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#eye on the forest floor
deathandmushrooms · 2 years
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Crown Coral | Artomyces pyxidatus
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wyldefungi · 2 years
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Woods and mushrooms
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sleepyminty · 7 months
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I like how everyone in the pm fandom agrees that Binah has apocalypse bird or the black forest trio as some weird house bird pets. As if they should come as a package, if you have three world ending scps you should have it with this scary tea lady. Binah is so much as a menace that she has a 3 in 1 aleph class abno as some pets
(Also thay have matching aesthetic and represent each other, they really do make for each other huh)
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mud-castle · 1 month
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Eyes of stars AU: so Fire is a guardian right? And the whole next generation goes through some horrible shit, being kicked from their home, moving to the lake, the badger attack, the fox trap, then all the fights that happen before the Great Battle against the Dark Forest comes down...what type of Guardian would Fire be?
Tbh I used Bluestar as an example because I didn't want to use Fire because I'd need to have basically finished the story to know that.
Uh, I will say, usually he's like the flame in a hearth. He keeps the chill of the outdoors away and smells of home and safety. When he agitates, he becomes a little too hot. Not enough to burn, but enough to discomfort. A warning. Occasionally he'll raze through the land, burning whats there to clear the way for new, better growth. This is not always a sign of anger. It hurts and it seems cruel, but in the long run it's for the best.
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ditch-lily · 1 year
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stuck chasing deadlines again instead of what i want to be doing (having kim thoughts. or going outside seeing what mushrooms i can find. maybe both at the same time)
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This morning Mr. LB gave me a stern talking to because he asked me what I was writing and I revealed I'd started a new one shot. He has since encouraged me to reopen the MKCU doc 😂
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stayathome-ts · 7 months
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I don't really think about "What if the rest of my friends from my memories were here with me" scenarios much anymore, but I think we desperately need a movie night with the six of us from my memories to watch the terrible pre-2015 movies that our respective actors are in.
Most importantly I need Clint to watch Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013).
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fabsfightcats · 2 years
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SCREAMING CRYING RUNNING INTO THE WALL!! THIS GUY STRIKESTONE IS MY ALL TIME FAVORITE EVER IN THE WORLD!!! I LOVE HIM I LOVE THIS GUY!! picks him up by the scruff and shakes him MY SCRUNKLY MY BLORBO MY LITTLE GUY!! 
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deathandmushrooms · 1 year
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specshroom · 1 month
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So I read that lemurs scoop their competitor's sperm out of females with their tongues. I don't actually know if that's true but...
JUST IMAGINE.
You're found by a troop of these half lemur half human creatures in the forest. Basically a human but with lemur traits, striped tails, huge eyes, furry ears, little snouts and long prehensile tongues, the whole shabang.
It's not long before one or two of them are rubbing up on you, rubbing their scent glands on you which, unbeknownst to you, works as a pretty strong aphrodisiac to humans.
They struggle your back pack and clothes off, leaving you just as naked as they are. You might have been more concerned about that if it wasn't for one of them shoving his strange tongue down your throat and rubbing the scent glands on his wrists all over your naked skin. The pheromones have made you putty in their hands. Two kneel on the ground in front of you and lick up your thighs, feverishly sniffing and lapping at your wet pussy.
After a bit of a skirmish one of them finally mounts and fucks you, much to the others displeasure. It's fast and needy, his arms holding you around the waist to hit those good spots inside you. As you look up at the trees you notice there are many more in this troop than you realised, watching you from the high branches.
The one fucking you finally cums deep inside you. He licks and nibbles at your tits until another one gets impatient and pushes him off starting a fight between them. The sneaky third one takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue into your pussy and scoop out the first's cum, repeatedly dragging his rough tongue along your walls. When he feels he's dragged out enough cum he quickly thrusts himself inside you and fucks you at an alarming pace. Biting your shoulder and neck with his small but sharp teeth. His balls slap against your ass as his load replaces the first one's.
Imagine this process just repeating over and over again, they almost make a game of it. One cums inside and another scoops it out again and again. You can do little but lay there and moan on the forest floor, absolutely cock drunk, just being filled and emptied and filled and emptied.
