#aquatic/water monster imagines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ozzgin · 25 days

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Yandere! Sea Monster x Reader

In the spirit of Mermay, I come to you with a slightly different approach: an octopus hybrid, dwelling in the dark depths of ancient waters. :) Hopefully close enough to the sea monster you imagined, @wally0117

Content: gender neutral reader, male yandere, monster romance, reader likes sharks (a lot); inspired by The Shape of Water and My Octopus Teacher; photo from Whalebone Magazine

He’s always been aware of humans, naturally. Observed them from the beginnings of time, from the very first rudimentary attempt of a boat that crossed his waters. Though he can only guess how these creatures exist, how they breathe, how they move. What arrives in his depths is always a corpse of some sort. Bloated, decaying carcasses, rarely intact, whether chipped by fish or by time. Everything else is left to his imagination.

Until today. The fish are restless, the currents are stronger. Something must be happening above, stringing him along curiously. His many legs sway in tandem, opening and closing, as he investigates the source of interest. His pale white eyes narrow to a mere squint, unused to the light of the surface levels. At last, he finds it: a human.

Yet this one is unusual. Intact - save for the bleeding wound - and unlike the washed-out, cadaveric blue tint he’s normally accustomed to. He notices a twitch of the limb and it dawns on him: this one is still alive.

You wake up with a violent cough, thrusting out the leftover liquid that had invaded your lungs earlier. You clearly remember drowning, so how did you end up on shore again? The answer reveals itself rather quickly: a monstrous creature, albeit humanoid for the most part. The upper half resembles a man, but the torso ends in thick, enormous tentacles, now flopped onto the sand, surrounding your body. You search for the creature’s face, framed by translucent tendrils that seem to replace what you’d expect as hair.

“Thank you”. He scans your features and remains silent. Does he even understand human speech? After a moment of consideration, he looks ahead, surveying the water, then returns to you, giving you a nudge. He most likely wants to know how you ended up in that situation to begin with. “That’s, well…”

Conveniently enough, the monster has brought you back to your little camp, so you reach for your backpack and pull out a book. Of course, no words can ever replace the image itself. With renewed enthusiasm, you open your encyclopedia and turn it towards the man, showing him a photo of a sand tiger shark, tapping on it excitedly. “I was looking for sharks!”

Ever since the bizarre, life-saving encounter, you’ve been returning to the same spot most days. And without exception, the monster will be waiting for you in one of the neighboring caves. Judging by the pellucid, pale skin and his reluctance to be in the light, you guessed early on that he might be a creature of the depths.

One that has been around for a long time, it seems. Once he understood your interest in sharks and other aquatic animals, he developed a liking to play guide for you, silently touring you through forests of kelp, hidden caves, labyrinths of reefs and hills. He knows where the animals linger, and they don't scurry away when you approach. You've never dreamed of being so close to them, staring into their eyes and tracing their fins as they swim past you, unbothered and relaxed. The monster will gaze at you from a distance, amused by your passion.

On ground, you’ve begun your own little experiment: can the octopus creature learn sign language? You didn’t need long to discover how intelligent he is, mimicking your gestures with flawless ease, instantly memorizing the meanings, the connections, the implications. He seems to be terribly delighted by this newfound tool of communication, often asking you questions with earnest curiosity.

Ah, yes, the questions. It makes sense that he’d want to know more about humans, though his interrogations are rather…particular. Specific. It’s less about humans as a whole, and more about you. How long have you been swimming here? How deep can you actually swim, with or without aid? Might you have a family waiting for you back home? A mate, perchance? No? Interesting.

"My vacation will end soon", you sign with pursed lips. He tilts his head. "Leaving?" his webbed hands gesture, somewhat uneasy. You nod. You can discern a glint of melancholy in his eyes. Eventually, he resumes: "Would you like to see my home?" Your eyebrows raise in surprise. His home? Down there? Was such a thing even achievable for a human like you?

The plump suckers attach themselves to your skin, one resting over your mouth. "Do you trust me?" You cast one final glance over the underwater abyss, a black hole trapping all light and matter. You shake your head in approval. Without hesitation, he plunges over the cliff, pulling you after him and into the yawning void of darkness. His form glows eerily, and his movement is swift and elegant. You can tell this is his land, his territory. You would've been dead a long time ago.

He releases you on the wet stone, inside the air pocket of a cave. You need a few moments to overcome the wave of claustrophobia pressing against your lungs. As you catch your breath, you recall your long path from the surface. It would be impossible to make it back out again without your friend. A cold shiver runs across your spine. "Have a break, and I'll show you everything else afterwards", he gestures with a smile. "How long will it take? I don't want to walk back at night", you explain.

Silence. You stare into his empty orbs, awaiting a reaction. There's not a sound, not a gust of wind, not a shred of light. "You're not going back", he finally answers.

You see, he's done a fair amount of research himself. He doesn't need an encyclopedia to figure you out: how you breathe, how you move, how you exist. In fact, he is rather confident in his ways of helping you adapt to a life spent together. He would've never brought you down here if he wasn't certain of your survival. His grin widens in anticipation, a strange warmth enveloping his innards at the mere thought of it: a future with you in it, right here. However, one question remains, a cheeky, perverted detail that has been on his mind from the moment he met you, yet he could never investigate it properly.

How do humans mate?

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2kmps · 1 month

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DARK POOL

aquatic monster x reader | 18+ | 2.8k

story summary; your granduncle explains that the noises at the bottom of the lighthouse and the missing chunk out of his leg are from swimming rats. you let him think you're a fool.

story warnings; some graphic depictions that some may consider gory, mentions of biting, mentions of rats, creature in captivity, explicit sexual content, double penetration (not safe), prose + detail heavy, implied breeding, not proofread.

if you enjoyed it, please reblog + interact!!

Granduncle told you that the rats in Cape Tellis liked to swim and when they were in search of food, they didn't care how long they'd have to paddle through the water to find it. Some would simply drift with the current for days; black-gray fur rotted off, skin peeled off bone, little faces disfigured by sea and salt, but they would keep going until their bodies nudged the rust-red walls of the lighthouse and found the energy to scale upward to a window and squeeze inside.

He mentioned this anytime you had something to say about the ruckus down in the basement—sometimes scratching, sometimes powerful, erratic thuds that you felt pulse through the floorboards, through the rubber soles covering your feet, and into your skin. That place was sealed behind a rusted metal frame and door, deadbolted and locked with a key he always carried on a chain through a belt loop.

It always jangled when he walked because he had a limp so bad that his entire leg always dragged a pace behind him and took a great amount of effort to haul forward. When you had asked of it, as memory dictated a handful of years prior he didn't have such trouble, he first claimed it had been a bad sinus infection that got into his brain and disrupted something neurologically. In another instance where he had stopped for a third time on an evening stroll together, he had said he scuffed with one of Cape Tellis’ formidable rats and the mangy bastard had won and taken a chunk of meat out of him before scuttling back into the walls.

“Just ignore it, it's normal that they're active this time of year,” he was saying while scraping fried eggs out of a pan onto your plate. Meanwhile, you winced to the usual commotion downstairs. “They get real flighty this time of year. The rats do. They get frisky and chase each other all around. I don't know nothin' about them besides being persistent, ugly things, but it may well be their special season.”

You ripped a sharp edge in your toast and prodded the egg yolk until the sunny orb burst, oozing out across your plate before you could scoop it all up in the bread.

“How long does it take for the rats to go away?” you asked with some interest in his answer, if for no other reason to know what sort of yarn he'd spin next. The bread was buttered, the eggs unseasoned, but you ate it all anyway while watching him. “Are they permanent residents or do they come and go? You must be feeding them if they stay here.”

Granduncle took a long time to situate his bad leg under the table, longer to arrange his silverware and the direction of his food. “Oh, they have no interest in leaving, I don't think. If they really wanted to, I imagine they would've jumped back into the water and swam somewhere else.”

Each time the noises rose up between the wood slats under your feet during breakfast, granduncle told you not to worry about it, but you quieted every sound in your head to better hear rattling metal, reverberations of some sort—like having a man’s deep, anguished moan pressed right against your ribs. You weren't sure what you were looking for when you listened, only that you knew they were rats.

Granduncle looked at you, his appetite pushed away towards the center of the table with his plate. “Let's go for a walk, yes? The rain won't come back for a few hours.”

When you did walk after a meal, granduncle would often have to lie down with his dead leg propped up on a short stack of pillows for a long while. It became something of a habit of yours to exert him too much after dinner, forcing him to keep up with your youthfulness—your merry prances and unburdened soul.

For what it was worth, he did the best he could to never be a hindrance. He didn't seem to fully understand his own limitations either, making it quite a simple thing to steal the key from his belt loop while he slept—deep and silent, so much so that you needed to drop a tissue over his face from make sure he was still breathing—and unfasten the lock to descend a set of slick, stone stairs.

There wasn’t much to at the bottom; a space half-flooded from seasonal rains raising the sea-level, old pieces of ship equipment hanging like ornamentation, an old folding chair that had yet to rust despite damp air, and a large hole in the ground that was dark like the throat of a nightmare envisioned in the most precious hours of night.

You held a plate of raw meat, freshly thawed from the freezer, outstretched with a flickering lantern in your other hand. Anywhere else, you'd have just brought a flashlight—but, he didn't like the bright lights, had ripped the last one out of your hands and smashed it against the wall. Oil lanterns were better tolerated, but he still seemed to cower from the gentle flickers.

So, you placed the meat on the seat of the folding chair and walked closer to the hole, wading a hand through seawater until touching braids of cold metal, chains pulled taut as though weighted down by an anchor. You gave the closest one a tug, always with the same caution as a child gripping his mother's clothes in uncertain times, and backed away.

He never made noise when he surfaced, always frightfully quiet, only indicated by a trail of bubbles that followed after where he roamed underwater. The first thing to emerge was a dorsal fin flared proudly from the middle of his head until midway in the deepest curve of his back. His eyes were on you, abysmal black things with a luster you likened to a landbound fish, and skin and scales that moved stiffly with his facial movements.

“You,” said the creature, toneless and in a voice far too raspy and deep to have an equal match amongst human men. “You have come. You are here.”

Months ago, he hadn't been capable of simple speech such as this. The noises he made were incompatible to anything you had ever heard—perhaps mere vocalizations he utilized underwater, possibly something long gone and archaic—but he had started mimicking you when you'd speak, and eventually you started slowing down, giving him the time to feel how the sounds vibrated in his own throat.

“I brought you food, again.” You gestured towards the seat with raw meat with your lantern, prompting his passing glance of interest before he was back on you. “Not hungry? He usually doesn’t feed you that well. I haven't been down here in a week or so, so I figured you'd be ready to scarf it down.”

“No.”

He came closer and the size of him grew, a towering figure with strong, broad-shoulders and a chest built to withstand the friction of the sea he used to own. His face, although hidden in darkness and flickering shadow cast from your lantern, gleamed as the light struck his iridescent scales. The shape of his lips were human-like yet taut, helping to comfortably fit his sharp teeth inside his mouth.

You'd wondered at times what exactly he was, what your granduncle believed him to be and feared so much to hide him away, chained to a wall. You fantasized that he could be the lost prince of some underwater civilization, or the offspring of several thousands of years of evolution between humans and something else.

He never seemed to understand you when you asked him what he was.

“Come,” his reach was limited by the chains that bound his limbs, keeping him shy of touching your body. “Come to me.”

With the lantern set aside, a distance you hoped wouldn't turn him petulant, you walked in his arms and the shackles and made home there as he surrounded you. His embrace was not the sort you could escape, nor was the kiss he pressed against your mouth.

