#Opal's not named “Opal�� for no reason :>

[goldensunset]

show us ur plushies!! what are their names :D

k! i have a few other stuffed animals but these are the actual like from-media plushies as opposed to generic animals

^ these are the pokémon oshawott and umbreon- mine specifically are named opal and evelyn! beloveds. they would make an entertaining duo i think

here we have the pokémon quaxly (in the game mine was named ralis but idk if i consider this plushy *him* like i do with opal and evelyn), marina from splatoon (i wanted a gift for riya but couldn’t bear to buy one and not the other so she got pearl and i got marina. hearts connected across a distance) (also she cameos in my first joshua plushy abuse video i threw her at him. these two are sitting by each other but they would not like each other), and lastly joshua from twewy (i have filmed multiple shots of me abusing him in effigy)

[thsc-scattered-stars]

(ooc)

Are they related to Opal?

Nope! None of my thsc oc's so far are related to each other.

[bluejaybytes]

@snowshinobi Hiiiii :3 I'm responding to your tags on a new post and not the original since the original was already somewhat lengthy, and I plan on being LONG and RAMBLY, but I have sooo many thoughts on what you said and I'm going to say them. Also my browser crashed TWICE (TWO TIMES. 2) when trying to write this post so I'm really fighting for my life out here to get my silly little OC posts done. Also it's under the cut because it's looooong as hell LMAO

Firstly, you're so nice to me forever <3 Secondly, I think you've basically hit the nail on the head. The majority of the issues Maggie has coming back from death and her 9 years gone are really tied almost exclusively to her close family, because she... never really had anyone else. While in-universe it's only 9 years, realistically the jump in technology and culture is around ~20-30 years (Maggie died in the 90s/early 2000s essentially, and wakes up in a just barely futuristic city), but... the most jarring thing to her in terms of what she missed out on is just. Flipphones are no longer popular. Other than her family, she's only close with one other person... who just so happens to be a ghost, and therefore both 1. Wouldn't change much over the timespan due to how long she's been a ghost and 2. Unlike her family, was aware that something happened, since she could see the ghost-of-a-ghost Maggie left behind (The ghosts name is Opal, she positions herself as a sort of "guardian angel" figure, though she's not actually, and serves as just another parental figure for Maggie while also getting after the ghosts that constantly harass her to pass on messages to the living). Maggie has no real relationships outside of her family, and while her relationships with her family are massively impacted by her unknowing death, other than that... the timeskip itself doesn't weigh on her because she had no one regardless. Her struggle to adjust to everything thats happened would've happened regardless of the timeskip for her, because she was such an isolated shut-in that it's the same whether it happened the next day, or nearly a full decade later

So another very interesting thing is that you've actually completely seen where I was going with everything, in spite of everything I said being very surface level and not actually delving into the plot at all. I completely skimmed over Jenna (She's very important to the plot, but she's by in large a regular person as opposed to Maggie's... everything), but for some additional context, Jenna has a horrendously shitty homelife, so her moving in with Maggie is both a gradual process (It goes from spending time there, to spending nights, to eventually just never going back home and moving in fully), and also serves as an escape for her. Part of that is also, so vitally, the food aspect. For some additional additional context, souls essentially serve as a persons lifeforce, practically every bodily function is improved by a soul that's stronger, though the "strength" of a soul is essentially entirely random, and not dependent on the individuals actions of any kind. Maggie had a generally weird soul before (Seeing ghosts inherently means she has to have something going on with her soul), but when she wakes up after her death, her soul is now even weirder, and part of that is that it essentially lets her get away with bad habits she absolutely should be seeing more consequences for. She barely eats, and when she does, it's basically exclusively crackers and whatever other safe foods she has around the house, because actually making food is a level of care and effort she just... doesn't give to herself in the slightest. Part of Jenna staying with her is that Jenna, without really discussing it, entirely takes up the mantle of caretaker of the apartment, with the biggest task being food prep, Jenna sees Maggie's unwillingness to take care of herself and silently steps up and starts making her actual meals so she's eating properly.

The problem is is that this also kinda... just straight up sucks? Jenna doesn't think much of it, it's something that needed to be done so she's doing it, she wants Maggie to be well fed even if she won't do it herself, and she's already been responsible for making all of her own meals for years prior anyways, so it's just another thing she does. Except that's shitty! Maggie's seen firsthand how terrible her homelife is, and it really weighs on her how even in her escape from that, Jenna's still being put in a position where she feels like she must care for her or else she just won't eat properly. So food is such a massively important thing to both of them, it's this symbol of love for both of them, it's love on the part of Jenna, for stepping in and taking care of Maggie when she can't do it herself, and it's love on the part of Maggie, for realizing how her own bad habits impact the people she cares about and wanting to lift that weight by taking care of herself better. It's also very vital for Maggie because she just... doesn't... have hobbies. Learning how to cook becomes really her only hobby and she puts all of her love and care into it, because for the first time in a long while she's actually passionate about something! ...Unfortunately she also is very very bad at it. She's inventing new dishes like "Burnt Salad" and "Please Help I Fucked Up Kraft Mac N Cheese" and still having to have Jenna come in and help her. But it's the thought that counts, and it'll only be a matter of time before she can make something vaguely edible.

And finally, the stuff about names! I didn't post it here, but while idly talking about her in a Discord server I'm in, I definitely think that had I made Maggie like even a few months later than I would've done she would've been nonbinary. As it stands right now though, I'm saying she's probably some form of genderweird but too busy trying not to die to think about it <3 Growing up knowing that ghosts are real and routinely being shut down by authority figures in her life about it has made her very aware of how bullshit a lot of things are and how the people who claim to be knowledgeable tend to not know what they're talking about (Beyond just the "people don't think ghosts are real", she's also got ghosts willing to tell her when people are lying because they've got nothing better to do than just gossip) , so if she spent even just a moment thinking about gender as a social construct she'd instantly recognize that and probably take up some form of genderweird label, but as it stands she's just too stressed with Being The Protagonist to think about that

Now, the thing with Margaret. I'm not even going to lie to you, I think you made a better connection to how a name connects with community in terms of the narrative themes than I did. The thing with Margaret denying the name "Maggie" existed for two reasons, the in-universe explanation is that, with the little scrap of soul Margaret has leftover from Maggie, it's essentially working overtime just to keep her vitals working, it can't dedicate time and energy to making her an individual with preferences and a personality, so part of that is that she doesn't respond to "Maggie" because ultimately, that is not her name. Her name is Margaret and she's not going to respond to "Maggie" because "Maggie" isn't her name. Of course, out of universe the reasoning is that I wanted an easy way to distinguish between Maggie as she is the protagonist, and the version of her that lived in the years she was gone, so different names makes the most sense.

I think your connection to how name relates to community genuinely works on a level I hadn't fully pieced together myself yet and I really love that because I think that absolutely works with everything. One of the main conflicts of the plot is how Maggie is entirely disconnected from her family thanks to the years she was gone, with Margaret having no priorities beyond "survive", she basically never spoke with her parents or brother for years. While her family tried to reach out to her repeatedly (Especially given that, while they're unaware the truth of what happened the night Maggie was murdered, they do know something happened, and they believe that whatever it was severely traumatized her, and that's where the sudden and drastic shift in personality came from), there's a point where they just... gave up. She wasn't trying to talk with them or contact them in the slightest, so around a year or two after Margaret moved out, her parents gave up on her. Her brother would still be there a bit, but he also didn't really... try... anymore.

