#also I need to figure out how to draw bishop

[wormspoodle]

more 2003 tmnt doodles

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 12

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

Series Masterlist

Three years. Three years was all you got with James Montclair before he unexpectedly died from a heart attack. You two had so much you wanted to do together. You wanted to travel the world and start a family.

All of those dreams came to an unexpected halt and you felt so broken and empty.

James was your savior, salvation. Lover and friend. He was supposed to be there with you forever and this is what became of him? It's not fair. How could someone so sweet, passionate, and understanding like James succumb to such a sudden death? You don't understand it.

After the bishop says a final prayer and James' coffin lowers to the ground, you and James' mother hold each other tight, crying into each other's arms.

You, James' mother, and his father, stay as friends and family bid you prayers, sorrows, and well wishes.

When Violet Bridgerton and her family come up next, you toss all propriety to the side. You throw yourselves at the older woman you saw as another mother figure. She gasps as she holds you, her heart breaking for she knows all too well how it feels to unexpectedly lose a husband.

"I know, sweet girl. I know it hurts. Let it all out."

The Bridgertons stand silently in solemn. All of their hearts clenching at the sight of you. You are their dear friend and they all hurt to see you so crestfallen.

But the one most broken of all stands furthest back from his siblings. Practically hiding behind his eldest brother, Benedict Bridgerton watches as you sob into his mother's arms.

He never wished for you to be in the same position similar to his mother's. To lose one's love and dearest friend, he saw how it affected his mother for years. Sure, his mother is happy now, but that was well long after his father's passing.

His concern grows for you. He hopes you don't fall into a deep depression and sadness. He felt helpless when his mother was going through it. He refuses to feel the same now with you.

With a sudden swell of courage and compassion, he pushes his way to the front of his siblings. All of which are too happy to let their brother through so confront you.

After minutes pass, you pull back from Violet and immediately spot Benedict.

"Ben," you say his name breathlessly before you hurl yourself towards him. He quickly catches you, wrapping his arms around you, tight.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispers as he holds you and you hold him.

"Thank you for coming," you whisper back.

Violet quickly gathers her children, herding them inside the Montclair estate where James' parents reside. Everyone leaving you and Benedict be.

A part of Benedict feels odd to be embracing you like this in front of your husband's grave. But you're hurting and need comfort, and that's the priority right now. You're the priority.

____________________

"Perhaps, it would be good for you to live with us for some time," James' mother, Clarissa, says once the guests start dwindling down. Benedict had left to fetch you a beverage. He hadn't left your side for hours.

You sigh, looking down at your black dress, "Won't I be intruding?"

"Darling, you are family now. You could never intrude. This is your home now too."

"It's customary for the mourning period to be twelve months. In that time, it's best to be surrounded by your family for support," Violet says as she sits across from you in the drawing room.

"It is also customary to pause social obligations for a short time while you mourn," James' father, Jean Louis, adds, "Which I'm sure you're relieved about," he gives you a teasing wink.

You give a little chuckle, "Yes. James and I weren't very fond of all the balls and dinner parties. At least, I will get some reprieve from that."

Clarissa sadly smiles at the mention of her only son and child, "Yes, he never did like attending those. Having you by his side made them bearable, according to him."

"I felt the same," you let out a deep breath, "I think I will call it night here, if I may?" you look to your mother and father-in-law.

"Of course, cheri. Go rest," Clarissa stands and kisses your cheek. Jean Louis kisses your head.

Benedict comes back with two glasses in hand and a furrowed brow, "Are you alright?"

"I am feeling quite exhausted so I will be going to bed," you respond.

He nods in understanding, "Alright. I...If you need anything, write to me. I will be here in an instant."

"Promise?" you look at him hopefully.

"Promise."

"Thank you, Ben."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight," you respond and nod to Violet before exiting the room.

Violet stands, "I believe that is our sign to leave as well."

"Thank you, Lady Bridgerton, to you and your family for coming today. It means a great deal to us."

The Dowager Viscountess softly smiles, "Yes, well, Y/N has always been a dear friend to our family. James became dear to us as well after they married. We cared for him, dearly. We are here should you ever need us, Lady Montclair."

"We very much appreciate it," Jean Louis says. He gestures for the Bridgerton family to step out first, he and his wife following behind.

_______________________

A part of you thought that Benedict was being nice when he said you could write him. The thought of writing letters to him again only for them to go unread scared you. But it was a particularly rough day. A week after James' passing, you were struggling to get through the day. You thought you were okay, but you were in the study reading and for a moment, you thought you saw James sitting at the desk, watching you with love in his eyes like he used to. But he wasn't.

That's when you decided to write to Benedict.

Dearest Ben,

I know you told me to write you if I ever needed anything. To be frank, I've been wanting to write you for several days now. However, I have been afraid to since for the past few years, I've written to you and I never received a letter back.

I hope you do read this letter. Whether it is due to pity or you do still care for me, it does not matter. Please, I beg you, just write back.

I need you more than ever right now.

While the Montclairs are kind, loving, and we all share the grief of losing James, I just need someone to distract me. To let me know that this pain won't be forever.

I desperately need your friendship, Benedict. This is all I ask.

Yours,

Y/N

_________________

After reading your letter, Benedict barges into Anthony's study startling Kate and Anthony.

"Brother," he says and nods to Kate, "Sister." He holds up your letter, "Y/N wrote to me begging for my friendship."

Kate and Anthony look at each other and then to Benedict, "I'm not sure what the issue is," Anthony says in confusion.

The Viscountess chuckles and shakes her head, "Dear husband, Benedict is obviously in distress because he is unsure of what the best plan of action is."

Benedict nods, "Yes. That's it," he fully faces his sister, "What do I do? You're still close to Y/N, yes?"

Kate closes the book she was reading and sits up in her chair, "I can't fully give you the extent of Y/N's thoughts and feelings towards you and the end of your friendship. However, I will say that since you cut off contact from her, she seemed to have lost her spark. Yes, she was still happy with the marquess, but you could tell that something was missing from her. She missed you a lot, Benedict."

Anthony slowly nods, "Yes, she didn't want you to leave her side at Montclair's funeral."

"She seemed more at ease after you approached her. Still mourning the death of her husband, yes, but happy you were there."

Benedict stands there contemplating Kate's words, "Do you think it's wise I pick up correspondence with her again?"

Kate shrugs, standing from her spot, "Doesn't matter what I think. All I know is that Y/N has missed your friendship, Benedict, and I know you feel the same." she gives her brother a reassuring pat on the arm before excusing herself from the room.

Benedict then looks to his eldest brother with an approving look, "I'm glad you married her, brother."

Anthony gives a proud, lovesick smile, "As am I."

[pillow-anime-talk]

his talented baby. {pt.2}

synopsis: You as a person with a huge (and hidden) talent, and also a person who really surprises your boyfriend.

# tags: scenarios; current relationships; romance; some comedy; big fluff; some PDA; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. sebastian michaelis & undertaker {kuroshitsuji} + josuke higashikata & rohan kishibe {jojo 4}

part one {click}

— SEBASTIAN (ft. chess)

Sebastian was perfect in everything; in cleaning, in cooking, in playing various instruments, in foreign languages, in gardening, even in singing and dancing. There was, however, one thing he couldn’t achieve fully well, and that was the game of chess.

Of course, he defeated others (I mean here; Grell, Agni, Bald or Finny) with ease, but when you offered him a game one day, his so far intact worldview changed dramatically. Eventually he found someone better than himself, but at the same time he felt so damn frustrated that he couldn’t win against your person. You were better than him, than Ciel, and even better than Mr. Tanaka, who was almost equal to him and the young lord.

“... Your move, Sebastian.” You announced by moving the bishop to the field of your choice, taking his black rook at the same time. “Are you going to give up, my love?” You smiled gently as you took a sip of delicious English tea with the perfect amount of sugar. The man looked at you in response, frowning and looking at the chess alignment after a short while.

“No. Everything is fine, I just need to think for a moment.” He said calmly, though his face expression seemed to hide the urge to swear. “I am impressed with how quickly you made such a confusing setup, darling.”

“Well, well. My grandpa taught me to play. As the saying goes, the student has surpassed the master.” You chuckled as you put your chin on your right hand while looking at the fingers of your man surrounded by white gloves, who decided to move the king to space F5. “Maybe someday you will surpass me, who knows?”

Sebastian stared at you out of the corner of his eye, nodding in delicate, almost invisible amusement.

“Maybe someday, dear. For now, I will give you the honorable title of the best chess player.”

— UNDERTAKER (ft. drawing)

Drawing has been your passion since you remember and you loved to paint literally everything; still life, nature, huge landscapes, other people, animals, and even things that didn’t make much sense (Picasso was one of your biggest inspirations when it came to cubism). In addition, in your bag you always carried your favorite blue sketchbook in which you drew tiny thoughts or things you noticed while walking, working or drinking coffee in a cafe.

That day, however, you were sitting quietly on one of the chairs in the funeral parlor, and the Undertaker was also sitting nearby – he was writing names with concentration, calculating in his mind the number of deaths in the last month and year.

His calm face was really handsome from your perspective; the faint light of the lantern caressed his pale complexion, and his green eyes full of mischief stood out behind his fair hair. Every now and then you glanced at the tall man, then your eyes focused again on the small notebook whose pages were blank. I mean, they were not all empty; some of them had sketches of dogs on them, others sketches of flowers, and others featured the figure of a tall Grim Reaper.

When you finished your illustration, you smiled and nodded, satisfied with your work. A beautiful play of light, self-confident pencil strokes and small additions in the form of ivy and rosemary beautifully composed the whole black-grey picture of Adrian.

“Excause me, darling...?” You whispered hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt his work. Nevertheless, the man quickly looked in your direction and a wide smile appeared on his face.

“Yes, my little flower.” He asked, instantly standing up and forgetting about the paperwork – you were definitely more interesting than the dead, after all. You showed him your drawing with a slight blush on your face and he opened his mouth in slight shock. “It’s me?” You nodded, and the Grim Reaper just chuckled. “Am I really THAT handsome?” He joked and you just rolled your both eyes. A short time later, Undertaker praised your talent, asking if you’d like to hang some of your sketches on the board next to the entrance.

