Caine, Jax, Pomni X Shy!sweet!child!reader Who Hates Loud Noises (platonic)

yaaay update finally :p another slow one. not sure why this one took so long, it looks sort of ugly but i dont feel like working on it anymore. luckily the next one will be more eventful so i'll probably get on it sooner

if youve noticed, alice and julius have not been referred to by name in this comic. in vantablank, theyre just "the director" and "the assistant". i don't want to confuse anyone, so im just prefacing now that they will be called this for the entire duration of the comic.

previous

Wonder what are they looking for?

Virtue of Harmony

Okay. I have this idea for CRK fandoms out there. This is my cookie OC. Her name is Sweet Butter Cookie. She is the youngest of the beast cookie. Appearing last from the rest of the beast because of some reason.

I can only draw this much, Kinda torn of making her dress colorful to represent harmony or just do the green color for none of the beast is using that color...

If you notice, she is kinda inspired by Glinda. Singing a musical is kinda her thing to spread joy and harmony to all of the cookies. I imagine back in pre-corruption beast, she has this sort of followers that sing for the background voice like how the musical usually does.

If you guys want more of her lore, just ask. I will drop the story soon.

Crowns (fragment)

Now that you know Crowns and their characters, I can show you one of my favourite fragments. As a follower, Narinder persists in trying to regain power and, well… Lamb was predicted by most of them.

About Crowns: part 1 part 2

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Vol. 3, chapter 1: "Crowns"

Narinder was lying on the ground, as they expected. He wasn't breathing. Lamb glanced at the Crowns, but these were motionless. Their eyes stared blindly into space as if in fact they were just sculptures. Then Lamb looked over the followers. Someone was clearly wanting vomiting when he noticed the dead body.

Lamb raised a hand to their forehead and rubbed the space between their eyes. Then they sharply looked up.

"Everyone... get out," they growled at the followers, and they obediently began to gather.

"Shall we... take the body, leader?" one of the marauders asked hesitantly.

"I don't see a body here to take somewhere," said the Lamb coldly. "I see a follower sleeping on the grass."

"But..."

A look in the Lamb's eyes told the overzealous one: that any moment - and he and the new follower would switch places. He hurried away from this place. Lamb, having made sure that they were all obediently far from there, turned an angry glare at the Crowns.

"What were you not supposed to do?!" he exclaimed mentally, and this was redirected to the Crowns as a very loud scream by Red Crown. The artifacts of power twitched. If they had lips, they probably would have grimaced.

"We were supposed to stop him from reaching for us," Yellow Crown announced almost aggressively.

"You weren't supposed to kill him!"

"We didn't kill him," she replied. After a while it added. "He died himself. After a while."

Lamb was rubbed at the bridge of its nose again. "Cause of death?" they asked to Red Crown.

“It seems like a large electric charge has burned his internal organs."

"Blue, do you know anything about large electric charges?"

"I didn't do anything!" Blue Crown defended himself almost desperately. His domain was the broadly understood arts, including magic and science.

"Yeah... because you are too much of a coward and you are afraid of Narinder, even in this flawed form," Yellow sneered contemptuously. "It's not him, Lamb."

Lamb directed their gaze to the Green Crown. Their domain was chaos and wild forces of nature. This one tried to look as innocent as possible. Lamb's eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

They was still silent. The rest of the Crowns glanced at it curiously.

"Okay! Maybe I exaggerated", Green finally grunted. "But he was already putting his dirty hands on me! I reacted instinctively... You could have hidden us," they said accusingly to Lamb. "Or at least apply a protection spell."

"No. He had to learn a lesson. Though I hadn't planned that his lesson would bring him to Limbo so soon." Lamb sighed deeply, then bent over the body. "Stupid cat... He could at least try to pretend that he is not planning this..."

"By the way, Lamb..." Yellow Crown's voice sounded sweet. "Why don't you just give him a moment... Let him sit in the world below, I'm sure the rest of the family are very happy about this unexpected visit and..."

"Narinder doesn't go to Hell for the gods..." Lamb announced coldly, focusing. "After his death, he lands in Limbo, chained, with chains I created for him out of faith and suffering of the followers of particular domains."

The Crowns were amazed. They exchanged slightly nervous and partly surprised or even terrified glances. Only Purple didn't look surprised, but only sighed heavily.

"You created... chains?" Yellow repeated.

"Yes. And Limbo inside the Limbo. You know... such a Limbo through which souls cannot pass on the way to hell..."

"Wait... you have created a place where Narinder is genuinely all alone and in addition chained with chains through which flows the suffering of all beings in all domains?"

