1 | i don't fuck WITH monsters i just fuck 'em

[primarina]

It’s 📆 COCKtober 🍆🎃 u know 😦what😦 that 😏means😏 👀👅

y'all know what to do, just post a toplevel, be as detailed with your monster descriptions as you like and tag around.

we all boning monsters here anyway so no shaming, ofc. go make some money and worry about yourself.

Comments

[idolworship]

( eichi goes down easy, resting his weight near fully on the tentacle at his back, not really of the mind to support himself. the tentacle in his mouth feels weird in the same way the other tentacle does, and he finds this mouth less comparatively sensitive— but he sort of likes it, the strange salty taste of the sea along his tongue, so foreign and new, and the strange bumps and coiling of the tentacle as he runs his tongue along it, sucks it, doesn't even seem to mind if it tries to go deeper, though it may startle him.

even if he did mind, though, he might not be in any state to protest when, ah, ah— he'd made a soft whine at the back of his throat, involuntary, when the tentacle begins pulling out, tightening around him as if reluctant— and then it's grasped sounds and quickened breaths muffling against his occupied mouth when wataru begins to torment him in a systematic fashion, out of tune with one another and giving him no time to rest between ministrations.

it's like a wire sparking, or a flashfire forest, or something broad and pink and red spreading through his mind and body, and he arches into the sensation, as if offering wataru the whole of his body, his body moving disjointed with the thrusts— as if trying to help him hit spots that feel particularly good, his breathing faster when wataru seems to get close, his fingers balling into wataru's hair and tugging so terribly hard—

ah, he feels like he's close already, but he doesn't know the answer to "close to what?"— his pale body, flushed pink, chest spilling loose from his chemise from how he arches toward wataru, seems warmer and warmer. he wants to tell him to stop, but— ah, no, he wants him to keep going, it'd been weird at first but now he's starting to feel good, all of it is. )

[faireleclown]

[ angels are beautiful, he thinks, a single clear thought in a mind muddled by how good this feels, how warm eichi is, the slickness of his hand and how wet his tentacle's getting. he wants to keep playing with his chest, this odd softness, but he wants eichi closer, more, more, more... the tentacle behind him presses him flush against wataru, the tentacles in him suddenly wiggling deeper, wataru's strokes much harder, much quicker, teeth on the juncture of his neck.

no, in it, sinking into the meat, oddly sharp. this, it seems, like his tentacles, is base instinct. it isn't just there; every thrust is accompanied by a new bite, tearing the skin of his shoulder, his collarbone, his chemise. eichi can probably guess what happens to most of wataru's playmates, if they don't get snapped attempting to run. ]

[idolworship]

( it feels strangely satisfying and good to be—what had wataru called it?—filled like this, feeling better the deeper wataru goes—pushes, after a certain point, because either end of him only goes so deep until wataru reaches a point where things aren't meant to go further. but, like eichi's body, his insides have a little give, and wataru can push past that point to a point of discomfort, where he feels a natural sense that wataru's going too deep in—and yet he remains wet and erect, faint sounds muffled deep in his throat, the stimulation ceaseless despite how wataru stretches him cruelly.

or, ah,

maybe that wasn't really the cruel part in comparison to this.

eichi's body has a soft texture of meat, easy to tear through and almost custard-like when thoroughly chewed. the pain registers with some delay through the haze of pleasure coursing through him that's left him defenseless and relaxed, but when he does feel it— ah, his voice is pained and shar, his eyes widen in panic, his halo spins the same, and his wings fan out quickly, beating in fearful confusion as if to escape him away from the threat. the beating is, despite their uneven boning, enough to create a deceent gust, but not enough to move them or break them loose— but it's the instinct of his wings as much as it is wataru's tenteacles' to explore, and so he beats futilely.

he should push— push wataru away, too, but he— mmh, ah, ah, ah, it twists in his body and head the feelings of pain and pleasure with every thrust. his vision blurs with tears from this apparent betrayal, but it's not a betrayal strong enough to beat his heated face; the desperate need to keep wataru near—having been so lonely so long—at odds with with the instinctive need to survive. he does push at wataru, at his chest, but he does it weakly with little force or effect, his arms and body trembling, rendered weak from fear and pain, and from how wataru's tentacles refuse to relent. )

