#Textures sensor off

[rotzaprachim]

obsessed with Giulia scarpaleggia’s book “Cucina povera” atm. It’s focused on traditional working class food from mainly Tuscany and northern Italy and it’s a lot of project cooking with relatively inexpensive ingredients. I made pici pasta from scratch with my cousin last night and it was really fun and super tasty. Definitely a project but extremely calming and meditative. I want to try the orchiette recipe next.

#Personal #like it’s mostly things that are a little bit of a project but that’s the point #Cooking #This book would have done numbers during the pandemic #This dough was the first time I’d done a pasta dough without eggs #And it has this springy spongey play dough texture? Wild. It was so fun to work with and didn’t set my autistic #Textures sensor off

[strifesolution]

opened a rift in time and space, no big deal

#literally the weirdest texture glitch i have ever seen #not running optifine or shaders #its just a vanilla 1.20.6 aternos server #i like how you can see van setting off sensors in the background at the end LMAO

[somerandomdudelmao]

You may of already been asked this, or just straight up mentioned it before, I'm not sure, but I've been thinking. Robo Raph can't feel pain yes, but can he feel anything else?

Can he feel as Donnie works on and repairs him? Can he feel Mikey as they're hugging in that last panel, or is he just numb to any and all sensation? He could be able to feel weight maybe, or maybe not with how strong he is.

While sad, it'd make perfect sense if he's unable to, he's in a robot body after all. Just some thoughts. 👀

Ooh, that's a very interesting question >:0

Initially, once he became a robot, Raph could sense many different things. Donnie did a tremendous job of making his brother as comfortable as possible in a mechanical body. Raph at that time was able to feel temperatures, textures, pressure, almost all tactile things in general. He could also feel smells and hear voluminous sounds. And his mechanical body was much more receptive to his condition. He shuddered when he was cold, he flinched if he was frightened. He didn't have to consciously want to make a movement to make one. Donnie wanted to make sure that the robotic body would be as responsive as the real one. Or at least...close to it.

Unfortunately, mechanisms can get old and break down. Especially in such an aggressive environment.

Gradually, over time, Raph lost most of his "sensory organs" He can still feel when he touches something, can feel different levels of pressure, but temperature and textures no longer exist for him, nor do smells. He can hear well, but it is increasingly difficult for him to understand where the sound is coming from. Also, due to the loss of his eye, he can no longer perceive the depth of space normally.

Also, his robotic body barely expresses his unconscious reactions and quirks. If he wants to do something, he needs to make a conscious effort to do it. That's why he looks so “calm” most of the time.

In fact, over time, Rafe goes from "this is just like my normal life" to "now this is a video game interface" and let me tell you, some of the keys are sticking out more and more.

————————

And yes. He can feel it when he is being taken apart to be repaired. It's not absolutely terrible, but he doesn't like the feeling. But not sensing anything at all is even worse for him. So, every time Donnie offers to turn off the sensors for the repair, Raph refuses.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #riseofthetmnt #cass apocalyptic series #future raphael #raphael #casey jones #casey jr

[rdbrainz]

Man… whatever… cyberpunk AU stuff inspired by the Future Society summons in BBS + a Franceska/Di Roy piece just because I can, duh!

Loose translation: 1) "Outdated models are dearer to me than any software that connects to the chip with no problem whatsoever"; 2) Nnoitra: Army prosthetics from god knows where. The eye implant is barely working and the only thing he uses in it is a built-in light. Nnoitra hardly has any money to fix it so he's left to deal with terrible migraines. Ulquiorra: High-quality rewired brain chip with a hack safety + an outdated old-fashioned prosthetic and both have to be connected by a cable for netrunning purposes. Because "It was very popular back when I was a kid…" So basically nostalgia. Grimmjow: Absolute dogshit prosthetics since he is a victim of the poorly installed and maintained implants in the lower class. Bazz-B: Got one of the most expensive and advanced prosthetics with a sensor that reads texture and temperature information for free. Modified it with a naked chick drawing to Jugram's chagrin since he's the one who bought it (and also chopped his arm off).

#let me know if you're interested in seeing more 😪 #bleach #bleach fanart #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #ulquiorra cifer #bazz-b #bazz b #di roy rinker #franceska mila rose #nnoitra gilga #arrancar

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Okay i lied , im not cutting off yandere sources cause i need Yves to cope with the high stress.

So here's some Yves content at the supermarket

Yves pays close attention to how and where your eyes linger at. Especially at grocery or other retail stores where there are a wide variety of objects. He notes down what catches your attention first, next and last, what caused you to do a double take and for how long. What colour, what texture, what shape and etcetera etcetera. He keeps count and remembers the sequences too.

It's fascinating, your habits change depending on the lighting, temperature, humidity, atmospheric pressure, smell and loudness of the area. Even the feeling of the flooring beneath your shoes would affect the duration you're willing to look at a product.

Yves would pretend to check the nutritional information of an item that claims to be "healthy" and "organic". But in actuality, he's watching you; do not underestimate his peripheral vision, it's almost as if he has eyes on the back of his head.

He would get a small rush of excitement whenever he predicts your next move successfully, shock and slightly more delightful when he's wrong; because that means he has discovered something new about you and must document his findings immediately.

How strange, you're exhibiting signs of under stimulation despite the fact that supermarkets usually fulfill your sensory needs, most of the time, overloading you. So Yves peruses the aisles even more, letting his heels clack against the tiled floors, pushing the shopping cart slowly and observing if the extra disturbances around you will do anything to your predicament.

But no, you're still uncomfortable. How interesting, how can Yves help you? He's dying to know, but he must run multiple tests discretely to find out.

However, before he could proceed, you walked up to him and stared at Yves in the eyes.

He replaced the can of diced tomatoes back onto the metal shelf before peering down at you. Yves intentionally chose to wear one of his taller heels to create that subconscious "guardian" role, making him ridiculously tall.

"Yes, dear?" He asked, bringing his fingers to your hair, gently brushing them away from your face. This seems to improve your mood, it made his heart skip a beat when he realized that you were craving for his touch.

You told him that it's nothing, you just wanted to see him.

Now that's not true, you wanted more but you're too shy and nervous to outright ask for it.

Yves smiled, softly coaxing you closer to his side, which made you automatically cling onto him and bury your head in his torso. Yves stroked your back rhythmically up and down.

While he lets you recharge in the side hug, Yves uses a free hand to inspect more canned items, he also likes guessing what additives might be added into each product and how much of each nutrient does it contain.

It's impressive how his brain works like a supercomputer with trillions of servers, his eyes, nose, ears, skin and tongue work as the world's best sensors. Yves is actively gathering the smallest, most detailed information about you, the environment, himself and whatever he has on hand. All that, without a struggle, without any clashes in thoughts or confusion in data. All that without overwhelming himself, not at all. He's in fact, very relaxed.

