#i guess this is also a cat behavior study??

[iffondrels-library]

I LOVE giving these heroes big honkin ears. What's that? They're for hearing the gods? Nah I gonna make em scrunkly. Just absolutely ripped to shit like feral cats. They react the same way, too. Observe.

[saturnsbabyboii]

🫧My experience being friends with the Moon signs 🫧

-Please remember that this is not a reflection of everyone with said placement. The behaviors of a single asshole aren't that of the many (sometimes). Also, I don't/didn't have friends with all Moons. Some would have one person or no specific person, and rather so, I'll be giving general observations.

🫧Taurus Moon🫧

Friend #1: Kind, loving, generous, thoughtful, quiet, slow, and internalizes everything. She is one of my closest friends ever. She is practically the father figure of the group, helping everyone out, protecting them, advocating, giving advice, and making sure that they're set and good. Picky with her friends, many of them are people she has known since childhood, and most are her cousins with very few that aren't related to her. Tech and cyber expert. A big animal and nature lover. She loves her space and peace, she is slow to return texts, hates calls, and has the social battery of a sloth. Good singing voice. Loves video games, and is OBSESSED with whatever she has an interest in. Overall, her emotions are well-regulated, however, as an Earth Moon she rationalizes herself and stays pretty chill, even when she needs to pipe up.

Friend #2: Obsessive, jealous, sensual, persistent, indulgent yet very frugal, and stubborn af. A big-time foodie, he does have quite the appetite. Good singing voice too. Always at the clearance section of 'Bath and Body Works'. Thrifty. Got to have three of the same body spray. Candle queen. Trust issues with a very paranoid outlook on things. A bit greedy. Always asking people to buy them things. Very sexual. Cares for his younger sisters and loves his family and friends.

Friend #3: Big-time nerd. Memes are his only talking reference. Great singing voice and can imitate voices very well. Shy extrovert. Loves animations and even studied to be an animator and designer. Hugger. Big animal lover (he legit has what seems like a zoo of pets at home).

Friend #4: Obsessed with history (especially medieval history). All about death and our relationship with mortality. A literal cat. Isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. Goes all in on a subject of interest. Has the same appearance and sense of style as always.

I find Taurus Moons to be very comforting and a joy to be around. They defiantly bring a sense of stability to the relationship, mainly because they're predictable. Not in the "boring" sense but rather that they're people of clear and simple emotions no matter how grand they're in expression, it's pretty clear what they feel, how they feel, and why; Basically, there's no catch or an underbelly to their emotions. Other qualities I have found was that they're pretty aloof, they hate to be intimate with people they barely know, and they actually like fast-paced relationships (only if they really like you), they love to dress simply but chic, and they do have a well known "thing". They always got that "thing" you associate with them and they have it for comfort, like a kid with a blanket or a toy. They also love animals, pastels, the color brown, and karaoke. Hates confrontation and always second guesses their gut feeling. They're also very stubborn and in general, find it much harder to break out of habitual cycles of disconnecting and detachment when shit gets real.

🫧Gemini Moon🫧

Friend #1: Very smart. Great writer and lyricist. Talented musician and singer. Loves people. A bit timid about being in the spotlight. Loves to connect with others over interests, especially art and social issues. Great dresser. Romantic. Bends too fast. Dislikes confrontation but would stand up for a loved one. Bad judge of character (always attracts cheaters and assholes).

Friend #2: Certified L.A.B (lying ass bitch). Says shit for the sake of saying shit. Fake trauma bonding. Leeches off of people. Toxic. Abusive. Always with abusers. Manipulative and hateful. Been around the block. Would do anything for validation. Makes up stories about others to play the role of the victim. (Very likely she has a cluster B personality disorder and no Gemini Moon would claim her.)

I think I have experienced two extremes of this moon, with one being highly and continuously evolving and the other being consistently trash. I am fond of the energy that Gemini has on the moon. There's this innocence that they possess at the core, and it could be the purest and most genuine thing or the biggest fabrication in history. Nonetheless, I do love to be around them and the energy they bring to a relationship. It is always lively, fresh, and new, they'll always come up with something to do with you, and always find a way to spend time and be close to you. They definitely give mixed signals since they tend to be a bit playful, especially in their platonic relationships, and they are very touchy. They're bold and outspoken generally about how they feel. They're less guarded and more likely to share and talk about their problems and their opinions. In contrast, they would rather die than open up about their deep true emotions.

🫧Cancer Moon🫧

Talking about their ex was their favorite pastime. Never misses an important function. Celebrations and social events were considered important. The person that would want to go somewhere but then gets upset because things did not go how they imagined they would. Ruminates on past events and feelings. Vents a lot but also gives you the space to do so. Strong stan on temporary emotions and circumstances. Feels how she feels and doesn't care how others perceive her for it, or what they think about it. Low key ferocious (I live for it though). The only person I know that isn't afraid to publicly voice their boundaries when crossed.

I don't think I met another Cancer Moon besides this person, and we became friends only because we were together in similar classes at uni. Overall, I would say from what I have observed, her relationships with her friends were always great and seemed pretty solid. Romantically though, sis was very challenged, and I don't think it was totally her date's fault. She is an acquired taste and she knows what she wants. Seems very hung up on the idea of meeting expectations and fighting an imaginary clock to get THE perfect life. Good luck with that.

🫧Leo Moon🫧

Creative. Self-motivated. A visionary. The definition of an untamable person. Careful of who they keep company. Lives for an adventure. All about self-expressing, being authentic, and breaking the system. Great philosophical talker. Has true parental instincts. Very comfortable with themselves. Sexual. Great body-mind attunement. Good at mirroring others.

I have heard/read a lot of shit spewing about this placement, but I have to say that I do love to meet them. They're a breath of fresh air. Although I get how they can give an impression of a know it all "I am better than you" life dula, I never detect malice in their approach and usually they're more than respectful if you talk to them about it. They carry the weight of life with such ease, and I envy their perseverance. They definitely love to live life to the fullest. They have their select few friends that they have for a lifetime and like to keep it that way.

🫧Virgo Moon🫧

Never been friends with a Virgo Moon, although not for lack of trying but they themselves are quite apprehensive of bonds with people. They're close to their family and the friends they have they got to know them through school, work, or because they had no other option than to be around you. A molded chaos, and an organized mess. Life runs much faster for them and there's never enough time to finish anything. Despite their tendency to give everything a sense of debilitating urgency, they aren't hypochondriacs. Being strong and well functioning is important to them, as such they take good care of their bodies and surroundings. Oddly spiritual with a devolution to routine rituals. Their emotions are well hidden, they have the hardest exterior to crack. However, they're avid about mental health and wellness. I have also noticed that they tend to lash out, uncharacteristic of them, when they're overwhelmed or feel cornered.

🫧Libra Moon🫧

Friend #1: Very sweet. Bad Bitch™. Always looks good. Best dancer I know. Craves love and relationships. Attracts drama. They are very close to their family. Heavily underestimated. "Legally Blond" but Elle is a Latina that studies medicine. Loves astrology. Takes care of their friendships. Always on the go. Meeting new people all the time.

Friend #2: Pushover. Non-confrontational yet very aggressive. Easily frustrated. Closed minded to different interests. A bit extreme and abrasive. HATES astrology. LOVES the show 'Friends'. Self-critical. Insecure.

A placement that perfectly embodies Libra. Heavenly body and presence. Indecisive as hell. Always stuck in bad relationships. Head is always in the clouds. Romanticizing everything. Walking like they're being filmed. I would say there is an emphasis on companionship and finding "the one" throughout their lives, plus drama is second nature. They might be used to drama so much so that they lose sense of their boundaries and self, in turn making them vulnerable to manipulation and abuse. Their "all about me" era is like no other and is a true turning point in their lives. They seem to thrive when are surrounded by masculinity and masculine people, or overall very competitive and cut-throat environment. They use being underestimated to their advantage.

🫧Scorpio Moon🫧

"Me, myself and I". Paranoid as hell. Big spender. Artistic. Good at portrait sketching. Dresses well. Loves drama. Is the drama. Tone deaf. Low-key ungrateful. An immense sense of self-importance. Passive aggressive. PETTY. Mature exterior with very childish interests. Hypercritical of everything, including themselves.

"Jesus take the wheel" was made as a phrase for dealing with a Scorpio Moon. I get the fragility and being highly emotional and sensitive, that I read about. However, I mostly find them to be disagreeable and pensive. You never know what is the truth, so I assume everything is a lie, and if it's the truth then there must be a catch. They would wake up and the day already sucks. They love to surround themselves with expensive things. It's uncomfortable to be around a placement that seems to believe their own projections and preconceived notions of others rather than getting to know people, or maybe just mind their own business. I would say though that having a Scorpio Moon is probably unpleasant, but I have seen worse happen to other placements with "favorable" moons. And of course, I am talking about the ones that I have met and not every single Scorpio Moon out there.

🫧Sagittarius Moon🫧

Friend #1: Life of the party (actually the life of life). Loves to laugh. Comfortable with everyone. Always hype. Smokes like a chimney. Either brave or stupid. Hype. Frequent dealings with older guys. No chills. Loves to play with friends. Car hangouts over going into places. Funny on the outside, sad on the inside.

Friend #2: Very smart. Tarot mogul. Always a good time. Great convorsaitonlist. A softie. Very sensitive. Expressive.

Friend #3: Would cut a bitch. A true ride or die. A person you want to be on her good side. An unofficial dominatrix. Sweet but feisty. Loves her cat. Always lit. Would do anything for her friends. A good bullshit detector.

A favorite of mine, it is very hard not to like a Sag moon. They're so caring of others and are always making sure that you're good and having a good time. They're the type of person to trust if you're in a bar or a club. I would say that there is a very sad side to them under all that happiness. They're always anxious, which is probably why they don't sleep or eat very well. They also get a lot of migraines. If they open up then they really really really trust you (which is important to them since they can vibe and hang out with anyone but barely trust). They usually have a much calmer Earth sun best friend. I would say that they act much older than their when young but then seem to stay stuck on childish cycles of defensiveness and escapism as they get older.

🫧Capricorn Moon🫧

Friend #1: Artistic and crafty. Resilient. Capable of being very sweet and stern. Good with money, planning, and organizing. Maticolus. Conscious and realistic about their growth and development. Loves animals. Loves to be active in nature. A strong believer in karma.

Friend #2: A true powerhouse. Wonderwoman. My mentor and only real-life role model. An established businesswoman. Rags to riches. Despite having a physical disability she can drive, open pickle jars, do lifts and push up, plus she is a fashion designer that can sew. All of that with one arm. A fighter through and through.

Never had the privilege of being friends with many Capricorn Moons but I have known quite a few and some are very close friends of my family. A rough start in life. They really do take time to peak, however, the glow-up is real. Least spiritual Moon sign. Not egotistical or cold as I read so often. Quite warm and welcoming actually. They might be borderline Darwinists when it comes to the importance of human life and mortality. Believers of hard work and initiative. Lovers and fighters. Silent passion. When young, their relationship with their mother can be described as codependent, and their relationship with their father is strained with a sense of animosity. However, with time the roles seem to slowly reverse. Regardless, their family defenatliy takes precedence throughout their lives. They value respect more than anything else.

🫧Aquarius Moon🫧

Friend #1: Devoted to volunteer work and other people. The "fixer" type. Wants to be needed. Self-help books are all they read. Their interests and style are influenced by the people they're hanging out with. Accidentally (or maybe not) trauma bond with others. Desires to be a leader. Emotions focused. Worries about their reputation a lot. No luck with love. And also in friendship. Many friends, very few that are close, and only one has been consistent so far. Loves to have hangouts with large groups.

Friend #2: Music is their soul. Hippie. Loves acting. "center of attention". Dress based on aesthetics. TikTok addict. Interested in astrology and spirituality. Cold. Performative.

Friend #3: Know-it-all. Bad at expressing themself. No filter. Self-centered. Radical thinking. "Everyone is stupid". Loves to stand out. Learned how to finish a Rubix cube just to show it off. Having low grades is a "red flag" to him. Has a strong desire to be loved, yet none to give it back.

Friend #4: All about the drama and lights. Emotionally explosive at times. Hiding behind a facade. Loves to meet different people. Business savvy. Guarded but would give you their heart once they let it down. Displays emotions as anger when in reality they're scared. Superficial connections to others are more prevalent.

