A Slightly Different Minecraft Trailer

Created my first ever cosplay prop, made for my sister who is going as Goat this weekend to a con!!

It's pretty ugly, but for my first time, not too bad!!

ITS FINALLY DONE! BEHOLD!!!

Ratau x Rat Dance

Drawing 200+ Frames just for 20 seconds is insane..

HOPE YAL LIKE IT🐀✨️

TW: Death, Vomiting, Angst, Resurrection, “Bad” COTL ending with a Twist

Returning the Red Crown had always been the plan from the get go. Maveth had spent numerous days planning and mapping out instructions for their following. Writing personalized letters that were to be handed out, given they not return.

They’d talked with their God about it in length, thankful He’d not spurred the choice on them last minute. They were glad to have that respect.

Though they knew it would be hell, this was not the way they’d thought things would be. Maveth watched the Red Crown rise above them, hoisting the Lamb up with it, it’s eye glowing a vibrate crimson before blood dripped from its gaze.

It was the worst pain imaginable.

They've died hundreds to thousands of times, but the agonizing feeling of power draining from your body?

The pain of bones snapping and bending in unnatural proportions? The feeling of burning as your life blood drips from every orifice in your body, draining not only power you’ve held for 50+ years, but your very essence?

They feel hollow. They feel pain. They feel everything they haven't felt in near fifty decades: hunger, exhaustion, agony, anguish.

Their mind clears without the cursed energy of the Red Crown clouding their mind.

Memories and feelings come flooding back. It had been so long since Maveth could remember the faces of their family; and the thought of possibly seeing them again has them in tears.

And suddenly, the pain is gone, pushed into the back of their mind as tears mix with blood, and a smile creeps onto their shaky lips, still floating in the air, wanting nothing more than to reach out and hug the soft visage of a mother and sister they hadn’t seen in forever.

They can remember their names. The way they sound. The soft feel of their mother’s arms around them, the feel of her wool, the feel of their sister’s hands as they were trying to teach them how to sign as a child.

Briefly, they thought of Haantre, the father figure theyd grown to love, and Baz, socially inept and loving, and even the damned Goat that would pop through every once in awhile. Would they get to see them again? Would they be alright if they didn’t come back?

And then they were falling back down. Fear crept into their broken and aching bones before nothing. Nothing except darkness and the soft sounds of a bell ringing out against the dark abyss behind closed eyelids.

Time slowed to a near stop and Maveth could finally move, their back resting gently against the soft rolling sands of the -

Wherever they were. This wasn’t the Gateway anymore.

There is no God. There are no chains. Just the soft cloudy white mist and gentle hum of music. Their wool was clean, brushed, even, along with their ritual fleece - the simple red and white one they’d been given at the very start of their journey. It’s what they chose to wear that specific day, instead of their normal shawl and cloak.

A hand raised to their throat, the soft skin and fur no longer having that dull ache they’d grown accustomed to. Their mouth opened, and Maveth made a quiet, testing noise before a grin broke out on their lips.

“I can speak,” they said, quiet, but clear. The rasp they’d carried no longer present.

The Lamb hadn’t noticed the missing bell on their horn. Just the one that jingled against their collar as they jumped around excitedly, feeling light and weightless. They laughed and sang and cried out joyously, kicking at the white sands beneath their hooves, eyes glisteningly wet with happy tears.

They stopped abruptly, ears lifting as a sound came from further away. A singsong voice, one they knew well. It only took a moment in time before the sheep took off, a hand reaching up to unclasp the fleece they wore, the fabric flying away behind them, billowing in the wind, clothed in nothing but the wool they were born in, their collar and bell, and a piece of blue ratted fabric wrapped around a single horn.

Arms outstretched, Maveth ran right into the misty looking form of their mother, a large dark standing sheep with valleys of thick wool covering her body, sticking out from the holes in sleeves and the collar of a never ending white dress.

She looked as beautiful as the day Maveth had lost her.

Arms encircling one another, Maveth sobbing into her chest, the smaller Lamb feeling like a young child once again being comforted by their parent. They didn’t feel sad or angry or anything other than gentle affection. Longing. Love.

“Oh, Maven, look at how you’ve grown,” the sheep said quietly, lifting her child’s face between her fingers. She wiped away tears and smiled gently before turning her head to the side and making a pointed nod.

Maveth followed her gaze, brows knitting upwards, snot and tears running down their face, before reaching out and tugging the other sheep in close, their hand digging in against the soft downy wool of their older sister.

No more aching. No more pain.

This was all they had wanted for so long. To touch and be with their family. To love and be loved. To stay by His side. To-

His?

Oh, yes. His.

A look of knowing crossed their mother’s face, and she smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Maveth’s forehead. “Cherin and I be waiting for you,” she said softly, fingers brushing back wayward bangs from their eyes. They looked to their sister, who was signing to them. ‘We love you.’

And then hands meshed through their figures, and Maveth cried out, reaching through their bodies to try and take them back. To hold them one last time.

“No - no! I’m not ready, please-“ they cried, eyes wide and fearful. “Please, mama, Cher, no-“

Suddenly, they were pulled back through the sands, unknown claws grasping under their arms as the Lamb screamed, thrashing against the immovable force.

They were lifted up higher until they hit the highest clouds and -

Maveth sat up in Death’s arms, the God now small, but still large compared to themselves. His gaze was intense but warm as he watched them wake once more, a hand moving away from their face.

Screaming, crying. They clutched at their fleece, sucking in trembling breaths, mouth open and drooling down their chin. They could remember everything. Every death. Every life. They couldn’t feel it now, but the echoes of lifetimes of aches were etched into their mind.

