#true red tail boa

[crispysnakes]

Spicy Suri girl I'm keeping back, that I haven't named yet.

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

Snake Myths: Venomous Snake Identification Myths

For this series on snake myths, I'll be going through the results of this poll in order (and please feel free to suggest other topics!).

The myth: there are a lot of various myths around the world about how to tell venomous and non-venomous snakes apart. One of the most common ones I hear is that slit pupils mean a snake is venomous, and round pupils mean they're non-venomous. You'll also hear about triangle-shaped heads meaning a snake is venomous, and tail length, simple color pattern rhymes, and even tongue color are used as methods to "identify" venomous snakes!

The origins: these myths get started because they are true...for very localized snake populations. In some areas, it is true that all snakes with slit pupils will be venomous! The problem with these myths is twofold.

Problem one: they're not universal. Every single myth about how to identify venomous snakes has many, many exceptions.

Problem two: they can lead to people incorrectly assuming a snake is venomous when it's not and hurting the animal, or assuming a snake is non-venomous when it's not and getting bitten.

The reality: there is no easy, foolproof way to identify venomous snakes 100% of the time.

It's true that some venomous snakes have slit pupils...

But so do harmless pythons and boas.

And elapids like cobras have round pupils!

Simple rhymes like "red on yellow, kill a fellow" are only true in a very local capacity - that one only works for two coral snake species in the US...

And doesn't even flag the Arizona coral snake, the US' third coral snake species!

Even trying to identify a snake based on head shape can easily go awry if that's the only method you're using, because while it's true venomous vipers have triangle-shaped heads...

Harmless watersnakes will flatten their heads out when they feel scared...

And venomous elapids have short, round-shaped heads!

My advice is to always be skeptical of any catch-all advice for identifying venomous snakes. The best thing you can do is learn how to identify the snakes local to your area, then you'll actually be able to know for sure which ones are venomous and which ones aren't!

And remember to never pick up or bother a wild snake, especially if you can't 100% identify it as non-venomous.

[royalreef]

@skytired​ inquired: [ TOUCH ]  for sender to trace one of receiver’s scars [ from oz! ] Older meme I will not go find - Always Accepting

      From the very first touch to her gills, Miranda froze.

      It made the fine muscles flex, pulling off of the harder bone-and-cartilage covers beneath the skin, forming the flap over their openings, now pulling flush, down against her neck to close. Their soft innards, bright red with oxygenated blood and so frilly and soft and large that they seemed like a feather boa, hidden inside her throat and tentatively exploring the open air, were much too large to pull fully inside. They twitched, moved, tried to retract, but that option had vanished for them, and their tips poked outside of the exit, unable to hide from the touch.

      When Miranda breathed in again, hard and gasping, thinking too much of it, they flared open, three sets of oblong holes made into the shape of slits, set into the tender skin of her neck, right behind her jaw and the larger fins that sat like ears to frame her face.

      It would have been strange, for creatures without gills, to consider what they were. It was easy to forget they were extensions of her natural body, entrances and exits as simple as anyone else’s nose or mouth. With their soft inner structures, flush and bright as any of Miranda’s flesh that could have been flayed open, they seemed more wound-like than natural. As though someone had come through and cut those parallel lines into her throat, punctured through so deep that it was possible to see light coming in from the other side if someone were to look within, and the edges had merely healed over with new skin.

       Miranda flushed, ruddy scales burning darker, the color of fired brick, the thin skin warming as more blood rose up and against Oz’s fingertips. Somewhere beneath his gaze, her hips shifted against her seat, her arms pulling in close to her body. It was too clear, too obvious. For someone who was used to all eyes being on her, for someone who was so familiar with her appearance being picked over down to every last detail — Miranda didn’t like Oz scrutinizing her like this. It felt too open, too visible. It was too risky, too sudden, the question posed as to what might happen if he found something that he didn’t like, and Miranda did not want to answer.

             The truth was — there was nowhere over her plated scales that held scars.

       Not on her head. Not on her hands. Not even on her tail. She was immaculate, clean, so unmarred by the world that it had never seemed to touch her, as though the hardships of life rolled off of her like droplets of seawater. Her body was perfect, kept perfect. She was everything that the crown wanted, everything that they needed, a crown jewel of their own to keep on display and to walk out as a symbol of their power, their unthinkable control. She was a thing of desire, sculpted to awe-struck perfection down to every last detail, down to every last stretch of scales and every corner of skin, soft and polished and new. The crown protected her, polished her, kept her like any of its treasures. They left her upon a velvet display so that all could see her and all could want her and only they could have her, truly have her, and she would be theirs forever and ever, because that was the only thing that could be true for something so perfect.

      Her eyes flicked down. Staring away from Oz, at the ground, unwilling to move. Abruptly she didn’t want Oz so close to her, didn’t want him touching her, wanted to crawl out of her skin and into some new lack of sensation that would wash over her like relief. Her want appeared aching and painful, but so too did her ability to say anything vanish, to nudge away from Oz, to make some semblance of her intentions known. She just... couldn’t.

      Maybe that wasn’t fitting, for someone who was known for bossing others around, who made no qualms about reminding everyone else of their positions under her, but it wasn’t fitting for her to be so upset either, was it? And this was upset, wasn’t it? She was upset. She was upset and didn’t want them touching her and they had done nothing wrong, and she was someone designed to be touched. Why else would someone else polish her scales for her? Why else would she be so soft, so beautiful? Why else would they make sure that, no matter what happened to her, there would never be a scar upon her beautiful body, nothing on all ten feet of muscle and bone and scale and flesh that would ever indicate that she had been tarnished, that the world had ever rubbed a little of its filth on her, that she ever had a single rotten spot that needed to be scrubbed out?

      Her throat was burning. It was burning again, protesting, familiar pain stabbing down into the lining of her esophagus, and Miranda couldn’t do anything about it.

      It flared greater the more she breathed, the harder she flexed her gills, trying to think of something, trying to say something, trying to do something, and only breathing harder and harder and harder, her lungs not fully emptying before she was gasping more in, her nostrils flaring and shuttering and her chest heaving in and out as her heart fluttered in her chest, panicked, struck into motion, and she had known this hurt for so long, it had haunted her for so many years, it was her companion and her friend and it always came for her whenever she began to fear, whenever she started to breathe too hard and think too hard and someone was too close where they shouldn’t be, and it was hers and it would always be hers and it hurt, it hurt so much, and she didn’t know why her throat and her gills hurt so much but they did and they hurt when she tried to eat and when she tried to make herself eat because she started thinking about bodies and meat and how close they were and how they were inside herself and within herself and how she couldn’t get away, couldn’t get away, please, please, please please please please please please please please please—

       —And she still hadn’t said a single thing to Oz. She was frozen, sitting there, staring at the ground, unable to move her body. Unable to will herself to move. She didn’t want to. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. The fear and the pain and the terror flared up inside her and she stopped trying to do anything about it, because if she just let it happen, it would have to let her go. That was how things always went. If she didn’t do anything, if she looked and acted like the perfect little jewel polished behind glass, then they would get bored. They would leave, having gotten from her what they wanted, and she would be alone again.

      That was how the story always went, and it never got better. It certainly never got better if Miranda raised a fuss about it.

