#extinction cascades

[cogitoergodeusnonest]

Intricate dance of nature — predicting extinction risks in terrestrial ecosystems

Have you ever watched a nature documentary and marvelled at the intricate dance of life unfolding on screen? From the smallest insect to the largest predator, every creature plays a role in the grand performance of our planet’s biosphere. But what happens when one of these performers disappears?  In this post, we delve into our recent article Estimating co-extinction risks in terrestrial…

[lore-of-the-mushroom-kingdom]

Dinosaur Land Location Part 1

So many people wonder where Dinosaur Land is in the Mario World. While many people believe it's near the Mushroom Kingdom, it's also believed to be part of the Cascade Kingdom.

This is because as established in a previous post, the Cascade Kingdom is one of the last places dinosaurs still live. In 2 other posts I pointed out how Yoshis have gone extinct in both the Mushroom Kingdom and Isle Delfino. It would make sense for Dinosaur Land to be part of the Cascade Kingdom. We only see Fossil Falls and we known the continent is much bigger. In fact when looking at the Triceratops skull shaped continent on the planet and official map, one can notice a group group of islands next to it. This is probably where Dinosaur Land is located.

Seems pretty sound right? Well.... It's not actually stated that the islands are Dinosaur Land. And while the Cascade Kingdom is stated to be one of the last places dinosaurs still roam, it doesn't mean it is the only place they are still found as evident by the previously mentioned Mushroom Kingdom example. With that being said upon further research, it has become apparent that Dinosaur Land is actually located in the Mushroom Kingdom. I explain why in the second part to this post.

[joy-haver]

Life is getting harder, and so, we must get better at it.

Climate change and species extinction and ecosystem collapse are happening quickly. They are spiraling out of control. Even many Ecosystems that are supposed to be the most stable in their regions are facing decline. There are runaway effects, each thing that gets worse makes the next thing get worse faster, more disastrously. Each of these systems becomes less resilient the more of its redundancies are stripped away.

And yet, we can also have cascading effects. I am seeing controlled burns turn the plantation pines into savannas again, for the first time in 200 years, they are burning now, right now, where they would never have imagined to burn a year ago. I am seeing people talk about planting native plants. The nurseries here are selling out of them faster than they can restock. If you ask, they will say “This did not happen last year”. The foundations that have been being built by ecologists over the past half century, and maintained against brutal colonialism by indigenous peoples, are seeping out into the community. I see people talking about river cane, and pitcher plant, and planting paw paw and persimmon and sassafras and spice bush. These things are returning. Even now, in the worst drought in known history of my area, I see more butterflies than last year, because we have put in more of their host plants, their overwinters. We are learning. We are beginning. We are being born into a world of ecology; we are breaking the green wall of blur that defines our settler nonrelationship with nature. The irises are returning to Louisiana, the black bear too. The oysters are returning to Mobile Bay. I hear talk of gopher apples and river oats from the mouths of children. I see the return of the chinquapin, and her larger sister chestnut. It is slow but it is also so fast. It is growing at new trajectories, new rises. Each of these becomes it’s own advocate when planted in space and put in relationship.

We are not doomed. We must claw back from the brink. We must find each other and we must exchange seeds. We must learn to pull invasive species. We must win others over through earnestness and full bellies, through kindling the spark of ecological joy, and then we must show them the way. We must be learning the way ourselves in the meantime. We must teach the children the names we were not told, that were forgotten; how to recognize these friends.

When things are spiraling towards despair and death we must be that spiral towards life and utter utopia. We must build ourselves into full participants in our ecological systems.

As life gets harder, we must get better at it.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

This ties into one of the big conundrums of restoration ecology. When trying to decide what plants to add to a restoration site, should we add those that are there now, even if some of those species are increasingly stressed by the effects of climate change? Or do we start importing native species in adjacent ecoregions that are more tolerant of heat?

Animals can migrate relatively quickly, but plants take longer to expand their range, and the animals that they have mutual relationships with may be moving to cooler areas faster than the plants can follow. Whether the animals will be able to survive in their new range without their plant partners is another question, and that is an argument in favor of trying to help the plants keep up with them. We're not just having to think about what effects climate change will have next summer, but also predict what it's going to look like here in fifty years, a hundred, or beyond. It's an especially important question in regards to slow-growing trees which may not reproduce until they are several years old, and which can take decades to really be a significant support of their local ecosystem.

For example, here in the Pacific Northwest west of the Cascades, western red cedar (Thuja plicata) is experiencing increased die-off due to longer, hotter summer droughts. Do we continue to plant western red cedar, in the hopes that some of them may display greater tolerance to drought and heat? Or do we instead plant Port Orford cedar (Chamaecyparis lawsoniana), which is found in red cedar's southern range, and which may be more drought-tolerant, even though it's not found this far north yet?

Planting something from an adjacent ecoregion isn't the same as grabbing a plant from halfway around the world and establishing it as an invasive species. But there is the question as to whether the established native would have been able to survive if we hadn't introduced a competing "neighbor" species. Would the Port Orford cedars and western red cedars be able to coexist as they do in northern California and southern Oregon, or would the introduced Port Orfords be enough to push the already stressed red cedars over the edge to extirpation?

There's no simple answer. But I am glad to see the government at least allowing some leeway for those ecologists who are desperately trying any tactic they can to save rare species from extinction.

[woundedoves]

How They Would Suck Your Blood: Vampires (Argenti, Caelus, Kaveh, Childe x Bottom GN!Reader) Headcanons Part 3 (NSFW)

˚⟡˖ ࣪part 1 ⋆౨ৎ˚part 2

a/n: vampires…. hngf

CW: blood obviously, insecurities on kaveh’s part, reader is a switch on kaveh’s part. not proofread!

๋࣭ ⭑🕸🦇🕸๋࣭ ⭑ ๋࣭ ⭑🕸🦇🕸๋࣭ ⭑ ๋࣭ ⭑🕸🦇🕸๋࣭ ⭑

Argenti

⋆ The fact that his immortality and life depends on mortals, he who needs alive beings to sustain his undead body, thinks that the balance of it all is fascinatingly beautiful. It’s a delicate balance, just like life itself, human blood is needed for a vampire’s survival and thus to avoid extinction of humans and their sustenance the vampires have to co-exist with them as peacefully as they can manage. He believes every human’s blood is magnificent in their own ways, they all have a unique taste that he adores, and yet, they don’t nearly come close to yours. He would describe the texture as silky smooth, the smell of the roses created from Idrila’s own hands, the taste is as heavenly as one can get, the loving embrace of the sun on a chilly day, the refreshing brush of wind on your skin on a summer day. It’s so bewitching; you feel divine.

⋆ Your body feels so warm against his, your heartbeat so soothing, your lips so soft and inviting as he sinks his fangs into your beautiful veins, your blood streaming down to your fingers as he feeds on you from your wrists. Yet, it doesn’t hurt, it’s like the prickle you feel on your fingers as you pick up a rose, hurts for a second but the beauty you witness just before you is worth a lifetime of pain. He looks so ethereal, his nightgown hugs his body so well, you have a matching one, of course, his tied up hair cascading like a waterfall down onto his shoulders as his rosy lips are smudged with your blood.

