#darken pigmentation

[dunglizard]

just went down a stupid rabbit hole of going to block one bigot, which led to me blocking other people on that blog, and so on and so forth, which is how I landed on THIS post:

“women who were famous in The Before Times were naturally beautiful” if you think about this for more than thirty seconds and still believe it you might be a fucking moron

[woundedheartwithin]

If I impress nothing else on people, I hope I can impress this: human eyes do not change color. They literally can’t. Eyes darkened with arousal does not mean the irises are actually literally darkening, it means the pupil has dilated significantly, which makes it look darker, because the pupil is black and when it’s blown out the iris contracts and become thinner, which means less color, which means a dark eye. It’s not literally changing colors

[evilmagician430]

slightly redesigned my sue + her getting acquainted with the more troublesome aspects of the acachalla household.

[mantisgodsdomain]

We're going to talk about our cool vampire guy headcanons again. We like to set Monsieur Scarlet as a member of Solenopsis invicta, albeit a very unconventional example of the species. As a fire ant, technically, he is venomous - however, he's not actually had venom production online for decades, and at this point the cost for Making That Bite Work Again far outweighs the perceived benefit.

Would it be directly useful for his survival to be capable of injecting people with venom that causes intense burning sensations? Yes, probably, especially since he's at a scale where the swelling induced would probably take out an arm for hours at a time. He's just not going to fix it, because that takes life force that he could be using for other purposes, like breathing, or keeping his heart running, or having an emergency teleportation stock so that he can fling himself a metre or two in any direction when need be.

[millennialskin]

My Skin is Getting Darker Without Being in the Sun?

Have you ever wondered why your skin seems to be getting darker even though you haven’t been spending much time in the sun? It’s a common concern and one that can leave you feeling puzzled and frustrated. After all, isn’t sun exposure the primary cause of changes in skin pigmentation? While sunlight certainly plays a significant role, other factors at play can lead to skin darkening even in the…

[tteokdoroki]

tw ! smut, mdni, aged up characters, corruption kink, fem!reader.

megumi is so into corruption and he almost hates himself for it.

he likes the shy girls with little to no experience who go all wide eyed and squirmy when they’re told something nasty. he likes the girls who’s brains get a little bit fuzzy when they’re praised for the first time, when calling them a good girl makes their lashes flutter and their skin warm up.

megumi likes the girls who need to be guided through big crowds or held up in tight spaces because they’re a little clumsy and might fall. he has a l dirty little thing for the ones who post pictures with their pouty, glossy lips and pictures the same pigment smeared along his lengthy dick — teaching them how to suck it just right, messing up their angel faces with tears and spit and all sorts. sometimes he likes to be needed by sweet, innocent things who wear their skirts a little too short and adorn those frilly ankle socks that are enough to drive a man like him mad.

maybe it’s a little gross of him, to prey on the weak and the pure — slaughtering them like a lion feasting on a lamb. he can’t help that he likes the way your the lace frills around your ankles socks dangle over his broad shoulders when fucks you deep and slow against your girly sheets, amongst your soft plushies and pillows.

he can’t help but to relish the taste of your drooly lips and the sound of your babyish tears when he hits that special spot along your sticky, wet insides. megumi wants someone to dote on, someone to press into the sheets and ruin for better ( or for worse ). he wants to be the one who teaches these precious little gems like you how to be bad and the perfect little fuck toy all for him.

flashes of guilt often cross his mind, makes his brows crease at the centre of his forehead midway through bending you over the edge of your bed and ploughing your poor pussy until there’s a darkened wet patch staining your sheets. he really shouldn’t be doing this, not to someone as innocent as you. who doesn’t know any better.

but then you cry out his name in warbled gibberish, reaching back for fushiguro’s large, veiny hand because you like being used by this and how he makes your legs tremble and shooting stars strike a path before your very own glossy eyes. you like this just as much as he does. and suddenly, megumi doesn’t care

because he’s found a twisted happiness in the idea of corrupting you so bad that no one else can satisfy the misguided, devious thoughts in your head. so that you’ll seek him out for pleasure and pain, because you know just what he likes and he’s taught you exactly what he wants you to like. <3

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[maked-artyshenanigans]

So, I saw this image on Facebook, and it was supposedly showing what Queen Nefertiti would have looked like in real life:

Now, I thought this AI generated garbage was just truly terrible on a number of levels; first off, she looks wayyyyyy too modern - her makeup is very “Hollywood glamour”, she looks airbrushed and de-aged, and as far as I’m aware, Ancient Egyptians didn’t have mascara, glitter-based eyeshadows and lip gloss. Secondly, her features are exceptionally whitewashed in every sense - this is pretty standard for AI as racial bias is prevalent in feeding AI algorithms, but I genuinely thought a depiction of such a known individual would not exhibit such euro-centric features. Thirdly, the outfit was massively desaturated and didn’t take pigment loss into consideration, and while I *do* like the look of the neck attire, it's not at all accurate (plus, again, AI confusion on the detailing is evident).

So, this inspired me to alter the image on the left to be more accurate based off the sculpture’s features. I looked into Ancient Egyptian makeup and looked at references for kohl eyeliner and clay-based facial pigment (rouge was used on cheeks, charcoal-based powder/paste was used to darken and elongate eyebrows), and I looked at pre-existing images of Nefertiti, both her mummy and other reconstructions. While doing this, I found photos of a 3D scanned sculpture made by scientists at the University of Bristol and chose to collage the neck jewellery over the painting (and edited the lighting and shadows as best as I could).

