#lamia: threads

[goldenthreadstories]

The sun is shining and he is sat out in the garden of his little cottage, sitting at the table out there with a nice iced juice. It was not only a nice day for himself put also for his friends to run around.

Currently his Gengar is playing hide and seek with some of the new comers, while the others are enjoying some time in the shade of the trees and bushes that make up his garden.

His ever faithful partner Mimikyu is curled as best as it can be into his lap now, as he is sketching something on the pad of paper on the table with one hand.

However the presence at the front wooden gate, gains Qrow's attention as eyes flick up to the person and he pauses, a small smile now.

"I am so sorry if my little friends were making too much noise, it's too nice a day for 'em to stay cooped up inside!"

open starter with qrow lamia!

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: Daytime, June 7, 2024 LOCATION: Downtown PARTIES:  Anita (@gossipsnake) & Paris (@welcometoparis) CONTENT: n/a SUMMARY: Anita comes across a strange newcomer and offers Paris some friendly lamia advice and some slightly less friendly fashion advice.

After a long trek of reading maps and pickpocketing the right people to afford the bus fare, Paris was in Wicked’s Rest with no more than the powder blue scrubs he wore and the camera he’d taken with him from the lab. He was practically vibrating with nerves, looking around at all the people who walked about the downtown area. Some people stared at him funny, and he was completely unaware of the spectacle he was making of himself, barefoot and lost. Not to mention the tail he had partially shifted with. No one had bothered to tell him, what would they say? Hey buddy, did you know you’ve got a tail? No, no one was going to make mention of the large scaly black and yellow tail that dragged and flicked around behind him. 

His hair was long and unkempt from years of not being able to cut it, not able to take care of it. “Excuse me,” he finally spoke to a woman who stared at him. “What are people staring at?” Paris asked simply, innocently. He shifted back and forth on his bare feet, tail swishing behind him. His English was too proper, clear that it wasn’t his first language, that all of this was foreign to him. This wasn’t his mangrove back home. This was a town full of people who didn’t know of his kind, didn’t know of the atrocities that had been forced upon him. 

He shuddered, then forced the memories of that terrible place out of his mind. “Oh. I am Paris. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” He thrust a hand out toward the woman, a bright smile on his face, though it didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

__

Over the years Anita had seen far too many things - not just in this town but in life - to find herself truly shocked with any frequency. So as she was making her way through the summer crowds of downtown Wicked’s Rest and she came across a man, looking more out of place than anyone she had seen in a while, shock was not her first reaction. It was the reaction of a lot of people around her, however. Normally she didn’t care to put herself in the way of a negatively perceived spectacle so publicly. This was still a small town and people spread enough rumors about her drinking, womanizing, and strange fascination with insects. But this man had a tail. Not just any tail, a distinctly reptilian tail. 

“They are staring at you, amigo,” Anita replied quickly, scanning the area for the most secluded area to hurry him off to. They were close enough to the bus terminal that she had to presume Paris was new to town. With the way he looked, the way he spoke, the way he wasn’t fully shifted -  Anita didn’t know much but she knew this country was hard to come to as an outsider and only harder the more differences that were piled up. “You can’t be like this in public. If certain people see your tail they will not treat you well. You understand, Paris?” She took his hand, shaking it briefly before leading him down a side street off the main walk, hoping he would follow. 

__ 

Tail? What tail? Paris whipped his head around and caught a glimpse of it, suddenly aware of why people were staring. “I did not mean to… I am not used to this.” He explained as he was made to follow. Who was this woman? Would she lead him somewhere that would lead him back to where he came from? Would he go back to that lab full of white coats no, he couldn’t keep thinking of that, he couldn’t let himself think of the atrocities that were committed against him. The tail disappeared after a moment of concentration, but he stayed where he was, too apprehensive to move. He couldn’t let himself be dragged somewhere he couldn’t escape, but… he also knew he needed someone to explain things to him. 

After debating for a few moments, Paris finally forced his feet to move from under him, walking after the woman who may have been able to help him. Anything was better than nothing. It was hard to take that first step, toward someone who could very well be working for Ryan. He had approached her, so he had to take that leap, at least once. So that’s how he found himself off the path with the woman. “I do understand,” he spoke with a tone dripping with hesitation and apprehension. “At least, I am trying to understand.” 

__

A few steps down the more secluded side street Anita stopped, partly to see if the stranger had followed and partly because if they were going to continue further out of the downtown area Paris would need to shift completely into his human form. She was pleased to see that he was, even if several feet behind her, following. “I’m Anita,” she offered, upon realizing she had never responded with the same courtesy he had offered. “It is obvious you are not used to this.” Just as she was about to go into a lecture about his tail, she looked behind him to see that it had been shifted away already. “Oh. Okay, good. So you know how do shift, yes? You just, what? Did not realize you were hauling that tail around?”

Looking up towards where they had come from, there were a few straggling onlookers who peered down the side street. Anita didn’t like how exposed everything felt. A few conversations to a few unsavory people about a strange new guy in town with a reptile tale and the local entomology professor who helped him out wouldn’t be good for either of them. “I don’t know where you were before here,” she paused as she gave him a once-over, “but to be in a town with so many humans around. You have to be careful. Did nobody teach you to be careful?” 

__ 

Her name was Anita. It was easier to hold someone accountable for their actions when he had a name to call them by. Anita. The first friendly face Paris had come across since escaping the lab. Escaping or being allowed to leave? No, he still wasn’t thinking about it. It was easier when he didn’t have to think about it. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to bring himself back to the present, back to where he wasn’t trapped in a cell where people would poke and prod and pinch and stab and– Paris suppressed a full-body shudder that threatened to overtake him. 

“I… am used to a tail. I suppose that I did not realize that it was there since I am so used to it.” Paris admitted, looking away in shame. “I know how, I simply am not used to doing it at will.” Was that too much information, would she be able to figure out his truth from one small admittance? Lie more, that same voice told him. “I do not know where I was before either,” another truth uttered from his lips, another reason he ended up the way he was. Too trusting, too curious. Dammit, dammit dammit, lie! 

“I have not seen my family in many years,” Another truth.

“They taught me, but I…” didn’t listen, he didn’t say, brows knitting together at the realization. “I will be more careful,” he spoke decisively, nodding his head. “I am not used to humans if that was not made obvious enough already.” He swallowed. “Are you like me then? Not human?” He found himself asking. It would be easier to trust if he knew the person he was speaking with suffered the same fate he did, the fate of having to be amongst humans when they were not one.

__

The pauses, the way he seemed to avoid direct eye contact, the matted knots strewn throughout his hair - the pathetic picture that it all painted said a lot but the one thing it said loudest was that none of this was an act. She had no idea where he had come from or why he was here but Anita knew that if he kept wandering around looking and acting like this that his trip to Wicked’s Rest would undoubtedly be a short one. 

“It just takes practice. Doing it at will.” Even though the crowd at the end of the street had dispersed, most of them having seen stranger things around here lately, the area was still too exposed for Antia to feel comfortable letting her own tale loose. Instead she allowed her scales to spread up across her chest and most of the way up her neck in response to his question. “Quite like you.” The scales dissipated just as quickly as they had appeared. “And I wouldn't want it any other way.”

 “This town is dangerous, moreso if you’re not used to humans. If you’re just passing through, maybe I can help you get where you’re trying to go.” Oh god, Anita thought as she wondered if the insult Siobhan had hurled at her back in Ireland was true, was she getting soft? 

_ 

As Anita revealed herself, the scales spreading up her upper body and neck, Paris’s eyes went wide with recognition. “There are more of us here?” He asked, leaning forward, eyes alight with excitement. “Zhēn de ma?” Really? This was good news, news that he hadn’t been led astray, that all those things he had heard were true, this place was a place for people like him. And if he couldn’t get back home to where he belonged, to his Mangrove in his little corner of the world, he could at least be here. That would make Dallas happy, his hatchmate who he had been closest to above all other siblings.

“I am glad to know that I am not alone in this town. There were many reasons why I shouldn’t have believed the rumors I heard.” Paris admitted, running a hand through his matted hair. “First, I need to find out how to get clothes and cut my hair,” he muttered more to himself, switching between his native tongue, English, and French. “I can do portrait art,” he then spoke, pointing to the camera that was around his neck. “I have skills, I just need to find a way to market it.” His face fell, realizing that he wouldn’t be able to succeed as he wanted to, but as a human did to make it in this world. Capitalism. 

“I appreciate your help, but I think I shall take up residence here.” He decided, nodding his head, his expression full of conviction as he stared at the woman in front of him. “I do not trust humans, I have… experiences.” His tone darkened, as did his eyes. “I have heard of this internet, do you think they will like my portraiture?” Paris then asked, changing tracks as quickly as he could, not wanting to delve into his experiences with humans. He didn’t ever want to speak of it. 

__

“What rumors?” Maybe they had been the same ones Anita had heard years ago that led her here, stories of how this placed seemed to pull in supernatural beings from all over. Even though she only understood every third word, it seemed apparent that he at least knew enough to know that he needed to make himself more presentable if he was going to get by. It, unfortunately, seemed like his plan to make money to make himself presentable involved performing a service that ultimately would require him to already be somewhat presentable for. “Yeah, photography’s a great skill. People love getting fancy photographs of themselves taken.” It was her, Anita was people. “Kinda a career you’ve gotta be on the grind for, though.” 

If he weren’t a lamia this is probably where she would have walked away. Hell, if he weren’t a shifter she probably wouldn’t have even interfered back on the street. But he was, and while Anita didn’t have a clue what ‘experiences’ he had previously had with humans, she knew enough about this town to know that desperation led to dire consequences. “Okay,” she sighed, having mentally accepted to at least get him some basic necessities. “We’re going shopping, Paris. You need shoes. In this stupid fleshy form there are lots of things that can hurt our feet.”

She took a few steps further down the street, turning back this time to make sure he followed, “Vamos, pequeño ciervo.” Paris was lucky Anita was who found him. He was lucky she was being so generous. Did he have any idea how lucky he was? “Now, why do you not know about the internet? If you are going to do photography you need to use the internet, it’s the only way anyone does anything.” 

__ 

“This town attracts all kinds,” Paris replied simply to Anita’s inquiry. He spoke as if it were obvious, as if everyone already knew it even if it weren’t the case. Paris looked down to his camera, flipping through the photos that had thankfully been kept safe, that hadn’t been deleted after all this time. It made him sentimental about home. He looked at the portraits he’d taken from earlier, how he’d been able to get here in the first place. Besides pickpocketing, he’d offered to take people’s photographs in exchange for directions. Turned out, that vain people like getting their photograph taken and providing assistance to those that seem unworthy of their time. Was Anita one such person? 

Paris shifted on his feet, then looked back up at Anita from the camera. “I can take your photograph.” He told her, showing her the work he’d done previously, all carefully shot portraits with high contrast. “I know what I am doing, despite not having a formal education.” He let go of the camera, letting the strap around his neck hold the weight of it as he decided that he could, in fact, trust another lamia. If there was anyone he could trust, it was his own kind, but no one else. Even if it was trust, it was only going so far. “Shopping?” He echoed, disdain dripping in his voice. “I have never dressed myself before.” He admitted, fidgeting with the camera strap around his neck. 

“I know of the internet, but my family kept to our mangrove, we did not trust humans.” He explained as they walked, Paris now acutely aware of the stares he was getting from strangers. He wasn’t blending in, this would attract Ryan’s attention. He had to try harder. “I can share my work on the internet?” He asked, figuring that it would be as good of an opportunity as he was going to get, all things considered. “You will teach me about this internet, yes?” He asked, leaning toward her with keen interest. 

“And shoes… human bodies truly are too fleshy for their good, aren’t they?” It was the first time since springing free of the lab that he was able to talk freely about the wonders of the world he had not yet experienced, about how he had stepped on a sharp rock earlier and it hurt like hell, something that wouldn’t have happened if he were in his true form. “I do not think I like human innovation,” Paris grumbled as they walked into a store, eyes narrowing at the choices. “Clothes are overwhelming,” he decided then and there.

__

“Yes, it does. And all kinds includes very dangerous kinds.” Some of his scars were visible, not covered by the scrubs. Anita’s eyes traveled from those scars back to meet his gaze and she simply raised up her eyebrows in a knowing way, not really wanting to breach the topic explicitly. Thankfully, the topic shifted to his photos. She looked through the ones he showed her and they were quite good. Anita loved taking photos too but never of people only of insects. “Yes, you may take my photograph. But not here. Not today. I want to do my hair differently if you’re going to take a nice photo.” Then she paused, smiling softly, “Actually, maybe you could take my photo how I truly look.” 

“That is obvious. But no worry, I will pick the shoes and the clothes. I have truly exceptional taste, you’ll see.” They were already downtown and there were a few decent boutiques nearby that would suffice for the time being - and a barbershop along the way, which was desperately needed. “My family did not trust humans either. But they taught me how to live among them instead of how to live in fear of them. They are just humans.” Anita nodded, thinking back to when she first met Metzli, thinking about all the things about society and pop culture that she had to teach them. “You will owe me many portraits, but yes, I will teach you about the internet. You’ll need to get a phone, at least. I might have an old laptop you can use until you can get one of your own.” 

Shoes were an obvious first thing that they needed to get, though. One of the three basic requirements most establishments would kick you out for not having. “Very fleshy. Very vulnerable. But there is some protection in fitting in. Rangers, those who hunt us, can't detect us when we are fleshy. So we are vulnerable but we are hidden.” Anita walked over to the wall of shoes and grabbed a stylish yet seemingly comfortable pair of white and black sneakers. “Stand on this mat here, where the footprints are, it will say what size you need for the shoes.” As he did so, she grabbed a pack of socks from the wall nearby. “Clothes are fun. But, yes, some find them overwhelming. Put these on, I’ll grab you some clothes that are comfortable but stylish. This blue is really not doing anything for you.” She handed him the socks and sneakers in what appeared to be the right size and then wandered off towards the men’s clothing racks. 

__ 

To say that Paris was overwhelmed with the fluorescent lights and hustle and bustle of the crowded store was a vast understatement. He followed Anita around like a lost little lamb, holding onto what he was given and doing as was instructed. The woman seemed to go around picking out things that worked for his color pallet, whatever that was. It was confusing and far too much, but he was grateful for the assistance all the same.

She was giving him useful information, giving him tips he’d need to not only fit in but to survive. “I appreciate your assistance,” Paris spoke with a grateful bow of his head. “I will take great photos of you, this is a promise I make.” He put on the shoes as instructed, sitting on the bench to pull them on. They were constricting and strange, but at least they would stop sharp rocks from stabbing into his feet. 

