#nest dwellers☆

[cityandking]

actually thinking about dai with a little eared nightjar daemon. kinda daichicore tbh

#points: ground-dwellers (i.e. close to the earth; don't nest in trees) who are awk/clumsy walking around #but also known to be very graceful in flight #most active dusk/dawn; good nighttime vision (darkvision and drow ancestry) #small broods (only lay 1 or 2 eggs) but both parents nest #funky lil squished faces and coloring that really matches his vibe #only thing is that they're nocturnal which Isn't super daichicore but. eh #tbh I'm getting more and more into him having a daemon that Isn't traditionally associated with combat or war. he's just a little guy. #idk. things to think about #.daemon from the greek

[roachshowstheirlimbi]

hai!!! Limbi blog, because i have some silly billies to show and my friends are tired of me talking about limbi. blog is run by roachie ^_^ (hy/hyr) i don't know that much about them, totes not a professional- i will very much appreciate anybody offering advice when i need it.

my limbi: Rat - hole-in-the-man yi sang limbi - devious muncher Demetrius - Dongrang limbi - i can't get him away from the boxes after groceries Rhodes - Ardor blossom Ishmael - kept scratching on my doors and windows

tags: #limbireal (pictures of my limbi) #roachieramble (i just talk)

#limbicompanius #hehehe ^_^ #limbiverse #K corp nest dweller cry about it

[wraithlafitte]

bitchin'

pairing: dean winchester x reader

CONTENT: violence (hunting), SMUT, only one bed~ enemies to lovers (kinda), unprotected p in v (encase before you embrace), hate sex, Dean calls reader "princess" mockingly, manhandling, slapping, spanking, big dick!Dean has all the audacity, dirty talk, degradation, choking, cum eating, brat taming, edging, overstimulation, squirting

word count: 4.7k

To say you were unhappy to be working with Dean Winchester would be putting it lightly. A massive understatement, in fact. But, as luck would have it, you needed backup on a vamp case; and when you called Bobby Singer for help, it turned out that Dean was the only hunter nearby.

Your jaw set uncomfortably as you dialed his number and held the phone to your ear. Asking for help from anyone was hard, but from this man? Practically your mortal enemy? A feeling of shame, or maybe embarrassment, crept into your stomach as you listened to the phone ring.

He's probably just watching it ring, you thought cynically. Who's to say he would pick up at all? Maybe he won't, you hoped.

There was a laundry list of reasons why Dean was the last person you'd want to work with on a case. He was reckless, had no respect for plans, and tended to go in guns blazing without regard for his own life, which meant that you would constantly be saving his ass. And boy, was he a pain in yours.

The cherry on top of the Dean Winchester disaster cake was that he hated your guts. You never really figured out why, but you assumed it was his misogynistic tendency to be completely contrary to any woman he met who didn't fall all over him. God forbid a woman doesn't care about his rugged good looks or roguish bravery!

When he finally picked up, you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, dripping with self-righteousness. "Well, well. What do you want?"

You decided it would be best to cut to the chase and just get it over with. "I'm working a case in Nevada," you said calmly. He would not get you riled up. "Vegas. There's a vamp nest, been snatching homeless people. Tunnel dwellers," you added. "Not that it matters. People are people, vamps are vamps."

"What are you tellin' me for?" Dean asked gruffly. He was gonna make you say it. Of fucking course he was, because he just had to hold it over your head.

"Need backup," you said curtly. "There's at least five of them."

"So what you're sayin' is...." The smugness in his voice was unmistakeable.

"I need your help, you dick."

"Oh do you now."

You huffed, already fed up with him. "Bobby says you're the only hunter he knows nearby. Said you're in Flagstaff."

"Maybe I am," he said vaguely. "Bobby should know not to tell you anything about where I am or recommend me as reinforcements for you."

"He didn't want to, but I made him. Are you coming or not?" you said sharply.

I'll be there by nightfall. Don't wait up," he said teasingly and hung up, leaving you to listen to the tone, steaming.

Why does he have to make everything so difficult?

Rough pounding on the door of your motel room startled you up from your chair at midnight. Dean wasn't even in the room yet, and he was already tormenting you. You went to the door and jerked it open, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel the headache coming on.

"Honey, I'm home," Dean said wickedly. He pushed past you into the room, dropping his duffel bags in the middle of the floor. He dropped into the chair you had just vacated and looked up at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," you warned him, eyes narrowing.

"Hey, I'm just excited to kill some vamps," he said, jabbing a finger towards you.

"Give it up. We both know you would rather be anywhere else."

"True," he conceded. "But let me just bask in the moment real quick."

You roll your eyes and return to your task, packing up your stuff. "Don't get too comfortable. We can't stay here. I was followed earlier."

"Perfect," Dean said sarcastically. "Of course you were."

You turn on him. "It can happen to anyone."

"Sure," he mocked. "So what's the plan, genius?"

Your face hardened. "We take the fight to them."

"Say no more."

The vampire's nest was in an abandoned warehouse (real original) that was a few streets away from one of the tunnels that the homeless had set up camp in. Chain link fence, corrugated metal, broken windows, the whole deal. And of course Dean wouldn't wait to make a game plan, sliding open a side door like nothing bad was waiting to jump him. In a vampire nest. At night.

All you could do was follow him, machete at the ready, and hope that the scuffing of his boots on the concrete floor wouldn't alert any vampires to your presence.

Dean ducked down, holding a fist in the air. You hurried behind him and crouched behind a shelf just in time to miss a patrolling vampire rounding the corner. Without missing a beat, Dean jumped out behind it and chopped it at the neck soundlessly. The body fell to the floor. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good.

You crept in the direction the fang had come from, Dean hot on your heels. He was so close you could hear his leather jacket creaking, smell his cologne, feel him practically breathing down your neck. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, then suddenly you hear voices. You stopped abruptly in your tracks, causing Dean to bump into you. You elbowed him and gave him a look.

Peeking around the doorframe, you saw what appeared to be the vamps' main hangout room. And there were a lot more than five of them, lounging around the walls, circling victims that were hung by their wrists from a beam.

"We can take them," Dean whispered in your ear.

You looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" you hissed back. You tried to count the dark shapes in the next room. "There's at least ten in there. There's only two of us."

"We can do it." Without waiting for a reply, Dean busted down the door and started swinging. You had no choice but to follow as the vampires started coming out of their startled stupor and attacking.

Dean cut down two of them easily, their heads rolling on the floor before they knew what hit them. The rest, however, had time to react.

One of the vampires rushed you, just managing to avoid your blade as you swung it. She snarled and leapt towards you. You slashed her across the chest and she howled, clutching her shirt. You took the opportunity and decapitated her.

Someone grabbed you from behind, claw-like nails scratching your neck as it was forced to the side, baring your skin. You stabbed behind you, blade finding purchase, and used the distraction to cut off the fang's head.

Another vamp rushed you from the front. You swung your blade out in defense, but he just grabbed it and ripped it from your hand. Then, as if they could smell your defenselessness, you were suddenly swarmed, vampires clawing at your skin, your clothes, pulling your hair. Several hard punches landed to your gut and your face and the wind was knocked out of you as you fell to the floor, smacking the side of your head into the concrete. You yelped in pain and shock.

A boot pressed into the side of your neck and your vision was suddenly obscured by a heavy-set vampire bearing down on you, grinning. "Not so tough now without your little sword," he sneered, fangs descending. His mouth was smeared with blood and you could smell the tang of iron on his breath. You struggled to breathe as the pressure on your neck increased, your vision getting spotty.

Great, this is how I die....

As if in the distance, you heard Dean shout. The looming face of the vamp was promptly detached from its body, hitting the floor by your head. His body fell on top of yours, his gross bloody neck stump right in your view. The boot left your neck and charged in the direction of Dean's voice.

You struggled to free yourself from beneath the former vamp, ears ringing from your near-suffocation. You could hear the ensuing scuffle, all grunts and wet slices and heavy footfalls, but you had no idea who was winning.

Then, it was silent.

You held your breath instinctively, listening to a lone pair of footsteps approaching you. You found yourself realizing for the first time that you hoped Dean was coming. Better than the alternative.

Sure enough, Dean's hunt-beaten face appeared above you, screwed up with effort as he pushed the large vamp's body off of you. You sat up quickly, surveying the carnage, slapping away the extended helping hand. The shock of your near death experience wore off quickly, but the adrenaline from the fight did not, so your energy turned towards Dean.

"What the fuck, Dean?" you yelled, rising to your feet, wincing from the pain in your sides.

"What do you mean what the fuck?" he returned angrily. "I just saved your goddamn life!"

"After you endangered it!" you shoved him, scowling furiously. "Ten to two are not good odds! We could have fucking died! I almost did!"

"Hazards of the job, sweetheart!"

"There's hazards, and then there's suicide," you replied, fuming.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't have to thank me."

"I won't." You shoved him out of your way and made for the door. "Don't you ever fucking do that again."

"Not so fast, princess," Dean called after you. "Hunt's not over."

You froze in your tracks. "What."

"I didn't get all of 'em." You whirled around to face Dean, who was looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Your voice was dangerously quiet. "What do you mean you didn't get all of them?"

He made an attempt at a self-confident grin. "They saw me ganking their buddies like nobody's business, turned tail and ran. I was more concerned about saving your life than to chase."

You smirked tauntingly. "Oh, you cared about my life?"

Dean just shrugged. "Couldn't just leave you there."

"Whatever." You started walking to the entrance again. "Since you let some get away, I say we get a night's sleep. They'll probably be expecting us to come after them, so they won't hunt again tonight. We can pick up the trail in the morning."

"What do you mean you only have one room left?" Dean asked angrily, slamming his hands down on the motel counter.

The clerk looked at him blankly. "Just what I said."

You were at the cheapest motel you could find in the city that was built on tourism. You and Dean were both short on cash, so it seemed like the best option. It was this or take shelter with the junkies in the tunnels.

"I'm not spending the night in the same room as her!"

You hit his shoulder. "Hey!"

"Like you don't feel the same," Dean said exasperatedly, digging out his wallet. "Next cheapest is still too expensive. I'm basically broke," he whined, rifling through his meager collection of bills.

"What happened to all your credit cards, Mr. Fraud?" you sneered.

Dean glared at you. You glared back. After a few moments, the clerk cleared his throat.

"So, do you want the room or not?"

You dropped your bags just inside the door of the room. "You're fucking kidding me."