You let go of him when you had enough, but it seems you're not willing to fully part from his form yet as you're holding onto his large, smooth and manicured hand.

He walks to the next section of the aisle, pushing the trolley along with him and enveloping your smaller hand in his. He noticed that you've lost interest in looking around as canned goods bore you and you would very much rather look through shelves of candy and other junk foods. Where the companies work their predatory marketing tactics on unsuspecting customers like you.

If you wanted to, you would have left him alone to entertain yourself by now. But you're still stuck next to him as he reads the next list of ingredients.

He doesn't need to hide a delighted smile from you, as you're pushing your face against his lowest rib. Yves can express his glee at your very sweet and considerate gesture to accompany him despite your boredom.

He wanted to see how long you would last before he loses your consideration. That's why, Yves kept going through each can with you inching along next to him. Surprisingly, you're durable. But you're not exhibiting signs of weariness anymore, but instead, you're simply content and comfortable.

Strange. The buzzing, blinding lights above you and him, the monotony of the labels, the droning and other bustling noises would have driven you out of this aisle five minutes ago, let alone allow you to express... Happiness for being present. This isn't usual, Yves knows. He has observed you more times than you can count in this exact setting. Everything is more or less the same: the luminescence, the air quality and the decibels that your ears are picking up.

Except, the only variable that changed was him. His presence.

He gently called out your name, which prompted you to look up at him.

Yves pecked you on the lips, leaving a faint stain of his lipstick on your kisser.

"I love you." He whispered, biting onto his tongue immediately because he wanted to say much more. So much more. But he couldn't, it would be horrific for you to learn what he sees without your knowledge.

You stared at him, confused. Of course, you returned his words of affection. What baffled you was this glimmer in his breathtakingly beautiful, smiling eyes that would only appear if you did something extravagantly sweet and loving for Yves without expecting anything in return.

Like giving him a meaningful gift that you toiled for, trying your best to serenade him with an original piece of romantic music, going above and beyond to please or pamper him... What did you do?

Yves lets out a soft laugh as he watches you struggle to contain your excitement at the prospect of receiving that reward later at home. He can feel your tremors as you hold onto his hand.

Well, whatever it is, it surely earned you a very big reward. You're not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so you gracefully accepted the silent message from Yves.

But for now, he must buy the groceries needed for the week, and all the ingredients to make your favourite dish of all time.

He pushed the cart to the next aisle, bringing you along with him.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader

[generic-sonic-fan]

Team Dark and weighted blankets.

Rouge has a weighted blanket in her closet. It's old, ripped on one corner, its beads long since spilled out onto floorboards of houses that are no longer homes. She used to hide under it, before she went to the therapy to treat the anxiety that plagued her. Now it's a relic, a reminder of her progress. She doesn't need it anymore, she tells herself, but she can't bring herself to get rid of it.

(She takes bubble baths instead. The warmth and weight of the water are a decent replacement.)

But then a neighbor sets off fireworks and now Shadow is hyperventilating on the floor of the living room. She sprints to her closet. She tugs the blanket from beneath the shoe racks, drags it across the floor (because she forgot how heavy it is all bunched up like this,) and lays it over him.

He doesn't take it off for the next two days.

Rouge comes home with a new one and leaves it folded beside the couch. Shadow insists they don't need to have it out. For a moment she listens. She puts it in the pantry. The next day they wake up to find it's been thrown over the back of the couch.

"USE EVERY TOOL AT YOUR DISPOSAL TO REGULATE THE SENSORY NEEDS OF YOUR PRIMITIVE MEAT BRAIN." Omega replies when asked.

The next time it's used is after a long day. Shadow slides onto the couch. Rouge ducks into the bathroom and Omega stops by his room and when they return he's got the blanket spread over him. Rouge jumps on the cushion next to him and chides him for being a blanket hog before sliding under it as well. It's a tight fit, the edge of the blanket only covering half of her. Suddenly Omega leaves the apartment and they spend the next fifteen minutes worried sick until he returns with a new blanket hanging heavy from his grasp. He tosses it onto Rouge, knocking the wind out of her and earning laughter from Shadow.

It's around this time that the two of them finally convince Omega that, yes, he can sit on the couch. No, it's not a sign of weakness or a show of tenderness or anything else that might compromise the image of an Ultimate Robot to join one's friends on the couch cushions. The trusty couch creaks, but holds.

And Shadow comes home with another blanket, this one sized for a queen bed, which neither he nor Rouge own.

"I DO NOT REQUIRE SUCH A PATHETIC FABRIC DEVICE. I DO NOT GET COLD. ADDENUM: I AM INCAPABLE OF REGISTERING COMPLEX TEXTURES ANYWHERE BUT MY HANDS. THERE IS NO BENEFIT-"

Shadow throws the blanket over his legs and he stops. Unlike the flimsy, unweighted blankets that used to occupy this living room, Omega's cruder pressure sensors can register the force of this one. The constant yet gentle registration of pressure keeps bringing his awareness out of his own processor and back to the external world.

It is. . . grounding.

(He calls it "tolerable" but Rouge sees him take the blanket to his room at the end of the night.)

Soon there isn't a single normal blanket in the apartment anymore. Any old ones with sentimental value get stuffed in Rouge's closet, and have been retrieved only once since.

(After a long day of saving the world from disaster, Sonic decides to crash at their place. One problem: he hates weighted blankets. He's known this since he got Tails one. The pressure makes him feel trapped. Omega told him "TOUGH LUCK" but Rouge took pity and dug out the normal ones.)

Just. . . Team Dark and weighted blankets.

#sth #team dark #rouge the bat #shadow the hedgehog #e123 omega #e-123 omega

[shadow4-1]

Interchange - Call of Duty BodySwap/UniverseSwap!AU (SFW)

(A mission goes awry and you end up in a place quite dissimilar from your own.)

“Johnny no!”

You threw your entire weight against him, throwing him off balance. With a gasp he fell off the metal platform backwards, his gun clattering loudly to the ground. You fell with him, hitting your knees against the grating, still atop the platform. You tried to crawl off the edge but it was too late.

A bright, swirling heat began to emanate from the sensors above you. They bathed both you and Johnny in an alien light. You winced, almost completely unable to see the man in front of you. He tried to stand but he wasn’t quick enough to even get up on his knees. Somewhere in the room Price was screaming your name.

Something told you that whatever was about to happen was going to hurt.

You called down to Johnny over the few feet between you. You got one last good look at his bright, now scared, eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

The white light that had enveloped you faded away enough for you to see.

You blinked and blinked at the white spots still dancing in your eyes. You were still on the metal platform, nearly hanging off the edge. You could breathe again and so you greedily panted in the warm air. A trickle of sweat dripped down your brow and you blinked it out of your eyes.

“Ay, love!” Johnny yelled, now on his feet. “C’mere, I go’ ye.”

