#he’s a carpet python

[ts-witchy-archive]

Pov: you live in Australia (snek in door)

[scoriarose]

My carpet python don't want none unless you got buns, hun

She got the buns! Well, eggs actually!

A coastal carpet python (Morelia spilota mcdowelli) – “a beautiful mumma python doing an amazing job looking after her eggs” said professional snake catcher Dan Busstra. It’s not abnormal for python eggs to be fused together like this. What makes these particular eggs look unusual – and very much like a bakery treat! – is their golden brown colour:

“With carpet pythons, when they lay a clutch of eggs they do it in a big ball like that.. they’ll lay them out one by one but the mother will then wrap herself around them and bring them all up into a ball to keep them warm.”

It’s this pressure that causes the soft eggs to fuse together. 

But these clutches of fused eggs are usually white. 

“The darker colouring on top of these is because the Mum hasn’t really hidden away and they’re a little more exposed to the elements than what they normally would be,“ says Dan.

No worries though, all the eggs were healthy and little baby snakes hatched from all of them!

Source: https://www.australiangeographic.com.au/news/2023/02/no-this-snake-isnt-hugging-a-bread-roll/

[kitschyclown]

born to be besties with the pet snake forced to keep a safe distance from him lest he strangle me

[tabaquis-creatures]

you dont need to smell the camera

Editing: This is Tonic! He is a carpet python!

[inkievoid]

NSFW ALPHABET

[DI! Leon S Kennedy Edition]

❗Minors Do Not Interact ❗

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Cuddler, massive cuddler. Honestly I see Leon as enjoying his partner being cuddled up to his chest but as long as you're touching each other he really doesn't mind. He just needs to be grounded after sex because he's not use to intimacy. (Remember y'all, aftercare in important FOR EVERYBODY INVOLVED DOM/SUB/SWITCH WHOEVER!!!)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Definitely proud of his arms. Man's got two pythons where his forearms are supposed to be. I'd be proud of those bitches too. It also doesn't help how often you tend to cling to them, admire them while cuddling up together or compliment how they look when he flexes.

When Leon's asked the good old "tits or ass?" question older than time itself he smirks and simply says thighs. He loves something plush to nap on when he comes home from work. He always says it'll be a quick 30 minute nap but he's always out for 3 hours when he's laying his head on your lap. They're just such a nice pillow and even nicer wrapped around his head.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Usually prefers finishing inside. If not then on your stomach. There's just something mesmerizing about watching his cum slowly drip out of you on down your belly that just makes him so horny that he can't get enough of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Okay... So you send Leon pictures and he saves them. (He'd never share them though) But he secretly has an album in his phone labeled as WORK meticulously organization so that when you open the album it has important looking photos but if you scroll far enough it's just things you've sent him. Nudes, videos, even screenshots of steamy texts.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Decently experienced. Enough to get him by but also good at listening to his partner. Takes criticism well in the bedroom. Just wants his partner to have a good time and show that he loves you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

On your side or anything he can see your face. He's often tired so slow easy strokes on his side and using his hands is right up his alley. But for when he's feeling more energetic he's definitely up anything he can see your reaction with. He aims to please and the man is a good shot.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely 50/50. Leon can crack jokes when his life is at risk I'm sure he'd probably say something goofy to make you laugh or even something stupid like "come here often?" When you're changing positions and his creaky body pops or cracks he'll say some smart ass comment about the bed makes weird sounds again.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Definitely trimmed. Leon doesn't strike me as a massively hairy guy to begin with. But what hair he does have is well kept.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intimacy is his favorite part of it all. Very tender and soft compared to what he is during work. Enjoys the touching the most. He's very touch starved. Cuddle him and he'll melt into a puddle. He LOVES being little spoon.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jerks off often. Uses it as a stress relief thing but doesn't do it as often when he gets a partner. But I do think when he's away on cases and he has downtime at night he tends to call his partner and have phone sex.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Begging, biting, breeding, dirty talk, edging and roleplaying

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere at home. Leon would most likely be super hesitant about doing anything outside of the house and risking criminal record.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

His partners touch. Leon just really likes being touched. If you mostly just kiss him and move to his neck (it's sensitive, that's why he rarely wears anything that constricts his neck) you'll get him going in no time.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

No hitting, nothing with feet, no bathroom related stuff, no voyeurism or exhibitionism and no humiliation

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

50/50. But definitely more giving in the oral department. Uses it as a form of foreplay. Enjoys it because he loves hearing your slowly break and cry for him.

Sometimes he's just to exhausted to fuck so those are the times he'll just straight up tell you to sit on his face. He doesn't care if you're bigger, he knows you're not gonna hurt him. If you try hovering her will definitely wrap his arms around your thighs and pull you down on him. The man is skilled with his mouth and hands. So be prepared for the time of your life.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Definitely slow sensual type of guy. He likes making every moment last. But there's definitely been a flurry of passion after gets back from particularly long cases.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he has to go out for work and he has a little bit of time before leaving, most definitely he'd be down for a quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's fine with experimenting but not often.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Good for 3 rounds unless he's super tired. Last decently long, always makes sure his partner gets off first each time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Oh Leon definitely owns one of those vibrators that work with apps. Sometimes when he's due to come home and he knows you have it in you he'll just tease you on the way home.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Usually Leon doesn't tease but when he's in a particular frisky mood, he will make beg to cum. And he doesn't care if you want it. If you don't beg like he wants he will make you wait and keep bringing you to the edge over and over like an asshole.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not loud in the slightest but he's definitely not scared to moan or whimper. Even curse under his breath, especially if he has you on your side and he's right in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Said I love you for the first time during sex. Was mortified with himself, he meant it but was extremely embarrassed. Apologized profusely and told you he did mean it. And thankfully you love him back, obviously.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Ah yes, python 3. I'll be honest, I'd say he's at the higher average end in size but makes up for it in girth... Like a fucking coke can.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Leon had little to no sex drive but once you two got into a relationship he's like a teenage boy again. Can barely stop from wanting you all the time. But he's still more of the romantic intimate type and would rather just exist with you than constantly be at each other.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He clings onto life afterwards. Just wants to make sure you're taken care of but the second you relax against him he's down for the count. Like a god damn bear in hibernation.

[burningembers91]

The Fear of Feeling Nothing - Choi Su-Bong x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Not Who I Want to Be The Beauty of Vulnerability Fuscia Pink Kisses Performance of a Lifetime Vacation Mode

Synopsis: Choi Su-Bong is forced to face his addiction head on

A/N: Based on this ask

Life had been a whirlwind since you’d returned from vacation. Choi Su-Bong had barely been home, touring the country with his record label, recording songs in the studio, and giving interview after interview. You’d barely had time for each other, save for a few phone conversations and three blissful nights that he’d managed to sneak away and spend at home. You’d been renovating the apartment, painting walls, ripping up carpets and replacing kitchen cabinets, and the whole place just felt chaotic.

You knew Su-Bong was keeping himself busy on purpose. If he was busy, he wouldn’t have time to deal with his dad. The man had been calling him non-stop, leaving voicemails and text messages at all hours of the day and night. He knew he’d have to see him at some point, knew he’d have to face up to the man who had turned him into a monster.