Dean pushed past you. "What- oh. Oh my goddd." He ran his hand down his face tiredly.

Staring you in the face was the decidedly lumpy surface of a double bed. One. That fucking clerk could've warned you.

You and Dean slowly looked at each other, then you made a mad dash to claim the bed, shoving each other out of the way, kicking, tackling, until you both lay tangled on the floor, still not in the bed. You had his arm pinned behind his back, but he was pinning you to the floor with his weight.

You jerked on his arm, panting, and he grunted painfully, digging his knee into your side.

"Say.. uncle," you gritted out.

"You first!" Dean rasped.

"No!"

You laid there for a few more seconds, then, almost as if it was painful, Dean asked, "Should we- call it a draw?"

You rolled your eyes and released him. He rolled off of you, getting to his feet. He didn't help you up, of course.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said spitefully.

"Well, neither am I." Your eyes narrowed.

You laid on the bed stiffly, positioned all the way at the edge of the mattress, as far away from Dean as possible. He was doing the same, and the blanket was pulled taut between you as you wordlessly battled over it.

You were steaming. You should have known that everything would go to shit if you called on him. He completely ruined what should have been a one-hour job, endangering your life and letting a few vamps go. He did, technically, save your life though. You were grateful, but you wouldn't tell him that in a million years.

Adrenaline from the hunt and your constant fighting with Dean coursed through your veins, keeping every sense on high alert. Every tug of the sheets from Dean lit a fire under your skin. His weight behind you on the bed filled you with a painful awareness of how touch-starved you truly were. As much as you tried to suppress it, tension began building in your core.

You shifted uncomfortably, squeezing your thighs together. "Ugh," you let out before you could stop yourself.

"Shut up," Dean grumbled through the darkness.

The sound of his voice, rough with tiredness, intensified how extremely horny you felt. You felt your underwear getting damp in spite of your hate for the man.

"God dammit," you said frustratedly, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

"What?" Dean said, throwing the covers back and sitting up too. "Why can't you just let me fucking sleep?"

"Nothing," you snapped, taking a swig from your water bottle. Hydrating would calm you down, surely.

"Yeah, right," he snapped back. "What the fuck is wrong?"

"I'm really fucking horny, Christ!" you blurt, whirling on him.

"If I fuck you, will you stop bitchin'?" Dean demanded, fire and a deadly seriousness in his eyes.

You opened and closed your mouth, stunned.

He just smirked at you. "Is that what it takes to shut you up?"

You stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"You want me so bad, huh." He moved across the bed and settled right behind you, his face in your neck, inches away from your own.

"Shut up," you say, flustered, still trying to keep some semblance of control. But you couldn't deny the arousal pooling in your gut.

"Say the word," Dean said smoothly, breath fanning over your exposed shoulder.

"Fuck," you whispered, cursing what you're about to do. You turned your head and smashed your lips to his.

Dean responded immediately, pulling you backwards and into his lap. He bit at your lips, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. You made an indignant sound, battling him for dominance, teeth clashing in a messy display of pure desire.

Your lips only parted to rip off each other's shirts. You dug your fingernails into Dean's bare shoulders as hard as you could, trying to elicit some kind of reaction from him, which came in the form of a deep groan into your mouth. He broke away, panting, and flung you onto your back on the mattress.

Leering down at you, he placed himself between your legs. "That's how you wanna play, huh princess?"

He yanked your leg up by the knee and slapped the back of your thigh. An involuntary moan escaped your mouth, and Dean chuckled darkly. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

"Just shut up and fuck me," you whined, hitting his side with your foot.

"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Bad girls don't get what they want."

You sat up and came nose to nose with him. "If you think for one second that I am going to sit here and play submissive for you-"

Dean laced his fingers through the back of your hair and sharply tugged your head back. You moaned in response. A smile slowly grew over his face and he let go abruptly and shoved you back down. Your back barely hit the mattress before he was yanking off your sleep shorts and underwear in one go, tossing them to the far reaches of the room. You gasped as the cool air from the room hit your core, driving home the fact that you were now completely exposed to him.

"Aw, already so wet for me," Dean jeered, running a finger up your slit roughly. You flinched away from the sudden contact, heat spreading to your face.

"Don't flatter yourself," you gasped as he shoved a finger inside you, curling it vigorously, relishing the wet sounds your pussy produced.

Dean palmed himself through his pajama pants, groaning. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he added a second finger inside you, scissoring you open. At least he has the decency to prepare me, you thought.

He yanked his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a quick slap, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling.

"Don't whine," Dean said roughly, getting off the bed and kicking off his pants and boxers. You looked down, unable to help yourself.

You saw where he got all his confidence from. He was big. You practically quivered with anticipation. You loved a good stretch, and you liked it rough, and this was about to be both.

"Like what you see?" Dean mocked, shaking his cock.

"Looks like maybe your confidence isn't completely unwarranted," you admitted dryly. You could feel your combative spirit giving way to lust, but you weren't giving up that easily.

He winked, grabbed your ankles and jerked you to the edge of the bed, your thighs around his waist, your hair fanned out on the blanket behind your head. Dean took hold of your calves and pressed your knees up by your face, leaning over you and pinning you down with his weight again. Only this time, it was way hotter.

"Gonna be good for me?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"In your fucking dreams," you spat.

In one fluid motion, he backed off of you, grabbed you by the waist, and spun you onto your stomach. You squeaked as a heavy hand landed on your ass, much harder than he hit before.

You used your feet, barely touching the floor, to push yourself back towards him, hoping he would get the point and just fuck you already without you having to ask him again.

"So fucking needy," he murmured in your ear. "Use your words, princess."

"Fuck you," you moaned, feeling his cock jerk against your leg.

"Mmm, that's not right," Dean warned, fingers digging into your hips.

You grit your teeth. "Fuck me."

Dean splayed his fingers over your ass cheeks, spreading you open for him, and thrust into you roughly, filling you in one go.

You gasped, feeling his cock throb inside you as your pussy complained against the intrusion and desperately tried to adjust to his size. He groaned as you clenched around him, pulling out slowly and slamming back in.

"Dean," you gasped out. "Don't be such a fucking tease."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want, princess," Dean growled, his thrusts becoming faster. "You asked for this."

"Technically- you offered," you corrected, eyes screwing shut at the pleasure building inside you with each thrust.

"God, shut- up," Dean griped, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that hit just right, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from you.

He just grunted, hips colliding against you, now just chasing his own high. You pressed your face into the bed, clutching the blanket with both fists, fortifying yourself against Dean's relentless pace. His fingers pressed deeply into your hips, carving out a place for him, letting you know you wouldn't be coming away from this encounter unbruised.

"God, you're so fucking tight," Dean rasped, slapping your ass. You moaned in response, unable to think of a witty retort. "Bet it's been a long time since you were fucked, huh?"

When you didn't reply, he slapped your ass again, on the other side, sending fireworks through your core.

"Bet that's why you're so desperate for me," he groaned. "Haven't gotten laid in a while. Bet that's why you're such a bitch, too," he added snarkily.

"Oh, fuck off," you mumbled into the mattress.

Dean pulled out, much to your chagrin, turning you onto your back again. "If you want," he said, eyes glimmering with mischief.

You pouted and whined, hooking your feet around his waist and trying to pull him back. You were rewarded with a sharp slap to your pussy. You cried out from the stimulation.

"Don't whine," he growled, pushing into you again on the last word.

"Sorry," you whispered in spite of yourself, gripping onto his arms as he cages you in with his body.

"What was that?" Dean said, grinning wickedly and thrusting into you sharply.

"Fuck-" you moaned instead, refusing to cooperate.

He wraps his hand around your throat loosely, putting slight pressure just under your jaw. Your eyes widened as he slowly increased the pressure, jeering down at you, still slamming into you at an incredible pace. Your body started to become overwhelmed with all the sensory input and your core tightened.

You knew Dean felt it, because he grimaced. "Gonna come, you little slut?" he taunted, reaching down with his free hand to rub harshly at your clit. A low whine released from the back of your throat.

His grip tightened around your neck to see your reaction. You gasped, straining to get a full breath in, your pussy clenching hard around his cock.

"Such a fucking slut that you're gonna come from being choked out," Dean said through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

"Fuck- Dean," you choked out, both hands wrapped around his wrist. He eased up on the pressure some (he didn't want to kill you) and your hands moved desperately up his arm, gripping him tightly.

Dean was getting close, you could tell, but the question remained: would he come before you? And if he did, would he still take care of you? Somehow you doubted it. The self-absorbed jackass was probably going to cum inside you and fall asleep, like almost every other man you'd slept with.

Suddenly Dean lurched forward, shoving his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavily in your ear. You clenched in surprise (and also because a man getting desperate was one of the hottest things on the planet).

Dean groaned deeply in response and bit down on your shoulder, hard. You cried out, half from pain and half from the surprising pleasure it sent roaring through you, causing your cunt to squeeze down on him tightly. He practically whimpered, detaching from your skin and pulling out, pumping himself a few times before spilling onto your stomach with a moan.

He looked down at the mess he'd made of you, dragging his fingers through his cum. Then he brought those fingers up to your mouth and pressed them against your lips. "Open."

You scowled at him, once again determined to be contrary.

Dean glared back. "Open, or you don't get to come," he said harshly, forcing his fingers between your lips and teeth.

So he was planning to take care of you. Your neediness returned in full force, and you opened your mouth to allow him to shove his fingers deep into your mouth. You gagged as his fingertips hit the back of your throat, the taste of his cum filling your mouth. He pressed down on your tongue and you dutifully sucked on his fingers as he smirked down at the sight.

"Good little slut," Dean said nastily, obviously feeling proud of himself. He started to pull his fingers out and you closed your teeth, scraping his skin as he did. He slapped your cheek lazily once his hand was free. "Swallow it."

You glared, but did as you were told, sticking out your tongue to prove it.

Dean grinned. "Ready for your reward, princess?"

You moaned needily, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up towards him.

"Such a fucking whore," he chastised, bringing his hand to your clit and stroking around it lazily. A pang of arousal shot through you as you quickly approached the edge again. All thoughts of defiance went out the window as you grinded against his hand.

"Please," you whimpered, squirming under his touch.

"Since you asked so nicely," Dean mocked. He stuffed your pussy with three fingers at once, thrusting and curling them inside you. "Fuckin' dripping, princess."

