#predator deterrent

[howdoesone]

How does one get a Golden-rumped Elephant Shrew to wear pants that show off its golden rump?

The golden-rumped elephant shrew (Rhynchocyon chrysopygus) is a fascinating and unique mammal native to the coastal forests of Kenya. Known for its striking golden-colored rump, this small, insectivorous mammal is not only a biological marvel but also a potential candidate for whimsical imaginings—such as getting it to wear pants that accentuate its distinctive golden rump. While this idea is…

[polturn]

Some drawings of my old cryptid OCs.

The headless coyotes are the Leery Mimric, made when a coyote is struck by lightning. They convince humans to wear their masks so they can possess them and pilot their body and cause mischief.

And the other are Clown Apes who are mountain dwelling cryptids with kaleidoscopically patterned faces that can induce hallucinogenic trance states as a predator deterrent (but usually its just hikers).

Art tag for more of these ocs

[daycourtofficial]

Amber eyes, looking into mine

Summary: Eris finds something in his study that triggers him into a frozen state of panic. Who better suited to pulling Eris from his past than his future?

Author’s note: I wrote this in under an hour so please be nice and if there are any typos, no there aren’t 💕 Also technically this is part of my gingerfucker series, but can be read alone and she doesn’t make an appearance, it’s all Eris and the baby okay byeee

TW: panic attack, mentions of being whipped and being burnt

Word count: ~1k

A trade agreement sat on his desk, one that predates his tenure as high lord. Eris had found the document stuffed away in a drawer, abandoning what he was searching for as soon as he recognized it.

His father’s large, obnoxious signature at the bottom, the ridiculously high tariffs on imported goods. He could hear the whip in his ears, feeling his body tense with memory.

It was all too much. He had spoken with his father about the deal, wanting to give incentives for traders to come into Autumn rather than deterrents. Beron had laughed at him, telling him that everything anyone needs can be found in Autumn.

The night hadn’t ended there.

Beron had whipped him for having such a ridiculous idea in front of the other courtiers.

“No son of mine will appear so idiotic before others,” he had said, his voice ringing in Eris’s ears. 

Eris was seated in his chair in his study, but his mind was elsewhere. Down deep, deep in the dungeons of the Forest House, a trek he made many nights, his blood dripping through the house as he limped back to his own chambers.

Chubby hands grip the fabric of his trousers, a body too small traveling up his legs, climbing for what they love most in this world. Little feet find their footing on his thighs, hands leaning against his torso to support their weight.

Amber eyes look at him, searching for praise at the impossible task they just completed. 

His eyes.

What his eyes used to look like, before Beron burnt the joy out of them.

Eris is frozen in place, caught in a spiral of hatred and loathing by his son. His beautiful, wonderfully funny son, who looks at him with the love and adoration his mother looks at him with.

If his son knew all that he had done to prevent Beton’s ire, would his eyes still look for Eris in every room? Would his eyes still fill with tears, his lungs exhaling every breath at bedtime, unable to sleep without seeing his father one last time?

The spitting image of him, his mother finding an old portrait of himself at this age, his son a direct image of the portrait. Was this how he looked when Beron began his tirade of cruelty against his family? Did soft coos of a babe turn into wails at any contact with Beron?

All he had ever known was the flame, the flame within himself that refused to be extinguished, and the flames his father tormented him with for centuries.

He feels those flames on his skin, his own flame desperate to fight it. He feels the heat licking up his forearms, he feels it cascading down his back in waves, searching for every inch of unclaimed skin. He clenches his fists, desperate to bring himself back to reality. Instead, his breathing becomes more ragged, his jaw clenching.

He can smell the flesh burning off of him, feel his stomach churning, his throat filling with bile at the smell, so strong he could taste it.

Tiny fingers grip into his hair, yanking lightly, trying to find balance. The feeling jolts him back, back from the past, back from a place that doesn’t exist anymore. 

The babe stands in his lap, toes gripping his trousers as he tries to learn how to use them. A warmth so unnatural from something so young radiates off of his son. A tear splashes onto the little foot, which the babe immediately burns off. 

Giggles fill the room at his show of his powers and Eris is finally able to move again as he wraps his arms around the young princeling, so unaware of how the world can burn.

He holds him in a tight embrace, squishing his face into the tiny neck, breathing him in. He gives himself five seconds, clutching the clothes covering the babe’s chest.

Five.

He breathes in deeply, his chest heaving with sobs that escape his mouth.

Four.

It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. It had never been fair. Nothing was fair.

Three.

It took hours to kill Beron, centuries of scheming, and his presence was still felt throughout the court, throughout him-

He feels something cold and wet on his neck, tiny hands still gripping his hair, but his son is slobbering across his neck, his cheek, the movement tickling Eris’s neck. He laughs as he realizes that his son is mimicking how they make him laugh by blowing raspberries into his neck, his cheeks, his stomach.

He delicately pulls the face from his neck, leaning his forehead against his firstborn’s forehead. His eyes are wide with wonder. Everything is new to him and the worst thing he’s experienced is dropping his favorite toy in a mud puddle.

He looks at his father, not sure what to make of him, until Eris slowly smiles at him, his eyes lightening with fondness, catching a bit of the spark from his son’s eyes.

And the baby in his arms smiles back, grabbing Eris’s nose in excitement as he babbles noncoherent sounds. Eris stretches his legs out, sinking into his chair a bit, letting his back relax into the chair. Eris responds to the babbling, occasional hums and responses to whatever he was trying to convey to his father. 

Someday, the words would come. They would flow freely, spilling from his mouth in anger, in sadness, in disbelief. They would come more easily, small things setting off his memories and not allowing him to think of anything until they left him. He would share the burden of his memories.

Someday, the words would come. But not today. Today the incoherent babbling was enough.

[jd-loves-fiction]

congrats on the milestone!!! your event looks so cute!! can i request leona first meeting?

💐catman menace ❤️ 

Second-born prince, whom you come upon, sleeping by a river and decide to recruit him to help you loot the royal palace. He agrees, solely out of spite for his brother… and hopefully to delay his arranged marriage. Which becomes even more of a problem the more time he spends with you…

❧ Wc: 1.3k

❧ A predator's gaze

❧ Water is scarce in Sunset Savanna, everywhere but close to the Royal Palace, built to take advantage of the biggest river in the kingdom to keep its noble denizens cool. But even such a palace, impressive as it is in size, can be large enough to monopolize all the water.

