doctopus: Drawn by <user name=creepyfries> (Default)
Maya Ayling, human-octopus Hybrid [OC] ([personal profile] doctopus) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2013-12-12 01:36 am


Art by Luiza Kwiatkowska


Tentacle monsters get a lot of bad press. Day after day you hear the tales of an innocent highschool girl going for an innocently naked late-night ocean dip, or getting roped into some deep dark evil scientist/alien/alien scientist’s plan and getting way more than she bargained for. Somehow, the tentacle monsters are always the bad guys. But what about our boundary-respecting tentacled friends who walk (swim?) girls (or boys) home from night-outs without expecting anything in “return”? Who only put those tentacles where you want them, when you want them? They’re deserving of love despite the stereotypes, and who doesn’t enjoy a bit of consentacle fun, I mean really.

(This meme is not the intended venue for hentai-esque tentacle rape, but nobody is going to police you as long as you ASK before you sic any non-consenticals on anyone; for the sake of everyone here only for consensual tentacle-loving, warn for abusive content in the subject line.)

Since the ratio of tentacled characters to non-tentacled characters here in DWRP is something like, say…one to onesquillion, here are some prompts/suggestions on how to tentacle-up your tentacle-less character should you choose.

But your character has always been a tentacle-abomination! Maybe they’re struggling to keep it a secret Octodad: Dadliest Catch style, fighting to keep their squirmy appendages under wraps and act the perfectly-typical-human-being role until how. Maybe everyone in their canon is like this! He gets tentacles, she gets tentacles, everybody gets tentacles! Or maybe they’ve always had these additional limbs and are confused as to why their friends are only just noticing. (Like wow buddy did you finally get contact lenses or something?)

Caught in a laboratory explosion? Stabbed with a secret formula developed by the Big Bad of your world to render your crime-fighting abilities inept (or at least much more haphazard than before)? Did you disobey your high school teacher and eat/drink in the science classroom after they told you for the umpteenth time not to?

Twinkle twinkle little star, shit that wish is quite bizarre. Maybe you were absently thinking about how all the fun you could have if you had tentacles instead of/in addition to your normal arms or legs, and POP, the universe decided to grant your wish! Why the universe isn’t solving poverty or eliminating suffering is beyond us, but we like to think it’s as feckless a kinkster as the rest of us.

You went swimming and something bit you! Or maybe you ran into Alex Mercer on a really bad day (isn’t every day a bad day for Alex Mercer?) With no cure to hand, you’re helpless as your body starts to rearrange itself to account for the new changes to your DNA.

Like the real thing, only more...mecha-y. With these super-duper sci-fi-esque robotic limbs grafted onto your body, you have all the dexterity of normal tentacles, with hopefully less pain when you inadvertently slam a tentacle in a door for the first time (well, you can hope, anyway). Only, the configuration may or may not be a little skewey, so even the most prudish and sex-negative of characters may find the tentacles acting out their owner's repressed sexual urges without their say on the matter (luckily they also dectect the desires of the people around them, so no accidental nonconsentacles unless that's what both RPers signed up for).

Reach out and pick your own scenario! Not like you don’t have enough arms now, amirite

Or, you know, you could just go straight to tentafucking if you wanted, but if you need help deciding on a jump-off point or just want to play something more gen with your octobrethren, here's a handy list of ideas.

You think tentacle monsters don’t live day-to-day lives with all the cooking and the cleaning and the grocery shopping that "normal" people do? Sometimes the addition of tentacles might make these tasks a little more...interesting, but when was the last time you wished you had an easier way of opening that jar of pasta sauce that's been stuck closed since 2011?

Tentacle monsters give the best hugs when you're sad or mad, feeling lonesome or just plain affectionate. ...Or maybe they're the one in need of a hug and someone to cling their suction cup-covered arms to, if their unruly limbs are new to them and they're finding the new changes to their body too disorienting to handle alone.

Even experienced tentacle monsters may sometimes get their limbs all a-twist trying something new, and for new members of the tentacle club, adjusting might be something akin to a nightmare. They may need a helping hand to cling to while they get used to moving on eight pairs of limbs.

So maybe you're past the stage of figuring out things like how to walk on all-eights or open jars or stick to walls, and you're ready to develop a different kind of expertise with your tentacles, preferably with the help of a willingly amorous assistant who's patient enough not to mind if you accidentally slap them in the face with a damp tentacle instead of groping their chest like you meant to. Even if you're a veteran at this stuff already, continued practice and developing new techniques is always a good thing.

You may not have the flyest moves on the dance floor, but with a body like that, baby, there's no way you're going home empty tentacled. The club can't handle you right now, and with those boogying tentacles you're sure to attract some interest.

Sun, sea, sand and tentacles are all good fun...unless of course you've been shipwrecked somewhere, in which case maybe not. Still, even in that sort of situation maybe there's a way for you to repay the friendly tentacled octomaid who saved your ass by swimming you to the shore? Or the sea is already your natural habitat. Darling it's better down where it's— ahem...

Oh jeez oh wow, this sure is one posh get-together. Fitting all these wiggly limbs into formal-wear is likely to be a little bit of a struggle, but eat food, dance and be merry anyway. Just try not to bruise your social reputation by tripping over your hosts with any wayward tentacle legs.

