#no frills twins

[teathattast]

They're mine

I cannot believe they're mine

Don't you know

It's in the way you move

[myaatwins]

the way that only girls blush at frill... she's like lesbian jesus

[eusoufunf]

Deus Abençoe a Internet.

😎

[pareidolla]

hi!! holds up hand. in a more ideal situation (interpret that how you wish, maybe liike in the leaving together ending?) who do you think would broken have the healthiest relationsip with? both other voices and vessels.

oh, what a fun little question! upon reread i realize you might've meant a romantic relationship but i wrote this with mostly friendships in mind. however, i literally adore every broken pairing so i suppose this could still be read either way ♡

might be a little unexpected, but i imagine for 1-on-1 settings that broken would be hanging out with cheated most of time. ironically, where broken's bitterness tends to be ignored, cheated is way more friendly than people give him credit for.

broken frequently laments he's never been listened to, but cheated actually does listen to him! when you choose to surrender in the arms race, the other voices are against it, but cheated says it's worth a shot, and he's never harsh when speaking to him like the others. out of everyone he'd probably understand why broken has completely given up, and that he has good intentions despite. i can only think he'd be upset if forced into the apotheosis route (blacktabbygames on my hands and knees, please please please-), but most of his rage would be directed at the princess for rigging the game than anything the voices did.

i imagine cheated probably gently urges them to hang out together if broken's up for it. they'd do little activites like cleaning the church together, board games, sitting quietly as the rain falls, going out on a little rowboat on the lake to do some fishing and accepting their bad luck when it inevitably capsizes. divorced dad energy as i've seen someone say.

oh! as a bonus, for my own voices, chichi always huddles broken into his coat or offers it whenever it gets crowded since he knows broken doesn't do well with being looked at + broken reminds him of his family (flinching) :3c

hmm, as for the other voices, i think broken would have a nicest friendship with smitten and paranoid but they'd tend to clash more. which isn't a bad thing! smitten would definitely go overboard trying to cheer broken up and make him feel a little uneasy, while broken would undoubtedly assert that they are not destined lovers on equal footing with the princess, but i think they would still enjoy each other's company despite their differences. guys hated for their swag (unapologetically killing tlq).

paranoid meanwhile i think of as an exasperated mother hen. he wouldn't be overtly friendly like smitten or cheated but the first to check him over for any harm. have you eaten today? did you shower? you're making gloomy expression again, what are you thinking about? we need to go shopping later, your clothes are all ragged- and other clucking. the two are always pushing and pulling against eachother but i think of para as his closest friend because of it. tough love, baby!

as for the vessels⸻

WOUNDED WILD. ITS WOUNDED WILD AND IT'S NOT EVEN CLOSE.

(they make so violent. congratulations brokewild for inventing heterophobia 🎉)

i sometimes see posts where opportunist is jealous of witch/thorn and i think we should give tower the same treatment. her weird ass should stay grumbling by her temple's window as she watches broken and his friend clumsily dance in the garden. literally the virgin vs chad meme with these two.

i like to think in an au where they're seperate from shifting quiet that beast-wild would struggle with her personhood, and perhaps try seeking forgiveness from a deity since she can't forgive herself. she meets broken and they become sad little kindred spirits found whispering excitedly in the backpew.

and last but not least damsel! dambroken are quite similar characters in the sense they're both highly subservient to their lovers to the point of figuratively becoming nothing, so i always think of their interactions as the "and so, they were both bottoms" meme.

i actually think they'd actually clash a bit upon meeting. damsel's heart would break seeing her husband in such a sad state (in her mind everyone is just collectively married), and broken would probably be a little offput by how submissive she is despite being a princess. he'd get flustered if she tried to help him cook or clean and send her away, and outside the door you can see her mind kicking into overdrive trying to figure out how she's expected to make him happy if she can't do anything.

and maybe finally they'd have a quiet bonding moment where they sit and talk about their time in the construct. killing your lover and allowing your lover kill you seriously would have messed them up, and sharing pain with another lessens it. atleast a little.

tl;dr i love them your honor

[softcryz]

Something is possessing me and I can't even draw lizards but I found this really cyan blue lizard during an expedition

and befriended it on accident again

Boy why are you so CYAN

[tracle0]

Happy storyteller saturday!! I'm super curious to know how the 'visions' in prophet story work? Is it something Theo has always had or did it become more frequent when he got older? How long do they last and how often does he get them?

Hi hi hi! Happy STS :D! Thank you for asking I am Excited about this!!!

Theo has always had visions; they come when he dreams, pretty much every night. They're usually attached to the memory of the place or people around him!

So when he goes on holiday somewhere - he starts dreaming the past and future of the location. By a lake? Stories of people drowning, or a lost child being found alive. Up a mountain? Ceremonial reunions, or the bitter chill on lonely nights that shepherds watched over. In a city? God, it can be so loud.

Specifically, the memories have to be strong. Hence why he tends to get more sad memories or predictions, events that impact groups. Floods, droughts, earthquakes, so on.

The only good part is that once a memory/prediction has been dreamt and predicted/recalled, it won't bother him again... unless it changes. So although he had to deal with it all growing up, his hometown is mostly exhausted of horrors to throw at him, and he gets quieter, sweeter, smaller dreams... when he's home.

(Spoilers: in-story, he's on the move constantly).

Time is distorted when he dreams, though - usually it clumps up together, so it feels like he was dreaming for maybe ten seconds when it was a full night. Sometimes it stretches out until it feels like years, but - you guessed it - it was a full night.

Sometimes, if the gods want, he'll have two dreams in one night. Then he wakes up halfway between and knows what is to come.

[cherrio-krispz]

GGGRRAHHHG shark ink having his own shop with dream and swap being potential delivery people for the sharkpeopl e thing that can’t go to shallow water

SHARK FARM has a entire farm for any other sharks that want to try a new variety of food or flavor instead of just little mindlessfish cross would be the first to try guarantee. Since they all aren’t technically sharks but instead just monsters what’s stopping them from eating new edible items LIKE BASICALLY THEY ALL COULD BE OMNIVORES IF THEY WANTED TO. Farm is allowing them to explore guys he’s the entire route of a new evolution upon these fuchgked s GGGRGRHAFG

MAYBE FRISK OR CORE FRISK OR CHARA WOULD BE INKS SUPPLIER OF RANDOM JUNK this has been floating in my MIND FOR SO LONG

demonstration doodle of FRMAMD TENDERING TO PLANTS very quick doodle no detail at all

AU is by @dreamsb0u btw hi bou :333 i have ideas

[harakawa-sumi]

TWINS💃

[teathattast]

Look at me look at me

Getting all emotional

Look at us look at us

Caught in a thunderstorm

[halloweenfrills]

Unboxed these girls before work. They're so pretty. 😻

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ adore me, mark your territory !!