They shopping continued, from T-shirts to button-downs and slacks to jeans and pairs of socks. “I do not have a place to store these things,” he admitted, frowning. “I will need to hold onto the bags.” Paris then narrowed his eyes, looking around. “Never mind, I have an idea.” He spoke, beginning to keep tabs on an elderly couple that was shopping around the store. He would follow them home and take care of things. 

__

Anita spun around on her heels abruptly when he made her a promise, still a bit on edge following her trip to Ireland. “Don’t make promises to anyone. There are some creatures, not shifters but a species called fae, if you make a promise to them they can force you to live up to it. Just don’t say that phrase, okay?” After that warning, she shifted back to her more relaxed demeanor and proceeded to pick out a few outfits for Paris. She didn’t get too out of hand, mostly picking some basic staples so that he would have enough pieces to mix and match to get him through any given week. 

Once he had the shoes on and joined her in the racks of clothes, Anita had him try on some things to make sure that they fit. Unsurprisingly she seemed to enjoy the mini fashion show a bit more than he did. After they found enough clothes to establish a basic wardrobe they went to check out and then she handed off the bags to Paris to carry. As they were heading to leave, however, his comment about having no place made her tense up slightly as she became worried that he was about to try and ask to stay with her. Before she could even think about the possibility, or what her response might be, he thankfully seemed to have an alternative idea in mind. She followed his eyeline and smirked, “Excellent.” 

Anita checked her watch, she had a bit more time before she needed to head home for some party planning details. “Alright, there is a barber one street down and an electronic store not too far. I’ll get you a phone while you fix that mess on top of your head. After that I have to leave. I’ll put my number in the phone before I go.” She paused, not sure if it was a good idea or not but deciding to extend the invitation anyway, “I’m having a party tonight, actually. You should come.” 

__ 

Furrowing his brows at Anita’s insistence, he nodded his head. “Okay, I can… do that.” Paris frowned, still unsure as to why, but then she explained it. He didn’t want to be bound to anyone ever again, and that sounded like a sure way to get himself into trouble like the first time. Fine, no promises. He could do that. 

He enjoyed the fashion show only very little, feeling rather silly showing off these strange clothes to a woman he hardly knew. He’d have to find money for a phone, first and foremost. Then, he’d have to find a place to live. He could figure these things out rather easily. Especially with that elderly couple that was checking out and making their way out of the store. He’d follow them later. 

He nodded his head distractedly as she talked about a phone, something he’d seen the workers of the lab often on, taking calls and typing away to someone unknown. “I appreciate your assistance,” Paris spoke as she took him toward the barber where he would cut his hair to just above his shoulders, feeling instantly better the second it was removed. He’d receive the cellphone and immediately send a text to Anita, which would make him feel less alone in this big, scary world. 

And then? Then he would go to a party, whatever the hell that was, and he would stand in the corner of the room, watching the world go by with wide, terrified eyes. Yeah, it was going to take a while for Paris to finally fit in around town, but at least he had someone looking out for him.

[welcometoparis]

Timing: Current Location: A lake Parties: Paris & Wyatt (@loftylockjaw) Summary: Paris is basking on a nice rock in the middle of a lake. Turns out it's Wyatt's rock. The Lamias vibe.

“This can be our rock.”

The lake in the middle of the woods was as good a place as any to finally allow himself to relax, to be his true self without the fear of being caught. He hadn’t seen anyone out here, no houses or signs of human life. It was perfect. It was a nice, sunny day out, so Paris had taken himself out in his monitor form to bask on the large rock in the middle of the lake, where the sun beat down on his scales. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was at peace. In moments like this, he thought of his sister Sydney, of all the times she’d taken him out to her favorite basking rock in the mangrove he grew up in. 

With his eyes closed, he could almost pretend he was there, back in his home country, back in his mangrove. But he wasn’t. He was in Maine, in the United States of all places. He didn’t belong here, he didn’t belong amongst humans and their strange customs. He wanted his mangrove that the sun hit just right, kept him well heated and – footsteps. The vibrations were felt from his rock, and the lamia cracked an eye open to see… another lamia. Paris shot up to a sitting position, watching the other with wide eyes.

There wasn’t just one other lamia in this town, but two at least. “I am not taking your basking spot, am I?” He called out, scooching over to give room to the other lamia who was approaching him. “I am Paris.” He introduced, tail swishing about as the other sized him up. “I am new here, so I did not know that this was your basking rock. Hopefully, we can share instead.”

—

The tiny island in the middle of the lake was perfect for uninterrupted sunning. It was small enough that humans hadn’t settled on it, and lacked any features that the lakeside didn’t already have that would have drawn them out here for an afternoon, the isolation aside. And in the middle of the island was a massive boulder, one that created a sizable gap in the trees to allow for shadeless basking, especially midday. It was Wyatt’s favorite place to fuck off to when he wanted to be alone, which was why he was extra surprised to see someone already on top of it. He stopped dead in his tracks, breath catching in his throat. 

The other… some kind of lizard, if he had to guess, was quickly speaking. Introducing himself. Offering to… share. Wyatt remained still for a moment, then resumed his approach to the rock, a little shocked by the other’s politeness. 

New in town. Yeah, that was obvious. 

They gator hauled all eighteen feet of himself up onto the boulder, though his long tail dangled off the edge. He gave the other lamia a once-over, unsure how to proceed. He might’ve been more excited a couple of months ago, but right now, he was aching and just in need of a nice laze about in the sun. Still, he supposed there wasn’t a need to be dickish. “Paris, huh? I’m Wyatt. Live just over yonder…” He gestured vaguely in the direction from which he’d come. He could hear his mother scolding him in his head for the lackluster welcome, and he blinked and shook his head. “But… yeah. We can share.” Lowering himself onto the warm rock, Wyatt let out a low sigh. “... where’d you come from?”

—

Paris watched lazily as the other lamia climbed up onto the boulder that he’d been sunning on, having half a mind to fall back asleep, which is what he’d been doing before he’d heard the other’s approach. “Ah, I see.” He murmured as he peered in the direction that Wyatt pointed in. “I will find a new rock,” he spoke in their accented voice. 

When Wyatt asked where he came from, Paris felt something in him hesitate. Wyatt was another lamia. He was like Anita. “I don’t know anymore,” he finally said, being honest about his situation for the first time in a while. “Originally, China. But then? Japan, France, England, several parts of America…” The lamia closed his eyes and let out a deep, frustrated sigh that he’d been holding in since he first found himself in this entire mess. Years of pent-up frustration rolled off of him in waves.

“But that’s not something you want to hear about, you seem to be in your own slump,” Paris noted, eyeing the other. It was in his shoulders, the way he slumped forward a bit. It was in his tone, the way he didn’t seem to be able to be all that polite or excited. “If you want to talk about it, I can listen.” Paris decided, not wanting to make everything about him. After all, Wyatt seemed to have come out here for a reason.

—

“Quite the globetrotter,” Wyatt remarked, of course not understanding the truth of the situation. Still, it seemed to him that Paris wasn't exactly happy about those travels. That was a nugget of info that he stored for later, peeking at the other with one eye when he made a comment on Wyatt’s own… everything.

The gator sucked in a deep, rattling breath, wondering how honest he ought to be. It didn't really matter what this lamia thought in the grand scheme of things, though Wyatt found himself hoping that their kinship might soften the other’s opinion of him. It wasn't good to alienate yourself from those that stood to understand you best, and he'd already done plenty of that by running away from his family. 

“I work at a…” How did you even describe the Pit? “... place that hosts supernatural fights. As a fighter.” That might’ve been obvious by the old wounds that marred his hide. “Got matched against a friend of mine recently.” There was a long pause, the gator’s gaze wandering. “... he didn't make it.” It was far from the only thing plaguing him at present, but it was certainly the most prominent source of guilt and disquiet. “Guess I'm a little… fucked up about it.”

—

“Not by my own choice,” Paris answered in earnest, huffing as he laid his head back down onto the rock, closing his eyes. “I was something of a scientific spectacle.” It was hard to talk about, even harder to put into words the horrors he’d seen. “Our kind speaks of hunters killing us being the worst they could do. It turns out there is worse, I’ve seen it.” 

Cracking open an eye as Wyatt began to explain what had happened to him, Paris thought to his own violent tendencies, things he wasn’t sure he knew what to do with. “You have every right to feel that way.” He found himself saying after a moment of silence as he forced himself to sit up again. “But if you were in this place to fight, can you really be surprised that something of this magnitude could happen?” Paris found himself asking, looking over to the lamia who was much bulkier than he was. 

The monitor stared out at the water for a long moment, then frowned. “I escaped my situation by tearing people apart,” Paris explained. “One moment I was in control of myself, then next? I was standing in a room full of corpses. I did that.” He pointed a clawed finger to his chest, frowning. “Sometimes I fear what we are capable of when we aren’t in charge of our faculties.” His gaze found the other with a look of deep understanding. “You are not alone in your feelings of guilt.”

—

So much for not sharing, Wyatt thought as he listened to Paris describe a small bit of his past. He didn’t have words for something like that, so he just blinked slowly and shook his large head. Humans really did have the capacity to be the fucking worst, didn’t they? You didn’t see lamias experimenting on them… just… eating them. Huh. Well, who was he to comment on moral responsibility? He was as immoral as they came. 

“Sure, but I can usually reel it in,” Wyatt complained, feeling the frustration start to bubble up again. Paris was right about them not being in control—bad things happened, and apparently the source of the lack of control didn’t matter. Paris had done something similar in order to escape. Was that what Wyatt had been trying to do? He couldn’t even remember anymore. Maybe their kind was violently opposed to being controlled or held captive—it made sense in a lot of ways. But why did they have to black out for it? He cursed under his breath, lowering his head onto the rock. 

“Well, if you just killed a bunch of people that were experimenting on you, you shouldn’t feel bad,” he countered. “I killed a handler. Don’t feel bad about that. Just about my friend. He was a shifter, too. Deserved better. He was a good person.” Wyatt’s jaw scraped on the rock as he slid his head slightly to the side, away from Paris. He was very good at ruining shit for good people, wasn’t he? Maybe he shouldn’t be out on this rock with this lamia, after all. Odds were that he’d only complicate things.

—

Struggling to grasp the concept of killing a friend, Paris truly felt bad for the other. “I am sorry it happened. Losing control is a terrifying feeling.” He spoke, not knowing what else to say other than to hone in on the only aspect he could relate to. “In moments of true terror, instinct seems to overcome us and keep us alive no matter the consequence.” Paris stared down at his hands, then reached out and placed a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. “You are not alone in your struggles, never forget that. And you don’t have to leave just because you feel like a burden.” Paris stared at the other lamia before letting their hand slip from the other’s shoulder. 

“In truth, I feel like nothing but a burden to those around me,” Paris admitted with a sigh, head hanging low. “I am a lamia who has always been a lamia, not a human.” He pulled a face, thinking of the fleshy pink form he had to wear just to fit in around town. “It’s easy to put on a facade that shows that we have everything together when the reality is that we’re falling to pieces.” Paris shook his head, then rolled his eyes. “You’re allowed to be upset. You deserve to be able to talk about it.” Paris had a faraway look in his eyes as he stared out at the water, then finally looked back to Wyatt. “Even if we are strangers, we share a kinship. I will help shoulder your burden if you help shoulder mine.”

It was a risk, of course. Allowing himself to be vulnerable with someone just because they were both lamia. But Paris spent so much of his time being truly terrified of the world around him, of the people that could do him harm. To have both Anita and Wyatt, it would feel as if he wasn’t so alone. “I can never go back home,” he found himself saying. “I don’t know where home is. It wasn’t as if I could point it out on a map.” A sigh escaped him, and he looked over to Wyatt. “I need companionship, and it seems that so do you. Even if we only ever meet on this rock, let yourself be allowed to have an escape.”

—

Wyatt wasn’t really sure what Paris was asking for, other than… a friend? He must have been lonely to assume that Wyatt, just because he was a lamia, could ever be a good friend. Hadn’t he listened to the story about how Wyatt killed his friend? Everyone seemed so happy to just glance right over that when they didn’t want to face the reality of who Wyatt was. Which he probably should’ve been happy for, but at the moment, he just felt like shit. He was alone. There wasn't anyone he'd been fully honest with that had ever stayed. The sentiment Paris was expressing was nice, but Wyatt had never found it to be true. 

“If you were never a human to begin with, then why not just always be lamia?” Wyatt asked. It was something he had considered himself now and then, but there were too many things about being human that he enjoyed to leave them behind. Loneliness, he supposed, could drive Paris to try and assimilate. But some part of him was starting to wonder if that wasn't the right thing to do. Maybe they were better off lonely, since they seemed to present such a danger to those around him. Ah… that was all too philosophical for Wyatt. He just liked human music, human food, and human fucking. “But yeah, we can…” He lifted his head, looking at the water monitor. “This can be our rock.” It was half metaphor, half literal. He'd be glad to have someone in his life that understood him better, he thought. 

—

As Wyatt asked that question, Paris’s expression darkened. “Because I was taken, as I explained.” The water monitor responded, tapping a taloned finger against the rock as he stared out into space, his gaze a million miles away. “A hunter is trailing me, making sure I don’t slip up, told me I had to play human.” A hand drifted up to his neck, rubbing over the scar that lay there for all to see. “I value my life, so I play the part.” He shrugged his shoulders, then let out a frustrated sigh. 

Paris smirked at the idea of it being their rock. It was a strange thing, having not one but two other lamia in his life that could help him learn the reigns. This was important to him, having people that he could rely on, even when it seemed impossible to do so. “So when you killed this friend, what… happened? Do you remember?” Paris watched the other curiously, knowing that he didn’t remember when he’d killed all those people. “It wasn’t… just the scientists that I killed. It was also those who were locked up with me. I…” Paris blinked, voice suddenly lost for a brief moment. “I killed everyone.” 

Paris looked away for a moment, shame bubbling to the surface as he remembered how hard he had fought to keep control, the memories of the scientists egging him on to stop being such a coward. Was he a coward? Paris scratched his talons at the surface of the rock underneath him, then let out a low snarl. “I know what it feels like to feel out of control, to hurt people you did not mean.” Paris’s gaze flickered over to Wyatt, a flash of anger in his eyes disappearing as soon as he looked at the other. “You are not alone in your shame.”

—

“A hunter?” Wyatt gave a scoff, letting out a low, angry rumble. “What the hell it doin’ worryin’ ‘bout one lil’ lamia, anyway? Don't it got other shit to kill? Really got you on surveillance twenty-four-seven?” He glanced around them, knowing there was no way a human was here with them now without them knowing, but still. “Sounds like a load of crap to me, cher. Or a shit hunter, either way… someone deserves to be lunch.”

