thereluctantinquisitor reblogged
Cyrus just makes such a good catboy…
thereluctantinquisitor reblogged
Ok but the fact that bnnuy can be this unapologetically pretty… priceless
thereluctantinquisitor reblogged
Getting back into Baldur’s Gate 3 because I had a Deep Craving and now I am compromised.
BONUS - It was love at first knife…
thereluctantinquisitor reblogged
8. sunbathing blease ?
Hi chouchou!! Thank you for this <333 I know you asked for sunbathing for a very specific reason, so I’m going to direct you to this piece for that, and go in a completely different direction instead. Love you!
8. Sunbathing
He should get out of the sun soon. Noon was approaching, and with it the hottest hour of the day, when the sun was its strongest and most damaging. But he was a vain man, after all, and he did enjoy the tan he could achieve in a city so dry that it barely rained all year. It was awful for his complexion, the dryness, but at least there were ways to combat that.
Tiago closed his eyes and saw the outline of his brother in his mind’s eye. You’re blocking the sun, dearest brother, he would say every time, but Emilio would simply smile one of his charming smiles, the same as his own, with perfect pearly teeth, and tell him that there was plenty of other sun to bask in in these lands of theirs.
Until he couldn’t anymore.
Wouldn’t, he reminded himself. Traitor.
With a heavy sigh, he sat up and got to his feet. He had business to attend to soon. And he hoped, for Emilio’s sake, that he couldn’t find him.
Anesthetic is so weird it’s like you’re awake and then you immediately wake up again
Anonymous asked:
*chants* drow drow drow DROW (pssssst show us your BG3 drow pleaase)
DROW DROW DROW DROW
His name is Calannar. He’s an asshole and a fighter and about to be dragged kicking and screaming down a wild Softening(TM) arc
Deagna, right? That's a nice name. I hope you remember it.
Varsha, my drunken master monk, shortly before facing a dwarf in a local fight pit.
#listen i never come up with anything decent to say before these kinds of moments#this was one i was PROUD OF lol#she acted drunk off her ass so the odds would be better for her buddies when they bet on her#and the bookie took one look at her and was like 'she's done for' and paired her against someone 'easy'#and Varsha clobbered her in one (1) round courtesy of flurry of blows#>:)#reluctant does dnd#varsha cobre#it was a very unfair fight lbr
thereluctantinquisitor reblogged
Still On My Mind (pt. 2)
A continuation of this wonderful fic by @lavellanlove, based on our novel-length RP. In which Cyrus finally has a chance to realise he’s developed more feelings than he expected for Maleus…
At the sound of a knock on his door, Cyrus stirred, groaning softly as he pried his face from the surface of his desk. The tourney, and everything that had happened, had left him utterly drained. Rubbing his cheek roughly, he cleared his throat and called, “What?”
There was an uncertain pause. “Ser – uh, Ser Cyrus?” the voice beyond the door asked. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Take away the family name, and suddenly Orlesians didn’t know what to do. But he answered in the affirmative and the door creaked open, revealing a young woman in serving attire. “Apologies, Ser. You have a parcel.”
Frowning, Cyrus looked her over once then turned away. “If it’s from someone called ‘Joustis’, just toss it over there.” He gestured sharply to the left side of the room. In the silence, he could practically hear the slow, uncertain movement of her eyes.
“The… fireplace?”
“Yes.”
She seemed taken aback, but recovered quickly. “My apologies, but it is not from, ah… anyone by that name.”
That was truly unexpected. Who on Thedas would be writing to him? Curiosity piqued, Cyrus turned and stood, tugging his shirt sharply back into place as he moved. “Fine. Give it to me.”
They met halfway across the room, and with a hasty curtsy the servant practically fled for the safety of the hallway. Inspecting the letter and small package, Cyrus turned it over in his hands. The penmanship was… well, excellent, frankly. The letters of his name seemed to come alive on the front of the envelope.
He set down the parcel and reached for his belt, tossed haphazardly on the side of the desk, he slid out a small blade and slit the top of the letter…
Dearest Cyrus,
Fuck, that alone was enough to give him pause.
thereluctantinquisitor reblogged
Last Line Meme
I wasn’t tagged by anyone, but I wanna start this up again because I like seeing them on my dash. So I’m posting the last line of my latest WIP, which is just….forever Seven Cities.
Desertion wasn’t uncommon in the Service, but she had left in the rather poor regard of the bosun, and the bastard had a colorful imagination. She had managed to avoid any familiar faces for the better part of a year now, and though she could stuff most of the remnants of the young deckhand Alex Sheffield beneath skirts and long, plaited hair, she preferred the added assurance of knowing that no one within a league of her would know the name anyway.
Starting Curse of Strahd tomorrow.
I am not ready.
I love how our weather warning is like “Damaging wind. Heavy rainfall. Large hail. Giant hail.”
I have covered my car in foam.
Pls be safe my sweet.
@chaitea09 replied to your post: I think hanin is just... So pretty... I am wooed
Hanin’s buns of steel
He 100% has the ‘unarmoured defense’ class feature
@bladeverbena replied to your photoset: Sometimes, you just feel like adding a Scruffy...
I hereby invite you to attend the wedding of Smith and Scruffy Beard Boy on the 9th of August. Please RSVP asap.
Attending
thereluctantinquisitor reblogged
-=Silver=-
“Just…Silver. Best kept secret in Minrathous.”