#hoofed kin

[citizenoftmrrwlnd]

fashion for : a gulabi goat with angel themes and a white and gold pallet

bag | socks | shoes | clip on earrings shirt | poncho | shorts | hat

[isaacthebison]

phantom limbs

[devildarlindumbass]

Spontaneous wedding? Sure I love tax benefits

(@kastle-thrones separate post because the other one was LONG and I'd already reblogged))

[curbside-heartthrob]

WHSAT IS HAPPENING .

[theros]

highly recommend thick, puffy cabin socks for anyone with big paws

like sure, they don't really look the same, but the lynx and snow leopard brains are still very happy with how big and round and soft my feet look and feel, and that's really all that matters

[a-cat-in-disguise]

The Last of Us tension is slightly undermined by the horse stood in the background doing the horse equivalent of a casual lean

[my-gf-is-kazuichi-soda]

Miu, Himiko, and Zoey have a very important conversation about My Little Pony, part 1

"Oh! I'm kin with Pinkie Pie!"

"Actually, I'm kin with all the ponies in that show!"

"Even Fluttershy?"

"Duh-doi!"

"YOU are NOT kin with Fluttershy!"

"What?! But I just said I am!"

"You are not Fluttershy! Fluttershy is kind and shy! I don't think you've ever been kind or shy for a day in your life!"

"I've been shy! And I'm totally kind! I give you all a piece of my mind every day! The thoughts from this golden brain are the kindest presents I could ever give the world!"

"Whatever! What the hell would you know, anyway?!"

"I'm actually Fluttershy-kin, and I know for a fact that if Fluttershy met you in real life, she'd be scared of you! And she'd hate you!"

"She would not!"

"If you said anything to her, she'd cry."

"No! She -She wouldn't! That's not true! We'd be best friends! She'd think I was really sweet!"

"Zoey! Zoey will vouch for me!"

Zoey: "Wait, what?!"

"Zoey thinks I'm just like Fluttershy, and that Fluttershy and I would be the best of friends!"

Zoey: "Uhh..."

"Y-yeah! Zoey's the Ultimate Cartoonist, so she's like, the total expert on this matter! And she's been really horny for me lately, practically worships the ground I walk on! Ha ha ha ha! So she'll back me up here!"

Zoey: (I was just being friends with you! Did I mislead Miu into thinking I was... horny for her? (Am I?) ...No, that was her joke. That's her way of saying I've been a loyal friend. Which...yeah! I have! It's nice that she acknowledged it -sort of- and that we've gotten that close.)

"...um..."

Zoey: "Ah....!" (Oh no! It's my turn to speak, and they're both looking at me! What should I say?!)

>Tell Miu that Fluttershy would adore her, while still being respectful to Himiko, at the same time?? (I'll figure it out...)

>Sorry Miu. Himiko be spittin' facts tho.

--

Note: The second option is a joke, and the first option is the "actual" progression. I'll put links to all of three posts on all three posts, so no need to worry about looking manually for these.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Intoxicated.

Pairing: Yandere!Fae King x Reader (OC).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Non/Con -> Dub/Con, AFAB!Reader, Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, Orgasm Denial, and Obsessive Behavior.

[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]

His chambers reeked of honey and lavender.

A stark improvement when compared to the raw stench of sweating bodies and animal fervor that’d hung over the celebrations still raging on in his banquet hall, but strong thick enough to turn your stomach, still choking enough to leave your head spinning, your vision distorted and dark around the edges. A thick, lilac smoke clouded the air, courtesy of the herbs smoldering in jars of stained glass on a nearby windowsill – only adding to your current haziness. It went without saying that none of it, of course, was aided by the clever, slender fingers slowly drawing lazy circles into your clit, the stimulation too much to block out entirely but not nearly enough to bring you any real satisfaction. It was hard to be frustrated, though, when you considered who that stimulation was coming from.

