#surface molting

[iguanodont]

The Monoculi (informally dubbed ‘peebs’) are not exactly a new species from me, but they’ve gone through a pretty drastic redesign since I last posted anything about them. These are a spacefaring species from the same universe as birgworld! Details under the cut.

The Monoculi are so-called for the large compound eye that comprises the “head”. The densely packed ommatidia allow for crisp image resolution, and a variation in the depth of the lenses give the eye a range of acuity from only a few feet along the lower half to hundreds of meters along the top. Monoculi are nocturnal creatures which evolved to navigate complex cave systems by day and tangled branches by night; they have good depth perception and low-light vision but are nearly blind in regular daylight, and cannot perceive color.

The Mono homeworld is peculiar for the presence of a ring, the remnants of two moons which collided early in the planet’s history and bombarded the surface with chunks of space rock long after the planet’s crust had cooled. The result is an unusual abundance of heavy metals in the environment. Iridium, a prohibitively rare mineral on earth, comprises orange-yellow compound which carries oxygen through a Monoculus’s veins. The ring itself also has drastic effects on seasonal surface temperatures, though as on birgworld, life there has adapted accordingly.

Monoculi molt to grow like earth arthropods, but they only do so one segment at a time. A newborn larvae, one of 2 - 5 siblings, will remain soft and aquatic for about 8 months, until it loses its gills and hardens for the first time. They do not begin growing the first proper body segment until the thorax is as large as an adult’s. Molting and mating are both intimately tied to mineral pools found deep in their ancestral cave system. Without them, a molt will invariably fail and lead to severe health complications. Monoculi are hermaphrodites, and mate by pressing the gonopores (small openings under the first pair of arms) against the soft carapace of a first - third instar body segment, fresh after molting. The spawn will bore directly into the segment and trigger its transformation into a reproductive segment, which falls off after young are produced.

These sophonts are relatively large and long lived, with 200+ year old individuals sporting nearly 20 body segments not unheard of. They are also well into their space age, with a once-thriving space tourism industry buckled by a massive recession in recent decades. Rumour has it that several of the abandoned exoplanetary retreats still harbor stranded staff… but the company that built them dissolved and nobody has scraped up to funds for a rescue mission. They avoid contact with other sophonts, with the exception of the swimslugs, with whom they maintain a friendly cultural and technological exchange.

————

Btw, I do still post almost weekly sketches and worldbuilding notes on my patreon

[kagrenacs]

Long awaited, here is the soil map of Skyrim using the Canadian System of Soil classification. Brief description of my conclusions under the cut:

Chernozem: Whiterun Hold is likely home to the majority of Skyrim’s Chernozems. The majority of biological carbon sequestering in grassland environments are below ground, within the root systems. Organic material- humus, builds up, causing the upper layers of the soil to take on a dark colour. Additionally, Solonetzic soils could be present, peppered throughout the hold if the parent material to the soil is salty enough.

Cryosols are formed in Skyrim’s far North and high alpine regions. The mean annual soil temperature being 0 degrees C, with permafrost conditions. Freeze-thaw cycles lead to permafrost at the soils surface, but also cryoturbation: soil movement arising from frost action.

Additionally in mountainous regions, you would find Regosols. Soils which develop on unstable landforms and have had little time to develop, such as mountain slopes, or river floodplains.

Gleysols occur across the landscape of Skyrim, but primarily in Hjaalmarch. Gleysols are commonly found in depressions or low-lying areas where water saturates the soil continuously, leading to a molted characteristic to the soil.

Organic soils would primarily be found in the water saturated soils of Hjaalmarch. These are wetland soils found in forested areas and are commonly known as peat, muck, bogs or fens.

Borrowing from the USDA soil taxonomy, Inceptisols are light colored soils with moderate alteration, occurring under cool and cold climates. These soils would be found in the Eastmarch caldera.

Luvisols are associated with forested landscapes overlying loamy glacial till, or on clayey lacustrine deposits. Lake Honrich dominates a large portion of the Rift, according to UESP, seemingly draining from the lake. I believe this to be the site of a melted glacier, the lake being meltwater. Clay sediments are associated with lakes because of their deposition, coarser sediments bordering the lake near the shore, and finer particles at the deepest reaches. Additionally, at the end of the Karth river, where sandy deposits would be deposited at Solitude, before the stream looses power further down the river, leaving only clay to be deposited.

Podzols are associated with igneous parent materials, coniferous vegetation and high acidity. Primarily they are found in Falkreath Hold and Southern Eastmarch.

Brunisols are an intermediate stage between Regosols (undeveloped soils), and Podzol or Luvisols. I believe with the unstable, mountainous landscape of the Reach, soils would remain still rather undeveloped. Brunisols would also be interspersed among the Luvisols.

[yellosnacc]

Uniima larvae come in large numbers but high mortality rate as these onigiri have to compete to become juveniles even in the egg case.

They start off with an egg wall. Their bodies are still clumbs of cells that slowly fill up the inside of the 'egg', consuming the included nutrients. Once they are ready, the baby grows it's own wall for the first time and 'hatches'.

After this the larvae molts as it grows with a new wall each time. During the whole larval period the shed skin sticks to the white. If adults don't clean them up, you will see multiple torn layers on top of the white, which can cause issues.

The white grows a straw. A somewhat brittle organ compared to that of ancestral larvae but functional enough to pierce under another whites wall (especially in the side seam). The larva actively feeds itself using this, though the food has to be liquid enough to get through the straw. They don't smell or see to search for food and will just wiggle the straw around until they can slurp. These triangles are mostly fat and liquids with other tissues in the center and thowards straw.

When they completely lose the straw (the entrance to it reforms), they start eating with their new mouth. At this point they also start making noise with their nostrils. Adult Uniima are sensitive to this much more than to the visual cuteness of the larva. This is often when adults start claming individuals to raise.

As the creature grows and gains complexity inside its own wall, it's new molts allow for use of more developed parts - anal cavity opens, ear cycles appear, eyes get bigger and closer to the wall surface, "mouth hands" with leathery pads emerge.. and lastly it's whole legs with fingers (often just silhouettes of feet show up rather then whole fingers or they are webbed).

After it's last stage and sufficient amounts of food, the white goes dormant to metamorphosise. This can take a week and less as most juvenile components are already in place.

The larval stages of Uniima can differ in length depending of environment - temperature, humidity, lack of food...

The average time from birth to metamorphosis is around 3 and half earth months.

The images here are not fully up to scale. Most larvae grow more between the stages but it's also not impossible for it to be to scale. I would just consider this larva a runt of the litter.

[captorations]

okay so re: lobster immortality there's got to be a way to crack this. like, they've done half the work already, yeah? they don't age, they grow until they are no longer able to muster the energy to shed.

i see three issues. the first is the square-cube law. proportional growth becomes exponential for volume and surface area. if allowed to grow indefinitely, a lobster will quickly find itself overly burdened by gravity. this can be fixed by launching it into space. an orbital aquarium, perhaps lunar as a temporary measure.

secondly, as the creature grows larger, it will likely require more nutrients than it can feasibly absorb. this is easily fixable through cybernetic implants, adding new methods of intaking nourishment as necessary.

and finally, the molting. the thing is that you can't just, like, help it molt when it can't do it by itself. it has to initiate the process, form an exoskeleton under its current one, or breaking its shell will kill it. you have to make its metabolism think it has enough energy to molt, then provide at least enough energy for it to actually manage the first part while you handle the second. the solution here is obviously cocaine. or the lobster equivalent of cocaine.

of course, a lobster under these conditions would still very likely take hundreds of years to grow. it would not be a project a single human could see through. unless they did something crazy like transfer their consciousness into the lobster's brain. but that's veering just a bit too far into the hypothetical.

so what i'm saying is that a cocaine-fueled cyborg titan lobster deployable from orbit may not be a benefit of being a marine biologist, but it *may* be a benefit of being a marine biologist's great-great-great-great-great-grandchild.

