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forlix · 3 months

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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・767 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・felix x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, established relationship, they're in love your honor, pt. 2 of me being very normal about paris lix

𝟬𝟮:𝟮𝟭 — The stars hang over your heads like rice wine dripping into a navy basin. Paris sprawls over your shoulders like a stretching sphinx. Yet the world, in all its rare, tranquil beauty, does not exist.

Nothing exists except for you. You, with your hood pulled over your head and the drawstrings tightened so the fabric scrunches around your wind-bitten cheeks. You, with a few strands of hair escaping from the cotton ring, catching on your eyelashes as they flutter, slipping between your lips as you speak. You, you, you.

Sometimes, Felix experiences something strange. It happened when you walked into the kitchen with puffy eyes and terrible posture, a spot of toothpaste on your chin. It happened at the sight of the warm smile you gave the barista as you ordered at your favorite cafe. It happened when he found you faceplanted into your keyboard at 3 A.M., the last fifteen pages of your research paper comprising nothing but the letter ‘g.’

And it happens now, as you recount the embarrassing situation you found yourself in that afternoon, sporting a smile that splits your face into two. Not down the middle, but slightly off to the side, the way it does when you’re really laughing.

Cue the telltale signs: an explosive blossoming in his chest, a mounting tightness in his throat, a feeling like he’s been ripped out of his body and, from a distance, finally recognizes himself for what he is.

A mortal man tasked to contain the galaxy that is his love, every sun and moon, every asteroid, every scrap of space debris belonging to you.

How he hasn’t yet burst at the seams is beyond him.

“I complimented the cab driver’s ass,” you say.

He blinks at you. “What?”

“I was trying to—”

You’re overcome by a breathless giggle, your interlocked hands swinging between your bodies.

“I was trying to thank him. Merci beaucoup, right? And then he looks at me like I’m crazy and drives away, and then it hits me.”

“Oh.” Felix says, and he, too, starts to smile, his mirth melting his face like a spreading flame. “Oh, no.”

“Merci beau cul,” you sigh. “I told him merci beau cul.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“A Freudian slip?”

“No wa—”

Your expression goes suddenly contemplative.

“Maybe, actually.”

His bark of laughter echoes around the empty grounds, accompanied with your insistence of you should’ve seen that thing, babe. He takes your word for it.

Your jetlagged adventure reaches climax some ten minutes later. You let go of Felix’s hand to run the rest of the distance, heels kicking up puffs of dust. The land silhouette sinks away, replaced by golden speckles that trickle into his field of vision until they’re all he can see.

At the hill’s pinnacle, you stand in silence. The strands of hair floating around you prior now thrash in the wintry winds, and you’ve swapped your wild grin for a stupefied gape. Your eyes glisten like mirror lakes, the city before you reflected in the pools of your pupils, cordoned within the shores of their lids.

There it is again. That familiar feeling of being torn away, of being crushed by the tonnage of his amour. He opens his mouth because he needs to, because he’ll burst at the seams if he doesn’t, just barely keeping the tremble in his voice at bay.

“Can I take a picture of you?”

You look at him, confused.

“Only me?” He nods, and you hesitate. “Why?”

“Just trust me.”

And you do, with everything in you.

You turn your back to the nightscape. He positions himself a few feet away and slots his eye against the viewfinder. The lighting does you no favors with how it plunges you into shadow; you do Paris no favors with the radiance of your smile. Click.

Soonafter, you drift back to his side, plant a soft kiss to his cheek. He gazes at the live preview without a word, clutching his camera as tightly as if it's a piece of a shooting star.

Gently, you dust a finger beneath his chin. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, discovers your face meager centimeters away.

You will never know what you do to Felix, not to the fullest extent. But there are times, he thinks, when you have your suspicions, and this is one of them.

“You okay?” You whisper, your hand lifting to the curve of his cheek, and he slides his own around your wrist, the plush of his thumb nestling over your pulse.

“Yes,” he whispers back, an understatement of prodigious proportions.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8

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keydekyie · 1 year

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The Grounded Sphinx

A young sphinx finds herself in a bit of a mess...

3321 words. Content warnings: foot-hold traps, very mild blood, off-screen violence.

▶──◆─◈─◇─◈─◆──◀

The stark bang of a closing iron trap shook Ciph from her thoughts and sent her leaping into the air a split second too late. The fire of pain shot through her body like a lightning strike.

The foliage all around was suddenly too close, grabbing, tangling. Her paw was caught fast. Panic spurred her to beat her wings, frantic, and new pain coursed through her wing as her primary feathers caught around a thicket and tangled tight, wrenching her elbow and twisting the joints.

She was stuck.