He’d tried to explain to you what life had been like growing up, but it was hard to put it into words. You had such a great relationship with your family and couldn’t even begin to fathom the things Su-Bong had been put through. Years of his dad’s drinking, physical and mental abuse, and living in constant fear of the man who was supposed to have loved him had left their mark and Su-Bong could feel old habits trying to scratch their way back into his life.

He desperately wanted a drink, craved the numbness that came from the colourful little pills he used to pop. He didn’t have you around him to keep him grounded, didn’t have the safety of your embrace to turn to whenever things got hard. He wanted to ask you to come with him on his press tour, but you had your own work to focus on, and the apartment desperately needed sorting. He had to be strong for you, had to stay sober for you. if he lost you, life would lose it’s meaning entirely.

It was late when his phone rang, breaking through the light sleep he’d finally fallen into after hours of tossing and turning. His dad’s name flashed up on his screen and he immediately silenced the phone. There was nothing that man had to say that Su-Bong wanted to hear.

“Why don’t you block him?” you asked then next day on FaceTime, giving him a tour of the kitchen you’d be awake until 2am painting. “If you have nothing to say to him, and you don’t want contact with him, block his number.” Su-Bong had thought about doing that, but could never bring himself to do it. he wasn’t sure why, but something always stopped him just before he hit the button. “Part of me wants to know why he’s back,” he admitted. “I keep wondering if maybe he’s come to apologise.” He knew that wouldn’t be the case. His dad was a textbook narcissist, and never felt any remorse for his actions, because he never felt like he’d done anything wrong. “Would you accept his apology?” you asked. He knew the answer was no, but it didn’t stop him wondering if maybe, after all these years, his dad had seen the light.

The next day, Su-Bong had another four missed calls, and the day after that there were another three. “Please, son,” his father’s voice begged down the phone. “Just hear me out. Meet me tonight at The Python Lounge. I really need to talk to you.”

Against his better judgement, Su-Bong found himself outside his father’s favourite bar, finally relenting on the man’s request to meet up. He hadn’t stepped inside a bar since meeting you, hadn’t had a drop to drink in months. He could feel the desire clawing at his skin, could feel the insatiable thirst gripping him. He had to stay strong though, for you.

Heading inside, he couldn’t see his father but found a quiet table in the corner. The bar was a complete shit hole, the kind of place you went to drink yourself to death. Su-Bong sunk down into the booth, eager to hide his face. Not that he was worried about seeing anyone here. The bar was mostly empty, and the few people propped up on bar stools were too drunk to know their own name, let alone recognise him.

He waited, and waited, finally calling his father when an hour had gone by. His phone went straight to voicemail, so Su-Bong hung up and tried again. He was getting angrier as the minutes passed, unable to believe he’d been stupid enough to allow himself to believe his father would show up. He’d failed him his entire life, so why had he expected him to change his ways now? The need for a drink was almost overwhelming now, the heavy smell of liquor in the air making his mouth water. His chest was tightening, a sign he now recognised as a panic attack. A drink could soothe him, could calm the rising nerves.

He balled his fists, willing himself to be stronger, to be better than his addiction. He needed to leave, needed to get out of this shithole and head home to you. “Thanos?!” His heard his name, his old name, and turned around. One of his old friends stood behind him, the man who had been glued to his side at every party. He could barely even remember his name. Kang-Hun? Was that his name? It embarrassed him that he couldn’t recall. “It’s Choi Su-Bong now,” he snapped, his anger almost at boiling point. Why, when he was trying so hard to be a better person, did his past keep trying to drag him back down.

“The fuck happened to you, bro?” Kang-Hun, or whatever his name was sighed. “You just, like… disappeared.” His pupils were huge, so dilated his eyes were almost entirely black. His face was slack, his mouth slightly drooping as he attempted to focus through the haze of drugs. “I changed,” Su-Bong said, pushing himself out from the booth. “Man, we used to have so much fun,” Kang-Hun laughed. “Hey, you remember that time we did coke off that stripper’s tits? Man, that was a sick night.” Su-Bong cringed as he remembered it, the flashback making him feel sick. He’d been a horrible person back then. “Have a drink with me,” Kang-Hun smiled, slapping him on the shoulder. He was swaying in place, the combination of booze and pills wreaking havoc on his balance. “I don’t drink anymore,” Su-Bong sighed. “Listen, I’ve got to go-“ “One drink, bro. that’s all I’m asking.” Kang-Hun held his hands out. “For old time’s sake.”

Against his better judgement, Su-Bong found himself at the bar. He ordered a diet coke, but the smell of his former friend’s whiskey burned in his throat, that niggling desire itching the base of his skull. He could almost taste the warm, bitter amber liquid. “So, you’re making new music now?” Kang-Hun asked, gripping the bar as he swayed in his seat. “So fucking cool, man. why don’t we talk anymore? I miss you.” He couldn’t find the words to respond, all his energy focused on not taking a sip of alcohol. His heart was hammering in his ears, the sound almost deafening. “You seemed stressed, bro,” Kang-Hun told him, rummaging for something in his pocket. “Hey, remember what you used to say? When the feels get real, just pop a pill.”

Su-Bong wished he could go back in time and punch the old him. He’d been a real fucking prick. Kang-Hun nudged him, showing him a tin of the pink pills he’d once loved so much. “Come on, man,” he smiled. “Just one, so you can chill out.” “No,” he spat through gritted teeth. He needed to leave, needed to get in his car and drive home to you. “You’ve gone soft,” Kand-Hun laughed. “Like a chick. You all in tune with your feelings now or some shit? Just take the fucking pill, man. Feelings ain’t worth fucking shit.”

Is this what Su-Bong had been like? A junkie with no regard for other people’s boundaries? He looked at his former friend, so high off his face he could barely keep his eyes opened and wondered if this is how people used to see him. He remembered how he used to numb himself, so he’d feel nothing. He didn’t feel pain, sadness, happiness or even pleasure. He spent years feeling nothing, but now he knew that feelings, no matter how uncomfortable, made you who you were.

Kang-Hun shook the tin of pills, wiggling his eyebrows. “What do you say?” He smirked. “I’d rather feel something, than nothing at all,” Su-Bong snapped. He stood up to go, before turning around. “It’s not too late. You can get help if you want it.” “I don’t need your fucking help,” his former friend spat. “Get fucked.”

Su-Bong headed out into the night, driving back to the sanctity of the apartment he shared with you. He burst through the door, pulling you in close. “I’m covered in paint,” you laughed, but you wrapped your arms around him anyway. You could tell something was wrong, could see the pain in his eyes. His clothes smelled like stale booze, and you wondered if maybe he’d relapsed. “Did you drink?” you asked him softly. “No,” he should his head, “I went to meet my dad, but he didn’t show. I waited in the bar for hours and I wanted a drink so badly. But I didn’t drink a drop, I swear.”

He was desperate to feel you, to feel all the emotions he’d spent so long blocking out. He made love to you on the paint-stained sheets in your kitchen, feeling every curve of your body, every inch of your soft skin. He lost himself in the pleasure he had so often blocked out, relishing the way he felt inside of you, the way his body felt against yours. Tonight had been a stark reminder of what could happen if he lost his way. He didn’t want to be like Kang-Hun, didn’t to become the person he’d once been.

He needed to face his past, to confront his dad and then block him from his life. He would never again allow himself to sink into the numbness that came with addiction. But in order to free himself, he needed to confront the man that had caused the need to block out all feelings in the first place.