There were parts of him you were too scared to touch, where his scales were like serrated teeth and he had much less control to retract at will like the dorsal find along his back. His lips were smooth and cold, however, a safe place for you to be on his body along with the hard flesh on his chest.

He pushed himself into your touch as your fingertips traced the shape of his torso, rose with the sprawl of his breasts and shoulders, molded into the ridges of his lower abdomen that you felt pulse and tense the further downward you roamed.

The sheath around his groin had swelled significantly and seemed to twitch when you smoothed your hand across it, kneading it gently to see what would come of doing so. You'd seen this only once before several months ago, a time where you'd been more frightened of him and fled from the basement for weeks when he'd acted more aggressive than usual.

It was one of the many things he had taken notice of that were perceived negatively—with fear and distance and shutting him away in this deep dark until you found the courage to feed him again, because your uncle was petrified along with being restricted in his ability to navigate the stairs with his lame leg.

So, he had learned to behave at the worst of times to keep food supplied, for you to stay wrapped up in him like this and so curious to challenge the extent of his self-restraint.

His kiss had grown full-bodied and restless and gone elsewhere on your body to a great expanse of skin. His face nuzzled into the fabric hiding your warmth from him, teeth tearing and fraying the threads that kept your clothes together until you stopped him.

“Stop—wait, wait, wait.” You walked back out of his arms once he was able to recognize the words. He reached for you despite the clattering bonds around his wrist, but you took your time to shuck the clothes from your body and fold them.

Once he had you back, he led you to the edge of the pool of endless depths and sank down inside of it. Your toes touched the very edge of darkness, stirring a rabble of butterflies in your gut that did not dissipate even once he resurfaced.

“Sit.” He gestured right at where you stood. “Sit down.”

The idea of having any part of your body submerged in the black water left you with little desire in continuing this, but you obeyed and slowly lowered your rear to the rim of the pool, legs speckled by goose pimples as the cold water gripped up to the inside of your thighs.

“Yes, good.” He was close enough to push your thighs wide apart and stick his tongue inside of you. You took in a great sucking breath, startled from the suddenness of it and the long, articulate appendage massaging a part of you in a way no one ever had before.

You leaned back on your arms when they weakened and shook from the sensations, eyes flicking towards the drab ceiling, wondering just how far under the living quarters of the lighthouse you actually were and whether granduncle would hear any lewd sounds that were beginning to hum in your throat.

“Keep going.” He said when you moaned, tongue retracted from your body to mimic the ministrations you made with your hand and fingers while you stroked yourself. “Keep doing it.”

He nudged your hand away to put his mouth over that stimulated spot instead, sucking and licking along you with such fervor that you dissolved into hard pants and whimpers, tempted to close your thighs around his head and push him away as the tight warmth inside of you flushed out with a kaleidoscopic burst of color and cool air following the trail of something slowly oozing out of you.

It took a second orgasm and chanting turned to cries to get him off of you. That brief respite ended when he took you by the waist and dragged you into the pool with him. By that point, you were too far spent to have anything but unshakeable indifference to the depths and the cold.

His kiss was as it had been before, rough and restless, forceful in a way that left you malleable and melting against him. Even when he had your front wedged between the rim of the pool and his chest, you couldn't bring yourself to react much.

You felt his thighs mold to the back of yours before the slim tip of his cock pushed into you, the girth of it thickening considerably at the base. The friction of the water wasn't an obstacle for him to fuck into you with greedy thrusts that threw your hips forward, knocking skin and bone against the wall of the pool.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh—” the ridges of his cock were an unusual feeling, catching your walls in spots, spreading you wider when he'd withdraw part way and plunge back inside. “Oh, shit—feels good. Harder. Harder. Harder!”

There was truly never any way to know how much he understood when you said it, something called into question when his thrusts slowed to a stop, but he stayed hard inside of you. For a moment, the water settled along with your heavy breaths and blood gushing through your ears.

Things slowly came back into focus—the dancing lantern light, the room temperature meat, the wicked water in which you were immersed to the waist while the rest of you was braced by him.

He shifted behind you, adjusting his thighs so yours went even wider. Before you could ask the things you wanted to, a new sensation stole your breath—the swollen head of a second cock, different in shape and size from the first, pushed into you and lay flush atop the other.

“Don't—don’t move.” You were struggling to do the same thing with such an enormous stretch you'd never had to accommodate before. Tension built in your throat, whether a sob or a scream or your own anxiety, and stayed there to cinch your voice into silence.

He soothed you with lips and teeth all over your flesh; the back of your neck, the cartilage of your ears and the underside of your jawbone. His large hands left the shelf of your hips and felt along your front side, nipples, chest, stomach, and groin where he tried to recreate the same pleasure on you now as you had done for yourself earlier.

“Good?” He nested his cocks deeper when he heard you moan. The pain of it was beginning to subside, but the strangeness of it remained. “Is it good?”

"Just—just don't hurt me.”

His hands were back on your hips to keep you seated on his thighs while he thrust into you. It wasn't as easy for him to move as it was before, perhaps realizing the limitations of a human companion, but continued in snappy pulses that made the water lap at the skin on your back and turned your thoughts into senseless, garbled things.

Soon enough, you were riding a sloppy, savage rhythm to which you had no control of whatsoever as he chased his end. In moments where he seemed to regress into a natural state, almost animalistic in the way he rutted into you and buried his cocks, one would slip out and go forgotten for a time. The length of it glided against your groin, a smooth motion underwater that prodded your sore spots before he was able to fit it back into place with the other.

Amid your luscious sounds were those of his own; labored, air-sucking rasps that rumbled from places more than just his throat. They were probably never meant to be heard above the surface of water, just as he didn't belong fucking a human while being chained to a wall.

You thought about that fact while the last thrusts he took seated his cocks so deep that you ached, hard surges of warmth flooding your insides in a way unexpectedly delightful. He clung to you with his arms and shackles even well after he had emptied himself in your body and retracted both cocks into their sheath.

After a while, he hoisted you out of the water and followed you to retrieve your clothes. He stopped short of the chains pulling in the wall, watching while you wiped away the remnants of him oozing down the backs of your thighs and redressed.

“Don't go.” He kissed you and let his cold lips linger over yours. “Stay here.”

You returned the affection as endlessly as he gave it, only thinking that sunrise would soon come to pull you apart.

a/n: not my best work, but hopefully passable. it's really helpful when y'all reblog, so please do so!!!

I don't really have any comments on this because I'm starting over from zero on the long-fic of the aquatic monster story bc I hated what I had lmao.

anyway, please keep in mind that is a concept piece. chances are that none of this will be present in the actual long-fic. this just helps me to explore ideas and familiarize myself with characters.

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another-lost-mc · 7 months

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candy prompts: leviathan + spicy + spooky

leviathan is your biggest fan. he doesn't realize that you're his biggest fan too.

pairing: leviathan x siren!gn!reader

content: nsfw. monster!au (reader is a siren). leviathan has two cocks. implied oral sex (levi receiving).

word count: 1k omg how did this happen

a/n: I like to imagine that aquatic races of the devildom worship and totally want to bang the grand admiral.

This isn't the way tonight's backstage meet & greet with one of his favourite idols was supposed to go.

Levi bought the most exclusive package as soon as the pre-sale link arrived in his Dmail. On the day of the concert, he put on a t-shirt featuring your logo, and he even shrugged on the new zip-up hoodie that he bought in the VIP section before the show. He waited in line with the other backstage pass holders so he could get an autograph and photo with you. Some of the lust demons in line ahead of him were radiating pheromones so strongly that it made his mind groggy, and he shook his head to dissipate the fog of giddy excitement that permeated the air around him.

When it was finally his turn to see you, the other fans had already been escorted away by security. He glanced at you nervously from under the hood he pulled over his head to conceal his identity; it wasn't a secret that the Avatar of Envy was a fan of Devildom's top idols, but he didn't like the unwanted attention from randoms in the crowd.

He handed you his poster and backstage pass to sign and he hoped the tremor in his hands wasn't too noticeable. The black marker squeaked against the thick paper and plastic. You smiled at all your other fans earlier, but even from his place at the back of the line, Levi thought your smile looked forced and insincere. He would know-he's forced that same expression on his own face countless times.

"Th-thanks," he mumbled when you handed him his autographed merch. He cradled them delicately in his arms so that they wouldn't get wrinkled or torn.

"Fans can get a selfie too," you reminded him with a gentle smile. "But maybe we can find a nicer backdrop than this grungy hallway. What do you say?"

Levi glanced around nervously. The security crew that loitered in the area earlier had vanished. There was something enticing about the teasing glint in your eyes but he blinked and the look was gone. He took a deep breath, not realizing how close he was standing to you. When did you get so close? The scent of your fragrance and sweat was staggering and he forced himself to stand still and avoid the temptation to lean even closer. He hesitated for only a moment before nodding.

You beamed wildly and grabbed his hand; he gulped as your fangs tipped over the curve of your lips. "Perfect," you purred before leading him down a dark hallway. "My dressing room is this way."

You were kind enough to take his precious memorabilia and set them down safely before shoving him against your dressing room door. Your lips crashed against his while your hands reached into his sweat-slicked hair. You slid the hood down and cradled his jaw so you could tease the skin of his neck with your fingernails. He broke the kiss with a gasp, and you didn't hesitate to slip your tongue into his mouth and flick it against his before pulling back with a very satisfied smirk.

"I recognized you the moment you stood in line," you admitted, voice quivering with excitement, glassy-eyed and pupils blown wide. "The Avatar of Envy, the Grand Admiral himself, coming to see me perform? I'm flattered."

Levi stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time. Maybe he was seeing the real you for the first time, the version none of your other fans knew existed. In the privacy of your dressing room you could finally be yourself. The magic that concealed your oceanic heritage slid off you like a veil and revealed your secrets to the demon you worshipped like a god. He was entranced. When he licked his lips to chase the taste of your kiss, it reminded him of salt water and the ocean breeze.

You preened under his curious scrutiny, satisfied that he was captivated by you as much as you were of him. When you realized you had his silent approval to continue, you unzipped his sweater and pushed it down his arms. It fell into a heap on the floor at his feet, but he didn't seem to care.

By the time you settled on your knees before him, the delicate pattern of pearlescent scales replaced your once-smooth skin and frilly gills appeared on the sides of your neck. You gazed at him innocently, your third eyelid blinking quickly over your lovestruck eyes as you nuzzled against the bulge in his jeans. Dainty fingers with long nails flicked open the button at his waistband. You bit your bottom lip between rows of jagged teeth and eagerly tugged down the short zipper next. Both his cocks sprung free when you slid his boxers down. He was panting heavily above you, and you licked your lips with a forked tongue, smirking when his eyes followed the movement.

"I've wanted to meet you in person for so long, sir," you whispered reverently. His cocks twitched when your lips imbued his title with just a hint of lust, and you couldn't resist the urge to touch him anymore. You kissed the tip of one of his cocks and smeared precum across your mouth with a satisfied hum, lapping at the salty taste as your mouth watered, eager for another taste. One of your hands curled delicately around the other cock and squeezed him lightly in your grip. He moaned loudly when your webbed fingers began stroking him in a soft, slick rhythm.

