#wyatt-thread

[chthonicbeloved]

“Stuff me full.” ethan to wyatt

       wyatt licked his lips as he looked down at ethan head cocked as he shifted moving closer to him. his arms wrapped around ethan pulling him closer against his chest. “you sure you want me to do that?” he asked with a cock of his head as he looked down at him. “sure you can take it baby?” he asked his hand sliding down ethan’s back grabbing his ass and dragging him closer grinding his hips against his.

@arcaneloved​ 

[sleepynxri]

"Come here, you can sit on my lap while I work" 

A/N: Yeah I know it's another one lmao, don't come for me it's 2 am and I'm sleep deprived (hence my name) hehhe

Pairing/s: Wyatt Quinn x gn!reader

Warnings: curses lmao

“What in great heavens happened to your room darling?!"

This is why you should never show your room to Wyatt. The Beige blonde male stood around your little room almost starstrucked seeing the boxes laying around the floor aimlessly.

You expected this would happen considering how a clean freak he is sometimes and the constant……  lines of his added routine to make himself more beautiful.

You defended yourself saying that you didn't expect to be stranded in the middle of a street and arrive at Brine Bay for the summers. You were actually planning to head to your family house but well- you know what happened but you didn't explain it to the man at hand.

At this point you aren't sure if he's fuming red in anger, frustration, embarrassment or all of the above. His hand twitched slightly in annoyance as he took his surroundings for a second and took a deep sigh. 

“Darling…  you told me this before, at which point I'm aware of your situation. But you could have at least cleaned your room even when you knew you had a guest over” Wyatt did have a point.

Your guess was you didn't have to pick up the boxes since you will be temporarily staying in the room for who knows how long. So it's a waste to clean everything when any day or week you could be gone after a phone call from Kai.

A small hum accumulated from your mouth as you started on cleaning up your room to help on Wyatt’s sanity(I heard that darling 💢) 

You pick up the boxes and stack them together in an area where no one can get hurt from it. You opened up your windows (I assume they can?) To let some of the dust flow outside your room and do a mini clean up on your area.

To your surprise, Wyatt curled up his sleeves and helped with the cleaning. Who knew he could clean? You were aware that he had a personal chef so you expected that he had someone to clean his house for him as well. People were right on the phrase “don't judge a book by its cover"

With the help of Wyatt, the cleaning went more smoothly and we're practically finished on doing the mini cleanup on your area.

You pummelled yourself on your bed with an exhausted sigh, relief stretched around your body as you didn't expect the cleaning drained you. Then again you did just finish your shift and met up with Wyatt to head to your hostel room for some “bonding time".

Speaking of the said blonde male… 

Your eyes scanned on where the model was, to your luck your angle was able to see that he sat himself down on your desk chair- is that a laptop?? Where in the fuck did he get that from??

Blinking your eyes in surprise, you manoeuvred your body around to look at him in a better angle. He looked…  enchanting while he works.

His brown eyes locked focus into the dimly bright screen of his laptop, as his glasses were planted on the bridge of his nose. His beige blonde hair was on its normal hairstyle with some of his hair strands drapped around his straight shoulders. 

A leg was crossed over from his thigh as his hands continued typing on the keypads like he was busy with a rushed assignment. You cringed slightly from the memory of the sleepless nights in college with a paper due around 11:59 at night.

You didn't realise you were still staring at the male as Wyatt glanced his eyes towards you with amused brown eyes. You felt the stare as you snapped out from your thoughts immediately. 

“Staring is considered rude darling. But I'll give an exception since it's you of all people who’s staring at me like that" Wyatt gave a small courteous chuckle as his eyes scanned back to the laptop and continued on typing out his work.

A blush creeped into your cheeks as you tried to hide it using a plushie/pillow that you had in your bed. It got worse after hearing another chuckle coming out of Wyatt’s mouth.

A few hours? I think it's been like half an hour since both of you even talked a single thing. The silence was comforting, but you worry that you might be loud sometimes by scrolling around your phone while watching WikWok videos.

You suddenly felt the bed dip beside you as your eyes glanced towards the area and Wyatt was there holding his phone. 

Before you could question what he was doing, he just smirked slightly and gently patted his lap. You looked… . Confused?

“I can see you have a lot in your mind, come sweet thing. Lay on my lap while I continue working." Your eyes widened at this.

Was he- inviting you to lay on his lap? THE Wyatt Quinn is asking you to place your head on his lap??

Before you could protest, he placed a hand around your waist and dragged you over to him.

The position ended up with Wyatt sitting down on the bed with a leg hanging from the edge and you laying down into his lap while your back was facing his chest.

You blushed darkly at this, Wyatt didn't mind the position as he started on typing his phone while using only 1 hand while his other gently caressed your hair.

You were nervous at first but relaxed at some point. The hand on your hair was already enough to make you calm down, as it reminded you of the time of a parental figure you had caressing your head while trying to make you fall asleep.

You smiled slightly as you closed your eyes in bliss. A small sigh of relief could be heard from you as you can feel the tiredness creep around your body.

“Have a nice rest Doll, I'll be here when you wake up”

Threads of You: Beyond the Bay

Lavendeer Studio Discord Server

Disclaimer: I am not part of the Lavendeer Studio team, I'm just placing the links here to whoever wants to play the game or wants to join the server for more updates and upcoming events!!

[rileyrp]

—muse : wyatt miller , paediatric surgeon , bisexual , 45 . —welcome to : mutuals & non mutuals . —open to: male , female , nb , trans . —plot : wyatt is out for a drink after a long and gruelling day at work and he just needs some sort of release .

wyatt stared into his glass, the amber liquid swirling as he gave it a slow, contemplative spin. he was on his third whiskey of the night, each sip doing little to dull the sharp edges of the day’s stress. work had been hell, as usual, and the thought of returning to his empty apartment was unappealing. he had always been a workaholic. balancing the demands of his career with time for his family was challenging enough; a romantic relationship was out of the question. he had tried once, with a woman who had almost become his wife, but that had fallen apart, leaving him unwilling to try again.

sex, on the other hand, was simple. it was a physical release, uncomplicated by emotions or expectations and tonight he just needed to find the energy to pursue someone and scratch that itch.

[ryanlockheart]

— ₊ ° . ☆ riley mackenzie felt like he was on top of the world. he'd managed to escape the small town troubles of versailles, kentucky, and now, he was living it up on the campus of belgrave university. thirteen hours and nearly a thousand miles between his hometown and his school meant he had a new found freedom. you couldn't tell him shit, and he was riding that high all the way to the bank. he was the lacrosse player everyone was buzzing about; he'd managed to take their less-than-stellar track record and turned it into a state championship last year. he was breezing by in all of his classes. he even had the sweetest roommate who he could beg for help on homework when he needed. riley was at the top of his game, but he could sense that something was up with wyatt when he sauntered through their apartment door. there was a dark cloud hanging around in the room. a small pout formed on his pink lips as he settled down on the couch next to the other boy. he slung his backpack on the ground, eyes focused on wyatt. "what's up, buttercup?" riley questioned, cocking up a brow. "and don' even try 'n' pull that nothin's wrong bullshit. 'm more than just a pretty face, y'know. 'm smart, can tell when somethin's buggin' ya."

