And I just saw The Dark Knight Rises. Surprisingly good, since I thought the previous film couldn't be outdone. It almost got there, perhaps, in my opinion - there might even be a slashy plotbunny or two but not sure which pairing(s) I may be inspired to write.
*MUTTERS DARKLY ABOUT YET ANOTHER BIG LUNK IN A MASK MOVING INTO THE MUSE BOX AND WRECKING THE PLACE OMG NOT AGAIN LOL*
And here's another of my tentacle_fest fics.
Author: Carol Anne Caiafa/sweetcarolanne
Fandom(s): Pirates of the Caribbean/ a touch of H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos
Rating: Soft R
Characters/Pairing(s): Davy Jones/The Kraken, Calypso/Davy Jones/The Kraken
Summary: Two great loves have left their mark on Davy Jones. But only one has remained with him…
Warnings: Implied tentacle sex and threesomes
Word Count: 678
Disclaimer: I own nothing, don’t sue, etc. etc.
A/N: Written for tentacle_fest, inspired by the 2010 prompt “Kraken/Any, any scenario, any character(s).” There are two ‘verses I write for Davy Jones/Kraken, one in which the Kraken is a beloved pet/child subsitute for Jones and Calypso, and another in which she is the lover of one or both of them. This is a fic from the latter ‘verse. And though it’s officially a hermaphrodite, I usually tend to write the Kraken as a girl (since among giant cephalopods in real life, the really big ‘uns tend to be the girls!!!)
He was a man indelibly marked by his two great loves. The crab was a symbol of Calypso, after all, and the tentacles – they could only have come to be part of him because of the Great Old One. They existed due to the curse, to be sure, but there were times when Davy Jones was glad to possess them. Because he could sense the one who was not the mere dumb animal others assumed her to be more acutely through having them. As an ordinary man, he could only communicate with her through dreams, when she chose to share her thoughts with him. Now that he was corrupted in the eyes of mortal men, he could tell what she was feeling at all times. Jones felt her rage, her passion, and the self-same sorrow that had driven him to cut out his own heart. And he knew that this desolation must be far worse for the Kraken than it was for him, for her kind could shed no tears.
At the height of Davy Jones’s love for his now long-lost Calypso, she had introduced him to the mighty Kraken, the being charged with guarding the hidden treasures of the ocean. Jones was fascinated by the Kraken – by the strange beauty he perceived in her, by her ancient and enduring strength and knowledge, and by the bond she shared with the only being who commanded power to match that of her own kind. And the Old One had come to love him as deeply as she did the sea-goddess, sharing with both Jones and Calypso the most intimate of embraces beneath the waves, enfolding and caressing them with her many supple limbs, revealing to them a bliss so intense it could be deemed unspeakable. These were no mere acts of lust, these pleasures – they were sacred rites in the eyes of Davy Jones, and he felt at the time that the three of them would be bound together by a love that would last for all eternity.
Calypso’s desertion had torn not only the heart of Jones, but the very soul of the Kraken. Her inner agony sent her into a fury of wrecking and devouring, which Jones was able to make use of as he turned from ferryman of souls into the Devil of the Sea. And their mutual pain drew Jones and the Kraken inexorably closer, for the Old One was all that remained to the bereft Captain of the Flying Dutchman of love.
The swelling music from the organ, the faint tinkling tones of the music box, spoke to the Kraken of Jones’s sadness through the deepest parts of the ocean. And when the Dutchman sailed beneath the surface of the sea, the Kraken would sometimes swim alongside the now damned vessel, her mighty tentacles aglow with myriad lights and colours, signalling her love for her Captain in ways that only he could understand.
And she satisfied the every craving of Davy Jones, sating the needs he still felt but could not find solace for when he went ashore each decade. For who but the Kraken still saw anthing of worth or beauty in him? Even without a heart, he still felt as one with her, and sought pleasure in the fierce yet tender coilings of her limbs.
Jones would have refused the order of Cutler Beckett to kill the Kraken had she not told him several weeks before that she was already dying. For she shared Jones’s curse, and although she had lived for many centuries, she was no longer immortal. Like many other great tentacled beasts of the ocean, spawning meant death for her, and she had laid her eggs in the safety of an underwater cave.
It had been Davy Jones who had put his mark on her, as inevitably as she had put hers on him. He had given her his seed, and although Davy knew deep down that both of them were doomed, a flicker of hope remained because part of them would live on in the ocean depths forever.