Something I see a lot of in facial recreations of mummies is maintaining the elongated and skinny facial features as seen on preserved bodies - however, fat, muscle and cartilage shrink/disappear post mortem, regardless of preservation quality; Queen Nefertiti had art created of her in life, and these pieces are invaluable to developing an accurate portrayal of her, whether stylistic or realistic in nature.

And hey, while I don't think my adjustments are perfect (especially the neck area), I *do* believe it is a huge improvement to the original image I chose to work on top of.

I really liked working on this project for the last few days, and I think I may continue to work on it further to perfect it. But, until then, I hope you enjoy!

Remember, likes don't help artists but reblogs do!

[normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke]

my skin in the sun really said *uneven and slightly grey "tanning"*

[quarterlifekitty]

I eat up the little mermaid au. Is there more that you can tell?

Uhhhhhmmmmm teehee. Yes.

First off I think of reader as a sea angel mermaid.

It’s part of why Simon is so obsessed with her. He lives in complete darkness most times. He’s a killer. But you’re delicate. Luminescent. You are, to him, an angel. And quite small. Because I have a size kink.

It’s a less extreme difference when you’re given a human body. You don’t glow in a literal sense anymore, but Soap can still see that you’re radiant. And when he sees you in the cave by the sea, beneath Ghost, he sees the bioluminescence in your chest, and all he can think is that it makes sense that this is the real you.

As for more of the story, Ghost dives back into the water almost as soon as he sees you running from Soap (he plans on coming back for the human later, perhaps. If he feels curious.)

Your body goes back as soon as it’s surrounded by seawater. So does his. It doesn’t take him long to get to you, and he’s eager to have you make good on your deal. His tentacles wrap around you as your tears are lost in the current of the water.

“There, angel,” he comforts, “you don’ have to worry about the world up there ever again…. You’re mine now, little princess.”

“You want to eat my heart, Ghost?” You ask with a quaver in your voice, “please. Do it quickly. I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

“Your heart will stay where it is. Where I need it to be. I’ll keep it safe for you, angel.”

He takes you back to his cave. The walls lined with glowing souls, beating hearts— every precious thing that a person has to give. He surrounds you all the time, caressing you and keeping you held tight against him.

“You don’ remember me, angel, but I remember you. I remember being denied. And everything falling apart…. But I’m gonna take back everythin’. Startin’ with you, angel. And you’re not gonna get away from me a second time.”

The time he spends preparing you for the bonding ceremony is time you barely recognize as passing. The heartbreak turns you into a passenger in your own body, and Ghost has no qualms with taking advantage of your being so pliant. The sooner you’re mated with him, the sooner he can make you forget about the world above. The sooner he can make it so that you only have eyes for him.

Normally, this is the kind of things your maids and sisters would have done with you. Stringing the pearls, weaving and braiding the charms into your hair, painting designs in ink and pigment across your skin— the crest and colors of the royal family he once represented. He takes great care in staining your skin with each design, entwining the symbology of your kingdoms with motifs of shells, corals, waves— a long held tradition. The patterns on your flesh tell a story, one that results in your union. He spends almost a full day on its completion, and another two waiting for it to darken as the stain sets in your skin.

In the time he concentrates, you keep silence between you rather than conversation. But your minds both drift to the same man with blue eyes that wanders the shores.

[389]

Nepalese Lingzhi Fungus Mask, probably 19th century

This extraordinary mask has been formed from a large, single Lingzhi fungus (Ganoderma Lucidum). The natural structure of the fungus has been coaxed into forming a nose, ears, a mouth and eyes. Two holes on either side allow for a natural twine to have been threaded through so that the mask can be either worn or hung for (perhaps) ritual display. The surface is hard, glossy and dramatically wrinkled. It is believed that such masks were worn ritually to frighten off malevolent spirits. Most extant fungus masks are of black (or blackened) Lingzhi fungus. Pannier (2009, p. 68) illustrates a mask translated as a ‘mushroom’ mask which appears to be made from a single fungus – possibly a Lingzhi – but coloured with red pigment. Nepalese fungus masks are rare. Dating them is difficult. There are few in private or museum collections. The surface is glossy and encrusted with a varying patina suggesting some significant age. Possibly it was darkened with soot although there is no residual smokiness present. The example here is in an excellent, stable condition with just the odd small loss to the extremities as might be expected. The texture is hard and robust rather than crumbly and friable. It has a wood-like consistency.

[honeykaes]

le sacrifice du sang

vampire!neuvillette x reader II 2.6k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, vampire au, set in 17th century esc france, blood, biting, ritual sex, self harm (neuvillette cuts his wrist for the ritual), soulmate, xenophobia, praise, creampies, monsterfucking adjacent, unedited

synopsis: for decades the village has been thriving despite the vampiric armies ravaging throughout europe. Cast aside for being an outsider, you are deemed as a sacrifice to a vampire lord to stop the attacks in the region.

Night seemed endless. Most days you would barely see the sun bright outside under the sky. All you could do was sigh, shifting on the soft sheets of the grandiose bed you rested in. A long chiffon nightgown covered your form and rested right at your ankles. You balled your fists on the ornate patterns of the comforter of the bed, golden and navy threads showing off just how much it was worth.

