send 💀💍 - and my muse shall name at least 3 items they always carry with them ( bonus "and why" ).

send 👜 - and my muse shall name at least 1 item that accidentally found a way into their pocket ( bonus "and how" ).

[ art credit: "Vanitas Still-Life" by Edwart Collier ]

🎵 ask the muse any question(s) and the mun shall reply using ONLY song lyrics.

[ art credit: "The Lute Player " by Theodor Rombouts ]

@fallesto "Master witcher! This...this is unthinkable!" Natanis' disapproval would have been scalding...only if it hadn't been spoken in such a tiny voice. Oh, she was frozen with horror, like a magical lamb being carried away by a hungry forest hag from the particularly scary fairy-tale. Quickly, all the terrible tales of witchers and their bloodcurdling habits came alive in her mind and she shut her eyes and her dainty fists tightly, daring not to move a hair. How sad my dear lambkin Nissa would be if a witcher gobbled her poor, trusting sister... A flashing thought about her twin in tears - because Nistana would cry her heart out, guessing for days and nights on end about her unknown fate. And Nissa had a soft fang for drama - made Natanis' blood run hotly again. "This is highly improper! Do you think you can treat me in such a rude manner because I am a modest seamstress or a poor, lonely succubus?" a tail found Geralt's cheek and gave it a sound slap. Natanis' puffed like an angry ram into his ear. If he was a monstrous, avaricious slayer that lured a helpless horned maiden in by pretense and false tales, that gesture would hasten her end. Let it be! She would not go down - literally - without a fight!

"And our mutual friends spoke so highly of you! You should be ashamed! If you are truly Geralt of Rivia that since last year resides at Corvo Bianco," for a better effect she dangled her hoofs in a threatening manner. Just slightly. Polished and carefully trimmed they were, with a special coat of cinnammon-smelling oil, but also heavy enough to be considered a menace. "If you longed to see my fur of the rarest shade...I...I could forgive you. But I do not show my endowment to anyone, non! I am a gentle maiden. You should confess your love to me first and wait for my reply and consent," the horned coquette added thoughtfully.

“There is a first time for everything, not going to complain if this is a fight over dresses and ribbons.” As he would chuckle lightly for the moment, it would beat burning cities, dragons, trolls and swamps, so much horror he has been through and so many times he has been killed and here he was, still alive and still walking upon the path forward.

He moved and looked through the cart, knowing that at any given time, she could turn and high tail it out of here and there would be little to stop her, but unless she wished to be found and thrown right back into a cage, it would be wiser to remain with him.

“Of course, I am happy to have helped, with that task.” To walk to a cart …

Then again, he was more than used to doing fetch quests and simple contracts as well, anything that brought in coin and seemed to be worth doing, then why not, might as well do it and see what comes out from this, bandits, a cage, a monster, dresses and a duchess, he might not even have to say anything to the poet, this story was writing itself as if he was here, making it all happen.

“Relax, got rules, follow them as well, don’t make it often to break my word.” As he stood there.

Looking down at her as she blocked the path, he could walk around her, or step up and over her with some effort, she really was not keeping him from going anywhere. “Don’t hurt innocents, like you, don’t have to worry, your not a threat, don’t mean it in a bad way either, means your like everyone else in this land, just trying to make a living, enjoy life and not get into trouble, problem is …” As he grunted. “… trouble always finds a way to ruin things.” He doubted there was anything more to be worried about, so he would walk forward.

She was looking at him as if he was a monster himself, didn’t need to loot the dead, didn’t need to steal, witchers had a poor name, people hated them as much as it was, so little of them left now anyway, all he could do was be judged on his name and his actions, that was it, he treats people, how he would wish to be treated, nothing more and nothing less.

