Call Me A Contestant On Hell's Kitchen That Is Being Yelled At By Gordon Ramsay Because I'm Cooking Up

I can still see everything from you and have your profile pic unblurred, but had to go into settings and turn off the option to blur "mature" content.

anyways uh yeah imma see what i can do about the mature thing but like, yknow

A Cowpoke's Sweetheart | Chapter 15 | Cult of the Lamb

So far, they’ve made pretty good time. Hamal realizes with a start that they’re only a day or so out from Meadow Rock. It’s less of a town than Independence and more of a…village. As far as they can remember, there’s a shop that calls itself a general store but mostly sells fish bait and trail rations, an old lady with no teeth who sells moonshine, a courier who could be paid to run letters to the proper postmen in Independence, and a handful of drunken hunters.  Not exactly a bustling metropolis, but it’s also the last speck of civilization they’ll see for some time.  Shortly after that realization, they notice clouds building on the horizon, as though nature itself had come to the same conclusion and decided it couldn’t let them off quite so easily. All day they watch the clouds grow taller and darker, like titans formed of turbulent shadow.  When the wind picks up, Hamal calls it and stops the wagon. Narinder looks up from his book — a well worn copy of Frankenstein, this time — and asks, “Why are we stopping?” Hamal gestures to the looming clouds as they climb down from the wagon. As their boots hit the dirt, they hear him simply say, “Ah.”

Wanna draw lamb and/or Narinder fighting a boss?

i sketched many things, liked none of them, so instead it's the moment where the lamb tried to figure out how to kill leshy and asks narinder for help and i dunno weird colours

tyty for help me idea draw a thing

#the answer I got is more detailed than I could ever hope #good writing

I found your red star fic and binged the entire thing over the course of, like, a week and loved every second of it. I read on with abject horror as Shera and Messar quickly became my favorite characters, despite knowing exactly how their tail would have to end. Their death was utterly heartbreaking by the way. You made me cry at work, so thanks for that.

Do you have any lore or character bits about the twins you want to share and, dare I ask, will they show up again later in the fic?

Haha, sorry I made you cry at work! If it’s any consolation, I cried a teeny bit writing their deaths. :’)

I do have a bit of twin lore stashed away! Here it is:

Shera and Mesar are nicknames. Their full names, only really used by their parents when they were in trouble, were Sheratan and Mesarthim.

They, like Hamal, loved to sing. The family could harmonize pretty well when they were together. Both of them wanted to make sure Hamal learned the songs that were passed down to them from their parents, as it was an important aspect of their culture in the old days.

Both of the twins gave up on the idea of romance early on in life, since they knew they would be always on the run and needed to prioritize Hamal. That being said, both of them were gay. Shera was exclusively attracted to other women and Mesar to other men. Neither ever got to act on this, however.

Shera prayed to The One Who Waits every single night, hoping her devotion would help Hamal when the time came.

Mesar liked to dance. Shera did not. Mesar didn’t let this stop him from forcing her into it every so often lol.

As one might imagine, some days were rougher than others. Shera often took refuge in meditation, whereas Mesar preferred walks through the wilderness. Knowing their fates wasn’t always easy, but they both did their best to cope with it without worrying Hamal.

Both had chores they preferred doing. Shera enjoyed foraging whereas Mesar liked to mend clothes. They divided up work based on who liked doing what, and this prevented a lot of fighting.

There were, however, still siblings and very much children themselves at points. When they did fight, the usual go-to strategy would be to sit on opposite sides of the camp and ignore each other while they cooled off. This also ended up working pretty well as it gave both of them a chance to think about the others’ perspective before finding a solution together.

Shera instinctively knew the exact moment Mesar died. She “felt” it, in a sense, and decided then to make sure her final stand mattered to some degree.

As for if we’ll see them again…the wedding is scheduled for the Blood Moon in hopes they’ll visit. Perhaps we’ll see them again! ;)

They’ll also eventually pop up in the Cowboy AU I’n writing. In that universe they’re both doing well, living their best lives!

Thanks so much for loving these two. I didn’t expect to get so attached to them when I first started this fanfic series, and I’m glad others like them as much as I do! <3

A bunch of misc. doodles. Some is me trying to figure out how to draw a lamb, some is drawings of D&D OCs. Indavidual doodles below the break if I did this right.

Lamb. Lamby Lamb. Forever trapped between wanting a round sketchy art-style, a clean angular art-style, and not having either.

Pyre. Masked guy with a big sword.

Hephaestus. Man's got terminal RBF

He might be blind, but he can still see you.

Creature???

When Narinder wakes, the storm has passed.

He’s lying alone beneath the wagon. The canvas and the earth beneath it is damp, but somehow the tempest came and went without Narinder getting soaked to the bone. Water drips down from the wagon’s sides. He shimmies carefully from beneath it, taking care not to smear mud all over himself in the process. His shoulder, neck, and back all complain about the conditions with a chorus of aches. Narinder hisses under his breath and stretches, rolling his aching shoulder until something pops satisfyingly.

The noise draws Hamal’s attention. They’re sitting at a freshly built fire with their gun in hand. It’s unloaded, six bullets sitting on the ground in a small pile beside them. A rag is in their free hand, stained by some kind of oil.

“Hey there,” they say. “Sleep well?”

Narinder rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I slept.”

"Name: unknown, Occupation: unknown, Origin: unknown

A human boy, aged at late teens or early twenties, this individual has been routinely seen at the side of Hephaestus, who still eludes capture. He is often seen by his side during travels and is rumored to posses some amount of magical prowess. Where one can be found, the other is likely close behind. Instruct local cells to keep an eye out for this individual and mark them for capture.

Of note: this individual bears a passing resemblance to wanted posters for a child missing from the bronze towers. After capture, investigate for any connection to the Archmagus of the Ars Goetia"

-Found 22nd day of Mirtul, year 1423.

This letter is unaddressed and carries a sketch of the subject. It was found on an Onyx Dragon of notable importance in the town of Gallstone. There are no public bounties on either Hephaestus or the individual in the sketch, so one may assume that this hunt remains confined to the underworld. Further context for this hunt eludes me, as does the circumstance around the missing child of the Bronze Towers.

A few reference sketches I've done for a potential cotl AU. We will see if anything comes of it, but these will probably change drastically if I continue to draw them. Still, it's neat and I put more work into it than I probably should have.

Tired creature.

lamb

lamb