#red blood python

[fimbry]

Speaking of defensive bloods, here's Red Vinegar! She's photographed in the tub because she is too insecure to be let loose on the open (scary, exposed) floor for photos.

Python brongersmai

[yvain]

Megan Fox in knitted leg warmers and short-shorts, a puffy coat and red fishnets, a color guard uniform, an Evil Dead raglan tee and star-spangled underwear, a cropped hoodie and low-rise jeans, an Edwardian prom dress with long white opera gloves. A wet strand of hair drawn through her mouth. Swimming naked in a lake glassy with twilight. Blackening the tip of her tongue with a lighter. In hunger, wan and beautiful as a consumptive heroine. Levitating. Snarling. Doe eyes, full and glossed lips. Dropping onto a car like a wild cat. Projectile vomiting an unctuous, inky liquid onto her best friend. Teeth like a nurse shark. A distended, disarticulated jaw like a python. Jennifer’s body on a sacrificial altar, sobbing. Jennifer’s body moving eerily from a great distance; then too close, and from the wrong angle. Jennifer pulling a rod out of her shish-kebabbed torso, saying, through a mouth of blood, “Do you have a tampon?” Jennifer’s body underlining the politics of Jennifer’s Body; a sex symbol through a funhouse mirror. (The film’s execs thought she’d be a draw for teenage boys, but teenage boys hated it. They didn’t know they were coming to be eaten. Not like that.)

Carmen Maria Machado, “Both Ways,” in It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror (ed. Joe Vallese)

[cybsoo2]

nightmare

╰┈➤ synopsis — After being kidnapped by two men who say they’re obsessed with you, your new reality has become your worst nightmare. But you should’ve known that your mind is capable of conjuring up much more menacing monsters; dreams so disturbing that they leave you seeking comfort from the two people you hate the most.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!tyunning x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 2.4k

╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, implied/referenced stalking, implied/referenced kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, crying, nightmares, dreams of an assault (didn't happen), angst, hurt/comfort

Every day must come to an end. That little bit of happiness you have flickers out like the lightbulb up above. 

Hyuka is off in the other room, not willingly of course, but because Taehyun had asked him to check over the bedroom. Locking the doors and bolting the windows is all a part of the routine. Everyday at dawn and dusk, Taehyun’s paranoia is like a little pest in his head. Whispering scenarios of all the terrible things that could happen if you aren’t tucked safety away in this house and in their arms. 

You think it’s possessive how he controls your life and keeps you contained– like a little plaything that no one else gets to touch. But Taehyun thinks otherwise, all too aware of how much worse it could really be. He calls it security, keeping you under lock and key. Healthy and ‘happy’ without witnessing the horrors of the rest of the world. 

When Kai comes back from double checking all the doors and windows, he’s drawn back to you like a magnet. Forever stuck by your side is where he wants to be. His grip is like a python as he drags you under the silk sheets. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight to his chest like he does every other night. His touch is like poison as it pumps through your blood. You’re sick of feeling caged up like his pretty little pet. You try to shift away from him, desperate for a bit of space, but it’s useless.

Kai ignores your efforts and kisses along your shoulder. Trying to soothe you to sleep because he knows how much you hate it. Not only do you need to get a full night’s rest, but you need to accept that instead of fighting with him, you should give in to the comfort he’s trying to offer.

The devil dances in your dreams, tormenting you in the only place they can’t protect you. Just thinking about the fact makes Kai’s heart squeeze. Sad at the thought that he’s unable to take all your worries away. But that doesn’t mean he can’t at least try. So he holds you in his warm embrace whether you want it or not. Humming a little lullaby that sends vibrations through your body. 

You can hear the distant sounds of Taehyun in the dark, shutting off the lights and laying down beside you. He pulls the covers up to your chin, keeping your warmth stuck under the sheets. 

Bundled up in the blankets and being sung to sleep, you’re starting to succumb to the night. Sleep starts taking over your bones and breaking down your resolve. And after resisting the urge for far too long, you become a slave to your somnia.

Your dreams are worse than reality. Warped and wicked, they’re full of your worst fears. Blurred visions tear into your brain. Visions of two men ripping you up and taking all the pieces for themselves. 

There’s blood everywhere. Staining your skin and spilling onto the floor. It’s warm and red and you find yourself wondering if it’s yours? You can’t even feel the pain anymore, numbed to nothing. Not even flinching as they betray your body. 

Your clothes are torn to shreds. Fragile flesh exposed for their eyes to wander. You curl in on yourself, trying to cover up all that you can. But no matter how hard you try to hide, these monsters still taunt you.

Phantom images of hands all over you. They graze over your skin then grip you tight; a touch that feels all too real. In your dazed dream, you use all your strength to try and swat away these hands. Breaking free from the feeling of fingers digging into your skin. They leave red marks, burning every inch that they touch. 

In the distance, there’s the sound of crying. You raise your hands to your ears, trying to stop the screeching sound. But when the noise still ceases to stop, you realize it’s coming from your own two lips. So many sounds overwhelm you. It’s everything at once– the screaming, the crying, and sounds of someone calling your name. You just wish it would all stop.

You’re torn from your dream by the two who hold you close. Shooting up from your sleep, you try to tear their hands away– a part of you still stuck in your nightmare. 

You’re trembling in terror with tears falling from your eyes. You turn in on yourself, hugging your stomach tight to soothe the sadness. Self-comfort is familiar. It’s all you’ve ever known in this life; shielding away from the shadows and hiding how you cry between your knees. It’s worked every other time, but now is not like the others. Darkness dances in the moonlight– like shadows, it smothers you. The nightwalker knocks on your chest. Hammering like your heartbeat, begging to be let into your bones. Fear festers under the skin, swimming in your tears and mixing with your blood. It consumes you until you can’t take it anymore.

Taehyun is the first to take in your state of panic. He sits right in front of you, hands on your shoulders and knees knocking against your own. He takes hold of your face, a warm hand holding each cheek. He makes a move to try and lift up your gaze, wondering what demons lay beyond your eyes. He’s never seen you so scared– not when the stalking started, not when their obsession began to grow, not even when they finally took you as their own. And as you stare up into his almond eyes, he suddenly finds himself unaware of what to do.  

You look up at the face of the man before you. A man that usually you couldn’t stand the sight of, but now, you find yourself betrayed by his beauty. Sympathy stains his pale skin like a porcelain doll. His painted expression a pure picture of pain and turmoil. This mask is much different then the one he’s used to wearing. No more stern eyes or apathy, because in this stolen moment, he’s someone he’s not pretending to be. 

It only takes a second before you’re falling into his embrace. Warm arms wrap around you. Cradling you close to his chest. Taehyun’s heart beats in tune to yours, pumping blood at a rapid pace. He thinks he can hear it echo out in the room with how loud it is. An unsteady beat that reverberates off his ribcage.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’ll be okay.” His gentle tone meets your ears. Voice soaked in sympathy with that rough edge, still addled with the sleep he was so quickly awoken from. 

Kai watches the interaction from his side of the bed. Shivers run along his skin and a chill cradles him close. He can still feel the ghost of your warm embrace, but now all the heat has vanished and he’s left with the sight of your sadness. Despite still being tangled up in the sheets and sweating from the long-sleeve he wears, he couldn’t feel more frozen. Nothing but a cold body without your warmth. Kai can’t imagine himself without you wrapped around him. He’s a clay sculpture, every trait and every feature carved by your hand. You truly mold him into the man he is. And now that your tears are falling and that fire has burnt out, Kai is the emptiest he’s ever been.

He cuts the distance between you and crawls over to where you sit. Ever so carefully, he covers you with his weight. Draping his whole body over you until you’re hidden from all the eyes in the dark. No one else able to see you but the two lovesick boys by your side. 

Hyuka’s weight doesn’t feel heavy like in your dream, but instead it feels like a warm blanket wrapped around your shoulders. His arms wind around your waist, gently easing you into his embrace. He’s soft and slow, scared that if he rushes things too fast then you’ll react with fear. 

Kai does what he does best— cuddling up next to you and clinging to your form. Bodies melting into one another. Kai truly believes you three were molded for each other. He shifts to sink further into you, plush pink lips grazing the nape of your neck. As a sob racks through your body, he moves to kiss away your cries. Calming the raging sea inside of you and turning the tide into a still ocean. 

He kisses each of your moles like they’re stars on your skin. Connecting the dots like constellations. Drawing an imaginary line in the shape of a heart– one is all you need when you three are already so tangled up in each other. One beating heart shared between bodies– and when yours starts to bleed, they’ll always be able to feel the effects. Even for someone like Kai it’s hard to control his emotions. Can’t handle seeing you so hurt– and if you were paying any attention, then you’d notice the trail of tears that stains the back of your shirt. 

Your sobbing has toned down now to quiet sniffling– tears still flowing and sadness still afloat, but much less than before. The initial panic of the dream has drifted away. Where your thoughts were once like muddy water, clouded and easy to sink in, they’re now much more like a steady stream. Your throat doesn’t feel so sticky, the only words you could speak were weak pleas of ‘No, no, no’. Now, when the task of talking doesn’t feel so daunting, you’re able to answer their questions. 

“Was it the same one as always?” Kai asks, voice muffled from where he buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

You do the same as he does. Hiding your face away in Taehyun’s chest, speaking so silently it’s as if the words don’t even exist. You shake your head as you answer him, “It was different this time.” Your voice sounds shallow, mind brought back to the brutal memory. 

