#thanks for the ask...kind of lol
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seb wants to be pet, too đ€đ ((TYSM to @angel-fr0m-venus for asking how seb would react to clora petting all the cats around the school/hogsmeade BAHAHA. like a neglected puppy, thats howđ¶))
#and thank you for the kind words as well!! im glad you like my content so much your ask was so sweetđ„čđand ty for the inspo!!#i like how yesterday i was all OH ART WILL BE SLOWER and then i immediately finish this and post it LOL.. this was supposed to be a doodle#i was getting my ass handed to me in elden ring last night and needed a break.......my spirit can only take so much#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x oc#clora clemons#hogwarts legacy sebastian#choccyart#my family had to put our 18 year old black cat down this month so thats why i made clora petting a black catđ„Č MAY have teared up#also clora has a pet cat named winnie that seb knows about so i assume when he watches her pet all the cats hes like aw u miss him#but that only goes so far until he gets jelly and then HE wants rubs LOL#no not those kind of rubs#but also yes those kind of rubsđ
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hereâs the college au spawned and raven will show up later đđ
#teen titans#starfire#robstar#dick grayson#donna troy#beast boy#cyborg#dickkory#dc comics#titans college au#i have basic ideas but i need them#i feel shame honestly but i push this back in my mind#thank u all btw for ur kind comments ilu#i see the asks i just⊠need 2 sec and will respond LOL thanks so much đđđâ€ïž
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I donât know if this makes sense, but the way you write Akari and Ingo reminds me of One Summerâs Day by Joe Hisaishi. This is a compliment. Maybe not a very good one.
Um. I like your writing!
Ahh I love that track!!! So nostalgic! Thank you so much anon ;w; I take that as a huge compliment!! Iâm so glad you like my writing!!!
Here, take a sketch I did back in November. Never got to finish it for the holidays like I wanted to, but I want to finish it when I can!!
#Ingo give her the hat so she can finish her snowman#submas#Ingo#warden Ingo#Akari#pokemon akari#quilava#pokemon legends arceus#pokemon legends#PLA#Pokemon#waywardâs asks#waywardstationart#<- kind of#a more refined version will come at some point#I need to stop hiding unfinished work lol I can just post them as sketches#THANK YOU ANON ;w;
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Hello. Would you be interested in sharing information about Cimmorro? I love your art and I think he is rotating in my brain. Like in a microwave.
of course! even better, let him tell you. he loves talking about himself
there's still a bit i can't quite share because he's my dnd pc. a few bits of his lore are yet to be revealed to our table. :) feel free to ask though and i'll see if i'll be able to answer! (may or may not be answered by cimm again!)
#asks#pond-porridge#thought id give this a little effort since i havent really properly introduced him LOL#thanks for asking and the kind words <3#dats my art thx#cimmorro#dnd#original
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you're gonna have to give your next ghostsoap drawings bite marks because i am fuckin chewing on your art all day every day cuz IT'S SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD
THANK YOUU! so much biting! we all know they're already each other's chew toys - guess affection means bitey
#ask#anon ask#thank you!! <33 my art is in pieces by now <33#death by kindness (and numerous teeth)#ghoap#ghostsoap#soapghost#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#my art#cod fanart#doodle#sketch#seems like a fairly agreed upon thing that these two bite each other lol
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Your Gem as an unlabelled bi/gay non-op transman who uses she/her has overridden my previous headcanons and rewired my brain. Quite possibly the most correct take I've ever seen.
I really appreciate you saying this :â) she is so dear to me. I love your turiagirl headcanons as I think gem would definitely be mspec and I havenât heard of the label before⊠itâs always fun finding out the new ways people are able to label complex gender attraction!
Iâve been thinking about bi gay gem for the past couple of days too. I just think she is able to represent a facet of masculinity I can relate to heavily because of her unconventional expression of her gender. Unlabelled because she doesnât think too hard about it but able to identify herself in the flux that is masc while also using conventionally fem constructs because she just likes them ⊠AOUHH thank you for making my day đ
#geminitay#art tag#itâs been a really funny but extremely pleasant time being able to talk about hermitshipping and personal hc transgender headcanons#I originally had a response that was a lot more personal in regards to the concept of identifying as masc but I condensed it heavily here#i hope it comes across as very reflective and not preachy LOL#I just find it fascinating that not too long ago combining âcontradictingâ labels was a huge point of discourse for a good while#which i feel comfortable saying that is extremely dumb LOL#I think the queer human experience is diverse and rich#but anyways thank you so much⊠I really like tboy gem⊠this has significant implications I thinkâŠ#your tags are always so kind#hermitcraft#ask#ask art tag#talk tag
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Tar-Telepta, Aran MorinĂłrea: I want to hear about Annatar's Shit Paradigms, of course :D
...All right so here's the thing you don't get Annatar's Shit Paradigms because it needed so much groundwork before I can begin to write actual prose. But you do get this whole thing describing Annatar's interiority in the months after The Inciting Event for the whole au. Because I needed to pin it down so I can even start Annatar's Shit Paradigms.
