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lurkingintheforest · 1 year
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robsmithjr · 2 months
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Swampy's Florida Postcards: Monkey Jungle Valentines!
This undated postcard by those simian individuals at Monkey Jungle in Goulds, near Miami. Plan a trip to this fascinating location where the humans are caged and the monkeys run wild by clicking here: https://www.monkeyjungle.com This postcard is part of the Swampy’s Florida collection. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . #Florida #Postcards #FloridaPostcards #Collectibles #History #FloridaHistory…
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swampysflorida · 2 months
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Swampy's Florida Postcards: Monkey Jungle Valentines!
This undated postcard by those simian individuals at Monkey Jungle in Goulds, near Miami. Plan a trip to this fascinating location where the humans are caged and the monkeys run wild by clicking here: https://www.monkeyjungle.com This postcard is part of the Swampy’s Florida collection. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . #Florida #Postcards #FloridaPostcards #Collectibles #History #FloridaHistory…
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Nothing to see here, folks. Just another black bear!
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creaturesfromelsewhere 1-25-2024
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evolutionsvoid · 5 months
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One of the Heraldic Beasts, the Swamp Devil is a species associated with Blood. As their name suggests, they dwell within swamps, lurking in the rotted waters and putrid waste. The species is widely feared, as they are extremely aggressive and see anything that has Blood as prey. Their boneless bodies hide in the vegetation and muck, waiting for victims to pass by. Their elastic tendril arms whip out at blinding speeds, snaring prey in a powerful grip. Strong muscles and barbed hand pads allow them to maintain an unbreakable hold, so that their main body can rush forth to feed. Victims are dispatched messily, as sharp teeth rip through Blood rich areas and it guzzles down the precious fluid greedily. The flaps around its maw allow it to suction on, making a seal to prevent liquid loss during the violent feeding. This species is incredibly fast and attacks prey and intruders without mercy. They are one of the main reasons swamps are dangerous to cross, and most folk avoid them if they can. When it comes to heraldry, the symbol of the Swamp Devil is one to be feared. It is one of ruthless nature, and incredible violence towards all who slight their house. There is a ferocity within this beast, and also a hint that these bearers may in fact thrive on this bloodshed. All should be worried when they encounter a house that bears this beast upon their crest, as they proudly show off their violent nature and their love of blade and Blood.
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Primates scare me and buddy this one ain't helping.
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ace-with--a-mace · 1 month
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going to bed late studying dement and kleitman
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spurgie-cousin · 1 year
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🔥
ok for a freestyle one I asked Mr. SC and he said pick a conspiracy theory you aren't completely sure is false so get ready to get weird:
my mom's family (incl my cult aunt for the OGs) lives up in Washington state, and I've had so many people tell me bigfoot stories over the years. Like firsthand, secondhand accounts, everyone from my family to cashiers at the gas station to doctors and it's convinced me that there's *something* weird going on up there 😂 like I don't know what it is, if there are hallucinatory drugs in the water or a weird species of bear or if there are really a species of tall hairy guys living in the Olympic forest, but I'll be damned if every other person you meet out there doesn't have a bigfoot story. It's made me curious 👀
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hisfluer · 10 months
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Okay, I've been thinking about this for so long and I figured I'd send it here. I think your blog is the one where transmasc psyche was brought up? And you associate her with moths? Well, as a West Virginia native, I present: Psyche Mothman?
psyche mothman sDFIGHS YES
maybe running at cars is the same as psyche threatening to drown herself in the river .. or perhaps mothman psyche is what happens if love rejects entirely and you're just kinda ... left on the side of the road to yell at people
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chariom-inactive · 1 year
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GOD THE COFFEES AND HIS IS SPILT AND HE FLIES AWAY
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curtvilescomic · 1 year
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Wöyh! - Suoapinan Jälkeläiset 
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williampaladin · 1 year
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ape orcs or pig orcs? I also drew my own race of orc. 
inspired by a wild boar and an orangutan :D
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lurkingintheforest · 2 years
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Not creepy at all...
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robsmithjr · 4 months
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A Pogo Christmas Song with a Florida note!
In the early 1960s the very popular comic strip, ‘Pogo’, included a little ditty that was titled ‘Deck us all with Boston Charlie’ and set to the tune ‘Deck us all with Balls of Holly’. The strip’s little nod at Christmas time became a cult hit and is still remembered today. Since the strip was set in Georgia’s Okeefenokee Swamp, it makes sense for creator Walt Kelly to mention a Florida locale.
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swampysflorida · 4 months
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A Pogo Christmas Song with a Florida note!
In the early 1960s the very popular comic strip, ‘Pogo’, included a little ditty that was titled ‘Deck us all with Boston Charlie’ and set to the tune ‘Deck us all with Balls of Holly’. The strip’s little nod at Christmas time became a cult hit and is still remembered today. Since the strip was set in Georgia’s Okeefenokee Swamp, it makes sense for creator Walt Kelly to mention a Florida locale.
