#serpent prep
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Harry Hook and Uma Report Cards (Plus School Info);
Schools:
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Still annoyed that Oraya risked it all for a man in his 30s she only knew for 4 months
#the serpent and the wings of night#oraya#raihn ashraj#all that prep and she ignored it for some abs#poor Vincent
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No one can incite rage in you quite like your father!
#lazy fucking piece of shit demanding a child make him an easy prep meal you have no fucking shame#no fucking backbone trying to get another to make your shit despite her deadly allergy#and you keep trying to make nice with me with the same serpent's tongue you use to swear at my brother#i oughta kill you fucking demon#im shaking rn i forgot he always gotta piss me off every few months#god. god.#ya allah if you're listening give my parents a divorce. or get this nigga on sedatives wtvr comes first i dont care.#if you're reading these tags please don't just scroll. i just need an outlet bc i want to fucking break smthn but i can't.
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doodled some of mirai's friends... Belle (tinkaton), Flat (ceruledge), and Merlin (shiny honchkrow).
#◓ picnic time { ooc }#◓ iron serpent { gallery }#my art#merlin i want to change his outfit a little bit... or rather its not quite done yet lmao#belle is sporty prep and flat is nerdy goth.#i like them all... ocs r fun
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Yandere! Supernatural Harem
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
A/N: This idea was inspired by a Reddit prompt.
Ever since you were little, you’ve always attracted unwanted attention from supernatural creatures. You were like a magnet, a special enigma that only certain entities were aware of. Werewolves would try to take you to their dens, sirens would always try to lull you towards the sea with their voices, fairies would try to guide you to their forbidden forests. The list could go on and on.
Mythological creatures thought to be made up scary bedtime stories would always line up outside your door. It didn’t matter how old you were. Childhood memories consisted of these monsters trying to kidnap and force an adoption upon you. Teenage/adult years consisted of marriage proposals and courtship. No matter where you were, there was always a stalker up your trail following you.
Having friends was basically impossible. Every interaction you’ve had with another person has always ended up badly for them. Whether they be mutilated beyond recognition or become a seeping liquid you knew better then to go out and make friends. Thankfully, you’re family was never harmed by this ordeal and you moved as far away from them as possible to keep them safe.
Currently, you have a dilemma on your hands and right now it’s because of a certain Naga.
“Do you like my skin?” He asked in a tense voice. As he stands before you with his long serpent tail wagging through the air like a dog.
“It’s very pretty” You knew better than this. You felt like an absolute fool for picking up his shedded skin. Honestly, you should have just ignore it and went on with your day as if nothing was there.
“I’m so happy you think that way. If you like it that much let’s get married and I can give you as much as your pretty little heart desires. I’m so happy I decided to approach you. It took me months of prepping and working my skin to make sure that it shined brightly when it came off”
“It’s happening again,” you thought. Interactions like this happen on a daily basis. It would be strange not to see one marriage proposal a day from these guys. No matter what you did or how much you changed your appearance, these guys would always come back with eyes filled with love. Everyone of those supernatural creatures had their own unique version of courting and expressing their love.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t think I’m ready for marriage”
“You don’t have to be, as long as you come back with me I’ll make sure to treat you right and absolutely worship you. Being in your presence and being the only thing to brace your eyes is enough for me.
“I need some time to think about this, my emotions are still unclear”
“I understand this concern of yours and shall agree to give some time to ponder about this. However, I shall be coming back within a month's time and if you are still unsure I will take you back with me whether you like it or not” The naga states as slithers out of your yard and back into the forest.
The day just started and you were already exhausted. It honestly did not matter if he came back or not because, as said before, at least one supernatural creature was at your side. When he comes back, there would most likely be a bloodthirsty fight between two entities and you were sure as hell not going to get in the way by stopping the fight.
Well, there’s no use in moping around might as well just go back inside to make dinner for yourself. Walking towards your kitchen you go to pick up some food but before you could everything in your house was being knocked over.
“Seriously, again?!” You were honestly getting so sick of this. Your ghost admirer seemed to have barged into your home and was making a mess of it.
“If you’re going to stay here you might as well help me cook dinner” Honestly, the audacity of this man has you appalled. Out of all your obsessive admirers, the ghosts were definitely the most annoying. Every single day they always barge into your home and there’s nothing you can do about it because they can quite literally go through your walls.
“I’ll do it but only if you call me husband” he says lovingly as he starts to make his form appear visible to your eyes.
“Please, husband” And just like that, ingredients start to fly through the air. Hey, I mean who are you to deny free labor. If they're always going to make an appearance in your life might as well just make them useful.
After dinner, you decided to take a long needed bubble bath. Sometimes you wonder what life would be like if you were just a normal and average person. It didn’t really even matter anyways, it’s not like those wishes would ever become a reality.
Moving your way out of the bathroom you start to make your way to bed. As you lay there your eyes begin to droop and sleep begin to succumb to you.
It would have been a peaceful scene had it not been for the vampire staring at you through your window…
Pt.2
#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere harem#yandere scenarios#yandere supernatural#gn reader
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EXCERPT FROM EDEN ┊ AIZAWA SHOUTA
synopsis: the further you delve into the forest the farther you find yourself from your village's good graces—subsequently pushed into the arms of a creature you were warned to stay away from.
tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, fantasy au, naga aizawa, human reader, childhood friends to lovers, mention of violence (reader has bruises), reader is an outcast, bathing together, nesting, monsterfucking, mating bites (not A/B/O), aphrodisiac venom (so no prep needed), dubcon (for the venom) but v enthusiastic consent, non human genitalia (hemipenes), grinding, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasm, creampie, aizawa carries reader (he is big n strong)
wc: 7.3K
There are monsters in the night.
Adults would spin tales about them when you were young. You were warned not to go near the forest. To never stray from the path. If a voice calls to you, do not answer. Look at your feet and cover your ears. Thoughts filled with blood-steeped, ugly stories of such creatures: half man half serpent taller than an ogre swallowing impious people up whole. Naga, the true tempter, the harbinger of misfortune.
Children spent idle time feigning courage and taunting the so-called beasts in spite of it; playing at the treeline, skittering over the border and rushing back with a surge of adrenaline, as if the creature had been right there awaiting a meal. But above all they liked to frighten you, the runt of the litter. Snakes like to eat mice, they would jeer. Little mouse they would call you. Perfect bait.
It had been dewy that fateful afternoon. You were chased deep into the unknown. Petichor hung thick around the trees after a sun shower. Summer was drawing to a close. Shorter days, darker mornings. Your elders would call the weather ‘temperamental’ and you liked that. As though the Gods were children clinging onto those last dregs of heat, unwilling to let go.
Grass flattened wet under your bare feet, you ran from sharp stones and sharper words. Ran until the only voice left in your head was your own. Lungs tight and spasming for oxygen. You felt eyes on you the moment foliage snapped under another tentative step—but the figure before you did not move. He remained on his stomach, arms folded beneath his head, body stretched long and bare across the narrow clearing to bathe in the sunspot. Lower, right at the base of his spine, pale skin faded seamlessly into black scales that made up the thick, sinuous tail of a snake.
Your knees stung where small open wounds touched the air. A gentle breeze flowed in through the underbrush, took your slight apprehension and whisked it into the thinning redwood canopy. As a child you simply couldn’t connect something so non threatening and lazy to the monsters of old.
You approached the naga with slow, telegraphed movements. Thin pupils drenched in vermillion glow observed behind a half lidded stare. Closer then, trembling hands tugged and stretched the hem of your shirt, popping the old stitching. “Hello,” you said, voice small even to your own ears. “I—I’m not a mouse. Just so you know”.
Something flickered in his expression; a stifled inhale, a brief shift, the naga sighed. It rolled through his body, belly turning toward the sky. Sunlight reflected on the exposed underside and shimmered iridescent, stealing your breath. “That much is obvious,” he replied tiredly.
“Then, you won’t eat me?” before he had the chance to answer, you’d already been emboldened. You tottered toward him with a surge of energy and sureness. “Thank you. Can we be friends?”
“No,” he muttered, retreating into his coils.
A familiar sensation stung behind your eyes and your bottom lip trembled fiercely. It built up in your body and collapsed. Loneliness, shame, the incessant, throbbing ache in your limbs after sprinting so far. You tried again, a quiet warble. “Please?”
But a stern voice rumbled from the layers of muscle, uninterested in your swelling emotions. “Go away kid,” the naga demanded. “It’s not safe out here”.
“M’not a kid,” then you kicked the dirt in a burst of wounded anger. While bigger than you, this naga wasn’t even close to towering an oni, so you bluffed petulantly, “You’re a kid too”.
“While that may be true I am still older than you,” came the disgruntled remark. Then, faster than you could register, an arm shot out from between the dark coils and took you by the throat.
Reflexively, you gripped the naga’s wrist with both hands. But you didn’t flinch. Rather than fight his hold you waited, rabbit-footed heart beating in your chest. Violence was nothing new to a runt like you. The hand slid up to your chin and forced you to keep his gaze. His eyes flickered strangely there in the darkness. Red like fresh blood. The ire in them faltered at your spiritless reaction.
“Annoying human. Your lack of instinct will get you killed,” the creature stated. You said nothing. He continued, “You’re far from home. Follow the river to your settlement. Do not come back here”.
You recall how abruptly your senses sharpened at his mention and latched onto the distant sound of running water. He freed you from his grip, pale limb slinking back into the recesses of his twisted tail. He reminded you of a snail receding into its shell. Boring, lazy and slow moving. Naga were not so frightening, you concluded.
You returned with reluctance, following the riverbank until the end of your new world where it broke into a wishbone shape and wound around the village. Adults frowned at the dry mud caking your feet, ankles and calves. Their calloused fingers squeezed roughly around your wrists and dragged you to the springs to scrub you raw.
“Where on earth have you been?” one asked, mouth set in a frown. Another held you by the shoulders, thumbs pressed into your collarbone with intention to bruise. “Your stupidity is going to curse us all,” they shook you in place and their strength only grew the more you fought. “Do not provoke the naga. Understand?”
Faces twisted in disappointment haunted you all through the night. Eyes sore and puffy. Tears soaked into your shirt; you could taste them in the back of your throat. Oval-shaped bruises adorned your collar yet your throat and your jaw remained unblemished, if not a little tender. You were hurt, but not by the one you were warned against.