[sssillyserpent]

Got some pics of my fiancee's beautiful new baby, Iris (Guyana Boa constrictor constrictor). She sure is stunning! Hopefully when work slows back down I can get some nice pictures of MY new babies- two tiny juvenile coastal carpets ;)

[songofsaraneth]

took the King for a walk in the sunshine on Easter, and had an impromptu mini photoshoot with this beautiful flowering tree

[bunny-rambles]

may i request for 19, kaeya, fluff from ur 200+ celebration event?? congrats on 200 followers btw<33

19- “I’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

characters; Kaeya, Klee, gn reader

cw/tw; Kaeya is called a princess, but it’s all fluffy fluff

word count; 700+

notes; hello !! ah thank you so much, and thank you for requesting. this is very very fluffy so I hope you enjoy it hehe,,,

event; 200 milestone

please reblog this if you liked it !!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When you were faced with a panting, exhausted knight telling you that the Cavalry Captain needed your urgent assistance, you really weren’t expecting what you had stumbled upon in the Favonious Headquarters.

Well, Kaeya definitely needed urgent assistance, that was for sure. But not for the reason you’d expect. And thankfully so, if you were being honest with yourself.

Within the chambers of The Spark Knight’s self confinement room sat a navy haired princess, adorned in the finest of silks, waiting for her one true love to come and set her free. Or well, that’s how you supposed Klee saw the situation. Kaeya sat on top of a rather high cabinet with a tiara on his head, the fluff of his cape wrapped around his neck to create a lovely boa, his body draped in a table cloth. His head perked up from his palm when he heard the door squeak open, his bored frown perking up into a small smirk.

“Hello, darling.”

You sent a confused, little wave to him before diverting your attention to the giggling blonde tugging at your shirt. She was wearing a matching set of black horns, a handmade dragon tail and tiny red claw gloves that fit snugly around her small hands.

“Y/N, Y/N!!” She chanted as she shoved a cardboard sword in your hand, bouncing up and down excitedly. “You gotta save your princess!! Dragon Klee is keeping her captive!” The pieces of the puzzle were starting to match up. Kaeya sent a wink in your direction, his way of saying ‘play along’.

“The princess is in danger? Guarded by a ferocious dragon?” You started, before raising your sword. “This is no match for my mighty sword! I, single-handedly, will slay the dragon and have your hand in marriage, my love!”

Kaeya was slightly taken aback when you jumped right into character, raising an eyebrow at your theatrics before chuckling behind his hand. Before he could respond, the youngster jumped into action, hopping on a cardboard box. “Grr! Klee is a dragon, and this is Klee’s princess!” She raised her hands to form claws, her mouth twisted into a large cheshire grin. You gasped dramatically before putting your hands up to your face.

“Oh, no!! A dragon!” You squealed before turning tail and running when Klee leapt off her pedestal. And so the chase commenced. The princess watched in amusement, listening to the both of you laughing and squealing in delight. He was thankful you had come so quickly, Klee was definitely more entertained being chased than protecting him. When the young girl caught up to you, she grabbed your fake sword and plunged it under her arm. This shocked you, but you tried to remain in character. You just hoped she didn’t actually hurt herself when she did that. She fell to the floor with a groan, tongue rolling out of her mouth as she closed her eyes and gripped her chest where her heart was.

“Klee…?” You asked quietly, hovering over her. She peaked one eye open, scowling adorable at you.

“Get the princess!” She whispered loudly before closing her eyes and sticking her tongue out again. After a small sigh of relief, your gaze moved up to the cross legged beauty in front of you. You offered your hand towards him, and he gladly took it, stepping down from his tower gracefully.

“Now kiss!” You hear another hushed whisper, the blonde now sitting up and watching eagerly. The two of you shared a small laugh before looking back at each other. And then, you leaned in, true love’s kiss forming as the both of you locked lips. You only pulled away when you heard a loud cheer coming from The Spark Knight and the frantic clapping of her small hands.

“What a performance… Where did you learn that?” Kaeya chuckled, slipping his tiara off and placing it gently onto your own head.

“Babysitting and looking after my younger siblings. You tend to pick this stuff up.”

Once again, he chuckled. “I’ve never seen anyone look so cute and ridiculous at the same time.”

“Likewise.” You chimed back before pressing another gentle peck to his lips.

[omg-snakes]

I have finally accomplished a lifelong goal of mine. My parents have decided to let me get a red tail boa. Chances are she’ll get around 9-10 feet according to the breeder. Her mom is 10 feet her dad is 8.5. Is it normal for people to keep big snakes? Idk but if I take even my ball python to Petsmart I get weird looks. So ima bring my boa when she’s an adult

OMG, congratulations!

That's awesome. I'm very happy that your parents are being super supportive about you having a bigger snake. I hope that this includes enabling you to provide the best possible husbandry, including allowing space and funds for an appropriate enclosure size and being available to help with care when your snake reaches the two-handler safety threshold.

When I worked in the pet industry, it seemed like giant keepers were semi-common in my area. Now that I'm out of that industry, though, I don't see or hear about many folks who keep larger snakes. I'd say it's probably not super common, and I'm also fairly confident that the vast majority of the snakes I heard about while working in the pet industry were not receiving proper husbandry so those snakes may not even still be alive. The average lifespan of the Burmese pythons that I knew of was around 5-7 years, which is heartbreakingly short for a massive, gorgeous snake. I met someone who had over 20 adult and subadult red tail boas in drawers in their second bedroom. These are semi-arboreal snakes. The only chance they got to stretch all the way out was when they were brought out to show off. They had zero muscle tone and couldn't even get up on the furniture by themselves. It was a freaking bummer.

I'm sorry to say that I don't support keeping giants for most people, and I don't think they make good pets in general. These animals require specialized enclosures that are WAY bigger than the average pet home can provide, they are strong and powerful, they are intelligent and lack empathy, and keeping a snake over 8 feet will require that you have a second handler to spot you any time you have their enclosure open. This is for safety, because if that snakes grabs you in a feeding bite you may not be able to dislodge them yourself and it could result in severe injury for both of you, and of course it looks bad for the entire hobby and could result in a push for increased legislation. A lot of folks let their ego get the better of them and ignore this guideline... and it hurts all of us.

I also strongly advise against taking your snake out in public unless it's a strictly controlled situation. Doubly so if they're over 6 feet as you'll absolutely need to have a spotter with you. I ESPECIALLY think this is a terrible idea in a place with other animals, like Petsmart/Petco/etc. That's a super big no-no. All it takes is one split second of you not paying attention for your snake to decide that somebody else's sweet little yip-yap dog looks like a snack and you have an official tragedy on your hands. Similarly, if one of the snakes in the store has a transmittable disease, like IBD, and you bring your snake close enough to that sick snake to pick up air particles, your snake is now possibly infected. Dogs and cats can be vaccinated against common diseases, so accompanying their human to the store isn't a huge deal, but reptiles can't currently be vaccinated and preventable diseases have destroyed entire collections. That person with the drawers I mentioned? Yeah, all gone. IBD ripped through that room like a grease fire.

I'm sorry to be a wet blanket and I really am happy for you! It's great to be excited and to have a dream that comes true! I just want to make sure that you're being mindful of your obligations to the reptile hobby as a large species keeper. It's a huge commitment, quite literally, and you need to be hyper-vigilant that you're not letting your personal desires and ego create a risk to your pet, to your family, to the general public, and to the hobby as a whole.

With great snake comes great responsibility.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Ash.”

A couple people were showing some interest in other Alien characters aboard the ship, and I thought I would give you all some insight into that. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you all have a great day. 

“You have ruined this family.”

“What have you done!” 

“The war is the only thing left for you now, so make yourself useful and die.”

-

Etium slowly lifted his head from the computer where he sat staring blankly at the accounting spreadsheet on the screen. Beside him, the other two Tesraki’s chairs were empty. He sighed, and slowly turned back to the accounting. They had likely finished their half of the books hours ago, leaving him to sit in the darkness alone with his own strange thoughts. His four fingered hands clicked at the keys of the human made keyboard,

He was good at typing, pretty fast for someone who was missing two requisite fingers, but he was nothing in comparison to the others.