--
Celebrimbor confronts Annatar - Tar-Mairon - about his activities in Mordor, gives him the âYour evil plans or meâ ultimatum, and then Mairon fucks off to go have a tantrum.
This tantrum involves:ïżœïżœ
Going back to Barad-dur and killing some people who definitely 100% deserved it for sure.Â
That thing where someone goes to a bathroom and splashes water on their face and looks in the mirror while leaning on the sink except itâs lava instead of water.Â
Laying facedown in the fires of Mount Doom and rethinking his life.Â
Causing multiple earthquakes.Â
...Thinking about the joy of watching Celebrimbor learn and make things.Â
Thinking about the satisfaction of working in partnership with someone else, someone as vibrant and strong and smart and wonderful as Celebrimbor.Â
Thinking about going and taking Celebrimbor by force, laying siege to Ost-in-Edhil and putting him in chains and bringing him here and keeping him.
⊠Thinking about how strong and vibrant and stubborn and principled Celebrimbor is.Â
Thinking about whether Celebrimbor would be one of those people who would rather die than live as a thrall.Â
Realizing that yes, Celebrimbor absolutely would die for what he believes in, and it would be so much work to try keep his spirit around, and it wouldnât be nearly the same as having him - really having him - having him to work and argue and play with - having his love.
Remembering that Celebrimbor still doesnât know about the Sauron thing, and he might be able to keep it that way.
Remembering that Celebrimbor did not cast him out of his life unequivocally - he will not be the friend or lover of a slaver and an imperialist, but if Mairon takes steps to stop being those things -
Thinking about how hard it would be, really, to stop being those things.
Realizing heâs genuinely considering just giving up on the vision of Melkor.
Spontaneously filling the whole room with flames.
That was the throne room. Heâd been sitting there, motionless and completely unresponsive, for four days.
There might have been people in there who will be annoying to replace. Mairon simply cannot care about it right now.
Remaining on fire while thinking about Melkorâs promises.
He said it was only a matter of time.
He said it would be better to put the rightful king on the throne of Arda quickly, and get back to the business of metals and fractals, than to fight a long defeat and be judged unworthy at the end, never having time for beauty again.
And then He lost.
Three times out of four.
As soon as the Valar bothered to interfere.
And maybe, at the end, after the final battle, it would be better, safer, to have been working toward His purposes the whole time He was gone, but -
Thinking about what would happen if the Valar bothered to interfere with his current projects.
âŠThinking about how hard it would be, really, to be - in truth, even, maybe! - someone Celebrimbor could love.
How hard would it be to act within the boundaries of Celebrimborâs principles?
He did not say âBelieve what I believe.â
He did not say âCease to be a monster.â
He said âYour policies are monstrous and I cannot support them,â which suggests that it is the action that matters most to him. That the problem is what he is doing, and not what he is.
Changing that does not seem so hard.
Perhaps it will be a fun challenge, like an arbitrary restriction for a jewelcraft competition.
And really - if anyone is going to change him - if heâs going to accept anyoneâs judgement - if thereâs anyone currently in Arda who Mairon thinks is right - would it not be Celebrimbor?
Of course it would.
Deciding that, you know what, Mairon would be willing to commit to Celebrimborâs vision - if Celebrimbor will fucking commit to him.
This is so Mairon can keep him.
So that they will twine their souls together and be - be that partnership which is so full of joy.
Deciding that if Celebrimbor wonât do it - if he wants âAnnatarâ to give him this without giving anything in return - then - yes.
Then he will find another way to keep him.Â
And it would not be as good, it would not be Maironâs shining vision, but it would be something. And eventually Celebrimbor would see the value in Maironâs methods. Heâs sure of it.
When heâs finally done with his tantrum, Annatar climbs out of the magma-filled crevasse he'd been sulking in and goes up to draft the words to a wedding proposal.
#silvergifting#gem writes#aran morinorea#significant formatting was lost. hm. whatever#...tbh this might be ao3-ready?#huh#it's in a kind of silly tone for what it is but i'm not convinced i care#thanks for the ask ^-^#i dont have any more...#maybe i'll actually go to bed on time then lol
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This little interaction made me so happy! Killer really fought through Dream to give Cross his necklace back
Asjlkhdkgkd I'm so glad you liked it!! I had fun putting a little story into that one ^^
And, because I am normal and don't think about these guys for hours every day, here's some backstory:
When Cross first joined, Killer actually took to him pretty quickly (Dust and Horror did not get warm welcomes). Which is to say he immediately started flocking to Cross to annoy him and compete with him on missions. Cross didn't have the benefit of knowing Killer already to see these were affectionate annoyances, so to him Killer was just some guy who had a problem and wouldn't leave him alone.
During that mission, Nightmare was calling a retreat when he put a hand to his chest and realised the heart locket was gone. Killer saw him looking all around frantically and had a good idea what was lost, since it was the one thing Cross would absolutely not part with since he joined. So, Killer ran back out towards the stars to look for it, because why learn self preservation now. It was the first thing to convince Cross that Killer actually was being (relatively) friendly, despite all the annoyances.