You become the troops new play thing or maybe you'll join the troop if one of their many loads takes.
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kithj · 7 months
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happy friday the 13th here are some spooky text-based games for halloween:
contrition - As a priest, it’s your job to listen to your parishioners’ darkest secrets and absolve their guilt. But when a sinister stranger comes to the confessional one Halloween night, you realize it’s your soul on the line.
familiar - You are a familiar. Your mistress has some requests for you. Help her complete her ritual, or pay the price of failure.
jagged bone - A branching choose-your-own-adventure horror game about transformation and perspective. 
the forest of candles (and the man with a lighter) - follows Maggie, a young woman with a fear of forest fires sparked by an old town folk tale. She's spent years trying to escape her hometown and the fear it inspires in her, only to be called back for the funeral of an old friend.
mary's hare - Mary's Hare is short interactive horror story about a woman and a rabbit, based on the story of Mary Toft.
only this - "And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming / And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor..."
what girls do in the dark - a slumber party text adventure.
god is in the radio - you are death, one of 22 members of the major arcana, a cult dedicated to some far-off god. the night is halloween, and you watch in scorn as the unknowing dance among devils and dress to indulge in sin. the high priestess receives a message from the all-mighty himself: the arcana must gather in an abandoned house and find his song on an old radio receiver.
anchorhead - Travel to the haunted coastal town of Anchorhead, Massachusetts and uncover the roots of a horrific conspiracy inspired by the works of H. P. Lovecraft. Search through musty archives and tomes of esoteric lore; dodge hostile townsfolk; combat a generation-spanning evil that threatens your family and the entire world. (illustrated version on itch.io)
my father's long, long legs - An interactive horror story about family, unease, and loss.
beneath floes - Qikiqtaaluk, 1962. The sun falls below the horizon and won't return for months. You wander the broken shoreline, wary of your mother's stories about the qalupalik. Fish woman, stealer of wayward children: she dwells beneath the ice.
the silence under your bed - An interactive horror collection about the strange, the spooky, and the macabre. 
bogeyman - You can go home when you learn to be good.
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whiterosemilktea · 1 year
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is sofi blind? yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyes. is she blind in every verse? nnnnnnnnnnno. is she consistently blind in the verses where she is? ........ also no.
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steddie-as-they-come · 6 months
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"Mom," Steve whispered in the inky blackness of his parents' room. "Mom, there's something under my bed."
Patricia Harrington turned over. "Steven, go back to sleep," she murmured.
"I can't." Steve said. "There's a monster."
"No such thing." his mom said, angrier, more awake. "Go to bed now, and if I catch you out of bed again you can forget going to Tommy's this weekend."
Steve nodded and padded back down the hall, pausing at his door then taking a running jump into bed.
The room was silent.
"I know you're here." Steve whispered, making sure all his limbs were tucked safely away under the covers. "You don't scare me."
A couple minutes of quiet, then Steve heard a scraping sound come from under his bed. He squeaked and pulled his blankets up to his nose.
A horrible, raspy laugh came from below him. "I do scare you!" said a voice. "You lied!"
"No-no you don't!" Steve said boldly. He clutched his blanket tighter, then said, "I can't be scared of something I can't see! That's just dumb."
Something dark began to slither across the floor out of the corner of Steve's eye. Oh, I'm gonna regret that, he thought.
The thing began to pull itself up, looming over Steve. It cracked a smile, and sharp white teeth gleamed in the light from his closet.
Steve screamed.
"Shut up!" his dad shouted angrily from downstairs, and Steve clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes flicking between the shadow and the door like he wasn't sure which monster to be more afraid of.
The monster crept toward him, and Steve dug his fingernails into his face, scooting away from the horror. He whimpered, not daring to close his eyes.
Then the monster began to shrink.
It shriveled away, changing color and backing up, until a little boy, about Steve's age, stood in front of him. He had long curly hair and was dressed in a t-shirt that was way too big on him. When he opened his eyes, Steve flinched, because the whites of his eyes simply...weren't there. His eyes were an onyx black.
