#Wisp Lamb

[phoebastria-albatrus]

i like mentally titltled this one innocence which is kinda emo but shrug emojiiii

[groovyempire]

My favorite characters: purple edition.

Who do you recognize?

[noxer]

I like video games, but I'm mostly hooked by the atmosphere, story, or design rather than the gameplay, although there are exceptions. That's why there aren't many games on the list. I have to think carefully before I decide to play any game. The first three games are very important to me, they did something to my brain. Although it's funny that they all have something to do with the apocalypse. The next four games, although not as influential, are still great, they are fun to play, have nice characters, and good gameplay. I highly recommend them. These three games are more for fun than for any special experience. While I have nostalgic feelings for Oblivion, as it was the first game I played (not counting Doom, which my dad let me play when I was about four years old. I don't remember much of it except that I couldn't get some blue key and got stuck on a level. Maybe I should try it again?) These two games were almost perfect, but they were missing something. The Talos Principle 2 is a good game, but it wasn't as much of a revelation to me as the first one. I don't know why. Event 0 attracted me specifically because of the AI ​​interactions, and it has a pretty interesting story, but the somewhat chaotic gameplay mechanics and some unnecessary emptiness turned me off. Portal is also pretty empty, especially compared to the second part, but it is more action-packed. These games are just good. I feel like Deltarune is ranked too low because I like the story, but the gameplay just wasn't for me. Ori is a cute metroidvania, but ultimately it didn't really grab me. Scene Investigators was fun to play through, but considering I barely remembered it, I guess it's understandable why it's here. Games i didn't finish: Heavy Rain and Ori 2 just got boring for me at some point, and my brain isn't fast enough for Ghostrunner.

(I forgot to change color for one raw. Oh well)

[auroraboringaliceinwonderland]

Games I’ve always wanted to play based off of art style:

Night in the Woods.

Hollow Knight.

Ori and the [blank] (those games in general).

Cult of the Lamb.

Y’all, I think I just like big eyeballs….

[nicolekart]

✨ First Switch Game ✨

I worry that I will quickly become bored or irritated. 😭

Maybe you know some other fun games? Something like Ori (I played it on PC)

[microwavingtoniii]

Because i cant finish what I start

[dev-does-doodles]

Coffee Break, featuring 17 lovely characters.

( The dog in the wanted poster is my friend’s dog. )

[measlybeesly]

I finally got myself both of the Ori games and Cult of the Lamb! They were on a really good sale in the Nintendo shop, and I'm so excited because I've been wanting to play these games for so long 💞

[necromancy-enthusiast]

To help everyone understand the gravity of the situation with Unity's recent bullshit, here are some games made in unity:

Cult of the Lamb

Bendy and the Ink Machine

Untitled Goose Game

Road 96

Cuphead

Power Wash Simulator

Genshin Impact

Getting Over It

Inside

Tem Tem

Kerbal Space Program 1

Kerbal Space Program 2

Rust

Rimworld

Outer Wilds

Dream Daddy

Thomas Was Alone

I Am Setsuna

Tunic

Night in the Woods

Pony Island

Return of the Obra Dinn

Among Us

Pokemon Go

Hollow Knight

Ori and the Blind Forest

Ori and the Willow of the Wisps

Vampire Survivors

Two Point Hospital

City Skylines

The Long Dark

Firewatch

Oxenfree

Subnautica

Subnautica: Below Zero

Fall Guys

Many, MANY MORE

Unless you only play tRIpLE A titles this will most likely affect a game you like. Hell, it can even affect really big games like Pokemon Go.

For a long time, starting years and years back, a lot of people have been talking about the preservation of games and being against moving to digital only games for reasons like this, and how the greed of various big companies in the game industry will negatively impact access to games and their preservation. It's happening. This will impact games that are already out. This will impact games being made. This will impact games made in the future. So if you care even a teensy tiny bit about a single game made in unity, or you care about the future of game development period, I suggest you pay very close attention.

A good article from an indie developer detailing the changes and exactly how it screws devs over:

[starry-bi-sky]

Jack Fenton was a round kid. Jack Fenton was a round kid with big blue eyes and a pudgy face and a brilliant smile, with a big laugh loud enough to rattle your bones. He was a stocky kid, big and tough and strong as an ox. He was the champion wrestler at his high school. Then he grew up, and he's still big, and broad, with a square jaw and straight black hair. He can lift both of his kids with one arm and lift his wife with the other. His smile remains brilliant, he has eyes like the open ocean.

Maddie Fenton was a willowy kid. Maddie Fenton was a willowy kid with bright eyes and a round face and a mind sharp like a scalpel, with a smile that could convince anyone to do anything. She was a tough kid, thin and lanky and strong like bamboo. She was top of her martial arts class by the time she was twelve. Then she grew up, and she's still brilliant, and she's no longer willowy, with a pointed chin and eyes that look purple in the dim light.

Jazz Fenton was a thin kid. Jazz Fenton was a thin kid with bright teal eyes and a soft face and a mind like a rabbit's, with a silk-hiding-steel voice that could sink into your bones. She was a bright kid, social and bookish and brilliant. She jumps from interest to interest like they're lilypads, soaking in everything that catches her eyes. She wants to be a doctor, then a therapist, then a teacher. She's growing up.

Danny is.

Danny is...

Danny is a small kid. Danny is a small kid with pale skin and a chubby face and eyes that are neither round nor blue like the open ocean, with a quiet voice that sounds like the wind whistling through the trees. He is a quiet kid, shy and skittish and hiding. He has eyes like a lamb; big and sweet, and they will swallow you whole. His eyes are blue like a glacier, and they see right through you, curtained with dark, wet lashes. His hair is black like an oil spill, black like raven feathers.

Danny is a watchful kid. Staring and watching, silent. Observing. He stares at the stars, as his parents work, at the neighbor across the street as he tinkers with his motorcycle in his driveway. In a house full of suns, there must be a shadow. In a city covered in sunlight, the dark always goes somewhere.

