#eyeing the scales very suspiciously

[mzyraj]

Tfw unexplained weight loss but you don't feel like you can really raise it with doctors because even with it you're still very overweight if no longer officially obese 🤔

[elizzsush]

Merfolk Courting Rituals | TWST

Octavinelle Dorm X Reader

Azul X Reader, Jade X Reader, Floyd X Reader,

---- Merfolk typically have instinctual ways they begin 'courting' or a relationship, in the deep sea you need to be sure of your partner after all. (Non-Human courting rituals part 2/3)

Savanaclaw Ver. | Diasomnia Ver.

Floyd:

It was spring when it happened. Almost summer. The days we’re warming up and everyone was suffering a bit for it.

Usually, you would be able to go about your business alone, or perhaps with the company of Grim if he felt like it. Today however, a certain eel was towering over your shoulder. “Shrimpy~” he’d giggle, a shiver was sent down your spin at his voice.

You slowly turned around. “A-ah? Hey Floyd…” you smiled warily. You usually, like most people in school, avoided the eel like the plague. He flashed his sharp teeth at you and extended his hand, the other one in his pocket in a more relaxed manner then your posture.

“A tooth…?” You squinted at the item, it was pointy: like his own teeth.

Realistically, you didn’t really wanna hold this. Not that you’d tell him that. You glanced up at him again and saw those same teeth, not a single one out of place. “Do ya like it?~”

He leaned closer to your face, his eyes widened ever so slightly in a more intimidating manner. Clearly his lack of personal space had never changed. “Um… yes! I do…?!” You were quick to awnser back.

Pleased with himself, he giggled loudly and walked away.

What was that about?

After that he’d keep approaching you with odd gifts… at one point he presented you with the largest pearl you’ve ever laid your eyes on and then the next day he gifted you with a handful of beautiful scales.

You dreaded to think about the poor mer behind that gift…

Either way, this was suspicious, right? When Floyd leech approached you, you either run away or get squeezed, why were you getting gifts? It also didn’t help your relationship with the Housewarden of Heartslabyul, who now avoids you like the plague.

Seriously, when you walk into a room Riddle happened to be in, he jumps up and leaves immediate- sometimes even running away like you were his tormentor instead of Floyd!

You’d also noticed that Floyd would yawn more around you… You didn’t think you were boring either because he wouldn’t be around you if you were boring to begin with! “Are you getting enough sleep?”

“Eh? Shrimpy doesn’t like me?” Floyd pouted, You noticed him glance at your mouth breifly. “Shrimpy~ that’s rude.” He’d whine louder, a darker look in his eyes than usual. You had no clue if you had offended him or not that time…

Another time was this happened. It actually happened far more often than you would think or enjoy.

“Shrimpy~” he’d say repeatedly to annoy you while you walked around school. Like when a sibling kept poking at you and claiming they weren’t touching you, but he had his hands behind his head as he followed behind you a bored expression on his face. He had been hanging around you more.

Sadly that meant your friends were less likely to approach you. And if they did it was because they neglected to see the towering eel boy.

“My, My, Floyd had taken quite a liking to you.” Jade stated offhandedly one day. You were at the Mostro Lounge (Azul was tired of Floyd skipping work and offered you free meals to hang out so Floyd would get back to work.)

You glanced at the Eel with a confused look. “What do you mean?” He simply looked down at the small necklace you had made with Floyd’s… gifts of a tooth and scales. I’m your defense they made very nice jewelry. Was it a bit messed up to be wearing some students scale and possibly their tooth? Perhaps… but you were poor and wanted something nice to wear.

With the same odd mysterious smile, Jade was off to serve the next costumer.

So you took it upon yourself to figure out what that meant!

First you went asking around Octavinelle. This was a bad idea because most students avoid you like you were Floyd.

Thankfully you managed to corner one, A trembling student you was glancing behind and around you the whole while you talked to him. "So?" You finally asked, a hand on your hip.

"Uh... What? C-could you repeat the question...?" He finally looked to you.

"Whats up with Floyd!" You finally snapped a bit, with a groan and a small eyeroll you glared at the smallfry.

"A-aren't you his...?"

"What on earth does that mean..." You groaned in annoyance too yourself. You were still, very, extremely lost.

Jade:

Whatever do you mean? You started courting him first if he wasn’t mistaken.

It was a Monday afternoon during autumn you believed, when he was serving you in the Mostro Lounge while you were studying. (They had a exclusive deal that lasted only that day) It was pretty late and so, you, like a very normal human, yawned. “My, If I’m not mistaken this is hardly that time of year.” He replied slyly as he gave you your half off drink.

You just glanced at him in confusion as he bowed and excused himself, ever the polite waiter.

That was… odd.

What was stranger was, now Jade has this habit of gifting you things he found on his hikes. It started with a flower to then a mushroom and for some reason he had gifted you a rock? He said he found it “fascinating” So he gifted it to you.

You didn’t really know either…

This whole issue began to intimidate you. I mean, Jade leech, gifting you things? There had to be some kind of motive behind it! There is always a motive behind the Octa-trios advances.

So, not wanting to owe him anything, you began gifting him things in return. “I found this at the store and thought you might like it.” You’d smile warily and a bit nervously as you extended a hand, in it a Dorsel Fin candy.

He’d smile and accept your gift, you’d breath a sigh of relief and go about your day as usual. At least now you didn’t owe him anything!

Now it became a habit, or a fun little game! Whenever Jade would gift you something, you’d look for something of equal value or better! Something he’d like. You’d attempt to one up him, but it was as if he knew about your game somehow and wasn’t letting you win.

Eventually it started to become something else, he was just... always there now? You'd turn around and almost scream! Because: was he there the whole time?

The worst part? He helped you so much more than half the time you turned around, and he wasn't there, you wished he was. He was making your life harder by not being there!

Here is the thing, you can't just get someone use to having a nice, helpful helping hand who is also attractive and then just take that away! Its inhumane.

You gifted him a terrarium you made yourself.

You didn't know why you did it. Maybe you liked his company and wanted to show your appreciation, maybe it was just because you were fond of him.

It was pretty out of the blue as well. You had been working on it for a week now, it wasn't anything remotely at Jade's own level but it was nice. (It better have been because that hike to gather everything almost killed you.)

Was it worth it? Yes. Seeing his eyes widen slightly before he regained his composure was absolutely worth it. He almost had to cough into his hand in Suprise.

Jade wasn't the most expressive, but you had a few ideas of what his Suprise would be look like. "Do you like it?"

"I do perfect. Thank you."

Note: Jade will never confess. It'll be one of those relationships where you don't know how it started but now your married so... Have fun!

Azul:

He was hopeless. Everybody knew this simple fact, except of course: you.

He was a businessman, not a... romance man!

From the way he'd tug at his tie like it was choking him when you were around, to how flushed he'd get when you even glanced in his direction. This guy was absolutely hopeless.

He actually turned... A very bright red was he turning purple as well? and immediately fixes his posture when you're in the room.

Thankfully, it takes two to tango and you were interested in him as well.

So, yeah, it was up to you to pursue the shady businessman who isn't very shady around you and instead acts like, in his own words, "an idiot."

So, no... he doesn't exactly court you. You court him.

You bring him cool things you find, blabber on about what you like and what you think he would like. He was... very confused and flustered, but happy you were there.

It was only after you took an active role in the relationship that he relaxed slightly and began to play along. Giving gifts back and ranting about the business and some poor unfortunate soul he scammed helped.

As everything began to relax in your guy's relationship. It got too comfortable, well, comfortable wasn't the right word. He was comfortable, you were suffering.

Why wasn't he making a move?! Didn't he like you?

Meanwhile, he was feeling pretty good. Jade and Floyd had gotten to a place where they don't tease him as much about not being able to make a move with you. (He didn't you made all the moves.) And his crush was showering him with attention!

You'd glance at him nervously while you sat at Mostro Lounge. He was counting his contracts. His new ones he had started to reaccumulate.

You physically couldn't hold it back anymore. It had been a week. A whole week of nothing new happening between the two of you. The words fell from your lips fast, like rushing water you tried to hold back but couldn't. It would have always slipped through the cracks in your fingers anyway... So you asked him, the burning question. "I like you. Do you like me...?" You finally blurted out.

"What?" He froze up. His head whipping in your direction he didn't know what to do or say and- he was ruining this wasn't he?

Azul had always been an anxious boy, it helped him- Because despite those anxieties he'd show them. he'd overcome them! He always had. But what do you do exactly when the person your heart has been beating oddly for asked that?

"I- um..." was all you needed before you stood up and left. Trying to fight back the small burn that began in your eyes before you cried. "Wait!" He called out but you had been out the door far too soon to even remotely hear him.

It was... a whole thing. He hated it, you hated it, and despite him refusing to admit it, you both cried over it. You always did love the classic miscommunication trope. But it happened. And frankly, you' prefer it this way in the long run. Because when everything was cleared up...

You got to kiss the octopus boy!

A smile on your face when you pulled away, he stared at you slightly shocked but very happy.

In a side note, after you kissed him, he wondered around aimlessly for a good while before he broke out of whatever spell you put him under. (You're still the magicless perfect of ramshackle...)

___________

Note: Floyd is my favorite. I hope you could tell lol Do I adore Azul? Yes! Was he the last one I wrote so it was kind of rushed and not very long? Also yes... I tried to make it a bit special-er?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

What kind of bubble is AI?

My latest column for Locus Magazine is "What Kind of Bubble is AI?" All economic bubbles are hugely destructive, but some of them leave behind wreckage that can be salvaged for useful purposes, while others leave nothing behind but ashes:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Think about some 21st century bubbles. The dotcom bubble was a terrible tragedy, one that drained the coffers of pension funds and other institutional investors and wiped out retail investors who were gulled by Superbowl Ads. But there was a lot left behind after the dotcoms were wiped out: cheap servers, office furniture and space, but far more importantly, a generation of young people who'd been trained as web makers, leaving nontechnical degree programs to learn HTML, perl and python. This created a whole cohort of technologists from non-technical backgrounds, a first in technological history. Many of these people became the vanguard of a more inclusive and humane tech development movement, and they were able to make interesting and useful services and products in an environment where raw materials – compute, bandwidth, space and talent – were available at firesale prices.

Contrast this with the crypto bubble. It, too, destroyed the fortunes of institutional and individual investors through fraud and Superbowl Ads. It, too, lured in nontechnical people to learn esoteric disciplines at investor expense. But apart from a smattering of Rust programmers, the main residue of crypto is bad digital art and worse Austrian economics.

Or think of Worldcom vs Enron. Both bubbles were built on pure fraud, but Enron's fraud left nothing behind but a string of suspicious deaths. By contrast, Worldcom's fraud was a Big Store con that required laying a ton of fiber that is still in the ground to this day, and is being bought and used at pennies on the dollar.

AI is definitely a bubble. As I write in the column, if you fly into SFO and rent a car and drive north to San Francisco or south to Silicon Valley, every single billboard is advertising an "AI" startup, many of which are not even using anything that can be remotely characterized as AI. That's amazing, considering what a meaningless buzzword AI already is.

So which kind of bubble is AI? When it pops, will something useful be left behind, or will it go away altogether? To be sure, there's a legion of technologists who are learning Tensorflow and Pytorch. These nominally open source tools are bound, respectively, to Google and Facebook's AI environments:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/18/openwashing/#you-keep-using-that-word-i-do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means

But if those environments go away, those programming skills become a lot less useful. Live, large-scale Big Tech AI projects are shockingly expensive to run. Some of their costs are fixed – collecting, labeling and processing training data – but the running costs for each query are prodigious. There's a massive primary energy bill for the servers, a nearly as large energy bill for the chillers, and a titanic wage bill for the specialized technical staff involved.

Once investor subsidies dry up, will the real-world, non-hyperbolic applications for AI be enough to cover these running costs? AI applications can be plotted on a 2X2 grid whose axes are "value" (how much customers will pay for them) and "risk tolerance" (how perfect the product needs to be).