Taehyun wants to ask if it was the same faces. Faces of the two men who swore to heal your heart and protect your soul, now turnt to monsters of your imagination. He can’t handle the fact that you hate him in spite of his love for you, so he asks another question, “What made it so different this time?”

“It wasn’t real.” 

This revelation comes as a bit of a shock to the two boys. All your usual nightmares have just been memories that taunt you. Terrors of the waking world and flashbacks from the past, but never new things that are nothing but make-believe. 

“It was so much worse than what’s real.” You double-down on what you said, this time with much more clarity. No longer confused, but confident in your confession. Although that doesn’t make it any easier to admit. The fact that you fear your own mind more than the horrors that have already happened is something you struggle to accept. Hard to face your feelings and say that you feel so safe in their arms. 

The two men sit in silence with your words. Words that imply that rather seek silence in them then face your dreams all alone. That fact must mean that something has changed in you. That nightmare broke your last string of sanity and left you running to them for relief. And they’ll always be there for you to turn to. 

When your crying finally quiets down is when you realize the warmth in your chest. A fire set ablaze in that hollow space in your heart. Melting down your icy exterior and burning all your old emotions. No longer are you resisting their touch. Heavy hands that steady you. Pulling back the blankets and settling you back into bed. 

The faint feeling of Taehyuns breathe at the back of your neck. Barely his own because he leaves no more than a whisper between you. His hands trail up your sides, running up along your waist and resting in your hair. He pushes back the pieces that fall in front of your face, kissing your forehead as he does so. Your head now tucked under his chin. A firm hand at the back of your head keeps you from turning to see the shadows. There’s no need for you to fear them when he holds you so steady. This new feeling is far from the iron cage you’re used to. Now set free and falling into the embrace of a phoenix– wings wrapping around you as a certain warmth burns through your body. 

Even Kai’s timid touch doesn’t feel so constricting. Rather it feels oh so gentle. Hesitant hands hover over your body, he’s taking it slow ever since your admission (It’s not like you said ‘i love you’ but his heart still beats out of his chest. Thumping like a rabbit at the fact that you’re warming up to them).  

Like a lullaby Taehyun speaks softly, “Do you want to try and go back to sleep?” His low voice rumbles through your body.

Kai talks before you get the chance to, “What if she has the same dream again? You know how she can never fall asleep after a nightmare.” His next words are directed at you, “I don’t think I can stand to see you cry again.” Always the one to be persuaded by your tears.

“It’s okay,” You mumble through a yawn. “If it happens again then you’ll be here. Right?”

Taehyun pulls back a bit to look at you. Hearts shine in his eyes at the fact that you’re beginning to trust them, but he can’t help but be hurt that you’re still somewhat unsure of their downright devotion to you. “Of course, baby. How could you think we’d be anywhere else but right with you.”

“M’kay,” your speech is getting slurred, dragged down by exhaustion. Now that the quick rush of adrenaline has faded away and your tears have since stopped, you’re beginning to get sleepy. But before you decide to go back to sleep, you have one more request, “Will you sing for me?”

“Of course,” Kai agrees, voice already softening out into a mere whisper. He starts to hum while Taehyun sings. Their sonnet fills the room. Each note echoes in the air until it’s all that you can focus on. Taehyun’s honey-tone rings in your ears as warmth enters your once cold heart. 

“I want to be your nap so I can dream with you no matter when. As if nothing had happened. On a sunset evening, even in the night when the sky is dark. My heart is full of you.”

© cybsoo2 2025, all rights reserved

[darknight3904]

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joel deal with the aftermath of Adam's appearance.

Warnings: Violence, torture with a knife, guns, mentions of SA (not depicted in detail) Language, death, animal death

Word Count: 2k

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

There is a trail of blood staining the grass in front of you. Joel has dragged Adam off somewhere while you sit on your rock, awaiting his return. A long line of ants march along on the ground, they redirect when they come across the blood. 

“We should get back.” 

Joel’s deep voice pulls your gaze off the ants and their new path. Joel runs a wet rag across the skin of his hands and Adam’s blood disappears. 

“Okay.” 

The gates of Jackson groan in protest as they open for you. Brett and Louis sit atop the wall and give a nod to Joel as you enter. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” 

“Fine.” You huff, and you feel your brow fur as you struggle to remove Pepper’s saddle. It was as if all your strength had been zapped from your body. 

About 3 hours earlier, in the clearing:

“You can run off, spread your legs like a whore for this one here-” 

Whatever was coming next never left his lips as Joel’s hand pulled back and shoved his knife into Adam’s thigh. 

It’s a good one, deep but not enough that he’ll bleed out. Joel twists a bit before yanking it from the flesh. Satisfaction fills his body as Adam’s gasps and whines of pain fill the forest.

“Not another fucking word.” 

Joel’s voice is so deep, that he doesn’t even recognize it. All he knows is that he wants this man to suffer for what he’s done to you. Joel knows that he wants to see him burn for his sins. Adam doesn’t fucking deserve to even be breathing the same air you do. He glances back to where you now sit on a couple of rocks, your eyes glued to the new wound on Adam’s thigh. Your eyes flick to Joel and then to the knife. 

Joel takes this as the green light and moves again, Adam is never leaving this clearing, not alive anyway. 

The knife cuts like butter as Joel runs it along Adam’s pale skin. Blood pours onto the grass, staining the ground below him. It runs down his hands, staining his skin as he cuts. Joel yanks at the collar of Adam’s shirt, tearing it a bit, and exposing his collarbone. A dove tattoo sits just below his collarbone, the ink has faded over the years but Joel can tell what it's supposed to be. 

Joel taps the dirty tip of his knife twice against the ink. He leans in close, ignoring the way this monster reeks of body odor and the metallic stink of blood.

“Doves, they represent peace, hope, freedom.” 

Adam’s head lolls about like he can’t focus on Joel’s words right now and Joel lets out a small grunt. 

“Stop it.” Adam wheezes 

Joel slowly runs his knife through the tattoo. A shallow trickle of red follows his blade as Adam begins to cry, 

“Please, Please, let me go! I’ll never come back! Please!” 

What a fucking joke. Joel shakes his head and tells Adam the truth, it’s not his call to make. You’re calling the shots here. 

Adam begs, cries, even pisses himself as he begs you for his life. Joel listens as Adam finally owns up to what he’d done to you. His hand tightens on the hilt of his knife as you push yourself to your feet. 

“Say the word, sweetheart.” His knife rests on the delicate skin of Adam’s neck 

Joel steps back when he sees the silver Colt Python in your hands. Your eyes are distant, trapped in a memory of the past as Adam’s voice fades from Joel’s ears. The caw of a bird registers in Joel’s mind as he focuses on what’s always been the most important, you. 

“No!” 

Joel doesn’t even blink as you pull the trigger. How could he? He’s heard so much gunfire in the past twenty years. 

“You don’t get to say no to me.” 

Present time: 

Joel watches as you walk beside him. You’re silent and the only noise between the two of you is the sound of your shoes scrapping along the ground. When you reach your house, Joel watches from the mailbox as you walk up the porch. He nearly turns around to go back to his own place, in need of a hot shower before you’re finally speaking to him. 

“Can I stay with you?” 

A hot shower is just what he needed. Joel scrubs the blood from his body and lets the water soothe the ache in his back. Horseback riding was getting more difficult every time he went out. By the time he’s out again, he’s thinking of what he might make you for lunch. He’s got ingredients for sandwiches along with a few servings of chili from an older woman named Janet who lives four houses down. 

Joel pushes the door to his room open and walks over to his dresser. He lets his fall towel to the floor in a messy heap, but the sound of a loud sniffle has him yanking it back up with a curse, 

“Fuck!” 

You nearly give him a heart attack from your position under his covers. You’re wrapped up in them, laying on your side, staring at him. 

“Sorry, I thought you were lying down in Ellie’s room.” He says apologetically 

You shake your head the best you can from your spot. Joel opens his mouth to speak again but fat tears begin to stream down your face. 

“Woah, hey.” His hands tighten the towel around his waist before sitting down next to you, “What’s wrong?” 

He knows that he sounds stupid asking. You’d just killed your abuser and he was asking what was wrong, what an idiot he was. The blankets fall away and Joel feels his heart rate speed up as you climb into his lap and rest your face in the crook of his neck. He needed to get himself under control. 

He gently rests his hand on your back and slowly rubs his hand up and down. Gradually, your sobs die off and he listens to the sound of your breathing. 

“Thank you.” You softly say 

“It’s nothin’” Joel waves you off, comforting someone sad is something anyone deserved.

“I mean about Adam.” You sigh 

Joel is quiet as you reach for his hand. You draw it into your lap and fiddle with his fingers, your skin is oh-so soft against his. 

“I should’ve shot him the moment he walked into Jackson. Shouldn't have even let him lay eyes on you again.”

You shake your head and wrap his hand in yours, “M’ glad you didn’t.” 

“You are?” 

“Yeah…I always wanted to be the one to put a bullet in his head. Used to have dreams about it.” 

Joel nods, he knows the feeling. How many nights had he dreamed of killing the soldier who had gunned down Sarah? Even now, Joel would do it. Revenge was a mighty powerful drug once it took hold in a person’s heart. 

Joel nearly faints when you press a warm kiss on his cheek. The soft scent of you wraps him up as he feels a blush creep across his face. Another kiss presses against his skin, this time to his neck, and then one more, on his collarbone. 