When Maggie wakes up, she tries to call her parents... and they don't pick up. They'd grown resentful over the years, and now that Maggie wants to talk to them, they don't forgive her for the years of not speaking to them, and aren't interested in whatever she has to say after nearly a decade of trying to reconnect with her and being met with nothing. It's her insistence that she wants to be called Maggie that actually gets her brother to realize she's telling the truth and that something happened. She shows up at his door, already something that Margaret wouldn't have done, and that combined with her being visibly upset when he calls her Margaret and tells him that's not her and that she's Maggie, it signals to him that whatever's going on is real (...though he would've figured this out eventually, given that she also literally 17 again and not in her mid-20s, and has a giant glowing stab wound in her chest). I think it works absolutely perfectly as being a symbol of community, her disconnect from her community is what led to her being called Margaret, and her desperation to be returned to that community is when she's Maggie again. So uh. Congrats on getting the themes of my OCs better than I did <3

And uhhhh closing thoughts! I honestly did still skim over the majority of the plot (Literally never even mentioned Eli or what's going on with her stab wound </3), but I think you reeeeally hit the nail on the head with everything I'm kinda getting at with these OCs, which is... frankly wild given how little main plot I actually got at. Basically everything I mentioned in my original post was the setup, not the main plot. But waaaaugh thank you for being so niceys to me and also giving me another excuse to ramble endlessly <3

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 4, day 4, I almost forgot to do art lol oops

Just another pose sketch for Mr. Nameless Sparrow Angel

[sincerely-sofie]

Many thanks for the tag @asimplearchivist! The post was getting a bit long, so I cleared the reblogs.

coffee or tea (hot chocolate for me!) | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold (brass) | pop or alternative (I just like what I like, haha!) | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony (I'm scared of heights lol) | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris (Homebody) | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party

some tags of my own: @oblonger, @aria-the-derg, @battyaalllday, @onlyhereforghosttrick, @billycorn, and @stingraywipe along with all you shy guys who would love to join in!

Thanks for the tag @steven-grants-world (we won't go into how giddy I get when I'm tagged in something!)

This or that…

coffee or tea (neither!) | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party

no pressure tags: @marieziffer, @jewelsrulz, @diplomaticprincess, @wrenwithapen, @witch-oftheflowers, @lunar-ghoulie, @coneygoil, and anyone else who wants to because I hate forgetting people! Do it!

[moonmeg]

The basket she carried in the crook of her arm dropped to the grass. She stood there. Paralyzed by the sight.

All the soil surrounding a hole in the earth where an empty coffin, marked by its years under the earth, faced her. The glass vase with a candle inside she had put up was nothing but shambles and crumbs. The flowers that had grown over the time destroyed.

The tombstone was tilted. Everything was ruined. And she couldn't do or say anything. Time had frozen.

Her body began to shiver. Every breath became heavier the longer she stared at what once was her husband's grave. Not even Robyn's worried "Mama?" could bring her to move her eyes from the chaos.

It did snap her back to the moment and she knew she couldn't keep Robyn here.

"Go back with Opal, sprout. I'll be right behind you.", she said, her voice just above a whisper.

"Mama-"

"GO. BACK.", Catherine snapped.

Robyn flinched upon the tone his mother used. He was only a child but he was not blind. His father's dug up grave and empty coffin horrified him just as much as he could see it horrified his mother. He stared at her, hoping she'd turn her face to look at him but Catherine was like a lifeless statue. The only sign of movement was her shoulders and hands tensing and the the tears pricking at her eyes.

Opal began pulling at Robyn's loose strand of hair to get him to move away from this view of horror.

He obliged but only hesitantly. He didn't want to leave his mother's side. Not in a moment like this. He hated seeing Mama sad and in pain. Not that Catherine let Robyn see her vulnerable side often. She puts on smiles for him and hopes he will not notice how broken she actually is. But Robyn knew. He knew Mama was just playing a game of pretend but he didn't want her to continue it. He didn't want her to bury her emotions in front of him, yet he couldn't let her know that.

"Opal, wait!", he called out for the dove, "we can't go too far ahead."

Robyn turns to look at his mother, who still stood at the same place in front of the grave.

"We should wait for Mama."

Catherine's legs couldn't hold her any longer at this point. She broke down to the soil and let her emotions flow. She yelped in the agony of having lost Caleb a second time. Tears streamed down her face as her thoughts raced. She had finally learned to live with her beloved gone and she had finally moved on. The stinging pain she used to feel when thinking of Caleb and the imagery of his final moments had been something she healed from. Now that healing progress was crumbled into nothing. The terrible pain and heartache, the pictures.... everything was back.

Catherine clenched the grass beneath her in anger as she realized just who is responsible for her misery.

There was no other person who possibly would have a motive. No other person would ruin and take away a place so sacred to her AND to Robyn...

Robyn...

This place was the only place he felt close to his father. It was the only place where he felt a connection to Caleb.

The fact that it was taken from him, for most probably selfish reasons, only made her angrier.

She wasn't one to curse people...

She gazed up at the tilted tombstone with her husband's name on it...

She wasn't one to curse people but this was the last straw.

Philip would pay for this. Whether he could or not. He will.

[the-littlest-goblin]

Something that's stuck with me from the Arch Heart's appearance, which highlights a major underpinning of my frustration with C3, is the "Big Doors don't work" comment.

In what way exactly is the Big Door not working?

The purpose of the Divine Gate was to mitigate the gods exerting undo influence on mortal affairs, and according to everything we've seen in all 3 campaigns up to this point, this was a demonstrable success: the Calamity ended, and despite multiple potentially world-ending catastrophes cropping up since then, it has been up to mortals to deal with these threats. They've often done so with divine aid, but I fail to see how that's overreaching on the gods' part when accepting said aid is still dependent on mortal choice.*

Part of the Arch Heart's reasoning for wanting to "let go" is, as I understand it, because mortals continue to rebel against and resent the gods even from behind the Divine Gate. Which, yes they do, but like... the customer is not always right. Not every complaint needs to be catered to, especially the ones based on faulty postulates.

I get that this is not how the Arch Heart is thinking about it; my issue is not with the roleplay of individual characters, but with the narrative whole and the sheer amount of time it has spent, both in the text and extra-textual framing, sincerely entertaining the base axioms of an argument that is so poorly constructed Ludinus wouldn't make it past round one of a middle school debate club. None of the anti-god arguments have given any tangible evidence for the claim that the gods are an oppressive force or that Exandria would be better off without them that is not either:

A. Aeor, which was pre-Divine Gate and in fact the catalyst for the gods to pull back on interfering with mortal affairs, and therefore not all that pertinent to the current status quo;

or B. an event or action that, while it may be done in the name of the gods (e.g. Hearthdell) or directly encouraged by a god (e.g. Opal and the Crown) is nonetheless still contingent on mortals making choices, and therefore not a convincing argument that the gods are infringing on free will,** nor that removing them would prevent these types of situations.

An ongoing motif of C3 has been showing perspectives which challenge the prevailing narrative about the gods as established within Exandria's lore to this point. As a story enjoyer, I normally would eat up this sort of reversal—I love a metatextual play with in-universe narratives. But to do so convincingly requires more substance than a handful of characters going 'Trust me bro.' I'm going to need to see some peer-reviewed studies on Exandrian metaphysics before I take Ludinus "17 ulterior motives stacked in a wizard robe" Da'leth's word over what I've seen with my own brain over thousands of hours worth of game play.

If the message of the narrative is telling me to question the diegetic information it presents, then I am going to do just that. So far every argument that the gods do more harm than good for Exandria has been rampant citationless behavior. I find it baffling and borderline infuriating that we're approaching the denouement of this campaign and I still have yet to see evidence that the core conflict of the story, the central debate which has plagued every in-game and fandom discussion for a year now, is based on an actual problem. Like, at all.

*If you think Vax did not exercise his own agency and free will in every step of becoming Champion of the Matron, you are simply wrong.

**For real, we know there are magical means of straight-up mind control in Exandria. Like, you don't have to approve of it, but the gods engaging in standard issue verbal manipulation does not constitute a violation of free will, and it certainly doesn't make the argument that they are so immeasurably more powerful than mortals that they should not be allowed to exist.

[keuwibloom]

Its been a while since ive posted anything Parasynth, so I thought id make these polaroid-inspired drawings to make up for it!

As an added bonus-- I have nicknames for the guys! I actually made these a while back, but I figured id post them here for organization purposes, and so its easier to differentiate when talking about Parasynth.

The nicknames + my reasons behind choosing them listed below the cut!

Blue "Polaris" - Also known as the "north star", polaris is the only stationary star in the night sky, commonly used as a compass for navigation. A star that symbolizes stability when you've lost your way.

Dream "Apollo/Pol" - Named after the Greek god of the sun, music, medicine, and archery, twin brother to Artemis. Went with this because of the twin thing and sun symbolism, plus the healer and archery association.

Ink "Opal" - Opal is a gemstone that shines with rainbow colors. A true opal gem also has a base color of white, which fits with Ink's whole thing. Ink also calls others "pal" so I thought the name would be a nice reference to that.