ᝰ.ᐟ after having to endure locker room conversation since his blue lock days all the way up to his pro days, yukimiya realizes that if he wants to show you just how serious he is about his thoughts on his relationship with you, he needs to make his mark on you. ( fem!reader )

pairing kenyu yukimiya x reader word count 3.6k content contains corruption kink/innocence kink, loss of virginity (both you and yukki), first time, creampie, breeding kink, slightly manipulative!yukki, you two attended the same private catholic high school, mentions of purity culture, coercion, very naive reader, talks of marriage, dark(ish) content kinktober masterlist

To love someone is to know them. 

You love Kenyu Yukimiya with all your heart; you know his hopes and his dreams, his fears and the tiny voice in his head that serves to either goad or encourage him. The two of you grew up together, attending all the same Catholic private schools up ‘til he went pro fresh out of high school graduation, and you decided to attend a tiny, private all girls university. 

You know that he’s kind and funny, much more outgoing and adventurous than you. You know that he can be gentle, and that he chooses to always be gentle with you. You know that he loves you just as much as you love him. 

But while distance makes the heart grow fonder, perhaps it’s the distance that has caused this newfound unfamiliarity between the two of you.

“Kenny, I don’t… I don’t understand.” You’re lying down on your painfully small twin-sized mattress in your dorm room. Kenyu’s on top of you, his body hovering over your own. He gives you that familiar, comforting smile of his as he asks you gently (your Kenyu’s always so gentle with you), 

“We love each other, don’t we?” 

“Of course we do.” You say softly. Your arms are by your side, and you’re playing with the frills on the oversized comforter of your bed. Your whole entire room still screams girl. Yukimiya finds it endearing; he finds everything about you so damn endearing. Your floral quilts, and the stuffed animals he’s won for you from claw machines and unfairly rigged carnival games. Your fluffy comforter, and the way you always love to wear dresses, even when it’s just to attend a lecture. 

And your unwavering innocence. 

Everyone knows that Catholic private schools aren’t as pristine as the parents of the students like to claim it is, but you’re the only one who remained devout. The only one who genuinely stayed true to the lessons taught. You didn’t drink, you didn’t smoke, you didn’t sneak out. The only parties you attended were birthday parties chaperoned by a trusted adult and held in the early afternoon. You always followed the dress code and never tried to get away with folding the waistband of your school-issued skirt to make it shorter, like some of the other girls did. Hell, Kenyu had to literally ask your father for permission to date you before he asked you out. 

And while Kenyu’s always been on his best behavior, it’s not like he’s unaware of the world. He’s not naive like you. And that’s okay. One of you has to know enough to lead the other; Yukimiya’s more than happy that he’s the one taking on that role. 

The thing is, Kenyu truly does love you. It’s why he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t try to force you to go further than what you think you’re capable of, than what you think you’re allowed to go. He ignores the hard on he gets every time you two make out, the way your hips sometimes move on their own, grinding against him with no thought to strip out of your clothes and let him finish. You’ve been together since the first year of high school, and now you’re in college, and he’s playing professional soccer, and he loves you, and he still hasn’t even seen your pussy. Honestly, his closest friends tell him he must be a saint. 

But the talks in the locker room, the snide comments from his least favorite teammates, the jokes and the teasing and the mocking, condescending tones — gotta protect Yukki’s ears, can’t let him Mr. Private School hear this, as if he’d even know what we’re talking about; damn virgin — all of it is chipping away at his pacifist, mild-mannered demeanor, revealing the feral, greedy egoist that lies underneath. 

You had been so excited to hear your beloved boyfriend was flying down to your college town this weekend, just to see you! Your roommate’s out on a holiday with her parents, leaving the dorm room all to yourselves. In your cute mind, this just means more room for the two of you to hang out.

For Yukimiya, it means he has no more obstacles to get in the way of him fucking you for the first time. 

“And you know what two people who love each other do, right?” He’s still using the same pacifying, soothing tone he always uses when he’s trying to calm you down. When you skinned your knees and cried from the sting of the alcohol wipes used to clean the cuts, he had used this voice on you. When you cried at the airport because he was leaving the country to meet the team who paid an exorbitant amount to have him on their starting lineup, he had used this voice on you. Right now, you can’t understand why he’s using this voice on you. You’re not hurt; just confused. 

“Kenyu, wh-what are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about making love, [Name].” One large palm is rubbing up and down the smooth skin of your thigh. The movement causes the thin fabric of your sundress to rise up. Yukimiya’s never touched you down there before. You don’t know why his touch feels so good, but you do understand what he’s talking about now. 

“But Kenny—” Your voice is reduced to nothing more than a nervous whisper, almost as if you’re scared someone is listening in. “—we can’t. That’s for married couples.” 

Well, if it’s any consolation, Yukimiya’s always planned on marrying you. 

He kisses your forehead, his hand never relenting from its position on your thigh. Your dress remains lifted up at an angle on one side. He can see part of your cotton panties; plain and white. If he moves his fingers up a few more centimeters, he could tug at the waistband of them. 

“I know, sweetheart. But I’ve been thinking…” His hand travels from up your thigh to rest on your hip. The one side of your dress is now all the way up, and his thumb rests on the thin waistband of your panties, rubbing reassuring circles to get you to remain calm underneath him. “We’ll get married soon, anyway, right? I love you so much that I need an outlet to show you just how much I love you.” 

“Married? Soon?” Your eyes widen. You find yourself daydreaming about marrying Yukimiya, starting a family. Yukimiya’s smile stretches wide across his handsome face. His sweet girl, he knew you’d be putty in his hands after he mentioned that. 

“Of course.” He kisses you on your lips sweetly, his hand never leaving your hip. “And I want to give you all the love a husband has for his wife. Won’t you let me, [Name]?” 