Water collecting is a daily activity in some parts of the kingdom, for you it's only weekly. This week, collecting day fell close to the day of your mission and so you decided you pass by one of the streams that breaks off from the main river relatively close to the palace to watch your prey.

When you set off towards somewhere cool and with a good view of the palace, you didn’t expect to get company. It’s a fairly out-of-the-way place you scouted some time before, higher than average athletic abilities are necessary to reach it. Though from what you can see, this company of yours did not struggle to reach the place.

It’s mostly quiet, save for the sound of the running water and the buzzing of bugs, so even your carefully measured steps are heard by the man resting in the sun, ears twitching in your direction as you approach.

The man opens one of his eyes, green like fresh grass, something very rare around these parts, to focus on you as you bend down to gather water.

He lays on his back atop a rock in the middle of the river, glowing, skin like the mighty cliffs of Pride Rock, dark and earthy. Hair long, brown and braided, somewhat ruffled but still soft-looking. You can tell he’s watching you just as you watch him, a hint of predatory instinct in his gaze. 

"Need something?" He asks you, somewhat hostile from the scowl on his lips. Though, that just seems to be his default expression.

“Just… getting water.” You make yourself seem innocent and unthreatening, motioning to your bucket with your eyes cast low. There’s… something familiar about him.

“Is all that staring necessary? It’s getting on my nerves.”

“If that’s all it takes…” His eyes turn venomous upon your features, so you purposely trail off.

Suddenly, as if you’ve caught his eye somehow, his gaze turns calculating, tail moving thoughtfully slowly instead of the agitated quickness of before. He’s observing you closely and you can't help but feel sweat building at your hairline, from more than the heat in the air.

“What’re you really up to? This place is quite out of the way…” he sits up, facing you with the grace of a predator.

Keeping silent ceases to be an option in your mind when he doesn't seem to lose interest as you thought he would.

Damn it, no scouting for you now, not while he's around.

“Oh, the views here are just–” Boring. Dry, empty and dirty. He sees through it easily, raising a dark brow at your unconvincing answer. Your expression sours as you put down your bucket.

“Why do you care so much anyway? You know what they say about curiosity and cats, don't you?”

His sneer is so cat-like you have to hold your tongue instead of berating him for being offended when it’s just an obvious connection.

He suddenly looks around himself, ears twitching every which way, before your breath catches as his gaze settles on the view of the castle. The only thing worth looking at around here.

Lips curve deviously, expression as smug as can be all of a sudden, “I think I understand now…” he almost seems to purr in delight.

The water between you is shallow, hardly a deterrent if he truly wants to approach you. Your breath seems to quicken suddenly; what if he’s figured you out? Takes you in for treason?

No no no, your plan hasn't even been put into motion and yet you feel it coming down around you beneath this stranger’s knowing gaze.

Your lips part to speak before you can stop them, desperation and frustration bending you to the point of breaking, “Listen, ok? I’m sick and tired of that rotten family getting to live lavishly just because they were born while we have to toil about and crawl our way through each day, some of us barely surviving. How is that fair?!”

His ears twitch up in attentive listening, but you barely notice, so caught up in your passionate rant that you forget entirely that you’re not supposed to be saying this to anyone at all.

“It’s not fair! Argh! I wish someone would just do something about it, instead of just accepting it.” 

It’s as if a spark from the fire burning inside you lights up the long slumbering embers in his heart. ‘Why doesn't anyone do anything about it?’ He thinks to himself, ‘When did I stop fighting it?’

“And that person would be you?” He asks lowly, suddenly a mere three steps in front of you, calculating, fanning the flames on purpose. You can be useful to him – you and your fire.

“Yes– I mean–” Realizing your mistake too late, you flinch back at his proximity, warm-faced and lightly sweating. Shit.

“What could you possibly do? The castle’s no playground – it’s the most heavily guarded place around.” His amused tone sounds condescending to your ears, further fueling your frustration.

You’ve been planning this for months! What does he know?

“Why do you care? Who are you, anyway?” Your finger digs into his (surprisingly sturdy) exposed chest – he doesn't even flinch. You might as well be a stray fly buzzing around him with the reaction you get, or rather don't get out of him.

“I care because I’d hate to know some idiot got themselves captured doing something so stupid– I mean, brave.” With the way he says it, you’re sure he meant for you to hear that. “And you may call me whatever you like. Take your pick, I truly could not care less.”

You look him over skeptically, a myriad of questions swirling around in your skull, like a terrible potion in the making. Who is he really? What’s he doing here? Why does he care so much?

Why did you just admit all that to him?

Shame and suspicion melt around in your core, along with a sprinkle of dread. What if he’s a spy? Is your plan about to fall apart before it’s even started?

The mysterious man sighs deeply, as if employing a great effort, “Look, I’m not about to rat you out. That’d do me no good. And I care because if you plan on doing what I think you are – I could be of some use to you.”

His words make it seem as if he’s unsure of his value, but the way he says them communicates the exact opposite. You have never in your life seen someone make an offer quite so smugly as him.

Skepticism colors the gaze that sweeps over him, ”...how?”

“I know the palace better than anyone you could find.”

“Why’s that?”

“My mother’s part of the royal guard.” The lie passes smoothly through his smirking lips.

“So, what? You wanna stick it to her, or something?”

“Something like that.” You’re unsure if his words sound unconvincing because he’s lying or because he just sounds like that naturally.

A million reasons to refuse his aid enter your mind, but then again, having a guide would be immensely helpful and if he wanted to arrest you for treason he easily could – those muscles are hard to miss.

Then again also, he could just be waiting to catch you in the act…

“Fine, you’re in.” If he so much as breathes suspiciously, you’ll leave him behind. Shouldn't be too difficult with the laziness he seems to practically embody. “And I’m calling you… Scar, since you apparently don't mind.”

The eye covered by said scar seems to twitch in annoyance but he holds his tongue – you could be a chance for him to get back at them in a way that both hurts them, helps his people and, hopefully, makes them call off that fucking wedding of his. He won't throw it all away because of a stupid nickname.