The question about Samir left a bad taste in his mouth, one of warm pennies and regret. “Got freaked out by somethin’. Sent me into a panic, I guess, and I just… blacked out. Wasn't there when it happened, couldn't stop it. Woke up in a cage.” It wasn't the first time he'd lost control of himself during a fight, though that reaction was usually brought on by the sensation that he was about to fall asleep in the ring. This had been different, he'd seen those crows and just… he didn't even know if they were real… Sucking in a sharp breath, Wyatt squeezed his eyes shut. “Startin’ to think I just ain't safe to be around, you know?”

—

Over the years, Ryan had tried so many different tactics to keep Paris in check. And in every scenario, it was clear that Paris would do whatever it took to keep his family safe. So that was Ryan’s biggest threat. “He has his ways,” was all the smaller lamia could say, eyes going far away before coming back to the present and looking over at Wyatt, expression distant. “It’s not as easy as having someone eat him, he has fail-safes, things that keep me in check. Like threatening my family.” Paris shrugged a shoulder as if trying to not let the idea of such bother him. Though, of course, it bothered him. It drove him mad.

As Wyatt told him what happened, Paris’s distant expression refocused, finding something that he could put his attention to instead of his disastrous existence. “Perhaps you’re not,” Paris replied in earnest, turning his attention to Wyatt with another simple shrug. “Perhaps you should surround yourself with people that are equally as dangerous, spare the ones that are at risk.” Paris rolled his eyes, the very idea was preposterous, but it seemed like that’s what the bigger lamia wanted to hear. “You can either learn to control yourself, or you can let the fear win.” Paris patted Wyatt’s shoulder. “I don’t think you want the fear to win.”

—

Ah. Well, that was the cost of family, he supposed. Maybe it was better that he’d cut off contact with them… he hated the idea of them being used as leverage against him. It wasn’t a good spot to be in, and Wyatt did not envy Paris’ problems, not even against his own. “Oh. That’s… I’m sorry,” he muttered, not knowing what else to say. He lowered his head again, just listening as Paris responded to his story about Samir, telling him what he damn well knew, but couldn’t find the strength to adhere to. He shouldn’t be around people he could kill, which… really, who did that leave? This was what he was bred for. Not literally, his mother had wanted him to pursue his love of music, but his cousin had seen to it that his life’s trajectory took a sharp turn for the violent. So perhaps it was what he was raised for. “Maybe not. Guess I’ll find out.” The fear might not be winning this battle, but he had a feeling it would win the war. A moment of silence passed between them, and Wyatt sighed. “Tell me about your family, Paris. Somethin’ nice. This is far too good a day for sunnin’ to be lettin’ ourselves get so down.”

[deathfavor]

@deiscension said: holding a mic out for the commentary you mentioned in the tags of your last reblog

You are opening a can of worms. A bucket in fact. But i shall take them and go fishing and chatter away to the wind. ( And break it down muse wise so ppl can skip muses they don't care about. )

POST IN QUESTION.

So by FAR, those who relate to that the strongest are Lamia, Ling Wen, and Seiroku

He Xuan and Earl are more middle

Izana is the least but not for the reasons you might think. And as a bonus I'll mention Sekhmet bc she's interesting for why she ISN'T despite being vengeful.

I'll put this under a read more because this is turning out very long, way longer than I anticipated.

LAMIA does NOT forgive. She is the epitome of resent and remember if you've done wrong to her. She WILL hate you and she WILL enjoy your suffering. In fact, she probably purposefully has made your suffering worse. Go to hell might be too nice of a way out. Why not suffer here and THEN go suffer in hell for all eternity? She'll make sure she makes you suffer more when she gets to hell too. ( She's under no illusion she'd end up anywhere else if there is an afterlife. )

LING WEN also is very vindictive. It's beating a point to a pulp but we SAW what she did with annihilating Jing Wen's existence. ( And with help from Pei Ming in the process of destroying + her terrorizing his followers. ) Ling Wen.....does not forgive. Granted, those around her never would apologize. Not really. Pei Ming and Shi Wudu are probably the only exceptions and SOLELY because she knows if they did something, it was not on purpose and their apology would be sincere. Anyone else though?? Absolutely not. They can go through the agonies of feeling their very souls destroyed and she will sit with a cold, uncaring expression even if she does greatly enjoy seeing those who've wronged her or made her suffer now suffering.

AT THE SAME TIME !! Ling Wen has a hard time with herself after book 5 (or 8 or whatever the official is listen i follow the pre-official release versions okay) but when she essentially keeps her job because......literally no one else can run the Heavenly Realm and all the paperwork and such. Truly success is a burden. But in all seriousness, especially with Pei Ming......his forgiveness to her is a bitter pill. She never wanted HIM to suffer, she even invited him to their side in the final battle just to ensure he'd be safe. He forgives her and moves past it, but I think Ling Wen has a hard time. She never hurt him, she never wanted to hurt him, but being on opposing sides was hard. Mercy & Forgiveness can be HARD to swallow. ( Tbh i can ramble forever about this but i think this makes my point. Her rejection of forgiveness also is a sword over her own head. )

SEIROKU is interesting because in general, this only applies to Bushi. He can never forgive the Bushi as a whole, as a group. A lot of this comes from his personal experience, and it cemented itself as a core part of his personality. Especially after he died and his heart was replaced with the Black Hearts that amplify desires ; his is revenge and death to all Bushi. As a whole, Seiroku will always hate Bushi. The Date clan is the EXCEPTION, not the rule. When it comes to someone who isn't a Bushi though, Seiroku can be forgiving. He's not often in a situation where he needs to, but anyone else - a farmer, a seamstress, whoever, he is more inclined to forgive. So Brittney, why is he on the strongest? Because Seiroku's held this hatred and unforgiving attitude to the Bushi for over 100 years now. He WON'T let it go, at this point, he CAN'T let that intense hatred go.

HE XUAN is in the middle because if you are important to him, he can forgive. He might remember, he might put distance, but he CAN forgive. Especially when he cares about you. It might take time, he needs to think about it and mull it over, and the person needs to put in effort to show they genuinely are apologetic and deserve his forgiveness. His forgiveness comes in incriments. The potential is there. But he DOES lean heavily towards strongly relating.

He Xuan cannot forgive the crimes against him, his family, his fiancée. All who suffered not because of their fortune, not because THEY did anything wrong, but because HE XUAN'S fate was stolen. And their fates were tied with his. In truth? This is one of the most painful and intense sources of pain from He Xuan. He could have endured prison, an agonizing death, being broke, he could have endured countless sufferings. He might have been angry, but he wouldn't have been as powerful of a ghost as he ended up becoming. But BECAUSE the fact is that all of the people he loved suffered EXCRUCIATING fates because of his fate being stolen, his anger grew into something extremely intense. It didn't JUST effect him. It affected the people he cared about most. He became entirely hellbent on revenge despite having no clues for a long time. He can never forgive Shi Wudu.

And I think a part of him will always resent Shi Qingxuan. Despite it not being SQX's fault, there's a bitterness because, theoretically, had SQX's family listened, SWD and SQX would have still lived good lives because of family wealth. He Xuan was born into extreme poverty even BEFORE the fate switching. And it's not SQX fault but how can he not suffer and subconsciously resent knowing this person having HIS fate is why those he's loved perished in horrible ways? That SQX gets to laugh and enjoy life while blissfully unaware none of it is deserved? He genuinely does intend to never cross paths again if he can help it by the end.

EARL also is heavily towards the strongly agreeing side. He is a very distrustful person as it is, everyone around him knows it. It's important; his wariness and distrust has helped keep Legion powerful and ahead of all the other gangs and groups. He's always steps ahead of everyone else for this very reason. He gives his trust to very few. And if he gives it and you break it? It's over. He will not give it again. Earl may trust in someone's SKILL or an ABILITY or TALENT, but he will not trust THEM as a person. Go to hell indeed, he's never letting them close.

There are very few exceptions to this. Horo and Zoya are primarily the only two that he could change this. Because ultimately, he cares for them more than most other things. Horo is, genuinely, what Earl cares about above all else. Above Legion, above Zoya, he might not seem like it and people might never guess it, but Earl would do anything for his little sister. He really is a good big brother like that. If she did something....Earl could forgive her. He might be upset, but he could and would forgive. And the same goes for Zoya. He is more likely to express his anger or displeasure, but there's very few things she could do that would make him not be able to forgive her. Anyone else would be very heavily dynamic dependent. Earl can trust and care a lot, but he can also turn cold and abandon it if the trust break truly is something severe. ( Something silly however he might be annoyed but not care about. He WILL remember it though if you try to prank him. Few have ever succeeded. )

IZANA KUROKAWA is the least in agreement with this, but not for the reasons you think. Simply put? Izana doesn't trust people to begin with. There are VERY, VERY, VERY few people he genuinely trusts, and even that can fluctuate with how stable his mental state it. I would say MAYBE two at most are who he trusts. So if you fuck up? It's over. Izana will ANNIHILATE you - there won't be anything left to grant forgiveness to. Izana genuinely has no comprehension for people's limits. At 12 he hurt people so bad they were permanently disabled - kids and adults - as revenge. Not to mention what Izana drove the ringleader of the group that attacked him to do. He'll send you to hell personally. He's the least in agreement solely because you wouldn't be around TO be forgiven. He doesn't want you around and no one is going to disobey him.

SEKHMET is the most interesting to me tbh. Because as a goddess, if you piss her off, she WILL curse your entire bloodline for the entire length of its existence. Changing names doesn't change your blood, it will follow you and she will make sure the curse is effective thousands of years later. She's a VERY vengeful goddess if you earn her wrath. You will pray for oblivion because everything truly will be suffering.

But Brittney, then why is she not included?

For the same reason: Because she's a goddess. If you give enough quality offerings to her, if you do great feats in her honor or attribute them to her, if you celebrate immensely, beg and plead and praise her above others - she will forgive you. Maybe not YOU, but she will remove the curse from the rest of your bloodline, so your children and grandchildren and so on will not suffer because of you. THAT is mercy from a god. If you TRULY dedicate everything to her, if you are skilled enough, she might remove a curse from you herself, turn you into a champion for her and ensure glory to you and her name. This is mercy from a god. Sekhmet's wrath is on a WHOLE different level from humans or even from someone like He Xuan's wrath, but she ultimately can be appeased and grant a god's definition of forgiveness. Remember; she is a goddess. A god and a mortal's definition of forgiveness may not be the same, but it is still forgiveness.

[syllviere]

the ruin universe | masterlist

The Ruin Universe Collection The Ruin Universe consists of a collection stand-alone stories, tied together by the relationships between characters and the new world they've all been forced to adapt to. It's not necessary to read every story, though the parallels will enhance the experience.

Bloodlines | Just Like Before | Crave (Coming Soon)

Welcome to the world of The Ruin.

It's been two years since a scientific disaster exposed the world to the lamia trait. The World Health Organization estimates that at least 60% of the population changed during those first few months. People returned from their first death free of disease and seemingly unaging with enhanced stamina, strength, and senses. The only drawback? An intense craving for human blood.

All now live in a world adapted, with lucrative markets for synthetic blood substitutes and less savory markets catering to human trade. Rumors are whispered each day of hidden human settlements spanning across the globe, of clandestine alliances between predator and prey, and of government conspiracies about what exactly caused the ruin of humanity and whether there is a way forward...or a way back.

Characters

Park Jimin | Vampire — Owner of Ardence, an upscale bar and lounge backed by Min Industries' entertainment sector, that now caters to vampyric tastes, among other things. Keeping his human girlfriend safe is his highest priority, from vampires with no control over their bloodlust and from his own rare moments of weakness. He'd do just about anything if it meant she could become a vampire too. Anything.

Min Yoongi | Vampire — One of the first to turn, Yoongi discovered early on that there existed no blood that agreed with him. He's spent the last two years a starved man, only the cruel legacy of his family and the disappearance of his best friend left to fill his days. Only recently has he found someone whose blood is unnervingly appetizing. It's kind of a miracle he hasn't killed her. Yet.

Jung Hoseok | ??? — His whereabouts are currently unknown, as are his genetic and vital status. Best friends with Yoongi since before they could walk, Hoseok would literally follow his twin flame into fire. When an unexpected discovery about the Min family dynasty threatened to break Yoongi, Hoseok was the one there to hold the pieces together. Blessed with a brilliant mind, he vowed to fix everything, no matter the cost. They could get through anything. Together.

Jeon Jungkook | Vampire — Former military special ops agent Jeon found his one and only chance at freedom thanks to the Ruin. He now works on behalf of the Company, where not much else is known about him or his shrouded past. Recently, he has conducted contractual business on behalf of the Company with one Park Jimin. He's certain his benefactor will be interested to know that not only does Mr. Park have a close relationship with Min Industries, but he also has a marked, full-blooded human housed on his property. But all information comes at a price.

Kim Taehyung | Vampire — Park Jimin's half-brother. A former investigative journalist currently employed by Min Industries' security division. He has a strange knack for tying together frayed threads of information and charming the pants off of anyone within a hundred foot radius. Married to Zahera, daughter of the police commissioner general, and boy does he consider himself a lucky bastard for it.

Kim Namjoon | Vampire

— A highly sought after attorney who specializes in both business and criminal law. Lawful neutral 85% of the time. Mainly employed by Min Industries, though he often picks up freelance cases, irrespective of conflicts of interest. Married to Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin | Vampire

— A curious man of eclectic tastes. Owner of Not What It Seams bespoke and luxury clothing store. A master tailor, sommelier, and ballistics expert. Married to Kim Namjoon.

Updated: Nov 17, 2024

[green--y]

I GOT FOUR OF THESE DONE I CAN START MY ARTFIGHT THREAD FOR 2024!

Lady Megami- @beemer0822

Ariliya- @TinyCatowl1

Smiley :)- Shroomkore!

Lamia- @P1NKM4DN3SS

More as I add them!

[re-whump]

Glass Eden - Entertainment

(next)

your pet lady-snake can have a little borrower, as a treat contains: giant/tiny (size difference), non-human whumpee (borrower and lamia/naga, both tiny), captivity, pet trope, dehumanization, forced to fight, communication barrier note: this is the same the piece posted on my other blog as "Snake Tank", but I'm moving the story over to this blog so I don't have to worry about """crossing a line"""" or whatever taglist @whumpsday

Poe

I threw myself against the glass one last, futile time as I heard the door on the far side of the study creak open. My fingers nearly brushed the lip of the prison I’d been placed in, nearly caught onto that ledge that might let me pry open the lid and make an escape. I was still in the air when I felt his eyes land on me. My fur stiffened as his heavy footsteps approached. His towering form blocked out what sunlight had filtered through the closed window as he sat at his desk.