[chthonicbeloved]

arcaneloved​:

         wyatt understood that tim wielded autistic rage with strength comparable to atlas, not by choice, and angering him intentionally would not be best for either of them. tim hated being angry, it reminded him of his father, and he would much rather be playfully teased just to the edge of irritation. “oh, i tried. back when i was little, my mama saw how much i liked ‘em ol’ cowboy movies ‘nd got me this cheap little hat. i wore it so much i crushed it beyond belief. ‘nd trust, it weren’t a good look.” his mama had thought it was cute, though. “y’think i would steal your hat if i wasn’t gonna let ya?” tim grinned, his genuine smile which was incredibly toothy and eager, smiling into their kiss. “i’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout it all day.” 

        wyatt didn’t particularly like the thought of tim being mad at him. that however didn’t change the fact that he was gonna tease him a little. he however liked to think he was smart enough to know when he pushed to far. eyebrows raising he grinned slightly as he listened to tim talk about his childhood. “gosh i can only imagine how little you treated that hat.” he said with a laugh as he looked at him as he cocked his head. “you’d be surprised what people will try. especially if they don’t know the hat rule.” he added as he pressed up against tim with a small grin. “oh really you’ve been thinkin’ about it all day huh?” 

[wyattxwheeler]

starter for @mattswheeler

location: mad monk brewing

"Hey, sorry I am late," typical of Wyatt, though not because of his job this time. "We had a hard time getting Teo down," he sat down with a sigh, though it was not one of defeat. "I've always wanted kids," he laughed softly, "but they aren't kidding about that whole lack of sleep thing." He told his brother, "but enough about me, what about you? How was your trip? How are you and Logan doing?" Wyatt was excited to be part of his younger brothers life again.

[youllalwaysbemyporcelain]

@moonenvvy

Addison was extremely pleased to see Wyatt here. She had desperately missed him. So without thinking she runs up to him and hugs him. "Wyatt! You're here. I'm so happy to see you! Have you been here long?"

[cursedname]

" things happen, just breathe. " leo reassured gently, reaching out to pat her shoulder softly. " besides, it's nothin' i can't fix. " leo added on as free hand moved to grab his handkerchief from back pocket to pass over to piper. / @gardenlead.

[soulcheri]

closed starter for wyatt bateman @hallowcked

"I wouldn't ask for your help with this, if I wasn't totally desperate." Sadie felt the need to reiterate that as they climbed the gilded steps leading them to the front door of her childhood mansion. Hap Driscoll had requested that each of his children return home for the weekend. Just in time for the surprise announcement he had waiting.

Given the history of her family and the ridicule she'd face coming home as the single child once again, Sadie couldn't handle any more of their mindnumbing pity. She needed to scrounge up a date. And fast. Unfortunately for her, those were hard to find at the drop of a hat and under such short notice. Her only plausible option was Wyatt. He was decent looking, and he had a good job. He would be an acceptable choice in the eyes of her mother and father. Thus, here they were, gearing up to meet them as a couple.... "So with that said, please don't embarrass me or I will kick you in the balls with my stiletto. And trust me, it'll hurt." More than her having to swallow her own pride.

[chthonicbeloved]

Talk dirty to me. "I wanna feel you in my guts." tim&wyatt YOU’RE WELCOME 

      he isn’t exactly shocked to hear tim say something like that. however he did pause for a moment glancing around as he shifted so tim was backing up to the bedroom. “that so? think we can arrange that. wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” wyatt smirked slightly as he wrapped an arm around tim’s waist and squeezed his ass. lifting tim up he carried him back to the bed until they both fell on it and wyatt leaned down and kissed tim deeply tongue sliding into his mouth as he started working on his clothes.

@arcaneloved​

[dirtwatchman]

PARTIES: Caleb (@dirtwatchman) and Wyatt (@loftylockjaw) TIME: Current (May 18th) SUMMARY: Wyatt brings Caleb a present. He's not home right now but Aesil is happy to accept once they see what it is. WARNINGS: None

How the hell this guy had a lover, Aesil would never know. From what they had observed over the short time they had followed Caleb they knew the guy was as awkward as awkward could get. Not to mention, he smelled. It was like death had warmed over and latched on to his skin…which should have made people want to stay away, right? Was this normal now? It couldn’t be, right? They’d been getting looks all morning when they were out earlier. Either Caleb’s nose didn’t work well or he was noseblind to whatever waves of stench would roll off of him because it was making the demon’s eyes water as they waited for some guy named Wyatt to show up. Apparently bad hygiene didn’t deter someone from wanting to have some sort of relationship with the husk he’d taken over. 

They so wanted to blow their cover so that they didn’t have to pretend to like these people any longer. The ancient woman roaming the halls of this place was enough to deal with, did they really have to add another person to the mix? Right, they had to keep up appearances. At least until they had everything they needed to raise Andras and watch everyone suffer under their cruel thumb. 

Fortunately, this town was rich in the occult and the supernatural, a melting pot of all the ingredients they’d need to do this, so they’d at least ended up in the right place when they were summoned. Unfortunately, that meant they couldn’t disappear into the woods to never be heard of until it was time for Andras to squish them all like the bugs that they were.

Almost forgetting that they were waiting for someone to show up, they were slightly startled when there was a knock on the door. Eyes rolling, they did their best to mimic the nervous boy, which wasn’t too hard as waves of Caleb’s anxiety started to appear beneath the surface of their hold. “Uh, the door’s open!” The question was; did Caleb usually make food for this person? What were their normal activities together aside from the fun ones? There was no hope of the boy giving them any sort of answer as they were sure he was trying his best to protect Wyatt so they grabbed Caleb’s phone to quickly scroll through the text messages between the two. “This is nauseating…” 

Aesil looked up as this Wyatt approached and quickly had to wipe the surprise from their features. Okay…Caleb had good taste. Why was he with this dope? “Hey, I was about to pull up some kind of take out if you want to order in?” Because they didn’t want to go out unless they knew it would be a fun time and they had a feeling that the two of them would have different versions of fun…

Stepping into the home after hearing Caleb calling out to him, Wyatt switched the container he held from one hand to the other, taking care to make sure the door was clicked shut behind him. Meandering his way toward the source of the voice, he made note of the brief look of surprise on the other’s face, but it was gone so quickly that he wondered if he hadn’t imagined it. Take out? “What, you find a place that delivers offal? Color me surprised.” He wore a smile as he strode into the room, pausing as a peculiar smell hit him. After taking a second to adjust, he realized where it was coming from and frowned ever-so-slightly.

