Keter-kan - ♡peep♡

😫😩😭

He likes his coffee black in his kitchen at 7

I'm a cryptid in Stardew valley. I live on the outskirts of town. I disappear for days on end, purchasing daily one-way tickets to the calico desert. Nobody knows where I go while I'm there. Can occasionally be found fishing at random spots throughout town. I am never not running on at least one triple shot espresso. I take the abandoned minecarts to get around and am frequently seen disappearing into the sewers. I carry a sword for some reason. Once every week or two I will stride into your bedroom to deliver you your favorite meal. I'm a self-made millionaire. I attend all the town events and will go to your concert in the next town over. I have donated approximately 2583 items to the local museum and singlehandedly revitalized the town community center. There are rumors I can talk to junimos. I'm friends with the local wizard

People sometimes wonder why the farmer in Stardew Valley has the strength of a giant and the will of a thousand men in order to make the old farm profitable and revive the dying town.

They're a twenty-something ex-Joja employee and they have just discovered free will for the first time in their life. If I had the caffeine addiction of a college student and the rage of a fallen god I could probably run a pretty good farm too.

hell yeah!!!

Psychological Torment Of The Farmer

Chapter 9 😌

Since college has started back up, I've taken a step back from writing *more* of the story and have been really focused on editing what I have, both for grammatical errors but also lots of worldbuilding, plot heavy stuff. Alluding to different events, setting up later plot lines, etc. I'll be going back and editing previous posts for the chapters as I go through them, but haven't yet! Stay tuned for that lol.

tw: mentions of restrains, bondage, bodily gore and harm, knives, blood, war, grief, death

tag list: @skidotto @idonthaveapenname

Ch. 9

“Is it too tight?” Starla mumbled as she gave a tug to the thick rope binding Oryn’s wrists together. They shook their head, eyelids drooping as a yawn escaped their lips.

The three witches worked in tandem as they set everything out of the room one at a time, slowly taking care not to break anything. As Maureen cast a soft yet powerful protective ward on the hard floor, Starla and Elisa continued with securing Oryn to the wooden bedpost atop the extra mattress.

The tears brimming in Starla’s eyes were in stock contrast to the anger in Maureen’s and the fear in Elisa’s. As the three of them woke together every morning, they wondered if they would survive the following night.

“It won’t work forever,” Elisa mumbled.

“I know,” Starla said, hiccupping a soft cry. “What happens then?”

“Fuck them all,” Maureen chided, finishing the transcription on the floor before lighting the lone candle on the windowsill. “Fuck that old man on that stupid throne, fuck the clergy, fuck every high councilor who had any hand in this… this ridiculous plan!” she grabbed at the windowsill with her bony fingers,

“Maureen—”

“No!” She screamed, ripping off a part of the ornately carved wooden piece, splinters falling to the ground as she crumbled the wood in her fist. “Fuck them all! Especially that good for nothing, washed up, old geezer who thought he had any right to lay a hand on her! To bring her into this! To bring us into this!”

She stormed to Oryn in her rage, her hands twitching as she looked down at the small child. It hadn’t even been a year since they found their way into the Witches care. The concoction given to them to help them sleep had already taken affect, their head lolling to the side as their chest moved with even breaths.

“It would be so easy to kill it,” she muttered, watching. Waiting.

Starla looked at her, whispering, “But he’s just a child.” Another tear rolled down her cheek.

“He killed her!” Maureen roared, turning on her two lovers with more rage than they had thought she could hold. “That bastard…. That monster… all I see when I look at him is her blood. I can’t…”

She stalks from the room, hands soft and laden at her sides, closing the door behind her.

Elisa looked at Oryn. Starla looked towards the window with the broken sill.

“It won’t ever be the same,” she muttered as she made her way towards Oryn, still lost to slumber.

“No,” Starla said, “it won’t.” She put a hand on Elisa’s back, leaning her head against her shoulder as Elisa continued to tie Oryn down. “But it’s not our place to choose these things.”

Elisa scoffed, wiping away a tear. “How do you still believe? After all this?”

She shrugged, pulling away from the bed and looking upon Oryn again. Elisa stood again next to her. “I don’t.” She pulled her tight into her chest, holding her close, letting her sob into her. “The Waters and Winds… it’s all a lie, Elisa. But with him… with that child here, it’s impossible for me to believe in nothing. Not with all he can do.”

~

“You’ve been reading about the clergy?” May set down the hot mug on the table between the two chairs, sitting in the empty one next to Oryn.