Generally, these people are dynamic and quite sociable. They're people focused in the best and worst ways possible. There is a constant desire to change surroundings (and at times help others change and grow) but they themselves tend to be relatively rigid at the core. Impressionistic (even though they would probably deny it). Self-image is usually not the reality (this could manifest in being overconfident or self-critical). They love to work with their hands a lot and do much better when working with others in comparison to working alone. They are altruistic but aren't attentive to others' desires; as a result, they believe they know better about everything and "what is best" depending on the situation. Imitates emotions rather than naturally expressing them.

🫧Pisces Moon🫧

Another very close friend of mine. Hard to read. Intelligent. People smart. Their friends are family. Uncomfortable with expressing their emotions, yet a good listener. Extroverted introvert. Loves to go out and meet people. Likes to club, going to parties, playing video games, and trying out new things. Loyal. Tough shell, soft heart. Doesn't give a flying fuck about what strangers think of them. Trophy hunter. A very realistic and pragmatic view of the world. Melancholic. They are perceived as troubled when they're just quiet. Low-key altruistic.

This Moon sign is not as bubbly as I have heard about it. They're hard to pinpoint as they usually come off as either Aquarius or Scorpio Moons. They tend to go through much more emotional turmoil, especially as children. They have a floaty feel to them. They feel a lot but nothing at once. They are usually witnesses to harm done to others and suffer losses related to other people rather be it themselves directly, which contributes to a sense of isolation from their peers. They do definitely grow into brave people that face life despite all the baggage they seem to drag around. By far the moon sign that takes the longest to open up honestly and completely, although they do experience spats of anxiety from time to time. Also FOOOOODDDD. They love food and everything that brings them comfort. Vices.

🫧Aries Moon🫧

Very emotional yet not expressive. Dedicated and strong-willed (she is a pediatrician). Hung up on "the one that got away". A true badass. So pretty yet so sad. Her dogs are her babies. Always choosing violence. Femme fatal that drives a Jeep Wrangler.

Emotions that cut deeper than a sword. They seem to compensate for emotional and inner needs with material things and career achievements. Very intimidating when you meet them at first, as they appear put together and quite the expert in their field. They spiral downwards if life doesn't go their way. Personally, I think this moon sign is the most emotionally rigid. Not for their lack of desire to change but rather that they get stuck on what their heart desire and can't seem to see or want anything other than that thing or person that they can't get. They also seem hellbent on trying to control what we can't control, such as the past, other people, and unforeseen misfortune. Highly upkeep on their exterior. Needs some form of vice to process emotions, usually it's smoking and drinking. They tend to be their parents favorite.

[theaveragepsychoticbitch]

Hey there!! Could I request some sfw + nsfw hcs of Poseidon , Buddha , and Nikola Tesla with a cat hybrid! Reader?💕

I've been wanting to do another hybrid readerrr😭thanks for the request <3 I'm not sure if I'm characterizing Mr Kola right, but there's a first for everything! I'll make the SFW and NSFW versions separate, so send another ask just to bookmark it would you?♡

Poseidon, Buddha, Tesla x Cat Hybrid!Reader || SFW || Headcanons || Warnings: Ur, none!

Poseidon♡

The king of the seas is ironically, a cat guy. When he sees you sleeping, tail tucked comfortably into your side with your ears twitching occasionally, a strange feeling comes over him.

You were definitely lesser, and he definitely despises you along with everyone else but... he supposes you may sleep in his private suite.

He somehow doesn't hear you when you point out that you didn't ask to sleep there in the first place.

Rubs your ears subconsciously. They're like a stress reliever for him, and dealing with other gods caused him great amounts of stress. He's embarrassed by it (though he'd die before admitting it) and so whenever he catches himself reaching for you, he has the audacity to get mad at you, and send you away.

Quickly calls for your return though. Which he also is embarrassed by.

Loves when you purr in your sleep. Late at night with nothing and no one to see how his face relaxes as the vibrations hit his chest. One large hand adoringly placed atop your head, he hasn't slept this well in eons.

Buddha ♥︎

His initial impression of you was unhinged; he'd caught you in some sort of... hiss-off with an actual cat. It was far too interesting a sight for him to simply ignore it. So he sat there, for ten good minutes, until you finally emerged victor! He jumped and cheered right along with you, scaring you shitless.

He once managed to spook you and watched as jumped far above his head, shredding the wall as you embedded your claws in it.

Your canines are a strange source of serotonin for him. Sharp as a lion's and strong as one too, you've bit the shit out of him a few times while he was admiring them- only a few weren't on purpose.

Once said "Why do they call them canines when you're a cat? Shouldnt they be felines?"

You bit him for that too.

Nikola Tesla ¤

He wants to figure out how you work. So, so bad.

He entered your life by grabbing you none to gently by the tail, hoping to gain insight from your reaction. While he did gain said insight, he also gained four new scratches on his face.

Pestered you for a long time with questions, none of which you answered. Eventually, advice from Buddha led him to setting up a nice dinner for the two of you- him, with a steak, and you, with a variety of fish and cat treats.

You appreciate the thought... you guess.

Always touching and poking you. He doesn't even realize how odly intimate he gets; holding your hand and playing with your fingers is just him studying how your claws extend. Trailing his fingers down your back is him trying trying to figure out if your tail connects to your spine or your ass. Massaging your ears? Ur, well... he hasn't come up with scientific reasoning for that yet, but he will!

(His excuse is that purring has been proved relaxing for humans, and wants to see if it still works with you. Doesn't know he could have asked Poseidon 🤦🏾‍♀️👀)

Adores when you loaf on him, or "bake bread". He finds the semi-human equivalent of these cat behaviors to be extraordinary, and asks you dozens of "why?" And "how?" questions. When he asks too many, you stop, and don't continue until he promises to be quiet.

--------

A/N: I'm literally a comedic genius guys. Not proofread!

[star--anon]

Do you have any headcanons for thominewt?

this took me several days because I was determined to make this post comically long and I genuinely don't remember why

I also ended up not making it comically long

so uh. sorry

anyway, OH MY GOD SO MANY

Newt is exceptionally good at guessing when Minho and Thomas are trying to hide their pain

and he has no issues with dragging them to bed

Minho probably does stupid shit like "birthday noogies" or whatever, which has inspired a 2v1 of Newt and Thomas VS Minho on April Fools

(Minho still wins, somehow)

Thomas gets dragged into things like astrology and fortune telling by Newt

Every time Minho tries to tell Thomas how stupid astrology is, Newt just scoffs and goes, "Typical Pisces behavior" and drags Thomas away

Minho is not a Pisces. Minho is a Libra.

Thomas calls him an "asymptomatic Libra" and Newt is very quick to jump on that train. Minho hates the both of them so, so much.

Thomas is a Virgo. Newt is a Taurus.

Minho can be turned into putty with enough kisses and hugs and gentle touches. It takes Thomas hours of work, but it's so worth it.

On the weekend, Newt often comes home to a pliant Minho with his face buried in Thomas' chest. Thomas just giggles.

Thomas loves long walks.

Sometimes the three go out together: Thomas strolling down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace; Newt several paces behind, stopping every few seconds to snap a photo of something cool with his fancy camera; Minho several blocks ahead, sprinting like his life depends on it, doubling back whenever he gets too far away.

Thomas and Minho are on piggyback duty if Newt's ankle ever acts up in the middle of a walk

Thomas once fell down trying to pick Newt up, so piggyback duty has mostly been delegated to Minho

Speaking of which, two of the rooms in the house (one of them is Newt's bedroom) are padded with extra insulation to keep it nice and warm during the winter because the cold messes with Newt's ankle

Minho carries heating packs in his pockets at all times and rubs them against Newt's ankle whenever the pain gets unbearable in public

Sometimes it helps, mostly it doesn't. Newt appreciates the effort.

Thomas tries to fight doctors who are reluctant to prescribe medication and/or painkillers.

Thomas studied law and is not afraid to use his Master's.

Newt wanted to get a bird, Minho wanted a dog, and Thomas wanted a cat. They compromised and bought fish.

Newt has names for each individual fish, Minho named all of them Guppy, and Thomas' names for the fish change with each conversation.

Newt prefers baggy clothes and often just steals Minho's stuff because Minho is SO FUCKING JACKED- ...because Minho's shoulder span is so much wider than Newt's

the only issue is that Newt is about three inches taller than Minho, so Minho's "big shirts" are like baggy crop tops

Thomas, who is more Newt’s height, starts buying clothes that he knows Newt will like and smirks whenever it disappears.

When the three go shopping together, Newt often shoves clothes that he wants to wear into Minho and Thomas' carts.

Thomas and Minho like to make bets with each other like "He'll take this one within a week."

[astro-nomaly]

The Graveyard Shift: Attack Dog

GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM THE PSYCH WARRDDDDDD

Me? Posting two au spin-off snippets in one day? Well, technically two days bc it's 12 am now, but whatever. Anyways uh @mother-spore-missa @highbookwormofthecentury flirty anon that I'm somewhat convinced is @chaotetothecore here's some graveyard shift content

For context: in the official AU, Akita runs away when her brother is mutilated, and ends up in Jamanakai in time for Harumi and Lloyd to also show up. Here, she decides to get revenge instead of running. I literally just spell-checked this so don't expect poetry here mkay

CW: blood and gore, cult setting, stalking, emotional manipulation, magical slavery (?), non-consensual touching, dehumanization, non-sexual restraints, body horror (kinda), psychological horror (also kinda), brief instance of casual cannibalism, graphic murder, graphic description of a corpse, obsessive behavior, implied torture. Uh I think that's it but if anyone thinks I need to include smth else lemme know mkay content under the cut

Frigid droplets of water slid down the slick black stones of the catacombs, congealing on the edge between the walls and floor. It was cold enough to freeze, creating slick patches of frost in the otherwise arid room.

It didn't bother her any. She was quite used to the cold by now.

She hummed, her voice soft and lilting, near silent. The polaroid picture of a young boy - 15, at most - with bleach blonde hair and radioactive green eyes sat on the frigid desk before her, in the corner of her personal 'study'. The boy's pitch black sclera matched her own, though her irises were a hot, intense pink. A sharp painted nail languidly tapped against the boy's head. He was facing in another direction, unaware of the photo being taken through his window.

So, so stupid. She couldn't wait to use that. This little liminal might just turn out to be her favorite plaything yet. Of course…

"You're so much more than that," she whispered near-silently, her nail tracing his soft jawline. By this point, she knew more about this boy than he knew about himself. Every facet of his life, from his favorite meal to the order he tied his shoes in - left, then right - was meticulously observed and recorded. This boy was more than a fun toy, more than another target.

Lloyd Garmadon would be her savior. The Conduit… the Conduit would free her. He could make her a real person again.

Her eyes flickered at movement in her peripherals. A dim laptop, grimy from dust and muck, featured glitching grey security camera footage. A woman, mid-forties, silently screamed and banged on deepstone bars. She chuckled, leaning her head on pale white knuckles. Misako Montgomery Garmadon, hair askew and glasses broken on the floor, screamed her pathetic little throat out. You'd think after nearly two months, the woman would have given up.

Entertainment like this made her glad she hadn't just killed the woman. And, of course, it really would have been such a hassle…

A creaky mrow disrupted her thoughts. Without moving her head, she looked at the source. The cracked, dirty skeleton of a house cat greeted her. The flesh and fur of the animal was long gone, leaving behind grimy, but perfectly preserved bones, meticulously assembled in its exact skeletal structure. All except the neck, twisted and cracked beyond repair.

The reanimated skeleton hopped onto her desk, uncaring of the cold, and butted against her chest. She smiled, a rare thing, and skimmed the tip of her finger over its head. Her pet batted at her long, snow-white hair.

"Funny… isn't it?" She whispered. The unnamed cat paid her no mind, twisting its dull talons in her hair. She hummed, watching as Misako Garmadon finally gave up and slumped against the wall, shivering. "She's so… desperate. For someone who doesn't even realize she's gone. Can you believe it? All I have to do to shatter that hope… is send a text." She pulled Misako's phone from her pocket, holding it between her pointer and middle finger like a trump card. She thought about it, teasing the woman's son's contact. She could picture it now - the blonde would light up like a child on Christmas morning, ever-so-happy to have attention from mommy dearest. Hell, she could pull up the footage of his apartment this second and watch it in real time. It was tempting to go visit Misako herself, just to watch the woman crumble as she saw her son freely offering up information of his day to a complete stranger.

Ah, but alas, she had things to do. The time to act was closing in, and she needed to make sure Jamanakai was ready for the Conduit.

