#I can have a guard goat instead

[rowretro]

𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕿𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖞

(this is a request I hope this went well!!!)

✧warnings: Yandere/toxic themes, kidnapping, marriage, blood, violence, explicit stuff mentioned (gore etc),Hyper feminine reader, mean af Riki

❁synopsis: The sweet, beautiful human princess married the cold, handsome Vampire prince, for a happy ending in both worlds, where blood shed and murders won't occur anymore. It's perfect, in fact they're such a perfect couple. That's what people believed, but they never understood how broken the couple are behind closed doors...

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"Listen... uhm Riki? yeah I think I'll sleep on the couch I mean I'm human- you're vampire, on top of that I really doubt you do want to share a bed with me-" "I don't want to share anything with you not like I have a choice-" He cut her off as she nodded, feeling awkward. He finally owns this girl god damit. Instead of being all scared and obedient, she's here, pink silk flowy nightgown hugging her in all the right spots, making her seem like a trophy wife. Nail's all blingy, with charms and hearts, her lips still tinted from her lipstick from before, and lashes all done spikey and stunning.

Riki couldn't stand it. She's one of those annoying, mean girl wannabes who body shame girls that are living life. So he thought. She smiled as she went downstairs, carrying her pet goat to the garden. Yes a pet goat, it even had pink light pink shoes, and matching pink bows. Riki found her intriguing. Annoying. "uhm... I don't wanna sound rude but uhm can you please not drink Veronica's blood?" she asked as Riki blinked "You have a goat called Veronica.... do you get bullied in school?" he asked as she frowned.

"Uhm I don't know how to respond to that.... Of course I don't- I can defend myself when I need to- and I don't think humans get bullied for their pets... Maybe vampires might but not us humans" She said as she placed her goat in the comfy little enclosure, and brought her pet bunnies in. For a girly girl she sure does own a lot of pets. "can I suck their blood?" he asked half jokingly as she frowned.

"Id rather you suck my blood." she said as she pouted at her rabbits, booping their noses as she locked them in the indoors cage. "Woah there Mrs Nishimura... getting a little too attached to a cold blooded vampire" he teased as she rolled her eyes. "I suggest you sleep in my room if you want to be alive.... not all vampires here are as patient as I am." Riki simply said as he grabbed her waist, teleporting her to his room. "I doubt you had to hold me but uhm... thanks?" she thanked, scratching her head as Riki smiled.

She's such a pretty girl, so cute, especially when she's shy and nervous, he's seen her smile, fake and real smile, and its so fucking cute... he wonders how she looks when she cries... He pushes her onto the bed, catching her off guard, hovering over her as he suggestively leaned into her nick, his lips gently grazing her skin. A smirk plastered on his lips as he could hear, and smell the blood rapidly coursing through her veins. He turned to look at her frightened expression, then got up, satisfied.

"You thought I'd actually fucking touch you.... pfft you're too full of yourself y/n... you really aren't all that you know?!" as she just uncomfortably scratched at her arm. It wasn't enough of a reaction for him. "Why do you think the real reason is behind your parents and not your older sister? want me to tell you why?! you're a weak useless stupid girl who fails her studies focuses on her looks no matter how ugly you truly are. You're so worthless they went all in and threw you in the arms of me. Me who loves human blood, especially the blood of a sad, worthless little girl, preferably pretty... but you're ugly" He remarked.

Y/n's eyes became glossy. he was right for the most of it, she was more creative than academic, she loved doing her nails and makeup, but it's therapeutic, and she wasn't the biggest fan of her appearance and her parents are very disappointed in her... she constantly lived in her sister's shadow. But Riki doesn't know any of that. He didn't know until he read through the thoughts that clouded her mind. She truly wanted to die.

She's absolutely ethereal, even when crying. "But you don't need them.... you're the most stunning woman I've ever laid eyes on so as long as I have you all to myself.... everyone is safe." Though his words were absolutely sweet, he's being genuine, he wants this marriage though she doesn't. Yet she can't help but notice something eerie lacing his words... his eerie obsession...

Since their wedding day, he was always with y/n, in the kitchen, in their bedroom, the living room, outside the restroom, even in his office where he forbids anyone from entering. Y/n pouted as she aired her lips, lying on her front on the comfortable airbed, piled with blankets and fluffy pillows. Riki snickerred at the cute view. She's always a sight he loves to see.

She's grown so dependant on him, such a typical 1950's housewife, except she has a loyal loving husband who drinks her blood of course. "Riki im boredddd can't I got to the living room and play with the bunnies?" she asked with a little pout as he got up. She stared him up, and god was he tall, she envied him for having such a perfect waist, but she loves him so dearly. "Sweetheart.... I can't go a second without youuu-" he whined a little, as he snuggled her.

"I need to pee-" she suddenly said as Riki groaned "no you don't" he said bluntly as he snuggled into her neck "no seriously I need to" "no you don't you're making an excuse to leave me." he said as she frowned "Riki im serious. my bladder can only hold so much. and on top of that, if you don't want your expensive tailored trousers, and this fluffy bed, and this nightgown you bought me to be all wet and gross and stinky I suggest you let me go pee now!" she exclaimed in a somewhat calm manner. He sighed getting up as he waited outside the restroom door, waiting for her to finish.

He carried her once she was done, sitting her on his lap as he worked. "Riki..." "hmm?" "Can I visit my parents tomorrow?" she asked biting her lip as he stopped writing, glaring at her coldly "no. you don't need them." He coldly said as she whined "But they're my parents I miss them!" "No you don't. Y/n you have me and im enough, if you want more company, wait a few years we'll have noisy kids. until then, me and your fluffy pets are enough understand?!" he warned as she frowned.

"Why can't I-" "I said NO. FUCKSAKE Y/N YOU'RE MINE NOW. WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO TURN YOUR BACK TO ME AND GO VISIT OTHER PEOPLE?! PEOPLE WHO FUCKING HATE YOU?!" he yelled as she flinched, sniffling. Seeing this he snuggled her, kissing her forehead. "awww im sorry for yelling at you babe.... but I love you and you're mine now you know? you're mine all mine."

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A/n: this isnt that good but oh well, have a jay ff in the waiting, and im currently writting a sunghoon ff inspired by Leo the movie w vijay (i had a dream)

[filurig]

some stuff involving non sapient creatures in pareidolia, first image is some animals that tomtar have domesticated, second is a remake of gloson, which is a vätte but is, contrary to most other ones ive made, not a sophont and is instead domesticated by trolls. more info below the cut...

ive already talked about the tomteget in another post, so i wont go into detail about them here, but the one shown in the picture is gullmar's goat (and he is there as well as ucan see). tomtar also keep a domesticated breed of wolverine and ermine, used for some different purposes - wolverines more as guarding/herding animals and ermines to hunt. tomtar don't actually tend to hunt a lot of large prey at all, and what they do hunt is sort of limited as a lot of game birds are sacred to them due to folklore (basically ptarmigans, corvids, grouses, capercailles and things in those veins..). therefore despite how small ermines are they can hunt most of the quarry they prefer such as hares, ducks etc - especially bcs the tomte variety of ermine is bred to be a bit larger and more robust. they can also just be kept as companion animals for many tomtar. wolverines meanwhile serve well as guarding and herding animals due to their size and strength. there is a notable regiment of wolverine fighters in the midlands front - where interested tomtar are trained for combat utilizing the power of the wolverine - the one pictured though is a regular herding/guarding animal though. there are probably some smaller tomte hunting groups that try to go for bigger game with them such as wolves etc. but its definitely pretty unusual. tomteget goats are basically universal across tomte cultures, but the tomte wolverines and ermines are a bit more limited, more occuring in northern cultures historically. although as time goes on they have been spread further south, especially as the midlands front was established and increased the communicative network between different disparate tomte societies. 2. this is just a remake of the gloson from that older post bcs i wasnt really happy with the design - its a laaaaarge animal but didnt really feel like it proportionally bcs i stuck too closely to the normal eu swine proportions... things are mostly the same about them though. the orange parts of the horns glow!

[acoraxia]

I may have just found your art (is so freaking pretttttyyyyy) and your cotl AU but I now desperately need to know everything about the AU because it looks so. cool.

THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME INDULGE IN TALKING ABOUT MY LITTLE AU AHEM AHEM

I’m going to ramble now if that’s ok-

WARNING:: long and messy ramblings about AU ideas, headcanons and body horror/gore mentions up ahead

My Lamb’s story is actually pretty simple: they were born as Aluhé (ahl-weh) to a family filled with traveling performers. They traveled throughout the land of the Old Faith, worshipping the gods (especially Shamura) and performed to earn money to maintain themselves. Life was good up until rumors of the prophecy foretold by the Bishops spread towards the little hers; when Aluhé came of age they learned of said prophecy and that that was the reason why their family “settled down” in a (supposedly) hidden village.