Your second excursion into the forest to see the naga was of your own volition. He was not where you first met him but nearby, curled up beneath an ancient tree, right where her bole has spread and warped to create a small depression in the trunk. The wind billowed. Branches swayed and bent their spindly fingers, pointed at you, almost accusingly.
He appeared to be sleeping. Again. Arms folded atop his tail, chin rested on the cradle it made. Perhaps there was something wrong with you—as the elders often stated—but you were not entirely stupid. You kept your hands to yourself, letting only your eyes wander as you crept close enough to see the soft curve of his jaw, the sloped nose, the youthful cheeks.
Long dark hair draped loosely over pale shoulders, expression serene while he rested. You thought he was lovely. Not at all beastly. Right down to the dip of his stomach, where skin vanished into bony hips and an obsidian tail.
A guttural hum startled you where you stood. Unmoving, the naga murmured, “Do you have a death wish?”
That voice untied every knot in your body. “N—no,” you held strong. “I told you, I want to be friends”.
“And I told you that’s not happening”.
When he peeked at you through dark curtains into those dim eyes there came a softness, as though atoning for his harsh words. Under that gaze your stomach started to rumble. “You’re hungry,” you shrunk, palms pressed flat as though to snuff out the sound. “Humans need to eat multiple times a day, do they not?”
“…Sometimes,” your agreement was barely a mumble. “If there is enough for me”.
The naga scrutinised you and your answer, displeased by it. After a long silence he unravelled and asked, “Do you want food?”
Hope filled you from root to stem. You bloomed. Stretched for the open sky like a flower seeking sun, bouncing on the tips of your toes. “Food?” you echoed excitedly. You trailed after him and nearly tripped in your haste. He caught you with the end of his tail and sighed. It coiled tightly around your middle and inched you along with him.
Having glanced surreptitiously in his direction, your warm human hand swept across the cool dark scales. They were glossy and smooth, unlike anything you’d ever felt. As he moved you sensed the power in his limb.
“What do naga eat?”
“Anything. Fish, birds, insects,” he told you. The coil around your waist flexed as if to check you were there. Hearing your trepidation his tone lilted as he added, “But what you’re really asking is if I eat humans, aren’t you?”
You rubbed where you thought his belly might be and pondered aloud, “Would you, if they deserved it?”
He scowled over his shoulder and came to an abrupt stop. “What kind of a question is that, kid?”
You wilted at the sharp verbiage, feeling scolded, though unable to understand his offense. After all, that is exactly what the villagers would say of you if ever he decided to.
That only seemed to fuel his frustration. You worried in the face of it, for a weak moment. Warnings you’ve clamoured in your conscience, soon chased by immediate guilt. Your new friend had offered kindness and there you were, assuming the worst of him.
Sensing your turmoil the naga cautiously brought his hand to your head. Front to back, pausing at a vulnerable, unmarked nape. He attempted to pet you. Wide eyed, you stared ahead until every leaf in the grove coalesced into a green blur. His touch had been deliberate, soft and soothing despite the tension set in his face.
Laid in the palm of his other hand was a pile of plum red berries. The coils relaxed to recline you into a comfortable position and wordlessly, you shared the small treat together. Teeth glinted sharp in the daylight, made to rend flesh from bone. They sank tender into thin skin until it burst and he hummed at the flavour enjoying a simple pleasure like any human boy would.
Their fruity tang clung to your tongue. You took your fill and more. “Thank you…” your voice lost strength, no name to fill the blanks.
“Aizawa,” he muttered. A rough swipe of his thumb across your lips wiped away the citrus. “It’s Aizawa Shouta. And don’t speak with your mouth full”.
The sky darkened on the eventide. Aizawa bid you a flippant farewell, your name at home in his mouth, and you erred on caution, changing course to wash the dirt and foliage from your body. Loud was the pounding of your heart against your ribs, a frantic beat. But nobody batted an eye at your presence, nor the absence of it.
Those short excursions continued for some time. Be it a stroke of boredom, or loneliness, you would find yourself treading back through the banks, to Aizawa’s territory. There was never a discernible path leading to him. Your legs would simply take you there, heart magnetised like the arrow of a compass. Whilst the village raised you with harsh, inattentive hands, he became your North. Years passed together and eyes turned as your insatiable curiosity grew, along with your carelessness.
And with that carelessness came consequences.
Fate is a funny thing. You are sprinting through the forest, feet pounding against the dirt alongside the ghost of your childhood self. The enraged shouts have long since tapered into silence yet you can’t allow yourself to slow. Your limbs ache, a bone deep permafrost, fatigued muscles clenching.
They’d followed you yesterday. Unexpected, given how deliberately people avoided the village border. Everything collapsed in one fell swoop. A single misstep and your life was upturned. You heard their plans to confine you in the shrine and knew—you’d never be able to see Shouta again.
Lost in your muddied stream of consciousness your foot is caught in a bundle of jagged roots. Mossy fingers coil around your ankle. You stumble, taking impact to the knees. The sting is muted as it knocks the air from your burning lungs.
You gasp, a wet and raspy breath; an apocalyptic spring fills your chest. The trees are in bloom. High above the blossoms are pale pink, like branches covered in snow. Ash flowers fell slowly to coat the ground. They get in your hair, your clothes and your eyes.
Shouta finds you there. He has always had the uncanny ability to sense you in his territory, as though the forest were an extension of himself. Your neck strains to lift your head, looking through lashes to see his silhouette. Red eyes flash in the distance, and in a mere blink he is at your side.
“Shouta—”
A low, guttural sound reverberates in the back of his throat. You’re scooped into his embrace. He is gentle with you, always aware of the difference in size and strength, and your heart beats harder for it. “You’re early,” he says. “What happened?”
You exhale through the fresh tenderness searing, “They know”.
Shadows shift above you. A curtain of hair hangs in your periphery. Shouta sinks until your eyes are level. Big. He hit a frightening growth spurt after his juvenile shed. A broad chest, shoulders corded with muscle, his long tail heavy enough to disturb the natural topography of the forest floor. Uneven scars littered across his skin from territorial disputes that you were not privy to. The most recent curves along his right cheekbone, fresh and pink.
Your gaze lingered as you took in his expression. Mouth downturned in obvious discontent but eyes dark, pensive. Beautiful even when he is doing nothing at all.
Shouta’s irises flickered in the softening light of the afternoon sun. Fingers drumming on lacquer scales. “They know?” he repeats. Irritation coated the words, as it often did when speaking of your village. “They should have realised years ago”.
Like him, you had shed your own urgent adolescence. The world became smaller and you preferred it that way. It spun around Shouta as if he were your own axis. When you were with him there was something much bigger than childlike wonder.
“That’s different. I wasn’t anything important. But now I’ve… been slacking on my duties to see you,” embarrassed, you tear up the thinning grass, seated at the foot of his coils. “I’m old enough to be of use, so my absence is noticeable,”
“You were a child. Running off God knows where. You’re lucky an orc didn’t decide to pick his teeth with you,” the snap in his voice almost hurt, but there was no bite nor true anger aimed at you. You’ve had these arguments before.
“I’m lucky because I had you to protect me,” you amended gently, a small smile curled at the corner of your mouth. It took a while for you to realise that he tailed you home each time you visited, just to be sure. His scales shift at your back, carrying the praise through his body. “I know it bothers you, Shouta, but this is just how things are. Don’t worry, I’ll be more careful from now on”.
“This is not about you being careful,” Shouta mutters, though you get the sense he has no energy to truly argue. You hesitate in the brief silence. He takes you by the wrist, not the hand, and you pout about it.
He encourages you to come. You tread through the thick, clammy air as the sun beats down on your shoulders. Shouta takes you up the valley. Where the treeline ends the mouth of the river funnels south, surface glittering softly as the currents part around a large rock in the centre; top smoothed down flat for sunning. You watched while he sunk into the water, tail disappearing behind him as it submerged and disturbed the silt.
“Come on,” he coaxes begrudgingly. You dither by the edge, picking at your sleeve.
“I can’t get my clothes wet”.
Shouta reaches the rock, bracing an arm against it. Draped in open sunlight he turns to level you with a flat look. “Then take them off. Don’t bother giving excuses. I already know you’re wounded, I can smell it”.
Shit. You wince, resting a hand over the marks across your ribs and hip. You were so sure he hadn’t noticed anything.
Anticipation churned in your stomach. You’ve never been nude in front of him before—though not for lack of wanting, and you suppose he himself has always been naked in human terms. You swallow down trepidation and lift your shirt over your head, gaze resolutely pointed away from the river, which rippled with every minute shift Shouta’s tail.
The currents are a cool caress against your body as you step into the river, soothing the bruises. Tentative, you wade further, arms folded over your breasts for some semblance of modesty. Once you’re standing in waist high water something hard, smooth—Shouta’s tail wraps around you and pulls you close.
“Deep water,” he mutters softly. You’re pressed skin to skin. His throat bobs and he looks away. “Can’t have you drowning”.
“Right,” you say, left breathless by the proximity. You can feel his chest rise and fall. Sinew and muscle expands. Rigid scales dotted along his navel press against your abdomen as he sprawled around the sunning rock. “Thank you”.
He hums in lieu of a response. Small waves lap up your spine as he adjusts his grip, holding you with one arm around your lower back. Shouta traces his thumb over the large mark on your pelvis, the claw tip catching. “You said they found out. So this is the result?”
You grimace weakly at the subject. It was naïve to hope he would let it go. “It’s my fault. I was careless,” you tried, slumped in his embrace as though filled with wet sand. “They’re just afraid of what they don’t understand. I should’ve tried to explain years ago—”
“You and your misplaced guilt,” Shouta’s jaw ticks. He inhales deeply, his next words quieter on a long exhale. “Stop rationalising their mistreatment. They’re stuck in their ways”.
“Maybe. But I…”
The truth was that an ugly part of you had never wanted them to change for the better. You wanted Shouta to yourself for as long as he’s willing and their ignorance made it so. Fear kept them away. But it also stoked their anger.
“I can’t help but wonder why they're so against it,” you tuck your chin and smile despite the lump lodged in your throat, suddenly feeling naked in all manner of ways. “They treat me like a curse. And I know it’s natural to fear what you don’t understand, but if they just knew you—!”