⋆ He gently lays you on the bed as all lights are off except for the candles he’s brought out just for this feeding session, which smell divine, slowly takes off your nightgown as he peppers kisses to your lips, neck, collarbones, going down, down…

⋆ He is very gentle with you, makes sure that his fingers alone provide enough simulation to ease the pain of his fangs as they sink into your neck, feeling his dick throb when you moan and grind your hips against his, his brain numb with the taste of your blood and the feeling of your body, completely lost within you as he feels your body become stiff under him, cumming with just his fingers and his fangs biting down on you, how adorable.

⋆ Other times when he has you, driving his cock in and out of your tight quivering hole as he moans your name, your blood dripping down from his chin as he has your arms above you with his hands keeping them in place as he slams his hips down onto your ass over and over again until his cock throbs, twitches and with a final shove cums inside as both of you cry out in ecstasy. Moments like that, when you two become one, never leave his mind, if he had to describe divine beauty, he would talk of you, your body on full display, the fresh bite mark still bleeding as you feel mind-numbing pleasure, your body shaking with climax: that is divine beauty to him, he’s sure Idrila would agree.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Caelus

⋆ Doesn’t really care that much as long as he can keep himself from hurting the ones he cares about, he hosts a stellaron nothing that happens to his body can faze him more than that. That being said, once they save you from the clutches of a once beautiful but now ruined planet, and you become a nameless alongside him, he doesn’t expect to get long with you so well! You match his energy, don’t force him to talk when he feels down, you even get him trashcan trinkets like keychains, glasses, plushies when you explore the planets with them. He’s always grateful, loves to game with you, he doesn’t need sleep, and you do your best to stay up as late as you can with him, the calming rhythm of your heartbeat and breathing helps ease his mind as he continues to game. He adores these moments the most, the silent and peaceful as he curls up beside you for your warmth.

⋆ Either not horny at all or insatiably horny when feeding on you, it’s a gamble. Loves having you on his lap when he feeds on you, he’s a messy eater though, gets it all over his clothes and yours so you’ve just decided to go naked when he feeds on you. The first time you do this, you see him blush, but he doesn’t comment on it, then as he’s feeding on you, you hear these little muffled whimpers coming out of him as you feel his hard-on press against your ass, teasing as you grind down, and you feel a muffled moan of your name against your skin.

⋆ You’re such a tease to him, and he’s so shy about it, whines as you grind on his cock, your hole so tight around his throbbing dick as he feeds from your neck, you taste so fucking good he doesn’t wanna stop. He fucking loves the way you move your hips, he already came inside when he bit down, crying out from overstimulation as you don’t stop your hips for one second, milking his weeping cock for its worth as you use it like your personal sex toy.

⋆ Loves seeing only the bottom half of your body naked as you game, your shirt haphazardly thrown as you game on his switch, spreading your legs when you notice him and of course you know he wants to feed on your thighs. It's so hot to him how nonchalant you are about it, he drags his tongue over your sex first as he indulges himself in the taste of you, the way you shiver slightly when you’re close to cumming, moaning as he makes sure to take all of your cum on his tongue, he wants to mix it in with your blood as he bites down on your inner thigh and sucks; the taste just as addicting as he thought. Whimpering ad humping your bed like a desperate mutt as he feels his body shake with arousal just from your taste, you tell him he has to wait until you finish the last stage of your game; then he can fuck you as much as he likes. He whines in protest but can’t stop feeding on you as you continue to play your game with a satisfied expression on your face.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kaveh

⋆ Very messy about it, doesn’t know how to accept himself. You and Al-Haitham are what keep him alive and well-fed, Al-Haitham can’t feed him so that’s why you’re the one that frequently feeds him, he finds you more comforting than him too. Plus you’re his boyfriend so in your mind, it makes perfect sense. There are many nights where you can find him in deep thought, sudden tears flow from his beautiful eyes as he clings onto you for support, you listen to his troubles and soothe his worries, he isn’t a monster; just another life form, different doesn’t mean evil.

⋆ Very much depends on if he’s too tired to fuck or not but, he really likes having sex while feeding on you. Just the raw feeling of his dick thrusting in and out of your whole while your thighs quiver, his fangs sucking blood from your chest as he gives a light lick to your nipple to feel you shiver under him; makes him forget all of his worries, even if for a moment.

⋆ Loves biting down just as you’re about to cum, you make the prettiest sounds when he does that, he’s addicted. Your smell is a huge source of comfort, when he’s exhausted and his body is all sore, he smells you as you walk to your house, he can’t wait to be in your arms and slowly feed on you.

⋆ Fantasizes a lot about having sex in a body of water, just the coolness of the water hitting your body as the tingling pleasure of his fangs spread throughout your body; he wants to see you all ruined and a begging mess like that.

⋆ He climbs on your lap when he’s unbearably needy as he grinds his ass down on your crotch, begging for you to just take all of his worries away, have him all to yourself. Such a whiny bottom, whimpers as he bites down on your neck, your cock/strap dragging along his walls as he feels his dick tingle and throb from the stimulation of it all. Loves to be on your lap as you give him a hand job with your fingers being covered in blood as just a few minutes ago you made him suck on them like it was your dick/strap after he just fed on you, his cum and your blood mix together as you fist his cock; feeling it throb on your palm as his hips stutter, and he cums with a cry of your name.

⋆ If you wear clothes that expose your collarbone, or thighs, or belly, he can’t help himself, he will keep looking and staring until you tell him to come and feed on you because his puppy eyes are too cute to resist.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Childe

⋆ Kind of happy because on one side it gives him even more advantage in battle, enhances his fighting prowess and skills, but… He can’t go out with his siblings in the daylight anymore, which means he barely gets to see them and rarely has dates with you because he’s always busy at night. He makes up for it by showering you in gifts and his love when he can though, he’s a loving man, and he’ll never make you forget just how much he adores you.

⋆ That being said, he fucking loves the taste of your blood. It’s like, he gets the same rush from drinking your blood as he gets a rush from fighting a powerful being, it’s so fucking addicting, makes all of his senses go numb as he grips your thighs tightly and grind his hips down onto your own.

⋆ Loves quickies, whenever he has even a sliver of free time, seeks you out and has you wherever he can. Doesn’t even undress properly, takes you to a back alley, takes his cock out and fucks you until you’re a dumb cock whore on his dick as he sinks his fangs into your neck, his muffled groaning echoing back as he drives his cock in and out of your hole, your taste, and body is just so damn addicting.

⋆ When he can take his time with you, it’s always a marathon, he has stamina for days, won’t stop unless you really are hurting.

⋆ Your ass, thighs, belly will be bruised and covered in bites when he’s done with you.

⋆ Loves to have you doggy style as he grips you by the waist and slams you down on his dick over and over again as your hole tightens around his cock so fucking deliciously, licks his lips as he bites down on your back, making you cry out with surprise as you clench around his throbbing dick, feeling his pre-cum buildup inside you as he slams his hips down a few more times and cums inside with a twitch of his cock, both of you moaning in pure, tainted ecstasy as he doesn’t stop his thrusts until you cum; withdrawing his fangs only until you do, lapping up the bloodstains on your back as his thrusts slow down to a more gentle pace, bloody lkiss prints all over your spine when he’s done.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[charmwasjess]

Strap in for the Soresu form III Obi-Wan lightsaber post. This is gonna be a sad one, girlies. We’re getting into Obi-Wan’s Fucking Trauma. 