— JOSUKE (ft. playing drums)

More than five years ago, you and your three friends started a music band. Since then, you’ve been focused on making your dreams come true, on small concerts played in the Morioh, on school performances, also on learning notes and practicing singing. You were the drummer and leader of ‘CR△WL’; your vast musical knowledge, willingness to develop your passion and daily rehearsals aroused great admiration from the rest of the band and from people who watched your slowly growing career. Of course, Josuke was no exception, on the contrary – he considered himself your biggest and most faithful fan, who with the greatest pleasure went on dates with you to music shops or bookstores with records of old bands.

The young man was delighted every time you played the instrument – just like years ago in your garage when you first played ‘Paranoid’ by Black Sabbath for him. He was smitten and would come over to your house to listen to your covers or help you make a video for your YouTube channel (you were pretty popular for tutorials, trivia, and drum videos).

“...Y/N, Y/N. Would you be able to play this song?”

That day, Josuke visited your house once again. Your mom made you two some snacks, and you grinned as you practiced another song for an upcoming concert at one of the smaller festivals this summer. Your boyfriend seemed to be excited like never before, so you asked what is the title of mentioned song. Hearing the familiar words, you just smiled, nodding your head in response.

Instantly, your both hands and right foot began to beat the drums, which making the dark-haired teenager’s face look very surprised.

“Y/N... You really know every song on this planet!”

— ROHAN (ft. rapping)

Karaoke, bowls full of ice cream and fruit, carbonated drinks, hot snacks and great company were what you’ve been missing for the last few weeks. Focused on studies and work, you didn’t have time to rest properly; but you finally met with your closest friends and you also took Rohan with you.

You had a great time gossip with besties who talked about changes in their lives and new achievements, for example, at work. You were telling about your experiences as well with a huge smile, while Rohan was sitting right next to you, talking to some people from time to time. He wasn’t interested in large gatherings, but he couldn’t say ‘No’ to you either because you were too sweet that evening.

Suddenly, one of Cardi B’s songs was played in the background and you almost squealed.

“Ooooh, I see that someone want to sing, huh?” The blonde haired girl asked, and you just laughed, thanking her for the black microphone.

Rohan almost spit at his new shirt as soon as you started rapping the verses without any problems, without even looking at the screen where the lyrics were displayed. You had a great time dancing a bit in the middle of the small room. You looked at your partner with a smirk, sometimes sending a kiss or wink in his direction. You were literally in your world; you showing your energy and love for music so perfectly.

Rohan was really surprised.

[doppel-doodles]

Since everyone is making their own little version of the characters I thought I would join the fun for my Fallen crown Au! These were supposed to be quick little sketches just to get some ideas down but they still took me the whole day:'D will probably change as I draw them but I wanted at least something down on for the time being and I do like how most turned out!

Single versions plus some info and ramblings about each under cut for those interested:

My lamb was mainly based on both, yes the actual player character but also the vibes of my own plathrough which were very "oh god who let this child be in charge?-" while I'll still mostly just call them Lamb I figured they should still have a proper name so I went with my friends @/tamaruaart suggestion as it suits them rather nicely! And most note worthy detail is honestly just the fact that they carry something from each bishops realm on their person now, I like to think they treat those items like little trophies:>

Narinder is probably my weakest I feel like, he definitely needs something to give him some extra "ompf!". I basically made his undertaker fit a sorta reverse or at least loosely inspired by his white robes in game. I imagine he is very boney or a straight up skeleton underneath so he covers it all up beneath heavy fabrics, but because I lack subtly I still covered him in bones regardless-

And yea I kept the veil cause 1. It's a look and 2. It coviently covers up his now sewn shut third eye.

There wasn't much reason behind making him an undertaker, I simply thought it suited him, when your the former god of death you aren't exactly squeamish around corpses. Lastly the dark blues are there to contrast the other followers warm tones, as they kinda seen him as an outcast which is just fine for narinder he isnt exactly thrilled to be here.

I'll put Leshy and Heket together as they were sorta designed as a set.Since they are both youngest among the bishops I sorta latched onto the headcanon that they get along pretty well and just stick together after getting into the cult so they just share a lot of their duties. So I gave them some matching elements like the puffy shorts but also stuff that contrasts like Leshy having looser clothing and Hekets being more tight. Or Heket getting working gloves with a little belt to hold tools plus a hat for the sun, meanwhile Leshy will happily dig through the dirt bare clawed in the sun for hours-

I debated on giving Heket an apron but honestly I think she would only wear one while cooking or tending the farm plots there is no reason for her to wear it casually, the gloves though stay for I reason I utterly love because its PETTY-

Literally the only reason she keeps them on almost constantly is because when the lamb asks she can be like "ew, I'm not touching you with my bare hands." Yes, my humour is broken moving on-

I also gave Leshy a cane just so he actually has something to feel around with when he is areas he isn't too familiar with so he isn't running into crap- on that note, Heket can speak a bit but not exactly loud or for a very long time without seriously hurting her throat, once I properly learn it I definitely wanna draw her using sign language.

Lastly bodies, Leshy was based off a previous drawing I made of him in bishop form, I simply made it less monsterous but he is in charge of chaos so he had to remain a creature- Heket is more straight forward, she is a frog and she is large and in charge.

There was one reason why I made Shamura a tailor and that was the mental image of them sewing the bishops clothes when they were younger and dressing them up all cute.

I went for more pink colors mainly because I thought it better suited the purple and would make their red eyes pop! Honestly I really love their colors they remind me of a Berry! I've drawn shamura before but honestly the only things that stuck were the colors,face and then also the hand markings I did tweak their eyes a bit I wanted something more stern feeling.

For clothing I kept everything nice and loose, while they are the tailor I also love the idea that in their spare time they either teach the youths in the cult or are like the champion of the fighting pit because war is also their domain and they can be- so I wanted them dressed pretty comfy to deal with whatever may come! But still keep everything pretty mature and mildly fancy maybe in the future I'll do some fancy gold and silver embroidery to the pants because of that.

As for body type I wanted them to be pretty thin but unlike Narinder who is twink material under his cloak they have a bit more bulk on top to show that they can choose violence if they so wish-

I adore me some pathetic but still serving men, honestly except for the cross on his belt I completely ignored the fact I made him a medic- If he needs to treat something gross he can throw something over to protect his clothes but just like Heket there is no reason for him to wear that while not working.

Otherwise my main goal was simply to make Kalamar look pretty and fancy. I debated on either short or long bottoms until I realized I'd have to figure out his tentacle situation, then realized I don't hate myself THAT MUCH so bro got put into a floor length gown, work smarter not harder kids.

If I have an excuse to give a character a shawl I will take it so fast.

His body type I mainly wanted to flesh out the roster so I tried making him very squishy and huggable looking, I debated on thinner so he looked more dangly and stretchy but that made him kinda to similar to Narinders build for my liking.

[alfiely-art]

Body hcs for the bishops + Narinder once they become followers, nakey but they have a leaf covering their bits so it's okay!!! Thank you COTL for giving an effective censor bar

I'll put it under the cut just in case since its.... sort of nsfw? Idk I just wanted to draw Heket and ended up drawing them all....

I saw someone draw Heket like a literal hourglass and felt the need to draw the truth. The only hourglass here is Kallamar. He's the skinny white boy who looks like Chicken Little. To me. He's only an hourglass because he has so many legs I think he like... slithers..... or he walks like Squidward

Anyways I think the bishops bodies would've had scars and such from their countless battles with the Lamb, even after becoming mortal. Leshy gets chips and cuts in his wooden bits instead of scars. Also Shamura has eight limbs I swear I just couldn't figure out how to position them all. They're there. I promise

[raidoesthings]

I’d figure I do a mix of an anniversary post and a post to commemorate the release of Unholy Alliance!

So have all these artworks and also talks of the sheep and goat’s cults!

The Red Crown Cult (later named Sanctuary of the Souls)

Formerly a cult made in the name of The One Who Waits, but it gradually set itself apart from its original purpose. The day that the one below betrayed his vessel sealed the deal, and the cult treated Lambert as their leader ever since his defeat. Lambert leads it with a watchful and gentle eye. The former bishops have taken the roles of Lambert’s priests, aiding in helping the cult. Agares, Astaroth, and Bathin have been appointed as rangers of the cult, overseeing the other realms and protecting them from harm. Allocer had chosen to rest on his own, a decision respected, though strangely, he hasn’t been seen since….

The cult has a firm belief in living life to the fullest, therefore murder and sacrifice are prohibited. Any who even attempt to participate in such will be promptly kicked out. Menticide and fights to death are also prohibited. Alcohol can be served from the bar, though it is regulated to prevent brutal fights. Cultists are encouraged to train using weapons and magic to learn to defend themselves, and fighting areas are supervised by those skilled in weaponry.

They believe that sacrificing a life isn’t worth it, but perhaps it isn’t so simple…

Stalkers of the Lotus

During the Crimson Eclipse (events of FDS), the goat set out after breaking free from captivity. He eventually found a few stray Old Faith cultists seeking shelter. Kuole agreed to help them in exchange for their loyalty, and the deal was set. Kuole eventually found a perfect spot for his cult, a clearing in the forest hidden by various untainted trees and bushes. As the lands were returning back to normal, Kuole secretly ventured and gained supplies, along with the occasional new follower or two. The cult grows slowly but steadily.

They heavily believe in sacrifice, however, they do not shed more blood than they need to. Since Kuole’s cult is small, more than one would just be a waste of blood. For the time being, Kuole only has one sacrifice per month. Nothing more, nothing less. The only exception to this rule is dealing with dissenters, as depending on how severe they dissent, they will promptly be sacrificed, and their remains will be repurposed in rituals.

They believe that sacrifices must be made, but perhaps it doesn’t always have to be that way…

(And as a bonus to top it off, have a drawing based on the Pilgrim comic!)

[quietbrushstrokes]

I present to you: My babies! This is an alternate universe in which instead of narinder being the one who waits, It’s leshy !

Leshy is the bishop of chaos. With a name like The Bishop of Chaos you’d think he’d cause some, no? Well, In this universe, he does.

He causes so much, in fact, that his siblings chain him up in purgatory. Narinder had proposed death as a solution, but Shamura shut his idea down fast.