Danny is an outcast kid. He is an ink blot on a white page. He is a dark storm cloud over an open field. The looming shadow behind the trees. He is young and sweet and scary, with gentle fingers that are slender and long. His laugh is neither big nor does it rattle your bones, and his mind is not quick like a rabbit's nor is it sharp like a scalpel. His mind is radiant, the nail catching on the loose thread and unraveling it all in meticulous precision, and his laugh is soft and warm and it seeps into the soil like rainwater, soothing the ground.

Danny is a kid with a face like a stone statue; sharp and cold and pale, smooth and tall and cutting. With hair black like the night, that wisps and curls behind his ears and at his neck, swooping in his swallow eyes. He squints in the light as if his eyes will never get used to it, if you listen to his heart you can hear it bleeding.

Amity Park is a city with a blue sky and white clouds and a bright sun, a postcard come to life. Pretty and safe, full of normal people and normal jobs and normal parks and normal schools and normal children. In a world of heroes and powers and magic and aliens, Amity Park is a place that your eyes slide right over.

Amity Park is not made for a child like Danny Fenton, and Danny Fenton is not made for a place like Amity Park.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Steadfast 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, obsession, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: King!Bucky Barnes (Medieval AU)

A Knights, Kings, and Knaves Story

Summary: you serve Duke Rogers, but when his friend, the king, takes an interest, you find your work in turmoil.

Note: I’ve wanted to do medieval drabbles for years. I bit the bullet and now we’re all doomed. I was torn on whether to make this one Stucky however… I think Steve deserves a wifey in his own installment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The days turn gray as you ride for the river. The nights are short but dark. You sleep by a fire under the king's cloak as he keeps watch. He dozes astride, often lurching and snoring behind you. His heat, his proximity, grows familiar if not smothering.

For all your life, the divide between servant and master has been kept wide. That rift between you always steep and retractable. Now, it is nothing but a whisper.

The king's hand remain on the reins despite his fatigue. Yours are lower down on the leather. You wear the mittens of lamb's wool he found for you along with a plain but lined cloak. He is a masterful barterer.

The horse snorts as it descends the bump incline. The smell of water dampens in your nose and nips at your cheeks. You see a dock ahead along the coastline. There are boats and barges, voices hollering up into the sky, the grind of wood and billow of sail. You lean forward and squint to see it clearer.

"Gander's Crossing." The king startles you with the declaration as he straightens in the saddle. "It will lead us to sea. It is those deeper tides I worry for."

"Worry?" The word wisps from you before you can stop it.

"Yes, even I worry," he assures you. "Why shouldn't I when I have more than myself to trouble my soul?"

"A whole kingdom," you murmur, "your highness."

He hushes you. "Certainly, yes, a people alone."

You rock with the horse as he guides it down the stony pass. He waves as he comes closer to the dockers and calls 'ho'. He dismounts as you feel gazes in your direction. You stay with the horse as he speaks with a captain.

"Double gold, for your trouble..." the offer rises loud enough to hear. You can see the reticence in the grey-haired man.

"...not the horse that's the problem..."

Their voices lower again. When at last, they part, it is with the clink of coin between them. The king stalks back to the horse and works at unleashing the saddle bangs from its rump. He sighs.

"Stay close as ever," he warns.

You obey and trail him down with the horse. He passes over the steed to a boatman and he beckons you with him. There are more gazes and you wonder if they know who he is. Yet, there eyes barely seem to snag him.

"Men of the sea are wary of women," he affirms as he herds you up the ramp.

You shrink down. Oh. You come upon the barge as the king lingers like a shadow.

You're shown to a cabin. The tilt of the boat makes you dizzy. You teeter and back into the king. He catches you with his hands on your hips.

"You'll get your sea legs yet," he bids. "Best to sit."

The room is small. There is something hanging from the ceiling. You feel along the wall and slide down to sit on your feet. You feel better, less treacherous. He goes to the fabric strung from above.

He spreads the cloth and turns. He maneuvers himself into it, landing in the odd sheath that cradles him. It rocks with the boats idling sway. You shift and sit on your bottom, hugging your knees.

"A hammock. A sailor's bed," he explains.

You dip your chin down. You've only ever slept on straw and floor. You'll do just fine down here.

"I will find us some food when we set off. Let the boatsmen lift anchor first," he says. "I wouldn't mind a moment to close my eyes."

"Yes, your highness."

He hums. "There is enough room for you as well..."

"Your highness..."

"Pip," he opens an eye and looks at you.

"Poppet," you correct yourself. He grins.

"Very well. Keep mind to the bucket in the corner, lest your stomach join the river in churning," he wiggles and closes his eyes again. He yawns and drapes his arm over his face. Your eyes dart to the pail. It might not be unwise advice.

👑

You shiver as you hug the bucket. Your back racks and you ready for another violent heave. Your stomach twists but does not upend. Cold sweat drips down your forehead. You temples throb as the waves lash at the side of the boat in a startling cacophony.

"Dear pip," the king kneels beside you and mops your brow with a wet cloth. "It will pass."

Your teeth chatter and you gag. There's nothing left in you to expel. You groan and shield your face with your hand. You are humiliated.

"Is this... death?" You babble.

He laughs softly, "no, sweet pip. You are unused to the sea, that is all."

You moan again. He pulls your hand away from your face and presses his knuckles to your cheek. You lean into their comforting warmth.

"Rest will do you well," he draws you over to him as he stretches his arm over your shoulder. You shiver and slacken against him weakly. He rubs your arm as he holds you. You're too sick to care for propriety.

"My apologies, my king. I've never... never been about."

"Oh, do not apologise, sweet pip," he cooes and pets your hair. "When I was a boy. Oh, you could ask the duke yourself. We went upon a large galley. I was rather eager to be upon it but once we could not see the shore, I was but a puddle of sick."

You groan and cling to his cloak as your insides constrict. The bile sears your throat but gets no further. He hums and reaches below your cloak to rub your stomach.

"Be calm," he caresses you through your dress. "You will survive this, pip. You are ever strong."