You turned your head to the stained glass window seeing the sun hiding behind the horizon and stars beginning to peak out in the darkening sky—the multicolor light pigmented in blues and purples reflected on the ground as its shadow grew signaling the fleeting light.

Part of you is surprised you're up so early in your new sleep schedule but another part of you questions why you’re even alive right now to look outside the stained glass window. Three weeks ago you were set to die, yet you have lived in the lap of luxury.

All because of him.

Vampires have been ravaging Europe for a few decades now, causing an all-out war in some regions of the land. Your family insisted on heading there despite it, as traders would surely flourish against the nobles desperate for supplies and your nativity allowed you to follow them. 

Trying to settle and trade in Europe began in disaster as xenophobia grew rapid—war, fear, and prejudices clouding their judgment. You lost your family very early on when you arrived in Europe, losing a lot and trying to scour and try to collect wherever you could to mourn and live. France became the best option to live in since the fighting was beginning to cease in the country.

In the southeast part of the region, you settled in a village. You remained there for five years, trying to make ends meet as a seamstress. You always wondered why vampires didn’t attack and slaughter you and the rest of the village as you heard others had faced. The village had not seen an inkling of the dissipating war around it, and you later discovered why.

To appease the vampiric lords and ladies of France, human sacrifices were commenced—one to save all. You weren’t completely sure who the lord of this area even was, yet you were about to find out after the Judge of the town deemed yourself as the sacrifice.

You begged, you pleaded, you cried but no one in the town so much as pitied you. In their eyes, you were an outsider; someone even more worthy of being sacrificed than “one of their own”. Bullshit is what you wanted to say but you didn’t have the power to defy it.

That man eventually collected you after, the lord of the southern region of France—Monsieur Neuvillette. When he descended, in navy and black, you thought he was an angel and thought the village already killed you thinking he was an angel instead. 

He didn’t seem human at all. 

Long white hair cascaded down his back and lowly tied towards the end with streaks of gradient blue flowing through it. His lavender eyes, pupil slit, and irises glowing, drinking up every unconscious tick and stubble expression in your body and face. His face was stern, but his eyes seemed kind.

He asked you one question that night.

“What is your name, dear?” 

You answered as his eyes softened, lifting his hand to your eyes to cover your gaze

“Then, (Y/n). I’m sorry circumstances have brought us here.”

Darkness was all you were faced with. In a way, you thought death had arrived, only to wake up in a beautifully decorated room in a château when you awoke.

Neuvillette was kind albeit stoic during your time in his château. Many nights, you���d have dinner with him—his eyes just on you as he quietly drank his silver chalice filled with the iron-rich stench of blood from someone who wasn’t you.

Those nights he would reveal more information about himself and you’d do the same. He told you how he was a lord and has been “in this state” for several millennia. He told you about the rise and fall of empires and even vampiric ones history had all but forgotten. 

Neuvillette also discussed how most of the sacrifices ended up working as servants in the château who he called “Melusines”. 

In the second week since your “sacrifice”, he also mentioned another vampire lord living in this château—Lady Furina. He talked about how eager she was to interact with her subjects, including yourself but he had told her to stay away from you for now as her bloodlust was unpredictable.

But one slip of the tongue had changed the casual conversation into something more serious.

“...She is not to bother you, yet. Not before you are turned at the least.”

Your eyebrow furrowed, lips parting hearing him say those words. Turning? Turning into what?

“What do you mean by that…” you questioned. He placed his chalice down, closing his eyes briefly to collect his thoughts before crossing his arms.

“I apologize. I have neglected to inform you about this since I wanted you to get adjusted to your new life here first,” he murmured. You clenched your jaw, trying to read his stoic expression but it was the same as it’s always been. 

“I admit I played a role in why the Judge had chosen you specifically. When you first settled in the village, your scent informed me that you were my mate. My soulmate,” he replied. You couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing in shock. 

“Smell me? Soulmate? What does that even mean, Neuvillette?! I thought vampires only were interested in other vampires and humans were seen as food. That’s why there’s a war in the rest of Europe after all,” you shouted. He did not flinch at your raising pitch in tone. He gave a small humorless laugh at your words.

“That’s not exactly true. A curse befalls vampires and those with vampiric natures in more than one way than ‘evolving’ from their human characteristics. The same people many see as food can be the only chance to find their mate. Whether unconsciously or not we are always searching, our body craves the touch and affection only our mates can give us, soothing one might say, the soul,” he revealed.

You look down at your plate, half-eaten cake on it before gently pushing it away. There was a pause where no one said anything, but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat thumping rapidly in your chest.

“...Are you scared? Do you need some time to process this? We can save the rest of this conversation later,” Neuvillette discussed. You swallowed, trying to ease the dryness that caught your throat suddenly but refused to look him in his eyes for now.

“H-How would this process work exactly? I’m guessing vampires and mortal humans don't mix well,” you muttered. Neuvillette sighed, grunting in agreement.

“Well. There’s a ritual in a sense to create a bond between each party’s body and soul. The ritual entails copulation and when my fangs pierce your skin in the process. It will signal to both your body and soul that your bond with me has been found and eventually your physiology will adjust into something more like me.”

