SerassStarryNightWorks

Camping is forbidden, horny wendigos in the area

:3 you should listen to waarrrning dear....

Personal Bitch

Sometimes i love turning my discord girls into something...more submissive, like i did to Jigglyrought ;3

Dungeons and Maids

The wind howled through the shattered arches of the Ruins of Vaer’En-Dol, ancient stones etched with glowing runes and lost prayers. The land trembled with arcane pressure, an unnatural magic humming beneath the cracked marble floor like something old and dangerous was waking up.

Steel clashed with stone as Sir Galen, knight of the Flamebound Order, skidded to a stop beside a collapsed column. His chest heaved as he turned to his party. “He’s here,” he growled. “I can feel the magic surging. We have to stop him now.”

Behind him, Elaeli, the elven sorceress, clutched her staff with trembling fingers. “This place... it amplifies magic. If he completes the ritual here, we won’t be able to stop what comes through.”

A hiss came from the shadows — Varric, the rogue, already cloaked in black mist, peered ahead. “He’s in the sanctum. I saw him enter the central chamber. There’s a circle. A book. Floating candles. Classic end-of-the-world nonsense.”

From behind them, Orrek, the half-orc barbarian, cracked his knuckles and smirked. “Good. I was getting bored.”

With weapons drawn and spells at the ready, the hero party rushed forward, down the steps of a crumbling cathedral altar. Every footstep echoed like a heartbeat as the glow ahead intensified. At the center of the sanctum, surrounded by ancient relics and hovering stones, stood the warlock — draped in black, eyes wide with manic glee.

“You’re too late!” he shouted, arms raised toward the swirling void above the circle. “I have discovered a summoning unlike any other! The book called to me! It showed me how to command a weapon of destruction, a demon of legend!”

Elaeli’s eyes widened. “What book?!”

He gestured toward the floating tome. It spun midair, pages fluttering. The cover read: “Interdimensional Conjurations for the Petty and Bored” – Limited Edition Compiled by Belladonna, Prank Goddess, Casual Apocalyptist.

Galen blinked. “Wait, what?”

The warlock ignored them. “By the blood of ancients, by the names lost to time, I summon thee—!” The magic pulsed outward, ripping the air open. “—Serass Starry Night! Answer my call!”

The ground split. The candles snuffed out. A rift opened in the center of the summoning circle, and with a crack of light, something emerged. Something in heels.

“Pop.” There was a soft noise, like a pastry being set on a tray. And there she was. Serass Starry Night, lilim of terrifying beauty and casual malevolence, stood in the middle of the circle holding a tray of half-melted tarts, her café uniform still pristine — save for a little smear of jam on the corner of her frilly apron. Her white hair flowed with a mind of its own. H

Her sapphire-blue eyes sparkled with the kind of cold fury normally reserved for power outages and bad Yelp reviews.

She looked down at the glowing sigils. Then up at the warlock. Then to the hero party. And finally, to her pastries.

“...Are you fucking serious?” She stepped forward. Her heels clicked. “I had three tables left. Aqua was restocking the blood pudding muffins. Lily was almost about to confess something scandalous. And now I’m in a rock pit with medieval cosplay rejects and a man holding a magic book labeled ‘Pranks Volume 6’?”

The warlock stumbled backward, already sweating. “Y-you’re Serass Starry Night, right?! The tome said you’d destroy my enemies!”

Serass narrowed her eyes. “I manage a café. I train new hires. I bake at 450 degrees Fahrenheit. And I murder on commission.” The tarts on her tray vibrated with latent magic. One of them exploded.

The air still shimmered with residual summoning magic as the warlock stared up at Serass, trembling.

“You… You’re not what I expected,” he muttered.

Serass exhaled slowly, like a weary barista who had just been told someone wanted a quadruple soy half-sweet no-foam unicorn latte... right before closing. She tucked the tray of half-melted pastries under one arm. Then she wound up her other hand — delicately, lazily, like she was about to swat a fly.

The warlock blinked. “Wait, what are you—?”

SMACK.

There was a crack like thunder and a puff of arcane glitter. His body spun once midair, eyes wide in comedic disbelief, before collapsing backward onto the stone floor with a wheeze that sounded suspiciously like “owwmyribs”.

Silence followed. The hero party just stared.

Galen lowered his sword. Elaeli’s staff drooped. Varric blinked. “...Did she just—?”

“Yep,” said Orrek. “One-shot slap. Like a bread witch in a tavern brawl.”

Serass casually stepped over the warlock’s unconscious body, dusting off her gloves. She picked up the floating book, which was now spinning nervously like it was trying to escape notice.

“Oh no, you're staying with me,” she muttered, snapping it shut. “I am going to shred every last prank page out of you and shove them into Belladonna’s birdbath.”

She turned toward the hero party, pausing for a long moment. None of them moved.

Finally, Serass gestured to the body with a heel tap. “There. Problem solved. You’re welcome. I assume there’s a bounty or something. Split it how you like.”

Elaeli blinked. “Wait—wait, what just happened? He summoned you. You... you slapped him unconscious?”

“Correct,” Serass said flatly.

“And... you’re just... giving him to us?”

“I have no use for failed spellcasters or dramatic idiots with inferiority complexes.”

The group stared.

“But... why?” Galen finally asked. “Are you not… evil?”

Serass gave him a tired look. “Honey. Evil would involve effort. I was in the middle of a triple shift. This isn’t evil. This is inconvenient.”

Another silence. A berry tart on the tray hissed with magical energy.

Varric cleared his throat. “...So. You’re a demon?”

“Lilim,” Serass corrected. “Manager, enforcer, and unwilling multiversal visitor. I didn’t ask to be summoned here, I don’t want to be here, and someone is going to get hexed when I find out who—”

She paused, glancing at the floating book in her other hand. Her eye twitched again.

“I already know who. Of course I do.”

“Belladonna?” Elaeli guessed, cautiously.

Serass snapped her fingers. “Bingo. That butterfly lunatic and her ‘chaotic whimsy.’ This is just like the time she turned all the sugar in the café into sentient caramel and I had to negotiate with it.”

