#also he has the tapetum lucidum in my heart!!

[blairaptor]

some Crosshairs 🎯

[mustangs-flames]

OHH MY GOD😭😭 Cat-like mimic!Cesar would actually make my heart MELT that’d be so CUTE❤️❤️❤️

Here's some traits he has! Some of them are just passive things that are always present, others are triggered by instinct:

His pupils are more slit-like in shape and react the same way a cat's does to darkness and light. He also has tapetum lucidum, so his eyes reflect back light in the dark.

When happy/content, or when he feels safe, he 'purrs'. It's more like a soft humming and it sounds like static/white noise at the end of a played tape.

When startled/scared enough, his hair actually fluffs up slightly to instinctively try and make himself look bigger.

He's quite fond of lying in patches of sun around the house - it reminds him of Mark's warmth.

He can 'hiss', but it sounds like a high pitched screech of static.

He's very light on his feet and can move about unheard if he wants to.

Mimics are highly territorial and when confronting another of their kind, there is an element of 'flaunting' to try and intimidate the other into leaving. If that fails then it very much turns incredibly aggressive incredibly fast.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Golden Pince-Nez pt 3

Last time I came to the decision - entirely logically and data-driven and not at all because he made an incredibly rude comment about one of his servants - that The Professor was a hack, his life's work is founded on a lie and he either commited or is complicit in the murder of Willoughby Smith.

I also came to the conclusion that he smokes too many cigarettes. (1000 a fortnight, you know over a year that's 26,000? And he's getting them imported from Alexandria? Guy has a problem.)

Stanley Hopkins had gone down to the village to look into some rumours of a strange woman who had been seen by some children on the Chatham Road the previous morning.

Was she stumbling around blindly, because I feel like with the prescription Holmes described, she's going to find it very difficult to get around on her own without her glasses.

I had never known him handle a case in such a half-hearted fashion.

Let's play: Is Sherlock bored, or does he dislike the conclusion to this story?

Even the news brought back by Hopkins that he had found the children and that they had undoubtedly seen a woman exactly corresponding with Holmes's description, and wearing either spectacles or eye-glasses, failed to rouse any sign of keen interest.

So she definitely exists and has been in the area. But Holmes doesn't seem to care about that, possibly because he already knows it must be the case and therefore this is of little concern.

He was more attentive when Susan, who waited upon us at lunch, volunteered the information that she believed Mr. Smith had been out for a walk yesterday morning, and that he had only returned half an hour before the tragedy occurred.

Man goes for walk. Vitally important information. It means that things may have occurred in the house without his knowledge, or that he might have been involved in something on his walk without anyone else's knowledge, such as meeting up with our lady with bad eyesight.

He was, indeed, a weird figure as he turned his white mane and his glowing eyes towards us.

Why are his eyes glowing? Eyes are not supposed to glow, Watson. Does he have tapetum lucidum? Is he a werewolf? Is he a demon? Has he finally smoked enough cigarettes that he has merged with the cigarette and now he is literally smoking?

Holmes stretched out his hand at the same moment, and between them they tipped the box over the edge.

Second recorded incident of Holmes knocking things off tables like a cat.

I don't know what the cigarettes have to do with all this. I feel like it's going to be obvious. The only idea I can have is that he's part of some sort of artefact smuggling ring and every two weeks he gets a massive batch of 1000 cigarettes but hidden in the package are antiques. But why would that affect his appetite? And clearly he is getting all 1000 cigarettes because he's smoking all day and night. And why would that require Holmes to smoke like fifty in a go before?

So there must be something in the cigarettes? Are the rolling papers money? Are the rolling papers ancient documents? But then he smokes them, so that makes no sense either.

“Yes,” said he, “I have solved it.” Stanley Hopkins and I stared in amazement. Something like a sneer quivered over the gaunt features of the old Professor. “Indeed! In the garden?” “No, here.” “Here! When?” “This instant.”

You solved it by knocking some cigarettes off the table?

^Holmes and the Professor, probably

I mean, obviously he has connected the dots, he's Sherlock Holmes and he is controlled by the almighty god-writer of his universe who's feeding him all the lines. But still. What can you work out from knocking cigarettes off a table? Did they fall wrong? Or was there something on the bottom of the box?

“A lady yesterday entered your study. She came with the intention of possessing herself of certain documents which were in your bureau. She had a key of her own."

So far, so not what I thought... this is not in keeping with my thoughts that the Professor dunnit.

UNLESS she was looking for evidence that he was a fraud and had previously talked to Willoughby about it, then when he refused to help her - loyal to his employer as he was - she took matters into her own hands.

Her possession of the key intimates that she has at one time had access to this desk. She's one of the previous secretaries that was let go for creative differences. Creative differences that were The Professor being a fraud, obviously (I refuse to believe this man has any academic ethics).

SO using the key that she kept after the termination of her old employment, she snuck in using her knowledge of the household and its schedule. The Professor came upon her and killed her, but knocked her pince-nez off and under the desk as he did so. No clue what he did with the body... put it in a crate of cigarettes?

THEN Willoughby comes back and asks if she came to see the professor, enquires about the allegations she made. The Professor says 'Oh no, dear boy. She hasn't been to see me, and she was a vary fanciful girl. You know what women are like.' Because he's a terrible person.

Then Willoughby finds the pince-nez, recognises them from his previous meeting with the lady and just as he's putting it all together STAB in the neck from the professor, but this time there isn't time to hide the body, the maid, Susan, is already there. the Professor hotfoots it away and leaves Willoughby there, forgetting all about the pince-nez still clutched in his rapidly cooling hand.

There are still some holes, and the cigarettes still make no sense and we have no body, so habeas corpus isn't exactly satisfied. We habeas pince-nez instead.

I could just read the story and find out, I guess.

I really want the professor to be a fraud. I want him to be totally discredited and disgraced. I want it so bad, you guys.

The Professor blew a cloud from his lips. “This is most interesting and instructive,” said he. “Have you no more to add? Surely, having traced this lady so far, you can also say what has become of her.”

This might seem like he genuinely doesn't know what's going on, because he doesn't seem worried. Or, per my hypothesis, he's just an arrogant bastard who's convinced he's smarter than anyone else in the room.

“I will endeavour to do so. In the first place she was seized by your secretary, and stabbed him in order to escape. This catastrophe I am inclined to regard as an unhappy accident, for I am convinced that the lady had no intention of inflicting so grievous an injury."

Really? Random lady we don't know did it? That would be very unsatisfying. 'Guy dies in room holding glasses belonging to the person who killed him' isn't a very intriguing murder mystery.

"She ran down a corridor, which she imagined to be that by which she had come—both were lined with cocoanut matting—and it was only when it was too late that she understood that she had taken the wrong passage and that her retreat was cut off behind her. What was she to do? She could not go back. She could not remain where she was. She must go on. She went on. She mounted a stair, pushed open a door, and found herself in your room.”

Ah, that's why the shortsightedness is relevant. Should have guessed that was connected.

This is where the Professor kills her and stuffs her under his bed right, then smokes a million cigarettes to cover up the smell of her rotting corpse?

(I'm grasping at straws, let me be)

“And you mean to say that I could lie upon that bed and not be aware that a woman had entered my room?” “I never said so. You were aware of it. You spoke with her. You recognised her. You aided her to escape.”

OK, that was like my... second theory last time? He's complicit in aiding the murderer.

Again the Professor burst into high-keyed laughter. He had risen to his feet and his eyes glowed like embers.

Demon professor

Y'know, if he went into higher education and got tenure.

God that show freaked me out as a kid. Could not watch it.

“She is there,” said Holmes, and he pointed to a high bookcase in the corner of the room.

OK, I know I suggested he was feeding her and that was why he was eating so much last time, but she's really been hiding in his room this whole time? Behind the bookcase? I guess she can come out when no one else is there, but she's just been living behind the bookcase this entire time?

...at the best she could never have been handsome, for she had the exact physical characteristics which Holmes had divined, with, in addition, a long and obstinate chin. [...] And yet, in spite of all these disadvantages, there was a certain nobility in the woman's bearing, a gallantry in the defiant chin and in the upraised head, which compelled something of respect and admiration.

Watson: She was ugly, but for some reason I still respected her. It was a very confusing situation for me. This has never happened before.

It's okay, Watson. We all know you're a shallow bitch sometimes and we love you for it.

“Madam,” said Holmes, “I am sure that it is the truth. I fear that you are far from well.”

Yeah, because she's been stuck in this room with the chain-smoker for over twenty four hours and he hasn't cracked a window. Honestly impressed she hasn't suffocated.

“I have only a little time here,” she said, “but I would have you to know the whole truth. I am this man's wife. He is not an Englishman. He is a Russian. His name I will not tell.”

Secret Russian! Did not see that coming. I'd ask if that's why the imported cigarettes, but he was getting them from Alexandria, wasn't he? Although there's probably an Alexandria in Russia, there were like fifty gazillion Alexandrias. Every time Alexander the Great stopped somewhere for the night, he called it Alexandria. Now there was a guy who like the sound of his own name too much.

For the first time the old man stirred. “God bless you, Anna!” he cried. “God bless you!” She cast a look of the deepest disdain in his direction. “Why should you cling so hard to that wretched life of yours, Sergius?”

You just said you weren't going to tell them his name? I get that's not his full name, but still...

Also, this does not seem like a happy marriage. Not least because no one seemed to know he had a wife and he was hiding her behind the bookcase. Not traditionally a good place to keep one's spouse. Although I suppose it is more original than the attic. Professor Coram/Sergius beats Mr Rochester on that point, I suppose.

“I have said, gentlemen, that I am this man's wife. He was fifty and I a foolish girl of twenty when we married. It was in a city of Russia, a University—I will not name the place.”

Thirty years is quite a big age gap... I feel like even at the time it would have been larger than average. Also, is she trying to hide things or could ACD just not be bothered to come up with a Russian sounding name?

“We were reformers—revolutionists—Nihilists, you understand. He and I and many more. Then there came a time of trouble, a police officer was killed, many were arrested, evidence was wanted, and in order to save his own life and to earn a great reward my husband betrayed his own wife and his companions."

Firstly, I have now decided that this story is the sequel to Oscar Wilde's play Vera; or The Nihilists. Also, he's a Snitch. I knew I didn't like him. We all know what snitches get...

“Among our comrades of the Order there was one who was the friend of my heart. He was noble, unselfish, loving—all that my husband was not. He hated violence. We were all guilty—if that is guilt—but he was not. He wrote for ever dissuading us from such a course. These letters would have saved him. So would my diary, in which from day to day I had entered both my feelings towards him and the view which each of us had taken."

So, she was maybe kind of cheating on him? Honestly, they both seem a little terrible. although they might have just been good friends. It's a little ambiguous.