Axe "Condor/Kon" - A large scavenger bird, related to the vulture. One species of it is the largest flying bird in the world. A condor's head also has no feathers, which kinda reminds me of Axe's skull.

Nightmare "Artemis/Arte" - Named after the Greek goddess of the moon and the hunt, twin sister to Apollo. Chosen for the same reasoning as Dream's nickname. Artemis is also the goddess of wilderness and wild animals, which fits with the gang (in a "they're a group and they are dangerous" way).

Killer "Shrike" - A cute little passerine bird that is known to impale its prey on sharp things, usually thorns. Shrikes are also known as "butcher birds". I think it fits with his vibe, plus shrikes have these black markings over their eyes that remind me of Killer's eyes.

Dust "Owl" - A nocturnal bird that has eerily silent flight and large eyes that reflect light in the dark so it looks like its glowing. I was in between this one and "Kestrel", but I feel like Owl fits Dust's general vibe better.

Cross "Cypress/Cy" - A tree that symbolizes longevity and endurance, but also mourning. It's also associated with protection and strength. I was looking for stuff that was associated with the goddess Artemis and the cypress tree was one (also the gang as birds and Cross as the tree they rest on).

Error "Oregano" - An herb that has a very strong bitter/peppery taste and smell. It's known to have antiviral properties and other benefits, but it is best used in small amounts. I also chose this name to parallel Opal (rock VS plant).

Swap/Blue belongs to the AU Community

Dream and Nightmare belong to Jokublog

Ink belongs to Comyet

Horror/Axe belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios

Killer belongs to Rahafwabas

Dust belongs to Ask-Dusttale

Cross belongs to Jakei95

Error belongs to Loverofpiggies

[physalian]

25 Cheap and Easy Tricks for Naming Your Characters

Because I hate coming up with new names. I hate it. I write fantasy. Why do I do this to myself?

The credits of your favorite movies, video games, and TV shows

Scroll through your old yearbook

Pick a theme and go with it a la Sirius, Regulus, Arcturus or Pearl, Opal, Amethyst

Any baby names list, pick a year

Obscure mythological figures, full name or nickname derivative

Obscure or famous historical figures, like philosophers, politicians, artists, and reformers

Unabashedly Latin-based

Unabashedly literal a la every character in My Hero Academia

Biblical figures

Scrabble/Bananagram word salad until you get to something legible (my personal favorite, highly recommend)

Pick a regional dialect, go ham, a la “Mc-” or “Mac-” prefixes, “-sky” or “ski” suffixes (just make sure you aren’t being racist)

Rare colors, especially if they’re themed after said colors or color associations

The She-Ra/Thundercats method

The Transformers method

Pick two names. Create a ship name. Voila

Pick a letter and go with it, especially if they’re siblings or all related, like Jane, Jill, Julie, Jackie, Janet

Old magazines, newspapers, and local news, both author and subject

Go to library/bookstore, pick a random book off the shelves and scavenge their names

Wander Google Maps, steal the names of roads and towns

Dusty phone book/encyclopedia for address and authors

Your own ancestors

Name them after their hometown/region a la “da Vinci”

Name them after their most infamous act or notable trait a la “Frederick Hamhands”

Pick a real name. Make up a nickname and have them go by that

Let them pick their own name so it’s weird/quirky/unique/boring/cringey, but with reason 

[dangerous-yam-fries]

Male Naga x GN!Reader - NSFW

Asks and Suggestions are open and encouraged!

Warnings: prehensile dicks, hemipenes (two dicks), kidnapping, MILD drowning???, stalking, envenomation, double dick handjob, MINORS LEAVE GET OUT OF HERE!

You had been researching a multitude of lower classifications from the Chordata phylum, eventually becoming a member of a research term for the study of Serpentes-Homo Sapiens. Snake people, Naga, whatever you want to call them. Even if you didn’t find the famed Naga, you were excited to be in a different country surrounded by foreign life, so you bore with the bugs and humidity.

You were wading through a stagnant, mucky pond in your thick plastic overalls, while sweat slicked the inside of your clothes, mud and pond scum on the outside.

At first, you were simply gathering water samples, but that quickly turned into more of a fun, exploratory session as you walked in the water. It came up to about the middle of your thigh, so it wasn’t too deep, just a little mushy under your feet. You made sure to wear water shoes, they fit comfortably, but you could still feel rocks and pebbles poking the pads of your feet as you walked slowly into the middle of the pond.

“Well, aren’t you cool…” You mumble as you inspect a larva of a diving beetle. It looks like a grub with thin back plates and stringy antenna as the water around it clears up. It quickly retreats into the depths of the pond, leaving you to wander through the water. You decided to catalog the different fauna and flora, soon getting distracted and losing track of time.

You were so enthralled with the beauty and complexity of the biome that you didn’t notice you were being watched. Stalked, even.

Hyacinth laid eyes on the first day you landed at the camp, and for some reason, he simply couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were captivating, the way your sweat glistened on your skin like morning dew, how your face flushed under the sun, making your blemishes, scars, and freckles look like stars.

But he could never look into your eyes, for you’d surely notice him then. For weeks, he was content to merely watch your fluttering figure, but he soon hungered for more. So he waited until you were utterly alone, too far away from your fellow researchers for them to help you. And here you were, far away from any human life, and utterly distracted, sneaking up on you was far too easy.

You were suddenly pulled under the water, it wasn’t deep, but it was certainly enough to drown in. You held your breath as you kicked and struggled against whatever was trying to kill you, but it was no use. Opening your mouth, you felt water fill your throat and spill into your lungs, your eyes stung and your body felt like it was on fire. The muddy water soon turned black as you lost all consciousness.

Hyacinth was absolutely smitten with you by the time he made it to his home, he relished in forcing the water out of your lungs, it only gave him an excuse to kiss you. After multiple hours entrapped in Hyacinth’s warm tail you coughed and sputtered awake.

“Mmm pet~” Your body jolted awake at the sound of a person’s voice, your heart beating rapidly when you lay your eyes upon the owner of said voice. You choke when you see him. A real, live Naga, the very creature you had been searching so hard for.

“Awake, are we?” He smiles and you see a flicker of his tongue dart out of his mouth and caress your cheek. “Don’t be scared, pet. I won’t hurt you.” His face is right up against yours, and you find yourself staring straight into his eyes.

“Beautiful…” You hadn’t even remembered the events that transpired prior to your fainting as you swooned at his eyes. The scleras were reminiscent of opal, with purples, pinks and greens wrinkled together in the shiny orb. His pupils were two black slits as sharp as glass.

He found himself blushing at that, you thought he was beautiful! A joyous pure erupts in his throat as his forked tongue flicks over your lips. “W-who are you? Uh… I’m (Name), I, I think?” You mumbled, suddenly out of breath with your mind going a mile a minute.

“Hyacinth…” His tongue licked at your lips, his eyes not breaking from yours, even when they started to water. Your eyes were even more dazzling than he thought they would be. They looked as bright as the sun, practically glowing, or maybe that was the light of the fire… “I am Hyacinth”

“Hyacinth… like the flower?” You inquired, your breath hitching for no apparent reason. Your mind didn’t even register the intimate proximity, or his tongue gliding upon your lips, occasionally licking at your tongue and probing into your mouth.

“Like the flower.” He smiled, he was so happy to have you here, in his arms, wrapped in his tail, and so very receptive to his… courting. You glanced around you, breaking eye contact with Hyacinth to gaze at his tail. It was so purple, with scales like fuchsia petals, shining in the fires light like fireflies. He really looked so beautiful. His skin was a handsome tan, painted with freckles and scars and burns, like cartography on a worn map.

“M-may I, touch you?” You hesitantly reached your dominant hand out, just barely ghosting over his shoulder.

He trilled at this, taking your hands and placing them on his chest, cupping his sinewy breasts. “You may touch anywhere you please, (Name).” He drawled out your name, savoring the sound on his tongue.

You shivered, and squeezed his chest slightly, blushing at the way he flushed underneath you. Your hands slid to his shoulders, rubbing the freckles and scars on the rosy brown skin, your heart was pounding out of your rib cage by the time you laid your hands on his tail.

