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cyripticchronicler · 15 days ago

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Hii idk if you take requests rn so feel free to ignore this! (first time requesting, kinda nervous)

I loved all of your marauders works (and CM too btw), and I desperately need a remus x shy!reader smut if you’re comfortable (can be fem or gn)

imagine this, he has to initiate most milestones in their relationship and be patient and understanding. BUT when they slowly build up to sex she’s all blushy and tense because she’s not in complete control of what’s happening and she discovers that’s she actually wants to be the dominant one.

idk if it makes sense i hope it does

also i had my birthday just a few days ago so it could be birthday sex☺️

thank youuu

Confetti and Cupcakes (18+)

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Remus Lupin had planned the perfect, intimate celebration for your birthday. As the night winds down, still drunk on the glee that was the day, you realise that a need to take control rests under your shy demeanour. Remus is more than happy to oblige.

TW: Smut, pda, reader getting eaten out, not that proofread (lmk if there are any mistakes!)

A/N: Happy late birthday sweetie!! I cried over Supernatural while writing this and then my cat brought it a bird :( Enjoy!

Masterlist Remus Lupin Masterlist

It was your birthday.

You had a party hat on your head, confetti in your hair, and sore cheeks from smiling so much in the last hour, the giddy feeling rushing through your body.

You didn’t want to do much - just spend time with people you were comfortable with. Remus had promised to organise a little get-together, telling you to just ‘relax and look pretty.’ You blushed for what felt like forever before agreeing. And you were thankful you did.

Despite only being together for four months, Remus knew you like the back of his hand. He knew exactly how you’d want to celebrate. His shared apartment with Sirius and James was decorated with many pink and white balloons, sunlight pouring through the window and giving them a sheer-like look.

He made sure to keep the decorations to a minimum, not wanting to overwhelm you, knowing how shy you were with these things. Though he couldn’t stop Sirius from grabbing a popper from behind his back and spraying confetti everywhere, regretfully. Remus made sure to only invite people he was sure you’d be comfortable around; James, Sirius, Lily, Marlene and Alice.

You were grateful that Remus considered your quiet demeanour when planning. You weren’t comfortable in large groups of people you didn’t know well, and you didn’t like too much attention on you. This was why Remus organised a movie night where everybody’s attention was on your favourite movie instead of you.

He was lazing beside you, having initiated a cuddle session, your head resting on his chest, cheeks flushed as you struggled to pay attention to the movie. “You okay, lovie?” He kisses behind your ear and your heart flutters in response. “Yeah. Thank- thanks for tonight. I love it.” His fingers traced small patterns on your arm, some drawings of hearts, others of stars.

You want to hug him back more, instead of just a hand on his leg. You want to shove your head in his neck, wrap your arms around his chest and tangle your legs with his. But your nervousness is too strong, you're too shy. Longing pulls at your heart, but you can’t muster up enough courage to do anything about it.

His cheek squished against your head, the arm wrapped around your arm pulling you impossibly tighter. “Of course. You deserve it.” He craned his neck to whisper in your ear, breath hot against your skin, emitting goosebumps. “Do you want to sneak off for a moment? I’ve got a cupcake and candle prepared for you; I figured you wouldn’t want everyone watching you.”

You nod and then he’s pulling you into his body, dragging you into his bedroom. Sirius wolf whistles and you visibly cringe, a hand moving to cover your face.

You hear Remus leave, hurrying to the kitchen before returning. His calloused hand reaches up to grip your wrist, slowly pulling it away from your face to reveal your heated cheeks.

Candlelight flickers in his bright eyes, placed atop a pink-iced cupcake that he holds in his other hand. He sings a quiet and warm rendition of ‘Happy Birthday,’ the low timber of his voice sweet like honey to your ears.

Butterflies in your stomach and your cheeks ablaze, you quickly blow the candle out and let out a quiet giggle, pressing a hand to your mouth as happiness warms your bones.

“Thank you, Remus. I love you.” He places the cupcake to the side and with his hands on your cheeks he pulls you into a sweet, desperate kiss. Shivers trail down your spine yet you kiss him back, nervousness bubbling in your stomach.

“I love you, too.” He pecks your lips again. “Let’s go back out; don’t want them getting the wrong idea.” You let him pull you back into the living room, cupcake in your hands as you continue cuddling on the sofa.

⋆˙⟡🪶─ .✦📜⊹₊ ݁.

Remus was cleaning up, sleeves rolled up his arms, and his hair was over his forehead. You watched from the couch, fingers fiddling together, while your heart fluttered in the way it always did when you watched him.

He looked up and caught your gaze, draining the kitchen sink and wiping his wet hands. He smiled, walking over to you. “You’re staring,” He teased.

Your cheeks burned, tilting your head back to look at him as he towered over your sitting form. “No,” You denied pathetically.

“It’s okay if you are.” He tilts your head up gently, fingers warm against your skin. “I stare at you all the time.” Your stomach rolled at his words.

“Oh.” You laugh nervously, clenching your sweaty hands. His lips perk up, nose slowly trailing up your heated cheek before moving his lips to meet yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut. His lips were warm and familiar, unhurried as he leaned into you. Your breath hitched, a shaking hand moving to grip the hair at the nape of his neck.

His hand moved to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing soothingly against your cheek. He deepens the kiss, leaning into your body, your back slumped against the couch.

A sigh breaks out of your lips when he pulls away, having to bite your lip to stop yourself from pulling him back into you. He doesn’t stray far from you, his cheeks flushed red and his lips swollen. He manoeuvres so he’s sitting beside you.

“Let me know if I’m going too fast, okay?” You nod, mind whirring with nerves and excitement mixed together. His lips return to yours again, more intense this time. The kiss deepened and you felt his hand slide up the back of your neck.

A shiver went down your spine at the passion that poured into the kiss, the pounding of your heart suddenly overwhelming. Thoughts raced through your mind before you could stop them. Were you doing this right? Does he notice how much you’re shaking? The knot in your stomach grew until you hesitated, pulling back ever so slightly despite your body’s protests.

Remus noted your hesitation and stopped immediately, his forehead still brushing yours yet his eyebrows were furrowed ever so slightly. “Are you okay?” His thumb kept brushing against your skin, almost lulling you to sleep. “We can stop.”

You shook your head, waves of frustration at your nerves bubbling to the surface. “No. I don’t want to stop,” you blurt, words pouring out of your mouth before you can stop them.

He smiled gently, a hint of amusement laced in his eyes. “Okay. Just tell me what you need.”

What you needed. The question hung in the air, waiting to be answered. You find a spark of courage buried deep inside you and grip it tightly.

Choosing not to think about your actions too much, you shifted closer and brought your hands up to hold Remus’ face in your hands. Surprise flickered in his eyes, fueling your desire. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his again, the kiss no longer soft and hesitant, but now determined.

Remus let out a low sound of surprise, his hands instinctively moving to your waist, letting you take the lead as your fingers slipped into his soft hair once again, kissing him harder.

With your heart pounding for an entirely new reason, you pulled back, shoulders shaking with laboured breaths. His eyes darkened slightly, his lips parted as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“Well,” He murmured after a beat, voice low and raspy with desire. “This is new.”

Your lip travels between your teeth, embarrassment colouring your cheeks when you realise how bold you have been. “Was that- is that…okay?”

His hands brushed up and down your sides, and the heat of his hands fell through the thin fabric of your T-shirt. “More than okay,” He muttered, lips curving into a crooked smile. “I like you when you’re like this.”

A grin paints your face as the nervousness shaking your bones melts into a warm sort of freedom. With your nerves settled you're much more comfortable with shifting your legs on either side of his thighs.

His hands grip your waist gently, his eyes flicking up to yours. Despite the surprise that costs his features, his eyes darken, and your pulse quickens at the sight.

“Is this okay?” You breathlessly ask, fingers skimming the collars of his sweater, your actions growing bolder as you push the sweater up, revealing a strip of pale skin.

You fiddle with the hem of his sweater and he hums, bringing his hands to your back. “More than okay, love. Do whatever you want to me.” You clench your hands around the fabric, yanking slightly. “Can we…go to your room?”

“Lead the way.” You stand up, trying not to look awkward. You take his hand in yours, pulling his arm behind you as you head to his room. High on dopamine, you let out a shy giggle, using your back to nudge his door open, eyes still tracked on Remus’ eyes that swim with desire.

The back of your knees hit the edge of his plush bed, and you pull Remus to your chest, spinning you both around so you can push him down on the bed. The mattress sinks below his body as he props himself on his elbows.

You stand there for a moment, some of your earlier nervousness bubbling up. One look at the way Remus looks at you - so filled with love and care - has you pushing that anxiety down, replaced with a fire-filled lust.

Your legs return to their earlier destination astride his lap, hands resting on his shoulders. “I don’t…I’m not sure what to do,” You admit embarrassedly. Sure, you’ve had sex before but not with someone who makes you feel as though you’re on top of the universe like Remus does.

He nods in understanding, a kind smile tracing his lips. His right hand gently rubs your thigh, dangerously close to your core. “Do whatever makes you feel good.” Biting your lip in acknowledgement, you trail your lips up his throat and place wet, sloppy kisses at his pulse point.

His responsive groans have your legs squeezing tighter around his hips, your core clenching around nothing. You nip and suck at a spot behind his ear, hips subconsciously moving against his.

His large hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your skin. Gently shoving his hands off, you grip the hem of your shirt and yank it off in quick movements, arms circling his neck and pulling him into a desperate kiss, hips still thrusting eagerly.

A lone finger trails down the crease of your spin, a low moan emitting from your mouth, muted by his lips. He undoes the strap of your bra with one quick movement of his hand and you pull away to let the straps fall down your arms, chucking the flimsy fabric somewhere random. “I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you so much, too,” he murmurs back, his eyes half-lidded and hazy, looking up at yours in adoration.

You move onto his shirt next, ripping the clothing off and lightly scratching your nails down his chest. His lips find your jaw, leaving passionate kisses over your heated skin. You throw your head back in pleasure, a loud moan falling from your parted lips.

Hands trailing down his bare chest, you hook your fingers in the belt loops of his trousers before moving to take them off completely, shaking hands moving to the zipper.

You move off of him so he can take them off completely, pulling down your pants and kicking them to the side. He stands, bare in just his boxers and pulls you into him by the waist, head tilted as he captures you in a slow, gentle kiss.

“You’re perfect, Y’know?” His words were slurred like he was drunk. You can’t help but shy away from his gaze, finding it ridiculous that you're shy, even at a time like this. “So are you.” Your hands trace the thin lines of his scars, meaning every word you say. It’s his turn to blush and you kiss his reddened cheeks before moving to lie down in the middle of the bed.

Remus is quick to follow you, towering over your flushed frame, arms on either side of your head. He leans down to plant a kiss on your swollen lips, a sharp burst of pleasure exploding in your stomach.

He slowly trails downwards, open mouth grazing against your skin before his lips wrap around your breast, sucking and biting gently. You push his head down further, his chuckle fanning across your bare stomach until you have him where you want.

He places a kiss over your clothed clit and a shudder runs through you. “Can you-“ You don’t even get your sentence out before he’s got your underwear down your legs.

“Don’t even have to ask.” And then he’s eating you out like a man starved. A hand in his hair is enough for you to control his movements, tugging and relishing in the groans that shake your core.

Your legs move to rest across his shoulders, the heels of your feet pressing into his back. Your hips thrust up, his nose nudging against your clit as you hold his face to your core.

Your legs shake and tighten around his neck, back arching against the mattress. Your body was on fire, each flick of his tongue and grip of his hands against your thighs setting off fireworks deep in your core, the tight bubble of your pleasure ready to burst at any moment.

And it does burst. Loud moans escape your parted lips, your body convulsing in pleasure, sweat dripping down your sticky skin. “Fuck.”

He pulls away when his touches become too sensitive, bringing his cum-soaked fingers between his lips, groaning at the taste. You shove your head into the pillow at the sight, an embarrassed whine falling from your lips that has him chuckling smugly.

His chuckle turns into a quiet moan, your hand having trailed down to palm him through the thin fabric of his boxers. His head falls to the crook of your neck, hand moving between the waistband of his boxers to grip his growing cock.

You pull his dick out, gripping the edge of his tip and using the leaking precum to stroke him tightly. His heavy breaths fan your neck, his hips thrusting into your fist, intoxicated by your touch.

His heavy moans have your mind spinning, your confidence growing each time he calls out your name. You’re prepared to make him cum like this but he pulls away before he can. “If I’m going to cum, it’s going to be inside you, my love. Is that okay?”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach. “It’s more than okay…Can I- can I be on top? Please?” Eyes dark with desire, he nods without any hesitation, kicking his boxers off and leaning against the headboard of his bed.

You straddle him, holding his dick as you slowly sink down on him, mouth falling open at the delicious stretch. “Remus,” You cry, hands clawing at his shoulders.

“I know, baby. I know.” You experimentally roll your hips, his dick skipping further inside you. His hands land on your body, one fondling your breast while the other moves to your core and tightly circles your clit.

Slowly, pain turns into pleasure and your hips roll faster, back arching as his thick tip hits your walls. “You feel so good,” Remus moans out, his hair stuck to his forehead.

Inhibitions gone, your moans fill the room, hips slapping together whilst you chase your high, sheer determination and lust fogging your mind. His arms are familiar and comforting, wrapped around your waist while he pulls you in for a kiss, a clash of teeth and a fight for dominance.

The smell of sweat fills the room, the orange of the evening sunset pouring through the open windows and emitting a golden glow over your two bodies. Remus had never looked prettier, a furrow between his brows and low whines escaping his lips.

It’s no surprise that you finish as fast as you do, with the way his hips slam up against yours and his hands grope anything he can touch, you're a goner, putty in his gentle grip. “Remus I’m going to-“

You're crying out before you can finish your sentence, the coil in your stomach snapping and unwinding quickly and you gasp loudly.

Wetness drips down your inner thighs, the tight clenching of your core enough to bring Remus to his completion, his grip tightening and his thrusts stuttering.

He slumps against the headboard with a satisfied groan and you follow suit, breasts pressed up against his sweaty, glistening chest. “That was amazing,” You state, cheeks flushing at the thought of what you two had just done, shyness already returning.

He chuckles at your red skin and the way you avoid his eyes, pinching your cheek playfully. “Happy birthday, honey.”

Best. Present. Ever

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slut4monsterz · 6 months ago

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Yan!black panther oc :3

It was starting to get dark fast. You hadn't realized just how large the forest was. You come here all the time! Just never this far..maybe this wasn't the best idea. It was only meant to be a quick trip to go and gather some berries. Your cottage was only a brisk walk away from the tree line, you should have turned back hours ago. But there was so many flowers, and pretty birds, and a bunch of cute deer, and oh, the sunset was just too gorgeous to miss, and... well its not import now. Not when you start to get goosebumps down your arms and the heavy feeling that someone or rather something is watching you. The sky once an array of yellows and pinks now begins to dull, the deer and the birds are long gone by now. The feeling of being watched doesn't leave with them.

Your legs burn and ache you need to find somewhere to sit. maybe somewhere to die. anything is better than this. the sky is pitch black now; not even the stars are visible through the thick tops of the trees. Ahead of you there's a stream and a huge tree barley visible. you definitely aren't' going the right way or getting back home any time soon but this will have to do for now. the ground underneath you is cold as you lean against the tree and close your eyes. Hoping that this was all some bad dream and you'll wake up back at home with fresh berries to eat.

But unfortunately for you that was not the case. There was a very quiet and faint thud behind you followed by what sounded like footsteps, just barley noticeable but you heard it. And it terrified you. You squeezed your eyes closed tighter, maybe this really is where it ends. You waited and waited for death to come, or to be eaten or killed or- but nothing came.

You cracked your eyes open the tiniest bit. Whatever was about to kill sure was taking its time. You look up and are met with unblinking glowing yellow eyes. startled, you yelp and scooch back away from the tree. The eyes don't move. "uhm...hello?" your voice is meek and quiet, just below a whisper. The eyes shift seemingly looking directly into your soul. "aren't you going to eat me already? its er.. not very nice to scare me like this..." A dark chuckle echoed around you, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

"Eat you? now why would I do that?" the eyes moved towards you getting so close to you that you can feel its breath on your face. "uh, because...uhm, your hungry?" "Not hungry enough to eat you, dear. Humans aren't really my taste, you do look quite appetizing though, I must admit."

As your eyes adjusted to the dark his features became more visible. His inky black hair and dark skin come into view, the most noticeable however were the ears perched atop of his head and the swaying tail behind him.

"I've been watching you for a while...you just looked so innocent, all scared and lost in my territory." He pauses and you feel a cold hand rest on your cheek. "what are you doing so far into the forest anyway? silly human, don't you know that it's dangerous?" You stare at him wide eyed unsure of what exactly to respond with. So something was watching you... He pulls his hand away sitting up. "o-okay then, what do you want from me?"

