#Upstream Image

[downthetubes]

Upstream Image exhibition at Gallery North examines environmental impact of digital creativity

Upstream Image, explores the journey a digital image must go through before reaching our screen – and the environmental impact this has

A series of contemporary art exhibitions exploring cultures, communities and environments has launched at Northumbria University’s newly refurbished Gallery North. The first, Upstream Image, explores the journey a digital image must go through before reaching our screen – and the environmental impact this has. Gallery North is an experimental space featuring exhibitions, talks, seminars,…

[ursaspecter]

X-Men Evolution isn't perfect, but there's a part that really sticks with me and I think about it a normal amount.

In the beginning of the series the existance of mutants is still pretty secret. The kids are still seen as fairly normal if just a bit weird because they live at the Xavier school/Brotherhood boarding house, but otherwise have friends who aren't mutants and no one assumes anything of them.

Hank's mutation though isn't like the others. He can't just wear special glasses like Scott or use an image inducer like Kurt or simply choose to not present his mutation like Evan can. He has to regularly take a serum he's invented to keep looking normal. Until it doesn't work anymore, that is.

At the end of the episode, he's lost his teaching job at Bayview High School and instead teaches at the Xavier school now as Beast. It's a hard adjustment to not being able to really go out and interface with the public anymore, but they make do.

In a later episode, Kitty suggests that Hank lead a field trip out in the redwoods so he can get out of the mansion without risking being seen. While the kids are at camp, he goes for a walk on his own and finds a sockeye salmon slapping around in a shallow part of the stream. He sighs and says, "You can't go back either." and helps the fish along.

But the thing is, the salmon is red with a green face meaning it's already gone through changes before spawning and dying. It has mutated and can't go back.

I don't know if the writers intended that. Maybe they just wrote the line to mean "The salmon is trying to swim upstream but got stuck and can't go back to where it spawned now" and just used the red and green color palette to make it stand out as a salmon because when it's still silvery it just looks like any other fish to kids. But I'm choosing to believe the deeper meaning is there. Hank McCoy is salmoncore.

[fuckyeahfluiddynamics]

Fish Ladders Keep Species Swimming

Dams often use fish ladders to help migratory species make their way upstream without interruption. In this video, Grady from Practical Engineering discusses some of the considerations that go into this special infrastructure and what kinds of designs work for different species.  (Video and image credit: Practical Engineering) Read the full article

[modark]

The Bardic Tradition

I made a long thread explaining in detail all the symbolism in this piece when I first posted it. That's lost to time now, thanks Elon. I'll try to rewrite it to the best of my ability in an abridged form.

The basic gist is that its a visual representation of the ancient Gaelic bardic tradition. Seated in the center is St. Colmcille, composing an old Irish hymn to St. Brigid, "Brigit bé bithmaith". He is holding hazel nuts, symbols of knowledge / inspiration in Irish legend. On the two pillars on either side of him are King David (left) and Orpheus (right), two famous poets from antiquity. Two legendary poets from Irish legend, Oisín and Amergin, are situated above each pillar respectively. The two fish are seen swimming "upstream" (as in the legend of the Salmon of Knowledge) toward a sheela na gig, a architectural feature / grotesque of early Irish churches which some consider to be symbols of femininity, meant to ward off evil. At the top of the image, hands from a cloud (representing God) release a white dove (representing the Holy Spirit) down to St. Brigid. She owes her angelic appearance to her being considered both a pagan goddess and Christian saint. She is guarding a flame, which symbolises poetic inspiration, and which can be seen floating above the heads of all the other figures.

[13as07]

Stretch Marks

(Asuma Sarutobi Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to BEHINDXA]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 4,647

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Smoking

Name Calling: Baby Doll, Daddy, Good Girl, Selfish

Soft Dom

Spanking

Body Image/Weight Issues (more or less)

Titty Play

Breeding/Creampie

Fingering (Female Receiving)

Mirror Sex

———————————————————————

My husband's hand paws at my lower stomach, his fingertips kneading at the flesh. My side is tucked into his elbow dent, his arm wrapped all around me so I'm enveloped by Asuma's whole being.

     Since we showed up at Kurenai's baby shower, he's been attached to me like crazy. I don't think I've gone longer than five minutes without Asuma touching me. Anytime he's not touching me, his eyes are locked on me with so much admiration shining in them. Every time he's spoken to me since we've gotten here has been littered with compliments or sweet nothings about why or what he loves about me.

"Baby doll?" He coos, lowering his head so his mouth is pressed against my ear. "I adore your little pouch."

"You're weird," I chuckle, heat crawling up my neck when he presses on it. If Asuma is anything, he's a man of pride, which in the bedroom translates to him pressing on my lower stomach to 'feel himself in me'.

"How is loving a specific spot of you weird?" He mutters, peppering a light kiss to my ear. "This is where our children will grow," he adds, pressing on my womb pouch again.

Another kiss and press are stamped into me before Asuma gently pushes me to the side, settling me in front of himself. His hands fall to my hips, pulling me backward before his hands slide over to continue to press on my womb. "What's your obsession with my stomach today?" I ask, leaning my head backward so I can look up at him.

"It's nothing," he mutters, glancing around with a small tint of pink mixing with his olive skin. "We should go outside for a smoke." Before I can answer, I'm being dragged toward the back door.

Asuma's nephew - Konohamaru - catches sight of us, quickly weaving through the people in the house to catch onto our heels. "Are you guys leaving already?" He asks, grabbing hold of my elbow so the both of us can be dragged out by his uncle.

     "No," Asuma answers shortly, some of the excitement from before deflating from his voice.

     "Oh, just a smoke break then," Our nephew mutters, glancing around the room, probably searching for his Grandfather. "Can I sit outside with your guys?"

     "If I tell you no, are you going to come anyway?" Asuma grumbles, letting me go long enough to pop the door open and hold it for me.

     "Yes," Konoh giggles, sliding out the door with me. I roll my eyes at my two boys, settling on the porch steps as I wait for my husband to join us. My nephew sits next to me, making sure he's upstream of the soft breeze outside. "My dad is stopping home tomorrow," the young boy mumbles, bouncing his knees as he looks around the yard.

"That's just great," Asuma grumbles, smacking his pack against his palm as he slowly sinks to the stairs. It's not a secret my husband and brother-in-law have a strained relationship, starting in adolescence over computation for their father's time or attention and now stretching to their disagreements over Konoh.

