#Deep Sea Vision

[thepastisalreadywritten]

[montereybayaquarium]

😱 My, what big eyes you have! 

👀 The better to deep sea you with, my dear! 

In the infinite darkness of the ocean’s deepest depths, prominent peepers serve as nature’s night vision—capturing any available light to enhance visibility. Whether they’re searching for a meal or a mate, these oversized oculi are optimized to obtain oceanic observations for their owners! 

🎥: Deepest thanks to our research partners @mbari_news for the deep-sea footage!

[mo-mode]

Chiron: Welcome to Camp Half-Blood! Home to demigods of—

Me: Yeah yeah, which demigods can see the shrimp colors?

Chiron: Excuse me?

Me: You heard me. Who’s got the shrimp colors?

Chiron: Well, ah…Iris is the goddess of the rainbow, and Poseidon is god of the sea, but I don’t think—

Me: Give me the shrimp colors, horse man.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 299

Hear me out- Ghosts have wings. They have wings, which are affected by their cores, and can make them disappear from sight if they want or need to. You got that? Good. 

Ecto-contaminated people? Don’t have wings. Liminals and Halfas, who have developed cores? Do have wings, and they can’t hide said wings, because unlike ghosts? Their bodies are physical living flesh. 

Now Gotham? Ecto-contaminated, there’s no doubt about it. The amount of portals that have been opened there and death pits and death cults… yeah it’d be surprising if it wasn’t. But again, no one really notices, because at most? Most just get a bit of eyeshine. 

The Bats however? Oh man are they freaking out when they wake up with aches in their back and feathers starting to poke through their skin. Curse? Nope! Welcome to Liminality, enjoy the second puberty of wings, emotion-sharing, fangs, claws, and whatever else you might develop- also enjoy the whole eating fear thing. (Wait, the what-)

[puppyeared]

couldnt decide on drawing fish or horsies

[kcciny]

Idk how to explain it but Karna would look amazing as an deep sea creature

[rucow]

a while ago i started saving pics and clips of the sea/ocean into a folder just bc they look like him to me, and bc its gonna be good inspo for whenever i paint something 🥹

[darkfrog24]

Deep Blue Sea is Secret of NIMH, but the smart animals have a dumber leader. Discuss.

[maskyartist]

I wonder if I should do adopts…

[definitelynotshouting]

a way to make the grian shedding scenario even worse for him but also funnier: he gets helped out by a streaming rendog. curse of rendog's terrible accidental suggestive phrasing is in full effect. bonus suckiness and a watcher biology idea: if they're a lot like centipedes or the like they might have spiracles in addition to lungs and so gotta shed part of the lining of their respiratory system when shedding their skin. naturally ren will phrase helping grian with this in the worst way possible

WOXNWKDKS GODS...... AS IF HE'S NOT GOING THRU ENOUGH PAIN AND SUFFERING ALREADY....

So i did a LOT of brainstorming on Watcher biology last night, and what ive come up with is that since they aren't actually centipedes, there's not a real reason for them to shed their skin or anything like that unless theyre in the juvenile stage and growing into full adulthood. That being said though, im really liking the idea of them sometimes having to slough off code thats been deteriorated beyond repair, and that might very well look like shedding skin in some way-- i havent fully settled on the visuals for that. Some fun new Watcher biology facts for you though: Watcher eyes are all pupil, no iris. This is because the function of an iris is to control the amount of light that enters your eye, and the in-between is essentially like deep, deep ocean in terms of light; Watchers need all the light they can possibly get in order to help them see potential threats from a long ways off, so they adapted to have no iris in their eyes :]

[theemperesse]

2024 Vision Board pt.2💫

[bloodredx]

Day 23: Ritual (Magic)

The young mermaid held her tentacles out before her mentor, squeaking softly as her mentor took it by the hand. Musa was old, how old no one knew. Fewer would dare ask. Her scales held the sharp toothed grit of their species, but with an even rougher edge, one that only the most time soaked traditions could understand. And her she was in attempts to teach these traditions to Isiri. But the elder’s tentacles were no more, worn away and bitten by time, parasite, predator, and resistant prey alike.

