#he would absolutely unhinge his jaw like a snake and swallow it whole like a cartoon character don't lie

[jaratedeguadalupe]

Virgil: I can’t believe we’re stuck in this room together

Janus, swallowing the key: yes truly unfortunate

[journey-to-the-attic]

Well that’s terrifying, glad you came out of it alright!

For au distraction, with pet zoo, do you think when entering the Devildom the brothers carried over any behaviors? Like you mentioned Lucifer once almost attempted to intimidate his reflection—would that still be an impulse for a time?

Also for creatures class, would Professor Elderflower still classify IK as a rabbit? …would she even be expected to turn in a school work as a sheep?

oh i LOVE imagining the troubles the brothers have getting used to being bipedal again and defaulting to their animal behaviours, so yes i'm absolutely making that a thing! lucifer catches himself glaring at his own reflection several times - one time it's while he's in demon form, and he instinctively flares his wings the same way he did while he was a peacock. he is very glad no one was around to see that

satan still impulsively shoves things off tables, so they will be sitting around the dinner table, then hear a loud CRASH, and everyone slowly turns to look at him sitting innocently next to a shattered plate. it keeps happening for so long that they've convinced he's just using the cat thing as an excuse now

levi is so used to only needing to eat once a week as a snake that he nearly passes out from hunger the first month back, and even after that he has this weird impulse to just. swallow his food whole. sometimes he misses being able to do that unhinging thing with his jaw, because dang did it feel good to yawn and reset it

also there is something so funny about professor elderflower looking at this little sheep and STILL going "ah yes……. you are a rabbit" (though for lore reasons, since they go based off of souls and weird spirit stuff, ik would still get assigned the same thing!)

in terms of schoolwork... diavolo and lucifer would attempt to set something up, but it's all so fiddly that they just sort of give up and assign ik the role of teaching assistant instead. they give her these little enchanted saddlebags plus a ribbon for identification, and within a week she is beloved by the whole r.a.d. faculty for her fluffy charm and helpful document-fetching

[shinebrightlikeanarwhal]

Travis, Sal, and the Gang get kidnapped by demons to "entertain them by making them fight demon, not knowing that by capturing Travis, they drug along the red-eyed demon, who has been training Travis to use his power, and Travis being a menace, decides to have fun with the demons they're technically all sent to fight.

Absolute powerhouse Travis with this like only black mouse that sits on his shoulders with bright red eyes.

The rest of the gang are terrified after being told they were pretty much food for demons. Meanwhile Travis is feeding Red some crackers he had in his pocket and giving the nicest chin scratches to what may as well have been demonic royalty. The lesser demons thought he would be a good example and threw him into a ‘battle pit’ with some grotesque beast like demon.

Thé démon laughed and took the time to try and make fun of Travis. The jovial demonic event would end in tragedy when red broke out of their mousey form and swept through the crowd in a mist of pain and torment. Ripping off limbs and gouging out eyes. The demon stuck with Travis watched in terror when brown eyes flickered into a bright red and he melted into the shadows.

Probably the scariest thing Travis has ever done was re-emerge from the shadows and claw out the demons throat while mimicking their dead mother. As I said before, he’s a bastard. He will maim the demons watching and waiting while eviscerating the ones sent to handle him.

Sal just covers his eyes while Todd tries to understand how half of the shit he’s doing is possible. Larry and Ash just think it’s fucking metal. This angry church twink with demon powers is beating up and tearing a bunch of demons to shreds. WITH a demon that has been terrorizing their town/WORLD for years!

At one point I’m certain The red eyed demon called in some of their friends to play ball with one of the demons they wanted to use to kill the kids and they toss it around like a ball. Like a bunch of cats smacking around a toy. It was… terrifying when they tossed it to one and the demon unhinged their jaw like a snake and swallowed it whole.

Sals therapist will hear ALOT about this.

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

May I hear more about transformation viper Janus?

Absolutely

Bare with me as every single thought in my adhd brain stumbles over each other trying to be the first one out

Janus’s egg was laid by one of the miners’s companion beasts before they left.

Transformation vipers can reproduce by sexually and asexually, and are completely asexual before they bite something (basically Janus stole Virgil’s gender). Asexual reproduction is how you get new transformation vipers (genetically identical), sexual reproduction will produce offspring that are not transformation vipers (i.e. they are the offspring of whatever species the parent viper stole genetic material from).

Co-opting genetic material from another organism is how transformation vipers diversify their gene pool. After genetic material is obtained, the original genetic material of the viper rewrites itself to be compatible with the new material (i.e. Janus’s genetic material became DNA so as to match Virgil’s)

(Side note: I don’t think aliens would have DNA, or at least it would be unlikely that they did, as their genetic material since life on other planets would have evolved completely separately from our own)

The eggs of fledgling vipers are thick and turn into the armor along the fledgling’s back when they hatch. Fledglings are capable of recreating their eggs by coiling up, this helps attract predators for them to bite; it doesn’t need to be a predator though, they’ll bite anything that moves and gets close enough; technically they could bite plants (or plant-like organisms as once again, life would evolve very different on different planets and the kingdoms of life might look very different), but since they look for movement, it’s uncommon.

The fledgling stage ends soon after it bites something, and therefore adds to its own genetic material. A transformation viper can bite many things during its fledgling stage, but as soon as it bites one thing, the transformation has already begun.

Basically, transformation vipers can’t reach maturity and still be a completely pure transformation viper

Janus bit Virgil, and then Virgil took great care not to allow him to bite Patton or the twins (he didn’t want to have to figure out a three-way hybrid child).

At any point in their life, transformation vipers are capable of unhinging their jaws and swallowing things whole, this is how they eat without incorporating their food’s genetical material. (Side note: this means that Janus wasn’t trying to eat Roman, and since he also didn’t bite Roman, we know that all he wanted to do was suck on the weird binky thing.)

After their fledgling stage, vipers tend to develop similarly to the young of their new genetic material donor (other than that they always hatch out of their egg), so Virgil has more or less a human baby who needs to be cared for in the same way as a human baby.

After their fledgling stage, vipers can no longer make dramatic changes to their genetic material, but they can still benefit from biting other organisms. They can gain immunity to illnesses, or better night vision, or the ability to hold their breath for longer, etc. Small changes that don’t really require changing their whole physiology.

Baby Janus is a terror to everyone on Eco-6 (eco for ecology cuz I’m so funny), not only is he a cute little baby, but he’ll bite you if you pick him up (he’s a little more resistant than a human baby, but he does cry when people drop him on the floor).

He will always be yellow and snake-like, leading some aliens to believe that that’s just a normal variation of human, or that Virgil reproduced with a very interesting alien species (which… he kinda did, just not like that).

Janus will develop through infancy faster than a regular human baby (cuz he’s already had his infant stage), but his childhood and adulthood will be fairly normal lengths (though he might live longer than a regular human for a variety of factors including that he’ll pick up immunity to various diseases along the way).

Janus will lay a few eggs later in his life that will be genetically identical to his fledgling stage. Most adult transformation vipers just leave the eggs where they are, as parenthood is not in the transformation viper’s nature; some will continue to look after the eggs if parenthood is particularly strong in their new genetic material, but even then they’re more likely to look after their sexually produced young than their asexually produced transformation viper young; even other transformation vipers who have achieved sentience through transformation will often leave their eggs where they’re laid as their instincts tell them to do.

Janus, being a scientist’s son, will probably keep his young, and maybe study them if it doesn’t hurt them too much (this is also an ethical dilemma for him as his young are technically feral animals. He could have them bite other humans so that they become like him, but is that unethical? Unnatural? On the other hand, if they bite, for example, a pog, then they’re basically just pets, but they’re also his biological children. And now I’m thinking about it too much so it’s time to move on).

Fledgling transformation vipers do not bite other transformation vipers (fledgling or otherwise), it’s one of their few natural instincts.

(Side note: transformation happens when bacteria find DNA just like, loose in the environment and then incorporate it into its own genetic material; conjugation happens when one bacteria donates DNA to another bacteria, and is initiated by the donor. What transformation vipers do is basically conjugation in reverse, so I figured transformation was the closest equivalence. The DNA was technically in his environment.)

I think that’s all I’ve got. I’ll post more later if I remember something

[vukovich]

peculiar prompts: fuck or die, but their dicks get bigger every second

A Mounting Problem

"Don't eat those." Ron came around the bend in the trail. Draco scoffed and picked several more scarlet berries, adding them to the pile in Harry's outstretched shirt.

