#alberic

[akiserii]

[flourish-of-steel]

4th Sun - Teen

Alberic teaching Estinien

[shadandrews]

fellow DND player!! can i ask what your character (or favorite NPC if you’re a DM) is?

YESS!!! Ofc always

My CURRENT boy is Jewels(he/they)! He is a tiefling rogue sort of con-man (think reigen [mob100] and madame tracy [good omens] type cons). He's a party rock kind of guy and would much rather be out partying in the club but is forced to help save the world. He used to help manage a small rock band that consisted of his bffs, but they had a big friend fight fallout bc hes irresponsible and was kind of a bad PR look on the band oopsie. He's a mess but a fun time, and you can always trust him to make a situation worse. He's my Pete Wentz character

My FAVORITE meowmeow is Bogdan(he/him). Tiefling warlock (tech we started this game trying out 4e, so he was a swordmage, and the transfer to 5e and to warlock made him worse LMFAO) He was in a campaign and had an awful time. I married the big-bad of this campaign(+3 previous games in the same world.....) who was a demon who lost his heart and could not feel positive emotions(re: love).... he's a good boy who had a hard life and is a mild villian in the world sort of. He's living w his husband (who, thru some bs DID grow back his heart (true love is the strongest magic), but bogdan doesn't know this bc his husband IS awful (but loves him) ) and his husbands...boyfriend??? its fine they're all awful and i love them soooooo much hes a sad little worm.

oh also his husband was his warlock patron. its a mess dont worry about it

As for NPCs, i dont know if they were my FAV NPC, but they were probably the most fun to play!! Alberic(they/them) is a bunny sort of druid warlock bloodmage. We never got super far in this campaign for various reasons, but they were a sweet little country bunny who lived alone in the woods, but was actually working w the main villain of the campaign (semi-willingly but they hated it and him). The party never got to find that out but they were sooooo sweet and small and trusting. They covered up all of the areas where their body was being worn away by bad magic with clothes or bandages (old art included)

Less so now, but I've played a toonnn of DND and have...a lot of characters LOL. Ive been in several major campaigns (a lot of which in the same world by the same dm!! https://deckitout.tumblr.com has dm'd most of my big games!!) but i also get attached to one shot or small campaign characters too oopsie

[varlinhoes]

Happy Friday the 13th and here's the last of the pre-game Silvaines! He and Estinien have a fight relating to Azure Dragoon duties, and eventually Silvie runs away from Ishgard... Haurchefant knows and hopes being away from Ishgard makes him happy... but Alberic doesn't know what's going on and is very confused until the DRG quests happen (A very wild series of family therapy sessions..)

[crossroadsdimension]

A Warrior Returned ch 89

The next chapter for this MobiusFF/FFXIV crossover is up!

Wol completes the last of the Dragoon job quests for ARR this week!

[archiveofaffinities]

Josef Albers, Lattice Painting, 1922

[antoine-de-sealand]

Albéric ou le dragon au sommet - Tome 2

J'annonce que "Les deux faces de la Wyverne", second volume de "Albéric, ou le dragon au sommet" devrait sortir le 15 avril !

Une séance de dédicace est déjà prévue au Vent Divin, le samedi��4 mai !

Présentation, pour ceux qui ne connaissent pas encore la saga :

"Albéric, ou le dragon au sommet" narre la quête d'Albéric, personnage éponyme et félon sans égal, d'un pouvoir absolu qui s'obtiendrait par l'alchimie; quête qui se fera sur fond de complots divins et d'éveils de titans de fin du monde, aux inspirations lovecraftienne. Bien étendu, pareille entreprise confrontera notre Albéric à d'autres individus amoraux et ambitieux comme lui, décrivant toute une galerie de personnages hauts en couleur. Le récit est lyrique et crépusculaire, mais n'oublie pas d'être drôle - déjà de par ses personnages fantasques, mais aussi car il contient tout ce qui fait le sel du genre : complots entre nobles, voyages, batailles épiques, sorcellerie, créatures mythologiques..

PAS ENCORE CONVAINCUS ?

Un extrait gratuit ici : https://tinyurl.com/2p866kxe

ALBÉRIC est disponible en format papier ici :

Lulu.com : https://t.co/NgfrH7TYvt

Amazon : https://t.co/QDlhKPFB59

En librairies :

Libraire Escapade - 3 Rue de Pâques, 67000 Strasbourg

Librairie Kléber - 1 Rue des Francs-Bourgeois, 67000 Strasbourg

Librairie Confluence - 5 Rue Sainte-Croix, 57200 Sarreguemines

Librairie l'Indépendante - 14 Route du Polygone, 67100 Strasbourg

Librairie Presqu'Île - Centre commercial Rivetoile, 3 Pl. Dauphine, 67100 Strasbourg

Et en eBook ici :

Lulu.com : https://t.co/GkbF8Arfoj

Amazon : https://t.co/Q8XP6sl4CD

Kobo : https://t.co/wtXW79iPJk

FNAC : https://t.co/At5hW1l7pi

Retrouvez-moi sur Babelio & les réseaux sociaux :

Babelio : https://www.babelio.com/auteur/Antoine-de-Sealand/663087

Booknode : https://tinyurl.com/5n7r7bnj

Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/antoine.de.sealand/

Twitter : https://twitter.com/CosmosStultus

Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/antoine_de_sealand/

Bluesky : https://bsky.app/profile/antoine-de-sealand.bsky.social

[abstracteddistractions]

Anni Albers, "Tapestry," 1948,

Linen and cotton,

Dimensions16 1/2 x 18 3/4" (41.9 x 47.6 cm),

© 2025 The Josef and Anni Albers Foundation / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.