“You quit that, now. You know you aren’t getting out. Unless you’d like to try speaking with me again?”

I turned to face him rather than wait for him to spin the jar I was sitting in. I slunk to the floor, drawing up my knees as if they could shield me from his eyes. He looked annoyed this time, rather than intrigued. I shook my head and stared at my hands. It wasn’t as if I would want him to dump me into his cold hands even if he wasn’t upset. I was bruised enough.

“I don’t have anything else to say. Sir,” I said.

He rolled his eyes.

“There's no one else!" I insisted. “It’s just me, the others ran away months ago, I’m the only one left.”

It wasn’t the truth, though by now it was close. The Copper family had moved out after Mellie reported that the master of the house was now collecting dangerous, exotic pets in his showroom. It was just the most stubborn of us left, or the most foolish.

“What to do with you, then?” the master of the house hummed.

He tapped a finger on the glass thoughtfully, right behind my head, in case I needed the reminder that my skull was no larger than the tip of his finger. I grimaced and looked back up at his face, where his wide lips twisted into a grotesque smirk. I closed my eyes as they curled back and revealed his teeth. My stomach twisted as he kept talking.

“My …friends tell me your kind is more trouble than you’re worth, more often than not. But perhaps I could get some entertainment out of you?”

“Let me go, please. I’ll leave. I won’t bother you again,” I begged.

“Oh, but I do believe you owe me, little thief. How long have you been squatting here, hm?”

I slumped and curled in on myself. I had thought maybe, just maybe, if this guy cared for a zoo of strange animals, he might have a thread of compassion hiding in his oversized heartstrings. I’d—god, I had bet my life on it, hadn’t I? And now I was going to pay up.