[faireleclown]

[ how delicious ♪

it's been a while since someone fought back like this. faint, but instinctual, and the tentacle behind eichi instead wraps around one of his uneven wings to stop it with whatever force necessary. the skin of his lower half fluctuates between a rainbow of colors, just as before, fanning white as he finally pulls his tentacle from between eichi's thighs.

not for long, the tip of it rubbing tenderly against his clit despite the roughness he's exhibiting elsewhere; he sacrifices balance for another tentacle sliding out from beneath him, curled around something, and while it isn't easy to see it's easy to feel as it gets pushed into eichi, taking advantage of the stretching he'd done before (the other, too, playing with his clit, lets the thicker part of itself keep rubbing as the narrower half slides in after the other tentacle, doubling up apparently something they're a fan of). they don't tip too far over—wataru's tentacles, the ones that are left, cushion them gently into laying on the rock, his hair slipping into the water below—and he doesn't seem to mind, care, anyway, save that he has to switch his biting to eichi's other shoulder, teeth dragging closer to his chest.

it's shortly after this implanting, this teasing, this feeding, that there are a few harder thrusts to make certain everything isn't going anywhere and wataru's tentacles slacken with their grips; the one in eichi's mouth slides out with a soft plop onto his chest, lightly curling wet and warm around his breasts where the chemise has torn. the ones in him similarly follow suit, out of him, trailing down his thighs with little other interest. the one on his wing slips away, resting on his waist, and wataru

is flushed in his human skin too, his octopus half patchy with white and mauve and red; he draws his mouth back up, blood on his lips, to kiss eichi sweetly, like a good bye. ]

It was fun, [ he murmurs hotly, voice strained as if parched—

whether or not eichi's finished, he slips away, back into the water. he needs the hydration, and he's satisfied himself, too; he had fun and he loves this new playmate and he's looking forward to seeing him more...♪ these are the types of readings the scientists will have, so it might be in their best interest to perhaps save this terribly torn up angel, lest wataru go into one of his fits. ]

[idolworship]

( it's his own fault, really, for lulling so easily into a sense of complacency, forgetting the likely danger inherent to the nature of this experiment. he wasn't chosen because he wanted a friend; he was chosen for this— disposable, should things go too far out of hand. at least wataru continues to caress him, and that's the only measure of distraction he finds himself allowed.

his wings beat against the tentacles, but it's not difficult to restrain them. he feels light-headed, feels like he's seeing mostly white, and, despite everything, he responds well - very well - to wataru forcing two tentacles inside him, almost as well as he does to wataru teasing his clit, his body prrsssing against wataru's with a disoriented sort of bliss despite how he'd been trying to push him away before. he's wet and wet and wet; his tears freely dripping freely down his face (ah, it hurts, it hurts), his jaw pushed too wide and saliva spilling from his lips, and the tentacles between his legs drenched sticky and clear with every thrust, clinging sticky to his thighs.

the heat inside him seems to reach a nearly fever pitch, the meat growing easy and pliable to chew, until he makes a sharp sort of gasp not timed with one of wataru's bites, but after the final few thrusts- and his body trembles as he arches upwards, wrapping his arms loose and weak around wataru's neck despite himself. and then his body falls limp, like there's no energy left in it, his wings fanning into the water and his halo slow.

he doesn't respond to the kiss or the farewell, overwhelmed by emotion and sensation, but he does register them clearly. blindly while lying there, he ... reaches for the space beside him, vaguely patting the rock until he finds the shell he was gifted at the start. he brings it to his chest, curled tight as he can manage in his palm, and his panicked breathing slows as he closes his eyes.


several minutes later, when it seems sure that wataru is done with his business and he isn't likely to come back up, the usual robot model (small with rounded edges and moves with a glide) elevates from beneath the sand. it generally comes to collect the remains of wataru's companions, as it does here; just, eichi happens to stil be alive, for the moment. though small, it shifts its mechanisms into something thin enough to scoop eichi up under it, at which point it functions like a stretcher. it quickly hurries into a small entrance that opens by the wall as if from nothing, sealing itself back up quite instantly. creating entry and exit points wataru cant get into is quite the headache.