They looked at them. They raised an eyebrow as if saying "what, am I indistinctly speaking?" For the first time, something strange appeared in Crown's eyes - something like fear, and in part even respect. If the Yellow Crown had a mouth, she would have whistled in awe. Blue seemed to be incredulous.

"It's... so cruel," he said. "I don't think even Heket would do something like this..."

"Right," said Yellow. And then she became a little worried. "But maybe..."

"Get him out of there!" Green Crown almost demanded. They seemed nervous. "If I had known I'd send him there... Even he doesn't deserve something like that! In fact, even if he touched me and picked me up, I would just refuse to cooperate. I didn't know he was landing in Limbo! Bring him back!"

"And you think what am I trying to do!" snapped Lamb. "You're distracting me! Shut up now!"

They closed their eyes, placing a hand on the dead cat's chest. Then they lifted it slightly, opening eyes. A light appeared in them, as well as between his hooves on the tips of his fingers and the dead cat's chest. The light in his eyes, however, soon turned red, and blood began to trickle from them down his cheeks, dripping onto the ground, as always with stronger spells and rituals. Narinder's body shuddered and lifted slightly into the air. Then it hit the ground violently - and the cat took a sharp breath, as if he were a shipwrecked man who had just been successfully resuscitated. He jumped up with fear in his eyes.

For a moment he looked genuinely terrified. He clearly didn't know where he was, his hands clenched into fists as if they were handcuffed. After a moment he saw the Lamb, his stern expression. The light in their eyes dimmed, and the cat saw an angry glare. Narinder glanced sideways at the Crowns. He swallowed.

"Oh-oh…" he said, then dropped to the grass. "Can I ask you for one more lightning..."

"Oh no!" growled Lamb, getting up. They grabbed his robe, pulling him to his feet. Narinder was surprised - he hadn't thought Lamb was so strong before. It mean, he knew they had great power, but he didn't think that physically, without using spells, they could lift him almost effortlessly. "What was that, Nari?"

The cat shrugged. "You can't be angry I tried," he grumbled. "You told me yourself where the crowns are. You haven't hidden them since then. I had to try. But those damn hats don't seem to like me," he growled.

"Are you surprised?" Lamb snorted. "You ordered the killing of their owners, and before that you mutilated them."

"Well... yes, but now they are no longer associated with them..."

He looked at Crowns. He had a strange feeling that they were making fun of him. Lamb, who was still hearing what the Crowns said and how they acted, narrowed their eyes.

"Yeah, you entertain them," they snorted. "And now you're coming with me."

With those words, they moved forward. The cat didn't move, standing there staring with undisguised hatred at the Crowns. Lamb waved their hand in the air and snapped their finger - and Narinder suddenly felt as if someone had kicked him. He was surprised, but after a moment's hesitation he followed the cult leader, growling curses under his breath.

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Tom 3, rozdział 1: "Korony"

Na ziemi, jak się spodziewało, leżał Narinder. Nie oddychał. Jego ciemnoszare futro wyglądało na nieruszone, oczy były zamknięte, wszystkie trzy. Jagnię rzuciło spojrzenie na Korony, ale te były nieruchome. Ich oczy patrzyły ślepo w przestrzeń, jakby faktycznie były tylko rzeźbami. Potem Jagnię potoczyło wzrokiem po wyznawcach. Komuś wyraźnie zbierało się na wymioty, gdy dostrzegł martwe ciało.

Jagnię uniosło dłoń do czoła i pomasowało przestrzeń między oczami. Potem gwałtownie podniosło głowę.

- Wszyscy... wynocha - warknęło na wyznawców, a ci posłusznie zaczęli się zbierać.

- Czy... mamy uprzątnąć ciało, liderze? - zapytał niepewnie jeden z maruderów.

- Ja nie widzę tutaj ciała do uprzątnięcia - stwierdziło chłodno Jagnię. - Widzę tu wyznawcę, który śpi na trawie.

- Ale...

Spojrzenie w oczy Jagnięcia powiedziało nadgorliwcowi, że lada moment, a on i nowy wyznawca zamienią się miejscami. Pospiesznie oddalił się z tego miejsca. Jagnię natomiast, upewniwszy się, że wszyscy posłusznie znaleźli się daleko od tego miejsca, zwróciło wściekłe spojrzenie na Korony.

- Czego miałyście nie robić?! - zawołał w myślach, a to zostało przekierowane do Koron jako bardzo głośny krzyk przez Czerwoną Koronę. Artefakty mocy drgnęły. Gdyby miały usta, pewnie by się skrzywiły.