Though if your plan is anywhere near as creative as your name-calling, you might both be in trouble.

[herpsandbirds]

Golden-tailed Gecko (Strophurus taenicauda), family Diplodactylidae, Queensland, Australia

This lizard is capable of spewing a sticky gooey substance from pores on its tail onto predators as a deterrent.

photograph by Rob Valentic

Watch a video of the spewing, here:

This Gecko Shoots the Most Disgusting Liquid Out Of Its Tail (youtube.com)

[epic-dragon-hell-99]

Top 10 Scariest Color/Gene Combos (Part 1/2)

Long post... Be prepared for a fright under the cut 😈

10. Lead Tide

Environmental contamination. What are we doing to our oceans. Tidelord would be disappointed. And also full of lead. (Have dragons invented microplastics yet?) Anyways do not drink these guys especially if you are a baby or something like that.

9. Fire Wasp

Many people are afraid of bees, and many more are afraid of wasps. While both may or may not be able to sting you (depending on species), and one is ultimately a subtype of the other, even people who think every bug is so cool and so cutes might get scared if they had mastery over the element of fire (and can still sting you). I think if a wasp could burn you, it would hurt a lot, and they might also be impervious to fire and smoke as a deterrent. I suppose they could just have a particularly "spicy" venom instead? Good thing there aren't any species of wingless wasp (ant) known for a fiery venom that are prone to being highly invasive in much of the United States and abroad! (Editor's Note: Fire ants are real and can hurt you. For most people in most situations, this is usually an inconvenience more than anything.)

8. Orca Thylacine

A hybrid between an orca and a thylacine would probably be a capable predator on land and at sea, as well as tolerate a broad range of climates. Furthermore, it would have both the motive and the intelligence to enact revenge on humanity or whatever. Has science gone too far?

7. Pumpkin Phantom

Oh no, it's the scary Halloween guy! With an epithet like "phantom," you can be sure this undead dragon is down for some mischief and haunting. Maybe even some shrieking and terrorizing! It may not be the scariest concept on the list, but it isn't for lack of trying. If rates of fatal decapitation spike in your area, we know who to blame...

6. Shadow Clown

Look out! It's Problems the Evil Shadow Clown, from those TikTok animations! Or maybe it's actually Problems the Regular Shadow Clown, who knows? But both clowns and the dark are scary to many people, so a clown *of* darkness? That is probably the scariest thing someone on Earth could imagine. Anyways I'm pretty sure this guy has some sort of Weapons or Dark Powers regardless. (You can also make this entry a joke about juggalos, if you want.)

[valtsv]

fuck it. silt verses oc masterpost. eat up.

- anastasis crane - god-hunter, atheist, and wandering vagabond. both predator and prey in a single being. does dirty work so others don't have to. it's ya boy annie.

- house crane - old money cult family who rebranded after their god was outlawed following the imago war. now they construct and review binding contracts for both peninsulan and linger straits bodies of commerce and government - with an emphasis on the "binding" aspect. rumour has it they've been granted special dispensation to keep practicing their illegal and rather nasty banned rituals, so long as they're discrete and keep providing their services to the people who matter. they don't mix much with anyone outside of the family except on business, and are rarely seen in public. it's generally agreed that the reports of many of them being not altogether human are just scary stories for children, but a few people have claimed (under the influence of a few rounds at the local bar) to have known someone who worked for someone high up in business or politics who can confirm the truth of such claims with their own eyes. of course, these people have generally since disappeared, which makes corroboration difficult. their characteristic spindly, spidery features are probably just a product of ancestral aristocratic inbreeding. probably.

- fen kahron - ferryman presiding over a treacherous stretch of marshland. you will not be able to cross without her help, but that hasn't stopped people from trying, either out of principle or to avoid the toll, which takes the form of something of personal value to the individual. fortunately, her god's mouth is always open. she's not terribly fond of the parish of tide and flesh - her relationship to her god is personal, and they keep trying to convert her. which is silly, really, because she's been dead for a very long time.

- the carrion-herald / the bleach-bone king - an angel/saint(?) of death and decay that feeds on the dead and dying in extreme, remote environments where rescue or retrieval is unlikely. his coming is heralded by his halo of carrion birds seen circling overhead. those who worship him see this as a sign of luck - either you've been chosen to meet him, or to bear witness to his procession.

- harmony joy - a love-saint who leads a dancing plague. once human, she called a god into her in her aching loneliness after being ostracised utterly from her community and forced to bear witness to their collective happiness together, which blessed her to dance forever so beautifully that she would never want for a partner again. she might seem sentient at first, but spend long enough in her company (not recommended) and you'll soon realise that her apparent personality is simply a fragmented collection of lovingly preserved scraps of her past lovers, who, once in her thrall, will dance until their bodies give out, even if their minds should break and skin and sinew should snap and be torn away in strips. sightings of her procession have dwindled in recent years, likely due to modern technological advancements allowing for more effective deterrence and warning systems, as well as the improvements in long-range weaponry, but she still features prominently in urban legends and cautionary tales about staying out late alone.

[tribbetherium]

A few additional species from the rattile cladogram that have not yet been properly introduced:

In the arid regions of Central Arcuterra, food is rather scarce. A clade of rattiles, the moundators, became specialized insectivores feeding on the abundant termite nests, one of the food sources that were rarely in short supply. However, as the moundators diverged into several species over the eons, competition became tougher for these highly-specialized insectivores. To relieve the pressure from its cousins, one group turned their sights on a much more dangerous quarry: the desert applehead ant (Maluscephalomyrmex trimorphis).

Omnivores that scavenge carrion, hunt other insects and diligently harvest the seeds of the local desert plants, the applehead ants accomplish their work with the cooperative effort of three separate worker castes: small minor workers tending to the affairs of the nest, major workers as foragers and fighters, and large, big-headed supermajors that do the heavy lifting, taking apart difficult food items and acting as the guard to the nest entrances to protect against raids by rival ant colonies. With powerful mandibles, formidable stingers, and able to grow to a centimeter in length, these elite guard are a force to be reckoned with should anything dare to threaten their nest.