some hours later, after assessing eichi and determining the brood would take to his body, and that wataru seems to have taken a liking to him, the scientists - through speakers - inform wataru that they have good news: his playmate would be back for him once they finish patching him up, and he may return even sooner if wataru behaves. (there's no truth to this, though; it's only bargaining, to avoid further incidents.)

in the meantime, they attempt to have wataru continhe with his other experiments, whether in that room or otherwise - business as usual, as if eichi has never happened. optimism has them hoping he may briefly forget about his companion for awhile, as it'll take two to three weeks to not only fix him up, but to install regenerative properties to ensure a longer study. just, it's like trying to install hardware to a piece of tissue paper - difficult to do with something so delicate, and so it takes time. if wataru asks where he is, they simply say he's "coming along" and will be back soon. very rarely anything new, and they avoid making promises with certainty that he Will be back, because, as much as they'd like to continue this experiment, they can't control whether or not the minor remodeling of eichi's body will be successful. )

[faireleclown]

[ "coming along" being the answer for everything isn't satisfactory; he's not half as interested in other experiments, performing solo as usual but anything like they'd given him for eichi left untouched; he won't even come out of the water, watching them from the depths until they're just taken away, or they starve, or whatever. no; eichi has an iron grip on his mind, the only angel he's met, while everyone else that arrives is a multiple of something or another.

he collects shells at the bottom of this tank, of other ones; he collects little trinkets from other biomes he's put into too, when it becomes obvious he has little desire to come out of the sea water of his own. there isn't very much they can do with him, given he can dry out, but fresh water is a painful exercise in breathing. he can live, but it hurts,

but no one interests him the same way.

besides, there's children on the way, if it all works out. he asks for a cave in his tank after a few weeks; one with a route into it through the water, so he can go in, but on the surface, so his playmate won't have to drown. he speaks with certainty where the scientists won't, not thinking that eichi wouldn't come back—misshapen and strange, he seemed perfectly wonderful, after all—and, as the days grow longer, as eichi doesn't appear, he begins to break things here and there. drains stuffed with seaweed, the door to his area somehow broken (the card key pad, filled with water and ink), entire swatches of the beach painstakingly pulled into the water with his tentacles when he's left unwatched for too long.

he wants eichi, he explains, whenever he's scolded. when's he coming back? it's already been too long, he has a lot of gifts for him. ]

[idolworship]

( ah, octopodes have no appreciation for science.

while wataru's dedication to his successful mate is clinically fascinating, the consequences of it are, needless to say, inconvenient. this is especially true for the interns, who are the ones generally left to clean up after him.

they're simply trying to ensure he comes back well, they finally have to say, resorting to more human appeals of rhetoric that they aren't fond of using with their subjects (the more you speak to something like it's human, the more likely you are to think of it as one, is all). wataru's cannibalism, though natural to him, isn't something angels are meant to handle ... he has very nearly died, is all, and it isn't easy to fix.

(this is spoken with a little bit of frustration from an intern who had been left to handle another one of wataru's messes).

eventually, though, the cave to wataru's specifications is built, with design and details according to wataru's preference to placate him. later, closer toward the end of eichi's absence, are trees erected - trees with branches usually not found so near the shore, and sturdy enough to support several times wataru's weight. the trees stand as tall off the ground as they are able without hitting the ceiling. with enough dexterity wataru can make his way on them too, but it's a little apparent these aren't meant for him. still, they don't promise anything.

they announce eichi's return about a day in advance, mostly doing last minute tests to prove he was sturdy as he now should be. and, come his actual arrival (announced with some fanfare to the tune of, "but really, now behave"), eichi is placed inside the biome much in the regular way he was placed before.

he looks much like before, if a little better: his halo brighter and with clearer-dined star patterns on its rings, his wings less crooked, and his skin noticeably unbroken and unscarred. he's in a loose, white chemise like before, if slightly more flowing and intricate, and the babydoll cut almost nearly hides the fine curve of his stomach.

he briefly surveys the area, takes note of the changes, and, whether he doesn't see wataru or he does, quite instantly beats his wings to take him up to the highest branch of the tallest tree. )