Kenyu’s always been handsome. You have a collection of all his professional photoshoots, and you know that he has a bunch of fangirls from just his looks alone. It’s so unfair of him, really, to give you that imploring look of his. You can’t say no to Yukimiya, and you think you never want to.

And so you do let him. 

Kenyu’s quick. With the speed he normally reserves for on the field, Kenyu’s mouth meets your at the same time his other hand grips your neglected hip. Now both of his hands are bunching up the fabric of your dress, pulling the skirt up to reveal your simple, plain panties. 

“Mmph.” You moan into the kiss. This is a bit different than what you two normally engage in; somehow, everything feels a lot heavier, headier. You can’t seem to think straight. All you can focus on is chasing after his lips, matching his hungry pace. 

The heat radiating off the two of you is enough for Kenyu to separate from you momentarily. The lens of his glasses are fogged up, and he grins at you, satisfied at the progress you’re making, before taking his glasses off and setting them neatly on your nightstand. 

And then he’s back to kissing you passionately again. You’re lost in the pleasure of his kisses, unknowingly bucking your hips up, not knowing why your body is craving friction, for some attention, down there. Your hands reach up to grip the front of Kenyu’s shirt, tugging at him, trying to bring him closer. You’re getting desperate, and he finds it so cute. 

“Lift your arms up for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your lips, and your head’s too hazy for you to properly register his request. He repeats it, still as gentle as ever with you, and this time, you manage to comply. 

“Fuck.” You don’t hear Kenyu curse often; he says it’s impolite to do so in front of his girl. He breathes out the word, and you feel shy all of a sudden as his eyes roam over your body. He tossed your dress to the side unceremoniously, and because the dress itself had padding, you decided not to wear a bra. You’re laying on your bed, nothing to protect your modesty besides your cotton panties. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. The only girl I see.” He praises you, and you don’t feel too shy anymore. 

“K-Kenyu—” You look up at him, all doe-eyed and sweet. You’re pressing your thighs together, drawing his attention to the plush of your thighs, the way hiding in between your legs is your special place that only Kenyu will be allowed to see, to touch, to taste, to love. “What do we do now?” 

He leans down, whispering in your ear in his familiar, kind voice, “Now, you lay down, and let me show you how much I love you.” 

You love Kenyu so much, you think it should be impossible for your heart to have so much room for him. You know Kenyu must feel the same way, but never before has his love for you ever felt so overwhelming. Kenyu pries your thighs apart, forcing you to open your legs for him, but you didn’t know showering you in his love meant that he was going to take his fingers and rub against the mound in your underwear. 

“W-wait, Kenny!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs, but he’s too big, too strong. He blocks the movement, keeps you nice and spread for him. “I—” You don’t know what to tell him, and you don’t know how to explain why there’s a tiny puddle gathering in the thin fabric of your panties. Sometimes, you feel funny and this starts to happen, usually after a long makeout session with your boyfriend. 

“You’re so wet for me, [Name].” He almost sounds in awe, staring down at your covered pussy almost as if in a trance. The pace he’s using is rather slow; he’s content, for now, with just stroking his fingers up and down your covered slit, fascinated with the way he can watch you slowly drench through the cotton. The wet spot only continues to grow; he bets he can get his fingers damp with your arousal soon, and he wouldn’t even have to take your panties off to do so. “Do you always get this wet for me?” 

You want to cry, and you can even feel the tears welling up in your eyes. He looks up, instantly stopping his ministrations, his concern written all over his expression. “Hey, hey.” He shushes you, peppering kisses all over your face. He’s not stroking you anymore, but his large hand is cupping your pussy, the heat of his hand encasing your special place. You’re practically throbbing against him, your cunt aching and hungry for his touch. He just has to get you to open up for him, to understand. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re supposed to get wet right here for me, you know that?” 

You sniffle, unsure if he’s just placating you. “Really?”

“Really.” His smile is so gentle, his tone so soothing and reassuring. He’s back to grazing his knuckles across your cunt, enjoying the way the fabric keeps on getting damper. “It means your body is happy, and it lets me know that you love me as much as I love you.” 

His other starts to tug at your waistband, dragging down your panties until he’s pulling them right off. His breath catches in his throat as he looks down and stares at your pussy for the first time. Your folds are glistening, your little clit peeking out at him, begging for him to suck on, to rub against. 

“Cute.” He tells you, tracing a finger curiously against your slit, the tip of his index finger so close to entering your clenching, unbreached hole. “I’m going to make you feel really good now, okay, [Name]? Tell me, have you ever played with yourself down here?” 

“Wha-?” You’re confused, appropriately so. The boys and girls were separated during sex education, but you remember your teacher drilling it into your heads that under no circumstances should a young girl ever touch herself. You had been confused at the time, confused as to why anyone would ever. You’ve been taught that only your husband should ever touch you right there. But Yukimiya loves you, and he’s going to be your husband, and now you’re starting to think you know why girls may want to touch themselves. You’ve felt this heat in between your thighs before, this mysterious hunger for something, but now you’re feeling it tenfold. You shake your head, too choked up to speak. 

“No? Not even like this?” You don’t expect Kenyu to insert his finger. The intrusion is foreign, but not entirely unwelcome. Your walls instinctively clench around his digit, and he has to remind himself to breathe, to remain collected, to take things slow so you can enjoy yourself properly. “You’re clamping down on just one finger.” He breathes out, curling his finger, moving it against your walls. He brushes against a spongy spot inside of you, one that has you jerking up, a shocked, pleasured moan escaping from your parted lips. “That feel good?” He asks, before adding a second finger, both of them bumping against that same sweet spot. 

Your legs feel like jelly, and you nod weakly. It does feel good. Too good. So overwhelmingly good that a foreign, euphoric sensation is taking over you. You can’t seem to control your body, and you can’t stop the flow of cute, pleasured mewls flowing from your mouth, and you manage to scream out a warning to Yuki. “S-something is—” 

A clear stream of liquid spurts out of you, splashes onto him, soaks your cute comforter. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” Your walls are too sensitive now, but throughout the whole process, Yukimiya never stops thrusting his fingers in and out of your inexperienced cunt. His eyes are wide, but the gleam in them is sharp, hungry, calculating. “I didn’t even get a chance to mess with your cute little clit. You came just from penetration?” He finally removes his fingers, examining the way your juices are dripping off his digits. “You didn’t just cum, you squirted.”