Aisling had positioned himself behind you, propped against the ornate headboard of his almost comically oversized bed. Two long, hoofed legs stretched out on either side of you – flecks of golden pollen still dusted over his dark fur. His chest was bear and cool where it pressed into your back, and his unoccupied hand alternated between wrapping snuggly around your midriff and prying your thighs apart when they attempted in-vain to shut. His touch, like most other things about him, left much to be desired. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent here, how much time had passed since he carried you out of those wretched rituals his kind called revelries, but couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes, even if it felt like a small eternity lapsed by every time you let your eyes droop shut. He prided himself on his adeptness in all things frivolous and pleasurable, and you couldn’t imagine him taking this long to bring you to climax.

“I’ve grown quite fond of your meekness, you know.” His voice was a deep rumble, less a string of words and more a prolonged, inflected purr. Cold lips ghosted over the curve of your ear, and his fingers found a new pattern; one with enough force behind to it make your head lull forward, a slight whimper slipping past your grit teeth as the loose knot in your core began to tighten. “At first, it was rather irking to realize I would never be able to make love to you under the light of the full moon to the accompaniment of my finest bards, but I think I’ve come to like how—” A quirk of his wrist, a strange crescent-like motion. You withered against him, your hips bucking stiltedly into his hand. “—reserved your kin tend to be. It feels more intimate, locking ourselves away like this. Like we share a common secret.”

That fucking smell. The sickening sweetness of it seemed to claw and tear at your lungs, to lodge itself in the hollows of your skull and send a warm, steady pulsing down the length of your spine with every slight movement of Aisling’s fingers. You let your eyes fall shut, your hands kneading at the silk of his sheets as the knot sitting in your core coiled ever-tighter, as you came so, so close to that—

As Aisling pulled away, his touch skirting over the inside of your thigh before forcing two fingers into the dripping entrance of your cunt. You couldn’t bite back the fractured whine that bubbled past your lips, arching your back as he spread and curled his digits inside of you. “Still,” he went on, sighing in mock-disappointment. “I feel like our relationship has been far from reciprocal, as of late. I do adore taking care of you, and I don’t mean to sound unthankful, but—” Another pause, another sigh. “I am beloved to all folks of the land and air, worshiped by the valleys and mountains alike, and dearest to all beings with the wisdom necessary to appreciate true beauty. Why is it that the one I cherish most so evidently detests my very existence?”

“Be—” A broken moan cut you off, draw out by a particular scissoring motion of his fingers. It was a fight to find your voice again. “Because you’re a fucking prick.”

“Your honeyed praises will have to wait, for now.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, but the friction was too soft, too half-hearted to do anything. His lilac smoke seemed to claw its way down your throat and dislodge a pathetic string of whimpers and mewls, filling the new vacancy with a sort of… a sort of liquid heat, strong enough to leave you panting and hot enough to have you squirming against him, eager to get that much closer to his frigid body. Your desperation earned a melodic laugh from Aisling, a tender nuzzling of his cheek against yours. “Oh? Do you have something you’d like to ask for, little fawn?”

He forced a third finger into your terribly empty cunt, and something inside of you seemed to break open. “Please, Aisling, I—” You paused, gasped as his fingers curved against the clenching walls of your pussy. “I need to cum. I can’t take another—”

Whatever you might’ve said dissolved into a broken, pained moan as he drew back entirely, his slick-stained hand moving to your chin and tilting your head back, his lips finding your own before your shock could fade into hurt. Pointed, cat-like fangs burrowed into your bottom lip as his rough tongue laved over your own, the gesture less of a kiss and more of an attempt to permanently attach a part of him to a part of you. His taste was one of fresh fruit and sugared cream, and by the time he pulled away, you were panting, heaving, clambering to stay as close as him as you possibly could, to get as much from him as you possible could. Aisling only laughed as you rushed to straddle him, taking your face in both hands and pulling you into another long, lingering kiss – his mouth just as sweet as his poisons.

“Such a beautiful song,” he muttered, pulling back far enough to speak, but not leaving quite enough distance to disguise the crooked smile spread across his lips.