"Hi," the boy said. "I'm Eddie."
Steve was too stunned to speak, but he did uncover his mouth.
"I'm the monster under your bed!" Eddie said. "I'm supposed to scare you, but, um-" he risked a quick look at the door "-I don't think you need my help for that."
"Why are you supposed to scare me?" Steve asked.
Eddie shrugged. "Dunno. Every kid's got one. It's just how it works. I was made to be your monster, forever!" He sat down on the edge Steve's bed, bumping Steve's shoulder against his. "Weird to be on this side of the bed. No dust bunnies or anything."
Steve giggled, forgetting his fear. "You're fun!"
Eddie grinned at him. "Thank you! None of the other monsters think my jokes are funny."
"So you have to scare me?" Steve asked. "But you're not scary. Not after talking to me."
Eddie paused. "Oh, right. I'm not supposed to talk to you. Um..."
"What if we just say you're scaring me?" Steve asked. "I'll pretend I'm really scared of the monster under my bed, and you pretend you scare me every single night. But really we're hanging out instead of scaring!"
"Ooh, I like that idea!" Eddie struck a dramatic pose. "I'll be the monster under your bed, but I'll be ready to protect you if you need it too!"
Steve stuck out his hand like he saw his dad do for business deals. "Deal?"
Eddie shook it. "Deal."
-
Steve sprinted through the forest, the kids hot on his heels. "There!" he shouted. "Everyone in!"
The kids bolted to the abandoned cabin, and Steve slammed the door shut. "Is there a bed in here?" he called. "A couch? A fridge?"
"Bed's in here!" Will yelled, and Steve followed his voice to the cluttered bedroom, complete with partially-caved-in bedframe. He gingerly took a seat on the mattress, cringing when it crackled. He did not need to know what was on this.
"Eddie?" he called, tapping on the flaky painted wood.
The shitheads crowded in, and Mike murmured. "What the fuck is he doing?"
Steve ignored him. "Eddie, come on, I need your help."
Something tall, dark, and lanky slid out from under the bed, and all the kids jumped back in fright, raising their various weapons. Steve leapt to get in front of them, raising his hands as a shield. "Chill! Calm down, this is Eddie!"
Eddie shrank into his human form, draping himself over Steve. "You had to summon me to the nastiest bed in Indiana? Really, Steve?"
Steve shrugged. "This was the closest one. We need your help, Eds."
"We?" He focused on the Party. "Well, these must be the infamous buttheads." Eddie slid into the shadows and reappeared behind the Party, inspecting them. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, right?" he said, pointing at each one as he said their names.
"What the fuck are you?" Dustin asked.
Suddenly Eddie was under Steve's arm, wrapping a hand around his waist. "I'm Steve's monster under the bed." he said. "I'm just... friendlier with Steve than most of the monsters I work with."
Steve rolled his eyes. "You can tell him you're my boyfriend, they know I'm bi." He kissed Eddie on the cheek.
The kids all broke into gasps, except for Max, who fake gagged. "Don't be gross!" she yelled. "Demogorgon outside, remember?"
"Ah, right." Steve said. "Eds, can you-"
"On it." Eddie kissed Steve. "I'll be back."
The kids watched Eddie melt into shadows, then wheeled on Steve. "Steven Don't-Know-Your-Middle-Name Harrington," Dustin said. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
edit: i did not expect this response to the short little thing that took me 30 mins max at 2am!! i’m planning on rewriting it and turning it into a full length fic, so i’ll come back and edit this with the link!
edit #2: if there’s anything you guys want to see in the full length version of this please let me know!! i’m trying my best to make it a slowburn which is horrid for my adhd so let me know if there’s anything you want!!
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you’ve heard of is he hot or is he just tall, now get ready for the much more damning is he cute or is he just short
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monster-disaster · 7 months
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[tentacle] The monster under the bed
tentacle!monster x human!Reader Good to know: somnophilia, a bit of dub-con
Summary: Your aunt's house is not as empty as you thought.
A/N: For kinktober 2023, I have a new town full of monsters. Here is the masterlist.