“Oh, Firebug… I ask this in the kindest way possible, but when's the last time you had a proper meal, darlin’? You're lookin’...” and smelling… “a bit more dead than usual.” Concern flashed over his features as he walked up to the zombie, not finding the smell horribly offensive (he'd eaten dead things before, after all), but it would wear on him after a while. Hell, it'd wear on anyone. “Ain’t a problem, though! I got a surprise for you here that ought to fix you up faster than a knife fight in a phone booth!” He lifted the container in his hand, angling it so Caleb could see the brain matter through the glass. “Got it fresh for ya n’ put it on ice til I could make it over—and before you ask, no, it wasn’t responsibly sourced. I’d say the hunter that thought she could take me on was bein’ pretty irresponsible.” 

Offal? Shit, maybe they would have a good time together if they went out. There were downsides to this body but they were starting to find the good things as well. Watching the boy dig up bodies was a reason they had made the final decision to overtake him, after all. This also explained the treasure trove of body parts stored in the basement. But Aesil had to be careful from now on. They’d already messed up at playing Caleb with this person and being what they were to each other the demon knew it was only a matter of time before Wyatt knew something was completely off. 

It did come as a relief to know that this awful smell wasn’t normal. The dead comment was a surprise though as they hadn’t noticed that the heart hadn’t been beating inside Caleb’s chest until Wyatt said it. They’d lived without a heart for so long that it had seemed so normal not to feel the blood pumping through the boy’s veins. Still, they should have recognized the stench immediately. “I guess it has been a while.” The demon ran their fingers through Caleb’s curly hair the way they’d seen him do on occasion when he was anxious, trying to look embarrassed that Wyatt had to endure the smell coming off of the body.

Curiosity hit them like a brick as Wyatt continued on, but when he held up the container and the brain came into view, everything started to click into place for the demon. He needed brains so the body wouldn’t rot…zombie. This man was a zombie. No wonder it was so easy to possess him, even for a demon who didn’t have much experience with it all. Was it normal for the undead to walk the earthly plane like this? More importantly, would Caleb enjoy that his lover brought over a fresh brain for him?

The answer was an overwhelming ‘no’ as they let the man’s emotions bleed through their thoughts. Which was so stupid to them. This man should have been elated but he was more worried than anything. That’s alright, Aesil was in a generous mood after seeing the gift, they would show gratitude for the both of them. They let his lips pull up into a grateful smile, eyes shining. “And you thought of me?” He was liking this Wyatt more and more, even with the stupid pet names he enjoyed using. Anyone who brought a brain to someone he enjoyed spending time with was worth their time as well. “But what are you going to eat, love?” The word felt like acid on their tongue and they fought the urge to blanche at it. They had to butter him up though. They hadn’t even gotten to the hunter portion of this tale and they wanted an explanation. “We can cook something up while you tell me this story because it sounds like a…doozy. But I should probably eat this first.” 

Wyatt smiled appreciatively—he was glad for Caleb’s response to the fresh organ, having worried that it might have crossed a line too far, even if it had been acquired in self defense. “Sounds good! And don’t worry ‘bout me… the previous owner of this here thinkin’-meat was plenty of food for the rest of the week.” Truth told, he could have had more, but human food wouldn’t sate the hunger that kept him in fighting shape. No, that would require another reptilian romp through the wilderness and raw meat and bone. “But! Lemme saute this thing up for you, yeah? Warm it, give it a little kick with some spices…” He knew how Caleb liked it, after all. 

Leading the way into the kitchen, Wyatt made himself comfortable in the workspace, already familiar with the layout and where things were kept. Fetching a skillet from the cabinet, the lamia set it atop the stove and started rifling through the spice bottles. “You won’t believe it, actually… I met two hunters in the woods not that long ago! One was there specifically for me, she’d been tailin’ me for weeks, pardon the expression. She thought she had me cornered—” she had “—but she wasn’t ready for my particular brand of whoop-ass.” He turned, spices in hand and grinning gleefully. “Made quick work of her once she came at me. Saved the head for last so I could make her death worth twice the trouble it’d cost. But then wouldn’t you know it, some other jackass arrives on the scene and gets the same idea in his head that he’s gonna ‘take care of me.’” He worked as he spoke, oiling the pan after it had had a minute or two to heat, plucking a few bits of brain from the glass container and dropping them onto the pan, enjoying  the sizzle that followed. “Didn’t get to do much before he was gettin’ all wrapped up by vines. Me too, actually. Dragged us both underground, wouldn’t you know it.” Spatula in hand, Wyatt pushed the brain matter around in the pan and started adding spices with the other. It didn’t smell half bad… “Had to team up to get out of there, which was probably the worst part of it. That guy was a real piece of work. What was his name… Emilio?”

Aesil would have preferred the brain raw and bloody to preserve the integrity of eating the organ that fueled a human. But they had a feeling that Caleb preferred it the way Wyatt was suggesting so they didn’t protest the idea. Fucking zombie was pathetic. Their interest peaked even higher though when Wyatt mentioned eating the rest of this person, eyes plastered to the man. Was he a zombie too? No, he wouldn’t have offered the brain if he was or would have least wanted to share, they thought. However pathetic he was, at least Caleb’s life was becoming more interesting to them. “I’d love that, actually. Thank you.” Again, they had to swallow down the irritation that came with having to use those words but they smiled through it.

All they could think about was whether Wyatt was something they could use. The ritual they needed to prepare required many different ingredients so there was plenty of opportunity to put whatever he was to use here. In the meantime, they were glad that the man knew his way around the place because they sure didn’t. That would have been awkward. 

There were no hints to his particular brand of supernatural as Wyatt told his story but Aesil was thoroughly enjoying it. He took pride in his kills, something they believed everyone should do, and they appreciated that fact. Turns out, they wouldn’t have to kill the lover after all. At least not yet. “Vines? What type of vines?” They let a quiver of worry slip through in their words, eyes dragging over Wyatt to feign concern. Caleb would care if he had any wounds that needed to be patched up, they knew that much. But then they lead into the next question with a hint of excitement in their voice, believing that the zombie was all in on this murder thing. “Is he still down there with the vines or do we need to take care of him?”

A curious expression crossed Wyatt’s face then, one of bemusement. “Not sure, really…” he answered the first question slowly, still considering the second. It wasn’t really like Caleb to jump so quickly to violence. Strange, that. Maybe it was a side effect of not having had a proper meal for a while? That made sense to the lamia. The hungrier Caleb got, the more violent and unlike himself he became—he’d basically said as much some months ago. This shouldn’t have come as a surprise, so Wyatt just smiled and shook his head. 