Do you promise to love your tentacled bride or groom for richer or for poorer, in sickness or in health, and in all their wayward tentacley glory? Then you may now kiss your new physiologically atypical life-partner. Feel free to skip straight on ahead to the wedding-night or honey moon since everyone knows that's the best part of getting married.

Just don't spend your breaks hanging out inside the water cooler, and a productive worker such as yourself is bound to have as humdrum a work-life as all your basic human coworkers. Tentacles may actually provide you an extra level of job security when your boss sees how efficient your typing or secretary skills are with all those extra arms, and you may find yourself with many coworker-sent invites for "private meetings" in the stationery closet.

It's not like there's any limits to what tentapeople can do, so go ahead and pick your own scenario, fools!
inconclusives: (and despair)

[2] ((experiment)) muse is painfully new; i hope this is okay...

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-12 08:30 am (UTC)(link)
[It has taken over a year for Carlos to adjust to life in Night Vale. One year later, and he is just now starting to get the hang of living here. Like letting weird things roll off his back, often literally. Like accepting that some times there is no answer to a question. Like dating an Eldritch abomination.]

[Okay, that wasn't fair. Cecil only has tentacles sometimes. The rest of him, by Night Vale standards, anyway, is pretty normal. And Carlos can deal with it, is dealing with it, because he loves Cecil, even his weirdness. Kind of because of his weirdness. Anyway, Carlos is dealing with the whole tentacle thing, when it happens. Adjusting to them. Liking them, even. ...They're kind of endearing, he thinks now. Which is really strange, because if you'd asked Carlos a year ago if he'd ever consider tentacles endearing, the answer would have been obvious.]

[Still, that doesn't mean Carlos ever wanted tentacles for himself. Not by a long shot, thanks. So it still comes as a surprise - more like a screaming horror - when one of his team manages to summon an actual Eldritch abomination into their lab while doing algebra equations on the lab's whiteboard. And it also likes Carlos, and decides to embed itself happily in his spine.]

[Uh. What?]


[Is he like goddamned catnip for tentacle monsters, or something?!]

[You can guess who Carlos calls.]

Cecil. I need to talk to you, it's--- It's kind of urgent.
cantnotreport: (I am a capsule of energy)

Oh no worries, Cecil is new as well <3

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-12 01:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[To be fair, someone -- some responsible and dutiful citizen -- should have warned Carlos' team against the dangers of using a whiteboard. It has been tried and tested, quite scientifically thank you very much, and concluded that the use of whiteboards is accompanied by a stupefyingly high chance of summoning terror beasts from the depths of space. Blackboards are simply safer, and it's surprising they've gone this long without an incident; statistically, it's defying the odds.

But these things do happen, and given the urgency of Carlos' tone, Cecil gathers something alarming must have happened. The show is nearly over, just mid-weather when Carlos calls, and Cecil promises to come to him as soon as he's wrapped up here.

Which he does, with an air of dire concern, as is ever-present whenever his perfect Carlos is in distress. Granted, distress seemed to be a fairly common thing for Carlos, early on; lately, he's been adjusting rather well to Night Vale's particular brand of strangeness, and he's required this comfort from Cecil less and less often. Pity; Cecil enjoys feeling needed, useful.

Though whatever he was expecting upon his arrival at Carlos' lab, it certainly wasn't this.

Oh. Ah... [Cecil can't help a little smile, and he crosses his arms, covers his mouth with one hand in attempt to stifle his amusement.] Hmm. You've done something new. Don't tell me...
inconclusives: (He has a square jaw)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-12 04:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[He had to finish the show first. Okay. Carlos understands. No problem. He's only got an alien creature digging its way into his central nervous system. No, sure, it can wait.]

[But then Cecil finally shows up, now that the lab is half-destroyed and the team's gone screaming, and he is seriously going to say that? Is he laughing about it?!]

Cecil. [Carlos breathes, his fingers twitching on the beaker and pipette he's holding, because it's not like science can't fix this, right? Science can fix this, right?! He sets them down before they break.] I get it. It's funny.

[One of the tentacles picks up the beaker and drops it on the floor, where it shatters. It just-- Picks it up and drops it! What the hell?! Carlos is looking a little horrified, between the tentacle and his amused boyfriend.] It's really not funny. Please help.
cantnotreport: (Dry and dusty)

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-12 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[Oh dear, not the beakers and flasks. Carlos does get rather sensitive about those. Clearly, that's the problem, and not the tentacles flailing around, destroying things and making a general nuisance of themselves. Really, one would except other-worldly Eldritch beasts to act with a bit more distinction while attempting to meld with a new host.]

I'm sorry. Really, I don't mean to laugh. [Cecil fixes himself with a Rather Serious Expression, calmly steps around the lab table to Carlos, resting a hand on his back -- and, consequently, the creature attempting to burrow into it.]

How can I help?

[It's not like he has the science experience to fix this, and it's not as if he's had much exposure to parasitic aliens either. After all, his own tentacles have been with him since birth. Haven't they? that he considers it, he can't really recall.

But that's not important at the moment. But like calls to like, and for what it's worth, perhaps the way he's stroking Carlos' back will help calm the things.
inconclusives: (Default)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-12 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[Carlos isn't sure what to do, and that terrifies him. He took a sample, and the pain was unbearable. He tested it, and the results were inconclusive. This is a time sensitive issue because Carlos's brain is at stake, and he has no idea what to do.]