Your ears were still ringing from the loud hum of whatever energy had been released. Johnny sounded like he was talking through a filter. You tried to look down at his face but everything was still hazy. You reached an arm out to him and he took it. Uncharacteristically, he jerked your entire body forward, causing you to fall off the platform.

Something was off.

Instead of falling to floor, you managed to easily right yourself midair and land on your feet. You felt lighter, more agile, than before. It felt like maybe you’d lost fifty pounds except, well. You patted your hip curiously. You most certainly hadn’t lost any weight.

“Y’ broken?” Johnny asked again, his voice rougher than before. He patted the same section of your hip and you winced from his sudden touch. Even through the white haze still filling your vision you could still see his eyes widen in pure concern.

“Wh-Johnny!” You squealed. He hoisted you up in his arms and began to run at full speed for the exit.

Men were yelling and screaming at each other while attaching explosive charges to the metal equipment in the room. You blinked, and the texture of everything in the makeshift lab seemed far too grimy. The place had been spotless a second before the machine had gone off.

“J-Johnny…” You mumbled, feeling your stomach began to twist in knots.

Something was wrong. Something you couldn’t put a finger on.

“We’re almost out, love.” He panted, still running, both of your kits clinking with each footfall. “I go’ ye. I go’ ye.”

He kicked open a door with decidedly too much ease. Judging by how many men were swarming around tactical equipment and hurriedly loading up convoys you realized this had to have been the port of operations you’d come in from.

Except…everything was completely wrong.

The tactical gear the men wore were old, several iterations old in fact. The last time you saw that shade of camo had been on your father in one of your earliest memories. Most of the tech they were packing up was also older, and completely obsolete by your standards. Hell, one of the technical pads a man was holding, you’d played with as a kid. Even the convoy trucks were dated and beat all to hell.

You began to hyperventilate. This was wrong. You weren’t supposed to be here. Where were you? It was like before but not.

“‘Ey, easy now.” Johnny breathed, placing you down next to a truck. You leaned back against it for support. You looked down at your shoes.

Nothing you wore was as it had been before. You too were decked out in old fashioned fatigues with shit versions of your nice toys stashed into the pockets of your kit. Out of desperation, you tried reaching for your dad’s pocket knife.

“Woah! Easy there, love!” Johnny huffed. He grabbed your hand out of your pocket and pushed you up onto the hood of the truck. The way he touched you felt far too intimate for your liking. You tried to fight him but he was far too strong. “Hit yer head too? Y’ feelin’ alright? Y’ know m’ no’ gonna hurt ye, love.”

The white haze was thankfully beginning to clear up.

Despite your clearing vision, everything still looked wrong. The room was darker, dingier, and all around not the way it had been before. You tried to look around Johnny to see more but he grabbed your face in one of his hands. He forced you to look up at him.

“Look a’ me.” He demanded.

You did, and you gasped.

He was Johnny, it was no doubt about it. The same breadth of his shoulders, the same freckles and lashes and jawline. But he was different. Instead of the usual, almost baby face of your colleague, this man was chiseled with more pronounced cheekbones and slightly fuller lips. An unfamiliar scar ran down the left side of his face. He still had the same haircut and facial hair, although it was better maintained, slicked down and trimmed closer to military standards. The scent of him was still peppery and warm.

This Johnny used his gloved hand to pull down your bottom eyelids to get a good look at your eyes. He must’ve seen something that worried him.

“Oh no. No no no.” He tutted, his same blue eyes slanting in that way he did when he got nervous. The only difference were the heavy bags circling his lower lashes and turning into small, very uncharacteristic wrinkles.

“Garrick!” This Johnny screamed. “Medical now!”

“Johnn-”

“Yer gonna b’ fine, love. I promise.” He huffed.

With that, he took a quick glance around. Deciding the coast was clear he leant down to peck a soft kiss to your lips. He did it so quickly you almost didn’t even recognize the gesture. He’d made sure his body covered yours so that no one saw him do it either.

“Johnny what the fuck!” You squeaked, feeling complete caught off guard.

While you’d fucked around with him before, it’d always been under the watchful supervision of your lieutenant. After all, you were Ghost's, first and foremost. It was nothing official, but Johnny new better than to cross your superior by going behind his back and kissing you.

You tried to push him away but he had no give. An intense emotion of hurt washed across his face but it was quickly replaced with complete concern.

“GARRICK!”

“Aye, sir!”

You spotted a familiar figure trot over. He was dressed from head to toe in tactical gear, but you could recognize that blue hat anywhere. You began to sob and reach for him. Thank God, it was Gaz. He could probably tell you everything that was going on.

“Gaz!” You cried out, feeling delirious. “What’s going on, mate? Where am I?”

The man stopped dead in his tracks. He pulled off his goggles to get a better look at you. Come to think of it, you’d never seen him wear those before. You blinked away the haze. He was wearing a balaclava and he wasn’t wearing kohl. The skin surrounding his eyes, not covered by fabric, was a tan shade of pink.

That wasn’t Gaz.

You screamed bloody murder.

Before Johnny could grab you, you threw your entire weight backwards. Because of your newfound agility you had no issue in falling over the hood of the truck and landing on your feet. You were still screaming, even as you began to take off in a sprint. You chose a direction and ran.

No. No. No.

This was wrong. Everything was off.

These men you knew were imposters. It was them but it wasn’t them. This was some kind of cruel mindfuck.

You were sobbing and screaming and all noise was suddenly cut out at the source. You were jerked back so roughly the air was knocked out of your lungs. You tried to gasp for air, but a broad arm had wrapped itself around your throat. You choked, your legs began to buckle. Black spots began to form in your vision.

“M’ sorry, love.” This Johnny huffed, his voice breaking with emotion. He continued to choke you out until you faded into complete unconsciousness.

“M’ so sorry.”

#cod imagines #john soap mactavish #mw2 headcanons #captain mactavish #call of duty x reader #soap imagine #soap x reader #soap mactavish

[nil-nothing-nada]

Mr. Qi Headcanons

(A lot of these are based around the idea that he's secretly super powerful and is restraining himself most of the time because that's one of my favorite traits in a character, hehehe. Also, I am a sucker for freaky, supernatural biological traits if you can't tell by my ocs...)

"Immortal"

Agender (Any Pronouns)

Bisexual

Full name is Adam Qi. (First name is by his mother, last name is inherited from his father)

Uses any pronouns, but if often referred to as a male since that's what he's used to. He's all around pretty relaxed about his gender.

Doesn't like his first name because it reminds him of his past humanity, so he never tells it to anyone. He prefers that people refer to him as Mr. Qi or just Qi.

Frighteningly good at masking and pushing down his emotions so that all he displays is cool confidence. Even in the worst situations he seems incredibly diplomatic and slow to anger, though if you somehow happen to see past this facade, you can tell that he is extremely volatile and barely able to restrain himself. Only a few specific things will ever cause the mask to slip, but when it does, he'll explode with uncharacteristically violent anger. Cheating at any of his games especially pisses him off, and he has "disposed" of the worst offenders.