Eventually, heretics arrive and they kill the herd safe for Aluhé and they escape, meet a flock of goats and Jahel (goat co-op character) and then run away due to guilt only to be captured by heretics and be introduced to the bishops.

After meeting Narinder and obtaining the crown, Aluhé refused to do anything in his name — refused to start a cult or touch the crown or anything… for months

they met Koi when they were planning to simply kill the Bishops bare handed and instead save her from being sacrificed (haha me too!). They don’t run the cult per say — mostly due to the fact they don’t want to get attached to anyone but they feel a strong sense of… protectiveness when it comes to the flock, going as far as appointing disciples to ensure the cult is safe and beating the life out of heretics that get a little too close for comfort to the cult grounds.

THE CROWN TAKES SUCH A MASSIVE TOLL ON ALUHÉ HOWEVER — apart from the fact that Aluhé is “easily corrupted” being fueled by a blind sense of justice towards the culling of their species over a family’s spat and a selfish fucker’s decisions, the crown latches on to their body and often does so when Aluhé has their guard down. This allows for certain changes to occur — the lack of hunger, exhaustion and ability to “morph” their body being a few of them.

It doesn’t help that Aluhé refuses to use the crown to fight unless absolutely necessary (because they hate dying because it means hearing Narinder talk and because they’ll end up angry all over again—) and often wears the crown around their neck.

This causes certain personality changes as well: Aluhé is typically quiet and docile when engaging with the flock if only a bit intimidating. They don’t talk to the followers unless necessary and only exchange actual conversation with their disciples. Since no follower is allowed to go on crusades with Aluhé they’re omitted from the fact their benevolent leader is in fact very, very, very, violent

They’d often consume heretics during their final moments or force feed their remains to the few that tried to get away (and failed) so they’d choke and die — a brutality that spread towards the bishops and their own disciples (Narinder still remembers how vile it was to see a meek little lamb get up and tear Barbatos to shreds, only to then use one of the worms’ teeth to sink it into Leshy’s flesh. Charming, really). This only strengthens when they kill Narinder and are eventually crowned the new god of death… among other things… and their body eventually adapts to the changes but it takes a toll on their mental health (

Their behavior, however, can be traced back to Shamura…

Since the two had a very interesting conversation before Aluhé was sent to be sacrificed:

Smh Aluhé you should be grateful to be blessed with the presence of the War Bishop tssk tsk

When the Bishops are killed and, eventually, brought back to life per the Mystic Seller’s request, Aluhé refuses to heal them or allow for their bodies to heal until they repent or make a pact with them to ensure obedience as they join their flock. Goes about as well as you can imagine

A big little change I made was that I made the Bishops Embodiments of their titles rather than just gods worshipped for it.

So Narinder is the Embodiment of Death, Leshy is the Embodiment of Chaos, etc. despite having somewhat mortal bodies they are still connected to their godhood and this will not change due to the fact that the world still needs gods in order to maintain balance — it also means that Aluhé is not just the god of death but the god of other things; it also means they have.. a union with Narinder, so to speak

The Gods have vessels for the sole purpose of their finding their replacements (because the gods will exist, even if they are not the same person they once were years ago) or to gain more worship and strengthen their power. When the Old Faith started getting greedy (coughs, Narinder) it was harder to find willing vessels or the right type of vessels to take on the task of bringing the Siblings more worship. It took years to find the proper candidates for Leshy or Kallamar (because the fucker was so PICKY /j) and it also caused a bit of horror to the siblings to see Aluhé reject the Red Crown as though it were simple

Aside from the Siblings being somewhat “dormant” and Narinder not being within the cult and Shamura traveling with Jahel… there’s a lot of silly little lore I managed to put into the four of them because I thought it’d be fun to explore the capability of Vessels and Gods and “War/Death Incarnate” as a whole — there’s a lot of story lore I don’t want to spoil but you can have these as a treat:

And thats it for now

[the-travelling-witch]

summary: i'm back on my "'i have more knowledge on x topic than all your advisers together, i just couldn’t progress through the ranks for one reason or another, so you should definitely make me your concubine, so i can gossip about your minister of finance’s stupid proposal while wearing expensive shit and fine dining and then we slowly fall in love' royal au" bs again, so have some rambles because there are a lot of possible constellations here

characters: shouto :: kenma :: inui/koko :: al-haitham/kaveh x gn! reader

general masterlist

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐎

You could practically feel the daggers being glared into your skull. This entire meeting so far, the prince’s closest adviser had narrowed his eyes at you, a gesture which you only returned with a coy smile.

Really, just because it wasn’t common for a royal concubine to attend a meeting concerning safety measures at the upcoming masquerade ball, there was no need for such hostility.

Then again, maybe the adviser was so foul-tempered because of the physical position you found yourself in. But it wasn’t your fault they hadn’t prepared another seat for you or that Shouto was notoriously unbothered with social etiquette. So, if the prince ordered his concubine to sit on his lap instead, who were you to argue?

You doubted he glared at you because he was aware you had been investigating him or that you knew he and his fellow spies were planning an assassination attempt on the royal whose arm was currently lazily curled around your waist.

Surely, “concubine” was not exactly the title you had had in mind when agreeing to work as an intelligence agent on the Todoroki court but considering the former crown prince Touya had basically gone up in smoke after an attempt on his life, placing yourself right next to the prince where an enemy wouldn’t expect might not be a bad idea.

Besides, since you had taken the prince up on his offer, you had been able to enjoy many luxuries you could previously not even dream of. Delicacies practically melted on your tongue, the material of your clothes was of a quality so fine it was like dressing in air and the library held rare books you normally couldn’t get your hands on just like that.

You also had to admit, pretending to be Shouto’s lover wasn’t exactly torture either. Not only was he as handsome as they come but he was also very well-mannered towards you even in private. The clumsy side only few got to see when he let his guard down was also quite adorable.

So, to say you were quite comfortable where you were and had no intention of giving up your spot any time soon was an understatement.

“Your Highness is it really necessary to bring,” the adviser paused momentarily as he gestured at you, “this person to a meeting such as this? How can we be sure they are not working for an opposing kingdom, relaying our security measures to the enemy?”

You caught yourself before a snort escaped you. Seriously, how was nobody onto this guy before you came around?

“I have no doubt about their loyalty to me and the kingdom,” Shouto said, tone even as always, yet his hand around your waist tightened. “Besides, their safety might be compromised just like mine, so this information should be shared with them as well.”

“That’s right,” you goated, a sharp grin on your lips as you reached backwards over your shoulder to run your fingers down Shouto‘s neck as you held eye contact with the adviser. “I’ve shown my devotion to the prince in ways you never could.”

Soon you’d watch the light drain from his eyes as you ended his miserable life but for now you’d find amusement in how they widened in indignation.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀

“Your Highness! I must ask you to stay in the medic’s quarters!” Said medic was fussing around you as you pulled the outer layer of your clothes back on. “I dressed the wound and used a minor healing spell but you need to rest! A-and your medicine—“

“I can rest in my quarters too,” you sighed, already halfway out of the door. “Someone will come pick up the treatment later.”

The medic was still stammering long after you already set out towards your room, trying not to put too much pressure on your side. You didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal but apparently the monster’s claws that had grazed your skin were laced in some sort of venom, the pain of which left you wheezing when you received another blow to the stomach.

Half stumbling, half falling into your room, you reckoned whatever spell the medic had cast hadn’t done much to rid your body of the poison, especially if you remembered how he had floundered once you first drudged into the infirmary. No wonder you had gone behind your parents’ backs to employ someone who actually understood his craft.

“Whoa what happened to you?” Kenma lifted his head from his magic-driven game board at the sound of the door opening. His sharp amber eyes studied you from head to toe, taking in the ripped clothes and collection of bruises and scratches. “You look like death chewed you up and spit you back out.”

“Thanks,” you retorted just as sarcastically, working to rid yourself of the rest of your armour, wincing when you strained the area around your ribs. “Must be the poison.”

“Poison?” Immediately, Kenma had perked up, already rounding the table, his game forgotten. “What poison? And where? And why didn’t you lead with that?”

Usually, the guy tried to make himself as small as possible, hoping to blend into the background. But whenever you dragged in yet another weird and wonderful ailment from out in the wild, your shy healer found himself in the habit of becoming a little bossy. Other royals might take offence if their concubines used that kind of tone but you had to admit you didn’t really mind.