He cocks his head to the side staring at you "Silly girl, I don't want anything from you. I want you." His tail comes back into view and wraps itself around your upper thigh, keeping you from moving too far. "I don't understand..." "That's okay. You will eventually." He rises to his full height looming above you as you look up in confusion and fear. His bright eyes were the last thing you saw before he swooped you up in his arms, holding onto you tight and taking you further into the woods.

first post yippie!!!

#yandere #monster fudger #monster x human #yandere hybrid #yandere oc #yandere thoughts #yandere x darling

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bethanythebogwitch · 1 year ago

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Wet Beast Wednesday: ocean sunfish

Everybody knows ocean sunfish, right? Those giant, slow, silly-looking, parasite-ridden morons that eat jellyfish and can't defend themselves from predators really are the worst fish right?

(GIF: Lex Luthor screaming "WRONG!" from the movie Superman Returns)

First of all there's no such thing as a "best" or "worst" animal and judging animals by human standards of what is cool or successful is silly because our standards are not even universal among humans, let along other species. Secondly, the closest thing we have to a way to judge a species is how successful it is in its niche and sunfish are doing pretty good, thank you very much. Today I'll be talking about sunfish and how they are not bad fish at all.

(Image: a Mola mola located near the surface of the ocean, with the tip of its dorsal fin and part of its head breaching the surface. It is a round fish with no tail, only a wrinkly region of its body. Its dorsal and anal fins are long and slender The eyes and mouth are proportionately small. It is a pale white with light grey spots. A SCUBA diver is visible in the background. End ID)

Ocean sunfish, or molas, are members of the family Molidae, which is divided into five known species across three genuses. Im mostly going to be talking about members of the genus Mola, but I'll mention the other two as well. Molas are known for their size and odd appearances, looking like someone chopped a fish in half and the front half went swimming off on its own. They are members of the order Tetraodontiformes, making them cousins to pufferfish, triggerfish, boxfish, and others. While many members of that order are known to be highly poisonous, molas are not. They also lack several other common traits. Despite being bony fish, most of the mola skeleton is made of cartilage and they do not have swim bladders, forcing them to actively swim to maintain their position in the water column. Instead of a tail and caudal fin, sunfish have a structure called the clavus. The clavus is formed mostly from connective tissue and is used as a rudder. Because the clavus is mostly made of connective tissue, damage to it is not particularly harmful to the fish. There have been molas found alive and well that have had portions of their clavus eaten by predators. Because of their shortened stature, molas have the fewest vertebrae of all fish. The dorsal and anal fins are elongated and are used to provide propulsion by flapping back and fourth similarly to how birds wings move, albeit slower. Minute alterations in the angle each fin moves through the water help with steering, while more sharp turns are aided with jets of water ejected through the mouth and gills. Like their other Tetraodintid relatives, mola teeth are fused together into a beak-like structure that prevents them from closing their mouths. They also have some more regular pharyngeal teeth in the backs of their mouths. Some reports say that the fish can make noises by grinding the pharyngeal teeth together. Mola skin is thick and rough, described as being similar to sandpaper in texture. Like most fish, the skin is covered in a layer of protective mucus.

(Image: a mola sunbathing. It is positioned with one side of its body facing the surface. Its body is just under the water's surface. End ID)

The three species in the genus Mola are Mola mola, the ocean sunfish and most well-known of the molas, Mola alexandrini, the giant, southern, or bumphead mola, and Mola tecta, the hoodwinker sunfish. Mola mola has an average weight of 247 to 1000 kg (545 to 2205 lbs), mouth to clavus length of 1.8 m (5.9 ft) and dorsal to anal fin length of 2.5 m (8.2 ft), though some individuals can get much large. The largest individual on record had a length of 3.3 m (10.8 ft), height of 3.2 m (10.5 ft) and weighed 2300 kg (5100 lbs). M. alexandrini is the largest of the species. The largest known southern sunfish measured in at 2744 kg (6049 lbs) and 3.25 m (10.66 ft) from mouth to clavus, making it the largest known bony fish in the world. They can be distinguished from M. mola by the presence of bumps on the forehead and chin, a more rounded clavus, and differently-shaped scales. M. tecta is known as the hoodwinker sunfish because it was long mistaken for one of the other two species and was only identified as a separate species in 2015 after the body of one washed up in Christchurch, Aotearoa/New Zealand and was examined by scientists. Because it has only recently been discovered, little is known about this species. They appear to have the same range of sizes and weights of the other two species and can be distinguished by a slimmer body shape and a smooth clavus. All three species are found in tropical and temperate waters worldwide, though M. alexandrini and M. tecta are more commonly found in the southern hemisphere.

(Image: a Mola alexandrini underwater. It is distinguishable from Mola mola by the two bumps above and below its facial region, making it look lumpy. It is surrounded by striped cleaner fish. A SCUBA diver is in the background. End ID)

(Image: a Mola tecta seen from the side. It is smoother than the other two species. More of its body is grey with white spots. End ID)

Molas are open-ocean dwellers that live life in the slow lane. For a long time, it was believed they were moved around by ocean currents they could not swim against, making them plankton. We now know they not only can swim against the current, they are capable of bursts of speed fast enough to breach the water's surface and briefly go airborne. Sunfish are named for their habit of basking at the surface of the water. It was formerly believed they spent most of their time at the surface, but thanks to tagging, we know they make frequent dives into the deep ocean. They likely bask at the surface to warm up between dives. You may not expect something as slow as a sunfish to be a predator, but they are. Much of their diet consists of gelatinous animals including jellyfish, siphonophores, ctenophores, and salps, though they will also eat small fish, fish larvae, squids, crustaceans, and even seagrass. Because they can't chew, sunfish move prey into and out of their mouth by rapidly switching between sucking water in and spitting it out in order to shred the prey into pieces small enough to swallow. Special mucus lining the digestive system may protect the molas from the stinging tentacles of their prey. Molas and other jellyfish-eaters like the leatherback sea turtle play an important role in the ecosystem by keeping jellyfish populations down. Jellyfish are not particularly nutritious, so the sunfish need to eat a lot of them to survive, something they seem to be pretty good at. Being slow and having a very low-energy lifestyle helps the fish survive on a less-nutritious diet, making them very energy efficient. One thing molas get a lot of flack for online is having lots of parasites (with up to 40 known species). This doesn't really make sense. Every species has parasites. An animal in the wild that doesn't have parasites is vanishingly rare. Having parasites doesn't make an animal suck, it makes them ordinary. Because of their parasite load, molas are frequent visitors to cleaner fish, who will eat their parasites. Molas will also let seabirds land on them and eat their parasites while they rest on the surface. The molas attract birds by splashing at the surface. Adult molas have few natural predators, but are hunted by sharks, sea lions, and orcas. Interestingly, sea lions have been known to kill molas apparently for sport, ripping off the fins and then leaving the mola to die.

(Image: a mola seen from the front. Multiple smaller fish are picking parasites off of its skin. End ID)

Molas are broadcast spawners who release their gametes into the water alongside each other. A female mola can release 300 million eggs at a time, more than any other vertebrate. Newly hatched sunfish are 2.5 millimeters long and are often cited as having the largest discrepancy in size between juvenile and adult of any vertebrate. An adult mola can be 60 millions times the weight of a larva. The larvae look very different than adult, lacking their dorsal and anal fins but having pufferfish-like spines. Juveniles school together for protection and become solitary as they age. The diet of the fish varies as they age, with younger fish feeding more on squid, worms, crustaceans, and fish but becoming more reliant on jellyfish and other gelatinous prey as they age. We don't know the growth rate of molas, but a juvenile in the Monterey Bay Aquarium grew from 26 to 339 kg (57 to 880 lbs) in 15 months, suggesting they grow rapidly. The maximum age of molas is unknown, though individuals in captivity have lives for up to 10 years.

(Image: a mola larva. It is a brown ball with large, black eyes and no visible fins. It is covered in transparent, conical spines. End ID)

The two non-Mola sunfish are Ranzania laevis, the slender sunfish and Masturus lanceolatus, the sharptail sunfish. Both are alone in the genuses, but other species are suspected. I also found references to other species in Masturus, but could find literally no information about them other than that Masturus oxyuropterus is listed in some records. The sharptail sunfish looks very similar to Mola mola and reaches similar sizes, but its clavus has an extension that looks like a short tail. They were initially believed to be deformed molas before being recognized as a separate species. Unlike molas, sharptail sunfish are rarely seen at the surface, preferring to stay in deeper water. The slender sunfish is the smallest of the family, reaching up to a meter long. While we don't know much about them, we know their diet includes a lot of fast-moving squid, indicating they can move faster than their much larger relatives.

(Image: a sharptail sunfish lying on a blue tarp. It looks similar to a Mola mola , but with black clavus and fins. At the back of the clavus is a triangular extension. End ID)

(Image: a person holding a slender sunfish. The fish is small enough to be held and has a longer and skinnier body than other sunfish. Its body is a shiny silver with blue lines. End ID)

Mola mola is classified as vulnerable by the IUCN while the other species are classed as either data deficient or least concern. Molas are vulnerable to strikes by boats and bycatch. Another danger to them is plastic bags, which can easily be ingested after being mistaken for a jellyfish. The bags can suffocate the fish or block their digestive tracts. Despite their size, molas are docile and not dangerous to humans. I found one example of a mola harming a human and it happened when the fish jumped out of the water and landed on a boat. Allegedly, some fish have learned to recognize and approach SCUBA divers. Molas are difficult to keep in captivity due to their size, the amount of space the need, and special feeding needs, so only a few aquariums have them. Molas are captured for food, with the biggest markets being in Taiwan and Japan, where they are often called mambos.

(Image: a SCUBA diver attempting to hand feed a small mola. End ID)

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osiiiris · 6 months ago

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A beautiful day

Yes, there is one explicit reference to my favorite angel’s statue (do you know which one?). I finally got the chance to draw Iyrin with wings and took the chance.

So… I had started this before my fic IYRIN reached 5000 readers on Wattpad, to celebrate, and I’m posting it as it almost at 8000. I’m very happy, thank you, so cheers queers 🥂

This in particular is a new scene that will be featured in the unreleased (yet) sequel No Peace in Hell (it is next in line). I have no specific reason why I chose this snippet in particular, I just liked how the scene came out. I had started with a more romantic scene but NAH, angst be upon ya!

Despite the macabre topic, all I can say is that this is a good and pivotal moment of the plot (snippet and context follows):

“That’s what’s left of us in the end.” Terzo looked at the grave and then turned around, briefly including the landscape in his sight. “I never really liked graves. He’s not really there.” Iyrin glanced at Terzo and then back at the grave. It was one of the many ways humans coped with death, they thought. They had witnessed various death ceremonies during their visits to Earth: fire, water, ground… rituals of any kind with what was left of their vessels, each one so hard to let go of. “What… would you prefer?” they asked hesitantly. “Embalmed.” Iyrin patiently waited for him to continue; they knew him too well to think that was the end of it. “Put on display in the Ministry forever, like a Greek statue. Naked.” They raised an eyebrow, slightly tilting their head down as if inviting him to finish. “…My dick well visible, fully erected,” he finally added. Iyrin nodded, satisfied. “‘Here lies Terzo Emeritus but his dick is still alive’, a nice line for an epitaph,” they murmured, glancing around. They were glad Terzo could still mask his discomfort with humor. They tightened their grip on his hand. “What would you really want?” Terzo stiffened, uneasy at the thought of his own death. “Cremated,” he said, narrowing his eyes at the grave. “You can scatter my ashes wherever you want, or keep them... I don’t know for what, honestly. That or anything that doesn’t imply being eaten by worms.” Iyrin blinked, surprised he was entrusting them with such an important decision. Perhaps he really couldn’t care less about what would be done with his remains. Terzo’s eyebrows twitched in a moment of clarity: were they really discussing his death and how he wanted to be disposed of? Was that really the point of the story? Then, after a few moments of silence, he resumed, “Do you understand this?” he asked, seemingly disconnected from the moment. Iyrin understood only after a bit what he meant. “Do you understand what it means to us when it is truly over?” But even though they knew he needed to be comforted, they found themselves unable to reply. After a moment of silence, Iyrin finally spoke. “I know what it means to me. All the humans I have loved… I lost all of them. Sometimes they ended up in places I could not reach. I lost everything, always.” Terzo frowned beside them. “Sometimes you just need to be the one that leaves first. That’s what I have always done.” After a few moments filled with silence, their lips moved again. “Eternity isn’t better,” they considered sadly. “You really cannot escape that.” Then, just like a child who gets distracted too easily, they looked around. The sky stretched out in a clear, dazzling shade of blue, while the air carried the light warmth of the late summer sun's rays. The only sounds around them were the cheerful chirping of birds and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. It seemed like even the voices had quieted, leaving their head in peace for a while. “Look…” they said, inviting him to appreciate the beauty around them, “It is such a beautiful day.” Terzo looked, and suddenly, he felt warmth enveloping him and the bright rays of light shining in his eyes, like a sun appearing brilliantly after an eclipse. Everything was still so full of life.

Backstory:

Iyrin is an angel (of a specific kind I won’t spoil here) who was kidnapped by a group of drunk Ghouls and finds themselves held hostage (or “guest”) in the Ministry.

Papa Emeritus III must handle the diplomatic incident, but we know how he is when an opportunity to play a bit with a new prey is served to him…

The story has two different endings, and one of them allows me to continue it. After the main story and the little spin-off, the final sequel will close this circle.

#One thing for sure when I draw: I ALWAYS pick the wrong black even though I have my favorite shade pinned in my palette #And I always realize it too late #the band ghost #the band ghost fanart #papa emeritus lll #terzo x oc #the band ghost fanfiction #terzo emeritus #oc: Iyrin #the band ghost comic #Very roughly done and can be surely improved but man I do what I can #I mean we’re not meant to be perfect here we’re just meant to enjoy stuff #Just realized that it may seem confusing because there are visions and flashbacks #but hey you know what you’ll die with me and my fever dreams today #OsirisBC-fanart

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deermouth · 4 months ago

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The blades like irises turning very fast to see you completely—steel-blue then red where the cut occurs—the cut of you—they don’t want to know you they want to own you—no—not own—we all mean to live to the end—am I human we don’t know that—just because I have this way of transmitting—call it voice—a threat—communal actually—the pelagic midwater nets like walls closing round us—starting in the far distance where they just look to us liked distance—distance coming closer—hear it—eliminating background—is all foreground—you in it—the only ground—not even punishment—trawling-nets bycatch poison ghostfishing—the coil of the listening along the very bottom—the nets weighed down with ballast—raking the bottom looking for nothing—indiscriminate—there is nothing in particular you want—you just want—you just want to close the third dimension—to get something which is all—becomes all—once you are indiscriminate—discards can reach 90% of the catch—am I—the habitat crushed and flattened—net of your listening and my speaking we can no longer tell them apart—the atmosphere between us turbid—no place to hide—no place to rest—you need to rest—there is nature it is the rest—what is not hunting is illustration—not regulated are you?—probing down to my greatest depths—2000 meters and more—despite complete darkness that surrounds me—despite my being in my place under strong pressure—along with all my hundreds of species—detritus—in extreme conditions—deepwater fish grow very slowly—very—so have long life expectancy—late reproductive age—are particularly thus vulnerable—it comes along the floor over the underwater mountains—scraping the steep slopes—what is bycatch—hitting the wrong target—the wrong size—not eaten—for which there is no market—banned—endangered—such as birds—sometimes just too much—no more space on the boat—millions of tons thrown back dead or wounded—the scars on the seabed—the mouth the size of a football field—and if there is no one there there is still ghostfishing—nets abandoned in the sea they continue through the centuries to catch—mammals fish shellfish—we die of exhaustion or suffocation—the synthetic materials last forever Ask us anything. How deep is the sea. You couldn't go down there. Pressure would crush you. Light disappears at 6000 feet. Ask another question: Can you hear me? No. Who are you. I am. Did you ever kill a fish. I was once but now I am human. I have imagination. I want to love. I have self-interest. Things are not me. Do you have another question. I am haunted but by what? Human supremacy? The work of humiliation. The pungency of the pesticide. What else? The hammer that comes down on the head. Knocks the eyes out. I was very lucky. The end of the world had already occurred. How long ago was that. I don’t know. It is not a function of knowledge. It is in a special sense that the world ends. You have to keep living. You have to make it not become waiting. Nothing is disturbingly visible. Only the outside continues but it continues. So you have to find the way to make the inside continue. Your entity is fragile. You are an object you own. At least you were given it to own. You have to figure out what ownership is. You thought you knew. You were wrong. It was wrong. There was wrongness in the mix. It turns out you are a first impression. Years go by. Imagine that. And there is still a speaker. There will always be a speaker. In the hypoxic zones is almost no more oxygen→then there is→no more→oxygen→for real→picture that says the speaker→who are you→where are you→going down into the dead zones→water not water→the deeper you go he says the→scarier it gets→because there’s→nothing there→there are no→fish→no organisms→alive→no→no life→so it’s just us→dead zones→bigger than the Sahara he says→the largest lifeless spaces this side of the moon→he says→she says→who is this speaking to me→I am the upwelling→I am the disappearing→hold on→just a minute please→hold on→there is a call for you

—Jorie Graham

#poems to turn you inside out because you just listened to the lord god bird by sufjan stevens and were already in your feelings about that #hi. i'm flayed. a fish on ice.#poetry #words #poem of the day #jorie graham

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littleplantfreak · 6 months ago

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The Wheel - Umemiya Hajime

(From my earlier post this morning about how Umemiya would do the voices from his kid's bed time stories. I don't think there's any CWs. It's SFW and a x reader? but that's all i think)

Umemiya’s always been a reader. Whether it was his parents reading to him when he was young, him reading to his siblings in the group home, or just the gardening books he began to read as he started taking an interest in it, books were always a staple to him. It’s no surprise when your first child’s room ends up having a huge bookcase full of books, along with a few scattered toys and a piggy bank placed high enough that your three year old can’t reach it. Every night before bed, your daughter picks an armful of books out before waddling over and throwing them down. To her, this is one or two books, even though it’s actually around ten if you counted. She never stays awake long enough to get through all of them, but her efforts are nothing if not valiant.