Your breath hitched, eyes widening when you touch the very end of his tail, the coil of scales coming to a bumpy end. “You’re so beautiful… Hyacinth.” You gulped, and caressed the tip, rubbing the scaly tail with your fingers, stopping when you heard him let out a strangled sound. “Is everything alright?” You ask worriedly, but still not letting go of his tail.

Hyacinth’s breath is labored, his eyes narrow, but not in malice. “J-just a little, sensitive there, pet.” He still manages a smile, glistening fangs shining in his mouth. Your face goes red as you become aware of a wet mess beneath you, two pinkish-purple tips peeking out of a glistening genital slit.

“O-oh, I’m, I’m sorry.” You gulp, and after a moment of self reflection, your mind hazy with scientific desire, you ask a confirming question. “I, I may touch, anywhere, right?” You practically drool at the sight of his twitching sex as your fingers run along his slit and spread it, letting loose his two cocks.

“Not waiting for an answer…” He said, less of a question and more of an observation as your fingers glide along the length of his dick, tracing the lithe veins as they curl around your hand. “They’re prehensile…” He gets bolder, rocking into your touch, his hands making quick work of your own clothes.

You don’t say anything as you play with them, gripping the bases and letting them wrap around your hands, thrusting in and out of them. Hyacinth moans and shudders just inches away from your face, muttering lewd phrases and dirty words, giving you quite a show.

“A little tighter, pet~ Your hands are so warm, I’m sure your insides are warmer~” He twitches and sighs as your hands clasp around his dicks even tighter, becoming slippery with slick and precum as you pump your hands slightly. “So, so good. More, faster, pet, please.” His voice is broken up and shaky, like music to your ears as he pants and moans. You comply, rubbing your hands on his prehensile cocks even faster, tighter, still pumping his lengths even after he paints your hands with cum.

“Ahhh~ p-pet, too much, slow down for me!” You try to stop but your hands move on their own, eyes tearing up with his as his nails dig into your bare waist. You stop your hands, not realizing how close he is to another orgasm as he bites into your shoulder, gasps racking his body.

Your tears fall as your eyes roll back, your body being pumped full of his venom. Choking, you can’t breathe, your throat seizing up, noticing this, Hyacinth kisses you roughly, forcing air down your lungs. Your brain activity is slowed, so you don’t even notice your body being lifted above his cocks and genital slit.

“It won’t hurt, pet.” He takes his lips away from yours, but only for a second as he continues helping you to breathe. Your hole tingles as he rubs his dicks against it, lathering it with his cum and slick before plunging a prehensile penis inside. “You are warm, pet~” His lips meet yours again, resuming the kiss.

One of his dicks thrusts in and out of your hole, curling against your most pleasurable parts, flaring at the entrance, giving your hole a good stretch. He drools and slobbers on your lips, his saliva dripping down your chin and his as he thrusts even faster. His other cock moves to caress your sex, rubbing it up and down and getting it wet with cum. It curls around your tip, squeezing and rubbing it mercilessly.

His cocks bully your sex, your body shaking from overstimulation even with the effects of his venom. It feels like you’re on fire, but unlike in the pond, it’s a pleasant burn, one that lights the fires of passion and lust as your insides constrict and tighten around his prehensile dick.

Your insides squeeze around him, your sex twitching against his dick as he ruts against it even faster, determined to deliver you a mind-shattering orgasm. You cum hard, getting the both of you even wetter, his dick squelching its cum inside of you as he reaches his own orgasm. He moans into your mouth, eyes locked with yours as he continues to hump your insides, eating up your sobs as overstimulation racks your brain.

You’ll have plenty of time to study him, especially his mating process. After all, the first session can take up to 75 hours. And he would make sure your hole milked him dry, daring not to spill a drop.

[ryuzakemo128]

Goodnight & Sweet dreams

Pairing: Poly 141 x Australian Female Reader

Content Warnings: Cheating, Affair, remarriage, no mention of y/n or the variation of 'you', Possible prequel?, third person written. Angst.

Words: 1707

Masterlist

Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Credit for the Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Note: You have many code names. Many. Many of them are used by certain people. Like the devil. You have many names. Boomer, Opal, Crimson and Emerald are the main ones used to refer to you. As your real name is covered in layers of black ink and confidential files restricted to the higher-ups.

Note 2: The only defining factors, I will give you, are the following: Codename. As labelled. Height. You are not small. You are rather tall, at least six feet and four inches. Roughly the same height as Ghost. Your voice is also quite deep, for reasons you can come up with yourself. As no answer is wrong or right. Might make an oc version sometime.

Note 3: I suggest listening to Moon Shadow by Cat Stevens when you read this.

Summary: “I don’t see you the same way anymore. I don’t respect cheaters, no matter the reason you might have had. You ruined this home by yourself.”

Boomer grew up on a farm in the Australian outback. Her father is an Australian Commando. Thus, she didn't see him nearly as often as her mother, who happened to cheat on her father while he was deployed. Her excuse was the lack of affection making her cheat with his older brother, Marcus. The CEO of a tech company he started up in America.

“I don’t see you the same way anymore. I don’t respect cheaters, no matter the reason you might have had. You ruined this home by yourself.” Boomer told her mother once her father came back on leave. He was immediately told by her.

Boomer decided to stay with her father, even though the divorce, and she hadn’t spoken to her mother since the end of the divorce had taken place. Her father, even though heart broken about the affair and the eventual divorce, he tried to keep a positive attitude through it all. Boomer saw right through quite often.

Pulling things apart, fixing them regardless of what it was, became Boomer's silent mantra as she grew older, mirroring the tireless work ethic of her father.

The farm grew quiet without her mother's laughter, but it grew stronger with the echoes of her father's footsteps and the occasional clank of tools as he taught her the ropes of being a true Australian commando.

She took to the training like a natural, her determination fuelled by the anger she felt towards her mother's betrayal. Each push-up, each mile run, every target hit, was a declaration of her loyalty to the truth and the man who never abandoned her.

“I don’t want to become my mother and cheat on any potential spouse, man or woman.” Boomer, adamant in wanting to be reliable regardless of any circumstances she would encounter in her life.

Her father often came home to small things fixed like the broken tractor, a leaky sink, and even a few upgrades to the farm’s security system.

Even reading into carpentry DIY projects like the bee aviaries she built from scratch. Her dedication to self-reliance grew, and so did her skills, a silent promise to never become what her mother was.

Her aunt, Alyssa, came over a few times a month to keep the house from going up in flames. Boomer showed her all the DIY things she made, often wanting to rescue bees from abandoned areas, unwanted areas and sometimes even from people’s backyards.

Her father had a slight smirk on his face when she brought home her first queen bee, a rare breed she had found in the forest. He knew she had her mother’s charm and beauty, but he was proud she had chosen a path of honesty and reliability.

Alyssa’s work as a beekeeper rehoming bees from areas where they aren’t wanted became an unexpected bonding point for Boomer. Her aunt’s gentle nature with the creatures and the way she spoke about them as if they were soldiers in a grand army, protecting the future of the planet, sparked a fascination within Boomer.

She began to see the world through a different lens, one that valued every creature’s contribution, and the delicate balance that needed to be maintained.

Her father noticed the change in her, the way she had found peace in the buzzing of the bees and the precision of their movements. He knew this was something more than just a phase; it was a piece of her soul finding its place in the world.

The farm grew not only in crops but in life as well, with more bees thriving under Alyssa’s guidance and Boomer’s care. It became a sanctuary for those who needed a second chance, a reflection of Boomer’s own spirit.

Boomer took the bee’s safety and health seriously, researching how to take care of the bees better and what ways to keep them happy as well as healthy.

Setting up a mini lab to study the bees in their natural environment without disrupting them became a weekend routine. The bees had become more than just a hobby; they were her silent companions, a symbol of her resilience and unyielding spirit.

One thing her father noticed was the ebony wood varnish on the bee aviaries, making them look more like a piece of art rather than a simple shelter for bees.

He knew his daughter had a creative side to her, but he never knew it would be expressed in such a way. Her creations weren’t just functional, but aesthetically pleasing, a reflection of her respect and admiration for the bees.

Each aviary was named after a character from an X-Men comic she loved as a child. She had found solace in their stories, in their struggle for acceptance and fighting for what they believed in despite their differences.