Charging teenaged D&D players $10 month for an image generator that creates epic illustrations of their characters fighting monsters is low value and very risk tolerant (teenagers aren't overly worried about six-fingered swordspeople with three pupils in each eye). Charging scammy spamfarms $500/month for a text generator that spits out dull, search-algorithm-pleasing narratives to appear over recipes is likewise low-value and highly risk tolerant (your customer doesn't care if the text is nonsense). Charging visually impaired people $100 month for an app that plays a text-to-speech description of anything they point their cameras at is low-value and moderately risk tolerant ("that's your blue shirt" when it's green is not a big deal, while "the street is safe to cross" when it's not is a much bigger one).

Morganstanley doesn't talk about the trillions the AI industry will be worth some day because of these applications. These are just spinoffs from the main event, a collection of extremely high-value applications. Think of self-driving cars or radiology bots that analyze chest x-rays and characterize masses as cancerous or noncancerous.

These are high value – but only if they are also risk-tolerant. The pitch for self-driving cars is "fire most drivers and replace them with 'humans in the loop' who intervene at critical junctures." That's the risk-tolerant version of self-driving cars, and it's a failure. More than $100b has been incinerated chasing self-driving cars, and cars are nowhere near driving themselves:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Quite the reverse, in fact. Cruise was just forced to quit the field after one of their cars maimed a woman – a pedestrian who had not opted into being part of a high-risk AI experiment – and dragged her body 20 feet through the streets of San Francisco. Afterwards, it emerged that Cruise had replaced the single low-waged driver who would normally be paid to operate a taxi with 1.5 high-waged skilled technicians who remotely oversaw each of its vehicles:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/11/03/technology/cruise-general-motors-self-driving-cars.html

The self-driving pitch isn't that your car will correct your own human errors (like an alarm that sounds when you activate your turn signal while someone is in your blind-spot). Self-driving isn't about using automation to augment human skill – it's about replacing humans. There's no business case for spending hundreds of billions on better safety systems for cars (there's a human case for it, though!). The only way the price-tag justifies itself is if paid drivers can be fired and replaced with software that costs less than their wages.

What about radiologists? Radiologists certainly make mistakes from time to time, and if there's a computer vision system that makes different mistakes than the sort that humans make, they could be a cheap way of generating second opinions that trigger re-examination by a human radiologist. But no AI investor thinks their return will come from selling hospitals that reduce the number of X-rays each radiologist processes every day, as a second-opinion-generating system would. Rather, the value of AI radiologists comes from firing most of your human radiologists and replacing them with software whose judgments are cursorily double-checked by a human whose "automation blindness" will turn them into an OK-button-mashing automaton:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop

The profit-generating pitch for high-value AI applications lies in creating "reverse centaurs": humans who serve as appendages for automation that operates at a speed and scale that is unrelated to the capacity or needs of the worker:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

But unless these high-value applications are intrinsically risk-tolerant, they are poor candidates for automation. Cruise was able to nonconsensually enlist the population of San Francisco in an experimental murderbot development program thanks to the vast sums of money sloshing around the industry. Some of this money funds the inevitabilist narrative that self-driving cars are coming, it's only a matter of when, not if, and so SF had better get in the autonomous vehicle or get run over by the forces of history.

Once the bubble pops (all bubbles pop), AI applications will have to rise or fall on their actual merits, not their promise. The odds are stacked against the long-term survival of high-value, risk-intolerant AI applications.

The problem for AI is that while there are a lot of risk-tolerant applications, they're almost all low-value; while nearly all the high-value applications are risk-intolerant. Once AI has to be profitable – once investors withdraw their subsidies from money-losing ventures – the risk-tolerant applications need to be sufficient to run those tremendously expensive servers in those brutally expensive data-centers tended by exceptionally expensive technical workers.

If they aren't, then the business case for running those servers goes away, and so do the servers – and so do all those risk-tolerant, low-value applications. It doesn't matter if helping blind people make sense of their surroundings is socially beneficial. It doesn't matter if teenaged gamers love their epic character art. It doesn't even matter how horny scammers are for generating AI nonsense SEO websites:

https://twitter.com/jakezward/status/1728032634037567509

These applications are all riding on the coattails of the big AI models that are being built and operated at a loss in order to be profitable. If they remain unprofitable long enough, the private sector will no longer pay to operate them.

Now, there are smaller models, models that stand alone and run on commodity hardware. These would persist even after the AI bubble bursts, because most of their costs are setup costs that have already been borne by the well-funded companies who created them. These models are limited, of course, though the communities that have formed around them have pushed those limits in surprising ways, far beyond their original manufacturers' beliefs about their capacity. These communities will continue to push those limits for as long as they find the models useful.

These standalone, "toy" models are derived from the big models, though. When the AI bubble bursts and the private sector no longer subsidizes mass-scale model creation, it will cease to spin out more sophisticated models that run on commodity hardware (it's possible that Federated learning and other techniques for spreading out the work of making large-scale models will fill the gap).

So what kind of bubble is the AI bubble? What will we salvage from its wreckage? Perhaps the communities who've invested in becoming experts in Pytorch and Tensorflow will wrestle them away from their corporate masters and make them generally useful. Certainly, a lot of people will have gained skills in applying statistical techniques.

But there will also be a lot of unsalvageable wreckage. As big AI models get integrated into the processes of the productive economy, AI becomes a source of systemic risk. The only thing worse than having an automated process that is rendered dangerous or erratic based on AI integration is to have that process fail entirely because the AI suddenly disappeared, a collapse that is too precipitous for former AI customers to engineer a soft landing for their systems.

This is a blind spot in our policymakers debates about AI. The smart policymakers are asking questions about fairness, algorithmic bias, and fraud. The foolish policymakers are ensnared in fantasies about "AI safety," AKA "Will the chatbot become a superintelligence that turns the whole human race into paperclips?"

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space

But no one is asking, "What will we do if" – when – "the AI bubble pops and most of this stuff disappears overnight?"

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/19/bubblenomics/#pop

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

tom_bullock (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/tombullock/25173469495/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[yuellii]

PLEASE ( DON’T ) BE MY WINGWOMAN !

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 his female best friend tries to help him win your love, but knowing her, it all goes wrong

feat. lyney, neuvillette, ayato ( separate )

note. gn reader, features : lynette, furina, ayaka. hello i am officially back and also officially 21 !! :]

LYNEY.

“Oh, woe is me! Please assist, my dearest sister!” The magician sat sprawled atop the couch quite dramatically, backhand over his forehead feigning feverish feelings. “Whatever shall I do when the God of Romance is plotting against a hopeless romantic, such as I?”

“What’s wrong this time?” By contrast, his sister’s voice proved no fluctuations, tone lacking the honeyed sound he needed for sympathy. Instead of catering to his sorrows, she instead sipped lightly at her tea, for it was far more relaxing than her brother’s ‘woes.’

Still, Lyney sighed. “The love of my life—my soulmate!” he cried out. “How should I win the affections of my other half, when I can’t even grasp the scale of romantic favor?”

“Desserts.”

Lyney sat up. “I beg your pardon?”

“Give desserts,” Lynette shrugged. “Everyone likes desserts.” This reasoning totally made the most sense to her.

She watched as Lyney started at her blankly for just a moment, and then he inhaled sharply. “So I should… use desserts as my gift…” With each passing word, Lynette watched as a staggering excitement in his voice grew tenfold. “And then, if I keep giving their favorite treats”—Lyney gasped—“they’ll start to associate the sweetness with me! Oh, Lynette, you’re a genius!”

Lynette blinked at him. That strategy explanation was not what she said at all, but whatever. Not her problem.

But when Lyney dragged her by the hand to go purchase desserts, and then forced her to sit down at the cafe just to watch him gift treats to you, then maybe it was her problem.

“A very special dessert!” he presented, and Lynette sat with disinterest as she watched your eyes light up at his cheap old appearance trick. “For a very special person.” And now came her own eye roll—caused by the way Lyney giggled to himself at the end of his own sentence.

Maybe it was charming ( but personally Lynette didn’t see the appeal ), because there was a sparkle that appeared in your eyes in admiration of him. And suddenly, Lynette didn’t understand why he was trying to win your love at all, because it’s clear to her that he’s already won it.

“This is for me?” she heard you say. “This is actually my favorite! Oh, Lyney, you shouldn’t have!”

“Don’t even worry,” she watched Lyney wave off. “It was given to me for free at the shop”—Huh?—“and I have no space for it”—What was he…?—“so I thought you might like it!”

Lynette blinked to herself. Then she blinked to herself again. And then one more time, and now Lyney was back to her spot with you no longer in sight. “How did I do?” Lyney excitedly questioned her. “A good start, right? Step one of your idea to get my crush to become obsessed with me is complete!”

Okay first of all, that was literally not her idea, but maybe she should’ve communicated it better. And second, “Why did you lie? That dessert wasn’t free—You specifically bought it to give to them.”

Lyney immediately raised a finger with that confident smirk of his. “Because, my dear sister,” he began, “it’s called playing hard to get.”

If she could sigh, she would. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am! And I’m taking this game very seriously, too. Do you know how hard it is to keep my cool when I’m around the love of my life?!”

“Playing hard to get just makes it harder to get someone, Lyney. They might lose interest and move on.” But still, Lyney insisted. And still, Lynette just silently rolled her eyes.

The next time this happened was literally only a day later. So much for playing “hard to get,” she supposes. Perhaps Lyney didn’t quite fully understand the scope of how suspicious it was to offer you another “free dessert” only a day later. Or, he was just so lovestruck he absolutely could not wait to talk to you again.

Lynette decided the answer to be the latter option.

And once again, he claimed not to buy this dessert on his own, and Lynette did not miss the obvious eyebrow raise you gave her brother this time. You were still grateful since it was your favorite, of course, but it was rather clear you were beginning to question this. Lynette sighed to herself.

“Lynette!” Lyney called excitedly once he left you. “Oh, dear sister, did you see it this time? She stayed with me a bit longer—grabbing the plate much more slowly. She must have been at the start of falling in love with—!” Lyney stopped when he saw the empty seat. “Uh, Lynette?”

Farther away, you suddenly yelped in surprise, almost dropping the plated dessert in your hands.

“Sorry,” Lynette mumbled. Oops, she didn’t mean to scare you. But… maybe appearing in your field of sighs so suddenly once you turned a corner and coming from a darkened alleyway was not the most subtle.

“It’s alright,” you brushed of. “Oh, you must be Lynette, right? Lyney’s sister!”

“Correct.” Ah, how would she bring this up? She was never really the best with words… And definitely not when she had to use a lot of them. “Um, my brother,” she started. “Don’t mind him being weird.”

At the mention of her brother being weird ( perhaps she should defend him, but whatever, he was being weird. ), you seemed to relax. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “He’s been giving me these desserts lately—didn’t seem too coincidental that he keeps getting them for ‘free’… Especially since they’re, um, not even having a promotion right now.”

Again, if Lynette could wack her brother on the head right now, she would.

“He likes you.”

The sudden shock on your face tells Lynette that maybe she shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. Or that she shouldn’t have said that. At all.

“You’re a very dear friend to him,” she correct. Oh, wait, but she didn’t want to completely shut off the idea of romance. Correct it again, quick. “Or, very dear person… Yeah.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, probably trying to process the amount of confessions and corrections she just shot at you. Archons, you probably thought her and her brother were so weird. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blame you.

“Thanks, Lynette,” you said, and she noticed your feet shift to walk away. “Actually, I think I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Well, Lyney certainly hoped you would. She just silently watched as you walked off. But she wasn’t worried, no. As long as you spoke of this “next time,” Lynette was sure her brother would eventually succeed with you, even if he was being weird at this game.

NEUVILLETTE.

The thing that gets Furina the most excited—absolutely elated, much shown in the way she kicks her feet and patters her fingers—is the fact that her dear Iudex has no idea he’s so in love with you.

To not only her, but also the rest of Fontaine, word is quick to spread with the simple way his feet always end up turned in your direction, or how lips curve a slight upwards motion when he speaks to you. Or, the way his feelings of admiration brings out the colors in his eyes, and the shyer tone in which he laughs along with you.

And Furina, being the bestest of friends she certainly is, only wants what’s best for the Chief Justice, truly! It’s such a downer seeing him be a quiet, unsociable, hard-to-get-along-with loner all the time. And so, the moment she catches wind of his feelings, she is more than quick to come up with a way to loop the two of you together.

She pats herself in the back. She’s confident that he’ll totally thank her for all her efforts later.

