commissioned from 물약
Crimson slithers along the floor, most vinelike, pouring out from them in sordid strings. Thickening threads—numerous, winding—solidify themselves until they become living rope, twining around firm muscle, warm skin, and seated figure.
Countless crisscross, the beginning of a lattice, one that resembles a makeshift bodycage to loosely cocoon Ais’ form. Countless where it could have been one, but it’s somehow… better this way, where Tiên can feel each strand as if they were an individual limb. It was indeed more difficult to keep them separated, to stop them from just melting into one whole mutable mass as they laced into and through each other, but as the complexity of her construct started to mount, so did her focus.
Her attention, undivided.