“Relax, not leaving you out here, even if it was not part of the contract. Never leave anyone in a bad situation as well, always try and do the right thing, you know, how things are meant to be.” As he looked down at her holding his hand and chuckled once more. “Don’t think a griffin is going to be coming down here anytime soon, your too small, not enough meat on the bones, not worth the effort to swallow you up, would take a horse over a little goat like you.” As he walked forward a little bit. “No ghouls here, nor archespore, already checked, you’re not going to be eaten, or swallowed, stepped on or flung around, you ought to know, most of your kind call the forest home, think most here, would be scared of you, for me, just looking to make time.” As he leaned forward.

Both hands slapped onto her hips and pushed.

“So you’re going up.”

As he picked her up and flung her over his shoulder and would begin to move, no more blocking the road and no more naming every single creature she can think off that did not see her as a meal to eat, only problem was bandits, and that to him, was hardly even a problem.

@fallesto "Oh, a proper seasmtress is more precious that a treasure chest! I can easily imagine myself being stolen for my craft." her proclamation was serious, but his joke and his chuckle soon shaped her own mouth into a bright, little smile. No fangs. She was a polite succubus, and they were not even on a date! The instinct told the hoofed thief it was her cue to ran, while her savior was rummaging in the cart, but...another instinct, something her twin sister bemoaned often was stronger. Curiosity. After all, it was her very first witcher, flesh and bones and two silver swords. "Thank you! Ah, thank you very rather much!" Natanis pressed the embroidered satchel to her chest, as if it was her missing heart. "Please, let's leave this terrible place." the air behind their backs still had a taste of metal and something choking, heavy and suffocating. That how brutality and violence tasted. She tried not to breath and hastened her hoofs to follow the witcher, admiring his strange clothes all the while. Why would he have so many spikes? What where those pads for? And those buttons and belts? Of course, he could lie being the geralt of rivia. But then why didn't he like the mentioning of the ballads? Would a liar do that? Would a liar have care to copy double swords, pale hair, abnormal eyes and most of all a worn out, prudent armour? Besides, the murky situation with the duchess made her wary. No matter how unpleasant the witcher's smirk looked, when he chuckled, and how nice and kind the cat-like eyes above it seemed, Natanis' was not going to loose her horns quickly. "Oh, you do not truly mean that, sangbonbon!" she gasped, and slipped in front of him, gazing deep into his face. The shock cured her of the timidity of fear. "Why, it can not be true, that you would not save a poor innocent maiden - beautiful horns or not - from the hands of rough bandits who put their victims in narrow, hideous cages? Are you lying to scare me with your chilling lies?" a dainty finger was pressed into his chest. He did not seem greedy. His blood sang differently. And his eyes were eerie, but kind. And he did not stop to collect anything from the corpses, like a person, lusting for gold would do. Nor did he ask her for anything - her pearls or her kisses, did he not?

"You insist that if not for the contract..." the horned trickster put her plump, dainty hand around his courageously, taking in the scent of leather, some unusual herbal concoctions and slightly of a horse. "...you would leave me to all terrible manners of death and ruinations, calm and cold? Even if an enormous, bloodlusty griffin swooned from the skies and put his claws into my poor, soft arms? Even if a ferocious, noxiously smelling ghoul wanted to gobble such a dainty, gentle succubus right before your glowing feline eyes? Even if an archespore, that gigantic and hideous flower, got jealous of the flowers of my cheeks you would do naught?" her voice rang with warmth and an echo of a smile, no matter how hard she tried to make the tone serious, fitting to the heartwrenching horrors she offered the witcher.

“A little bit more complex than that, might be wise to take your nose out of a book and form an opinion for yourself.” And not to judge him too much on what a certain poet has been told and wrote about, liking to mixing things up and change enough to make himself all the more wonderful.

As he didn’t well …

Shit.

Those damn books and songs that are spreading across the country about him, taking his adventures and blowing them up all the more, if they had been there, they would see it was not all fighting, saving, that sort of thing, there was a whole lot of things missed out, but he could not fault his friend for what he had done and for the fact that the witcher, felt like a side character in his own adventures as the poet had done.

A mighty fine job indeed.

Of putting himself within the hero’s shoes.

