#darling dangers

[babyjakes]

got tagged in a little game by @jamneuromain and @nana1000night to list 5 of my (own) favorite fics:

egem | my best writing for sure! features daddies!ari and jakey. heavy on the hurt/comfort.

s&bg | my claim to medfet fame, starring soft!dark!doctors/daddies!steve and bucky. also (unintentionally and unknowingly) my first piss fic.

mess of a lesson | speaking of watersports, here are jakey and ari in a much darker setting. written for one of my recent blurb nights as a random add-in that no one asked for but everyone enjoyed.

darling dangers | still not over dark!best friends!ran and jakey. mean and soft respectively, boy do they make a punishing pair.

and you know, and so do i | never pass up an opportunity to promote this one. deeply personal and one of my favorite writing styles. been playing around with the idea of a sequel, based on phoebe bridgers’ cover of summer’s end.

[qep0ermint]

Oh no! How will Wally the fish defend itself from the terrible anglerfish?! (He can handle it)

[k-wame]

JACOB ELORDI He Went That Way (2023) dir. Jeffrey Darling

[forgrtashes-blog]

Hi ashes! Hope you're having a nice day :)

So...I don't usually see much horror art about Julie, can you draw something like that, please?

AAAAA THIS IS SUCH A SILLY QUESTION- 😭

Hello! Doing just fine right now, thanks for asking! :0]

I did this little drawing for you, since you asked nicely - Hope it's 'horror' enough!

[god-i-hope-so]

Buck receives the call from Tommy's captain himself in the middle of the night, during his shift. He's Tommy's new emergency number, he's also been at the center of a recent discussion with Tommy's captain about it, after years of not having a real emergency number except his closest coworkers.

Buck arrives at the hospital, a little frantic, still in his uniform. He knows it's "not life threatening" but bad enough for Tommy to undergo emergency surgery. Captain Garcia meets him near the lobby, his left hand in a thick bandage, his arm in a sling.

"Firefighter Buckley? Evan Buckley? Captain Garcia. I wish we'd met under different circumstances."

"Captain."

"We were on a fire near the station, the structure collapsed, probably due to a weakness we couldn't see. A rebar went through his thigh, lots of bleeding, but he should be okay."

"Should?"

"I'm not a doctor, son, but I know when a man's dying. And he wasn't."

Captain Garcia is clear and to the point, and Buck appreciates it.

Waiting alone in the lobby of the hospital in the middle of the night wasn't on his plan for this shift. He could have called Maddie but it was 2 am when he got the call. He'll call her later.

Then a woman and two very sleepy young children sit not too far from him. While she settles the kids on the seats next to her, their head on her lap, her eyes land on Buck.

"You're Evan, right?" she asks in a low voice.

Buck is surprised, he doesn't know her, doesn't recognize her face.

"I'm Sophie, er, Dan's wife, Tommy's coworker. They were together when it happened. I know we never met but I've heard of you and Philip- Captain Garcia told me you were already here."

She looks at him with kind eyes behind her tired and worried expression.

"It's- It's nice to meet you, Sophie. I'm sorry, I- I don't-"

"It's alright, I know Tommy is a very private man." She sighs. "He and Dan have been working together for seven years now. Dan has always been the kind to easily befriend people but Tommy was quite the challenge when he was transferred at the station!"

Her smile is genuine. She's picking at her nails, her hands slightly shaking.

"Can I get you something warm to drink?" Buck proposes, already standing up. He needs to move, idly waiting has never been his thing.

"Oh, coffee? Thank you."

"No problem. Anything for them?" he looks at the sleeping children, realizing they're younger than he first thought.

"Water, for later maybe, I don't want to wake them up."

"Of course."

His smile feels stiff on his own face. He shouldn't be here, meeting the wife of Tommy's coworker on the cold plastic seats of the hospital. He should be with his team, sending bad jokes and flirty messages to Tommy who would indulge him.

When he comes back from the vending machine, Sophie is typing on her phone and doesn't see him.

"Here you go," he says softly, not wanting to startle her.

"Thank you." She tastes the coffee, makes a face and sighs. "At least you know the job," she says with a small smile.

"I guess I do. But..."

"I know. It's worse sometimes, because you know what really happens." She lowers her eyes on her coffee cup, swirling the dark liquid in it. Her loose braid slowly comes undone, letting strands frame her face. "Let's meet again around a meal, when our men are better, yes?"