You turn your head, trying to bury your face in a pillow so he can’t see the embarrassed and debauched expression on your face, but he takes his dry hand and forces you to continue looking up at him.

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart.” He coos, sucking at his fingers obscenely before releasing them from his mouth with a pop!. “It means you’re perfect and all ready for me.” 

Kenyu knows that his cock is the first cock you’ve ever seen, and he’ll make damn certain that it’s the only one you’ll be seeing for the rest of your life. There’s no frame of reference for you to use, but you don’t think that men should be so big. When he frees his dick, making a show of squeezing tightly at the base and pumping it, showing off to you, you swallow hard. 

He taps the head of his cock against your swollen, needy clit, teasing the both of you. He’s losing all sense of restraint, and even rubbing the underside of his cock against your glistening folds, trying to slick up his cock so it’ll be easier to glide into your soaked cunt, is enough to make him want to cum. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, sweetheart.” His voice sounds strained, the gentle tone hanging on by a thread. “We’ll be making love for the first time. Aren’t you excited?” 

You nod. Excited and nervous. His cock much larger than his fingers, and maybe he should have prepped you more, but you came so easily. He always knew you were perfect for him. Pleasure is so unknown to you, the tiniest taste of it is enough to take you out. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

He holds your hand and kisses you to distract you from the sting of his cock breaching your virgin cunt. You gasp into the kiss, pain registering in your mind first, but Yukimiya is quick to take your breath away, to swallow up any potential protests that might have come. He keeps on kissing you, his fingers intertwined with your own, and he’s pushing himself as deep as he can go. He only lets up from the kiss the second he’s buried to the hilt, and you greedily swallow up the oxygen you’ve been deprived of. 

The feeling of a hard cock inside of you is foreign, but your body clings to his length. Unlike his fingers, with its dexterous ministrations that had you keening and squirting when he brushed them against a special spot, his cock fills you up, stuffs you full. Your cunt is greedily sucking him in, and when he whispers that he’s going to really start moving now, it’s not just one spot that he’s hitting.

You’re not sure what’s happening to your body, but it feels like Yukimiya is wringing out pleasure from you from every angle inside of you. 

“Ah, fuck, you feel so good for me, sweetheart. Such a tight pussy, so wet, so warm.” The heat encasing his cock is nothing like he’s ever experienced before. The wet warmth of your pussy is so inviting, so intensely pleasurable, that Kenyu doesn’t think he’ll be able to last. Cumming so soon might be embarrassing, but it’s not. Not when it’s his sweet girl’s pussy that’s begging for his cum. 

You wail out his name, your legs reflexively encircling around his waist, locking him in, keeping him close to you as you cum again. This orgasm is practically ripped out from you, your cunt way too sensitive, the repeated battering of his cock drilling into your hole too much for your inexperienced mind and body to handle. 

“Kenyu, Kenyu, Kenyu!” When you say his name like that, it makes it hard for him to not immediately bust a load inside of you. Gone is the gentle expression from your boyfriend’s face; in its place is something feral, dark. 

When he pulls out, he sees your white cream coating his cock. When he thrusts back in, he hears the lewd squelch of your wet, overstuffed pussy. It’s enough to drive a man insane with lust.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He grunts out, and your head struggles to remain straight, to not loll to the side and let yourself be used. You look up at him, but your eyes are glassy and your mind seems to be in a far away place, so far gone, so fucked out. “We’re going to get married soon. So it’s okay if I get you pregnant right now, right?” His bare cock fucking your virgin pussy raw. He’s going crazy. “I’m gonna fill you up, get you all nice and bred for me. Make you my wife, make you a mommy.” 

The domestic daydream makes you tighten up around him, even though your body is too weak to cum again. That’s alright. He’ll just have to cum enough for the both of you. 

“Hang onto me, sweetheart.” And you do. Your legs are still wrapped around him, but you weakly raise your arms, holding him close to you. He starts pounding at your pussy, his unrivaled speed and strength turning you into mush. You have to dig your nails into the muscled skin of his back, feeling like you’re on the edge of a cliff, about to crash. 

“Fuck, I’m about to put a baby in you, love. My sweet girl, my sweet wife.” He kisses you, messy and sloppy, and he stills. The aggressive thrusts stop, and you realize why. 

There’s a new heat entering inside of you; hot spurts of his cum are pouring into you, and he only moves his hips a bit to plug you up further, to make sure none of his seed can trickle out of you. 

You’re about to lose consciousness, your brain fried from pleasure and exhaustion. All you do is weakly mumble out his name before the world goes black.

You think if this is what making love is, you love love.

“Holy shit, Yukki.” Isagi gapes at his shirtless teammate. 

Yukimiya glances up, about to pull his jersey over his head. “What?” 

“What the hell happened to you?” 

“Hm?” He asks, before turning to try to examine his back. Across the pale muscles are thin, red scratches, fading slightly from the time it’s been etched onto his skin by your nails. He smiles serenely, his mild-mannered attitude ever present. “Oh, this? My fiancee likes me close to her at all times.” 

[critterbitter]

The twins and their starters may have grown slightly taller, but their love of shenanigans have tripled, no, quadrupled in size.

On that note did you know Eelectrik has a glow animation?? Perfect nightlight eel. Absolute gold standard for creature. Click here for the masterlist!

Bonus shitpost under cut ft @birdsaretoddlers’s incredible take.

(plus a fanfic drabble that birds did while we were discussing in chat! Check out their funny writing @birdsaretoddlers) “Lam lam pentttt. Lam.”

“Language. I am not calling them that. This is a civil discussion about the capacity of a 284 Berkshire’s firebox, not a playground argument.”

“Lammm Pent.”

“If you possess my phone I will have to put you in time-out in your ball, and neither of us will like that.”

The argument over a literal online flame war was cut short by the door flying open, one of the hinges breaking off with the force and flying somewhere into the aether, never to be seen again. Or at least, not without a strong magnet.

Emmet stood there, proudly, holding his newly-evolved Eelektrik, his grin a mile wide. Ingo picked his heart up out of his femoral artery, where it had lodged itself, and gently removed Lampent from where she hid, hanging over his shoulder. Emmet stood there, eyes twinkling, clearly ready to perform the coveted Bit. Ingo opened his mouth, got halfway through a word, and his twin took the proffered delight of cutting him off.