He brought his other hand to your clit, thumbing it in figure eights in time with his fingers. You gasped as your core tightened. His fingers were bringing you so close to the brink and just keeping you there, never increasing the pressure just enough to push you over.

"Fuuuck," you moaned, panting. "Please, Dean! I need- I need-"

"You need what?" he teased. He twisted his fingers up to your g-spot, simultaneously ceasing his movements on your clit to press down on it hard.

"Oh, God!" you cried out, almost hyperventilating. The feeling of your orgasm building up was almost too much to bear. A dry sob wracked your body.

Dean nipped at your chest, gazing up at your contorted face with eyes so innocent looking you could've sworn, for a moment, that this was not a man you hated with your entire being, who was not currently doing the most sinful things to you with his hands.

You whimpered pathetically. "Please," you said in a small voice. "I need to come so bad." Your face flushed with shame as you finally admit what he's done to you, both with your words and body.

"All you had to do was ask," Dean said, sickly sweet. His hands sparked into motion again, redoubling their efforts. You let out a strangled scream as you were brought right back to the precipice, only this time, surely, he's going to let you?

It was like a pot boiling over, overwhelming heat spreading from your core out through your stomach, making your legs shake and your abs tighten. You made another strangled, desperate noise as you grinded down on his hand.

"That's it, princess, fuck yourself on my fingers," Dean goaded.

You struggled to catch your breath, eyes wide. Your face was hot and wet, and you realized numbly that tears were streaming down your face, running into your hair. He started to take his hands away, but your hands chased them, seizing them and bringing them back to your core.

Dean seemed surprised, but more than willing to fuck you past the point of no return. "Fuck, you just can't get enough, huh," he said, sounding mildly impressed. Your body shook as he all but stilled his fingers inside you, just rubbing your clit slowly until it became too much to bear and you pushed him off.

You laid there panting quietly, your body shivering from the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you'd had in a while. For once, it seemed like Dean didn't know what to say.

You closed your eyes for a moment, then suddenly felt his hand on your clit again, rubbing vigorously. Your eyes flew open and you looked down to see Dean's face set in determination. You clutched at his wrist, trying weakly to get him away, knees trying to close around him, but it didn't take long for you to cum again with a shriek, heels digging into the mattress to push yourself away. Your cunt pulsed around nothing, and you felt a gush of arousal leave you. Dean looked delighted.

"I fucking knew it," he said triumphantly, holding up his hand to survey the mess.

"What?" you asked feebly as another shiver ran through your body.

"Knew you'd be so touch-starved I could get you to squirt," Dean explained smugly. He licked some of your arousal off his hand.

You threw your head back onto the bed exasperatedly. "God, I hate you."

"Could've fooled me," he returned, displaying his hand to you and smirking.

dividers once again by @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics

#dean winchester’s 45th birthday celebration #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn smut #spn fanfiction #supernatural smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #userwraith

[bethanythebogwitch]

It’s Wet Beast Wednesday and today’s topic is Anarrhicthys ocellaus, the wolf eel. Despite the name and long-skinny body, they aren’t eels (I’ll get around to true eels eventually, I promise), they’re actually one of the wolf fish, a family of 5 species, the rest of which look less eely. These fish are most famous on the internet for being ugly, which is a bit rude. Sure, they may look a bit like Popeye the Sailor Man, but that’s no reason to be insulting. I think they’re kind of cute, in a pug sort of way.

(Image: a wolf eel)

Wolf eels live in cold pacific waters in the Sea of Japan up into the Sea of Okhotsk, across the Aleutian islands, and down to southern California. Their long, slender bodies can grow up to 2.4 meters (about 8 feet) long ang weigh up to 18.4 kg (41 pounds), making them both longer and heavier than some children. Like moray eels, they prefer living in caves and crevices, often only sticking their heads out to look for food. Many will find a suitable cave as a juvenile and never leave unless forced out by a larger wolf eel or another cave-dweller like the giant pacific octopus. Wolf eels have a layer of mucus covering their bodies that helps protect from disease. Their scales are small and imbedded in their skin, giving their skin a leathery appearance. Each individual has a unique pattern of spots on their head, which can be used to identify them.

(Image: a wolf eel)

Wolf eels have large and powerful jaws and well as notable teeth. They are heterodonts, meaning they have teeth of different shapes that serve different functions. This is actually somewhat uncommon amongst animals. Amongst extant vertebrates, only mammals, some fish, and snakes have this feature. Wolf eels have molars and canines. In fact, the prominent canines of the wolf fish family is the origin of their name. Wolf eels use their hard molars and powerful jaws to crush and eat hard food. Their preferred diet includes sea urchins, sand dollars, crustaceans, and bivalves. They rarely eat soft food and aquarium specimens that have been fed soft food extensively can show poor dental health.

(image: a wolf eel monching on eating an urchin)

If you need more reasons to not insult them, wolf eels are romantics and model parents. They are monogamous and mated pairs will live and mate together for life. These pairs have a unique form of mating behavior. The male will nuzzle the female with his head and coil around her while she lays her eggs (up to 10,000 at a time), which he will then fertilize. Afterwards, the female will coil around the eggs to shape them into a ball She will occasionally rotate and massage the egg ball to make sure all the eggs are getting exposed to oxygenated water. When both are in the cave, the female will coil around the eggs to protect them while the male coils around her for more protection. Both parents share egg protecting duties, with only one leaving to go eat at a time. Once the eggs hatch, the larvae will leave the nest and move to the open ocean to grow. Juveniles live in the open ocean and have a different diet than adults. They are more active predators who use their canines to attack and eat small fish and fish larvae. After a few years, they will make their way back to shallower waters to take up their adult lifestyles. They become sexually mature at around 7 years old, though some will par up with their future mate as early as age 4. In addition, juveniles are bright orange with purple spots. They become darker as they age, eventually becoming fully grey.

(image: a pair of wolf eels protecting their eggs, the yellowish ball on the middle)

(image: a juvenila wolf eel)

Wolf eels are rather curious and even playful animals. In places with lots of human activity, they can become used to divers. In fact, they can even become friendly with divers, sometimes coming out to play with them and being happy to receive chin scratches. In many places, divers can hand-feed the wolf eels. This is controversial as it can disincentivize natural hunting behavior and ignorant divers may feed the eels the food that is bad for them. Wolf eels are very rarely aggressive, but they can deliver very painful bites if provoked.

(image: a wolf eel and a diver)

Wolf eels are classified as “least concern” by the IUCN, meaning they are in no danger of extinction. Still, threats to them include bycatch and pollution. They are rarely targeted for fishing today, but in the past, they were targeted by a few Native American tribes. In these, they were considered to be sacred “doctorfish” and were only eaten by healers, in the belief it would enhance their healing abilities.

UPDATE: after doing some digging regarding the usage of the fish by Native American tribes I found that everyone who makes this claim seems to reference the book "Probably More Than You Want to Know About the Fishes of the Pacific Coast" by Milton S. Love, which itself cites a book from either 1868 or 1870 titled "The Indians of Cape Flattery, at the entrance to the Strait of Fuca, Washington Territory" by James Swan. The book specifically discusses the Makah people. I'm a bit skeptical about the source so take those claims with a grain of salt.

(image: a wolf eel sticking out of a rock)

#wet beast wednesday #biology #marine biology #fish #fishblr #animals #zoology #ecology #wolf eel

[uncharismatic-fauna]

The Beautiful Blue Catfish

Blue catfish (Ictalurus furcatus) are members of the bullhead catfish family, native to the drainages of the Mississippi, Missouri, and Ohio river basins and the Gulf of Mexico. Because of their popularity as game fish, this species has also been introduced to freshwater systems throughout North and South America, and is considered invasive in these areas.

Like many catfish, I. furcatus is a bottom dweller. They can often be found near complex structures such as rocky outcroppings, fallen trees, or sunken structures that provide both food and shelter. The blue catfish is an opportunistic predator, consuming any fish or aquatic invertebrates it can find, as well as eggs, small amphibians, and injured or recently deceased animals. Adult I. furcatus are seldom prey for other species due to their size, but hatchlings and juveniles are often food for cormorants, willets, osprey, pelicans, and bald eagles. To deter predators, this species has serrated barbs along their dorsal and pectoral fins, each laced with a particularly painful toxin.

Though they can be difficult prey for other animals, the blue catfish is a popular target for fishermen, and for good reason; they're the largest species of catfish in North America. Adults can easily reach a length of 65 in (170 cm) and a weight of 165 lb (75 kg). As indicated by their name, most individuals are grey or blue, with a lighter underbelly. This species also lacks scales, a common characteristic of catfish, and the face is framed by long whisker-like barbels that help it detect nearby food.

While generally solitary, blue catfish aren't territorial, and tend to ignore each other until the mating season. Reproduction begins in April and continues until June, during which time males attract a female by building a nest and releasing attractive pheromones. Once a female has selected a male, she lays between 4,000-8,000 eggs per kilogram of bodyweight in his nest (i.e. if the female weighs 2 kg, she may lay between 8,000-16,000 eggs). The male then disperses sperm over the eggs. Following fertilization, the male chases away the female and guards the nest for about a week, at which time the eggs hatch. The hatchlings, also known as fry, stay close together in schools for several weeks before growing large enough to disperse. It will take them a further 5 years for them to reach maturity; on average individuals live about 10 years, but can live as long as 25.

Conservation status: The blue catfish is considered Least Concern by the IUCN. Within its native range, populations face minor threats from dams and droughts. Where it has been introduced, the species is considered invasive due to its voracious appetite.

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Photos

Missouri Department of Conservation

NOAA

Earl Nottingham

#blue catfish #Siluriformes #Ictaluridae #ictalurids #catfish #ray finned fish #bony fish #fish #freshwater fauna #freshwater fish #rivers #river fish #lakes #lake fish #north america #southern north america

[ishcliff]

one last thought before bed...

thinking about how heathcliff was almost turned into a gift for the rich nest dwellers in the christmas event – specifically a pocket watch, all but sacred to denizens of district 20 – and how in his backstory, he was presented as a gift to catherine and hindley. and... he was carried inside in a sack.

