#tawny emperor

[onenicebugperday]

@rosemaryrain364 submitted: We found this beautiful pupae in the garden. My dad is digging a drainage gutter across the back and unearthed it. After a few pictures it was returned, hopefully no worse off for being disturbed.

I think it's a type of Sphinx moth, but can't be certain.

This other guy was crawling up the outside wall of a local coffee shop, no vegetation nearby. I hope it made it! Likely a Hackberry butterfly.

Both seen in or near Corpus Christi, Tx, USA

That caterpillar is absolutely precious. Definitely one of the emperors, but hackberry and tawny look the same to be so idk. But the pupa is definitely a sphinx. Maybe an obscure sphinx.

[windpurr]

My poor phone is crying for me to stop taking pictures but Nature's just so pretty!

[youbutterbelieveitsnotbutter]

Tawny Emperor

This picture was taken two years ago in October, I believe this particular butterfly is called a Tawny Emperor, and they seem to be enjoying the lemon cypress that they're resting on.

[fausfirous]

Just wanted to share this cool ass butterfly i found at work :)

[heyitsrink]

Big shoutout to The Goblin Emperor, which I finished at 5:10 on New Years Eve, for being one of the reading highlights of 2023. It's tied for my favorite read of the year alongside my beloved Fool's Errand.

[professionalunprofessional]

A Tawny Emperor!

[mandy-malady]

[hibiscera]

This is the butterfly I saw that prompted this post btw. (:

IDs a butterfly or moth and then immediately checks its range to see if it’s also located in New Jersey so I can know if Drury would see them too.

[matter-for-mass]

butterfly egg appreciation post

(insect egg photos under the cut, if insect eggs freak you out be warned but also these are extremely pretty (: )

mourning cloak (nymphalis antiopa)

leopard lacewing (cethosia cyane)

gaudy baron (euthalia lubentina)

euthalia bunzoi

australian painted lady (vanessa kershawi)

question mark (polygonia interrogationis) (yes those are its actual names and yes they stack their eggs)

map butterfly (araschnia levana) (even longer stacks)

jezebel nymph (mynes geoffroyi)

tawny emperor (asterocampa clyton)

common duffer (discophora sondaica)

[xphaiea]

Tawny emperor egg cluster

[snazzynacho]

— Emperor of Time

Chapter 2/?: Diana

Emperor Geta x female oc

Chapter 1 Read on ao3. Masterlist. Words: 2.8k

A/N: btw I am trying to keep fmc’s appearance as vague as possible so you can imagine her as whoever, even yourself. Words in bold mean they are in Latin.

Geta stirs from his sleep, draped in the softest blanket he has ever felt in his life and a soothing cold flannel on his forehead. What a comfort to wake up to after that awful dream...He reminds himself to thank his servants once he's fully awake. It is not protocol but after that fright, he does not care.

His eyes are still closed, basking in the nicety of the blanket, but his nose twitches at something. A sweet aroma.

He groans sleepily, turning over on his side slightly. That’s when he’s met with a wet tongue licking his nose. He snaps his eyes open, blinking away the blurry remnants of slumber. He is ready to scream at her and bellow all sorts of derogatory terms at her for…licking his nose!?

But then his eyes are met with huge round black ones, set above a cute button nose. The adorable sight finishes with floppy orange ears. It is a dog. Geta’s anger slowly diminishes, as the dog continues to stare at him, sniffing his scent. Geta resists the urge to pet it.

As Geta’s eyes wonder around the room, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of his stomach.

The unfamiliar furniture and interior design hits him. That was no dream…that was real life…

Geta proceeds to sit up, just as the woman is walking back over to him. He eyes her suspiciously. In her hands is a cup of sorts, similar to the shape of a goblet, only smaller with a handle on the side. It's filled with a warm light brown liquid. That must be the cause of the sweet smell. He watches the steam flutter away in the air.

She shoos the dog away gently, slightly agitated at it, and motions for Geta to take the cup…but he's sceptical. What if it is poisoned? He has no way of knowing until it is too late.

Sensing his distrust, she sighs and gulps a bit of the drink. At the sight of her foreign mouth on his cup, his nose scrunches up in disgust. She says something, out of annoyance, and shoves the cup in his hand. He tuts out of irritation. It’s hot and he feels the heat tingle his fingers as it burns his hand. He quickly moves his hand to hold the handle instead.

She sits in the chair across from the plump lounge seat he is on, eyeing him. The tawny dog happily perches by her feet. Geta ignores her stare as he sniffs the drink, before taking the tiniest sip.