“Now now, firebug, don’t be hasty. Idjit’s well gone from that place, off to bigger n’ better things… woulda killed ‘im, if not for him helpin’ me outta there.” He was a hunter, after all, and what kind of hunter didn’t really matter to Wyatt. It wasn’t a distinction he cared to make, they were all equally as shitty as the last. At least, that’s what he was telling himself. He wasn’t going to admit that some small part of him had kind of felt bad for Emilio, and maybe even ended up liking him.  “Maybe next time, though, ah? He was a grumpy sort, can’t imagine he’d be happy to see me if our paths ever crossed again. Would probably give me good reason to bite his stupid head off, too.” Happy with the state of the brain matter (and not wanting to overcook it), Wyatt fetched a plate and scooped the viscera onto it, taking a fork out of the drawer with his free hand once he’d set the pan back down and sliding it over to Caleb. “Eat up, you wily thing,” he said with a smirk. “Maybe we oughtta start huntin’ together. I know you’ve been makin’ due with corpses from work, but… we could get you fresher. Even if it ain’t always human, you know? Brain’s a brain, gotta still be good, right?”

They’d said something wrong. They knew it as soon as Wyatt made that face. Did Caleb have any fun or was he just content with letting his friends get all of the danger? Frowning at the words, Aesil tried to think back on any gestures the man made when he was nervous, the demon starting to pick at the table cloth next to them. It was a delayed reaction and Aesil knew it but maybe Wyatt wouldn’t see through it. “I think I just wanted to do something for you, you know? Since you’re risking a lot being so thoughtful to me. Plus, I don’t like that he went after you at all.” 

The bloodthirsty part of Aesil came out as they eyed the brain, eyes glinting. Just the idea of turning a human into a meal for themselves was enough to bring their spirits right back up. Getting rid of the smell of this body was a very big bonus. They were already mid bite before Wyatt spoke, mirroring his smirk. He didn’t have a clue, did he? They wondered how far they could push this now. Maybe Caleb should know how much this man actually knew him, or didn't in this case.

Again, things started to fall into place with Wyatt’s words. That was why the zombie was digging people up, he didn’t want anything fresh. The panic that Aesil could feel at the suggestion was enough to clue them in to that. Another bite was had, the demon not caring enough to compliment the chef, before they responded. “Actually, I think human might be good for me. I should probably try to prevent…this, from happening again.” They gestured to their body before they looked up, Caleb trying to fight this agreement every step of the way, but Aesil only smiled. “I think I would like that though. I’m starting to come around to the idea, anyway. This is becoming a lot to handle.”

The sentiment, despite probably being gruesome to the majority of audiences, warmed Wyatt’s heart. And again, it surprised him. Not that Caleb wanted to do something for him, or that he disliked that the shifter was hunted and threatened by others, no—those things made perfect sense. It was the offer (or desire?) to willingly maim another person that struck him as strange. Or, not strange, for he wasn’t exactly an upstanding, moral citizen, but rather out of character for Caleb. Caleb, who was for all the world a soft spoken, soft hearted man. So unlike the types that Wyatt usually consorted with, and perhaps that was the very reason he kept coming back, disregarding everything he’d ever said about not wanting to commit to anyone. 

Not that this was commitment, but it was more than he’d ever tried before. 

Maybe that was the reason he was finding it so easy to justify these new behaviors in his head. He wanted Caleb to like him, and not just the socially acceptable persona he often wore. He wanted Caleb to like all of him, the parts of him that devoured his child siblings and often beat and butchered other supernatural creatures to the brink of death and beyond. It was folly, he knew, but he wanted it… so he chose to accept this new truth of the zombie sitting in front of him, hoping that it was real. The idea that there could be something nefarious at work had not yet crossed his mind.

Wyatt sat down beside him, nudging him with his shoulder. “Oh yeah? Well don’t worry, mon cher. We can definitely hunt the types that deserve it.” To hunt a truly innocent person would be too out of character for Wyatt to accept as real, he knew that much. And frankly, he didn’t really enjoy the idea of that. He generally liked people! It was just the ones that wanted him or people like him dead that he took issue with. And if Caleb was willing to take that at face value and get himself some better food in the process, well, what was the harm?

As Aesil watched Wyatt they felt a smug sense of accomplishment as Caleb’s disappointment became clear. Either the man didn’t know the zombie at all or something else was at play here. They had seen the gears turning in Wyatt’s mind, witnessed the multiple emotions that flit across his features, it wasn’t hard to surmise that the acceptance of his suggestion meant something to him. What it was, Aesil couldn’t begin to guess. It was the satisfaction of proving something to the man lying in wait under their skin that kept them happy though, knowing the chaos it could cause if Aesil ever decided to choose another body.

If they let Caleb live, that is. Which was unlikely. Right now they were enjoying torturing him enough to keep it up.

They took their last bite, realizing how much the food was affecting the body now. The stench wasn’t gone but it was easing up a little as their energy levels rose significantly. But the suggestion of only going after people who deserved it was boring, draining in itself. “Deserve it, of course. I wouldn’t imagine it going any other way.” Because saying otherwise was far too obvious. Aesil wanted to play a game with the two of them, not completely blow their cover. It was too early on to do that. “When are you going to be hungry again, love? Maybe we can go as soon as you are? I have to take the plunge sometime…” 

Maybe a little eager. It seemed that even the one who deserved death wasn’t enough for the regular occupant. Caleb was angry now, the hint of a smirk playing on their lips as that emotion came to the surface even if they didn’t understand why. Bonding time with Wyatt should have made him happy.

“Ah! Well…” Wyatt only needed to eat once a week or so, but that was assuming the rest of his time was spent rather relaxed. Because of his fights at the Pit, which could be multiple times a week sometimes, he often required a much heartier diet. So, in spite of the fact that he’d recently consumed the majority of at least one human being, he knew he was going to need more again after his upcoming fight. 

“A few days, probably?” He noted that the side effects of not having eaten seemed to be easing up for Caleb already, glad that the man’s body seemed to always go to work so fast. He wished he had a healing ability like that, honestly… it would certainly lower the stakes in the Pit fights, anyway. He was a quick healer when full, but nothing like Caleb. 

Wyatt stood again to clean up the dishes he’d made, pausing first to press a kiss into Caleb’s soft curls. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss, but he was far from clever enough to figure it out, so he just chalked it up to his own bizarro adventures over the last few days. Setting the container of the leftover brains in the fridge, he gave it a shake of his finger before moving on to hand wash the skillet he’d used. “What’s left there ought to get you through until then, yeah? If we need to go sooner, we can.” He was a little thrilled by the idea, strange as it seemed. 

A few days, they could handle that. Even if they were itching to get their hands on some of these humans, patience was key here. Caleb probably would have been pathetic and tried to put it off as long as he possibly could so it only made sense. The idea of it though, the very thought of being able to put their teachings into practice, was so enticing. Enough so that when Wyatt placed a kiss to the top of their head, Aesil was almost ready to say fuck it all and start right away.