Her heart was hammering, her body screaming, Fly! Fly, stupid! But the futility of that was growing more apparent by the second. She held herself still, trying to breathe through the panic.

Well… shit.

As the initial shock began to wane, Ciph took a moment to absorb what had just happened.

An iron snapjaw trap had closed around her left forepaw, and the reflexive jump she’d taken had wrenched her arm as her wings opened. Now her right wing was hopelessly tangled in the foliage.

This was why her mother had always warned her not to follow game trails, as tempting as the winding paths were. The forest was no place for a sphinx.

Little good that did her, Ciph had always thought, but here she was. Caught in a trap, just as her mother had feared.

This was bad.

Panic rose again, and before Ciph could quell it she struggled against the trap, thrashing and spinning and straining. It was no use, of course. After a moment she tired herself out and went still, crouching stiffly at the end of the trap’s chain and gasping for breath in the smashed-down grass.

It was late in the afternoon, likely late enough that the human who had set this trap wouldn’t be back to check it before dark. Where did that leave her? Well, if a pack of direroden didn’t come sniffing, perhaps by morning Ciph could find a way to get out of this mess.

She shut her eyes for a moment, bracing herself. She hadn’t yet been able to look at her paw, fearing what she’d see. Cautiously, she opened her eyes and peered down at it.

There wasn’t much blood, which surprised her. The jaws were clamped just below her wrist, and the iron teeth were gouging deep ruts into her flesh, but the teeth weren’t very sharp and most of the pain was coming from the pressure, not punctures. She reached over with her free paw and gave a tentative pull on one side of the trap, but it was shut tighter than a drake’s jaws.

She shifted, bringing a hind foot up to brace against the trap, and gave it a firmer tug, to no avail.

Well, the trap was anchored to the ground, perhaps she could untie it. She tried to limp over to the anchor, but her tangled wing kept her from reaching it. If she hadn’t panicked when the trap snapped shut, she could probably have dug the anchor out of the earth.

She was going to have to pry open the trap.

Ciph huffed, set her ears determinedly, and tried again. And again. And again. The sun set, the sky darkened, and she kept tugging and pulling and moving about, trying to find the right leverage to pry the trap open.

Finally, Ciph had to lay down and rest. Perhaps she wasn’t strong enough to brute-force her way out. She’d have to think it through.

The trap consisted of a pair of jaws, alongside two wing-like levers that had pushed the jaws closed. If she could compress the levers, the jaws would slide open. The problem was that she only had one free paw, and with her wing tangled up, she couldn’t bring her foot around to the right angle to step on the other lever.

So… what now?

Ciph sighed, laying her head down on her arm. She had heard tales of creatures gnawing their own feet off to escape these traps, would she have to do the same? Her stomach turned, but something deep in the back of her mind twinged readily at the thought, and Ciph knew she would do it if she had to.

She prayed to the gods she wouldn’t have to.

Perhaps in the morning light she’d be able to think of something more clever.

By morning Ciph’s muscles were aching terribly. Panic had dulled the initial pain, but she’d yanked her arm very hard when the trap was first sprung, and her tangled wing wasn’t happy either. Everything felt sore, including her brain. There’d been no sleeping through the discomfort.

Still, there was work to be done.

Ciph took another look at the trap, hoping daylight would illuminate some little pin she could pull, or a screw she could twist. She fiddled with the levers, trying to find a way to squeeze down one and then the other, but that didn’t work. Her paw wasn’t strong enough, nor the weight of her body heavy enough, to compress them both at the same time.

Then she heard voices on the wind, and she looked up.

Humans.

The owners of the trap, most likely. There were two, both men, one short and scruffy and the other lanky and blond. They stood watching from the other side of the glade, whispering to each other and pointing. They had a sly manner about them, like zatels eyeing up a pheasant’s nest.

Ciph growled low in her throat, tail lashing. It had to be obvious to them she was trapped and helpless, but still they were slow to approach. Well, small as humans were, it was caution that likely kept them alive in this dangerous country.

Finally they made their way towards Ciph, steps crunching quietly in the spring grass.

"No horns, see?” the short trapper said, gesturing to Ciph’s head. “Young, then."

The blond trapper glanced up at the sky warily. “That means the mother may be nearby.”

“We should hurry, then.”

“Can you speak?” the blond trapper asked Ciph.

Ciph swallowed back a hiss, steadying herself. “Yes,” she croaked.

The trappers frowned at each other.

"Should we…?" the short trapper grumbled.

A chill wind shuddered the trees, and the blond trapper scratched his chin. “If it can walk on its own two feet, perhaps… but it’s going to struggle. Sphinx don’t take to being led. We’d need more men either way. It’s almost as big as one of our garjen.”