Courtesy: MoMa

[tscamver]

kaeya bday art

[sinsofnivan]

Oh my gosh I love your works !! If you’re taking requests still could you pleaseeee give us some more Wesker!! Something possessive if you could! xx

haunted.

it's undeniable that a part of wesker is human. he cares. he yearns. he feels. above all else, he loves. he loves you—his precious darling—who he would do everything and anything for. who belongs to him as he belonged to you. everything he does, it's for you. after all, you're his to take care of, to protect, to keep, to watch.

there's an occasional intrusive thought that you'd leave, that someone could just take you away from him. it didn't bother him, at first. it shouldn't. but the thought—no, fear—worms its way into his head. haunts him awake. and it didn't help when you took a spontaneous trip home, meeting with your old friends.

love is selfish. wesker realizes that now. because he'll never share, never share you with anyone. but you wouldn't leave, right? you belonged to him. why would you leave him, when he was a god that knelt to you?

⟡

"a, albert—," you tugged on his hair, groaning as his monstrous tongue grazed that spongy bud in your cunt, nose grinding against your clit every so often. his built arms are wrapped around your body, keeping you still. it was hard to stay upright, not when this amount of pleasure coursed through you. it made your knees weak, made you whimper as he tongue-fucked your pussy.

his sunglasses are abandoned, recklessly tossed off somewhere, so wesker could see you clearly. his usual slit pupils are dilated—dilated with lust and love as he watches you crumble before him.

he could hardly feel the fatigue pooling in his knees—that wasn’t his concern now. you were. reminding you what he could give you & what you have was. spit’s dribbling down his chin messily, smearing alongside your inner thighs; you're his. nobody else could have you, could taste you.

his tongue kept grazing on that spongy spot in that pretty pussy—he didn't even need to try. wesker just knew your body more than you knew yours. "mm," he groaned, brushing his nose against your clit. you only grind against his face pathetically. fuck, you tasted and smelled so good. his cock's aching in his pants.

another brush of his wet, tendril-like muscle and you're coming undone; squealing as your juices begin to squirt on his face. wesker's brows furrow together, drinking all of it up. he can't help himself, stroking the bulge in his pants. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—he needs you, he needs you now. your knees buckle beneath you, but that's okay, wesker's strong enough to hold you up.

you could hear just how wet you are, even with your loud, echoing moans. wesker helps you ride your high, and fuck, your vision's blurring, and your irises are receding to the back of your sockets, grip tightening on his locks again.

it hurts how you tug on his hair, but wesker doesn't really care; tongue retracting as it slowly slid out from your aching cunt. "do you feel good, my love?" you can barely process his question amidst your pleasure-fuddled brain. this is how wesker wants you. docile 'n dependent on him.

"do you feel good, my love?"

he repeats so deceivingly sweet, rubbing circles on your sensitive clit. "h, haaah—y, yes," you finally answer, hips twitching as he slowly stroked your sensitive clit. "nobody else can give this to you." switching to his thumb, you squealed when he began to practically vigorously rub your puffy clit. "a, albert—!" "right?" "yes! yesyesyes! j, jus' stop r, rubbin' it, 'm sensiti—ooh—♡!?"

you squealed when wesker takes the sensitive nub in between his fingers, pinching so unkindly 'nd coaxing out more whimpers from you. "yes— yes, o, only you c, can—hnnnggh—can m, make me feel good!" "that's iiiiit, darling. let it aaaall out." his tongue's nicely lapping on your clit again, tryin' to milk out another orgasm from you.

"albert—albeeeert, fuck! fuckfuckfuck!" another suckle of his lips, and you're spraying him everywhere, again. wesker hates to waste a drop, but whatever. he'll drink all of you. you're trembling. spit beading from the edges of your lips. starting from your inner thighs, wesker starts to kiss his way up 'til his lips are on yours; a hand wrapped around your throat as he devoured your mouth.

only you could bring this out from wesker, give into the urges that he used to suppress; tongue possessively filling your mouth as it trails down to your throat. “mph—hnn!” you weakly wrapped your arms around him.

it’s instinct for wesker to hold your body, caressing your thighs ‘nd resting nicely on your ass—and it’s instinct for him to grope 'nd knead your curvaceous rear. when you part, there’s strings of spit clinging on both your lips.

"beg me to fuck you,"

"please,"

"ah-ah. i know y'can do better than that,"

"pl, please, albe—s, sir. fuck me. stretch my cunt out. i need your cock . . . "

you beg so so prettily, 'specially when your waterline's glistenin' with salty tears, 'specially when you're palming his bulge so desperately.