They stood to their feet, coming up behind Wyatt silently as they listened to him speak. They were thinking about taking one of the knives in the sink and plunging it into his throat but two things stopped them; the idea of that blonde wench coming in before they could clean it all up and the longing to know what exactly Wyatt was. If he was dead too, a knife to the throat would only be an inconvenience but somehow eating most of a human didn’t scream zombie and vampires only wanted blood. The other undead fed off of feelings. Which meant he had to be something else.

When Wyatt turned, Aesil plastered a smile to Caleb’s lips, pretending that they weren’t just thinking about murdering him in cold blood for a simple romantic gesture. “It should be, yes. But if not I have stock down in the basement.” Or so they thought. That had to be why the lock was on the door, right and why the wench stayed away? “Just let me know when you’re ready and maybe we can go out to the same area. I want to get a look at this hunter if he’s still around.” Tilting their head, they looked down at the sink that was almost completely empty now. “Do you want some help? You’ve been doing all the work here and it’s kind of my house.” 

“Don’t worry about it, cher. I work in kitchens all day, s’what I’m used to,” Wyatt laughed. “But! Will do. About the hunter, I mean. I’d say he was cute, if he didn’t have the personality of Oscar the Grouch. You know, that muppet that lived in a garbage can.” Scrubbing clean the last of the utensils, Wyatt set them on the dishrack beside the sink and turned fully to meet Caleb’s gaze, pulling him in close. A smile danced over his lips as his thumbs hooked through the belt loops of Caleb’s pants, leaning himself back against the countertop. “Now, see? Those are rapid results I can get behind.” He gave the other a wink before elaborating. “You’re smellin’ fine as a tulip, my dear. Indulge me then… what do you say we make use of the time we got before your roommate gets home, ah?” The weariness from lack of sleep was threatening to catch up with him again, and he’d do just about anything to chase it away… granted, this was the most fun, preferred method. 

There was a flash of irritation in their eyes as Wyatt pulled them closer but Aesil hoped he would misconstrue the why, maybe think Caleb didn’t like him saying another was cute or something. The demon didn’t know how far their relationship was at this point but jealousy had to come into play at some point especially if they were sleeping together. They brought a hand up to rest on Wyatt’s collarbone, an attempt to keep him from leaning in further but also a reason to have their hand close to his neck in case this started to get too intimate. “Maybe not fast enough to be honest. I’m still feeling a little…gross.” They tried to look apologetic but weren’t too sure if they were conveying it well. How did one screw their face up into that sad little puppy dog stare that made them sick? “Next time I promise I will more than make it up to you.”

But there would be no next time. After being in this man’s arms Aesil was sure they would be avoiding contact with him as much as possible and Caleb would be dead when they tired of this body. Poor little Wyatt would have no one to play with soon. “You look a little off yourself now that I’m not so ravenous. Maybe you should lie down…”

Hm. Disappointing. But valid, he supposed. Wyatt shrugged, releasing Caleb and putting his hands on the sink’s edge instead. “No worries,” he said half-heartedly. It wasn’t that he wanted to push Caleb into something he wasn’t feeling right now, he just… needed distraction. He needed things to keep him awake, and the zombie’s suggestion that he might need to lay down was the exact opposite of what he was looking for. This disappointment was likely reflected in his expression and the way he pushed himself off of the counter, eyes downcast while he moved away from Caleb. “No, it’s…” He couldn’t outright lie, or Caleb wouldn’t understand. But he couldn’t share the whole truth, either. Ugh. “I’m fine. Uh. I was really hopin’ to…” His voice trailed as he glanced around the kitchen, trying to pluck an excuse out of the air. “... this… isn’t about you, cher. I promise. I just need to… be… around people. I don’t want to sleep.” The why, he couldn’t say. “It’s a whole thing, it’s complicated, but… look.” He finally turned back to Caleb, looking apologetic. “Maybe I oughtta go. Again, this ain’t your fault, yeah? I just…” He huffed out an exasperated breath and put on a lopsided smile, stepping closer to Caleb and putting a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t wanna annoy you. I’m glad you’re feelin’ a little better, but I’m not gonna ask you to come with me or do anythin’ you don’t got the energy for. So… I’m gonna go, okay? I’ll text you.” 

Oh, did that offend him? Aesil raised an eyebrow as Wyatt stepped away, the ghost of a smirk once again making an appearance. Was this supposed to be a transaction of sorts? Intimacy for a cooked brain brought to them by a man who was supposed to care, right? Of course, the demon didn’t care, preferred that they keep this distance until they could justify killing one or the other…or both. But Caleb’s sadness was leaking through their mental blocks and it was delicious. They wanted more. 

“Ouch.” They whispered it, letting the hurt they could feel lace into their voice. If nothing else had been convincing that day, they knew this was going to be the winning performance. Even if Wyatt was trying to explain himself and Caleb’s emotions started to turn to worry, Aesil made sure to take another step back from him to cause more of that anguish they had felt seeping in. 

They shrugged his hand off their shoulder and shook their head slowly. “No, you’re right. Maybe you should go. Thanks for the food and everything, I’m sure I’ll feel better soon.” Arms crossed over their chest, the demon tried to school Caleb’s features into feigned indifference all while letting some emotion shine through. They should win a damn Oscar. “How about I text you instead?” 

This was a familiar scene, wasn't it? Wyatt had been here many times before, trying to bridge a gap that had formed swiftly with his careless words. He was so good at saying the wrong thing, at holding back the parts of himself that would be better at explaining these things… Just tell him the truth. Tell him you can't sleep, tell him you're afraid and it's only getting worse, tell him that you just need distractions, that it doesn't matter what form they take—

Instead, the shifter pushed a hand into the pocket of his jacket and stood a little taller, matching the indifference on Caleb's face with his own. Even though it hurt, deep down in places he dared not touch. It was always going to be this way. 

“... yeah. Sure. You text me.” He knew Caleb wouldn’t. He knew that if he walked out that door, it would be the last time he ever saw him, spare maybe the rare run-in in town. Was he okay with that? Did he want to just let the pieces lay where they had fallen on the floor, arranged to discreetly spell out their tumultuous fate like sopping clumps of tea leaves in the bottom of a mug?

That was too many fucking metaphors. 

With pain in his bright eyes, Wyatt turned and left the kitchen, not speaking another word as strode towards the front door, gripping the knob tighter than he should have and closing the door a little rougher than he would have liked.

Whatever. Wasn't the end of the world.

[thccraft]

continuation from here for @inhumanhacker

Watching as the bartender set two beers in front of them, Wyatt gave a thankful nod. Just as he went to reach for the glass, the woman now named Ashley extended a hand to shake. Wyatt took it - completely engulfing her hand with his. "Pleasure. I'm Wyatt." It almost looked like the glass manifested in his grip when he pulled away - the brim reaching his lips. Two gulps and the damn thing was almost empty. "I find a lot of things interesting, Ashley. Let's start off with your job? What do you do?" Almost immediately Wyatt was turned off for the night, but he figured he'd give the woman a chance to pique his interest.