And also, a doodle of the afterwards of that picture
because it's probably the only time he's managed to get Killer to shut up lol
#Ask#blinddreams24#Truce au#Thank you!!! I'm really genuinely so happy people like my silly little comic ^^#Sorry you got a whole dissertation in response I just like thinking about these two in particular lol#Cross's locket is very important to him he Does Not mess around when it comes to that thing#It also goes with my hc that Killer is lowkey touchstarved as hell#He has not had many hugs in his lifetime as Killer so the casual affection without having to taunt someone into a fight was game changing#Cross kind of became second in charge of watching for Killer's stages as they became friends#Also in Dream's defence he thought Killer was charging back in for round 2#When he just scooped up a necklace and ran off Dream felt bad for shooting but it was partly on Killer for searching with a knife out#Oh my god this is like an essay I'm so sorry I can't shut up about these guys#UTDR#UTMV
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Youâre genuinely so funny. You should seriously make some kind of comic
omg this is such a late response but i hope you know that i made this EXACT face when reading this. thank you SO much!!! i really would love to make a comic soon featuring my oc's or something... maybe i'll get around to planning one eventually. but comics aside, your words mean SOOO much. THANK YOU AGAIN!!!! đđđâ€â€â€â€
#SERIOUSLY SO SWEET... AUGHHHH <333#comics are so hard to make when you're in a creative block... BUT I WILL PROSPER...#i'm just very grateful to the people out there who enjoy my content#even if i've been... VERY slow this year HAHA. which i am sorry about T_T#i've just been so oc pilled that i forget to upload them here outside of talking to my oomfs abt them LOL#BUT AUGH. I DIGRESS. THANK YOU AGAIN ANON. YOU'RE TOO KIND <3#ask bob
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hello sel!!! hru doing??
The ask game is super fun! How about Gojo + vindictive.
I hope u hv had a lovely day đ«¶
zuro anon
zuro anon hello!! thanks for sending in a prompt!! i'm doing good đ„ș spending this lil vacay at home, mostly đ„ș and happy to be back writing đ„ș i hope you have the loveliest weekend đ
contains: non-canon, childhood enemies to lovers (ish), (modern) arranged marriage, reader wears a braid and dresses
gojo + vindictive
you hate gojo satoru. you have ever since you were 5.
he's a bullyâa real cocky one at that, with no regard or remorse for how his actions affect those around him.
on the day before your 6th birthday, right as your parents gathered together for the annual countdown, he gobbled up the entire plate of your favorite milk cakes before you could even take a bite. this marked the start, the beginning of a vengeance stewing inside of you.
at the age of 8, when you first learned how to do your own braids, he would tug at them, pull them free and unravel all your hard work for the past hour. you used to chase him for it, yell "satoru!" with all the strength your little lungs could muster and he would merely laugh and run faster.
the name "satoru," you've learned, must be synonymous with "sabotage," because it's all he's ever done. he threw the flower geto suguru handpicked for you straight to the ground, and purposely splashed gutter water all over the white dress you intended to wear on your first date.
not to mention, he's always rubbed in the fact that he's better than you, at everythingâdangled all his accomplishments in front of you as if he knew they were just centimeters out of reach.
gojo satoru is solely responsible for tainting your childhood memories a miserable cerulean blue.
so, when your parents sit you down one day and tell you that you'll have to marry him, you feel transported in that moment, to each and every instance gojo has ever wronged you. it flips through your mind like a montage of flashbacks in a movie.
it's both surprising and not. your families have always been partners, in everythingâbusiness, education, and now you guess, life as well. you hate gojo's guts but this creates an opportunity you don't think can result from anything else.
so, sure, you'll agree to the marriageâonly to make his life a living hell.
"hello, fiancée," he greets you, for the first time since the agreement.
you don't do anything to hide your disgust, face scrunching up as you spit out, "shut up, satoru."
the wedding planning is horrendousâat least, you hope it is for him. you pick out every single cake flavor you know he hates and choose the brightest venue possible for the event. the lights you pick for the afterparty are strobe lights, and you make sure to do multiple test runs just to play with his eyes. it doesn't occur to you that the solution to his light sensitivity is simple: just a plain pair of shades.
you wear plumping lip gloss on your wedding day, just so his lips burn when you have to kiss him. but gojo is either extremely numb or just good at faking it, because all he does is grin as he whispers quietly before parting, "spicy."
in preparation for your married life, you create a ledger of some sortâa book of accounts housing every single thing gojo has done wrong. you write down your plans to get him back for each of them, a list of pranks and inconveniences to make him regret ever messing with you all those years ago.
at half a year of marriage and 25 years of knowing each other, he casually tells you the big "i love you," but you're sure he doesn't mean it. you tell yourself your heart is racing from how infuriating his existence is; at how stupid his face looked when he'd said it. not anything else and most especially not the little dimple on his cheek that shows itself every now and then.