“You negotiated with... sugar?”

“It was unionizing.”

Galen sheathed his sword. “So what now?”

Serass looked at the sky — or the cracked, magically warped ceiling. “Now? I don't care, au revoir, 'heroes'.”

With a sonor POP, she vanished from that dimension, presumably back to her café.

2 centaurs and a intimate moment - Comission

video comission for one of my followers <3, He and me having an intimate centaur moment <3

Video: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1cGSw-cCWEusHb_5_aTzDmm6ZxBV54-_3/view?usp=sharing

Darlings you make me loose my head

A good wallpaper of sexy young me a bit headless because its halloween ;3 <3

Spooktober - Moriahermione ghost

Continuing with making people i know spooky ;3 https://www.instagram.com/moirahermione/ wanted to be a ghost :3

Latex wolfie

Hey you said you wanted to try new things right? Love these nanites slimes....do i look cool? I love how it changed my feet into paws...I bet youre dying to touch them....

Naga curse

looks like the expedition's femboy touched something he wasnt meant to....

Classroom Changes: Chapter 19

New Skills and Old Grievances

Aya drifted beneath the waves just off the Dark Realm’s shore, her heart thrumming with happy anticipation. She was bound for Coarador to visit Marius, the young lieutenant of the Royal Guard with whom she had grown close since their fateful meeting at the New Year’s Games six months ago. Though duty and study had kept them apart in body, their bond had deepened through the magic mirror they spoke across each day. Now, at last, the promise of seeing him face-to-face again sent a bright thrill through her.

For reasons she still couldn’t fathom, no portal connected directly to Coarador. Swimming the distance was possible, but it would have left her spent long before arrival. Thankfully, Freya had arranged matters well—sending her as an official envoy of Inasmont, under the pretense of studying advanced water-magic. The title smoothed her passage and, more importantly, ensured she was granted the courtesy of proper transportation. Aya was quietly grateful; it spared her both hardship and the indignity of arriving dishevelled and exhausted..

The carriage approached with a fluid grace, and Aya couldn’t help but study its construction. The hull was fashioned from polished coral plating, its canopy sweeping forward in a curve that minimized drag. Twin eels powered the vehicle, their undulations amplified by the runed collars clasped around their necks—she noted the faint glow, evidence of binding enchantments that synchronized their movement. At the stern, stabilizing fins flexed and adjusted, countering the eddies that swirled in their wake.

Yet what fascinated her most was the levitation matrix woven into the undercarriage. The craft hovered neutrally in the water, neither sinking nor rising, as if gravity itself had been balanced on a knife’s edge. A clever design, she thought, layering buoyancy spells with water-magic trim to keep the carriage steady even in rough currents.

The driver opened the carriage door and gestured for her to enter. With a flick of her tail, Aya slipped gracefully inside and settled into one of the webbed hammocks. Her natural buoyancy control made cushions unnecessary, while the hammock’s mesh was engineered to hold passengers steady during sudden maneuvers.

Mounted above her head, a cluster of conch shells glowed faintly with embedded runes. At the driver’s signal, they stirred to life, releasing a soft resonance that filled the cabin. The tones were more than pleasant background music; woven into their harmonics was calming magic meant to steady the heart, ease muscle tension, and dispel the fatigue of long journeys. As a siren, Aya immediately recognized the technique—the same principles of resonance and vibration she used in her own songs, though far less refined. To her ears, the enchantment was crude but effective, a pale imitation of the true artistry of siren song. Even so, the soft vibrations rippled through her body, soothing her like a lullaby shaped from the sea itself. She relaxed into the hammock, closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

_________________________________

Aya awoke as they approached Coarador. She pressed closer to the carriage window, her eyes alight with curiosity. Although not her first visit to the city, the sights still fascinated her. Fields of seaweed stretched in gentle rows, their fronds rippling like banners in the current as merfolk farmers moved gracefully among them. Beyond, neat beds of clams, oysters, and mussels shimmered faintly, the shells catching the filtered light like scattered jewels. Schools of fish swirled in carefully divided shoals—different species kept apart as if by invisible fences. Aya, attuned to the subtleties of water-magic, sensed the wards that guided their movements and smiled at the ingenuity.

Then the homes began to appear. Modest dwellings of living coral rose from the seabed, their walls and roofs coaxed into graceful curves that seemed to grow rather than be built. To Aya’s eyes, they breathed with the rhythm of the sea itself, each one a living fragment of a greater whole. As the carriage glided closer to the city’s heart, the architecture blossomed into grandeur—spires and arches of coral intertwined in elegant patterns, a reef transformed into a kingdom.

At the center of it all rose the royal palace, a wonder steeped in both majesty and mystery. It was formed from a colossal conch shell, its spiralling whorls towering like a crown above the city. Iridescent layers shimmered across its surface, scattering the faintest light into prismatic hues that drifted like living rainbows through the water. Ancient lore whispered that the palace had not been built at all, but summoned—that it had grown in a single night when Hydross himself answered the first king’s plea for a dwelling worthy of his chosen people. Even now, the shell seemed to hum with a quiet resonance, a note too deep for mortal ears, but Aya, as a siren, felt its vibration thrumming faintly in her bones.

The sight stirred her to her core. This was no ordinary stronghold but a sanctum of sea and song, a living testament to a covenant between the realm and the deep. And somewhere within those luminous halls was Marius. The thought made her heart race—more than the palace’s grandeur, it was his presence that set the whole city aglow in her eyes.

The coach drifted to a halt before the palace steps. A royal guard approached, opened the door—and Aya’s breath caught as her eyes met Marius’s. For a heartbeat, the grandeur of the palace and the bustle around them vanished, leaving only him. He wore the maroon jacket of the Royal Guard, cut to curve neatly around his dorsal fin, the deep colour making the pale shimmer of his lower body gleam all the brighter. Light rippled over the fine denticles of his skin, as though the sea itself conspired to make him shine.

