#clerical neckline

[gogmstuff]

1908 (December) Les Modes - Robe de visites par Margaine-Lacroix - Photo by Reutlinger. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1292X2100.

[chaos-burst]

[ID: a digital full-body drawing of my D&D OC Morel done by @sadfishkid. They’re a firbolg with brown fur and long, floppy ears. They’re standing turned to the left side of the picture at a 45° angle with both arms raised up at their sides while looking directly at the viewer with a serious expression. Their crow called Mouse sits on their right hand. Morel has bovine features and short, curly, black hair with mushrooms growing out of their head like a flower crown made of mushrooms. The mushrooms are small and pink, blue and green and are glowing slightly. Morel’s ears are pierced and they’re wearing a black blouse with a high and frilly neckline, a long, black skirt and a necklace made of bones with a small bird-skull dangling from it. Behind them is a light grey rectangle, the rest of the background is white. End ID]

yet another commission of my beautiful 20 wisdom/8 charisma hermit goth cow who lives in a hut in the woods and is a prophet of the deity of decay. they’re a spores druid/knowledge domain cleric (i am working towards grave domain in the future :D) who gives free healthcare to those who have nowhere else to go! 

[masterqwertster]

Fashion for the Bells Hells C2 Class Swap AU

Had some thoughts on appearance changes for everybody based on their "new" classes, so here we go!

Orym: School of Divination Wizard

Same base layers, but replace the armor with a happi (think haori/captain coat from Bleach, but butt-length instead of ankle-length). It gives that wizard robe vibe without actually being long enough to threaten to kite Orym around Zephrah

The happi is filled with pockets on the inside for components, including a few in the sleeves for quick access. The spellbook goes in a pocket over Orym's heart

The bottom and sleeve edges have a swirling clouds pattern, there's a vine and flowers pattern around the neckline, and an Ashari emblem on the back of the happi. He's also got a little lapel fastener-pin-chain where the pin parts are a Big Moon Little Moon

Orym still has Will's shield, and uses it as a casting focus. Or at the very least can finagle it into a scrying tool, either by filling the bowl of it with water or polishing it mirror bright. (Derrig's sword went to Lita since Orym has less use for it as a wizard)

Orym's spellbook is pocket notebook sized, as regular-sized books are a little hard to squirrel away on his person. Plus with his Perception, it's not like he needs a big font for his spells (though it's hell for others trying to copy his spells)

Fearne: Path of the Herald of Storms (Desert) Barbarian

Hair in a big braid, first of all. Her hair would look great in a braid with flowers tucked all through it. Plus it keeps her hair from going all over the place as she gets up close and physical

Corset like her Level 9 art, in leather, for a bit of protection

Same dress as Level 3 art, but knee-length all around for ease of movement

Detached sleeves are replaced with arm bands on the upper arms and leather bracers on the forearms

Long sickle for her weapon

Imogen: Order Domain Cleric

Honestly, there's no reason really to change her overall Level 3 look. The big difference would be no gloves.

Showing off the lightning marks as a "divine blessing"

Wears a Stormlord belt buckle as the lightning marks led people to believe he's the god that "blessed" her. She knows he's not, despite the storm dream and lightning, because she reached out to him once and it felt wrong. But she pretends to be a follower of his to not raise questions she doesn't have answers to

Also wears a lightning brooch Laudna made for her, and is her actual holy symbol (representing her new lease on life after meeting Laudna)

Has her dagger for a melee weapon, though vastly prefers spells

Laudna: Way of Shadow Monk

Blouse is the same, but wears a four-split "skirt". Think sort of like TLoVM Vex's long tunic, but there's dangling panels on sides as well. And when Laudna stands still, it looks like a full skirt

There are basically capris on beneath the skirt, so when she does dope monk shit she's not flashing bare thighs and shit

Flat shoes/slippers

She has a three-part collapsible staff for her weapon

Hair is either all cut short at shoulder-length to keep out of the way, or up in a full bun with tuck behind the ear bangs (and the bags can be let loose for her Ring Girl impressions)

Chetney: Oath of the Ancients Paladin/Hexblade Walock

Wood armor, because it's funny

The wood armor is either enchanted or made from a steel hard fantasy tree. And Chet has to roll to see if it catches on fire when he takes fire damage (weather conditions affect the DC)