[But then Cecil is touching his back and... it helps. The tentacles stop their erratic flailing for the first time since the monster pulled itself out of the inter-dimensional portal it came from. They calm. And as freaked out and horrified as Carlos is, when Cecil touches his back, he calms, too.]

That. Keep doing that. That's helping. [He tells Cecil, because it is. Weirdly. Why is it helping? Where did the fear go? Is it because he trusts Cecil, because he loves him? Or is it that the parasitic alien has wormed its way up his spine, into the limbic system of his brain?]

[That should be terrifying, but it's not. He doesn't feel terrified at all. He feels... good!]

[That's probably not a good sign. One of the tentacles is curling lovingly around Cecil's wrist now, and the tattoos there. Carlos stares at it, kind of glad he can't see the horrifying, toothy, eyeless mass that makes up the rest of the thing.]

It likes you. [He observes, and really, he isn't all that surprised.]
cantnotreport: (Didn't we?)

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-13 01:04 am (UTC)(link)
Mm hmm.

[Cecil's smile is fond and distant, and he sighs happily. The undulating tattoos on his forearm rise, like a snake moving beneath the flesh, and slowly begin to peel away with a crisp shhhhhk like tearing leather. Three of his own tentacles pull at the sleeve of his shirt as they move to explore Carlos' new guest, and Cecil's hand drifts idly back and forth over Carlos' -- or the parasitic creature's -- back.]

You've got to be gentle with it. They don't just barge in from the furthest reaches of space to destroy everything.

[At least, by Cecil's estimation, they don't. If he had been summoned to a strange world, he wouldn't start destroying everything straight off. It simply isn't a done thing. Matters of diplomacy have to be considered, and now that Cecil's tentacles are wrapping and spiral's affectionately around the creature's, it seems to have calmed considerably.]

Oh Carlos, what if it just wants to be loved and comforted?
inconclusives: (and I fell in love instantly.)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-13 02:40 am (UTC)(link)
It sure wasn't acting like that before. [When it was destroying the lab, throwing around his teammates, and purposefully putting improperly labeled vials out of order. It wasn't acting like it wanted to be loved then. But now? Now that Cecil is touching it, it's...]

[Oh god. It's in love with Cecil. Not that Carlos can blame it, but-- Oh god.]

You have to get it out of me. [Carlos pleads. Cecil is spoken for, okay. And having a deep space cephalopod hitting on his boyfriend while it's forcibly embedding itself into his back is a little insulting.]

[Who does this thing think it is? And what is it expecting? I mean, it doesn't even have hair. But it definitely has fallen for Cecil. Carlos can feel it. He can actually feel the tentacles from Cecil's arms sliding against the ones in his back, curling around them, squeezing gently. From a purely sensory perspective, it feels amazing. This is probably the closest he'll ever come to understanding what those things feel when Cecil touches him with them. It's kind of mind-blowing.]

[But from a rational perspective, it means something else. Carlos pulls out of Cecil's reach, out of the tentacle's reach, and they start whipping angrily around again, and Carlos feels the anger, hears what sounds like a swarm of bees in his ears. He covers one ear and stumbles, catching himself on a counter, and another glass instrument goes rolling off and shatters against the ground. Carlos speaks loudly over the angry buzzing, the sound of something that's started screaming.]

It's in my brain, Cecil. Please. Stop flirting and help me get it out.
cantnotreport: (We did some great things)

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-13 03:02 am (UTC)(link)
I'm not--

[Flirting? Honestly. He wasn't. A display of compassion for a strange creature is not (in most galaxies, anyway) considered flirting. So much for comforting Carlos.

Honestly, he doesn't understand what the problem is. If Carlos would just calm down, perhaps the thing would stop attempting to ravage the lab. In his brain or no, the thing hasn't changed Carlos in any fundamental way. (Excepting, of course, the addition of a few new and rather lovely appendages.) He's still staggeringly analytical, still desperately brave and devastatingly handsome, and still rather quick to jump to conclusions if his reaction to this creature is any indication.

But then he steps away, and it's clear that he's suddenly in pain, and that simply will not do. Cecil frowns deeply, and reaches out to steady Carlos as he stumbles backward.

I'm not sure what you want me to do. This hasn't exactly happened to me before. Just-- Just calm down. Deep breaths, calming thoughts. Our zen exercises, remember?

Calm down and think. What do you need me to do?

[Cecil's hands are firm on Carlos' hips, steadying him, holding his gaze to drive away the panicked thoughts.]
inconclusives: (and love)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-13 05:12 am (UTC)(link)
[He's right. Cecil is right, and Carlos listens to his steady voice through the vibrating screaming of his brain, and focuses on calming down. Cecil's hands on his hips are an anchor, and Carlos straightens from the counter and leans in towards him, his own hand reaching for Cecil's cheek pulling him in a little closer. ]

Sorry. [He breathes, and focuses on slower breathing as the buzzing in his head begins to fade, the tentacles on his back still lashing, bit slower, like a cat's tail.] I'm sorry. You're right. I'm just... A little freaked out.

[ The screaming's stopped, the beast is at bay, and Carlos reasons through the problem again, thinking. Without more testing... Without knowing what it is, or where it came from... Without being able to see it...]

I was hoping you would know, because of the... [He trails off as he catches one of Cecil's wrists in his hand, and his thumb drags over the lines of Cecil's inner forearm where the tentacles have folded back into his skin, leaving only raised purple ink again.]
cantnotreport: (Let us stop here)

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-13 05:33 am (UTC)(link)
[Cecil smiles sheepishly.]