“Humans should fear my kind,” Shouta interrupts, a bite to his tone. Your eyes dipped low, and you traced your fingers over the intricate mosaic of scales across his clavicle to avoid his sharp gaze. A short moment passes. “Your association with me doesn’t make you a harbinger of ill omen,” he murmurs, sweeping his hand along the planes of your back in silent apology. “If anything you’ve been protecting them from one”.
You lift your head. His pupils dilate, soften. “I have?”
A broad palm wraps around the nape of your neck, the other resting over your bruised hip. Shouta’s thumb brushes over your pulse. “If not for your insistence and naïve altruism I would have killed them for neglecting you,” Shouta admitted, bringing you tighter to his front. You’re taken deeper, until your feet no longer reach the riverbed and the cold no longer bites.
“When will you prioritise yourself?” he continues. “I’m starting to think you would pull out your own teeth if it could guarantee you’d never hurt anyone”.
You smile, a little dazed by how favourably he regarded you. His skin is cool under your fingertips. “That’s not quite true,” you trace the scar beneath his eye and he slows, turning into your palm. The pad of your thumb brushed the corner of his mouth. There you find those monstrous teeth, large and sharp behind his lips. The touch feels momentous, like something only lovers do. “And either way, I’d still have yours to protect me”.
Shouta rumbles at that. The vibrations loosen up the tension in your chest and satisfaction gathers warm in your belly. “Lean back,” he murmurs. Anticipation swoops through your belly as you recline in his arms, cradling you above the ripples to wash your body with his own hands.
“This water has healing properties. Further down the mountain the river splits and forms a hot spring,” Shouta’s claw-tipped fingers brush your nipple, pert under his attention. Your breath hitches. He pays it no mind, palm sliding over each breast and along your shoulders, wiping down the sweat and dirt. The pressure remains delicate around your waist, careful not to agitate the bruises.
Shouta kneads the soft parts of your body even after the filth is gone. You hum, allowing yourself to enjoy his attention. Everything feels heavier. Gravity bears hard on your arms as they lift to brush the wet hair back from his face and you marvel at how his eyelids flutter closed, one after the other. You comb through his roots, scratching lightly over his scalp before working loose the knots at the ends.
Something is beginning to swell beneath you but a quiet contentment overwhelms the reciprocal arousal stirring in your gut. Watching the tension in his face trickle away, eyes falling closed so dark lashes fan over pale cheeks. Your fingertips trace along the smattering of scales by his temple and notice a new vivid sheen to them.
“You look brighter,” you murmur, curious.
Awareness flies over his features. You almost miss it given how swiftly he buries it, taking on that familiar monotonous air. After years spent detailing the subtleties in every fleeting expression and spoken word you’ve become quite accustomed to Shouta concealing his embarrassment.
Turning away from your prying eyes, the line of his jaw becomes sharper as he swallows. “It’ll soon be my seasonal rut,” he tells you, feigning indifference. “My scales are more vibrant for the purpose of attracting a mate”.
“A mate?” you echo uselessly. Dread churns in the pit of your stomach. You knew well what having a ‘mate’ entailed. A white hot sensation prickles at your nape that not even the cool water can quell. In your naivety—and perhaps, selfishness—you’d never considered that he might find somebody else. Somebody suitable. “That’s… really great, Shouta. But who? I thought you chased off the last bed of naga that passed through?”
At this, a frown etched into Shouta’s brow. “You’re making a few unnecessary leaps in that head of yours,” he mutters. “At what point did I say my mate needed to be a naga?”
There’s something in his voice that gives weight to what he’s doing. It echoes an unspoken proposition. Unbidden from the recesses of your mind rose the wishful thoughts you’d imagined so often they were practically dogeared. A shiver trickled down your spine, caught in a gauzy yet comfortable silence as Shouta continued to clean your body.
The tip of his tongue peeks out to taste the air once he’s done. You fruitlessly will your body to temper its desire, to feign some semblance of control as you lift your head, no longer denying him the answer written plainly on your face.
“…I want that,” you confess, picking up the thread he left. You rub across his shoulders and bring your palms together in the middle of his chest, folded over his heart. “I can't go back. Take me home with you. Keep me”.
Shouta looks surprised—a microexpression, if anything; imperceptible to anyone but you—as though he hadn't expected you to accept. You’re warmed by the idea that he might’ve been hoping for more without expectation.
That’s all you’ve ever known, failed expectations.
A beat passes. You think he might be giving you a grace period—allowing time for a regret that never comes. When he realises you’ve no intention to take it back he sucks a hiss through his teeth, and you’re close enough to see his thin pupils spill into his irises until they’re inky black.
The river breaks around you, water foaming at the surface as Shouta unwittingly guides your knotted bodies to the shore. “I see you’re still as reckless as you were when we were children,” he says, sounding hoarse. “You have no idea what you’re agreeing to”.
“I’m saying yes to you, Shouta,” your voice strains, desperation creeping in when you feel his arms loosen and your feet brush the wet bank. “Teach me what I don’t know because I hate leaving. I hate missing you”.
The rough sensation of Shouta’s scales against your inner thighs rippled through your body, core tightening as he retained his grip around your waist. “This is not a conversation we’re having in the open,” he takes you both out of the water and you shy away from the cool air.
He bends over to collect your clothes and drapes them in your naked lap. You clutch the fabric close, “Where are we going?”
“To my den. No questions until then”.
The journey to Shouta’s den is long, deliberately so. Caught in his coils you go, without trepidation—like a willing little mouse, your mind whispers. Only on the third cycle do you realise that he is purposefully traveling in circles to cover his tracks. Aside from the occasional birdsong and cicada you don’t hear anything for miles. It’s so peaceful that you forget that a world exists outside of this vast, sprawling forest.
In time he reaches the den. The sky has darkened to an early dawn, the gloaming orange light casting shadows over Shouta’s face as he leans over you to shield you from the overgrowth to get to the entrance.
Arched tall and gaping, the bumpy outer walls of the cave are fissured with fingerlings of old tree roots. Shrouded in darkness, Shouta slithers around the stalagmites protruding from the floor with ease. Inside the air is thick, humid as he carries you deeper, metres further down, refusing to release you from his coils.
Meandering into a broader section, Shouta spreads out easily in the cavern. You blink around as your vision adjusts and notice narrow streams of light threading through the stalactites hung on the ceiling. Twinkling are various trinkets, tied around and dangling from the spikes. Jewels, chainmail, rusted daggers, cutlery.
When you were a young you’d spend sleepless nights imagining where Shouta lived, conjuring possibilities only a child could. Despite that curiosity you never asked to see his home—you knew, innately, as an avid observer of creatures big and small, that it would be an invasion of his privacy. But of everything you imagined it had been nothing like this.
There’s a wide alcove at the back of the cavern, housing what appears to be a nest near an extinguished fire pit, still carrying the faint scent of smoke. Shouta lowers you into it and slinks away for a moment to discard your clothes. Warmth engulfs you, insulated in the structure. There are branches both large and small intricately woven and padded with an assortment of pelts, lichen and moss. Most notable is the snakeskin used to hold together the joints of the nest.
You pinch a piece delicately between your thumb and forefinger. It’s thick, smoother than expected. “Is this yours?”
Though far off his voice reaches your ears, “Is that your first question?”
Shouta returns holding what looks to be a blanket. His tail drags behind him. The sound ripples around the space. When shaken out and draped over your bare lower half you discover that the blanket is actually the rest of his shed. It’s beautiful, inexplicably silky while being heavy and tough.
You tug the snakeskin higher up your body and note how fervently he tracks the movement. “Yes, it’s mine. It strengthens the nest,” Shouta explains, beginning a languorous dance circling the nest as though he were adding himself to it. Your attention does not stray as his tail coils upon itself, lap after lap until you’re entirely surrounded.
“You’ve been planning this,” you comment. How long had it taken for him to craft it? Did he imagine what you’d think? “It’s beautiful”.
Pleased with the height, Shouta’s upper body slinks down into the centre where you wait. Home. Not simply a place but an extension of his body, like the forest. You’re directly in the heart. A place that you alone have been allowed to see.
Your mind drifts to the feckless creatures and travelers who’ve wandered this way only to be killed. But rather than fear, or sorrow, a distinctive emotion welled up inside you. You felt special.
“It’s mainly instinct. Not much planning,” he says.
You reach to cup his cold face in your hands. Cheeks flush, like all the blood in him had rushed to the surface to greet you. He rumbles as your thumb traces an arc along his newest scar, tucking his chin to nuzzle into your palm. It’s cute, though you wouldn’t dare say that.
A content hum vibrates behind his ribs, “You’re so warm”. Then you feel the tentative press of lips and of fangs underneath. He kisses your heartline. You falter at the uncharacteristic show of affection, clutching his snakeskin tighter. His dark gaze falls to your partially covered chest. Low and supple he asks, “Do you know what it means to wear a naga skin?”
You slowly shake your head.
“Naga gift their sheds to be used in nests or as armour for their mates,” propped onto his arm Shouta presses closer, forcing your thighs to bracket the thick of his tail. “It’s viewed as a public claim,” he stops short a hair's breadth from your wanting mouth, sharing a shallow inhale.
Filled with intrepid awe, your fingertips walk the slope of his throat, hands laying flat to his chest. A hummingbird’s wing, a pulse belying his nerves. You reach for your voice, “Does this make me yours?”
Shouta blinks, pupils dilating. The distant trickle of water dripping from the stalactites echoes throughout the cavern. You feel his stomach clench where your touch slips lower, “Are you sure you want to be?”
“Since you fed me those berries in the east valley”.
“You were a child,” Shouta huffs, doing a poor job at appearing unaffected.
“Children sometimes imagine falling in love, you know,” a small, sad smile comes unbidden to your lips. “I never had anyone to play pretend with,” you tell him softly, meeting his eyes. “You always took care of me. Back then I wondered if that’s what it’d be like to have a husband when I came of age”.
With a furrow in his brow, Shouta cradles your jaw. He tucks his thumb against the corner of your downturned mouth, “A husband?”
“The human equivalent of a mate. A husband or wife,” you say. “Marriage is a promise to be together for the rest of your lives”.
