#write turn here

[multimonorail]

Big Hero 6 Month Day 3: Robotics

Megabot in Big Hero 6: The Series

[freedom-barricades-bighero16]

Hiro is forced to write a story for his class while werebeasts rob the city's fast food establishments. At the same time, Sirque's goal to find Momakase is accomplished in the worst possible way.

Link to episode:

[heartbreakincident]

nothing but respect for our troops (smut writers) but listen. i dont want to be the person to tell you this, but not every character is going to be a dom or a sub. some people. and i know this is hard to hear. but some people do have vanilla sex. and some of those people might even be The Character.

[batfamhastwitter]

Part 13! Happy birthday to Jay and Alf!

Prev ~ Beginning ~ Next

[khywren]

The first time Astarion makes love to you is an absolutely unforgettable experience.

Sure, it's not the first time the two of you have had sex, but this... this is something entirely different.

Once he feels safe with you, there's no sense of urgency, no need for him to do what he thinks will keep you interested in him for more than a fleeting moment. He's not putting on a performance anymore or just going through the motions. It's evident in the way he holds you like you're the most precious thing in the world, and in the way his hands eagerly map out your body. He makes a mental note of everything that brings you pleasure, and he can't get enough of the sweet little sounds you make for him and him alone.

He loves burying his face in the crook of your neck and whispering endearments into your ear, and especially adores the way it makes your cheeks flush when he tells you how beautiful you are. He means every word of it.

At last, he sinks into you, taking his time with slow, deep rolls of his hips that almost leave you breathless. He kisses you just as passionately, hands sliding into your hair while he loses himself in the way you feel beneath him, warm and alive and undeniably his.

Your eyes meet when you both come undone, and the way you look at him with nothing but love and trust and devotion is just one more reminder of just how much he cherishes you.

(inspired by this lovely post from @bloodsuckingfiends - got me kicking my feet and everything) ETA: ended up expanding this one into an actual fic after all!

[ghostieblr]

Peter's Vows

When Derek is born, there is an earthquake. Beacon Hills is many things, but it is not a place of earthquakes. This is an anomaly, this sudden shaking of the land, and Peter watches Talia go through the pain of birthing a cub, and he makes note of how her cries resonate with the moving earth. As the baby is brought to the world of the living, the earth shakes more; giddy, Peter thinks of the land. Giddy at this baby's birth. That's what it is.

The town reels with the destruction, however minimal it seems to be. It is the strangeness of the earthquake that has the people in a panic, and it takes two days of Mayor Yukimura calling for council meetings and community barbecues that they begin to somehwat calm down.

The baby is named Derek on the first day itself, born underneath the Nemeton, his pale blue eyes reflecting the moonlight in silver hues. Talia sobs with relief, Nathan beside her, stroking her hair. Laura is back at the pack house, safely tucked in the bed, the rest of the pack members keeping watch. Talia had wanted to bring her with them, fearing the worst of the anomaly, but their mom had convinced her to not do it. The birth of the Alpha's cub is a big deal, but it is also private: only the Mate, Emissary and Left Hand are allowed to be present, for comfort, safety, and protection, respectively.

It has been tradition since ages, and Talia is the last person to break it.

Derek is a calm baby. Sleeps through the night, doesn't cry for attention. Only does it for feeding, his survival instinct as strong as his lungs. Peter adores him, even if he may never admit it to anyone.

He is also curious about the boy. Why an earthquake? It cannot be a coincidence. Truly, he wonders how some people can be so dumb. Calling it a coincidence is insulting to the Powers That Be, which must have called upon such a natural reaction of the land for a reason. Derek is a special boy, and Peter vows to find out how.

Besides his incredibly compassionate heart, that is.

It is in his eyes, which have slowly turned into a kaleidoscope of colors, the kindness of him. Derek's trust is not so easily earned, but once it is, it is extremely difficult to dislodge it.

Derek is a boy destined to become a kind man, one that will be an Alpha with mercy in his heart but cunning in his mind. Peter sees the makings of it right from the beginning, the way the boy will procure solutions to his own problems as well as those he deems important to him. Laura is the first born and thus has the claim to being the next Hale Alpha, however Peter knows, somehow, perhaps instinctually, that Derek will be the Alpha.

Another piece of the puzzle falls in place when their emissary falls pregnant. She's an amazing woman, Claudia. Peter likes her wit and humor, and he enjoys the perspective of her husband, the deputy, and if luck is on his side, soon-to-be Sheriff of Beacon Hills. Peter is happy for the couple.

He is, also, astonished to see an almost five-year-old Derek climb onto Claudia's lap one morning, his small fists rubbing against his eyes, and his nose scrunching determinedly to find a scent.

Peter remembers the conversation well.

"Derek, honey? What are you trying to find?"

"Mine," is what Derek growls in reply to Claudia, and shoves his nose against her barely-showing belly.

Peter's laughing figure is shot out of the end of the couch and onto the floor by Claudia's impeccable throw of one of the decorative pillows from said couch.

Thereafter, it was peculiar but not unseemly to find Derek following beside Claudia, his whole little being focused on the life forming inside her. And when the night came, Peter wasn't at all surprised to witness the thunderstorm.

Claudia had plans of giving birth in the hospital, but due to miscalculated steps, or simply because of reasons not privy to them, the best possible option left for her seemed to be below the Nemeton.

John had lost his damn mind at the prospect. "It's raining! Heavily!"

"Talia gave birth in an earthquake," Claudia says through gritted teeth, "And the baby doesn't care, nor do I, John. It is—"

Her words are cut off by another scream, and she is right, of course. It is time.

Talia, John, and Peter are the only ones who should go with her, but Derek, the little sneaky wolf that he seems to have become, follows them. It isn't until halfway through that John, the human, realizes his presence first.

They move forward with the determined little boy, who is all sopping wet in his wolf onesie, and really, this is no laughing matter. Except it is.

Claudia is brought below the Nemeton, and the tree, big and branching and beautiful, hums in their presence. The canopy of it sheds them some, but not completely.

And so, under hard rain and sharp thunderstorms, Mieczysław Stilinski is born, his little body almost white under the moonlight, and his eyes, when they open, a shock of topaz, like a glinting jewel; a fallen angel, Peter thinks.

Derek carefully wraps the baby in the blanket Talia removes from the packed bag, her movements locked onto her son's and the baby's, while John tends to his wife.

Peter watches. He notes the way the baby is calmest in Derek's arms, the way Derek is mesmerized.

This is more than just being True Mates.

True Mates itself are the rarest of occurrences, but something tells him this is more than that. The earthquake, and this sudden rain, in April of all things, simply cannot be coincidence. There must be a reason, one that Peter must uncover.

In the coming years, he dedicates his time to the quest, and finds that, oh, this is something unique indeed.

Unique to the point of legend.

Of course, he gathers facts before telling anyone. Derek's control goes onto the list, as does his ability to switch between his shift as easy as breathing. Having such control at the age of seven is almost impossible, but he has it without the growing ego that would have inflated anyone else's with the amount of praise he gets.

Stiles, as Derek had nicknamed Mieczysław almost immediately post his arrival in the world, is no human. His mother's line has some pretty strong magical abilities, but the kind of power that this boy exudes surpasses imagination. Nobody notices at first, not even Peter, until Stiles is a couple of months past his third birthday. It truly isn't until Derek, almost nine, comes down from his room one day into the kitchen, says, "Which packet, Stiles?" that they realize it.