Tries to keep a smile on his face all the time to better hide his intentions. (No, this isn't a reference to Alastor from Hazbin Hotel, sadly.)

Was human at one point, but is completely unwilling to talk about it. He becomes aggressive if he's pushed too much on this topic.

Around the time he turned 19, Mr. Qi was unwillingly possessed by a sort of "will of the universe" that has been jumping from person to person for eons. At first he was terrified, but since then he has grown to enjoy the power he received from it, despite the loss of his humanity.

Mr. Qi himself is only 32 years old, but he has memories and knowledge from countless centuries of lifetimes so he's often referred to as immortal.

The universe's will is always searching for its next heir, and Mr. Qi believes the farmer could be a perfect fit if they are given the right encouragement.

His clothes are made of an enchanted fabric that slightly shimmers like the night sky. It's also quite light and comfortable, as he is picky about the textures of the clothes he wears.

Very sensitive to touch, and hates when people touch him without permission.

Geiger counters and other sensors for hazardous materials go off around him, detecting him as the element polonium or the chemical hydrogen cyanide. Despite this, he is not actually harmful to be around in any way.

If he's angry he creates a static-y aura that can cause unprotected machinery around him to glitch and short circuit. He can also use this power on command, but he has to focus on it. (For visual reference, think about how Mono from Little Nightmares II tunes into the TV transmissions.)

Is fully immune to radiation. Additionally, all toxins have minimal effect on him and cannot kill him, although they might make him sick for a bit.

Regenerates from any damage immediately. He still feels pain like a normal person, but he usually just pushes past it.

He can't really control his strength, but he's usually only about as strong as a decently-exercised human. However, he becomes much stronger when he's truly angry, to the point where he'll clench his fists hard enough to break his bones. This power usually only lasts for very short bursts, though.

Is inhumanly agile and very quiet when moving. He frequently sneaks up on people unintentionally and startles them.

Has pointed, shark-like teeth and small, sharp claws. His claws are always partially out, but he can extend them further if he needs to.

Has a split tongue that is a bit longer than a normal human's.

His skin glitters and looks slightly iridescent in certain lights.

His eyes are impossibly dark, yet seem to sparkle like they contain small universes. Looking in them without preparation causes immense cosmic dread in the viewer, so he wears his reflective sunglasses to cover them.

His blood is dark like space and has a slimy texture.

Growls when he's angry and purrs when he's content. However, he hates purring around other people because it ruins his mysterious, threatening persona. (If I headcanon that someone growls threateningly I gotta make it so they purr too. Sorry, I don't make the rules...)

#mr qi #mr qi sdv #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley mr qi #stardew valley #mr. qi #sdv #sdv headcanons #sdv fanfic

[museofthepyre]

hello where do u find ur bones. i am so jealous of your collection. do the bone gods rain bones in your local forest to bless u in particular ……….

EEEE WONDERFUL QUESTION!!! I’m gonna ramble because this is my favourite question!!!!

Generally, the best stuff lies where human feet dare not tread! Which means veering off trail, if it’s safe for you to do so. I’m lucky enough to have a few decent sized forests scattered around my area, and I’ve always had the best luck with the less trailed, more remote, not row-planted, all around less human-populated forests. You’ve gotta dwell where the critters do!!! Which is away from trails, in nice shady areas, under big trees and logs, etc. Bonus points if you can find a forest that’s near a source of water (river, pond, creek, etc), or farmlands— that’s where wildlife tends to really thrive, and where there is life, there will be death! It also helps to get to know the living wildlife— knowing what animals you might run into (alive or not) is quite helpful. Everything I’ve got has been collected over the span of a good few years— you pick up a lot of skills just through trial and error :3 every forest is different, and will have different patterns.

Also, once you’ve been bone hunting for a while, you kinda develop magpie eyes for it… Its like a sixth sense for picking out bone shapes and colours and textures amidst the leaf litter. Only problem is, I can’t turn the sense off now… sometimes I’ll be in a store or something, and I’ll see some vaguely bone shaped napkin on the ground… and I’ll instinctively whip around to investigate, the bone detector beeping in my head. Then I realize I’m in a store. There are no bones here. False alarm. The sensors are a bit overactive.

On a more esoteric note, if it suits your fancy, I like to build a sort of relationship with the forests I explore. I’ll bring little offerings of birdseed, dried flower petals, herbs, etc— and I’ll find a spot to leave them (with love!), as a preemptive “thank you for having me”! I even speak to the forest sometimes. If I see a pretty tree, I tell it it’s pretty. If I see pretty mushrooms, I’ll literally verbally tell them how gorgeous they are. And if I take any bones— I always say “thank you”. Does this have any effect at all? No clue! But I like to think it does.

I encourage complimenting your local natural landscapes! Be nice to them and they just might be nice to you!

#bone collecting #vulture culture #bone collector #bones #animal bones

[professionalscrublord]

The Black Marauder IIC

Turnaround:

WIPs:

The "Black Marauder" is a horror story of a cursed mech. Over the years urban legend has built it up into some kind of extradimensional beast, a living machine that moves of its own volition, consumes the souls of its victims and strikes fear in all that come close to it. It emerges from mist and shadows to kill efficiently and mercilessly before disappearing once more.

So I know the story says it looks like an inner sphere MAD-3R, but the way it's described as looking "Off-proportioned" and "Too smooth, almost organic-looking" makes me think it's a IIC. That and it having "Teeth", which the IIC's array of chin-lasers could be mistaken for. It also has a tendency to oneshot mechs with PPCs to the cockpit, which only Clan PPCs have the damage to do reliably. It performs unusually well in smoke/fog (advanced clan sensors perhaps?). Maybe the pirates didn't recognize what they were looking at given they lived on the opposite side of IS space from the Clan invasion front. It's also black with bits of red, the paint scheme of a certain Wolf's Dragoons "mercenary company" (read: Clan spies roaming IS space) which would explain the lack of factory markings/serial numbers. The stories mention weird behavior and unidentifiable mechanical issues so it could've been left behind since it was a liability, stripped of insignia and left on a forsaken airless asteroid in some random uninhabited system to conceal the trail. That's just my pet theory, anyway.

Pictured: Teefies (and bloody claws)

This one was difficult for a different reason, not painting this time but being my first time working with greenstuff and sculpting/modifying a miniature.

