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I died drawing these tattoos, but even more I jerked off to them
(❤ω❤)
@_@
Oooooh, this is the longest commission I've ever drawn, over half a year passed, but I'm very happy with how it turned out. Order from @drartslog (thank you very much for hours and hours of nasty fanons, my sis in kinks, we will burn in one boiler with you). With her character-inquisitor from the Pathfinder's campaign "Wrath of the Righteous".
TW: torture, violence
Auzmezar, Archdruid of the Stone Library Circle, created by Paizo and explored in Pathfinder "Wrath of the Righteous" campaign by @drartslog
Auzmezar was the Archdruid of the Green Library Forest when the boundaries between the planes erupted in 4606 AR and the demonic invasion came to Sarkoris.
Auzmezar and his druids defended their centuries-old forest, where the druidic faith first came to life, for 44 years until the demonic generals called in Shaorhaz, a demon of tremendous power and a devoted follower of Cyth-V'Sug, the demon-lord of parasites, fungus and pollution.
Shaorgaz came down upon the Green Library with steel and fire, leading thousands of flame demons, and set the ancient woods ablaze.
Realizing they are about to lose the war and facing either the need to flee or the need to watch their home fall into ruin, Auzmezar and his fellow druids made their final stand. In a ritual so horrid it cannot be found in tomes of ancient knowledge, the druids sacrificed themselves and released a blast of necrotic energy that tore most of Shaorhaz's forces to pieces and forever turned the forest into stone. Next night the druids rose as undead siabraes — powerful creatures that carry stag horns as a constant reminder of their heresy against the natural circle of life and death.
Auzmezar and his siabraes continue to stalk the forest that now bears the name of the Stone Library — stuck between life and death, lacking all emotion, their memories slowly fading away. But still as vigil and ready to fight demons back as they once were in life.
P.S. Auzmezar's appearance was based on Joseph Mawle playing Benjen Stark as we thought he'd be great in such a role :)
commission for my friend (ﾉ>ω<)ﾉ :｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆
Hey,
If I were to tell y’all about my Minecraft Movie re-write that is nothing like the actual movie, would you guys be interested?
Because……..
Been a while since I posted anything, world on fire and everything.. This one's intended as a gift so only going to show the original sketch!
Fancy robes redesigns 👌
D&D
A Reaver's Fate
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Clang, creak. Clang, creak. Clang, creeeak. Clang!
The sound of the rusted iron door of my cell opening and closing with the howling wind woke me once more. Blearily, I rubbed my eyes open. The glow from the ever-burning torches faintly illuminated the cell that I’ve called home for—Gods, I don’t even know how long at this point. I sat up on the slab of stone that constituted for my bed, rubbing the remaining sleep from my eyes. I swung my legs around to the open side of the ‘bed’, raising my arms behind my head to stretch.
Crack!
The familiar sound of my joints cracking brought a small smile to my face. If there’s anything that I’ve learned in my indefinite stay here, it’s to appreciate the small things. The scratchy pillow that the last guard to watch over my cell had given me from his own bedding; The fresh, albeit cold, air that swirled and howled throughout the halls; The—now filled—paper and empty quill another guard had gifted me after I mentioned how I used to make blueprints of weaponry for His Majesty’s army; Even the uncomfy but fitting clothes I’d been given so I wouldn’t freeze.
A sigh escaped my lips, my cracked goggles fogging up in the chilly air of my cell. Cracking my neck, I got off my bed. Standing up fully, I did my morning stretches. Nightly stretches? Midday stretches? I wasn’t quite sure what time it was anymore. I used to be able to tell what time of day it was by who was guarding my cell. Jenford in the morn, Aylex during midday, and Merrin during the night. Or was it Merrin in the morn, Jenford during midday, and Aylex during the night? I don’t know anymore, it’s been so long since I’ve seen any of them—or anyone for that matter.