‘How could we kill our own brother?’

Wrong choice, Shamura.

Or maybe, right choice?

Now, employing the help of the last llama, he intends to regain control of not only dark wood, but every other realm. While causing a little chaos, ofcource.

(Yes I know the llama has the crown and weapon out, it was for aesthetic reasons dammit)

More beyond the break If you want more details on the au ⬇️

Our llama, now tasked with assassinating all of the bishops, decides this path is not for her. She doesn’t want to kill them. But She doesn’t want to be killed either. She starts her cult. Through old tombs etched into stone in each bishop’s domain, She learns the past of the bishops. Each bishop was born for good, Narinder the bishop of life, Heket the bishop of harvest, Kalamar the bishop of health, Shamura the bishop of peace. Each one turning to evil. Narinder the bishop of death, Heket the bishop of famine, Kalamar the bishop of Pestulance, Shamura the bishop of war.

Leshy’s tomb is etched out, and unreadable, but there are fragments of words. Chaos and order being the only readable words.

She knew what she had to do.

She meets with ???, the mystic seller, who informs her that to reform a bishop, you need god tears, but they must be defeated first. And be willing.

One by one, she takes down the bishops, and invites them to stay at her cult. Each one declines, so she locks them in a small area of their domain. She visits daily, bringing food, water, and kind words. The bishops slowly warm up to her, and each one begins to slowly feel indifference to their old ways. She soon gets her hand on god tears, and begins reforming the bishops. One by one, she restores peace. Until Leshy. As the bishop of chaos, he has no want for order, for kindness. He was also betrayed by the llama, who used their own crown against him.

Durning this time, She finds out what’s truly up with leshy from the other bishops. He was never born for order, never born for good. He was born as a normal Darkwood worm, and found the crown. It gave him power like nothing else, and he loved it. He fought with the crown for more of its power, corrupting it with his greed, making himself the bishop of chaos.

This all culminates in a final Battle. All of the reformed bishops fight with the llama against Leshy, weakening him until they can get him to stop fighting. Once he is weakened, they show him how life could be. He submits, and is turned into the bishop of order, and his crown returned.

The llama, now without a crown, and no longer a bishop, has completed her journey. She knows she did the world a justice, and rejoices in the fact she reformed a world so set in its ways when they couldn’t see the wrong they had done.

….and that’s all I’ve got so far- I’m not sure if she dies, lives on as a normal mortal running her cult, maybe the bishops grant her immortality? I was also tossing around the idea that the bishops donate a bit of their power to create a crown for her, making her the bishop of something? Maybe the bishop of wisdom or perseverance or something? I never got that far.

I don’t know if I’ll continue this au, but I had this cooking in my brain soup, and figured I could pour out a bowl to sample. I might draw the reformed bishops later on if I get bored. This was fun to brainstorm though!

[the-one-who-lambs]

ok here's the essay

So. How much evidence is there that the Fanatic was the god of knowledge before Shamura? Not much. The game is deliberately vague on what exactly the Fanatic was the god of, but there's just enough crumbs to point in that direction. They tell the Lamb they are waiting for "one who values truth over all else" and in tablet II they pray to the Great Ones for understanding. They also give the Lamb the snake follower form; the serpent tempts Eve to eat from the tree of *knowledge* of good and evil, so the symbolism is there.

The smoking gun for me, though, is the early unused version of tablet X.

"I am shamed, shamed. I deserve no forgiveness. I deserve to die here, shrouded in sin. I renounced the First Gods. How easily pain made a defector of me. I will take whatever punishment is due, but I beg you, reader of these chronicles, remember: they call their faith old, but they are nothing more than heretics. He of havoc, he of blight; she of hunger, they of might. He that lays a soul to rest; five remain of hundreds blessed."

From there we can infer a few things:

The bishops obviously did Something to the Fanatic.

The Fanatic had to be tortured into going along with whatever that Something was. It wasn't just inflicted on them, their cooperation was needed somehow, possibly as part of a ritual or spell.

It didn't kill them. They even managed to get out one last tablet afterward.

We never find out what exactly it was; the Fanatic only describes it as having "renounced the First Gods".

By the time the story starts, the Fanatic isn't around anymore. We hear their voice but that's it.

We know that gods in the COTL universe canonically leave behind a "lingering presence". That lingering presence can persist even if the god loses the Crown and becomes a mortal, or even dies as a mortal; this is what happens with the bishops.

Tablet IX and the Offering to the Owl also heavily imply Haro was once a god of hunting, who willingly relinquished the title for unknown reasons. Maybe this is what the Fanatic meant by "the Owl has chosen a different tact"; giving up their proper godhood, leaving them with their weaker current form (notably, Haro's crown has a crossed-out eye, like it's "dead").

From Ancient Tablet IX: "[…] for regardless of what they threaten, I shall never relinquish my beliefs."

In tablet VIII, the Fanatic refers to their crown as "the blessing of the First at my brow". HMM.

In tablet VII we learn Shamura approached the Fanatic seeking their allegiance, but was turned away. HMMMMMMMMM.

IF, indeed, Shamura found a way to take domain over knowledge from its rightful owner, in addition to already having domain over war, that would add a whole new layer of thematic resonance to their story. The creators have said a big theme in COTL is that those who try to deviate from their nature are usually punished by the universe. Shamura getting greedy, claiming another god's domain in addition to their own, their newfound domain over knowledge leading them to encourage Narinder's experiments, and it all blowing up in their face catastrophically… their descent into madness makes a nice parallel with Chemach also

tl;dr: ITS REAL. I FIGURED IT OUT, ITS REAL, YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE M

This is SO interesting and I'm frying my brain trying to comprehend this in all its glory while I watch @linkerbell draw one of the most cursed images i've ever seen

OKAY BUT HARO GOD OF THE HUNT YEAH SHAKES HAND SHAKES HAND

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Meta: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Garlude: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Meta: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Jecra: edible

Jecra said something embarrassing... let's roast this man!

When first joining the squad... it took a while for Meta Knight to understand social cues or to figure out when people were joking. An important thing to note, this was before Meta Knight officially became leader of the squadron and was just currently supervising them for now.

He was still getting used to the squadron. This convo just seemed so in character with the dynamic I had to include so this comic. I'm still learning to draw the rest of them but this is it for now.

I've already introduced Perry and Avery; now it's time to introduce three others...

Sir Gregory: He's basically a fallen knight of a noble family... His father refused the cruel management of the nobleman he served. As the result, they were shamed and they could no longer work.

Gregory joined the war in hopes of restoring his family's honor. He speaks in this formal old English (that he's trying to get rid of) but tends to slip from time to time.

He has a thing for Avery, but she hasn't noticed yet... but she'd definitely be interested if she knew. ;3

Lady Marleen: Team Medic and basically the sweetheart of the group... known for healing magic and a vital asset of the group.

She originally worked in a clinic on her planet, but it was destroyed and joined the GSA as a result.

Lowkey is also the team therapist and generally has the most calming presence in the group... Meta Knight got the cape wrap-around thing from her. (That was always the coping mechanism she taught MK to calm him, down he still uses it....)

Sir Bishop: He's basically the team mechanic and was the go-to person if they ever needed to hot-wire a ship. He was working in a junkyard digging for scrap metal to make into weapons & ships to sell...

His brother was arrested by the GSA (for stealing equipment ) and volunteered to work in the army as collateral to replace the things his brother stole & to get him out quicker.

I'm trying to learn how to draw the rest of the gang... more on them soon! Stay tuned! (I'm giving so much characterization on characters that I know are going to die...) :')

[oxygenbefore1775]

stalemate

zeke x gn!reader

tags: fluffy suggestive stuff (as fluffy as it can get with zeke)

cw: suggestive (kisses and stuff), chess and a lot of it (there's gonna be some chess terms thrown around just for the show - no need to understand them to know what's going on), zeke being zeke (needy pos that is), coercion elements (very mild)

wc: 2.2k

summary: perhaps challenging zeke to a game of chess was a bad idea - so chivalrous of him to offer you his help to defeat him, though

a/n: don't perceive me, i barely understand the chess theory myself

Stalemate is a situation in chess where a player's king is not in check, but they have no legal moves left, resulting in a draw

Such a poise coming from someone whose lips were twisted in a shit-eating grin. Both annoyed you to no end already, slowly chipping away at your composed facade — but the combination of those two? You could already sense the steam escaping your ears. Truly, both of those opposites could only coincide in Zeke.

"Any moment now," his calm voice prompted you to make a move, although you had stalled for only ten minutes longer than expected.

It was ten minutes too long — considering your own knowledge in chess, you shouldn't find this so hard to navigate through this game. But you did. You bit on your lip as you stole a glance at Zeke before finally moving your bishop across the board. The challenge of the game was all courtesy of his.

All pleasure that you intended to find in this leisure game of chess with Zeke was nowhere to be seen now. Some mental exercise was always welcome but not at the expense of your own brain cells that ended up being fried in the unfolding mental gymnastics. Too bad it was only you who was laboring over each move.

He was a monster at chess. And just like one, he was tearing you to shreds.

Your lips curled into a malicious smirk, catching up on his hesitation.

But not this time.

Zeke quirked his brow at your choice of the move.

Finally, you got him in a predicament that he'd be forced to ponder over to search for the best solution. Spolier - there was none since the strategy you devised in such a short span of time was impeccable. He would have no other choice but to back down his attack and ultimately weaken his control of the board center. You couldn't help but to give yourself a mental pat on the shoulder as you imagined him losing more and more advantage in the game. Your careful planning would leave him totally crushed, utterly defeated, absolutely destroyed, unequivocally--

Zeke took your queen.

You had to lend a second look at the chess board to finally register that the queen, your queen, was indeed removed from the game by one of his rooks and lied by Zeke's side.

How could this have happened? Virtually nothing could predict this move happening in your mind. All the defenses that you've put up ended up being ultimately useless since Zeke easily slid one of his figures behind your line of defense. Good thing that you were thoughtful enough to do the castling earlier or else the king would also be endangered right now.

A glint of mild interest ignited in Zeke's eyes upon seeing you so distraught about the move that he spent maybe a minute contemplating. It just started to get fun for him.