Her hands were massive, easily as large as Isiri herself, but the young one was shocked to feel her tenderness with such an intimate act. Hand were special, rarely offered before other appendages, fins and tentacles alike. Left with no other options, Musa made no notice of any awkwardness. This was as intended, for she knew the Abyss better than anyone. Or so believed Isiri.

Flushing her gills, the young one felt the weight of her new role. One that she was only moments into indoctrination. Her body quaked, her heart racing in anticipation and unease. This wasn’t what was meant for her. Karina deserved this honor by all accounts. Her sister had been making efforts for it, Isiri hardly even considered the priesthood for more than a fleeting moment before she was off after some fleeting meal to fill her constantly empty stomach. The Spiral had chosen her of all her cohorts though. For some unfathomable reason. She couldn’t wrap her head around it, much less the tentacles now firmly grasped by one who may as well have been the Abyss herself.

The bottom of the Inner Sanctum was dark, for no light was allowed to enter here. Even her own bioluminescence was darkened here, and her only alertness to the other Deep Folk around her was the low and confident beating of their hearts that were tickling her sensory pores.

Musa started first, the note that honored the eldest there was low and soft, reverberating the resonance chambers in the structures with such elegance that they were more a sensation in the chest than an actual note in the song. But the rest joined in, adding their low timbres and finally account for a space of the highest register. A slot that was left for Isiri. The song felt hollow, empty without that recognition, that her personal song should be incorporated into this most sacred of the Spiral’s inner song. Sensing that the time had come, she could wait no more, she tightened her chest-sac and tightened her auxiliary gills.

The note came out soft, timid with nerves, but finally gained its fins and spread across the Inner Chamber, swirling and dancing with the others. The darkness before her deepened, and spread into shapes that were nearly tricks of her senses. The sensation of eyes other than those around her grew, as if she was being watched. But it wasn’t a threat, no. A vision came to her, the image of tiny little shapes, those small, alien things being eaten by small fish, those consumed by larger and larger things. Moving up into tuna, then sharks, finally orca. At some point, collections of smaller things were grouped into the mouths of great whales, who sank down and feel below to those who lingered dark and deep. But the sensation of eyes never left her. Her throat tightened, but she couldn’t let her song fade just yet, the others still sang on around her.

The darkness shifted again, this time shapes that she couldn’t recognize interrupted the dance of fish and beast. Each creature these shapes touch broke the silhouettes of the fish, the sharks, even the great whales. And none fell. None fell. None were falling. Two bright white eyes opened before her, and she quaked. Fear broke her notes, but the grip around her tentacles wouldn’t let go. Pain coursed behind her eyes, but she couldn’t look away. The song of the others kept pushing kept driving, but she felt so far away from the others now. It was just her alone, with these eyes looking on her. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she couldn’t. This was as much a part of her, as she was part of it. Her head pounded, the focus of the bright, white light seared into her massive, blue eyes. There were more voices, those she had never heard, songs odd and unknown. It all came to a tight, rhythmic beat. The din building and collapsing overhead, until all at once the full pressure of the seas were on her shoulders.

And she collapsed. Darkness overtook all, eyes, fins, tentacles and all. Silence cascaded like a flood, and she was alone. No, another thing was there with her. A sound she didn’t quite know. It was wet, but dry. A biological pattern she couldn’t place. A flash of white light took over.

Isiri awoke laid flat against a shallow shelf near the hydrothermal vents, her fins laid carefully out to absorb its healing warmth. Her head was splitting, and the sounds about were almost too loud for her. Had she just seen something? Was that all a dream? Was this some trick from the Spiral? Or was that the Abyss itself? She cradled her head in her hands, scrunching her body tight. Of course not, the Abyss wouldn’t bother with someone as low as her. A new priestess in a Spiral that half the members didn’t even want her there, the others just as confused as she was in their selection. She couldn’t shake the feeling that that vision was more than the side effects of the Spiral’s induction ritual gone awry. No, that felt more like looking in a mirror than into some current truth. The notion made her stomach twist. Isiri laid back down, trying to absorb the warmth of the stones for a few more minutes. Hopefully it would be some time before someone noticed she had woken up.