[bogleech]

Sorry if you think these are gross disgusting images or whatever but I did eventually give up feeding store bought pork blood to pet leeches because the bite is completely and utterly painless anyway and they don't carry diseases. The only risk is bacterial infection but that's rare and I just put a band-aid on the bite with antibiotic. I've done it off and on for six years but now it's the only way I feed them because I know it's safe for them, plus, they go six months to a year between eating. These photos are all the same leech after feeding for 20 minutes, and that is the same jar in the last two comparisons; they genuinely stretch out that much while they eat. Now over the next couple of days it will actually molt, shedding its skin in one piece, and get larger permanently. This species is Hirudinaria manillenses, the "Asian Buffalo leech," the second largest blood-drinking leech and the largest of the "jawed" leeches. The very largest blood drinking leech is a "proboscis leech" and I would not want to raise one of those this way because this is how a jawed leech (like mine) feeds:

A TINY surface bite, by tiny little jaws at the center of the sucker

But this is how a "proboscis leech" feeds:

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo I was actually fairly squeamish and afraid of bleeding before I got leeches, but I still hate needles. Getting blood drawn at the doctor is still a hundred times more noticeable than a giant jawed leech bite. I think a giant proboscis leech bite is probably worse than that, the proboscis is all covered in microscopic barbs I do believe.

This is what the proboscis leech looks like on a guy:

I forget what that arrow is pointing to, possibly one of the pores used in mating? If you haven't seen it here's a little video I took of a baby manillensis swimming around in one of my huge jars:

[blues-of-randomness]

What the Smiling critters do when they're stressed out (headcanons)

Bubba - Stutters and goes "uhh" every few words, Biting/sucking his trunks (doesn't do this one in public very much), binge eating

Kickin - Yanking on his feathers (espiceally during molting), chewing on his fingers, making chirping noises like a baby chick (also does this when he's sad), gets very snappy at the others

Catnap - gripping whatevers close to him very tightly, hugging himself even if his claws come out (he's accidentally cut himself this way many times), tail wrapping around himself (legs, ankles, waist, etc)

Dogday - Tail between his legs, whines and shakes, he'll talk to his friends looking for a distraction for the stress, hides away from everyone

Hoppy - becomes very irritable more so than usual, tugs on her ears, get's very very testy with the others, hops up and down like a tantruming toddler

Crafty - Becomes very quiet or quits talking entirely, looks down at her feet and won't meet the others eyes, retreats to her skecthbook, has to fight herself in order no to cry

Picky - indulges herself with pb&j sandwhiches (this is also stress eating), stays in one place and will not move, starts rambling on and on about nothing, panting

Bobby - fiddles with her necklace, scratches her wrists, digs her nails into her hands, cleches her jaw really tight, pounds her hands on any surface she can find

[mousy-nona]

Head-cannon for thought?

Lucifer has duck wings so they molt every spring and end of summer. Luci dealing with molting… with Alastor??

Excerpts from “Duck Care for Dummies: Hell Edition”:

Molting can be painful for your aquatic friends! Their skin can get very sensitive during this time, and some ducks may even pick on their fellow birds. Please be patient with them throughout the molting process. 

Alastor looked up from the book with a grin that sent Angel Dust scurrying for cover. 

“Very interesting,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming fever-bright. 

The mystery started a few weeks ago. The denizens of the hotel had woken up one morning to find some mysterious prankster had scattered feathers everywhere – between the couch cushions, on the stairs, even stuffed between the kitchen cabinets and in between the radio speakers (that one felt a bit personal). 

So began a strange battle, with the hotel on one side and what appeared to be the ghost of Mother Goose on the other. Every afternoon, they’d finish cleaning up the remnants of last night’s avian snowstorm, and every morning they’d wake up to find a new layer of radiant white down covering every possible – and impossible – surface. 

Husk finally lost it when he found a stray piece of fluff floating in his rum. “Alright, ‘fess up! Who the hell is shaking their tail feathers around this damn place, huh?” 

He glared daggers at Vaggie, whose very conspicuous wings flared wide as everyone turned to stare at her. She marched forward until she and Husk were nose to nose. 

“What the hell are you implying, huh?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m implying, you overgrown chicken!” 

It was mayhem. Charlie rushed to Vaggie’s defense, Angel Dust pulled out a bin of popcorn, Niffty started chanting kill kill kill kill at the top of her tiny lungs. But Alastor, who made a habit of haunting the shadows, spotted something no one else did: one of Lucifer’s hands twitching towards his back. Where his own wings would be, when he wasn’t hiding them. 

“Interesting,” Alastor grinned, then disappeared to the library, where he found this book after a few hours of intense searching. Someone had moved it from the shelves and shoved it under a massive pile of papers – almost as if they didn’t want anyone to find it.  

Unfortunately for Lucifer, Alastor was nothing if not thorough. Humming a swinging, jaunty tune, flipped to the last chapter. 

So your duck is molting…what should you do about it? 

Unlike their earthly counterparts, ducks in hell may go through a much longer molt without help. A good avian caretaker can speed up the process by helping brush out the feathers. A light touch is essential – using a soft brush or bare fingers is the best way to dislodge the plumage without hurting the sensitive skin underneath. 

“Very interesting.” 

He waited until nightfall to make his move. When the hotel had finally quieted down, and the only thing he could hear were the roaches in the walls, he willed himself to appear by Lucifer’s door and knocked, just once. 

Lucifer cracked open the door, his eyes bloodshot and bleary. He looked as if he hadn’t slept properly in days. “Charlie, is that – oh. It’s you.” He sighed, visibly deflating when he saw who it was. Alastor’s smile widened. 

Oh, he was going to enjoy every moment of this. Especially the parts where Lucifer would protest, and stutter, and turn as red as one of his beloved apples. 

“I was doing a little light reading today, and stumbled upon a rather interesting passage.” 

Lucifer scoffed and tried to slam the door in his face, but Alastor managed to slip his foot in the crack before he could.

“Alastor, it’s really way too late for this – “

Alastor held up the book in question, and Lucifer shut up immediately. A pink blush spread across his pale face. Alastor could have purred with satisfaction at the sight of it. Oh, how he enjoyed making Lucifer uncomfortable. It was quickly becoming one of his favorite pastimes. 

“Would you like me to share a few verses with you? I must say, this portion about just how sensitive the skin grows during a molt is especially fascinating –” 

“Shut up!” Lucifer stuck his head out into the hallway and hurriedly glanced around, checking to make sure if anyone had overheard him. Then he grabbed Alastor by the lapels and yanked him inside. 

“Your Majesty, how very forward of you.” 

Lucifer pinched his nose between two fingers and took a long breath in. Out. “So you figured it out, huh?”

“That you’ve been spreading your body parts all over the hotel?” Alastor chuckled merrily. “Quite. I found it especially interesting how fond your feathers were of my radios.”

Lucifer had the grace to look a little sheepish. “Okay, that was childish, I admit it. But you’re not exactly the easiest person to live with.”

“That’s entirely by design, I assure you.” Alastor stepped forward, his smile turning coy. “But this little midnight rendez-vous isn’t about me. It’s about you, and your rather, ah, feathery problem.” 

Lucifer pouted, looking almost uncannily like one of his beloved toy ducks. “I’ve never gone through a molt alone, alright? Lilith is usually here to help me out, and…it’s a rather intimate thing to ask of Charlie.” 

“That’s why I’m here!” Alastor grinned. “Alastor the Radio Demon, at your humble service.” He swept into a grand bow, ending it with a little flourish of his cane because he was a showman, first and foremost. 

Lucifer blanched. “If you think I’m ever letting you within an inch of my wings–”

“And what’s the alternative, your Majesty? You’re going to fill the hotel with feathers until we all suffocate or drown? You’ll wait until Husk kills Vaggie?” He covered his mouth, feigning shock. “I didn’t realize you were so cruel! You would really stand by and do nothing as your daughter becomes a widow?”

Lucifer scoffed, but Alastor could tell that he’d hit a nerve. He paused and ran a frustrated hand through his golden hair. 

There was a long moment of silence. Then finally – “I do need help.” The words were so quiet, spoken so quickly it could have been a passing breeze.

Alastor stepped forward and wrapped one arm around Lucifer’s thin shoulders. Lucifer was burning up, his back so hot Alastor could feel it through his gloves. “The night’s not getting any younger.” He leaned in so his lips brushed the shell of Lucifer’s ear, delighting in his shudder, in the bob of his throat as Lucifer gulped. A thin line of sweat trickled down his temple. Alastor’s mouth watered, but he forced himself to sit still and wait. “I suggest we start immediately.” 

“Fine,” Lucifer sighed. Slowly, begrudgingly, he stripped off his coat and shirt, then willed his wings into existence. All six of them sprang out in a veritable shower of feathers. Alastor was covered in the stuff – feathers were in his hair, on his suit, stuck on his pants. A few of them even landed in his mouth, to his great displeasure. 

