#lamb and my sister play...i want to learn for them......

[sukunasstarlight]

tempted to get rdr2 for my birthday...

#lamb and my sister play...i want to learn for them...... #plus arthur <33333 arthurrrrr<33333333 #but i’m pining for the aot 2 game....the oc maker....i yearn to fufil 15 year old me’s selfship w/jean..... #shouting in the void

[eraenaa]

A Bastard's Bride, A Dragon's Desire

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen Princess Reader AU

Synopsis: They have betrothed you to Jacaerys as a way of securing a line to the throne if they fail in usurping your half-sister’s crown. Your older brother Aemond was livid at the decision.

Warnings: Targcest, Mature, 18+, Submissive Aemond (kinda), Oral Sex (M receiving), Boobjob, P in V Sex, Jealousy, Possessive, not proofread

Word Count: 4,327

“This cannot go! You dare betrothed my sister to a bastard!?” Aemond screamed at your grandfather and mother. Never have you seen him so angry and agitated. His lilac eye was wide in fury, his frame rigid in rage. You did not wish for the betrothal, but you did not have the same anger that Aemond showed. Screaming and spewing foul words as if he was the one being sent as a bride for the plain prince. “My prince— you will learn to hold your tongue.” Your grandfather warned. “We understand your qualms upon the match; believe it or not, we do not wish for it. But it is a marriage that must be made.” Your grandfather sighed, his eyes going to you, who had your head downcast, ready to silently meet your fate.

You peeked a look at Aemond, heart swelling at how protective your brother was. How he would defend and voice out the concerns and fears because you did not have the courage to. You tried to reach for his hand under the table; your touch always seemed to calm him, but he was in a state of utter anger— rage at a level he had never reached before. His vision was white hot at the injustice he believed to be presented— injustice greater than when his eye was taken. For how could they be so cruel to betroth you, his sweet, smart, and enchanting little sister, to a plain and weak bastard of House Strong? “I will not stand by this union,” Aemond seethed and stood from his chair. “With all due respect, my prince, you have no say nor sway upon the marriage— complain and rage as you would; you will not change the plans made. You swallowed thickly as Aemond marched out of the chambers of the council, your mother heavily sighing at the reaction of your older brother—his reaction to your betrothal confirmed her suspicions. 

You walked to your chambers and were slightly startled to see your older brother there. Staring intently at the fire, waiting for you. “They cannot do this— they cannot be allowed to dict—“ You sighed and shook your head, sitting upon a settee and bringing a pillow to your lap. “They have the power to— I have no choice but to do as they wish,” You answered. You knew of this— you always knew you were to be played like a pawn, sold like a sheep in order for them to have a greater claim to the throne. You’ve expected this for years— you have made your peace with it. 

Aemond turned to you, his eye dark and terrifying. “Why are you not angered? Why do you only obey without even a question?” He asked, threading closer to you. “Tell me, sister… do you wish to marry Jacaerys? Is that why you said no word when they made their plans known? Hm? Are you ecstatic at the thought of being a bastard’s bride?” Your lips agape at his words— at his anger that he now pointed towards you. 

“Grandfather was right— you must learn to hold your tongue.” You whispered. “You dare insult me, brother? You dare try to dress my quiet contempt as ecstasy in being a lamb for slaughter so they can continue on with their plans,” You whispered harshly as his face threaded closer to yours. His lilac eye softened and started to fill with remorse, but you shook your head, disheartened by the words he uttered. “Get out,” You said and stood, not wanting to face him any longer. Growing hurt at your brother for thinking as such. “Sister, I—“ he tried to get hold of your arm, but you stepped away. “Leave— I wish to be alone,” You muttered, hearing him sigh before doing as you asked. 

The following day, you confined yourself to your rooms. Ignoring the knocks of your maids, sister, mother, Aegon, and Aemond, who was the most persistent of them all. Trying to bribe you with sweets freshly made from the kitchen and then the promise of jewels and dresses that your heart was completely bemused with. You ignored all their calls and focused on the betrothal made. Trying hard to have a better outlook upon it— trying to find the little positives so you would not be so completely miserable with the marriage. “Ñuha hāedar, you must eat— please.” (My little sister) You hear Aemond call; it is time for supper, and you have not consumed a meal the entire day. He called your name once more, but you ignored it, simply staring out of the window to the starry night sky.  

“I swear to the gods I will break down this door!” Aemond gritted out— trying a new tactic because his pleading got him no reaction. The prince sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, growing tired of your stubbornness. He regretted raising his voice at you— wrongfully pointing his anger at you, who was simply a victim of their desire to ensure a line of power. He could not bear it— he could not have another thing taken from him by the Strongs. He already lost his eye to Lucerys— he’d rather burn the entire Kingdom than have to lose you to Jacaerys. 

Aemond sighed in relief as he heard you unbar the door, slowly opening it to reveal your sullen self. “The cake,” Was all you said through the little gap. Aemond bit his lip and handed you the platter that held your favorite sweet. He was to speak once more, offer his apologies but you were quick to shut the door and bar it again. 

The next day, you were finally forced out of your chambers. Your mother was persistent in readying you to meet your future betrothed. Having you fitted for new dresses as if you were a doll. You used to love that— you used to love spending hours discussing your visions and specificity for your dresses. You did not mind having to stand for hours whilst they took your measurements— you would even volunteer to embroider your own dress, but now the task seemed heavy. 

Aemond watched you as you were being spoken to about the plans they had made when your bastard kin was to come. He watched your sullen eyes, your deflated shoulders, your pouted lips. The rage in him started to return; he hated witnessing you be in such a state. He believed that you do not deserve to be given such a cruel fate. He believed that you deserve someone better—someone who was not a plain bastard. You deserved someone honorable and were of high standing. You deserved someone who would adore you, dote on you, spoil you, love you— you deserved to be with someone like him. Aemond clenched his jaw as you sighed heavily; your mother had ignored his wishes and pleas.

His mind was made long before. He knew he loved you more than the love a brother and sister shared. He loved you in the way of your house, in the way of a dragon— queer it must be in the eyes of the others, but he did not care; he loved you as a man would love his woman. But he was silent with his love, fearing you would not return it. Yes, he felt that you loved him, but he believed it only to be a familial kind— that it was not the same as the burning passion he had in his heart. 

Aemond lay on his bed, mind swimming in thoughts on how to save you. On how to make you his. It did occur to him that to make you his, he would have to admit the deep feelings he had and was certain of ever since he was but nine. That he would have to confess his devotion to you, his sweet little sister. He hears a small knock on his door, and he immediately knows it is you. The prince did not even stand, simply muttering for you to enter. No word was uttered as you closed the door and walked to him, who lay on his bed. Your brother was to sit up, but you moved to lay atop his chest— just like you often did in childhood. You wanted comfort, and your brother Aemond is always and you believe will forever be your greatest comfort. 

Aemond froze as you placed yourself atop him, letting your body press against his, your arms wrapping around his neck. You two did this often in childhood; whenever you felt glum or melancholic, you would place yourself atop him, and he would wrap his arms tightly around you. But as the both of you blossomed and grew into man and woman, you stopped doing such actions— growing weary and aware of your bodies. 

Aemond wrapped his arms around your waist. You were so warm and soft and plush. Your frame fitted perfectly against his— just like it always has. “I do not wish to marry him,” You mumble against his letter-clad chest, taking a deep breath to smell his scent: leather and citrus. “I know,” He mumbled against the top of your head. Aemond taking a deep breath of you— lavender and lilac invading him. 

“Perhaps I should flee…” you mused after a stretch of silence. “And go where?” Aemond asked. “I do not know… maybe Essos? I’ve always wanted to see YiTi, or I could go and find Old Valyria? Anywhere but here.” You sighed as Aemond ran his hand through your hair. Your body tingled with every stroke his hand made. “You would leave me?” He asked, and you shook your head. “No, you would come with me, of course.” Aemond smiled at your words. “Of course,” He agreed and placed a kiss atop your pretty head. You stayed in Aemond’s arms for hours— drifting off to slumber. Aemond stayed awake, wanting to savor the feeling of having you in his arms, indulging himself with the thought that you were his. 

However, as time went on and you were starting to wake, Aemond’s heart clenched at the thought of letting you go. Right then and there, he had decided. He decided to do what he never had the courage to do… he had to claim you and make it known to everyone that you were his and his alone. 

The scowl never left Aemond’s face as he and Helaena were tasked to escort you and Jacaerys. Having to watch you grow familiar with the boy they intend for you to marry made his heart wrench in jealousy— his stomach pitting in fear as he saw a small smile on your lips. Aemond resisted the urge to throw a dagger at his eldest bastard nephew when he dared take your hand to escort you down the steps of the courtyard. “You’re growing too obvious, brother,” Helaena muttered as she watched you acclimate yourself to the presence of the Strong Prince. “I do not care— let them know my intentions,” Aemond answered, holding tightly at the railing as he saw the enchantment in Jacaerys’ eyes as he spoke with you, body daring thread closer to yours. “I’m afraid there is not much you could do… they are to be bounded by blood,” Aemond shook his head, stubborn and unaccepting of their fates. 

When evening came, and supper was held for the whole of the family, Aemond stewed in anger as your place next to him was removed— moving your place to sit with your soon-to-be-announced betrothed. You took in a breath as Jacaerys took hold of your hand, a smile on his lips. But you could not focus on the joy he showed because you saw clearly the scowl on your brother’s. His hand tightly clenched around a dinner knife, his eye steady on you. 