This confidence still yet remains even when she has you standing up nervously on trial, wide eyes a bit scared to be accused of a crime by the Hydro Archon herself. And Neuvillette atop his seat looks exasperated, much so in a way the audience is always eyeing him with fluttering eyes and chattering whispers—because the Iudex is looking at you with such a public display of concern that he has never been known to show another on trial.

Oh, she could already see the Steambird’s morning headlines! Chief Justice Neuvillette casts eyefuls of worry towards the accused?! Or, The Iudex’s rumored lover: Accused by Lady Furina?! —Oh, oh! She was so excited!

Amidst her internal giggles was when Neuvillette’s cane came hammered down on the wooden floor of his balcony seat, silencing every voice in the Opera Epiclese. “Furina,” his voice scatters as firm as ever, though the Archon could some people gasp to themselves—Ah, she could always trust her people to spot even the slightest difference in his voice; He was clearly angrier today! “I believe you have some explaining to do.”

“Is it not obvious, my dear Iudex?” she loudly proclaimed as if acting in a performance. Her voice was playful and teasing as always, and she could tell Neuvillette was much more annoyed by it than usual today. “I am pressing charges against a darling citizen, yet a criminal over here…!”

And that was when she threw the back of her hand over her forehead for dramatic effect, making you only more nervous upon your stand. Such an increase in your fear was clearly noticeable to the Iudex, of course, as he immediately spoke to silence the Archon accusing you.

“And what would those charges entail, Furina?”

There was a sudden glare in his eyes, almost threatening. But oh well, nothing he could do—She knew he would stick by the law and allow her to make her claim anyways. This was so easy, she could almost laugh to herself!

“For…”

Oh, celebration was already at the back of her mind!

“Murder!”

…Holy shit. Oh Archons. She was supposed to say theft. “Theft,” for stealing Neuvillette’s heart. But instead she slipped up and said murder.

Oh, she can’t take that back now. But… But no worries! She was the beloved Archon that had absolutely no issues performing for her people—ergo, she could totally come up with a new plan! Certainly, a single-word slip-up will surely not mess up her entire pickup line here.

“Yes, you heard me,” she played along, hands balling to fists and dramatically sitting at her hips. “Murder!”

“Furina!” Neuvillette silenced from his place below on the podium. Never before has she seen his facial expression this angered. There was a furrow between his brows that betrayed his usually calm and emotionless look—and aw, she thought it was so romantic for him to show these emotions so outwardly just for you! The audience must love his display of passion right now—all to defend your honor! “What is the meaning of this?” his voice boomed.

Furina cleared her throat. “Murder…” she began to make her case against you. You, who looked up at her so fearfully. She almost felt bad. “For… For breathing…!” Wait, that’s not what she meant. “No, no, like murder… of breath— of my breath— no, of Neuvillette’s breath, I mean—” Okay, at this point, she just needed to spit something out. And that was when she raised a finger, pointing it accusingly down at you and making her claim: “You killed Neuvillette!”

The next instance was filled with a silence so deafeningly powerful that she felt her own stomach churn and her knees grow shaky. Well, this was definitely an embarrassment she hopes to never feel again.

Surely, this silence wasn’t awkward enough for her land the finishing blow…?

“Like, you stole his breath away…” she tried. “So you technically killed him.”

Okay maybe it was time for her to shut up.

Neuvillette’s face; oh, he looked absolutely furious. This was not the picture-perfect sight of cherry tomato blushing she was hoping for here. And you: a horror-stricken disbelief. Your mind looked like it was racing to comprehend both being charged with such a serious crime, and having the Chief Justice just randomly outed in public for… having a crush on you…?

Meanwhile Furina stood still in her usual place, just about ready to curl up and die from her failed attempt at a love confession. But before that, perhaps Celestia heard her prayers.

The audience pretty much erupted in girlish screams and whispers—all those watchful citizens of Fontaine who treated your relationship with Neuvillette like the hottest topic of the century, like the storybook romance they were reading obsessively. And now, Furina watched—watched as your expression contorted to slow realization that maybe your Archon wasn’t exactly lying about Neuvillette’s feelings, and that maybe almost the entire nation was already romanticizing you two.

And then, there: that was when Furina watched as your face blew up an expression of pure embarrassment, all the fear being completely wiped away. Then Furina could almost die when she turned her gaze to Neuvillette—who was still watching you very intently—and how the ends of his ears turned a blushing red.

Oh, this view was priceless. Once again, perfect Focalors saves the day!

KAMISATO AYATO.

Thoma clicked his tongue. “Tall and awkward.” He squinted his eyes. “Practically unrecognizable in Inazuma despite your status.” Then, he tilted his head. “Absolutely terrible at small talk.”

Finally, Thoma nodded his head. “Yep, you don’t have a chance, my Lord.”

Thoma yelped as a paper fan hit his shoulder, and that was when Ayaka slid at the seat next to him. He made a quick apology to her, but when Ayaka looked across the table, she saw how her older brother didn’t seem quite phased at Thoma’s mean evaluation at all.

Instead, he seemed to be really considering what was told to him.

“Oh, brother,” Ayaka caught his attention. “Don’t listen to Thoma, he was only being mean. Personally, I think you have a good chance at winning this date!”

“No, no, Thoma might be right,” Ayato pondered. Aw, Ayaka didnt like it when he doubted himself. “All of those traits may make this date go horribly wrong—I might end up appearing as undesirable…”

Ayaka frowned. She may not have a love life of her own, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching her brother’s love life like an Inazuman drama act or like a romantic storybook. And the fact that Ayato has downright fallen tremendously hard for you—who Ayaka also loved dearly, and who she admired so much—makes her pray to the Archons every night for your relationship to set sail.

So Ayato scoring this first date with you was already a big deal on its own. Only… He wasn’t quite sure what date plan would make him the most appealing man to be courting you.

Of course, who else could he turn to, other than his darling best friend and sister? Ayaka certainly had no expertise in this, but if there was one thing…

“Brother, please take this!” Across the table, she shoved a stack of just a few papers, slightly faded and lightly wrinkled, into his hands. He blinked in surprise at them for a moment before squinting at the rushed handwriting that clearly did not belong to his sister. “The Traveler gave this to me; It’s a recipe for a pizza dish from Mondstadt!

And that was how she ended up here, watching with Thoma from the sidelines of the estate as Ayato gives you the friendliest smile can force upon himself as he offers to make the both of you food. Now, the last time Ayaka tried this, she blew up the oven with the Traveler in earshot. But surely, she knew her brother had much better survival skills than she did, and there was no way he would ruin a perfectly easy pizza recipe.

But then Thoma almost burst out laughing from their secluded hiding spot, and that was when she noticed her brother bringing out not one, but instead two platters of pizza. A rather odd aroma in the air. Oh.

“I thought we’d spice things up!” they heard Ayato say to you, clasping his gloved hands together and regaining his weird, excited smile and that equally weird, excited tone in his voice. Oh brother… “One pizza is normal, and the other pizza has random toppings I threw on it—as a taste test!”

And when he set the two down, it was… quite interesting. One was a normal mushroom pizza, cooked based on Traveler’s recipe: Ayato certainly made it much better than Ayaka could’ve attempted. But the second pizza was topped with a rather colorful palette: lavender melons, sea grass, and what looked like Sea Ganoderma. Ayaka and Thoma already found themselves gagging at the smell.

When Ayaka glanced at her blonde companion, he was furiously shaking his head at her, running a thumb straight across his throat as if saying “It’s over for him.” And honestly, Ayaka might have to agree this time. Maybe she should’ve never given him that pizza recipe or that cooking idea.

“A ‘taste test’…” you echoed. The two eavesdroppers heard shifts from your side do the table, meaning you reached forward to grab a slice—they quite obviously guessed you picked the regular mushroom pizza. “The host should go first, don’t you think?”

Oh? Did that mean you were interested in this game of two after all? Ayaka’s eyes practically lit up—She was so excited for her brother!

“I’ll take up that offer of yours,” Ayato chuckled lowly. And with no gag or hesitance at all, he takes a large bite with a whole unsavory mixture of the ingredients entering the cave of his mouth. “Mm, not bad at all.”

You were visibly surprised by his calmness, now reaching out to grab a slice of your own and biting it just as he did.

But almost immediately, that bite was spat right back out onto a napkin at the mere taste of this weird concoction. “Bleh, Lord Commissioner! How did you manage to eat a whole slice?!”

The first thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed: The way you said this was amidst laughter. You were laughing, and it even sounded like you were smiling. Because whenever Ayato tried this sort of gross mixing method with Thoma or Ayaka, they would also say the same line of disgust, but in an unfavorable way. But, no—You sounded genuinely lighthearted?

The second thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed ( from even the slightest of peeks ): The big, bona fide grin on Ayato’s face at your reaction. Oh, he was absolutely eating this up, as no one ever showed a positive reaction to his weird little hobby before. And of course, being partnered with the fact he was ( not-so ) secretly in love with you, only made it so much better for him.

“It was alright, I’d say!” he spoke excitedly, a hint of an uncontrollable laughter and uncontrollable smile laced in his voice. “It had the most memorable texture, and the taste felt like I was in touch with mother nature.”

You only scoffed at him in a joking manner, “None of those ‘compliments’ of yours weren’t inherently positive, Commissioner.”

To that, he gave you another big grin before silently reaching to eat yet another slice of this suspicious pizza. Well, Ayaka supposed her brother’s weirdness landing a perfect date with you, after all. And then she pat herself on the back—because maybe, giving him that recipe was the best mistake she could make.

// not proofread ;; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNIER THAN INTENDED. BUT IM BAD AT BEING FUNNY :(

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Well, I did it

Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.

So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)

Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!

I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)

Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)

Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.

I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)

Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.

Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅

I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool

Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).

Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains

Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!

I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).

Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing

(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)

Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…

I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)

P.s.

I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.

During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU

[clockys-soul]

Updated designs for these guys!

Here’s some Ideas/Headcanons I have for the tribes:

For all tribes:

-they don’t use any weapons outside of daggers maybe (bro you’re a quadrupedal creature, using a spear or sword or bow is not gonna work how you want it to, and you have claws and teeth plus fire or venom??? You have weapons built in bro) it just looks dumb to me, like what are you doing.

-Dragons Never stop growing like crocs

SkyWings:

-Most aggressive and bad tempered but not unfairly so, they don’t trust strangers and are much less friendly out of caution.

-prefer poultry and red meat, fish not so much, they also like to smoke their meat for special events.

-Hatchlings are capable of flying and breathing fire within a few months of their lives, quicker than most other tribes.

-their horns are the longest of any tribe and they take great pride in them, most (especially nobles) adorning them with jewelry.

-when on the ground they sometimes use their wings as extra arms, holding onto something for example.

-they are the best blacksmiths out of tribes, their craftsmanship is respected even amongst other tribes.

-they are almost completely fireproof, which is why they rely on their teeth and claws when fighting amongst themselves, their flames range is also the furthest and they can breathe fire the longest without stopping.

-Firescales have to touch another Skywing for a longer time to do damage.

-they have the best endurance when it comes to flying and they are also the fastest. They hold annual races.

-like birds of prey, they have insanely good eyes. They can see the furthest out of all tribes.

-during the before mentioned races they paint their wings with cool patterns just like they do during war, however the patterns are different, the Warpaint pattern is darker and rougher.

-their teeth are similar to that of medium to large theropods, they rely mostly on their fire an less on their bite as it’s a bit lower due to their longer necks.

-their eggs are white and long. Usually only laying one per clutch.

SeaWings:

-relatively sociable, suspicious at first but especially once they get to know you they act like they never had a problem with you in the first place.

-obviously they prefer fish but also crustaceans and other sea creatures, SeaWings living more up north, hunt seals.

-second strongest bite force, also their main weapon.

-very round scales and thick skin.

-Hatchlings need to stay underwater for the first few months of their lives as their lungs finish developing.

-Short but very curvy horns, their "whiskers" vary severely between individuals.

-their glowscales vary in size and sometimes even in quantity, I think they use them mostly region-wise (face, tail for example) and then by how often they flicker (like morse code maybe?).

-Most of their jewelry consists of seashells and pearls, but also of platinum and Gold.