"I hope that was intentional." The soft mockery in his tone puzzled you as your brows knitted together in confusion, prompting his explanation. "You letting me take your queen so easily? It better be the first step to the closing game or else it'd be pretty disappointing."

The tiny vein on your temple started pulsating with anger as you composed yourself.

"Just-- shut up."

Of course, you had no aces up your sleeves that would tip this miserable predicament into your favour. A fact he was well aware of.

Good thing he listened and indeed stopped riling you up even further. Another word out of his mouth and you would've skipped over the entire anger phase right over to tears.

It was your turn again. After being cornered up with his previous attack, you were all out of moves, let alone useful ones. In a desparate attempt to bring him back into the game as soon as possible, you opted for taking at least a bit of advantage back to your side.

Your hand already hovered over one of your pawns, ready to grab it, when you noticed Zeke's unbroken gaze on you. His pursed lips were a subtle sign of his disapproval, the silent one which was by far the worst one.

Frustrated, you threw your hands in front of yourself. "What?"

This in turn perplexed him. Dumbfounded by your sudden (and quite rude for his taste) inquiry, he looked at you in confusion, benevolence coloring his features in a halo-like light.

"Why-- why are you staring at me like that?" you had the courtesy to elaborate although your voice was bubbling with irritation.

"You were the one to tell me to shut up," unabashed he replied. "Can't I express my critique in some other way then?"

You were determined to prove all his attempts at annoying you futile. As if he wasn't already getting off of the fact that you were losing to him, flaunting his chess skills in the process.

"Alright." you asked calmly as you caved to give him the response he wanted. "What is your critique?"

With your permission granted (not that he cared for it that much), he took a second look at the chess board. This brief moment of scanning was of no use to him, admittedly - he knew what was wrong way before that.

"A pawn to b4? Quite unproductive, if you ask me."

"You just had to point that out." Completely devoid of witty remarks, you simply crossed your arms on your chest in meek retalliation. You pressed your lips tightly when they began to tremble.

For the first time during the game, his voice aquired a slightest hint of seriousness. As if a sudden bout of compassion had befallen him.

"Do you want to win that badly?" he tried to meet your gaze as he asked this question to gauge your honest reaction.

Who doesn't want to outsmart the Zeke Yeager? It'd be akin to David and Goliath situation, safe for the physical altercation followed by the lethal outcome. And this would certainly humble Zeke a bit, as he was known to get on your nerves, brandishing his intellectual exclusivity.

To your luck (or rather not), you were the only one vain enough to try and pull it off.

"Of course," you huffed under your breath. "But seeing as you bash me at every turn, there's no way."

This begrudgingly uttered confession returned the sly expression to Zeke's features — the one he's had for the duration of the game. The one that made you distrust his last question even more.

"Maybe I can help you to win this stupid little game," he began in an alluring tone, stroking his beard as if pondering his countless options of aiding you.

You, however, were not in the slightest bit amused nor intrigued.

"Really? Just like that?" your voice dripped with sarcasm, an eager response propmting him to finally reveal his real intentions.

There was no way for him change his mind all of the sudden. Zeke was never the one to go easy on you in all sorts of games - especially now as his imminent victory drew closer and he seemed to get a high at the expense of your frustration. What could possibly convince him to take pity on you now?

Turned out, you were not wrong in your suspicion.

"Of course not," his answer, as expected, didn't surprise you. "My assistance has a price."

You wanted to drop all of your defences and start giggling at the sight of his features dripping with triumph. His over-confident demeanor seemed almost childish sometimes.

"A price," you mocked, an amused smile tugged at your corners. He responded in kind, as if you both were in on the joke that was about to take place. "Ok, name it then."

if he's the one suggesting it, you'll go along with it. How bad can it be? Not that washing the dishes for the next week or taking charge of cooking would be all that burdensome - not that he does those chores regularly anyway.

Instead of responding verbally, Zeke gently tapped his finger against his cheek, as if directing your attention to the spot. Throughout the exchange, he held an unbroken eye contact with you, to see if you were watching him. But it was unnecessary. His gesture was all too familiar to you.

"You dick," you accused him, clearly unamused now. "No, no way."

He smiled at the way you violently shook your head no, turning away from the chess table in a plain refusal.

"C'mon, just a liiittle kiss," he reasoned (more like whined, really), "Not like you've never done this before."

As competitive as you were, this was something you couldn't bring yourself to do.

You wagged your finger at him, reinforcing the fact of your disapproval. "Not in this climate," you rebuked. "It's extortion."

"It's barter and quite fair one at that." Zeke remained relentless in his persuasion attempts, like he wasn't the one with the higher ground. "A kiss for a hint. And, if you uphold your part of the bargain, you'll be able to win."

The gall to assume that you'd agree to trade your affection in exchange for useful information even just once, not to mention multiple times all for the sake of a tainted victory. Did he really deem you this weak-willed? You'd give him no such satisfaction.

"Thanks but no thanks," you cut him off bluntly, directing all of your attention back to the chess board. "When I beat you in the game, I'd rather it be a clean victory."

When - it's if, rather but you couldn't afford to give up so easily.

Your refusal did nothing to upset him, though. As if nothing had happened, he returned his attention to the game, too.

"Your loss," he stated, pressing his lips to hide a grin as he made a move that he spent mere seconds thinking over but managed to tip the scale in his favor. "I win either way."

And you thought he had been merciless before that. Well, he was now. It is only after your refusal that he shed all the self-restraint and went into full obliteration mode. At this point it wasn't about winning for him anymore rather than stripping you off your valuable figures, completely ignoring openings for potential checkmates.

Much to your dismay — yet to his triumph — this tactic of his seemed to have worked as your despair grew from one loss of a piece to other, removing all logic from your play style. The already miniscule chance of deafeating him thawed with each of his devastating moves. It seemed as if he wouldn't stop until you had only the king left at your side.

You caved once you lost most of your pawns and each one of the paired pieces. Turned out, you were mistaken about your own moral compass and intellectual capabilities. Maybe the end does justify the means.

"Alright, fine," you exclaimed, getting increasingly exasperated. "Let it be your way."

Ready to abandon your dignity (not that there was much to begin with), you plopped your hands at the either side of the board to reach over to the opposite side of the table where Zeke was.

"But I'm gonna win, right?" You had to make sure before sealing the agreement with a kiss.

"Well, not anymore."

You suddenly stopped leaning forward, mere inches away from his face.

The glare you sent his way must've shot the sharpest and biggest of daggers since Zeke rushed to deliver an explanation at the sight of you. "You would have, if you had agreed sooner," almost analitical tone of his voice failed to soothe your frustration. "The best you can settle for now is stalemate."

A draw it is. Quite a good result, admittedly, especially from the game of chess with the Zeke Yeager. And you had only yourself to blame for stalling so much. You took a deep breath to compose yourself. Although the impulse was strong, Zeke did his best not to flaunt his favourable position over you. Even so much as a hint of non-verbal 'i told you' from his side and he would most certainly fall from your grace.

"Why do I love you again?" you whispered under your breath as you were about to press your lips against his cheek. You crinkled your nose as the stubble tickled your skin.

"I ask myself this time to time, too." he replied, sham embarassment dripping in his tone as he melted under the touch of your lips.

Suffice to say, you weren't capable of harboring anger for a long time, let alone towards Zeke. Who was he but an insufferable yet starved for affection man in your eyes?

At the tenth kiss mark it just got ridiculous, to the point when you couldn't suppress your laughter as you leaned over the table, risking to knock over the pieces on the board, time and time again for the exchange to take place. Your dignity right now was of little importance - Zeke would never stop reminding you of this day but you couldn't care less as long as you got that coveted result (even if it was achieved through less than fair means).

Your lips hurt by the time the stalemate was announced - something you weren't aware they could do.

All out of breath, you leaned back against your chair, taking in the piece configuration on the board that finally put the end of this back-and-forth 'barter'.

"I'm never playing chess with you ever again," you firmly stated, watching him rise up from the seat.

"What a pity," his voice failed to convey the sincerity to his statement as he began putting the pieces back into the board - not that he cared for the way you'd perceive him anyway. "Gotta think of other ways to lure the kisses out of you now."

"You could always ask for one, don't you know?"

"I know," he assured, "But it's more rewarding this way."

[cnwolf-brainrot]

I did this again!! I drew Eight in a bunch of TMNT styles a little while ago and Eight and Okami's stories are very closely connected so I've had her story kind of sitting in my head for weeks and I couldn't resist any longer!

I posted this template here and the version with Eight is here!

Lore dump beneath the cut!

Usual Appearance/TMNT-ified (my style)

This is Okami's usual appearance throughout Fallen Renegades! She's a mutant wolf/bat hybrid that was used in a dog fighting ring for several years before she escaped, eventually meeting Eight and stepping up as a parental figure for him. Her story wouldn't change much when TMNT-ified other than the fact that she would inevitably run into the turtles!

1987

I hate how this version looks, I don't know what's happening here. Okami would probably be a minor character in like one episode of the show, probably just some random street thug that gets mutated into a wolf with bat wings because of something Krang did to try and make SUPER MUTANTS or something. Idk lol

2003

In 2003, Okami would probably be a reoccurring character. She'd appear some time in season one, probably as an antagonist for the turtles. She was created by some shady government agency as a mutant attack dog and used for years as a weapon, but managed to escape just a short time before meeting the turtles. At first she attacks them, as she's become used to essentially attacking anything that moves for most of her existence, but after she and the turtles have to work together to take down some mutual threat they establish an unsteady alliance. Over time the government agency that created her (maybe Bishop?) pops back up occasionally, and once and a while Okami is driven back to her original state and fights against the turtles. She is usually a helpful ally for them though. Like I mentioned in Eight's version he and Okami would be introduced separately in this version of the show and make their own independent appearances throughout season one, but then they would meet at some point in season two and all of their appearances after would be together!

Bayverse

Like last time I don't have a ton of lore for the Bayverse version of these characters. They were probably created together by Baxter Stockman and then Okami broke both her and Eight out and they kind of chill around the city until they help the turtles with something. I think this is actually my favorite drawing out of this set I'm kind of mad I don't have more story for it.

