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The only thing I managed to draw this week despite sitting in front of the drawing program almost every day... _(:3」∠)_

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This is gorgeous, OP

this is the result of looking at the 'songs of bilitis' by george barbier and kirkbride's foul murder drawing during the same day (listed below)

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Made this for any other institutionalized fans to use. Personally, I use it as a discord emoji. Feel free to snag it and do the same.

Original virtual photography here by @whenthesummersgone

Used this site for the gif

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still my fav

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Hi it’s nerevoryn

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THIS IS THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN

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Continue:

“Forgive my ignorance,” Abdirak said, letting the falls of his scourge run over his hands — the blades just brushing his flesh without cutting. “One cannot just ‘leave’ the Hellriders, correct? It is a life-long oath, is it not?”

Zevlor nodded, still catching his breath, and Abdirak caught all but seven of the falls in his hand, striking the tiefling with the remaining two. He barked, “Yes, Sir!”

“One cannot leave this duty of their own volition,” Abdirak said to himself. Though he did understand, he reiterated it for the paladin’s benefit. “There must be some punishment for abandoning your post, I assume?”

“Death, Sir,” Zevlor replied.

“So, you did not abandon your post.”

The tiefling sat up straighter, pulling at the stripes across his back with a hiss. “I would never, Sir.”

Abdirak ran the full nine falls over the Hellrider’s shoulders and back while he thought — a gentle caress in contrast to the harsh beating. He liked how the man tilted his head just so toward the falls as they brushed softly across his skin — desperate for touch. “You were removed from your post, then, Commander?”

Zevlor nodded and. Abdirak caught his horn, jerking his head back sharply before releasing it. The tiefling gasped and rolled his neck as he returned to his position. “I’m sorry. Yes, Sir.”

“What crime or grievance did you commit to warrant your removal? To be a commander of such a prestigious knightly order must take years of tireless dedication.

“You must have done something truly awful, Zevlor.” Abdirak let his voice drop into a purr, like they were discussing some sordid affair.

“I am a tiefling, Sir.”

Abdirak stepped back and swung at the knight, striking him with all nine of the falls. Zevlor tensed and bent away from the strike, a cry ripping from his throat. “I did not ask what you are, Zevlor. I asked what you did to deserve such demotion and exile.

“Did you abandon your people when your city was drug into the Hells?” He was shouting now.

Zevlor scoffed. “I would never — Sir,” he added before Abdirak could strike.

“You did not hide in the wreckage? Tail tucked and cowering?”

“Absolutely not!” The Hellrider turned, his clawed hands leaving his thighs and clenching into fists. He returned the Loviatan’s glare.

“You must have,” Abdirak caught the falls in his off hand and snapped the leather taut. “You must have abandoned those children and common folk — watched them being carried off and slain by all manner of devils and demons.

“I would banish you for that.”

The tiefling snarled, his sharp fangs clenched and bared. “How dare you even suggest—”

Abdirak swung at him. Not as hard as he had been, but hard enough that the tiefling raised an arm to protect his face from the barbed whip. He snarled back, baring his own — far less impressive — teeth, and growled, “Recall your place, Commander.”

The Hellrider struggled with himself for a moment. His eyes burned with the infernal blood in his veins and the righteous rage in his heart, but he stiffly returned to his position, the tip of his tail flicking.

Abdirak stomped on the spade of his tail with his boot, pinning it down and struck the proud Hellrider twice with the full weight of his Scourge — delighting in his screams and the way his claws dug into the fabric of his breeches.

“You claim you did not abandon your post, Commander,” Abdirak said with another strike. “And you claim that you upheld your oath even in the Hells?” He struck him again.

“I didn’t,” Zevlor cried, his voice finally cracking. “I didn’t abandon my post or my people, Sir.”

“Then why were you exiled, Commander?” Abdirak demanded.

“I told you!” Zevlor shouted, and as he turned his head just a bit Abdirak saw the glint of a tear on the ridges of his cheek. “I am a tiefling.”

Abdirak released his tail and moved forward to run his hand over the man’s shoulders. He clipped the Scourge to his hip and used both hands to massage some tension out of the man — who shook from the effort not to break down. “Were you a man before the Descent? Did you make a deal with some fiend to protect your people and uphold your oath?”