“This is torture for you, isn’t it,” Aegon muttered to his younger brother. His eye held a spark of amusement at Aemond’s ire— but there was a tinge of concern at the uncertain look in your eyes as Jacaerys kept his hold on your hand. “Return to your seat,” Aemond gritted but Aegon kept still at his spot. “You’ve waited too long, brother… you must take matters into your own hands before it truly is all too late,” He advised. Aemond closed his eye at the temptation his brother’s words presented. “As much as I like to watch you suffer… control yourself and painfully deny yourself of pleasure— I’d rather have our little sister here with you than be with a bastard in Dragonstone.” 

Aemond gritted his jaw. “Enough, Aegon— what you suggest will not only dishonor me but our sister as well. You a—“ Aegon sighed and shook his head. “There is an opportunity for you, brother, to gain something you’ve wanted since we were children— lower your damned pride and self-righteousness and make her your own. Either that or watch her be married to Jacaerys; it’s your choice, Aemond.” Aegon warned and finally returned to his seat, leaving his younger brother silent, confused, and torn.  

You were in your chambers after the supper— you dismissed your handmaids, wanting to be left alone. You readied yourself, removing the pins in your hair as you stared at yourself in the mirror, your eyes admiring the dress made especially for the occasion. You sighed that such a pretty dress was made for the sole purpose of pleasing your future groom, whom you had no love nor fondness for. You stared at yourself in the mirror until you jumped in shock as you caught a glimpse of your older brother standing behind you. “You scared me,” You said as your eyes locked, you returning to remove the pins in your hair. 

You tried not to grow conscious at how he was in your chambers after dark, at how your dress was partly unlaced and the sleeves were starting to drape off, and you especially tried not to notice the dark look in Aemond’s eye that you could not read or process. “I have a gift for you,” Aemond said lowly, walking closer to you, who still faced the mirror, your eyes never leaving his as he approached. You took in a breath as you felt him behind you, a few inches away, but you still felt the heat that radiated from his body; you still smelt his familiar scent. 

“What is it?” You asked. Aemond wanted to smile as he saw the clear excitement in your eyes. You were always bemused by gifts and shiny things. “Close your eyes,” He dipped down and whispered. There was a hint of hesitancy in you, your skin growing with gooseflesh at the way he whispered in the shell of your ear and how his lips grazed your skin. You licked your lips as you were certain that you would recall this moment as you lay in your bed and pleasured yourself with the thought of Aemond. You were shameless to do such an act— seeking pleasure with the thought of your brother in mind. 

Aemond watched as you obeyed him and closed your eyes. His own wye flying to your lips, shiny and pink. How magnificent it must be to kiss them, he thought. Aemond is distracted as he stares at you, memorizing each part of your face. “What’s your gift?” You asked impatiently. Aemond made no answer. You froze as you felt something cold touch your bare upper chest. You peeled your eyes open, the orbs growing wide as you Aemond clasped a sapphire necklace around your neck. “Aemond…” You called in shock at the beautiful gift. Aemond took in a breath and let his fingers graze the soft skin of your shoulders, letting himself indulge and touch you in such a way. 

You finally turned to your brother, a somewhat satisfied look in his eye as you marveled at his gift. There was another emotion in his eye, something that was always present but you could never decipher. “Thank you,” You sincerely said. “Anything for you, ñuha perzys,” (my fire)

He had never called you that before. He had never addressed you with such a primal and almost possessive tone. You did not know what possessed you— why you did it. Too muddled in excitement and silent wanting perhaps, but you stood at the tip of your toes as kissed his lips. A kiss that was never meant for brother and sister— a kiss that was meant for the intimacy of man and wife. Aemond took in a harsh breath as he felt plump and soft lips against his— him tasting cherry wine and feeling a delicate frame against his. When the uncertainty left Aemond, he tried to move his arms to wrap around you— to flush you tight against him, but sensibilities returned, and you backed away. Fear trickles inside you as you realize what you have done. 

“I… I’m sorry… I should not have do—“ You could not word out the finality of your sentence as Aemond pulled you to him and smashed your lips. Holding you tight to him even though you tried to push him away, keeping your lips locked even though they should have never met. “Aemond,” You called as both of you gasped for air; his hold on you was tight and secure— painful even, but pain disguised itself as pleasure as you felt yourself grow in need with each passing moment you were in your brother’s arms. 

“You will never be his… you’re only mine.” He stated—a promise in his eye. You gasped as you felt him tear away your dress. “You want me, yes? Say it, my fire,” He whispered, tone desperate for you. “I want you… I need you,” You muttered and sighed as his lips met with yours again. “Say that you’re mine,” Aemond ordered, as his lips flew to your neck decorated with his gift. His hands planted on your shift-covered waist, not daring to move until you uttered that you were his as much as he was yours. “All yours, Aemond— never his, only yours,” You distractedly uttered as your mind clouded with the feel of his lips on your neck. That was the assurance Aemond needed to let his hands travel your frame. 

One of his strong hands gripped the flesh of your behind; the other went to your chest. Heaving and soft, the bud calling for his touch. He would have to admit, ever since womanhood struck you, he had grown tempted more than once by your tits. Especially when you have grown a fondness of wearing dresses with a lower cut, going against your mother’s orders, and proudly fashioning a neckline that exposed a tease of your bosom. A breathy moan escaped your lips as Aemond picked the bud, rolling it between his callused fingers. You’ve wanted to feel his touch for years now— deeply desired him that it started to make you grow crazed. And now to finally have him? You felt like you could come by just how his hand played with your tit and how his lips peppered kisses on your neck. 

“Tell me what you want, my fire,” He whispered in the shell of your ear as he noticed you closed your legs and whines leaving your lips. “You— I want you.” You said decisively. You watch his eye grow dark, his lips twitching. “Then you shall have me,” Aemond answered. You bit your lip as another wave of need washed over you. “Tell me how you want me,” Aemond said, giving you control. Your cheeks heat at his words, “I… I want you to lie on the bed,” You said quietly, making Aemond smirk. He dipped down and quickly kissed your lips before doing as you meekly ordered. 

You blushed even more as Aemond expectantly lay on your bed; you were uncertain about what you should do; you had a faint idea of what you wanted, but you lacked the courage to proceed. You gazed at him, though the most evident thing in his lilac eye was lust; you saw his encouragement through it. You swallowed your doubts and bit your lip, moving to remove your shift before him. Aemond turned rigged as you stripped the last of your clothing for him. Leaving you bare and completely exposed. You had not touched him yet, but he could not help but let out a groan of pleasure as he saw your body. You were truly carved by the gods themselves. 

You kept your bite on your lip as you threaded closer to him, bare and moving to straddle him. You hear him take a breath, his eye scanning your body. “Take off your eye patch,” You said, willing your voice to sound stronger. Aemond froze, hesitant to do so. You waited for him; the silence wanted you to take back what you said. Aemond mustered his own courage and let himself be exposed to you. You were taken aback as you saw him fully, as you realized why he chose to give you a sapphire necklace. No word was uttered as you kissed him again. Kissed him until both of you grew dazed. Your hands moved to remove his tunic and unbuckle his belt. Your lips grew downward from his lips to his jaw, then to his neck, to his chest, until finally, your lips hovered over the wanting bulge in his trousers.

Aemond felt himself grow cold in anticipation; a moan slipped his lips as you placed a light kiss on the cloth-covered bulge. You gazed up at him, eyes locking, both desperate for more— you decided to end both of your torments. You pulled down his trousers and revealed his hard length, needing and seeking for your touch. You licked your lips and placed a loud kiss on the tip of his cock; already releasing a clear bead of liquid. You were satisfied as Aemond let out another moan— he was usually so quiet… you would think he’d be quiet when in pleasure as well. 

Aemond shuddered as you took the tip of him in your warm mouth, your tongue circling his cock. You were barely doing anything, and he already felt the urge to release. You took in a deep breath and moved your head to take as much of his long and thick cock, your eyes watering as you could not physically fit the whole of him in your mouth. You were breathing heavily as his cock slipped out your lips, your hands moving up and down his length, coating it with wetness. 

Aemond marveled at every movement you made, every flutter of your eyes, every flick of your wrist. He was certain that he was in heaven as you positioned yourself, taking his cock in between your heavy and heaving tits. Your name slipped lips, lost in utter pleasure as you fucked him with your tits. His large cock fits nicely between your ample bosom. Aemond fisted the silk sheets of your bed, his toes curling in utter pleasure as your movements fastened and as you moaned as your nipples grazed along his skin. You clenched your legs together, feeling the tightening coil of release even though it was you who was pleasuring him. 

Aemond felt himself ready for release but he could not have that— not yet. You gasped as you were yanked off, Aemond switching your positions. Now, you were the one to lay beneath him. You feel him coat himself with your wetness, his cock teasing your folds. “Make me yours,” You whispered.

Aemond groaned as his cock pushed inside your— your walls already clenched and painfully wrapped around him. You feel the prickle of tears as he tore his way through you, the blood from having your maidenhead taken mixing with the wanting essence of your cunt. You let out a shuddered breath as you feel him fill you— fully inside you and the tip of his cock hitting a place that made you forget about the pain of taking him fully. 