"We could go and come back…"

"And walk right into the mother's claws? I think not. We should take what we can and go quickly."

Take? Ciph wondered in horror, looking between the trapper’s faces. Take what?

The short trapper shrugged. "I'm just saying, I know a noble who'd pay more for a sphinx pelt than we make in a year."

"Too much trouble. If they'd pay for the pelt, they'll pay for… let's see…" the blond trapper looked Ciph over, as though appraising a hunk of meat. "The tail, the paws, some feathers certainly. Perhaps the wings entire, if we can conceal them."

Ciph’s fur prickled.

“We could each carry one under our coats, I think,” the short trapper suggested. “At least until we get back to camp.”

“Well, best get started, then.” The blond trapper raised a crossbow from behind his back, leveling it right at Ciph’s face.

Ciph balked, eyes wide, but she couldn’t bring herself to beg, not to these creatures. Instead, she looked the trapper in his cold gray eyes, bared her fangs, and hissed.

He hesitated, swallowing, and suddenly his shorter companion gripped his arm to get his attention.

“What? The mother?” the blond trapper whispered, cringing down and looking up at the sky, but that wasn’t where the danger was.

The shorter trapper was looking behind, back across the glade. He whimpered.

Ciph followed his gaze, and almost laughed.

As if she didn’t have enough problems already.

Ciph had seen Kanai before, but always from on the wing or a high vantage point. She’d thought of them as sort of wingless, giant sphinx, and she attributed their bad tempers and grim senses of humor to being grounded like humans were. Who could blame them?

But she’d never been stuck on the ground with them before.

There were three, young, watching from the other side of the glade. They were all staring at the human trappers in the eager, predatory way hunters did when they’d spotted prey. The air itself seemed to still in response, a hush falling over the forest.

The trappers clearly knew how doomed they were.

The blond one suddenly bolted, diving into the brush like a mink into water. His companion fretted aimlessly in dismay for a breath, looking about him as though anything in the vicinity could save him, then fled into the forest in another direction.

The Kanai all lunged forward, two after one trapper and one after the other, and vanished to either side, out of Ciph’s sight. She crouched down, hoping desperately that her spots had concealed her in the grass and none of them would come sniffing.

They’d all looked to be youngsters. Ciph’s mother had warned her the children were far more dangerous than adults.

For a few tense moments, Ciph lay there listening to the wind pick back up and rustle the leaves. Could she be so lucky?

But soon approaching footsteps rumbling in the earth told Ciph that staying concealed had been too much to hope for. She sat up, trying to quell her racing heart and settle her puffed-up feathers. She’d meet this with as much dignity as she could muster.

Being friendly with Kanai was said to be a good habit. They were reliable foresters, careful time-keepers, and often willing to share food in exchange for knowledge, especially of their own kin in distant territories. Ciph and her mother had attended many Kanai festivals and gatherings over the years, but always at a sensible distance.

Being friendly was a good habit, but so was staying well out of reach.

Unfortunately, there was no staying out of reach with one paw in a foot-hold trap and one wing tangled in a bush.

A fourth Kanai appeared in the glade. No less a child than the others, but her demeanor was different. Unlike the first three, this one seemed… tired? Miffed? Not so eager, anyway. She sighed heavily and stood up on her back legs to look around, peering over the trees for signs of the others. She sniffed the air, and then her eyes fell on Ciph.

The Kanai blinked curiously, tilted her head, and fell back onto all fours. The earth shook.

Ciph’s dignity went up in smoke as the Kanai loped forward, eyes bright. With each step closer the ground trembled.

Finally, as the Kanai came close, Ciph couldn’t stand it anymore. “Stay back!” she snarled, fur and feathers all standing on end.

The Kanai paused, raising a quizzical round eyebrow, and smirked. “Aren’t you stuck?”

“Of course not.”

“You look pretty stuck to me.”

Ciph’s tail lashed, rustling the dead grass.

“It’s alright,” said the Kanai. “I want to help you.”

Glaring silently, Ciph considered this. She thought of the trappers, and the other Kanai that had run after them. Would those Kanai be back to chase her next? Would they be as polite as this one if they found her still bound as she was?

“Fine,” Ciph grumbled. “Some help would be… appreciated.”

The Kanai smiled, bowing her head, then approached. She sniffed the ground, looking the trap over. “Ah, one of the snapping kinds. I see.”

The Kanai shuffled closer, looming over Ciph like a mountain. Panic again begged Ciph to beat her wings and fight with everything she had to escape, but through sheer force of will she managed to stay still. The Kanai lay down, which made her seem no less enormous, and reached for the trap with both hands.

