#silk moth kin

[straydogkins]

*ੈ✩ | Stimboard for a domestic silk moth

⋆ ˚ ⋆ ｡ ⋆ | ⋆ ｡ ୨୧ ｡ ⋆ | ⋆ ｡ ⋆ ˚ ⋆

[moonpool-system]

antikin strawman: "people always kin the 'cool' animals and not the common ones that obviously proves spiritual kin arent real"

me, the common domestic silk moth:

[astralnymphh]

born of flora and fauna | teaser I. ellie williams

knight!ellie x princess!reader

an; thought I would bestow a little excerpt from my prologue for this fic, cause the preluding alone needs its own teaser. plus, a little moodboard for it! this would count for the prologue only, as it's set in the wintertime and then progresses into spring. just a note this series is a bit more fantasy leaning than pinpoint history accurate (mainly in clothing department) but I'll still be including some realism into it. expect some.. complicated n poetic writing.

༻⋆the excerpt;

a vividness to her movements, flowing like a river. for it is water that soothes the most cosmic fires, carves veins into the earth's soil, descends from the heavens above and proves iron soluble. a knight so pinpoint and poised like a painter, yet so daring and baneful like a warrior of evenfall. an artisan of her craft, ellie was. born to thrive in matters regarding protection of her kingdom and its nobility.

you were a daughter of the illustrious king and queen, sister of your highly revered and cherished kin, prudence. subsequent to her fabled rise, was your fall. down-spiraling in neglect and a corroding shame that you couldn't fulfill the duties of a courteous princess. wickedness wasn't necessarily your play of folly. rebuking the role of royalty isn't your entire bastion of vengeance. you purely long for a world of your own color. your self-brewn arcadia of art. in a concise phrase, desire for sovereignty.

' why don't you resemble your sister more? '

upon this midwinter day, steel clashes and clanks with the marching of castle guards en route to their designated patrol sites just beyond the barrier of the throne room. braziers birthing a cordial flame glowing with a saffron ember, balls of warmth to resign a frigid numbing along the stone pillars surrounding the epicenter. the rabble of townsfolk forked into two large columns in the palatial hall afore the platform of the royal family, gossiping amongst themselves at the event taking place.

you are aligned in royal seating adjacent to your mother and fathers throne, crossed legs pleating your tunics' billowing skirt, seemingly stoic poise contrasting your usual gestures of criticism and resentment. a flurry of knights in waiting present themselves individually before the nobility, emanations of each one's virtues and brawns scrutinized in one sweeping glance of the majesty himself, to which the mass of them were not up to par.

on comes a figure, shrouded by a leather fitting of attire compared to the other bodies of steel and chain before them, a smooth cloak of basil green silk embroidered with their respective house symbol in yellow; a moth, and a face hidden by the iron nature of a helmet. as every knight has shown oneself to the king, so do they, forcepping the helm with a gauntleted grip to reveal a face blemished by the trudging of time and battle, freckles mimicking the color of almonds, lips like a coral rose bud and hair painted of the most earthly russet you've ever bore sights to. except, there was one asset that sucked you right into her indirect gaze, circlets of green, like a willow tree's canopy of shrubbery, green, like the vernal springscape of the earlier year, an ethereal green, a hue no soul has ever seen before.

༻⋆the moodboard;

hope yall are excited as I am!!! 💗 this is the first draft of a portion of my prologue so you may see some additions or changes.

[skelekins]

<< >>

Have some copy pasta Gen Swapfell-Facet Lore from my notes app

Disclaimer: messy

Muffet - Snowdin tea and bakery owner. Close relationship with Skeles. Puts cayenne pepper in many versions foods - spicy sweets. Has a few (like 3) setup for spider checkers - a checkers game with an otcoganol board. Waffle-coffee house. Speciality is spider Waffles, Soft Boiled spider Eggs, and Spider coffee

Muffet is a very hairy spider/rancho with scales/hairs all over body like the fluff of a moth. Helps with insulation. Smaller spider monsters are primarily covered in fluff for extra insulation with only tips of legs visible. Spiders wear little uniforms - usually hats/ribbons/tassels

Diner is covered in trap magic - one of many reasons no one causes a lot of trouble - snowdin in general assumed to be covered

Unlike skelebros Muffet can completely hide her trap magic unless someone is looking for it. Or at the very least her anchors are extremely small/needs less.

Smaller spiders may also use trap magic -> mainly just related to their physical silk.

Silk is heavily used in wardrobe and general materials.

Muffet must be seated the majority of the time the diner is open due to outgrowing the building. She doesn’t need to move much to reach every corner of the diner.

Double doors allow Muffet to leave through front if needed but she prefers to use the basement exit that leads to an enlarged basement - big enough for her to move properly, with a separate door out the back of the diner.

Muffet does not often actually leave and the back door is usually locked tight and hidden behind trash and webs. Since she has space to move in her home below she doesn’t see a lot of reason to leave.

Enjoys cooking and making sweet confections with her kin. Finds Sans and Papyrus cute - seen Papyrus grow up. A little older than Sans.

Spider eggs served to help keep populations acceptable. Boiled in a dust bath -> turning the interior monster into a weird edible savory jelly-like creature that is excited to be eaten. They feel no pain and usually find weird entertainment from being eaten in pieces. Not offended if eaten head first.

Diner spiders may actually be at LV 2 -> spiders have their own leveling customs. Basement spiders LV 1 - part of why Muffet and Diner Spiders are partial to Paps and Sans

“Muffet’s”? Like Grillby’s?

