint peeling from the shutters, but it held a kind of charm. She smiled to herself, already imagining mornings spent with tea in hand, sitting on the porch, watching the sea.

In the back of her car, her yarn and crochet hooks were packed in baskets, along with pieces she could finish and post to her shop, small comforts for strangers who would never know how much she needed this place as much as they might need her work.

The door creaked as it opened, and she stepped inside, greeted by the scent of wood and sea salt that had seeped into the walls. It wasn’t perfect -there would be work to do to make it feel like home- but for now, it was enough.

She left her bag by the door, moving to open the back window that faced the cliffs. The wind rushed in immediately, lifting the thin curtains and filling the small room with the sounds of the ocean.

Leaning on the windowsill, she breathed in deep again, closing her eyes for a moment.

----

She left the unpacking for later. The sunlight, pale and golden as it dipped lower in the sky, felt too precious to waste. After days of grey city skies, it was strange and wonderful to see light glinting off the water like scattered glass.

Pulling on a scarf against the wind, she made her way down the narrow path that led from the cottage to the shore, boots crunching against damp stones. The beach was more rock than sand, dark stones slick with seawater, and the waves hissing between them in restless motion. She took her time, picking her way carefully over the uneven ground, pausing here and there to admire small tide pools that shimmered like glass bowls filled with fragments of sky.

Further down, the cliffs rose higher, jagged and dark against the softening sky. Tucked into the rock face was a cave, half-hidden in shadow. She felt a pull toward it, something about the way the waves crashed near its mouth, and the water slid back in swirling foam made her want to go closer. But the tide was too high, waves rushing to the edge of the mouth and spilling out in bursts of white spray.

She sighed, a little disappointed, and found a flat rock to sit on, far enough from the water’s reach but close enough to feel the mist on her cheeks. Pulling her knees up, she wrapped her arms around them and watched the horizon where the sky met the sea, silver and darkening.

She didn’t notice the way the water stirred beyond the rocks.

From the shadows of the cave, he watched.

Blue eyes, sharp and narrowed, fixed on the figure that had dared to step onto his shore. A female human, wrapped in thick clothes, clearly not afraid of being so close to the water. His gaze followed her movements, the careful way she sat, her eyes distant as if searching for something in the waves.

The sea shifted around him, dark tentacles stirring the foam as he rose slightly from the depths, blending with the shadows. The skin below his waist was marked in deep stormy colors: blues that bled into blacks, silvers that caught the light when he moved, like flashes of lightning underwater. His long dark hair clung wet to his shoulders, the strands caught in the shifting current.

His left arm was marked in heavy black ink, curling patterns that wound around the muscles like chains and waves, telling stories in lines and symbols only the ocean would ever understand.

He was used to people coming close in the summer, loud and careless, splashing in the water, never looking beyond what they wanted to see. But this one was different. She was quiet. Still.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid closer to the rocks, letting the water conceal most of his form, moving his lower half with smooth, effortless strength beneath the waves. The great, coiled limbs of his true body remained hidden for now, shifting like shadows below.

His gaze darkened as he watched her. What was she doing there? Why now, when the cold months were setting in and no other humans dared to linger?

His jaw clenched as he sank a little deeper into the water, watching her as the sun dipped lower and painted the sky in bruised purples and oranges. He would wait. Watch. And if she meant harm to his waters, to his shore, he would know. But still, he couldn't help the way his eyes lingered when the wind caught her hair, or the way her small smile seemed soft and tired, as if she carried some invisible weight.

She came back.

The next day and the one after.

By the third sunrise, Bucky had already realized, with a sinking weight in his chest, that the human woman wasn’t just passing through. No, she returned, making her way down the narrow path from the cliffs, wrapped in her layers of soft clothes and her hair tousled by the wind. She walked the shore like she belonged there, like it wasn’t his.

It bothered him.

From the shadows of the rocks, half-submerged in the dark water, he watched her settle on the same stone each day, legs folded neatly beneath her as she sat with her back to the wind. Like clockwork, she always carried a bundle under her arm -sometimes a basket, sometimes a cloth bag- and inside were her strange tools.

At first, he'd tense every time she pulled them out. Metal glinting in the light, sharp and delicate. His eyes would narrow, watching the quick, precise movements of her fingers as she worked the thread -or was it wire?- into something he couldn't quite understand.

Was she weaving traps? Humans were clever like that, dressing danger in the shape of something pretty. His teeth would clench as he lingered close enough to see but far enough that the sea still wrapped him in its shield. Some days, he’d hover beneath the surface, letting the swell of the waves rise and fall over him, tentacles coiled and ready, just watching. Other days, when curiosity won out over caution, he'd pull himself closer to the rocks, blending with the dark stone, his body hidden in the foam, only sharp blue eyes peering from the shadowed cracks.

He couldn't understand her.

The tools -those thin, pointed things that glinted in the sun- moved quickly in her hands, pulling and twisting strands of colored thread into shapes. He watched her lips move sometimes, as if she were speaking to herself or singing under her breath, her voice too soft to carry over the waves.

What are you doing, human?

Some days, she worked with blues and greys that matched the ocean. Other days, softer colors: pale pinks, sandy creams, as if she were plucking the colors from the sunset and tying them into her thread.

His mind turned over the possibilities, dark and sharp as broken shells.

Offerings, maybe. Humans used to throw things into the sea, begging the water for favors. Had she come to his shore to offer something? And if so, to whom?

What was it like, to sit under the open sky, making something delicate with hands that didn’t know the weight of chains?

What did a human like her have to craft for?

He knew humans were dangerous. They made weapons and poison. They took and broke and never gave back to the sea. But watching her, with her small, careful motions and calm presence, Bucky couldn’t make her fit into the same mold.

Still, he kept his distance.

And watched.

She was a mystery, and Bucky had always known better than to trust a pretty mystery.

----

The sky was heavy that day, thick with clouds that churned low over the sea like a living thing, pressing the wind harder against the cliffs. The waves crashed louder, salt spray carried far beyond the rocks, and even the birds had gone quiet, hunkering down somewhere safer than the open air.

Still, she came.

Bucky saw her before she even reached the stones, her figure bent slightly against the wind, with a scarf whipped loose around her shoulders as she picked her way carefully across the slick path. He stayed hidden in the cave’s shadows, narrowing his eyes as he watched her approach, bracing himself as another gust sent the water lashing high against the rocks.

Foolish human. She had no business being here in this weather.

And yet, there she was, basket under her arm, as though her stubbornness could make the storm back down.

She didn’t stay long; that, at least, he could appreciate. The wind tugged mercilessly at her hair, whipping strands across her face, and even from his distance, he could see her frown as she tried to focus on her work. The little metal tools caught flashes of dull light, as she wrestled with thread that kept trying to fly away.

More than once, she nearly dropped the whole thing, muttering curses under her breath that the wind carried just out of his hearing.

Should’ve stayed home, Bucky thought darkly, though part of him -a part he didn’t want to examine too closely- felt a flicker of something like amusement at her stubbornness.

Eventually, even she had to admit defeat.

With a sharp breath, she shoved the tangled project and tools back into her basket, fighting to keep everything from slipping out as the wind ripped around her. Bucky watched as she stood, holding the basket close with one hand and pulling her scarf tighter with the other.

She turned to leave, but the basket’s lid wasn’t secure.

He caught the movement first, a small square of soft color, pale blue and cream, clinging to the edge until a sharp gust of wind tore it free.

The little piece of her work tumbled up into the air like a bird struggling against the gale, flipping and twisting wildly. She didn’t notice, too focused on her path back up to the cliffs, already moving away.

Bucky’s sharp gaze tracked the square as it flew, carried higher for a moment before the wind turned and dropped it like a wounded thing onto the rocks.

He slid closer, and the sea hissed against the shore as his dark form rose from the waves, blending with the churning water. His tentacles shifted beneath, curling and uncoiling lazily as he moved through the foam toward where the thing had landed.

For a moment, he didn’t touch it, only looked, tilting his head slightly as he studied the object. It was soft and tiny, patterned carefully in shifting stitches, with the center shaped like a seashell.

A seashell.

His brows drew together, a flicker of confusion sliding through his chest.

Was it… for him? An offering? A message?

His tattooed arm reached out, brushing the yarn with his wet fingers as if it might dissolve under his touch. He picked it up, holding it between his fingers, and turning it over. The colors were soft, like the sea on a calm morning, so unlike the stormy waters around them now.

He stared after her retreating figure, now nearly lost to the rising mist that curled along the cliffs. His fingers closed around the little square, and his chest twisted with something sharp and unfamiliar. Without thinking, he slipped back into the water, keeping the square safe in his palm as he sank below the waves, carrying it into the deep.

----

The cave had been his refuge for years now.

A place carved by time and water, jagged and vast beneath the cliffs, a labyrinth of dark stone and shifting pools. The ocean lived and breathed in its chambers, rushing in with the tides to flood the lower passages, pulling back to leave slick rock and pools deep enough for him to slide through.

Most humans never saw more than the yawning mouth of the cave, and even then, they gave it a wide berth, spooked by the way the waves churned and roared in its depths. But Bucky had made it home.

It wasn’t much. Dark. Cold. Safe.

Except now, it wasn’t just his.

He surfaced silently in one of the upper chambers, where the water only reached his hips before sloping into the damp rock. High above, a narrow shaft split the stone, letting pale daylight pour down like a spotlight. Even on cloudy days, it was enough to see by.

Holding the little square carefully between tattooed fingers, he studied it again as if it might reveal something new, some hidden meaning in its soft, woven loops.

It shouldn’t be here.

Nothing soft ever survived this place.

The sea that pounded the rocks outside was as ruthless as the men who’d once dragged him from it. His world was made of sharp edges and dark water. Things that survived here were hard, broken, and dangerous.

Not like this.

His lip curled slightly, though he wasn’t sure if it was at himself or the thing he couldn’t quite let go of.

He moved to the far side of the chamber where a heavy rock shelf jutted from the wall, slick with salt but high enough to stay dry when the tide rolled in. Above it, close to the light from the chimney, an old, rusted hook still hung from a crack in the rock, a leftover from some shipwrecked fishing gear he'd dragged in long ago.

He didn’t think much before reaching for a coil of fishing line he scavenged from the sea, along with other things lost by sailors who would never know what had become of them.

With careful fingers, he tied the little square to the line, knotting it securely, and hung it from the hook so it swayed gently in the faint breeze that slipped down through the shaft.

It turned slowly, spinning on the line, and its pale threads caught what little light filtered in, soft and fragile in a world of darkness.

Bucky leaned back in the water, resting his arms on the rocks behind him, watching it move. Something about how it danced, as if defying the cold stone and salt-heavy air, set his teeth on edge.

Why did she make things like that?

Was she offering pieces of herself to the sea? To him?

His gaze darkened as he thought of her again, sitting on his rock, unaware of the way she was watched, studied like a puzzle that didn’t fit. His eyes flicked to the square once more, to the soft seashell design at its center.

It didn’t make sense, but he didn’t take it down.

Instead, he stayed there for a long time, watching it turn and twist in the pale shaft of light.

----

The next morning, she sat on the couch, sorting through her project basket with a small frown tugging at her lips. The afghan was coming together beautifully, a tapestry of ocean blues, soft foamy whites, and sandy golds, all made of tiny, careful stitches. But something was off. She counted again, lips moving silently as her finger trailed over each square laid out in neat rows.

Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five…

She paused.

No, it wasn’t right.

She was sure she’d finished all the seashell tiles. It had been the last thing she worked on by the shore before the stormy weather rolled in. But now… she was one short.

Her brow furrowed deeper. Had she miscounted?

She rubbed her forehead, letting out a soft breath. Maybe she’d dropped one and didn’t notice. The wind had been fierce that day, tugging at everything: her hair, her scarf, her work, like impatient fingers.

Glancing out the window, where the sea glinted pale in the afternoon sun, she chewed her lip. She didn’t have enough yarn to do another. So, with a resigned sigh, she grabbed her bag and slipped on her jacket.

Maybe the little shop uptown still had that particular shade of blue left.

----

The bell over the shop door chimed as she stepped inside, bringing with her a breath of sea air. The shop was small, crammed with yarns of every color, stacked high on wooden shelves that smelled faintly of cedar and wool.

Behind the counter, an older woman -probably in her seventies, but with sharp eyes and quick hands- looked up from where she was rolling skeins into neat cakes.

“Well, well,” the woman said with a curious smile. “Don’t get many young folks around this time of year. Let me guess, lost a mitten?”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “No, nothing like that. I just… moved to the cottage down by the cliffs. I need some blue yarn.”

The woman’s brows rose. “The cottage? Arthur’s place?”

She nodded. “He’s my cousin. Said I could stay off-season. I needed… a change of air, for my lungs.”

The woman’s gaze softened a little at that, but there was something else too, a flicker of something sharper in her eyes.

“Been walking the shore, have you?”

She smiled faintly. “Almost every day. It’s good for my health. And it’s… peaceful out there.”

The old woman’s fingers stilled on the yarn, and her gaze grew more serious. “You stay away from that cave, girl.”

The sudden shift in tone made her blink. “Oh? Is it dangerous? Flooding or… rocks falling?” She had wondered, more than once, about exploring inside; its dark mouth always tugged at her attention from afar.

But the old woman just shook her head slowly, pressing her lips on a thin line. “No. It’s not the rocks you should worry about.”

Her stomach gave a small flip, though she wasn’t sure why. “What then?” she asked, her voice lighter than she felt. “Ghost stories?”

The woman didn’t smile.

“Some folks say there’s something in there. Something that don’t take kindly to strangers.”

There was a long pause between them, filled only by the soft creak of the shop’s wooden floor as the wind rattled outside.

She gave a small laugh. “Well… I’ll be careful. No caves. Just sitting by the rocks, I promise.”

The woman watched her a moment longer, then reached to pluck a skein from the shelf, soft blue with the faintest shimmer of white, like sea foam.

“Here. This the color you’re needing?”

Relieved for the change of subject, she smiled. “Perfect, thank you.” Still, as she paid and stepped back out into the gray afternoon, the woman’s words clung to her mind like salt spray on her skin.

Something in there.

Superstitions. Nothing more.

----

She came earlier this time.

The sun was still high, cutting thin shafts of light across the rocky shore. The sea was calm for once, lapping lazily at the stones, though she could already see the tide creeping in, filling the gaps between the rocks like liquid glass.

Her backpack -her new companion for carrying everything- hung from one shoulder as she picked her way down the worn path, scanning the ground with a slight wrinkle of concentration between her brows. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find.

Maybe -if she let herself hope- the missing square would be there, caught between some stones or tangled in a patch of seaweed. It wasn’t likely. The wind had been fierce that day. More than likely, it was long gone, carried off to sea.

She wandered close to the cliffside, scanning the rocks and little pools left behind by the waves. Empty. Just rocks, water, and shells.

Eventually, her path curved nearer to the cave.

She paused when she reached it, its dark mouth yawning wide before her eyes. The tide had already crept in enough to flood the entrance, and the seawater glimmered like oil in the shadows, rising and falling with a deep, constant rhythm.

She stood there for a moment, resting her weight on one leg, with her arms crossed loosely over her chest as she gazed into the darkness.

The woman’s words floated back to her, “Something in there.”

A soft huff of laughter escaped her lips. "Right. Some kind of sea monster," she murmured to herself, glancing at the waves as they lapped at the rocks. Townfolk and their stories. She guessed every place had its own Nessie to keep tourists from wandering too far. Still, her eyes lingered on the shadows inside the cave.

Not that she believed in monsters.

She found a smooth rock nearby, flatter and more comfortable than her usual perch, and sat down slowly. For a while, she didn’t even reach for her yarn.

She just sat there, watching the sea. Noting how the light broke on the water, how the wind stirred small ripples that chased each other toward shore. It was peaceful, quiet.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone.

Maybe it was how the waves broke oddly sometimes, like something moved beneath them. Or how the shadows seemed deeper at the cave’s edge.

Out of the corner of her eye, something shifted, a ripple where there shouldn’t have been one, a shape half-blurred by the surf.

Her head snapped around.

Nothing. Just rocks and waves, sunlight flashing silver on the water. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and rubbed her arms, shaking her head at herself. “Get a grip,” she muttered. “You’re gonna start seeing ghosts next.”

She wasn’t afraid; it felt more like a prickle at the back of her neck, like the feeling of being watched. She shivered despite herself and finally dug in her backpack, pulling out her yarn and hook.

Hands busy and occupied mind, maybe that would help.

And as her fingers worked the stitches, her eyes kept flicking now and then to the cave’s dark mouth, half expecting to see something -or someone- looking back at her.

----

Bucky stilled. He’d been resting half-submerged, lulled by the steady rise and fall of the tide against the rocks, when her footsteps crunched over the shore. The sound pulled him from the quiet calm of the water.

His eyes narrowed when he saw her wandering closer than usual, with a backpack slung over her shoulder, scanning the rocks like she was searching for something.

Closer.

Too close.

He stayed motionless as she approached the mouth of the cave, tilting her head slightly as he observed her, cool and calculating. So, she wasn’t content to sit on the same sun-warmed rock as always. No, now she was pressing into his territory, almost stepping at his doorstep.

Something in him bristled at that.

One thing was for her to perch at a distance, near enough to watch but far enough to ignore if he wanted. But here? Where he lived, where he slept? His jaw clenched, and his arms flexed subtly in the water. His blue gaze followed every move she made. What was she thinking, wandering so close to something she didn’t understand?

He chewed on the inside of his cheek.

She didn’t look dangerous, sitting there on the rock, folding herself into a soft curve against the sharp lines of the shore. But he knew better than to trust first glances. They never looked dangerous until it was too late.

Still, she didn’t carry herself like a hunter.

His gaze slid over her form, watching as she sat and stared out to sea, with her hands resting idle, for once. Something about the way she observed the water made his chest twist with something strange and tight, curiosity, maybe.

And then, her head turned.

He stiffened as her eyes swept toward the cave, sharp and searching.

Instinct surged up fast and cold.

No.

Before her gaze could settle, he shifted, and his skin rippled as the pigments in his body flared and blended, dark blues and stormy grays swirling into a perfect mimicry of the wet stone and shadows around him.

Camouflaged, he watched as her stare paused a second longer -too long- before she finally looked away, sighing softly.

Bucky exhaled, though the movement barely stirred the water around him. He kept his skin blended to the rocks. What was he supposed to do with her?

She didn’t seem dangerous. But danger didn’t always wear a sharp smile and bloodstained hands, sometimes, it came wrapped in soft eyes and gentle fingers. They had taught him long ago that humans, even the fragile-looking ones, could destroy a life without a second thought.

Still, she hadn’t tried to harm anything. Not yet.

His eyes flicked toward her bag as if he could see through it to the soft squares she wove. His fingers twitched faintly in the water.

He didn’t like her so close to the cave, but he wasn’t ready to drive her away either. So, for now, he would watch -hidden and silent- and wait.

Wait to see if she would prove herself a threat.

Or something else.

----

It was nearly sunset the next day when she came back. The wind had picked up again, sharp and salty, tugging at her hair as she made her way down to the rocks -his rocks- like she belonged there.

He should have grown used to her by now.

But today, she wasn’t carrying her usual stuff. No soft blues or pale greens in her arms, no ocean-colored threads to match the shore.

Instead, she carried something bright.

She sat down with a small sigh, tucking her legs beneath her, and pulled out a tangled mess of reds and oranges that caught the dying sunlight and burned in her hands.

His eyes narrowed. It wasn’t like her other work.

The colors were sharp, like warning signals in nature, like the poison coral and venomous anemones lurking under rocks.

He crept a little closer, careful not to disturb the water’s surface, watching as her fingers worked the thread, pulling and twisting, weaving patterns that made no sense to him.

A net?

The thought came unbidden, and he bristled at it. Was she making something to trap fish? Or… something larger, like him?

But even as his suspicion spiraled, he looked again, and his sharp gaze caught the way the fibers slipped through her hands, soft, pliable, delicate.

No.

No one would use something that fine and fragile to catch fish. His eyes lingered on the trailing end of the project, long, thin, and useless for holding anything.

Not a net, then.

But that didn’t ease his mind. If not for catching, then for binding? Some kind of restraint?

The thought set his muscles on edge. His arms tensed, and the tips of his dark tendrils stirred faintly beneath the surface.

And then she started humming.

Low, soft, like a tune half-forgotten, not loud enough to be a song, but enough for his sharp ears to catch.

He froze.

Was it… a spell?

His gaze darkened, trying to focus on the way her lips moved, though she didn’t speak any words. Just the soft melody, drifting on the wind, as her fingers worked and pulled the red and orange threads. Humans were strange creatures, and he knew enough to fear the things they could do with words and symbols.

Maybe she was weaving magic into that thread, binding spells, summoning songs. He had seen it before, felt it before.

Still, she didn’t look like a witch.

His eyes traced her face, calm and focused, with her brows slightly furrowed as she worked. There didn’t seem to be malice there, no sharp glances cast toward the water. But appearances were deceiving.

His gaze dropped again to the burning colors slipping through her fingers, and something in him twisted.

The questions tangled tighter in his chest, and he found himself slightly leaning forward, drawn to the movement of her hands and tools, to the colors, to her voice.