Aemond let out pleasured breaths as he tucked his head in your neck, deeply inhaling your scent and savoring the way you moaned his name and how you clung to him. Your fingernails scratching along his back, your hips moving to meet his thrusts. “I thought you innocent, sister— but look at you… you act like such a whore,” Aemond nipped your neck, leaving a mark for all to see. “Just for you… only for you,” You managed to say in between moans. Aemond let out a groan at how you declared yourself his— only his. 

Aemond’s thrust grew faster; your moans grew louder as both of you sought release. Aemond removed his head from your neck and admired the whole of you under him. Your tits bounced with each and every thrust, your lips parted, and your eyes rolled back in pleasure—the sapphire necklace he gave shining from the light of the moon. Aemond let out a groan through gritted teeth as he realized your hand moved to draw circles upon your needing bud, shameless as you pleasured yourself whilst he pleasured you. “Aemond… I’m— I’m,” You instead moaned, the words not coming to you as you felt yourself ready to release. 

“Scream my name when you come— let them know who you belong to,” Aemond ordered with one last thrust, you doing as he said. His name leaving your lips with the tone of nothing but sheer pleasure. Aemond gave a deep final thrust before filling you with his seed— making certain that all part of you will be his. 

That night, you and Aemond slept peacefully and satisfied in each other’s arms. Waiting for morning to come for all to see that the only one you belong to— that the only one you wanted bound to you was your brother.

#targcest #aemond targaryen x female reader #smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond smut #aemond x reader #prince aemond #hotd aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x reader #prince aemond fic #aemond targaryen smut #Targaryen princess

[meanbossart]

its funny looking between his former fixation (orin) and current one (astarion) and noticing he has a very obvious 'type'. what made him so taken with orin, though? what did he like about her? did he not have any initial misgivings? was he ever concerned she might turn on him?

B)c Please know how happy it made me to finally have someone spell this out lmao. It's absolutely true, at least within the dynamic that DU drow shared with each of them; there are a lot of parallels to be found between Orin and Astarion.

The tough part of this question however, is that I have a very difficult time pinning Orin down. She's easily the most elusive character out of the Chosen, and while I understand this Is likely a consequence of being underwritten, I also see a certain charm in a character who's lack of development is part of their tragedy - whose story is very much about not being allowed much individuality of their own, and having no resolution. I think this is a space worth playing in.

I couldn't tell you what the hell Orin likes, what she was like besides blood-thirsty and deranged. I can barely fathom her sitting down to have a conversation with someone. Think about it - she was raised from childhood in the Bhaal temple, both her parent's were faithful servants and she was essentially groomed from birth to be either Bhaal's Chosen, the Dark Urge's consort, or a sacrificial lamb. Nobody had ANYTHING to gain from allowing her to develop any humanity.

Of course, this doesn't mean she doesn't have any, deep inside. We see glimpses of it in fairly difficult-to-get dialogue regarding her origins during act 3. My very vague take on Orin is that she was a determined and persistent person who learned to make her circumstances work for her as best as she could, who had a strong sense of her boundaries but a horrifically difficult time differentiating between negative emotions - this is why I personally don't even know whether she """"led DU drow on""" our of malice or self-preservation. Perhaps she didn't know either - I think whenever Orin felt sadness, discomfort, anger or even happiness or love, she found a way to turn it into bloodlust and sadism, every time.

And it's in part this elusiveness that would have attracted DU drow. What did Astarion have to do to get DU drow to pursue him? He had to feign disinterest, he had to pull away - the fact that Orin never allowed DU drow to get close enough to truly know her plays a significant part in how unhealthy his attachment for her became.

That said, this was a long game - he did become infatuated pretty much from the moment he saw her when they were both teenagers. This is a much simpler concept to understand - he was profoundly emotionally inept and neglected, and she was probably the prettiest thing he ever laid eyes on, not to mention the only other person in the temple close to him in age.

Truth is, they did have a lot in common on the very basis of having been so thoroughly stripped of their humanities, but It was a closeness born entirely from circumstance - the implied vulnerability in the type of life they shared together, even if they never spoke about feelings or shared what normal people would qualify as a "sweet" moment. They didn't really use their words, and when they did, they were like daggers - twisted murder sibling banter.

But when they had to work together it was very different. They played off each each other like match and friction, like two fitted cogs turning a wheel. There must have been nothing that swelled DU drow's heart more than when they killed together, perhaps even more than when Orin hurt him. He loved seeing her in her element and yearned for nothing more but to be let into the joy she found in it.

He Never had any misgivings. He always thought she would come around (to him) eventually. He was completely and entirely blind to how much her resentment towards him grew throughout the years, how he lost a sister through wanting a lover.

#ask #du drow lore #orin the red #bg3 spoilers #durge/orin

[albinocapybara]

Finally after being stumped on a name for so long, the LeshyCat children concept is here, first, of course, some info on the parents :)

(Btw im not a native english speaker)

If you have any questions about them or my other headcanons feel free to ask too!

How they met: Due to his injuries making it extremely difficult for him to adjust to his new life in the cult (let alone how he would now have to learn how to live with a mortal body again) on his own, the Yellow Cat (who i will be referring to as "Amare" from now on) was assigned as his caretaker to help him deal with the necessities that came with being a mortal again (sleep, water, physical activities and so on) on top of the problems that came with his injury. While Leshy at first felt insulted by this treatment (the whole "i was a god i can do this without the help of some mortal yada yada" thing), he soon realized it was for the better (while also realizing his feelings for Amare :3).

Leshy: Freed from Purgatory in the cult around 100-ish years after his death and 15 years after Narinder was overthrown by The Lamb. All his high priests and his witness (Amdusias, Valefar, Barbatos and Agares) had passed away before his arrival, making the former and current gods of death the only "familiar" figures in the cult (they both changed so much after their last encounters), although he still avoided both of them most of the time (Narinder because of his conflicting thoughts about the older brother, and The Lamb somewhat out of anger at them but mostly fear due to how traumatic Purgatory was for him), but dont worry they eventually made amends along with the rest of the bishops :). Also became friends with bat follower but she isnt relevant for this post

Amare (the Yellow Cat): Rescued from being sacrificed to the dead bishop of chaos in Darkwood after followers of the Old Faith killed everyone else from his village, works as a farmer in the cult. He was the only follower (aside from the first five followers of the cult, who are kept alive and act as advisors and friends for The Lamb) that knew of Leshy's past as an bishop, and though he still held resentment for the former god, The Lamb's seeming disposition to forgive him made the cat consider doing the same for him, volunteering to be his caretaker. Once their relationship was made official, he was given a golden skull necklace to ensure the two could stay by each other's side for eternity.

Now for the children hehe

They are twins (as ive mentioned in my other posts), a daughter named Camellia (Amare chose the name) and a son named (drumroll please im so proud of this name) Havoc! (Name chosen by Leshy of course).

They both have green moss-like fur from Leshy, and the head shape of a cat from Amare, but other than that their bodies are very distinct due to inheriting different parts from their parents

Havoc: His limbs and tail, as well as his longer whiskers, are from Amare, giving him a silhouette very similar to a cat, aside from the antler-like branches he got from Leshy, he also has two sets of eyes like Leshy used to have once, ironically though, he has rather poor eyesight, needing glasses to see things that are a bit too far. Despite his name he is actually pretty calm and enjoys the peacefulness of the cult, though this doesnt mean he is opposed to some occasional mischief, specially with his sister. Wants to help with teaching when he becomes of age (also im thinking about the idea of having him figure himself out as transfem but thats for another time)

Camellia: her limbs and tail, being from Leshy, are quite a bit longer and thicker than her brother's, giving her a broader and taller silhouette, as well as making her quite a bit stronger physically, she also has only one set of eyes and shorter whiskers than her brother, as well as no branch antlers. Is a very active person, playing with other kids and sometimes helping adults with tasks that wouldnt risk injuring her (most of the time they dont let her though). Also loves doing pranks and other forms of tomfoolery around the cult along with her brother. She is also very protective of him, getting into multiple fights with kids (and a drunk adult one time) who pick on him (aka bullies). Wants to follow her parent's job of farming when she comes of age.

#cotl #cotl leshy #cotl yellow cat #cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb leshy #cult of the lamb yellow cat #cotl leshycat #again if anyone has any questions about them or my other headcanons feel free to ask! #im so proud of the name i came up with for their son #after being stumped on it for so long

[asurrogateblog]

Cannibals, Pirates, and PhDs: How Did I Get Here?

I mentioned in some tags earlier that I’ve only actually been a real fan of Pink Floyd for under a year, and that the confluence of events that led up to it is pretty absurd. Some interest seemed to be taken in this, so I though I’d elaborate.

I didn’t know how to shorten this timeline and have it make any sense, so it’s... long. But idk, I think it’s pretty funny. If you’re nosy like I am this is for you.

My Backstory Timeline:

early childhood: my parents essentially mainline me and my little sister with The Beatles. I know almost no songs written past the 70’s until at least sixth grade. I develop a childhood crush on Paul McCartney, a joke that the universe really decides to play the long game on.

2014: my dad calls me over one night, and gravely tells me he’s been waiting to share something until I’m old enough. I brace myself to be told about sex or secret half-siblings. Instead, he tells me I need to listen to The Wall. Irritated at the idea of wasting an hour and half of my night, I nevertheless comply and go up to my room and put it on. I do not come back from this, clearly having inherited some sort of generational curse.

