I’m back At least on tumblr I don’t have to worry about them getting banned like on my insta. It’s just a cowple. Yeehaw. I drew Clara in that pink cow bikini in April and you guys liked it, so I decided to add more to it. Muriel This all started out as practice then it turned into something else. I don’t even know. I hope you like it
I finished my first CG in like 2-3 months, and I’m actually pretty happy with it :D Linearting these two very complicated characters was not the most peaceful venture back into it, but eh
Just witness him kneading the dough watching his muscles flex and bulge at the effort. Doesn’t help that he catches you staring— now he’s flushed and sweating a little with it. Oh, if he could paint a prettier picture of himself then you’d probably just melt.
He’s sending you glances every so often just a little shy at the attention, but also relishing it. So happy that he’s able to make you get this flustered just by kneading dough? If it makes you happy he’d do it every day.
And then the icing on top— literally. If you’re making a cake or something with icing or whipped cream, and you get a little on your face. White icing. On your face. He’s not going to say anything. He is not going to say anything because he can’t what’s he going to do, ruin the pretty picture you’ve given him? At some point he probably will end up telling you about it, and if you’re really clever, wipe it off and offer him to take a lick. Ah, did I say clever? Perhaps I should have said suicidal. He’s going to accept. Even if you were joking, he is going to do it. Because he wants to. Oh he wants to. He’ll take your finger(s) into his mouth and suck them clean because of course he will, and he’d end up spending just a little too long sucking and “cleaning” your fingers.
Of course when both of you regain sensibility he’ll probably apologize and you’d wash your hands, but damn. You should probably make it clear you liked it or else he’s going to worry.
Past that, expect to be a lot less spotless and efficient when it comes to baking.
Muriel stans, I have come bearing some justice for your boi.
What started out as a joke I thought of randomly turned into my most popular shitpost on this blog, and ya’ll had some opinions.
Please let me tell you, Muriel fans, that your love for him is beautiful and what began as a snarky post about the Arcana cast = toilets has turned into a tiny movement that has touched the deepest chasm of my heart.
I should clarify that this was meant as “The Cast AS bathrooms” and not “the bathrooms they deserve,” however:
Reparationsmust be made. For the precious mountain boi.
So I bring you, Muriel stans, a very sweet headcanon.
Muriel’s Bathroom HC
It is no mystery that Muriel hasn’t spared the briefest of moments to truly take care of himself. This much was apparent upon your first meeting, and through the months that you have truly known each other, thinking of it has twisted your stomach into countless little knots.
The Devil defeated, Lucio awarded his just desserts, the world upright finally, you’ve both taken some time to catch your collective breath and look forward to, for once, a tangible and wonderful future.
Your next task is to shower him with love and appreciation, polish him up with kisses and care, uplift him with soft words, and smooth him down with careful hands.
When you first started spending time with him, his wildness excited you. He talked to animals as if he understood them, as if they both spoke a secret language evolved from the snap of twigs underfoot and the whispers of breeze through branches. He bathed himself in springs and waterfalls, took his meals under a canopy of stars, woke to the scantest rays of dawn, to the singing of many birds, whose names he knew in the way one knows how to breathe or open their eyes.
Muriel wears nature as one would wear a mantle and while part of you is pained to lessen the magic of their union, you grow acutely aware of the little luxuries that make him hum with a guilty kind of pleasure: a fine cup of artisan’s tea, the softness of your garments against his skin when he holds you, the sweetness of the cakes you bring from the bazaar melting on his tongue, and more importantly, a long and sinful soak in a deep, perfumed bath.
You begin to ask more frequently if he’ll join you on your journeys into the city, perhaps visit the bathhouse. You are chasing the look of pleasure in his eyes, the feeling of tension uncoiling in his arms when you ask these little things of him. You try to be subtle. After several inquiries, he gives you a curious look and you realize that you’re not very good as subtleties.
The Countess asks you to favor her with the completion of an assignment; a task requiring three or more weeks away from Muriel and away from the hut. She will, of course, reward you handsomely and with thoughts of spoiling Muriel with more luxuries at the forefront of your mind, you reluctantly kiss him goodbye as you leave.