#canto vi spoilers #lcb heathcliff #limbus company meta

[ericsprincess]

awake I love this

Your hot roommate is a bed dweller.

~~~

“Oh shit- Jesus, you scared me,” you stop in the kitchen doorway, caught off guard by the unexpected presence in the kitchen. It’s 6 a.m. and you just woke up, blearily wandering out of your bedroom to make breakfast and get ready for your shift at work. You’re barely awake and what you didn’t expect was your roommate being already there, making some toast. 

Younghoon, your roommate, standing in the kitchen, was a very unusual sight. Not only the “in the kitchen” part, but also the “standing” one. When you first moved in, you knew your roommate would be a man, and you were quite concerned about what the future cohabitation would look like. You didn’t know him, it was just a friend of a friend who gave you a tip about Younghoon looking for someone to rent his spare bedroom to. Therefore you were afraid about the endless possibilities of how everything could go wrong - he could be too messy, too loud, bring too many people home, or worse, perving on you. But you didn’t really have a choice, so you took the offer and moved in. Thankfully, none of your worries proved to be true - not only Younghoon appeared to be a completely chill guy, but it would be really easy to even forget you live with someone. 

The thing is, your roommate spends way too much time in his bed. First you thought he might be sick, but he didn’t look that way. But save for going to school and occasionally out for either necessary errands or rare outings with friends, he spends all his leisure time in bed. Everytime you feel bored and you go to his room just to chat about anything, he’s under the blankets, either scrolling on his phone or reading, or watching a movie. He plays computer games out of bed too, and you’ve seen him even study while laying down. Thankfully, he seems to be a clean person, so at least you don’t have to worry about him dwelling in some gross nest. It seems to be just an odd quirk of his otherwise normal and nice - as you were pleased to discover - personality. 

He also seems to be quite aware of this and doesn’t seem to care much. When you asked him once, why is he alway in bed, after a few weeks of living together, he just lazily turned his head to you and replied “Because I’m always ready, Y/N” and winked at you. 

So considering all that, you take a little bit of time to admire the rare sight of vertical Younghoon. 

He’s very tall and while he’s kinda skinny, his frame is broad. He’s dressed in black sweatpants and black t-shirt and you think no one should look this good, while spreading some butter on a toast, having just rolled out of bed. 

He looks over his shoulder at you, amused by your outcry. “Good morning Y/N. I’m making breakfast, do you want some? Coffee is over there,” he smiles at you, pointing at the full coffee pot. 

“Yes, please,” you reply, pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit down at the kitchen table, sipping at it and just observing Younghoon going about making more toast. You could really get used to the sight of a hot man making you breakfast every day, you dream a little. 

Speaking of men, you remember something. “By the way,” you say, “I’m going out with friends tonight so, you know..” you’re not sure how to finish the sentence and tell him that you might end up bringing someone home to fuck. But he gets it anyway.  

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’ll have my headphones on, don’t worry,” he teases you and you can feel your face getting red. It’s not that you’re that loud, because you know you’re not. But he might have caught on to it anyways, and you’re not sure how you feel about your nice roommate overhearing you having sex. It feels both embarrassing, but also kind of hot, seeing that he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. Does he perhaps like it? You wonder, but your train of thought gets interrupted by a plate full of toasts set in front of you. Younghoon sits across the table and you spend the morning just chatting about news, until you both realize you have to run to work and school respectively, and the whole topic of overhearing is forgotten. 

~~~

You come home from work and rush straight to your bedroom. You had to stay late at work to finish up something so now your time to get ready for going out is diminished and it’s barely enough to take a shower, throw on the skimpiest dress you own, fix your makeup and be out of the door. 

So you do exactly that. You take a shower and pick a tiny black dress with straps across the back. You know you look good and you want to wear something that gives a clear signal you don’t want to go home alone tonight, but at the same time, you’re not that used to being dressed this provocative and suddenly you feel insecure. You don't have time to take a photo and bother your friends and wait until they reply with their opinions so you take the only other option you have and march straight to Younghoon’s room. 

Thankfully - and as expected - he’s in his bed, just scrolling on his phone. 

“Hey, Hoonie, do you have a minute?” you ask, peeking through the opened door. 

“Yeah, sure, what do you need?” he replies, so you enter the room. 

“Do you think this dress is too much?” you ask. He looks at you, but doesn’t reply. Instead of that he just stares and you can see his eyes following down every part of your body. He’s blatantly checking you out, you realize. 

The awkward silence is getting more awkward by the second, until he just throws off-handedly “Yeah, you can go out like that. You look good,” and turns back to his phone. It feels like a dismissal a little, but you can see his ears are red. 