The three of you squish up on her small bed while her pudgy fingers grab the first book on the pile. You start the narration, and she’s running her hands on the pages, tracing little goats as they’re frolicking through the pages. Just as the troll begins to speak, your husband takes over the dialogue after slipping on his reading glasses.

“Who’s that going across my bridge?” Hajime grumbles in a deep voice, and you can see your daughter visibly perk up. As the little goat gets past the troll, he gets more dramatic, and at the climax, he pauses the story.

“Is he gonna hurt the big billy goat, daddy?” Your little girl asks, bottom lip trembling in upset.

“I’m not sure, little star. Do you want me to keep reading?” He brushes her hair back out of her face as she thinks about it. She looks at the big billy goat, hand passing over the picture again, and even though she’s about to tear up with worry, she grabs your fingers and squeezes them tight before telling him yes, she does want to hear it.

He starts again, explaining that the big billy goat rammed into the troll so hard, he flew off the bridge and was swept away by the river. Your daughter smiles, looking at the three billy goats happily munching on the grass, and you can’t stop a giggle from rolling past your lips.

“Daddy’s pretty good at the voices huh?” you ask, booping her nose gently.

“THE BEST!” She yells before picking up the next book from the pile as she explains that you’ll do the same thing as before and Hajime will be doing the high-pitched voice of a baby bird trying to find its mother that has you snorting into your hands.

When she has a play date with some neighborhood kids, her and her friends are enthralled by him reenacting the story of Peter Pan, sword fights, and all while you’re making lunch in the kitchen. Even after you adopt her younger brother, your daughter listens to the same stories he’s told a hundred times before with the same adoration, sometimes jumping in herself to voice the characters she really likes.

Your son, now a teenager in high school, sits at a table in the local library, book open to a page he hasn’t turned in the past 20 minutes. He’s hunched over it as if to study, but his eyes flicker over to the corner of the children’s section every so often. There, a group of younger kids crowd around on a circle carpet for the weekly reading time, hushed in awe of the man reading a story.

“…and the big billy goat winds up to run headfirst into the troll…and he gets eaten!” No longer quiet, the kids are howling and shouting, and your son’s neck snaps in the direction of his father. Shutting his book, he pushes out of his seat, walking to the edge of the carpet.

“Dad!” He blusters, a little too loud to be considered decent in a library. Hajime just tilts his head towards him, eyes locked on with a grin on his face.

“Hey tiger, thought you were studying,” he says, playing at surprise.

“That’s not how the story ends, and you know it,” his son's eyes are serious, his expression bothered. He’s heard this story countless times, and the big billy goat never loses.

“Really now?” Hajime slaps his hands on his thighs before standing up from his chair, holding the book out close enough for him to grab. “Why don’t you show us how it ends then?” He grins, scarred eyebrow cocked in challenge.

His son realizes the trap he’s fallen in, looking at the pairs of eyes now burning into him, urging him to finish the story the right way. “…Fine. But everyone’s gotta listen because I’m not going back and rereading it if you start giggling with your friends,” he says, grabbing the book and flipping its pages, rewinding a bit before the climax so it won’t confuse the ones who were thrown off by the fake ending earlier. Hajime sits down on the carpet with the rest of the kids cross-legged, watching his son start out slow and nervous, but eventually his tone changes and slips into a grumbled voice, the big billy goat about go head to head with the troll again.

By the end of the book, the kids are up and crowding him, asking if he'll pleeeease read another story! Just one more, Nii-san the caterpillar one! No, he's gonna like the one with the bats more-. and the flush on his face rivals Sakura's when he was younger.

You walk in just as the kids start showing your son different books, pulling on his pant legs, and you can't help but laugh. You look at your husband, who's not giving any aid whatsoever.

"So you're pawning off your jobs now? What happened to the reliable Umemiya Hajime?" You tease, giving him one of the drinks from your shopping bag.

Hajime hums at that, a smile on his face. "He just so happens to be equally reliable. I think he's got a knack for it," he whispers, pulling you close so you're hip to hip, his arm wrapped around your waist and pressing a kiss to your jaw.

"Right, and this has nothing to do with the text from our daughter saying she's coming to visit in a few minutes? You told her to come down here, didn't you?" Accusation evident in your voice, as you check the time from the last set of texts in the family group chat.Your son's been talked into reading Paddington as the kids quiet down in rapt attention.

He doesn't notice his big sister coming in and snapping a quick picture of the scene in front of her until his phone goes off, and he's turning pink, fumbling, and trying to make excuses as to why he's reading to a bunch of kids. No matter what, she'll end up teasing him about it, so he's at a loss. It doesn't stop him from coming back next week at the same time, when his dad makes the excuse that he'll have to cancel the reading time this week due to an appointment if he can't get someone to fill in.

#wind breaker #umemiya hajime x reader #mari writes #i titled it the wheel cause its a little cyclical and theres a song on the Tuck Everlasting musical album that kinda give me the vibes #im very very pleased i decided to keep in him adopting his second kid even if it's a one line thing #its quite important to me #i was gonna do names for the kids but i was like...then people cant make up their own in their head :(#the girl was gonna be hikari and the boy was gonna be ayato but i figured little star and tiger worked better as nicknames #gonna work on groceries again now :p

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imagines--galore · 9 months ago

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||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twenty-Two

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty-One,

A/N: And here is Zuko's inner turmoil :3

The sound of birds was what she noticed first.

Then it was the gentle rumbling of her bed.

Blue eyes blearily peeked in the early morning sunlight, the softness of her bed prompting her to bury herself deeper under her blanket.

The rumble came again.

Groaning softly, Orora sat up, the blanket covering her pooling around her waist as she yawned, blinking sleepily in the morning sun. Getting up from Appa's tail and stretching, she shuffled forward to stand in front of the bison. The bison rumbled again, pleased to see her.

Orora smiled, reaching out to gently hug the side of his giant head. "Thanks for keeping me warm buddy." She cooed, pressing a kiss against his fur. Appa groaned loudly in response, trying to snuggle his head against her. Of course, he was much too big. The sudden unexpected push had her tumbling to the ground and onto her butt. A soft laugh fell from her lips, as Appa snuggled his nose against her as an apology.

Looking around, she realized she was the first one up. Standing up, and giving Appa one last pat, she walked through their little camp, passing by everyone as they slept.

Toph with Momo snuggled up against her, prompting the older girl to reach out and cover the younger girl properly with her blanket. Sokka was snoring away with his mouth slightly open. Orora shook her head, wandering just how many spiders he'd eaten during the night by accident. Katara with her hair open, appearing even younger in her sleep with one arm stretched out beside her while the other rested under her head. Coincidentally, the arm stretched out was her left arm, which meant that her finger with the thread tied at the end was angled towards Aang, who was asleep a little ways away from Katara. Though, it was probably not by chance that his right hand was pointing towards Katara.

Her heart softened. Had they fallen asleep looking at their strings? Maybe seeing them glow? It was so obvious how much they cared about one another. Could she go as far as to call it love though?

Maybe.....

Glancing at her own string which hung lifeless and without a flicker of color, Orora sighed to herself before walking away.

Once she was a little ways away from the camp, she quickly stripped off her clothes. Standing in her underclothes, she gazed at her reflection as she untied her hair.

While the bags under her eyes had improved slightly after a good night's sleep, it appeared her three weeks of no eating spree had taken its toll on her. She looked weak and extremely thin. Whatever muscle she had gained over the months she had trained her water-bending had started to loose mass.

But it was her face that caught most of her attention.

Her once full cheeks were thin, with her cheekbones and jaw sticking out. Her eyes appeared gaunt and even wider in her now thin face.

All in all, she looked so unlike herself.

But that ended today, she promised herself, as she slowly stepped into the semi-warm water of the Spring.

As the water surrounded her, Orora closed her eyes, allowing herself to become one with her element. She'd barely used her bending in the past month, having had no passion or energy left for it.

The ground beneath her finally gave way, and she was floating in the water, slowly going even deeper. Tiny bubbles of air escaped her, her arms suspended in the water as if she were jumping in the air. Her hair pooled around her, framing her face.

Her ice blue eyes trained at the bright sky above the surface of the water.

After so many days of inner turmoil, where her heart, mind and soul had raged against one another, right then, at the very pinnacle of her element.

She felt free.

Her eyes closed, savoring the tranquility of it all................

But then they snapped open, the calmness that had been there before was replaced with a look of fierce determination.

Straightening herself, Orora pushed her arms down on either side of her, propelling herself through the water, and breaking the surface with a loud splash and out towards the sky.

She briefly hung in midair, the that had risen with her in the form of a whirlpool receding back into the spring. Then she was falling, but the girl quickly swung her arms around her body in a circular motion, creating an icy water slide which she skated down and into the spring.

Orora didn't stop there.

Creating multiple icicles, she threw them towards the sky, allowing them to hang in midair before they began their descent. The sharp ends glinted in the sunlight, but Orora was prepared. Armed with twin water whips she wrapped the ends around two of the oncoming icicles, and using them as ammunition, struck every other incoming target until the sky rained with tiny crystals glinting beautifully in the sunlight.

Standing atop a pillar of ice, the girl threw her arms forward, prompting several sharp thin discs of ice to dislodge from the pillar and fly through the air. The discs embedded themselves into the rocky wall of their haven. And they stayed there before the sun melted them away.

With the water coming up to her waist, Orora began to swing her arms around in a circular motion. A whirlpool formed in the middle of the lake, and with every repeated movement on her part, it grew and it grew. Once she was sure it would continue for a long while, she created a large ice disk for herself and once she had secured her feet using ice to encase them, she allowed herself to be sucked into the whirlpool. Several rocky outcroppings acted as her obstacles, which she had to clear by either jumping out of the way, or break apart using either a whip with an ice boulder attached to the end or a wave of water that was sharp and thin enough to cut through it. Not to mention that she had to keep her balance to make sure she didn't fall into the water.

Slowly the whirlpool she had created subsided on its own, leaving behind a smooth calm surface.

Panting heavily, with her arms and legs now burning, she moved on to the next session of her training.

Calming down.

Freezing a large block of ice in the shade of a rock to keep it from melting too quickly, she got to work.

Once she was finished with that, she moved on to the next one.

Then another.

Her mind was solely focused on the task, and despite the constant motion of her fingers, hands and arms her body appeared relaxed. The raging thoughts that plagued her were pushed to the back of her mind and she was so immersed in her work that she didn't realize she had an audience.

Three pair of curious eyes, and a curious pair of feet, had begun watching her almost since the beginning of her training. Now they watched her create art from four blocks of ice.

"Is that......" Katara trailed off, staring almost disbelievingly at what Orora had created. Aang, who was standing beside her nodded mutely.

Sokka was the first one to step forward, assessing what she had created with a critical eye while Orora was busy with her final ice block.

"Orora you made me too scrawny. I know I have more muscles then that." He pointed to the ice sculpture Orora had created of him. The girl in question didn't even look up from where she was bending the ice to create Aang's airbending tattoos in the ice sculpture of his likeness.

"That is exactly how you look Sokka, be glad I didn't give you Momo's ears because I can do that." She quipped, stepping away to analyze her work critically, her fingers moving to add tiny details in the ice here and there.

Katara moved to stand in front of her her likeness which was bent in a battle stance. "These are amazing! Have you always known how to do this Orora?" She asked, her finger tracing the hair loopies she used to have when wearing the attire of her Nation.

Orora, stepping away from Aang's sculpture, which the young Avatar quickly raced towards to examine, she shrugged. "I mean I have created small ice figures before as a hobby. Master actually encouraged it." She added with a small smile, placing a hand on Toph's shoulder and guiding her to where her ice sculpture glinted in the sunlight. "He said I could use my hobby as a way to calm down after a rather intense bending session."

She gestured to the spring which was now as calm as it could be. "Can you see anything with your feet Toph?" Orora asked, curious if the girl could feel the ice sculpture. Toph shrugged. "Not very clearly. I don't know." Orora hummed before taking Toph's hands and placing them against the cold surface of the sculpture.

"Here! Maybe you can feel what you look like by tracing along?" She suggested, to which Toph smiled and began to explore the contours of her face.

Aang stepped forward, smiling. "How does it feel? Using your bending again?" He asked. "Honestly?" Orora inhaled deeply before a smile pulled at the corner of her lips. "It felt really good."

A loud grumble sounded prompting Aang, Katara and Toph to look towards Sokka. "That wasn't me!" He protested, raising his arms to the sky and huffing in annoyance.

Orora patted her stomach. "No that was me. I'm starving." Katara grinned, happy to hear those words come out of Orora's mouth.

"Well lets get breakfast started then!" She said, reaching out to grasp Orora's hand. The two waterbenders ran off to, discussing what to make for breakfast.

Aang looked at Katara's sculpture, admiring how Orora had captured her beauty even in ice. "Aww man! And my nose is bigger too!" Sokka complained as Toph moved to trace her hands along Sokka's ice face, before feeling for his nose.

"Actually, she made it smaller then it really is."

"Hey!"

————————–

The one good thing about Ember Island was that he could walk around and no one would come up to him and annoy him because they had no idea who he was.

Of course that meant that he was mostly left alone with his thoughts and when Zuko was alone with his thoughts, well things tended to get dark.

Especially when he didn't have anything to distract him

Or rather anyone.

Rather just one person.

Orora.

As he sat on the beach under the shade of the umbrella he shared with Mai, Zuko couldn't help be think back on his most recent vision of Orora.

She'd silently cried in front of him for a few minutes before he had blinked and she was gone. Though that didn't mean she left his mind. On the contrary, the image of her tear-stained cheeks, sad eyes and hopeless expression was seared into his brain.

Kind of like the scar his father had seared in his face.

Why was she crying? Was it because somewhere out there she was really crying? Why would she be crying though? Did someone hurt her? Did someone she know had gotten hurt?

A thought suddenly came to his mind, one that hadn't occurred to him before because......well he didn't think anyone would think of him the way Orora did.

Was she crying because of him? Did she miss him just as much as he missed her?

Because he did miss her. So so much.

A strange feeling crept up his spine, prompting him to look up beside him from where he had been idly drawing in the sand. Was it his imagination, or had Mai been staring at him?

He had gotten rather tired of her insistent pursuit, and had asked her to stop. But if he knew anything about Mai it was that she was stubborn, and would only do as she saw fit.

Ignoring her, he returned his attention to the sand once more.

He froze at what he saw there.

His idle drawings hadn't been.......well idle.

He'd actually done a couple of things.

First was a strange symbol that was a blend of the sigil of the Fire Nation and the Water Tribe within a circle. It had the three circles of the Water Tribe, yet the tops of the circles had the flickering flames of the Fire Nation sigil.

And the other wasn't exactly a drawing. Rather he had written the name of his soulmate in the sand.

Zuko stared at the name, briefly brushing the tips of his fingers along the grainy sand as she did.

Hearing his sister and Ty Lee approach, he quickly swept a hand through the sand erasing any evidence of what consumed his very thoughts.

The string tied around the finger of his right hand glowed a bright blue.

————————–

Orora's eyes widened as she grinned at Katara in disbelief.

"You didn't?!" She gasped out at the smug looking waterbender.

"I did." Katara responded, as she tossed some vegetables into the pot of water that was boiling away atop the fire. "I mean yeah, the pirates came after us and all, but we managed to escape and I learned some new waterbending forms."

The older girl shook her head. "Still, that was rather gutsy, stealing from pirates." Katara shrugged. "Well it wasn't there's to keep. Of course handling the pirates would've been easy if Zuko hadn't come along and created more of a mess then it already was." She added, not really thinking of her response.

Her eyes widened, and her hand slapped over her mouth as she looked at Orora. "Spirit! Orora, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to mention him it just slipped out and...." The girl trailed off as Orora sighed before shaking her head.