Grillbys - bar and grill

muffets - cafe and diner

While being a diner doesn’t actually care how long anyone is there. Closes late opens early -> most of Muffets time is dedicated to business with closing hours uses for rest, self care, and baking for the next day.

Probably has early days and maybe takes a “Websday” off once a month or so. !!she would be big enough and strong enough to easily go to Hotland or the capital if she wanted fancier supplies. !! <- gives part of reason for being so dedicated to the diner. Maybe gets special stuff for her kin/herself. Also cares about residents of Snowdin in her own way.

Like the idea of some of the bigger spiders acting rough and having little spiked bats to emphasize her kind of hard-punk/street gang aesthetic

15' 3"

Alphys - captain of the guard, watches over Waterfall but mostly has attention elsewhere ruling by name alone. Has Stone generally look after it. Originally from Hotland, met Undyne while stationed in Waterfall. Ascends (playing with words dunno if like that) in genocide route. Maybe something Al or Alph <- not a lot of options even with Alf.

Absolute Alphys? Alphys Ascendant

Her gameplay is similiar to Undynes except instead of blocking the player has to shoot her attacks like a game of asteroids.

Undyne - Royal scientist spicy fish yandere-like/light. Drinks beer enjoys super violent manga. Mew Mew -> Bork Bork

Jewel has a rough relationship with Undyne. Initially they were friends but after Undyne met Alphys she started to gain more level. It once got away from her and Jewel had to shortcut away from her as she was undeterred by Sans protection due to her own relationship with Alphys. She moved to Hotland not long after; secretly regretting her actions and not trusting herself in Waterfall any longer.

Napstablook -> Retraton - RTT // Retraton Para -> translates into shared HP forcing use of consumables along with cursor that copy’s players movements // maybe Retrabot to play off being an automaton vs mettaton being robot // Retrabot Para

Retraton held in place/ can’t move legs. Instead commands show through others monsters/puppets/effects. Usually broadcasts tragedies. (stone in turn loves tragedies lmao)

Has Rounded mascot form - form that is held in place. Para is transformation - still held but with extending arms.

Retraton Para - has extra arms.

"Oh yes~" -> "Oh no :("

Previously Napstablook -> taken to Undyne when Alphys found her missing her home; neighbor of Undyne. Forced into robot when he kept trying to return home.

Songs are very sad and yearning. TV shows are A Lot but also uses a lot of effects because it’s not like there’s infinite monsters.

May not actively star is show frequently but instead use puppets || marionette puppets his cast and narrates -> sometimes puppets are real monsters Retraton has some sort of relationship with surrounding monsters hinting at his Para form.

Para - kills Undyne before protag can activating Para form. Para uses Undynes soul. Might kill surrounding monsters / connected monsters as well.

Retraton - no use of legs - part of why puppets. Maybe needs to remain charged or frequently and feels more comfortable plugged in.

Arms > legs.

Box Form -> literally just a box with arms - no wheel. Has to drag himself or walk with his arms. Maybe has a hover butt? Or a skateboard. Or has lots of little legs. Roomba.

Mettaton(MTT)- Hapstablook

Instead of lie on the floor feeling like garbage they sit on the roof and consider love.

Gaster and Riverperson -

Stay in their respective posts however Gaster speaks in song and the Riverperson speaks in hands

Riverperson - gondola (gondoga) dog theme, speaks in hands, gondola above river because river water is too dangerous

Grillby - fire sale; father of fireflies literally flames with wings. Has a pet Fryfly - long fry-like fly. Instead of forcing player onto strings covers the field with hazards and fire. Have to switch and jump over between flames.

Pacified by firesauce (increases damage, possible burn damage, take one damage for spice) or Frenchfire (a firefly with an exploding baguette - covering the board around you in fire for one turn and burning any incoming attacks) or the purchase of either from his Hotland firesale.

Prices may be inverted to some extent -> Hotland Prices are cheaper but u need both items to pacify him. Ruins are achievable but ridiculously expensive. Only need one to immediately pacify him. Differentiated by name is Hotland Firesauce vs Old/Ruin Firesauce

All Dog references -> Cats (and vice versa)

Dog Squad -> Cat Squad

Annoying Dog -> Adorable Cat

[fairy-verse]

Haven't been in Tumblr for awhile until a certain event came back and now I am also back to find a new AU.

I adore how they look truly wonderful (especially the Firstborns of Autumn and Winter - must admit it felt relaxing looking [at their refs]) and Cross.

That aside, I saw that ask allowing us to make OCs for this AU. Just wondering what are the rules if ever so? And a brief general info for the fairies in each season (is there a general personality per season? most common behaviors/hobbies/trades?)

A general rule would be that season fairies must usually be Sans types, though a little cheat to get through this is if they’re hybrids of another fairy type. xGaster, Cross’ father, for example, is a hybrid between a winter fairy and a monster fairy, so he looks quite different compared to season fairies in general.

Winter fairies are oftentimes (not always) a little softer than other season fairies, as they like to have a little pudge to keep warm when the winters are especially cold. Their wings are akin to that of moths, soft and fluffy. They can be stern and cold just like the season they’re born into, but most will agree that they’re all fiercely protective of not only their own kin but also of the other season fairies. They have an inborn desire to assist and aid those in distress, especially when it’s cold outside. They are the best when it comes to warriors and knights/guards, plus they’re the ones every magical creature seeks out when it comes to armour, weapons, and jewellery. None are better at these crafts than the winter fairies. They have a few chance meetings with the Big Folk and those meetings often end in bloodshed: by Error’s command.