“Well, it’s not like you gave me much of a chance to explain,” you laughed, pulling your shirt off and letting it pile up with the rest of your things, then wriggled your eyebrows at the blond. “So, where do you want me?”

“You are the worst, even when you’re dying,” Kenma rolled his eyes before a warm hand settled on your bare back and nudged you towards the bed. “For now, just lie down. And tell me exactly what the hell happened to you.”

Without any resistance, you settled down and watched as Kenma got to work. It was fascinating each time, even if you didn’t understand much of it and you were the one having to be treated. Whenever he focused on something, he adopted this no-nonsense expression, lips tightened into a line and eyebrows drawn together. You didn’t even want to start thinking about the way your skin tingled where his fingers touched you, well aware that the reason for it wasn’t the magic Kenma used.

“I told the doc someone would pick up my medicine later,” you spoke up once your healer had finished his work and both of you were just lingering within the same space.

As always when you told Kenma something he didn’t want to hear, he made one of the most expressive faces of disgust a human could muster.

“I’ll make sure to trip on the way,” he shrugged and you were aware he might actually do it too. “I didn’t spend all this time healing you just so that idiot can poison you again with whatever concoction he came up with this time.”

“Just what would I do without you?” Brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes, you didn’t miss how Kenma, the guy who used to flinch at people coming near him, leaned slightly into your touch.

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐈 / 𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐎

The golden light of the sinking sun illuminated the balcony as birds chirped their last songs of the day. In the midst of the flowers blooming across the railing and the castle walls, three people sat around a table filled with fruits, cheese and many other delicious foods, eating and laughing together.

“But to come back to your Minister of Finance’s proposal,” Koko, who seemingly hadn’t taken his eyes off the kingdom’s budget sheet, spoke up. Splitting off a few of the coins from the stack in front of him to visualise the share he was thinking about, he offered his insight. “I think we should use a cut of the newly allocated funds to strengthen the army’s equipment. The knights could do with new armour, especially considering the neighbouring kingdom has been less than friendly lately.”

“What new funds are we talking about?” You inquired, not having been privy to the meeting prior this day. 

“The party we sent out recently was more successful than we expected them to be,” Inui clued you in with a small smile as he studied what Koko proposed.

“Ah, the expedition that was my idea and that I equipped with the right tools. In that case,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eyes, before you made the stack of coins levitate over your outstretched palm, “I think we should use it to build a magic tower. It would help more with defence than equipping the knights, considering what fun things I could do with one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Koko scolded, reaching over the table to snatch the coins back. “How should we justify the King’s concubine wishing for a magic tower?”

While you shrugged, Seishu took your hand and answered much gentler than the black haired man. 

“I have to agree with Koko. Not because I doubt you could do a lot of great things with such a tower but because we already had a lot of trouble explaining why the lightning only struck the enemy’s side in the last battle,” he sighed, giving you an understanding look he knew had you giving in already. “The public doesn’t know we have a magic user on our side and word of construction would spread fast. Don’t forget why you went into hiding in the first place.”

“Yeah yeah, I understand, no magic tower. But, how about,” you leant back in your chair, tossing a coin you had hidden up your sleeve before Koko could retrieve it, “one or the other magic tome? Nobody would even notice. Just say it’s for a new necklace or whatever else concubines usually get.”

“Are you suggesting we commit fraud?” Koko levelled his accusatory gaze at you.

“I don’t know, am I?” You innocently asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “It would be for the good of the people, after all.”

“How is you getting a new toy good for the people?”

“I could make the grains grow faster or whatever the people usually pray for,” you shrugged. “I’m at least granting their wishes.”

“I thought you were interested in necromancy recently,” Seishu laughed knowingly. “I’m no expert in the field but how is that helping with making the crops grow?”

“I’m sure a walking dead body or two would scare off the crows,” you said as seriously as you could. “It might also scare off thieves, now that I think about it.”

Koko just looked at you, horrified, while Seishu laughed at your nonchalance. When the former regained his senses, he reprimanded you again. 

“We are not using tax money, so you can experiment with the undead and unleash them on the public!”

“Eh, it was worth a try,” you relented before popping another grape in your mouth.

𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 / 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

You were well aware of the whispers that filled the halls of the castle when you weren’t present. 

Kaveh was probably a more conventional concubine to take, considering his innate kindness and striking beauty. Clearly, when he waltzed into the room beside you, it was like the sun was rising before everyone’s eyes. Yeah, he was probably an expected choice.

Al-Haitham, on the other hand…

It wasn’t exactly his physique which raised people’s questions. Moreso it was his gruff temper and apparent boredom with most topics, burying his nose in a book and brushing people off with less than a single word at times, that made your staff shake their heads at your appointment.

Not that it mattered much what other people thought.

What did matter, however, was that your country’s infrastructure had improved significantly since you made your peculiar choice of companions. After most critical meetings concerning upcoming construction, your subordinates believed your return to your chambers meant you just had to relieve some pent-up stress. Yet, those “steamy” nights were spent hunched over maps and graphs of your nation, pointing out the flaws in your advisers’ proposals and redoing blueprints of planned buildings.

Perhaps nobody else in the castle was aware of it, but Al- Haitham and Kaveh were a genius strategist and brilliant architect respectively, responsible for the projects the public praised you most for. And that had been the nature of your relationship in the beginning. They patched out your advisers’ proposals and you made sure they were compensated accordingly, unconventional as the methods may be.

Though, you supposed, after working together for a while, the titles you had given them may not be so wrong anymore. Long nights spent agonising over the ideal location for a new project had turned into quiet evenings lounging around your quarters, enjoying fine wine and lingering touches. Having the two around had become a great sense of comfort to you and running into them between meetings and stacks of paperworks waiting for you made a spark of fondness flutter in your chest.

However, running into both of them at the same time also meant the unlikely pair were probably bickering. This time, you could actually hear them before you rounded the corner.

“I’m telling you, if we use this type of wood-”

“It would rot under the environmental influences faster than you could complete construction.”

“Why, you…!”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhaled ready to calm down the situation somehow. Then, you came face to face with them and had an entirely new idea on how to mediate. Haitham had his arms crossed as he regarded the blond with an unimpressed expression, the pose accentuating the way his biceps and triceps flexed. With Kaveh turned away from you, you had a clear view of his back, as always exposed by the flowy robes he wore.

Sure, they might not be the most usual concubines you could’ve chosen, but that didn’t matter.

“Strategy meeting in my quarters, now. Royal orders.”

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit; do not copy into an ai

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i think @ryuryuryuyurboat was interested in the idea? have some incoherent rambles then jsjsh

[ane-doodles]

Yuridia's sons

Join me for a while in this little infodump…

I have previously shown pieces of information about Yuridia, being the alternative version of Narinder in the goat dimension. Also in the past I showed some slides explaining some details about the differences between the dimensions… and much longer ago I talked about my beloved OC Juvenal

And guess what?

EVERYTHING COMES TOGETHER!! >:D

Notice of long post talking about the history of ocs with a little blood here and there (descriptions of abuse and violence, and poorly detailed images of decapitation.)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Yuridia is the main goddess in her dimension, she reigns over the cycle of reincarnation, being able to kill and bring her followers at her convenience in new bodies designed by herself. She herself can even prolong the cycle's waiting time, but she can also prevent the reincarnation of a soul into its designated body (this is considered a punishment of the worst kind). In the very distant past she was also the goddess of death, but after her blossoming as a goddess her powers were diverted to reincarnation. Something curious is that, being the goddess of reincarnation, she can kill a body… but not a soul (save this fact for later).

Yuridia is also a kind of "master of lies." She herself transforms her body into the appearance of an adorable puppy (Samoyed) to make herself look beautiful and harmless, when in reality she is terribly selfish, aggressive, manipulative and disinterested in anything that does not bring her any benefit.

The goddess also has one… three (?) children, and they are these here:

From left to right their names are 1) Ceracela, 2) Bernabé, 3) Canio. And together they make "Cancerberus"

(Jsjsjs I feel like I have a big brain for thinking about this, let me enjoy it)

Cerberus takes the place of Baal and Aym in this dimension, so here they are kind of guardians and warriors too. Unlike their mother, they are completely dogs (omitting the part with the three heads of course).

Long before her false imprisonment, Yuridia noticed how a rumor was spreading among her followers and the bishops that one of her sons would inherit the crown in the future, and that the most anticipated candidate was Canio, being the most physically similar to his mother. and with a more gentle personality "as a god who takes and gives life should be."

Although rumors spoke of inheriting the crown, Yuridia assumed it was a theft of her position, so she took matters into her own hands (literally).