His sharpest chisel became his pact weapon for Hexblade

FCG: Mastermind Rogue/School of Enchantment Wizard

The only difference for FCG is that the straps of their backpack double as a bandoleer for throwing knives/darts. Maybe a special side-pocket for his spellbook

Ashton: Order of the Lycan Blood Hunter (modified/reskinned)/Forge Domain Cleric

Regular pants, not a jump suit, but the sides of the pants are laced up, ankle to waist, with a fair bit of extra lacing tucked in special inner pockets

Instead of buckles, the vest has cinch straps across the torso and also over the shoulders

These modifications are because Ashton's clothes need to expand pretty fiercely to fit their elemental "lycanthrope" form. It's only a foot taller than normal Ashton, but easily twice as wide/thick

No sleeves if he even thinks he's going to go hybrid form. The arms are too thick and bottom heavy with huge crystal claws. Plus crystal spurs at the shoulders and elbows. Sleeves would just rip and explode

Pants get away with expanding trick because they're just tree trunk thick with no spikes to worry about

Holy symbol is a wireframe pin of the symbol on the pocket of the Ashton Pocket T-Shirt from the critrole shop. They pin it to their lapel. Might fill in the gaps later with colored glass or gems

[pricemarshfield]

OCS AS TRAGIC LOVE ARCHETYPES

tagged by @gwynbleidd ; thank you so much for the tag, this was such a fun uquiz and i love thinking about my ocs!! also your headers for your ocs are so so pretty

tagging @wretcheddthing @sterlingsnail @prettyaveragewhiteshark @goldfyshie927 @antifragilejpn @elliewilliams @butchboromir and anyone else who’d like to talk about their ocs! or just take it for yourself if you like!

(below the cut as it’s long)

tav khoury; tempest cleric of talos/college of lore bard — caníbales, devourer

Love's a knife to skin to you, a vein to woven muscle, blood puddle before you. You listened to all the promises of a stranger's relief and feel the drain of a shower head running it all down again. You committed another murder; kissed and bruised skin with a clench to a quivering wrist and went home in the defeaning quiet of a taxi. There's mold covered rage within you. If to take a heart home with you, you'd bite your way through muscle and ribcage first. Pleasure comes, but there will be no devouring past it. There is fear in settling down and being seen. There is a glass screen between these bodies and you. Relax your tight jaw and feel the real canine fear beneath that scabbed up cavity. The sacrifice of opening up is needed if to be loved as you deeply wish inside. Desire doesn't discriminate between hands or spoken word. Why should you?

hojo rine, wreck — sub rosa

Love is a game of here and there to you. Whether catching glimpse of another's neckline or grazing a knuckle between knocking shoulders of passing by. You have learned to adore in secrecy, the rawness of an outright confession to be spoken a foreign terror. There is ease in pursuing the unavailable, to remain within the space of possibility and nestle the fuzzy words another could say to make or break your day. Instability spun itself into mysterium and while the certainty of love in aging isn't to be forced upon anyone, there is a miniscule part of you testing the limits of ambiguity. Hold down the feeling and settle in the leather seat of a car, kiss the corner of a mouth and say how you feel. Your affection in its vulnerability is to be seen, lift the veil and do not fret when an honest word turns into all you have secretly yearned for. You are meant to be noticed and openly loved.

isabella ellis, stele, hellborn — mother’s daughter

Being her child was akin to a whispered apology, another wailing hug, another day you repent for complaining about the fact that she hasn't said anything nice to you. You bring her flowers and are met with the inconvenience of a vase that has to be found instead. You bake for her and feel the warmth of fresh cut bread fill the kitchen; but the dirty dishes remain. Even if you were to bring in the mail and lay down the knife next to your plate, she'll cradle another. Love is an endless apology to you. Averting eyes to desperate tears and sunken teeth in lower lip at the dinner table. Do not repent for who you are, as it is enough. Gather your courage to love again and reveal the honeydewed structure of a swelling heart once you feel safe to do so instead. Love isn't a confession booth of all you are not, settle down and unclasp your hands. You're all anyone could want already.

sabrina lindeman — cupid’s brother

You have been love adjacent all your life. The faint spill of another story that softly grazed your shoulders when stood too close. Whether by design or not, you have yet to build a clear image of what love means to you. The interlocked weaving of a picture locket bound to strand of hair when hugged to tight, the sunpatch that meets your soles in glaring sun dried fields when running with a friend. You are not far from love, but moving between line of collision and avoidance at all times. A faint glimmer on sea lake surface of what could be. There is time to find what you want, find whether it's enough as is. Love is in you, breathing in another day. Continue as you are, realizing the love that is slowly blossoming in your life as it sharpens and clears in brushstrokes.