"Honey, he isn't a wolf. He cannot hear you," Nathan tells him, but Derek just shrugs.

"He is for today."

Peter hears the, "Blue one! Blue one! Blue is sooo pretty, Derek!" from Stiles, who is definitely sitting in Derek's room, upstairs.

Derek grabs the blue packet and goes upstairs, and Peter follows, followed by Talia and Nathan, who beckon Claudia as well.

Stiles sitting on the floor, a myriad of toys around him, while the packets of chips sit beside him, torn open, evidently by Derek's claws, who himself is playing with Stiles.

And they're both being fed flying chips.

The three wolves turn to Claudia as one. Her shaking head and awed face is enough to clue them in, and really, Peter thinks, this is fucking incredible.

Powers don't manifest as early as this in magic wielders. They're more of the puberty package, tied to emotions at the beginning rather than will.

This is... defying it.

Peter loves to see when the next piece of the puzzle will fall.

And it does oh so enticingly.

Years later, when Derek is fourteen and Stiles is almost nine, comes the first trial. The Alpha Summit & The Argent Treaty.

Peter doesn't believe Gerard's words to do no harm, so he sets up precautions in place. It pays off, because during the summit, he almost ends up blinding Deaucalion — something that could have turned super bad if left unchecked.

Gerard's attack is met with swift retaliation, but somehow, only his goons end up dead. Gerard himself remains free, and through sheer will, maybe, the old man manages to kidnap Laura.

By the time the adults sniff out their cub, they're too late.

Not in the sense of Laura being hurt, but in the terms of missing the action, somewhat.

When they enter the warehouse, they are faced with Gerard being held down by a black wolf, fangs around his neck, the eyes of the creature a deep, ruby red. Deeper than Talia's. At first, they all assume it to be one of the visiting Alphas, but then they realize Stiles' presence, too, and it clicks.

Stiles frees Laura from the painful looking electric rod, and comes back to Derek, coaxes him back to his human form as Peter and Nathan take care of the psychopath.

Laura lets Talia mother her, and then says, "We'll have two Alphas."

Talia looks at the now human Derek, and eyes shining with pride, she nods. "Come here, both of you," she beckons, and the boys run, Stiles' chattering a comforting sound for all of them.

A few weeks later, Derek admits to everyone he has a new friend, and talks about her often. Paige this, Paige that. Laura teases him, restrained in her words, trying not to upset Derek's control. Even Cora pulls back. Stiles, though, is almost worse.

He riles Derek to the point of him using his Alpha voice to shut up, and the whole Pack silences itself, even Talia. Stiles, though — an exception to all things sane — doesn't back down. The voice doesn't work on him, and Derek isn't phased by it. However, the smell of guilt filters through their home, and Stiles' sigh is followed by comforting words. There is no apologizing though.

Soon, they'll learn from Derek himself that he hates that everyone is walking on eggshells. That is why he kept bringing up Paige, so that someone would tease him, uncle Peter, Laura, Cora. Or that Stiles would rile him up.

"Why would he, though? He should be happy for you. I am." Cora's words are met with a laugh from Derek, and a groan of embarrassement from Stiles.

"He's weirdly possessive — don't push me, you know you are."

"Alright," Stiles sighs, "I am."

"And Paige is a great friend, but I don't nearly think about her as much as I might have let you all believe."

And that is when Peter sees it. The blink-and-you-will-miss-it purple flash of Stiles' eyes. Peter doesn't put thought into why now; he simply focuses on completing the puzzle.

And he does. True Alpha and Purple Eyes? That's easy.

That's legend.

Set in stone as the first Alpha and the first Emissary as well as Spark, who, arguably, also set in stone the sword of Excalibur.

That part of the legend has questionable sources, though. Sure, Merlin Emrys is, as per theories, the most powerful sorcerer of all time, and Arthur Pendragon the greatest ruler, the once and future king, but it doesn't have as much merit.

What Peter is sure about is that somehow, the Powers That Be decided that this is the pack to send these two to.

He watches Stiles argue about the best type of pasta with Derek, and thinks, suddenly, that perhaps this is their happy ending. What legends end happy? None. So this must be their time to be happy.

Peter vows another quest, then. To always protect Derek and Stiles.

[cloudbends]

[ID: a digital drawing in two parts, depicting characters from pokemon horizons, facing with their back to the viewer: the first drawing depicts the three original explorers heading away towards the light, as lucius hugs rystal and gibeon's shoulders. the second drawing depicts liko and amethio, their descendants, standing still and facing the light. end ID.]

"our adventure isn't over yet, isn't that right?"

[phantomrose96]

"Sorry boss it's just been a really hard day to focus at work. Yeah it's just every single person in the group chat knows how we could have fixed BNHA."

[mammalsofaction]

Y'know what would be really funny? If each of the Flynn Fletcher siblings KNOW/have suspicions about Perry's secret, but they each keep it to themselves for individual reasons. It's been pointed out before that Perry can get REALLY reckless sometimes, and other times the boys are too clever/know Perry way too well.

-CANDACE has actually seen and interacted with Perry in secret agent mode, particularly during the time she thought she was high off her rocker and Perry had to save her from a self destructing volcano. She's had dreams where Perry was a secret agent in them.

-She doesn't bring it up or think about it much bc she just has like. A lot of other more pressing priorities most of the time, which is so valid. Also I lowkey thinks she suspects she's got a hallucination problem, like with the Zebra? I get why she doesn't talk about it out loud: she sounds crazy enough to her mother as is without suddenly talking about how their exotic pet is a sentient secret agent in a fedora.

-FERB figured it out almost immediately that day he and Phineas accidentally fell into Perry's lair and they pretended to be "secret agents" for the day. HE knows he didnt make that lair. Everything was almost toddler sized, but functionally and professionally equipped for a working adult. There were only two "P" s in the family, and it clearly wasn't Phineas. Also? Everything was Platypus themed. He put two and two together.

-I figure he doesn't talk about it bc he lowkey knows why Perry doesn't tell them. He and Phineas have a lot of faith in Perry, and Ferb is a lot less emotional. If Perry refuses to tell them about his double life and where he goes, hes just gonna trust him.

-Im pretty sure PHINEAS subconsciously knows about the secret agent thing. From where? Africa. He 💯 spotted Perry in secret agent mode on the other side of the gulf while hanging from that vine, and between his siblings Phineas is CLEARLY the one who knows what Perry looks like best. He can pick Perry out from colour and smell from every other brown eyed teal platypus in the entire tri-state area. He not only recognizes his paw prints: he knows Perry's healthy weight distribution on them to know whether or not hes injured or limping. Like....my boy can be oblivious and autistic 98% of the time, but Phin is also REALLY self aware and trusting of his own eyes and instincts.

-He doesn't talk about it because hes in denial 👍

[pummelingbat]

Persecution Complex, or: "Just You, Me, And The Weight Of Your Dead Girlfriend Between Us"

[seleneprince]

0 | PROLOGUE

m.list

??? POV

They say that when you’re about to die, your whole life flashes before your eyes—like a fast movie. Or a TikTok reel, skipping through your childhood and toward the present.

Apparently, it's meant to show you the mistakes you made before that moment. The things you did—or worse, didn’t. So you can spend your last moments filled with regrets. Sweet, isn't it?

Personally, I don't think that's true. At least, not for everyone. When you're about to die, you spend the last minutes you have left retracing the steps and decisions that led you here, one by one. Then, the epiphany hits: this was always going to happen. You’ve been heading toward this direction all along.