"I think I might be your biggest fan," you confessed in a breathy whisper before closing your eyes and finally taking his cock into your mouth.

read more: halloween 2023 masterlist || obey me masterlist

#obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me leviathan x reader #leviathan x reader #leviathan smut #obey me smut #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader #cw monsterfucking #trick or treat 2023

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hymnism · 2 months

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release the list

(i feel like i should mention these are all games ive personally played so if any of these make you go "why isn't [GAME] on here it's probably cuz i haven't played it. anyway)

(obligatory mention to hades/disco elysium/omori since they're some of my favorite games but im sure everyone already knows about them. they are lovely games and you should play them 👍)

darkest dungeon ($25) - turn based roguelike where you recruit mercenaries and send them on dungeon explorations and make sure they don't die of stress or starvation alongside the regular monster attacks. notoriously difficult. imagine bloodborne but turn based

ftl: faster than light ($10)- real time roguelike where you control a small crew and pilot a spaceship on the run from a rebel fleet. manage power and weapons on your own ship while targeting critical systems on the enemy

loop hero ($15)- a roguelike where your character will automatically walk in a loop while you use cards to add terrain with different effects such as spawning monsters to give you loot or increasing your healing. very unique with a beautiful pixel artstyle and banger soundtrack

moonlighter ($20)- a roguelike rpg where you go dungeon diving and try to bring back as much loot as you can so that you can sell it in your shop

shadows of doubt ($20)- early access. a first person sandbox detective simulator where each case is procedurally generated. randomly generates a town with npcs that all have names and addresses and relationships. put together clues from a crime scene and try to catch a killer before they strike again. work odd jobs between cases to keep yourself fed and housed

ultrakill ($25) fast paced first person shooter with a style system ala devil may cry. you play as a robot fighting through the layers of hell. mankind is dead. blood is fuel. hell is full

crypt of the necrodancer ($15)- a rhythm based roguelike dungeon crawler where you and your enemies are only allowed to move on beat. banger soundtrack goes without saying

everhood ($10)- a rhythm based rpg where you play as a red doll who had their arm stolen and is trying to get it back. battles involve moving between 5 lanes to avoid enemy attacks. if you like undertale you'll like this

spiritfarer ($30)- management and adventure game where you play as a spiritfarer who needs to care for spirits on her boat before leading them into the afterlife. incredibly charming and touching game. you will cry

let's school ($20)- management sim where you build and manage a school and help students graduate by setting up different courses. addicting and has a very cute artstyle

let's build a zoo ($20)- management sim where you. well where you build a zoo. a very silly game that includes a morality system where you can choose to be eco friendly and help repopulate endangered species or you can exploit your animals for their meat and produce. also has an animal splicing mechanic. haven't you ever wanted to make a giraffe with a duck head

the wandering village ($25)- early access. a city builder with the twist that you live on the back of a giant wandering beast named onbu. you help care for onbu as he wanders though different biomes that force you to adjust your resource production as some things become unavailable (such as water in a desert)

frostpunk ($30) a survival city builder where you build around a central core and try to prevent everyone from freezing to death in progressively colder temperatures

monster sanctuary ($20)- a metroidvania style creature collector with a unique combo meter that will continue to build and increase your damage based on the number of "hits" you can perform (healing buffs and shields also count as hits) and each monster has different skill trees that you can upgrade and customize

coral island ($30)- farming life sim with a unique underwater area where you can live and farm and raise aquatic plants and animals. you work to help restore the island after and oil spill ruined the surrounding ocean. i should mention that although this game is technically not in early access it is still unfinished and missing large chunks of gameplay/interactions/story. however there is still a healthy amount of content and is still a fun game as it is

apico ($20)- a beekeeping sim where you keep bees to make and sell honey while also breeding and releasing them to help restore their numbers in the wild

spirittea ($20)- a management and life sim where you manage a bathhouse for ghosts and help the townsfolk who think they're haunted (they're right). basically a cross between stardew valley and spirited away

cloud meadow ($20)- early access. this is a porn game ⚠️ a farming sim where instead of regular animals you have anthro characters and you can breed them either yourself or with each other and have them help in combat or on your farm. very cute artstyle and amazing animation work

#looking for a new game ask sunny if their recommendation is a roguelike or management sim i laugh and say it's a good game sir look inside #it's a roguelike #asks #game recs

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tathrin · 20 days

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Mermaid Legolas. Go!

Oh shit. Calling me out right away, okay let's see...!

Just gonna steal the opening line from my current chapter of the sadfic amnesiac Legolas don't mind me la la la.

Dwarves, of course, do not like open water. By all rights, Gimli should never have met any mer, let alone one from the deeps of Mirkshore Reef. But a good dwarf never turns down his friends when they need help, either, so when an old friend of Gimli's father sent to Erebor's smithies for help with emergency repairs after a shipwreck that had left one of his merchant vessels beached in some distant cove, someone had to answer Bilbo's plea—and Glóin was far too old to go to sea at his age.

Gimli, on the other hand, was ripe for an adventure. Indeed, it was hard for him to tell whether it was trepidation making him shiver as the boat that was to take them to the wreck sailed out of the harbor, or excitement. A day later, when they sailed through a period of terrible swells and Gimli spent hours being seasick over the rail, it was easy to identify the feeling as nausea. But eventually, he found his sea-legs, and his stomach settled.

By the time they arrived in the cove where The Fellowship was beached, Gimli was almost enjoying himself. Bilbo's nephew and his young friends had proved to be very enjoyable company, and the ship's captain—an enigmatic fellow who went only by the ridiculous name of "Strider"—was actually quite jocular once one broke through his wary exterior, and the best thing about sailing on Hobbit-owned vessels was how generously appointed their larders always were.

With a mug of rum in one hand, and a cheerful song playing on squeezebox and harmonica across the deck courtesy masters Meriadoc and Peregrin, it was hard to feel anything but lighthearted, even when the ship lurched down the side of a wave and left Gimli stumbling. (The rum may have been a contributing factor there.) Even with the ever-present threat of a watery grave sitting there just off the bow, Gimli found that he was enjoying himself thoroughly.

Once they reached the cove and the wreck and the actual work began, there was less time for play, but more solid (if sandy) land underfoot, and Gimli found that perfectly enjoyable too, for a dwarf is never more at home than in a smithy—even if in this case, his "smithy" was an open-air forge jury-rigged on the edge of a beach, with earnest but ignorant Hobbits for his assistants, and a half-dozen carpenters from Bree who could hardly stop gawking at his work long enough to do their own.

Everything was, Gimli had to admit, going very well indeed...

And then came the eyes in the water.

At first it was easy to convince himself that he was only imagining things. The sun was getting to him, and he wasn't used to sleeping in a bunk that swayed with every wave, and he probably hadn't drunk enough water. The coconuts they had gathered yesterday might not have been fully ripe, either, and no doubt he shouldn't have drunk more than one of them. And perhaps roasted plantains did not agree with a dwarven stomach. And then there were all the stories the Hobbits told over the nightly campfires, each one more outlandish and unbelievable than the last...

But the eyes didn't go away, no matter how logically Gimli explained to himself that they weren't really there. No matter how many times he repeated to himself that there was no such thing as merfolk or sea monsters outside of stories, and so of course he couldn't be seeing anything real. But real or not, there seemed to be more of them each night, gleaming in the water like fallen stars.

Watching him.

Gimli found himself jumping and twitching at every stray shadow as evening crept across the beachhead, dropping his tools and fumbling the rods when he set them in to heat and tripping over the bellows. Every time he turned around, the number of watching eyes seemed to have doubled.

"It's only aquatic phosphorescence, Gimli!" Frodo assured him, laughing. "It's a perfectly natural phenomenon, nothing to worry about at all."

"I'm not worried," Gimli lied, and fished his wrench out of the sand. "Not worried at all."

But the eyes didn't seem to care about his assurances. They stayed, gleaming in the darkening water, watching him as the moon rose over the waves like a silver coin and the real stars came out to dance across the skies. They stayed, and watched. And Gimli shivered, and looked away, and pretended not to see them.

The days passed, and slowly the great gaping hole in the side of the ship drew closed, and Gimli's nails and fasteners and hatch-rails and winches and halyard-blocks were set into place, and the work of the forge grew slower. And still the eyes remained.

Watching.

There was a full moon overhead on the night when Gimli sat nodding in the bow of their little dingy, idly turning his favorite hammer over in his hands as the sailors rowed the last of the carpenters back to The Prancing Pony. Dinner that night had been held on the beach, of course, because it was much more pleasant to cook and eat there than in the cramped galley aboardship, but they all went back to The Pony to sleep, rather than going to the effort of setting up camps on shore.

That had seemed a perfectly sensible idea when they had first arrived, but now that he had seen all those eyes floating in the water, Gimli wasn't so sure that Strider had made the right choice. It might be easy for everyone to sleep on the boat, but that didn't make it safer. Especially when they didn't row back aboard until after nightfall, so that they had to pass over all those strange lights staring up at them from down below...

Gimli's head nodded, and his hammer slipped out of his hands, and he lunged forward to catch it without thinking—and the next thing he knew, the boat had lurched at the sudden motion and tipped him over the side, and both dwarf and hammer were suddenly in the water.

Dwarves, of course, do not like open water. Their Maker carved them from stone, back in the first days of the world, it was said; and their bones even yet today had stone in them, it was said. Dwarves liked rock and stone and solid land: tall mountains, deep caves, dark mines. Places that matched the stone of their bones and hearts, not seas and oceans where the only stone was miles and miles down beneath the frothing seas. Dwarves do not like the sea.

For dwarves, you see, sink.

And Gimli did, going under with a shout that only served to pull water into his mouth and leave him sputtering into his beard as the waves closed over his head and dragged him down. He kicked frantically, but it was no use: he was too heavy, and the water too strong. No doubt hands were reaching frantically after him, but it was too late: he sank too fast, too deep, for any hands to reach him.

He was going to drown, he knew, out here far from the good solid earth of Mahal's stones, where dwarves did not belong. He was going to drown, and come shamefaced to the halls of his ancestors, a dwarf who ought to have known better than to ever go to sea. Dwarves did not belong at sea, everyone knew that—and now, he was going to drown there.

Only he didn't.

Arms as thin and strong as some strange sea-beast's tentacles closed around his broad shoulders, stilling the flailing of his frantic arms. Silken tendrils as thick and heavy as seaweed flowed across his face like murky gold, and bright green eyes glowed at him in a darkness too deep for any light to pierce; and then, suddenly, he was up on the sand, gasping for breath and coughing water out of his lungs.

Gimli turned just in time to see a flash of gold and green disappearing with a splash back into the sea.

He sat in the surf for a long time, trying to remember what it was to breathe air instead of water, and straining his eyes for any glimpse of the strange savior who had hauled him out of the deeps. But the eyes were all gone now, and only the stars shone upon the frothing waves.

When the rest of the crew reached him, he was salt-crusted and soaked but no longer gasping for air—which was just as well, because both Merry and Pippin insisted on hugging him fiercely enough that they would have squeezed all the breath right back out of his lungs otherwise. Their expressions of relief were loud, and earnest, and passed all but unheard over Gimli's head as they babbled at him.

"And here Uncle Bilbo always said that dwarves couldn't swim!" Frodo exclaimed, running up with the rest. "I'm relieved indeed that he was wrong about that! Are you sure you're all right, Gimli?"

"I'll be fine," Gimli said absently, his eyes fixed on the empty sea. "Are you sure you didn't see anyone else out there?"

"What? No, no you're the only one who fell in, Gimli. We were all so worried about you!"

"Mmm," said Gimli, and let himself be ushered back into the dinghy, and rowed out to the Pony, where Strider fussed over him and made him drink some truly noxious tea, and wrapped him up tightly in three two many blankets with an admonishment to sleep as late as he could tomorrow, and not to rub his eyes too much.