-they are expert tattoo artists (just like sandwings) and they take pride in their underwater murals.

-their sails/frills also vary a lot, there are several variants, some more wavy.

-Seawing families living in colder water up north have developed a bit of blubber over the generations.

-they have pharyngeal jaws (like sharks), their teeth are also a bit more flat like most sharks.

-Medium to large in size. (Everything in the ocean is big so why not)

-their eggs are round, a bit reflective and darker shades. SeaWings may lay up to 5 eggs per clutch but usually ist between 2 and 3.

Sandwings:

-small to medium in size.

-amicable tribe, they often help dragons stranded in the desert.

-they have the second most fire resistant scales, while hotter fire and longer exposure will do eventually do damage getting blasted for a bit does nothing.

-they have keen senses, their sense of hearing and smell being the best.

-they can go without eating or drinking for weeks without issue.

-they have naturally warmer scales (like Skywings do).

-Sandwings love jewelry and accessories in general, they like decorating themselves with all kinds of stuff, like tattoos and piercings.

-Hatchlings hatch with more pronounced markings (like lion cubs), sometimes they stay that prominent even into adulthood.

-sandwing eggs are dark in color, Sandwings lay up to 2 in a clutch.

-sails are unique and every Sandwing looks different, they like to adorn them with piercings and other accessories.

-they also like to take sun naps, not nearly as long or often as Rainwings but they enjoy the sun.

-rely mostly on their barbs but also claws and teeth when fighting, less so fire.

Leafwings:

-Medium to large, (trees can get real big)

-eggs are long and pale. They may lay up to 3 eggs a clutch.

-omnivorous but mainly meat, fruits and vegetables are usually just a side dish or snack.

-their scales change to duller hues in during winter, patterns stay the same though.

-hatchlings are pale and only get more saturated if exposed to sun, like rainwings.

-they have lots of golden accessories along with colorful cloths and gemstones.

-leading tribe in toxicology, they know their plants and how to use em, and they love their spices.

-they have the second longest tail of all tribes and like Rainwings use them to hold onto branches when perched in Trees.

-while they are typically shades of Green or Brown/Orange, they may also have accents of all kinds of colors to varying degrees.

-they have Treehouses but also build stone temples, their Royal Palace is a rather large one with large gardens.

Silkwings:

-all silkwings have "fur" but some have less and some have more, typically it’s a line down their spine to their tail tip.

-they are omnivorous, mainly eating fruits and the like, but every now and then they will eat meat to balance out their diet.

-they have the shortest claws out of all tribes, which makes sewing and the like much easier for them, which it’s why it’s what most Silkwings do as a job.

-their wings patterns and shape is their most unique feature, they are also relatively quiet during flight.

-while Silkwings are typically very colorful they may have black accents (almost every butterfly has black so how tf are the butterfly dragons not gonna have some)

-they have the weakest biteforce, and rather weak claws, they are naturally pacifists.

-Silkwings have long thin tongues, cuz why not.

-it’s common for Silkwings to braid and generally style their hair, adding cuffs and other things like hair clips.

-they also have relatively weak scales, they’re a rather weak tribe, but flamesilks are about as fire resistant as Sandwings.

-eggs are small and round, per clutch it’s usually 3-4.

Rainwings:

-laziness is not normal, before the main story Rainwings were much more active and kept track of their eggs

-eggs are round and small, very similar to snake eggs, 2 max per clutch.

-Rainwings are the second smallest tribe.

-their frills are essentially and extension of their ears.

-they require meat at least 3-4 times a week.

-only tribe, aside from Hivewings, to have fangs.

-their jewelry consists of flowers, gemstones and feathers mainly, but cloth is also often used.

-longest tail out of all tribes, parents sometimes carry hatchlings with them.

-shorter horns, usually curvy.

-scales get duller with age, and elder ones change scale color less.

-very curved claws to help em climb, also useful when hunting.

-Short wings like harpy eagles so flying through trees is easier.

-eyecolor cannot change neither can the horns nor claws or mouth.

-the older the individual the duller the scale color.

Mudwings:

-largest tribe, also strongest tribe.

-due to needing to have a higher body temp to be able to breathe fire, they rely on teeth, claws and overall strength.

-strongest bite force, one bite can amputate a leg with ease.

-they may have different variants of tusks, male typically have larger ones.

-slowest flyers, the prefer the ground.

-Fire is more magma like, more liquidity.

-the usually have 2 sets of horns, 1 large and 1 small.

-eggs are large and typically tan to dark brown with spots, 6 eggs per clutch sometimes even 8.

-younger individuals are typically kinder, and more likely to help.

-they have shorter but incredibly strong tails.

-wings are more round in shape, and are used as extra legs sometimes.

-require a lot of meat, all different kinds, prefer red.

-jewelry usually consists of different kinds of metals and such, imbedded with gemstones and old tusks.

-mudwings love play-fighting and sparring and will do so often with their siblings, very good fighters.

Nightwings:

-strong bite, maybe 3rd strongest.

-more nocturnal, but are perfectly functional during the day.

-their flames have tints of different colors, unique to every individual.

-some have more star scales than others, depending on how starry the night was when they hatched.

-strong sense of smell and very good eyesight.

-veils, and a bunch of jewelry imbedded with gems and crystals, they like their silver and gold.

-eggs are oval and black with hints of different colors.

-their wings have accents of different colors at the edges or in the middle, usually the brightest part of their body.

-Fire is very Smokey, their range isn’t that far either but it’s the second hottest fire.

-typically only 1 egg per clutch, 2 is rare.

-Mindreaders will have one teardrop scale for each moon they were born under, so all 3 would be 6.

-Prophets will have one starscale on their forehead for each moon they were born under, all 3 would be 3.

-padded feet like t-rex makes them quite even on the ground.

Icewings:

-blood varies from violet to more turquoise on the spectrum.

-claws are long and curved for extras grip but instead of be serrated, it’s their feet that are.

-the older the individual the more spines the will have.

-prefer to eat fish, but often eat red meat as well.

-eggs are long and white. Typically 1-2 per clutch.

-furs, silver and platinum are often seen, but royals will wear gold.

-teeth are long and thin, very similar to orcas.

-spines start growing along the horns as well, making them look similar to antlers.

-they are almost completely frostproof, as in, they cannot be hurt by frostbreath, or hypothermia.

-Frostscales are a thing, essentially the same as Firescales but frosty.

-about as trusting as Skywings, they are not particularly respectful either until you earn their respect.

-Medium to large in size, they grow incredibly large.

Hivewings:

-venom is more similar to Sandwing venom, and all of them have fangs and a barb, the strength of the venom varies though.

-most agile flyers, maybe even second in speed.

-teeth are thin and needle-like, the rely on their venom to weaken their opponents.

-piercings and warm colored Jewelry are a must, usually imbedded with ambers and other similar stones.

-loud during flight.

-blood is dark, almost black.

-eggs are oval and black, typically 1-2 eggs per clutch.

-very curved claws, good for holding onto things, for climbing too.

I may add some more as I come up with it!

[radiance1]

Nephew Danny and Uncle Waylon au where, and hear me out.

Danny kinda shapeshifts to look more like Waylong. Like, claws, scales, tail, eyes, etc.

With the bullshit excuse that Phantom being a ghost can shift however he wants and because he is very linked to his human half some stuff starts showing up there as well.

(Needless to say, Danny and Waylon were very surprised to see Danny growing a tail one day in human form.)

Why is this important?

I don't know.

But imagine, imagine. Croc Danny causing havoc around Gotham with Waylon and doing crimes while serving zero time because they're sneaky like that.

Until they do eventually get caught by the Batfam but that'll happen eventually not right now.

Why is Danny in Gotham with his uncle?

Well, you see, I could wave off his circumstances with Jack and Maddie reveal not gone right buuuuuuut I'm gonna go the Nasty Burger explosion since that closes off most of the important people in Danny's life (Jack, Maddie, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, Dani (since she wasn't created yet)) and allat.

With the exception of the GIW I suppose? But I think they kinda moved elsewhere when Phantom is kinda just like, gone at the same time a burger join suspiciously exploded!

Did Phantom have a hand in this and fled the town to remove suspicion!?

Where is Vlad in all this? Well, you see, since Danny does have a relative Vlad couldn't get Danny into his custody because even before everything was finalized and reviewed Danny just kinda skedaddled over to Gotham lmao.

[samwise1548]

There is a scale regarding Tmagp characters, that goes from very unhinged about the horrors, to literally couldn’t care less. But I didn’t know how to title it so instead you just get this lineup :)

Added Teddy and Celia over here

[ID: A drawing of The Magnus Protocol characters standing in a line, with captions underneath each person.

The first is Colin Becker, with the caption "known saboteur of FR3-D1 [Freddy]". Colin is a white, ginger haired man wearing a dark green shirt over a black shirt and light brown pants. He's holding one hand against a corkboard of papers and post-it notes. His expression is full of rage.

The next is Gwendolyn Bouchard, captioned "suspicious from association, Gwen Bouchard". She is a white woman with long hazel hair with small braids in it. She's wearing a red vest over a brown shirt, a purple knee length skirt and tights. There is a thought bubble next to her with a picture of a red Among Us character and the word "sus" underneath it. Gwen's face is scrunched up in speculation as she glares angrily at someone far away.

The third person is Samama Khalid, and his caption reads "Sam 'casual cyber-sleuth' Khalid". Sam is a tall, skinny, brown man with curly brown hair. He's wearing a long, dark brown corduroy shirt over a grey shirt, and maroon pants. He's walking while looking at two papers in his hands quizzically.

The next person is Alice Dyre. Her caption says "Alice Dyre; Motto: keep calm and ignore the horrors". Alice is a short fat trans woman with albinism. Her hair is buzzed. She's wearing round glasses, a brown shirt with white color and sleeves, embroidered with red flowers. Her light brown pants have a patch on each knee that match the shape of her diamond star earrings. She has her arms crossed and is watching Sam from the corner of her eyes, nervously.

The last fully visible person is Lena Kelly, with the caption "Evil! Evil!! Evil!! -erm, I mean, Lena Kelly". Lena is a light skinned old woman with blond hair put into a tail with a claw clip. She's wearing a grey business suit over a light grey shirt. She is looking directly at the viewer with a neutral expression.

To the right of Lena is a black arm waving goodbye, cut off by the edge. The caption under it reads "also, Mr. noping out of here before things get ugly, Teddy Vaughn.

\End ID]

Closeups under cut

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 2]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Fish are friends (?). You are not food.

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

The Siren wasn’t leaving.

Which a part of you had been expecting. Because surely if there had been a snowball’s chance in Hell of him making it out into the open ocean alive before you’d cut through the ropes, he would have taken it and left you stranded without a second thought. And his odds weren’t that much better now—his fins were still a mangled mess and the wounds all along his scales and dainty featherings were still raw and oozing. It only made sense that he’d take at least a few days to try and recover.

But… But still.

Did he have to make it so obvious that he was sticking around?

The glint of the light off his tail was a constant distraction—always bright and eye-catching even at the cloudiest points of the day. Always flashing just out of the corner of your eye as a perpetual reminder that there was something in the water that would very happily gobble you up if you bothered making a swim for safety.

He’d also taken to sunning himself. Like some kind of overgrown mer-cat. Stretched out languidly on a flat rock with the tips of his violet fins hanging over the edge—just enough for the gauzy edges to play along the surf and avoid drying out entirely. His pale hair splayed out in a halo around him as he snoozed softly in the heat of the afternoon.

Which! No fair! This wasn’t a vacation! This was a stranding! An SOS! A Rose Queen Procedural Rule Four-Hundred-and-Four! And him taking up the whole of the cove to, I don’t know, tan, felt like another intentional slap in the face. The sun rose over the bay, which meant this stretch of shore was facing East. Which was the direction your vessel had been coming from. Which meant that this was the place on the little islet where you needed to be. Subsection Three of Procedural Four-O’-Four. ‘In the case of Crew Overboard, we will always travel the same route as planned. In order to give the Strandee a chance to map out a reconnection point.’ Riddle always had been so smart about these kinds of things.

‘It’s just until he’s better,’ you reassured yourself for the umpteenth time that morning. ‘Then he’ll leave and I can get rescued or die here alone and in peace.’