The paint job itself was fairly quick because of the almost uniform coloration despite the number of steps: -Primed with matte black -basecoated with Night Scales metallic black (It barely shows up, there is a faint glitter in some spots but mostly it looks like a slightly lighter black.) -Heavily drybrushed with Rough Iron, a dark rust color metallic -Lighter drybrush with Gunmetal, grayish/silver metallic. at this point I thought it was too light/shiny so I went over some panels with matte black paint, keeping away from the edges I'd drybrushed. -Mars Red in the eyeholes. White on the lasers/cockpit later covered with Red/Green/Blue speedpaint. -Blood Red speedpaint over the "monstrous" bits. It disappeared into the black, until: -Gloss varnish over the speedpaint brought the red back out again. I wanted everything to be black but still have the monster bits to stand out texturally, the gloss makes them glisten nicely. -Anti-shine matte varnish on the rest. That still looks pretty shiny to me but what can you do (Vantablack miniature paint, anyone??) -The label says MAD-BLK in the Standard Galactic Alphabet. At some point I knew how to read/write it after it featured in Minecraft enchantments, though by now I lost that and had to look it up.

The sculpting was interesting. -Green stuff is tacky and sticks to my fingers when fresh, hard to apply to the model in a careful manner, but is pretty easily workable on the model, once it's on. At some points I used metal sculpting tools almost like chopsticks to avoid touching it with my hands. I twisted a pointed tool like a little drill bit to get the eyeholes in. -Getting closer to the 1hr mark it stiffens up and becomes the opposite. Easier to apply and get off my fingers but harder to work into the shapes I want and fit in the crevices for a good hold. -The claws are superglued given they're sticking out a fair bit. Roughed up the plastic surface before applying glue for a better bond. The other greenstuff I trusted to stay on since they were molded into the surfaces pretty closely. -The blood was red ink Speedpaint mixed with good old AK water medium.

I'll have to do more modding in future, truly customize my mechs.

Last Lance of Cardinal Sins featured a Zeus, only too late did I have the idea of modding a ZEU-X with the wing-like cooling vanes. Fortunately I have a King Crab waiting for me (my favorite mech!) to make a prototype KGC-010 with. It has flush-mounted dual PPCs with spiky cooling vanes sticking out the back. Should be fun.

#battletech #mechwarrior #miniature painting #green stuff #modeling #sculpting #art #sci fi #monster #ghost stories #urban legends #eldritch #horror

[theinfamousdoctorf]

Hello! I was just rereading Eclipse meets his match and noticed something amusing- did eclipse forget he can close his modesty panel? Cause he did have have one at the start! when he first got Moons old body, but after that its not mentioned again which makes some of the embarrassing situations a little more funny in that he could have just closed the panel and saved himself some suffering- Like when he didnt want Earth there for his leg thing because he'd have to take his pants off. Or is he just so horny that he cant close it? Does he just not notice it opening when he starts uh- getting "excited"? lol I know the answer is probably "No, not really" but is eclipse okay?? Does Sun need to teach him about modesty (lol) too? like he did with the binning bad thoughts to prevent spirals? I thought it was kinda funny that everyone else can close themselves up and then here just eclipse, for some reason making it worse for himself lol

No... what that is is me not explaining what it's supposed to be well enough. By modesty panel I just meant the piece of their shell that is between their legs. For the male ones it is a thing that opens. For the sleeves it's the metal part that's around it and it doesn't move. [Unless you're opening the panel like a cabinet door to get at the bottle and wires behind it.] That's why when Eclipse first brushed it with his hand he hit the sensors directly and startled himself. I feel like the bumps are about the size of a flat decor marble and only raised 1/2 inch from the surface at most. Think like those silicone sensory toys with the bubble-wrap texture. He wouldn't have a cameltoe unless he was bent all the way backwards to make his pants as tight as possible. But it's just there. I don't think the metal around it being moveable would be ideal since it would need to really take a beating around the hole if it's being used properly.

[The fact that it's a static thing with no moving parts is also the reason it's the cheapest default apart from just not having anything there at all.] Eclipse is a little stuck on how to handle it. He can leave it dry and futz around with having a bottle of oil in his pocket; but that's not great since it would be heavy and he's not wearing a belt to keep his pants up. Putting on underwear to pad it runs the risk of the cloth getting caught in his leg joints. [The pants work because the rolled edge seams are nowhere near the joints so they just float over them.] Notice I don't mention Sun wearing his booty shorts unless it's the only thing he has on. They're not tight. And it's not like he has pubes to catch the moisture at all. It just seeps directly into his pants. There's a reason I gave him black pants, it makes the stain a bit less obvious. Sometimes you just gotta run to the bathroom, pat things dry and get on with your day. Am I right fellow sleeve-havers?

#eclipse meets his match #tsams #emhm #tsams eclipse

[tmbatcat]

YEAH!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!!! TELL ME ABOUT YOUR SKILLS!!! :D!!!!!

HEELL YYEE!!! Let me just spill my guts out !!

This may be a little long :]

(You may know this but is good to recap)

Ok, small story time! Basically I drew them becourse I read spilledkaleidoscopes works and in the second part Kim gets his own skills and there are only 8 and I was like "Fuck, If I were to make my own skill I am not forced to the albatrairie number 24 and also not forced to include all of physique and motorics gangs and i could just mix and match and nobody would care." so that's basically what I did

i took me 20 hours to figure their designs out (I am not kidding btw, i looked through the ibispaint recording) and 10 more to render them out to a point that i would say it's acceptable (i would have stayed longer if i wasn't physically and mentally tired of this little project and i also told myself that they will never be perfect and that OK)

more drawings for your pleasure (some not posted yet)

Ok now let's actually talk about the 8 dummies: (i will compare them to Harry's skills and other stuff for better understanding)(also I will includes an edgy description) [anything in square brackets are just my notes over the skill]

DOUBT - LOGIC + anxiety + masking - Logic tainted by how many times you got burned. You now know what to hide; all your cracks and imperfections. Your mask won't peel from your face, you forgot to take it off at some point and now you don't ever remember what you look like. Good luck with that, people would hate you more without it and you know it; I bore that though your head everyday.

[The little Jean in all of us. A strung up anxious mess that can't understand that people actually like you and that perfection is impossible. A lil hater.]

MECHANICAL HEART - EMPATHY + video game/movie logic - Understansing through empathy and pattern recognition. Don't understand someone? That's OK, use your vast knowledge of media to put them into little boxes and label them. People are more complicated than that but I am just a tool. I tune in on everyone and everythings frequency and if you don't understand something you look through the file drawer of your mind.

[My internet riddled brain can only understand tropes. I have so much brainrot that it can not be contained, it spreds to everything]

SENSOR - ENDURANCE + PERCEPTION + INTERFACING + autism - Caretaker of the temple. For other people it's automatic. Sadly, yours isn't. You forget to eat if nobody reminds you. So that's why I'm here. Your nerves are also more sensitive than most. It doesn't help that the world has so many textures and hard edges. I relay all the info as soon as I get it, though it's late most of the time.

KNOW-HOW - ADHD info dump (basically ENCYCLOPEDIE) - Keeper of the librarys. You know, your mind is like a library, but without any of the labeling a normal library would use. More of a big collection of storys and fun-facts you know. When you don't ask them for a piece of information in particular, they chime in with something that is vaguely connected to the conversation.