His dad had bailed on him tonight, but Su-Bong wouldn’t allow him to do it again. He’d faced his past head on, and now it was time his dad did the same.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Sickness Bleeds Into the Earth

Kidnapper!König progressively gets worse. I feel so bad for König in this one. That and the reader. And everyone honestly. These people are genuinely disturbed. I feel kinda like a monster for writing this.

I want to make it clear I do not condone anything that happens in this story. This is actively a story about the most messed up kind of person out there, okay? I just want you guys to know that!

With all that said, here's breakfast with König's mom and dad!

Tws: like, everything? Cannibalism references, murder references, abusive family, abuse of spouse, abuse of power, yandere, stockholm syndrome, lima syndrome, horror, psychological horror

Wordcount: 3.5K

Art from This Post

Rest of the Story Below the Cut

Sickness Bleeds Into the Earth

You woke up in the arms of König. You swore you slept apart, but at some point during the night he’d wrapped himself around you. You felt suffocated by him, surrounded by him completely like you were a mouse being crushed in the length of a python. You tried to move his arms, but instead they tightened and choked you.

“König,” you gasped, “please!”

You heard him muttering behind you.

“Wake up,” you wheezed.

He rolled, dragging you over his chest as he sprawled on his back.

Without much of a choice, you shoved your elbow into the soft of his gut.

In an instant, you were pinned under him.

“König?” you squeaked as you grabbed at the hands clasping your throats.

His cold eyes softened.

“Ah,” he gently removed his hands to hold himself up above you, still keeping you caged under his form, “what did you wake me up for?”

“You were choking me in your sleep,” you stuttered as his eyes bored into you.

“Was I?” he laughed, “I’m sorry about that. You know I’d never intentionally hurt you.”

“Do you always wake up like that?” you asked nervously.

“Only when somebody hits me when I’m sleeping,” he said smugly, “you know, there’s much better ways to wake a soldier.”

“I couldn’t breath,” you pouted pathetically.

“I know,” he kissed the tip of your nose with his snarled lips, “I don’t blame you. Just don’t do that again.”

“I won’t,” you vowed.

“Good,” he ruffled your hair and rolled off you to pull himself out of bed.

You watched the muscles of his back ripple as he pulled a shirt over himself. He looked back at you and chuffed, “I never thought I’d ever see something so beautiful when I woke up.”

You lowered your eyes to your hands woven together in front of you. You heard him pull on a pair of pants and crack his back.

“I feel so old,” he groaned, “but that’s what the military does to you. Now,” he clapped his hands, “about this morning. I should let you know that we’ll be joining my parents for breakfast. As such, have your teeth and hair done. I’ll lay out an appropriate outfit for you.”

You rubbed your eyes and yawned.

“Yes, I know you’re tired,” he said as he opened the closet, “but trust me, you’d hate me if I didn’t force you to do this. Remember, I’m always keeping your best interests in mind.”

Your feet met the plush carpet and you stretched before you got up. You stumbled to the bathroom to be met with a grisly sight.

In the mirror, twin handprints coated your throat.

“König?” you called out.

“Yes?” he trailed into the bathroom and peered over your shoulder. He looked at your neck and smiled, “Looks like I gave you a pretty necklace.”

“I can’t go downstairs like this.”

His smile dipped, “You can and you will.”

“But what will your parents think?” you hissed.

He clapped your shoulder as he walked off, “They’d be proud of me.”

With that, you were left to finish your morning routine in peace.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you looked on the perfectly made bed to see a light dress laid out.

“Is this for me?” you asked as you picked it up to examine it.

“I got it for you last time I went to town,” he said as he straightened his necktie, “I thought it would suit you.”

You slipped out of your pyjamas and set them on the edge of the bed. At one point, you had cared about modesty. König had made sure that part of you died long ago. Still, the thought of him in the shower had you flushing.

You slipped on the dress. As you zipped it up, you felt it snag. You cursed, but when you tried to fiddle with it you felt two leathery hands gently take it from your grasp. He zipped the rest of the way and then patted the space between your shoulders.

“Better?” he asked as he leaned into view.

“Much,” you agreed and smoothed out your dress. Looking down, the dress looked more like it belonged to a doll than you. Fluffy, frilly, sweet and bashful. This wasn’t the dress a woman should be wearing.

“Do you like it?” König asked as he put his hands on your shoulders.

You looked into the full length mirror on the back of the door.

“I do,” you admitted, “it makes me look…”

“Innocent,” König finished for you, “perfect for me.” He leaned into your ear to whisper, “Perfect to ruin.”

He laughed as you looked away, humiliated.

“Come on now,” he said, “you know I’d never do anything to hurt you like that. I promise I would never touch you like that unless you asked.”

“What if I never want you?” you asked.

“Well,” König thought for a moment, “if that were the case, you’d just have to get used to me using some of my toys at night.”

“Your… toys?” you asked nervously.

“My little pet,” he crooned, “I’m a man with many needs. If you can’t fill them, I’ll find a way to take care of myself.”

“So, while I’ve been sleeping downstairs…”

“Yes,” he finished for you, “every night. Even last night when you were in bed. Every. Single. Night.”

You trembled slightly. Something about the thought of König jacking off in bed beside you had your insides squirming in strange ways.

“When we’re married, will you expect me to have sex with you?” you asked and looked up under his mask.

He turned down as his eyes twinkled, “I will, but I won’t force you. Nothing unless you want me to.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you that König would grant you this dignity, yet still it helped soothe your nerves. Strange how morals restructured themselves when you only spoke to one person for months on end.

“I need to go down and make breakfast. Do you want to join me?”

It was a demand twisted into a question.

You nodded, and then followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. There, he pulled out pans and bowls and raided the fridge for ingredients.

“You can sit,” he pulled out a stool at the island for you, “I’ve got this handled.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

His eyes crinkled as he looked over his shoulder at you, “No, you’re helping plenty just by being so good for me.”

He cracked eggs into a bowl and set it aside to chop vegetables into a fine dice.

“Now,” he said, “you must understand some rules before you meet my father. For one,” he glanced up at you, “no staring.”

“No staring?” you asked.

“No staring,” he repeated, “and don’t speak to him unless given permission. That’s not your place.”

“Is that all?” you asked nervously.

“Well,” he hummed, “there’s one more thing.”

“And that is?”

“Between you and me?” he stopped chopping to lean in close and whisper, “don’t trust him.”

He went back to chopping and tossed the ingredients into a hot pan before covering it in eggs.

You stared at König silently as he stepped around the kitchen, whipping up fluffy pancakes and crispy bacon and beautiful sunny side up eggs. On another platter there were sausages, omelets, even french toast laid out before you. Everything you could possibly want for appeared at your fingertips.

When he finished, he put the trays in the oven to warm and wiped down the counters and put out the platters again.

It was then that you saw König’s parents walk into the room.

Mrs. Henker stood tall and proud as she walked in a pristine blue dress. Her lips quirked up into a smile upon seeing you and her son in the kitchen.

Behind her walked a shell of a man.

Mr. Henker was tall, taller than even König, but he walked with his body caving in on a cane that only barely supported his weight. His twisted legs strained to carry his slight form as his clothes billowed around his skeletal frame. You only met his hollow blue eyes for a second before you ripped yourself away to look at König, who gave you a short look.

The sound of the chain dragging across the ground brought back haunting memories.