"They're wild cherries," Harry said.

"This," Ron swept his arm out over the lush valley, "is an old wizarding land preserve." He pointed at the thorny bush. "And those are twiggenberries, not cherries."

Draco stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry. "Are, too."

"What would you know about foraging, Malfoy? You hadn't eaten a meal outdoors until this week."

Draco scrunched his face up and mimicked Ron.

"Fine." Ron adjusted his pack and side-stepped around them. "Don't be late to the top of the rise. And don't eat those berries til you're back home. Alone."

"Yes, Father," Draco said snidely to Ron's retreating back.

Harry pretended to gag.

"Heard that!" Came Ron's voice.

--

Harry swatted a mosquito against the inside of the tent and shot Draco a triumphant grin, but Draco's attention was on the bag of berries in his lap.

"Ron said not to eat those here."

"Ron says a lot of things. I'm hungry." He crossed his outstretched legs over his sleeping bag and Harry wondered if he shouldn't hand-feed Draco.

"Someone failed to guard the camp from raccoons." Draco popped a big, glossy berry in his mouth. "And someone cost us what smelled like a wonderful crockpot of chili."

"I said I was hanging back to take a nap, and I did. I didn't know none of you latched the crockpot." Harry rolled onto his side and clicked a small lantern on. "Give me one."

Harry opened his mouth and flicked his gaze back and forth between the berries and Draco's eyes. Draco let him look like a confused fish for a few moments before selecting a berry.

They were large, for wild berries. Almost like small plums, but a bit more pointed at one end, and deep red. Draco traced it over Harry's bottom lip before shoving it in, and then followed with his fingers for good measure.

Harry grunted in surprise, but sucked Draco's fingers clean before biting into the berry. It popped open in a rush of cloyingly-sweet bubblegum, and broke against the roof of his mouth like an overripe grape. He grabbed a bottle of water from the foot of his sleeping back to dilute the overwhelming taste.

Draco smirked and shoved what had to be his fourth or fifth one into his mouth.

"You can have the rest," Harry said, capping his water and laying down.

He clicked off the light, and Draco sealed the bag and laid down next to him. Harry started drifting off almost immediately, but Draco tossed and turned.

Harry cracked an eye and was met with Draco's eyes glinting in the filtered moonlight. "Do you think they're awake?"

"Ron and Hermione?"

"No, the wampus cats. Of course Ron and Hermione."

"Probably not. I think they hiked twelve miles today. Why?"

Draco walked fingers over their sleeping bags toward Harry's chest, and then diverted southward.

"No reason..."

"They're heavy sleepers."

"Mm hm..."

Draco tugged at the drawstring on Harry's pajama bottoms. Harry bit back a smile and let him pick at the knot until Draco started muttering swear words under his breath.

Harry rolled on his back and unceremoniously shucked his pants and pajamas off, and threw his t-shirt on the pile at the foot of his sleeping bag.

He couldn't read Draco's expression, so he clicked the lantern back on. Wonderment. Draco was staring at Harry's dick in absolute wonderment. Harry was flattered, then aroused, but then mildly alarmed, because Draco just kept staring.

Harry glanced down and didn't see anything more interesting than his own erection, and still Draco watched it, and Harry watched him. But... why would he be hard already?

Harry wrapped a hand around his semi-hard dick, but his fingers only just met around it. That wasn't right.

Draco tilted his head to one side. "I think those were psychedelic berries."

"Oh, shit," Harry whispered. He worked his fist over the head of his cock, just in case this turned out to be a really good trip. "Oh... shiiiiit. How many did you eat?"

"Five?" Draco licked his lips. "Your dick looks bigger."

Harry stopped stroking. "I think it is bigger."

Harry's thumb and middle finger couldn't touch, and felt like they were actively being pushed way. The skin of his cock grew achingly tight and over-sensitive.

"Shit. What do we do?"

Draco scooted closer. "I can think of several things to do."

Panic rose a cold sweat over Harry's chest. "What should we do?"

"Again, I can think of-"

"RON!" Harry shouted.

A rustle in the other tent, followed by a groan, and "Wassit?"

Draco leaned down slowly, eyes on Harry, sneaking his mouth closer to Harry's dick and fooling no one.

"What do those berries do?" Harry shouted, then swallowed a whimper as Draco's lips spread over the head of his cock.

"The fuck you think a twiggenberry does?" Ron grumbled. An owl hooted nearby. "You didn't eat one, did you?"

"Uhm." Draco's tongue against the tight-stretched skin was already too much. "Yes."

"Guess it could be worse. You gotta get somebody to help you blow your load before your dick drains your blood supply." The owl hooted again, and it sounded rather concerned. "Doesn't work if you do it on your own."

Draco slurped enthusiastically and winked.

"Sounds like you've got it under control. And I've got ear plugs. Good thing you only ate one. G'night."

"Ron! RON!" Harry tugged Draco up by the hair. "Shit. Now what?"

Draco held Harry's gaze while he slid his tongue out and prodded Harry's dick with the tip. "Mm?"

Harry nodded and tried to relax as Draco's mouth enveloped him. He blew out a long breath and forced himself to not think about anything but the wet heat sliding over his cock. Not about dying with an enormous dick hanging out. Merlin help him if Dumbledore met him on a platform in this condition.

Draco shifted, snuck a hand in his own pajamas, and moaned around Harry's cock.

"Fuck," Harry whispered. Draco's shoulder shook as he stroked himself in time to his mouth on Harry. He moaned again, and tension build at the base of Harry's cock. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

Draco wrapped both hands around Harry's thick length, and the pressure in his hips broke, spilling into Draco's mouth. Harry's breath shuddered out as Draco slowed, swallowed, and grinned at him.

"I've got something for you." He rose up on his knees and Harry's dick gave a feeble throb at the size of the tent in Draco's pants. "Roll over, size queen."

It wasn't that Draco wasn't well-endowed. He was... fine. But Harry's tastes ran... larger. A lot larger. Like the bludger bat of a cock Draco was wrangling out of his shorts.

Draco reached into a bag, then tossed a tube of lube on Harry's pillow. That dick was so perfect Harry could have cried. And he did.

Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Draco straddled Harry's thighs and plopped down, massive erection slapping against Harry's spent cock.

"Uhm... What's wrong?"

"I ate-" Harry sobbed. "-the chili."

"Okaayyyy..." Draco shook his head and waited for Harry to explain, but comprehension bloomed over Draco's face. "There were no raccoons?! Harry James Potter, you ate half a crockpot of chili and blamed raccoons?!"

Harry nodded and hid his face in the crook of his elbow.

"I HAD TO EAT BONER BERRIES FOR DINNER AND NOW YOUR VERY FUCKABLE ARSE IS FULL OF CHILI?!"

Harry nodded again. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, I am not putting my dick in that."

"I'm really, really sorry."

"I'll bet you are." He felt Draco's breath against his ear. "Sorry you're not getting your greedy little hole stretched open by this."

Draco pressed his cock along Harry's abdomen for emphasis. He ran his chin down Harry's jawline and sighed. "Wanker."

Harry moved his arms, sniffled, and snuck a kiss on Draco's nose before he sat back up. "I guess wanking, it is. I don't think I can fit it in my mouth."

Draco walked his knees up to Harry's waist and sat on his flaccid dick. Hard.

"I always had a theory that Parseltongues could unhinge their jaws like snakes."

Harry only half-heard Draco, because the dick sitting on his chest was fucking amazing. It was still Draco's, but huge. He would have gladly impaled himself on this beast of a dong, but no. The chili had smelled too damn good.

Draco flipped the cap on the lube open and emptied it out on what was rapidly becoming a third leg. Harry wrapped both hands around it, and the overlap of his fingers shrank as he watched.

He stroked, slow and steady, trying to keep a familiar routine in a very new situation. Draco's head lolled to the side, and his lips pressed against his own shoulder. Harry smiled softly and tightened his grip. Even full of dick-enhancing berries, Draco couldn't come without his lips against bare skin, even if it was his own.

Draco tilted forward, but caught himself. He wavered above Harry.

"I'm dizzy."

Harry looked up and met glassy, vacant eyes. His fingers barely met around the dick in his hands.

"Oh, shit." His mind raced. "Lay down. Lay down on me right now."

Draco fell forward, chest on Harry's face. Harry grabbed Draco's hips and pushed him down until their lips met. "Shit. Draco, stay awake."

