Knitted Familiars

Angel, he/him, 25. I knit.

[hystericalgothic]

Hi. I like knitting weird little guys. This is my blog where I post them. I also reblog art that I like. This includes the occasional erotic artwork. Please keep this in mind.

My published knitting patterns -> ravelry

To filter for my knitted works, search #knitted familiars

To see my mother's cat Charlotte, search #charlotte posting

Okay cool that's all have fun.

[weepingwidar]

Camille Theodet (French, 1995) - La Beauté du Diable (The Devil's Beauty) (2024)

[gothiccharmschool]

Floralgoth dress! The Madwoman in the Attic handed it to me so I can sew the sleeve buttons on.

[homeofhousechickens]

Oh baby fight

[its-a-beautful-day]

See them jousting

[homeofhousechickens]

So cute, I love it!

[medusaspeach]

Doing the Queen's Makeup - Iris & Hera

Thought it'd be cute for Iris to have a little crush on Hera, and for Hera to be oblivious to it.

[knitted-familiars]

amanita button mushlings! little baby buttons! depicted here are species a. muscaria and a. phalloides.

Little sprites plucked fresh from the soil and ready to bumble about. They can't see yet. The eyes develop higher on the stalk, protected by the veil tissue until the cap blooms.

if you'd like to make one yourself you can pick up the pattern on ravelry.

[stars-bean]

Fantasia (1940) dir. David D. Hand, Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske

[velvet-jellyfish]

Looking for disability crafts I can do sitting in bed, so I’m channeling my inner grandma. Richelieu cutwork doily from a pattern I drew myself. Here is a link if anyone wants it!

[hystericalgothic]

Pretty good how cats can laying on the floor

[axymoron]

he is a heart because he loves you so much

[gastropodsyay]

Puerto Rican semi-slug

Gaeotis flavolineata

[vyroskartdolls]

Nimmeth

Character (c) ArtofMaquenda

[s1ck0]

cdbunker2

[superzodd]

Memories

Decided to give my nameless Listener some backstory loosely based off my gameplay:

Still a teenager when he's caught in the Imperial ambush. A blow to his head left him with scattered memories, scattered thinking. He knows only two things when his head is on the chopping block: this Empire wants him dead and given the chance, he'd kill the Emperor himself.

He soon learned the strength of his sword arm. He survived the dragon's fire at Helgen with the help of Ralof, but not without bloodying a few Imperials. Was this how the world worked? Kill or be killed?

He stole the first horse he could and made the frozen journey to join the Stormcloaks. Ralof assured him they'd take any Nord willing to fight. He learned another thing about himself: he knew how to ride a horse well. Which came in handy - wolves stole his meager provisions. Then his horse, somewhere near Kynesgrove.

Windhelm. They almost closed the gate on him. Seeking shelter from a blizzard, he broke his way into the only house without candles in the windows. Inside was Aventus Aretino and his... mother.

The singsong chant. Covered in blood. He watched the boy's dedicated ritual for some time before making himself known.

Two starving boys, together. He didn't try to convince the jubilant youth he wasn't the one he sought. He hadn't seen anyone grateful to him since he saved Ralof at Helgen after stabbing that Imperial officer. So, he simply nodded along. Grelod the Kind would die. He listened all night long to the many different ways she should.

The next day, before he ever reached Ulfric, the guards at the Palace of Kings ran him off. Unsure if he should ask them to take him in, he set out to Honorhall Orphanage.

No carriage. No horse. No boat. Only his feet. He stole what little food he could from the sparse farms along the road. He'd found a backpack with a bedroll. Made his bed where he could. He learned new things. Second day out taught him not to eat the red berries. The further south he went, the meals got better but harder to procure. Deer often crossed his path and he wished he had a bow. He'd dream of dragons and headsman blocks and wish he'd stop sleeping.

It was getting dark when he arrived. Had it been one week or two? He'd traveled from one end of Skyrim to another. Seeing double from sleeplessness. No one, not the guards nor the townsfolk questioned a guttersnipe wandering the streets. He found Honorhall. Maybe someone there would feed him? They hadn't heard him enter. He coughed his hello. Grelod's cruel words and the hopeless replies of all the children as they went to their beds reached his ears. He was gone before Constance entered the room.

His single clearest memory came to him: stalking his first deer as a young boy. Was this so different?

A dagger and some gold went missing at the marketplace. He thought one of the merchants saw him pocket the coin, a man with a scar on his face, but he just smiled.

Darkness arrived. He clamored over the exterior wall, fingers still small enough to find a hold. A warm night. The children were all asleep. So was Grelod. He was sure to cover his face, but he hadn't expected Grelod's gurgling scream. He'd hesitated. The children swarmed the bedroom as he flew out the way he came.

He slept in the Ratway that night. He'd put the cleaned dagger back where it came from. Somewhere it would look like they'd accidently misplaced it. He knew Aventus would be pleased. He'd fulfilled his bargain and felt good about it. It warmed him inside. In his head, he heard the orphans cheering. Now he had to make his journey back to Windhelm and get his reward.

Assassinations don't come cheap.

[columboscreens]

[hystericalgothic]

Omg dark arisen for DD2???

[sirguyofnothing]

running around as masochist beast in dragons dogma 2