... Wataru~ ♪

( he calls with a faint lilt to his voice, as if he hadn't just placed a million miles of separation between them. he assumes there's no use hiding from wataru, though; the tank is only so big. besides, eichi doesn't look wary- mostly he looks guarded. he's figured out the Incident from their previous encounter was likely an element of wataru's mating, and so he doubts wataru will do it again unprompted, but ... )

[faireleclown]

[ more solid answers incline him to being a little more cooperative, or at least a little less destructive, and as soon as his cave is finished (plain but with hooks in it, with a chest of string and baubles for wataru to play with) he sets to decorating it. the gifts he has for eichi, all he's collected and then some, get placed delicately around the cave, moved every so often despite the level of content he is with their position. this sort of thing, nitpicky and finicky, that's different than usual.

it's what he's doing when eichi gets deposited in again, the sound of wing beats breaking his concentration—did they leave him another guest? no, he wants—

ah, that voice.

he slides beneath the water and reappears out of the cave, glancing wildly around. eichi, eichi, he heard him, he... he hesitates, not seeing him immediately. not at the place he'd found him before, or on the shore, and he turns his attention to the strange, tall things they'd put in here not too long ago. the white of eichi's being sticks out like a sore thumb, and he smiles wide, trailing to the edge of the shore. onto the sand, but the water still washes over his tentacles in small, short waves—a happy medium, out here. ]

Eichi! [ he's so .... high up there, like a bird out to stay away, and ... wataru's tentacles curl beneath him, his palms flat on the sand. ah ... well, it's understandable, given ... he recognizes that much, the distance is due to his actions, in his own thoughts and in the not-so-kindly-way the interns had put, but he draws his hair over his shoulder and keeps smiling anyway. ] Eichi, Eichi...♪ Come down! How are we supposed to talk like this?

[idolworship]

Hmm~mmmm, I wonder...?

( ... but he softens a little bit, recognizing fondness in wataru's voice, and ... a desire for eichi's company, even— ah, how the tables have turned. eichi can't really say he hates wataru for what happened, or that he's even particularly averse to him— not to any extent worth cutting off his only company in such a long time, anyway, and extraordinary company at that. just, you know. wataru had done what he'd done innocently, and he'd put eichi through that hell of a recovery unknowingly, and eichi wants to give him a little bit of a hard time for that.

it'd be much nicer to flit down beside him and see if he'll take eichi close, perhaps not in the same way but still close and just that would satisfy him; but, at the same time, he'd like his feelings heard, is all. (the general justification for pettiness everywhere.)

so he slides down from where he stands on a branch into a proper sit, evidently inclined not to come down so soon. he leans over, a hand to keep him steady where he's perched— then leans back again, thrown off-balance by the weight at his abdomen that troubled his balance and flying. that was . . . another thing to express, perhaps more articulately than his upset over being bit up. )

Is the cave new...? I don't recognize it.

[faireleclown]

It is! It's for you. ♪ [ he shifts back into the water for a moment, sinking beneath the gentle waves; there's a soft splash in the cave and wataru drags himself from it, flopping onto the shaded sand it provides. his tentacles curl around him and in front of him, and while he's latently figuring out how much length he'll need to drag eichi down from there himself. ] I collected many, many presents for you. ♪ Shells! From the sea and other places! There's even a... What was it called...?

[ ...he waves a hand, settling his cheek against it after. ]

"Turtle"? It's my biggest! Though the "turtle" was small, and it was hard to get out of its shell...♪

[ whether he's talking about a real turtle or one of the attempts at the "kappa" the scientists have is up for debate, but it matters not to him, not really. his expression dims after a moment, just slightly, and he pulls himself out of the shade a little, tentacles curling after him. towards his tree. ]

Eichi, Eichi... How are you? Someone said I almost killed you. [ harsh words, rolling softly from his mouth. ] You look fine! But how are you?

[idolworship]

( for him, huh... he wants to see. he doesn't get to go to other biomes much, and that they're gifts for him...

he doesn't miss the tentacle, and he debates, for a moment, the safety of moving ... probably fine this time, he thinks, before his tentacle is too extended. he isn't inclined to get snapped out of the air like a bird shot by an arrow.

he pushes up from where he'd just sat, his wings beating again - taking him to a branch to a nearby tree. it's not far, and so easy to change directions for, it's just inconvenient. )

Mm. They fixed me up. ( he slips down onto the branch to sit again, as if toning had happened. ) I suppose you didn't mean it, but my body is quite delicate ... one little bite, and the whole thing destabilizes. I would have told you in advance, but you didn't warn me for what you were doing, did you?