He was nothing in comparison to most Tesraki.

Etium was slow when it came to doing the books, repeatedly checking every line and ever string of numbers for any possible mistake that could have been made. The process took him hours longer than it should have, but finally he stood, pushing back his chair and hopping down to the floor. The human ship whirred softly in the distance. It was a comforting sound, but he had always found some measure of comfort in humanity.

Etium had been hit the hardest by the huminization phenomenon. It didn’t surprise him all that much. He had fought side by side with humans since the Drev war, and the changes in him had taken a long time to develop. They ran deep now through his body as sure as his blood. WIth skills honed in human war, and being one of few survivors, he was quick to react to sounds, followed movement more easily, and could read body language better than almost any other alien he knew.

Dr Krill wasn’t even as good as he considered himself.

That’s what war did to a person.

He reached up to his torn ear and shivered at the smell of smoke that seemed to waft up from his fur. He could never get the smell of ash out of his head no matter how hard he tried.

Etium knew there was something wrong with him, but he kept that to himself. The others tended to avoid him, and that was alright. He was friends with the Finnari, and while they were a bit sensitive, he supposed that was ok. He didn’t need anyone asking questions about what he was doing and why he was there.

He ducked through one of the maintenance corridors, and into the hallway behind the rec room.

He could hear humans and Drev talking and laughing on the other side, but when he passed through the next door, he found the hall opened into a large-ish storage room that was lined in boxes and crates. Inside was what remained of the Omen crew. Tesraki, Finnari, Celzex and Yeb. They had a little place here for those aliens who found it difficult to constantly interact with humans.

Yeb was a bit of a special case as she seemed to hop between both without much trouble. She lounged on one of the crates, her tail swishing back and forth against the box below her, bright green fur along her back, waving slightly in the air currents.

Etium leaned against the wall making no noise, and interacting with no one.

He wouldn’t have minded hanging out with humans, and drev, but….. Every time he did he just couldn’t shake the smell of smoke.

Why was he here?

Because he had seen a human boldly risk his life for two wounded alien soldiers.

Etium remembered the red sky above and the ash covered ground beneath. He remembered the wounded Rundi soldier at his side as the creature stalked towards them from the darkness. He remembered the flash of blue, and then an animal howl as the human came charging from nowhere.

When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the blood curdling scream of pain the human had given off as his limbs were ripped from his body.

He shook himself trying to shake the smoke away.

“Clan is more important than anything else.”

Etium lifted his head, arms still crossed over his chest.

“Then mean nothing.” Yeb was saying, “My parents abandoned me in an ice cave when I was just a cub.”

“Not our fault your species is defective.” Lord Avex was saying.

The burg lifted his hands in an attempt to keep the piece, technicolor wings flickering behind him, “Not now, all of you we must remember that as different species we all have different beliefs and needs. He pressed his hands together. The Burg do find clan very important, but it was for our survival for the longest time. There are plenty of other species that don’t need such things, like the Vrul or the Gibb for example, who are solitary creatures.”

The group of three finnari huddled close together and nodded.

They wouldn’t be likely to argue, they hated conflict and tried to keep the peace as much as it was possible.

He glanced over to the side surprised to find Waffles, the dog, lying with her head on her paws, around her neck, the snake creature Jeffery hung like a boa scarf.

He supposed she had any right to be here like the rest of them, she wasn’t human and neither was the snake. Though neither of them were classified as sentient and didn’t have the intelligence to speak. Waffles licked at her paws and Jeffery lifted his head turning to look at the speakers as if he was listening intently.

“This is not about biology, this is about the facts. There is strength in numbers, and numbers can win out over force anyday. Humans are the best example of this and you all know it. They managed to survive on a death world by making packs.”

Lord Avex did have a point, but lord Avex was also known for being an egotistical asshole.

That was sort of the defining feature of Celzex.

The furry little creatures were very proud, and very loyal, so they were both a blessing and an absolute pain to have on your side.

Most of the time they just liked causing problems for the sake of causing problems.

“There is nothing wrong with a solitary existence. My species has been living as single occupants inside a distanced society for a very long time.”

Lord Avex snorted, “Might I also point out that you society is a fascist Authoritarian dictatorship recovering from a pandemic crisis and refuses to join the GA to control their own citizens?”

The hair on the back of her body stood up, “Oh like your planet is any better. Roving warring clans who eat their own children.”

“Please, Peace.” THe burg was saying.

“You have no place in this. The burg have lived under a corrupted monarchy for ages.”

Etium sighed and closed his eyes.

Apparently, he had sighed much louder than he intended, and when he opened his eyes the entire room was looking at him,

“You got something to say.” Avex growled, “Anything to offer from a corporate capitalist hellscape.”

Etium pushed himself off from the wall, “No, I have nothing to say.”

Avex bristled, and when he did he got even fluffier, “I don’t think we are done here. I want to hear what you have to say.”

Etium sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to get out of this one, “I think that all of our societies suck, they just all do it equally.”

The room bristled, but he kept going. He had stuck his foot in it and now he was going to have to deal. He looked at yeb and Avex, “Both of you are true about the other, same with the burg sorry to say.” He nodded over at the winged creature, “But think about it, all of us suck in some way or another,. My species destroyed our own natural habitats in the name of progress, He looked at the Finnari, No cohesive leadership, and a societal wide inability to make decisions. The Vrul live under a corrupted communist system and the Rundi are all politicians, so guess where that leads us. The Drev are a fractured group of clans bent on killing each other for no other reason than the fact that it is honorable. And don’t even get me started on humans, they are the worst of us all, since they can do everything we can and more.”

He sort of expected the uproar that followed, but kept his head low to avoid having to deal with it. He brushed a hand through his fur, attempting, mostly to brush the ash from it, and despite being able to feel it with his fingertips, he saw none break loose.

The room grew louder and louder until a sharp bark broke the silence.

The room went very quiet very suddenly.

He turned to see waffles had risen up into a sitting position, her hackles raised.

She growled low in her throat , and the entire room calmed down very quickly after that, Jeffery opened his mouth and turned his head like a periscope around the room.

Waffles slid back onto the floor and rested her chin on her paws ears sticking straight up as she sighed.

The room was only slowly able to return to its former discussion, though everyone remained mostly quiet.

Etium slumped back against the wall. He could see the other Tesraki across the room staring at him. He tried to ignore them for the most part, he didn’t really fit in with them to any sort of degree. He didn’t blame them.

He wasn’t particularly good with finances.

He didn’t have to be though, most humans were pretty poort at it too, so any ability whatsoever was considered good. That was another reason why he was here. If he was slow and ok at handling money, then he was going to be fine. If he tried to work anywhere else as a Tesraki….

He'd be fired

Or disowned…

Etium quietly slipped from the room, out and down the hallway. He knew where he was going, and followed his own memory down through the hallways until he came to a door. He knocked once.

“Come in.”

The door slid open and he stepped into a room lit by soft yellow light. Dr Adric was sitting at his desk, skin glowing a pale yellow in the dim lighting. He looked up, and when he smiled his teeth flashed white.

“Etium, it is good to see you. I didn’t expect you till our session tomorrow.”

Etium wandered into the room glancing down at the diagrams on the wall, and the large books on the shelves beside the desk. “Do you want me to leave.”

“No, of course not, take a seat.”

He did and stared up at the ceiling with a sigh.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Etium was quiet for a while, but finally opened his mouth to speak, “I can still smell the ash sometimes, Feel it in my fur when I go to bed. It…. doesn't really bother me most of the time, and I know it’s not real, but it certainly feels that way.”

Dr Adtric leaned on his desk and nodded, “Did you know somatic hallucinations are extremely common In Tesraki.”