Qui-Gon’s death changed literally everything about Obi-Wan’s life, right down to the lightsaber form. Still a Padawan himself, he had to watch as an extinct monster from his nightmares* utterly took apart the form he’d learned since he was a child, and then, to complete the destruction, slaughtered the teacher who’d taught him the form and raised him. The devastation of Qui-Gon’s actual death had to be the last in a cascading series of horrors that started with the gut-sinking realization that Qui-Gon was losing. And if all of that weren’t enough, Obi-Wan also loses his own lightsaber in the same duel, a psychological blow to his personhood which we don’t have to guess at the significance of. Obi-Wan tells us the cost of it himself in AotC: this weapon is your life. 

The Duel of the Fates on a sheer physical level is a devastating thing to consider. It’s a grueling, full out running battle, the likes of which we don’t see elsewhere in the saga. The beauty (and pounding musical score) of the fight distracts from the sheer brutality of it. Maul is physically attacking them at every turn; he manages to kick Qui-Gon hard enough to knock all 6’3 of him off his feet; he dumps Obi-Wan into a fall that seems to be several stories high. We don’t see Obi-Wan get back up off the floor with Qui-Gon’s body at the end of the duel, and I’d be surprised if he was physically able to even stand again so after the adrenaline faded and the soreness and exhaustion took over. He just been whirled in a lightsaber blender. 

I can’t imagine how hard it was for him to pick up a lightsaber again after the trauma of that battle - much less, a new, unfamiliar one, not the kyber crystal that had been his since he was a child. The new canon’s emphasis on the spiritual relationship between a Jedi and their crystal makes this detail even more excruciating. The Ataru form itself must have felt broken and unusable. How can you put your trust in a form once you watched it be broken so ruthlessly?

And this is where Obi-Wan is so endlessly beautiful as a character. He goes through this horrifying experience of violent unmaking, and instead of avoiding lightsabers as an understandable trauma response, or picking up an overwhelming power and dominance form like V, he remakes himself into a master of Soresu: a form of simple, complete defense. He doesn’t attempt to become a weapon of attack like Maul did to disintegrate Ataru; he makes himself invincible, untouchable, with a perfect defense. Soresu works the pieces that fell apart for the Jedi in the Duel of the Fates to an advantage. It is a form of ultimate endurance, of playing out your opponent and staying up in a fight until the attacker is exhausted or angry. It preserves and it lasts. It is philosophical. It is considered. It lacks the showy flash of Makashi or Ataru and returns to the basics, even working in some of that battlefield meditation that Qui-Gon so believed in. And in that simple economy, it’s gorgeous and effective. 

I have to wonder: is Soresu, on some level, a form of kinetic self-soothing for a person who faced an incredibly traumatic battle at a young age? Does Obi-Wan use it that way?

All of this is perfectly in keeping with the themes of the character. Obi-Wan’s story remains about life, about hope, about survival. The word he uses to describe the Jedi to Luke in the OT is important to me. “Jedi knights were the guardians of peace and justice.” Guardians. And what better lightsaber approach for a person who sees his role as one of protection than a form whose signature move is called “The Circle of Shelter?”

*Maul, of course, is a tragedy in his own right, but that’s a different post. 

[phuuca]

Ace Trappola - 1/7

Werewolf Subspecies: Cascade Mountain Wolf

Despite coming from a human family, Ace was the only one of the Trappola children to receive the werewolf gene. Maybe it's because of this circumstance, or maybe the place they live, that caused Ace to be born as a wolf that's been extinct for many decades now.

Being the only werewolf in a human family has led to many, subconscious, cultural differences in what's considered "normal". Because of this Ace doesn't quite know how to act civil and regularly acts out due to pent up energy and instinct. He has, unfortunately, been deemed as "the designated trouble-maker of Heartslaybul", despite most of his transgressions not being ones of purpose or aggression.

[fatehbaz]

“Exceptionally rare animal spotted in California for only 2nd time in 100 years. Shock, excitement as second wolverine in 101 years seen in California. Wolverine spotted in California for only the second time in a century.”

---

‘A trio of rare wolverine sightings in California has been verified by scientists, marking just the second time in a century the animal has been spotted in the Golden State. All three sightings were reported by different people last month in various parts of the Eastern Sierra Mountains. One was seen in Yosemite National Park and two in the Inyo National Forest, the state Department of Fish and Wildlife announced Thursday [1 June 2023]. [...] [T]here are thought to be only about 300 wolverines in the country [Lower 48, contiguous United States]. [...] The last time a wolverine was spotted in California was documented by scientists between 2008 and 2018 in the Tahoe National Forest. Before then, the last sightings were in the 1920s.’

Headline, image, caption, and text excerpt from: Cheri Mossburg. “Wolverine spotted in California for only the second time in a century.” CNN. 2 June 2023.

---

---

For context, the current and historic distribution range of the wolverine in North America, displaying widespread local extinctions:

The closest known healthy/permanent populations of wolverine are far away in the Northern Rockies in Idaho and the North Cascades in Washington.

One of these wolverines was seen at Yosemite National Park, which is about 450 miles/720 kilometers away from the wolverine populations in the Rockies northeast of Boise, 500 miles/800 kilometers away from the Wasatch Mountains near Logan, and about 1,000 miles/1,600 kilometers away from North Cascades National Park.

[sycamorality]

there's so much to life you don't notice until it's gone unless you actively make a choice to

the cascading hues of at dawn and dusk of not only the sky itself, but also the clouds above and ground below catching the colors, a rainbow as it appears and disappears in the sky, the vibrant and lush greens of the plantlife, the bright and pretty colors each flower has and snow glittering below the night sky so full of stars. it's almost alien to think we used to be able to see the milky way in the night sky but now we only see so few stars compared to what we used to be able to see.

the sounds of a stream or river running along its path and water foaming, your foot kicking up small rocks that clack together as you walk through a gravel road, the bristling of leaves from a tree canopy, leaves being dragged along the ground by the wind, dry branches cracking under you as you step on them, the soft crunching of snow as something walks through it, the chirping of birds at dawn and throughout the day. i always think about how many birds we're losing where i live. it's estimated corvids will go extinct in the next few decades, and the songbird population has drastically decreased already.

the feeling of gliding your hands through snow, grass, a bush, or against a tree tree trunk, turning a rock around in your palm to look at how it glitters in the light, sitting in a grass field or gravel road, a flower's petals, holding a flower in the palm of your hand, the feathers of a bird, a cold summer breeze, letting your hand float in the water of a lake just down the road from your house and running your hand along fur of a cat. one day they'll be gone, and you'll expect to hear them scratching at your door or meowing in the middle of the day, but when you check for them, you'll remember they aren't there anymore.

[meatballhead-usagi]

Forgotten Realm - City of Splendour (Barbarian! Bakugo x Reader, Chapter 2!)

When you oh so politely informed Bakugo that there wasn't supposed to be a living, thriving city on your expedition he seemed to not quite comprehend the fact. Surely the surface people didn’t think that everyone in the city just died during the cataclysm? The entire war party looked flabbergasted when you informed them that, not only that the rest of the world thought the people here were just a myth, you were a scholar who focused on extinct civilisations - and you focused on Musutafu, specifically. 

Tags: barbarian!bakugo x female!reader, all characters are aged 18+, slow burn romance, swearing, fictional language, atlantis vibes, reader and bakugo get real close in terms of physical contact but no kissing or sexual conduct (yet lmao), reader is slightly shy. Word Count: Roughly 2k Find the masterlist here! Or part one here!