( :). there'd been traces of him left on the rock after he was take away - little drops of strange liquid on the rock, erring on gold, that melted with water. )

... It hurt, you know? It was terribly scary. ( and, unfortunately, felt wonderful, but. ) And I couldn't even speak, or tell you how I felt. But I suppose you don't have much interest in how I feel...?

[faireleclown]

[ what a conclusion to come to.

...not a wrong conclusion, but only because it hasn't really occurred to him, to have an interest in it; he tilts his head, eyebrows pressed together, and he turns to follow eichi. but now that it has, now that it's been pointed out to him ... should he? maybe like the scientists, with pens and paper and clipboards. wataru draws himself up a little more, pushing himself up with his tentacles and sort of slouching his way closer, significantly less mobile on land despite his better efforts and his arms.

being bit hurt, being eaten scary; he catalogs that even angels feel these things, no matter how receptive they might be to him, and feels a little hurt for it himself. ]

Does that mean you don't want to play again?

[idolworship]

( he's quiet for some moments, minding the careful articulation of wataru's expression, his clumsy manner in land. the question hangs there below him, and he weighs not the question itself but whether he is satisfied.

well, he decides, he shouldn't spurn him too much. if he begins to feel sour, there's not much coming back from that, and— he is being disengenuous, somewhat, with how he felt. he has been upset and scared, but the rest he's chosen to withhold.

finally his wings flare again, like he's about to flit off again, and he pushes off ... to descend, this time, with such a gentle glide it seems almost like he's floating, weightless. (his chemise does flutter some, but this time he seems to be wearing white underwear this time.) he betrays the impression once he lands though, faltering a little— it's been a long time since he'd had the freedom to fly or land, and his sense of balance is still vague.

he looks to wataru, standing, unsure or whether to move closer or to let wataru close the distance, like he had last time. still, it's ... strange, to stand, and look down at wataru who seems so much smaller on land, and so ... palm against the trunk of the tree, he soundlessly slides down, to kneel down against the sound. )

... How did I taste?

( which doesn't. answer the question, but. to eichi, it—and all of this—sort of does. )

[faireleclown]

[ that doesn't answer the question, but it isn't a no. is there a wrong answer to this one, or is this one of those opinion questions he's asked sometimes? those never really matter, except maybe when it comes to food or the color of his coral; it's just a question asked to be asked, not to have an answer listened to.

but.

eichi's different. wataru moves a little closer, tentacles reaching out briefly before they curl in on each other again, further and further until they're back pressed against wataru's middle like a weird skirt.

...how did he taste? ]

You didn't taste like anything. [ wataru hums, playing with the ends of his tentacles. ] But you had a good feel. Soft and warm and nice! Tender...? Melty

[idolworship]

( well, he doesn't suppose wataru would be less than tentative about coming near him with the show eichi made of his annoyance. expected, but still a little lonely.

he draws up his knees halfway to rest an elbow on one, resting his jaw against the slanted back of his hand. he looks at wataru with a sort of ... interest, a little different than his starstruck gaze of before, a little bit flattered by wataru's assessment. he is a bit disappointed to hear he had no taste, but he has a guess as to why.

(he doesn't think his disappointment is strange, though. if he had to go through the sudden shock of being fed upon, he might as well have been entirely worth the trouble.) )

Mmm . . . That sounds about right, I think. Of my kind, I was always the warmest, physically—most malleable, consequently. "Soft," in your words.

( nicer than the words used by the scientists. he watches toy with his own tentacles, a sort of shyness uncharacteristic to the wataru he'd met last time. it makes him feel somewhat pleased, having been the cause of it. )

. . . You're strange, though. Smooth, with a strange bend; bumpy along the underside. ( especially when . . . mm, his wings settle against his back, resting. ) You're not unlike the things I used to be put with, to see how we'd interact. They were all sorts of sharp edges; a little bit rough, and . . .

( ... he offers a hand, a finger partly outstretched, as if to invite a perched bird. )

. . . Perhaps I dislike your texture a little less, I think.