He must stay in the forest. The chickens need care, he has many things to do, he assures you that he’ll be plenty busy enough and won’t be overly pained at your absence.
Your task is arduous, though not the most difficult thing you have done. It’s taken longer than expected and it is with much relief that you journey back to the hut, back to home, back to Muriel, whom you missed like you would your own teeth.
Much to your surprise and delight, Muriel is waiting for you at the edge of the forest, torch in hand, bathed in milky twilight.
“I, uh, wanted to show you something.” His large hand envelopes yours in a gentle grasp as he leads you through the forest and towards the hut by torchlight.
You gasp audibly when you see it- he certainly has kept himself busy during your long absence; he’s built an addition to the hut that fills you with delight and your body vibrates with excitement.
He’s hunched behind you and grumbles hesitantly, “I- I know it’s not much, I didn’t have a lot of time, but you know… you were talking about baths and stuff and… don’t wanna go to the city for a damn bath, so-”
You end his consternation with a hungry kiss, your arms thrown about his massive shoulders as far as they can reach, and mutter “It’s perfect,” against his slackened mouth.
“Hang that torch over there,” you say, tugging teasingly at his index finger in the direction of the massive soaking tub, “Let’s take a bath.”
Mea culpa, Muriel mains, may my offering bring you much joy.
I collabed with maffidraws (on insta) and @angelinaavramov to make this little something for our dear friend @wackycherryart . She hasn’t been feeling well lately, due to a lot of things that happened in her personal life. She is the one friend who we can always count on to be there for us, and we are here for her. We decided that we’d surprise her with this gift to show her some love. ❤️ The sketch was made by maffidraws (on insta) , the lineart is by @angelinaavramov and I colored it. Tatiana is @wackycherryart ‘s MC
Of course the romance tale template is from @savenkey
I’m back At least on tumblr I don’t have to worry about them getting banned like on my insta. It’s just a cowple. Yeehaw. I drew Clara in that pink cow bikini in April and you guys liked it, so I decided to add more to it. Muriel This all started out as practice then it turned into something else. I don’t even know. I hope you like it
” The huntsman loved the princess dearly. He couldn’t speak to her, but he always left her lilies with messages tied to them. Letting her know how much she meant to him. “ Happy Birthday Juli I hope you had an amazing day dear! It’s a smol AU I thought of, thought it’d be cute
( I thought I posted this here , but here it is! )
I saw this pic going around on Twitter, and this is all I could think of. I hope you guys like it I think we can all agree that we all want to touch the mountain tiddies.
I’m 84 years late to the update, but I still wanted to finish the sketch I did for it. ✨ I hope you guys like it! I’m so sorry for being inactive lately, life and other stuff kept me busy Ofc templates by the amazing @savenkey
It had taken nearly an entire barrel of ale, but Muriel was finally, hilariously, inebriated. Though several of our friends had offered us a place to stay that night to save us the walk through the woods, Muriel insisted on going home - though this was hardly unusual for him, the suggestive glances he was directing at me, more numerous the drunker he became, made me think that sleeping it off was not what he had planned.
We burst through the door to the hut later that night, greeted by Inanna with little more than a brief, sleepy glance from the furs on the floor, and settled side by side onto our bed.
Muriel’s breath was hot and sweet from the alcohol, brushing against my skin as he leaned his forehead heavily against mine. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but paused for a beat and snapped it shut instead. That was hardly unusual for Muriel, and I quietly waited for him to process what he wanted to say, enjoying the warmth of his skin against mine. Instead, he surprised me by huffing gently into the space between us and then sealing our lips together in a deep kiss. His mouth lingered over mine with a note of hesitation, gentle and searching at first, his lips working mine with a softness that his muscled body should not have been capable of.
My breath stopped in my throat when Muriel drew his lips back over his teeth and softly bit my lower lip. My back arched under his enormous hand as the tip of his tongue plied the soft flesh. The lungful of air I had been holding came out in a quavering moan.
Muriel pulled away, his cheeks deeply flushed. “Is this…” he paused, avoiding my eyes. “Is this ok?”