A fin flicked up from the shallows to spray you with saltwater splatters and you spluttered indignantly when it ran down into your eyes. You glared at the Siren’s retreating back, musing bitterly about how you’d never thought it was possible for someone to make the tuck of their shoulders look smug.

‘Alone and in peace,’ you repeated hopefully. And it sounded like such far off dream.

.

.

On the second day post-rope-removal, the Siren waved you down with a sharp flick of his wrist.

You approached the waterline hesitantly, still mostly waiting for him to turn on you and make toothpicks out of your bones. But instead of murdering you and getting crafty with your corpse, he just pointed to some scribbles in the sand. You squinted at the loop-de-loops suspiciously. It almost looked like an illustration of dancing bubbles—the lot of them curling and popping along the ground in a line like a limerick. 

“Uhm, very nice,” you tried, and the fins flattened pissilly all along the side of his head.

He jabbed his claw towards the mess again. Then firmly at your eyes (hopefully not as a threat that he’d be happy to take them right out of your head if you continued to be obtuse). And then back again. He made a point to move the tip of his sharp nail from one swirl to the next in a little hop-hop-hop. It reminded you a bit deliriously of Riddle trying to teach some of the more socially bereft members of the crew their letters, and—

“You want me to read that?” you gaped, staring at the elegant curls of nonsense in the sand.

The Siren crossed his arms across his lean chest with a scoff that puffed past his lips hard enough to fluff out some of the paler, purple-tipped, hair hanging by his chin. He rolled his eyes at you and muttered something thin and spicy under his breath that you just knew had to be some sort of insult.

“I can read!” you defended, because it felt like it needed defending.

He leveled you with an entirely unimpressed ‘Oh, I’m sure you can’ sneer and you dropped to your knees, incensed. You dug your fingers into the sand and started sculpting out your own very cheery message into the muck.

When you were done, you waved a hand towards your proclamation and watched his brows pull together at the center into a teeny, pinched sort of expression. He let himself roll forward with the seafoam to lay more fully on the shore, and stared down at the mess you’d made like it was some strange code. Even reaching out to poke softly at the straight edge of a ‘T’ with one of his knife-sharp talons.

After a long moment of contemplation, he looked back up at you with an arched brow that was so unintentionally poised and not full of spite that it almost took your breath away. Who knew how pretty an already stunning face could become when it wasn’t twisted up in absolute vitriol? You shook away that absolutely damning thought in horror. That’s exactly what he’d want you to think. Siren, and all. Using his hotness to lure people onto his dinner table. Not you, baby. Because you were smart. And so gross from being stranded under island sunshine for a week that surely you’d taste like some absolutely rancid jerky at this point.

“Oh no,” you droned, and immediately that subtle curiosity of his ticked right back into irritation. “Two creatures from entirely different species and ecosystems have somehow managed to develop unique alphabets. What a completely unpredictable complication.”

The Siren puffed up like an angry lionfish and turned with a snarl to dive back into the shallows—making sure to whip his tail in your face and slam into the water with a huge splash as he went. The salt spray pelted down like rain and you snickered as it sloughed off your cheeks in rivulets, content to sit merrily in the wet sand beside your hastily scribbled: ‘Mermen Are Vicious Bitches. Hit Me if You Agree :)’

.

.

The next morning, there were more fish on the shoreline. Though these ones looked a bit less like they’d been dragged up by their souls and left to writhe in the wake of Siren-Screaming-Agony and more just like the unfortunate victims of a pair of too sharp claws.

You frowned down at a brown, sad-looking flounder that had clearly found itself at the very wrong end of a certain merman still swanning about in the bay not fifty feet away. It was mostly intact, and pleasantly plump for a flat, pancake-looking blob of muck. Your stomach gurgled and the thought of a nice, coal-charred, fillet really seemed quite nice. You chanced another peek at your resident Asshole, debating if it was worth swiping his snack. Another ominous rumble from your abdomen and you reached down to steal your prize and scuttle off deeper inland like a troll returning to its layer.

It didn’t take very long to get a small fire going, and within the hour you’d been fed and were more than ready for a cozy, full-bellied nap in the soft sand.

By the time you began to make your way back to the cove, the sun was high in the sky and you were already dreading sitting beneath its weighted rays for another afternoon. So you slowed your pace to a near snail crawl, dragging your feet as you went.

The little octopus from earlier was still swaying contentedly around the tide pool you’d shoved it into. It probably needed to be carried back out to the bay at some point so that it could swim back into the depths of the ocean, but the poor thing was just so small and round. Surely it’d get devoured by the first sharp-toothed thing that caught sight of it. Especially with your merman apparently being out for the blood of whatever other scaly things were swimming about in his temporary home. So for now you slipped it some small bits of leftover fish instead. You sat, crouched at the pool’s edge, and watched raptly as it grabbed the shredded bits of pale meat with its chubby tentacles to shove towards an eager beak.

“You’re the only friend I have left in the whole world,” you told the octopus miserably, wiping the greasy remnants of your lunch off your chin with a sigh.

The traitor hurriedly moved to snatch up the treat you’d offered it and hide itself away between some rocky crevices. You sighed louder. Rejected. What a time to be alive. 

.

.

The next morning, the Siren was singing again.

That familiar prickle danced its way up your arms, leaving pinpricks of goosebumps in its wake. Some pirates told tales of storms leaving their mark in such a way—that seasoned sailors could feel the tickle of thunder against their skin long before they could spot dark clouds on the horizon. You’d have to amend that little legend whenever you found your way back to The Rose Queen. Siren Sense was a lot cooler, anyways. Any idiot with arthritis could tell you when rain was due.

But either way, Mister Merman was back to idly circling the bay and calling into the distance. At least it wasn’t as miserable as it had been the other day—more of a leisurely pacing than the frantic, near-feral caterwauling that had soured your gut so terribly.

There was another fat fish on the shore. A bright, red snapper so brilliantly crimson that it was almost impossible to make out the garish wounds in its side. Almost. And even if it hadn’t been, the drooping, rust colored, rivulets dug into the sand would have been enough of a clue.

Why the Siren was bothering to leave his clawed-up kills at your feet like some overgrown cat dragging in mice, you had no idea. Maybe he was poisoning them, and subsequently you. Maybe he was bored and it was some sort of fishy enrichment. Maybe he just didn’t want to bother leaving dead things around to contaminate his favorite sunning spots, and tossing his leftovers in your vicinity was as close to a reliable dumpster as he could find on a remote island. Who’s to say.

Either way, you dutifully ignored the magical tingles racing up your shoulders and brought the newest fish back to your makeshift firepit. You grilled the snapper in silence, debating. Then you fed your octopus friend and returned to the beach, cooked fillets in tow.

You waited in awkward silence for a few moments, fish burning your palms, before raising your fingers to your lips and whistling loud enough to make your teeth ache. The mystical static faded from the air and you watched in pleasant (?) surprise as the Siren made his way back to where you’d set up camp. He rolled in with the tide, cresting on a gentle bit of surf and coming to rest neatly in the shallows—fins splayed out beneath him like a lord lying amidst his many silken robes. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at you with an arched brow and slanted frown.

You awkwardly extended a hand—roasted snapper still resting in your open palm and burning the absolute fuck out of your fingers.

“Uhm,” you said, feeling a bit too much like the local idiot trying to feed one of the rabid, wandering, strays around town. “Food?”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at you.

“Do you want food?” you tried.

The other brow joined the first, nearly rising all the way into his hairline. It wasn’t a pleasant sort of surprise.

“It’s better cooked?” you coaxed in the face of his outright constipated scowl. Be fed and full, you thought hopefully. Maybe then you won’t fucking look at me like I’m a boxed lunch.

He jabbed a sharpened, black talon in your direction, and then pointedly again angled up towards your mouth. Then back to the fish still roasting your poor cuticles straight off your fingers.

You blinked, a bit thrown.

“What? It’s supposed to be for me?”

He nodded, throwing in another one of those bombastically snarky eyerolls for good measure. ‘Obviously,’ that sneer said.

“Well,” you huffed, plopping down to sit cross-legged in the sand and offering up one of the fillets. “There’s plenty for both of us.” When he stared at you like you were attempting to serve him up a choice pile of literal dog shit, you wiggled your hand and entreated, “Please just take it before my skin melts off.”

The Siren huffed and reached out, plucking up the fish with the tips of his claws. He observed your meager meal as one might a particularly unappealing cockroach, and after a long moment, his nose scrunched (cute, you thought absently before immediately suffocating every wayward braincell that would dare call your murderous shore-neighbor anything of the sort) and he leaned forward to nip at a crisped, pink corner with the barest edge of one canine.

When your culinary creation didn’t immediately strike him dead on the spot, he took another, equally dainty bite. And then another. The tight pucker of his mouth eased as he chewed, and you watched as the harsh cut of his purple irises warmed with that same intrigue as they had when you’d first scribbled your foreign letters into the sand.

He readjusted his grip on the fish between his claws to get a better angle and took a proper bite, chewing thoughtfully. Before you knew it, you were watching him nip at the pads of his fingers, his gaze going a bit round and shocked when he realized that he’d devoured the entirety of it.

“See?” you hummed, tucking into your own portion with gusto. “Not all things humans come up with are terrible.” He harumphed and turned to glare back out over the bay, slouching into the surf with an expression that was most certainly not a pout. “But maybe you’d know that if you bothered to do anything other than murder and devour us on sight,” you chirped.

To which you were immediately doused with an armful of water for your troubles. The Siren glowered petulantly from where he’d just wave-bombed you, and then dove back into the deeper waters of the sandbar. He immediately started up his stupid singing all over again—pointedly keeping his chin high above the surface and splashing brine into your face anytime he looped close enough to shore.

“I don’t know why I bother,” you huffed, and ate your sopping snapper in grumpy silence.

.

.

There was a ship wrecked off the coast.

Nothing overly cool, and definitely only a small chunk of what had probably at one point been a rather impressive vessel. But it was something. The first change in pace you’d had in days and oozing with possibilities.

The only problem was that the great, rotting, hull of the thing was dug up into a jagged skerry about a hundred yards off the shore—wedged into the pointed rocks with no chance of any wave or breeze sending it adrift. You could swim perfectly well. I mean, living your life on a ship surrounded by tumultuous, depthless, ocean would have been a hugely stupid career move otherwise. The issue, naturally, was the thing currently making its home in these waters. Sharks and barracudas, blablabla. They were just animals, no matter how many teeth they had. The Siren had a grudge. And just as many teeth.

Right now, said spiky pain in your ass was lounging in the shallows like the froth was an elegant daybed made just for him—shredded fins swaying in the soft tides and his hair floating about him that same, white-gold halo that made him look far too peaceful for anyone’s good sense. He wasn’t singing today, which was great for the local wildlife population but terrible for your Siren Sense. Once you waded into the waves, you’d have no real way to keep track of him. Hope, maybe, that he didn’t think fucking with you was worth messing up whatever tan-line he had going on. But nothing concrete that you’d be willing to bet the safety of your limbs on.

You wiggled your toes in the sand and stared longingly out at the stupid, wrecked ship that was so stupidly close. If you swam your fastest you could probably make it there in under two minutes—less than that, even. But that was still more than enough time for the Siren to rake those dark claws of his across your throat and drag you down into the depths to drown.

Riddle’s angry, red face swam through your thoughts, and you could practically see him shoving that beloved law tome of his under your nose for the umpteenth time.

‘Rule 32, never make dangerous bets that you’re certain you won’t win, particularly if you are betting against a Blue Nosed Beetle.’

‘Rule 15, do not needlessly sacrifice your life in the name of curiosity, excluding—of course—if you hail from Cheshire or are a Cat.’

‘It’s only a dumb shipwreck,’ you thought miserably, if rationally. ‘It’s probably not even that cool.’

Your captain would be so proud.

.

.

The next morning you were rolling up the cuffs on your pants and wading into the cool shallows, silently lighting a candle in your heart for your beloved, steam-faced leader and promising that you would at the very least cover the costs of your own funeral so as not to inconvenience him further.