[faireleclown]

[ only a little less? wataru shambles a little closer, just enough for a tentacle to slide around eichi's finger— then his hand— wrist— slowly along his arm, wataru leaning forward. its grip tightens, like it's going to pull eichi over, but it doesn't. ]

I'd like it more if you said you loved how I felt! This is all I can be, after all! [ besides, besides, he seemed to dislike it a lot less, before, but he supposes before he was more inclined to loving just about anything. another tentacle winds its way over as wataru moves closer, sliding around eichi's ankle. ] You're strange to me, anyway. Everything I get to play with is firm. You're very giving.

[idolworship]

( ah, it's a little alarming how quickly wataru takes to him, but he doesn't recoil at the very least. it's an outcome of a few he expected when he offered his hand, so it'd be silly to regret it. )

If I told you so soon that I like it, then you wouldn't be very motivated to continue to impress me, would you?

( honest, but cheekily so. he lets his fingers glide along the smooth face of wataru's tentacle as it works its way up his arm, straightening up as another seems to take claim of his ankle. he wonders they do this because wataru misses having an eichi to poke at, or if it's purely automatic. )

Intended symbolism of my generation aside, angels aren't meant to have a single set form, so I suppose they thought the best way to manage it was to make us very flexible.

( wataru didn't ask, but, despite what happened before, he still wants someone to talk to, still ... wants to talk to wataru, a little. )

... Is how I feel to your taste? Or is it a little too strange for you?

( he can guess wataru's answer based on everything wataru's said so far, he just wants to hear it despite denying the same thing of wataru earlier, )

[faireleclown]

[ oh, how cruel!! and it's a little of both, with wataru pulling himself closer, his tentacles snaking further. the one on his arm reaches his face and curls around his ear, almost comfortingly. almost because it is ... very much ... a tentacle, which isn't something that really lends itself to that, but. ]

They seem to like it, [ referring to his tentacles, ] so isn't that answer enough...? Eichi, Eichi... It's weird, but in a good way! If they're not meant to just look like this, then angels can be anything they want, can't they? How amazing.

[idolworship]

( mmh ... it does feel weird, but his body recalls the sensation of it, the tentacles winding around him, pressing against the corner of his mouth and pressing in, while a little lower, he...

between the ill-timed recollection and the praise he turns his gaze away to see if he can catch what the other tentacles are getting to, bringing around his other hand to his ear to see if he can coax the tentacle onto it. )

"Anything" might be something of an exaggeration... But I appreciate the esteem. I'm not generally paid very much mind given my usual fragility, so...

( ... praise him more,

but he doesn't say that, because that might make him look kind of sad, but wataru's pretty voice and the lovely inflection of his voice when he seems impressed— ah, he could die (almost did, but it's so hard to remain in a sour mood now that he's begun talking to him again). he bows his head to shade any unduly pleased expression he might be wearing, winding the tentacles between his fingers if he can manage to coax it, kind of toying with it. )

... But I still think you're all the more impressive. You never told me what you were, did you? You can change color, and I've never seen things ( the tentacles, ) quite like this before you.

And I heard a little bit, too, the sort of mischief you've been up to... You can produce a thing called "ink," can't you? I heard you filled some mechanism with it. I never knew you were the sort to cause trouble.

[faireleclown]

[ the tentacle's easy to coax into his hand, curling in it lazily; it slips between his fingers easily too, sliding through them and wrapping around his wrist a little awkwardly. the other tentacles are staying put, generally, though they dig into the sand like they'd Like to do something else. ]

They weren't answering me! [ so, clearly, he had to do Something. ] I wanted you back, and all they'd tell me was that things were coming along, or that you'd be back soon... Nothing sure. The only way to get their attention is to misbehave a little, and they don't punish me... ♪

[ it would be bad to hurt their star experiment even on accident, after all.

...wataru is a little more aware of his privilege than he lets on. ]

I asked them too, what I am. [ a soft laugh. ] They were bored with "surface mermaids," and wanted to try something close to the "deep sea"... They have another one somewhere else in this place that glows in the dark... Isn't that incredible? I wish I could do that! It doesn't get to have playmates though, since it needs to be under such pressure... To that end, I prefer being like this more...♪

[ he gets eichi, after all. ]

[idolworship]

( wanted him back ... ugh, it really is hard to stay angry with him, given it really is entirely like s dream for anyone to tell him this, never mind the star of this facility, or one of the very top ones. )

Mmm... Well, if you wanted my opinion, I think ...