He rubbed his fur, “Really?”

“Yes, at least one in twenty report small things. Feelings of items brushing over their fur even when nothing is there. If it starts to bother you, come to me and we will look into helping it. Otherwise just remember the exercises I taught you.”

He shifted in his seat and absently looked at the wall, “So if Somatic hallucinations are common in Tesraki….. Than what about everyone else?”

Dr Adric smiled at him. His expression, both charming and calming at the same time. He had an eir about him that just seemed to make things slow down and relax. It was a nice feeling to have.

“Well both Vrul and Gibb are prone to psychosis with obsessive and grandiosity characteristics. Most Vrul I know could be classified as having some sort of anxiety. Rundi are commonly seen with OCD. Celzex presents with characteristics of Antisocial personality disorder.  Finnari can commonly be seen with dependent personality disorders. Both the Drevb and the Starborn, have a high rate of narcissism. In the case of the starborn, they have a 100% rate at this time…. Though to be fair we only have one starborn”

Etium couldn’t help but smile just a little. “Humans have all of those things I guess, since you have a name for all of them.”

“Yes. Though, I would say that I work most closely with Post Traumatic Stress.”

“Like what I have?”

“Similarly yes, though yours presents differently.”

“That’s what the Admiral’s dog is for? He said she was a PTSD dog.”

“That would be correct.”

Etium leaned back in his seat and stared out the window behind Adric. The man said he presented with listlessness, difficulty concentrating, and emotional detachment. He didn’t have flashbacks or stress associated, which is why he couldn't be entirely diagnosed, bu7t the two of them were pretty sure whatever he had was similar. They had thought about depression on one or two occasions, but he didn’t have trouble getting out of bed, or doing things that he enjoyed. He just got listless and distracted a lot.

Adric thought it might be an entirely different issue from what humans could get, but as of yet, there wasn’t enough research to determine that. They were working on it in their own right now, and he had been feeling a little more present, but he still wasn’t really there yet.

He hoped that soon he would be out of the rut he was stuck in.,

“Have you managed to tell the Admiral, like we had been talking about.”

Etium picked at the fur on his arm, “He seems…. Too busy to talk to me and I…. well I don’t know what it would accomplish.”

“I think it would be good for you to talk to someone who experienced the war.”

Etium sighed, “I didn’t really do much in the war. I sat there and just… was scared. The humans did everything.”

“I think you might find there are humans that feel the same way you do. I encourage you to talk to him. Knowing the man myself, I have no doubt that he will be accepting  of your story.” He held up his hands, “I don’t want to push you, but I do encourage you to let him know.”

I think it would be good for both of you

[leopardsealz]

list of some of my fave creachurs for no other reason other than im autisming & making lists are so fun

mammals

felines

pinnipeds

deer (includes bootleg deer eg musk deer)

true foxes (aka vulpes genus)

moon bear

aye-aye lemur

orca

sperm whale

false killer whale

birds

peregrine

lammergeier

great skua

magnificent frigatebird

greater black-backed gull

common buzzard

golden eagle

invertebrates

wasps / hornets

spiders / tarantulas

sea slugs

dragonflies

planarians

deaths head hawk moth

cephalopods

fish

whale shark

hagfish

lampreys

sailfish

sturgeon

eels

seahorses / sea dragons

giant snakehead

northern pike

reptiles

king cobra

gaboon viper

komodo dragon

green anaconda

arabian sand boa

red-tailed green rat snake

alligator snapping turtle

gharial

amphibians

olm

hellbender

caecillians

[dragonblobz]

INJURIES PT 3

After a billion years HERE IT IS...... another non smutty installment of the request made by @lilfriezatyrant 🤣 I swear there will eventually be smut. I'm just enjoying this too much. Wrote this to Battle Cry by Imagine Dragons

The cot creaks and shifts as you try to lay next to him as gently as possible on your side facing him. He’s not that large, but the cot isn’t either, and as you relax, the middle of the thing sinks, causing your body to drift along the side of him.

His leg is very cool on your leg. His tail flicks the cover over you sloppily. You shiver and reach down to adjust this blanket more smoothly, trying to be discreet about moving your leg away from his. But your movement just makes the cot sag more and you slide even closer. He chuckles amiably.

“I’ll not scald you, (Y/N). In fact…..” His tail slips between the cover and your shirt to press you into his body. It’s cold enough to be felt even thru the fabric of your shirt. “…… Get over here. Your body heat is pleasant.”

You place your palms together and slip your hands under your cheek, just looking at his darkened profile. His hands are still behind his head. Your face is practically in his armpit. If he were a sweaty human, you’d probably be able to smell it. As it is, you can smell him, but it’s not body odor. At least, not human body odor. The smell reminds you of that time your biology instructor had allowed you to hold the boa from the classroom terrarium. Reptilian. Only sweeter. Almost too sweet.

His eyes are closed. There’s just enough dim firelight that you can see the side of his mouth twisted in a smirk.

Your eyes wander up to look at the crystal that seems to just be his cranium. And it’s really pretty right now, the firelight casts orange fairy like flashes in it’s amethyst depths. Like angels among galaxies. Very beautiful.

These little flecks shift as his face turns and those burning red pupils are exposed as his large eyes open. The smirk is still affixed to his mouth and it belies the irritation in his voice.

“Are you going to sleep? Or just look at me all night?”

“Both.” Your own voice is tart and you blush at being had.

His smirk morphs into a full on closed lipped grin as one of his smooth brows raises.

“Oh? And here I was, assuming that you were cold and tired. Shame on me.” The sarcasm is thick.

You don’t say anything. Just squeeze your eyes shut and try to sleep.

Eventually, your body heat pools under the blanket. And it’s the undoing of your consciousness as you gradually fall into dreams.

………………………………………..

It’s some bird that wakes you up this morning. A gentle rhythmic tweeting that is just harsh enough to gradually rouse you from slumber.

The first thing you register as your eyes open is his sleeping face. Pointed skyward, his face looks as innocent as when you’d scraped him off the charred remains of the forest floor 2 days ago.

The low cool toned light of pre dawn thru the walls of your tent casts blue flickers on that purple cranium. He’s really very pretty.

You’ve got a fairly silly sleepy smile on your face as you realize the exact nature of your body placement.

You can feel the cold hardness of that purple spot on his shoulder upon your cheek. You’re so fucking close that when your gaze travels down, you can see the definition of the musculature and venous structures of his neck.

Your arm is draped over his chest, your fingertips pressed into that purple stone like spot on his chest. And, most shameful of all, your leg is across his body, the flesh of your thigh almost directly over his groin.

You are literal stone. Cannot move. Cannot even breathe.

Fuckshitfuckshit.

You’re pretty sure that, should you try to extricate yourself from him, you’ll wake him. So you just lay like this.

He hasn’t moved one iota. Is still in the exact position as the previous evening. Arms still crossed behind his head. The only notable difference is that his tail is completely wrapped around your abdomen. Twice. And absolutely under your shirt. The strange texture of it doesn’t feel as cold as it had the night before. Perhaps your body heat really DOES help.

After a time, you finally move. But just your head. You look down at the hand on his chest. You watch your own fingertips curl and press into that icy purple spot.

“Just touch me, (Y/N). I grow weary of your hesitation.”

You nearly jump entirely out of your skin.

His eyes remain closed. Face relaxed, save a the barest hints of a smirk, which you can barely see out of the corner of your eye.

“No…… no that’s okay. Really, I should get up and check your wounds.”

You sit up, remove your hand from him. But you don’t get far.

His tail constricts slightly underneath your shirt. An uncomfortable warning. He still hasn’t moved. But his mouth twists into a sneer.