“Perhaps, by the time we’re finished, you’ll love me enough to deserve to.”

[city-of-ladies]

Genmei (661-721) was Japan's fourth empress regnant. She was Empress Jitō's half-sister and her match in terms of ambition and political skills. Her rule was characterized by a development of culture and innovations. 

Ruling after her son

Like Jitō (645-703), Genmei was the daughter of Emperor Tenji but was born from a different mother. Jitō was both her half-sister and mother-in-law since Genmei had married the empress’ son, Prince Kusakabe (662-689). She had a son with him, Emperor Monmu (683-707). 

Kusakabe died early and never reigned, which led to Jitō's enthronement. The empress was then succeeded by her grandson Monmu. The latter’s reign was short. In his last will, he called for his mother to succeed him in accordance with the “immutable law” of her father Tenji. Genmei accepted. 

Steadfast and ambitious 

Genmei was made from the same mold as her half-sister. She proved to be a fearless sovereign, undeterred by military crises. 

She pursued Jitō's policies, strengthening the central administration and keeping the power in imperial hands. Among her decisions were the proscription of runaway peasants and the restriction of private ownership of mountain and field properties by the nobility and Buddhist temples. 

Another of her achievements was transferring the capital at Heijō-kyō (Nara) in 710, turning it into an unprecedented cultural and political center. Her rule saw many innovations. Among them were the first attempt to replace the barter system with the Wadō copper coins, new techniques for making brocade twills and dyeing and the settlement of experimental dairy farmers.

A protector of culture

Genmei sponsored many cultural projects. The first was the Kojiki, written in 712 it told Japan’s history from mythological origins to the current rulers. In its preface, the editor Ō no Yasumaro praised the empress:

“Her Imperial Majesty…illumines the univers…Ruling in the Purple Pavillion, her virtue extends to the limit of the horses’ hoof-prints…It must be saif that her fame is greater than that of Emperor Yü and her virtue surpasses that of Emperor Tang (legendary emperors of China)”.

In 713, she ordered the local governments to collect local legends and oral traditions as well as information about the soil, weather, products and geological and zoological features. Those local gazetteers (Fudoki) were an invaluable source of Japan’s ancient tradition.

Several of Genmei’s poems are included in the Man'yōshū anthology, including a reply by one of the court ladies. 

Listen to the sounds of the warriors' elbow-guards;

Our captain must be ranging the shields to drill the troops.

– Genmei Tennō

Reply:

Be not concerned, O my Sovereign;

Am I not here,

I, whom the ancestral gods endowed with life,

Next of kin to yourself

– Minabe-hime

From mother to daughter 

Genmei abdicated in 715 and passed the throne to her daughter, empress Genshō (680-748) instead of her sickly grandson prince Obito. This was an unprecedented situation, making the Nara period the pinnacle of female monarchy in Japan. 

Genmei would oversee state affairs until she died in 721. Before her death, she shaved her head and became a nun, becoming the first Japanese monarch to take Buddhist vows and establishing a long tradition.

Feel free to check out my Ko-Fi if you like what I do! Your support would be greatly appreciated.

Further reading

Shillony Ben-Ami, Enigma of the Emperors Sacred Subservience in Japanese History

Tsurumi Patricia E., “Japan’s early female emperors”

Aoki Michiko Y., "Jitō Tennō, the female sovereign",in: Mulhern Chieko Irie (ed.), Heroic with grace legendary women of Japan

[cyber-therian]

“ Throw the dog a bone .. “ 🦴

NON-TRAUMAGENIC SYSTEMS DNI **

🐾 PRONOUNS.CC || MY USERBOXES

BOUNDARIES || STIMBOARD || F2U

🦮 He/Him Hy/Hym

🪶 17y/o | System

🐾 Psychological Therian

🦮 All my theriotypes are male salmacians which is very important to my identity

🪶 Alterhuman Flag Hoard

Theriotypes:

Silver (Red) Fox — 🦊

questioning: lioness, archaeopteryx, mallard

Other -types:

Medieval Knight — Archetrope/OCkin

Big-Cat Hearted — Otherhearted 🐅

Caribou, canine(clado) — Synpath 🪄

Hoofed mammals — Questioning 🐎

Western Dragon — Copinglink 🐉

Hearthome:

Middle Ages/Medieval Times 🏰

The Arctic ❄️

The Jungle 🐅

I look like:

Since my profile has seemingly breached containment, here is my new DNI:

(pro) endo/tulpa/etc systems, transID, anti (self) recovery, gore/sh/ed/etc accs (or if one is linked/connected to your acc), TCC and similar, nazis, zionists, racists, “edgy” accounts, truscum, if you hate children, neopronoun/queer identity mockers, r_dqueers, pr_ship, z_o/p_do/etc including in recovery unless you dont post about it

That being said:

🦮 Due to delusions, I will not follow back blogs that have content majorly of being divinekin; absolutely nothing against these individuals however.

🦮 I will not follow, and I usually block, blogs whose theme has little-to-no contrast between the background & font colors.

I don’t usually fb:

⭐️ fandom accs that im not part of

⭐️ accs without a pinned/etc

⭐️ helluva, hazbin, dsmp kins

**Please be aware that I do not support non-traumagenic systems OR tulpas. DNI if you believe “sysmed” is real. Supporters of such ideas please also DNI. Please also be aware that I do not hate or dislike these folks, but this is a preference of mine and I would strongly prefer it be respected.

My Tags: (feel free to block any)

#🪻⋮ off-topic : off-topic posts

#fox’s prey : depictions of hunting/killing/eating prey. may include images (only as graphic as a wildlife documentary. no roadkill.)

#🐾 ⋮ fox’s rbs : reblogs

#🫐 ⋮ trinkets for the fox : gifts & posts i requested

#🌘 ⋮ friends : plushie posts

#🦊 ⋮ Cy talks too much : long posts

#🌈 ⋮ memories : things from a life i want but dont have

#fox likes medieval content : medieval posts that i enjoy

Accounts:

My main: @foxless (reblogs)

Agere: @boy-kid (agere petre)

Stims: @den-stims

pfp: https://www.inaturalist.org/observations/184346855

[notthesomefather]

Loki's Journey to Hel

[[A story I wrote for a Halloween ritual.]]

It was a hallowed evening and all gods and men had partaken in revelries.  It had been a day of celebrating life and vibrance in Asgard and Midgard alike, yet an ill-humor had befallen the quick-footed Trickster, Loki. 

“It is a sorrowful man, he who welcomes Death,” one God had remarked during the festivities. “Not I to welcome that cold, hungry abyss.”

This aroused the Sly One’s temper.  “My daughter’s halls are as fair as these you call home,” Loki declared.  “If I bring you three gifts from Helheim, you must admit I am correct.”

“Ah, and what use have we for gifts such as this?” they replied.  “What need have we of rot and bone, when the shimmer of vitality here beams so brightly?”

“No morbid gifts will I bring,” Loki promised.  “But they will be such gifts as you have never seen before, not even among all your splendor.”

And so the bet was on.  

Once the lights had been extinguished and the sounds of mirth subsided into gentle snores, Loki began his work.  Loki approached the stables of Odin, wherein slept their child, the Eight-Hoofed Sleipnir.  

“Only you may carry me swiftly between this realm and Helheim,” Loki whispered, “I pray you be swift.  We must return before first light.”

And so they began their journey towards Helheim.  The wind blew more timidly, the stars shown more sparsely, and Loki’s very breath and heartbeat seemed to quiet until only Nothing remained.  On they went through the black stillness until a voice called out.

“Who is he that would enter our hall?” 

“One who would carry on your memory to the gods themselves,” Loki replied.

Before Loki’s eyes a geist appeared, fair of face and steady of speech.  “My memory has long since been lost,” he said forlornly.  “I would appreciate my name being welcomed into the ears of the gods.  What ask you in return?”