Our men. Buck never thought about Tommy that way, as part of "our men". He nods.

"I'd love that. Thank you, Sophie."

He wonders if that's what if feels to be a "firefighter's wife", to be the partner of a first responder, meeting around unfortunate events and making plans for better days. Sophie shares stories about the station in hushed voice, telling Buck about the people there, the others wives and partners, the children, the parties and the solidarity. Of course, everything sounds very familiar to Buck, but it's like hearing stories from another family.

Then he hears Tommy's name being called and for a second, he feels dizzy. Sophie almost gets up with him then smiles at him. He realizes he didn't ask about Dan, but he'll make sure to stay in touch through Tommy.

The surgeon is in a hurry but takes a few minutes to explain what she did and what will happen next. Tommy will be fine, his leg will recover but the muscle has been badly damaged and it'll take him some time to go back to his daily routine. Even longer before being able to go back to work.

The room is quiet when he enters, safe for a regular and reassuring beep. Buck hesitates a second, seeing Tommy like that feels crushing, even if his sleeping face looks relaxed. His fingers slip into Tommy's hand before gently squeezing it. Feeling his warmth on his palm soothes his nerves.

"Hey, babe."

[sxlamima]

Tsunotaro.... Priorities hun....

[jazzy-a]

Both times Hermes shows up, he always has some secret weapon to arm Odysseus with.

Hermes:

[dangergirl64]

LOOK AT THIS

It's my self-insert OC Danger and my beautiful police husband😭😭

Big thank you to @vxlkt for making this!!❤️❤️❤️❤️

[loveundrwrld]

omg hiiiii i love ur writing smm <33 could i ask for a scenario of tanner x male reader where reader was super shy when he was bullied but years later tanner finds out he's somehow become a badass gang leader who wouldn't hesitate to beat his ex-bully up... i wonder what tanner's reaction would be to that hehe

also can i be 💖 anon? once again thank u <33

how sweet of you to say, thank you!! and to both your questions- yes, you may :) 💖 anon you shall be!

i will say, in his intro, seeing his darling act so reclusive and anxious after high school was what triggered him to rethink his actions- he wouldn't be quite as submissive towards him at first with his darling if he didn't go through that revelation. so tanner is a bit bitchy here since the "why is y/n acting like that"-> "oh no i've hurt him bad haven't i"-> "i'm in LOVE with him" process hasn't happened here.

thus, tanner is still in denial here :p and not as patient with his darling as he typically is

---

yandere ex-bully x gang leader male reader

(cws: violence (not against reader), organized crime, bullying, yandere is victim blaming, stalking)

tanner thought about you more often than he would ever care to admit. the shy, nervous boy he met in school who would cower from him like a scared puppy. something about you just made his hackles rise- he felt strange every time he'd seen you mumble and blush around him.

the strange feeling was annoyance, surely. you had been asking for attention, looking and acting the way that you did. you were always so shy and deferential around other people, always going along with being the butt of the joke. it was only natural that you were picked on a little.

but he'd matured since high school. he knew that bothering people and playing pranks on them was immature, no matter if you were basically asking for it. and if he'd seen you now he's sure you two would be polite and civil. you'd simply laugh and agree with him that he was a dick, and then you two could be best friends.

... or something. it wasn't like he thought about what meeting you again would be like.

and it was normal for people that went to the same high school to want to be curious about what their fellow past classmates had been up to, so he'd done some simple digging on you out of curiousity. nothing out of the ordinary. but you'd seem to have gone completely off the map, he'd not been able to find anything about you.

he was agitated that he couldn't learn more. he was worried for your safety, was all. i mean, you never posted anything online. for all he knew you could be dying or something. it was natural that he'd feel anxious right now.

but, he simply had to give up. he'd been trying to approach it from different angles, but he'd accepted that he'd reached a dead end.

except... until now. he was idly slouched over on the couch in front of his television, the news on as background noise. then, he perked up when he saw a familiar face come up on the screen.

it was your face that was glaring into the camera with a look of pure hatred, one that you certainly didn't have when he knew you.

good lord, what the hell happened to you?