His hand continues to move as you shake. The water hits the boat and the voices of men carry on the wind whistling above. He leans back with you against him and extends his legs out. He keeps you again him and his hand crawls along your hip. You quiver and it falls onto your thigh. He leans his head against yours as you start to hiccup.

"This night will pass," he assures, fingers tracing the wrinkles in your dress. "And we will be here still."

[ghoulsbounty]

hi i heavily request something where the reader and the ghoul(cooper) are travelling together and it’s night time, they’re outside trying to get some sleep. the reader is sleeping beside cooper but they get cold and they subconsciously move towards him and grab him, laying on his chest. HOW WOULD HE REACT? 🫶

Until Tomorrow

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Bounty!Reader 

Warnings: sliiiiight mentions of smut (18+), alluding to masturbation, a bit of angst, mentions of canon-typical violence/torture, control, small mention of barb if you squint, mention of sex work (not reader), Cooper is mean.

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: This is just a little ficlet that I've left open ended in case anyone would like a part two. I didn't want to go full-guns blazing into a smut fic since you didn't specify, but I am more than willing to do so, Anon 🫡 I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

👉Read part two HERE👈

"What are you up to?" the Ghoul's voice pierced the eerie night, sharp and accusing. The darkness shrouded the makeshift camp, the bitter wind cutting through with relentless force. His eyes narrowed as he watched you approach, tension thick between you.

You dropped to your knees, wrists sore from the tight bindings he had reluctantly removed. The sand greeted you with a thud as you settled beside him, maintaining a cautious distance. You needed warmth, but you couldn't get complacent with your captor.

"It's freezing," you stated matter-of-factly, shifting against the sand to carve out a somewhat comfortable spot, however impossible. "You let the fire die."

The Ghoul glanced towards the extinguished campfire, a thin wisp of smoke rising lazily into the frigid night sky. The remnants of charred wood and ash lay scattered around it, the faint scent clinging to his clothes as he reclined against the dunes.

"I can start it up again," he offered, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. "If you fancy being deathclaw chow."

Your gaze widened as you glanced into the expanding darkness, the absence of the fire amplifying the encroaching shadows. Terrifying howls and snarls reverberated from the depths, prompting a chilling question: were the creatures lurking out there truly more fearsome than the man holding you captive? The notion of a swift demise by claws and teeth seemed almost preferable to the prolonged torment of captivity. While the Ghoul might not be the one to end your life, delivering you to the cartel as he had pledged would render him just as culpable. In that sense, he might as well be the one to pull the trigger himself.

After your first escape attempt, the Ghoul's demeanour turned even harsher, though the dehydration was a greater torture than any physical aggression. He justified his restraint, explaining that he refrained from inflicting worse harm only because you were required in perfect condition, and he took pride in fulfilling his bounties meticulously. However, his rationale did little to mitigate his rough treatment. To him, a few small bruises and the sting of restraints were acceptable, especially considering your spirited defiance.

But in the span of a few weeks, that defiance began to wane, and resignation crept in. You felt like a sacrificial lamb, resigned to its fate, being led to the inevitable slaughter.

"I'll take that as a no," he remarked, snapping you out of your reverie as he shifted beside you. Even he seemed affected by the cold, evident from how he huddled in his duster, arms crossed tightly over his chest in an attempt to retain warmth. You couldn't help but envy his layers, wishing for more of your own as you wrapped you arms around your torso. 

You maintained silence, willing yourself to sleep as you turned away from him. Any further interaction felt uncomfortably intimate.

Cooper listened to the sound of your ragged breaths battling against the cold, your body trembling beside him. The wind was particularly brutal, the kind he would normally seek refuge from in an abandoned building. However, your sluggish pace throughout the day had resulted in him setting up camp in the exposed wasteland, devoid of shelter or respite from the elements. Your punishment, he had said, for dragging your feet.

He could endure it; he had endured it countless times before and would do so again. But for you, he wasn't so sure. Despite your initial bite, you had turned into a meek little thing in the palm of his hand. A small, niggling part of him wondered if he had been too harsh, but survival instincts dictated otherwise. When an animal showed its teeth, you put it down—figuratively speaking, of course, he couldn't risk losing his bounty caps. 

This new approach seemed to have worked with you, perhaps a bit too well.

As you shifted beside him, turning to face him with closed eyes, Cooper felt like prey ensnared in the hunter's grasp, awaiting the next move. An uneasy panic gripped him at the sudden feeling of helplessness, but he willed his breath to steady. You released a deep sigh as you pressed your body against his side, and he stiffened at the unexpected closeness. Your arm draped across his abdomen, and a leg hitched and hooked around his thigh.

Cooper was nearly ready to question your apparent lack of brains when he noticed your breathing, deep and steady. His words died in his throat as he felt your arm tighten around him, drawing him closer to you like an anchor. It wasn't a conscious decision to seek him out; rather, a subconscious response to the biting cold, he reasoned. Yet, it did little to ease his discomfort as the warmth from your thighs spread over him, seeping into his core and igniting a sensation he hadn't yet entertained with you.

He found himself mesmerized, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, his gaze drifting to your parted lips as you released another sigh. Your nose pressed against his shoulder, and he could swear he felt the warmth of your breath through the layers of fabric, igniting the burnt skin beneath.

This wasn't real, not to you, and certainly not to him. By morning, he would carefully remove himself from your embrace, restoring the intended distance your unconscious mind had breached. You would remain oblivious, and only Cooper would bear the weight of knowing how his muscles longed to reach out to you, to touch you without the shadows of anger and conflict looming over them. He cursed the memory from a distant life that surfaced in his mind—a loving touch beneath soft sheets, a foolish adoration for a lover turned stranger.

His fingers twitched, restrained by the firm crossing of his arms over his chest. If he could just maintain this position, he could endure the night. If he could ignore the sensation of your leg tightening around his thigh, your knee brushing against his growing arousal, he could make it through. He chastised himself inwardly for his weakness. He should push you away, keep you bound and isolated from him, be indifferent to whatever dangers might befall you because it would have been your own fault. But Cooper needed those caps. If he could just survive the remainder of this journey with you and keep his sanity intact, he promised himself a visit to the next inn, where he could seek solace in the comforting touch of those who were more than willing to accept a ghoul's money.