Also, the name of the love interest in Vera; or The Nihilists is Alexis, so... like... Is this deliberate? Admittedly that's not his real name... sort of... but still.

“I must finish,” she said. “When my term was over I set myself to get the diary and letters which, if sent to the Russian Government, would procure my friend's release."

But would they though? Would they? Maybe I'm cynical, but are they really going to let one guy go from the gulag just because you sent some letters purporting to be from him saying 'no, we have to be nice little nihilists and not kill people'? You're placing a lot of trust in a government you literally were attempting to undermine and overthrow because you believed it was corrupt.

I'm just saying.

"With this object I engaged an agent from a private detective firm, who entered my husband's house as secretary—it was your second secretary, Sergius, the one who left you so hurriedly. He found that papers were kept in the cupboard, and he got an impression of the key."

So, I was right, one of the secretaries was involved!

Winning!

Also losing, but if you cut up all my theories and put them together you can sort of Frankenstein the right answer.

Still no explanation for the cigarettes, though.

She tore from the bosom of her dress a small packet.

I assume that this did not involve tearing her actual dress and she's not just standing there, tits out, from here onwards. I have to assume that, although the wording is very dramatic, I feel like that would be mentioned.

“Too late!” she said, sinking back on the bed. “Too late! I took the poison before I left my hiding-place. My head swims! I am going! I charge you, sir, to remember the packet.”

...

Anna, what have you done?

I have saved Alexis.

(There may possibly be 1 person who understands this... if that's you, hi! Thanks for existing.)

AND THEN, after she dramatically dies right in front of them from self-inflicted poisoning, there's a hardcut to them chatting on the way home.

"When you asked me to believe that she walked along a narrow strip of grass without once making a false step I remarked, as you may remember, that it was a noteworthy performance."

That does explain the grass, but not the cigarettes. Did you use the smoke to find the hidden room by looking where it blew?

"I therefore smoked a great number of those excellent cigarettes, and I dropped the ash all over the space in front of the suspected bookcase."

I feel like you didn't need quite that many cigarettes to do this. But also, dropping ash all over someone else's carpet is really rude. I know the Professor's a dick, but it's not like he's the one cleaning up after you. You just gave that poor housekeeper a horrible job and I bet she doesn't have a vacuum cleaner, and even if she does it's a manual one that requires pumping or something like that.

"...by upsetting the cigarette-box, I obtained a very excellent view of the floor..."

You definitely did not need to knock the cigarettes off the table to get a good look at the floor, Holmes. You have on several occasions in the past literally just fallen face first onto the floor to examine it without bothering to say a word. You knocked those cigarettes onto the floor because you wanted to.

"Well, Hopkins, here we are at Charing Cross, and I congratulate you on having brought your case to a successful conclusion."

Not sure how successful it is to turn up with an extra body rather than a prisoner, but I guess the killer found justice??

Not exactly what I'd class as success. But ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I guess.

Good for you, Hopkins!

"I think, Watson, you and I will drive together to the Russian Embassy.”

And Alexis was freed from the gulag, Professor Coram/Sergius died from complications due to smoking and his work was never complete, and everyone else lived happily ever after. Apart from the dead people, who were still dead.

Never would have guessed betrayed Russian nihilist wife trying to free her lover from the salt mines. But really, in hindsight it's so obvious 🤣

And the next one takes place in a famous university town. Is it Oxford or is it Cambridge, that's the question.

[vrusk]

ewan mcgregor. 51. cis man. he/him. ┊┊ cerberus corp has been watching VIRGIL RUSK.  some of the public has dubbed them BESPOKE because of ADAPTIVE MONSTROUS PHYSIOLOGY/REGENERATION gifted by AN EXTRA ORDINARY INCIDENT THAT FUCKED UP AN ORDINARY DAY. having been an extra ordinary since 2021, they’re doing a good job at hiding A LACK OF CONTROL, SENSORY SENSITIVITIES, DEPENDENCE ON CERBERUS CORP R&D, and THE RISK OF COLLATERAL DAMAGE. when they aren’t working their day job as a DESIGNER, they are fond of PAINTING and are never seen without HIS SUNGLASSES; his eyes are where his mutation shows first. at first glance they seem PASSIONATE & CREATIVE, though their close friends know them to also be CRITICAL & VOLATILE.  they consider themself a CIVILIAN. ┊┊ gray. they. 32. pst. none.

001.  GENERAL

name  Virgil Rusk 

nicknames  If you know, you know. If you don’t, safely presume you’re not allowed to invent your own. 

age  51

date of birth  may 22, 1972

zodiac  gemini

place of birth  Fort Worth, Texas 

current residence  New York City, though he has properties elsewhere, including a small ranch back home in Texas and and what he considers a tasteful, old-fashioned yacht. 

gender  cis man

pronouns  he

sexuality  homosexual

occupation  Designer, publicly. Secretly, a “contractor” for Cerberus Corp, developing agent costumes to suit individual powers. 

faceclaim  Ewan McGregor

height  5’10”

tattoos  Jesus - take a man to dinner before you dig up all his youthful indiscretions, why don’t you? 

piercings  Ears, though he doesn’t wear anything in them so much as he once did.

distinguishing features  Preference for sunglasses, even indoors, especially at night. If you’ve gotten a too-close look at his eyes at the right moment, you might have caught a peculiar red-gold gleam in the back of his pupils - a tapetum lucidum, like an animal. This is only visible in dim to dark spaces with some source(s) of light, which the tapetum reflects. 

positive traits  Creative. Passionate. Generous. Energetic. Attentive to detail. Charismatic. Kinder than he pretends to be and warmer than that sleek, sharp-edged surface suggests. 

negative traits  Critical. Volatile. Perfectionistic. A workaholic. Contrary. Weaponized bluntness. More bitter than he wishes he was and more insecure than he’s been in decades.  

labels / tropes  Power at a Price, The Mind is a Plaything of the Body, Does Not Know His Own Strength, Not Quite Back to Normal, Stepford Smiler, Gone Horribly Wrong, Control Freak, Death Glare, In With the In Crowd, Married to the Job, Not in My Contract, Big Fancy House, Brutal Honesty, Genre Savvy, Insufferable Genius, Jerk With a Heart of Gold  

likes  Making things, just the wonder of turning an idea tangible. Lately, excuses for avoiding social functions. Skyscraper and mountainside views. People-watching. Art, especially very textural pieces. 

dislikes  Failing. Delegating. Repeating himself. Fucking meditation. Animals (they tend to react oddly to him, these days). Most of the noises your average cellphone makes. Those tacky scents everyone wears too damn much of. Bright lights, the loud kind. Pressure - which he used to love, or claimed to, anyway. 

fears  Losing control (in any sense). Loneliness. Change. Being stuck. (See, contrary.) Small spaces, including crowds and corners. 

hobbies  Painting. Sculpture. Reading. Photography. Mountaineering - no, really. Swimming. Sailing. Motorcycle tours, when he has the time, which is never lately. 

habits  Smoking. Scotch. Worse things, before his “heart attack.” Hand-talking, moreso in rare casual moments. Drawing while other people talk. 

002.  EXTRA ORDINARY

near death experience… 

He doesn’t want to talk about the why, okay? (Stress. Spiraling thoughts. A bad day. That’s all. That’s it. And some ill-timed cocaine, maybe, sure.) Okay. But the what, well. Virgil's near-death event was a heart attack, a very normal way for a fast-living, never-off perfectionist with bad habits to go. Only, he didn’t. His mutation erupted, saving his life… and ending a few dozen others before Cerberus agents were able to subdue the frantic, destructive creature he’d become. This was a shitty first impression for everyone involved - including his monster, which, as the R&D team at Cerberus can attest, always manifests in a state of extremely dangerous distress. It tends to head directly for the nearest way out, and will throw itself at just about anything - or anyone - that gets in the way. Just hope that’s never you.

power… 

Virgil can’t really use his abilities; he’s trying to avoid that at all, and it seems Cerberus agrees this is for the best. Any substantial stress or injury can kick off a pretty gruesome transformation into, well - something that’s not him. This mutated form will continue to mutate the longer he stays in it, reacting to the threats and circumstances it encounters - meaning the shape it takes is not entirely consistent. Based on the limited “stress testing” Cerberus attempted, it usually manifests as a chimerical Abz J. Harding grade horror. At first, it’ll be only slightly larger, overall, than Virgil; the more damage it sustains, the more it has to regenerate, the more aggressively it’ll scale up. Its strength and speed increase proportionally, and coupled with those talons and fangs, it’s well-equipped to make a mess. 

drawbacks / vulnerabilities… 

It’s all one big drawback, baby, as far as Virgil’s concerned. But to get specific, despite his regular “prescription” from Cerberus, he’s finding himself very sensitive to sensory input - bright light, loud noise, harsh smells, and some “off” tastes, in that order. So long as his power’s suppressed, he’s also prone to joint and muscle aches and general restlessness, up to and including insomnia, distractibility, and moodiness. Everything’s overwhelming, in other words. Any powers that push those buttons are going to be an issue. An EO that can actually “nudge” someone else’s powers or state of mind could be incredibly helpful or a major problem, depending which way they’re poking him - or his monster. 

If he does get to change at all, how badly he’s affected by the turn back to his usual self depends on how long it’s been and how the turn came about. He’s got limited data on this, and none of it is promising. There’s the pain, which is excruciating. And the indignity. Disorientation! Vertigo! Nausea! Especially if he ate while transformed. He has difficulty remembering what went on, and what he does recall is disjointed, filtered through a different brain and body. Other vulnerabilities include the simple fact that once he’s turned, he doesn’t seem able to think clearly or really control his actions; his monster runs on instinct, and can’t be reasoned with. Not that it tends to inspire people to try diplomacy, which is unfortunate, as it reacts very badly to violence. So, what to do? A whopping dose of force to overwhelm his regenerative abilities/metabolism and a load of sedatives is all Cerberus really has to answer this question, for now, anyway…

cerberus corp… 

Oh, no - he wasn’t “recruited.” Virgil was blackmailed, far as he’s concerned. It wasn’t like he could say no, sitting in a Cerberus Corp containment cell, faced with the hopeless-seeming horror of his situation. But as far as any of his agent “clients” know - those who didn’t respond to the disaster that started all this, at least - he’s just stopping in as a favour. Him and the founders go back, he says. And he just loves a challenge. Couldn’t resist. They’re only keeping these collaborations hush-hush for the sake of security, you see. Again, unless they were involved in containing what happened the first time his powers manifested, only high clearance Cerberus personnel would know he’s extra ordinary at all. Of course, the lower-level agents he costumes might have suspicions… especially as his mutation continues to be difficult to manage.  

codename… 

He’s heard it said around Cerberus; they have to put something on the paperwork, he supposes, and it’s better they use some ridiculous codename than his real one. If he ever hears his actual name in the mouth of a goddamn Cerberus agent, he’ll sue. That doesn’t mean he prefers that moronic sobriquet some shitheel came up with. Don’t call him that. Don’t call him anything, frankly. Forget he was ever here. 

