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#naga au
envy-of-the-apple · 2 months
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Dark!Naga!Gojo Satoru x reader x Dark!Naga!Geto Suguru
Top of the Food Chain
I've always wanted to continue my naga!mha fic but considering i dont write for deku+co anymore, i decided to move my au a couple fandoms over:D 1.8k wc
Part two
(Warnings: animal deaths, blood, obsession, dark content, slight gun threat but not rlly, polyamory, gender ambigious!reader) 
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Despite being here for nearly a week, you still don't think Satoru understood how delicate you are. 
He's overbearing, in that sense. Constantly poking and prodding and squeezing until your lungs give and you're forced to squeak. You can't blame him for not understanding. He's an animal, after all. Inhuman. Despite his skin and hair, the scales coating his tail give away just how different he is. He was probably born fighting, kicking, and screeching his way through the foliage, hunting, chewing, and biting. 
He's not like you when all you knew when you were younger was coddling and softness. You can see it in his scars, and bruises, and marks. 
Luckily, for you, Suguru had an inkling that you weren't made for sharp claws. 
It's not a fight, you can tell when they're fighting, it's more like a warning? A minor disagreement. Suguru hisses at the other naga, scrunching up his face, showing his teeth. Satoru is quick to respond, but a little more playful. Fortunately for you, the black-haired male seems to win the argument. Satoru's coils loosen around you. Air stops fighting its way to get into your lungs. 
You finally go lax in his hold. Satoru seems to enjoy that, dipping his head to bury his face into the base of his neck. The first few times he did that, you were afraid he was trying to bite off your jugular. Now, you think it's just another way he can soak up your body heat. 
Maybe you've been here for longer than a week. At this point, you couldn't really tell. Hope that you'd be found was starting to slowly fizzle away. The explosion had been massive. The ship had sunk in a matter of minutes. With a disaster that huge, you doubt anyone would still be looking for survivors. Especially on an uncharted island, where myth had turned into reality. 
 Satoru had been the one you'd woken up to. Washed ashore, barely conscious. You were half-certain he was planning on eating you with the way he held your leg, watching your muscles bend and turn. In his defense, he must have thought you were dead. Your shrill scream quickly convinced him otherwise. 
It was barely a fight. More or less, a pathetic kidnapping as he grabbed your body, slinging it over his shoulder. You've never remembered screaming and crying so loudly before, convinced you were about to be eaten. Suguru probably heard you before he saw you. 
Satoru's mate was a little less impressed with you. Back then, they didn't bother learning your tongue, speaking in hisses and snarls, unaware of your misery. Suguru's frown was glued on his face, but the naga never let you run away, always keeping a hand or a tail on you at all times. It was a rough first day; you didn't know they weren't interested in eating you until they tried to feed you. 
Things were much different back then Nowadays, they are a lot more considerate of yourself and your soft body. You think you've come to an understanding with these strange creatures. 
Suguru was the nicest out of the two. In that, you mean the least rough. Compared to his counterpart, he's a bit smaller, but that's not saying there's any real difference. If it comes down to it, you are more than certain he'd be able to kill you off as quickly as his mate. You thought he hated you, at first. Now, you think he has a hard time showing blatant affection. His touches typically come in the dead of night, when you're barely conscious. A clawed finger gently raking over your soft skin. Large hands sculpting your face. 
Satoru's eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. Glittering like blue sapphires. You had a feeling they weren't just for show. Time and time again he's proven that he can see better than Suguru could. He smiles a lot more, but you're starting to wonder if that expression translates across species. He can speak your tongue slightly better than Suguru could. It most likely has to do with his insistence on staying with you. The more time you spend with him, the more you have to say 'No' 'Don't touch there' 'Stop'. 
In the rare times you manage to escape their hold, you like watching them interact with each other. They often sunbathe for hours, lazing around hot rocks to soak in the heat. They like touching each other. Sometimes it's aggressive, like when Satoru chomps on Suguru's neck and you're suddenly much more aware of how careful he is with you. Other times it's: soft, unintentional, meaningless. Languid cuddling when you are finally able to braid Suguru's hair. 
At this point, you've surmised they won't eat you. At least, not for the moment. You don't exactly know what they think of you. Do they have the concept of pets in their worldview? Maybe that's the closest thing you can place yourself as, at least in their eyes. They must think you're helpless. To them, you have no claws, no fangs, no venom. They probably don't know you come from a species that's hunted others to extinction and currently burning down the planet. You must be the first time they've ever seen your kind, stripped away from your weapons, when you're the least dangerous. 
"You should be more scared of me, you know," you once whispered to Suguru in the dead of night.
He was dozing off, blearily keeping his eyes open to stare at your moving lips. There was a grunt behind you, and Satoru tightened his arms across your waist. Greedy for affection, even in his sleep.