Gimli nodded obediently, but he wasn't really listening. He was trying to catch the gleam of green eyes bobbing in the waves off the side of the boat, and having no luck. He wondered if the moon was too bright, and he simply couldn't see those muted lights against its silver sheen. He squinted at the waves, and let himself be ushered off to bed.

For once, the bobbing of the waves lulled him straight to sleep, and no anxious dreams came to trouble his rest.

By the time he woke, the dinghies were all ashore, and he was left along on board with only the skeleton crew who stayed to watch the crow's nest and monitor the tides. He paced the deck, looking not in towards the cove where the wrecked Fellowship was finally almost fixed, but out into the deeper water of the open ocean behind them.

Once or twice, he thought he caught a glint of gleaming green moving swift and watchful amongst the lapping waves.

It was almost sunset when Gimli threw all traces of sense and caution to the wind and climbed down into the last dinghy, dangling low at the stern. He was barely an arm's length from the waves here, and in the shadow of the tall boat it was cool and dark. He leaned over the side of the dinghy, and saw two green eyes staring up at him through the murky water.

Gimli stretched out his hand.

After a moment, long green fingers pierced the waves and rose up to clasp his palm.

The stranger's grip was wet, and cool, and smooth. The feeling of scales against his skin was strange, but not unpleasant, and Gimli did not pull away, even when he saw the length of the sharp claws that capped each spindly finger.

A golden head rose out of the waves after the arm, narrow shoulders bobbing with each swell of water and long pale hair fanning out loose and lovely all around. Long, finned ears stuck out upon each side of the slender green face, rustling slightly in the wind like the wings of some strange sea-faring butterfly, and sharp teeth gleamed like pearls between thin, beardless lips. Beneath the water, hints of a large coiling tail moved in the dark.

But it was the eyes that truly snared him.

They were wide, and green, and deep as the darkest depths of any ocean; yet they gleamed with a strange light, fey and wild. They were the sort of eyes that might lure a sailor to his doom, leaving him marooned on distant rocks or drowning in deep waves or perhaps merely bleeding-out from a throat torn by sharp pearled teeth, the green seas incarnadined for a moment by a swell of crimson blood that would be all too quickly washed away by the ceaseless tides.

Death shone in those eyes, bright and green.

"Thank you," Gimli said, and smiled.

The mer-fey smiled back, sharp teeth gleaming and thin green cheeks dimpling. In the shadows of the Pony, the bright rays of the setting sun could not reach them. The mer-fey's eyes gleamed anyway, like the shine of fallen stars.

"I am Gimli," the dwarf continued. "Gimli son of Glóin, at your service and that of your family."

The mer-fey's smile widened, shark-broad in his narrow face. "Legolas," he said, and his voice was a watery warble, as though each syllable came as a bubble bursting on the shore. He gave a sudden kick with his powerful tail, and rose up out of the water far enough to plant a feather-light kiss on Gimli's cheek. Gimli grabbed for him, but the mer-fey only laughed and slipped away, vanishing into the deep.

For a long time, Gimli sat there in the dinghy, unmoving, staring dumbly at the silent sea; but not even ripples remained.

Gimli was left with only three long strands of golden seaweed-hair clutched in his hand, and a shallow razor-sharp cut along his cheek where the mer-fey's teeth had grazed his skin, to prove that he hadn't dreamed the whole thing.

He thought about going to Strider, or Frodo, and showing them the gleaming hairs, and asking what they knew of the merfolk, who were clearly so much more than merely stories—but in the end, he said nothing. Only wiped the blood from his cheek, and tucked the long golden hairs carefully away, and held the secret of that strange meeting silent in his heart.

The eyes continued to watch from the waters each night as darkness fell, but no matter how long Gimli lingered on the shore, or how deeply he waded out into the surf, or how low he leaned out over the waves, none of them ever swam any closer. Gimli paced the ship each night, staring into the sea; but Legolas did not return.

But when The Fellowship at last put to sea, and their sails filled with wind and the strange cove fell into the distance behind them, Gimli saw two gleaming spots of green light moving in the waves of the ship's wake.

He grinned, and settled back to wait for moonrise.

Thank you, @sallysavestheday! That was really fun. I very much appreciate you forcing me to get off my butt and write something! Thank you.

Also, anyone who enjoyed this bit of nautical nonsense and wants more, you can find all my other gimleaf fics in this AO3 collection here! I'd love to hear what you think about any of them (or just scream at me about how much you love these two, that's always cool too).

#lotr fanfiction #gimleaf #legolas #lotr mermaid au #oh shit does this mean i actually wrote something for mermay??#guess i'd better tag that lmao #mermay #my writing #lotr #gigolas

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pangur-and-grim · 1 year

Text

okay releasing another short chapter because I think it’s funny, don’t be mean or I’ll actually cry:

Chapter 25

“And this is – COME ON, MOVE FASTER – this is where the train docks. Don’t EVER go inside the train, it’s nothing but rusted metal. Do you know what tetanus is? Do you know what a train is? A train is like a long car.”

I didn’t know what a car was, but lacked the heart to tell her.

Despite her crooked nose (obviously healed from past violence), her imposing frame, and those muscles, Hydna bounded about with the eager friendliness of an over-large puppy. I’d stopped trying to shape my replies to please her, as anything I said, no matter how foolish or petulant, seemed to bring her delight. Most likely I could thank Merulo for lowering her standards of conversation.

“Moving right along now, this is – CAREFUL!” Hydna lunged at me, and I flinched, closing my eyes in brief cowardice, but she only yanked me back from the sink hole I’d been about to step into. “You’re a delicate little thing, so use your eyes, eh?” was my rebuke, along with a shoulder-shattering clap on the back.

“I’m above the average height for men,” I said, pointlessly, for she’d already moved to the next attraction of Poseidon’s Family Fun Resort. This section of the resort looked a proper horror show, with its crumbling merry facades and sun-bleached pigments, bearing the ghostly afterimages of smiling aquatic creatures. When Merulo and I first arrived via portal, we’d evidentially emerged in the section of the resort used for housing visitors, with all the blocky, tall buildings forming a quasi-neighbourhood that radiated out from the newly designated library plaza.

I found it bewildering that this underwater city had been built solely for transient entertainment, though I didn’t doubt Hydna’s explanation. Mentioning this to the sorcerer proved a mistake, as he simply said “Yes, I can imagine thinking is a great effort for you,” and then banished me to spend time with his sister. Or rather to “provide that creature with whatever form of entertainment you see fit, so that I might be spared its company.”

“Are you and Merulo not close?” I asked, remembering the exchange, then winced. I’d interrupted her explanation of a terrifying plastic wheel that stretched many feet up above us, complete with intermittently spaced chairs into which victims might be locked.

“Close?” She sounded baffled – and thankfully unoffended that I hadn’t been listening. “Of course not!”

I squinted up at the dragon woman. She’d dressed herself in relics for the tour, having wasted God knows how much magic in their restoration: a wide-brimmed hat embroidered with water droplets, crammed onto her massive skull, and a shirt stretched painfully tight over what might be either breasts or prodigious pectorals, its smiling fish illustration distorted into a boggle-eyed monster. Her baggy “pants”, which ended mid-thigh, burned an intense yellow-green that didn’t exist in nature. It felt cruel to ask someone so playfully dressed this question.

“Well, you are family! Shouldn’t there be, you know, some underlying love?”

Rather hypocritical, given that my own father likely fell asleep each night thinking of creative ways to kill me, but she didn’t have to know that.

“He’s a walking knife,” came her growled reply.

“Well, yeah.” I kicked around at loose bits of pavement. Intervening in Glenda’s various moods had gone some way toward thickening my skin, but I still shuddered at the waves of displeasure radiating from Hydna. “He’s a lonely guy, I think.”

“Might be less lonely if he weren’t such a piece of shit.” She met my eyes without blinking, and for a sickening moment I found myself mesmerized by their reptilian scarlet.

“You have to. . .” I clenched my teeth and resumed my kicking, concentrating my attentions on a particularly large and rounded chunk. I reminded myself that I owed the sorcerer my life and then some. “I don’t know. Meet him more than half-way? I think he does want company.”

“But is too much of a bastard for company to want him back.”

“Exactly!” I said, delighted that she’d completed my thought. This faded as I saw her expression. “That’s neat that you can raise one eyebrow like that. Good control of . . . uh, of your facial muscles.”

Hydna pointed to a circle of unicorn-sized crabs, complete with saddles, welded to a roofed platform that looked vaguely capable of motion. No half-shouted explanation followed, though; I’d succeeded in puncturing her enthusiasm.

“Those are cool,” I said lamely. Then, “It’s only because he’s been kind to me, when he didn’t have to be. Merulo, I mean. Not that everything’s been perfect, I didn’t much like the whole ‘torture needle’ thing, but –”

“The what?”

“Hang on, I’m coming to a point. Merulo might make a lot of insulting, degrading remarks, and he is overly obsessed with killing God –”

“This is a defense?”

“Hydna, please! What I mean is that, brushing aside all those little details, he’s always been there when I needed him most. Like when Glenda shot me full of arrows, or slit my throat, or –”

“Who the fuck is Glenda?”

“Hydna, come on, I didn’t ask you what a car was!” I rubbed at my stubble, wishing I could reach into my own head to pull my thoughts into order. “Merulo will be there for you, too, if you ever need him,” – and I hoped that was the truth – “So, it’d be good if you could both . . . try.” At her contorted grimace, I added, “I’ll talk to him too, promise. Same speech!”

The dragon woman exhaled deeply. “You’re an annoying little man, Cameron.”

“Again, above average height.”

#it's after the halfway point of the book where things have started going a bit batshit #it starts off as a bog standard European-medieval high fantasy #and then you learn that the entire civilization was built post an apocalypse event #and that the relics of the old society are all technological #so you start going why is this all medieval then? what's with the magic?#and can I say. the answer at the very end is so much dumber than you'll ever guess #(don't worry it's not a hallucination or a dream or the matrix or whatever. everything is real. its just real for a stupid reason)#book

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 1 year

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I remember you mentioned humans are weird stuff, and the red eyes things that hans have when lights flashes to them

What about tails? Humans don't have tails and we balance quite well without one most of the time and our natural buoyancy in water, how would the monster au be when they learning from that

And to add something funny when they see our soft padded feet and our habit to grab stuff

Ooooh, lots of good fun stuff to explore here! >:3 It’s so much fun imagining non-humans reacting to human based things, let alone trying to figure out how and why we’re so biologically weird to them (join the club, boys, even we consider ourselves to be really weird when most of us don’t even know what half the organs in our bodies do)! 😆

The red eye effect I can imagine Cater discovering by pure accident (and subsequently accidentally throwing his phone in panic). 🤣

//Heartslabyul Lounge Room//

Cater: “Hey, Yuu! Let’s take a selfie together~!”

Yuu: “Uh…sure, but isn’t it a little dark in here?”

Cater: “Yeah, but that’s what camera flashes are for. Ace, Trey, get in here for a group selfie~!”

Ace: “Sure, I’m down!”

Trey: “I’d rather not, thank you.”

Cater: “Suit yourself. Say cheese~!”

Yuu and Ace: “Cheese!”

Click!

Cater: “Okay, let’s take a look and post i-GYAH!!!” *launches into the air with his wings and clings to the rafters, dropping his phone in the process*

Trey: “Cater?! What’s wrong??”

Cater: “What’s going on with your eyes in the pic, Yuu?!”

Yuu: *confused as they pick up his phone and stare at the picture* “Ah darn it, I hate the red eye effect.”