More specifically, fighting about neither of our nephew's parents being in the picture leaving him pretty much orphaned since Lord Third died. Konohamaru spends more time with us in a month than he's spent with his parents in all thirteen years of his life. It's saddening, but he's a happy kid and that's all that matters.

Asuma lights the cigarette between his lips, taking a hit of it before handing the stick to me. I take it from him, taking a puff as he lights a cigarette for himself. "Are you excited to see your Dad?" He asks, leaning around me to look at Konoh.

"Kind of, but not really," he mutters, bumping his knee against mine; I bump his knee back. "I want him to meet Hanabi while he's around though."

"The girl you've been hanging out with?" I ask, making my eyebrows jump as I softly tease Konoh about his growing crush.

"Ya," he whispers, a soft smile playing on his lips as his cheeks heat up. "Could you maybe help me get dressed up tomorrow for dinner with Dad and her?"

"Sure, Sweets," I answer, my chest boosting with joy from the simple request. I know my nephew has a mother, a role I'll never be able to fill for him despite her distance, but I'm always happy to fill in and be a good figure in his life.

Asuma's hand jumps to the side after I answer, roughly gripping my thigh as he inhales deeply. I watch the smoke cloud slowly slither out from his lips, perfectly sliding over his neatly kept beard. "You should go inside Konohamaru. I don't want you catching any secondhand smoke."

"But - "

"Inside," his uncle interrupts, sending Konoh a pointed look. The younger boy sighs, plopping a kiss on my cheek before he gets up and wanders back inside, probably off to go find his little girlfriend. "We should talk," Asuma mumbles, squeezing my thigh again as his eyes wander around the yard, most of his focus on his smoke.

"About what?" I ask, taking another inhale of my slowly dying cigarette. I smoke on occasion, well a lot more than that since I started dating Asuma so long ago, but he's still a heavier smoker than me.

He stays quiet, the both of us slowly huffing and puffing our nicotine as I wait for him to answer. "I'm a little obsessed with your tummy pouch today."

"Why do you keep calling it that?"

"You're right, womb tomb would sound better." He chuckles at his joke, making me roll my eyes. What a doofus. "I don't know," Asuma mutters, pausing to inhale the smoke from his cigarette again. I do the same, letting the burning sensation burn my lungs. "This whole baby shower thing and watching you with Konohamaru recently has me thinking."

     "About?"

     Another long pause, this time filled with two puffs. "Giving you a baby." The words hang in the air for a moment, slowly sinking into my gut. "Do you want me to give you a baby?"

     "Yes!" I answer quickly, snapping my head toward my husband. My cheeks heat up from how quickly I answered, the squeeze to my thigh and the slow slide up of Asuma's fingers adding to the stirring of my gut. "I mean..." I mutter, my eyes locking on the fingers clinging to my leg. "I think we're ready to be parents if you think we are."

     "I think we are. Besides, I'll enjoy making that baby with you." Asuma chuckles again, using his hold to pull me closer to him. He flickers his cigarette to the ground before leaning his mouth to my ear, his soft breath tickling me. "Though, seeing my creampie in your pussy will be my favorite part I bet."

     "Asuma!" I hiss, glancing around to make sure we are alone outside.

     He chuckles again, his hand finally leaving my thigh just to grab my hand. "Come on, let's say goodbye so I can get you home."

                        ———————————

     The tension stewing between Asuma and me is drowning, leaving me almost dazed as he slowly leads me up the flights of stairs to our apartment. A hand is back on my stomach pouch, slowly rubbing it as the other hand gently pushes on my hip, leading me across the way. He's buried in my neck, nuzzling my hair as his lips press soft kisses into my skin.

     I stumble over my feet, excitement from being on our floor fogging my mind. Asuma chuckles at me, clinging to me to stop me from falling. "Someone is excited about becoming a mommy, or maybe you're just excited for me. Which one is it, baby doll?"

     "Both," I murmur, trying to drag him to our front door quicker. He laughs again, letting me tug him forward. Once I get us in front of our door, I'm pressed against it, Asuma leaning into me as he digs through his pockets in search of his keys. His boner is pressed against my ass, only making me more excited. "Hurry up."

     "Have a bit of patience, baby doll. Give me a second," he mutters, shoving his key into the lock before twisting it. "Go sit pretty in the bedroom and wait while Daddy has a cigarette," Asuma orders, landing a smack to my ass.

     I let out a yelp, a smile crossing my face as I cover my butt to avoid any further taps to it. As I beeline for our bedroom, he wanders off to slip out to the porch, going to have another smoke like he said he was going to. Eagerness bubbles in me as I slide through our bedroom door, the promise of sex being the main thing on my mind with the hint of having a baby rattles around in the background.

     I do what's expected and what was asked of me. My clothes are stripped off as I work towards the body mirror propped up against the wall. As soon as I get in front of it, bare with my clothes thrown across the floor, I sink to my knees, settling onto them in front of the mirror.

     If Asuma could be summed up in one word it would be protective. Whether it's for his nephew, his students, the village, or me. He's protective over everything from enemies to my conscience. My perfect guard dog, too lazy to pick his shoes off the floor but not too lazy to go toe-to-toe with my self-doubt.

     I sit in silence, looking myself over in the mirror as I wait for him to finish his smoke. The longer he's gone the more I fester over the pouch of my lower stomach. How can I feel so sexy and loved when Asuma grabs at it but hate it when I'm looking in the mirror? I've tried every workout and diet possible to at least shrink it if not get rid of it, but no matter what I do it just stays put.

     Last week I broke down about it and he explained it was just a small amount of fat, an extra protective layer to keep lower stomach organs safe. Whether that's true or not is beyond me but he keeps insisting it's normal to have and his 'new favorite spot'. I think it's always been his favorite spot, especially since he has a habit of pressing on it during sex, but I won't complain about how he chooses to love my body.

     "Don't look at yourself like that, baby doll," Asuma's voice flutters out from behind me, startling me a bit.

     My eyes jump away from myself in the mirror, settling on the image of him left in nothing but his boxers. My sight slowly trails across his face, dropping down his defined chest and torso, ogling at his bicep muscles on the way down before settling on his exposed hard-on. It still amazes me how a man cut from God's personal hotties cloth cannot only want to be with me but physically can't control parts of himself at the sight of me.

     "Why can't you look at yourself how you look at me?" He asks, tone teasing but his eyes have a hint of sadness in them. Asuma moves forward a step before crouching down, his knees on either side of mine and a hand on my shoulders to box me in. His free hand jumps to my chin, tipping it down so I lock eyes with myself. "Give the pretty girl in the mirror a compliment."