Around the same time, I am also secretly watching Hannibal every time my parents send me upstairs because Game of Thrones is “too gory”. This will trigger three important things: an interest in psychology, a love of horror media, and a classical music phase will train my attention span to last well past the three minute mark.

2014-2023: Over the intervening years, I become a casual fan of Pink Floyd, but make a deliberate point not to learn anything about the band. I like being able to imagine my own meanings for the songs. Also, I am motivated against this by a childhood memory of being deeply frightening by a picture of old Paul McCartney (LOL). I do not want that to ever happen again, so no learning.

Cut to April of 2023: I am finishing up my first year of my PhD program studying media psychology. I am in a bad place mentally, and am going through another horror movie phase to fill the hole. As a result, I get very into American Psycho. The main character, Patrick Bateman, is a fan of superficial 80’s pop music, particularly Genesis. I decide to start listening to Genesis to see if I agree with his tastes. While researching “best Genesis albums”, I come across The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. I listen to it, and am blown away. I had no idea that the Phil Collins band made music like that. This sends me down the prog-rock rabbit hole. I still won't learn any lore.

Summer of 2023: MEANWHILE, I am also going through another pirate phase. I have a fairly encyclopedic knowledge of 18th century piracy (and am still quite active in the Black Sails fan community). Around this time, I get really obsessed with this one random guy named Dennis McCarthy who was hanged in 1718.

I decide to work poor Dennis into a science fiction story I’ve been working on. The premise is essentially that the universe is an abandoned simulation, and a ‘glitch in the matrix’ starts to, among other things, bring people from the wrong time periods back to life. The format of the story is vaguely monster-of-the-week, in which the characters have to solve various problems caused by mistakes in the code. I think, “hey, you know what would be perfect for this? that fanfic I wrote about The Wall in high school.” Said fic (which that stupid fucking beatles movie stole from me) is about a world in which Pink Floyd never existed, but a wannabe rock-star discovers a box full of their records and decides to copy them. While he is touring his plagiarized version of The Wall, he realizes that the events of the album are starting to happen to him in real life. By working this concept into my new story, I go through another one of my periodical The Wall phases. It's in full swing when fall rolls around.

September of 2023: This semester, I take a grad-level narrative theory class in the English department. I decide it would be helpful to follow along with a specific example, so I choose The Wall. Using the terminology I am learning in the class, I start to realize that The Wall is…. incredibly narratologically fucked up. To help orient me, I watch the bootleg concert recordings, and the trick with the surrogate band sends me so out of my mind that I decide I must break my rule about never learning band lore.

This is where the two plot-lines converge. I don’t remember which came first, but around this same time, I think to myself “hey, if Genesis was hiding such an incredible album under the 80’s pop, what must Pink Floyd be hiding?” On that whim, I put on Piper at the Gates of Dawn, which equally sends me so out of my mind that I decide I must break my rule about never learning band lore. I needed to know what the fuck happened to get them from Piper to The Wall.

September-November: In the two months between the onset of this and finally making another sideblog, I dedicate all of my free time to learning as much about Pink Floyd as humanely possible (and writing a 20 page essay for that narrative theory class). As you can imagine, this is a lot to unpack all at once for someone who didn’t even know who Roger or Syd or any of the rest of them were. Luckily, I am over-educated enough to be a very fast learner. Aside from the band lore itself, I of course also fall in love with the rest of Pink Floyd's discography musically-speaking. Having this interest to latch onto genuinely pulls me out of my depression.

Cut to February 2024: I am really enjoying myself, and want to keep this going as long as possible, but I am starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel on Pink Floyd lore. I decide I need to feed the fire by supplementing with lore from another band. The Beatles seem to have a strong fan presence on tumblr, why not revisit a childhood favorite? The universe laughs at my expense.

That about brings us up to date. I have gone through so much character development over the last eight months, it’s crazy. Pink Floyd is definitely one of those things that is less of a “phase” and more of a permanent part of my mindscape. Weirdly enough, since I am studying media psychology, all of this has also been really good for my career? I never took an interest in -real- media figures (as opposed to fictional characters) before, and I feel like I have a much clearer sense of things now. It's definitely influenced my research, so whatever domino effect this has on my future is bound to get even funnier.

Anyway, that’s my backstory!

#it’s interesting re-examining how my relationship to The Wall has changed over time. #strange how you can love something as a kid but not really personally relate to it. and then you grow up and suddenly you’re like... #...oh shit. there -must- have been a door there when I came in #// #that makes it sound less fun than its been tho #god. i've had so much fun. im actually glad i took so long to get into band lore so I could learn all this -now- #i had kind of worked myself into a (very silly) mental spiral of 'what if I've run out of new things to discover' #and it's been so. idk... healing for me to realize all of this has been here the whole time #(clenching my teeth: ....emotional vulnerability....)

[appleciders]

@explosionshark​

"Lilith, stop. You're going to hurt yourself."

Lilith grins, teeth bloody. "You think that matters? Still, Shannon?"

"Lilith."

"Don't play naive. We both know how this ends, for both of us."

Shannon swallows, presses her eyes closed. Her life is all that stands between Lilith and the Halo—all that stands between legacy's lamb and the slaughter.

(It would be a more meaningful shield, if she weren't already branded herself.)

"I do," she says. "You know I do."

The evenness of her voice draws a pause, for a moment. Lilith's dark eyes find hers, hold.

All of Lilith is holding, actually. She hasn't moved since Shannon told her to stop.

Disobey me, Shannon wants to demand. Disobey all of us. For once, disobey, and leave, and live.

The irony—only to those words, Lilith would.

"It's the best for the mission," Lilith says, and there's a slight question, now, in the nocked arrow of her tone. "Unless you have no faith?"

"My faith in you has never been in question," not true, but she'll confess the lie to Vincent, who will understand.

"Just your faith in God, then."

Shannon lets the blow glance off her. "How will you protect your sisters if you're hurt, Lilith?"

"I'm protecting them through the advancement of the mission, so that they should not have to do it themselves." Obviously, Shannon hears, beneath. "So that you don't have to."

When she trains Lilith to be the next, they talk of temperance, patience, mercy. When you learn these things, I know you will be ready.

In truth, Lilith is too ready to become Warrior Nun.

But Lilith loves Shannon, loves her in a vicious, jagged, bony way.

These two facts sit inside each of them, pressed into the meat of their kidneys and livers—one the only thing that could ever stave off the other.

It won't be enough, though. Shannon knows it because for as long as Lilith obeys, she will be right—there's two ways this ends, and they are both the same—one ends with Lilith dead with a molten loop tearing out of her skin and the other ends with her dead, her back bare.

Shannon refuses to live to see the second.

"As your Warrior Nun, I'm telling you to fall back. We'll try again tomorrow."

Lilith wipes the back of her wrist against her bloody philtrum. "You cannot be serious. We're so close, Shannon.” Her tone sharpens. “Maybe I was right to question your faith."

But Shannon is serious, and she is faithful, and Lilith knows both. This is just a step, for Lilith to work herself down. To sheathe a weapon when it's yourself is no safe thing.

"We need to find Beatrice and Mary," Shannon says, instead of answering. She'll pay the dig back when they're safe in Cat's Cradle, and the retaliation can come with mirth.

Lilith’s face flickers. Beatrice. Mary. “Alright,” she says. “Let’s go.”

#this one is a bit messier but. wow shannon lilith you wreck me! #thanks again for this prompt!! #hope u like at least one of them lol #warrior nun #sister lilith #shannon masters #my fic

[foxglovelullaby]

Newest hyperfixation is Cult of the Lamb and I already beat my first play through and post game and just have a couple achievement to go…. And I really need to talk about the characters and lore of this game jfc

So warning gif end game spoilers and everything in between under the cut

I really hope as more folks finish the game that people give it the in-depth and critical thinking that it’s characters deserve….

The Lamb has a ton of characterization between the lines and actions of the world around them. It very much is a Frisk and Chara situation.

Like the Lamb is prophesied and referred to as a hero character. You do not have to do any of the “bad” actions, you can literally do the whole game without sacrificing. My end count was 1 sacrifice just because a follower gave me a quest asking me to do it 😭

But like you defeat all these false gods including The One Who Waits all with the aims of protecting your followers during the process. The only followers I killed were those possessed by the false gods to try and kill me….

Like yeah you have all these shitty options to do but you can be the best leader you can in comparison to the situation

Not to mention that if you forgive The One Who Waits, he becomes a follower and you learn more about him through specialized tasks….

And his story line and how he talks about his siblings feels like there is so much unsaid and between the lines.

He was the personification of death but that does not mean he was bad to begin with. Like he talks about how cruel his sister was or how his one sibling was deathly afraid of him ((before he hurt anyone)) and how he actually talks positively about his eldest brother….

I do not feel he is free of wrong doings by a long shot, especially since he takes two cats as children to be his bodyguards or whatever…. but I feel like it’s his siblings who originally did wrong to him and then he wanted change they did not and them fighting against it, made him lash out and finally hurt them - which then they chained him up for who knows how long…

Yet he still is sentimental about them when he’s your follower and I feel he misses some of his siblings…

And like The Lamb learns all these emotions through quests for him and they bring him items from his siblings realms…..

