swordbisexual

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Paloma Ford

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evening cape, france c. 1935

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Ok but like fr if things go pear shaped my bluesky is akaouiser and moots can DM me for discord

Is this it is this when tumblr goes dark forever, not with a bang but with a whimper

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you guys lol we have gotta start commenting on fics again. Like literally every 1 in 300 hit/kudos is a comment. that’s crazy lol for christ sake . 300 people in a room with me listening to my story and only one person says hi that was ok not bad. Is anyone here can anyone hear me

[swordbisexual]

I know absolutely nothing about Rogue Trader but I love Enid's vibe and her hair enchants me. So - first time Heinrix sees her let down her hair OR first time he gets to take it down himself?

Eeeeeee yes, Enid's hair is something I love, both to draw and to write, especially where Heinrix is concerned. What can I say, after getting the dialogue where he says his favorite color is red, I knew I had to make it that his favorite color is Enid's Hair.

The first time he sees her hair down is in chapter one of Tread Softly, so here's a little something (mostly soft but a little spicy) about the first time he gets to take it down himself:

--

He'd wanted to do this properly. He'd wanted to allow Enid to invite him to her quarters, to take his time with her, to do all that Commorragh hadn't allowed them in their desperation. It is the least she deserves, Heinrix thinks, and the very least he could do.

Enid, however, had other plans.

The both of them lie half-clothed on her bed, a trail along the floor of coats and boots and trousers that lie where they'd been left in their fervor. She'd been on him the instant they were alone, and for all his practice at restraint, he's only a man, burdened by base desires; he couldn't help but respond to her touch, to pull her over him and let her take all he could give, til they were both spent and sated.

There are still pins in her hair, holding the braid in place that loops around the knot at her crown, and when she nestles into him, one of them jabs him in the jaw. "By the Throne," Heinrix mumbles, rubbing at the spot. "We should have taken care of those first."

Enid sits up with a laugh. "I'm not sorry."

"Neither am I." He watches her reach for the first pin and sits to meet her, resting his hand on her wrist. "May I?"

Her cheeks color, but her voice is light as she folds her hands in her lap. "All right."

He removes the first pin that juts out from the knot, or tries to; something at the bottom snags, and he has to gently wriggle it out to keep from pulling her hair. “A multi-key?”

She smirks. “Keep going.”

The next pin is purely decorative, but the third has switch on the side and a curious pointed end; on further inspection, he deduces that it’s a miniature soldering iron. “What in…” He turns it over in his hands. “Is the next one a grenade pin?”

“Oh, now that’s an idea.” Enid beams brightly. “I’m too attached to my own head to try it, though.”

“So am I.” Heinrix slides the last pin out - thankfully, just another jeweled bauble - and runs his thumb along the edge of the braid til he finds its end. Carefully, he unwinds the braid from the knot, loosening the strands of the plait as he goes, combing his fingers through the rippling waves of copper that fall through his hands like ore in a forge-fire. The topknot comes loose, and he brushes her hair back towards himself, every handful of it thick and warm and impossibly soft.

She looks over her shoulder at him, her face now framed in crimson, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Lying back on the bed, she slides open the buttons of her shirt as her hair fans out over the pillow. “Should we go again?”

He kneels over her, stroking a curl back from her temple and cupping her cheek, his cock already stirring to life again at the sight of her spread out and open and wanting. “Please.”

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Guys I’m just over here thinking horny thoughts about Enid and Heinrix, is this my life now.

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Is this it is this when tumblr goes dark forever, not with a bang but with a whimper

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"I fear that if I were to let you go, you might want to disappear again" - or im still brainrotting about Cassia's scene on act 3

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Tread Softly: Chapter Three

He should be horrified. He should want nothing to do with her. He should cut this treason at the root, burn away his own desire and leave behind a scorched, blackened crater where nothing more can grow. There are a thousand things he should do, and instead, he succumbs to one, a whisper that beckons his heart and draws him down to a point of no return. Heinrix dips his chin just enough to press his lips to Enid’s temple. “I’m sorry,” he whispers against her skin, resisting the urge to lick his lips and see if the ghost of her taste might linger there. She turns to look up at him sidelong from beneath her lashes. “You don’t have to be.”