Yet this is little deterrent to the blue-tongued lizardvark (Myrmecosauromys cyanoglossus): a moundator species that, in a long arms race not only with others of its kind but also with the ants themselves, have developed a resistance to the ants' stings. Tough, pebbled scales on the tip of its snout are impervious to bites and stings, while powerful curved claws allow the lizardvark to excavate out nursery chambers and gorge on the soft vulnerable larvae as well as the adults. By being able to tackle a prey insect species others of its relation cannot, the lizardvark is ensured a reliable source of food with little competition. Up to 80% of its diet consists entirely of applehead ants, with the remaining percentage being comprised of other insects to supplement its diet, and as applehead ant nests are less numerous than the more abundant cathedral termites, lizardvarks are more solitary and territorial than other moundators, fiercely defending productive ant nests from competitors with their long curved fore-claws that double as formidable weapons.

Aside from slurping up ants from their underground tunnels, the bright blue tongues of the blue-tongued lizardvark serve another practical purpose: as a display organ to other members of its species. While both sexes sport the namesake blue tongue, it is more brightly colored in the males, which use the colorful, flickering appendage, visually contrasted against their dull brown bodies, to both impress potential mates and intimidate rival males especially during the breeding season.

In the same regions of desert roamed by the blue-tongued lizardvark, another rattile, smaller and less conspicuous, makes a living in the desolate land. Camouflaging perfectly in the rust-hued sand when Beta's red gleam dominates the sky, this elusive, hard-to-find creature performs a disappearing act not just above, but below the sand as well to conceal itself both from the midday heat and the diurnal predators: the carmine sanddigger (Erythrosaurocricetus vermiformes).

During the day, when Alpha's searing rays scorch the sandy surface, the carmine sanddigger buries itself under several inches of sand to hide from the searing heat. Small nostrils and a specialized nasal tract keep out sand particles and even allow it to breathe the small air pockets between loose grains of sand even when buried, allowing it to remain entirely hidden under the sand for hours at a time to escape the hottest parts of the day. As dusk, dawn, and Beta-twilight cools the clime, however, it emerges to forage, alternately scurrying across the sand on stubby one-clawed limbs or 'swimming' through the loose grains with side to side undulations of its body, preying upon the various small invertebrates of the dry regions that serve as its primary source of moisture as well as nutrition.

In the earlier days of the rattiles' evolution, during the Middle Glaciocene, the monisaurs produced an experimental lineage that took to the water to become semiaquatic omnivores that fed on a diet of both bottom-dwelling shelled invertebrates but also marine algae in addition. Known as the monitees, their success was ultimately short-lived and would soon give way their niches to the sterapins and bayvers as of the Early Temperocene.

Nonetheless, a few small species of monitees remain, surviving in coastal environments as generalist foragers that seek refuge on small rocky islets offshore the coast of Gestaltia, nesting on beaches and cliff walls but turn to the shallow seas to seek out their food. The dusky mudlap (Littorasauromys bulbocephalus) is one such species, sunning itself on warm rocks during the mornings to heat itself up and raise its body temperature to a sufficient level to be active enough, before plunging into the cold, dangerous seas to feed, propelled by broad, paddling feet, its short, snubbed snout, blunt teeth and powerful jaw muscles ideal for gnawing off algae anchored firmly to rocks as well as dislodging crustaceans, bivalves and quillnobs off of solid surfaces. Being ectothermic as most rattiles are, mudlaps have a short window of time to feed, as they cannot remain in cold water too long or else they could become too sluggish to properly swim and can end up drowning, though their round, compact bodies decrease their surface area and slow down heat loss.

While such risky excursions are usually worth the payoff, mudlaps prefer to supplement their diet with food closer to shore: the tidal zones where various invertebrates, particularly snails and bivalves, hide in the soft, perpetually-wet sand. Their forepaws, lobed rather than webbed, make a good compromise between swimming paddles and dexterous digging implements that they use to excavate food from the damp ground.

Unusually among rattiles which typically bear large litters of tiny young, mother mudlaps bear one large well-developed offspring per breeding season, which can fend for itself almost immediately. While fed on regurgitated food for the first few days to acquire its mother's necessary microbiota vital for its immune and digestive system, it quickly becomes fully independent within a couple of weeks' time. More carnivorous when young in order to fuel its rapid growth, it gradually becomes more herbivorous-leaning as it grows older, though always remains opportunistic on whatever food it can find.

On the Fissorian archipelago, a primitive yet specialized lineage of rattiles had capitalized on the vacancy of predator niches by becoming rather large-bodied aquatic ambush hunters, giving rise to one of the largest rattiles next only to varats and seashingles: the garitors. Equipped with long snouts bearing elongated, multicusped teeth, they flourished in coastal wetlands, rivers and lakes, exploiting the biological need of land animals to drink: and thus have their food easily come to *them* rather than having to pursue their next meal.

While the marshland garitor, native to the Fissorian Archipelago, have thin, narrow snouts better suited for small prey, their cousins the mainland garitors have broader, stronger jaws, enabling them to tackle bigger prey including walkabies and ungulopes whenever the thirsty creatures come to seek out bodies of water. The most common species, the mottled mainland garitor (Myosuchoides varicolor) ranges across the eastern part of Gestaltia in wetlands and freshwater rivers and lakes, its mottled coloration allowing it to hide in murky river water among silt, debris and floating water plants to catch whatever may come its way, trying to drag their prey underwater to drown them.

Much like the marshland garitor, mainland garitors bear very large litters of over fifty tiny young, but give little to no parental care and abandon them quickly after birth: ironically, as less of a display of indifference and more of an active attempt to protect their young from their own predatory instinct to attack and eat any animal small enough to swallow in one gulp. The young of the mainland species, however, have one additional trick up their sleeve: they are rather skilled climbers and can escape up into the trees where the adults cannot follow, retaining such a behavior for a year or two until they are both too heavy and ungainly to climb, and too large for adult garitors to view them as an easy meal.

On the forest floor of tropical rainforests of central Gestalia, a strange relic of an early adaptive radiation can be found, emerging from burrows under cover of night to hunt for small invertebrate prey. A last survivor of the first molrocks of Fissor to re-evolve keen eyesight and begin to forage above ground once again, this hardy survivor lost to time endures despite competition by finding an unusual intermediate.