"Humans are terrifying," you said, reaching out to touch, "top of the food chain."
Suguru had smiled at that. You found yourself smiling back.
"You're lucky I didn't have a gun on me. You probably don't even know what that is." It's dark humor to press two fingers into his forehead. Your way of coping maybe.
Or perhaps your actions prove that humans will always desire to be violent, no matter how perilous their fight may be.
"Bang." He leans into your touch, unafraid. Oblivious to the threat that you are.
You're guessing Satoru only let you go because of the food Suguru brought.
You're able to feel the ground again as he glides over to Suguru having just come back from a successful hunt. The carcass of the largest deer you've ever seen is slung across his back. The smell of blood already makes you nauseous. 
You think Suguru had been the most panicked when you refused to eat, clicking and cooing while he tried to force-feed you the bloody leg of a bear. Back then, your communication was even worse than it was now. You were smeared in crimson by the time he relented. Practically dripping in it. 
Now, Suguru knows you have different tastes than them. You're not a big fan of raw. The fish and the handful of berries are more than enough to sate you as you gather the items he's given in your hands. 
"Thank you," you say. You reach out, touching his face with warm fingers. He purrs into your touch. You smile. It's the least gratitude you can give him. After all, he's not asking for much. If they hadn't found you, you would have been dead long ago, or at least, significantly less weaker. It's the least you can do. 
For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking they were your pets. It'd certainly be easy too. They have little to no regard for personal boundaries, much like dogs. They're more animalistic than they are human. 
It's funny to think of these monsters as lovable pets.
"Thank you," Suguru repeats. You giggle. It's not like they actually understand you. It's simple mimicry. Like talking to a parrot. 
"Thank you!" Satoru chirps, never one to be left out. He pushes his mate out of the way, eager for your pets as well. Suguru hisses, but doesn't argue. You've learned they like to be scratched right there on the bottoms of their chins. 
Suguru's less obvious, but Satoru has no desire to pretend. He melts into you, practically slumping his weight into your weak hold. It's a little adorable actually. You give a little laugh. He seems even more pleased at that. 
They're fun to be around, but this can't last. You belong with other humans, far far away from this island. So far, you hadn't seen any boats in the horizon, but you hope one would come by soon. A plane would be even better. Close enough to give you hope. Maybe if you built a big enough fire, it'd reach someone eye. 
Hopefully, in just a few weeks, these creatures will be a very cherished memory. 
You frown when Satoru reaches over to grasp at your food, the meat specifically. You glare, moving away from his hold. He titters in clear disappointment. You hate seeing him sad but you already have so few food sources. It's best to conserve whatever you get. 
"No," you pointedly tell him, "It's mine. Mine." 
His frown deepens, and he opens his jaws to let his fangs pop out. 
"Mine," you repeat. 
He leans back, huffing. You laugh because you know his expression is more out of frustration than any actual anger. Again, animals. You pet his head in apology, before turning away. You'd have to start a tiny fire to start cooking. Raw fish is edible, but it's hardly desirable. 
A hand grabs yours, clawed, the grip is tight around your frail skin. When you look back, Satoru is staring at you. Eyes wide. Eager. 
"Mine," he says, but it's more like he's testing the word. Tasting it on his lips. 
You scoff, unamused. "That's my arm. Not yours." 
Satoru smiles. Sharp teeth. You suddenly remember he's a carnivore. 
He's slow when he draws you in, practically dragging you into his arms. You're used to his spontaneous hugs, tight and suffocating. You can't fight him off, so you typically wait until Suguru has enough of his behavior and drags him off you. 
"Mine," Satoru repeats. Alarm bells ring in your head but it's easy to brush them off. It's mimicry. They can't understand. It's like talking to a parrot. 
You feel the weight of the other naga at your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you against Satoru's chest. You stiffen when Suguru's fangs lightly graze up your neck. Never quite punctures, but is terrifyingly close.
"Mine," Suguru says into your skin. 
You laugh again, but it comes out less hesitant. More airy. Amid their hold, a sudden thought comes to you.
If you weren't at the top of the food chain anymore, then who was?
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sinnabee · 25 days
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comm i did for @crazedauthor during last night's stream of her naga boys!!! If you haven't checked out her naga fic yet, omg go read it rn!!! its fantastiiiic <3
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naffeclipse · 2 months
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Cold Scales
Naga!Moon x Reader. Sickness.
The first sign of your fever hits you with a pulse of heat. You brushed it aside, believing the sun had been beating on you too long, and the jungle warmth was simmering your blood. Sun leads you to the cave come nightfall. The buzz of mosquitoes fills the air with a menacing hum.