(you didn't know it yet then, but he'd found the ledger you kept and read through it all. the one-year plan, the three-year plan, the five, and so on. and it does nothing but strengthen how he feels about you, since he was 6, 14, and a few years ago at 24.
it's at your third year of marriage that you find outâhow gojo's known all this time, but more importantly, how there were reasons behind every single instance you thought he was out to ruin your life.
with intelligence far beyond his age, gojo has always preferred the company of adults more than children. at age 6, he would listen in on conversations his mother had with her friends, roughly comprehending complex worlds with the simple ones he understood. someone had mentioned something about their daughter being allergic to milk. and so, when your birthday came up and all he saw were milk treats, he gobbled them all up in an effort to make sure you wouldn't be subjected to an adverse reactionâeven though you were far off from any dairy allergy.
what he was sure of, however, was that you were severely allergic to bees. and when he spotted one perched right on the buttercup stem geto handed you, he had no choice but to smack it right out of your hand and down to the ground, stepping on it too, for good measure.
and, okay, maybe he was a little naughty for tugging at your braids when you'd just spent all that time doing them, but he always liked how they flowed into waves when they unravelled; how you'd chase him afterwards, angry but so, so pretty.
if there's one moment gojo will consider real sabotage, though, it's that date he stopped you from going to. like there was any way he was going to let another man see you dressed like that. he isn't nice that way. when gojo wants something, he's not sharing, and the sight of you in whiteâthat was meant to be his and only his.)
#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#shotorus.workbook#this was interesting!!! bc i dont necessarily see gojo to be vindictive (hella petty yes HABSFh but not vindictive)#so trying to somehow incorporate the prompt really stretched out my braincells#thank you for this zuro anon!!#i hope you like it!!#additional context stuff!! they both come from affluent families and gojo is a little insane when it comes to love#not normal at all LOL he gets off from reader's hatred hsbfhsgdfv#reader learns to love him eventually. its rlly just a matter of seeing everything differently and understanding the whole situation#why he did things the way he did etc etc#not written but gojo hasbeen a kind of constant in reader's life and has been there at their lowest too !!!#and he really does go out of his way to make things work for reader too just not in ways obvious to reader !#for one of their classes in uni gojo got a really high grade compared to everyone else so chances of a curve were slim#reader's grade wasn't really that high and they were really sad about it#so gojo did a bunch of extra work for the professor so that he would agree to curve everyone's grades higher LOL#things like that ! he also trashed the front yard of the first boy that broke reader's heart đđđđ#nonie.zuro#ask#rep#ask game answered
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7: Night Shift
art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises
you work in one of the tourist traps along a popular beach pier known for its party scene. it's a night like any other. you have no idea about the unusual party crashers who are about to show up and ruin everything.
->original work. explicit; contains non-con, graphic descriptions of violence, feral behavior, hard vore, mind control, terato, non-human genitalia.
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Last week, it was âGreek Gods of the Sea.â Togas and tridents, mostly, some seashell bikinis, a few fake beards stuffed with plastic starfish. They drank too much and cranked the music too loud, but thatâs nothing new. Everyone knows what to expect from the Lucky Rock Pier Party People Association (âLurpppaâ to the local news, âTrouble at Ten OâClockâ to your fellow boardwalk employees, âThose Fucking Kidsâ to beachfront property owners).Â
You wear headphones most nights anyway, desperate to keep the shrill, repetitive carnival songs of the pier funhouse from being seared into your brain. They donât bother you much because the sign at the front says thereâs no bathroom and all the hot dogs and funnel cakes are further down the boardwalk, but a few will trickle in just for something to do. If they spot the freezer, theyâll huddle around the glass and stare like the Mona Lisaâs in there, agonizing over a choice between an ice cream sandwich or fruit pops.Â
Tonight, itâs a glow party. Neon beach balls and glow stick arches. You canât hear the noise theyâre making through your headphones but you can feel the bass throbbing through your feet. Someoneâs probably going to call the cops again. The tourist family population retreats this time of night so itâs just you, the handful of shops still open this late, and Trouble at Ten OâClock. This oneâs more fun to watch, at least, bright and colorful like the spill of noctiluca. Theyâre vivid in glow-in-the-dark body paint, covered in luminescent stripes, swirls and splatters.Â
A few of them come stumbling up the pier earlier than usual. Three women in different halter tops, painted with matching curly cues and butterflies on their faces. One of them wanders off to look at the tote bags. Another, much more inebriated, leans heavily against her friend. The designated driver, you assume, who drags her to the freezer to pick out something to eat. You glance down at the beach and see one of them sitting on Lucky Rock, the jagged chunk of stone sticking out of the water not far from shore. Youâre not sure how he climbed up the slippery, steep sides but heâs definitely not supposed to be up there. The people on the beach are way too excited about it, gathered around cheering and hollering.Â
Three ice cream sandwiches are dropped on the counter in front of you. You lift one side of your headphones and shrieking noise rushes in, the glow party just as raucous as you expected. âWill that be all?â you ask. The woman nods. Her friend starts to fall over and she has to support her weight against her shoulder. You ring up the total and she groans. Everything on the boardwalk is three times the price it should be, but she adds a tote bag when the other woman wanders back with one and tosses their ice cream inside. âThanks, come again,â you call, sliding your headphones back on.