“...Something that of a vampire,” you whispered, looking up at him. He silently nodded as silence befell the two of you for now. Neuvillette let out a heavy sigh, but the corners of his lips curved into a small smile to try to ease the pain you were faced with.

“I recognize this is a lot for any human to face, so please take as much time as you need. There is no rush, so process however long it will take,” he said, rising from his seat and leaving you alone with the crackling fire in the dining room. 

It had been a year since that night he revealed himself as your soulmate. A year to finally process and accept your fate. You chuckled to yourself finally seeing the sun’s light completely disappear and the moon rising brightly in the sky.

Tonight you would mourn your mortality.

A knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts and memories before you called out they could enter. Neuvillette walked in, wearing his own nightgown falling to his ankle, body completely covered in the white chiffon fabric. He stood by the door still, letting you have your space that was resting on the bed.

“Are you sure you are ready? We can wait later to do this. I can wait,” Neuvillette murmured. You flashed a shaky smile before sighing.

“Yes. I am Neuvillette. I promise,” you replied. Neuvillette walked over until he was in front of you, long fingers clasping gently as your chin before lifting it up. Your lips parted in shock gazing into his eyes that softened.

“I’m going to ask one more time, are you sure you’re ready,” he asked, voice low and husky. Your body trembled at the tone of his voice before you slowly nodded your head—you could hear your eardrums echoing out the beat of your quickening heart. 

You slowly lifted your nightgown off and the fabric pools on the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable to his gaze and touch. He followed, letting his nightgown fall onto the floor. His body was more muscular than you thought based on the attire you usually saw him adorning in the halls. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.

Neuvillette softly smiles leaning in to press his lips against your own. He soon is on top of you, the bed creaked as the weight of two bodies pressed against it. His lips were soft, easily molding on your own while ever so often a sharp pain would poke at your bottom lip. 

“If I’m being honest, I never thought I would experience this. You don’t know how long I waited for this...how I longed for you,” he whispered, as his lips eventually left your own, settling in the nape of your neck. Your body trembled as Neuvillette let his fangs graze against the sensitive skin while his hand traveled down and squeezed the plush of your thighs. 

He finally finds your cunt, cupping his hand at it as he continues to nipple and his along your neck. He soon applied pressure and your hips instinctively began to grind trying to get a lick of friction to brush against your needy clit. Feeling you grind on his hand made Neuvillette chuckle before he opened his eyes admiring the slick now clinging to his palm.

“So pliable under my touch, I’m glad you're enjoying yourself,” he whispered in your ear, hearing another moan rip from your mouth. He soon shifted his position; his thumb now firmly pressed against the nub of your clit pressing tight circles on it. Your form began to twist and your hips shifted as Neuvillette’s hand followed every movement, not budging his focused ministrations once.

His other thumb brushed against your pebbled nibbles, relishing in the way your body jolted from the various sensations. Your breathing became heavy, feeling your entire body flutter inching closer and closer to your high.

“Neuvillette. Neuvillette…I’m—” you groaned out before suddenly Neuvillette completely stopped. You snapped your eyes open in surprise, looking over at him perplexed as his gaze softened and lips tugged in a smile.

“Why did you stop…?” you whispered, puzzled by his actions. Neuvillette leaned in to kiss your forehead while cleaning the slick clinging to his fingers on his thighs as it smeared.

“I needed to make sure you were prepared for me. The ritual unfortunately cannot work if you lose yourself to my fingers, mon cœur. Unless you preferred to wait as I asked earlier,” Neuvillette hummed. You bite your lip, in embarrassment as Neuvillette grasped his cock.

It’s thick, and long and the only vein you could see ran along the base of it. His cock curled up and twitched every few seconds, eager for attention. He let out a grunt, pumping his cock a few times as his tip—flushed pale pink—budded with precum. He rested his length against your slit, letting it slide up and down and gathering the arousal drooling out of your cunt. He let his tip tap against your stimulated clit causing you to shiver before he nestled it against your entrance once more.

As he pushed the tip inside of you, he leaned down, capturing your lips once more before sinking his cock further inside of you. Your nails harpoon against his broad back and you widen your legs wider trying to adjust to his length. Your walls burned at the stretch, trying your best not to tense up as he descended further inside of you.

Finally bottoming out, he slowly slid out before plunging in once more, thrusting with meticulous but strong strokes. Your body moved to his pace, bed beginning to moan and creak while hitting against the wall. 

He grunted louder in the kiss, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to contain himself. He leaned up as you tried catching your breath, stammering his name as his breathing became heavier while his thrusts became faster.

Neuvillette parted his mouth to let his fangs elongate before they buried themselves in the nape of your neck. You yelped, sucking a sharp breath in as the pain of his bite throbbed and shot throughout your entire body. You could hear him gulp and moan, sucking the river of blood pouring down at the wound while he continued to rut inside of you.

“Neuvillette…” you whispered out. It was strange. The pain had somehow subsided and your body felt much lighter and aware of his touch and thrusts, trembling in newly found sensitivity and pleasure. It was as if the bite was an aphrodisiac.

Were all bites like this or was it because he claimed to be your soulmate?

He lifted his head, lower face bloodied from the meal he was indulging in—your humanity. His tongue seemed longer, letting it rest against the wound before taking a long stride up to lap up the rest of the blood dripping from the punctures.