[visceralprayers]

he glanced over his shoulder when he heard someone call to him, the very vital thing missing, however, was his name. he didn't particularly expect anybody in this god awful town to remember him, but he'd enjoyed the two times he'd reminded his high school bullies of who he was. now was extra special, a girl who'd never looked twice at him was attempting to gain his attention. " it's wyatt, wyatt carter, but don't worry, I'll probably forget your name in five too. "

[nightmaretist]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: UMWR PARTIES: Wyatt @loftylockjaw & Inge @nightmaretist SUMMARY: Wyatt has tracked down Inge to her place of work. He means to settle things in his favorite way. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

Once he had a name to put to the face, finding out where she worked was a fairly easy task. A cursory internet search had her pinging on the UMWR website as a member of faculty. Fantastic. He didn’t have much of a plan outside of going to the campus, finding out which room she taught in, and hanging around until she left. He didn’t care if she saw him — in fact he wanted her to. He wanted her to feel the same fear he’d felt when he spotted her in the crowd. He’d make sure she felt it. 

Later that day, maybe twenty minutes or so before her class was supposed to end, Wyatt slipped into the room. Their eyes met almost immediately, but the professor seemed to take a moment to internalize his presence before getting back to her lesson. Wyatt liked to think that she seemed nervous, but that could have just been wishful thinking on his part. He hung around the back of the room, staying well out of the way but still getting curious glances from the students. No one piped up to ask him who he was, perhaps assuming he was there as a friend of Ingeborg’s, or just not caring enough to bother. Either way was good with him. He leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest, his blue gaze fixed on her, unflinching. It was the same woman he’d seen that day he got arrested. The same woman that tormented him night after night. Rage built slowly in his chest, jaw tightly clenching in response. He couldn’t go off on her here. Not now. He knew what would come of that. He could be patient. Maybe. Hopefully.

—

Her classes were restless, with the semester starting up and the walls closing in on Inge. She preferred not to admit it, though, the way this town was starting to feel like a steel trap, the way she was backing herself into a corner by not handing in her resignation and moving away. Stubborn arrogance kept her rooted in place, kept her teaching her classes even if her mind was sometimes elsewhere. Today, though, the things that kept her mind running circles around itself was there, in front of her, rather than nagging in her brain.

Wyatt, the lamia sleeper who’d gotten arrested accosting her, was standing in her classroom. It was no unhappy accident, she knew that the moment she set her sights on him. This was purposeful. She figured this was an ambush of sorts, even if he just stood there, leaning against the wall and watching her. And he’d be right, to think she was nervous — because she was. If she was so easy to find, if it was so simple to intrude into her classroom, then trouble was nipping at her heels. Sometimes it was hard to remember that there was no definitive divide between the realm of dreams and life here on earth, that even though the nightmares were not real there could be true repercussions. But she knew that, now.

There was a slight tremor to her hand, but she turned it in his direction. When she spoke she addressed her students rather than him, though, “This is my friend Wyatt,” she said, “He’s … just here because he’s curious.” It probably wasn’t a lie, though his curiosity was of the dangerous variety. “Pay him no mind at all.” Inge locked eyes with him for a moment before continuing with the material of today’s lecture, her not-heart skipping a not-beat.

—

Wyatt plastered on a pleasant smile as he was addressed and some of the students turned again to look at him. There was no benefit in making himself look dangerous right off the bat, in front of other people that could possibly ID him later. Which they might, when their professor disappeared. That was a bridge he’d cross when he got to it. 

The lamia didn’t budge while the lesson went on, remaining in place as the students were dismissed and got up, gathering their things and slowly trickling out of the room. That’s when Wyatt made his way to the front of the classroom, still wearing that easy, disarming smile. “Hey,” he said in a calm voice, knowing there were still eyes on them. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, you and I.” He kept his body language casual, looking to the other people still vacating the room just as Inge had described him: a friend. “I was hopin’ we could have a real long, calm chat about it. I got me some edification since we last met, and I’d love to hear your side of things, you know what I mean?” He was standing close to her—too close—and grinning in a way that altogether seemed predatory. 

The last set of footsteps wandered out the door and the room fell silent again. They were alone. 

Wyatt’s smile fell. “Where you wanna do this? I got all day.” He’d follow her wherever she went, waiting for the first moment they were truly alone, not just the space between them and the other people in the hall. He remembered what Emilio had said about her touch being able to induce sleep, and took a slight step back, brow raised. “Guarantee you I’m quicker than you are, n’ I got a worse bite. So why don’t you make this easy like, hm? Lead the way.” He gestured at the door, his expression cold.

—

She wanted the class to last forever, for students to straggle behind endlessly and pester her with questions so she had a solid excuse not to engage with the growing threat in the back of the room. Inge clung to her composure but was not sure how much longer she could keep digging her fingers into it before she’d create bruises. This was the second time in one year that people found her place of work who weren’t supposed to. 

Wyatt approached, wearing a sheen of calm that she was certain was feigned and Inge watched her students trickle out of the room before settling her gaze on her opponent. In broad daylight, at her job was not where she wanted this to happen. Hell, she didn’t want it to occur to begin with — she’d had her fun with the dreamer, but now he was awake, intruding on her space, smiling maniacally. He was much prettier when he was resting with his eyes closed or running from her in a dream.

“Hi,” she returned, angling her head slightly so her chin jutted towards him, so she could feel like she was still looking down on him. Even if he was both taller and broader than her. That was quite an issue, as was his insistence on a calm conversation and his promise of a sharp bite. “I think you’re going to have to be more clear than that. I’m not sure what you’re referencing to, nor am I sure what you want to do.” 

Inge gestured at the abandoned stools and chairs in the classroom. “But you can sit down if you can. You look tired.” He didn’t look as tired as he had, that day on the streets. As long as they were talking, he wasn’t biting. “I’m not sure we should be going anywhere.”

—

The self-satisfied sneer on the man’s face gave way to something a little less indulgent and a little more honest. The smirk slowly shrank, eyebrows furrowing as a look of irritation took up residence instead. She was playing dumb, and he didn’t know why. She knew why he was here. She knew what she'd been doing to him all these months because it had been done to her. She knew, and she was just being a fucking bitch about it. You look tired. He wanted so badly to rip her stupid head from her stupid shoulders. 

He looked back at the seat closest to him as she offered, then to her again. “No? Okay. We can wait here. Everyone else will leave eventually.” Classes would end, faculty would head home for the night. It would be just the two of them at some point. Maybe there would be an unfortunate overnight janitor that would also meet an untimely demise, but that was a price Wyatt was willing to pay to be done with this. He wanted his revenge, and he was going to have it. 

The lamia took a seat on a nearby stool, but was still poised to leap to his feet if she made any sudden moves. “I know what you are. What you do to people like me. And I ain't gonna let you fuckin’ kill me.” 