I've had these all my life. Well, or as long as I can remember. I may as well have been born with them, even if I wasn't.

[And he's not ashamed of them. He never has been. The seven extra appendages are as much a part of him as Carlos' arms or legs, as he'd calmly had to explain when he first introduced them. It's still something of a learning curve, of course; sometimes they seem to have a mind of their own, but Cecil equates that more to unconscious effort, like using one's hands for emphasis when one talks.

But they're both intelligent men. Surely, if Carlos really doesn't want to keep the thing, they can come to some amicable solution. Cecil shifts his hand in Carlos' grip, to lace their fingers together and press his thumb comfortingly over the man's palm.

But... You said it's in your brain. Have you tried asking it politely to leave? Or asking what it wants? Oh! Ask its name! That's always a good way to start conversation.
inconclusives: (we now know is named Carlos)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-13 08:43 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ask its name. Ask the parasitic alien that's invading his brain its name.]

[But this is Cecil proposing the idea, and this is Night Vale. It might work, as unlikely and potentially dangerous as further facilitating a neural connection with an intelligent space invader sounds. But Carlos doesn't like it. And he is trying really hard to stay calm, and not think about whether cutting the thing off his back would cause permanent paralysis. Because it probably would. He should probably try talking to it instead, like Cecil said.]

Okay. [He agrees, and sighs, and closes his eyes.] I'll try it.

['What are you?' He thinks, which is the closest to asking its name that Carlos feels comfortable with. Followed quickly by, 'Please leave.' Which is being generously polite, Carlos feels, considering he's an unwilling host of whatever it is.]

[The answers he gets is cold.]
I feel cold. [He tells Cecil, his eyes still closed, and wonders if his hand in Cecil's feels cold to him also, or if the sensation is purely mental and unrelated to his physical temperature. There's a flash of light behind his eyes, and then a sharp pain in his right temple. Carlos winces and opens his eyes.] Light. And pain.

[He lets go of Cecil's hand to rub the spot on his head where the pain is fading.] I don't know what that means. [He says. One of the tentacles from his back sneaks under his raised arm, stretching out, trying to reach Cecil. Carlos slaps it away. It wraps around his wrist instead, and stays there, squeezing. Carlos ignores it.]
cantnotreport: (I am a capsule of energy)

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-14 05:51 am (UTC)(link)
[If there's one thing at which Cecil excels, it's the whole-hearted endorsement of a seemingly fool plan. Because sometimes the foolish, half-formed thoughts make the most sense, particularly in the heat of the moment. That is perhaps the greatest downfall between them both. Cecil can propose the absolutely outlandish, and Carlos is just daring enough to give the proposition a fighting chance.

The wheels are turning. Clearly; Carlos can practically see the notions passing behind Cecil's eyes, strangely calculating. Cold. Light. Pain. Cecil can't make heads nor tails of it either, but something positively compels him. With a small smile, he reaches out to take Carlos' hand again, and his own tentacles separate, slip down to curl around Carlos' wrist and intertwine with the creature's own.

If Carlos is cold--

I don't know either. [Cecil tries and fails to keep the suggestion from his tone.] But we could find a way to keep it warm.

[So maybe a three-way with a parasitic alien wasn't precisely what Carlos had in mind when he entered into this relationship. But Cecil isn't fazed by the concept, and by now, Carlos must be accustomed to the quirks.]
inconclusives: (in equal measure.)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-14 11:31 am (UTC)(link)
[Even if Cecil had managed to keep his tone even when saying it, Carlos knows him too well not to understand what he's suggesting. And his face warms at the suggestion, and he stammers half-formed words as his brain shuts down. Cecil, really. If it were anyone else, Carlos would have been horrified by the idea. But this is Cecil-- saying it in that voice, taking his hand, one of his tentacles sliding over Carlos's wrists... Cecil can make anything sexy. And when did those tentacles become one of Carlos's turn-ons, anyway? Carlos can't remember exactly, but it's definitely classical conditioning to blame. Or love. Something sinister.]

[But blushing and stammering isn't really an answer, so Carlos clears his throat and tries to get it out. The alien tentacle that had been squeezing his wrist hard enough to leave a red ring is now gently curling around Cecil's wrist instead, and Carlos can feel the warm slide of it against Cecil's skin, against Cecil's own tentacles that peel off of his wrist, and Carlos shivers. Maybe this is the answer, as much as he doesn't like it - as much as he thinks this thing deserves punishment and not reward, as much as he doesn't want to share his boyfriend with anyone, never mind a manipulative space monster from another dimension. It likes Cecil. They can use that.]

Yeah. Okay. [Carlos manages to choke out, lacing his fingers with Cecil's again, squeezing his hand once, decisively.] Alright. It's worth a shot. [He meets Cecil's eyes and nods, still mostly trying to convince himself, and then he pulls Cecil by the hand toward the basement stairs.]

[It's not exactly a luxury suite or anything, but it's a finished basement, and there's a cot down there Carlos sleeps on more often that he sleeps in his own bed. It's something, anyway. They have to step over glass and broken instruments along the way, and Carlos has to keep reminding himself not to be angry about it. There's going to be so much cleaning to do, so much ordering from catalogs to replace all of this-- So much paperwork. He eyes the whiteboard as they pass, a circular ring singed in the middle of it. Light, he remembers. Light. What is he missing? What does it mean?]