Her favourite, the Wolverine aviary, housed the most aggressive bees, which she found quite fitting. Each name was engraved in a small brass plate at the entrance, adding a touch of whimsy to the otherwise utilitarian structures.

She would then sell the honey on the farmer’s market for her pocket money. As she grew older, her love for bees remained as she got more invested in the military. She enlisted at seventeen, she told her father she wanted to because it felt like it was the right thing to do.

“I’ll give it my best shot, I promise.” Boomer pinky swore, her eyes gleaming with excitement and determination as she held her father’s hand tightly. His calloused grip returned the gesture, a silent promise of support and belief in her.

Her expertise in heavy weaponry like heavy machine guns, grenade launchers, rocket launchers, miniguns, anti-material rifles, and even the rare use of the Predator drone grew from her time in the military. She had always been a good shot, something her father had noticed when they used to go hunting together back in the outback.

Boomer dove into electrical engineering, electrical technology, nanotechnology and even robotics. During her military training, it was an eye-opener to an even bigger world. A world she is more than a little keen on learning more about day by day. Even reading more about in her downtime.

Growing up, her pets were bees and the blue Merle Shetland Sheepdogs that her aunt brought with her, which grew into a small pack over the years. They became her loyal companions, protecting the farm and the bees from predators. The dogs had an uncanny sense of when Boomer was upset, and they’d often sit by her side, offering comfort with their soft, warm presence. Her father named her first dog, Blue, after her mother’s favourite colour, hoping it would bring some peace to their lives.

Other than beekeeping and pulling things apart. The extracurricular activities she got into before she turned seventeen were gymnastics and ice skating.

Gymnastics was a way to keep her body in tip-top shape, she was always a fast learner and had a knack for acrobatics. The strength and flexibility it gave her were surprisingly useful in the field, allowing her to navigate tight spaces and pull off stunts most wouldn’t dare.

Ice skating, on the other hand, was her escape. The cool rush of the wind against her face, the sound of the blades cutting through the ice, it was her silent battlefield where she faced and conquered her inner demons, pushing herself beyond her limits.

Boomer, at sixteen years old, rescued a nine-month-old blind cat on the way home from school once, her father saw her with it. She was determined to care for the blind cat and named her, Shadow. The cat's full name is Moon Shadow. Naming it after the song Moon Shadow by Cat Stevens.

One of her father’s favourite songs. Thus, it became one of her many favourite songs as well. A classic ‘60s song amongst the many she would listen to on repeat. She listened to it when she got ready for bed, even after he passed months after her 24th birthday.

Her father’s death was a blow she never saw coming. A heart attack in his sleep, the doctor’s said it was peaceful. But for Boomer, it was anything but peaceful.

Her entire world had crumbled around her. The one constant, the one person she had always relied on, was no longer there.

It took a while to mourn her father, taking on many short term to keep herself from going off into the deep end. A distraction to keep her moving, both in mind, body and soul.

The farm remained her sanctuary, but now it was filled with the echoes of her father’s laughter, her aunt’s gentle guidance, and the ever-present hum of the bees.

She continued her military service with renewed vigor, channeling her grief into her work, seeking solace in the structure and discipline it provided.

Most of her dead dad jokes were made to help her cope with her father’s death. If he were around to hear them. He would most likely face palm himself. Followed by an even darker one in return.

“I loved my father. He’s got a darker sense of humour than I did and possibly ever have.” Boomer told her therapist. “I have my pet cats and my dogs. But I live on my own on the farm now.”

The therapist nodded, scribbling something down on her notepad. “How has that been for you?”

“Too quiet. I don’t particularly like the quiet as much as I used to. Maybe it was the fact I had other people around me?” Boomer answered, her voice filled with a tinge of sadness.

The therapist, Dr. Krovic, nodded thoughtfully. “It’s common to feel that way after a loss. The quiet can be deafening when you’re used to the noise of a loving home. Tell me, have you considered getting involved in any social activities? Maybe reconnecting with your mother?”

“If she wanted to, she would have made the effort ages ago.” Boomer replied.

The thought of her mother still brought a bitterness that lingered in the back of her throat. She knew the woman had moved on, living a life of luxury with her aunt’s husband, Marcus. It was a life that didn’t have room for her, not anymore.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Weiss: “I’m pregnant!”

Jaune: *heart fucking stops. tries to get up and falls over. catches himself with one hand and the other clasped over his heart*

Weiss: *walks in on him. Observes his plight with a smirk. * “I take it you heard me. ”

Ruby: *Comes flying in in a flash of petals*

Weiss: “No petals in the house!”

Ruby: *takes both her hands in hers and jumps in joy. Kisses her on the cheek.*

Ruby: “You are? You are?! How sure are you?”

Weiss: *shows her three tests* “Pretty sure. They could all be false positives but the odds seem low with three of them.”

Ruby: “You’re pregnant!" 

Weiss: "I know. I was a little scared after we tried for so long and didn’t get any results.”

Ruby: “Oh! What are you going to name them? Have you decided?”

Jaune: *falls on his face and whacks his chin on the coffee table as he drops*

Weiss: “Jaune!”

Ruby: “Oh my gosh!”

Jaune: “My chest hurts…”

Ruby: “Are you alright?”

Jaune: “I can’t breath. My child?”

Weiss: “Your child. Your little boy or girl.”

Jaune: *Sits up on the floor with a clawed hand over his wobbly heart. puts my back against the base of the coffee table and tried getting air in and out of his lungs.*

Ruby: “Oh do you hope it’s a boy or a girl?!" 

Weiss: "I don’t know. I think I’ll name them Pearle if they take my color scheme or maybe Opal. That’s if they’re a girl. Either scheme if they’re a boy I’ll name them Nebel.”

Ruby: “Oh my gosh! And I thought today couldn’t get more exciting!”

Jaune: “Neither… neither did I…”

Ruby: “You’re not going to pass out are you, Jaune?”

Jaune: “I think I might. My heart hurts. And it’s not… I can feel it in my ears and it’s wrong?”

Weiss: “You’re so pale…”  

Ruby: “Aren’t you excited!?”

Jaune: “I literally can’t handle more excitement…”

Ruby: “You’re also getting married today.”

Jaune: “I’m petrified.”

Ruby: “I think you stopped his heart!" 

Jaune: "I think it’s started again… I think…”

Weiss: “Buck up buttercup. You’re going to be a father.”

Jaune: “Oh my gods. Please tell me you’re not also pregnant. Ruby. I think it would literally kill me.”

Ruby: “I don’t know. Do you have more tests?”

Weiss: *nods and points* “Some in the bathroom." 

Ruby: "I’ll check!” *takes off in a burst of petals*

Weiss: “Ruby! No petals in the house!” *rolls her eyes. sits sidesaddle on the couch above Jaune* “You alright? Honestly?”

Jaune: “You… you really did stop my heart.”

Weiss: “But you’re okay? You’re happy?”

Jaune: “I’m terrified.”

Weiss: “But under that. I know you’re scared and you have a lot of reasons to be. But underneath the fear are you happy?”

Jaune: “Ecstatic. It’s fuckin’ deep though.”

Weiss: *rubs his back* “I wanted to stop your heart today a little. But I didn’t think I’d do it quite like this.”

Jaune: “You’re a cruel mistress.”

Weiss: “Wife. I’m a cruel wife.”

Jaune: “Right. That. I’m okay. I’m alright. Are you?”

Weiss: “Alright? Am I alright?”

Jaune: “Yeah. You. You’re the one that’s all…”

Weiss: “Pregnant?” *She wondered with a grin.*

Jaune: “Yeah.”

Weiss: “With child?” *She presses with a smirk.*

Jaune: “Yes, Weiss…”

Weiss: “Knocked up?” *She continues to flatten him*

Jaune: “For… for the love of god. Yes. Okay. All the synonyms. Are you alright? Are you happy? What do I do for you?”

Weiss: *She kissed his forehead gently and runs a hand through his hair* “You do plenty. Yes. I’m happy. It’s what I wanted.”

Jaune: “Right… well… right. Just let me know. You know? If you need anything. If I’m supposed to do something just let me know.”

Weiss: “I’m sure you’ll take care of me just fine.” *gives him that real, soft centered smile she sometimes grants him when she was honestly feeling happy and he breaths and let some relief into his soul.*

Jaune: *leaned his head back into her lap and she ran her fingers through his hair gently* “Right… Right…”

Ruby *walks back in* “So…I am not.”