"Its alright Katara. I mean, I have to get used to you guys saying his name every now and then don't I?" She gave a sad laugh as she began to add in the spices and salt into the boiling water. "I mean, he did tell me how he chased you all around trying to capture Aang, but I guess he left out a few details."

She could ignore the sudden lurch of her heart, could ignore the ache of sadness that seemed to permeate her very soul. After all, she had to move on didn't she?

"So, he told you everything?" Katara asked, curious to know what else he had told Orora. The lighthearted conversation they had been having just moments before seemed to dissipate completely. The air around them became a little heavy with....a cautious tone.

Orora nodded. "Pretty much everything. I mean during our stay in Ba Sing Se, we had a lot of free time and we just talked about everything. Mostly our childhoods though." She smiled sadly, stirring in some noodles into the bowl. "Its strange how many things we had in common. Both our father's banished us, and we were just trying to find our purpose in the world."

A sad laugh fell from her lips as she pushed back a few stray strands of her hair from her face. "Did you know he would follow me around the city whenever I would go out?" Staring out at the clear spring with a faraway look in her eyes, Orora continued. "It wasn't really safe for young girls in the Lower Ring, and he made it his duty to make sure I stayed safe. It was one of the reasons that made me see that he actually had a kind heart."

Orora held her hand out, curling her fingers inward in an elegant motion, pulling a small bubble of water towards her. "But then I already knew he had a kind heart I mean, I was a stranger to him at the North Pole, and yet he saved me." She began to play with the water ball, holding it aloft and splitting it into several smaller balls of water. "Soulmate or no, I know in my heart that even if he had not felt that tug on his finger, he still would've saved me. Because that is the sort of person he is. He would never intentionally physically harm a person. Unlike his sister and father."

The younger waterbender held a certain amount of anger and resentment towards the Fire Nation prince, not only because of the betrayal and the fact that he had chased them for so long, but also because he had broken her sister's heart.

And yet, hearing Orora speak about him like that, as if he were nothing but a confused boy, trying to find a place where he belonged, he sounded almost..........human.

"Orora?" Katara began, frowning slightly at the other girl, though not in disapproval or anger, but rather in confusion. Once she turned to look at her, the girl continued. "Did you," Her words came out slowly. "Love him?"

Ice blue eyes blinked at her.

There was a brief stretch of silence between the two waterbenders before Orora pursed her lips. "I don't know." She finally responded, not exactly the answer Katara had been expecting. She frowned. "Why don't you? I mean shouldn't you, look at how you were after what he did."

Orora stared at the girl, a little at a loss on how to explain it to her properly. Her gaze flickered towards Aang who was practicing some earthbending moves with Toph.

"Katara, after Aang was shot, and with the way you reacted, anyone would assume that you love him." A bright blush stole across Katara's cheeks, as she too turned her head to look in Aang's direction.

Peering at the suddenly shy girl, Orora asked. "So, you tell me Katara, do you love Aang?"

Katara blinked at Orora, her heart beating fast and her cheeks stained with a blush, as she tried to find an answer to Orora's question.

Finally, her shoulders deflated and she wrapped her arms around her torso and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "I.....don't know." She finally responded to which Orora gave a sad smile.

"Now you understand how I feel." She reached out to place a reassuring hand on Katara's shoulder. "But at least you have the chance to figure your feelings out, and I am going to help you because if I don't get a happy ending, by the Spirits I am going to make sure that you and Aang get one."

Katara stared at the older girl who was smiling at her. With tears in her eyes the younger waterbender pulled Orora into a warm embrace. "Woah! You alright there?" She asked, feeling the warm tears against her bare shoulder. Katara nodded against her skin.

"I'm just glad you're here." The girl admitted, prompting Orora to return the embrace just as lovingly and fiercely as it was given.

————————–

What his Uncle said had been true.

Girls being late was a universal thing.

And he had to wait for three of them to get ready to go to the stupid party they'd been invited to. Zuko hadn't wanted to go, but Ty Lee had insisted, said it would be fun to be at a normal party for once, not one of those fancy ones that the Fire Palace held every now and then.

He sat at the entrance of the Holiday Home they were staying at, staring glumly out towards the waves crashing against the beach. The sound carried over the wind, triggering memories of Orora whenever she would practice in a large body of water.

Zuko wandered if she had continued her training. Maybe she had found herself an actual waterbending Master, instead of a stand-in like his Uncle had been. Then again, his Uncle had taught her many things during the time they had traveled together. He remembered how precise yet elegant she always was when it came to her bending. Sometimes he was sure that she was dancing along with the water instead of just bending it.

She made her element an extension of herself, a trait Zuko still struggled with.

His eyes dropped to his thread which was-

"Who's Orora?"

Mai's dry voice cut through his very heart. He scrambled to his feet, turning around to face the knife-wielding girl who stood at the open doorway with a scowl on her face and a hand on her hip. "How do you know that name?" He asked, his voice hoarse as he stared at her.

His mind ran a mile a second. How could she know Orora's name? Had she been captured? Had something happened to her? Had she done something that had caught people's attentions? Worst case scenarios, one after the other, played in his mind.

"You said her name." The girl revealed. "You were calling out to someone who wasn't there. Asking why she was crying."

Spirit she had seen him that night!

"So who is Orora?" The girl asked again, narrowing her eyes at him. Zuko was frozen where he stood, trying to decide how to handle the situation.

But he had to make sure one thing before all else.

"Have you told Azula?" He asked, to which Mai's scowled only deepened. "Does it matter?" She asked in her usual flippant tone that gave away no emotion.

Fear overwhelmed him, pushing him to reach out and grasp Mai by the shoulder. "Yes!" He revealed, his voice equal parts desperate and panicked. "Please Mai, tell me, have to told Azula?"

In all her years, Mai had never seen this sort of desperation before. There was fear in his amber eyes, and the very idea of his own sister knowing some girl named Orora seemed to throw him off completely.

Finally, she shook her head in a silent response.

Instantly, his hands dropped from her shoulders to her forearms, he hung his head, his body relaxed and his breathing calmed.

"Zuko?" She called out to him, but the young prince was far away. He was reliving the nightmare he had had. The nightmare that had left him sick to the stomach and crying. "Zuko?" She said again, this time shaking his shoulders.

He finally looked up, and she could see the same haunted look in his eyes that she had seen the night when he had been calling out to Orora. Her ears pricked at the sound of Azula and Ty Lee descending the stairs.

Zuko must've heard it too, because he straightened up and stepped away from her. Whatever composure he had broken, he retained in the blink of an eye. Mai stared in amazement.

Who was this girl? One moment he had been desperately asking her if Azula knew about her, then the next he had pushed aside all he felt just so his sister wouldn't pick up on anything.

As they began to walk down the path towards the house where the party would be, Mai managed to catch Zuko's eye and gave him a look. A look that clearly said that the conversation was far from over.

But it didn't scare Zuko.

Not when the glow of his string kept him company.

————————–

His eyes narrowed, and his tongue sticking out from the side of his mouth, Sokka was able to expertly tie the string through the hook. Once satisfied that it wouldn't loosen he moved to test it further.

Only to stop when he spied Orora standing at the bank of the Spring facing him where he stood atop the rock in the middle of the water. He grinned, motioning for her to come over. With a quick flick of her arms, Orora was able to create a wave that carried her towards him, depositing her safely to his side.

Sokka nodded, impressed. "Good to see you using your bending again. You're getting stronger." He praised, to which she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Not strong enough. I'm still really tired from the bending practice I did this morning."

"Well it'll take a few days before you're at your full strength. You'll get there." He reassured her as he moved to the bag he had brought with him, taking out a long thin pole with a string and a hook. "Here! Lets see if we can catch some dinner for tonight."

So saying, they both sat opposite one another, and he began to guide her on how to properly tie the hook and what was the correct way to cast a line.

Somewhere between the two lessons, she turned to him, unable to keep the question that had been burning in her the entire day.

"I don't get it Sokka." She began, to which he frowned. "Well its not that difficult Orora, you just swing your arm and-"

She batted his arm and shook her head. "No! Not that!" A moment of silence, where she licked her lips before continuing. "You lost your soulmate. I mean Yue is gone, if we look at things..........logically." She knew how much the water tribe boy liked that word. "How were you able to cope."

Sokka was silent for a moment as he untangled a string that had snagged with another. "That's the thing Orora. I was her soulmate, but she wasn't mine."

Ice blue eyes blinked at him in disbelief.

"What?"

He turned to her with raised hands. "I'm no expert but I have a theory, so just hear me out." Once she nodded he took a deep breath.

"When we go to the North Pole, and when I saw Yue for the first time, I didn't feel my string tug or anything." He revealed. "But, I did feel this strange connection with her. And it was that connection that had me going to find her and talking to her." A sad smile pulled at his lips as he attained a faraway look in his eyes. Probably thinking about Yue, Orora mused. "It was a few days later when she revealed to me that her string had tugged when she'd met me, and grown shorter, but my string remained loose."

Orora frowned. "How is that possible?" She whispered, to which Sokka shrugged. "I'm not sure. No one has ever heard of anything like that, but maybe, no one in this world was connected to her soul because it was never hers to begin with."

He looked at her, blue meeting blue. Her eyes widened in realization. "Her soul wasn't her own because the Moon Spirit gave her life." The girl suddenly realized, a gasp leaving her lips. "Her soul belonged to the Moon Spirit."

Every Northern Water Tribe member knew of the story of the young princess and how she had been given life by the moon herself.

Sokka nodded. "Exactly. If it had been her soul, our strings would've been connected. But since her soul belonged to the moon, she could never have a soulmate. At least not from this world." He added with a shrug and a smile, but Orora could see the sadness in his eyes.

"D-does that mean you don't have a soulmate?" She asked, knowing fully well how a person had only one soulmate and no more then that. Though the sadness lingered, a smile pulled at his lips.

"It was just after Katara and I met Aang. We were at this place called Kyoshi Island and I was a complete idiot to this amazing warrior who had actually captured us." Orora nodded. She had heard bits and pieces of the story from Aang and Katara, but never Sokka's perspective of it. "I though that I wouldn't see her again, but then when we were trying to get into Ba Sing Se, I ran into her again."

The beginnings of a smile tugged at his lips, one that Orora was reciprocating as she slowly began to realize where the story was headed. "And because when we first met I had been a complete idiot to even realize it or even accept it, it was during that time at the Serpent's Pass that I realized she was my soulmate."

Orora sat there for a few moments, absorbing what Sokka had just told her. "So Yue wasn't your soulmate, but you were hers. Your soulmate is actually this other girl named......." She trailed off as Sokka straightened up, realizing he hadn't given her a name.

"Its Suki, and she's a Kyoshi Warrior." He added the last part with a proud grin, prompting Orora to laugh softly. "Oh I can see just how bad you have it for her." She said, punching his shoulder in a playful manner to which he blushed and shrugged.

"Well, she is my soulmate." He insisted. "The last time I saw her was before we got into Ba Sing Se, I don't know what happened after that because those Fire Nation girls came in disguised in their uniforms and well, you know how dangerous and ruthless those girls are."

That worried look in his eyes was back, and even Orora gnawed at her lower lip as her mind flashed to the three imposters, or more specifically, to Princess Azula.

If she could shoot with the intention t kill at her own Uncle, who knows what she was willing to do to someone who was a threat to her in some way.

Still, she reached out to take Sokka's fiddling hands in a reassuring manner and smile at him. "I'm sure she is alright Sokka. You would've felt it if she were in trouble." Deciding that perhaps what she would reveal would ease his pain, she pushed aside her own heartache for his sake.

"Zuko told me, much later, that when he saved me at the North Pole, he felt that my life was in danger before the string even tugged." Sokka looked at her a little surprised to hear her talking so freely about the boy who had broken her heart. "He felt it in his soul because we're soulmates, and I'm sure Suki is in no more danger then she was before, wherever she is."

The girl stood up, swinging her arm to cast her line into the water. "Fate, always has a way of leading us to our soulmates, and I'm sure, one day, it will lead you to yours in the most unexpected of ways." She added with a reassuring and hopeful smile at him.

Sokka grinned at her before following her lead and swinging his arm to cast his line into the water as well.

Only the hook at the end of it caught in the back of his shirt. And with the force of his entire body behind the swing of his arm, his shirt went halfway up his head and the sudden jerk had him loosing his balance atop the slightly slippery rock and down into the water below.

Orora was laughing her head off when he emerged, soaking wet and a tiny fish flopping about on his head.

————————–

The party was in full swing, and though the beginning had been rather awkward, what with them arriving so early, all of them had eventually settled in.

Well in a way.

Zuko was sitting in a corner, deep in thought. Though his face betrayed no emotion, inside fear and desperation ran amuck. The nightmare kept replaying over and over in his mind, and that urge to protect Orora, one that had been so profound during their stay in Ba Sing Se, rose to the forefront and he felt antsy. All because he couldn't do anything. Because he couldn't protect her.

Mai was sitting beside him under the pretense of keeping him company. As far as Azula knew, she was still trying to win him over. And Mai wanted to keep it that way.

With Azula busy making Ty Lee give her lessons in flirting, Mai turned her attention towards Zuko. "You have a small window to tell me everything about this girl." She spoke in a low voice lest someone should hear them. But with the chatter of more then two dozen teenagers around them, it would be impossible to know what they were talking about unless someone stood very close.

His amber eyes flicked to where Azula and Ty Lee were still busy, as if confirming for himself that his sister wouldn't hear him.

"Before I tell you, you have to swear to me that not a word of our conversation goes back to Azula." He finally said, unable to keep all that he was feeling hidden within. He knew he was taking a huge risk to reveal what he was about to to Mai, but he couldn't take it any longer.

His Uncle wouldn't speak to him, and he had no one else.

Once Mai nodded in confirmation he turned slightly so he could look at her properly. "She is my soulmate." He began, before everything came spilling out. He compressed his story as much as he could, not wanting to share any intimate details with Mai. Yes, he wanted so much to trust her, but he had no desire to share a part of his heart with anyone. It was difficult enough for him to share this much.

He was rather quick in completing his story, leaving Mai with many questions which she didn't voice, and he wasn't sure he could answer. Zuko waited for her reaction, to tell him off for being soulmates with the enemy. Even though it was not in his control, he could still have chosen to not be with her or gotten to know her.

He could still have chosen not to care about her.

But how couldn't he?

Somehow he doubted he wouldn't have cared about Orora. She just had a presence about her, one that drew a person in and reveal all their secrets and know that they wouldn't be judged or ridiculed for it.

Or maybe it was just a soulmate thing?

Either way, he had come to care for her. Very much. And even with the guilt of betrayal weighing down on him, he found that he missed her because he still cared for her.

Mai bit her lower lip, as if she were struggled to find the words to say. And he couldn't blame her. What he had revealed was certainly not an easy secret to keep.

He was prepared for anything she had to say.

"I found my soulmate too."

Except that.

He blinked at her, staring in utter disbelief. Mai groaned, burying her face in her hands briefly before sighing and lowering them. "I met him while I was out shopping with my Mother. It was just after we came back." She revealed. "I saw him, and he saw me, and I ran."

Zuko allowed her a brief moment to gather herself. "Why?" He finally asked, to which she blinked up at him. "Why? Because he is a commoner Zuko. I am the daughter from a noble family, they would never have accepted him as my soulmate."

He frowned, about to tell her off for thinking like that. But then she surprised him. "But then I ran into him again, and this time I stayed, and I spoke to him." A blush stole across her cheeks, leaving him utterly speechless because Mai never blushed.

"I've been meeting him in secret at my aunt's flower shop. She is the only person who knows about him, and she has been really encouraging. And I've actually started to..........like him." The reveal had blinking in utter surprise before a smile formed on his lips and he grinned at her.

"I'm really happy for you Mai." He revealed, his voice honest and true as he gave her a hug from the side. She gave a small smile in return. "I'll keep your secret about Orora, if you keep mine." The girl bargained to which Zuko didn't hesitate to accept.

They both knew Azula would try to sabotage her growing relationship. And if she were to know of Orora's true worth to Zuko, then Azula would stop at nothing to take away his one source of happiness.

"So, you've been seeing Orora, even after what happened in Ba Sing Se?" His mood sobered as he nodded. "I've been trying to distract her so I wouldn't but it hasn't been working really."

Mai tilted her head as she regarded him. "Well, the whole point of coming here was to figure ourselves out. To find parts of ourselves we had no idea existed." She stood, placing a hand on his shoulder as a comforting gesture.

"So why don't you go find yours. Maybe you'll find the answer to your questions too." With one last smile, she walked away towards the food table, leaving Zuko to stare after her, looking a little astonished at her words. Though after a few moments, his lips thinned in a determined line.

Five minutes later he was walking along a familiar path, the noises from the party dimmed before slowly dying as he walked further and further away.

His only companion, was the blue of his thread.

————————–

"I've got a bone to pick with you Ice Princess."