Summer fairies are often seen as the fairest and gentlest of all the season fairies, oftentimes speaking softly and bearing joyful smiles upon their faces. They rarely leave Dream’s valley of summer, and their wings are that of beautiful butterflies, and their voices are as lovely as the flowers they surround themselves with. None can sing as sweetly as a summer fairy. They are the ones who will usually sleep throughout winter and early spring, and when they awaken, they will bask in the sunlight and heat that Dream calls into his valley and out over the island itself. They need to absorb as much heat as possible to even stand a chance of not freezing to death in their sleep once the snow starts to fall. It is they who will harvest the most food of all the season fairies, and they are the ones you will seek out when you want silks, lace, and linen. They have little to no contact with the Big Folk.

Spring fairies are the wildest and fastest ones of all the season fairies, and their wings resemble that of dragonflies, only oftentimes more intricate and unique. Their very lives are built upon having regular contact with the Big Folk, though said Folk are not always aware of them; until they’ve found themselves being bitten, that is. They will mostly stay in their various tree nests during the long winter. Their only food source in early spring is the blood of the Big Folk, and so they all have sharp canines that make them resemble tiny little vampires; gremlins, the lot of them. They do enjoy creating little trinkets of their own, though they prefer to steal things from villagers so that they can trade with other fairies. Other than that, the spring fairies mostly live to play and tease each other in the Great Forest which is Ink’s domain. They possess an inner talent for being unnerving and acting strangely, even to other fairies, but the only true harm they bring is to the Big Folk, who all find them terrifying. They are all rather mischievous little things.

Autumn fairies are the slowest fliers amongst the season fairies, for they value the elegance that comes with dancing with the winds and the light of the moon. They are night dwellers and prefer to sleep lightly during the day, and due to how most of them reside within Nightmare’s extensive underground nest (it goes beneath nearly all of Nightmare’s domain), they do not struggle with keeping warm during winter. They are the ones to create fabrics of velvet, wool, cotton, and leather, plus they will create the most beautiful tapestries; many have been hung up along the corridors and halls of Nightmare’s underground nest, making it as lovely as it is cosy. They all have a love for taking life slow and steady, and they are rarely in a rush. Occasionally they might have skirmishes with the Big Folk, but due to the heavy illusion spells cast upon the borders near the Big Folk, the few moments of contact rarely result in any great harm to the fairies. Their wings are the most unique, for they rarely resemble anything else than… well, autumn fairies. It is because of their oddly shaped wings that they’re the slowest fliers, but that matters little to them.

To specify briefly about the usual nests that they make:

Winter fairies oftentimes have their nests in either an alcove carved into the walls of Error’s Mountain halls, or they will be set in lanterns that hang from chains so long they disappear into the dark of the cavernous ceiling up above them. The mountain halls are all lit up with golden lights that make the gems of the walls shimmer beautifully. They cover their nests in whatever they can get their hands on, though many prefer wool and soft linen.

Summer fairies will usually make their nests atop mossy shelves at the mountainsides in Dream’s Valley, though many have also created hanging nests of intertwined twigs and branches along the trees. All these nests are heavily insulated to prevent the cold winter winds from penetrating them, and they line the insides with silks and linen to make them comfortable and soft.

Autumn fairies have their own little personal nests within Nightmare’s underground nest, and these are usually just small rooms lined with roots and hard dirt walls; though oftentimes the fairies will cover the walls with tapestries and velvet sheets to make them more comfortable. There are luminescent bugs that live along their walls and ceilings, so there is always a cosy light that surrounds them, though they often enjoy lighting golden crystals for some extra brightness.

Spring fairies have no set type of nest they prefer. Some will create hanging nests, others will find a hole in a tree and create a nest out of that, and others again will make little three houses for themselves; an attempt to copy the Big Folk’s houses. They will use silks, linen, wool, and sometimes velvet to make their nests comfortable to stay in. Many of the nests that are within the Great Forest have been made by Ink himself, though he’s forgotten many of them, and so they go to spring fairies that are searching for a new home they can raise a faerling in.

[circadeacademia]

Prompt: Moth (Escapril Day 20)

Excerpts from a luna moth’s diary…

[a broken human translation for better understanding]

click…| click…| click…| click…| click…| click…

midnight air / is it your {lingering} incense ?

my {stretched} silk dripping darkness ___

i believe / o moon / look at i

{dressed} as your faintest bloom

incoherent, is i / excuse / for i

not the {kind} to have a voice / of my own

atremble, my shimmering gown, in {silver} trails

i, the phantom / flaunting moon's eerie glow

my {birthright}___

i’m way past, the covert haunts

this {ghost} town has its own secrets

bizarre beauty / they say / wish i

had the {guts} to / dispute that

birthed in darkness, was i / hear the flame cry,

“fly / to me / my {alien} queen ___

your curved hind, i beg, bring your ecstasy sways”

swoon, is i / think, i not / o moon

hear me plea, as {cohesive} as i be

let me / my kin / let our eulogy be this ___

once bound/ twice / doomed by {desire}

fire, devour, watch who {burns} the brightest^

~ flutter ~ flutter ~ flutter ~ flutter ~ flutter ~

{ } : nearly lost in translation

— circadeacademia

[ervona]

Day 7: Profane / Sword for @tes-summer-fest

Out on the Inner Sea, where Ebonheart had crossed to Vvardenfell with one one bold leap set in stone, the port was rocked to sleep by languid waves. Southwards lay the vast expanse of Thirr, eastwards the City of Swords over which loomed a frozen moon, and thence a ferry sailed in worn and weathered. One of the passengers, a young lady, bowed to the boatman as she disembarked. 