Weiss: “How many tests did you take Ruby?” 

Ruby: “Like… a couple?! A couple! It’s not like you’re gonna use ‘em!”

Weiss: “They aren’t cheap!”

Ruby: “We have plenty of money! And I wanted to be sure! Cut me some slack. So… Do you hope it’s a girl or a boy first?” *sits down beside Weiss*

Weiss: “A boy… I think. A little boy as my eldest. Some little boy just like his father. To look after all the others.”

Jaune: “Well, maybe not just like me…”

Weiss: “No. Just like you. Eactly like you.”

If you liked this excerpt try my fanfic motion sickness V2

[hannahhook7744]

Canon & Semi-Canon Character List!;

For @askauradonprep .

LMK if you want me to add kids from other disney media like non-descendants books, sequels, and shows.

This list only includes the next gen kids from descendants (as well as Uliana).

--------------------------------------

Descendants (Mobile Game):

Scarlet.

Carter (Maybe a gender bent version of Scarlet who is dependent on your character's gender or could be a completely separate character).

Note: Diego de Vil was also in this game, if you want a visual on him.

--------------------------------------

Twitter-confirmed: 

Elle, daughter of Eric and Ariel.

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Evie's Wicked Runway:

Mia.

--------------------------------------

Scrapped Characters:

Aziz, son of Aladdin and Jasmine (mentioned in ‘the isle of the lost’ and the d1 script).

Anxelin, daughter of Rapunzel and Eugene Fitzherbert (mentioned somewhere unknown as of now).

Hadie, son of Hades (mentioned in ‘Return to the Isle of the Lost’).

Gigi, daughter of Mother Gothel (Mentioned in an early draft of a d2 script).

--------------------------------------

Concept Art Characters:

Lil Yaz, son of Yzma.

Quinlynn, daughter of the Queen of Hearts (can be seen in 'Good to be Bad'.)

--------------------------------------

Escape from the Isle of the Lost (Book):

Ariana Rose, niece of Aurora and Prince Phillip

Bobby Hood, the son of Robin Hood and Maid Marian.

Derek, the son of Dopey.

Shy, the son of Bashful.

Crabby, the son of Grumpy.

Hap and Cheerful, the sons of Happy.

Snoozy, the son of Sleepy.

Doc II, the son of Doc.

Gesundheit, the son of Sneezy. Nicknamed Gus.

Note: I also remember there being a Sneezy Jr but I can't find proof, so for now I'll just have them here.

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Players Mentioned on the Tourney Wiki:

Brendan.

Miguel (#44).

Tyrone (#32).

Akio (#42).

William (#12).

Li (#85).

Emir (#26).

Note: Aziz was also mentioned here on the wiki.

--------------------------------------

Kids Named Only in the Movie:

Taylor (Coach Jenkins called for him during one of the tourney scenes).

--------------------------------------

School of Secrets (Book Series):

Opal, the daughter of Mama Odie.

The Tweedledum and Tweedledee cousins, the sons of Tweedledum and Tweedledee.

Yi-min, the daughter of Yao.

Carina Potts, the daughter of Mrs. Potts.

--------------------------------------

School of Secrets (Web Series):

Unnamed Kid/Best Bro who's Great Uncle is Smee.

Dianne Doan (narration) and Andrea Savo (screen appearances) as Secret Blogger–the unidentified girl filming Auradon Prep's students who may or may not be Lonnie.

Mark Daugherty as School Reporter.

Blake Rosier as Sleepy Jr, son of Sleepy.

Bashful Jr, son of Bashful.

Ben Stillwell as Happy student.

Maxwell Chase as Jock.

Miles Tagtmeyer as Reasonable Student.

Maybe Sarah? (As shown in Chad's phone).

Unnamed Girl as Ariel's niece.

--------------------------------------

Carlos‘s Scavenger hunt (Book):

Henry (White haired little boy who is Carlos's biggest fan).

Unnamed Seven Year Old Son of John Darling.

--------------------------------------

Beyond the isle of the lost (Book):

Ace.

Chester, son of the Cheshire Cat.

Katy/Katy, daughter of the smoking caterpillar.

Twee and Dee, twin daughters of Tweedledee.

Dora, daughter of the Dormouse.

Bill, the former cook of the Duchess's nephew.

--------------------------------------

Descendants 1 (Movie):

Mal, the daughter of Maleficent and Hades.

Evie, the daughter of Evil Queen.

Jay, the son of Jafar.

Carlos De Vil,  the son of Cruella De Vil.

Ben, the son of Belle and Beast.

Audrey, the daughter of Aurora and Prince Phillip.

Lonnie, the daughter of Fa Mulan and Li Shang.

Chad Charming, the son of Cinderella and Prince Charming.

Jane, the daughter of the Fairy Godmother.

Doug, the son of Dopey and Doug's mother.

--------------------------------------

Rise of Red (Movie): 

Red, daughter of the Queen of Hearts.

Chloe Charming, daughter of Cinderella and Prince Charming.

Maddox Hatter, the Mad Hatter's son.

Morgie, the son of Morgana le Fay. 

Uliana/Ulyana, the younger sister of Ursula, and the aunt of Uma.

Unnamed Jasladdin/Jaladdin kid who can't be Aziz because the timeline doesn't work.

Zellie/Meadow, daughter of Rapunzel who may actually be Rapunzel (EDITED TO ADD NOTE: rumor has it that the actress who played Zellie/Meadow does not want her photos used, so if you do write Zellie or plan to use her character you may want to fancast/use a background character from the movies as her or avoid using photos all together. Unless it's proven otherwise).

Note: I’ve only included characters who didn’t exist before the movie. So no teenage versions of the adults. No Merlin, , and no Jack of Diamonds (since we see him as an adult only).

--------------------------------------

The Isle of the Lost (Book): 

Anthony Tremaine, the son of Anastasia Tremaine.

Beelzebub, the daughter of Lucifer.

Claudine Frollo, the daughter of Claude Frollo.

Clay Clayton, the son of Clayton.

Diego De Vil, the nephew of Cruella De Vil.

Gaston Jr. and Gaston the Third, the twin sons of Gaston.

Ginny Gothel, the daughter of Mother Gothel.

Harry Badun, the son of Horace.

Jace Badun, the son of Jasper.

Jade, the niece of Jafar.

Harriet Hook, the daughter of Captain Hook.

Lagan and Derelict, the children of Flotsam and Jetsam.

LeFou Deux, the son of LeFou.

Madam Mim's granddaughters.

Othello, the son of Iago.

Sammy Smee, the son of Mr. Smee.

The Evil Step-Granddaughters, six or seven unnamed daughters of Drizella Tremaine.

The Sea Witches who may or may not be related to Ursula.

Spotted Hyenas, the children of Shenzi, Benzai, and Ed.

Reza, the son of a former Royal Astronomer of Agrabah.

Yzla, the daughter of Yzma.

--------------------------------------

Descendants Wicked World (Show): 

Freddie Facilier, the daughter of Dr. Facilier.

CJ Hook, the daughter of Captain Hook.

Zevon, the son of Yzma.

Jordan, the daughter of the Genie.

Ally, the daughter of Alice.

Ruby, the daughter of Rapunzel and Eugene Fitzherbert.

--------------------------------------

Return to the Isle of the Lost (Book): 

Hadie, the son of Hades.

Mad Maddy, the granddaughter of Madam Mim.

Rick Ratcliffe, the son of Governor Ratcliffe.

Hermie Bing, the daughter of The Ringmaster.

Crocodile Descendants, the children of Tick Tock.

Herkie, the son of Hercules and Megara.

Tiger Peony, the daughter of Tiger Lily.

Artie, the son of King Arthur.

Gordon, the son of Grumpy.

Pin, the son of Pinocchio.

--------------------------------------

Rise of the Isle of the Lost (Book): 

Stabbington cousins,  the children of the Stabbington brothers.

Arabella, the niece of Ariel and Eric

Li Shang Jr., the son of Fa Mulan and Li Shang.

--------------------------------------

Descendants 2 (Movie): 

Kristie Sita plays an unnamed blonde pirate girl amputee in purple seen in Uma’s Crew. 

Uma, the daughter of Ursula.