“You don’t need to tell me anything, not a knight of the duchess, not going to go to court, spread rumours, won a tournament, stopped some monsters, guess I impressed the right people.” To have a place for himself, a witcher with a home now, a vineyard as well, what did he know about such things.

Other than drinking it and getting into a warm bath.

“Don’t think you where captured and taken away, over royal outfits, but then again, I have seen stranger.” Reasons for things to happen, maybe this was all over dresses, maybe they where trying to get to the duchess.

Maybe he ought not to dig too much, and have this turn into another fine mess.

“Not been here long enough, to begin to know the best places for dresses or nightly delights, but thank you all the same.” As he waved his hand playfully back and forth before her for the moment, he was here for her, to protect her, to guide her, to bring her back to the duchess without any harm being done, a duchess was someone he did not wish to cross and find on the wrong side, she seemed, kind and gentle, but cross her, well he quite liked his head where it was right now.

Not in a rush, any kind of rush to see it removed and mounted on a spike.

“Funny way that, saying thank you for me getting you out of that cage, without the duchess and the contract, you would have been left there, not sure if they where planning to cook you and eat you, or hack you to pieces, but lucky enough, for to you just in time.” To ensure nothing bad happened to her and she lives to see another day, horns, tail, hooves and all!

“Think you are the right one, not sure if there are more cages out there filled with horn creatures matching you, duchess was quite clear, scent brought me here, not going to doubt that it is you I am looking for.” As he shifted his golden gaze and looked right at her, she didn’t need to be worried nor scared around her, he was not going to harm her in anyway at all.

“See, not a monster.” As he chuckled. “More like a maiden, that is high maintenance.” As he made his light jests at her and smirked, moving forward as he would look over to the cart and nod. “Stay here.” His hand raised, tapping her on the shoulder, as he turned and walked to the card and would look around and take and lift, the satchel for her, you see.

Nothing to it, simple enough, easy contract.

As he turned around and walked right back to her and would lean down and hand it out to her. “Right, lose a shoe, drop a brush, need anything else.” As he joked. “We need to get moving.” The sooner the better, he didn’t know why, he didn’t want to know why, someone was after her, and he needed to get her back to the duchess, in one piece.

@fallesto || x "Oh, that very one Geralt of Rivia from The Wolven Storm by Dandelion? The beloved of the raven-haired sorceress! A witcher who can love!" the petite succubus' eyes grew wider and some colour returned to her cheeks.

Oh, to meet the white wolf from the songs. It was scary, indeed, but also very, very adventurous. Of course, she would never seek a meeting with a witcher, even if he was a main protagonist of many a charming, daring ballad that often made her sister weep sweet tears of sympathy...why, they positively trembled when Geralt of Rivia visited Beauclair for the last time, cooked up in the Dreamveil like two frightened lambs before a real wolf... Oh, Nistana would be so jealous she ran into the hero of her favourite songs! She wished her lambkin was here. Then her shiny, tired hoofs would not tremble so. Nistana would devise a plan how to slip away, smooth as a song itself... "Of course Her Grace is kind and understanding! As a matter of fact she is my customer." Natanis stopped in her tracks, heedlessly dragging a witcher to stop too as only her delicate horned sisters with a muscles of iron could. And raised her curly head very high. "I am letting you know, master Geralt, that it was my shop The Dreamveil where our beautious Royal Sangbonbon has been ordering her attire for the Festival of the Vat...for the last several years!" the proud succubus' horns almost scratched Geralt's chin.

"As for my other clients and sangbonbons no one would wish me harm. My costumes are as much beloved as I am," to prove her point she dusted off her gown busily and made a little spin, showing off her smart travelling cape, embroidered with stars and constellations and her voluminous skirt, studded with tiny bells. It hid her tail and hoofs well and she was careful not to flash them before a witcher. Then she gasped and made a little bow. "Ah, I am terribly sorry! I have not introduced myself, the terror has drained all my manner from me! I am Natanis of Beauclair, the seamstress. You have certainly heard of my modest shop," Natanis said with amiable immodesty. She was hoping the cat-like eyes could see all the details of her painstakingly made travelling costume. A compliment was a compliment, wheither it came for a witcher or not. And ah, the fright made her ravenous. "Thusly, you see. There must be some mistake. The Duchess loves me well, but...there was no reason for her to place a contract for a succubus, even if it's a contract to keep me safe, which is very dear indeed! She would rather send for her seamstress."