“And you want that. The rest of your life,” Shouta’s words are hoarse, they sound thick in his throat. He brings your foreheads together, almost reverential, and dark tendrils of hair fall around you. “With me?”
You swallow. “Yes. I want…”
Your wandering hand stills at his navel, right in the bend where skin turned to scale. You’re reminded that he isn’t a human man. What you’ve been taught about sex and the parts that go along with the act—that knowledge is mostly worthless here.
Curious, you palm the growing bump where a cock would be, index finger tracing the thin slit along the middle, teasing him as you would tease yourself. Shouta grabs your wrist, arm braced above your head to rock into the touch, a frisson of iridescence rippling through his scales.
The airy groan in his throat quells your anxiety and feeds your longing. Chin tilted, your mouths aligned, a petal-soft brush that shakes him from his reverie and draws him back. You complain and curl your arms around his neck, missing him. He huffs a short laugh but doesn’t retreat any further.
“Careful,” he lifts his upper lip and pushes the tip of his tongue to his left fang. A pinprick of his blood wells there. “You’ll catch yourself”.
“Are you venomous?” and you pout, noticing the mirth flickering across his face. “What?”
“Not in the way you’re imagining. Pay attention,” he answers, and bends to tuck his nose into the hollow of your throat. His jaw unhinges, tasting you with a deep inhale. Oh. Your pulse rockets when he drags his fangs there in suggestion of a bite—breath held as they barely break skin and an abrupt heat tingles around the scratch.
“Wh—what does it do?” you gasp in wonder, poking the blooming mark as Shouta hums, descending to drag his lips over the peaks of your breasts.
“Humans call it a lot of things. An aphrodisiac, drug, relaxant,” he says. Each word is a kiss left everywhere but the one place you need it. Blood rushes to your ears. “A mating bite eases the burden. Makes sure your body ready for me,” you watch on with bated breath while he reaches lower, and jolt, ensnared in his half lidded gaze as he lightly drags his knuckles through your wet folds. His thumb finds your clit, massaging a few light circles around the swollen bundle of nerves. Your hips twitch, and Shouta grins at your soft whine, “Though you’re already doing that beautifully on your own”.
Desperate, you grapple at his shoulders. He rises with an indulgent smile and you lean to kiss him. A clumsy thing, open mouthed and needy, receding enough to make room for protest before kissing him again, and again, nipping the seam of his lips. Hair stands on end as the world suddenly tips on its axis and your positions are reversed.
You’ve no chance to mourn the loss. Shouta lay on his back. He sinks into the nest and draws your knee over his hip. A shiver licks up your spine as you sit low on his navel, entirely bare and wet; with him being so sensitive to his surroundings there’s no doubt he can feel the beat of desire between your thighs.
The flesh spills between his fingers as Shouta squeezes your waist. “I can feel you throbbing,” he murmurs. His own heat is swelling between you. Sticky arousal smeared on your inner thighs. Shouta’s vent pulses in time with his heart—and yours. You exhale a shaky breath, relieved and exhilarated that he wants you too. The growing pressure pushes against your clit and your hips twitch, a fleeting stutter to relieve the ache.
Shouta groans. Large hands find purchase at your hips, appreciating how your body yields to his touch, and encourages you to move. “Oh,” comes a soft gasp, feeling his swollen slit flower open beneath your cunt, leaking arousal. The friction, or lack thereof, is incredible, and you repeat the motion, seeking it again.
It’s slick where your bodies meet. The obscene wet sound of you rocking together leaves you dazed. Shouta’s lower half shifts as arousal zips through him and the nest creaks. “Fuck, feels good. More,” you demand breathlessly. Something else nudges against your clit with every pass, two heads budding from the vent, and your eyes screw shut—
Two?
A groan falls from Shouta’s mouth and your frantic realisation dissolves. You can hardly think. He licks the curve of your throat, nuzzling the barely-there-mark he’d left. Infinitesimal and yet it hasn’t stopped throbbing. An ache spreads through your hips, his hands rutting you against the swell with a desperate rhythm.
“Shouta,” you say, overwhelmed. “Do it. Bite me, fuck me, please. Please. I want—I want to—!”
The sharp pain is dulled so quickly you’re not sure it was ever there. Shouta sank his fangs into the juncture of your neck, a hand firm at your nape to keep you still. Vision blurred, your mouth drops open around a silent scream as your orgasm rips through you—the venom close behind, forcing your seized muscles pliant and stoking your arousal until it’s burning from the inside out.
Shouta releases your neck and trails his fingertips along the length of your back. You whine, a helpless and confused little sound, when the heat allays under his affections. Your thighs are trembling, slipping down his hips as you use the last of your inertia to curl into his chest.
He cradles your limp form amongst his coils, creating a protective barrier around you in such a vulnerable state. “I have you,” he says, the shaky baritone of his voice coaxing your eyes open. Half-cognisant, not quite in and not quite outside of yourself.
“…It’s too much,” you pant.
“I know,” Shouta kisses your temple, paving his way to the corner of your mouth, “You’re doing so well”.
You turn lazily into the kiss. Your thighs have fallen open further, and you subconsciously raise yourself up to better the angle. The blunt tip of one of his cocks nudges through your folds and a white hot sensation prickles over your skull. Shouta lowers you onto his cock with care, muscles corded tight in obvious restraint, wanting to ease you into the stretch. He’s thicker than a human, subtle soft ridges lining the sides, caressing you in places your fingers could never reach.
You begin to tremble and the air is pushed from your lungs with a gasping sob as he splits you open. The sensation is hard to decipher through the haze. Your ears ring, the sound high and metallic. It isn’t numbing—no, you can feel everything, every minute shift, pulse and ridge. It’s an intrusive, satisfying ache, an insurmountable pressure. There’s no part of you he isn’t touching. You consider, the thought vague and half-formed, that when Shouta bit you something in your brain must’ve rewired itself. Synapses crossed, addled by venom, convincing you of pleasure where there would otherwise be pain.
Your small world grows ever smaller. Shouta is all encompassing. His dark hair is tickling your face, smooth scales rippling under your cheek. He’s saying something—he must be, because his mouth is moving above you, murmuring what sounds like sweet incantations of your name.
An immaculate red glow pools into his irises as they roll skyward, brow furrowed in concentration. His second cock drools across his belly, where it lay trapped by your bodies. The slick underside of his cock wet and pulsing against your clit, fully sheathed.
“Do you have any idea how you feel—fuck,” Shouta’s jaw clenched as his cock recedes, leaving only the tip kissing your folds, before he fucks into you again. A shudder quakes through his coils. They constrict around the nest and Shouta pins you to his chest, thick arms held firm around your shoulders and back, tightening with every squirm. “Mine. Knew it had to be you,” came his hushed babbles, composure finally fraying at the seams.
With the surety that you’re not in pain, his pace grows, his rhythm earnest. Laved in shared arousal, you’re so wet every ingress is indelibly easy. To call yourself helpless would be to imply that you wanted to escape. You surrender to the unending, overbearing rapture, sprawled over your Shouta’s lap like a pile of loose skeins with a drunken smile. Chest heaving in exertion despite doing so little. The atmosphere is so oppressively humid that it’s hard to catch your breath.
It feels like he’s carving out something irreplaceable inside of you. A space that only he can fill, a craving only he can sate. Your hips stutter uselessly, grinding your clit against his other cock. Rather than building to a climax it feels as if you’ve toppled into one that never ends, only ebbs and flows without ever ceasing.
Shouta pulls you impossibly closer, so close your could feel the long stretch of his torso, every raised scar and curve. He nudges your temple until your head lolls back against his shoulder, and you’re looking at him. “Soft. You’re so—shit. You’re so soft. Human,” he rasps, pressing a kiss to your forehead. There’s a sheen of sweat on his brow, short tendrils of hair sticking to skin. You flutter around the flared head of his cock as it pulls out, “Look. I can feel you sucking me back in. Made for me, weren’t you?”
You follow his gaze, watching the dark, inhuman length of his cock disappear into your folds again and again, strings of moisture stretching between you. “Shouta,” his name feels thick in your mouth. You blink, air cool against your wet cheeks. “I need—I need you to—”
Nodding deliriously, his bruising grasp on you shifts. Shouta fucks into you feverishly, with an intensity that you fear might engulf you.“Fuck—!” a tremor quakes through his coils. Something audibly snaps in the nest. Shouta’s hips stutter, a long, breathy moan pulled loose deep in his chest, drawn out as a wet, sticky heat fills you—so much that it leaks between your thighs—and the immediate relief of his release has you clawing crescent moons into his shoulders.
Tipping over the crest, a final wave crashes over you. The convulsions force your eyes shut, so tight that pinpricks of light pierce the solid darkness, transforming into a kaleidoscope of vivid colour. The world falls away for a fleeting moment and you only feel yourself clamping around his cock, soaking his lap.
You resurface slowly, as does the sensation returning to your limbs. Venom remedied, easing in your system. You inhale, wince at the tenderness making space beside the contentment in your body, and Shouta runs a smoothing hand down your spine. It sweeps back up to your nape to gently trace the bite on your neck. “How’re you feeling?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”
You press a kiss to his collar, another under his jaw, “I’m sore and sticky. I’ve never orgasmed that hard in my life. But you didn’t hurt me”. Shouta purrs at that. It’s a noise you’ve only ever heard in the golden hour, when he’s sunning himself. Pure contentment.
You cup his cheek and gently turn him to face you. You kiss him, mouth bruised, fangs peeking through parted lips. Dark eyes soften. He’s no longer inside of you, noted with a weak clench, and his second cock remains half hard between your stomachs. Free to move, you wiggle in his embrace until it lines up, the suggestion kindling to the now twinging emptiness.
Shouta huffs, a loving admonishment, and carefully guides his second cock inside you. You hiss at the sensitivity but it isn’t unpleasant. Satisfaction balloons in your chest and you curl up against him with a pleased hum; no urgency, together for the sake of closeness.
“I’ll feed you and help you wash after I’ve calmed down,” he says. There’s no sign of discomfort or regret in his voice as he stares toward the mouth of the cave. Just a primal need to be alert, to stay vigilant for his mate. “I’ll be a little overbearing for the rest of the night. Be patient with me”.