Draco hummed against Harry's lips, and Harry stroked dick like Draco's life depended on it. Up and over the swelling head, thumbs working the underside of Draco's cock until Draco's back stiffened.

Cool lips found Harry's, and Draco whimpered, hitched, and the dick in Harry's hands throbbed. Hot rivulets flowed through his fingers, and he absently thought a cock that big should put out a whole lot more come than this.

Draco sighed into Harry's neck. "That was good."

Harry slid his hands out from between them and wiped them on Draco's arse. "That was close, is what that was."

"Mm hm."

"Are you just going to fall asleep on top of me?"

"Mm hm."

--

Harry woke at dawn to a startled owl hoot, a scuffle outside his tent, and then the walls of the tent shaking violently. He popped up on his knees to look through the mesh window.

The sun was just peeking over the treetops, and Hermione stood outside, hands on their tent, hair in a tight braid, dressed for a hike already.

"Get up, losers! We're going berry-picking!"

[shushiyuii]

Naga tommy pranking his family (who didn’t know he was a nags) with safe noms because he was hungry and completely forgot they didn’t know about him or safe noms, they think some random snake just came and ate them.

I FRIGGING DID IT, I MAY NOT HAVE WIFI BUT I DID IT. Well i may may not have gotten a bit angsty with this one buttt here it is!

Warnings: Vore, Unwilling prey, Angst ( ;3 just read it trust me)

Words: 1.9K+

He slithered throughout the forest, climbing through the trees and branches. Trying to find whatever prey he could as he was starving, it wasn’t an easy task to satisfy a naga’s stomach. Nor was it a simple task.

That was the thing he hated about being a naga, so many struggles such as hiding the fact you were a naga from your family! Which may not have been a smart task, but then again many people were scared of nagas so he’d prefer to keep his secret hidden.

But the thing is, he was absolutely starving and did not want to take whatever food his family had as they were struggling to get food from the recent shortage of food out in the wild, hence why he was struggling himself.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t eaten, he had breakfast with his family but with Naga’s they require a lot more maintenance than other creatures, requiring a lot more food than humans.

He had no idea how he had gotten away with it for so long, he kept up this secret for so long now, years. And not once had he slipped up, his family always thought he was out adventuring out in the forest and by the end of the day would hide his naga features to be found by either Phil, Techno or usually Wilbur.

When he was younger, his mom had raised him for a period, but one day got found by humans. So his mother, took him away to safety and told him this, “Hide from any humans, if you see any. Run.”. That was the last thing she had ever said to him, and he never forgot it.

After that he learnt to be independent and wild with instinct, since it was really the only way he knew to survive. And grew to hate humans.

That was all until he was found by Wilbur. One day who was singing by the roots of a tree, singing a tune when Tommy had spotted him.

He didn’t like the sight of a human but was entranced by the music the human was playing. So, he approached the human and hid his naga like features.

Wilbur looked over when he heard the shuffling of the bushes and saw a little runt boy, “Oh god. What’s a little guy like you doing in the forest?”. Wilbur came closer to help Tommy but he hissed and bit Wilbur, who surprisingly didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re a little odd ball, aren’t you? Don’t worry I’m not gonna hurt you! What’s your name?”.

“T-Tommy.”, “Nice to meet you Tommy, I’m Wilbur!”. Wilbur then took him home, gave him food and was accepted into the family, where he learnt human customs and went out to the forest to let out his wild instincts and couldn’t have it any better than that.

But now, he was starving, and he had no idea how he was going to keep charge of his instincts in check, because who knew what could happen when he lost control.

He remembered when he was younger, he kept conscious through the entire thing but, he didn’t know what would happen now, especially since it’s been years since that time.

But he could barely stop himself from snapping his head towards a slightly moving bush and pouncing on it. That was until he heard voices from a distance, yelling his name. What? What was his family doing here at this time?

He slithered through more trees, quickly seeing his family wondering the forest. “Tommy! Where are you?”, “Where is he?”, “No idea, hope we find him soon”.

Unfortunately for him, he felt his body begin to slowly slither down the tree and couldn’t stop it, Fuck. No. No. No. No.

This couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t, not now, not to his family. Please.

Soon he got to the ground, slithering on the floor just like a snake would, when he turned into a naga he was fairly a lot taller than his family. Which meant a scenario he did not wish to think of.

The family strolled throughout the forest for a while, looking for any sign of their missing relative, “Do you think he head home already?”, “Nah, way too early. He’s always out at this time.”. Techno turned his head as he heard rustle of a bush.

Wilbur turned along side Techno, “Tommy? Is that you?”. He asked, and he question was answered when Tommy pounced out of the bush and onto Wilbur, he wrapped his coils around Wilbur and tightened. Wilbur screamed in fear, which Tommy did not like as it hurt his sensitive ears.

“T-Tommy?!”, he yelped out as Tommy tightened his coils further, he answered with a hiss as he loomed more over Wilbur, “Tommy, mate?” He heard from behind him, Phil, his dad. Who he wanted so badly to hug in his coils and cry but he was way too focused on the prey in his coils, he doubt he could caught the looks of fear from either his and Techno’s faces.

Wilbur looked to Tommy with tears forming in his eyes, who looked to be so tight in his coils, he hated the sight. He never wanted to hurt them. He wanted to comfort Wilbur, let him know it would be okay, but the fact was that he was scared himself.

Techno seemed to snap back into reality as he ran towards Tommy and began to try and pry him off of Wilbur, but much to their dismay. Tommy striked at Techno, who luckily dodged but it didn’t help the face that he almost just bit his brother.

Unfortunately, that’s when he made his move and unhinged his jaw. That was when he placed Wilbur into his mouth, he licked at Wilbur, he hated to admit it, but he loved the taste, it was of a nice cinnamon.

He was terrified when he tilted his head upwards and swallowed. He didn’t want this; he didn’t want to swallow. He tried to take control of himself, but his hunger drove him mad, he could only rely on his animal instincts, not his humanity.

Soon, Wilbur went down his throat and into his secondary stomach. He hated the feeling, usually he’d enjoy it, but it felt so horrible when it was his brother. When he felt Wilbur tucked away his head turned to Phil, who looked horrified with tears in his eyes.

“Tommy, mate. Please. I know you don’t want to do this”. He slowly slithered closer to Phil, Techno following behind. He knew Techno was familiar with snake like behaviour and if he were to make a sudden movement, he’d strike.

He pounced again, coiling tightly around his father, he could feel Wilbur squirm and cry as he did, they were all scared. And just like Wilbur, Phil was swallowed down to join him. Phil was strong and gave a small fight, but it wouldn’t be like the next person.

His head snapped to Techno, his eyes dilated even more. He was going to get a hunt and he was excited about it, but on the inside; he feared what was to come.

Techno ran to get distance, and Tommy followed. He felt his body move slower than it usually would when actually hunting, he was playing with Techno, and he hated it.

Soon enough, he got bored of this game and scared the fuck out of Techno by pouncing on him and coiling tightly. He had never seen Techno so scared. He squirmed in the coils, Tommy struggling to get a good grip, having to tighten his coils so much. He hated how Techno looked as if he could barely breathe.

He loomed over Techno, he wanted so badly to say “I’m sorry” but his mouth wouldn’t move. He couldn’t say goodbye, the last thing he would see of his family was their terrified faces as he swallowed them whole. And then he’d be lonely again.

He felt Techno give a fight as he landed in the first stomach. Afterwards, he slithered under the shade of a tree, feeling his family cry and squirmed. He hated it. But he couldn’t control as he fell asleep, both physically and mentally tired…

…

He woke up, he didn’t feel anymore movements, he didn’t even want to move. He knew what had happened. He had no motivation to eat nor to live, he hated what he had done.

He coiled in on himself slightly, letting out soft sobs which soon turned into full on crying.

…

But his cries stopped as he felt soft movements, rubbing from his second stomach. He shot up, putting a hand to where his secondary stomach was on his tail, “Wilbur?! Dad?!”. There was hope in his voice, and he heard a voice, Wilbur’s. “Toms?”. The voice sounded tired, but no weak.

He hadn’t digested then, he felt the weight from the three of them, it hadn’t changed, they were fine, they were safe, tucked in.

“Oh shit, oh fuck. Are you guys, okay?!”. “Me and dad are fine, just tired.”, he poked at Techno, who groaned. He seemed to be sleeping. “Techno’s sleeping”. He snorted, finally able to have laughed after what had happened. “Typical Techno”, Phil laughed.