Then he smiled. The rows of serrated teeth, which might have been menacing on another, instead thrilled her; the danger in them only heightened the warmth in his gaze. His shark heritage radiated strength and authority, but it was the way he looked at her—as though she alone commanded his full attention—that sent a flutter racing through her chest. After so many months apart, the distance between them felt suddenly unbearable.

His smile lingered only a heartbeat before discipline reclaimed his features; a proper guardsman did not break decorum.

“Welcome to Coarador, my lady,” he said, bowing his head with measured grace as he extended a crooked arm. “May I escort you to your quarters?”

“Thank you, good sir,” Aya replied, her tone light with playful formality. She slipped her hand onto his elbow, the touch sending a quiet thrill through her, and together they glided into the palace’s luminous halls.

When they arrived at Aya’s assigned quarters, Marius cast a quick glance up and down the corridor to be sure they were alone. In the next instant, his rigid formality melted away—he swept her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers in a long, breath-stealing kiss that spoke all the words duty had forced him to silence. When at last they parted, he brushed his forehead briefly against hers, the softness at odds with the power in his frame. Reluctantly, he released her and straightened his uniform once more. With a promise to return the moment his watch ended, he slipped back into the role of guardsman and vanished down the hall.

_________________________________

Aya wasted no time settling in. As much as her heart leapt at the thought of seeing Marius, she reminded herself there was another purpose to her journey. She had already absorbed all the water-magic knowledge Inasmont’s faculty could offer; now she was here to study under Coarador’s true masters. Failure was not an option—Freya’s disappointment would be sharper than any reprimand.

In the corner of her quarters, she shaped a broad bubble of air above the desk with a practiced flick of her hand. From its watertight case, she withdrew the ancient tome she had carried across the sea. Setting it carefully on the desk, she whispered a drying charm to banish the last traces of moisture, then eased open its heavy pages. Symbols glimmered faintly in the lamplight as she bent over the Hydra Aracana, immersing herself in its secrets while her thoughts stretched toward the lesson awaiting her later that day.

_________________________________

A gentle rapping at the door pulled Aya from the depths of her concentration. She blinked, realizing with a jolt that three full hours had slipped past while she studied the tome’s secrets. Her pulse quickened—equal parts excitement and nerves. This was what she had come to Coarador for, the chance to learn from true masters, and yet the thought of facing them stirred a flutter in her chest.

She returned the book to its case, dismissed the protective air bubble, pushed back from the desk and glided to the door. A young mermaid awaited her, offering a polite bow before speaking. “The Maestress is expecting you,” she confirmed. Aya nodded, clutching her anticipation close as she followed, determined not to squander the opportunity she had been given.

_________________________________

The guide led Aya down into the palace’s shadowed recesses.

“Why do wizards always hole themselves up at the tops of towers or the bottoms of dungeons?” Aya muttered as they sank ever deeper, past storerooms stacked with sealed crates and what appeared to be a long-abandoned torture chamber. Their path ended at a translucent blue monolith that sealed the passage entirely. It looked like glacier ice pressed to glassy perfection, yet when Aya laid a curious hand upon it, the surface was neither cold nor brittle—merely humming faintly, as though alive with restrained power.

“Are we lost?” she asked dryly.

“No, my lady,” her guide replied. She tugged a rope that vanished into the wall, and a muffled gong reverberated through the barrier, low and resonant like a whale’s call.

The monolith shimmered, fractures of light spreading across its surface until it dissolved into nothingness. Out of the clearing drifted a scylla, and with her came a palpable shift in the water, as though the currents themselves bent to her presence. Her stern face was carved with lines of authority, the weight of countless frowns deepening her gaze. Short brown hair, streaked with grey, framed eyes that glowed faintly with arcane intensity. Eight sinuous tentacles coiled and uncoiled around her with slow, deliberate grace, radiating the calm menace of a predator at rest. Aya felt her breath hitch; this was no mere instructor—this was a master whose very presence carried the hush of the deep.

“Maestress Acaste,” the guide said softly, eyes fixed on the floor. “This is Aya.”

The scylla’s gaze lifted, and the water seemed to still. “Ah… the off-world siren,” Acaste intoned, her voice carrying a resonance that made the currents tremble. Her eyes narrowed, studying Aya as though divining her worth from the marrow of her bones. “So, child—you believe yourself ready to grasp the hidden currents and master the true depths of water?”

Aya faltered for the briefest moment. To boast would invite scorn, but to hesitate would betray weakness. She steadied her voice, bowing her head. “I am certain that, with your guidance, I will succeed.”

A flicker of something—approval, or perhaps amusement—touched Acaste’s stern features. “We shall see,” she murmured, her words echoing faintly as if the sea itself repeated them. With a graceful turn, her tentacles coiled and unfurled, carrying her effortlessly down the passage.

Aya lingered only a heartbeat before swimming after her. Behind them, the translucent monolith shimmered back into existence with a sound like a great conch horn echoing in the deep, sealing the way shut. The resonance thrummed in Aya’s chest, equal parts warning and promise. She cast one glance behind, then drew a sharp breath. 

“Well… no turning back now.”

_________________________________

The passageway widened into a vast chamber bathed in soft light from clusters of bioluminescent fungi clinging to the walls. It was no mere classroom—Aya glimpsed living quarters woven seamlessly into the space, coral shelves heavy with scrolls and relics, a hammock tucked beneath an arch of stone. The air carried the stillness of a sanctum, a place apart from the world above. Aya wondered if Maestress Acaste ever left this retreat, or if the ocean itself brought everything she required.

At the far wall, Acaste hovered with her back turned, silent and unmoving. Then, with a suddenness that made Aya’s heart skip, she spun to face her, a long spear-gun gripped in her hands. Without a word, she loosed the bolt.

Time seemed to stretch. The weapon’s release echoed like a ritual invocation, and Aya felt a pull deep in her bones. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. With practiced instinct, she swept her hands up, shaping the water into a gleaming wall of hardened force. The bolt struck with a resonant hum, shuddering to a halt and quivering inches from her heart. 