Not to mention that all the previous crown bares were refereed to as weak or useless and we see that Ratou means well from all his actions in mentoring and aiding you

Idk I’m still digesting all the content and half asleep so this will be post for now

#cult of the lamb #purrsonal post #spoilers

[siletreas-workshop]

Cult of the Lamb Cosplay!

In one of my most recent posts I gave thanks to VanhooverPE for the awesome convention I was very happy to go to! what I didn't mention however was that I was in cosplay! I was wearing my fully finished COTL Lamb cosplay and was super fortunate to meet amazingly talented VA’s such as Ellie Ray and Tabitha St Germaine and Mark Hamill and meet incredibly talented artists such as @therealakineko​ and Gobiraptor and BoomPOP  and Waffle Wishes  I also got to compete in the awesome cosplay contest hosted by Crackle’s Cousin Cosplay where I was overjoyed to win the advanced category and best in show! and now for what anyone reading this has actually been waiting for! THE PICTURES!!! (I took tons so I’m just posting some of my faves)

looking fabulous as the Lamb!

went with one of my besties @berushogunposts​

was absolutely blessed to meet Ellie Ray!

dunno who your fursona is but I love how they look!

you were so nice and cheerful to chat with!

one of the crackles cousin cosplayers!

another awesome person!

the con started on a Friday the 13th so this brilliant madlad combined Pinkie Pie with Jason!!! the chainsaw actually WORKS and plays music! they made it themselves and I was super lucky that I got permission to hold it for a few photos!

this is Gobiraptor in her ADORABLE fursuit! (I bought a hanging wall-scroll version of the Velvet Remedy blanket behind her along with the matching enamel pin and a GORGEOUS Derpy Seraphim pin!)

here’s a pic of all of the cosplayers all together for the contest! everyone here did a FANTASTIC job!

here’s a pic of the Crackle’s Cousin Cosplayers striking a badass pose at the end of the convention!

and then there's THIS gem! (you had to be there to get the joke XD ) overall Vanhoover was a ABSOLUTE BLAST! I also met and became friends with Gabishy and they Vlogged the entire Vanhoover convention! heres a link to it! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jmednveoybs

buuut it wasn’t the ONLY convention I wore it too! I just got back from FanExpo! (which is why it’s taken so long for me to post this! I wanted to share all the con pics at once!) it was SO busy but I went in a group with my friends and for one of them it was his first time EVER at a con AND he tried to cosplay!(and did a pretty good job too!) super happy for him!

first person I met at the con was this creative fursuiter! they made their own suit themselves and it looks awesome!

ran into another fursuiter right away and they also made it themselves!

then met this outstandingly BADASS Jinx cosplayer!

found Denki from Chainsaw man!

then met this amazingly talented cosplayer Echo

Nick cage with THE BEEEEEEES!!!

adorable plauge doctor!

FOUND WALDO! and this ones the “Apocalypse edition”

then before heading downstairs I bumped into the amazing Clawthorne sisters Eda and Lilith!

then found Makima from Chainsaw man!

then had a visit with nurse Power!

found Saitama in the crowd!

there was an ACTUAL ROBOT BEEP BOOPING AROUND!!!

I got a selfie with it!

bumped into the mighty Skeletor!

then I ran into a Nazuna cosplayer from “Call of the Night” along with these other 2 cosplayers! I have no idea where they're from but omg they look AMAZING!

I got a quick selfie with Nazuna!

found a Skyward Sword Zelda cosplayer! the detail that went into this outfit it astronomical! I adore every detail!

so glad I got a selfie with her!

found these awesome Cult of the Lamb fans! and learned there is infact 1 other Lamb at the con somewhere! I made it my mission to find the other Lamb!

Playboy BUFFey (no joke this guy was RIPPED)

a very small hero of time!

bumped into Ravio! his prices may be outrageously high but the smile is priceless!

the fairy godmother from shrek was fluttering around the hall!

I almost got taken in by the SCP foundation!

thankfully I wasn’t anomalous enough!

MY BUDDY TOTORO! (no joke tho this cosplay was amazing and I got to see the setup inside when their handler helped them get a drink! they had a camera setup to livefeed to outside world to them through their phone inside the suit! absolutly amazing engineering!)

another adorable plauge doctor (their buddy took the pic!)

a very friendly witch who adored the Lamb!

some awesome Black Clover cosplayers that my pals and I actually met on the ferry heading over to the con earlier that morning!

ran into Zenitsu Nezuko and Inosuke!

then bumped into the fabulous anarchy sisters Panty and Stocking! (with a tiny freddy fazbear plushie!) I even found BoomPOP again at this convention! scored some buttons and chatted for abit! they're super kind! and lastly!

I FOUND THE OTHER LAMB! no joke I’d been looking for over 3 hours so it was awesome to finally find them right before we were leaving!

they let me hold their sword too! overall I’ve had a blast being the Lamb! might wear this again for another convention in the future but for now I’m happy to post pics of my adventures wearing the second cosplay costume I’ve ever made in my life!

#cult of the lamb #COTL #cotl fanart #cotl cosplay #Lamb #cult of lamb #cotl lamb #fan expo canada #fanexpo2023 #Vanhoover #vanhooverpe #ellie ray #tabitha st germaine #mark hamill #therealakineko #akineko #gobi #gobiraptor #waffles #waffle wishes #PSG #ravio #saitama #nazuma #black clover #demon slayer #zenitsu #nezuko #inosuke #skyward sword zelda

[kunosoura]

Do you have any thoughts on Bioshock? I've been playing Bioshock recently and not only is it one of my favorite video games of all time, but it's a video game that I grew up with and seriously affected my taste in media. Bioshock has a lot of gameplay issues and a weak third act, but I love the story, characters, setting, and music. Also, I love Bioshock 2, hate Bioshock Infinite, and am super excited for Bioshock 4.

It's really easy to think of them as watered down immersive sims, and it's true; when you compare them to Deus Ex or System Shock or even other modern watered down immersive sims like Dishonored, Bioshock 1 and 2 get blown out of the water. I think it's maybe a little smarter to think of them from the other direction - as first person shooters from the cultural wasteland that was the mid 2000's Call of Duty zeitgeist, with immersive sim influences. Like, yeah, there were people whose favorite game is System Shock 2 that played bioshock and were frustrated that it was the closest to a followup SS2 had gotten, but I think the vast majority of its players were people for whom it was a breath of fresh air after years of FPSes trying and failing to copy Call of Duty.

Story wise, the first one is simple but fine; the satire is a little on the nose and played out now that everyone hates idiot bajillionaires, but it worked for the time. Its real strength lies in its atmosphere, which is to this day still completely unique and unimpeached to me.

2's story is a weird mixed bag - on one hand, trying to follow up the libertarian Andrew Ryan with the Collectivist Sophia Lamb was kind of embarrassing (but still far from the most embarrassing both sides-ism in the series), but on the other hand, I think the moral narrative of the ending works and has a lot more depth than people gave it credit for. You've got your bad ending where you kill everyone and harvest every little sister, and your good ending where you spare everyone and harvest every little sister, of course, but what's in between is very interesting. Eleanor is watching you, but it isn't just determining whether she turns out good or evil. She's learning very specific lessons about how to wield her power watching you. Specifically, what her power should be used for. If you spare every little sister but kill every major NPC, she learns to use her power to protect the innocent but executing her own swift judgment on others, leading to her killing her mother in the end. If you kill every little sister but spare the major NPCs, she learns that the weak are to be exploited, and that mercy is a cruelty to be inflicted on your enemies such as her mother. And if you get the neutral ending, your only impact is teaching her to use her own judgment, because she's on her own from here on out.

People complained that killing Gil Alexander was an "evil" choice, despite the fact that his audiologs requested that he be killed, but it isn't that straightforward. First of all, while his old self asked to be killed, his current self does not want to die; you aren't killing someone at their own request, but instead killing someone that doesn't want to die. That leads into the second point - the point isn't whether you're doing a good thing or a bad thing in killing or not killing someone, it's whether you're comfortable executing judgment on someone else's life. Yeah, the common objection of "but I've killed dozens of other enemies" applies, but crucially, the three NPCs you specifically kill or spare are all completely defenseless and harmless when you make those choices. Killing Alexander as he is by the time of the game isn't necessarily a bad choice (you can get the, for lack of better term, nicest ending even if you kill him, and the general good ending as I mentioned above has a specific variation if you killed all 3 npcs), but it is one that specifically demonstrates to Eleanor that there are times when you're justified in taking the life of a defenseless person into your own hands.

It's just really interesting, because in an era where videogame choices outside of some RPGs and the like amounted to "good vs evil, wrong vs right" (even/especially bioware's weird habit of repackaging that dichotomy), it's a surprisingly complex narrative about the morality of violence. There's the obvious good/bad of how you treat the little sisters, and the more nuanced variations within depending on how you use violence when it isn’t strictly necessary.

oh and. fuck bioshock infinite especially burial at sea. it's so funny that the dlc that lets you play as a woman for the first time in the entire series also forces you to be sneaky and nonlethal. no videogame rampages for Elizabeth!

#bioshock 2 and eleanor worked better than dishonored and emily #but mostly because high chaos emily just works so much better imo

[ravenouscultleader780]

COTL : Lamb Creator(OCs in a tale of 2 lambs AU) showcase

hi ya'll, so here is a quick post tonight with showing off my Lamb Creator made designs of my own Narinder x Lambert Offsprings and Lambert's Long Reunited Older Sister Lamberina.