He spat them out and glared daggers at the angel, who looked like he might burst out laughing. “Sorry,” Lucifer said, not sounding even the slightest bit apologetic about the mess. 

Alastor determinedly shook off the plumes that he could find. Then he stepped forward, stripping off his gloves as he loomed over Lucifer’s wings. His smile grew as Lucifer shrunk back, staring nervously at the sharp points of his claws as they drew closer and closer to his tender skin. 

“Can’t you keep those things on?” He squeaked.

“No can do!” Alastor said, almost sing-song with glee. “The book said it would be better with bare hands.” 

“They probably didn’t think of the claws – oh!” He jolted upright, as if he’d been tazed. His eyes fluttered closed, a truly indecent sound ripping from his throat as Alastor rubbed the outer spot of his wings. A few feathers flew off, revealing bare skin beneath. With a gentleness that Alastor hadn’t known he’d possessed, he rubbed carefully around the frame of the wings first, working from left to right as he freed Lucifer of the worst of the molting.

Lucifer grit his teeth, his throat working as he fought to keep those strange sounds inside, but more and more escaped as Alastor finished with the edge of his wings and started working his way inward, towards the spot where his wings folded into his shoulder blades. At one point, Alastor brushed against a particularly sensitive zone near his upper back, and Lucifer let loose a long, low moan, his back arching up against Alastor’s graceful fingers. 

And Alastor, being Alastor, couldn’t let it slide. 

“Having fun, your Majesty?”

Lucifer turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. Like strawberries in spring. “Shut up,” he muttered.

Alastor’s hand stilled. “Why, I thought I was doing you a favor. I could stop here…”

“No!” Lucifer yelped, then buried his head in his arms, as if he wished the floor would swallow him whole. “I mean…”

“Yes?” Alastor prompted. The embarrassment! The shame! Lucifer’s humiliation was sweet on his tongue, like blood and spun sugar.

“Please continue,” Lucifer whispered, his voice mouse-quiet. Alastor chuckled. 

“It would be my pleasure.” 

Lucifer jerked and arched as Alastor finished his ministrations, the white pile of feathers on the floor growing into hills, then mountains. Finally, Alastor leaned back, humming with satisfaction at a job well done. 

“I daresay my work here is finished.”

Lucifer sighed, shaking out his wings with a groan of satisfaction. “They feel so light! I can’t remember the last time I could move them like this. I – Alastor, thank you.” 

Alastor grinned. “Save your thanks. Let’s just say…you owe me one.” 

Lucifer blanched and shook his head. “I am definitely not saying that.” 

As Alastor turned to leave, Lucifer grabbed his shoulder.

“My molting season…it doesn’t end for another few weeks.”

“And…?” Alastor prompted, his Cheshire cat grin stretched almost impossibly wide. 

“I would appreciate it if we could do this again,” Lucifer said, too fast, as if he thought he could pretend he never said it if he said it quickly enough. 

"An interesting idea! I'll be sure to give it some thought."

Lucifer spluttered, but Alastor was already gone, his radio laugh echoing endlessly into the night.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Open Your Home to the Common House Centipede

A common sight in homes throughout Europe, Asia, the Americas, and Australia the common house centipede (Scutigera coleoptrata) is a medium-sized species of centipede originally from the Mediterranean. In the wild, they prefer grasslands and deciduous forests where they can hide under rocks, logs, or leaf litter. These insects have also adapted well to urban development, and are frequently found in basements, bathrooms, and garages,  as well as gardens and compost piles.

Like other centipedes, the common house centipede has less than 100 legs; in fact, they only have 15 pairs, with the front pair used only for holding prey or fending off threats. All those legs let the common house centipede move up to 0.4 meters per second (1.3 ft/s) over a variety of surfaces, including walls and ceilings. The actual body of S. coleoptrata is only 25 to 35 mm (1.0 to 1.4 in) long, but the antennae are often as long as the body which can give this insect a much larger appearance. However, they can be hard to spot, especially in their natural environments; their tan and dark brown coloration allows them to blend in seamlessly to surrounding vegetation.

Though they pose little threat to humans, house centipedes are predatory. Their primary food source is other arthropods, including cockroaches, silverfish, bed bugs, ticks, ants, and insect larvae. S. coleoptrata is a nocturnal hunter, and uses its long antennae to track scents and tactile information. Their compound eyes, unusual for centipede species, can distinguish daylight and ultraviolet light but is generally used as a secondary sensory organ. When they do find prey, house centipedes inject a venom which can be lethal in smaller organisms, but is largely harmless to larger animals. This makes them important pest controllers. In the wild, house centipedes are the common prey of rodents, amphibians, birds, and other insects.

The mating season for S. coleoptrata begins in the spring, when males and females release pheromones that they can use to find each other. Once located, the male spins a silk pad in which he places his sperm for the female to collect. She then lays fertilized eggs in warm, moist soil in clutches of 60-150. These eggs incubate for about a month, and the young emerge with only four pairs of legs. Over the next three years, juvenile house centipedes molt 7 times, each time gaining new pairs of legs. After they grow their last pair of legs, immature house centipedes molt an additional 3 times, at which time they become sexually mature. If they can avoid predation, individuals can live up to 7 years in the wild.

Conservation status: The common house centipede has not been evaluated by the IUCN, as it is relatively common both in the wild and in urban areas. Although they have been introduced to areas outside their native range, no detrimental environmental effects have been associated with their spread.

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Photos

Joseph Berger

David Paul

Conrad Altman via iNaturalist

[hydroj1ns]

cold morning

Hawks wings (18+, gn! reader, FLUFF, edging, his wings are very sensitive, WING KINK, somno)

Many see him as the fastest, the #2 hero, a cocky bastard. But Hawks is really just a delicate songbird at the end of the day. 

He always makes sure to schedule a “lazy day” for each week in which he doesn’t have to respond to villain attacks, attend interviews, or do dirty work for the Hero Commission. 

On these days, he doesn’t leave your side at the crack of dawn to tend to those hero duties that you understand are necessary to keep the peace, but can’t help but find annoying.

On these days, you wake up to him still keeping the bed warm with his broad crimson wings, draped over your figure protectively while his head rests on your chest. 

On these days, he always sleeps shirtless, claiming it's “the most comfortable” for his wings. They don’t make any pajamas suited for wings that he particularly likes anyways. 

You take a glance past the foggy glass of Keigo’s (unbelievably expensive) penthouse to admire the falling snowflakes glistening and the white powder that sits on top of skyscraper roofs.

You feel his warm, scarred skin on yours that is like heaven on earth, and as your eyes drift back to his wings, you can’t help but want to run your fingers through the beautiful rouge. Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you lift one of the giant appendages to reveal the soft, downy feathers of the underside. Like typical birds, Keigo grows extra feathers in the cold months to provide thicker protection. 

Carefully, you flip him over so that he is lying on his back with the ventral surface of his wings revealed to more wholly appreciate his most prized possessions (second to only you). Slowly, your fingers trail from the bend of his wing down to the most delicate part of him, the fluffy winter molt covering his tertials closest to the base of the wing. This draws a sigh out of him as he shuffles slightly, but still remains in his dream state, undoubtedly still tired from last night's mission. However, this only eggs you on as you gently comb through feathers, relishing in their softness. Your hand travels farther down to the older, secondary feathers that came in with his autumn molt. These aren’t quite as downy, but they still feel like silk as you lightly run a single one between your index and middle fingers. As you continue your caressing, you notice his body squirming, eyebrows furrowing, thighs clenching and unclenching. 

Encouraged, you grab the feather oil Keigo keeps in the bedside drawer used to soothe his wings after particularly laborious jobs. After spreading the oil on your hands, you begin rubbing individual feathers, starting with the outermost ones. The smell of jasmine permeates the air, prompting you to lean closer to the crimson feathers, effectively breathing against them and triggering a whole-body shudder from the currently defenseless hero. You take note of this and lightly blow on a few more. Glancing back at your slumbering boyfriend, the rising tent in his shorts can no longer be ignored. “Cute,” you think, as a devious smirk makes its way onto your lips. You crawl over so you’re in between his legs and inch your face in between his crotch and blow a stream of air onto his clothed cock. In response, his whole body shivers, and his hips thrust up involuntarily so that the woody musk of his private area invades your senses. 