“Why, a handshake to seal the agreement,” Loki said.  “Nothing more.”

“It is done.”  The geist told Loki his name, shook the Silver-Tongued one’s hand, and vanished in peace.

Loki and Sleipnir continued on their trek to Helheim.  The blackness had begun to subside into a mist, and the air felt warmer.  On they went through the grey stillness until a voice called out.

“Who is he that would enter our hall?” 

“One who would carry on your memory to the gods themselves,” Loki replied.  Before Loki’s eyes a geist appeared, dark of face and gentle of speech.  

“I have no family left to utter my name,” the geist murmured.  “It would be heartening indeed to hear it from the tongues of gods.  What ask you in return?”

“Why, a dance to seal the agreement,” Loki said.  “Nothing more.”

“It is done.”  The geist took Loki’s hand and they danced upon the air and ground until a sigh of contentment filled the void, and the geist vanished in peace.

And so the Mischief-Maker and his steed rode on until the mist subsided and the air awoke with smells of jasmine, apple blossoms, and grass.  Loki approached a mighty gate until a voice cried out.

“Who is he that would enter my hall?” 

“One who would carry on your glory to the gods themselves,” Loki replied.

There was silence until the Lady of Terrible Beauty herself appeared at the gate.  She stood before her realm yet would not permit her father to come any closer.

“The gods have oft compared my hall to a punishment,” Hel said.  “It would make my heart glad to have them know the truth.  That I welcome all into my hall who have been allowed the gift of rest and calm.  Famine and hunger!  What famine are you to find in my orchards?  What hunger will you see when reunited families and friends toast one another at my tables?  We host those who have come before just as nobly and comfortably as my kin who rule Valhalla and Fólkvangr, this they must know.”

“They shall know it,” Loki promised.

“What ask you in return, Father?”

“Why, a happy sigh to seal the agreement,” Loki said.  “Nothing more.”

And it was so that his daughter smiled and sighed and the two parted ways once more.  Loki and Sleipnir rode back before dawn and found some of the gods still stirring.

“Well?” asked one.  “Have you made it to Helheim?  Have you seen the dullness of Death?”

“On the contrary,” the Silver-Tongued replied.  “It is as I said: the grandeur of Helheim matches that of these halls in Asgard.  Beauty and peace and joy can be found there as much as anywhere else in the nine realms.”

“We don’t admit it so!” cried the gods.

“Then may I remind you of our bargain, dear family,” Loki said.  “Our agreement was that I shall present you with three gifts, the likes of which you’ve never seen, and you shall concede I am right.”

“Let’s have these gifts then,” the gods demanded.

“My first gift is the handshake of a dead man,” Loki said, extending a hand into the air before him.  “My second gift is the footfall of a dead man,” Loki said, extending a foot into the air before him.  “And my third gift is the breath of the dead,” Loki said, blowing into the air before him.  “These three gifts I have brought you, and so you must agree.”

“Tricks and lies!” the gods bellowed.  “You have brought us nothing!”

“I have brought you three things you have never seen.  The fact you don’t see them now either is no matter to our agreement.”

The gods begrudgingly admitted that Loki had won the bet.  Loki spoke the names and tales of the geists he met on his travels, and relayed his daughter’s pleas for understanding.  And so it was that the forgotten were remembered and the reputation of Helheim was seen with more fairness by gods and men alike.

[isaacthebison]

I saw people making some cute collages and wanted to try :3

[hisuian-history-makers]

Lamb/New Player, after having chosen Very Hard mode and repeatedly dying to the enemies on crusades, coming back to starving followers who keep pooping everywhere: ….

That’s it!

Their two remaining followers: ???

Lamb: I’m summoning Big Sis!