003.  EXTRA

I’d love to put out connections for the following! THE HANDLER This is who deals with Virgil on Cerberus Corp’s behalf, arranging his “contracting” schedule and informing him of any adjustments needed to either his designs or his “prescription”; they might have been involved in corralling his monster after it first erupted, or may only be familiar with his powers through the testing notes Cerberus provides. Up to you! Either way, this is a testy dynamic to say the least. He’s been a hell of a handful for the year and change they’ve been “collaborating.” 

Please don’t hesitate to propose connections! I’ll come up with more later!

[shyjinks]

getting dragged around by my mom to hardware stores so have some funky little concepts for the blupee!wild au

wild n flora are both genderfluid in my heart because they deserve it. i think they’re also prob in a qpr, because that matches the closer-than-normal not-explicitly-romantic sort of relationship they have rlly well (and also the world needs more qprs)

wild, time, and hyrule all have tapetum lucidum! it’s pretty cool until you see just glowing blue/green eyes staring at you across camp in the middle of the night

wild just randomly glows sometimes. they don’t mean to do it, and it usually happens when they’re asleep. it’s cool until you wake up in the middle of the night and then can’t get back to bed because they’re glowing with the brilliance of a thousand suns. it is helpful in dark places though! they can just light up like a christmas tree and no one is blind anymore lol

wild has wings but doesn’t actually know how to do anything but glide. the wings were just sort of something that appeared over the course of their transformation, and they didn’t question it because it was probably weird spirit shenanigannery. sky teaches them how to fly :)

as a spirit, they don’t actually need to breathe, so wild likes to sneak up on legend when he goes swimming and scare the shit out of him lol

ummmmm hm that’s all i can think of rn but the fic is coming along well, so look forward to that if you’re curious

[deivorous]

Grimmjow Biology Headcanons

Based on my General Hollow Biology post, I thought I would highlight some physical traits specific to Grimmjow. 

Digestion - Due to the placement of his hollow hole, Grimmjow has a shortened digestive tract. He is a hypercarnivore and struggles to digest plant matter. He also has multiple dietary restrictions including : lactose intolerance, sensitivity to chocolate, inability to digest large amounts of fiber. The general rule of thumb is that if you can’t feed it to your cat, don’t feed it to Grimmjow.

Spine - Grimmjow has different spinal structure to that of a normal human. A Human has 33 vertebrae, Grimmjow has 37, much thinner and more loosely joined vertebra. This permits for extensive and unnatural levels of flexibility.

Teeth - The molars at the back of Grimmjow’s mouth are narrow and serrated, designed for shredding meat rather then grinding up plant material. He has a strong enough jaw to bite all the way through bone.

Communication - Grimmjow can make all sorts of inhuman sounds, from purrs to growls, to roars. He’s also much more prone to replying on nonverbal communication where he can, whether this is tactile or signaled with a flick of his ears or tail.

Healing factor - Grimmjow’s saliva, much like Nelliel’s, has healing properties. It is antibacterial, and promotes cell regrowth. It does not have an analgesic effect. Grimmjow’s natural healing factor also means that he needs to consciously suppress it or re-damage healing areas to ensure scarring. Enough reiatsu in a would will prevent him from healing it properly.

Resurrecion

- He lacks collarbones.

- The longer metatarsal bones in grimmjow’s legs means he has to dramatically adjust his posture to balance - this is instinctive.

- His tail is not tapered and can be used as a whip or a blade. It is prehensile. Yanking on it suddenly pulls at his spinal column and is painful. It joins to his back just below his shoulder blades rather then extending from his tailbone. The point where his vertebra split is particularly vulnerable, and has stronger hierro to protect the bones as well as additional musculature to control the tail.

- His claws are not retractable. Neither his paws nor his hands are sensitive.

- The claws on his paws are bone and they hurt to break.

- The black fur of his resurrection covers his arms up to his forearms. It covers his entire lower body, and a complete center stripe of his back, over his shoulders, and his tail. He has a noticeable rosette patterning to his fur.

- His ears are motile.

- Grimmjow’s height in his resurrecion is 7′4″ when standing straight.

Main Senses

Sight - Previously colour blind, Grimmjow’s sight was dependent on detecting movement. He is very sensitive to movement in his peripheral vision. His old colorblindness means that he is originally very overwhelmed by places like the human world with a lot of bright colors. He has a tapetum lucidum, and pupils that can widen further then a normal human’s, this allows for very good night vision.

Smell - he has a very sensitive nose and can accurately detect changes in an individuals stress levels, health, and even some emotions. He can track another hollow by scent for several kilometers.

Hearing - his ears are very slightly pointed, even in his sealed form, this allows for him to catch sounds. He can detect changes in heart rate, hear sounds between 20 Hz and - 85,000 Hz, and detect noises up to a mile away. In his release he has much greater control over the position of his ears and can swivel them 85 degrees.

Touch - Grimmjow has very limited sensation through his hierro; largely only capable of feeling deep pressure and pain. He is largely insensitive to cold pain. He feels heat normally, though heat struggles to cause damage against his hierro.

Taste - Grimmjow has very altered taste-buds. He can not taste sugar, (though he he finds sweet things generally cover other, worse flavours), really bitter things - such as tea or coffee - are repulsive to him, and he can often taste poisons and other substances that he might not be able to digest properly.

[whirlybirdwhat]

Hello, 'tis me, again, with more rambling Glasses or contact lenses to make eyes of df users less shiny sound legit as an existence, but I think? Most of them would be in world government hands. Similar to sea stone maybe, but potentially less Wano? Though they could be glasses made with sea stone dust or something, that could be interesting. I could also picture Dr Vegapunk inventing them. And while we're a vegapunk, didn't he also make weapons eat fruits? (1/?)

I think Vegapunk did. And remember two of those df weapons: Funkfried, the elephant sword of Spandam, and the bomb barking dog back in Alabasta (Mrs Christmas and Mr 4 I think). Which, technically, wow, cool thing that that works but also,,, how. And then: did they have to 'tame' the animal weapons after their creation? I mean dogs are good boys and elephants are gentle creatures, but still. Also, while I'm not sure how shiny eyes applies to weapon form, shiny elephant eyes are now a thing

Back with shiny eyes, on your right you can see the heavenly demon staying true to his name, because imagine Doflamingo sitting in a dark place, light flashes, eyes do their shiny thing, and he is cackling. That Is Some Supreme Creep. On that note, evenings with the doflamingo fam must have been generally heart attack inducing, too. So many df users. And family photos! I wonder if there are exorcists or something in the blues where df are not as well known as on the grand line. 

Another thing: Doflamjngo makes strong puppet copies of himself. Do they have the shiny eyes too? I mean, asking the law of physics, probably no, but whenever has one piece actually listened to laws of physics. Is he always wearing sunglasses to not always have the shiny eyes? Robin makes copies of herself too, as it's the whole thing of her df. I'd say they have all the shiny eyes. Also! Robin! Eldritch being confirmed, but also, with so many extra limbs and eyes, I could imagine 

- I could imagine that on one island she isn't looked at as potential eldritch horror, but maybe an angel, going with the old biblical angels of Too Many Eyes iirc. Bonus: everyone on Sabaody after 3D2Y must be new to grand line, overworked, or...dumb? bc how can anyone fall for the fake Luffy trap if he doesn't have shiny eyes? I think general marines may be overworked, bc new HQ in NW, more pirates bc of WB last words i guess. Doesnt excuse the pirates tho. Maybe they didnt see his eyes? - Minchen0897

------

HOLY FUCK IM SCREAMING this is all so good oh my gosh.

Anyway for the lenses - definitely Vega punk made the clear looking ones that alter the light, but I think that normal shades (so Doflamingo’s eyes) would also block it as well... but also Vegapunk becoming interested in the science of Df eaters hmmmmm many thoughts many thoughts many suspicions fgdhjsak

And yeah! DF weapons are the coolest! Theres the gundog and funkfreed, but Rakuyo, one of Whitebeard’s commanders, also has a flail that ate a devil fruit, (though the df isunconfirmed! )Pretty cool and it has like demon eyes, which imagining just this hunk of metal flying at you absolutely terrifying with it’s demon eyes I would cry its so cool. 

If they didn’t have visible eyes though... what if they just freaking glowed. Like working like tapetum lucidem in theory but without the actual science and just shined sense their whole ‘body’ is the eyes??? Idk food for thoughts.

Doflamingo is an awesome case because in canon we haven’t even seen his eyes - so picture this. those who interact with df users know about the shiny eyes - but they haven't seen mingos. They say he’s eaten the string fruit but are we sure? What if he’s lying? what if he’s truly a heavenly demon?  Rumors erupt adding to his fame 10/10 concept. 

His clones would have the shiny eyes if we could see them this is truth I say it now.

Eldritch being Robin going to a new island doing her usual thing expecting to be creeping ppl out but instead she’s revered and offered gifts and thank you and praises for the message she brings, and robins face has never smiled more she prefers this revered angel treatment a lot.

.... in theory though, could robin, if she had like a glowing ball, attach her eyes to it to make her look like one of those flaming hell angels? 

holy shit that would be cool.

AND AS FOR SABAODY! Here’s what im going with! I might have said this before to idk, the tag for all the posts should be devil fruit users have tapetum lucidum I think so maybe check that out. ANYWAY

Here’s the theory - shiny eyes are a rumor, nothing confirmed, one you only know if you have interacted with a df user in the right lighting. Sabaody’s far too bright for shiny eye science, however, most people don’t think its true in the first place -df users on pirate crews are common, but in modern islands? nah. 

God I love this shiny eyes offers much more world building to op im losing my shit I love receiving these

[klanced]

In your voltron rewrite... are u going to change any character designs? Is Allura still gonna have a British accent? Will Lance have brown eyes?

Yep! Here’s a list of things off the top of my head:

Alteans won’t have British accents, because the trope of “advanced magical species sounding like Brits” is old and tired. I don’t know what I’ll replace it with if I’m being honest.

That being said, I kind of like Romelle’s accent?? I suspect it’s supposed to be a British accent, but it doesn’t carry all the way. The way she rounds her words is interesting.

To be fair, it’s hard to describe accents in writing (unless you go for a southern accent and star’ writin’ ev’ry word like this) but ideally Allura’s voice would be more…. Obviously alien, I suppose.

For example, Alteans could have a different respiratory system! Maybe they have an extra lung, or their lungs are hard and hollow instead of spongy like ours. And hey, that could affect the way they talk! 