“Good… very good,” Acaste intoned, her voice carrying a weight that felt older than the walls around them. “The foundation is there—you know the first shape of water.”

“Are you insane?” Aya burst out, her voice sharp, “That could have killed me!”

“Pshh.” Acaste dismissed her protest with a flick of her tentacle. “Death is not the lesson here. They would not have dared send me a pupil unready for such a trial.”

Aya’s heartbeat slowed, the furious thrum in her chest easing at last. Beneath her lingering anger at the reckless test was a glimmer of pride—she had not only survived, she had proven herself.

The hours that followed were a blur of discipline. Acaste drilled her relentlessly on every water manipulation she had already mastered: shaping and currents, compression and displacement. Again and again, Aya demonstrated her control, each technique tested, measured, and found sound. Yet the tasks seemed endless, and more than once Aya caught herself wondering if the trials would ever cease.

At last, Acaste’s stern demeanour softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Good. I believe you are competent enough with these parlour tricks to begin learning true magic.”

Her voice grew deeper, steadier, carrying the weight of initiation. “Water has many aspects, child. To master it, you must command every form it takes. You glimpsed one of these when you stood before my threshold—the crystalline barrier.”

“Yes,” Aya said quickly, leaning forward. “It looked like ice, but… it wasn’t.”

“Precisely.” Acaste’s eyes gleamed. “Ice is the crudest and most common of water’s crystals. With magic, however, it may be forged into far greater forms—clearer than glass, harder than steel, and impervious to any heat, even the breath of dragon fire. Such is crystalline water, one of the true foundations of our art.”

“You must also learn to command water in its vaporous form,” Acaste continued, her voice steady, resonant. “To bend clouds to your will, to summon the fury of a thunderstorm with a thought, or halt a blizzard in its tracks. To call up fog to shroud your movements—or to strip it away, leaving an army exposed.”

Her gaze sharpened, and her tone dropped lower. “And if you master these, then—perhaps—you may be ready for the most potent water magic of all: to reach into the very essence of water itself. To unravel its elements, to reform them and release their energy. To wield the fire of the sun from within the sea, and unleash devastation at your command.”

Aya’s breath caught. Her mind reeled. Was Acaste speaking of nuclear fusion? She opened her mouth, intending to ask.

But the Maestress waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Yet I get ahead of myself. Such skills lie far beyond you now and will demand years of discipline before you even begin. That is enough for today. You may leave. Return tomorrow at the same hour.”

_________________________________

When Aya reached her quarters, Marius was waiting outside her door. He had shed the stiffness of his dress uniform for a simple t-shirt, a size too small, stretched tight across his broad chest and clinging to the carved ridges of his abdomen. A short kilt covered his hips. The sight made heat coil low in Aya’s belly; she had been waiting too long for this.

The door had scarcely clicked shut before she surged forward, throwing herself into his arms. Their mouths crashed together, lips and teeth colliding with desperate hunger. Marius returned her embrace, pinning her against the door, her sleek tail coiling around him in instinctive possession. She kissed him feverishly, covering his jaw, his throat, biting lightly at the warm skin while her hands clawed at the hem of his shirt.

He growled low, a deep rumble that thrilled her, and yanked the fabric over his head. Aya broke the kiss just long enough to admire him—his chest, bare and gleaming, muscles rippling beneath her palms—before fastening her lips to his skin, trailing kisses down over the hard planes of his torso. Her tongue teased his skin, each taste igniting her further.

Marius’s hands slid along the small of her back, then lower, gripping firmly at the supple join where her human half melted into the powerful sweep of her tail. He pulled her tight against him, and she gasped at the unmistakable hardness pressing into her—two thick ridges straining beneath his kilt, the twin shafts of his shark-born arousal demanding her attention. The double pressure against her belly made Aya moan into his mouth, her kiss turning needy, wet, desperate.

He answered with a growl deep in his chest, teeth grazing her lower lip as though he might bite, the danger of it only fueling her desire. Aya’s tail coiled more tightly around his waist, locking him against her as though she could drown in the heat of his body. Months of denied longing poured out in that moment; every kiss, every touch, every breath between them throbbed with the unbearable promise of release. Nothing else mattered—only the double hardness straining for her, the ache in her core, and the heady, inevitable rush of what was to come.

Marius’s growl deepened as Aya writhed against him, her lips dragging down his throat, tasting the heat of his skin. With one sharp tug he freed the clasp of his kilt, and it drifted away into the water. Aya gasped as the fabric floated aside, revealing what she knew lay concealed beneath the cloth—two thick, shark-hard shafts, standing proudly, pulsing with need.

She reached for him with trembling hands, fingers wrapping around both at once. The twin lengths throbbed hot against her palms, ridged and firm, and she moaned softly as she stroked them together, feeling his breath hitch above her. Marius seized her wrist, pulling her hand away with a hungry growl, and pressed himself hard against the soft, slick heat of her vulva.

Aya cried out at the contact, her body instinctively arching toward him. For months she had awaited this moment, the sheer size of him, the shock of feeling both thick shafts pressing insistently against her entrance. He kissed her again, fierce and consuming, then eased forward, stretching her open around one of his cocks while the other slid hot and heavy against her swollen folds.

Aya gasped, half in shock, half in ecstasy. Her body shuddered as he pushed deeper, filling her with slow, relentless force until she clutched at his shoulders, nails raking across his skin. His second shaft rubbed and pressed against her, slicking itself with her arousal, the dual sensation making her head swim.

Marius’s thrusts grew harder, more urgent, his dual shafts working her body into a frenzy. One filled her completely, stretching her slick walls with each deep stroke, while the other pressed and rubbed against her clit and folds, the dual friction driving Aya beyond reason. Every movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, the water around them swirling with the force of their passion.

Aya’s cries rose higher, bubbling into moans and gasps as her body arched helplessly against him. She clung to his shoulders, her nails raking deep lines down his back, while her tail wrapped tighter and tighter around his waist, refusing to let him go. “Marius…” she moaned into his mouth, her voice breaking as her climax built, a tidal wave rising unstoppable within her.