     "She's a very smart girl," I mutter, shifting my eyes away from the mirror. It almost hurts to look at myself for too long.

     Asuma chuckles, using his hold on my face to shift me, lining my sight with myself again. "That is true, baby doll, but I meant a compliment about her looks. I think she has a sexy stomach that's only going to get sexier when it starts growing our child. Even more sexy than that after her stretch marks start setting in."

     I simmer on his words for a moment, letting them manifest in my head. I knew I was going to gain weight if we succeeded at getting me pregnant but the thought of stretch marks never crossed my mind. Would Asuma find my stretch marks sexy?

     "You'd look like a sexy tiger," he butts into my thoughts as if he could read them. "Plus it would be a permanent reminder of the precious life your body built and natured. There's nothing sexier than the mother of my child and the stretch marks left behind because of the wonders her body performed. I wouldn't choose anyone other than you to perform such wonders for me, baby doll."

     The smothering of compliments heats my body again, tingles stewing between my legs and a blush quickly covering my cheeks. My cheeks that Asuma also smothers, this time with kisses instead of compliments. "Compliment yourself, baby doll. I want to hear you say how pretty you are."

     I stay silent for a moment, glancing over my image, looking for any part of myself I find attractive. "I have pretty eyes. They're a nice shape and the color isn't terrible."

     "I love your eyes. I love the color of them. I love how they light up when they find me," Asuma mutters in response, the hand on my shoulder sliding my hair out of the way while the hand clinging to my chin tilts my head to the side. "Keeping going."

     "Um... I like my hair too. It's a pretty color and I like how I keep it relatively healthy and that I can change it in all sorts of ways."

     "You have beautiful hair. I love how messy and wild child it is in the morning," he reinforces, his lips quickly finding their way back to my neck. Asuma softly sucks in the skin of my throat, still light enough not to leave any marks but hard enough that tingles form and drop straight down.

     The hand not keeping my head tilted and eyes locked on the mirror is softly massaging my shoulder, quickly abounding that to cup one of my breasts. Asuma softly massages it, kneading it like he's done to my stomach all day.

     "Compliment your titties, baby doll," he mumbles, gripping it a bit harder as his thumb finds its way to my nipple, rubbing slow circles into it.

     My eyes fall to my chest, trying to scrape up any half-assed compliment I can come up with. "I... am happy I have them. I'm happy they'll help me nature our child."

     Asuma softly chuckles, releasing my boob just to switch his hands around and play with the other one. "I'm happy you have them too. They feel so perfect, filling my hands just right. I can't wait to try your breast milk."

     "Asuma!" I yelp, a shaky smile on my lips as my cheeks heat up again. "You're such a perv."

     He tilts my head the other way, letting my chin go to slide my hair out of the way again. "How am I a perv? You can't expect your tits to start producing milk and for me not to try it." Ya, I guess he has a point. I should have seen that one coming.

     Asuma's hand doesn't go back to my chin this time. Instead, it starts sliding down my front, stopping at my stomach pouch he loves so much to press his fingers against it. "Compliment your stomach, baby doll."

     My eyes drop down to where his hand is, stewing as I look at the spot. His hand doesn't stay there long though, quickly sliding down again, beelining for my pussy. Asuma's legs shift wider, his hand cupping my knee to pull my legs apart too before going back to its main course. His fingertips slide through my folds, taking their time as they trail over my clit.

"Asuma," I whine, jerking my hips when his fingers start moving away from my clit.

"You're not getting any attention until you compliment your belly," he mutters, his grin stamping into my throat just as much as his lips.

"That's not fair."

"I think Daddy is being very fair," he chuckles, head lifting as the tips of his fingers dip into me. They don't say long, pulling away again, sliding through me again to spread my forming wetness. "It's just a bit of self-love, baby doll."

I melt into Asuma, leaning against him as he looks at me in the mirror, eyes burning with passion as he toys with me. One or two small circles to my clit, nibble fingers tailing down to poke his fingertips into my pussy before trialing back up. "Daddy," I whine, trying to jerk my hips further onto his fingers.

"Compliment," he mutters, his hand falling from my breast long enough to shift my hips back up before it's back on my boob. Instead of kneading it this time, Asuma toys with my nipple, pinching it between his fingers as he tugs on it. "I want to hear you compliment your perfect tummy. Put those pretty lips to work for Daddy."

I let a few whines spill out, the tingles of want from my pussy quickly beating out my defiance. "My belly is perfect, now touch me," I whimper, my hands shooting backward to take a grip on his short-kept hair.

Asuma chuckles, the corners of his eyes scrunching with happiness. I love how he loves me. I love how he helps me love myself. "You're such a good girl," he coos, finally dipping two fingers completely into me. A long moan tumbles out, back already starting to arch as he curls his fingers.

Another chuckle comes from him, the hand on my tit falling to my legs to pull them further apart. "Watch, baby doll. Watch what I'm doing to you," Asuma mumbles, chin to my head to gently push it downward.

I do as I'm told, shifting my head down the mirror. Once my eyes are in place, he starts slowly pumping them in and out of me. "Compliment your pussy," he orders, picking up his fingers a bit as his hand grips my leg tighter. "Is your pussy pretty?"

"Yes, Daddy. My pussy is pretty," I babble out, trying to rock my hips.

Asuma's fingers tumble around, positioning themselves so his thumb can run over my clit as he stretches me out. "Good girl," he coos again, rubbing my clit a lot slower than his fingers thrust into me. "What do you want from me, baby doll?"

"A baby," I mutter, the buzz of my approaching orgasm already fogging my mind. "I want you to give me a baby. Your baby. Please, Daddy?"

Asuma lets out a hissed breath, thumb circling quicker as he mutters to himself. "Are you sure you want a baby? One hundred percent sure?" My head snaps up, locking with his eyes in the mirror as I quickly nod my head. "Use your words, baby doll."

"Yes, I'm sure. I want a baby. One hundred percent. Give me a baby, please." The last word comes out as a hissy whine, my orgasm quickly ticking to its tipping point. Asuma releases my leg, hand jumping up to cling to my chin again. He tips my head backward, his lips quickly finding mine as his fingers start to curl again.

The ticking comes to an end, my cunt clenching around his fingers as I come undone. Asuma's mouth catches my satisfied moans, swallowing them as pridefully as the grin on his face. "I'll never get tired of you cumming on my fingers," he mumbles, slowly pulling his lips away from me.

Even though this is the millionth time I've heard the confusion, it still makes me buzz with giddiness. "Then do it again," I whisper, avoiding his intense eyes sparked with arousal and his want for me.