Katsuki came to the conclusion that the smartest thing to do right now was to bring you back to the city. It would give him the chance to figure out what to do with both yourself, and your exploration team. The blond heaved as he escorted you through the dimly lit streets of the City of Splendour. Twinkling lanterns illuminated the streets and you eyes couldn’t have been more lit up if they tried. You look in awe up at the sights, the people, the architecture.

The hushed whispers of 'yahaka', outsider, didn't seem to phase you.

Bakugo watched your expressions closely. It was entertaining to him to see your sense of wonder in seeing his city for the first time. The sense of curiosity emanating from you being somewhat endearing to him. 

As bad as it sounded, you wanted to see every single thing the city had to offer regardless of the situation you found yourself in. This was technically a perfect opportunity for a private tour, and you had after all only been yearning and searching for this place your entire life. So, despite having your hands bound together in rope and being trailed along through the streets like a prize, you stop to examine a large statue of a woman. She bore a fierce resemblance to your captor, looking between the statue and then to him, and then back at it.

"Who is this?" You ask, speaking in Musutafan again. You were met with a simple grunt and a yank as Bakugo took hold of your bicep. You didn't quite catch what he said under his breath.

"The Lioness of Musutafu," Kirishima spoke up in his friend's place as you were again pulled and yanked along by the blond, "That is our queen." You look at Kirishima with a curious expression. Not that queens weren't fantastic rulers, no no. It was the fact that the history recorded in the Book of Musutafu had indeed mentioned the title. Though, that book had to be hundreds of years older than the statue, and the current inhabitants of the city so it was out of the question that it was indeed the same woman. "Queen?" You ask. He nodded. Kirishima was taller than Bakugo, with longer, wilder, red hair which trailed across his back and shoulders. It was tied back for the most part, with two smaller pieces framing is face in horn-like fashion. Despite his sheer size, he didn't come across as intimidating. He simply gave you gave a nod and a half-smile.

You nervously give a polite smile before your eyes trailed to Bakugo's hand. His fingers had lingered a little too long when you followed the wordless command to begin the walk up the staircase before you. He caught your gaze and narrowed his eyes, removing his hand and giving a tug on the rope as he walked a few paces ahead. Kirishima had an intrigued smirk on his face and nudged his friend, earning a snarl from the blond. You kept quiet.

As you reached the top of the staircase and walked a short-ways through great marble pillars, you were met with a beautiful water garden. There were toppled statues peeking out from above the waterline, and another cascading waterfall framing what you presumed was the throne. It wasn’t a grandiose chair, but it was set higher than other seats with vibrantly coloured tapestries and cushions placed upon it. A woman sharing the same ash blond hair as your captor sat perched on it, accompanied by a man with brown hair sitting beside her. Your entrance caused the woman to stand.     

“Bow. On your knees.” Kirishima said to you in a hushed tone as he bowed, and you quickly copied his action. Bakugo didn’t bow, just stood there looking up at whom you deemed to be his parents through the physical similarities they shared. He was a ruler here.

You lift your head a bit to see how this was going to play out.     

“What is this?” The woman answered, her tone a mix of angry and intimidating, “Where did she come from? Katsuki, you know no outsiders can see the city and live!” She clearly wasn’t worried about you being understand the language.   

 “She’s from the surface, rekke. Knows the language.” Bakugo’s clearcut words caused his mother to stop in her tracks. She didn't seem phased at the fact she'd been shown such disrespect as to be called a crone, but was more the fact you had heard - and understood - every word of the conversation that was taking place. She and look towards her husband for his input, before looking back at you. 

“Can you speak our language, then?” The male asked, watching with calm intrigue. When you didn’t immediately answer his father, the younger Bakugo’s boot gently nudged your thigh to provoke you to respond. 

“Y-Yes, yes I’ve been studying it almost my entire life.” You lift your head as you look at the two of them, recognising the woman before you from her statue outside of the palace. This was indeed the the Lioness.

“I’m a scholar, I’ve dedicated everything to the study of this city and its language, and traveled a long way to find it. I wasn’t expecting for everyone here to be...” You did your best to find the correct words, but you were out of practice seeing as you’d never held conversation with someone else who could speak the language. 

“Alive.” Mitsuki finished your words for you as she began to descend the throne to study you. She hummed as she circled where you knelt. She was like a predator circling her prey, sizing you up and trying to see through you to find your intentions. You see where the name 'The Lioness' was derived from. When you weren’t deemed a threat, she looked at her son. “Was she alone?”  “No. There’s a couple dozen of the fuckers taking refuge in the temple. Took her cause she can speak alright. Thought she could help w-” Bakugo’s words were cut off when Mitsuki raised her hand to stop him. He grumbled lowly in response.  “Lets keep it that way. Seal the exit to the temple, no one goes in or out of the city til the intruders leave. Kirishima, organise extra guard posts. Take every precaution to ensure we’re not discovered. We don’t know their true intentions.” She was quick and to the point. Once her back was turned Kirishima sent you an apologetic look as he rushed off to carry out the command he was given. Mitsuki gave a satisfied nod as she began to walk up the stairs again.

“Wait please, allow me to stay. Uh, he said that I could help with something. If I can help make use of me.” Your soft plea piqued the king's interest, it was clear on his face as he watched you look up at Katsuki - his son - with a pleading expression. Katsuki's gaze was already on you when your eyes met his. Intense and questioning, but not hostile as it had been before. A howl of laughter erupted from the Queen as she sat back in her chair. The quieter male that was with her whispered softly into her ear, drawing Mitsuki's focus back to you. "And what makes you believe we need the help of an outsider? All your peoples have done is cause us grief." Mitsuki asked as she leaned back, awaiting your response.

Katsuki pulled a book from his cloak and held it up for his mother to see. It certainly piqued her interest. "She had this. She can help." The prince growled lowly, waving the book a bit before he dropped it down on the ground next to your knees. "I found her, I'm keepin' her." He began to untie your hands. You looked confused as to why he was having such a sudden change of heart, but didn't argue. Whatever kept your head attached to your body at this point.

“If no one will come looking for her, my dear, then I suppose to it wouldn’t hurt to learn everything we can of her people and what they’re capable of.” Masaru said it softly, holding Mitsuki’s hand and looked at his wife. "We've never had an outsider be able to understand us before. If we leave her things scattered at the temple, the others could think she’s been killed by an animal and leave.” Masaru spoke up again, clearly the diplomat of the family.

“Katsuki!" Mitsuki’s voice raised and sharpened as she did very little to sway Katsuki as he ushered you along with him, walking out of the water garden. You squeak like a little mouse as you watch him take a few paces then begin to follow - you’re probably safest with him, anyway. Mitsuki let out a disapproving sigh as she watched the two of you leave her throne room. "Istik! Come back here!" She yelled out. Brat.

You find yourself now just following Katsuki through the halls of the palace, always a few paces behind him. You lingered around for moments as you stopped to see the paintings on the walls, the carvings in the marble and the beautiful views of the city from the windows and open-door balconies.

You get to get a feel for the marble when your back hits against the stone, earning a gasp from you as you're now sandwiched between the coolness of the pillar and the warmth radiating from the prince. One of his large calloused hands had pinned your arm above your head and his face was hot enough that you could feel his breath fanning over your lips.

"I want to know everything," Katsuki spoke in a low and gravelly tone. Pointed. Sharp. Demanding. It ignited something within you and every nerve from your core to your spine tingled, "Where did you learn our language? How did you get here?"