“I am Emmet and I discovered something INCREDIBLE. INGO LOOK.”

Ingo looked, because what else was he going to do? He would allow his twin to complete his circus act, it was only proper and polite. Eelektrik trilled with delight. Emmet twirled like the best of Nimbasan runway models, clearly wrestling his eel, cooing platitudes to it as he writhed and squirmed to get it into position.

“Me beautiful slimy baby, my beloved pool noodle, my beeesstt conductor!~” Doing something that could generously be called ‘dislocating his shoulders’, Emmet managed to get his eel flipped up and around his neck. He flopped forwards, bonelessly, tipping his hat and giggling madly. He was grinning harder than normal. Ingo was a little scared.

“But now, Eelektrik can do MORE. OBSERVE.”

He threw his shoulders back, standing up as tall as he could, somehow not throwing himself ass-first onto the floor as the fifty pounds of eel he was currently deadlifting remained stationary over his neck. Emmet’s arms flew upwards and out, rocking back and forth in jazz hands. Eelektrik frilled its fans, made another happy little buzz and-

"Eelektrik boa."

“DRAGONS ALMIGHTY. THE EEL GLOWS.”

There it was, clear as day. Eelektrik flashed it’s spots in natural bioluminescence, blinking like a neon sign. Bright beautiful yellow and clearly charged, Emmet’s hair stood on end, pushing his hat an inch off his head. They blinked in a rhythmic, pulsing manner. It was almost hypnotizing to watch, in a way. Ingo snapped back to reality, realizing his mouth had dropped open and Lampent had ceased questing for his Pokedex. Recognizing Emmet was looking for a response, he threw his arm out in a thumbs-up so fast his arm hurt, snapping his suspender against his neck.

“Brrravo! Ten out of ten! Majestic eel scarf!” He praised, Emmet’s expression only growing further full of himself and his achievement, which was well deserved. Lampent echoed the sentiment, flashing back at Eelektrik in response.

Now that both Pokemon could glow, they’d never have a problem in the caves again!

[emuwarum]

hi. Guess what. Avenday’s got a twin sister now who is horrible and also colours reversed

[fanaticsnail]

Frills and Bundles

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,600+

Synopsis: Bound to your desk, you took to the task of testing out a new prototype of a dress Ivankov made for you. Not used to the frills and bundles, you become wrapped up in the feeling of it while your friend tries to halt his unhinged urges to do something about his pining.

Themes: Sabo x f!reader, 18+, NSFW, suggestive, Sabo is unhinged, Sabo is a little yandere, no smut - just fantasy, mutual pining, idiots in love, reader's birthday, fluff with an edge of spice beneath the surface.

Notes: Happy birthday @frillsinadress!! I hope you enjoy a small fic of Sabo longing and pining. May your day be glorious 🖤

Twin beady eyes gawked at you while sitting motionless atop your wooden desk. The shell on its back depicted the cross-hatched tattoo of your boss and leader of the revolutionary army. Your task for the day was to sit there and wait for the final report from Monkey D Dragon, and to organize a corresponding attack on the marines base with his direct orders as soon as he ordered them.

The full skirt attached to your hips gathered in heavy bunches in your lap, your chest rising and falling in strangled breaths beneath the constriction of the leathery corset Ivankov fashioned for you. Each element of the ruffled skirt weighed heavily on your hips regardless as to how you sat at your desk.

While the arrangement was beautiful, it was not at all practical while bound to the drawl of paperwork and snail-sitting. The reason you were dressed in this formal garb was specifically to train yourself how to act properly and daintily in order to infiltrate a gala, to gather intelligence for the revolutionary army in a reconnaissance mission within a small unit.

It was a bonus that you got to wear such a pretty arrangement on a day like today. Your birthday, to be exact.

While you never truly made a deal about yourself, never taking time off from your duties under Dragon to enjoy yourself, receiving the prototype from Ivankov did make you feel special in your own way. The extravagant array of frills and bundles waterfalling to the floor had the corners of your lips ticking up in a sweet smile.

Lost in your own world, you were yet to notice a presence leaning against the wooden post to your office door.

Head tilted, eyes examining, lips smiling, arms crossing, and foot tapping stood the flame emperor of the revolutionary army. Second in command under Dragon, your superior, who you answered to on occasion, and the man who recently became obsessed with you.

His obsession really seeped from the fact that you had only ever been kind and attentive to him: fetching his coat and hat when he left meetings, always dainty and poised regardless as to how well you were personally faring. From that brink came a spark within his chest that had him constantly feeling on edge. He was plagued with a lust that never seemed quenchable enough or satiated by his own pleasure while he fucked his fist to your fantasy.

Noticing your eyes left the two globes of the snail’s haunting and beady eyes to gawk down at your breasts hoisted in the corset, he felt morally obliged to do the same. As your hands traveled up to readjust them, you bunched the flesh in your hands and gave them a slight jiggle.

Sabo felt his mouth begin to water, salivating at the fantasy of picturing you palming them, while the other traveled beneath your skirts to give in to your need for release. Although all you were currently doing was toying and fussing with your seams, his mind had a way of running away with him when his eyes fell to you. Picturing all the thoughts he had of you pinching and fondling your naked breasts while he pistoned his cock, his mind for carried away as his gaze wandered lower.

His eyes stopped their mirage, hyper focussing on the fabrics bunched at your waist in an array of flowing frills. It was far too much material to get below the waist from the top. You would have to go from beneath to seek out that pretty pussy you've kept hidden from him.

Narrowing his gaze with a deep furrow of his brow, he concentrated on how much the material would prohibit such fun for you in an array of positions. The skirts almost seemed enough to hide another person beneath them.

Sabo could be that person beneath the frills and bundles for you.

Sabo wanted to be that person beneath the frills and bundles for you.

Sabo needed to dive beneath those skirts and consume your pleasure with his lips, tongue and teeth while his hands pried you apart and held you like that until you were clenching around him.

Shaking his head, he rid himself of those thoughts while gently coughing to alert you of his presence by the door.

“Sabo-!” you exclaimed, your hands frozen at their place fondling your breasts while shrouded in its corset. Face flushed, eyes wide, lips parting, and, in Sabo’s opinion, absolutely adorable: you had no idea how to react to being caught out squeezing at your breasts.