Maybe there’s an almost whistling noise at the end of their sentences. Or their voice lilts on the first syllable of every word, or there’s no concept of the letter “h” in Altean so when they try to say “have” it comes out more like “eave” (or something along those lines…) The possibilities are endless!

Brown Eyes, Babey!! (Tyra do not interact)

Lance has brown eyes! 

His pupils are also bigger in my rewrite than they are in canon but I have no way to like… Make that come across. But just know. He has medium sized pupils and they are a lovely shade of medium brown :D

Hunk has dark brown eyes, as per canon. I’d say his eyes are the second darkest shade of brown (Shiro has the darkest eyes).

Shiro’s eyes are dark brown, to the point of black (ASIANS REPRESENT)

I’m making Pidge (and, by extension the rest of Holts) have hazel eyes instead of amber ^^ I did some research, and I decided that under the sunlight, Pidge’s eyes look almost multicolored- They’re light brown around the pupil and more green towards the outer ring of the iris.

Keith’s canon eye-color is blue-gray according to the Voltron wikia but toss that junk out the window, babey!

I feel like Keith’s Galra heritage definitely influences his eye color/shape…

LMAO when Keith was like, three, he got really sick so his dad took him to the hospital and the doctors there were CONVINCED Keith had jaundice because his sclera are a pale yellow. It’s not really noticeable because his eyes are so dark and contrast against them, but his doctors freaked out and tried to get him admitted for further examination.

Texas Kogane was luckily able to pass it off as a family condition lmfao.

Like Shiro, Keith eyes are dark to the point of coming off as black. However, Keith’s eyes are actually mixed violet-dark brown. It’s not obvious at first because violet + dark brown more or less combines to make a kind of reddish black (think #47001F or maybe #5C003D) but if you take a picture of Keith with the flash on/shine light on his eyes in a darkened room, they WILL glow.

I will stan the Galra having tapetum lucidum until the day I DIE.

Also Keith’s pupils are more oval in shape because I like to imagine the Galra having diamond shaped/vertical slit pupils, so Keith having oval pupils represents how he’s a combination of his parents.

Altean eyes are honestly so cool and I’ll keep them, with some minor updates. Like heterochromia!

Allura specifically has central heterochromia (two colors in the iris, with an inner ring around the pupil and then an outer ring around that). 

Coran has complete heterochromia; his right eye is his canon navy-purple, while his left eye is a gray-green. 

In my opinion, Allura is the embodiment/heart of Voltron and I’m changing parts of her character design to reflect that.

Instead of having stark white hair, Allura’s hair is a very light shade of purple. Alfor had white hair, Allura’s mom (who I’m still in the process of naming) had dark purple hair, so Allura is a nice medium in between.

It’s important to me that Allura has a lot of purple incorporated into her design because 1) It’s my favorite color, 2) It helps distinguish her from her mom (there will be NO copy pasting in this house!), and 3) Purple is associated with the Galra, and I want to acknowledge the fact that Voltron was born of both the Galra and Alteans.

This is important set-up for my Keith and Allura co-leadership arc okay. There are things behind the scenes. Also I’m too tired to like, fully explain why Purble Is Good but before anyone gets worried this isn’t me setting up a Galra Apologist arc so don’t worry.

Her hair color would be somewhere between #EDE2EF and #F8F3F9

Allura has central heterochromia, as I mentioned above, so she’s got a few colors going on. I’m still. So torn as to what those colors are. I want to incorporate blue and black to represent how she has the potential to fly the Blue and Black Lions, but I’m also tired of blue eyes in fantasy genres LMAO. Also….. green eyes……… OR PURPLE.

Does anyone else remember that theory that Allura has a prosthetic leg(s) because I do and I still think about it ALL the time. Anyway Allura has a kickass robotic leg, and I’m suddenly getting strong Paninya from Fullmetal Alchemist vibes. Nice.

(Thinks about all my headcanons for Coran) heehee

Alteans have freckles!! Or something approaching freckles, they could just be a further extension of their facial markings lmao.

I like to imagine every Altean has their own unique patterns. Coran’s wrap around his arms and legs like jellyfish stings/waves. Allura has these spattering of dots concentrated on her shoulders and torso (heart of Voltron, babey!)

Lance’s hair is more wavy/slightly curvy in this universe than it is in canon. It also is just better overall because his canon hair sucks ass. Sorry ladies, but it’s true. 

Voltron has this weird thing for bangs. I don’t get it. Suffice to say, that shit is chopped off here.

I have no idea how to fully describe hair, but essentially: Lance’s hair now has a bit more texture, and he has more of it in general, so it doesn’t stay flat against his head. It’s short, but not cropped; there’s probably a little bit of give to it in the front, but not enough to call it a bang. He hates slicking back his hair because he’s insecure about his bigass forehead.

Hunk’s hair is HELLA THICK, like he has to keep it short or else it’ll get everywhere. There’s a slight curl to his hair, more in the back than in the front, and it all grows ridiculously fast. Ponytail Keith? Please. Ponytail Hunk is where it’s at.

Pidge’s hair is super funny to me. I mean, part of it is because it’s a ridiculous hair style, but it’s also completely impossible to replicate. Literally, does she gel her hair every day or something?? Nah. I’ll just make her hair a mix of curly-wavy and go. Also, instead of those knife bangs, she has a sweeping side-bang thing going on.

Keith’s hair is ugly but it stays because that’s literally just how Asian teenage boys are.

I’ll give him more hair-ties than canon does however. You thought turnip Keith was a one-time thing? You thought wrong.

Shiro having an undercut after a year of captivity is outrageously funny to me. Instead, he crash-lands on Earth with the most obviously self-cut haircut ever. Long hair was a liability in the gladiator pits, so Shiro made do with whatever rusty weapons he could find and a prayer. 

It’s horribly lop-sided. There are patches where it looks like his hair caught on fire, which it probably did.

Once they’re not in immediate danger of dying, Keith sits Shiro down and gives his brother a proper haircut. The Asian fade.

Allura likes to change her hairstyle every few days. Not because she’s particularly concerned about her appearance (Side-note: What would the beauty standards for a species capable of shape-shifting even look like??), but because styling her hair guarantees her at least an hour of personal time she can use to mentally prepare for the coming day.

[seventhstar]

11 for dear diary, I met a boy and even sinners have hearts?

What do you like best about this fic?

even sinners have hearts:

Hmm. ESHH has two big inspirations. One is our doubts are traitors by @astoryaboutwar, which is just this really amazing fic about powered criminals Viktor and Yuuri, and the other is one of my old fics, a Zexal canon AU called Tapetum Lucidum.

After I first read our doubts are traitors (which was over a year ago, at least; I haven’t allowed myself to even look at it since I started writing ESHH to avoid any inadvertant plagiarism. Which means I haven’t read the update yet, unfortunately, but if you haven’t read this fic please do!), I thought, man, I miss writing darker fics. I didn’t really start writing romcom-type fics until YOI fandom. I came up with this idea of a telepathic Viktor, and how that ability might map onto Viktor’s existing character, and from there I built the world around him. ESHH is in Yuuri’s POV, but it’s really Viktor’s story in a lot of ways. It’s just that Viktor is kind of overpowered for a POV character, and following Yuuri as he tries to put together all the mysteries is a lot more interesting to read.

It’s a fun story to write because there are a lot of moving pieces to juggle. It’s also a fun story because most of the worldbuilding came out of my head, so I really do have free rein in a way I don’t in other AUs. I like writing this version of Victuuri, too, where their feelings for each other are juxtaposed against both of their moral inadequacies.

Also, I just like to write cliffhangers and suspense and upset my readers. Whoops.

dear diary, i met a boy:

This fic is 50% spite and 50% my diehard devotion to Jock Yuuri/Nerd Viktor. Listen, you could write Viktor as a popular quidditch captain, but Viktor canonically is a workaholic with no friends who is bad at flirting and who cries on his dog, so consider that baby Viktor was probably a hot mess. Yuuri, on the other hand, is the celebrity hero of his small town and seducing Viktor by flexing all his muscles really hard on a pole and deals with stress by aggressively running away, and baby Yuuri probably had hordes of classmates who followed him to the rink to crush on him.

Look. That’s just science. This fic is also my argument for Ravenclaw Viktor and Slytherin Yuuri. 

The rest of it is just spite at JKR. JKR wants to ruin Harry Potter by adding a bunch of racism and inconsistent world-building and trying to convince us Remus is straight? Fine! I will write an AU that fixes all your shitty writing point by point. Everyone will be gay. Wizards will be roasted for not having wifi and not teaching their kids math. Hogwarts is the jock party school of the wizarding world now. 

(I also just wanted to do a high school AU, and realized that I could just steal JKR’s magical high school and combine all my wishes into one.)

[theostry]

TW Script liveblog - Season 1 Episode 1: Wolf Moon

Or, as it is otherwise known:

Teen Wolf Scripts!

Check it out, Wolfiends. This is a loooooong post consisting of screenshots of the Teen Wolf script alongside my own rambling commentary. I'm not here to review the show; finer minds than myself have got that covered. Nor is it a photo-recap; that has been done by crazier bastards than myself. What I am here for is scraping the bottom of the barrel so hard I'm eating splinters, give me that Teenage Lupine content, give me ALL OF THE CONTENT--

*ahem*

Excerpts have been selected based on the following criteria: 1) It did not make the final cut; 2) It substantially altered; 3) It offers extra detail not apparent from the show, such as description and direction; and 4) I felt like including it. 

Fun times (and, obviously, a hell of a lot of spoilers) below the cut.

(What the heckie do these colours mean? We may never know)

So let's get started.

Answering the real questions here: Scott's shirtlessness was script mandated, not just a case of Posey being slightly allergic to clothes. Let's all take a moment to think about Scott's lithe frame and then go to jail reminisce over how it felt when we had no idea what he would come to mean to us. Sigh.

Aaaaand paydirt! Here is a lovely little scene we never saw on screen.

Doesn't really tell us anything we didn't learn soon enough, but any McCall family time is time well spent. And I'm not sorry they deleted the casual clumsiness from Scott's intro, so I can keep my headcanon that he had mad lacrosse skills from all his practising but just couldn't play due to asthma.

A wild Stiles appears!

And it is the perfect intro to his character, easy to see why they didn't change a thing. DOB nailed it. 

Before long, we are introduced to--

-- Wait, hold up, who? Looks like Stiles's dad got a promotion sometime between "Double Buff" and filming. Congrats, John  Michael  Noah!

Seriously, though, consider the extra layer of politics and secrecy that would have been going on if he was just a deputy rather than Sheriff.  What a different show it would have been, especially in later seasons. 

