#Blessed Agony

[hydropyro]

I made a previous (and very dear to me) Tav out of a hireling and I’m so *happy*

[hydropyro]

1. Born and raised in Menzoberranzan — second son of a lower Noble House.

2. Father is unknown definitively. Good relationship with mother.

3. Standard education for drow noble males. Did well. Wasn’t best of his peers but was promising. Intended on climbing the ranks by being chosen as a mate by a higher house.

4. Never had time for hobbies. Before the tadpole he was working to best serve his House. After the tadpole he is still figuring out who he is. He leans heavily on his companions.

5. He had duties for his House but never needed to ‘make ends meet’.

6. His House was blessed with many girls so his only brother is much older than him. Best childhood memories are of lessons from his brother.

7. Unalived himself out of guilt and was brought back to serve Kelemvor as his cleric.

8. Nothing steady or formal. Most social interactions between houses were entirely political, including those of a sexual nature.

9. He was never ‘taken’. He was placed on board. He was to serve under Minthara Baere. He was not supposed to have woken up on the ship and so wasn’t supposed to know about the tadpoles. Despite learning of the Ilithid parasites, he continued with his mission — driven by a desire to serve his House and impress the Baenre’s

10. Fighting. Yes.

11. Emotions. Definitely

12. Currently not a good one. After Lolth and then the whole issue with the Absolute he would rather avoid gods. Kelemvor was good to him, but even he used him as a tool. Alakvyr is not opposed to participating in worship of Loviatar with Abdirak, but is not interested in becoming a Loviatan.

13. Everything about the surface is wonderful and terrifying. The wilderness moreso because civilisation tends to follow familiar structures that are easier to adapt to with his own experience, whereas surface wild vs Underdark wild are entirely different.

14. Other than the blatant racism, he likes it

15. He was resurrected to serve Kelemvor with the express purpose of destroying the Absolute. In game he romanced Lae’zel, though that is not canon for his story.

16. He used to feel indifferent. He believed that he was superior to most and that he had the right to kill due to his might or for Lolth. But the first time he actually experienced killing during the Grove Raid he felt awful and unalived himself out of guilt. As a cleric of Kelemvor he is expected to avoid unnatural death and only likes to kill if necessary.

17. Very good. Thus is the way of noble drow. He is apathetic to it.

18. Purposelessness

19. A purpose

20. Raiding the Grove

21. Unsure. He loves a man who cannot fully dedicate himself

22. Canon: Abdirak, detailed in “Webs of Fate” and “Blessed Agony”. In game: Lae’zel. He eventually becomes close to Astarion platonically after a very rocky beginning

23. Skip

24. Stoic/scary/drow

25. Unbothered. The reputation drow have isn’t necessarily undeserved — and he in particular is not guiltless

26. No, though he did ‘borrow’ something from Abdirak when he went away so he wouldn’t miss him.

27. Fine. It’s what he was trained to do

28. Depends on the pressure. Physical pressure: fine. Emotional pressure: not good

29. Forgive yourself. Everyone makes mistakes.

30. Find a purpose

30 Questions for your Tav

These questions can be used as an Ask Game or just answering them all for fun character development!

(Dark Urge edition here)

What was your Tav’s place of birth and raising like?

What relationship did your Tav have with their family/guardian(s) growing up? Has that changed with age?

Did your Tav receive any formal or informal education? If yes, how well did they learn? If no, why not?

What hobbies does your Tav have? How did they acquire these interests?

Did your Tav have any formal or informal employment? If yes, what was their job? If no, how did they make ends meet? How did they feel about it?

What is your Tav’s favourite childhood memory?

What circumstances led to your Tav becoming their Class/Subclass?

Did your Tav have any romantic and/or sexual relationships prior to their illithid adventure? If yes, who was it with and what was it like? If no, how did they feel about being single?

What was your Tav doing when they were taken by the mind flayers?

What would your Tav consider to be their greatest skill? Is this accurate?

What would your Tav consider to be their greatest flaw? Is this accurate?

What opinion does your Tav have about the Gods?

How does your Tav feel about the wilderness?

How does your Tav feel about the city?

What motivates your Tav to either embrace or resist the tadpole?

