See, the thing is, Grian isn’t lying when he says that the snails aren’t his doing.
He gets why people are saying that; the timeline of him finally getting the stupid book and the snails emerging from the sea line up near-perfectly, as if they were another manic machination of his boredom. It’s also the fact that they just straight up came out of the sea, or at least should’ve- he swears up and down that the pink one shot down from the sky, he saw it with his own two eyes. But, considering he doesn’t control the sky, the pink snail cannot be his doing at the very least. And the teal one? The one that people are calling his snail? He just found it after a particularly stormy night, chilling on the docks, and he found it just so damn cute that he took it as a pet. Both of those aren’t Grian’s fault. They can’t be, by that logic.
But honestly, by now, he’s getting a little worried about the snails, in either case of his innocence with them. He’ll be the first to admit that he’s not the sanest person on the Hermitcraft server—he’s not sure who is, really, when everyone has their own things going on—particularly within the past few weeks, if the beard and book count as indication. His memory has been a little foggy for a while, so it very well could’ve been him putting snails everywhere, and he just flat-out forgot for one reason or another. Though, that doesn’t seem likely- he’s strong, but not strong enough to haul a giant snail out of the sea and onto a literal freight train, nor does he have the patience to meticulously choose snails that are sturdy enough to replace the wheels. That had to be a meticulous and pre-planned process, something Grian doesn’t really have the time for.
This leaves him with three conclusions: if it is him behind the snail acts, he’s not the only thing occupying his body. If it isn’t, well, there’s still something causing the snails to make their way through the works of Magic Mountain, and it certainly isn’t another hermit, based on their reactions. If it’s a mix of both—considering he’s found himself freeing snails from the cages Scar put them in without remembering how he got there—then the snails aren’t so cute anymore, and Grian’s just about ready to—
To—
He’s just—
Where was he?
Right. The snails. They’re not his doing, pinky promise. Grian got his book, he filled the prophecy, and he’s stopped fishing like it’s his last day on earth. The bit is over. He’s moved on- why would he beat a dead horse into the ground like that? Sure, he can still smell rot wafting from the river, but he’s Gem’s neighbor, and she’s got that whole fish horror thing going on, so it very well could be her. Nevermind the fact that they were eating her lighthouse, and she wouldn't do that to her own hard work. And sure, she came to him when a snail chose her--the way he said it would--but she was probably under the assumption that it was his, just like everyone else. It wasn’t. He’s sure it wasn’t.
The snails would explain his white-hot anger at Scar’s little cooking prank; the way Grian’s skin felt like it was burning every time he looked at the pan. How, despite knowing that his friend was just messing with him, every instinct was telling him to kill him where he stood, no mercy. How it felt like the same seething rage he felt when Scar had fished up a copy of the book weeks prior, and he’d done that very thing. And maybe, just maybe, it would explain how sometimes, on the nights where his dreams are the most vivid and gross, he wakes up in the Chamber, positioned as if in a prayer.
But if it is…
A streak of fear runs up his spine. The weather, despite his dedication to the sea released, is still stormy and grey. The water is still murky and washing slime up onto his shores. The dreams of the book haven’t stopped, despite him clutching it like a rosary on even good days. The whispers of the wind are an angry, menacing thing in his ear. He thought it would be over once he got what he wanted. He thought it would be enough to satisfy whatever the ocean needed from him.
There is a rod in his hands, he realizes. He throws it as far away as he can. It lands next to a clump of snails, who all turn to look at him with an otherworldly menace in their pitch black eyes.
thigh riding with carmy hi yes hello so yeah and haha yea lol
OMG CRISTINA-
This. I think about this A LOT ( a lot more now thanks to the Calvin Klein ad-)
Like oh my goddd. Him in the office way after hours stressing out over paperwork that he’s put off for weeks now. You walk in ( for story purposes… you’re wearing skirt), and he’s still glued to the paper work so you start kissing on his neck and running your hands through his hair. He stops you… the first time. “Baby- I gotta finish this shit. Can you sit down and wait for a minute? I’ll be done soon and we can go home.”
And yeah. Sure. You go and sit down the in seat next to him, but only for like 5 minutes max. After that you gently lean in to whisper in his ear, knowing how to distract him. “Need you Carm. The paperwork can wait.” You then dip down to nibble at his collarbone. His hand is knuckle white around the pen he’s holding.
“Can’t be a good girl for 5 minutes can you? Fucking hell- fine. Sit on my thigh.” Oh you practically jump into his lap. Your skirt bunches around your hips when you try and straddle his waist in the chair. He stops you, though before you can wrap your legs around him. “No. My thigh. You’re going to get yourself off on my thigh while I sit here and finish this paperwork. Then maybe, maybe, I’ll fuck you when we get home. Got it?”
“Y-yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir.” So with a reddened face you straddle one of his thighs. Your skirt bunches so that your soaked underwear makes contact with the rough denim he’s wearing. You gasp at the contact, lighting starting to grind your hips.
You get desperate real fucking quick, speeding up your movements and chasing your orgasm. Carmy loses focus on his paperwork the moment he feels you start to soak through his jeans. From then on, his watching you intently as your hips move. “Atta girl, just like that.” He praises.
He can’t take his eyes off of you. Your cheeks flush and embarrassment at the situation overwhelms you; you needed him so bad that his thigh was good enough for you. You hide your face in his neck to escape his gaze and muffle your moans. It feels so good- god he feels so good. Your hips speed up as you begin to lose your self in pleasure.
That doesn’t last long. Carmy’s hand grips the hair on the nape of your neck to move your head so that your eyes meet his once again. “Keep those pretty eyes on me. Wanna see the look on your face when you come for me.”
You’re close. So unbelievably close. His hands are on your hips, assisting in your movements. “Come on baby. I’ve got you. So fucking pretty falling apart on me like this-“ and with that last bit of praise you come, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. “Good job. Such a good girl for me. Now can you sit there and be patient while I finish this?”
You lean into him, nodding into his neck in response. In all honesty you fall asleep on his shoulder while he finishes up, and like the sweet boyfriend he is, he carries you back to the car to take you home <3
Regulus: listen sir, if you want to get onto this boat you should know that there are already six people here. One of them is screaming in the back, another is passed out and half falling out, two of them are rowing backwards, one of them is desperately rowing and wishing he could stick his head into the water and drown and the other is fucking critising everything he is doing. So if you want to pursue this conversation and get on this boat, you're fucking rowing
Slughorn: ...lovely to have you back in class, Mr Black
You said hazbin reqjests??!? Someone helping Lucifer preen those huge lovely wings?
Im big into raidoapple atm but whoever is your fav character helping the poor old man! He has such big wings and such short tiny person arms!
Sorry if someone else has asked this lol
I’M STILL ALIVE—so HERE. TAKE IT. EAT IT, BURN IT, SMITE IT just take it off my hands--
Had to send get this out so I could start posting again; minor motivation block after life did its thing.
I read “Just Buisness” by rollingchibi for some inspiration—because got I could not figure out how how depict these two–Alastor had imitated (replayed?) Charlie’s voice so I was like “huh. HMMMMMM.”
Just want to Clarify that’s what that is on pg. 1 & pg. 2