"How did I end up with such a selfish baby doll?" Asuma teases, hands clinging to my hips, coating one side with my juices still coating his hand. He shifts onto his knees, positioning himself before I'm tugged on, my hands falling out of his because of the movements.

I'm lurched backward, actually positioned on my knees instead of just sitting on them before Asuma releases one of my hips, a hand settling between my shoulder blades to push my chest against the mirror. The chilled glass sends a shiver through my body, making my nipples harden even more. They almost hurt from the chill and the toying they had earlier.

My hands stumble onto the mirror, being pressed against them as I settle into my new position. I turn my head to look back at him, wondering what exactly he has planned. "Look at yourself, baby doll," he orders, his hand jumping from my back to my hair, using it to shift my head forward so I can see myself in the mirror. "I want you to see how pretty your face looks while you're taking my dick."

Just like that, the spark between my thighs starts to roar again. At the moment, my cheeks are red with a hint of sweat from the work over I've already received. My eyes flutter, watching Asuma as he lines himself with my pussy, the tip of his dick tapping against my hole. "Watch," he orders again, his big hands wrapping around my hips again as he stares at me in the mirror.

"Yes, Daddy," I whisper, letting my eyes drop again, locking with themselves in the glass. His hands feel warm as they cling to me, trying their best to keep a hold of me without bruising my skin.

Asuma slowly inches into me, stretching me so perfectly as he works on bottoming out. "Your pussy always feels so perfect wrapped around me, baby doll," he groans, squeezing my hips as he waits for a second, enjoying the feeling of me, and letting me enjoy the feeling of him.

My face is redding just a bit, eagerness for Asuma, embarrassment from the compliment, and my body temperature rising from the short interaction.

As he slowly pulls out, a hand slides down, resting against my belly pouch he loves so much. "Right here is where our baby is going to start forming," he mutters, pressing on the spot as he thrusts back into me, a bit faster than last time but still pretty slow. "Our child is going to grow from right here. Your stretch marks are going to form because of this spot. I'm going to be permanently stitched right here so I can enjoy both our wonderful baby and my beautiful wife."

My mouth stays open a bit, shaky breaths spilling out and coating the mirror with a bit of condensation, making the glass foggy. "Daddy," I mutter, trying to work my hips backward. I need more, I need him to move faster, I need something else from him. "Please?"

"Please what?" He chuckles, picking up his pace as he presses on my stomach harder. Cocky man that gets off on feeling the indent of his penis in me. "Please give you a baby? Please fill you up until I'm certain you're pregnant? Is that what you want?"

I watch the way his words affect me, my pupils widening the more turned on I get, and my tongue begging to poke out, a beg I give into. I look like an amateur pornstar, tongue hanging out as I pant and doe eyes begging for more of my husband. No wonder Asuma finds me so sexy.

"Answer me, baby doll," he mutters, thrusts picking up again as his hand finally trails away from my stomach. His fingers slide against my clit, the pads of his fingertips softly toying with me. I quickly nod my head, the ticks of my orgasm starting up again. "Use your words."

"Yes, please. All of it. I want all of it. Daddy, please?" I ramble, words coming out muffled by my moany breaths.

"You're so hot," he groans, his fingers picking up their pace. Asuma's head falls to lay on me, hot breath and sloppy kisses coating both my shoulder and my neck as he fucks me. "You're going to be such a hot mom. Repeat, baby doll. Say it."

"I'm going to be a hot mom," I echo, my back curling down as my orgasm starts to close in again. Screw Asuma, screw his talented fingers, screw him making me cum before he fucks me so it's easier to amp me up again and get me to cum on his cock. It's almost humiliating how easily he plays my body.

"Again."

"I'm going to be a hot mom. I'm going to be a hot mom. I'm going to be a hot mom," I say on repeat, already knowing he's going to make me repeat it a thousand times. "Asuma," I whine, cutting off my broken record repeat when my orgasm is knocking at the door.

"Squeeze my dick, baby doll," he mutters before softly sucking on my throat again. An embarrassing high-pitched whine spills from me, my body obeying his demand, squeezing his cock as I come undone once again during this round.

With a fresh coat of my juices coating his cock, Asuma slides into me easier, his thrusts hitting harder from the added slickness. "Are you ready, baby doll?" He starts to babble as his head lifts off me. His continued thrusts toe the line of overstimulation from the lack of a break to my body. "Are you ready for me to fill you up? For me to make you a mommy? For you to make me a dad?"

"Yes," I breathe out, letting my eyes slide upward.

Asuma's chest is pumping like crazy from the workout, his smoking catching up to him in the moment. His eyes are locked on my figure in the mirror, jaw locking when he notices my sight has shifted. "Fuck," he grumbles, gripping my thighs to tug me backward, his dick stilling in me. It's only a second or two before his cum spirts out, filling my pussy with a weird warmth I haven't experienced before.

His head falls again, his forehead pressed against mine, the sticky sweat helping us stick together better. "You're so pretty. Absolutely beautiful, baby doll. Perfect in every way," he babbles, routinely squeezing and releasing my hips from his grasp. "Fuck," he grumbles again, holding on to my hips as he pulls on me.

There's a shallow sweat-made silhouette of my body against the mirror, outlining my position against it. I'm tugged backward, pulled off the mirror before Asuma positions know he wishes; still on my knees, ass up, and my cheek pushed into the carpet of our bedroom.

"I was right," he mutters, an airy laugh following the short sentence. His hands are between my legs, spreading me open so he can get a good look at my pussy. Embarrassment crawls up my body again from being so exposed, even if it is Asuma looking at me like this. "Watching my cum drain into you is my favorite part."

"Asuma," I whine, trying - and failing - to close my legs, cutting off his view of my soaked cunt.

"What, baby doll? I can't enjoy the sight of your pussy clenching as my semen seeps into you? It's a beautiful sight, I'm going to enjoy it while I can." His fingers dip into me again, pushing his cum into me faster. I might be the selfish lover but Asuma is the impatient lover. "Lord, I can't wait for your stretch marks to start forming."