“The trick is to pinch these side parts, see? It makes it open,” the Kanai said gently, pointing to the lever arms on each side of the trap.

Ciph watched the claws as they came closer. They put her own little thorns to shame.

“Here, I’ll pinch them,” said the Kanai, “you pull your hand out. Are you ready?”

Ciph couldn’t find her voice, but she nodded.

The Kanai gripped the levers between her claws, careful not to shift the trap too much as she held it, then squeezed.

The jaws of the trap loosened, and Ciph pulled out her paw.

Fear, for a moment, drove the thought of her tangled wing from Ciph’s mind, and she thrashed backwards in an abrupt and undignified bid for freedom.

“Whoa! Stop! Stop!” The Kanai sat up and grabbed the ensnaring tree to hold it steady. “You’re still stuck! Hold still!”

Every movement the Kanai made was more frightening than the last. Ciph snarled at her and scrambled madly for purchase, clawing up clumps of grass and beating her trapped wings against the grasping foliage.

Suddenly the Kanai let go of the tree and backed away, ears tucked. Ciph gasped for breath and collapsed in a disheveled pile of leaves and feathers.

Neither of them moved for a moment, and Ciph’s nose caught the sharp scent of fresh blood. She looked herself over, but nothing seemed any more damaged than it was before.

“Sorry,” the Kanai said quietly. “Are you alright?”

Ciph glared at her. The Kanai’s ears were still lowered, her eyes wide. She seemed nervous.

“Oh yes, I’m having a fabulous time. Thank you,” Ciph mumbled.

The Kanai grimaced and lowered her head. “Your wing is so tangled.”

“I noticed.”

“I can… I can help…”

Ciph snorted, then shifted to sit up. “I can manage, but thank you.” Twisting awkwardly, Ciph reached up to pull at her primary feathers. The tree branches were woven through them with all the durability of a reed basket, and none of the precision. What a mess.

Still, Ciph set her jaw and got to work, picking at the twisted branches and feathers. Her shoulder twinged at an errant motion, and she couldn’t hide the gasp of pain.

“Can I help? Please?” the Kanai begged, leaning forward. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Ciph paused, looking up into the Kanai’s black eyes, and noticed the smell of blood again. She glanced down at the Kanai’s nearby hand and cringed.

Well, her little thorns had found a mark. In all her earlier flailing, Ciph had caught the Kanai’s hand with her claws in a few places. The blood was barely visible in the nearly-black fur, but the sheen of it and the smell was unmistakable.

Ciph sighed, shaking her head. “Fine, fine. You can help, just… be careful. I’ve only got two wings and I’d very much like to keep both.”

“Of course.”

The Kanai shuffled closer, reaching tentatively for Ciph’s trapped wing and the entangling branches. Ciph braced herself, expecting to be grabbed the way she’d seen trappers handle their quarry, but the Kanai did nothing of the sort.

Just one of the Kanai’s hands could have wrapped all the way around Ciph’s body, but the creature was very careful. She held the wing with remarkable gentleness, claws brushing delicately over the feathers. Almost too gentle, hesitant, as though afraid.

“This isn’t too bad,” the Kanai murmured, “it’s just that this blightvine is all wrapped up in the branches too. That’s why your feathers don’t want to just slide out.”

“Blightvine?”

“Yes, it’s this plant here.” The Kanai pulled on a strand and tugged it out of the mess, then held it out for Ciph to see. “It’s common in stands like this. It likes to tangle things. You wouldn’t have gotten stuck if it weren’t growing all over this birch tree.”

“I see…” Ciph couldn’t say she was altogether that interested in botany, but it was good to know for future reference. She’d commit the look of the shiny leaves and their planty scent to memory.

The Kanai was making good progress on the wing, faster than Ciph would have guessed. Her long, sickle-shaped claws were making short work of the blightvine, and as she pulled the plants away the feathers were freed one by one.

“Your feathers are so pretty,” the Kanai murmured reverently, almost to herself.

Ciph frowned at her horrendously mangled wing. It looked like a dead animal. “Uh… thanks?”

“I mean, you know… the ones that aren’t messed up.”

“Sure.”

“A-actually, even the messed up ones…” The Kanai flushed and shifted awkwardly. “I mean, they’re all… nevermind. Sorry.”

Ciph smiled. What an earnest creature. “I’ll take the compliment. I’m sure I’ll be able to fix them anyway, with enough preening.”

The Kanai looked relieved at this. As she continued delicately extricating the tangled wing, she cocked her head, looking Ciph over again. “Aren’t you kind of small for a sphinx? How old are you?”