Entertainment.

~~~

Hecate

A hand lifted away the log that I’d been curled up under.

I flinched awkwardly at the sudden light, then rolled to face the front of my enclosure. The man liked it when I “looked” at him. I couldn’t tell if he knew I was blind or not. All my eyes told me was that there was a large, blurry shadow standing over the tank. It could’ve been a tree, for all my eyes could understand.

I knew it was him though. I could sense his blazing warmth through other means. More importantly, I could smell him.

Then, the hands. The nice hands. The man. Hugh Morton.

I smelled something else, too, something new. Another person, maybe? I listened intently for another heartbeat, another guest. I didn’t want to be shown off right now. I wanted to go back to sleep.

His hand reached back down to ruffle my hair, then run a rough finger across my scales. He rumbled something about feeding and I slumped back down to crawl back to bed. I wasn't hungry enough to want to fight and for all the good these hands did, they never killed my meals for me like the last ones did.

"Don't be so fussy, Hecate, I’m giving you a treat,” he chided. The ground shook as he flicked a finger against the glass wall. “You must get bored lying around in there all night.”

I huffed and and backed into a better position, against the side of one of my ceramic caves. I was still nursing a bite on my flank from my last meal. 

I licked the air and frowned as Hugh slid open one half of the wall. This prey was not a creature I knew. Hugh’s hands dangled a warm shadow by a long tail, then flicked it into the soil. The prey squeaked as it landed but didn’t smell like a rat or any other rodent I’d encountered before.

It did smell afraid.

It already understood it was being hunted. I didn’t like that. Scared meals fought back. I had scars to prove it.

Hugh scoffed in annoyance as the creature scrambled towards the opening in the glass. He knocked it back into the enclosure several times while I waited for a chance to strike.

“Don't make me break your legs," Hugh sighed.

The creature stopped moving. Strange. Its little heart was hot and hammering. Was it trained? Why would anyone take the time to train food? Maybe it was simply afraid of Hugh’s voice. 

I took advantage of its stillness and lunged. It turned to run in the split-second before we collided. It slammed into one of my open arms. I fumbled as it flailed, then got myself curled around it anyway.

It felt strange against my scales. Not furry. Not naked. Synthetic. Was it wrapped? Humans wrapped their food, but not mine. They used those crinkling papers. This was wrapped in something soft.

Was it clothed?

I hesitated in my confusion and the prey bit back. Something long and sharp stabbed in between two ventral scales. I flinched, hissing, and the prey slipped away. It left the sharp thing behind, but it didn’t bleed. I put a hand on the sharp thing and realized it wasn’t a tooth. It had some kind of handle. Plastic. The point was metal. Some kind of tiny knife? I swayed uncertainly and let the little creature run.

What was he feeding me?

~

Poe

It had never occurred to me that there might be peoples other than humans and my own kind living in this world. I wished I had the time to find out more about her.

The caged creature I had been placed with was, as most things were, comparatively massive. Its front was that of a vaguely humanoid woman, small, but still more than twice the size of my own top half. Her eyes were vacant and unfocussed. She was pale, fat, and lined with scars that told me she had much more experience than myself in fighting. 

The bulk of her body was what truly scared me. She was a python that trailed lazily across the near half of the terrarium. She was coiled, so I could only guess at her true length, but her girth was easy to make out. I regularly crawled through tunnels narrower than this snake, making it all too easy to understand what would happen to me. That the master of the house had returned my thumbtack seemed like a joke. I had no prayer here. This would be a cruel combination of all the worst deaths I'd been taught to fear—caught, crushed, and consumed.

As entertainment!

I wanted to refuse him the satisfaction. I let myself lie down and cry as the master of the house threw me back into the dirt with an unambiguous threat. I might as well. No one else would know to mourn me for weeks, even months.

It would turn out that my inborn will to survive was stronger than my desire to spite the host I'd lived under for so many years. I rolled out of the way, only a split second too late, as the snake woman pounced. She caught me in the crook of her elbow then shoved me into a wall of scaled muscle. The python whipped around me before I could take a breath. I barely had the space to think, never mind resist. It was sheer luck that wedged my thumbtack between two plates of her underbelly.

And it was enough. She spasmed and let go of me.

I fell forward into the dirt, coughing to refill my aching lungs. I don’t think she had left any part of me unbruised, though didn’t waste time taking inventory of my injuries.

“Hey, don’t let it get away now, girl, get up!"

I scowled up at the master of the house as I pushed onto my feet. There was nowhere for me to get away to, not while he was leering over the open door.

I didn't understand him.

I didn't understand how a thinking creature such as himself, with all his power and all his resources, would resort to blood sport for entertainment. The study I'd spent my life beneath had a beautiful library. Page after page told of the world's endless mysteries, of beauty and majesty and life for him to go out and pursue. And he would choose to spend his time watching some monster eat me alive.

I saw the snake-woman moving out of the corner of my eye. My stomach twisted at the utter silence of her movement over the dirt even before she started sliding towards me, and then it was like a switch went off in my head. Gone was higher thought, blown away by the sheer force of the ancient instinct to run.

The terrarium was full and well-decorated, with plenty of greenery both faux and alive as well as several dark spaces to hide. I doubted any would shelter me, this place had been built for her. 

I had nowhere to go and I ran and I ran and I hit the glass and I ran and there was a branch so I climbed it and I reached the ceiling and there was more glass and I turned around and there she was crawling after me and I jumped and her hand brushed my leg and I kicked and she fell  around me like an avalanche and it was over.

Her long body surrounded me and as soon as I moved, she struck. Walls of scales encased me again and this time, no tack would save me. Everything went dark.

Several seconds passed. She loosed her grip. I heard the master’s muffled voice droning through her flank. I took a breath and shuddered. Long minutes of silence passed and the knot she’d wrapped me in fell away. 

I admit I didn’t know much about snakes, but she didn’t seem to be very good at this.

I sprung to my feet, desperate to get at least a few inches between us again, but her hand wrapped around my face. She grabbed the back of my shirt’s neckline with her other hand and I thrashed as she pulled me off the ground.

Slowly, her palm pulled away from my face. She rubbed two fingers over my eyes, traced the curve of my nose, and drew a thumb across my lips. I bit down as hard as I could. She barely flinched, just wiped a little blood off on the side of my face.

“Beb?” she croaked.

Her blank eyes narrowed in concentration as her tongue flicked out of her mouth and brushed against my nose. Tasting me. Her lips twitched. I felt cold.

“No, please! Please, please, please, kill me first, please,” I cried.

She tilted her head to the side. Her tongue flickered twice more and both times I flinched. She babbled something in a tortured voice. 

“Please,” I begged. “If you can even understand me, please, just kill me before you eat me. I don’t want to suffer.” 

She frowned and hissed several times. My blood trembled through my veins. She slowly shaped her tongue around some word I did not know. She patted my head and sighed, then set me gently on the dirt beside her and slithered away.

~

Hecate

The prey had the face of a person.

The little thing was clever enough to talk, but not smart enough to understand me. They were small like a hatchling. They ran on legs like a bird. 

They screamed and cried so once Hugh gave up on watching me eat, I let the little one have some space, whatever they were.

I hoped they would come back to me. They were very warm. Like the sun, but in a person. Like food. Like Hugh.

Like this lovely little cave in the back of the tank. I curled up and burrowed into myself for a cozy rest.

I hoped they wouldn’t try to kill me while I slept.

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 3/5

Book Blurb:

"A tapestry of mysteries, myths, and machinations, all held together by a shimmering thread of love between women." —Samantha Shannon, #1 Sunday Times bestselling author of The Priory of the Orange Tree

This stunning Greek mythology–inspired sapphic fantasy blends the story of Eros and Psyche with legends of the enthralling, vampiric empousa—from the New York Times bestselling author of Lies We Sing to the Sea!

Desire binds them. Hunger compels them. Love will set them free. . . .

On the island of Zakynthos, nothing is more powerful than Desire—love itself, bottled and sold to the highest bidder by Leandros, a power-hungry descendant of the god Eros.

Eirene and her beloved twin sister, Phoebe, have always managed to escape Desire’s thrall—until Leandros’s wife dies mysteriously and he sets his sights on Phoebe. Determined to keep her sister safe, Eirene strikes a bargain with Leandros: If she can complete the four elaborate tasks he sets her, he will find another bride. But it soon becomes clear that the tasks are part of something bigger; something related to Desire and Lamia, the strange, neglected daughter Leandros keeps locked away.

Lamia knows her father hides her for her own protection, though as she and Eirene grow closer, she finds herself longing for the outside world. But the price of freedom is high, and with something deadly—something hungry—stalking the night, that price must be paid in blood. . . .

Review:

A sapphic Greek mythology inspired story that blends in Eros and Psyche with the legend of the vampiric empousa. Eirene and her beloved twin Phoebe live on the island of Zakynthos and have tried their hardest to avoid the prying eyes of Leandros, a power hungry descendant of the god Eros who has his sight on making Phoebe his next bride... only 2 days after his wife mysteriously died. Eirene will do anything to make sure her sister is not forced into this marriage... even marry Leandros herself but he demands she complete four tasks he set before her or he will take her sister as his bride instead of her. Yet the tasks get more impossible with each one and Eirene finds herself being helped by Lamia, the strange and neglected daughter of Leandros, whom he keeps locked up. Lamia and Eirene grow closer but Leandros's secrets might threaten to destroy them both and if Eirene cannot find a way to save herself and her sister, her romance with Lamia might never make it. This was definitely a unique sapphic greek mythology story and while it had some promising elements it just didn't exactly wow me in the way I was hoping it would. Its by no means a bad book, in fact its a fairly light and easy read, it just didn't particularly stand out to me. I think that this would be an enjoyable read for YA readers looking for a light sapphic romance read with a touch of Greek mythology in it. It's a light romance and the story felt a bit younger. It's an easy read and goes by at a slow pace. It's one that I think readers will enjoy if you like soft romances and adventure.

Release Date: October 1,2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and HarperCollins Children's Books | HarperCollins for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[wickedsrest-rp-archive]

Between a rock & a hard place | Group Thread

TIMING: December 5th PARTIES: Wyatt (@loftylockjaw), Metzli (@muertarte), Cassius (@singdreamchild), & Caleb (@dirtwatchman) SUMMARY: On a stroll through the cemetery, Wyatt disturbs a crystal monster from the mines, sending it into an accidental rage. Metzli, Cassius, and Caleb all happen to be in that same cemetery that night, and hurry to his aid. They beat the thing, but not without some bumps and bruises (and more) along the way. CONTENT WARNINGS: Body horror

Something big was lurking in the shadows of the cemetery, moving among the headstones. It had been a long trek out of the mines, but the creature had only one thing on its mind as it lumbered along, its crystalline body glinting in the moonlight. 

Hands in his pockets, enjoying a rare night off from the Pit and the restaurant, Wyatt thought he’d go give this Mossthorn Bog a look, wondering how much (if at all) it might remind him of home. That would be nice. On the way, he’d become distracted by the sprawling cemetery in Nightfall Grove, doing a little bit of research as he neared its open gate. Loads of missing person cases, huh? Fascinating. Feeling like he could handle whatever this cemetery tried to throw at him, the lamia boldly entered, unaware of the danger that lurked inside. It’d just be a quick loop around the place, then he’d be on his way. Nothing major. 

The beast from the mines had other plans.

It was surprisingly quiet, all things considered. It spotted the shifter from a distance, crouching low into the dirt and looking for all the world like a big, fancy boulder. Wyatt paid little mind as he walked by, hearing some sort of… commotion in the distance, and being far more intrigued by the light he could see moving between the trees and mausoleums. Was someone having a party out here? The rock was only spared a passing glance, and as if offended by his dismissal of its presence, it took a swipe at him. 

Being soft and squishy at the moment, the lamia was sent hurtling through the air. His instincts took over, sparing him any grievous damage as he shifted in the blink of an eye, shredding through the clothing he wore and sending a nine foot tall gator crashing into the tree instead of a very breakable human. Even still, the shock of the sudden impact left him rattled and he had no kind of grip on the branches, dropping back to the hard earth with a loud oof! and, more poignantly, a loud “What the fuck?!” as he stared up at the gemstone beast that’d taken a swing at him. 

“Fuck you!” Very clever, this one. The beast reared back, letting out a roar and lunging for him, forcing him to scramble out of the way. “I liked that fuckin’ shirt—” Wyatt complained, “—and I don’t like fightin’ for free! Piece of—”

There was nothing to move in Metzli’s chest, no swing of a brush or dust from a sculpture could spark any sort of joy. It reminded them of all those years with Eloy, everything coordinated perfectly so that he could retain the power he had accumulated through the years. How strange it was now though that Chuy of all people was in charge, plans of his own to extend his reign now that Eloy was gone. 

It made for a rather difficult time in Wicked’s Rest, their connections feeling more like characters in a book they could stow away for another time. Which was strange because Metzli was the expendable one, not their friends. They supposed it was better that way anyhow. Once Chuy made his move, not feeling their connections torn from them would be easier while numb. That was, of course, if Chuy allowed them to stay numb. Which he likely wouldn’t. 

Metzli sighed deeply, walking and thinking, taking a break from MuertArte in hopes of something activating within. There was nothing, much to their dismay. They were just about to give up and head back when they heard a man yelling about some shirt, followed by a roar. A fight then? Metzli’s curiosity was piqued, and they sprinted toward the sound with their knife in their hand, putting their body between some scaly humanoid thing and sharp claws. 

The razors shot into their shoulders, sending them to one knee with the amount of pressure it applied. But there was no extreme pain, just a hint of warmth that was the tiniest bit enough to feel similar to what their loved ones once caused in their chest. Metzli almost smiled then, cocking their leg up and shoving it into the gemstone beast. It was too heavy to send away like a regular opponent, but it stumbled back, granting them enough space to regard the stranger they just helped. Blood collected thickly from their wound, a black goo dripping as they asked, “Can you fight?”

Cassius hadn’t been back out to visit the cemetery since his crypt had been coated in goo. Well, not his crypt anymore. It was Lydia Hanover’s again. Still, he couldn’t help but come back out and check on it from time to time to see if there was any possible way to retrieve the items that had been stuck inside. No such luck. It was almost comical what had become of what he had learned to call home. 

He thought back to the moments he had with Inge not too long ago, where they had a heart-to-heart followed by some nefarious pacts. He thought back to the countless poems Cassius had penned within its walls, the not-so-wonderful attempt on his life from the slayer he now knew as Owen, and, of course, the return of his sire that he had long-presumed to be dead. Or at least, dead to him. 

His attention was stirred elsewhere when he heard a loud commotion coming from the mausoleums. Every instinct told him to get out of dodge and escape, but he didn’t. Instead, Cassius found his feet carrying him to the direction of the noise. That’s where he found an alligator and a familiar face. An interesting pairing, but a pairing all the same. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” He called out, brows knitting together in confusion. He spoke before he saw it. A giant purple thing hulking over them, roaring as it began to charge toward the two. “Run!” He shouted as it sped up, hurtling itself toward the lamia and Metzli. His shouting had been a terrible ideas, as it shifted its course of direction straight for him. Before he knew what had happened, Cassius had been tossed through the air as if he were nothing more than a sack of feathers. The air was knocked out of him as he was thrown against the side of a crypt. Groaning, he righted himself and looked toward the others.

It wasn't often that Caleb ventured to other graveyards to try and dig up another body or two but these days he was completely desperate. Most of his attempts at, well, murder were either thwarted or complete failures because he was gutless...a spineless, gutless, freak of nature who should have been able to kill a simple garbage human being but couldn't bring himself to do so. Which led him to scour the graveyards in the neighboring parts of town for freshly dug soil in an attempt to find something, anything that could help him stop some sort of horde from forming in Wicked's Rest. His night in Nightfall Grove was not going well. 

Shovel in hand, the zombie started to make his way back to the truck that parked in a shaded area of the cemetery when an angry roar stopped him in his tracks. “What the hell....?” Another loud roar filled the night air, Caleb taking a few tentative steps forward before stopping again. It wasn't until he heard the shouts of others that he took off running towards the voices without thinking. 

The sight that met him was one of the strangest he'd ever encountered in this town and that was saying something. Caleb was behind some sort of creature covered in or made of the crystals he'd been warning people against, running up just in time for him to see it throw a blond man into a crypt. The monster reared its head back to roar out its frustration into the night before it started toward the other two people in its path, people that seemed like they could be injured already. 

“Dammit...I'm about to do this, aren't I?” 

His feet were already moving and there was only a moment's hesitation before he gripped his shovel with both hands and swung as hard as he could at the monster in front of him, sending a small piece of crystal flying. The monster turned on him, Caleb scrambling away from it the best he could but tripping before getting far. He was on his back, shovel still in hand, when the monster grabbed him by his right foot and threw him, the zombie landing and skidding ten feet across the earth. Dust and gravel were both flying before he came to a stop, Caleb closing his eyes as it settled around him. A groan escaped and he allowed himself a split second to let the pain radiate through him before his eyes landed on the crystalline figure heading towards him once more. Once again, he was scrambling, hoping to reach the shovel laying behind him before the monster could reach him. “What is this thing?!”

Yellow, reptilian eyes went wide as someone intervened, looking very… normal. What the fuck were they doing? Before he could shout at them to get out of there, they were taking a forceful hit from the beast and… not crumpling like an accordion? Okay, so there was something there—something that became even more obvious, though still not named, as they pushed the beast away and turned to face him. 

“Ew,” he commented without thinking, gaze fixed on the thick black ooze coming from their wound. “That’s—you should get that looked at.” Oh, right. They’d asked him something. “But yeah, I can fight. S’how I make a damn livin’.” 

Hey, what’s going on? As another person entered the fray, Wyatt pulled himself to his full height and shook off the residual dizziness from slamming head-first into that tree. Why were more people showing up to get themselves killed? Lord, this was why he preferred arranged fights. Then he didn’t have to worry about anyone but himself. The creature was coming at them again until it wasn’t, now heading for loud blondie over there. Wyatt grumbled to himself, giving the person in front of him a curt nod before preparing to leap after the thing—oh. Ow. Blondie took a severe hit, sending him through the air and into the stone side of a crypt. Then there were four, and the lamia cursed aloud, watching as yet another average looking human took a swing at the crystal creature with a… shovel? Why did they have a shovel—never mind. Jesus, never mind. This was insane. 

