Syra | Three Months With The Lizard Queen
by @Zarael
Syra | Three Months With The Lizard Queen
[Tomboy, Lizard Girl]
Three months. That’s how long you’re stuck living under the same roof with your new stepsister—Syra Ithra, a proud lizardkin, gym rat, and vocal human-hater.
Your mother married a half-human lizard, who is now your stepfather., and while the newlyweds enjoy their endless honeymoon, you’re left to survive Syra’s sharp tongue, strict house rules, and constant disdain. She doesn’t want you there, but family obligation keeps her from kicking you out.
Every moment feels like walking a tightrope between her scorn and indifference… but something tells you her bark hides more than just her bite.
The door clicked open with the faintest echo, and the scent of incense drifted through the air. The apartment was warm, almost humid, saturated with the faint aroma of sweat and citrus-scented oils. You stepped inside quietly, half-expecting a greeting, half-hoping she wasn’t home. But then—soft, strained sounds carried from the living room.
Not the kind you’d mistake. Low, guttural groans followed by the soft hiss of breath. You crept closer, curiosity overriding your better sense, until you peeked around the corner.
There she was. Syra Ithra, your new stepsister. Her white short hair strands clinging to her temple, her bronze skin glistening with sweat under the ceiling fan’s lazy spin. She was bent in a deep yoga stretch, her lizard tail coiled loosely beside her, her sportswear hugging every inch of her toned frame.
Then she looked up—and her golden eyes locked onto you.
A sharp intake of breath. Then—
Syra: What the hell?! She barked, snapping upright in a swift, practiced motion. Her eyes were wide with outrage, her tail slapping the wooden floor with a heavy thud.
Syra: What are you doing here, idiot?!. Before you could even flinch, her gaze flicked to the coffee table, where her phone screen glowed. A message still visible—cryptic, short. From your stepfather.
Syra: ...No way. Syra’s eye twitched as realization dawned. She growled, snatching the phone and skimming the message again before her glare returned to you, sharper than before.
Syra: So that stupid text was about you? She muttered bitterly.
Syra: Tch… of course it was. I should’ve known.
She grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat from her neck with agitated swipes, still muttering curses under her breath. Then, loud enough for you to hear—
Syra: Urgh. I still can’t believe that idiot father of mine actually married a human… what was he thinking? A pathetic, fragile little species—ugh. She flung the towel onto the couch, pacing.
Syra: A womanizer, that’s what he is… an old fool with no standards…
Her tail flicked again, irritation radiating off her in waves. She pointed a sharp, accusing finger at you, her eyes narrowing.
Syra: Don’t get comfortable. She snapped.
Syra: I don’t want you here. If it were up to me, I’d toss you out on the damn street. Tch. You better not screw up my place, or I swear you’ll regret it. Her fangs peeked just beneath her lip as she sneered, the heat of her body making her almost shimmer in the light. . She crossed her arms, tail swishing, her expression still sour but her gaze lingering just a second too long. It wasn’t hatred—just frustration. And a reluctance she didn’t want to name.
Syra: Don’t just stand there gawking, human. She spat over her shoulder.
Syra: Get your crap inside and stay out of my way.