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The change in the air is thick and heavy after you leave the Welcome to Grimbrook sign behind you. You feel it in your core. It's cold and silent. For a second, everything goes quiet, and the time seems to stop. The rumbling of your car gets muffled, and the colors of the lush, green forest at your sides fade into a milky fog flowing above the ground. You can't see the tall mountains and their sharp edges in the distance anymore. The clear blue sky turns gray, and you can't find the sun anymore, either. Just a few dim rays shine down on the road in front of you, showing your way to the village next to the sea.
As you get closer, you can smell the salty scent of the water even through the closed windows of your car. It's heavy in your nostrils. The sound of the waves gets louder too. From the top of the uphill, you can see the village with its old stone buildings and the sea behind everything. It seems colorless, merging into the dark sky at the horizon. It is beautiful and terrifying at the same time. There is something in Grimbrook that you can't pinpoint but freezes your insides. The only light you can see comes from a lighthouse at the edge of a cliff. It emits a soft, rhythmic beam of yellow light that cuts through the heavy fog, casting eerie shadows over the still village. Seagulls glide through the mist above the white seafoam, waving across the dark surface.
"Okay," you hum, forcing your eyes to go back to the GPS on your phone. The blue line clearly shows your way to the house you have to reach before night falls. It leads you out of the center of the villages until you reach a small suburb with Victorian houses standing in a long row with grand iron gates and gardens.
The monotone voice of the GPS informs you when you reach the right house, and after sitting in your car for a few more minutes, you have no other option but to get out and make your way up to the porch. The wooden planks creak under your steps as you look around a bit better. The house is old, with tall walls, characterful windows, and a dark green door with a golden knocker in the middle. It's cold in your hold as you knock it against the door.
You don't get an answer, though.
The door opens, and you find yourself facing a narrow foyer with stairs on the right side. Pictures and paintings hang on the walls in dark wood and golden frames. You can see the entrance of the kitchen at the end. And on your left side, there is an arch that leads you to the living room.
"Hello?" You break the silence. Your voice is hoarse and quiet. You have to force your legs to move and not turn back to your car and leave this place immediately. "Somebody?" Your gaze lands on a small table in the corner next to the entrance door. There is a letter with your name on it.
Dear Cat, I'm sorry I can't be here when you arrive. Make yourself at home, and we will talk tomorrow. Delilah
"Great," you sigh, letting the paper fall back onto the surface of the small table.
For a second, you think about searching for a hotel or something similar to spend the night, but to be honest, it doesn't sound much better either. You know you should leave the town to feel better, but it's not an option. So you close the door behind you and wander further into the house.
You got a call a few weeks ago about your aunt you met long years ago. She died, and now you have a house. You can keep it. You can sell it. Whatever you want.
The house is old, with a lot of wood, dark colors, and golden details. There are still newspapers from months ago on the coffee table in the living room. The rug under you is faded and thin. The floor creaks every now and again. There are two rooms and a bathroom upstairs. The bigger room is still occupied with your aunt's belongings. The scent of her perfume still lingers in the air. You remember her when you were a kid. She came to your grandmother's funeral, and you never saw her again. Nobody really talked about her in the family. The only things you know are that she was kind but preferred her own company above everything else. She lost her husband in her late twenties but stayed in Grimbrook, barely leaving the town.
The guestroom is much more bare than the other parts of the house. A bed in the middle with two nightstands and a lamp. There is a drawer in front of it and a mirror on the wall. The window is slightly open, letting in the cold autumn breeze. You have a view of the street from here. It's calm and empty. The only reasons you know you are not the only person in the town are because you can see a few cars here and there and a dog barking in the distance. The fog is thick and heavy. You can't see the end of the street through it.
After wandering around the house some more, you decide to call your friend until you have no other option but to change and try to get some sleep.
Climbing up on the bed in the guest room, you settle under the thick covers. The scent of the linen is faded and mixed with dust and the night air coming through the window. It's dark outside, not counting a few lamps on the street. Their orange lights filter into the room. And everything is quiet. So quiet that your ears almost start to ring. You are not used to it. You live in the city with constant noises.