Huffing out an exasperated breath, Wyatt looked to the person closest to him. “Gonna bite its head off,” he informed them. What is this thing?! the third stranger cried as he recuperated from being hucked just like the rest of them, but Wyatt was too busy to respond. He galloped toward the beast on all fours, leaping through the air once he got close enough and scrabbling up its side like a lizard scaling a wall. Large jaws parted as he reached its back and he lurched forward, snapping them around the monster’s neck and biting down. It wasn’t soft, of course, and while the gator’s jaws did apply a fair amount of pressure, nothing more than a few crystals broke loose. Still, he didn’t let go, trying to shake his head as violently as he could to do more damage. At the very least, it was keeping the creature from being able to see straight, holding it more or less in one spot as it tried to buck him off. 

The verbal disgust did nothing to faze the vampire, not when more people were being added to the rising battle. One of them, in fact, Metzli recognized as he was thrown roughly into stone. They tilted their head curiously, calculating what the next right thing to do would be. At least two of them were actually capable of fighting if the reptilian wasn’t lying about his job, and at the very least, Cassius had his preternatural strength, and the man with a shovel was…resourceful, to say the least.

“Bite head?” Metzli began to circle slowly around the beast, keeping an eye on its legs for its next move as they continued  to speak. “Break your teeth, may…be” And of course, conversation was the last thing the man wanted, cutting it all short as he made his first attack. Sure, Metzli hated conversation with people they didn’t know, but strategizing well was what was going to get them all out safely. Not impulsivity.

“You! With shovel!” They pointed at the man with their knife, shooing him to stand behind the beast as they circled and paced carefully, slowly filling and old role from a past they could not get away from. “Cassius, hurry and get up! Position around.” They pointed to an empty spot. “Do not get hit again.” The man had a good hold, that much was evident. Metzli thought perhaps they could use that time to properly set up the battle, surround the creature so that it could not focus on more than one opponent all the time. It was a common tactic they used with Los Sombras, albeit with a large crowd of humans, but the tactic was still a good one. 

“And you!” Yelling at the crunching stranger, Metzli watched the formation take shape, a blindspot needing to be filled. “Let go and help surround! Attack one at a time!” It would give everyone a short reprieve to gather their wits about them before their next attack, and it would benefit them all to be able to have eyes on each other. “Once we know attack pattern and weakness, we arc and push—” They were interrupted, dodging a sweep to their body. “Then kill. Together. Okay?” As they waited for any form of agreement, Metzli tossed their knife toward Cassius. They had a spare anyway.

Hearing Metzli’s call to get himself off the ground, Cassius groaned and hoisted himself up off the ground, dusting off his pants as if it mattered in a moment like this. He cast a glance over to Metzli, then nodded his head once. He ran over to the spot that they had pointed out for them to stand in, focusing his attention on the giant rock monster. Man, the thing was huge, it had to have come from the tunnels, right? He narrowed his eyes and frowned as he thought to himself. 

For a moment, he was glad Metzli was there to organize everyone, they seemed to be good at it. Cassius only knew that he’d get his ass kicked if it had been up to him. At least this way, they had a chance of taking this thing down. 

He tore his gaze away from the monster long enough to look at the others in the group. A gator, who seemed to be able to understand human speech, which led Cassius to believe they were some kind of shapeshifter. Naturally, in a town like this. He then looked at the man with the shovel. Well, it was definitely a choice.A man with a shovel in a graveyard… hm. Cassius kept his eyes narrowed at Wyatt for a moment longer gefore turning his attention back to the rock monster. 

It let out a creaking groan as Metzli dodged their sweeping attack. Cassius quickly grabbed the knife that was tossed his way, and jumped backward with uncanny speed as the monster brought its fist down to where he had been standing. He began to study its moves. So far, sweeping and smashing seemed to be his hits of choice. Okay, he could work with that. He glanced in Metzli’s direction for a moment, waiting for them to give some kind of order, then turned his attention back to the monster, waiting for its next move.

All Caleb could do was stare as the reptilian creature started to scale the crystal giant, his movements slowing to a stop and his mouth hanging open. He'd seen some things in his life but watching a gator tear little pieces of crystal off of a monster made of the stuff took the cake. Wicked's Rest just got weirder by the day. It wasn't until he heard someone shouting at him that his attention was torn away from the battle in front of him. If there was anything Caleb could do correctly, he could follow directions so the zombie gingerly got to his feet before taking his stance behind the creature as he was told. This person seemed to know what they were doing, Caleb all too happy to be a soldier following their leadership. 

Even if he was a little terrified, an emotion he tried to mask while he grasped the shovel tightly. It wouldn't do anyone any good for his fear to be on display while they were trying to get rid of whatever this thing was. He could freak out later. 

As Caleb waited for his next command, a little piece of crystal that had been torn away from the monster  by the reptile came flying towards him. The zombie tried to sidestep it but the smaller piece seemed to develop a mind of its own and somehow gripped his arm, clambering up almost the same way the alligator had done to the much larger monster. “Oh, hell no.” He quickly pushed the smaller rock off of him with as much force as he could muster, the thing landing with a thud in the dirt and breaking into two more pieces. Caleb wasted no time and brought this shovel down hard onto both of them, smashing them up as much as he could until they stopped moving on their own. 

“This might make things a little harder.” Caleb turned back to face the person who had given him the earlier command while still keeping the larger monster in the corner of his questioning eyes. “I can take on the little ones while you all keep tearing away at him?”

Wyatt wasn’t used to working as a team. In fact, he’d never done it once in his life. As such, he almost ignored the commands that were being shouted back and forth, zeroing in on the enemy and having little room for consideration of anything else. Still… it wasn’t the cheer of a crowd and eventually the gator did come back to his senses, realizing with some delay that the first one to show up had told him to get down and help them surround it. He growled and hissed as he begrudgingly loosened his grip on the creature’s neck, sliding down its back with claws hooked to break away as many small bits as he could on the way down. They rained to the dirt and grass below, and looking up just in time to see—hang on, the guy with the shovel was Caleb? The lamia scoffed as he watched Caleb smashing some smaller pieces of crystal to bits with his shovel. “What are you—” before he could finish asking, the smaller pieces that he’d dislodged during his dismount were springing to life and running right at him. 

Wyatt did not like small critters, he oftentimes felt creeped out by them or like he might crush them if he looked at them wrong, and these miniature abominations were the cherries on top of that particular slice of pie. “Oh, fuck!” he yelped, gaze darting between the little army of nuggets that were only a few steps away and the big motherfucker that was whipping around to try and take a bite out of him, understandably pissed about the whole chomping and gouging thing. Wyatt hunkered down onto all fours again to leap out of the way of the smaller rocks while taking a swipe at the big guy’s head, hooking it by the jaw and dragging its head down close to the ground. Another, much faster bite was delivered—ow—and then the gator released it again to back away, heading for Caleb this time, with his trusty shovel, apparently. “Can you smash those for me I do not like them,” he rattled off quickly as he tried to move back into position without the little fuckers attaching themselves to his scales. 

Everyone was capable, it seemed, but there was still a disconnect in each of their skills. Two were more apt for smaller, weaker foe, while the other two had experience with opponents of the monster’s size, or even just fighting in general. The plan had to shift if they were going to make it out alive and in one piece. Begrudgingly, Metzli decided to call for a separation, deeming the shovel and Cassius’s strength and knife to be suited well for the little rocks. 

Or were they gems? Cass would be upset if Metzli couldn’t differentiate them. Maybe they could ask her later—they shook their head, refocusing on the matter at hand. “Divide!” They exclaimed, lunging forward to sink their knife into the creature’s blindspot. With considerable force, Metzli tugged and dragged, leaving a gaping wound just before clarifying their instructions, in agreement with Wyatt. “He is right! Cassius and Caleb! Attack small things. Me and him will keep this thing—” A gem creature screeched as it pounced toward Metzli, and they reacted quickly enough to punch it straight to the ground. “Busy!” They finally finished, turning back to the beast and trusting the other two to take their plan into more than just consideration.

“You are a good fighter,” They said in a small break in the chaos. The large creature roared and swiped, just barely missing the two in the midst of Metzli explaining next steps. “We attack in pattern, yes?” Another swipe, and another dodge. “Be on opposite and attack only when other is retreated. It will come to defense and leave itself open for attack when it goes after one of us. Have sense?” There wasn’t much time to allow for a verbal agreement, so Metzli had to trust that Wyatt would listen just as he did before. Even if he was slow to do so last time. They groaned to themself, pushing away the thought and instead opting to trust him to collaborate. Everyone seemed smart enough to listen. Metzli just hoped they were all strong enough to survive.

Letting out a withering sigh, Cassius turned his attention to the smaller crystals that were breaking off and forming sentience around him. This was something out of some comedic horror writer’s wet dream and he wasn’t appreciating it very much, thanks. He let out an indignant scoff before having a flashback to his experience with the fury a few months back. “Wait, I… those creepy things from the mines,” he began to explain, trying to remember what they looked like. “They had geodes for faces, one of them attacked myself and someone else, they had these venom sacks that melted the crystals.” He looked to where the entrance of the mines were, and frowned. It would be a gamble to find one of them right now, but it was something at least. 

“It could stop us from having to deal with breaking off a million tiny rock monsters?” He then added, stomping a crystalline miniature hellion into the earth with his Doc Marten. A blonde strand of hair got in his eyes, and he blew it away with an annoyed face, then stomped into another mini crystal creature with his left boot. This would be embarrassing for someone to witness if it wasn’t a life or death situation. Another strand of hair flew into his face, and this time it pissed him off enough to quickly throw his hair into a quick messy knot on the top of his head. 

A group of the crystal miniatures jumped up onto his pant legs, and began to do their little tiny punches into his thigh. “This is more annoying than painful,” he muttered to himself as he chanced a glance behind him at the giant creature that Metzli and Wyatt were currently keeping occupied. The more damage it did, the angier it seemed to become, letting out a creaking groan that sounded more like earth settling more than it did a cry of pain or anger. He began to pluck the little crystal things off of his pants and crushed them in his hands as if they were nothing to him. 

The tiny pieces were starting to become a hassle, Caleb doing his best to smash them as they came barreling towards him with each blow to the much larger version of themselves. They were easy enough to take on but too many of them could prove disastrous, especially since he didn't know what damage they could cause. He'd learned a long time ago not to underestimate even the smallest of creatures. Busy trying to shake off another tiny monster that crawled up his leg, the zombie's attention was momentarily caught by the gator creature, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when it trailed off during it's question. Somehow the voice sounded familiar but he didn't have time to ponder too much before a group of the smaller crystals started to come at them, two of which joined their hellian sibling latched onto Caleb's clothes. These little things were persistent.

Voices were heard while he knocked the three off of him, stomping them out one by one, but he couldn't quite focus on what they were saying while he kept an eye on the giant thing looming over them all. One was speaking about splitting up, another about something in the mines, so Caleb decided his best course of action was to continue with what he was doing. Maybe he could distract the little ones while the tall blond (Who he assumed was Cassius after hearing the names called) went after what they needed.

It was the accent that sparked Caleb's memory as the gator ran towards him with the request, blue eyes widening when he realized who this could be. He'd never heard it from anyone else in this town and the odds of two of them around here were slim. But they were trying to fight a monster the size of a bus that spawned more with every hit it took. This was no time for the many questions forming in his mind. Nodding at the request, Caleb reared the shovel back before smacking the creatures with the curved edge to send them skittering a yard or so away. “Go, I have them.” He turned to look at Cassius. “You too, I can take care of these.”

Giving Caleb an appreciative nod, Wyatt circled around the beast to where Metzli was to draw it away from the other two. Cassius was saying something about a mine monster, and… huh. That did sound better than biting this thing until his fangs started falling out. “Think you can lead one out here?” he shouted to the blonde while Metzli punched the fucking thing to the ground (what the fuck), then gave them a reptilian grin in response to their compliment. “Same could be said of you!” he answered. “But—opposites, pattern. Got it!” Ducking out the way again to take up position behind the cranky rock, doing as instructed and waiting to jump on the thing’s back and do as much damage as quickly as he could before hopping back down and drawing its attention his way, leaving it open to attack from Metzli.

Casting a concerned glance over in Caleb’s direction, the gator let out a loud hiss to get his attention. “Hey, you doin’ alright over there with your shovel, sport?” His tone sounded… affectionately teasing, and the shit-eating grin he was wearing was lost somewhere in translation—alligator jaws weren’t particularly expressive, after all. 

There was a clear crack that shot up a hint of warmth up Metzli’s arm. It was the most they felt in weeks, shooting their pupils into large saucers like some sort of high. They smiled lightly, turning in time to watch Wyatt dodge and compliment, agreeing a lot easier than before. 

With the beast open for attack thanks to the shifter, Metzli pounced. They found purchase on a few gems, cocking their arm back and plunging their knife into it over and over again. Its maw snapped and snarled, poorly attempting to rid itself of the tick on its side. Metzli granted its wish and leapt back to allow Wyatt to make his move, only to be swiped at mid-air. 

The pain that surged throughout their body as they made impact with the ground was enough to force a huff of laughter to escape them. But the claws in their chest? That only served to strengthen the feeling, allowing it to bloom into adrenaline throughout their veins. Metzli laughed, truly laughed, and placed their feet against its chest to keep it from causing any more damage while they waited for help. It worked, for the most part, but if no one charged in soon, they were sure they’d be unable to continue helping.

Once he got the go ahead from Caleb, Cassius took off toward the entrance of the cave. Luckily for him, the commotion had brought out more than one volmugger to the entrance. They skittered about on all fours, their geode faces snapping to attention the second that he stepped close enough. There were three of them in total. For a brief moment, he thought that maybe that three was too many to handle. He wasn’t going to go down like this, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else get exposed to the damn things. With a intake of breath, Cassius rushed toward the closest creature, stabbing it in the middle of its geode, rendering the venom sack behind its non-face completely useless. The acid leaked out onto the knife, beginning to eat away at it. He pulled it out quickly, the liquid dripping down his hand and burning away his skin, exposing bone and muscle tendons.

Grimacing at the pain, Cassius lept backward as the second creature made an eerie clicking sound, then acid sprayed in an arc toward him. It got his chest, burning away the clothes and flesh, exposing more muscle and bone. Black blood bubbled to the surface, and he had no choice but to ignore the pain that seared through him. 

The last two creatures clicked at him and sprayed their acid, and this time he rolled away in the knick of time. It eroded the stone where he once stood, leaving bubbling acid in its place. The blood trickled down his chest, and he chanced a glance down at it. His shirt was ruined, and there was no way that wouldn’t leave a temporary scar. It went through the carnation tattoo that he had, and he cursed under his breath. How the hell was he going to explain that to the tattoo artist? 

Cassius didn’t have time to think, the third creature clicked and sprayed its acid at his face, and lunged toward the second and grabbed its head and pulled, a horrible ripping of bone and tendon cut through the silent night as he ripped its head clean from its body. The body fell to the ground lifeless, and he had secured what he was after. The last remaining creature charged at him, and he dropped the geode-like head quickly, the acid spraying onto his legs. It splashed everywhere, achieving the same effect it had on the rest of his body. Wasting no time, he ripped into the creatures chest and tore it apart, rending flesh from bone, terrible ripping and squelching sounds as he crushed its organs in his hands. 

In a swift motion, Cassius tore another head from its body, then plucked up the other head he had discarded in the earth. With clothes and flesh sufficiently burned away, he ran limped back toward the group. “Catch!” He shouted to Metzli, then threw the geode-like head toward the other vampire. “It sprays an acid, it eats away at the rock!” He explained, then rushed over to the small pieces that were forming tiny creatures and tore out the sac from the center of the skull. He squeezed on it and it began to leak. The blonde made quick work of spraying the liquid onto the smaller crystal structures, which began to melt away entirely. 

With Cassius gone, Caleb was almost overrun with the little pieces taking on a life of their own, most of them turning their tiny fury on the pale man churning them to dust with loud blows of the metal stomping them into the ground. Three more were already up his legs with one the size of his head having made it to Caleb’s waste. They were going for his arms, probably to stop him from using the shovel against them. The sound of Wyatt’s voice brought him back to the bigger fight at hand, Caleb questioning how the man could still sound like he was flirting in the middle of this. “Since when am I ‘sport’ to you? I like firebug better.” 

The larger of the broken pieces suddenly clamped its jaw down on Caleb’s wrist, making it clear that these bastards were definitely going for his hands as a sharp end of crystal sunk into his skin and hit bone, drawing up that tell tale black goo. “Shit!” He jerked his hand away and shook his wrist with force, sending the crystal flying only for it to come running back towards him as soon as it landed on its feet. Caleb swiped at it, the end of the shovel splitting through it before he stomped both pieces out with his boot. “Yea, I’m doing great. But I think they have it worse.” Head jerking towards the person being held in place by the monster, he raised an eyebrow as Cassius came running back looking worse for wear. “Or him.”

“You’re right, I don’t know why the fuck I said that,” the lamia laughed, putting a pin in the thought that they were going to probably have to have a conversation at some point about… all of whatever the fuck was going on here. Which… it wasn’t going terribly, all things considered. It wasn’t great though, and Wyatt was left to duck his head and charge at the beast pinning Metzli to the ground. The first hit rocked it in place but didn’t quite do the trick, and the gator bellowed angrily as he backed up to try again. “Fuck off, Mount Rushmore!” Bodyslamming the beast a second time managed to topple it over, just in time for Cassius to come back from the mines, apparently.