“My injuries will wait. I’m getting rather tired of your impulsive tendency to ignore my good will.”

One hand leaves his cranium and, upon the movement, you notice that the wound upon his head has completely vanished. Geez…… this guy heals FAST. And his eyes are still closed.

This hand slowly reaches for your arm. The movement is easy to predict. Purposeful. You know just what he’s going to do. And you do nothing to stop him.

His cool fingers wrap around your wrist and pull your hand, just as slowly……. Almost inexorably……… grip as firm as a vice, back to that icy purple spot on his chest. And he holds it there.

His eyes finally open, and he gazes at you. His face is unreadable for a moment before he grins at you impishly.

“There. Look at that! Your hand is still intact.” Mirthful chuckles. You blush and scowl at him. But his eyes almost twinkle with his merriment at your discomfort before he continues.

“Now. Satisfy your infernal curiosity so that we can get along with this day.” His fingers gradually loosen their grip. As if he’s waiting for you to yank your hand from him.

You don’t. And so his hand returns to its twin to cradle his head.

It is strange. Such unmitigated access to an alien being. You simply rest your hand upon him. It’s not like you haven’t touched him. You’d cleaned him up that very first day. But, other than a curious touch to his face, that had been very business like. Just cleaning up an injured beast.

But this beast is very much conscious now. Very much awake. And very much aware of every movement you’re making.

You sit up straighter and place your other hand upon his belly. It quivers slightly under your touch before relaxing. Instinctive. But he remains motionless.

You run your palms along his abdomen. His skin is cool along his belly, but warm where your leg had been laying a few minutes ago. You notice his large toes flexing at the bottom of the makeshift brace sticking out of the cover.

Your hands reach the blanket, bunched at his hips. You blush and run them quickly back up to his chest. He chuckles again but doesn’t speak.

You can feel the delicate texture of his skin. Can see the luminescence even in the low light, shifting around your fingers as you prod now into his pectorals around that amethyst splotch. He’s really very muscular for such a slender thing. You can feel the firm flesh underneath that skin.

Your focusing so hard on this as your fingertips trail up to his neck that you don’t notice how intense his gaze is upon you. At least, not until you think about touching his face, until you look. You hesitate. He says nothing.

You pull your hands away and, so fast that you never actually SEE him move, his fingers are, once again, wrapped around your wrist. But, oddly enough, you’re not startled at all.

You hand is frozen mid air, his grip a pale manacle. You look at it. Notice how glossy his nails are. Like obsidian. And bring your other hand up to trace the delicate looking bone structure of this hand around your wrist.

He then pulls again, just as slowly. But this time he does not pull your hand to his chest. It is the same as before. You know exactly what he’s going to do. And just as the last time, you do not resist as he presses your palm to his jaw. His crimson eyes study you. Your mind conjures a momentary hysterical image of a child patting a dragon. You suppose that this is just what you are.

His hand continues to hold yours to his face. And you bring your other hand up to match this touch on the other side. And there you are. Cupping the face of an alien. His lips are a thin line as he speaks.

“Your hands are warm. Your touch is pleasant. You have the hands of a true healer.”

You rub your thumbs along the corners of his dark lips. You can feel the tendons of his face move as he speaks again.

“I cannot recall, but I feel as if this is something I would not normally allow anyone to do.” He smirks again. “Do you feel honored, (Y/N)? You SHOULD feel so.”

Your face is relaxed and smooth with awe. This is all just so surreal. Maybe you’re still asleep? Well….. if this is a dream…..

“Yes. I think I am.” Your words are a dry croak. His smirk deepens.

“Well, if that curiosity is quite satisfied, I think I am ready to allow you to examine…….”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish as you throw caution to the wind, lean forward, and kiss him.

[crispysnakes]

'24 1.2 Kemper x Tudehope Surinames

Eating f/t adult mice once every 10-14 days. 

These kids are ready to go! Check them out on MM here.

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

What is the difference between BCIs and BCCs?

They're very similar! The differences are definitely significant enough that you'll want to carefully consider before buying a pet boa constrictor, though.

BCCs, Boa constrictor constrictor, are your true red-tailed boas. They tend to have tails that are bright red and very clean, clear markings. They grow slower but are generally significantly larger. They average 7-10 feet long.

BCIs, Boa constrictor imperator, are what we call common boas. They tend to have orange-ish tails and be a bit less colorful and don't have markings that are as sharply defined. They grow much faster but are significantly smaller on average. They're also the most docile and easy to work with of the boa constrictors, and average 5-7 feet long.

One decent-ish way to tell them apart is that BCC markings can look like the Batman symbol when viewed from above. It's not universal, especially when you get into designer morphs, but it's true enough a lot of keepers use it as a tell.

[paperficwriter]

A Deer Dance (Charlastor, Hazbin Hotel)

Alastor is a deer demon, and while he's never been lonely, he's not going to say no to a little doe that seems as interested in him as he with her.

Dirty Paper warning!

---

Living or dead, Alastor always did like to believe that he was one of a kind. The best of the best, and a step above the rest. And, in many ways, he was right; when he compared himself to other radio personalities, or home chefs, or, now, demon lords, that knowledge that he was better would add a skip in his step and the huge smile on his face.

He wondered if that gap that remained open between him and everyone else was the reason why his appearance was so different here. He’d never seen another deer demon before. All of the other shapes of demonic beasts were represented, certainly. Wolves. Bears. Goats. God, so many goats, it had ruined any dish with meat or milk that he might come across.

There were rumors of others, but perhaps his presence, his power, had sent them all into hiding.

That would make sense. Alastor didn’t particularly appreciate being shown up (and most denizens across the Nine Circles were more than aware of that). Just his average appearance - his dashing suit, the cloven prints of his shoes, the long fluffy tufts of his hair and his sharp-toothed grin - parted many a crowd, but in his true demonic form with its rack of horns and dead-eyed, sharp-toothed leer, most hoped to just survive the encounter.

But it was in his fairly casual shape that he went to Mimzy’s Club for a colorful event that she was hosting that particular evening. The Burlesque Revue had been all the talk across the city for several weeks before, something that was supposed to combine the lurid fantasies that were commonplace in this corner of Hell with something a little more artistic.

“Listen, if there’s gonna be stripping, ain’t nobody gonna say no to that,” he had heard one demon say as they looked at the poster of one particularly long-legged dame with a boa around her shoulders. “If they wanna make it fancy, s’alright by me, just so long as they take it all off at the end, yeah?”

There certainly wasn’t any proof that Alastor had set the unbearable dolt on fire. People combust all the time in Hell!

After all, the concept alone sounded entertaining enough for Alastor, that was for certain, but what really intrigued him the most was the rumor that the whole thing was being hosted to bring attention to some hospitality project being taken on by the Princess of Hell herself, Charlotte Magne. And if she was anything like the classical piece of art her mother Lilith was on stage, he did not want to miss this for anything.

Mimzy clearly had tried to doll up the place. There were fairy lights everywhere, and thick drapes of black and red velvet scooped down from each pillar along the edge of the club floor. An entire area had been elevated into a stage and that was littered with props and poles and bars.

“Al!” Mimzy gushed as soon as he came in, rushing over to take both of his hands. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you. These people are annoying the shit out of me. I forgot how the artsy crowd could be such a bunch of divas.”

“Mim, Mim, Mim,” he tutted, “I think you just described the entire population of the here-after. The artists just happen to have practice, don’t you know?”

They laughed about that, and then someone spoke up behind him, a young, sweet voice that was so different from the raucous roar he was used to that it was almost startling. “Hey, Mimzy, I’m so sorry to bother you. Can we get a little more light on stage left?”

“What do I look like, an electrician?”