I shook my head, clearing those confusing thoughts from my mind. After completing my stretches, I walked through my cell, inspecting everything. It was a ritual at this point. Go to the door and inspect the rust covering it. More seems to have covered the sliding mechanism where the guards used to slide my food through. I tried moving it slightly with my fingers, but it refused to budge.
“Must be rusted shut.” I mused to no one in particular.
After studying the door, I headed over to the wall with what I think is my most recent marking of the number of days I’ve been here. I grabbed the small pebble and added another vertical slash onto the wall, marking the new day.
Next, I head back to my ‘bed’ and fix my pillow, fluffing up so it’s slightly more comfortable during the night. The pillow was the only thing that separated me from the stone while sleeping. The scent of Reeves’ cologne had long since faded with time, though the memory of his kindness still clung to me like a child would to their blanky.
“I, uh.” Reeves cleared his throat, trying to hide something from me behind his back. “I noticed that you, uh. You tend ta have bruises an’ cuts on your face afta’ sleepin’. So I, uh.” He looked away in embarrassment, his cheeks flushing red as the blood rushed to his face and screwing his eyes shut. He looked slightly like a tomato from the market stalls in King’s Square.
“Takemypillow,it’lldoyousomegood.” He slurred while shoving a well-worn travel pillow towards me. I blinked for a few awkward seconds, unmoving as I stared at the pillow. He nervously opened one eye, both of us glued to our positions, unsure what to do.
“Do—do you not want it?” He asked, his lip quivering like a wet dog in the cold.
His question brought me out of my stupor. I blinked a few more times before responding. “I—I don't know what to say. Thank you, Reeves.” My voice was barely above a whisper and yet it felt like the loudest sound I had ever heard, louder than the bang and explosions of artillery in the cacophony of battle.
I shook my head, chasing those far off memories away before I broke down again.
“There’s no use in dwelling on the past, it just makes us weak and liable to ignore the future.” My old Master used to say.
Master… Gods, I haven’t thought about him in years. Decades? I truly can’t tell how long I have been here for anymore. Still, I miss that sly old man and his strangely useful wisdom. I miss the way he used to braid my hair when it got too long and how he used to sneak confidential scrolls that were far too out of my league into my room to study.
I chuckled sadly, sniffling as I felt tears prickle at the corner of my eyes. Ah, shit. I’m already breaking down again. I wiped my tears away with my sleeve, only to feel more coming. The tears rolled down my face as my chest heaved for a comforting presence that I knew I would never feel again for as long as I lived. For what felt like days I stood there, hovering over my ‘bed’, sobbing silently and longing for the warmth of the man who raised me.
When I had finally come to my senses, my body ached. There was also a dull throb in my head that was particularly vexing. Wanting to retain some sense of normalcy, I dragged my uncooperative feet to the pile of paper covered in various diagrams I would draw in my youth. I attempted to sit down, only for my body to collapse in exhaustion.
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“This place gives me the creeps.”
“Oh, quit being such a wimp, Gunar.”
“I am not a wimp! You just clearly lack any self-preservation! If you hadn’t taken this stupid job, we could’ve been in Varmoss drinking right now!”
Davi scowled at the Lizard-folk, she’d had enough of his whining and moaning about their current job. “Shut up, Gunar! I don't ‘lack self-preservation’, you’re just a coward with a drinking problem. Besides, it’s just a clear-cut exploration mission. ‘Explore the ruins beyond the borders of the ancient kingdom of Hemonar. Find out what’s there and if there’s anything of value for Her Majesty’s Archives.’ It’s a simple job.”
Gunar scoffed, “Yeah, and what are we going to do if we found any Reavers?”
Davi gave him a scathing glare. “I highly doubt that we’d run into any Reavers.” She barely managed to suppress the urge to shudder at the mention of those foul creatures.
You could never trust a Reaver, no matter how harmless they try to convince you that they are. They brought about only pain and destruction. She had to learn that lesson the hard way.
As the two continued exploring the ruins, they came across a hallway that led to a thick, rusted iron door that seemed to open ever so slightly and then slam shut in a consistent rhythm. The door had an openable slot that was likely used to feed whatever prisoner was stuck in there, but it appeared to be rusted shut.