Sun has always been warm to you, even when he told you that you are warmer. His melting yellow and golden jewel tone scales, his cornflower blue eyes, wide and endearing, fit alongside the heavy humidity in the afternoons. The small scarlet markings on his throat and hips are metal-red hot, too. He always kept you warm.
Moon is cool. You’re not sure if that’s due to the cold tones of his scales, gray-blue on his belly and along his arms, and deeper into midnight blue along his back and on top of his hood. He hides in the darkness after sunset. His red eyes, even darker still, only flash once it’s too late for his prey. You’ve seen how fast he strikes—before, when you were acting foolish and trying to escape their aid, and after, when you watched him and Sun hunt a meal.
You slip out of Sun’s embrace. His arms fall away, lethargic from the day you both put your energy into scavenging for berries and nuts and small mammals. A soft hiss leaves his lips. You wait a moment to ensure he doesn’t stir, though his coils unconsciously tense, searching for the little human he was holding.
Sun had mentioned you felt warmer than usual, but you convinced him you were only tired and worn out from the hot day. Still, he frowned when you laid down beside him on the cool cave floor.
The fever pulses deep within you. You feel it burn across your forehead with a ripple of sweat. Staggering out of the cave, what strength you have is quickly sapped by whatever attacks your body. You need less heat. You need to be cold and imagine gulping down icy water to soothe the dryness infecting your throat.
A small trail that’s been trampled by your feet and the width of snake tails leads you through the trees. Even in the dark, under the delirium of a fever, you find the edge of the glinting water reflecting the canopy of thick verdant leaves overhead.
You kneel, almost collapsing forward before you manage to catch yourself with both hands splashing into the pebble-bottom stream. The heavy breaths in your chest heave in and out. You sigh and tell yourself you’re being a baby—one little fever, and you’re struggling to concentrate on the water before you.
In the reflection of the stream, you catch two red eyes glowing above you, leaning out of a tree to survey your feeble attempts to quench your burning thirst. A hood of midnight and diamond yellow stars surround the visage. 
“It’s nothing, Moon,” you whisper to the water. Slowly, you cup your hand and carefully bring it to your lips. The crisp coldness douses your heated lips, filling your mouth with a jolt due to the sharp contrast of cold and fire within you. When you swallow, you shiver.
The softest rustle echoes. A few branches quiver, then, you feel his presence behind you, cool as a tree’s shadow. 
A large, blue-gray hand snakes around your forehead. Knuckles press against your temple, and you sigh in relief at his blissful, fresh touch. 
“Fever,” Moon rasps, carrying the end of the word with a soft hiss of disdain, as if saying it with a curse will make it no longer reality.
“I just need a drink.” You cup your hand in the lazy flow of water again. “I’m fine.”
“Too warm,” he says when you greedily gulp another mouthful. 
Water spills cut down the corners of your mouth. He presses closer to you. His thumb smoothly wipes away the drips falling off of your chin, then he shifts. Your mauve shirt with the sleeves cut off allows his frosty arms to offer a barrier against the next wave of heat crashing against you. He’s never felt so cold before—or have you never felt this feverish before?
“It’ll go away.” 
You try to get to your feet but Moon’s hand on your waistline stops you from rising.
“Come here,” he rasps. “Let me see you, orchid.”
You would have given him a look at the pet name, but you don’t have the strength to muster the effort. He eases you back against his chest. His palms slide and cup your shoulders, his sharp fingertips slipping slightly under the frayed edges of your shirt and resting on the end of your collarbone. Is that a shiver from the elicit touch or sickly chills beginning to take hold?
“You’re flushed,” he hisses softly. A slight slip of his tongue, forked at the end, peeks out of his mouth as he leans closer. You moan unwittingly at his cool, flat cheek pressed against your clammy face.
“It was hot today.”
“You’re sick,” he decides.
This time, you groan out of refusal rather than relief. 
“I’m not sick.” You slowly shift, managing to get to your knees to face him. The fever forces your shoulders down. You bow under the exhaustion taking hold. 
Moon hisses in an amusement yet concerned note. His long tail drapes behind him, cutting across the ground like the connections of a constellation. It’s black in this lowlight, but in the day, when he sleepily shows himself, you’ve caught the iridescent indigo and jeweled blue tones of his beautiful scales. 
“If you keep denying it, I will take drastic actions. Do you want that, orchid?” his tone lowers to a menacing threat, all dark cords and hisses, but you’ve learned to tune your senses to his hands and expression. He looks only at you, a slight frown playing along his wide mouth. His eyes are narrowed, displeased with your condition.
“No,” you shake your head, “You and Sun are so dramatic.”
“Says the stubborn flower,” he touches your cheek. You nearly collapse into his palm. The rasp of his laugh stings your pride as much as it soothes your aching chest. 