Soon there was silence, but not really a bad one as Tommy rubbed his stomach soothingly, hoping to comfort his family, “Toms?” Phil asked. “Yeah Dad?”, he answered. “How come you never told us you were a naga?...”, “I didn’t want to scare any of you”, he huffed, “But look what that lead us to”.

“What happened exactly?”, Wilbur asked , wondering what had happened throughout this whole thing, “Basically as a naga, I need to eat a lot more than you do. I need more food, hence why I go to the forest”.

“And because of the lack of food, you were struggling right?” Added Phil, “Yeah, I lost control. I didn’t mean to scare you guys like that I swear”, he rubbed more at his stomach in an anxious manner. “It’s okay Toms, we kinda just held on. Because we knew it was you and well, in reality you wouldn’t hurt us”.

They were probably right on that part, even with nagas, they were still a family kind of species. Even if they swallowed family, they’d be safe. He saw those three as his family, they were safe.

Tommy felt rubs come from the inside of his stomach, so he stopped himself and leaned, finally getting the comfort he wanted from his family. After a while he asked, “Do you guys wanna come out?”.

Wilbur snorted, “As much as it is warm and comfy in here, it’s tight so, yes please.”. And then he proceeded to let the family out of his stomach, even Techno who was now awake. They all stared at Tommy as he was now in his naga form, they couldn’t really get a good look at it for a while.

He was scared for a minute when he saw Phil’s smile and reached his hands out to his son, his face barely fitting in Phil’s arms, but he managed to give Tommy a kiss on the forehead, which his hair was then ruffled by Wilbur, and got a playful punch from Techno.

The four of them laid there then, Tommy’s head on Phil’s lap as he played with his hair and Techno and Wilbur using him as a jungle gym, he found it offensively funny. He loved his family.

[flowercrown-bard]

I wrote this in response to a comment from the amazing @thingr2 and I figured why not share it

pairing: Geraskier (pre-slash)

summary: The origin of Geralt’s brilliantly stupid selkimore-fighting-strategy of getting swallowed by it

word count: ~1k

content warnings: mention of blood and monster guts, briefly Geralt thinks he is going to die

The first time he was swallowed was an actual accident. For a moment Geralt thought this was it, this was where the Path ended for him.

It didn't.

He thought of the terrified villagers who'd have noone to defend them if Geralt didn't make it back. He thought of his brothers and Vesemir waiting for him at the keep and of how long it would take them to realise and accept that he wouldn't be coming back. Not this winter. Never again.

He thought of Jaskier. How Geralt would never see him again. How the last thing Geralt had said to him was that Jaskier should stay back, that he would only be in the way on this hunt. He had been right, of course, but that didn't change the fact that what flashed through Geralt’s mind now was the dejected look on Jaskier's face and a wave of regret.

He fought and he bled and he made it out. Somehow, he survived and dragged himself back to Jaskier.

No matter how scared Geralt had been when the monster's jaws closed around him, plunging him into darkness, it had been nothing compared to the look of pure terror he saw on Jaskier's face now.

"Geralt!" Jaskier's voice broke and his trembling hands hovered uselessly above him, unsure where to touch, where to begin searching him for injuries underneath the guts that covered him.

"I'm fine," Geralt said, forcing his voice to soften. All he wanted to do was get a bath to scrub the guts off and then fall into bed, but Jaskier looked so afraid. Afraid for him.Geralt couldn’t just ignore him, despite how tempting a bath sounded.

"What happened?"

"Fought the selkimore." Jaskier stared at him in ingredulous silence for so long, that Geralt squirmed uncomfortably and added, "Got swallowed."

"You what?" A disbelieving laugh escaped Jaskier. It wasn't exactly joyful, but it was better than the fear that had shimmered in his eyes just moments ago. "You're mad.” Jaskier said it as if it was something to be awed about. "You got swallowed by a selkimore and took it down from the inside. You're absolutely mad, you wonderful, brilliant witcher."

There was something in the way Jaskier looked at him, almost adoringly despite the disgusting way he looked right now, that set something off inside Geralt. An uncomfortable warmth that spread through his chest into every last part of him.

If he could have blushed, he was sure Jaskier could have seen the heat rising in his cheeks. Geralf needed this to stop.

"That's just how you fight them," he lied gruffly and pushed past Jaskier to the bath that was waiting for him. "The easiest way to get to the vulnerable weak spots."

He paused. He was lying out of his arse, but actually... Well, it had worked, hadn't it?

Shaking his head to stop those foolish thoughts, he dropped his clothes to the floor uncaringly and sank down into the water.

Cleaning himself off the guts was easier said then done. He grunted as he tried and miserably failed to get all of it out of his hair.

Something dropped on his haid, a gush of water from above. He sputtered and turned to Jaskier, a stormy expression on his face.

Jaskier just shrugged, not even looking sheepish. It seemed now that he could see for himself that Geralt's body was mostly unharmed, all nervousness had fallen away and left the bard brazen and idiotic as ever.

"Just thought you could need some help," he said with a shit-eating grin that didn't quite match his tone. The tips of his fingers were still trembling.

"By dumping a whole bucket on me?" Geralt wanted to scowl at Jaskier, he really did. But how could he keep the corner of his lips from twitching up when Jaskier's eyes were lit up with mirth?

"What else was I supposed to do? Tenderly wash your hair and massage your back? While you're covered in that? No thank you." He snorted. "Try coming back from a hunt a tad bit cleaner and I'll think about it."

Geralt grunted and turned away, but the damage was already done. The mental image of Jaskier's gentle hands on his body was already seared into his mind, as was the way his eyes crinkled with laughter as he needled Geralt about the made-up witcher-startegy of letting themselves get swallowed.

By the time Geralt was finished telling him the sparse details - it wasn't as if there was much he could have seen in the dark belly of the beast and even if he had been able to see he had been to distracted by not dying to remember all the details - Jaskier was full on laughing about the absurdity of it all.

It felt nice. Almost worth it. Not quite though.

That came later, when as they lay in bed, Jaskier was scooting closer to him, letting their arms brush so many times that it couldn't possibly be a coincidence.

"I'm glad you didn't die," Jaskier whispered into the dark, a hint of concern coloring his voice and Geralt felt his usually slow heart pick up its pace.

"Wasn't in danger," he lied. "That's just how it's done."

"Well, then, I'm glad that you witchers are a mad bunch that come up with ways to fight that don't put you in danger while also making for the best stories."

Geralt stayed quiet. He didn't move towards Jaskier, but he also didn't pull away when Jaskier's hand came up to play with his hair absent-mindedly as he drifted off to sleep.

-

The next time he met a selkimore, he thought of Jaskier before doing anything that could get him in danger.

He thought if his concern, his laugh and his shining eyes. He thought of the way Jaskier had clasped his shoulder as a goodbye and told him to "have fun getting swallowed again. And this time I expect the full report with a the grimy details." He thought about how maybe this time he would immediately get greeted by a loud laugh when Geralt saw him again. Geralt would still be tired and exhausted and possibly hurt, but Jaskier laughing was better by far than the memory of his fear from last time.

Geralt thought of the way Lambert would take the piss out of him for doing this and Vesemir would shake his head in disapproval but take notes when Geralt would see them next and tell them about this new way he had found of dealing with selkimores.

The beast roared, unhinging it's jaws like snake ready to swallow its prey whole. Geralt sighed, brazing himself.

"Fuck it," he said and lifted his sword before he jumped right into the monster's maw.

[dukesnukes]

Hypothetically speaking, if i were to feed an austrich egg to kane would he unhook his jaws like a real snake? Once again, hypothetically (i would also like to say that this not some weird fetish, im just curious)

HES FUCKING FERAL SO HE WOULD ABSOLUTELY TRY TO SWALLOW IT WHOLE LIKE A GOBLIN. HE CAN IN FACT UNHINGE HIS JAW!! ITS FUCKING TERRIFYING!

[bansheeoftheforest]

Jekyll not always fully understanding/remembering human customs at times because he was raised by an eldritch god. The first time he ate with another person, he nearly unhinged his jaw to swallow his meal whole like a snake but, just before he could, he saw everyone using knives and forks and quickly pretended that it was just a cough.

Hyde can also unhinge his jaw. Rachel once walked in on him just swallowing an entire chicken and immediately turned around and walked back out.