Reuniting with her children, Yuridia tore off Canio's head, leaving the body of her other two children damaged.

She gets rid of the head but not having the power to permanently kill Canio's soul ends up reincarnating in a different dimension, the dimension of the lamb. This is where my oc's existing little lore comes in:

Juvenal is Canio who, having forgotten his identity, ends up receiving a new opportunity to live. He retains a sweet soul but tinged with fear due to trauma resulting from his death. Although he does not have all the powers he had, he has the trait of immortality and does not need to be turned into a demon to be taken to the crusades.

Ceracela and Bernabé develop an immediate ear for their mother having killed their brother just to maintain a position she was never in danger of losing. Despite this, they must continue their work as guardians.

Neither of them are in Yuridia's domain during her imprisonment, but are instead in charge of guarding the cult grounds in the goat's absence.

When the goat has completed his mission and is about to meet Yuridia again, they try to stop him, warning him that what he does will be terrible for everyone. The goat only thinks about ignoring them and continuing but Yuridia takes the body of her vessel and attacks her sons, considering them traitors.

Similar to Canio/Juvenal's fate they are separated and stripped of their powers. They also retain the trait of immortality.

When the goat discovers the possibility of traveling between dimensions, he is surprised to see Juvenal, immediately recognizing that he is related to Yuridia due to their physical resemblance, although the dog cannot explain it to him. It is in a meeting with the twins that he learns the story of their separation and proposes (beyond Yuridia's knowledge) to reunite them once again, bringing the boys with him to the cult of the lamb.

I'm still thinking about their reunion and what it will be like. I'm also working on a character sheet for all three, although at this point I'd have to draw all three of them separately.

These three have been occupying my mind for a long time and I have tried to give them a good story. I don't know how often I'll be able to draw them in the future (because it's hard for me not only to draw furries but also to draw three heads on one body!) but I'll always be willing to answer questions about them.

Oh! And if you have ideas to improve the story or what their reunion could be like, tell me! I would love to read it…

I hope you liked my little tragic story with a happy ending :)

[limited-hero]

Can we see all the references you've made for the characters in your au??? I adore the ones I've seen but I'd like to see all of them. I'd also like to ask your process and ideas behind the designs!

I adore your art style sm. ✨️✨️

This is the whole gang! (except for some exceptions) I can't say much about their designs, since it contains heavy spoilers for some of them! But here's a quick run down! Minish: he's wearing the Roc's cape as a hoodie instead! His design is pretty simple tbh Past: I didn't want to make him a typical bunny like everyone else does. In Limited hero, he'll be a full grown man with rabbit features! Warrior: He was pretty simple as well. I wanted to keep his blue scarf, as well as the guard look. Ravio: I wanted him to have a merchant kind of look, mixed together with Japanese inspired clothing and some patterns resembling a bunny! Twilight: I wanted him to look like a goat-herder! Turning into a wolf so often had a side effect on his body, and he's slowly turning back to human, with some wolf-like features still remaining Wild: His clothing was inspired by a cosplayer named @/polarcadia He has burn marks from head to toe, from burning himself on the gloom. Time: He's wearing the fierce deity armor, equipped with several bottles with fairies in them, and a chain-ball looking tool to catch fairies with. Sky: He's wearing the clothing of the guardians from the silent realm Zelda: She's wearing an phantom inspired armor Wind: He's wearing a pirate inspired outfit, with tattoos all over his body resembling the waves and the red lions neck patterns. He's carrying Tetras sword and has a glass eye on his left eye Thank you so much for the question! I hope i could answer it! (The designs might change at any point!)

[crowntism]

Dates with the Lamb and the Goat

I'm working on a req rn and I got Leshy and Heket done but I still got Kallamar, Shamura, and Narinder to go so like taking a break from that

The Lamb

Dates with the Lamb are chill and relaxing, and done away from the cult. They tried to take you on a date near the cult grounds but unfortunately they found out that everybody was needy and they can't have 4 seconds of peace.

So instead they drag you out somewhere far away from the cult.

Their favorite is to take you to Rakshasa's restaurant. You (thankfully) haven't asked why the mantis shrimp is so afraid of them, and they really hope you never will.

Aside from from that they enjoy just walking with you or sitting under a tree to talk.

It's nice to be able to relax and get away from the responsibilities forced upon them, and they feel as though they can let their guard down around you.

As soon as you two get back to the cult the date is immediately over as the Lamb is rushed by literally everybody who needs something.

The Goat

The Goat's dates are much more action packed than the Lambs. Dates with them involve going on crusades, general exploring, or play fighting.

The Goat INSISTS that you learn to fight, stating that if something were to happen you'd need to be able to defend yourself. Training is half actual training and half play wrestling and rolling around.

Crusade dates are chaotic and bloody, with Goat allowing you to take the lead but taking care of most, if not all, the enemies. They do neglect to actually take advantage of the crusade to gather materials, so it's entirely up to you to do it.

Exploration dates are much the same, with the Goat letting you take the lead but ensuring your safety, and you gathering extra materials and the like for the cult.

To the outsiders perspective it looks like you're the cult leader and they're the bodyguard.

Dates don't really end when you get back to the cult, as most of the Goat's cult can take care of themselves, so it usually ends with more play fighting or tending to any wounds you would've obtained.

[kandyshoppe]

So! I’m going to school to (hopefully) become a farm vet, and I also enjoy those hybrid Aus, SO! Farm Hybrid Au! (Or just farm au!)

Riddle: a rooster, specifically a red cornish. Cornish are known to be a bit aggressive, and finicky. I think he would have been a neglected chick and didn’t get to the full size, instead staying kinda small instead of becoming big like other Cornish.

Trey: Highlander cow, soft, sweet babys! They’re just happy to be here, and are stocky tough cattle. Their coats are double coated, so they can get matted but it’s rare with a proper diet and care.

Cater: a part indoor part outdoor cat, a beautiful orange tabby mix, who goes through moods of cuddle monster and hates everyone. Never a hiss from him, but a grumpy huff and he trots away.

Deuce: mastiff, a guard/live stock guardian dog breed. Big, aggressive to strangers, but love bugs once they get to know you. Specifically a Pyrenean mastiff, they’re polish, and suited for cold weather best.

Ace: definitely a Nubian goat, head strong, rebellious, LOUD, but they’re not aggressive! They’re actually very friendly, to their detriment since they will try to befriend predators!

Leona: farm cat, probably a Maine coon mix, cause he’s so big and fluffy! Maine coons are also very “dog like” and can learn tricks, to play fetch etc. They also tend to have a resting mad face, which Leona seems to have sometimes!

Ruggie: a stray dog that helps hunt vermin on the farm. I feel he wondered up once, and made sure to avoid the live stock (and their guard dogs) and got some rats or something. He doesn’t live on the farm by nearby in the woods with his pack of strays (including granny!)

Jack: another guard dog! Anatolian Shepard, a middle eastern breed suited for colder climates, and lovingly called “nanny dogs” and they will happily let goats jump on them. They’re a bit dominant, preferring to do their own thing vs what others say though.

Azul: cull duck! They’re a bit noisy, enjoying the sound of their own voice. They’re the white ones most people think of for ducks, small and fairly friendly but they do enjoy nibbling to show affection…

Jade: runner duck! They can’t fly, but enjoy scrabbling among rocks to find grubs, or in Jade’s case, mushrooms! They don’t waddle either! They run! They’re not as friendly as other duck breeds, being stand off-ish sometimes.

Floyd: just like his brother, a runner duck. He lives up to the runner in his name! Prances around, and enjoys tormenting the other animals on the farm. Someone stop him! Sneaks up on others and nips their feet. Has been kicked before, it didn’t stop him.

Kalim: brown Swiss, in the top three cattle breeds! They’re known for being fairly docile, calm and friendly. They’re very affectionate, and can get upset when not given affection from their handlers! This boy is BEGGING for ear scritches!

Jamil: Brahman bull, he can get aggressive much easier than Kalim. He’s also a very intelligent boy, as his breed usually is. But they’re also known to be shy, preferring to be alone or with a specific quiet few vs a large herd! Brahmans also are sensitive to the cold, so his hoodie is a need!

Vil: a jersey cow (my favorite!) they’re so pretty, but also the divas of milking cows. But it’s worth it for their thick, buttery and fatty milk! They’re also very curious, choosing to follow new comers vs hiding. They’re very social, but sassy things!

Rook: a trained hawk! (I’ve never seen a trained hawk around chickens but he is!) he was found as a baby and ended up bonding with the farmer I bet, so now he protects the others from birds, and more sneaky attacks! He enjoys sitting with Vil, a strange pair but it works.