“I’m not a flower,” you mutter as you feel his arms lower slightly, coaxing your hands over his shoulders. He rises higher on his tail, lifting your feet off the ground without effort, and you slump over his shoulder, little more than a child being carried to bed. Moon hums a low, hypnotic sound (that you’re sure is part of his allure, his power).
“Of course not,” he gives with amused demean.
You work up a growl at your throat that sounds weak even to your own ears. Moon shushes you with a soft stroke of his claws against your spine. The shudder that follows through your body is both cold and hot, and you hate that he silences you so simply, and that you like how he strikes back against your harshness.
“Easy, easy,” he murmurs as if calming a tiger. You want to snarl at him again but the brief spark is quickly smothered under an internal infernal cooking your core.
No one agitates you and reassures you as much as Moon.
He glides across the ground to his tree—it’s wide and high, thick with strong boughs and leafy but not too leafy. A perfect tree for a naga. Moon tends to lounge up there when he wants to escape the shadows of the cave you usually make your bed in. You wonder how he intends to hold you through the night up in its verdant limbs, but Moon hooks a hand behind your head and lowers you softly to the cool, moist ground at the base of the trunk.
“Moon?” For a piercing moment, you’re afraid. You refuse to let go of his arm as he draws away. Where is he going?
“Hold still,” he gently hisses.
You let go. You wait for him.
Slowly, his coils gather, curving in loops close to you. He draws himself around you, his long body following. The darkness shimmers. He takes you into his arms once more and guides you to his chest where he fully embraces you. The end of his tail drapes across your waist, sealing you within a deliciously cool embrace of the naga’s scales.
“Shush,” he says when you groan, soaking in his invigorating presence. “Sleep, orchid.”
You almost tell him that you can’t, or that you won’t, but the comfortable weight of his body surrounding you, the chill of his arms against your burning skin, and the soft tuck of his chin upon your sweaty head chases away the last of your resistance. You might have pressed back—saying you don’t need his help, but it’s hard to resist the frost-gentle relief of his presence. It’s hard to be stubborn when he feels so good.
“Close your eyes,” he murmurs against your hair. “You’ll feel better soon.”
The sweet caresses of his cool touch across your forehead eases your ache. Against your will, your eyelids flutter. He hums low, a lullaby you can’t name, and it soothes you gently into a dreamless sleep, comforted by a cool cradle of scales and songs.
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melanirana · 2 months
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@naffeclipse Nagas you say . . . have them three boys all made up of tropical species(or semi tropical) of snakes
Sun is a mix of Eyelash Viper and Black Racer. Sun is diurnal.
Moon is White Lipped Python and a Cape Cobar. He is also the longest out of the boys and Nocturnal.
And Eclipse is a Red African Bush Viper mixed with a Blood Python. He is active during the morning and the evening.
Dont get me started on snake biologie, I will ramble for hours and give you a crash course worth 3 years of biologie class.
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puppetmaster13u · 4 months
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Prompt 111
Y’all know H2O? Where some people get cursed to turn into merfolk whenever they get water on them? That, but replace water with ectoplasm and merfolk with naga. 
No, Bruce has no idea how they managed to get cursed or how he ended up with an armful of baby snake-person creature thing. At least this one isn’t black-hair and blue-eyes so his kids can’t complain at him. And it’s not his fault they all fell into this, this was supposed to be a vacation while Lucious, Alfred, and Gordon kept an eye on things back in Gotham. 
On the bright side, his children want to snuggle up for once, which he supposes is nice. And Damian seems pleased about it judging by his rambles about snakes. So there’s that. 
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wassli-li · 2 months
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More of them!
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crazedauthor · 2 months
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A beautiful commission I got from @shawncoper1 ! (Note: their commissions are not open to the general public right now.)
It's baby naga Sun and Moon, soon after hatching! These boys were cuddle bugs. They stuck together like glue for most of their early life. Squishy little babies so nice to hold!
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thedemonscrawler · 5 months
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Soooooo Magma released all their previously paid brushes for free >u>;;;
Yassified Eclipse is from last week! Art wasn't really happening for me, but I at least got them drawn.
And then this week we got @venomous-qwille's Clip (one day I will draw Sol, it's gonna happen) and @crazedauthor's naga!Moon to go with the Sun I drew a bit ago
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yeenybeanies · 5 months
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this was funnier in my head, but it’s funny here too
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liss-art · 7 months
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yandere-kokeshi · 2 months
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Warnings: yandere behavior, naga AU, and slight NSFW.
A/N: tell me if you'd like more of this wild woman + other characters. Enjoy <3!
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I can't stop thinking of Naga! Valeria.