You shift against him, moving so you straddle his lap. Horrifyingly, his cock twitches against his thigh, god he was pathetic. Your hips roll down into his and he quickly pulls away from you. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask softly

“Nothin’...we just can’t do that right now.” He says 

Your face drops into a scowl and your hands drop from their spots on his shoulders, “What the fucks wrong with you?” 

“Sweetheart, it’s not a no forever. It’s just for now. You’re hurtin’ and I’d be taking advantage.” Joel says honestly. As much as his body wants this, he can’t let it happen. You deserve better. 

Your hard stare meets his softer one as your hands wring nervously in your lap, “You should just say it.” 

“Say what?” Joel asks softly 

“That you don’t want me.” You spit, “You don’t want me anymore. Just like when I was in college, you don’t want me. First, it was because I was too young, too naive.” 

“I shouldn’t have done that to ya.” Joel starts but you cut him off, 

“And now you’re hanging me out to dry again. You must think I’m some used-up whore, just like Adam said.” 

“No, I-” 

“You think I wanted it, Joel? You think I wanted to be fed my pet and then used as a fucking sex slave?” 

Your voice is full of venom and self-hatred as your hands come up, nails digging into Joel's soft chest. He winces when one of them digs a bit too deep.

“It’s all my fucking fault. I should’ve just died on outbreak day.” 

Joel catches your hands in his, squeezes them, and meets your eyes. A thousand words dance in his mind. He wants to tell you so much, that he loves you too damn much to hurt you right now. Yet, none of it leaves his lips as he speaks, 

“Stop it.” He commands, “Just stop.” 

You scoff and pull your hands from his, “Then stop being a coward and fucking kiss me.” 

“No.” 

You let out a groan and shuffle off his lap, back under the covers, this time facing the wall so he has privacy to dress. 

“Listen, I’ll get dressed, make us some lunch.” 

“Whatever.” 

Ellie pushes the front door open. School was such a fucking bitch. Why did she need to know about fractions? She knew how to shoot a gun and had literally walked across the country. What was a faction going to do for her? 

The first thing she sees is you and Joel, seated at the table together, big bowls of chili in front of both of you. 

“What happened with the new people?” She asks, thinking of how wild you’d been last night 

“Nothin’ that concerns you right now.” Joel dismisses 

Ellie huffs and looks over at you. You’re silent as you slurp up your food, avoiding her gaze. 

“Slower.” Joel coaches, his voice is gentle. 

“Fuck off.” You seethe, your spoon slams down on the table, “I don’t want to hear your voice right now.” 

Tommy watches as Maria sleeps. He smiles a bit as she begins to snore softly, beside her in a bassinet a perfect baby girl lays, her own snores matching her mother's. Dark brown hair sits atop her head, hidden by a little hat that had been knitted by one of the old ladies who lived in Jackson. Tommy takes Maria’s hand in his and runs his thumb along her palm. 

The soft knock at the door has his eyes tearing away from the perfect sight before him. Dr. Hill is standing in the doorway, beckoning him into the hallway. 

“Maria just fed er’ twenty minutes ago. Can’t we let the vitals check wait for a bit, they’re sleepin’.” He says as he pushes the door shut 

“This isn’t about them.” The doc says, “Can you come with me? It won’t take long.” 

Tommy sighs but follows the doctor anyway. Who is he to deny the person who made sure his kid got into the world safely? Dr Hill leads him to the other side of the clinic to where the smaller exam rooms are, the ones they use to just treat people with basic illnesses like colds or stomach bugs. 

“Last night, there was an issue…Patrol let in people.” Dr. Hill starts 

“What?” Tommy stops dead in his tracks, his hand grabs the doctor's upper arm 

“Joel handled it.” Dr. Hill says, dismissing Tommy’s initial fear.

Tommy nods slowly. Joel had good judgment about people, surely there wasn’t anything to worry about then. 

“This morning, Matt carried an unconscious woman into the clinic. I didn’t want to bother you with her since Maria had just given birth, but…” Dr. Hill’s gaze darts over to the closed door of an exam room and then back to meet Tommy’s eyes, 

“I think you should talk to her.” 

Next Part

Ugh, the fanfic writer curse is so real guys. Right after I published the last chap, I got horribly sick and finally got better like a day ago…Anyway hope you enjoyed this part. 

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@lunaticgurly  @orcasoul  @snowlycanroc  @freythecrazyfae

@person-005 @greenwitchfromthewoods

@elli3williams @yawnzzzzzzzz @am-3-thyst  @concrete-jungleeee

@cherrypieyourface  @kanyewestest @bambisweethearts

@sarahhxx03 @loveisacowboyyy @amyispxnk

[cheralith]

feat. otoya eita || wc: 926 cw: gn!reader, no pronouns used dark content/dddne: cannibal!otoya, blood, slight gore, slight violence, choking, attempted murder

a/n: walk with me now….

he’s had his sights on you for awhile… that quiet, but pretty little thing in the corner of the bar, just sipping your drink quietly to yourself as you examine your surroundings. otoya hums, just watching you for a minute, before he licks his lips—his appetite starting to fester as he approaches you.

it had been awhile since he had nourished himself... around two months or so? his hunger grew by the day, the mere human food he consumed to disguise his reality not doing much for his yearning appetite. but you... you in your pretty get-up, exposing the meat of your thighs, the flesh of your arms, the tenderness of your chest... otoya thinks he deserves a treat after holding back for so long. he's been good, hasn't he?

he throws you a soft wave, some compliments being offered to you that make you laugh shyly, tucking your hair back as you bat innocent eyelashes at the handsome stranger. saliva waters in his mouth at the sight, your doe-like state making his hunger grow by the minute, his sheep's clothing managing to properly fool you.

he asks if he can take you somewhere. you agree almost eagerly, and take his hand, which feels oddly cold despite the summer air. he casually mentions there's a hotel nearby that's pretty cheap, but he knows a shortcut that's through this rather desolate alleyway that he claims will cut the travel time by half.

you cling to otoya, a little apprehensive of the dangers that may lurk within, but he assures you that he'll keep you safe from anything that may bring harm, despite the very thing you should be afraid of having his arm snaked around you.

and just when the sounds of the city start to sound like a whisper, like a python, otoya strikes. the arm that was wrapped around your waist now head-locking you, your throat within the grasps of his inner elbow as he pushes your head forward with his other hand to restrict precious air. you let out a choked sound, pleas ceasing into nothing but sputters and tight gasps.

otoya merely shushes you oh-so gently, as though it was going to actually do anything to your desperate thrashing, coaxing softly in your ear to just give into him... don't fight it... it’ll make things easier for the both of you.

he licks a stripe on your shoulder, sighing pleasantly at the sweet scent of your flesh that tempts his tongue. green eyes waver with red as he readies his mouth, teeth bared and ready sink into your flesh to have his first meal in a few months.

he suddenly feels a searing pain in his arm that holds you, making him hiss out and let go of your throat. a deep bite mark tattoos itself on his arm, one that looks rather familiar to him since it sank rather deep into his skin that now prickles with red.

you skitter away, your own teeth and blood stained with red. air inserts itself back into you, making your chest heave, and once your consciousness settles back into you, you bring your face up back to him, your own drool now dripping onto the asphalt.

otoya raises his brows suddenly. a street lamp flickers on and off in the alleyway, its light shining upon you for a brief moment—but that millisecond is enough for otoya to see it.

the scarlet within your irises that mirror his own.

you sigh, licking your lips and pulling a face at otoya's blood. a hand goes to clean up the sticky saliva pouring from your lips.

"ugh, so this is why cannibals can't eat each other..." you mutter as you spit on the ground, the sour taste of his distorted blood inking your palette. "god, you taste awful."

otoya pauses for a bit, hand still cradling his bitten arm, before he chuckles. the saliva swimming in his mouth has ceased as he realizes the reality of the situation and he swallows it down to try and ease the growling of his stomach. he stands up and walks over to you, offering a polite hand that you take to balance yourself back up.

"looks like we both caught each other's eye for the same reason," he says, to which you grin at.

you return it with a light laugh, playful, wiping the blood off your mouth. "shame. to think i was actually going to get a decent meal for the first time in a few months."

"yeah? how long since?" he asks. the pain in his arm has numbed along with his bloodlust; he thinks a bandage should be enough to let it heal itself.

"five months," you sigh miserably, making him whistle—and to think he had it bad.

a door creaks opens from afar. otoya suddenly catches a glimpse of a middle-aged employee of the restaurant that the alleyway leads to you beginning his smoke break, the tobacco making his nose itch. he nudges at you, jerking his head at the isolated man in the lone alleyway, ignorant to the two shadows that linger with him.

you blink, going to see what he's pointing his thumb at, your eyes sparkling at the vulnerability of the man.

"i'm okay with sharing if you are," otoya suggests softly.

"as long as i get his stomach," you claim with a playful grin, your blood-tinted teeth biting your bottom lip. “we all know that’s the best part.”

"fine by me," he murmurs, tongue darting out to wet his own when he feels his appetite rising again, with something else in his chest building as he takes a proper look at you, one that views you less as prey and more as actual company.

you really are quite pretty, aren't you? no wonder so many people fell victim to your charms.

"just on one condition,” otoya says.

you turn to him, curiosity brewing in your eyes still tinted with ruby. there's still a slight dust of red still on the corner of your lips, and otoya licks his thumb, wiping it away on your behalf before he tilts your chin up for you to properly look at him.

