#queue like a butterfly

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Because nobody ever suspects the butterfly...

[purpleleafsyt]

Super ultra fast propaganda for the best bow mini tournament, you guys should vote for Lenore :]

@ultimatebabygirlsupremebattle​

[solarpunkani]

Not to say I'm cooking but I might be cooking

(Note: in this context, 'cooking' refers to 'combining 2 crochet patterns to make a cooler pattern, ie a hooded cloak consisting of butterfly stitches)

[evorathesylvurr]

Hm. Perhaps i should make a tag specific for Elpis (my limbus self insert) so that if i get followers they can filter out my cringe.

If anyone is interested in them:

This is them ^_^ their name is Elpis and they’re based off of Pandora’s box since i tend to go for names that start with E for my self inserts (E and S names, for Evora and Sora lol)

Their whole deal is that they had a class (its either a class or an orphanage, haven’t decided) where they spent most of their time w/ the vices in the box until the Bad Things Happened (tm) and Elpis is the only one left :(

They love faust. they are very sweet together and it is very autistic.

They're very much nonbinary and use they/them but they’re often referred to as a girl/by feminine terms (for an example in a oneshot i wrote of them, they are called "faust's girl").

Elpis is a character outside of the fact that theyre a self insert/self ship oc!! Their whole thing is flower language and that’s the a big thing in the way they express their (platonic!!) feelings towards the other sinners.

One of the little flower language things they do is at the end of a sinner’s canto is give them a flower that has a meaning relevant to them… i have a small list and reasons on my Elpis google doc but i dont have that available atm because mobile tumblr is weird lol.

Their little icon is meant to be both a flower and a butterfly! I didn’t want to just go with butterflies since butterflies mean hope BUT butterflies are already kinda taken by *checks notes* ryoshu’s icon, and every single ardor moth and other butterfly/moth themed abnormality.

Also the skirt is very much not super efficient in battle but hey. It works for them. and also they refuse to get rid of it.

Their primary weapon is an olive branch type thing with a lantern at the end. Like the SINGLE most stereotypical staff lantern thing. it also has a branch that they weave medicinal herbs onto :3

The lantern has easy break glass panes, though there is no door. The way the lantern works is they have to reset the Greek fire like substance (half a copout on what it actually is composed, half because Greek fire is interesting, and also half because she's from greek mythology), relight the candle carefully, and then put the panes back in. Her Big Attack(tm) lore wise is them smacking the enemy with their staff and the lantern shatters onto the enemy. I guess combat wise it would be a one time use inflict bleed & burn. like

[on hit] inflict x burn, inflict y bleed (can only occur once an encounter)

They still do damage just no burn/bleed :3 this is for balance purposes (and gameplay/lore integration because DAMN the PMVerse is great at that shit keep it UP /pos)

However because theyre really easily startled if you approach them from behind and they don’t see you, they have a really nasty habit of “swing first, ask questions later”. It’s to the point on the Elpis google doc i literally have a table of how many times they’ve set a sinner on fire by accident (as well as how many on purpose). It’s a source of comedy until it’s Not.

[wheucto]

catching butterflies

[fizzytoo]

[thevalicemultiverse]

To VD:

There is a legend of a legendary swordsman who was apart of a great war known as the Magic War. This swordsman was known everywhere in the medieval times as the most skilled and powerful swordsman in the world. Some legends say that he could awaken the spirits of the dead to accompany him in battle. He was also known as the Butterfly Spirit Swordsman.

Do you know what the amazing thing is?

His name is Vincent...

Vincent Van Dort.

Cuddlepile

Victor: [blinks a few times] What -- really?? I -- er -- I genuinely don't know what to say here. I've never heard of a Vincent in my family tree...but then again I don't know much about the Van Dort family line in general, really. Goodness, though, it would be interesting if we were related...

[munibani]

peaking his head into the rather large meeting room , b-127 or now known as bumlebee let his optics rest on their leader . mostly someone who had pretty much saved him from the sub level fifty . funny time how much that was possibly a week ago . now look at them all , it was changing as they took steps . fractions happened . everyone was all one was now in different groups .

from what he had understand they were now called the autobots , he liked the name ! way better than what he had in mind ( cough badassatrons squad cough ) , and now the decepticons . it didnt set well with him when he watched the two beings that he grew so fond of grow so apart , they were like family to him , though bumblebee wouldnt say it - it broke his spark .

it broke him when those own hands had raised against him hurting him . he forgives - the little guy always does after-all it was just a fit of rage right ? watching it all happen as it did - it burns into you . bit this wasnt about him , far from it . it was a talk he wanted to have with orio- no thats not his name anymore .

optimus prime . that was his name now .