WILLPOWER - VOLITION + a crumb of SHIVERS - Makeing peace with it all. I am silent most of the time but not, because I don't care. I talk only to remind you of the world's humanity. When you are at ypur lowest. You need to go on. You can take a break, maybe cry a little, but never actually give up. The world doesn't end with you, and it's worse without you in it.

[they don't talk a lot cuz I am a depressed lil bitch]

DAY DREAM - INLAND EMPIRE + VISUALIZATION + CONCEPTUALIZATION - Close your eyes and see other worlds. Colors, characters, ideas, scenarios; all swirling in that little head of yours. They just make the puppets move for your own amusement. They unfortunately play with your puppet too, making you watch scenarios wherein you die a lot, but what can you do? You can't stop it. It has it upsides through, mainly escapism.

CHASE - ELECTRO-CHEMISTRY + ADHD hyperactivity + autistic hyperfixation - Longing for paradise and ambrosia. Comfort over anything else. They love to indulge and party. Not actually party. You know, more like watching youtube alone or with friends while eating chips at 2 AM. That is your type of party. Your batteries run low most of time, so a good game and a snack also work.

[ELECTRO-CHEMISTRY but a bit chiller, no drug related stuff, if sugar doesn't count. They just love good brain juice]

FLARE - HALF LIGHT + PAIN THRESHOLD - The fire that burns within us all. A caged animal that hisses at anything that comes near. In general it sits in corner, waiting, only popping it's head out to shriek profanities at whatever rattled the cage. All bark, no bite. A problem that you have is that you forget how people wronged you, but I'm here, I remember. Only emotions, but that is enough. You shouldn't give out so many second chances.

[stressed out little creature]

They also hate each other so fucking much AAAAAA I have a headache

I also wrote a small story with all of them in another post... I want to write some more small storys of mine if i could think of anything funny that happend and that would work in the Disco Elysium dialog style

you can also make your own skills if you want, i may be annoying but I believe in you <3 don't know what else I could add

#aaa looot of text #sorry guys #this is a long one #my bad #text #my skills #you just activated my hyperfixation :] #disco elsyium #my art #digital art #art

[spacecowboyhotch]

Kinktober Day 3: Be Mine

summary: they’re just gloves. that’s what you continuously tell yourself.

kink: glove (and hands) kink

pairing: fem!reader x din djarin

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, yearning, fingering, friends to lovers

AN: kicking off kinktober with our sweet space cowboy din. in the words of my wife amber, LET THE SLUT FLAG FLY!

word count: 1.4k

kinktober masterlist | misc. masterlist

Leather. An orangish yellow and black.

They’re just gloves. That’s what you continuously tell yourself. But you trace the seams of those gloves with your eyes, day in and day out. You imagine how they’d feel against your bare skin, a contrasting combination of smoothness and texture. His warmth would probably seep through the material, burning you with every stroke of his touch, lighting your body afire.

You’ve never been enticed by the sight of someone in a specific article of clothing before. That all changed when you met the Mandalorian. His armor is a subject for a different time, you could go on and on about it, but there’s something about his hands. Something about the way he flexes his fingers in the tight material of his gloves.

Sometimes when you’re close enough you can smell them. Oaky, smoky fabric that invades your nostrils. You try not to breathe too deeply when he’s near, knowing of all the sensors in his helmet but sometimes your arousal gets the best of you.

Unbeknownst to you, he notices and thinks he understands your behavior. You think that you’re being discreet but he’s the Mandalorian, he sees everything, even the things no one wants him to see. There’s only so much of it he can take— he despises the idea of you being afraid of him, especially because of how much he genuinely relishes you. You’re a breath of fresh air and coupled with the Kid, you give him a taste of what life could be like outside of all this. There’s some guilt around that, the dreaming and fantasizing of more, but he sticks to his creed. At least he can have you at his side while he does his duty.

But, it becomes too much, festering under his skin. The way your eyes are always on him, darting away if he glances at you. It weighs on him, and eventually, he confronts you needing to know.

“Do I scare you?” He asks as the two of you board the Crest after a successful bounty.

“What?” You frown at his question, staring at the black t of his visor with confusion.

He sighs deeply through his modulator, “Do I scare you?”

You hear it in his voice, the fear, the sadness. Almost everyone is some sort of afraid of him except for a chosen few, the Kid included.

“No. Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“You watch my hands,” He says simply. It’s not accusatory, just a fact he’s stating.

Shit.

“Noticed that, did we?” Your voice cracks, and you try to keep your eyes off of his hands that flex at his side.

Was he doing this on purpose?

“It’s hard not to. Were you trying to hide it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It’s rude to stare,” You offer the excuse with no conviction, and he tilts his head in curiosity.

“Tell me the truth.”

“What makes you think I’m not telling the truth?” You question defiantly.

“Your heart rate is increasing. Your voice has gone up an octave. You won't look at me.”

Damned sensors.

“Maybe you're intimidating.”

There it is– he was right all along. Even as he expected it, his heart drops out of his chest and into his stomach.

“So you are scared of me.”

“No, Mando, I’m not,” You try to reassure him but offer no more explanation, trying not to compromise yourself.

You can feel him pull away, retreating into himself as he straightens up and looks away from you. He lets out a ragged breath, full of resigned acceptance. It’s not a surprise, you’re just another person to be frightened of him, to condemn him because of his creed.

“Get some rest, we leave early in the morning,” His voice is sharper, colder than usual and he starts towards the cockpit.

Your hand comes out to stop him, resting on his armored forearm, “Mando, wait.”

He looks at you expectantly, his eyes practically burning through the metal of his helmet and into you.

“I’m not afraid of you. I’m…I’m attracted to you.”

“Attracted to me,” He repeats dumbly.

“To your gloves. Your hands. All of you, but those especially.”

He turns towards you, large and towering, “What about them?”

“They’re broad. Strong, precise. Competent.”

“Do you think about them? About me?” He hates how needy he sounds, but he has to know he's not in this alone.

“All the time,” You admit timidly, a smile you don't even notice pulling at your lips.

He can't help but smile under his helmet. He thinks about you all the time too.

“Tell me more.”

“How they’d feel against me, against my skin. How good you are with them. That you could make me feel good.”

There’s a long pause, his stare holding you in place and anxiety starts to bubble in your stomach. You can’t believe you’ve just said all of this to him. He finally speaks again, his words surprising you.

“Is that what you want? For me to make you feel good?” His tone is suggestive, and your knees go a little weak as something stirs hot in your lower belly.

Oh.

“Y-yes.”

“Then let me.”