"suspected gang activity in eastcliff- residents beware," the graphic read at the bottom of the screen.

he rushed to his laptop, wanting to check the arrest records for your shared state. he hadn't even considered this when he was looking up where you had been, it would have never have occurred to him that you would have gotten yourself in that much trouble.

and once the full report had loaded up? yes, it seemed that you actually were a criminal. you were arrested on a few charges but they got mysteriously dropped due to "unforeseen circumstances."

you hadn't been convicted of any felony charges yet, but he could tell that you were indeed involved in organized crime... somehow. and quite awfully high up in it, if you had corrupt police officers helping you escape any justice at all. it would have seemed like a laughable idea to him before, but he couldn't argue with what was right in front of him.

tanner scrunched his face up, his mind feeling blank from shock. how could this have happened? how could someone like you end up with such an... exciting life? how could you have turned out even more dangerous than him? his mouth felt dry, as a sense of bitterness seeped into him.

he didn't even know how to see what you were up to, to see why you turned out the way you did. surely you must have been forced into it. you couldn't have changed so much so fast otherwise. you were just a puppet with a nice face for the real people on top, obviously.

he felt a bit of bitter agitation, and tapped his leg as he thought. he couldn't live his whole life in mystery. he needed to know more about you.

there was one thing he could try...

---

it seems that his gambit to getting information about you had got your attention.

though, nothing could have prepared him from seeing you in front of him. you glared at him fiercely, your face so close to his that he felt your hot breath on his skin.

the eyes that used to be wide and quivering when you were younger were now narrowed and sharp. all he could see was the ice cold rage on your face. it was disorienting, to you someone shift into such a completely different person that you were nearly unrecognizable.

from a little puppy of a boy... to a fearsome wolf.

"of all the things you could do, tanner, you called my mother? don't you dare fuck with her," you growled at him, tugging hard at his shirt.

since when did you get balls? he felt that bubbling uneasy feeling he used to get whenever you were around him... only this time, it was stronger. he didn't like how this new you was effecting him.

you seemed much more dangerous than he was... and he didn't like it. wasn't it him who used to intimidate you? whatever happened to that?

he tried to laugh back at you, trying to stuff away any strange urges his brain was throwing at him.

"oh, come on- y/n, fuck with her? you're acting like i was trying to hurt her or something. i just called her. listen i know i was kind of a dick but really, you're making me out as the bad guy here and-"

you clocked him, hard on his temple. tanner stopped rambling and let out a small groan, the sharp throbbing pain causing him to fall down to one knee.

he opened his mouth to talk, but before he could say anything, you were already leaning down in his face.

"i don't want to hear from you ever again, you piece of shit. don't call or talk to me or my mother if you want all of your limbs intact. you may not know this, but i'm a big deal around here now. do not fuck with me," you say, your voice thick with anger.

for some reason... it felt like sparks and butterflies were running through him. something snapped inside his brain, connecting things. it occurred to him sudden why he had always felt so strange about you, why he was so obsessed with you.

you were hot. and this new you? strangely, he didn't dislike it at all.

"... got it," he said, breathily.

though, he didn't intend on keeping his promise.

[koifsssh]

here is my slow spiral into insanity (ft. clownsuu & foxyd101)

first of all, thank you all who joined! it was very fun! i had lots of laughs! thank you clownsuu for being so funny, i hope that danny & robbie continue being karaoke buddies!

(very long post! beware! there’s a lot of sketches here!)

(danny hasn’t even been an oc for very long... and already sentenced to jail for accidental murder? shame...)

(howdy is crying from the beautiful duet! not pain! i assure you!)

i have... saved all the images from the whiteboard, and while i don’t think i’ll upload those that aren’t mine and/or those i haven’t drawn with as well (or actually i might not upload all for the sheer fact that it was a lot more than i initially thought and i dont wish for this to get too long) i DO have to bring light to THIS ONE BWAHAHA???

(this one too!!!)

(little dust bunny, hahaha)

additional thank you to @foxyd101​ for staying with me for so long that i passed out! bwhaha! i’m so sorry for falling asleep on you!

[babyjakes]

Not gonna lie… I love your account and there is that one specific oneshot I read over and over and over and over again. This is so good and I just can’t get enough of it, even though I know most of it without reading already but damm…. This is just sooooo good!

