my love burning like a dying star, the blood from my soul, do you hunger for more?
creatursfeturs/ted/thesillie
number one monsterpounder
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I take asks and requests for short but immersive few-sentence stories. I mostly only make them of eldritch horrors, aliens, monsters, etc. I WILL NOT WRITE HETEROSEXUAL STUFF THO (I have some bad experiences with writing hetero shit so please be mindful of that and just plainly heterosexual and heteromantic people in general so!!) (that is gross to me)!!!! I prefer to write agender/any gender or agender/male but male/male and female/female are also good choices so also be mindful of that!!! I will usually use the sentence outlines of “Imagine..” “I want..” or some other variation of those sentence starters.
HOW TO ASK AND REQUEST WRITING:
You don’t have to follow any specific ask template or anything. Just clearly state the premise you want in the story or a SHORT story plot line (as I said before, most of my writing are very short and only a few sentences long so yeah) or some other variation of those two request thingy majingies. If you want me to write a longer one for you, then describe what you want thoroughly and maybe give a few key plot lines in your ask!!
BE MINDFUL THAT I HAVE A REALLY WACKY SCHEDULE SO I PROBABLY WON’T SEE YOUR ASK UNTIL A FEW HOURS OR EVEN A DAY/A FEW DAYS LATER!!
NO HEAVILY NSFW OR EXPLICIT ASKS:
Please restrain from asking for outright sexual and explicit writes from me. Suggestive content is okay as long as it doesn’t cross the line of being actually sexual and explicit.
MY MAIN AGE TARGET FOR THIS BLOG IS 14+-15+!!!! ANYONE UNDER 14+ IS STRICTLY ASKED TO VIEW ANOTHER BLOG!! I JUST WANT YOU GUYS TO BE HAPPY AND SAFE!! :]
Yeah. Anyways.
One last thing: Have fun in this doomed romance shithole I call my blog!!
I wanna put this out there before anything else comes out about it, but i have a theory (or possible explanation ig??) as to why we're getting a whole new group of minions in the new Minions and Monsters movie
I think Illumination is gonna pull some 'oh, these Minions are actually apart of a different tribe than the ones you saw before! That's why they're not in hiding!' bs
Like that's genuinely the only reason I can rationalize in my head.. because the whole point of the 1st movie is to show that the Minions were HIDING until the 60s. I refuse to believe these new Minions are apart of the same tribe
I honestly believe that this is probably going to be the reason why they aren’t in hiding but I’d like to add more:
I lowkey, based on what I’ve seen so far, feel like they are the only “Dreamers” of the Minion species (Lovecraft (eugh) Mythos-wise) (it’s basically people (or things) that can visit the Dreamlands (eldritch alternate universe) in their sleep), which probably gives them a little bit more intelligence (or plot armor lol) than other minions, which makes me think that they have some sort of ties to Goomi (The Great Dreamer (Cthulhu)) or something like that. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling something else might happen there.
I wanna put this out there before anything else comes out about it, but i have a theory (or possible explanation ig??) as to why we're getting a whole new group of minions in the new Minions and Monsters movie
I think Illumination is gonna pull some 'oh, these Minions are actually apart of a different tribe than the ones you saw before! That's why they're not in hiding!' bs
Like that's genuinely the only reason I can rationalize in my head.. because the whole point of the 1st movie is to show that the Minions were HIDING until the 60s. I refuse to believe these new Minions are apart of the same tribe
I get that most people feel that the despicable me movies have gone downhill but. WHY HAS ABSOLUTELY NO ONE BEEN TALKING ABOUT CTHULLU BEING CANNON? THE AMOUNT OF IMPLICATIONS OF THIS IS FUCKING INSANE
”love thy neighbor” until it’s people of color, transgender people, gay people, LGBTQIA+ people, disabled people, ill people, people with different beliefs/religions, alternative people, masculine women, feminine men, women in general, etc.