Your gaze too lingers at the maw, recalling those blood-steeped, ugly stories of monstrous creatures. Indeed there are monsters in the night. But none of them are here.
A wide smile pulls at your lips, “We’ve got all the time in the world”.
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Kinktober Day 31 🎃
Tom Riddle x Choking (840 words)
A/N: Last one baby!! Ending Kinktober with some ultra spicy and very creepy Tom!
Warnings: || NSFW || MDNI || 18+ characters || p in v || Tom fucks you in a cemetery || Tom almost choking you to 💀 to get off || just Tom being Tom tbh ||
The air seemed to get ten degrees colder when you arrived at the cemetery gates, goosebumps forming rapidly on your arms. You brushed it off, reminding yourself that it was late at night, and that’s why it was cold. Not because you were in a cemetery on Halloween night. You put on a brave face as you slipped past the small opening between the bars.
You kept yourself on the path, terrified to accidentally step on any of the graves, lest you be stuck with bad luck. Walking deeper into the cemetery, you kept your eyes peeled for the “large mausoleum with a stone serpent on top” as you had been instructed. You found the mausoleum a few short paces later, a much more grand structure than you had been expecting. The sound of a throat being cleared made you jump before you could even find the inscription to know who this structure belonged to.
You turned towards the direction of the sound, a tall figure shrouded in the shadows. The fear creeping up in your stomach was quickly replaced when the figure approached, revealing himself to be Tom.
It was an odd request, meeting him in a cemetery on Halloween, but you were used to the boy’s odd theatrics by now. There was a darkness in his eyes that sent a shockwave straight down to your core, and before you could even speak to him, his lips were silencing yours. You leaned into his rough kiss, allowing him to back you into the door of the mausoleum. The sound of a wolf howl in the distance caused you to pull away from his mouth, frantically looking around. Tom’s long fingers took a hold of your chin, turning your face back towards his own. His voice was dark and gravelly as he whispered to you.
“Don’t worry darling, the only thing you have to fear is me.”
In one swift motion you were inside the mausoleum, your back against the door on the opposite side now. Your eyes took in the sight as your heart thumped in your chest. It was a small square space with two caskets on your sides and one in front of you. The space was dark, save for the dim blue glow of the moonlight pouring in from the small window above the door. Tom, clearly unbothered by your location, had already begun to work your clothes off, holding and hooking your leg around his back while his other hand worked his cock inside of you.
It was a sharp sting when Tom entered you, having had zero prep for this. But your body relaxed quickly as he began to fuck you into the door. You kept your eyes closed and face buried into the crook of his neck, desperate to ignore your surroundings and instead focus on the way his tip slammed against your cervix.
You threw your head back with a cry of Tom’s name as you rapidly approached orgasm, eyes still sealed shut. Your eyes shot open however when you felt Tom’s long fingers wrap around your neck. He roughly squeezed while his hips continued to snap into your own, his green eyes glued to yours, watching you struggle for oxygen. Conflict overtook your body as feelings of genuine fear mixed with arousal. Your hands came up to his arm to try and get him to let up, but he only smiled at you. He did tell you to be afraid of him after all.
Still, even with tears beginning to form in your eyes from the lack of air, your cunt still clenched around his length, desperate for release. With one final squeal you orgasmed around his cock, his hand loosening his grip, but only slightly to allow you airflow. After a brief moment of catching your breath and riding out your orgasm, he was back to squeezing around your throat, picking up his pace as he chased his own release.
A string of hisses left his lips as his hip movements became sloppier by the second, his eyes never leaving yours as you once again struggled for breath.
“You look so pretty like this, doll. Gasping for air while I fuck you, clinging to life while you cum around my cock. You’re so pretty, so perfect, I-”
A harsh groan left his lips as you felt him spill inside of you, his hand finally letting up off your throat completely to rest on the door. Your leg shook as Tom released his grip on it and your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. Your fingers grazed your neck, feeling the sensitive spots where you’d surely have marks tomorrow, the thought of having proof of Tom’s claim on you on your skin sending a shiver down your spine.
Tom took your hand, leading you out of the mausoleum. You shot the mausoleum a final glance before you disappeared with Tom back into the shadows, and you could swear the eyes on the serpent move as you walked away.
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❛ LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT ❜
Iguro Obanai X Fem!Reader
WC; 900+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: nothing just fluff, reader is a tad bit timid
⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) if you have time I was wondering if you could do an Obanai x reader, with Obanai having love at first sight with her and later on confessing. The reader is a hashira by the way, since he only likes strong people. - ANON
m.list | demon slayer m.list
You were the new Hashira for the Demon Slayer Corps and begged Ubuyashiki not to hold any special meetings with the other Hashira to make your presence more known.
However, it would have appeared that he could not have cared any less because he wanted the other Hashira to be informed of you, to recognize your existence in case they came across you on some mission so that they may know who you are.
The nerves inside of you were going crazy during the meeting, buzzing so loudly in your ear, wanting the meeting to be over. When the meeting did end, Ibuyashiki decided that he wanted to have dinner with all of the Hashira and decided we could all wait at the mansion while the food was being prepped.
You didn't head to any destination, just wandering around the house of Ubuyashiki. Not entering any rooms, just pacing to get your jumbled thoughts together.
You had turned a corner and bumped into someone. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you forced yourself to look up to see whom you had just bumped into; to your surprise, it was one of the Hashira-the Serpent Hashira-and your eyes widened. To you, he seemed like a person to be overly aware of his surroundings-one who would never bump into people.
His eyes-the two different colours they were-locked with yours as his gaze intensified, and for a brief second.
"I-I'm sorry," you said, blushing your cheeks. "I didn't mean to intrude."
At the passive tone of your voice, his eyes softened. "No need to apologize. Are you lost?"
He sounded softer than what you had expected, and your gaze softened while your lips parted just a bit.
You blushed slightly and nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid I am. I was looking for somewhere quiet."
"I can help you find your way. Follow me."
How nice, you thought.
You ended up, after a few moments, back in a familiar hallway. "Thanks very much. I'm really sorry to have troubled you."
"About nothing at all," Obanai said. "I'm glad I could help you."
You nodded politely, then parted ways. He couldn't help but replay that moment in his head; it was a feeling of a bond.
Later that week, Obanai decided to visit the training grounds to see other Hashira in action. When he turned up, he saw you training heavily with Sanemi. Your movements were precise.
Obanai watched, and in each moment he grew more entranced by you. You moved with grace, with power, that seemed to come so naturally to you.
Obanai stepped closer to you. This time, he could see all those lines of exhaustion etched right on your face. You wiped the sweat off your brow and looked at him, noticing he was standing not a few feet from you.
"Great performance," he said. "I have seen my share of great fighters, but there is surely something amazing about your strength and resolve".
Your cheeks flushed just a bit with the praise. "Thanks, Obanai. I'm just trying to improve every day."
Obanai's gaze lingered on you for a moment. "It means you're doing well. I have to admit, however, that a little while back, I was thinking about when we first met. There was just something about you that drew me in, really. "
You cocked your head to one side. "What do you mean?"
Obanai took a deep breath, his heart racing from nervousness. "Ever since I have first set my eyes on you, I felt this.this inexplicable something with you. And that drew me to you, and since then it's been getting stronger and stronger. "
You blinked, your eyes widened in shock. "You are saying…?"
Obanai nodded once. "Yes, I have tried to understand these feelings, but doubts are now removed. I regard you very highly, and I wanted you to know how I feel."
That took you by surprise, and your heart thundered from the effect of his words. You had seen him as strong but never would you have thought he cared for you in this way.
"I didn't know." he had begun awkwardly. "I mean, I've always admired you, too. But I never thought."
"I do realize this is rather sudden, but I wanted to be wholly upfront with you. I really do care for you, and. well, I'd like to see where things might go from here."
"I… I'd like that," you said, your voice quiet as you regarded him. "I'd like to see where it could go."
With just the very thought, Obanai had his heart racing, he held your hand. "Thank you. I'm so glad."
Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.
m.list | demon slayer m.list
#obanai fluff#obanai x reader#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer fluff#obanai iguro x reader#iguro x reader
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Dungeon Meshi - "Dungeon Meals" from volumes 5 to 8
More info under the cut
These are from chapter 29 to 56 (Volumes 5 to 8)
1 to 4
There were a total of 24 'Meals' this time in 28 chapters, for more info on the counting check the first post
Here's the meals of each chapter and who made them.
Chapter 29 - Red Dragon VII Meal: Boneless Dragon Ham Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 30 - Good Medicine Meal: Orcish Decoction Cooked by: Leed
Chapter 31 - Dryad Meal: Jack-O-Lantern Potage & Sauteed Dryad Buds with Cheese Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 33 - Sea Serpent, part 2 Meal: Portable Meal Set For Adventurers Cooked by: ? (ready made rations)
Chapter 34 - Cockatrice Meal: Eisbein-Style Cockatrice & Dyad Bud Sauerkraut With a Side of Grilled Anti-Petrify Herb Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 35 - Cleaners Meal 1: Cockatrice & Egg Ankake Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Stone Dish Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 36 - Dried with Sweet Sake (Mirinboshi) Meal: Eastern Style Cuisine Cooked by: Maizuru, Senshi and Chilchuck (Benichidori, Hien and Tade helped with prepping)
Chapter 38 - Chimera Meal: Omelette Made With a Harpy Egg Cooked by: Laios with Senshi's help
Chapter 40 - Shapeshifter 2 Meal: Memories of the 5th Floor Pilaf, Sweet Dyad and Whole 5th Floor Piccata Cooked by: Shapeshifters, Senshi, Marcille and Chilchuck
Chapter 41 - Hag Meal: Risotto Made From Mushrooms Collected at the Graveyard & Cheese from the Orcs Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 42 - Nightmare Meal: Nightmare Steamed in Alcohol Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 43- Ice Golem Meal: Ice Golem Chawan-Mushi & Cooked Fish that was Inside the Ice Golem Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 44 - Barometz Meal: Barometz Balut (Alternative Name: Barometz Chops) Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 45 - Egg Meal: Souful Eggs Benedict Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 46 - The Golden Country Meal: Vegetables in Jellied Slime, Rack of Beef Ribs, Bladefish Loaf, Potato and Rabbit Soup Cooked by: Golden Country Citizens
Chapter 47 - Griffin Meal: The Breakfast Senshi Made (Pancakes, Sausage, Pumpkin Soup, Scrambled Eggs) Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 48 - Familiars Meal: Skyfish and Chips Cooked by: Laios
Chapter 49 - Griffin Soup Meal 1: Griffin Soup (Upper Body), Griffin Soup (Lower Body) Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Hippogriff Soup Cooked by: Laios
Chapter 50 - Dumplings 1 Meal: Hippogriff Dumplings Cooked by: Senshi, Laios, Marcille, Chilchuck and Izutsumi (everyone)
Chapter 51 - Dumplings 2 Meal: Changeling-Dumplings via Fairy Ring Cooked by: Senshi
Chapter 55 - On Floor One 3 Meal: Hamburger Steak with Changeling sauce Cooked by: Senshi and Marcille
Chapter 56 - Bicorn Meal: Crispy Crunchy Mushroom Sandwich Cooked by: Senshi?