Now I will show off all 4 of the children lambs in their full synopsis with lamberina having her own updated bio after reuniting with lil bro and meeting the bishops as followers.

Bo Peep

Name : Bo Peep Sheepard

Age : 16-18 yrs old

Birthdate : 8-11-20.23 N.O.F(The New Old Faith Era "All Hail The Mighty Powerful Lamb)

Family : Lambert-Father, Narinder-Mother, Lamberina-Aunt, Leshy-Uncle, Heket-Aunt, Kallamar-Uncle & Shamura-Uncle(goes by They/Them pronouns). Ratau-Foster Grandfather, Ratuu-Foster Grandfather.

Siblings : Lilith(Lily)-Younger Sister, Judas-Youngest Brother & Saturn-Middle Younger Brother.

Friends : Samantha Bloodsucker-Other Mother(Mother Sammi), Lady Dimistru-Other Mother(Momma Dimmi) & M3gan-Other Mother(Mommy M3ggy), Cluton-Current BF.

Likes : Being Adventurous, Fighting with her Parents, Being around the cult and her Family. likes eating beetroot meals(both splendid and magnificent meals), reading with shamura and training with heket.

dislikes : being judged, teased, her loved ones getting hurt or killed. heartbreaking her bf cluton and losing her sanity to the red crown.

Bio : "Born as the first born calf of Lambert and Narinder, Bo Peep or Bo is super adventurous and quick witted like how her Father Lambert is and her aunt Lamberina as well. Bo hopes to bringing peace to the New Faith and Fighting The New 4 Bishops of it with her only having one issue her BF Cluton is a Angel to new bishops and plans of executing him and Bo herself in return to form.

But Bo will stop at nothing to protect her Family, Friends & even her Sweet Cluton from those dreaded new bishops with the ex bishops of the old faith to help train her & show the young calf the ropes.

Lilith(Lily) Midsommar Sheepard

Name : Lilith M. Sheepard

Age : 14 yrs (Pre-teen)

Birthdate : 8-10-20.23 N.O.F(The New Old Faith Era)

Family : Lambert-Father, Narinder-Mother, Lamberina-Aunt, Ratau-Foster Grandfather, Ratuu-Foster Grandfather, Leshy-Uncle, Heket-Aunt, Kallamar-Uncle & Shamura-Uncle(They/Them pronouns)

Siblings : Bo Peep(Bo)-Older Sister, Judas-Middle Younger Brother & Saturn(Sat)-Youngest Brother.

Friends : Samantha Bloodsucker-Foster Mother(Mom Sammi), Lady Dimistru-Foster Mother(Mother Lady D.) & M3gan-Foster Mother(Mommy M3g)

Likes : Doing Mediation, Reading Books with Shamura & Farming with Leshy and Kallamar, Loves Helping any cultists with requests, loves singing folk songs(created or existing) and collecting flowers and making flowercrowns.

Dislikes : Loud Noises, Being Stressed when meditating, hates dissenters and causing trouble.

Bio : "Being The 2nd Born Calf to Lambert & Narinder Lily is a very quiet and softer lamb who is pretty merciful and all around pure to anyone and everything she interacts with all over the cult and the new faith.

Lily is more like her Mother Sammi and Uncles Shamura, Leshy & Kallamar being a very quiet and cowardly sweet lamb and not wanting to cause any trouble in the new faith and going against the New Bishops inside it and rather make peace and forgiveness with them instead which the young calf doesn't understand.

Judas Woolheart

Name : Judas Woolheart

Age : 9-11(Child Stage)

Birthdate : 9-11-20.23 N.O.F(The New Old Faith Era)

Family : Lambert-Father, Narinder-Mother, Lamberina-Aunt, Ratau-Grandfather, Ratuu-Grandfather, Leshy-Uncle, Heket-Aunt, Kallamar-Uncle & Shamura-Uncle(They/Them pronouns)

Siblings : Bo Peep(Bo)-Eldest Sister, Lily-Younger Sister, Saturn-Big Brother

Likes : "Being Traditional in Rituals, his Family esp his Dad Narinder, Learning abt Old Faith's History, Playing Ball with the cultists & enjoys playing sitar alone in the weeping corner.

Dislikes : Loud Interptions(or Noise in General), being tired, getting Sick and dealing with departure from his Family.

Bio : "Born as the 3rd calf from Lambert & Narinder, Judas is a very shy and brave Lamb who longs for using the red crown as its new vessel like his father did before him but sadly the bishops refuse that offer as much as their mother-dad narinder does but judas can be a rebel like his older sister bo whenever he feels like it.

Saturn Gnealbaa

Name : Saturn Gnealbaa

Age : 12-16 yrs(Late Tweens-Early Teens)

Birthdate : 8-9-20.23 N.O.F(The New Old Faith Era)

Family : Lambert-Father, Narinder-Mother, Lamberina-Aunt, Ratau-Grandpa, Ratuu-Grandpa, Leshy-Uncle, Heket-Aunt, Kallamar-Uncle & Shamura-Uncle(They/Them pronouns)

Siblings : Bo Peep(Bo)-Eldest Sis, Lily-Second Elder Sis & Judas-Middle Older Brother.

Likes : Being Hard & Strict, Fighting Combat and In Crusades with his Father, enjoys eating pumpkin soup, being prepared for anything even battles, his Family.

Dislikes : Distractions & Spoiled Food, Losing himself.

Bio : "Being the final 4th child of Lambert & Narinder, Saturn is a overall hardened loner lamb calf with a need to eat and a fight to finish at all times whenever he's with his Father on crusade runs or purgatory runs for god tears. saturn is more quiet, a great slayer and weapon blacksmith for creating any weapon for battle.

his eyes was born blind and has a eyepatch covering it but saturn feels like it makes his foes look scared or terrified of him whenever he beats them for loot to bring back to the cult. and he enjoys knucklebones with ratau.

hope you all liked this post, gettin pretty late and im tired and gonna sleep now! goodnight and hope u all have a good holiday weekend on the 4th. bye

oh as a bonus heres lamberina's design from lamb creator. no bio s needed again im sleepy atm.

all of these ocs lambs looks are perminate designs for future fanart and story edits!

okay bye fr

#cotl au #cotl #picrew #lamb creator

[starsallalight]

@mcrtals : Ella & John

“ thank you, ” removing his hat, he started the move to hand it over to her, cutting it at the last moment, bringing the garment back close to his chest.     it did not seem right for her to put away the hat, though it did leave him in an awkward position, as there was no other servant to take it anywhere else.

a house such as this, even if quite smaller than his own, should have at least a ser servants cleaning it and maintaining it.   perhaps they were all busy somewhere else, getting the house ready for the dinner.     “my mother and sister will be arriving soon, they are very…   punctual.    ”     fanny’s hopes of having fashionable new friends would end today most likely.   he felt a surprising twinge of regret.

masking his critical look of her appearance with an examination of the house, john felt that he was playing the fool tonight.    agreeing to a grotesque invitation for the possibility of…   reading shakeapeare with the serving girl?    from the looks of it, she had no time to brush her hair, much less stop her work to indulge him.

there was a smattering of curses behind him, the butcher’s boy swaying as he brought up the large piece of meat up the stairs.

Quickly turning her attention from her stepmother's guest to the struggling child, Ella's face melted into a look of deep empathy. Lifting her skirt slightly, she raced forward and took hold of the boy's burden.

"That's a terribly big load for such a young boy." She offered, adjusting the weight so she could reach into her apron pocket. "Here. For your troubles, darling. Thank you very, very much."

With a smile and stroke of his hair, she passed him a few coins and a couple wrapped sweets. "Be careful going back, now. Make sure you rest, and tell your mother I said hello. I'll visit with her the next time I'm in town."

Once he was gone, she waved and turned her attention back to Mr. Thornton. "Please, come inside. I can make you some tea while I cook and clean. I, I'm afraid I can't say how long Lady Tremaine and the girls will be. They didn't tell me anything. I do hope they're back before your mother and Miss Fanny arrive..."

She'd certainly hear no end of it if they weren't. It was just another trap they loved to put her in, stuck between two choices where she couldn't win. If they were late, she'd be chastised and outbidded for not coming to fetch them. But if she did, she'd face the same for leaving Mr. Thornton alone.

Ella put the lamb down and quickly washed her hands before flittering around to ready some tea and biscuits. And while the water was boiling, she tried to do some more cleaning and preparing for the meal.

One would think that, with her family's critical eyes, she'd be used to her every movement being watched. But this was different somehow. Ella already knew that there was no winning with the Tremaines. They were never satisfied, and nothing was ever up to their impossible standards. In a way, she'd long ago given up trying. Their eyes were so constantly on her that she could learn to ignore them. But Mr. John, however, was a new face. And she didn't want to seem lacking in his view. His eyes seemed to burn into her back like fire.

Have courage and be kind...

The kettle whistled, and she raced over to bring the tray to the table. "Please, sit. Enjoy. I made these biscuits myself this morning. Lavender and Earl Grey, my mother's favorite recipe. Can I get you anything else, Mr. John?"