Finally giving into deepest desires, you release his cock from the confines of his Chibi Hawks© boxers and stare at it for a good few seconds. Your eyes can’t help but travel down his happy trail to his trimmed base and brown shaft that curves slightly to the right, a vein running down the side. Wiping drool from the corner of your mouth, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking on it like it's the sweetest popsicle you’ve ever had. This jolts him awake, and the tears previously hidden behind his sleepy lids escape from the corners of his eyes. Making eye contact with his golden irises, your pop your lips off the treat in front of you.

“Morning.” You smile sweetly, tilting your head, as if it was just another day.

“Thought I should help you destress, with everything going on with the hero commission and all.”

Keigo stares, eyes blown wide, at the erotic display of his cock against your cheek with his precum smudged all over the lips that he yearns to push his shaft past. You love when you manage to tear down his normally cocky demeanor to reduce him to the teary, desperate mess in front of you, all twitchy feathers and shaky shoulders. 

“Thought I was just having a really nice dream, that’s all…”

“Well the real thing’s better, isn’t it?” You immediately continue your suckling, this time taking him all the way down your throat. Groaning, he throws his head back and sinks back into the pillows. 

What else should you two do today? Should you take him to get breakfast at your usual cafe? Or maybe you should stay home instead and cook breakfast for him? Hopefully, you’ll remember to ask him after he undoubtedly ravages you for your early morning stunt. 

Taking advantage of your distracted state, he leans forward and wraps his hand around the obvious bulge in your throat, feeling himself inside you. 

“I’m this deep.” He says, tapping against the distended skin with a ghost of a smile on his face. “Aren’t I just so lucky to have someone like you who can handle all of me?” 

… And his cockiness is back.

After pulling out, he pushes you down on the mattress so that his hands are by your head, effectively caging you with his arms and enormous wings that shield you from the morning light reflecting off the snow.

One of his crimson feathers floats down to you, brushing your cheek lightly, trailing down your neck, to your collarbone, to your chest, and to your nipples. Your nipples, that are now perked up as a result of the brisk winter air. The mischievous feather won’t stop flicking at your hardened buds and as you reach down to snatch it up, he pins both your hands above your head, giving you an arrogant smirk of his own.

Frustrated, you whine out, “Keiiii…”

“You brought this upon yourself. Consider this a mistake you can learn from.”

He kisses you deeply, and you can feel his smile against your lips, as well as the naughty feather that has continued its journey down your sides, its light touch causing you to arch your back and close the distance between your two bodies. 

[goldenrodchef]

So, you're turning into a Pokemon

A guide by Gen Taranz

This is a guide for people who are turning into, are going to turn into, or have already turned into Pokemon. I'm of the third category, and I've been stuck like this for almost a year now. So, uh. I think I might be able to give some pretty good advice. The guide itself is below the cut.

This is part 1 of...I'm not sure yet. I currently have 10 sections planned, but I might add more if need be.

Section 1: How do I know it's happening to me?

Generally, if your skin suddenly starts turning an odd color like blue, you're feeling really itchy and fuzzy all over, or you're feeling odd bumps in weird places (like on your head or tailbone), I'm sorry to say, but you're probably turning into a Pokemon.

Now, that's not always going to be the case. But that's the best I got for if you're being turned into a Pokemon non-instantly, or sleebied.

You might not experience any of these. You might just go to bed one day, and wake up as a Pokemon. That's what happened for me, after all. If that's what happened, feel free to skip section 8 of this guide.

Section 2: Fur, scales, and feathers

These are not fun to have, in my experience. I only have fur and scales, but I'll do my best to talk about feathers too.

Fur is going to need to be groomed a lot. Your tongue might be your best bet here, many furry Pokemon have tongues built for grooming their fur. Of course, obviously you might not want to do that, so it's a good idea to invest in a good furbrush that you can hold, or ask a trusted person to hold.

Scales are less of a pain to take care of, and are the most like skin out of these three things, but are still very weird. My scales are a bit squishy, which is. Something.

We don't know of many feathered eebies yet, but from what I've heard, they're a pain to take care of. There's the whole preening process that you'll have to start doing, not to mention molting.

Speaking of, let's talk about shedding. For me, shedding happens once every two months or so, and involves my tail scales getting progressively itchier and itchier until they peel off and reveal a new layer. For others, it might involve your fur getting really itchy as your summer or winter coat grows in, or something similar happening with feathers.

For fur or feather shedding, having a rough surface to rub your body against helps a lot with helping get fur loose. If you have a scaly friend, ask them if you can rub against them to help shed your fur.

For scale shedding, rough surfaces also help, but warm baths also help in loosening that top layer of scales. They also feel really good if you're a water-type.

Section 3: Paws, wings, talons, and tails

I'm sorry to say this, but your hands are likely going to drastically change. You'll probably lose most of their dexterity, and it'll be much more difficult to do stuff with them.

If your hands are changing or have changed into paws...there's not much to do. You'll just have to find other ways to do things. My little brother, Cobalt the Giratina eeby, uses xyr tail to do most stuff now, which might be a viable option for those with flexible tails, but I'll get to those in a bit.

You might keep your thumbs, or you might not. I'm sorry. I wish I could help more. All I can really do is recommend using styluses, and looking into disability aids.

For those of you that are becoming avian Pokemon, you're likely going to have your hands become wings. And for those of you becoming dragon-types, you might grow wings from scratch.

These are definitely no replacement for hands, but you can fly now, at least?

What is a replacement for hands, though, is talons. Talons, at least from what I've heard, are pretty dexterous, allowing you to do most things you could previously do with your hands! Though this will likely be a balancing act, since you also use these to stand.

And now, tails. I...honestly don't really know what to say here, since Pokemon have so many different varieties of tails. My cousin, Jayden the Brionne eeby, has a tail instead of legs. My best friend, Lily the Buizel eeby, has two tails that she can spin. And myself, I have a Sobble tail that's prehensile. It really depends on what species you end up as.

One thing I've consistently noticed, though, is that tails are very easy to lose track of, especially if they're the waggy sort. It's extremely easy to knock stuff over with your tail if you're not paying close attention to it. So...pay attention to it.

Also try not to sit on your tail. That really hurts.

And that's part 1 of this! I hope that this helps any eebies and sleebies who are struggling with their bodies.

[orbital-inclination]

I requested more of the scenario Molt meeting og nightmare

I'm sorry for the wait anon! For a change of pace, you get a one-shot this time! word count: 3411 general content warning for canon typical violence and angst.

------------

Something grainy, like gravel and sand, crunched under the soles of his boots as he shuffled back a step. One looping tendril made contact with a roughly cut boulder behind him. The height of the stone reached his hip. Clumsily, he ran his phalanges along its surface. He stepped around it and stopped once he stood on the south side, uncertain of how to proceed from there.

It was rare that he found himself in a space so wide open without someone nearby. He’d like to think he was better at navigating now than he had been when he was younger. Yet, regardless of how much time passed, he could never seem to quite outgrow the sudden spike of anxiety he felt whenever he entered a space that seemed... empty.

 He didn’t know what he was walking towards or away from. He could be approaching a canyon for all he knew.

A steady, lonely wind howled above him. It caught the tail of his tunic and the fabric slapped against his side. Something rustled in the distance. 

The wind turned cold. 

Ley lines of magic, negative and positive, wrapped around this world in a vast net of ever-shifting ripe tides. Instinct had directed him to follow the nearest positive swell but now he felt it move again. Bending as though to make way. Just as suddenly as the air had turned cold, a well opened up, and negativity cascaded down the pit and condensed into a single point of black frost. 

A shiver ran down his spine. “Nightmare…?”

Something about Rem’s magic didn’t feel right—

“How unlike you to make the first move. Was it not enough for you to…” his brother’s voice trailed off. “You are not my brother.” 

No... no he was not. Rem’s magic felt cold, but not this cold. Though, the undercurrent of bitterness was painfully familiar. 

“… the sentiment is mutual,” Molt murmured. He steadied himself on the boulder behind him. Silently, he tried to gauge the other’s intent.

An air of suspicion and curiosity rolled underneath the cold. He had the sense he was also being appraised.

“And yet, you are Dream.”

He did not sound—did not feel happy about that.

“If it were not impossible, I would wager you were from a divergent timeline.”