The two shared a look. Gunar shook his head, trembling slightly. Davi rolled her eyes and gestured to his Scimitar. He gulped nervously while unsheathing the weapon. Davi grabbed the handle of the door, which was curiously unlocked, and turned it to the right. The door shuddered and groaned as it opened, having clearly not been opened for centuries.
⊰─────────────────────────────────⊱
Clank! Clank, click, clank!
Footsteps? Who in the Reagent’s name is here? The sound of armoured footsteps grew louder, loud enough for me to discern that there were two sets of footsteps coming towards my cell. I sat still, praying that they’d turn around and come back another time, preferably when I wasn’t stuck reliving the bittersweet memories of my imprisonment at the hand of Ser Nightcolt’s forces.
I waited with baited breath, staring at the door to my cell. For a few tense moments, the door remained closed. Despite the now silent halls, I could still feel my heart hammering in my chest. The sound of it was so deafening that I almost felt like I was back in The Forges. With the sweet sound of hammers hitting steel and fires roaring as I shoveled more coal into the furnaces.
NO! Now’s not the time to be longing for the familiar ash and soot scented halls I owned. Get your head in the game, Duskroar! There are people outside your cell! They could be bandits that will force you to create all manner of terrible things for them!
I shook my head, trying to clear my mind and refocus on the present.
“Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on the now. Leave your thoughts be, let them come and go, like a leaf in the wind. Breathe in, breathe out.” I could hear Master Drust’s voice walking me through the familiar breathing exercise from my childhood, almost as if his spirit was still here guiding me, even in death.
Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.
Don’t dwell on your intrusive thoughts, let them be and focus on your senses.
Five objects near me: The diagrams, my quill, the empty jar of ink, the clothes on my back, and my pillow.
Four sounds I can hear: The howling wind, my chest heaving as I try to slow my breaths, the silence of my door..
Shit! My cell door is never quiet! I could feel my heartrate picking up tremendously, its drumming drowning out the sound of the cell door opening.
As the door opened, I saw two figures rush inside. Both had their weapons drawn. One was a stout Dwarf that was carrying a battle axe of some sort, one clearly far less advanced than what my wife used to make in The Forges. The other was a trembling Lizard-kin holding a not very well taken care of Scimitar out towards me. His—her?—grip was shaky, as if they were going to drop it and flee at any moment.
The dwarf’s face went pale, as if they’d seen a Ghoul. Their eyes were wide with fear, but they held their axe steady. “Cò thu? Dè tha thu a 'dèanamh an seo?” They shouted in, what was, a language similar to Dwarvish but clearly more than just a newer dialect.
“Is mise Duskroar, cé tusa?” Gods, I really need to brush up on my Dwarvish.
The two looked at me in surprise, not expecting me to speak Dwarvish. The Dwarf narrowed their eyes at me. Their eyes were a piercing green, one that made it seem like they were looking into my soul, judging my very existence. They turned to the Lizard-kin, careful to keep me in their sights before speaking in a tongue I couldn’t recognise. The two conversed for a bit before the Dwarf turned back to me.
“Hva vet du om dette stedet? Ah, shit. That’s not Common….” The Lizard-kin muttered. They cleared their throat before speaking again, “Ak-hem. What are you doing here? What can you tell us about this place?”
Common? Huh, it’s not quite how I remember it but I can work with it.
“This is—or was—a fortress that Ser Nightcolt’s forces used to keep high profile prisoners.” The two seemed quite shocked, sharing a look of surprise.
“So you are, er, were a prisoner here?”
“Indeed. I got captured during the Battle of Mistband and transported here. I do hope my wife is okay, it’s been…” I started counting on my fingers, “One, two, three, four, eight, eleven… I don’t know how many years since I’ve seen her.”
“Why did Ser Nightcolt’s forces capture you?”
“I am an Artificer. I work for King Vollert of Hemonar. I studied under Grand Wizard Drust of His Majesty’s Court.”