Harry Hook, the son of Captain Hook.

Gil, the son of Gaston.

Dizzy Tremaine, the daughter of Drizella Tremaine.

Note: characters of Uma’s crew have been named in her book, but not all of them and there were plenty of other background kids from the movies and stuff that weren't named.

--------------------------------------

Uma’s Wicked Book:

Jonas, member of Uma’s crew.

Gonzo, member of Uma’s crew.

Bonny, member of Uma’s crew.

Desiree, member of Uma’s crew.

--------------------------------------

Descendants 3 (Movie): 

Celia Facilier, the daughter of Dr. Facilier.

Squeaky Smee, one of the twin sons of Mr. Smee.

Squirmy Smee, one of the twin sons of Mr. Smee.

--------------------------------------

Characters Who Were Mentioned That I Have Zero Clue Where They Were Mentioned:

Pirate named Maria/Marya.

--------------------------------------

Application Kids:

A kid who's name starts with Do or Da. Might be named Dawn. May be the child of a witch/someone selling something & a builder.

Cozzy/Coco, child of a writer named 'William' and a doctor named 'Martha'.

Hector/Sticks, child of an entertaynor/entertainer named Vivian and Lotso.

Bug, child of a bug eater (mom) and the implied child of Oogie Boogie.

Seen in this post by @leftbehindtorot :

If I missed anyone, let me know. Thank you for the help, @casinotrio1965 .

[dark-moonlust]

Unmasking Desire

Commission October 2024 for anon!! This has so much sass, enemies-to-lovers vibes and smut!

Pairing: male Fae (Eli Thorn) x fem Vampire (Mara Sinclair)

Summary: a female vampire named Mara and a male fae named Eli are professors at the same university. They have been rivals since they met but they’ve been assigned to work on something together by the head of their department. Despite their attempts to get out of it, they agree to meet up to get the project done. Emotions are unleashed, their desire unmasked.

Warnings: 18+, oral (fem+male) foreplay, p in v sex, overstimulation, in public but magic keeps it private and no one finds them, many orgasms (fem), size kink, dirty talk, big fae🍆, lots of 💦.

Copyright @ 2024 by Kate Hart This commission is owned by Kate Hart. As the original writer, I strictly forbid any form of reproduction, replication, or translation of my stories without my explicit consent. This is a commissioned short story and will be posted on the author’s sites for others to enjoy.

Late evening found Mara sitting in the back corner of the library, her legs crossed, drumming her dark-red nails against the leather arm of the velvet sofa. It was a quiet Saturday, no one was around. The library was open for her convenience. Moonlight filtered through the tall, narrow windows, sending faint shadows across the room. Silver hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face but her lips were twisted, a frown on her features.

She didn’t like waiting—especially when it was for him.

Professor Eli Thorn.

He was the last damn male in existence she would have chosen to cooperate with.

The project.

It was the worst duty she'd ever been given. Runes and magical artifacts from the Lost Ages. The words of the chief department still rang out in her mind. He had handed in this assignment at them with a single directive: "You two are some of our best minds and I'll expect you to work together, whatever your personal differences. Your research will provide remarkable intel for our university.”

Of all the damn people she had to cooperate with him.

Of course, Mara had tried to wriggle her way out of the assignment no matter how great. But the head of their department had been firm. Mara was busy enough already and working with Professor Thorn was going to be a pain in the butt. He grated on her nerves. He was a silver-tongued devil who thrived in finding ways to pry into her carefully guarded life, somehow invading every hour of her day with his maddening charisma.

Mara had watched him glide through lectures with ease, the students and fellow professors eating out of his hand, captivated by his calm, dark voice. Yet for some strange reason, Professor Eli Thorn decided to focus all of that energy on her. No matter what assignment she chose, no matter how tough her research, he always managed to find a way into her orbit, arranging things so he could poke her logic.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention. Her gaze sharpened as the door finally opened, the subject of her thoughts entering with that cocky, unconcerned strut that made her bite her lips and shift uncomfortably in her seat. Damn it… there it went again, that unnecessary attraction she felt every time she saw the irritating fae.

Tall and well-built, he strolled in the room, looking damn fine in a dark, brown vest over a crisp, white shirt, its sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, lean forearms tattooed with runes—signs of the ancient fae magic he possessed. His hands were also inked and full of veins, his fingers long and deft. He wore a single accessory: a silver ring set with a black opal, a powerful heirloom from his ancestors.

His face was sharply defined, clean shaven and as if crafted by an artist with an aristocratic jawline, slightly pointy ears, high cheekbones, a smirking mouth and chocolate dark skin. Eyes the color of deep green settled on her with a knowing glance. His lashes were long, his hair as black as midnight, falling to just below his jaw. Mara had noticed— completely randomly— that he often brushed it back when lost in thought or just in casual charm.

Why had that unimportant detail entered her mind again?

Clearing her throat, she returned his gaze boldly. “You are late, Professor Thorn.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk as he sat down irritatingly beside her on the sofa. “Missed me, Mara?”

“You keep calling me by my name when I’ve never given you leave to do so.”

“I know that deep down you just love it.”

Her jaw tightened. “I prefer it when people keep the professional boundaries.”

He didn’t reply and gazed at her silently, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe, taking in her cold, almost regal stance. He lingered just a touch too long over her figure, noticed the way she tightened her thighs and he cursed himself for it. She was a creature of precision and discipline, yet at the same time, a living temptation, a dangerous mystery.

Yes, Eli thought silently, the vampiress was a vision, sitting there in a demure dark red dress that hid most of her smooth porcelain-pale skin. Yet, somehow, it managed to make her appear even more luscious, driving him mad with longing. She was tall, with generous curves and magnificent silver hair that fell in thick curls down her shoulders, reaching past her waist. Her hair was truly captivating, framing her face like a halo, emphasizing her striking blood-red eyes and lips— full bow-shaped lips, hiding her fanged teeth.

Eli had never met anyone like her. She was all prim, razor-edged disapproval and looked at him as if he were beneath her as if she'd rather drive a stake through his heart than spend another moment with him. But she also tugged at something deeper inside him, something darker within. There was a fire beneath that graceful pride of hers and he could sense it shimmering, scent her desire.

And the more he sensed that heat, the more he wanted to expose it—to shatter her walls, lay her bare, breathless and powerless, beneath, above him, in every position possible, every part of her entangled with him.

Bloody hell… he doubted he could complete the assignment after all. His defenses were crumbling. His patience snapping.

Eli swallowed back his innate craving and forced himself to focus.

"So," he said, breaking the tense silence between them. "How do you propose we divide the work, then?”

“I suggest we work separately and discuss only when necessary. I prefer my partners silent and obedient.”

Eli lounged back in his seat, his legs outstretching, arms nonchalantly folded across his chest. "Silent and obedient? Oh, Mara…" he drawled, allowing her name to slide off his lips. "It’s such a shame. I was never any good at obeying."

“Which, frankly, makes me question why I'm stuck with you.”

“Oh, poor you. But go ahead, sweetheart. Try pretending you don't want me here.”

“Enough with the useless talk. This project takes dedication and competence, I don’t want it to take forever, can we begin please?”

He grinned and stretched out with a leisurely look, obviously taking his time. "You know, judging by the fire in your eyes, it as if you wish you could make me disappear into thin air."

Eli saw her smile. Her lips curved, just a little, cute fangs peeking —and damn it, she was lovely.

“Was that a smile?” He leaned forward, his scent taunting her senses. “Pretty. Do it again.”

“Do you really think you're going to get to me with this nonsense?” she murmured, turning open her notebook in an attempt to avoid him.

He laughed. “How you wound me.��

She slammed her notebook shut and sighed. "If only.”

Another low husky laugh while he brushed his hair back and Mara couldn’t help but follow that motion. Warmth pooled in her belly and she flung herself up, quickly widening the gap between them. She hated him and his commanding, alluring energy that prickled her flesh.

No, she thought. Professor Eli Thorn was distracting and irritating. Nothing more.

Mara approached the tall bookcases but before she could grab a book, he was there, his chest pressing against her. Her notebook dropped to the floor and she clutched the bookshelf as she felt every line of his muscular chest against her back, his orangy musky scent surrounding her. He tantalized her senses, made her body tinkle in heat, liquid warmth trickling from her pussy. And yet she didn’t pull away.