“Good morning,” Mrs. Henker smiled brightly as she stepped into the kitchen to hug König, “you’ve been busy, haven’t you.”

König leaned down to give her a stiff hug before retreating to your side as Mrs. Henker took a plate in her hand.

“You know, I’m still offering to give you a few of my maids,” Mrs. Henker said as she picked bits and pieces to decorate her plate, “I have plenty in stock.”

“I have my own help Mama,” König said gently, “she’s right here.”

You subconsciously leaned into König’s side as Mrs. Henker stared you down.

“She’s only one girl,” Mrs. Henker mused, “surely one isn’t enough.”

König bristled by your side but said nothing to defend either of you.

“Anyways,” she said as she walked towards the dining table, “I’ll be seeing you both soon?”

“Yes Mama,” König said, “I’ll be right out.”

You watched the pair leave the room, taking with them the tension that followed them.

Suddenly, everything about König made so much more sense.

“I’m sorry you have to see this,” König gently rubbed your shoulders, “I promise you I won’t do that to you.”

“You mean-”

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed into your ear, “we’ll talk about this later. Now come on,” he stretched up again, “let’s get you a plate.”

You nearly dropped the dish when he handed it to you. He took your hands and held them. When you looked up, his eyes communicated an unfathomable sadness. He rubbed the backs of your hands and then took a plate for himself.

When you’d finished serving yourself, you followed König back into the dining room. You took a seat beside him as he sat across from his mother. Behind you, a taxidermy moose overlooked your pitiful meal.

“So,” Mrs. Henker cut into her omelet, “what are you thinking we’ll be doing today König?”

“Today I think we’ll be just settling in. I’m going to take my pet out with me to meet my siblings as we play some games together,” König started, “tomorrow will be preparing for the hunt, and the day after we’ll go out at dusk. The next two days will be for the wedding, and after that we’ll hold the ceremony and celebrate.”

“Any plans after that?” Mrs. Henker asked.

Mr. Henker eyes haunted you as you looked at your plate.

“I think we should have a day to recoup, and after that it’s up to you really,” König said and then looked at you, “is there anything you’d like to do?”

“Um,” you dabbed at your mouth with your napkin, “I think I’d like to have a day to relax.”

“Oh,” König laughed, “we won’t be relaxing.”

You thought for a moment and it clicked in your head. You flushed furiously and stuffed another mouthful in.

“You do seem like quite a happy couple, don’t you?” Mrs. Henker smiled as she glanced between you both.

“We have been,” König patted his hand over yours. When you looked into his eyes, they almost seemed desperate.

“It’s been incredible,” you smiled back at him. Immediately you saw his eyes relax.

“So, how did you two meet?” Mrs. Henker asked.

“I met her at a bar when I was stationed overseas,” König said, “after that, it was only natural that I chose her.”

“You went to a bar?” Mrs. Henker’s eyes sparkled, “I wouldn’t have thought you’d go to one.”

“The men in my squad liked to go,” König explained away easily, “I only came along because they invited me. But I’m glad I went,” he rubbed your shoulder, “otherwise I never would’ve met my little pet.”

“She is quite a precious thing, isn’t she?” Mrs. Henker laughed, “Fritz, don’t you remember when you were like her?”

You finally looked at Mr. Henker properly.

“I do,” his slurred voice whispered between crooked teeth.

“I miss those days,” Mrs. Henker sighed and stabbed at her omelet. She shook her head sadly, “You know König, it’s fun in the beginning, but the spark doesn’t last. I mean, if it weren’t for you and your siblings I would’ve done away with Fritz by now. You still want him, don’t you?”

“It’s nice to have him here,” König said blithely.

“Then I’ll keep him,” Mrs. Henker sighed, “you really do ask so much of me.”

“I try to be good for you Mama,” König said quietly.

“You’re little hobby is no pleasure for me,” Mrs. Henker chuffed, “it’s a headache. But the things a mother will do for her babies, you know?”

“I understand Mama,” König cut his eggs silently, “I promise I keep you in mind.”

“Good,” she replied, “you’d better make good use of the meat you get.”

“I plan to serve some for dinner tonight,” König replied.

“Oh really?” Mrs. Henker lit up, “I do love your cooking. You know, it’s so hard to find someone willing to do a good job.”

“I can imagine,” König said as he took another bite of meat, “it’s not a common hobby.”

“Hard to find anyone quite like you,” Mrs. Henker continued, “not many with the right qualities. You know,” she turned to you, “König was quite the wild child when he was younger. When he was old enough to walk, I found him crushing snails on the patio. Later, he went on to go hunting with my brother to deal with his urges. The military was a good outlet for a while, but I’ve heard you’ve gone back to your old ways since leaving.”

König glanced at you, “I do my best to repress it.”

“You always were my little monster,” Mrs. Henker fondly smiled.

You ignored how Mr. Henker shuddered beside his wife.

“Mama, please,” König chided her gently, “I don’t want you to make my little pet try and run away from me.”

“But wouldn’t that be fun?” Mrs. Henker grinned.

He shot her a dark look.

“I know you like your hunts, König. Wouldn’t you want to have a little game with your pet?” she asked curiously as she cut her bacon up primly, “think about it.”

“I am,” König said, “and I think it’s too dangerous.”

“I think you’d have fun,” Mrs. Henker cut into her sausages next, “she looks like she’d put up a good fight.”

You felt König rub a hand over your knee soothingly, “I don’t want any of my siblings getting to her.”

“Then make her your golden stag,” Mrs. Henker offered.

König’s cutlery clinked together.

“I think it would be fun! Everyone puts a claim on a target and you each hunt for your own prey though the woods. Yours would be your pet, of course. It’s only right.”

“And if I lose her?”

Mrs. Henker tossed a dry look your way, “You won’t. She’s not that clever.

You glared down at your breakfast resentfully. Beside you, König cut into his eggs silently. You watched the yolks burst and flow forth like golden ichor.

“We can do that then,” he conceded, “if you think it would be fun, then who am I to stop you?”

Mrs. Henker reached across the table to pinch König’s cheeks fondly, “I knew you’d come around.”

“Anything for you Mama.”

You tried to hide the sheer terror on your face. The sickness raged inside your stomach, begging for release. Your plate was filled with a plethora of rich foods, yet they all seem to spoil into acrid rot. All the splendor died into desert dust and burning gasoline.

Breakfast passed by quickly. With each passing remark made by Mrs. Henker, you felt a little piece of you die. By the end, you suspected that you and Mr. Henker looked much the same.

König shut the door behind you quietly. As soon as he did, you collapsed onto the bed. He watched you shudder and shake as he sat down beside you and petted your sorry form.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, “it’s over now.”

“She’s horrible,” you whimpered into your pillow.

“I know she is,” König sighed, “we all are.”

“What did she do to him?”

“Too much,” König sighed, “she took him on a whim. Unfortunately, my brother became attached to our father, and since then she used him to sire each of us. All the others were given vasectomies.”

“The others!?”

“She had a rotating series of them,” König said, “I don’t remember any of their names. They didn’t stay around long enough to bother trying to.”

“And she’s like that with everyone?” you crawled up into a ball in the blankets.

“Mostly,” König agreed, “but her family was keen on keeping us as the next generation. As such, we were raised mostly by our wet nurses and my uncles and aunts. They taught us basically everything we know.”