“Uh…okay thank you, I’ll get going then,” you beep and not waiting for his answer you rush out of his room. What the fuck was that?? Your brain screams, having just experienced this awkward moment, way too charged for how your interactions with your roommate usually went. You put on your heels and off you go. 

~~~

Well, this was a bust, you sigh while tapping code to your apartment door. Not only did you not see a single decently looking guy, but it felt like tonight was the night that every sleazebag in the city decided to crawl out. So you just stuck to your girlfriends, had a few shots and only went dancing together with them. It was fun enough, but the main point of the outing - to find someone to sleep with - completely fell through, so you came back home tipsy, frustrated and kinda horny. 

You don’t feel like sleeping yet so you head over to Younghoon’s room to see if he’s still up and maybe goad him into watching a movie together or something. You knock twice and don’t wait for a reply, just silently open the door in case he’s asleep already. 

But he isn’t. The room is dark and the only light there is coming from his laptop screen on the nightstand. There is some movie playing silently, but it doesn’t seem that he’s watching it. 

You can’t really see it well, but Younghoon’s eyes are closed and he’s squirming and sighing and his hand is moving under the blanket. Is he..masturbating? Is the first thought that comes up in your brain, but it’s just a split second until he notices your presence and sits up a little. “Hey, Y/N, you’re back already? How did it go? You came back alone?” he breathes out, trying to sound normal. 

“Uh yeah…it was tragic,” you reply but you’re not sure what to say next, your brain completely stuck on what you saw earlier and while you’re not drunk, the few shots you drank are suddenly giving you liquid courage to jump the gun. “Actually…Hoonie, remember when I asked you once….” you start. 

“Yeah?” he prompts you.

“Are you still…always ready?” you finish your question and you can see the moment he puts it all together and realizes what you are really asking. 

“Yeah..” he breathes out and you don’t waste a second and come to his bed, throw away his blanket, swing one leg over him and sit down. You can feel his hard cock under you and his hands immediately come up to rest on your hips. You’re looking at each other, both aroused but neither is sure what to do next. 

“S-sit on my face?” he suggests and you smile at him, because this is truly a fantastic idea.

You raise yourself just enough to take off your panties and then you turn and maneuver so that your pussy is hovering over his handsome face. Your dress is so short you don't even have to take it off. He grabs you by your hips and pulls down, so that you’re sitting with almost full weight on his face. But he doesn’t seem to mind, rather the opposite - he moans and gets to work. He eats you out like it’s the best meal he’s ever had, and his tongue seems heavenly and oddly huge, licking over your clit in broad strokes then moving to your dripping hole and pushing inside. His tongue is so big he can kinda fuck you with it and it feels so good you’re not sure how long you will last. You don’t want it to be over so soon, especially since you can see his hard cock tenting his pyjama pants and the size of it is also intriguing. 

“Younghoon, I’m getting close,” you moan and he just responds by flicking over your clit harder, but you’re already stopping him and easing off his face. He whines and tries to pull you back on his face, as if he hadn’t had enough of eating your pussy yet, but you laugh and drop off on the bed next to him. You look at him and he’s so aroused he looks almost feral, with his eyes glossy and the whole bottom part of his face glistening with your pussy juices. 

“Do you have a condom?” you ask and he nods and reaches back to open his nightstand drawer to take out a silver packet. You look at each other. “Always ready,” you say in unison, and start laughing, you lean forwards to take off his shirt  and he fumbles with the straps on your dress until you together manage to take it off. He kicks off his sweatpants and now you’re both naked. You look at his cock and you’re pleased to see how pretty and long and thick it is and he’s already so wet, so you open the packet and roll the condom on him. 

“How do you want to…” he starts but you’re already pushing his chest down so he’s lying flat on his back. 

“Let me ride you,” you say and you’re already climbing over him. You’re not wasting any time, you take hold of his cock and put it inside you, sitting on his lap fully. You take a few seconds to get used to it, even though you’re so wet and relaxed it’s not an issue anymore, and then you start moving. 

It gets frantic all too quickly, you’re both too horny and close to try for any kind of finesse, you’re riding him like it’s the last thing you do in your life and he’s just holding you, his hands roaming over your body, squeezing your ass and tits, until he plants his feet over your bed and start thrusting against you. It’s so wild and both of you are moaning and getting out of breath, accompanied just by the slapping and squelching sound.

“Y/N, I’m coming,” he moans and you just nod quickly, because you’re coming too and you can’t even speak anymore. You lean forward to hug him tightly while you’re shaking and spasming and you can see his cock throb and pump inside you. Your ears are ringing and it almost feels like the whole room is spinning with how strong your orgasm was. 

You finally start coming to your senses so you just slump against him. You're both sweaty and sticky but it also feels kinda nice. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it over both of you so that you won't get cold and it somewhat warms your heart a little. You were already almost starting to get worried about things becoming awkward between you, but when you look up on his face, he’s smiling kindly at you and you know everything will be okay. Maybe even… 

“You know Y/N,” he chuckles. “I must say, I like living with you a lot more than I expected I would, but now that I have had you in my bed…It kinda feels like you belong here,” he says and snuggles you tighter to his chest. 

Yeah, you think. Maybe, indeed. 

#younghoon smut #kim younghoon smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #ficscafe #younghoon fic #kim younghoon fic #younghoon #kim younghoon #kpop smut #kpop fic #younghoon imagines #kim younghoon imagines #younghoon x reader #kim younghoon x reader #younghoon scenarios #kim younghoon scenarios #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz #tbz

[lesbianredhoodedmercenary]

so about the new ishmael ego

I like her. I could say more but that would be another post. Look at the background. This part specifically.

There's a private beach roped off here. It looks pristine compared to the polluted waters Ishmael's boat is in. Hell, the water is green over here.

Makes me wonder if sections of the lake are roped off for nest-dwellers only. And these beaches are kept clean, meanwhile on the other side of the ropes, the beach seems to be an industrial waste dumping ground.

#limbus company #i live near the great lakes so in the summer we'd go to lake michigan a lot and. the people who own private beaches do rope them off. #and would also dump their trash on the public beach #and even when they put trash cans on the beach the people who had private beaches would dump so much that they'd usually be overflowing #IF YOU'RE RICH ENOUGH TO OWN A PRIVATE BEACH USE YOUR OWN TRASH CAN #especially if you're going to yell at any children who go a foot past your fucking “private property no trespassing” sign #i harbor a great deal of spite for people who own beach houses or lake houses #like yeah i bet you have a second house that you never shut up about. i get it you have money. #... i think these random unrelated rambles in the tags are just a feature of my original posts now

[tribbetherium]

From a single founding species descended from the stellasnoots that found a suitable home in the secluded caverns of Arcuterra, the daggoths, a clade of subterranean molrocks of distant relation to the rattiles, have since diversified over the last 25 million years in isolation. As the cave systems naturally expanded over the course of many millennia, the ecosystem too grew bigger, as it created more room for a wider and more diverse range of species to thrive.

Over millions of years, the upper chambers of the cave system became more open to the surface, resulting to not only a slight but significant influx of oxygen into the ecosystem but also nutrients from the surface, such as organic detritus and the abundant droppings of transient species such as roosting ratbats that nest in the surface chambers, washed down into the caves by rain. These fuel the abundant growth of bacteria, mocklichens and meatmoss, the cavern ecosystem's producers in the absence of plants and sunlight. With an abundance of food, space and, relatively speaking, oxygen, the life of the caves have since grown more diverse and complex than ever before.

Many of the daggoths have remained unchanged from the first forms that were the earliest colonists of the caves. The gothtles, small, mouse-sized insectivores, continue to stick to the ancestral lifestyle, as small, slow-moving ambush hunters that relied on stealth to pounce on insects. Yet the ancestral niche now comes with one drastic difference: they are no longer the apex predators of their environment. Abundant and fast-breeding, the gothtles are now the lower rung of the food chain as larger predators have since evolved from other branches of their kin.

While slower basal gothtles now rely on camouflage by scent and touch to evade enemies, numerous lineages have since evolved speed and evasiveness in order to outpace their predators. One such group are the xenomures, such as the four-plumed xenomure (Xenomuris tetradactylopluma), with long, slender legs that allow them to scurry quickly across the fungal and meatmoss mats to escape their enemies and hide among the maze-like growths to lose their enemies' trail. Two pairs of modified digits act as antennae fore and aft, giving the xenomures a vivid perception of obstacles in their surroundings while moving quickly in the pitch black darkness. These timid omnivores, in many ways, have come to be the caves' ecological parallel to "typical" rodents like furbils and duskmice on the surface, with some even harvesting and storing fruiting pods of mocklichens in burrow larders to eat later, and thus helping the mocklichens proliferate to new areas.

Other lineages of the small gothtles have also evolved more active lifestyles as dynamics of the ecosystem have changed. Some, such as the long-bodied common skitter (Longicorpomys polypus) developed slender bodies and shorter limbs to specialize in hiding in small crevices in the rock walls, well-protected from predators, where they can feed on the fungal mycelia, the buried "roots" hidden underneath the organic soil-like detritus mats covering the cave floors. Others have become small hunters of their own right, paralleling the chrews and scabbers of the surface, like the earthumb arthoid (Dactylotomys auricheirus), equipped with two front digits bearing pointed claws positioned next to its head almost like ears, that it uses to root out small prey, such as insects, nematodes and wormlike maggoths out of their burrows and out from growths of mocklichens and meatmoss.

Virtually every surface of the cavern system has offered a habitat for life, including the walls and the ceiling of the caves, with the walls and roofs forming elevated "branches" and dangling "vines" of various vegetative plant-analogues, which are fed upon by "browsers" adapted to reach high up on to access fungal growths inaccessible to other ground-dwellers.

The ceilings, in particular, are abuzz with a surprising diversity of organisms dwelling amidst the overhanging stalactites. In particular, the dangling "vines", in reality complex filamentous fungal hyphae nourished by a symbiotic relationship with chemosynthetic bacteria, produce buds that exude an odorous scent, that draws in the feelerflits: flying insects descended from dipteran flies that, with long and very sensitive antennae equipped with tactile, thermal and olfactory receptors, have secondarily regained their power of flight and are able to navigate even without sight and home in on the buds that produce nutritious carbohydrate-rich liquids in return for it spreading its spores.

One descendant of the roof stalac has since adapted to exploit this relationship. The bulbous-snouted budwight (Nasofungiosus imitator) has developed specialized bud-like growths at the end of its nasal tendrils, that sport modified sebaceous glands that excrete a scent similar to those of the vine blooms, the chemicals of which it acquires and secretes by eating the blooms themselves. Then, lying in wait, anchored onto the surface of stalactites or perched amidst the vines, it waves its tendrils in the air in anticipation of an unwary feelerflit blundering into its trap, to be ensnared by seven long and flexible tendrils and passed into the mouth to be eaten.

Curiously, despite its purpose of mimicry, the budwight's tendrils in fact look nothing at all like the vine buds, being simple enlarged growths at the ends of the knobbly nasal appendages. In a world of darkness, appearances are almost entirely insignificant, as prey and predator alike perceive their surroundings with sound, smell and touch, as well as other more remarkable senses like thermo- and electroreception. As such, mimcry revolves around these senses: not even a vaguely-similar imitation to a sighted creature, but a deception at least sufficient to trap its equally-blind prey.

Of the various small daggoths that populate the caves, however, none are as divergent and unconventional as the maggoths: a lineage of neotenic descendants of the mossmulch, a more typical-looking daggoth whose life-cycle has taken unexpected turns to produce one of the greatest regressions in complexity second only to the shroomors.