Ciph’s nose twitched. She wasn’t actually sure of that, anymore. Not since… well, not for a few years. “Old enough.”

“Old enough for what? Getting killed by poachers?”

“Apparently,” Ciph snorted.

“Well… I’d feel bad leaving you here by yourself. Do you have a family somewhere?”

Ciph sighed and rolled her head to the side. “Somewhere? Probably.”

The Kanai frowned, confused.

“I’ll be alright,” Ciph explained. “I’ve been on my own for awhile, now. I’m used to it.”

“But your wing…”

“It’s fine. It just needs some rest and grooming.”

“But this is the far edge of our territory, it’s not safe for you here. There are a lot of humans.”

“Two fewer now, I should think.”

“Yes, well…” The Kanai rolled her eyes. “Those poachers weren’t alone. You’d be safer further north.”

And with that, the Kanai pulled the last of the tangling branches out of Ciph’s wing. Ciph stumbled a few paces back and spent a moment flexing it, but it was very sore from being stuck and twisted all night. It didn’t want to fold nicely against her body the way it usually did, so she let it hang limply at her side. It looked quite pathetic.

“I can carry you a little ways north, if you want,” the Kanai offered, sitting back on her haunches. “There’s a mountain with a cave that’s hard to reach, you could rest there.”

“I know the one. I… I suppose I have no choice but to accept. But those other Kanai who came before you, do you know them?”

“They’re my brothers, yes. I don’t think they’ll bother you, but if they try to…” A fierce look came into the Kanai’s eyes for a moment, flashing like sun on the water. “I’ll be certain they regret it.”

Ciph chuckled and flicked her tail, equal parts appreciative and intimidated. “Do you think they…” she hesitated, searching for a more delicate word but finding none. “Do you think they ate those poachers?”

“Definitely. They’re probably off looking for the rest of the group now.”

“Oh.” Ciph sat back, surprised at the quick answer. She hadn’t thought Kanai would admit to such things so readily. “Good.”

The Kanai squinted at her, dubious.

“Do you eat a lot of humans?” Ciph asked.

“Me? No. My brothers do. I’ve lost count how many.”

“But you don’t?”

“Not really. It’s weird to eat things that can talk.”

Ciph scoffed. “‘Talk’ is a generous way to describe what humans do. ‘Scheme incessantly’ is more accurate.”

The Kanai chuckled at that.

“Anyway, thanks for the help, and apologies for being so reluctant to accept it. Oh, and also apologies for the, um… the scratches.”

“Oh that’s alright,” the Kanai laughed, looking down at her hand. “I don’t mind. I’m just happy I could help.”

“I’m called Ciph, by the way.”

“Good to meet you, Ciph.” The Kanai turned to smile down at her warmly. “My name is Sliuk.”

#ah I love me a first meeting story #tmatb #Kellabor tales #ciph #sliuk #gt #giant/tiny #first meeting #enjoy this piece of the puzzle I guess #heaven knows I don't have the self control to keep it to myself #Grace makes art #Writing #gt writing #sfw g/t #the grounded sphinx

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headspace-hotel · 7 months

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My Oenothera biennis at home is covered in caterpillars of white-lined sphinx moth. I've never seen one before! I think the caterpillars hibernate underground over the winter and emerge in spring as their adult moth form?

O. biennis is common evening-primrose. It has such a special place in my heart. It was, I believe, the first rescued plant that bloomed for me—I pulled one from a crack in the pavement on the roadside, not knowing what it was, and carefully took care of it until it had grown too big for its pot, at which point I planted it in the front flower bed.

I remember how amazing it was to watch the plant develop pointed buds that opened into large, bright, delicate flowers that were the most gorgeous shade of glowing pale yellow. It was so unlike the rich, heavy, buttery yellows of dandelions and sunflowers and other yellow flowers I was familiar with—this plant had its own yellow, so gentle yet so luminous, almost fluorescent. Each day, a new set of buds formed and opened, beginning late July and continuing into the final days of September.

At last, the plant reached the end of its bright, showy riot of blossoms, and slowly dried up entirely, leaving an array of partially split open seed pods along the stem. O. biennis is biennial, as the name suggests. It germinates the first year, forms a rosette of leaves close to the ground, then the second year, it bolts—rapidly growing its stem upward—and produces tons and tons of flowers until it is utterly spent. As the plant dries out in death, the seed pods slowly curl open, releasing loads of tiny seeds.

The next spring, a strange miracle occurred: Many O. biennis sprouts came up where the seeds had fallen, but instead of creating a neat little rosette of leaves on the ground, they began bolting immediately.

One particularly enthusiastic sprout was already a foot tall by May, and kept growing and growing, to my perplexment. "You're supposed to be biennial! What are you doing?"