The waves lapped against your ankles and the waters themselves were shockingly clear and blue. You could practically see each grain of sand beneath your heels—make out each pointy rock and the little, red crabs that scuttled away from your tromping like civilians fleeing from the shadow of a leviathan. The Siren was back to singing today. Perhaps his poor, overworked throat simply needed a break every now and again. But either way, your Merman Magic Missive was working in full force. The hairs on your arms stood at full attention and you liked to imagine you could see them twitching in circles to follow his long, looping arcs through the bay.  

You made it up to your knees and waited, eyes scanning the open water and nose twitching like maybe you could smell the fucker. There was nothing but a familiar prickle along your shoulders and that deep sense of ‘tug tug tug’ with no answer, so you took a deep breath and pushed further, the water sloshing up to your hips, your chest, and finally you were floating—paddling slow and cautious towards the wreckage.

It really was insanely close. Even moving at your most cautious, sneakiest crawl, you’d made it nearly three-quarters of the way there within perhaps five minutes. And no signs of a vengeful, hungry Siren circling the waters beneath you either. More rules that perhaps that you’d have to tell Riddle might need some amending  once you finally made it back home to your crew. ‘Dangerous bets,’ who? ‘Needless sacrifice,’ what? You might as well have outsmarted the whole ocean.

As you moved closer, you could make out a strange coat of arms on the side of the hull that you didn’t recognize. Twining, silver songbirds soaring against the sparkly backdrop of an otherwise plain faced crest, which honestly looked far too delicate to be heading the broken remains of what was no doubt at one point an absolute monster of a vessel. You reached out to brush your fingers against the shining plaque and then you were underwater.

You fought the immediate impulse to gasp in surprise, because expediting the process of your inevitable drowning just seemed stupid even by your standards. There was a clawed hand wrapped around your calf yanking you down, and you squinted through a stream of panicked bubbles to see your terrible, horrible, completely thankless co-strandee snarling up at you with sharp teeth and a sharper flail of his delicate gills. Thankfully the water wasn’t all that deep, so by the time you’d been dragged to the bottom you were maybe only ten feet under. But still. It was the goddamn principle! And besides, you’d heard about enough drunks drowning in puddles to know that this was more than enough Liquid Death to put you in an early grave.

The Siren looped around you in tight circles, and you could feel the brush of his tattered fins against your skin like the ghostly fingers of a reaper trailing down your spine. You’d known he was big—giant, even. Long, and impressive, and built to rule the very depths he’d dragged you into. Large enough to wrestle with sharks and capsize lifeboats. Big enough, no doubt, to eat you whole and still be hungry enough for seconds.

The salt stung your eyes and you blinked hard to keep his vibrant, amethyst tail in focus. Would he strike from the back, where you couldn’t see? Or would he go right for your throat—a direct, full frontal, ‘fuck you, human’ if there ever was one. And honestly, what were you expecting? That a good deed and a few pieces of cooked fish would sway him from devouring you whole? Maybe the island sun had fried whatever remained of your rattled brain.  

He stopped in front of you and hissed—a stream of tight, tiny, bubbles jetting past his canines. You glared in petulant confusion, absolutely refusing to give your would-be murderer whatever reaction he was hoping for. His brow pinched into a tight, angry, v and he snarled again. You snarled back, and with that, the last breath in your lungs swooped out of you in a tight squeak. You choked, and struggled, and kicked at the claws holding you down. The Siren reared back, eyes widening in something that looked insultingly like genuine surprise, and you used his moment of hesitation to propel yourself off the sandbar and back to the choppy surface.

You gasped in a hasty breath, expecting to immediately be dragged back under. But when you weren’t pulled back down to your watery grave, you took in another and another. Gasping, and hacking, and spitting up seafoam. The Siren’s head crested the surface beside you and you flailed away, nearly pushing yourself under all over again. You paddled frantically, trying to keep your nose above the tide, and then suddenly there was something under you. You squawked and kicked it on instinct. The Siren snapped his pointy teeth in your face and you realized with a start that oh. That was him, wasn’t it? The long, winding, scaled muscles of his tail curled beneath your toes in what almost seemed like an attempt to keep you upright.

He stared at you with those unnervingly bright eyes of his—blonde hair curling softly at the edges where it plastered elegantly along his finned ears, and those too-long lashes dripping with small, sparkly, drops of salt water.

“What the hell is this bullshit?” you choked, coughing up more bubbly froth. “You don’t get to look so—so put together after trying to murder me!”  

The Siren huffed out something that the delusional, still half-drowned, part of you wanted to classify as a laugh. And then he organized that bemused expression back into its usual, haughty, iciness and began to carefully make his way back towards the shore—towing you along like a poor, little, lost buoy with nowhere else to go.

You let him drag you up into the sand and only flopped around a little. He flicked his tail at you and your dramatics and you turned on him with a fierce, waterlogged scowl—a bit more confident now that he didn’t have the home field advantage.

“What was that for! I just wanted to look at the ship! I wasn’t even doing anything to you!” you wailed. “I haven’t done anything to you at all! Ever! Why do you keep—" you collapsed back into the sand with a miserable whine that rattled all the teeth in your head, and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes until you saw stars.

After a long moment of nothing, you felt a gentle tap at your shoulder.

You looked back up with a start to see Mister Merman looking nearly sheepish.Or as much of an equivalent that his aloof mask of a face was capable of pulling off. The clawed finger resting at your collarbone dropped to the sand by your hip, and he carefully began to draw more of those squiggles. No, scratch that. Not the dancing, popping, ones from the other day. These actually looked sort of like the silver songbirds from that shipwreck. More jagged, certainly. But similar enough that you felt something a bit too coldly cautious to be confusion seep through your guts.

Once he was finished, he looked up and met your gaze—sharp, pointed. And then he reached back out and smeared the birds into nothing and shook his head, firm. His red lips moved slowly, exaggerated, again and again. And you could make out the vague shape of words you’d had shouted at you a hundred times over.

‘Not safe.’

That same, shivery, nervous feeling bit at your limbs.

“…okay,” you said after a moment. And then leaned forward to dig your own fingers into the sand, dutifully ignoring how your elbows knocked against his own.

‘Not safe,’ you wrote, and watched his eyes trace each letter like a treasure map.

There was another tap at your shoulder. And then he pointed to the words in the muck, then to himself.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes. You’re not safe either.”

He sighed dramatically enough to ruffle the ends of your still soaked hair. And then pointed to the words again, tapping at the ‘N’ with the curved tip of a claw.

“Nnnn?” you mouthed, confused.

He moved to the ‘o’ next and it clicked.

“You want me to teach you how to read my letters?” you asked, flabbergasted. Another sigh, like you’d dropped the weight of all the world on his pale shoulders. Or perhaps that your idiocy was enough to put that hearty mass to shame. You decided that you were still feeling a bit too much like you’d only just barely escaped a brush with death, dismemberment, and dinner plans to push your luck with sassing him back too harshly, and just blinked owlishly in dazed surprise. “But why?”

His purple eyes trailed in the direction of the shipwreck and something cutting and poisonous clouded his expression. He pointed to the words again.

‘Not safe.’

“Alright,” you said, looking out over the water with a strange sort of sinking feeling in your gut. You leaned forward and began to draw the alphabet at your feet. His tail twitched by your fingers and you ignored the soft brush of his still-healing fins. “This one’s an ‘A’, like in ‘Asshole’—"

Whomp went the tail as he cracked it across your knuckles like a school matron with a ruler. And you couldn’t help the startled burst of genuine, tinkling laughter that bubbled past your lips for the first time since you’d been dragged overboard.

.

.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

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[whereserpentswalk]

Choose a transformation to permanently alter your body and remove your humanity.

1: get infected with lycanthrope (being bitten is the easiest way, but the curse can also be passed on through blood transfusions, or other bodily fluids). You'll be able to turn into a wolf any night when the moon shines, and you'll be compelled to when the moon is full. The other werewolves are likely to accept you into their community under most circumstances.

2: enter a local ufo to be turned into a cyborg. The visitors are dying to find a human who'll let you do this to them, and you might just be the one. Parts of your body will be replaced with strange and unknowable technology, thousands of years more advanced than what your backwater planet has. Who knows what you'll become, but it certainly won't be human.

3: allow a demon to possess you. While this sounds bad at first, most demons aren't actually sentient beings, but just semi sentient balls emotions. When they possess you it'll still be your mind and personality, just enhanced with the demon's emotions and desires, given its abilities. You'll also probably start looking more like what people consider a demon to look like after awhile, weather that be a body with horns and scales like the classic devil look, or something more animalistic, or even something more eldrich.

4: let the faeries play with you. This is a risky one but they're looking to be entertained by a cute little human to do things to. Who knows what they'll do to you, but we can be quite certain it'll be something very very interesting.

5: permanently psychically bond to a wyvern through the dreaming. For generations humans have done this to become wyvern riders, though rider is an odd term as your minds will be linked, you'll be able to know what it's feeling as well as it's sensations, and possibly even be able to control it directly with enough time, as easily as you'd control your own body. Though the wyvern and dreaming may effect you to, you'll likely become more creative and have more vivid dreams, at the cost of your ability to fit in with much of human society. Your body will also likely become more youthful, slender and androgynous, and may even take on wyvern like traits like slit pupils or sharp teeth.

6: permanently hybridize yourself with an animal of your choice. It's useally done with mammals for compatibility reasons, but it might work with anything. This is a slow process, involving weekly injections of Phlebotinum, and you'll get more and more like the animal you choose over the course of many months. There's no actual end limit to how long you can inject the Phlebotinum for, only a few weeks for some animal features, about a year for a 50/50 split, and if you never stop taking it ever you'll end up just becoming an animal of your choice. Be warned, it's a one way trip, so while you can always become less human, you can never reverse the changes.

7: be melted into a slime. Not much more to say about it. It'll probably be the most alien your physical form can become, as you'll have no solid body parts anymore, just an amorphous mass to move around. Natrual born slimes may be suspicious of you.

8: get bitten by a vampire and become a vampire yourself. You'll get most of the powers, from strength, to healing, to not needing sleep or food, along with the requirements to drink blood, and the weakness to silver and sunlight (you still can go out in the sun, but it won't be a pleasant experience). Your body will also change a lot, losing any sex characteristics, gaining red eyes and completely desaturated skin, and becoming extremely emaciated looking. Your mouth will also be able to shift at will between a humanoid shape, and a massive horrifying maw with huge fangs and strange mouth parts for drinking blood. There's likely a vampiric community around who'll accept you.

9: become a digital only being. You won't just be transforming your body, you'll be getting rid of it. Your entire vision will display what you'd usually see on a computer monitor, and you'll be able to type and move the mouse as easily as you can move your body now. You'll be entirely online without anything human to worry about.

10: become a spiritual being. Like a less online version of the last option. You'll become a spirit, without a body to worry about. You can't touch things, but you can move them psychically. You can also choose who can or can't see you, and how you appear to people.

11: have your entire body replaced by the cloth witches. They're always looking for humans to do this to. Every part of you will be replaced with artificial materials, usually you'll get a metal skeleton, stuffing for filling, and either cloth or plastic for your skin, like a doll of some sort but big and alive. You won't have to worry about a lot of the body things like dying or being tired or in pain, but be warned, you'll have to repair yourself with new material if damaged.

(Hey, I had to delete the first version of this poll and reupload it because of something on the old post setting off my silly little trauma. I feel like such an awful person for this, I'm sorry. But yeah, please reblog and interact with this version instead.)

[lyneira]

♡ Things they'd do to gain your affection ♡

-> what would these twst boys do to show their love for you?

feat. malleus, azul, leona

MALLEUS

Okay, the real question is: what is Malleus NOT doing to gain your love? This dude will literally try anything and everything he can to show you he loves you.

Well, maybe he's not going to directly say "I love you and I want to be with you forever" just yet. He doesn't want to scare you away. So he's going to go for a lighter attack.

He'll invite you to his parties, to his homeland, invite you to go on walks/ruin exploring, and send you thoughtful letters (as he already does for Yuu in the game lmao)

He's also going to show up in places you wouldn't expect him to be, which tended to be wherever you were lol. While he'll look for more ways to spend more time with you, he also wants to help you with whatever task you have at hand.