2012

2012 Okami was mutated by the Kraang in an experiment to add useful secondary mutations to their creations. Eight was another part of this experiment, and he and Okami ended up in neighboring containment cells. Okami's experiments focused more on the physical aspects of mutation while Eight's focused more on the internal, and when his pyrotechnic abilities kicked in it was extremely destructive. Okami was able to use the destruction to break them both out, and they were able to catch a portal to Earth. The two of them spend most of their time in the show in Kraang-related conflicts, often aiding the turtles when needed because Eight made friends with Mikey.

Rise

In Rise, Hamato Tala is a world-renowned professional boxer who fights under the name "Okami". She was a part of the Hamato clan and is a cousin to Hamato Yoshi, but her family was a bit more distant and disconnected from the usual Hamato duty since her father had also tried to defect from the clan. Like Yoshi she ended up turning her back on most tradition to seek fame and glory, though she pursued hers in the boxing ring. She found her fame, but she also found loneliness... until this little alley cat began following her around after her New York matches. She found the scrappy little guy endearing and somewhat took care of him, until one night an oozesquito bit her. She was mutated into a timber wolf/vampire bat hybrid, and (after eating the oozesquito) Eight became more humanoid and also had some of Okami's DNA. Okami basically said "well I guess this child is my responsibility now" and illegally adopted him, though the legality of the situation doesn't really matter because when she tries to go back to her human life it turns out no one recognizes her and if she tries to explain herself most people freak out. So she stops wrestling in the pro rings and instead starts taking jobs at smaller rings that are a whole lot less legal but at least make her money... and let her use her new, animalistic strength. Then of course eventually she and her adopted son run into the turtles and she finds out that, in gaining some of her DNA, Eight now has Hamato ninpo... in a very, very unstable way. Basically now this kid that she picked up on the street hears ghosts and explodes occasionally and this is something Okami is just cursed to deal with now.

Rise Movie (the future version that's not super clear on the template)

Okami dies a year or two after the Krang take over, and with her final breath she transfers the rest of her ninpo over to Eight. This stabilizes Eight's abilities and maybe it would mean that Okami doesn't get a ghost form but I don't really care, I wanted to draw her human form and also let me have some happiness imagining Four (the bas future version of Eight) talking to his ghost mom. Anyway I made a comic about this timeline and Eight's name changing to Four and it shows Okami's death lol

Mutant Mayhem

Okami was raised in a dog fighting ring before she was mutated. In fact, TCRI bought her out of the ring in order to have more test subjects as they were working to recreate Baxter Stockman's mutagen. They ran tests on her right alongside a certain burmese kitten, and for a wile both animals were deemed as failures. Of course, inevitably Eight gained his fire abilities. It was in the midst of the lab fire that Eight sparked that more of TCRI's mutagen prototypes were spilt, and the heat of Eight's flames made them a bit more effective. Okami grabbed him and dragged him out of the lab, and in the process both animals got a second dousing of mutagen that was much more effective than the first. After this Okami ended up raising Eight and took on a very similar mindset to both Splinter and Superfly; everyone is evil, stay safe and hidden. Okami is extremely protective in this version and genuinely believes everyone is out to get them, and she takes on a bit of an antagonistic role until she finally learns to chill out.

Fun fact: Okami was actually originally a TMNT OC long before Fallen Renegades existed, so it was kinda nostalgic designing these <3 she's come a LONG way since I first made her

[chaotic-and-mentally-ill]

So, Ducktales x Cult of the Lamb, am I right?

Ok it's not actually a Ducktales x Cult of the Lamb au, it's more of a weird Mickey and friends Cult of the Lamb au, but it mostly focuses on the duck triplets.

(Huey, Dewey, and Louie)

I, sadly, don't have a whole lot of art for this au yet mostly cause i'm still figuring out how to draw all the characters, so bare with me cause this is gonna be a long text post until I have art I can/am willing to share.

TLDR;

Cult of the Lamb au but make it Ducktales/Mickey and friends because i've been watching Ducktales and recently got back into Cult of the Lamb again. I'll mostly be focusing on Louie for this au sense I have the best grasp on his character as of right now, but others will show up.

Sense Louie is the main focus, Louie with be the one taking on the role of The Lamb for this au, meaning he will bare the crown.

(But that doesn't mean I haven't thought about the "what if" of if Huey or Dewey got it instead.)

Cult of the Duck

So, before I really get to this I need to explain one very important detail:

All the ducks? Yea, they're dead. All expect Louie of course. (or one of the other triplets but we'll get to that later). This, of course, means Donald, Della, Scrooge, his brothers, and frankly and other duck within the series are, well, gone.

Like the lamb, Louie as the last of his kind. There are no other ducks. He has no one to protect him, and no one to protect. He is completely and utterly alone.

So when he's sent to be sacrificed in order to prevent the "prophecy", there was not much he could do. Sure, it was absolutely terrifying! No one wants to be sacrificed, and he was damn well sure that "prophecy" was bogus!

"Come closer, little duckling, for I still need you. I will grant you back your life, in return, I ask for a cult in my name. Do we have a deal?"

But as he looked up to the Bishops, gods amongst the people, those who always knew what was right, those who should not be questioned, as all he could do was bow his head and squeeze his eyes tight, hearing his heart beat agents his ribs as he prayed.

But when no pain had arrived, curiosity got the best of him as he opened his eyes and looked up. It was so bright.

Something beckoned him forward, and he followed. A voice gently assured to him as he made his way forward.

And with new found life, Louie escapes with the help of one of Oswald's children, a previous vessel to The One Who Waits.

And the story continues as per usual from there with one of Oswald's kids taking the place of Ratau (at least until I think of someone better). The first follower to be saved by Louie would be Max, who after this point is pretty darn loyal.

Louie, at first, is pretty upset about having to work and build the cult in the first place. He wasn't used to doing so much hard work, nor did he enjoy it very much. But, it was better then basically every thing else he'd been through, so he'd learn to tolerate it.

After some time of going on crusades (which, frankly, he hates more), he'd get a pretty good flow going between growing the cult and relaxation. He'd upgrade quickly, recruit (or as he'd call it; "Sweet talk") people, and find ways to make it so everyone could care for themselves so he'd have more time to relax.

Occasionally he'd go on crusades, but only if he absolutely needed to. (Food, supplies, gold, stuff like that.) He'd avoid the Bishops as long as he physically could, only caving when he didn't have a choice but to face them.

Sure, it be a heavy learning curve at first (learning to be selfless and what not for the sake of the cult), but eventually he'd be a pretty decent leader. His favorite days are when the whole cult (also known as his "community") would take one big break and not work at all, but he also enjoyed the days where everyone would hand him gold and/or do all the work for him. Because man does he hate having to do hard work. And yes, he's still the greedy, money loving guy we all know and love.

He'd often have Max be the one looking over the "community" when ever he leaves. Max would also probably be the tax collector and such considering he was the first follower and is the most loyal. Him and Max are close.

I can also see Louie marring many people, for tax purposes of course.

But what about the other 2? What would happen if they were given the crown instead?

Well, the sacrifice process may as well go the same. Oswald kid still takes Ratau place, Max still being the first follower and being loyal beyond belief, but that's likely where the similarities would end.

Dewey, being the prideful and adventures guy he is, would absolutely LOVE crusades. Sure, he'd love his cult and would enjoy being around them, but he would be nowhere NEAR where Louie would be in growth in the same time frame. He'd spend far to much time doing crusades and fighting monsters or even the bishops. Tbh I can see him taking out the most amount of bishops in the shortest amount of time out of all his brothers (with Louie taking the longest).

He'd probably come back to a hungry, angry followers because he'd be gone so long thanks to his crusades, which would inevitably lead to a LOT of damage control after. Would he ever learn? Probably not.

That's basically all I got for now, still a lot of stuff to work through and think about, but it's a neat idea that's been plaguing my mind for the past few days.

Huey on the other hand would spend an equal amount of time on crusades and with his cult. He'd most likely have everything under control from the get go. Plus, he now has a healthy way of letting out "The Duke of Messes" via crusades. Occasionally he'd have to preform damage control, especially with any new stubborn followers, but for the most part everyone is happy and capable of functioning orderly with or without him (mostly due to his schedules). Let's be honest, he's just glad people are finally listening to him.

His cult would probably embrace nature to it's finest, tents and all. It would probably be more put together and more advance then Dewey in most regards, but not nearly as advanced as Louie.

In other words: Louie is basically running a really weird town, Huey is running a camp, and Dewey is uh- doing his best.

[broiderie]

Meet the Reaper 25

Alrighty. Here's the next bit. Another bit of filler, but it also gives a little more information on how the club has planned to take care of Megan in everything they can.

Do not copy or steal my work. This is the only place it's posted. Do not translate my work. Please DO reblog it. Our fandom is still active, but we're quiet. Let's make them a little less so.

Warnings: slight suggestive material. I don't remember cursing in here but I probably did. More foreshadowing, but it's my favorite literary device so you might as well get used to it.

OH! I also have a poll up about Mayans villains. Go check it out.

Back at the clubhouse, Megan grinned as she saw Tía Diana and Tessa waiting on the porch. Marcus laughed as he dismounted his bike, only to discover Tessa was headed for the Mustang to meet her prima. Taza grinned too. “We’re chopped liver as long as the princessas are together, Padrino.”

He smiled as Diana came to greet him with a kiss. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way, Brother.”

They spent a low key night in the clubhouse watching -mostly- kid safe movies. Megan and Tessa curled together on a couch with snacks as the men unwound by playing pool or just hanging out. By the time Diana and Marcus were ready to head back to Bishop’s for the night, the girls were fast asleep, curled together like puppies with Rex.

Hank chuckled and pulled out his phone to snap a picture. “That’s another one for her wall…”

Taza grinned. “I agree, ‘mano.” He looked to Marcus. “You sure you want to wake her? She could stay at the ranch for the night and give you two a night to yourself.”

Diana smiled. “Sorry, Taza. We’re going to head out early. Tessa has missed enough school already.”

He shrugged and grinned. “Well - I tried.”

Marcus chuckled a bit. “And we appreciate the thought,” he said before moving to gently wake Tessa.