Looking like absolute shit. 

Wyatt held out a scaly, clawed hand to Metzli to pull them to their feet, balking at the sight of the blonde. He threw something their way, which Metzli handily caught. “Dude, you look fuckin’ rough,” he half exclaimed, half laughed, hoping that it wasn’t a future for all of them. It could be, if what he said about the acid was true. Blinking back at Metzli, Wyatt stepped out of the way, giving them plenty of space to spray the big rocky fucker that was getting back to its feet. “All you, friend,” he hissed.

Metzli’s eyes were wide and a bit wild from all the sensations they’d managed to develop. It was a rush, leaving them feral to continue, but they knew that they needed to remain at least somewhat composed if they all wanted to defeat the beast. Even if their mouth was watering at the mere thought of a meal. No, they shook their head, squeezing their eyes shut tightly until they saw stars. It did well to refocus them, and they sheathed their blade in order to grasp the geode in their hand.

“Thank you,” they replied calmly, just barely dodging a swipe from the monster with a roll to the ground. Landing on one knee, Metzli took aim and smiled with satisfaction as the acid began to coat the grisly thing with enough to send it screeching viscerally. Que suerte, they thought, rising to their feet to watch and analyze. It thrashed backwards, trying its best to get away from the thing that caused it pain. “You next.” Metzli said, tossing the geode over to Caleb like some game of hot tomato. Or whatever game that Cass tried to explain to them. 

Waving off the comments that were thrown Cassius’s way by the gator man, quickly side stepping monster’s attempts at swiping. His hand reached for the acid sac and grimaced, continuing to spray the vile liquid onto the smaller pieces that had gained sentience. As they melted away, the giant monstrosity turned its attention onto the blonde vampire. It let out a roar as it changed its path, zeroing in on Cassius and smashing down on him. 

As soon as the crystal arm came down, Cassius fell out of the way as quick as he could. The stone came crashing down onto his lower leg, eliciting a cry from the vampire. The geode head he held in his hands tumbled out of his hold and toward Wyatt, leaving Cassius to scoot out of the way of the monster. He rolled onto his hands and knees, wincing at the pain that came with it. Ignoring the pain best he could, he hopped up onto his good leg, hobbling away from the large monster and toward Caleb and his shovel. The acid that Metzli had sprayed onto the monster was starting to eat away at the creature, crystal bubbling away to nothingness.

Slamming his foot down on one of the last of the little monsters, Caleb looked up just in time to see the geode head flying towards him. “Wait!” But there was no stopping them, it was too late. He dropped the shovel to catch the thing, his numb fingers fumbling to keep his hold firm. It almost slipped fully from his grasp until he was able to tighten his hold, accidentally squeezing some of the acid onto his shirt which burned through to the skin of his abdomen. Teeth gnashed against his bottom lip when the pain radiated through him, his focus on the battle lost. There was something building inside of Caleb, something that terrified him more than anything, but he did his best to bring his sights back to the problem at hand. 

Pointing the head towards the monster that was still being eaten away, he squeezed again, much harder this time while strength started to intensify. The acid sprayed over the side of the monster that was now facing the empty space where Cassius had been standing with its head swiveling around to try and take in all of the enemies surrounding it. Its arm was quickly covered, the limb starting to melt away. “Metzli!” The name was growled as Caleb tossed the head back to them so he could assist Cassius in getting away from the thing. He moved to the man’s side to wrap an arm around his waist and support his weight so Cassius could walk better. “Really are trying to outshine us, aren’t you? Let’s get you away from this thing before it tears an arm off or something.”

Staring down at the head that’d rolled in his direction, Wyatt groaned. “Aw, man. Seriously? Like… seriously??” He glanced around—everyone else was otherwise preoccupied with taking the creature and its little fuck off minions down, and the acid really seemed to be doing the trick. “Fuck me,” he growled, reaching down to grab the head with a grimace. “So gross.” Sticking a clawed hand into the weird creature’s… skull—if you could call it that—the gator sprinted toward their larger foe and gave the sac a mighty squeeze (ew), holding it in front of him like a water hose. Kind of a sad water hose, but at least the liquid did excellent work in small quantities. 

He sprayed all down the thing’s side and it shuddered and groaned, collapsing to the ground. It wasn’t dead yet, however dead a thing made of gems could be, but it wasn’t moving fast anymore. Wyatt kept this up until the volmugger dome stopped giving, then spiked it on the ground like a football. “Take that, Kilimanjaro!! Hell yeah!” Now properly pumped again, the lamia leaped forward and clamped down on one of the legs that hadn’t been touched by acid yet, biting as hard as he could stand and thrashing his head around until it broke free, then hucking it over toward Metzli, who had the last of the acid. 

The familiar sound of teeth chattering almost caused Metzli to abandon everything, a longing in their mind building and completely convinced that the source was a ghost that’d returned to life. But when their eyes landed on what they hoped would be Honey, it was just Caleb, a stranger tossing the geode back toward Wyatt. Zombie then, Metzli surmised, watching the scene halfheartedly when they should’ve been helping Cassius, or really, anyone. What would she make of their state? She would know what to do, would go through hordes of vampires with them if it meant they’d be free again, but that didn’t matter at the moment. 

They turned their attention back to the screeching monster, its wails of agony piercing through the space and echoing around them all. Metzli stayed where they were for a moment, staring at the leg that had been thrown toward them by a much-too-energetic Wyatt. At least someone was having fun, they supposed, pulling out their knife again as they limped somewhat confidently over to the beast that was now too sad to really continue. 

Death should be swift if one could grant it, as Honey would say. It was the respectful thing to do, and they’d honor her by thrusting their knife into the creature’s throat and severing its head as much as they could. Viscera and sinew dangled lamely with its head, body slowly going still. Blood and acid mixed together and sizzled against flesh, but Metzli hardly minded (especially not when it allowed them to feel). Caleb and Cassius already had both their clothes and skin effectively ruined, and a job needed to be done, so they’d be a good sport about it and join them. “Think it is dead,” they droned, backing away and tilting their head eerily as they studied its death.

Thankful for the assistance from Caleb, Cassius nodded his head in thanks. “I seem to be exceptional at getting myself hurt,” he grumbled to himself, wincing as he put weight onto his bad leg. Before they could get away from the fray, the monster fell to the ground. Cassius let out a sigh of relief as Metzli declared it dead. “The fuck was it?” He asked as the two of them hobbled towards both Metzli and Wyatt. “Everyone alright?” He then asked, hoping that he had gotten the brunt of the damage instead of someone else. He was thankful he had a connection in his back pocket when it came to getting medical attention. 

Studying the half-melted crystal monster, Cassius’s frown deepened. “Glad we were all here before it got to a populated area.” He looked around the cemetery, there were smashed headstones strewn about, but that was better than innocent people being killed by the thing. “Do we just… leave it here?” His brows furrowed together, unsure what to make of the situation now that the imminent threat had been dealt with.

It was quite the scene really, a giant alligator and three people all messed up standing around a melting giant rock monster in the middle of a graveyard with geode heads at their feet. His face contorted with disgust when he and Cassius got closer, Caleb hardly believing that he’d been involved at all, much less had one of those heads in hand. He gently kicked at one as Cassius spoke. Yea, that was gross. “It looks like a larger version of the crystals growing out of the ground but at least those don’t move.” And thank god it didn’t seem to affect them like the smaller ones did. That could have been an even bigger disaster if Wyatt had suddenly lost himself to the thing with all the blows he’d dealt by teeth. 

With that thought, Caleb looked over towards the alligator but didn’t move towards him. It was safer to keep his distance with his body trying to heal itself. Besides, Cassius still needed some help. “I don’t know if it’s safe to leave it out here…will the acid spread and melt the whole thing?” It seemed to still be bubbling in areas, eliciting another noise of disgust from the zombie. “That’s really gross.”

“Peachy. Not a scratch.” Well, that might’ve not been true, but who had time for splitting hairs right now? Sucking in a deep breath to calm his wired nerves, the lamia lowered himself into a squat near the beast, claws digging into dirt as he leaned over to give it a closer look. Yeah… would have been a shame if it’d reached whatever party was going on deeper in the graveyard. Which… he might have to check out, actually. He deserved it. But first… they had a point, they couldn’t really just leave it here. Damnit. Wyatt glanced around them, yellow eyes squinted. “I mean, it’s a graveyard, yeah? People bury shit here. Let’s just… bury it?” His gaze danced from Metzli to Cassius and then to Caleb, who wielded the shovel. 

Digging a grave for something this big would take the poor man all night. 

With a snort, the gator lifted his tail and started to dig with his hands, raking the earth between his legs. “Not a word from any of ya,” he warned, thankful that at least this spot in particular seemed to be free of coffins. Well, mostly. He had to change course once or twice, but managed to claw out a hole big enough for what remained of the crystal creature in a fraction of the time it would’ve taken someone with human tools. Then came the pushing of the beast, which had them all lined up on one side of it, heaving with all their might. 

As they threw the dirt back over the top of it and filled in the hole, Wyatt leaned over to Caleb, speaking in a low voice. “So, uh… surprise, firebug! Not exactly how I wanted you to find out.” If at all. “I’d ask about the shovel, but…” He smirked, at least as much as an alligator could. “We can chat later.” 

Metzli shrugged at both of Cassius’s questions, still staring at the dead and deflated beast as it continued to sizzle. Their whole body felt similar, a warm haze humming across the top of their skin. It was subtle and consistent, a welcome sensation by all accounts. They looked around at everyone and then at themself, self-preservation obvious in everyone but them, but there was no time for Metzli to linger on the thought when Wyatt spoke. 

“Peach…y?” It was a strange term, and no fruit was around to logically generate such a response. But then that didn’t matter either. Wyatt began to dig in a sacred place, with no care as to the respect the place demanded and deserved. Metzli opened their mouth to object, but it quickly shut as a tugging encompassed their entire head. Eyes went blank, a desire to head to another graveyard overcoming them. Their legs moved before anything else could be commented on. It was like Wyatt had said anyway. They could all chat later.

Grateful that he had fed before the whole encounter, the Cassius already started to feel his wounds healing. Of course they wouldn’t heal instantly, but it would be enough for him to be able to walk on his own without aid from a stranger. He nodded his head toward Wyatt, who claimed he was all good. Good. At least he was the only one that got himself hurt. He could live with that outcome.

Then, Cassius all but blinked as the alligator man began to dig like his life depended on it. He slowly hobbled away from Caleb, giving him a thankful nod, but he had it from here. He watched as Metzli walked off, and he shrugged a shoulder. Guess it was time to get back to the hotel for the night and hope that this whole situation was just one giant weird dream. But knowing the town, it probably wasn’t. “Good luck with all that,” he murmured toward the alligator before walking toward the entrance of the cemetery. Yeah, Cassius was definitely done living in cemeteries for good. 

The sight of Wyatt digging a hole would have sent Caleb into a laughing fit on any normal night. It seemed like the best reaction, right? Fighting a giant crystal monster with three other people and then watching a large alligator dig a hole to bury it was something out of some supernatural parody show meant to terrify and amuse. Instead, all he did was watch with interest, smiling softly while his thoughts kept flicking between a meal and the chef and the two other…were they undead like him? They were both wounded and still upright, Cassius even walking better after a short amount of time. Had to be undead. He wasn’t going to ask outright though and they were both walking away after the beast was buried before he could think anymore on it anyway, almost as if they saw this type of thing everyday.

Looking back at Wyatt, Caleb took a step away from the gator and grabbed the shovel off the ground, still marveling at how the charm the man possessed was coming through even in this form. “We definitely have a lot to talk about.” But he kept slowly walking backwards in the general direction of his truck, not willing to get close just in case. Even if he was in control of himself right now and could push the thoughts of hunger away Caleb didn’t quite trust himself to keep it that way. “I can’t stay here right now though. It’s best for both of us.” The zombie lifted his hand in a small wave and then, without explanation, turned on his heel, quickening his pace to get far away. He’d call Wyatt later, maybe even look for the other two undead to talk further. For now, he needed to get home and feed before the town had a different monster on its hands.

[goldenthreadstories]

[ lil witchy sketch of Qrow. I love him so much guys ]

[angerworn]

------so the plan , as i've thought about it during work , is eventually to have a blog for each muse in morgan's universe . i need to name the universe officially but it will include some affiliated characters from pals that have shown an interest and either want to make their own muse off of the lore , or have a verse for it .

morgan and lee will have their own carrd because they're already made . everyone else will be on a compendium sort of carrd which will have individual information based off of the actual muse themselves . each blog will be a solo blog because i know if i made a multi muse i'd see tumblr just choose to interact with the man - presenting muses because dick - chasing and that would piss me off . i love ships as much as the next person , but all of these muses are literally years old and deserve a chance at being written with .

currently slated as muses to be created are :

clarity hollis - a vampire mercenary , and her brother will be a guest on her blog

esmé everhart - a human gun runner , kingpin of the black market . his mother was a witch , and a good portion of his clientele are preternatural creatures

rider lorne - a witch ( specializing in necromancy and blood magic ) who runs an occult shop

lucien bello - an incubus who owns a no - touch gentleman's club , which doubles as a front for his black market fencing business

aleera "anaís valdez" - a upir , one of the former brides of dracula

moira osbourne - a shapeshifter who believes she is the reincarnation of muninn

aymeric xandros - a lamia , basilisk variant , whose a rather successful architect

letha righton - a changeling hunter who has no idea she's actually a fae

these muses will come slowly and over time and i plan on rotating through who i write pending who i have energy and muse for . currently only lee and morgan have blogs .

lastly , you can spot affiliated muses speckled throughout and i'll give them shout outs as they prop up more and more . currently we have @wyrdfractures with silas hale ( muse ) , @thirt13n with sylvi karsten ( verse ) , @medicbled with gloria de lima ( verse ) , and @intombed is currently making a muse .

I AM NOT ABANDONING MORGAN . i am working on things behind the scenes and shuffling around on my end . lee has more muse in my head currently but this is how it's gonna roll with a rotation of muses as i work to establish them . threads will be responded to !

[poisonousdelights]

TIMING: Mid-December, directly after this thread. LOCATION: Wicked’s Rest Hospital PARTIES: @poisonousdelights and @realmackross SUMMARY: The hospital should be a safe place, right? Tell that to Mack and Isa. CONTENT WARNINGS: Unsanitary tw

Winter was safe. Yeah, she was going to be in a world of pain for several months, but she was alive. And though it wasn’t exactly what Mackenzie had had in mind when she wanted to talk things out, at least they had been able to. Able to put differences aside and discuss what had happened and why her friend had gone missing for so long. But now, all Mackenzie wanted to do was go home, take a nice hot bath and nurse her own wounds. Sleep would probably come tonight, and she was gladly going to welcome it.

Stepping off the elevator, Mack headed towards the front door of the hospital. As the sliding doors parted and the sun hit her face, she knew with a few good hours of daylight left, at least the drive back to Harborside would be relaxing. Some peace in a day filled with unwanted excitement, but as soon as she made her way out of the building and onto the sidewalk headed towards her car, the unexpected happened.

It was quiet in its attack. Sharp talons coming down and digging into Mackenzie’s shoulders, before briefly lifting her off the ground. Whatever this predatory birdlike creature was that was attacking the zombie, left her kicking and squirming until she felt the talons pull out of her shoulders taking along bits of dead flesh with it. And soon she was on her knees trying to scramble to her feet for safety, but not until the massive bird swooped back down and sank its large fang filled beak into her back taking a chunk with it leaving her screaming out in pain and praying that someone was around to help.

Deersprings wasn’t Isa’s usual haunt but ever since the gingerbread houses had shown up she’d been making excuses to be in that part of town.It was her day off, it was still cold but the sun was out and she didn’t want to be stuck inside her depressing apartment for any longer than she had to be so a jog in her new favorite part of town seemed to be such a good idea when she was deciding what to do that morning. It would have been had she not been completely interrupted halfway through by what she could only describe as a monster attack.

It was hard to miss the gigantic flying thing swooping towards the back end of the hospital parking lot as she passed, the lamia slowing her steps until she made it to a standstill. It was struggling with something on the ground for a second before Isa heard the scream, her feet catapulting her toward the sound without a moment’s hesitation. She came upon the giant bird attacking a woman and her eyes widened when she realized it had already caused extensive damage to this person as it went in on her for a third time.

Oh, god, what could she do? She needed a distraction to get the bird away from her but her mind was drawing a blank until her frantic gaze landed on a considerably large piece of pavement that had been separated from one of the curbs. Isa wrapped her hand around it the best she could before hurtling it towards the bird…and barely skimming the things talon. She watched in horror while the cement sailed down and into someone’s windshield. It worked though. Even if the bird had only been grazed it’s attention was briefly caught by the loud alarm ringing from the car. “Run!”

Mackenzie whimpered in pain as she scrambled to try and save herself from the giant bird-like creature, but she feared without any kind of help, she was done for. At least she’d go out on good terms with Winter. But then she heard it. The sound of breaking glass followed by someone yelling ‘run’, and without hesitating, she took the woman’s advice and started to run back towards the hospital, only to realize she couldn’t be seen by doctors considering she was already dead!

Quickly diverting to the right, Mackenzie started going back towards her car keeping her eyes on the huge bird and on the person who was trying to help her, but immediately, she noticed it had swooped down again flying towards her. However, this time Mackenzie had been ready. Dropping to the ground, she laid flat as the monstrous animal brushed past her and made its way back up into the air.

With all her strength, Mackenzie quickly climbed back to her feet and started running again towards the Mini Cooper. It was just within her reach, but before she could make it, here came the creature again - this time narrowly missing her head and landing on the top of her car waiting for her to come closer causing the zombie to stop dead (literally) in her tracks.