- Miałyśmy nie pozwolić mu sięgnąć po nas - oznajmiła niemal zaczepnie Żółta Korona.

- Miałyście go nie zabijać!

- Nie zabiłyśmy - odparła. Po chwili dorzuciła. - Sam umarł. Po chwili.

Jagnię znów pomasowało nasadę nosa.

- Przyczyna zgonu? - rzuciło do Czerwonej Korony.

- Zdaje się, że spory ładunek elektryczny spalił mu wewnętrzne narządy.

- Niebieski, wiesz coś może o potężnych ładunkach elektrycznych?

- Nic nie zrobiłem! - broniła się niemal rozpaczliwie Niebieska Korona. Jej domeną była szeroko pojęta sztuka, w tym magia i nauka.

- Ta... bo jesteś zbyt wielkim tchórzem i boisz się Narindera, nawet w tej ułomnej postaci - prychnęła pogardliwie Żółta. - To nie on, Jagnię.

Jagnię skierowało spojrzenie na Zieloną Koronę. Jej domeną był chaos i dzikie siły natury. Starała się teraz wyglądać możliwie najniewinniej. Zmrużyło oczy.

- Słucham?

Nadal milczała. Pozostałe Korony zerkały w jej stronę zaciekawione.

- No, dobra! Może przesadziłom - burknęła wreszcie. - Ale już kładł na mnie te swoje brudne łapy! Zareagowałom instynktownie... Mogłeś nas ukryć - rzuciła oskarżycielsko do Jagnięcia. - Albo chociaż nałożyć zaklęcie ochronne.

- Nie. Musiał dostać nauczkę. Choć nie planowałom, że tak szybko jego nauczka sprowadzi go do Limbo. - Jagnię westchnęło głęboko, a potem pochyliło się nad ciałem. - Durny kot... Mógł chociaż spróbować udawać, że tego nie planuje...

- Swoją drogą, Jagnię... - głos Żółtej Korony zabrzmiał słodyczą. - Może daj mu jeszcze chwilę... Niech sobie posiedzi na dole, jestem pewna, że pozostała część rodziny bardzo się cieszy z tej nieoczekiwanej wizyty i...

- Narinder nie trafia do piekła dla bogów... - oznajmiło chłodno Jagnię, skupiając się. - Po śmierci ląduje w Limbo, zakuty w łańcuchy, które dla niego stworzyłem z wiary i cierpienia wyznawców poszczególnych domen.

Korony zdumiały się. Wymieniły lekko nerwowe, a po części zdziwione lub nawet przerażone spojrzenia. Jedynie Fioletowa nie wyglądała na zdziwioną, a jedynie ciężko westchnęła.

- Stworzyłeś... łańcuchy? - powtórzyła Żółta.

- Tak. I Limbo wewnątrz Limba. Wiecie... takie Limbo, przez które nie przechodzą dusze w drodze do piekła...

- Zaraz... stworzyłeś miejsce, w którym autentycznie Narinder jest całkiem sam i w dodatku skuty łańcuchami, przez które przepływa cierpienie wszystkich istot we wszystkich domenach?

Popatrzyło na nie. Uniosło brew, jakby mówiło "a co, niewyraźnie mówię?". Po raz pierwszy w oczach Koron pojawiło się coś dziwnego - coś jakby lęk, a po części nawet szacunek. Gdyby Żółta Korona miała usta, zagwizdałaby z podziwiem. Niebieska zdawała się niedowierzać.

- To... takie okrutne - oznajmiła. - Chyba nawet Heket nie zdobyłaby się na coś takiego...

- Prawda - zgodziła się Żółta. A potem lekko zaniepokoiła się. - To może jednak...

- Wyciągnij go stamtąd! - niemal zażądała Zielona Korona. Wydawała się nerwowa. - Gdybym wiedziało, że tam go poślę... Nawet on nie zasługuje na coś takiego! W gruncie rzeczy, nawet jakby mnie dotknął i podniósł, po prostu odmówiłobym współpracy. Nie wiedziałom, że ląduje w Limbo! Wezwij go!

- A co ja próbuję zrobić! - warknęło Jagnię. - Rozpraszacie mnie! Zamknijcie się wreszcie!

Zamknął oczy, kładąc dłoń na piersi martwego kota. A potem uniósł ją lekko, otwierając ślepia. Pojawiło się w nich światło, podobnie jak między jego kopytkami na końcu palców a piersią zmarłego. Światło w oczach jednak zaraz zasnuło się czerwienią, a krew zaczęła ciurkać z nich po policzkach, kapiąc na ziemię, jak zawsze w przypadku silniejszych zaklęć i rytuałów. Ciało Narindera zadrżało i delikatnie uniosło się w powietrze. Potem gwałtownie uderzyło o ziemię - a kot wziął gwałtowny wdech, jakby był rozbitkiem, na którym właśnie przeprowadzono udane sztuczne oddychanie. Poderwał się ze strachem w oczach.