" hey ! there you are ! i been looking for you optimus ! " he spoke waving his hand to him as it turned into a knife once more , letting out a nervous laugh as he sheaved it back again . got to get used to that . really get used to the feel like transforming . " say you got a second to talk ? i mean - if you are busy i dont mind waiting for you ! i know with you being the big bot now everyone well . . . everyone needs you ! looking out for your guidance now - "

he trailed off , rubbing his servos together in a nervous tick he had started to develop when it came to figuring out how to word what he wanted to say . with him being at his side now he was trying to figure out how to appear , in his optics more mature ? if that was what he was trying to say . not how others are still trying to get used to him . being locked down there for so long it takes some time to gain the social ques . " not that its a bad thing ! i just ha ha - im kinda of glitching this up arent i ? "

@tiris (hi dad love son)

[haledamage]

Dancing Lights

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAIT @queen-scribbles 💖💖💖💖💖!!!! Hope you're having a great day!

I bring you a gift of Etain/Vikkari, with him as Commander and her as the companion for a change 😉 she wanted to help him with what must be Azata path's biggest issue in the early days. fairly early in the game, I think, and definitely pre-relationship, but Etain definitely has a crush :3

---

Etain was staring.

She knew she was, and that she shouldn’t be, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

She just hadn’t expected the Commander to be so… adorable. Not that he wasn’t also powerful, and strong, and courageous, and charismatic, and all the things the leader of a crusade should be, but… Well, she’d assumed that the mysterious power that inspired the Fifth Crusade would have less… butterflies.

There were just so many of them. They’re like little dancing lights of blue and green and pink, catching Etain’s attention anytime she lowered her guard--which was more often than it should be, lately, but something about Vikkari put her at ease.

Like now. They’d set up camp on the edge of a thick copse of trees that seemed as safe as anywhere could be in the Wounded Lands. Dinner had already been eaten, and their group had split off to take care of their own business before sleep and watch rotations started.

Etain was supposed to be cleaning and restringing her bow, but got distracted halfway through the task, and now she was staring. At Vikkari. 

Again.

If he noticed, he didn’t seem bothered by it. His focus was on the small block of wood that he was carefully carving into, strong hands gently and meticulously coaxing it into shape. Butterflies flitted around his head, glowing softly in the falling daylight.

One of them landed on his nose, flexing its tiny teal wings. Vikkari shook his head to shoo it away, but it held fast. He lowered his whittling with a dramatic sigh, which fluttered the butterfly but didn’t dislodge it.

Etain couldn’t help it. She giggled.

She covered her mouth almost immediately after the sound escaped, but it was too late. Color bloomed over her cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears, but she managed--barely--not to pull up her mask to hide her face when Vikkari’s attention fell on her. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to--I, um--” she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and tried again. “I think you’ve got somethin’ on your face.”

His laugh finally dislodged his butterfly mustache, which flew away in a decidedly irritated way.

The laughter faded, but lingered in his eyes and the warmth of his smile. “Did you need something?”

“Oh!” She shook her head a little too quickly, dropping her gaze to her hands for a second before it was pulled back to the commander. “No. I was just curious about your… your butterflies.”

Vikkari finally (reluctantly? Or was that just wishful thinking on her part?) looked away from her to the jovial swarm fluttering around him. “There do seem to be an awful lot of them.” He sounded more amused than bothered by them.

Etain hummed in agreement, watching the glowing insects in consideration. She could feel the moment Vikkari’s attention returned to her, but she resolutely didn’t look back, in case doing so would make her forget what they were talking about. “Are they illusions? A manifestation of the magic of Elysium?”

He nodded slowly, getting lost in thought for a moment, before he finally said, “Maybe they’re like Aivu. Real butterflies, drawn here by…” he paused, smile faltering, “whatever this power comes from.”

The urge to comfort him was almost overwhelming; Etain would say almost anything to bring that smile back. “Or they could be local. Maybe they just think you’re a very interesting flower.”

Half of his smile came back, a crooked smirk that would look cocky on someone less charming. “Because I’m so pretty?”

“Because you’re sweet.”

A dazzling smile lit Vikkari’s face as an equally radiant blush spread across his cheeks. Her own cheeks flushed in response, and she ducked her head to hide it behind her half-unraveled braid.

Her eyes fell on her knapsack, and a sudden thought struck her. “Sweet,” she murmured to herself, an idea forming.

“What was that?” Despite his obvious curiosity, Etain knew he wouldn’t push if she didn’t want to share.

“May I try something?” She waited for him to nod before reaching for her bag, and dug around until she found a small bottle of amber liquid. The gentle pop of the stopper drew Pippin’s attention from dozing by the fire, but she ignored him and let a couple of drops from the bottle fall onto the back of her hand.