Rather undistinguished in her clean but simple clothes, she was glad for it and took a deep breath of sea air that mixed with the cooking from Six Fishes, watching as stevedores hauled barrels and crates onto a merchant ship. For a few more paces across the cobblestone, she needn’t have been a duke’s daughter up until the bridge to the castle, so she took a slight turn at Forth Hawkmoth.

In the Skyrim Mission hall, she asked of a friendly ambassador all the latest rumors brought in on western winds, while in the neighboring Argonian Mission she exchanged a courteous greeting and hidden scrap of paper with the consul. The significance of each meeting was not as it must have seemed, and she continued to Castle Ebonheart whither the Imperial knight at the bridge led her in without issue.

The guards inside were all aglint in silver, but the mer that strode up to her was in beetle-green silk, embellished with countless shimmering wings. Uncle appeared to her more boyish than ever, though he’d never been older, as his face and hands showed no signs of age that more closely followed the working mer. She leapt into a hug, for the illusion of their friendship was always worth upholding.

“You look like a pilgrim,” he said with a smile; she trimmed the condescension off of it like the hands of Fishmongers’ Hall fileted fish and moved on, carving a smile on her own face. “I see them crossing the lakes daily now, all sorts of pleasant people, long traveled–”

“Good evening to you too. But where’s Father?” Often enough he would have been holding court at this hour, now his seat was an empty ornament flanked by his personal guard.

“Up in his dining hall. Shall we go, then?” So she took him by the hand and followed up the spiraling staircase, soon liberated from his idle chatter by the fact that the chamber with her drawers stood afore Father’s. She excused herself to go change her clothes before sitting at the dinner table, and he proceeded rather than wait for her, which was suitable just fine.

It was apt to call it a guest room, but it had more or less been reserved for her, and all the things she hadn’t taken with her were where she’d left them. She wasted no time dressing, though she did not miss the more restrictive, overly ornate clothing she’d worn at court. Her neighbors in Saint Delyn on the other hand would work themselves to the bone for a brocade blouse like hers. 

Once when in Tear visiting Mother’s kin, she’d taken a liking to the airy anther fabrics they favored in the humid marshlands. Grey was their color, but the city had soon been wreathed in black after a high councilor’s undisclosed passing, strife had been sown and blood ran cold. These days the young, the dissidents, and all those who’d lost their spirits and loved ones in the war had many high seats to fill. 

Her time there had taught her not the evils of slavery, for she’d already looked upon them in Empire-chartered lands, but certainly more ways to strive against it. Even with her Serano cousins had she found kindred spirits, and through them much needed contacts, Black Marsh and beyond. The Dren side of the family was truly no better or worse, distinguished Hlaalu nobles as they were, but she would put that thought aside for dinner. 

Father awaited her in his golden moth robes, and she sank into a silent embrace with only the murmur of endearments into her hair and the clatter of cutlery. There was no need to say too much. He already had the perfect image of her in his mind, carefully cultivated, unable to grow beyond it even when they were alone, for too much shared grief weighed on them. The table was set for three, each with ample space of their own and the appetizer already served. 

She nibbled on a wickwheat biscuit as Uncle seemed to continue what he’d been talking about, his newly established netch ranch, the fine leather it brought, and she bit her tongue in frustration. Him and his blood-stained netch leather and the yoke that pulled lives and souls asunder. The three of them were in different worlds by now, though still only a ferry away from each other in the isles where the sacred and worldly embraced with hidden blades. 

Then he turned to her, wondering aloud why she’d chosen to live in a pauper’s residence. Without breaking her composure, she took a sip of her mineral water. She’d explained it enough to Father, and had lived well for a better part of the year, so where had he been?

“I’d seen it and thought to myself of what wisdom I could take from living in modesty. Our kin in Tearmarsh live simple but the light of the Three hardly touches them, unlike us,” she recited something akin to what she had before and before. Uncle whose kena had been a blademaster of Saint Felms giggled at that, and Father cut him a glance across the table.

“What? We’re not in Vivec, but in Ebonheart,” he stressed that last word with a Cyrod lilt, “I’d hazard to say the Three are asleep at the helm when the people are wanting for them.”

“The Three do not judge mere ill-spoken words, but the people do. Let us eat,” was all that Father had to say before calling the next course, ornada marinated in plum and comberry.

She continued to sup in silence, but imagined if they’d cleared the table and dueled in a knightly manner. A challenge of honor, for the gods at that, had been more common in warlike times but the custom was very much alive. Say they fought to the death, Uncle if he by chance won would get his final rival out of the way and send her to wed the King’s heir Ser Talen Vandas. Father had planned much the same, though not urgently, and he would hesitate to kill his brother in the first place but if he did, she would carry the Dren name.

What did she want, then? For the dinner to carry on in peace, not to lose her composure, and not have to marry the King's dear nephew. But perhaps a queen of Morrowind would carry power, more so than a duke, only the profane ruler of all Vvardenfell. There was a cloak of decorum about Father that fit a very refined doll, having his armor shined as if every day was a holy-day, little else for him to do but dictate legally worded letters for contractless builders on Azura’s Coast and hang his head. She could never become so complacent.

Father ate rather delicately to not stain his bead-woven beard and mustache, and his younger brother followed the lead, though prior stabbing his cooked ornada without grace. The knife he sliced with, dueling the carapace, was as her cutlery gilt and engraved to go along with the ebony plating. Overhead the chandelier of green glass hung as a sword pointed at them, a thousand shimmering blades. Cruel and acute was the castle, had been from its very first stone.

After dessert, she retreated to her chambers still chewing on the apple sweetcake. Father and Uncle having bid her good night continued talking, for which she was too tired, tired of her studies at the Temple and the fragile cover they made, of parlaying with smugglers or worse playing as abolitionists, of crossing betwixt and across sharp edges, and most of all knowing that she was ill-fit for their beautiful world even if she’d ever wanted to return.