Orora looked up from where she had been playing with Momo to see Toph standing over her with her arms crossed. "And what did I do to offend the greatest earthbender in the world?" She asked in a playful tone that matched Toph's. The blind girl grinned in response before speaking.

"You made ice sculptures of everyone but yourself. I mean, I have a general idea of what you look like, but I want to be sure." The girl continued. "I mean what if I have to describe you to someone and all I have is that you're tall."

The older girl laughed as Momo climbed up to sit on her shoulder, chittering to get some head rubs, which Orora happily gave. "I'm not that tall Toph, I'm about Sokka's height." She corrected, to which Toph waved a hand. "That's tall enough, and you still haven't answered my question."

Orora grinned. "You didn't ask one." Toph merely crossed her arms over her chest. She sighed before setting Momo down from her shoulder. "I'm too tired to make a sculpture." She revealed, reaching forward to take Toph's hands. "So, how about you just feel for my face?" So saying, she placed the younger girl's hands on her face and waited patiently for her to start her observation.

There was a long stretch of silence, in which she stared into Toph's unseeing eyes as the younger girl traced along the features of her face, seemingly committing it all to memory. "If it helps, I have a white patch of hair on my head where the Moon Spirit touched me." She offered, to which Toph snorted.

"If I need to find you, I'll just ask people to point me towards the girl with an attitude." Orora frowned, though her lips remained pulled upwards in a smile. "I have an attitude?" She asked to which Toph nodded. "Oh yeah, its the way you stand sometimes. Like you're so sure of yourself."

Toph had dropped her shoulders a while ago, so now the girls just sat opposite one another talking. "Me? Sure of myself?" She echoed, sounding incredulous. Toph smirked. "Do you make it a habit of repeating what people have just said.

Orora rolled her eyes at the girl before adding a quick answer in the negative. "You can't be further from the truth. I mean half the time I don't even know what I'm doing." The younger girl nodded. "Yeah, but still you know what you want and you go for it. I really admire that about you." Toph revealed, which had Orora blinking in stunned silence.

Finally, the girl cleared her throat. "Yeah, well sometimes what I want isn't whats best for me. And deciding to stay with Zuko and Master, didn't turn out so great did it?"

Toph shrugged. "Maybe it wasn't, but you did what felt right and who knows, it might just turn out to be the right thing in the end." Orora smiled softly at the young girl, reaching out to take her hand and run her fingers along her lips so that she could actually feel her smile.

"I'm sorry about what I said about you not being able to find your soulmate." The older girl suddenly blurted out, the guilt of what she had said the night before finally spilling out of her. Toph was silent for a brief moment before she shrugged.

"Its alright Orora. I mean, I've always known I wouldn't be able to find my soulmate because I won't be able to see my string glow. I mean I would feel it tug but I wouldn't be able to know where they are since I can't see where the other end of the string ends." Toph explained, as Orora sighed.

"Still, maybe I can find a way to help you out. Have you ever felt your string tug?" The girl continued, curious to know if perhaps Toph had felt anything.

The long stretch of silence that followed confirmed what Orora had wanted to know.

"You have!" She cheered out, as Toph attempted to shush her. "Keep your voice down. I don't want anyone to know." She revealed. Though it was difficult, Orora was able to keep her voice down, but remained just as excited.

"Where did you feel the tug?" She asked, to which Toph sighed, knowing the older girl would pester her until she revealed everything. "On the boat after we escaped Ba Sing Se. I don't know when it started, or who it could be, but I know I felt it tug there."

Orora nodded. "Well we'll be meeting up with them soon, and when we do, I am going to find out who he is." She clapped her hands, giggling. "Oh, this is so exciting." Toph made a disgusted face, though she was pleased at the prospect of Orora helping her.

"Maybe I should start calling you Sugar Queen like I do Katara." She teased, to which Orora gasped in horror. "What?! No! I like Ice Princess."

"Then why don't you act like one?"

"What be detached and emotionless?"

"Why're you getting so poetic?"

"Well I like poetry so........."

"Ha! Forget Ice Princess, I'm gonna start calling you Lady Fancyfingers instead."

"Don't you dare!"

"What're you gonna do? Splash me with some water?"

SPLASH!

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

"Oh it is ON Ice Princess!"

————————–

He left because he didn't feel like attending the party anymore.

He certainly didn't leave because he was bitter about seeing all the couples milling about, talking, laughing, embracing, dancing.....kissing.

Those acts only reminded him of the time he had shared with Orora, and though he had relived all those moments several times since his return to the Fire Nation, his recent nightmare, and the fact that she had been crying in the most recent vision he had seen of her, made him feel guilty to even think of those memories again.

He had no right think about her, not when he had betrayed her.

Had done her wrong.

Yes, even he admitted what he had done was wrong, and yet, he had done it for the right reasons.

Hadn't he?

Though what those reasons were, even he didn't remember.

He walked along the beach, the presence of the open water beyond acting as something of a comfort for him as he slowly neared the place he had no intention of going to, and yet, he couldn't help but be drawn towards it.

Suddenly he stopped, looking up at the house that greeted him.

The Summer House where the entire family had spent happy times together.

He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he did.

Zuko knew she was beside him before he even opened his eyes. His gaze turned to the sea, the wind blowing his hair about, as he slowly began to recall all the happy times he had spent here.

"We used to come here every Summer before Lu Ten died. I remember playing in the grass just behind us with my father, when he was something of a father to me." He revealed to Orora who remained silent.

He moved on, the vision of his soulmate following alongside him soundlessly like a ghost. Zuko reached the path that led towards the main doors of the house. He paused, head shifting to the side towards the beach that lay just beyond. "Uncle, Lu Ten and I used to make sandcastles over there everyday before the sun set. The waves always destroyed our castles, but he said it was a good thing. So that we could come back the next day and rebuild them all over again."

Gathering buckets of water and bringing it to his cousin who always took charge. Zuko was always happy to help him however he could. Just just wanted to play with his cousin because he was just so cool. That had been younger Zuko's thought process.

Present Zuko closed his eyes against the painful memories, the ghostly presence of his soulmate, as well as the constant blue hue of his string providing him with the comfort he so sorely needed.

————————–

"Long day huh?"

Orora opened her eyes from where she'd been slightly dozing off while waiting for Katara to finish with dinner. She looked at Aang with a slow and sleepy nod. "You could say that." Stretching her arms above her head, the girl yawned.

"I feel like a weight has been lifted from my chest." The girl added as Aang sat down beside her. He smiled. "I'm glad to see you going about your day, we were really getting worried about you." He revealed, to which she gave a nod, the guilt evident in her blue eyes.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean for my grief to get so bad, but I just couldn't help it." She revealed, to which Aang shook his head. 'It wasn't your fault Orora, you needed to grieve, trust me, it's never good to let all that remain inside you and never let out."

She nodded in response. "Still, how could I let it go so far. I mean, I didn't think my feelings for Zuko went that deep." Aang's grey eyes flitted to where Katara was finishing up with dinner. "Feelings have a way of taking roots in our heart without us knowing." He said, his voice serious. "And once they take root, no matter what you do, they grow."

Orora nodded in understanding. "They stay there don't they? Forever." Aang sighed before nodding. "They might wither." He explained further. "But they stay in our hearts for the rest of our lives."

The two of them sat there side by side, lost in their own thoughts. With Aang thinking about his soulmate, and Orora thinking about her own.

"You told me, how you had to reject your bond with Katara to gain the Avatar State." A frown creased his forehead, but he didn't stop her, so she continued. "Were you almost about to reject it then? Before you ran off because Katara was in danger."

She watched as the young boy seemed to curl in on himself, appearing even younger then his thirteen year old self. "I was." He finally revealed.

"Did it hurt?"

"It....it felt.....it felt like someone......was reaching inside my chest and........ripping out my heart." He finally finished, unable to find the correct words to make her understand the feeling he had felt in that moment.

A shiver traveled through her body, a cold that came from within settling about her as she bit her lower lip and looked away.

"Are you thinking of doing that with your bond?" He finally asked, turning his gaze towards the older girl who frowned.

"I'm.......I'm not sure." She finally revealed.

The two sat together in silence until Katara called out that dinner was ready. Aang stood to help her but he paused.

Looking back at Orora, he gave an understanding smile. "I know what you're going through isn't easy Orora, but trust me, rejecting a bond no matter what the other person has done, if ten times worse then what you've been feeling lately." He paused before continuing.

"And from most cases I have seen and heard about, both parties often die after the bond is rejected. Especially if they've started to fall in love with their Soulmate."

She looked up at him, mouth agape and eyes wide.

Aang simply smiled sadly.

"Just think with your heart and soul rather then your mind before you make that decision."

He walked away, leaving Orora to sit there and think over what he had just said.

————————–

He approached the doors to the house, pulling and pushing in an attempt to open them up. He frowned when they didn't budge.

Without even a moment of hesitation, he kicked his leg out and the door swung open. He had no idea where the strength came from. Maybe the lock was just old and rusty?

Still, he paused briefly at the threshold before walking in. Dust covered every surface, and the air was thick with moisture since the place had been shut for so many years. He continued inside, pausing once he had a good view of the family portrait that hung in the middle of the wall.

"This was just before Lu Ten died." He explained to Orora. "It was our last vacation as a family, and mother insisted that we sit for a portrait. Azula and I hated every second of it, we wanted to go down to the beach and play." It felt strange, talking about his sister as if she weren't the person she was today. Zuko remembered when she had been a rather normal little girl.

That is, until, their father had decided that Azula was the one to be favored, and not Zuko.

He had hated his sister after that. For stealing away his father's love and attention.

His gaze flickered from his father to his mother. "She's beautiful." The soft voice of his soulmate prompted him to look at her. She had followed his line of sight and was looking at Ursa. Zuko nodded. "Yeah." He agreed, still looking at her.

Maybe his mother being beautiful wasn't the only thing he was agreeing to right then.

Breaking himself out of his thoughts, his amber eyes found a flat stone laying on the shelf that ran along the wall. He picked it up. It was an imprint of his own hand, when he'd been a baby.

Though he knew it was ridiculous, he laid his own hand atop it.

So much had changed since he had last been here. He wasn't the same person anymore, he realized with a jolt of his heart.

Orora's presence had gone from beside him.

And yet the vibrant blue of his string comforted him as he stood there alone.

————————–

The sound of Toph's voice, urgent and grave was what roused her from her sleep.

"Guys, you're all gonna think I'm crazy." She said, sitting up. "But it feels like a metal man is coming."

Orora blinked away the sleep in her eyes, her brain trying to process what she was saying. But then a glimmer of light had her looking for the source and her eyes widened, all sleep forgotten.

High above their safe haven stood a giant of a man. He was staring down at all of them, though, and maybe it was just her suspicion, he seemed to focus on Aang and.......her.

The hairs at the back of her neck rose, and her body tensed in anticipation of what was to come next.

Suddenly the whole world seemed to explode as the man shot fire at them.

Not from his hands or his feet.

But his head.

Aang was the one who moved quickly, attempting to block the attach using a block of earth to shield them. But the wall exploded, sending them all flying back. Orora grunted as her rolling body finally came to a stop. Despite the ache she felt, she shot to her feet, already drawing from the spring and creating two large ice spears that she kept levitating with her waterbending abilities.

Toph had managed to stay upright and earthbended a rock towards the giant, who shot another wave of fire, dissipating the rock, and aiming straight at them. Once more Aang was able to shield them using his airbending this time. But he was knocked back by the force of the blast.

Katara stepped forward, sending a large wave towards their would be killer, though it had little to no effect as the man shot another wave of fire causing the wave to explore. Not wanting to give him time to gather strength, Orora swung her arms forward, allowing her ice spears to cut through the air and towards the giant.

He was able to dodge the first one, while the second he simply destroyed with yet another wave of fire hitting a rocky outcrop destroying it on impact.

This time, dust exploded everywhere, and for a moment her vision was clouded as she tried to see what was happening. She heard Appa roar in the background, and the earth rumbled as Toph created a protective barrier around them in case the man tried to attack again.

————————–

"I thought I'd find you here."

The sound of his sister prompted Zuko to look up from what he held in his hands. Still lost in the haze of the memories he had just relived, he spoke the first words that came to mind.

"Those summers we spent here seem so long ago." His gaze flickered to the house that still echoed with the sounds of happier times. "So much has changed."

Azula, with no sentimental bone in her body, simply sighed and rolled her eyes. "Come down to the beach with me." She urged, already walked away with barely a glance at the house. "Come on. This place is depressing." She walked off, with Zuko following after her, leaving behind the stone that had his hand print.

Once they reached the beach, he realized that Mai and Ty Lee were already there. His eyes met Mai's briefly, and the two gave one another a nod of acknowledgment.

"I'm freezing." Ty Lee shivered, wrapping her arms around herself as she did.

An idea forming in his mind, Zuko smiled. "I'll make a fire." His gaze shifted to the summer house they had just come from. "There's plenty of stuff to burn in there."

And though he had just walked down to the beach, Zuko began the trek back up, intent on gathering whatever happy memories he had once lived there and burning them for the lies they had been.

Fortunately, the blue of his string stayed with him along the way.

————————–

Another explosion echoed in the night as they all crouched behind the wall Toph had created.

"This is crazy!" Sokka exclaimed. "How can we beat a guy who blows things up with his mind?" They had each tried to bring him down using their bending but to no avail. Orora, still not quite recovered from her past three weeks was beginning to feel the effects of using her bending for so long that day. She still wasn't strong enough.

Aang suddenly stood up, a determined gleam in his eyes. "We can't!" he declared before looking to his friends. "Jump on Appa! I'll try to distract him!" With that he shot off.

"I hope he has a plan." Toph said nervously as they all ran towards Appa. Sokka was the one to help her up onto the saddle where she collapsed, her vision blurring slightly before clearing.

Whatever Aang had planned, it worked, and as they passed by, he jumped into the saddle. The moment he was in, Katara moved forward to hold on to him. Her arms clasped his, and Orora could see that his grip was just as tight in response.

As if they were trying to reassure each other that they were alive.

"I'm okay." He said as Momo jumped onto his shoulder. Orora looked back to where the dust still hadn't cleared where Aang had left the strange man.

"Well, that was random." Toph exclaimed.

Katara shook her head as she sat up to look back just as Orora was doing. "I don't think so." She spoke gravely. "I get the feeling he knows who we are."

The older girl bit her lower lip. "And I get the feeling that he was sent to take us out permanently, not just capture us."

A grave silence followed her words, and since no one disagreed with her, she knew her assumption was correct.

And she gulped in fear.

————————–

The wooden frame was dropped into the already burning fire, flickering immediately eating away at the portrait of the family that had been painted there so many years ago.

"What are you doing?" Ty Lee called out, sounding surprised at what Zuko had just done.

Zuko turned to raise an eyebrow at the girl. "What does it look like I'm doing?" He demanded to which Ty Lee glanced back at the fire. "But, it's a painting of your family." She said, her voice soft to which Zuko scoffed.

"You think I care?" He very nearly growled at her in anger. Ty Lee wasn't really taken aback by his anger. She was used to him anger. "I think you do." She responded to which Zuko simply rolled his eyes and began to walk away.

"You don't know me." He snapped over her shoulder. "So why don't you just mind your own business?" Ty Lee frowned where she sat, her lips in an angry pout. "I know you." She grumbled.

"No, you don't." Zuko insisted. "You're stuck in your little 'Ty Lee world' where everything's great all the time." Mai sighed from where she sat beside Ty Lee. "Zuko," She said in a chastising tone. "Leave her alone."

Angry at Ty Lee for claiming to know that she knew him, and maybe wanting to avert the attention away from himself, Zuko stepped forward. "I'm so pretty." He said, imitating Ty Lee in an exaggerated girly voice. "Look at me. I can walk on my hands. Whoo!"

He did a handstand to prove his point, but he fell on his back. Ty Lee glared at him when he uttered the final two words. "Circus freak." Ty Lee began to speak, but Zuko tuned her out, instead closing his eyes and focusing on the wind as it blew through his hair.

He zoned out as Ty Lee continued to speak, barely paying attention to what was being said, instead he tried to calm his raging emotions and thoughts by focusing on the sound of the waves breaking on the beach. It was comfort that he sorely needed, something he wasn't getting from anyone. So his solution was to think of things that reminded him of Orora, and being this close to the beach was as close as he could get.

He did manage to catch a few words on Mai's part, who, for once, was actually expressing herself. How she had to behave herself all the time and have every aspect of her life controlled by her mother.

"You guys have had it easy, try living a life where people are watching your every move every moment of the day." She finally finished, slumping back where she sat as if all that she had said took everything out of her.

Zuko sat up from where he was still on the ground. "My life hasn't been that easy either." He rebutted her statement. It wasn't that he wanted to upstage Mai, it just angered him how people took so many things for granted when he had none of it.