Talking about: https://www.tumblr.com/babyjakes/696961081657147392/title-%EF%BE%9F

Call me a slut I will agree! Especially when it comes to them. To their actions… to that one-shot. I’m on my knees, so thank you for the amazing work!🩷❤️

oooh oh oh! i'm so so glad you enjoyed darling dangers, jakey and ran were such a fun pair of menaces to write!! the idea of that pairing and premise were pretty random but i'm sure glad i ended up exploring it, their dynamic was just 😮‍💨😮‍💨 too good, i loooove soft!concerned!sort of stern!jakey and big mean bully!ransom,, they play off each other so well don't you think 🙂‍↕️ thankyou for sending in your thoughts friend!! what a kind ask, this meant a lot to me!! 🩷

[welcomehomeincorrectquotes]

Doctor Clef: *is strumming the ukelele in the break room when his phone rings* Hm?

Doctor Clef: *picking it up* Hello-

Doctor Kondraki: *loud enough for the entire room to hear* Why the HELL did you tell 34779-A that BDSM stands for Burgers, Drinks & Salsa Music?! He just tried to invite Jack and Simon to come to a BDSM party!

Doctor Clef: *doesn't want to admit that he just felt uncomfortable explaining that to 'the kid'* ...I thought it was hilarious.

Doctor Kondraki: YOU- What was that, Walls? *Wally's mellow voice is heard but not clear enough for Clef to understand*

Doctor Kondraki: *in a fatherly voice* Yes, yes, okay, I'll explain it to you in a sec. *to Clef* We are NOT done talking about this. *hangs up*

[jazzzzzzhands]

Ohh i could not stop thinking about the one commercial with the Wally plush!! Where he says "Groovy", "Far out", and such!! And if you look up "70's background" There is just soooo much aesthetic suiting of Wally!! So i really really wanted to dress him up in some Groovy clothes!! The fish shoes were his original shoes, but i made them an alt cause they are hard to draw! pfffft! Wally can Dance! He can teach You how to Dance!

Alternate blue glasses, i could not decide on the color of his John Lennon's, so he can have many pairs! Oh and he definitely has a wide wardrobe!!

[fidesvirtusobsession]

Welcome to Aetheris Academy, the place where brilliance and obsession collide.

Step into the hallowed halls of Aetheris Academy, a prestigious institution where only the most exceptional students are chosen to study and hone their craft. Known for its rich history, rigorous curriculum, and unmatched reputation, Aetheris is a place where the best and brightest gather—but not everything is as perfect as it may seem. Behind the polished exterior, there are whispers, secrets, and dangerous desires lurking just beneath the surface.

Meet (Y/n) - The Newest Student at Aetheris

Our newest arrival? (Y/n). A seemingly ordinary student—bright, kind, and full of potential. But fate has a way of playing tricks, doesn’t it?

When (Y/n) landed at Aetheris, they weren’t exactly prepared for the complex web of emotions and twisted relationships they would soon find themselves tangled in.

They thought they were merely here for a fresh start—an opportunity to escape their past and chase their dreams. But little did they know, Aetheris Academy’s students have a way of getting under your skin in more ways than one.

As (Y/n) navigates their first year, they will encounter not just brilliant minds, but also the haunting obsession of those who call this place home. Friendships, rivalries, and infatuations will soon blur the lines between loyalty and obsession, and it’s only a matter of time before the intensity of this elite institution begins to seep into every corner of their life.

But who exactly are these people? And why does (Y/n) feel like someone—or something—might be watching their every move?

The Dark Secrets of Aetheris:

Aetheris Academy isn’t just known for its world-class education—its students, many of them seemingly charming and polite on the surface, carry with them a darker side. Rumors swirl around the halls of possessive love, hidden motives, and a level of admiration that can quickly turn into something much more dangerous.

(Y/n) is about to learn that in a place like this, friendship is rare, and love can come with a price—one that they may not be prepared to pay.

What’s it like at Aetheris?

You’ll find yourself captivated by the beauty, the grace, and the fierce dedication of those who walk these halls. But beware, beneath the polished smiles and perfect postures, a fierce obsession brews just waiting to consume anyone caught in its gaze.

Stay close to (Y/n) as they uncover the secrets of Aetheris Academy and the complex, often dangerous relationships between its students. Will they survive the academy's twisted grasp, or will they become just another piece in the deadly game they play?

Welcome to Aetheris. You’ll never quite escape once you step inside.