She fell upon her bed face-first and rose back up, hair tousled from the impact giving her the feeling of peeking from a thicket. Through her eastward window she could see the lanterns of the city below, Ebonheart’s diadem. Further still across the water was the palace dome awash in cold fire, circled by celestial spheres that seemed like marbles from this distance. In there did Vivec dwell, as far from the cries of the helpless as one could be in the Ascadian Isles.

Once the gods had walked among them, before her time. Perhaps it rang true that they were asleep at the helm, or had spun the wheel and left it to turn uncontrollably as gods were wont to do. It fell to the people to take hold of, but only in hands that meant well could a better tomorrow be spun from the frayed yarn of the past. 

Her bed here was softer than in Saint Delyn, only the finest, most delicate fabrics for the Duke’s household, but it didn’t let her rest easy. In the morning, or the next, depending on how much Father wanted her to stay, she would disembark once more. She would watch the waves play, sway corkbulb boats like merlings on the seaside who had been told the world was their oyster. 

There was much work to be done, but it could wait the morning, or the next, as it had waited for far too long. And she cast a wish, just a small one, to each of the three moons that adorned the sky and sea.

[alter-soup]

could you make one with the name charon, who's a layer admin and filterer? would love a spider theme if possible and a picrew. ty!! 🕸️

Name(s) - Charon

Pronouns- She/her, it/its

Suggested Neopronouns- 🕷/🕷s, 🕸/🕸s, silk/silks, weave/weaves, eight/eights, mourn/mourns, gra/grace

Gender(s)- Demigirl

Suggested Xenogenders- Lacedollic, Gothiclolitaic, Spiderthing

Orientation- Panromantic + Aegosexual

Age- 24-32 or ageless

Species- Human-like but unknown

Source- N/A

Role(s)- Layer Admin, Filterer

Kins- Zebra spider, Wasp spider & Wheel spider

Personality traits/details- Well-mannered, kind, elegant, classy

Likes- Gothic/Victorian fashion, bows, jewelry, reading, poetry, stars, mythology, old music, horror/romance novels, moths/butterflies, rainy days and nights, cemeteries, gardens

Dislikes- being spoken over, fire, eyestrain

Sign Off- 🖤🎼

Extra details- She's kind but can be stern if needed - it will often incorporate spider web designs in laces of her clothing - she used a lot of metaphors - it has six freckles on its face to represent six other eyes - she calls the tea it makes “delightful venom.” Sometimes it prevents others from drinking anything she makes but it just calls the drinks that because she likes it

Faceclaim-

Picrew

[dawnbreak-daily]

Chapter 39. The anniversary celebration begins in earnest.

A delightfully fluffy chapter that was a treat to write, even if it took a while to figure out the gifts first. I wanted something with several layers of meaning, speaking both about the personality of the gifter and the recipient... Hope it ended up working as intended.

Hollow gets a cloak but also an opportunity to choose and start anew. All of their previous garments were made for the Pure Vessel, with them having no say in the matter. Now, though, Noon wants them to help pick a design. Plus, of course, it's moth silk - the symbol of Noon's kin.

And Noon gets wing dye, together with the proof that he is seen and wanted in Hollow's life. They remembered his favourite colour but also worked out a way to have one symbolising themselves. (It is an interesting question for another time how Hollow with no money and barely any experience leaving the temple managed to achieve it... But they did, so kudos to them.)

So yeah, gifts are exchanged and enjoyed, and it's time to move to the next part of the festivities.

P.S. Also, Holly is naked for like half a minute. Can't miss it.

[ambiguouspuzuma]

moth

here they go round the mulberry bush, as yellow follows white; the silkworms taken at fourth blush just as their skin grows tight.

they're harvested at that young age still in their larval guise, and raised until they reach the stage to metamorphosise.

as pupae, at their most exposed, they're harvested again; and this time forcibly unclothed for silk which sees them slain.

thus our own clothing is derived, over another's slaughter, bred only to be boiled alive in vats of boiling water.

and when their cousins come to stay they find our wardrobes first, eating our clothes as if to take revenge through tattered shirts.

but we refuse to take the blame for all their kin who died, and try to kill them just the same with our insecticide.

we put down mothballs, cedarwood, around the moths we hung, to keep those who reached adulthood from the skins of their young.

but these mourners are dutiful, not easily denied, and see it would be beautiful to die there by their side.

but elsewhere in our poisoned rooms we place a glowing light, and far more tempting than those tombs is martyrdom through flight.

thus, come to pay their own respects for overheated dead, the visitors likewise elect for cremation instead.

[evita-shelby]

Incantatrice

Ch.16

Cw: death, guilt, feminicide, murder, mentions of sex(duh its an eva fic), whatever murder of a pregnant person is called

Taglist: @wandawiccan60 @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife

“I want you to be the last.” Luca had said when they met earlier yesterday, “I want you to be alive after your entire family is dead 'cause my mother says that is what will hurt you the most.”

A few days after John’s funeral, Elizabeth Stark is found dead in a canal.

Her autopsy revealed she was pregnant, barely two months along.

He hadn’t killed her, but he let Esme and Polly take their revenge.

Always loving the wrong women, Polly had said drinking to hide her shaking hands as she washed the blood from them.

When the police call her next of kin, Tommy pretends he is as shocked as they are to know his family is all she had.

He is alone at the cemetery when he sees a woman in black come with marigolds.

Perhaps a friend, he thinks, Lizzie was alone in the world.

Alone save for them and the baby she never even knew about.