The two shared another look, this one bordering on a mixture of pity and skepticism.
“Should we…?”
“Should you what?” I asked, perplexed. What are they trying to hide from me?
“Go on. Tell them, Gunar.” The Dwarf made a gesture for the Lizard-kin—Gunar, I presume—to continue.
“Are you sure, Davi? Are you sure that this is a good idea?”
The Dwarf, Davi, glared at Gunar. “Just do it, I’ll buy you a drink later.”
Gunar gave them a sharp-toothed grin before turning their focus back on me. “I’m not sure how exactly to tell you this, but… King Vollert of Hemonar has been dead for about half a millennia. His kingdom fell about five hundred and fifteen years ago.”
“And what of Ser Nightcolt’s forces?” This can’t be right. Has it really been over 500 years since I got sent here? They're joking, right?
“The Nightbourne Empire fell roughly two hundred years after the Kingdom of Hemonar.”
“So it’s true… If they’re all dead… Why am I still alive? Why did I live and they die? Why must the Gods be so cruel?” I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and my hands clamming up. My breaths became raggard, my lungs struggling to take in any air. It felt as though my throat was being crushed by my Uncle’s hands, like when I was a child.
⊰─────────────────────────────────⊱
Translations:
Cò thu? Dè tha thu a 'dèanamh an seo?: Who are you? What are you doing here? in Scottish Gaelic
Is mise Duskroar, cé tusa?: I’m Duskroar, who are you? in Irish
Hva vet du om dette stedet?: What do you know about this place? in Norwegian
(All Translations are from Word Hippo)
You have been imprisoned for so long that you have completely lost track of time. You are not even sure whether those who imprisoned you are still alive. When finally someone came to check on you they were surprised to find you, claiming that the dungeon has been unused for centuries.
Drew my guy Rodwig the other day! He's best friends with my characters Lui and Karly. They all love to sing, and Rod is no exception
• Commissions | Links •
holding you close, as fragile as a snowflake
Week 3 - Momiji
Been busy with fixing computer issues, did this quick Ichi piece to warm up on drawing again.
Mermay 3 - Rockabilly
I decided to take a few days break because of Doujima. Had fun doing this, and searching pin-up style pictures!
Day 2 - Angel Fish + Rascal Today, I find out what Seapunk style is like, and it’s amazing!
Just realised I forgot to post my Mermay stuff here. Featuring a previous character all spruced up!
Day #1 - Koi Fish + Extravagant
hollow knight brainrot is so strong, so i made a oc. Atlas the moth, idk her roles lmao probably a healer and seamstress
this took disgustingly long to finish. whatever
Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Original Work Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Original Characters, Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Monster Character(s) Additional Tags: Fantasy, Elemental Magic, Alchemy, Human Experimentation, Dark Magic, elemental kingdoms, Cross-Posted on Toyhou.se, Knights - Freeform, Witches, Wizards, rated t just to be safe, Xenophobia in Later Chapters, Pirates, Ninjas - Freeform, Ngl I added a lot of concepts in this story, Little in the Romance Department, Found Family, Redemption, Angst and Drama, Humor, Tragedy in later chapters, inspired by avatar the last airbender, As well as a bunch of other things, I just realized that now, A bunch of trauma and drama in later chapters, Even though I don't own a violin, Eldritch curses and stuff, Celestials and Gods, Halloween Motifs later on, Fae & Fairies, An Attempt at incorporating music in a text-based story Summary:
In a realm tore by mistrust between the 8 kingdoms, it is now thrown into war by The Pale Queen. It’s up dishonored knight Sir Stradivarius, who has been assigned by the Goddess of Hope to find the Chosen One, who will put a stop an eldritch curse. However Sir Stradivarius might play a bigger role in this than he thought…
Can you imagine a predictor, but they see future like with myopia? I mean, they can see only something huge and far away from present. And people always asking them questions about their problems and their solutions, but this guy can only tell, how exactly and when world will end.