Oryn nodded, crossing their legs in the chair and leaning against the cushioned back, holding the warm mug to their chest. “It’s interesting. I didn’t know people could be so… structured.”

May laughed softly, only bringing more comfort into the room with them. The soft fire blazed lazily in the mantle before them. “That’s something you’ll keep finding as you keep learning. People like to control things. You can’t control things unless you make rules and make sure people follow them.”

“And to make them follow the rules you, what, reward them with titles? With the right to… do what they want?”

May sighed, looking towards Oryn. The differences in their features didn’t disturb May as much as they used to; she had grown to expect them every now and again. It was the calm look in their eyes that she found jarring. The way they were suddenly so calm in the midst of the first siege Ilucia had seen since before her father’s time; most don’t take their first battle well, let alone their first intentional kill. And Oryn was so…

“You’re staring.” They said, sitting straighter in their chair.

May shrugged, looking towards the fire and taking a sip from their mug. “Do you know how you got to be with them? Out in the cabin?” She knew it’d be a hard conversation to have.

Oryn let out a deep breath and set down their cup, closing theri eyes and leaning back again in the chair. There was a soft drone creeping its way towards May’s brain, starting from the base of her neck. She shivered as she realized it was comforting her.

“My mother died in childbirth,” they started, “I don’t know much about her. The Witches never told me; they said to never ask.” They opened their eyes and looked towards May as the skin around their jaw started to shift. First, she thought it must have been a trick of the dancing firelight, the shadows playing across their face. But the longer she watched, the more she could truly see the change.

Pain painted Oryn’s face as they continued, May unable to look away. “There was a man named Jonas. He was so old back then; I doubt he’s still alive. I met him once and he said he was there when she died, when I was born. He was the one who took me to them, out at the cabin.”

As they hissed softly between their teeth and gripped the arms of the chair, Oryn’s skin seemed to become a shimmering blanket of thin silk, bubbling and molding itself to the bones that had started to shift from one angle to another.

May shook her head. “You have to know more than that, even if they didn’t tell you.” It was a sight to behold.

As they slowly writhed in their seat while the rest of their body contorted, Oryn continued to talk through the pains. “Not much,” they stuttered, hunching over themselves. Their spine protruded from their skin, the vertebrae contorting with every small move they made. Their skin tore and regrew, the sinew stretching over the fresh wounds like an artist painting something anew. Oryn heaved, sucking in a breath between the agony, meeting eyes with May as their face was lost to the mass overtaking them; no, becoming them.

“They never told you what you are?” May whispered, brows furrowed as she studied them changing, the pounding in her head begging her to do something—anything—as she fought to resist it.

Oryn’s maw sat agape, brown teeth like daggers dripping opaque saliva as the eyes sitting behind their snout rolled back to the front of their head, the lids opening ever so slowly.

“I don’t think,” they huffed, voice no longer human, “they ever knew.”

They could only hold that form for a moment before crumpling in on themselves, the ravenous SNAP of realigning bone making May jump in her seat. Their skin was gray, sagging along their joints as it slowly rippled itself back to where it was meant to sit. But even then, the place where it was meant to sit was something different now.

Oryn’s head hung low, chin on their chest as their jaw ground itself down, chest heaving erratic breaths. “I don’t think anybody does.”

The heat building in May’s chest was abruptly extinguished, the thrumming in the back of her head ceasing. “We can find out,” she said, determination cascading through the room with her voice.

“Do you think there was a book they didn’t read?” Oryn laughed, sighing to themselves. “A spell they didn’t try?” They looked up towards May, their body shaking. “There’s never been any reason to it; never any explanation. I’ve never had control. Not until—”

“The fire. The start of the siege.”

The smile flitting along Oryn’s lips was small, but noticed. “I’m learning,” they muttered, slowly standing on shaky legs and walking with a limp towards the fire, leaning into its light. Their jaw was softer, their eyelashes longer, their body still a recovering version of what it’ll be once it’s finished. “I’ve ruined so many things. Destroyed so much, ridden with so much guilt…”

May stood and joined them huddling by the fire. “It can’t be your fault if you were never taught how to control it.”

“I know,” Oryn turned to face her, “I didn’t realize how much I didn’t know; how much they kept from me.” They smiled, a soft look of reverence overcoming their face. “I think I understand war now, May.”

“Really?”

“If someone is trying to kill you,” they said, “and you don’t want to die, then you’ll have to kill them first. Not because you want to.”

May shuffled a bit where she stood, sighing. “Almost, but… Well, that’s self-defense, I guess. War is a lot more than merely protecting yourself. Hell, if that’s all it was, I could only imagine where I’d be now.” Her gaze was lost in the fire.