“What are you— we are supposed to be looking over texts—ancient runes—”

“Hmmm,” he interrupted huskily. “It’s a project that will take a lot of work and cooperation.”

“Your games, Professor Thorne are pointless.”

“Tell me, Mara—do I get under your skin as much as you get under mine?” he drawled, his warm breath tricking her ear. He was at the end of his tether. Fuck patience. Fuck everything.

“I repeat, your games are pointless.”

“Liar.”

In a swift motion, he turned her over, his hard chest squeezing against her breasts and pressing her back against the shelves. Strong arms encircled her as she gasped and placed her palms into his chest, splaying her fingers wide to feel his muscles contract. Damn, he felt so good, so hard and unyielding, his scent wrapping around her.

“Yes, you are a liar,” he repeated, his voice husky, “you keep biting your lips, rubbing your thighs together.” He leaned down, his smirking lips inches from her own. “I can scent you, my naughty little vampiress. Your pussy must be soaked. Must be feeling so sore and needy down there, hm?”

“Is it amusing, Professor Thorne?” Mara’s voice was smooth but there was tension in her crimson eyes. “Treating me like this?”

“Amusing? Oh, absolutely.” His hands reached out, fingers burying in her silky hair. “I mean, how often do I get to see the perfect Mara Sinclair looking like she’s about to snap?“

"Release me. You're insufferable."

Mara struggled but didn’t use the full force of her strength. She could have him off of her in a few lethal movements, but she didn’t want to. She liked him exactly where he was. And he obviously liked it, too. He didn’t budge and chuckled low and deeply which both frustrated and left her breathless.

"And you enjoy every second of it, don't you? Go ahead, confess it. You pretend to hate me but you want me,” he drawled, pressing the head of his erection against her belly. “Gods, you drive me mad. I’ve wanted you ever since I looked at you.”

“If you think I’ll be drawn by your juvenile attempts at flirting, think again.“

“Oh, but you’re calling this flirting. And you know what? I believe there is a part of you that appreciates how I make you feel something other than perfect, something real."

Mara opened her mouth to reply only to have her breath shallowed by his mouth. His lips brushed against hers, tasted her before coaxing the seam apart and plunging inside. He growled at her taste, pinning her hands on either side of her head, his body pressing down on hers, his cock hard and pulsing. Nearly melting against him, Mara gave him her mouth, freely, opening at his invasion, their breaths and moans mingling. 

Eli broke apart the kiss for a second, marveling at her kiss-swollen lips. “All you have to do is let go for once.”

“So that you can break me?" Mara replied, half-dazed by the kiss.

His grin grew nasty, his green eyes flaring with something predatory. "Never. I’ll let you break me apart, sweetheart, do whatever you want with me.”

And then he was kissing her again, this time devouring her lips and letting his tongue taste her mouth. Mara felt her knees go weak and tried to pry her hands free. After a few tugs, he set her free and she hungrily roamed her hands over his body, touching his broad back, feeling up the muscles of his chest and shoulders. 

“Damn, Mara,” he groaned and gave a sharp thrust against her clothed belly. “It fucking hurts— hurts to be so hard for you.”

“Eli…” she whispered as she let her barriers fall, the carefully formed shields she had created collapsing under his touch.

“Finally, you called me by my name.”

His gaze met hers and she felt herself falling into the passionate green of his eyes, the desire simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to swallow them both. The line between desire and restraint snapped— it no longer mattered.

She was done hiding her emotions for him.

Done playing.

This one’s a bit longer than usual, so if you’re up for the full read, it’s available for free over on Patreοn. It’s open to everyone—come by and enjoy!

[rock-swag-tournament]

Mineral Swag Tournament Finals

Okay y'all, this is it. The FINAL for the Mineral Swag Tournament.

Fluorite.

Fluorite is a fantastic mineral. It would not have gotten this far otherwise. It comes in a ton of colors, it naturally forms both octahedra and cubes (and massive deposits), and it show brilliant bright blue color under UV light. Fluorescence (the phenomena) is named that because of fluorite!

It also does this fun thing (that other minerals do as well, but it is common among fluorite) where it changes color as it forms because of changing impurities in the solution from which it grows! Elements like iron, copper, manganese, chromium (and more!) can replace individual ions in fluorite's chemical structure and cause the light to reflect different wavelengths and we therefore see that as a different color. This can also happen if a fluorite ion is missing because the sample has been irradiated (for example) and NOTHING replaces it and so the light still reflects in a different way! That is one of the ways we get purple fluorite and this method of producing color is known as color centers.

Of course, not all fluorite fluoresces. Not all fluorite forms cubes or octahedra. Some fluorite is colorless. Some of it looks like an ugly little piece of translucent rock. Or a vein of purple mineral in a crack between two other rocks. It would be irresponsible for me to insinuate that all fluorite is this majestic.

But there are some properties that you will always find in fluorite. It has four directions of cleavage. It is the defining mineral for a 4 on the Mohs hardness scale. It will always be made of calcium and fluoride in a 1:2 ratio. These things are some of what define fluorite as a distinct mineral!

Opal.

Opal is a beautiful gemstone. Please note that I did not call it a "beautiful mineral" because it is not technically a mineral. It is a solid, inorganic substance with a defined chemical formula, but it lacks the specific crystal structure which minerals MUST have to be considered a mineral.

This crystal structure is the entire reason why fluorite is capable of forming cubes and octahedra. And why garnet forms dodecahedra and beryl forms columns and so on. Opal only comes in those fun little oval shaped stones because it was cut that way! Fluorite forms cubes because it just knows how. Otherwise, opal forms shapeless masses that fracture rather than cleave (fluorite cleaves--four ways). That being said, opal's lack of crystal structure allows it to sometimes be iridescent.

After all, there is a reason opal made it this far. When it shines, it is beautiful. There are several varieties of precious opal (opal that displays its trademark play-of-color/iridescence) and they are all very fun to look at. These precious opals are made of microscopic silica spheres that light reflects off of in weird ways and causes opal to look like it is glittering with a dozen different colors.

However, one would be remiss to forget common opal! Some opal is milky white or a translucent blue, and if you're going to love opal at her fire opal, you better also love her at her common opal.

Here are some raw pieces of opal (common opal on the left). Note how they break irregularly. They have conchoidal fracture, which both quartz and normal glass (all of which are just silica) also have. I personally think conchoidal fracture is pretty neat.

Also, while the opals on the right would still be considered precious opal, they are what the average person is likely to find. Just little bits of iridescence here and there.

And, like fluorite, while not all opals have all of the cool features, they do have some similarities. They will always have conchoidal fracture if they break. And they will always be made of hydrated SiO2.

...That's all I have for these guys, I think! I hope I have been as impartial (and accurate) as possible while presenting these, your FINAL mineral swag contestants. If you have any questions or anything, let me know. The Rock Swag Tournament will start shortly after this concludes! Submit your rocks here! And specific rock formations or named rock varieties here!

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

PETS FOR ARRANGED READER PETS FOR ARRANGED READER PLSPLSPLSPLS

Bruce sipped his cup of coffee and watched from the balcony on his bedroom. A little pleased with himself.

Giving you back one of your first loves- horses, had evidently been a good move. You spent more time outdoors. And you looked stronger- healthier. Horseback riding, Bruce learned was a full body work out pretty much.

Which meant you ate. You had to eat because hours of riding was work. Taking care of your horse was work.

It was something. Even if it was a relatively solitary activity. He'd take it. There was no real trouble for you to get into on the grounds. And frankly, he was just relieved you were eating actual meals.

Opal, so named for the circular white spot on her chest that reminded you of an opal- was good for you. That much was abundantly clear.

"Did she eat breakfast?" Bruce asked Alfred who appeared and set down his tray.

"Not at the table, but she took some things with her," Alfred snorted, more amused than offended. "It seems she found something to sketch and wanted to get it in the right light."

"I wonder what for."

"Reasons known only to herself I imagine," Alfred snorted, shaking his head. "Master Bruce-"

"I know the stable construction means there's sawdust but-"

"I can handle a little extra sweeping," Alfred said waving his concerns away. But- Giving her back horseback riding-"

"They sold her horse because she came in second place. At 9- it wasn't fair."

"No," Alfred agreed. "And I think your mother would be proud of you."