"Are you positive you found a right damsel, sangbonbon? I am not complaining. I...oh, my very horns are risking to fall off when I think what those ruffians were after..." the silvery voice faltered and the petite succubus stopped abruptly, like an automaton doll whose cogs lost its power. She shuddered again and covered her horned head with her hood with extra care, not seeking an admiring glance that time.

"They...they took my little dryad's embrace satchel." the only reason why they didn't take her chatelain from her waist was that it got caught in her dress. It was probably a mere matter of time...thinking of it made a sour taste, cold and nauseating raise up Natanis' throat. So loathsome the feeling was that she was ready to dash into the white wolf's arms on her own accord that time. "And I am...I am frightened... to go to the cart and get it. Could you possibly bring it to me, mas...Geralt?"

(under my protection): sender proclaims himself receiver’s protector while receiver is traveling/captive.

@fallesto She longed for adventure. But not this kind of adventure. "Are you going to sell me to Our Belovedness The Duchess, master witcher? Ah, but she puts contracts only on the heads of naughty succubi, that do wicked, wicked things! I assure you, I have not harmed anybody," her gaze involuntary travelled to the bodies, laying around the cart, and Natanis shuddered pitifully. Such was he fright and agitation that she could not even discern if they were dead or alive, her own heart beat terribly loud in her ears. It all reminded her about that terrible night, their last heist. When the witcher - she knew it was a witcher even in the darkness, for his blood sang differently and his eyes were just like a cat's, like in all scary songs - took out his sword, she shut her eyes very tightly and covered her head with her trembling palms. She should have run once he opened the ugly iron cage, that held her a prisoner, but her poor shiny hoofs were so weak she could barely make a step, and with a gasp she fell straight into his arms. In other circumstances it would be very romantic - being saved from the ruffians by a valiant and strong knight, kind of heart and broad of chest - the witcher was not very big, but definitely very strong, having taken on two armed men, and she dared not to try to escape or too dash. The violence and dark memories drained Natanis of all dauntless courage. "I...I was travelling home to Beauclair...from an annual tailors faire...there were no cart...and I don't ride a horse..." if she could not run, maybe she could trick him and still escape? It was a very small, flickering hope, as the little trickster was sincerely crying her heart out against the witcher's chest, her story true and thusly not quite sensible, her golden curls bouncing with every sob. "...and then, then they put me in this hideous cage, took away my satchel with all the rare koviri ribbons and vicovario laces and never seen before nilfgaardian silks in purring-panther... that I traded very merrily and very honestly! and then they told me I was a succubus...and I told them I was not! and then you saved me..."

"Why did you save me, master witcher? You...you told those rude men your name was Geralt. Is it Geralt of Rivia, a famed curse-breaker and..." wonder brought a bit of the petite succubus' strength back, it was enough that she took a mincing little step back from her savior to have a better look at him, eyes wide. "...and a monster-slayer?" Natanis' voice shook as did the pearls in her hair and silver chatleine chains at her waist.

When your succubi-seamstresses ( @toussainttwins ) decide to enrich your love life...and fill a romance chart in your name🤦‍♀️ Orianna doesn't approve.

When an artist gets a bit carried away with the "tiny, totally not detailed art" for a meme.

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🐏🐏 the lambkins are out to case trouble and headaches again.

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Recommend romantic candidates for my muses and see their reaction!

Note: They do not have to be ones my muses would like!