“So you were raised like this…” you curled your arms around your knees.

“I’m sorry my pet. When I was born, my blood was already black.”

You closed your eyes and squeezed your knees tight.

“I won’t hurt you like my mother wants me to,” König settled himself beside you and wrapped an arm over your shoulders, “I won’t let them poison you too.”

“But… But how?” you asked tearfully.

König took off his hood and let it lay by your feet. He rested his head against yours and sighed.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, “but I’m going to keep you safe.”

“Are… Are you siblings like that too?” you asked.

“Lisa is a bit like my mother. Friedrich too. Klara, who you’ve met, is more like what my father used to be. Steven is the most like him. That’s why he hates to see my mother.”

“Really?”

“My mother is… She is many things,” König intoned, “but she is my mother. Steven has all but renounced her and the family. I barely ever see him because of her. I…” you heard him sniff, “I miss my brother, pet.”

“Do you think he misses you too?”

König cackled and shook his head, “If he does, it wouldn’t matter anyways. He’s too scared of letting me meet his family. He’s scared of all of us. He’s right to be afraid, but it hurts sometimes.”

You slowly felt yourself lean into König’s side as you asked, “You’re not actually going to hunt me, are you?”

König held you tight, “Of course I will. I won’t disappoint my mother. But… I can make things easier for you.”

“How though?”

König closed his eyes and hummed.

“When we go out,” he began, “you will be blindfolded and stripped of everything. When you’re released, you’ll have a collar and you’ll be told to run.

"When you’re set out, go north as far as you can. You’ll be able to get into the back garden. In…” König’s breath hitched, “well it’s won't matter, you’ll know by then. Go into the shed. You’ll find the key in the mouth of the pot. Once you’re in, take whatever tools you can and prepare yourself. 

“My siblings may not be able to claim you, but they’ll want a taste.”

You felt like your bones would break at the slightest squeeze. Your heart pitter-pattered like song birds singing in a bramble bush.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” you said under your breath.

“I won’t,” König assured you, “but they might. If you can prove your strength to them, they’ll be good to you when I marry you.”

“And if I don’t?”

König barked out a laugh, “I’d be lucky to get you back in one piece then.”

You curled into König’s side and shook like an aspen tree. He gently petted your sides and soothed you.

“You’ll make it,” he assured you, “I believe in you. You can be strong.”

“Why didn’t you tell her no?” you cried, “you could’ve protected me.”

“I couldn’t have,” König’s voice cracked, “it’s not my choice to make. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m only doing what I must,” he grit his teeth and shuddered, “I don’t get to make these choices.”

“Why do you let your mother do this to you?” you sobbed, “do you really love her that much?”

König laughed and fell back on the bed. He pulled you onto his chest and took you cheeks in his hands.

“I do,” he said, smiling despite the tears leaking out of his eyes, “I do and I hate myself for it.”

You dropped your head to his heaving chest and sobbed pitifully.

“Your mother…” you cried, “she’s… she’s…”

“She’s my mother,” König laughed again, “I love her, but I know I’m supposed to hate her. I know what she is, deep down. I see her for who she truly is.”

“And that is?”

“She’s just like me.”

Konig Dump

Konig Alternate Universe

Kidnapper!Konig

[lingrimmart]

"Brazilian rainbow boas can be somewhat nervous snakes. Babies are born striking at anything, but with regular, gentle handling they can tame down quite nicely to become acceptable pets. As baby rainbow boas, let them strike at you, bite you and even chew on you. This will show them you will not be chased away by those actions and they will soon learn the big bad hand is nothing to be afraid of." (с) us-reptile

I dunno why, but our baby rainbow is super chill. What’s surprising is that before we took him in, he’d never been socialized. So, it makes me wonder - is he just special, or is the idea that rainbows aren’t naturally calm only true half the time? I’ve met plenty of rainbows from all over the globe who are gentle, soft, and never strike.

From our experience so far, I’d say both rainbow boas and carpet pythons make fantastic pets. I honestly can’t say anything bad about them. They might not be the perfect FIRST snake, only because they need specific humidity levels to, well, not die. But even with that in mind, I still think they’re an excellent choice for a second snake (unless your first was something super easy like a ratsnake, and it's almost too easy to gain the experience needed for pythons/boas).

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 2

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies you also die. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes.

Part 2 summary: Escape is futile

Part Pilot

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And the winner is Python!"

I turned my head from the bloody sight. I had brutally murdered an innocent fighter like myself. But I had to do it. It was my only chance out of here and they were far too mentally gone to even have a chance at a normal life.

I pushed myself up on one foot and limped to the gate. The crowd above roared my fighter name and bets were being collected. My master picked me up and looked down at my injured foot. Usually a head collar was strapped on to keep me from using magic against him, but he had recently gotten more comfortable without it.

I flicked my wrist behind his back. The sweat from my forehead jumped off and sliced through his throat. He dropped me and fell, clutching his throat. I scrambled to my feet and bolted around the cages containing my brothers and sisters in fighting. I ran past the unknowing guard at the gate and into the crowd.

I could taste the sweet taste of freedom beyond those fences. All I had to do was hide in the woods until dawn. It was easy. The crowd didn't know what was happening and people often tried to run out on a poor bet. No one would interfere.

Except one.

Rope wrapped around my throat and snapped my head backwards. The force slammed my back into the cold ground. I coughed violently as I pulled the rope loose. Spit fell out of my lips as I looked up. Standing on the other end of the rope was Striker, a Full mage who liked to terrify others with his illusionist demonic appearance.

He pulled on the rope and it tightened again. I slipped my hand under it and tried to dig my chin between my neck and it. He pulled even tighter, rougher, and pulled me forward, forcing me to fall on my stomach. I sent wind and dirt but he casted a shield of around himself.

I looked to the side and pretended to lift something. His glance was all I needed. I leaned forward and pulled the rope over my head. I barely made two steps before something caught my foot. I tried to pull that one off but the ropes kept coming. My neck, my shoulder, my wrist, and my knee. I flailed and threw every magic I could at his ropes. Yet it did nothing. A Slight hand was no match for a Full mage.

Henchmen appeared and pulled the ropes in different directions. It was mere seconds to have me completely immobile on the cold ground. Striker stepped inches from my face before kneeling down and grabbing my chin. He lifted the rope around my neck at the same time, painfully contorting my neck in what felt like a 90 degree angle.

"Looks like you're mine now, sweetheart," he purred, "'til the day you die." He let go of my head and my face slammed down into the pavement.

I jerked my head up from the pillow with a yelp. I found myself in an old, dusty room with sunlight streaming in from the window. I sat up and examined every inch of the room. How the hell did I get here?

I tried to think past the nightmare but was met with a mental block. Who's house was this? Why am I here? When did I change into a white gown? Who's bed is this?

I put my feet on the cold carpet and padded over to the window. I looked out at a wide open sea and a sheer cliff-face. That's when it connected. I had evaded the worse fighter master for five years and landed right in the claws of the Radio Demon.

A light knock came at the door. I dove into the corner and put my hand up, ready to cast at a moment's notice. But the person who entered wasn't the Radio Demon, but a different one. He resembled a combination of a cat and bird, his entire body covered in gray and white fur and his wings a gorgeous bright red. He had a black top hat sitting between his ears.

"You're awake," he said, "Good. Your clothes are in the wardrobe. Alastor wants to speak with you before he leaves so hurry up." He shut the door.