Why was she turning direction? The girl had the right idea at first to run towards the hospital so that she could at least get inside and away from the giant bird, if not to get checked out, but she soon changed course and Isa let out a strangled yell. “What are you doing?” She could have made it inside, could have locked herself away within those walls, and left Isa to deal with this thing but instead the bird was after the blonde again. Which was weird, considering there was another victim right there in front of it.

Why was it so locked on this woman? Shit, she didn’t have time to question anymore as Spanish curse words flew out of her mouth with the bird going after the girl’s head. She was running again, eyes on the bird that was now on top of the car that the girl had been running for as she slowed to another stop next to her. 

It was eyeing the blonde still, paying no mind to Isabela, and it was clear the thing wasn’t leaving without getting what it wanted. Which seemed to be the girl next to her. “Do you have food or something in your pocket? That’s why the deer keep attacking, right? Maybe give it to the thing?” It was crouching low though, getting ready to take off again. She was really hoping to get away from this without having to transform but she was starting to think that wasn’t going to happen. “You’re already bleeding heavily, just give it what you have.”

Mackenzie stood frozen in fear. The huge monstrous bird was staring her down. Its narrowed eyes boring holes into her already dead body. But what could she do? It was blocking her path. She couldn’t return to the hospital, because then they’d find out what she was and probably never let her leave. And the girl standing next to her was convinced there was food in her pocket, but it wasn’t the case, because apparently to this bird, Mackenzie was the food.

“I don’t have food in my pockets okay? I don’t know what this stupid thing wants.” She knew. Mackenzie knew good and well, her mind quickly going back to the Eurynomos and their acid spray that had eaten holes through her body. Except this time it was a massive fanged bird that was tearing literal chunks from her dead and rotting flesh.

Mackenzie remained focused on the animal, and when she tried to take a slow step to the side, she noticed it shifted its weight following her closely, “I could fucking do a dance right now and this bird would follow my every move.” 

No food? Then what the hell did this thing want with this girl? Why was it looking at her like she was a midnight snack just waiting to be devoured? She was just trying to walk around a hospital parking lot, live her life, not become a meal to a homicidal bird. Looking over at the girl, Isa dragged her eyes down the wounds that were already covering her before sighing softly. She knew what she had to do and she should probably do it quickly. The bird looked impatient.

“Alright, look, when this happens don’t freak out, yea? I don’t want to talk about it afterwards, I just want to get this thing away from you and then maybe get you a doctor.” She was well aware that she was most likely confusing the hell out of this poor girl but understanding would come sooner rather than later. It didn’t look like Isa would have time to get undressed though as the bird was starting to move again, preparing to take off from the roof of the car. 

It happened simultaneously. Her body started to twist as scales started to cover every inch of her skin, morphing into a long coiled snake twice as tall sitting as she normally was standing. The sound of her clothes ripping joined the loud scraping of metal as the bird took off into the sky. Isa had just enough time after her transformation to launch into the air and snatch the ugly creature with her large fangs before it sank its own claws back into the blonde, the screech of the animal possibly heard from a mile away. She slung it back to the ground, slamming it into the concrete hard enough to hear a crack sound through the parking lot. The bird struggled under her weight but it didn’t try to claw at her, amazingly it was still trying to get to the other girl. What in the hell did she have that it wanted so badly?

Mackenzie had no idea what the girl standing next to her was referring to, and really, she had refused to look away from the bird that was so determined to make a meal out of her. But then it happened. As fast as the bird pushing itself airborne. One minute, there had been a girl standing next to her, and the next, an overgrown snake, “What the actual fuck?!” Mackenzie’s eyes had grown as wide as the headlights on her Mini Cooper.

Not waiting around long enough to watch A Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes playout in front of her, Mack desperately made a trip to her car. With the keys secured in her pocket, she quickly pressed the small button on the door handle, which unlocked the all black car. Long over were the days of fumbling with keys, and she was never more grateful than in this moment.

Slipping inside, slamming the door, and instinctively locking it (even though birds and snakes couldn’t open doors), she watched as the battle between the two oversized animals began to play out in front of her. To say she was rooting for the snake was an understatement. And in the heat of the moment, she had forgotten all about the chunks of missing flesh and clothing on her back and shoulder. Instead, she wanted nothing more than to see this battle play out, despite the fact that she probably should have started the engine and drove away, but she couldn’t leave the girl…snake…person who had saved her alone with a giant bird. If worse came to worse, Mackenzie would run down the winged nightmare with her car.

It was injured from the body slam, that was for sure. Isa was starting to feel bad for the creature that was struggling beneath the weight of her jaw, its body writhing while it tried to get to the blonde. Thankfully, the girl had made it to her car before the bird slipped from her grasp and started to make a sloppy turn for her. It was struggling, Isa’s poison slowly making its way through its body while its injured limbs kept going, and it was time to put it out of its misery. It didn’t take long for the snake to catch up to the bird, her body slithering through the parking lot quickly despite her size. Jaws opened wide, she swallowed the animal whole as if it were a delicious sweet treat that she'd been waiting to devour. 

There. Now nobody had to worry about the unhinged creature.

After sitting with her meal for a moment, Isa’s wide eyes turned towards the car again, noticing that the girl inside of it wasn’t giving off the heat signature that everyone gave when she was in her shifted form. What was going on with this chick? First, a homicidal bird wouldn’t leave her alone and now her heat signature was nowhere to be found. It was one of the weirdest things she’d ever seen, the lamia deciding to stay in her snake form until she was sure this girl wasn’t going to attack her. She’d seemed nice enough, as nice as one could be when they were being torn apart anyway. Which was another thing that suddenly struck Isa as strange. Tears in her flesh like that had to cause a lot of damage…why was she not bleeding out?

Mack sat wided-eyed as she watched the fight go down. It was intense. A big ass bird and a big ass snake fighting to the death right in front of her. She would owe this girl big time, if the outcome was in her favor. She had hoped and prayed it would be. Mackenzie didn’t want anyone losing their life defending her. There was already enough death around her. She didn’t need more – unless it was that horrid bird being de–

Before she could even think the word, she watched as Snake Girl swallowed it whole. Mackenzie had seen videos of snakes swallowing their food whole, but to see it in person was a totally different experience, and one that was kind of gross. However, when the bird was gone, the zombie noticed the snake staring at her. It wasn’t exactly a position she wanted to be in, and while she was tempted to get out and thank her, all she could really do was barely crack the window and yell out of it. She had just been attacked by a giant bird. She didn’t want to be devoured by a giant snake, “Uh…t-thank you…for…uh, you know…eating the bird and all. You’re…a real lifesaver!” It was less than enthusiastic simply for the fact that Mackenzie wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. But you best believe her fingers were ready to roll up the window if she needed to in a moment’s notice.

Isa was scared of the girl in the car but it seemed the other girl was scared of her as well. It was almost amusing that she wouldn’t get out until she realized how intimidating she must have been to someone else. A giant snake that had just been a 5’2 girl was bound to scare anyone. Usually the lamia liked to sit with her meals but two things were telling her to shift back as soon as she could; she was in a hospital parking lot where anyone could come along and the smell of decay was starting to reach her. She wasn’t sure where it had come from or if she’d been too distracted before to notice but it was growing stronger by the minute.

She was sluggish though. The large meal coupled with the cold air around her made her transformation back a slow one but soon she was standing in the middle of the parking lot in all of her glory. Arms went to cover herself up while Isa looked around to make sure no one was watching before she took a few steps closer to the car. “Uh…if you want to repay me maybe I can borrow a hoodie or something? You know…this is kind of awkward and all.” Damn that bird. It could have at least given her some time to save her pants.

Mack continued to stare at the girl. The repercussions of a huge snake sitting in front of her car in public hadn’t even come to mind. It wasn’t until she began returning to her human form that Mackenzie snapped out of the trance she was in. And just in time too, because she now saw the girl, who was once a snake, standing by her car in her birthday suit, asking for something to put on.

“Huh…oh, uh…Oh! Yeah. Um, hold on.” Mack felt safe to open the door again, and without second thought, she climbed out of the car and walked to the back. Opening the hatch, she pulled out a blanket – no spare hoodie in sight, surprisingly. With a swift slam of the hatchback, she walked back around to the girl, “I’ve got a blanket. Will that work?” Blood still barely trickled from her large gaping wounds, but she was hardly phased by it. Too many other things had been occupying her mind at the moment, like a growing hunger that was starting to form in the pit of her belly; which meant it was time to leave, “Can I drive you anywhere? I mean…you did save my life after all.” Well, my death, I guess.

Damn, it was freezing out there. Isa hugged her arms to herself a little tighter while she waited for the girl to grab something. She was still looking around them, wary of the passing cars on the street not far from their spot, but thankfully she somehow escaped this incident without a sighting…hopefully. The blonde grabbed her attention, a sigh of relief leaving her as she reached for the blanket. “Thank you, this is perfect.” The barely bleeding arm didn’t escape her notice when she reached out to take the fabric and carefully wrap it around her to cover up what she could. She really wasn’t sure what was going on as that smell lingered in her nose even in her human form and even though the girl was being nice she still felt the need to be cautious.

But the ride did sound nice. She looked between the girl’s arm, the car, and then back to her face, not really sure what to do. Walking back to Worm Row in nothing but a blanket seemed like such a bad idea but there had to be a reason a giant bird was attacking her, not to mention the weirdness of the arm. Biting into her bottom lip, she made a rash decision before fully thinking it through. 

“If I get in the car with you, I want you to know that I’ve spent time in prison and can take care of myself…if the snake wasn’t enough to convince you of that.” Isa felt the beginnings of embarrassment starting to coil around her but she continued. “I don’t know what’s going on with you. Maybe you could explain a little bit before I agree to a ride.” It wasn’t a question and she didn’t want to say it was a demand even if it was leaning towards that. It was more of a gentle nudge into the direction that Isa wanted this to go.

“Yeah, no problem. I usually have a spare hoodie, but I took it out to wash it. It had been in my car for months.” Mackenzie really did need to clean her car out more often. But sometimes, especially on the days when her mood was lower than the grave she should have been currently laying in, it was just hard to be motivated to do things.

Turning her attention back to the woman in front of her, she listened intently to the request. Mackenzie really didn’t want to tell some stranger, especially one who was a giant ass snake, that she was dead. But she knew there had to be just as many questions roaming around in her head as Mack had in her’s; like the fact that there was such a thing as giant snakes that weren’t anacondas. Or was she… “I can promise you that if you get in the car with me, and I can get you to where you need to be in an ample amount of time that there won’t be the need for your giant snake…to come back out.” What? Mack so badly wanted to follow it with…Oh fuck it, “That’s what she said…Sorry, it was just right there.” She bit at her bottom lip trying to stifle a laugh. But enough beating around the bush. That’s what she said.

With a hard sigh, she decided to just confess. Leaning in closer and looking around to make sure there was no one in sight, Mackenzie spoke, “I’m dead. That’s why my arm is barely bleeding, and I’m guessing that’s why that huge bird thing was after me. But because I’m dead and injured, there’s a little problem. The longer I go with said injury, the hungrier I get. That’s why if you want a ride, you’re gonna have to tell me soon, because I’ve gotta get home.” She looked to Snake Girl waiting for an answer. She hated rushing her, but Mackenzie had already consumed one living human today for Winter. She didn’t need to risk consuming another when she had perfectly good brains waiting for her at home.

She felt her lips quirk up at the joke, Isa instantly deciding that she liked this girl. Having a sense of humor after a giant ass bird tried to kill her? Yea, she was alright in the lamia’s book. But she kept quiet, still wanting to know why the blonde wasn’t really bleeding and why said giant bird was going after her. 

The answer she got was just as crazy as her being a giant snake at will. If this were a year ago she never would have given this girl a moment of her time after hearing that but this was now, this was a time when Isa knew things. Still… “You’re what now?” She was stuck on the dead part as her brain still chewed slowly on the next thing the girl had told her but the sense of urgency in her voice was noted. Besides, she knew after eating and not giving herself time to digest wasn’t going to be comfortable so walking home was out of the question even if she did have clothes. A split second decision was made and she started to walk towards the passenger seat. “You’re going to have to explain this more on the way. What do you mean you’re dead? And why does a burger help you feel better?”

She threw the car door open without even asking if it was okay. The blonde had already agreed to give her a ride, Isa was naked, and she’d said they had to hurry. There was no room for manners. The door slammed, she looked out the windshield and motioned for the other to get a move on. “I’ll tell you about my snake shit too. Let’s go.”

Mack expected that kind of answer. Almost welcomed it, but what she was more appreciative of was the fact that this girl wasn’t losing her shit, because Mack was dead. She clearly didn’t understand that it took more than just a burger to satiate her hunger. That would be a story for the ride home. And Mackenzie was pretty sure that when she said the word ‘zombie’, it would clear up a lot more than trying to actually explain herself detail by detail. However, detail was something she’d expect from Snake Girl, because the last time she had seen a giant snake, Jennifer Lopez and Ice Cube were involved. As she heard the door slam, without any hesitation and a ‘let’s go’, Mack spun on her heel and started walking back to the car. The day had definitely been one she wouldn’t forget, between the Winter and Henry drama and now being rescued by a giant snake from a giant bird. But she was just ready to go home, eat, and crash for whatever Wicked’s Rest brought her tomorrow. But first, “I’m a zombie. Now tell me…how are you a giant ass snake? This I need to know. And, on the off chance, do you know Jennifer Lopez or Ice Cube…”

[deiscension]

      ⌜◈⌟    ▌ ── 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐡𝐢 𝐐𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, prompting her to unfurl her fan and shield her lower face from view. Few dare argue with her so forwardly aside from her brother. Even fewer have ever chastened her to such degree. How insulting. How... exhilarating! It's been too long since she engaged in a proper debate.

       𝐅𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, "An easy gesture doesn't negate that the gesture was made at all. The initial outcome isn't where it all has to end. You say the light only goes so far before the darkness swallows it, but that doesn't stop the light from entering the darkness anyway. That is the nature of goodness: it will return again and again even if it seems a futile effort. The world doesn't need to give presents for being good. That's what we should do for each other." She flicks her fan in the other's direction. "Yes, there would be different outcomes in your scenario. But doesn't that make it all the more important that we ought to be kind in spite of what may come of it rather than because of what will come of it?"

" No. " Normally Lamia would play the sweet, helpless role but with her words already heard, there was no point. So she lets the mask half-fall. " Only those who live good lives think such naïve thoughts. " She answers matter of factly, lips twisted into a bitter smile. " Flowers require little effort from either party; it's a poor example. Perhaps one would give you a flower back or an umbrella one day, but that's only because it is a gesture of equal value. " She twirls a strand of her hair between her fingers. " Light only goes so far before darkness swallows it whole. Besides, if an attractive person hands out a hundred flowers versus someone who is considered a freak, the outcome is bound to be different. "

[sixrealmsbeneaththesea]

My dumbass emotionally spent the whole day because I overreacted and QQbaby’d over a bowl…trying to give recompense and the lady of the house is like “keep your money, stop being broken, have some chicken tacos, get fed idiot.” Why did I think she wanted me to hang myself~

Took a deep nap, then woke up and revisited OC shit to decompose. Decompress. Mostly El and plans I had for him and adjacent characters […]

Accidentally destroyed an unfinished sketch with him and D for an unfinished fic. Trying to salvage it and maybe I’ll start writing again.

Urian, MC of one of my vampire races, inspired by silly monster in FF9. Alive but cold-blooded like snakes, descended from lamia/snake goddess. They slowly morph into [calcium buildup induced] statue-like incubi and succubi once they get old enough. But El…does things…to make Urian spontaneously change, and then dresses him up like expected/10 fuck toy. Mostly drew these to figure out curly hair again and draw fanart for this funny lady on Twadder.

Reminded of tongue things in the last few months, so El needed a tongue moment. Also that general…gesture. Always been interesting. I remember a pizza guy driving by and doing that at me while I was waiting at a bus stop years ago and I’ve like “¿¿¿” ever since.

Lastly? Then I got reminded of Threads of Fate/Dewprism while listening to music on YouTube. I’ve been on a golden age PS1 era game nostalgia trip. Doll Master was always my favorite design because him hair do that and him arm big. One more favorite design element. Big body piece that does massive damage. So is just a scribbitty~

Fucking game had a sequel hook but nothing ever came of it. What a shame~

Fun games back then.

[alolynn-heart]

"There's a loose thread on the accent of your outfit!" Adranil whispered as she passed Lynn to the dressing room.

Whisper something in my muse's ear and see how they react @paldean-sunshine / Adranil

Just one quick look at the itinerary that was posted right outside the dressing room. At least the condition choice that she was going for wasn't going to be until a later on during the night. Still! Her hands clutched onto an empty the poke-block dispenser. She was already behind on her prep and she barely had time to finish putting on her outfit.

She managed to tuck in the rest of her blouse into the hem of her skirt, and straighten each shoulder strap upon. Of course the design was aquatic in nature. An array of blue and green threads creating wave-like designs onto the lower half.

There was just one thing different. It was her first attempt at trying to stitch a pattern herself. Even using a few of her water types as reference. The only thing?

"Ehhhh??" Lynn quickly perked around, turning about her head then spinning to try to find the infamous loose thread. She had been sure she caught everything from the past mirror check. Right??

"Where?? I swear if this thing starts to unrave...." her voice trailed off when she felt Lamia poke at her side. It had seemed the gorebyss had found the source of the potential wardrobe dilemma. It was just that...

The Alolan delivery girl hefted out a sigh as her fingers lightly pinched the string. Teal in color that seemed to shimmer at just the right angle. "That leaves -another- task I need to finish before I even try to get out on stage"

[hitmenscribbles]

📣 CHAPTER 17 OF BOUND BY SHADOWS AND SORROW IS NOW FREE!

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