Ten minutes until closing time. Not much to do but sweep out the sand gathered in the doorway and tidy up the disaster zone a horde of children made of the stuffed animal section. Sharks and dolphins on the top shelf, turtles on the second, fish and starfish on the thirdâ
Something moves in the corner of your eye. Startled, you turn and find a man ambling slowly through the store. A stray from the glow party, you think at first. Then you look again, paying attention this time. He looks like all the partygoers down on the beach, a silhouette with luminescent edges, but he shouldnât. Not under the store lights. Heâs midnight blue from head to toe beneath intricate glowing patterns, chest and shoulders speckled with small dots like cyan freckles with larger spots along his sides. Thin stripes trace the outlines of muscle beneath the skin, turning into a spiral pattern at his hips.Â
Which you can see, you realize, because heâs naked. No swim trunks. No speedo. Heâs wet and dripping all over the floor like he just crawled out of the water, a puddle slowly growing beneath his feet, and you can follow the course of every droplet as they roll slowly down curves and valleys of lithe swimmerâs muscles. Some of the lines on his torso are moving, you realize. Horizontal squiggles on either side of his abdomen flinch and pulsate.Â
Gills, you realize. The pieces come together all at once in your mind. Despite working the boardwalk as long as you have, youâve never seen a sea muse before. Most people havenât. Theyâre skittish, youâve heard. They prefer quiet coves and grottos, places humans have a harder time reaching. Safer that way if they decide to shed their tail and sun themselves for a while. This one certainly doesnât seem bothered by the commotion down at the beach, poking through the t-shirt rack with long, clawed fingers. He doesnât look much like the pictures youâve seen, either, but all the pictures are of muses lurking in tropical reefs, big-finned and colorful like bettas. Beautiful like him, but not bioluminescent and not quite so large. He must come from deeper, colder waters.Â
You set down a stuffed octopus as gently as you can but he hears it, turning swiftly to face you. Your heart races. He has the large, eerie eyes of an abyssal creature, glowing half-moons gleaming underneath wide silver irises and black sclera. Nobody prepared you for what to do in this situation. Do you play dead? Raise your arms and make noise to scare him off? What you mistook for slicked back hair is some kind of shimmery membrane. It flares out like the neck flap of a cobra in a threat display, but it starts to sag and flatten the longer you stare at each other. His eyes move slightly in their wide sockets, looking you over head to toe.Â
An uncannily human smile spreads across his face. He makes some odd gestures towards you. His mouth moves. Heâs talking, you realize, trying to communicate. You almost lift your headphones off but your brain catches up at the last second. You donât know a lot about sea muses but you know enough to keep your ears covered.Â
He blinks, staring at you in almost comical wide-eyed confusion. Then he smirks, his gills fluttering with laughter. He starts pacing back and forth, slowly inching closer like a shark circling prey in the water. Heâs between you and the door so you inch towards the register counter instead. Maybe you can slip out the back?Â
He stops suddenly, leaving some distance between you. He speaks again, tapping the side of his head and pointing at you. You shake your head and he frowns, but he doesnât give up. You watch, morbid curiosity overpowering your fear, as he starts to move in a slow, seductive manner. Itâs some kind of dance, you think, arching his back and extending the membrane on his head again, bioluminescence glittering on thin, translucent flesh. He holds your gaze as he runs a hand down the center of his chest, over his stomach, down to his pelvis andâ
Youâre not entirely sure what you expected to see between his legs, but itâs still a bit of a shock. The thick, jutting member is deep indigo at the base and a lighter aquamarine down the length. It barely resembles a human cock except in its vaguely phallic silhouette, oozing from an engorged sheath that dribbles cloudy slime. The shaft is smooth with a gentle upward curve, thick and shuddering with unnatural flexibility. It narrows to a soft triangular tip. Two additional appendages unfold from his hips. They remind you of crustacean legs, rigid and insectoid. They bend along two joints, pawing at the air with their sharp claw tips.Â
The sea muse makes a thrusting motion. The tentacle-cock wraps around his hand, drooling like a tongue. His bioluminescent patches flash and dim like a flickering candle. Youâre no marine biologist but it feels safe to assume this is a mating display.
âUh. No? No thanks,â you say.
He grins. You see a row of daggers for teeth. He speaks slowly and your heart skips a beat when you clearly read the words, Are you sure? on his lips.Â
âIâm sure. Thanks anyway.â Maybe you should be flattered. Youâve never heard of anyone getting hit on by a sea muse. He lets out a big, disappointed sigh, extra dramatic so you canât miss it, and gives himself one last stroke before he moves on. You half-expect the cock to slither back into its sheath, but it stays obscenely hard and straining upright between his legs.