[He lets go of Cecil's hand to open the basement door, but the tentacles from his back keep holding on - he can still feel them sliding slow over the inside of Cecil's wrist. Carlos isn't jealous, he tells himself and ignores it. He's not. He heads down the stairs, assumes Cecil is following.]
cantnotreport: (We did some great things)

I am so sorry, I didn't get a notif!

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-15 06:33 am (UTC)(link)
[To Cecil's credit, though he knows the creature is a separate being, he can't really consider it as such when it's chosen Carlos as a host. It's a bit inconvenient, granted. But Cecil reasons that, were he a parasitic alien horror, he would choose Carlos as a host without question. Such a strong jaw, such perfect teeth and hair. Clearly a superior example of his species, worthy of charging with such a glorious burden.

In a way, Carlos should be flattered that he was chosen, though Cecil knows there's no chance of that. And this is all quite romantic in his own mind.

Cecil closes the door behind them, not that anyone else has stayed behind in the lab to follow. The stairs creak beneath their weight, and Cecil recalls -- with a fond smile and a flutter in his stomach -- the first time Carlos brought him down these stairs. A bit of a shock for Carlos when Cecil's shirt came off, but quite an enjoyable evening once Cecil promised to keep his tentacles to himself.

Though they do tend to roam...

You're sure? [Cecil's hand and tentacles all are idly passing over the alien creature's. The moment they reach the basement, his other hand rests on Carlos' shoulder as well. Comforting, grounding.]

I'm sure we can find another way, if you're not comfortable with this...
inconclusives: (that perfect hair)

wow dw rude. no worries!

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-15 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
No, it's fine. [Carlos answers gruffly, then forces a smile, rests a hand over Cecil's hand on his shoulder. He's trying to be confident about this, trying to be reassuring.] It's a good idea. Really. Better than taking a scalpel to it, anyway. [That hadn't gone well, Carlos remembers with a phantom wave of pain. But he means the words. If this is something that might work, it's worth trying. And even if it doesn't work, at the very least, they'd be narrowing things down, eliminating one possibility.]

[Also it's an excuse to have sex with Cecil. Weird, kinky, tentacle sex. Carlos can't really turn that down, even if it makes him nervous. Even if it scares him. And being able to feel what the parasite feels... maybe he'll learn something about Cecil, this way, too. That alone would make this worth it.]

[He takes Cecil's hand from his shoulder, and guides him by it over to the cot. He's still kind of embarrassed by this place. He'd like to show Cecil something nicer than the neglected basement of a research lab, and a cot with thread-bare sheets, one pillow, and a throw blanket someone's grandmother probably knitted. But Cecil never mentioned hating it, so. That's a plus.]

[Carlos sits on the cot, and pulls Cecil down into sitting next to him. And he doesn't waste any time in pulling Cecil closer by a hand on his neck, and kissing him. Whatever the tentacles are doing to Cecil's hand, wrapping around his fingers, reaching out for Cecil's tentacles to intertwine, pulling like little fingers on Cecil's shirt - whatever he feels them doing, Carlos is going to pretend not to notice. He's going to pretend they're not there at all for right now, he's decided. He's just more comfortable that way.]
cantnotreport: (Your hand my hand)

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-15 02:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[Ignoring them won't be a valid option for very long, Cecil is making quite sure of that. Because while Carlos is trying very hard to ignore them, Cecil's tentacles are winding around the creature's and pulling Carlos inexorably closer as he melts into that kiss.

Distantly, it occurs to Cecil that Carlos' clothing will be more of a challenge than usual. While Cecil has perfected the art of carefully dressing with mindfulness to his extra appendages, Carlos' new guest has not granted him that privilege. But that's the best part of having tentacles: they're absolutely brilliant for multitasking. Even as Cecil's hands slip through Carlos' hair, push through the lush curls and hold him firmer to his lips, he's already so busy with other things. Tentacles creep beneath the collar of Carlos' labcoat, carefully easing it away from his shoulders as others loosen his own tie.

Fine motor skills may be lost on them, but they have undressing down to a fine art. And with Carlos as their subject, they seem positively eager.

You'll tell me-- [Cecil breaks the slowly-building heat of their lips just long enough to speak.] --tell me if you're not comfortable with anything?

[He's relying on that. Because above all, Cecil is dedicated to Carlos' pleasure. And perhaps if he can help Carlos forget that there's an alien creature attempting to establish a symbiotic state with him -- better yet, if he can help Carlos to find some benefit in it -- then he'll consider it a job well done.]
inconclusives: (His hair is perfect)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-16 07:55 am (UTC)(link)
[Carlos chuckles against Cecil's lips, low and rumbling in his throat. He's got an alien creature grafting itself onto his back, he's got Cecil's tentacles undressing him, and he's really asking if he's not comfortable with anything? That's a joke, right? Because Cecil and his body oddities are one thing, but Carlos is not at all comfortable with a a separate entity that isn't Cecil forcibly trying to merge itself with him, and he doesn't think he has to be.]

I'll tell you. [Carlos promises, and pushes back into the kiss again, closing his eyes, opening his mouth, absorbing himself in the feel of good, deep kissing. He knows what Cecil means, knows Cecil's opinions on comfort are very different than his, and he's only trying to be a good boyfriend. And if something happens - if the monster decides to detach itself while they're in the middle of this, or starts affecting his motor skills, or something - something like that, Carlos will let Cecil know about, and they'll stop and deal with it then. Otherwise? He can handle this. It's not like the tentacles are a new thing, after all.]