“Our world had only one timeline,” Molt confirmed cautiously. His voice remained low. “… it’s tied to the multiverse itself. No resets. Just the one.”

“Ah, so you are informed,” his brother's voice mocked. “Your presence here suggests a paradox, then. For all my searching, I have never met another iteration of us who could breach the confines of their AU on their own. It seemed there was some law restricting the role of Guardian to Two.”

He nodded because that more or less described the situation back home. With a renewed sense of scrutiny, Nightmare said, “Can I assume then, that instead of your brother, you were the one who bit the apple?”

And Molt stalled. The question was so direct. It felt a bit like a verbal slap to the face. 

Nightmare hummed. “I see. That expression you’re making... It makes sense for my alternative self to have other motives if you are like this yourself.” He heard the grin in his tone, even if he could not see it. “Tell me, Dream. What do you say to adding to that collection of yours?” He— he couldn’t be serious. 

“In this multiverse, you have the opportunity to increase your power. If you collect the last apple from my brother, perhaps we can reach an agreement.”

His mouth felt suddenly dry. He had to consciously still his tentacles to keep them from lashing defensively.

“You… you want me to kill my counterpart.”

He struggled to wrap his mind around that. Less so the threat itself and more so that it was Nightmare who was asking him to do it. He felt sick.

His brother’s alternate rumbled a low laugh. “It would not be difficult for you. You dwarf him in raw power. I’m confident you could easily subdue him... Ah, but I see I cannot convince you. The thought distresses you. A pity.”

Gravel and sand crunched underfoot. The sound came quietly. “ … hmm just as I thought, you are blind.”

“...what are you doing?” 

Nightmare was amused by the question. Dread washed over him. Nightmare had been speaking to him civilly until that point, and while this mirror of his brother gave off an ambient feeling of danger, he had not taken the feeling as seriously as he should have. 

“I am considering what to do with you. Since it seems you are reluctant to cooperate. But you would be of a dull mind not to suspect that already. If you are anything like the thorn I have in my side now, I’m sure you will quickly surmise why I simply cannot let your existence go unchecked.” 

Molt slowly shuffled a step back. 

“… where do you think you will escape to? Are you even aware of what is behind you?”

Molt froze.

He sensed no one behind him but— the subtle rustle of fabric. A step was taken closer and it dawned on him that Nightmare had been trying to distract him.

Molt’s hearing was keen. It had to be. He learned to rely on it when sensing nearby emotions, and the flow of positive and negative wasn’t enough. But his haptic memory was better, and with one tentacle brushing against the boulder behind him, he knew which side he stood on and which direction he originally came from. 

He darted around the boulder, squarely placing it between himself and Nightmare. His brother’s alternate self stood still, contemplative and mildly surprised. 

“Hm. You cannot see, and yet you are able to pinpoint my position. Interesting.” 

Molt didn’t feel like providing a reply.

Nightmare didn’t move for a width of time that felt like years. And then, he vanished. The cold sucked out of the air in a blip of distorted space-time.

Alarm seized him. Given no time to think, he picked direction and distance at random and took a shortcut through. As he felt his bones materialize in reality again, a dense frame of cold magic solidified where he had stood seconds prior.

Displeasure radiated off of Nightmare in waves. “Come now. Don’t run. It’s unbecoming. We can discuss the terms of your departure from this world with maturity.”

Molt shivered. “Don’t. I would return to my reality if I knew how.”

“Then allow me to assist you,” Nightmare said, and the malice in his words sent needles crawling up his spine. He vanished again in a wash of cold. Molt leaped back, grasping at the nearest tide of positivity to carry him away.

He found his feet again on the sand. The sudden incline made him stumble. The seconds it took to catch his balance nearly cost him. A frustrated growl and the sensation of ice to his right was the only warning he had before a sharp object whistled past his skull. He teleported again and Nightmare followed. 

“Enough! Cease this childishness.” The burning cold struck his side. Molt tumbled to the ground. He rolled, gasping in pain, and launched himself to the side. “Stop! I don’t want to fight you.” A loud crack sounded where he’d just been. Gravel pelted his arm. 

“Then what happens next is your own fault,” His brother’s voice snarled.

He took another shortcut. Aiming north of the dense vortex of cold desperately trying to put some distance between himself and his brother’s counterpart. He needed that distance to escape this AU. If he attempted the jump too close to Nightmare he might unintentionally drag him along, or Nightmare would be able to sense where he went and this fight would never end. The temperature plummeted. In a split second, a cold tendril snapped around his middle. And then he was flung. His body hit the ground once, twice, and his skull was knocked against something hard. 

A hiss shuddered through his ribcage. Molt clenched his teeth as the world spun, attempting to swallow back the sound. 

“You brought this on yourself, Dream.” 

Gravel and sand crunched at a steady pace. Malice approached slowly. 

He struggled to push himself upright. The ground beneath him swayed dangerously. His tendrils lashed, writhing in defense of their host. But the ground beneath him lurched, his arms buckled, and the ground swung up to meet the side of his skull again. 

His soul pulsed so fast and hard in his chest, he thought he was going to be sick. 

“Poetic, isn’t it? I wonder... did the same desperation drive you?”

Cold wrapped around him and slammed his back into a hard, stone wall. 

Claws dug into his jaw, roughly pinning his skull to the stone slab behind him. A strained hiss tore from his bared teeth. He found the strength to wrestle one arm free and dug his claws into the wrist pinning his head down. Nightmare’s strength didn’t waver, but an involuntary noise rattled through him, a jolt that was close enough to a flinch to be nothing else. 

Faintly, Molt felt the phantom echo of a hot brand race up Nightmare’s arm, starting from where his claws dug into his wrist.

“W-why are you doing this? I am not from your timeline, so why?”

“The distinction is irrelevant,” the grip on his jaw tightened. “This fate, it’s the least you deserve. For everything you put me through. For every day I was left to defend myself while you selfishly basked in undeserved praise.” 

Exhaustion crept into his limbs. He felt weaker and heavier by the second.

“Would you have always resented me?” Molt gasped out. “If things had been different... If our lives had been better—”

Nightmare barked out a bitter laugh. “Even as you are now, you are naive. No. I cannot imagine a world where I did not hate you. For us, no other outcome was possible.” Molt flinched. “... you doubt me? Do you actually believe my alternate self doesn’t resent you?” 

The knife in his heart gave a sharp lurch. It would make sense... wouldn’t it. For all he hadn’t done, who wouldn’t resent him? 

“N-Night...”

“You neglected your responsibilities, Dream. You were selfish. I’ve always wondered if you had known what I stood to lose that day. If you had known what they had planned to do—” “Nightmare!” Molt snapped. He was terrified, his soul shook, and he was painfully cold. “That was my home too!” Something snapped. He felt the abrupt, quaking shift in Nightmare’s demeanor. Rage colored all rational thought. Molt didn’t know what he intended to do and he didn’t have time to think about it. That rage solidified into a single, sharp tool. Malice soaked the thing so vividly, he could almost see it. A serrated bone dagger.

Molt jerked his head to the side, the claws on his jaw slipped, and something sharp and blisteringly cold scraped the side of his skull.

He might have blacked out for a few seconds. He couldn’t be sure. One moment, his vision was black. Then it was white. He’d yanked a tentacle free in the next. A resounding crack thundered through the stone lab behind him. Nightmare’s grip on his head slipped, caught off guard. Molt kicked his shin, and as Nightmare staggered, snarling, he flash-stepped out of immediate reach. 

A safe distance away he sank to the ground. 

Head swimming, he lifted a shaky hand to the side of his skull. He felt bone. The dry, clean surface of a malar bone. The muddy, blurred shape of his palm swam in and out of focus. 

Nightmare stood very still for a long moment. His emotions felt stunted and Molt could not identify the feeling that had rendered him so still. Moments ago, Nightmare had been content to hurt him in every possible way.

“Get up,” Nightmare said. And he couldn’t identify the emotion behind that command either. It felt like anger but brittle. “I said get up!”

A tremble racked through his body. He felt a forbidden spark of anger ignite in his throat and shakily rose to his feet.

As he slowly lifted his gaze, palm still pressed to the side of his skull, he saw black tar and went still. 

It was one thing to guess the shape of the magic that had tossed him around the field like a rag doll, but it was another thing entirely, to see it.