[themodernwitchsguide]

runes and their divinatory meanings

ᚠ fehu

BRIGHT STAVE: wealth, transaction, gold, prosperity, the fiery spark that can initiate productivity. creativity, energy, and generosity

MURK STAVE: greed, duplicity, slavery, materialism and dishonesty, wolves lurking in the forest

ᚢ uruz

ᚦ thurisaz

BRIGHT STAVE: primal strength and persistence, energy, tenacity, the survival instinct, raw energy, desire

MURK STAVE: stubbornness, brutality, waning strength, the fragile ego that acts out

ᚨ ansuz

BRIGHT STAVE: willingness and drive to protect oneself, manifestation of primal will, primordial energy

MURK STAVE: violence, mental disturbance, sexual predation

ᚱ raidho

BRIGHT STAVE: inspiration, oration, "divine breath," heed the advice of the divine

MURK STAVE: being manipulated against the divine, lies

ᚲ kenaz

BRIGHT STAVE: movement, propulsion, journey, discipline is needed to enact a change

MURK STAVE: forced change, chaos, swimming upstream

ᚷ gebo

BRIGHT STAVE: spark of creativity, bright ideas, fire power and energy, light in the darkness

MURK STAVE: pain, exposure and weakness

ᚹ wunjo

BRIGHT STAVE: generosity will be returned, sacrifices made out of love and loyalty

MURK STAVE: stinginess, evil repaid with suffering, charity used to polish self image and boost ego

ᚺ hagalaz

BRIGHT STAVE: joy, bliss, happiness, a sense of belonging with loved ones, support and achievement

MURK STAVE: depression, alienation, rage

ᚾ nauthiz

BRIGHT STAVE: storms and forces beyond our control, our own darkness becomes potential for creation

MURK STAVE: that which festers and broods under the surface, change for the worse

ᛁ isa

BRIGHT STAVE: strife and strain, desire, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger

MURK STAVE: poverty and health concerns

ᛃ jera

BRIGHT STAVE: take a much needed break, reinforces the runes it's close to

MURK STAVE: blockage, illness, self-loathing, laziness, lethargy

ᛇ eihwaz

BRIGHT STAVE: the harvest will be fruitful, your efforts will pay off, this too shall pass

MURK STAVE: efforts put in the wrong place, a poor harvest

ᛈ perthro

BRIGHT STAVE: strength, reliability, mysticism, clairvoyance, communication with ancestors

MURK STAVE: associated with death, caution is advised

ᛉ algiz

BRIGHT STAVE: good luck, good karma, birth/pregnancy, major life altering decisions

MURK STAVE: bad karma, addictions, pessimism, repercussions for your actions

ᛊ sowilo

BRIGHT STAVE: represents a shield (spiritual/ancestral/physical), things we hold sacred

MURK STAVE: something is in danger, take stock and look for unseen dangers

ᛏ tiwaz

BRIGHT STAVE: health, success, life force, radiance, facilitates positive change

MURK STAVE: arrogance, misuse of power, distorted mindset, approach with balance

ᛒ berkano

BRIGHT STAVE: stay on track and stay disciplined, order, righteousness, the god Tyr

MURK STAVE: over-sacrifice, tunnel vision, loss and imbalance, rage and frustration

ᛖ ehwaz

BRIGHT STAVE: light, renewal after chaos, fertility, birth, love, "feminine" magic, children

MURK STAVE: problems conceiving, negativity/confusion with love, unwillingness to change

ᛗ mannaz

BRIGHT STAVE: travel, fruitful partnerships, mutual respect, loyalty, sex

MURK STAVE: jealousy, unequal exchange, strife in partnerships, take care of what's important to you

ᛚ laguz

BRIGHT STAVE: mind and memory, human nature or connection with others, balance between masculine and feminine

MURK STAVE: loneliness, difficulties with intimacy, possibly issues concerning gender (as in personal identity or conflicts with others)

ᛝ ingwaz

BRIGHT STAVE: success, the primordial waters, creation and fertility, psychic visions and dreams

MURK STAVE: subtle manipulation, hypnosis, paranoia, poor decision making, avoiding responsibilities

ᛞ dagaz

BRIGHT STAVE: the god Freyr, gathering of loved ones, home and hearth, peace, prosperity, (male) fertility

MURK STAVE: someone unwilling to leave, responsibilities being avoided

ᛟ othala

BRIGHT STAVE: dawn, illumination, hope, unifying unlike aspects, joy for life is balanced with responsibilites

MURK STAVE: warns that the truth can be painful

BRIGHT STAVE: everything inherited, oaths, revisiting roots, family, ancestors

MURK STAVE: elitism, ethnocentrism, discrimination

[theweeklydiscourse]

Have read all the ACOTAR books? Who is your favorite character and least favorite character? Would love to know what do you think overall of that book considering it's so huge in the book community.

I have! I read them one after the other back in 2021-2022 and I definitely came away with many thoughts about the series and the implications it had for the book community.

My favourite character among the cast is Nesta. Although she is certainly influenced by Maas’s incongruous and shoddy writing style, I find that she presents a compelling point of contention for the rest of the characters. To me, Nesta seems to be one of the only characters in the series who is able to point out and articulate the madness of what is happening within the Inner Circle’s dynamics. She’s tenacious and unafraid of voicing her opposition even when doing so leads to ostracism and mistreatment from those around her. She’s far from perfect, but at least the text acknowledges her flaws and had her grow from her mistakes instead of sweeping them under the rug. I’ll always feel inclined to defend her because I don’t like the way she’s bullied by the narrative and on some level, I think her nasty qualities make her more interesting.

My least favourite character is Rhysand on the basis that his existence in the narrative makes reading ACOTAR a frustrating experience. It’s clear to me that Maas harbours some immense authorial favouritism towards Rhysand and it SHOWS. This means that Rhysand must always be morally justified, the most powerful, the most righteous, the most beautiful, and so on. The story can’t just sit with his actions, it feels the need to profusely explain them away so his image never has to change or develop into something else. Rhysand has a reputation of being morally gray, but it’s abundantly clear that Maas is averse to taking any risks that would actually cement him as a character with that level of complexity. As such, if you’re able to recognize his faults and contradictions, reading ACOTAR is akin to swimming upstream in a raging current. You have to fight the narrative in a way that is both unrewarding and needlessly frustrating.

As for my opinions on the series, I’ve always thought it had potential, but that it was also undeniably bad. It’s popularity in the Bookish community is expected because it’s very easy to read and get absorbed into the world. The very “teenage” dialogue and character dynamics could appeal to a wide variety of people and a number of people have stated that the series pulled them out of a reading slump. That being said, the series is bogged down by a long list of Maas’s flaws that make me resent ACOTAR’s popularity. Not to mention that some fans will hound you if you point out the flaws in the writing.