He started drilling you with questions. What were your intentions here? Where had you come from? Was the rest of the camp planning an attack? And when you stuttered and stumbled over the words, he tightened his grip. "Answer me." "One question at a time, please." You manage to breathe out in a hushed, soft tone, "I'm not used to actually speaking your language. I've only ever read it." He pulled himself away from you. The cold of the night air nipped at where you could once feel his warmth. Your body craved for the heat of him to come back. "You can read this?" His tone dropped, less harsh but still gravelly and coarse. He held the book out and inspected it before opening the pages to delve into it.

"Yeah, just like you can." You watch him curiously. "I learned by reading that and other artefacts. I wrote my entire doctorate on the study of-" He cut you off. "This. You can read this?" Katsuki asks it again, crimson eyes lifting from the page he was examining and searching deep into your eyes for the truth. You swallow timidly and nod again before the thought crossed your mind. "You can't read?" You ask it softly, timidly, as if you do not want to cause any offence in even suggesting the idea. He grunts as a response, closing the book and handing it back to you. You take that as a no. He stepped back and put his hands on his hips as he leaned his weight back. Katsuki looked you up and down, and you held the book closer to your chest. The two of you share a moment of silence before you speak up again. "So, does this mean I can stay?" He responds with a grunt. But you take what you can from him - it wasn't a no.

Taglist: @lunrai ; @goodiesinthecloset21 ; @stxrrielle ; @nonomesupposedto ; @dragonstorytelling ;

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Image taken from the Disney's Art of Atlantis: The Lost Empire workbooks. Characters based upon the My Hero Academia series by Kohei Horikoshi. All written works belong to meatballhead-usagi and are not to be reposted, reuploaded or redistributed to external sites without prior permission!! Reblogs, likes and asks are always welcomed<3

[sambuchito]

you can't make a whole fucking ecosystem go extinct just because an animal can pass a disease on to humans. by that logic let's go out and slaughter every mammal that isn't a human since we can get rabies from them. we lose mosquitos we lose bats, the plants those bats pollinate, the whole extinction cascade

ill give you props for attempting to suck the worlds tiniest dick

[hannahbarberra162]

hOrnithology for Beginners, Chapter 4

on Ao3 Previous chapter

Unfortunately the real Imperial Woodpecker is thought to be extinct.

ALSO were none of you going to tell me that the beetle would be poisonous not venomous?! I made this mistake in front of Marco, smh.

Marco POV

You had to be fucking with him, right? Either that or he was being severely punished for a heinous crime in another life. Because the sight of you stripping down in front of him while he couldn’t respond was almost too much. He’d seen some of your figure before, but nothing like this. You were absolutely perfect, legs toned from all the hiking you did but also thick in all the right places. He did feel guilty - he knew you wouldn’t want him seeing you naked if you knew he was also Marco the pirate - but he couldn’t stop himself from watching. You were like a little water nymph, jumping and splashing happily in the waterfall. This was one of the times he missed swimming but he contented himself by watching you. 

“I went on a date today,” you said, breaking the silence. “It was OK, but it was with a pirate.”  Interesting, he would get to hear your perspective. It was a little strange that you would tell this to a mythical bird you befriended, but you were a unique woman. Marco decided to help himself to some of your dried pineapple, flying down from his perch.

“I hate pirates,” you said, floating on your back. Marco watched mesmerized as your breasts and hair floated freely in the water, the pertness of your nipples distracting him from your words. “They’re always trying to kill or take living creatures to sell. Always selfish. Bad tippers too.” You pulled yourself to standing, still half submerged in the water. The water cascaded off you in rivulets down your chest, and he was suddenly thirsty. 

“Is that what happened to you? Did you escape from Whitebeard’s ship?” Marco shook his head as he finally registered your question. It was endearing you wanted to help but he didn’t want his captain vilified for something he didn’t do. At least now he knew the reasons behind your passionate hatred of pirates.

“I have so many questions for you. Would you want to answer any?” you looked at him imploringly. He shook his head again. He didn’t want to get himself into any more trouble than he was already in by answering questions. Besides, he would rather hear you talk about your impressions of him. 

“Of course, I’m sorry,” you said abashedly. You pushed yourself to sit on a rock jutting out over the edge of the pool, dangling your legs in the water and your torso exposed. You started kicking your legs gently, which jiggled your breasts with every kick. It was hypnotic.

“This pirate was alright. I think he actually listened when I talked, which is different from most pirates. Well, most guys really. Most of ‘em just listen when they think it’ll get me to sleep with ‘em. But I wasn’t going to either way so he didn’t need to impress me.” Marco trilled softly to show he was paying attention. He had listened to everything you’d said today - your knowledge was fascinating and he enjoyed hearing you speak about your interests.  

You smiled warmly. “Not like you, right? You’d never do that.” Marco cooed to confirm. If his brothers ever found out he spoke to you like a bird he’d never hear the end of it. You stared off at the waterfall.

“He is very good looking though. I don’t like pirates, I didn’t say I wasn’t attracted to ‘em…” You trailed off in thought. Marco ate more of the pineapple and you looked over at him happily. You were so beautiful when you smiled at him, it felt like a warm summer breeze under a cerulean sky. At least you found him attractive, he could work with that. It would be better if you liked his personality, but at least he had a foothold. Er, talonhold. 

“Ha! I’m justifying my feelings to a phoenix. How sad is that? I hope you didn’t mind.” In response Marco came closer to you. You stopped moving and watched his slow approach. Marco stopped a few feet away from you and raised his wing. His primary feathers stopped a few inches from you. You looked at him wildly when Marco trilled.

“Are you sure?” you brought your fingertips up. Marco trilled again, quieter this time. You reached out slowly and extended your index finger to his primary feathers. You ever so gently stroked down one feather and Marco swore you shivered. You trailed your fingers down his feathers with such a light touch he could barely feel it. It felt like a whisper of a kiss on his skin and it was hard to concentrate. You were teasing him with complete innocence and it was increasing his desire to an unbearable degree. 

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” you said with tears in your eyes. Marco suddenly felt guilty - he didn’t know you’d have such an emotional reaction to touching him. He could guess that you didn’t like to show your softer emotions to strangers, and definitely not while naked. He fluttered his wing and a feather trailed down in the air. He picked it up with his beak and handed it to you. You took the feather with shaking hands, clutching it tightly.

“I’ve been looking for a feather since I saw you on the island. I will never sell it. Thank you.” You bowed your head to him. Marco got the distinct feeling you’d be more upset about bowing to him than being naked in front of him. He was in trouble.

Your POV

Aside from the date stuff, which really wasn’t that bad, today was the best day of your life. You got to touch a phoenix, confirm your suspicions that it could communicate, it gave you a feather, and you’d gotten to touch a phoenix . You were walking on clouds, you couldn’t contain your happiness. After bowing to your phoenix (when had it become your phoenix?) it had flown back to the perch, peering down at you every so often. You finished up your swim and put your now dry clothes back on. It was now evening and your stomach growled loudly. 

“I’m going to make dinner. Would you like some?” you asked your phoenix. The phoenix shook its head regally, like the monarch it was. It took a little time to make dinner - you first had to gather wood and start a fire. Gathering the wood didn’t take long as you were in a forest and you assembled the kindling into a cone so it would catch fire quickly. You sorted through your pack, looking for your flintstone when you heard the sound of fire catching. Confused, you glanced back at the now blazing fire and the pleased face of your phoenix.