I know because that's what's happening to me right now. I'm dying.

Well—not technically. A more accurate description would be: I’m falling to my death. I estimate five seconds, at maximum, until I hit the ground and my time is over. After all, how many people survive falling from a tenth-floor window? Not many. Unless you got superpowers or a parachute, which sadly, is not my case. I'm a just a regular human.

Well, scratch that. I’m stronger, smarter, and generally more capable than most humans. But I still have limits—unnerving, frustrating limits. The kind that come with... being just human. Like weakness against gravity. It's so annoying sometimes.

Now more than ever, of course. Oh well...not like it matters anymore, I guess.

It’s not my first time falling from a considerable height—or being pushed from one—but usually, I can grab unto something before the worst happens. Or, even better, push them off instead. But this time, as soon as I felt the window's glass shattering against my back, I knew there was no saving this time. No ledge to grab. No lucky balcony to break the fall. Just air. And gravity doing its job too well.

My body barely twists mid-air, still reeling from the blast that threw me out of the damn window in the first place. But because instincts are hard to turn off, my limbs flail on reflex, like it'll help, even when I'm plummeting to my death.

It's amazing, really—how the brain still tries its damn hardest to keep you alive, even when you’ve mentally accepted the end already. Muscles tighten. Hands flail uselessly. Eyes looking for miracles.

But I know there are no miracles for me today. Never again.

So instead, I use my last moments to think. Think about all the decisions that led up to this. The arguments. The ambitions. The mistakes. The betrayal. The familiar warmth of rage boiling in my blood when I lunged. The delicious rush of adrenaline as I made them bleed, as I took out all my frustrations on their bones until the end.

I think about how part of me knew this was how it would end. Not necessarily the fall, but what it led to it. That part had been a long time coming.

And weirdly... I’m not really scared. I’m pissed, that's for sure—and in a lot of pain. Mildly satisfied too. It's not like I wanted to die young, but I always figured that when it happened, I’d go out in a blaze of something cool. And a fragmentation-EMP hybrid bomb? Yeah, that's cool as fuck. Bond-movie level cool.

The fact that it was built from my own design just adds a special flavour of irony to it.

Shame I can't have this moment recorded in video. Make it slow-motion and it could be used as a sick-ass scene for an action movie's trailer. Or played for my funeral. That would be awesome.

After everything that's happened, it just feels right. The perfect goodbye.

And yet...there's something that bothers me. A lot.

As my body goes down faster and the icy realization of my uncoming demise crashes over me, I think of my mom. My little siblings. Alfred. Duke. Even my dad...not the biological one, but the first one I had. The only one I've had.

I think of my friends, my life, everything I built...and now I'm leaving behind. Unfinished.

I can see my mom crying when she finds out, sobbing in that way she hasn't allowed herself to since she got married. She’ll break. She’ll be told that her daughter—her firstborn, her pride—is dead. Torn from her. And no one will be there to hold her the way she needs. No one will be there to comfort her through her raw pain and grief.

Alfred will try, I know he will. But there are parts of her grief he won’t be able to reach. The twins—my baby siblings—they’re too young. They’ve never had to carry that kind of emotional weight. And my father…yeah, she'll be alone in this.

I can see my little brother and sister hearing the news. Alfred will have to tell them, because mom would've entered a state of shock. Or maybe she tells them herself, pulling through the sorrow to do what she must, as she's always done.

They'll be confused at first, would demand to know more. Marco will definitely ask to see the truth for himself, and my sister—god, my little angel. She will rage. Against who killed me, against the system, against the world, against everyone and anyone she thinks have played a role in my death. And then, she will break down. Marco will follow her as soon as the reality dawns on him. As soon as he realises that I'm really not coming back.

Dad might hear about it from Arkham. If the news makes it through. Maybe he’ll cry, too. Maybe he’ll kill someone for it. If things were different, he would be by mom's side when it happens, and she would someone to rely on, to share the burden.

Alfred will be sad too, in his own way. He doesn't show his emotions as openly, but I know he loves me. Loves us all. He's watched me grow, taught me so many useful things...shit, I'll miss him too.

And Duke...oh shit, Duke. My best friend in that house, my other brother. The only one of them that never made me feel like shit. The only one I have never wanted to kill at some point. We were supposed to go to the arcade today, after his patrol was over. He doesn't know I'm here—he planned to pick me up from my rehearsal after he was done. Now, he might be the one to find my body first when The Signal comes to assess the incident. Maybe he'll be the one to pass the news to my family.

Oh God.

And now—finally—I start to cry. Of course this is what makes me break down. Not the pain. Not the inevitability of death. But the sheer, overwhelming reality that I never got to say goodbye.

And it's not fucking fair.

I know that people rarely get to say goodbye in this line of work, because we never know when our time has come until it punches us in the face and breaks it. But still…I believed I’d get the chance. That maybe—just maybe—the universe would make an exception for me.

Guess Duke was right, after all. I can be a bit too arrogant sometimes.

He was right about a lot of things, actually.

My body finally crashes, and the pain—god, the pain—hits me like an earthquake ripping through every nerve ending I have. I feel my bones shattering and pressing against my insides. It steals the air from my lungs, leaves me speechless for solid minutes.

I can’t even scream.

It’s like my entire being is on fire, burning in pure, unfiltered agony. I’ve been through plenty of shit. I’ve endured enough pain to build a high tolerance to it. I’ve fought through injuries that would’ve taken others out for good. But this?

Fuck.

This is different. This is worse than anything I've ever had. It's torture. Every breath I take it's like stabbing my lungs. I already taste blood on my tongue. My own damn blood.

And all I can do now is hope it ends quickly.

As I lay there, motionless among the ruins and shards of the shattered window that came down with me, I realize I’ve landed in an alley. It’s quiet—eerily so. Not even rats scurry nearby.

Somehow, I muster just enough strength to turn my head and glimpse the sky. Still early, it seems. Weird. It feels like I’ve been stuck in that warehouse for days.

The twins' classes will be over soon. Will Mom pick them up today, or Alfred? And how long will it take the GCPD or paramedics to arrive?

I strain my ears, trying to catch the wail of sirens from afar, but even that miserable effort sends a wave of pain through me that makes me close my eyes.

It’s getting harder to breathe. My heartbeat’s slowing down. I know what this means.

I’m dying.

Minutes left—maybe less, if God decides to be merciful for once.

Somewhere far away, I think I hear children laughing in the street. And my mind—traitorous, gentle—drifts to the twins. My baby siblings. I wonder if they got into trouble today. I wonder how long will it take them to move on from this. I wonder what kind of people they'll grow up into.

I see Mom's face as well. Her beautiful smile, her eyes full of warmth just for us. The strongest, bravest woman I've known. My idol. The person I look up to the most. The one I strived to become.

I wonder how she'll receive the news. I wonder if she'll resent me from not listening to her and causing her this grief, after everything she's already lost. Or if she'll mourn me in silence just to keep her facade, for the twins' sake, because they still need her.

I wonder if she’ll decorate my grave the way she decorated my first room—lovingly, meticulously, pouring all her devotion into it like it is the only thing she can control.

I hope they're fine. I hope, if there's something else after this, that I get to watch them from afar. Make sure they're okay until we meet again.

But as darkness begins to cloak my vision, and my body grows heavier—sleepier—there’s a small part of me that wails. Crying out in desperation, because she doesn’t want to die yet.

She’s scared. Terrified. She’s not ready to leave this world behind. Not yet.