Gently smirking, he approached your station and removed his top-hat from his mop of tousled, blonde hair. Carding his digits through his locks, he sheepishly hung his head while his thighs brushed with your desk. Placing his hat down on your desk, he bit back his rising smirk and closed his eyes in humor.

“That-... Uh-...” He attempted to contain a chuckle from falling from his lips, “...New dress?” He continued to hold his eyes to the ground, peering at your fright through his peripherals.

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, finally releasing your breasts from your hands.

“One of Ivankov’s?” He rose his eyes to meet your gaze. While he feigned an air of innocence about him, that unhinged side wanted nothing than to see how much more he could fluster you. “I like it on you. A lot, actually.” He leaned his hip up to sit on your desk, gently tilting the snail aside to avoid its awakened gaze.

“I-It is one of Iva’s, yes,” you stutter, blinking rapidly while he hovers ever closer to you. “Thank you for saying so.” You gave him a soft giggle to shrug off your nerves, returning to your usual posture with a grin, “Caught me at an odd moment, I won't lie to you. I'm not used to being so constricted by ruffles, frills and bundles. Anything for the cause, right?”

Sabo chuckled alongside you as you spoke, shaking his head lightly while he took you in.

“I don't blame you,” he shrugged, leaning forward and punching a portion of the fabric between his gloved fingers, “It's rather surreal, seeing you all dressed up like this.” Using a swift motion, he slowly dragged you towards him by the nape of your neck.

Rising to your feet with his motions, you allowed yourself to be tugged up by the flame emperor and drawn closer towards him. Your lips tingle with anticipation, never truly knowing the intention he was envisioning while you rose to stand before him. Sabo had always been a little unhinged with his conversation, and you would reciprocate indulgently with his unhinged commentary every now and again for your own, personal benefit.

Now fully standing in front of him, he rose to his feet and maintained contact with you by his gloved hand while walking around the desk. Reaching forward with his unoccupied hand, he claimed yours and gently indicated for you to spin slowly with him as your partner. To the betterment of your abilities, you allowed yourself to be spun in place, skirts bunching and swaying to a soundless melody.

“So pretty,” Sabo commented on your display alongside your garment, “Such a pretty dress, for such a pretty girl.” He halted your dance, placing both hands on your waist as he slowly moved himself closer. “Any wishes for your birthday? Anything I could do to help you out while you're bound in chains to the desk?”

You giggle at his comment, gently tapping his cravat with the backs of your hands in a playful shove. Shaking your head, you smoothed the sides of his navy jacket and fixed his collar. While you craved so desperately to give into your desires and ask him to satisfy the plague of lust branded into your mind of him beneath your skirts and satisfying you while you worked, you chose to behave.

“I have all I need here, sir,” you nodded towards your desk, “And I'll be here until Dragon tells me otherwise.”

“I could hide beneath your desk?” Sabo suggested, gently thumbing at your hips and bringing his lips up to your jaw before pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek, “I have the whole day spare. I can be right here with you, and I won't make a peep.”

You shook your head at your friend, releasing his collar from your hands and gave him a playful shove.

“No distractions. I need to be at my desk until Dragon dismisses me for the day,” you nodded with a hint of melancholy to your tone, “The cause comes before all else, including pretty blondes hiding beneath my desk. Thank you for your suggestion, though. I do appreciate the offer.”

“Even on your birthday?” he suggested with a soft pout, “You're more dedicated than most of us here. I promise, as soon as you get off and away from your desk, as your friend: I will give you a birthday you won't easily forget.”

You shook your head, gently parting Sabo on the chest and returning to sit back at your desk.

“Thank you, Sabo,” you smile up at the man by your side, “You're a good friend. I'm looking forward to it.”

Giving you one last smile, he reached down and claimed your hand in his. Slowly dragging it up to his lips, he maintained eye contact while he pressed a kiss tentatively on the top of your knuckles. While the action in and of itself was sweet, the hidden promise dancing behind his eyes was raw and feral.

He knew exactly how he was going to make your day unforgettable. Each element of his date was meticulously planned and laid before him. The cuisine you favored, the sweets you preferred, a menu to sate your appetite for food, followed by the absolute cure to quench the thirst gathering in the thick, raw, primal tension rising between you.

For now, he would be satisfied by peering up at you though his blonde eyelashes, while he pictured all the ways he was going to carve your day into your memory. Confessing his love for you, expressing how devoted he was to you, and demonstrating that declaration by unraveling you in more ways you could ever perceive by every part of him he'd make available to you.

Sabo would confess.

All he hopes if that you would feel the same, and allow him to explore that with you.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

[naffeclipse]

Sand and Sea

Reader x Orca!Eclipse

Commission Info

I have the pleasure of being commissioned by @missdreamyhead to write a fluffy and sweet fic for @tubbyartz's birthday! Happy birthday! I hope you have a lovely day! Enjoy a little slice of Orca!Eclipse and the reader in a tropical setting and spending time together in the water! <3

———

Eclipse meant what he said: he would hunt you down to the ends of the earth. There is nowhere you can go where he can’t find you, reach you and draw you back into the water into his sea salt embrace. 

You find yourself rather content with such an arrangement. Leaving the Arctic wasn’t easy, not with how long you knew he would have to wait to find you again, but you sit on a warm, white sand beach. The ocean softly laps up against the land, eager to touch your toes and drench your ankles. 

Where is he? Eclipse is not one to keep you waiting or to stay away from you. He couldn’t hardly keep his hands off of you when he did rediscover you again standing waist-deep in the shallows and eagerly snatching you up to admire you once more. It had only been a few weeks, but he greedily devoured you with his eyes as if he were a man who had been shipwrecked without food for days.

You hum and tap on your journal. There are a few interesting species growing on this island, especially of the fungal kind. You’ve kept yourself busy searching for mushrooms along the decaying wood. The rich moisture and the fallen trees lend to a beautiful crop of fairy inkcap mushrooms and oyster mushrooms. 

Beyond the edges of your journal, the waves splash and toss further from the island, overturning softly with white crests and deep, aquamarine hues. The air is blissfully warm as it heats your skin. The sun shines brightly upon the pale grains of sand. You wiggle your feet a little deeper into the beach just to feel the ground shift and heat the top of your feet. 