Known as the bristly bareback (Hemisauromys gymnus), this strange animal is the last remaining representative of the stem-rattiles, the rest of its kin having long been outcompeted by the true rattiles with their plated skin, rapid reproduction and slower, less energy-intensive metabolisms proving highly advantageous in the enironments of Fissor. Yet it is these very features that have allowed the bareback to survive: by doubling down on traits true rattiles have lost, it manages to occupy a middle ground between the quasi-reptilian and the traditionally mammalian.

Despite its generally rattile-like saurian appearance, the bareback is immediately distinguished by its wrinkly, leathery skin sparsely adorned with sensory bristles, leftover hairs that in the rattiles became their protective scales. In addition, it has a more erect stance than the sprawling rattiles, their limb posture being a holdover from their burrowing ancestors whose limbs emerged out to the sides for shoveling away loose dirt, a trait that proved advantageous for their new saurian-like lifestyle: yet one the bareback has lost, in favor of more-sustained running in pursuit of prey or in fleeing predators.

Being mesothermic, able to keep itself a few degrees warmer than the environment, it can remain active even on cooler nights when ectothermic rattiles retreat to safe places and become dormant. However, it too has a lower metabolism than other fully endothermic small insectivores such as furbils and duskmice, allowing it to go longer without food and use less energy when foraging. Some of this extra saved energy can then be used in investing in their young: while true rattiles went the full r-selected route to the point of losing their mammary glands, barebacks still do retain them and bear smaller litters of ten to twelve at a time which depend on the mother for at least three months.

A mix of basal holdover traits and derived new ones allow the bareback to occupy a unique ecological niche in the undergrowth. Despite being the last of its lineage, it nonetheless finds success in capitalizing on the best of both worlds: giving it enough flexibility to thrive when conditions favor one strategy or the other.

-----------

[vcreatures]

The Red Winged Whip is small, nocturnal drake found throughout temperate forests. Spending most of the day hidden within the canopies or caves very few will actually interact with this dragon. Primarily an insectivore the Red Winged Whip hunts the skies for flying insects but they have been known to also feed on small rodents. Especially during mating season. 

Their name sake derives from the male’s impressive finger appendage that grow from their digitus anularis. The long growths are used in courting displays. Another display shared by both males and females is the false, bioluminescent eye spot. Due to their small stature the Red Winged Whip is regularly preyed upon, but these glowing eyes act as a great deterrent, scaring would be predators. 

[sole-production-ut]

Who is condemned to hunt

Hollow!Sans – his nickname speaks for himself. His soul is always empty and unable to give magic or feelings. Hollow is doomed to absorb the souls of others to make up for his own shortcomings. He is similar to Ink!Sans, but is his most horrible reflection. 

His story

He came from an alternate branch of Undertale, where Chara and Asriel didn't dare to come to the surface. This changed history and in the future, Sans became an ambitious royal guardian while his father Gaster conducted an experiment to create the perfect living weapon, which was to be humanity's deterrent to conclude a complete world. And that weapon by all tests became Sans himself. Sans' soul had to absorb the power of the CORE to make Sans the strongest monster in the world. But something went wrong. The CORE began to overload Sans's soul too quickly and subsequently collapsed and exploded.

The entire universe was wiped out and only Sans was left alive. Or rather, the skeleton that was Sans. When he woke up, the only thing that was with him was his soul. Empty, without a hint of anything left. And just as his soul itself was empty, Sans' entire personality and memories were also empty. No magic, no feelings. Nothing. Over time, this led to powerful psychological symptoms and dissociative identity disorder.

It would have gone on like that if a wanderer - another Sans - hadn't arrived in his world. He tried to help the poor man, but he was concerned about what was in front of his eyes - the soul. Without thinking, he pounced on his savior like a wild, ravenous beast and devoured his soul. Eventually he managed to feel alive for the first time in an unknown amount of time. Emotions, memories, magic. It all flowed through Hollow's body. And seeing through the portal of the murdered Sans a whole universe filled with souls, it was not hard to understand what had become of this universe. He later realized that he too had powers that could help him go anywhere in the multiverse he wanted. All he needed was his blood. So, Hollow absorbed souls from one world after another. Hollow began to learn his new powers, abilities, and slowly mimicked intelligent beings until he eventually resembled a гusual monster himself. Hollow began to perfectly mimic all the feelings that humans and monsters have. He gained an incredible amount of knowledge. He became practically normal. But behind this mask of normalcy still lives a predator that has only one goal - to eat souls, because Hollow is a Soul Eater.

His personality

His character is extremely difficult to define. Initially there are no feelings or emotions in him, only a thirst to devour. However, when he is not hungry, he can be described as neutral as possible. Whereas the colors create chaos in Ink's character, Hollow remains neutral after eating souls. It's just that he gets the opportunity to impersonate others. He smiles, he's sad, he's angry, but all of these emotions are just copied from the souls. That can often be revealed by his eyes if you look closely. It's hard for me to explain how his emotional spectrum works, but if he was a character in a D&D game, he'd definitely have the Unaligned characteristic.

As mentioned earlier, he may have a psychological attack causing dissociative identity disorder. But this only happens when Hollow is hungry, so he doesn't drive himself to such a state.

His abilities

Absorbing souls

Hollow's key ability. You can visually see it on his face: lines running down his cheeks from his mouth. It's the separation between his lower and upper jaw. In normal conversation, he keeps them connected. 

When Hollow eats another's soul, it begins to digest in him and turns into a liquid that is extremely blood-like. Over time, this fluid disappears from Hollow's body, so souls are his constant diet. 

This power also includes the ability to see directly the soul of every human and monster, as well as grabbing it and ripping it out of the body without too much difficulty. 

It's worth keeping in mind that each soul has a different fill percentage. Hollow has a limit of 1500%. If he goes over it, Hollow, like Ink, will vomit. The fill percentage also affects the eyes and appearance of Hollow's soul. 

Blood portals

From his liquid, if Hollow spills it and thinks about where he wants to go, a portal to the desired place will open in front of him for a while. 

Copying

Naturally, if Hollow eats some soul, he can temporarily copy all of its abilities. However, the longer he uses magic, the faster Hollow gets hungry again, so he tries to conserve his powers. 