Still, he didn't expect anything to compare to the softness of your breasts pressed against his side. Something snapped within him at the sensation, a jolt of electricity coursing through his body. The wild thought crossed his mind that perhaps you were warming to him, not just seeking warmth for yourself. He had broken you, after all, hadn't he? Or at least, he was on his way to doing so. He couldn't help but wonder: if he woke you, would you pull away or press yourself closer?

A foolish thought, but one that haunted him nonetheless.

He lay in silence, listening to the rhythm of your breath as he stared up at the stars. Waking you wasn't an option; he wouldn't risk the inevitable panic and distress of you finding yourself half-straddling the monster who had stolen your freedom. He would let you sleep, indulging in the fantasy that you felt something other than contempt for him as he waited for the sun to rise. Until then, he justified to himself as his hand slipped from its restraint under his arm and found the buckle of his belt, it would be a shame for a solitary man not to indulge.

[creativecupcake]

Cult of the Human: Character Breakdown

Hey Guys! Things are finally settling down so I’m starting to get things ready for my yandere Twisted Wonderland series inspired by @kiame-sama’s Humans Are Extinct series. My story is meant to take inspiration from her series and the game Cult of the Lamb. Watch the human be thrust into a new world and have to deal with a world full of obsessed Yanderes. This entry is meant to break down what monsters each of the characters will be and a bit of the idea behind that.

Heartslabyul 

Ace- Pooka/Púca

Deuce- Wolpertinger

Riddle- Fairy (Flower)

Cater- Encantando

Trey- Brownie/Boggart 

Savanaclaw

Jack- Sköll

Ruggie- Gnoll 

Leona- Sphinx

Octavinelle 

Floyd- Eel Mer/Descendant of Charybdis

Jade- Eel Mer/Descendant of Charybdis

Azul- Cecaelia/Descendant of Scylla

Scarabia

Kalim- Shadhavar

Jamil- Naga

Pomfiore

Epel- Tree Nymph/Dryad (Apple Tree) 

Rook- Dullahan/Headless Horseman

Vil- Siren (both of land and sea)

Ignihyde 

Idia- Ignis Fatui (aka Will-o-the-wisp)

Ortho- Ignis Fatui (aka Will-o-the-wisp) 

Diasomnia

Sebek- Kobold

Silver- Mere/Nightmare

Lilia- Vampire Bat Fae

Malleus- Dragon Fae/Raven Demon

Staff

Crowley- Crow Herald (based of Huginn and Muninn) 

Crewel- Selkie

Sam- Crossroad Demon

Trein- Hippogriff 

Vargas- Minotaur

Others

Grim- Chimera

Rollo- Phoenix 

Fellow- Huli Jing/Kitsune

Gino- Bakeneko

Chenya- Matagot

Neige- Pixie/Sprite

Skully- Revenant

The Great Seven

Queen of Hearts/Cordelia- Flora Fae/Tinker Fairy

Scar- Sphinx/Nemean Lion

Ursula- Scylla/Cecaelia

Jafar- Naga:Basalisk 

Evil Queen/Grimhilde- Harpy/Banshee

Hades- Will-o-wisp/fire fae

Maleficent- Dragon Fae/Celestial Fae

Reasoning:

Heartslabyul- 

Ace is a Pooka as they are mischevious nature spirits. I see him as the rabbit of Heartslabyul, he playful and full of energy, but he will use his power cruelly if he deems necessary. Plus after finding out his unique magic I feel that a creature that copy the looks of others is spot on

Deuce is another story. I wanted a bunny or rabbit due to Deuce’s bunny day card, but I was looking for something that could fit his ready to fight nature. Thus, the Wolpertinger, a cute lil bunny with antlers, wings, and fangs. Looks cute but can go for the throat!

Riddle’s adherents to rules inspired this choice. Lots of myths go over the rules fairies have for their food, parties, homes, etc. I like the idea that Riddle didn’t quite get the playful nature most fairies do with the rules due to his mother. I see him as a flower/flora fairy, his home being a lovely rose bush. 

Cater’s encantado is similar to a selkie, coming from the encantado dolphins in South America. I envision Cater’s water form as more like a mermaid than a full dolphin. The encantado are supposed to be supernaturally gorgeous men, but I feel like that works well with Cater’s established issues with his ‘true’ self. So many see him as just a pretty face so he just keeps up the illusion.

Trey is textbook definition a Brownie. He’s helpful, cooks, cleans, and takes care of others. But I have seen some stories say that when sufficiently pissed off a Brownie can turn into a Boggart. I like to think this fits Trey quite nicely as he is scary when he gets serious. Since I don’t know if these stories are myth accurate though (I found mixed info online) I decided to make him both. His Brownie dad seduced his Boggart mom by just taking care of her an refusing to give up.

Savanaclaw- 

I like Jack as a werewolf, it fits nice but I decided to change it up a little. Sköll in Norse mythology is the son of Fenrir and chases the sun as it sets. In one of my friends D&D campaigns they made Sköll a race of celestial wolves that help lead the way for the stars at night. Very loyal, very strong at night, but weak during the day and need a pack with other creatures to help them.

I’m sorry I tried to find anything else that might fit, but Ruggie is 1000% a gnoll. It just fits him perfectly! I even found pics of a cute one selling his wares and just went, Ruggie would so do that to make a buck.

With Leona I do see how Nemean Lion works for his status as a ruler, but I feel like sphynx fits so much better. Leona is so much smarter than he pretends to be. Sphinx like to play with their food in some myths I’ve read and that reminds me of Leona’s plan for the tournament. Not to mention lots of the art I’ve seen decorates the sphinx in tons of gold and jewels. 