"y'wanna get fucked by me, pretty pup?"

"mhm! mhm. please, please, i need your cock. pleaseeeee,"

⟡

it’s sudden—you barely even remember—but you’re pinned beneath him, back pressed against the expensive leather of your couch, your legs nicely resting atop your boyfriend’s shoulders, and his cock buried deep in your creamy cunt.

with the prep he's given you, it was just so easy for him to fuck you, to pound you mercilessly again ‘n again ‘n again 'til your toes curled, balls always smacking against your ass everytime he's pelvis-to-pelvis with you. you always looked so delicious, being wrecked like this—mm, you sounded fucking delicious too.

“ahn—h, haaah, feels g, goooood!” you sobbed, leaving crimson crescents into his skin. “you’re mine,” wesker whispers in your ear, continuing to slam into you so inhumanely you can barely think, or breathe. not when your knees are pressed against your chest. "yours—'m yours!" all you could do was whimper, lay 'n take it while he used your leaking cunt. "gooood fucking girl," and oh, how you clenched around him with just his praise . . the pleasure was beyond addicting.

wesker knows you're meant for him. only for him.

because he loved breaking you, and in turn, you loved being broken by him. "you don't need anyone else, do you?" "no! no, a, albert! just yoooou . . ♡," the urge to just creampie you right there and then was high, but he needed you to see you undone, completely and utterly.

it's not surprising that wesker can still pick up his pace, roughly pounding you into the cushions. his cries mix with yours, his orgasm coming dangerously, dangerously quick. "you'll be mine forever," wesker watches your fucked out state, watches you mindlessly nod and agree. "f, fuh—f, forever, promiseeee—♡!" he grinned.

"yeah? you p, promise, baby?"

"uh-huuuuuh—♡!"

"you'll be marrying me. take my name—, oh, fuck."

each brutal thrust of his hips sent you closer n closer to your orgasm, and you squealed when the tip's nicely kissing that right spot. "right there? cumming, darling?" you barely respond, squealing as you squirt on his cock with your legs completely shaking as you cried out.

"'m cumming—oh my god, albert—fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuck—!"

it's exactly what wesker needs to send him completely over the edge, to fill that womb with thick, fertile cum; he buries himself deep into you, nudging your cervix with the crown of his cock. wesker crashes his lips on yours, you whine when he began to fill your throat, too. he seems pleased when he feels you instinctively suckle on his tongue.

he's cumming absolutely lots, flooding your cunt 'til it leaked from you. it's okay, he'll finger it back in you later, like what good girls like you deserve. for now, he's busying himself with stuffing your throat full.

you're absolutely weak and breathless when he pulls his tongue away, licking your jaw and lapping up the sweat that glistened on your skin. "h, haah . . hnn . . " you pant, mind broken and spent. wesker, as gently and as carefully as he could, lowered your legs, letting it rest on his sides. you're both covered in sweat, and he interlaces his fingers with yours. his other hand caressed your face, a thumb rubbing your flushed cheek.

"next month. we'll have our own wedding, have our own house and island, be on our honeymoon . . "

"w, what?"

"you'll be mine forever. you're mrs. wesker now,"

you should protest—fight back, anything—but instead it only comes out as a broken whimper, especially when he starts to move his hips again.

though, some traitorous part of you doesn't even want to say no . .

end.

[orangesandshades]

Anni Albers, Under Way, 1963 (Weberei aus Baumwolle, Leinen, Wolle)

[garadinervi]

Josef Albers, Gouache studies for prints 'White line squares III' and 'White Line Square IV', 1966 [National Gallery of Australia, Kamberri/Canberra. © The Josef and Anni Albers Foundation / ARS, New York]

[kacievvbbbb]

Something about Vegapunk using the dna and blood of a caged and experimented on child to create more caged child experiments and the cycles we perpetuate.

Because what does it mean that all that King has left as proof, that the lunarians were real, that they existed as a tribe, as a people, are seven manufactured children he doesn’t even know about, enslaved as weapons to the government that wiped out the culture they’ll never get to be a part of, and Alber himself another enslaved child lost to something he’ll never fully know.

And what of the warlords? Already young once and hurt by their government, young again and slaves to it. Boa looking at a version of her practically pulled out of time stuck in her worst nightmare or Jimbei looking at a version of himself living out a past he escaped by the skin of his teeth but so many he loved didn’t, even Doffy once again at the mercy of the people that already abandoned him, has Kuma not suffered enough? Given enough, is this child version of him doomed to repeat the same path he already could not escape from . Property of the world government, beholden to the celestial dragons, this version of me that cannot go free?

It’s interesting that Vegapunk joined the government so that he could do the most good, but look at the long line of people right infront of him that he’s hurt with his own hands.

[varlinhoes]

Little guy got traumatized in this timeframe... from what I like to call 'The Great Varlineau Family BBQ'🥰 He also meet Haurche soon after coming to Ishgard! And 3 years after, they meet Francie~ (Not when he was 3 btw...)

[geryone]

Poem For Rebecca Bunch, Brianna Albers

[archiveofaffinities]

Josef Albers, Homage to the Square, 1950