She's a highly venomous Timber Rattlesnake, extremely territorial of her forest. Hisses at anyone, especially at Alejandro, who gets even close to the perimeter. She hates sharing, food is for her and her only; feasts on any animal, and humans she can find, and doesn't care about the wet or dried blood on her face, neck, and naked breasts. Her sharpen eyes only show beast, and loves a game of cat-and-mouse.
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So, when she smelled you — a mere human — she smirked. It was yet another game again, which she greatly enjoyed. But when she slithered near you, finding a rather large branch, she watched you from afar for fun.
She admired you from above — looking at a map in your hands, clothes torn and covered in dirt, scrapes on your knees, she smelled different in the air. You weren't any intruder, simply lost. And whilst most were dumb, maybe you were too, but she almost felt… pity?
Her nose scrunched, it— you were different. And she hated it.
The aura of you was different. Her forked tongue came out, tasting the air. And when she did, it hit her like a truck.
You're hers. It was the taste, smell, and pheromone that you gave off. And you were in her pocket. You were Valeria's, her beloved mate, whom she was gonna wreck and keep. There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and absolutely no one else to rely on. She can already imagine it — you, on the floor with her made-pelts as a bed, keeping still with her tail slithering around you and keeping tugged to her naked chest. And that's what she did. She took you, despite your biting and fighting frame — she began to like your feistiness. And now, you live with her, in a large cave who she calls home; keeping you close to her at all times.
Naga! Valeria, whose venom takes a turn on humans: becoming a highly addictive aphrodisiac. And she uses this to her advantage.
After keeping you in the luscious cave, trying to entertain you, you had run. And it angered her.
And now, it's left you being suffocated with her tongue and lips — her hands grasping at your neck to keep you in place. Her tongue goes deep, playing with yours, and purring when you gag. Right as she's done, rubbing her thick tail all around you, she licks her spit-covered lips with your sweet, sweet scent; she can't help but smirk and giggle at your obvious worried expression.
Of course, your lips sting — but not in a bad way. Your fingers graze at your almost-numb but puckered lips, before Valeria's fingers pull away your shaken fingers. When did you start shaking?
Oh boy, and when she touches you? Claws grazing right above your hips, bringing you closer to her warm embrace? You whimper. She purrs in your ear, rubbing her nose into the space between your neck and shoulder. "Someone excited?"
Even if you shake your head, denying it, the minute her claws go inside your pants and near your V-line, you collapse in her arms. Your arms tighten around her, head laying on her naked tits, breathing heavy now, and suddenly feel warm. Too warm for comfort.
She hisses a laugh — and before you know it, her pretty bottom-body is curled all around you like a log, looking down at you with pupils dilated; in a way of saying: "You're mine, whether you like it or not". She tightens her hold when you squirm, holding her claw underneath your chin to give you more kisses. Her tongue licking the salt on your mouth, and teeth gently nibbling your cheek when you heave in hot-breath.
It's only a matter of seconds when Valeria rips off your clothes, playfully biting your ears whilst grumbling on how, 'you don't need 'em clothes' and, 'I'm warm enough to keep you warm'.
By the end of the night — or dawn if you're good at staying up regardless of her relentless tongue, hands, and tail — you're sweaty, sticky, and heaving whilst Valeria snuggles herself into your hair. She draws shapes into your sides, easily threatening you with her silence.
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envy-of-the-apple · 29 days
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ive been really obsessed with your gojo/geto naga oneshots and asks lately it feels like literal brain rot at this point its so good. ive reread it 6 times lol
i was wondering though, what would Geto do if Gojo was just a little bit too heavy handed with you? to the point of a sprained or broken arm or leg. Would he get mad at Gojo or just mad in general that reader was hurt? Also how would they act in response to the injured reader who can't do basic tasks themselves, I personally think they would enjoy the fact she relied on them even more to even move now.
Reminder requests are still closed!!!! I just love this idea so so much holdon lemme-
Part one
(Yandere, dark, implied forced relationships, noncon touching, biting, language barriers, drugging(?))
Top of the Food Chain pt2
Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader
Two days later, Satoru still wasn't allowed inside the cave.
You can hear him, hissing and clicking, right outside, hovering just behind the invisible line Suguru refused to let him pass. If you weren't already in so much pain, you would have found pity on the poor thing. He wasn't allowed in his own home, even though the incident wasn't entirely his fault.
Technically, Satoru saved you. It was yet again another escape attempt. Something you'd been doing a lot these days once you've figured out these beings' intentions with you. You'd gotten past the rock quarry this time, a new record. Your plan was filled with holes: there was no way to truly escape the island. You had no boat, no way to call for help. Still, you ran, forgetting that there were more dangerous things on this island other than two territorial serpent men.
It was a monster. There was no other way to describe it. Big, ugly, shiny spikes and sharp teeth, eyes dripping with bloodlust. You would have been eaten, killed, maimed, if Satoru hadn't caught up with you in time.