Your walls fluttered down on his cock as your writhed, Neuvillette continued to buck—desperate to sink even further inside of you. He sucked a breath in, struggling to keep up with his pace as your walls continued to cave and clamp down.

Neuvillette's hands find themselves beneath you, squeezing the globes of your ass before lifting your bottom half in an attempt to plunge deeper inside of you. His eyes narrowed watching his cock stretch and disappear in your cunt.

“That’s it…you're almost there. Let me see you come undone. Let’s begin our lives together for eternity in the darkness…” Neuvillette muttered, clenching his jaw tight. You squirmed, tears pricking your eyes as you finally reached your high—body shivering and back arching while calling out his name repeatedly. Your walls quivering from your climax were enough for Neuvillette to follow.

He snapped his eyes shut, hips flattering letting ropes of his thick cum shoot inside of it. He slowly thrust, pushing it deeper, trying to nurse his body down from his high. A trial of his essence managed to leak out, and travel to your inner thighs despite his cock still plugged inside of you.

“Just one more step…please bear with me and stay away,” Neuvillette whispered, placing your hips down on the bed once more. His nails, sharper than before, quickly shut themselves on his wrist—his blood dripping down his forearm. Your eyes and body felt so heavy, your body feeling like your heart was slowing down before you noticed him hovering his injured wrist above your mouth.

Droplets of blood trickled down your chest and chin before finally landing in your open mouth.

As you swallowed, your eyes widened feeling an unknown rush flowing throughout your body replenishing your once tired body so suddenly.

“It…it doesn’t taste like iron, but as if your blood is the purest spring water…”

[plumipal]

Omg who is she?

She’s so pretty.

She has twice the wings Eden has. Idk what that means but it probably means something.

Also her name being Lilith… guys I’m sensing pattern here. Are you keeping another one named Adam locked in the basement?

Is she maybe his sister? I mean you can’t just drop a new bit of lore and run away. Explain yourself. Please? Pretty please with a cherry and cream on top? It would be much appreciated and desperately looked forward to.

Little side note who hurt my boy Eden in the second picture? Was it Lilith? If so her likability just dropped of dramatically.

Chat, meet Edens... Sister.

HER NAME IS LILITH!!!

So to even start this off, they are NOT human (I know, shocker). They're children of the stars, serving to protect and help the stars shine as bright as they do. Becasue of defects on both of them (the extra parts near their star core, making them unstable), they were cast out of the colony, cursed to wander the endless galaxies.

I know no one has wondered why Eden has a huge scar on his back or why he even got into the twst universe in the beginning, BUT LET ME TELL YOU ALL! It's her fault.

After a childish spat where it ended with Eden reaching for his weapon to strike her, she instead grabbed for hers and beat the ever living shir our of him, sending him flying to hopefully kill him. This resulted in him reaching the atmosphere of the twst world, crashing down (like a fallen star) into ramshackle around a week before the prefect arrived.

He was passed out for a week, motionless untill y/n, grim and crowley discover him in a vacant room in ramshackle, waking him up and tending to his wound.

So yeah this blond little bitch is the reason we have Eden in the twstverse mmm...

A look at the weapons, they both serve to be protection incase the star they serve gets attacked. The little vacant spot on the spear is for the core to be put in, aka their little star in their chest, the source of their power.

They can take it out, the spear acting as a magicpen sorta to help with their "magic" and being able to direction it. Don't take the core too far away from them tho, it serves as someone cutting off oxygen or blood flow ro us, easy kill on them.

Lilith has a few more wings on hers than a normal one does, just like her defect. This was becasue of a power imbalance, leading to her absorbing way too much power compared to the others during her creation, leading to her being very dangerous (basically a ticking timebomb).

Also a look again on Edens scar that Lilith caused. She foes not feel sorry for that, nor does she feel sorry for burning half of edens face off (first panel whre he is badly damaged, don't worry he will regenerate quickly).

You may also notice her wings being lighter, and that is becasue of their "purity" of other magical influences. Edens darkened quickly during his first week in twst, the blot around him forcing its way into the pigment. This also depends on how easily they adapt with other living beings, with Eden easily being able to copy and show humane emotions.

The love and devotion he feels for you is something he felt similar to his creator while he served the star, that love however turning more dark and twisted because of him copying the environment around him (aka the other twst men into you lol). He is also very heavily inspired by a raven, whish is why he has this "copying easily" ability.

Meanwhile Lilith is meant to resemble more of a dove, elegant and beautiful. Will she be romanceable? We will see...

One thing to make clear,

EDEN FUCKING HATES HER GUTS!! DO NOT PUT THEM IN THE SAME ROOM ONE OF THEM WILL DIE-

Thank you for coming to my Eden Ted talk I will be here all week.

[amber-tortoiseshell]

Temperature-sensitive colors

The temperature-sensitivity of certain cat colorations is a spectacular phenomenon. Different parts of the cat will show different shades, since the efficiency of pigment production now depends on the local temperature, so it works better on the extremities than on the body.

Here's a picture of the heat emmission pattern of a cat, and next to it a photo of a colorpoint kitty:

Source: this video

It really is similar, isn't it?

You can follow this effect on kittens: before they are born, they bath in the even warmth of the womb, so first they’re evenly white colored, then quickly start to gain their marks: first only on the nose, the ears and the tail, only later a full mask and darker legs.