Here’s some of the things that stick out to me: Gender essentialism is rife in her stories and it’s very “males will be males” coupled with a rigidly heterosexual model for all relationships in her stories. Also, Maas’s use of feminist rhetoric butchers the values of that ideology and uses it as a flimsy tool for her male characters self-actualization and pseudo-redemption. Furthermore, the books are way longer than they have any right to be and would benefit from being cut down by 100-200 pages. Her plot lines are full of contradictions and are not harmonious, she retcons so many things that people convince themselves that many characters are “unreliable narrators” even when that term doesn’t apply in the slightest. *sigh* it’s just bad writing.

All in all, I get really annoyed whenever problems with ACOTAR are dismissed with “it’s not that deep” or “just don’t read it!” Because I think that engaging critically with these stories is important and that they should be subject to review.

[villainsimpqueen]

(Image from pinstrest.)

Parluna'vi Folk-lore

River Navi: Unmoving water brings danger.. (No fanclan associated.)

“Settle down everyone, silence your voices and keen your ears to my warning words. There is something of death that lurks in the swamp's waters.

It creeps under the stilling waters, using the thick dreading fog as its mask around its eyes. If you go near the creature's waters foolishly, it will turn its gaze on you like a hunter drawing an arrow to a bounty. Should one of you dare grow bold enough to enter its waters, thrashing its stillness around in motion, it will be seen as nothing more than an invitation—a shrilling call to an easy dinner. This creature will find its way in the deep waters below you, its long craning neck leaving its shoulders to rise above, its jaws wide and large with daggers as teeth ajar as it waits. Its patience never straining until you foolishly still, barely kicking to keep your face above the murky water.

You will not see it.

You will only feel it when its sharp teeth embed into one of your legs and drag you below to the swamp's murky bottom, its many claws finding you and ripping you apart as it feasts on your drowning body. The sound of your screams filling the freshly disturbed muddy waters' melodies in its ears.

Do heed your elders' warnings, do not near the swamp's waters, do not enter its line of sight. For our kind must stay in the clean, brighter waters, where it flows down and upstream. We are protected as long as our waters are rushing and bright. The Parluna'vi do not enter rushing waters. They are unable to swim with its rushing currents, for they will grow too tired and perish. Always swim in the rushing waters of our home, never the still ones.”

[monsterfloofs]

🦑🪐🎻

Albiorix (Alien) x Anonymous Reader (sfw)

(Squid bby, squid bby, squid bby!!)

You looked down from high above the starlite stadium, rows upon rows of seats filled with chattering beings from all corners of the galaxy. It was an amphitheater, massive in design, made to hold concerts with vast swimming crowds of beings.

It was your first time attending an event in something so gigantic, you surmised that there had to be a maintenance crew that lived here, when the amphitheater wasn’t in use. It could have easily been its own space station, charting courses to each new solar system, to sit spinning in the orbit with electric signs and screens that showcased collective talent from across the stars.

You bump into a tall android like being, that glanced over its shoulder at you.

“Sorry!” You squeaked before ducking away.

“Humans. . .” They muttered, and your heart sank, holding your tablet to your chest. You hadn’t synced your glasses to the data show that the others were participating in yet. Sticking to your tried and true methods of information until you found your seat. It must have been spectacular though, so many captive faces held in wonder, looking at a fixed point in the theater. It was eerie without the glasses on, folks just staring hypnotized into space.

You checked your tablet again, releasing a breath of relief as you sat down, and switched on your glasses. Suddenly the quiet space was bustling with dancing lights and commotion, a bright electronic pink heart pulsing above the theater, sending jagged zaps of electricity over the crowd.

No wonder everyone was staring, you watched the lightning shower into pixels that were swept into different images and sayings. Welcome in a stellar wide reach of languages.

Then a sound of strings purr to life as the light show fades, and a hush goes over the crowd. A soft glow illuminating the stage below, it was too far away to see the musician from this height, but screens blinked on to display the figure.

A multitude of string instruments help aloft with tendrils, as four arms played them, with elegant bows. Albiorix, nicknamed the symphony of one. You stared at the screen in fascination, how did they have the mind to do that many things at once? Being able to read all those different lines of music and notes. Yet their expression was as serene as the sunrise.

It was a captivating hour of song, ending with a spectacular and rigorous performance of a particularly complexe and fast melody. They bowed with all four arms behind their back as the crowd exploded into applause.

You took off your data-specs, letting yourself get bustled back to the shuttle by the waves of beings. Many were talking excitedly to each other. You put a hand in your pocket to fish out your pass back home, coming out empty handed. You felt your stomach plummet.

“Oh no. . .” You breathe, before turning like a fish trying to swim back upstream.

“Sorry! Excuse me! Oops— my bad!” You squeeze back through the crowd to check your seat. Patting down the chair and looking underneath it, in hopes of finding one stray card that had slipped through your fingers.

“Is there a lost and found near-by?” You asked a couple, who blinked multiple eyes before pointing.

“Thank you!”

You hurried down the stairs, tapping away at your tablet, in an attempt to send a notice up that there was a missing pass.

By the time you had talked to multiple beings, and searched high and low, most of the large crowd had cleared out.

“You can order a new pass,” A friendly face suggested,

“Won’t it take days to register a new one? Especially in the busy season?”

They looked sympathetic, “You can message your family, the station does serve food and has guest lodging.”

You try to smile, but it comes out frail and strained.

“. . . Thanks for your help anyway.”

You sigh, rubbing your cheek, so much for a short jaunt away from homeworld. At least it was going to be 10 days before the amphitheater was going to start its next leg of the journey. You try to cheer yourself up, putting your specs back over your eyes and looking around at all the signs that sprung up into your vision. Taking the path towards the room services to buy a room for the night while you waited for your new pass to come in.

“I didn’t know someone else was in this sector!” A cheery voice sounded at your back, causing you to turn around. Surprised as you saw Albiorix, four arms full of teetering musical equipment. Your eyes wide as you jumped to assist them.

“Oh! Thank you, thank you!” They bubbled, as the two of you fumbled around until you could stand back with some of their things held safetly in your arms.

“No one came to help you?”

“Oh-“ they made a sound like a cork being shot out of a pipe organ, waving a tendril dismissively.

“I told them to take the night off, I’ve lugged this stuff the galaxy over, and they besides deserve a break.”

You blinked, at the rather rude sound, an incredulous smile cracking across your face.

“Tosh,” They trumpeted cheerily, “Besides, I wouldn’t have run into such a kind soul if not! I was raised in a very different environment you know,” They rambled, “Not as social as these ecosystems, and I must say, I am a fan!”