“No, but the electrician snuck into one of the dancer’s dressing rooms, and I’m pretty sure he won’t be waking up anytime soon.”

Mimzy sighed as Alastor turned to the source of the voice. “I’ll get right on it, Princess,” she groused before disappearing.

And there she was. The Heir to the Throne of Hell. What had Alastor been expecting? Someone dressed like Lucifer, probably, a mess of over-the-top vaudevillian aesthetic and an extremely untrustworthy face. And yet somehow, that horrible cretin had helped to birth the most beautiful creature Alastor had ever laid his eyes on. Even if it had just been the classy black dress, the diamonds in a cascading pattern down her neck, the silver apple tiara atop her blond hair styled in a gorgeous updo...all that would have been more than enough to catch Alastor’s attention, but then...

“Charlie. Please.” She said it like it was one of a thousand times she had insisted. And although Mimzy was already gone, her ears perked at Alastor.

Her slightly furry, tear-drop shaped ears, and a tail turned up behind her where the dress had been perfectly cut to let it out.

Another demon just like him. No, not just like him. A doe.

“Well,” he greeted with a low bow. “I’m glad I won’t be making that mistake. I will never call you by a name that is not your preference, my dear.”

She giggled into her hand, covered by a long opera glove that matched the black of her dress. “I appreciate it. And you must be Alastor. Unless you prefer ‘the Radio Demon’?”

Oh, she was a quick one. Not that Alastor was ever good at flying under the radar. “I would prefer ‘yours,’ actually.”

That got an even darker blush from her already-rosy cheeks. Her tail twitched a little bit. “That’s a title that comes with many responsibilities, Alastor,” she said through a little smile, clearly trying to keep up with him.

“Where do I send my resume, darling, because I’m always looking for a job with better benefits.”

“Well, you certainly know how to dress to impress.” Charlie bit her lip as she glanced at him up and down. Alastor knew when he was being sized up, and he let her take him in, knowing already that she was having the same response to him as he had to her. You’re someone like me, her eyes said. After so long.  

“Maybe in this case,” he said quietly, stepping in close to her. “I should have left the suit at home. After all, you should dress for the job you want, shouldn’t you?”

Charlie leaned in. This close, he could see all the soft strands of fur on her ears, the pink inside. He wanted so, so much to touch them, but...not yet. There would be time and privacy for that yet. “I’d really like to continue this interview,” she whispered, “but as you can see I have a revue to oversee.”

“After, then,” he said, slipping her hand into his and cradling it. So small. Delicate. “I have a tower with an extremely quaint office overlooking the city. It’s quite comfortable, you’ll find.”

She nodded, voice breathless. “After.”

---

Charlie let Alastor take her home. If anything, Alastor thought he noticed her speed up a bit through her acknowledgements and post-show credits, now and then glancing his way. Nobody else would notice, but he could see the way her tail was flashing, how she wanted to run.

Run to him, no less.

And she did, in the huge fluffy stole that she had worn on stage after her act when her dress had been taken off and then pulled back on only as a skirt, her pale skin just showing though her breasts were hidden. He had never driven himself faster back to his Radio Tower.

The only person down in the “lobby” was Husk, and he was playing a computerized slot machine that he had won in a game with Alastor (though to be fair, Alastor let him win, because otherwise he threatened to leave altogether, and one piece of infernal technology was payment enough for service he could count on).

“Don’t wait up, Husker-chum,” he said, Charlie on his arm.

“Why the fuck would I literally ever care what you are do...do...” He trailed off in that moment. Husk had looked up momentarily from the game, catching a glance at Charlie, and his mouth just stayed in that same ‘o’ until they were in the elevator. Then, as though realizing that the moment Charlie went upstairs with Alastor it would all be over, he fell over himself running toward the quickly-closing doors. “Hey, what’s the rush?!” he asked hastily. “Let’s hang out! The night’s young! We can get some drinks or hit a bar or--” Alastor snapped his fingers, and the doors refused to open, even as he hit the button. “I’m not always great with sharing,” he said as Charlie was quietly laughing into the fur around her neck.

“Good,” she said, dropping the wrap to the red floor. She stood before him now with nothing but diamonds from the waist up, blinking at him bashfully despite the fact that she was the one who had made this quite-forward, more-than-brazen move. In the mirrored wall of the elevator, he could see her tail, soft and twitching just so. Now, now he did reach out to caress it, to run his long fingers through it. She shivered and instinctively huddled close to him. “So what were you saying about your qualifications before?”

As much as he had planned to continue their little tete-a-tete, it was hard to manage at the sight of her so natural. He pulled her out of the elevator when they reached the top floor and made quick work of getting her out of the rest of the dress. He dragged his mouth across her thigh, the little freckles there looking like the same pattern on young does.

At some point, his antlers sprang from his head, creaking slightly like branches over them, and when she sprang to his boudoir, he didn’t know how she would respond to his coming up from behind her, grabbing her waist and pressing in tight and close where she could feel the bulge in his pants.

He didn’t think she would moan and raise her tail to him, inviting him inside.

It wasn’t the only way they would have one another that night, but it was the most intense. The most instinctive, the best and only way he could imagine fucking in this form of his that he had gained. They didn’t speak, not even each other’s names, and yet he felt like he had known her for eternity before that, and that she wasn’t some mysterious woman that had just happened to fall into his life.

They didn’t even kiss until that first round was over, when she was gasping and clutching at the covers of his four-post bed, and he had nuzzled her face until it met his.

“I think,” she said softly, sometime quite a while later, her head on his chest, gold hair now free and messy all over his sheets, “we might have a position available for you.”

“Only one?” he teased as he rolled her onto her back and came back down to kissing her neck.

[thequeengoesroar]

A batch of four of my fav Jellicle Queens-But they’re full human instead of half cat half human lol

Bomba would be such a sexy bombshell as the Queen she is-with dat spikey collar and a tight fitting dress to show off her curves. She prob flirts with every tom but can’t find a true relationship that’s not toxic for both of them. Doesn’t care anyway. Drinks alot when the kittens are asleep. Wears hot red lipstick 24/7. ROCKS that smokey feline eye makeup. Actually a nice sister and a cool vodka auntie to the younger girls of the pack.

Rumpleteazer would be a teen, aged about 17-19. Still childish and naughty, is a tomboy. Has lots of guy friends and was caught shoplifting several times but returned everything back to the store after doing it. Great at acrobatics and can turn a cartwheel whenever she wants. Especially close with her twin Mungojerrie. Her friends have never seen her without her twin. Has orange hair with brown/plantinum blonde highlights. The freckles on her cheeks are just fucking adorable. Still loved by everyone. Is a great friend with her uncle Skimbleshanks, who works at the night mail train. Secretly enjoys Skimble’s dad jokes.

Victoria would be slightly younger than Rumpleteazer. About 15-17. Very soft spoken and enjoys stuff like knitting and sewing. Loves romance novels and listens to classical, but never sings. Learned ballet since a very young age, extremely flexible. Is very new to love and would like to find her mate. Has a good relationship with her brother Mistoffelees. He sometimes does some cute magic tricks for her like pulling flowers out of a cup. Has plantinum bonde hair with pale skin. Her wide blue eyes are so mesmerizing.

Grizabella would be in her 50-60s, and is prob homeless. Was actually hotter than Bomba when she was young and left her family for her own fame and glory. Quickly loses dignity when she started to gain wrinkles on her face. Hated by the Jellicles but Jemima helped her regain ber trust from the other cats. Old D manages to find a shelter for her. Underweight due to not having eaten for a long time. Smokes ALOT. Saggy skin and smeared mascara. Salt and pepper hair that has been unwashed.