The ground felt like it was tilting. Nightmare was taking too long to respond. And though he hid it well, he was clearly in pain. Head swimming. Pounding. Red-hot needles. Nausea pricked through his brother’s bones.

Nightmare took one step closer. Molt flinched back, and a bitter smile crawled over his brother’s teeth—

“NOT SO FAST!”

A sharp ping. His vision was eclipsed in hazy blue. Before Molt could blink, he found himself yanked to the side, several feet away.

He was released, gently at that, and stumbled once as gravity resumed its normal weight. The world erupted in a cacophony of noise. With color and light sloshing together, it was difficult to make out shape and form, but the stirring magic immediately in front of him was familiar.

“Blue?” Molt whispered, but like Nightmare his magic felt just slightly off. The hope in his soul withered. He was surrounded by strangers.

“MWEH HEH HEH FEAR NOT STRANGE INTERDIMENSIONAL CITIZEN! WE ARE HERE TO SAVE THE DAY. NIGHTMARE! YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY WITH THIS!”

Whatever his brother’s mirror said in reply it was drowned out by noise.

“Wait.”

But his voice was too low. Too quiet. And his plea went ignored.

Too much happened at once after that. The Swap Sans launched himself into the fight. Light. Movement. A flash of white. Bones summoned then shattered by the furious sweep of a black arm. Nightmare’s strength was weakening. The balance had tipped. And battling three by himself? Nightmare couldn’t keep this up for much longer.

Most of the fight happened too fast for his barely stable eyelight to track.

So he did what he always did when the world around him became too chaotic to follow. He reached for the cold pitch of his brother’s magic. 

He followed the current of cold as it funneled into a singular point. Pushed back, and back again by a burning white star. Hope. Concentration. Concern for the other, yet the courage to see his actions through to the end. The familiarity of the magic here was disconcerting. But his head already ached something awful and he didn't think his nausea could get much worse. The phantom lashes he’d endured at Nightmare’s hand still burned. But... Nightmare. He felt his twin’s exhaustion, felt the unsteady slip to his heel, and his alternate was closing in now and—

The shortcut was rough. Poorly executed. And finding his balance on the balls of his feet was not fun. He raised his arm defensively, anticipating the attack seconds before, and found his hand closing around the pole of a golden staff. It smacked into his palm with a solid clank. It hurt only a little bit. His own magic absorbed the brunt of the blow to feed itself. To lessen some of his own pain. And staring into the wide eyes of his own face was... 

Dizzying. 

Everything was dizzying. 

That startled look melted into one of fear, and it didn’t make sense. His own rib cage hitched, sharing that fear second hand and then it dawned on him how this might look. Oh. He thought. …oh.

He released his counterpart's weapon and yanked his hand back. The other skeleton flash stepped out of reach, his soul pulsing with the rhythm of a terrified rabbit.

Within the pool of frigid cold at his back, he felt a spark of something that felt suspiciously like gratitude. Nightmare struggled to stand for a moment, winded, then laughed. The sound was not pleasant. “Recklessness must be a universal trait.”

“That’s enough,” Molt rasped. “Please. Just stop…”

“You should have taken my offer when you had the chance,” Nightmare sneered, words bitting. But more than anything, they felt defensive. The darkness pinched into a small, black star, and then he was gone.

“I SEE. WAS I MISTAKEN THEN? ARE YOU AND NIGHTMARE ALLIES?” Blue had taken a defensive stance beside his teammate. His weapon was drawn, but he didn’t move yet. His soul hummed with grim focus. The suspicion hurt. 

Molt struggled to speak for several precious seconds. Unsettled. He was reeling from the fight, from everything he had learned about this reality and the cruelty of his brother's words and actions and he was trying ever so hard not to let a tremble snake its way into his voice. It was very hard... to hear someone say those awful things in Rem’s voice.

He shook his head and said softly. “We aren’t.”

Blue’s brow furrowed. “THEN, WHY DID YOU DEFEND HIM? 

The words ‘because he is my brother?’ were on the edge of his teeth but the hostile edge to Blue’s magic and tone made him pause. It was less a question and more of an accusation. And that answer wouldn’t have been exactly true besides. 

The tendril on his back coiled defensively. 

He hadn’t stopped to think before he leapt in front of Nightmare. It hadn’t been a “should I or shouldn’t I” situation in his mind. In that moment he was unable to look past the pain and hurt his brother’s mirror was experiencing. In that moment, the distinction didn’t matter. He had to put a stop to it, that’s all. He couldn’t fight his brother. In any form he took. He just couldn’t do it. It reminded him of too much. And he couldn’t stand to watch that either. 

But how could he possibly explain that? 

A step behind his teammate, Dream was trying to calm down. Blue’s presence helped but he was struggling. Molt took a step back. He was causing someone pain and distress. He didn’t want that. Blue’s stance shifted. Bracing.

That felt like betrayal too. Molt swallowed something bitter behind his teeth and tried not to think of it that way. Ignored that small part of him that hissed and felt a little bit angry. It didn’t make sense. He knew the person in front of him wasn’t his friend.

“FRIEND, I WANT TO GIVE YOU THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT BUT... YOU ARE ACTING SUSPICIOUSLY.”

“I’ll leave,” Molt said. His head was pounding, and the last thing he wanted was to be dragged into another fight. “Wait...” Dream took a breath. “You’re hurt. Stay for a minute, let’s talk.” “DREAM IS RIGHT, POTENTIAL ENEMY OR NOT, IT WOULDN’T BE RIGHT TO LEAVE YOU THIS WAY. NOT TO FEAR HOWEVER, I AM ALWAYS PREPARED!” “It’s okay. I don’t need candy,” Molt said and felt vaguely like he was reading the lines of a script. If Rem or any of the others were here, they’d be calling his bluff. “Then, what do you need?”

“Somewhere calm, with hope. That’s all.”

The two exchanged a look. Surprise, suspicion, resignation, dread. “I SEE. SO YOU ARE LIKE DREAM THEN. BUT SURELY THAT'S NOT ENOUGH. I... I CANNOT SEEM TO CHECK YOU FOR SOME REASON, BUT YOU DO NOT LOOK WELL.”

Blue seemed to ask to Dream something silently. Concern. Suspicion. Acceptance. Dream sighed. “I know somewhere. It’ll be okay. We’ll be keeping an eye on him together, right? The place I’m thinking of is isolated so...”

“IT’S SETTLED THEN.” he finally dismissed his weapon, and Molt felt the tendrils on his back slowly lower. “SO THEN, NEW FRIEND, WHAT DO YOU SAY TO A TRUCE? WILL YOU COME WITH US?”

He gauged their intent for a moment. Rem had sometimes remarked that his empathy made him gullible. But Molt was tired, and sore, and aching. The others weren’t here. And he let them make decisions for him too much anyway. He hated to admit it but Nightmare was right. Dream wasn’t a physical threat to him. He was scared and trying so hard to be brave, and Molt was trying equally hard not to feel rattled.

“Okay,” he said.

Blue made a noise, something between acknowledgment and mild confusion. Dream offered a strained smile. He supposed they had a lot of questions.

[crevicedwelling]

while I’m messing around with the amblypygi, I’d like to introduce the final (hopefully) version of my cereal-box enclosure. I’d built this last year but hot glue didn’t hold well, and I only got around to getting aquarium silicone recently.

amblypygi are climbing animals that live their lives on near-vertical surfaces, and need a lot of flat surface area to skitter around on. this means a tall, rather than wide, enclosure is best for them, and these cereal boxes work very well! I’ve adhered a sheet of cork tile to the background w/ silicone as a climbing wall, and a long piece of bark gives amblys an overhang to molt from, a crucial aspect of an enclosure.

Marco will be the proud inhabitant of this in a day or so after it settles together. he looks eager to get his new place (he does not. he does not change expression ever)

[skeletinmoss]

Ruffled feathers

Chapter 2: The avian's nest

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Ships planned: Prinxiety, Logicality, Dukeciet

Patton and Virgil are brothers in this one

Thanks @lovelivingmydreams for being my beta

Virgil wasn't sick for too long. And after speaking with Emile he was much easier to deal with. He still hissed at anyone who got close to him though, even his brother. He hated being vulnerable and certainly didn't want to be treated like a baby.

« Being sick sucks,» he decided observing his brother's work from the height of the tree.

« Is that so? You must be glad it's over then,» Patton briefly looked up from his creation and quickly returned to gathering. It didn't look like much yet, but it began to look like a circle. Virgil huffed from his observation point.

