Andre walks in on something he couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams.

What is supposed to be a special night for them takes a seemingly nightmarish turn. (AKA the one where Nicky grows tentacles.)

The naiad moved in shortly after Sid finished his house, that first summer, a week after he filled the pool. He noticed some splashing one morning while he was eating breakfast, and when he went outside to investigate, she popped her head up out of the water, clung to the side of the pool, and hissed at him. “Uh,” Sid said, still holding a slice of toast in one hand. Dew from the grass chilled his bare feet. “Are you—hi?”

This all felt so familiar to Justin. Inspired by it wrecks who it pleases by addandsubtract.

He wouldn’t know how to explain in any way that would make sense. Sometimes a monster fucks me in my dreams, and it leaves bruises. Sometimes I think I like it too much. That would definitely go over well.

“It feels really good,” Leddy says, almost sheepish. They’re all eating lunch at Nick’s house after training, and Leddy still keeps looking around like someone could overhear. “It's a fucking trip, like - tentacle, eggs, but. It's good. I don't know.”

the slow slide of what life was, into something else Inspired by where nothing stays buried by addandsubtract.

In its early stages, this project appears to be achieving the initial goals, and has greatly expanded the availability of samples for study across a broad range of disciplines. Inspired by metamorphosis by ionthesparrow.

Zach has always had a sweet tooth, and Dylan has always been willing to abide.

Every player must spend a little time offering their body to the will of the gods.

No one told Esa he had to give the rookies the Talk (feat. tentacle petting).

As part of the CBA all players who sign a ELC are required to grow tentacles. Nate's not really that sure why, and mostly he just wishes the damn things would behave. Although he does kind of like the ways they misbehave. He doesn't get why Jo has to make such a big deal out of it. (It's basically just tentacle porn)

He feels something touch his foot, his ankle, but when he looks down nothing is there. It’s tadpole season, and in the shallows, around the reeds, they skitter about beneath the surface.

The NHL draft entry class of 2006 are the new best and brightest, and they have to do what the best and brightest have always done: go to an isolated swamp in the Canadian wilderness, let the hockey gods have their way with them, and incubate the next generation of gods in their bellies.

"I'm ready," Sid breathed out. Behind him, Geno gave a soft chuckle, and then leaned down to nuzzle at his neck. "You think you ready."

Connor knows what happens during the offseason.

"I just wanna see it," Noah says.

Nolan knew that - eventually - he’d either have to give up his summer routine or bring Travis in on his secret.

Smut ficlets, mostly Mpreg related, but knowing me it will likely spiral.

It's just a part of the post season.

“Nick,” Marcus whimpers out after a long silence, the two of them just staring at each other. “Fuck. Does it stop hurting?” “I told you to ask me things,” Nick says, and he’s trying to not lose himself right now, but it’s a struggle. “And also like—Jesus, kiddo, don’t wipe the slick on the shared towels after you shower.”

The blankets had pooled around Geno’s waist where he had propped himself up to look at Sid. His pale chest and the remnants of his marks from many months ago were visible under the warm glow of the lamp. They had mostly faded, but Sid could have sworn he was still able to make out the faint outline of rings--some the size of dinner plates--clinging possessively to Geno’s skin.

When it happened, Zhenya didn’t realize that it meant anything. Now, he had the distinct impression that he and Sid were in a fight — but could you even be in a fight with a coworker that you sometimes had sex with? Originally written for day 17 of Kinkuary 2022 (tentacles), but definitely not posted in time.

It starts with Sasha's neighbour worrying about the stupid fish. When Sasha finds out what's behind that, it ends so, so much worse for him... Or: Putting "ovi" into "oviposition" ;) (~8k of Ovi getting tentacle dicked down + oviposition, the fic's basically in the tags, and what is advertised there is exactly the fic, you do the math)

“You don’t get it, it’s…” Gabe bites his lip. “You probably wouldn’t believe me.” Really, what does Gabe expect Tyson to say to that? Oh, I see, you’re dealing with something very strange and possibly monstrous, sounds exciting, I’ll leave you to it? “Try me,” he says, crossing his arms.

He’d been trying for ages not to go down this route, to ignore his instincts telling him this one, this one is perfect

“....huh.” “That’s - that’s all you have to say?” Auston mutters, self-consciously closing his legs.

The floor is cold beneath Mitch’s feet. He wonders - not for the first time - what the hell he’s doing here.

Shadows are falling and I've been here all day It's too hot to sleep and time is running away Feel like my soul has turned into steel I've still got the scars that the sun didn't let me heal There's not even room enough to be anywhere It's not dark yet, but it's getting there - Bob Dylan

Carter Hart and Cale Makar end up on The Seattle Kraken. The Demon that controls the Kraken wants a body to possess and it's not the only thing it wants.

When they drain the rink at the end of the season, he tells someone he's folding to superstition and he pays them for several buckets of the water and buys a few of those ice filled pucks they sell at the store. He purchases some Kraken shaped water bottles and fills them with his water. He's not sure why he's going this far, this fucked up, but he also doesn’t really care. He played well and the team actually did okay for their first season while trying to get their legs under them as a unit.

Carter had heard rumours about the nature of the hockey gods; more than that, he'd had dreams. As long as he could remember he'd had them - hazy, fading with the morning light - and then, once he'd been drafted by the Flyers, the dreams had become more frequent - the gods too alien for him to see them clearly but always a sense of being touched all over, held tight, and above all surrounded by orange.