You couldn’t have gone farther from the frozen Arctic tundra if you tried. Eclipse doesn’t seem to care that these waters are not of his home—so long as he has you close by. 

You feared for a time that these warm waters would be uncomfortable for him, so unlike the icy, gray wafts of his cold homeland. He reportedly told you that he is none too affected by the change save for getting used to the prey that he must snatch up around the shores of the island. The fish are not as tasty as seals, but he says it means little to him now that he has you.

You catch a sharp red dorsal fin cutting through the surface. You straighten where you sit on the beach, your heart picking up softly at the familiar sight. The water is crystalline and blue, giving way to a sharp shape of black and white and red just below the rippling surface. 

There he is.

Setting your journal aside before it can get wet, you patiently brace for Eclipse to get your attention. You don’t have to wait for his head to rear. Framed in sharp, pointed frills, bleeding burnt orange and deep red hues like a darkening sunset, his face rises above the water with heavy trickles dropping back into the ocean. His black and white crescent mark face splits into a grin. Razor-sharp teeth flash in sheer delight. 

He stops his shark-like approach, almost beached in the shallows. His tail waves slowly side to side and stirs up sand, clouding the space where he lies in anticipation. Resting on his elbows, his sleek and dangerous frame half submerged and revealing his beautiful, shiny pattern of black and white, Eclipse slowly lifts a hand. Arching a black-bone clawed finger, he grins.

“Come closer, mushroom,” he rumbles low, sweet and abysmal. He beckons with his fingers. “I want to see you.”

You lift your chin, a mischievous streak painting you with playful intent. You grin. Eclipse is already on guard, his wide eyes drilling into you with the intensity of twin suns, one yellow, and one red. 

“But it’s so nice on the beach.” You reach down and pat the sand beside you. The heat of the sun warms it underneath your palm. “Won’t you join me?”

His grin turns harsher, askew. He lowers his hand but you watch it drag just underneath the water, cutting into sand and leaving ribbons in his wake. 

“You will be so much warmer in my arms.” As if to emphasize this, he opens them to welcome you into his embrace. His claws curly slightly with a greedy need. “Come closer, my fairy.”

“I didn’t hear a please,” you answer, batting your eyelashes sweetly. “Besides, the sun is so warm already! If you joined me, you could find out for yourself.”

He will beach himself. You know he will, but he wants you in the water today. You see it in how his tail curls, almost as if to slap the surface with his frustrations but the game is still going. It’s his turn now.

Eclipse is no less spirited when he snaps his jaws. “Please, mushroom. I won’t beg again. Come closer. Let me hold you. Let me have you entirely.” 

You brush your hair back over your shoulder. Fixing your red hat, mushroom in shape and dotted with small white specks, you slowly get to your feet. You stand, pushing Eclipse’s patience as you regard the water and then him with a mirthful smile.

“Come closer to me. Meet me halfway,” you press, flippant and challenging, all at once.

The orca siren snarls low, yet he never loses the glimmer in his gaze as he pushes himself up the shore. You balk internally, catch off guard at how quickly he beaches himself, his tail almost entirely out of the water as he regards you with a hunger bordering on something savage. 

“I am here.” He presses a wet hand into the hand, pushing himself into a looming, threatening shadow over the sand. His one claws curl. Your insides bubble at his intensity. “Come. Closer. You only need to take a few steps to be mine.”

Softly, you take a step forward. His eyes flash to your toes curling in the sand and you hold your stance again. A growl rumbles through his chest. You shouldn’t enjoy this so much. He could have sang and already had you in his clutches, but he enjoys your feisty dares as much as you do. Holding yourself strong, you return his gaze unblinkingly. 

“You have to be nice, or else I’ll swim far away.” You bite back a note of laughter.

Eclipse, however, does not. His pulsing chortle echoes, almost rippling over the waves in melodic amusement.

“Even in your siren form, you aren’t fast enough to escape from me.” He holds out a hand. The slickness of his palm, just inches away from snatching the edges of your pale dress. “But I will be good to you. I always am.”

You muse for a moment, and his gaze narrows in the slightest. You’ve reached the end of his rope.

“Be good, my little fairy.” His black bone claws turn underneath the sunlight, glinting wickedly, and you almost choke at how beautiful and terrible they are. “Come closer.”

You have resisted him for long enough. Teasingly, you walk slowly, stretching your stride and sinking into the sand. Eclipse shimmers slightly, almost drying out underneath the baking sun. His tail and fins shift anxiously as if he intends to pounce upon you. Once you move within reach, you can hardly blink before he captures your wrist and gently pulls you down with him.

You laugh once as he quickly covers you in his shadow. He’s been waiting far too long, you imagine. Your knees are propped on otherside of him as he bears down upon you, nearly pinning you underneath his weight before studying you slowly. His looming form provides a gentle reprieve from the harsh sunlight. 

“You need to be good,” he reminds you. A deep rumble vibrates the very air and touches you. You gasp softly underneath him. A claw carefully brushes away a thick, dark brown lock of hair from your face. “I must always have you within reach.”

“You always grab me when you do,” you counter with a pointed look, but a smile traces your lips.

“I want to see you.” He lowers himself until he’s almost laying on top of you. His sleek body gleams and a few drops of water fall from the end of his head frills and onto the sand around you. “All of you. I want to feel how soft and sweet you are.”

Internally, you begin to melt. A softness washes over you, taking you underneath his gentle touch. The orca siren draws his fingertips carefully along your cheekbone, carefully memorizing the shape of your face. His slick touch leaves a residue of sea salt and water behind. It cools your skin gently. He parts his mouth and swipes his tongue over his rows of teeth. Your eyes follow the movement, captivated. He chortles.

“You want to see me as well,” he purrs. “You must have me close. You always want me here with you. Say it.”

You resist for a moment, a teasing retort somewhere in the back of your throat, but he takes hold of your chin and you are lost in his burning eyes. He is too stunning, too overwhelming. Your body is hot and molten. 

Softly, you echo his words. “I do. I want you close to me.” You blush as you keep speaking, unable to resist the red surge in your cheeks. “I want you here with me. Always.”

“Good, my little fairy,” he drawls, and his grin widens with delight, “Come here. Swim with me in the water again.”