Octavinelle-

For the sea trio I wanted to really lean into the monster inspiration. Not only are they mermen still, but they are a monster out size. Descendents of the great monsters Scylla do Charybdis they can tear apart full ships and devour large beasts. I see the tweels circling and creating a whirlpool or teeth like Charybdis, while Azul hides in a cave and picks off any escaping like Scylla. Makes them an even deadlier trio! 

Scarabia- 

I went looking for a creature to reflect Kalim’s cheerful nature and maybe his love of music. I was lucky to find the Shadhavar, a unicorn-like creature said to bring joy to those around it. The horn on its head is hollow and is supposed to play the most beautiful sounds. Not to mention stories of kings and other royalty paying lots of gold to try and get one in their collection. 

Jamil on the other hand is a Naga, as it fits his personality and name to a tee. I’m thinking of basing him off a sand viper but I am still looking at options. 

Pomfiore-

Epel’s connection with apples is what I wanted to focus on. So I went with a simple apple tree dryad/tree nymph. 

Rook’s nature to hunt put one thing in mind for me, a headless horseman/huntsman, also known as a Dullahan. Rook refused to give up the hunt in life, or in death (joking). Rook seems to have a poisonous smoke wafting from his neck when his head is not attached (courtesy of Vil).

Vil is inspired by the original sirens or Greek myth (bird women also sometimes classified with harpies) and the more modern idea of sirens as more mermaid-like. Either way his beauty and voice draw others in, either to their doom or to heap praise upon him. But do NOT underestimate Vil, both sides of his family are viciously savage when scorned. 

Ignihyde- 

For Idia and Ortho I mixed Will-o’-wisps and a local legend of ghost lights. They are meant to be benevolent, leading lost souls home or the dead to the afterlife. But to not ever try to harm them, their fire can burn your very soul out of existence. Feel like this can really work with Idia not liking being near others (always floating just out of reach) and Ortho’s helpful nature. 

Diasomnia- 

Originally I was going for a more crocodilian monster, but then I saw Kobolds in the D&D manual. The fact that some play them off as worshiping dragons, being brash and loud, not always the most socially aware… So does Sebek know he’s a Kobold?

For Silver I thought about the Baku for a sec, but I feel like a Nightmare centaur is just perfect for Silver. Pulls on his equestrian training and his unique magic. Though instead of spreading nightmares I imagine he would fight them off. 

Lilia is a vampire bat fae, not really much different than he is in the original game. 

Malleus is also pretty similar to how he is in game. I plan to lean into how his type of dragon is different in my world and how he has more bird tendencies from his father, not to mention play with his demon heritage.

Staff- 

For Crowley I wanted to really focus on his desire to share information. He may not be a great headmage in game but he has a slightly different role in my story. I made him a Crow Herold, basically a spirit of knowledge that tries to pass it on like how crows teach their young.

Crewel needs his coat, selkie can not be beat. I know there are other tales of creature taking off their coat/skin to reveal a person beneath, but selkies just felt more like they fit Crewel (especially with how brutal seals and sea lions can be). 

Sam is a deal maker, a business man, he will get you what you ask as long as you pay the price. He is a crossroads demon who is trying to get people to see that demons stick to their deals. They have more in common with the rule following fae and fairies than most like to admit. 

Trien’s long live and knowledge of history feels most important to my story so I wanted a creature known for their intelligence. He started off as a Griffin before he shifted to a Hippogriff due to my story changing. He is calm and kind, very nurturing, but do keep in mind he still has claws.

Vargas is a Minotaur, strong, proud, and bullheaded. He can be kind, especially to the younger creatures, but he can have a hairpin trigger at times.

Others-

Grim is a chimera, though he may look like an odd cat creature now, he will grow more and more of his features over time. Right now he has some tiny bat wings and his tail has fangs (but not a full snakes head).

 Rollo is a phoenix, as he needs an association with fire, but I felt like the phoenix makes his story more tragic. He can survive what his brother could not and it haunts him to this very day. 

Fellow is a Huli Jing, while he may not be outright malicious he is a trickster and he will defend his brother to the death. He has many tricks but his magic is not the strongest.

I see Gino as a young bakeneko. Fellow is helping him learn to control his shape shifting and illusions, but the lack of voice makes some of his magic useless or difficult. 

Chenya on the other hand is an oddity among his species. Most matagots are black cats so Chenya’s colorful coat stands out. He quite likes that fact but does wonder where it came from. He’s seen as mostly a household spirit, but do remember matagots can bring ruin when necessary. 

Neige felt like he needed a cute creature that is more often overlooked. Pixies and sprites can be cute and are usually associated with light and whimsy, but they do have plenty of stories of leading others astray and attacking. Neige is genuinely sweet and wants the best for others, especially for the dwarves in his care, but he will fight when needed. 

Skully as a revenant just makes sense for me. A spirit who can never pass on, drifting in and out of places. He usually sticks around the area where he died, feeling lost anywhere else. It is unsure if Skully was a human in his past life or one of the other human-like creatures since he can’t really remember too much of his past. 

The Great Seven-

The Queen of Hearts (named Cordelia) is a mix of Flora Fae and Tinker Fairy. Flora Fae comes from the great amount of flowers and other flora in Alice in Wonderland. She has a tie to all of the all of the plant life, and like Riddle her odd rules. Tinker fairy ties into Disney lore for fairies like Tinkerbell. They build and craft things, leading to her building her queendom. 

Scar is a sphinx just like his descendents, but he has Nemean Lion mixed in making him so much stronger and near invincible. 

Ursula was born a simple Cecaelia but through hard work and magical practice she became a Scylla. So big and so terrifying that no one dared challenge her kingdom.

Jafar on the other hand, had to hide his Basalik lineage for a while, as many still saw them as wild beasts. He proved to his people that while they had deadly abilities beyond that of their naga cousins, they could be just as amiable as the other snakes.

Grimhilde is a raven harpy, with feathers so black they make the night sky look grey. But when you look closely you see a rainbow of colors as her feathers shine like jewels. While most can not tell of her banshee ancestry by appearance she is said to have  fought of invaders with her deathly wail. Her people still called her fairest of all after seeing her old hag form for she was beautiful no matter the appearance.

