#bluegoblinzz

[bluegoblinzz]

Hero of the Beasts

All art on this thread is by Rex Equinox but writing is my own

Akfed was sure he was destined to be a hero; he thought that there was no way his father was the King of Nightmares, the guardian of monsters… But when he visited the temple of the giants’, praying for an answer, he felt his presence. A shadow was cast overhead in this place of light. Tingles crept up his spine, and discomfort gripped the back of his neck, fear as darkness was infused in the air he breathed. Yet, somehow the fear itself was comfortable. 

“This isn’t right,” the half-giant muttered. The more this dark presence imposed itself upon him, the clearer the truth became, but it wasn’t right. He learned to be a guiding light, a comforting hand to guide people away from the darkness. It wasn’t right that he was related to it. 

The nightmare king tried to speak to his son. Akfed didn’t know how he knew this, but he could sense his father reaching out, but he couldn’t hear him, and he didn’t want to. He refused to listen. But this is when Akfed’s body began to betray his heart and mind, acting on its own, becoming what it was meant to be, soaking shadowy ichor into his cells.

Only a monster could understand the Nightmare King. His ears, insistent that they listen to the dark, each stretched so the sides curled inward and the tip became pointed, like an animal’s ear. Both his ears burned as the skin became smooth and purple. The monster ears  perked up, trying to catch the message from his father.

You sound upset, my son.

[bluegoblinzz]

A Gorilla Never Will Steal His Secret

"Um ackshually... humans didn't evolve from gorillas so this trigger doesn't make sense-" shush! Okay, so this is a gorilla TF story that I did for fun! It's been a while since I wrote a TF story... kinda had a lot going on, plus a long bout of writer's block. As always: thank you so much for reading!! ... I feel like something's missing from this story but I also think that this is just a sign that I need to log off for now, and take a step away from the story... I'm tired. XD ************

Staring at his own reflection in his phone, Ulysses straightened his bowtie, secured his tophat in place, and pat down his suit with his white gloves, brushing off any dust that settled on it. Once he was done straightening up, he stared at the door, then gave two firm knocks. There was no response for a moment, so he glanced around the hallway as he waited. The apartment complex was dimly lit, the floors were dirty, and the doors were close together… it was strange for such a successful magician to be living in a crummy apartment. 

A young man with curly hair answered the door, he was just dressed in jeans and a red polo shirt. 

“Hey! Ulysses, right?” 

“Ouroboros, I presume?” Ulysses asked, putting his hand out to shake. The young man shook the magician’s hand, a look of confusing washing over him. 

“You can just call me Olly,” the young man said. “I uh… I didn’t you’d show up in character!” Ulysses’s eyes narrowed. 

“Well, I thought you would take this important business matter seriously!” he replied, his voice growing cold. 

“Not to worry,” Olly said. With the snap of Olly’s fingers, his jeans darkened, the denim softening, his polo tucked into his shirt, more buttons growing into place to change into a full red button down shirt, two sleeves of a suit rose up his arms and a suit jacket engulfed his torso, as if an invisible servant put the jacket on for him.

“It’s not too difficult to get dressed up!” Olly said. Ulysses rolled his eyes. 

Why does this boy feel the need to show off, even when we’re alone?! he thought. 

“May I come in?” Ulysses asked. 

“Please!” Olly said, stepping out of the way and gesturing for the older magician to walk through. Ulysses walked through, kicked off his shoes, and set them down by the door. The apartment was a single room, with an alcove for a kitchen, where many pots pans, and plates filled the sink. Off to the left there was a cheap futon with many blankets, pillows, and a raccoon squishmallow sitting upon it, and across from the couch was a small TV. In the center of the room sat a circular table, with a bowl of fruit sitting in the center, and on either side sat a cup of tea upon a saucer, a deck of playing cards next to one cup of tea. Ulysses took off his suit jacket, and set it down on one of the chairs by the table, and sat by the cup without the playing cards. Olly sat across from him. Ulysses stayed seated with his hands folded while Olly picked up the playing cards, shuffled them absentmindedly, and smiled at the top hatted magician. 

“So, why did you ask to meet with me?” Olly asked in a cheerful voice. 

“Ouroboros,” he started. “I commend you on your performative prowess. I have been a magician for almost thirty years, and you, a young man, have made a name for yourself six months after you began. You’re a true prodigy.” 

“Thank you!” Olly said, beaming. “That means a lot coming from you.” 

“That being said,” Ulysses muttered, “I’ve noticed the audience you’ve garnered… has largely come from my former fans. I am all for competition, but this is more than competition… it’s theft. My career is on the line.”

Olly’s smile faded, and he furrowed his brow. 

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” Olly said. “You know… I didn’t take your audience on purpose, and I didn’t want to take your audience… I’m sure they’ll come running back in time! You have a charm that I don’t.” 

“I cannot risk my career by simply waiting around,” Ulysses stated, ignoring the compliment. He shifted, and rummaged through his pocket, before placing a wad of cash on the table. Olly stopped shuffling, and his eyes got wide, before he looked up at Ulysses with confusion.

“I want you to teach me your big trick, your main act. I thought if I knew what you know, we could, perhaps, be rivals once again.” 

The young magician sat back in his chair, shuffling his cards again and smiling sheepishly. 

“Oh Ulysses,” he said. “I’m sure you know that a magician never reveals his secret.” 

“No, I’m afraid I do not,” the old magician huffed. “That’s merely something you say to children so they don’t know our secrets.”

“Or something you say to rivals so they don’t take your act.” 

Ulysses slid the wad of cash across the table, closer to the young magician. 

“That’s why I’m making you an offer,” he stated. “I understand why you may be apprehensive. We work in an industry of lies and trickery. You are worried that — if your secret gets out — you’ll be called a hack, a charlatan. I assure you: everyone knows that your ‘magic’ is merely slight of hand, and lighting effects. Our art form is not about convincing fools that you have powers. It is about using your intuition to create an illusion that captures the minds and hearts of even the most cynical people, to show them the impossible. So even if I know your secret, I know that a young talented artist like yourself can come up with a new trick, an even better routine.” 

Olly’s welcoming cheerful demeanor dissolved as his eyes darkened, his gaze burrowing through Ulysses with a deadly scowl. 

“Did you just say that I’m fake?” he grumbled. His voice had a sharp edge to it, but he giggled between his words a bit, as if this accusation was amusing to him. 

“Well, of course,” Ulysses whispered. “Magic isn’t r-“ 

“My magic is real!” Olly shouted. “Very real!” The young magician bolted upward, jumping out of his chair so fast that he knocked it over.  He slowly made his way around the table, prancing toward the older magician with the poise of an angry tiger. 

Ulysses recoiled, pressing his back up against his chair, his eyes widened. 

“Are you mad?” he gasped. 

“Maybe your audience was right to leave you,” he grunted. “Doubting magic itself shows you’re a hack. So maybe I can teach you a thing or two.” Olly reached into the pocket of his jacket grabbing something with a click! Ulysses saw it in his hand, the instrument of Olly’s main act: a golden pocket watch. 

“N-no,” Ulysses whispered. “Absolutely not!” He went to stand up, but Olly pressed a hand onto Ulysses’s shoulder, forcing him to sit back down. With the flick of Olly’s wrist, the pocket watch shot out from his hand, the cover popping open, the watch dangling in front of Ulysses’s face with wide swings. 

“Relax,” Olly cooed, his voice taking on a slightly mocking intonation. “You said yourself that this is fake, so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about, right?” 

“Yes, but-“

“Then just follow the watch with your eyes. You’re smart, right? You can find the secret of my act. You can stay awake, and show that I’m full of baloney, show the world that maybe all of those people were just actors.” 

Ulysses didn’t need to be told to follow the watch, for his gaze fell upon the watch absentmindedly. It was purely instinctive to look at an object dangling in front of his eyes. He knew he could look away, and that he should look away, but he did want to prove Olly wrong. He was smart, and he wouldn’t fall for any nonsense such as ‘hypnosis,’ especially a method that was so cliche and antiquated. So, he furrowed his brow, examining the watch, making sure he stayed fully focused on it, that he didn’t lose track of it with each swing, that he stayed completely awake and alert for the entire time he watched. 

“It’s not going to work,” Ulysses stated. “Hypnosis, in actuality, is a matter of psychological suggestion. I’m not going to go into trance just by looking at some shiny object.” 

“Watch it go right… and left… and right… and left.” 

Right and left and right and left, Ulysses thought. What’s he doing? Is he going to make me forget my rights and lefts? I won’t let him. The old magician strained his mind, focusing on the directions it swung, counting how many times it swung, doing whatever it took to keep himself alert. After a moment,  he blinked, and stared straight ahead, focusing his gaze on the cup of tea in front of him, managing to look away from the watch. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Oh, you have failed, my friend,” Ulysses cooed. “I watched your silly watch for long enough, and didn’t fall asleep. Now I’m not even looking at it.” 

Olly caught the watch in his hand and closed it. 

“Then why are you still sitting here?“

“Well, I-”

“You can get up and leave if you want, but that’s not what you want, is it?” Olly wasn’t even swinging the watch, but Ulysses had become so focused on the way the watch swung, it left an impression in his mind’s eye, now able to feel the rhythm of each swing like the consistent beating of a drum in his mind. It was a soothing, consistent pulse that he couldn’t let go of.

“You’re here because you want to keep looking at the watch. So much so that you’re imagining a watch right now… one swinging right, and left… and right… and left…“ 

Each time Olly said a direction, the old magician’s eyes followed. The more Ulysses tried to tell himself not to think about the watch, the more his subconscious latched onto that rhythm in his mind, the more his eyes began to move left and right on their own. With each swing of the invisible watch, he grew more and more focused, more and more absorbed in the task of counting each swing. 

Olly released the watch again, the cover popping open, and stopped counting each swing. Ulysses’s eyes were now fixed on the watch, at first unable to look away, and then unwilling to look away. As he watched it swing, he felt as if he himself was rocking back and forth,  as if he had grabbed ahold of a vine on a tree, and gently swayed in the wind. Each swing made him feel calmer, and looser. His expression softened as the previously loud, intent counting in his mind turned to a gentle focus.

“That’s right,” Olly cooed. “It feels so good to follow the watch. When you watch it swing, you don’t need to worry about anything else. You could just sit here, in this moment, and watch it go left, and right. And each time it goes left, and right, you’re feeling a little more relaxed, a little more calm… And the more you feel calm, the fewer thoughts go through your mind, the more easy it is to focus on the watch.”

His head bobbed back and forth with the watch, his beginning to lull open, his eyelids growing heavy. When listening to Olly’s words, he found that each swing did in fact make him feel calmer and calmer, all of his muscles relaxing, his entire body feeling warm. He felt warmer and heavier until every part of his body felt numb. He couldn’t move, and why would he want to? It felt so good to just relax and follow the watch. In this calm state, his thoughts failed to form, each one surfacing as a nonsensical phrase, or a fragment of a sentence, before his focus fell on the watch once again. 

“Good, just keep following the watch, look at it go left and right… But there’s something else you may have missed about the watch… do you see it?” 

Ulysses looked closer at the watch, his eyes focusing on each hand… the hour hand pointed at the three… minute hand was pointed at the eight, and… the second hand…

“The second hand…” Ulysses mumbled, “it’s going… counterclockwise…”

“That’s it… watch the time tick back, and cede each minute to the future… Each ticking second, you don’t remember, because it hasn’t happened… And then each second turns to an hour, and soon you’ll forget hours and hours of your day.” 

Each word Olly said came true. He forgot the hour he took to commute, he forgot eating breakfast, he forgot when he woke up, he forgot the night before. With each second that ticked by he ceded another hour of his life, and it felt so good to let go of, so good to leave room in his mind. 

“And then the seconds turn to days… and the days to weeks…” 

His mind felt lighter, emptier. HIs heart had a brief flutter of fear, as he watched his life play backwards, as he saw his past few shows undo themselves, as his memories of family gatherings faded away. Yet somehow, for some reason… He felt a strange euphoria in letting go. It felt good to know less. 

“O-okay… Olly,” he muttered. “You… win. Please, let me-“ 

“And then to months… then to years… then to centuries, then millennia. Each tick of the needle is a millennia rewinding. You remember who you are, but time is still rewinding.”

His memories came back to him, all at once, however something about himself, something about the time, was still changing.  He could still remember everything, but time was moving backwards, at a more rapid rate than before. What did that mean, though?

“...Olly?” the magician asked. 

Snap! “Sleep.”

Ulysses’s eyes fell closed and his head lulled forward. His consciousness waned to the point where he didn’t remember where he was or what was going on, he just knew he felt so relaxed, so calm, so content, and that he didn’t want to move. 

“Just feeling so relaxed so calm… going deeper and deeper every time I say the word sleep.”

Olly repeated this type of phrase a few times, and each time he said ‘sleep’ Ulysses would fall into a deeper and deeper state of trance, feeling far more calm than he had before, feeling more relaxed than he knew was possible. Each time he heard ‘sleep’ he felt heavier and heavier, as if he was sinking deeper and deeper into a thoughtless, relaxed slumber. He felt as if he was floating in nothingness, no thoughts, no worries, just calm… Then the induction began to change…

“Feeling so good, so relaxed. Just listening to the sound of my voice and sleep. Just keep listening to the sound of my voice, letting me do the work, while you relax and sleep. Going so deep, feeling so calm, knowing you’ll go deeper, and feel better, the more you listen to my voice, the more you listen to my words, and sleep. Feeling better, calmer, happier, the more you listen to my voice, the more you believe…” 

Ulysses’s focus latched onto the words, soaking them in more and more, unable to think of anything else, just wanting to listen. The voice, whomever it belonged to, was so satisfying, such a nice voice… He wanted to keep listening to it forever. 

“… and you want to keep obeying my words, and keep listening to me… Every word I say: you will believe without question, because it is truth. Every part of your reality is at the whims of my words. Now when I snap my fingers, you will be alert and awake once more, yet time will still tick backwards, millennia and millennia at a time… and you will become one with that time.” 

Snap!

Ulysses lifted his head, and opened his eyes, glancing around the room and taking in his surroundings once more. The watch was now sitting in the center of the table, and the young magician sat across from him, beaming. 

“So,” Olly chirped. “How do you feel?”

“Calm… I guess,” Ulysses shrugged. “That was… a little scary.” The man felt warm, but unlike before, it wasn’t a comforting warmth, but instead it felt as thought the room was getting stuffier, hotter, like he could break into a sweat any second. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and fanned himself with it. 

“If you’re hot you can take off your shirt,” Olly said. 

Ulysses nodded, unbuttoned his shirt, and slipped his arms out of each of the sleeves, revealing the white tank-top he wore as an undershirt. He leaned forward, and folded his hands on the table, staring straight at Olly, waiting for his response. Even after taking his shirt off, however, Ulysses still felt a bit warm. The hairs on his back, his arms, his legs, and his nape all grew longer and longer, covering more and more of his skin. His five-o’clock shadow grew thicker and bushier, while the short hair on his scalp grew past his ears, down the sides of his face, and over his neck, nearly reaching shoulder level. 

“So, do we have a deal?” 

“Deal, what deal is that?” Ulysses asked, scratching his head, both out of confusion and from itchiness. 

“That you’ll come work for me, as my assistant.” 

Ulysses scratched under his arm as he continued scratching his head. The itch became even stronger as the hair all over his body grew even thicker, now becoming brown fur. He furrowed his brow, and looked down at the table as he tried to process what Olly had said, tried to remember when he had agreed to that.  Pressure emerged in his forehead, putting a weight on his thoughts. Before his mind felt sluggish, unthinking as sleepiness took hold. Now his mind felt heavy, his thoughts blunt. Abstract concepts simplified. 

“Hmmm… don’t remember… agreeing to that.”

“Well, what do you remember?” Ulysses looked up to the side, stroking his chin. He pushed his bottom lip forward and furrowed his brow as he pondered Olly’s question. What did he remember? He found he had forgotten more than just this supposed agreement, as he had forgotten how the start of their interaction had gone, and now: the past five minutes or so were seeming fuzzier and fuzzier. Something about… going backwards? It felt like it was on the tip of his tongue but the more he tried the reach for it, the harder it was for him to catch within his own mind. 

Soon, he forgot the very question, and he tried to remember what the question was. Then he forgot that thought. There was this presence on the very edge of his mind, a memory or a thought that he was trying to grasp, and that feeling kept getting more intense the more he thought about it, to the point where this ‘unknowing’ state of mind was his default state of mind. He pushed his lip forward the more and more he thought, until his jaw began to stretch farther forward, giving him an underbite. The pressure in his forehead intensified to a pain as his forehead swelled, extending upward and outward, his brow extending above his eyes, while the back of his skull compressed inward. He put both hands over his head, and closed his eyes.

“Mmmm…” he grunted. “Thinking hurt.”

“That’s okay, I can help you remember! First of all… I know you said you’re a fan of my work. And you wanted to aid me in my craft as… you’re too dumb to do magic on your own.” 

“Me… too dumb…” Ulysses repeated. He lifted his head and stared at Olly with his eyes glazed over. His confusion grew tenfold, yet he found ecstasy in unknowing, as the pain took over his brain and the thoughts left his mind. It felt so good to be dumb. 

“And I agreed to hire you because you’re strong. Why don’t you show me how strong you are?” 

Ulysses picked his arms off the table, sat up straighter, and flexed both of his biceps. His back and shoulders shifted with satisfying cracks and pops, not as if the bones themselves were breaking, but like the crack of one’s knuckles. His shoulders popped outward and grew larger while the entire top half of his torso grew wider, his spine extending to grow longer, but also curving so he was more hunched over. Both of his arms grew longer and longer his muscles becoming thicker and thicker, the growth starting with his deltoids, then moving down his biceps and triceps, down his forearms, until finally: his hands grew twice their original size, two hairy gorilla paws bursting through his cloth white gloves. His abs tightened and swelled becoming toned and forming a six-pack, but below them his belly swelled and fattened, becoming more bloated and flabby, hanging over his belt line. 

From his sudden growth, from showing off his strength, he felt a newfound sense of power, a fire within. This ‘fire’ mixed with his unknowing mindset to create something more wild, something hard to contain, deep within himself. He felt restless, energetic, happy, angry, antsy, tense, everything all at once… His eyes glazed over some more, but an angry animalistic spark shown in his eyes. The mix of both confusion and wild anger in his eyes made him look less human. There was only one way he could express himself in that moment, and it was an outlet he desperately needed. 

His massive paws grabbed a hold of his tank top and he gave it one good yank to rip it apart, exposing his torso, revealing that his chest and stomach had hardly any hair on them, despite the rest of his body being furry. From the heat, however, his chest and stomach were covered in sweat. He balled up both hands into fists, placed each fist right below his pecs, and pounded his chest. 

“Ook. Ook. Ook.” He grunted. He stared off into space as he satisfied this primitive urge, just knowing that this action felt right to him, that it felt good. The more he pounded his chest, the more powerful he felt, the emptier his mind became. In that moment he knew he was strong, fit, unstoppable. He felt like he had the energy and the determination to lift an entire car. 

Then he stopped himself, a brief bout of clarity coming about… 

“What… am I doing?” he muttered.

“In return for your service, I’ll pay you with these.” Olly picked up a banana from the bowl of fruit and held it out for Ulysses to take. The gorilla-man’s pupils dilated as he followed the banana with his eyes, excitement and hunger rumbling inside of him. He reached out to take it, but then Olly pulled it away. 

“Hey, don’t take it with those hands! They’re all sweaty from a second ago when you pounded your chest. Use your other hands.”

My… other hands? 

His mind grew hazy again as he looked down at his white socks. He wiggled his toes, bending and flexing them, noticing they were able to stretch more easily the more he wiggled them. He saw his feet contorting underneath his socks, bending into odd shapes as he was able to move each to individually, curl it, an make different motions with each of his feet. A hole tore into each of his socks, and he was able to rip them apart the more he moved his feet, revealing two hairy hand-like appendages. 

He lifted his legs, set both hands on the table, and reached out to grab the banana in his his left foot-hand. Then he pulled it toward himself and unpeeled it with his right foot-hand, before sticking it in his mouth, munching on it with gusto. It was far more tastier than he remembered, and he wanted more! His thoughts waned some more, his mind growing more and more quiet, a thick haze of confusion and stupidity taking over. 

“See, I knew you would like that as payment!” Olly said, “being a gorilla and all.”

Ulysses finally grabbed onto a thought within his mind, forming in his head louder than before: ‘what… me doing?’ He observed his situation with more clarity, anger and irritation bubbling up inside of him. No…  he thought. This… not right! He didn’t know what he was supposed to be, or what he was supposed to do, but he knew that he wasn’t himself. 

“Grrr… no!” he grunted, putting his hands over his head. “Wrong!” 

“Wrong?” Olly frowned. “Well… why don’t you fight me about it?” 

His anger nearing a tipping point, he decided to show his aggression one of the only ways he knew how to. Scowling at the boy, he stood up from his chair, clenched his fists, and pounded his chest. 

“Ook! Ook! Ook! Ooh…” he faltered once he realized what he was doing. He lowered his head in shame and then pouted. 

“Me… not gorilla,” he grumbled. He sifted through his brain, trying to catch something, anything, of his past, so he could remember who he was, so he could combat these urges. But no matter how hard he tried, these other thoughts, instincts, and memories remained just out of reach. 

“Hmm,” Olly said, stroking his chin. “If you’re not a gorilla, why are you scratching yourself?” 

Ulysses’s mind went blank, as he scratched his head with one hand, and scratched under his arm with the other. He crossed his eyes and ooked some more. “If you’re not a gorilla, why are you on all fours?” 

Ulysses’s back hunched forward, bending in such a way that forced him to stand with his fists on the ground. 

“Grrr… stop!” 

“Sure, I’ll stop, I’ll stop, as long as you do one thing.”

“What?” 

“Tell me your name,” Olly said. The magician smirked

Easy! Ulysses thought. Me know name! 

“Me name is-“

“Gorillas find it hard to think.” 

Ulysses’s eyes crossed again, and he scratched his head. Now… even his name felt out of just out of reach. 

“Me… name…” 

“Gorillas can’t form sentences.” 

His jaw fell slack and his eyelids felt heavy again. His mind became emptier than it ever had been, his stupidity reaching its peak, and for the second time, he found ecstasy in his stupidity. Not being able to find his thoughts, not being able to think… it was funny! Nothing made sense to him, making everything amusing. His squirming slippery thoughts that were impossible to pin down tickled at his brain, causing him to smile. 

“Name… Uli… Ool ee… Ooh eeh… Ook ook ook…” He lightly pounded his chest. 

“Oh what a shame,” Olly said in a sing-songy voice. “Looks like you couldn’teven say your name. It makes sense because gorillas can’t speak.”

Upon hearing that sentence, the gorilla man felt tingles all over his face and a tickle on his nose.

“Mmm… uh. Ung…” He closed his eyes and tilted his head upward, feeling as the flesh on his face began to soften like clay and as all ability of speech left his mind and his mouth. His nose retracted, going from a pointy triangular nose to a small bump on his face, but at the same time, his nostrils flared, expanding wider and wider until his nose was just a set of two large fleshy nostrils. He gritted his teeth, all of them growing larger, sharper, and crooked. Finally, his jaw pulled farther forward, and the sides of his face became rounder, and the sides of his mouth widening, pulling toward the sides of his face,  forming the snout of a gorilla.

“OOK! OOK! OOK!” The gorilla stood up, and once more he ooked and pounded his chest with pride, with joy, and with fervor. He felt so good to be big and strong, to have so much energy. This sheer physical power felt even better than his former performative power, felt even better than the way everyone applauded him on stage. Most importantly: there was no doubt in his mind, no stray thoughts or worries to ruin the moment. It was pure, raw emotion.

With a subtle smile on his face, the magician took the gorilla’s top hat.

“I’ll be taking that,” Olly said, putting it on his head.  The gorilla reached a hand to try and grab the hat, opening his mouth in protest, but then faltered. He didn’t know what the boy was holding, and suddenly, he didn’t know why he wanted it. He didn’t know why he would want anything except for bananas. So he drew his hand back, and scratched under his own arm. Olly put his hand under the gorilla’s chin, drawing his gaze up to meet his own. 

“Do you still think that my magic is fake?” Olly asked. The words did not register in the gorilla’s mind at all. Not knowing what to do, he grunted, reached up to touch Olly’s nose. The magician giggled, gently pushing the gorilla’s hand away. 

“Okay, new assistant. Let’s practice some of my tricks, eh?” 

Staring at his own reflection in the green room mirror, Ulysses straightened his tie, secured his tophat in place, and pat down his suit with his large simian hands, brushing off any dust that settled on it. Once he was done straightening up, he took a bite of the banana he held in his right foot, tossed the peel to the side, and bounded up next to Olly, now getting in character as Ouroboros. Ulysses pounded his bare chest, exposed from his open suit jacket, and grinned up at the magician, and who smiled back at him, patting him on the head. 

“Ready for your first show, buddy?” 

[bluegoblinzz]

Born to Behave

CW for hypnosis, identity death, physical touch, and pinning someone to the ground

Commission for... someone who wished to stay anonymous. (I accidentally revealed his name earlier... oops.)This one was a little challenging for me to write... not even because of the story itself, but because I needed to do some character development for Kai, and decide what his lair would look like... and WHEN I decided to make it a nightclub, I realized "I have no clue what those look like, I've never partied in my life!" and then I burnt out from my job, and then thanksgiving happened, and... a ton of delays. either way: this was fun, so I hope you enjoy!

********

The stairs seemed endless as Kevin descended flight after flight, the yellow fluorescent lights dimming with each floor he descended. Once he finally made it to the bottom, he found himself in a darkened tunnel, a distant rhythmic thud echoing throughout the tiled hallway. Kevin straightened his glasses and took out his phone, hitting the record button on his “voice memos” app and whispering into the microphone. 

“This is Detective K on the case,” he whispered, “I’ve tracked down all the missing persons to this building. From the information I’ve gathered: I’ve deduced that their ‘meeting place’ is underground. It seems my theory was right; there’s… music coming from somewhere…” 

Kevin might not have been a real detective, but he always wanted to be one. For him this was the perfect opportunity, as the police refused to take up the case he was looking into. 

‘For the last time they’re not missing,’ the police would always explain. ‘They’re at a concert.’

‘They’re partying,’ they would say. 

‘They’re raving,” they would say. 

‘All of them are just some jobless losers…’ they would always end the conversation there, and that was what he hated hearing the most. But here, he would prove them wrong. 

Sure, the police may have been right that they were partying, but why had they never stopped for weeks? And they might have been right about the concert, but the performing band in question, Fangs, was a small local band. How had their audience grown so much? And why was there no information online about them? Everything he found out was through hearsay, and the people he could get the most information out of were often the most suspicious people. 

Kevin knew he could solve this case, now. He located this endless concert. All he had to do now was gather his evidence. 

He turned on his phone flashlight and pointed in front of him. Just like the staircase, the hallway seemed endless, tapering off into an unknown. Taking in a deep breath, he started down the hallway, his footsteps echoing along with the deep bassy thud, which grew louder the deeper he went. When he got to the end of the hallway, he found and old metal door, colorful lights flickering underneath the crack between the door and the floor.  At first Kevin thought he should just go in, expose whatever this band was doing, and then leave. But he realized it might not be a good idea to just run in, guns blazing. Maybe someone would catch him and destroy his phone. It was best to act cool, and pretend he was there just to hang out.

Kevin cracked open the door, slipped inside, and shut the door behind him. Flashing lights blinded him. Loud music rattled his skull. He wanted to take in his surroundings, to investigate, but the space was too overstimulating to focus on any one thing, or any one person. It was clearly a party, as people were dancing, eating, drinking, and waving glowsticks, but he couldn’t analyze the space or the people.

I need to blend in! Kevin thought to himself, as he realized his jeans and polo shirt looked far too uptight for a party like this. He either needed to find something similar to what everyone else was wearing, or he would need to act more casual and more relaxed. He opted for the latter, as he tried to ground himself by focusing on just one thing about his surroundings, by only trying to analyze that thing and not getting carried away taking in everything at once. It was easy to become aware of the music. The bass droned chords, the singer and guitar sang a slow melody, and the drums were oddly fast paced. Despite the unusual style, Kevin found this music oddly catchy. 

As Kevin wandered the space, looking for anything fishy, his footsteps began to line up with the beat, and he couldn’t help but nod to the rhythm and hum along with the music. His footfalls grew heavier and heavier. At first it was only that his steps became more flat-footed, but then his feet themselves became heavier, his shoes growing tighter. His shoes finally gave way, his toes bursting through the toecaps on each shoe. His feet looked like regular human feet, at first, just swollen, but his toenails began to retract and shrink. Then each toe began to grow thinner and longer. The skin on his feet became sweaty but then began to moisten, becoming slimier, his skin going pale, and then discoloring to grey. The slime formed a membrane between each toe, which thickened and solidified. His nails retracted more, his toes kept growing longer and thinner, and the webbing between each toe grew more and more solid, making his feet go from human to floppy webbed flippers. 

But Kevin didn’t notice any of this, as he was too focused on the music. 

He continued looking for a place where he could find some merch as a disguise, and in the meantime, he kept listening to the music. Fangs was a better band than he expected. The song was so catchy that he couldn't get it out of his head, and he didn’t want to. After taking in the catchy melody, the lyrics began to swirl in his subconscious as well. 

“The music puts me in a bind

my path ahead defined

Look in my eyes and you’ll find

I got nothing on my mind.” 

Kevin repeated these lyrics as he wandered. The more he said them the more they got stuck in his head. Each time he repeated “I got nothing on my mind” he felt his mind go blank, or his thoughts would get fuzzy, or he would forget what he was doing. Enough repetitions made it a permanent dampener on his brain, his thoughts slowing and getting sluggish, unable to connect all of them into a coherent string. 

“Music… bind…” he mumbled, slurring his words. “Path… defined… nothing… on my mind…” 

He stopped in the middle of the room, his jaw falling loose as he tilted his head. His gaze fell upon everyone around him. While his mind was going blank, this level of calm, this lack of chaos, brought him to a more grounded state, temporarily, one where he could focus. Everyone was either wearing baggy hoodies, or shades, both of which concealed their eyes. And while most people did dance, and party, some knelt in front of TVs that displayed the band, and some walked with big strides, arms outstretched in front of them. 

Kevin rapidly shook his head back and forth, pulling himself back to reality… something wasn’t right. He took out his phone and hit the record button. 

“Some of these people are acting weird,” he said. “I can’t… I can’t tell why, though.” He shut his eyes and strained his mind, forcing himself to think of something. He kept losing his train of thought, and he felt as if the answer was just out of reach. The more he tried to grasp the answer, the more it slipped away.  This only made him more stubborn. 

“I… I have to figure it out,” he grunted. He ended the recording and shook his head out of frustration.

Once he made it a few rooms over, he found a hallway, where there were several entrances to a concert hall. When he peeked inside he saw the band playing, and many people watching the concert, dancing and celebrating. There was a wolf singing, a lion on guitar, a bear on bass, and a shark on drums. He would have stayed and investigated for longer, but he noticed something that would help him more: a door labeled “GREENROOM.” 

“Maybe I can find the evidence I need in there,” he muttered, before slipping inside. The music was more muffled inside, and the room was pitch black. Turning on his phone flashlight revealed some mirrors by vanity tables, clothing and costumes hung up on tables, but also a big TV with a console and video game controllers, bottles of soda on top of a fridge, a pool table… the types of things he’d expect in a man-cave, rather than a green room.

A loud CLICK in the room made Kevin flinch as dim lights flashed on inside, a disco lamp spinning overhead, causing circling spots of colored light to glide in circles across the walls and the floor.  He watched the lights for a moment, fascinated by the pattern in which they moved, mesmerized by the variety in the color, smiling as his mind grew fuzzy once again. His eyelids drooped, and his jaw loosened as his muscles filled with warmth and sleepiness weighed over him. His stance wobbled, swaying back and forth as he could no longer stand straight. 

As he swayed, his legs became sweaty and grew slimy, just as his feet had done. All the muscles in his legs twitched and began to tense up, each one thickening and swelling, the denim in his jeans tightening around his legs before tearing at the seems, shreds and patches of fabric falling to the floor, leaving him in his briefs. 

He shook his head, reminding himself he had to focus. His webbed feet slapping against the floor with each step, he wandered over to one of the vanity tables and went inside the desk. The inside of the drawer was messy, but he found a composition book, with messy handwriting inside, each glyph being a thick graphite line, as if its writer was trying to break the pencil as he wrote. 

It turned out this book was a journal, presumably the lead singer’s journal and the evidence was scathing. One would only need to skim a line of each entry to get an idea of what was going on. 

“Dave turned out to be kind of an asshole, so we hired a new guy to play the drums. His name’s Kai.” 

“The new guy turns out to be really good at drums. He’s chill, cool, and charismatic. I look forward to practicing with him more.” 

“Kai is… kinda hot. I can’t stop looking into his eyes.” 

“Kai is so smart. I am so dumb. I must do whatever he says. He knows best.” 

“Obey Kai. OBEY KAI.”

This journal entry would give Kevin exactly what he needed to know, and would have been enough for him to show to the police… 

… but it was no help to him, because when he looked at the pages, he found he could no longer read.

He scratched his head, examining the glyphs, doing everything he could to decipher them, looking at one at a time, looking at the page as a whole, reading in all directions… but no matter what he did, it all just looked like meaningless squiggles. Realizing this book wasn’t getting him anywhere, he shut it, put it away, and stood up from the desk, but he hesitated as he failed to recall why he was there in the first place, his goal becoming a thought that was just out of reach, and the more he tried to grasp at it the farther away this thought floated. His head lulled to the side as his mind completely emptied out. 

Kevin heard a click and a slam as a door opened and closed behind him, but it sounded muffled and distant to him, his mind separate from his body. He didn’t hear that the band had fallen silent, nor that the cheers from the crowd had lowered to a murmur. However, he was able to clearly hear the voice behind him. 

“There you are~” a deep voice said from behind him. The floor creaked as the man took slow steps toward Kevin, until he was standing right behind him. The voice spoke directly into Kevin’s ear. 

“You’re not supposed to be in here right now, you know.” “Wh-whuh?” Kevin muttered. The voice sent chills down his spine, and it made his skin tingle. Kevin didn’t know why but he wanted to keep listening to that voice.

“You’re supposed be standing guard, making sure no one comes in.” 

“I.. am…?” Kevin asked. Between the voice in his ears, the song stuck in his head, and his thoughtless trance, he had no clue what he had been doing. What the voice was saying seemed entirely plausible. 

The walked around Kevin, standing right in front of him. He lifted Kevin’s chin with a webbed hand to direct Kevin’s gaze up at his face. It was a shark with teal skin and red hair… He looked very familiar to Kevin but Kevin couldn’t tell how. 

“Hmm… you must be lost, don’t worry, I can help you with that…” His pupils and irises began to glow, his pupils going cyan while his irises went purple, the ring of purple expanding to the edges of his eyes while a new purple ring formed in the middle, creating a rippling effect… 

Kevin’s eyes widened. He watched the spirals in the shark’s eyes, soaking in all the colors, absorbing them, studying them, getting to know them on a deep innate level. The colors engulfed his mind, expanding to become his entire world. Watching the spirals was all that mattered to him and all he ever knew. His head began to bob up and down, dropping each time a wave of sleepiness hit him, and rising each time curiosity and eagerness lifted his chin. Unbeknownst to him, Kevin’s eyes began to follow a similar but inverted pattern, purple and cyan ether spiraling within his irises and pupils, rippling inward. 

“There,” the shark cooed. “Feeling better?” 

Kevin’s head bobbing slowed and dissipated as it transitioned into a purposeful nod, then from his drowsiness they began again. His head began to bob in a circle as the he followed the swirling spiraling patterns with his gaze.

“Good, but you still seem lost… You’re in my green room, do you know why you’re here?” 

He searched for the question, lucidity returning only so he could answer the question, so he could satisfy this shark’s request. 

“I’m… I’m hear to search-“ 

The shark snapped his fingers next to Kevin’s ear. All of his thoughts went blank, and he forgot what he was saying. 

“Try again,” he said, leaning closer to Kevin, forcing him to stare even deeper into the spirals. The colors swirled around Kevin’s consciousness before, giving him a vast pattern to explore, but this pattern began to swirl within his mind as well, causing his thoughts to spin and reshape themselves. It felt as if someone spun his brain on a pottery wheel and began to reshape it. 

“I’m… I’m here…” Kevin began, “to guard you…to obey Kai.” This statement didn’t seem to come from any outside source, and it felt like it came straight from his own mind, as if it were his own idea.

“Yeah,” Kai said, smirking. “You’re a newbie and we were gonna get you into your security uniform, but it doesn’t fit. Why don’t you fix that?” 

“Yes sir,” Kevin mumbled. He took a deep breath in, feeling a deep satisfaction as his chest expanded, not just from his breath, but as his abs tensed up and began to expand, just as the muscles in his legs had done moments ago. He grit his teeth as he dug his nails into his shirt as they grew sharper and thicker, becoming white gleaming claws, tearing off the fabric to reveal his bare skin, going from sweaty and off-white to slimy and grey on his sides and back, his belly becoming a paler and white. 

He pressed his hands against his abs and his pecs, his muscles conforming to the pressure and reshaping themselves, becoming more toned, more defined. He inhaled through his teeth as this satisfying sensation brought chills down his spine and throughout his body. He squeezed at his left arm with his right hand, massaging his muscles into their desired shape then did the same thing on his right arm. He watched his hands as they too became grey and slimy, his palms becoming white. His ring fingers and pinkies both went numb as they pressed together and fused with one another. A membrane began to form between his remaining fingers at first being a thin flap of skin close to his hand, but then filling the gaps between each of his fingers, more and more, until his hands were completely webbed. 

The small bit of rationality left within him asked “what am I doing?” 

But Kevin ignored this part of his mind, as he couldn’t stop focusing on the transformation he was experiencing, how satisfying it felt, the tingles all over his body, the pressure release as he massaged his muscles, the blood rush as he grew stronger and stronger, the warm fuzzy and dizzying feeling in his rapidly hollowing brain. A new urge overcame him, and he balled up both of his webbed hands into fists, and raised them in the air,  tensing up his arms as he flexed both his biceps. He stuck out his tongue and went cross-eyed, as satisfaction, euphoria, and ecstasy took over, as more of his knowledge, wisdom, and memories drained from his mind, and as he felt even stronger.

“Attaboy!” Kai chuckled, patting Kevin on the back. A spot on Kevin’s back began tingling when Kai pat it, the tingling turning into a throbbing and squeezing sensation as a bump emerged on his back, growing bigger and bigger until a prominent shark fin formed. Eyes still spiraling, Kevin grinned at his boss, his face contorting into an expression uncharacteristic to who he was: flashing his teeth, scrunching his nose, and furrowing his brow in a slight snarl. “Anyway, you were telling me about yourself earlier,” Kai stated. “Why don’t you continue? Like… what’s your favorite food?” 

“Hmm… I really like sal-“

SNAP! 

The shark snapped his fingers next to Kevin’s ear again, making him flinch. Once more it felt as if something reached into his brain and molded his thoughts and memories by hand. 

“Try again.”

“I like… I like fried fish… Fish and chips… tempura…” 

“Pretty cool! Any hobbies?” “I… like to read, and do puzzles-“ 

SNAP! 

“Try again.” 

“I like… I like to swim. And I like to lift.” 

Kevin’s voice grew more monotone, mumbly, and grumbly with each statement. 

“What’s your favorite part about yourself?” Kai asked. 

“I like… my cleverness and wit-“ 

SNAP! 

“I like… My muscles~” Kevin chuckled, flexing one of his biceps. “I’m so strong and-“ 

SNAP! 

“I…” Kevin mumbled, tilting his head. He felt a tingling in his lower back and a tugging sensation, gaining feeling in something that wasn’t there before. When he looked behind him, he saw a shark tail had burst through his pants, growing longer and longer. He smiled and reached behind him, sliding his hand across the smooth skin of his tail, his smile widening with satisfaction at the sensation. He let go of his tail and began wagging it back and forth, enjoying the satisfying swish. 

“My tail,” Kevin stated. “My tail’s my favorite part of me.” 

“Awesome,” Kai replied. “Now, one last thing…” 

Kai grabbed Kevin’s face, which conformed to his grip, shifting like clay whenever Kai squeezed it. Kai squeezed Kevin’s cheeks, and his jaw became more angular and square. Kai pressed on Kevin’s nose, and it retracted back a little bit, fusing with his jaw to form a snout. Kai pulled on his snout, and it stretched forward, farther and farther, his teeth growing sharper, a second row growing behind the first. He rubbed Kevin’s eyebrows and ruffled his hair, making all of it fall out in clumps, leaving behind smooth skin. He pressed on the top of Kevin’s skull, which made his cranium shrink and become less rounded. He rubbed the sides of Kevin’s neck which caused the skin to become smoother, and two sets of indentations formed on either side of his neck, deepening into slits, becoming gills.  

None of the transformations as painful to Kevin, and every touch felt anywhere between comforting and satisfying. The smoothing of his skin felt as if Kai was wiping dirt off his face. The stretching of his snout felt like he was releasing pressure in his jaw. Seeing his nose in his peripherals grow into a big prominent snout also brought him this sense of pride and euphoria, loving the way he looked. Once the transformation was complete, Kai held the new shark’s face in his hands, directing his gaze into his eyes once more. 

“I never caught your name,” Kai whispered. 

Kevin’s name was clear within his mind. It felt innate, part of his core, lodged deep within his soul. 

“I’m Kevin-“

SNAP! 

“I’m… Kevin…” 

SNAP! 

Kevin’s eyelids drooped his eyes glazing over. His name put up a fight, not wanting to leave  his mind, but Kai had already reached inside his brain, and began squishing his name like play dough. 

“I’m Kuhh…Vi-“

SNAP! 

“Hhhh… Vin-”

SNAP!

The new shark’s eyelids fell shut, watching as the remainder of his mind and memory washed away. None of it would sound familiar to him at that point.

“I’m… Vuhhn…” 

SNAP!

“Van…” 

SNAP!

“I’m Van.” 

Van opened his eyes, revealing they were no longer spiraling, but instead were now pure black. He stood dazed for a moment, but then grinned and flexed one of his biceps, his tail wagging. 

“That’s right, I’m Van,” he said. “They call me Van ‘cuz I’m big.” 

“Great to meet ya, bro,” Kai said, patting Van on the shoulder.

“Who do ya want me to punch, boss?” Van asked, flexing his other bicep.

“No one yet,” Kai responded. 

“Boss is always right,” Van stated, dropping his arms to his side. “Born to behave.”

“I’m gonna get you a new uniform, you ripped the old one  because it was too small for you.” 

“That’s right! They call me Van ‘cuz I’m big!” 

Van found his thoughts looping, only knowing a small set of desires and actions he could take. 

“While I go look for your uniform, why don’t you do your daily exercise.” 

“Yes boss! Born to behave!” Van repeated. He dropped to the floor, and immediately began doing pushups. Kai smirked and turned away, his tail swishing behind him, glancing over his shoulder with satisfaction. Pride welled up inside him at the thought that he created another new person, shaped another new mind to how he wanted it to be. Sure, ‘Van’s’  mind still needed to be sculpted some more, as he repeated himself like a robot or an NPC, but this could be fixed overtime.

When he was in the corner of the room, Kai typed a number into his phone, and put it up to his ear, whispering into it once he heard a voice on the other end. 

“Flub,” he said, “My pal, my right hand man… I got a new friend for you to meet.” 

Kai rode that same high and same pride as he finished his concert, the hundreds of spiraled eyed fans all cheering for him and his band. The guitarist, bassist, and he all stood next to the singer and took a bow. Then Kai raised his hand, reaching into the psychic bonds he had with his bandmates. One by one, each of their spiraling eyes went wide, and they each dropped to their knees and knelt before Kai. Kai smirked, and twirling his drumstick, he jumped off the stage and started up the aisle, toward the back doors. 

Kai pranced around the aisle, waving to his adoring fans. Making sure no one harassed him or got close to him, his bouncer followed behind. He was a tall buff shark in jeans, boots, a T shirt that said “Security,” an ear piece, and shades followed behind him. Van’s arms were folded and he wore a scowl. The earpiece was connected to other security guard’s walkie-talkies, but by default the earpiece played Fangs’ music in order to keep the guards in a trance. 

Every time someone stepped in front of Kai, Van would snarl and growl at them, to which they would back off. Every time someone jumped in the aisle behind Kai, Van would swing his tail, striking them and pushing them back into their seat. The truth was: Kai didn’t need any help, getting around his lair, but he wanted his new servant to feel useful, to fulfill his purpose. Plus, having such a buff powerful figure following behind him, being loyal to him and protecting him… it was an immense sign of his power, both magical and social. 

Kai and Van left the concert hall, walked through the halls of Kai’s lair, and then eventually stepped out into the dimly lit city. Yellow street lights lit up the alleyway around them, and there were no sounds outside, except for the distant sound of cars on the road. Kai turned to Van and beamed up at him. 

“Alright, bud, this part’s important.” 

Van tilted his head, listening, but not quite understanding what he meant. 

“We’re wandering out into the city to have some fun, to celebrate a little! But my fans aren’t here. So you’ll have to protect me.” 

“Boss is always right,” Van stated. 

A bright light interrupted the two. Van gritted his teeth and blocked his eyes with one of his big webbed hands. 

“This is the police!” A high pitched voice called down the alleyway. “You’re not supposed to be hear at this hour! Both of you, state your name and business.” 

Once his vision came back into focus, Van saw a young scrawny police officer in full uniform, holding up a flashlight toward the two sharks. Van scowled at the officer and stepped in front of Kai, who smirked and put his hands behind his back, putting on a falsely friendly smile.

“I need to ask you to leave,” Van grunted, folding his arms. 

“Wh-what?” The officer stammered. He began shaking. To Kai it seemed like this officer was young and inexperienced, and he was maybe on one of his first shifts… an easy target. 

“The boss doesn’t wanna see you,” Van grumbled, taking another step forward. “Scram.” 

“Y-you don’t tell me what to do!” The officer said, trying to put on a brave face. “Now if you don’t comply, I’ll have to arrest you!” 

Kai couldn’t resist the urge to grin, excitement bubbling up inside him. He knew he could cause chaos in two words. He let this excitement linger, let silence bring more tension, before he uttered them. 

“Get ‘em.” 

Van charged at the officer, tackled him, and pinned him to the ground. The officer yelped. His eyes darting around, he squirmed and tried reaching for his walkie talkie. When that failed, he tried shouting for help, but Van covered the officer’s mouth,  his gigantic webbed nearly covering the officer’s whole face. The officer squirmed a little more, but eventually settled, and once he did, Van removed his hand from his face, revealing that this officer’s expression had become frozen with pure horror. The guard removed his ear piece, and leaned in closer to the officer, whispering to him. 

“Boss is always right… you were born to behave.” 

Van jammed the earpiece into the officer’s ear, and watched as lucidity left his eyes. 

[bluegoblinzz]

Hop to the Top

CONTENT WARNINGS: Hypnosis, overbearing/controlling behavior. I don't condone controlling a partner's eating habits, or their behaviors. This story is for entertainment purposes.

Phew! Oh boy! this is... by far the LONGEST TF story I've ever written. this was meant to be a short and sweet little tale of an athlete becoming a bunny, but it turned into something much bigger. as of writing this: I just finished the story (both writing and editing) like five minutes ago. I'd say I'm very proud and very excited about this one, but also, I haven't distanced myself enough from the story yet to say my true feelings about it. It's gonna be another few weeks before I write another story because I got a conlang competition to enter. All of that being said: I REALLY hope you enjoy!

***********

“Dean, are you good?” The coach asked. Dean leaned over panting, hands on his knees, drenched in sweat but very pale. He felt light headed, and no matter how much he breathed, he didn’t feel like his breaths were doing anything. He heaved a few times, feeling like he could vomit, but he never did. 

“Yeah,” he wheezed. “I’m good…”

“Uh… I think you should call it a day, bud.” 

“No!” Dean grunted. “Really, I can keep going, I feel great!” 

“Uh-uh,” the coach said, shaking his head. “Hit the showers. We’re not doing this.” 

Dean heaved in a deep breath, and let out a heavy sigh, bowing his head out of shame. The coach pat him on the back after a short pause. 

“Look,” he said. “You worked hard today! I admire that! But right now, you’re in no shape to continue, and training matters to the rest of the team too, y’know? We can’t wait for you… You and I can meet early on the track, tomorrow, and do a little additional training. What do ya say?” 

Until Dean got back to his dorm, the rest of that afternoon was fuzzy. He couldn’t remember what he said to his coach, and how his teammates reacted when he left, but he figured his brain blocked it out due to embarrassment. He took a slow walk to the cafeteria and had lunch alone, which stung, figuring he always had lunch with his teammates on Saturdays, and then took a slow long walk back to his dorm. He slammed the door behind himself and flopped, face first onto his bed. 

“Bad day, eh?” said a gruff voice. Dean groaned and put his pillow over his head. He normally didn’t have a roommate, so he forgot about his guest, Gwydion. He felt a small hand on the back of his neck. 

“C’mon, don’t be like that. Tell me what happened.” 

Dean slowly sat up, pouting to himself. He didn’t look directly at his guest but he still was able to see him in his peripheral vision: a very tiny man with red hair and a red beard, wearing a green suit, a top hat, black buckled shoes, and a mischievous smile. The man was so small, that he stood on the bed, and was still shorter than Dean sitting down. 

“I lost my breath again,” Dean said. “Coach told me to go home… it just sucks. I was the best back in high school, but now I’m struggling to keep up. I’m the slowest runner… the worst at hurdles and high jump… and even if I train extra: it still doesn’t help…” 

Gwydion hopped and plopped down next to Dean, his tiny legs resting against the side of the bed. He looked up at Dean, giving him a look of pity. 

“I can see how that’s frustrating,” he said to Dean. “Ya work so hard and get nowhere… Turns out ya only get anywhere if ya have gold from the start.” Another glint of mischief flashed in the leprechaun’s eyes as he pulled a gold coin from his pocket, and flipped it with a flick of his thumb.

“Fortunately, I have gold, and you have me! So, what’s it gonna be?”

“No!” Dean said, his face scrunching up with disgust and bewilderment. The leprechaun’s smile faded and he looked at the ground with great disappointment. 

“Oh…” the Gwydion muttered. “That’s… okay, I guess.”

“How could you even suggest that, after last time?!” Dean shouted. Gwydion clenched his fists and looked up at the athlete once more, this time scowling. 

“Do ya think I like seeing ya embarrassed and upset?! If things don’t go your way then that means I’m failing.” 

“Bullshit,” Dean grunted. “You enjoy this.”

Gwydion suppressed a smirk, before, folding his arms, and averting his gaze. 

“Mmmm, no?” he mumbled. “I don’t wanna see you upset, but” —he couldn’t hold back a smile any longer— “it’s still… funny to be… creative with the wishes…”

“See?” Dean grumbled, raising an eyebrow at the leprechaun. Gwydion threw up his hands. 

“Alright, fine! I enjoy it! But either way: I can’t leave until your wishes are done. I’m bound here.”

“If you’re bound here, can you at least leave me alone?” 

The leprechaun’s scowl faded, and he averted his gaze, pouting with big eyes. 

“Well… I… I don’t-“

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Better that you stay here rather than screw things up.” He slid off of his bed and wandered over to his mini fridge. Gwydion snapped his fingers, disappearing in a puff of smoke, and reappearing, standing on top of Dean’s fridge. He raised both of his hands and bowed his head, so his eyes were concealed by the brim of his top hat. 

“Look, I know you’re afraid it will turn out like last time. But I just want to say… even if things don’t go how you want… I’ll ensure that we at least both like the outcome. Okay?”

Dean sighed. He could tell that Gwydion was being honest. It didn’t make sense to lie about not fulfilling the wish properly. And even if the leprechaun would act mischievous, and give fulfill his wish in a backwards way, Dean just wanted to get it over with, at that point. Aside from the first wish, Gwydion had been a kind guest to Dean, so Dean also felt like he wanted to give the leprechaun one more chance. 

“Alright, fine,” Dean sighed. Gwydion smiled, no mischief in his eyes this time, and instead looking rather touched. 

“Great! Now what do ya say?” 

“I wish… to be able to run faster, and jump higher, without needing to catch my breath.” 

“I can do that!” Gwydion said, nodding in acknowledgement, “but the question is, by what means?” His voice quieted down with that question. He looked away, and furrowed his brow, then took out his gold coin, flipped it with his thumb, catching it in his palm. He repeated this motion over and over as he thought. 

Dean watched the coin, absentmindedly as he waited for Gwydion to grant his wish, following it with his eyes as it flew upward and fell back into the leprechaun’s tiny palm. He couldn’t help but notice how shiny it was, and how clean it looked, reflecting flickers of light as it spun in the air. He began to space out as he watched the coin, his eyes glued to it, forgetting what was going on in that moment. 

The leprechaun looked back at the athlete, and then cocked an eyebrow, not understanding what Dean was looking at. He followed his gaze as he flipped the coin once more, and then smiled as he realized what was going on. 

“Dean? Dean!” Gwydion shouted. Dean flinched, blinking as he came back to reality, to meet the gaze of the grinning leprechaun. 

“Sorry! I must’ve spaced out,” he said. “I uh… I do that a lot, especially when I’m bored.” 

“Oh it’s no problem at all,” Gwydion said. “In fact, I think ya just gave me an idea.” His smile widened, the mischievous glint returning to his eyes. 

“O-oh…” Dean mumbled, his voice stuck in his throat as he fearfully studied Gwydion’s face. “What is it, this time?” 

“Hey, easy, easy!” Gwydion said, waving his hand. “No need to get all squeamish. I’m not gonna hurt ya! It’ll be fun!” 

“What is it?” Dean repeated. 

“Ugh,” Gwydion grunted, folding his arms. “It’s never gonna work if you’re all scared and uptight!” He kicked open the fridge door. 

“Here,” the leprechaun said, “have a snack! Get your mind off of it!” 

Dean’s gaze pierced through the leprechaun with distrust and disapproval. Then he sighed and knelt down to look into his fridge. He scanned each of the shelves, looking at the vegetables he stocked up on, all of his leftovers, and all of his energy drinks and protein shakes he bought. Dean looked for a good while, but despite his lack of energy and intense hunger, nothing sounded appealing to him at that moment. 

Gwydion waited for Dean to get distracted, to once again be so absorbed in the task of looking for something to eat that he’d forget what he was doing. Once he saw awareness leave the man’s eyes and focus replace it, Gwydion made his move. He closed his hand around the coin, tightening his fist until it made a crunch, then opened his fist to reveal glowing gold dust. He blew the dust from his palm into Dean’s face. 

The magical dust stung Dean’s eyes, and made his skin burn and tingle a little. He shut his eyes tightly and then rubbed them groaning with irritation. 

“What was that, for?!” he grumbled. The tingling became a tickle all over his face, growing especially intense in his nose. The tip of his nose grew hot and a little bit red, but then the tip of his nose began to soften, the redness growing more intense, but also brighter, his nose turning pink. His soft pink nose began to twitch, and this twitch grew faster and faster, showing no sign of stopping. The skin under his nose began to itch, as well, followed by several light pricking pains as thick hairs broke his skin, stretching away from the center of his face, growing longer and longer until he grew fully formed whiskers. 

Dean looked inward at his nose as it twitched, staring with shock, and perhaps a little bit of fear, but this twitch tickled him as well, so it became impossible to hold back a smile. Not only did it tickle, but when he was able to look past the peculiarity of the situation, Dean found it amusing. His teeth hurt as he began to smile, and at first he thought it was because he clenched his jaw a little too much, but his incisors began to grow bigger and wider, doubling and tripling in size, jutting over his bottom lip. 

A wonderful scent entered Dean’s nostrils. It was a familiar scent, but one that he never had the appreciation or until that moment. 

“Carrots!” He squealed. He stuck his  into the fridge and grabbed the bag of baby carrots, tearing into it, grabbing a handful of them, and biting into three of them at once. He chewed a bit but then held the carrots in his mouth with his jaw dropped, his eyes rolling back. To say the carrots were just ‘delicious’ would be ignoring what else he liked about them. They brought him joy, like a long awaited holiday meal, and they felt nostalgic to him, like a home cooked meal from a grandparent. He scarfed down as many as he could at once, barely taking a break to breathe. When he was done, he locked eyes with Gwydion, who had his fist against his mouth as he struggled to hold back laughter. Dean stared back wordlessly, with wide eyes, his nose still twitching.

“So,” Gwydion began, his voice cracking, “what do ya think?”

“You’re… turning me into a bunny?” Dean asked. 

“That way you can jump higher, and run faster!” Gwydion said, counting on each of his fingers. “So, how do ya feel?”

“I feel…” Dean muttered, squinting with uncertainty. He didn’t know how he should feel, as what had just happened was very strange. He was worried about something like this happening, and it seemed that this minimal change to his body also brought about some change to his mind. It would be worrisome, but somehow he felt pretty amused by this. He smiled, his incisors pressing against his bottom lip. 

“I feel great!” he chirped. 

“See?” Gwydion said. “I told ya you’d like it!” The leprechaun reached up to pat Dean on the head. Dean shut his eyes, and nuzzled closer to Gwydion as a twinge of joy emerged in his heart, warmth pervading him from within. This joy brought a pleasant shiver down his spine, tingles spreading across his back. There was this pressure in his lower back that grew stronger and stronger, before it vanished, a loud rip breaking the silence. This tingle became a tickle, something warm and soft brushing at his back. His eyes opened wide, confusion clear across his face as he looked over his shoulder, and looked behind himself, only to find a big round fluffy rabbit tail wiggling back and forth with glee. He reached back and pat his hand on it, another twinge of amusement emerging from within. This time however, he frowned. 

“Hey Gwy,” he said. “What should I do around other people? I can’t just walk around looking like this.” 

Gwydion had an answer to this question, but he decided not to answer. Instead, he took on an inquisitive expression, and stroked his beard. 

“Hmmm,” he muttered. “That would be a problem, wouldn't it? Let me think.” With his free hand, the leprechaun pulled out another gold coin from his pocket, and flipped it and caught it over and over again. Dean watched the coin, as he waited for the leprechaun’s response, but his mind wandered back to the coin’s appearance, back to the glimmer and the beauty of its sparkling sheen. Gwydion gave Dean a furtive glance and smirked a little as he saw Dean falling back into a trance. He gave the coin a few more flips, and each time, he flicked it higher and higher into the air. Dean began to follow the coin, his head bobbing up and down, his rabbit nose wiggling as he watched with intrigue. Eventually Gwydion flicked the coin so high that it went above Dean’s head. Dean brought his arms in front of him at chest level, letting his hands flop downward, and hopped upward to keep his eyes on the coin. He flipped up high again and again, and each time Dean hopped to keep watching the coin, his nose wiggling and his tail wagging. The leprechaun’s smile widened into a grin.

Dean’s mind went mostly blank throughout all of this, half-thoughts and memories crossing his mind, about when he met Gwydion, about the way he felt at that moment as a bunny… he fantasized about how much faster he would be once his wish was fully granted… and as he continued to watch the coin, he felt more like a bunny, somehow, feeling more chipper, energetic… There was this emotional lightness about him, and most of all, something was beginning to change within the core of his ‘self.’ He didn’t know what it was or what it meant, but it just felt different. 

Dean felt warmer and warmer with each hop. Unbeknownst to him, a thick layer of blond fur began to break his skin on his legs, at starting off as short thin patches of hair, but growing to become soft, warm, and fluffy. His feet twitched and wriggled a little in his socks as each of his toes grew bigger, each of his two smallest toes fusing together. Both of his socks tore, to reveal his growing hind-paws.  The skin on the soles of his feet grew softer, squishier, and his toenails began to shrink and retract, disappearing under the thick fur that grew all around his feet. 

Gwydion caught the coin in his palm and closed his fist around it. Dean blinked and shook his head, coming back to his senses, to which the leprechaun cocked an eyebrow feigning confusion. 

“Ya alright there, bud?” he asked. “Ya spaced out again.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Dean muttered. 

“Hey, looks like you’re already getting bunny!”

The leprechaun gestured at Dean’s hands; Dean flinched and dropped them back down at his side. And then he noticed his paws, and the fur on his legs. His eyes widened, and one of his paws thumped the ground over and over with anxiety. Yet, the joy somehow still shined through, and he couldn’t hold back a smile. He couldn’t stop thinking about how cool this was, how interesting it was to change. 

“Maybe being a bunny won’t be such a rough adjustment,” Gwydion continued.

Dean smiled, but also grimaced a little bit as he looked off to the side. He was enjoying this transformation. The tickling sensation as he changed was satisfying. Examining the way he changed, both physically and mentally, was amusing. And acting as a bunny filled him with an indescribable glee. It wasn’t the same joy he had when winning a race, or speaking with friends… it was almost childlike. But despite all of that, he couldn’t help but wonder, should he be enjoying it? 

“I… I dunno about all of this,” Dean muttered. 

Gwydion cocked an eyebrow, this time real confusion splayed across his face. 

“Why not?! This is the happiest you’ve looked in weeks! Your wish will be granted, you’re blowing off some stress, you’re undergoing healthy changes… I see no downsides!” 

“I dunno, I just… things can go wrong…”

“Hop with your heart!” Gwydion replied. “Be gleeful, not smart!”

“Did you make that up just now?” 

“Worrying about mundane stuff like that will get ya bogged down,” Gwydion explained, “and too much thinking is gonna kill the magic. Just feel what you’re gonna feel, and enjoy the wish as it’s granted.” 

Dean smiled, and nodded to himself. Gwydion was right; he didn’t need to worry so much about what was to come. He could stay in his room for the time being, and enjoy the new changes. And, if anything were to go wrong, he still had one more wish, and he still had magic on his side. Besides: Gwydion was mischievous, and maybe a little clumsy with his work, but he never showed any intention or desire to purposely hurt Dean. He knew Gwydion wouldn’t let him get hurt. 

Dean brought his hands back up to his chest, letting them flop in front of him, and smiled. He wiggled his pink nose and wagged his tail, his smile widening at the sensation of both of these actions. 

“Now, why don’t we have a little fun?  Who wants a carrot?” Gwydion asked, picking up a carrot and holding it out for Dean to eat. Dean leaned closer, wide-eyed, and began sniffing the carrot. He opened his mouth to bite it but then the leprechaun snatched it away, wagging a finger at the bunny man. 

“No, no, not yet!” Gwydion sang. 

“But… why not?” Dean asked, giving into his uncharacteristic urge to pout. 

“Ya haven’t earned it yet,” Gwydion sneered. His mischievous grin widened, showing his angular, sharp teeth. Dean huffed and rolled his eyes. 

“Well, if you’re gonna play games with me, I can always just get my own carrot. I have an entire bag of them, remember?” 

Dean knelt down and went to look in the fridge but the leprechaun cut him off.

“Ahh, but that’s the question, isn't it?” Gwydion asked. “Do ya want to eat a carrot by yourself, all alone in your room with nothing to do, or” —he reached out to gently touch Dean on the cheek— “do ya want one from me, your ol’ pal Gwy, who loves ya, who’s always there for ya, who cares about ya?” The leprechaun spoke in a hushed yet friendly voice. His touch felt very gentle, very delicate, like a friendly cat brushing against him. His heart fluttered, feeling a deeper bond with the leprechaun. His pupils dilated once more as he looked into Gwydion’s emerald eyes, feeling comforted by his loving expression, yet mesmerized by his gaze. 

“I want one… from you,” Dean whispered. 

“Good,” Gwydion whispered. “Now listen closely, my bunny.” 

There was a tickle on the tips of Dean’s ears as they began to stretch out slightly, becoming pointed at the tip. He noticed his hearing was much clearer, more acute, and that Gwydion’s words stuck in his mind more.

“I promise ya that I will make sure you’re happy,” Gwydion said, “I’ll make sure you’re safe. I’ll pet ya, I’ll feed ya carrots… I’ll give ya what you need… as long as ya do as I say…  That’s fair, isn't it? Ya do me a favor, and you get all the carrots you want.” 

With his eyes still fixated on Gwydion’s eyes, Dean nodded slowly. 

“Good,” Gwydion cooed, “now I want ya to remember that. I want ya to keep in mind that doing me favors, that listening, being good, and doing as your told, will get you what you want and need: love, care, happiness, and carrots… and I want ya to hold that with you as ya listen and follow my words. I want ya to listen to my voice, to hold onto my words, and be happy, and feel safe, as you know you’ll be pet and loved. I want ya to enjoy it as ya do as I say, without question, as you know it is the inevitable path toward carrots.”

Dean was so deep into this happy carefree idea that he thought not for any consequences. He thought Gwydion was kind, and could get him what he wanted, and as Gwydion spoke to him, his words became true; Dean loved listening to Gwydion, soaking in what he was saying, savoring his soothing voice, and sinking down into serene submission. If he listened, if he obeyed, he would be loved, appreciated, and given carrots, all three being things that he wanted, so submission became automatic. 

“That’s the spirit!” Gwydion shouted, punching Dean on the arm. Dean flinched, blinking several times as he snapped out of his trance. 

“Happy we could come to a little agreement,” Gwydion said. 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean muttered, rubbing his head. He couldn’t quite remember the full context of this ‘agreement’ but he knew it was to his interest. 

“Wait, you never answered my question though,” Dean said.

“Which one?”

“What do I do around other people? I can’t just walk around looking like a rabbit.” 

“Oh you’ll be okay,” the leprechaun said. “It’s just like others being able to see me!” 

“So… I’ll be invisible?” 

“No, they’ll just see you as a human, no matter how bunny ya look… but: they’ll still notice if you start eating too many carrots.”

“Got it,” Dean said, nodding. He stood up, and walked away from the fridge. 

“Well, thanks for the wish. I think I’m gonna go test out how it’s working.” 

“Wait, aren’t ya gonna rest first?” Gwydion asked. “Ya had a rough morning, didn't ya? It’s not healthy to hop right back in.” 

“Ahh you’re right,” Dean muttered. “I’m a little hungry. Maybe I should have a snack first. Do you wanna come along?” 

The leprechaun’s eyes widened, staring at dean with a look of shock. “Really?! You’d ask me to come with ya?” 

“Sure,” Dean said, shrugging. “Maybe that last wish was… rough, but this one’s pretty cool. And you’re a nice guy, so I’d love to talk over some coffee.” 

“But you said-“ 

“I’m sorry,” Dean huffed. “I mean… I still hated that last wish, and I wanna make sure you don’t do it again, but… I still think you’re nice.” 

The leprechaun smiled, his eyebrows curling upward in a look that made him look like he was trying not to cry.

“Ohh it makes me so happy to hear ya say that!”

“One foot in front of the other! Careful not to fall!” Gwydion said. Carrying a paper cup of coffee, and a muffin, Dean stumbled over his big rabbit feet, and plopped down in a chair by a table near the center of the room. The cafe had a few people sitting with their coffees and conversing, already, but it wasn’t overwhelmingly packed or busy. 

“Heh, this will take some getting used to!” Dean said, his tail wiggling with amusement. He had his cellphone crooked between his shoulder and his pointed ear, making it look like he was talking to someone over the phone when he was speaking to Gwydion. 

“Hey Gwy, when will the rest of the change happen? I think you’ve put me in an… awkward place, right now.” 

“Give it some time,” Gwydion answered. “You’re not quite ready for the rest of it.” The leprechaun hopped from the floor to a chair, and then from the chair up onto the table. 

“And when ya are,” Gwydion said. “I’ll be right there with ya, making sure ya know what you’re doing.” 

“Okay, but when will I be ready?” Dean asked. When waiting for an answer, he went to sip his coffee, but struggled with his oversized incisors, and spilled a little bit on his shirt. 

“Oh, what does it matter?” Gwydion asked. “I mean, would ya want to change some more, in front of everyone?”

“You’re right,” Dean said. “Let’s not worry about that now. I wanna hear more about you.” 

The leprechaun recoiled, putting a hand over his heart. His mouth opened like he was going to say something but he choked on the words. 

“M-me?” He asked. 

“Yeah, you, silly!” Dean chuckled. “Why are you so surprised?” He took a big bite out of his cinnamon muffin. “Well… I guess people don’t really ask about me. They just want my gold.” “What?! That’s crazy!” Dean said with his mouth half full. “How could no one ask you questions when you’re a le-… when… you’re from such an interesting place?” 

“You don’t know where I’m from,” Gwydion said, smirking. 

“Then tell me!” 

The leprechaun let out a deep sigh. He looked off to the side, and stepped to the edge of the table, staring at a spot on the ceiling as if searching for his home up there. 

“I’m in a place, with rolling green hills among the clouds, with cool breeze and a mild sun. With rivers that are crystal clear, and where the pebbles that speckle the ground are all the shiniest gold. It’a place where pure luck, joy, and good fortune are all so abundant, that they shoot from the ground in a multi-colored geyser, that stretches across the sky after your storms.”

“Wow, that sounds-“

“But,” Gwydion said, lowering his head, his face going stern. “It’s also a place of the sharpest hail, the biggest floods, the bluest flames. It’s where the monsters may prowl and fears may endlessly howl in your mind. It’s a place of both dreams and nightmares. It’s a land of pure thought.” 

“Oh…” Dean muttered. 

“Ya see this coin?” Gwydion asked, pulling another gold coin from his pocket, “that’s where it comes from, ya see? It can reflect both our thoughts and desires. That’s how I can grant ya a wish.”

Dean reached out to touch the coin

“So if I were to just-”

“That’s not a good idea,” the leprechaun said, pulling it away. “Humans… ya think too much. And it’s not your fault, ya can’t stop it. But… If you’re not careful you could think about the wrong thing, like… fires, or a lion, and it’ll just… materialize.” 

“Wow… Wait so in this… place you’re talking about, what other… types of people are there?” 

“Oh there’s a bunch! Selkies, goblins, ogres, devils, angels… loads of different people from all sorts of stories.” 

“Any stories?” 

“Just about,” Gwydion said, shrugging. Dean furrowed his brow, and took a long sip of coffee before he asked his next question. His nose wiggled with curiosity. 

“… what about… the new ones?”

“New ones?” Gwydion asked, cocking an eyebrow

“Yeah, the new stories! Y’know, like in the movies! Like the X-Men, or… those blue guys in Avatar?” 

“I’ve heard of them, but-“ 

“You have?!” Dean shouted, before covering his mouth when he people started looking at him. 

“But… how is that possible?” Dean said, lowering his voice.” 

“Well… the ‘X-men’ don’t call themselves that, all the time, but yes, they’re real… an offshoot of the human race.”

“But… they’re just stories,” Dean whispered. Gwydion shrugged. 

“As I said: it’s the land of pure thought. Any idea is possible, and anything can take any form… but”—Gwydion scratched his head, and furrowed his brow. “—It’s sorta hard to tell what came first, sometimes! Whether it’s the human’s ideas that caused an entire species to form, or if it’s the existence of the species that brought about the humans. When anything’s possible, it’s always hard to tell.” 

Dean stared at the table, putting his head in his hands, and rubbing his temples his phone hitting the table with a slap. 

“But,” Gwydion said, stroking his beard. “What was that… that thing ya asked about before?” 

“What do”— Dean fumbled for his phone when he realized he should still be faking a call. —“… what do you mean? Movies?” 

“Yeah, that! What are those?” 

“You don’t know about movies?” Dean asked, hushing his voice. “Movies are awesome! You have this- this big screen, and there’s like… there’s people on the screen, and you see them… acting out a story, like a play, kinda!” 

“How did the people get trapped in there?” Gwydion asked. “Did someone wish for a leprechaun or djinn to do it?” 

“Oh no, they’re not trapped,” Dean said. “It’s like… uhh… a replay of the past. So… I could eat this muffin” —he took a big bite out of his muffin again, and chewed it for a long time, long enough to make Gwydion’s anticipatory stare uncomfortable— “and you can… watch it again, as many times as you want!” 

“I… don’t think I’d wanna watch that again,” Gwydion mumbled, to which Dean let out a hardy laugh. 

“Man, you’re really funny,” Dean muttered. “I wish we could spend more time like this-“ 

Gwydion grin, flipping his coin, and catching it in his palm. The coin began glowing. 

“Granted,” Gwydion sneered. 

Dean stared at Gwydion , his eyes wide, and his jaw dropped. He choked on his own words, shut his eyes for a moment, before scowling. 

“What?!” he hissed. 

“Granted!” Gwydion chirped. “The two of us can spend more time together, and we can become good friends!” 

“But- but-“ Dean stammered, putting his phone down. He didn’t care how he looked at that point. 

“You said that you’re stuck here!” Dean hissed. 

“No, I said I’m bound here, which I was… ‘stuck’ implies that I don’t wanna be here. But now, your wish set me free! I can go home if I want, and I can return to you as much as I please.” 

“So what, are you just gonna follow me around forever, now?” Dean whispered. “Just show up when I don’t want you to?!” 

“Hey, you’re the one who wished that we could spend more time together, and I’d personally love to grant that wish, no strings attached.” 

Dean covered his eyes, putting his head in his hands, and sighed. He couldn’t quite process what his wish had meant, and when he thought about a future that Gwydion would forever be a part of, that the leprechaun could possibly decide to never leave him alone… it put a pit in his stomach. 

“Hey, hey, easy! It’s okay!” Gwydion cooed. Dean felt a small hand touch his arm. “You and I are gonna have fun together. Plus… since we’re friends, I can give ya more wishes… when I feel like it, at least.” 

“I wish you’d leave me alone, right now,” Dean whined, his voice muffled by his hands. 

“Hey! I said when I feel like it!” Gwydion grunted. 

Dean got up from his chair, shoved the rest of his muffin in his mouth, picked up his coffee, and his phone, and walked toward the exit. 

“Hey! Dean, buddy! Don’t be like that!” The leprechaun called after him. When Dean exited the cafe, he shut the door on Gwydion. A couple of seconds later, the leprechaun reappeared next to him in a puff of smoke. 

“Come on! I know we were getting along, and that we were having a good laugh! I thought you’d like this wish, too!” 

Dean kept walking, kept acting like Gwydion wasn’t there, and acting like he couldn’t hear or see the leprechaun, just like everyone else. Maybe if he pretended for long enough, Gwydion would get bored and leave. 

“If you wanna be like that, fine!” The leprechaun scolded, calling after Dean as he walked away. “But don’t forget our little agreement!” 

Dean didn’t quite remember the agreement. He thought it had something to do with carrots?

Whatever, he thought. I can just buy my own carrots, I don’t need him!

“Dean, you are an animal!” His coach shouted. The next day, at practice, Dean got to try out his wish, and see how far his new paws would take him, and oh boy did they take him much farther than he expected! Dean grinned at his coach, his tail wagging and one of his paws thumping the ground with excitement. He felt so much lighter on his feet, felt much more spring in each step. He could run so fast he felt like he was cutting through the air like a knife. 

“You got so much faster in a single day.”

“Thanks coach,” Dean said. “It’s really nothing, I just needed a bit of motivation, that’s all!”

“Give yourself some credit, bud!” The coach said, patting him on the arm. “This is more than motivation. Like… You must have some secret sauce or something, what have you been eating?!” 

“Carrots,” Gwydion said, walking up from behind Dean, “Lots, and lots of carrots.”

Dean froze, the smile vanishing from his face, his breath getting caught in his lungs, his foot continuing to thump, but this time out of fear. The coach cocked an eyebrow.

“Dean? Are you okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah, what’s wrong, Dean?” Gwydion cooed. “Why so scared? It’s just me, your pal!” 

“Alright, looks like your brain is fried and you deserve a break,” The coach said, forcing on a smile. “Hit the showers, bud.” 

Dean zipped away from the scene, running faster than he ever had. His feet felt like they barely touched the ground at all, and it seemed to him that he made it all the way to the locker room in a few seconds. 

“Dean!” Gwydion shouted. 

“AHH!” Dean screamed, jumping so high he almost hit the ceiling, before landing on his behind. When Dean had turned the corner to the locker room, the leprechaun was standing right in front of him. 

“Oww,” he muttered, on the verge of tears. 

“Buddy,” Gwydion cooed. “It’s just me, I’m not gonna hurt ya.” 

“Why did you show up now?!” Dean cried. “You were gonna embarrass me, or something!” 

“I just wanted to check if my wish worked!” Gwydion said, holding one of Dean’s paws, petting it. “And I’m glad it did! I’m so happy for you.”  The petting on his paws felt pleasant, and it brought him some happy, calming chills. But even so, he felt uneasy with the leprechaun that was with him.

“I don’t get it,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Why do you want to follow me around so bad? Why did you count my comment as a wish?”

“Well, for one, it’s what you said to me… I think you’re cool, and that you’re funny. I want to spend more time with ya!” 

Dean’s expression softened at this. Slowly all of his nerves, all of the tension he held, began to dissolve, feeling more at ease. At the same time, guilt began to eat at his gut. If what Gwydion said was true… then Dean must have made him feel rejected, or unwanted. 

“Look, all the people I meet are always so selfish, or so rude, or… they just wanna get their wishes over with and they don’t want me. And even when ya act all annoyed, you still paid attention to me, at least.” 

“Then… why didn’t you just say that?” Dean asked. “Why did you trick me into making that wish?” 

“I didn’t wanna trick ya,” Gwydion said, scratching his head. “I didn’t mean to scare ya, and I didn’t mean for it to seem like I tricked ya. I just found it funny that ya made a wish that I wanted too, and I wanted to show ya that it can come true.”

“So… that’s it?” Dean sighed. “You’re… not trying to get back at me, or anything?”

“Well, I’ll admit,” Gwydion started, raising a defensive hand. “I was a little annoyed yesterday when you left. But… no, I’d never wanna hurt ya, or embarrass ya.” 

Dean let out a long sigh as he finally let go of all of his tension, sitting back and smiling. Gwydion continued to pat one of Dean’s fluffy paws, to which Dean’s smile widened. 

“Just as I said before, I’ll take care of ya. I’ll make sure you feel happy. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.” 

The leprechaun stroked Dean’s fur, and gave his paw a gentle squeeze, massaging it. Dean shut his eyes with a soft exhale, joy shimmering within him. A moment ago he was afraid, and wanted to run from the leprechaun. Now, he felt safe around him. He felt like he could let down his guard emotionally, and like he could feel whatever he needed to feel around Gwydion. 

“That’s a good bunny,” Gwydion cooed. “What nice, big paws ya have… Look at your cute little whiskers and your teeth…”

Dean’s heart fluttered, his euphoria for being a bunny resurfacing, feeling content with his inhuman form, but also incredible love and joy hearing someone compliment him about being a bunny. 

“And… what nice ears you have… but they’re not quite bunny yet…” 

Dean opened his eyes, and looked at Gwydion, feeling somewhat hurt by that remark, but knowing it to be true. Gwydion stared back with a kind, affectionate look in his emerald eyes. 

“But they’re big ears… big ears for listening. I know you can listen well… and if ya do, then maybe I can fix them? Make them bunny like the rest of ya?” 

Dean nodded. 

“Good,” Gwydion cooed. “Then why don’t ya get off the ground?” 

Dean pushed himself up with one hand, at first so that he was sitting, then put one floppy paw on the ground at once, settling into a crouch, and went to stand up, but then Gwydion raised a hand, motioning for him to stop. 

“That’s as far as ya go,” he stated. “You’re a bunny, so you should stay in a bunny stance.” Dean lifted his hands, letting them flop down in front of his chest, wiggled his nose, and wiggled his tail. 

“Very good,” Gwydion whispered. He pulled out a coin from his pocket, one that glowed gold, and held it up for Dean to see. 

“This was your last wish, that we could spend more time together… and I can make that wish always true, if ya open your big ears, and listen.” 

The word ‘listen’ reverberated in his mind, making him feel warmer, and fuzzier, but making his heart flutter and his stomach churn. His ears burned tingled, as they began to stretch.

“Listen more,” Gwydion said. Dean’s eyes glazed over, his smile widening as the leprechaun’s voice pierced the very center of his mind, filling his thoughts. Meanwhile his ears doubled in size yet again, the tips of each ear reaching the top of his head, the cartilage thickening, and new muscles growing within, allowing him to bend and move them at will. 

“Listen more,”  Gwydion whispered. Dean’s paw thumped as he felt lighter and happier, more filled with love. Each ‘listen’ he heard felt as if Gwydion was pulling a string on Dean’s heart, and tethering it closer to his own. His ears stretched one more time, growing far above his head, the base of each ear settling near the top of his head. His ears felt even warmer as fur broke the skin, blond fur on the outside, and white fur on the inside of each ear. 

“Good bunny,” Gwydion said. The bunny shut his eyes and let out a long sigh. Hearing the leprechaun’s voice in his mind made him feel as close to him as possible. 

“Now,” the leprechaun cooed, “near or far, you can always listen to me. You can always follow my words, and be comforted. And guess what” —Gwydion tapped the tip of one of his own pointed ears— “I got big ears too. I can always hear ya. Alright?” 

Dean smiled, his eyes watering. He didn’t know why, but more than anything in that moment, he wanted to hug Gwydion, yet he didn’t feel brave enough to do so. After some pause, he nodded in response.

“Great,” Gwydion muttered. He walked to the edge of the locker room, and then paused, glancing over his shoulder at Dean. 

“Love ya!” he said, before disappearing in a puff of smoke.  Dean froze for a long time, not moving, not breathing, just remaining crouched down in the corner of the locker room. Once he no longer felt paralyzed, he found he still could only look straight ahead, not quite being able to process what he heard. Eventually, he mustered up the courage to whisper under his breath, something that he knew Gwydion could hear with his magical ears. 

“Love you too.”

Dean loved being a bunny far more than he loved being a human, but he found that his new form came with downsides, still. In the days he spent as a bunny, he found he felt much more prone to anxiety or fear, and when he had anxious bouts, he wouldn’t be able to hide it, his nose twitching or his foot thumping always giving it away. In addition: his new hobby was to run around in a grassy field, as fast as possible, for as long as possible, and he always felt the highest level of exhilaration in doing so, as if he were on a rollercoaster, or skydiving. This meant that whenever he wasn’t running around, he felt immensely more bored, and the hours during class ticked by much slower than they already did. 

This is why he was overjoyed when he heard Gwydion’s voice in his head during class. 

“Dean,” he said. “Leave the classroom.” 

Dean’s tail wagged. His floppy ears, which were previously curled over his eyes, shot up. He lifted his head, and his bored deadpan expression became one of excitement. 

“Leave,” Gwydion repeated. “Bunnies aren’t supposed to be in class.” 

Dean slowly got up from his chair, a smile taking over his face as he felt the joyful reward in doing what he was told. In his trance, he wandered out of the classroom, without a word to his professor, and without his backpack. 

“Come over to the stairs,” Gwydion’s voice rang in his mind. Their ‘agreement’ was at the forefront of his mind as he followed Gwydion’s words: Do as he was told, and he would be fed carrots, loved, and pet. The thought of all three of these things, and the idea of being with Gwydion again all brought him into a mindless state of ecstasy, carelessly floating down the halls. Once Dean reached the side of the stairs, the leprechaun jumped off the banister, and landed on his shoulders. 

“Dean, buddy!” The leprechaun chirped. “I noticed ya went to practice, and then right to  class. Ya skipped breakfast and lunch! That’s not okay!” 

“Heh, thanks for looking out for me,” Dean said. 

“No problem,” Gwydion said. “Now let’s go get something to eat! A bunny needs his food.”

The cafeteria was empty that late in the afternoon, and there weren’t many options for food left, as most of it had run out during the initial lunch rush, but Dean’s stomach was rumbling, and just about everything looked delicious to him. He wandered over to the hamburger station, and licked his lips when he saw the beef patties. 

“Burgers? Really?” Gwydion asked. 

“Yeah, what’s wrong with burgers?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“That’s not gonna work well with your stomach.” 

“Whatever, I can eat what I want.”

Dean reached for the tongs but then Gwydion covered his eyes. 

“You’re not gonna eat a burger,” Gwydion said, his voice becoming soft and delicate. The tone sent chills down Dean’s spine, and immediately his submissive urge returned to him, feeling a sense of accomplishment putting the tongs down. 

“Good,” Gwydion cooed. “Now let’s play a game. Decide what you’re gonna eat with your nose, not your eyes. Sniff around and see what your bunny instincts tell ya.” Dean’s heart fluttered, excited to hop into this amusing game. He leaned his head back and sniffed the air over and over again. He was bombarded with different scents, such as the intense scent of grease, the smell of the sweets by the dessert stand, salty scents he didn’t recognize, the scent of the detergent from the floor having been mopped… He tried to focus in on one scent, one that smelled refreshing and a little sweet to him, and as he focused in on that scent he tried walking toward it. 

As he sniffed the air, he a familiar tickle in his face. This sensation was a little more intense than the tickles he previously felt, and as such, it brought him more joy than it normally did. Before, only the bottom of his nose was soft. But the cartilage in his whole nose softened, and began to flatten against his face, yet there was also a stretch on either side of his nose, making his nose broad and flat. His cheek bones softened as well, and began to stretch forward as his nose retracted backwards. His lips thinned but his philtrum, and the skin around his mouth both thickened, and swelled. All of these changes together formed his nose and mouth into a snout, but his face continued to change, his eyes growing bigger and wider, but spreading farther apart to make room for his snout, an indentation forming in his philtrum, before fully splitting open, and finally, blond fur spreading across his face, making warmth erupt across his skin, growing extra fluffy on the sides of his face, near his jaw.

It was a bit difficult to plate his own food with his eyes covered, but he managed to do so. When he was done, Gwydion uncovered his eyes, and jumped off his shoulders. 

“Ya have some very good taste, bunny,” he said. Dean looked down at his dish, now having to look past a big snout in his peripherals instead of a small nose. He found that all he took was a big plate of lettuce and three large carrots. He furrowed his brow, as he could have sworn he smelled something immensely sweet when he picked out his food, but didn’t see anything like that on his plate. He looked from the plate to the leprechaun and found that Gwydion was already skipping away to find a table.  Dean hopped behind him to keep up. 

Dean sat down in a table in the very corner of the cafeteria, and before he went to eat, he crossed his eyes to look inward at his snout. He pat himself on the snout, amused with this new form. 

“Ah ya don’t need to do that,” Gwydion said, hopping on the table. “I’ll do it for ya!” He reached up and pat Dean on the snout, and Dean nuzzled up to him once more. 

“Don’t think you’re immune,” Dean said. 

“Huh?” Gwydion asked, raising an eyebrow. Dean reached over and stroked the leprechaun’s beard. Gwydion grinned, and his face went a little red as Dean pet him. But Dean’s hand recoiled a bit after the first initial pat.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Gwydion asked. 

“That’s… way softer than I was expecting.”

“Heheh… thanks!” Gwydion mumbled, scratching his head. Dean stroked his beard a little bit more. Once he was satisfied, he turned toward his food, and went to pick up his fork and knife, but his fingers tensed up and twitched. 

“Huh?” he muttered, looking at his hands. each one of his fingers began to swell, growing less bony and more puffy, less and less space between each digit, except for his thumb, which shrank more and more until it retracted into his hand. The skin on his palms became softer and pink, while blond fur grew all over each hand. Dean stared at his new front-paws in shock. 

“That’s right,” Gwydion said. “You’re a bunny, and bunnies don’t use their hands, much less use silverware…” 

Dean raised an eyebrow at Gwydion. 

“Hey, this one isn’t… permanent, right?” he asked. 

“Oh no no!” Gwydion said, shaking his head. “You’ll go right back to normal, once this little game is done. Thought you’d find it fun.” 

“Yeah, I think it will be.”

“Well, then, what are ya waiting for? Eat the lettuce.” 

Dean lowered his head, sticking his face into the plate of lettuce and munched on his meal. The lettuce tasted far different than what he was used to, somehow tasting less bitter and more sweet. The crunch was more satisfying than it used to be, and it gave him the same satisfaction in flavor as eating a bag of chips, but of course, it didn’t make him feel as heavy as if he were to eat chips. Dean hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he scarfed down the entire plate of lettuce, and felt fully rejuvenated. 

The changes continued as he ate, fur creeping up his arms, some flab covering his muscle, making him feel softer and squishier. His stomach naturally became a bit bloated as he ate, but when the fur crept up his shoulders and reached his torso, his stomach grew even more, becoming flabbier, his toned abs and pecs becoming concealed under layers of fat. Dean’s shirt grew tight. The sleeves pinched at his arms, and his stomach, now covered in fluffy white fur, peeked out from under the bottom of his shirt. 

“Good bunny,” Gwydion said. 

The words stuck in Dean’s mind, his heart feeling more tightly tethered to Gwydion’s than before. He smiled and wordlessly nuzzled his head against the leprechaun’s suit. Gwydion chuckled to himself before lifting up a carrot. When Dean saw the carrot, his pupils dilated, and his long ears curled backward. 

“Time for dessert,” Gwydion said. 

Dean looked at himself in the mirror, attempting to smile, but unable to do so fully. He patted himself on the snout, felt the soft white fur on his belly, patted his tail, thumped his foot, and grabbed one of his ears with his hand, which was mostly back to normal, except for the blond fur on the back of his hand. He did all of these things to try and appreciate this new form of his, but something just didn’t satisfy him anymore. 

“Gwy?” he asked.

The leprechaun appeared next to him. 

“Yes, Honey Bunny?” The leprechaun asked. If Dean could blush under all his fur, he would. Gwydion had been calling him that name for at least a week since he had first transformed. Dean had told him it was embarrassing, but Gwydion kept calling him that in a tongue in cheek kind of way, just to be annoying. 

“I know that… these parts of me aren’t visible for a reason, but I just want people to see me for who I am, even if it’s just for a little while.”

Gwydion furrowed his brow. 

“Hmmm… I understand. I think we can make that work!” 

“W-wait, we can?!” Dean asked. “Like, without everyone panicking? They can see me as a bunny?”

“Sure they can!” Gwydion said. “Though… this may be a bit jarring for ya. I’m gonna need ya to trust me.” 

Dean’s nose twitched with anxiety, but then he gave a curt nod, biting his bottom lip.

“Always,” Dean stated. 

“Great! Then let’s go for a walk.” 

Dean tilted his head, but followed along. The two of them went out of the dorm room, out of the building, and down the road, toward a public park. The sun was shining, but not too intense, with a nice spring breeze flowing across the field. There was quiet birdsong that morning, and the occasional chatter from children and families who either wandered by, or sat on benches in the park. Eventually however, a young boy caught sight of them, and pointed a finger, running toward Dean and Gwydion. 

“Leprechaun!” The boy shouted. Dean went agape and looked down at Gwydion. 

“He can see you?” Dean hissed. Gwydion smirked at Dean, before turning back to face the boy. 

“Jackson, it’s rude, to call people names,” his mother said, following behind the boy. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, going to grab the boy’s wrist. But Gwydion waved a passive hand.

“No no, it’s alright,” Gwydion said, before putting a hand by his mouth as if telling a secret. “I really am a leprechaun!”

Jackson beamed at his mother, to which his mother giggled. 

“Well, that’s very cool!” The mother said, “but we’re busy, Jackson, we have to go!” 

The woman grabbed the boy by the wrist, and began to walk away. 

“How could they see you?” Dean asked. 

“I can appear and disappear whenever I want,” Gwydion explained. “I don’t often appear… It can be dangerous and I’m not a fan of the attention, but fortunately, the attention won’t be on me.”

“Why not?” Dean asked, tilting his head. 

“Because I’m going for a walk in the park with my pet, who is a giant bunny.” 

“H-huh?” Dean asked. He didn’t have the chance to fully process this idea before Gwydion started giving commands. 

“C’mon, get into your pose,” he said. The words wormed their way through Dean’s ears and into the core of his mind once more, pushing themselves among his instincts. As he put his front paws in front of his chest and wiggled his nose again, his heart felt even more closely tethered to Gwydion’s, so close in fact that their will felt identical. 

“C’mon, be more bunny!” Gwydion commanded, “I want no thoughts between your eyes.” Dean’s eyelids drooped but his smile widened. His nose wiggled even faster than before. His mind, which constantly circled with all sorts of thoughts, began to feel wider and lighter, hollow somehow. 

“Down on all fours,” Gwydion said. “Bunnies don’t stand up for very long.” 

Dean fell forward, and settled on his hands and hind paws, his hands growing heavier and puffier and turning into paws once more.

“Show me you’re bunny enough. Eat the grass!” Without hesitation, Dean leaned forward and bit down on the grass, tearing it from the earth with his teeth, and crunching on it. It was delicious, had flavors he had never tasted before and didn’t know how to describe. And as always, he felt the a familiar sense of satisfaction in doing as Gwydion said. 

One last change happened, however that hadn’t happened before: Dean’s form began to shrink, where his torso grew bigger but both his arms and legs grew shorter, and shorter, shifting so that going on all fours would feel like a more natural position. He shrank more and more, his clothes at first being a little loose before looking comically large on him, but eventually stopped, not when he reached the size of an actual bunny, but when he reached the size of a medium sized dog. 

“Good bunny,” the leprechaun whispered, crouching down to look Dean in the eyes. “Now don’t say a word. Don’t think a word. You’re not Dean the human. You’re my loving, friendly pet rabbit. Be as bunny as you can be and then get bunnier. Be the animal that ya truly are.” 

Dean’s lifted his head and looked around the park, not quite sure understanding where he was or what had just happened, but he still felt very happy, and accomplished for doing something. But what had he done? 

“Whoa! Bunny!” A kid in the park shouted. 

“A big bunny!” Another kid shouted.  In seconds, a crowd of children formed around Dean. Dean got up on his hind legs, and thumped one of his feet, feeling a little bit nervous at all of the attention, but also excited. 

“Don’t get too close,” Gwydion said, “You’ll scare him.”

“He’s so cute!” A young girl said. “Can I pet him?” 

“Of course, he loves that!” 

Dean settled back on all fours, before he felt a tiny hand on his head. HIs nose wiggling, he nuzzled up to the hand, feeling especially warm and fuzzy inside. 

“He also loves being scratched under the chin,” Gwydion explained. The hand moved from the crown of his head down to his chin. Then another hand moved to the crown of his head and began petting him there. 

“He can also do tricks!” Gwydion said. 

“He can?!” A boy in a baseball cap beamed. 

“Yeah!” The leprechaun said. He pulled out two carrots and held each one out for the children to take. Two of the children each took a carrot. He looked to the boy with the baseball cap first. 

“Okay, you hold it up high for him to try and grab.” 

Once the boy held up his carrot high, Gwydion said, “Dean, beg!” Dean got up on each of his hind legs, and put his front paws together. 

“Good bunny! Now, you! Give him the carrot.” 

The boy giggled before handing Dean the carrot, who practically inhaled it. 

“And you,” Gwydion said, pointing to the girl. “Hold yours up even higher!” The girl held the carrot high above her head, and went on her tip toes. Dean looked up at it, sniffing, wagging his tail, and putting his front paws together. 

“Dean, hop!” Gwydion said. Dean left from the ground and chomped the carrot, landing back down on all fours. The girl screamed when the bunny sprung up, and fell to the ground giggling when he caught the carrot. Meanwhile, the boys all cheered and yelled at each other, both exclaiming things like “did you see that?!” And “That was so cool!” 

Once the kids left, Gwydion and Dean wandered through the park some more, and Dean had the privilege of being pet by many more people, including some kids, a few college students, and even a few elderly couples. And after he walked around the park, Gwydion wandered through the campus, and Dean got to prance around and be a bunny around his peers. Each time he was pet, he felt more loved, and more appreciated than he ever did. And more importantly, he felt like Dean, in the purest form of his ‘self.’ As a bunny, he didn’t remember much else, but he just knew he felt comfortable. 

“What did ya think of that?” Gwydion asked, once the day was done. The bunny nuzzled up to the leprechaun. Dean’s thoughts were diminished in this form, but he still has this great sense of gratitude. He didn’t understand why, but he knew he should be thankful toward the leprechaun for something. And somehow, he knew he wanted to keep doing this every day. He wanted to keep meeting new people, and getting pats, and getting love and attention from everyone around. At the same time… He knew that, for now, he didn’t want to walk any more. He wanted to go home, go to sleep, and just for a little while, he wanted to be a little less fluffy. 

[bluegoblinzz]

The Messenger must Moo

This is my story for Minomarch!!! … what do you mean minomarch is over?! It’s march 35th right now!! for real though: I finished this story at 2:30 AM, it is now 2:52 AM. So I’m in the state of “I can’t tell if this is amazing or total bull crap” (Pun intended.) I hope you enjoy. ******

Matthew met a minotaur at the mouth of the maze. The minotaur held out her hand, and Matthew stopped in his tracks, looking up at the beast. He shuddered as his mind jumped to the possibility of the minotaur getting angry and attacking, but he pushed that thought away, putting on a smile and nodding to the minotaur. The beast nodded back, and let out a snort. 

“I’m here to give a message to the queen,” Matthew said, holding up a scroll. 

The minotaur waved both of her hands, making precise, and quick gestures.

Matthew scratched the back of his head, and looked off to the side. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I don’t speak- err… sign your language.” 

She let out a long sigh, gestured to the heavy stone gate behind her, reached into a bowl beside her, and pulled out a golden hoop, slightly bigger than a normal ring but much smaller than a crown, with a gap cut out on one end.  She held it out for Matthew to take. The messenger furrowed his brow, staring at the golden ring as he tried to decipher what she was conveying. 

“You’re saying… I should wear this before I go inside?” 

She nodded. Matthew took the ring from the minotaur’s palm put the gap by his septum, and clicked it into place. He was surprised by how painless it was, and was surprised that he didn’t need a piercing to keep it in place. The minotaur pushed the gate open, the sound of heavy grinding stone reverberating throughout the halls, and then gestured for him to walk through. 

“Th-thank you!”

The messenger stepped into the torch lit stone maze, but when the gates closed behind him, he couldn’t take another step forward. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. The corridor before him was a bustling square, The walls and ceilings made of marble, multi-colored light emanating from glowing crystals in the ceiling. Dozens and dozens of minotaurs wandered, some conversing in sign, others carrying trinkets food and gold, the clopping of their hooves echoing off the walls. This wide corridor branched off into many other hallways, rooms and alcoves. 

As he wandered the labyrinth, Matthew had expected some hostility from the minotaurs, but instead: all of them seemed rather passive. Sure, some carried axes on their belts,  and some scowled at him, but most of them barely gave him a glance, and some even gave him a friendly wave and a lighthearted ‘mooo!’ They all seemed to have different senses in fashion, some having loose baggy clothing, others wearing tightly woven clothing, and some only wore short pants or coverings around their waists, without wearing anything over their chests. Most had nose rings, but some also had piercings on their ears as well. Some even dyed their hair, fur, or horns. 

The maze changed the more he wandered, hallways growing narrower and then wider and then narrow again, zig-zagging in sharp turns, and even changing materials from marble to granite, to hardened clay, and back to marble. He realized that some of these corridors lead to various different shops, eateries, or social centers, but he found no pattern in where any of them lied. Some corridors just lead to more winding corridors, but other times he would turn a corner and end up standing at the entrance of a blacksmith’s shop, or a clothing store, or a locked gate, which he assumed lead to someone’s residence. It was easy to get lost, so after wandering for what felt like a half hour, he finally decided that it would be smart to stop and ask for directions. 

He found a burly group of minotaurs wearing armor and badges, standing by and signing to each other. Matthew realized they must have been the guard or some kind of force. Maybe one of them could help him. 

“‘Scuse me,” Matthew said. All the minotaurs in the group turned to look at him, some holding stern expressions, others raising their eyebrows and lowering their ears in confusion.

“I have a message for the queen. I was wondering where I could find her?” He held out his scroll for one of the minotaurs to look at. A minotaur with black fur and a light snout in the front of the group took the scroll, opened it, skimming over the scroll. He mooed at a larger minotaur, probably the captain of that brigade, and pointed to something on the scroll for them to read, making some sign with one hand. The big minotaur snorted, took the scroll, rolled it up, and pushed it into a third minotaur’s chest, one with dark brown fur and dark brown eyes. The captain then signed something to this minotaur, to which this minotaur bowed his head in understanding, and walked up to Matthew, staring at him with an expectant expression. Matthew’s eyes wandered, feeling a little uncomfortable and unsure of what was going on, an engraving on his armor caught Matthew’s eye. On the left side of his chest, was the name PAUL carved into the metal. 

“Paul?” Matthew asked, “your names Paul?”  The minotaur snorted and shrugged. 

“Well… I’m going to call you that, if that’s alright.” 

“Mooo!” Paul said, giving a nod of approval. The captain gave Paul a gentle shove forward. Paul flinched, gave the captain a slightly irritated look, before walking behind Matthew and placing a strong, heavy hand on his shoulder. He began walking, forcing the messenger forward with him. 

“Oh! You’re gonna take me to her?” he asked. 

Paul snorted and nodded in response. Matthew smiled to himself, feeling a little bit relieved that he now had a guide and wouldn’t get lost. Also, he felt a little comforted by Paul’s hand on his shoulder, and it reminded him of his father guiding him through his city as a child. Perhaps Paul was just doing his job, but Matthew felt like he made a friend. Others around him always criticized him for being too trusting, too naive at times, but the world seemed so much nicer when he had a positive outlook like that. 

Heat like the hot summer sun touched his face and the skin around his nose. He looked at his nose and found that the surface of his nose ring appeared to take on the texture of molten metal, giving off a dim golden glow. He raised his eyebrows, and gave Paul a concerned glance. 

“H-hey Paul, is this normal?” he asked gesturing to the glowing nose ring. Paul’s eyes widened and he let out a surprised grunt. Then his eyes narrowed and he gave a stern nod. Matthew raised an eyebrow, and then looked away from Paul, not feeling convinced about his answer, given his initial reaction. He looked back at his nose ring, examining this strange glow. It was pleasant to his eyes, like staring into a campfire. The warmth spread past his face, the aura of the ring surrounding his head like a hood, seeping into all of the muscles in his face, loosening them. His thoughts, once sharp, fast, and anxious, became fuzzier, and slower. He lost focus on his surroundings, the ring now at the forefront of his thoughts. In his daze, his irises brightened, going from brown to glowing gold. 

His nose felt the most warm, but his ears and temples also felt just as warm for some reason. He wasn’t exactly sure why. Unbeknownst to him, his nose began to twitch, and ever so slightly, the tip of his nose began to retract back, and the sides of his nose began to stretch outward to either side of his face, his nostrils flaring and expanding. Meanwhile, the cartilage near the top of his ears began to stretch while the middle and bottom of each ear grew thicker. This temporarily made his ears triangular, having a pointy tip. His temples began to swell, starting off as small bumps that made his head appear more square at the top, then protruded more prominently into points. His short, light brown hair grew longer and thicker, growing down to the back of his neck.

“Mooh…” Paul muttered, giving Matthew a gentle push. The nose ring stopped glowing; Matthew’s nose grew pointier again, his eyes turned brown, and his temples flattened themselves out. Still, his ears remained pointed, and his hair remained long.

Matthew blinked, finally realizing he had spaced out, and that now he had no idea where he was. He found that he was now in a wide open room instead of a narrow hallway, made of some matte black stone. There were many long wooden tables with wooden benches, and several minotaurs sat at them, eating from stone plates, either with their hands, or by leaning over and sticking their snouts into their meals. A group of minotaurs wearing aprons worked by a stone counter, some kneading dough, and throwing balls of dough into a brick oven, others cooking  meat, and wrapping the meat into balls of dough. 

Matthew stood before a minotaur with blond fur and bright blue eyes who was at this counter. The blond minotaur snorted and signed something to Matthew.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Matthew said, “I don’t-“ 

The minotaur put up a hand, and then gestured to a few different stone dishes with different meals on them. One of them was a ball of bread, another was a slab of some kind of meat, and a third appeared to be some kind of stew. 

Matthew had realized that this wasn’t the queen’s place, and that Paul lead him to the wrong location, but he also couldn’t resist the food. It all looked so good. 

“That one, please!” he said, pointing to the bread ball. The minotaur slid the dish across the counter. Paul signed something to the minotaur, to which the minotaur nodded, and put a  a tall stone mug on the counter as well. Matthew looked inside, and saw a pale liquid. His face twitched with disgust, and then uncertainty as a thought crossed his mind. 

“This isn’t… from you, is it?” 

“Moo!” the blond minotaur grunted, shaking his head and scowling. 

“And it’s from… an actual cow, right?” 

The minotaur nodded. Matthew sighed with relief, before he grabbed the plate and the mug, and finding an empty table to sit at by the edge of the room. Paul sat down next to him with a bowl of stew, and immediately leaned into it. Slurping it up with his snout. Matthew chuckled at the Minotaur’s behavior, finding this aspect of their culture endearing. There was no need to be uptight and polite, they could eat however they wanted to!

Matthew’s teeth hurt when he first bit into his bread. The outside was so tough that he thought he may have broken a tooth, but the inside was immensely soft, and when he got a good taste of the filling his eyes widened. The bun was full of spicy peppers, a sweet sauce, and a meat that was salty, and had a dark sophisticated taste to it. It vaguely reminded him of pork, but it had more of the texture of chicken… duck! He had forgotten what it had tasted like because there was one other time he had eaten duck. The food to him was so exotic, so tasty that he immediately wanted to taste more, not stopping to swallow, eating with gusto. After a few bites, his tongue burned and his eyes watered from the spice, so he took a swig of milk. 

His nose ring lit up again, but this time he didn’t notice, being too focused on his food. Every bite of food he made his stomach bloat and gargle, thickened out his fingers, added more fat to his arms, thighs, sides, and his face. Every swig of milk caused his temples to swell once more, becoming huge bumps on the sides of his head, until they broke his skin, revealing a short shiny set of horns. The milk also made his bones thicker, and began to elongate his legs and his spine, causing dramatic growth in height. He started off with the table being up to his chest, but as he grew, he began to hunch over in order to eat. These changes to his physique made his clothes tight on him, where his shirt pressed against his chest and left his stomach and lower back completely exposed, while his pants, once baggy and long, became skin tight, and only went down to his shins. Both his shirt and his pants began to tear at the seams. 

His face underwent a more dramatic change than the first time, where the tip of his nose flattened against his face, but his nose as a whole broaden, becoming wide bump in the center of his face. His nostrils flared and expanded once more, growing farther apart, the center of his nose thickening out. As his nose got wider, the nose ring grew bigger as well. The front of his face grew darker, the skin growing rough and leathery, but also wet. 

His teeth thickened and grew stronger, allowing him to easily bite through the hard outer shell of the bread, and chew the duck more easily as well. The bump on the front of his face grew more square and began to push forward, and with it, his bottom jaw widened and stretched forward as well, his nose and mouth coming together into a short snout. 

Lots of sauce got all over his hands, staining his skin and darkening his palms. His fingers got stuck together, Where his index fingers couldn’t separate, nor could his pinky and ring fingers. Soon the space between them shrank, as excess skin grew between them, fusing them together, and leaving behind no seam, causing each hand to have three large fingers. 

Matthew’s bread ball was not very stable, and fell apart completely about halfway through eating it, so he leaned into his dish, and began to eat straight from the plate, just like the minotaurs did. As for his milk, instead of picking up the mug to drink it. he kept slurping it or lapping it up. When Paul was done with his meal, he looked over at Matthew and smirked. Once Matthew was done eating, he lifted his head from his dish, took a deep breath in and let out a snort. His eyes glazed over as he retreated back into his own mind, deep into his own thoughts. The food left him satisfied, but made him feel sleepy. Combined with the warm glow of the ring, his entire body began to feel warm and loose. 

Paul nudged Matthew, and all at once, the ring stopped glowing, and all these changes undid themselves, the big awkward half beast shrinking back down into a man. 

“Oh, sorry about that,” Matthew replied with a sheepish smile, “The food was so good… I kinda lost focus there, again.” 

Paul narrowed his eyes, and lowered his ears. Matthew’s smile faded. 

“What’s wrong?”

He looked down at himself, and his eyes widened when he saw all the tears in his clothing. 

“Oh geez, how did this happen?! Ugh… H-hey Paul, is there anywhere we can go to buy a change of clothes?” 

The minotaur thought for a moment and then shook his head. 

“No? What do you mean no? I can’t go around looking like this.” 

Paul glanced around the room, looked off to the side, and nodded his head upward. Matthew followed his gaze and saw he was looking at a minotaur who was wearing a covering around his waist but no shirt. Matthew scratched the back of his head. 

“Ohh… I dunno,” he said. “Do you really think I can pull that off? I’m not that strong… I don’t look as… cool as that guy.” 

Paul smiled at him, and gave him a thumbs up. He held the shoulders of Matthew’s shirt and slowly tore off his shirt, checking to see if the man would’ve resisted or protested. Matthew didn’t resist, and let Paul do his work, looking down at himself with uncertainty as he stood up. Paul then opened up the shirt and stretched it out so it appeared to be one long strip of fabric, and wrapped it around Matthew’s waist, tying it in the back. The man looked down at his new clothes with a smile. 

“Thanks…” he said with a sigh. He noticed his thoughts were slow, his head still felt fuzzy, and despite feeling a little more grounded, he still felt sleepy from all the food he just ate.  He shook his head, trying to wake himself up a little. 

“We should really go. We’re behind schedule. I think the queen would be waiting for us.”

The minotaur stood up, and placed his hand on Matthew’s shoulder again. From his sleepiness, Matthew felt even more comforted by this than he did the first time, reminding him of the times his father would guide him to bed as a child. 

It didn’t take too much longer before Matthew found himself in a wide open room, with a crowd of bullheaded spectators all looking toward the center. Matthew snuck through the crowd to find a wide dirt circle in the center of the stone floor. Three minotaurs stood inside the dirt circle, two on opposite edges, and one in the center. The minotaur in the center shook a red cloth, and the two minotaurs on either side charged at each other, locked horns, and pushed each other, grunting and snorting as they struggled. Eventually, one of the minotaurs slipped on the dirt, and fell onto his back, causing the crowd to erupt in roaring cheers. Matthew was fascinated by this sport. While it was aggressive and required immense strength, it didn’t appear deadly.

He lifted his head, and noticed one a lone minotaur who sat on a big stone podium above the circle. She wore a blue robe with gold trimmings and a garland on her head. 

That must be the queen!

Matthew felt a sense of accomplishment followed by a deep sinking feeling, as he realized that the queen was focused on these games, and there was no reasonable way to get her attention. So close, yet so far. 

There was a snort behind him, and a heavy hand on his back shoved him forward into the ring. He looked behind himself to find Paul giving him an encouraging smile. 

“Paul, no!” He whispered. Matthew turned around to find a tall burly beast on the opposite end of the circle from him. His eyes widened with horrors. Electrifying chills buzzed across his skin. His heart fluttered and found himself only able to breathe in quick gasps. No matter how much air he took in, it didn’t feel like enough. 

But before he could panic any more, the minotaur in the center began to wave the red cloth. His nose ring glowed and began to expand, but he didn’t notice. He furrowed his brow, irritated by this gesture, this red thing in his way, making it impossible to focus. Anger engulfed him, fire crackling in his stomach and prickling at his skin. He took a sharp inhale. His chest expanded. His shoulders broadened. His spine stretched. His entire form doubled in size, growing in both height and weight, returning to the stature he attained back in that pavilion. 

He clenched his fists, his fingers fusing together once more to form a three fingered hand. HIs temples twitched as the bumps reformed themselves, and burst through the surface of his skin, snaking upwards into sturdy long horns. The tip of his nose stretched upward, the sides pushing outward as his nostrils flared, the front of his nose and his mouth both turning black as they stretched far forward. Once his nose and mouth finished shifting into a snout, Matthew unconsciously accentuated this change with a snort. 

A layer of skin on his back grew baggy and loose, before it stretched like clay, thinning into a point. A tuft if brown fur grew on the very end of it, forming a tail that swished with anger. His feet tensed up, and the bridge of his foot cracked within his shoes, and folded in on itself, a sharp pain causing him to grunt. His toes retracted backward and fused just like his fingers, the movement making the leather on his shoes contort in strange ways. Both of his feet grew wider and bigger the leather tightening around them, until his shoes burst in half, revealing a pair of bull’s hooves. He stepped back with one hoof, kicking up dust, readying himself to charge. 

When the minotaur pulled the cloth away. Matthew roared. He charged forward in a blind rage. Slam! Their horns struck each other and locked together. Matthew and the minotaur grabbed each other’s arms. They snorted. Growled. Shoved one another. During this tussle, Matthew’s arms and chest rippled. The baggy, heavy tissue on his arms, legs, and stomach all tightened, fat contracting as muscle expanded, at first subtle, then dramatically toned. His abs, pecs, biceps, triceps, hamstrings, quads, calves all swelled, glistening with sweat. 

But all of this change still wasn’t enough, for the other minotaur pushed off the ground with one of his hooves, and knocked Matthew over, pinning him to the ground. Matthew glared into the eyes beast, rage roaring in his chest, the intent to kill at the forefront of his mind. But the beast’s expression softened, and the minotaur pushed himself upward to stand, the roaring of the crowd knocking Matthew out of his rage induced high. 

Before he could fully recall where he was or what he was doing, his transformation began to regress once more. His nose snout turned pale and retracted back, becoming a human nose and a mouth once more, but this time his nose was broader than before. His tail shrank and fused with the skin on his back, while his hooves softened, and stretched outward, splitting into five different toes on each foot, while his fingers split in a similar way. His muscles shrank, and his form grew shorter and thinner, however, not quite as short and thin as he began. And finally, his horns shrank, retracting back into his head, but didn’t completely disappear, leaving behind two pointy nubs on each temple. 

Matthew’s eyes widened, as he tried to recall the last minute. There was so much anger, and so many flashes horns, fists, and an angry minotaur’s face. There were loud grunts and roars… so much energy rushing through his veins. Matthew tried to piece it all together, but none of it fitted, and none of it made sense. Some other primal force had taken over, and this fight, this anger, this fear, this raw emotion… it felt incredible. 

“Did… I really just fight him?” Matthew muttered, still lying on the floor. 

A familiar face came into view, staring down at him with wide happy eyes. 

“You!” Matthew growled at Paul. He pushed himself up to stand and glared at the guard. Paul seemed a little bit shorter to Matthew, but the man brushed that thought to the side, latching onto his own anger. 

“What were you thinking pushing me in there?!” Matthew shouted. “I could’ve died!” 

Paul raised an eyebrow, the side of his snout drawing backward in a smirk. Matthew felt he could read the intention of this smirk, just given the context. 

But you didn’t die, did you? Paul must have been thinking. 

The man was about to yell at the minotaur some more when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye: the queen, and a couple of guards were walking away from this arena, heading down another corridor of the maze. 

“Oh no,” Matthew muttered. “We can’t lose her now, we just found her! C’mon!” The man trotted to the hallway, Paul following close behind, but by the time they entered the corridor, the queen seemed to have vanished. 

“Shoot… Paul do you know where they’re going?” 

Paul snorted and nodded. 

“Great… You lead the way, again.” 

As they wandered through the maze, the hallways grew harder and harder to navigate. Forks in the road grew more frequent, turns became sharper and sharper. At one point they walked in a circle and somehow ended up in a different hallway. They zig-zagged left then right then left then right, and each time he thought there was a pattern, they would turn in the opposite direction than he thought. All the twisting and turning felt like too much for his brain. Then… the nose ring began to glow once more, and the confusion grew tenfold. 

However, if confusion was the attempt and failure to comprehend an idea, then the confusion dissipated suddenly, for there was no longer an attempt. All that was there was an observation that he didn’t understand, and suddenly, he didn’t need to. He didn’t understand what it meant to understand. There were only patterns twisting and turning in his mind, ideas impossible for him to comprehend, and letting all of it swirl in his mind was dizzying, intoxicating… it tickled his mind and amused him. He found himself lost in the labyrinths, and accepted the unknown paths he went down, just turning… and turning… and turning… and turning… and-

“Moo!” 

Paul snapped Matthew back to reality once more. Matthew managed a sheepish smile, and began to take in his surroundings, but couldn’t fully come to, his mind still swirling from his trance moments prior. His eyes stung as bright white light reflected off the marble walls. In front of him were many different shiny accessories, what Matthew assumed to be items purely made for vanity.

“Paul?” Matthew mumbled, slurring his words. “This isn’t the qu-” 

He trailed off as Paul gestured to the objects in front of him, trapezoidal prisms made of various different metals on display in wooden cases, each of them tied to a fabric loop. Sluggishly, Matthew pointed to the one that looked like gold, for this shiny metal caught his eye. When Paul lifted it up, another piece of metal from within hit the side, creating a resonant bong! 

“Mmmm,” he muttered. The sound reverberated in his head, acting like a weight on his brain, making his thoughts static, making him feel similar to the way he felt wandering the maze moments earlier, but also… even though he was angry and energized back at the fight, it felt the same as that, too. It was the exact same mental state, except much, much, much slower. Same thoughtlessness, same lack of comprehension, same… brutishness.

Paul lifted the metal prism, this bell, and swung it back and forth. 

Bong! Da-dong! Da-dong! Da-dong! 

Matthew’s irises glowed gold once more, his pupils dilating as he followed the cowbell with his eyes. Every swing was like another turn in the labyrinth, like another bite of the food he had earlier, bringing him both deeper into confusion, and into calm. His thoughts blended together, slurring into nonsense, while his calm doubled with each swing, bringing him into a state of peace and bliss he couldn’t imagine before. 

Every toll of the bell was like a birdsong to his ears, the tone buzzing in his mind, soothing his brain, weighing on it, shrinking his thoughts so brutish sluggishness could reign. The ringing in his mind brought about a giddy joy, the kind one would get from singing a happy tune. This joy was so vibrant and so pure, that it was impossible to think of anything else, impossible to recall anything else. Why would he want to remember another time when this is the happiest moment he’s ever had? He let go of these memories, letting them slip deep into the recesses of his mind, allowing himself to remember nothing, to know nothing. 

After the cowbell rang for a while, his ears began to perk up. The pointy tips of his ears drooped, muscle growing all around his ears. Then, the tips of his ears stretched outward away from his head, while the sides of his ears curled inward, cupping the sound of the bell, and taking it in even more. Once his ears were done changing, they protruded outward. They were thick, rounded on the edges, pointed at the tip, and had the muscles to move however he wanted. He raised them up to listen to the bell, and then curled them back passively. 

The minotaur tapped Matthew’s nose ring and continued to swing the bell, causing the bell to ring and the ring to glow, filling Matthew’s ears with a sweet resonant tone, and his eyes with a warm golden glow. Matthew wanted to keep standing there and just take it all in, but a heavy wave of drowsiness took hold. His eyelids grew heavy and he fought to keep his eyes open, to stay awake, but eventually decided it would be safe to simply blink… to close his eyes for… just… one… moment…

When Matthew opened his eyes, he found himself kneeling on a black cushion, in a room decorated with black curtains with starry speckles. His nose ring was still glowing, his muscles all still felt heavy, but there was now an unfamiliar weight around his neck. In front of him stood a minotaur who wore a bright robe and a flower crown. 

The queen!

Paul stepped into view and passed the queen Matthew’s scroll. Matthew felt a brief bout of relief, feeling his job was complete, but his heart sank as the queen took one glance at the inside of the scroll and ripped it to shreds. Panic attempted to break through him, but his trance was still too deep. She looked at Matthew quizzically, and signed to Paul. To Matthew’s surprise, Matthew could now understand what she was saying. 

‘Him?’ she asked, ‘he’s the weakling who lost the fight.’

‘True,’ Paul signed back, ‘but the ring has changed him, and rings don’t make mistakes. He needs a full assimilation.’ 

Matthew’s stomach lurched. 

“W-wait,” he mumbled, slurring his words. “What do you mean as-“

The queen leaned forward and swiped her hand underneath Matthew’s chin. There was a loud ‘bong!’ making him realize what the weight around his neck was. The cowbell’s whirring hums and overtones weaved into the threads of his mind, making him feel calm, and quickly taking him back into a thoughtless state of deep calm. 

‘That’s it,’ she signed. ‘There’s no need to worry. I’m here to protect you, to care for you.’ 

Matthew blinked slowly. His heart slowed down but felt much lighter, feeling safe and cared for. His pupils dilating as his face showed an expression of genuine love. 

‘There’s no need to think, for I’m here to herd you. I know better than you… a bull-man.’

“B-bull man? But you’re the-“

She grabbed a hold of Matthew’s nose ring and began to tug it forward. Matthew’s nose began to stretch, growing bigger and bigger, the top of his nose becoming flat while the sides pushed outward, his mouth joining to meet his nose, beginning to form a snout. 

‘That’s what you are, right?’ the queen continued, singing with one hand. ‘you’re just a bull man, and what does a bull man say?’

She tugged the ring forward, the front of Matthew’s nose and mouth turning black, while his new snout stretched far forward. His two nub horns shot out from his skull, curving upward. His skull shrank and his eyes moved farther apart to make room for his snout. 

“Mroooor…” Matthew muttered. He felt good about himself after this, as if somehow he had accomplished something. He heard Paul snort in the background, but Matthew felt this was no laughing matter. This moment felt sacred, for it was his true expression of loyalty to the queen.

‘Very good! You’re a bull man, a simple, cattle brained beast. Mindless, loyal, docile toward me, but unforgiving toward your enemies.’

She pat him on the head, on the top of his snout, and rubbed the sides of his face as she told him this. Matthew shut his eyes and hummed his heart fluttering at these affectionate gestures. It brought about a familiar nostalgic feeling, although there was nothing he could associate this feeling with, for his memories were trapped deep within his mind. What he did know, however, was that the queen made him feel this way, and that he felt safe and felt loved when the queen did this. 

The skin on his back became loose once again, stretching out, and forming a hairy tail, this time wagging back and forth out of joy rather than anger. Little did he know that the queen’s gestures were adding fur to his snout, as many light brown hairs pricked up through his follicles, and grew out until all the skin on his face, his neck, and the back of his ears were covered in light brown fur, just like the hair on his head.

She placed a finger on the center of his chest. The bull man’s eyes widened and watered as a distant memory tried to surface in his mind. He knew this gesture. It was a sign that she loved him, that she would always be there for him, and that he could hold her in his heart… Or at least that’s what he thought the queen was doing, not noticing the way his muscles grew and his chest expanded. Seeing Matthew’s expression, however, the queen sympathetically gave him a gentle pat on the snout, to which Matthew shut his eyes briefly and hummed. 

‘One last thing… sit down for me.’ 

Matthew leaned back from his kneeling position, and sat so his feet were in front of him.  The queen grabbed each of his ankles, stretching his legs out. The hair on his legs grew thicker, extra layers of brown fur crawling down each of his legs up to his feet. She then took one foot at a time, squeezing each one, his flesh moving like clay, folding his foot inward, squeezing his toes together, and fashioning a groove in the middle. The flesh on each of his feet hardened and darkened to form cloven hooves. This time, unlike the first time, the change was painless. Naive as he was before, Matthew saw this gesture as a sign of love as well, as she was helping him get ready to walk. It was something humans always did as well. What was it called? “Tying someone’s shoes?” He wasn’t sure what it meant but he was pretty sure that someone doing this for someone else meant that they cared about them. 

Matthew looked down at himself, admiring his new form. He flexed his muscles, wagged his tail, stomped his hooves, and pat his snout with a three fingered hand. He mooed in delight, feeling at home in both his body and his environment. The cowbell rang with every little movement he made, but the effects of it weren’t as mind numbing anymore, instead bringing about calm alone. 

‘Take all the time you need to get acquainted,’ the queen signed. ‘Afterward, I want you to get armor on and serve on the guard… And you don’t need to act brainless if you don’t want to. That was just an exercise in trance.’ 

“Moooo!” Matthew replied, nodding curtly to the queen. It was fun replying with a long ‘moo.’ He wanted it to be his new catchphrase. 

While Matthew had so much he could’ve done, so much he wanted to do in that moment, there was one thing at the forefront of his mind. He turned to Paul, and signed: 

‘Do you wanna grab something else to eat?’

Paul snorted, patted him on the shoulder, and lead the way down the corridor. 

[bluegoblinzz]

Make a Manokit out of You

CW for physical touch and... *vaguely* suggestive moments. This is a commission for Miku Noki... Normally I have more to say here, but honestly I'm really tired! XD Enjoy! :D

******

Dakota wandered into the shop, feeling a little overwhelmed by all of the bottles, crystal balls, gemstones,  books, bottles of unknown liquids, and decor, but seeing all of it made him realize he was in the right place. Whoever ran this shop must have known what they were doing, and must have known real magic!! … That, or they were running a very convincing scam, but Dakota wasn’t one to judge right away. After glancing around the shop, he wandered up to the desk to find a small chubby goblin standing on the desk, talking on the phone. He had a round snub nose, long pointy ears, and bright blue skin. 

“A new friend?” he asked, “… well, sure I can meet him… no not now… because I’m at work… Yes yes, I get it, but right now my job just as important… look, I gotta go, a customer’s here.” 

The blue goblin swiftly jammed a clawed thumb over the “hang up” button on his phone, and then smiled at Dakota, his tusks pressing up against his upper lip. 

“Hello there! What can I do for ya?”

“Hi, I’m looking for a ‘Fib’ that runs this place?” Dakota asked. 

“You’re speaking to him!” Fib said, shutting his eyes and flashing his sharp teeth in a grin. 

“Oh hello!” Dakota chirped, grinning back and giving a wave. “But I thought Fib was a-“ 

“Boar? Well I normally am! It’s the form I’m more comfortable in! But I was born and raised as a goblin.” 

He’s a shapeshifter! Dakota thought, So that means he could help me change, too! 

“But for now, I’m just being a goblin, in my normal form, because my ma-… I mean, my… life coach said it would be better for me to just be myself for now.” 

“Well, they’re right!” Dakota said. “You’re cute in this form!” 

Fib’s face went slightly purple. Still smiling, he averted his gaze, and scratched his head. 

“Heheh, thanks, that’s nice of you,” he muttered. “Anyway, what can I do for you?” 

“Oh right… I was wondering if you could help me be myself, more.” 

“Sure thing!” The goblin hopped off his desk and wandered over to one shelf filled with gemstones, puling out a gem that was very similar to the color of his skin, if a little brighter in hue.

“Blue lace agate can really help you communicate, and can help you open up more-“

“No, silly!” Dakota giggled. “I mean… change into my true self! You know, like you are!” 

Fib’s ears perked up, his eyes widening with realization. 

He slowly opened his mouth before letting out a long, “ohhhh…” His face went slightly purple again. 

“Sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t think of that first. Come this way!”

The goblin dropped the agate back into the drawer of gems, and scurried over to the shelf on the opposite wall, which was filled with all sorts of mismatching bottles, all various shapes and sizes, and holding liquids each having different color and opacity.

“So all of these potions do different things… Love potion, luck potion, potion for sickness, potion of ‘dream about ducks-‘“

“-Wait, what was that last one?”

“-but all of these down here… these are the shapeshifting potions… That one’s for bears, beavers, tigers, sharks, wolves…”

“Hmmm… none of those sound right to me,” Dakota muttered. “Do you have anything else in the back?” 

“No…” Fib muttered, “No I don’t.” He paused for a moment, and then smiled at him.

“That just means we’ll have to make a new one just for you!” Fib chirped. He scurried back over to his desk, hopped on top of it again, gathering containers of herbs, and pulling out a miniature cauldron, which seemed to have enchanted green flames underneath it that somehow didn’t burn the desk. “Hmm… a pinch of this… a dash of that… add some mango for taste…” He filled the cauldron with water, and tossed all sorts of herbs and ingredients into the cauldron and the more he tossed in, the more the mixture inside glowed. 

“A couple more things… come over here, bud!” 

Dakota blinked, he had been so absorbed in this goblin’s craft that he didn’t realize he was just standing in the middle of the room staring. When he came over, Fib held out one of his blue hands toward him.

“Can I see your glasses for a sec?”

“Uh… sure!” Dakota said, not sure why he was asking. The goblin examined them and then smiled, tugging on something that seemed invisible, especially without his glasses.

“Ah-hah! I knew a bit of hair would have gotten stuck on the side of your glasses. Much easier than cutting your hair…” 

Fib handed Dakota his glasses back, kicked open a drawer in his desk and pulled out a swab, holding it out for Dakota to take. 

“This is a little gross but could you swab you cheek for me? I need some of your saliva, and-“ 

Dakota didn’t take the swab and instead spat directly into the cauldron. Fib stared at the mixture, dumfounded for a moment, and then shrugged. 

“I guess that works!” 

The goblin slowly stirred the mixture, and it began steaming more and more with every stir. Once it was finally done, he lifted the cauldron up, somehow not burning his hands when he did so, and poured some of it into a bottle. The mixture was opaque, viscous, and somehow a deep shade of blue, despite none of the ingredients being blue, to begin with. 

“There. This potion should give you a form that suits you perfectly. I don’t know what that looks like, but it should match up, due to your DNA being within it.” 

“Great!” Dakota cheered, taking the bottle. “So, do I just take it home and drink it now, or should I… take a little at a time? … how long does it take for the effects to happen-“ 

“Hang on hang on!” Fib said, frantically waving a hand. “Transformation is serious business! If you’ve never done it before, chances are you may get tired out, or maybe even get scared or… worst case scenario, you could hurt yourself!” He hopped off his desk and wandered into the back corner, before pushing on a door that previously blended in with the rest of the wall. 

“Come on into the back,” he said. “I have a place that’s calm and safe for you to change. I’ll make sure you’re relaxed and that nothing goes wrong.” 

The back room was a dark room with navy blue walls dim lights, and very little sunlight shining through the navy window shades, and there were puffy couches and a beanbag chair with a blanket in the middle of the room. Dakota settled on the beanbag chair and wrapped himself in the blanket. Fib sat down in a chair in the corner. 

“I’ll give you some space, but I’ll help you out when you need it…”

“So what do I do?” Dakota asked, “drink the whole thing?”

“Drink as much or as little as you want,” Fib answered. “The more you drink, though, the more fast and intense the changes may be.” 

Dakota looked at the blue potion in the bottle. For a second he didn’t want to drink it, just because of how nice of a color it was. But he was eager to try it out, so he took a swig. The mixture was much sweeter than he was expecting, and it tasted vaguely like a mango flavored milkshake. Enjoying the flavor, he tilted his head back and chugged much of it down, until only tiny droplets of potion left the bottle. He opened his eyes and stared wide eyed at the empty bottle. 

He didn’t have the chance to panic, however. Before he could say a word: his ears suddenly felt warm and puffy, like he was wearing a tight set of earmuffs. When he brought his hands up to his ears, he felt a big fluffy mass that curled inward and came to a point, growing longer and longer, becoming the size of wolf ears, then growing as big as rabbit ears, then growing even larger still. A smile crept up on his face as flames of euphoria began to spark within him. As he grinned, his teeth pressed together, interlocking as all of them became pointy.

This grin turned to a grimace as he felt his hands and feet twitch and cramp. He looked at his palms, and saw the skin on his palms growing darker and softer, as his twitching fingers became shorter and thicker, each of his pinkies and his ring fingers fused together. The hairs on his hands all stood up, becoming lighter in color, and growing longer and thicker, layers of light blue fur covering his hands, his nails growing dark and thick, sharpening into claws. His feet shifted in a similar way as the toecaps of each shoe burst open to reveal fluffy blue paws, the heel of each shoe bursting open as well as his heels grew farther and farther away from his paws, making his legs more digitigrade. 

All colors in his vision seemed to shift as he stared at his hands. He felt his pupils dilate and twitch a little. Unbeknownst to him, each of his pupils expanded but squeezed inward at four points to form a star shape. He looked around the room, a bewildered by the shift in color from his new eyes, an amazed laugh escaping him. 

Yet his amazement was once again interrupted. Warmth, tingling, and itchiness all spread across his skin. He hopped up out of his beanbag chair and tore his claws into his shirt, ripping it off to reveal light blue fur growing all over his torso, the fur being softer and brighter in color on his stomach. He could feel the fur growing up and down his arms and legs, a warm tingling sensation dancing across his skin. He looked down with shock and amazement, bringing a paw to his chest. Once he felt the soft fluffy pelt, his joy and his euphoria grew tenfold. It didn’t feel as if fur was covering him, but as if he had fur this whole time, and now finally free himself, and show his fur to the world. 

Dakota yelped and fell forward as an intense pressure emerged at the base of his spine, and in the center of his back as well, he landed on all fours and shut his eyes as pressure kept getting more and more intense, his heart rate rising and making him dizzy. 

“It’s okay it’s okay!” Fib chirped, jumping up from his chair and running over to his customer. “I’m here!” 

Dakota felt a small hand stroking his fur, which both soothed him, and also felt strangely affirming to him. His breathing slowed but this pressure only continued to grow more intense. Fib watched as a sharp cartilaginous bump emerged on Dakota’s back. It remained thin but grew taller and taller, becoming a pointy dorsal fin. At the same time, a small mass pushed outward near the base of his spine, at first appearing as a bump, then growing the length of his forearm, extending behind him. Dakota could feel both of these growing, the sensation unlike anything he’s felt. The awareness he had of his body expanded, and he could now sense what was happening with these new foreign limbs. 

Dakota’s tail stopped growing but the pressure only increased. He gritted his teeth, tears trickling from his eyes. 

“It… hurts…” he grunted. 

“It’s okay,” Fib repeated, “I know what to do.” 

Dakota felt two small hands wrap around his tail. There was a tug and the pressure instantaneously released. 

“Mmm..” He muttered his expression softening. 

As Fib continued pulling on Dakota’s tail, it kept growing with no resistance. A smile overtook Dakota’s face, his ears curling backward, as the pressure gave way to a satisfying stretch, his new tail muscles feeling soft and relaxed, his brain feeling warm and fuzzy from the immense relief he felt. His tail grew longer and stronger, bands of fur darkening to prominent ringed blue stripes, and finally two cartilaginous fins growing on the end of his tail, one covered in bright fur, the other in dark fur, before the stretch finally stopped. 

Dakota wagged his tail, feeling immense satisfaction as this new limb’s free effortless movements. His was dazed as his eyes were glazed over, as his jaw was loose, and his tongue, which was now long and pointed, lulled out of his mouth. 

His eyes focused as the blue goblin wandered in front of him, and the two locked eyes. Fib gave him an earnest smile. 

“You’re doing great, Noki,” he said. 

Noki, Dakota thought. He didn’t know why… but that name really felt close to him, and fit well with this new version of him. He decided to keep it. 

“That was a tough change,” Fib said. “But there’s one last shift you need.” 

Fib rubbed Noki’s face,  gently patting his forehead, scratching under his chin, and massaging his jaw, causing that same warmth and tingling to emerge in Noki’s face, where blue fur began to grow, and covered the last patches of bare skin he had left. He ran a hand through Noki’s hair, causing some of it to grow much longer, and lighter, into a dark green-ish blue patch, resembling a mohawk, while the rest of it retracted, growing much brighter to match the same color and length of the rest of his fur. 

Fib cupped Noki’s face in his blue hands, and pressed his thumbs against  his nose. His nose retracted, becoming a short bump on his face, conforming to Fib’s hands like clay. Noki closed his eyes, once again smiling with satisfaction. It wasn’t painful; it merely tickled. Then he drew his hands back, but his face didn’t leave his hands, as his jaw, and the bump of his nose both stretched forward. His grin widened, the same dazing ecstasy returning to his brain as tingles ran from his face, and down his spine. His face stretched farther and farther, effortlessly molding to Fib’s hands, his glasses falling off his ears and wobbling on top of his snout. His face looked less and less human, until two dark bands of fur accentuated the ending of this change, his human face gone, replaced by the slightly square snout of a manokit. 

Noki couldn’t tell if it was from overwhelming joy, or if it was from exhaustion, or if it was a mix of both, but once the changes were done, he collapsed, his glasses skidding across the wood floor, his arms spread out, his fluffy underbelly and his chin resting against the floor. He couldn’t get up. He didn’t want to get up, and just wanted to lie there, humming to himself, wagging his new tail back and forth. Once he mustered enough energy, he managed to curl up on the beanbag chair, like a dog curled up on its bed and shut his eyes. He felt a hand on his head, ruffling his fur. 

“Hey buddy,” Fib whispered. “You did great. Now, rest here for as long as you need to. I’ll make some hot cocoa for both of us. Does that sound good?” 

Noki hummed, a high pitched purr emerging from his throat, before he blepped his tongue out. Enjoying a nice cup of hot chocolate in his fluffy warm new form.. it sounded like heaven. 

“Great,” Fib said. “I’ll get that ready.” 

Noki laid on the beanbag for a while, flopping his tail and humming to himself. His thoughts mostly drifted off, his mind floating in space where he felt whole, in this state of pure ‘self,’ feeling like nothing else mattered, like he had nothing to worry about, for he finally felt like himself, and as long as he could live freely and act true to who he was, everything would be okay. 

[bluegoblinzz]

Lulling a Lion's Pride

So this is a story idea that felt very compelling to me a day or two ago... You may notice it's just a hypnosis story, and doesn't really involve any kind of TF. In addition: it got a little bit more emotional than I thought it would... I don't know how well this story will be received, I don't even know how big of an impact, or how little of an impact it has left on myself. I just know I'm glad I wrote it, and I hope you enjoy it too. ******* “My king,” the jackal said, kneeling in front of the throne, his tail and ears lowered in a subservient manner. Avu stood next to the king, staring straight ahead, but watching this jackal in his peripheral vision. He had his axe drawn, his face straight, seldom blinking, breathing slowly, not even a twitch of a whisker or an ear, making sure he appeared still as stone. 

“What business do you have here?” The king asked. His voice was quiet yet stern, his expression steady yet angered, as he looked down upon the jackal, the setting sun hanging behind him, the halo around the sun blending in with the king’s mane. 

“I’ve come to offer you my aid,” the jackal stated. Upon looking at the jackal, Avu knew where he had seen him before. He was a mage that performed on the streets. He often wore a hood and carried many gems with him. With his magic he summoned shadows, delved into dreams, danced with spirits… raised the dead. Because the jackal wasn’t harming anyone with his magic and with his performances, and merely dazzling crowds, he never paid him much mind, but as a guard to The Sun King, Avu knew that, at best, this jackal was an adversary and at worst he was the enemy. 

“We do not need your magic,” the king stated. “We already have plenty of well trained mages in our guild, all of whom are trained in more… savory magic.” 

“Respectfully, my king, I must disagree. I want to warn you that without a dark mage: your forces may be vulnerable.”

That response made Avu want to scoff but he remained still. Vulnerable, the jackal had said. Avu knew he wasn’t vulnerable, as he had trained for years to become a fighter, a soldier, and now a guard directly standing by to protect the king. He felt immense pride and joy for the honor of being one of the king’s guards. To be in the presence of such a great fighter, a great leader, a great lion in general, and to not be looked down upon, but rather, to be selected as one of the king’s most trusted fighters… it was an incredible feeling. It wasn’t so much that he was starstruck, as the old, beaten up lion had spoken to him many times in the past, and had been a very encouraging, kindhearted role model to Avu. It was more so that he meant something more to the king than just some other brazen boy wishing to fight for him.

The wise king, Avu’s role model, disagreed with Avu’s sentiment, however. 

“Vulnerable,” the king repeated, a curious smile overtaking his face. “How so?” 

The jackal lifted his head, a look of concern on his face as his ears remained tilted back. However, as he spoke, a glimmer of mischief sparked in his eye before disappearing again. Avu felt his stomach get tight. This wasn’t a trustworthy sign. 

“The magic of the sun and of the shadow have each grown separately from each other, where innovations in one do not account for innovations in another. I have no ill intent toward this kingdom or these lands, but a dark mage, more rotten than I, could overpower your mages and your fighters, if they don’t have the proper defense.” 

“Mmm…” the king grumbled shifting in his chair. He looked to Avu, then he looked to his other guard, Kahaz, and then smirked. 

“Demonstrate,” the king stated.  

The jackal went wide eyed, his tall ears sticking up and his maw wide open. The jackal’s expression exactly matched Avu’s feeling of surprise. 

“M-my king?” the Jackal asked. 

“Beside me are two of my greatest soldiers, so much so that I trust them as my guards. They are strong, courageous, sharp, and have unbreakable wills. If your spells can overpower each of them, then this is a threat worth considering.” 

Concern bubbled inside of Avu, but it was quelled by determination. Now was yet another chance to prove himself to the king, to show both his physical and mental fortitude, to show that he would not be overpowered and instead would stay vigilant and loyally carry out his duties for the king. Despite his expression remaining outwardly blank, and possibly even irritated, his pride grew within him. 

The Jackal stood up, looked back and forth between the two guards, offering a friendly smile at the two of them.

“Hello,” the jackal said with a wave. “I’m Arik. J-just know that: this is for the demonstration, I don’t want to attack you. Both of you seem really nice.” Kahaz’s eyes narrowed as he bared his fangs ever so slightly, his throat emitting a low rumble. 

“Go on,”  the king coaxed. “You wouldn’t make conversation with your enemies, now, would you?” 

Avu was ready to attack when necessary, but the guards never struck first, unless outwardly threatened. For the time being, he simply needed to stay alert and ready to fight, watching and listening to the enemy’s every move. Little did he know: the jackal wanted him to watch and to listen. 

Arik pulled out an amethyst orb, about three inches in diameter, and held it in both palms. He looked downward, staring into it for a moment and began muttering incantations under his breath. As he whispered, the orb appeared brighter in color and then began to emit a soft glow. The glow grew more and more intense, giving off a radiant purple light, but also sending rolling waves of shadow at the two guards. The manes of all three lions blew backwards, as if a gust of wind was being emitted from the orb. 

“Now,” the king grunted. Both guards snarled, and simultaneously raised their axes but the jackal put up a hand both guards stopped. Avu found that, while he could move, he couldn’t approach the jackal, or swing his axe. Kahaz roared, shifting himself as if trying to push past some invisible force, but then the jackal slowly lowered his hand, making Kahaz quiet down, his expression softening, and making both guards both lowered their axes against their will. The orb dimmed and stopped emitting the gust, but in its place the orb began to emit a pleasant warmth. 

“With this I can see your past, and I can see your future,” Arik stated. “I can dig deep into your heart and I can tell that you’re afraid. And I can tell that you carried this fear from your past, ever since you were a kitten.” Kahaz tried to snarl again, but faltered, his mouth twitching, and then his eye. Avu, on the other hand, stayed completely still. Arik’s words were true, as he felt something reaching into him, as if one was gingerly holding his heart, keeping it safe and providing it with nourishment, which made the fire of pride and bravery within dwindle. He wouldn’t need to be brave if he would be taken care of…

“You want to be safe,” Arik continued. “You want to feel secure. You want to feel loved again. So let us tie the past and the present together. Take off that mask and become what you always were.” 

Kahaz’s axe fell to the floor with a deafening clatter. His eyes narrowed and his nose wrinkled as if he was about to sneeze. His whole upper body tensed up and his arms shaking as he slowly raised hands up near his chest, straining as if he was trying to use all of his strength not to. Arik slowly made his way over to the lion, wearing a friendly smile. 

“How tense,” Arik said. “There’s no need to be that way. You want to become what you’re meant to be. Give in.” Arik’s smile contorted with mischief with those last words. 

The sides of the lion guard’s mouth curved upward as he opened his mouth wider and stuck out his tongue, bringing the back of his hand to his face. Kahaz’s ears lowered and his eyes rolled back in his head, before they fell closed. He slowly licked the back of his hand, grooming his fur, before bringing up the other hand to his face and doing the same. Arik gently touched the side of the lion guard’s face and he let out a loud purr, nuzzling up to the dark mage’s hand. 

“Good kitty,” Arik whispered. 

Kahaz meowed in response, pawing the air. The big lion used the upper register of his gravely voice, making himself sound small and helpless. Arik waved his hand downward, and Kahaz knelt down, getting on his hands and knees, and stretching his back out like a cat. 

Avu was shocked at how quickly and how easily his fellow guard gave in. He always thought of Kahaz as the stronger one, the tougher one, but apparently he had less mental fortitude than Avu did. He couldn’t completely downplay his fellow guard’s efforts, however, as he felt the spell constantly eating away at him. The spell restricted his movements, keeping him standing still. His mind felt softer and fuzzier, his thoughts changing from determined aggressive and strong, and turning passive meek and small. To be a kitten, to let go… it sounded so much easier on both his mind and his heart. 

No, he told himself, Giving in isn’t an option! I must stay alert,  I must keep standing guard, for the king!

The jackal looked from Kahaz over at Avu, and smiled. He walked right in front of Avu, reached up his hand and began scratching him under his chin. Avu’s mouth twitched as he fought off a smile, his eyes falling closed. 

“You’re very strong,” Arik whispered. “You’re doing such a good job. I’m so proud of you.” Avu opened his eyes wide and stared at Arik. His mouth twitched some more and his eyes began to water. A deep rumble came from his throat. He felt two different contradictory sensations at once. One sensation was a burning joy he felt in his stomach, one that made him want to shout, dance, celebrate. The other was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest.  Avu was refraining from speaking that whole time, as he was not told he could do so. He didn’t want the jackal to break him, but he didn’t care, he was already broken at that point. 

“You’re trying to humiliate me,” Avu whispered, “you’re trying to take away my honor.” 

“Humiliate you?” Arik asked. The lion narrowed his eyes

“I’m a guard selected by the king. I am not your kitten,” Avu hissed. 

The jackal hushed the lion, putting a finger up to Avu’s mouth. Avu’s anger and sadness faded to the background, chills running down his spine. Then, he rubbed the fur on the lion’s nose with his finger making Avu’s eye fall closed yet again. 

“In the darkness no other lights can blind you,” Arik said. “So your truth shines through. Do you see it now?” In his mind’s eye, Avu saw himself. His square jaw, his snub muzzle, and his tired, angered eyes, with slit pupils and sapphire blue irises. He stared at the image of himself for a while and wondered if he liked what he was seeing. The vacancy in his own eyes captured his attention, made him unable to look away. His chest felt tighter, the lump in his throat returned, his pulse quickened… 

Why do I feel this way? He wondered, why am I afraid of my own reflection? 

As Avu continued to stare at this dreamlike specter of himself in his mind’s eye, he watched as it grew younger and younger, his mane becoming shorter, his face becoming rounder, and his eyes becoming bigger, more filled with hope and with joy. He saw his father beside him, his arm around his shoulder and he was able to see the two of them smile.

The image shifted. Now he and his father were sparring, his father giving him pointers, correcting his technique with an axe, putting up a good fight, but occasionally leaving weak points open on purpose, allowing young Avu to win. Then another memory came into view, and Avu saw as he and his father chatted and laughed with each other, both of them drinking a warm cup of chai from a pot. When the conversation came to a lull, his father scratched him under the chin, to which the boy smiled and purred. In another memory he saw himself spar with another young lion in front of a group of soldiers, knocking the other kitten to the floor. Young Avu snarled and growled at his opponent, daring them to get up. Upon seeing the boy’s success, the soldiers took Avu away, gave him a badge and began fitting him for armor. The boy looked back at his father, to find him frowning, holding back tears, but as soon as the two of them made eye contact: his father faked a smile.

The image shifted one last time, and Avu saw his younger self staring up at him once more, his eyes shining, but as Avu began grow older and older, they grew dimmer and dimmer, going from the color of the warm tropical sea, to an icy blue. Cold. Vacant. Defeated. 

When the visualization dissolved, and Avu was left alone with his own thoughts, he let out a deep growl, tears streaming down his face. Arik was right. He was still a kitten, and he was still afraid… but more importantly, he was alone. 

The jackal caressed the side of Avu’s head, and the lion purred, nuzzling up to the jackal’s hand, a smile finally overtaking his face. The jackal began lowering his hand, but Avu kept nuzzling up to it, getting down on his knees so he could stay with Arik. With Arik’s gentle touch, he felt loved for the first time in a while, that cold lonely look that he saw in his own eyes and felt within his heart began to dissolve. Avu began to feel smaller and smaller, feeing more and more love for Arik, and he allowed himself to feel this way, to allow himself to be like a kitten. The jackal could protect him, feed him, take care of him, so he wanted to become what he used to be back when his father was there. 

Once the jackal stopped petting him, the lion stared up at him with his big blue eyes, and let out a high pitched meow, putting his hands together in a begging pose. He stuck out his tongue in a “blepping” expression and allowed all of his coherent thoughts to dissolve and fade into the background, his intentions shifting away from protecting the king, and toward being comforted by this kind jackal. The more he felt like a real kitten the safer he felt. The fewer thoughts he had, the happier he felt. 

Arik pet Avu one more time, before he snapped his fingers, two bowls materializing at his feet in a flash of purple light, one full of dried meats, the other full of milk. Kahaz padded over to the food bowl, on all fours and began eating out of it without his hands, while Avu bend down and began lapping up the milk from the bowl. While the two former-guards were distracted, the Jackal knelt down and strapped collars around each of their necks, first Kahaz then Avu. Then he stood and looked to the king, who did not appear disturbed or angry, but rather amused. 

“An ill intentioned mage would have done more to manipulate them,” Arik stated. “They would have used a stronger spell, and used fear or arousal to play with their minds. I chose to use truth.” 

“And do you have anything to combat these types of spells?” The king inquired. “Or did you just turn my guards into pathetic kittens for fun?” 

“There are ways,” Arik said, nodding. “In general, your forces will be more equipped in dealing with dark magic if they are familiar with it. But more specifically: there are some shield spells I can offer to prevent this from happening to everyone.” 

“I’ll have you show this to my mages first thing tomorrow morning,” the king stated. “An aid will escort you to the guest room for now.” 

“Thank you, my king,” Arik said, bowing one last time before turning away from the king. He began to walk away from the throne, but then he felt heavy paws on his back, followed by a high pitched meow. 

He turned around to find the guard Avu looking up at him with big watery eyes, his tail swishing back and forth.

“Oh no,” Arik said. “You can’t come with me right now. You need to stand guard!” 

The king chuckled to himself shaking his head. 

“You may take your new kitten with you. He looks like he could use a break, anyway.” 

[bluegoblinzz]

"Hey, would you like a potion in these trying times?"

...

"Hmm? oh right! I wasn't in the mood to shapeshift, so I decided to come to work like this! It's pretty refreshing!"

Thank you to @neo-kajatrash for drawing me in my true gobbo form!