But it couldn't be denied—the plants were all preparing to bloom the same year they'd first sprouted. And bloom they did!

The flower bed by the front door was blazing with color.

I saw how people designated O. biennis as a weed—it wasn't compact like the usual garden plants, it grew tall and sprawling like an expansive candelabra of blossoms. It was strong and enthusiastic in spite of poor conditions. But it was so beautiful, I was in love.

I learned that occasionally, O. biennis growing in harsh conditions with low competition, could evolve to have an annual life cycle. Apparently, all the seeds produced by the founding plant inherited this trait.

Yesterday, I visited home and collected seed pods from the one extraordinarily enthusiastic plant that had captured my attention, the one that bolted in spring and began blooming before all the others. I intend to spread those seeds in the goldenrod fields and whatever neglected place a tough plant might thrive.

I feel that the progeny of my one extraordinary plant might be more competitive in areas that are periodically subjected to mowing and bush-hogging. The plants these seeds give rise to could be better adapted to the novel stresses placed upon them in these disturbed environments.

The weakness of O. biennis is that it spreads its seeds simply by gravity and the action of water washing seeds away. Its genetics, however exceptional, cannot travel far. So I am helping it out a little bit, by identifying a plant that has evolved exceptionally well for the stresses of a roadside environment and spreading its seeds as much as I can.

#oenothera biennis #plants #plantarchy #native plant gardening

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onenicebugperday · 8 months

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do you have anything neat to share about tobacco hornworms? I got kinda mad at the ones that ate a bunch of my tomato plants' foliage.

They can certainly be destructive! But that's because caterpillars are designed to be eating machines. Gotta get very fat and happy before pupating into adults.

Tobacco hornworms have a special place in my heart since I raised several generations from egg to moth.

Tobacco hornworms are the larval stage of the Carolina sphinx moth, which is relatively large and very pretty!

Lorge. Photos by cassie169, nanofishology, and muir

They remind me a lot of death's head moths, which are some of my favorite species, and which tragically are not available to raise in the US.

In typical sphinx fashion, they feed from flowers and look like hummingbirds when flying, though this species is nocturnal so you likely won't see them flying around in the daytime.

Photo by kim_fleming

In the wild the caterpillars are green because of the yellow plant pigments they eat, but when you raise them in captivity on an artificial diet, they are bright blue, which is EXCELLENT.

Photos by sambiology and via bigappleherp

The caterpillars can make cute clicking noises to scare away predators. Adults can squeak! Or squirt you with a defensive fluid.

Idk if anyone else will think this is cute but their poop looks like little grenades:

Photo via southeasternoutdoors

Once the caterpillars are fat and happy enough, they burrow into the ground to pupate.

They may be destructive in gardens, but captive raised caterpillars are used in biomedical science labs for a whole bunch of different things (including neurobiology!) and of course they are hugely popular in the reptile pet trade as feeders.

Also.......they are precious and I love them :')

#rugessnome #the more you know #insects #bugs #moth #sphinx moth #carolina sphinx #tobacco hornworm #caterpillar #larva #hornworm

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n3ptoonz · 12 days

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Can you write a Smoke x reader scenario where the reader is a book worm and would constantly be in the library during her free time to read but when Smoke catches her reading a book, he snatches from her to read what she was reading and finds out she's reading a spicy scene in a romance novel and gets flustered causing the reader to giggle about it?

sure can 🫣

smoke being nosy goes wrong blurb

warnings/tags: kinda suggestive, &they were roommates, smoke can be a little shit sometimes, sphinx makes it very obvious she favors smoke

reader's lines are in purple

this one is a lil longer, i got carried away 😵‍💫

tomas came in and greeted you, to which you halfway responded from being distracted and wondering just how someone can get their legs to do whatever you were just reading. he was used to you being invested in books, so it didn't bother him

it wasn't until he came back from showering--he came back home from the gym but you didn't notice his tank top sticking to his chest and his hair a bit messy when he first arrived--fresh clothes and asked what you wanted for dinner (malewife king) but didn't answer. he repeated your name two times, looking over those wide muscular his shoulder from the kitchen and seeing that the only thing changed was your laying position. just what was so good about this book?

without another word he walked over to you and snatched it out your hand. you snapped back into reality and jumped up to grab it back but it was too late

"what's so interesting about this book that you don't respond to food?" he asked, holding the book away from you so couldn't reach it

"i just didn't hear you- give it back!"

you failed at grabbing it while he scanned the pages too. damn, you forgot he's not only tall but strong as fuck too. all it took was for him to read some shit he couldn't even comprehend (definitely had to be pegging) and after seeing that, it was like a drama with the way he dropped the book and hid his blushing face in his hands

you chuckled and picked it up off the ground, wiping off the dust and closing it into the bookmark. you walked past him and patted him on the back

"i told you to give it back."