[Although there are a lot of them now, and even though Carlos can feel the sensations of half of them the same way he feels any other body part moving, he still can't keep track of them, entirely. They're wrapped all around him, pushing between them, and he has the wherewithal enough at least to shrug his shoulders out of his lab coat, pull his arms out of it, and let it fall onto the alien creature on his back. Let it deal with that.]

[Cecil's already got his own tie open, so Carlos's hands drop between them to unbutton his vest, and his shirt beneath it. Tentacles are useful, but you kind of need thumbs for buttons. If you want to keep the buttons on the shirt. And, anyway, Carlos feels more helpful this way. Like he's participating, and not just sandwiched between tentacle monsters going at it.]

[...How does this thing on his back even reproduce? God, he doesn't want to think about it.]
cantnotreport: (Fits so easy)

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-17 02:59 am (UTC)(link)
[When one's daily life involves dealing with a membranous wall in one's apartment, or cowering in the fetal position from one's upper management, or paying daily homage to unknown terror gods via bloodstone circle, comfort is a somewhat relative thing. At some point, one simply learns to roll with the punches, take it all in with a smile and a shrug.

Carlos hasn't quite reached that point, Cecil knows. But he's making a valiant effort, and for that he should be thoroughly commended. Commended with lips and teeth and tongue and touch and love, and fairly everything Cecil has to offer him.

And for what it's worth, Cecil is trying his very best to pay sole attention to Carlos. While a few of Cecil's tentacles are wandering beyond that -- black and leathery and coaxing -- Cecil's hands are spidering down the back of Carlos' neck. Over his shoulders, his chest and his stomach, to untuck his shirt and slip beneath it. If there's one thing he loves -- one thing in which he positively revels -- it's Carlos' bare skin. Warmth, a spark of heat that had little to do with physical temperature. The bare skin beneath his hands begs the first hints of arousal, in a shiver and a soft whimper against Carlos' lips.

Lips that are on the tip of Cecil's tongue, along with all the sweet nothings he's at a loss to utter.

It doesn't quite occur to him that this in itself may be strange for Carlos. The idea that everything -- Cecil's hands, his mouth, and every one of his seven tentacles -- all that attention is normally focused on Carlos. To have it divided so, between him and the creature on his back, may be a jarring thing in and of itself. But damned if Cecil can keep his own tentacles from winding around the creature's, from following them down to the very base, to dance along the raw ridge of flesh where it meets Carlos' back, over and again until he's not sure where Carlos ends and the alien begins.

He's dizzy. Distantly, he wonders if that's simply Carlos' natural effect on him, or something far more sinister.

Carlos. [His name. Just his name, in a slow, deep moan; an embodiment of his love and his need. Nothing speaks more clearly than that.]
inconclusives: (was perfect.)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-17 04:36 am (UTC)(link)
[Thanks to Cecil (Cecil's mouth, mostly. Also his hands. Also his tentacles. Okay, his everything.), Carlos is starting to forget about the whole body invasion thing. ...Well, not forget about it, exactly. Not enjoy it. But something in between. Cecil is breathing his name against his mouth in that voice that hits Carlos in all of the right places; he's warm and solid and familiar, and all Carlos wants is to keep kissing him like this, touching him, being touched by him like this, like...]

[...Like whatever he's doing to Carlos's back. He's stroking and squeezing those damn tentacles that are just so sensitive, especially in that spot where tentacles end and Carlos' spine starts. The alien in his brain is practically melting with pleasure at whatever it is Cecil is doing and, as weird as it is to feel some other being's pleasure through his brain, it feels too damn good for Carlos to care. Really damn good. It shouldn't feel that good, should it?]

God. [He groans against Cecil's lips, and his hands push over Cecil's chest to his neck and pull him closer, as if they could get closer, and Carlos wishes in his pleasure-hazed mind that he had tentacles, too, to be able to pull Cecil that much closer to him.]


[Carlos manages, somehow, to stop thinking about Cecil's mouth long enough to think at the thing in his brain instead. 'I don't like you,' he tells it, 'And you don't like me. But we both like him, right? We can work together.' And the feeling he gets is warmth instead of cold, a wash of warm, tingling pleasure instead of pain, and two of the tentacles from the creature on his back slither past his sides, over two of Cecil's tentacles, to slide under Cecil's open shirt and vest, to wrap around Cecil's back and pull him closer towards Carlos's lap.]

Hey, it worked. [Carlos grins, the expression subdued by his lust, and his hands rest on Cecil's jaw while the tentacles wrapped around Cecil's back slide lower, squeeze firmer.]
cantnotreport: (Your hand my hand)

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-18 05:02 am (UTC)(link)
[Despite his relative composure, Cecil gasps at the foreign tentacles that creep beneath his shirt. He won't pretend he hasn't felt this before, hasn't wrapped himself in his own tentacles during the throes of self-pleasure, but these aren't his tentacles. Familiar in some ways, but completely unknown to him in others; it's Carlos, working in tandem with the creature, to press against his bare skin and pull him closer. Carlos' tentacles. The realization comes with a sudden wave of arousal and a hot flush to Cecil's face.