Epel: a Southdown sheep, also known as “baby dolls” cause they’re so little and cute! He’s still a ram though, and hates being called cute! Head butts at will! Is mad that Vil has chosen him as their “calf” and follows him around, keeping him out of trouble. Vil’s no fun.

Idia: a British soay sheep, but he’s got a genetic mutation that makes him a deep blue instead of a dark brown. British soay are shy and flighty, they’re timid even among sheep breeds! Idia probably struggles with joining herds because of his color, which makes him more nervous about predators!

Ortho: à shetland sheep, another smaller breed, but quite friendly and inquisitive (which is rare among sheep, I’m sorry they’re dumb) Don’t let his size fool you though! Shetlands are one of the hardiest breeds out there! Small but mighty!

Malleus: a big black shire horse, now I don’t know as much about horses, but shires are docile and friendly draft horses! I bet cause of his size though, many of the other farm animals avoid him cause he’s scary. Shires are sometimes used for riding, and I bet he REALLY enjoys riding!

Lilia: a fell pony! They’re one of the smartest ponies, and while they can be finicky at times because of their intelligence, they are sweet ponies. He’s too intelligent for his own good I bet, enjoying to open the gates and wander out, but doesn’t close it and now EVERYONE is out and about!

Silver: an Icelandic horse (my brother’s favorite), they’re super sweet and hardworking sweethearts, with a beautiful grey coat! One of the friendliest horse breeds in the world, he’s just a big old love bug! Loves rolling around and laying in a nice patch of grass I bet.

Sebek: a shetland pony, but he’s one of the ones who give shetlands a bad rap. He’s nippy, and stubborn, and loves to whiney whenever he can! Likes the sound of his own voice. Is entranced with Malleus, and wants to be a big horse like him one day!

[homunculus-argument]

have you ever thought of mashing up your prompts? are the beetle king and his queen in the same setting as the demonic creature trapped in a person's head? or the guy who accidentally defeated a supposedly legendary hero? can the people from one of your prompts run into people from another prompt?

I've actually had one story idea that's basically been a mash-together of several story ideas that would've been just throw-away prompts. Like a fantasy story that's set in "vaguely 1700s" instead of "vaguely medieval", and there was going to be a whole stack of stuff there that I'd otherwise have posted as prompts - the only part I have shared was the one about the queen's nonverbal mime jester, who's somewhat supposed to be supernatural, but actually is just trans and autistic. The king tolerates knowing that he's her lover because it's not like he'll get her pregnant.

And the queen has a troupe of ballet dancer assassins as her secret personal guard, one royal poison-the-whole-family-at-once assassination attempt fails because they didn't figure that one of the princes is bulimic. A courtesan with ADHD and an autistic foreign diplomat bond over the way both of them get mistaken for idiots. The Gävle goat is there.

[howlingday]

Hi hope you’re doing well. And remember you’re the goat.

Also I have an idea for you to experiment with Jaune as happy chaos from guilty gear instead of being the rusted knight.

"Well, well, well..." The blue figure turned with a wide grin on his face, pulling his pink-tinted sunglasses down the bridge of this nose. "Team RWBY, you finally made it~!"

Before any of them could react, the huntress team was pulled together in a tight hug by the strange man with blueberry-colored skin. As he pulled away, his smile fell a little. Then he scowled. But then he smiled again, snapping his fingers.

"You guys don't remember me, do you?"

"Why would we?" Yang asked, suddenly on guard.

"Should we?" Weiss asked, looking more confused than anything.

"Ah, right. I did get a bit of a makeover." He gave a chuckle before splaying his arms out wide. "It's me, Jaune~!"

--------------------------------------------------

"So..."

"You're wondering how I turned out like this, right?" Jaune didn't look back as he lead. "You don't have to hide it. I already know everything."

"You probably get along with the Curious Cat, huh?" Yang chuckled. Jaune, however, didn't.

"No." He said, stopping for a moment. "I don't. The Curious Cat is the last guy you should trust here."

"More than Neo?" Ruby asked.

"Neo's not..." Jaune stopped himself. "Well, okay, she's not good, but I'd still trust her more than that damn cat. And if I'm being honest, the only thing you should trust in this place is that thing right up there."

"The... tree?" Blake asked.

"Yup." Jaune nodded. "I've already been up there, I think."

"You think or you know?" Weiss quirked her brow.

"Mm..." Jaune placed a finger to his brow. "Yup! I think I know!"

"I think you've lost it, Jaune."

"Yeah." Jaune chuckled. "I already know that."

--------------------------------------------------

"...And who might you be?"

Jaune approached the pale woman standing before him. She towered over him, even from a few feet away, looming in her long, black and red dress. Her piercing red eyes threatened to end his life, if such a thing were possible anymore. But she wouldn't try. Not while he had what she wanted.

"The name's Jaune Arc." He bowed. "It's short, sweet, and rolls off the tongue. The ladies love it~."

"Do they now?" She was unimpressed with his words. "And what does Jaune Arc believe he can give me that nobody else can?"

"Only what you desire most." Salem found the remaining relics, the Crown of Choice and the Sword of Destruction, held aloft in Jaune's hands. "That is, if this is still what you want?"

Salem was quiet as she stared at him. All of her time and effort spent delegating tasks, decades to centuries of servants trying and mostly failing to bring her what she most desired, and yet this stranger arrives with the missing pieces to her end goal. It all seemed to good to be true.

"I seem to recall reports of a Jaune Arc working with that fool Ozma. I even recall him sneaking into my Monstro to rescue his current vessel as well, even challenging me before escaping with both the relic and Ozma. And you claim to be the same man."

"I do."

"Then why?" Salem asked. "Why would you allow me to destroy this world after working so hard to defend it?"

"Because," Jaune chuckled, "I want to see a happy ending."

[seiya-starsniper]

🌀

Ask Game - 🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

Ooooo I have a VERY good one for this, I'm working on a fic for @dragonnan's art The Centaur and The Phoenix cause you all know the horse girl AU lives rent free in my brain lmao.

I'm going to do some high level story beats instead of a traditional AO3 summary, because even on my best days I'm terrible with fic summaries hahaha.

Fic opens with one of Burgess's men spotting Hob at a market and recognizing him. He sends word to Burgess that he's going to track Hob to wherever it is he's hiding. Follows him at a distance and sees that Hob is going towards Unity's farm (it's the only farm in that general direction).

A few days later, Burgess and head towards Unity's farm, and catch Hob and Dream, who have just gotten back from apple picking, completely off guard

One goon lassos Dream while the other two overwhelm and knock out Hob. Dream tries to fight back but he's outnumbered and Hob is knocked out.

Suddenly, there's sheep and goats bleating EVERYWHERE and it distracts everyone enough for Dream to pull out his dagger, cut the rope, and then back kick one of the goons. He's instantly dead cause horse leg power

Unity eventually shows up to help, the sheep went to go get here. Chases Roderick off the property with the power of angry farm animals and a crossbow.

Dream nurses Hob back to health, and then they go on the run.

The fic is pretty outlined, I just have to wrangle my brain enough to make the transition from outline to full fic, but I am VERY excited to write it 😄

[katsu28]

OMG grapple with rafe please 🤭🤭

i have not written for this man in a hot minute!! thank u for requesting ri my dear ILY <3

rafe cameron x reader, 1.8k

“You want me to take you down.” 

“No, I want you to try.” 

“You’re a child, Cameron.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re scared, aren’t you?” Rafe teased, holding your phone up high and away from your reaching hands. “C’mon, you want it back, you’re gonna have to come get it.” 

“I’m not playing your game!” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Just give it back!” 

“Come. Get. It.” He repeated slowly, a drawn out proposition paired with the gleefully smug grin on his face that had you huffing in annoyance at your best friend. He tossed your phone on the armchair behind him, hunkering down into a guard stance. “You can admit defeat, y’know. Just say ‘Rafe Cameron is the greatest of all time’. I’ll even shorten it for you, you can just call me the GOAT.” 

“How ‘bout I call you a donkey instead?” 

He feigned being stabbed in the gut for a few dramatic seconds before pulling the imaginary knife out and pretending to drop it on the floor. “Low blow, but I can handle it.” 

You rolled your eyes at him. There were two options here—play his game and try to take him down, or surrender and say those dreaded words. Naturally, you picked the one you had no chance at. 

Sending a prayer to whoever was listening, you feigned left and went right, lunging at Rafe to the best of your ability. He didn’t fall for your weak attempt at a fake out, instead catching you around the waist and taking you down to the carpet with ease. 