“I warned her this would happen.” The woman said, an American with a voice like cool silk.

The hairs on the back of his neck rise in intrigue, fear and anger.

“Mrs. Changretta, I presume.” He said taking out a cigarette case Lizzie had picked out for him last Christmas.

He killed her like he killed Grace and Greta and Zelda.

The sapphire was not the curse, the curse was him.

“There was no curse, your women were not interesting enough to warrant one.” The woman answered reading his mind. “Just shit luck, hence why they fell in love with you.”

Like a real witch, like his mother once used to do before the tablets and the booze and the opium turned her into something unrecognizable.

She was good looking too, in that slightly unnerving beauty that beckoned you like a moth to a flame.

No wonder Luca had married her, with a woman like that, he was God himself.

“And rich to boot. Had I not gone to the opera that evening, I would have ended up here.” She adds, being pleasant company despite being the wife of the man here to kill them all. “Maybe even have had the misfortune of falling in love with you down the line.”

“What do you want?” he asks not wanting to think what game the witch is playing at.

“Just want this to be over, same as you.” She answered as if they didn’t have vastly different meanings. “Should have let her go instead of damning them all to die, Shelby.”

“They killed my wife.” He says, as if that makes it better.

“Your wife’s killer wasn’t one of ours, he hadn’t been lying, you know. Just like Lizzie wasn’t lying either.” The woman smirked. “You knew that, not then, but later when it was already done and no turning back.

First rule of this world is not to be taken in by appearances, and every damn time you fall for the veneer.

First Grace, then Solomons and Sabini, the shooter, the Russians and now Lizzie.”

“If you wanted her dead, you could’ve done it yourself.” He exhaled wishing nothing more than to take the revolver to his head, feel the cold steel on his temple and feel the thrill of pulling the fucking trigger.

But then he always remembers Charlie and Lizzie and he puts it down. Goes to them and remembers there are people he lives for.

This time there won’t be anyone to keep him from ending his miserable life.

The Changrettas wanted him to die even if he won.

“It's good strategy you have, even if you lose, you win.” He points out, as a man who likes competence, at least it’s a comfort to know his enemies are not winning by blind luck, but by skill.

Campbell only won because he didn’t know Tommy would have fallen for such a lousy spy in the first place.

Had Tommy not been so vulnerable when Grace came dressed in lies, everything would have been so different.

So many dead or gone from his life because he loved the wrong woman.

“Never caught your name, Mrs. Changretta.” He brings up when the woman turned to leave.

“Eva. Eva Changretta.”

“Polly’s lying to you.” Eva said the moment she smelled her on his clothes when he returned from the nightclub he met Polly Gray at.

He had a drink and a dance with her, and Eva had put flowers on the grave of Tommy’s lover and victim.

“This isn’t my first vendetta, you know.” He reminds her, trying to kiss her as she took off his vest.

“I know, but it doesn’t hurt to remind you.” The witch said moving out of the way before he could do so.

“Are you jealous, maga?” he asks recognizing fully well the telltale signs of her jealousy.

Luca will remind her she is the only woman he wants in his bed.

Could remind her right on the desk, or the chair, the door, anywhere they want without the children killing the mood.

Can’t remember the last time they had the luxury to be loud and go as long as they want.

They’re getting a nanny after this.

“You would be the same if I had been the one dancing so closely with Tommy Shelby.” Eva answered, knowing he could not fault her with such a good argument.

“If he even touched you, he’d be a dead man.” Luca nuzzled her neck, kissing and biting her so they know she is his property.

Only fair he gets to mark her after she marked him this morning.

“If you fuck the aunt, I will fuck the nephew.” The witch warns as things take their natural progression.

“You’re gorgeous when you’re jealous, it’s a good color on you, Evucca.” He smirked.

“Met his wife this morning. She claims the shooter wasn’t one of theirs.” Tommy lights another cigarette and offers Polly one of his.

“Luca said Lizzie was a taste of what’s to come.” Polly supplied with a sigh.

Hands hadn’t stopped shaking since that night.

Esme called saying Lizzie and her baby had been haunting her. Esme hadn’t known about the baby.

We killed an innocent, Polly, they made us kill an innocent, Esme had said in a panic.

Lizzie had not been lying, just as Vincente Changretta hadn’t either.

Now they pay the fucking price.

And what a heavy prize it is.

If she must choose between her son or Tommy, Polly knows he won’t blame her for it.

[little-lucub]

My 'types :33

I finally made a kinlist :DD

I'm a suntherian and also ambitherian for a few 'types! I'm also otherfix/otherspin, so my hyperfixations cause most my kins. I'm mainly psychological, but believe in past lives/alternate universes!

Theriotypes

Wolf Ambitherian:

Esp. Eurasian Wolf, Northern Rocky Mountain Wolf, Northern Wolf, Arctic Wolf, Grey Wolf

Fox Ambitherian:

Esp. Arctic Fox, Silver Fox, Cross Fox, Grey Fox, Red Fox

Dogs:

Shiba (Black & Tan, Sesame), Golden Retriever, German Shepherd, Siberian Husky (Agouti, brown & black), Blue Roan Stabyhoun mix

Cats: (Still questioning)

Birman, Maine Coon

Snow Leopards

Sea Otters

Red Pandas

Domestic Ferrets

Otherkin 'types

Okamimata (Nekomata but Wolf (I made it up for a VTuber Concept I'm working on!))