Normal circumstances would dictate something of a pattern. At this point, Cecil would shove Carlos down onto the cot and straddle his hips, peel away the rest of his clothing with hands and tentacles alike. But he can't do that now, can he? He has no way of knowing if he'd hurt Carlos or the creature, if lying on his back is even an option at this juncture. Instead, he settles for lifting himself over Carlos as he's guided, settling in his lap with his thighs cradling the scientist's waist.

But the restriction is frustrating at best. With an amorous sigh, Cecil pulls his arms free of both his shirt and vest, and his tentacles are free to peel themselves away from the rest of their confines. Free of his biceps and shoulders, his sides, rising down to their very base in his low back. Three on each side, with the seventh nearly caudal at the bottom. And range of movement means the freedom to stray further still. To push Carlos' shirt up for his hands to catch and peel away. To tug clumsily at Carlos' belt until Cecil's more dexterous fingers are able to work his way through it.

And one, far too eager for such pleasantries, slips down the back of Carlos' pants.

See? You can reason with it. [Cecil mirrors Carlos' lust-hazy grin.] So what will you do with it?
inconclusives: (we now know is named Carlos)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-18 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
[Carlos can't say it isn't thrilling, the change in routine. ...Not that anything involving Cecil, with his strangeness and his tentacles, ever really gets routine, which probably has a lot to do with why Carlos loves him as much as he does. Always something new to discover, to figure out. But this? Feeling Cecil's body in a whole new way, through new membranes, with new sense receptors he never had-- It's almost enough for Carlos to forget it's not just the two of them, that a parasitic alien is still worming its way deeper into his nervous system. What will he do with it?]

[Any chance at answering that is lost at the feel of that one tentacle sliding its way down against his ass.]
Ah-- [Carlos breathes, trying to remember what he was planning to say, when he's too distracted to think. He shifts back against the tentacle, pulling Cecil by his thighs to grind more against his lap. His hands slide over the tight fabric, palms wide, sliding over Cecil's skin of his sides, to his back, to fondle and squeeze that spot between skin and tentacle that felt so good when Cecil had been touching it before.]

[Then he remembers the answer to Cecil's question he'd had before.]
How about this? [And while the rest of the creatures tentacles are occupied twining around the newly exposed lengths of Cecil's own, one Carlos thinks about enough to move, watches it slide around Cecil's neck, and up, to drag over his lips, his mouth, and feel what that new sensation is like.] Is this okay? [He asks, voice rough, because he doesn't know. This is new for them both, and he wants to be sure. Meanwhile, he busies his actual hands with Cecil's belt and opening his pants, returning the favor, because that's got to be constrictive, if what Carlos is feeling is anything to go by.]
cantnotreport: (Your hand my hand)

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-18 06:33 am (UTC)(link)
[Oh god above, that's okay. That's beyond okay. The tentacle slides over Cecil's mouth, and his reaction is embarrassingly instinctive. His lips part, tongue creeping out to taste of the thing, just for a moment before he lifts a hand to coax it inside. Not quite fellating; the tentacle is too different, too dynamic, to treat it the same as one would a cock. But Cecil's eyes flutter shut nevertheless, and he sucks delicately, stroking with his tongue as a soft groan thrills from his throat.

Sensations are overwhelming. The tentacle in his mouth, the spares sliding across his skin, Carlos' hands on his thighs and his back, Carlos' own body and flesh beneath Cecil's hands and tentacles. It's simultaneously too much and not enough, and if Cecil could immerse himself completely in this, he would, and without hesitation. He's almost there, almost lost himself with the slow grind of their hips, but some shred of reason is lingering, if only to remind him to be delicate and slow with Carlos.

He's always so careful with Carlos, even as the scientist drowns himself in everything Cecil has to offer him.

Cecil manages to fumble his way through the front of Carlos' pants, to open and ease them away just enough to free his cock. Intent though he is on the tentacle in his mouth, he can't forego the opportunity to take Carlos' cock in hand. To take him in a firm grip and stroke, as the tentacle behind Carlos shifts and slides against the tightness of his entrance, teasing without pushing past.

Cecil is maddeningly good at that. Teasing. If only because he's content to fully savor everything that comes to pass between them.
inconclusives: (He grinned)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-20 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
['Oral fixation' is the first thought that comes to Carlos's mind as he watches transfixed, as he feels Cecil tongue and suck the tentacle pressed to his mouth. Carlos isn't sure who he's thinking it about - Cecil or himself - but it doesn't matter. Cecil's mouth is amazing, what Carlos is feeling through the strangely sensitive membrane of the alien tentacle is amazing, and he can be as fixated on it as he wants.]

[How Cecil even manages to find focus enough to reach into Carlos' pants and palm his cock while he's doing that with his mouth is a scientific miracle. And that tentacle, sliding against his ass-- Carlos makes a pathetic sound at the contact, something between a moan and whimper, and without his thinking it, the tentacle in Cecil's mouth pushes deeper, more aggressively, and Carlos is a little scared to wonder who's doing it - him or the alien in his brain.]

[Well, he's not actually scared. He is way too gone to be scared. Even fear is just adrenaline, just another kind of pleasure, now. And that's all that matters to Carlos, as he rocks his hips forward into Cecil's hand, back against the teasing press of Cecil's tentacle, and his own wide hands squeeze Cecil's hips before catching in the waist of his pants, jerking them as far down his hips as they'll go in this position.]