« Are you making a nest?» he asked confused. « You think it's safe enough here?» he already knew the humans were going to freak out about it.

Avians made nests for two reasons: they either felt really safe or really stressed. In particularly bad situations avians made so-called panic nests. It was usually a couple of twigs and leaves, or, as they both did, from anything they found at hand (one time Patton made it out of cutlery). Panic nests looked rightfully awful and the word 'nest' mostly meant it was kinda circular pile of things.

What Patton was making looked nothing like that. It was going to be a proper nest about two meters wide judging by the lines Pat drew on the floor. This meant he wanted to make this his sleeping place. And he even did it in the open where everyone else could see.

« It's mostly so we can get more comfortable,» he blushed looking for the sticks he could use. His brother growled in disapproval, « You don't even have anything soft for it.»

« Yes, I do! I have moss!» he pointed at the floor, «And our wings will start to molt soon.»

« Eh. A so-so nest. Not sleeping in the mossy bed,» Virgil hopped on the ground and strolled past the construction.

« You sleep on the floor!» Patton argued.

« Yeah. And that's why I'm not making a bed out of it,» bit the black avian before disappearing behind the door.

Bathroom was Virgil's favorite place. It was warm and shiny. And oh boy did he love the shiny stuff! He made a mental note if ever going to build a nest he will steal that bigass mirror.

He started at it for a minute. There was a scar on his nose left from a muzzle, two more on his hands from the handcuffs and one on his neck from the electric collar. They looked kind of badass, but held dark memories. He looked skinny, but not as bad as before. A proper feeding could do wonders, and he hoped that he could get his muscles back too. He was sick of being weak.

He took off the hoodie, struggling a bit to get it off the wings. Pants went down next, and he plopped into the warm water face first. Wings, still dry, held him him on the surface of the water as he did little to no movement, drifting in the middle of the pool. He tilted his head just enough for him to breathe and relaxed.

It looked like a corpse. And it scared Roman half to death. He sprinted out of the door, through the hallway, past the confused Logan, past the not so confused Janus, into the enclosure and into the bathroom. But before he could pick the body up, it moved disturbed by the sound of splashing water. He did however drag the avian out of the water.

The rescued was not pleased with it and declared so with a strong bite. Roman however was reliеved, « You can't just drown yourself!»

Moody stuck his tongue out.

Roman frowned at his bratty patient. «You looked dead! Did you think that wouldn’t make us worried?»

The avian seemingly tasted the thought. He grabbed Roman by his shirt and walked back in the water, not even bothering to hide his naked body with his wings. He once again settled on the water's surface. His wings were now wet because of him jolting from Roman's touch, so he sank deeper than before. But his head was still afloat and Roman calmed down after he realized it was simply the way he relaxed. Moody squinted his eyes from the comfortable warmth and purred quietly.

« You're an absolute nightmare,» the rescuer huffed dramatically. He observed the avian a little intrigued. It's been a while since he was this close to him. Moody hadn't allowed himself to relax near anyone other than his brother and now he was swimming near him seemingly unbothered.

« Your wings look better,» Roman couldn't help himself but to comment. To his delight the avian in question blushed and started daggers at him. « What? It's true! We definitely need to thank our fawn friend for that thing he gave you,» he declared.

The actor pushed himself out of the water and sat on the edge. His clothes were soaking wet now, but it wasn't something that bothered him at the moment. He couldn't take his eyes of the beautiful feathers. Now looking at them he noticed how wobbly they looked. It wasn't just because of the water, they looked more messy when they should be. They were ungroomed. It would have been understandable if Moody was on his own, but he had a brother. Didn't they groom each other?

Now thinking about it he remembered what Logan told him. Right… Patton didn't have any claws, and his brother simply couldn't reach his back to do it on his own.

« Can I touch them?» he asked finally.

A hiss was the obvious answer.

« I can groom them, you know,» he tried to justify. There was a hesitation before the next hiss, a true master of pretending to not understand the language. Now Dark and Stormy moved further from Roman not quite interested in letting an untrusted creature near his wings. It made Roman frown.

He wasn't frustrated, no. He was angry actually, but not at the avian. Each time he tried to help, Virgil would hiss and try to get away. And it was all because of how he was treated before. It was infuriating! Who can do something bad to a creature this beautiful?! Or any other creature for that matter, not just the beautiful ones. It was so wrong and inhumane!

« I will make friends with you,» Roman half jokingly threatened, and had to go after another loud hiss.

Later, when Virgil finished his bath, he went out to now three people working on the nest. There was a couple of boxes with some soft materials like animal undercoat, feathers and cotton fiber. Patton was currently looking through the box with twigs, Logan helped making the base of the nest and Princey was mostly being a hype man and helping them both. Still in semi wet clothes.

« I told you I got soft stuff for it,» Virgil's brother pointed out smugly.

The black one huffed at that. « You mean THEY got it,» he argued.

Patton's wings shot up flustered, nearly hitting the nerd in the face. His darkwinged brother smirked and stuck out his tongue. There was a moment of silence between them until Patton stood up. Another moment. And then suddenly they both ran: Virgil for the trees and Patton after Virgil.

« Come here, you smart butt!» yelled Pat trying to catch his brother who climbed away as fast as he could giggling to himself.

Eventually they both reached the top and Virgil didn't have anywhere else to run. « No, stop! I'm sorry!» he laughed as his brother got him in a head lock and started to ruffle his hair.

The humans watched it with amazement. It was nice seeing the avians coming back to life. They probably didn't have much opportunities to have fun and banter like that in captivity. To think only two weeks prior they hadn't even talked in front of anyone.

« They are nice,» Patton said more quietly, releasing his brother from his hold. « Don't you want to talk to them?» he wondered.

Virgil took his time to respond, « What if they are still hiding something? Princey absolutely hates me. We're clearly doing something to upset them.»

« I don't think they are upset,» Patton replied. « Not at us at least. They give us nice food and we can move how much we want, they take care of us,» he brushed Virgil's hair.

Storm cloud sight and hugged his legs. « You can talk if you want to,» he relented. The smile on his brother's face lit up his soul.

« I'll ask them if we can go outside!» Patton suggested.

V shook his head at the helpless optimism. « Don't get your hopes up,» he warned, but Patton was already on his way down.

« Can we go outside?» this was the first official thing any of the avians said to their saviors in the human language. The conversation before it was short, but the older brother clearly allowed for it to happen. The whole team should have discussed this and given an answer later with all of the details figured out. But looking in those innocent blue eyes all Logan could say was « Yes, of course.»

Both birds got a little surprised at the answer.

« R-right now? Can we do that right now?» Patton's wings folded behind his back in anticipation. He tried to make himself presentable and obedient as if a little walk outside should be earned.

« If you won't fly away I don't see any reasons not letting you. Clear air is good for health, as people say. And our goal is your recovery.» Logan allowed and Prince nodded.

They should have discussed this with the team first. They should have predicted that something like this would happen.

Virgil tried to fly.

And he fell, of course. They couldn't have reacted in time. The avians were just walking and enjoying the grass and the trees, and the wind outside when the Black one suddenly started to climb higher with a surprising speed. His wings unfolded to their full size and a moment later he was in the air.

The landing was not as rough as it could have been if one of the humans just jumped of a tree. Wings still allowed for some gliding. But it was heartbreaking. Very heartbreaking. And Virgil showed just how much with the enraged scream that left him.

His brother slowly went up to him and hugged him.

They stayed like that for a while before going back into the enclosure.

Tag list: @aphandgflover @yourdragonwitchroyalty @warcats-cat @aevhee

Let me know if you want to be in the tags. Preferrebly in the post

[chaoticace2005]

About Angel and spiders

Did you know that some jumping spiders eat other spiders? Not during mating ( though that one raises a question whether or not Angel's preference of bottoming can be analogous to female spiders, aka "dance and give me gifts or I'll eat you"). Portia spiders hunt other spiders, often by pretending to be caught and trashing in the webs to lure the web owner out. Oh, they also follow laser dots like cats do, and have really fast-acting venom because they don't restrain their prey with webs

I HAD A WHOLE THING TYPED OUT AND NOW ITS GONE 😭

Okay, retyping: I knew about the venom being used to paralyze prey since they don’t rely on webs to capture them, instead using more of their jumping. I did NOT know about them eating other spiders! And the way you described the portia reminds me of a damsel in distress rouse, which is something I can definitely see Angel doing 😂

Also the laser dot this is so interesting! And now I need to think of a situation with him and Husk where that could come out.