“Is there anything you can’t do? You really are the perfect creature,” you told the phoenix dreamily. The phoenix preened at your words, looking pleased with itself. It gently cooed at you one last time and sailed off into the night with a flap of its gorgeous blue wings. You sighed and ran the feather it had given you over your face, enjoying the sensation under the darkening evening sky.

~~~

Marco POV

Unfortunately, Marco had to leave. He had other duties to attend to and also wanted to check in on Ace. He assumed Ace would be busy until morning but the doctor in him just wanted to make sure he was at least on the mend. He flew away from you reluctantly as you watched him glide through the sky. Their days on the island were dwindling and he’d have to leave you soon. Selfishly, he’d been enjoying your worship of his phoenix form. The phoenix, though part of him, had a personality of its own. It absolutely thrived on praise and adoration. Marco didn’t think he needed it, but having you dote on him scratched an itch he hadn’t realized he had. Flying himself back to the inhabited part of the island, he soared over Etta’s house and heard Ace…doing well. He was glad Ace was no longer in pain but didn’t stick around to hear the details. 

Landing on the ship’s deck, Marco braced himself for the inevitable onslaught of questions from his brothers. Thatch was the first to spot him and wandered over with a shit eating grin.

“So, how was the double date?”

“Good yoi.” Ace was so far the only one who knew the full story and Marco wanted to keep it that way. 

“Where’s Ace? Had a better ending than you?” 

“Kind of, he touched that poisonous beetle. The aphrodisiac one. He’s…working it off right now.” Thatch laughed heartily and Marco smiled. Ace got into all kinds of trouble, he was young and reckless and it made for good stories. Well, for the others at least. 

“ Jozu, I owe you 50 Beri, he did touch it!” Thatch yelled across the deck, still laughing. This wasn’t their first time to the island, the rest of them knew not to touch the Peel Rhino Beetle. 

“But your date was a sour grape? It was that …friendly waitress, right?” Marco had hoped Thatch would drop it, but no such luck.

“She was nice, actually. I spent a long time with her. She’s quite knowledgeable about birds - wants to be an Ornithologist. Made for good conversation yoi.” Marco took the opportunity to leave - he had spent a few hours away and was sure there was work waiting for him back in his office. Besides, he’d be catching up with you again, and soon.

~~~

Early the next morning, Marco flew to Etta’s house, making sure to shift completely into his human form before getting close to the town. Marco wasn’t used to how long walking took - flying was so much faster. But he didn’t want to risk you seeing him in a partial transformation. His plan today was to charm you into liking him as a man, not as a bird. After all, he’d been on the Grand Line a long time, he was no stranger to attracting women. And he knew that you at least found him attractive. True, he didn’t usually have to try, but it was the thrill of the challenge. He had a few tricks he was willing to use if it endeared him to you.

After listening for a minute to see if anyone was busy , Marco knocked on the door to Etta’s house loudly. No one answered so he knocked again, louder. He finally heard someone scurrying around and the door cracked open. He saw a tired but happy looking Etta behind the door. Marco smiled at the young woman.

“Good morning yoi. How’re you and Ace doing?” Marco asked cordially.

“Ace’s sleeping now but doing better. The, uh, poison is mostly gone.” Etta finished her sentence with a blush on her cheeks. 

“Glad to hear it. I’ll leave you two be, I’m sure you need some rest.” Marco turned to go with a smile, but Etta stopped him.

“Wait, how was the rest of your date?” Marco pursed his lips. He wasn’t sure what Etta did and didn’t know.

“It ended after I brought Ace here yoi.” Etta put her hands on her hips, arms akimbo with an incredulous look on her face.

“Don’t lie. I know you’re the Phoenix she’s been seeing around the island. I’m not going to say anything, I think this might be good for her. She’s a really sweet person, just a little… guarded.” Etta explained. Marco heard Ace moaning for Etta from within the house. Etta and Marco locked eyes.

“I’ve gotta go,” Etta said, her blush returning. 

“Enjoy,” Marco said simply. Etta turned bright red and shut the door. Ah, to be young and poisoned. 

~~~

Already knowing where you were likely to be, Marco picked his way over to the waterfall. He wanted to “surprise” you and see if he could sway your opinion of him. He made his way over carefully, making sure to make enough noise to alert you to his presence. Though it wouldn’t affect him, being shot with a dart gun wouldn’t feel great either. He entered the clearing, pretending to take in the scene for the first time. He sat down on a rock near the waterfall and enjoyed the peace and quiet. 

“Marco?!” he heard you call from the other side of the pool. You didn’t look happy to see him.

“How did you find this place? Did you follow me?” you stalked up to him with a finger pointed in his direction. 

“So suspicious yoi,” Marco said without heat. He had anticipated such a reaction from you. “I checked Ace and Etta this morning to make sure they’re OK. After I thought I’d hike around the island, see what’s here.” Marco threw in the bit about your friend to hook you into conversation with him. You dropped your scowl.

“How are they doing?” you said, biting your lip. 

“Ace is better, Etta took care of him.” He saw your face heat slightly, which he found cute. 

“Anyway, I thought I would enjoy bird watching while I’m still on the island, which brought me here.”

Your POV

Your eyes narrowed, you weren’t sure if you believed him. But you couldn’t prove he had done anything wrong. Besides, it’s not like you owned the waterfall, he could go where he wanted. You considered it your special place, but it wasn’t actually yours. You had been drawing the phoenix feather in great detail when he’d come up to your camping area. You’d moved the feather for safety but your sketches were still out and you wanted to go hide them from his prying eyes. You turned to move back to your belongings when you spotted an Imperial woodpecker in a nearby tree.

“Marco,” you whispered, not moving “look over there.” If he liked birds, he might enjoy this rare treat. If he didn’t ask you to sell it, that is.

“Nice, yoi. Imperial woodpecker.” Marco whistled an incredibly accurate bird call to it, causing it to chirp back. You listened to the two of them singing back and forth until the woodpecker decided to fly off. Two points to the pirate - he correctly identified the bird at first glance and you’d never heard such a good birdcall before.

“That’s a good skill to have,” you remarked casually. He didn’t need to know how impressed you were. Marco shrugged.

“Birds like me yoi. I’m hoping we’ll see some uncommon species today.”

“What do you mean, we? ” He wasn’t planning on tagging along with you again, was he? Just as you were about to tell him off, the Imperial woodpecker returned with a mate and chick. Your mouth dropped - you just had to draw this. You’d never seen a family unit of Imperials together before - they were said to mate for life. It almost looked like the male and female were showing off their young, but why? You slowly grabbed your notebook and pencils, sketching on the clean opposite page. You drew the family unit from various angles until they flew away once more. As you were putting the finishing touches on your sketches, you felt Marco peering over your shoulder.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, crushing the notebook to your chest. “I told you, they’re private!”

“You really are very good,” Marco complimented you. “What was that bird on the opposite page? It looked interesting.”

“None of your business.” He was a nosy guy, for a pirate. You hoped he hadn’t seen too many of your phoenix drawings. You’d expanded on the real life sketches you’d had and were now drawing the phoenix in different positions, some of which were kind of funny. You had drawn the phoenix next to you under the waterfall, annoyed about being drenched with water, steam rising from its non-fiery head. It was childish but made you laugh.

You assessed the situation - Marco was tolerable enough, had a talent for bird calling, and wasn’t terrible looking. Maybe it would be OK if you spent another few hours with him. You didn’t need to become mates for life, after all. 

“We can go bird watching together, I’ll show you some hot spots. But don’t look at my drawings again.” You’d never extended an invitation like this to a man before, you hoped he felt special.

“It’s a date yoi,” Marco said, smiling. 