"that is not normal..." he muttered to himself

#n3ptoonz #mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #tomas vrbada #smoke x reader #tomas vrbada smoke #smoke mk #mk smoke #blurb #n3ptoonz blurb

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ranticore · 1 month

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drew this yesterday. a cob harpy ambushed by a sphinx's dive bomb attack. unable to bear the additional weight, the harpy will become fatally grounded. sphinxes are too heavy to fly but they can glide from height and sometimes a game of riddles is too much hassle.

#ice storm over kosa #cob harpy = a male who is not a king #ppl think manticores like twist and sphinxes like flicker are closely related because they're both man-faced cat things but really #they couldn't be more wrong #wingclip.png

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alphynix · 9 months

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Crystal Palace Field Trip Part 1: Walking With Victorian Monsters

The Crystal Palace Dinosaurs take their name from the original Crystal Palace, a glass-paned exhibition building originally constructed for a World's Fair in Hyde Park in 1851.

In 1854 the structure was relocated 14km (~9 miles) south to the newly-created Crystal Palace Park, and a collection of over 30 life-sized statues of prehistoric animals were commissioned to accompany the reopening – creating a sort of Victorian dinosaur theme park – sculpted by Benjamin Waterhouse Hawkins with consultation from paleontologist Sir Richard Owen.

The Palace building itself burned down completely in 1936, and today only the ruins of its terraces remain in the northeast of the park grounds.

The Crystal Palace building then and now Left image circa 1854 (public domain) Right image circa 2011 by Mark Ahsmann (CC BY-SA 3.0)

Six sphinx statues based on the Great Sphinx of Tanis also survive up among the Palace ruins, flanking some of the terrace staircases. They fell into serious disrepair during the latter half of the 20th century, but in 2017 they all finally got some much-needed preservation work, repairing them and restoring their original Victorian red paint jobs.

———

…But let's get to what we're really here for. Dinosaurs! (…And assorted other prehistoric beasties!)

The "Dinosaur Court" down in the south end of the park still remains to this day, displayed across several islands in a man-made lake. Over the decades they've been through multiple cycles of neglect and renovation, and are currently cared for by the London Borough of Bromley (Crystal Palace Park Trust are due to take over custodial duties in September 2023), with promotion and fundraising assistance from organizations like Historic England and the Friends of the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs charity.

Just about 170 years old now, the Crystal Palace Dinosaurs represent fifteen different types of fossil creatures known to 1850s Victorian science, with only three actual dinosaur species featured. Although often derided for being outdated and very inaccurate by modern standards, they were actually incredibly good efforts at the time, especially taking into account that the field of paleontology was still in its very early days.

They also just have a lot of charm, with toothy grins and surprisingly dynamic poses.

Unfortunately on the day I visited in early August 2023 most of the statues were heavily obscured by plant growth, both on their islands and on the sides of the paths they can usually be viewed from. Since I'd seen images from about a month ago showing things being less overgrown, this was probably just some unlucky timing on my part coinciding with some explosive summer foliage growth.

The first island on the trail features a few Permian and Triassic animals which were only known from fragmentary remains in the 1850s. These "labyrinthodonts" were recognized as having similarities to both amphibians and reptiles, and so were depicted with boxy toothy jaws, warty skin, stumpy tails, and long frog-like back legs.

Today we'd call these particular animals temnospondyl amphibians, specifically Mastodonsaurus, and we know they were actually shaped more like giant salamanders with longer flatter crocodilian-like jaws, smaller legs, and long paddle-like tails.

———

Somewhere in the foliage beyond this specific "labyrinthodont" there was also supposed to be a pair of dicynodonts, but I couldn't see much of them at all and didn't manage to get a remotely visible photograph.

Crystal Palace Dicynodon when much less overgrown Left photo by London looks (CC BY 2.0) Right photo by Loz Pycock (CC BY SA 2.0)

These Dicynodon are depicted as looking like sabre-toothed turtles complete with shells. That was fairly speculative even for the time, but considering only their weird turtle-beaked-and-walrus-tusked skulls were known it was probably the best guess Hawkins and Owen had. Today we know these animals were actually synapsids related to modern mammals, but Victorian understanding considered them to be a type of reptile.

Modern reconstructions of dicynodonts have a slightly different face shape, along with squat pig-like bodies and semi-sprawling limbs. They may have had fur, but currently the only known actual skin impressions from the genus Lystrosaurus show leathery bumpy hairless skin.