His body betrayed his true feelings. Every muscle was corded with tension as he leaned into my space, his pupils blown out with desire, and between us, the outline of his stiff member could be seen straining heavily against his pants.
“It’s more than ok, Muriel,” I replied, running the tips of my fingers over his chest, as hard and sculpted as a marble statue but alluring in its heat. “I want you to take me.”
The muscles under my fingers rose and fell quicker at my words. Muriel swept forward to kiss me again, his hands running experimentally up my thigh, his gaze heated as he pulled back to drink in the sight of my form, languid and inviting beneath him.
His voice was low as he pressed his mouth into a sensitive spot below my ear. “I need you,” he grunted, his voice remarkably husky after such little stimulation. He leaned heavily into my space which, paired with the musk of his body, made my thighs spread reflexively. Muriel normally handled me as though I were fragile, fearing the size and strength of his own body. Tonight, however, as he cupped the globe of my ass in each hand and effortlessly plucked me off the mattress and into his lap in one quick motion, I sensed that he was relishing the difference in our size and the power he had over me. His fingers closed around my breasts, kneading the supple flesh as his mouth trailed languidly down my neck. My nipples grew erect beneath his touch, and he brushed his thumbs back and forth across each pert nub. He pushed my bosoms together and kissed the exposed cleavage with mounting hunger. The noise that escaped him as he devoured me with kisses was unrestrained, a groan of desperate lust that hummed in his chest, and I couldn’t help but look down at him with surprise. Muriel’s lovemaking was normally like the roar of a distant waterfall - quiet, but fierce. Tonight was like taking a boat over the edge of that waterfall and crashing through every wave on the way down. The alcohol had clearly given him boldness, which became all the more apparent as my top was tugged down my arms to fully uncover my breasts and Muriel sealed his mouth over my nipple. I squirmed under his touch, gasping when his fingers brushed my knee beneath my skirt and grazed up my thigh with velvety smoothness. His tongue worked my nipple into a stiff, sensitive peak as his fingers found the heat between my legs. His fingertip slid over my hole, coating it in the slick of my arousal. I whimpered as I felt a heavy throb against my leg - touching my wet slit had made Muriel’s cock excited, and his hips rolled toward me eagerly.
He grazed the tip of his finger across the engorged bundle of nerves, making me moan in earnest and clutch at the back of his neck to pull him into a heated kiss.
His head dipped below my view as he spread my legs to make room for himself and settled between my thighs. His mouth was unbearably gentle against my thigh, the heat of his breath so tantalizing against my lips that I curled my toes to keep myself from shoving his tongue against my sex. He kissed my mound, pointedly avoiding the place I wanted him most, and an unbidden whine of frustration crossed my lips.
He relented with an appreciative chuckle, and I felt the heated slide of tongue against skin as he licked me open and caressed my clit. My legs trembled as he lapped eagerly at my cunt, each stroke like an electric current that passed from his body to mine. His tongue slipped between my folds, tasting my entrance and dragging his tongue back across my clit with firm, deliberate strokes, then slid two fingers inside me to caress me from the inside.
I cried out in startled appreciation and bucked underneath him, overwhelmed with pleasure. I expected him to anxiously stop and check on me, as he usually did when I reacted strongly, but shocked me by deepening his strokes and licking me faster. His boldness was enough to bring me to verge of orgasm, a lewd, needy whimper escaping me as my walls began to shudder around his fingers.
“Keep doing that, Muriel,” I pleaded between gasps. “You’re going to make me cum.”
We reached for one another automatically, Muriel’s free hand finding mine and lacing our fingers together.
Pulsing pleasure commanded every sense. It raised my pleading whimpers to a scream of ecstasy, the thrilling torment of his mouth so divine I thrashed against the blankets. I crossed my ankles behind his head, pushing him deeper and sealing his lips over my throbbing organ. He plunged his fingers inside me until my juices were coating his knuckles, his tongue lashing my clit relentlessly as we rode the climax out together, even as my grip on his hand increased to white-knuckled fervor.
As the sensations subsided, Muriel raised his head to look at me, raking the back of his hand across his stubble with eyes sparkling mischievously.