~~~

You’d had an unbelievably successful day bird watching with Marco. They almost seemed drawn to him, warbling and chirping to his astounding calls. Bird songs filled the air no matter where you went on the island. You wished there was some way for you to record the sounds, but the closest you could get was Marco’s ability to mimic them. You were elated - you were thankful for whatever weather was bringing all these birds to the island and to your sight. You were so happy that you were actually being friendly with Marco. He was surprisingly knowledgeable about birding, despite his protests that he wasn’t a professional. He had a dry sense of humor, matching your own, and had even made you laugh a few times. It might have been your favorite date you’d ever been on. You even showed him some of your sketches of birds, not the phoenix of course, but some of the birds you’d seen together. He asked to keep one, and you wavered.

“I don’t give these out, they’re-”

“Private, I know yoi. It's OK, I’m not offended.” 

You were feeling generous and Marco was looking gorgeous. “Hold still for a moment,” you ordered, taking out your pencils. You did a rough sketch of Marco as a bird, complete with fluff on his head and glasses. Just something silly as a thanks for such a good day together. You ripped off the page and handed it to him. Marco looked at it, then at you.

“Are you sure …never mind.” Marco started to say something but stopped midway.

“You don’t like it? I’m sorry, it was just for fun.” You were feeling self conscious, you didn’t show your drawings often.

“No, I like it a lot yoi. But isn’t it missing something?” Marco said, looking down at the paper.

“Hm, I don’t think so, let me see.” You crossed over to him, standing shoulder to shoulder. You glanced down at the drawing. 

“Nope, got your glasses, your hair, your half open eyes and even the tassel on your leg. Got everything,” you teased. You were close together, examining the paper. If you turned your head, you’d be face to face. You were breathing quickly from the close proximity.

“It’s missing your signature, so when you become a famous scientist I have your autograph.” You smiled, what a charmer. You turned to face Marco.

“I can give you something other than my signature.” You leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips.

[astralarchilocus]

I’m not normally the type to go on lengthy rants about stuff, but this shit has been frustrating me for such a long period of time that I need to get it off my chest. Biology based misinformation has always been widespread and problematic, but we’re entering a new era of this shit that’s reaching a whole new level of awful. “Pandas and koalas are evolutionary failures!” this, “honey badgers are immortal gods that fight whole lion prides and win” that, it’s all the same bullshit with the exact same set of origins. Carnivora fuckos, TierZoo, NatureIsMetal, Quora, etc. They’re all vile awesomebros or awesomebro infested hellscapes that have managed to successfully misinform a legitimately terrifyingly high amount of people. It’s actually horrifying that you often can’t talk about a lot of these animals without people immediately regurgitating awesomebro tripe straight at your face.

“But is this even a problem, Comet? It just seems like something you’ve been overexposed to because of you being a biology person above all else.” Yes it is, and it’s an enormous one at that! Such a rapid circulation of misinformation like this on such a scale is going to have cascading impacts on the general knowledge around animals and a lot of public perception around biology. And it’s likely going to pose a very legitimate threat to the conservation of a lot of animals. Remember how Jaws worsened already present stigma and misinformation present around sharks, and added to something that became so intense that it actually became a very serious threat to them as a whole? And that Jaws is a fictional story at the end of the day, and still managed to cause such immense misinformation in spite of that? This is literally that situation but with a much wider impact on animals as a whole (given that this insanity applies to animals in general instead of just one specific group), and with the misinformation being much more widely believed to be correct due to it not originating directly from a fictional book and film. Bit of a gross oversimplification, but it’s extremely bad. A prominent example of why this is such a big problem is the situation with cheetahs, who are literally only struggling because of issues (habitat loss and the accompanying population fragmentation and inbreeding) we caused, but are constantly being lambasted as evolutionary failures essentially solely because of the “horribly low hunting success” misconception and the fact they can’t fight predators that either outweigh them considerably, are social, or both, and that cheetahs literally cope fine with kleptoparasitism and just up the amount of kills they make in response to it with pretty little difficulty, on top of generally having the second highest hunting success rate among large-ish African mammalian carnivores. Cheetahs are getting all of their value as a species determined by whether they can fight other carnivores or not, and people try to sneakily obscure that fact by using the actually legitimate inbreeding issue as a strawman to support the “cheetahs are getting outcompeted and would go extinct anyways” bullshit. And this is all going to make conservation efforts to try and protect or save them that much more troublesome, because few are going to bother paying funds for something they deem a useless evolutionary failure. And getting the funds for such conservation efforts is difficult enough as is even without that being considered. Combine that with the fact that said conservation efforts are effectively useless at stopping or at least weakening the actual problems without enough funding to properly financially support such things, and I think it’s abundantly clear how much of a cascading impact this has on everything. And as said earlier, this isn’t only applying to cheetahs, but to so many other animals as well. We are entering what could legitimately turn into a dark age regarding biology stuff, and it is terrifying how omnipresent this shit is becoming. The misinformation is so widespread and commonplace among people currently that it’s almost definitely impossible to properly reverse by now, but that doesn’t mean we should just give up. Now more than ever, we need to fight back against this shit and keep it from getting even worse.

Oh, and to add insult to injury, there is a very strong correlation between awesomebros and bigotry, and most of the stuff just talked about almost definitely has inherent roots in anthropocentrism, general human bias, the aforementioned bigotry, etc. And if fighting back against bigotry isn’t enough of an additional motivator to fight back against this shit, I don’t know what is at this point.

[emilybeemartin]

Inktober Days 16-18

Day 16: Angel

The story goes that a Methodist minister visiting Zion in 1916 saw this soaring, narrow slice of a peak and remarked that only angels could land there. Nowadays Angel’s Landing sees millions of ordinary angels attempting to reach the summit every year, and the photos of crammed conga lines hiking up and down are famous even outside the NPS. For those in park management, it’s become a symbol of the delicate balance we’re tasked to maintain—our dual mandate to preserve these lands unimpaired for future generations while allowing open access for the benefit and enjoyment of the people. Preservation and recreation. How to provide both? Sometimes it feels like a conundrum of Biblical proportions.

Day 17: Demon

Demons, devils, monsters, vermin—the wolves of North America have been given many labels in the centuries after European colonization. Trapped, hunted, and poisoned to near extinction in most places, they’ve been removed for so long that in many cases we don’t know what a healthy ecosystem is supposed to look like with them in it. The most famous example of wolf reintroduction is in Yellowstone, but in some parks, like North Cascades and Glacier, wolves weren’t reintroduced by humans. Because these parks are connected to larger tracts of wilderness, wolves merely slipped back in when our backs were turned, taking up the old niche they’d been filling for ten thousand years. Now we lucky few have a chance to spy one of these shy predators in the wild, see their tracks in the soil, or hear their mournful song.