HFHFHFHFHFHSHSHAHSHJASDHASDHASHD

YES.

Like, sure, Henry got raised by humans/his parents for some parts of his life but most of it was still spent getting raised by dadritch, of course he would forget human customs a lot of times. No wonder Robert had to teach Henry how to properly smile since mouths probably aren't even a thing for most eldritch. I'd just... Love to imagine Henry absolutely devour every single thing he eats when people aren't watching. Like he devours an entire triple 10" chocolate cake in one go like nobody's business, he can and would swallow and entire deer for breakfast if he had the chance, but he will be so picky and dandy with his food when people are watching.

I can imagine Rachel seeing that and just walking right out so well. Like she doesn't bat an eye but she isn't going to bother with that. Like, Hyde wouldn't even hide it but he is somewhat eldritch because he is a summon but Henry is technically fully human so he would try to keep up an appearance more than Hyde. Just dhdhdh

[snake-noodles]

HEY SNAKE JANUS WRITERS!

I see a LOT of incorrect information when people depict Janus as “half-snake” so I want to clear some things up! And in case you’re wondering, I took a herpetology class and am basing most of my information off of my lessons as well as things I’ve learned outside of class! Warning this is a little long but if you want to learn more about snakes and write snake Janus more accurately, then here you go!

First of all, I believe (correct me if I’m wrong) that he’s based off of a ball python. It’s easy to assume that his vision would work as a thermal camera sort of thing, but that is not true! Ball pythons have heat pits, which are the holes along their mouths which sense heat, in particular body heat, so they can hone in on their prey. As for what colors they see, they have dichromatic vision, they can only see two colors. It's unclear exactly which colors ball pythons can and can't see, as we can't look through their eyes. But research suggests they can probably perceive blue and green. In general, ball pythons can’t see very well, in general snakes will rely on smell, but not always. A completely blind snake will smell and feel more, and if they have heat pits also rely on those. Ball pythons are short sighted, and also have trouble focusing on things that dont move. Side note: When a snake has slit pupils, it means they are nocturnal! Not all snakes are nocturnal, such as corn snakes who are diurnal and have rounded pupils.

Fang time! And teeth time in general. Actually Jaw Time. So, a snake’s jaw doesn’t actually unhinge. Instead, their lower jaw is in two parts that move independently to help them swallow their prey. In general their mouths and the muscle around it is flexible to help them swallow prey larger than their heads. All snakes have curved teeth, apart from egg eaters which have no teeth at all. Their teeth are curved back, and as a result they will always swallow things whole, they cannot chew. If a nonvenomous snake bites you, the most harm you’ll get is a few pinpricks unless it’s a rather big snake. The reason they have these curved teeth is to latch onto prey! Only venomous snakes have those front fangs, by the way! There’s also three different types of those fangs! - Rearfanged teeth and venomous fangs near the rear of the mouth, common in False Water Cobras and Hognoses - Front fanged venomous fangs are near the front, and what most people recognize.  - Rotating fanged venomous snakes have front fangs, that are hinged and retractable. They are most common in vipers, but can also be present in rattlesnakes, adders, and gaboon vipers.

NOW for the cold blooded nonsense. This is what bothers me the most, and I don’t blame any of you for getting this confused since I didn’t know this before either. Being cold blooded does NOT mean they are cold and will constantly seek out heat. Being cold blooded simply means that they don’t have a constant body temperature like we do, meaning they have to go to warmer or colder areas to level their body temperature. If a snake is in hot temperature for too long, it’ll overheat like any other animal. They’re more well known to like hotter temperatures, but they will seek out cooler areas to not overheat if they feel they’re getting too hot. If a snake is sick, though, it may stay in the heat and burn itself because of this. It’s true that snakes will get sluggish if it’s too cold, but depending on the temperature and the kind of snake it is, they usually won’t die. Snakes go through brumation, and during brumation you’d think they’d starve or dehydrate, but you’d be wrong. Snakes in general don’t move much, and are very opportunistic feeders, meaning if food’s there, they’ll eat it. But in brumation, they don’t have to eat because they aren’t moving much and that conserves their energy. They will move for water if they absolutely need it, but they can survive in cold temperatures despite what you may think. Unless it’s below a temperature they can survive at, then it’s an issue.

On the topic of feeding, usually a domesticated snake only needs to eat once a week or every other week. Again, they don’t move much unless they’re inquisitive, and again opportunistic feeders. With ball pythons though, because of their heat pits, will refuse colder food items. They need something warm to sense that it’s probably body heat depending on the food item.

I think that covers everything! At least everything I see in fanfiction and such :)! If you have any questions i’d be more than happy to answer for you! It was fun to write this and I hope you liked this! Herpetology is confusing, and fanfiction is fanfiction, so I don’t expect 100% accuracy, I just think this is fun and that some writers will benefit from this!

[krakensdottir]

Crowley snake headcanons

Because I’m bored, and I have a lot of these, and I’ve decided to compile them.

Crowley isn’t venomous. He could be, with a little effort, but he isn’t. Venom is for killing prey and as a last-ditch defense against predators, and he didn’t have to worry about either on Earth. As for Hell... yeah, it wouldn’t really be any help there.

He does however pretend he’s venomous in Hell. Like, if anyone asks. He’d be a laughingstock otherwise.

He doesn’t normally have fangs in human form, or a forked tongue, as fun as that can be in fanart. Both are absolute crap for any kind of spoken language. Can literally end up tying his tongue in knots. (Though again, he can manifest either if he wants to, but unless he’s trying to show up another demon or really scare the piss out of a human, there’s no point.)

He does not unhinge his jaw. Snakes do not unhinge their jaws. They have naturally flexible jaw hinges that basically stretch like elastic bands when their mouths open wide. If anything, if Crowley decided to swallow something really big, it’s his throat that would distend, because that’s really what limits us humans in terms of swallowing. Not really much need for that trick though, unless he’s trying to gross out Aziraphale I guess.

He’s not cold-blooded, only because he’s a demon and not an actual snake, and metabolic rates don’t apply to him. He still doesn’t care much for cold weather. He won’t freeze, but it’s uncomfortable. He’s used to warm, having spent his first few millennia on Earth in warm climates - and who knows how long in a pool of boiling sulfur, of course. England’s climate is miserable for him, but he likes the people and has become too attached to it as a home territory to be driven off by rain or snow. Anyway, he can miracle himself dry/warm any time. Turn up the internal infernal fires to keep out the winter chill, and so on.

He doesn’t snake very often these days. People used to be pretty okay with talking animals showing up out of nowhere. Now, not so much. And London isn’t made for giant snakes. He’s only ever done it recently at his own place, because sometimes it’s nice to let go of limbs once in a while. Heavy things, those.

He’s colorblind. Or rather, has dichromatic vision, like most reptiles (and most mammals, actually). He’s also pretty nearsighted and has trouble focusing on things like fine print, which is one reason he doesn’t read all that often. And when he does, he likes Very Big Books.

His eyes shouldn’t really be limited any more than his metabolism, but A. there’s only so much you can do with vertical slit pupils, which just aren’t made for that kind of focusing, and B. the eyes are something he clearly can’t control and I imagine there’s a price for that.

He doesn’t have heat vision because he’s a snake. Only some snakes can ‘see’ heat, and they use special pits in their faces, not their eyes. Crowley has infrared vision, though, just because it’s useful to demons. Probably ultraviolet too. Angels definitely see ultraviolet just fine. (Yes, Aziraphale can see bee colors. Enjoy that image.)

Likewise, his superior sense of smell is demonic, not snaky. Though habits are habits and sometimes, when no one’s looking, he will flick his tongue out to literally taste the air. It’s an embarrassing tic he’s mostly but not entirely shaken. Like hissing.

Speaking of, and this is a big one: the hiss is not a sibilant. Only cartoon snakes say ‘sssssss’. Like, that’s fun to write as a speech quirk, although I personally struggle with it when reading. But a snake’s hiss is an exhalation. It’s basically a sigh, that rattles certain structures in the snake’s throat, producing a different tone depending on species. In some large snakes like the king cobra, the sound could better be described as a roar. Anyway, when Crowley’s hiss comes out, it’s as an angry sigh - that goes on longer than a human’s and hits a very sinister, reptilian note no human throat would produce. It also occurs in the back of his throat while he’s speaking, and not as a consonant sound. His tongue is not involved. (The fact that he trips over his own tongue constantly is a whole other thing. That’s just... Crowley.)