You trailed beside them, a smile growing across your face with each step.

“I’m Albiorix, by the way,”

You laugh, “I think I know who you are,”

Another pop sound, “You know my music! Not me, I mean, true, that is a part of me! But did you know that I am quite the talker?” They blustered cheerfully. “Musicians can be very different then their tastes, when I was a young little shrimp, why there was this one very talented musician, with the personality of a—“

You never knew what they were, because it just so happened that the word must have not had a proper translation in your communicator. And you laughed out loud at the noise they made. While a language barrier existed, the tone came through loud and clear.

“They were really that bad?”

“Deplorable! From then on, I wanted to be a musician that could make friends wherever I go.”

You grin up at them, “Well. . . I think you accomplished that very well.”

[beautifulmars]

HiPOD: Out of Eberswalde

This observation shows us the most prominent of several channels around the margin of the basin upstream of the Eberswalde delta. With a closer look and stereo pair at some point, we can study the channel in better detail and determine valley dimensions. (Image cutout is less than 5 km across.)

ID: ESP_074470_1555 date: 16 June 2022 altitude: 258 km

NASA/JPL-Caltech/UArizona

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 13

Oilstripe and Burdockpaw run across a kittypet named Apple Cider.

[Image ID: Oilstripe and Burdockpaw face a warm brown tabby on the left of the screen. Under the tabby, it reads ‘NEW PLAYER: APPLE CIDER, 22 MOONS, SHE/THEY, REBELLIOUS, LORE KEEPER’]

“Do you think StarClan really blesses our memories?” Burdockpaw asked as he sniffed the edge of the Great Northern River.

“If they didn’t,” Oilstripe hummed, scanning the water, “do you think we’d be able to remember everything we do?”

“I don’t know,” Burdockpaw grumbled. “Didn’t Fennelspot say something about cats fading in StarClan? If historians remember so much, how come cats fade away?” Oilstripe slashed at the water and snagged a small fish hurrying toward the ocean.

“I’m still figuring that stuff out,” Oilstripe said through her fish.

“How can you be my mentor if you don’t know that stuff?” Burdockpaw huffed. A cheerful meow bounced through the trees on the other side of the river before Oilstripe could put her little brother in his place.

“Hi there!” Oilstripe and Burdockpaw looked over the river. A warm brown tabby stood along the river’s edge, tail high. Green-yellow eyes glimmered in the late afternoon glow.

“Hello?” Oilstripe mewed back hesitantly.

“I believe we’re neighbors now!” the cat yowled. “I’m Apple Cider! My humans moved into the village north of here a few days ago! Do you live out in the southern farms?”

“We’re Clan cats, actually,” Oilstripe explained, sitting politely beside her catch. “My name is Oilstripe. This is my brother, Burdockpaw.”

“You need to stay on that side of the river,” Burdockpaw called. “We can’t have kittypets hunting in our land!”

“Oh ho ho, is that a challenge?” Apple Cider laughed, wiggling their flank.

“We could tell you more if you’re up for a chat,” Oilstripe suggested.

“No, thank you!” Apple Cider chirped. “I’m just saying hello to all the neighborhood cats. We can swap stories another time. Nice to meet you!” With a simple wave of their tail, they trotted upstream, tail swaying behind them.

“There are humans up north?” Burdockpaw asked. “I thought they only lived south by WheatClan.”

“Apparently not,” Oilstripe hummed. “Come on. Let’s go tell Downstar about our new neighbor.” 

(Oilstripe: 17, female, historian, charismatic, ghost sight)

(Burdockpaw: 6, male, historian apprentice, loyal, interested in Clan history)

(Apple Cider: 22, she/they, kittypet, rebellious, lore keeper)

Fennelspot couldn’t imagine how boring life would be without a friend like Scrubmask.

[Image ID: Fennelspot follows Scrubmask. Under Fennelspot, it says + PLATONIC LIKE: SCRUBMASK. Under Scrubmask, it says + PLATONIC LIKE: FENNELSPOT]

---

Most of RippleClan knew what the other Clans thought of Scrubmask. In their eyes, she was a monotone molly whose pessimistic worldview meant she wasn’t long for RippleClan’s bubbly culture. A lot of that was true; Scrubmask was a steady, slightly sour figure among a Clan of hopefuls. For Fennelspot, though, a sour friend was exactly what he needed.

“If willow bark is so effective,” Scrubmask sighed as she led Fennelspot through the territory, “what’s the point of collecting lettuce?”

“You don’t want to over harvest any one source of medicine,” Fennelspot explained. “Wild lettuce has a stronger sedative property than willow bark. I used some when I amputated Parsley’s tail.”

“Oh,” Scrubmask hummed. “Just tell me what to do, then.” Scrubmask slowed and walked beside Fennelspot with an empty basket dangling off her neck, carefully balanced against her chest. The pair fell into a gentle rhythm as they made their way to the open reaches of the territory by WheatClan. With Scrubmask at Fennelspot’s side, there was a comfort in even the most tedious of tasks.

(Fennelspot: 70, male, cleric,  insecure, valuable insight, incredible runner)

(Scrubmask: 30, female, warrior, gloomy, fast runner, good hunter)

[malavoie1]

Trillium Flowers at Jessup's Falls Conservation Area

On a visit to Jessup's Falls Conservation Area, back in May, I was captivated by the beauty of a vast expanse of Trillium flowers in full bloom. The vibrant greens and delicate white petals presented a serene and captivating landscape.

Using a wide-angle lens at 10mm allowed me to capture the expanse of the scene. Even with a low aperture of ƒ/3.5, the depth of field on this lens was enough to keep the subjects in focus. One of the challenges was dealing with the flat lighting under the forest canopy. However, this even lighting also provided an opportunity to capture the scene without harsh shadows, allowing the intricate details and colors to shine. To ensure a sharp and clear image despite the handheld shot, I opted for a fast shutter speed of 1/320s. This choice was crucial in preventing motion blur and maintaining the crisp details of the scene. I set the ISO to 400, balancing the need for sensitivity in the low-light conditions with the desire to minimize noise. Holding the camera steady for the handheld shot was another consideration, but the fast shutter speed and shake reduction effectively mitigated any potential blur.

I was particularly drawn to the repeating pattern of the Trillium flowers and their large number, which created a rhythmic and harmonious visual experience. In post-processing. I composed the image so that the moss-covered boulder was positioned according to the rule of thirds. It became a key element in the composition adding a point of interest. I dodged the boulder slightly to bring it out more, enhancing its prominence and ensuring it stood out amidst the sea of flowers.

