it's a good night tonight.
it's a good night tonight.
Your Worship, Lord Inquisitor Elaar Lavellan
I have this idea that maybe one day I'll expand on a fic:
After finding out Ameridan's fate, Elaar is positively distressed, his worse fear made a reality. He was already concerned about how he still run into people that didn't know the Inquisitor was an elf, let alone an elven mage. He doesn't like being elevated as a Chantry figure, but sure he hates even more that they choose to hide who he is.
So, Vivenne takes to herself to ensure that the Inquisitor feels a little better by commissioning pretty much every reputable painter available to make portraits of the Inquisitor that highlight both his heritage and status. After all, everybody -and the nobility in particular- owes the Inquisitor their lives, and several are more than happy to add a illustrious rendition of the handsome elf to their galleries to get the favour of both the Inquisition and the Divine herself. Having a portrait of the Inquisitor becomes a sign of direct support to Divine Victoria (Leliana).
Elaar finds the attention very awkward, but appreciates the effort. Of course after a lot of convincing, they get Cassandra into a fancy armour to get one portrait of them together. Somehow a lower quality copy of the painting ends up as a cover for a terrible (fantastical) romance novel.
I tried to mix the Inquisition symbols with the Dalish ones, and also a little ring with the Nevarran heraldry as a call to Cassandra. I had so much fun with him!! Plus, who doesn't love that damn crown?
I have 3 more paintings royal style with my DA characters lol 2 with the Warden and 1 with Hawke. Plus I have that ice-texture-nightmare of Elaar to finish. Yes, lately I only get energy to paint if its DA related.
YAKUZA 7 SPOILERS / RGG7 SPOILERS / RYU GA GOTOKU 7 SPOILERS
They give me feelies and thoughts
Dia 17: Collide / Chocar
Dos bros dragones chocando sus pectorales para demostrar lo fuertes que son
El otro dragón le pertenece a un amigo
biblically accurate spiral
I have yet to play a proper Paladin but what resonates with me about them is they're almost inherently a class about passion and strong feelings. No matter what Oath you choose, this is something your character wholeheartedly believes in and is willing to devote their lives to. Whether it be devotion to good itself, the beauty of the natural world, or even a solemn commitment to vengeance, your character is defined by caring about something so profoundly it translates to divine power
In his 40s Seto takes up painting as a relaxing hobby.
Happy 41st, may you stay extra as fuck forever.
𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 "𝐼 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑌𝑜𝑢".
Summary: A series of short one-shots inspired by this prompt, 1-35. I am not going to write all the prompts and I will not be writing them in order, but based off inspiration. To fuel my “horny on main” I may focus mainly on writing for Goku but there may be a few with other characters. Not all fics will be suitable for all ages. Minors should not interact with prompts rated mature/18+.
16. Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble
Pairing: Goku x Black/POC Fem!Reader Rating: Mature/18+ Warning: ( explicit language )
It's always easy to say it started with a kiss. You know exactly how it started, it's with one of those innocent, sweet things he says that leads him to be more direct with his kindness to you. Which leads to those affectionate touches of his hands on your shoulders, catching the warmth of your skin under your sleeves. Then there is your smile that he cannot resist and a subtle call in your eyes that inevitably finds you that tender kiss. It brings you to your bedroom, carried effortlessly in those trained arms of his and your clothing shed piece by piece in a matter of minutes. His true weakness lain vulnerable before him and his excited hands positioning your bodies to embrace. It's all pleasure and instinct now. He has to remind you every time how much he adores your body, he never fails to. It's no different then him complimenting a meal you cooked over a hundred times as if it were the first or sharing his gratitude to have you help him tend to his new training bruises. He is an honest man and Goku was never one to be quiet about his passions.
Fighting, food, friends...you. Fucking you in a constant struggle to thoroughly express his true affections, but to be delicate about it. He has to hold back just enough for you. He can't hurt this body he loves so much. So when he catches his control slip he embellishes you with words to remind you he is reeling himself in, he's sorry if it hurt you instead of pleasing you, and he kisses your lewd mouth annoyed at him for stopping or slowing down to constantly check on you. That giddy smile peppering your mouth to coax your pout away. Goku could read your mind when you're close like this and understand what you wanted him to do, how fast or deep, slow or hard, but he could not balance that all at once. Not when his own mind couldn't focus on anything but yielding to his own pleasure.
