Ghost hated snakes. He hated them with a burning passion.

He had his traumas, but snakes were a childhood fear he just couldn't get over. He fucking hated them, the scaly cunts.

Which, of course, meant that he'd meet you, a naga, after moving into his new house out in the countryside. He'd been out exploring the surrounding lands, taking it all in, when he'd come across your nest. A little uneasy, he'd ventured into see just what this was– see what made this nest.

And then he laid eyes on you.

Large, scaled, venomous fucking you.

"Fuckin' hell," Ghost muttered, eyes wide as he stared at you, horrified. Despite everything he'd seen and done, he was frozen stiff as he took in your long, coiling tail, the impossibility of this situation not lost on him.