His eyes stayed locked on her until the sun slipped fully behind the waves, and she finally stood to leave, carefully folding the half-finished piece and tucking it away.

As she walked back up the path, she glanced over her shoulder, scanning the shore one last time, and for a breathless moment, Bucky wondered if she could feel him there, watching.

----

The rain had finally stopped.

Three days of relentless downpour had left the shore wild and restless, and the waves were breaking hard against the rocks, spraying foam high into the air. The sky still hung heavy with clouds, but at least the water no longer poured from it.

Bucky had spent those days deep inside the flooded parts of the cave, watching the storm churn from the shadows. Alone.

Not that he minded.

Or so he told himself.

But as the days dragged on, he became restless. Irritable. He kept glancing toward the cave entrance, expecting -hoping- to see her figure appear between the rocks.

But she never came.

And he hated how that bothered him.

So when the skies cleared and, late in the afternoon, she finally made her way down to the shore again, he felt something loosen in his chest, though he wouldn't name it.

From his usual hiding spot, half in the water, half behind a jut of rock, he watched her settle down, pulling her yarn and hook from her bag with the kind of familiar movements that made him… oddly content.

Maybe he'd gotten too used to her presence. To the soft sound of her humming and the rhythm of her hands working threads into strange patterns.

Maybe that’s why he wasn’t as careful today.

Maybe that’s why, when he leaned a little too far forward in the water just to get a better look at what colors she brought this time, the sunlight caught him at a wrong angle.

Whatever the reason, he was sloppy.

Her eyes snapped toward him. And he froze.

She furrowed her brows, tilting her head as she stared directly at him. Not the vague searching glances of before. No, this time she saw him.

His heart hammered in his chest, and his pulse was loud in his ears.

She seemed confused, narrowing her eyes slightly as they traveled over his form, and Bucky realized with a jolt that to her, he probably looked like… well, like a man.

A man swimming in the cold autumn sea.

Without a suit.

Without reason.

Her gaze flicked over the rocks, then back to him, as if wondering where the hell he had come from because there was no easy way down from town, and she'd have seen anyone arriving from the path.

Still, instead of looking frightened, she just blinked at him, hesitated for a breath, and then lifted her hand in a casual wave.

A simple, almost amused gesture.

Hi, weird stranger.

He had faced hunters, poachers, and worse. Humans who would sooner try to catch him than greet him. But here she was, waving at him like he was just another odd townie swimming where he shouldn’t.

For a heartbeat, he didn’t move, staring at her with narrowed eyes.

And then, as if realizing he’d already messed up by letting her see him, he dipped slightly lower into the water, letting only his head remain above the surface, but didn't turn away.

She watched him for a moment longer, waiting maybe for a response, before shrugging to herself and returning to her work, pulling out a soft teal yarn this time.

Still, Bucky didn’t stop watching. His mind twisted over and over on what had just happened.

She had seen him.

Seen him.

And instead of running, instead of panicking, she'd waved.

What kind of human sat on the edge of danger and smiled into it?

He sank a little deeper into the water, his blue eyes never leaving her, as she began to hum again, soft and low.

Something about her was wrong.

----

She tried to focus on her work, crocheting the teal yarn on autopilot, but her eyes kept darting -against her will- to the corner of her vision, where he was.

Still there.

Still watching.

At first, she’d thought he was just some local oddball,  and God knew, every small town had at least a handful of those, but the longer she sat, the more her nervousness grew.

Who just stared at someone like that?

She shot another glance his way, careful not to turn her head fully.

Yup. Still there.

Still looking like he had nothing better to do than burn holes on her with his eyes.

Her fingers slowed. Okay. So maybe the old woman at the shop hadn’t been warning her about some spooky town legend. Maybe she’d been trying to warn her about him. Some town creep who liked to lurk around the cave and watch women from the water.

She frowned, looping the yarn tighter than necessary.

But if that were the case, wouldn’t the clerk have just said so? Something like “oh, by the way, steer clear of the guy who haunts the shore like a creep”?

Instead, she’d talked about danger in vague, almost superstitious terms. Like people did when they talked about ghosts or monsters.

Not flesh-and-blood men.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling crawling up her spine. Her fingers worked faster now, as if the act of crocheting could anchor her, steady her nerves. But her mind wouldn’t stop racing.

He didn’t look like some frail old hermit squatting in a cave.

No, he looked… fit. Broad-shouldered, all sharp angles and lean muscle, with dark hair slicked back by the sea water and something almost wild in the way he watched her. And handsome. Very handsome.

Wasn’t he cold?

It wasn’t summer out here. Even under the pale sun, the wind still bit, carrying the ocean’s chill. And there he was, bare, like it was nothing. She swallowed, slowing her fingers slightly as her thoughts tangled worse than her yarn.

Maybe he’s training? she tried to reason. Some kind of triathlete or swimmer. That would explain…

But her gaze flicked to him again, and this time, she caught the way his eyes followed the motion of her hands. Focused. Intense. Like a predator watching something small and unaware.

The back of her neck prickled.

Yeah, if this was training, it was training for something she didn’t want to be part of.

Still, she forced herself to stay put. She wasn’t going to let some weirdo scare her off from her favorite spot. But if tomorrow he was there, she might have to think about going somewhere else.

Or maybe ask around -casually- if anyone knew who the hell this guy was. Her hook slipped on a stitch, and she cursed under her breath. With a sharp sigh, she set the half-finished square in her lap and stared at the waves, refusing to let herself look at him again.

----

After a while observing her, he noticed she wasn’t as relaxed as moments ago, wasn’t humming under her breath or pausing now and then to watch the waves.

No, she kept glancing toward him. Not directly, but in those small, sharp ways people do when they know they're being watched.

Damn it.

He should’ve known better.

Should’ve realized when she saw him, when she waved at him like some clueless land dweller, that he should’ve backed off, and stayed out of sight for a while.

But no.

Instead, some part of him -the part that had gotten used to her presence, to the strange comfort of hearing her voice carried over the wind- had watched perhaps too much.

And now she was nervous.

He saw it in the way her shoulders tensed every time she shifted. In the way her fingers fumbled slightly, like her mind wasn’t really on what she was doing.

And worse, she was pretending he wasn’t there.

Why?

That worried him as he sank lower in the water, frustration twisting in his chest.

Why pretend? Why act like he wasn’t there when she clearly knew?

Was it some human game? Was she trying to ignore him to bait him into coming closer, or was she just scared and trying not to show it?

He scowled, flexing his claws against the rock. He didn’t want her to be afraid.

Or did he?

Wouldn’t that be better? If she feared him, maybe she’d stop coming here. His gaze drifted to the backpack at her side, the threads spilling out like a tangle of seaweed, as her hands worked almost feverishly.

What was she thinking?

Was she wondering if he was dangerous or if he would attack her?

Good.

She should wonder.

Because he wasn’t safe. Not by a long shot.

Still…

He ducked lower when she shifted, watching from behind a curtain of sea foam, blending his skin into the dark rock, but the damage was done. She knew.

And now that he’d seen that flicker of unease in her eyes, something ugly and cold twisted in his gut.

Why do you care? he snarled at himself. She was just another human. Just another threat.

But no matter how much he repeated it, his eyes stayed locked on her soft and tense form and the way her hands moved faster as if to drown out her thoughts.

Bucky let out a low hiss under his breath, more at himself than anything else.

He should leave.

He should let her be.

But he didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

And when she finally stood to leave, gathering her things and casting one last glance over her shoulder -wary, searching- he sank deeper into the waves, watching her go with a storm churning in his chest.

----

The first thing she did when she came home was head straight for the shower. The warm water rolled down her back, washing away the salt clinging to her skin and the tension from the strange encounter by the shore. She stayed under the spray longer than necessary, trying to shake the image of that man watching her with those sharp, unreadable eyes.

Once she was dry and wrapped in her softest clothes, she settled into the small nook by the window, with her laptop perched on her knees, and opened her shop’s page. There were a few new notifications: a sold pattern, a message from a customer asking about shipping times, and an inquiry about custom work.

She starting to reply to the messages when her phone buzzed suddenly, making her jump.

Arthur.

She huffed out a breath and picked up.

“Hey,” she greeted, leaning back against the cushions.

“Hey, you!” her cousin’s familiar voice filled the line. “Just wanted to check in. How’s the place? Are you settling alright?”

She smiled a little. “Yeah, it’s perfect, Arthur. Exactly what I needed the air’s doing wonders already.”

“That’s good to hear.” He paused, and she could almost picture him leaning on something, probably a counter or desk at his job. “You’re not getting too lonely, right? I know it’s kinda dead out of season.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, glancing out the window at the gray sky, a reminder of the past days of rain. “Besides, I needed the quiet.”

There was a pause. She bit her lip, debating with herself, before blurting out, “Hey, listen… you wouldn’t happen to know if anyone in town trains for water sports, do you?”

Arthur blinked; she could hear it in the silence that followed her words. “What?”

She shifted, tucking one leg under herself. “I mean, like… open water swimming, or diving, or whatever. I saw someone today. Down by the rocks near the cave.”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“You sure? Maybe it was just a seal or something? You said the weather was rough.”

She sighed with irritation. “Arthur, I believe I still know how to differentiate between a grown-ass man and a fucking seal, thank you very much.”

“Alright, alright,” he said quickly, but she could hear the edge of worry in his voice now. “It’s just… no one goes swimming there this time of year, or at any season, really. Is not exactly a place for casual swimmers.”

“Well, this guy didn’t seem to care,” she muttered.

Arthur was quiet again. Then, more serious, he added, “Look, just… don’t go back to that area, okay? Stick closer to the cottage. There’s plenty of shore to walk on the other side, yeah?”

She hesitated, flicking her gaze toward her backpack near the door, still full from today.

“Yeah,” she finally said, though the word tasted like a lie. “Probably won’t go back.”

Arthur sighed, clearly relieved. “Good. You know how towns are. You don’t wanna get mixed up with some weirdo. Just… be careful.”

“I will,” she promised, softer this time.

But as soon as the call ended and she set her phone down, she leaned back and stared out the window again.

Probably won’t go back, she had said.

Yeah, right.

She hated walking near the parts of the beach where people gathered. The ones who stayed all year round, the teens with their loud music and bonfires.

She liked her quiet spot.

And if that strange man -or whatever he was- showed up again…

Well.

She’d figure it out.

Maybe.

Probably.

She reached for her yarn backpack with a sigh, pulling out another project to keep her hands busy. But her mind stayed restless, wandering back to the man with sharp blue eyes and the way the sea seemed to ripple around him.

Taglist: @civilbucky

Next chapter

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[kiame-sama]

Similar question to the one with Drider!Rook on kissing but with the other Monster Boys

How would they handle me giving them a kiss on the cheek (Or even their mouth) only to take something from them in victory?

But it’s mainly to prove a point that I don’t need physical strength to win, but my cunning and intelligence (Like I take their Dorm Staff or whatever’s in their hand in triumph because I proved my point)

Honestly, Malleus, Vil, Leona and Azul would be the most impressed but would probably scold me if I did that with others (But their eyes are dilated)

Warnings; Several different Yanderes, yandere behavior, suggestive themes, kissing, thievery, if you kiss any of the monster-men you need to be ready to handle the consequences, mainly Dormleaders (Minus Kalim, because all you have to do is point somewhere and you can easily steal from him. You don't even have to steal, he would willingly give you anything you wanted the moment you showed interest. You'd have a harder time stealing candy from a baby), less thievery and more escaping in Vil's ficlet, use of gamer-tags in place of names for Idia's ficlet,

~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Riddle!"

The Unicorn glanced over his shoulder when he heard your happy greeting, smiling in response to seeing you walking over to him with a slight bounce in your step. Though he would never admit it, the way his heart seized whenever he saw you was both a painful yet wonderful experience. How he longed for you to return his affections and take your rightful place as his King of Hearts.

"Good morning, (Y/N). Have you been well?"

"Of course, but there was something I wanted to talk with you about."

"Oh? What would that be?"

"Come over here, so we can talk without shouting."

The red-maned Unicorn was bemused, yet complied with your request all the same. He would always do as you asked of him, even if it meant moving the very ocean by hand. You smiled in a way that was almost mischievous and Riddle vaguely wondered what it was you were playing at. When he approached, you looked up at him with a content smile that he returned in kind.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I had some questions for you about Unicorns, actually. Unicorns are a myth where I'm from, so I wanted to see if you could clear up some of the misconceptions I might have surrounding Unicorns."

"I would be happy to teach you about Unicorns, (Y/N)! You can have the utmost faith in me to provide accurate information to your questions. What did you want to know?"

"Are you able to lay down without being injured? The closest we had to Unicorns was regular horses, and they rarely would lie down unless extremely comfortable, young, or ill."

"Of course I can! Here, allow me to demonstrate for you."

He moved his weight back to his haunches, allowing them to meet the ground as he curled one leg after the other beneath him. Once his equine half was settled on the ground, he was about to roll to one side to fully lay down when your soft hand cupped his cheek. Riddle was confused as to your interruption but his confusion quickly turned to shock when your lips locked with his.

An almost whinnying squeal left him, but he was eager to return to affection in kind. Even as he felt the crown of his dorm-uniform being lifted from his head, he pursued the kiss eagerly and chased your lips as you tried to pull back. You were only able to escape the Unicorn's desperate kisses by stepping back, as he was unable to get up as easily as he was able to lie down.

There was a clear red decorating the cheeks of the lovely Unicorn even as you grinned triumphantly and placed the golden crown atop your own head. Little did you realize how much this would actually impact the Unicorn you tricked. A certain darkness seemed to take over the bright blue eyes of the monster man as he gained an almost drunken smile.

"Prefect..." he breathed, "absolutely perfect. My wonderful King of Hearts... of course I'll marry you!"

"Wait, what-?"

The Unicorn stood now, almost invigorated as he easily caught your shoulders in his hands, pulling you back into another deep kiss. When he finally broke it, he was affectionately rubbing the side of his horn against your head with soft nickering noises.

"Didn't you know? Kissing and exchanging an article of clothing is akin to a proposal for Unicorns like me. You'll make a wonderful King, (Y/n). My marvelous King of Hearts."

~•§•~

The Nemean Lion was laying in the vast gardens of the greenhouse, resting beneath the large leaves of a fern commonly found in his homelands of Sunset Savana. He was somewhere between sleep and awareness when a certain scent on the air caught his interest. Without bothering to open his eyes, his ears angled around before pinpointing the location where the scent originated. Leona almost smiled.

It was clear to him that you were trying to be quiet and sneak up on the Lion that continued to lazily lounge as you drew close. The only true indication that he was awake and not sleeping was the almost imperceptible flick of his tail. He was almost eager for what you intended to do after your approach as he continued to flick his tail excitedly.

The moment you were within reach, the Lion proceeded to grab you and pull you into his arms. You had been under the impression that he was asleep, so when he grabbed you, you couldn't help but cry out in surprise and fear. Of course, Leona couldn't help but laugh at your response as he rolled to his side, laying next to you and propping himself up on one arm.

"You'll have to try harder than that if you want to sneak up on me, Mousey."

"I wasn't trying to sneak up on you."

"No? Then why were you trying to be as quiet as possible?"

"Because, I was going to do something else."

"Like?"

Your sudden kiss to his forehead made a loud purr erupt from the chest of the Lion. It was almost too easy to get Leona to let his guard down as your fingers began carding through his mane, scratching near his golden ears. That also gave you the opening you were looking for as you easily slid the dorm emblem off of the arm of the Lion.

However, when you tried to pull away to abscond with your winnings, the weight of Lion was too much to be able to wiggle away from him and from under his grasp.

"Nice try, Mousey. Now, you're going to lay there and be a good little pillow as payment for interrupting my nap."

"But you weren't even sleeping-!"

He was quick to place himself on top of your soft figure, grabbing both of your hands- making you drop the emblem- and putting them back in his hair. There was little else you could do but pet the Lion who began to doze while snuggling your much more fragile form. If you wish to play with Lions, you must be ready to face the consequences of your actions.

"Ne, Azul! The Human is here and says they want ta talk to ya!"

~•§•~

The Cecaelia glanced up from the contract he was working on as Floyd lazily called into the office Azul often occupied. Though he often didn't allow visitors on any schedule but his own, he would make an exception for the beautiful Human he adored.

"Send them in."

"Kay~!"

At least Floyd seemed to be in an affable mood for once, smiling and lazily walking off with the door left somewhat ajar. Azul would scold the Eel later for the blatant forgetful behavior, as it was rather important to close the door to Azul's office due to the many contracts stored within the room. Still, it was something he could bring up later.

Floyd returned to open the door fully, letting the Human into the room with a happy grin in their direction. He seemed to want to linger but instead closed the door and went back to whatever it was he did when he was not tormenting others. Perhaps he was just moving on to torment someone else or even his twin bother.

"(Y/n), welcome to my humble office. What can I help you with today?"

"Well, I was told that you were the one to go to if I ever needed anything others were unable to retrieve."

"You're... you're here for a deal? I would happily make any deal with you, dear (Y/n)! Name your desires and I will deliver as promised!"

He was thrilled to know you were seeking his assistance. He was the best bet most had, after all. Most would have to pay a rather steep price to be able to afford the aid of the Cecaelia on any given day, but he had already resolved to aid you for a much more generous and kind-hearted price than his usual rate.

What he wasn't expecting was for you to sit down on the edge of his desk with an almost coy grin, gazing affectionately into the eyes of the Octopus who now seemed nervous under your scrutiny. He would never admit it- excepting to Floyd and Jade who had already become wise to his affections- but Azul was madly in love with the soft Human of Night Raven College. The Octopus had been in love with the idea of Humans ever since he was a larvae, hardly hatched and struggling in the currents of the ocean.

The many depraved things he had written in his adoration of Humans would hopefully remain unviewed by the Human that now sat perched atop his desk. Of course, it did nothing for the suddenly dry mouth Azul now experienced as he tried to keep himself as composed as possible. Were he in his aquatic form, no doubt his tentacles would be all over the soft skin of the Human, tasting and kissing the flesh that seemed so ample and on display for his gaze.

"Wh-what- ahem- what was it you needed from me, (Y/n)-?"

A sudden warm and soft kiss to the small heart shape beneath Azul's right eye had the Octopus tensing up. He was completely flabbergasted and unable to say anything in response to the affectionate action, even as his hat was lifted from his head and placed atop the head of the grinning Human. The octopus was only able to blink one eye at a time from how scattered his brain had become as the Human hopped off of his desk and pranced to the door, hat still securely in place.

"That's all I needed. Thanks, Azul!"

~•§•~

"Would you stop moving, (Y/n)? Honestly, you are acting as if you have never modeled for us before."

You frowned somewhat at the gentle scolding of the handsome Harpy that was trying to finish stitching the hemming of the shirt you were wearing. Naturally, the Harpy would not be content with just a few outfits for your ensemble and called you back to tailor more clothing for you. Divus wasn't present at this fitting, but Rook was happily watching the Harpy circle you as he hand-sewed the clothes.

"Well, sure, but I wasn't thinking I was going to have to stand for so long. It's not exactly comfortable."

"Beauty is pain, my featherless darling. Pin feathers are annoying and sometime even painful, but they give way to the most beautiful feathers imaginable if left to grow. Patience is needed to truly appreciate the beauty of something."

"If you say so."

Vil smiled slightly at this, glad that you were somewhat compliant to his gentle attempts at giving you direction. He would certainly be far less patient and gentle were you anyone other than his beloved Human. He doubted he would even be so patient with Rook. To be fair, though, Rook hardly complained about much, even if the Drider wasn't particularly comfortable or at ease.

"What do you think of this top now it is cinched properly, Rook?"

"Travail merveilleux, roi du Poison. I was unsure about the draping of the garment, but as always you have a keen eye for such things. Mon Trickster does look divine."

You vaguely wondered, as the Harpy wrapped up his stitching, if you would be able to escape from the fashion inclined duo, and what it would take to achieve such a feat. It was while you were contemplating your daring stunt that an opportunity presented itself. Vil was holding up a new top that had yet to be fitted and was trying to see what color would look best on you when you caught the Harpy's hand and attention. He was clearly suspicious of your actions as he raised a single brow in question.

"You know, Vil, I think pink would look good on you."

"Pink? It depends on the shade of pink, but it would mostly clash with my feathers-"

A sudden gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth silenced the Harpy, a bright pink dusting across the Harpy's fair skin and highlighting the bright coloration around his eyes. Those violet orbs were wide with surprise and even Rook was taken aback at the bold action, unable to find words as you hopped down from the raised platform you had been on.

"Seems I'm right! Pink looks great on you. Thanks for the top, Vil!"

You were quick to abscond from the room as the Harpy held his cheek, still blushing a bright pink. Rook was enthused that you gifted the beautiful Vil with such a treasured sign of affection, trailing a finger down the ridge of his boon-companion's wings as he walked around the stunned Harpy.

"Rook, how do you think (Y/n) would look dressed in a wedding gown made from your silk and my feathers?"

"Absolutely divine, like you, Roi du poison."

~•§•~

"Why can't we just virtual visit class, HellKitty?"

"Because, Idia, you need to interact with the other students at some point. Push your comfort zone and be a student, for once."