Some other jumping spider (and general spider) things I’ve found too

-Jumping spiders sleep by hanging on a single thread

-Jumping spiders can jump up to 40x their body length, and attach silk before jumping or a surface to act as a precaution and/or break

-Spiders don’t have vocal cords, but instead produce sounds by interacting/vibrating other objects

-Spiders can regenerate legs (often lost in molting), pedipalps (pincher looking things), mouthpieces, and silk spinners

-Fur holds air, allowing them to have an additional temporary air supply when underwater

-Can essentially use silk as a parachute, “ballooning”

-Grip walls using hair on feet, which have grip strength up to over a 100x body weight

-Sensitive to infrared radiation and low frequency (80-400 hz) sounds

-Mentioned in previous post but they lack noses, tongues, and ears , instead perceiving that stuff though chemoreceptors (smell/taste) and hair cells (hearing) on legs

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Insomnia and allergies are killing me (they aren’t anymore cause i wrote this part a week ago) so prepare for a bunch of Angel Dust facts that no one needs to know about and Vivziepop will probably end up ignoring!

Some of these are headcanons and some of these are canon facts so they will be colourcoded as such! Headcanons will be blue and canon facts will be red. Anything that relates to real spiders will be listed with a 🕷️! Some of these will also get a little doodle from me

Much like an average spider, Angel can feel and sense when storms are coming. These freak him out and will make him curl up on the ground.🕷️

Angel is sensitive to vibrations and especially sensitive to stronger ones like lightning and earthquakes. (Hell does not have earthquakes.) Stronger ones make him paranoid and nauseous from his organs moving around.🕷️

He definitely needs glasses to see far away but doesn’t bother since it hardly becomes an issue in daily life.🕷️

Jumping spiders change how they see btw! Less light = more detail, More detail = less light.

Vision Examples:

He can also see behind him but I don’t have that angle so this is the best you get

Sleeps curled up.🕷️

Also follows lasers! Not in the same way a cat would, but any interesting movement in his peripheral vision will cause him to turn toward it to see it better.🕷️

Can see ultraviolet light.🕷️

Has a tree nut allergy (Hazelnuts and walnuts. He is unfortunately a very big hazelnut fan.)

Dresses up Fat Nuggets on Halloween. And basically every other day. Seems to have a preference for the witch hat

Owns a skateboard??

Why do his eyes glow pink why can he do that on command

Can dialate his pupils at will I guess

Molts. Basically like shedding but if you also had to scrub a chunk of your skin off. Lasts 1-2 days.🕷️

Very often used to say slurs without knowing they were slurs and probably still does sometimes

Currently still under the impression his sister is alive. She also probably found him after he overdosed.

Struggles to keep track of time

No idea what half the letters in LGBTQIA+ mean

Recently learned what a pride flag is

Angel has small retractable hooks/claws inside his palm that he can use to hold onto surfaces.🕷️

Angel hates people crying around or on him and will push them away or distance himself.

Examples:

Angel is very skittish around fire even though it cannot hurt him.

Hates the smell of citrus fruits.🕷️

Angel has two fangs (primary for injecting and liquifying food) on the roof of his mouth, much sharper papillae in the back of his throat and a second set of venomous fangs near the deeper in his throat that are to inject larger food and paralyze it but there is the rare occasion where the fangs stab his own throat and he collapses for a few hours after getting the fangs unstuck and he just lays there until it wears off and it kind of looks like he's dead cause there’s probably blood in his mouth but hes fine /hj🕷️

This is more of a food safety precaution. If he ate something live he would inject it with venom if it wasn’t dead yet, but he does not do this so these fangs are basically pointless and he might as well just get them removed at this point

Angel DOES have lungs! I know this seems like a very basic fact but some spiders have book lungs! Different from ours they don’t breathe the same way we do, just like how spiders don’t have blood like humans. This is me being a nerd, but we have seen that Angel has mentioned his lung capacity and he has the ability to cough as seen in Episode 5 (I think its 5 dont quote me on that) This means he cannot have book lungs since if he did he would not be able to cough, nor would he be able to sneeze or hiccup.🕷️

Angel is likely right handed in his top pair of hands, left handed or ambidextrous in his middle pair, and as for the bottom it seems like either ambidextrous or he just doesn’t like to use them for actions at all.

This is like half headcanon but also I pay way more attention to this shit than Viv does so Im basically right all the time

It doesn’t get super cold in hell Id assume, but on the rare occasion it gets colder or the AC in the hotel is on really high that is one of the few times Angel will use webbing and will wrap himself in it and crawl under a blanket and stay there. If it’s really cold or he plans on being in a cold area for maybe a week or month or so he might go into diapause to conserve energy, warmth, and food. (This can also happen when he has sudden sharp changes in diet and during daylight savings)🕷️

This will be updated again I can feel it in my bones. Hopefully this can satiate you all while I move house 🫶

[sonicasura]

Biological Complications of Being A Kaiju

Here we are with my personal thoughts on the possible biological changes done to Kaiju No. 8's Kafka Hibino. I will be talking about different biology such as reproductive amongst others things. Fair warning that shit will get weird. (Nothing is sacred with kaiju.) Now let's get started.

Kafka's kaiju form has traits seen from various different animals mainly reptiles and sharks. His hide acts closer to that of the Nurse Shark with some traits of marine iguanas alongside poisonous frogs. Thanks to this, he can secrete substances like poison or liquid waste from his entire body. (Kafka doesn't fully know this because otherwise the man would never use his nips like THAT again.)

Similar to Marine Iguanas, his kaiju side is an very adept swimmer. Kafka's average speed can be clocked around 80mph in water but he could go even faster by manifesting a tail and webbing his hands/feet. The awkward shape of his neck conceals special gils that filters out water or harmful gases.

Kafka is cold blooded to a degree. He prefers seeking out warmth by sunbathing but it'll take constant extreme cold to make him hibernate. Attempts to force him into such a state will result in his kaiju side growing thick fur similar to polar bears as a defense mechanism. This coat being shed off over the course of Spring and regrown during the fall.

Kafka's body will adapt under extremely stressful situations. These particular changes can be difficult to near impossible for him to will away as they were done by Tiny(Mosquito Kaiju). Pecking order involving alterations to their kaiju form: Tiny, Kafka, Ai.

Fangs are very similar to that of any shark. Should Kafka lose any then new ones normally grow in after two minutes. His jaw strengthens matches that of an alligator mixed with a snapping turtle. Unless Kafka lets go then breaking his teeth is the only way to free oneself. Although the fangs will be embedded in his victim as a way to cripple them.

Kafka has a tendency to shed his scales from time to time. A normal process as its a way for his body to naturally dispose of the dead ones. Losing large patches occurs from either sickness or bi-annual molting.

Similar to a lizard, Kafka can climb and hang on different surfaces. His claws are perfect to retain his grip should the climbing target be slippery or someone tries to pull him off. If push comes to shove, one adaptation Kafka can use is camouflage similar to a chameleon.

*Reproductive Section is here. You can skip this as nothing new is past it.*

Reproductive organs are still present even in kaiju form. Similar to a lizard, Kafka's genitals are hidden behind a cloaca for protection. His kaiju form comes with both sets of reproductive organs i.e male and female.

The species are highly adaptive when it comes to keeping their population numbers stable. Kafka wasn't exactly happy to learn about this change. Especially since most kaiju are the egg laying type, his included.

Should conception occur then at least 3-5 eggs are laid after 3 weeks. During that time period, Kafka will eat twice his body weight and be quite aggressive around unfamiliar faces. A nest is also made from various bedding materials like pillows, blankets, to even mattresses.

Eggs will hatch in the span of 4-7 weeks. Newborn hatchlings are the size of kittens and have small fangs as they only feed on meat or fish at this age. They age at the same rate humans do thus reach full maturity in around 20 years. All of them will have a human form and obtain it at the 4-5 year mark.

Similar to a possum, Kafka will carry any whelp he has on his back. His instincts make it difficult for him to leave them alone for too long until they are at least 3 months old. It'll take some heavy persuasion from anyone close to Kafka to have someone babysit for him during that time period.

Experimenting with Kaiju biology is quite the acid trip, huh?