His walk is also partly ‘just Crowley’ but to be completely honest, when he first took human form with Earthly matter, he might have gotten the pelvis slightly off. And might have slightly misjudged the number of vertebrae in a human spine. Bit of a nuisance, but every time he’s reincorporated has been identical, and even he isn’t sure if that’s down to his own innate stubbornness subconsciously insisting on a familiar form or the bloodymindedness of Hell. So... he goes with it. People think he’s just sauntering. That’s cool. No need to know about his slight ophidian mobility issues.

[obeymeluv]

Under Siege

The first and probably last time I will do something like this. It’s a choose your own adventure! This is like the set up; leads up to your first choice.

It goes like this: Set up -> choice -> ending.

Each choice goes to ONLY one brother, and maybe not the one you think ;).

Each choice has its own ending (one ending per choice).

I’ll make a mini masterlist as I finish the parts. I won’t be able to link anything, though. I tried to link things when I first started this blog and they didn’t work. They looked link but wouldn’t open up into anything.

I guess it’ll just help people find the choice they want? Sorry :/

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Imagine the Devildom being stormed by an outside army during the school year. It could be an army composed of secret children of the Demon King (Daddyvolo Sr.), or just different groups of lesser demons who feel they should have more power than they do. Think naga demons linking up with criminal lesser demons, summoners, dark elves, and dark fae. Just non-standard demons that are probably minorities in the Devildom or maybe used to call the Devildom home before it was solely for devils/demons.

Death comes by land and by sea. Some on creatures you’ve never seen before, some that were surely the inspiration for “And I looked and behold: a pale horse. And his name, that sat on him, was Death. And Hell followed with him.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Horror movies and apocalypse-style movies only kind of prepared you for what’s happening around you. It’s the first time you realize everyone really has been treating you with kid gloves. Out any window of RAD the sky is impossibly dark, the sky speckled with yellow and red---piercing eyes of creatures humans were never meant to see.

Probably the last thing you’ll see, because it is only when you realize how focused and murderous those eyes are that you hear the deafening sound of wings. Possibly thousands of wings. Hooves follow close behind, thundering across the land, and there’s a distinctly helpless feeling of being swallowed whole.

RAD, which is basically a castle, will be stormed and toppled.

A chorus of demon cries echo in the inky night, a sound that chills you to your core. It’s fear incarnate, something that strikes the most primal chord in your human body. The sounds aren’t human by any measure, but your brain translates the unmistakable I’m coming for you and the death therein.

Students with wings are unfurling them and warming up to shoot out windows in tornados of claws and fangs. Summoners are calling upon old favors from even older friends, pact mates that have served their families for generations. Others are casting charms on their friends and tearing pages out of books to cram in their pockets. Those capable of non-verbal magic are drawing sloppy sigils on anyone they can touch.

You’re struggling to recall any spell you’ve learned, to just not panic as you try to understand how everyone can be handling this so calmly. It helps being alive for thousands of years, doesn’t it? The absence of sirens or anything human-related that justifies the panic somehow makes things worse.  

You hadn’t been in the Devildom long enough to run any drills, but the demons around you seem to know what to do. You’re swept out in a wave of bodies, the general idea of moving out of confined spaces (the classrooms) into more open ones is most important right now. Bricks give away behind you—the demon forces are busting through the classroom walls. A haze of brick dust forms as students break off to fight or are physically separated by fliers. Someone in front of you is grabbed by a meaty fist easily three times the side of your head, and you’re surprised they have enough bite force to rip off a finger.

Between their bite and your terrified scratching, the student breaks free. You’re half-tossed by an impact that doesn’t quite break the stone. Or maybe that was a gust from nearby wings. Your head is spinning as you try to figure out who is friend and who is foe. Stone bits stab you in the hand as you stumble to your feet, tripping over one of the once-mounted iron torches someone tore off the wall.

Magic crackles in the air, a taste of lightning in your mouth. There is definitely fire, the burning smell seems to consume everything else. Your heart is pounding because any second someone will realize you’re just a human.

Will you be a war prize? A meal?

Your mind screams for you to summon one of the brothers. Any of them—all of them—but you can’t remember the words. You start running, lungs burning, and huge chunks of the incantation come back to you but you’re too scared to say them with your dry throat lest you summon something else. Two of the demons from Beel’s wrestling team force an orc-demon hybrid down and start tearing it apart with their bare hands.

It vaguely reminds you of the time the brothers idly mentioned choking demons out like it was nothing. Something is snapped off of it—a tooth? A horn? A claw?—and one hands it to you when they notice you’re still standing.

Anything is better than nothing for a human.

Your shaky fingers play along the thing—bigger than your forearm and almost impossible to grip all the way around—until your heart settles a bit. Your grip tightens, comforted by a semblance of preparedness. There’s chaos all around—screams of anguish, battle cries, spells firing off in the distance—and it hits you that no one would hear you if you cried out for them.

Hell, you can hardly hear yourself. The only reason you know your heart’s beating is because it takes up your whole body. You scoop up a fist-sized chunk of wall and duck a flying body as you try to reorient yourself. Something cuts across your back and the sting is enough to make you arch and cry out. Instinctively, you grip that chunk of wall and turn around in one swing.

It’s a demon with bloody claws and an unhinged jaw—part naga?—and you vaguely wonder if Beel can do that as you swing and keep swinging. Your brain is trying to focus and absorb everything at once. Did the blows land on its teeth or the face? Are you bleeding?

Something in you stops, captivated by the firelight and spells glinting in its teeth, and you’re gripped with absolute terror when you realize it paralyzed you. You looked at its eyes, not its teeth. Or maybe you were looking at its teeth and it moved its head down. As your hand grows heavy with the stone, your body relaxes into the tail coiling around and around your body. It lifts you towards its cracked, bloody teeth but before you’re swallowed something darts between you with lightning speed.

Blood sprays across your face and you don’t know if you wince or not. The snake demon falls one way, you fall the other way. Whatever it is, it sliced the demon snake’s throat and severed the tail just below your feet. Cussing and wriggling out of the coils, your heart stops again when you’re plucked from them like they’re not dead weight muscle. You’re grabbed by the front of your uniform and struggling to pull black-painted nails apart when gold tattoos catch your eye

Diavolo doesn’t apologize for the way he grabbed you, his blood-speckled chest heaving a little less than yours. His golden eyes shine with relief but no levity. It’s unusual and off-putting to see him so serious. So calm and calculating. Aware of the threads popping under his fingernails, Diavolo hauls you along like luggage as gold-tipped wings lash out like whips to clear the way.

He’s taken twists and turns as old as the castle itself. Ones only he knows, probably. The echo of chaos isn’t far away, and it won’t be long before someone finds the two of you. Diavolo pulls a female statue from the wall, setting it gently to the side. It melts into the section of wall, stone backing sliding away to follow it.

The bronze door looks old as time itself. There are several languages carved into it. He rearranges the languages until they resemble something you saw in Basic Sorcery and Sigils. “You’ll find whatever you desire here, and you’ll be safe.” Diavolo shoulders the door open, ignoring the dust and age that seeps out. You’re shoved unceremoniously into the room as he screeches at something down the hall; the very sound shakes your bones and is the epitome of do you dare challenge me? There are dull thumping sounds and crunching sounds.

Squishing sounds.

Then, nothing.

“I will come for you when it is safe. I do not lie.” He says through the door before absolute silence sets in.

You can’t hear as much from this room, whatever it is. It looked like little more than a storage closet, honestly. There were tables and shelves full of dusty things. Things in jars, piles of books, cloaks, sets of armor that seemed to span the centuries, and various weapons mounted along the walls.

The screams aren’t as loud but being separated and doing nothing is still hell on your nerves. “What if I want to help?!” you yell at no one, starting to feel the anger bubble up in you. You were angry at yourself for being able to do nothing besides run. Angry that you were stupid enough to fall for snake charms when the first thing Asmo told you was to never look a demon in the eye unless you absolutely trusted them. “WHAT IF I WANT TO HELP?!” you yell again, throwing the hunk of tooth-nail thing at the door.