Multiverses dreams

Hollow's unique power. Allows him to find himself inside the body of another version of himself while sleeping. He will not control it, only watch it, which is comparable to a first-person dream. But this is not a dream, but an opportunity to behold another's Multiverse and its events. In each dream, he sees a random multiverse. 

Rarely does he get to see dreams where he sees snippets of the soul owners' memories.

Additional information

Hollow has a personal list of multiverses that he keeps in his head that other versions of him know about;

It follows that Hollow's memory is incredibly phenomenal and is photographic;

Of his belongings, he carries a dark brown side bag in which he keeps: a clerical knife, bandages, a marker, and soul vials that he stole from the Science!Sans universe;

Hollow's blood portals can't lead to someone. Only to somewhere.

Instead of teleportation, Hollow more often uses Undyne's spears as a means of transportation, standing on them as if on a surfboard or skateboard;

Keeps a tally of the universes it has devastated under the Papyrus glove;

Hollow is the most unusable vessel for the Fresh Parasite;

Hollow's birthday coincides with World Food Day (16 October);

Under no circumstances will Hollow eat the souls of Dream, Nightmare and Error. For that reason, he tries to stay away from all of them;

His offical tags: #HollowSans, #Hollow_Sans, #Hollow!Sans;

You can read all the information about him in this Russian article.

[uncharismatic-fauna]

European Starling (Sturnus vulgaris)

Habitat & Distribution

Native to Eurasia, especially Europe, North Africa, and western and central Asia

In the wild they reside in open grasslands and sparse woodlands, but they have also adapted well to living in urban environments

Physical Description

Weight: 58–101 g (2.0–3.6 oz)

Wingspan: 19–23 cm (7.5–9.1 in)

Both males and females have iridescent black plumage with white or yellow speckled markings across the whole body

Behaviour

Individuals live in large flocks, sometimes with over a million members

European starlings are mainly insectivorous, feeding on a variety of species including spiders, flies, moths, grasshoppers, and earwigs

The main predators of European starlings are owls birds of prey; starlings avoid predation by flying in large groups

Key Advantages

European starlings are very agile, and their flight patterns in large groups can confuse predators

Their sharp beaks are a powerful deterrent against potential threats when nesting

See where they stand in the May Mammal Madness Tournament here!

Photo by Kenneth Haas

[fuckyeahfluiddynamics]

How Moths Confuse Bats

When your predators use echolocation to locate you, it pays to have an ultrasonic deterrence. So, many species of ermine moths have structures on their wings known as tymbals.  (Image credit: Wikimedia/entomart; research credit: H. Mendoza Nava et al.; via APS Physics) Read the full article

[bogleech]

How could bioluminesence ever be a deterrent against predation in the deep sea when literally every light down there is made of meat

Is it aposematism, is it batesian mimicry of other dangerous organisms down there?

In some cases it fills the role of "warning colors" for poisonous or bad tasting things! Predators learn the differences between light patterns and come to recognize which ones are not good to eat. But in many cases it's INSIDIOUSLY for the exact reason you point out, that light = meat. Therefore, if you light up like a beacon when a predator bothers you, there's a high chance it will attract an even bigger predator. Maybe the bigger predator eats you anyway, but maybe not! Maybe IT learned that you taste bad, but that you must only be lighting up of another perfectly edible thing is pissing you off. Or maybe, like some species, you just switch all your lights off and curl up and hide when the bigger predator gets there. Or maybe no bigger predator shows up, but the predator already messing with you knows from experience that this COULD happen and has to weight whether it's hungry enough to risk it the longer it continues the attack.

RUDEST use of this are animals like certain squid, worms and this shrimp that can squirt a glowing sticky slimy cloud as they swim away, so their attacker gets confused and blinded WHILE they become a giant neon "free food" sign

[llamagoddessofficial]

Hi! So, this is a question for the Siren AU. How would the boys react to a siren mc (on the predator spectrum) who already has a baby? Not newborn, but certainly still child age. And with her species of siren, oftentimes the males don't stick around and would part away from the female.

It's always important, anywhere in nature, to be incredibly careful of mothers with babies. A mother defending her child is immensely dangerous, she'll fight to the death without question, and even if she were a prey mermaid they'd avoid getting too close to her baby. All the boys would be very careful to give Mc (and her child) space.

Sans: Despite the dangerous reputation that comes with being an orca, Sans would actually be the one that she'd be quickest to accept. This is one of the few occasions where being an orca is to his advantage socially. Orca sirens live in family units, right? And he's all alone. She immediately knows that's odd. And when he starts following them, defending them, bringing them food... it wouldn't take long for her to realise he's bonded with them and considers them his family. There's no other reason for him to act the way he's acting. Her baby likes his funny whistle-click noises, too.

... Her sympathy for his situation only goes so far, though. He still has to prove himself. And prove himself he does; he rarely leaves their side, assisting in hunting and foraging, delighting in teaching her baby. He can let out a few loud calls, and the area clears of almost every predator, nobody willing to fuck with an orca.

He's dedicated, and built for a family. She likes that.

Red: Red's dead charming. He's got that going for him. A handsome, charming shark covered with the marks of his past victories, he screams 'potential mate' and can flirt with her pretty brazenly before her patience at his closeness runs out. His knack for entertaining children also comes in handy... she's much more tolerant with someone that can make her baby giggle like that. That's probably the way he sidles his way into their family unit- making both mother & child laugh while serving as a visual deterrent to any hunters who get the wrong idea. She's naturally cautious about letting a SHARK near her baby considering one bite would be all it took, but he's happy to wait for her to relax.

... He's also very sturdy. Don't forget, he's built for his partner to be an aggressive female shark much larger than him. He can get roughed around by his potential mate (and he'd probably enjoy it) so he's a lot more confident approaching her than the others are. His confidence gives him a casual air that she really likes... it's clear he's not got anything suspicious in mind.

Skull: Unfortunately for our big boy, Skull would have the hardest time convincing Mc that he doesn't want to hurt them. It comes with the territory of being a massive scary deep sea monster. There would be numerous occasions where his attempts to interact with either mother or child would result in Mc charging and attacking him- and though her attempts at causing any damage are totally ineffectual to this giant, it definitely hurts his feelings.