Not the people we love. Not the memories. Not the laughter, the warmth, the mess of it all.

She wants to live.

Even now, even here—she still wants to live.

I still want to live.

That's my last though before my eyes shut completely, with warm tears running down my cheeks, and the blood soaking my clothes.

...............

.......

What's that light at the end? Is it the sun, or the gates?

[bestanimal]

Round 3 - Mammalia - Carnivora

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Our next order of mammals is Carnivora, mammals specialized primarily in eating meat. A diverse order, Carnivora contains the living families Canidae (“dogs”), Ursidae (“bears”), Phocidae (“earless seals”), Otariidae (“eared seals”), Odobenidae (“Walrus”), Mephitidae (“skunks” and “stink badgers”), Ailuridae (“Red Panda”), Procyonidae (“raccoons”, “coatis”, “ringtails”, “kinkajous”, and kin), Mustelidae (“weasels”, “badgers”, “otters”, “Wolverine”, and kin), Nandiniidae (“African Palm Civet”), Viverridae (“civets”, “genets”, “Binturong”, and kin), Herpestidae (“mongooses”), Eupleridae (“Malagasy mongooses”), Hyaenidae (“hyenas”), Prionodontidae (“Asiatic linsangs”), and Felidae (“cats”).

As the sixth largest order of mammals, Carnivora is very diverse and exhibits a wide array of body plans, varying greatly in size and shape. They usually have large, conical, thick, stress-resistant canine teeth. Most species have eyes on the front of their face, pointing forward. They often have a very well-developed sense of smell. Some carnivorans have retractile or semi-retractile claws. Carnivora is separated into two suborders, Caniformia and Feliformia, with Caniforms containing canids and their relatives and Feliforms containing felids and their relatives. (Yes, even in taxonomy, there is a dichotomy between cats and dogs.) Caniforms have longer jaws and more teeth, with less specialized carnassial teeth. They also tend more towards omnivory and opportunistic feeding, while the feliforms, other than the viverrids, are more specialized for eating meat. Some carnivorans have secondarily evolved mainly herbivorous diets. They exist in almost every habitat, from the polar North to hyper-arid deserts to marine seas.

Male carnivorans are usually larger than females. Some species are social while others are solitary. Some species only meet to mate, some form family groups organized around a breeding pair, and some involve a single male or males leading a harem of females and their young. Carnivores usually invest a lot into their young, teaching and raising them to adulthood.

Carnivoramorpha as a whole first appeared in the Paleocene of North America about 60 million years ago, as small marten-like or civet-like predators of insects, lizards, and other small vertebrates. Feliforms and Caniforms split around the Middle Eocene, about 42 million years ago. The precursors to the living feliforms remained forest-dwelling, arboreal or semi-arboreal ambush hunters, while the caniform precursors were more mobile, opportunistic hunters.

Propaganda under the cut:

Canids tend to live as monogamous pairs. Wolves (Canis lupus), Coyotes (Canis latrans), African Wild Dogs (Lycaon pictus), and Dholes (Cuon alpinus) live in groups that include a breeding pair and their offspring. Wolves may even live in extended family groups. Living in family groups allows these animals to work together to take down prey larger than themselves.

The Domestic Dog (Canis familiaris) was the first species to be domesticated by humans, from the Wolf (Canis lupus), more than 30,000 ago when humans were still hunter-gatherers. Domestic Dogs have evolved alongside humans, adapting to better understand and communicate with us, read human body language and expressions, and smell human emotions. Both dogs and humans release oxytocin while spending quality time together, a sign of a strong social bond. Over 340 breeds of Domestic Dog have been selectively bred for tasks such as hunting, herding, pulling loads, detecting a variety of scents, protection, and companionship, with various breeds also filling roles in therapy, aiding disabled people, and assisting police and the military.

According to the Creation Myths of the Serer People, jackals were the first animals on Earth, and the first intelligent beings before humans, and will be the last. In some stories, the jackal is sent to Earth by Roog as a messenger, and in others as a fallen prophet for disobeying the laws of the divine. The movements of the jackal are carefully observed, because the animal is viewed as a seer who came from the transcendence and maintains links with it. Although believed to be rejected by the other animals and deprived of its original intelligence, it is still respected because it dared to resist the supreme being who still keeps it alive.

The Polar Bear (Ursus maritimus) is the largest land carnivore, with adult males weighing 300–800 kg (660–1,760 lb) and being 200–250 cm (6.6–8.2 ft) long. Females are smaller at 180–200 cm (5.9–6.6 ft) with a weight of 150–300 kg (330–660 lb). Adults may stand 130–160 cm (4.3–5.2 ft) tall at the shoulder. The largest Polar Bear on record, reportedly weighing 1,002 kg (2,209 lb), was a male shot at Kotzebue Sound in northwestern Alaska in 1960.

The word “panda” derives from the Nepali word “ponya”, which means “ball of the foot” and “claws”. The Nepali word for the endangered Red Panda (Ailurus fulgens) is "nigalya ponya", which has been translated as "bamboo-footed", due to the animal’s adapted wrist bone which allows it to grip bamboo. When the Red Panda was first described in 1825, it was named an English shortening of this name: “panda.” For more than 40 years the Red Panda was known as simply the panda: the one and only panda. However, when the vulnerable Giant Panda (Ailuropoda melanoleuca) was described in 1869, it was also given the name panda. Historically, there was much debate over the taxonomic positions of these two species, as they were both carnivorans that had adapted to a very specific diet of mostly bamboo. However, we know today that the Giant Panda is indeed a bear and not closely related to the Red Panda, which is the only living member of its own family.

The endangered Giant Otter (Pteronura brasiliensis) is a semi-aquatic predator of north-central South America, and is capable of bringing down animals as tough as a small caiman. Giant Otters live in extended family groups, and are highly social with each other, but extremely territorial of other groups. Battles between groups sometimes break out at the boundaries between territories.

Weasels (genus Mustela) have a behavior called the “weasel war dance”, which consists of a frenzied series of hops sideways and backwards, often accompanied by an arched back and a frizzed-out tail. The weasel war dance happens when the animal is excited or happy, and often occurs after they have caught or killed their prey, or are playing.

Ferrets (Mustela furo) were domesticated from the European Polecat (Mustela putorius) around 2,500 years ago. The Romans used ferrets to hunt rabbits, rodents, and moles, as they are specifically adapted to squeeze into holes after prey. Genghis Khan, ruler of the Mongol Empire, is recorded as using an army of ferrets in a gigantic hunt in 1221 that aimed to purge an entire region of wild animals.

The smallest carnivoran is the Least Weasel (Mustela nivalis). Average body length (not counting the tail) in males is 130 to 260 mm (5 to 10.2 in), while females average 114 to 204 mm (4.5 to 8 in). Males weigh 36 to 250 g (1.3 to 8.8 oz), while females weigh 29 to 117 g (1 to 4.1 oz). Despite their diminutive size, Least Weasels are still effective predators, and can take on prey up to the size of a rabbit.