My neck hairs bristled at being told what to do. I didn't waste five years of freedom to be told what to do again solely because my soul happened to be bound to the worse Full mage of the century.

Yet there was nothing I could do.

I opened the wardrobe to find old dresses that looked like they were from the 1930s. Maybe the 40s or 50s? They were old, that much was obvious. Not my style, either.

Now he's dressing me.

I swallowed hard and picked a long skirt and button down. I locked myself in the bathroom, grateful that it had a lock, and quickly dressed. The sink had a bowl of water in it which told me this old house didn't have working pipes.

I gently splashed my eyes with the ice cold water to wake myself up. I found an old brush in one of the drawers and brushed out my messy hair. It had taken nearly three years to really understand how to take care of this hair. I had grown it out after escaping the rings to make myself more unnoticeable.

I let out a sigh. I closed my eyes and took a moment to ready myself for the next encounter with the mage. He couldn't kill me. He would kill himself in the process. If he tried to keep my in a cage like the others a little self harm should do the trick. I had options. I could handle this. I had handled worse. Right?

Outside the room wasn't much better off. The floorboards caved under my weight and spewed dust up in my face. I sneezed a few times on my way down, careful not to touch anything in case it disintegrated upon contact.

The staircase to the foyer was tight and narrow. I could clearly see the deep purple and dark brown accents of the house now. It didn't exactly look pretty. Though I couldn't imagine much thought was put into any part of this old house.

I turned at the last step to find my soulmate standing by the cold fire. He seemed to be looking at something before he spun to face me. His eyes looked me from head to toe and back again. My fingers tightened into a fist subconsciously.

"Mm, it'll do." I bristled at the comment but he crossed the living room in seconds to stand in front of me. I took a step back. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine."

"Come sit, I have much to tell you before I leave." He stepped to the side and gestured to the room. His other hand was behind his back holding his cane; the cane that made me feel like I was always being watched with the creepy little eye on it.

I looked up at his red eyes before forcing myself to walk into the room and sit on one of the hideous old chairs. He sat on the other one on the opposite side of the fireplace and crossed his legs elegantly. I crossed my ankles and put my hands in my lap. I hated dresses but I had watched enough women and explored the internet enough to know how to sit 'properly'. He seemed like the type to correct me on manners.

"I'll make this simple since I have places to be," he started, "My rules are very simple. Rule number one, you're not to leave the premises. You have until the tree-line before you're considered off this property. Rule number two, you can go anywhere in the house except for my room and office. They're beside each other on the second floor. Don't worry, they're locked so you can't mistake them for another room." His eyes narrowed a tad. "Rule number three, don't bother me. You can do anything you like, request nearly anything from Husker, but do not disturb me."

"May I ask a question?" I ventured. My head was tilted down a little and my eyes glared up at him.

"Yes you may." He laid his cane on his lap.

"If you want nothing to do with me, why the hell are you keeping me here?"

"Silly girl," he chuckled, "I told you last night. I need not worry about my soulmate dying in wasteful ring fights. If you die, I die. Not to mention, if people discovered we were connected you would undoubtedly find yourself against very powerful mages that could kill you in half a second." I gritted my teeth, unsure of how to respond. "And as I said last night, you should be grateful that I'm providing you with a safe haven."

"A safe haven that's about to collapse?" I remarked, looking around at the dusty boards and picking at the old ratted chair.

"Well," he laughed, "if you're bored you could always fix up the place."

"Can't you do that with your oh-so-powerful magic?"

"I have more important things to use my magic on. Besides, your Slight magic should be enough to fix up the things you need." I was about to argue when he abruptly stood up. "Well, I must be going now. I do hope I won't have to remind you of my rules. They are rather simple and easy to follow. Good day." He didn't bother to use the door, disappearing into the shadows and melting into the floor.

I stared at where he had disappeared for a long moment. My eyes then trailed around the room, examining its every inch. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Boards creaked and I looked over to see Husker appearing from the hallway. "I'm sorry to hear that you have a shitty soulmate," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

"I never believed in soulmates, really." I stood up to walk over to him. We looked roughly the same height until I got closer and discovered to be a few inches taller. "Is there a reason why you're...here? With him?"

"I'm under Alastor's service for an extended period of time," he answered, turning back down the hallway. I followed him through the narrow entryway and came to an old kitchen. "He told me I'm to fulfill most of your requests."

"Why do you listen to him?"

"For my own reasons," he growled, "I'm not about to let you run off, if that's what you're trying to get at. He can't kill you but he can kill me, and he will if I let you run off."

"Right." I quietly left the room to explore the rest of the house. Next to the kitchen was the dinning room. It was full of random old furniture that looked like someone had dumped the insides of a victorian home here. It circled back to the staircase and sitting room. On the other side of the sitting room was a library study. The books looked like they were nests for spiders, moths, and bookworms.

Upstairs had another sitting room but was mostly filled with old bedrooms and bathrooms. I quickly discovered which rooms belonged to Alastor. Directly across from 'my' bedroom were two locked doors side by side. So long as he came and went at early or late hours of the day, I could avoid him easy.

Escaping shouldn't be hard, though. A pang of guilt went through me as I thought of Husker having to deal with the repercussions. He was obviously a Full mage if he could conjure up a demonic illusion like that. Though what for while he was here, I'm not sure. Perhaps a scare tactic. I shook the thought from my head. I had killed people with my bare hands on the concept of "Me or them". This would be no different.

"Say," I found Husker drinking something in the kitchen, "could we fix the pipes so we can have running water?"

Husker shrugged. "Sure. You want to help?" The side glance his black eyes made me want to incline.

"Sure."

Outside had a cool, ocean breeze crossing the field. I instantly found the tree line Alastor spoke of. The first challenge of escaping would be crossing the field. There was nothing to hide behind or use for a shield. I had to buy time to cross the field and take shelter in the dense trees.

Husker went to the side of the house where an old well stood a few paces from it. He put his hands on the ground and seemed to search through the earth. A moment later he snapped his black eyes open and looked up at me.

"Clean out the well and dig further down until you reach water." He said as he pointed to the stoned circle. I stood on the side that put it between me and Husker. I had heard too many tales of people losing their life to a deep well.

Husker fixed the pipes underground and through the house while I fixed the source. I knew my next request to him was to allow me more clothes that fit my style. And more pants. I kept quiet until the brown water turned into pristine, clear running water from all the faucets.

I dried my hands on my dress in the kitchen and asked, "How did you know I had magic?"

"Alastor told me."

"Right."

"I've also seen you in the fight rings before."

"You what?" I bristled.

"Relax," he grabbed the same bottle from the counter, "I wasn't a master or anything. I was running the bets and gambling." That didn't make me feel any better. How could he just let them keep those fights going? His appearance gave me my answer.

So I changed the subject. "How would you suggest I ask you for different clothes? These aren't exactly right for me." I looked down at the elongated skirt.

He let out a sigh and pulled out a phone. My heart quickened. "Find what you're looking for and screenshot what you want. Then tell me your size."

"You know, that's not exactly how sizes for women work," I tried. "One size in one store could be very different than another."

"Then pick one store and tell me what sizes," he replied. My heart dropped and I took the phone from him.

****

I gave myself a week before my first escape attempt. I had to know Alastor's schedule and Husker's routine. I also need to ensure they weren't bracing for my first attempt. A week should be long enough, surely.

