#mothman lore

[flowersandbigteeth]

Roth the mothman was so cute! Thanks so much for deciding to write my little brain rot idea! It’s also so nice that the club girls are respected and taken care of.

Now I can only imagine how adorable Roth would be if reader birthed a human daughter, and Roth being thrilled to play the tooth fairy. Collecting his little princess’s baby teeth over the years and putting them in a separate ostentatious case.

Why do mothmen collect their enemy’s teeth? What’s your lore on that?

I'm glad you liked it ^_^ I spent a long time thinking this one through to get it right <3

Yes, the club girls are a menace :D Roth mostly provides security, and supplies, the girls run the show how they want to run it.

OMG he would love having his babies' little first teeth!!!

So the teeth thing. I've been thinking about this tradition for a while and trying to figure out how to work it a story. Originally, the idea came from a medieval European practice where baby teeth were tossed into a fire immediately after they lost them so witches couldn't control their children.

I liked the idea that teeth have a sort of psychic power attached to their owner. In Roth's culture, they take it quite a few steps further. The strongest teeth (usually the front two, canines, or fangs) are taken from someone who wronged you gravely, so you would hold some mystical power over them so they can't offend you again. If a person is killed and their teeth are extracted, the Moth people believe they hold their enemies' power. The more teeth a Moth person possesses, the more powerful they are seen to be. This is an especially pertinent tradition to other monsters, like Elijah as having big fangs are very important to his abilities as a werewolf. Being defanged is humiliating.

One other tradition I also thought was interesting when researching Mothman, was that Mothmen are a harbinger of bad luck, not necessarily baddies themselves. So I thought in the monster community, Mothmen are considered pillars of justice. If a Mothman removes your teeth, everyone in the monster community knows you really fucked up somehow and you are shunned.

Mothmen's lives are a little lonely because if you hang around one, the general thought is they are kind of spooky and your might life might take a bad turn in the future, which is why I thought it was cute that the reader has chronic bad luck until she meets Roth. He might be bad luck to others, but not to the people he chooses to offer his protection.

[starboydreamy]

if my research is correct then please stop hunting for mothman- most if not all times this entity was spotted it was right before something horrible happened

[ayy-junipei]

Mothman and Nightcrawler Wait for the Bus

[mothfulhansel]

the moth

[princeofheartsss]

Mothmanifies your silver the hedgehog

[monthgirl]

[therosettasun]

Lucy isn’t human.

Neither is Leola,

or Iris,

or Creek.

Mistyvale manufactures monsters.

And Lucy is the great horned owl.

[absent-enigma]

mothman Horror x reader pt 2 compilation from ao3

While mothman was motionless, you took the opportunity to observe him.

He was massive, wings folded behind powerful shoulders. Soft reddish-orange fur covered the clavicles, collarbone and halfway down the sternum. The upper cervical vertebrae were partially visible. The skull held fluffy antenna, the left one somewhat tattered. In the dim light, you could barely make out a terrible jagged hole in the left-top side of mothman’s skull. The right eye socket was void of light. 

Mothman moved slowly near to hold up a small wooden sign.

‘Horror’ was written on it.

Mothman pointed a claw to it, then himself.

-

“Your name is Horror?”

Horror perked up at your voice. Unable to speak through his current upset, he nodded eagerly in return. He doubted it was enough to jog your memory, but that was okay. He had plenty of items around your shared home to help you remember. 

As much as Horror wanted to hold you close and assure you everything would be okay, as you’d done for him in the past, he couldn’t, wouldn’t do so when you were so wary of him.

Especially now, when you discreetly scooted backward in the nest.

Horror let slip an unhappy whine.

-

A mothman named Horror. 

You weren’t going to judge a book by its cover or name, but you were going to be wary of a massive cryptid creature being so close.

This was likely a case of mistaken identity, but how do you explain that to someone who looked so hopeful yet lost when staring at you? You weren’t sure what would happen if Mothm…Horror decided you were an intruder in his home opposed to someone he thought he knew. 

As dangerous as it might be, and ill-timed, you needed rest to process this situation.

“…mind if I sleep here?”

-

Despite your continued fear and wariness of him nearby, you wanted to sleep here?

Horror couldn’t help but shove his bulk up against the nest to croon sad yet happy noises. Despite  not remembering him, you found the nest acceptable and safe to sleep within. You must like the modifications he’d made at your suggestion. 

If only he could join you; Horror wanted to keep his mate warm and comfortable.

“Safe here.” Horror eventually murmured. “Rest.” Slowly lowering his large body alongside the nest, Horror’s four arms uselessly clutched a stray pillow.

It wasn’t warm and alive like you were.

-

A light brush of your hair woke you from your slumber. By the time you turned over, Horror’s hand drew away to join the two comfortably resting on the side of the nest, his fourth hand used to rest his cheekbone against palm.

Horror, eyelight dilated to fill his socket, gazed down at you with utter adoration.

You swallowed down a scream over this mothman looming over you while you’d been sleeping.

Horror noticed your trepidation, visibly deflating; a feat for someone so large. 

You watched Horror get to his feet, leaving the cozy home subdued as he took flight.

-

Soaring through the early morning sky, Horror’s desperation rose.