What got him the most was that sweet butter smell of your body creams that rose from your skin when you really heated up. He couldn't imagine how hard it would be to try to focus reading your mind with that delicious scent in his face. The Saiyan could almost gobble you on pure instinct alone when it engulfed his nose and drained his brain clean of anything but you. It wasn't just on your skin but in your hair, making it all the more harder to restrain himself hunched over on top of you. Hips knocking yours in such a way your lower body lifted from the bed with each thrust, your body bouncing off of him. Only until that broken cry of his name from you in a mix of pleasure and pain slowed him again. Your hands grasped his face to ground him, throbbing cock withdrawn from your warmth. At least this time he actually needed to. "E-Easy, easy.." You pant as he leans his forehead against yours. Goku lowers his body on top of yours, those wide, dark orbs pleading for your forgiveness as his mouth finds yours again. "Sorry, (y/n). I'm really sorry." He begs against your lips, arms holding you up against his body. "You're wearing that stuff on your body again, it smells so good. I couldn't help myself."
"I always wear this." Your voice is muffled before he lifts away.
"I know, it drives me crazy!" The saiyan admits with a meek smile. You let out a snort followed by a sinister giggle at his suffering. Not many could say they hold that power over the Earth's mightiest defender.
"Poor baby. Here," You push yourself free of him and draw your legs from his hips to turn and lie on your stomach. You press your plump ass cheeks back into him with a teasing wiggle, looking over your shoulder at him. "If you're gonna fuck me like that, then at least do it this way." There's a small pout in his face, it's not his favorite position because so much of you feels hidden to him when you're not facing him but he’s not going to complain about it. He still gets to have you, hold you, fill you up with his fiery love for you. You reach back between your legs and find the head of his cock, further pressing your hips back to let your pussy swallow him back inside. It's a languid pick up as he leans back over you, turning your head slightly with his hand to kiss at your face and it's sun blessed glow until he found your gasping mouth. Stealing your breath with a heftier kiss that lead to your tongues tangling inside his mouth.
He pushes further up against your backside now making your inner walls clench around him in delight. You break away from the kiss to brace yourself on your arms and arch your back just enough to bob your hips on his cock at a faster pace, back to where you left off. You are smirking at the shudder of his voice behind you basking in the sensation. He answers in kind, driving his hips to meet yours. Your shaking curls become his focal point as he finds his center of control again. It may be too much for him now, the way his slick member pulsed inside you. His crown started to leak, one sticky bead at a time coating across your walls weeping to release.
And he thought he was dangerous to you. This position was the real threat. His hands were so antsy the way they grabbed your hips, not to steady you as his mind told them but to draw your back more into him with each collide of your body. His control is slipping because he's so close. It didn’t matter what he willed his body to do, it was yours that held control over him now. You don't shy away from him pulling and pushing your movements, you embrace his new roughness. His large cock hit so much better this way with your ass acting as a buffer between you, you couldn't be more grateful to be filled so right. "Yes, yes that's it Goku!" You whined at the electrifying ache of your body trying to suck him the closer your orgasm came.
He presses his nose into your nape, face tickled by your hair. It felt like he was taken somewhere high and free at your adorned scents. "I love how your body feels so much." Goku professed, giving way to his rough instincts when the last of his restrain was hanging by a thread. His wild mane and your hair of coils somewhat entwines when he pushes his face into your shoulder leaning into you. Goku's teeth scrapes your skin as he continue to throw his hips into you, the smack of your bodies cushioned by your backside and keeping him from hitting too deep, too hard. It was exactly what you both needed. He wraps his arms around you upper body, somewhat trapping your arms against your own body and pressing your face down into the pillows. His hidden strength started to show itself as you couldn't even wiggle your arms in that hold. It turned you on so much to witness this lovable star child become a beast to his lust for you. Your knees felt like they were going to break through into the mattress springs the way he bore down on you. That’s the only pain you wanted to endure if it meant being fucked this good.
"I love it, I love you." He continues, voice growing louder at the peak of his orgasm pushing you into your owns. "I love you, I love you, I love you!" The saiyan repeats those words until you can only make out the cadence of his broken voice in the haze of coming around his cock while completely filling your trembling form.
To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand dragons
The Faithful of Nyrasis is a death cult of necromancers dedicated to the teachings of Nyrasis the Writhing. Found in cities throughout the Holy Vantari Empire they are generally not considered a terrible threat. Most members are just madmen or transients in search of a hot meal. The senior most members of the cult are known for a uniquely powerful ability though grotesque in nature.
The cult’s senior necromancers have the power of consumptive perception and communication. This means in short that upon eating the flesh of the dead they can learn their secrets, knowledge and even communicate with the departed soul. For those bodies that have become bones the necromancers boil them into a soup to pry into their past. This unique ability is sought out by a disturbingly wide variety of people seeking to make secrets brought to the grave no longer.
going mad dressing up my silly little dragons
Borrowed Writing Prompt Meme Day 25 : Bone Verse: Tra la la la la || Main Verse Featured: @brooklynislandgirl | @tarnishedhalo | @damhsagreine | @macdiari
Rage is one hell of an anesthetic.