The North American Black-footed Ferret (Mustela nigripes) declined throughout the 20th century, primarily as a result of declines of its main prey, Prairie Dogs (genus Cynomys). In 1979, it was declared extinct. However, a small wild population was discovered in Meeteetse, Wyoming in 1981! A captive breeding program was launched, using these ferrets, and a reintroduction campaign was put into play. Today, over 200 mature individuals are in the wild across 18 populations, with four self-sustaining populations in South Dakota, Arizona, and Wyoming. In 2008, the Black-footed Ferret’s IUCN status was changed from “extinct in the wild” to “endangered”. In February 2021, the first successful clone of a Black-footed Ferret, a female named Elizabeth Ann, was introduced to the public. She was cloned using frozen cells from Willa, a female Black-footed Ferret who died in the 1980s and had no living descendants. This exciting development opened the doors to a new option for introducing much-needed genetic diversity into the captive breeding population. Elizabeth Ann could not breed herself, due to a condition unrelated to the cloning process, but in 2024, two new Black-Footed Ferret clones, Noreen and Antonia, were also cloned from Willa’s frozen cells. Antonia has since birthed a male and female kit, and Noreen is waiting for a suitable match.

The Honey Badger (Mellivora capensis) is famous for its strength, ferocity, and toughness. It is known for being able to fearlessly fight back when cornered, sometimes even dissuading Lions (Panthera leo) and Spotted Hyenas (Crocuta crocuta) from attacking it. It often raids beehives in search of honey and larvae, and is unbothered by bee stings, which have trouble penetrating its thick skin. They have been observed to kill and eat Black Mambas (Dendroaspis polylepis). They are also highly intelligent, and have been observed manipulating tools and performing complex problem-solving. Despite all this, they are only dangerous to humans if provoked, and most of their reputation comes from their willingness to defend themselves.

There are three species of raccoon, and the small, critically endangered Cozumel Raccoon (Procyon pygmaeus) is the rarest of them. It is native only to Cozumel Island off the coast of the Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico. It is estimated there are only around 192 mature individuals left in the world.

Walruses (Odobenus rosmarus) have powerful, mobile lips that they can use to generate high-powered suction. They do this to feed on one of their favorite prey items: clams. A Walrus can suck the meat out of a clam by sealing its powerful lips to the animal’s shell and withdrawing its piston-like tongue rapidly into its mouth, creating a vacuum. They can also use their mobile lips to whistle in the same way humans do!

The Baikal Seal (Pusa sibirica) is the only species of exclusively freshwater seal. They are native only to Lake Baikal in Siberia, Russia. The most recognizable characteristic of the Baikal Seal is its large, dark eyes. Lake Baikal is the deepest lake in the world, and has varying levels of light intensity. The seal’s large eyes allow it to take in as much light as possible in this environment.

The African Palm Civet (Nandinia binotata) is the most genetically isolated Carnivoran, being the only species within its whole superfamily.

The Jaguar (Panthera onca) employs an unusual killing method: it bites directly through the skull of mammalian prey, between the ears, to deliver a fatal blow to the brain. It does this with a powerful bite force of 1,500 PSI. This bite also allows it to pierce the shells of turtles and the osteoderms of caimans.

When Cecil the male African Lion (Panthera leo leo) was killed in July 2015 by Walter Palmer, an American recreational big-game trophy hunter, there was international uproar and a change in the atmosphere regarding trophy hunting. There was also worry amongst the scientists who had been studying Cecil’s pride that his cubs were now in danger. When one or more new male Lions replace a previous male(s) associated with a pride, they often kill any existing young cubs, to ensure that only their bloodline is produced going forward. However, Cecil had formed a partnership with another male lion named Jericho. When Cecil was killed, Jericho took over the pride but did not kill Cecil’s cubs, and also protected them from any rivals.

The Domestic Cat (Felis catus) was domesticated from the African Wildcat (Felis lybica) about 10,000 years ago. Ancient Egyptians revered the Domestic Cat, and families would take their dead cats to the sacred city of Bubastis, where they were embalmed and buried in sacred repositories. Cats eventually replaced Ferrets as the pest-controlling housepet of choice in Ancient Greece and Rome, as they were considered more pleasant to keep around the house. Like dogs, they have adapted to live alongside us, evolving new vocalizations, body language, and behaviors specifically for communicating with humans, and generally becoming a social species (the African Wildcat is typically solitary and territorial). Today, there are over 41 breeds of Domestic Cat, and they are kept mainly for companionship and pest control. Unfortunately, they have also become one of the most abandoned pets.

The Cheetah (Acinonyx jubatus) is regarded as the fastest-running land animal. It is capable of running at 93 to 104 km/h (58 to 65 mph) in a sprint.

The Asian Palm Civet (Paradoxurus hermaphroditus) is threatened by poaching and the illegal wildlife trade in Indonesia. They are captured for use in the production of kopi luwak. Kopi luwak, also known as civet coffee, is a coffee that consists of partially digested coffee cherries, which have been eaten and defecated by the Asian Palm Civet. The cherries are fermented as they pass through a civet's intestines, and after being defecated with other fecal matter, they are collected. What was once a traditional drink, made from coffee cherries collected from civet feces in the wild, has become increasingly commercialized due to international demand and curiosity. Now, to meet demand, Asian Palm Civets are captured, kept in battery cages, and forcefed nothing but coffee cherries. The civets in kopi luwak farms are kept in abysmal conditions which include isolation, poor diet, small cages, and a high mortality rate. Kopi luwak is one of the most expensive coffees in the world, with retail prices reaching US$100 per kilogram (2.2 lbs) for farmed beans and US$1,300 per kilogram for wild-collected beans.

In some countries, the African Civet (Civettictis civetta) (image 4) is threatened by capture for the perfume industry, as its pheromone civetone is often used as a natural musk. The Calvin Klein-brand male cologne Obsession utilizes synthetic civetone, making the cologne highly attractive to feliforms. Obsession is sometimes used in the field to attract wild cats to camera traps, and is also used in zoos and sanctuaries as scent enrichment.

Mongooses (family Herpestidae) are one of at least four known mammalian taxa with mutations in the nicotinic acetylcholine receptor that protect against snake venom. This makes them fierce and effective predators of venomous snakes.

The Spotted Hyena (Crocuta crocuta) lives in large clans which can consist of up to 80 individuals. These clans are typically led by females, though they can occasionally co-dominate with a male. Clans are run by a matriarch, and her youngest female cub will become the new matriarch when she passes. When a male co-dominates with a female or is otherwise able to lead, this is because the male was born to the matriarch of the clan and has taken the rank directly below his mother.

The Aardwolf (Proteles cristatus) is a small, basal hyena that mainly eats termites. Like other animals adapted for eating termites, it has a long, sticky tongue.

Carnivorans usually occupy a very important part of the ecosystem, and most apex predators are carnivorans. Apex predators can be considered ecosystem engineers, due to the huge impact they have on their environment. One of the most famous examples of this was the reintroduction of Wolves (Canis lupus) in Yellowstone National Park. In 1884, the state of Montana instituted a bounty on Wolves: one dollar per Wolf killed. Wolves were considered a “menace” to Yellowstone’s wildlife, and more concerted efforts mounted to exterminate them. The Elk (Cervus canadensis) population began to explode, and they grazed their way across the landscape, killing young brush and trees. As early as the 1930s, scientists were alarmed by the degradation and were worried about erosion and plants dying off. By the 1970s, there were no resident populations of Wolves in Yellowstone, and Wolves had been almost completely eradicated in the lower 48 states. In 1974, the Wolf was listed in the endangered species act.