Bleh.

He does not like that.

His face sours as he places the cup down on the low table in between them, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He wants to spit out the liquid but stops himself. Instead, he swallows the liquid and swallows down more saliva to try to rid the awful taste.

He can't help but glare at her. Her mouth opens and more grating noise comes out of it. Has she not realised from his shouting earlier that he clearly doesn't speak her language?

“Imbecile,” He counteracts, muttering under his breath bitterly. His eyes glance around the room again. Eyeing objects which feel alien to him. From where he’s sitting there’s perfect view of a flat black box standing on a chest of sorts. There’s also a dining area, but not in a separate room like usual. It’s just a table and chairs, out in the open, in the living room. Peasant style, he thinks. “What is this place?” He asks.

She suddenly jumps up and he grimaces at her…happiness? She races past him, to a different room—the dog perks up and runs with her—and runs back with something in her hands. It's a book with a picture of a set of three blocks of colours, in order of green, white and red. She sits back down in font of Geta and clears her throat, eyeing him with a slight smugness. The dog lies by her feet again. She flips through the pages, landing on one, and begins to say a word.

A word he does not know.

Her eyebrows shoot up, expectantly. As if he should know what to say next.

Geta looks at her, confused, and becomes more irate by the second, as his voice raises. “You will answer to your Emperor. Where am I? Where have you taken me?”

She looks shocked at his anger, staring back at him like he’s a monster. Geta knows that looks well. She furrows her brows, propping the book on her legs, and grabs the rectangular device from earlier. She holds it up right in her hands, the bottom resting on her pinkie-fingers. Light emits from the device, brightening her face. He details her features. The light reflects on the glass circles in front of her eyes. He suppresses a giggle until his anger comes flooding back. “Where is my brother?”

She glances up at him while her thumbs tap on the device faster. His brows furrow in thought. What is she doing?

A few seconds later, an autonomous voice sounds from the device. He grips his robes in horror. “What is your name?”

It's a voice speaking his language. His heart beats hard in his chest. Is this a god speaking to him?

He takes a deep breath, wanting to make sure he has a steady voice for the god. “Publius Septimius Geta,” he utters but his voice wavers slightly. Damn, nerves.

She blinks at him. He cannot read her expression. Though, since she speaks a different language he assumes her foreign intellect does not know where to begin with how to repeat his name. Ha. He finds this amusing yet does not let it show. He keeps his face stone-cold, waiting for a reply.

Her thumbs resume tapping on the device, the quiet noises of her soft thumb pads tapping oddly calm him down.

The voice from the device speak again. “My name is Diana,”

She smiles at him for the first time. Three things flutter in his stomach. One is that the voice emitting miraculously from the device sounds like it belongs to a male’s voice, and by appearance and from the words she has spoken in her foreign language, Geta gathers the woman is…well, a woman. So, the voice from the device is not her own and would not be named a feminine name like Diana. The voice must be speaking for her. This leads him to a second realisation seizing him—why on earth is this woman named Diana—after the goddess of hunting and wild animals? It perplexes him greatly. It casts a shame on the goddess. This Diana cannot even fight him with a broom! A broom, for god’s sake!

Thirdly, Diana is a Roman name. Besides the shame it brings to the real Diana, the great goddess, the familiarity of it makes his heart lurch. Does this mean that his home is close? He worries about Rome and Caracalla. His brother must be frightened out of his fragile mind.

She leans over. He instinctively cranes his neck back. Did he permit her from moving closer to him? He looks down, seeing her arm outstretched, holding the device out for him. She wants him to take it. Geta clears his throat, he is not going to be scared of a silly device the size of his hand. His hand goes to grab it. He stares at it for a moment, not knowing what to do. There seems to be glass on it like a mirror but instead of his reflection staring back at him, it is lit up, showing three boxes—the two on top of each other are blank but the one of the bottom is filled with three rows of letters he recognises. He then remembers that all she was doing was tapping her finger on it. It can't be that hard.

He gathers that she must have been selecting each letter with her thumbs to form words that the device spoke aloud for her. He is extremely taken aback by the extraordinary device. He has never seen anything like it. He relates it to a wax tablet, except smaller, yet more powerful. It is a work of sorcery, and he questions whether it is safe. But, he believes this voice in the device is akin to a household god to her, and he must treat this device with respect. And if that means using it as she wants him to, then he shall oblige.

He warily points his index finger. He’s hesitant to touch it at first, glancing up at her for some sort of approval, even though he emperor and will do as he pleases.