The only collateral was the loss of nearby plant life and your broken wrist.
That had been Satoru's fault. He'd pulled at you too hard at the hand. The remnants of adrenaline from the fight, his anger, anger made him too rough on your fragile body. He froze at the wet snap, and then you started screaming. That was how Suguru had found you. Despite how much Satoru clicked and hummed and tittered, from his mate's look, you doubted it helped his case.
Another lonely coo made you wince. Suguru only huffed, wrapping you tighter in his coils. They were already warm from your body heat. The numerous animal pelts helped your comfort too.
"Make him stop," you beg, "he's been going on for hours."
At that, Suguru lifts his head from the base of your neck. He tilts his head as he surveys you, and you can't help but think how awful you must look. Sickly-looking from the pain, clammy skin. He can't do much about your appearance, but the least he could do was shut Satoru up.
"What want?" Suguru asks, "water?"
At that, he picks up a sack filled with sea-smelling water. You wrinkle your nose, turning away, cocooning yourself within his coils. With the increased pain, your appetite has decreased, as well as your thirst. The stress of being trapped like this along with your broken wrist was starting to take its toll on your body.
Suguru makes a sound of disapproval, shuffling around behind you. You know he's still mad about the escape attempt, but he's concerned enough for your well-being to put his anger to the side for now. He'd helped wrap your wrist, using something stretchy and soft.
You raise your wrist up, inspecting the thin material wrapped around your wrist. You're not sure what it is, it's too silky to resemble cotton. It must be from the foliage around the island. Yet, another strange thing you'd never find the answer to.
There's another rumble coming from the Naga's chest. He wraps a hand around your chin, bringing your face closer. In his other, he holds the dripping sack.
"Suguru," it's too soft to be anything more than a whine, "it hurts too much to take anything right now. Stop."
"Hurt?" he asks.
To that, you gesture to your broken wrist. It may not have been broken, you were no doctor, so you couldn't say for certain. But considering you'd been in the same amount of pain for two days, it really didn't matter to you.
A click, before he's tossing a glare at the entrance of the cave. He'd already given Satoru a beating right before coming to coddle you. Despite being bigger than his mate, Satoru is docile enough to take them. Suguru had been acting more aggressive lately. You had a feeling it was your fault.
He'd been inspecting your wrist every so often, but you see a different look within his brown eyes now as he takes your injured hand. He carefully turns your palm over, pressing slightly into your wrist. When you yelp, he retracts.
"Hurt." Suguru confirms. You can only nod.
"Hurt. No drink? No eat?" You don't like the way he's talking. As if he's putting a puzzle piece together. Coming to a solution you won't like.
When you go to pull away, his grip only tightens.
"No hurt," he says it like a promise, as though you're a toddler and he's coaxing you into drinking a sour-tasting medicine. His lips part, revealing the fangs you've often seen him use on meat, on Satoru.
Never did you think he'd ever use them on you.
"Suguru," you're pleading, trying to move away when he bends down, his hair brushing your sweaty forehead. You can feel his breath on your neck.
"No hurt," he repeats, and then he bites down.
He lied, of course, he did. His teeth puncture your skin, tearing through like paper. You think you screamed, or maybe it was more akin to a pitiful whimper. In the background, you can hear someone hiss, Satoru maybe?
For a second, you feel everything, the pain, the puncture wound, Suguru lightly licking your neck.
And then, you feel weightless.
It's hard to describe, but your brain feels like it's turned to mush. Your body feels like you're on a soft cloud, just there, floating. In the back of your mind, you remember how dazed Satoru would get whenever Suguru bit him. At the time, you just thought he was lovestruck.
When Suguru pulls away, he's smiling. A trail of blood, your blood goes down his lip. You can barely keep your eyes on him, close to falling asleep.
"No hurt," he says. When he leans down to kiss you, you accept without a single fuss.
You don't remember much after that, but you remember accepting whatever Suguru put in your mouth. The panic in your body was non-existent as he held the water-sack above your lips, watching as your throat bobbed. You think he kissed you a few more times, but you're not too sure. You were a lot more averse to kissing before. It'd make sense he'd take advantage of it.
When you wake up again, you're in between two bodies. The pain in your wrist is still there, but not as horrible as before. You're still groggy, mind fuzzy. Whatever Suguru had given you was still in effect.
Satoru is the first to notice you're awake. Suguru and him must have made up during the time you were unconscious. He props himself up, peering down at you. With how dim the cave is, you can barely make out his features. He looks just as guilty as he had two days ago.
"Sorry," he mutters, "is sorry."
If you weren't still high, you might have laughed. When you continue to stare, he takes it in stride, leaning forward to kiss your cheek, then your lips. You wince in distaste, leaning back.