WHY, JEFF DAVIS?  WHY ARE YOU COMMENTING ON THE ‘BEAUTY’ OF A GHASTLY SEVERED CORPSE?  HOW IS THIS WOMAN'S ATTRACTIVENESS OR OTHERWISE RELEVANT TO THE SITUATION?  DID SCOTT PAUSE MID-PANIC TO THINK "WOW SHE IS HOT (ALSO DEAD AND BISECTED)"? /end rant

But now it's time for--

--and that means

Back to school time!

Setting the scene. Californians, is this a fair representation of your high school experience? Asking for research purposes.

Also, petition for girls and girls also to be able to hold hands. Down with the patriarchy.

It's everyone's favourite juice enthusiast! Looks like the Sheriff wasn't the only one who moved up in the world over the course of the script revision process - Jackson only had a BMW here instead of his Porsche.

As with Stiles's intro, we achieve Peak Jackson in his very first scene:

*snort*

And while we're doing intros--

But wait, this is a game changer -- you think you know how it does, right? Breezing past Stiles as if he wasn't even there, completely ignoring him? Well THINK AGAIN!

Yeah I lied.

So this is new - Scott's hearing was going to be much stronger here, perceiving the caller's voice as well from that distance! What secrets shall be revealed from the other half of this conversation?

Huh. Yeah, that contributed nothing, and would have had absurd implications for werewolf hearing. Also would have been a totally banal first glimpse of Victoria Argent, which is just unacceptable. 

Did this happen? I don't recall it. Would have been a cool shot. 

*Curiosity is piqued*

I confuse. Is this an editing fail? Two versions of the scene that got smooshed together? Or does Lydia swoop twice (possible Banshee prefiguring)?

 I like the book-spilling version. It establishes Allison as kind.

But this bit --

-- I do not like. It seems to suggest that there was always something about Allison that helped Scott control his shift, or even suppressed it? Rather than it being his feelings for her that reminded him of his humanity and strengthened his will. Nopity nope.

Now for another intro:

It's Harley! 

Yeah, I didn’t know either. I guess she got shafted for some reason…which is a pity, because the girl has got snark.

SHOTS FIRED.

Meanwhile…is Harley into Scott? Were we going to have a triangle of luuurve? Not sorry we didn't, triangles are an overrated romantical shape (unless they're equilateral ones, but for some reason teen shows are all about the isosceles and I am over it), but Harley could have been an actual character. RIP, girl I could have liked.

Also RIP Harley's heart, because

Thus far we have had character intros that were Peak Stiles, Peak Jackson and Peak Lydia ('s queen bitch façade). Now we have one that is a massive understatement:

Oh, sweet summer children. We ain't seen nothing yet.

Do you sometimes forget how mutually toxic Lydia and Jackson's relationship was? Ugh.

Excellent priorities, Scott. But so far so canon.

A FIGURE

Who's it gonna be, ohmigosh mysterious figure--

Ohmigosh, is it--

*ahem* sorry

Okay I think I'm beginning to understand why we absolutely had to know about the ravishing beauty of corpse-lady:  Jeff Davis is simply incapable of giving a description of anyone without reminding us how attractive they are. HEY EVERYONE!  THIS IS A SHOW FOR HOT PEOPLE!  EYE CANDY OVER HERE!

…waitaminute, back the truck up. 

WhaaAAAAAT?

*thinking forward to skeevy Kate plotline, Hale fire was 6 years ago, runnin' the numbers, doin' the math*

19 minus 6 equals …KATE you EFFING PEDO GET in the BIN RIGHT NOW--

--nah just kidding, they obviously decided to age him up sometime after this edit. Also, as has been observed, Jeff Davis inhabits a world blissfully innocent of such things as calendars.  

Now I hope I have sufficiently distracted my audience with squicks and figures, because I want to sneak this one through without getting crucified.

Okay we're done here, on to--

Really, there's nothing--

One million hardcore Sterek shippers:  *collectively lose their shit*

One innocent liveblogger:  *hides*

All twelve Scerek shippers:  *are validated*

Someone sensible:  It's just one line of direction in a first meeting, it doesn't mean--

One desperate liveblogger:  OKAY, MOVING ON

This is such a great scene -- the terror of all those panicking cats, Scott wanting to calm them but, realising he is the problem, freaks out himself -- and it just got even better, because there's something missing here that we saw on-screen.

While it could have come in a later revision, I choose to believe that singing "hey, kitties!" in greeting was just Tyler Posey's natural instinct upon walking into a room full of feline friends.

But now Allison is here, and Scott has passed off the panic baton to her.

Woooo Scott is getting his wolf on! But he doesn't seem to know it yet. I wonder from whose perspective Scott's calm is supposed to be 'odd', because I wouldn't have expected him to get worked up about an injured dog given his job. And how many wolves has Jeff Davis met? I don't think their eyes typically glow, outside of tapetum lucidum reflections. But what do I know, I'm not a zoologist.

Also -- they were supposed to have an umbrella? Budget cuts are brutal.

Do you ever forget how adorable Scallison were before things got complicated? Can I get an "Awww"?

It's also nice that they gave Allison reasons to be interested in Scott beyond 'he's cute' and 'he noticed me'. She admires him for his competence and gentleness here, she's seen him excelling at sports without being a douche about it, and their first interaction was one of generosity. This is why it's disappointing that they cut the bit where Allison helps a stranger with her books -- it's a pity they didn't show us Scott's reasons for liking Allison beyond 'she's pretty'. A sadly typical imbalance in Hollywood: boys are admirable for what they do, girls for how they look. Thank all the gods and little fishes that Allison subverts the hell out of this trope later on.

Is this or is this not the cutest interaction? It gets better:

Cats are one thing, Scotty, but you gotta think about your choices when dogs are judging you.   

Now who’s being judgemental

'Litigious', Scott? And before the word-a-day calendar regime, too. Insert comment about American litigation culture here.

Scott is definitely talking about the dog not at all about himself why would you say that--

Okay so Scott's having his weird woodsy sleepwalking dream now, and I have to go back and check because -- white? Why are the Alpha's eyes white? Sure enough:

Did they retcon the Alpha red eyes thing after the Pilot/Wolf Moon was shot Even in the earlier scene where Scott was bitten: 

White eyes. What gives, Jeff?

While we're here, let's just take a second to appreciate Peter the Cartoon CGI Gorilla-Wolf. LOL.

Get back to the scripts woman, the photo recap thing has been covered, stay in your lane

AWKWARD. Anyway that's the same as in canon, but I initially read that as 'mysterious smile' and freaked because was that pool owner person supposed to be significant??, but no, never mind, carry on.

Meanwhile, this ep is just FULL of iconic moments.

All together now,

*sighs happily*

Was it as good for you as it was for me?

Later, at the lacrosse scrimmage:

I checked the episode, and…nope. No Derek stalking around on the field in this scene. That we saw.

 Oh good, we hadn't seen a naked torso in a while, I was starting to worry

Who can get enough of Melissa--Scott moments? Not me, that's for sure. But wait--

Voices becoming TINNY what is happening

Someone's  creeping

*sings* ‘Who can it BEEE no-ow?’

*snort*

In other news, Jackson is not the only one who got a vehicular upgrade. I don’t know enough about cars to discern the mystical significance of these changes. Experts please?

Ah, can't believe they cut this! Is he just embarrassed to have an inhaler in front of Allison, or does he realise on some level that his asthmatic days are over? 

Oh yikes, is this another scene of which we were ROBBED? I want my absolute and agonizing awkward teen silence!

ROBBED, I say! Robbed of canon confirmation of Scott's dorky music taste!

Awww.

I liked Scallison well enough, but if these scenes had been included I would have been 200% sold on it from ep 1.

Confused Scydia moment! I wonder if Lydia greeted Stiles like that too, and if so how hard he flailed.

Harley again! In the version that made it to screen she and Stiles both ask Scott if he's okay. That girl should have stayed a character. *grumpy face* 

"Deep black eyes"? "Strangely hypnotic"? Preeeeetty sure he was just standing there with his regular (insanely pretty) ambiguously green-hazel eyes; and while that was a fair attempt at a charming smile (for Derek), "hypnotic" it wasn't.

That would have been a cool visual.

“Powerfully muscular”; “strangely seductive”; “He's given into it” 

I'll tell you who's into it, Jeff Davis is into it And you know what?

So am I.

*Curiosity intensifies*

A nice little moment of realisation we never got to see

This is changed up a bit -- in the show the dialogue comes before the wrestling, there's no throat-gripping (Derek holds Scott down with a hand on his chest), and we have yet to see those shiny blue eyes.

Also, demonic. *shivers* 

That's interesting - obviously was going to be more support to the false lead of Derek being the Alpha, but they walked it back.

A bit of added urgency here

"Steps out of the darkness" -- from what we saw, Derek was just standing there next to Scott, no added drama. Add this to the 'hypnotic deep black eyes' we never saw -- can it be that the creeper-wolf that graced our screens was actually the less spooky version??

I guess they forgot to talk to the sun’s manager about their filming schedule.

Well that answers my question about how Stiles knew where to find Scott. Sort of.

Also: Aaaaaaaangst.

Aww, my heart. The bromance.

I love how it's "instantly recognisable," but in the final cut they can’t help throwing in a flashback to all of three minutes ago just to make sure we recognise him. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Teen Wolf.

Yes, apparently that is Chris Argent's idea of a 'friendly smile'.

Also, sworn enemy. Lol.

Great ending to a great pilot episode! And what extra-delicious and not-at-all mouth-perforating splinters of teeny wolfy goodness does our script-reading scrape up for us?

Well, we have extra delightful domestic scenes with the McCalls; extra adorable baby flirting between our star-crossed lovers (not that they know the heavens hate them yet, shhh); a wonderful character who could have been in Harley (will she show up more in future scripts? At what point did they decide to consign her to the trash can of oblivion? Or did she just disappear because she realised she had no chance with Scott now that Allison is here?); and honestly, it ws worth it for Jackson’s favourite word alone. 

But clearly the most important thing we leaned from the Teen Wolf Pilot script (Double Buff edition) is that the

we know and love is NOT, in fact, the creepiest, most melodramatic, most stalkerish version of himself. He could have been worse. Watching Scott at practice earlier than we knew eavesdropping on him shirtlessly discussing sex with him mum, using strangely hypontic deep black eyes on unsuspecting teenage girls, emerging theatrically from the shadows -- just imagine, if he'd been behaving like that from the get-go, no way would Scott have trusted him. Good job toning it down, Jeff Davis!

Exeunt.

[thishazeleyeddemon]

kneel into a dream

y’all I’ve been REALLY feeling bnha recently

Anyway so this is a Tsuyu and Tokoyami fic because I Love Them. No tws except maybe some angst

I hope y’all like!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11796129 << AO3 link my dudes

Tokoyami is used to having nights to himself.

(Well. For a given value of that, anyway. With Dark Shadow curling around his ribs, digging its claws into his heart, he has long since forgotten what being entirely alone feels like.)