Nekomata

Elf/Drow (TTRPG/Fantasy stuff)

Hylian (Zelda)

Inkling / Squid (Splatoon)

Lycanroc Midday & Dusk (Pokémon)

Rockruff (Pokémon)

Eevee (Pokémon)

Flareon (Pokémon)

Satyr (TTRPG)

Melusine (Genshin)

Suanni (Genshin specifically)

Plushkin

OCkin

Songkin:

Writing on the Wall - Will Stetson

Dragons:

Dragon, Wyvern, Wooly Owl (HTTYD), Monstrous Nightmare (HTTYD), Nightfury (HTTYD)

Cambitypes

Pigeon, Crow

Otherhearted Theriotypes

Shark (Great White), Snake (White Python), Silk Moth

Otherhearted 'kins

Seelie (Genshin), Octoling/Octopus (Splatoon), Kitsune, Zora (Zelda), Tanuki (Yokai), Mudkip (Pokémon), Cyndaquil (Pokémon), Koholasaurus (Genshin)

Fictionkins (I don't mind doubles!)

I am so sorry there's a lot of these

Genshin Impact: Alhaitham, Arataki Itto Chongyun, Cyno, Diona, Fischl, Freminet, Furina, Ga Ming, Ganyu, Gorou, Iansan, Kaeya, Keqing, Kirara, Layla, Lynette, Mika, Mualani, Razor, Sethos, Tartaglia/Childe, Thoma, Wolfy (Imaginarium Theathre), Wanderer, Wriothesley, Xinyan

Honkai: Star Rail: Arlan, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, Huohuo, Luka, Lynx, Qingque, Robin, Sampo Koski, Seele, Sparkle/Hanabi, Sushang, Veritas Ratio/Dr. Ratio, Welt Yang

Zenless Zone Zero: Anby Demara, Wise, Nekomiya Mana/Nekomata

Obey Me!: Belphegor, Leviathan, Mammon, MC, Satan, Solomon, Simeon

The Legend of Zelda: Link, Ravio, Sheik, Sidon, Shadow Link (FS)

Linked Universe: Four, Ravio, Twilight(?), Warriors, Legend (?)

MXTX: Lan Yuan/Lan Sizhui, Wei Ying/Wei Wuxian, Shang Qinghua, Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu, Luo Binghe (Bingmei only)

Splatoon: Acht/Dedf1sh, Agent 3/Captain 3, Neo Agent 3, Agent 4, Agent 8, Marie, Callie, Pearl, Marina, Shiver, Frye, DJ Octavio

VOCALOID: Kagemine Len, KAITO, v4flower

MCYT (Character/persona, not the person): Grian (Hermitcraft), c!Ranboo, c!TommyInnit, Ph1lz4/Philza (DSMP, OSMP, Hardcore)

Creepypasta: Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack(?), Homocidal Liu

Given: Haruki Nakayama, Ritsuka Uenoyama, Mafuyu Sato

Project Sekai: Tsukasa Tenma, Toya Aoyagi, Mizuki Akiyama, Nene Kusanagi

Paw Patrol: Chase, Rocky, Everest, Marshall

SK8: Kojiro Nanjo/JOE, Reki Kyan, Langa Hasegawa

FNAF: Michael Afton, Bonnie, Foxy, Glamrock Freddy (Glammike), Michael Smidt (Movie)

Other: Ajax (EOOS), AR (EOOS), Hiccup (HTTYD), Kris (DR), Ralsei (DR), Kusuo Saiki (Saiki K), Michiru Kagemori (BNA), Shirou Ogami (BNA) Punchy (ACNH), Shun Hashimoto (Umibé no Etranger), Yuri Plisetsky (Yuri!!! On Ice), Stanley (TSP), Virgil Sanders (SS), James (Pokémon), Penny (Pokémon, S&V), Cross Sans (Underverse/X-tale), Cross Chara (Underverse/X-tale), Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic), Shoya Ishida (A Silent Voice), Konata Izumi (Lucky☆Star), Yuri 'Cherry' Sakura (WBULSP), Sunny (OMORI), HERO (OMORI), Cameron 'Caz' McLeary (SWTD), Clémentine (Yaelokre)

Dividers from @/lavendergalactic

[riverripplespeaks]

wings of fire fan,, do you have a favorite species of dragon? i like the design of hivewings a normal amount (despite literally not finishing the first series i got spoiled LOL) but second favorite has to be seawings

id say the silkwings! pretty sure im a silkwing kin lmao so thats fun. i like the wings and antannae and silk and stuff. my favorite texture/fabric is silk so i may be a bit biased. i imagine they look more like caterpillars before their metamorphisis, and after that they end up looking like a certain kind of butterfly or moth, which would be where they get their name from.

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Fall Webworm Caterpillar - Hyphantria cunea

Here's a fine example of recently hatched Caterpillars aggregating together for survival and safety in numbers. Through their combined efforts, they've built several houses of webbing at ends of this tree's branches and at several chokepoints along the tree. Unlike Spindle Moth Caterpillars who tend to use leaf spinning strategies combined with silk in order to create shelters, the Fall Webworms manipulate the silk to adhere and form connections along tree branches. As a result, any leaves at the ends of the branches are eaten or left to be dried out. From there, these wrigglers spend their days eating their host tree's leaves and living together inside their silk shelters. These Caterpillars will aggregate together for their first few instars and feed together until they grow to large for their silky nests. At that point, you can expect to see them take on a larger, pale or yellow form with even longer hair-like bristles (do not touch) along their body. At that point, they will leave the safety of the silk and their kin and venture to new plants. It's probably for the best that larger Caterpillars seek out new food sources anyway. Not only would their size prove an issue for shared housing and availability of food, but the houses are already choked with frass (insect droppings) as a result of the mass feeding.