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ededdneddy-artrefs · 1 year
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naffeclipse · 3 months
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What if Eclipse from AP was a naga? And this took place in the deep jungle of the amazon, where photographer y/n is trying to take pictures of the wildlife?
I'm vibrating at the speed of sound over this ask while also nudging my naga au
Naga Eclipse from AP would have the tail of a Green Anaconda, with an olive green scaly color dotted with black, framed by burning-like flares of orange along the length of his slithery body. He's also decorated with orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, slipper form. His upper half is scaley with a lithe deadliness to his musculature and decorated by frills surrounding his head with brighter orange-yellow colors, almost hypnotic in their gradient hues. One eye is deep emerald green, and one is midnight blue.
Lucky you—you're out on a once-in-a-lifetime expedition to explore a jungle closed off to the public, funded by Fazco, and occupied by two researchers who will be your bunkmates for the next few weeks. You're itching to take photos of the large river, including swamps, marshes and streams, and whatever wildlife is out there.
The few locals you did meet before you left to hike the rest of the way to what would be your new, isolated home warned you of a dangerous snake—a large, mythical beast. You take note of the local folklore. You understand the truth is hidden in there somewhere, and you are well aware of the dangers and diseases you could be met with in such a harsh environment, but you're determined.
It doesn't take long for you to feel eyes watching you when you first venture out by yourself. You take beautiful pictures of freshwater fish, big and beautiful, unlike any you have ever seen. Of course, you have hundreds of snapshots of the local flora, the trees, the floating meadows, the thick vines that drape each branch and hang thickly about the ground. You almost forget that you eerily don't feel alone.
But you swear something moves in the water—the ripples stop as soon as you look. The stillness is suddenly stiff, lifeless. Even the birds have stopped chirping.
You lower your camera and carefully put it away. A trickle of fear slips into your heart. You turn away from the river's edge only to be met by a low hiss and a creature, unlike anything you witnessed in your travels, spooling itself neatly out of the water, blocking your path to the base. An incredible creature with long arms and a great, serpentine tail that seems to stretch for yards and yards. You can hardly breathe in his presence—he's otherworldly with his frills and scales and fangs.
His eyes contain a mesmerizing shine as if staring into a fire as it burns or watching the ocean as it laps up against the beach, drawing your attention, demanding you don't look away. You couldn't anyway. Half-frozen, you struggle to keep from collapsing. He beckons with a sharp talon. He hisses softly for you to come closer, mouse. He wants to see you. You try to beg no without revealing how terribly you tremble. He doesn't let you go. He insists. His eyes flash with an allure. You almost step close when he murmurs that you need to be good.
But then your sense of survival kicks adrenaline into your heart, and you turn to run—
He strikes faster than your eyes can follow. Two loops of his green and orange tail surrounded you in an instant. You're dragged to the ground, your arms pinned under his mass, and the back of your head cradled by his large palm as powerful muscles squeeze you in the slightest—a gentle rebuke for thinking you could get away. You're hyper-aware of the terrifying bulk of muscles as you lie trapped in his coils. One strong twist and your eyes could pop out of your skull, and every bone protecting your heart and lungs would crumble to shards. You gasp. An urge to kick your legs and struggle erupts in your panic; a sinking feeling tells you it would only make things worse.
He coos over you, hissing and humming in an ancient song of the jungle you have no name for. When you whimper, he shushes you and strokes your cheek. He tells you how lovely you'll be. When you talk back to him, somehow finding your tongue amid your horror, you find out his name. Eclipse. He moves you more upright, resting you on his tail so you're not petrified by how vulnerable you feel lying down, but he never loosens his scaly bindings. He hovers over you. You gaze into his stunning frills of yellow-orange and wonder how a being like him came to exist. He studies you as you study him. He grins at how you shiver when he traces your collarbone with a sharp fingertip.
You remind yourself that you can still breathe. He hasn't crushed you—yet—but you don't like how wide his smile is. Sometimes, his jaw stretches a little too long as if dislocating from his skull, ready to devour you. His eyes gleam with a ravenousness as scales twist around you, holding you close enough to smell the slick green water he had been in and deep musk.
He tells you that he'll see you again very soon—away from other humans, lest you bring him a fine gift for a meal. You can only flex your fingers, silently pleading in your heart that he won't unhook his jaw and eat you alive.
Then, he unravels himself from your limbs. But before he lets you go entirely, he leans in close, his serpentine tongue flickering close to your neck and by your hair, tasting the air around you as you muster all your strength to not scream. He inhales deeply, pleased, before he murmurs, "Sweet mouse. You are mine. Say it."
You don't understand, but you echo his command, and when he taps your chin once in what might have been a loving gesture, you force your jelly legs to solidify before you run and run, all the way back to base. You slam the door to your room behind you. You touch your ribs, your arms, still caught in the heavy sensation of his loops as if he were upon you right now.
The stories are true—there is a giant snake in this jungle, and he wants you. You're afraid to discover if Eclipse's intrigue with you is only an exotic way to satisfy his hunger.
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