Day 18: Saddle

Every Inktober, on my birthday, I draw myself in the prompt, usually as a witch. This year I’m back in the green and gray, and while I don’t actually patrol on horseback, this prompt gives a great nod to the Sermon on the Mount, a famous tidbit from Yellowstone’s history. Back when the park took a much different approach to wildlife management, one of the most popular things for visitors to do was attend a bear feeding program. Each night, rangers would dump the food waste from the hotel restaurants in an open garbage pit and the grizzly bears, which had learned what time to expect this each night, would swarm over the leftovers. The audience would sit in an amphitheater separated from the garbage pit by a protective ditch, and a ranger would sit astride a horse to tell the visitors all about the bears of Yellowstone. Hence, the “sermon on the mount.” The NPS has changed a lot since those days, and not just because feeding wildlife is now recognized as dangerous and damaging to man and beast. The attitude toward park programs has changed, as well. Interpreters now realize that it’s not enough to just spit facts at an audience. We’re charged with firing imaginations, provoking critical thinking, and stirring emotions to facilitate meaningful connections between the visitor and the resource. This role is what drives my love for this field. If I can inspire a visitor to explore more on their own, be curious about something new, or care more about a park's protection—that’s it. I’ve done something worthwhile.

[residentrookie]

jegulus reuniting in the afterlife microfic- wordcount: 1387; this was heavily (HEAVILY) inspired by the album folklore and i've incorporated several little references if anyone is interested. enjoy!!!

The world glows softly at the edges, and James Potter knows he’s dead. 

It’s all too picturesque, too perfect, down to the height of the sun, still perched above the trees but low enough to convince you it won’t burn to watch it set. James’ eyes catch on it and stay there for a moment, marveling at the brilliant cascade of light and color smeared across the sky, pink and orange and blue, a soft blue, like Harry’s blanket. 

It had been in his son’s crib when it happened. Lily was about to carry him upstairs and wrap him up in it, swaddling him in the gentle cotton, brushing back his dark hair as his eyes moved behind his lids, captivated by dreams. 

The landscape shudders a bit when he blinks against a pressure in his eyes, but comes back strong, the grass waving hello in the wind. He almost waves back. Wants to. It looks so welcoming, like something he could sink into and never reemerge from. 

The white house appears between one blink and the next. Or maybe it was always there. James feels like perhaps things come and go freely wherever he is now. The sun glints off the high windows and caresses the white shade of the wide porch, painting it a faint gold. There’s a figure seated in a rocking chair and James approaches it, wading through the waist high grass. 

If he could still feel things like surprise, he might have dared to try. Whatever he was expecting wasn’t this. 

“Regulus.” 

The name, the beautiful, cursed name that was once a comfort and later a torment. Regulus was a name that had curled up and died on his tongue; he alone had cared enough to stoke the embers, to keep it alive and by extension, the person attached to it. When he stopped, it went extinct. He aches to know he let it. 

Regulus was supposed to be missing. Not dead. Not here. His body was never recovered which meant… hope. It meant the real and visceral and painfully human Regulus Arcturus Black was compressed to exist in that liminal waiting space of ‘lost but not gone’. James had kept him there selfishly when all along he’d been here. Wherever ‘here’ is. 

“Where are we?” he asks, curiosity winning out. Regulus’ silhouette is a blur to his eyes. He’s a shape James can’t quite puzzle out, an amalgamation of colors he doesn’t know the names of. Regulus stains the world around him like a bleeding watercolor, as if being here for so long has made him blend into his surroundings, melting into the matter with the sorrowful ease of a weeping painting instead of keeping a firm shape. Still, he's so beautiful. James can’t recall his face exactly, but he knows he loves it. 

“I don’t know,” Regulus answers, and James basks in the sound of his voice. “I never thought to ask.” 

James doesn’t question the logic behind that sentiment but takes his seat beside a slowly rocking Regulus. The sun looks just as beautiful here as it did standing in the field.

“So this is where we go. When it’s over.” James knows he should feel something other than a steady, pulsing calmness emanating from his center. He should be terrified and raging and desperately, wretchedly distraught. He had a life, a really fucking good one. A wife he loved fervently. A son he would do anything for. His friends. People he wanted to see again. But then, Regulus was always one of those people James wanted to see again, and here they are now. Together at the edge of… somewhere. 

“Are you surprised I’m here?” Regulus asks. 

“I didn’t want you to be here. I wanted to beat you here. I wanted—” he pauses, feeling that ache in his center flicker a little with some foreign emotion. “I wanted to be wrong. But I knew, really. Of course I knew.” He faces Regulus, the blurred shape of him. “You would have come back to me if you could have. Wouldn’t you?” 

Their love had been such a small mark etched into the loveline of his palm, hovering somewhere above his horribly short lifeline. Just a blip, really, a drop in the ocean. But oh, how it echoed across the fabric of his life. How it ricocheted. The drop, the ripple, the tidal wave. Even when dead in his mouth, the name Regulus was engraved onto his heart forever. 

James knows that Regulus is smiling. “Always. I wouldn’t have made you wait.” 

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?” James questions. “Waiting for me?” 

Regulus seems to shrug. “You waited for me. It was only fair.” 

The rhythm of his rocking reminds James of some ancient comfort, the cadence of a mother’s steps while a child rests in the womb, waiting to be born. The full circle of life stops here, at death, at the slow rocking of his chair on a wrap-around porch. How fitting that it should end the way it began. 

The thought of mothers brings to mind his own. Will she come too, and share a seat with them on their porch? It makes him think of Lily, the mother of his child. He died before he could make sure she was safe. Something like fear flares in his gut. He knows, somehow, that he didn't save her.

“Don’t worry. You’re with them, too,” Regulus murmurs, assuaging it. James can’t help but blink at that. 

“I am?” 

“Yes. You’re everywhere your soul has touched.” His eyes open and land on James, for the first time offering him something to latch onto. They’re still that dusty gray-green, the cold, unliving stone sprinkled with lichen’s defiant life. “You’re infinite, James Potter. You’re everything.” 

The lines of his eyes flood, then spill over. He barely feels it. The sun glints off of his tears, still hanging at the perfect height in the sky. He knows with finality that it will never set. 

“Am I with Harry?” Unlike Lily, James is certain that Harry is still living. He feels farther away, farther from his reach.

“In every way you can be,” Regulus assures him, and he struggles to let that be enough. He thinks helplessly of Harry, his sweet, darling boy who sang with the birds and cried when he fell down. He was always trying to go everywhere so fast, too fast, and his little legs could never keep up with the rest of him. James wouldn’t be there to catch him anymore. 

He releases a breath and settles into himself. “I hope he can still feel me. And Sirius—” oh, Sirius, not Sirius, “I hope they can still feel me.” 

“I used to close my eyes and picture you sometimes,” Regulus says, just the breath of a confession. “When the wind blew. When the sun glowed your favorite color, that bright, beautiful red. When the grass whispered your name to me.” He pauses, letting them listen to the sounds around them. “Could you feel me then?” 

James thinks about it. Thinks about the rare lulls of stillness in his chaotic life, when even the wind didn’t dare rise above a whisper, like the world was holding its breath. It had felt like a caress, like someone reaching through the cracks of space and time to hold him tightly, to keep him together. All along it was Regulus, his Regulus, still holding on from lightyears away. 

“Yes,” he answers, the sudden clarity shining bright. “Even when I didn’t know it was you.” 

James looks down and grabs Regulus’ fingers gently, lacing their hands together. There is no shared pulse between them, no trace of the hot, sweating palms that had grasped for each other in dark rooms and hidden corners. But there is no need for shadows and secrets now. There is no one here to witness this touch. There is no one who might judge them for reaching out to each other now. In another life, in their past life, they may have paused before staking claim on each other in the daylight. 

But it’s just James. It’s just Regulus. It’s the sun and the trees and the grass waving hello. Or maybe goodbye. Or maybe it's just waving to feel the wind. 

James lifts his hand and waves back.