Przez chwilę wyglądał na autentycznie przerażonego. Wyraźnie nie wiedział, gdzie jest, unosząc zaciśnięte dłonie w pięści, jakby trzymał je skute. Po chwili dostrzegł Jagnię, jego surową minę. Światło w oczach przygasło i kot zauważył wściekłe spojrzenie. Narinder zerknął w bok na korony. Przełknął ślinę.

- O-oł... - rzucił, a potem opadł na trawę. - Poproszę jeszcze raz piorunem.

- O nie! - warknęło Jagnię, podnosząc się. Szarpnęło go za szatę, stawiając na nogi. Narinder zdumiał się - dotąd nie przypuszczał, że jest takie silne. Znaczy, wiedział, że ma wielką moc, ale nie sądził, że fizycznie, bez używania zaklęć, jest w stanie go podźwignąć niemal bez wysiłku. - Co to było, Nari?

Kot wzruszył ramionami.

- Nie możesz mieć żalu, że próbowałem - burknął. - Sam mi powiedziałeś, gdzie są korony. Nie schowałeś ich od tamtego czasu. Musiałem spróbować. Ale te przeklęte czapki chyba mnie nie lubią - warknął.

- A dziwisz się? - prychnęło Jagnię. - Zleciłeś zabicie ich właścicieli, a wcześniej ich okaleczyłeś.

- No... niby tak, ale teraz już nie są z nimi związane...

Zerknął na Korony. Miał dziwne wrażenie, że się z niego nabijają. Jagnię, które nadal słyszało to, co mówiły i jak się zachowywały Korony, zmrużyło oczy.

- Tak, mocno je bawisz - prychnęło. - A teraz idziesz ze mną.

Po tych słowach ruszyło przed siebie. Kot nie drgnął, stojąc w miejscu i patrząc z nieskrywaną nienawiścią na Korony. Jagnię machnęło dłonią w powietrzu i pstryknęło palcem - i Narinder poczuł nagle, jakby ktoś go kopnął. Zdumiał się, ale po chwili wahania ruszył za liderem kultu, powarkując pod nosem przekleństwa.

Concatless Payment

the lamb: yall mind if i explode into tentacles

havin a little fun with the lamb and potential tentacle body horror because i think sometimes they should be gross. why SHOULDN'T these God creatures be an affront to the nature of creation

You're dead !!!

Chapter 4.5 [ The Chosens ] Page 2

Sleepover

Belcher and Pines Sleepover, poor Louise :(

GUNS !!!

Ford, are you aware your brother has 10 guns hidden around the shack?

Stanley: Shh, don't let Poindexter overhear ya! He's gonna kill me if he finds out-

Stanford: *Walking into the room, preoccupied with a demonic owl chick of some sort that's currently sleeping in his hair.* Ah, Stan, I see you're answering another ask from our blog. What's this one about?

Stanley: N-nothin'! *Switches to another internet tab quick.* Nothin' at all, don't worry about it, it's a question for me. Totally boring.

Stanford: Oh, really? *Raises brow.* Then why did the question start with 'Ford'? You know, my name?

Stanley: Uh...

*Stan glances around and starts to sweat bullets. How best to distract Ford? Then Stan grins. He knows just the trick.*

Stanley: Ya know... a more important question to ask, is... is the Patterson-Gimlin film legit?

Stanford: *A very intense, serious expression carves through his face. It's the face of a man with a strong opinion and just the right amount of ire to defend it, perhaps fueled by years of arguments over this very same exact question; a look akin to what someone on Twitter pulls right before they decide compassion and humanity is overrated, and being right is more important as they begin to rage-smash their keyboard.* Stan, I'm glad you asked. Because I think you're smart enough - and spent enough years as a conman - to know the difference between something real and something faked. The Patterson film is real, and I, Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines, the world's greatest paranormal scientist and cryptozoologist, will die on this hill.

Stanley: Yes, exactly! *Stan looks relieved that the distraction worked.* Of course I agree. I mean, why wouldn't I? You tell 'em, Ford! Tell the world how legit the Patterson film is. Preferably in a different room than this one with your, uh... *Stan looks at the demonic owl chick sleeping in Ford's hair.* Whatever that is.