He gently tugs you further and further off the sand. You let him, carefully cradled in the strength of his arms, small and tiny in his embrace. You hide your face briefly in the crook of his shoulder. The scent of sea salt and a harsh musk like rime fills your nostrils, and you breathe easier. 

The first touch of the water against your skin sends a shiver up your spine. Quickly, your body adjusts to the warm, soothing temperature of the water. The sand stirs, filling the shallows as Eclipse manages to flip his tail and bring you with him as the slope of land underneath your body falls lower, and lower still. 

“Eclipse?” you ask softly. You touch his hands, holding them tighter to you as he begins swimming from the safety of shore. He easily keeps you above the lapping waves trying to drench your head and mushroom hat. 

“I won’t allow you to sink,” the orca siren rumbles as sweetly as the lowest cords of bass in a song. Held to his chest, the water splashing your sides, you believe him. There is no place safer than within his arms. “I have missed your beautiful tail and how silky your hair becomes in the water. Let me see you like that again.”

He stops well within sight of the island. You turn within his embrace. His large hands rest on your waist and keep you afloat. A gentle shudder falls over you with the encouraging brush of his finger along your spine, pressing the fabric of your soaked dress against your skin. 

“You swam with me yesterday.” You meant to answer with more resolve, more of a teasing bite, but it leaves your lips softly, as if reminiscing on how far he swam with you, the great reefs he helped you explore and then the sandy shore you both laid upon as you explained to him the nature of fungi and how beautifully and diverse they grow.

“I did. I want to see you again.” His gaze softens. His pelvic fins softly sway to keep him steady against the ever nudging presence of the tide. You watch his tail for a moment, breathless. His black and white colors strike out against the blues and his red and orange tipped flukes cut through the depths with ease. 

His hand, slick and salty, cups your cheek. You fall softly into his embrace. Gently, you cup his much larger digits closer against your face. 

“My little fairy. Swim with me,” he murmurs, raspy and yearning. 

His voice lowers to a gentle hum as he presses you closer against him still. Your legs slide against his sleek flesh and your breath rattles out of your throat, overwhelmed by his closeness. How much he hungers for you. You close your eyes and nod gently.

“Alright,” you chuckle, “Just this once.”

But you’ve said that before.

Eclipse clicks a joyful series of sounds. His jaws clap as his hand cups the back of your head. Claws entangled with your long, brown locks. A smile tugs on the corner of your mouth as he closes the distance. 

In the sea, the orca siren dips you low into a kiss, pulling you underneath the surface with a soft swirl of bubbles. The great eruption of magic and power flows into you, set free by his lips and gently pressed into your body, stirring up your marrow and lying over your skin. It is energy and love; it is the will of a siren who has claimed you as his mate.

He gently eases you back. You float softly in the water, but when your lips part, free of his magic and air, you freely intake water. Oxygen flows through you, keeping you buoyant and uncensored as any other fish who swim these crystal clear tides. 

A sweet hum ripples through the water and washes over you. Eclipse eyes roam you freely, hungrily. Softly, you open your arms and look down at yourself, your dress still hanging wet and secure against your body but your legs are no more. Instead, a slender, flowing tail flicks through the sea. You’ve grown used to the waving motion of fins, flipping back and forth—though Eclipse often saves you from such effort by carrying you where you would like to go. 

Long tendrils flow from your mushroom hat. Your senses awaken to the new appendages as they surround you like the tentacles of a jellyfish and your cap acting as the bell. Your hair flows freely through the water, softly twisting and waving. You gently push up your hat to gaze adoringly at Eclipse.

His hands find your waist and gradually slide down. His palms are large, almost squeezing you with his adoration before he brushes a hand softly over a red flowing fin, dotting in white not unlike your mushroom cap. 

His eyes glimmer. A tenderness fills his frame while softly, he admires your stunning new form. It is thanks to him you can even experience the sea in such a way. You wonder if your red tail stands out too much or if the vivid yellow tendrils falling down from your cap are too strange to a siren, but Eclipse easily brushes those aside to meet you underneath the water. His mouth parts and a few bubbles escape. His lips mouth words of sweet nothing. 

You blush fiercely when he takes your face gently in his hands. You breathe softly as he draws nearer. His claw carefully traces the shell of your ear, following the sharp point and admiring it as if it were sea glass or a treasured seashell. How he looks at you, how he holds you spills over with cherishment that sets your heart aflame. It is a miracle the water around you doesn’t bubble and fizz when he at last pushes aside the last of the ocean separating you and captures your mouth sweetly in a kiss.

The gentle pressure of his presence trickles into you, filling you like an empty well given fresh rain. You trace his arms. Underneath your touch, you marvel at the lithe cords of muscle tucked underneath his sleek, shiny skin. His claws wickedly trace the corners of your jawbone until you let out a soft, sweet sound of awe. 

He parts from you gently and grins like a shark with the prey already between his teeth.

Gently, he turns and tugs on your hand. You follow with a flick of your tail, your soft, translucent fins seemingly more for beauty than any speed or agility akin to an orca siren. 

Eclipse told you when he first changed you with his siren song that you are perfect. Though you don’t have his teeth and talons, he promises to protect and provide for you. You always thought he was far too eager to serve, to give you everything, but his love has always been like a floodtide, washing you out to sea with the force of it.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

His flukes flick carefully, minding how you fit along his side. Even in a siren form, you are tiny in comparison to his natural streamline body and cutting-edge fins. You don’t mind. Eclipse has tried to feed you fish time and time again and you refused, opting to wait until you had your human legs back to find food and feast. 

Towards the back end of the island, the trees grow too dense and the ground too muddy and slick to traverse well, but through the water, you arrive without an ounce of difficulty. 

Eclipse gently takes you by the arms, guiding you forward while he swims you faster than you could have hoped. A beautiful reef teams with life, bursting with colors in dozens of corals and darting with tiny fish and creatures who propel and jump and dash through the aquamarine and sunshine dazzling the ground.

You marvel. Your hand softly flies to your mouth as you gaze at the vision. Gently, you reach for Eclipse’s hand. He slows enough for you to push your mushroom cap up, peeking out from underneath, and beam at him with all your might. 

Eclipse chortles. He doesn’t speak in the water but he doesn’t have to. You show him how pleased you are, and softly, while twirling one of your yellow tendrils gently around his finger, Eclipse glides with you over the reef to admire the beautiful wildlife.