Zevlor shook his head. “No, Sir. My parents were also tieflings.”

“You have yet to convince me that you are not still a knight, then.” Abdirak said quietly.

I looked and didn’t find any of this pair

Abdirak (&/?) Zevlor WIP chapter for WoF

Abdirak considered his options for a moment before he uncoiled the Scourge at his hip. He could find a cane or a switch — he certainly did not want to damage the man before the long road ahead — but as he ran a hand over the Hellrider’s bare shoulder and felt the thick, almost leathery skin, he felt more at ease. The man could take more than the average person.

Zevlor swallowed audibly as Abdirak moved around him, examining him where he knelt on the stone floor, his hands clasped behind him as he had been instructed.

“Contrary to what I believe you were hoping for — this is not a punishment.” Abdirak ran his hand under the tiefling’s jaw and lifted his face to meet his eyes just a moment before he moved around the other shoulder. “You have not done anything to warrant punishment — and certainly not anything for which I am an authority to prescribe punishing.

“When was the last time you cried, Commander?”

Zevlor flinched at the question and his lip curled in a distasteful grimace. “I’m not a commander anymore—”

Abdirak came in front of him and caught his jaw in a rough grasp, lifting his head again and glaring down at him. “I did not ask, Commander. What I asked was when you last cried. When did you last allow yourself to grieve?”

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I looked and didn’t find any of this pair

Abdirak (&/?) Zevlor WIP chapter for WoF

Abdirak considered his options for a moment before he uncoiled the Scourge at his hip. He could find a cane or a switch — he certainly did not want to damage the man before the long road ahead — but as he ran a hand over the Hellrider’s bare shoulder and felt the thick, almost leathery skin, he felt more at ease. The man could take more than the average person.

Zevlor swallowed audibly as Abdirak moved around him, examining him where he knelt on the stone floor, his hands clasped behind him as he had been instructed.

“Contrary to what I believe you were hoping for — this is not a punishment.” Abdirak ran his hand under the tiefling’s jaw and lifted his face to meet his eyes just a moment before he moved around the other shoulder. “You have not done anything to warrant punishment — and certainly not anything for which I am an authority to prescribe punishing.

“When was the last time you cried, Commander?”

Zevlor flinched at the question and his lip curled in a distasteful grimace. “I’m not a commander anymore—”

Abdirak came in front of him and caught his jaw in a rough grasp, lifting his head again and glaring down at him. “I did not ask, Commander. What I asked was when you last cried. When did you last allow yourself to grieve?”

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I’ll give you this cursed thing before going on my trip.

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No digital art for a while. But I inked Raph with his concept clothing. Need him to be nasty. 🙂‍↕️

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All of this

Imagine how good the Elder Scrolls could be if the writers stopped throwing darts at the Daedric Princes whenever they needed a new villain of the week, or at least remembered that the fundmental distinction between the Daedra and their counterparts is that the Daedra chose not to give of themselves to make Mundus and that as much as they are fascinated by mortals they are, being inextricably tied to their nature, fundamentally alien to mortality.

I personally find them more satisfying as being dangerous because they act in accordance with their sphere without reservation rather than just being slightly reskinned Evil Demon Gods.

Like you kiiiiiind of get that with Hircine but explain to me why the servants of the goddess of night and darkness and luck, for example, are universally malicious and cruel and tormented just because? By all means let them be dangerous and scary but the cartoonish evil-for-its-own-sake is so much more boring than the alternative idea of "The royalty of Oblivion is capricious and considers mortals fun to watch or fuck around with or occasionally use as tools/pawns/champions while they're all busy playing 16 way, 5 dimensional chess with each other for some purpose we do not and likely cannot understand."

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I would appreciate if all you Veilguard people would stop making my eyes stray to this new old man I need to sexualise when I already have two

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so um.. hands huh..

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Constantly picturing Emmy having to jump into the water to retrieve Rook after he falls in for the umpteenth time. 💀

Esp since I drag him everywhere.

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Probably going to post a new chapter of HoH tomorrow. Here’s a little preview of things to come xD

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MY WAY

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master manipulator He is