Hi there lovely!
I’ve got another Fleshsmith creation to bless you with on this fine day. Here’s the official artwork of the character, known only as The Drowned (though the people who survive encounters with it often simply refer to it as the Crocodile, for obvious reasons):
This creature was originally a human woman, a witch. She was tried for the crimes of witchcraft and found guilty, the town’s people drowning her in the local lake. The witch was too kind to retaliate against the people she had protected and healed for decades, but her fae lover, however, was not so understanding.
That fae would eventually come to be known as The Fleshsmith.
Devastated by the loss of her wife and unable to let go of what she considers hers, the Fleshsmith made her first creation. Making a creature from bits and pieces of her lover’s body and parts of crocodile flesh. The soft, gentle magic and soul of her beloved witch is thrust into a body held together with fae magic, the two opposing forces constantly pulling and tearing at one another.
Being her first creation, the crocodile’s body is held together with stitches, magic and a prayer. The Fleshsmith has since perfecter her art, able to create monstrosities with parts seamlessly joined together in unholy combinations. She has no love for humanity, only tending to her precious witch, while other humans are used as guinea pigs in her experiments.
The witch is in constant agony, silently screaming as fae magic burns against her own. She wants to pass on and become one with the universe, but is held in place by her once kind Fleshsmith. After the centuries, her mind has begun to fade away, leading her to become more animalistic, seeking out her fellow magic-wielding humans to consume, hoping that taking their magic will fill the gaping hole in her soul.
Other witches can sense that this is one of their sisters and some have considered trying to free her from her eternal limbo, but the Fleshsmith is not the kind of fae most are willing to risk crossing.
MORE HORRORS I love them thank you, yes thrust more terror upon Witch she loves it(she doesn't, but I do).
tw for blood magic(do not attempt) and Witch cutting her hand.
The agony that goes through you when you see it nearly tears your heart in two. You grip your shirt over your heart, trying to control your breathing. It's awful. You glance at the water before you, the reeds that sway gently in the wind, the sparkle of sunlight on the surface. The dark cluster of woods on the other side, the trees roots reaching like sickly tendrils into the murky depths. Yellow eyes watch you, deep and dangerous as the teeth hiding under them.
You've never seen magic like this. Well, that's not exactly true, the bindings you know, the shell- the magic holding it together is in-elegant but you can parse it. It's the conflict between the host and the magic trapped inside it. Although to call it that is... it's like seeing blood smeared on the road and trying to parse what animal it used to be. A witch, you think, you hope not. She's like a pot without a bottom, leaking out foreign magic and tainting her own. Gods how could this happen?
You rummage through your pockets, hoping you have a candle or something that can be useful. Not to help your fallen sister, you don't think you can, but for your own safety. Your fingers wrap around a coin, silver, you can feel the pure metal meeting your magic. There's a pin on the waistband of your skirt, you pull it free and prick your finger, watching the eyes moving closer to the shore. You squeeze the sides of your finger and smear the blood over the coin, take a deep breath, and flick the coin on your palm to get it spinning. The silver circle wobbles, the surface uneven and impractical for this movement, but you urge your magic to wrap around it, and the coin spins. You let your hand fall at your side and it stays hovering in the air in front of you. Magic wrapped around your proxy, wrapped around you. With one finger you push the coin towards the water, let the proxy take your place and draw the crocodile's attention.
The crocodile's mouth opens, showing rows of sickly blood stained teeth. You crouch to watch it, crossing your arms over your knees. It's interesting magic, the signature of it is... hm. Unpleasant, greasy, it reminds you of the mimic that you dealt with not long ago. You wish- No, you can deal with things yourself. It'll be kinder if you deal with this yourself.
"I'm sorry," You tell the crocodile, hearing your voice echoed through the coin, "I usually try to avoid killing, and you-" You hold your hagstone to your eye with a sigh, watching the writhing red that holds the creature's flesh together, stitches infected with rogue magic, "-you're tethered to something I don't want to fight." Crones are always trouble, fae, human, or other. Stubbornly set in their ways, and too powerful to convince of anything different.
You can only hope the same won't be said about you when you reach that age. If you reach that age. That's looking less likely the longer your watch the crocodile, your thoughts churning with ways to help. Price is right, your heart is going to get you killed one day. You heave another sigh, scratch your head and try not to think about how smug he'd be if you told him that.