Ace: “The red eye what??” *peers over shoulder and shudders* “Dude. That…that’s creepy as hell!”

Yuu: “It happens when the camera flashes in low light. Don’t you guys experience red-eye in photos?”

Cater: “No! Or…well, maybe? We call it ‘silver eye’ or ‘white eye’ when the flash reflects off our pupils, but I’ve never seen it be red before! I don’t even know if the filter to remove the effect would even work on that…”

Trey: “I guess we managed to find yet another difference between monsters and humans.”

///

Once word got back to the researchers of this effect, they were able to realize that not only did humans lack the same reflective surface as monsters, but that the camera flash reflected the rich blood supply in the back of the eye. Depending on the eye color of the human in question, it would become more prominent in paler eye colors—a fact that soon tied into the rare phenomenon of certain canine and feline monsters with blue and green eyes having similar effects to their own eyes.

When it comes to tails, it comes as a surprise to the researchers that humans did in fact have a tail bone, yet evolutionally speaking, it didn’t serve any obvious purpose…on the surface. In reality, the tail bone served as a support to help Yuu sit. When compared to the other monsters, it seemed Yuu had better balance sitting on virtually any surface—including uneven ones. “Not that it’s always comfortable to do so,” as one researcher noted after seeing Yuu somehow find a decent spot on the bumpy rock with an uncomfortable expression on their face.

Now, as for the natural buoyancy in water (unless you’re someone who has a lot of muscle mass and struggles to stay afloat or someone who just doesn’t know how to swim at all), the monsters might find it quite a surprise to see Yuu just floating on their back in the pool. They might even think that one of the aquatic monsters was holding them up…only to discover that no, they were just…floating there. For no reason other than it was comfortable.

RIP the monsters’ nerves if Yuu were to do the “dead man’s float” in the pool. 😂

For the feet grab thing, I’d imagine this takes place shortly after the “hoof-shoe discovery” post here. >v>

///

Ace: “This is so weird.” *pokes the fleshy part of Yuu’s foot* “How do you guys even walk with these things? Doesn’t it hurt?”

Yuu: “Not unless we step on broken glass or shell shards and sharp rocks.” *squeaks when he pokes again and pulls foot back* “Hey, that tickles!”

Deuce: “It…tickles?”

Random Student: “Hey, hurry up! Coach says we need to clean up the field or he’ll make us run more laps.”

Ace: “Okay, okay, yeesh! You good, Yuu?”

Yuu: “Yeah, I’m good! I’ll just leave my shoes off for a bit. The grass feels really nice!”

Ace: “Seriously, how are you humans so weird?”

*The monster students gather the larger, heavier items while Yuu starts gathering the lighter and smaller pieces left behind until their arms are full and a cloth falls out of the pile*

Deuce: “Here, let me get that for you.”

Yuu: “No thanks, I got it.”

Ace: “You literally have your hands fu-”

Yuu: *uses one foot to grab the cloth, twisting their leg around until they can grab the cloth with their opposite hand and continues walking* “See? I got it!”

Ace: *stares with everyone else in shock and disbelief* “…seriously, why the fuck are humans so weird??”

///

And thus began a new Magicam challenge for monsters to try (that don’t have hooves of course…Cater assures everyone that an alternate challenge is currently in the works so he can participate as well): try and pick up random objects with your talons and put it in a box like a human! If you use your hands to grab them off the floor or you don’t get it within the time limit, you fail the challenge. It became an instant hit on Magicam, with many struggling to recreate the same prehensile motions that—so far—only avian monsters have been able to mimic.

I can just imagine the muscle cramps some might’ve gone through trying to do this challenge. 🤣

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland monster au #twst monster au #cater diamond #ace trappola #trey clover #deuce spade

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ratsoh-writes · 5 months

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Say hello to hadaltale y’all!!

To explain the name: the hadal zone is areas of the ocean in deep trenches that lie between 6,000 to 11,000 meters.

The hadal monsters as you can expect, are all completely aquatic! After the barrier spell by the mages who tried to trap monsters during the Great War went wrong, the whole planet was flooded. The hadal monsters have only stone tablets as records of this, and they’re very vague. They believe at one point that their people may have been surface dwellers, but those days have long passed

Over time the monsters who survived on ships slowly evolved to better handle an ocean life, becoming stronger swimmers, being able to breathe water, and eventually abandoning ships all together to live in the ocean forever. Hadal monsters became master stone masons, carving into the rock of the ocean floor to make their homes, and taking advantage of deep trenches and cavern systems. To handle the harsh water pressure, these monsters became larger and stronger overtime at the expense of their magical output. Hadal monsters have incredible physical strength and durability, but lower magical output than the majority of surface monsters.

After the crash, the hadal monsters were first discovered by the sea AUs, then the sea monsters bridged the gap between the hadal and surface AUs. Hadal monsters cannot breathe air. But the royals were determined to unite all monsters and the hadal royals agreed easily with this goal. It took five years after the crash, but finally a spell was found that would allow a hadal monster to safely breathe and travel on land for up to three hours at a time. Work is still being done to increase this.

In turn, the second biggest city of ebott, jokingly named Atlantis by Asgore who has no imagination, lies slightly west of seashore. Atlantis is mostly underwater of course. But parts of it are on the surface and the surf on float in buildings. The city is built into the rocky cliffs of ebott, and the hadal monsters have drilled further into the ground for their own living spaces. There’s even a tunnel to waterfall that they created

And now, to introduce the siblings!

Pearl (hadaltale sans)

Technically she was never named “sans”. Pearl was always named Pearl. She’s small for a hadal monster, only six feet long, and her lower half resembles that of an octopus. She’s a skeletal hadal monster aged 50 with a blue magic. She has the third eye characteristic of the royal family. She’s considered absolutely gorgeous by hadal standards because of her smooth tentacles and soft looking face and body.

Pearl is a gentle and affectionate soul. Pearl was raised as royalty and has a strong sense of duty from her upbringing. She has lovely manners. She’s a bit skittish at times though, and has a lot of anxiety over trying new things. She tends to cling to those she deems safe. She has very little experience with the surface

As one of the princes lined up to potentially take their place, pearls duties lie in management. She organizes events for Atlantis, manages finances, and spends a lot of time in the records hall. She has a reputation among the hadal princes for hosting the best meetings due to her budgeting skills

Hadal monsters didn’t summon weapons normally until it became part of ebotts curriculum. Pearl missed this part of her education and never learned to make one, nor does she care to

Pearls special ability is cloaking! She can change the color of her bones and tail to match the colors of whatever behind her. Unfortunately her eyes do not change with the rest of her

Things she loves: seashell accessories! Head wrappings, any sort of hat really, she has a collection. Fine jewelry, swing music, black and white movies, fancy chocolates, chicken nuggets, watching races and jousts, stargazing, floral and coral arrangements, interior design, the color coral pink, lily pad flowers

Silex (hadaltale papyrus)

Technically not a papyrus, as his name was always silex. Silex is a hadal monster aged 44 and 7’3 feet long. His lower half resembles a spiny eel with lovely sea green ecto to match his eyes. He has the third eye characteristic of the royal family.

Silex is a confident monster. He’s quite outgoing and friendly, making him a natural leader in any friend group. He has an eye for the shy weak ones in the group and tends to focus on them. He has a strong sense of duty being raised in the royal family. He can be overconfident at times though, believing he can achieve unrealistic goals, and his family often has to being him back down to earth.

As one of the princes lined up to potentially take his parents place, silex’s duties lie mostly in management. He has a good eye for people and is often in charge of hiring and managing the employees of Atlantis’ court as well as managing their work. He is also often taken to business deals.

Despite being aged out by the time magic weapons were made a requirement for graduates, silex still learned to make one. His weapon is a long rapier. It’s a sleek and simple weapon. He wants to add more to it someday though

Silex’s special ability is electricity! When grabbed, he can produce electric currents around his body injuring and scaring off would be foes! Thankfully the electricity doesn’t seem to travel far, shocking every one else around him. He has very good control of his magic

Things he loves: the color silver, interesting metal weapons, racing and jousts, surfing, exploring the surface, sushi, HARD LIQUOR, watching spars on TV, jasmines, not wearing clothes, electro swing

Side characters

Titanic: hadal Asgore, titanic is the father of Pearl and silex and the main royal of the hadal. Titanic was the driving force between uniting his monsters and the surface and encourages his people all the time to reach out and explore. He’s a very curious and passionate monster with a love for all things new

Olympia: hadal toriel, the mother of Pearl and silex and the monster who fathered them. Olympia is the second royal of the hadal monsters and is an affectionate but proud character. She agrees with titanics desire to combine their people with the surface dwellers but is more cautious than him. She will integrate as long as she’s convinced her people benefit from each deal.

Voyager: hadal gaster, the second father of Pearl and silex, voyager is the mate of titanic and Olympia, and first in line to replace one as a royal if anything had ever happens. Voyager was the parent to carry Pearl and silex of course, and has a very close relationship with the two as well as his other kids. Voyager is a reserved but highly intelligent monster, and was the one who discovered a way to safely bring power to the areas of Atlantis beneath the surface. He always jokingly laments that none of his kids enjoy science the way he does

And the siblings in order from oldest to youngest

Angler (goat): aged 140, angler is the oldest prince and the first child of the royal trio. She was carried by voyager and fathered by Olympia. Angler is a strong aggressive but loyal monster with a tail resembling that of an angler fish.

Pacific (skeleton): aged 122, pacific is the second child of the trio, carried by Olympia and fathered by voyager. Pacific is an elegant monster with a taste for drama. He’s clever and known for catching people in lies. His tail resembles that of an orca

Bermuda (goat) aged 80, Bermuda is the third child of the trio, carried by titanic and fathered by Olympia. Bermuda is… eccentric. He’s a wild card who can’t be predicted, but he loves his family so no one worries too hard. He works closely with the navy. His lower half resembles a blue finned shark

Pearl, fathered by Olympia, carried by voyager

Silax, fathered by Olympia, carried by voyager

Atlantis (goat), aged 2 and named after the city in ebott, Atlantis is the newest member of the royal family. She was fathered by titanic and carried by Olympia. She’s a bouncy and giggly toddler with a big fascination for hot wheels. Her tail resembles a spiny pufferfish

#undertale imagines #undertale headcanons #ratsohart #hadaltale #worldbuilding

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connorsnothereeither · 26 days

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Hi! this is a mainly DnD based question that sorta runs into Fable-

So I'm currently running an entirely underwater campaign! The species I've included is basically every aquatic DnD species (some with a few twists) along with some homebrewed underwater dragonborn, etc-

However, I'm having trouble with choosing a clothing type to put on the sea elves? My version has them more telchin-ish- aka, maybe funky colored human base with longer legs, a tail, and I've given them webbed, frog-like feet and fins in a variety of places.

Logically, they honestly really wouldn't wear clothes- but I'm not doing that because that'd make certain scenes very hard to draw-

so what do you generally imagine the telchin wearing? normal clothes, edited versions of those, etc? Right now I have the two sea elves my party interact with on a regular basis in sort of tank-top-esque wear and edited shorts of a kind.

Ooooh okay that’s a really fun question my worldbuilding gears are turning lmao-

I have a post somewhere here on my blog about Telchin clothing and specifically my development of Ulysses design and the cultural influences, which basically boils down to “Telchins at the start of war = Ancient Greek clothes (chitons, togas, cloaks, etc). Telchins during the projects = WW2 fashion (pants, jumpsuits, jackets, etc)”

If you wanted my thoughts on how I would maybe clothe them in a broader sense/outside the context of Fable, I have some ideas! ✨

I think tank tops and shorts definitely fit the vibe. More-modern style clothing just underwater is always a super fun route to take, even for the visual of just clothing underwater being funky and something that’s a little different and new!