(OC-tober prompts by @oc-tober2023 can be found here.)

[conflictedkismet]

agent 8 and a sanitized octoling. they used to be friends but now have vague familiarity in place of memories.

[relatablemarine]

Here's one for those interested in the alternative style, the stoplight loosejaw or rat-trap fish (Malacosteus niger). This species sports the classic black colour scheme of the twilight zone and boasts one of the largest gapes of all fish. What makes this fish special is the pops of colour they incorporate in their wardrobe, including red bioluminescence. As many species in the twilight zone are unable to perceive red light this adaptation allows the fish to illuminate their surroundings without alerting their prey. The stoplight loosejaw is also one of the few animals to make use of chlorophyll, a green pigment commonly used by plants to absorb light energy. This rebellious fish deviates from the from other chlorophyll users however, concentrating a divertive of the chemical around the eyes in order to maximize their red colour vision.

[jeandejard3n]

The Abyss: Alien Secret Base

[nezuscribe]

it's that same summer when you're at the gojo summer estate, the one near the sea. you're still teens, long before gojo became arranged!gojo.

your last encounter with gojo was something you brushed off. but gojo couldn't stop thinking about you. you were this puzzle he didn't know how to figure out. this war map that no matter how long he looked at it, none of his past strategies were making sense.

but the two of you go about your usual routine. he's with his friends, and you stick to yourself.

or at least you tried to.

gojo's mother, the lady of the gojo family, was an earnest and strict woman. everybody knew that she wasn't one for games or jokes. she rarely smiled and rarely, rarely, laughed. you, along with all the other kids, knew to bow extra low whenever greeting her. she seemed to carry more power than her husband, but she didn't seem to find an issue with that.

but for a woman who was so keen on tradition, she seemed to care about you a lot more than the other children.

when she spoke to you, her eyes softened. her voice was gentler, more caring. your sisters especially grew annoyed at this, trying to butter up to her even more, but she seemed to harbor this sort of kindness only towards you.

you didn't question this either. it must be some form of pity, but you appreciated it nonetheless. sometimes you pretended like she was your actual mom, but then you quickly shook that thought away, chiding yourself for thinking something so childish.

this sort of gentleness she had with you turned into her trying to include you in things. some days it would be having tea with you when the other adults were having tea somewhere else, or sometimes she'd plan a little dinner with you where you could get dressed up and act like a lady.

tonight, however, she seemed to think that the best way she could include you was to include you in the group of the other kids, a gentle and guiding hand on your protesting back.

"really, i like the library," you insist, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. you had been inside the library for so many hours that you could blink and those high walls filled with books would be seared into your vision.

"nonsense," she tells you, her blue eyes and white hair looking down at your form as she waves it off, "the kids are outside near the fire. they'd be delighted to have you."

you cringe a little bit, wondering if she was just as daft as her son.

but she had found you near the fireplace, trying to stick its warmth as you hunched over yet another book. she decided that enough was enough, you should be out with the other kids.

so you couldn't say much to the woman who was hosting your family to argue, letting her lead you outside the grand patio and into the overbearing fields that led out to the sea, you soon saw the fire crackling away, the sound of laughter filling your ears.

some of the kids who were facing the two of you nudged the other ones to turn around, looks of confusion on their faces as the noblest lady of the land led a quivering you closer to them.

the usual look of caring she had whenever she was with you melted away, turning to something icy as the two of you neared the group. her hand on your back was still present, but you wished that it could somehow push you deep into the ground where you could hide forever.

her eyes looked over the group until they fell on her son, gojo, and narrowed.

everybody's eyes bounced from you over to her.