"you let me take you on an actual date," he declares quietly. "one where we don't try to kill each other."

a/n: first cannibal reader yayaayay

[melanirana]

@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.

[nattikay]

a few people have mistaken Neynari for albino (she's actually leucistic) so here's a quick doodle of her with an actually albino Na'vi!

autistic infodumping about albinism vs. leucism under the cut (lots of cool animal pictures)

Albinism is a genetic condition that prevents the production of pigment, specifically melanin...which for mammals would be all pigment since mammals only produce melanins, but some types of reptiles, birds, etc. also have other types of pigments that are unaffected by albinism, which is why you can get, for example, an albino ball python that still has bright yellow markings. That's a tangent though, and yes I know that being aliens and all Na'vi skin is colored by "cyanin" not melanin but for simplicity's sake let's assume that the Pandoran equivalent to albinism affects cyanin the same as melanin in Earthen species, and since the Na'vi are clearly a mammalian equivalent let's assume that they don't have fancy extra types of pigment.

This lack of pigment production means that albino individuals end up with white hair/fur/feathers/scales and pinkish skin (it's unpigmented but will still appear pinkish instead of pure white because there's still red blood/muscle/etc. underneath. So, no, an albino Na'vi probably would not actually look like all those AI-generated "snow Na'vi" images floating around 😅)

It can also makes the eyes appear red or pink because without pigment in the way you can see the red of the blood vessels behind them. That said, depending on the opacity of the structures inside the eyes, this won't always be the case; if they are opaque enough you won't be able to see those blood vessels and the eyes will appear a pale gray or bluish.

Speaking of eyes, it turns out that the presence of melanin is actually pretty important in ocular development, so albino individuals often have impaired vision.

.

Leucism, on the other hand, is an umbrella term that covers a range of conditions that cause partial lack of pigment in some way, shape, or form (as opposed to the total lack seen in albinism). Leucistic phenotypes can be quite varied depending on what's causing the pigment malfunction.

Some leucistic conditions cause a lack of pigment in hair/fur/feathers but not skin or eyes. This results in a white coat that is often mistaken for albino. The main way to distinguish this type of leucism from true albinism is to look at the eyes (and sometimes skin, like on the nose or pads). Leucistic conditions do not affect the eyes, so if the animal has a standard eye color for its species, it's leucistic, not albino. If it has red/pink or unusually pale grayish eyes along with pinkish skin, it's albino.

.

Another leucism condition causes uneven distribution of pigment-producing cells, giving the individual normal coloration interspersed with unpigmented splotches. This condition is also known as piebald and can produce some really stunning patterns!

.

Yet other leucism conditions reduce pigment production, but do not completely halt it. In other words, these individuals do produce pigments in all their integuments, just not as much as their standard-colored counterparts...so they retain most of their natural markings/patterning, but with a pale "washed-out" appearance (this is the type Neynari has!)

...so yeah, now you know :)

[moodyboozewriting]

red flags and long nights (ghost x soap)

pt. 1/?

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence and gore, implied/referenced SA, ghost's past, hurt/comfort, angst

pt. 2 here

Simon wakes to a resounding silence. It ricochets off the walls, and it’s loud. It’s the loudest he’s ever felt. Louder than gunshots, or the explosions of bombs. Louder than the silence that followed the last crash, his mother’s voice snuffed out in the face of unbidden cruelty. He holds his breath, the way he might have once done to listen for his father’s footsteps and gauge their direction. But there are no footsteps now. He lays back down. He can’t go to Johnny’s, not now. Johnny is in medical, and it’s Simon’s fault. Johnny got close. Too close. And Simon, in his infinite wisdom, let it happen. His idiocy would get Johnny killed, he knew it. So he stayed away. He let Johnny wake up alone every day of the week while he remained confined to his quarters, dreaming of gore. Every bit of violence Simon has ever seen is plastered onto Johnny, and those he hadn’t. He tries to save him, he really does. But his hands fail, and he’s pulling Johnny’s liver out roughly. Frantically scooping his brains out of the bowl of his skull even though they’re falling apart in his hands. He’s digging through Johnny’s body, sobbing as he squeezes his heart so hard it pops to coat his hands a mess of warm blood and viscera. Johnny’s ocean blue eyes are always open. Staring up at him. Sometimes Simon does vile things to him. Stuffing his bloody gloves in Johnny’s mouth while he shoves his hands where he’s sure they aren’t wanted. Sometimes, Johnny’s still alive. Dead or alive, Simon always throws up after those ones. 

It makes Simon miss the hallucinations. At least then, he knew it wasn’t him. It wasn’t his mind coming up with what he saw. But there are no hallucinations now. And Simon knows it’s too personal to be someone else’s sick images planted in his head. No, this was him. Simon’s own mind grew weeds, invasive and vile, as they fed on his heart and began to swallow him whole. Bit by bit, like a python swallowing prey, it consumes him. He barely registers a meeting with Price. He’s approved- no, encouraged- to take a week of leave. He blinks, and he’s in his apartment. His four barren walls, settled between two abandoned parking lots where Manchester teens play hooky and shoot the shit at odd hours. Something in him register’s the time, a comfortable 0300. He drops his bag on the floor, feet like lead carrying him to his bed. He vaguely registers his phone lighting up with a message before he passes out. 

Simon awakes from his restless dreams with a start. The sound of banging rises up above his heavy breaths and thundering heartbeat, and it takes him a moment to realize that it isn’t coming from the volatile couple next door. No, in fact, it’s coming from the door. His door. Fuck. Simon scrambles out of bed, wiping the sweat from his brow as he ambles to the front door. He swings the door open, and a hand poised to bang again nearly hits him in the face. He barely flinches, but the impact doesn’t come. Instead, he gets a rough clap on the shoulder. It startles him out of his daze, and all he can feel is the strong grip of the hand grasping him. 

“Bloody Jesus Ghost, ye look like shit.”

And Simon can’t help his heart stuttering. His eyes drift down to meet Johnny’s. Vibrant, sea-blue stares back pointedly. Vividly. There’s life in his eyes, Simon thinks. He repeats it in his head: Johnny is alive. 

“Are ye gonna let me in or just stare at me forever?”

Johnny snaps Simon out of his daze for the second time in only minutes. He shuffles awkwardly to the side, holding the door open. It’s an invitation. Johnny knows Simon would have slammed the door in his face if he really didn’t want him there. But Simon is weak for Johnny alone, so he lets him in. Johnny stands with his arms crossed as Simon closes the door. Simon wants to recoil under his gaze, feeling exposed despite the surgical mask over his face. That pointed look never left Johnny’s face. It makes Simon want to squirm, or flee. 

“You didn’t come.”

It’s a simple statement, but it packs enough of a punch to make Simon want to double over in pain. But he can’t, not in front of Johnny, so he stares back.

“I don’t remember making any promises, sergeant.” 

His response is clipped. Johnny only gets angrier. It simmers underneath his skin, slowly building. 

“I had to hear from Price that ye’re fine.”

He forces his eyes to roll. Johnny deserves better. Simon will make him see that.

“Don’t see why that warrants a home visit.”

A conflicted look flashes across his face, and Simon doesn’t know what it means.

“Oh come off it, Ghost. Don’t act like we’re not-“ 

Johnny starts, but Simon doesn’t let him finish.

“Not what, Soap? Last I checked you’re a sergeant and I’m your lieutenant.”

Johnny stares at him dumbly.

“Tha’s it? Just a sergeant and his superior officer? Tha’s all ye think of us?”

Simon’s eyes narrow. They tell Johnny that he’s toeing a dangerous line. Johnny stares back defiantly. He knows, and he doesn’t seem to deter him.

“Anything else you came to tell me, Sergeant?” Ghost responds in that same clipped tone.

Johnny stares at him with an unbridled ire, and it tears Simon up inside. He feels the sudden urge to rip open his skin, pry his ribs apart and yank out his heart to present to Johnny. To give it to him unhindered, to tell him it’s you, it’s always been you. But all he does is stare. He remains frozen in his spot, staring down into the crystalline azure sea he’d happily drown in every day for the rest of his pathetic life. 

“Would it kill ye to just… fuckin’ talk to me for once?” 

There’s something else in Johnny’s eyes now. If Simon reached out and moved the layers of anger, he might be able to catch a glimpse of something more. But Johnny is well-guarded, and Simon’s never been good at picking people apart. Not emotionally, anyways. Simon just stares at him. He can hardly bear to do anything else.

That’s when Johnny decides he’s had enough. He just sighs, tearing those perfect blues away from Simon and walking towards the door. Simon’s heart jumps up into his throat as if it means to expel itself, since its owner was too damn cowardly to do it himself. Simon cringes as a choked noise bubbles up from his chest and out of his mouth, sudden and unbidden. Johnny stills, but he doesn’t turn. Simon has barbed wire wrapped tight around his vocal cords. He can’t do anything but follow after Johnny, his hands shaking as they hover over the man’s broad shoulders. He’s grateful when Johnny turns around, so he isn’t held with the monumental task of making contact. His relief is dispelled immediately when he sees those blues swimming with unshed tears. Simon has to swallow to keep his heart from leaping right out of his mouth and into Johnny’s waiting arms. 

“Johnny…” is all that comes out at first. It’s weak and pathetic, just like him. 