Jessup’s Falls is a gateway to natural discovery, located on the South Nation River where Prescott-Russell Highway 17 crosses the river via a steel truss bridge in Plantagenet, Ontario. The conservation area spans 13 acres and offers a variety of activities including picnicking, geocaching, and dog walking. The park is a popular fishing paradise with rock outcroppings perfect for casting a line, and it also features a floating dock and boat launch for river enthusiasts. The scenic views of cottages, wildflowers, and mature white pine and oak trees add to the area's charm.

The land was originally owned by Lieutenant Edward Jessup, who was granted 2,000 acres along the South Nation River following his military service. In 1980, Jessup’s Falls Conservation Area, previously named South Nation Provincial Park, was deregulated by the Ministry of Natural Resources and Forestry (MNRF), and purchased by South Nation Conservation in 1986. Jessup’s Falls received its name from a set of rapids which existed prior to the construction of the Carillon Dam in 1963. The Carillon Dam on the Ottawa River created higher water levels upstream, thus eliminating the falls on the South Nation River. Over the years, the name Jessup’s Falls has had many variations, including “Jessop’s Falls”, “Les Chutes Jésuites”, and “Les Petites Chutes”.

The Conservation Area has been declared an Area of Natural and Scientific Interest (ANSI), housing many species at risk. This recognition highlights the importance of preserving the natural and scientific value of the area, ensuring its protection for future generations.

Processed with Affinity Photo v2 and Topaz Photo AI.

Camera: Pentax K-3

Lens: Tamron SP 10-24mm f/3.5 DI II

10mm / ƒ/3.5 / 1/320s / ISO 400 Taken: May 12, 2024

[othmeralia]

Clean Water: the Water Pollution Game!

According to the game's rulebook, to play the game "each player assumes the role of a water pollution control official who is responsible for stocking his lake. [They do] so by collecting appropriate organisms as he moves around the game board, confronting the problems of water pollution each time he lands on a 'pollution' triangle. Throughout the game, [they] must learn to anticipate possible pollution of his lake, attempt to avoid the problem of overpopulation, manage his finances efficiently, and consider the problem of possible pollution coming from upstream. A player wins the game by controlling water pollution successfully and thereby being the first to completely stock [their] lake."

Urban Systems, Inc., the game's publisher, was a consulting and research firm, whose president, Richard H. Rosen, was an ecologist and environmental engineer. While teaching undergraduate air pollution classes at Harvard, Rosen produced a number of anti-pollution board games for educational purposes.

Image citation: Science History Institute. Clean Water. Photograph, 2022. Science History Institute. Philadelphia.

[ogradyfilm]

Recently Viewed: Evil Does Not Exist

[The following review contains MINOR SPOILERS; YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!]

What I admire most about director Ryusuke Hamaguchi is the clarity of his themes. Although his films tend to be narratively dense and structurally complex, it’s also entirely possible to express what they’re actually about in a single word. Drive My Car, for example, thoroughly explores the concept of communication—language, compromise, and unspoken regrets. His latest work, on the other hand—the hauntingly beautiful Evil Does Not Exist—is explicitly a meditation on the subject of balance.

The story revolves around a quaint, quiet rural community in a mountainous region of Japan. When a talent agency based out of Tokyo proposes a plan to develop a local deer trail into a luxurious camping resort, the residents vehemently oppose the notion; while the increased tourism might bolster the town’s economy, it would undoubtedly upset the delicate equilibrium of the ecosystem. The location of the site’s septic tank is particularly contentious; because its estimated volume is too insufficient to adequately accommodate the maximum number of guests, excess waste would inevitably pollute the groundwater—and, consequently, the nearby river. As the wise, affable village chief patiently explains to the project's hopelessly naïve public relations managers: “Water always flows downhill. What you do upstream will end up affecting those living downstream.”

This central conflict permeates every aspect of the production. The sound design is especially exquisite, contrasting the harmonious symphony of the undisturbed natural world—the rustle of dry leaves, the flutter and chirp of songbirds, the babble of a trickling brook—with the dissonant cacophony of mankind’s gradual encroachment—the mechanical roar of a chainsaw, the echoing thwack of an axe splitting logs, the thundering crack of distant hunting rifles. The cinematography is similarly characterized by juxtaposed extremes. Hamaguchi favors long, uninterrupted takes observed from only one camera angle; he’ll pan slightly to adjust the frame, but otherwise refuses to artificially impose rhythm via editing. This deliberate pacing makes the jarringly abrupt transitions between scenes more impactful; cutting from a static image to a rough, jittery handheld shot immediately shatters the previously still, serene atmosphere, disorienting the audience and irrevocably altering their perception of the setting.

A friendly warning to less adventurous viewers: do not seek out this movie expecting a happy ending, or even a concrete conclusion; as the end credits roll, major plot threads are intentionally left unresolved, and several significant questions remain unanswered. A conventional tragedy would, at the very least, provide some semblance of closure—a coda suggesting that the preceding suffering ultimately served a greater purpose. Evil Does Not Exist, however, offers no such “comfort” or “satisfaction”—just the hollow dread of an uncertain future.

[mister-writes]

7 Snippets 7 People

I was tagged by the wonderful @tabswrites over here! Thanks so much for tagging me!

Gently tagging @card-queen, @loopyhoopywrites, @blind-the-winds, @sarahlizziewrites, @sam-glade, @writernopal and an open tag!

One

The flames made Maedri think of the bonfires at the midwinter festival. That was the only other time in her young life she had seen them roar so high.

Two

Suddenly he was nineteen years old again. Smoke in his lungs. The taste of blood on his tongue. Fire dancing before his eyes.

Three

Her memories ached with the images of auras flashing out of existence, flames darting up the walls, men’s shadows swarming around her. 

Four

Every hair on her body stood on end. Her hand clenched around the box in her pocket, the power within driving a slow, steady beat through her skull. A man was moving through the column of soldiers like a trout moving upstream, parting them easily as water. A man whose aura crackled and writhed within him like an untamed fire. An aura that was a deep, haunting, familiar red. 

Five

It was a lie. It was a lie and they both knew it, and all Maedri wanted to do was scream.

Six

 For the first time in five years, Kerris found his curses turning to something like a prayer under his breath.

Seven

“Answer the question,” Kerris said, taking a step forward.  “Or what?”  Kerris drew his sword, the blade glinting in the moonlight as he extended it toward Reijin’s neck. Reijin cocked one eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re man enough to finish it?”