"Sapientia et Potentia" — Knowledge and Power

The Aetheris Academy Student Registry

[chipper-smol]

It is refreshing to make a character who is irredeemably antagonistic. No reasons, no agenda, no disorders, no awful backstory, they’re just like that

bonus if they’re not evil for the sake of it and genuinely believe their actions are justified

10/10 would recommend as a character foil for your nearest OC protagonist to make you invested in their success

[merakiui]

ALIEN SCARAMOUCHE WITH OVIPOSITION MERA ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME 😭 I need more, what would he look like, what are his motivations... Omg... Maybe some kidnapping going on...some experiments on humans...him studying how humans reproduce and if his race can use them... Aaaa my mind is going crazy with ideas, please do share yours too! <3

What if he doesn’t have a form of his own (something that sort of ties into canon Scaramouche’s obsession with wanting a heart and a purpose)? And maybe he’s more like a shadowy mass that can take the form of anything so long as he’s encountered said thing (i.e. made contact with it? Or maybe he has to kill the original in order to take its form? Or it’s something like a reflection where if you happen to look at him long enough he’ll have a good enough idea of how to replicate your form from staring and analyzing it.) and since he’s so dedicated to having a form that really fits, that truly feels like him, he’s continued to adapt and evolve as the years pass throughout every planet in the solar system.

Perhaps he does have a few features of his own, but maybe they’re sort of scattered?? Or they aren’t really features his species is known to have? He’s like a mixture of various things he’s observed over the time he’s spent on your planet in an effort to shape himself into something beyond the formless shadow he’s lived as for so long. Like a patchwork copycat composed of so many different parts because he’s desperately trying to understand all of these things. It’s like his version of trying on clothes and new fashion styles. So maybe he has horns or maybe cat ears because he’s seen so many stray cats and they’ve always fascinated him for some unexplainable reason (maybe in order to have these features he’s had to ingest part of the living thing he wants to replicate??? Just something a little extra horrifying for our beloved alien mouchey. <3) And maybe the only thing he has from the one who created him (Ei) is the same piercing stare in a pair of brilliantly colored eyes she graciously bestowed upon him.

Maybe Scaramouche can’t understand human emotion in the usual sense that other humans might, so he assigns flavors to these unusual feelings. When he hurts the things he likes or is interested in (cats, the human he stole his current appearance from (i.e. Kabukimono; let’s pretend they’re two separate individuals hehe), and even other gentle things or creatures who are completely innocent), the taste in his mouth is sour or bitter or so very intolerable. I think over time he hardens himself and learns to live with the foul flavors he often encounters when he attempts to blend in with humans and utterly fails because he can never replicate their emotions as well as he can copy behaviors or appearances. He starts his journey so curious and sweetly innocent, albeit murderous and eerie, and he tries so hard to learn and be good and explore the world with the eyes his mother gifted him and yet he always finds himself hurting. He hates it. It tastes terrible. It feels terrible, and he has never truly felt before. This is new.

When Scaramouche is captured by Dottore, a human scientist who is a little too dedicated to the pursuit of forbidden knowledge, he finally tastes the cruelty of humankind—learns of the lengths they’ll go to in the name of scientific breakthroughs. The researchers run dozens of tests on him. He can’t feel external or internal pain from wounds or injuries; he’s sturdy, birthed from a substance foreign to humans, intended to survive the harshest conditions. But Scaramouche feels pain—the emotional kind. He’s never felt fear; he’s what humans would call an apex predator. He’s strong. He’s never needed to feel fear, and so he doesn’t fear the unknown. He isn’t scared of the sharp tools, of the peculiar creatures he’s shown in hopes that he might replicate them and their features, nor does he fear the trajectory of this new life. The concept of ethical practices means nothing to him even though he’s aware he’s a lab rat, a grotesque curiosity that doctors poke and prod at. He reacts to everything in unique, defensive ways. He impaled a doctor through the throat with a strange shadowy spike. It moved as though it were liquid, yet it struck very solidly, sharply, deadly efficient. Dottore likens its movements and behaviors to that of an octopus’s tentacle; Scaramouche is unsure of this comparison. This is merely a shadow of something he has observed—a reflection. A cheap copy. He has never been original.