———

Next time: the Jurassic and Cretaceous sculptures!

#field trip!#crystal palace dinosaurs #retrosaurs #i love them your honor #crystal palace park #crystal palace #labyrinthodont #temnospondyl #mastodonsaurus #dicynodont #dicynodon #synapsid #paleontology #vintage paleoart #art

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a-d-nox · 11 months

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Hi :) I love your web of wyrd posts. I'd love to learn more about it 🥰🩷

web of wyrd: the right-most number, who we are destined to be / what you must accomplish in this life

the number we are focusing on today is based on the YEAR you were born - ex: i was born in 2000, as you see above, my rightmost number is 2 (2 + 0 + 0 + 0 -> 2).

but what does this number mean?

this number represents who we are destined to be. sort of like self fulfilling prophecy - everyone from a distinct year had many years where the expectation of their behavior was press into who they would become and how they would act (via schooling, world affairs, etc). that's what is occurring here in some regards. this the general assumption of what we, and the people born in the same year as us, will become. and thus what we are tasked with accomplishing in this lifetime to become this person.

so let's talk about some examples:

2 - the high priestess

rider-waite's high priestess is depicted as woman dressed in blue seated on the beach. she stares at the viewer blocking their view of the ocean behind her. in fact, her set up on the beach blocks the view as well. seated between one dark and one light column, she presents the viewers with the idea of balance - as the B stands for "boaz" and the J stands for "jachin" which are "strengths establishes" is hebrew they often indicate extremely like dark and light, day and night, etc. while blocking the ocean, she showcases it's ruler - the moon (which she represents). her headdress is that of the phases of the moon showing the shifts in feminine life - maiden, mother, and crone. she wears a cross and holds the Torah showing her devotion toward higher beliefs. behind her is a tapestry covered with pomegranates (fertility symbol).

2s are destined to be connected to the divine. they will be intuitive - they will see through the shadows and all that is hidden from the naked eye (no matter how much blocks the view). they will not fear looking within. they will be comfortable with the cycles of life and their femininity. they are destined to guide others as well as themselves through life.

2s need to accomplish the ability to look within and trust themselves over others. they need to learn to look past logic and small details and trust the universe to take them where they belong most in life. they must also learn that they are more than just their body/vessel.

4 - the emperor

rider-waite's emperor is an older man who sits on a stone throne - ram heads (he represents aries) perch on the corners of the throne. he wears armor beneath his red (desire/passion) robes. the emperor is the divine masculine of the deck; he is a strong leader (we see this in all the stone elements of the card - the throne and mountain range (alludes to the hermit and the fool) behind him - and the golden crown, rod, and orb he has with him). the landscape behind him is barren except for a stream (emotions and intuition) - he can see anything coming. the warm tones in the card serve to emphasized power, authority, and materialism.

4s are destined to lead. they will be strong and powerful individuals. they will take action on the things that matter most to them and those around them. they will believe in and acknowledge their authority, ambitions, and power. they will serve the greater good, not just themselves. they will have big personalities and won't be afraid to take up space.

4s must accomplish self-confident and leadership in this life. it's easy to lead others - but it's difficult to be someone worth following. being a good leader is hard. these individuals must find what inspires them and campaign for that inspiration and action to take place.

7 - the chariot

two sphinxes pull rider-waite's chariot and the man on it. one white and one black (goes back to the high priestess's columns) sphinx lie motionless on the ground - the white looks to the right (the future - the positives) and the black looks to the left (the past - the negatives). despite being armored (he represents cancer) and thus looking ready for battle, the charioteer holds no reins. with the warships and river at his back and the stars (alludes to the star card) over his head, the card depicts the importance of not acting on impulse but rather acting intuitively.

7s are destined to ascend from one reality and into another - they will break generational curses/patterns. they will meet the goals they set in life. these people will be determined, intuitive, and methodical.

7s must accomplish the ability to plan. they need to think clearly and intentionally when making moves in this life time. solid foundations and certainty of the next move is necessary to this person's success. they must face patterns in their life and break them. not all violence/confrontation is necessary, so they must decide throughout life what is worth the fight and what is not.

that's all for today. the next number we will be looking at number between this number and the crown number.

like what you read? leave a tip and state what post it is for! please use my "suggest a post topic." button if you want to see a specific pac/pile next! if you'd like my input on how i read a specific card or what i like to ask my deck, feel free to use the ask button for that as well.

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#astrology #astro community #astrology tumblr #tarot witch #tarotscope #tarotblr #tarot deck #tarot cards #tarot #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #web of wyrd #matrix of destiny #the matrix #the high priestess #the chariot #the charioteer #the emporer

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