The chapters that had no "meal is done" panel were:
32 - Sea Serpent Part 1
37 - Harpy
39 - Shapeshifter 1
52 - Bacon and Eggs
53 - On Floor One 1
54 - On Floor One 2
Again most of them are the multi parts. chapter 47 originally didn't have the title and stats but the panel looked just like a food is done panel so I went to check on the official release and they added it so it's here. Chapter 37 I think its so far the only non multi part chapter where no food is prepped or eaten, in chapter 52 they make and drink tea even tho there's no special panel.
Now for stats.
Senshi made/worked on 17, 18 if you count the Crispy Crunchy Mushroom Sandwich and 19 if you count the small help with the omelet, I'll count the sandwich so 18.
Chilchuck worked on 3 meals
Marcille worked on 3 meals, one of them she was making a potion but it got used in a sauce
Laios made/worked on 4 meals, 2 of them by himself! And one of them with minimal Senshi help.
Izutsumi helped with the dumplings, you go izutsumi.
Out of the 24 meals in these 4 volumes, 22 were food and 1 was medicine and 1 was a goopy brick
Out of the 22 foods Senshi worked on 17 of them (1 of his was the brick), 3 of them were Laios, 1 of them was ready made food and 1 was the golden kingdom citizens
The eastern style meal was mostly made by Maizuru but Senshi helped.
There was a few panels that were small/had dialog in them but I counted cause they had the meal title, dragon ham title appears twice but I only counted as one meal.
Once again, I'm bad with numbers if I got anything wrong feel free to correct me!
#Dungeon Meals#Dungeon Meshi#Laios Party#Laios Touden#Senshi#Senshi of Izganda#Marcille Donato#Chilchuck#Chilchuck Tims#long post#longpost
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Narnia Headcanons
King Edmund the Just
Had several casual relationships and hook-ups with people of all genders, but he neither fell in love with someone nor did he think that someone was politically beneficial enough to marry. He prefers not to label his sexuality.
Narnians gave him many titles. The Fair Judge, the Swordmaster of Narnia, King Edmund the Benevolent, Representative of the People and so on. He was greatly admired in the supreme court of Narnia for his kindness and unbiased treatment of everyone. Beyond Narnian borders he was called the Cunning Fox of Narnia, King Edmund Swordstorm, Edmund the Serpent-Tongued King, the Hurricane of Narnia, etc.
He was the chief diplomat of Narnia, and frequently journeyed to foreign nations to deal with international matters. He was renowned for his art of conversation and would weave such elaborate traps with his words that his prey did not realise they were in danger until they had no way of getting out.
He was a deadly swordfighter— he carried two swords, and despite the lack of a shield, preferred to wear leather armour instead of chainmail. The unconventional armour sent the message that he was lethal enough to not need any real protection.
In one-on-one duels, Peter was better, but Edmund was known as Swordstorm and the Hurricane of Narnia for a reason. His dual swords carved through dozens of enemy soldiers within moments, cutting swathes through the battlefield like a storm. He was brutal, swift and never left a foe alive, and was probably more feared that Peter.
His hair went down to the middle of his back, and was always in braids just like Peter's. He would let Lucy braid flowers into his hair whenever both of them needed to relax or had time. It wasn't uncommon to see the Just King walking around Paravel with roses or violets or jasmines in his hair. When they fell out of Narnia, he had thirty-two braids.
His war paint was deceptively mild looking— two dark green lines running over his left eye down to his chin, and three large dots on the underside of his right eye. It did not look very terrifying, but anybody who ever made the mistake of taking him to be harmless met their death at his sword a second later.
Enjoyed both studying and sports— he often took part in wrestling competitions and mock skirmishes, and just as often could be found debating with Susan, or metaphorically destroying some poor soul that had fallen for his charm and agreed to play chess with him, or in the library with his head buried in a book.
He and Peter refused to duel each other after a certain point in time. They knew each other's fighting styles too well— the duel would always end in a draw, no matter how brutal and deadly Edmund was or how fast and strong Peter was.
Just as good a war strategist as the other Pevensies. He usually left the strategising to Peter and Lucy, but when he did put in his two words, his plans were always crucial in winning wars.
His favourite subjects were Politics, History and funnily enough, cooking. He would often sneak into the kitchens during his free time and ask the chefs to teach him how to cook. Within a year of sitting in on meal prep, he was excellent at cooking, and at least every two months the Pevensies gathered for a family dinner prepared by Edmund.
Piercings. His right ear had four piercings and left had two. He had one in his belly-button and another on his tongue, and then a vertical piercing at his right eyebrow that exacerbated the action of him raising an eyebrow.
The King of Pranks™. Permanent and semi-permanent residents of the castle were frequent targets for his pranks, and the stories of his mischief-making were so outrageous and unbelievable that if anyone who had never been on the wrong end of his metaphorical sword would never even entertain the idea of them being true.
#narnia#the chronicles of narnia#narnia headcanons#chronicles of narnia#edmund pevensie#edmund pevensie headcanons#peter pevensie#susan pevensie#lucy pevensie#the pevensie siblings#the pevensies#pevensies#pevensie siblings#amrut writes about narnia
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Who do y'all think runs Serpent Prep?
#descendants#disney descendants#melissa de la cruz#disney#descendants au#wicked world#disney descendants au#uma's wicked book for villain kids#serpent preparatory for miscreants#serpent prep
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"I'm not giving up on you!"
Leonard McCoy X Reader
Summary: Following a terrible attack on the Enterprise, Dr. McCoy does everything he can to save the heavily-injured reader.
Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Warning(s): Wounds, Death, Implied violence, Ends in fluff
Dr. McCoy carefully navigated the sea of bodies, careful not to step on any one of them. The Enterprise had been boarded little more than thirty minutes ago. Bones followed the path of destruction, hoping to find some survivors. No such luck.
McCoy scanned every body for signs of life, but yielded no results. He grimaced and trudged onward. He hated this feeling of powerlessness. So many good people were dead and there was nothing he could do about it. If only he had gotten down here sooner, maybe there wouldn't be so many casualties.
Leonard rounded a corner and was disappointed to find even more bodies strewn all over the floor. But amidst the flashing red lights, he saw you. You were leaned against the wall, blood staining your blue uniform. His tricorder picked up your heartbeat and he immediately hurried to your side.
"Hey, can you hear me?" He asked, snapping his fingers near your ear. Much to his surprise, you slowly opened your eyes.
He couldn't believe you were alive, let alone conscious. Your arm was a mangled mess of burns, you had a massive laceration in your lower abdomen, you were sitting in a pool of your own blood, and you had a terrible concussion. Your groan came out as more of a choked gurgle.
Leonard wasted no time in prepping a hypo to ease your pain. "Can you speak?"
"Yeah," You managed weakly.
"That's good. That's really good. Can you tell me where it hurts?" He asked.
"It hurts everywhere," you murmured.
"Perfect."
"Perfect?" You asked.
"It means you still have feeling in your limbs. That's a really good sign," Bones jabbed the hypo into your arm and started digging into his bag. He had to get you stable if you were going to have any hope of surviving this. "I'm Dr. Leonard McCoy. Can you tell me your name darlin'?" He asked, trying to ease you into a sense of calm.
"Ensign Y/N Y/L/N. Biology department."
"On, I know about you, you're the one who wrote that dissertation on the possible medical uses of Aldebaran Serpent venom. You graduated top of your class in the starfleet academy. I heard you've got a promotion coming up." Leonard said, hoping to keep your mind alert. He didn't want you passing out with that concussion, not until he was sure there wasn't some internal bleeding going on that his scanners weren't picking up.
"Yeah, if I make it that far..."
"You're gonna make it, trust me." He swallowed. You could see it in his face. The chances of you living weren't very high.
"You're a terrible liar doctor McCoy...I'm gonna die here, aren't I?" You whispered.
"I brought the captain back from the dead using the blood of a homicidal maniac. I've performed greater miracles than this. You ain't gonna die, not if I have anything to say about it." He said, already working to disinfect the gaping wound in your stomach. "Just keep talking to me, can you do that?"
"I'll try..." You struggled to keep your eyes open. "I-I... I smell something burning..."
"Don't worry about that." Leonard said firmly. "Just...tell me about..." He grasped for a topic that wasn't your maimed body or the smell of burning hair. "Tell me about home. What's your family like?" Leonard started to autosuture the laceration.
You ignored his question and tilted your head down to look down at the damage. Bones grabbed your face and forced your eyes up to his. "Don't look at it. Just look at me, okay?"
"Mkay...nice face at least." You smiled weakly.
"Oh?" he got back to his work, but kept talking. "I've always been told I got a face only a mother could love. What's so nice about it?" He asked.
"You have pretty eyes... and..." You lost your train of thought.
"And what darlin'?"
"Huh?"
"I got pretty eyes and what?" he asked, fighting against the knot appearing in the pit of his stomach. He didn't know you, but he'd like to. You were a tough cookie and he respected the hell out of it. He could see it in your eyes. You still had so much to offer the world... the universe. He couldn't let you die like this. He wouldn't let you die like this.
"Oh...I like your...your forehead wrinkles...makes you look distinguished," you attempted another smile.
"Gotta say sweetheart, that might just be the nicest compliment I've ever received." Leonard met your gaze for just a moment before returning to his task.
"Well, I've got more where that came from..." You leaned your head against the wall and looked at the ceiling. "...Might throw up..."