The door groans on impact and your heart squeezes at the idea that you’ve somehow popped it open. Surely it would take more than that to undo Diavolo’s magic, right? What kind of room did Diavolo need to unlock with magic, anyways? The tooth-claw thing failed to leave a scratch but somehow you’ve awakened the languages again. They spin furiously and come together like mismatched newspaper ransom letters: Then pick

The room is alive. Books are sorting themselves, armor is assembling, and you squeeze yourself into a corner as all manner of items fly into the air. Tables separate from each other, leaving one to drag itself into the middle of the room. You approach to see a bejeweled dagger wrapped in red velvet and gold twine, an onyx necklace that shone with blue and green tones when held up to the light, a bundle of dried herbs wrapped in thorn braids, and a bramble crown flecked with gold and tangled in what appeared to be gilded bark gauntlets. As your hand hovers over the gauntlets a bow and arrow launches from the wall, skidding across the table and spinning to a stop.

You nudge them apart, too afraid to pick it up directly. Sensing space, a pair of strappy leather sandals walks from the back of the room and hop onto the table. Some kind of slip joins it, pouring over the shoes to reveal blades that had been coddled in the folds.

Wary of anything else coming to life, you browse the surrounding tables. Anything you reach for slides away. You try to pick something up and find it impossible. The mounted weapons hum in disapproval when you so much as move your hand over them. “Just the table then.” you say out loud. “Cool, got it.”

You look over the items again. There’s a dagger, a necklace, a bundle of herbs, a crown with gauntlets, a bow and arrow, and some magic shoes with accessories. Six things. “Almost one for each of the brothers,” you muse. Seven was a common theme in the Devildom, after all.

A beautiful gold sword drops from the wall and drags itself to the table. It has a celestial blue stone embedded where hit meets blade. The handle is wrapped in the same twine found with the dagger.

The door rattles violently and your heart leaps in your throat. Have you been found?!

It continues to rattle, and you can’t tell if it’s from the languages rearranging themselves or something trying to get inside.

NOW CHOOSE…

Time is running out. What do you grab?

[lovelyamneris]

George + Jerry, “The art of not being an idiot is extremely challenging for me.”

I've been hoarding this ask in my inbox for God knows how long I'm so sorry anon. Then I wrote like three quarters of it and posted about that and was immediately hit with writer's block. Here's my attempt at trying to write more seinfeld content for you <3

[Ao3 Link] [Full Series]

It’s early on a Saturday and Monk’s diner bustles with its usual crowd of regulars. George and Jerry are sitting across from each other in a booth by the window; George with a strawberry pastry and hot coffee and Jerry working on his third consecutive double espresso.

Sun pours in and blankets their table with warm early morning light. It’s intimate; in the way that drinking coffee every day with your oldest friend is intimate once it's a routine.

“So do you think that’s funny?” Jerry is asking, doting over a notebook of incomprehensible scribbles, “Are people allowed to laugh at that sort of thing these days or would it be considered a mood killer?”

Jerry is pretty sure that the audience wouldn’t throw tomatoes at him like he’s in a bad Shakespearian play, but stranger things have happened.

George half shrugs, “I don’t know. How would I know?”

“Well, I assumed as a fellow human being you’d have an opinion.”

“Comedy is subjective.” George says waving him off, “Just improvise or something.”

“Surprisingly harder than you think.”

The last time Jerry tried to improvise on stage the only person in the audience laughing was Elaine. And technically she was laughing more at his expense than she was at the joke. Cue the metaphorical tomato throwing. Jerry stares at his notepad and pouts. Why is it so difficult to figure out if his joke is funny or not? Kramer laughed, but perhaps that’s a bad sign.

A moment passes and when he looks back up from his notepad George is about five shades paler. Jerry recognizes the look immediately. It’s the ghostly expression of a man doomed to come face to face with the consequences of his own actions. Never a good sign for George.

“What’s wrong?” Jerry asks. Despite the courtesy of asking the question, he doesn’t seem too concerned by George’s sudden change in demeanor. He’s used to George’s sudden waves of panic. It’s like his default.

“Does that look like Lindsay to you?” George’s voice cracks.

“Psycho sadist Lindsay?” Jerry looks around the diner theatrically, “The one who thinks you got wacked by the mob? Where?”

“In our booth by the door.”

From where they’re sitting, Jerry can only see the side of her head, but it’s definitely Lindsay. She seems a lot happier than he remembers. Back when she was with George, she always had the face of someone who’s just accidently bitten into a lemon. Kramer even called her lemon face once, which was an awful moment for everyone involved.

“That’s her alright.” Jerry confirms, “What do you think she’s doing here?”

“I have absolutely no idea!” George shrinks down in the booth to hide from her, “She knows I get the diner in the breakup. It’s part of our pre-breakup agreement!”

“Ah, the pre-breakup agreement. The prenup of the dating world.” Jerry nods understandingly, “While I’d usually agree with you on that, I think faking your own death gives her a loophole.”

“I died while we were together!” George counters, whisper yelling. He looks awfully frazzled and generally insane, “She’s basically my widow. How does she think you feel having to see my widow at your favorite diner? It’s outrageous!”

Jerry considers this. Ever since the infamous incident with the fancy plates, he’s instinctively crossed to the other side of the street when he’s seen her in public. He’s not sure he’d be able to hold it together if she asked him about his best friend and said best friend’s terrible fate at the hands of the mob. Cracking a grin would probably not be an acceptable response.

And George is technically right. If he was actually dead, Jerry wouldn’t want to see Lindsay at the diner. It would undoubtedly cause a chain of events starting with him thinking about George and moping around about it (Jerry’s not sure he’s capable of moping, but he’s too afraid to find out) and ending with him being all sad and ruining his comedy routine. How are you supposed to be funny when you’re busy thinking about your dead friend?

Jerry relents, “Well, I can’t argue with that logic.”

“What do I do?” George panics, shrinking further down in the booth, “She’s going to kill me, Jerry!”

“I think you’re overreacting. So what if psycho Lindsay sees you? It’s the nineties. Is a dead man not allowed to have a strawberry pastry without persecution?”

George deflates, “You’re not taking this seriously. Lindsay is going to kill me and you’re making your little jokes about it. Great. Thanks a lot.”

“Hey, it’s not like you didn’t bring this on yourself. Even Elaine said she knew this would come back to haunt you eventually. It’s about time you face the music.”

George doesn’t think that sounds appealing at all. He’s gone his whole life avoiding the music. Why should he face it now! In fact, only people who have given up in life subject themselves to the music. If you’re still alive and breathing then it’s your God given right to avoid the music.

“How does Elaine know about the fancy plates?”

“Kramer told her.”

“How did Kramer know?!”

“I told Kramer.”

And of course. Of course, everyone in filled in and up to date on George’s suffering. He shoots Jerry a scathing look and Jerry returns it with a lopsided teasing grin.

Jerry glances down at his empty cup of espresso and frowns. The whole lemon faced Lindsay debacle has distracted him from what’s most important. Caffeine. He’s sure that the waitress is avoiding him because George is causing a scene. Or maybe Jerry is being cut off like he’s a drunk at a bar. Are they allowed to cut you off from caffeine? Is there an unspoken caffeine limit that only waitresses and baristas know about? He decides to investigate further.

Just as he's about to signal for the waitress, Jerry makes eye contact with Lindsay. Her face drops and suddenly she has that lemon faced expression about her again. Uh oh. Lindsay says something to her friend and gets up from her seat, making her way across the diner and towards them.

Jerry gives an enthusiastic wave, the type of wave that you’d give an old friend you’re seeing for the first time in a while. After all, Lindsay was always friendly to him. And she was one of George's most humor-inclined girlfriends! Maybe she'd be able to tell him if the joke was funny or not.

George stares at him in horror, “What? What’s happening?”

“Buck up, buddy, looks like she’s coming over.”

George makes a face like he’s been hit by a bus, but he defeatedly slides back up in his seat. Suddenly Lindsay is beside their booth, arms crossed.

“So, I’m guessing this is a Weekend at Bernie’s situation?” She asks. Jerry appreciates her humor. She seems pretty chill for someone who just found out that her boyfriend has risen from the dead.

“Good guess.” Jerry says conversationally, “Actually, George was getting too cramped in his coffin. He doesn’t do well in small spaces and decided to call the whole death thing off. Good idea if you ask me, the whole funeral thing is always a bit too theatric in my opinion. Like we get it. You're dead. Move on."

“Real classy.” Lindsay shoots back, but Jerry can tell that she liked the joke, “By the way George, I knew it wasn’t real when I called your parents to offer my condolences and your dad laughed at me. Anything to say about that?”

George shrugs, the gig is up as they say, “Admittedly, the art of not being an idiot is extremely challenging for me.”