Typically in my mind, when it comes to clothing in world building it usually boils down to resources and purpose.

Resources is more the boring side of things. What kinds of materials do they have access to, how do they manufacture the clothing, blah blah blah. Not really something you need to worry about in fantasy worlds cause usually the answer is “cause magic” and “because it’s cool so I said so” which is the more fun kind of fantasy imo, and getting too bogged down in the granular details as a DM/storyteller just ain’t very productive.

Purpose on the other hand is where you can really have fun with underwater clothing! Is it designed to be functional, or stylistic? If its purpose is to be functional, maybe their clothing develops like swimsuits, almost? Like you said: shorts, crop tops, swim-shirts, etc! Something that covers enough or the body while still not being too cumbersome in the water, prioritizing movement when swimming! Or maybe you want to take that to the extreme; maybe their clothing developed like wetsuits! Skintight, smooth, shiny, and insulating! Designed to move with them, just a layer of covering for their bodies to make them more hydrodynamic! Or, if the purpose of the clothing is to be attractive and fashionable and flashy, maybe they do go in a more Greco-Roman route! Maybe it’s all about togas and dresses and cloaks and veils! Layers of long, flowing fabrics which shimmer and billow out in the water and draw attention to the person wearing them! These huge billowing clothes which make a statement, rather than help with movement or anything!

And it doesn’t have to be one or the other, either. You can mix and match both! Maybe the skintight wetsuit-like clothes are designed with patterns that ripple and shift as the wearer moves and they become beautiful and hypnotic! Maybe the large billowing cloaks are useful when avoiding predators underwater, making the wearer seem bigger, scarier and more imposing to any underwater monsters! The telchin’s clothing in my eyes follows a direct path almost: the fashionable pre-war clothing in billowing fabrics which allow freedom of movement and expression, that slowly transition into cleaner, more tailored clothing as they need to conserve fabric, and avoid being grabbed by drowned, losing that expression in the process. There’s so much room to play around with elements of either or both when it comes to it!

I know this was very rambling but I hope it was somewhat helpful!! Your campaign sounds really cool, an underwater campaign is such an interesting concept!! I hope you have fun running it!

#worldbuilding #dnd #fable smp kinda #sea elves #fantasy clothing #writing

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monsterfloofs · 10 months

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Carroigne (Bird creature / plague doctor creature) He/They/It x Anonymous Reader (Sfw)

( An scp inspired story, I luff plague doctor creatures and took a stab at making one of my own! I hope you enjoy! :3c Tis Floofy writing hours again wheeeeee💖)

Your job had begun easy enough. Working as a janitor in a top secret facility. With a keyring of important items that consisted of your ID badge and multiple personnel keycards. Accessing just about any level required your ID, a keycard, a number of passwords, a retinal scan, and sometimes even a list of security questions to get into certain spaces. Within your time working for said non-disclosed facility, you have signed a folders worth of waivers, and disclaimers. Many personnel lived within the building while they weren’t on vacation and you were no exception. Your little home away from home space held folders bursting full of paperwork.

That was just from working a small janitorial job. You couldn’t imagine what kind of work loads the clinical lab coat wearing scientists had to deal with on a daily basis. Many things were kept on a need to know basis, and you were the last to know about a lot of things. Still, that didn’t exactly deter you from this job. The money and the roof over your head was convincing enough to have you keep updating the necessary forms you needed to have to stay at the facility.

You took your mop and cart of supplies past heavy steel doors with windows that looked in on an assortment of inhuman beings. The hallway's bright sterile lighting hurt your eyes when first entering the “dorms”. A few of the menagerie of creatures would press their faces against the glass, jaws working in an attempt to say something to you past the barrier.

"It's no place for sympathy," You had been briefed, "Many of these monsters would happily take the opportunity to tear you limb from limb."

You would recite those words in your head as you walked by the rows of containment units.

Yet as you look back now, that was the first mistake you ended up making.

Engaging.

Past the slithering forest of tendrils, gleaming eyes in shadowy corners, and aquatic creatures that floated suspended in the water, among them sat a humanoid shape at a simple table and chair. Something both strange yet familiar that sat out of place.

It was like looking at a Halloween decoration, an animatronic that sat amongst all the other oddities. It could have almost been laughable, back then. Like a prank someone had set up in the room and left for the other workers to stumble upon. The being was swathed in dark clothes, with black leather gloves, a victorian cloak, dark pants down to the knee-high boots with silver buckles. The outfit gave no hint at the skin underneath, even its face was adorned with a mask that obscured their visage. The mask itself resembles a plague doctor’s, with the long pointed beak, and dark glass where the eyes would be. The material was hard and better quality, than what you would find compared to the halloween costumes that mimicked the look. Black leather, with neat stitches that ran around the entirety of the mask. Metal rims inlaid around the round glass lenses.

You had stopped, to peer at the figure inside the room. It had sat so still, like a life sized doll. You were just about to move on, before one gloved hand raised up in a silent wave.

You had stood transfixed on the spot, eyebrows knitting together. You tilted your head, and the being on the other side of the glass mimicked you. The beaked mask resembled more and more like a wide glossy eyed bird. You shuddered, and backed away.

After that one day, whenever you traversed that corridor you could feel eyes watching you intently as you passed. Many times you couldn't help but to turn your head. Though you already knew who it was, typically they sat upon a chair. Hands clasped over a crossed knee. On one occasion you had jumped nearly out of your skin. Seeing the beaked figure inches away from the glass, a piece of paper pressed against the wall with its fingers.

"I have not seen you here before, are you new?" The letters scrawled in a spidery cursive. You felt chills creep up and down your spine, you looked around the deserted passageway, before giving a brief nod. With a flourish of their hand, they produced a fountain pen from their breast pocket. However, whatever spell that had kept you in place was dissolving. You had moved on while they had begun to write something. Taking nervous glances around you as you had sheepishly gone about your business.

The facility had many rules and regulations about the different creatures and anomalies that lay housed inside. After your shift you had sat cross-legged on your bed, flipping through the files you had the authorization to see. Chewing on your bottom lip as you ran your fingers through a thick stack of papers again and again.

Nothing.

There wasn’t any information on the so-called plague doctor. You could only guess that this particular being wasn’t one that was accessible for cleaning personnel. You unceremoniously dropped the stack of papers to the floor. Laying back in the small bed that took up half your living quarters.

You turned this way and that, laying with your hands clasped over your stomach, your eyes trained on the ceiling. This knowledge did very little to clear your conscience. While this being wasn’t one that you were briefed on, that didn’t indicate that they weren’t a threat. Your mind was an ocean of twisting thoughts, you had previously heard accounts of people spiraling into insanity just by hearing some of these strange creatures speak. Your knuckles balling into uneasy fists as you gripped your blanket.

Sleep was uneasy, with many rounds of jolting awake between dreaming. By morning you were exhausted, slumping forward out of bed to head out to the mess hall.

You were greeted by the sight of a bustling space. The clamorous cacophony of voices that were making small talk during breakfast making your head spin. It felt as though you were still dreaming. Grabbing a cup of coffee and a try, wading through the line until you found a seat.

“Unit 1779336 of the Janitorial department?”

You raised your head groggily, close to dozing only moments before, yet you stiffened to sit up straighter. Your eyes falling to the badges of a military uniform.

“Sir?”

“Hate to take you away from your breakfast so early in the morning, but you and I have some things that need to be discussed.”

You feel your chest tighten as you move to stand. The man in front of you stood with his hands clasped behind his back. A stocky man with a neat salt and pepper beard, and piercing green eyes.

You could feel curious gazes directed at you as you walked. You Hunched your shoulders defensively as you trailed behind the uniformed man. You were led down a series of corridors into a large circular office. The man’s wide shoulders slopped as he let out a heavy sigh. He settled down at his desk and tapped a folder on the polished table top.

“You’ve been requested for a promotion.” He said grimly. “This isn't a standard issue. . . but this is a special case.”

You nodded, as a weighty silence hung in the air. He took off his hat, running a hand through his slick backed hair.

“How much do you know about Caroigne?”

“P-pardon?” You inquired, the man’s expression turning stormy as his eyebrows wrinkled his brow.

“Caroigne, the so called “in-house doctor” as it likes to call itself,” He growls “That bastard seems to know an awful lot about you.”

“But I— Sir, I’ve never spoken to—“

His green eyes flashed, and your voice died in your throat. He pauses to take a tempering breath through his nose. Then he pushes the manilla folder towards you across the desk. You glance from him to the manilla, before nervously flipping it open.

In that same spidery hand, that you remember seeing on a scrap of paper, was written your full name. The one you had been sworn to relinquish while you were inside the facility, your age, your job, and a short synopsis of your medical records. There was a smaller footnote underneath the scrawl.

“This subject would be an ideal companion for me while I am enjoying my stay at your facilities.”

“Subject,” You mouth faintly, before staring up at the man, “Y-you’re j-joking. . . r-right?”

He crosses his arms, glowering at you, “Caroigne has refused to speak with all scientists and attendants. If they are willing to speak with you, then it’s a risk we’re willing to take. I will get you the necessary papers you need to have, and you will start in two days.”

Fragility hit you like a freight train, how easily replaceable you were if things were to go sour. The feeling of having the air punched from your lungs continued after you had taken your new briefing papers. The last words of wisdom he had threatened in a grave timber.

“Whatever you do, don’t talk about illnesses in front of it, don’t let it know there is anyone sick, or if you yourself feel ill. Not unless you want to be the new cadaver we have to drag from its room.”

You sat curled into a corner of your bedroom. Legs tucked into your chest as you stared numbly into space.

Those two days were days where you barely left your room. They were spent between reading over your assigned documents and sleeping. The times you did leave your dorm room, there were guards stationed outside of your door to discourage any plans of leaving. You had broken down and cried in the bathroom on that last night, the sleeve of your shirt between your teeth to muffle your sobs.

You stood between two soldiers carrying assault rifles. Your eyes blinked painfully from the tears you hadn’t been able to stop. Head pounding with an ache as you were led into an interrogation room. You entered alone, finding doctor Caroigne already sitting across the table.

“Well hello there~ How delightful that you and I finally get a chance to spea— Oh, oh dear you aren’t looking very well at all.”

You blink at the blurry figure in front of you. Compared to the other people you had encountered the past few days, this was a voice that was filled with what sounded like genuine worry. You swallowed hard, eyes turning to look at the papers in front of you, shuffling them nervously.

“I-I’m fine.” You breathed, “You are. . .”

“Doctor Caroigne dear, but you may just call me Caroigne. And I suppose you’ll want to know my pronouns, that is the new rage nowadays.” they chuckle benignly, “I don’t think I have ever had the pleasure of having any, many scientists in this facility call me a ‘he’ in any case. I truly don’t mind what you choose, but it’s best not to upset the other doctors in this facility. Between you and me, they are dreadfully foul tempered.”

A weak smile graces your lips before it disappears. “You seem to know your way around the staff.”

Caroigne folds their fingers together, tapping his thumbs against each other.

“You could consider me to be somewhat of a flexible individual. One does not simply settle into their surroundings without some difficulty. However, I am proud to say that I have managed quite well.”

You paused, frowning at the papers in your hands, you were going to have to be more direct with these questions. After a moment of hesitation you finally relented, “How. . . did you get my information?”