Hades is like Scar, he matches his descendants, but he was more. On top of being a will-o-wisp he was a powerful fire fae, some think maybe even an infernal. His fires blazed so hot that he is said to have melted an entire army.

Maleficent’s a dragon fae like normal, but I also added Celestial fae. Said to be born of the new moon she holds a great relationship with the night. Some even say she was the first nocturnal fae to have woken from the wild.

[error4343]

Questions

CW: gore & blood It all will end where it began - at Snake Meadow Hill Church Love letter for @zzoupz John loves you AU

Don't be afraid, preacher. I hear His voice loud and clear now. He's welcoming you. And so do I. It's our last opportunity to talk before my Ascension. So ask, don't make Him wait

What you want to ask about?

John You don't recognise my face, Miller? I'm John Thomas Ward, a servant of His, just like you. I condemned myself to God since young age and, under guidance of father Garcia, learned true ways of preaching and serving His will. I was priest of false church before you, cowards, threw me away from God's home. But I hold no anger.

Snake Meadow Hill Church Too predictable, isn't it? Sentimental even. I was thinking the same when we moved here. Still, this place more fitting than anything: it's cradle of my own faith.

What you want to ask about?

Horned twins Ah, will-o-wisps. You're not the first whom they brought here. My apologize if they caused you any trouble. I couldn't deny them their fun.

"Him" I see. You forgot for whom you've been praying to. Don't be ashamed: you're not the first or last one to went astray. Recall: Him is above, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. If only you weren't so afraid, you would hear His voice though mine.

What you want to ask about?

Lisa Pearson Made not for caring His will on her shoulders, but for guide us towards it. A sinless lamb, iconographer, send to us long ago even before I knew my destiny. She was closer to absolute pureness that anyone of us could get. She was the one whom Initiation you interrupted, but it doesn't metter now. Everything went according to plan. She's with Him now, speaking with us from above.

The Ascension The Ascension isn't some bloody mess as you describe in church guidelines. It's delicate, precise process of hard work. And in the end - He grands His blessing. Firstly, one must clean themselves from any sin. For each sin there's way of redemption. Not just penance: for pride, lust and warth - mortification of flesh, for greed - poverty of monkhood, for envy - condemnation to another, for gluttony - everlasting fest, for sloth - work. Cleaning can take years… But you will know when you're ready.

Then comes the Ascension. No need to describe - you about to witness it. Participate, even.

Oh, how nice of you were to visit us today.

[lvmimis]

cw: horror. body horror.

The crunch of bone and sickening squish of blood and gristle layer over the sound of his laughter, usually so sweet but recontextualized in this darkness as terrifying, ghastly even, just as much as it's out of place.

Yet you remain frozen in shock, unable to move an inch. Not to run away, and definitely not to stop him, and how could you? In fact, you’re thankful Luffy has his back turned right now, hunched over his feast, and you tell yourself it’s adrenaline that keeps your feet planted in this position right now, stuck like glue, rather than the imposition of his will. 

You continue to watch, ineffectually, and impromptu dinner has started squirming less and less as time has passed, save for weak twitches of bruised legs and battered arms, unable to effect any real movement. The thought of escape has long disappeared, perhaps from the moment of that garish grin of his spread across his face, and boiling blood started to pump into his veins.

Hunting is so much fun, particularly if you’re good at it.

He’s told you this just a few times, just another musing amongst the many he entrusts you with in the early mornings as he holds your hand, demanding time alone to walk the shores of the beach, or in the late nights, once both of your more primal appetites have been sated.

Your love who finds joys in the small things can oft have interesting ideas of what fun entails, and perhaps in your heart of hearts you may disagree here, but he is stubborn to a fault and better off happy than upset in any way.

Perhaps if he were malicious, this would all feel a little less strange, you wonder.

You can practically see a shiver run down his back as he enjoys himself, lips smacking and tongue slurping, and perhaps if you were not afraid to move any closer you would thump him on the shoulders and remind him to breathe to not choke as he scarfs everything down. Instead, you watch, hoping that it’ll be over soon, and not much will remain for you to look at. Hopefully he cleans up after himself.

But he’s sensed your presence a while ago.

“Oh!”

Turning to look at you, swirled wisps of smoky white clouds both surrounding him like a halo and sprouting from his scalp, even the very brows on his face untainted by the blood smeared all over face, he grins widely, meat and flesh stuck between his teeth.

“Did you want any?”

In a move that makes your stomach turn, he yanks a lower limb from the trunk right at the joint, with the kind of effort you’d expect separating a slow-cooked lamb shank that’s falling off the bone. You’d prefer that. You’ve never been a picky eater, and have had your share of strange meat, but the shape of that piece is too intact, too familiar.

“I saved the best part for you,” he grins. The fact that he’s proud of himself practically makes his blood scarlet eyes glow.

You don’t think you can say yes, but you also cannot say no. Willing yourself with as much courage as possible, you take a step forward, then another, until you’re standing right next to his crouched form.

You try not to look at the leftovers.

“I’m not hungry, Luffy,” you say, sweetly. He looks at you, tilts his head, then shrugs.

“More for me, I guess.”

You lower yourself gently until you’re sitting crosslegged on the blood-dampened soil. The thick smell of iron disgusts you, but as you let your head rest on Luffy’s shoulder, the smoke hagoromo engulfs you and dulls your senses just enough. 

“Maybe next time,” you mutter under your breath, and he hums in pleased assent.

[theswordmaiden]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐈'𝐝 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader

A poor angel finds themselves perched on the devil's lap.. what could go wrong?

∙ CW / Mentions: NSFW, fingering, thigh riding, slight degrading/praise if you squint, brief blasphemy? pet names, power dynamics I suppose

∙ Word Count: 2.5k | ao3 link in title

The Lightbringer's hand tightened possessively around your waist, leaving the faint outline of a bruise in its wake — one you'd wear proudly for such devotion. A subtle reminder of who you belonged to, of who owned you, and it was a reminder that you greedily welcomed, relishing in the feeling of being theirs. 