Idia frowned as he hid behind his tablet, trying to avoid all of the curious looks he got from others in the halls. He was trailing behind you- more than a little unwilling on his part- to what was supposed to be his next class. If he had the choice, the both of you would be back in your dorm and just watching class through one of the cameras as you played videogames together.

Honestly, he was more than a little amused that you had adapted to the gamer-tag he gave you like your own name. Of course, it was no mistake that he chose the gamer-tag HellKitty for you. It was both a play on your ever faithful companion Grim the Hellcat, and the fact that Hellcats were ideal companions for Shinigami. As a Shinigami, why wouldn't he want you to be his Hellcat? Sure, you weren't actually a Hellcat, but you were raising one and that was good enough for him.

"-Idia? Idia!"

"What?"

"Were you even listening to me?"

"... would you believe me if I said yes?"

You sighed and stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning to face the tall student head-on. Naturally, the moment you stopped, Idia was quick to crouch and curl in on himself, wanting to seem as small as possible despite his already gargantuan stature. Only his own ancestor and the Kelpie Trey were taller than him, though not by much. This gave you the ideal opportunity to put your plan in motion.

While Idia was distractedly staring at his tablet, you reached up and cupped his cheek. The physical contact had the Shinigami looking at you with wide and confused eyes, his hair beginning to burn almost white in anxiety. Out of all the things Idia was expecting when you placed your hand upon his cheek, he was immediately error-screened when you pressed a warm kiss against his blue lips.

Could this possibly be happening? To someone like him? Was it even true, or was it a trick? If it was a trick, he never wanted to know because all he could think was how wonderful your lips felt against his somewhat chapped lips.

As you pulled away, Idia was finally able to get somewhat of a grasp on his own frantic mind only to realize he no longer has his tablet in hand. A quick glance around told him that you had his tablet held securely in your hands, grinning at him playfully.

"Alright, UnderworldBlues, if you can get through class without freaking out, I'll give you the tablet back, and maybe even another kiss if you behave. Think you can do that?"

"..."

"Idia?"

"..."

"Did you seriously just faint-?"

~~

You sat on the arm of the thorn throne of Diasomnia, the common room occupied only by yourself, Lilia, and Malleus. Silver and Sebek had classes, so they were not present despite the unusual temper Malleus had as of late. Lilia suggested the two of you should spend some of your down time with Malleus to try and lift his dour emotions from where they seemed to be stuck for the past few days. As Lilia was a trusted friend of yours and Malleus was a strong ally, you figured there was no harm in spending time with the two Fae monsters.

Malleus had calmed considerably with you and Lilia by his side, holding his dark torch-like staff in his gloved claws. He now almost seemed to be dozing somewhat, even as you glanced at the staff resting against his leg. Somewhere, you wondered how easy it would be to distract the Dragon and escape with the clearly important item, if only to break up the monotony of the moment.

Idle hands were the devil's playthings and you were certainly more than a little bored perched next to the Dragon.

"Did you need something, my (Y/n)?"

"Hm?"

"You keep glancing in my direction as if you need to say something or would like some kind of assistance from me."

"Not really. I was just wondering why you have that staff? I thought you didn't have a magestone weapon since you're a Dragon?"

"It is true, I have very little use for a magestone myself, so you have likely never seen it before. This staff is my magestone, you are correct. You are also correct in assuming I have little use for weapons. My fire and my claws are my weapons, most times."

"So, it wouldn't be a big deal if someone took it away, like it was for Leona?"

"Of course not. Strong and versed in magic as Kingscholar may be, he still does not have the same adeptness in-"

The green eyes of the Dragon widened in surprise as you leaned over, catching his lips in a tender kiss that left him breathless. Despite all of his power and his abilities, he was rendered mute and dumb from the sudden show of affection. He didn't resist the pull of his staff from his hand even as you pulled back to grin triumphantly. In fact, he didn't seem to have much of a reaction other than a vaguely humored grin.

Though it was quite a small expression on the outside, Lilia could see how Malleus prepared to pounce from the tension in the Dragon's shoulders, wings, and tail. You were far too interested in the staff that now sat in your hands- examining the green gemstone affixed in the top- to realize that the Dragon was not about to let such a small show of affection satisfy his sudden cravings. A sudden tug at the front of your shirt had you locking lips with the Dragon yet again, being pulled into the lap of the beast who seemed all too eager to take what had been offered.

"T-Tsuno-!"

"Hush now, my dear mate. You should know better than to tease a Dragon. Didn't you know that even one little kiss is considered enough invitation to mate?"

"But I-"

"You," he interrupted, "will not be going anywhere for the next few days. I intend to christen this- our first day as official mates- with many sleepless nights spent entangled in the embrace of passion. Prepare yourself, my soft little Human mate, because you may regret teasing me so callously."

[monstersholygrail]

Octopus Hybrid Bff Pt 2

Preview— Patreon Exclusive

“Hey bro, you good?” The Jellyfish Hybrid asked, sounding just as out of it as he did. Though definitely not for the same reason.

Octopus Hybrid bff panted heavily, groaning again as another wave fell down over him.

“N-no, man, I’m not. Loaned the girl I like my cock a-and she’s using it right now. Fffffuck—“

Your bff wasn’t expecting his friend to understand but he needed to tell somebody. At the least so when he rushed out of this damn gym in two seconds someone will be able to explain. Because it definitely won’t be him, he’ll be long gone. Heading right toward your dorm.

“You can loan out your dick? Ah, dude, that’s so unfair,” the Jellyfish whined, an adorable pout on his face.

So that’s what he chose to focus on. Very interesting. Well, fuck this. Your bff has somewhere to be. And he made that clear when he ignored the calls of his friend and fellow players as he forced his legs to work and bolted straight for your door.

Octopus Hybrid bff couldn’t count the amount of times he fell and tripped on his way over to your place. Each new wave of euphoria shot through his body and down the tentacle arms still attached to his body. He’s downright slobbering and panting by the time he finally reached you.

His knock on your door was weak but the pounding in his ears was strong as hell. But it’s all he can manage right now. He needed you so damn bad.

When you open your door you look about as rough as he feels. Your chubby cheeks were all flushed so prettily, there’s a light sheen of sweet running along every inch of your exposed curves, and you were a little out of breath.

“Oh, hi! I was just thinking about you!” You say cheerfully in greeting.

Your bff moans raggedly, hips bucking toward you, silently begging you to take him out of his misery. But you don’t even seem to notice how much of a wreck he is and all because of you.

This is a Patreon exclusive fic so you'll only be able to read it there! Check it out if you're interested in reading the entire fic and many more. I have a ton of other exclusive and early access fics that you can read there too!!

Get 40% off of any Patreon tier by using the code: Merjune

[squidwen]

🐙After Hours with Azul

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Synopsis: You spend a lot of time at the Mostro Lounge, and Azul’s starting to wonder why. You’re not some creepy stalker girlfriend, are you? You two might be “official,” but you’re at the Lounge all the time!

However, Azul reckons there’s a reason behind it that’s deeper. More serious. After taking you to his room, the pair of you snuggle up, arms, legs, and tentacles, and Azul’s hearts simply can’t take the real reason behind your frequent visits.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You preferred the Mostro Lounge after-hours. It seemed more like an actual Lounge, with nothing but the cool lights and the final tunes of the piano player on the stage. No one bothered you either. None of the waiters told you to leave. No one even offered to clear your drink and plate away. The staff cleaned their tables, hung up their aprons, and that was that.

Except for Azul.

He got up from the piano and crossed the Lounge over to your booth. Your breath hitched at his cool hand on your shoulder. You always preferred him without gloves. His hands were beautiful; long, slender fingers with a callous on his right middle one from years and years of endless writing.

‘Another evening claimed by my establishment,’ mused Azul.

At last, you moved. His words thawed you enough to stand.

Azul welcomed you into his arms. His other hand sparked against your ribcage as he rubbed circles into your back. Somehow his chilly touch melted you. You became almost gelatinous in his embrace, as if you were the octopus rather than the warm, sweet little human.

‘You’re coming here more often, angelfish,’ Azul said.

‘Naturally. The foods good and the music’s even better.’

‘I’m sure the music is not better.’

You pulled away.

Azul held onto you. ‘Sorry-’

‘You’re still doing it.’

‘It’s a bad habit.’

‘You need to stop thinking you’re not good enough.’

Your kiss on the shell of his ear silenced any protests. Azul shivered with bliss.

Everyone else had already left; there was no point in keeping up airs. Who would you be trying to impress? Azul was stronger than he looked. Although he masqueraded as a human, he still retained most of his cecaelian strength, and he lifted you out of the booth. You felt as though you were floating. You were as weightless as the exotic fish in the giant Lounge fish tank.

Azul tucked you into his chest, one arm under your legs and another under your back. You smelled his cologne; lavender and something that reminded you of the sea. The tips of his bangs tickled your forehead. Together, you slipped out of the Lounge and through the halls of Octavinelle, hiding around corners for the coast to be clear before ploughing on towards Azul’s bedroom.

A snap of the fingers and the door swung open.

A lilac bed, freshly made, beckoned you forward. Azul laid you gently down. The duvet and mattress moulded to your figure, gasping and depressing as you wriggled your shoes off. ‘I can’t believe you had the energy for that!’ you laughed. ‘After playing all night.’

Azul laid down beside you. His hands, warmed by your back and thighs, searched for yours and brought them to his lips. ‘It’s the nature of octopuses to be dextrous, my dear. Three hours of piano playing was nothing but a warmup.’

‘How modest.’

Azul reddened.

You kissed his nose. ‘Tell me more. If you can brag to anyone it would be me. Not that I need to be told about how amazing you are. You just carried me up to the top of Octavinelle as if it was nothing. I bet Jack couldn’t even do that.’

Azul, however, did not bring up anything. It still didn’t feel right to. Not with you. Not yet. He was still so new to this. He had never loved anyone before, and the pair of you had only made your relationship official a few weeks ago. Azul was trying to strike a balance between impressing you, and boasting. He wanted to seem cool, not conceited. You already accepted him for what he looked like… for some reason, but surely there was only so much you could take. You could tolerate ugliness, but vanity?

‘A good businessman never puts all his cards on the table,’ said Azul.

You rolled your eyes. ‘Business talk? Here?’

Shoot, Azul thought. Play it cool. ‘You are in the bedroom of the dorm leader of Octavinelle and the manager of the Mostro Lounge.’

‘I thought I was in my boyfriend’s bedroom.’ You started to pull away again. Azul gripped you tightly. His strong fingers were like suction cups. ‘Come on, Azul,’ you sighed. ‘If you’re a businessman, does that make me a customer? Or some associate? I know this is new to you. It’s new to me too. But just… let yourself be… well, mine. Even if it can only be in this room. I need that.’

You shifted closer to him and snaked your arm under his head. His ear rested in the crook of your elbow, letting your fingers fiddle with his hair. The fedora fell away. His locks were stringy from hours under a hat, but you didn’t mind. It was like his head was a giant snowdrop; the petals stuck together as it tried to bloom after a long winter.

Azul drew closer. The bed creaked.

‘My angelfish,’ he breathed.

You hummed.

‘Why do you stay at the Lounge for so long?’

Your stroking stopped.

Azul tensed. ‘If you don’t want to say then-’

‘No, no. It’s fine. It must seem creepy, like I’m some crazy stalker girlfriend who watches your every move now that we’re together. But it’s not. Seven, it’s not. I just… it’s just a soothing place. Some people like the library. Others like the park. But the Mostro Lounge is perfect for me. I’ve been going there all year just to unwind. You might not have noticed. You’re always so busy.’

‘No other reason?’

It was your turn to tense.

Azul detected it immediately.

Sitting up, his cerulean eyes pierced into you like icicles. He was the businessman again. All the tenderness had been leached out of him. Something was wrong. He knew it. Something he was determined to get to the bottom of. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you being at the Lounge. He loved it. Your presence always made him play better, and he was happy to smuggle you on-the-house desserts whenever he could. But you had been showing up too often, as if you were hiding, or escaping, something.

‘Let’s not have secrets from each other,’ he said.

‘Secrets?’

‘Please, angelfish.’ Azul blinked and his eyes became gentle again. The eyes of a lover; lidded and pleading. To prove that he was being open – and to give you permission to do the same – he lay down beside you again and transformed back into a cecaelia. His skin speckled with lilac until it was completely purple; his legs unravelling into eight black and purple tentacles.

Azul couldn’t meet your eyes as he transformed. It embarrassed him. He felt so grotesque. So hideous. But then, you came to him again, and wrapped your arms around his torso. The feeling faded. Azul took you into his arms.

The tentacles wound around your legs like ribbons around maypoles. Cool and slick; the suction cups kissing your exposed skin, making it prickle with gooseflesh. You stayed still to invite them higher. Azul delighted in the feel of you. You were more detailed when he held you this way. He sensed every inch of you. You were beautiful, and more tentacles came up to bind you.

Around your waist. Around your hips. Around your stomach. With ease, they pulled you in close to Azul. The cecaelia buried your face in his chest. You could hear his three heartbeats. They were fast. You couldn’t help but smile into Azul’s shirt.

‘Are you comfortable, my darling?’ Azul asked.

You nodded, too relaxed for words. Azul’s touch was velvety soft. All your dark bindings were gentle and plush, like a caterpillar wrapped in a chrysalis.

A final tentacle cupped the back of your head. You shivered as the suction cups kissed your scalp. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, but it brought you out of your comfort just enough to feel like talking again. ‘What about you?’

‘I’m at my best when you’re with me,’ Azul said.

You melted a little more. ‘Same here. And I confess, that’s the reason why.’

‘Why what?’

‘I’m sorry. I know I’ve come on too strong and I’ve spooked you.’

‘No, not at all.’

‘I just…I… you know you’re my best friend.’

Azul’s heartbeats got even faster. ‘A-And you’re mine,’ he breathed. ‘The Leech twins… they’re not the same as you.’

‘The others aren’t the same as you either. Don’t get me wrong, Ace and Deuce are great, but they’re like twins, and Jack and Epel are dedicated to sports, and Sebek’s obsessed with Malleus. I sort of feel like I just touch-base with them, but I spend time with you. And even if it’s not “with” you, just to see you, hear you play, admire who my partner is, even just sit in your Lounge, is enough.’ You mustered the strength to crane your head back and kiss his jaw. ‘I’m millions of miles from home, but I somehow feel there when I’m with you.’

Azul had never heard anything like it. You were so sweet. So kind. No one ever complimented him without wanting his attention, or recognition; without wanting something in return. Octavinelle was full of sychophants, none bigger than the Leech twins, but you… you were as pure as driven snow. You loved every inch of him, inside and out; something Azul had thought was impossible for him to find. To deserve.

His tentacles bundled you up even more, pressing you in close until it was almost uncomfortable. His suction cups kissed you. Thousands of kisses. Small pecks, until the tentacle cupping the back of your head lifted you to Azul’s lips.

Velvet. Smooth. Soft.

When you broke away, you were both breathless, and exhaustion descended upon you. The night had been long; the conversation hard. Azul loosened his grip on you but kept his tentacles in place. He could think of nothing sweeter than to fall asleep to the feeling of you, and you didn’t mind. You had never been so comfortable; so warm and welcome.

With a final kiss, you snuggled into your cecaelia and drifted off to sleep, lulled by the rhythmic thump of Azul’s heartbeats.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Author note: Well hey! It’s been a while!

I hope you enjoyed the fic! I had to write an Azul one after being away for so long! He’s by far my fav character, and it was his birthday recently so I think we’re all in Azul-mode atm.

If you liked it, please like, comment, and share.

- Squidwen

[aventurineswife]

A Refuge Beneath the Waves

Summary: Sunday seeks solace after a stressful day of diplomatic negotiations. You, a cecaelia with a penchant for playfulness and wisdom, guide him to your secret undersea sanctuary. Amid bioluminescent waters and coral cove serenity, you remind him of the beauty in stillness and the importance of connection, fostering a moment of quiet intimacy between two kindred souls.

Tags: @spinnyboination, Merman!Sunday x Cecaelia!Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Gentle Intimacy, Slow Burn.

The ocean was a symphony, humming its ancient melodies as bioluminescent trails wove through the undersea world. The water shimmered with life, flickering gold and silver as creatures danced through coral and kelp.

Sunday swam with fluid grace, his tail glinting faintly in the dim light of the abyss. His halo, glowing faintly behind his head, illuminated his features in ethereal hues as it pulsed in rhythm with his thoughts. The weight of the day lingered in his mind—a diplomatic encounter gone awry with a neighboring pod, his efforts to broker peace once again met with mistrust. He sighed, pausing mid-swim, his wings twitching faintly in frustration.

"Trouble in paradise, little dove?"

Your voice, warm and tinged with mischief, echoed through the currents. Sunday turned, his eyes meeting yours. You drifted closer, your cecaelian lower half—moving effortlessly through the water. Your eight tentacles, each tipped with bioluminescent patterns, shifted lazily as you watched him with a crooked smile.

"Nothing unusual," Sunday replied softly, his wings fluttering slightly behind his ears. "Merely the usual dance of ideals and realities clashing."

"Ah, the plight of a dreamer," you teased, circling him playfully. "You're far too good for them, you know. Not everyone appreciates the grandeur of harmony."

Sunday chuckled, the sound soft and lilting. "And yet, I cannot abandon the dream. It's... complicated."

"Complicated is just another word for interesting," you countered, stopping in front of him. "Why don’t you let me distract you for a while? You look like you could use a break."

"I—" Sunday hesitated, but your warm gaze melted away his resistance. "Perhaps you're right."

You beamed and reached out, gently taking his hand in yours. Your fingers were webbed, the faintly translucent membrane between them glimmering faintly. Sunday’s touch was cool and calming, and you felt the faint hum of his energy through your skin.

“Follow me,” you said, tugging him along.

The two of you swam together, weaving through the towering kelp forests until you reached a secluded cove. Here, the ocean floor was a mosaic of colorful anemones and gently swaying sea fans, their hues amplified by the glow of the moonlight filtering through the water’s surface above. You guided Sunday to a smooth rock outcropping, settling there as your tentacles curled beneath you in a comfortable nest.

Sunday joined you, folding his tail beneath him. "This is lovely," he murmured, gazing around.

“Isn’t it?” you said, leaning back on your arms. “This is my little sanctuary. A place to just... exist. No politics, no expectations.”

Sunday sighed, his wings relaxing as he mirrored your posture. “I envy that simplicity sometimes.”

You glanced at him, the golden glow of his eyes softer now, contemplative. “You should visit more often,” you suggested. “You don’t always have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It’s okay to just... be.”

For a moment, Sunday was quiet, the rhythmic sway of the water filling the silence. Then, he gave you a small, genuine smile. “You always know how to bring me back to myself,” he said.

“Someone has to,” you quipped, bumping his shoulder gently.

The two of you stayed there for a while, talking softly about everything and nothing. Sunday’s voice was like the melody of the ocean itself, and you found yourself drawn to his thoughtful words, the way he painted pictures of his dreams and fears. In turn, he listened intently to your stories, his eyes never leaving yours.

As the hours passed, the tension in Sunday’s frame seemed to dissolve. He leaned back against the rock, his wings fluttering faintly as he gazed at the play of light on the water above.

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the gentle hum of the ocean.

"For what?" you asked, turning to look at him.

"For reminding me of the beauty in stillness," he replied, his gaze meeting yours. "And for always seeing the best in me, even when I doubt it myself."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you reached out, brushing a strand of silver hair from his face. "That’s easy," you said with a smile. "There’s so much to see."

Sunday’s halo pulsed faintly, its glow a soft, warm gold. He reached out as well, his fingers grazing yours, and for a moment, the ocean seemed to hold its breath.

And in the quiet, beneath the dreaming waves, you found something more profound than words—a connection that needed no explanation, only the quiet truth of its existence.

[localplaguenurse]

Sinking Feeling

Cecaelia!Pantalone/Reader for MerMay 2025

FINALLY I get this out of my system after two years! I hope you all like it!

Warnings: drowning, a LOT of drowning, and some fighting, wordcount 3k

For a moment, there is only the cold and the burning in your eyes and chest. Your body feels weightless, and your sense of up or down is disoriented. It’s not until you see another body plunge through the water’s surface that your brain, losing its supply of air, kicks back in and screams at you to fight back. 

You spy a long shadow bobbing above you, barely distinguishable from the dark waters all around you, and you start kicking. You try not to flail your arms too wildly, but when the bubbles force themselves from your nose and lips, you have to brute force it even harder than before. Your body screams for you to breathe, but you try keeping your lips sealed. Your vision darkens, and you try to grasp the shadow, but it’s too far away. You won’t make it, you’re not going to—

Your wrist is grabbed and you’re dragged up. You instinctually gasp before you’re fully out, sucking in a mouthful of salt water. You’re pulled up coughing and choking onto the lifeboat, and you smack your head on one of the seats when they pull you in. The world around you is muffled, and your burning eyes well up with tears as you retch and choke, nearly vomiting in the process. 

The violent nature of your coughing is enough to knock the water out of your ears, and all at once you can hear the screams of your shipmates. You turn and spy the ship through your blurry eyes. It’s already half submerged, and you can still see some of the crew running back and forth or fighting up top. The mast is on fire, and you’re not sure when and how the hell that happened. Some jump, but most already have. You spy another lifeboat, and you see familiar bodies littering the surface of the water. Some are still moving, struggling, but the rest…

You curl in on yourself, shivering and soaked to the bone. Your saviour, the quartermaster, pats you on the shoulder solemnly before sitting down behind you. Breathing hurts, but you force yourself to speak. 