"If you feel like you are, just tell me. Okay darlin'?"
"Mkay..."
You both fell into silence and Leonard labored to think of some way to get you talking again. The autosuture wasn't working fast enough for his liking. He still had about two and a half inches to go. If he didn't work fast enough, you were gonna die.
"...Everything's all fuzzy. Cold." You murmured. A low rumble echoed through the halls as if punctuating your dark statement.
"I bet. You lost a lot of blood, but you'll be okay." Leonard clenched his jaw.
"There are others...gotta help the others McCoy. I'm a lost cause."
"You are no such thing. I'm saving you dammit." He didn't have the heart to tell you the other people in the hallway were already dead. A sudden, sharp jolt shook the ship. Leonard grunted as he tried not to fall into you.
"I'm gonna die... I never even got to ask out that doctor. Never had the guts..." You mumbled, eyes struggling to focus on anything.
"What doctor?" Leonard asked as he continued closing you up.
"Y'know. The grumpy one." You said.
Leonard's expression darkened. He was trying dammit, but not nearly hard enough. You were growing delirious. You didn't even realize what you were admitting to him. Your eyes fluttered closed, but you kept talking.
"I don't really know him, but he saved a friend of mine once... He's uh..." You gathered your thoughts. "He's real smart. So dedicated to his patients. I really admire that... Also got this dry sense of humor, and a really handsome voice. I wouldn't have minded taking him out sometime. Buying him flowers." You hummed.
"He's the kind of guy you bring home to mama, I think...Well...My mama at least." You looked at Leonard, eyes swimming with grief. "I'm not scared. You have to tell her for me. That I wasn't scared...I have people back at home. Can you tell them I love them?" You whispered, just as Leonard finished closing your abdominal wound.
Leonard breathed a sigh of relief as he started wrapping you with a bandage. "You're gonna tell them yourself darlin'. You're gonna make it, you know why? Because you're strong. Resilient as a rubber band." He tied off the bandage and started going to work on your arm. "I'm gonna get you stable and we'll get down to the medbay, then you'll make a swift and miraculous recovery, just in time for you to earn the rank of Lieutenant. How does that sound?"
"..." You didn't respond.
"Y/N?" He asked. Your eyes were closed. Your heartbeat was growing fainter by the second. "No No. Dammit, come on! I'm not giving up on you!" He emptied hypos into your arms and legs. A cocktail of medicines were brewing inside of you, fighting to keep your heart beating. He waited with baited breath for your readings to change on his tricorder.
Eventually, your heartbeat grew stronger and your breathing deeper. Then, to his astonishment, you opened your eyes again.
"Welcome back, you gave me a start there." Leonard flashed a relieved smile.
"Sorry...didn't mean to fall asleep," You smiled back.
Suddenly, the red lights turned off and the hallway lit up in its usual bright white light.
"I know darlin'. You're awake now, that's what matters." He pulled out his communicator. "Nurse Chapel, do they have the bastards detained?... Good. I need a stretcher on deck 15, as well as a recovery team. Prep the protoplaser and the burn chamber for the arrival of ensign Y/L/N." After her confirmation, he hung up and pointed his scanner down the hallway to see if there were any more heartbeats. Nothing.
Bones sighed and hung his head. The bastards were thorough, he had to give them that. He found only one survivor out of how many hallways? He was curious about how the security team managed to take them down, but that would be a conversation for a different time.
"Goddamned bloodthirsty space beasts..." He hissed.
"Tell me about it," you chuckled. "Certainly did a number on me, huh?"
"How are you feeling?" Leonard leaned against the wall beside you.
"Numb all over... I suspect you had something to do with that?" You turned your head to look at him.
"I injected you with a hypo for pain relief right when I found you." He met your eyes.
"Funny. I don't think I remember that."
"You're definitely on the loopy side. Can't tell if it's from the blood loss or an adverse reaction to the medicine, but we'll figure all that out soon."
"You can go now. Someone's coming to get me right?"
"You ain't getting rid of me that easily. I'm staying with you until your stretcher arrives." He crossed his arms.
"But there's got to be others that need help too, right?" You closed your eyes. "I'm fine, you should help them."
"It's against protocol to leave a critical patient alone. I'm not leaving until your ride arrives." Just then, he heard the sound of the hover-stretcher. "Speak of the devil, it's about goddamned time." He stood and addressed the two nurses. He spoke to them in hushed medical lingo. You had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn't sound good.
Leonard helped load you onto the stretcher. "I'm passing you off to Nurse Bell and Nurse Valinsky. They're going to take great care of you."
"As opposed to you taking bad care of me?" You smiled tiredly.
"Very funny," He smirked. "I'll catch up with you soon. Don't miss my face too much, you hear?"
"You're asking for the impossible, Dr. McCoy," You joked. The nurses guided you down the hall and around the corner. Leonard stared out at the crowded hallway, hoping his recovery team would arrive soon. Until then, he would just have to look for living patients on his own.
A doctor's work is never done.
~~~
When you awoke, you felt heavy. It was dim in the medbay and all was quiet, save for the occasional beeping of the biobed. You attempted to sit up, but winced the moment you put pressure on your arm. From the shoulder down, your limb was covered in bandages. You felt a deep ache all the way through your body and decided it was best to lay back down.
You tried to remember how you ended up here, but everything after the initial attack was a blur. You remembered the grumpy doctor, you remembered him mentioning your dissertation, he said something about pretty eyes, and you remember being so tired, but trying so hard to focus on him.
You looked around the room, hoping there might be a nurse nearby. Instead you found a room full of people sleeping in biobeds. There was a light on in the office at the end of the room, but you had no way of knowing if there was actually someone inside.
You scanned the controls to your left until you found a call button. Once you pressed it, you heard shuffling in the office. Much to your surprise, Dr. McCoy came shambling out.
"It's about time you woke up," Leonard took a look on your screen to check all your vitals. As you watched him, the events of your last encounter came flooding back. Distinguished forehead wrinkles? Seriously?
"Your heart-rate is kicking up," Bones smirked "Is that because of me?" He joked.
You rolled your eyes, "how long was I out?"
"About forty-eight hours."
"Two days?!"
"Better keep it down darlin'. Don't want to wake the neighbors." He slowly raised the bed into a sitting position and handed you some water.
"Thanks," you said hoarsely, "I didn't even realize I was thirsty."
"That's what I'm here for." He grunted as he copied some data from your biobed to his PADD.
"Bringing me water?"
"Keeping you from dying of dehydration," Bones corrected.
"Aw, and here I thought I had my own personal butler," you smiled and sipped your water. 'He really does have pretty eyes,' you thought while watching him work. Who were you kidding? It wasn't just his eyes that were pretty, it was all of him. You cleared your throat and took another sip. "Anyway, what are you doing here so late? I didn't think you worked gamma shift."
"I normally don't, but there are a lot of reports to file and not a lot of time to do it."
"That bad huh?...How many dead?" You asked softly.
"Fifty-six," Leonard sniffed pulled out his kit.
"Damn... and what about the pirates?"
"In custody back at Yorktown." Leonard administered a hypo into your arm. The soreness melted away almost immediately, but the ache in your chest didn't.
"I would have been one of them if it weren't for you..." You whispered. "You didn't give up... even when you should have."
"Any doctor worth his salt wouldn't give up on the likes of you, not when you were so keen on living. Ain't seen nothing like it in a long time. Your body just kept going long after it should have shut down." Bones explained, "And you kept telling me it was hopeless, but I could tell you were hoping for a miracle."
"So you gave me one," You smiled up at him.
"I told you I would. They don't say I have legendary hands for nothin'," McCoy smirked.
"Still, thank you for not giving up on me," you laughed. "I definitely owe you one."
"Ask out that doctor of yours and we'll call it even," Leonard spoke so casually, you nearly didn't register what it was he just said.
"I-I- my what?" You asked, dumbfounded. Your heart-rate picked up again and Leonard couldn't mask his amusement.
"You should get some rest, Nurse Chapel will be by in a few hours with some food for you. We're putting you on a soft food diet until your internal wounds heal some more. If you need anything before then, you know where the call button is." Bones started back to his office, but stopped just short.
"Oh, and Y/N?"
"Y-Yeah?"
Leonard sent you a smug look. "I like daisies," He said before disappearing behind the door.
You laughed and rested your head on your pillow. 'Daisies huh?' You thought to yourself. You weren't sure how you were gonna pull that off this far from Earth, but if Dr. McCoy could perform miracles, why couldn't you? Of course, the flowers would have to wait until you were released from medical care. You didn't mind too much though, Dr. McCoy was going to be there to take care of you.
And he wasn't giving up on you anytime soon.
....................
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Thank you for reading!
#bones#bones x reader#leonard mccoy#leonard mccoy x reader#star trek#star trek fanfiction#star trek x reader#x reader#bones mccoy#mccoy/reader#leonard mccoy star trek#leonard mccoy x injured reader#reader fanfiction#reader insert
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Okay so this Morgie/Hook pic is draining me 🙏😔
I’m not even CLOSE to being done. I think I’m gonna take a break from this bad boy and work on a comic inspired by my small conversation with @kori-xo it make take a bit cause I can never stop editing comics 🥺
I willlll get into my version of Morgie and Hook 😻
This is Killian James Hook he is a rich kid who ran from home and eventually became the first lost boy. He ran away from home for 5 months ADT (Auradon time) but for him it was Five years NVRLT(Neverland time) He actually does miss his parents but he’s made friends with Peter Pan, the newest lost boy; Pete is an abandoned kid so he doesn’t understand why Hook missed his rich kid Lifestyle.
Eventually Hook returns home promising he’ll be back and never leave again, but he stays for two months, and his parents trick him into to believing he got a full ride to the Prep school he always wanted to ( they actually paid for it but Hook is stupid during his young teen times) He returns to Neverland to explain, but Pete is not understanding at all. He’s gotten new kids to join him and he cuts off Hooks right hand, feeds it to a croc and forbids him from ever returning to Neverland as he’s a “betrayer”.
Hook couldn’t beat him because he had no training in swords or fighting, Hook is so absolutely pissed off he decides to peruse a degree in Piracy and Swordsmanship and his desire for revenge becomes more blood thirsty as he grows older. He is 19 when he meets the OGVs (original villains) and they attend the same uni. Consider this a more aged up Merlin’s Academy setting.