As they mindlessly traced patterns down your body, you couldn't help but shiver from the intimacy of their touch, the familiarity it felt to have their warm fingertips against your cool skin — fingertips molding against you like clay, leaving the faint tingling sensation that nipped at your flesh whenever they pulled away.

Allowing their touch to continue to roam, now crawling up your abdomen, nails scratching against the softness of your stomach, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps in their wake that left you shivering. Lucifer's hands now cup your breasts, kneading and molding them to their touch, a low moan escaping from your lips as you pressed yourself closer to them, a silent plea for more.

As their thumbs traced slow, lazy circles over your hardening nipples, your breath caught in your throat. Trying to suppress any further noises, you tilted your head to the side, sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh of your bottom lip as they continued their torturous teasing. "What's wrong, my lamb?" They'd coo in faux concern against one of your ears, letting their hot breath ghost down the side of your throat, leaving your skin prickled with goosebumps in its wake. The Devil knew exactly where and how to touch you, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy, allowing you to feel Heaven's call to you with open arms, to welcome you back. . . only to hold you there, teasingly, never allowing you inside the gates of release until they deemed you worthy of such a feat. 

Of course, they'd indulge in your pleasures from time to time, which was how you found yourself in your current predicament; Lucifer sat on their throne, the flickering flames that lined the hall giving them a false halo framed above their head, as you — their most prized possession, the sweetest angel so obediently eager to please your Lord — were perched on top of their lap, grinding your needy cunt against one of their thighs.

"Please," came your pleading voice, heavy with an insatiable thirst of desire, as your head fell backwards against their shoulder, fitting perfectly into the crook they so perfectly provided.

"Hm? Please what, my pretty pet?" they asked with a soft hum, amusement twinkling within their eyes as they peered down at you through long blonde lashes that wisped against the soft pinkness of their cheeks. Lucifer pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing your back against their chest. "Tell me what it is you desire, angel." 

"Please, your Majesty," you'd beg once more, desperate for their touch and the release only they could provide you, that only they could give you. ". . need your touch." Your voice, so full of yearning and longing, so pathetic yet perfect to please your Devilish master.

The Lightbringer chuckled darkly in a twisted mix of pleasure and power, reveling in how easily you fell into submission for them. They lifted a hand to the side of your face and traced the back of their knuckles down your cheek gently before roughly gripping the sides of your chin and jerking your head back to meet their gaze. A quiet mewl drew from the depths of your throat at the action, leaving your clit throbbing as your hips continued to eagerly move against them, desperate to seek friction to relieve the ache.

"Look at you," Lucifer taunted, their gaze roaming down every inch of your covered form and back up again. As the Devil's arm unraveled their hold, their hand now found its way to your hip, guiding your movements back and forth into their lap at their own desired pace. "Spread apart for the Ruler of Hell," they sneered. "How desperate are you, silly angel? Such a pathetic pet, so willing to please your Lord."

The hand that was gripping your chin relinquished you, once again turning gentle as their fingertips slowly brushed through your hair, tucking away any loose strands that were impeding their access to your skin. "Does it feel good, you dirty little thing?" they whispered so softly, lips ghosting across the shell of your ear and moving to the newly exposed flesh of your throat. “To be the only one I’d ever worship?”

Lucifer's chest rumbled with a low growl as they scraped their sharp teeth against the pulse point, sinking into the flesh and sucking on it harshly. Marking you—Claiming you as theirs. Their perfect pet, such a desperate thing you were, weren't you? So pathetic that your hips rolled faster against their flexed thigh as you whimpered in response to their bite, a muffled 'God, yes' pulling from your throat in response to their question as you moaned. . .

. . . only to earn an amused huff from the Demon Lord as they pulled away, leaving behind a mark that they soothed with a soft and tender kiss. "God?" they repeated, the word dripping with bitterness as it rolled off their sharp tongue. "Aren't you just a good little angel, still having faith in Him.."

They leaned in close to your ear once more and whispered, "Tell me, my beautiful lamb. . Do you still pray to him while I play with your needy hole? Do you hope that He and your angel brethren watch as I make you cum over and over again on my just fingers alone?"

Your cheeks burned at the Devil's words, a mixture of shame and arousal washing over you while you squirmed in their lap, brows pinched together as you bit your bottom lip. There was certainly some truth to it, there was no denying that — just as there was no denying how depraved you felt at the thought of Him watching, to see just how low you've truly fallen for your lover. How your stomach fluttered at just the thought of riding their fingers, the walls of your cunt greedily pulsating around their lithe digits, wanting to milk the sensation as long as you could. .

..oh, patience is a virtue, little one. . .

But as the Lightbringer continues to tease you, their touch lowering to the bottom of that pristine white toga adorned on your body, grasping at the hem and gently pulling it up to bunch at your waist, all rational thoughts fled from your mind. All you could think of was them. Their touch, taste, smell — oh, it drove you mad with lust and desire. The throbbing heat between your plush thighs grew, and you were sure, no, absolutely positive, that your underwear was entirely ruined. 

Thinking you've had enough of the torture for now... Lucifer's hands slowly trailed back up your body until they reached your chest once more, squeezing your breasts through the thin silk fabrics that covered them. "Such a sensitive little thing," they cooed, pinching and rolling your nipples between their thumb and forefingers for a moment before releasing. Sliding back down your stomach, their hands then move your legs further apart, nails scratching against the material of your panties before sliding beneath it and through the soft curls of your mound until finally reaching your wet slit. 

"Oh, my poor pet," Lucifer purred in delight, enjoying the way you trembled against their touch, causing their leather wings to twitch and flutter proudly behind them on their throne, "you're soaked."

Two fingers swipe between your folds, pulling away just before reaching your swollen clit. As you whined in displeasure, earning a tut from the Devil, they brought their hand up to inspect their fingers — your arousal webbed in between, glistening. They turned to face you, bringing their hand closer to your lips.