The development of Best Angel's Fernando, a black point mitted ragdoll:

Mink and sepia cats also do this, but they are darker at every given point then their pointed equivalents.

Meowmar’s Hel, black sepia burmese:

This temperature sensitivity works on adult cats, too: if a cat loses some of its fur for some reason, and later it grows back, it’ll be noticeably darker then the surrounding area, because the naked skin means the temperature is lower there.

This cat from messybeast had a leg injury that needed surgery, so now he wears pants until the next molt.

An interesting question is whether the karpati pattern is temperature-based or not. It often called "reverse colorpoint", because the most whitish areas are suspiciusly the same as on colorpoints: limbs, face, ears. It also changes most in the first months - however the direction of the change is the same: they born light and darken with age.

The development of Pablo Grey Heart, a black karpati transylvanian cat (he's one of the lighter kittens I believe):

[fawnpires]

SEEKING HEAVEN — SIMON "GHOST" RILEY.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ synopsis: with two kids and a drained father's responsibility, he wasn't completely certain on the idea of becoming a father again; until you brought it up.

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ contents: single dad!ghost, afab reader (afab anatomy, femme petnames), daddy kink, dirty talk, spit kink, creampie, age difference, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, possessive!ghost, rough sex, multiple orgasms, belly bulge, neck biting & kissing, overstimulation.

Ghost wasn't the one to be a father, a parental figure to any child at that. He thought of himself as too brutal — too much violence and the blood of men tainting his hands to take on a role of a more softer, paternal nature. Although, once in a relationship with you, he had already had two girls of his own and all of those second-thoughts were pushed into a consideration that he thought would've never crossed his own perspective.

The thought of giving you a family, which had been brought up by yourself a couple times on occasion, was a constant thought in his head; even if he wasn't fit for it. He loved it — the concept of bending you over any kind of surface or even up against the wall to breed you, your cunt so full and stuffed around his big cock that was enough to put you under a trance of euphoria. How your moans and noises of pleasure would be so soft and beautiful to his ears, a symphony of angelic sounds that spill without shame. On his end, instead grunts would fall from his lips and twist with your own noises like a distorted harmony.

He didn't care if he didn't want it — to be a father again, to have a few more children. He would be on his best behavior to teach himself on how to put himself in that right position, mastering it overtime just to have that abstraction of a perfect, little family with his most beloved girl.

The clustered up thoughts made him act like a teenage boy again. His throat dried, drool pooling inside his mouth, eyes blankly boring into the nearest wall to project these thoughts into a mindful image.

"Simon?" your voice speaks like an echo, like an out-of-bound tune while your arm grasps and shakes his forearm a little as you settle on his lap, "Did you hear me?"

He would surge from the state of distraction, blinking slowly at the aimed wall before he rests his sights on you. His hand rests at the lower section of your back, the lids of his eyes half-lidded with a touch of his darkened pupils behind them. You slope your head to the right of your shoulder, the skin around your eyes creasing with the small grin perched on your lips. A faint laugh hushes at the back of your throat as the hand at his forearm loosens up, fingers brushing at his tattooed flesh.

"I'm sorry, angel, what were you saying?"

"I want a baby, Simon." you near-whisper, "Your baby."

Through that mask, concealed and veiled, you knew and it was clearly obvious; the way the fading black pigment alluded to pale skin complimented his dim eyes with an assumed hidden grin. The hand at your lower back starts in circles, gentle and careful.

"You really want that, lovie?" he asked, the globes of his eyes examining over you. For a while, you're too lost in him to answer — putting thought into the reply. He's patient and only handles you like porcelain on his firm lap, cradling at your body with a single arm at your back.

You close the last gap of space between you and him. "I really do," you said with a tone of half-desperation, "I really want this."

In hesitation, he clenches his jaw and bites the skin of his inner-cheek. As much as he was lacking the confidence to step into the role as a father yet again despite being low of the built-up responsibility, that doe look in your eyes was hard to deny or even ignore past right in front of him. Abandoning his life of barbarity and military could be easing, he thought, something to distract him. Easily, he gives in with a heavy huff under his breath and pulls you right against him.

"If that's what you want, doll..." he said, "Then be it. I'd do anything to make my sweet girl happy."

-

With the open expanse of where you two previously resided, it was just no good for the privacy of trying for a baby, so it brought you comfort that Ghost practically manhandled you from his lap and into his arms to the bedroom. He didn't waste time anytime throughout this; hence your clothes practically being ripped off of your laid posture at the center of the mattress. The next couple of hours are immersed in a room clouding in the atmosphere of sex; sweat, that fulfilled symphony of pretty moans and grunts, and the intoxicated high of lost-counted orgasms.

Your legs have gone sore and completely influenced with a numbness from being mantled on his shoulders for some leverage. His bruising fingers needled into your sides each time he pumped his cock up into your sensitive, soaked cunt along with a low grunt.

"You still doing okay, love?" he grunts while eyeing your bare figure through his half-lids. One of his hands move up to your lifted leg and strokes the skin gently, his head slanting forwards, the fingers from his other hand coming to lift the bottom of his mask to the tip of his nose before resting back at your side. An amount of spit dribbles from his puckered lips and right at your already-drenched, puffy lips. You whimper at the sensation, your noises ultimately evolving into a whine while he pulls out and uses the head of his cock to smear the spit that rests at your cunt.