She gives a nod, the corners of her mouth curling upwards slightly. He stares back at the device. The light bothers him, unaccustomed to a device so bright with white light. With the dream, or whatever it was earlier, with the mysterious glowing lady who sent him here still fresh in his mind, this white light reminds him of the blinding light he experienced. Uninvited, a shiver runs down his spine and his stomach churns a bit. He blinks, willing the fear that still lingers away.

His index finger touches one of the letters. It magically appears in the box at the top. He doesn’t realise he is grinning in awe. He continues to spell out what he wants to communicate.

“Where am I?” It speaks aloud when he is finished. He then passes the device back to her.

“My flat,”

He rolls his eyes. Can she be any more vague? “Am I in Rome?” He makes the communicatory-device-god ask.

At the question, she looks completely confused. “I wish,” it answers for her and she laughs.

Geta is not amused.

She realises her joke did not land, and makes the device reply again. “Britannia,”

His eyes widen. It cannot be. Britannia looks nothing like…like this!? His breath quickens, his anger returning. She must be playing a trick on him.

“Are you okay?” comes in another reply from her. Her question tips him over the edge.

He grabs the device from her, angrily tapping the letters. “Are you jesting with me? Because I assure you, I, your emperor, will not hesitate to use force.” his nostrils flare in vexation.

The colour drains from her face. Even in this uncertain environment, he still has what it takes to be intimidating. He feels smug, eyeing her with a smirk.

“Emperor?” she places the device on the table instead of handing it to him this time.

“Do I look like a Plebeian?!”

She winces and seems to shrug her shoulders. Geta’s eyes bore into hers. He snatches the device and he is about to start tapping at it again vehemently when the unexpected happens.

In a blink of an eye, the lit-up picture on the device changes, displaying a word he does not know and two circles at the bottom—one green circle and one red. Not only that, but the device starts to quiver in his grip—making his hand feel like a buzzing nest of angry bees—and emits a loud obnoxious sound of…ducks quacking?! Geta jumps out of skin at the shock of it all. The device practically flies in the air, out of his hand. He's about ready to go insane. This day is beyond bizarre.

Geta puts a hand to his beating heart, holding onto his robe. This sorcery… He eyes his other hand, the one that was holding the quivering device which made it feel like it was fist-deep in a furious bee nest. His hand seems to be unharmed, only a slight tingle lingers. He clenches it into a fist, alleviating the strange prickling.

She shoots up from her seat—the dog moving with her as if they are attached at the hip—and bends down to retrieve the device off the floor. When she stands back up, her face is very displeased. Her small gasp grabs Geta’s attention as she stares at the device. She quickly taps the screen and holds the device to her ear. The quacking stops.

He watches in curiosity. She wanders off, talking, but not to Geta. There is no one in front of her. Geta’s hearing just about picks up a muffled voice produced from the device, talking back to her. She must be conversing with the communicatory device god.

Geta sits tight, watching as she so easily speaks to a god. How is she able to get into verbal contact with a god? It is not like she is the real goddess, Diana! Look at her! He is an emperor, why has he never been contacted by a god?—verbally, for that matter.

Slouching back, he crosses his arms together. He gazes away arrogantly, his nose in the air, trying to convey an unbothered attitude to the whole debacle—but he can't help getting re-invested when she becomes increasingly agitated, pacing the length of the room. She pulls the device away from her ear with a stiff sigh, raking a hand through her hair.

She looks over at him, uncertainty written in her eyes. She comes back over to him, holding her device in her hand. It is not lit-up anymore, but there’s a huge crack, a bit like when Caracalla smashed his mirror. Geta’s body fills with dread��has he killed the communicatory god?! Was that his final farewell to her?! Geta reaches his finger to feel along the crack, detailing the tiny crystals of glass, but she shoves it in her pocket before he can, muttering something laced with resentment.

She then begins rushing around, pulling her shoes on and picking up a black odd-shaped case. She then removes something from the wall and turns to him, holding some sort of circular dial with symbols all around it and two thin black arrows. One is shorter staying pointed at the “3” shaped symbol on the top right. The other is longer and ticks, moving by the second.

He stares at it for a moment, mesmerised by the ticking sound and the moving arrow.

He presumes it is a timepiece—but it is unlike one he has seen before. He knows of sundials and even the klepsydra and obelisk, which rely on the sun or water, but this piece of technology seems to calculate the time on its own. He has no idea how, yet. He also notes it is using a different numbering system instead of the Roman Numerals he is familiar with. Another work of sorcery… He worries if she is trying to cast a spell on him or hypnotise him, the ticking and ever-moving arrow pulling him into a trance. That is, until her finger appears on the dial, pointing to another symbol, snapping him out of his daze.