YeH thats it for today did any of u guys notice the lil touches I made on them to resemble their feline tails Like Bomba has her fur boa, Rumple had her dangling belt, Victoria has her floof yarn, and Griz has her cigar fumes swirling around her.

Ill be back with Rumple and Mungo.

[songofsaraneth]

badwolf1110 replied to your photoset :took the King for a walk in the sunshine on...

Where did you get her/what breeder? My boyfriend and I are considering getting one at some point but all the online sites look a bit sketchy

@badwolf1110​

Hi! I got her from an individual breeder who I found via a facebook group for Boa Constrictors/Imperators. I found it a great resource for both info on snake care/handling, health issues, and a way to network with different breeders. Unfortunately, in the last few months it was removed from facebook :( They are cracking down on animal sales posts and even though the group transitioned to not having animal sales on the page itself, I guess it got eaten. 

When I was looking to buy a boa, I first read up a bunch about the different species/subspecies (depending on how you classify it), morphs, and localities. The first thing you’re basically deciding is if you want a boa imperator (“columbian/common red tail boa”) or a boa constrictor (“true red tail boa”, from a variety of localities). B. imperator is more common in the pet trade/what you’re likely to find in a pet store (although please buy from a breeder not a pet store if you can), and they’re great, they stay a little smaller than most B. constrictor species (5-6 to 6-7 feet for male/female), and this is the species that can come in all sorts of beautiful morphs/color patterns. MorphMarket.com is a great place to check out different color patterns if you want an idea of what’s what, though I’d also then google the morph name to see what it looks like on an adult as well as a baby since they do change as they get older. You can also find wild type aka “normal” boa imperators. Pros: smaller final size means less space needed as an adult, they grow a bit faster, their digestive system is less finicky than b. constrictor so you don’t have to worry as much about regurgitation issues, and they’re now very common in the pet trade so you can find one pretty inexpensively. 

Boa constrictors are not sold by morph, but rather locality. They’re all “wild type” coloration and pattern but there is variety between how they look based on where they come from. Here’s a list of the localities with some photos. BC tend to get a little larger but take longer to grow (6-8 to 8-10 feet for male/female though some localities are dwarf boas/run smaller than imperators even). They also sometimes have more specific husbandry requirements/can potentially be prone to more digestive issues though as long as you’re careful you probably will never have to deal with that. With localities, the goal with breeding is not to see what the wildest colors and patterns can be created, but to preserve the natural diversity of the species as you would find it in the wild. They’re all the same species and can interbreed (and there’s not borders between their habitats so assuredly do on occasion in the wild anyway), but the goal in the hobby is to preserve these genetic differences, and so they are often a lot more expensive. You can get a normal or common morph BI for $100 but a locality BC will be closer to $600-800 from a respectable breeder, though you can certainly find them for less, especially if you look after peak season for leftover babies.

Reptifiles is a great online resource for care sheets and information for all of the above species/localities. The Complete Boa Constrictor/The More Complete Boa Constrictor books by Vin Russo are also an excellent resource, although I think the husbandry represents a standard not an ideal in terms of cage size/enrichment. The facebook group Advancing Herpetological Husbandry is a great resource for going above and beyond the minimum of snake care, which is important, especially for snakes that can get quite large and don’t typically have as much space to explore. Definitely read up on all these things before deciding to purchase or not! I keep Kazul in a 4 foot vivarium right now, and this summer will buy another 4 foot section to add on for an 8foot total tank while she grows (she’s 4 feet and 3~4 inches right now i think). I’d love to go even bigger someday (4x4x8 is my dream) but I can’t do that right now haha, so I just make sure I get her out of the tank often for enrichment and exercise. 

For the specifics on buying Kazul: I also didn’t love the websites when I was looking to buy a BC because they just seemed to be selling bulk snakes with not much information, and I found most of the breeders I liked didn’t have their own websites to buy from directly. Some do, but I knew I wanted a specific locality boa, so facebook was a lot easier to network on/look for people selling what I wanted. There may be some groups left on there worth checking out. I picked her breeder--a man named Todd Zarling--specifically because he was more of an enthusiastic hobbiest than breeding tons of snakes every season to sell in bulk to websites for a profit, so I felt his animals were getting more individual attention/care, which was a personal preference of mine. His pairing was for Guyanese locality  Boa constrictor constrictor, and he had the lineage’s of his own pair of snakes back to their wild caught grandparents, and who imported/owned them. He sent me photos of them so I could see what her relatives looked like :) I also was looking to buy in September/October after August birthing season, but wasn’t able to take her until my field season ended in November, so it was important to me to be able to buy from someone happy & willing to hold onto her an extra month or two, which he was. I unfortunately don’t know if he is breeding still or this year, because of the facebook group deletion. Here’s some photos on Reptile Insider though of Kazul’s litter (she’s in that big group pic somewhere!!!!) and parents. 

I don’t remember the other individuals I was looking at, unfortunately. Depending on what species, morph, or locality you decide to go for, I may be able to provide a bit more direction. There’s several keepers on tumblr who breed who I’d trust the care & health from too, but a lot of smaller individual breeders stick to a handful of morphs/localities/etc each year, so may not have what you want available. 

Whew! that got long sorry!!!! I hope this helps at all and I’m happy to talk more about it if you have further questions, though I’m out of the currently-breeding loop at the moment since I’m not looking to aquire another boa right now (I’ve been researching mexican black kingsnake breeders for the last few months instead, haha). If you can provide the space & care boas really are rewarding and fascinating pets :) Here’s some pics of Kazul from today to make up for the wall o text: 

[hellsangelsheavensrejects]

Present Day: The Ninth Circle

Blythe

"Do you really think he could ever love you?"

Harry

Harry didn’t look at John.

The demon’s barbed words hit home in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible only a few days ago. But now… now he didn’t know what to think.

He didn’t even fully know his own past, after all, and that was because John had tampered with his mind. A violation of trust that threw every single moment he’d had with John into an entirely different light.

Just how much had Constantine fucked with his head? Manipulated him? Conned him? Looked right at him and lied to his face while sharing stark naked, laid-open bare intimacy with one another?

Well. Not as open as he had thought.

Harry didn’t look at John. He didn’t want to see the lies still written on his face.

Instead, he looked at Blythe, spitting blood onto the ground as he gave an ineffectual wrench on his chains. “Hey... who needs love... wh-when you could have a homicidal... stick bug of an ex string you up and torture you to death instead?”

John and Blythe

Someone very, very powerful had drawn the binding circles on the ground around both the warlocks. Circles that firmly kept magic out.

The two warlocks themselves, were shackled at hands and feet, the metal inscribed with runes of power.

John would be flattered at the effort, if he hadn't been sick with pain.

Oh, no, Blythe hadn't done anything to him beyond forcing him to his knees and clasping the shackles around wrists and ankles. His pain wasn't physical. Not yet. Not like Harry's.

His torture was purely and exquisitely of the emotional variety.

Forced to watch and listen as Blythe turned their full, hellish attention on Harry.

Harry himself, was strung up by his shackles, his feet barely reaching the ground and hands fastened spread out to either side over his head. The position left him to either strain to push himself up on his toes or to suffocate from the weight of his own body.

Crucifixion torture minus the crucifix. How very sarcastic of you, Blythe.

And the demon hadn't just left it at that. Oh, of course not.

Over their shoulder, tangling elegantly with the bright red feathers on whatever appendage it was that most people would mistake for a boa, hung a bullwhip. Two inches thick where their clawed hand held onto it and tapering down, down down to three thin leather straps tipped with glinting metal.

They were good with it.

When they had started, it was only those sharp metal spikes that had kissed Harry's skin. Hours ago.