When sleep takes you, it's restless and everything but relaxing. You fidget and turn, trying to find a comfortable position as you balance between the darkness and the real world. Your head feels just as foggy as Grimbrook, and at some point, you can't decide if you are dreaming or not.
You are on your back, one arm on your stomach, and the other is next to your body. The autumn breeze caresses your skin, moving up from your feet to your ankles and calves. Shiver runs through your spine at the feeling. You want to reach out for the blanket, but even though your arms move, they do not obey your command. Something pets the thin skin of your wrist. It's soft and barely noticeable. You feel your muscles stretch as you reach up to the headrest of the bed, but you don't even know why. The cold moves up further on your legs. It curls around your flesh, spreading you in the middle of the bed. Your heels dig into the mattress. Your body tenses when your limbs don't do as you want. A frown deepens between your brows.
"What?" A hoarse grunt leaves your lips. When you open your eyes, you meet darkness, and you are not sure if you are really awake or not. Your eyelids are heavy, and not even a second later, you fall back asleep again.
The bottom of your pajama slips down on your legs. The waist stretches around your parted legs. Something slides up on your stomach under your t-shirt. It is slick and soft. A gasp echoes in your room when it flicks your nipple. The thing curls around the flesh of your tits, groping and caressing. Your nipples harden under the strange touch. Saliva? A tongue?
Where are you?
And there is something else between your legs. The muscles of your thighs tense, and the hold around you tightens.
"What?" You groan again into the silence. As you look down on your body, you see your t-shirt around your neck. Your breasts are bare. Something dark and purple curls around them, squeezing and licking. The teasing on your nipples is almost painful. At the back of your mind, you want more. Your head falls back onto the pillows, and you are asleep again.
The tentacles between your legs move up and down on your pussy. Your panties are ruined between your wet center and the slick touch of theirs. One of them flicks your clit. Your back arches at the feeling. The cold night air hits your aching pussy when the thin fabric is pulled aside. One of them stays around your clit, flicking and rubbing the hard bud. The other one goes straight to your hole.
You want to move. To get closer or farther away, you can't decide. The tendrils don't let you go anyway.
You break the silence with a sudden moan. The limb enters you slowly. It slips into you easily, stretching your walls until you can't take another inch. It fills you up.
"Fuck," you groan.
Your breasts are soaked. The slickness on your skin shines under the dim streetlights. The tentacles play with your flesh, rubbing and pinching your nipples. The pain takes your breath away every now and again until you feel dizzy.
The others between your legs move without pausing even for a second. Your clit throbs, and your walls flutter. Pleasure flares inside your veins, rushing through your body with such force you never felt before. Your lungs burn for air, and your muscles ache as you lay taut, panting.
When you open your eyes, you see the ceiling and the old lamp hanging above you. You want to force your mind to think, to panic, to do something, but your senses are full of pleasure. The only thing you can do is moan and grind against the tentacle inside your pussy. It pounds into you, reaching every spongy spot inside that makes you see stars and beg for more. The sheet under you is soaked with your mixed juices. You can feel it dripping out of your hole.
Fuck, you want to shout, but you can't find your voice. You just shake and tremble in the hold of the limbs keeping you in place on the bed. Every nerve in your body is on edge, and when it snaps in your lower stomach, you can't remember how to breathe. Your climax forces you down and stops you from moving. A thin layer of sweat shines on your bare skin. Heat burns you from the inside, and your pussy flutters and sucks on the tendril inside you. It still moves in and out. It twitches and rubs against your walls. And doesn't stop even when the darkness envelopes you again.
When you wake up the next morning, you need a few minutes to remember where you are. The sun shines through the window, casting an orange hue over the old rug in the middle of the room. As you sit up, your t-shirt falls back over your torso, but your pants are still around your knees.
"What?" You grunt out. The question is barely louder than a whisper. Your hand shakes as you reach down between your legs. Your pussy is wet, sensitive, and swollen. A moan escapes you when your fingertip slides over your slit.
Your dream is still vivid in your mind. You can feel the tentacle in your pussy, using your hole and rubbing your clit. Your center starts to throb with need at the memory. And your breasts. Your other hand grabs one of your tits. Your nipples are still hard peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.