#➳ 𝑎𝑢𝑟𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑠 & 𝑠𝑎𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒 ➳ ; 𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎 ; ❨tales❩ #V; Just A Little Bit Of Magic #John #mcrtals

[entrophe-blog]

Bird

My great-grandfather, Buckle, started a fundamentalist Christian church in his living room, in Georgia with my great-grandmother, Betty. In the same home, they would raise three genera- tions on homegrown food and a sweet disposition. Sweet, but like a Vidalia onion cake.

In this same living room my sister and I would practice ballet and perform the nativity in costume. when we spent summers with Grandmother and Daddy-Buck, we learned how to sew seeds, fry okra, catch crawdads, and pull Betty out of the creek when she fell in from time to time. Betty was beautiful and complex– she had fierce religious convictions and an even stronger dependence on prescriptions. She read to us stories like Amelia Bedilia and subjected us to hours of televange- lists like Binny Hin. We were trained ballerinas and spirit-filled demon hunters by the age of ten. We were steeped in believing that life was everlasting if your name was written in the Lamb’s book of Life, but that the devil’s army lurks to possess the unguarded soul with everlasting Death.

“And the devil that deceived them was cast into the lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the false prophet are, and shall be tormented day and night forever and ever. Then Death and Hades were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death.” Revelation 20

[The fear of death is a powerful instinct and persuader. What a comfort to eliminate it altogether; and live believing life is eternal.. albeit warred over by good and evil. And you could be saved! But you have to follow the rules. And if not, so death will be eternal suffering in lakes of fire.]

My exodus to Massachusetts felt like a great escape for many reasons. At the time, I wanted to run as far as I could. I had just lost my partner to suicide three months prior. Sep- tember 28th, 2016. He was 22. He suffered through addiction, and a similar familial dynamic in which prayer and god's word were the only medicine offered supportively. The time following Connor's death, I could not stand the physical sensation of being awake; my body was not digest- ing food, and I was hallucinating and self-medicating heavily. Every place, every road, and every familiar face was a reminder of this unimaginable pain I did not know how to swallow. So I ran. “If I have to be here on this planet, I have to do what I want to do. I’m going to make my own dreams. I have nothing to lose but myself.” I remember sobbing into my mom's shoulder as I left; afraid of giving up on my own life and angry that I had to go on hurting.

_____

January 2017 11am

Mascara on the sleeve of an oversized sweater

Grey blues wallowing in hibernation weather

Breakfast smells across white walls in sunlight

Turning pages of memories of my last life

Mascara on the sleeve of an oversized sweater

Swollen lips utter ‘lean on me, it's gonna get better

_____

April 2017 6am

When there is a natural disaster does the earth feel sorrow or guilt? Does she understand that this force and purging is a mechanism of her ever-perfecting nature? When we sit and cry with her to let our bodies feel and imagine why, with everything, does she feel that too?

_____

May 2017 2pm

Rip through the machinery of your fragile brittle mind

_____

June, 2017 11:30am (Connor’s birthday week)

When I feel joy I become joy potent and permeating

I peel my eyes to see its play present in my sorrow

And now when I feel joy, I also feel my sorrow

My sorrow looks for joy And my joy looks for sorrow

Now tethered to each other and tied into a loop

Try to close a book backward

_____

July, 2017 10am

Will you feel the pain of your actions forever as I will?

You now without body to feel from, do you sense now the gravity which pulls

_____

August, 2017 11:30am (Mom’s birthday weekend)

My body is precious

It has held my love between bodies and held beloved bodies that are not bodies anymore

If I can honor my body because of what it has held, I can also honor my body for holding me

If I can honor my body for what it has experienced, I can honor all bodies for the vast unknown of what they have experienced

_____

October 2018 9am (we fell in love in October)

[love letter to myself]

You are especially breathtaking in the morning

When you’ve been well hydrated, with warm cheeks.

Jello morning sliding around in the kitchen in woolen socks, Twisting winding spiraling your limbs around yourself Dizzy drifting dance and dreamed you spilt

your beans into a cozy nest to share

A pumpkin promenade of bare bones busy with repair

_____

January 2019 9 am

I became a sun when the void was too dark for me to see you

_____

July, 2019 8:30 am

The Wind saw itself and the word was Bird

_____

September 28th, 2022 4am

It has been 6 years. 6. I think of Connor every day. I feel strange about it as if healing over time would change the frequency that I remember scenes of our relationship. It is scary to forget things. Denial and anger subside and like all who grieve I will cry, whenever I feel like it. But more than that now, I laugh or smile which is better. I will find glimpses of him in the quiet of tall trees, remembering his particular way of being surrounded by them and how he enjoyed feeling so small. the smell of French press coffee, the days that I sleep past 8am. and the importance of doing absolutely nothing at all. I think of Connor when I have to be brave, and sometimes I can laugh remembering how fast he drove or the other ways he could be dangerously brave. I re- member the softness with which he listened and played and his adamance that messy was okay. “If I separated myself from you I would turn entirely to thorn” - Rumi

In my grieving, the inner process of shock, abandon, accept, and assimilate, snags and snares and just might trigger-play memories back like a reverse-draw-four-days-in-the-abyss. My subconscious reaches for something to comfort and soothe a spiraling spiral. A dream will come to help untangle the unseen and unspoken. The sun hits my skin again and tears kiss my pores, it’s nice to see you, yourself, again in the sun, remembering to drink and eat and move and hum.

#art #poetry #writing #spilled ink

[neuroticdragon]

I am hella tired but I gotta talk about how Gamergate indirectly caused one of my longtime friendships to end. I'll post under a cut because of mentions of suicide.

Someone in one of the Discord servers I frequent posted a six hour video about Gamergate. I am currently 4.5 hours into it. (Literally just had my phone playing as I played a lot of Cult of the Lamb.)

I realized in a very roundabout way, Gamergate ended one of my friendships.

I mean there was a lot more to it than that. I had been miserable in the friendship for YEARS at that point, but it did play a small part.

So uh... Long story short, years after Gamergate, Zoe Quinn came out with allegations against Alec Holowka about an abusive relationship which ended in a successful suicide attempt from Holowka.

As a frequent user of the internet, of course I knew who Zoe Quinn was. I was aware they were falsely accused of sleeping with a game journalist to get a good review of their game. I was also aware a lot of the narrative about them was largely false. The entire well had been poisoned by bad faith actors.

I, as a victim of abuse myself, had sympathy for Quinn.

My now ex friend posted a video on my private (now deleted) Twitter account about how Quinn HAD to have been lying because Don't You Know About Gamergate.

Basically the video made the argument that because Quinn was a "compulsive liar" therefore this accusation had to be false. Which... is not how you make an argument. Admittedly I didn't finish the video because it made me so viscerally angry and I was disgusted my friend was listening to such vile nonsense.

It was an extremely mask off moment for my friend. Suddenly a lot of his weird idiosyncrasies about women and relationships came into light. I don't want to say he was a full on incel but he did have many of the same tendencies.

I still don't know whether or not Zoe Quinn was lying about the accusations and I doubt we ever will learn, but shortly after Holowka's suicide, one of the (male) developers on Night in the Woods also came out with his own accusations about Holowka and his abuse while working under him that matched a lot of Quinn's story. I at least felt somewhat vindicated that I had taken the "right" side.

Oh and then of course the fact that Holowka's sister said she believed Quinn should have been enough.

But you know, that's what happens when your internet diet is heavily focused on trolling, you're inevitably going to fall down some nasty rabbit holes. And my friend was definitely falling down some nasty rabbit holes. It wasn't anything you noticed immediately, but get him talking enough, and eventually you realize who he really was deep down.

I snuck onto my now ex-friend's Twitter after I blocked him and he was asking if anyone knew whether or not they knew the Quinn allegations were true. I guess to show that I had blocked him "for no reason" which... Was not the only reason I cut him off but that's not something I want to get into here.

But even if the Quinn allegations were proven false beyond a shadow of a doubt, the fact that he's listening to folks whose entire goal is to destroy the life of one person is enough to make me not want to associate with him. I already knew about how weirdly obsessed he was with Ken Penders.

Anyway, it's whatever. Just thought it was interesting that Gamergate indirectly ended one of my friendships.

I'm going to sleep.

#shut up nero #cw suicide #suicide mention

[toussainttwins]

Dear ladies, what do you think about motherhood? Would any of you like to be a mother someday?

NISTANA Dear Anonymous, Another question, regarding children, was answered by my lambkin Tanna. Therefore, I hope you would not mind, if I will be the one to take yours upon my - especially shiny today! - horns.