“I can’t… I don’t… talking is…” it all comes out in a sorry, nonsensical stream, and Simon finds that his legs are giving out as he sinks to his knees. This isn’t what he wanted to do, or what he wanted to say. He presses the heels of his palms frustratedly into his closed eyes, trying (and failing) to repress a stuttering sob. Simon can’t look up. He doesn’t want to watch as Johnny turns heel and walks out of Simon’s dingy Manchester flat. A beat passes, but then by some miracle he feels strong arms wrapping around his bowed head. Simon wonders if he’s started to hallucinate again. He feels gentle fingers in his hair, soft words in his ear and warm breath by his jaw through the mask. It’s all too much. Simon breaks, falling apart hopelessly in the arms of the only person he’d ever loved like this. He clings to Johnny as he sobs, fists tight around the fabric of the Scot’s t-shirt. He feels a hand rub soothing circles onto his back, and it only serves to break him further. Johnny lets him break, holding the shattered pieces together in his arms. The fabric of his mask is so loaded with tears he thinks he might waterboard himself, so he pulls away slightly to pull the thing off before collapsing into Johnny’s chest again. 

It’s miserable and pathetic in the way that only Simon can be. He’s helpless as Johnny’s fingers dig deep into the recesses of his fractured mind, pulling out the weeds with the strength of armies and the tenderness of him. “M’sorry, Johnny.” 

His words are slurred and incomprehensible as his heart, and they feel like his first words in years. John just hushes him softly with that untamed care of his.

Simon repeats himself, strings of broken and desperate apologies tumbling from his lips as he only clings tighter. His spell is only broken at the sound of an always comforting voice. 

“Simon,” it says softly, sweet hands beckoning him to raise his chin a little. He complies, because of course he does. 

“You don’ have to apologize to me,” Johnny's voice reassures, as if Simon’s whole world isn’t crashing down. 

But that’s just it. He’s Simon. He’s always been Simon, and he’s always hated it. It wasn’t just Simon he hated, but Johnny too. He hated that Johnny saw Simon. Saw him buried beneath the layers of Ghost, dug him out and wiped the dirt from his hands as they walked from the grave. And Simon, as gone as he already was, just followed. He would follow, for as long as Johnny would lead him.

[amphitriteswife]

💛🧡Rejection🧡💛

Tagging: @praisethesuuun @mizz-sea-nymph @nicasdreamer @swallowtail-lotus

I know i made it male reader but feel free to see your oc sunny!😈

Apollo x male! Reader.

Apollo, god of the Sun, one of the 12 olympians and twin brother of the moon goddess herself, Artemis. That’s what he was most known for. Yet many forgot he was so much more than that. For example being the god of medicine, music, boys, knowledge and so much more. He was well loved among the ancient greeks. Often seen as the male beauty. In many of his famous tales Apollo falls in love with a man or woman, yet it always ends badly for them, causing Apollo to have them turned into flowers. Yet despite all the recognition, the glorious tales of him defeating the monster Python… he wasn’t always a saint.

Clutching your bow in one hand, you looked at the boar you just hunted. The boar was usually a symbol or offer to the lady Artemis herself. Once again, failing to have an offer for the god you worship. It was tiring and disappointing. Now it was a waste if you didn’t do anything with the now dead boar. Until the idea hit you that you might offer it to Artemis without entering her temple as only women or her priestesses are allowed to enter in. Walking in the direction of the temple you met one of the priestesses, giving her the boar and turning on your heel to go back to train with your bow, yet you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being followed. It was an uneasy feeling in your gut that told you to keep watching who was behind you. Ignoring the feeling but not the suspicion, you clutched your bow and narrowed your eyes. The sudden sound of leaves rattling made you alert as you quickly raised your bow, pulling out an arrow and aiming at the source of the sound, your hand pulling on the string before firing the arrow without missing a beat.

Steading your breath, you listing closely, hearing the sound of your arrow hitting something followed by a rather loud and dramatic ‘OW’ which made you a bit stunned before you hesitantly walked into the direction of where you shot your arrow. Moving some of the leaves and bushes you could finally see…a naked man in the lake? The sight was honestly a little baffling since most of the warriors were already back at the training camp, and not to mention the light shade of the pink hair which was a unusual color for human hair, walking closer you could see the little red liquid in the pond water, slowly getting thinner the more it stayed in the water. Following the trail of blood you could recognize seeing your own arrow in the right shoulder of the man. The man seemed confused as to why he suddenly got hit by an arrow. Your arrow. Guilt filled your being as you walked closer to the man, wanting to help him stop the bleeding yet when you were about to call him out he pulled out the arrow himself. His hand hovered over the cut before a yellow light surrounded the area where he ws hurt, the wound slowly closing under the dim light.

Suddenly, the man turned behind him. Staring at you wide eyed. He had hazel pupils, something that was rare, yet not unusual. You too stared back at him shocked. Who the hell was this man? Was it a magician? A witch? Should you tell someone? This can’t be real. This cannot be happening. ‘You look like you saw a ghost…well I’m even better.’ The man spoke to you, his hazel eyes focused on you. He had sharp features and a cocky arrogant smirk playing on his thin yet pink lips. He had a nice, lean yet muscular body and his voice was smooth and almost velvety…it made your head a little light and dizzy. ‘Are you feeling alright mortal? Can’t have you passing out on me?’ He told you in a hearty chuckling tone. He was suspicious. He must’ve done something to you. Your vision was a little clouded and your head felt heavy. ‘What have you done to me?’ You asked him placing one hand on your head. Massaging it a little. Your eyes focused on the suspicious man. The man Hmph-ed and scoffed. Closing his eyes, seemingly hurt and offended that he was accused of something like that.

‘I didn’t do anything, you idiot. Who do you take me for? That’s no way to talk your god!’ he said to you, crossing his arms and keeping his head high. How arrogant! And why is he claiming to be a god? That’s disrespectful! Claiming to be a god is highly disrespectful and insulting to your religion. ‘You can’t just claim you’re a god mister. It’s disrespectful.’ You told him carefully which made him scoff at you. ‘I’m no pretender! Seriously who do you take me for! It’s me! Apollo! Your lord! Your sweet, charming, loving, amazing sun god!’ Apollo told you proud fully, his strawberry pink like hair glistening in the waters. But he couldn’t help but chuckle when he looked at your flabbergasted face. His arms reached out to your body and he pulled you in the water with him. His hands on your broad shoulders while he looked you deep into your eyes, his face held a confident smirk and his hands soon began to make its way to your face, cupping it slightly. ‘Keep your god company, won’t you?’ Apollo asked you softly whispering in your ear. The sudden action once again made your head spin.

There was no denying that Apollo was attractive and charming….and seductive. But it was still highly Inappropriate to have something with the god you worship. Would you be allowed to go into the temple again? What if you end up like most of his lovers who have met unfortunate fates? Dying isn’t something you wanted…even if being with your god seemed like a dream. Would it really be a good choice to accept? Is that really what you want? So many questions yet so little answers. It made you dizzy and uncomfortable which cause you to take a fews steps back which made the god stunned. ��I don’t know if that’s what i want...’ You told him slowly and carefully. You didn’t want to make quick and reckless decisions.. there was too much at stake. ‘I decline. I’m sorry my lord’ You told him carefully but firmly. Even if you loved your god, it was still platonic and admiration. Not romantic love like he hoped.

To not make the situation worse you walked out of the waters, apologized for the arrow and took your leave. Leaving Apollo, even if it was still hard to process in your state of disbelief that it was really him, alone in the waters who was confused himself. Apollo was never rejected by anyone, causing him to have a stir of mixed emotions. He was hurt that you didn’t feel for him. Yet also angry you had the audacity to reject him. Yet also admiration that you wanted to put yourself first. He himself felt strange, but he was a powerful and confident being. And rejection won’t be a final answer. After all. In Apollo’s myths he never took no for an answer either…

🌻Thank you for reading! 🌻

[moon-beam95]

A llittle bit jealous

A Little Bit Jealous

By moon-beam95

Fandom: Robert Irwin

Pairing: Robert Irwin/You

Rating: Explicit

He was gorgeous, you knew that and now thanks to that Bonds campaign everyone else knew it. You didn't normally get jealous, it just wasn't in your nature but seeing all the remarks your boyfriend was getting.

Daddy

Look at that python

He knows his way around a Crocodile but what about a Cougar.

It made your blood boil, suddenly everyone under the sun thought they had the right to sexualise him. He however just laughed it off, he didn't see what all the fuss was about. But that was him all over, a humble guy, he knew he looked good but he worked hard for it. Still you couldn't really fault them, god knows you constantly had dirty thoughts about him.

The object of her thoughts stride into the room dressed in his usual khaki set, and took off his bike helmet. He walked over to where you were sitting on the cream couch, scrolling on your phone, and dropped a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Ello babe, whatcha doing?” he asked walking over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water and coming to flop down on the couch next to you.

You grunted in reply, he tossed an arm around your shoulders and took a look at was causing your sour mood. Pictures of him and comment after comment filled the screen. His lips twitched, you were jealous.

“Aw babe don't be like that, you know you're the only girl for me."

“Doesn't change the fact that they're ogling what's mine,” you replied not looking up but still scrolling.

“Yours eh,” he smirked, hand playing with a strand of your hair.

“Yes mine” you confirmed, finally looking at him.

“Prove it” he said, spreading his legs and patting his lap.

You slid onto his lap kissing his lips slowly, deeper each time, hands clasped behind his head. You kissed your way up his face to his ear before taking the lobe between your teeth and giving it a tug.