“What I did, then, up in the attic… I didn’t do war? I just protected myself?”

May stood back a bit and laughed. She couldn’t help it, no matter the circumstances. “No, no. Gods,” she shoved Oryn lightly. “You don’t do war; you partake in it. It’s too big to think about in terms as simple as that,” she grabbed their mugs from the table between the empty chairs, handing Oryn theirs as she took a sip of her own. “And I’d say you did more than just protect yourself up there. You protected us,” she motioned to the room around them.

Oryn nodded, holding their cup with confidence. “Demetrius, Alec, you…” they lost themselves in thought for a brief moment, then met May’s eyes again. “And without you, who would be running the place? Who would be protecting these people?” Oryn’s eyes went wide, finally realizing that there’s another side to the coin bearing guilt.

May smiled and finished her tea, sauntering towards the door of the office. “With the control you were just able to exhibit,” she said, opening the door and motioning for Oryn to follow, “I think it’d be best if we starting getting you into a more… structured routine.”

Minecraft movie trailer was just a bad dream.

R A H 😫

Pirate AU??

Definitley worth keeping up with this one !!!

Chapter 1 - A Cursed Arrival

still a draft - dm me if you wanna talk about it, I'd love nothing more!!

possible triggers ahead

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Nettlos was a quaint village as magical as the next. Its wooden cottages and winding cobblestone roads were nestled between a forest and a mountain range. It was almost true that the streets and houses themselves exuded an unassuming charm, with its simple way of life and humble inhabitants. Most villagers would never dream of leaving to seek adventure, nor to bring about any sort of change to their perfectly routine lifestyle. In fact, nothing worth writing about had happened in around 120 years, since the last appearance of the Rothaaring constellation.

On this particular night, the cat constellation’s red eye shone brighter than the moon. Not a soul dared utter a word about the overhead demon. Windows bolted shut. Each door locked. Thieves afraid of being caught. Guards wary for their lives. Mothers gripped their children tight while fathers took stock of their belongings and prepared for the worst. All was still, not a single body dared roam the village streets under the intense red aura emanating above.

In one of the modest huts lining the quiet roads, Noka gripped her husband Ekel’s hand tightly. Why did today have to be the day the red-eyed beast shows its face? What cruel joke were the gods playing on her? Her heart tried breaking free of her chest. Her whiskers twitched as she sensed a shift in the air. She was powerless to stop it, her water had already broken. Her second born was doomed.

To be born under Rothaaring’s influence was to be cursed. Parents would often rather abandon their newborn in the cold night than let it suffer the life strewn with hardships that surely awaited it. It was a courtesy. After all, who would befriend the child knowing the stars themselves had conspired against it?

Ekel tried to stay strong. His wife needed him to be present. His palm moved gently against Noka’s soft brown fur. He cooed over her, whispering words of encouragement in what he knew to be her most trying time. Placing his forehead against hers, he silently prayed the gods keep the demon away from this otherwise pure moment. He knew he was fighting a losing battle, but dared not surrender to fear. His sheer desperation was all that kept his hopes alive.

●

Ekel genuinely believed he was a lucky man. He had managed to build a good life for himself, even finding the woman of his dreams. Her beauty was beyond compare in his eyes. Her cinnamon fur shimmered in the light, teasingly playing with the delicate flecks of white scattered through it like markings only he was meant to discover. Her deep umber eyes spoke of forbidden secrets hidden in the exotic lands she had travelled. Even as she gave birth, Noka maintained her position as the pinnacle of creation. She had been perfectly crafted by the gods solely for his possession.

Having seen the beauty of Catfolk in a painting he acquired when he was not yet a man, he sought to marry into their culture. He left his village at fifteen years of age, determined to turn his fantasy into reality. The whole village cheered him on, jokes made at his expense chasing him as he left.

The man obsessed with cats.

                        He’s only looking for a pet.

                                    He’ll never feel the touch of a real woman.

            His parents must be proud.

                        Imagine raising a weirdo like that.

                                    Why couldn’t he just find a regular wife?

And now, back at his childhood home left behind by his parents, he begged for good fortune to look upon him and his gifts once more. His wife had already given birth to an unnervingly perfect half-human Catfolk daughter in Mei, and he hoped to grow old surrounded by the otherworldly beauty he had spent his life longing for.