Her cat looked up at her with black, soulless eyes and gave another mrow. She smiled, thin-lipped. "It'll have to wait," she whispered, stroking a dainty finger along the skeleton's cracked skull. The cat rumbled in imitation of a purr, pressing against her skin. Its tail curled up around her hand as she stroked it.

She sighed, leaning back in her rickety chair. The room was dim, lit only by the artificial putrid green light pouring in from stained glass windows. Of course, they were only decorative - she was so deep underground, light had no hope of reaching this place. The room was bare, walls lined in knick-knacks. The skull of a fox was nestled between dead vines, the skeleton of a snake with its maw wide open curled around a jar of black-sclera eyeballs swimming in green. A few dozen books filled the empty shelf space.

A small kitchenette lined most of the back wall. Putrid ingredients - the bones of animals and human alike, the throbbing organs of a few dozen organisms, the bottled souls of the damned - filled the space. The only non-practical decoration in the room was her tea set. Smooth, uncracked porcelain teacups and a pot sat upon a short wooden table, covered by a lacy white tablecloth. Ghost plants - drooping white flowers with petals like bells - scattered across every inch of her room. Officially, this space was simply a room to work in. Unofficially, it was her safe haven. Far more comfortable than her real bedroom, anyhow.

A boot tapped against the ground. Her thoughts these days were consumed by the Conduit - how she would befriend him, how she would manipulate the awakening of his powers, how she would lead him back to the catacombs - so much so that there was little room for anything else. Should all go according to plan, she would lure the Conduit to Jamanakai Village, isolating him completely and utterly. In such a Thin, liminal space, his connection to the Veil would awaken quickly. No, it was getting him to use those powers that had her in a bind.

For her purposes, he needed to be powerful. But if he was powerful, then she couldn't force him to do a damn thing - so she needed him to want to do it. So manipulation it was. Luckily, she was quite the master of it.

The cat suddenly arched its back, hissing violently. With no vocal cords, it was more of a scratchy, nails-on-a-chalkboard grinding of bones, but it was the effort that counted. She frowned, following her cat's lifeless stare to the heavy, ornate black door. Distantly, she could hear the sound of a scuffle.

Hm. More interesting than her Conduit homework, surely. Really, she knew the boy up, down, left, right, and sideways at this point. She stood from her seat, hair falling around her shoulders listlessly. The cat hopped from the desk to curl around her neck, still hissing, now directly into her ear. The sound didn't bother her after all this time.

She entered the long, dark hallways of the catacombs. The occasional stained glass window interrupted the bleak halls, providing artificial light. This far down, torches were too risky. She walked down the long, wide, arched hall, boots clicking against cracked stone. The further she walked, the louder the sound of fighting got.

Finally, she reached an open space. The room was wide, circular, almost like a colosseum. No, she thought, looking down from the upper level to the carnage below, exactly like a colosseum.

The sight was gruesome. Bodies, torn open and guts spilling across the pristine marble, lay scattered across the underground cathedral. Their faces were marred in blood, skin torn from their bones. Their torsos had entire chunks ripped out by violent teeth, tendons and organs broken across their bodies as they dripped bloody fluids.

In the center of it all, a giant white wolf. The beast growled, powerful teeth bared in a violent snarl. Its maw dripped red, congealing around its paws. It was bigger than any animal had any right to be. She looked gazed, interested, at the set of three red-tipped tails and six powerful legs. Two small eyes glared underneath larger ones, glowing a solid red with sheer rage. A changeling, then, or 'formling' as they were occasionally called.

A dozen members of the compound, all liminals and armed with spirit-amulets, yelled as they sent Poltergeist after Poltergeist, Haunting after Haunting, but the changeling wolf didn't waver. Its jaws, teeth glimmering with sick red, snapped around the ghostly forms, ripping already incorporeal bodies in two.

She hummed, leaning on the iron banister as she watched the carnage unfold. The wolf sprang forward, targeting a lowly member - weak, cowardly, stupid to boot - and tore into his torso, flinging his limp body across the colosseum. It hit the wall with a sick, broken crack, sliding down and leaving a trail of gore behind. The cat on her shoulder hissed, arching, and she shushed it. This was far too interesting to intervene.

To her delight, the white beast shifted, form rippling as the white body became a white cloak. The skin of a white wolf covered the form of a young girl. She had dark skin and thin, angry red eyes. A tail, still attached to her body, twitched behind her. A pair of white ears sprouted from her wild black hair. She was dressed in layered whites accented with red, and sported a sharp dagger at her side.

"Where is he?!" The girl screamed, voice cracking in her rage. A man took the transformation as invitation to attack - the changeling cut his throat. She savagely ripped into him with snarls and growls, plunging her blade into his throat again and again.

"My," she whispered from her vantage point high above, "this keeps up, we won't have anything but ghosts."

It wouldn't be such a bad thing. Most of these people were terribly incompetent. Ah, but alas, the Overlord would be displeased to lose his little sycophants.

God. As if she gave a shit about the Overlord. What a fucking loser.

But… the vessel would be disappointed if she just sat back and let people die.

Her thoughts were interrupted by some man, early twenties perhaps, with black sclera and pale blue irises. He gasped, hunching over as he caught his breath. She only looked down on his, expression flat and disinterested.

"Q-Quiet One! There's a changeling-"

"I'm aware," she cut him off. He fell silent immediately, eyes flicking up to her cold face. She pursed her lips, turning her neck to look down on the changeling in question.

She had become a girl again, though snarled like a beast all the same. In a fluid motion, she dropped down, sweeping her legs to topple her opponent. She wasted no time in pouncing, plunging her blade down into his chest like a lamb to the slaughter.

The Quiet One smiled thinly, her eyes thinning into sharp crescents. "Restrain her. And keep her alive and unharmed. Should she be in any less than perfect condition…" from the corner of her eye, she glared at the pathetic, sniveling man before her, looking up at her like some kind of god.

An angry god.

"…I won't hesitate to let her hunt the lot of you down like mutts."

The man swallowed, bowing his head shakily. "Y-yes, Quiet One."

The Quiet One smiled, clapping her hands together cheerfully. "Fantastic. Bring her to me when you're done."

The man jerked his head in a nod and ran off, shouting all the while. The Quiet One remained in place a little while longer, watching the changeling girl slaughter liminals like they were an infestation to be eradicated.

Yes… she'd do nicely.

Within the pale, dark room, she flicked her hand. The crystal laced around her neck glowed a sharp pink color, and a ghoulish figure rose from inside. Its form was muddled around the edges, undefined. It could only form the vague shape of a human, shroud in shadow. Two glowing pits replaced its eyes, and a sharp, jagged slit replaced its mouth.

It moved accordingly, mindless in its task. Floating through the room, it rearranged furniture, drawing up two thick chairs on either side of her tea set. The Quiet One sat down, facing the door, and silently commanded her ghoul to make tea in the back. Times like this, she could almost tolerate the thing's presence.

Just as her kettle began to steam, the door was shoved open. The Quiet One narrowed her eyes at the loud noise disrupting her room, and the cat on her shoulder hissed, leaping out of sight. No less than four liminals, all with black sclera, forcibly dragged the changeling girl through. Their skin was torn from their flesh, sharp wounds ripping into muscle and sinew as they bled all over her nice floor. The changeling girl was unharmed, save for a thick bruise across her face.

Hm. It was acceptable. Annoying, though. She'd have preferred the changeling unharmed at all.

She flicked her hand. "Leave her."

The changeling, muzzled, growled sharply. The other four glanced between each other uncertainly. "But… Quiet One-"

"Now."

Her voice alone cast a chill over the men, and they stiffened. One jerked his head in a short bow, then led the other three out of the room. The door locked behind them.

The changeling watched them go, confusion temporarily clouding her anger. She eyed the Quiet One warily, fists clenched at her sides. They'd stripped her of her knives, and likely wrapped that vengestone so tightly around her neck that if she even thought of shifting, it would strangle her.

Perfect.

She leaned back, crossing her legs daintily. "Hello," she whispered softly. She gestured to the chair on the other side of her. "Please, sit."

Those hot red eyes glowed, and the changeling's face contorted into an ugly, angry expression. She snarled from behind her muzzle and shot forward, sharp hands poised to kill.

The Quiet One rolled her eyes with a low sigh. She flicked her hand, and at once, ghoulish hands, sharp and dripping mucky slime, curled from the stone. Dozens strong, they gripped the girl's arms, hair, legs, collar. The changeling wolf shrieked, surprised, as she was halted inches away from the Quiet One's face.

The Quiet One grinned, showing off the barest hint of her own teeth. She rose one dainty finger, and tapped the girl's muzzle. "Boop," she giggled. Those red eyes widened, probably shocked at her audacity, before the dripping hands forcibly dragged her backward. She was bodily shoved into the other chair, restrained in ghoulish claws.

She let the changeling to struggle futilely, watching her all the while. Where she'd once assumed the girl's cheeks were stained in blood, there were sharp red tattoos. Three on each cheek, like little claw marks, framing her blood-red eyes. The Quiet One could only smile wider at the sight.

They matched.

"Are you done, yet?" She asked, mostly just to see if it would annoy the other girl. She couldn't be older than 16, and was terribly pissy. Sure enough, the changeling growled, eyes flaming behind the muzzle. The Quiet One giggled at the sight.

"You caused quite the scene, down there. I saw it - you were magnificent, really." The changeling paused her struggles at the words, confused to hear her enemy complimenting her. The Quiet One betrayed no malice, leaving her own expression open and genuine.

Well, as genuine as she of all people could ever be.

She leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. "Really, it was… wow. You know?Just, inspiring, really. You must be pretty powerful - or very well trained."

She internally snickered at her own pun. Just like a dog. I wonder how she'll fair on a leash?

The changeling kept staring, wary, but she seemed to relax ever so slightly. She kept her furred boots planted firmly on the stone floor, her arms restrained to the thin armrests of the chair. The Quiet One hummed, feigning sympathy.

"That must be uncomfortable. I am sorry - but if you keep trying to kill me, I can't release you. But, here - let me help a little."

She snapped two thin fingers. One of the hands around the changeling's upper arm rose at the silent command, twisting in the stale air. The changeling hissed, leaning as far as she could away from it. Uncaring, the long, thin claw-like fingers slowly pressed at the muzzle. It smoothly undid the straps, releasing the wolf-girl's jaw.

The changeling watched it return to position, working her jaw. The Quiet One remained silent, waiting to see how the girl would react. She turned her glare over, staring daggers into the Quiet One's eyes.

"…who are you?" The changeling rasped. She had a pretty voice, with a thick accent that curved her r's. The white wolf's ears on her head flicked.

She grinned. "The Quiet One. And you?"

The changeling hunched her shoulders, wary. But eventually, she relented. "…Akita," she mumbled.

"No last name?"

"No."

The Quiet One hummed. Her finger lazily trailed the silver design of the table between them. Akita twitched at the movement, her arms reflexively straining against the ghoulish claws that held her down. She growled quietly.

"Let me go," Akita snapped. Her shoulder jerked, trying to break free. A slender, clawed hand dug further into her clothes, breaking the fabric as it dug into her skin. Akita hissed in pain.

The Quiet One only watched. Her eyes transfixed on the pale red that pooled around the tear, slowly dying the pure white. It was a much lighter red than the blood of her victims, splattered across her front, still dripping from her mouth…

Hm. She had quite the bite, didn't she? The Quiet One wondered just how much those teeth could pierce skin. Enough to rip out a man's jugular, surely.

…who's he?

The Quiet One's eyes sparkled at the thought. "No can do, sweetheart," she whispered back cheerily, "'fraid you caused quite the ruckus. You know, if the Overlord or - oh, god forbid - the Mistress had been there…" She trailed off, letting Akita feel the discomfort, the silent threat. Then, she shrugged, as though nothing had ever been wrong at all. "Good thing I'm the one who caught you. Anyone else would be happy to throw you down a shallow grave."

Akita gave her a wary, but curious, look. She remained silent, but the Quiet One could see the way she longed to ask her question.

3….2…1….

"…why didn't you?"

Bingo.

She grinned sharply, baring her teeth like fangs. "That's just the question, isn't it?" Her fingers tapped along the silver table like stick-people doing a can-can, dramatically tip-tip-tipping on the metal. "You interest me, 'Kita. The way you fought - oh, sure, very impressive. But I want to know the why."

"Why?"