He knows several of his classmates have insomniac tendencies, has seen the light on in Todoroki’s room long after the clock has switched into the AM hours, has heard Uraraka pacing back-and-forth and music drifting from Jirou’s room, but most of them seem to prefer to remain in their own rooms when they can’t sleep. Even if they don’t, they avoid him. He doesn’t think it’s fear that causes that. It’s merely that, if you’re up late, you probably aren’t feeling very social.

In any case: Tokoyami gets the hours of eleven PM to three AM mostly to himself.

Except today, for some reason.

“Hi, Tokoyami.”

Tokoyami does not jump. His feathers do not poof out like a startled bird.

“Hello, Asui,” he says, voice carefully composed.

“Call me Tsuyu,” she says. Ah, yes. As - Tsuyu likes familiarity.

He shifts around on the couch so he can look at her. Her hair isn’t styled, falling around her face in long, tangled teal waves. Her eyes are strange and luminous in the darkness, shining orange like an autumn moon. She tilts her head in that way that she has. He feels examined, but, strangely enough, not in a bad way. There is no malicious intent, merely curiosity.

“You have pretty eyes,” Tsuyu says, and this time Tokoyami cannot deny the way his feathers puff up. Dark Shadow stirs. He hears phantom laughter that he knows Tsuyu doesn’t.

“I, uh - thank you, Tsuyu.” His face feels hot.

She tilts her head again.

“Sorry for embarrassing you,” she says. “You do have nice eyes, though.”

She sits down next to him on the couch. It creaks under her weight, small as she is. She sits fairly close, enough that he is conscious of how little body heat she has. It’s an interesting contrast to Tokoyami, who always runs hot.

“Why are you awake?” he asks. Tsuyu usually went to sleep at a reasonable time. He rarely saw a light under her door after midnight.

She shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep,” she says, and he wonders if maybe that’s not the whole of it, but doesn’t pry. He has no right to demand information from her, no right to ask to know what demons plague her soul.

You’re so dramatic, Dark Shadow snickers. He does not grace that with a reply.

“What are you doing?” Tsuyu asks. He pauses, suddenly remembering what he’s doing.

He mutters an answer.

“Kero?” Tsuyu tilts her head again.

“Preening,” he says a little louder. “I was...preening.”

“I didn’t know you had to do that,” Tsuyu replies, and he feels some tension drain away at the noncommittal tone of her voice, as if this isn’t even a little strange. He’s always been somewhat of a loner, but the concept of Tsuyu Asui thinking he’s weird lodges in his head as something to be avoided.

He has some dead feathers on his lap, and Tsuyu reaches out and takes one, large fingers delicate and careful. She looks at it, and he wishes he could read her better, because he has no idea what she’s thinking at all.

“Part of my Quirk,” she says finally, “Is that I need water more than most people. I don’t think I could go three days without water, like other people can. Do you have traits like that?”

He nods. “I have feathers on most of the rest of my body, and they need preening as well. Additionally, if I don’t cut my nails, they grow into talons.” He pauses, and adds: “I also have a very nice singing voice.”

Tsuyu makes a strange croaking sound. It takes him a second to realize she’s laughing. He peers at her, but there is only genuine amusement, as far as he can tell. Something warm curls in his chest.

“Do you sing a lot? I’ve never heard you.” Tsuyu leans back into the soft couch, eyes drifting momentarily closed. She looks tired - but then, it is 1:34 in the morning.

“Not often,” he replies, and her eyes drift open again. Her tapetum lucidum makes her eyes flash in the light from the window. She makes a soft croak in response, and then, says nothing. She is silent for long enough that he thinks that maybe she has fallen asleep, and is reaching back up to his feathers when -

“Can I help?”

“W - what?”

Tsuyu apparently takes the surprise in his voice as a dismissal, because she says, “It’s fine if you don’t want me to.” He still can’t read her face. Tsuyu is normally expressionless, but he thinks maybe she is going deliberately blank - trying not to scare him? He doesn’t know. He feels unmoored, drifting - feels the thrum of darkness under his skin, and tells Dark Shadow to calm again. There is certainly no threat here.

“It’s not that,” he says carefully. “Why do you want to -” He feels the sentence die in his mouth. There is no way to revive it that won’t make this even more awkward than it is increasingly becoming.

Tsuyu shrugged. “I do my friends’ hair all the time, kero.”

“Oh.”

Tsuyu eyes him. “Did I just friendzone you?”

“Wh -” He’s never been more glad to be a bird. His face would be red as a tomato, he’s certain. “No!” He takes a deep breath. “No, you did not.”

Tsuyu laughs again, quiet little croaks, kero, kero. “That’s good. Because you’re cool and I’d hate to not be able to be your friend.” A brief pause. “I’m also a lesbian, so. You wouldn’t have much of a chance anyway. Kero.”

“Oh.” Tokoyami is quiet for several seconds. “I too am queer.”

“I know.”

Tsuyu apparently just cannot stop shocking him! It’s almost rude! “I - I thought I hid it well!”

“You do. But,” and here Tsuyu winks at him, a gesture made strange by her mostly blank face, “I’m a very observant frog.”

“Oh.” The vice around his heart releases, as much as it ever does (Dramatic, Dark Shadow whispers again, voice filled with schadenfreude).

“So,” Tsuyu says. “Can I do your feathers or not?”

Tokoyami shifts, moving so his feathers are better positioned for her hands. “Simply correct the misaligned ones and pull off the loose, dead ones - and don’t pull off ones that aren’t loose,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Of course not, kero,” Tsuyu huffs. He feels the couch move and shift with her body, as she pulls herself onto her knees and closer to his back. He feels her knees touch him.

“Kero,” Tsuyu croaks. “Calm down, Tokoyami.”

“It’s been awhile since anyone has done this for me,” he admits, and forces himself to take a deep breath, tension leaking away -

“You’ve had a dry spell, huh?”

“Stop it!”

Tsuyu snickers, and touches his head - and oh, that feels nice. He has no hair on his head or anywhere on his body for that matter, but he imagines that this is what having someone run their fingers through your hair is like. Tsuyu is careful, fingers carding gently through his feathers. She isn’t exactly preening him right now, merely stroking cautiously, as if trying to gauge reactions, see what spots are sensitive.

He lets a deep, content sigh fall from his mouth.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Tsuyu drawls.

Tokoyami shifts. “My apologies.”

Tsuyu laughs again. If he didn’t hear wrong, she sounded quite affectionate, voice filled with warmth. She starts then on the business of actually preening him. Her fingers dig gently into his scalp as she runs her fingers through his feathers, realigning ones that were out of place. Despite himself, he relaxes more, eyes fluttering shut.

“You don't do this very often, do you.” Tsuyu’s voice breaks through the reverie.

“Ah - that's correct. How do you know?

“Your feathers are really messy.” This was stated blandly, with no inflection to indicate insult. Nevertheless, Tokoyami’s face got even more warm. He imagines Satou cooking eggs in the heat from his face.

“I don't often get the chance,” he admits. “It's hard to remember to do on my own.”

“Kero,” Tsuyu says. “You're like Yaoyorozu - I have to remind her to brush her hair sometimes.”  She plucks a feather from him, and he winces at the brief spark of pain.

“Sorry,” she says quickly.

“It's fine,” he says, with equal speed.

They don't talk much after that. Despite himself, Tokoyami continues relaxing. It's hard not to, with how soothing her fingers feel running through his feathers. It sends a wave of calm through his body. His breaths come slower, and deeper, as sleep begins to take a hold on him.

It never feels this nice when he preens himself. And soothing is definitely the right word. Because -

Because -

(Because he is four when Dark Shadow is born, and at a slumber party. He hadn't wanted to go, and his fear is the first thing Dark Shadow feels, his fear and distress and exhaustion. And it is dark in the room. It is so dark.

Because he is seven, and has no friends. He is not bullied, but he knows the only reason for this is because of Dark Shadow, because he is so much stronger than the rest of them. Instead he is avoided. He thinks, perhaps, that this is for the best.

Because he is thirteen, and no one has helped him in years. He gets everything on his own, wins training victories and academic accolades and he does it all on his own. He receives no congratulations, only covert jealous stares. And when he finally gets tired, there is no sympathy. No understanding.

Because he is strong, and terrifying, and self-reliant.

Because he is tired.

Because for once, he wants to be taken care of. Not treated as if he could attack them at any moment, not expected to always stand entirely on his own.)

-  Tokoyami’s head falls forward, a deep shuddering breath coming from his mouth. Tsuyu's hands falter.

“Are you okay?” Her voice is quiet, full of worry. Care. For him. Tokoyami is suddenly afraid.

“Of course,” he says, knowing he sounds stiff.

For a few seconds, Tsuyu does nothing. She starts again eventually, still handing him delicately. He has never been treated like he was something delicate before, like he was something rare and precious. It is - it is new. He can't analyze it beyond that.

He doesn't want to move away.

“Why could you not sleep?” Tokoyami asks.

Tsuyu says nothing for several seconds.

“Tsu-”

“Nightmares.” It is a word flung away like one might toss away something they did not realize was distasteful. It's like she's trying to get it over with. She moves again behind him. He thinks he can feel her long, teal hair on his shoulders - it is smooth and cool.

“I get nightmares sometimes.”

The moonlight coming through the window is silver and clear. The two of them are sitting in shadow, though, hidden in darkness. Anyone entering the room would not immediately be able to see they were there. They are - they are safe.

“What do you dream of?” He tries to speak quietly, carefully. She is handling him with care, he will do the same for her.

Tsuyu does not speak again for several seconds. She does not seem to be preening him now so much as simply petting, stroking his feathers.

Eventually: “Do you remember the USJ attack?”

“Of course. I was warped to the Downpour Zone along with Kouda. Where were you?”

“By the main battle.”

“Oh. You saw All Might fight Nomu, then?”

“Yes, but -”

“But what?”

When Tsuyu speaks again, her voice is measured and controlled, but not natural-sounding. He thinks maybe she is trying to avoid showing emotion. This is impressive, considering what she speaks of.

“One of the people who came there to kill All Might...he tried to kill me. He was going to use his Quirk on me, and turn me into dust. He said something about damaging All Might’s pride as the Symbol of Peace. He was going to kill me just to hurt All Might’s pride…”

Her voice trails off. Her hands still.

Tokoyami twists around to face Tsuyu.

Her face is still mostly expressionless. That's fine. Her large eyes, filled with unshed tears, and her hands, which are balled into fists on her knees, speak enough for the rest of her.

“I would have died just to hurt All Might’s pride,” she says again. Her voice is distant.

Tokoyami is no genius. He knows this. But even a fool could see what to do here.