Your response dies in your throat but you nod as he crowds you against the wall, wasting no time as he slips a gloved hand under your waistband and into your panties. He can feel how wet you are already by the way his fingers glide through your folds. The thought of feeling your arousal makes him moan, and he presses his thumb tightly to your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. You rest your head back against the wall, mouth agape in pleasure as you melt in his arms.

How often have you both thought of the other like this? Too many times to count.

“Mando,” You whimper as he begins to tease your opening, sliding just the tip of a gloved finger in and out of you.

He presses his helmet against the side of your face, craving your skin against his. He can’t go there, not yet at least.

“Do you want more than this? Do you want to be mine?”

“I already am,” You breathe softly and something deep in his heart squeezes.

“Then it’s Din. Call me Din.”

“Din,” You test his name on your tongue, and it feels strange in your mouth. You love it though. Love that you have this piece of him that’s special, secretive.

“Gonna make you cum now, angel,” He whispers, and the chill of the modulator coupled with the wanting in his voice makes you tremble against him.

He works you over in earnest now, thumb pressed firmly against your clit while two fingers thrust deep. The rough, textured pads of his gloves are deliciously too much, teetering you on the borderline of overstimulation. But this is exactly what you wanted, this band of pleasure pulling tighter and tighter at his command has been on your wishlist since the moment you saw him. He can see how you like the thin line of pleasure and pain, watches how your skin warms through the sensors of his helmet.

“Din, baby,” You can barely choke the words out, breath caught in your throat as he hits the deepest spot inside of you over and over with precision.

“Cum all over my glove. I know you want to. Cum for me,” He commands, though it rings in his ears as a plea. He wants to see you, needs to see you cum, wants to collect every twitch and gasp that you’ll produce from reaching your high.

“I’ll cum for you, I’ll cum all over your fingers, I will just-“ Your babbling is cut short by your orgasm that hits you out of nowhere like a tidal wave. You feel it intensely as it washes over every nerve in your body, filling you to the brim with a pleasure that you release in a series of needy moans.

“Good girl, that’s it,” He sounds completely wrecked, and you haven’t even touched him yet.

He pushes his two fingers into your mouth, letting you savor the married tastes of leather and your arousal by pumping them in and out. You lap at the fabric eagerly and he groans at the sight of you filthy and desperate like this.

When you licked up all your slick he removes his fingers from your mouth and orders you to watch him closely. You do just that, your eyes trained on his hands. At an achingly slow pace, he removes his gloves, and you see his bare hands for the first time. Broad, smooth skin that’s calloused. You want them all over you.

“Ready to cum on my actual fingers?” He asks, an undercurrent of eagerness laced in his voice.

“Yes.”

if you’d like to be added the pedro characters taglist lmk!

p.p.c kinktober taglist: @lesbianhotch, @honeybrowne, @multiverse-mxdness, @fanofverymanythings, @angstyvirgin001, @jazzelsaur, @mccn-bcys

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #mando x reader #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #arson writes randos #arson’s kinktober #not sfw

[aetherceuse]

⟢ - Notes on UB-01 SYMBIONT 𝐍𝐈𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐎

Biology

UB-01 Symbiont, Nihilego, appear similar to jellyfish-like Pokémon. Their bodies are made from a flexible glass-like structure.

These creatures range in size anywhere from three feet long, all the way to forty feet in length from the top of the bell to the tip of the longest tendrils.

Texture wise, the bell is smooth, and the tendrils feel like glass fiber.

It is a parasitic entity; it protects and feeds itself by capturing living organisms in its tendrils and trapping them within its bell. Nihilego are often spotted floating through the depths of the Ultra Deep Sea with the captured prey still entangled in their glassy, translucent bodies.

A Nihilego’s neurotoxin is meant to relax its prey so that it does not fight its way out of its grasp; though Nihilego are deadly creatures, with tough exteriors, their interior is extremely soft and flimsy. Therefor, they developed the neurotoxin as a means of subduing prey and lessening the chance of their internal structure being damaged by flailing and escape attempts.

Nihilego are sexless creatures that reproduce through budding.

Their lifespans are currently unknown, but some accounts have claimed that they have witnessed massive Nihilego that had been alive for 100+ years.

Behavior

Nihilego travel in large groups, or “blooms”, with the largest blooms holding upwards of one thousand at a time.

They often rely on the currents of the Ultra Deep Sea to carry them, rather than exerting energy.

When floating in the air, Nihilego move and undulate just as they would if they were in water— very slowly, and meticulously, with tendrils dragging along, prepared to capture prey.

It appears that these beasts evolved not only to protect their interiors from prey, but to prey on humans and ultra humans specifically. They are able to manipulate their tendrils into different shapes, lengths and forms to create optical illusions. They are often observed mimicking the look and behavior of little children to appear defenseless.

Nihilego have also been observed mimicking Tentacruel, Jellicent, Octillery and even Dragalge.

Nihilego can camouflage themselves by tilting upside down onto their bells, and keeping their tendrils still, to look like Cursola.

Nihilego appear to be able to release its hosts at will, similar to regurgitation.

They make quiet, whispering noises that travel through the currents of the Ultra Deep Sea; there is no recorded translation of what this communication means. Those capable of reading the minds and hearts of Pokémon, or those who can simply communicate with Pokémon, would be met with otherworldly jibberish.

Nihilego heartbeats are also rather loud as well, so much that they echo through the air and ricochet off of solid surfaces if enough Nihilego gather in one space. (The heartbeat sound heard in the Ultra Deep Sea OST)

Additional notes on neurotoxin

The neurotoxin wears away at the nervous system gradually, first by numbing the pain sensors, and then eventually eroding at the brain itself.

Many symptoms of a Nihilego sting resemble Irukandji Syndrome, which is characterized by severe pain, muscle cramping, hypertension, and potentially life-threatening cardiac complications.

If not treated by a professional, Nihilego stings can become fatal within 48 hours.

Permanent nerve damage after being stung by Nihilego is common.

Longterm symptoms post-sting include body aches, neuropathy, joint buckling, paralysis, problems with positional awareness, brain fog, psychosis, and loss of vision.

Nomenclature

The beast’s name is derived from the Latin words nihil and ego, translating literally into “I am nothing.”

The code name “Symbiont” is misleading, as Nihilego’s parasitic nature does not contribute to a symbiotic relationship between it and any other species.

#{ Please do not reblog without permission. } #✧˖°.« 𝙼𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚑 » Headcanon

[a-stary-night]

Animus magic (Au talk)

So as I said in my last post I would talk about Animus magic and how it works in this au. I'll eventually post a map but theirs a small island south from the main land where Icewings live. Around those icy oceans one of the seawing tribes live. Due to sharing a home these seawings and Icewings interact a lot leading to a lot of hybirds. However, their not the only tribes to hang around there as the Nightwings and Icewings have slight tensions leading to them having dragons spying on each other. While the Nightwings make sure they don't tell their secrets about mindreading or future vision to the Icewings likewise the Icewings hide Animus magic from the Nightwings. However, the Nightwings have begun to work out theories on how Animus magic is acquired. Some suspect the snow, some the way the moon reflects off the snow and others suspect the bright lights that light up the sky day or night.