"Right," you stand, dust off your skirt and go to retrieve your bag from where you'd dropped it. There should be something in there. An athame maybe, hopefully some mugwort, or five finger grass. You should really invest in a mobile apothecary. You mutter to yourself, repeating your ingredients as you dig through the bag. The crocodile inspects your coin, the magic a distraction from your much more edible self.
"Just like blood letting," You mumble, tugging your blade free of its guard. You wonder if Price could get you some decent leaches. The silver reflects the anxiety in your eyes back to you, the blade's edge thirsty as you run your thumb along it. You frown, Price isn't going to like this, but the blade needs to know the magic it's targeting. He won't notice one little cut, probably.
The blade of the athame rests as gently as a kiss against the outer edge of your hand, against the meat of your palm. You press it firmly against your skin, the sting of it is unpleasant, and the churn of your magic focuses the creatures attention on you. The real you. Your blood flows into the divot in the center of the knife, and you're quick to pull the blade back with a soft word to stop the bleeding.
The crocodile moves towards you and you hold the knife out. A threat, but also a promise of assistance. As long as you aren't eaten. You coin drops from its hover, the magic depleted. You just need one good cut, one broken stitch. Then there will be somewhere for the witch's magic to siphon out. It won't bring her back, but it might give her a little peace. The teeth are back on full display, the hinged maw of the creature open for you. As if you might take it upon yourself to jump in, save your fallen sister the trouble of devouring you.
A firm arm wraps around your waist and tugs you out of the way as you swing your knife, and the jaws snap shut. You hurry with your hagstone to inspect the beast as Price swears at you. The words are unfamiliar to you, but the sentiment you know all too well. The crocodile hisses at you. Price growls back.
You think got one of the stitches, but you're not sure. You can see the frayed edges of the witch's magic pushing against the container's seams. It seems to radiate magic, spell half lifes sloughing off of its skin waiting to be replenished by any magic it can get its jaws around. You just needed one cut, just enough to truly let the magic trickle out.
"What the hell are you thinking?" Price yells at you.
"That I don't need your help to do my job," You snap back, struggling against his hold.
The crocodile takes a step forward and you feel Price's grip shift, hear something metallic click. "Try it." He growls out a warning to the creature. It shrinks back. You feel your heart sink watching the creature slink towards the water, obviously not eager to go up against Price. The arm around you tightens, you glance at his other hand, at the-
You shrink away from the firearm, pressing closer into his grip. Price doesn't budge, just shifts his grip on you and lifts you to hold against his chest. The crocodile looks at you, almost pitying, and turns back to the water. It knows well enough what fae do to the witches they keep.
"They're a witch Price, I have to-"
"Not anymore," He cuts you off, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch. He's never yelled at you before. There's a shift in his posture, you can't smell the metal of the gun anymore, you don't look for it.
"If it was me-" You try, only to be cut off again.
"But it isn't," He moves towards your bag, bending to grab it with his free hand, "and it's never going to be." He swallows something, some understanding that you can't parse. His eyes are hard when they look at you, he shakes you. "Got it?"
You nod quickly and he carries you over to your bag, only setting you down long enough to gather your things. You take his hand when he offers it. His fingers are firm, unyielding, they cage your hand like steel as he pulls you towards the forest. It's a beautiful sunny day, but snow is beginning to fall between the trees.
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Help Disabled Queer System get some funds 2.0
So we have gotten some underwear, tooth paste, sunscreen and a few things to eat but now more bs has struck. Thank you to whoever donated to the last post sadly we just need regular financial assistance until we can set up our commissions properly.
So have 0.80 cents in our bank account rn
And we still need clothes and food however recently our sewer backed up and ruined all our towels so now we need some more of those as well.
Basically we still need Clothes, Food, Towels, Soap (For body and face) as well as save up for our guest next month so we can afford to eat and afford gas. And a new cane, ours is pretty beat up near the bottom and we're not sure how to fix it tbh.
So feel free to donate or commission we'll do about anything at this point we just, need a lot more help than I was expecting
Since june is coming up we'll happily do pride things just, shoot us a message of what you want and we'll give you a price/gen
0/$250
Our Carrd Paypal Ko-Fi
And you can Contact us either Here or on Discord at Enchanted Forest#9637 or at @lirusstories (art blog) @lirulua (main hosts blog)
Note: Pictures are not me but @glitchyartist with things i made for them
Just, need help reblogging feel free to ignore
@glitchyartist @randowaffle @oh-itskitkat @immabethehero @spudmcloughlin @malaboos-bodacious-blog @asterismace @sw1tchb04rd
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