"there should be room for one more, yes?" she asks, and all the kids quickly nod, moving over on the logs that they had created into makeshift seats as they scrambled to make space for you.

you wondered what it was like to command such respect from people, what it must be like to have people actually listen to you.

she nudges you forward a little bit and you glance up at her one more time, a sort of useless plea as she encourages you to sit down.

you take a deep breath, offering them all an apologetic smile as you slowly sit on a log, your legs cramming together to make yourself seem as small as possible.

you watched as she walked back through the patio, talking to a maid as she motioned over to your group, saying something you couldn't make out, and you looked back to the other kids, the ones you had barely spoken a couple words to, and wince.

"sorry," you say slowly, your hands fidgeting non-stop in your lap as you laugh awkwardly, wishing you could just drop dead.

you can see your sisters seething in the corner, rolling their eyes as they sneer. the other kids nod at you just as tensely, and you wonder how disrespectful it would be if you just went back inside.

you feel a pair of eyes searing in the side of your face, and you look slightly to your right to see gojo staring at you, his eyes slightly squinting, just as his mother did.

you swallow thickly, picking at your nails as you send him a small smile before looking back down at your lap.

you could still feel him looking at you, but you chose to ignore it.

gojo doesn't really know why his mother liked you so much, but he never truly questioned her. she treated you with a tenderness he never saw her treat anybody (aside from him) with. he sometimes saw the two of you sharing tea with each other, other times hearing her laugh whenever you cracked a joke. something unusual for both of you.

his eyes look at your face, taking in the way you duck your head to seem smaller than you are. your eyes avert any contact, teeth gnawing on your already chewed-up lips. gojo looks at your hands, at the way you pick at your nails. he looks at your dress and sees the way the seams are fraying, the initial shape of the dress looking a little bit unfitting on you. almost as if it wasn't made for you specifically. his eyes narrow in more as he pieces it together. the dress is a hand-me-down from your older sister. not because your family couldn't afford a new dress, of course not, but to remind you of your place.

he feels a sting in his chest.

slowly the conversation with the group goes back to usual, the other kids pretending that you weren't there. gojo could feel the arms of one of the girls latched around his, her body pressing into his side as she tried to get closer to him. he wanted to shove her away, but didn't want to make a scene right now.

one of the girl shifted the talk to the topic of couples, talking about how she saw this husband and wife in town the other day who seemed to actually like each other.

one of your sisters, mei, snorts, shaking her head at the idea.

"us girls either marry an old man or a slightly older one," her eyes look over to you, "there's no in-between."

everybody grimaces at that, her other sister, yume, shoving her shoulder roughly at the crude statement.

"what?" mei scoffs, sitting back up as she nudges her chin to you, "she is."

yume gives her a warning look, one that's clearly saying she's saying too much, but mei doesn't seem to care much. everybody stirs, their heads craning with the thrill of gossip.

gojo looks at you and wants to see what you think about all this, but you're so far in your own world that you don't notice the commotion that seems to be directed at you.

mei calls your name, trying to grab your attention, and your head shoots up, brows furrowed to see who needs you.

"right?" she asks, knowing you don't know the answer.

you look around again, wondering if she was just trying to be funny.

"what?" you ask finally.

"you have to marry someone older, yeah?" mei presses, her eyes gleaming as your confusion melts away into one of embarrassment, looking at yume to see if mei was really serious.

of your two sisters, mei was always the mischievous one, if you could even call her cruelty that.

gojo sits up slightly, his brows scrunching up together a little bit at the mention of this. nobody had heard of any marriage offers, especially this early. you were still underage. who...?

you scratch at your neck, heat rising to your cheeks at the sudden attention on you.

"it was just an offer," you say through clenched teeth, shooting mei a look as she just smiles smugly. she knew she'd never have to deal with this.

"who?" one of the guys asks.

"nobody," you say quickly, waving it off as you rub a hand over your face, wondering if you threw yourself on the fire if that would help.