As soon as Tessa moved when Marcus shook her gently, Megan’s eyes popped open and she was reaching for her holster. 

“Easy, Poquito. Just me,” he soothed. “Time for Tessa and Diana to head out.”

Megan blinked rapidly to clear the sleep from her eyes and then relaxed. “Sorry Tío. Habit.”

He smiled and smoothed a hand over her hair. “You’re okay Bebita.” He tried again to wake Tessa only to be greeted by a whine as she buried her face in Megan’s hoody on her good side more.

Bishop laughed around the cigar he was smoking. “Looks like she’s officially out for the count, Primo.”

Megan smiled ruefully and squeezed her cousin a little tighter for a moment. “Are you guys leaving in the morning, Tía?” she asked without looking up.

“Sí. Time for the tiny princessa to go back to school.” Diana leaned over the back of the couch to press a kiss to the back of Megan’s head. “We’ll call from the road so that you two can make plans, okay?”

“Okay,” she smiled sleepily up at her aunt. “Be safe.”

Marcus scooped Tessa up and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Poquito,” he promised as they headed out the door.

Chibs smiled at Megan from his barstool. “I do believe tha’s my que too, Princess. We’ll head back tomorrow too - but not early.” Tig and Venus had already slipped out earlier in the night. He stood and came to offer Megan a smile. “See ya tomorrow, Lass.”

“Night. Ride safe, Chibs.”

Back at the ranch after showers all around, they gathered in the living room to decompress a bit more. Hank had Megan sitting between his knees so that he could brush her hair out for her before bed while Taza relaxed in the recliner. 

“That was a good catch today, Chica. What gave them away?” Taza asked.

Megan shrugged as well as she could. “They were just too interested in us to be bystanders. We always draw attention, but not like that. And then the lady showed up on that balcony and it didn’t feel right. I figured being the bubbly tourist was the safest bet. Worst case - they were L.O. and Adelita would laugh at me.”

Hank pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Either way, it was brilliant. Now - we just need to figure out who they actually were.”

Taza sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. “Most likely they were either feds or they belong to Galindo. Either one would have reason to have us followed.”

“If they were Galindo’s, they weren’t any that Luisa recognized,” Megan supplied. “She didn’t know their faces.”

“Most likely feds then. We’ll have to be extra careful about tails while Galindo is tied to them,” Hank mused as he continued to run the brush through Megan’s dark hair. “And you -” he tugged he head back to look at him. “You never carry contraband. Never. Don’t even touch it.” He kissed her forehead. “The rest of us can handle it.”

Taza nodded in agreement. “And if we’re ever caught - you know nothing about what we do. You play dumb. We’re just a M.C. Women in our world are never given details so they likely won’t think you have any. As far as the feds are concerned - you’re a cute mascot.”

Megan grimaced, but nodded. “I understand, Papa.”

“Good.” Hank looked at Taza. “And if we are caught and she’s with us - the lawyers go to Megan first. I don’t care how many of us are caught. We would have each other’s backs inside. She’d be alone.”

Taza nodded again. “That instruction has already been given, brother. Bishop and I handled it with the lawyers the other day.”

“And on that cheerful note - Bedtime,” Hank joked. “C’mon mi princessa. You’ve had a long day. Let’s go to bed. 

Megan smiled and stood to go claim a cuddle from Taza. “Night Papa.”

“Sweet dreams, Sweet Chica. Maybe in the morning we can make sure your saddle fits like it should. You can’t ride, but we can fit it at least.” He kissed her forehead softly and smiled at the excited little noise that Megan gave. 

Once in the bedroom with Rex in his dog bed, Hank watched Megan carefully for signs of pain. “How was it today, mi reina? I’m sorry I didn’t think to send your meds with Taza.”

Megan put her hair brush down on her dressing table and smiled at him in the mirror. “I was okay. The pain wasn’t anything like before when I wasn’t taking the pain relief.” She turned and moved to stand between his knees where he was perched on his footlocker at the end of the bed. 

His hands automatically went to her waist where he could slip his thumbs under her sleep shirt to stroke her skin. “I’m glad. I worried all day, but Bishop said Taza would call if you needed them. We didn’t want to interrupt your fun if you really were alright.” He smiled. “Did you enjoy the fair?”

“We had lots of fun with the games. Papa won me a duckie. He’s in the car.”

Hank laughed. “He said you kicked ass at the shooting games though.”

Megan grinned at him and bit her bottom lip. “Maybe a little. There are more prizes with the duck in the trunk.”

He kissed her softly. “That’s mi reina.” He moved her back gently so that he could pull off his shirt and crawl into bed so that she could snuggle back against his chest the way she liked. Once they were settled he frowned a little. “I wish I could have gone to the rodeo with you. Taza said it was eye opening for him. I can only imagine what it would be like for me. I’ve never even been on a horse, let alone rode in anything like that.”

She looked up at him over her shoulder. “Really? Never?”

“Not in my memory. You’ll have to teach me to ride if you want me to go with you on the horses.”

She smiled a little and yawned as she snuggled closer. He draped his arm over her waist to hold her good hand and cradled her as close as he could. “I can do that. You’d do well with Trucker, I think. He’s big enough for you. And Papa says he’s steady. He didn’t even spook when he met Rex the first time. I think you’ll be okay on him.”

Hank chuckled. “Which one do you think you’ll ride most?” he asked curiously.

“Papa says Rocket. He’s the fastest. Sugar is sweet, but she’s slow and a little lazy. And Trucker and I would be okay, but with his size I’d look like an ant riding an elephant. He’s too wide for me to ride for any real length of time properly.” She closed her eyes and Hank moved to turn off the lamp that was their only light before settling back in to hold her. Megan yawned again. “Papa also said something about buying me a cutting horse to compete again. It might be fun to finally have my very own horse… To know that it was mine…”

Hank smiled as he listened to her drift off before he closed his eyes to join her.

The next morning, Hank woke up as Megan tried to sneak out of bed. Just before she got to the edge of the bed, he grabbed her gently and pulled her back in close. “Morning, Princessa. Where you going?” he asked with a rumble.

Megan jumped a little and giggled as she realized what was happening. She relaxed back into his bare chest easily. “Morning, Baby. I was going to TRY to get breakfast ready before you woke up.”

He smiled and nuzzled her neck, placing kisses on her skin. “Mmm but I like making breakfast with you.” His hands wandered a little, stroking the skin of her abdomen and hips. 

“Mm. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to spoil you once in a while.” She melted, enjoying the feeling of his mouth and calloused hands on her skin. She pressed her hips back against his with a tiny whine. 

He grinned and nibbled gently at the hinge of her jaw. “This is spoiling me, mi reina. How’s your pain level this morning?”

She shivered pleasantly and pressed entirely against him, feeling him hardening the more she wriggled. “A little achy, but not bad. I really think I could drop the sling…”

He pressed his whole hand below her navel with a chuckle. “Easy, Princessa. Don’t start that unless you want teased back.” He laughed again at the whine she let out. “Let me see if we can get you in to the doctor in Santa Madre today. You may be right about the sling.”

They both looked up as Taza knocked on the door frame of the cracked open door. “What might she be right about?”

“Good morning, Papa,” Megan said with a smile. “I was telling Hank that I think I’d be okay without the sling.”

Taza stepped inside and frowned. “You shouldn’t push yourself, Chica…”

“I know, Papa, but the pain is so much better without the cast. I went all day without pain relief yesterday and I’m not really hurting this morning either.” She smiled and wiggled until Hank released her so that she could sit up.

Hank pushed himself up to sit against the headboard and hastily arranged the blankets before he smiled. “I told her that we’d get the doc’s opinion in Santa Madre with an x-ray.”

“They said three weeks at the hospital and the Rez doctor said you weren’t healed enough to be without the sling yet…” Taza fretted.

“That was with the plaster cast, though. The soft cast is so much lighter and without my muscles spasming like they were I’ve felt so much better…”

Hank smiled as he watched Megan weedle her father. “An x-ray with the doc won’t do any harm, Taz. If she needs to stay in the sling, then she stays in the sling. But you know it’s driving her batshit.”

Taza winced. “Fine. Make the call.” He moved to sit in Megan’s reading chair. “You call. I’ll help Megan if she needs it.”

Hank smiled and nodded before pressing a kiss to the back of Megan’s head and going to the living room for his burner phone.

Megan smiled. “Can you braid my hair for me, Papa? I can get dressed after.”

“Of course, Chica. What are we doing today?”

A short while later, Taza and Megan exited the bedroom to find Hank sitting at the table on the phone. He was speaking Spanish as he absently rubbed Rex’s ears. 

Without pausing, Megan pressed a kiss to his still sleep ruffled hair and went to the stove to start the coffee. Taza leaned in the doorway and watched as he held in a chuckle. Megan’s back was to Hank so she didn’t catch the double take he gave or notice him lose track of the conversation since it was in Spanish. 

Taza had braided Megan’s hair into her tight warrior braids and then sat back as she fussed a bit over what to wear. Eventually, she’d settled on a white racerback tank top and her light washed skinny jeans that looked like the distressing machine had gone completely apeshit on them. She was completely covered, but it was also tighter than she normally wore. She had all plans of putting her leather jacket under her kutte the way Chibs did before they left the house. 

Taza gave Hank a moment to allow his brain to reboot before he joined him at the table and jokingly threw a napkin in front of his brother. Hank shot him a glare before quickly wrapping up his call. He cleared his throat a bit. “All ready, Princessa?”

Megan finished setting up the percolator and turned to smile at them. “Yeah. Were you able to get an appointment. 

The men looked at each other and chuckled. “We don’t need an appointment, Chica. We just needed to be sure the doctor would be in town. He sometimes has out of town deliveries to make,” Taza explained. 

Hank grinned. “But, yes, mi amore, I got in touch. He’s in town today and we can see him whenever.”

“Oh good. I really want my arm back.”

Taza smiled. “We know, but you still will be limited with the soft cast.”

“But without the sling I can ride with y’all again. Or even drive my car.” She grinned. “And I can go back to work at the bar.”

Hank shook his head, grinning ruefully. “True enough, mi reina.” He stood. “I’ll go get dressed.” He winked at her. “Looks like we’re going South today.”