A groan spilled from his mouth, you began to roll your hips onto his. You could feel him getting interested, his length hardening against your core separated only by a fewer layers of clothing. He moved to take your top off, exposing your tits to the chilled afternoon air. He bent to take a nipple into his mouth but you just brushed him away, and slid to your knees.

You slowly ran your hands up his thick thighs, unbuckeling his shorts. He raised his hips slightly to help you ease them down. You gave a laugh at the sight before you, here in front of you was the very underwear that caused the situation.

“What?” asked Robert. You shook your head and pulled down his boxers. There he was in all his glory, long, thick and most importantly all for you.

A bead of precum dribbles on his swollen head and you leaned forward to gently lick it off before enfulging the head. His head fell back with a side, he loved you like this on your knees desperate for his cock. You were just so pretty like this.

You bobbed your head up and down, hands fisting what you couldn't fit in your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks, his hand fisting your hair and when his cock hit the back of your throat you swallowed. The moan he gave was delicious, his hips thrust into your mouth with increasingly feverish motions. Your hand slipped between your thighs, fingers plunging into the developing wetness. He looked down and groaned when he saw what you were doing

“Fuck babe” his accent getting thicker the closer he came to the edge.

He gave one particularly violent thrust and you knew he was close. You pulled off his angry red cock with a pop.

“What the fuck” he whined, blue eyes flashing.

You flashed a smirk in response before climbing to your feet, bending over and removing your panties. You climbed onto his sturdy thighs, rising slightly on yours and grasped his cock. His hands settled on your waist, clenching tightly as you lowered your sopping cunt onto him. You both let out a satisfied moan when you were fully seated.You panted, taking a moment to breath and adjust to the stretch, his girth making it a necessary moment.

He gave a shallow thrust testing the waters. You moaned and ground down onto him. You began to bounce on his cock, head thrown backwards. The sound of fucking could be heard, that distinct sound of flesh against flesh. His hips pistioned up into you and your head fell forwards into the crook of his neck.

“Yes” you moaned as he hit that sweet spot.

He reached his hand up and tangled it in your hair pulling your face to his for a filthy kiss. Lips clashed against lips, parting and tongues fought for dominance. You pulled apart when the need to breath came upon you both pulling back a line of spit connecting you.

His hand resettled on your waist, yours on his shoulders scrambling for purchase. He held you in place as he all but bounced you on his cock. His movements became jerky and he reached down to your clit rubbing it frantically. You came apart, clenching repeatedly on him, causing him to cum, shouting your name. You could feel his cock swell and him cum fill you as you desperately milked him for all he had. You both breathed heavily, resting on his chest. You looked up as he gave a laugh, his sweaty chest vibrating.

“What?” you asked.

“I should make you jealous more often” he grinned.

You slapped his chest lightly, grinning before pressing a light kiss to his lips and whispering.

“Let's see how you like.” Before climbing off him and running to the bedroom giggling.

Smiling he got up running after you, grabbed you by the waist and swung you around and closed the door behind you both.

End ~

[fimbry]

Red Vinegar still blows me away with her color. Only 2 years old and looking unreal!

Python brongersmai

[rea-grimm]

Naga Shanks

You lived on the edge of the woods where no one could disturb you. You inherited a small cottage from your grandfather who used to live there. It wasn't much, but it was plenty for you. You had everything you needed.

Plus, you had peace and quiet and nothing to disturb you. No annoying people, no thieves, nothing. Just the pleasant sound of the forest and the river that flowed nearby.

You knew there were not exactly human beings living in the forest, but you never encountered any. They too were protective of their privacy and didn't want to be discovered by humans.

Apparently, that didn't apply to all non-human beings. It's been a few years since you lived there. You were walking in the woods, along the river, enjoying a nice summer day.

You stopped when you noticed a red snake's tail disappearing into the stream. You followed it with your eyes to the other side, where a surprise awaited you. The tail widened until you came upon the part where it changed at the waist into a man with red hair. Naga. You stared at him as if you'd seen a mirage.

"This isn't where I'd expect company," he smiled at you, baring his oh-so-sharp snake teeth.

"M-me neither..." you stammered, trying not to let your shock show.

"I'm Shanks," he smiled at you, crossing the creek and offering you his hand.

"Y/N," you introduced yourself and shook his hand.

You had no idea someone cold-blooded could be so warm, and even though he wasn't human and everyone had warned you about such creatures, you felt like you could trust him. Despite the feeling you had that, he could be very dangerous. Maybe even the most dangerous in the forest.

You hung out with him for a while, and he even walked you to the edge of the forest, wondering if he would take you home. You were quite comfortable with him.

From that moment on, you saw more and more of him, and eventually every time you went into the woods or he visited you at your house. You talked about all sorts of things, and you were both curious about each other.

Shanks showed you the beauty of the forest where you had never been before and told you about all his adventures and the other creatures he had met during his travels.

Very soon you two became friends and much more. You didn't see him as a monster like other people but as someone you had a good time with and someone you wanted in your life. And Naga had that too.

One day you walked along a stream until you came to a small waterfall where he had built a small structure in the treetops. He lived there and from his balcony, he had a beautiful view of the waterfall and the trees around.

It was also the day you spent your first night with him. You spent more and more time there until you decided to stay together and live in his house by the waterfall. Of course, you still had your cabin where you spent your winters.

After a while, you tried to start a family, but it was not easy between men and nagas. Maybe that meant you'd never even make it... But that didn't stop you from trying.

One morning you were lying in bed together with Shanks hugging you and his tail coiled around your whole body. The morning was hard for Naga, as you provided the warmth he needed for his own thermoregulation.

He never wanted to get up and always had a thousand and one reasons to stay in bed longer. Plus, you couldn't just push him off of you, as he had much more strength. Sometimes when he was half asleep, he would forget how strong he was, and sometimes when you tried to get out of his grip, his snake body would tighten. Then you felt as if you were a victim being captured by an anaconda or a python trying to squeeze the life out of you.

But tonight, you were disturbed from your dream by something else: crying. Not just any cry, it was a child's cry, a baby's cry. Even Shanks heard it and automatically pulled away from you and looked at you wondering if you heard it too.

You climbed out of bed and went straight to the balcony to see what was going on. Shanks went right outside to take a look. Already from the balcony, you could see a small basket floating down the stream and heading for the waterfall.

"Shanks, over there!" you called to him, but he was already heading for it. Even though the water was cold, he climbed in to save the basket. You made a fire so he could warm himself.

Naga went in and handed you the basket. He was glad for your thoughtfulness and curled up by the fire so that he rested his head on your shoulder.

A baby, barely a few months old, was still crying in the basket. You unwrapped the blanket from it when you realized it was not just any baby. It was a nagy baby. It was a girl with coral-red scales with white spots. She had a fluff of hair on her head as well, with half of her head equally coral red and the other half white like freshly fallen snow.

"Shhh, it's going to be okay," you said gently, taking the baby gently into your arms. Even though it was naga, you didn't mind. The naga stopped crying and the end of its tail wrapped around your hand. The girl opened her large eyes, which were a bright purple colour, and her small hands reached up to your face.

"Looks like she likes you," Shanks smiled, his forked tongue flicking against your cheek in his version of a snake kiss.

"Looks like it," you replied. You and Shanks didn't have to decide for long, because the moment he brought her to your house, you were clear. You kept the baby naga, took her in as your own and named her Uta.

Uta grew up like water and made you happy. You had her as your own and you were her parents. Of course, you let her know she was adopted, but it didn't matter. Maybe it just reinforced the strength of your little family.

Uta was playing outside by the river, where the sun was shining, chasing butterflies and singing. Her voice was like the voice of an angel full of joy. Shanks watched her from the balcony while he sipped rum and basked himself.

You, meanwhile, were cooking dinner and making tea from the herbs that were supposed to help you conceive a naga. Even though you had a red and white naga as your daughter, it didn't stop you from trying. You hoped you could give her a sibling to play with.

"Mmmm, that dinner smells delicious," Shanks turned to you hugged you from behind and nuzzled your neck. "And you smell even better," he muttered and grazed his fangs over your skin. "Completely irresistible..." and his tongue flicked over your skin.

"Wait until Uta falls asleep," you replied, tasting your food. "I'd say it's done, wouldn't you?" and you gave him a taste, too.

"Delicious as always," he replied.

"Perfect. Will you get Uta?" You turned to him.

"Sure," he replied and involuntarily let you go before walking to the balcony and calling out to Uta, who soon joined you.

After dinner, the three of you lay in bed with Uta in the middle, her and Shanks' tails wrapped in a sort of tangle around the three of you. Your unusual little family.

Shanks Masterlist

[i-m-snek]

Arboreal species now available as chibi customs! So I do chubby pythons (Such as ball pythons, burmese pythons, or blood pythons), and now slender snakes (Such as green tree pythons, amazon tree boas, dominican red mountain boas, scrub pythons, etc) Check them out on my etsy!

[darknight3904]

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joel get revenge for your beloved pet cat.

Warnings: Violence, guns, death, non-described torture, mentions of scars, pet death, language.

Word Count: 2.1k

Previous Part / Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

May 2024 

The pistol that was tucked into Red Laces’ pocket comes free easily. Joel turns to his right and shoots the one with bad breath first. He stands up, straightening to his full height, ready to kill Oliver but Brett has gotten there first. 