As soon as she held it out toward Vikkari, two butterflies changed trajectory to inspect, landing on her knuckles and flexing their wings with what could only be excitement.

Vikkari leaned closer, golden eyes glowing brighter in echo of the insects’ reaction. “What is that?”

Etain shrugged one shoulder, careful to keep her hand still. “It’s just honey.”

Eventually, the butterflies ate their fill and flew off to join the rest again--though they gave a little more respectful distance this time, she noticed.

Vikkari watched them in something like awe. Etain watched him in much the same way.

“So they are real.”

“I guess so.” She held her hand out to her side where Pippin waited patiently to clean the rest of the honey off of her hand.

The conversation ended there, meandering to other subjects--the Crusade, Vikkari’s whittling--before Seelah, Lann, and Aivu came over to join them. But Etain thought about it the next day while they traveled, and the one after.

Inspiration finally struck two days later, while the group traveled a road that cut through the middle of heavy forest. Etain walked parallel to the group, mask up and bow drawn, scouting the woods for ambushes; Lann took the other side, doing the same, with the rest of their collection of melee fighters and magic users on the road.

She didn’t find any ambushes (it had been waiting a mile up, in the middle of the road in plain sight), but she did find something else.

She brought it to Vikkari after dinner that night, relishing his surprised look when she held out the bundle of flowers in her hands. “May I?”

It took him a few seconds to reply, which made something warm settle in her chest. She didn’t know the Commander could be lost for words.

Eventually, he nodded. “Of course.”

Etain carefully unfolded the flower crown and placed it on his head, arranging it carefully against his (soft, how is his hair so soft this far from civilization?) hair.

As she’d hoped, the butterflies immediately took interest, coming in to land on the flowers instead of swarming around his head. Within moments, he had a halo of glowing wings, green and blue lights among the orange, pink, and purple flowers.

“Aster, phlox, lavender, and butterfly weed,” she said in answer to the question he didn’t ask. “Hopefully that will keep them out of your eyes, at least.”

He grinned at her, brighter than the fluttering crown he wore. “How do I look?”

“You look…” she blushed and looked away, unable to answer honestly and unwilling to lie. “I’d offer to show you, but I don’t own a mirror.”

“Thank you.” His voice was too soft, too warm, and it just made her blush darker. As always, he was kind enough to give her an escape route from her own embarrassment, and changed the subject. “What are the rest of them for?”

“Oh.” Etain had almost forgotten that she still held an armful of flowers. “They’re for Aivu. May I?”

The question was directed at the havoc dragon, who lounged nearby. Aivu nodded eagerly before the question was even finished, and Etain smiled as she settled the larger flower crown on her head. “There. I thought you might like one too. So you can match.”

“Where’s yours?” Both the dragon and the cleric asked at the same time before exchanging a grin, a silent conversation flowing between them that she couldn’t even begin to understand.

“I don’t need one,” she said quickly. It’s not like she had a swarm of fae butterflies to deal with, and even so she wasn’t one to indulge in pretty things. (Except the Commander, a knowing voice whispered in the back of her head.) “And I didn’t want to pick too many anyway.”

Vikkari nodded, seemingly in agreement, but she could see the gears whirring behind his eyes. Etain knew she hadn’t heard the last of this.

Strangely, she found herself looking forward to finding out what happened next.

[survivalxofxthexfittest]

@rioreeve

[anipgarden]

Catch me out here making posts on how to collect milkweed seeds because I'm hoping at least SOMEONE out there has good luck

*collapses to the ground* my fuckin swamp milkweeds got Heat Waved and barely even flowered, let alone got pollinated.... I'll have to see if my root stock ones or Swampy even come back next year, but this year definitely isn't the Year of the Ani Swamp Milkweed Success

[solarpunkani]

You’ve heard of ‘Ani cooking with the pomegranate crochet bag idea’ now get ready for

Crochet lilypads

Crochet lilypad pillow

Crochet lilypad drink coaster

Crochet lilypad shaped blanket

You may be noticing a pattern

[myriadxofxmuses]

@7ndcvils

[catamount-collections]

Waterlogged Hearts

[TW: None applicable]

Their coupling had been brief but intense, passionate and strange and mystical. His few dalliances with other women could not compare, to the point that he could hardly fathom ever laying with another.

But as his men help to haul him back onto the ship's deck, he's forced to wonder. Did he make the right choice? The siren had seemed so earnest and sweet, for a creature of legend, much less one whose kind most often feasts on the flesh of men. He's certain no one would believe him if he told them what happened, and he finds that settles...oddly upon him.