“Ah, I am assuming ‘they’ would like to know?”

Your eyes slowly moved from your papers to watch them.

Caroigne bobs their masked head in the direction of the dark one way viewing windows.

“I. . . I would also like to know.” You mused softly.

“Hm. . . “ A pause before they give a tsking noise, a tone between amusement and disappointment. “I can’t be giving away all my secrets.”

Your eyebrows furrow, “But,” He says, raising a finger, “I might be able to part with a few of them, for a small price, a token, if you will.”

“And that price would be. . .”

“Oh nothing taxing,” Caroigne huffs, “This,” He spreads his arms, “Is all that I require. It’s been so long since I have talked to someone. Truly talked to someone. Tis a breath of fresh air. As a beast of science myself, I do not mind the others, but all they want to do is batter me with questions, questions, questions. It is that, or I dare say isolation.”

You bobbed you head wordlessly, as the doctor took a breath and continued.

“Furthermore, I liked the look about you, curious, inquisitive, I like that.” They chuckle warmly, “I have a bit of a nose myself~” They joked as they tapped at the mask's beaked visage.

The first meeting was odd. The doctor was well mannered if not very chatty. They asked many questions about yourself, where you had grown up, your childhood. You spent a great deal of time stepping around its questions and asking ones of your own. It had felt stiff with politeness at first, but it had become more natural the longer you talked.

When you had been finally taken and led away, Caroigne impressed just how lovely it had been to chat. Wishing you well, and eager to speak again. Back in your room, you looked back at his case folder, picking up the single photo that was in your file. It was a picture of Caroigne hovering over a mutilated corpse and holding a pen and clipboard. Blood smattering the walls and floor, as the guard had tried to defend themselves. You shuddered, placing the photo back into the folder, the image facing down. It was proof to remember, that no matter how kindly this being seemed, they were dangerous.

You had to be careful.

And you were! For a time. It fell into a routine, a weekly dance the two of you had. You asked him questions and he asked you things as well. You talked about your work, and the folks you missed at home. Somewhere along the way, you could notice yourself changing, the way you talked to them. Less sterilely polite, and more heart. You would laugh at the jokes they had tossed your way, and you spoke more sincerity than you had expected.

Then one day, you messed up.

You hadn’t felt well that day. The beginning of a headache pulsed across your forehead. You settled down at the other side of the table. Cariogne had leaned forward, “And how are you my dear?”

It was just a simple slip up, an off-handed comment. One derived from familiarity and not caution.

“Oh, I’m doing alright, I just have a little bit of a headache.”

You could feel the room go deathly still, “A. . . headache you say?” The calm voice drifted behind the mask. The room fell into pin drop silence as you realized the mistake you just made. Then began a tapping, a sudden drumming of the doctors fingers against the table of the interrogation room. They sat unmoving except for those fingers. The rhythmic tone was the only thing that showed a sudden change in their mood. An almost strained kind of excitement, like a cat ready to pounce.

“What. . . kind of headache, tension? An oncoming migraine, perhaps?” Their voice was casual, off-handed even. But your eyes were transfixed on the four fingers of his right hand.

“T-tension,” You replied, flinching as your voice cracked. You could already feel your pulse begin to quicken as gooseflesh began to creep up your arms. With all the briefing you had done, and reading his file countless times. Going over the information just before you left for these visits, the simplest most easiest rule to remember.

“Ah.” His hand froze, before his hands steepled themselves together.

“I see,”

You nodded your head jerkily, looking away, your eyes scanned the sealed room.

“I see, I see,” He muses, his voice sounding much closer than before. “Our little visits must put a strain on you, I hadn’t realized that.”

You hadn’t seen him get up, and they had moved across the table to stand across from in a blink of an eye. You hadn’t even had a chance to pull away. He leaned down, almost hovering on top of you.

“I wish to impress this upon you, little fledgling, you truly have nothing to worry about.”

The gloved hand touches your chin, raising your head up to stare back at the mask.

You begin to blink back tears as you watch little dots of laser light blink all over his form.

He turns his head, not aware of the sudden change of atmosphere, examining your face until there is a bark from one of the guards behind you.

“Release them Carriogne, and we won’t have to use force,”

He turns his attention away from you finally, “. . . That is quite rude.” The doctor scoffed, “I had known there was someone listening in to our chats. Haven’t you chaps heard of privacy?” He retracts his hand and you can breathe again. Taking the distraction to push out your chair, hastily stepping backward until you reach the threshold. The guards in their heavily armored uniforms push past you to get a clearer aim.

“He’s out of his cuffs again,” One of the soldiers shouted back to the main guard.

“Well, of course I am,” The doctor quipped cheerfully, “I told you they don’t work. I don’t know why you keep trying to use them.”

“That’s enough humor for one day doctor,” Another of the security personnel grunted, tension coloring his voice, “Make a note that the silver handcuffs have no effect, we’ll have to try a different pair next time.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going, no need to cause a fuss.” The doctor huffs, his calm voice sounded only mildly harassed, due to the circumstances. He is jostled out of the interrogation room at gunpoint. He turns his head towards you, sounding apologetic.

“I’m so sorry my dear, for this abrupt change of plans. I also apologize for these men, the lot of them could do with a lesson in manners. . . I would see to it myself but I don’t suppose that would do me personally any favors. I shall see you anon, next week at the latest. If they allow me.”

You don’t respond, but rather watch him being led away. Your heart hammering in your throat, and only finding the energy to sob until you fell into a crumpled heap on your bed. You weren’t sure how close of a shave that could have been.

Due to the events of the last appointment, you were briefly taken off of doctor Caroigne’s appointed meetings. However, word leaked through the grapevine that the doctor hadn’t taken the news well. The whole right wing of the facility had gone on a code red lockdown as they had muscled his way past a squad of guards, sending one of them to the hospital with shattered ribs.

There were about three weeks of bated breath after the lockdown, when things were quiet and you hadn’t heard word of any one being reassigned to Caroigne. Then an envelope had been thrust into the small mail slot in your door, and your heart sank.

You had gone from being a nobody, happy to clean and do janitorial tasks. Avoiding high risk jobs, to now being an imperative piece in dealing with a high risk entity.

Bright lights beating down from above as you were acutely aware of your footsteps. Your breath sounded loud and unnatural in your ears. When the room came into view you saw Carroigne, no simple handcuffs with time, but a full body straight jacket, mingled with heavy metal chains that were also wrapped across their form.

“Y-y-you’ve been a bad birdie,” Your voice shook slightly as you whispered the words, sitting down at the table.

Caroigne’s chains shifted around them as they gave a bemused shrug, “Why, I would contest to this, but I fear, perhaps you are alright. Is the chap in the hospital doing alright? I could take a look at him,”

You shook your head, “He is alright, he is being looked after.”

“Hm.”

“. . . How can you be so calm about this?”

“Should I not be?” The strange masked face tilts, “Perhaps I also should not overlook the fact that I am held here against my will.”

You feel your expression falling. “I. . . I don’t think I can do this, I’m s-sorry.” You had begun to get up, signaling to the guards that you wanted to conclude the session.

“Wait— Mon cher-“

Caroigne must have moved too quickly for the guards' liking. As the door opened and two guards stepped inside the space weapons raised.

You glance back before your eyes go wide. An inhuman noise comes from behind you. You are roughly pushed behind the guards. You let out a strained noise as a clawed hand shoots forward, a wrenching of strained metal and tearing fabric. The hand itself was scaly and ribbed like a birds, past that the skin was dark with veiny irregular skin. Keloid bumps are peppered up the arm and a small smattering of feathers like a molting bird.

“Stop, stop, STOP!” You realize you were the one screaming, voice high and frantic trying to push past the guards. As they opened fire upon Carriogne, his stance hunkering down to shed the cloth to ribbons and toss it aside. The next moment you were alone, the two guards in the room and the others that were trying to rush inside, had been knocked over like a set of bowling pins. You reacted by freezing, covering your face with your hands as a shadow looms over you.

You could hear more inhuman noises above you, a clicking sound making your ears ring. You let out a shuddering breath of air, keeping your hands pressed tightly to your face. Like the mentality of a child afraid of what lurked in the dark, if I don’t look, it can’t see me or can’t hurt me.

The softness of a glove caressed your cheek. Your knees buckling as you are coaxed against a velvety form.

Worker Update

Worker ID Number: 1779336

Previous Position: Janitor

New Position as of September 8th 2021: Interrogatee of entity 275

Status: Employee Terminated

Reason: Unknown Disappearance

!: Emergency Update as of August 6th 2023

Disappearance of entity 275, site wide lock down initiated.

Entity was last seen with employee 1779336, recovery of both Entity 275 and 1779336 is in progress. Any sightings of either should be immediately reported to C. Ivan Willowicke, head of security.

#YOU DUN GOT ATTACTCHED #They told you 'not that bad don't do that'#and you did it anyway like >:3 #if you ever get rescued birb babe is just a ball of chains with their beak peeking out #like oopsie you got me officer #I kissed the hooman and got jail time #plague doctor monster x reader #plague doctor monster x human #bird monster x reader #bird monster x human #I also kind picture them doing a Howl kind of thing with their feathers =o #which makes my brain go ✨️

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thecreaturecodex · 11 months

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Slig

[Sponsored by @martyslittleusedblog. They're been trying to get me interested in monsters from platforming games for a while, and this is what hooked me. Partially because I remember Oddworld and Abe's Odyssee for the PS1. My cousin was the one with the Playstation, and he didn't like the game, but I remember poring over the manual and delighting in the concepts and the art. A dystopian game where a low level employee at a meat packing plant fights a corporate empire and becomes a reluctant Chosen One? Yes please!

The sligs are the main grunt force of said corporate empire, the Magog Cartel. Imagine if koopas carried shotguns. Apparently a slig slave revolt is a plot point in one of the later games. Good for them. If you're super worried about game balance, this is another monster, like the watchuka, that has a lot of treasure for its CR because guns and other ranged weapons are very expensive in Pathfinder 1e.]

Slig CR 4 NE Aberration This green skinned creature has a squid-like head with five finger-like feelers surrounding its mouth. It has large muscular arms and metal legs. It wears a set of red-tinted goggles and carries a large gun.

Sligs are eusocial mollusk-like creatures native to the swamps of the planet Mudos. They are most commonly found elsewhere as grunts, soldiers and assassins, as their queens have gladly sold the entire species to the Magog Cartel, a massive industrial empire. In exchange for unquestioning service, the Cartel provides sligs with greater mobility. A slig is born with strong forelimbs and stunted hind limbs, perfectly serviceable for pulling themselves between bodies of water, but good for little else. A slig in slig pants, however, can walk, jump and use its arms for carrying weapons; typically guns. Sligs love guns. Most sligs also wear goggles on a regular basis, both to protect their eyes (they are naturally nocturnal and live in foggy swamps) and because higher ups in the Magog Cartel find their beady eyes aesthetically displeasing.

Few sligs are very bright, but most of them are very cruel. Unlike many other eusocial sapient species but more similar to bumblebees and paper wasps, there is frequent infighting among sligs as they jockey for rank. The Cartel has managed to channel that into organized contests like kill counts, employee of the month bonuses and frequent games. Another privilege is the use of names—all sligs have a name, but using it publicly instead of a number and rank has to be earned by service to the Cartel. Sligs off duty are often found playing card games or sports, and those not playing are usually betting their spare income on such matches.

A slig stands about five feet tall. They are short lived, and considered adults by 2 years and ancient by 20.