As for words, he'd probably often compliment you and mention how much he admires you. And if you had low self-esteem? He would do so all the more. He'd be shocked if you had low self-esteem. He just couldn't understand it and he wouldn't stop until he got you to believe him. All his words would be genuine and true, he wouldn't flatter you falsely. He isn't the type. He simply would want you to see yourself the way he sees you- so beautiful and so worthy of love.

He will try to make his affections known as much as he can. He wants everyone to know that his eyes are set on you, so he's not going to want to be discreet about it.

AZUL

Another massive simp right here! If Azul ever fell for you, he'd fall hard. I honestly think Azul would be second to Malleus on the simp scale LMAO.

However, unlike Malleus, he'd try to be more discreet about it and would try to put on a cool front despite the great ardor he's feeling for you inside.

Azul would use his acquired knowledge of you to his advantage, figuring out all of your likes, dislikes, preferences, and would make sure to act accordingly to them. (nevertheless, he'll still try to learn even more about you and your subtleties face to face. It was more pleasant that way)

The Mostro lounge suddenly came up with a specialty dish based on your favorite food? That's great! That means you can come on over there more often.

Are you having difficulty studying for a certain subject? You're in luck! Turns out that he's got some helpful study notes laying around and he's willing to give them to you. He'll even offer to help you study, saying that it's just a show of gratitude for being a loyal customer at the Mostro Lounge.

And your favorite color? Well that so happens to be the color of the napkins/tablecloths at the Lounge during the month of your birthday.

He's gonna try to act slick but it would be plain to see that he's in love with you. It would be especially obvious to Jade and Floyd as they see how Azul treats you differently. He's doing all these favors and little things for you without any practical benefit. Why?

If confronted about it by Jade or Floyd, he'll say that he simply felt like doing it "out of the goodness of his heart", or that the tablecloths needed changing anyway, or some other excuse. He'll honestly act like such a tsundere.

But if YOU confront him about it- now that's a different case. As always, he'll try to act all cool and suave, but if you thank him with the warmest smile on your face or even hug him, he'll melt and get all red.

On the other hand, if you tell him that you're suspicious of him, he'll be a little hurt that you think that he has some bad ulterior motive behind his actions (though, in his head he will admit that he couldn't blame you)

All he wants is to see you face all aglow when you see what he's doing for you. Pay him back with your happiness and that'd be enough for him (for now)

LEONA

He'll hang around you very often. He would think that his prsence is enough to get you to fall for him LOL 💀

Nah but in all seriousness, if Leona loved you, he'd show it through his patience and tolerance for you. We know this guy doesn't like being bothered or going through any trouble, but he'd make an exception even if you were the "troublesome thing"

He'll allow you to bother him to an extent far greater than he'd allow others.

He'll listen to you yap away about your day, any complaints that you have, anything you're interested in, he'll listen to it all while closing his eyes. You might think he's sleeping, but I can assure you he's not. He's taking in all of your words and storing them in his head. He's learning more about you this way while he can sit back and relax (quite literally). He also enjoys simply hearing your voice. It relaxes him. It's when you stop talking that he'll finally open his eyes and see what's gotten you distracted.

He will also tolerate your tomfoolery. Heck, if it interests him enough and it isn't too much of a bother, he'll join you. He will aid you in your plans to disturb the peace and you two would be absolute menaces to the other students of NRC hehe #partnersincrime

He'll let you run your fingers through his mane and let your touch his ears as much as you want. While you're enjoying the softness and fluffiness of it, he'll also be relaxed by it as well. But be gentle with his ears, they're sensitive! If you rub or scratch a certain spot, you just might hear a soft purr from him. He'll deny that you ever heard such a thing though, teehee 🤭

a/n: I decided to switch things up a bit instead of writing the usual "how to gain their affection" stuff! Most of the hcs here parallel the hcs on there tbh lol. Thought they'd be cute tho

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[yandere-kokeshi]

dad ghost and ucle soap doing something for me so what if their adopted (read :kidnapped) kid secretly a mermaid?

— Yandere Dad! Ghost and Uncle! Soap with a mermaid kiddo

Warnings: yandere behavior, fantasy AU, and all Platonic!

A/N: This was fun to write! Enjoy!

It’s hard to keep this secret, no? Being a whole different species and forced to hide your ‘real-self’ is a pain, and once these two find out, they’re flabbergasted; looking at each other with wide eyes. And once, in their lives, they have no idea what to do. A good ‘welp…’ coming out of Johnny as Dad! Ghost stands there, unsure what to do or how to properly respond to the situation. 

Despite their surprised state, they quickly adapt — equally getting fascinated, and wondering how the hell you’ve hidden this for so long, without anybody knowing. 

Within a span of a couple of days, they educate themselves on you and your sea life. Buying books, reading internet articles, and sharing their own questions with you. They even go in depth about what your diet is, how your body works, if there’s any more mermaids like you, or if you eat fish. Of course, Uncle! Soap asks if you’re a siren, there are a lot of common traits in both of them, and honestly asks if you can sing. 

Despite your obvious need for water for survival, they both understand the phrase, “clean water”, and they both work on getting an enormous pool built just for you. Even if the cabin of a house is built deep in the mountains, you have a large pathway to a lake that they own; a sum of water that’s clean, and deep enough to discover minerals and kelp. 

They enjoy watching you swim, smiling at your happy state, and whilst Dad! Ghost won’t join you in the water, rather watching from afar as he reads on files or such. But as for, Uncle! Soap, he will literally cannonball himself into the water. 

Opposed to your lovely uncle, he’s quite touchy and loves to touch your tail. Of course, he won’t touch it if he sees you annoyed, or if you say no. But, when he gets the chance, he likes to admire the different shapes, scales, colors, and weight of your fins. 

As for Dad! Ghost, he’s oddly attentive to you. Whilst you know your body better than anybody else, he still tries to care for you. He goes out of his way to buy you special cream to keep your tail moisturized, ensure you’re hydrated enough, and keeping your gills healthy; looking for any tears or wounds of any kind. 

Uncle! Soap can be a menace with his teasing, and when you’re being snarky or breaking a few rules, he’ll joke that he’ll make sushi outta your tail. Of course, Ghost hits him in the back of the head. But he wouldn’t do that… would he?

They both work together — very hardly — to ensure the government doesn’t find out about you. They know what it’s capable of, people kidnapping you and poking you with needles to find out more information; keeping you captive like a pet. And they’ve both promised, as your guardians, that nothing like that will ever happen whilst they’re breathing. 

And because of that, they will execute any type of threats possible. If they see your friends getting suspicious, one day they randomly ‘disappear’. Any type of adults asking specific questions, or why you like the water so much, are found dead on the news.  

They both understand how much water means to you, which at times, Uncle! Soap sometimes suggests moving, and building a house near the salty sea; a place where you’re visibly comfortable and feel like you belong. He might even recommend taking a few trips back to Scotland a few times a year, letting you swim in the large lakes.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2024 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[ultra-violet-heart]

The story of a (soon-to-be) Princess Consort who uses her cruel husband's hands holding the sword to relieve the heat on her cheeks

(Image taken from manga illustrator Hinoki Kino's IG. It's kinda related to this short story.)

This is a bonus short story written by Touko Amekawa for the 7th Time Loop anime! I got the title from this post by Amekawa. It’s set on Rishe's 7th loop, and it's all about Arnold and Rishe... flirting in winter. Hehe.

Disclaimer: This translation is made by me for fandom purposes only. This unofficial translation is not affiliated with the official 7th Time Loop franchise. All rights reserved for 7th Time Loop to its respective committees, committee members, staff, author and rights holders.

The bonus short story can be found in Touko Amekawa's Notes blog, but as the entry is now deleted, she also reposted it in her Twitter/X account!

I’m posting my Ko-Fi here as currently, I’ve been having financial troubles, so if anyone can donate, I would be much grateful for the help, thank you very much.

"So in Galkhein, during the first month, a festival is held during the harsh winter in order to implore spring to come, isn't it?" As Rishe spoke in that manner, the pleasant sound of a writing pen then stopped.

As Arnold was busy on his desk with his official duties, he stared at Rishe, who was now seated on the chaise longue across him. This was where Rishe sat every time Arnold was at his office working on his official tasks.

(Images from the 7th Time Loop anime opening. Rishe isn't asleep in this story, though.)

"What are you reading, a book about official events being held in this country?"

"Yes! I borrowed it for my studies, and I find this book well-written and very interesting!"

Arnold's attendant, Oliver, was very quick at his duties, and whenever he saw Rishe showing even a hint of concern [on something], he would immediately make prompt arrangements.

When she thanked him for giving her the book, Oliver smiled naturally and said, "My Lord ordered me to immediately give you anything you want, Lady Rishe."

"When a country can hold a large-scale festival like this in winter, it's evidence of how prosperous this country is. It's fantastic."

The sound of cicadas and the summer breeze blowing through open windows. The view seen through the window would was really beautiful, even in spring and summer.

Just imagining the view in Galkhein's autumn and winter was enough to make one's heart leap in anticipation.

Though before that, there were things she needed to check, it seemed.

"During the festival, are there any public duties you, Your Highness, and I need to perform?"

"Don't worry, there isn't any need for that. ―――――And if there is, we don't need to participate."

"Great! It's a relief we won't be doing any exhausting work there." Relief now gave way to increasing anticipation. "Then, Prince Arnold! What kind of food stalls would you like for us to go to?"

"……?"

Arnold then wore a slightly suspicious look, so she continued to add. "If we don't think carefully the order of the food stalls we're visiting, we might get too full in no time. I want to check out all the stores you might think of visiting, Prince Arnold, so I must plan this efficiently!"

"........."

"Since we're going there in secret, why don't we buy new cloaks for the festival? It will be fun if you and I get cloaks of matching design, Your Highness!"

While the color of Arnold's eyes and hair were very distinct, the opposite went for Rishe, [with her eye and hair colors] being pale. Them already standing side by side made them quite a pair, so if they wore matching garments, it would be interesting to see.

"It's written on this book that many restaurants offer special menus during the festival! Like that restaurant you and I went to on our secret trip the other day, Your Highness. The food there was so delicious, by all means, I want to go there again during the festival!"

"......Well, if you don't mind."

"Thank you very much! Is there any place you want to go to, Your Highness? I'm happy to accompany you there, together......"

"........."

"Prince Arnold?"

As he expressionlessly stared at her, Rishe tilted her head, puzzled. Arnold then said something.

"You really don't have hesitation."

"Hesitation?"

Arnold stood, walked to the chaise longue where Rishe sat, then sat down besides her.

"―――Within you."

Arnold's sea-blue eyes focused on Rishe.

Rishe's face was reflected on his eyes as he blinked.

Arnold gave her a soft gaze, his fingers playfully running through her coral hair.

"You spending time with me like this will be a natural future."

"~~~~…...?!"

As he pointed it out, she felt her cheeks warm immediately. "B-b-but, that is...!"

"'That is'?"

As she tried to object, she became embarrassed of her unconscious assumption.

Of course, it was natural Arnold was there with her in the festival scene she imagined.

(Simply put, I want to be with him there, but if this continues, His Highness might find that out......!)

Averting herself from Arnold's gaze, Rishe managed to reply.

".....By the first month, when winter arrives, we will be an officially married couple......"

Why did she feel too much embarrassed after saying such an obvious thing?

(I-I don't think I can fool him at all......!)

To cool her flushed cheeks, she took Arnold's hands while he was still caressing her hair gently.

Pressing his hands against her cheeks felt cool and comfortable.

".....Rishe."

"Ugh......"

Believing that Arnold's cold hands would cool her burning cheeks somewhat, she barely manged to utter an excuse.

"From now, I-I'm looking forward to winter! Festivals... I love festivals!"

"......I see."

Would Arnold's hands get colder in the winter?

She was worried now that his fingers might get frozen while he was holding a sword.

Rishe hoped to give Arnold a pair of gloves way before the winter festival arrived.

As she got distracted by such thoughts, it took her a few seconds to realize how embarassing it was for Arnold's hands to be pressed on her cheeks.