—

This was wont to happen. Though mares did not exist in pop culture the way vampires and zombies did, there were those that knew of their existence all the same. Perhaps that made them easier to believe in than those species that were overexposed in teen shows — especially to those who had come into contact with a mare. Inge wasn’t going to fold so easily, though. To admit that she had been plaguing Wyatt for all these months would just vindicate him, she assumed, and she had no interest in making his sneer any wider.

She was willing to wait until everyone had left the campus, as that was more promising than going to a secondary location. Maybe the lamia could be patient enough to wait until nightfall and then she could just leave and reconsider her life in Wicked’s Rest in the (wobbly) safety of her apartment. Who was to say he couldn’t also figure out that address, after all? A break in into the HR office would be enough to steal her address information.

Inge looked him over as he sat, resting her own buttocks against her desk. He thought she was aiming to kill him and the urge to correct him was hard to resist. She did not feed to kill. She gave her dreams not only because it nurtured her, but because it could nurture them. She was an artist, after all. There was little difference between an inspiring statue and a memorable nightmare.

“What am I?” She’d already revealed that she knew his name, even though they’d never exchanged such pleasantries. Still she played the fool. “And why would I be interested in killing you? I’m an artist, not a murderer. You’re confused, I think.”

—

If Wyatt had not managed to kill so many of his brain cells over the years, he might have had the wherewithal to realize that Inge had used his name — that she knew him. He might have been able to grasp onto the thin strands of truth as they tried to snap in the breeze and cast him off into a confusing, dark abyss. He might not have gotten so angry when she played dumb, instead pointing an accusatory finger at her and shouting A-ha! But I’ve got you! You said my name, how else would you know my name if you were not the mare haunting me! 

But he’d taken many hits to the head since childhood, and had experienced plenty of neuron death. There was no connection made between Inge introducing him to the class and the fact that it proved her guilt, his mind instead entirely consumed by the fury that ignited at her indifference. “I ain’t confused,” he snapped, all his smug satisfaction falling away from him like a tree shedding its last leaves in a harsh winter wind. “You’re killin’ me. Slow, sure, but you know what it’s like to die a slow, sleepless death.” He got up again, unable to remain still while so much anger coursed through him. “I’d’ve let it slide if it was just a handful of times. But it’s been months. Months! You know what you’re doin’ to me.” A slight edge of desperation had slithered its way into his voice, his blue eyes betraying the fear and hopelessness he truly felt. Even if he could stop her feeding, hell, even if she agreed to stop feeding on him, it wouldn’t fix what was done. It wouldn’t make the nightmares stop, it wouldn’t immediately heal the wounds she’d ripped open. That would take time, and he didn’t have time. “So I’m gonna eat you, and it’s gonna make me feel better.” 

—

She did know what it was like to die a slow, sleepless death — though Inge hadn’t known she was dying back when she was being fed on. Even now, she barely thought of it: it was a past long forgotten, the life before her transformation not worthy of any thought. And for all the ways she loved what she had become, she never intended to hand down her gift to a mortal. The reasons remained unexplored, as it was not worth debating why it might be bad to kill someone only for them to return as something else, but her methods remained.

So that begged the question: was Wyatt overreacting, or had she gone too far? His mind had been fraying, that had been made obvious when they’d locked eyes in front of Dolly Parton, but she hadn’t thought she was getting close to pushing him off the edge of mortality. She fed from other humans, she had been occupied with Debbie for a significant portion of time but perhaps she’d gotten greedy. There was something enticing about holding power over a creature physically stronger than her, maybe that was it. Had she gotten too greedy, in her attempt to feel strong? Had the need to feel in control of something larger and more beastly than her blinded her? The threat that he’d eat her reverbated in her hollow chest cavity. 

“You are confused. I don’t mean to kill you. Or anyone, for that matter.” Well, there were some exceptions. She would not weep for Emilio Cortez, still rued the failure of Rhett, would not mind being the final blow in the death of one of her grating colleagues. But she did not mean to kill through dreams. She clenched her jaw with her human, useless teeth. Inge glowered at the lamia. “I’m not doing a thing to you. We are … just conversing, aren’t we? Maybe I look like someone you know, maybe that is why you got confused at the art walk, too. Maybe if you explain it better, I can help you.” Her glower twisted into something more pitiful. “You’re scaring me.” It was a half-lie, though she would not admit that to even herself. 

—

“Stop!” he bellowed, his eyes flashing yellow and teeth sharpening unintentionally. “I ain’t confused!” He’d already shouted that at her. “You’re the woman in my dreams! With the birds, with the—the—” His patience was running thin. Thinking that he’d be able to sit here until they were truly alone had been a pipe dream, of course. Wyatt didn’t have a patient bone in his body, and certainly not when he was face to face with his tormentor. “You’re ruinin’ my life!” One could argue that he was the one doing the ruining, but one could also argue that much of that reckless behavior had come about because he wasn’t in his right mind, because he couldn’t sleep at night. 

He was yelling too much. Someone would come see what was wrong. He needed to calm down. Sucking in a breath through his clenched teeth, the shifter balled his hands into fists at his sides and narrowed his reptilian eyes at Inge.

Patience, baby. Breathe… in, hold… out, hold… in, hold… there you go. See? Don’t you feel better? 

His mother’s voice whispered in his ears and he squinted his eyes shut. He didn’t deserve to remember her advice when he couldn’t take care of her any more, because he’d lost his other fuckin’ job, because this bitch in front of him decided to snack on him a few too many times! The fury was boiling over now, the lid rattling around where it sat as the ingredients that made up this short-fused, violence-driven individual fought to escape the pot.

—

There had been a time where a man bigger and stronger than her yelling like this would have made something kick in. A shiver down the spine, a wish to be swallowed by the earth. Inge no longer had the same response she'd once had, though. Shouting men no longer scared her, though the flash of sharp teeth was a worrying facet of the conversation that was starting to feel more and more like a fight. 

“Ruining your life,” she repeated, as if she had to chew on that. In a way, she did. She did not give her sleepers nightmares with malicious intent, in her mind. Not out of pure necessity either, though, even if there was a need for her to feed off people. She did not intent to ruin this man's life with her nightmares — she meant to elevate it. It seemed he did not feel the same way about her dedication to the craft. If it wasn't for her, he'd just dream of that fighting ring, of his mother, of boring, drab things plucked from real life. If he failed to see it her way, that was his shortcoming. 

Maybe it was time to move on from this poor, unimaginative sleeper. “Fine, yes — it is me, with the birds. So what?” Inge found the confession spilling from her lips rather anticlimactic, but perhaps it would make the man stop yelling. Having one of her annoying colleagues or hell, even Anita rush in would be regretful. She knew Anita was fond of other lamia, after all. “You dream, regardless of me. You dreamed badly. Like someone troubled but … without … any thrill. I don't think I'm deserving being accredited with ruining your life.” People tended to do that all by themselves. She considered the sharp teeth with a level of true envy. Hers were so flat and dull. “I am as some call it a walking corpse. I advise against eating me.” 