●

A sharp shriek pierced through the silence of that red night. Ekel was brought back to reality as he felt Noka’s grip tighten, her unsheathed claws digging into the back of his right hand, drawing blood. Her pants grew laboured, her eyes filled with distress. The pain was not dissimilar to having her insides being ripped to shreds. She couldn’t speak, her mouth opened and shut but no words would come out. She could only produce guttural growls and pained whimpers, the smell of blood and fear filling the air. The air scorched her dried throat, and she could almost taste the end of this colossal task approaching.

The wailing of a crying baby replaced Noka’s screams. Noka had birthed a healthy baby boy – a miracle, considering the circumstances. Dizzied from exhaustion, her head fell flat onto the bed she lay upon, her neck giving under the weight, her eyes pulling themselves shut. Noka whispered, “hold on to him for me,” her voice strained and weak. She just needed a few moments of rest after this particularly draining birth, which was far more difficult than her last one.

Cradling his pride softly in his arms, Ekel beckoned Mei into the room to meet her new brother. He rocked and bounced until the walls stopped echoing the child’s piercing cries. Stopping for a second, Ekel brought the child down to Mei’s eye level so that they may get acquainted. Her eyes sparkled with excitement when she saw him. The boy’s white fur separated into patches, and he was smaller and meeker than Mei was at birth. His head was even disproportionately small for his ears, but she’d still swear that he was the cutest thing she had ever seen in her five years. Ekel thought to himself “Thank the gods your lot aren’t born in litters. Otherwise, you’d be the runt of the bunch, huh?”

Mei reached out to touch her brother’s hand and her already wide eyes grew even larger when he grabbed hold of her finger. Her mouth dangling in awe, she gasped and squealed, her elation reaching fever pitch. Ekel chuckled softly and felt his heart well with pride as he watched his children interact. He couldn’t help but imagine that Mei would make a great older sister, and probably a strong mother to a lucky man in the future. A small pang of jealousy shot through Ekel’s gut at the thought of another man being the recipient of Mei’s love. All was well and, for just the briefest of moments, thoughts of the Rothaaring had completely slipped Ekel’s mind.

The boy’s large ear twitched suddenly, and he quickly let go of Mei’s finger. His arms thrashed. His cries resumed, with a desperation that seemed unnatural for a newborn. Alas, he was too young to understand what he had heard, but the severity was instinctual. Mei bolted away, her head tilting slightly downward, her golden eyes trained on her brother. Ekel bolted up and resumed his lulling bounce, trying to hush the child for fear the ruckus would wake his resting wife. His newborn son kept stretching his back and tilting sideways towards Noka. Ekel stopped his motion as it was all he could do to not drop the baby. All the commotion caused meant that neither Ekel nor Mei paid any attention to Noka, and thus neither of them could have noticed.

Mere seconds before the child had started fussing, Noka’s breathing had started to slow. She lay still, her head resting on her pillow as she waited for the dizziness to subside. Her chest barely moved as her shallow breaths continued to grow further apart from one another. In her dreamlike state, she could still make out the child’s coos and Mei’s sweet gasps of delight. She could still smell her scent on the child and could track Ekel’s slight peaceful sway. A soft smile spread across her lips for just a moment as she imagined the serene image of her family welcoming her newborn son. A smooth tranquillity started spreading from her chest, and as she tried to open her mouth to call to her family, she faltered. For just a couple of seconds, she lingered in the room before passing on, her heart’s final beat longing for her son.

●

The newborn’s cries had finally subsided, although it still seemed stressed. Ekel couldn’t understand what could have set his son off so quickly, but he was relieved to see that Noka managed to sleep through the crying.

“Noka managed to sleep-?” His own inner voice trailed off, disbelieving the thought as it occurred. He moved towards her and noticed the boy had stopped swaying about and pulled towards his mother.  The air didn’t feel right to Ekel. He could feel the shifts almost crawl up his skin. The closer he got to his wife, the deeper his gut fell.

“She’s not moving.”

His inner voice didn’t trail off then.

“Is she even breathing?”

“Why isn’t she moving?”

“What happened?”

“How didn’t I see it?”

The questions almost overlapped in his head. His thoughts moving too quickly for him to follow.

“Shippai,” he murmured, barely a whisper. “Shippai! Shippai! Shippai! Shippai!” His voice had started to grow louder with every mention of the word. He looked down at his newborn son and cursed him with one of the only words he had picked up from Noka, failure. His son had caused this. This wasn’t a miracle; this was the curse the gods had bestowed on him for daring to chase his dream. What else could be expected from the Rothaaring’s apparition in the sky on that very night? Shippai was a name that befit his greatest failure and so, the boy’s name had been decided.