( ... he brings up the tentacle wound around his fingers and kisses it lightly-- nowhere near the tip, because he knows if any of them get into him he'll not want to resist it. )

... I like you just the way you are... ♪ You're an endless sort of fun, I think, despite your habits. It was so dull when they took me away.

( "dull" is not the word he would really use, but, sure, a portion of it was. he missed wataru more than he would admit, but he doesn't surprise himself; wataru's the only feasible playmate he has, and... he's charming, and wonderful, even in the brief time they knew each other. )

Are the trees and the cave, too, the perks of being favored? ( offerings like him in a sense. he tilts his head, rubbery side of the tentacle brushing his cheek. ) Is the cave for sleeping in? You were in it when I returned.

[faireleclown]

The cave is for you! The trees [ he says the word like he isn't used to it, and he isn't; is that what they're called? how curious, he can see it ] are for you too, I think.

[ it's not like he has any inclination to climbing, after all. wataru, encouraged by eichi's softness, his fond words, lets himself move closer, until he's settled in front of him properly, his tentacles spread around them both. ]

The cave is for... [ he pauses, peering down, and settles his hands on eichi's chemise, and corrects himself slightly: ] Us! There's water inside, but it's dry and cool and private. There are shelves and shells and trinkets! And string. ♪

[ he rubs the fabric between his fingers, and, ] Can I see? ♪ Eichi, can I see?

[idolworship]

String? That's terribly specific.

( little does he know,

he can't say he's honestly alarmed wataru moves closer, given this intimacy is something he missed--fantasized about--while away. he hesitates, still, memories of being bitten still fresh, and...

still lightly places one hand on wataru's shoulder, fingers lightly tangling with his hair. ah, he's hopeless. )

Mm, I don't mind. So you know what you've done, don't you?

( a guess, since he doesn't think his stomach is that fascinating unless you're expecting something fascinating about it.

his stomach, once uncovered, seems the equivalent of a human's second or so month, venturing into the third, with a noticeable curve. it has slight give like the rest of him, but noticeably much less, his stomach being a little more protected. )

Do you do this with everyone you play with? You have to know I was an emotion transcending surprise when I was told.

[faireleclown]

[ wataru hums softly, setting a hand on it... how strange... ]

No one I play with lives to that part. [ it's said idly, much more occupied with the sight of his pregnancy. he rubs it gently, noticing the lessened give, especially as he moves his hand up past it to eichi's chest. definitely less... is this how angels protected their children? hmm, hmmm....?

...? is there a reason for that? he had the string specifically installed... well, maybe it's only like one of those bubble chests... ] So it was my first time too! I wonder if they'll look more like me or you... Will they need the water? Hmmm, hmmm, I wonder... ♪

[idolworship]

( hmmm, ominous, but having nearly died he can see why, )

I would have preferred you say it was because I was particularly interesting.

( that he did this, he means. granted, he's not terribly offended-- most things here operate on instinct; even eichi himself, though he makes a good show of not seeming like it. )

I can't really be sure, though-- my kind's never been bred; we're too unstable, generally, to bear anything. Whether through miracle or sheer determination, yours managed to take hold.

( the children, though ... he hadn't thought about what they'd be like, only that he'd have to bear them, or it, or whatever. his hand looses from wataru's hair, where he comes to rest it gently on his stomach-- not really voicing any complaint as to how or where wataru chooses to touch him at the moment. )

... It'd be better if they took after you, I think. I'd hate for them to be the kind to melt so easily, like angels. ( mmm... his stomach, too, feels particularly warm, which he finds more a bother than anything else - it leaves the rest of him feeling much colder. ) Perhaps a little like you, but malleable like me ... Then none of the scientists will be able to trap them, I think. Ah, perhaps they'll even escape...

( doubtful, but an interesting thought. a moment, considering... what they'll be like, huh... )

... Well, if we keep them fed and cared for, they'll likely end up well. ( probably. ) And when it'll be a surprise, whatever we end up with... ♪