—

“You’re a pretentious, overblown bitch is what you are. I didn’t need help with my fuckin’ nightmares. You died because someone else didn’t have the self control to stop when they shoulda. You might think you ain’t done any harm, but lady, I was already a hair’s breadth from fuckin’ snappin’.” His words were sharp and venomous, spat at her feet with finality. “This ain’t art. It’s cruelty.” 

Cruelty was a thing he’d dealt with for much of his life. Sometimes he recognized it, sometimes not, but it was always there. Marcel had been cruel, in his way. He never laid a hand on Wyatt, but he lied and manipulated a child into thinking that violence was the best way to support his family. People he had known in his adult life had been cruel at times. Agnes was cruel, though she helped as much as she hurt, which left the shifter feeling confused and conflicted. But this one? This one was destroying his grip on reality, and seemed to think it wasn’t a big deal. Clearly, the teacher was in need of a lesson. One that Wyatt intended to give, dropping all pretense of just wanting to talk, of doing this quietly or somewhere private, and giving in to his anger and his hurt. He wanted this done. He wanted her gone.

“Don’t care. Eaten dead things before.” 

Wyatt lunged, ducking down low in the hopes that it would help him evade her bare hands and that sleeping touch that Mateo had warned him of. Jaws parted as they elongated, his body shifting completely in the time that it took him to close the distance between them, tattered clothing dangling from the spines that ran along his scales. Teeth scraped over her left leg as he angled his head and bit down, raking across shin, calf, and thigh. He could taste something strange on his tongue as he applied more pressure, pushing up off the floor to stand. He was going to shake her like a dog toy, rip one leg off, then the other. He was going to dismember her completely, and if that didn’t kill her, he’d swallow every last piece. 

As he rose up high into the air, he felt the room spin around him. She was probably trying to put him to sleep, but he’d fight it. He would. Only… it was already becoming difficult to stay upright. Wyatt hissed, dropping onto all fours and giving a weak shake of his head. No. No. I’m so close… She was there in his grasp (quite literally), but he couldn’t press through the desperate need for sleep. Maybe it was worse because he was already so exhausted, but either way, the fighter made little progress in his mission to shred her to pieces, instead sinking back to the floor as everything went dark.

—

“Damn, don't hold back,” she said, eyebrows shot up slightly and expression somewhere between offended and amused. Being called a bitch was familiar territory, but the way he spoke about her death – no, her transformation – was disrespectful at best. And perhaps he was right, perhaps she had done more harm than good, but that had never bothered her much. Though Inge thought her dreams were able of inspiring, she knew what they were: nightmares. Ugly dreams that clung to people like tar. And the fact that they could get so bad that they undead the mental stability of an individual might be considered bad, but it was quite a rush of power. “Who says those can't be synonymous, art and cruelty?” Hirst cut up animals and called it art, after all, and though Inge was no fan of his, he illustrated her thoughts quite well. No birds were hurt in her productions. 

For all her cockiness, there was little she could do to control Wyatt. She hadn't thought he would do it, though, that thing he was threatening: that he would really go for a bite here, in relative public. And so she was too slow to flee from his dive. Not that any preparation would have made her agile enough to evade the MMA fighter who also happened to be a man-eating monster. It happened so fast, so quick and so viciously that Inge barely had time to appreciate the swift transformation. 

Teeth enforced by strong jaws locked onto her leg and bit down and she could not help herself as she screamed. It was a role reversal she did not see often, as there were very few dreamers who had managed to scare her as she had scared them. She found it wholly unfair — what she had done to Wyatt's dreams had been pretend, even if the ramifications had affected his real life. But this? The pain? The wounds being created and worsened? Those were real. Those would scar. (Because they would: Ingeborg came out of every corner she was backed into, without fail. Today was not going to be any different.) 

Through blinding pain she tried to find focus, to remember what she was capable of. Though her body moved on its own accord as Wyatt stood, she still had her hands. She was glad, that she had died before turning forty, that there was still some flexibility to her muscles and she reached for his strange skin, nails digging into him as she gave everything she had to put him down. The more his muscles relaxed, the more her resolve grew and eventually they were both on the ground, her leg still between his jaws.  

It was with moans of pain and tears of frustration that she opened his jaws, straining against the pain coursing through her leg. Inge had been bitten by dogs more times that she'd like to recall, but it was nothing like this. Wyatt had been a desperate, enraged creature, but he had bitten with the focus of a man out for revenge. Whining from pain, she pulled herself towards the classroom door, locking it from the inside and remaining there, waiting for the sun to go down and the astral to become accessible to her once more so she could escape without being seen. 

[wyattxwheeler]

starter for @benjaminxjackson

location: neptune oyster

It wasn't often that Wyatt was getting out anymore. His house was busier than it had been and even before the birth of Mateo Jr, he and Nel had been prepping the house for the baby's arrival. Needless to say, neglect of his friends had been high on the list of things that he was participating in. Not intentionally, by any means, but it had happened. So, with Nel spending time with her sisters, Wyatt had opted to take the chance and see if Benjamin were free. It was near closing time as he walked into Neptune Oyster, letting the hostess know he was there to see Ben, though they recognized him from previous visits. With the direction that Benjamin was in the back office, he headed there, "Hey, stranger," Wyatt lifted his knuckles against the open door, "You holding up alright?"

[ofxkennerxwolves]

closed starter - wyatt @wyatt-guerrera

The night of the Gala was probably as traumatic and messed up as it could ever get with the death of five innocent people and death of OEA and supernatural members alike. The OEA wanted to make vampires, and wolves, and witches and every subsection of the supernatural community as monsters - and with their stunt, it was a way for them to prove it.

He remembered the chaos and the subsequent calm. And now he was groaning as he woke up to light filtering through the blinds which had been opened and a smell of cooking. He opened one eye squinting at the room and looking around before a frown formed on his brows. The surrounding were unfamiliar to Evan, and the fact someone else was there was confusing him even more.

He stretched in the bed rolling from his stomach to lay on his back and glanced down to see his waist covered by a thin sheet. He glanced over to find piles of clothes on the floor and his watch, wallet and phone on the side table next to him. He brought his hand up to rub his eyes. "fuck" he groaned. He couldn't believe he didn't remember anything - he just hoped it was a haze because he woke up and his memory would return.

Evan pulled the sheet over his waist as he moved to get out of the bed and wrapped it around tucking the corning in on itself to secure it. The smell of the food and coffee mixed made his mouth water and he just hoped he was able to enjoy it without feel uncomfortable with his company. Evan moved to the window to look at the view before moving to the door. He inhaled as he reached to open the door.

As he moved towards the smell, he paused when he reached the room and saw another from behind. His eyes narrowed a little as he tried to place the male only for it to register to him and his eyes rolled with a small sigh passing through his lips. As the male turned to face him, Evan looked to his hues. "You..."