You noticed that he took the care to slide his hand under your head so it didn’t bounce off the floor. It would’ve been nice, except that hand retreated and pinned your wrist above your head before you could fight Rafe off. He did the same to the other hand too. 

His knee slotted between yours for leverage as you wriggled in his grasp with no avail. You were pinned securely under his hands as he loomed over you. 

“Told you I’d win.” He breathed, his grin very Cheshire cat-like. You opened your mouth to shoot back a witty retort, but your voice died in your throat when his head dropped down a little closer towards yours. 

You suddenly came to terms with the very compromising position you were in with Rafe right now; your faces were mere inches apart, so close you could smell that damn mint gum he was always chewing on. So close you could see the scar hidden in his eyebrow he’d gotten when he’d crashed his bike when you were kids, the flecks of green in his blue eyes. In short, he was right there. 

The tension in the room had quickly turned unbearably thick, too heavy for your liking, but you couldn’t bring yourself to break eye contact. Part of you liked the way Rafe was looking at you. 

His eyes flicked down to your lips for a split millisecond before snapping right back up, and if you hadn’t been in such close proximity, you wouldn’t have noticed it at all. But you did, and so began the most devious plan that you really only had a few seconds to formulate in your head. 

You pretended to struggle for a few more seconds before feigning giving up, aiming a pout up at Rafe. His mouth curved into a smug sort of smile, all previous intensity in those irritatingly pretty eyes of his long since forgotten. He probably thought he’d just won. 

“Face it, you can’t—” Whatever gloat he was about to throw your way was cut off by you leaning up towards him, pressing your lips against his. Rafe made a strangled sort of sound right off the bat, freezing immediately the instant your mouth touched his. Just as fast, he kissed you back eagerly, way more eager than one friend should be kissing the other. And as cliche as it was to say it, fireworks erupted in your belly, bursting against your ribcage like it was the goddamn Fourth of July. 

You only hoped he couldn’t hear how loud your heart was pounding in your chest. 

His grip on your wrists loosened, one hand coming down to brace himself on the carpet while the other planted itself next to your head. The way he was kissing you so firmly nearly had you melting, but the little voice at the back of your head was yelling at you to remember what all this was for. No, you weren’t kissing Rafe Cameron just for shits and giggles; you were on a mission. And no matter how good it felt, how right, you’d be damned if you didn’t complete it. 

You bent your knees, planting them against his firm chest and pushing up—not hard enough for it to hurt, but hard enough that you caught him off guard. Before he could register what was happening, you had him flipped on his back, tables very much turned with his wrists trapped in both your hands. 

“Gotcha.” You breathed, mirroring his earlier smile now that you were the one with the upper hand. Rafe’s Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped hard, tongue darting out to lick his lips nervously. Maybe you were completely misinterpreting the situation entirely, but it almost looked like he wanted to kiss you again. You clambered off him quickly to rid the thought, snatching your phone off the cushion and shoving it into your back pocket. “Good game.” 

Rafe stumbled to his feet and cleared his throat, hunched shoulders straightening as he brushed the nonexistent dust from his polo. “I should—I’m gonna, uh, get going. Wheeze asked me to help her with something for school, I should go…help her with it.” Lie. He just didn’t know what to do other than go.

“Right, yeah, of course. You should go.” Lie. You just didn’t know what to do other than let him. 

He rocked on the balls of his feet awkwardly a few times, hands shoved into his shorts pockets awkwardly. “I’ll text you later?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool, uh. Bye then.” 

You watched him leave, watched him let himself out and make his way down the walk and climb into his truck, wanting to say something more but losing your chance the second he drove away. 

“Shit,” You breathed, burying your face in your hands. It seemed like a smart plan at the time, but now having said and done it, kissing Rafe—kissing your best friend who didn’t feel the same way about you—was the stupidest idea you’d ever had. 

-------

You’d just gotten settled into bed when you heard a commotion at your window that sounded suspiciously like pebbles clinking against the glass, and you knew who it was in an instant. There was only one person who preferred the throwing rocks at your window method over texting, so when you padded over and peered outside, you weren’t surprised to see Rafe grinning back up at you. 

He motioned for you to open the window and you did, retreating back to the warm comfort of your blankets as he climbed up the tree next to your room and slid inside expertly. He’d probably done the same maneuver a million times throughout your lives, though this time it was different. This time, you weren’t just two best friends having a late night hangout. The same tension from earlier was back, only this time, your kiss weighed heavy on your chest. 

“Hi,” He said quietly, brushing the leaves out of his product-less hair. The action made the soft strands flop over his forehead, giving him a younger, more boyish look. You always did enjoy this version of him. 

“Hi.” You echoed, trying to ignore the feeling it sent flip-flopping through your stomach. Rafe always gave you that feeling. 

“Mind if I sit?” 

“‘Course.” Rafe sat a sizable distance away from you at the foot of your bed, broad shoulders hunched, leg bouncing. You knew this change in demeanor was because of what you’d done earlier. 

“Can I ask—” 

“Is everything—” You pressed your lips shut, motioning for him to speak first. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He repeated, smoothing his hand over his knee as if that would stop it from shaking up and down. You merely nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to say or do anything else. “Okay. Okay, cool.” He cleared his throat, inhaling a quick breath and letting it out just as fast. “Did you mean it? Earlier, when you kissed me. Was it real?” 

“Real,” You repeated, tilting your head at him. 

“Yeah, real. Like, did you kiss me because you just wanted to win, or because you actually wanted to? Was it a real kiss? With like, real feelings behind it.” 

You knew what you wanted to say, but you just weren’t sure if you wanted to say it. Because if you said it out loud, that would make your feelings real and not just a nagging feeling deep in your chest. If you said it out loud, there was no taking it back, no fixing things if everything went wrong. This would be permanent. 

But with the way he was looking at you, the way he knew you, there was no point in lying. “It was real, Rafe. I wanted to.” 

His mouth fell into a surprised little oh, but he was quick to shift his reaction. “Think maybe you’d wanna do it again?” He asked, a genuine question marked with a hopeful smile curving his lips. 

You only had time to nod before Rafe was right up against you, hands sliding up to cup your face softly, lips meeting yours even softer. The ring on his index finger was cold against the warmth of your skin, leaving a coolness in its wake as his hand moved to settle at the back of your neck. Your hands found themselves twisting into the front of his faded Kildare Academy sweatshirt, bringing him closer to you. 

This kiss was much sweeter than the first. While that one was spur of the moment clumsy, this one was tender. Less like working towards an end goal and more like going with the flow, seeing where you’d end up. 

Rafe was panting by the time he pulled away, chest heaving as his eyes searched yours for any ounce of regret and came up empty. Then he smiled, big, wide, relieved. You didn’t think you’d ever get tired of seeing that smile, especially when it was aimed at you. 

“I’m gonna be completely honest with you, I would’ve won if you hadn’t kissed me.” He insisted, giving your neck a playful squeeze. You opened your mouth to protest, but he pressed another quick kiss against your lips. “But I don’t even mind that you played dirty, because now I’ve won the best prize of all.” 

“Oh, boo. That was so cheesy, Cameron.” 

“I got my girl, I’m allowed to be cheesy for once.” 

[lost-in-fandoms]

For kitten knight AU, might be hitting to close to home, sorry :(

What about a time when Daniel gets too injured/gets overlooked to join a mission and is miserable and needing his kitten Max's comfort upon his return?

I am so so sorry this has taken me so long and there is actually zero kitten time in this, but I hope you'll forgive me. There's another ask in my inbox that might get the kitten time related to this (when I'll get to it. again, i'm sorry, it's been a lot lately)

The knife had come out from nowhere.

One moment Daniel was walking the rounds in the lower city with Alex, chatting about nothing, probably paying not enough attention to his surroundings, and the next three thugs had jumped out of the shadows brandishing clubs.

It should have been an easy fight, clubs against swords, but they were in a narrow street, which made maneuvering around each other harder, and both Daniel and Alex had been surprised, reacting just a little too late. Daniel had stopped the first swing of a club with the hilt of his sword, not an ideal move, before being able to go on the attack. He had heard Alex swear behind him, but he'd been unable to check.

And then, just as he had kicked the club out of the hand of his thug and forced him to the ground with the threat of his blade, he had felt a sharp pain on his side, a burst of white hot flames lapping at his nerves, and he had fallen to his knees with a cry.

He isn't sure what had happened after that, his brain confused by adrenaline and pain, but he remembers someone running away, Alex swearing more, the sharp whistle of a call for help, the blurry travel back to the castle.