Dear Sangbonbons, The mun is going on a holiday for a few days and leaving you a small art reminiscence, so you would not miss the mischievous lambkins ( and our other muses ) terribly🐏 🐏 😏

❤️All the witcher pin-ups I have done by now ( Orianna, Syanna, and my beloved half-oc succubus twins - Natanis and Nistana)

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Have any of the twins sangbonbons become suspicious that Natanis is not one succubus but two?

NISTANA Oh, there was a certain accident, which I loath to remember. Disdain, confusion and even anger have bloomed poisonously inside of me, the thorns almost piercing my poor little heart. I simply could not remain calm, for the fear I would be choked with those terrible emotions! Verily, it was beyond my powers to stray my tongue when I caught a glimpse of that terrible book... Ah, what if my Tanna saw it too, when she would be walking hand in hand with her paramour, enjoying a balmy evening and his sweet smile, trusting and uncredulous that anyone, anyone could desire to get rid of their succubus - on incubus - beloved! When I spotted it at the window of a shop I almost wept in the arms of my beloved and through my tears I...I might have said...that if anyone would wish to banish my darling lambkin of a sister I would ram the rude creature without mercy! [the cover is under the cut :) ]

Preferably not anon, dear sangbonbons! Yet if you insist, we know a value of a mask at the Dreamveil😉🐏🐏

Go on Anon and tell us something about your life, your crush, school  or  job, anything-  and  my muse  will give you advice.

Dettlaff makes toys for a living... is there any among them that are your favourite?

NISTANA I have many favourites, yet there is a special one. It was a strange gift, for at first it made wrath flicker in my chest, oh, such terrible anger, that tasted of ashes and bile. I was ready to dash the gift upon the threshold, stomp on it and burn it! Then, through the veil of my tears and my dread I understood that dear Gloomyfangs did not mean it as a mockery, or a petty bribe, but as...a cure for my heart. And it worked. For the sorrow I have caged inside of me was chocking my poor little heart slowly, hidden pain turning into poisonous vines of rage. Now I could weep and cry my torment out, cradling the wooden toy in my arms, whispering the laments and accusations as I like. I could have never shared such a sour, dark feast with my lambkin Tanna! But a wooden puppet has no heart, and dark thoughts can not come to rest inside its head. As I walked my wooden knight round the workshop when we were alone - for it was almost 3 feet high and with the smart cords that helped to imitate an illusion of life, through patience and practice - my abysmal, hollow grief gradually gave way to the sweeter memories of old. I shall never cease to miss my beloved, and Gloomyfangs knows well enough that he can not replace a hot, beating human life by giving life to a beautifully crafted toy. As he could not mend the broken body of my lover, he succeeded in saving me from a dark fate, I feel. I shed almost no tears now, and do not wish to get rid of the 'cure' that shared the darkest days and bleakest nights with me. After all, it is a charming likness of my Duduhare.

The puppet described above is based on the Sicilian tradition of puppet theatre "Opera dei Pupi". The cast often features knights, each puppet is 1 meter high, its weight around 8 kg. || source

match made in heaven + the duchess herself!

send ‘match made in heaven’ + a name of a character for my muse’s reaction to yours recommending them a partner || open

NATANIS Oh, that would be a joy! Our Royal Sangbonbon could be a succubus herself! Fiery is her beauty and hunger to love and being loved. However...*sighs* I would not be able to enjoy the affair, even if Her Grace would invite me in with sweet, piquant kisses as numerous as a pack of her cherished beagles. Even if she would crave me in dreams night after night, poor sangbonbon! For I have made the most solemn vow to my lambkin of a sister that I would abstain from stealing the Crown Jewels of Toussaint. And if my weak little heart fell for Anna Henrietta I would definitely, positively not be able to resist taking a souvenir...

Happy Valentine’s Day! Feel free to submit or send Valentines asks to my muse(s)!

The most darling and most joyous St. Valentine's to all the sangbonbons here🐏🐏❤❤

"...under the velvety skin of their arms lie muscles of iron." For the dearest ( and most patient ) @battyccino ❤️ 🐏 🐏

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