After a few moments of smearing and whimpering, he finally plunges himself back into the warmth of your walls yet again. You're tight again, squeezing around him and savoring each vein and pulse when he's inside. His head slightly rests at your leg, gathering the chance to leave a trail of kisses at the sweat-sheen skin.

"Always so welcoming for me, so tight and ready for me to fill this sweet pussy up. Is that all you want, yeah? For me to stuff this pussy and give you my babies? You want me to stuff this cunt all full of me, doll?" he questions with a heavy accent, almost taunting. "Tell me, use your big words, honey."

"Yes! Daddy... please, want your baby so bad." you drag out your words with a followed whine. "...wanna be your girl forever."

His slower, subtle thrusts advance into more aggressive and ones full of brutality at your pleads. Your fingers grip at the crumpled sheets below while pushing your head back up into the cotton of the pillows. He hunches over you and blankets your entire structure, his lips meeting yours into a sloppy and vile manner.

"Yeah, angel?" You wanna be my girl forever?" he asks and you nod fervently with a hum, "That's right, I know you do. Going to be such a good mommy, so pretty all round for me."

He straightens himself back up and adjusts your legs that hold up at his shoulders. Heaven was the perfect word to describe the ongoing situation at your thighs; his moans right to your ears, the scent of his cigarette smoke and cologne all around, and the absolute condition of ecstasy he has you sent into for this time. A cuss is heard under his muffled breaths when his cock is felt and inched deeper into you, prodding at your cervix and suffocating in the comfort of your walls.

Through the aligning tears and blurred vision, you manage to glance down your body and make out the bulge that swells with each of his hostile thrusts. Shakily, you extend out a hand and press against the center of your stomach where that bulge is most visible. He pushes your hand away and does all the work for you — both pressing on the outline of his cock at your stomach and pounding right into your sensitive cunt. Your arms go limp to your sides, nails etching into your palms.

“You look so pretty like this,” he breathes, “All for me. Just for me.”

A whine comes into response, since it was all that you could give — that, or it was a moan or a whimper. Your insides feel raw, battered with each harsh pump of his cock up into you. There’s an ache but soon subsides with the rest of the euphoric waves that you fuel on. Your hands find purchase around his torso, practically forcing him to hunch back down over you while you dragged your nails down the naked skin of his scarred back. Marks that almost gleam of blood adorn him. In return, he tilts his head to your neck and kisses the skin before baring his teeth into the skin and gently lapping over the marks with the muscle of his tongue.

“You wanna come for me, sweetheart?” he said, eyes to yours while his palms were flat at each side of your head, “I know you can, I’ll fill you up and you’ll carry my most perfect babies. The perfect mother to my kids already, our kids.”

Your cunt squeezes around him like support, lines of moans falling from your tongue. His muscles are tensed, hips smacking against yours in an aggressive manner which happens to stimulate your clit all at the same time.

You breathe. “Simon, daddy… fuck,” you quiver, “Please fill me up, want that so bad. Fuck me full of your babies, please…”

“Is that it, angel? You want this?”

“Please!”

His hands move to grope at your breasts, then moving up to your face where he caresses the skin lovingly. A chorus of skin-on-skin, his entire upper-half bowed over you, your face tucked into the crook of his shoulder as the fabric of his balaclava rubbed into the side of your face while his exposed mouth kissed at your neck. Every short of a thrust into your cunt only caused your fingers at his back to tear into the muscles of his back.

"Keep your eyes on me, sweetie." He hoists himself back up to give a better perspective of you underneath, your legs frail on his shoulders while your head blurs of bliss and a faint dizziness, persistent gasps streaming from your mouth. Your body stutters every so often with his own. "Just like that, want you to look at me when I fill this pretty pussy all up, put a baby in you-"

Your stomach spasms at his praise, his words of promise. There's a sensation of fragility at your cunt once your orgasm is brought down upon your body, only managing a mere noise that is ripped from your throat — something between a loud gasp and a whine. Your cunt compresses around his rapid, pulsating cock as your legs seem to go stiff. A burst of liquid is aimed, flooding your walls and extends to an area much deeper, his load is thick and gives warmth to the inside of your cunt. It feels at your womb, that scorching and sticky caressing every crevice.

His leftover breaths stroke at your ears. Ghost gives you a few more rams into you, the combination of your arousal and his load leaking at your inner sides. He soon pulls out and sits back on his heels, allowing your legs to collapse from the cliffs of his shoulders and rest at each sides of his hips. For a second, he examines over you with an admiration; you were truly an angel to him, holy and glowing with the remnants of your orgasm still intact. With your eyes in half-lids and mouth agape accompanying quiet breaths, chest hauling with each of those puffs — he throws his head back and brings in back into position before stretching out a hand to pet at your hair.

You submit into the touch, humming a little while you whimper at the feeling of his load leaking out from your cunt. He eyes this, trailing the hand at your hair down your chest, then your stomach, and between that sensitive area between your thighs. His fingers toy with the fluids and run them at your puffy lips, pushing the two digits into your cunt that had been stretched by a few after his cock had pounded into you for a long duration of time.