Taza and Megan made a quick breakfast og burritos while Hank changed. By the time they were all done eating, all three of their phones went off. Megan was closest and checked hers. “Templo tonight. Angel and EZ are headed South today too, so we’ll meet for an update after that. Also - Tía Diana left a text to say that they started back before sunrise this morning.”

Taza paused from loading the dishwasher and grabbed his. “The Scot says they’re leaving in about an hour. Want to stop by the clubhouse and say goodbye, Chica?”

“Yes, please. That means Venus is leaving too,” she said with a smile. 

They gathered their gear and donned their kuttes before heading out to meet everyone at the clubhouse. 

Hank kept a close eye on Megan on the way over, to see if she was having any anxiety over so many people leaving. She seemed to be calm and collected, but he kept a hand on her knee when he wasn’t shifting gears just in case. 

Angel was the one who rolled open the gate for them to the clubhouse, but by the look of the pit - everyone was there. The Sons were standing on the porch in what looked like last discussions of plans with Bishop and Marcus. Once they got parked, Hank came around to open Megan’s door for her so that she and Rex could get out. He started towards the porch, but realized that Megan seemed to be lingering by the car as she fussed with Rex’s harness.

“All good, mi princessa?” he asked quietly. 

Megan shot him a smile. “All good. Just don’t want to interrupt business…”

Hank grinned as Taza joined them. “Mi reina - you’re an officer. No business that you don’t know about.” Taza smiled too as realization passed over Megan’s face and she looked a bit sheepish.

“Ooops. I keep forgetting,” she grinned. 

Taza laughed. “You’ll get there, Chica. C’mon. I know you want to say goodbye to Venus.”

They joined the group just as they stepped off the stairs. 

“Well, good morning to you, Little Bit. Come to see us off?” Tig asked, ginning at her as his eyes lingered a little too long on her tight jeans that were just brushing the tops of her biker boots.

Venus smacked him in the stomach with the back of her hand before turning her own attention to Megan. “Good morning, Sweetheart. Feeling alright?” she asked, stepping forward for a hug.

Megan hugged the tall woman back. “Good morning. I’m fine. Not hurting as much. We’re actually going to see a doctor today about maybe being able to drop the sling.”

“Oh good. You let me know what they say. We’ll be on the bike, but I’ll text at rest stops.” She pulled back to smile at the younger woman and straightened the girl’s necklace for her. 

“I will. I’ll miss you,” Megan said quietly. 

“Psh. I’m only a phone call away. Call me anytime and I’ll start driving, Honey.”

Megan hugged her again. “Ride safe and say hello to Happy for me.” She grinned at Tig over Venus’s shoulder. “And you need to stop being lazy in the ring. It’s just making it harder on you.”

Tig laughed. “Oh. She bites this morning. When you’re all healed up, we’ll see who’s lazy in the ring.”

Chibs stepped forward. “It’ll still be you, Tiggy,” he drawled with a wink at Megan. “This lass’ll be a proper fighter.” He offered Megan a hug which she took. “We’ll be down in style for tha’ big party soon enough. Keep ya’self safe til’ then, alrigh’?”

Megan squeezed him around the middle gently. “I’ll be alright. Ride safe, Chibs.”

“You too, Lass.” 

With a few final goodbyes, SAMCRO mouthed their bikes and headed back North. 

Taglist:

@jemmakates

@msjava1972

@drabbles-mc

@delightfulheroshoeflap

@iamthegraham

@oureternalbond

@camelia35

@anaeve

@tallrock35

[krystaldeath]

Cult of The Lamb hc’s (part of me feels like I should wait till I play the game myself - or watch a full playthrough at least - before I “solidify” these but meh. For now at least these are how I see things):

* Kinda typical hc I feel like but Leshy is the youngest, then it’s Heket, Narinder, Kallamar, and then Shamura is the oldest.

* Idk what their ages would be chronologically wise but my personal hc’s for “biological” age are: Leshy (21), Heket (25), Narinder (27), Kallamar (32), and Shamura (40). I think Lamb is about 200 years chronologically but 28 “biologically” (I think it’s funny if they’re “older” than Narinder)

* I don’t have a name for them yet but my version of the Yellow Cat is a little bit fucked up actually. Like they seem chill and they kinda are? But they’ve got a body count. And no not the sex kind. Think of that one audio where the guy answers the body count with 30 and when it’s clarified that it’s about sex he’s like “Oh well I haven’t done that yet!” And the other persons like “WHAT DOES 30 MEAN THEN???”

* I need y’all to know I project onto The Lamb HARD. So yeah, they always wanted to be kind and sorta made it a big part of their personality. Unfortunately their world and circumstances just doesn’t allow for their kindness. They still try to be as kind as they can be, but it’s hard when you’re slowly ascending to godhood, especially into the god of death.

* Also Agender Lamb. They/Them and ONLY They/Them Lamb all the way. Demi ro & sex & pan. They’re a?ab (assigned ??? At birth; bc I can’t decide but if you MUST know I think they can shapeshift a bit now so. Maybe they forgot themself lol). Presents androgynously, leaning either way whenever they feel like it. They have a more masc voice though I think, like the ones people use in comic dubs a lot.

* Once I figure out how to draw (could stop it there I am Rusty) anthropomorphic animals it’s over for y’all (Translation: I will draw my self insert and The Lamb being kinda fucked up Besties)

* ((PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT MY SELF INSERT AND OTHER OC INSERTS I HAVE FOR THIS THE BRAIN ROT IS SO REAL))

* The cotl fandom is filled with queer people who’ve got some level of religious trauma, let me recommend a recent song I’ve been looping and imagining a cotl/narilamb animatic to: Collared by Vane Lily (look it up on YouTube to watch the fun mv first!) WARNING IT IS HIGHLY SUGGESTIVE

* I’ve been flip flopping a bit on what species she’d be but I have ideas for a follower love interest for Heket! At first I thought a bunny, then a bee, and currently feeling like a bat would be cute. Idk but I do see her as a warrior type who also likes to bake and do cutesy things too

* I think once the bishops become followers their injuries are worse but they can still “work” around them: Leshy can kinda see things if they’re up close. Heket can sorta speak but not fast and she’s got. Well not a sore throat bc. She doesn’t have one of those anymore. But something akin to that constantly. Kallamar can only hear loud things or if someone spoke into his ear directly (he only allows those in his polycule and his siblings (minus Narinder) to get that close). Shamura does get a bit lost in their own mind, and even when they’re more conscious their memory is spotty.

* Back to my Yellow Cat being a bit fucked up: They actually really liked the idea of chaos (though they hardly show it) so when they find out Leshy was the bishop of chaos instead of being scared or unnerved they’re like “*twirls hair (fur??)* ha ha ha, omg, really~?”

* *slaps the top of The Lamb, Leshy, and probably so many others don’t underestimate me* these bitches can fit so much adhd (+ autism probably) in them

* Probably (geez I use that word a lot huh?) got more hc’s, especially for other characters, but this is already pretty long so I’ll leave it here for now

[fratboykate]

No! Papi! Don’t look at the buzz cut, look at me *dangles pocket watch in a hypnotizing motion* repeat after me: you neeeed to give us bgau 5yrs after snippet. Flo’s hair is still attached to her head. Everything will be fine

But also Netflix needs to get their shit in gear. Good luck bending them to your will

Y'all are so ridiculous lmao. Here's 2.5k words that are probably equal parts angst and domesticity. This is five years post divorce.

///

Yelena sits at a high-end restaurant, sharing her table with a captivating black woman whose radiant smile and crown of ebony curls exude a natural beauty. Their laughter fills the air, a reflection of the deep intimacy and ease that comes with dating for over a year.

With her effortless charm and resilience, Monica Rambeau instantly captured Yelena's heart. The subtle lines on her face tell a story of strength forged through life's trials. What binds these two together goes beyond words. Yelena and Monica share a profound understanding of each other's pain and trauma, an unspoken connection that weaves their lives together. They both carry the weight of loss, have walked the path of military service, and possess a disciplined nature. Yelena's enigmatic allure and sharp intellect fits in perfect harmony with Monica's indomitable spirit and boundless compassion for others. Yelena, often guarded, finds solace in Monica's unwavering support, while Monica draws strength from Yelena's fierce loyalty. They innately understand each other's pain and trauma, creating an unspoken bond that allows them to build a fulfilling life. Together, they’ve envisioned years overflowing with love and commitment. Yelena and Monica have decided to embrace the long haul, fully invested in creating a future, and ready to weather any storm that comes their way.

Yelena takes a delicate sip of her vodka sour, the liquid tang dancing on her tongue, and she can't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity that came out of her partner’s mouth.

"Nic, you did not say that to a four-star general. I don't believe you."

"He was so stunned he didn't even know how to respond."

"And you still walked away with the case assignment?"

"Absolutely. Once he realized I had him cornered, he had no choice but to give in."

Their laughter fills the air, their connection crackling with energy and warmth. But the moment is interrupted when Yelena's phone buzzes in her pocket, pulling her attention away. She retrieves it, glancing at the urgent text message that flashes across the screen: "Emergency at the Bishop property."

"Sorry," Yelena apologizes, her focus shifting entirely to her phone as she begins to type a response.

“Everything okay?” her girlfriend asks, concern etching her features.

A reply message pops up, and Yelena's skin drains of color. Swiftly, she rises from her seat, retrieves her wallet, and drops a few hundred in cash on the table.

"One of Kate's crazies broke into the house while she was there.”

"Oh my god! Is she okay?"

"I don't know. I need to go handle this."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course," Monica replies, her worry evident.

Leaning in, Yelena gently presses her lips against her girlfriend's, a tender farewell.

"I'll be home as soon as I can."

Monica cups Yelena’s face with her hand and delicately caresses her cheek with her thumb.  

"Please be safe."

"Always."

Yelena steals one final kiss before rushing to the door. 

---

The flashing red and blue lights of patrol cars cast an eerie glow, reflecting off the sleek facade of the mansion. They pulse with a sense of urgency as a few dozen members of Yelena's security team and police remain scattered around the premises. Yelena arrives quickly enough that they haven't even driven the intruder away yet. Her eyes lock onto the disheveled figure in the back of the patrol car, his face marked with bruises and tears mixing with snot as they stream down his cheeks.