Mai scoffed. "Whatever. That doesn't excuse the way you've been acting." She said, referring to his tendency to stay by himself and barely speak with anyone. Ty Lee raised a placating hand. "Calm down, you guys. This much negative energy is bad for your skin. You'll totally break out." She added as a word of caution. Azula couldn't help but smirk at Ty Lee's choice of word as she glanced at her brother.

"Bad skin?" The young prince spat out. "Normal teenagers worry about bad skin. I don't have that luxury." He leaned forward with a bitter smile on his lips. "My father decided to teach me a permanent lesson on my face!" He finished with a finger pointed towards the ugly scar that marred his face.

Ty Lee winced where she sat, while Mai gave Zuko a sympathetic. Azula simply sat there, the shadows form the fire hiding the half smile on her face as she watched her brother breakdown. "Sorry, Zuko, I....." But he didn't even let Ty Lee finish her apology as he turned his back on all of them, staring out at the open waters.

"For so long I thought that if my dad accepted me, I'd be happy." His voice was bitter and cold. He had gotten what he had wanted. "I'm back home now, my dad talks to me. Ha! He even thinks I'm a hero." It just all felt so wrong, being at the Fire Palace, being a Prince again, living in all that luxury. "Everything should be perfect, right? I should be happy now, but I'm not." Lifting his head, he was greeted with the vision of Orora standing in front of him, a sad smile on her lips as she reached out to brush his hair away from his face, just as she had done so many many times.

Unable to cope with the fact that Orora wasn't really there to comfort him, he finally turned back to the others. "I'm angrier than ever and I don't know why!"

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Orora move to stand in front of him. Her figure was silhouetted by the fire. He could still see Azula on one side, and Mai and Ty Lee on the other, but all he could focus on was her.

Azula shrugged. "There's a simple question you need to answer, then. Who are you angry at?"

"No one." He responded, trying hard not to look at Orora as she stood in front of him. "I'm just angry."

"Yeah," Mai joined in. "Who are you angry at, Zuko?" She insisted.

His amber gaze darted briefly towards Orora's blue eyes before he looked away. "Everyone." He said in a frustrated voice. "I don't know."

"Is it Dad?" His sister asked, to which he shook his head.

"No, no." Sadness crept into his tone as he thought of his Father, the man he didn't feel a single ounce of affection for. A fact that was so wrong since a son was supposed to love their father.

"Your uncle?" Ty Lee spoke almost the same time as Azula did. "Me?"

Zuko shook his head, growing even more frustrated by the second. He could feel his inner fire raging, and knew he would loose all composure soon. "No, no, n-no, no!"

She was standing in front of him and yet her lips did not move. Her voice though echoed in his mind, soft and gentle like a caress. "Me?"

Zuko shook his head again, as he responded to her the same way she had asked her question. "No!" He shouted in his head. "Not you." He wish he could reach out and stroke her cheek, to prove to her that she wasn't the reason behind his anger and frustration.

"Never you."

Never her. He could never connect anything negative with her. To him, she was perfect.

So perfect in fact that knew the moment he looked into Orora's eyes he would know the answer to his own question.

She continued to stand in front of him, staring silently while the other three girls behind her began to talk, one above the other, until all three voices melded into one.

"Then who? Who are you angry at?"

"Answer the question, Zuko."

"Talk to us."

"Come on, answer the question."

"Come on, answer it."

He tried his best to not look her in the eye, to keep from breaking. But then a slight movement on her part had him gazing upon her lovely face.

She had raised a hand to press against his cheek. And though he knew it was not there, he could still feel the phantom of her touch. A touch that he ached for every single day.

And that made him even angrier.

"I'm angry at myself!" He finally yelled out, slamming down his clenched fists at his side, sending a pillar of fire towards the sky with the force of all he felt behind it. While the other three girls recoiled from the flames, Orora simply nodded at him, smiling in a reassuring manner.

Was it the wind that caressed his scar, or was it her hand?

Either way, she had disappeared, and he turned his back on the girls once more.

Azula was the first one to speak. "Why?"

His eyes trained towards the moon he spoke in a low regretful tone. "Because I'm confused." He admitted. "Because I'm not sure I know the difference between right and wrong anymore."

His Uncle did. And so did Orora. They had both known the difference and had tried to help him understand it. Maybe the reason he was so conflicted and angry about his current situation was because he knew the difference between right and wrong.

He just chose not to see it.

And that only made him feel even more confused and angry.

Behind him, his sister sneered. "You're pathetic." She turned her head away, nose in the air. Mai shot a glare at her friend, before standing up and walking to his side.

"Look I know things haven't been the best between us." She said in a low voice so that Azula wouldn't overhear them. "But if you need someone to just talk to I'm here."

Zuko turned his head slightly to give Mai a small smile which she reciprocated.

Maybe....just maybe....he had managed to find one true friend here.

Someone he could trust and who trusted him in return.

The rest of the conversation went as well as it could be expected, with Azula claiming herself to be nothing short of perfect despite what their mother had thought of her.

Zuko had felt a pang of hurt for his sister, but then he remembered all the times their mother had tried to help Azula but had failed because their father would always be there to enable her.

And that feeling died.

The only good part of the entire trip?

And no, not the part where they went back and absolutely annihilated Chan's parents Summer House.

His string had glowed a continuous blue throughout his stay on Ember Island.

Affirming his suspicions that what he felt for Orora went beyond the past the stage of simply caring for her as a friend.

No.

It was growing beyond that.

————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos @violet-potter @rennysketch @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10 @lucaaahhh @juniper-july19 @anuttellaa @gfksz @bussyvussy @punksnotdeadbutiam @ablofftoneverland-blog-blog @slut-for-menn @vyliie @army-moa75 @juwhls @aqlodun @lovelybaka

#zuko imagine #zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko x oc #prince zuko x oc #atla zuko #fire lord zuko #zuko #the gaang #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender fanfiction #avatar: the last airbender #avatar aang #avatar #netflix avatar #The thread of fate

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ranticore · 2 months ago

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answering all my asks in a big bunch

@help-system

it's kind of cool to think about actually & something i didn't consider (re: the implications for future generations). the reason he has to stay in a town flock isn't just because he's formed attachments there, but because he is vision-impaired and his feathers are fucked from lack of structural pigment and would struggle to live without the support system (for lack of a better term) of the town around him. his survival depends on living in a society. that also means he'll survive to pass on this trait when otherwise he would not. it's recessive so yeah could definitely be passed on!

@focshi

Oh habitat & life habits change the look of the nests completely. for the ama plains eagle harpies I was imagining a kind of gourd-shaped woven bower.. sortaaa like this as the eastern edge of the plains (where they live) has emergent columnar basalt and it's on these big stone stacks where they make their nests. use rope and picks to secure the bowers to the columns and the king's eyrie (the tallest one naturally) is built around a log tied upright with guy-ropes driven into the stone. they are all flexible enough that they blow around a lot in the wind without suffering much damage (see pic below)

in between them are net-like rope platforms and ladders as well as more 'spires' which are the trees propped upright on the columns. solid stone is the only safe 'ground' material to build nests on.

@gardenergulfie many of the monsters were bound by additional magical rules on top of the "you are twisted into a monstrous form" main thing. i hadn't thought of many tbh but i believe sphinxes were more strictly bound by their riddle names rather than just doing it playfully by choice, i know there was more but it escapes me. i'll have to think of some!

wyrms are cursed with immortality in a very classical sense so it would be impossible for Revelation not to be around in Cuinn's time. but ah... i wouldn't say it's in a good state

wildfire unfortunately is no longer with us. in mind & spirit anyway.

For eagle harpies, baby-rearing is not communal. The parents swap brooding/hunting roles (one broods/warms the young, the other hunts, they barely get time to sleep). Once baby is old enough to fly it hops out and joins the other fledglings in their eyrie. Parents rarely have anything to do with them after that but they will occasionally stop by to deliver discipline if they feel their offspring isn't behaving properly.

Partnerships are monogamous (but if the king wants your girl then that's his girl for the night) and last as long as any relationships might; could be many years, could barely last a season. there's a stigma against breaking up while tending a nest so some harpies with relationship problems tough it out for the sake of the kids (this never works)

The king does not care about his offspring as people, only as tokens of his virility and strength. Kings often boast of how many offspring they have (and the All-King can have hundreds) but do they know all (or even any of) their kids' names? of course not

Regular cobs do most of the fathering because most flocks don't have a king and they have to reproduce somehow. There's no visible difference between the offspring of a king vs the offspring of a cob. eggs is eggs

Eagle harpy pens can lay up to 4 eggs in one nesting season. Sibling aggression is common in the early days and if unsupervised they can kill one another but that's seen as a sign of lazy and inattentive parenting UNLESS the baby being picked on was kinda runty and then it's their own fault for being a whimp and they should toughen up. Parents can lay unfertilised eggs but rarely do, it's similar to a false pregnancy. Unfertilised eggs are eaten. Harpies of different species base cannot interbreed, but bear in mind that harpy species diversity is overall much lower than birds.

Eagle harpies are VERY protective of their eggs. It's not unheard of for other harpies of the same eyrie to steal their neighbours' eggs for various reasons (you can gain favour if you have one of the king's offspring in your nest....). many predators also might want to take some as well (sphinxes are... very ferocious predators of harpies, but also you gotta watch out for that little human who might have ambitions of being a falconer). parents will guard their eggs viciously.

I don't think it's unreasonable to imagine such a scam tbh... yeah sure take this egg it'll tooootally hatch into a big strong harpy. human falconers probably candle their eggs frequently to monitor them so i think they would catch on very quickly though hehe

#ice storm over kosa #harpy time

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kimyoonmiauthor · 5 months ago

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The whole Haitian Grill Hoaxes.

Warning: Talks about Haitian history of slavery briefly and of cooking animals.

Not my usual line of posts, but meh, I kinda want to so some solidarity, education and attempt at least to weave in some talk of anthropology and worldbuilding with it.

First off, Anthropologists are required to take as undergraduates Physical Anthropology. We have to be able to tell the difference between a carnivore, an herbivore and a omnivore. And also are taught things like how to tell the difference between human bones and animal bones. No lie, this was one of the most difficult classes I took and I spent for probably the first time in a long time studying my ass off. I usually don't study, but for this one I studied really hard. 'cause you have to memorize the names of bones and how they differ. (Cue me crying because I still remember frontal parietal and occipital and semi-have nightmares about this class. I still have mandible, but then semi panic about the names of all of the nose bones.)

This isn't what I thought I'd be using my degree for, but here we are.

Next, I 100% do not condone and 100% condemn everyone being AHs to Haitians who've had enough crap in their history, such as, but not limited to Columbus depopulating the Island of Taino (It's a word that starts with G), enslaving a bunch of Africans, and then people getting upset when they overthrew their slave owners. This is designed as a defense against the racist who accuse them of eating an animal rarely eaten in human history especially WITHOUT ANY FLAVOR. WTF. Only people who are from the Europe do that. Did you really get insulted by Tim Walz making fun of the white American Palate and then confirm he was correct? Yes, you did.

I'm pulling out my love of food anthro for this too. lol Did I almost write a book about it? Yes, yes I did. Also, I have graphic design knowledge to be able to tell things.

***

This is the image. Those are chickens, whole, not free of their internal organs.

Might be 3-4 chickens, but this is my best guess:

That's the anatomy break down.

Basically, the tail is not a rabbit tail. The tail is also not a cat tail. It matches a bird tail.

The legs are not rabbit legs—they are too long and there is a claw. There is a wing in the picture. Cats don't have the anatomy. They have longer tails and it wouldn't look that way.

For reference, the Sphinx Cat. (which is really expensive, BTW. They've been catnapped before.)

The red in the picture is glare from a window because the person is standing and as the video goes, if you focus on the glare you can see it is a white person taking the video—or at least very light skinned wearing a red t-shirt and dark pants. Might even be a Trump T-shirt, but I couldn't confirm it on repeated viewings. This means the window is pretty big. It's not a car. The way the person shifts within the video means they are likely in their own house. There is a level of comfort there. This was also likely taken with a phone because the resolution is terrible. The way the camera shifts as the person shifts their position, etc and the bad camerawork, suggests amateur with a phone. (Also didn't expect to use my graphic design knowledge for this)

Dude, just go outside your house to film.

The second reason this isn't from a car like some people suggest is there is a fence that goes along the back of the property where the beveling of the fence suggests it's to protect the current yard. This means the fence likely goes the entire perimeter of the yard which would mean it's not visible from the street. The majority of grills are set up to face the house, not the street, unless you're planning on selling it.

Sphinx is an all furless cat. This looks nothing like what is in the picture. Those are birds.

It was pointed out to me that it might be stewing chickens, i.e. after they've been retired from egg laying. The kind you make into something like Dak Komtang. This means the picture was 100% faked.

Now, why is it a badly faked image: Cultural Anthropology and food anthropology here.

In order to cook any animal in a BBQ setting, every culture I know of where you are physically using a grill: You would have to chop it up so it cooks evenly and if you don't do that, put it on a spit to cook it whole. It *is* possible to cook a whole chicken, however, one would have to have taken out the giblets, and then dressed and marinated it thoroughly so that the breasts are correctly tied, plus you would have to tie it up so that the wings are tied to the body: https://bluejeanchef.com/cooking-school/how-to-truss-a-chicken/

Truss it tight. This helps the chicken to cook evenly. Similarly with rabbit you'd have to empty the main cavity of the innards.

No one leaves the chicken feet on in that case. It's better to take off that part of the legs and do something else with them, like say Chinese Chicken feet for dim sum.

Nunzio pointed out that the chickens were likely stewing chickens, i.e. retired breeders.

based off of this picture. i.e. terrible for grilling on the barbecue because it's much tougher meat.

In addition, while there are cultures that do eat chicken heads, often to make the chicken cook more evenly, they are cut off of the body and grilled/cooked separately because the rate at which the head cooks is faster than the rest of the body. In the picture you can see the chicken combs.

The next point of clue that this is a faked image is that there is NO FUCKING FLAVOR ON THE CHICKEN.

youtube

White food travel shows, Haitians themselves when making their food, my own mouth is going to tell you, that is is packed to the gills with flavor. OMG, some of the food is so spicy, even this Asian feels like they were crying. C'mon now, that's a crime to say that Haiti people are going to cook anything on the grill with no flavor.

You know the only cuisine in the world that gets close to doing that? Europeans and people of that direct descent. And I've eaten my way through South America, Central America, North America, Texas BBQ, Louisiana, NE America, South West America, Italy, France, England, Germany, Poland, Russian, Hungarian, Iranian, Armenian, Tunisia, Nigeria, Ethiopian, Greek, Chinese (Northern and Southern, BTW), Japan, Korea, most of SE Asia, Philippines, and some of the South Pacific (Working on it). There is only one continent that does not flavor their meat before putting it on the grill—effing Europe. WTF.

The rest of the world is begging you to at least marinate your meat. !@#$ Even effing Texans are begging you to marinate your meat.

Anyway, no self respecting home chef or any type of cook would cook their meat this way.

Food experience

I've eaten and cooked whole rabbit, whole chicken, whole turkey, whole goose, venison (legally hunted and shot), beef, lamb, goat (not whole), and !@#$ there is no way someone is cooking it that way without any heat on the grill first. In order to grill anything, you need a lot of prep time to make it work, even for smoking. You need to heat up the grill.

Let me tell you as a kid when I first arrived to the US, my mom would serve up crap meals which consisted of mediocre rice, fish sticks, and carrot and celery sticks. God, I hated the cooking. And she kept saying how she would not ever put in more effort into our meals. Having some semblance of foundation about cooking, I watched cooking shows, read cook books, and managed to get the foundations of cooking from asking and doing.

This meant by the time I was a teenager I was making the majority of the meals for the house. In fact, my parents made me do the majority of the cooking some nights AND clean the dishes I cooked with sometimes because they were seriously assholes.

They also would have me heat the briquettes for the grill ALONE. --;; Unsupervised. Yeah, not recommended, and I would never ask kids to do it on their own. Don't do as my parents did.

On the list of things they had me cook was things like venison and goose. When I flunked out of college the first time due to lingering trauma, they also had me do all of the cooking for rent and made unreasonable demands on me.

Fuck. Go back to your fucking fish sticks.

The point is that I know the foundations of cooking meat very, very well. I got so good at it, I could sense the difference in smell to know when it was cooked versus not cooked.

I made up recipes too.

Anyway, there is NO way you would be cooking meat like that with the head still stuck on. For the cultures like Ireland that eats things like brains, the head is ALWAYS cooked separately from the body. The brain is squishy in there and can make the skull explode in some cases because it cooks at a different rate from the rest of the body. The same with the internal organs. Those are removed in every culture or taken out, rinsed and carefully placed back into the cavity of the animal to cook *with additional* things added (sometimes rocks, sometimes extra meats, etc.) Again, if you don't do that, the inside will explode. (And in some cases make things really bitter like gall bladder tastes nasty. You can see people eating the gall bladder on Youtube.)

This is why this is a faked picture.