Starting in January 1995, Wolves from Canada began to be relocated to Yellowstone National Park. In the years that followed, wolves brought the Elk population down and their presence protected the open valleys from overgrazing, as the fear of predators kept the herds on the move. Willows (genus Salix) began to grow larger, with an increase in size of 1,500% by 2020. With the foliage returning to the park, Beavers (Castor canadensis), Lynxes (Felis lynx canadensis), Wolverines (Gulo gulo) (image 1), and many other formerly reduced species began to rebound. Beaver colonies have grown from 1 in 1995 to 19 by 2015 with four active dams in use. The dams build wetland ecosystems, used by millions of other species. This is an enduring example of a Trophic Cascade: a powerful indirect interaction that can control entire ecosystems, occurring when a trophic level in a food web is removed or added.

Even though domestic carnivorans like the Domestic Dog, Domestic Cat, and to a lesser extent, the Ferret, are some of the most popular pets in the world, most wild carnivorans have been, and still are, unfairly demonized. Many species have been overhunted, resulting in extirpation in some areas. Even early “conservationists” did not understand the value of predators, considering it a boon to the ecosystem to wipe them out entirely. Bounties are still placed on carnivorans today, and many ranchers and farmers push to have them completely wiped out to protect their livestock. If you cross the border of Yellowstone into a nearby town, you must be ready to hear all about how Wolves are evil creatures who kill for pleasure, and are going to kill all the precious Elk. It is a constant uphill battle to reintroduce carnivorans who may have been extirpated from their historical ranges. Yet in some places, humans have learned to coexist with these important parts of the ecosystem. One of the best ways to support carnivorans is through ecotourism. Locals tend to see more value in the predators they have to share space with when visitors are both excited about and bringing in tourism revenue because of these animals.

[hoshiina]

pairing: narumi gen x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he's always thought that anyone would do if he just wanted to find love but he realizes you're the one he wishes for, inspired by pop song by yonezu kenshi

warnings: some profanities from narumi

wc: 1300

Narumi Gen hated a lot of things, but one of his least favourites of all time was "true love". He despised when people would describe their love for another as "true love". It couldn't possibly be that serious. Just say you loved your partner. That was probably the extent feelings got to anyways— you just so happened to like each other at the same time. To him that was plenty of a feat alone, why would you have to make it sound like more than it is? For the sake of love? Ridiculous.

To him, that was truly all love was. If there was someone who liked him when he happened to like them too, that was enough. No need for years of pining, no need to get attached to some unrequited love. All that noise about love and destiny surely wasn't all that necessary.

Now, this wasn't to say that he didn't wish to find love— because he did. Like any other person, he truly wished to be loved. It was just that what he had in mind wasn't some deep pure love that'd last forever, nor was it a promise for eternity. He just wished for a light-hearted "I love you" here and there with someone he found special.

And for that, anyone would do. He'd find someone who fancied him along the way, and hopefully he'd like them back. That was all there was to it.

This meant his plan for finding his partner was sitting around and waiting. As horribly lame as that sounded, because he was Narumi Gen, this wasn't that hopeless of a plan. So, that's what he did. He'd go around saving people and doing his duties (to the absolute bare minimum) while making sure he was constantly trending, hoping that one day, someone would like him.

Today he was standing around for a solid five extra minutes after he defeated the honju with ease, hoping the media would snap some nice pictures of him, or he'd finally charm someone this time.

"Captain, you ought to stop that," you said. "It's rather embarrassing, you look desperate now."

"Oh, would you shut up," he said. "You're ruining my good name!"

You snorted. "What good name," you scoffed.

"I'm starting to think its your fault I'm not charming anyone. Perhaps if you didn't stop me every time, someone would have found me by now," he said.

"Yeah, right. Captain Ashiro seems to be having no issues charming people and I've never seen her try to," you said.

"You little shit," he said.

"Besides they're going to be utterly disappointed if they think this is what you're like and then they find out what you're… actually like," you said, and he was starting to think you wanted him to fire you. "It's okay. Someone will see how you're actually lovely at times soon."

"What?" he asked, shocked by what you said.

"What?" you replied, confused.

"You— you said lovely," he said quietly. Suddenly he felt flustered.

"Oh," you said, looking away and avoiding eye contact. It wasn't like you didn't mean to say that, but you didn't think it was that big of a deal. Rather, how flustered he sounded took you by surprise. “Well, you’re a little lame but you’re a good guy. Like you pretend you only do it for the media, but I know you’re always checking the alleyways that don’t have as much surveillance just in case, and checking alleyways isn’t something a captain has to do. And we both know the media isn’t writing about anything you do there. Things like that.”

“You never know!” he said, and you snorted.

“Alright then,” you said. “You do you, Captain.”

“I will!” he said back, trying to sound proud.

A week had passed and here he was, doing what he always did after arriving fashionably late to the scene and taking all the kaiju out in a matter of minutes: standing around trying to look good. Because he wanted love, and anyone would do. Anyone who liked him was supposed to do.

...

And yet he wished for you.

He wished that when he woke up, the first thing he would see was you. He wished that you'd smile at him everyday with love and genuine joy the way you did to others, and he wished that you’d smile that way to him alone. He wished that after a long day, he was the one you came home to. He wished from the bottom of his heart that you would always be safe and no harm would ever come your way. He wished that your days were filled with laughter and smiles and he knew he would risk his life to protect that.

It was so unlike him in a way he absolutely hated. True love was supposed to be nonsense and someone being ‘the one’ was supposed to be some dramatic line in a movie. It upset him, that he was so utterly fond of you. Yet, no matter how much it upset him, it didn't change the fact that he was, and he couldn't deny it anymore after trying to ignore it for the full week.

So here he was, acting stupid again, hoping that you’d scold him again or tell him he’s embarrassing himself, because that’s what it’s come down to. He just wanted another reason to talk to you.

But you wouldn’t come to stop him after 10 whole minutes.

“Why aren’t you stopping me?” he asked, irritated.

“Pardon?” you asked, utterly confused.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop?” he asked again. He was aware how silly he sounded, but he was pissed off that you meant so much to him so he had to take it out on you.

“Because you told me to stop last time??” you replied. “I thought you were going to keep this up until you found yourself a partner.”

“You’re the one who told me to find someone that saw how I was…. lovely…. at times,” he said, but said the lovely very quietly. Remembering that you had described him as lovely made his cheeks burn and he’d rather die than let you see that.

“I mean, yeah. I do think you should,” you said.

“Don’t you notice, though?” he asked quietly, avoiding eye contact. There was a moment of silence.

“I do,” you said, and immediately he looked up to face you. You had a grin on your face and you looked so proud— you looked like you had won a game. Oh, how he hated you.

“You’re so annoying,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Rich coming from you,” you said.

“So, do you—,” he started to yell before cutting himself off. Carefully, he tried again. “Would you please… uh… be mine…?”

Oh, this is so embarrassing, he thought. Perhaps you’d laugh at him, but he wanted to do this properly, or at the very least try to. He’d be far more than just stupid to mess this up now. He was finally in love.

But your laughter never came. When he looked up your eyes were wide and you looked so flustered, but soon you had the most beautiful smile on your face.

“I would absolutely love to,” you said.

So he kissed you right then and there, because there was nothing he wanted to do more at the moment.

He laughed a little.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“No, nothing,” he said.

There was no way just anyone would do— it had to be you.

[monocytogenes]

Illario Dellamorte and the role of First Talon

I've read a lot of speculation on the tags as to why Caterina favors Lucanis over Illario as her successor. While I know Veilguard offers its own implications, given that @nirikeehan and I have been writing a worldstate based solely off of pre-VG sources--such as The Wigmaker Job and Eight Little Talons--I got curious as to what those sources specifically tell us about Illario's talents and Caterina's likely perspective on the role.