“D… Do you know if the c-captain made it out?” you ask, your voice a hoarse, wheezing croak. 

“He was the first one killed,” the quartermaster tells you, “that’s what caused…” he gestures to the sinking ship, “all of that.”

“R-Right…”

Another body topples over the side of the boat and into the water. 

“All of that over s-some gold coins,” you remark.

“They weren’t just gold coins,” he reminds you.

“You know what I meant,” you hiss through chattering teeth, “h-how do we know he didn’t just count wrong?”

“When you lose your men trying to collect a monster’s hoard,” he says, “you won’t count wrong.”

His voice trails off, and you’re left with the sounds of screaming and splashing. You rub your numb hands together and pull your limbs in to try and build your body heat back up, enough that you might hopefully avoid being hypothermic. After some time, when the yelling and the splashing begins to die with the rest of your crew, the quartermaster picks up the oars inside the lifeboat and starts rowing. 

Just an hour ago, everyone on board was celebrating a successful journey and toasting to the men you lost along the way. At some point, the captain perhaps grew paranoid, and decided to take inventory of your loot. Three coins were missing, as well as a ring. He would have been mad regardless, but he was furious tonight. He flew into a blind, violent rage and started grabbing men and shouting in their faces about being dirty, good for nothing thieves. The gunner’s first reaction upon being nearly strangled was to shove the captain back with as much force as he could muster, and the captain hit his head hard on the way down. It was the match lighting the fuse, and the entire ship exploded into sheer insanity and chaos.

Your teeth chatter when you speak. “D-Do you think the others fff… found the other life b-boat?”

“This one was the only one facing upright,” the quartermaster answers.

You stare at your floating friends. “You think they m-might need help, then?”

He sighs. He says nothing more. He just keeps rowing.

You sit up a little. “Where are we going?”

“Island’s not too far from here,” he says, “if… if there are survivors, they’ll meet us there.”

“But–”

“We don’t have enough room,” he states, finally answering the question of if you’re going to help anyone. “Besides, this is going to draw in the… the wildlife.”

The Kraken is what he means.

“How’d that story go again?”

“Which one?”

“You know the one.”

The quartermaster sighs. “Thinking about it is only going to make things worse.”

You gesture to the dead bodies and two-thirds submerged ship. “The bar’s pretty fucking low already.”

The quartermaster shakes his head. He continues rowing, and you just stare at your shipmates. You watch their floating bodies, and there’s something deeply haunting with how their faces look now, pointed up towards the stars. You wonder what is going to feed on them first, and guilt twists in your stomach because that’s the only thing you can think of when you look at these people.

“You’re a bit younger than I am,” the quartermaster says, “but did you ever hear the story about the merchant’s lost treasure?”

You furrow your brow. “Ah… maybe? What does that have to do with the Kraken?”

“They’re connected,” he replies.

“Oh, really?”

He nods. “They used to tell that story back home,” he recounts, “it was some sort of lesson against pride or greed, it would depend on who was telling the story. The story was about a boy who came from nothing. He had no family, no home, no food, and no money. It was hard to call him dirt poor, for even dirt can be rich enough for weeds to grow. Because that boy had nothing, he fought tooth and nail to survive, and he understood the value of all that he possessed better than anyone else.”

He stops rowing to give his arms a break. “This ambition grew with him, and as an adult, he became a merchant. He continued working hard, and eventually became very successful.”

“S-Sounds pretty motivating,” you quip, counting the bodies. You’re missing a few crew members, but it’s very likely they had jumped off on the other side of the ship.

“It would have been if the merchant was a nice man,” the quartermaster states, “but he couldn’t have been farther from it. Having grown up in such an unforgiving way, it hardened him, killed whatever good was in him, and in its place was a pure hunger to have… everything. He hated the world and everything in it for treating him so terribly, so he sought to take everything he could get his hands on, essentially conquer the world. He was already one of the most wealthy and powerful men in his homeland, so it was now time to set out and conquer another.”

“And how’d that go for him?”

“Well, it depends on who you’re asking,” he says, picking up the oars again. “The version of the story I always heard was that the Kraken took his ship down. He stole something from it, or his ship was so full of treasure that it slowed them down, or he took a shortcut through its territory, but regardless, the story ends with it sinking his entire ship, killing everyone onboard.”

You watch the ship continue to sink.

“I’ve heard other stories that his ship just sank,” he continues, “it got caught up in a dreadful storm and was capsized, but that his greed and will to live was so strong that instead of drowning, he became the Kraken. Now he sinks any ship looking for his treasure, and takes whatever is onboard to add to his hoard.”

You pass the bodies, and you cast one last glance towards them. You mentally bid them all goodbye, but that doesn’t sit right with you, the obvious reasons aside. You feel like you’re forgetting someone.

You try to push that feeling away, and turn back to the quartermaster. “So which version of the story do you believe?”

He pauses his rowing to shrug. “Does it matter? It’s just a story.”

You groan. “Yes, b-because if I’m not thinking about the stupid Kraken, I’m going t-to be thinking about all the people who d-died tonight.”

He sighs. “The version where the merchant is killed by the Kraken, it seems the most likely. I hear cephalopods are pretty territorial.”

You think back on how you all got your hands on the treasure that ultimately caused everything. The island was known for the plethora of capsized and sunk ships surrounding it, no doubt caused by the monster that patrols the waters surrounding it. That is, if there is one, which none of you saw. Still, the stories gave you caution, and for some it gave paranoia, fear. The wreckages surrounding it like a coral reef of mankind’s hubris made navigation difficult as is. One man got caught on debris and ultimately drowned, while another cut himself badly trying to pull himself free. There was certainly more loot beneath the waves, possibly washed ashore after all these years, but your captain said it wasn’t worth it anymore. The chest you did retrieve would be enough for now.

“I prefer the story where he becomes the Kraken,” you say, “though I’m sure you’re right about the cephalopod thing.”

You see bodies in the water as the lifeboat comes around to the other side. There aren’t as many on this side as the other. You bid them farewell too as you pass them by.

“They say the Kraken’s treasure is cursed,” the quartermaster says, “it causes madness and misfortune if you hold onto it for too long.”

“You don’t say,” you remark, staring at the still sinking ship.

Your eyes fall back to the water, and you see the bodies, and with fewer corpses floating on this side, it makes the sudden absence of one of the bodies very obvious. You feel your stomach drop, and you rub your eyes. No, you must have counted wrong the first time, you must have. You look back and the sight hasn’t changed. One of the bodies, the one that was floating closer to the ship, is gone. You decide that’s why your count is off now, and why your count was off on the other side of the ship. They were just dragged down by the ship.

You pass the other lifeboat, and see it’s flipped upside down. You don’t see anyone around it, though, despite it not being that far from the ship. It would make sense that whoever is still alive right now would have clung to it, yet all you can see are those who have drowned.

You look back at the ship one last time, in time to see one of the drowned crewmates’ bodies bob in the water, then sink beneath the water.

“What’s wrong?”

You turn to the quartermaster, and you imagine your face looks pale in the moonlight. “N… Nothing.”

He clearly doesn’t believe you, and as such he stops his rowing. He stares at you, waiting for you to tell the truth. You feel sick to your stomach, and you feel sicker with every passing second.

“I-I couldn’t keep track of everything that happened,” you say, voice shaking, “b-but after the captain dropped, I recall there was this m-mad dash to grab as much treasure as you could, right?”

“Yes,” the quartermaster answers, “because the captain spilled the treasure on his way down.”

Your chest feels tight, and you look back at the bodies, and you see another one bob underwater and not resurface.

“Do you p-part of the curse is that the Kraken knows where a-all its treasure is?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Another body disappears, and you hear the quartermaster mumble out a “What the hell?” as he watches. For the second time this evening, adrenaline floods your system. Quickly, you shove your hands in your pockets, tearing them inside out when you find nothing in them. Maybe just maybe if you’re quick enough, you and the quartermaster can spared, and the Kraken will leave you alone, but that all hinges on you finding the right pocket.

Your fingers touch something cold and round, and you quickly close your fist around it and rip your hand out of the pocket. You wind your hand back and the quartermaster catches your hand just as you open your palm to throw it. You miss the ocean, dropping the contents on bottom of the lifeboat.

“What the hell are you–”

The quartermaster stops speaking when he looks down and sees three gold coins and a silver ring with an eye shaped amethyst reflecting the moonlight above you back at him.

He looks up at you. You stare back. 

His voice is cold as ice.

“It was you.”

You open your mouth to say something but don’t have the chance before he strikes your cheek hard, knocking you back and nearly overboard. You aren’t given a moment to recover before he punches you again, and again, and again, screaming and swearing at you for getting everyone killed, that this is all your fucking fault.

He gets off of you, quickly scoops up the treasure littering the boat. He leans over the edge of the boat to try and throw the coins farther, and screams when he falls over the edge. The adrenaline pushes you through the pain and you scramble over to his side of the boat. You can’t see him through the water, it’s too dark and too reflective, but he should be right there. Knowing he’d want nothing more than to kill you right now, you plunge your hand into the water, searching for some part of him to grab onto. The water is freezing, your fingers touch hair, skin, something, then make contact with a hand. You grab it hard, then plunge your other arm into the water and grasp the arm itself, digging your fingers in. You brace yourself against the boat and pull and pull and pull as hard as your body will allow, and then you pull harder. 

Your grip slips and you topple back into the boat, having half pulled the quartermaster into the boat. Your heart is pounding, your lungs burn and your whole body is stinging, aching. You look up and reach out to pull him the rest of the way into the boat, but stop.

The body… thing you’ve partially pulled into the boat isn’t the quartermaster. Its hands end in claws, webbing between the fingers. Scars and strange markings cover its otherwise pale skin. Its hair, long, black as night, dripping saltwater into the boat, obscures most of its face as it looks up at you. The only part of its face that you can see is its eyes, dark pools that lock you in place.

And then it glows.

The markings pulse with purple light, as do the eyes, further burning them in your mind. You’re frozen in place as it holds your gaze. It looks at you with pure contempt, pure hate. 

When it reaches forward with a glowing claw. You snap out of the trance and surge forward in a pure fight response. You catch the beast by surprise and plant your palms against its shoulders. You shove it back, and it falls back into the water. 

You stop, dead still, waiting for the monster to come back over the side of the boat. You feel that nagging voice tell you to look over the edge to see if it’s gone, but know very well that if anything, it’s waiting just beneath the waves for you to peek over so it can grab you like it grabbed the quartermaster. Instead, your body speaks for you, and you fall back into the boat, slumped against the side.

You didn’t think there would be any real harm in skimming a little bit of treasure off the top, hell you didn’t even think anyone would notice. Even if you did get caught, you didn’t think it would get this out of hand. You didn’t think anyone would get hurt except you. You’re an idiot, a full blown fucking moron. Two men died to get this treasure, and this is how you honour them? By getting the rest of the crew killed? 

You turn your head to look at the oars, but something catches your eye. You look down, and see something shining in the bottom of the boat. A pit forms in your stomach as you pick it up with shaking fingers, and you do not know if it is fear or cold that makes you shudder.

A silver ring with an eye shaped amethyst. The same colour as the monster’s glow.

You feel something bump the side of the boat, and hear something breach through the water’s surface. Something, several things, grab and hook around you, slick and agile, wrapping around your throat and pulling you back. You try to push forward, but all you do is rock the boat. You’re pulled back harder, and you manage to gulp one lungful of air before the boat flips.

You’re plunged back into the water, the freezing salt water sting your injured face, especially your eyes. You feel more tentacles wrap around your body, threatening to squeeze the air from your body. You let the ring go, and you see the webbed hand swipe it away from you.

You look up to the surface, but its face blocks your view. You see its bright amethyst eyes, and you see it smiling down at you.

Your mouth opens, and bubbles float past its head. Your vision blurs, then goes black as it pulls you further into the depths.

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Can I request something for yandere merman Kakyoin? :>

My idea is he not actually a merman but a sea witch with octopus body, just like Ursula in My little mermaid. He use his potion to turn into a merman to attract his darling because he know their darling will be afraid of his real form. He want to capture darling to be his mate forever.

Well that's my idea, feel free to be creative with the plot :D thank you so much

Never thought our boy who looks like Ariel was Ursula the whole time... now that I think about it Hierophant Green works perfectly with this. Kakyoin is a mimic octopus which allows him to change his skin and body to look like other things, which combined with magic you really don't stand a chance. This is from Kakyoin's perspective mostly. Reader is gender neutral but more feminine presenting because who doesn't love a pretty enby. I also do masc and andro too but why not mix it up. If you want a particular gender don't be afraid to ask!

Merrow=Nonbinary mermaid

Reel You In

You were perfect...

Bright (e/c) eyes, wide smile on your plush lips, shiny (h/c) hair

A true gem, a real pearl if you will

His treasure

His pretty little merrow

How did he mean you in all your divinity?

Kakyoin was taking stock of his ingredients, after all his magic still required special herbs and items of the deep. His green and white striped tentacles filtered through the vials and drawers. He was low on whale fat and Leviathan scales. Kakyoin sighed it would take him ages to find these rare ingredients. Leviathans aren't usually fond of getting rid of their scales. He'll have to scour the specialty market for these ingredients. The unfortunate thing is it only opens when the ocean is darkest. He gathered his cloak off the large mer skeleton it was hanging off of. He put on his cloak and swam into the darkness.

The market was full of sketchy characters per usual, nobody good came to the Night Market unless they were desperate. It was swarming with thieves, witches, and the usual assortment of outcasts and criminals' merfolk told stories of to make their fry behave. Of course, he was one of them so there was no room to complain. He was browsing the stalls when a heavy force knocked into him. His amethyst eyes filled with annoyance, someone was already trying to rob him, and he just got here. He snatched his satchel back and glared at the offender who apologized?

"I'm so sorry sir, I wasn't watching where I was swimming. Did you lose anything from your bag?" Intriguing. Looking at the figure in front on him he could tell they didn't belong. (h/l) (h/c) styled with a pretty white ribbon (if bald or hijab its tied around your neck). Wide (e/c) orbs full of innocence he'd not seen in a while (your innocent compared to him bro). You were very attractive in his eyes as it's not often to see someone be so decent in his line of work.

"Sir? Sir? Oh no did I hit you too hard?!" The merrow's worried voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Oh, no I'm fine no harm has been done. Mx. ..." You laughed which was a genuine laugh, not one full of malice, just pure joy. Kakyoin wishes he could capture that laugh and put it in a jar. "(Y/N) my name is (Y/N)." Oh, they were so trusting, the naive little thing. "Kakyoin, but you may call me Noriyaki." (Y/N) grinned at this and swished their shiny tail back and forth. "Okay Noriyaki it's so very nice to meet you! Oh no I need to go before the market closes! See you, Nori!" The cheerful merrow swam off leaving Kakyoin paralyzed in awe. Suddenly, finding those materials didn't seem so interesting.

Kakyoin hadn't slept well in a while, thoughts of a special little merrow kept him awake. Your beautiful face invaded his dreams, your laugh haunted his every waking moment, your coquettish smile taunted him so. Oh, you had no idea how much you drove him crazy! He had been neglecting his work to watch you from his seer glass. You were even more irresistible in your day-to-day life.

You were coming back from shopping eagerly talking to yourself about the new tops you bought when you bumped into a cecaelia. You were rather clumsy, weren't you? Now you would apologize profusely and offer this merfolk your aid. What shocked Kakyoin was when you froze at the sight of the person before you and swam away in a panic. How unusual of sweet little you. What could cause such a reaction? He hadn't seen you act so rashly even with the most intimidating fish folk but this ceacaelia made you swim away with fear he has never seen before. Does it mean?

No

NO.

You were afraid of cecaelia.

You were afraid of him.

Kakyoin's fantasy of finding you again and courting you was ruined, all because you were afraid of cecaelia. He was spiraling fast. He smashed bottles and flipped his cauldron over in a fit of rage. He never hated having tentacles in his life but now he wanted to rip them all off. His blue blood leaking from his hands reminding him of his physical imperfection. If only he was born a merman like you... then I idea struck him.

Maybe reaching you wasn't impossible.

Pain, throbbing pain was all Kakyoin felt. His tentacles felt like they were ripped clean off, but it was worth it for the emerald and silver fish tail he had now. Kakyoin was stumbling around like a guppy trying to get used to their fins for the first time. It was taking some practice, but he was getting used to it. Soon he'd be perfect. Perfect for you. Once he's reeled you in, he'd show the real him, but by then

You can't escape

Kakyoin was positively giddy with all the feelings of love he felt for you. All he needed to do was find his beloved but make it seem like a coincidence. After all, you were naive but a bit skittish. All the more reason to keep you safe from dangerous creatures of the ocean and take a delicate approach to get to you. After observing you for so long he knew where you liked to go and when. By now you would be gathering human trinkets at the abandoned ship you frequently explored. He couldn't care less about humans and their dirty little tools, but you loved them so and he loved you. He received a particularly shiny trinket from a recent customer (victim), a shining bejeweled brooch. Something irresistible for a little merrow such as yourself. Kakyoin could practically see the big sparkling eyes you would make at such a priceless treasure.

Kakyoin swam over to a lopsided piece of wood to hide behind and think of how to approach you organically. Muttering to himself plan after plan unaware of the curious merrow eyeing the distressed merman. Kakyoin felt a tentative tap on the shoulder. He flushed as he made eye contact with his darling, who smiled so brightly at him. They were so beautiful when they smiled so sweetly at him. "Did you need help-oh you're that guy from the market um... Norisaki?" You remembered him... sort of. What a wonderful thing!

"Noriyaki, I'm surprised you remembered me." Kakyoin chuckled to himself. You smiled at him before blushing slightly. "It's kind of hard not to since our meeting was so embarrassing." You were the type to allow embarrassing moments to dwell in your head long after they occurred. It was quite cute. "It's quite alright neither of us were truly harmed. Are you usually so hard on yourself?" Your flushed face grew even more red with the last sentence. "Um...I hold my silence?" Kakyoin laughed at your meek response.

"That's quite alright... you know between you and me I happen to come to this sunken ship for human treasures." At the words "human treasures" your eyes lit up like bioluminescent phytoplankton at the thought of finding a kindred spirit. "I didn't know other merfolk liked human things, most of my friends call their things garbage." You looked down sadly as you finished your sentence, tracing the water rotted wooden beam in your hand. Kakyoin placed a hand of yours and stared at you with his mesmerizing purple eyes. "Some people don't understand something's value if it isn't immediately obvious." Kakyoin pulls out the glimmering brooch that shone in the filtered light of the ocean, bringing out the (e/c) of your eyes.

"It's absolutely beautiful." You marveled at the brilliant emeralds and rubies that made up the serpent pendent. In all your trips here, you had never found something so opulent before. Only thing close was a rusty spoon. Kakyoin noticed your eagerness with a tender smile. "You can have it if you want." You looked curiously at the merman seeing if he was being serious. "I'm not going to bite you; you can take it." Kakyoin smiled as the merrow hesitantly took the brooch from his outstretched hand. Yes, everything was going to plan, he imbued that brooch with magic so he could track where you go. Like the serpent in mythology, Kakyoin was not to be trusted.

"Thank you so much Nori!"

"You're welcome, my darling."

His plan was working smoothly as you were practically eating anything he told you straight from his palm. You were so sweet and trusting, it made his heart melt from fervent worship. He adored you more than anyone ever could, that alone should make him worthy of you. However, his fish disguise wore off after 48 hours and he'd be put through hell again to bring back the illusion. It wasn't the slightest bit healthy to keep this act up, but it would be all worth it in the end. When he had you safely in his arms.

His precious little mate

He'd find a way for you to have children, through magic or adoption. That way when you accept him you would be fully bound to each other. Forever. A blue flush covers his faces as he giggles to himself, oh you two would have so many wonderful years together! Just you and him and no one else.

Of course, there were a few road bumps Kakyoin needed to face first.

Your friends were skeptical of his intentions towards you as he looked familiar to a certain sea witch who was known for taking advantage of the poor souls who came to him out of sheer desperation. He couldn't let them continue to poison your mind with their deceitful words (where's the lie tho?). His amethyst eyes glinted with sadistic glee as one by one your friends were placed under his thumb as they came to him for help for problems he caused.

Poor darling, you had no idea why all your friends suddenly disappeared without a trace. The towns people became suspicious of you, thinking you were the reason all these merfolk disappeared. You were ripe with insecurity for Kakyoin to harvest. You fit perfectly in his arms as you sobbed about how life seemed to dole out more that your fair share of problems. "Kakyoin I don't know what I've done to deserve this, do you think my friends hate me?"

Hate you? No one could be capable of hating you, and the wretches who do will be swiftly dealt with. "They aren't worth your tears; good friends wouldn't disappear without telling you. Besides I'm here with you, aren't I?" You gave him that adorable grin that he loved so much. "You're right I have you."