In addition, the cultures that do eat things like cats are usually ravaged by imperialism, therefore, poverty. And I know how much imperializing nations like to make fun of other cultures they imperialized to the point of crippling their food supply and their inability to get new technology like refrigerators.

This is why I think it's best to not ridicule other culture's foods.

And don't believe hoaxes like this. Including the whole This is a dog without canine teeth video hoax. It's simply not worth it.

And I'd also beg you to fact check, fact check before you perpetuate rumors. But I suppose this is a lesson in racism and xenophobia too.

#Imperialists like to feel high and mighty about choking other country's food supply chains #and then get indignant when those people want to kick them out of the country for being AHs and kill them #But you are enslaving and r*ping them. What do you expect?#Very few people in the world eat cats or rats usually it's a tourist show or because the people are desperately poor.#racism #Haiti #Youtube

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aaknopf · 10 months ago

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Anne Michaels is a poet and novelist of passion and history—history that inevitably encompasses violence and loss, but also the possibility of beauty and connection in their midst. In her new novel Held, set during World War One and across the century to follow, the descriptions crystallize line by line with the immediacy and sharp physical awareness of her fine lyric poems. We supply the opening here—the novel’s first stanza.

River Escaut, Cambrai, France, 1917

We know life is finite. Why should we believe death lasts forever?

The shadow of a bird moved across the hill; he could not see the bird.

Certain thoughts comforted him: Desire permeates everything; nothing human can be cleansed of it. We can only think about the unknown in terms of the known. The speed of light cannot reference time. The past exists as a present moment. Perhaps the most important things we know cannot be proven. He did not believe that the mystery at the heart of things was amorphous or vague or a discrepancy, but a place in us for something absolutely precise. He did not believe in filling that space with religion or science, but in leaving it intact; like silence, or speechlessness, or duration. Perhaps death was Lagrangian, perhaps it could be defined by the principle of stationary action. Asymptotic. Mist smouldered like cremation fires in the rain.

It was possible that the blast had taken his hearing. There were no trees to identify the wind, no wind, he thought, at all. Was it raining? John could see the air glistening, but he couldn’t feel it on his face.

The mist erased all it touched.

Through the curtain of his breath he saw a flash, a shout of light.

It was very cold. Somewhere out there were his precious boots, his feet. He should get up and look for them. When had he eaten last? He was not hungry.

Memory seeping.

The snow fell, night and day, into the night again. Silent streets; impossible to drive. They decided they would walk to each other across the city and meet in the middle. The sky, even at ten o’clock at night, was porcelain, a pale solid from which the snow detached and fell. The cold was cleansing, a benediction. They would each leave at the same time and keep to their route, they would keep walking until they found each other.

In the distance, in the heavy snowfall, John saw fragments of her—elliptic, stroboscopic—Helena’s dark hat, her gloves. It was hard yet to tell how far away she was. He shook the snow from his hat so she might see him too. Yes, she lifted her arms above her head to wave. Only her hat and gloves and the powdery yellow blur of the streetlamps were visible against the whiteness of sky and earth. He could barely feel his feet or his fingers, but the rest of him was warm, almost hot, from walking. He pulsed with the sight of her, the vestige of her. She was everything that mattered to him. He felt inviolable trust. They were close now but could not make their way any faster. Somewhere between the library and the bank, they gripped each other as if they were the only two humans left in the world.

More on this book and author:

Learn more about Held by Anne Michaels.

Browse other fiction and poetry collections by Anne Michaels here.

Click here to view a note from Anne Michaels about the questions at the heart of Held.

Visit our Tumblr to peruse poems, audio recordings, and broadsides in the Knopf poem-a-day series.

To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link.

#MichaelsAudio #poetry #knopf #poem-a-day #knopf poetry #national poetry month #poetry month #knopfpoetry #poem #held #Anne Michaels

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scuddle-bubble101 · 2 months ago

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Lets go random again! Someone else for fun fact time?

(So the wheel seems to like Eli- This is twice now. So Eli fact times I guess X'D I got so, so distracted X'DD!)

Facts about Eli!

. Raised primarily by an academic branch he doesn't quite even remember, Eli doesn't recall even having parents or "people" in his life once. Considered pretty much a failure from the start, he never held on or expected much from older people. Matter of fact, he really wasn't raised much either, it's actually a mystery how he seems "fine" despite it. Some of his childhood consisted of quite the confusion too, he always received gifts and baked goods on his birthday.

. He's jumpy at best, naturally his main trait if we had to explain him with one. Constantly feels like he's being watched and can't reason with it. Worst bet is that he's probably right. To be straight to the point, he's never had "luck" on his side, always drawing some kind of bad with the good. "The glass is always going to be at least somewhat empty even if you try to fill it full."

. Unfortunately, he sticks out like a sore thumb, looking damn near like someone poured spots for a cheetah and cheese sauce on his ears. Doesn't help either that he's gifted in fire magic, he can't for the life of him explain how he got it, he just "does." His temper can flare too, it'll make his fire and items rather red and can leave his eye-sight rather fuzzy. (he hates with this happens)

. Being trained by Pj (Exclusive's son) by all things. Jams of course, didn't want any chance to teach him but realizing the kid really lacked a social figure, he kind a caved. (Don't tell him we said that) Naturally, this made him protective over Eli, making sure to shield him and keep him out of trouble if he can help it. Eli's never really had a positive adult figure in his life so all he can comment on it, is that it is a bit weird to have a guy just... Make sure you've eaten enough today. Stars, He's even met his boss's wife. What he's being trained for is really important though!! Classic knew it was best to leave him with Jams-jams. (And honestly, he's right.)

. He's a little accident prone. NOT thankfully, like a certain cheeto-haired boy :]! Ok, at least he doesn't have two left feet like A CERTAIN BIRD EITHER. He doesn't claim they are friends but Crash will find any excuse to purposely dive bomb him. (Poor Eli)

. Did you see something beside him? Looks like it becomes "visible sometimes"... No, you didn't see anything, trick of the light you see?

. His ears a pull-able, yes he will whine like a puppy if you do so.

. He has light up sketchers. They are opposite colors and if he's feeling silly, he'll tap them together to get them to glow. (A lad can have his little fun times ok?)

. He does not actually like peanut butter. We'll say it might be a texture issue.

#eli #hyena lad #A BOY!!!#the mainverse #writing askie times!#this was drafted for a moment- I am sorry- we got so busy X'D

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majjiktricks · 1 year ago

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im gonna end up playing that again because i wanna look for more details. things i did see but cant post because the audio is ATROCIOUS. heres what i can remember tho:

if you go into the basement level before you're suppose to, the peace walker theme will be playing over some kind of loudspeaker (instead of the radio like it does when you can pick it up later). the room is pitch dark and completely empty aside from some shelves and gurneys. i'd have to turn the brightness up but i wouldnt be surprised if it was a storage room for medicines and/or some kind of morgue.

theres an entire wing of the quarantine building you cant explore because there are carts and shelves overturned in front of the doors. apparently the people who end up in the basement room were hiding there, and then left once the parasites made them run. im not sure why they went to the basement when the parasites want outside, but props to them for locking themselves in. you have to pick the door to get in.

despite being listed in the credits, ocelot never talks to you over the radio. you only hear kaz, code talker, and eventually huey. ocelot only appears in the casket burning cutscene, and only for a moment with no dialogue.

i cant remember if its present in the english, but in the japanese dub, the people infected with vocal cord parasites have a strange, warbly filter over their voices that makes its sounds like their vocal cords are loose and moving too much when they speak.

all the staff who are infected have visibly clouded over eyes, except for the last one who you carry to the door. when you first look at him, his eyes are dark. they are still dark even after confirming he is also infected. this is likely because it would have been too small of a detail to make a model change for mid-mission, or for a watsonian explanation, perhaps the eyes are one of the last symptoms to present.

there are a handful of different staff reactions to you appearing and then pointing your gun at them. a lot of them are relieved to see you. some are confused and say "wait!" or plead with you when you raise your gun. some of them just look at you and accept it. a few even say thank you as their last line when you shoot them. one staff member laying on the floor will see you shoot another and then pull a gun on you. one refuses to die via parasites and shoots himself. the security team member you find protecting two other staff is the same one you will find at the end behind everyone in the basement.

you cannot use cqc during this mission except for while in the rooftop room. you cannot prevent staff from injuring each other or themselves with stuns or punches.

code talker over the radio will theorize about how the parasites mutated and how they behave. he posits that it may have something to do with the recent radiation leak on the quarantine platform.

he also has a theory about why the disease is progressing so quickly this time and has no visible symptoms: the parasites are reproducing asexually and laying eggs without vocal stimulation, simply overwhelming and destroying the host. the strategy to spread is no longer through bodily fluids, but through animals. the parasites want to get outside so birds will eat the bodies and uncontrollably spread the parasites that way.

the comparison to the snail is apt because multiple parasites alter snail behavior to make them more susceptible to being eaten by birds, who are the parasites' final host. it then releases eggs with the birds' droppings, which can end up in water to infect more snails and bird-prey.

venom snake puts on a set of goggles he took off a guy who died right in front of him, who was COVERED in blood. im amazed he wasnt infected that way.

thats all i can remember right now, will have to go through again and try to get all the radio clips and any details i might have missed 👍

#jazz noises #jazz plays mgsv the phantom pain #metal gear #venom snake

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bethanythebogwitch · 1 year ago

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Wet Beast Wednesday: alligator snapping turtle

This will be a shorter WBW than usual, as I forgot to prep a post in advance and am writing this on short notice. Today's topic is the alligator snapping turtle, a beast from the bayou almost looks like a dinosaur. Macrochelys temminckii is the only member of its genus and, along with the three members of the genus Chelydra, is one of the four living snapping turtle species. Some scientists suggest splitting it into three species, but this is still a matter of debate. Snapping turtles are large, predatory turtles known for their very sharp beaks, extreme bite forces, and alleged aggressiveness.

(Image ID: an alligator snapping turtle sitting on gravel. It is a large, brown turtle. Its shall has three spiked ridged running down it. The head is large and angular, with a very sharp beak. It has small, brown eyes. Its mouth is open in a threat display. End ID)

The alligator snapping turtle is one of the largest freshwater turtles in the world, surpassed only by a few species of rare Asian softshells. The alligator snapping turtle can be distinguished from the common snapping turtle, whose range overlaps with that of the alligator snapping turtle, by the three spiky ridges going down its shell. These ridges, along with its powerful jaws, are often compared to those of an alligator, hence the common name. The turtles grow through their entire lives and can reach truly huge sizes. In the wild, adult males (who are larger than females) range between 35 and 80.8 cm (13.8 to 31.8 in) in caprapace (top shell) length and weigh between 8.4 and 80 kg (19 to 176 lbs). Sometimes, a true giant will be found, usually an old male. Reported weights of giant males include 113, 107, and 135 kg (249, 236, 298 lbs). The tail is longer and thicker than in most turtles. The head is large and thick and can deliver bites with a force averaging 159 newtons. This is less than the bite force of the common snapping turtle, but still enough to bite someone's finger off. The inside of the mouth is brownish and the tongue has an appendage that looks like a worm on it. Unlike most turtles, the alligator snapping turtle cannot withdraw into its shell. The plastron (lower shell) covers less of the body than in most species and cannot cover retracted limbs, heads, or tails.

(Image ID: a close-up of the head of an alligator snapping turtle with its mouth open. The tongue is visible, which has a pink, fleshy appendage that looks like a worm. End ID)

Alligator snapping turtles live in the southeast USA in rovers, streams, and lakes, preferably with deep water. They spend most of their lives in the water, only leaving if in search of a new home or when laying eggs. They are nocturnal, but may still hunt during the day. The turtles are passive ambush predators who sit perfectly still with their mouths open and tongues exposed. The worm-like appendage on the tongue is used to attract prey, which the turtle will bite down on quickly and with extreme force. This is a form of aggressive mimicry. You may be wondering what they eat and the answer is just about anything. Fish, amphibians, and snails appear to be the most common prey, but they will also feed on crayfish, insects, snakes, worms, birds, small mammals, other turtles, and even small alligators. Basically if it can fit in the turtle's mouth, it will be eaten. While not active predators, they will dig up burrows in search of food. They also feed on carrion and will sometimes eat aquatic plants. A turtle can go 50 minutes between breaths and they sit still so much that most individuals will have a thick layer of algae growing on their shells. The algae helps them camouflage as rocks when not moving. Fishermen tales often say that alligator snapping turtles can depopulate all of the fish in a body of water, but this does not appear to be true. Adult alligator snapping turtles have no natural predators while juveniles are eaten by fish, birds, raccoons, and other snapping turtles.

(Image ID: an alligator snapping turtle underwater in an aquarium. Picture from the Smithsonian's National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute. End ID)

Mating takes place in spring, earlier in the season in more southern climates. Laying takes place around two months later. The females will leave the water and travel around 50 meters inland. The distance is to prevent the eggs from being flooded, which would kill them. She will build a nest in sandy soil and bury the eggs. No further care is provided. Clutches consist of between 8 and 60 eggs at a time. After 100-140 days, the eggs hatch. The hatchlings are fully independent and must make their own way in life. The sex of the hatchlings is determined by the temperature of the soil they are incubated in. Soil of 29-30 degrees C (84.2 to 86 F) results in primarily females, 25 to 27 C (77 to 80.6 F), results in primarily males, and anything in between results in a mix. Individuals become sexually mature after about 11-12 years. The maximum lifespan of wild turtles is unknown, but individuals in captivity can live over a century.

(Image ID: two baby alligator snapping turtles held in a person's hand. They are smaller than the person's palm, but otherwise look no different than the adults. One is on its back, displaying the small plastron. End ID)

(Image ID: alligator snapping turtles hatching in captivity. The eggs are small white spheres that look like ping-pong balls. The number 19 has been written on them in what appears to be sharpie. Several of the eggs have already hatched. In the middle of the picture, a turtle is pertially emerged from its egg. End ID

Alligator snapping turtles are classified as vulnerable by the IUCN. Their primary threat is habitat loss as wetlands are drained and dammed. They are also hunted and used as food by humans. This is common enough that some states have had to pass laws protecting the turtles. Despite being characterized as aggressive, alligator snapping turtles rarely attack humans and only in self-defense. Because they cannot retract into their shells, the turtles defend themselves by facing a potential threat with their mouths open as a warning. This has furthered its reputation as an aggressive animal. Because the turtles take so long to reproduce, restoring populations is a very slow process. Alligator snapping turtles are sometimes used as pets, though they need expert care due to their sheer size and the potential danger of handling them. Use in the pet trade has resulted in the turtles being introduced outside of their native range. They have become an invasive species on some places, notably in southern Africa.

(Image ID: an alligator snapping turtle next to a human man. The human is holding it up by the front of the shell to show its size. End ID)

#wet beast wednesday #alligator snapping turtle #snapping turtle #turtle #freshwater biology #biology #ecology #zoology #reptile #animal facts

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saintsofwarding · 1 year ago

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BURIAL

Chapter 7

The key was still clenched in her hand. She lifted it to the light to get a better look. Its head was decorated with a geometric pattern to match the elevator, its teeth well-used. She clenched her fingers around it, the slight pain of it digging into her palm helping center her, bring her back to herself, slow down the racket of her heart.

What the hell was that?

Something was in the house. But- it couldn't be what she'd seen. It couldn't be her mother.

My mother's ghost, following me?

But why would she be here, and how? If any part of her mother's corpse still existed, it would be somewhere in Castle Dimitrescu. And the doll, Angie...it was like the monster was another game to play, like she'd thought it was funny.

Like she was controlling it, and it was Elena's role in the game to figure out how to get away. Or maybe it was her role to get eaten.

Her head swam. She sank back against the wall as the elevator trundled further downward, brick walls transitioning, after a time, to dull stone. The air cooled, and by the time the contraption shuddered to a halt, Elena could see her breath in it.

The doors went ding, and opened. Beyond was a small, comfortable atrium with padded chairs and the same polished wood decorating scheme as the rooms aboveground. Not at all the torture dungeon Elena had fancied was waiting down here.

But there was something...shabby about it, too, something a little cracked along the corners. The green leather of the chairs was dull and creased. The cabinets were filmed with dust. Everywhere: cobwebs, and a faint dampness to the atmosphere, manifesting in thin trails of black mold visible in the seams of the walls.

She wasn't about to go back up. So instead Elena made herself exit the elevator and stumble out, shaking, into the basement of House Beneviento.

"H-hello?" she called. Her voice echoed away and away. "Lady Beneviento? It's here, it's...it's in your house, I think it's the doll, I know you don't believe me but I saw her, she was moving..."

She crumpled. Her legs didn't feel like they'd support her weight if she walked much longer. She caught herself up against a chair and levered herself against a wall, crawling toward the hallway. She passed a cabinet with an old telephone- she picked up the receiver but all she heard from the other end was a dial tone- and tried the first door she came across.

Locked. The hallway led off into darkness. Another door on the other side of the hall swam into view.

"Lady Beneviento?" Elena croaked.