"Mm-hm!" She gave Akita a squinty, closed-eyed smile. "You've got a story, hon. Like… oh, I don't know… him?"

The single word, the eerie little taunt, immediately threw Akita into a frenzy. She snarled, jerking forward in her chair. The ghoulish claws grappled at her, tearing through fabric and underclothes and eventually even skin, but she didn't notice. Akita got as close as she possibly could to the Quiet One, close enough for her to see the blood still pooling in the changeling's mouth.

"Tell me where he is!" Akita screamed. A slender hand, skin peeling off of bone, scraped against the girl's face. Akita didn't spare it a thought. "Tell me where he is so I can rip his throat out!"

The kettle screamed.

The Quiet One scooted her chair back, standing. She didn't spare the screaming changeling another glance as she quietly walked to the back of her room, taking the kettle off the stove top. Akita continued to yell and snarl, caught up in an angry frenzy. The Quiet One simply poured two cups of tea, pouring enough sugar to kill a small child into her own.

She returned to her seat quietly, giving Akita a look. The girl's chest heaved, but she had shut up. Her teeth remained bared in a threat. She almost laughed - what could this changeling do to her?

Her enemies, on the other hand…

"Are you done yet?" She asked. She took care to make her tone amused, not cruel or patronizing. Akita growled, deep in her throat.

"Where is he."

The Quiet One crossed her legs and took a languid sip from her cup. The tea was already cooling. "Sweetheart, I can't help if I don't know who he is."

Akita blinked. "Help?"

"Of course!" She placed the second cup, a pretty red-pink color, in front of Akita. She obviously couldn't grab it, but the invitation - the intent - was clear. "Nobody fights like that unless they've been wronged. I mean… you come, storming into a liminal stronghold, murdering everyone in sight without so much as an explanation? I'm invested."

"I'm not telling you anything," Akita snapped.

"Shame," she sighed. "Because I really thought we would be able to help each other."

Akita just thinned her lips. The Quiet Oneinternally swore. This girl just had to be so stubborn…

Patience.

She gave Akita another kind smile, sympathy dripped from every pore. "I'm trying to help. Someone has to pay for that debacle downstairs, and everyone wants it to be you. But, if you just gave me something to work with, we might be able to work something out, the two us."

"Bite. Me."

The corner of her eye twitched. If she had more time for this, she could draw it out. Put the girl in a dark little cell, long enough for her to forget the passage of time as hours blurred into days. She could cement herself as the one true confidant in the changeling's life. Alas, her extended mission with the Conduit was fast approaching. If she was going to take advantage of this opportunity, she had to do so now.

How annoying.

"I don't want to hurt you," she continued to needle at Akita. Then, something clicked. She set her cup down, porcelain clicking against silver. "…but you have been hurt, haven't you?"

Akita stiffened. Her white, fluffy ears pinned themselves to her head. The Quiet One had to suppress her grin.

There it is.

She kept her face sympathetic, leaning in. She didn't like guess-work, but something told her she was right on the money.

"Changelings have two souls," she said softly, and watched as Akita's pupils shrunk, "it's what enables your shape-shifting. But it's not so simple - they're intertwined, practically a single soul all on their own. It's fascinating. But you avoid us, and we avoid you. So the only reason you would be here, in the thick of it all… is if one us hurt you first."

Akita's jaw clenched, an instinctive attempt to beat back her own tears. "Shut up! Shut up!"

"It's him, isn't it?" The Quiet One pressed. Akita was just on the verge of cracking, she only had to give the girl a nudge…

"Shut up! You don't know anything!"

The Quiet One stood, rounding the table. She leaned down next to Akita, whispering in the wolf's ear on her head.

"He's done something to someone you love. Hasn't he? What did he do? I know what it's like to be afraid of men. Tell me what he did to you - let me help."

Akita's breath hitched, once, twice. Then she broke down, head bowing in defeat as hot tears ran down her face. The Quiet One, out of sight, grinned. She cooed, leaning her hip against the chair as she cradled the changeling's head, pulling the girl into a loose embrace.

"Oh, you poor thing," she pet the coily, wild black hair as Akita sobbed and sobbed. The girl leaned into her, desperately seeking the meager comfort. It was like she'd forgotten who had her tied up in the first place.

Oh, but she was so good at it, wasn't she? It was hard for anyone to not feel soothed by a pretty, sympathetic girl, ready to provide comfort and understanding. And for Akita, to be met with someone her age, with such understanding… oh, it was just too fucking easy.

Akita sobbed into her chest as the Quiet One continued to pet her hair, smiling down at the changeling like a cat who'd caught her mouse. When Akita could barely breathe through her sobs, the Quiet One cradled her jaw, lifting her face. Her thumb skimmed over the thick bruise, pressing in ever so slightly. Just enough for Akita to feel the sting.

"You've been so hurt," she whispered. In Akita's wide eyes, she saw herself. Long, pin-straight white hair, the upper half of her face coated in thick red paint, her eyes shining against the pitch black of her sclera - a bloody angel. Her other hand, the one not pressed into Akita's bruise, came around the smooth back the sweaty hair from the girl's forehead. "Tell me how to fix it."

Akita sniffled. "My brother," she gasped wetly. Her eyes shut, like the words were just too painful. Her head leaned further into the Quiet One's chest, begging for comfort. "My brother, my- Kataru, he- he tore him apart!"

"Your brother? What was he?"

"A bear!" Akita screamed, spittle flying from her mouth. Tears mingled with snot and spit as her chest heaved again, anger and grief mingling together. Both were emotions the Quiet One was familiar with. "That- that monster, he tore him apart! He tore my brother in two, he doesn't even- doesn't recognize me anymore!"

"Oh?" The Quiet One carded her hands over the base of Akita's ears, making them twitch.

Akita slumped. "He doesn't even- he doesn't even recognize me," she whispered. Tears dripped from her jaw, landing in the growing puddle in her lap. All she could do was press herself into the Quiet One, shaking and trembling head to toe. How broken. How utterly defeated.

She hummed, still stroking the changeling. Her kind were so susceptible to physical kindness, weren't they? Oh, how fun it would be to see how far she could take it…

How pliant.

"You mean… like this?" She leaned over Akita's shoulder. The amulet around her neck slipped from the collar of her black cheongsam, hanging midair. It glowed in pink, and hot pink smoke drifted from it's core. Akita watched, wide eyed, as the figures of a human and bear took shape, entwining in each other. The Quiet One blew onto the smoke like a birthday candle, and the two figures were torn from one another. Akita's breath hitched at the sight, wide-eyed as she stared at the human figure. It bent over, clutching its head with a silent scream before it vanished, no more than simple smoke.

Akita's chest jumped. Her breathing stuttered, uneven and fractured. Then, just as the Quiet One predicted, her face contorted dramatically, fury bleeding from every pore. "where is he," she hissed, barely restrained. "Where the hell is he?!"

The Quiet One hummed, amused. She straightened, her amulet falling back against her chest. "Just give me a name, sweetheart," she cooed, clasping her hands together, "and I'll let you rip out his jugular."

Akita stared up at her, dumbfounded. The Quiet One only smiled. The changeling snarled, fangs dripping blood, "Vex."

"Perfect," the Quiet One purred. Her hand cupped the amulet. It glowed briefly, and she felt the soul slip out the room, gone to find the man. "Don't you worry, doll. I'll let you kill him. I'll let you take as long as you want to do it."

She hummed to herself, slowly walking around the room in big, dramatic steps, hands clasped behind her back. Akita watched her like a hawk. The Quiet One spun in a slow, wide circle as she fell back into her desk, kicking one hand over the other, as casual and open as you please. Her hand swiped up a thin polaroid of the Conduit, sitting in his desk at school, bent over a book with his headphones on. The angle of the picture was taken from below, snapped by a phone under a desk.

"If," she said, spinning the polaroid around so Akita could see its star, "you help me in return."

Akita leaned back. She was no longer angry with the Quiet One - if anything, the promise of revenge had endeared her to the changeling. "…help you?" She asked warily.

"Mm-hm!" She chirped. "See, I need to get this boy. Very powerful, so the Overlord and Mistress need him for some plan or another-" as if she didn't know exactly what the Conduit would be used for, as if she hadn't slaved away for it her entire fucking life, "-I won't bore you with the details. Trouble is, it's all on me. The planning, the execution - so much work! But, if you help me…" she trailed off, leaving the floor open for Akita's questions.

"…why?"

She snickered. "Because, little pup, if you do, I won't just let you kill Vex… I'll Bind him."

Akita's eyes flashed. "Bind?"

"I'll tether his dead soul to an object." she plucked a pen from her desk, twirling it between her fingers. "And give it to you. You'll get to torture him forever, and he'll never die, and he'll never escape."

She could see the hunger in Akita's eyes, the raw thirst for revenge. She was so, so close… maybe just one final push.

Akita's eyes flicked back and forth, clearly torn. "But… he's just a- a person-"

The Quiet One waved her off. "Oh, we won't hurt him! The Conduit has unfettered access to the Veil. Someone so powerful, someone who's only born once a century tops… sweetheart, he'll be worshipped. I'm going to bring him from a lonely little nobody," she released the polaroid, letting it flutter to the floor. She stepped off the desk, crushing the polaroid beneath her shoe. "-to divine."

Akita bit her lip. "…but…"

One more push. Just a tease.

"And, you know," she cut Akita off, tapping her chin, "someone so powerful… with enough experience - that's where you come in - he could even put your brother back together."

Akita's eyes widened, snapping up to her. Those pinprick irises, the sweat and blood coating her, the wild hair in her face - Akita was the picture of desperate.

Desperate, and obsessed.

"Fix him?" She whispered, transfixed. The Quiet One giggled, scooping up her pretty porcelain tea cup. She took a sip, relishing the way Akita didn't so much as blink, completely and utterly focused solely on her.

She sighed as she set the cup back down. "Yep," she popped the p, "Good as new. Just like that." Her two fingers snapped. Akita blinked.

For a long, long moment, the chamber was silent. Akita's face was bathed in hellish purple glow from the windows, making her appear ghostly in her blood-stained white clothes. Blood dribbled from the red claw marks in her cheeks, almost as though they were open wounds in her skin.

The Quiet One's eyes narrowed pleasantly at the sight. They even matched.

"Come on, Akita. One little boy, and Brother Bear comes home."

Then, jerkily, Akita nodded. "Yes," she gasped, "yes, yes, yes."

The Quiet One shrieked with a giggle, unable to contain herself. She was at Akita's side in a second, snatching up her jaw and forcing those red eyes to meet her own. Her nail pressed into Akita's split bottom lip, breaking the thin skin. Blood pooled immediately, seeping into her own paper-white skin.

She leaned in until their noses were practically touching. "Give me your name," she whispered. Akita swallowed.

"I- I did."

"No," she giggled. Her lips grew wide in a wolfish smile, stretching far across her cheeks - too far. "Your True Name. The secret one."

Akita recoiled, but the Quiet One's hand held her in place. "But-"

"A contract," she said, "I have to abide by the contract."

Akita swallowed, but gave no protest. The Quiet One trailed a sharp nail down the contours of the changeling's face. "You'll do as I say," she purred, "with no hesitation. You will follow my orders, and abide by my wishes. You will be mine. And when we have the Conduit, and he has fulfilled my needs, I'll have him fix Brother Bear. Then, you will be released."

Akita breathed slowly through her nose. Her throat bobbed as she stared into the Quiet One's eyes. Then, eyes shining through tear tracks, she nodded. "I agree," she whispered.

Just like that. Her entire life, signed away with two little words.

The Quiet One snapped two fingers, and the slender hands released Akita, retreating back into the stone floors. Akita flexed her arms, and the Quiet One released her jaw. Akita beckoned for her to lean in. Ever-so-quietly, she whispered into her ear, the True Name of a fae flowing from red lips dyed in blood.

The connection was immediate. Just as the last syllable passed her lips, a shining red collar appeared around Akita's neck. It tightened against dark skin, settling firmly. There was no clasp, no strap to remove it.

All mine.

The Quiet One stood up straight, satisfied. What a wonderful opportunity that had stumbled across her path. Yes, this would be so much better. Instead of trying to keep up the charade as Garmadon Junior's best friend, his stalker, his 'enemy' in the dark of night… she would have Akita do it. The changeling would play the part of mysterious villain, would coax the Conduit's powers to the surface.

She pat Akita on the head. "Good dog."

Akita bent her head, teeth glinting. "You promised I could kill him."