---

His father hadn't believed him any more than his men had, and neither did his brothers. But he supposes that doesn't truly matter, not unless the siren bears a son. And even, that assumes she would keep her word.

He puts it from his mind, focusing on his duties as a prince - second son or not, he's busy enough to keep him well occupied.

---

Months pass, and then a year. He sees neither hide nor hair nor scale of the siren.

Sometimes, though, when he walks the shore, he swears he hears a few lilting notes of a familiar song from the deep.

---

It's on one of those walks which have become habit now that he sees her. He goes stock still, staring into eyes he has not seen in nearly fifteen months. He hears his elder brother, who has accompanied him on his walk today, say something of little import - his name, maybe, or a query, but he pays it no heed.

His boots come off before he really thinks about it, his socks following before he rolls up the legs of his trousers. His brother definitely calls his name this time as he wades into the water, going as deep as his waist before he's face to face with the siren.

She's as beautiful as she was that night, but it's not her ink black hair or gleaming amber eyes that catch his eye. No, it's the six month old babe wrapped in some sort of woven kelp blanket and cradled in her arms that captures his attention so utterly.

And as she offers the child to him, he notices the sling made of the same kelp, surely swaddling another child. But that one she keeps carefully beneath the waves.

"Have you named him?" He asks, his mouth dry and his mind feeling as if it's full of cotton as he accepts the child from her arms.

"No. I thought you would wish to," She says, her gaze not on his face but on the babe now in his arms. She had not told him what her kind usually do with sons, but given the bittersweet expression on her face...his grip tightens on the child.

"...and the girl?" Her gaze flicks to his face when he asks, but he does not falter. He cannot.

"I have named her Amaranth." The siren dips further into the water to gather the girl from the sling, careful to keep her beneath the surface but allow him this glimpse. "She cannot breathe air yet."

The explantion makes something within him relax and tense in the same moment, but he simply nods.

"I want to know her," He says, tongue heavy with things unsaid. "Return here. Yearly. ...please."

The siren regards him quietly for a moment, then lets her gaze drop to the babe in his hold.

"Tell me what you will name him and bring him to the visits." Her condition is an esay one - he wouldn't want to keep her from her son.

"Caius. He'll be named Caius. We'll see you here next year." He watches as she nods, casting him and his son one last glance before she disappears below the waves. He lingers for another few heartbeats, staring out at the glittering waves, before adjusting his hold on his son and turning back to the beach where his gobsmacked brother awaits. A small, fleeting smirk pulls at his lips.

Perhaps his father will believe him now.

[dangeress]

tag drop one: ooc.

. ･ﾟ  out of danger    . . .  ooc . 

. ･ﾟ  would you do it for a scooby snack?    . . .  wishlist . 

. ･ﾟ  sting like a bee    . . .  answered . 

. ･ﾟ  float like a butterfly    . . .  threads .

. ･ﾟ  sealed with a kiss    . . .  letters .

. ･ﾟ  someone’s popular    . . .  texts .

. ･ﾟ  tied up at the moment    . . .  queue .

. ･ﾟ  daphne blake enthusiast    . . .  mun .

. ･ﾟ  hot ! mega hot ! queen hotness !    . . .  promo .

. ･ﾟ  she needs no saving    . . .  saved .

. ･ﾟ  tied up at the moment    . . .  positivity .

. ･ﾟ  a clue for you    . . .  psa .

. ･ﾟ  sit still and look pretty    . . .  sp .

. ･ﾟ  not in danger ; I’m the danger    . . .  prompts .

. ･ﾟ  fresh avacado ! where are you !    . . .  shitposting .

. ･ﾟ  from between the pages    . . .  art .

[thevalicemultiverse]

Fallout Of Darkness meets Secundus

Secundus Victor: [staring at his counterpart] ...the Army??

Fallout of Darkness Victor: [grimacing] I -- I didn't want to join up. The draft came, and Father decided that he wasn't going to get me out of it -- wanted to make a man out of me or -- something like that. [sighs] All that happened is that I ended up hating the American government.

Secundus Alice: It is rather odd hearing what's become of your accent...also, we're focusing on that rather than he's from how many years in the future?

Secundus Victor: Doc and Marty have a time machine, so that's a little easier to accept...also, you haven't asked your other self about being a vampire.

FoD Alice: I think we're all trying to focus on one weird thing at a time here. Like you apparently being some sort of mad genius who can make his own butterflies.

Secundus Victor: Heh, yes, good point...what sort of butterflies do you have in your world?

FoD Victor: I -- haven't actually seen any yet. And knowing what's become of the rest of the insect population, they'd probably be giant monsters trying to attack me on sight.

Secundus Victor: ...So, um, I should probably warn you now that I have a riding butterfly, and he does sometimes jump on people...