While they share a home, the silk not only offers these young insects protection from predators, but can also assist in thermoregulation during spells of cold weather. From my own observations, the silk works quite while at keep out even large insect predators such as Northern Paper Wasp workers and curious Carpenter Ants. While the intricate weaving of the silk prevented access to the soft-bodied insects within, it isn't very sticky which allowed Ants to climb and scurry along the surface of the netting. As long as their mandibles cannot grab anything on the interior, the Caterpillars can remain relatively safe. In this particular find, I've also noticed these individuals creating and using silk-lined channels between certain houses, which creates new routes from area to area (such as the connection seen in Picture 4). How very industrious! The week after I took these pictures, I took note of the frass buildup from earlier. It had gotten so tremendous that Flies were gathering and attempting to get access to the frass through the silk. However, it was impenetrable! It is very fortunate that despite their feeding and messy habits, if the tree is otherwise in good health, it should be able to recover (from minimal damage) once the Caterpillars leave the tree in their final instars or are preyed upon by parasitic Wasps or Tachinid Flies.

Pictures were taken on July 1, 2024 with a Google Pixel 4. Expect several supplementary posts to this one in the future. There's much to observe with regarding this Caterpillar treetop civilization.

[mouse-drawings]

When you are just a shepherd moth from faraway lands, but this strange light goddess is trying to make you join her cult

More moth headcanons and oc ramblings under the cut!

I think there are more moths out there besides those we see in Hallownest. Just like there are more bees, ants and other bugs, I'm sure.

All moths, regardless of where they came from, have innate dream abilities. However, if they aren't developed, they never become skills a moth can actively use.

Hallownest moths created dream weapons and had been attuned to Radiance. They were aware of those abilities and therefore were quite powerful when it came to dreams.

Roseline is a moth that was born far away from all of that and she is a shepherd who trades silk. A farmer. A working class. Even if she were made aware of those abilities she wouldn't care for them. So, her dream powers are very limited.

She can't tell when someone reads her mind with dreamnail or otherwise. She can't read anyone else's mind either and she can't enter the dreams of others.

However, she has one thing going for her: lucid dreams. She thinks it's the norm when all your dreams are lucid, so she never thought to ask. She can control everything in her own dream. In fact, if someone with the same or lesser dream power were to enter her dream, she would be able to make them leave.

Alas, Radiance is a goddess and has much greater dream power than anybody, even when she is locked away.

I imagine that during the time infection started spreading again, Zabava and Roseline happen to travel close to Hallownest. Radiance might have sensed someone of her kin, someone who hasn't rejected her, and tried to communicate to Roseline in dreams. Roseline doesn't care for this cult and is actually very annoyed about her dreams being interrupted. But she can't make Radiance leave her dreams and Radiance is too far away to do anything more.

Needless to say, when Radiance is finally defeated, Roseline celebrates and finally gets a good rest full of dreams.

[deucedeus]

The Young'un of the Bayou

There was an old woman who was a bayou guide. She wandered about the bayou at night and searched for those that had tripped and became lost in the trees and reeds. She carried a lantern and clean food and drink, so that the lost might regain their strength enough to get out of the bayou. One night, the woman decided to go further into the bayou as the parts she often searched became somewhat well known. The trees in this part of the bayou were knarled and crunchy, the water rose to the woman's elbows, the mud to her knees. But old as she was the woman continued further still, balancing her satchel with the food, drink, and lantern on her head. Eventually, the old woman came to a dry patch and decided to take a nap, for it was already the witching hour. No sooner had she fallen asleep that a small moth had paddled onto the dry patch. Tired from dragging its heavy and waterlogged wings around the bayou, the moth made a little nest on top of the satchel by the lantern where it was warm and dry. Soon it fell sound asleep. The old woman had noticed the moth after she'd awoken but thought it dead when it didn't move after lifting it from the satchel. The moth was fuzzy, with cute stripes of pink and yellow. The old woman thought to take it home and put it in her satchel and went on her way. The moth awoke and before it was clean food and drink, and the moth without a second thought ate and drank every last bit. The woman heard the moth rustling about and stopped on a large tree root and opened the satchel. What sat in the pocket was neither the food, drink, or moth, but a small little thing. Older than a babe, but not quite a child, it had large and pink sparkling eyes, sunny blonde hair and had round chubby cheeks that reminded her of bread rolls. "What are ye doin' there?" She asked it. But there was no response, as the young thing was too small to speak and just stared at the woman. She looked around but could not figure where it came from or when it got into her bag. "Well if ye got folk around, they would be smart to stay close. I will find yer kin tomorrow and should I not, I should raise ye myself." and the old woman carried the small thing home with her. The next night, she looked high and low with the young'un on her shoulders, shouting for its kin. But no one answered. The next night, they ventured out again, but still no one answered. Every night for the next month, the two set out, but no one answered their calls. Finally, the old woman said, "Then I suppose I'll raise ye, for I have gotten used to ye bein' around and have found myself to be quite fond of ye." And so the woman raised the young'un, and as it became old enough to speak and walk, the old woman taught the child to cook and clean and where to look in the bayou for those that have become wayward and need a light back to the town. Now, at the edge of the bayou is a house built by hand and wooly like silk, covered in carpets of moths. This is where the old woman and her kin, the new bayou guide lives. Handsomely dressed, with eyes like raspberries and hair like the afternoon sun, the new bayou guide could scour half the bayou in just a matter of hours, as though flying through the trees. Some wanderers found by the new guide swear on their lives they were rescued by a gentle giant with wings of a behemoth size and a great fluffy chest. But when questioned, the old woman laughs and gives a hearty pat to her kin saying,

"That's just this here young'un of the bayou!"