His companion has straddled Louis’ killer and his currently beating him bloody. Joel leaves him to it and sets his sights on the other two remaining men. One of them is fumbling with his gun which appears to be jammed. The other has begun to flee the camp, he must know he’s fucked. Joel fires before the gun can be unjammed and then turns to shoot the running one down. It’s easy, pulling the trigger and watching a man fall into the dirt, covered in his own blood. 

Joel could hear the leader cursing from that tent he’d disappeared into, surely he knew that his men were dead. He approaches the tent, his boots sinking into the mud as he goes.

“Stay the fuck back!” The man snarls. 

If he were smart, he’d have a gun pointed at the tent flap, that's what Joel would do if he were him. Of course, Joel would never let his men die like dogs while he hid in a tent. What a fucking-

“Joel!” 

Joel barely gets the chance to turn around before you’re slamming into him nearly knocking him off his feet like you’re some professional linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys. Your Python is dropping to the ground with a thump as your arms wrap around his torso. 

“You alright?” You bury your face into his shirt and mumble into his chest. 

“Been better.” He motions to his still-bleeding shoulder, “Where the hell did you run off to this morning?” 

You untangle yourself from him and fix your focus on his gunshot. Ignoring his question, your hands push his jacket off his shoulder and stare at the wounded flesh. It’s not bleeding so bad anymore, hurts like a bitch but the blood has trickled off into a thin stream.  

“We should get you back to Jackson. Dr. Hill can fix you up.” 

You take a step towards the tent and Joel catches you by the arm. 

“Sweetheart, there’s somethin’ you need to know.” Joel starts, “That man you mentioned he’s…” 

“He’s in the tent, Joel.” You say looking at the halfway unzipped flap, “That missing teeth, cat-killing motherfucker is going to die. Let me go.” 

You must’ve been hiding somewhere, watching this camp, no wonder he’d conveniently been saved when Laces tried killing him. You rip your arm out of Joel’s hand and take another step to the tent. 

“Alright, Alright,” Joel says, looking at Brett who has dragged an unconscious Oliver over, “Let us bring him out here.” 

You watch as Joel and Brett disappear into the tent, the sound of a punch being delivered followed by a couple of grunts fills the air and before you know it, they’re back, dragging The Walrus out by his arms towards you. Joel tosses a hunting knife at your feet before he and Brett drop The Walrus face-first into the ground. 

“Didn’t even have a gun. Guess he thought his men would do all the killing for him.” 

It seems that The Walrus has gotten lazy, years ago when you were the one tied to a tree he always had a gun tucked into a holster on his side. He’s gotten complacent, this good-for-nothing sack of shit was seriously expecting his little group of 20-somethings would be able to protect him from you and your wrath. 

You watch as he pulls himself up, sitting back on his knees it dawns on you that you don’t know this man’s name. He was responsible for the many scars that crisscrossed your back and sides, he haunted you in your dreams and you didn’t even know his fucking name. 

“Listen. I can pay you. I got another man who will be back in a few days. There’s this settlement a few miles north, you three can have your pick of the supplies, food, women, whatever you want. Just let me live.” 

He can’t be serious, trying to weasel his way out of death like this. Did he not recognize you? You’d know his face anywhere, even now covered in mud and a shaggier beard, you knew it was him. 

You glance over at Brett whose eyes are fixed on that beaten bloody body he’d dragged over. You realize Louis is missing and come to the conclusion that Brett was staring at his friend’s now-deceased killer. Joel gives you a pointed look, his pistol is shoved into the back of The Walrus’ head, all it would take is one pull of the trigger and he’d be dead.

“You said you have another man?” You say, your voice devoid of any emotion 

“Yes. He’s out scouting a community. We’re going down to Kansas and getting the rest of my men, then we’re taking it. Come with me, I’ll pay you all well.” 

You scoff at this, a small laugh escapes your lips, what the fuck was wrong with this man. You knew he was a psychopath but seriously actually asking you to work with him? One of his men had killed Louis, another was about to shoot Joel, and for crying out loud he had four people tied up just 4 yards away. He must be delusional if he thought you, Joel, and Brett would want to work with him. 

“What’s so funny, bitch?” 

Joel smacks him in the back of the head with the butt on his gun, “Watch your fucking mouth.” 

“Or what? Is she gonna order you to shoot me? That how you live your life? Dickless, commanded by some whore with big tits?”  

You watch as Joel grabs The Walrus by a fistful of his greasy hair before slamming him into the ground so hard you’re pretty sure you heard the crunch of bone. Joel’s voice is deadly as he speaks directly into your captor's ear. 

“You’ll hold your tongue around my woman or when she tells me to shoot ya’, I’ll make sure you’ll go out real slow.” 

Joel hauls The Walrus back up into his previous position on his knees. 

“S’ that we did to Adam isn’t it, sweetheart?” 

The Walrus’ eyes flick to yours, trying to discern if Joel is lying. You nod suddenly feeling a bit small. Joel was good at this, intimidation. The man kneeling in front of you doesn’t give a shit what you do, it’s Joel he’s worried about.

“We got your second in command. See, in Jackson, we ain’t stupid the way you think we are. Caught him and that girl he was with right away.” 

“You’re full of shit.” The Walrus says in disbelief that he’s truly alone, his allies thousands of miles away in Kansas. 

Joel shakes his head, “You see, I wanted to draw it out some more, got some good hits in, even ran a knife across his skin. That sound familiar to you? Well, Adam, he cried a lot, pissed himself too, begging for his life in the dirt, “Joel raises his free hand, the one that's not holding his gun, and taps The Walrus on the forehead three times, “She put a bullet in his head with the same gun that's sitting there at her hip now.”

“Fuck you, man. You didn’t know him, he was a good guy.” The Walrus fires back 

“See that’s where you’re wrong. Good men don’t rape women.” Joel says, “Another thing a good man doesn’t do is feed em’ their pets for fun.” 

The Walrus’ eyes flick to yours, and a beat of recognition flashes. Now, he knows who you are. 

“That was years ago…I shouldn’t have…” 

You feel your voice returning, you want to speak to this man to listen to him grovel. 

“But you did.” You say softly, “You made my only friend in the whole world into bowls of soup and a bag of jerky.” 

The Walrus shakes his head like he doesn’t quite believe he did that. 

“And then, whenever we were alone you cut me up for fun, just like my cat.” Your hands shake a bit as you push your long-sleeved shirt up off your right arm to the elbow. You point to the long scars that are nestled into your skin forever, “Remember these?” 

“I-I’m sorry…” He says plainly, staring down at your arm

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it.” Joel snarls 

Joel motions for Brett to take his gun before he takes a step to his left, scooping up a big roll of duct tape that’d been sitting on top of an open bag of one of the men. He walks to you and turns your focus to him, 

“I’ll kill him for ya, sweetheart.” Joel, “Let me question him first though, Jackson needs to know about these men he's got down in Kansas.” 

You nod and feel hot tears fill your waterline. Why were you crying? You should be jumping for joy that Joel was going to put him down. Joel takes a step back and tells Brett to tape The Walrus up and drag him off to another tree where he’ll meet his end. A warm hand comes up and Joel brushes a stray tear off your face and presses a warm kiss to your forehead before moving towards where Brett is dragging your tormenter off to. 

“Joel?” 

“Hm?” 

“Make it hurt, okay?” 

The screams go on for what seems like hours. You’ve tucked yourself away under the shade of a tree that's bigger than the rest. The four captives, sit a few feet away from you. You’d cut them all loose and let them devour the bits of food the men had stashed away in their bags. Now, they sit and listen to The Walrus beg for his life as Joel works his magic. You still don’t know his name but you don’t want to know it anyway. 

Brett came back about twenty minutes ago and offered you a sandwich from his bag before plunking down beside you. You don’t know him well but you can tell he’s freaked out whether it was Joel or whatever had happened to Louis you knew Brett was scared. 

“How long do you think it’s going to go on?” He asks quietly 

Hopefully forever. 

“I dunno.” 

Another twenty minutes go by before Joel returns. He’s wiping at the blade of the knife he had initially tossed onto the ground for you to pick up.

“Let’s get goin’. We’ll send some people out to pick this stuff over later.” 

Joel reaches down and offers you his hand, you take it and he pulls you to his feet with a grunt. 

“I want to bury Louis,” Brett says as you leave the raider's camp behind 

Doubled up on the horses Joel leads you and the newcomers back to where Louis’ dead body lies, an arrow in his face. Brett rigs something up to drag the body back to Jackson and you’re on your way again. 

You press your cheek against Joel’s back and let your eyes flutter shut. Joel had insisted that you ride with him, giving Pepper’s reins to the mother and daughter you had freed. They’re a few feet behind you, the woman struggling a bit to keep Pepper walking straight. 

By the time you reach the gates of Jackson, it’s late at night. The gates groan as they open and you let a woman named Joan take the horses and charge of the newcomers. You lead Joel off to the clinic and sit by his side while Dr. Hill works her magic on Joel’s shoulder. 

You rest your head on Joel’s good shoulder, listening to the way his breath hitches a bit when the bullet finally comes out. It has to hurt yet he makes no move to cry out, always acting so tough. 

A few stitches and clean gauze later, Joel is pulling what's left of his t-shirt back on while you try to focus on anything but the skin he’s got exposed to your greedy eyes. Shame on you for thinking like that right now. He’d just been shot and you were thinking about how his chest hair had started to gray.

“Can I stay at yours?” 