The truth is that Animus magic is made by the aurora borealis the bright colorful lights that light up the sky. However, the truth is worse than just leave an egg out and it might get Animus magic, since the bright colors also mean that the wyrmling inside the egg becomes weaker and more likely to die before hatching. Due to this Icewings have gained the tradition of burying their eggs to protect them from this light as the brighter the Aurora the weaker the wyrmling and the higher chance of death. Likewise Seawings living in those areas have been reported to hide their eggs in sea caves deep underwater or even in mud. Although it is more common to find them kept in a large metal box designed to hold the egg while giving enough space for the wyrmling to hatch unharmed.

If an egg is left out for whatever reason then the brightness of the Aurora tends to impact how strong the Animus magic and how likely it is for the egg to die.

At it's weakest it usually causes level 1 Animus. These Animus dragons can influence the emotions and feelings of dragons by enchanting items to change color, texture, shape based on the dragon's holding it's emotion. They can also enchant items to influence other dragons mood. This is also the easiest of them to break out of since the main factors towards breaking out of Animus magic is 1) realizing it is animus magic 2) mental fortitude. Just how much you can mentally fight against it. The chances of the egg dying when kept out are roughly 50/50

Level 2 animus comes from when the light is stronger. This is the level of intensity it is normally under. With a solid 70% chance that eggs left under it's light will never hatch. Dragons with Animus level 2 are able to mess with other dragons sensors. Making soft stuff feel hard, making cotton feel like metal. They can also mess with a dragons sense of sight making a rock look like it's gold. Once again unable to enchant a dragon directly they tend to use jewelry and items to enchant dragons.

On the rare night it glows at full power dragons hatched under it will have level 3 animus magic. Able to actually change a rock into gold, able to extinguish a firescales, firescales. They are the strongest and most feared. Yet, almost all eggs left out will die. Only about 5% survive and even then the dragons are usually smaller than normal and very sickly. Even they can't make an inanimate object move on it's own. Theirs always work arounds for those creative enough. I.E instead of 'spear kill Snowfall' you can say 'make anyone who holds this spear want to kill Snowfall' Being the hardest to fight only other animus or those familiar with it have a chance to fight back against it's power.

How do Animus gain power? you have natural ability which is typically level 1 or 2 this is the power that a dragon is hatched with. However, they can grow stronger through training. Using their abilities more and getting more familiar with it can make a dragon hatched as a level 2 animus become as powerful as a level 3. Making those hatched with level 3 that receive the right training something to truly fear.

tribes beliefs and customs around Animus dragons;

Icewings; they believe that Animus dragons are a blessing and a curse from the sky. That every unhatched dragon becomes fused with the colorful sky, trapped forever. That those hatched aren't much better off as each spell wears away their soul bit by bit until their heartless and cruel. So they tend to keep Animus dragons under a close eye to make sure they don't overuse their magic however their is no strict limit for how often they can or cannot use their magic, only that it must be kept to important situations. I.E making a earring for a lover is bad, making your claws strong enough to kill another dragon in self-defenses, good.

Seawings; the southern tribe believe animus dragons are by nature heartless and cruel and that no matter how much or little magic they use it's pointless. Instead they should be taught to serve their queen/king, abandon all love and never have eggs. Due to these harsh rules most Animus either flee or are killed for refusing to obey the queen/king. You can find each and every animus dragon killed name written on the castle wall as a warning to other animus dragons.

In the Northen tribe where Animus magic is much rarer they believe only purebreed dragons can have Animus magic and stories of hybrid Animus dragons are either made up to scare wyrmling's into behaving or overexaggerated stories. Otherwise they tend to have similar believes to the Icewings. That overtime the usage of Animus magic is what wears away at their soul.

Nightwings; They see Animus magic the same way they view future vision and mindreading as a tool rather than something to fear. Instead encouraging those with Animus magic to train and learn their own limitations so they can serve their tribe. They are given free pick over whoever they want as their mate with the exception that said mate must also agree. However, with how status oriented they can be very few would reject an Animus dragon unless they already had their heart stolen by another.

Skywings; They tend to share views with the Southern Seawing tribe seeing Animus dragons as already heartless. So if a wyrmling is found to be Animus they are given the same treatment as firescale, a free flying lesson. If they use their magic to survive they are either send to the queen/king for their fate to be decided if their parents are merciful or it is up to either parent to finish the job.

Sandwings; Almost no Sandwings have been reported to be Animus. However that doesn't mean their haven't been Animus sandwings rather they just don't have any protocol due to how rare it is. Typically if one is found they are taken to the queen/king for protection and for them to begin study but nobody is fully sure if that is what actually happens or not. Most Animus are too scared to find out if their queen/king is that merciful.

Rainwings; Similarly almost no Rainwings have been reported to be Animus. If a rainwing is found to be Animus it is assumed the tribe wouldn't do much about it. Seeing as they are highly communitive it is possible they would be given more responsibilities in looking after the tribe.

Mudwings; I can't believe I forgot about Mudwings. They also don't have many records of Animus dragons, however, they do have a protocol for if one is found. They and their sibs are given a special title depending on what their original jobs were where they pretty much have the same job as they had but with a fancy title. This also means they are given extra training to work up their Animus magic so they can protect their sibs if the need arises.

#wings of fire #wings of fire hybrid #wings of fire au

[epersonae]

ifwts tentacles??? 🤣🤣🤣 With a title like that, how can one help but require a snippet?

there is very little in the actual document, it is mostly in the conceptual phase, on my "someday" list, waiting for me to go back and finish re-reading @mxmollusca's amazing In Favor With Their Stars (because I need to get the vibes of the thing in my head again), but fuckit, here is all the text I have written so far, because at some point [checks document history: ok, all the way back in June] I got this one little bit in my head and decided I needed to put it down before I forgot:

He doesn’t always sleep in the full suit, but more often than not, because he does like a good cuddle as he’s falling asleep — and sometimes, to wake in the night with Stede curled close around him, and depending how Stede’s feeling when he wakes, well — it’s nice to sleep with the one you love. [does Ed still have the little kraken toy?] Stede’s been experimenting with higher-fidelity textures, lately, as Ed plays with different sensors in the suit. They enjoy tinkering together

And yes, it does cut off mid-sentence. I swear, this fic will happen at some goddamn point, I have no idea when, but there are little images and ideas that just kind of float into my head from time to time, and I very much want to make it happen.

#ofmd #ofmd fic #my fic #my writing #ask games #tag games #I don't quite yet have the words for the sensations I want to explore with this #I know what I *want* it to be and it will take some time and thought to get there #EVENTUALLY I SWEAR #tfw you want to write something but it's riiiiiight at the edge of your skills