Illario's Virtues

What qualities does Illario have going for him?

Illario is incredibly charismatic, in a striking and deliberate way. We learn from Lucanis’ perspective that Illario actively weaponizes his appearance and manner to great effect.

His “pretty-boy mask” seems to be more of a tool than a genuine facet of his personality, a costume he puts on to gain admiration from others and accomplish ends. He does seem to have a real interest in fashion (and, well, cleanliness, given the number of times he’s clearly put out by gore, and the scene where Lucanis expects to find him at the cleanest tavern at the docks), but he’s able to easily paint over the feelings of annoyance, frustration, and brotherly mischief he readily shows his cousin when he’s out to engineer a situation. Lucanis is grudgingly impressed by his skill.

I also love this little scene where Illario takes the lead on bluffing an approaching assassin, giving less socially adept Lucanis an effective opener and adding realistic sound effects. He has enough imagination to craft a convincing scenario on the spot and kick off some naturalistic banter.

We also learn that, though he can improvise, Illario is someone who values plans and active communication. He is clearly annoyed that Lucanis is playing things by ear after they discover Ambrose knows they’re coming, and working tactics out in his own head without informing him of what’s next.

A lot of Illario’s complaints, snarkiness towards Lucanis, and desire to find some joy in the job seems to be a response to this active exclusion (despite Lucanis viewing it as Illario’s unwillingness to work.)

Illario wants to actively discuss things—perhaps to swap ideas and collaborate better—and really prods at Lucanis when he’s unwilling to do that.

Frankly, I think the most interesting narrative dynamic in TWJ is how, given that we’re in Lucanis’ perspective, Illario at first does appear somewhat flippant and unserious, but as the story goes on and Lucanis starts taking extra risks and eventually goes fully off the rails (like, so off the rails that he’s effectively multi-track drifting), it becomes increasingly apparent that Illario is the more professional of the pair.

He gets annoyed that Lucanis is shirking an order, despite his own resentment for Caterina.

He gets upset at Lucanis’ willingness to identify himself to an enslaved person and leave her alive because it’s an operational security issue. He and Lucanis are foreign agents hired to kill a powerful, well-connected Tevinter nobleman. If she can provide a description of Lucanis, that puts Lucanis’ life at risk!

Later, Illario reaches Peak Pissed Off when Lucanis denies him a quick kill, makes the situation substantially more dangerous, and isn’t able to differentiate between his own vengeful thoughts and what Illario’s actually telling him. To Illario, the job is a job, a task to complete; emotions and greater political concerns are beside the point, and only threaten their own survival.

(There is no place for emotion in killing, as Caterina taught them—as Lucanis remembers and immediately ignores.)

Finally, I’ll note that though Lucanis’ physical talents surpass his, we see that apart from a master social engineer and a professional with an appreciation for plans, effective risk management and a sensibly limited scope of work, Illario’s a deadly combatant in his own right, too.

Caterina and the Role of First Talon

The question becomes: how do those assets match up to the job of First Talon?

Lucanis clearly believes Illario’s social skills fit the demands of the role:

In TWJ, we’re not given a solid reason, really, as to why Lucanis is the evident favorite. We are shown that Lucanis is an almost legendarily lethal assassin, kind of a Batman-esque terror hero (maybe more of just a 'protagonist' than a ‘hero’, if I'm honest.) Lucanis is larger than life in the eyes of his peers. In ELT mention of him makes Teia and Viago literally shudder:

And what’s interesting there is that the description of him as terrifying is presented alongside a description of First Talon Caterina as terrifying. She is not fair, she is ruthless. She previously subjected a House to such complete devastation that Teia, a younger colleague, has never heard of it.

Like Illario, Caterina is intentional about her appearance. She deliberately demonstrates her wealth and authority. She actively masks emotions that are at odds with what she’s trying to accomplish socially.

But she’s scary. She is fierce and unyielding and commands respect through not just through the resources of her House, or her capacity for planning, or her overall experience and intelligence, but fear.

In this way, Lucanis seems more like Caterina. If the role of First Talon, preeminent killer of killers, carries a heavy expectation of brutality for the sake of the Crows as an institution, then charming, fashionable, affable Illario may not look like an appropriate choice.

Illario is a capable, pragmatic assassin; his ability to endear himself to strangers is bar none; he appreciates the value of a thought-out plan and would likely take naturally to administrative work if he doesn’t have a hand in it already (perhaps there’s a reason why, per Lucanis, he doesn’t leave Treviso or have much in the way of foreign contacts.) But superficially: he’s pleasant. He’s pretty. He doesn’t like blood. He doesn’t fit the image.

He’s not even mentioned by Viago as someone of interest after Teia alludes to him indirectly (and amusingly implies that neither he nor Lucanis are sufficiently affectionate towards Caterina.) Illario's likely not perceived as a contender of importance.

It’s apparent, too, that Lucanis’ absolute freakout in TWJ is not Lucanis’ standard operating procedure, given how shocked and furious Illario is with him—normally Lucanis is committed to his contracts, if kind of flying by the seat of his pants. His potentially compromising expressions of empathy towards servants and lower-class folks are evidently not usual for him since they surprise Illario, who otherwise seems to know him well. And while Lucanis is avoidant of Caterina, he respects her, and seems to have previously only nudged at his boundaries while still getting his work done, rather than actively making a mess of things in a way that might invite her scorn.

Illario, for what it's worth, doesn’t seem to be obnoxious towards her either—he expresses some bitterness to Lucanis, but rather than bothering Caterina about the matter himself, he wants Lucanis to open the conversation on his behalf. He’s tense about the potential for conflict and acknowledges her fear-based influence over both of them.

In all, I don’t think, textually, that Caterina’s disfavor of Illario is due to him being unqualified for the job of First Talon in terms of his actual skills, or due to some sort of interpersonal conflict between them. Maybe she even has a decent sense of his ability and track record, given that she had a hand in training him and is actively overseeing her House's affairs. Rather, I suggest she’d prefer someone who would match her leadership style, someone who would rule more through fear than love, who could adopt the persona other Crows expect in service of their collective survival. And certainly even up to the time that she’s set to summon Lucanis, Lucanis seems like the more suitable choice.

Caterina doesn't know that Lucanis has been growing a conscience, that he’s behaving erratically, that he said “fuck the job” amid Illario’s protestations. War looms on the horizon, the Crow leadership is gutted, and it's logical enough for her to figure that her legacy will need to be one of cold-blooded shows of force, not the persuasions of a silver tongue.

[mauvemischief]

Thinking about Jeremy Knox having chronic depression and sliding into a particularly bad slump. Thinking about the way Jean's stomach would turn uncomfortably upon seeing his captain so not himself, so quiet, the light he brought to the sunshine court, dimmed. Thinking about in the quiet moments where Jean would lay awake across the room from Jeremy while he was still asleep just to watch him breathe slowly, feeling guilty for missing the Jeremy he'd met when he'd first come to California but not knowing how to help Jeremy when Cat and Laila had told him all he could do was be there. But simply being present didn't feel like enough, seeing Jeremy's constant exhaustion and the ring of pink around his eyes that seemed substantially puffier. Jean hated standing by while Jeremy suffered. He couldn't stop thinking about the darkness of their shared room, and the way Jeremy lingered there whenever he could, no matter how dark it got. Thinking about the fact that Jean hates shopping but he asks Cat and Laila anyway, who take him to the touristy part of town and he finds a little stained glass panel depicting a delicate sun. Thinking about Jean, not one to spend his money frivolously buying the sun catcher with Jeremy in mind and securing it to the window on the wall beside Jeremy's bed. Thinking about Jeremy even in an ever deepening pit of despair, and self loathing, waking up to the gentle morning light of his shared room with Jean the entire room cast in sun rays and little rainbows emanating from the stained glass pain on his window that Jeremy certainly did not buy. thinking about the way Jeremy's heart ached knowing that Jean had thought of him.Thinking about Jeremy, who had brought light and love into Jean's life when he hadn't yet known true freedom. And I'm thinking about Jean wanting Jeremy to always know he is loved and valued by those around him, thinking about Jean wanting Jeremy to always remember the light he brings into the lives of others.