Hey! Since your requests are open, I was wondering if it was okay to request BEN (the behavioural something network one) where reader is in like, a wholesome dream with the moon children? I’m not to well versed in the arg lore of BEN, but I’m pretty sure they can some how cause nightmare and dreams where they appear, so just wanted to request what a good dream reader would be having with them in it would be like
FANFIC MASTERLIST CREEPYPASTA MASTERLIST REQUESTS
BEN Drowned; “ᠻꪖ꠸᥅ꪗ”
|| Word Count: 1.1K || Angst → (kind of twisted) fluff ||
Warnings: A lot of talk of blood & implied violence
A/N: I don't know how much I stuck to the wholesome side of this request lmao 😭 sorryyyy, like always I have to make all my writing questionably deep, but I was listening to the ocarina of time fairy fountain theme slowed on loop, and this is what my mind came up with 🙃 so enjoy, and look out for poppy playtime fics coming your way soon too - requests are open for the bigger bodies if you've got any ideas 📩
I probably went overboard with my descriptive writing in this fanfic lol
Every ounce of yourself slips away when you dream. Flushed out like water, like the ocean; pulling back, numbing your senses, dulling the lights to complete blackness. And then you come back as something like yourself again, when the tide comes back in, salt spray stinging your eyes, your nose, spattering your skin in beads of transparent freckles. What you felt - just a whisper of a touch - was amplified in electric jolts, like the world in your head was echoing, pulsing with your blood, every nonexistent slip of skin sending sparks coursing through to the bone, hazy and dreamy and distant, but agonisingly strong.
His skin - their skin - is cold, burning cold. It is tanned to a soft, honey brown, but solid and etched in deep, piercing eyes and beaming grin. Their hair is smooth and silky between your fingers. You barely register yourself reaching up to touch it, an arm wavering and extending out from atop of your sheets into the dark midair, and into the murky brightness of the dream's sky. But when you do, those shockwaves greet you with full, overwhelming force, like a drug, spiralling up your wrist and arms, boiling blood shooting into your brain and releasing in an electric shudder. A harsh breath escapes you at the action.
His eyes sparkle with dark laughter.
It is slow to register it all, never quite knowing when a dream starts, everything in it still forming before and around you as you existed in a haven that was nowhere and everywhere. Something dried and crimson stained a grass patch a stretch of a distance away from you, the grass warm and pastel to your eyes. It was bare and blackened to Alex's. His gifted mask was left bloodied and ripped amongst the flora of pinpricked white daisies, empty eyeholes stuck through by the green blades. A different shudder racked through your body when your stare lingered on it.
Hushing came from every direction - from the skies, which were blanketed with glittering silver-lined clouds and azure sleepy blues, from the ground beneath your curled up form, from the wind, murmuring in your head. Of course their mouth didn't move when they spoke to you. It didn't need to. This was his land.
The grasses flailed in seawater for a brief moment, your hands licked clean by the wetness, before it disappeared as soon as you glanced down to see it.
"You come. Come back to us. I've been waiting. He's been waiting since dawn."
The voice of seventeen children of the Moon, flowing together in a broken harmony. The sky glitched, froze into a sickening green, then returned to its clouded blues, cast over by the new night.
The water shifted, then lapped somewhere behind you. Your head swam and ached by turning to see it, but when you did, you could almost feel yourself smiling.
The fairy fountain pooled around the stone pillars and high standing circle, the water alight and glowing with pure turquoise. Rosy pink lights danced and bobbed over the surface, tiny white wings hovering and fluttering in their wake. The Ocarina.
BEN.
They said nothing else. Their smile never faltered, the pupils of his eyes expanded to cover their depths. An intensity of so many stares, all in one, watching you, reading you. Craving you.
And you were already theirs. Already his.
Everything's a horrifying, dizzying rush after the sweet calmness of the moment. Bronze hands grabbed onto yours, a tight, firm hold, and your senses reacted violently, jaw dropping and eyes widening at the almost sickening feeling of touch from a place like this. A place, a dream, that has been broken and shattered, reaching for reality but not quite there. Hands crossing beyond the boundary of what's imagined, what is and what is not, honing onto physics after mastering and manipulating the mind.
Fingers dug into your skin, round, unhinged eyes boring into yours. Their face is right in your stunned stupor, breaths nonexistent. To look at them too long is enough to kickstart a sort of madness. He won't ever stop smiling.