He growled in response, feral and hungry, his teeth grazing the soft skin of her throat as he pounded into her, relentless as the sea. The second shaft slicked itself with her arousal, grinding and sliding against her swollen nub until the dual sensations overwhelmed her. Aya’s vision went white as her body convulsed, her climax crashing over her in violent, glorious waves. She cried out, the sound muffled against his mouth, her whole form trembling as pleasure tore through her.

Her orgasm seemed to trigger his own. With a final deep thrust he shuddered, both cocks pulsing thickly against her. She felt the hot flood as he released inside her, his seed spilling in heavy bursts that filled her until it overflowed, mixing with the slick warmth already coating her folds. The second shaft jerked against her, spurting across her belly and tail as his growls deepened into ragged groans.

They clung to each other through it, Aya gasping, her body still quaking with aftershocks, while Marius pressed his forehead to hers, panting. His hips gave a few last shuddering thrusts before he sagged against her, the water around them clouded faintly by their mingled release.

_________________________________

Aya stroked his cheek, still trembling, her lips brushing his. “I’ve missed you so much…” she whispered.

His arms tightened around her, his forehead resting against hers. “I counted the days, Aya. Every heartbeat, every patrol—I carried you with me. Having you here now…” His voice broke, low and raw. “…it feels like I can breathe again.”

She kissed him then, not with desperation but with slow, lingering sweetness, savouring the taste of him, the simple joy of his mouth against hers. When they parted, she nestled against his chest once more, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Wrapped in his arms, Aya felt safe, warm, and utterly his. The ache of their separation was soothed at last, replaced with a quiet certainty: whatever trials awaited her in Coarador, she would face them with renewed strength, because Marius was here—and she was no longer alone.

Aya reflected on that fateful day, a little over a year past, when she had believed she was walking into oblivion but had instead been cast into Inasmont.

“Did I ever tell you,” she said softly, “that I was given a choice? My soul devoured… or exile to this world. And for a few moments…” she gave a wry, trembling smile, “…I actually considered the first.”

Her expression warmed as she leaned closer to him. “Now, I cannot imagine why I was ever afraid. I mastered my voice, I learned magic, and—most of all—I found you. To think… I owe it all to Serass.”

Marius stiffened. His expression darkened in an instant, fury flashing across his features like lightning in a storm. “We do not speak that name in Coarador,” he growled, his voice low and edged with menace.

Aya’s breath caught. She pulled back, eyes wide. “What do you mean?” For a moment he seemed a stranger—no longer her lover, but a beast of the deep, dangerous and unforgiving.

Seeing her fear, he softened, though the anger still glimmered beneath the surface. “Forgive me. I forget you were not raised here. Our ways are ancient, and sacred. To speak the name of the Dark Lord is forbidden.”

“But why?” Aya asked, bewildered. “I know her father was a monster—but I thought she brought peace when she overthrew him.”

“That is only half the tale,” Marius said gravely. His voice seemed to grow deeper, resonant, as though he were reciting words carried through generations. “Yes, she brought an end to his tyranny—but before that she drowned the world in blood. She committed countless atrocities at her father’s command. Before her ascension, she bore another name: the Destroyer. Few who beheld her wrath lived to speak of it.”

His eyes grew distant, as if gazing into the weight of centuries. “She claimed she had been reformed and lulled our young princess into inviting her into the palace. Once inside she brutally slew our king in front of his daughter. Princess Marina, suddenly thrust into the role of queen, decreed that the lilim was exiled from Coarador, banished beyond eternity, and that none should ever speak her name. She further decreed that no portal would ever bind our city to the Dark Realm. And for fifty millennia, we have held to her edict—as unbroken and unyielding as the sea itself.”

“But I see demons around here all the time,” Aya said, frowning. “You trade with her realm, don’t you?”

“That is true,” Marius conceded, his tone solemn yet unwavering. “We bear no malice toward the denizens of that realm. For the sake of all lands, we must work with the Dark Lord, and our king himself sits upon her council. In truth, the banishment is but a symbol—we lack the strength to bar her should she choose otherwise. And yet…” He inclined his head, as though bowing before an unseen presence. “…for fifty millennia she has honoured the decree. Not once has she set foot upon Coarador.”

Aya didn’t know what to make of Marius’s tale. She had no illusions about Serass—she knew the lilim would not hesitate to kill when she deemed it necessary. After all, Serass had shown no hesitation in threatening to banish her, or even destroy her, when Aya’s siren powers had spiralled out of control. And yet… Aya could not believe Serass killed without cause. In her own case, Serass had relented, finding a merciful solution where none seemed possible.

The ancient legend Marius spoke of was likely true in its broad strokes, but Aya felt sure there was more to the story—shades of truth lost in the telling, motives twisted by time and memory. She resolved to ask Freya about it when she returned to Inasmont.

For now, though, she let the questions drift from her mind. Curled in Marius’s strong embrace, she surrendered to the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart. The weight of history could wait; in this moment, all that mattered was the comfort of his arms. Together, they drifted into sleep, entwined like two souls bound by the currents of the sea.

_________________________________

Big bad wolf mommy takes care of you

Let me take care of you my lil cute human darling <3, are you enjoying it <3?

Big chiken

So who are you calling...big chiken? #chocobo #taur #monstergirl #femdom

Public Health Warning: Hike With Others

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

URGENT SAFETY ALERT: Realdez Trail Closed to Solo Hikers Following Reports of Unexplained Injuries and Specific Health Risks

REDWOOD COUNTY, Sept. 22, 2008 – The Redwood County Sheriff’s Office (RCSO) and the Aspen Wildlife Refuge Authority (AWRA) are issuing an urgent, heightened safety advisory for all individuals planning to use or currently traversing the Realdez Trail system. This advisory follows recent reports of unexplained injuries occurring among hikers and concerning specific health issues reported by victims.

Effective immediately, the Realdez Trail is strictly restricted to group travel only. Solo hiking is prohibited until the cause of these incidents is identified.