He needed something important to show his mate; to help jog your memory.  He couldn’t stand the thought of being unable to be near to you but knew from his own past lapses in memory that pushing did no good.  But what could he possibly-

‘Amazing! This flower is rare, Horror! It blooms in very few places, deep inside caverns by pools of water.’ 

Horror switched directions with an eager beat of wings. Distracted as he was, Horror did not notice a figure following him, wings flapping occasionally to keep up.

-

With Horror’s departure, your mind laid out your situation.

You were currently in unknown territory, all alone with a large mothman who’d scooped you up into his four arms to bring you here to his home, convinced you were his mate. 

Before that, the highway your vehicle broke down on was rife with cryptid sightings, where car failures happened occasionally. Despite this knowledge, you’d decided to drive late at night, instead of staying in the motel you’d passed by.

…maybe your cryptid-obsessed friend could help you figure out how to convince Horror that you were not, in fact, his mate.

-

Horror correctly remembered the flower’s location in the cavern.  Plucking one reverently, he tucked it away.

“Haven’t seen you here in years.”

Horror pivoted, avoiding sharp claws and talons. Seizing a bony ankle, Horror leaned away, avoiding a strike from large, black feathered wings.

“Did you abduct someone again?”  

Reaper.

“This is the third time.” Reaper’s empty sockets blinked. “You shouldn’t keep what’s not yours; humans will show up, searching.”

“My mate.” Horror growled, fur bristling.

“It’s not, Horror.  I’m sorry.” Reaper twisted out of Horror’s grasp, browbone furrowed. “You know humans shouldn’t live here. It’s too dangerous for them.”

-

Horror didn’t return.

Either he figured out you weren’t his mate, or he went out to clear his skull to figure out how to prove it to you.

You startled at a loud message notification from your phone.  Checking the text, you saw it was the tow-truck company wondering where you were. Getting that sorted, you wonder what-

“Heya.”

Another low voice.

You turn.

The embodiment of death perched at the edge of the nest, large black feathered wings spread.

…wait.

It was a winged skeleton monster, dressed entirely in black, wearing a cowl.

“Wanna go home?”

-

Horror lurched through the underbrush, wings fluttering. He’d worn himself out tussling with Reaper in the cavern to be up to flying home. 

He had strong legs from being forced to climb during times he had to reserve his stamina. Soon, he’d be able to take to the sky, but Horror feared he may be too late.

Reaper was swifter.

By the time Horror reached the tree top home, it was too late. 

Reaper had taken you away. 

No.

Horror wouldn’t allow it. 

Not again. 

…the nest was empty.

This treetop home no longer felt like home, without his mate.

[rad-fever]

meet Atlas — my fucked up, greasy little cultist boy <3

(zoomed for details under the cut)

[pumpkin-bread]

A WHOLE SWARM OF BABIES

These are my half-fair folk veilspun. There is absolutely no reson why they couldn't look like adorable rainbow mothmen. So here you go. This group of sibs decided on this look.

Not much difference between them? Sure! But every piece is done a little differently, AND, they are low priced. People wanted me to make ten moths so.

Wisp - Elytris - Epsilon

Whisper - Baltia

125g each. Lore family. Colours are megarare and I went through hell to make the breeding pair they came out of.

ENJOY AND THANKS IF YOU BUY!

[mothmussy]

The lore is important

[calder]

Fallout 76 Night of the Moth - Cultist Enlightened Robe concepts by Nemanja Dojkic

[who-canceled-roger-rabbit]

It's perhaps fitting that in my story that started as a depotterized American AU fic, the Gary Oldman analogue does the "changing into a beast form that people mistake for a traditional death omen" thing, except here instead of a black dog it's Mothman

(Tagging @loki-zen here as they have a bit of a background in British folklore, albeit focused more on Arthurian legend from what I recall)

[hellsite-detective]

CAN YOU PLEASE FIND ME THE MOTHMAN STEAL HIS LOOK POST FOR PEAK GENDER EUPHORIA?!?!?!!!!?!????!?!!!!!🖤♥️

-sincerely, your local mothman simp

now, i was unsure what this post was, but i was intrigued so i simply had to track it down. i went down to the Search Bar and walked up to the Don Google. i asked them for a very simple request, that bein' "tumblr mothman steal his look." they reached into their briefcase and pulled out the post i was lookin' for. upon lookin' at the photographs, i knew i was lookin' at peak fashion. i filed that post away.

here you are! i gotta say, i get where you're comin' from! that headband and glasses combination just hits the spot for me for aesthetics. have a great day!

Post Case: Closed

[thesnakethatmarches]

I cannot stop thinking about Indrid Cold in Dust season 2.

He came to Earth at some point before Amnesty? Maybe he’s been here the whole time? There was a period of time when all these fantasy creature, all the ghosts and werewolves and vampires were real? Or maybe it’s a different Earth and he somehow got to the current Earth?

Indrid Cold, transient mothman on the run, unable to stop or else.

Indrid Cold, who took up a role as a patron of a God who’s whole thing is forever moving, never stopping never making connections always going in order to survive in a world he’s not a part of.

Indrid Cold, <33

[corrodedcoughin]

Corroded coffin cover of ‘day man’ with full WWE style wrestling accompaniment of Freak dressed as Day Man and Eddie as Night Man ending with a steal chair knock out and Eddie having to be dragged off stage