He climbed on top of me on his hands and knees, watching my face with interest as I fumbled with his pants and pushed them down over his hips to free his cock. It sprang from the folds of fabric eagerly, smooth and hard, a thick bead of precum oozing from the head. My mouth watered at the sight of it. My anticipation grew as he positioned himself, his member thick and unwieldy even in his sizable hand.
He tilted his hips and rubbed up against me, sliding his length through my wetness until his cock glistened in the low light. His eyelids fluttered as he groaned, and I found myself suppressing a smile. He was letting down his barriers and letting me see his pleasure, and I hardly dared to point it out in case he shied away.
The head of Muriel’s member was hard as steel against my hole. He leveled his gaze at me, fully flushed with the heat of arousal, and waited for my permission.
I clung to Muriel’s biceps, my fingernails digging half-moons into his skin. He was looming over me, so huge that he blocked the light coming from the embers in the fireplace. He could cover me entirely with his body.
“Come here, big guy,” I lilted, grabbing his hips and sliding his length past my lips.
I felt the low, sweet burn of being stretched by his girth as he pressed into me, pausing so I could adjust to his size. Muriel was massive, especially where it counted, and my head tilted back into the pillow as he slowly put more weight onto his cock and seated his full length inside me to fill me completely. Our eyes met, Muriel’s expression softening as we gazed at one another, affection and longing shown in every feature. He stroked my cheek gently with his thumb.
We waited a few beats for my body to accommodate him, and then he began a gentle rhythm, easing our bodies together until we were moving as one. He grunted with pleasure - my favorite sound in all the world - raw and rugged like he was.
He rutted against me, and then said something I was not prepared for.
“Hold on.”
He grabbed one wrist in each hand, or more accurately, half my forearm, and pinned them above my head, his large hands holding me down against the mattress as his lovemaking gained speed. I sank into the bed with each thrust, the creak of the headboard matching the brutal pace of our bodies. He made my drenched hole take his cock over and over, bouncing me up and down mercilessly. I was little more than a willing vessel for his pleasure, and every nerve inside me sang with satisfaction as his length slid back and forth across them. Muriel’s growls of pleasure as he impaled me with his length only made me wetter.
His body went rigid as he took a shuddering breath, his jaw clenching as his eyes squeezed shut and his brows furrowed. He whispered a single word, his voice low but so thick with passion and desire my loins nearly melted.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes still tightly closed. “Oh, fuck.”
I had a new favorite sound.
Muriel’s cock convulsed and released volleys of hot, white cum inside me, every inch buried in the welcoming swelter of my cunt as his face contorted with bliss, both of us panting with each forceful throb of his member.
He paused to catch his breath, looking down at me as both of us erupted into a peal of joyful laughter.
“Muriel…wow,” I managed, cupping his flushed face.
His blush deepened as he looked away, his expression slightly embarrassed but the smile still playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Do you think,” he replied, “that we could get the name of that ale?”
Lucio’s route: Honey, I’ll help you fix your oopsies and I’m so happy we are together with our 3 beautiful dogs. You have grown so much and I’m proud of you, you stupid beautiful mess
Muriel’s route: LISTEN YOU GOAT BITCH I’M GONNA FUCK YOU UP FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MY BEAR AND ONCE I’M DONE FUCKING YOU UP I’M GONNA TALK TO ASRA SO HE CAN BRING YOU BACK AGAIN JUST SO I CAN KILL YOU A SECOND TIME. DING DING LITTLE SHIT IT’S ROUND TWO.
yALL REMEMBER THAT HUG SCENE AT THE END OF ASRA’S ROUTE??? BEFORE THE LAST FIGHT??? well it tickled all of my OT3 feelings so here you go, featuring Muriel’s masquerade outfit!!!
so the arcana is slowly taking back over, so have a lil hug between my absolute OT3 Asra, Muriel and my apprentice Aedan (they/them)! this started out as a sketch but got out of hand but whatever :’))) i still can’t draw background for shite but shhh
under the cut and because i’m proud, a drawing i did but never published a little over a year ago of those 3, i’m really proud of the progress!
Reblogs are most welcome, and if you wanna support me and help me fund my transition, here’s my Ko-Fi!