[Before he can even think it, one of the alien's tentacles is sliding under and around Cecil's cock, squeezing and pulling, and Carlos' hands hesitate uselessly on Cecil's hips, and god it feels good. All of it - the weight and warmth of Cecil's cock on the tentacle, the heat and wet of his mouth, Cecil's hand on his cock, Cecil's tentacle at his ass. Carlos is practically panting, his senses all thrumming, overwhelmed.]

[He finally thinks to drag his hands up to Cecil's face again, to pull the tentacle away, even though it resists and wraps itself possessively around Cecil's neck instead. His thumbs drag over Cecil's lips now, rest at the corners of his mouth.]
This was a good idea. [He breathes, voice rough, and it feels like everything is vibrating, like the air around Carlos is as affected as he is.] This was a really good idea.
cantnotreport: (Your hand my hand)

[personal profile] cantnotreport 2013-12-20 05:56 am (UTC)(link)
I have those occasionally. [Cecil grins, breathless.] Really good ideas...

[Granted, Carlos' initial reaction to most of Cecil's ideas is skepticism. Or was. Cecil has learned to be patient with Carlos, and Carlos has started (if not embracing) accepting Night Vale's eccentricities. Cecil included. Because there's very little that's conventional about Cecil, and Carlos knew that from the start.

And yet, he'd taken a chance on this. On them. There's nothing in Night Vale more strange or wonderful than that.

Cecil's head tilts back with the loose wrap of the tentacle around his neck, and when another curls around his cock, he can do little more than gasp and shiver. Whatever sense had been remaining utterly abandons him, and his grip on Carlos' shaft falters -- just slightly, just for a moment -- because multitasking in the wake of that has become increasingly difficult. The sensations wash over him like electric, like a soft current over every nerve, and he swears he can feel every particle come alive and aflame at the touch. Such blissful agony on his face, brow knit, lips parted as he struggles for steady breath, cheeks flush with a red that's slowly painting its way down his throat and chest.

This is how sex looks on Cecil, and he rarely looks so fascinating.

Cecil strains against the tentacle around his neck, presses forward to catch Carlos' mouth in a kiss once more. The tentacle at Carlos' ass is still teasing, still stroking along with the tremulous wrap of Cecil's hand around his cock. Each of his other tentacles have found themselves a task as well: pushing through Carlos' hair, gently tugging to free him of his remaining clothing, tangling with the alien creature and winding around to keep it occupied while Cecil has his way with Carlos. Because that's all he wants. That's all he ever wants. Carlos, in all his perfection and his imperfection, alien tentacle beast or no.
inconclusives: (and we all hate)

[personal profile] inconclusives 2013-12-20 07:37 am (UTC)(link)
[Carlos sighs into the kiss, and he can't help thinking through the thrumming heat, through the beating of his blood in his veins and the sparking peaks of arousal that this is kind of symmetrical. That's why it works. He loves Cecil, but he's not like Cecil. And sex with Cecil has always been kind of a struggle for both of them: for Carlos, with his two hands and the inadequacy that comes with only having two hands, and for Cecil, with his seven tentacles, feeling the burdens of restraint and control that come with having so many thoughts, and feelings, that power at once. Now Carlos understand. Now the playing field is level. Now there's an equal input and output on each side of the equation. And it feels so good to be balanced like this. Cecil's tentacles are keeping the alien's busy, and it's nice. It's just really nice. How did it take an invasive alien third party for Carlos to figure this out?]

[But it's working for them. They're kissing again, and Carlos is only encouraging it, leaning into the kisses, panting against Cecil's mouth, sliding his tongue over Cecil's, dragging his teeth over Cecil's lower lip. He never gets tired of Cecil's mouth, of his kisses. Of Cecil's anything. He exudes sex. And even before Carlos loved him, or knew he loved him - back when Cecil made him nervous, and Carlos made any excuse to avoid him - even then he was attracted to him. Who in Night Vale wasn't? Carlos would go back to the lab sometimes, back to this cot with a bottle of lube and a spare lab coat to clean up the mess, and listen to Cecil talk about him on the radio, and pretend he was thinking about someone else: an ex, or someone from college. Someone normal.]

[And now here he is a year and a half later, having sex with Cecil, and an alien creature from another dimension, and more tentacles that he could keep track of. And wondering how he got so lucky. Normal is so over-rated.]

[Carlos doesn't stop kissing Cecil, because he doesn't have to. But he slides his hands from Cecil's face down, down to his lower back where the last tentacle joins at the dramatic curve of his spine, and down further from there. He grabs Cecil's ass in his hands and squeezes, pulls him closer into his lap by his hands full until they're as close as they can get, without getting inside the other. The tentacle at Cecil's neck slips down to wrap around Cecil's wrist instead, and it wraps and pulls his hand away from Carlos' cock- just far enough to be out of the way, so that the tentacle wrapped around Cecil's cock can wrap around them both instead. It slides, squeezing, as Carlos groans into the heavy kisses, and the tentacle jerks them both off together, warm, sensitive skin sliding.]

[Carlos leaves off grabbing Cecil's ass with one hand and reaches behind himself instead - groping at the side table for the drawer, which he pulls, and pulls too far, and the contents go skidding across the floor. The groan and sigh he makes against Cecil's mouth are less sexy this time. And he glances sideways at the mess he's made of books, and spare batteries, and somewhere in the mess there is a bottle of lube.]

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