Kakyoin was positively giddy as he swam around his lair, cleaning as best as he could. He convinced you to seek out the guidance of the Emerald Sea Witch, and you took it like the naive, trusting little thing you were. He couldn't wait to show you his real form and seal your souls together via contract. Humming a hypnotic tune to himself and swaying his tentacles sensually, he heard a sweet little frightened voice call out. "Hello, I'm looking for the Emerald Sea Witch."

Kakyoin swam to the darkest corner of his shadowy lair and grinned to himself. His hard work was paying off. Now to reel you in. "You've come to the right place little merrow." He purred sweetly to you. You looked confused as you heard the familiar voice, why did the witch sound like your friend. "My friend told me you might know about the recent disappearances of the merfolk."

He couldn't hold back his chuckle, he had to restrain himself from holding you in his tentacles and peppering you with kisses. You were just too precious. "You'll have to be more specific darling; merfolk are always going missing." You back into the merskeleton where he hangs his cloaks, causing you to squeak with fright. He should have put that away. You were trembling with fear, yet you balled your shaky fists with resolve. Turning to the direction Kakyoin was lounging you spoke shakily. "The merfolk who went missing were my friends, I would like to know if they are alive." The last part made your voice crack with sadness. Seeing you waste your tears on such scum made his cheeks color with rage.

Patience

Kakyoin steadied himself and spoke once more.

"I'll make a deal with you little merrow, I'll find your friends and even let you see them..." Your eyes lit up with glee before turning a bit skeptical. "What do you want in return?" Kakyoin smiled widely in the dark, just a little bit more and you'll be in his tentacles. "I want you to give me rare treasure." The treasure he was referring to was you, but he knew that you would foolishly think the pendant would suffice.

"Deal."

"Excellent, just sign here." Kakyoin snapped his fingers and a golden contract appeared in front of you. If you were smarter, you would notice the fine print entailing that the treasure in question, was your soul bound to his for eternity. You took the quill without hesitation and signed your name on the dotted line.

He did it!

You were his!

"Now where are my friends?" Kakyoin rolled a single vial to you, inside were the trapped souls of your friends crying for you to help them. You gasped in terror and attempted to flee. Two tentacles wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards him. "Not so fast my dear you haven't finished your end of the deal; I want my rare treasure."

You sobbed in terror at the appendages you hated your entire life, octopus were your kind's natural predator. "Take it, just let me go." You grabbed the broach out of your worn satchel and threw it in the witch's direction. "I thought you'd be smarter than that (Y/N)." It clicked as to who was the sea witch. "No." You wanted to curl up into a ball as Kakyoin laughed at the misery in your voice. "Now (Y/N) is that anyway to speak to an old friend."

Kakyoin stepped into the glowing light the cauldron produced making you cry out in fear, anger, and betrayal. "You're not my friend, you lied to me!" You pulled further a the grasp of the tentacles attempting to escape the red head, but he pulled you closer and nuzzled his face into your neck. "I know that I have been a bit dishonest with my method of courting you, but I promise to be more honest in the future." "People will come looking for me and you'll be sorry then!" Kakyoin looked you in your frightened (e/c) eyes and frowned. He then plucked the white ribbon from your hair and sent a magical current towards the town.

"No one will look for you if they think your dead my treasure." Kakyoin cooed gently. "Now then lets finish this courting process, I want us to officially become mates." This statement caused more sobbing from your end as a silver collar appeared around your neck.

"Why?" Was all you could muster. Kakyoin swayed hypnotically with you in his arms. "How couldn't I when you reeled me in."

Sorry if the ending sucked I just wanted to make room for new requests and start working more on my reincarnated sins posts and a cult village story with my own yandere ocs. I hope you enjoyed

[eldritchpotato]

Octopi and the Castaway's Cry 5

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

It had been over a month and a half since you had been rescued from that miserable island, it seemed ridiculous to be going back. But the morning your campfire’s smoke had been spotted and your sea monster had slithered away back into the ocean as humans arrived to rescue you was the closest thing you had gotten to a goodbye. It simply would not do in the long run.

After your “encounter” in the water the two of you had only become closer. She apparently knew how to build a fire, something utterly humiliating considering she had to go out of her way to even be in an environment to do so. But burnt fish had never tasted so good.

She spent nights snuggled up with you, keeping you warm as best she could.

Her company could never been enough to make you want to stay forever but it had made the following days almost enjoyable. She had shown you around the island, brought you increasingly interesting meals, even built you a far better hut. She courted you, and you did your best to do the same.

The fact you had not had the chance to say goodbye had only made your return more inevitable. This time though you were on a boat. Once you had gotten back to the mainland and had managed to figure out where you had been it seemed almost silly how remote it had felt.

The wind sails through your hair as you speed towards the island now visible in the distance. Swallowing the lump in your throat you slow the boats speed and stear it towards shore.

Everyone thought you were nuts for wanting to go back but they didnt know who waited for you.

Turning off the engine and tossing the anchor over the side you kick off your clothes and dive into the water in nothing but your bathing suit. You need to round the bend to make it to where your camp was. Despite your best efforts you don’t make it that far.

A familiar red blur barrels into you so fast that she sends you tumbling through the water. Just like your first meeting she drags you to the surface.

“Hey,” you giggle, wrapped up in her tentacles as she keeps you afloat.

She thrills happily, nuzzling into you. Her tentacles are already familiarizing themselves with every inch of you, slipping under your one piece. 

“I missed you too,” you grin.

She holds her wrist up proudly, showing you the bracelet you had made for her out of some torn fabric and shells.

She’s so proud it’s adorable. You hold up your arm showing the tattoos you got over the last sucker marks she left you with. She stares in wonder, tracing the smooth skin of your arm.

You tug her back to the boat, she is hesitant to let go of you but she doesn’t have to. You reach up and grab one of the camping waterproof barrels. You pat it before pointing towards shore. She nods and tugs it into the water with a tentacle. You grab the other and together you carry your camping supplies to shore.

That evening after a big dinner involving lots of human foods, some of which more appealing to her palate than others, you retire together into the large tent you had brought.

She hasn’t stopped touching you since you’ve arrived, you know what she’s desperate for. She fucks you, filling every hole you have to offer with her tentacles, relishing in your cries and moans. You cling to her just as tightly, desperate to imprint her into your body.

A cheap camping tent feels like luxury compared to your last accommodations. She cares little for blankets, happy as always as long as she can wrap herself around you and hold you close.

Neither of you sleep, you can tell you leaving was hard for her. You won’t be able to stay forever, but you promise to come back again and again. All you can do is trust her and hope she understands.

But at least for the next few days you're all hers and there’s nowhere you would rather be.

[thesexydancingcrepe]

Mermay Romance!

🐙 🌊 🐚 ❤️ 🐒 🏴‍☠️

This is mad late! 😅 but I still really wanted to post this

While fishing, Nine gets dragged into the ocean by a strange creature he has never seen! 🐟 🐙

He tells his dad only for him to decide to take her home and wife her 🏡 💖 the Monkey King is quite strange 😉

[coldsaladpainter]

anyone know where I can find this Cecaeli shigaraki x siren!reader fic! 🥺🥺where siren!reader gets stuck under a boulder and shigaraki comes in to help her. i remember reading it not too long ago ,but can't seem to find it!! 😭😥

[joideka]

The ninth chapter is finished, we're in the home stretch!

[vunblr]

Tangled (#9)

Pairing: Cecaelia! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Slight Angst. Fluff. Slow Burn. Teratophilia.

Summary: Between fear and fascination, a solitary creature struggles to protect his hidden world -and himself- after an unexpected encounter with a curious human woman makes him question everything he thought he knew about trust, danger, and boundaries.

Word Count: 8.7k

note: This is one of the works I'm submitting for the @avengers-assemble-bingo event Kinky Bingo. The Prompt is Monster Fucking. Card number KB-014.

Previous Chapter

In the days that followed their kiss on the beach, something shifted. She kept returning to her usual spot near the rocks, sitting with her yarn and humming as if nothing had changed, but the air between them was different. Bucky lingered now. At first, he hovered at a distance, half-submerged, watching with those sharp, unreadable eyes. But as the hours passed, he grew bolder. Every time.

Sometimes he’d curl a single limb around her ankle as she worked, or stroke the back of her hand when she reached for something. Other times, he'd join fully beside her on the rocks, glistening in the sun, with his tattooed arm propping him up behind her like he’d always belonged there. The conversation flowed naturally between them, hesitant at first, then deeper. She asked questions about his kind. He listened to her stories about life before the coast. They learned from each other in fragments.

But it was mating season. And he was trying -really trying- not to crowd her, not to rush. Still, when she leaned back into him, when her thigh brushed his hip, his tentacles would stir without permission. At first, they only wrapped loosely around her waist or leg, but soon they started to roam, mapping the shape of her calves, her arms, the line of her back. He was always watching her face, always waiting to see if she'd pull away. She never did.

She let him explore. She started to touch him back, too. Tentative at first, but curious. They were becoming a slow, simmering thing. It wasn’t just instinct or heat. It was her choosing him, again and again.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped low and cast long golden streaks across the shore, something shifted again. They were lounging in their usual place, with her back to his chest, and his limbs lazily cradling her body like he couldn't help but touch her, because he couldn’t. They’d been speaking in soft tones, his voice low and gravelly near her ear, threading sweet nothings into her skin between slow kisses to her shoulder and jaw.

But then, one venturing limb strayed. A slow, absent-minded movement at first, but it grazed the damp fabric of her underwear, an area he’d deliberately avoided. He’d known touching her there would be different. Too much. He could already smell her arousal when she was near, taste it in the air. But direct contact? It sent a violent rush of sensations through his body, like being plunged into a current he couldn’t fight. Her warmth soaked into his cups, and he froze against her, with his lips parted, and his breath suddenly shallow.

He stopped mid-whisper, clenching his fingers on her waist as his whole body tensed behind her. Her scent and taste, so much stronger now, filled his head like salt and honey and heat. And then she moved. Just a little. A subtle shift. Her thighs parted ever so slightly, angling her hips toward the limb still resting where it shouldn't be.

The invitation was quiet and devastating.

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. His body moved before he had the chance to reason with it. His limbs tightened around her like a trap of velvet and steel, pulling her flush against him. Another tendril snaked low, slipping beneath the edge of her damp underwear with unerring precision, seeking the heat of her skin. The contact was electric. Her breath hitched, and she curled her fingers around the limb at her waist, not to push him away, not guiding him either. But her thighs stayed parted, and her body pliant in his hold.

A low, guttural sound rumbled from his chest as his lips found the side of her neck, open-mouthed and burning. He didn’t kiss so much as taste, drag his teeth along her pulse like a warning. His cups latched on tender skin, drawing slow, coaxing pulls, tasting her salt, her sun-warmed scent, the spike in her heartbeat that was desire, not fear.

He was unraveling.

His kind didn’t go slow. Didn’t take care. Not like this. And yet here he was, trembling with restraint and still failing, still losing control.

He pinned her. One arm around her middle, another limb curling over her thigh to hold her open, his slick skin pulsing against her core. The tip of a tentacle pressed forward again, slow and reverent. Her breath came out ragged. One more second and-

No.

With a strained, frustrated hiss, he tore himself away. Every limb uncoiled at once, releasing her like she burned him. He dropped low, twisting to the surf with a wild motion, and was gone, vanishing into the sea like a dark shape slipping between waves.

She sat up slowly, dazed, with her skin marked with the memory of his touch, and her chest rising and falling in a shaky rhythm. The place where he had held her felt suddenly empty, and her body was left thrumming with unfinished need.

She stayed there on the rocks long after he vanished into the sea. Her skin still tingled where he’d held her, where his cups had tasted, where his breath had scorched the base of her neck. It hadn’t frightened her, his strength, the way his instincts had flared. If anything, it had stirred something deep and primal, a mirrored longing in her own blood. But he had pulled back. For her. For his word. And though her body ached with the echo of what almost was, her chest ached more with understanding. He feared what he could do to her. And yet… she wasn’t afraid.

----

The next day, she finished up orders. Packed, labeled, and stacked the boxes that had to go out before the week was over. Her fingers worked purposefully, but her mind wandered to the shore. To him. To the way he almost lost control, to the moment they said “another day” they would speak.

Today was another day. And frankly, she was tired of circling the edges of something that had already been decided.

So when the tide began its slow afternoon retreat, and the sky shifted to the soft golds of the early evening, she made a decision. She grabbed a snack, tucked a bottle of water into her pack -and, why pretend?- stuffed a small blanket inside too. Just in case.

She changed into a dress that hit just above the knees, a breezy thing that left her legs free and bare to the touch of the wind… or curious tendrils. Her cheeks warmed just at the thought.

Then, before heading out, she paused by the shelf near the window and picked up the bracelet she’d made months ago. A simple band, crocheted leather strips, with one of the flat, spiraled conches he had gifted her woven into the center. She hadn’t worn it before. Not yet.

She tied it around her wrist and stared at her reflection for a moment. Then she smiled -a little foolish, a little excited- and stepped out into the sea breeze.

----

She didn’t even bother to sit in her usual spot by the rocks. Her mind was too loud, and her body too restless. The moment she arrived, she walked straight to the mouth of the cave with a hammering heart, and her eyes adjusting to the softened light streaming down from the stone chimneys above the place.

“Bucky?” she called, once. Then again.

His voice came from behind her, low and calm. “Didn’t expect you. You weren’t on your rock earlier.”

She spun with a startled yelp, clutching her chest. “You almost killed me.”

He only snorted, and his eyes glinted with mild amusement as he rolled them at her. He leaned back against the damp rock wall, resting his arms behind him, with his body half-floating in the pool. Tendrils swayed lazily with the motion of the water, catching the scattered light like ribbons of ink.

“Had things to do,” she said, trying to slow her heartbeat. “I don’t hunt my food, remember? I have to work to go buy it.”

He quirked a brow, with something unreadable flickering in his gaze as he watched her approach. She moved toward him slowly and sat on one of the dryer rocks near the pool’s edge, tucking her legs beside her.

“I came to talk,” she announced.

“You always talk,” he deadpanned.

“Ha ha. Very funny,” she rolled her eyes, but smiled. “You know what I mean.”

He nodded, slowly, with a guarded expression. “Yeah. I do.” He was about to bring up what happened the day before, but his eyes flicked to her wrist and lingered there. His gaze locked on the bracelet, on the spiral of the conch he'd given her long ago. Woven now with care into leather and worn like something meant to stay.

He didn’t say anything at first, but she watched how the tension subtly shifted across his chest. One of his tendrils stilled mid-motion in the water, then curled inward, like it was thinking.

“You made that,” he finally said, quiet and almost disbelieving.

“Yeah,” she said, suddenly self-conscious. “Months ago, actually. I just… didn’t wear it until now.”

His gaze dragged back up to hers, slower this time. There was something raw in the look he gave her, like that simple gesture had undone some tightly wound thing inside him.

“I noticed,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “It suits you.”

And then, a little quieter, like it escaped before he could stop it: “You kept it.”

“How couldn’t I?” she said, almost like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her fingers grazed the bracelet. “You gifted it to me.”

Something shifted in him. She saw it. His chest expanded with a silent inhale, and a swirl of pride flickered behind his gaze. Subtle, but unmistakable. That she’d kept it. That she wore it, out in the open, where others could see. She hadn’t just accepted the token; she’d chosen to display it, to carry him with her.

He wetted his lips unconsciously, and without a word, began gliding toward her. The water cradled his body in flowing movements, as his limbs trailed behind like dark ribbons. When he reached the edge of the rock she sat on, he braced himself against it, folding his arms along the rim and resting his weight there. Close, but not quite touching.

His tendrils twitched beneath the surface, brushing the stone, aching to reach for her. But he held back.

“So… yesterday,” she began, her voice was a bit tentative as she smoothed her hands over the front of her dress. “We- well, you know.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You yielded to me.”

She huffed a laugh. “Is that what you call it? I wasn’t exactly resisting, you know.”

“It is what it’s called,” he replied with a hint of a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Even when the female is willing and courts us first, she resists before the final moment. It’s… instinct.”

She blinked. “Why resist?”

“Because,” he said simply, “even if we carry the mark of aptitude, they still need to test our strength. To see for themselves what we’re capable of. Whether we’re worthy of strong offspring.”

There was no shame in his tone. No pride either, just fact.

She frowned as she tried to imagine it. “So there’s violence involved?”

“Some,” he admitted. “Until they yield. Until they accept.”

“Oh my god,” she muttered, shaking her head. “No offense, but that doesn’t sound very… nice.”

He shrugged one shoulder, water rippling with the motion. “Nature isn’t always nice.”

She blinked, processing that with wide eyes. “That’s… intense.”

His eyes didn’t leave her face. “It’s instinct. But we’re not only instinct.” His voice dropped a little. “Not always.”

Her hand found the edge of her dress again, smoothing the fabric over her thigh. “So… when I accepted, it wasn’t the same. I didn’t resist. I didn’t fight you.”

“No,” he said, with a slowness that bordered on reverent. “You considered me apt.”

He didn’t say what that meant to him, but she could see it. In the way his pupils dilated, in the subtle way his shoulders dropped, in tension bleeding out of his body, in the small movement of a tendril that came close to her foot, hovering there, trembling slightly, before withdrawing again.

“You’re not… disappointed by that?” she asked, quieter now.

He leaned in closer, resting his chin on his crossed arms, as the water lapped softly against the stone between them. “I wouldn’t have touched you if you’d fought me,” he said, honest and firm. “I wouldn’t have wanted to. You’re human, not like the females of my kind. If you’d resisted… it would be because you weren’t interested. And that you chose me…” He exhaled through his nose. “It means more.”

There was a moment of silence between them, charged and delicate. Then she smiled softly, leaning a little closer, just enough that her knee brushed his arm.

“Good,” she said in barely above a whisper. “Because I meant it.”

He sighed deeply, and the sound echoed faintly off the damp stone walls of the cave. One hand raked through his hair, slicking his damp strands back as he gathered himself. The water beaded along his skin, catching the fading light in the cave.

“I…” he started in a low voice. “I’ve been drawn to you since the autumn days. Since you first started coming here. It has nothing to do with what’s happening to me now.”

Her chest felt lighter with something close to relief. Without thinking, she reached out to take his hand, but he shook his head gently, stopping her.

“Please don’t touch me. Not until we talk.” His voice cracked just a little, betraying the strain. “It’s not easy for me.”

She curled her fingers back into her lap, nodding slowly. “Alright.”

His shoulders relaxed just barely at her understanding.

“I want to try what you do. What your kind does for bonding, to last, to share things. It’s not something purely sexual.” His gaze lifted to hers, raw and hungry and full of intent. “Still, I desire you. I want to mate with you. To make you mine, and no one else’s.”

Of all the confessions she might’ve expected, it wasn’t that, at least not said like that. With that kind of depth. Warmth bloomed in her chest, fierce and radiant, and she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips.

But then, his expression shifted.

“But…” he looked away. “I won’t trick you. You deserve to know what I am. What I’ve done.”

She nodded slowly, leaning forward without thinking, as if her body was reaching to understand before her mind could catch up.

“About... eighty winters ago,” he began, in a low voice, almost guttural, “far away from here, I was captured. Tricked by a human man who pretended to be my friend.”

His expression went somber, and he pressed his lips into a thin line. Her breath stilled.

“I was... naïve back then. Trusting. I thought the stories they told us -to stay away from the land, from humans- were exaggerations. I believed we somehow could coexist.” He paused and clenched his jaw. “Until we couldn’t.”

His eyes darkened with memory. “One night, I came to see him... and what I found was a group of men waiting for me. They overwhelmed me. Weakened me with harpoons and bound me. Then they dragged me into a ship like some cursed trophy.”

She drew in a sharp breath, horrified, but she didn’t interrupt, pressing her fingers hard into the stone beneath her instead.

“I was probed. Studied like a thing. And I was awake for it.” His voice cracked there, but he pushed on. “They... broke me. Rearranged me. Then... they used magic -something ancient, dark- to twist my mind. To bend my will.”

His voice was hollow now, haunted.

It was the first time she’d heard of magic being real. But she couldn’t question it, not when he sat there before her, a real and breathing myth, scarred from things she couldn't even begin to imagine.

“That’s... terribly painful and hard-”

“I’ve killed people.” His voice snapped through the air like a whip, silencing her.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Countless men,” he went on, looking not at her, but through her. “And... my kind too. I was made to fight. To hunt. To destroy. And I did.”

He swallowed, and the motion looked thick and pained. “That is why I was attacked. Because of what I did, because I was one of them for too long.” He didn’t move. Didn’t look at her. Just waited. Braced himself.

And she -heart pounding, emotions torn between anguish, fury, and an ache she couldn’t name- still didn’t back away.

"How... how did you get free?" she murmured, her voice barely more than breath.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and the silence stretched before he answered. “Spent twenty winters under their control. Until a friend man-hunted me and cut me loose.”

Her brows furrowed. “A friend?”

“Yeah,” he exhaled, and his fingers clenched slightly on the edge of the rock. “I told you that my kind doesn’t bond. We’re proud, isolated. Weakness is despised. But... Steve and I were together since we were pups.”

He finally looked at her. “He was so small. So weak. Couldn’t have survived those first independent years on his own. And I... I don’t know. I couldn’t just leave him. It felt wrong. So I stayed with him.”