The Quiet One giggled, practically prancing across the room to the iron door. "And you will, puppy."

She opened the door with a flourish. Akita's snarl ripped through the air, and on a whim, the Quiet One flicked her hand. Amazingly, Akita fell silent. Incredible. Her orders didn't even need to be audible.

A pale man with greasy sideburns and a handlebar mustache greeted her. He was over a foot taller, but bowed to her all the same. Simpering little coward.

The Quiet One watched him through thin, crescent moon eyes as he straightened back up. "Quiet One," he said reverently, pressing his hand to his chest. He stepped inside the room, and the iron door banged shut behind him. The Quiet One flicked her hand again, and a barely-visible spirit locked it. "You called for me?"

She knew his type. Little men with littler appendages, stewing in their own inflated sense of self-importance. Like she'd said - simpering coward.

She clasped her hand behind her back. "Vex," she said. None of the kindness or amusement she'd spent on Akita colored her voice. She cocked her head like a bird, as though curious. "Riddle me this: which one of us has the eternal, unshaking favor of the Overlord and Mistress?"

Vex blinked. He stammered, averting his gaze. "Q-Quiet One, what-"

"Answer the question."

Vex swallowed. "You, Quiet One."

She cocked her head to the other side. "And which one of us… is in charge, here?"

"Y-you are, Quiet One," Vex responded again. She hummed, rocking on her heels girlishly.

"Exactly. And, which one of us has the power to kill you at any moment, with zero consequences whatsoever?" Her teeth gleamed.

Vex's eyes widened, and he stepped back with a nervous laugh. "Quiet One, if I've somehow misstepped-"

"Answer the fucking question."

Vex froze. "…y-you do, Quiet One."

She grinned sharply, fangs glinting purple light. "Wrong!" She said cheerily. "She does."

She stepped to the side, releasing Akita from her order. Immediately, a gigantic wolf leapt past her, barreling into Vex. The man only had time to scream, futilely blocking his face, before the snarling wolf ripped into him.

The Quiet One cackled, shrieking with mad laughter as the screams of the damned and the wails of a girl wronged filled the chamber. Ghouls and spirits clawed their way from the floor, drawn to the frenzy of blood and gore. Akita shifted, back and forth, digging into Vex. Her claws found their way into his ribcage, tearing at bone and snapping, treating the bloody white bones like blades to stab and mutilate with. Her wolf's teeth clamped around his jugular, ripping and tearing until pained screams became desperate bloody gurgles.

The Quiet One laughed and laughed, draping herself over her large, ornate desk. She hummed a giggly tune to Vex's pain, to Akita's snaps and snarls and cries. Two fingers held the image of Lloyd Garmadon, asleep in his own bed.

"Oh, Conduit," she breathed, enraptured in the image. Hearts practically pulsed in her pink eyes, obsession filling her chest. "This is going to be so fun."

She giggled again, falling back into her chair and kicking her feet up on the desk, crossing them at the ankle. Her cat appeared from some dark corner, winding around her neck. She absently scratched it, closing her eyes and listening to the gore taking place only a few feet away.

Finally, after a long minute of Vex's gurgles and thrashing slowly dying down, they fell silent. A bang shook the desk, and the Quiet One cracked an eye open. Akita held Vex's corpse by the neck, chest heaving. Blood and tissue caked her mouth, splattered across her skin. Her clothes were more red than white, the stain of blood growing. She had Vex's desecrated face pressed down into the desk.

The man's eyes were still open, glassy and dripping blood of their own. His face was torn, skin sloughing off the muscle and bones. Bits of brain splattered his greasy hair. His throat, especially, was ripped practically in two, as though Akita had attempting to behead him. Tissue spilled out from the wound, splattered across her desk. Already, the body stunk of rot.

Akita's teeth were bared, showing off the fresh blood. "Bind him," she demanded, "I'm not done."

The Quiet One lifted her hand, and a pitch black leash extended from the loop of Akita's collar. She wrapped it around her hand and tugged, jerking Akita forward until they were practically touching.

It was a show. A show of what Akita had signed up for - of just who she belonged to. An attack dog, leashed down, to be sent after whoever she wished.

"You'll have your fun," she whispered. Her lips stretched into a wide, wide smile, the corners of her mouth reaching too far up her cheeks. She bared her own large teeth in the imitation of a smile.

Only one of them had a wolf's teeth, and it wasn't the girl with blood caking her mouth.

(Or, well. Blood was in her mouth as well.)

With her other hand, she dipped into Vex's mutilated neck, She cleanly scooped up bloody muscle - a vocal cord - and slipped the bloody mess past her own rips. Blood dribbled down her chin, splattering on the desk beneath her. Akita's eyes widened at the casual cannibalism.

Oh, she could feel herself falling for this dog already.

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you, mutt."

[v1nnys]

Hi, sweetheart 🌸

I would be interested to know Giulia’s opinion about my ocs/how she would interact with them :D

OMG HIII Thanks for the request!!!💗💗

Matteo: At first glance, Giulia is not hostile towards the Greasers, so Matteo's presence almost seemed indifferent to her, but when she found out that he almost set Derby's hair on fire in revenge for Vance, she couldn't help but feel respect for him and even congratulate him for trying, as she herself also gets along well with Vance. Giulia is usually very observant, so when she noticed his musical taste and his drawings, she can't help but approach him to share her admiration for the same things, even praising his drawings. Giulia would definitely tell him that his neurons would burn out from reading so many adult magazines. Giulia has a certain good opinion of Matteo, he would definitely be in her social circle.

Oliver: Well, as we already know, Giulia doesn't really like preppies despite being one herself, but noticing the lack of arrogance and the apparent silence that always accompanies him when he's alone, she feels interest, much more when she sees him spending a lot of time in the library reading, wondering what his favorite literary genre is. She would definitely approach him and talk to him, but the calm and seriousness that accompanies him makes her doubt. Is this how others feel about her? She thinks they might have a couple of things in common.

Mary: First impression was like O MAY GOD HER HAIR?!?!?!!!! She's still a preppie, so Giulia watches her behaviors to know if it's safe to approach her—it's not that she's scared of her, she just doesn't want to stress herself out trying to socialize. Giulia goes to the school plays because of Cornelius, but Giulia claps and whistles loudly every time the plays are finished, just for Mary and a couple of friends. Giulia shares a lot in common with her, from her love of cats to how she tries to get close to preppies, Giulia would definitely approach her to talk to her and praise her roles in the plays. She would be in Giulia social circle

Margaret: If we're being honest, Giulia wouldn't get too close, she thinks she's very pretty, obviously, but she wouldn't go up to talk to her if it weren't for gossip, or about fashions. Giulia tries to be nice and friendly with most of the preppies, but according to her, Margaret doesn't cooperate. Despite not approaching her, Giulia would be very supportive of her dream of being a model, approaching Margaret to talk about modeling castings in certain places.

Juliet: Giulia definitely loves her, Giulia wouldn't hesitate to approach her one random day and tell her how pretty she looks and how good her clothes look on her. Giulia really likes that she always tries to find the good in even the least nice people. Giulia would recommend romantic novels to Juliet, even lending her a translated copy of "Como agua para chocolate" by Laura Esquivel. If Juliet has that relationship with Ricky, Giulia would not hesitate to advise her. Juliet would be on Giulia social circle

Kate & Fred: These twins are Giulia's Bi panic. When Giulia is forced to attend gym class, she wouldn't hesitate to come up and talk, Giulia would literally play along with Kate when she's flirting with her, Giulia thinks Kate is very funny and Giulia would attend gym classes just to chat with her about anything while they are doing the sport. Regarding Fred, Giulia also has a very positive opinion of him, supporting him to be responsible with his studies even though sports come first to him, she wouldn't approach him, serious and cold men make her nervous, and if he can't be silent, then Giulia couldn't be good company because she wouldn't talk because of nerves.

Giulia would definitely get along well with Kate, she would always tell her things like "your brother is really hot" and I guess Giulia earns a slap.

I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!!! :33

[serendertothesquad]

Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "Club 37" Episode Followup, Part 1

In the same way that Frasier Crane apparently loves clubbin', the people working on Odd Squad also love clubbin'. I mean seriously, first we get a nightclub that is seemingly all-ages but has only adults in line and not kids, and now we get this.

...Well, okay. Club 37 is not a nightclub. It's a VIP lounge in a nightclub. Different thing.

Either way, let's see if we can get into the club below the break.

Ohhh...another Omar joint. "Lift Off" was fairly good, but I'm not sure if I'm too confident about this one.

Godspeed.

Huh, I guess in Britain they design Jon Arbuckle very differently. I wonder if he's still a cartoonist, though?

See, in "Picture Day" they at least had Otto puke in his mouth.

Do that. That's the good stuff. A gag, even.

Okay...so either these gloves are a British thing, or I need to go to cooking stores more often, because I've never seen this kind of an oven glove.

Yeah...'s what happens when you adopt a lasagna-loving cat, sir.

Well, if the artist was going for "future dummy design", I think they nailed it.

"They have everything in there, even a talking rabbit!"

And I hear they're a Precure fairy mascot, which makes it more special!

See, you know it's not meant to resemble a nightclub because there's no bouncer at the door. All we get is a Security-built keypad of sorts.

Oh, the crackpot in me so wants to pin this as a reference to the pilot, because putting their badges on boxes like what Orli's doing here was used as a teleportation device in lieu of tubes. Only now, it's what agents do to get entry to a room.

I mean...it's the 10th anniversary. No one in either demographic is going to get it. It's perfect!

(Unless these were somehow seen before, and I missed it...)

halfway through the season

only 33 cases solved thus far

yes, i'm pretty sure that includes cold opens

And if it does, y'all can do the math on that.

Club 37 was Opie's idea? What, did she go to a nightclub and point and go "hell yeah, that but for Odd Squad!"

Well...at least now we know why we have the low low entry barrier of 37. And every other club she founded with entry numbers lower than 100. (You know Todd would get into all of them within the span of a day.)

...

Okay, I'm replaying this scene again and I will once again bring up if sleeping is Omar's schtick the way Tim's schtick is time travel and if the man needs to go see a doctor. There's me enjoying reading and writing about sleeping characters because it offers insight into their personalities and behaviors, and then there's me shoving it into everything I ever write ever. Which I do not do, no matter how tired I am.

Please seek help, Omar.

You know how there are people who will stand outside of a door, waiting for someone to open it on the other side, and then they rush right in?

I wonder what would happen if one of them tried it right now. Would a big Smash-Bros-like hand appear and throw them out?

"I've never had my caricature done."

Well if you were in a carto- *bonk*

NOW HOW IN THE MCFUCK DID THEY GET A MAN UP HERE TO DRAW CARICATURES IN A GODDAMN WATERFALL. HOW. H O W . YOU GONNA EXPLAIN THAT SHIT OMAR OR NOT. C'MON BRUH.

*sly smile*

Amanda the Adventurer but it's Orli the Adventurer.

...One-way ticket to hell.

I have no regrets.

"the jackies" had precinct 13579 play serious and unrealistic catchup with orville's precinct

these guys have only four cases

And both episodes are 11 minutes, mind you. Orli has Flash powers. This should be a nonissue.

WWWWWWHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEET???????

A MONTAGE SONG????

WE'RE GETTING A MONTAGE SONG FOR THIS SHIT?!?!?!

AND...AND IT'S A BANGER?!?!?!?!?!?!

Omar...man...the sleeping problem still persists. But bless you, man. Bless you.

The song's incomplete.

But bless you.

ohwowtheepisodeissolvedin4minutesbutwegot7minutesremainingwhatdooooooooooooooooooooo- *explodes*

...Okay, I was going to say something about the lack of excitement in here, but then I realized there are other clubs with cooler stuff.

Hold up...Agent Odette?

But didn't we get an Ode- ahhhh yes. In Season 3.

Yeah, this recycling surprises me none, and no, this is not the same agent, before you ask.

"Phillip's the friendlest unicorn you'll ever meet."

*long deep sigh*

Y'know, given Hasbro's...ah...dire financial straits at the moment for MLP amid news over G5 ending and Tell Your Tale's cancellation, I feel they could really benefit from some advertising in Odd Squad.

Instead we get yet another missed opportunity when I've been angling for another MLP reference in this show for 8 years with Tim's tweets to Lauren Faust and Meghan McCarthy on strings. Is it really that fucking hard when other kids shows have made references and gotten away with it scot-free?

"I love unicorns!"