General Safety Measures and Unexplained Injuries

RCSO is investigating several confirmed incidents involving hikers who have sustained injuries in circumstances that remain unexplained. All trail users must exercise extreme caution and maintain heightened situational awareness.

All Hikers Must Adhere To The Following:

• Group Travel Mandate: Hikers must travel in groups of two or more at all times.

• Vigilance: Be aware of your surroundings and report any unusual sights, sounds, or suspicious activity immediately to the RCSO.

• Documentation: Log entry to the trail at the trailhead and share your itinerary with others before entering the trail system. Also make sure communication devices are charged and working properly.

CRITICAL Medical Warning for Male Hikers

The RCSO has identified a specific and critical pattern of symptoms reported by recent victims who are male.

Male hikers are strongly warned to monitor for the following constellation of symptoms and seek immediate emergency medical attention if they occur:

• Sudden painful prick or sting

• Loss of consciousness or memory lapse.

• Accompanying acute pain in the hips and groin area.

• Erection lasting longer than 4 hours.

Any male traveler experiencing this combination of symptoms after hiking the Realdez trail should be treated as a medical emergency and seek medical evaluation at the nearest medical facility.

Ongoing Concern for Female Hikers

Due to ongoing, open investigations referenced in previous advisories concerning disappearances reported among female solo hikers in the Realdez area, female travelers remain strictly instructed to adhere to the group travel mandate and must not separate from their group at any time.

"These incidents present an unusual and serious threat to our community," said Sheriff Thomlson of the Redwood County Sheriff’s Office. "The risks are real, and the public must treat this advisory with the utmost seriousness. The restriction on solo hiking is non-negotiable for the immediate future. We are working around the clock to understand the source of these incidents."

The Sheriff’s Office urges anyone with information regarding these incidents, or anyone who has witnessed unusual activity on the trail, to contact the Redwood County Tip Line immediately at (398) 567-9274 or info@RCSO.gov.

Black fur, white latex

Life is all about contrasts <3
kinky contrasts

Swimsuits monstergirl cafe special 3

its Kate's turn today :3

41 aniversary picture zoom out

Ops, yes you were rights darlings, i am a centaur on the picture if you zoom out ;3

Full access

You have been such a wonderfull boyfriend lately....so tonight i'm gonna give you full acess...arent you happy dear?

Becoming the subject of study

Miss...doctor i think you went too far in your stegosaurus dna studies....

Werewolf and horny

Just because i am a werewolf now...doesnt mean you have to forgive your duties...dear husband...now do me! or ill bite <3

Werewolf tf

To start the spookstober....me tfing into a werewolf <3 happy spookstober darlings <3

Minotauress wife and husband remade

remake of one of my old pics <3

Foxtaur hunter - Comission

A small comission of a foxtaur hunting in the woods :3

Rise of Nova

My friend nova gets her instagram deleted every time but she comes back stronger than ever, like a phoenix <3

Octolady

:3 playing with the idea of a octopus woman thats not a scylla ;3

Male harpies know how to have fun after a party

:3

Hey male harpies do exist!

But they make the cutest femboys ;3 <3

Suck me Softly - chapter 7

The storm outside roared, rattling the windows of the clinic, but within its walls the three friends huddled, seeking refuge from the tempest. Rainwater plastered their hair to their faces and soaked their clothes.

"I-it's s-so c-cold!" Cassie shivered, her teeth chattering, leaving a small puddle where she stood.

"Here," Stacy said, tossing her a fluffy towel. "Let's get out of these wet things. Monica, are there any bathrobes in the closet?"

"Umm, yeah," Monica replied, a strange hesitancy in her voice. "There are three in here." She tossed a robe at Stacy, avoiding eye contact.

Cassie, vigorously drying her legs, suddenly stopped and wrapped the towel around her waist leaving her wet shirt on. A furrow appeared on her brow. "Hey, Monica… can I check your back? It looked… odd when you were sleeping."

Monica stiffened. "You were in my room while I was sleeping?" A flush crept up her neck, though whether from embarrassment or something else, it was hard to tell. The changes happening within her were bringing with them a growing unease, a sense of desire, a kind of dirty little… well not that little, secret.

"I was just checking on you," Cassie insisted, her voice laced with concern. "Your back looked…i don't know, scabbed? Anyway, If it's just a bad scrape, you might need a bandaid before you put on dry clothes."

Monica hesitated again. How much did Cassie see? She wondered, a flicker of panic rising within her. Did Cassie see…everything? She clutched the towel tighter around her waist, to conceal the burgeoning change to her privates. 

Yet as she looked over at her friends she noticed that the shirts that Cassie and Stacy wore were soaked and looked painted on. Cassie's nipples were tenting the shirt fabric from the cold, and Stacy's breasts were hanging free as she struggled to free herself from her shirt. Monica felt a slight flush coming on. 

Monica's eyes darted back up from Cassie's chest to her eyes and seeing her concern, she knew there was no avoiding her. Cassie wouldn't let it go until she was satisfied that everything was okay. With a grimace, partly from a stiffness in her back and arms, and a stiffness in her panties, but also partly from the creeping dread. Monica reached for the hem of her soaked shirt. The wet material clung stubbornly to her skin, making a soft, wet thwack as she pulled it off, followed by the gentle slap of her breasts.

"Oh wow, what did you do to yourself?," Cassie gasped, her voice softer now, filled with gentle concern. "Does it hurt?"

"What hurt?" Monica asked in genuine ignorance. She felt the weight of their gazes, the air thick with unspoken questions. “What??”

With gentle fingers, Cassie touched the rough, grey protrusions that covered the center of her back, lining Monica’s spine. "Gosh, it's like...it's like these aren't scabs but rocks." Her touch was hesitant, as if she were unsure what she was feeling.

Monica winced slightly, but not from pain but how dull the sensation was on her back. She only registered the pressure of cassie's finger and just slightly. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice a soft whisper. "Everything's been a little…weird lately."