He wraps his arms around Tsuyu's slim body. She puts up no resistance at all, falling forward onto him. She is so small. She is only a few inches shorter than him, but right now, she is so small.

She is crying in earnest now, tears soaking into his pajamas. Her whole body shakes with it, little croaks spilling out of her mouth.

“I know this is silly,” she manages to get out in between sobs. “I know it's been months, but I just - he was going to disintegrate me -”

“Shhh,” Tokoyami whispers. He strokes her hair, and wishes he hadn't asked - not because he didn't want to comfort her, but because - she looked so small. So small. “Shhh. It's okay. It is.”

“I haven't… I couldn't cry when I went home that day,” she confesses. “My parents were out on a business trip and my siblings needed me to make dinner and I felt like I was dying and I couldn't cry…”

“Shhh,” he says again. “You can now. I don't mind.”

She does, her small body shaking against him, breath coming out as gasps. Dark Shadow comes out, but all that it does is pat her head. Dark Shadow is not made for gentleness, but it is doing a good job.

“It's okay, Froggy,” Dark Shadow whispers. “It's okay.”

Tsuyu manages a smile for Dark Shadow. She takes a deep, shuddering breath. She is no longer crying, but makes no move to get off of him. In fact, she moves so she is curled more into him, head nestled under his neck. He does not tell her to move.

“I'm sorry,” she says, eventually. “It was nice, and then I went and started crying everywhere.”

“Don't apologize, I think you needed that.” Dark Shadow hums in agreement, and strokes her hair again.

“It's okay little Froggy,” it says again. “Don't cry. I don't like that.”

Tsuyu sniffles. Much to Tokoyami’s amazement, she reaches up and pats Dark Shadow’s head, petting it gently. Dark Shadow doesn't seem to know how to react to a friendly touch either, and flinches. Tsuyu pauses, hand still raised, and Tsuyu and Tokoyami watch as Dark Shadow slowly presses its head back into her hand, closing its golden eyes.

Tsuyu smiles, as best as she can, and Tokoyami thinks all of a sudden that the time in which they had been in the same class and not been friends was time wasted. He feels less ragged than he has in years, and it is a new feeling, and it scares him, and he loves it, like a starving wolf loves meat. He was starving.

Dark Shadow eventually retreats back into Tokoyami, patting Tsuyu's head as it went. “Bye bye little froggy,” it said to Tsuyu. “Don't cry.”

Tsuyu does not move. She stays curled into Tokoyami. She is holding him now too, he realizes. One arm curls slightly around his body too. It is…it is nice. He feels content.

“You remind me of my friend Habuko,” Tsuyu hums.

“How so?”

“Everyone thinks you're frightening, but you're actually just a dork. A soft dork. And you have an animal head.”

“You have a type, then?”

She stares up at him, obviously shocked, before laughing. Kero, kero. He laughs too, conscious of how foreign it feels in his mouth.

“That's a dorky joke, kero.”

“And yet, you still laughed.”

“I like dorks.” Tsuyu raises one hand and begins counting off. “Habuko, Ochako, Deku, you -”

“I see your point, Tsu.”

Tsuyu says nothing, and for a moment Tokoyami feels a thrill of panic run through him - was that too much -

Tsuyu yawns. She stretches, as best she can when she's still in Tokoyami’s embrace, and settles back against him. She makes another soft little croak.

She's so comfortable around him. Terror rises inside him, but all he does is wrap his arms tighter around Tsuyu. She trusts him. He can't let her down.

He sighs. It's so late. He feels exhaustion rising, a soft, dark wave. He leans back to rest his head against the armrest of the couch, and Tsuyu follows the movement. Her hair tickles his neck.

“We should go to sleep,” Tsuyu says.

She does not move.

“Perhaps,” Tokoyami replies. He hears sleep thick as syrup in his voice. He does not move either.

Tsuyu reaches up and scratches his head, runs her hand through his feathers. He sighs again.

“That feels nice,” he murmurs. “Peaceful.”

“Kero,” Tsuyu murmurs. Her hand stills.

~••••~

The next thing they know, they are being awoken by peals of laughter, shrill awws, and the click of a phone camera.

Tokoyami opens his eyes and for a split second thinks he might be hallucinating, because they seem to be covered by a thin blanket of darkness. Then it moves, and Dark Shadow peels away from him so he can see clearly.

The people who have found them are Kaminari and Ashido. Kaminari has his phone out, and Ashido is squealing.

Tsuyu, he sees, is still asleep on his chest. Her breathing coming deep and slow, she doesn't seem to be having a nightmare, unlike him.

“Nice job getting a girlfriend, dude!” Kaminari says, jovially.

“You two are so cute together!” Ashido cheers.

Kill me, Tokoyami thinks. To Ashido and Kaminari, he says, “You jump to conclusions. Ts - Asui and I are not dating.”

“Oh, sureeee you're not,” Kaminari drawls. Tokoyami’s eyes narrow.

“We are not,” he repeats. “Asui merely had a hard night. She required comfort.”

“What kind of comf -” Ashido starts, face twisted into a huge grin. Dark Shadow, who had not retreated into Tokoyami, still high on darkness, snarls at her.

“Leave Froggy alone. You're irritating,” Dark Shadow growls. Ashido gulps, perhaps remembering her Sports Festival loss to Dark Shadow, and pulls Kaminari away.

Tsuyu finally stirs. She blinks sleepily at the world around her.

“You're not my bed,” she says to Tokoyami.

“I'm not,” he agrees, and pulls himself properly into a sitting position. Tsuyu moves off him, standing and stretching.

“Kaminari and Ashido think we're dating now,” he tells her. Might as well get it over with.

“Nah, Ashido doesn't, she knows I'm gay.” Tsuyu runs her hands through her hair. “She was just messing with you. Kaminari probably does, but Jirou will set him straight. He tells her everything, so I'm sure she'll find out.”

“Huh.” Tokoyami doesn't know what to say to that.

Dark Shadow pats Tsuyu's head. “Good morning, froggy.”

“Hello, Dark Shadow.” Tsuyu pats it back.

Dark Shadow yawns, and retreats back into Tokoyami’s body. He feels it begin to sleep, as it usually does during the day when left alone.

Tsuyu stretches again. “It's Saturday, right?”

“It is indeed.”

Tsuyu turns to him, and gives him the best smile her face can muster. “Want to go out to get some food?”

Tokoyami did his best to smile back. “I think I would like that very much.”

“Cool. I’ll go ask some of the girls, too.”

“Wait, what?”

Tsuyu paused at the doorway. “Also - thank you for last night, Fumikage.”

“You're welcome, but what was that about -” Tsuyu was already gone. “Tsuyu!”

(It turned out to be Jirou who went with them. He could live with that. Plus, he and Jirou had basically the same music taste.)

Fin.

[silhouetteofagirl]

Cat (from a Study in Synonyms)

Or why one needs to be very precise about descriptions to avoid categorical mistakes. Featuring a dog whose name roughly translates to Fartlord.

A humorous explanation as to why a ranger warden gets a bear and a wolf to follow them around. Still team dwarves are not short humans and have tapetum lucidum.

Read on AO3

“You’re rather feline, you know,” Alistair says one night as they are sitting around the campfire.

“I’m rather what?” she shakes her head in confusion.

“Feline? Like, you know, a cat?” Alistair clarifies.

Sigyn gives him a blank stare, her eyes reflecting back the light of the fire.  “A what?”

“A cat,” he repeats himself.  “You don’t know what a cat is?”

She frowns, her eyes shifting as she tries to remember, but then she shakes her head.  “Grew up in Orzammar.  Unless cats live in underground caves, no.  What is a cat?”

It’s his turn to frown, “Well they are—” how does one explain a cat? “They are like Mabari, but smaller and they have longer tails.  They also tend to be much grumpier than mabaris.”

“And that is why I am like a cat?” she asks coolly.

“Oh no, no, no.  There I go with my words.  It’s your eyes! They glow.  Like a cat’s.  In the dark.” he finishes awkwardly.

“Oh.  I will have to try to meet a cat,” she says and it might just be a trick of the light, Maker knows he doesn’t have as good night vision as her, but Alistair thinks he sees her smile.

Alistair forgets that evening and that conversation entirely until one day he is horribly reminded of it.  To be fair, the only person who doesn’t seem to be shocked is Morrigan, even Sigyn’s dog will not stop growling when she tells him to, but they all sit and stare at her unsure of what to say.  She looks triumphant about the creature that has followed her back to camp.

“Alistair, I finally found a cat,” she says proudly.  There is a long moment of silence.

“That isn’t a cat,” Sten finally says bluntly.

 She cocks her head and pets the damn animal behind its ears.  He repeats himself at her questioning look, “That isn’t a cat.”

“Alistair said cats have long tails, reflective eyes, and—” she explains.

“Why has it not bitten you?” Leliana interjects.

“He told me cats are grumpy, it tried, but I was patient.”

“Yes, but—” Alistair says and then he finds he has no words.  It has all the qualities he had described to her.  Its green eyes reflect in the dark much like hers, it has a long tale, and this one is technically smaller than a mabari.  Though, this one is very small for what it is.

“That’s a wolf,” Sten says.  Morrigan can no longer contain her amusement and lets out a soft chuckle.

Sigyn’s face falls.  “Oh, but—” she bites her lip, but her hand is still entangled in its fur.  “Ancestors tits, I spent the past three nights—” she sighs.

“Cats are much smaller than mabaris and have shorter fur than a wolf.  Though it’s still longer than a mabari’s.” Leliana explains calmly, though she has a hand on her bow in case the wolf decides to bite Sigyn’s hand off.  “Really Alistair, some cats don’t even have tales.”

“Next time we are in town, we’ll find you a cat,” Alistair says as Sigyn continues to pet the wolf who seems to have taken a liking to her.

She frowns at the beast and ponders her choices.  “What should I do about her?” she asks as the wolf looks up at her, mouth slightly open as it pants, sharp teeth very, very close to Sigyn.

“Let her go?” he suggests.

“Can’t.  She won’t be able to the bindings off.”

“Oh Maker’s breath!” he swears. Sure enough, one of the wolf’s hind legs has been carefully wrapped.  Red blood has seeped through the bandage and Sigyn has miraculously kept her all remaining fingers. “Sigyn, tell me you didn’t walk up to a wounded wolf and tend to its wounds.”

She lets out a short sigh, “I thought it was a cat.”

“I don’t want to know,” Alistair says, as he pinches his nose.

“I do.” Leliana says with a smile.

“We still have a wolf in our midst,” Sten comments.  He stands up and crosses over to Sigyn and the wolf.  He doesn’t get far before the wolf starts to growl.  Sten pauses, “Curious.  It does not seem to be actually tame.”

“She’s grumpy,” Sigyn replies.

“She’s a wild animal,” Alistair retorts.  “She should really go back to her pack.”