Huh. Never pinned Ozzie as a brony, in all honesty.

I also never pinned Orli as dropping the words "coat hick." What the fuck is a "coat hick"?

...

That's not what she's saying, is it.

"Unicorns are proud, majestic, lemon-scented!"

If they're scented like lemons, no wonder some agents eat them.

That being said, I both love and hate that this random-ass Odd Squad UK episode just gave me another fic idea when there are ten million FiMFic contests I want to enter and a ton of fics I still need to write. I don't do this shit so people can pay me money, Omar. I do this shit as a hobby. If I wanna start up a Patreon or a Ko-fi one of these days, I'll call you.

Isn't there an Amanda the Adventurer 2 coming out?

Because if so...this speaks for itself.

IN THE CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM, SCOOTER-POLICE-BASED OFFENSES ARE CONSIDERED ESPECIALLY HEINOUS. IN BRI- oh fuck no...no, I can't finish that. I'm laughing too hard.

Simple solution: make the barrier for entry "X or more". So for example, Orli and Ozzie could get into Club 34 because they have solved 34 or more cases. Not exactly 34. 34 or more.

This is about as stupid as express checkout cashiers harping on you for including only three items above the limit. And they're small things. Like...I dunno...Reese's cups or something.

"Why don't you just unsolve some cases?"

Wh...okay, and this is about as stupid as people doing community service for theft and then going right back and stealing the same item again. Doesn't make sense, right? Neither does this shit.

The entire purpose of Odd Squad is to get rid of oddness and keep up normalcy. Victims' lives should not be put on the line and they should not have their odd problems and illnesses re-applied just so Ozzie can go see a non-MLP unicorn that some innocent agent will probably eat down the line. It's borderline stupid, and frankly, it's really out of character for these two.

Especially for Ozzie, since he's a guy who loves to help people.

Behold: an episode that is pushing me more and more towards just dropping everything and walking out.

And I haven't done that since "Odd Together Now". But this is cutting it close.

Seriously, why do we need an IT agent whose entire point is to undo agents' hard work and cause harm to victims? Are they lashing out after telling someone they need to turn it off and on again too many times? Are they angry at all the misplaced code there is?

It...oy. It makes no fucking sense. At least "Lift Off" actually made sense in terms of plot. This one...it's terrible.

(On to Part 2!)

[dxrknessembr8ced]

Being a pet owner change me guys like yeah I was into biology and speculative biology and animals before I own a pet but after my sister adopt mimi my fascination with life and animals on the planet become more frequent and also more explosive as I study animal behaviors including my cat and have adapt those behavior patterns on some of the characters in the stuff I write on. Guess you can call me John hammond.

[moontheoretist]

Glitches or not, this makes NPC feel real

People started talking recently that Gale's romance is glitchy. That a lot of non-male players didn't even notice because it felt real to us to be hit on a guy involuntarily and being asked to choose between him and others when we didn't even date him. To me, however, this glitch either never happened or I bypassed him. My male MC was very nice to Gale. They're both Wizards, they have their own world of magic to talk to about. But he never came onto him, at all. We had more or less flirty conversations sometimes, yes, but he never made me choose between him and Astarion. I guess I was just playing in a way that gave him the impression that my MC was interested a little bit, but not committed to that interest very much. He just helplessly pins.

Like, for example, I played Mystra's scene as a romantic one. I picked the line with a kiss and he liked it. But then the choices I made later, even though I never explicitly rejected him, affected his behavior.

I didn't feed him artifacts as if he was a starving man. Each time I waited till he asks for artifact first and gave it to him then. And only 1 per every ask he makes. So technically I only gave him 2 artifacts, because he only asked me twice, and the second time he asked, it already didn't work. He said it didn't sate the weave, asked for a time to think, and then next time we talked he told me to not give him more because it stopped working. He was listed during Grove Party scene as possible romance, and during the party I had more or less only suggestive dialogues, but I guess asking him if he likes belly rubs was less romantic than the other two options (I'm autistic, I assumed it was not romantic at all, he just told me his cat hates belly rubs, and I was like "well, if you were in her place would you like them?"). I was surprised that he misconstrued such a line as a flirting line, but he also said that it's a conversation for another time, and that was it. Then I went to Astarion and picked him when my MC went to sleep, they had their romantic night. Since then, Gale and my MC are in this state of going around each other in circles, because my MC devoted himself to Astarion pretty early on thanks to doing some stuff that skyrocketed Astarion's approval instantly (I was so shocked when he suddenly decided to breach the relationship topic, because I were so sure he hated my MC for being goody-two-shoes, but well, killing monster hunter gives you a huge boost), so now it kind of looks like Gale has feelings for my MC, but isn't brave enough to speak about it.

So from my perspective, his behavior is completely normal. And yet I hear that he hits on people when explicitly rejected, so there must be a glitch somewhere in the romance. It just never happened to me.

Also, as a person very well versed in game studies I feel like Gale acting like that is very interesting from a game design perspective, because it gives him agency and makes him feel real. Yes, it also makes people annoyed at him and reminds them of men in real life a little too much. I can understand that. In real life his behavior would creep me out, but because it's a game and because I apparently must have played my cards right, he just feels like a very responsive NPC and I feel like it's nice to see NPC behave as real people rather than waiting for player's input to do anything romantic at all.

Funnily though, Lae'zel hit on my MC on her own and I rejected her, because I play my MC as a gay man. She was not pleased but took it in stride. I didn't get the feeling she resents him. Then during Grove Party she made a reference to her confession by saying "What a pity I won't be able to taste you" and I was like... I laughed because it looked like she holds a grudge against him now xD

My approval with Shadowheart is the highest of all companions, and yet she never came at me, because my MC respected her boundaries and never asked her to reveal the secrets she had. He only asked when the situation forced him, but let Shadowheart get away with being cagey and not reveal anything, and that apparently made her feel safe around him to the point her approval is now on exceptional, and she still doesn't hit on him because I still didn't pick any options that would trigger drinking the wine at night cutscene. So she is my bestie now. We are two besties with dark secrets now, wohoo.

Karlach hit on my MC early, and I needed to turn her down, because damn, gay man right (I love her tho, I'm romancing her on another playthrough for sure). It's funny that my MC whom I play as gay man was hit on by exactly 3 people and none of them was Gale. He never explicitly hit on my MC. I just got dialogue options that were flirty, which indicated that there is an interest there from Gale. But maybe because I played early access and tried to romance him in then (I still remember people talking how hard it is to trigger his romance in EA. Funny that now it's too easy) I know which dialogues are considered more or less romantic and somehow avoided giving him false hope.

Edit:

Hilarious I just opened the game to check my approval ratings with all the companions and... Gale's approval isn't there xD Neither in the regular form nor in the numerical form in the detailed view.

I wonder if that's why my Gale behaved so normally xD

Update: It turned out his "normal behavior" was a bug too.

[queenofzan]

one thing that really grinds my gears about the koko and other apes “being taught” “asl” thing is that

it was actually such a poorly-designed experiment that it taught us literally fuck-all about anything, and yet it was hyped so hard and then failed so bad (because it was an extremely poorly-designed experiment) that people are like “oh there’s no point in exploring this further”

methodological problems i, a fucking theatre major, hobbyist linguist, and pet owner can immediately name:

1. the people “teaching” a language to the apes were not native signers. they were not even fluent. HOW CAN YOU TEACH A LANGUAGE YOU DON’T KNOW TO ANYONE OR ANYTHING.

2. in humans, there seems to be a cutoff age/development stage for learning language fluently. this is hard to know for sure because it is hella unethical to design experiments for, and arguably unethical to study anyone who has been deprived of language due to, that only happening in circumstances of extreme abuse. now, it does seem like researchers were aware of this possibility, and tried to start teaching apes sign at a young age, but they didn’t try to teach older apes in order to have a comparison. how useful is this data, then? even if they had been fluent sign speakers, they literally had no control and therefore no way to know if there was a meaningful difference between language acquisition in other apes by age. given what we know about human language acquisition, whether or not there is a difference at all in the capabilities of apes based on age of exposure to sign language would be very useful information about the efficacy of these experiments.

3. few if any of these animals were in an environment that resembled typical ones for their species. stressed animals do not learn or behave the way unstressed animals do. in fact, we know that humans are markedly worse at learning things and acquiring new skills in stressful environments. we have to be very heavily conditioned to even function in high-stress environments like space or battlefields. what, exactly, do you expect a chimp living in a human home without other chimps to teach you about chimpanzee capabilities?

4. focusing on apes to the exclusion of other animals that might actually be better candidates simply because they are close to us evolutionarily, rather than behaviorally or socially. i know everyone was crazy about apes in the 70s and 80s, but other social animals that demonstrate clear communication not only among their close group but across disparate groups (eg, elephants or cetaceans) would also be good candidates for study. yeah, adapting or creating a language to use with elephants would be harder than adapting or creating one to communicate with something with hands, but you can’t pretend elephants don’t have the fine motor control to rival humans’. (i will give the 70s and 80s scientists a pass on trying to talk to cetaceans because there are additional barriers there)

idk man, studying animal communication and possible cross-species communication is so obviously useful that it’s really weird to me people gave up because the first few attempts were so fucking bad. like, okay, it is unlikely that the average person on the street is ever going to be able to communicate a complex idea to a non-human animal they are not already familiar with. i guess that makes it less exciting to some people?

but i’m way less concerned about attempting to study language acquisition and language acquisition cutoffs in animals who are not going to be deprived of something necessary for their neurological function! and considering our shared evolutionary history, combined with the much greater capacity for neurological scanning we have now, literally any data about whether or not there is a cutoff date for successfully acquiring a language (to the extent that animal is capable of) would be extremely valuable!

also, having non-domesticated species to compare to our experiments with pet animals like cats and dogs would be very useful! we know that domestication does affect brain activity, and being able to make more accurate guesses about whether or not that includes linguistic development would be great! again: having control data to compare other experiments to is useful in and of itself, even if it turns out other apes can’t learn language in a way comparable to humans!

i just. augh.

even setting aside the ableism that obviously underpins the decision not to have d/Deaf people involved in teaching sign languages to non-human animals (which we shouldn’t, as that is the most crucial element of the experiment) these “experiments” were so poorly designed as to not count as science, and the questionable results obtained from these shoddy experiments are now used as an excuse to deny funding and redirect research into a really interesting and potentially useful field!!!

[savebatswingaus]

Scratchcraft Oneshot - Saltyy wing fic

Summary:

Foxy deals with leaving the season 2 world for the next. ...oh and Saltyy is there too I guess.   (Doesn't make a whole lot of sense if you don't know this fandom or at least watch Scratchcraft.)

Notes:

Just a short little oneshot I wrote as a goodbye to season two. (And because my 39 pages of over the summer social studies work is much more difficult than I expected it to be.)

Fic below the cut or in the link in the title. :)

Foxy sighed and laid down their head. They felt tired, and had no way to fight it. (Besides sleeping of course, but who honestly wants to do that?) They felt their tail flick against the familiar orange blankets on their bed, they tried to ignore it at first, but it soon grew into some sort of pattern. Some familiar beat that they wished they knew the words too. It was a nice background for lyrics (that, they reminded themselves, didn’t exist) but it wasn’t a nice background noise for sleeping. 

They sat up, fox-like ears twitching as they physically held their tail down. It just didn’t want to stay still! Which was fine most of the time, but when they were trying to relax and fall asleep, they would have expected their brain to have stopped the movements of all their body parts. 

They sat that way for a while, blankets ruffled around their (slightly shaking) body as they held their tail. It’s fur was fluffed up, and they could feel the hair on their head and ears also puffing up with it. Foxy hissed slightly and pushed their hands further into the fluffy appendage, they felt their claws extend out of their fingers but only cared when pricking pain formed in their tail.

Instantly, their ears snapped back and they jerked their hands away, yowling at a volume that most definitely disturbed the villagers left in the area. As it was, a blush was already forming on their face from the fact that they had just accidentally stabbed their own tail, they didn’t need other people to be worried about them. 

Foxy groaned and sat up, ears slightly less flattened now, but still definitely turned back. Their tail was still fluffed up, and the sight of a few hairs caught under their nails was enough to make them chuckle softly. 

Swinging their legs over the side of their bed, they stared thoughtfully at the orange and black hairs. The sight of them stuck under the nails reminded them of how lucky they were to have retractable claws. Sure, there was no real reason they were so happy to have the strange nails, but wasn’t it good enough that they found them cool? The way that when not retracted, they looked close enough to a regular human’s nails (if not a bit sharp) but when out, their true power became known.