Stacy, who had been quietly toweling her hair, stared at Monica's back, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her own words were barely audible, a mumbled confession. "That's kinda like my…what the fuck is happening to us?" She stepped into the bathroom to peel off the sopping wet shorts, her panties clinging to them like a second skin. Slightly embarrassed and shy, she checked that Cassie or Monica wasn't looking and gently touched her thigh. The skin was rough and pebbled. Stacy pulled her robe tight around her waist.

The storm outside seemed to be reaching a crescendo, the wind howling. The lights in the room flickered a bit.

“Geez I'm glad we're off the boat!” She could hear Monica say from the other room.

A sudden click at the door caught the girls off guard, and they turned to see the receptionist standing in the doorway, two envelopes in her hand. "Girls, each of you has your own room," she said, her voice calm and warm.

Stacy quickly shouted "dibs on this one," from the bathroom her voice laced with a sense of possessiveness. 

“Oooookay Stacy… don't want to share a bed?” Cassie grinned. “Okay where are our rooms then…um Jenny?” She asked the receptionist, eyeing her name tag.

“Just across the hall over here” Jenny replied 

Monica followed Cassie out of the room, her mind reeling with questions, feelings and fears. The receptionist Jenny led them across the hall into their own rooms. The doors were a bit separated but on the same side of the wall.

Walking in Monica saw her room was nice, with a king sized bed in the center of the side room. A door in the far corner of the living room caught her attention, and she walked over to it, her heart skipped when she saw it had a deadbolt lock above the handle.

She opened the door, revealing another door behind it. "I knew it! Conjoined rooms" she thought, a sense of curiosity building in her chest. She heard a click, and the other door opened, revealing Cassie's room.

“Well hello neighbor!” Cassie giggled, her hair in a wrapped towel.

"Connected rooms, Cassie!" Monica exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

In the other hallway, Katie walked down the corridor toward Heather's room, she’d carefully put her hair in a sheeps-head wrap concealing her ears. A flash of lightning illuminated the corridor, followed by a deep rumble of thunder. The storm had not yet begun to ease off.

She knocked gently on the door.

“Just a sec!” Heather called from within, her voice slightly muffled. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing her in a similar state—a bathrobe tied snugly at her waist, her hair loosely tousled.

“Oh, Katie, come in!” Heather smiled, her eyes wide with relief at the company.

Another flash of lightning startled them both, casting a bright glow in the dim hallway.

“Gosh, it looks like we just made it in  before it got REALLY bad out there,” Katie said, her voice a mix of humor and trepidation.

“Yeah, still, I hope it doesn’t get much worse and damage the ship.” Heather replied, though her voice was steady, she couldn't hide the edge of concern lurking beneath. “But honestly, it’s better to be here than out on the open water.”

Katie couldn’t agree more. “Yeah, seriously! So, what's the plan now?”

“Well, I guess we’re here for tomorrow at the very least. Let Whit see to Monica. But I mean, honestly? If the guests want to, we could just stay here for the rest of the charter and take them back on Sunday,” Heather mused, a glint of mischief in her eye.

“Three days stuck here? Ughh wouldn’t that JUST be terrible!” Katie grinned, adopting an exaggeratedly disappointed tone.

Heather giggled. “Now, now, you’re still under contract for this charter. Can’t go running off with your boy toy,” she teased, nudging Katie playfully.

“Did you see in my room?” Katie said absentmindedly, scratching her left side. The gesture was subtle, but Heather noticed the faint flicker of discomfort in her expression. Katie didn’t seem to notice, or at least, she didn’t acknowledge it.

“No? Why?” Heather asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Somebody had some flowers waiting for me,” Katie said, her tone casual but her cheeks betraying a faint blush.

“Aww, look at you two!” Heather teased, nudging her playfully.

“Ooh, I know, it’s so cute,” Katie replied, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile.

A light scent of fish wafted through the air, subtle but unmistakable. It wasn’t overpowering—just a faint hint of something oceanic mixed with the hotel linens scent. Heather sniffed the air, her brow furrowing slightly the scent wasn't in the room before Katie came in. 

“Ooo, I see,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement. “Then that explains the makeup! Practicing for tomorrow when he’s here in the morning?”

Katie froze for a moment, her fingers pausing mid-scratch on her side. She had nearly forgotten about the makeup, And her HANDS!—though now that Heather mentioned it, she made sure to check her ears were still covered and decided not to argue. “Yep! Just making sure I look definitely seductive,” she quipped

“And since he’ll be here in the morning I’m going to bed!” Katie smirked before leaving the room, a smile lingering on her lips.

“Well, goodnight!” Heather called after her, locking the door and stretching her arms out as she headed to her bedroom. “I need some rest,” she added, plopping down onto the edge of her bed. 

She wrapped back into her robe. Pushing her concerns away. “ We're all safe and sound, it's just a little fatigue, nothing too bad for them. And PLEASE no damage to the ship!”

She flicked off the lights, wrapped herself up in the blanket. Ready for sleep. Listening as the storm settled slightly.

Katie smiled entering her room and seeing the flowers from Whit again. She took a deep breath in to enjoy their aroma. But her nostrils were met with a slick, fishy smell. "Oh hell!, is that me? Guess I need a shower." She slumped and stomped, "But I just got dry!" she whined.

Stepping into the bathroom there was another surprise. Pink silk button pajamas were folded neatly on the counter. Katie stopped and grinned at Whit’s second little gift. “Pink silk, huh?” She thought. 

They looked expensive, impossibly soft. For a moment, the fishy smell and the odd feeling on her skin were forgotten, replaced by feeling like a silly girl with a crush. She carefully picked them up, seeing the webbing between her fingers remained longer than normal., the fabric cool and slinky against her fingers, before placing them back on the counter. “Maybe a bath would be better?” she asked herself, flexing her fingers.

Turning, she reached for the tap, turning on the water to get warm. While she waited, she glanced in the mirror. Still had that blue 'makeup' on. Though now there were strange, vivid yellow highlights on her eyelids. It didn't look like eyeshadow anymore; they had a faint, almost iridescent sheen she still couldn't quite wipe away. Were they... part of her skin now?