Variant Sligs Sligs are naturally morphologically plastic, as they respond quickly to changes in hormone levels. In addition, different sligs may have different abilities due to different equipment and cybernetics bestowed on them by the Magog Cartel. For example, Big Bro sligs are Large sligs who have to be equipped with special four-legged slig pants to support their weight, and are often given automatic weapons. Some sligs are given flying harnesses instead of pants—they have a fly speed of 40 feet (perfect), but no land speed. Other sligs, especially with class levels, may be equipped with heavier armor, flamethrowers, or rocket launchers.

Slig CR 4 XP 1,200 NE Medium aberration (aquatic) Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +6 Defense AC 17, touch 12, flat-footed 15(+2 Dex, +3 natural, +2 armor) hp 47 (5d8+25) Fort +5, Ref +3, Will +4 Weakness light blindness Offense Speed 30 ft., swim 20 ft. Melee 2 slams +4 (1d6+1) or heavy mace +4 (1d8+1) Ranged masterwork shotgun +6 (1d8) Statistics Str 13, Dex 15, Con 18, Int 8, Wis 10, Cha 11 Base Atk +3; CMB +5; CMD 16 Feats Deadly Aim, Exotic Weapon Proficiency (firearms) (B), Gunsmithing (B), Point Blank Shot, Toughness Skills Acrobatics +8 (+12 when jumping), Craft (firearms) +2, Knowledge (engineering) +5, Perception +6, Survival +6 Languages Common, Slig SQ amphibious, slig pants, uplifted Ecology Environment any land Organization solitary, pair, squad (3-8), troop (9-24) or army (25-100) Treasure standard (veemod goggles with brown veemod, 2 batteries, masterwork shotgun with 10 pellet cartridges and 10 slug cartridges, heavy mace, other treasure) Special Abilities Slig Pants (Ex) Most sligs encountered wear slig pants, a set of robotic lower legs designed for a slig to sit in and control. These pants grant the slig a 30 foot land speed, a +2 armor bonus to AC (that doesn’t stack with worn armor) and a +4 racial bonus to Acrobatics checks. A slig without its pants on has a land speed of only 5 feet, and cannot use manufactured weapons as it needs its hands to move. A slig without pants is a CR 3 creature. A slig’s pants are destroyed when the creature is slain (and cannot be worn by anything besides a slig regardless). Uplifted (Ex) A slig gains Exotic Weapon Proficiency (firearms) and Gunsmithing as bonus feats.

#slig #oddword #abe's oddysee #video games #sponsored post

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bestiarium · 2 years

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The Njuggel [Shetland/Scottish folktales]

The Scottish Kelpie is one of the most popular and well-known water spirits. An unsuspecting victim comes upon a malicious creature that poses as an innocent horse. Enticed to ride it, the victim soon finds himself magically unable to dismount and can only scream as the horse plunges beneath the waves to drown its meal. The story certainly speaks to the imagination, but there are actually many variants of it: The Norwegian Nøkk, the German Nixe, the Welsh Ceffyl Dŵr, the Flemish Nikker, the Icelandic Nykur and many others are all variations of the same creature.

This relation can also be seen in their etymology: most of these names are similar, because they are thought to be derived from an old Germanic term for washing (as in, bathing something in a river, like the horse monsters do with their victims in the stories).

But I’m digressing. One of the most obscure variations of the tale comes from the Shetland Islands. Here, people told stories about the monstrous Njuggel (also called Njogel, Njuggle and in northern Shetland ‘Shoopiltee’ or ‘Sjupilti’). Like its relatives, this creature is an aquatic horse, usually depicted as a horse with fins. It also has a wheel for a tail (or a tail shaped like the rim of a wheel, depending on who you ask), but most modern interpretations drop that detail. Its hooves are backwards.

It lives near waterways and lakes and pretends to be a peaceful horse, taking care to hide its strange tail between its legs. Though it usually takes the form of a particularly beautiful horse, sometimes it is an old, thin horse. When a traveller finds the Njuggel, the creature influences them and convinces them to mount it. When the victim climbs into the saddle however, the creature runs away to the nearest lake to drown its prey. It runs at an extremely high speed, keeping its wheel-tail in the air. After accelerating to a high speed, its hooves burst in flames and its nostrils emit smoke or fire.

The victim cannot dismount, but if they can speak the monster’s name out loud, the Njuggel loses its powers and the victim can escape. What happens then varies between stories: sometimes the creature slows down and can be dismounted, and sometimes he vanishes into thin air.

Sometimes, you can see them at night: such sightings usually involve a white or grey horse emerging from water and run some distance before disappearing in a flash of light.

The Njuggel is not entirely the same creature as the Kelpie and the Ceffyl Dŵr. It has a connection with watermills and demands offerings such as flour and grain. If these gifts cease, it will halt the wheel of its mill. To avoid having to offer grain to this creature, people would light fires when a Njuggel appeared, for they are afraid of flames (usually peat was burned, although throwing a torch also did the trick). There is a story in Tingwall about a group of young men who tried to capture a Njuggel for themselves. They succeeded in chaining the creature but couldn’t hold it for long, and the Njuggel broke free and fled. But the standing stone to which it was chained is still there between the Asta and Tingwall lochs, and the marks that were supposedly made by the chain can still be seen.

Sources: Lecouteux, C., 2016, Encyclopedia of Norse and Germanic Folklore, Mythology, and Magic. Marwick, E., 2020, The Folklore of Orkney and Shetland, Birlinn Ltd, 216 pp. Teit, J. A., 1918, Water-beings in Shetlandic Folk-Lore, as Remembered by Shetlanders in British Columbia, The Journal of American Folklore, 31(120), p.180-201. (image source: Davy Cooper. Illustration for ‘Folklore from Whalsay and Shetland’ by John Stewart)

#Scottish mythology #Shetland mythology #water horse #aquatic creatures #monsters #mythical creatures #mythology

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spacexseven · 2 years

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OHHHH TUNA I HAVE FINALLY BEEN ABLE TO READ UR ANSWER TO MY ASK U ARE SOOO GENIUS and now im VERY curious to hear about ur mermaid chuuya thoughts, if you happen to have any on hand? and since dazai has been ruled out as our siren, who do you think would fit better? maybe chuuya could do it? fyodor kinda seems like the type to me as well. hm siren! chuuya/fyodor and a pirate captain reader.... imagine the tension.

I am so messed up about ur sea monster dazai interpretation what a little aquatic asshole.... I've been thinking of a slight alternate scenario where he might get a bit ahead of himself in his excitement to eat darling, they get just a bit too close and smell SO good. can you really blame him if he goes for the kill a little earlier than planned? but, alas, his little human actually manages to get away from him! him!!!! of all sea creatures this human actually managed to wiggle out of HIS claws! his ego is pretty bruised for a while (as well as his FACE you KICKED him and it REALLY HURT and he thinks it was a bit uncalled for honestly) but then he actually does start to feel lonely, for the first time. not the fake sad fishie routine he pulled on you, genuinely alone. you Were pretty interesting to talk to, he supposes.... and kinda cute, for a human. it rubs salt in the wound when he can occasionally see you walk near the water, hiding behind some human, not daring to venture too near. maybe at first, you fear was funny to him and he'd threateningly flick his tail in the water to watch u lock up, but now if he sees you he goes completely still, wondering (hoping) if you'll get closer. you never do.

anyway, imagine sea monster dazai realizing he has feelings for u and trying to win u back, to very little avail. why do all his presents he leaves for you on the shore scare you? isn't bringing your mate things you've hunted for them a standard courting practice in most species? I mean, he eviscerated them, sure, but don't humans PREFER when fish have their organs and heads removed? hes really not sure what hes not getting right here. what do you MEAN slaughtered sharks aren't gonna work, chuuya?he thought grand gestures were the way to go, should he go for something even bigger? meanwhile ur SHITTING yourself thinking that this awful creature you barely escaped from is gonna crawl up on shore and turn u inside out. well, I mean, you're half right. figuring out how to walk among humans and find you himself IS the next step hes considering, if you keep being stubborn.

- 🩹

AQUATIC ASSHOLE you know i have a huge soft spot for alliteration i love it so much this makes me so giddy

cw yandere characters (chuuya, fyodor, dazai), obsessive behavior, mentions of dismemberment, stalking

here's the thing about siren chuuya...he's literally irresistable. it's not just his singing voice or his pretty eyes or his overall perfect existance—something about him is almost addictive to people. even he doesn't know what part of him it is that makes people swoon so hard for him. so when he meets a regular little human (that is actually the captain of a pretty big ship. he is impressed.) who just Doesn't Care about him, it hurts his pride and goes against his very existance. it makes no sense!

and because chuuya can't have other mers knowing about this and his indisputed title of Best Siren Ever to be taken away, he starts following you around. a lot. what he doesn't know is that he's not the only siren you've got on your tail. from somewhere far away during one of your adventures, you caught the attention of another reknowned siren, because again you didn't seem to be affected by his charm either. no amount of singing or spells or staring into your eyes changed your feelings towards fyodor and it won't change anything towards chuuya either.

so they're left with only one other option.

making you fall for them the human way.

which also means no underhanded tactics, no singing (not that it had any effect on you before) and no contacting any sea witches to help. what they could do was try to court you like humans did each other.

every morning you wake up and you find unnaturally huge fish gutted and waiting for you cook, priceless items from deep under the sea (you're sure, one time, that that was a bag of real gold coins waiting for you), and a few times even dismembered hands and feet. that was a terrifying sight, even for you. coincidentally you'd find out someone who was giving you trouble just happened to lose a limb or two that same day...

it's very likely dazai will lose his patience and try to eat you (very literally) before he realizes he kinda wants to keep you whole. just another day on your boat talking to your poor little victim sea monster friend and all it takes is for you to come a little too close and leave your hand on his claw for a little too long before he's snatching you and dragging you over the side of your boat and into the cold water (his waters, where nobody would help you, little human) ignoring the way you scream and struggle, using his unnaturally strong limbs to hold you in place while he goes for a bite. what he doesnt expect is for you to jab him in the eye, so hard he's sure it will look all ugly and swollen, before scrambling back onto your boat and going back to shore. damn motorboats and their violent little propellers.

and then you don't come back.

he gives you some time, thinking maybe you got a little bruised up and needed the rest (though he would happilly nurse you back to health if you had asked). but you don't show your face near the water for days and days on end, until even he knew it was far too long to be just because you were injured.

it comes to him through the form of chuuya (who considered himself a master at understanding human behavior, having spent a lot of his time around them, watching them gush over him) that you were probably scared of him. which was really nothing new, anyone with any survival instinct would know to be scared, but when it was you who had been so genuine and unbothered by his demeanor, he was a little distraught.

maybe he should apologize.

it was hard when you rarely came near the beach except when you were with someone else, but he managed to leave gifts for you after waving at you, pretending to not see the grimace on your face or the way you shrunk into yourself.

it was even more painful when you just ignored the things he left for you, no matter how much stuff he left or how luxurious of a gift he left, you would just ignore it. he wondered if he deserved such treatment. how was he to know you would get scared so much?

and you wouldn't even let him explain himself. how was he going to apologize if you didn't hear him out? he didn't have any bad intentions, really.

well, if you weren't going to approach him, then he'd have to approach you, right? luckily, he knew some people who owed him some favors—favors big enough to even change his form temporarily.

#yandere bsd #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere dazai #yandere chuuya #yandere fyodor #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bsd x reader #yandere x reader #mermaid chuuya #ask 🐟#anon 🐟#bsd 🐟#dazai 🩹 🐟#i wrote this on the train sorry if it makes no sense :(#mer au 🐟

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