[otome-dissection]

Idk man I just think that mizu/ena5 and its progression was really beautiful actually. I just think that the release of the ena5 song was also really beautiful and kind of the nail in the coffin for me and I haven't been able to get the event(s) out of my head all week and that I kind of want to talk about it, actually.

It's about being hurt so deeply and continuously that any kindness that could be offered to you manages to feel like a sin, that it makes you crumble and shatter but for all the wrong reasons, not because of the newfound safety, not out of relief, but something worse and more deeply ingrained in you than kindness ever was. It's about carefully measuring the distance at which you keep others away from yourself, to ensure that it never happens again ("To save yourself the trouble", if that makes it easier).

It's about realizing that the people you've been spending all this time with are drifting closer, that they just might bump up against the unsightly parts of yourself that you've tried to keep locked away, it's about turning around and sprinting at full speed and slamming the door shut and holding onto the handle behind you to stop it from turning, because you're as frightened of the possibility of another wound being inflicted on you as you are of the possibility that kinder, gentler hands will reach out and smooth over the exposed scar. It's about hating eyes that judge and silently condemn you as much as you hate eyes that simply see you and take all of you in without scrutiny, because no matter what they're looking and they're looking at you and they know that your hand's on that door handle and they know that you're hiding something because, as much as you try to keep it shut, they've seen through the crack that you foolishly left open.

(The prominence of eyes in Bake no Hana, specifically eyes looking and searching, and finally landing on you, the viewer, Mizuki, is so fucking. Visceral in my opinion. Every character in the MV stares at the viewer in a deadpan, almost judging way. Even though Mizuki knows deep down that niigo won't really hate them, won't judge them, she just can't stand their kindness either; any gaze directed at her is a loss, another prick in their skin. It screams "don't look at me" while making sure that you know, with horrific certainty, that they're looking for you, that you're being watched. You can't go outside, can't leave your room, because they're searching for you, and while that should be reassuring, to you it's anything but).

It's about not wanting to be dissected, whether it's with hands that want to pull your organs apart or stitch them back together because no matter what they're there, and they're getting frighteningly close to your heart. It's about blinding yourself and covering your eyes to it all because seeing means exposure and exposure means they're taking something from you and you can't do anything about it, much less take it all back, much less have a say in the matter. Everyone's just taking and taking and taking and you wish you could just be alone. You wish everyone would just disappear and you could live in a world all to yourself, for only yourself (but is that really what you want?).

It's about the way that, near the beginning of the Yoka ni Mitoreta MV, Mizuki and her loneliness is represented as a dark, splotchy stain in the shadows. No colors, no patterns, no way to clean it or wash it all away, just raw ugliness marring a blank canvas. It's about the way that Ena reaches out to it anyway, the way she startles when the glass shatters just when she finally starts reaching forward, the way that the rest of the MV/song represents her searching for and reaching only further out to Mizuki, even if the broken shards of glass will only cut her fingers, potentially leaving scars.

It's about how, in every way, subtly, directly, consciously, and subconsciously, Ena shows that she fucking cares.

It's about the way that Ena lets Mizuki have autonomy, despite the situation being so horribly out of their control. And it's such a delicate thing: If she really wants to, Mizuki can take the opportunity to just run away, keep running forever, repeat the cycle over and over, and maybe she'll just destroy herself with it again, but it can't be denied that it's something important to them, something she can't quite live without just yet, their means of survival. Mizuki's autonomy is their identity, it's her tailoring her own clothes and choosing her own ribbons and styling her own hair the way she does. Ena letting them have that is as much about trust as it is about understanding that Mizuki of all people should have this right, when control was something stripped from her throughout so much of her life. She couldn't control how she was born, how people look at her or why, can't control what they think of her; lacking control has only left Mizuki vulnerable to the cruelties of others, has only caused them to suffer, which is why it's so important that it's given to them now.

She had the control to make the choice to see niigo's welcoming love and run away instead of staying, and she has the control to make the choice now whether she wants to keep things the way they are or take a step forward to be at their side again. She has every right to have it, and I think the fact that Ena realizes and respects that, even if it's subconsciously, is really beautiful (there is an entire fucking Verse about this in the new song and just. God Look at this. It's so caring, unconditional, and for fucking What. I think there is something to be said about how much Ena is willing to put aside for Mizuki, and maybe deep down it isn't healthy, but for now I'm just kind of in awe)

It's about how insanely patient Ena has been this whole time. Mizuki says that she basically lied to Ena's face about telling her their secret, even after Ena said with such conviction that she would wait for Mizuki as long as it takes, and Ena is just kept waiting and waiting and worrying like this seemingly indefinitely. It's about how Mizuki danced around it, avoided it, kept the distance, straight up ran when she was finally pushed, but Ena still chased anyway when she saw that she couldn't wait anymore, kept chasing just enough to intervene and get a straight answer out of Mizuki when she really needed to, but still leaving her enough space to leave if that was truly what she wanted. It's about how relieved Ena is the moment that Mizuki finally says outright how much they want to be with her and niigo, how much she wants to try, how much more light Ena's voice sounds when she grabs her hand, relieved, the way that the relief she feels can be felt through the music, throughout the entirety of Yoka ni Mitoreta, the way that warm colors always follow her when she chases after Mizuki, just to hold onto her and stop her from running away completely.

It's about how that careful combination of Ena's directness, Ena's persistence, Ena's warmth, her patience, her bluntness about her feelings, the way she chases and holds on but not too tight and her regard for how unsafe and exposed Mizuki feels actually works and breaks it all down. It's about how she really did reach through to Mizuki, despite the thorns and broken glass shards and nearly-unfulfilled promises, the way that Mizuki did finally let her turn the door handle and step through to see what she'd been hiding all this time, the way that Mizuki's hand, limp, when Ena first grabs onto it, shifts to hold hers back as they cry in the face of Ena's gentleness.

Despite how harsh Mizu/Ena5, and even Ena herself as a character can be (or at least was in the very beginning of pjsk), everything is somehow gentle and warm in the end, blindingly so. And you know what, I think that's beautiful. And what's even more beautiful than that is how Mizuki allows themself to crumble and shatter under that kindness, that warm light, but this time, finally, out of relief.

On a final note, I just want to say that I also appreciate how all that didn't have to solve everything. The scars haven't disappeared, haven't gone away, and Mizuki knows that their desire to run hasn't gone away forever, and maybe it never truly will. But for now they've calmed it, at least a little. She's learning to allow herself to be seen, learning that when someone's fingertips brush over their scars the way Ena's did that it's only out of care, and that maybe taking in that care and allowing herself to feel kindness and safety is okay. They're safe, for now, somehow. They're learning. They're trying. And I think that's cool :)