To your dismay, he doesnât leave but instead pokes around the shop some more. He wanders to the left, examining surfboard keychains and hibiscus shot glasses. He wanders to the right, squinting at the postcards. Eventually, he makes his way to the freezer and slides it open with some difficulty. His head membrane flares out wider than youâve ever seen it the first time he sticks his hand inside. You wonder if he hissed. He tries again, pinching a fruit pop in its colorful package between his claws. He rips the plastic open.
âHey!â you say. âYou canât justââ
He looks back over his shoulder at you, eyes narrowed and membrane spread in warning. You turn away and continue to mind your own business.Â
The glow party seems to be winding down. The beach balls are all sitting in a pile. Some of the glow stick arches have toppled over. The pounding bass isnât shaking the pier anymore. You see a lot of people lounging in the sand, rolling around, stretched out together, a bunch of them writhingâ
Oh, you think. Thatâs bold, even for Trouble at Ten OâClock. Thereâs no mistaking those thrusting, grinding, back and forth movements for anything else. There are a few couples scattered around but most of them have settled into a spot worryingly close to the water, seafoam rushing around them whenever the waves come surging up the beach. They tangle together in passionate motion, kissing and caressing and fucking like itâs the last night of their lives.
Something about it unsettles you. Theyâre being so rough with each other. This isnât a slow, sensual orgy but a frenzy. Mindless, animalistic rutting and forceful movements. You see mouths open in silent screams. Some of them arenât moving. Some of them are trying to crawl away but theyâre being dragged back by the ankle, the hair, the arm, pulled through the dark sand. Why is the sand so dark? And wet, glistening where the tide hasnât risen yet.Â
The horrific realization grips you slowly. Youâre in denial. You must be having a nightmare. A man tries to claw his way up the beach but someone else pins him down, straddles his back. You donât see what happens, canât make it out in the dark, but the paint on his body stretches and splits, and the sand darkens in a liquid motion under him. A woman arches her back in the throes of ecstasy, surrounded on all sides by eager, thrusting bodies. Theyâre biting her, you realize. Their heads lower and blood splashes the sand. Through all of it, she squirms and rakes her fingers through the sound as though sheâs never felt pleasure like this before. Someone crawls between her legs and she opens them eagerly, loops them around the waist of something that is not human, you realize. None of the ones surrounding her are. They glow more brightly in more precise patterns, membranes pulsating, gills fluttering.
Your headphones are ripped away, clattering uselessly to the floor. You hear an awful cacophony of moaning, screaming, begging, and weeping. You think, for just a second, about running. Your muscles tense and your heart races. Where? For how long? You donât know but youâre willing to try.Â
âWhere are you going?â says the sea muse and you canât move a muscle. His voice is low and melodic. You hear the ocean when he speaks; the hiss and splash of the shallows, the heavy drone of the deep. âHm? Do you want to join them?â You hear the wet slap of his footsteps for the first time as he comes closer. His hand grasps your chin lightly, barely applying any pressure, but you feel compelled to turn around. To look up at his sharp-toothed smile and the gentle pulse of his bioluminescence. âMy shiver is down there. Frenzying,â he says. He turns your head to the side, just far enough to glimpse the gruesome scene on the beach, then returns your gaze to him.Â
âPlease donât,â you say hoarsely, your throat constricted. âDonât make me, donâtââÂ
âItâs been so long,â he says, and your mouth snaps shut. âSince I last came ashore.â He walks backwards, his fingers still ghosting against your chin, and you follow. You donât want to but your legs move on their own. His voice is addictive. You hang on every word and you hope he never stops talking. The silence between makes you tremble. âEven longer since I last mated. You can see it. You can tell how long Iâve waited, if you look.âÂ
You donât want to look but your eyes betray you, gaze lowering to the slithering thing between his legs. It curls around itself impatiently like a snake. Another glob of slime slides slowly from its sheath and dribbles on the floor. The way it moves frightens you, the base twitching and undulating, slug-like.Â
âYou want this,â he says. He takes another step back and you rush forward. He strokes beneath your chin.Â
You shake your head desperately. Your mouth is trying to shape the word âyes.â
âYou do. You want this.â His back hits the register counter and he leans against it, spreading his legs wide. âYou want to taste me,â he says, his voice dipping lower.Â
You drop to your knees so fast it hurts, feeling the blooming sting of new bruises. It doesnât matter that youâre terrified. It doesnât matter that the thing bobbing in your face is like nothing youâve ever seen before. You open your mouth and suck the strange, pointed head without hesitation. The sea muse moans and your thighs quiver, inner muscles clenching on nothing. You have to hear it again.Â
âYou need it,â he purrs, thrusting shallowly. You bob your head, taking him deeper every time. He hits the back of your throat quickly, his cock eager and probing at the inside of your mouth. âYou need me to spill inside you. You need everything I have to give.â You moan and choke around his length. His hand rests on the back of your head, forcing you down further. His thrusts get harder and faster, crushing your nose against his slick abdomen.Â