*The followers watch the very young sheep, really a Lamb, cut their own hand (hoof) then chant something as they bleed.*

Narinder, watching from the Death Realm as the vessel does a ritual he hasn’t taught them: ‘Big Sis? Is the little Lamb trying to resurrect their slain kin? They don’t have enough devo—‘

*The blood forms a shadow in the shape of the Lamb, then rises up to reveal—a goat? They have black fur, a purple cape, and a crown all too similar to the Lamb’s except purple.*

Followers: …what?

Narinder: ‘What?!’

*Lamb walked up and nearly headbutted the Goat’s stomach, letting out a muffled groan.*

Goat/“Big Sis”: Harder than you thought, huh?

Lamb, muffled: …mmmyes…

G/BS: I told you not to start on Very Hard mode! *The Goat looks around at the mess that is the Lamb’s base camp.* But, nope—you just had to beat my first run in medium mode.

Follower 1: Who’s this???

Follower 2: The Lamb’s sister, I guess?

Lamb: They’re dumb, they are so dumb when I’m not around.

Goat: Yeaaaaah. That doesn’t go away in Hard, Medium, or Easy mode.

*The Lamb and the Goat walk a bit away.*

Goat: There’s this setting—*makes vague motions in the air, to the followers*—here that makes it so time doesn’t pass on crusades. You won’t get any devotion while you’re gone, but they won’t starve either. Till you unlock the outhouse, you will have to clean up their poop.

Lamb: Isn’t that cheating?

Goat: This is your first time playing and you’re struggling. The game’s supposed to be fun. Plus, the devs wouldn’t put it in to not be used.

———————————————————————

[Note. I haven’t played Cult of the Lamb.]

[ask-healthy-light]

Fortunately, the monotony of the Eastern Dragon Lands had not yet exhausted their sight, so as soon as Boom and Nox saw what Shining was pointing at, they dropped to the ground, before Boom whispered to himself that something did not make sense; but in response, Shining swiftly placed his hoof over Boom's mouth, and did not utter another word as the group of Marauders in the distance walked past.

Only after the surprisingly loud group of various races had wandered out of sight, and did not show up again, did their own group feel comfortable enough to start moving backwards, aided by Ty, as he conjured up a gentle breeze to mask their scuffling across the ground; and when their own group had made it beyond the crest of the hill did Boom say he did not understand how they could be so close.

When prompted to explain, albeit quietly, by the rest of the group, he told them that the Marauders who struck the Empire wore light armour to get away quickly and undetected after an attack; but the group of Guards they saw just now was wholly unlike them, as their weapons were great, their armour was thick, and their shields broad, almost exactly like the Crystal Guards under orders of Shining.

Next to this, he continued, just like the Guards back in the Empire, the group that they saw in the distance would have been tasked to wander close to their Outpost in case of an attack, even if such a thing was unlikely to happen this far into the uncharted East; but even if their group was on the very edge of the perimeter they guarded, it would mean the Outpost was far closer than he expected.

At that moment, Light, holding the map in their hoof, spoke up to ask Boom about the map, and where and when he found it in particular, for when they first looked at the map, they could tell it was a very old map; so they politely suggested that the Outpost had moved elsewhere since he last checked the map, which would work in their favour, as their travel time had now been drastically shortened.

Before he could utter a word, though, Courage quietly whined as he slowly walked over to Light, and pawed at the map, before he started drawing tally marks into the dirt before him; but even after he drew more sets of lines than what any of the others guessed his age was, he did not stop until Boom sighed, and told him that he could have said so himself, and that he did not need to embarrass him.

The map was, indeed, quite old, and he counted himself lucky that it had barely gotten damaged over all the years it was in his possession, after the last time he tried to attack the Outpost, only to be forced to flee with far less than with what he arrived; but he was fortunate that out of all the Marauders he had knocked unconscious, or worse, that one of them carried a set of maps of the area.

Admittedly, Boom continued, he probably should not have thrown away most of the maps that he was so graciously given by the Guard he held up, but that aside, knowing that the Outpost was a lot closer than he thought was a great relief; for they could take more time to search the area for a way into the Outpost, lest a group of Guards find them and attack before they even got the chance to strike.