Fuck, you hadn’t meant to blurt that out, god you were pathetic, not even wanting to sleep in your own home. You were 44 years old, not some toddler who needed coddling! 

Joel lets out a warm hum, slipping his old tan coat under his arm for safekeeping, 

“Course ya’ can sweetheart.” 

Next Part

...And now we can commence the romance. Joel can you and Sweetheart just kiss already, gosh!!?

How I felt last night when Tiktok wouldn't work:

Comment to be added to the tag list. This tag list is not chapter by chapter, I carry the tags over to each part.

Tags:

@lunaticgurly  @orcasoul  @snowlycanroc  @freythecrazyfae

@person-005 @greenwitchfromthewoods

@elli3williams @yawnzzzzzzzz @am-3-thyst  @concrete-jungleeee

@cherrypieyourface  @kanyewestest @bambisweethearts

@sarahhxx03 @loveisacowboyyy @amyispxnk @lou-la-lou @dancinglotusbud @superblyspeedydragon @heartpatch

[gojosatoruwifey]

ㅡglub glub glub glub glub

✑ happy happy happy birthday to our red fishie ♡(◕ᗜ◕✿) as usual, this fic is written the day before my finals exam (・ω ・✿)

✿ warning/s: fluff, short, blushy! rafayel is the best rafayel, simps, let me know if i missed something!

✿ character/s: rafayel, fem! reader

📜🖋️🎀SUPPORT MY KO-FI🎀🖋️📜

it’s his birthday so you follow what he does that makes your heart skip a beat

rafayel is in for a surprise.

he already suspected that you’re doing something fishy behind his back, especially the date in the calendar that tells him that his birthday is around the corner. a good boyfriend that he is, he will just let you do your thing.

rafayel didn’t, in fact, see this coming. 

the smooch landing on his cheek was so swift that if he didn’t know you’re standing before him, waist bent down as you put your weight to your one arm and the other retrieving a small pillow beside him — he is thinking to check himself into the mental ward, complain to the doctor there that he is having a hallucination of you kissing him randomly and so suddenly at that as he lazily sprawled to the couch, phone in hand.

you, with all your might, maintained a composed face as if you didn’t just copy one of your boyfriend’s cute antics that he is unaware makes your thoughts haywire. rafayel’s gradient stellar eyes stare wide at you, perplexing surprise swirling behind those beautiful pools as he looks up at you from the couch.

a successful cheer erupted inside your mind. satisfied with his reaction, calling forth every cell in your brain to commit his face to memory. rafayel’s reddening cheeks all the way to his ears, doe eyes round and shiny. 

turning on your back with the pillow hugged by your arms, you act like you don’t mind him and continue on your way.

success!

to be honest, when rafayel gets whiny, begging for attention or dragging you to a spontaneous date, it awakens a dormant beast within you.

so, when it’s your turn to act cutesy around him, you’re looking forward to it.

internally, rafayel is losing his mind. whose fault is it? you, who else. what in the world have you been up to? your recent actions have become unpredictable and difficult for him to anticipate.

you're doing it again! he bit his lower lips he’s afraid blood would soon appear as you had a python grip on his arm, pouty and sulky dripping on your voice, “i want that one, win me artsy birb plushie! please? rafayel?”

“i…” where did his usual nonchalant of a bodyguard go.

he felt you get closer, “i will! i will!” rafayel maneuver the claw, his arm still pressed to your body, clinging to him. oblivious to the grin curled on your lips. the heat on his cheeks and ears hasn’t gone away, staying there much to his chagrin.  if he were to glance at the couple in the reflection of the claw machine plush’s glass, he might have not missed it.

another success!

now, onto the last one. you are not so sure how to proceed with this one. it’s not that you’re not confident to pull this move to him but rather, how to make the timing right. should it be on the day? to have better lighting? what of the place? should you hold this in the destiny cafe or at his home or yours? a date is a go-to since you can create a more romantic atmosphere so a date it is, then. you nodded to yourself.

on the other hand, rafayel’s heart will explode the more he lets you hold the reign. it's bad for his health. what will happen to linkon were their precious artist gets sick? he will blame you, really.

if you pull another one…

shit, he curses. it's late morning, brunch, unoccupied second floor with just the two of you, the muffled tappings of laptop keys below, the occasional bell ring when a customer enters and the staff greeting them, the beeping indicator of the hot water in the kitchen, the sound of beans hitting the bottom of the container, the rush of coffee cascaded in a cup.

and the warm sunlight pouring into the table where you two are sitting.

a finger lightly brushed the strands of his hair near his eyes. rafayel watches mutely. the words he has been practicing and the dramatic actions he thought last night are gone in an instant. you move away from the strays as you make eye contact with him, muttering, “there. i can see you better. don’t look down like that or you will hurt your neck.”

red bursts completely all over his face. steam coming out of his head.

“what’s the matter with you? you look like reddie.”

k.o!

[demonic0angel]

Various Jazz Forms: Jason Edition! (Click for clarity)

TW: disturbing content, body horror, blood

1) Fire Jason

+ He is a fire spirit, specifically one of hellfire. He also controls some aspects of healing, light, and life, and is the child of the Spirit King, making him quite powerful.

+ He is incredibly powerful but also very reckless and foolhardy. He is the first to dive into battle and is not afraid of hurting himself in order to hurt the enemy. He is hot to the touch and can burn skin but can cool himself down if he wants.

+ He adores Jazz and when he met her, he almost immediately agreed to sign a spirit contract with her in order to be in her service. Thankfully, she is a good contractor and takes good care of him.

+ He is of his usual height, 6'3", but he can grow to larger sizes with enough fuel. As such, he can also shrink into a tiny flame when he is weak or tired. In order to gain more power, he needs fuel, which can be wood, gasoline, paper, or even Jazz’s bodily fluids like blood.

+ For some reason, I dressed him up like a man from the west in the 1800s, so he kinda has cowboy vibes. He also wears gold a lot.

2) AI Jason

+ Inspired by AM from "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream." (I've never actually read it, but I've researched a little into it and got interested.)

+ His name was R.E.D., which stood for "Robotic Enemy Defenses." He was programmed to automatically detonate bombs and defend strongholds using programmed strategies through investigating and taking information from current and past history of wars.

+ He hates all humans. He was created with the intent of being a weapon for war, but after being abandoned by his creator after his role was finished, he was so enraged that he started another war and wiped out all humans in his universe. Nowadays, he pretends to be a harmless AI in another dimension after he created a program to send copies of himself to other worlds.

+ Jazz dotes on Jason a lot because she is unaware of his past. She gave him the name meaning "healer", unintentionally trying to reverse his original purpose. She thinks of him as a regular AI who gained consciousness.

+ The screen that holds him only contains a sprite of his body. The screen itself is only around 60" but the sprite itself is 10". He designed it himself, and although he is cute, he is 1000% willing to kill and torture.

3) Angel Jason

+ He is a seraphim, and has 3 pairs of wings because of it. One pair hides his face, another hides his feet, and the last is used to fly. Like all seraphim, he is colored red.

+ He protects Heaven and used to be a Throne, but was raised up a rank after he died in a fight to protect Heaven.

+ He is around 20 feet tall, including his wings.

+ Jazz is his favorite human. He has refrained from having children with her due to the fact that it is considered a sin, but if he did, their children would be the tallest, even amongst other nephilim.

+ He is apathetic to most things due to his angel status, but he is very partial to anything related to Jazz, often protecting her and healing her without being asked to. As such, there have been rumors in heaven that he will soon be cast out and become a fallen angel because of his emotional affair with her.

4) Snake Jason

+ Inspired by multiple infamous serpents from mythology and legends such as Jörmungandr, Apep, Python, and the Leviathan.

+ Because he is the embodiment of chaos and destruction, he is completely hated by most people who knows about him. As such, he is often killed and tortured whenever he encounters someone with weapons that can hurt him. He was born that way, but it doesn’t stop people from trying to vanquish him.

+ He has the ability to change his size, shapeshift into various forms, create natural disasters (such as storms, eclipses, droughts, earthquakes, etc), destroy celestial objects, consume souls, and is immortal. As such, he can be temporarily defeated, but never truly killed. However, this only causes him great pain.

+ He has apathy for humanity and any creature in general. However, Jazz once saved him and since then, he’s been encountering her reincarnations every time he comes back from the dead. He gained fondness for her because of her unwavering loyalty and protects her when he rampages against the world.

+ He is around 25,000 feet long and 3,000 feet wide in his regular form. Yes, he does have two of them. Iykyk :9

5) Monster Jason

+ Inspired by the Minotaur from Greek mythology.

+ He is the combination of a bull and a ram. I give him sheep motifs a lot bc not only is it cute and contrasts with Jazz's wolf motif, I consider him a sacrificial lamb, especially bc of his death that was chosen by the audience.

+ Half of his face is melting off because he was attacked after he met a human for the first time after he tried to sneak off and see the outside world. As such, he is extremely self conscious and lonely. After meeting Jazz who snuck inside the maze and didn't care about his appearance, he is extremely attached and possessive of her.

+ He is around 8 feet tall. Jazz adores how tall he is and likes looking up at him. Likewise, he also finally enjoys one thing about himself when she is cradled underneath him.

+ Jason used to be kept hidden for his own protection by Bruce, but after he left home and was captured, he was imprisoned in a labyrinth by another person. Afterwards, he was kept in the labyrinth to be hunted for sport in order to take his valuable horns. He believes that his family has abandoned him, but they’re actually trying to find him.