A phrase to yet be coined--yet how well it fits the monstrous thing that walks step by step through hollowed halls. Blood that drips from claw and tooth. Squelches beneath leather bound feet. The stench of it as thick in the air as it is upon the ground. Upon flesh that it both was and was not let from. Soot that will stain the sky for days yet to come. And the silence broken only by the crackling of burning wood and clothe. The crumbling collapse of stone. The screaming spent, existing now as echoes that only ancient ruins will remember.
A breath. Pulled into the extent lungs can abide. Mismatched eyes that close in respect of the satisfactory. The tilt of a head. The passing of bloodied fingers over stone and canvas. Claws that come after, leaves gouges and rend colors. Nothing left untouched. It all must come to ruin. Every life. Every brick. Every painting. Every piece that had contributed to the lie. The lie that this place was anything more than a finely shaped prison. A lair of snakes. Because a home should reflect the master of it after all. Because home is a man’s castle is it not? Or so another phrase shall be coined many years hence from now. He would have found amusement in that in the moment.
Into the open air of the evening he has moved. The bodies of the dead scattered upon the stairs. Amid the courtyard beyond. Littering the highwalls of the castle. The ones that hadn’t been quick enough littering the road beyond the gates, because for all his rage he had been wise. Herded and funneled them like cattle to an ultimate dead end corral. No one had survived, innocent or guilty--all were slaughtered. The bones left as a carrion feast for the birds and kinfolk that will be drawn by the quiet and the blood. Fitting if one knew the truth. But he does not and onward he moves through the death he has made in his anger. Two trophies tied to his belt that sway with his movement.
Trophies fit for a queen goddess. Jealous and unmerciful as she is. These will be held high and proudly. Brandished before her with a confident arrogance the likes have not be seen since the brightest of all the gods stepped forward and took what was due him. And in a way perhaps that is what he is doing. He has taken life for life in threes over threes. Stripped a goddess of her most loyal mortals in response to her greed. To her unwillingness to help her most faithful. And for every step he takes through the castle gates, the city, the forest beyond--the sound of bone striking bone chases.
Skull against skull.
Father and son.
And a queen will know their his vengeance.
In this life, or the many yet to come.
did anyone else think the front man’s mask was very 2009 g dragon heartbreaker appropriate
((asfgd heaaaavy WIP for Moon’s Dragon God AU! Will post the proper one and make a full bio for her when it’s not midnight and i actually finish it. that being said, this verse has been added to her verse list, if you’d like a basic summary!))
them again :]
RQ3 — From the Shadows picks up the Grand Conjunction metaplot in 1992, almost a full year after RQ1, which is good because it is gaged for levels 9-12, a big leap up. It is the length of both RA3 and RQ1 put together and, honestly, is the point where, for better or worse, the metaplot really kicks in. Azalin the Lich, the coolest character in the Ravenloft campaign setting, is revealed as the prime mover of the plot — he is hoping to exploit the Grand Conjunction to escape the Demi-Plane of Dread.
This one is interesting. It starts with a string of event-based encounters, the first of which was bound to be a controversial one: the headless horseman runs the players down and chops off all their heads. Azalin then revives them and sends their spirits back in time to the wedding of Strahd’s brother (not a great day for the von Zarovich family). The lich wants them to steal an artifact necessary for the Grand Conjunction and if they fail, he sends them back over and over again, Groundhog’s Day-like. That’s only the start! Once they get back, they have to navigate Azalin’s (very large) castle, during which they are manipulated into taking the lich’s dragonskull phylactery with them to destroy in a shrine beyond his realm. Once they escape, they confront the lich and destroy him, which sticks him in the phylactery, which the players then carry out of his domain, which starts the Grand Conjunction going. Boom.
It’s a lot and it is kind of dumb. But Azalin is cool and his castle is fun to explore. Sad that there is no Fabian art here, tho.
art tag // commission info
Finally, I drew Erril’s memoir! (Liadon’s Memoir(e) of Modern Medicine) (and used my custom font for the cover)
Wondrous Item, Very Rare (One of forty five volumes) Requires Attunement This item gives the user advantage to history and medicine checks. You also get an additional 1d4 to constitution and death saves. Having attuned to all forty five volumes of the memoir at least once gives the user access to one of the following: one cast of true resurrection, one cast of holy aura or Corona of Light with 1d6 expenses. Clerics and paladins of other faiths will experience constant visions of spiders and eyes if attuned to this item. End text id]
Additional information: A wondrous collection of forty-five tomes, written by an acolyte of the Watcher. The tomes are found in libraries and temples around the continent, detailing firsthand recounts of medical encounters and findings. Embedded within the notes are the acolytes’ divine shorthand, and taking the time to study through them all gives any willing user blessings drawn from the Watcher herself. Reading and attuning to all forty-five volumes at least one time will grant users spells and light cleric feats regardless of class. Divine characters of faiths other than the Watcher will be plagued with visions of spiders and eyes, though they are not harmful. Each tome is bound in highland leather and is embossed with magical gold foil that cannot be removed.