With a deep sigh, Light nodded, before they peeked over the crest and looked at the dry chasm where the Guards were walking, trying to figure out why these Marauders would not relocate somewhere more bountiful; for surely, there must be at least a couple of beings among them whose greatest wish was to return to their kin, create a better life for themselves, and neither plunder nor harm any more?

A moment later, however, they struck down the thought, for if these bandits were indeed of the same tribe that had ransacked Boom's home so long ago, and were still doing the same thing, they figured that the lives imprinted so thoroughly, it would be hard to undo; but even as they returned the map to Boom, who seemed to be doing far better, Light could not shake a painful feeling in their heart.

To stop the bloodshed, they would have to cause it themselves…

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Nox Lunarwing and Summer Typhoon from @nox-lunarwing Boomlord from @thedumbguywithaheart43

(Updates on my new contract: It doesn't have a set end date, so it's technically permanent, and it will be changed back to 40 hours a week, starting in the new year.)

(I think I'll keep the current rhythm I have with two days of working from home per week, as it'll allow me to write one part of the Tumblr story, and with the freedom that the other writing program gives me, I might even be able to write and post a new chapter on FimFic during the weekend too.)

[o-craven-canto]

  Evolution Langdon Smith (1858-1908)

When you were a tadpole and I was a fish   In the Paleozoic time, And side by side on the ebbing tide   We sprawled through the ooze and slime, Or skittered with many a caudal flip   Through the depths of the Cambrian fen, My heart was rife with the joy of life,   For I loved you even then. Mindless we lived and mindless we loved   And mindless at last we died; And deep in the rift of the Caradoc drift   We slumbered side by side. The world turned on in the lathe of time,   The hot lands heaved amain, Till we caught our breath from the womb of death   And crept into life again. We were amphibians, scaled and tailed,   And drab as a dead man's hand; We coiled at ease 'neath the dripping trees   Or trailed through the mud and sand. Croaking and blind, with our three-clawed feet   Writing a language dumb, With never a spark in the empty dark   To hint at a life to come. Yet happy we lived and happy we loved,   And happy we died once more; Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold   Of a Neocomian shore. The eons came and the eons fled   And the sleep that wrapped us fast Was riven away in a newer day   And the night of death was passed. Then light and swift through the jungle trees   We swung in our airy flights, Or breathed in the balms of the fronded palms   In the hush of the moonless nights; And oh! what beautiful years were there   When our hearts clung each to each; When life was filled and our senses thrilled   In the first faint dawn of speech. Thus life by life and love by love   We passed through the cycles strange, And breath by breath and death by death   We followed the chain of change. Till there came a time in the law of life   When over the nursing sod The shadows broke and the soul awoke   In a strange, dim dream of God. I was thewed like an Auroch bull   And tusked like the great cave bear; And you, my sweet, from head to feet   Were gowned in your glorious hair. Deep in the gloom of a fireless cave,   When the night fell o'er the plain And the moon hung red o'er the river bed   We mumbled the bones of the slain. I flaked a flint to a cutting edge   And shaped it with brutish craft; I broke a shank from the woodland lank   And fitted it, head and haft; Than I hid me close to the reedy tarn,   Where the mammoth came to drink; Through the brawn and bone I drove the stone   And slew him upon the brink. Loud I howled through the moonlit wastes,   Loud answered our kith and kin; From west to east to the crimson feast   The clan came tramping in. O'er joint and gristle and padded hoof   We fought and clawed and tore, And cheek by jowl with many a growl   We talked the marvel o'er. I carved that fight on a reindeer bone   With rude and hairy hand; I pictured his fall on the cavern wall   That men might understand. For we lived by blood and the right of might   Ere human laws were drawn, And the age of sin did not begin   Til our brutal tusks were gone. And that was a million years ago   In a time that no man knows; Yet here tonight in the mellow light   We sit at Delmonico's. Your eyes are deep as the Devon springs,   Your hair is dark as jet, Your years are few, your life is new,   Your soul untried, and yet -- Our trail is on the Kimmeridge clay   And the scarp of the Purbeck flags; We have left our bones in the Bagshot stones   And deep in the Coralline crags; Our love is old, our lives are old,   And death shall come amain; Should it come today, what man may say   We shall not live again? God wrought our souls from the Tremadoc beds   And furnish’d them wings to fly; He sowed our spawn in the world's dim dawn,   And I know that it shall not die, Though cities have sprung above the graves   Where the crook-bone men made war And the ox-wain creaks o'er the buried caves   Where the mummied mammoths are. Then as we linger at luncheon here   O'er many a dainty dish, Let us drink anew to the time when you   Were a tadpole and I was a fish.