Some part of you is screaming at the alien movements of his cock, how it nudges and prods and tries to snake down your throat, but you canât focus on that. He doesnât let you. Every grunt and moan, every hiss of praise, makes the fear even more distant.Â
âYou needâoh, yes,â he groans, clutching your head with both hands as he pounds into your mouth. âYou need to mate with me. You needâmm, suck on me, suck on the tipâfuck, you need my milt. I have so much and you need all of it.âÂ
You make a humiliating, needy sound when he suddenly pulls you off of his cock. It slips out of your mouth reluctantly, the tip sliding back and forth against your lips. He drags you to your feet by the forearm, shoving you against the register counter. He bends you over it, tearing at your clothes with his claws. You cum when he blows softly against your ear. Youâre still shivering, clawing mindlessly at the counter when he kisses and licks the shell, sliding his tongue into every little dip and groove.Â
âDo you want me?â he whispers. You hear a slick sound, a grunt, and then his hand is at your entrance. He uses the pads of his fingers but heâs not very careful. His claws prick your thighs as ass while he smears thick, warm globs between your legs. âHm? Do you want me?âÂ
âYes,â you sob. You arch your back and try to press your hips back against him. He makes a growling sound against your ear that makes your knees buckle, nipping the lobe playfully.Â
âYou want to be fucked?â One hand reaches around and roughly works your sex, spreading a warm, tingling sensation. âWant to be filled with milt?âÂ
âYes!âÂ
His cock slides along the curve of your ass, teasing you. Then it slithers down, sliding into just the right angle with the tip pushed against your entrance. âGood human,â he purrs, and your eyes roll back in your head. His tip presses inside and then heâs thrusting hard and fast without warning. More slime drips from his sheath and slides down his length, the tingling slickness easing his punishing rhythm. It wouldnât matter if the lubrication wasnât there. You canât do anything but lay there and gasp and meet his thrusts, needing his cock inside you more than you need to breathe.Â
Those sharp, grasping appendages hook around your thighs. You feel them lock into place, their grip tightening until youâre right up against the sea museâs body. His thrusts donât slow at all. If anything, heâs even rougher and faster, deep humping thrusts that make you tremble and scream. He keeps talking through all of it no matter how winded and breathless he gets, keeping you right on the precipice of orgasm after orgasm with filthy whispers and wet, open-mouthed kisses against your ear.Â
âSo tight,â he hisses. âYou feel so good, squeezing me like that. You want it so much. Iâm going to give you everything. Youâre going to be so fucking full.â His hips stutter, losing rhythm. You cum again just as a rush of warm wetness pulses inside you, spurting every time the sea muse thrusts. Thick, creamy liquid churns and foams at your entrance, a trickle dribbling down your thigh. You hear a few drops hit the floor under you. The sea muse rides out his orgasm with long, loud moans that send you over the edge again and again. He crushes you against the counter, hips rolling. One last, slow thrust fills you with another hot gush of his strange cum.Â
He breathes heavily. His hips sway while heâs still sheathed inside you and his cock curls just the right way to make you sob for mercy. âHm? You think weâre done?â he murmurs. âI told you. Itâs been a long time. I still have so much more to give you. And you want it, donât you? You need it?âÂ
âYes,â you say, your voice quivering and broken. The sea muse starts to fuck you again and all you can do is let him.
You donât know when it ends. It could be minutes, or hours, or days. The passage of time is measured in breaths and heartbeats and orgasm after orgasm. The floor is slick and sticky under you, a white puddle of milt steadily growing. You think he bites you but you donât know. It all feels good, especially when he tells you how perfect you are, how sweet and submissive, how well youâre milking his cock of everything heâs saved for this moment. He makes you ride him once, seated on the counter while he bounces you in his lap. He digs his claws into the meat of your ass and leaves marks.Â
You donât know who finds you. Someone else who works the pier, probably, too horrified and embarrassed for both of you to stick around. The Coast Guard sweeps the water but the sea muses are long gone, leaving nothing behind but the mangled leftovers of their frenzy. The bodies glisten in the sand, torn to shreds like a burst whale carcass. By sunrise, the flies and the seagulls are swarming. Youâre escorted to an ambulance with a blanket over your shoulders. The first person to look you in the eyes tells you, very quietly, that you might want to quit your job and consider moving inland.Â
âThose are mating marks,â he says. You donât know how he can possibly tell, given that theyâre everywhere. Jagged, oozing circles dot your shoulders, arms, thighs and back. âBecause theyâre at a very precise depth. Meant to scar, not to kill. That means itâs going to come back.â They tell you not to look at the water but you do, one last time, before you leave. You donât see anything. That doesnât mean anything. The waterâs deep and it seems to go on forever.
That night, in a hospital bed, you have a dream of someone singing to you. It sounds like the ocean filling your ears.
#rotpeach writes#goretober#original#slooooowly working my way through asks lol im just gonna do a couple at a time#thank you for all the kind words and comments im so glad other people are enjoying these as much as i am!
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wow such a beautiful wedding I'm so happy for them-
WHEN BABIES
Asdfefihgoeifhhghi
Uhhhh⊠tbd?