Her finger taps the “3” symbol where the smaller arrow is and then her finger points down to the ground—as if signalling that is the time now—and then points to the door to her home. Geta gathers she's trying to tell him that is the time now and she must leave. He nods his head. She then points to the “6” symbol several times. That must be when she will be back. He nods again. She hands him the timepiece, holding it in his hands. Before she leaves, she offers him a smile.

Now he is left with…a dog. Whatever it’s name is, he does not care, right now.

He sighs, a long irate sigh. He has never been fond of…pets. Caracalla has a pet monkey for God’s sake. Geta has always found it ridiculous, but even now, he cannot deny the truth—that monkey, though it annoys Geta,—does wonders in calming Caracalla down.

He hopes the monkey can do so now, with Geta himself being…gone…Lost? Dead? Reborn? Geta is still unsure.

A/N: Geta being confused by her glasses this entire fanfic and thinking her phone is a god are my favourite jokes so far. 😭 btw this is what the iPhone duck quacking ringtone sounds like.

Oh, and the way he would pronounce Diana in Latin is so hot (Latin is so hot idc). Basically, it's like “Dee-ah-nuh”.

I also have dyscalculia so I don't know why I made myself explain how a clock works in a Roman’s mind. Ffs😭. I hope it makes sense.

Taglist for this fanfic (comment if you want to be added/removed): @minamoomoo @silpiisoverrated @gorbo-longstocking @cokepowder55

[onenicebugperday]

@emordnilap-fr submitted: went on a walk recently, thought you may like some of these guys :]

unidentified caterpillar making the :3 face! i tried looking but couldn't ID it; location is southeast louisiana if you have any ideas

a couple varying orb weavers: orchard orb weaver, yellow garden spider, and spiny orb weaver!

and golden orb weavers!! you can see the gold silk, the one on the right was fixing her web and eating(?) the damaged threads!

That caterpillar is absolutely precious. It's one of the emperor butterflies - they have cute lil horns. In your area either a hackberry emperor or a tawny emperor.

VERY nice collection of spiders. The southeast is very lucky to have such a huge range of cool spider species. Please blow them all a kiss from me.

[windpurr]

I had some crazy luck with my butterfly pictures got a lot of tawny emperors and one green June bug swaming a tree and go some pretty good pictures.

[meandmythoughts210]

The oppressive heat perforated each lungful of hateful, poisonous air. It choked him as he gazed at the figure before him. The magma of Mustafar churned around them, the waves of impenetrable heat rising off the rivers of molten rock adding to the already disconcerting scene.

Anakin, the man–boy–he had thought he knew as he knew himself, was made a stranger by an unfathomable well of hatred, hurt, sorrow. He began to pace along the bank of the molten river, lightsaber in hand.

“You failed, Obi-Wan,” he said in a flat, unaffected tone, “this is your great dereliction.”

“I know.” he swallowed, struggling to speak past the knot of guilt in his throat.

  “I know, I left you here. I–”

Anakin laughed, a bitter sound that echoed unnaturally off the rocks around them. That was not the laugh of his Padawaan, of his brother. He didn’t know this person.

“Your failure came long before our meeting on this hellish planet. For all your wisdom, all your calculations, all your devotion to the Force, you could not see beyond your own nose.”

The hem of his cloak, brought too close to the river of lava, burst into flame. It engulfed him as his quiet bitterness turned into fury.

“I have been a slave all my life. To Wato, to the Jedi, to The Emperor. The Chancellor,” he sneered, “groomed me for years. He made me his perfect puppet. Why didn’t you sense it? Why didn’t you suspect? Why didn’t you intervene?”

The flame was searing his flesh, a foul stench filling the air. They danced around his head, crowning him with his own destruction. As he lurched forward, he ignited his lightsaber, the blue Kyber crystal having been bled to a bloody crimson. 

“You could have saved me long before this night, Obi-Wan!” he raged. The shadows cast by his fiery halo bent and stretched, making him appear larger.

“This is your doing Obi-Wan! Look at me! Look at me, see what you have made! LOOK AT ME!”

Obi-Wan forced himself to look into the creature's eyes. His stomach clenched as he looked into them. The man was well and truly gone; an animal’s tawny iris, ringed with a wreath of hateful scarlet, looked back at him.