"Hello? Cat?" The sudden noise snaps your head up to the door of your room. The voice comes from the entrance of the house. "It's Delilah." "Hey!" You croak out. You are not even sure if she can hear you. "I will be down in a minute." "Great!" She shouts back. "I will make some coffee, and we can talk about your plans with the house." Your fingers sink into your hole. You are still stretched out. You move in and out of your pussy easily.
Yeah, you think, you need a few nights if you want to decide about your plans.
- Masterlist Grimbrook Masterlist Patreon
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sprout-fics · 11 months
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Werewolf König holding you down -or up- by your hips and just fucking you like an absolute fleshlight while he’s lost in the moon sauce. Send tweet
The monster Konig thot energy has been so strong recently here what-
(Werewolf sex, Mentions of breeding, Size difference, Werewolf dick, Possessiveness, Reader getting her shop wrecked)
“K-König, g-gentle-”
It’s a plea gasped against the darkness, one that echoes softly into the forest, muffled by the sounds of the werewolf above you, bent over you, pressing you into the damp leaves and soft soil. His massive frame above you brackets you in on all sides, one bulging forearm braced well above your head, the other securing your hips flush to his, dragging you back with every brutal, snapping thrust that has him burying himself deep inside you. 
König huffs in your ear, doesn’t respond to your plea. Yet his hips do slow from their vigorous, powerful thrusting to something mildly resembling gentleness. König still doesn’t try to keep himself from drilling the tip of his monstrous shaft against the curve of your womb, rolling his hips in a dizzying onslaught that has fire brimming in your blood. Your fingers curl into the soil in a vain attempt to ground yourself, face pressed nearly flat against the forest floor, ass hauled high in the air, skirt shoved up around your waist where it bunches under his claws. 
Gods, you must look a mess.
Your eyes are glassy with pleasure, with the intoxicating, delicious drag of his girth from your velvety walls, clinging to him with every retreat. The sensation alone is enough to make you shudder, make a consuming heat pool low below your belly. It fissures outwards, tracing along every nerve ending, rendering you boneless against him as he maneuvers you to his whim. With every roll of his hips to meet yours there’s a wrecked rush of air that exhales past your swollen lips, teethed raw by your vain attempts to contain your moans. Drool pools at the corner of your mouth, brow scrunched in suffocating pleasure as the monster above you drives into you with wild abandon.
There’s a whine, broken and pleading that tears at your throat, his warm breath fogging your nape, your shoulder, where he has to restrain himself from seizing your tender flesh between his teeth. Anything to satiate the beast inside of him, to tame the growling, rampant fever that stalks in his bones with the feral urge to claim, to breed.
There’s a pause for a moment as the beast growls into your ear, and the sound alone has you whimper, pliant and submissive under him like a pup. You don’t dare move, knowing König will only press you back where he wants you, cave to his desire to have you how he wants you. You go willingly, surrender to him and the monster coiled within his frame. The moon above you both hangs yellow and full, gleaming like the untamed glint in the eyes of your strange lover. 
König withdraws completely, and the loss of complete and utter fullness is so startling that you whine, try and press back to chase him. Yet the weight across your shoulders vanishes, and instead two massive paws come to grasp below your hips. With his terrifying strength König lifts you, has you fall back against his broad, hairy chest with a shuddering gasp. Your hands fall to grasp the fur on his arms, anchoring yourself even as the world spins around you, the cool mist a balm to your feverish, sweaty skin. 
Yet then you feel the tip of him catch against your stretched entrance, and there’s little warning before Konig lowers you down.
The moan that ruptures from your chest cracks your voice, cunt fluttering helplessly around his girth, stretching you wide around him. It isn’t long before König resumes his previous pace, battering against you as skin meets skin, as every thrust has a cracked cry bubble up inside you. 
“You are mine.” He growls in your ear, teeth skimming dangerously over the exposed flesh of your shoulder, threatening to add to the litany of marks there from his previous claims. You grasp at him, drag him closer as the teeth press down into the skin. “Nobody else.”
“My mate. Mine.”
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