Her chest clenched at the image of a young Bucky, already protective, already different.

“We stuck together most of the time. He got stronger. Better. There was a witch involved in that,” he added with a flicker of disdain, “but it wasn’t my business. He didn’t ask for my opinion anyway, hot-headed as he was.”

She gave him a soft, understanding smile. “And... where is this friend now?”

He hesitated. The word friend seemed to sting.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “He mated a human woman. Chose to live among them.”

Something brittle and old bled into his tone.

“I was hurt. Felt betrayed. After what they did to me, what they made me become... he chose to be with a landwalker. Right after freeing me.”

His jaw tensed, and his lips curled slightly in frustration. “I was thankful. But angry, too. So angry.” he admitted. "I distanced myself from him, the only one who gave a shit to bring me back and not just put me down. But the feeling of betrayal was stronger. I was... broken. In more than one sense."

Her heart twisted at his confession. So much pain, layered over time like the rings of a wounded tree. She knelt down at the edge of the pool, and reached out without hesitation. Screw the warning from earlier.

"Who could blame you for that?” she murmured, folding her arms around his damp shoulders. “You suffered too much. You can rationalize it now, but at the time... you were raw.”

He stiffened under her touch, and every muscle in his back went tense. But he didn’t pull away.

She pressed her cheek to the crown of his head, and his breath hitched once against his crossed arms, his face still hidden from her. He stayed like that, tense, quiet.

Then slowly, as if it took a great effort, as if some part of him was still waiting to be punished for being vulnerable, his other limbs responded. Tentacles slithered up around her waist and lower back, coiling loosely, cautiously. Not to hold her in place, not to restrain, but to seek. To self-soothe.

He didn’t speak again. Just let himself be enveloped by her arms. Let himself rest, for a moment, in the warmth of someone who didn’t flinch.

Eventually, he found his voice. “Now you know what I did. You can turn back. Leave. Despise me, if you want. It wasn’t fair to let you be with me without the truth.”

She didn’t flinch or loosen her arms from around him.

“Why would I despise you?” she asked softly, pulling back just enough to see him. “Look at me. Hey,” her hand brushed the damp strands of hair from his temple, coaxing him gently, “let me see your pretty eyes.”

He scoffed -more out of habit than defiance- but he lifted his head anyway, meeting her gaze with a reluctant flicker. There was a storm behind his irises, old and violent, but he let her see it.

She cradled his face, grazing his cheeks with her thumbs.

“You were a victim,” she said firmly. “They made you do things you wouldn’t have done if you’d had a choice. I do not think less of you because of what you told me.”

Her voice wavered, but her eyes didn’t. “If anything… it takes courage. To carry it. To speak it. And to tell me, give me the choice to know something you could’ve easily hidden forever? That’s not something a coward does. That’s someone who respects me. Someone I… care about.”

His breath caught, and his tentacles shifted slightly around her, like they were trying to pull back, but couldn’t quite let go.

“I know you think you’re too broken to be wanted,” she murmured. “But you’re not. Not to me. I don’t see a monster when I look at you, Bucky. I see someone who survived. Someone who protects. Someone who still knows how to care.”

He blinked slowly, as if her words took a second longer to reach his mind through all the layers of shame and pain. The weight behind his gaze didn’t lift, but it softened.

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead gently against his. “I still want you. That hasn’t changed.”

His arms didn’t move, still crossed tightly over the edge of the rock, but one of his tendrils coiled slowly up her spine, tentative in its touch. “…You’re not scared of me,” he said at last, barely more than a whisper.

“I’m not,” she answered. “I trust you.”

He closed his eyes, and the tension in his shoulders bled out by degrees. Then, in a voice edged with something old and bitter, he said, “There were moments I thought I’d never speak again. Never be seen again. But then you came here… and sat on that rock every day like I was just an equal in a cave and not a thing swimming in shadows.”

His lashes lifted, and his eyes searched her face. Then, with a slow breath, he pushed himself upright.

Water slid down from his torso in long, smooth rivulets, and his damp hair clung to his temples and neck as he turned and eased himself onto the flat rock beside her. He moved slowly, like he didn’t want to spook her, though his limbs remained loosely coiled around her hips and lower back, more by instinct than intent now. A tactile confirmation she was still close, and still his, even if only in this fragile, flickering moment.

Before he could speak -before he could thank her or tell her what she’d just given him- she leaned back slightly.

Just enough.

Her teeth caught her lower lip, and holding his gaze with purpose, she tilted her head, baring her throat in invitation.

A heartbeat passed.

His pupils dilated instantly, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply, sharply, drawn forward by the sudden clarity of her scent, wanting, open.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“…You’re doing that on purpose,” he murmured, voice rough with restraint.

She didn’t look away. “Yes.”

His tendrils twitched, curling tighter for a breath before easing again, their grips were gentle but possessive.

“I said I wouldn’t rush you,” he murmured, with his eyes locked on her exposed neck “but… you're making it very hard.”

His hand finally reached for her, slowly, brushing the hair from her shoulder as he leaned in -not to touch with his mouth, not yet- but to breathe her in again, filling himself with her essence.

Bucky inhaled again, and his eyes fluttered half-closed as her scent bloomed around him. Then came his teeth' soft, sharp click, an unconscious sound of instinct and want.

He drew back just enough to meet her gaze with a hooded and serious expression.

And then -slowly- he turned his head and lifted his chin, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat to her. The tendons shifted beneath his damp skin, and the pulse was faintly visible just beneath the surface. She moved without hesitation.

Leaning in, she mirrored his gesture, lifting her chin and echoing what he'd just done. Her lips hovered near his jaw, not quite touching, but her intention was unmistakable. Her acceptance was not passive.

Bucky’s eyes burned with heat, his entire body was tense with desire and control, the coils of his limbs flexing around her waist, her thighs.

And then, her hand rose.

She didn’t go for his face or chest. She reached instead for his arm, brushing her fingertips over the intricate tattoos swirling across it. The marks were dark and sinuous, almost alive under the dim light, telling a story she had yet to learn. Her touch was reverent, following the curves and lines with slow, deliberate pressure, circling her thumb over a spiraled sigil inked with a star in its center.

Bucky stiffened, and a tremor coursed through his limbs.

“You know what you’re doing,” he wanted to confirm, his voice thick and low.

“I do,” she whispered, eyes never leaving his. Her touch slid further over his marked skin, splaying her fingers over the spiraling designs, warmly and sure.

He pressed closer, clenching his arms around her, with his chest nearly brushing hers now. One of his tendrils curled behind her knee, not yet demanding, just present.

“Then you know what comes next,” he murmured.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she breathed. “And I want this. I want you.”

He groaned low in his throat, and the sound vibrated against her cheek, as his mouth found hers in the next breath with no hesitation, no tentative brush of lips. And his limbs -no longer restrained- finally explored her as they had longed to. Tendrils slid beneath the hem of her dress, curling around her thighs with reverent pressure, mapping every inch of skin.

She gasped into the kiss, gripping his shoulders as his touch coaxed a tremble from her legs.

Then he pulled back slightly, just enough to speak against her mouth, his breath hot and uneven. “This attire is... conveniently made,” he muttered, brushing the edge of the fabric with a smirk in his tone.

She huffed a soft laugh. “How perceptive of you,” she teased, grazing his lips as she spoke.

His grin was a flash of white teeth, brief and crooked, before he captured her mouth again, rougher now, more claiming.

The tendrils on her thighs caressed with unhurried confidence, coaxing her knees further apart as one traced the sensitive inside of her leg. Another curled around her waist, pulling her flush against the firm plane of his body.

Everything about him enveloped her: his heat, his scent, his voice, low and gruff in the moments their lips parted for air. One of his hands braced against the stone, the other cradled the back of her head, and still, his limbs kept moving, pulling reactions from her that made his pupils blow wide with hunger.

“Say it again,” he breathed into the curve of her neck. “Say you want me.”

“I want you,” she repeated, without a shred of doubt.

His limbs moved with growing confidence now, sure in their purpose. Two of them slid higher underneath her dress, teasing along the hem of her undergarments, while others coiled around her waist and shoulders, holding her gently but firmly in place.

She shivered against him, not from fear, but anticipation.

Another tendril, slick and warm, brushed up her spine beneath the dress, making her arch with a gasp. He used the movement to pull the fabric upward. The dress peeled away, gathered slowly above her hips, then over her head as one limb coaxed her arms up while another tugged the garment free.

He pulled back just far enough to look at her bare before him with nothing but the bracelet on her wrist and a flimsy cloth over her sex. His pupils were blown wide, and his chest rose in shallow pants as he took her in.

“I dreamed of this,” he confessed, in a hoarse voice, “Of you. Like this.”

She touched the edge of his jaw, brushing the corner of his mouth with her thumb. “Then don’t wait. I’m right here.”

That undid him.

Tendrils slid down her sides, curving to trace the lines of her waist and her thighs. One hooked beneath the last scrap of fabric between them and tugged slowly -teasingly- down, baring her completely to him, and for a beat, he just looked. She was breathing heavily beneath the curl of his limbs, and when his gaze fell to her chest, he stilled completely.

Slowly, as though touching something sacred, one of his limbs rose and coiled gently beneath her breast, lifting the soft weight into his grasp. It filled his grip in a way that made his throat tighten, and awe and hunger tangled inside his chest. His other limb followed, mirroring the shape, reverently wrapping around it, cups pulsing softly against her skin as they explored the warmth and texture.

She gasped when he touched her nipples -sensitive, already peaked- and his entire body responded to the sound. One of the cups latched gently, suckling with a subtle, exploratory pull.

Her eyes flew open. “It feels like you’re… like your mouth is sucking on it,” she moaned, breath catching on the words.

He plucked at the stiffened peak again with more intention this time, watching, feeling her react, seeing how her body arched into his grasp, how her scent sharpened with each motion. His pulse thudded in his ears, and his limbs were trembling with restraint as her thighs shifted and parted beneath him.

When he slid a limb down to test between them, it came away wet, soaked in her desire. Her taste, carried in the fluid that filled his cups, made him reel. He groaned low in his throat, a raw, unguarded sound.

Then, bolder, he plucked the other nipple between his cups as her moans spilled freely.

Her lips parted on a sigh, and her eyelids fluttered low when his tentacle returned to that place between her legs, rubbing with slow, deliberate pressure against the sensitive folds. The slick heat, and when his cups grazed a small, firm nub tucked just above her entrance, her body jolted like he’d struck lightning beneath her skin.

She wanted to touch him back, show him what she felt, drag her fingers down his body, trace the hard line of his jaw, kiss the shell of his ear, but she couldn’t. He was everywhere. Beneath her, around her, holding her firm with strength that somehow managed to be gentle. Each movement, each probing touch, each curious flick of his suckers pulled another soft moan from her lips.

The cups latched on instinct, closing over that pearl-like flesh, tugging gently, then more insistently with each pass. Her reaction nearly unraveled him. She arched, shuddered in his grasp, her thighs trembled around his limbs. She grabbed his forearms with a desperate grip, as if she might fall apart without him holding her, though he never would’ve let her.

Hard, quick gasps poured from her lips with every pull of his cups. Her hips twitched before she could stop them, trying to follow the source of that delicious tugging pressure, and he felt it all, through the taste in his mouth, the grip of her fingers, the slickness against his limbs.

He tilted his head, puzzled, fascinated. “What is that?” he asked, lifting her slightly with his limbs to get a clearer look at the glistening bundle of nerves nestled between the soft folds of her sex.

She groaned, covering her face with both hands. It was far too late to be shy, but the gesture was instinctive. “That’s… that’s my clit,” she mumbled from behind her fingers.

He blinked. “What is its purpose?” His voice was curious, gentle even, as his fingers replaced the cups and stroked it carefully.

She flinched,  “Um- it’s… it’s for pleasure. Just pleasure,” she managed to say, as her hips chase the contact without her control.

His breath hitched. That concept -just pleasure- made him freeze in awe. “We… don’t have anything like this,” he murmured, almost reverently. “Everything we have… it serves a function. This… this is only for you?”

She nodded, slowly lowering her hands from her face to meet his gaze. “Yeah. It’s sensitive. It… feels good when touched.”

His pupils were wide, blown with wonder and something much darker. “Then I want to learn everything about it.”

Before she could answer, he eased her back onto the mossy, softened stone beside the water. The cool air kissed her bare skin, and he was right there, around her again, his limbs braced to either side, one still coiled beneath her back, another curling around her calf. The others, she couldn’t keep track anymore. One was wrapped gently around her breast, another smoothing over her waist, her hip, her belly, and lower.

He kissed her thigh without warning.

"Just like a clam", he commented as he spread her lower lips with his thumbs, "a clam and its precious pearl."

"Never thought about it like that" she chuckled, but was interrupted by a moan when he circled her clit with his lips and sucked, tracing his tongue along her slit after satisfying his curiousness.

Then he had an idea. He leaned back and lifted her, almost sitting her on the cradle of his tentacles, and grasped the back of her neck, tilting her head up to make her look at him. Then, one of his limbs slide back between her legs to nestle on her mound, and used a cup to suckle at her clit intently.

"Oh my god" her voice trembled as her hips ground shamelessly against his appendage.

His gaze was dark, enjoying every shift of her blissful expression for the pleasure he was giving her. He. No other.

"I'm- don't stop" she whined, and he tilted his head again.

"You what, mate?" he asked, still having her by the neck, forcing her to look at him through hooded eyes.

"I'm going to cum" she breathed.

He touched one of his canines with his tongue and then clicked his teeth. The words were foreign to him, but he understood their meaning. "Show me then. Show me what I do to you," he murmured, going further, sliding the tip of his tendril inside her wet heat in tandem as the cups kept suckling on her. Her body tensed, and her lips parted in a silent scream as the orgasm hit her, clenching around his limb, clawing his shoulders, arching her back in an impossible angle as the wave of pleasure made her tremble under his touch.

Her head lolled forward, resting on his shoulder, and her breath came in soft, broken bursts against his damp skin as her body slowly relaxed in his grasp. His tentacles cradled her like something precious, but they were twitching now, with restraint, with want.

Bucky exhaled through his nose, heavy and shaky. He pressed a kiss to her temple, lingering there for a moment as if centering himself.

"I pleased you," he murmured, low and hoarse, his voice vibrating against her skin. “You came apart in my arms. Let me see it, feel it. You gave that to me.”

His hand, large and warm, settled at the small of her back. The limbs encircling her shifted with less grace and more urgency now, tightening slightly, drawing her closer.

"My body…" he started, pausing, jaw clenching as if trying to hold himself back one last time. His gaze flicked down to where their bodies pressed together, then up to meet her eyes, dark and searching. "I need to mate with you, now. I’ve waited, held back, but- It hurts to keep it inside.”

One of his limbs slid slowly along her spine, not to tease but to soothe, to keep her present. “You said yes. You chose me. And now my whole body is calling to answer that choice.”

From the haze of pleasure still coursing through her body, she blinked slowly, registering the slight tremble in his voice, in his hold. She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb across the high arc of his cheekbone.

“It hurts… to keep it inside?” she asked softly, almost wondering.

He nuzzled faintly into her palm, like the simple touch soothed something primal. “I didn’t want to scare you,” he admitted, a little gravel in his voice now. “So I held it in.”

“Oh.” Her brows drew in gently. “Oh, you mean your… okay. So, it’s inside you?”

“Yes,” he nodded slowly, pupils blown wide and locked on her. “It… grows when I’m aroused, like a human male’s. But it’s concealed. Normally, one just…” he hesitated, then made a gesture, vague but suggestive, like something unfurling. “Just let it out. But-”

“You didn’t want to scare me,” she finished for him.

He gave a barely-there nod.

There was a pause.

“Should I?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper now. “Be scared?”

His eyes flicked to hers. “It shouldn’t hurt,” he answered honestly. “I think. But it’s… different. Not like what you’ve known or seen.”

She smiled, small and sure. “You’re not like what I’ve known or seen either,” she said, tracing her fingers along his skin. “But that didn’t stop me from choosing you.”

He made that low sound again, a rumble that seemed to rise from the depths of his chest and echoed softly off the cave walls, vibrating through the water between them. His grip on her softened, but tension still prevailed in his body like a storm barely held back.

And then… something shifted.

Just beneath the sculpted lines of his abdomen, down the center of his Adonis belt, she saw a movement, a hidden seam parting with organic grace. It unfurled with a subtle flex, almost like how some mollusks opened under sunlight. And then, without warning, there it was.

He had wanted to reveal it slowly. To give her time. But his restraint had burned to cinders the moment she told him she trusted him. That she wanted him. The moment she climaxed in his arms. There was no holding back now, not with the fire coursing through his veins and her scent heavy on his skin.

She stared, with her lips slightly parted. It wasn’t grotesque or monstrous. Just… different. The same black and blue patterns of his limbs trailed over the shaft, the surface gleaming faintly like polished shell and velvet. Not exactly human, not exactly beast. Thick and ridged in places, with a subtle pulse that told her he was very much alive with want.

Definitely not in the small category. But it wasn’t disheartening. In fact, it sparked something else entirely.

She bit her lip. “Can I touch it?”

He didn’t speak. Just clenched his jaw, and a muscle twitched near his temple. But he nodded once, deliberately, with his eyes fixed on her every move like a predator.

Her hand reached forward, slow but sure, grazing the ridged surface with her fingertips. It twitched in response, and so did he, every muscle in his body going tense as if her touch sent lightning down his spine.

“God,” she whispered, brushing down its length, marveling at its weight and heat. “You really were holding back.” She stated, looking at him while giving a tentative squeeze.

He didn’t smile. Not this time.

“Is it… of your liking?” The question came low, strained, like it cost him something to ask. He wasn’t just teasing or fishing for praise. He was uncertain, genuinely. And she could tell that wasn’t something that happened often. He’d spent a life being feared or desired, and now… he was asking her, the one person he trusted, if this part of him -this exposed, vulnerable part- was acceptable.

Her eyes dropped again to the hard, pulsing length that stood rigid between them, black and blue like his limbs, ridged in a way no human man could ever be. She could see why he’d worry.

It was definitely different. But it wasn’t frightening. Not to her. She didn’t stop touching him. Her fingers explored gently, tracing the contours, watching the way his breath hitched and his jaw clenched tighter. The ridges, texture, and subtle shift in her palm were unfamiliar, but not frightening. Actually… it reminded her of a night, long ago, giggling tipsy with a friend, scrolling through some ridiculously NSFW novelty site and stopping on a selection of fantasy dildos. Some textured like tentacles, some curved or ridged. Some of them… kind of hot.

And this one? Real. Warm. Alive.

“I think it's beautiful. You are beautiful. I find it-” She hesitated, then bit her lip and met his eyes again, trying -and failing- to wrap her hand gently around him. “I wonder how it would feel inside me.”

His pupils dilated instantly, the ocean-blue swallowed in black. His tentacles shifted around her hips, drawing her in unconsciously, as if her words triggered a primal response in him he could no longer suppress. His throat worked around a groan, and one of his hands came up to cradle her cheek with reverent care.

“You want to find out?” he asked, with a low, wrecked voice, barely holding control.

She didn’t answer, not with words. She leaned into his hand, brushing her lips over the rough pad of his thumb before kissing the center of his palm. That was enough. That was more than enough.

And then he moved.

His limbs shifted, cradling her body, circling her waist and her thighs. She gasped softly, and her hands instinctively flew to his shoulders for balance, but there was no real danger of falling. He was everywhere. Beneath her, around her, holding her like she was already part of him.

“I’ll be gentle,” he said, like a vow, even as his pupils stayed blown wide. “Unless you ask me not to.”

He spread her legs farther, and his mating shaft brushed up the soft skin of her inner thigh before guiding himself with his hand, rubbing against her slick and probing at her entrance. She whimpered as he stretched her with his engorged tip, and he froze, staring at her face for a sign that she wanted him to back off. Maybe his limb wasn’t enough to prepare her for what was coming.

Her eyes fluttered open when he stopped moving. “Please, don’t stop.” She pleaded.

So he didn’t, instead pushing all his length inside her, feeling something in the process he had no parallel for. Mating with his kind had been nothing like this, maybe because she was smaller in size. He retreated and pushed again, and again, as her fingers clawed at his arms and her moans and whimpers grew more frantic. This time, he had no doubts about the sounds she was making, especially since she whispered the words deeper, and more as he pushed into her.

Her hips swayed with his thrusts, and she already felt another orgasm building embarrassingly fast. He kept tugging at her clit and nipples like sucking kisses, at compass with his cock that stretched her deliciously with every drag. His limbs clenched around her body, creeping across her skin, and leaving little marks in their wake. It was an indescribable feeling that was so erotic that she couldn’t speak, beyond begging him in barely coherent words not to stop.

He pulled her closer to his body so her chest was against his, so she grasped one of his shoulders more firmly and leaned forward to kiss and lick the strong column of his neck, and he moaned. She decided she wanted to hear that again, so she nipped softly at his pulse point, which resulted in another moan and a harder thrust that made her cry out.

Suction cups kissed her trembling inner thighs, adding to the overwhelming sensations, and more of them stroked over her waist. One wandering limb prodded at the tight hole next to where his mating shaft pumped inside her. She shivered as he explored, not making any move to stop him until he pressed too deeply inside. He stopped as soon as he felt her tense, and moved away to trail light suction kisses up her back instead.