"Mmph," you hum, "Too sensitive, daddy... can't do more." Your weak hand drags down to your thighs, where his hand and two fingers were stimulating your cunt, wrapping trembling fingers around his wrist in an attempt of a puny clutch.

He chuckles, deep and rough from his chest. "I know it hurts, honey, but you can do it." Ghost uses his free hand and rubs circles into your hip. "You're my big girl, you can handle it."

Before you can give response, he shuts you up with his thumb pressed to your swollen clit. You arch your back off the mattress a little and whine into the air, eyes nearly rolling back into the region of your skull. He watches over you, then fixes back to your cunt where he pumps the residues of his heavy load back into the interior of your cunt. His fingers are no comparison to his cock — pulsing, enhanced of veins which pump into your tight walls — but it gives you the right amount of pleasure that both stings and forces you back into a euphoric state. (No wonder he already had two children of his own with this authority to bring so much pleasure down onto someone.)

The pace of his pumping fingers speed up and another is added in addition. Through all this time, his eyes linger on you and fixate permanently on your whole being. With your bare anatomy laid out in front of him like this; he had no doubts on you being the mother of his children, certain that you were going to bear his children and be that maternal figure. He was obsessed with you — and you were as haunted with his genuine allure.

You gape at the ceiling through a languid-like stare, eyes twitching and your body arching in an impossible curve when he not only uses three of his fingers to restore that feeling of rapture — but the muscle of his tongue lapping at your cunt, swiping at your puffy lips and clit where his thumb presses in circular motions. Once again, your stomach tightens in a knot and your head pulses. His eyes peer at your through the holes of his balaclava and observe with adoration.

"I'm gonna come, Simon, fuck!-" you gasp, thighs squeezing around his head, legs spreading apart and welcoming more of him to please you.

"That's it," he breathes, continuing his overstimulating ministrations, "Come one more time for me, bunny, show me who gave you a baby — who never fails to satisfy you."

On his command, there's a strike of white and a dimmed perspective of the room's ceiling. The knot in your stomach unbinds itself and a rush of fluids gush out between your legs — soaking onto his tongue and working fingers. Your arousal stains the fabric of his mask and the naked section of his mouth, prior to it being pushed back inside of you with his stored load. His tongue laps up a few more times up your lips, withdrawing back from you and putting in some time to catch his breath and build-up some stamina.

You feel bloated. Full and stuffed with all of him, his palm splays out across your stomach sticky of sweat and he moves up your body. He settles at the headboard and you rest your head at his chest where he pets at your hair in soft strokes. The waves of his breathing patterns cause your head to raise up and down, heartbeat smacking through the skin of his torso in vibrations.

With your single index finger, and some following eyes, you trace the outlines of his glistening abs and then dangle down to the tattoos of his left forearm. He presses his lips to your scalp and proceeds with the fondles at your strands of hair. You take the wrist of his hand that was used at your cunt, taking two of his used fingers and tasting the combination of his and your arousal. Ghost grunts a muffled noise at the back of his throat, his stroking hand becoming more firm.

"God, you're a fuckin' minx, you know that, bunny?" he utters, "Such a perfect girl for daddy."

He moves his fingers around your mouth, pressing on your tongue as your hand is tugging at his wrist, muffled moans around his digits. "My pretty girl, soon-to-be-mother of my children."

[mbari-blog]

Meet the glass squids 🦑

Glass squids live in the boundless waters of the twilight zone. With no protective shell and nowhere to hide, they have to get creative.

Glass squids use an invisibility cloak to stay safe in these dark waters. Like other cephalopods, they are covered in tiny pigment sacs called chromatophores. When their chromatophores are closed, their skin is basically see-through.

When their cover is blown, they expand their chromatophores to darken their appearance. Or they might simply ink and jet away!

Glass squids also have special light organs that mask the shadow of their more opaque body parts. This helps them maintain their cloak of invisibility and hide from both predators and prey.

But the future of all midwater animals is in jeopardy. The deep seafloor contains many precious minerals critical to modern technologies—like the batteries in your phone. Mining these metals will release plumes of wastewater that will cloud the ocean's twilight zone.

We urgently need to identify the impacts deep-sea mining will have across all ocean habitats, from the midwater to the seafloor.

Help protect the glass squid by sharing what you've learned. Together we can build a community of ocean champions!

Learn more about this and other fascinating animals of the deep on our website.

[pokemonshelterstories]

Would a melanistic umbreon look the same as a normal umbreon? This might sound like a dumb question, but it's good to be curious!

it might have darker eyes! you'd probably see eyes that are dark reddish brown almost to the point of seeming black in an umbreon with higher than usual melanin production.

to be honest umbreon's fur is already so darkly pigmented to help it blend into the night and cause a more potent response to its flashing rings, so it already has high melanin production. in fact, based on research of the rapid mutation of multiple evolutions eevee can undergo, it's likely that umbreon were initially closer in color to a dark brown but darkened over time until the appearance we see today. this is called adaptive melanism, the process by which natural selection slowly selects for darker pigmentation in situations where it's advantageous! this is the same phenomenon believed to be the primary reason for arbok developing different patterns based on their region- arbok living in colder environments are likely to have a larger number of dark-colored scales to help with heat absorption.

effectively, umbreon are melanistic by default, which is why they have such strikingly black fur. they can't really mutate to produce much more melanin than they already do. but if they did, that would probably manifest itself in eye color differences.