Pulling her hair back to check her ears again Katie leaned closer to the foggy mirror. Yes. Still definitely not normal ears. They had taken on a very aquatic and very fin-like shape, laying flat against her head but with several distinct,long rigid ribs visible beneath the skin. "OMG, is it getting worse?" she gasped, running a trembling finger over the strange structures. 

Looking away from her reflection she saw on the marble counter a paper-wrapped bath bomb, complimentary from the resort, waited like a small indulgence. She unwrapped it, rolling the sphere in her palm. Its surface smelled faintly of sea salt, citrus, and something floral but unfamiliar—a perfume like moonlit gardens. Strange, but inviting.

Katie disrobed slowly, skin prickling in the humid air. She caught a glimpse of the rest of her body in the wide bathroom mirror: eyes shadowed, lips pale, hair frizzed from salt spray and storm. And her legs looked very bruised. She looked away quickly, as though refusing to give the thought a place to settle.

The bath bomb fizzed the instant she dropped it into the tub, bleeding spirals of teal and silver into the water. The scent swelled in the steamy air, thick and intoxicating like deep ocean currents pressing against her lungs. She slid into the warmth, letting the fizz crackle around her thighs, the colors swirling and obscuring her body until the bath resembled a shifting lagoon.

Her shoulders sank. Muscles she hadn’t realized were clenched seemed to unravel as if the water tugged them loose. Katie gave a soft sigh and closed her eyes. The tub cradled her, the swirling shimmer hugging her skin in ways that felt oddly intimate, like a lover’s fingertips brushing along her ribs.

For long moments, she just breathed, releasing each ounce of tension. The sound of her breath and the fizzing bath were the only rhythms. She thought of the ship’s deck, the crashing disorder of waves, the way rain had needled her face, how the ocean had seemed alive, hungry, beckoning. How nearly they didn't make it. But the more she thought of all that, the mystery of what was happening to all of them still lingered.

The low itch beneath her breasts returned again, deeper now, as though something beneath the skin stretched forward, pressing for release. She shifted, water lapping at her collarbones, the scented fizz gliding over her chest. Her palms hovered, then pressed gently against the spot, shocked at how sensitive it felt, how the touch sent a ripple of heat down her stomach. She frowned. That wasn’t normal.

Her breasts, too—they felt different. Full, heavy, straining against her own touch as though they had been gathering weight for days. Katie let out a low, unbidden sound, half sigh and half protest. Maybe it was hormones, nerves, exhaustion. She told herself anything to avoid the truth whispering in the back of her mind.

The fizzing bath obscured her view, the shimmering teal veil hiding her skin beneath. Running her fingertips down her torso, the water turned patches of her skin hypersensitive, as if every nerve ending had been amplified. That’s when she brushed a horizontal ridge across the tender space beneath her breasts. It wasn't a scratch, nor scar, but a shallow seam. Raised and deliberate, like her body had decided to write its own lines into her flesh.

Her breath caught. She pressed more firmly, and the ridges flexed faintly beneath her fingertips. A soft gasp slipped from her lips, more startled than afraid. “What now?”

The steam thickened, curling around her face as she drew her knees up into the water. The movement revealed something else—something brushing faintly through the water along her hips. She reached downward, smoothing her hand over her side where the sensation lingered. Beneath the silky veil of water, her skin was textured. Not wrong exactly, but… folded.

Pleats. Thin, pliable folds of flesh that flexed against her palm. They gave under her fingers, supple yet resilient, rippling when she shifted her legs. The resemblance was unmistakable: fins. The memory of childhood aquariums flickered in her head, watching tropical fish flick their bodies with effortless grace, their delicate fins fluttering like silk. 

Her pulse quickened. She clenched her thighs together, the movement causing the water to tug strangely across those new pleats, the sensation intimate, invasive, yet sinfully delicate. Katie exhaled shakily, pressing her head back against the porcelain lip of the tub, eyes squeezed shut.

“God,” she murmured, voice trembling but hushed, “what is happening to me?”

The bath bomb had nearly melted away, its cloudy veil fading. The shifting water still disguised some detail, but she could no longer ignore her body. Her toes curled against the porcelain bottom of the tub. Something felt wrong there too. With sudden determination, she sat up straighter, dragging her feet upward through the lapping water until she could see them.

Her stomach tightened. The webbing between her toes stretched longer than it should, fine membranes gleaming faintly blue green in the warm light. She flexed, and the skin pulled taut, quivering like sails waiting for wind. It looked… functional. Made for water. Not human.

Katie sucked in a sharp breath, panic rising at last. She pulled the stopper, the water spiraling downward. The draining pool revealed more than she wanted. Her calves, still glistening, caught the light in unusual textures. What she had dismissed earlier as bruises weren’t fading. The damp air clarified them: dark, marine-blue patterns, geometric like overlapping scales lying dormant beneath her skin. She pressed one trembling hand against them; they were hard, protective, foreign. Her heart punched against her ribs.

“What?!, no, no—” Her voice cracked.

She stood too quickly, nearly slipping on the slick tile, and grabbed for the towel. The bathroom mirror caught her then, betraying more than she wanted to see. Blue patterns climbing, her eyes fever-bright beneath strange, yellowed accents at her lids, her damp hair framing her like she was both herself and someone else entirely.

Katie’s breath came fast, shallow, the steam no longer comforting but stifling. She pressed the towel to her chest as though she could cover the seams?, the folds?, her fins! but the truth pressed outward, undeniable.

“Whit,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please come soon.”

Sunscreen

I love when my friends get it directly from the source :3 <3

Blackrose alraune

Some people wanted to see me as a alraune....how do i look ;3 have you seen a goth alraune? hehe

Swimsuits monstergirl cafe special 2

Oh, volume 2 is a Leira special! :3

Misc stuff

A small compilation of stuff that gets accumulated on my stack, basically small comissions or things i do because...well i want or someone asked as a favor #dullahan #dragongirl #scylla