He had been lucky, the doctor who had stitched him up had said. Lucky, that the guy hadn't taken the blade out after stabbing him, keeping the blood loss to a minimum. Lucky, that it hadn't really hit anything important. Lucky, that the wound hadn't got infected.

And yet, Daniel doesn't feel very lucky, laying in bed, side throbbing, watching Max walk out the door. He feels stupid, for letting himself get stabbed, and already lonely.

The thing is, he was supposed to be heading away with Max too. He had been picked for the mission some time ago, for his ability to keep Max calm and to charm people, but now he has to look while George goes with Max and the rest of the group.

Daniel doesn't have anything again George, he likes George, really, but right now he sort of wishes that George was laying in a bed with a stab wound instead.

He doesn't particularly care about the mission. A noble somewhere near the southern border is rumored to be planning a coup, and Max is heading there to talk and, more importantly, to scare the man to death.

Daniel doesn't give a shit about the mission. He understands the importance of it, a coup would be bad for the kingdom in general and for him in particular, would mean battles and death, but he can admit to himself and the mission could be going to count all the cows in the kingdom and he'd care exactly the same amount.

But he wanted to go. With Max.

He's been thinking about it lately, and he knows he won't be able to be a King's guard forever. There are people in the guard who are happy to grow old like this, who consider the barracks their home, the guards their family, the protection of the King their life purpose. But not Daniel.

He's tired.

He has grown disillusioned in the King's justice, knows that while he's not a bad King, he's not a good one either, and he has grown tired of the night shifts, of the stiff beds, of the endless rounds.

He keeps dreaming about a different life. A small house with a garden, maybe a goat. A soft bed. Waking up with the sunrise, going to bed with the sunset, only seeing midnight if he wants to see it. Maybe living off of something he can do that isn't just swinging a blade.

The problem is. The problem is that none of that, not the house, the bed, the goat, would matter without Max. He wants his life with Max.

And he's not sure that, if presented with the choice between Daniel and the guards, Max would choose him.

So this mission would have been maybe one of his last chances to do something with Max. To be out in the world with him, to spend time together, to maybe find the courage to ask him what he would do if Daniel was to quit, if he would stay, if he would follow.

But he got himself stabbed, and now he's laying in a bed, alone and miserable, missing Max more than the situation would probably call for.

The days are slow.

For the first few he's not allowed to get up, and even if his friends come to see him, and the doctor visits him, he spends long hours staring at the wall, ignoring the books someone had brought him, the letters he could be writing, and thinking about Max and his dream goat instead.

His chest aches with how much he misses him, how much he wants.

Max doesn't write.

Daniel wasn't expecting him to, even if he's sure he sent pigeons for the King, wasn't expecting him to ask about Daniel in the official documents, but he's disappointed anyway, heart aching just a little bit more.

As soon as he's allowed to get up, he goes outside.

He knows he's not technically allowed to exert himself, but he needs to move, he needs to breathe, he needs to empty his brain of all these thoughts and just exist for a while. He climbs to the top of the inner walls, regrets it about five times on the way up and seven on the way down. He goes for a walk out towards the hill, having to sit down an embarrassing amount of times on the way there. He goes to the armory, annoys GP into giving him something to do, then to the stables, until even the horses are unsettled by his nervous energy.

Sleeping at night is hard. He misses Max's solid weight on his side, misses his soft warmth on top of his chest even more. He lays awake for hours, unable to turn around as he'd like because his side still fucking hurts, straining his ears to listen for a purr that doesn't exist.

He waits and waits and waits.

The day Max is supposed to come back, he doesn't.

He sends a pigeon ahead, telling the King they are safe, but a flood had forced them to not use the ford the were planning to and directing them to a bridge further away, delaying their travel of a day. GP is the one who tells Daniel, coming back to the armory where Daniel had been cleaning already shining blades, and Daniel gets out and up to the east tower, cursing every single step all the way up.

He sits there until the sun sets and he grows too cold, gritting his teeth as he climbs the stairs back down and avoiding the mess hall, not feeling like talking to anyone.

That night he curls up tight around a small warm body that isn't there, ignoring the pull of the stitches.

The day after he wakes up to the feeling of the blankets being moved.

He snaps his eyes open, cursing himself for letting someone get this close without noticing, already fumbling for the knife he keeps tied to one of the bed legs, when a hand closes around his and he finally registers the voice speaking to him.

"Daniel, Daniel, it's me, it's fine, it's me."

And then finally, finally, he realises it's Max.

For a moment, he feels like his brain freezes.

Max is there, he can see he's there, but it makes no sense. Max is supposed to still be half a day away, and even if he has arrived already, he's supposed to be debriefing with the King. He's not supposed to be here, wearing barely any clothes, slipping into Daniel's bed.

"Max? What?" is all he manages to say, his voice rough.

Max pushes him slightly, still trying to get into bed, but Daniel doesn't move, too surprised and confused to comply.

"I decided to travel all night. The guys weren't happy, but we got here early" Max explains, fidgeting with the corner of the blanket.

"The King?" Daniel asks, still hesitating

"I wrote the report while traveling and left it for him. I'll talk to him later." Max shrugs, then looks up at Daniel, his cheeks red. "I missed you."

And then finally Daniel's brain catches up with the fact that Max is really here, and he realises there are so many better things he could be doing instead of asking Max questions.

Max lets out a surprised squeak when Daniel lunges at him, wrapping his arms around and squeezing him into a hug, burying his face into the familiar slope of his shoulder and breathing him in.

"I missed you too. I missed you so much, Maxy, I missed you," Daniel babbles, feeling Max's arm wrap around his back much more carefully, his hands moving up and down in a soothing motion.

"It was only ten days," Max says, even as he holds Daniel just as tightly.

It feels much more than ten days when they finally kiss. It feels like a month, like way too long. It feels like filling the hole in Daniel's chest, like fixing his lungs, like slowing his brain. It feels like he was the one who was gone too, and is just now coming home.

"I missed you," he says again when they separate, following Max back down on the pillow, letting him rearrange the blankets around them both.

"I missed you too," Max murmurs back, rubbing his nose against Daniel's cheek. "I almost killed George. More than once."

It startles a laugh out of Daniel, which makes Max laughs too, the sounds merging in the little space left between them.

Daniel isn't planning on saying it, but as soon as he stops laughing, he opens his mouth and blurts:

"I missed my kitten too."

He feels Max go rigid, looking at him with wide eyes, his ears red.

And then he softens, a small smile, much shyer than usual, making its way onto his lips.

"Yeah?" he asks, uncertain, as if Daniel would ever lie about it.

Daniel shuffles even closer, tucking Max under his chin, dropping a kiss onto his hair.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "I kept imagining you were here, that I could hear you purr."

Max's hands flex on his back, muscles tensing briefly like they always do when Daniel mentions out loud one of his cat behaviors, before letting go.

"We don't have time now, I don't know when they'll call for me, but..." Max hesitates for a second, fingers twisting into Daniel's sleep shirt, "I missed that too. I..if you would like, later?"

Daniel smiles, kissing Max's hair again.

"I would love to."

They don't fall asleep, but they hold each other close, listening to the quiet for a while. Daniel will ask about Max's journey later, about George and about the mission, and even later he'll get to cuddle with a soft little kitten, but for now he just wants to feel Max's body in his arms.

He thinks about the house, the bed, the goat, and a kitten. Thinks that maybe, when he'll ask, Max will choose him.

[whumpfish]

So, I have been in a very long, very hot shower because I hurt like a bitch, and I think I have narrowed down the basis of my major whump pet peeve, and I'm going to be using my pet fav series Word of Honor to do it.

You cannot survive sustained/chronic/severe pain if you don't develop a relationship with it. The first couple episodes of Word of Honor aren't about Zhou Zishu x Wen Kexing, they're about Zhou Zishu x Zhou Zishu's pain/condition. And that latter relationship continues to evolve and stay at the forefront on a parallel path to the development of the former.

He saddles himself with this thing as penance, because when he makes that decision, he believes that being crippled is "a fate worse than death." And then he goes on living, and discovers that life goes on, so he makes an increasingly-less-guarded peace with it. So when he meets Wen Kexing and Gu Xiang, he's doing his own thing, enjoying the good parts of what remains of his life even though his condition remains at the forefront, and will for the rest of the series. He's integrated it into his life to such an extent that Gu Xiang readily dubs him "Sick Man."*

That's what gets my goat every time: whumpees that aren't allowed to develop a relationship with their pain and are instead thrust into relationships with "caretakers" who don't do much more than provide warm blankets and snuggles and therapy-approved conversation on demand, and be "heartbroken" over how broken and pathetic the whumpee is in their eyes. Because the reality is that the relationship with pain has to be established before any other relationships can go anywhere.