She nipped at his neck again, a teasing bite just below his ear, and the sound he made in response was feral. A low, guttural growl that vibrated through his chest and straight into her pussy. His fingers tangled in her hair in a possessive fist, tugging her head gently but firmly to the side, baring her neck.

Then his mouth was there, hot and open over her pulse, where it thundered beneath the skin. He licked once, slow and deliberate, before closing his teeth over the spot in warning. His breath was ragged, lips brushing her skin as he spoke.

“Want to mark me, mate?” he asked, voice thick and raw.

The way he said mate spiked her desire.

“Because I want to mark you. I’m going to mark you, so everyone knows-” he changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting deeper inside her, making her scream, “that you are taken, and only respond to me.” Her moans and whimpers echoed inside the cave, and the wet sound of her body being obscenely ravaged filled their ears.

Then he bit her.

Not hard. Not cruelly. His canines extended just enough to sink into the flesh where her neck met her shoulder, right at the place where instinct screamed and trust made her melt.

The pain was barely there, more like pressure followed by a dizzying, radiant burst of pleasure that licked through every nerve ending of her body. Her breath caught in her throat. Her thighs clenched instinctively. A moan escaped her lips before she could stop it, digging her fingers into his back as her body tightened hard and rhythmically on his cock. The feeling of her pulsing heat dragging him deeper and deeper like heartbeats, and the taste of her marked flesh against his mouth, was overwhelming. He thrusted one last time inside her and followed her climax, pouring his hot, thick load deep inside her in pulsing waves. The sensation of her inner walls milking him, coaxing out every last drop of his seed, sent him into a frenzy of post-orgasmic bliss.

He stayed there, buried as far as he could go inside her, with his softening cock plugging all his sperm within her body. His mouth kept latched onto her neck like he was branding her with something more than teeth.  

With a gentle lift, he carefully extracted his cock from her still-clenching heat, and a small river of seed followed suit. He watched, captivated, as it copiously dribbled down her thighs. His body still trembled with aftershocks, but his voice was a low, satisfied growl.

“You wear me now,” he mumbled, flicking his tongue out to taste the spot on her neck once more. “No one will come near you. Not with this on you.”

She let out a breathless laugh, resting her cheek against the broad expanse of his chest. “No one, hm?” she murmured, tracing her fingers idly along the edge of his collarbone. “Are you referring to your kind?”

The muscles beneath her shifted. His grip around her waist clenched just enough to make her gasp softly, and a hiss escaped through his teeth, sharp and instinctive.

“No one.” His voice left no room for ambiguity.

She tilted her head to look at him, eyes still heavy-lidded with afterglow, but her tone had a teasing lilt. “So mating season made you more possessive.”

His eyes flicked to hers, and something flashed in them. Acknowledgment, maybe, or the faintest trace of guilt. He didn’t deny it. Couldn’t. Not when every part of him was still vibrating with the primal satisfaction of claiming her, of feeling her body still warm and pliant against him, filled with him, marked by him.

“But you understand I have to socialize in my world, don’t you?” she added, softer now, one hand reaching up to brush back his damp hair from his brow.

He tensed again. Subtly, but she felt it. Something primal in him bristled at the thought, the very idea of her walking around among others, vulnerable in a place where he couldn’t always be with her.

But he also knew. Knew she wasn’t his to keep in some cave or tidepool. Knew that what they shared only worked because it was chosen, not forced.

He drew in a breath, slow and deliberate, and pressed his forehead to hers. His voice, when it came, was roughened by restraint. “I know. I don’t like it... but I know.”

She smiled then, warm and open, and he focused on that. On her scent clinging to his skin. On the mark, pulsing gently at her neck. On the heat of her body, still pressed to him.

----

He was perched semi-upright against the cave wall, half-sitting, half-reclining with her settled between his limbs. Her back was pressed to his chest, and his arms and tendrils draped around her like he was still afraid she might drift away. The blanket she’d pulled from her backpack was now wrapped loosely around them. His limbs hadn’t ceased their attention; even in the calm, they continued exploring, fondling lazily her thighs, trailing over her hips, giving little affectionate tugs with the suction cups that made her shiver from time to time.

Twilight had crept in almost unnoticed. The deeper parts of the cave were cloaked in shadow now, and the ocean outside was a distant hush of sound against the stone.

“The tide will start rising in a couple of hours,” she murmured, finding his fingers with her own and squeezing gently. “I already can��t see a thing… you’ll probably have to guide me out or I’ll land on my ass four times before reaching the exit.” she tried to joke.

He tensed behind her, and she could feel it, not just in the way his chest rose with a sharp breath, but in the shift of the limbs tensed around her. Her words, so casually spoken, reminded him of something he hadn’t wanted to think about. That eventually… she would leave. That their perfect little moment, suspended in warmth and skin and breath, would end.

A low sigh escaped his lips, and with a subtle flick of his wrist, six soft blue orbs rose into the air, like glowing will-o’-the-wisps. They hovered above and around them, casting a gentle illumination over the cave walls, their skin, and their closeness.

She gasped, and her eyes widened at the soft lights flickering to life. “You didn’t tell me you could do that.”

“You never asked,” he said with dry amusement.

She gave him a look. “You can do more magic, then?”

He shook his head slightly. “No. We all can- more or less. It’s not magic. It’s a hunting trick for the depths. To lure prey.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, still marveling.

“And dangerous,” he countered softly.

She rolled her eyes, then turned her face up slightly to press her cheek to his jaw. “Doesn’t make it less beautiful.”

He hummed, low in his throat. One of his limbs slid lazily along her leg beneath the blanket, his suction cups giving a gentle tug against her skin like he couldn’t bear to let her forget him, not even for a second. “Dangerous things are often the most captivating,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to her shoulder where his mark now pulsed faintly. “You proved that.” She tilted her head back slightly to glance up at him, and despite the low light, she caught the glimmer in his eyes, not just desire this time, but something warmer.

The orbs pulsed softly, casting shadows along the walls, and the tide sang its distant lullaby. The real world was creeping back in, but for a moment longer, they stayed in their own.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @civilbucky @thatesqcrush @lonelyghosts-stuff @x-press-it @the-voice-beckons-below @angelilacsworld @dollface-xoxo @mcira @lazyneonrabbitt @vxllys @namjoohnie @sebastians-love @misspendragonsworld @thewriters64 @escapefromrealitylol @hi172826 @wintrsoldrluvr @reddesires @ruexj283 @buckvoidsyy @littlesuniee @kimberly-stocks @pandaxnienke @ladypncl @homiesexuallaj @kulteule @awesompawsum @killerwendigo @princessgriffin1998@helen-2003 @nynxtea @alagalaska @maryevm @kittieboo @otterlycanadian

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 49

Other parts Here

(Divus is a Selkie and- as a Selkie- he has a diet of primarily fish and other small animals he can catch. Where he is surprisingly fast out of the water, he is fast enough to outswim some of the more agile Merfolk in the water. He is much larger in his Seal form and he is stronger as a Seal as well. Where typical Seals are rather neglectful parents, Selkies are infamously known for their obsessive hovering and extremely protective behavior over their Pups. When a Selkie decides a Pup is theirs- even if it is not a Selkie Pup by species- they become overtly hostile towards anyone who upsets or unsettles their Pups. Divus is the ideal model of Selkie behavior.)