#ange_asks#dreamnoblade#this was kind of my reaction lol#thanks for this ask#it was super funny XD#my art
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can I just say ur art just makes my days when I need it? :p
The art of the trio just makes my heart melt a lot. Ur artstyle makes this even more better with how animated and expressive the art is! 11/10! :D
WHATTTTT THANK YOU SO MUUCHHHHH IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THHAAAATTT I love this trio so much as well, they're a joy to draw and I'm so glad to hear you like too!!
#THANK YOU FOR THE NICE WORDS BOUT MY ART TOO WAAAAGH#this was originally gonna be a simple little doodle of them drinking boba tea#but then i was like 'wellll it'd be a little silly if they were standing there in the void. ill give them a few buildings :^)'#then i added the buildings. then i was like 'hmmm maybe a bit more background details to define the setting...'#basically: lost control LOL#SERIOUSLY THOUGH AGAIN THANK YOU FOR THE KIND MESSAGE!!!!#ask!#art#thsc#the henry stickmin collection#thsc rupert price#thsc dave panpa#thsc johnny panzer#rupert drank his boba too fast btw ^
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Hello.
Please know that you're amazing.
The Undertale community is living a tough time right now, and I feel like the creators keeping it alive and standing don't get enough support.
You are part of that. Your art is amazing. I am not a commited fan of your work as in I haven't been here long and don't interact much, but I know plenty of people who are and that's literally all I need.
People love you and there will always be people thankful to you.
Have an awesome day <3
Thank you anon you're so sweet!! T Ï T )â„â„â„
It hasn't been easy for many creators lately, especially due to the group of people who spend all their time harassing creators and trying to harm them as much as possible to protect⊠non-existent fictional characters.
There are creators who can just block and report these people and simply continue with their lives, but others feel more affected by this and that it's normal, because we are human beings, we do exist.
It's very sad to see creators end up with their health affected, and have to leave from the fandom in order to heal the pain that the toxic people have inflicted on them.
It doesn't matter if you have 10 or 1 million followers. It doesn't matter if you have millions of people supporting you, the fact of getting bad words, lies, threats, and general bullshit day after day, is something that ends up affecting any human being mentally.
We all love fictional characters. But they don't exist, real people are what matters.
So please, I just ask you all to take care of real people.
Thank you for understanding this ÂŽâĄ`)
#Ask#Anonymous#Kao#I wrote a lot lol#Thank you anon â„#I know there are a lot of people who are too shy to interact with the people they admire#I am one of them lol#But it would be nice if you could leave kind messages#even if anonymous#to creators who are going through a bad time#Or just make a nice post on your tumblr/twitter/whatever and mention that person#Maybe drowning toxic comments with nice ones could help?#I don't know#I just wish I could know how to help in this situation
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I'm not sure if you'll accept divorced zukka song recs but I'd highly recommend listening to foolishly wrong - autoheart
ahhhh Yes!! love me some divorced zukka inspo and this is perfect?
You keep me up all night
I see the future, but we're not in it together
we'd end up alone in the end.
...
ouch <33 [ids in alt]
#thanks for the rec!!!#love me some song recs and divorced zukka? lovely#i was in bed and got the urge to draw this and got out of bed so you could say their ruined relationship is keeping me up at night as well#ive listened to stalker's tango by this artist but ive never heard this one. really good! love this voice and the vibe that i feel like is.#deranged? but like in a positive muscial way lol#kind of reminds me of will wood#mydoodles#asks#divorced zukka#song recs
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I headcanon No. 10 teasing Soshiro for his closeness with Konomi and giving him either good or bad dating advice.
I would really love it if No. 10 became an OkoHoshi shipper going forward. To paraphrase our dear Vice Captain,
it'd be hella funny
and there are just so many different routes you can take with it. So much room for comedy. Or other things depending on what aspect of the human-kaiju connection we focus on- the OkoHoshiNo10 potential is limitless!!
No. 10 probably wouldn't have a normal understanding of human attraction though, at least not at first. The only comparative desires he has to draw on are
To fight strong opponents (physical exertion and engaging with another body)
To eat said opponents (sating one's appetite)
This would inevitably lead to some misinterpretations on his part regarding any intimate feelings he picks up from Soshiro while the two are synced.
No. 10: You want to eat that tiny woman, Hoshina? Won't make much of a meal if you ask me. Hoshina: What? No?? What the hell are you- No. 10: Don't deny it! You clearly hunger for her. Hoshina: !!?! No, I- look, even if I did, it wouldn't be that kind of hunger- No. 10: What other kind is there!? Hoshina: ...We are not having this conversation. No. 10: Fine, fine... I'll just ask 'Okonogi-chan' about it next time she visi- Hoshina: NO.
But he does anyways, and Okonogi needs a drink afterwards.
#OkoHoshi#Okonogi x Hoshina#OkoHoshiNo10#kaiju no. 8#hoshina soshiro#okonogi konomi#kaiju no. 10#OT3#kind of???#I just want them to interact all the time forever lol#kn8 manga spoilers#random babbling#thanks for asking!
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