We are not sure how children come to be, why one are beautious and the other ones are horrendous to behold. We succubi have no mother or father to speak of, and we cared not to ask our older sisters, who looked after us and brought us nuts and berries, merry songs and wise warnings when we were little does. Naturally, we were more interested when our horns would grow twisted and large and when we could begin sipping tasty emotions. Young succubi, as you must be aware, have a different, rather bland, diet. You can say that the forest, where we lived all together, was our father. As for mother, we never thought of one, until a human woman, who taught us how to spin, sew and tailor began telling us fairy-tales. She lived in the village close to our forest and we thought her to be their Unseen, for she dwelled in loneliness, had many lines across her face and inspired fear and high regard among her kin. She caught us one evening, when we were trying to ...borrow... a jam tart from a windowsill for Natanis. Ah, we thought both our tails and horns were going to fall off! So keen was our terror! Luckily, she was also kind, and our punishment was a merry one. We mended beautiful clothes for her and made pretty patterns in silk, when we leaned a few tricks from her hand. Her eyesight was poor and she thought us to be little daughters of a woodsman who lived at the other end of the forest. Succubi are quick to learn anything, if it catches our fancy long enough, and our tiny horned heads were captivated by long dresses and bright ribbons, like we had never seen in the forest! In our lady's tales mothers were often rather grand. One even turned into a tree and gave her forlorn daughter three wonderous dresses to enjoy herself at a ball! I and Natanis liked this tale a lot. The other one was imprisoned by Vodyanoi king because she could create wonderful clothes with her needle, but she escaped the underwater kingdom because the king was ugly, and didn't let her see or play with her child, whom she loved dearly. When our lady came to know we were at loss what a mother is, she grew cross in her manner, but we both tasted a great sadness in her. That summer she taught us how to make special patterns at the sleeves and the collar and the hem ( for protection ), how to add laces to a dress ( it was the first time we saw laces, and wondered if they were clouds or snowflakes caught by magic ), and gave us each a human dress at "lambs day". I suppose, we can call her our mother, for she did everything mothers did in fairy-tales. She even died. Our other mother could be Moon - mother Tiur - she also dies, but comes back and makes us and our horned sisters even more beautiful with her smiles each night. In a nutshell, we understand that to be a mother you must learn to weave protection magic and love someone very rather much, and enjoy them loving you back. It is very hard to choose which of my sangbonbons I love most of all, and I dread, positively dread, to imagine how downcast the rest would be, if I forsake them. And I can't ask all of my sangbonbons for children, even if Natanis helps and we share and include one and all, because then we would need a very large forest to raise them all, even bigger than our Caroberta Woods! Besides, what if a child is crafted in an ugly likeness, have no horns or hoofs or even a tiniest tail? I don't want to be a cruel mother and make such a nasty gift to my child, only because I was not schooled to create one properly. And what if she appears with my golden long hair, while she wants my Tubbynubs' bold bald shiny head and gorgeous muttonchops? How is one to ask? What if I and Natanis make children that will not look alike and the children will be sad and lonely? It is a path ripe with dangerous questions, we still have no answers for!

Still, many of our sangbonbons spoke sweetly of their mothers; their hearts began beating with a softness that was like a dandelion fluff and a gentle light of the moon. Even our strapping and silent lover from Skellige, whose voice grew as soft as the sea-lambs, when he told me the medallion, he never took off, was a gift from his modron. I suppose, if not for the confusing question of children, I and Natanis would love to be remembered with such nourishing and delicious fondness, as many remember their mothers.

#♥horns and hoofs ( toussainttwins ic answers ) #♥deeds&diet (toussaint twins headcanons) #thank you for such a challenging question anon #hope it is amusing and not too long

[gay-brunch-at-1-ok]

First dates usually fall under three categories: perfect, horrible, or confusing. My first date last Friday is debatable.

When I explained how the date went with my brunch friends, they said, “oh it was perfect! Congrats! That’s promising!” “I guess you’ll be out of the market soon!” But there are these little things that have me doubting. Now let me explain and maybe you’ll get onboard why I’m rather… unsure.

The guy in question is Marcus.

We actually met last August at a party where we made out and followed each other on Instagram. None of these events we actually remembered because we were blacked out drunk. Fast forward to the first day of June, he messaged me out of the blue and invited me to his garden party. I told him that I couldn’t make it because I was going to march at the Pride parade that day. So we decided to meet at Akbar in Silverlake. The spot is an amazing hipster gay bar that occasionally plays La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf or The Middle by Jimmy Eat World, none which are your typical gay tunes. Sometimes we need to take a break from Born This Way, Padam Padam and Anti-Hero remixes. When we finally met up (which he was late by 30 minutes which was forgivably okay to me), we smiled and hugged. He gave me a pat in the back, which is giving “I see you more as a friend” vibe. Red flag! Red flag! We talked and I felt as though I was leading the conversations. Don’t get me wrong. We had good conversations, but I felt as though I was making more of an effort. We learned we both liked Wong Kar Wai, Elif Batuman, and Soccer Mommy. He went to Stanford and I went to Cal (rivals). He talked about growing up in Portland OR, and we both agreed that Voodoo Donuts is overrated. Yes, we had a lot to talk about and they were great moments in our date. But there were also these awkward silent moments where we run out of things to talk about. During these silent moments, I wondered if maybe I’m not interesting enough. Maybe I’m boring him? Maybe he’s not invested in this date and wanted this to end already. After we finished our drinks, I was convinced he didn’t want to stay longer. But he asked if I wanted to grab dinner. Feeling as though maybe there is some mileage in this date, I said sure!

Marcus suggested this place called Junkyard Dogs. Upon arriving, we discovered it was closed for good. Bummer! We looked at each other and I suggested, “There’s Indian food around the corner if you’re down?” He nodded, “Sure.” When we arrived, the guy seated us near these old straight couples, which Marcus pointed out. I didn’t really care. It’s not like we’re going to Catch or TomTom. But it was a vibe for sure. (Footnote: my friends laughed at the fact that I took him to Indian food. Apparently, Indian is a bad first date but I beg to differ.) Marcus ordered some lamb green stew and I ordered Paneer Tikka Masala. I learned that he’s dairy intolerant, doesn’t eat beef, and is allergic to cats. Noted! Noted! Noted! I brought up that I have two cats which my sister is taking care temporarily. I thought that was a dealbreaker, but he said he’s been meaning to get inoculated and usually they help. I guess he’s referring to shots that will help mitigate his allergies? I forgot because I was starting to notice how pretty his blue eyes were. We had a lot of leftover food and I suggested he bring them home. He did say that the amount of food can last him a few days. However, he said he would have had to carry them and he wanted to go out a little more. So we left them and went back to Akbar.

I ordered him a Shirley temple and I got a margarita. He wanted to dance later, and so off to the dance floor. No one was dancing when we arrived. I tried to dance and sway, but I felt awkward. We weren’t familiar with each other. I wasn’t drunk enough yet too. However, I thought to myself, “Good things happen when you try to be brave and follow your heart.” I placed my hand on his cheek, pulled him closer, and then kissed him. And everything fell into the place. We danced in rhythm. Our lips locked. My hands guided his hips and his hands gripped my shoulder. My lips then explored his neck. I would find him smiling at me, as we danced further into the night.

Midnight struck and we had to go. We noticed that the dance floor was finally popping. He whispered, “We’re such a trendsetter.” He held my hand and guided me through the crowd.

Outside, we waited for my Lyft. And then kissed a bit more. He commented, “I might not remember too much that night we met, but the body remembers.”

We talked about when we can meet again, but it would have to be after my upcoming Mexico trip, so… in 2 weeks. I got in my Lyft and we parted.

The day after, I messaged him around 1 pm. I could have messaged him at 1 am or 9 am, but I didn’t want to come off too eager. “ Last night was fun! Hope you got home fine. Let’s meet again after I come back from Mexico City.”

His response: “Sounds good!!”

I overanalyzed that response down to a tee. Why didn’t he acknowledged in writing that it was fun for him too? Did he actually have a good time? Maybe he did because he used 2 exclamation marks? Maybe he’s trying to keep it cool or maybe he liked the date but not a lot?

Usually, when I have one inkling of doubt in a guy, I just cut him off immediately. I’m not going to chase after a guy, if I know he’s not into me. Why go down a path when it’ll just result in a heartbreak?

Noah told me to cut it out. “It’s just the first date. Just see where it goes.”

I think Noah is right. I just need to cut it out. Almost all my life, I prided myself to being a free-spirited vagabond who won’t let a guy dictate how I should feel. I’ve even called myself the gay Samantha Jones of Los Angeles (but with less sex.)

However, maybe these are all defense mechanism to avoid being hurt. Maybe I need to put in an effort and stop worrying about being rejected. And if I am rejected, I’ll just worry about that once I cross that bridge.

For now, let me just revel in the fact that I had a pleasant first date and just have some faith in the LA dating scene. After all, maybe he does like me a lot. 💕

#gay #journal #lgbtqa #queer #gay romance #romance

[feelinsheepish]

each family member and what they’re currently working towards/goals.

Ask my muse questions! [accepting]

Okay, wow xD well this will take a while. Considering the family is quite big, I won't go into DEPTH, I'll keep it simple. Age order, mother and father first! Under the cut cause theres a few of them >>

Bryan: Wants to have a strong heritage and family, keep the village safe and have his children meet their expectations

Penelope: Just wants a big strong, happy family, she's very content tbh

Mason: Secretly just wants to stop fighting and settle down and farm, but is currently the strongest and best fighter/protector in the village

Lenny: A bit of a slack off currently, not sure on his role in the village as of yet, wants to live up to his father's name but knows he never truly will.

Tabatha: Wants to win her father's approval and is constantly working towards it. Wants to be recognised as much as a male is in the village.

Terrance: Wants to learn more magic and gain powers to heal and help his little sister.

Elijah and Maddison: The twins want to always stay together and play pranks, they want to be the quickest and best sheeptaurs EVER.

Spring: She wants to be able to play and run in the fields like the other lambs, she wants to help her family and the village.

#long post #i put icons in so you know who is who ;; #yesthefandomfreakblr #some of these drawings are ooolllld