Alastor left in the mornings before or right at dawn and returned at some point well after dusk. Husker preferred to be in the living room or on the outside porch drinking alcohol. I guessed that he had some kind of magic that kept the effects of alcohol to a minimum so he could still keep an eye on me. I made it a habit to join him on the porch most of the time, reading the one book I could think of off the top of my head for him to get.

Alastor had made two more rules since my arrival. Well, one official rule and one implicit. The explicit one was no unsupervised internet access. No phone, no computer, nothing. I had no connection to the outside world.

The implicit rule was my clothing style. Any 'modern' clothing that was even close to being considered immodest disappeared from my wardrobe the next day. This meant he was keeping a close eye on me despite his rules to keep as much distance between the two of us as possible. I had to be careful. I didn't know what type of magic he was using and if he could see me at any point.

But I was ready.

It was a blue evening, the setting sun hidden behind a raincloud. The rain hadn't quite reached us yet but the strong gusts were moving the clouds closer and closer. As much as I didn't want to escape on a rainy night, it was the best chance I had. Muddy conditions and rain made it difficult to see and operate in. For most people. Most likely for Full mages who were used to having everything handed to them on a plate thanks to their power.

Husker had just finished another one of his whiskey bottles and went inside for another. I whispered an apology as the door closed and I stood up from my chair. I used my magic to push against the wood from underneath so they didn't creak. I jumped the stairs and as soon as my feet hit the grass I ran.

I pushed wind against my back to help carry me across the field. My heart pounded in my ears as I reached the tree line and disappeared behind the closest large tree. I sank to the ground and peaked around the tree. I didn't see Husker yet.

I turned and ran further into the forest. The wind from the storm made it easy to maneuver through the dense forest. I had no idea where the closest town or city was but I needed to put as much distance between me and the house as possible.

There was no notion of time as I kept running. My legs burned and chest hurt but I didn't dare stop until I could barely stand. I pushed through the pain and veered off to the side, hoping they would search in the other direction. The rain had started and trees bent against the strong winds, pushing back as best they could. I took this as my cue to find a hiding spot until the storm cleared up.

I picked one of the trees and started pulling up the dirt and roots. I would dig myself a little burrow and wait out the storm. The wind pulled aggressively on my clothes and hair. It felt incredibly strong for a storm and it made my blood run cold. I frantically looked around in search of the bright red of Alastor's coat or Husker's wings. This wasn't natural wind. This was from magic. They were searching for me.

The trees practically uprooted themselves as the wind pushed against them, opening the forest floor to the sky for a moment. I briefly saw Husker's red wings in the sky before the trees cut my line of sight. I dove to the side before the trees opened again. I felt like a field mouse running from a coyote in the field grass.

Husker dropped through the canopy and locked eyes with me. He curled his claws inward and the tree branches reached for me. I pushed against them with wind and snaked through their reaches. I stayed as close to the ground as I possibly could. I needed someplace to defend, somewhere that he couldn't reach me. The forest was proving to be a horrible idea.

Wind and fire were my best friends as I evaded and burned the branches that grabbed at me. Husker went back to the skies and attempted to create a wall with the trees. A branch caught my foot and dragged me towards its trunk. I opened the earth near it and pulled its roots up. I used the storm and pushed the tree all the way down. I jumped into the ditch and pulled the roots back over me, partially covering me from the sky. Husker flapped overhead, arms crossed.

I dug into the earth and filled it up behind me. The further down I went the farther I was from the reach of the trees. Several times he tried to catch me with the roots but he couldn't see me anymore. I had broken his line of sight. That's how you defeat a Full mage, I realized. If the mage couldn't see you, then they didn't know what they were doing.

I picked a random direction and started tunneling again. I didn't get far, though, as I realized my great fault. I had filled most of the earth behind me and it cut off my airway. It was freezing this far down and I was lacking oxygen. I was suffocating. I was already sweating and exhausted but not I was truly fighting for my life.

Praying that they were digging after me in the original spot, I start tunneling back up. Going up was far easier than going down but I was already exhausted, physically, mentally, and magically. I had to take several stops, struggling to breathe.

After what felt like an hour, I reached tree roots. I grabbed hold of one and used the last of my magic strength to pull myself through the dirt. I clambered through the dirt and sucked in the fresh air. I frantically looked around, half expecting Husker to jump on me from behind. But he was nowhere in sight. The light rain had turned into a downpour but the tree I was under gave me enough shelter from it.

I looked around for several moment before collapsing against the trunk. I took deep breaths of the sweet fresh air and let the rain drops patter on my face. Had I done it? Were they digging after me or looking elsewhere for my tunnel exit? It didn't matter. I just needed a few minutes to recover.

"Well done."

My breathing caught in my throat. I looked up to see Alastor leaning against the tree staring down at me. His smile was still plastered on his face and the sarcasm was heavy. I scrambled to my feet and backed away from him.

"I must say I'm impressed that you managed to evade Husker but I'm sorely disappointed that you can't follow simple instructions." He was leaning forward enough this he was at my eye level and creeping towards me.

“I'm disappointed you thought I would just stay put like a pet," I returned with heavy breathing. I was so tired. I didn't know if I had the energy to run from him.

He chuckled at my retort. "I knew you would attempt to run. You watched my schedule. You knew I wouldn't be back until later. I know exactly how your mind works."

“Do you, now?" Using my peripherals, I willed the roots from the nearest tree to uproot and wrap around his legs, making sure not to touch him yet. "Then you'll know that a cornered animal fights back until they die." I snapped the roots tightly around him. He looked down and I ran. I was so tired but desperation kept my blood boiling in all my fights.

I used the strong wind and rode it into the sky. I threw myself as high as I could and looked around. It was nothing but trees. No town, no city, no house, absolutely no sign of humanity. I was in the middle of nowhere.

I dropped into the trees and hide among the branches, eyes desperately scanning the ground. I leaned back to sit on my heels but the strength in my arm had disappeared. I lost my grip on the branch and fell backwards, hitting branches on my way down.

I landed hard on my back and felt a crack run through my spine. I sucked in a gasp of air and stared up at the gray sky. I gripped at the wet grass and tried to pull my strength back in. Alastor appeared above me a moment later, smiling down at my paralyzed body. He knelt beside my head so his ugly yellow smile came closer to my face.

"This suites you," he said, "this desperation. You're trying so hard to escape no matter what it does or if it kills you." He pushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Unfortunately for you, it matters to me because we share the same fate."

"Fuck you."

His smile lessened slightly. "I'll add another rule for you to follow." He grabbed my throat and hoisted me to my feet. His claws dug painfully into my skin until I could feel my blood soaking my shirt. He pushed me against a tree and leaned in close to my face. I pulled on his wrist and tried not to cough in his face. "Rule number five. Never speak to me in such a way again." He paused. "Words like that are unbefitting for a woman."

"You can..." I struggled to speak clearly, "you can...keep me here but...but I'm...but I will not play...play by your rules." My heart was racing as his grip tightened even more so. He dies if you die. He dies if you die. I repeated in my head.

He let go of me and I fell face first into the ground. I gasped and coughed up spit as I rubbed my throat. "Give it time." I saw his feet walk around to stand in front of me. "I can be very persuasive."