They remembered their mother and Cherin. It had been so long since they remembered their names or the sounds of their voice.

Panic rose in their chest and quickly, they hunched over, dry heaving into the sands, nothing but spit and saliva leaving their empty stomach.

And, oh Gods - the hunger. They’d never felt a hunger like this. Even before vesselhood, they’d lived on a farm.

Their mortal body was weak now. Hollow from power, but filled with memory. Maveth didn’t know which they’d preferred.

“Breathe,” a voice came from behind them, a hand resting to their back. It was familiar. Of course it was.

Maveth turned to look over their shoulder to their God, their body trembling. Eyes widen before softening once more, they hiccuped and turned to bow, their forehead in the sands before Him.

They wanted to throw hands with Him for bringing them back. Even though it was what they had asked for. Begged for, even.

Gently, a soft hand brushed through their wool, a pleased noise coming from the black cat. From Death. From Narinder, from their God.

Three red eyes pierced through them. The Red Crown settled easily upon his head, the pupil staring directly to the lamb.

“Welcome back.”

50 narinder questions

1. When did your Narinder aquire the Red Crown? Was he born into the role or did the crown choose him for a particular reason?

2. Why does the red crown find him worthy as a bearer?

3. What did his childhood look like? Did he live with the other crown bearers?

4. Does the Red Crown give him any unique powers such as the power of rot (a la TROD AU)?

5. How did he feel about Shamura pre-exile?

6. How about post exile?

7. Which sibiling was his favorite? Least favorite?

8. What weapon did he use prior to exile?

9. Do you have headcanons about who his witnesses or ‘bosses’ would be pre-exile? If so, who are they?

10. Did Narinder take any lovers before his exile?

11. How did Narinder feel about his priests, witnesses, and followers?

12. Does he have a dedicated meow button?

13. Does your Narinder have any unique features?

14. Is he based on any particular breed of cat such as a puma or a British shorthair?

15. Describe his fur. Is it unkempt? Well-groomed? Curly? Kept short?

16. Is, and I cannot stress this enough, his tail so, so fluffy?

17. How ears is he on a scale of 1-10? (This is not a typo)

18. Was he born with his third eye or did he gain it later from the crown?

19. Any notable scars post-exile other than around his wrists?

20. Did your Narinder have any disabilities prior to his exile?

21. Does he have any new disabilities upon being spared?

22. How does he pass the time in exile?

23. Are the kits, Aym and Baal, really his children?

24. How does he feel towards Aym and Baal? Ambivalent? Caring? Annoyed?

25. Why does he wear the veil? Or does he forgo it entirely?

26. How and when was the prophecy that he would rebel against the others revealed?

27. How did the others react to this prophecy before it happened?

28. Did he feel doomed by the prophecy? Relieved? Offended? Vindicated?

29. What exact rebellious act got him chained in the first place?

30. What are some of the biggest emotions he feels about being chained?

31. Deep down.. does he agree that it was necessary?

32. Does he have any remorse for harming his sibilings? If so, does he ever show it?

33. Does he care that an entire species and culture was ended because of him?

34. What was his first impression of the lamb?

35. When did he realize the lamb might turn against him? Was he blind to it until it happened or did he have a gut feeling long before then?

36. Does/Did he enjoy the lamb’s visits?

37. How does he feel about the lamb after being spared?

38. Does he support or partake in cannibalism?

39. Does he take a lover other than the lamb after being spared? If so, describe them!

40. What is his biggest struggle after being spared? Fitting in with the cult? Seeing the lamb’s face daily? Chronic pain?

41. Does your Nari use any pronouns besides he/him? If so, what ones?

42. Was he born male, female, intersex, or do you have no opinion on his sex?

43. Does he ever wear jewelry or makeup?

44. Has he ever used catnip? If so, what happened?

45. Is identity kept a secret from the cult? If so, do any of the followers recognize who he really is?

46. Describe his personality.

47. Is he shy about any topics? Does he enjoy talking about anything in particular?

48. Does he ever rethink the concept of sacrificing followers now that he is one?

49. Is his favorite food anything other than fish? If so, what is it?

50. Free headcanon space!

Back by… well no demand actually but 1400 notes made me think y’all might be interested, so come get your cat-lore-generating questions.

And please! If you reblog from someone, send that person an ask. It’s ask meme courtesy.

Hello can i dm you

lol ok?

goat axe!

yall I did the axe. Basic axe for now. What weapon is next? Man idk

“Many people seem to think it foolish, even superstitious, to believe that the world could still change for the better. And it is true that in winter it is sometimes so bitingly cold that one is tempted to say, ‘What do I care if there is a summer; its warmth is no help to me now.’ Yes, evil often seems to surpass good. But then, in spite of us, and without our permission, there comes at last an end to the bitter frosts. One morning the wind turns, and there is a thaw. And so I must still have hope.”

— Vincent Van Gogh

🎉DRAW THIS IN YOUR STYLE🎉

To celebrate my 400 followers on Instagram, I’m hosting a #dtiys ! 🥹

I’m super excited and nervous, it’s my first dtiys

I love this stupid cat okay 😭❤️

Nari enjoying his freedom after his defeat

Imagine this boy feeling grass, the sun on his face, birds singing, everything so colorful, etc. for the first time in 1000+ years 🥺🥺

RULES

-you’re allowed to change a bit the background and pose

- Tag #threefoxdtiys and mention me so I can easily find your participation ❤️

WINNERS:

🥇1st win a full body illustration

🥈2nd win a half body illustration

🥉3rd win a headshot illustration

⚠️DEADLINE 01 FEBRUARY 2025⚠️

Enjoy! 🥰