Stanford: *Smugly petting said demonic owl chick.* Hm, a better idea would be to utilize our ask blog to educate the populace on supernatural concepts such as this. I always wanted a platform to extend my knowledge to the world. I mean, teaching math to a whale was impressive enough, but imagine the paranormal knowledge I could spread with the power of the internet! *He chuckles.* Bill Nye and Neil DeGrasse Tyson better watch out, because a new popular scientist in media is in town. Stan, for the sake of knowledge, I'm going to need you to let me borrow our blog laptop for the afternoon.

Stanley: *Sweating bullets again.* W-what!? Not right now, Ford! You can have it later when I'm done with this one question. Just... gimme a little bit longer-

Stanford: Science cannot wait, Stanley. Hand it over.

Stanley: Alright, fine! Just lemme type somethin' quick and- h-hey!

Stanford: *Ford takes the laptop away from Stan and starts walking off with it.* Great, you already have the ask blog up. Time to...

*Ford sees the question about the ten guns in the Shack. He pauses.*

Stanley: Ford! Ford, I can explain... just let me... just hand the laptop back over and we can forget-

Stanford: *His voice cold.* Ten guns, Stan? Ten of them?

Stanley: It's... it's not what you think!

Stanford: Stan, you do know Dipper and Mabel live here in the summers, right? And you're telling me that you have ten guns around the Shack?

Stanley: Ford, just... *His expression turns defiant and mad.* Yeah, you know what? I've got ten guns! What of it!? Go ahead and judge me, Poindexter! You've always been good at that, haven't ya!?

Stanford: *Eyes narrowing.* Oh, I'm judging you, all right. Stan, I'm sorry, but I have no choice other than to host an emergency family meeting. We need to discuss this with Dipper and Mabel immediately. They must know about this. And then we can rectify this dangerous matter.

Stanley: Ford, really, it's fine, we don't need-

Stanford: *His voice ringing through the whole Shack.* Family meeting! Family meeting!

Three hours later...

*Stan, Ford, Dipper, Mabel are in the living room of the Shack at the dining table, where they usually host their family meetings. Stan looks more pissed than he has all day, Dipper looks nervous and confused, Mabel looks excited, and Ford is standing up by a chalkboard on wheels, multiple rules written on it, and he looks quite pleased.*

Stanford: Now, one final time, let's repeat the Pines family gun rules before this meeting comes to an end.

Stanley: Sweet Moses, Ford, isn't this overkill?

Mabel: Don't listen to Grunkle Stan! I am 1000% on board with all of these rules. *She pets the demonic owl chick that was sleeping in Ford's hair earlier and gives it a cheese flavored chip to eat.* Nice job, Grunkle Ford!

Dipper: I think Grunkle Stan has a point, though. Grunkle Ford, no offense, but-

Stanford: No buts! Now, repeat the rules, everyone!

Dipper, Mabel, and Stanley: *Stan and Dipper looking both annoyed, and Mabel looking very amused, they repeat the rules aloud in unison.*

Rule one, whenever a cryptid, government agent, evil being, or any kind of potential enemy of the Pines family comes to the door, carry a gun.

Rule two, everyone living in the Shack shall keep a gun or similar weapon by their bed at night in the case of a nighttime supernatural emergency.

Rule three, do not be afraid to brandish a gun whenever anyone asks too many questions about Stan's criminal past, Ford's research and/or interdimensional criminal past, or threatens to hurt Dipper or Mabel, either their feelings or physically.

Rule four, all members of the Pines family and their employees must be trained to use at least three different kinds of weapons.

Rule five, there must never be less than thirty guns hidden in the Shack at all times, preferably two per room and three per bedroom. Ten is not enough, no matter what Stan claims.

Rule six, when in doubt, Ford has the last say on anything related to weaponry and defense related matters in the Shack. Or else.

Stanford: Very good. Does anyone have any objections? Wait. *He chuckles deeply.* No, of course you don't, because these rules are forged from hard-earned lessons from the three decades I spent in the Multiverse, and they make perfect logical, ethical sense and are foolproof from accidents. Don't worry, I'll make sure all of these guns are kept in protective, cheap plastic cases.

Dipper: And here I thought living in the Shack every summer was crazy enough already. *He sighs and lets his head drop to the table.* Seriously, this is dumb.

Mabel: Grunkle Ford, why are you so badass and cool!? Grunkle Stan never let us use any guns last summer!

Stanley: Gee, I wonder why? *He sighs, then goes back to typing on Stan and Ford's shared laptop they use to answer blog questions.* Thanks, asker, for askin' about the ten guns I had around the Shack. I'll have you know that all of this is your fault.