●

Although Mei didn’t know what that word meant, she had heard it some months before. She was playing in the front garden when she heard a loud clatter and her mother screaming, “shippai!” She peeked inside through a small hole in between the wooden door’s planks that would usually serve as her spy-hole to watch over the village. The pot had spilled all over the floor and Noka was holding her hand in pain, almost using that word as a mantra. Mei watched, cautious not to make a sound, as her mother kept muttering to herself and started cleaning up, slamming everything as she moved it around. Suddenly, Noka turned to face the door, and started marching towards it. Mei fell over backwards in surprise and her mother instinctively picked up her pace to check on her.

After checking that Mei hadn’t hurt herself, Noka asked her to come help her clean up the mess inside. Mei was still afraid of her mother’s outburst and noticed that her eyes were still a half-squint, and her ears hadn’t yet straightened. This was not the right time to ask, but Noka picked up on her five-year-old daughter’s not-so-subtle stares.

“What is it?” She didn’t mean to snap, and she made a mental note to herself to calm down, but she could still feel her hand throbbing in pain.

Mei got flustered and looked around nervously. She had to muster up the courage before she looked up to her mother and asked, “what’s a shippai?”

Noka’s eyes widened, and her ears fell flat against her head. “That’s a very heavy word.” She said, chuckling nervously, “I have to carry it on from your grandfather, but it hurts my voice when I use it. Promise mummy you’ll never say it again.”

“It’s… heavy?” Mei’s head tilted and her brow furrowed. The word didn’t feel heavy when she said it.

“Yes, child.” Noka crouched to meet Mei’s eye level and held her hands tenderly. “And the more you use it, the worse it hurts. Mommy made a mistake and used the word, but you cannot repeat it, understand?”

●

Noka’s outburst when she lost her temper on that day could not compare in the slightest with the rage Ekel was showing. Her father’s face was on the verge of turning purple, veins pulsing in both his neck and temple. He was forgetting to breathe in his compulsion to release his fury in a hurl of curses toward his own son. Mei’s tail hung low, and she instinctively crouched down into foetal position, tears welling in her eyes. What could her newborn brother do that could cause this? She shut her eyes and folded her ears against her head, reaching up to hold them shut. Maybe she was wrong to think she’d have fun with her little brother.

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taglist: @glbettwrites @keter-kan (text me to join this super exclusive club :D)

I do not care (I care very deeply 😌) about the cyclic pattern of toxic ascendantxspawn relationships because, AT THE END OF THE DAY, the story is about two people who deeply love each other. SO deeply that they allow themselves to fall victims to their worst fears by bringing each other's deepest desires to fruition. AND THE FACT THAT all of this can be happening and he can still look at his partner and go "you're right. But I love you still, and I'll protect you for everything you've given me. Just give me time."

IM SO NORMAL ABOUT A!A 😫 I DONT CARE--

Shared this rambling with some server friends the other day, but I was rewatching some Ascended Astarion dialogue (swimming in the brainrot, as one does), and was struck by one of the dialogue options in the conversation after he turns Tav. I hadn't really given it much focus/attention previously.

You can say something like "You've seemed distant since the ritual" and when he responds, he owns it, saying something like "huh, maybe you're right," before going on to wax about how everything seems so much slower because his new instincts are kicking in, and he's still riding the tide of that change.

I thought it was sweet and sort of telling that while he doesn't apologize for it, he acknowledges his SO's feelings/assessment of it as a fair one, and offers them insight into his own current feelings of acclimating to this monumental change he's going through.

And I think this gets glossed over because yes, he's a bit arrogant here, he's still Astarion after all, but he doesn't rebuke his partner for pointing this out. There's a level of care and responsibility he shows his partner by accepting their assessment, offering his own feelings on the matter, and clarifying that any distancing between them isn't intentional or out of lack of love. It's in his own Astarion sort of way, but I see it as an attempt to reassure his partner all the same.

And, as a friend pointed out to me, his insistence that his powers will come with time could be out of want to reassure his SO they made the right decision, and that Astarion will be their protector here on out instead of the other way around (see also: "You need not fear anything.")

It might not be the most popular interpretation, but interactions like this make me feel like if his consort was like "hey you seem upset" or distant or angry or anything like that in the future, he would listen earnestly and attempt to assuage those concerns/admit to his role in them.

It's the implications that his SO is being deprived or left wanting for something (like freedom for example) that provoke the angry reactions from him, as he feels very strongly that he's providing everything for them and sees himself in that provider role, I think he takes that as more of an insult than an observation.