"Stop," you say but don't fight when he licks at your jaw. You can barely move your fingers.
Panic is still far away, a distant call than anything alarming. It should worry you, but you still can't feel anything.
Suguru is at your back. You can hear his scales move across the cavern floor. He gives a hum, content as he curls himself around you. He doesn't seem to mind Satoru's touches. Your theory that they must have made up is unfortunately starting to strengthen.
You could barely manage Suguru's coddlings. You don't think you'll survive Satoru's.
"Sorry," he mouths into your neck. You can feel the grip on your waist starting to tighten. He stops, rising up to stare at you.
Blue, almost glowing.
"But no more leave."
You're coherent enough to piece together what he means. You can't escape Satoru. You can't escape Suguru. You can't leave this island. Running away is useless.
The nagas understood it. It's time you did too.
"Yes," you finally say, "no more leave."
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juli3ette · 8 days
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The Courtship~
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After the alpha male had successfully defeated his rival, he may now initiate his bizarre mating ritual…..
(Sorry for accidentally melting your eyes)
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naffeclipse · 2 months
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Warm Fangs
Naga!Sun x Reader. Sickness.
Prev
As you sleep, the fever worsens. Chills hit you with a violent shudder. The heat from the sickness flees under the quaking cold. You moan softly, curling up tighter. A soft hiss shushes you but you can’t find anything warm, anything warm at all.
The smooth brush of scales loosens from around you. The outside cold slips away from your feverish skin but stays within.
“It hasn’t broken yet,” Moon murmurs distantly. Cold fingertips brush your hair, damp from sweat, away from your forehead. A whine leaves you. You hate how pathetic it sounds inside your head.
“Oh, no. I was afraid it might linger with our poor lily pad,” Sun lowers his voice but he’s not as quiet as his brother, holding a stage whisper more than an actual whisper. You might have smiled if you weren’t bothered by the mottled moonlight giving way to a blue-bright early morning sky. 
It doesn’t feel warm. The sun is supposed to reheat the earth and take away the frost filling your chest with a shivering revolt.
A few quiet exchanges slip away in your near unconsciousness. Gingerly, you become weightless, lifted into the air like a feather before pressed into other arms. Heat, raw and covering, finally touches your body. You breathe out a low sigh, eyelids fluttering to peek up at the source of the heat. The form softly sways as you’re carried away.
“It’s going to be alright,” Sun hums. He looks down at you, his spiky frills flaring around his head in golden hues before the shadow of the cave eclipses the morning sun. “Don’t move, my water lily, you’re still sick.”
“Hmm, I’m fine,” you half moan. Your eyes fall close again. A tender soreness soaks into every muscle, especially at your neck and your shoulders. The deep, deep ache that refuses to go away. 
You shudder with another chill. Sun clicks his tongue in concern, the forked end whipping with a snapping worry. 
“You amaze me, truly. Even in the throes of illness, you’re still so stubborn.” He laughs softly, endearing but in a way that almost makes you push yourself out of his steady arms. He doesn’t get to think you’re cute. Not right now, when you feel how sticky your body is and how weak your limbs dangle as he carries you deeper into the cave you’ve made a shelter within.
“Sun,” you softly groan.
“Save your strength to fight the fever, not me.” A soft peck of his scaly mouth touches your temple. You nearly dissolve under his doting command. “You need to rest and do as I say so you can feel better. I don’t like to see you like this.”
You, in a reflective, rebellious instinct, almost try to kick out your feet and find solid ground, but Sun lowers you to the cold, cave floor. You’re seized by another icy torrent of coldness. Hugging your arms, you quietly groan. A soft swell of tears teem over your eyelids. That’s from the sickness, you tell yourself. You’re not crying because Sun and his sweet warmth let you go.
“I’ll be gone for only a moment, lily pad. Hold on for me, okay?” he singsongs.
You want to snatch the heat that had held back the torturous chills. Lifting your heavy eyes, you scour the dimness of the cave, catching sight of Sun’s long body softly slipping over the stone towards the shelves that were chipped into the wall of the cavern. The rich yellow hues of his scales are bright even in the shadows of rocks. The markings along his waist and around his throat are scarlet and vibrant with warning of his venom. You watch the outline of Sun’s defined shoulders move, taking and gathering, collecting a pale pink blossom you can’t currently name.
Pressed against the wall in a sleepy bundle of his scales, Moon watches you, eyes half lidded but attentive. You didn’t hear him enter. His hands open and close, as if to reach for you. He holds back. You frown at his distance but recall his cool scales through the midnight fever, and drowsily, in fitful half-sleep, wait for Sun.
He returns with a skim over the floor. His presence washes over you with hope.
“Don’t cry, my water lily. I’m here,” Sun coaxes with gentle mirth. A crooked finger swipes the leaking liquid from your eyes.