Sorrow like he had never known flooded his heart. He had no defense against the accusations laid before him. They were the same rebukes he had whispered to himself in the lonely hours of the night, as he pleaded with the Force or whatever power was there to allow him to fix it, somehow. 

Anakin's skin was rapidly melting away, dripping absurdly to the ground like the wax of a forgotten candle. Fire seeped through him until there was nothing but charred bones and his robotic prosthetics left. The thing that used to be Anakin continued to advance, swinging it’s lightsaber so that sparks lept from the rocks in front of it as it walked. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He couldn’t speak past the tears that threatened to burst their dam the more he opened his mouth. He took half a step back from the skeleton as it came closer. He wanted to run, but his feet felt as if they were fused to the ground. 

“Your sorrow means nothing,” it said. It plunged its crackling lightsaber into his chest, burying it to the hilt.

He sat up, gasping for air. His chest heaved as his heart thundered inside its cavern, desperately attempting to regulate itself. His lightsaber was in his hand, his thumb on the button, ready to ignite the cerulean blade. 

“A dream,” he told himself, “nothing more than a dream.” It didn’t comfort him.

The night air chilled his clothes, made damp by his panicked sweat. He moved to get out of his makeshift bed, knowing to chase sleep would be futile. He paused as he sat on the edge of the bed, his bare feet resting on the dusty stone floor. Grief, remorse, fear. They weighed him down, fettering him to his bed. 

He felt a weariness beyond his years. The guilt had stretched his soul nearly past its capacity, making each breath, each motion a burden. The weight of so many deaths–Qui-Gon, Sabine, Padme, Anakin, Ahsoka, the list went on and on–sat on his shoulders. He sometimes wondered why he should continue to draw breath or why his heart should continue to beat. What was left?

Some reserve of strength in his soul began to break. The man that used to be Obi-Wan Kenobi put his graying head in his hands and wept.

[halltastic]

Tawny emperor

[tulinokkaelain]

9 BOOKS I PLAN TO READ IN 2025

Thank you for @rebel-revenant tagging me! <3

Will 2025 be the year that I manage to continue reading some unfinished book series? Please…I need to finish something. 😂 (Also planning to read Anne Rice, but I took this also as a challenge to list other things.)

1) The Lies of Locke Lamora - Scott Lynch

I started this book last year, but got distracted. But what I read was very good! Crime, plots, lies & Venice vibes!

2) Pääskytorni / The Tower of the Swallow (The Witcher) - Andrzej Sapkowski

I love the previous book (Baptism of Fire) in this series so much that I’ve listened to the audiobook three times instead of continuing the series. Help. I must do something about it. Reading in Finnish, since everybody I’ve ever talked to says the translation is better. And yes, it is very good!

3) System Collapse (The Murderbot Diaries) - Martha Wells

Murderbot my beloved. Haven't read the newest book yet.

4) Shadows Return (Nightrunner) - Lynn Flewelling

I’ve read the first three books in this series multiple times…they’re kinda my comfort books, I guess. I’ve had the entire series on my shelf for so so so long, yet I keep reading only the first three. Unhinged. This stops now.

5) Pienen hauen pyydystys / Fishing for the Little Pike - Juhani Karila

I’ve read this book before, but I need it in my life again. I can’t stop thinking about it. Weird small town vibes mixed with Finnish folklore. I’ve got a weakness for magical realism.

6) He Who Drowned the World (The Radiant Emperor) - Shelley Parker-Chan

Excited to read this second book, the first one was amazing!

7) Dune - Frank Herbert

“I’ll read the book before the second movie comes out.” - Me, 2021

Did I? No…

8) Fool's Fate (The Tawny Man) - Robin Hobb

Realm of the Elderlings books are all amazing. I love the characters and worldbuilding so much! I must finish it! This has been on hold for…three years. Truly, oops…..

9) Elolliset / Beasts of the Sea - Iida Turpeinen

I read very little historical fiction, but this debut novel comes highly recommended. “Approaching the subject of biodiversity through individual destinies, Beasts of the Sea is a story of grand human ambitions and the urge to resurrect what humankind, in its ignorance, has destroyed.” So, I’m ready to cry about sea cows, or something. (Looks like it will be published in English this year.)

---

Tagging: Oh lord, I have a terrible social anxiety that tells me I’ll die from tagging people, but I’m being brave and tagging some people from my recent notes. So, don’t feel pressured, since I don’t know if you have any interest or have already been tagged. Aaaa!🙈🙈🙈 @herbeloved82 @berrybeeli @monstersinthecosmos @ladyvampir3 @joinmeindeathh and hey @vanitasmagoria