[mysticalcats]

what type of snake is plato? He’s such a cutie patootie

he's a carpet python! :] 💕

[graveltrapping]

F1 Grid as Animals

Was drawing my leonin dnd character and he somehow ended up looking like Max, which obviously had me thinking about the whole Dutch Lion stuff, and then what animal I would associate with the other drivers based on looks, region, and personalities.

Max Vertsappen - Transvaal Lion (obvious reasons and Transvaal sometimes have a naturally have a lighter coat.)

Checo Perez - Chocolate Labrador (look friendly but are still considered a gun dog)

Daniel Ricciardo - Honey Badger (for obvious reasons but also they are know to take on and defend against lions in the wild)/Doberman or Beauceron with floppy ears (ears get snipped at Mclaren)

Yuki Tsunoda - Japanese Sparrowhawk (can be aggressive despite their smaller size. Great agility)

Liam Lawson - Bull Terrier (The look really similar, idk how to explain it)

Isack Hadjar - Striped Hyena

Carlos Sainz - Spanish Fighting Bull/Black Andalusian Horse

Charles Leclerc - Thoroughbred Horse/ European Hare

Lando Noriss - Irish Red Setter (again, a family friendly gun dog. Has the curls)

Oscar Piastri - Whistling Kite (not as aggressive as other birds of prey but still a very agile hunter)

Lewis Hamilton - Black Leopard

George Russel- Sika Deer (very gorgeous but has an aggressive streak)

Kimi Antonelli - Roe Deer

Fernando Alonso - Iberian Red Fox (opportunistic and adaptable, epitome of cunning)

Lance Stroll - Moose

Alex Albon - Clouded Leopard (incredibly elusive and are great ambush predators)/Greater Racket Tailed Drongo (will be aggressive and take on larger predators if threatened. Also flashy courting rituals lol)

Franco Colapinto - Pampas Fox

Logan Sergeant - American Golden Retriever

Nico Hulkenberg - Long Haired German Shepherd

Kevin Magnussen - Eurasian Eagle Owl/Eurasian Brown Bear

Ollie Bearman - Black Bear

Esteban Ocon - Picardy Spaniel (French working breed)

Pierre Gasly - Alpine Chamois

Jack Doohan - Kangaroo/ Carpet Python (big and strong Australian and just pure vibes)

Valteire Bottas - Finish Forrest Reindeer

Zhou Guanyu - Leopard Cat

Gabriel Bortoleto - Maned Wolf

Drawings done while I was high and a bit tipsy lol

[britishraptor]

Gonna kick the hornets nest here, but the file from the most recent episode of The Magnus Protocol was incredibly underwhelming. It didn’t take into account at all anything that actually makes snakes scary, little to no foreshadowing, and basically attempted to jumpscare the audience with a reveal that reads more like a parody of a horror story than an actual one.

I might look like an idiot or a fool when everything all strings together later than the line, but I’m questioning so much about this episode.

Parasites are scary. Worms, and insects and mold and rot. Decay, possession. Spiders are scary because they’re hard to see, hard to pinpoint and they move fast, plus the connections with webs related to control, and manipulation. So yeah, a worm lady, sure, a person filled with spiderwebs, also sure. But the only connection between snakes and parasitism could be a joke about ‘shedding your skin’ or how disturbing that one scene in Harry Potter was.

Snakes are scary for two reasons:

1) the same reason bears and tigers all that are scary. Hunt style being hurt, and killed, and eaten. Simple.

B) uncanny valley reasons. Snakes don’t blink. They don’t have facial expressions. The way they move and eat and exist is totally different from humans and mammals. They’re often described as alien and cold.

My questions:

a) why rodent control? why was he even actually brought in? His walls are FULL OF SNAKES. It wouldn’t have lasted five minutes. It doesn’t make any sense even if you know he was concerned about parasites. Snakes don’t give a shit about other snakes. To call someone a snake is to literally call them callous and prone to betrayal. A snake eats the rodent, so you kill the snake. Plus a snake store would have access to medications to kill mites and deal with snake illness? Why call the guy at all?

b) the foreshadowing on the owner is terrible. You could have mentioned his skin needed moisturising. That it seemed dry, flaky. Scaly. But just. A red rash? A rash? Are you saying being full of snakes is an infectious disease? That’s what he said at the end, right? That his throat itches. It was swelling. You can just?? Grow your own snakes?? Is that the implication?

No uncanny valley mention on the owner either at all. He didn’t move weird, being full of snakes? Didn’t sway or limp as he walked, didn’t move sluggishly? Bad hearing, didn’t know what to do with his hands? No? Just a short tempered customer. Okay.

c) You lost me at the thousands of snakes. THOUSANDS? What is this, a clown car? A snake clown car in some random guys skin, who explodes because he was mad a customer walked out.

Look, I’m Australian. And when I ask my friends ‘hey, how big do you normally picture a snake being?’ we picture snakes about 1.5m long. Dinner table length is pretty common for all of our common brown, tiger snakes, red bellies, and even longer for our common carpet pythons. But even if I adjust to like, other countries’ grass snakes, thousands?

The throwaway line at the end was plot relevant I’m sure, but I’m all around confused, and totally not even a little bit scared.

The only praise I have is that the description of the crickets was very creepy, and I loved the visual of them moving around like a shuddering wave of pixels on a screen, only really perceived by their screaming.

But yeah. The setup, the foreshadowing, the coherent theming and consistency all just fell totally flat for me. The only thing I learnt was that this guy applied to the institute and was rejected, and that snakes can’t do dishes.

[cy-cyborg]

I really don't like the way people talk about snakes, especially here in Australia. I know a lot of folks are afraid of them and phobias are real and valid but the sheer hatred some folks have for them just makes me sad.

Like I just saw a tik tok of a beautiful wild carpet python climbing off someone's roof into a tree and in the video the person filming is going on about how feral and gross it was, and telling her kid (off screen) how they're so gross and ucky. Based off his voice the kid seemed to be having a good time watching it but the person filming just kept reiterating how ucky it was until he started repeating it back. I get teaching your kids to stay away but you can do that without demonising an important part of our ecosystem.

And my god, the comments. "The only good snake is a dead snake" "it needs a good shovel to the head" etc

I had a bunch of similar comments filtered from when I posted videos of my snake (an albino carpet python named nugget) when he was unwell too. I was posting in hopes someone would know a way to make his vet treatment less stressful on him. I even put content warnings on some of the videos of him because I respect that some people just really don't like them and I wanted to give those folks the chance to just scroll away. You don't have to like them, but why do so many people feel the need to be so mean to them/about them.

Nugget is doing fine now btw.

[theauspetchronicles]

My partner's new pet! He's a Bredls' Python, often confused for a carpet python! His name is Mr Snake, despite my arguing

I love the name Mr Snake

[fishfingersalad]

Caboose is the kinda guy to own a billion different pets, many of which are rescues. You just know he has a pet tarantula that he lets free roam in Church's room (her name is fluffy and Church despises her), and a carpet python that Tucker hates ("Get your slimy fucking snake away from me!!!" "He's not slimy! Snakes don't have slime. Are you thinking about a snail maybe?"). He also has several crabs and a catfish. And his chinchilla, of course.

In a similar vein I think Doc has a pet axolotl or two.

[hyenabrainedpup]

Kumba too <33 he never gets handled so i never have photos of him

Hhmmmmmmm lets snakepost <3 haribo