Warnings; yandere, monster TWST AU, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, protective behavior, foolish behavior, clumsiness, unintentional shoving, creepy behavior, unwanted photos, seal daddy gets angry, potion hijinks, rainbow colors, fortune and misfortune, business savvy Cecaelia, Cecaelia, Sphinx, Hellcat, Satyr, Faun, Selkies, Unicorn,

~~~~~~~~

You sat looking out the window in your History class, feeling a little more than lost. It had been around two weeks since you really had the chance to attend any of your classes. Between the near Overblot, your sudden illness, and this increased influx of Ursus Minor around you, you were happy to just be back on a semi-normal schedule.

Vil and Rook went back to Pomefiore at the end of the second week of invading your dorm, Eric choosing to stay in Ramshackle for a bit longer. The younger Harpy still stopped by to visit- especially for research and socialization- as well as taking Grim out for what you could only assume was flight training. Eric was keen to remain out of view of the many other students that attended Night Raven College, insisting that he didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to Vil. Though their relationship as parent and child was obvious to you, it was mostly unknown to other students and Vil wanted to keep it that way.

Riddle and other Heartslabyul students had gone back to their dorms- with Riddle returning for research purposes, like Vil- as they were no longer your guards for the week. It was a little sad to you, as Ace and Deuce were great videogame buddies, but you were also happy there were less beasts in your dorm. Thankfully, Trey still stopped by to cook with you on any given day and learn about what you could create with your many new appliances. The presence of the Kelpie was a soothing one as he picked up concepts quickly and could use his own knowledge to help you in the kitchen.

Alistair was still in Ramshackle given he was still deeply affected by his Overblot despite how well he was healing. Similarly, the three visiting Shinigami were also stationed in the older dorm building. You understood why they were still in your dorm, but that didn't mean that you had to like sharing the dorm with the group. Beyond just the several extras, the professors seemed to switch out who spent the night in your dorm. They likely did it to keep an eye on those who were not typically present and ensure you were still comfortable.

At least you had time to just exist even while you were in classes. The ever present subject of guards was to be addressed in the afternoon after classes, but you figured there were two possible choices. Scarabia or Octavinelle. You figured Pomefiore would be moved further back given the fact Vil and Rook had been around you for a week and a half. They needed to be in their own dorm for a bit as they were still the leaders of that dorm, so you figured the two dorms remaining were the two who were not as aggressive about your attention.

Even among your constant balancing act of keeping everyone calm, Scarabia and Octavinelle had been the least problematic. Azul had been a fantastic protector and aide when it came to the Spelldrive debacle. Kalim was clueless, but a sweetheart and seemed to actually want to be around you as best he could. Beyond the two of them, their respective Vice-Housewardens were also helpful when it came to keeping their Housewardens under control.

"Professor Trein, why were Humans considered pets? They were sentient, right?"

A student spoke up from across the room, one of the many first-years that you didn't know the name of. He was- at first glance- a cat man of some kind, though the particulars of his species were lost on you. He seemed keen to avoid looking at you even as he asked his question.

"Humans are magicless. Because of this lack of magic, many were considered to be lacking in agency and the ability to protect themselves despite their sentience. While I'm sure some of you may believe Humans are lesser due to their lack of magic, I can firmly assert that Humans are not- and should never be treated as- pets."

You couldn't help the displeased feeling writhing in your gut as several students glanced your way before quickly averting their gaze. Despite how you kept yourself quiet, Grim was not keen to do the same.

"My mama is not a pet!"

Grim's clear displeasure was only emphasized by the way his tail lashed angrily and how he hissed at anyone that glanced at you. He only calmed down when you rest your hand on his head, listening to the way he purred to you happily. Even if the others treated you like a pet or a fancy decoration, at least Grim would never see you in that light.

"You are correct, (Y/n) is not a pet. Despite the way Humans were treated as lesser, many Human centered cultures neared collapse upon the extinction of Humans. From caretakers, to emotional regulators, Humans served a much higher purpose than simply being pets. Many species are still mourning the loss of Humanity and- thanks to our own resident Human (Y/n)- countless disputed theories about Humans have been lain to rest. Our understanding of Humanity expands every day. It would be wise to keep in mind that theories do not always equal truth."

Trein returned to writing more information from the book in front of him, but you were keenly aware of the many looks you got. Though you figured most of those stares were not hostile in nature, you were not so foolish as to think everyone was friendly in the way they looked at you. Despite the consensus around Humans, you knew from experience that not everyone believed Humans should have the right to choose or even live among others.

~•§•~

You stretched out, sighing softly from the sensation as you relaxed in your potions class. This class was, thankfully, inside of the Greenhouse, and Divus was quite content to allow you to pair up with the usual Goat duo. Deuce was barely paying attention as he added the various ingredients to what was supposed to be a simple color changing potion. He was far too busy chatting with you and trying to help you catch up on your notes instead of following the potion instructions.

Ace was grabbing various ingredients from deeper in the greenhouse with Grim as you looked over Deuce's- admittedly messy- notes. Luckily, you hadn't missed too much based on the limited notes that Deuce had. He tossed in another cut up herb without looking, the potion turning a gentle pink with a rather sweet smell.

While you were examining the swirling potion that sparkled in the dappled light of the Greenhouse, Ace came running back with Grim. His foot caught on the uneven ground beneath him and sent him sprawling to the ground, a few of the ingredients he was holding splashing into the Cauldron as he slid into it. The rough hit from Ace sent the cauldron tipping and spilling over the edge towards you. Deuce tried to reach out to pull you back, but only managed to push you forward into the tilted cauldron.

With a loud yelp you tumbled into the large cauldron, feeling the potion splash at your skin. What was once a bright pink potion was now an intense violet that tingled against your skin as you fell into the spilling cauldron. An intense and almost painful tingling overcame you as you curled up, trying to stay calm.

~~

"What is going on over here?"

The deep growl of Divus sounded out as the displeased Selkie came over immediately to check on what may have taken place. Ace and Deuce didn't know how to respond to the Selkie, not wanting to get in trouble despite what took place seconds prior. Grim, however, did not care about getting in trouble, he was concerned for you.

"Water-dog, help! Mama fell in!"

The frantic cries of the Kit made Divus tense in fury as he quickly reached in to pull his precious Pup out of the tilted cauldron. His fingers brushed against the edge of a Uniform's fabric, gripping it and yanking back to pull the soft Human from the violet potion. What emerged from that potion was not Human.

Shivering, and clearly not Human anymore, was a rather shell-shocked looking Seal wrapped loosely in a student uniform. The Seal was about the same length as the Human's height and seemed displeased to be hanging by their tail. That Seal in question turned its head to look at itself before letting out a loud and piercing shriek.

Divus almost dropped you as you wiggled and struggled in his grasp, unsure of how you wound up looking like a Seal. Your repeated and stressed barks broke through the surprise the others felt as Divus quickly set you down. Even on flat ground, you struggled to move, trying and failing to use legs you didn't have anymore as your uniform fell from your streamlined body.

Based on your lighter colored -and partially patterned- fur, you were likely a similar seal to Divus. There was an intense iridescence to the spots that made the patterning a lovely rainbow coloring compared to the almost clear fur on the rest of your body. Where you wanted to question the two idiot Goats about what it was they did to you, only angry sounding barks and groans got through as you tried to snap at them. You growled at the onlookers as Divus pulled his coat tightly around himself, the fur seeming to consume his figure and cover him entirely. He moved next to you as his full seal form took shape within the fur, laying by your side. the large Seal head of Divus turned towards you as a low rumbling sound met your ears.

"Take a breath, Puppy. It's okay."

"It's not okay! I'm a Seal! How did I even get turned into a Seal?! Nothing about this is okay!"

"Shh..."

The larger Seal rest his head on top of your own, rumbling out a purring sound that somewhat calmed your frantic heart. Divus was a much larger Seal than you and his low voice was surprisingly soothing to you. Acting on instinct, you found yourself using your front flippers to push under the larger flipper of Divus, whining out a gurgling noise of discontent. He allowed you to burrow beneath his side and nuzzled your cheek with another low vocalization.

"I doubt those two Pups even realized what was actually supposed to go in this potion. It seems they created a temporary transformation potion that resulted in you becoming a Selkie, like myself. I can help you shed your fur so you can still move around as your Human self, but I am uncertain how long the potion will last. It is only temporary, however."

"I demand to know what is going on! (Y/n)'s collar pinged us, where is she?"

The Selkie gave you a long sniff, his nose nuzzling through your fur as he snorted. While he continued to inspect your fur, the sound of many footsteps met your ears making you look up with a whine as a group approached. The group seemed to be comprised of Housewardens and their accompanying Vice-Housewardens as they all rushed into the Greenhouse. Riddle was the first to voice his distress.

Ace and Deuce both looked exceedingly sheepish as their ears angled back before they silently pointed at you and Divus. Riddle seemed at a loss for words when he saw you glaring at him from the eyes of a Seal. It seemed like the Unicorn and the other Housewardens were at a loss as to what they should say or do.

"Dumb Cards and Shovel pushed Mama into the potion we were making and she turned into a water-dog!"

You grumbled in an attempt to correct Grim and tell him you were technically a Seal, but the sound came out as a series of barks and huffs. That was all Riddle needed to hear as he turned to face Ace and Deuce, his golden hooves slamming against the cobblestone of the Greenhouse flooring. Red seemed to take over his face as he snorted loudly in anger, head tilting down to point his horn threateningly at the two Goats.

"You pushed her into it!? What if it was a dangerous potion? WHAT IF SHE GOT HURT!? OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!"

Ace let out a distressed baaing sound as the metal collar clamped around his neck, Deuce suffering the same fate. You were still trying to figure out how to use your flippers when Divus moved next to you. As he slowly stood, your fur seemed to melt off of your body, loosening and and falling away in one uniform coat.

Despite the freedom from your flippers, you were very aware of the fact that your clothes had fallen off while you were a Seal. Part of you questioned why Divus' clothes seemed to meld into his being when he transformed, but you figured it had something to do with his magic abilities or the specific clothes he wore. Your discomfort was more than obvious as you scrambled to pull the fur you now wore close to your body to hide your exposed skin.

Divus picked up on the problem quickly and turned to face the curious students that were staring at you. You noticed more than a few phones were out and you felt your entire body burn in embarrassment. It was clear that Divus noticed it too.

Within seconds, phones were flying out of the other student's hands and into the Selkie's waiting palm. It almost seemed like the offending students were about to complain about their phones before they got one look at his serious expression and thought better of it. He was fuming in anger.

"Detention. All of you. Feel lucky we are not in the Queendom. You mongrels know that the price for upsetting a Human and making them even slightly uncomfortable is several years of prison time. I know several of you misbehaved whelps are from the Queendom and answer to her laws. Don't think for a moment I won't report this harassment."

That seemed to be enough to make the students back down as they weren't keen to challenge the Selkie that growled at them. You frowned as you watched all of them try and fail to hide their interest as you held your newly-formed fur close to your body. As Divus turned back to you, he waved his riding-crop above your figure. That pale gemstone hanging next to the red collar on the hilt glowed and you felt a familiar ensemble cover you beneath the fur. The clothing now adorning you was a complimentary outfit to the one that Professor Divus wore.

Your top was a mix of black and white fabric with red accents on the buttons and trim of the clothing. It was one of the many outfits Vil had helped tailor to your body when they first began crafting clothing for you to wear outside of your uniform. Even with how similar you looked to Divus, there was still that ever present and hungry look on the others.

Truth was, you had been somewhat hoping that this newfound form- temporary though it may be- would help dampen or completely smother your aura. Clearly that was not the case as the others just seemed more interested in you now that you were technically a monster like them. Of course it wouldn't be that easy or simple, otherwise the other Humans would have done it before their extinction.

The 'how' of the matter was obvious as the potion had clearly changed effects with whatever it was that Ace had tossed into the cauldron paired with Deuce's less than careful additions. Why you became a Selkie of all things was lost on you, but perhaps some of Divus' fur had gotten into the cauldron itself and changed the potion. Either way, you were stuck like this until it wore off.

"Here, Puppy," Divus started, sliding what looked like a silver bracelet onto your wrist, "because this change is only temporary, it would be best to give you something to allow you to take on your new Seal form without the aid of a magical being. That being said, do be careful when swimming that you can get somewhere safe if the potion begins to wear off. I am happy to teach you what I know about the differences between your forms."

The bracelet itself was a simple design that had a small clear crystal charm on it where you assumed the magic charging it was held. Part of you was extremely thankful that the Selkie was skilled enough to enchant something like this at a moments notice. Another part of you was elated that he chose to gift you a bracelet instead of another adornment on your collar, the weight already present enough on your neck.

"Perhaps now would be the ideal time for me to offer Octavinelle's esteemed services."

Azul spoke up, a coy grin playing at the corners of his mouth. This was an ideal opportunity to put Octavinelle in a favorable light with you and let you explore the extent of this temporary look into life as a Selkie. If you wanted to explore a more oceanic realm with this new temporary form of yours, what safer place could you be than the Octavinelle dorm?

You were going to be selecting a new round of guards after this class anyway, why not offer his services? He was also keenly aware of your interest in trying out a culinary class where you could share your cooking skills with others. There was no better place to test these new cooks than in the Mostro Lounge where he could only stand to benefit from your presence.

Beyond just the culinary world, your presence alone was sure to draw in countless students. Something about your new Selkie fur made it seem like there were rainbows trapped beneath the varied light of the Greenhouse. Perhaps a more intense light could really bring out that color in your fur. Truly, it was a beautiful coat and Azul already knew the disgustingly high price such a fine quality Selkie coat could sell for.

He would never sell it though.

No, such a treasure- if it lasted beyond the temporary nature of your time as a Selkie- was to be cherished and kept safe. Selkie fur already sold for a high price, the fur of a Human grown like a Selkie's fur? Priceless.

Azul sincerely hoped your fur would last and simply become an actual coat you could keep and wear. He could scarcely imagine how soft it felt.

"What game are you playing at, whelp?"

"No game, Professor Divus, you wound me! I simply see that I- and the rest of my dorm- happen to be in a position to render aid. Ocean water to swim in and remain safe, a kitchen that can be used for culinary classes, clientele that would happily taste-test, and a new set of guards. Why, to think I would offer so much and ask only to be selected as guards in return. Truly, my desire to help poor unfortunate souls knows no bounds! I won't even make her sign a deal with me."

Divus frowned at Azul before looking back at you for confirmation. Despite Azul's reputation of being sleazy and underhanded, you did trust him to protect you. He shielded you from Erikír's Overblot and had a good point about what you stood to gain from the loose deal he was offering. Besides, you did want to see what this new Seal form could do for you, even if it was temporary.

"I guess we don't need to have a meeting about it after class if we settle on it now... Fine. My guards for this week shall be Octavinelle."

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Separate Yandere Malleus (Hubby), Rook (Hubby), Leona (Lazy), Jamil (Babygirl), Azul (Babygirl), Jade (Menace), Floyd (Menace) and Sebek x Female!Tanjiro Reader SFW and NSFW please?

She’s kind, helpful and supportive, always willing to help others and she doesn’t expect anything in return? How cute (Naive), and after getting a taste of her kindness and care, he’s not going to let her go (And is now very territorial/protective of his soon-to-be wife/wifey)

Why can I see Floyd saying ‘Wifey’? (Rook would just make poems upon poems about how much he loves calling her his ‘Darling’ or ‘Wife’ and would violently tremble in joy if she just looks at him Top Tier Romantic/Stalker)

Sorry if that’s a lot, I’m a little knew to asking about Smut Requests (But I love my Twst Men so much, especially Malleus, Idia, Rook, Jamil and Azul, they just need hugs)

This is SMUT, and consensual, despite being Yandere.

Warnings: Yandere, Stockholm Syndrome(?), naive reader, creampie, breeding(?), unprotected sex, all characters are adults, sex with the intention of having children, slight dumbification, Malleus has 1 dick (sorry monsterfuckers), somnophilia in Malleus’s

Leona Kingscholar

You supported him even in his darkest moments, no matter if he was rude to you back. You were there, and the way you would take Cheka when he wasn’t feeling super great really had him appreciating you in a way that he never thought he could before. So, once you had graduated, he asked you if you would marry him.

Of course, this comes from a much darker place in him. He was never going to let you go, even if you refused him. Luckily for him, though, you were in tears as you accepted his proposal, happy to be marrying the love of your life. You were wed rather quickly, with it being a small ceremony, and it was the first time you had seen Leona cry because you just looked so beautiful walking down the aisle. That moment was one you would cherish forever. 

Now, your wedding night was a different story. With how hard he was thrusting up into you, making you see stars. You could feel his cock pounding your insides, and you were thanking every god in existence that you married this man. You were two orgasms in already, and you were approaching a third, while he still had his first to go.

“Look at you, my naive herbivore being fucked dumb.” Just hearing those words made you falter and stutter your movements, but it didn’t stop Leona. He was making you ride him through your orgasm, and you were so sensitive. He let out a groan as he came inside you, saying, “I’m not stopping until you are filled with my cubs, baby, so you better keep going.”

Azul Ashengrotto

He knew you were the one when he showed you his cecaelia form for the first time. Instead of being disgusted or even afraid, you used a gentle hand as you played with the tentacles that were pulling you closer and closer. Eventually, you found yourself face-to-face with the Housewarden, and you threw your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. He immediately reciprocated, and he laid claim to you that night.

Years later, you both were married, and he was a successful business owner. You were in the upper-middle class of the ocean, and you both were talking about starting a family. You were already his housewife, keeping the house clean because you both agreed on it (and because he didn’t want you going anywhere that he didn’t have control over). 

You weren’t about to complain, though, because he had you in the missionary position. It’s a bit basic, but fuck did it feel good. He was desperate; desperate to fill you up, desperate for you to feel pleasure, desperate to push himself to another climax despite the overstimulation. Your legs locked around him as he started releasing ropes of cum inside you, and you had the orgasm of your life.

“I love you, honey~” Your voice was strained after about two hours of moaning. He laid down next to you, and you laid your head on his chest. He started drawing patterns on your back, and he said I love you in return. You leaned up and gave him a kiss on the lips, and then trailed it down his chest… lower and lower, until round 2 was started.

Jade Leech

You were his the day you burst into Azul’s office and demanded that your friends be let go of their contracts. Hardly anybody would have that amount of confidence, and he found himself obsessed. He’s stalking you, he’s making sure his brother knows that you are his territory and his alone. You could always smell that he was there, as he didn’t know about your keen sense of smell. But, you didn’t mind it.

Years later, you both were married, and it was an interesting marriage. Your in-laws absolutely adored you, Floyd tolerated you, and Jade was still as obsessed with you as he was back in your NRC days. In fact, he wanted to give you a reason to stay forever, so he brought up the idea of having kids. You had many siblings back in your home world, which you never found a way back to, so it was understandable that you would want a big family yourself.

So, that’s how you got here, you being folded in half, your legs being pressed to your shoulders as he pounded you into oblivion. For the past 4 hours, you have been in every conceivable position you can think of, and this was going to be your final one. If you wanted a big family, that is exactly what you were going to get.

“Darling, how many kids do you want? Do you have an exact number? Or am I going to fuck you and keep you full of children until you say that you don’t want anymore?” Just the thought of having so many kids made you orgasm. You realized that you wanted to be with this man for the rest of your life, and you wanted to be surrounded by a family that the both of you created, and you were definitely going to enjoy the process to achieve your newfound dream.

Floyd Leech

He claimed you as his also the day you walked into Azul’s office, as no one ever had the courage, bravery, or stupidity to do it. When he went to squeeze you, you wound back enough to headbutt him, making him drop you. From that point on, you had become his new obsession. You were the only one who could beat him in a fight, so it was kind of obvious that this would happen.

As much as you Floyd simps would probably want to be married to him, he’s just not that big on marriage. He’s not that big on commitment in general. However, he knows that he’s committed to you because he wants you to be committed to him. Plus, any thoughts against marriage flew out the window when he saw you stretching and yawning.

Hours later, your neck was covered in bite marks, some a bit bloody, but he just licked it all away as his cock was buried inside your cunt. He had cum inside you about 2 times by now, and your muscles were sore from being contorted into a multitude of different positions. He had a newfound need to make you his little wifey who was stuffed with his kids 24/7.

It wasn’t until there was a bit of a bulge in your stomach from all the cum he had released when he pulled out of you. You were on the verge of unconsciousness, but you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you close. His body was warm, the final lull to sleep that you needed. It was a rare but sentimental Floyd, where he watched you, in such a vulnerable state… marriage is the best option to make sure you are his.

Jamil Viper

You were the first thing he could actually call ‘his’. He did not have to give you to Kalim, and he was never going to let that happen. In fact, during his overblot, he made his feelings known to you by keeping you at his side. However, you wanted your Jamil, not the one controlled and bound by the ink. After, in the infirmary, he asked if what you said still rang true, and that was where you had your first kiss.

Skip to years later, and you both were married. He still works for the Al-Asim family, but you couldn’t ask for a better husband. He has told you about his hesitancy towards having children of his own, as they would most likely serve the Al-Asim family as well. You understood, but you still wanted to have children with him. He told you that you could have one child for now, and see where it went from there.

Round 1 started right then and there, in your kitchen. He bent you over the counter, railing you from behind. Before, whenever you both would have sex, he would use protection. This time, though, he went in raw, and it was the first time ever that you both truly felt each other, and damn did it feel euphoric. You couldn’t even think anymore.

Of course, this was not exactly a fitting place if you were going to conceive your first child. So, he picked you up into his arms and carried you to your shared bedroom once you had your first orgasm of the night. There were many more to come (get it?) and you were barely getting started. You will not be able to walk for two days, and you will be walking out with hickies… mostly in between your thighs.

Rook Hunt

When he first discovered you, he immediately started stalking you. However, he wrote you sonnets, limericks, and poetry of other sorts for your eyes and ears. He sang your praises, and to lastly win over your heart, he serenaded you properly, under your window. You told him to wait there, and you ran downstairs and glomped him, making out with him on the ground. If it weren’t for his desire to make your first time special, you would have probably conceived a child right then and there.

However, he did wait until marriage… which was less than a year after you graduated. He had a steady income, and he already had a cottage in the forest in the Shaftlands. He always had a fantasy of a big family in a cottage, being a hunter and having his beloved wife by his side as an equal in the home. He cherished you, making sure that he provided for you in every way you needed. You became a housewife, as you would like to be there to take care of your children.

Speaking of, not a single night has passed since your wedding night where you haven’t fucked like rabbits. Sure, you both were still young, but you had been talking about this since you both were in NRC. You felt like you were ready to take on the challenge of rabbits. So, every night, you were filled with his cum. You were claimed as his, with all the hickies all over your body, with the sinful stretch his cock always seemed to give you… it was heaven in Twisted Wonderland.

It did not come as a surprise that you fell pregnant merely a few weeks after your wedding. The news made your beloved hunter so excited. Now, you could never leave him for your world. You had children that tied you to him. During your pregnancy, he is a devoted lover. He makes sure all your needs are met, and that includes the needs that are in the bedroom.

Malleus Draconia

You were his first friend outside of his retainers. You showed him kindness, and you were not scared of him at all. That alone made his draconic instincts want to kidnap you and keep you all to himself. However, he was able to hold off just a little, and you came to him on your own. The rose you had presented him with remains preserved, even years later, as it is a token of your love for him. He was a bit delulu, but aren’t we all?

It was a big request to ask you to marry him, as you would become the queen of a great nation of mostly fae folk. However, you were up to the challenge, and the people loved you. However, there was great pressure for an heir. Again, you were up to the challenge, but you discussed it with your husband first. You both concluded on a large family, so that the children wouldn’t grow up isolated (and totally not because Malleus wanted to see you round over and over again).

That night, all the staff had been advised to vacate the corridor in which your shared chambers resided, as you were not able to quiet yourself. You went a total of 8 rounds, one of which you were passed out for, but gave him the ‘okay’ to fuck you through that brief nap. Any chance of walking was out of the question. You could barely lift your head, and you had to be tended to by maidservants for a week. Unfortunately, Malleus couldn’t tend to you himself, as being the King meant that he was busy.

The entire realm rejoiced at the news of your pregnancy, and you had the world’s best doctors at your disposal. Everyone was concerned about making sure that the heir survived to take the throne, but they were also a tad worried about them being half-fae and half-human, as it meant that their lifespan would be shorter than a typical fae’s. Neither you nor your husband cared, however, as you were just happy to start a new chapter of your lives together.

Sebek Zigvolt

His pride denied him the pleasure of accepting his feelings for you in the first place, and he instead wrote anonymous poems for you that he would leave at your desk. You had no idea who it could be, so when someone claimed it was them, Sebek shouted that it was he who wrote the poems and not the plagiarist. He looked like he was about to fight the poor unfortunate soul, but you placed a kiss on his cheek, telling him that you accepted his feelings and not the other person’s.

About the topic of marriage… he would prioritize being a knight first. However, when he sees a time in his career, he will definitely get married to you. He enjoyed that he was in Briar Valley often and he just needed to train new recruits, and he would return home to you cooking dinner. As for children, the topic would blurt out of his mouth as you voiced your sadness about being lonely. You loved the idea, and as irresponsible as it was, the way you looked at him with newfound dreams in your eyes, he carried you to the bedroom and started right away.

You had discovered that Sebek had a hidden breeding kink, and he loved seeing your face as he came inside you over and over. The husband you thought you knew was giving into the primal instincts deep within him, and you were loving it. His fangs had made their mark all over your neck and shoulders, claiming you despite the ring on your finger showing you were taken.

The Zigvolt family, as well as Lilia, Silver, and King Malleus, were all excited when you announced your pregnancy. However, only the two of you would know what sinful things took place for this to happen. Know that this is not your only child, even if you don’t actually have another one. He wants at least two, and he is willing to adopt.

[abbyfmc]

Yanderetober #2:

Yandere Kraken! x Sailor! Reader:

Myths of the sea, who isn't fascinated by them?

They have existed since human beings began to have the use of reason, all in order to prevent and warn sailors and naive people of the possible dangers of this part of the planet that has always been with us.

There have been stories about ghosts of drowned people trying to drag victims away; mermaids who hypnotized sailors or pirates, or mermen who hypnotized women and young girls in order to kill and eat them, or force them to be mermaids in order to reproduce and preserve the species; ghost pirate ships (or normal ships); monsters like the megalodon or the leviathan, and of course, the much-mentioned kraken.

The Kraken was a giant octopus or squid that lived in the depths of seas and oceans; and according to stories, it was responsible for several sinkings of ships, boats, cruise ships, submarines, canoes and even flooding of beaches, seaports, as well as coastal towns and cities if they were close enough to these places.

However, that was no impediment for a beautiful young woman like (T/n) to become a lover of the seas. Since she was a little girl she was passionate about everything that had to do with marine species, water currents and boats of ALL kinds. She trained and worked hard to become a very successful diver, as she became today, becoming one of the best.

On one of those days, she was out diving, exploring a bit when she was intercepted by a mythological being half human and half octopus, which she didn't see. When (Y/n) returned to the surface that being came out moments later without being noticed. She saw her take off her diving helmet on the boat, revealing her beautiful face and voice.

--'She's beautiful'-- he thought to himself.

From that moment on, he couldn't stop thinking about her, much less seeing her. He spied on her hidden behind some distant rocks while he was in his Cecaelia form, watching her clean the beach and port; explore the reefs, clean them and help the species that live there (which were mostly starfish, sponges, fish, small fish, crabs and turtles) and he admired seeing her passion and dedication to marine species.

He fell in love with her passion and dedication for the sea, her care for sea creatures, her beauty and kindness. He tried to get close to her, even tried to rehearse his words; but she always returned with those useless humans to the surface, without her even suspecting their existence.

So one day, fed up with not being able to have her, he decided to do something.

After collecting the best pearls and marine treasures for her, he thought about how to attract her since he knows that humans cannot live underwater, thinking about creating a spell to turn her into a beautiful mermaid and later, into his queen. He prepared the spell meticulously, and then went up to the surface where he found his beloved strolling on a boat. From what little he could see of the deck, it was decorated in an elegant and romantic way. In addition, his beloved (Y/n) was very pretty.

He was about to approach her, but then he saw a human man approaching him in a very lively manner and they began their date calmly. Both were enjoying the night, and the marine being could not bear the idea of ​​his beloved being with another; so he put his plan into action. He changed into his true form, and used its tentacles to split the ship in half with great force.

--Look out!-- He heard the other human male scream. The ship ended up sinking along with the one who was once (Y/n)'s boyfriend, who was dragged into the depths with that being, who gave her the spell through a kiss. She was understandably terrified and scared. She realized that she could see and hear perfectly well under the sea, and she also noticed the painful changes she was undergoing to be a mermaid.

--Who are you and what the hell are you?!-- She asked in the midst of all the pain as they stopped.

--I am someone who has watched and desired you for a long time. Someone who would not accept you staying away from me,-- the imposing kraken man replied, wrapping his arms around her in a hug while she suffered from pain due to the transformation.

--Let me go!-- She exclaimed, scared and angry, trying to separate herself as she felt her muscles, bones and arteries deform to join together in a mermaid tail.

--No way! You will be my queen! MINE!-- He shouted at her, angry at her refusal. She wanted to continue fighting, but she fainted in his arms.

Hours passed and she woke up in a kind of sunken shipwreck. It had half-open chests that revealed marine jewels such as gold, silver, pearls of all colors, copper and zinc. There were rings, simple stones, necklaces, earrings and a beautiful gold crown adorned with pearls. (Y/n), still horrified by her transformation from human to mermaid, was amazed by the beauty of the crown, which seemed to belong to a queen. She looked at it for a long time, and then someone spoke to her from outside the ship.

--It seems that someone has already woken up-- A male voice from outside said excitedly. --Good morning, my precious queen-- The kraken greeted her from outside, only its eye visible through the large hole in the ship's wall. She was frightened by her situation, as well as by the immense size of her kidnapper.

--You… who are you?-- She questioned fearfully, lying down.

--Oh, that's right; my name is Kai and I am the kraken ruler of all the seas. May I know yours?-- Kai showed up, pulling the mermaid out of the boat with the help of one of his tentacles without allowing her to free herself. --You are more beautiful than you already were-- She could only tremble in fear at this, because she could not imagine herself in the middle of this situation, at the hands of the kraken itself.

--I'm… (Y/n); what do you want from me?-- She asked fearfully.

--You, sweetie-- he smiled. --isn't it obvious?; I've been watching you for some time now--.

--But, for what?; My meat doesn't taste very good-- (Y/n) questioned, trying to excuse herself because she thought he was really going to eat her.

Kai just laughed for a while, which confused the mermaid. Kai calmed his laughter and then looked at her, bringing her a little closer to his face.

--Oh love, I don't plan on eating you or hurting you. I will make you my beloved queen, and we will take care of the seas and oceans together.-- Kai answered her with eyes full of loving obsession, accompanied by his raspy voice and a smile that was terrifying for poor (Y/n).

The terrified mermaid could only think about what awaited her in the future.

-The end.

[eldritchpotato]

Octopi and the Castaway's Cry

Getting tossed overboard in a powerful storm is a death sentence. Or it would have been if something beneath the waves had not come to your rescue. At a glance she’s beautiful, look a little closer and the horror becomes apparent. But she’s sweet beneath the surface, just as eager for company as you are. It gets lonely stranded on a tiny island.

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

Content Warning: tentacle sex, female reader, eating raw fish, survival situation.

There’s probably some irony in the fact you managed to cling to your phone throughout your dance with death.

Now the cracked and thoroughly waterlogged piece of junk acts as the closest thing you have to a mirror on this shithole of an island.

Two days, it’s been two days since the storm rocked you overboard. Two days since some kind of guardian angel pulled you to shore.

Your new home is a rickety assembly of sticks and palm leaves. It blocks the cold night air but hardly keeps you warm. Despite your efforts, fire isn’t something you’ve been able to replicate.

Food is your current dilemma. The freshwater from the small spring is the only reason you’ve made it this far.

You’ve walked the whole island several times, and the only animals you’ve seen are a few crabs but you’ve heard birds. Unfortunately, you have neither the equipment nor expertise to hunt either nor could you even cook them if you did.

All you’ve had to eat was a soggy granola bar and the meat of a sad-looking coconut.

You can only hope people are looking for you. Fortunately, the privacy of the island is perfect for the occasional breakdown.

You’re returning to your hut after drinking your fill of water, your feet slipping on the hot sand, when you spot it. Hair and pale skin in the shallows.

Your stomach twists into a knot as you squint against the glare of the sun to take in the woman in the water. Is she dead? Another tourist tossed overboard in the storm?

Running, you stumble through the sand before splashing through the water. The woman moves, her porcelain skin glowing under the sun, her matted dark hair a mess of seaweed.

“Hello?” you call hopefully, the water almost up to your knees as you get close.

She raises a hand in response, a controlled gesture that confirms she is both alive and not in the process of drowning. There's something odd about her, though you can’t put your finger on it. Only her shoulders are out of the water and she’s so pale, you don’t slow your awkward run through the water.

Because you’re searching her face for signs of any kind, you notice her eyes first. At first, you realize there is no iris; her eyes are entirely white. It's not until the water is too high and you're too out of breath to run that you realize she’s watching you with slitted horizontal pupils.

It's not until you’re too close that you realize that that's not possible, that something is wrong beyond a haggard woman lying in shallow water.

Red moves in the water around her as she pushes herself up. She’s covered in barnacles, her lips blue, and the claw of a crab pins the hair out of her face. But the final straw that makes you turn and run for shore is the mass of tentacles writhing beneath her. It is the way the forgery that is her mouth and nose open into the plates of a beak, her face splitting open like the bud of a flower to reveal the maw within, that makes you run like your life depends on it. As far as you know, it does.

You don’t sleep a wink that night, not with the beach so close to your hut. Not with that thing just through the trees. Not that you would have slept much anyway, you can’t sleep and shiver at the same time. But the sea monster is objectively something to freak out over far more.

A tentacled mermaid thing wearing a human face to disguise its beak. That's the best description you've managed to come up with.

But the more you mulled this thing over in your head the more you remembered the flash of red below you as the waves tossed you, the stabilization that you could almost attribute to something grabbing you. The guardian angel that gave you the strength to surface and make it to the island. Maybe it wasn't an angel, maybe it was… an octo-mermaid-squid-thing.

At some point, exhaustion must have taken you as you woke up the following morning to rain drenching you and your clothing that had just begun to dry. You scramble to gather your few belongings and try to tuck them away from the rain but the trees aren't thick enough to block out the rain. You quickly give up and begrudgingly heading inland to get some water. You only slip on the muddy ground twice but it's still enough to be covered in mud.

You're on the verge of tears by the time you get back. Exhausted, cold, hungry, and somehow already thirsty again. Day three on this God-forsaken island. Optimism is the last thing you are feeling.

You pause, a frown of confusion flickering across your features as you notice the two fish lying on a flat rock beside what’s left of your hut. Someone left you food. If only you could figure out how to start a fire.