... His one upside... is that he's a ferocious predator. Talk about a provider- he's constantly bringing her and her baby meals, at a rate that almost alarms her. If he thinks Mc isn't eating enough because she's too busy guarding her baby, he brings her meals big enough to sustain her for days. And even if her baby doesn't look hungry he brings meals for them anyway. He's very adept at catching the little prey that her child relies on, his massive dexterous tentacles capable of snatching up anything moving... and though Mc doesn't like him at first, she'll never turn down food.

They'll probably grow close because Mc doesn't let him near her child. He's always bringing food, and she accepts it on her baby's behalf. With the amount of prey he brings them, there's a lot of time for bonding.

[britts-galaxy-brain]

Knowing Lily looks at porn of lesbians being raped and tried to get into your pants AND has actually SA'd people makes me genuinely wonder if she'd assault you if given the chance. It's really terrifying to me that she has so many queer kids in her audience.

In my Sociology of Crime Prevention class, we were taught what a predator needs in order to commit a crime is a motive, an opportunity, and a lack of deterrents. The motive is there, she's cultivated the audience to give herself the opportunity, and law enforcement's refusal to take the warning signs seriously provides a lack of deterrent.

It would not surprise me if one day someone who was a fan came forward and said Lily assaulted them.

If we'd ever had the chance to meet in person when we knew each other, I have no doubt she would have. Most likely by coercion.

[glitteringcrab]

I've seen this technology before (part 2)

think of the implications think of the implications THINK OF THE FREAKING IMPLICATIONS (trigger warning for sexual abuse)

Sigh... Here we go.

First of all, let's get the easy parts out of the way.

Despite people who are being puppeteered sometimes appear to be in a fugue state (that thousand yard stare lol)--

--or, you know, puppeteered. VIOLENTLY sometimes--

--it's clear that they are also both alive and aware:

Would you say this is pretty much the definition of a mind rape?

I mean, we've seen Unity do pretty much the same thing, but the subjects never seem to be aware that they got possessed, are not traumatized nor upset (and hilariously the quality of their lives was greatly improved when Unity had taken over). I don't know if they forget because Unity is actually kind of nice and makes them forget on purpose to avoid trauma, or if it's just how assimilation by hiveminds works. In any case, it is apparent that this is simply how hiveminds live. Ugly, of course, but in the sense of "a predator has to eat" fashion. Not exactly a choice on the hivemind's part. So... technically also a mind rape, but... also not as evil as what Evil Morty has been doing.

Secondly.

Do we all agree that it seems that the receiver is above Evil Rick's eye? We can see its light going on and off, which would likely not be visible if the receiver was at the height of the bottom eyelid (I'm referring to where Evil Morty's cables are sticking out).

Indeed, the Citadel Rick does not have to stick his whole hand inside Evil Rick's face, just the fingers.

In fact, would you say the receiver is... right... about... here:

(and yes, I combined the two frames to achieve the ultimate creepy frame)

So... in the hypothetical scenario that "the reason Evil Morty has cables sticking out of his eye is that he was once puppeteered himself and some remains of the implant are still in his head"...

...would you say that the place where his own receiver must have been would be... somewhere around here:

Which, accounting for the curvature of the giant cartoon eyes (lol) might be the correct distance from the bottom eyelid if one combines the length of the cables Evil Morty already has sticking out of his eyes and the the length of the cables in the eyepatch.

At the same time, it'd be kinda weird for someone to remove the receiver but not the rest of the implant cables and stuff. I mean, if Rick C-137 was trying to remove such an implant from Morty Prime, wouldn't he be thorough about it? Wouldn't he make sure Morty Prime was completely clean?

Unless, of course, you're hastily trying to gouge your own eye out in desperation:

Oops. You too, eh?

Also, it is interesting to note that it appears Evil Rick was trying to stick the shard in his eye (the left eye, btw, where his receiver was) which is... not how one would typically try to commit suicide when you also have a throat available.

So either the mind control kept Evil Rick's hand far away from his throat on purpose, or there are built-in contingencies that ensure unauthorized removal of the receiver is akin to a death sentence...

...which (in the hypothetical case that Evil Morty was at some point in the past also frantically gouging his own eye out) may be negated if you somehow also managed to gain access to some kind of healing equipment (of which we know Ricks have plenty) and set it to turn on automatically (because you're a very smart, careful boy). I'm not gonna add the screenshots because they're too many, but I'm going to list a few:

the one Rick used to jumpstart Pissmaster's brain

the thing Rick injected Morty with after Morty bully-gunned himself

the one Rick used to restore Morty's arm

Rick's freaking garage

(It's possible by the way that the original receiver Evil Morty had did not have a "contain suicide attempt" function. It's possible that the threat of death was deterrent enough that Evil Morty wouldn't try to remove the receiver on his own. It's possible Evil Morty added the "contain suicide attempt" function to Evil Rick's receiver because he knew from experience that this is a price he might be willing to pay. Which would, you know... also explain why he didn't bother downloading the schematics of Rick Prime's auto-healing ability for himself)

IN ANY CASE, you mutilated yourself successfully, pulled the receiver out of your eye's remains, died, your brain healed (physically), the eye reformed, but happened to reform while the cables were sticking out from when you were pulling the receiver. Uh-oh. It's okay, tuck them back in, no one has to know. Better not inform the Citadel nor update your Morty Agency record on your newest implant, either. You wouldn't want other Ricks to know they only need to attach a receiver in your head to exert complete control over you, huh? (like grabbing a... joystick?) Maybe kill your Rick, if you haven't done it already. Run away.

Sigh. Let's go to the hard parts now.

Fans smarter than me have already pointed out that the Rick-Morty dynamic is deliberately built around the idea of grooming, predation of minors and sexual abuse. A lot of the things in the show are either outright instances of grooming, are meant to refer to sexual abuse or are meant to be allegories to sexual abuse, even though canonically Rick is not grooming Morty for sexual reasons. (I strongly suggest you check out all the above links, by the way. I was disturbed.)

Take also into account that Citadel with its Morty Market also has disturbing similarities to a messed up, horrible foster care system, as well as child trafficking.

Although I can't find all the links (message me if you have them), I had also found posts from fans comparing Evil Morty's actions to sexual abuse, against Ricks and Mortys this time.