Fan art of a friend's Tales Of Arcadia oc Idaila if she turned evil after the events of ROTT
New DnD Character :))
((She’s a wizard Half-Elf))
𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ★ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖/𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃. 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐃.
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Shigaraki is a switch that leans towards submissive due to his daddy issues and mommy loneliness/desperation. He usually clings to his lover in private and acts like the dominant one in public, acting unbothered but sometimes throws a fit in public like a child (ex. when he doesn't get something he wants), and you usually punish him for it. But he likes it.
Of course, Shigaraki is kinky, he has the weirdest but most predictable fetishes and kinks that well-fit him. Some being bondage (doesn't matter who's being bonded), hand fetish, choking (which goes along with the hand fetish) and most degrading techniques— like humiliation, name calling and glory hole. He also enjoys pain. A LOT. Which, it gets a little dangerous, he or you use techniques like biting (which you also use out of sex for teasing), spanking, and, cock/pussy slapping. He does do non-consensual sex, but it's not his kink, it's just when he's drunk and is hyper-aroused so he begs to fuck you/you to fuck him. Sometimes he likes somnophilia, but he tries holding back to respect your boundaries. — Using toys is a huge turn-on for him, he likes pegging, and, vibrators (on you and him), he doesn't use that many toys, just the basics.
Yes, Tomura enjoys quirk play, like in the given examples, he'd decay your clothes off and then...well, get started on you.
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Tomura is a (huge) 6.5 in/16.51 cm flaccid dick, and when erect, it can range between 7.5 in/19.05cm to 8.0 in/20.32 cm at most.
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He is very snuggly afterwards, rather if it's him dicking you down so good you won't be able to walk for weeks or you riding his hard dick so good he's lost his senses, he's take a bath with you, worship you, you worship him, you guys do selfcare and then snuggle. That's how it always ends.
Tomura doesn't believe in "rounds," he/you goes until you're both satisfied and exhausted, unless, of course, one of you have to stop bc of a medical or mental emergency (ex. bleeding, crying, panic attack, uti, etc.).
He's very bratty, take that in, sexual or not. He will throw tantrums when he doesn't get his way (rather that's with you, with others or in battle), they can be tiny, him biting, whining, pouting and stomping his foot, but they can also be huge (and destructive), him screaming, knocking things over, hitting/dusting anything in sight (he tries to not hit you) and getting on the ground and letting out his aggravation until he gets too tired and then just cries for comfort— which is how all his tantrums end, him crying and grabbing at you, desperate for comfort and forgiveness for his outburst.
Tomura's favorite body part of his lover would most likely be their breasts/pecks and their waist, rather they had no/tiny chest, a huge one or the size of Wendy William's, he'd love them, kiss them, bite them, snuggle them, hell, he'd motorboat them too. Rather his lover had "rolls," a skinny waist or think they had no waist because of their weight, he'd still hold them by it as they kissed. He wouldn't care about your body weight, but when he gets on his game, he's gonna insult everyone because of their looks, accent, body weight, etc.
Speaking of your body and appearance, he'd literally pop a boner as soon as you walked in the room, rather if you were dressed in the most revealing thing ever, your casual outfit, or your literal pajamas— boner alert. 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎; He'd probably be playing on [insert device] and you'd walk in the room, he'd be too engaged in his game to notice you until he recognized your scent, he'd look up/back at you and try to cover his grin with a poker face and then get hard, then his smile would fade a bit and he'd cover it with a pillow, blanket, or his device.
♡︎ He wouldn't care for holidays like Valentine's day, Thanksgiving or Christmas...until he met you; Valentine's day, he'd likely do one or two of three things, fuck you, be all inlove and smitten or gift you with candies. Thanksgiving, he wouldn't really say anything, he'd just enjoy the food but he'd think about how happy he is to have you, and Christmas, an abundance of money would be stolen and spent to keep the love of his life happy. ♡︎
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That's all, people! Sorry this was kind of short, I hope you all enjoyed this first post. ★ 𝐍𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃! 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐓! 𝐌𝐘 𝐐/𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃, 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆!