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if i look back, i am lost
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I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
d e v o n

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
Show & Tell

shark vs the universe
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DEAR READER

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dirt enthusiast
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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Stranger Things

Kaledo Art
Mike Driver
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Today's Document

oozey mess
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@tfanatic
Leviâs Zangiefication
Full fur
What do you think, if he starts having good manners right away will he turn back? Or is every temptation going to wear him down, causing him to become more and more a pig until humanity is only a dim memory?
sbear89
Rainy days ahead!
The change had taken hold before he realized it. His arm stretched longer, sinew tightening beneath skin that rippled like a living shadow. Coarse hair spread up from his wrist, thickening until his forearm looked swallowed in dark fur. His fingers ached, bones cracking and reforming as nails sharpened into curved, predatory claws. A guttural breath escaped himâhalf gasp, half growlâas he stared at the monstrous limb that had once been his own. The roomâs faint light caught the sheen of his new claws, and for a moment, the instinct to fear was overtaken by something deeper: the pulse of raw, feral power thrumming in his veins.
At first, the changes terrified him. Each morning seemed to bring a new discovery: a patch of thick bristles spreading across his shoulders, coarse strands crawling down his arms, the steady march of hair overtaking skin he had once known bare. His reflection in the mirror felt foreign, almost feral, and he couldnât help but flinch when he caught the wary looks of strangers on the street.
But as the days passed, something inside him shifted. The itch of denial softened into a strange comfort. The warmth of his own body hair became a shield against the chill of self-doubt. The man who once tugged at sleeves to cover himself now found an odd pride in rolling them up. He stopped treating the growth as a curse and started to see it as a part of himâwild, undeniable, and oddly liberating.
It wasnât easy. There were still stares, still moments when he longed to return to how things were. Yet over time, acceptance settled in like an old friend. He carried himself differentlyâshoulders back, chin lifted. When he looked over his shoulder now, it wasnât with fear but with resolve. The rapid hair growth hadnât just changed his bodyâit had forced him to grow into someone stronger, someone unapologetically himself.
Ian had always felt a strange pull to the ocean, especially to the quiet, hidden coves far from the crowds. That morning, as the sun cast its golden glow over the turquoise water, Ian arrived at his favorite secluded cove, tucked between towering cliffs draped in green. The air was thick with salt, and the rhythmic hush of waves on sand was music to his soul.
With his snorkel gear in hand, he waded into the warm shallows, eager to explore the coral garden below. The water was calm and crystal-clear, revealing an underwater world alive with colorâswaying anemones, curious reef fish, and brain corals like ancient stone carvings. Ian drifted effortlessly, letting the current carry him from one reef patch to the next. Then he saw it.
Tucked into a cradle of coral, half-buried in sand, was something that glinted in a way no rock or shell could. Intrigued, Ian dove down and carefully pulled it free. It was a pendant, unlike any heâd seen beforeâcrafted from copper wire twisted in intricate patterns around two stones. One shimmered like emerald flame, the other swirled with oceanic hues: deep teal, kelp green, and streaks of shell pink. It felt warm in his hand, pulsing faintly.
Without hesitation, Ian slipped it over his head. For a moment, nothing happened. He floated back to the surface and stared at the cliffs ahead, puzzled by how natural the act had felt, like it had been waiting for him all along.
After a while, he returned to shore, stretched out on his towel, and let the sun bake the salt from his skin. The gentle lull of the waves lulled him into a peaceful nap.
Thatâs when the dreams beganâstrange, vivid dreams of swimming faster than any fish, of breathing underwater, of coral reefs alive with song and light. He dreamt of a distant voice whispering from the sea floor, of ancient magic bound to stone and copper.
When Ian awoke, the sun had shifted, and something felt... different. His fingers twitched. His feet tingled. He sat up slowly, blinking against the glare, and gasped.
"What the hell?"
His hands had changed. Webbing now stretched between his fingers, glistening and smooth, with a translucent golden tint. His legs itched with a strange energy. He looked down to see fins sprouting from the sides of his calves, and his feetâhis feet were now splayed and webbed like those of a sea creature, designed for propulsion, not walking.
Panicked yet oddly calm, Ian stumbled toward the water, driven by instinct. The pendant throbbed against his chest like a second heartbeat. He plunged into the seaâand everything made sense.
His body moved with grace, every motion smooth and strong. He didnât need to kick hard; a flick of his feet sent him gliding. The coral world that had once required effort to explore now welcomed him as one of its own. Fish swam close without fear. He dove deeper than ever before without running out of air, realizing he could breathe through new gill slits along his neck.
Joy bubbled up inside him.
He swam for hours, weaving through arches of coral, chasing sunlight that filtered through the surface above. He was free. Transformed. Reborn.
When he finally returned to the shore, the pendant still glowing faintly at his chest, Ian knew he could never go back to his old life. The cove wasnât just a place of peace anymoreâit was his home, his beginning, and now, his future.
And somewhere in the coral, the sea whispered of others like himâthose who had once found the pendant and chosen the ocean.