When damp, lightning lips pressed against your own, the fountain swam in itself, painting itself that same stark neon green, glitching in digital squares of black and white and red, flashing up into the clouds before sparking out. They taste of apples and chlorine and a subtle sweetness, and it floods your senses with their tongue, green locks tickling the skin of your flushed cheeks. What can be felt has been made numb, returning with full force every few seconds, enough to get drunk off of. A heat that's freezing cold and bright with electric charge, and something else, something new and ancient, a secret, under the Moon.
Blood drips, then ʂpiʅʅʂ like the fountain, down your back, running over the grassy grounds beneath you like honey, painting the greens red. Then blue. Then red again. It doesn't hurt.
BEN's smile grows when they let out a gleeful chortle, not at all deterred. A mocha hand dips down to slide through the redness, soaking it up, eyes deepening into midnight voids. Their lips are slightly swollen, and they grin contentedly. They want to do it again.
They know you do too.
Wings have grown from the watering of blood. They are dainty and delicate, glossed with angel white, slightly see-through and glittered with Divine Magic. From over the hill, the Mask Salesman watches on, at the sweet sight of BEN and his Mo❍n. The Children are laughing, they are playing and singing in discorded celestia, spinning around maypoles and bunting in navy and silver and white and gold.
In the still darkness of the night, your bedroom hums and glows with the light of your computer, at the corner of your desk. It glows that same green, flickers with your pulse.
Arms hold you tightly. They coil like snakes, and strangle like one too, squeezing tightly, grin sharpening in turn. You do not fight it. You will not fight the bite of a Moon Child's love.
Their lips drag against your skin, wetting the skin of your cheek and the corner of your mouth slightly with the movement, forehead pressing against yours. BEN's gaze locks onto your big Bambi blinks, transfixed. When you relax in their hold, they hold you closer, your skin aching against the feeling of the blazing chill. Your blood is electric and raw in your veins, pupils dilated.
Pennywise doesn't care about you, he doesn't love you nor does he care about your feelings or pain. what he DOES care about tho is your undying devotion and loyalty to him and for this reason alone he keeps you alive also because he can use your body however it so pleases! IT's ego is so big he'll never let his most loyal worshiper go:)
all that started because you made him discover what pleasure felt like and now you're reeking the consequences.
IT does not feel like humans do so his pleasure comes at the price of your pain, disgust and terror. he will shapeshift in your worst fears while rutting in you. from something more akin to the human realm to feeling slithering inside you, you name it he'll do it. remember! he can see into your mind so if you think "don't fuck me in the spider form" guess what! he'll do just that. it's his favorite form to shift to while he's buried deep inside you anyway. you're always fearing IT's gonna lay his eggs in your womb which he does, more than once;) its mixed in with impossible amounts of his thick fluids.. lets just say it's raining between your legs!
if you tell it to stop, he won't. if you ask it to conjure you a request, he won't. you're HIS plaything not the other way around. he will accept only one thing from you tho and that is making a couple tentacles, big and small, roam your innards while also creating multiple spiky little tongues that crawl over your entire body and leave small cuts as they go, leaving your skin covered in slime and blood.
does it hurt? yes. it hurts like hell, but its soon replaced by the clown's warm tongue licking your wounds, closing them up only for those little projections of his to open new ones. those hot tentacles feel like bliss inside you, his clawed hand squeezing around your throat while the other is digging in your hips make you roll your eyes. your cries of pain make it's grip tighter and his claws draw even more blood. you know this monster is enjoying himself when you hear low snarls and growls coming from deep within it's chest. its the only scenario where you both share mutual pleasure.
the deadlights do come in play when you least expect it. your terror intensifies his lust so its a given he'll use them to his advantage!
he’ll test the limits of what your body can take. IT isn't stupid, he doesn't want to kill you because if he does his fun stops, so he'll bring you close to death but not quite enough to kill you. in some evil and twisted way he cares for you in that sense. he loves that macabre teasing of his and aa painful as it is so do you!
your relashionship with the clown is quite horrific yet addictive. it is also very transactional and one sided, but even after all the suffering he makes you go through, you can't help yourself from wanting more.