How does your Tav feel about killing?

How good of a liar is your Tav? How do they feel about lying?

What is your Tav’s greatest fear?

What is your Tav’s greatest desire?

What is your Tav’s greatest regret?

How does your Tav feel about love?

Has your Tav become particularly close to anyone romantically and/or platonically in their journey? If so, who, and what is the relationship like? If no, why not?

What are 2-3 songs that your Tav would relate to?

What first impression does your Tav give off to strangers?

How does your Tav feel about what others think of them?

Does your Tav have a treasured item with them? If yes, what is it and why is it special? If no, how do they feel about item sentimentality in general?

How does your Tav feel about giving and receiving orders?

How well does your Tav function under pressure?

What advice would you give to your Tav?

What are your Tav’s intentions/goals after the end of the game?

[forzathunder]

"I have many fears, most of them about Lucrezia." — Cesare Borgia (The Borgias, 2011-2013) + hints of insecurity

that she adores someone that much / if she will reject his dark nature and act of love and violence as Ursula did / if he truly is not part of her desires / that she easily forgets him

[sorunort]

i said in another post i was rping loop in a multifandom rp group and i'm having a lot of fun! so much fun that i made a giant doodle sheet of loop's glitch....that i haven't even gotten to rp yet but am so excited to im getting carried away. whoops

(in the context of the group, think of glitching like in spiderverse, they don't belong in this new world/dimension so their existence rejects it. we can do whatever we want for glitches so i just made loop's that they get their humanity back. yknow. for misery whenever they unglitch and go back to being a star [thumbs up])

i think my favorite here might just be the Go there Go Into the Dark catcrumb edit lmao

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[fxvixen]

the audacity of Xie Lian in the first book to say "I'm afraid you don't know how to paint the Prince of Xianle, am I right?"

Hua Cheng had to have been thinking ".................while you were scrap-collecting, I studied the blade brush"

[xinilia]

me getting soap in my eye in the shower and feeling like hua cheng creating e-ming

[you-shiny-thing]

I wanted to draw Oberon and asked for ideas, and a salt lick was among those ideas. Thus, the saga

The tragedy of a deer being unable to lick the salt cube, for he lacks a tongue :( He can only witness it, and watch as his comrades enjoy it.

The sorrow, the despair the forbidden fruit salt can inflict on one frame

And finally, due to popular demand, he has been given a maw with which to lick. And all is well in the woods again.

[lunarblossomyuehua]

Hello I am in agony after reading the blackwater arc and in need of therapy now

[vanityangel]

TOA LIONA AEW DYNAMITE (JANURARY 31, 2024)

[swampstew]

Saw this meme and was like ahhh perfect placement for this doodle @toxic--jpg was lovely enough to send to my straw.page ❤️

[hydropyro]

Inappropriate use of a health potion (WIP)

Full NSFW here

[compressednerve]

Literally one of my most favorite moments from the entire series.

[thebirdandhersong]

you guys won't believe this but y'all what a miracle..... God's grace always seems to come in floods when you least expect it. The boy problem is now resolved and at rest (well. somewhat.)

I somehow got around to talking to him yesterday about the disastrous conversation (the one where he went on at length about my age) and, God bless him, it was all ignorance rather than malice. He listened for a while, his face becoming more and more drawn and appalled as I explained how X thing came off, and at one point he just put his head on the table and was very, very upset because he hadn't thought about it from my perspective and hadn't realised the effects of his words. It was a surprisingly comfortable conversation (it is always easy to talk to him), and it was a relief to hear from his lips that he hadn't meant any of it in a hurtful way - he hadn't thought about how his words might sound at all.

[mercymaker]

i hate my mind being a quilt of obscure as shit references and endless oc lore because every once in a while when i'm reading about mal or looking at art/gifs/caps of her i randomly exclaim 'WHAT?! SHE'S DEAD???!!' and not like a normal person, na ah. i say it the way james says it in THE BEST OF JRM 31 youtube video at exactly 10 minutes and 35 seconds after he alt-tabbed to snooze a twitch ad and got chainsaw'd by billy

[sashayed]

Darlingside | "Green Light"

May you see that your God is only human kindness And may you see that the concrete is no less divine than this