They stood fully and stretched, their arms above their head as far as they could go, and felt their tail bristle out fully before relaxing back behind them. The feeling of the fur sinking back into place was familiar and welcome, especially with the (now dull) pain locked beneath it. 

Foxy yawned as they let their arms flop down by their sides, their formerly gritted teeth happy to be apart from each other once more. Well, at least now that they felt awake, they didn’t have to struggle to fall asleep anymore, right? ...they hoped that was the case.

Sighing, they made their way to the door, tail brushing gently against the floor as their two pet foxes wound around their legs. Normally such behavior would only be expected of cats, they mused, opening the door, but I guess being ‘sort of’ a fox helps them feel more comfortable.  

They stepped outside the house into the night and took a long sniff of the air. It smelled crisp and fresh, with the exception of the smoke rising from the nearby campfires. But, as they made their way to sit next to one, they supposed that it fit the scene. A village in a spruce forest, surrounded by darkness and monsters, but able to keep all that away because of the crackling flames that comforted it. (That and the torches placed haphazardly around. Campfires only did so much.)

Foxy shook out their shoulders and wrapped their tail around their knees as they watched the fire. First it blew right, the left, and then right again… but it somehow never left the ring of wood placed lovingly around it. They blinked, their eyes beginning to burn with the heat caused by being near a fire. But even with that discomfort, it beat laying, unsleeping, in a bed that would seem to let them sleep. Briefly, they wondered how long they would get to stay here. Them and their group of friends did leave for new land the next day.

They leaned back and groaned. If they were leaving tomorrow morning, they should definitely be getting a good night's rest, but with how uncomfortable they had been in their bed, they supposed it was going to be a less than perfect start of the journey. 

Foxy turned their gaze up to the heavens, eyes still shining slightly with the tears caused by staring directly into a fire. Up above, past the whispering branches of trees and friendly billowing smoke, they saw them. The stars. They were so beautiful, shining with the brightness of a thousand far away suns. If only it were safe to take the flames away from the ground below, letting monsters run rampant in the village, that way, they could see the stars in their true glory. 

They reached a hand up, claws reflecting orange light from the nearby campfire as they twitched towards the stars. Of course, if it were dark in the village, they could see just fine, but the few villagers that still lived here would not be a fan of it. (Especially since none of them were very good at fighting close range, Foxy included. They would pick a firework over a sword any day.)

They felt themself begin to slip off the log below them, eyes growing heavy and tiredness finally began to take hold of them. Just a quick little nap below the stars wouldn’t hurt anything… right? They knew this was not strictly true, monsters might not be able to sneak up quite as well in the light, but it didn’t mean they would stay away from a sleeping fox hybrid. 

Did they really care though? It wasn’t as if this world had some sort of stitching in it, letting lives be just one. They yawned tiredly and laid down in the grass next to the log. That was the second thing they were glad to have here. The lack of ticks. Sure, some bugs still walked the ground, but ticks didn’t exist here. And, as they closed their eyes, they hoped that whatever the next land they came to was, it gave that same courtesy. 

- -  -     -               -                            -

They blinked, eyes opening peacefully to the blue sky above. It appeared that monsters had not gotten them in the night. Maybe sleeping so close to a fire, and basically under a log, had something to do with it. Foxy turned their gaze to the campfire, not at all surprised to see it still burning merrily along. It was quite like it really. Ever since Storm had become a god, which was, admittedly, not that long ago, campfires had refused to go out even underwater. (They had always kept up in the rain before, maybe the ocean was the next logical step?) At first, they had wondered why that was the first thing he had done with his newfound powers, but had quickly concluded that maybe fire was just a thing that would look cool underwater.

They sat up, head narrowly missing the log that they had slept next to. (As it was, one of their ears brushed it.) Noticing two foxes curled up under a nearby tree, they paused. These were their pets, and they might never be seeing them again. It was only fair to disappear and mysteriously as they had appeared. Sure it hadn’t really been that mysterious, but they still guessed that departing in silence was a kind thing. 

Struggling to their feet, Foxy stood. They glanced up to the sky, which white clouds drifted lazy across. With a spark of sadness they realised that this was a nice day, it’s a shame that we’ll all have to leave soon. They thought to themself, holding their tail manually as they stepped away from the fire, there was no need to look like a fool as they left their sleeping place. 

“Hey Foxy!” 

Foxy jumped and whirled around, not exactly happy to hear the sounds of their pets waking up, or happy to see the person who caused that. (It wasn’t that they weren’t happy to see him, it’s just that this friend being all the way out here meant that it was going to be time to leave soon.)

“Hi Saltyy,” they sighed, their voice sounding slightly high-pitched compared to the other’s. It was kind of like a fox’s voice, slightly yippy, but all the more expressive because of that. 

“Did you see my landing?” Saltyy boasted, his chest puffed out with pride. Ever since his wings had been strong enough to lift off, he had not shut up about his flying. It was fair, Foxy supposed, nodding and picking up a torch absentmindedly. When Foxy had first figured out that other people didn’t have retractable nails, they had been quite excited to show their friends. (Even though they had all seen it before.)

“Was it a good landing?” Asked Saltyy, now looking slightly worried at he folded his wings behind him. 

At this question, Foxy nodded and smiled, choosing to speak only after the pleasant motions were taken care of, “It was a very good landing! I’m just a bit busy saying goodbye to my foxes,” 

“Oh,” They would almost hear the slight deflating of their friend. He hadn’t thought of that. (Which was fine, because Foxy hadn’t really been planning on doing so until that moment.)

They leaned down to the foxes curling around their legs, picking up one and rubbing their nose to it’s. The pet wagged its tail slightly and Foxy felt their own shift from side to side slightly. They hugged the pet to their chest and whispered something into its ear, a goodbye that they didn’t want anyone to hear because of how soppy it was, and set it down. After waiting for Saltyy to stop giggling to himself, likely because they had wagged their tail, they repeated the process for the other fox. 

They wiped away a tear, and, tail sagging to the ground, gestured for the foxes to go. The two animals stared up at them, looking slightly confused, but they spoke. “Come on, be free now,” they whispered, a sad smile forcing its way across their face, “It’s what you were meant to be,” 

The foxes looked at each other, and then back at Foxy. The animals made eye contact with them for a moment, before yipping joyfully and bounding off into the woods. Foxy smiled as they watched them, orange eyes blurring as tears threatened to fall. 

But, before they could, a noisy, but altogether very nice, voice piped up behind them. “That was really sweet of you,” it said. Foxy turned to see Saltyy standing just a bit closer to them than he had been before. It would have been sort of weird if it wasn’t for the very genuine tone in his former statement.

“Thank you,” they smiled, tail going into a bit more of a natural position as they felt themself relax, “It was the right thing to do,” 

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed! >^-^< Leave a comment and/or kudos if you feel like it. (I like to beg for validation. /hj)

[clockworkcrow]

yeah so you were more surprised because you most likely had not spent a lot of time looking at depictions of transitional fossils in countless media forms and stories focused on transitional fossils, nor had you spent many hours thinking about what life would be like if they existed and what you would do if you saw one. “transitional fossils exist!” was not a familiar new reality for you, at least nowhere near the way fairy media has culturally made “what if fairies were real?” highly accessible in the human mind.

you have probably thought before about what it would be like to have a cat show up somewhere unexpectedly! either because you’ve seen it happen to other people or because you know enough about cat behavior to expect they might show up somewhere out of nowhere. so this is a more familiar new reality to you.

i’m going to guess, actually, that your parents sheltered you from a lot of media with fairies in it, as mine tried (but failed) to do. so potentially to you the fairy would be much more surprising because of not having had a lot of exposure to the belief “what if fairies are real?” but most people (in america at least) not raised by fundies have seen media or stories exploring that idea constantly since they were tiny children, so they have thought about this potential reality before. scientists even more frequently, because it’s a common early experience curious folks will have with searching for evidence and determining reality. hence it’s more familiar to them.

you experience surprise the same as anyone else, you just aren’t correct about why you’re surprised—which most people aren’t, that’s why we have cognitive psychology. the reason people are more surprised by the walrus is because most people already have a cognitive schema for what “fairies are real” would mean even though they know fairies aren’t real. far fewer people have any kind of cognitive schema for how walruses behave.

also, people can be entirely wrong about how surprised they would be or why they’re surprised the way they are. when i say “you’re wrong about how surprise works” i mean we have studied this extensively and know on a neural level how it functions. surprise is not related to evidence/lack of evidence, it’s related to violation of expectations—but this decreases with familiarity. if we’ve thought about having this expectation violated before, it’s less surprising than an expectation violation we’ve never thought about before. it’s unrelated to the objective likelihood of the violation.

most people don’t describe their personal experience of surprise this way because we rarely describe our neural processes accurately. again, that’s why we study cognitive psychology.

dropped the walrus vs fairy question on a group of psychologists today and not only did the majority agree the walrus would be more surprising, the one with the strongest background in research responded to the ‘but fairies aren’t real’ argument with “are your beliefs so inflexible that you’ve never considered you might be wrong about what’s real and what’s not?” and honestly i haven’t recovered

[windona]

Another prompt for Human Health exam studying: Jaime Reyes and Traci 13, rabies!

There was not supposed to be any danger out in the desert that night.

Jaime had picked a spot for the date that was out of the way of any criminal activity. It was supposed to be relatively isolated, calm place that was perfect for a lunch hike and picnic.

Lying back on the picnic blanket in the shade, Jaime and Traci began talking, laughing, and relaxing as they looked at the beauty of the desert.

"Hey, look! There's a bat out," Traci said before pausing. The little thing was on the ground near her, screeching and flapping its wings.

Jaime frowned. "They shouldn't be out during the day or on the ground. Careful, it might be sick."

Traci nodded and slowly tried to back away. As she put her hand down to prepare to stand up, the bat lunged and bit her before backing away.

"Ugh, I'll wash it and bandage it," Traci said, looking at her arm.

<Jaime Reyes, the bat's behavior is consistent with behavior described as 'rabid'. Suggestion: Analyze the disease.>

Without a word, Jaime led the scarab coat his arm and summon a scanner. He directed it at Traci and at the bat.

<The bat's brain is highly inflamed. There are high amounts of lyssavirus in its saliva. This includes the saliva on the Traci 13's bat bite.>

Jaime's blood ran cold. "Traci, we need to get you to the doctor, now. The bat is rabid."

Traci's eyes widened. She did not resist as Jaime got into full costume and picked her up, flying her full speed as he called the hospital and animal control to let them know what was going on.

After he spoke with them, he turned his attention back to his girlfriend. "Am I going to die?" Traci asked in a small voice.

"Are you experiencing fever or tingling?"

Traci shook her head.

"Symptoms apparently can take a few days to a few years to appear, though usually within one to three months. As long as we get you vaccinated before you experience symptoms, you should be fine."

"And if I experience symptoms?"

"Let's not worry about that," Jaime said. Left unspoken was the fact that once symptoms appeared, the result was overwhelmingly death. The thoughts of Traci vomiting, moving jerkily as she was excited and afraid of water and unable to control her movements before progressing to confusion, unconsciousness, and death flashed through his mind.

Jaime gritted his teeth. It would not happen.

The second he got to the hospital, he entrusted Traci to the care of a doctor who whisked her away for the first part of her vaccine. The animal control person then gestured in full gear that they were ready to follow Jaime to the site.

Keeping in radio contact as he led the van, Jaime tried to keep his focus tight.

<The Traci 13 is getting proper medical care. She will live.>

Jaime nodded.

He followed, watching as the animal control team captured the rabid bat and inspected the area. He answered their questions about if he saw any other animals around- no- and what happened. He also noted that some of them made notes about investigating local bat colonies and making sure that everyone had their dogs and cats vaccinated.

"You did good," one of the people said. "We have pretty aggressive prevention and control programs, like Canada, but unlike the UK we haven't been successful in eliminating it completely. It's actually classified as a neglected tropical disease now."

"Wait, really?" Jaime frowned. "Why?"

"Latin America reduced rabies by 90% due to dog vaccination programs, but more than 95% of deaths are in Asia and Africa and usually due to dogs. If 70% of dogs were vaccinated it would reduce cases a great deal, but so far that hasn't happened. It's why you need to be vaccinated against rabies for a lot of African and Asian countries, though Ukraine and Cuba are also on that list." He frowned. "Doesn't the Justice League make sure everyone is vaccinated?"