Yelena's steps boom against the driveway's paving bricks with a determined cadence, underscoring the fury simmering within her. She marches purposefully towards the spot where Clint Barton, the man responsible for overseeing the night shifts, engages in conversation with another guard. The sheer intensity radiating from Yelena is palpable, causing the other bodyguard to grimace, excuse himself, and hastily retreat from the impending storm.

"What the hell happened?" Yelena demands, her voice tight with anger.

"I'm not sure. It looks like the guy broke in through the back, near the guest house.”

"What do you mean you're not sure? Check the damn footage."

"Ma'am, that camera has been down for over a week. Records say we put in the repair request, but the techs haven’t come yet.”

An irate growl builds in Yelena's throat.

"So we have a blind spot, and instead of assigning someone to cover it until it's fixed, you simply left it unattended?"

"No, ma'am. Kaplan has been back there for days, but he went on his lunch break."

"And no one replaced him?"

"We're down two men today, so we didn't have the bodies. There's a flu going around. Richards and Lang called out sick."

“Then you call the office and you have them pull from somewhere else! We have guys on call for this specific reason. You don't leave this property or team short. EVER. Am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am. I did try to..."

Yelena's focus is abruptly shattered as another body collides into hers with unyielding force. Even before she lays eyes on Kate, she catches a whiff of that familiar perfume, stirring unwanted nostalgia and longing inside her. It's been far too long since they've been this close, yet the effect remains undeniable.

Kate clings to Yelena with a desperate grip, seeking comfort and security in her arms. The blonde adjusts her position within Kate’s arms, turning to face the younger woman directly. Their eyes lock. The instant blue and green meet, it’s as if a dam has burst and a torrent of sobs spills from Kate's trembling form, the weight of her emotions breaking through the surface.

"Hey…Hey…You okay?" Yelena's voice is tinged with concern, her gaze searching for answers.

“I heard your voice. Inside. I heard it…You came.” Kate manages to utter between tears, her voice filled with relief and vulnerability.

“Of course I came. Of course.” Kate's grip tightens around Yelena. Yelena responds by enveloping the brunette in her arms, holding her closer with tender strength. "Is Eli on his way?"

Kate's head shakes against Yelena's chest, tears staining the fabric of her shirt.

"He's in Edinburgh. He's on set, shooting the sequel to his stupid alien movie until June.”

Yelena lets out a sigh.

"I'm calling in more bodies, at least until he comes back. You'll be safe."

Kate looks up at Yelena.

"Can you stay?" Kate asks, her voice soft and small. “Please."

Yelena hesitates for a moment while surveying Kate’s distressed face. With a resolute nod, Yelena reaches out and tenderly takes Kate's hand in her own, their fingers involuntarily intertwining as if guided by an invisible force. Neither of them notices the subtle gesture, too consumed by the moment's graveness and the need to protect and be protected.

With their hands entwined, they move forward, stepping across the entryway and into the house's safety.

---

Yelena steps inside the house, her first time crossing its threshold in five long years. Memories of joy, pleasure, and heartache rush back. It looks different now, the decor changed, but familiar elements still evoke a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. The space is both foreign and strangely familiar, leaving Yelena with conflicting emotions. She's somehow trapped in a paradox. She feels a sense of displacement, like a visitor in her own past, yet there’s also an undeniable feeling that she somehow belongs here, even after all this time.

As Kate settles on the couch, her body curled up protectively, Yelena gracefully lowers herself to a squat, positioning herself at eye level with the younger woman. Their eyes meet, and Yelena's concern deepens.

"Are you okay?"

"I turned around and he was...there."

Kate’s voice trembles as she responds. Yelena shakes her head almost imperceptibly, regret and guilt shadowing her expression.

"Kate, I'm so sorry. This should've never happened. It's my fault. I haven't been checking in on your team enough. I dropped the ball. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Kate's response is immediate, her voice filled with conviction as she counters Yelena's self-blame.

"It is. I take full responsibility, and if you decide to find other security options, I completely understand."

A soft sigh escapes Kate's lips, and she reaches out to gently touch Yelena's arm.

"I'm not sure how many times you're going to make me say this, but I’ll say it again…you're the only person I trust with this.” Kate’s words carry a reassuring sincerity that resonates deeply with Yelena.

"A guy just broke into your house under my watch."

"Not yours. Not specifically."

"You know what I mean."

Yelena's attention drifts towards the kitchen, her eyes catching the telltale signs of a panicked struggle. The scene sends a surge of rage coursing through her veins. She clenches her fists, her jaw tightening as she imagines the terrifying encounter that took place in this very spot.

The remnants of a halfway-finished meal sit abandoned on the counter, a stark reminder of the interrupted peace and normalcy that once filled the room. The scattered utensils and overturned chairs bear witness to the chaotic confrontation between Kate and the intruder. Yelena's mind races, trying to piece together the sequence of events that unfolded, her protective instincts sharpening.

"Were you making dinner?” Kate nods. "I'll make you something."

"It's fine. I'm not hungry anymore."

Yelena refuses to accept Kate's dismissal.

"Something small. Tell me what you want. I’ll make it for you."

The faintest of smiles tugs at the corner of Kate's lips, but her refusal remains steadfast.

“Yel, I’m really not hungry."

They both fail to register the intimacy of the nickname Kate used. Yelena looks at Kate with concern, her brow furrowing slightly and leans closer.

"That chicken strawberry salad you like?” Yelena suggests, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “You always have stuff around to make that."

A small chuckle escapes Kate's lips offering momentary respite from the tension that hangs in the air.

"That's what I was making."

Yelena's smirk widens into a playful grin as their eyes lock in a lingering stare.

"You're nothing if not a creature of habit, Kate Bishop. I have to make a call first and then I'll get on it. Okay?"

With a silent nod, Kate accepts Yelena's offer. Yelena rises, her movements purposeful, and takes a step back, turning towards the living room and kitchen meeting point in the open floor plan. She retrieves her phone from her pocket, her fingers moving swiftly to dial a familiar number. Her voice remains steady and focused as she brings the phone to her ear, masking the underlying emotions.

"Hey...yeah. Yeah. Things are fine...mostly. Yeah...No. I'm probably not coming home tonight. I have to...I have to stay...I'm sorry. There's a lot to deal with over here. I'll make it up to you...I know. I love you too. Bye."

When Yelena turns, Kate's energy feels different, almost palpably so. The call catches her off guard and her previously softened demeanor shifts. At that moment, her body tenses up, and her expression becomes guarded. The realization that Yelena has a partner, someone she didn't even know existed, hits Kate like a punch to the gut. It leaves her feeling unsettled, a mixture of surprise, confusion, and maybe even a hint of betrayal.

"I didn't know you were with someone. I don't want to make it awkward or get you in trouble or...I don't know."

Yelena thought she had walked away far enough for Kate not to overhear her, but her voice must have carried more than she anticipated. Yelena's lips subtly curl upwards as her eyes meet Kate’s.

"You're not."

"You can go. I don't want to keep you from...anything."

Yelena shakes her head as she removes her blazer. In a familiar motion, she neatly drapes it over the back of a nearby breakfast stool, a ritual ingrained in their shared history. It's a small, seemingly insignificant moment, yet it carries a weight of familiarity and comfort between them. The sight evokes memories of countless evenings spent together around that same kitchen island, engaged in deep conversations that stretched late into the night. During those quiet moments, their connection blossomed as they shared their dreams, fears, and secrets with one another. The kitchen became a sanctuary, a space where they could be completely forthcoming and vulnerable, finding serenity in each other's presence. The years now seem to fade away, transporting them back to a time when their lives seamlessly merged into one. Despite the circumstances and the distance that has grown between them, it’s evident that old habits die hard for these two.

"She's used to it. You're not the only one of my clients who has a crisis every so often."

"Right."

"And I think I should also say ‘congratulations’." Yelena points at the giant engagement ring on Kate's hand. "That's an impressive rock.”

"I designed it."

"Wouldn't expect anything else."

Kate's gaze drifts downward, fixated on her thighs. After a moment of silence, she finally speaks.

"I guess we both found our people."

It's easier to say this than to admit the weight of the secret that Kate carries. Merely a week ago, Kate called off her engagement with Eli before he left to shoot his latest film project. The ring on her finger remains, a constant reminder of another failed relationship. It’s a symbol of a shattered commitment she's not yet ready to confront. It's easier to keep it on, avoiding the questions and judgment that would follow its removal.

"I guess we did...I'll make you some food."

Kate nods in gratitude, silently thanking Yelena for the familiar tradition of the blonde making food for the younger woman in moments of turmoil. As Yelena skillfully maneuvers around the kitchen, Kate watches her with a hint of admiration. The clatter of utensils, the sizzle of ingredients, and the rhythmic sounds of Yelena’s cooking fill the air, creating a soothing soundtrack that drowns out the worries of the world. This cocoon of domesticity temporarily shields them from the chaos and uncertainty that looms just beyond the door.

[justarandomlambblog]

"I am the prophet with the answers you seek- time, I've unlocked it, I see past and future running free..."

Okay yeah it was way too fun and felt way too good drawing her again, everyone meet my girl Kilyin, I created her uhhhhh in 2008? Which is probably why she looks so much better than anyone else in this image, I've been drawing her for 16 years now. I need to learn to treat the cotl characters like OCs I think, if I do that they'll be easier for me to draw...

She's a prophet/seer/oracle/minor deity/whatever you want to call her living in the godless lands. The Lamb, Narinder and the Bishops seek her out during their journey. She bears no relation to Clauneck, Chemach, Kudaai or Haro, having been a mortal with a high amount of magic who happened to be born long after Chemach stopped making and giving crowns. She managed to figure out how time works, allowing herself to kinda just... step outside of it. Because of this she does not age, but she also gets visions of what was, is and what could be.

They find her in a cavern, waterfalls cascading down into the pond around. She uses the water to share her visions, which can be a... horrifying, terrifying sight. Her cavern is a series of small islands connected by narrow bridges, and there are paths behind the waterfalls as well.

Is this technically spoilers? I mean ig, you know now that Narinder joins the Lamb and Bishops on a journey through the godless lands- though his reason is different from theirs...