Measuring only a centimeter or less, the maggoths, such as the basal lichen maggoth (Vermimys simplisticus) are extremely simplified creatures: their respiration takes place almost entirely through their permeable skin, their skeletons, save for their ossified mandible and maxilla, are completely made of only cartilage, and they move entirely through two sets of muscles, an inner layer of longtidunal muscles and an outer layer of concentric muscles that contract and relax alternatingly to undulate them forward. This body plan arose from the mossmulch's early gestation lasting only a few days and producing barely-developed young, basically just self-sufficient and free-living early-stage embryos, adapted to feed constantly on meatmoss and mocklichens by tunneling through them, and, with an abundance of a reliable food source, some species eventually became neotenic, no longer developing limbs and nasal tendrils and ossified skeletons, and simply reproducing in a larger version of their quasi-larval state.

The simplified anatomy and reduction of surplus organs has allowed maggoths to be quite successful in the vast expanses of the subterranean caverns. In particular, their very simple bodies has reduced their development to but a few days, allowing them to shorten their generations to as little as three or four weeks: at the age of twenty-one days, maggoths are already sexually mature and can mate, bearing litters of up to a dozen or more wormlike quasi-larval young at a time once every five or six days. These 3-4 millimeter-long newborns feed off skin secretions made by the females for the first few hours of their life before departing for good, in a last remaining hint of mammalian history in a species so far removed from a typical mammal's form.

Another, unlikely advantage of their simplified anatomy is that it requires far less oxygen, which coupled by their incredibly small body sizes and their respiration through their skin, has led one lineage into a new frontier: the waters of the subterranearn rivers as well as the underground sumps that form bodies of water such as ponds and lakes. Thus arose the hampreys: the first ever aquatic lineage of hamsters on HP-02017 to evolve fully-aquatic respiration and thus be entirely independent of breathing air at the surface. Specialized vessels directly branching from the heart absorb oxygen diffused through their permeable skin, and thus their lungs have been reduced to simple sacs regulating buoyancy. Perhaps more remarkable, however, is the marked reduction of their nervous system, especially the brain: their simple lifestyle and unusual respiration had no need for such an energy-hungry organ as a complex brain, and thus in the hampreys this otherwise very vital organ, once the pride of mammals in their complexity, now has completely atrophied to basically but a brain stem, capable of little more than basic bodily functions and responses to external stimuli, moving through the water in jerky, wiggling movements toward the taste and scent of food and away from the vibrations of danger.

Some hampreys, such as the rasping hamprey (Vermicthymys micronis), are independent creatures teeming in the underground ponds and lakes, scraping off mats of chemosynthetic bacterial colonies using their jaws: an ossified mandible and maxilla bearing two pairs of gnawing incisors--basically the only remaining visual vestige of their rodent ancestry. Some, however, have specialized these remnant teeth for another purpose: the sanguine hamprey (Atrocivermimys haemophilus) has developed elongated teeth and a "lip" that allows its mouth to function as a suction--enabling it to attach to other aquatic daggoths such as tubesnouts and trogadiles and parasitically feed off their bodily fluids.

Not all daggoths are small, however. In the recent eons, as food and space became more available as the caverns grew and became more oxygenated, some of the daggoths began growing in size. While still small compared to outside surface animals, reaching only a maximum of 90 kilograms in the largest "grazers", their size is nonetheless an incredible achievement given their environment and evolutionary history.

The lineage that would give rise to their largest species eventually diversified into low-level grazers, higher-level browsers, generalist omnivores and specialized macro-predators. But most basal of these are the grummlers, with the largest species being the giant grummler (Macroabyssomys maximus). These represent the earliest lineage of daggoths that began expermenting with size, with them resembling the basic daggoth but simply larger. With their increased weight, their multiple digits became more columnar to support their bulk, their reduced metacarpals forming equivalents of shoulder blades to anchor powerful limb muscles, while their phalanges grew stronger and thicker and developed a bony heel-like protrusion on the second-to-the-last phalanx to support a fleshy "sole" pad: in essence turning the spindly fingers of the smaller daggoths into sixteen proper "legs".

The greater grummler is a large and indiscriminate omnivore, feeding on mocklichens, meatmoss, bacterial mats, arthropods, smaller daggoths and carrion. Depending on the species, the several species of grummlers either lean toward a more "grazer" side or a more "carnivore" side: a distinction that is less drastic than surface animals given that some of their "plant" equivalents are technically animals as well, making them more accurately "meat-grazer omnivores" or "carno-herbivores". This dietary ambiguity of this lineage would lead to the evolutionary split between the "grazers" such as the molepedes and the biblarodons, and the predators such as the blindmutts, with the grummlers themselves representing a more ancestral state of this divergence. Indeed, leaning more on the "grazer" side, the giant grummler itself sometimes falls prey to smaller grummler species with more carnivorous tendencies, especially targeted if sick, young or old.

As larger-scale predation began to emerge among the macro-daggoths, a trend akin to surface animals started to arise among them--an arms race between increasingly armed predators and increasingly defended "herbivores", with hunters specializing to take down prey larger than themselves, and large prey developing weapons to better fend off would-be assailants.

One of the most notable examples of this would be the molepedes: a clade of macro-daggoths that developed elongated bodies and short limbs that allowed them to graze closer to the ground, feeding on filamentous, low-growing mocklichens that, in a loose sense, could be considered an analogue of "grass". These slow-moving creatures were afforded ample protection by their size alone in the earlier days, but as predators too began to grow, the molepedes gradually found themselves becoming outmatched. Over time, the ancestral soft-bodied molepedes disappeared entirely, too vulnerable to the new predators, but from it emerged two lineages: the thorny molepedes and the armored molepedes.

The common thorny molepede (Echinopolypodomys spinosus) repurposed many of the sensory bristle hairs of its body into defensive spines, covering its back, its flanks and even its nasal tendrils. These spines, barbed and loose like porcupine quills, embed painfully into a would-be predator's skin and remain stuck in the flesh as they break off. As a warning, they exude a distinctive scent from specialized anal glands that previously-quilled predators quickly associate with a painful experience.

However, while an effective means of self defense, the thorny molepede's defensive spines pose a significant challenge to its other routine activities: specifically, when it comes to mating. Thorny molepede courtship is an awkward affair, with both partners releasing odorous pheromones to communicate their amorous and non-hostile intentions. Once they reach a mutual agreement, they then very slowly and gingerly back into each other, until their rearmost quills barely touch, and the male, fortunately endowed with elongated reproductive equipment, is able to complete his job from a safe distance.

A less socially-challenged relative of the thorny molepede is the armored molepede (Armopolypodomys edurus), which is a far more gregarious creature than its spiny cousin and gathers in small groups of up to ten to twenty individuals at a time. Rather than spines, the armored molepede instead has fused its hypertrophied, hardened bristles into tough keratinous scutes, which form a coat of plated armor nigh-impenetrable to the claws and teeth of its enemies. When threatened, groups of then huddle together and press themselves down, concealing their vulnerable limbs and nasal tendrils and exposing only their armored backs. Their strategy is one of persistence: eventually, after hours of clawing and biting to no avail, most predators simply give up the hunt and leave to find easier food elsewhere, and once danger has passed, the armored molepedes once more unfurl and carry on their usual grazing.

Both types of molepede tend their young with a significant amount of care until their defenses grow in, even if only passively, with their numerous litters of up to twenty young at once huddling between the adults' legs, afforded protection by their armored or spiny backs. They are, however, quite precocial, grazing and moving on their own shortly after birth, and, once sufficiently developed and defended at the age of five or six months, gradually disperse from their parent to lead an independent life.

Such defenses have become a necessity for the great grazer daggoths, as predation became more of a significant threat with the evolution of the cavern system's first proper apex predators, the blindmutts. Earlier forms simply preyed upon smaller daggoths such gothtles and xenomures, but, as prey species increased in size, so did some predators, leading to the development of some advanced blindmutts able to tackle large prey such as molepedes, biblarodons and grummlers as well.

The mandibled tendriltooth (Abyssatrox xenoailuroides) is, in the Middle Temperocene, the caverns' undisputed apex predator: even if it grows only to the size of a large house cat. Its most notable adaptation is the development of sharp, hooked keratinous spines on six of its seven nasal tendrils, which have become thick and muscular and adapted for gripping: in essence becoming six additional jaws with false "teeth". Two of its foremost digits, its central nasal tendril, and its two rear digits act as sensory feelers able to navigate its surroundings with a delicate sense of touch, while it homes in on prey with a powerful sense of smell and hearing. Once it locates its prey, it tries to grapple it with an ambushing pounce before using its six main limbs to anchor itself with its claws, and using its toothed tendril-jaws to secure a firm grip on the prey's neck before using its true teeth, sharp dagger-like incisors, to inflict a fatal bite to the prey's neck. As it targets prey larger than itself, the tendriltooth may take several days to eat its fill, and will camp out next to the carcass over the following days, fending off rivals and scavengers that may come to steal its prize. As its prolonged feeding lasts for a duration long enough for putrefaction to set in, the tendriltooth has evolved an extremely powerful set of digestive juices that allow it to continue feeding on even decomposing meat. Eventually, however, once it has sated its fill, the rotting carcass is then abandoned, and now unguarded, a buffet of scavengers then descend on the carcass, ranging from insects and worms to maggoths and xenomures to even rumptusks, vulpemousers and grummlers, all clearing up the residues the tendriltooth leaves in its wake.

Tendriltooths may reign as top carnivore, devoid of any predators of their own, yet their existence is still a precarious one, as they are few and far between given their placement on the food web. Throughout the entire cavern ecosystem, filled with millions of daggoths of different species, there are never more than a few hundred adult tendriltooths at any one time, being solitary and territorial, as they need plenty of space to sustain themselves. Tendriltooths are fairly prolific, with litters of up to twenty to thrirty tiny offspring at a time, but these small but precocial offspring, independent after only a few weeks, have a rather high mortality rate: during their early youth, where they prey primarily on insects, they are indiscriminately themselves prey for various medium-sized carnivores such as vulpemousers and smaller blindmutts, and, once they themselves graduate to medium-sized carnivore status hunting larger prey like xenomures, now have to contend with adult tendriltooths who will target the subadults to get rid of potential competition. However, should a lucky tendriltooth survive its precarious first two years, a feat accomplished by less than five percent of all juveniles, it is assured a niche of apex predator, unbothered by any other creature and with only another adult tendriltooth to fear.

------

#speculative evolution #speculative biology #spec evo #speculative zoology #hamster's paradise #biome post

[cosmica-galaxy]

Behold! The mimic Drillman! == + Mimic Drillmen have metallic like digits on the ends of their limbs. These metal claws help them dig through soil, clay, gravel, and sand. They have a harder time digging through concrete and asphalt when young, but the claws sharpen as they age. + This mimic type have very limited mouth movement and consumes only a liquid diet. The proboscis is as sharp as a hypodermic needle and is used to impale prey and to drain them of their bodily fluids. + This mimic is also one of the few mimics that is actually VENOMOUS. It's tongue has nasty barbs laced with a powerful neurotoxin on the end of it that allow it to paralyze prey incredibly fast. + They are communal mimics and live in groups while underground. They are known to make nests in places with underground locations, such as basements, bank vaults, utility plants, or even sewers. + They have a symbiotic relationship with Speaker Mimics! Both help each other cover their own weaknesses and even cooperate when living in close quarters with each other. While Speaker mimics are vulnerable when close to the ground, the drill mimics look out for them and vice versa, as drill mimics are vulnerable to airborne enemies. + They also have...unique feeding habits. They not only paralyze their prey or stab them, they are also known to impale them like Shrikes in a makeshift "pantry". They even have special containers called "blood pans" that collect the blood from the impaled victims and they bottle to drink for later. + They can't eat solid food, only liquid food. This can range from blood, meat puree, water, fruits, and even veggies. As long as it can be drained, they can do to. + To know when this mimic is in the area, look for dried husks. Either skibidi corpses or animal carcasses drained of all their fluids, even eyes in some cases, will be a big clue. + They also can't speak because of their limited mouth movements. Instead, they communicate through Morse code, knocking, grunts, or sign language. + They are sensitive to light, from being primarily underground dwellers, and they can only see via vibrations. + They do not know what a human is and don't view them as a food source, if they accidentally grab the human, they'll let them go in surprise. + Their young are called "Drillets". + The one that joins the human's pack is actually an old friend of Pal, who he grew up with!