In which there is a hunt, and some mishaps on horseback, and a confession of past sins. 5.8k words

[swordbisexual]

Art nouveau necklace “Fuchsias” by Georges Fouquet, 1905. Visible in Petit Palais, Paris. [1232x1848]

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The Golden Reign of the Benevolent Sesselie von Valancius

Thank you to @vasiliquemort for taking my horrible sketch and turning it into a beautiful piece of propaganda, fit to be plastered all over the Koronus Expanse.

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help him

i absolutely did not need to colour this

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Everyone, if you've been intrigued by my slow descent into Warhammer hell, now is the time to act!

The game is 45% off, only $28. That is a fantastic bargain, considering how much enjoyment you'll get out of it

If you have questions or are on the fence, let me know! I will attempt to quell them!

[swordbisexual]

The first time Enid had a properly horny thought about Heinrix (and the first time she embraced the thought, if those were different occasions)

“Do you need a hint, perhaps?”

Enid narrows her eyes at Heinrix. “Hush. I can’t think when you’re giving me the third degree.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile that doesn’t quite reach his lips. “That is the first question I’ve uttered in at least twenty minutes.”

“You’re simply too efficient at interrogation, then.” Enid drums her fingers on the edge of the regicide board. “Now, let me do this. Alone.”

Heinrix leans back in his seat, and Enid takes a moment to watch the way he settles in. He is almost relaxed, if one could call the lone loosened top button on his coat relaxed, and there’s a comfortable ease to the way he rests his elbows on the chair arms, resting the knuckles of one fist against his lips as he considers the board. He looks like he might be amused, and to her annoyance, it’s horribly distracting.

Van Calox is an objectively attractive man. She can’t deny that. She’s never exactly refuted the fact, nor has it been at the forefront of her mind; his looks have only suddenly become something more in the weeks since they began these regular regicide matches to pass the time. Suddenly, the sight of him is enough to make her heart thump; suddenly, his eyes meeting hers are enough to make the back of her neck prickle in anticipation.

Suddenly, the fact that he’s unbuttoned the top of his collar just enough that she can see his throat bob every time he takes a drink makes her want to lick her lips like a predator on the hunt.

She’s so preoccupied with the glimpse of his throat beyond his collar - a sliver of tanned skin that she wants to press her teeth to - that she lets her fingers come to rest on her citadel rather than her ecclesiarch. Cursing inwardly at herself, both for agreeing to Heinrix’s absurd rule that one must move the piece they touch and for carelessly touching one all in the name of staring at the man’s neck, Enid taps the citadel to her lower lip, sighs, and moves it forward.

Heinrix promptly takes the piece, shaking his head, though he can’t hide the curve of his smirk. “Perhaps you could have used my help.”

The effect of it all - his smile, his voice, his terribly smug tone and the taunting sliver of skin below his jaw - makes her flush with want. She wants nothing more than to lean over and take him by the collar and drag him across the table to graze her teeth against the apple of his throat; might be she’d even take one of the pieces from the board and press it between his lips and tell him to hold it there while she nips and sucks at that warpdamned throat to see just how he might whimper.

She blinks. “Well.” This time, she makes certain to pick up her ecclesiarch, barreling forward to trap his Emperor, before realizing too late that he’s set a trap for her with just that move in mind. Sighing, she slumps back in her chair, picking up her glass of amasec. “Your game again, van Calox.”

The look he gives her is oddly pensive, as if he can sense the charge in the air that hasn’t disappeared so much as gone dormant, lying in wait. “Lord Captain?”

Enid waves a hand. “Let’s set the board again.” She looks him in the eye, and the prickling need races down her spine. “I need to observe you one more time.”

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BG3 Enid, happy patch 8 nonsense time.

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Got it working and made a lovely Enid and the minute I tried to send a screenshot from my GFN session to my phone it said hey what if you go fuck yourself instead (though I think this is a GeForce issue). I’m gonna go back to Rogue Trader.

Well I was going to do an Enid run of BG3 for swashbuckler rogue shenanigans but then remembered that I need mods to live (make my aesthetic visions come to life) and most of the ones I use don't work yet. Booooooo.

[swordbisexual]

Well I was going to do an Enid run of BG3 for swashbuckler rogue shenanigans but then remembered that I need mods to live (make my aesthetic visions come to life) and most of the ones I use don't work yet. Booooooo.