But the last two lashes, Blythe had used the thick body of the whip, where the leather was woven tightly into itself, to catch him around the sides of his torso, driving out the air from his already struggling lungs and leaving forearm thick, quickly bruising stripes.  The blood Harry spat out made the possibility of some internal damage way, way too real.

John had watched, eyes wide even if each lash felt like it caught him across the heart. This was his torture.

Harry was the tool, not the target.

And John worried that if Blythe thought that it wasn't affecting him enough, that he wasn't paying enough attention … they'd do worse.

So he watched.

--- Blythe laughed a sharp little laugh, genuine humour in their  wind-between-dead-branches voice.

"Death?", they chuckled and frowned, all six of their glowing red eyes now open and squinting with amusement. "No, I've got no plans to kill John."

They stepped closer to Harry and tipped the whip, letting the tail of it caress his chest. Their smile widened when they heard the sharp intake of breath, the desperate click of John's throat as he swallowed against what was sure to be nausea.

"John taught me a beautiful lesson about suffering.", they continued. "And that is that human suffering is so much more effective when you're still alive. Living in pain, dear Harry, is such a sweet, sweet appetizer for what is waiting for him in Hell. And he's doing a very good job at killing himself. Did he tell you that he's dying from cancer? Or is that something else that he kept from you?"

Harry

Harry knew pain. Every kind of pain imaginable. He knew it on a more intimate level than most could ever even dream of. Pain was an old friend of his, kept close to his heart, fueling his actions, feeding his will, overflowing from his memories. Giving him the incentive to keep fighting, to keep standing between the monsters in the world and the people he had chosen to protect with his very life.

He knew pain, but he had never known pain quite like the pain that John Constantine had inflicted on him. Even Blythe's barb-tipped scourge didn't come close. Even as it tore the skin of his torso and back to shreds again and again and again for what felt like an eternity, even as the power of Blythe's blows left cracked ribs and dark bruises. Even as he struggled to find purchase with his bare feet, fatigued legs threatening to collapse underneath him and leave him to suffocate.

The breath rattled in his lungs as he pushed himself up with shaking legs enough to drag in a mouthful of air. Blythe's mocking laughter seemed to skitter and crawl over him in creeping, stinging trails that shivered down his skin.

No, I've got no plans to kill John.

Those simple words were a stark reminder of why he was here. Blythe wasn't torturing Harry. Not really.

They were torturing John. Harry was just a means to an end. Do you really think he could ever love you? Blythe had asked, voice dripping with condescension.

Images of that morning swept through his mind, the morning that his memories had finally broken through in full. The morning he had realized that the man he had fallen in love with-- again-- had broken into his mind and stolen something precious to him, violating him in every way imaginable.

What. Did. YOU. DO?!

I saved your life.

Harry closed his eyes as Blythe drew nearer. The whip touched his chest, and despite not wanting to give them the satisfaction of a reaction, he couldn't stop the flinch that jolted through his body, or the soft whimper that escaped through clenched teeth.

And then another revelation came, and Harry opened his eyes, finally turning them to John. Finally seeing the agony written on his lover's-- his ex-lover's face, an agony that rivalled his own.

Cancer.

John was dying.

And no, he had not told Harry. Because of course he hadn't.

He turned his eyes back to Blythe, teeth grinding. “You'd... know all about H-Hell... wouldn't you?” A cough racked his body, shoulders burning as the impulse to double over made him pull on his chains. “F'you're f-feeling nostalgic... kn-know of a nice little... travel agency you could b-bbook with...”

John and Blythe

Harry turned his attention to him and John looked away.

Coward.

What good would a Soulgaze do them now? Except cause even more pain.

So, John stared into the darkness beyond the reach of the candles all around them. And there … just at the edge … was there someone? Something?

He could almost see a silhouette. A shape made of darkness a little lighter than the mere absence of light. And … were those …

"Oh, this one really got spunk, John.", Blythe laughed and John's attention snapped back to them. To Harry. "This is really such a shame. We could have had so much fun, you know, if you hadn't broken our deal."

"An' I paid for tha', didn'I?", John ground out between clenched teeth. "Twice."

"Twice?", Blythe replied with mock surprise. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Being forced into inaction against Nergal was for breaking our deal. Sweet little Oliver was just my bonus."

They stepped out of the circle around Harry, hoofed feet careful to avoid the delicate lines and stopped right outside the line of John's magical prison. "Sweet little Oliver was for you tricking me the first time."

John scoffed a laugh. "Aaw, So sorry.", he spat and leaned forward, towards them, taking the slack out of the chains attached to his shackles. "C'm'ere an' I'll make i' up to you."

Blythe crouched down then and tutted. "Oh, John. I know that you think you're smarter than everyone else, but even with all these precautions, I'm not stupid enough to come close to you.", they grinned at him, full of sharp teeth. "Your ego really is your downfall. I mean, wasn't that why you took dear Harry's memories? Because you thought you could handle it on your own? Yes, I think that was exactly what you admitted to me, your dick still inside me while you cried your eyes out."

Their words were like a lash of their whip. And when Blythe turned their sly expression up to Harry, John knew. That little revelation was just as much part of the torture.

"You see, dear Harry. It didn't take John much time at all to return back to his old ways."

"Shut up!", John demanded sharply, teeth clenched. "You tricked me."

"Oh, did I? I mean, yeah, I did. But only with who I was. You wanted your pretty little succubus, didn't you? Because you were missing the demonic part of you. The power that you got from consorting with us. You, Johnny boy, wanted the power back that came with being Tainted. Did he ever tell you about that, Harry? That he made a deal with a demon. Demonic blood and all the power that comes with it for a little bit of help? Don't answer, spare your breath. Of course he didn't. You really have to work on your communication skills, John."

Harry

John avoided Harry's gaze, because why would John do anything but avoid having to face up to his actions? It seemed pretty much true to form. Why should he expect a sudden change just because the two of them were sharing a super fun torture dungeon with John's jilted ex-lover playing pass-the-pain?

And yet, when Blythe stepped away from him to approach John, Harry felt himself tense, his wheezing, labored breaths taking on a frantic edge as he tugged at his chains. Pain licked across the skin of his wrists like flame. The cold iron had spread a slowly creeping burn around his wrists and ankles; his flesh had turned bright red after the first hour, like a chemical burn, and was now slowly darkening, seeping, blackened, spidery veins visible in his arms and legs just past the shackles. The metal-barbed whip that had left hundreds of shallow slices in his skin didn't help matters either. Weakness had long since flooded his body, nausea and vertigo turning his stomach and swirling inside his head. It was all he could do to keep pushing up with his legs, to keep dragging desperate, ragged gasps of air into his lungs. Heaven help him if Blythe decided to start breaking bones.

Grinding his teeth, he watched the demon approach the captive magician, helpless to stop them. Again, he remembered that this entire ordeal was meant to hurt John, and his heart lurched in his chest as an image of that cruel whip shredding pale skin burned itself through his mind. Nausea crawled up his stomach, and he swallowed, forcing down a surge of bile.

Even with all that John had done to him, the thought of seeing him hurt was almost too much to bear. And then came another revelation. Blythe shifted their eyes back up to Harry, and he glared back at them, fighting the tears that prickled at his eyes. He'd be damned if he would give Blythe the satisfaction of a visible reaction.

...your dick still inside me while you cried your eyes out...

...demonic blood and all the power that comes with it...

Constantine was not denying anything. Blythe was speaking true.

The man kneeling in the circle was a stranger. Harry had never known him, not really. Even as intimate as they had been.

Hell's bells. He'd always been prone to wearing rose-colored glasses when it came to his lovers, but this really took the cake.

“Who... the fuck... are you?” he whispered.  “You... fucking b... bastard...”