Jaime shuffled. "My scarab functions as a secondary immune system, but I guess I never really thought about it."

Another of the animal control people looked over and glared. "If the Justice League doesn't follow vaccine recommendations and it causes an outbreak-"

"Lay off." The first animal control person looked over. "You should make sure you're up to date if you go international. A lot of nasty diseases are now considered neglected tropical disease. Mostly because the wealthy countries decided not to care once they got it under control, but-"

"Jose. Less soapboxing."

"It's important! I know most people get rabies from bats in the Americas, but dogs are the biggest cause globally, and 60,000 a year still die from it-"

"Jose, I know." The second animal control person looked over. "We have the bat and everything we need. Thank you, Blue Beetle. And if you ever see rabies in any wildlife again, don't hesitate to call."

"You're welcome. And, uh, thank you for dealing with this so quickly."

The second animal control person flashed a victory sign, and they flew off.

Later that night, Jaime flew over to Traci. She showed the place the vaccine had been injected, and mentioned her appointment for the second shot. Scanning, Jaime saw there was less lyssavirus in her, and it wasn't traveling up her nerves as fast as before.

"I will personally fly you to that appointment," Jaime said.

"My hero," Traci said with a grin as she tugged on his shirt. "Uh, can I kiss you?"

"You're not going to infect me," Jaime said as they sealed it with a kiss.

[celticbarb]

BOOK: Where the Thistle Grows

AUTHOR: Mia Pride

SERIES: Pict by Time, #1

LENGTH: 276 Pages

PUBLISHER: Dragonblade

OVERALL RATING: 5/5

It is a time-travel about where archeologist Caitriona Murray likes the real deal, not just historic tales or fact guessing. So she joins a team to travel to Scotland and discover some classified unknown confidence of this specific cave which is absolutely brilliant!

Furthermore, Caitriona is not sure if this deja vu or something supernatural but she keeps having the dream over and over again about a Pict King’s death. She feels the dream means he is buried under the cave or close by. Soon she realizes you must be careful with what you wish for!

She is soon shocked when she soon faces the man she has been having so many recurring dreams about, Cat soon realizes she has traveled back in an ancient time she has only studied about. She is now in 685 AD and realizes she is falling for a man that may very well die. Furthermore this Pict King thinks she is his bride! Cait wonders if she will ever be able to return to her own time.

King Brodyn Mac Cuill wants to keep his tribe protected and away from danger even if he agrees to marry someone from an enemy tribe. It is the only way to secure an alliance but he sees the new bride’s hesitation. If he only knew the bizarre images going through her head. Fearing she will never return to her own time and also not wanting to fall for this handsome King where only death is waiting for him. What shall she do?

Furthermore the King does not understand his new Bride and her unusual behavior but also finds her oddities so adorable too! Except when he discovers this woman thinks she is from another time so now he wonders if she is just insane or is this some kind of ambush his enemies are setting up for him and his tribe? Can he even believe this woman even if she already has claimed his heart!

This is such a magnificent read definitely a book reader do not want to miss. Mia Pride is extremely talented. I find myself absolutely spellbound by her exhilarating reads! A book paranormal and historical readers will absolutely love! It is one of those rare books you can’t help but love! A book I highly recommend!

Disclaimer: I received an advance readers copy from Dragonblade publishers. I voluntarily agreed to do a fair review and blog through netgalley. All thoughts, ideas and words are my own.

[sincelastsession]

Made the mistake of speaking to my mom today. She hung up on me while I was trying to deescalate the convo via talking quieter so she'd stop yelling and saying insane shit in a weird voice...I was on a loop already angry about my Dad and Sister. My shitty toxic as hell behavior doesn't always happen but it did today and I wrote a ton of mean as fuck texts. I feel ashamed about it. Once I start it's hard to stop. I tear into my family. No one benefits from this. When I'm writing it all out I do not feel bad though. I am just raging pissed. I am angry for so many reasons.

I miss my ex a bit today. I miss my best friend too and I cried a bunch about it. I cried about my grandmothers and I cried about my cat.

I am so mad at my Dad and Sister and Mom. I don't understand why they let so much shit happen to me and hurt me and continue to do so. I cannot help them with their unresolved behavioral issues and I am tired of trying. I am TIRED. I am so tired I wish I could have an induced coma to let my mind and body rest. I wish I could give them what they wanted so they could see even with that they will be unhappy. They are unhappy insecure people who need serious help I cannot provide. They will end up killing me one day if I continue to deal with their shit. If my Dad had pulled my neck a bit harder when he grabbed my hair he could have paralyzed me. "I should have called the cops" is the chorus that sings in my head every single time I think about it. There was nothing that happened that day or that week or that year or any year or time or universe etc...that justified that shit. It's wild because I always kinds knew it would happen. I knew my sister would eventually lose her shit at me. I did not think it would be over me throwing a candle. Sometimes I wish I was closer to her in age. I think an ass beating would humble her. I'm fucking sick of my parents coddling her bad behavior. She has stolen a lot from me. She is a compulsive liar and highly manipulative. She's also a naïve idiot poser undoubtedly super fucking insecure and she's so fucking good at tricking people with this false persona she puts on. It makes me sad that her friends believe it till they sniff out her bullshit and get the fuck away from her. She treats me like i'm exhausting and annoying and has flat out told me i can't show up at venues to the same shows she goes to. She talks about me behind my back to her friends like i'm retarded. She knows I see her crap. She will probably bring up how I do not respect her boundaries. She doesn't really understand what a boundary is or how to make it. I am not without fault because I have a hard time remembering the thousands of on the fly boundaries. She will start fights and escalate them on purpose to bait me.

My father is a strange man and no one has ever really figured him out. He is like a dry drunk. I cannot do anything right for him. He has never been pleased with me unless I've done something he wanted perfectly. He has not really ever told me he is proud of me and if he has I really do not remember. He calls me an imposition. He is resentful and angry that I exist. He is sick in the head in a way that should be studied. I am scared that he will kill himself one day but my mom says he never will. Both my parents have threatened to kill themselves and kill or hurt each other or told each other to die in front of me. I have been told to die. I have been called everything I have been told I am worthless and I mean the list goes on get creative in your head. He is the reason my nose is crooked. Maybe it is not him. Maybe it is a mental illness that has swallowed him whole. I do not know. I am tired of his abuse. It was there all my life and i guess i romanticized having a father that wasn't ever cruel to me. He did have good moments. I really do think he is in early onset dementia. He pays for my living but he uses it against me. People do not understand how he has controlled me this long. I feel like I must have a type of Stockholm syndrome almost sometimes. I wish I hadn't been sick ever like my sister. I would have left home and probably been a lot happier and successful instead of whatever the fuck she is doing.

My whole family lies. They lie to me. Everyone lies...but they lie a lot. I was read the boy who cried wolf so much because people thought I was a liar when I was a small child and tried to tell them things or that I hurt. They created a fucked up game where they would tell me I had a white stripe on my tongue if they thought I was lying. I would sob because they would insist I was lying when I wasn't. I do not know why they thought this was a good idea to do to a child. I remember my mom laughing and my dad too.

I'm glad I can't have kids of my own.

I wish my parents had never adopted my sister. I was 15. I needed them. They wanted a baby. I wasn't a baby anymore. I had so much autonomy that they hated. I told the social worker lies so they could adopt the baby. The baby is 22 and I fucking hate her even though i'd absolutely protect her if I could. I've tried. I've tried to warn her. She doesn't listen. I did so much for her. She doesn't care about me though.

My mom has this THING this alcoholic (descriptor, i don't like to shame addicts despite how much i hate this man) sick idiot cobbler..yes a fucking cobbler...living with her. He is awful. She has chosen his abuse and bullshit and lies and more bullshit over me an my sister's sanity. I fucking hate him. I resent her for it. She gets mad when I get mad about it. I do not go see her because he is awful to be around. She lies to me about him and has since she met him since before my dad and mom got divorced. I understand why my dad hates her but i do not want to be part of it. Esteban the ASSHOLE the THING that lives there is fucking terrible. So much so that when I found out he put a cigarette out on my sister's arm years later and that he had beat my mother after I had warned her he had a record for woman beating etc...I put him in a sour jar and he went insane and tried to kill himself with the same shaped objects I put in the jar. Sometimes I wish EMS had hit 5mins of traffic. He has a scar on his neck now that he tells ppl he got in war he was never in. He hates me and thinks I am a witch. No one knew I did the sour jar. His mother was a practitioner so I guess he can tell. That's good though. He stays away from me now and doesn't speak to me. I do not have a name for what I do. I do not care if people think that's crazy. We live in Louisiana and we do what we know. I would piss on his grave. I have no care for people that would abuse women or children.

Idk what's up with Justin. He was weird last time I saw him and very quiet. I was stoned when he came over after work. He just seemed depressed and mad but kept telling me he was just tired when I asked him if he was upset or if I did anything wrong. I fucking hate that I fawned over a man. He has completely ignored me all of today. I know he is ignoring me because he usually replies or calls in-between driving for lyft or uber. Maybe I do not know...maybe that's a cognitive distortion or some shit.

It doesn't really matter how late I go to bed. I like the silence of night and while I am still hypervigilant I feel like I can breathe better most of the time. I feel more productive. If I could swim or go walking at night I would. I hate men for making that scary.

Matt is supposed to call me tomorrow around noon because I asked him. I do not know what to talk about. He only seems to call otw to work. I want to let him lead but I always talk and I feel like I have wasted the short time we chat. Sometimes i'm sad after calls because I wish we could talk until we ran out of topics. He doesn't really have much time. Maybe that is not true. I am happy to hear from him either way.

That's all I guess for now. It's a lot. I guess I will update again tomorrow.

[lunarscaled]

“ you are a dragon , are you not ? “ the word sounds so harsh in his mouth . rolled , and deepened in tone . almost as a curse . the idea conjures illustrations old & worn by age , at least , to him . saints atop steeds , templar-wrought mythos , illuminated manuscripts . “ a rarity , indeed . “

-> He speaks the title with a weight that feels like he is condemning them to a funeral they haven't planned yet, a certainty sunken into their bones like a dirge. The Jagermeister is adorned in fitted white which frees him of his violent sin, but between them, the rabbit, and he, the hunter, who could ever be more guilty of spilt blood? The dynamic of the first and the last, they who have not yet grown into their skin and scales, who could not defend themselves, were quarry for what angry purpose? ( Christian sarcasm, found in Cain: "Am I my brother's keeper?" asked his brother's murderer. ) Do they only see him with their wide, hare eyes? Their pulse racing under their ribs, a field of blood like a church and steeple; when the gun goes off their whole body would go limp in an instant. They may never even recognize they were dead, since they were already here. They wondered if from their beheaded corpse red hibiscus would bloom---if from their ribs their mother's favorite lilies, bone white, would sprout in this endless desert. In the glory and vanity of their death they would not be able to condemn him only to his pattern of behavior: they know better. There were multitudes in him like facets of a polished gem, tenderness for the one he loved. Gentleness for another.

"Yeah. I guess so. Though this is more like a curse than a true dragon. Soul Society killed the last of them years ago---or perhaps your kind did. I can't say."

-> How much harm can be done to themselves by themselves? His gaze is obscured by thick red glasses, but they are certain he is inspecting them like stock, and it makes the ridges of their spine feel more prominent under their skin---like they are already less human than beast. How many people had put hands on them for their own curiosity, asked them questions like Alice to the White Rabbit or the Cheshire Cat while they fell further and further down this rabbit hole; they were a rarity. An oddity. They wanted to dissect them, they wanted to study them, they wanted to raise them up. They wanted to consume them when they had become strong, they wanted to mount their horned head on mahogany like a trophy. Clamoring mouths for their attention and yet they are so small, so fragile compared to all other beings here, so they must be protected. They must be coddled. The last of their kind but only here. An adult but still a child---how did everyone see them? How did he see them? Did he want to hunt them, were they worthy of that yet? Had they, the only one of their kind, been bestowed the thorned crown that was the prized game? Was that also a form of care? Their thoughts stop and start again. There is a stirring in their chest that burns when they think about having to protect themselves and failing; that anticipation of pain before its happened. They think he'd crush their wrist under the heel of his boot. Is that any different from how their father loved them?

"But I'm an endangered species around here, you know. You'd have better luck in London finding something your size---besides, someone else has already tried to put their name on my head."