[meirimerens]

*runs up to you* thoughts on burakhovsky marriage? 🎤🎤🎤

Honey if you knew!!!! I'll try to make it quick because I'm making sims so typing over my laptop put on front of my keyboard (complicated). Actually let me do Wedding. Marriage is them exactly the same but post-that. And sleeping in the same bed under boddhos hospices but hopefully not her watchful eye.

Tldr yes. dankovsky has been 🙄🙄 about marriage his whole life out of the feeling of religious alienation for being gay + generally a contrarian + able to recognize the misogyny inherent to marriage as a religious institution which made him go [before he knew he was gay] well if I met a woman I wouldn't want to marry her that's cruel [literally doesn't matter he's gay]  + generally a liker of freedom inclined to dislike institutions. But also he never had an actual relationship before so his ass didn't care before. And also by virtue of being a marriage between two men, the religious (and tbf secular societal) misogyny of the woman being "passed down" from the father's to the husband's "property" to go from domestic labor in her parents house to domestic sexual and reproductive labor in her husbands Literally doesn't apply to them because gay wedding.

I think his mom is overjoyed at marrige she always wanted him to have a nice wedding so she's very happy. she's a bit nervous because he's marrying in a culture she doesn't know much about (and vice-versa for burakh tbf) and she's ankchus at how ceremony will go.

Dankovskys side of fhe family brings to the ceremony Armenian [mothers side] & Georgian [dads] traditions [not listing bc making it short so I can.go back to my sims] also dankovsky in chokha please. ooooh please. for his weddig day.

they need A Bunch of meetings with wardens and the brides (all that participate in the ceremony) to adjust the usual wedding traditions to like. two guys. esp. for the Kin traditions as motherhood - birth - rebirth are very important within that culture and like Not Happening Here Sorry. so a bunch of bits and pieces are rearranged, I'd imagine like blessings for the bride for beautiful children and safe childbirth are scraped and everyone is scratching their heads at what to replace them with [they end up finding its fine]. while it's not the first time the Kin has an out gay couple among them [duh] it's the first time its a Warden son of Menkhu and they have to make a big deal out of it. Methinks ceremony includes painting sigils on each others wrists and the herb brides bricker with Oyun like "oh my god you can keep that one it doubles as a potency charm" and burakh and dankovsky sitting there are just boiling inside [I drew an image of it once I did I did]

also dankovskys mom insists burakh and those who can stand in as family come drink the tea with them and share his intention to ask for her sons hand in marriage [even after having asked dankovsky + neither of them care about parents permission, it's exclusively to please dankovskys family esp his mam who's taking that from lhosk-arnel tradition]

Ceremony also includes stepping out to the steppe for private vows while the assembly turns around and coming back. then usually groom carries brides on a beautiful bull he'd have tame to the bridal house (typically honeymoon destination). dankovsky has to explain to his father who already struggled with him being gay earlier on in his life that "I'm not sitting on the bull because I'm the woman of the relationship, I'm sitting on the bull because I'm scared of it and it could crush my foot under its hoof" and his dad kind of looks at him a little fearful.

mom brings honeycakes. rubin burakhs best man/whatever they're called, peter is dankovsky, and he keeps making big wet eyes at rubin the whole ceremony (watch out)