He loves Morgie and Maleficent, he respects Uliana a lot, and he and Hades have a very “charged” rivalry if you get what I mean… everyone says the vibes are strong when they argue but if you ask them they say just hate each other soooo much. Speed running some things Hook goes for 12 months (12 years on NVRLT) to kill Peter Pan but he accidentally has Harry with some rando, I can’t think of who I just know it was an accident because Hook had “needs” and you know how that goes…and has to bring him home so he’ll actually grow beyond a actual infant. Maleficent threatens to curse Harry if she isn’t invited to ALL his birthdays with her and Hades new baby Malll💖
Morgie la Fay is the child of Morgana, the sibling of King Arther of Camelot fame. Morgana was not born with her expansive list of powers and witch craft and inflicted her body with dark primordial magic. This causes her to become unable to bear her own children, so using her blood she does some dark magic and creates Morgie after many months of bloody sacrifices and chantings. Morgie was born a horrific, lanky, fanged, pure black beast, with yellow eyes of a serpent and a long tail. He crawled on all fours and instead of baby gabble, he made guttural crows and coed often.
I’m sure you guys would find him cute, I just haven’t finalized a design yet… Arther and Merlin also had children… Archie and Marvin respectively. Morgana wanted Morgie to be close to his cousin so she presented as reformed. Arther actually accepted 💀 and eventually Morgie came into his own developing the red haired form you see above at around five years old. Marvin doesn’t like Morgie but of course Archie loves his cuz and thinks he’s the coolest primordial beast witch thing ever.
Eventually they all attend Merlin’s school and Morgie meets Hook, instantly adores him of course… Morgie chooses black smithing as his masters and he forges with gold enchanted with dark soul energy. He actually crafts, as a graduation present, a new golden hook, sword, and pocket watch for Hook.
He has a whole host of dark and ancient abilities but he still really dum so he doesn’t think quick enough. I’m having Marvin trap Morgies mom in an infinite loop of death and revivals . Which makes Morgie want to take over Camelot so he can free her. So for a 10 period after Harry turns 4 Morgie goes off to Camelot to terrorize it. He only returns after Jay and Carlos , who were looking at territory options for Mal, disturbed the small cave he was resting in. He chased them across the sea to the shores of the isle ( in his eldritch form) where Hook resides with his son. Before stoping once he recognizes Harry and reunites with Hook.
#digital art#fanart#original art#descendants#disney#disney descendants#harry hook#harry hook fanfic#carlos de vil#carlos descendants#uliana descendants#mal descendants#malificent#james hook#james hook descendants#James hook fanfic#morgie le fay#descendants morgie#rise of red fanfic#rise of red fanart#rise of red#disney fanfiction#descendants fanart#hades descendants#descendents 2#mal bertha#carlos di vil fanfic#descendents fanfic#digital illustration#jay son of jafar
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can i be riverpilled on main for a sec. if jughead has been controlling the narrative all along - which tbf we were told in the first five minutes of the show - then it makes sense that both betty and veronica are not representative of themselves, actually, but rather of himself. if we are to believe the story of riverdale, then two things are true: 1. that jughead has been in love with archie this whole time and 2. that jughead himself never wanted to be part of the narrative. think about it - each season, apart from 1 and 3, involve some kind of death/death threat for jughead (serpent battle, stonewall preps, rat…king? dead and sent to heaven for sabrina to retrieve him, literally booted out of the narrative). however, someone is still required for him to project his feelings onto. if you believe that riverdale is a story starting with the real events of jason’s murder, jughead takes on the role of investigator/narrator. this means he needs someone else to be the love interest: enter betty. someone he would’ve known since forever, and so all of sudden, as jugheads story starts, betty “réalisés” she wants to tell archie she likes him -> jughead’s own crush coming to light / vs. veronica coming to town and immediately catching archie’s eye (AND she resembles him, dark hair, dark clothing, pretentiousness galore) -> jughead wanting archie to want HIM. all of this explains why betty and archie never really click in s5, why betty repeatedly takes the chance to kiss archie despite her friendship with veronica being at stake (what jughead would do, if he could) why veronica cannot handle loneliness, why a lot of the time neither betty or veronica’s actions match up to the personalities that they actually have -> betty is repeatedly made out to be a “hero” struggling against her internal demons/serial killer genes despite everything that would condemn her as a bad person/friend whereas veronica tries to be better and still falls short at every turn -> representation of repressed homophobia re: how not confessing makes him feel better about himself, like he’s doing archie a favor vs. even thinking that he would LIKE to date archie makes him “feel evil”. in the end, betty and veronica don’t even actually care about archie, romantically; the one person betty misses more than anyone in the last episode is veronica (her long lost love) and veronica throughout the series spends more time trying to figure out what would actually make her happy even though she has archie and that should supposedly be the answer; this is their actual characters breaking through the shell of projection given to them by narrator!jughead. of course, this would’ve been solidified if cole sprouse wasn’t a coward and kissed kj apa on screen in the finale but you know what they say about the absence of a thing .
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Even more things I learned about the sea 3 from Uma’s wicked book
Which I bought with my own money despite being in high school and very much not the target demographic
Uma:
- the feather in her hat is a raven’s feather
- punched a shark and lived to tell the tale
- got a love letter from a goblin once…she rejected him
- her D2 jacket is made from an armchair
Harry:
- got put in the stocks for two days after committing grand theft auto (he stole Cruella Deville’s car)
- the proudest his father has ever been of him was when he got a C average on a report card as a kid
- started the “scammers and pickpockets club” at serpent prep, he is also the president of the club
- wrestled a crocodile and won
-Cruella waited an indeterminate amount of time to send her henchmen after Harry to put him in the stocks…sort of just freaking Harry out as a threat
Gil:
- likes listening to his dad’s stories
- it took him five hours to rig up the fairy lights on the lost revenge
- got in trouble for shooting arrows into the wall of his father’s shop
- holds at least some actual malice towards former king beast
Again, do with this information what you will
#disney descendants#harry hook#gil descendants#disney#descendants 3#I didn’t know Gil was capable of hate#I find the image of Harry in the stocks rather numerous#uma descendants#sea three#gay pirates
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Isle landmarks
Port - divided in between three crews, heavily regarded as a very unpleasant area by, well. Almost everyone else. (Important to note: this goes for every single area of the Isle.) Lives at night a lot.
Jolly Roger of Captain James Hook
Scattered Hope of Captain Harriet Hook. Comparatively safer to be around, you might find some goods "accidentally left out" if the Captain's feeling it.
Lost Revenge of Captain Uma Triskelion. Safest of the pirate ships unless you are allied to Mal or insult Uma. (...You know what, I take that back.) Also, it's a cult.
Chipp Shoppe. Firmly under the rule of Lost Revenge.
Hook's inlet. That's a fancy name for a building that port adults go to pass out in by the morning at that brings substantial money to Captain Hook. (His kids are not allowed to work there. They kept stealing from the counter more than they sold.)
Serpents prep, aka the school Captain Hook was forced to fund after dr F refused to deal with two if his children at once. They've got sea ponies and surprisingly good curriculum.
The centre. Counts as, well, semi-neutral territory?
Tremaine salon. The only actual neutral territory on the Isle. You see, if you fight by the Tremaines, you won't get your hair done. (this works because the Villains and their kids are vain as fuck and value their style over their lives. Literally.) Also, Tremaines treat most of their customers as particularly annoying cats.
Mad Maddy's Apothecary. This could count as neutral territory but Mim's are playing favourites. One rule: Do NOT make out in the Apothecary.
Rose Garden of the Queen of Hearts. Yeah no. Do not go near if you like your life.
Dragon Hall, AKA the school Dr Facilier funded for very innocent and inconspicuous reasons that have nothing to do with the other Villains owing him for babysitting their brats and molding the young minds to his picture, how dare you even suggest that.
The Arcade. Funded by Dr F too and operated mostly by his daughters. Also no ulterior motives on this one. (If little kids don't come to school, they're at Arcade. It's always good to know where the kids you're paid to keep alive are.)
Storm Hall. A mostly abandoned building slightly off-the-centre that Isle kids use for official gang meetings.
Frollo's church. Later, it's ruins. The building has suffered from entirely natural structural instability ever since the first Isle kids learned what matches are. While Frollo's alive, it's unsafe to be around if you're a girl, person of colour, or of magical heritage.
Yes, there is a problem of Frollo's being entirely too close to Dragon Hall. Dr F had it under control! Really!
The Market. Yeah. Market. With very reasonable prices that are not theft at all.
Maleficent's Bargain Castle overlooks the market and her goblins provide security for shopkeepers who are willing to pay a steep price. No one's sure why Maleficent tolerates the market so close, she hates people.
Jafar's Junk Shop. If you lost something, there's like seventy percent chance it'll end up there. I've got nothing else to add.
Gaston's Duels Without Rules, slightly off the main market. And yes. It is without rules. Do not ask about the blood under the dumpsters please.
Hell Hall. Few streets down but still close enough, you'll know by the screaming. Close enough for Cruella and her minions to get the finest fabrics whenever she wishes.
Witches Academy. Yes, it is entirely too close to the market for how flammable the stands are. However, the Mims are doing what they do best and being bitches on main.
Landmarks
The End Of The World. Steep cliff on the off-side of Auradon, favourite hang-out spot for Isle kids. Who says they hadn't spent hours there looking into the waves and contemplating life, they're lying.
The Skull Rock. On the Isle for Reasons. Y'know, a generation of kids robbed off their childhood? Magic banned off? (The Isle of the Lost is Neverland and it's your problem now.)
The Jungle. No. Do NOT. You do realise that's where all the tigers and snakes and lions and wolves dwell. Also called the Zoo by kids who like dark humour and/or have a deathwish.
The Caves. There's an entrance to Hades' cave somewhere. Do not try to find it (unless you are Celia Facilier), he's on vacation and doesn't wish to be disturbed.
Other
Castle Across the Way. Is not close to the centre or the market to be counted as such. That's because the Evil Queen refused to interact with the commoners and looked substantially scarrier than Lady Tremaine while communicating that.
The Hun camp. Do NOT attempt to find it.
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