"Open your mouth." Your mouth instantly falls open before the two digits now pressed against the velvety texture of your tongue, slowly curling downwards. Without needing further instructions, you happily wrapped your lips around the entirety of them and sucked the tangy taste of yourself off of them, tongue swirling around.

And if you were to peer up at your lover, you'd find the Devil watching eagerly with darkened eyes, a slight twitching just beneath the scar of their lip as a rumbling growl escaped from in between them. They slowly pulled back after a moment, a web of your spit connected from their flesh and your lips, more than satisfied with your obedient nature, now wiping the back of their fingers across your face to rid of your saliva before moving to your clothing.

"I want you to watch, sweet one.." their voice husked against your ear, the darkness of their gaze lowering to your chest as careful hands remove the straps of your toga and unfasten the golden belt, allowing it to cascade down your form like water to gather into a pile of silks on the ground. "..the way I touch my beloved pet." Two long fingers hook around the band of your panties and pull them down with ease, exposing your already pulsating cunt to the warmth of the Underworld's air.

Your hips bucked against the palm of their hand as it returned to your heat, the palm pressed deliciously against your clit as their slender digits spread apart your folds, tracing the tips of their fingers around your entrance and a pathetic whine escaping from your throat that left the Lightbringer chuckling. 

"I love to hear how desperate my little lamb gets for my touch," they coo in the sickly sweet voice that leaves your face warm and a hue of pink blooming across the apples of your cheeks. "Look at how wet you are for me, I've hardly touched you." The Devil spoke so softly against your ear, pressing lazy kisses against the shell of it as they dipped the entirety of their fingers into you with ease, growling as they felt your walls fluttering around them. 

"I could spend eternity between these legs, my darling creature."

Lucifer's other hand reached up to return to playing with your nipples, rolling the taut buds before giving them a sharp pinch. Their name spilled from your lips as they began to move their fingers in and out, curling it into the spongy sweet spot that left you growing wetter — the sopping wet noises from between your thighs only spurred your Devil further, their pace growing a bit faster while their thumb stretched out to rub tight circles to your clit.

The way they toyed with you only made you more desperate to chase the taste of release, and -you ever so obediently- spread your legs as wide as you could for them. Lucifer purred in delight as they whispered soft nothings into your ear, once or twice pulling their fingers out of you entirely to deliver a quick slap! to your cunt before returning their fingers to where they belonged with a newfound vigor.

“Such a beautiful sight.” “You take it so well. . Like you were created just for me.” “Who does this belong to?” “That’s right. Mine.”

The fire in your body grew as Lucifer's fingers thrust in and out of you with ease, dripping desperately down the length of their fingers and your own thighs. Every touch, every whispered word, sent jolts through your body, building the already growing desire to cum for them higher and higher; always pushing you to the edge before pulling away when you spasmed too much, giving you a minute to cool down before returning right back to relentlessly tormenting the aching Heaven between your thighs. They'd chuckle at each of your mumbled words of protests, only to shut you up by returning to rub against your swollen clit.

"Luci-oh! Please. . ple- please," your poor little mind was too lost in your daze to form a coherent thought, eyes clouded over by a fog of pure pleasure as you mindlessly babbled. "Let me cum, please- please, my Lord." Your body - hell, your entire soul - sang with desire for them to the point it was almost overwhelming, tears building up in your eyes as they oh so cruelly denied such a blissful state to flood you. . 

Lucifer could only chuckle, feeling their lips curling into a smirk at the sight of you, quivering and clenching around them. The hand that had been playing with your breasts slid up to gently wrap their fingers around your throat, applying just enough pressure to silently bring your attention to them. "Such a needy thing, aren't you?" they spoke gently, leaning in close so their hot breath fanned across the side of your face. Another squeeze, though slightly tighter, as if demanding a response.

"Yes.. my- my Lord," you somehow managed to form out through the tightness in your throat. "Please.. ah- let me cum," you continued to beg, unable to take the edging much longer.

"Cum for me," Lucifer spoke through ragged breath. "Show me just how much you need me." And with those words, their hand loosened from your throat and held your hip instead, leaving an indent to the flesh, as their fingers grew into a relentless pace. Your body writhed against them, arching off from their chest as your mouth fell open, the most unforgiving of obscenities spewing from your tongue as you ground harder against their hand.  

With one final curl of their fingers that hit the most delectable spot, your orgasm crashed over you. Your entire body shook and trembled as you tightened around them. The Devil slowed their pace to allow you to ride out your high as every nerve grew hot with pleasure until you were nothing but a quivering mess in their arms. 

Your legs — still twitching and now aching from the prolonged position, covered in a light blanket of perspiration — fell limp against Lucifer, dangling over the length of their legs, and you collapsed back into them. Carefully, their fingers withdrew from your slick heat once your breathing evened out, licking their fingers clean before wrapping a wing around you to keep you close. Reassuring praise and hums left their lips as they kissed and pecked at your cheek and down to your shoulder.

"Sh, shh, my darling," Lucifer cooed, gazing down at you with a soft smile as they took in your tired expression. "Such a good girl for me, weren't you? Hm?" You could feel their warm lips against your skin, both soothing and comforting, as you gave a quiet hum in response while you basked in the afterglow from your climax.

As your head rested against their chest, feeling the steady beating of their heart beneath your ear, they continued to hold you, slowly running their fingers through your hair, the sensation making your eyes grow heavier until inevitably falling shut. They'd hold you like this until you woke, only to repeat it all over again for the rest of eternity.

. . . Though, who would complain?

─────⋅⋆.‧₊☆₊‧.⋅⋆─────────⋅⋆.‧₊☽₊‧.⋅⋆─────────⋅⋆.‧₊☆₊‧.⋅⋆─────

This is sick and I need to be put down. Immediately. Sorry this is horrible; it's been a while. You can tell where I got burnt out at the end lol. This was my first time writing for Lucifer.

Updated Apr. 2025, I think I corrected the mistakes I hadn't noticed before.