The "literal" mind rape he has committed is the most blatant example, in my opinion, but far from the only one. The violence of Evil Rick's puppeteering when he was forced to kill Guard Rick was disturbing. Another fan alluded that Evil Morty making Evil Rick drunk before assaulting him was akin to drugging someone before taking sexual advantage of them. Extra disturbing by Evil Rick's exclamation "Get off me!"

Personally, Evil Morty closing the garage door before attacking reminded me of... other scenes in movies etc, where the assaulter turns up the volume on the radio before commencing his attack. I mean... we've seen all sorts of insane stuff happening in that garage (people exploding, redheads flying in, a flying saucer parking) and none of the neighbors even care. Gene actually had the courage to STEAL a rake from this house of madness. It is all treated as comically absurd. Only when Evil Morty attacks are the happenings treated as an actual violent crime that the perpetrator would want to stay hidden.

And sure, Evil Morty needed a large crowd of alive Mortys to hide amongst, and he needed an excuse to keep them alive so he strapped them on the Morty Dome and tortured them, but did they really have to be naked?

Now, I'm in no way an expert of any sort in any of the above, but I've read that when children (and Morty is 14) do physically violent or sexually aggressive acts against others, it's typically because they've been assaulted themselves in a similar fashion. I guess they're either trying to process what happened, are mimicking it, are venting their frustration on someone weaker, or are simply desensitized to it. SOMEONE PLEASE CORRECT ME IF I'M HORRIBLY WRONG.

I'm sure that canonically, no actual rape has taken place, but given the show's general... vibe... I doubt the above mentioned similarities are a coincidence. I'd say that a 14-year-old boy literally losing all body autonomy by becoming an old man's literal puppet for an unspecified amount of time is as close to the concept as possible without actually being the concept. (Edit: sadly, I no longer think this was only metaphorical. There's no way to explain his utter indifference at torturing Mortys, in the particular fashion that he did, unless he concluded that they'd be having a MUCH EASIER time than HE had.)

Of course, this is just a theory. We don't know if anything like this has happened. However, the truth is that while we've seen plenty of miserable Mortys in the Citadel, none of them seem to be as angry, traumatized, nor desperate as Evil Morty. They all managed to smile, or find companionship among each other, or even among Ricks (Cop Rick, I'm looking at you). Evil Morty is the only one who did completely messed up things to an extreme scale without batting an eyelid, just so he could get as far away as possible. He didn't exactly seem to enjoy his journey to freedom, either.

His face here as he finishes the transmitter reads to me as a particularly sad and defeated "...I'm really doing this, then" thought.

And (like actual sexual abuse victims) it's not likely he could have safely unburdened himself by sharing the secret of what happened to him with someone in the Citadel. Another Rick might have taken advantage of him in the same way, once he realized the opportunity was available.

Not to mention that by telling someone he would risk hearing some variation of "you asked for it by being cocky and not doing what you were told" or "being completely controlled by a Rick was the best thing that ever happened to you, you finally stopped doing dumb mistakes". The Rick who puppeteered him could have also framed it as "I'm doing this for your sake, because you keep getting yourself injured in adventures".

And he mustn't let himself react overly emotionally or go into hysterics about it, because then he'll get mind-blown and forget everything that happened (roofied, much?) and be vulnerable to it again. Or, even worse, he may be discarded as "defective" and end up in that Morty slaughterhouse... So he must really tone down his emoting.

He could have theoretically confessed to another Morty, but we've already seen Mortys throwing each other under the bus in their bid to survive. I wouldn't like my chances, personally.

So it seems to me that he be stuck in the Citadel, simming in his own fear, grief and anger with no one to confide to (although gaining a level-up in confidence (cockyness, if you want) given that he successfully orchestrated his own escape attempt). Either living in the lousy conditions of Morty Town, surrounded by clueless Mortys who, if ever discovered that he could get mind-controlled might tip off a Rick in exchange of a better quality of life. Or partnering with a Rick, living every day in fear that his secret might get revealed accidentally and that he'd end up dissected and studied, or simply controlled once again. (It would be even more dangerous if his Rick was wanted by the Citadel, and Evil Morty was in danger of getting executed for assisting him.) And, of course, we know that Citadel Ricks do not form lasting bonds with their Mortys. Even if his secret was never discovered, Evil Morty would find neither peace, nor family in the company of the Rick of the Day who adopted him.

I also think there is a lot of internalized victim blaming among the Mortys in the citadel. At some point he might have been convinced that he really did ask for it by not behaving. And this puts the eyepatch in a... different perspective. It made sense that he used the eyepatch initially, that's pretty much the only place where he could put his transmitter. But after he gained access to aaaaall the Citadel's tech as president, he built a lot of cool things. Couldn't he have built a better interface, one that doesn't require an eyepatch?

I mean... he definitely improved the eyepatch itself. In the beginning he had to connect it with his implanted cables manually:

But after he became president, it appears that it connects automatically. No longer necessary to stick your fingers in your own eye socket (yayyy).

It's unclear if the cables themselves are still there (they might be!) but some part of the original implant definitely remains. However, why still use an eyepatch at all? However he may have started off originally, we can't really say that he incapable of performing surgery to himself by the time season 7 rolls in because we saw him have a plethora of body augmentations, and yet he still wears an eyepatch. Couldn't he have also altered the implant in his brain so that he keeps any potential perks but no longer needs an external eyepatch?

Sure, maybe he enjoys triggering Rick's fear of pirates (even though he wears it when he is alone outside the CFC). Or maybe he thinks he looks cool wearing it. Or maybe he's just an angsty teenager.

Or... Well... if the whole experience is a source of shame and self-blame for him, he may be metaphorically hiding the place of intrusion... or, conversely, a physical reminder that he managed to literally cut himself free might make him feel better. I tend to think it's the latter.

This is all just a theory. Maybe he simply is evil.

Or maybe he's heartbroken by being constantly discarded in the "adoption" program of the Morty Market to the point where he felt he would explode. Ricks scouring the universe for Mortys meant that blowing the CFC was the only way he could be left alone in peace.

...But I'm leaning towards him having one more reason to run away as far as he can without looking back.

(and as of now, I get the feeling that he hasn't run away far enough)