Pain/illness kills relationships. People leave. They just do. It becomes too much of a bother to make changes to their own lives, and they jet.** And it's just you and your pain/condition until you can find the few truly good people who will give you love and reasonable help. You have to develop a relationship with it. It's your new roommate for the rest of your life.

You and your pain are going to be in the wars. You're going to get mad and scream and throw things at it. You're going to resent it for being the only one who's there with you every day. You're going to think about all the shit you can't do anymore, and you'll be frustrated to tears.

But eventually - if you're allowed - you make peace. You stop hating your roommate for holding you back from parties, you just find someone who can drive you home, or stay in with you. You'll find other people who have the same kind of roommate, and then you'll all get along.

And if you are very, very, galactically, fictionally lucky, you find a partner who will help you stand your ground against life and what your roommate pain has made of it. This is what happens in Word of Honor.

Wen Kexing is by no stretch Zhou Zishu's perma-caretaker, or "Caretaker" in the sense that plagues new wave whump. But he cares, and offers what help he can, when he can, without hovering and without kid gloves. He looks for a cure earnestly but without coddling or pitying Zhou Zishu for being a Sick Man. It's a more honest and realistic portrayal of someone ill/disabled and someone not who loves them than I've seen anywhere else.

My relationship with my pain is ongoing and continues to evolve. It takes things from me, but it gives me things, too. My love of whump, the Pain Genre, is one of those things. Whenever my pain spikes like this, my tolerance for fluff in the whump zone plummets, so just know that whenever you get ornery meta from me, my pain and I are sitting around having wine (gingerbeer, can't have wine with the new meds, thanks a lot pain) and bitching.

The reason there's no good chronic pain rep outside of WOH is that characters are not being allowed to develop relationships with their pain, and are only allowed to have relationships with other things and people, and those relationships are inevitably trainwrecks, or insultingly unrealistic and saccharine, because an entire segment of the character's life and personality and identity is being masked or exploited instead of embraced. So let your whumpee have a relationship with their pain/conditions/traumas. Chronic pain/illness havers the world over will thank you.

[sighed-the-snake]

So, about Furfur's angel book. Remember the part about Baraqiel?

Image text: BARAQIEL. Dominion. Angel of the Sky. Appearance: Hair an eye-burning jinnjer. Eyebrows with the appearance of a grisly slug. Often draped in red. Occashunly damp, most likely singed.

I recently got my hands on a copy of A Dictionary of Angels, Including the Fallen Angels, by Gustav Davidson.

And here is the entry for Baraqiel!

Image Text: Barakiel (Barachiel, Barbiel, Barchiel, Barkiel, Baraqiel, etc. -- "lightning of God") -- one of the 7 archangels, one of the 4 ruling seraphim, angel of the month of February, and prince of the 2nd Heaven as well as of the order of confessors. Barakiel has dominion over lightning and is also one of the chief angels of the 1st and 4th altitudes or chora in the Almadel of Solomon. In addition, he is a ruler of the planet Jupiter and the zodiacal sign of Scorpio (as cited by Camfield in A Theological Discourse of Angels) and Pisces. With the angels Uriel and Rubiel, Barakiel is invoked to bring success in games of chance, according to De Plancy, Dictionaire Infernal.[Rf. Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews I, 140.]

Lightning of God We see Crowley let off some lightning while too angry to control himself, and an angel of lightning could easily be considered an angel of the sky.

Archangel Baraqiel We assume Metatron was referring to Satan when he spoke of the Prince of Heaven they lost. Could he have been referring to Crowley? There was a lot of hatred in the look Metatron gave Crowley in the bookshop.

Crowley also told Beelzebub that the whole erasure from the Book of Life thing was something they said just to scare the Cherubs and that it wasn't actually a thing. We think of fat little cupids when Cherubs are mentioned, but Cherub is just the singular of Cherubim, and those guys are just one step below the Seraphim.

And he was teasing them.

Crowley says he understands what Aziraphale is offering him better than his angel does. If he was a Seraphim, then I believe it.

I know Furfur's book places him as a Dominion, but Neil can be an unreliable narrator, and who knows how accurate a demon's book might be. Neil could have also just decided to make Crowley a Dominion instead. Afterall, the angel guarding the Eastern gate in the bible was a Cherubim, but Neil and Terry changed that to Principality when they made Aziraphale.

Also, if Crowley was hanging out with "Lucifer and the guys," that suggests he was a high ranking angel. You're friends with the people you see every day. They were probably his office buddies.

Crowley said in the beginning of S2 that he worked "very closely with upstairs" on his nebula project. Anyone who has worked for a hierarchical business knows that lower order employees aren't even allowed to talk to the higher-ups directly. They would have to submit their issues to their direct supervisor, and that request would go up the chain until it's taken care of, probably never reaching the highest levels of the company. If Crowley was working directly with "upstairs," and his crossed fingers suggest a close collaboration, then he must have been a very high rank to be allowed to talk to them directly.

It is also worth noting that the use of the singular seraph, in the Book of Isaiah, is translated as "flying fiery serpent."

Ruler of the signs Scorpio and Pisces Crowley is hissy and wrathful and WILL CUT YOU, but he also loves children, and turns goats into birds so he doesn't have to kill them, and breathes life back into smooshed doves, so this makes perfect sense to me. Who's our moody little snek, you're our moody little snek.

Invoked to bring success in games of chance We have already seen him outsmart Heaven and Hell with Armageddon. He is uncommonly sharp-witted and capable for a demon, or even an angel. Look at the way he invented regulations for the Rules of Engagement so convincingly that Shax backed down, and how he got Muriel to sneak him into Heaven. I would definitely want an occult force like Crowley-Baraqiel on my side if I was doing something risky.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Quiet on the Path (Male!Witcher x Jaskier)

Hello! can i request a jaskier x witcher male reader?

tw injury mention

"Is he... going to keep following us?"

The bard had dared to hope that Geralt was an outlier when it came to general chattiness among witchers, but apparently he was among the more talky of the breed.

Being nearly speared through the gut by the branches of a leshen had not improved Geralt's dour demeanor. Luckily Geralt was aware they were skirting the general territory of another witcher.

He had not spoken a single word, this other witcher. At first Jaskier assumed they spoke in magic ways, but soon realized the signs they used were not the typical Witcher signs.

Jaskier had found himself thrown bodily from the little cabin this witcher had resided in while he healed Geralt with concoctions and herbal remedies.

Jaskier never thought he'd miss Geralt's gruff and blunt stoicism, but it was better than completely being stonewalled.

In any case, they had left when Geralt was well enough to travel, although he had spotted the silent witcher following them.

"He's an old nanny goat, worse than Vesemir." Geralt rolled his eyes. "He didn't think I was better enough to ride yet. He'll follow us for another fortnight, at least."

"First off, only you could try and make such a giant of a man seem less intimidating by calling him a nanny goat. Second, how in the living hell did you get all that? He hasn't said a word since we arrived!"

Geralt's face bordered on disappointment, and Jaskier felt an unfamiliar twinge of shame. "I thought a bard would be the first to know that words are only one way to communicate ideas."

That week is the most frustrating of Jaskier's life. There are no words spoken, but the conversation, for once, is one that the bard cannot follow. Geralt and his silent companion move their hands almost too quickly to be seen, clearly using a language of signs that Jaskier cannot hope to decipher.

Geralt is more animated than ever, laughing his deep raspy laugh and leaning back in contentment, and Jaskier practically growls at not having the secret of how to get Geralt in this mood revealed to him.

He keeps attempting to catch the silent witcher off guard, to trick him into speaking. He knows he's not deaf, because there was a smirk when he asked a whispered question to Geralt, asking if this witcher was one of his brothers.

But nothing happens, not until Geralt has gone off hunting, and the silent one is left alone with Jaskier as they make camp.

Jaskier can barely abide silence, so he talks as much as he can. He asks questions but doesn't even leave space for answers.

To be honest, it sounds almost as if he's on the verge of a panic attack by the time the witcher's massive hand clamps over his mouth, stifling the flow of words.

"Are you done?" the witcher smirks, and Jaskier shudders at the sound of the voice.

He nods, unable to get any words out.

"I tend not to speak. I use my hands instead. But your... interest. It is... intriguing."

When Geralt returns to camp after the hunt, he's not entirely surprised to find Jaskier pinned down flat as the witcher kisses him.

"Well, that's one way to shut him up." Geralt laughs. The witcher sits up, still straddling Jaskier, placing a hand back over the bard's mouth despite a protest.

I like him. I'm keeping him. he signed.

Geralt only chuckled.