“Pack?”

“Yes, wolves travel in large groups called packs.  We’ve fought them before, I—”  He pauses, there’s no point in continuing that thought.  Sigyn had made an honest and terrifying mistake.  “She should really go back to her pack.”

“Do cats also have packs?” she asks.  The wolf is still in their camp.

“No, cats tend to be solitary.  A few will travel together at any time.  But that is normally when they are kittens and their mother is watching over them.” Morrigan finally speaks.  She, at least, seems to have a wealth of patience for, or maybe a lack of fear of, Sigyn’s mistake.  Sigyn tilts her head and takes a moment to consider this new information.

Then she nods and smiles, “Anything else I should know about cats?”

“They have sharp claws, not blunt like a mabari,” Leliana says hesitantly.

So they end up with a wolf that hangs near their camp.  She comes in handy because she seems to get awfully protective of Sigyn and takes personal offense when she notices Sigyn is being attacked.  She’s not a permanent fixture; she comes and goes, but she seems to come around whenever Sigyn whistles.  And while the appearance of the wolf makes her whistling a bit less soothing, Alistair can’t deny he find her whistling rather endearing.

However, they completely forgot about finding Sigyn a cat the next time they are in town.  They do remember when she returns to camp one night, once again cheerfully carrying a squeaking baby animal that is distinctly not a cat.

“I found a cat!” she reports, echoing her words from a little over two months ago.  Zevran lets out a surprised string of curses, Wynne clutches a hand to her heart, Leliana starts looking for her bow, and Alistair can only sit and stare in shock.  Sigyn’s face falls immediately at their reactions.  “This isn’t a cat.”

“No, that isn’t a cat,” Alistair feels a chuckle start to form in his stomach.  It’s certainly smaller than a mabari.  It too has eyes that glow in the dark.  Its claws are sharp, unlike a mabari’s.  And surely this creature would be grumpy.  It, however, doesn’t have a tail.  The chuckle escapes him and he ends up laughing out loud as he points out the lack of tail.

Sigyn sniffs and hefts the beast up higher onto her chest.  Alistair notices a blush start climb up her cheeks.  “Leliana said that some cats don’t have tails.  And this one would technically be a kitten, seeing it’s a baby.”

Alistair laughs again at that, even though he feels a bit bad about doing so.  She’s so earnest in her discovery of the surface world and it's refreshing to see her be open about the fact she is learning.

“Where is its mother?” Leliana asks, locating her bow and inching towards it.

“Dead.  I found her fussing over her mother's body.” The bear isn’t struggling against her hold, merely looking around and wiggling in the process.

“Well, at least we won’t have to worry about a full grown bear crashing our camp.” Zevran says wryly, “Let it be known that you, my dear warden, are full of surprises.”

Alistair finally manages to contain his laughter.  He asks, “You going to keep her?”

“She’d die,” is the blunt response.

Raising a baby bear takes some doing, but if having a transient wolf is useful, the bear proves invaluable after she grows up a bit.  However, Alistair once again forgets to introduce Sigyn to a cat.  It ends up not really mattering because in a small town being sieged by darkspawn, Sigyn finally meets a cat… of sorts.

“That’s a cat?” Sigyn asks flatly, pointing to the cat who is sitting and whipping its tail around in unamused.

“It was a cat.” He clarifies, it at least looked mostly like a cat.

“My eyes do not glow like that.” she says, giving him a look.

“That’s the demon,” he says.  Kitty sits there, purple eyes glowing in the dark, looking distinctly displeased.  “Please don’t try to adopt this one.  You already have a mabari, a wolf, and a bear.”

She rolls her eyes, they have had this conversation before.  “I have a mabari, the bear and the wolf aren’t mine.  They’ve just taken a shine to me and won’t leave.”

“I only want the girl,” the demon, Kitty, cuts across their discussion.  Alistair and Sigyn exchange a look and then she glances at Wynne and Morrigan.  Wynne nods and Morrigan looks aloof.

“Do as you will, I have no opinion,” Morrigan responds to Sigyn’s silent question.  Sigyn smiles and nods.

So they set to freeing the demon so they can free the girl from its clutches.  When they take a break from trying to undo the old magics by recreating the circle from the scattered floor tiles, Alistair notices Morrigan is missing.  It’s not uncommon for the witch to wander away when she was bored with their proceedings, so he doesn’t think twice about it.  Besides, Wynne is more experienced with summoning circles.

It’s only after they have finished fighting the recently released desire demon trapped within the now very dead cat without the assistance of Morrigan that Alistair starts to wonder where she is.

“Where’s Morrigan?” he asks as they walk back through the caves.  Sigyn is helping support the shaken girl and leading the way.

“She said the caves were making her antsy,” Wynne says, “I’m sure she’s just getting some fresh air. Don’t worry, she’s a very competent young woman.”

He supposes that is true, but he’s never known her to not like caves. Maker knows Sigyn had found quite a few of them to use as camp sites early on when they had been avoiding soldiers and darkspawn alike.  Morrigan had never complained about their hideouts and this was before he and Morrigan had developed a begrudging respect for each other when she was more prone to complain.

He doesn’t have the time to ponder that train of thought because there is a joyous cry from the girl as she sees her father.  A tearful reunion, a wealth of thanks, and the payment of the correct dwarva words activate the golem later, they find themselves back in the village green.  The air isn’t exactly fresh as many of the building are still smoldering, but there is no Morrigan enjoying the air, regardless of the quality of it.  There is, however, a black and white cat sitting on the fence of the green.  It is lazily tapping its tail and, while its eyes do not glow like Kitty’s had, there is something uncanny about its eyes.

“Sigyn, there’s a cat.” Alistair gestures.  The cat stands up and before Sigyn has time to get a good look, dashes away. “And it’s gone.”

“I’m sure I will meet more cats.  I now know what they actually look like,” she says and pats his arm.

“Just no more bears or wolves,” he says hopefully.

“Not intentionally,” she nods.  Alistair hears the distinct lack of promise, but before he can press the matter she says, “But shall we get a golem?”

He nods and they turn to face the large figure. “What do you think will happen?”

“They’re dwarva, but your guess is as good as mine.”

It turns out that Shale, golems have names, is more snarky and jaded than anything else.  Sigyn takes it in stride though, she has a lot of experience dealing with snarky.  He frowns, thinking about snarky, Morrigan is still missing.

Sigyn lets out a soft gasp of surprise and it’s enough to break him out of his thoughts.  The cat from before winds itself around her ankles, chirrups, and then, noticing Alistair looking at it, aloofly stalks off.  Sigyn turns to him, eyes wide with something close to joy, “Alistair? Does that mean anything?”

“Maybe, but who knows. Cats can be very finicky like—” his heart plummets— “Morrigan.” He sighs and says her name.

“Whatever have I done now?” Morrigan walks towards them from the building the cat had just disappeared behind.

“Are you telling me that wasn’t you?” he asks incredulously.

“I assure you I have no idea what you are talking about,” she says with a smirk.

“The cat! It had your eyes!”

“Ah, but cat’s eyes glow in the dark, do they not. I am lacking glowing eyes unlike one of our party.” Her smirk widens.

“Do they usually quibble?” Shale asks flatly.  Sigyn look up at them and nods. “Delightful.”

“You get used to it,” she reassures the golem.

“Right,” they say.

Alistair catches Morrigan alone a few days later, “Why didn’t you just show Sigyn what a cat looked like?”

“Twas not asked and one does not simply do magic to show a woman the form of a cat,” he scoffs at her words and she gives a smile that could almost be described as fond. “Besides, she is quite talented with the wild for being a child of the stone. It would be a disservice not to foster her exploration of the world.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” he snips back, though there is no real anger or malice behind his words.

“Then we shall count our many blessings that Sigyn is a dwarf,” he laughs despite himself.  Still, her words give him pause.  Despite the confusion over what a cat truly was, Sigyn does have a gift.

Later that night as he sits and pets the Lord of Farts, he watches Sigyn go from chatting with Shale to laughing with Leliana and Zevran and it is obvious.  She might not know exactly what and who she was always dealing with, but she manages to find strays just like herself and bring them together.  Although, hopefully, any new additions will not take the form of large wild animals.

[seventhstar]

for the meme, all numbers that are multiples of 5!

5. since how long do you write?

i started writing terrible short fiction and poetry in elementary school and writing fanfiction online in middle school. some of the evidence still exists. 

10. how do you do your researches?

okay, shout out to the @scriptmedic and their family of blogs -- these are writing reference blogs, run by people in specific fields, on a number of topics including medicine, social work, history, pharmacology, the military. 

i also tend to just...google things until i find sources i think are useful. i have science reference books leftover from college. sometimes i consult a real person. 

for canon, the source material is best, but another shout out to yugioh wikia, which has detailed summaries of every ep, down to the duels turn by turn, deck lists, you name it.

15. hardest verse to write

i assume in this context “verse” is short for universe, and we’re not talking about poetry. hmm...i find fantasy aus difficult. 

20. favorite character to write

u already know it’s ryoga kamishiro/nasch from zexal. but i also really like writing integra hellsing from hellsing.

25. favorite line you’ve ever written

oh, man, that’s hard. um...

this bit from heart, could we bear the marvel of this thing?

“And when Ryoga looks into Yuuma’s eyes, he forgets that he is a star, burning alone and apart in the cold; instead he becomes a planet, caught in the gravitational pull of Yuuma’s love, always falling towards him (always falling for him), never landing.”

30. hardest part of writing

getting the first draft on the page is the hardest part for me. i actually really enjoy editing, and once i’ve got the text on the page i can generally polish it up to posting level, but actually finishing drafts is my kryptonite.

35. single story or multi-part story?

hmm...i don’t know? i think they both have their place. i’ve written a lot more oneshots and shortfics than i have multi-chapter pieces, but that wasn’t a conscious decision. i think some stories just need more space.

also, a good portion of my shorter work was written at 4 am right after watching zexal live, mostly to traumatize hitomi. so.

40. which or your stories would you like to see as a movie/series?

ooooo that’s hard. um. none of the pwp, obviously. i would say either and whatever a sun will always sing is you or tapetum lucidum.

45. share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet

Denarian Nasch is rescued from certain death by his archenemy, Knight of the Cross Yuuma Tsukumo. Betrayed by his fellow Denarians, having lost his coin, he has no choice but to accept Yuuma’s offer of protection. But the longer Nasch stays with Yuuma, the less he feels like an enemy..,and the more he feels like a friend.

50. open question to the writer

well, goo, you didn’t actually ask me anything. so instead i’ll tell you something random.

i’m pretty sure the first zexal fic i ever wrote was about mizael getting turned into a poodle, but the first thing i wrote was this fic based on the fake zexal summary spoilers. when i admitted to this in real life, someone hit me. i’m still so proud.