You’re the first human he meets who isn’t adorned in sterile white. No lab coat, no gloves, no goggles, no protective gear. Just clothes. Normal clothes. The both of you are separated by indestructible glass, placed in two very white rooms, and you can see one another so clearly. Scaramouche hates the purity of white because he knows that when he’s forced into a white backdrop he’s meant to stain it red. And lately he doesn’t want to break things that are undeserving of it. Perhaps he’s feeling too much. Perhaps he ought to tear these human feelings out and go back to the blank, shadowy slate he once was. How he intends to accomplish that, he has no idea.

He’s uninterested in you at first. You’re a human. He’s seen humans. He interacts with them daily. He’s killed plenty. But you spend nights in that white room and he watches you sleep. He tries to sleep in the same way you do; he has no need for sleep. He regulates his energy differently. He tries to breathe like you. He blinks at the same times you blink—or he comes awfully close. He tries to copy your movements and mannerisms. One night he presses himself to the glass and takes your form and watches you, counting every rise and fall of your chest as you lie so comfortably on the very uncomfortable cot. With hands that mirror yours, he pokes at these human features. He fits one hand in the other and pretends he’s holding your actual hand. There is no warmth, though. Humans are warm; Scaramouche is not. He’s frigid. His home planet is gloomy and cold and desolate. He thinks humans are lucky for cyclical days—for being in close proximity to the sun. There is no sunshine where he hails from. He likes the way the sun feels on him. It used to burn terribly when he first arrived on this planet. Now it’s like a hug—a hug that still singes, but a hug nonetheless. He’s never known what a hug is, but he thinks this is what it must feel like—like the burning warmth of a sun.

Scaramouche feels true, raw, animalistic, paralyzing fear when you’re taken out of the room after two weeks and replaced with a new human. You’re gone. Replaced. Are you dead? Did he kill you? Did he stare too long? He’s distraught, overcome with a horrifying emotion that has him curled and trembling in the corner of his white room (a cage if he’s ever known one). Why aren’t you here? And why is he so…restless? He can’t call it fear because he doesn’t know that word. But oh he’s scared. He’s so scared. You were the first human to smile at him, to put your hand on the glass where his rested, to sit close to the glass and eat meals alongside him. You were like the stray cats he’s interacted with: kind, soft, gentle, sweet. He’s so scared he loses the ability to remain in his human skin, and he practically melts into a shadow, clinging to the corner like glue or slime. He’s empty and alone. It tastes terrible. It feels terrible.

The humans that follow are terrified of him. Either that or they’re disgusted, baffled, cautious. He hates every one of them, so much so that he’s tried to break through the glass numerous times to dispose of them. Weeks pass; he’s forgetting your features. There are no mirrors here, so he must rely on the reflections shown in the glass. Some days he thinks he looks just like you; other days he’s certain he’s a monstrosity—a sloppily stitched version of you. The you he saw did not have pointed fangs or curling horns. He hates his reflection because it isn’t you. Most importantly, he hates that the humans he’s forced to look at are protected by this thick layer of glass. If it wasn’t so indestructible, he’d tear through every human nuisance until he reaches you.

Scaramouche is not sure how many months pass, but you return. And when you do the fear ebbs away. He feels…happy? Is that the right term? He’s pleased to see you, and for the first time in a while he returns to his human appearance—to the one he took from a young man many centuries ago. You’re back. You’re here. He’s so happy. He detaches himself from his corner and he tries to smile in the way you do. And, though it’s awkward and strange and sharp-toothed, you smile right back.

Dottore decides then that you are to be the next subject in this experiment. He’s observed Scaramouche’s reactions to you and compared them to reactions to the other humans and found that you are the best suited to this role. If anything, the alien couldn’t have picked a better specimen to adore. You’re helpless and so naïve. You need the money; it’s why you allowed yourself to live in that room for a few weeks. You were paid handsomely for it. He’ll pay you beyond handsomely if you agree to what’s next. And, really, when you’re in between a predator’s jaws do you really have much of a choice?

Scaramouche needs a human match, and the scientists need to study more than just the social biology of an alien. They promise you he won’t hurt you, and if he does it’s all right. They’re kind enough to respect the wishes of the dead. You must let Dottore know if you’d prefer a burial or a cremation. There’s nothing special in this distinction; it’s just a precautionary measure. You’ll agree to participate in this experiment whether or not you want to.

Your new home is the white room that faces Scaramouche, and after some more time and observations to ensure you won’t be killed the moment you step foot in his space the glass barrier will be lifted. Dottore wonders how Scaramouche’s kind mates and reproduces.

There’s only one way to find out.