Lindsay rolls her eyes, "You know what, I don't care." She heads back over to her friend and doesn't look back.

“Huh. She took that pretty well.” Jerry says when Lindsay is out of ear shot, “The way you talk about her I assumed her reaction would’ve been far more deranged.”

“Trust me,” George says seriously, “If you weren’t here she would’ve unhinged her jaw and swallowed me whole like a snake.”

“Too bad. I would’ve liked to see that.”

Finally, the waitress comes back over and Jerry orders another espresso. He considers his joke again.

“Should I ask Lindsay if she thinks the joke’s funny?” Jerry asks seriously. Lindsay is still sitting across the diner with her friend, “I need a woman’s perspective.”

George shrugs, “Jerry, I’m telling you right now, just improvise. Or do the lifeguard bit again. It’s your best.”

[spooky-draws-stuff]

Antisepticeye is the antagonist and basically considers himself to be the ruler of all the egos. He is an asexual.

Personality:

depressed,  intelligent, talkative, greedy, jealousy, smug, trickster, mischievous, can be somewhat persuasive. Psychopath. Qualified Narssacist. Anger issues, bad social skills, lazy

Anti is 28 years old and is the tallest ego with a height of 6 feet 2 inches and he terrifies me. He's also a demon because why wouldn't he be.

Outfit : All black clothes, (T-shirt, jeans, combat boots, socks, owns a hoodie)sometimes wears a belt to carry extra knives around

It depends on what day it is. Anti sleeps in black sweat pants with metal band shirts.

Most of the time he has black ripped jeans and black lace up boots. He does wear a belt but not all the time. His hair is dark brown but he used to dye it dark green. He has a large cut across his neck and gauges. He also has pointy ears, green eyes, and fangs.

His eyes black out to scare people and they have green swirls when he's hypnotizing someone.

Anti is the strongest and most intelligent ego. He has a very dark sense of humor and a love of pun jokes that make the other egos cringe. Sometimes he floats above the air and falls asleep like a cat on the floor. Anyone who goes near him will get clawed at. And yes, he has long black claws.

He Likes

-Cookies

-Sweets

-Knives

He Dislikes

-Humans

- Screamer victims(They annoy him)

-Jack

His ears will twitch when he hears noises around him. He can see in the dark like a cat.

Regular appearance, glitch form (in which he glitches more than usual, especially when inside a computer) Shadow form, true demon, Red-green form (The 2018 version of Anti) Red green shadow form(shadow form of 2018 Anti) 

Shadow form is just when he turns into a huge shadow with glowing green eyes and his body becomes fluid like water and he can make himself up to 8 feet tall

True demon is what he looks like when not in his more human form

Black curved horns, green wings, 2 tails, cat tail and demon spade tail.

Create fire with hands (Pryoflame)

Telethapy

Possession

Levitation/Flying

Glitching(teleportation)

Anti is double jointed, so he can bend himself into strange postions

Cannot feel physical pain

Can use "coding magic" to heal things and create force fields.

Regeneration(if he loses an arm for example it takes 20 minutes instead of 1 minute to grow back)

Can eat fire

Can eat electricity

Sleep hypnosis(Puts people to sleep with a cold hard stare from blacking out his eyes)

Dream Eater(Eats good dreams and replaces them with nightmares)

Mind control

Major combat knowledge, many ways to kill, torture, mutilate, restrain, ETC

Excellent computer programing skills. Good at mathematics. Very strong memory.

Guilty pleasures

crocheting

Cooking

Journaling

Playing drums

Listening to music

Anti is 100% irish

He can unhinge his jaw like a snake and swallow things whole whilst snapping his jaw into place and feeling no pain from it. He can rotate his neck at a 360 like an owl.

The top of his fangs are like cobra fangs. The bottom are cat teeth. He loves biting people. His top fangs are laced with the corruption drug and he won't hesitate to bite your neck and sedate you.  Can travel through most electrical devices.  He can crawl up entire walls, latch himself to your ceiling and will absolutely pounce on you.

If he's in his shadow form he'll coil around you and trap you like a snake, attempting to choke you. He might also want to bite the top of your head and pump out all your negative energy to give himself more power.

Anti doesn't mind hugs but if you attempt to he might crush your spine.

Anti likes to comfort his victims. (This only applies to his special puppets) He'll do this by stroking their hair, talking to them softly or putting them into trance sleep.

Anti loves tying on the red strings into little bows. He might make them burn slightly, he controls the pain level.  Anti comforting his prisoners is how he manipulates them.

If he's comforting another ego and they don't answer properly he will claw their scalp or straight up stab them. He'll smack them across the face or shove their head into a bucket of water for a full minute. He also will bite them.

He does have a name for his favorite knife, but won't tell anyone.

He wears fake glasses when reading books.

Anti has a huge room dedicated to his 100+ knife collection.

Regarding love relations(Extremely rare)

Anti shows no intrest whatsoever to the point where he will deny affection as much as possible because it disgusts him.

If someone is trying to make themselves appear interesting to him he is unable to understand the message and will just become extremely irritated about it.

If he actually liked someone, he would most likely be the type to make them a meal at home and go out and kidnap them. He would tie them to a chair and demand them on their end to thank him. He would only get angrier if they refused to have anything he offers them.

He would then be as manipulative as possible, even going as far to force them to like him.

He would make things very one sided.

If he liked them enough he would leave corpses for them outside the way a cat leaves gifts.

[forthereaderinserts]

HCs for naga Orochimaru child?Basically that Parent Oro AU but he gave them more snake DNA and they have the lower half of a snake.They also have more snake traits now,like seeking warmth and swallowing things whole.

|||Kini's Scenario Emporium|||

Ahh nagas the perfect snake partners

(fun fact I am actually just a warm-blooded flesh snake :3)

~|~|~

Like how the more human Oro!kid was first a test subject, his naga child would be to test how far he can push biology and power. His snake-like nature allows him to be able to teach his child to adapt to their instincts to walk like a human with the muscular structures of a snake.

All the time he spends with his kid leads to a lot of unexpected bonding time. You'd be surprised by how much a relationship can grow when you spend a ton of time unhinging your jaws and swallowing forest animals.

He enjoys having someone as feral as you be loyal to him, but it's even better now that your relationship with him is actually healthy. Every time you slither up to him, absolutely bursting with joy, and show up the poisoned corpse of a test subject or animal, he feels so proud of you.

~|~|~

[thecasperanfamily]

does lin ever get bullied in school (bc I feel like if that happened his fam would go absolutely feral idk)

Going to school at all means you will inevitably encounter kids who, for whatever reason, will try to hurt you in some way. So I’d say Lin has had his fair share of schoolground conflicts. That being said however, I’m pretty sure they were all isolated cases. He never had to worry about having somebody commit to picking on him long-term because, well...

...if he didn’t stop them himself, you can sure as hell bet the rest of the Casperans did. 

After elementary years, I think Lin was probably one of the more popular kids in high-school, so he wasn’t a good target for bullying. Which isn’t to say that everybody liked him--I’m absolutely certain he ticked off more than a few kids enough to have them qualify as unfriendly rivals. But it just wasn’t a good idea to mess with him too much, between his own willingness to throw hands and the fact that his family is well known for being Magical and Protective. Even if there’s no risk of Master Wizard Casperan actually using his magic on a kid in retaliation for the way they treated his son, nobody wants to be on the receiving end of one of his Disappointed Looks, and especially not Zoe’s Mama Bear Glare of Doom. And that weird black cat that’s always with them? There’s tales of it unhinging its jaw and swallowing its enemies whole like a snake (all of them probably propagated by Lin, but best not to test one’s luck either way). 

Also nobody actually knows what Lin’s Aunt Nari would do in response to bullying but he has nonchalantly mentioned a few times that she is capable of killing full-grown men (which I don’t think is much of an exaggeration) so if even the promise of Zoe’s ire isn’t enough to discourage bullying, the terror of the unknown potential of the mysterious Wood Nymph definitely is.

I like to think Lin uses all of these advantages to help kids who are being targeted by bullies. Having been raised by Douxie, he’s likely always on the lookout for those who are more vulnerable than he is, and ready to lend them a helping hand when they need it, even if it just means walking in the hallways with them so they don’t have to be alone. Doesn’t stop him from thoroughly ticking off his enemies with some unnecessary snark during an encounter, but at least he knows not to use his powers for anything truly unkind. 

Thank you so much for the ask, Non! ✨