#haxorus imp #hax speaks #cosmica galaxy #cosmica-galaxy #skibidi tag #my art #skibidi toilet #skibidi oc #skibidi mimic #skibidi toilet mimic #skibidi multiverse #skibidi toilet multiverse

[valve3nthusiast]

Octomer Ratchet is so good. I can imagine any chromatophores he might have going wild while pursuing Drift, if he has any natural camouflage abilities.

Perhaps he plays a game with Drift, hiding among coral and rock formations in order to "sneak up" on him, his usual brights reds and whites distorting to match their environment-- Maybe arousal causes some colour changing as well?

IDK I just really like the idea of Ratchet changing colour (or at least hues) like a mood ring lmao maybe it even frustrates him a bit, like oh no my fucking chromatophores are going to give away this huge crush I have -- he might try to hide in corals or swirl up a bunch of sand with his tentacles initially

If Drift is a land dweller, then maybe they figure out Ratchet is interested in him by studying how Ratch's colours change, and what patterns/colours only appear when Drift is around...

...and maybe Ratchet's attempts at hiding/playing hide and seek (lol) are mistaken for aggression at first, because they don't know why he's doing it

and then they guess it's some kind of broody behaviour, like maybe he's trying to defend a nest or egg clutch that he doesn't really have?? Because Ratchet's grumpy but not usually aggressive and it's weird behaviour from him as far as they're aware. So then he gets a little pity from the facility staff but it's hilarious because he does want to Do It but all the guessing isn't quite right. Like yes it's about Doin It and Eventual Eggs but not in the way they think. Communication Issues lol

"stop giving me extra companion fish out of pity and just give me Drift, do you not see my cream and burgundy-red colouring, is this somehow not clear enough? Oh god here he comes, sand sand sand I need more sand why is this coral so small" no it is not clear to them, Ratchet. lmaooo

Anyway this is earthstellar but Tumblr will only let me send asks from my main blog and not my TF blog lol so ayyy just wanted to say, loving this mer AU situation 🐙💖

This is such a good concept,,, besotted Ratchet accidentally telling on himself with his own colors is genius. Also blushy Ratchet is adorable <3

Hmm a really clear concept just came to me... Security guard Drift at the marine research facility, Ratchet is the only mer there who constantly avoids him, so he just disappointedly assumes he gives Ratchet bad vibes

One night when he's on a skeleton shift, he passes by Ratchet's tank and suddenly notices that something is fucked up with the filtration pumps (or whatever I don't know how aquariums work)

He immediately makes an emergency call to the aquarium techs who are at home. They tell him to get Ratchet moved till someone arrives to fix it. So he's hesitantly going up to the tank like, "hey buddy I know you dont like me, but I gotta pull you out of here for a bit, it's not safe" Ratchet quickly pulls himself right into Drifts arms... and now he's carrying a big squirming octomer. Drift's pretty surprised, but he brushes it off as Ratchet wanting out of his tank

When Drift finally gets to the temporary tank he expects Ratchet to jump from his arms and signal for him to basically fuck off... instead, he goes to put Ratchet down, only to get pulled into the tank with him. Now he's sitting in chest high water, pinned by a heavy wiggling octomer in his lap

For Ratchet, life is good 😎👍

Drift, meanwhile, is mentally repeating "don't get hard" like a mantra, while a purring Ratchet's tentacles caress every inch of his plating. Since it was the middle of the night, they have to wait a good bit for someone who can fix the pumps to get there and make Ratchet's tank safe again...

Maybe, as the hours go on, Ratchet gets a bit friskier... or maybe he just leaves it at intimate exploration, because he's too busy watching Drift whimper and twitch underneath his tentacles <3

#sorry this strayed a bit from your ask but the concept gripped me and would not let go #valveplug #mine #dratchet #drift #ratchet #merformers #3nthusiasts inbox

[avesdraws]

A wren took interest in a potential nest, not knowing someone else had their eyes on it already, and nesting competition can be fierce among hollow dwellers.

#i do NOT want to tag this as b.orrowers tf do i tag this as #speculative biology #anyway watched videos of birds beating ths shit out of each others for nests

[skumhuu]

ooo kinda thinking about it what does Error do to pass the time besides causing mass distraction to land dwellers? yk kinda like how cannon Error knits/makes dolls whats Levithantale Error's comparison to that? :0

The mass destruction is more unintentional than purposeful. He mainly looks for Sans and Papyrus, lures land dwellers into the sea for Ink to eat, and makes bubbles :3 Instead of string, he blows bubbles to trap things inside. It’s basically like Geno’s sea-foam but on a larger scale. Levia!Error has a giant sea-foam bubble nest, filled with all sorts of things. They can be polluted, oil filled, or clear and air filled. All depends on what he’s trying to keep. Ink is always hovering over him 😂

#ask #usercookie2008 #I’m thinking about changing their story up a lil #concerning Blue #I’ve been so focused on the shiver I lost track of the others LOL

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: lampreys

Welcome to the first Wet Beast Wednesday covering an agnathan. What is that, you may ask? Why it means jawless fish. But they aren't really fish even though they live underwater and have gills. Taxonomy strikes again. Anyway, agnathans are more closely related to each other than to any bony or cartilaginous fish and they may represent an early stage in the evolution of vertebrates. There are only two living groups of agnathans: the hagfish (which I'll get to sometime) and the lampreys.

(Image: a pair of lampreys, one resting on rocky sediment and one swimming. They are long, green, slender fish-like animals with only dorsal and tail fins, several holes on the sides of the heads, large eyes, and no visible jaws. End ID)

Lampreys are sometimes mistakenly called eels due to their long and slender bodies. All 38 known species are elongated, scaleless animals with a funnel-shaped, jawless mouth called the buccal tunnel or buccal cavity. They do not have paired fins, only two dorsal fins and a tail fin. The head has one nostril on the top and seven pores on each side that allow water flowing over the gills to exit the body, similar to the gill slits of sharks. Adult lampreys have well-developed eyes while the larvae have weak eyes covered with skin. In addition, they have two simple parietal eyes, making lampreys the only four-eyes vertebrates. The mouth acts like a suction cup and is used to suction onto rocks or other animals. Inside the mouth is a rasping tongue that is used to scrape at food. You may think that all lampreys are parasites that feed on blood. This isn't the case, only 18 species are predatory and some of those are thought to be exclusively scavengers. The rest of the species either feed on algae by scraping it from rocks or never eat as adults, subsisting entirely on energy stores gained as a larva. The last common ancestor of all living lampreys (which is estimated to have either lived during the Jurassic or Cretaceous periods) is believed to have fed on blood as an adult. Lampreys are believed to be part of a sister group to all jawed vertebrates and are considered the most basal (closest to the ancestral form) of all vertebrates. They have cartilaginous skeletons and primitive, cartilaginous structures called arcualia instead of vertebrae. Lampreys are some of the most efficient swimmers and swim using a different method to other fish. Instead of using their fins to push themselves forward, lampreys use their fins to generate low-pressure zones in the water around their bodies to pull themselves forward. The pressure equalizing is what does most of the work of moving the lamprey, allowing them to move while expending little energy. In shallow water, the lampreys can use their suctioning abilities to crawl forward and are able to crawl over obstacles like rocks or ramps. Most lampreys are exclusively freshwater dwellers, but 9 species (all of which are carnivorous) live mostly in saltwater (though they can also live in large bodies of freshwater like lakes) and return to freshwater to breed. Of the 38 species of lamprey, only 5 species (in two families) live in the southern hemisphere. The remaining species are all members of the family Petromyzontidae and live in the northern hemisphere. No species lives in the tropics, seemingly because their larvae are not heat-tolerant.

(Image: a lamprey's mouth seen from below. It round and conical and ringed with multiple rows of sharp, yellow teeth. End ID)

The lamprey life cycle of lampreys starts in streams which adults will often migrate to reach. Adults will create nests called redds by using their suction to move rocks and expose the sediment below. Males use pheromones to attract females and the two intertwine with each other. The male presses a patch of heat-producing tissue to stimulate the female to release her eggs. The male fertilizes the eggs as they emerge. All lamprey species are semelparous, meaning they die after mating. In the case of lampreys that don't eat as adults, their adult forms exist only to mate and die, much like mayflies and some species of moth. Other species that can eat as adults spend up to 4 years feeding and growing before they mate. Larvae are called ammocoetes and once hatched, they are carried downstream to eventually settle on soft sediment. There, they burrow their rear halves into the sediment with their heads exposed. In this stage, they are filter feeders who need running water to bring plankton, algae, and bits of organic detritus to their mouths. Instead of the disc-like mouths of adult lampreys, ammocoete mouths are fleshy hood that enclose a sieve-like structures that filters particles out of the water. The lifestyle of ammocoetes is very similar to that of lancelets, which are extremely primitive chordates believed to represent some of the earliest stages of chordate evolution. Ammocoetes require water high in nutrients to survive as they capture only a small amount of water and therefore food. Ammocoetes are photosensitive, allowing them to change color in response to ambient light (becoming dark in the day and ale at night) and detect if they are properly buried. Depending on species, ammocoetes can grow between 10 and 20 cm (4-8 in) in length and they can spend between 1 and 10 years in this state. Metamorphosis to the adult form can last up to 4 months and lampreys do not feed during this process. Metamorphosis is synchronized between members of the same species.

(Image: three ammocoetes buried in sand with only their heads exposed. They are similar to the adults but pink, with small, barely-visible eyes, and their mouth are flexible and look like fleshy flaps. End ID)

(Image: two lampreys mating. they are coiled onto each other with one using its mouth to suction onto the midsection of the other. They are on a rocky stream bed. End ID)

Lampreys are used in science for several purposes. They are often used as a model organism when attempting to understand the biology of early vertebrates and extinct agnathans. They are also studied quite a bit for their nervous systems. Lamprey brains are very simple and likely represent very early stages of brain development in vertebrates. In addition, they are useful for studies of the transmission of electrical impulses between nerve cells due to their axons (the part of a nerve cell that conducts electricity away from the main body and to other nerve cells), which are large enough for microinjectors to inject test substances into them. Lampreys are capable of fully recovering from having their spinal cords severed, something that is of great interest to surgeons and neurologists. Lampreys have been used as a food source in many cultures around the world. Some species have toxic mucus and blood, requiring them to be cleaned before eating. Historically lampreys have been kept in captivity for use in food as well as other purposes. There are records of people being executed or tortured by being thrown into a pit of carnivorous lampreys. In the wld, carnivorous lampreys generally don't attack humans unless they are starving. In addition, there is a record of one Roman statesman named Lucius Licinius Crassus being scolded for being more upset over the death of his pet lamprey than over the deaths of any of his wives. Unfortunately, the thing a lot of people know lampreys for today is the sea lamprey (Petromyzon marinus) being an invasive species in the great lakes of North America. They have no natural predators in the lakes and feed on a lot of ecologically and commercially important species. Due to their lack of predators, multiple methods are used to try to reduce their numbers and keep them from harming the ecosystem. These include using barriers to keep the adults from migrating upstream to breed, release of targeted poisons called lampricides, and releasing sterilized males into the lakes to mate with the females.

(Image: two sea lampreys suctioned onto a fish. The fish is green and covered with black dots. The two lampreys are suctioned next to each other on the top of the fish's head. Their bodies are dangling off of the fish in different directions. End ID)

#wet beast wednesday #lamprey #sea lamprey #agnatha #agnathan #jawless fish #fish #fishblr #marine biology #freshwater biology #ecology #zoology #animal facts #informative #image described

[space-mermaid-writing]

The Vamp and the Were [IronStrange]