“Not crying,” you grumble, voice croaking like a frog. “Not a water lily.”
“Oh, I’m going to have to disagree and blame your lack of sense on the sickness,” he chirps as if you were simply the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.
You pry your eyelids open for a glare. You certainly are not a beautiful and grandiose flower. Not right now in your freezing weakness.
Moon’s hissing laughter echoes. It fills you with another short burst of irate energy that lasts for only the moment of his humor. Sun tuts and shoots Moon a look before gently cradling you. The golden naga guides you upright with a tender hand supporting your back. He rests your head on his shoulder, his underside a shiny, pale cream color, and the gentle heat of his body burns away the chills holding you down. 
He lifts up a small flower, pale pink and pom-pom like on the end of a slender, green stalk.
“Eat this. It’ll make you feel better,” he softly insists.
You eye the flower as if it were a venus flytrap, and you were a particularly weak fly.
“What is it?” you murmur.
“I’ve heard humans call it a sensitive plant, sometimes called touch-me-not. If you had told me you weren’t feeling well early, you could have had this sooner.” The chasiting does not evade your awareness. Sun lowers the plant closer, as if offering a rose instead of medicine. “It will help with your fever and chills.”
“Ugh,” you turn your head ahead. The thought of eating when you have no appetite rears an ugly head within you. “I don’t need it.”
“I disagree strongly, lilypad,” Sun crones in disapproval. “Once you eat it, you’ll start to feel better.”
The soft lift to his tone invades you. You want to squirm, keep turning away from the offered medical plant, but Sun’s warmth surrounds you entirely. Gently, his finger guides your cheek until you face him once more.
“Please, won’t you, for me?” His cornflower blue eyes hold you with his plea. From the corners of his wide mouth, the very tips of fangs glint, but you’re not afraid of his bite. He saved you with his venom, once.
You grimace and force your lips to part. Murmuring praises and coaxes alike in a soft, musical tone, Sun presses the flower head to your mouth until you bite it off, and chew laboriously. It tastes green and dry. He watches you, hawk-like, ensuring you masticate the soft, brittle like petals before swallowing against the vicious dryness of your throat. You gasp after gulping.
His smile grows like a sunbeam at sunrise.
“See? It wasn’t so bad.” He tenderly rubs his mouth against your forehead. “Thank you."
The heat of his affection battles the cold underneath your skin, and when you shiver, he holds you tighter. You fall deeper under his fondness.
"This will pass and you’ll be in tip-top shape again,” he says softly, brimming with heated hope.
Oh, Sun. You want to curse him. You want to tell him that he can’t talk like that, melting your insides and making you nothing but an ooey-gooey mess, but you can’t. You are swept away by his sweet tones. 
No one but Sun unbalances you and catches you in the same motion. He’s disarming. He's the only thing that feels right.
You slump against him in another full-body shudder. Softly humming, Sun begins rearranging your limp form, draping your legs across his deliciously warm tail as the dark end wraps your lower legs. The tightness of his coils used to frighten you before you realized how summery and soft he is. He tucks you gently against his arm, lying down to become your personal pillow.
You are so useless. It’s a miracle you haven’t faded away by now—a miracle of two nagas, no less.
“It’s also called humble flower,” he continues with a soft note. “Perhaps you could take that aspect from it as well, my water lily.”
You moan, unable to offer a rebuttal that you are no flower, but his gentle embrace covers you entirely. His chest thrums lightly with a heartbeat you’ve listened to before. A soft hum fills his throat. He continues pressing his mouth against your cheek, the crook of your neck, and the top of your head as if smothering the clammy effect attempting to surface on your body.
“Soon, you’ll rise and we can stroll through the jungle and find more flowers, more flowers like you, and you’ll feel better. Doesn’t that sound nice?” he chatters endlessly.
You can only snuggle deeper against his chest, against his warm, smooth scales, better than any patch of sunlight, and trust in him.
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intistone · 7 months
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DCA Stone Heart/Naga AU!
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Pov you can randomly turn people to stone but are also a gremlin dealing with a crisis.
Based in a futuristic-medieval world, reader is a scrappy gorgon thief, looking out for themselves and ONLY themselves. They are selfish, greedy, and incredibly agile and basically WILL find all the shinies. Plus, being hunted for your head may seem like a huge concern, but hey, you turn them to stone and move on, that is all.
But….looking out for number one comes to an end when two young naga come into their life, making them question themselves and what exactly is going in the underground markers and arenas around the city…..and what exactly they’re supposed to do now.
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cailaventog · 1 month
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I know it's not accurate, but I haven't read the description doe Devil Eyes Eclipse so this is purely on what I imagine him to be like.
@naffeclipse (au owner)
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