[h50europe]

8.06 post mortem - Buck/Tommy - General - 9-1-1 Zombified

Many of us wondered why a cut emergency case from episode 7.04 was used. A novelty and if you look closely, you'll notice that the characters appeared very different from how they did in the rest of season 8, and the scenes felt erratic. This inconsistency is reminiscent of the writing from Andrew Meyers, who also wrote episode 7.04. However, in that episode, he had a co-writer who was clearly more talented. Episode 8.06 was poorly written compared to 7.04. Alone the scene in the beginning. Buck could have pointed out that this chick was interrupting the date he had with his boyfriend. Tommy then mentioned the Kinsey scale

Our walking encyclopedia had no idea what his boyfriend was talking about. Seriously? Also, Buck doesn't want to buy a present for their 6-month anniversary, and Tommy gives him 2 Lakers baseball cards and awkwardly mentions that Buck could go with Eddie? Is this dinner supposed to be romantic? Well, they could have gone to McDonalds. Meyers should have consulted his co-writer at this point; we're heading straight for disaster. Then Tim had this wonderful idea with Abby and thought it was hilarious. The guy's humour isn't just weird, it's kind of crude. Abby never mentioned that she went out with another guy from the 118. Isn't that weird? No one ever knew about it? Not Hen, not Chim? For two years? Did Tommy keep her locked in his basement? This plot is so poorly constructed that it's cringe-worthy at best. And that's when Himbo's jaw hit the floor… along with the audience.

The only good scene was Josh's GLEE speech. And I may be reading between the lines, but I felt that the way Josh talked about post and past GLEE and how Buck can't blame Tommy for his actions because times were different was a wink and a nod to the haters. I really had the impression that this was a cunning move to address why Tommy was who he was back then and why he has changed now.

But seconds later I nearly choked on my drink, and I can tell you it's orgasmic when a sip of Pepsi comes out of your nose, when Maddie said, "She wondered how many men Abby had turned gay." Because I was chatting to a friend before I watched the episode and I almost said the same thing. I live in Europe, so I watched it the next day, knowing what was coming, but nothing about that particular scene. Which, frankly, was terrible.

Forgive me for ignoring the emergencies in this episode. They were repetitive, to say the least, just with different protagonists.

So far we have a recycled episode, a recycled ex, a recycled emergency and a recycled scenario, Maddy is pregnant (hooray). It begins to reek of decay.

Brownie points to those who aren't already traumatised or bored to death. Now for the highlight: Tommy shows up at Buck's apartment in a great mood. He is looking forward to a date with his friend and hot sex as the icing on the cake (that's what I had in mind). Tommy gets suspicious when Buck asks him to sit down. It doesn't take long before he pulls out his phone and shows his friend photos of Abby and a younger Buck. This is followed by an awkward explanation of why he didn't share the news in the restaurant, and Tommy's reaction is a little awkward too. But this is only the overture to the worst retconning I have seen on television in a long time. The coincidence is swept under the carpet in the blink of an eye, and now it gets creepy.

Compare the scene in the coffee shop with this one. It has the same structure, bit by bit. Buck invites Tommy to the wedding in the coffee shop, and Tommy says, "What?" Here it is: "I want you to move in with me." We have a mashup of the first kiss and the coffee shop scene, and Oliver plays it similarly. The worst part is when Tommy turns into his zombie version. Excellently played by Lou. No doubt about it. He gave it his all. He maimed that shitty script, which felt like Meyers had raided AO3, picked the worst written fics and went for the most cringe-worthy insult he could find for a bisexual. "I was your first, but I won't be your last." Hello? This topic only comes to Tommy's mind after he is asked to move in together? I was expecting "I can't move in with you because I wouldn't know where to put my car lift and Muay Thai studio". No, it's because all the trust and love Tommy put in Buck is wiped out by the retconning of Tommy's personality. He succumbs to total chaos. This is not the Tommy we met in S7 and certainly not the one we met in 8.05. Fuck me! It didn't make sense. We would have needed a lot more background information ON SCREEN to make it believable. A scene from Tommy's past. Who hurt him so badly? It wasn't Abby. She only managed to traumatise Buck. Was it after he met Abby? Was it another guy?

Hello writers, are you still in your right mind? We have no clues. Neither the loyal fans and certainly not the new ones. You're reducing a character to a sad laughing stock. You rob him of all his merits, which you had Buck recite like a poem in school. And then you expect us to believe it? You steamroll over everything that's been painstakingly built up to this episode? It's actually convenient, I let the whole relationship run off screen. We don't see any flying lessons together, no training together, no cosy get-togethers in front of the TV, no exchange of affection, nothing. It's all headcanon. Guys, I've seen shows and movies where a sequence like this lasted five minutes and you knew where the couple stood. Maybe a flashback or two into Tommy's past would have helped. But no, instead the audience had to put up with the same old nonsense. A ridiculous story about an urn, a guy who sneezes and his intestines fall out, a kid who doesn't fall down a drain but slips down a pipe. They give us nothing, but we're supposed to believe everything, retconning is so great. If any of us wrote fanfiction like that, we'd be banned from AO3. And as if that wasn't enough, Tommy stands up and says, "Believe me, I didn't see this coming either. Tell me, were you on drugs when you were writing? There are a thousand ways to respond sensibly to "Let's move in together" without turning it into such a dumpster fire. The crowning glory of all this madness is when Tommy says "I'll see you around Buck" instead of Evan (the same words he said to Evan when he left him standing outside the restaurant on their first date). Where did that come from? It's as if Tommy had lost all respect for his lover, or as if he wanted to punch him in the face while he was already on the ground. We, the viewers, also had this feeling. And Tommy's behaviour was completely disturbed. I wonder if he checked himself into a mental facility right after that.

I won't say anything about the rest of the episode because I'm a polite person.

Conclusion: Please take the pen away from this lunatic and never let him write anything again or give him a co-writer like in 7.04. The guy is totally unhinged.

Extra brownies, you made it!

[the-faceless-bride]

🌊ᒪEᑕᕼE Oᖴ ᔕIᖇEᑎᔕ🪷

The boys woke up to an odd night. The smell of blood is all they could focus on. At first, it made them drool. But they all got suspicious once they remembered they were the only ones where.

They all dropped down and after confirming it was none of them they all ran to the curtains that covered Star and Laddie. And after frantically waking them up and fussing over Laddie. They noticed something.

A black bag sat against the wall.

It was full of stakes, bottles of holy water, blessed daggers, and of course... Garlic.

Typical.

But then that begs the question. If the Hunters bag was here...Where is the hunter? The boys realize this and it seemed a haunting song began to travel through the cave walls.

"La da de~ La dada la lada lada da~"

Marko and Paul look to each other as Dwayne and David walked deeper into the cave, the terror twins slowly followed.

"you hear that?" Dwayne asks as he tilts his ear into the air, "hear what?" David asks "What does it sound like?" David continued. They all had their own special ability, Davids was of tampering with the mind, Paul's nose, Marko's ability to observe behavior, and Dwayne with extraordinary hearing.

"it sounds like... Singing?" Dwayne answered though it sounded more like a question.

"singing?" Paul asked looking from Dwayne to Marko.

"La dade lada da lada da da da~"

The song grows louder as they continue down the dark new narrow path of the cave they never bothered to explore before this.

The closer to the song the richer the smell of iron, sparking an uncomfortable hunger within them. They didn't like how hungry they felt, especially in a time of potential danger.

"La da dee la da da la- dada ah ah~!"

The more they moved and now the more they heard the more they felt the need to press forward. Now not fueled with caution and panic, turned curious and... Enchanted?

The boys found themselves in an open part of the cave a large hole in the floor the reflections of water from the moonlight across the dusty cave walls.

The sound of dripping blood and ripping flesh echoed off the cracked walls,

"my hearts been priced by Cupid~"

The boys slowly and quietly made their way further,

"I disdain all glittering gold~"

All four pairs of eyes focused on the beauty of the creature with the enchanting voice,

"There is nothing can console me-"

The glimmering scales, bright eyes, and body covered in gems and pearls,

"but my jolly sailor bold.~"

"whoah" Was the first thing to leave Pauls mouth, causing the monster to fully turn it's body towards them.

Their eyes had a capturing glow, mouth with a line almost ear to ear like a snake, small scales along their soft skin, and seaweed tangled in their hair.

The creature smiled sharp rows of teeth exposed...

"Are you my jolly sailor bold?" the creature asked a rasp and unnatural squeak to their voice making them sound doubled and distorted.

... A siren.

A/n: 2000? FOR ME? REALLY?! THANK YOU SO SO MUCH!! also Monster Heram? Phantom reader, Siren reader, what's next? Idk you tell me! @ghoulgeousimmaculate here's something for you, thank you for the Marko fic earlier, it was very yummy.

[eskymoos]

Keegan P Russ As a Romantic Partner

Headcannons by Eskimos

I.  A Methodical Maestro with a Playful Twist

It's been confirmed that his personality type is ISTP, which means that his brain is his strongest weapon. He is methodical and very tactful with his language and would always offer a hand to you. Feeling lost? He's always there with a good solution. Feeling sad? He's the guy to ask for advice.

Even if he lacks experience in some fields he's very quick to learn and perfect them so I suppose he'd also be a bit competitive. Keegan doesn't miss an opportunity to beat you to everything you like. All while playing dumb in order to cherish the amazement on your end.

***

''How'd you do that?! Wow!''

''Just luck, I guess,'' he'd say with an indifferent shrug while a childish grin creeps onto his face.

***

II. The Jester of your Heart

Keegan is very reserved but he's a skilled people reader. He would quickly get used to your moods and soon you wouldn't even have to tell him when you're feeling sad. He just steals a glimpse and he already knows what to do.

However, sometimes the cocky side of him comes out in the most inconvenient time and things tend to get more spicy. Whenever you give him the silent treatment for no reason, he begins threading on thin ice with you.

***

''Whatcha want for dinner, sweet pea?''

*Silence.*

''What's wrong, my beautiful?'' He asks, coming closer to you. When you turn the other way to further provoke him, he guides his hands to your hips and presses the weight of his chest to your back.

''Funny little thing. Have you given a vow of silence? I like when we play this game, y'know.''

His hands drop lower and lower and his mouth comes to caress the back of your neck. His hot breath makes your hairs stand.

''Your heart's beating fast.''

III. Under the Hard Scales of His Heart

Independence is Keegan's last name. He never learned how to embrace the art of teamwork, though his job required it. At times he was too disconnected to properly do the job.

In a relatioship he might have some trouble turning to you for assistance. Whenever something is on his mind, he blocks out the world and faces it on his own. He's likely to turn down tips from other people.

Not from you though.

The first time you lent your hand for help, he was quite surprised and even a bit suspicious. It unlocked a part of him he never knew he had. He felt cared for and seen.

In time Keegan learned to trust your word and be less stubborn when you tried to aid him.

IV. Tsunami of Love

That's what he is. A natural disaster. A tornado of energy and a tsunami. Behind closed doors he is much less calm. His love language is mostly acts of service and physical touch but sometimes the two mix together into something even more grand.

If you happen to be struggling under a pile of undone work, he would find the perfect moment to distract you. Before you can even get a word out, he has already picked you up from the chair and carrying you to your room bridal style.

***

''What are you doing, Keegan?!''

He continues to march through the house and whistle proudly. Keegan tosses you onto the bed like you don't weight anything at all.

''Stay here.'' He commands, exiting and closing the door behind him.

In a few minutes time he comes back with your favorite chocolates and a beer for himself.

''I will be your only occupation today.''

***

V. The Kids' Favorite

The way I see it, Keegan would have very specific sense of humor. His jokes can be very sharp and borderline offensive but the moment a kid comes in sight he turns into a soft cinnamon roll.

He has this energy that kids absolutely adore because he's a great listener and adapts to the circumstances easily. There's something about the purity of the young generation that makes him feel protective.

***

One time you saw him play with a small group of children after a difficult operation. He was kneeling down in front of a little girl and his eyes glimmered as she tried to pronounce his name. The child obviously had rhotacism (cannot pronounce the letter r) and he found it quite adorable.

''Keegan Russ. Russ. Can you say it?'' Keegan bit his lip, holding back a chuckle.

''Keegan Hhhus.'' The girl tried to repeat it but failed terribly. Keegan burst out laughing.

''Rrrrrrrr,'' he growled playfully and she giggled at it.

''Grhhhrr!''

''Oh, you're growling at me now? Come here you.'' Keegan extended his arms to trap her in a harmless embrace.

There was something about his love for children that won your heart every time.

***