Summary: Tony would mark the day he met a vampire that did not immediately jump at his throat. Just for once – that would be a nice change.

Relationship: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange

Tags: IronStrange, Vampire Stephen Strange, Werewolf Tony Stark, hurt/comfort, idiots in love, angst, urban fantasy au

Ko-fi | Read it on AO3 | Masterlist | Word count: 1.3k | Previous | Next

Chapter 2: Two

Getting into a vampire nest wasn't the problem. If you knew what you were looking for, the entrance was easy to find – in this case the nest was the abandoned basement of a building that had been waiting for demolition for several years. It was cordoned off with a construction fence, and signs indicated that this was private property – no trespassing.

Still, the upper floors were often used by homeless people or runaway teenagers. The kinds of people who were a perfect snack source for the basement dwellers.

Of course they had some security measures in the form of modern technology, but those posed no challenge to the sorcerer.

As said, getting in wasn't the problem.

But it was like hitting a hornet's nest with a baseball bat; once you opened it, there was no escape. There were only two options: hunt, or be hunted.

The sorcerer of the Mystic Arts consisted of both humans and vampires. But those Vamps couldn't be more different than the vampires they were fighting. They were like two different species.

Stephen used one of his red magic whips to yank a vampire off his feet and hurled her against the wall. He knew it would hurt his opponent, but it wouldn’t be fatal. Only fire or beheading was effective. Or sunlight, if you had enough time.

Tearing a vampire into tiny little pieces so they couldn't regenerate was also an option, but one that took a lot of effort.

Another sorcerer threw a golden spell disc at the vampire Stephen had just thrown against the wall, separating her head from the body.

Although they were no longer human, it hurt Stephen to take their lives. Not because he was of the same species – he felt little affiliation to these beings – but because they, like him, had once been human. But now they were a danger to the world. 

And Stephen had sworn to protect the world. He didn’t differentiate between humans and vampires or any other species that was.

The individuals here had lost almost everything that had once made them human. Unfortunately, that happened a lot of times when they got turned, and nobody took care of them or taught them to be something else than angry and hungry beings."

Stephen had been lucky – if you could call it that – that the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj had found him when he had been at that point.

The sorcerers fought as a team, covered for each other, taking advantage of their years of training together.

The unfriendly vampires moved on instinct. Survival was the only drive they knew. The sorcerers fought as a unit and with tactics, and thus were superior to their opponents. They only had to be careful not to get too close to the pointy teeth.

Stephen used another red whip to pull a vampire away from Wong’s neck.

Suddenly there was a loud crash when part of the wall to their right collapsed. Surprised by this unexpected destruction, the human sorcerers coughed in the dust cloud.

Loud footsteps stepped over the rubble and the outline of the Iron Man suit could be made out in the semi-darkness, along with several other members of the Avengers.

Stark raised a hand and used a repulsor blast to knock one of the enemy vampires, who was trying to use the chaos to pounce on one of the sorcerers, off his feet.

Stephen only allowed himself to be distracted for a moment. He still had his hands full with the vampire on the other end of his whip. At least, until that one too was hit by a blast.

Stark appeared next to him, his faceplate open. "Thanks for the tip with the coven. It wasn't difficult to find after a little bit of research."

Stephen could have slapped himself for telling Stark about it. That meant this little incident here was his fault.

"We had everything under control," he replied through clenched teeth.

“Well, can’t sue me for wanting insurance, doc.” There was a press smile plastered on the hunter’s face.

Tony Stark was unarguably the most famous werewolf in the world. Just as his father had been before him. Tony was probably even more famous, because he had the advantage of social media and globalization.

He used to be seen as the specimen of a Were in a suit – a popular term for a tough businessman.

Stark’s world got turned around after he had been captured by vampires in Afghanistan.

How he survived that without even being turned… It was a miracle. Iron Man was born, who later became a member of the Avengers; a bunch of people of different species with various skills, who hunted undead and protected people from them.

Like they did right now, interfering with the work of the Masters of the Mystic Arts. Stephen was just glad that they always took precautionary security measures so that those who were not human beings still appeared as such. He just hoped those measures were enough. 

Well, no time like the present to find out.

The last of the hostile vampires had been killed and Steve Rogers approached him. Probably to speak to Stark, who was still standing next to him, eyeing him curiously, as if he was a riddle to solve.

Ironically, Steve Rogers was one of the projects Howard Stark was most known for. An experiment. He had taken his own werewolf DNA, made a serum and injected it into a human.

The result was surprisingly good looking. Rogers became strong like a Were, having the muscles while his physiology remained mostly human.

Not quite all of it. His hair was a bit too shaggy whenever he didn’t tame it with styling products. His teeth were a bit too sharp, and his voice was commanding in a way that made him sound as if he was barking when giving orders.

Still, America loved him.

“We cleared the basement," Rogers informed Stark before he turned to Stephen, clearly taking the opportunity to seize him up.

Stephen made a subtle gesture to Wong that he and the other sorcerers should leave. There was no need to expose them longer to the Avengers than necessary.

He met the Captain’s eyes and saw the exact moment he flared his nostrils and failed to get any scent from Strange. Good.

Rogers covered his irritation professionally. “Are you the wizard that gave Tony the tip about this nest?” he asked. “Doctor Strange?”

Stephen nodded. “I prefer the term ‘sorcerer’. And yes, I did. Even though it hadn’t been meant as an invitation.” He turned his head to Stark for that last part.

The Were looked back amused, almost challenging. But he was actively following the conversation as if he was still trying to analyze the sorcerer. If he was in his wolf form he would probably have his ears up and his tail at attention.

Then Rogers spoke up again and demanded Stephen’s focus. “Well, the job is done. It’s what we do.”

“And since that is the case, there is no further need for me to stay here.” Stephen raised his hand to create a portal but the Captain was faster.

“Wait,” he commanded, his voice shifting into something more serious. “We’ve got some questions for you.”

The sorcerer considered it for a moment. “Make it brief.”

“Do you fight vampires on a regular basis, doctor? Tony mentioned you two met over that last time.”

Stephen wondered if Stark also told his teammates that he had saved his ass. Probably not by the looks of his face right now.

“If they act as a threat, we do.”

“Who is ‘we’?” It was Stark who raised that question. “How many of you wizards are there?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified.” Stephen moved his hand in a circle and created a portal above him. “And to answer your next question: no. We don’t want to join your hunting club.”

“But what about–…”

Stephen didn’t hear the rest of Roger’s sentence. The cloak had already carried him upwards and the portal closed under his feet before anyone could follow him.

_________________________________

Tag list: @jekyllhydetrash @goopierthenyou Tell me if you wanna be added/removed

#ironstrange #doctor strange #tony stark #Vampire Stephen Strange #Werewolf Tony Stark #stephen strange #marvel #mcu #strangeiron #The Vamp and the Were #spacemermaid writes

[puddle-nerd]

Flirt

Summary: Guess he really was trying to flirt with you after all… Not that you were complaining in the least.

Prompt #3 for my submission for #𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Omatikaya | Blue Flute Clan, Na’vi Language, Friendship, Flirting

Na’vi Translation: Iknimaya – (Na’vi for “Stairway to Heaven”) is a treacherous but fundamental rite of passage in which a young Na’vi hunter must select, capture, and successfully bond with one of the ikran who nest in the Hallelujah Mountains Ikran – also known as a banshee are large, dragon-like aerial predators that can be found roosting on the various cliff sides on the Hallelujah Mountains often being used by the Na’vi for traveling long distances, for hunting from the air, or even during times of war Kelku – home | house Syaksyuk – also called “Prolemuris”, they are chattering, non-aggressive tree dwellers that lives in the canopy, as opposed to the dangerous forest floor and are similar to the monkeys and apes of Earth Uniltìranyu – Dreamwalker

AO3 Link

It was a rare day when you didn’t want to do actual work of teaching Jake the ways of your people – you usually had a very good work ethic amongst the people of your village, so when you wanted to skive off like you did today… instead of teaching him anything super important like you were supposed to, you decided to take a run through the forests of your home and were also watching his reaction as he took in the beauty and marvel of your world. So full of many beautiful colors and so much life. You ducked around tress and dodged vegetation, giggling as the Dreamwalker loped after you, your amber eyes sparkling as you noticed that way that he switched between chasing you and admiring everything that he didn’t have on his own home planet. You sniggered and came to a halt, laughing as he absently lurched into you, his golden gaze stuck upwards upon a conspiracy of syaksyuk feasting on fruits some meters overhead, their blue and green patched skin good camouflage when they weren’t swinging through the trees or gliding through the air with their skin flaps.

“They will not hurt you, Tsyeyk Suli,” you commented.

Jake glanced down at you and then back up at the small-ish creature. He grinned and watched as a mother syaksyuk held her baby her front and was able to grab another fruit to feed herself and the infant creature with her other limb.

“Come,” you murmured, tugging on his arm.

Taking off into the trees, you came to one of your favorites and began to climb, nimbly scaling the moss-covered bark upwards. Jake was improving in skill and remained only slightly behind you as you both rose higher and higher up the gigantic sapling. And when you got to one of the top branches, he made a noise of awe, just as you had hoped to garner from him. You grinned and gazed out at the picturesque landscape of your forest and sighed, unable to imagine anything more beautiful than this. And in the distance, you could see Hometree, at least a dozen of ikran flying around its upper branches.

“When you are ready, Tsyeyk Suli,” you told the Dreamwalker, “you will perform your Iknimaya and bond with your own ikran. It is… a most freeing feeling… bonding and flying with them.”

“So, it is one of your all-time favorite feelings?” Jake asked, watching the dragon-like creatures dive and flap through the air playfully for a moment longer. You nodded and let out a contented sigh. The two of you sat down upon the moss-covered branch together, his knee brushing against the outside of your thigh and he asked you curiously, “What is another of your all-time favorite feelings? Or… uh, what is one of your favorite things to do besides flying? Maybe something we could do together?” You raised a naked brow bone at him and grinned as his sapphire cheeks flared a darker color and he stumbled over his words.

Was he attempting to flirt with you?

You grinned and asked, “Can you swim, uniltìranyu?”

And that was how you and Jake found yourself at your favorite swimming hole after another run through the forests. Luckily, there wasn’t very many people there to spoil your time with him, just a couple of mothers and their childlings at the far, shallow end of the lake and you dove into the refreshingly cool water, smirking as Jake sauntered into the water much more sedately behind you, a grin splitting his face nearly in half. You splashed him when he got too close and then it devolved from there, swimming around each other, smacking and throwing water at each other and just enjoying the day as you saw fit. His hands seemed to linger every time he got close to you, his grip possessive as he pulled you close before you escaped with a squeal each time.

When the two of you had begun to tire, you crawled out of the lake and settled upon the lush grass next to each other, his tail coming to intertwine with yours. “When I become a full member of the Omatikaya, what other kinds of things can I expect?” he broke the silence with that question. You rolled your head towards Jake and cocked a curious browbone at him. You admitted that you didn’t understand his enquiry and he sighed, rubbing at his face before trying again. Jake bit his lower lip and rolled onto his side, propping his chin upwards with a bent arm, his muscles flexing under your gaze. He explained, “I am only considered one of The People after my second birth, yes?” You nodded, agreeing with his question. “Once I am a full member… will I be allowed to… have my own home like I have seen others have?” You weren’t sure but you felt as if he changed his question at the last moment. You nodded again, expounding on his knowledge as you said, “You will be able to have your own kelku. You will also be able to choose a woman – or a man – to mate with as you like,” Jake smirked, “as long as they choose you in return, uniltìranyu.” His gaze swept over you and grinned, meeting your gaze with a heated set of golden eyes, “I have that to look forward to.” You flushed as he winked your way as well. Guess he really was trying to flirt with you after all… Not that you were complaining in the least.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 03 February 2024 Word Count: 927

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