She tried the handle. It turned, letting her through and into a warm, dim room. She collapsed back against the door; it slammed shut, and she breathed, hard, nausea clawing at her throat, pulse shocking in her eyes.

At last, she felt like she could face the world again. She let her eyes open and adjust to the gloom.

She was wrong about the desk above- that wasn't Lady Beneviento's study. This was her study. The dark wood walls gleamed in the faint light from the banker's lamp on the desk, illuminating the gilt spines of countless books shelved along the walls, and stacked on desks, and on the floor, and on the myriad chairs in the room, as if their owner had run out of space for them and carelessly stacked them wherever there was room.

Dolls, too, a few of them scattered in corners or sitting on the stacks of books, blank-eyed and slumped. The same as the ones grouped around the big grave, Elena noted, with identical black hair and prim dresses, lace-collared and ruffled.

The glow of brass and copper, glass sconces and writing instruments faced Elena everywhere she looked, and everywhere, too, were strange, curious objects in cases. Beetles pinned on velvet, their shells a shocking iridescent green, a color Elena had never seen before on a living creature. Taxidermy birds perched on branches, so lifelike she half-expected them to flutter into the air. Shells with pearly throats, spiraled like goat horns, so delicate they looked as if they'd been molded from porcelain. Bizarre saintly figurines carved from milky crystal stood together, wolf-headed, collared in red cord and sinew. Even part of a skull grinned from the gloom, a mass of crystal shards growing like a tumor from its braincase, its canine teeth pointed as an animal's. There were antique books, and a gold locket on its own little pillow, and a fossilized fern framed in silver, the delicate frond preserved forever in the silver-gray rock.

And on the central desk, most curious of all, rested a mechanism. It looked to Elena like a truck engine in miniature, but far smaller, and delicately-made from copper, glass, and polished wood. Twin wheels were embedded in its back, and a strange telescope-like lens extended from its front, pointed to a sheet hanging from a hook on the far wall.

Elena's curiosity overtook her nerves. She crept forward and examined it, brow furrowed, looking for any clue as to its purpose.

She touched the lens, brushing her fingertips along the casing. A switch extended from its side. She pushed it down.

With a chunk and a soft whir, the wheels along the device's top began to spin, and a beam of light shot from its front lens, painting a circle on the sheet. Elena flinched back with a gasp as shadows began to play over the sheet, in the circle of light, but nothing was casting them- ghosts, she thought, but, no, these weren't ghosts, they were gray people, scratchy and moving in unnatural jerks and starts, their mouths fluttering as if in silent speech. Elena stared as two of them- a man in a suit, a woman in a long, glittering dress- clasped hands and began to dance, whirling through the circle as if trapped within the light.

Were they inside the machine? Inside the beam? Elena didn't know. Slowly, she sank into the desk chair, enraptured, watching them dance, then part, then kiss, their bodies dissolving into a view of a lake. But this one was massive, not like the village reservoir but rather a plane of waves going on and on forever, a great empty nothingness of water.

Elena's nerves prickled. Was this- no, that's blasphemy, she told herself, but Miranda was not there, and her mind trembled and grew at the possibility that this was outside the village, that she had found a magical window that peered through the impossible, over the borders, over the mountains that had protected her people since time immemorial, and into the great heretic unknown beyond.

She watched in silent wonder. For how long, she didn't know. Slowly, she became aware she was no longer alone.

The bittersweet scent stung her nose. With a gasp, she looked up.

Lady Beneviento stood in the shadows, hands clasped before her, as if she'd always been there.

"My lady," Elena gasped. "I'm so-"

"Please don't apologize." Her hands fluttered as if in agitation, like two pale spiders. "I heard you shouting. I thought you might be hurt."

"No, I'm not hurt, I'm- I'm scared, I- it's up there. The thing I was talking about. It's...some kind of monster, I-"

"You're wrong."

"W...what?"

"You're wrong." Lady Beneviento stepped closer. "You said I don't believe you. I do. But...I'm scared, too."

Elena stared. "Are you also hiding down here?"

She nodded.

"That thing, that monster- it looks like...like someone I knew."

"Does it? That's what you see?" A tilt of the head. She glimpsed, again, the glint of what might have been an eye beneath the veil. "Interesting."

"If you're scared, can't you stop it? Make it go away? You're a Lord, aren't you?" Elena snapped. "One of the Black God's chosen?"

Beneviento flinched a little. "No," she whispered. "I can't. I'm not strong enough."

Elena fell silent, her brow furrowed. She faced front again, watching the gray figures, the fantastic landscapes, all trapped within the circle of light.

"Is this real?" she asked at last.

"This...?"

Elena pointed at the light. "Is this sorcery? Your power? Is this what you can do? Make windows into another world?"

"No, this is a projector," Beneviento said, as if speaking to a child. She gave a soft laugh. "It's not magic, it's light. You see?"

She touched the spinning wheels. A fine translucent ribbon stretched between them. "This is film. There are pictures on it. Thousands of pictures. Each is a moment in time...a memory. The light shines through them and it makes them come alive. And you can see the past, the memories, like they're happening again."

"This makes the past come alive?" Elena watched the memories with a renewed fascination. "Like...a photograph?"

"Like many photographs."

"Can you make dead people come back on this? Can I see...someone I knew?"

"Only if I have the film. And if one was never made...then they're lost." A soft exhale, a lift of the head. Her profile became outlined by the thin black silk, for a moment, and Elena glimpsed the contours of what must have been fine features, a high-bridged nose, the trace of lips. Just for a moment.

She looked away, just as quickly.

"Lost," Beneviento said again. Her hand rested on the projector, thumb rubbing small circles on the polished brass.

"You said you weren't strong enough."

She looked up.

"To face that thing." Elena pointed toward the ceiling. "Whatever it is. But you saved me from the great Lord Heisenberg himself. Come on, it can't be any scarier than he is."

"Then why don't you face it, if it's so easy?"

A challenge? Beneviento's voice was playful. Elena blinked. Fine, then. "Because I don't have powers, that's why."

"Oh, but you do. You forget." Her voice turned faintly sarcastic. "That's very powerful, to be able to forget."

"What? Forget what?"

"Your friend who you lost. In the garden, you said they were no one. You lied."

Elena leaned back in the chair. She closed her eyes for a long moment. "Got me," she muttered. "I...it's. The monster...I see my mother."

Lady Beneviento said nothing.

"She died," Elena went on. "It wasn't a friend I meant. It was her. When I was eight, she was called into service and went to the castle, to work. She never came back."

The circle of light burned into her eyes, but she didn't want to look away in case her mother was there in it.

"A place of blood and death, that's what everyone calls Castle Dimitrescu," Elena said. "I always thought it would be different, for her. Because she was my mother, and because that couldn't happen, not to me. But it did, like it did for everyone. And...I dream about her. Sometimes. What she must have looked like, at the end. What must have been done to her."

Silence fell. They watched the film play itself out. The figures, dancing soundless, trapped in time. Elena flinched as cold brushed her hand. She looked down to find Lady Beneviento's fingertips against hers. Her skin was callused, no warmth in it.

Elena looked up at her.

"Was she nice?" Beneviento murmured.

"Yes."

"My mother wasn't nice. But she loved me. Loved...us."

"Us?" Elena thought of the drawings in the tower room, the two girls alongside their parents. The little chant Beneviento had done in the garden, patting the flowers down. And once for obedient girls. One pat each.

"A sister?" Elena asked, quietly.

Lady Beneviento slid her hand away. But she wasn't angry, or offended; Elena knew that brittle way of walking, that clenched-down rage and suffering. She went to the far side of the room, in the dark, and curled into a chair, her shoulders hunched in, her hands gripping her upper arms.

"Lady Beneviento," Elena said, getting up. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." She went to her side and hesitated.

I fear you may fall victim to her traps, Mother Miranda said. Don't trust her. Don't trust what you see, Mother Miranda said.

But Elena couldn't help it. She saw what she saw, saw it like blood gushing from a wound, saw it like she saw herself in the spotted sliver of mirror, almost twenty years older but still that child crying in the night, smothering her tears because she didn't want to face it, didn't want to face that much pain.

And she couldn't walk away from it. Not when she could stop it. Not when she might make a difference.

Elena touched Lady Beneviento's shoulder, gripping it tight. It felt as sharp as a bird-bone beneath the black silk taffeta. Beneviento didn't pull away.

"Donna," she said.

"Excuse me?"

Her head turned. Elena sensed a smile. "Donna," she said. "Please call me Donna."

"Okay," Elena said. "Donna."

She let her go and pulled back. The film had come to its end. With a whirring clatter, the picture seemed torn away, the circle of light clean again. Donna reached out and switched off the machine. The whir died, and silence filled the study.

Elena heard nothing from above- no moans or screams.

"Is it gone?" Donna asked.

Elena shook her head. "Not yet." She thought she was beginning to understand- if not the whole, then the fringes of the whole, the edge of that circle of light. It shines through the pictures. It makes them live again. Whatever power was in this house, whatever monster lurked here, controlled or manipulated by that horrible doll, it was a burrowing kind. It got inside and shone outward.

"That nasty doll, Angie, she's up there too," Elena added.

"Nasty? Nasty? No! Angie's my friend, she's a part of me!" Donna was at once distressed, hands fluttering again. "No, she's not bad, she's...she's a little angel, that's what Papa said, that's what he told me when he gave her to me. She's a little angel and she'll always be there to protect me and we never, never will be apart."

"Okay, all right," Elena said, as much to get her to calm down as anything. "She...she's not helping the situation, then, how's that? She was moving around, you know."

"Yes. All my dolls move. But her most of all."

"No way."

"Yes."

Much to think about. Elena reached out and clasped Donna's hands to stop them from quivering. After a few moments, even her cold skin began to feel warm.

"I'll go back up," she told her. "I'll make it go away."

"No-"

"Yes." Elena gave her hands a squeeze. "Then you can come upstairs." She smiled. "I'm here for you, remember?"

***

She clenched the brass key tight in her fist as she watched Donna standing beyond the grille, watched as the rectangle of light slid downward, watched as it was subsumed by the darkness of the elevator shaft. Soon she was trapped in a stone box again, trapped in that inexorable climb back toward the house.

Back toward the dead thing waiting for her.

Breathe. She did. The air began to taste of blood. Just breathe. Just light through pictures. She closed her eyes, and once she opened them again, the elevator had ground to a halt, and the hallway stretched beyond. Bloody and slick. Contracting like a diseased organ.

She pushed the grate open.

It was there, at the far end of the hallway. A stretched, melting figure, sloughing endless bloody slime. It almost looked like a woman, now, almost like her mother, as if it had learned.

"My...sweet...girl..." Its voice wheezed toward her. "I...I came back...at last..."

"No, you didn't," Elena murmured. "You never came back. You died."

She stepped into the corridor. Splack. Another step. Splack. Its wheezing, strangled breaths grew louder, and so did the smell of blood, so thick it choked her. A slaughterhouse. A draining-pit. Its arms lifted as she approached, its hair parting from a face beginning to detach from the skull beneath, skin and muscle and connective tissue loosening once the blood was gone and the rot set in. Its jaw dropped, mouth gaping wide, teeth red as pomegranate seeds.

"My...girl," it moaned. "Elena..."

"Hey, mom," she whispered.

Its hands closed around her face. Cold and slimy and rancid. Its words tightened to a mewl as it drew her in, as its rubbery lips dragged over her cheek, as it gathered her to its chest, and Elena was rigid, every nerve in her body screaming- but she had to do this. She had to face it.

Its flesh parted, its cut throat widening, and in a ripple of loose bloodless skin it pulled her in and consumed her whole.

"Love...you..."

Darkness.

She drifted in it. Her eyes were shut, her hair whipped around her head in a phantom wind. Don't look. Don't look. But she forced her eyes open, and her feet touched ground. The slick flagstones of a cellar.

A flicker of pollen danced in the gloom. By its glow, Elena made out the iron bars around her, the cell doors hanging open. Chains swung, silent, and somewhere ahead came the steady dring of liquid.

She paced ahead. Splack. Splack. Her slippers were soaked through. The trail of blood on the floor led on, and on, through the darkness of the dungeon place. The pollen followed her, dancing round her.

She began to see it, taking shape in the dark.

A mass, hanging from one of the great meat hooks bolted to the rock ceiling. It swung back and forth like the chains, trailing hair barely brushing the floor, white hands curling and uncurling with each swing.

The body might have been her own, they looked so alike. It was so pale it was tinged with blue, lips bruised dark, nails ragged, as if she'd spent her last hours scratching at the wall like she might dig her way out. Her throat had been cut with a single deep, clean slash. Elena saw the glint of white trachea within, something that might have been bone.

A mercy killing.

The blood flowed from her, thick and dark, dried stiff as old leather. Nearby on a chair was strewn a ruined white slip, a pair of shoes, placed neatly together.

Their surroundings faded. Soon it was nothing but the dark, Elena and her mother's corpse lit by the golden glow of pollen. She'd been chained, Elena saw, round the ankles, fastened with a heavy padlock.

She lifted the bronze key. It fit in the lock. Like it had been made for it.

The padlock clicked open. She caught her mother's body before it fell; the weight of the corpse brought them both to the ground. Elena's arms trembled; she knelt, her breath coming in short, quick gasps, her eyes hot.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She scrubbed at her eyes. "You should have been a warning."

But she wasn't like her mother, was she? She was faithless, down at the core. She didn't look at the warding-saints with fear and respect. She looked at them with longing. The glimpse of the sea, in that circle of light. A nothingness unbroken. A horizon, without mountains, without forests, without anything at all.

If she was truly devoted to the Black God, truly its loyal servant, she would never question, would never yearn.

Would never have comforted Lady Donna Beneviento, whom Miranda had told her to fear.

But she wasn't afraid. Not of her. Just of herself. Because Miranda would find out. She always did. And when she did, more than Elena would pay the price.

She held her mother's body, and the darkness closed in, cool and soft as well-worn black silk.

***

Elena woke in a patch of hazy sunlight.

She lay on the floor in the main hall of House Beneviento. Someone had placed a blanket over her, tucking her carefully in. Her mouth tasted bitter; when she touched it her fingertips came away slick and black. She lifted her head with a soft groan. The view through the windows was bright, morning sun reflecting off snow.

The smell of tea and breakfast filled the air when she maneuvered herself, with effort, onto her knees. The blanket slid off her. Her joints creaked, her muscles winched tight enough to snap. But there was something else, too- music, played on a gramophone, a bright fiddle song echoing from the direction of the kitchen.

Something hard and metallic was in her hand. She lifted it: a brass key. There was no blood on it anymore. No blood anywhere; she remembered the way it had squished in her slippers, but they were clean.

She was clean. She felt cleaner than she had in years.

Elena smiled, a little. She unhooked the string from her nightgown bodice and added the brass key, where it dangled alongside its silver companion, winking in the light.

She climbed to her feet and limped into the kitchen. Donna sat at the table, teacup in her hands, Angie alongside her. Donna looked up as Elena approached.

"Is that your power?" Elena asked.

"What?"

"Making things...appear. Memories. Like the projector. Is that what you do?"

She fiddled with the cup handle. "Memories," she echoed. "Sometimes."

"Can't you control it? It's all you, isn't it? Making me see things, making me think it's all real?"

Her knuckles were white. "I...I don't..."

"But what else could it-" She stopped in realization. The bittersweet taste, the pollen winking in the air. It had been in her vision, too, her dream inside the monster, at the core of her fears.

"The flowers," she said. "The yellow flowers. They cause the visions, don't they."

"You lay down in a field of flowers and sleep on and on forever," Donna said, sing-song, as if quoting something. "Poor Dorothy and all her friends."

"Can't you make it stop?"

"Me? Alone? No." A rustle of her veil like a shaky exhale. "Can't you help me?"

"I- yes. I'll sure as hell try."

"Thank you, Elena."

Elena nodded.

"What did you see?" she asked, after a long pause. "The monster, I mean. You were scared of it just as much as I was. So what did you see it as?"

"It's gone?"

Elena clenched her teeth. Talking to Donna Beneviento felt a little like wandering through an endless labyrinth- more dead ends than answers. But her voice trembled with so much hope she couldn't help but reassure her.

"Yes, it's gone," she told her.

"You did it?"

Elena nodded. "I did it. It's over."

Donna's hands tightened on the teacup. "No," she whispered, and set down the cup to pour Elena her own. "It's never over."

And maybe she was right, but Elena still sat down with her, and they drank their tea and listened to the music companionably together as the morning sun brightened into day.

Eventually Donna rose from the table. Her fingers brushed Elena's shoulder.

"Elena," she murmured.

"Yes?"

"The basement is dangerous," she told her. "Please don't go down there again."

#resident evil village #re8 #re8 fanfiction #re8 fic #donna beneviento #elena lupu #karl heisenberg #mother miranda #angie beneviento #claudia beneviento #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil #donna beneviento x elena lupu #donna beneviento x oc #re8 oc #chapter 7

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