"naoya!" mei says instantly, your eyes widening as she reveals this very secret thing that even your father was trying to keep hushed away. you feel your stomach drop, eyes stinging in embarrassment as gasps echo around the group.

"isn't he...?" one of the girls tries to do the math, seeing how much older he already is.

"i heard he wants children," another girl adds, giving you a look of attempted sympathy but it just looks like a wince, "like, a lot of children."

you shut your eyes, rubbing at your aching forehead. you look briefly at gojo, only to see him looking incredulously at you. he's the only one who doesn't seem to be talking in a shocked or excited tone.

everybody gets excited about a terrible marriage offer when it's not them who have to offer themselves up.

he's studying you, seeming to be the only one who sees the way your chest is heaving, as if you're struggling to breathe. or the glossy look in your eyes, the way you dart them away so nobody can see. gojo looks over at mei, at the way she looks satisfied for delivering her piece of gossip for the night,

at your expense.

he doesn't know why he feels the way he does, or why he drags the girls arm away from him as he stands up, shrugging his coat over his frame as everybody suddenly looks at him.

but he's only looking at you.

"i forgot to give you your blanket from last week." he says simply, his voice heavy and coarse, as if he hadn't used it in a while, "come with me,"

well, he never said he was good at lying.

but he puts a steady arm on your shoulder, helping you stand up as you shoot him a confused look, letting him lead you away as the silence behind you becomes defeating.

you wipe at your nose, sniffling silently as he leads you through the grassy field.

he glances down at you. this is the second time the two of you have been alone, and the first time he's ever seen you on the verge of tears.

"thank you," you murmur thickly, rubbing at your eyes with your palms as you laugh wetly, "she wasn't supposed to say..." you trail off, looking away from him in embarrassment.

gojo guides you up the porch, behind a long marble pillar where the two of you are away from the other's curious stares.

he's never been good at comforting people, but he's never wanted to more than now.

"she's right, though," you say through a stutter, arms crossing at your chest as if that's what gojo was thinking about, "naoya, he-" you can't finish the sentence, the reality of it too heavy for you.

naoya proposed a month ago. a marriage offer for when you turn of age. he was desperate to find a wife, but not too many women were desperate to make him their husband. but your father needed the alliance, and your father's wife needed you away, so they swiftly agreed to it.

gojo's hand still hasn't left your shoulder, and he gives it a small squeeze.

"i'm sorry about this," you motion to yourself, laughing humorleslsy, "i didn't mean to...gods, i just...i don't want to be his w-wife," you admit quietly, shaking your head as you hide your face in your hands, "i-i don't want to have his children."

gojo feels bile rise to his throat at the thought of that.

he's only seen you twice. why does he care so much about what happens to you?

"somebody else will come along," he says in a whisper, and you look at him through your fingers, dropping them to your side as you blink slowly, rubbing at your cheeks.

"no good man wants to marry me," you tell him quietly, without any trace of pity for yourself, something that was simply the truth, "if not naoya, then another variant of him."

gojo leans down slightly to level with you, his lips pressed into a thin line.

you don't know why he's so close, or why he looks more worried for you than anybody else has. you shrug him off of you, trying to collect yourself as you peer through one of the large windows that look inside the estate.

"you can get rid of that blanket," you mutter, eyes darting from the window to his stunning blue ones, ones that make your knees slightly weak, "i was going to knit a new one anyways."

you bid your farewells, nodding lowly at him as you find your way inside.

gojo watches your back, looking back at the group as he runs a hand through his hair, gripping at his white locks in frustration.

he doesn't know what he's feeling. he doesn't know why he wants naoya suddenly dead. he doesn't know why he's not going to listen to what you just asked him to do, or why he wants to hold onto that blanket.

gojo doesn't know why you suddenly infiltrate his every waking moment, or why he needs to see naoya buried alive just so that you wouldn't have to marry him.

he doesn't know the answer to any of these things. but he doesn't know if he wants to.