*vibrating at a speed previously thought impossible for humans to reach* i like my ocs a normal amount

[lemon-juice-thief]

[ID: a digital drawing of a pale-skinned halfling. they have auburn hair styled in a curly bob, and short pointed ears. in their left hand they hold a tall wooden staff, with a jar full of fireflies hanging from the top of it. they wear a long dark brown cloak with a leaf-like trim at the neckline and small golden stars decorating the bottom half. they are wearing golden plate armour and dark trousers with a blue sash tied around their waist. 4 more fireflies surround them. End ID]

have a twilight cleric <3

[thedivinityofbloodshed]

What sort of clothes do the ROs wear on a regular basis?

Under the cut, because on some of them I used images :)

Maya- Your stereotypical adventurer

Opal- She is almost always wearing full armor (no helmet though)

Ellis- A simple dress (though theirs would have sleeves and not as deep of a neckline) usually paired with boots

Lock- Something like this is what most clerics of Samara tend to wear (he also usually wears metal bracers)

Flint- Wears one of these shirts (probably with a lower and wider neckline) with the tightest pants he can find and some knee-high boots

[mia-africa-americas]

Tunic, c. 1900, Minneapolis Institute of Art: Art of Africa and the Americas

pullover style with flaring hem; vertical slits at front and back center; vertical slit neckline; long sleeves; tan with brown applied geometric patterns and designs in patchwork-like fashion separated by decorative zigzag bands; several rectangular areas of text; indigo trim at inner neckline, bottom hem and sleeve ends at inside Whoever wore this cotton tunic, more than a hundred years ago, was a member of the military nobility of the West African Anufo people. Verses from chapters 5 and 38 of the Qur’an, and invocations of God the Merciful, inscribed on the garment by a Muslim cleric, offered fortitude and protection. Blocks of wavy lines around the shoulders look like Arabic letters but are not readily legible. They form a repetitive script, possibly a supernatural language invoking the assistance of jinn, spirits that, according to the Qur’an, God created of “smokeless fire.” Interpretation of text: Indeed, this is Our provision; for it there is no depletion. In the name of God, the Lord of Mercy, the Giver of Mercy! God knows, He is the most Merciful! God protects you from people. In the name of God, the Lord of Mercy, the Giver of Mercy! Oh God, the Merciful! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Size: 40 3/4 × 54 3/4 in. (103.51 × 139.07 cm) Medium: Cotton

https://collections.artsmia.org/art/118769/

[pettyprocrastination]

I saw some dope ass fabrics so i want to post them and the vibes they have lets go 

1. 

elegant, beautiful. My fave out of the trio just because you know i love some religious type imagery. The person who wears this is some horny ass cleric who dreams about getting railed every night before crying during prayer because of their sins, no matter who wears this the outfit DOES show off some tasty and prominent titty God bless amen 10/10 imagining a gown out of this in my head rn 

2.

Bold. Bitching. Lannister energy out the ASS this is the shit you wear when you send your enemy to an execution as you watch on with a raised chin while they scream at you but you dont show a single emotion even as they get their head chopped off. 9/10 only because we hate the lanisters in this house babe long live dorne 

3.

sexy sneaky sNAKEY what more can you ask for? this is something i see as being a lace overlay in a wide slit of an otherwise covering dress or a coverupt for a revealing neckline. And i know theyre all about the oranges and golds but cmon this has some dorne energy right there and im mentally designing a gown based off this just because of the vibes 10/10 would wear this while playing chess with somebody that serves as a metaphor for either sex or the ongoing tensions between two characters of enemy noble families. 

[gogmstuff]

1908 (August issue) Les Modes At the races, Les Modes - photo by Édition. From les-modes.tumblr.com/page/28; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 648X1550.

[quasieli]

[Image description: A digital drawing of my D&D character, Saube, set against a pale purple background. Saube is a young, chubby, burgundy tiefling with her dark purple hair cut into a messy pixie cut. She is wearing a dark green dress with dark grey-purple accents, including short, ruffly off the shoulder sleeves; a ruffly trim at the neckline; and a sash-like belt tied at the waist. The skirt of the dress poofs out slightly and is made up of three sections: two panels that wrap around her hips and split in the back and a separate panel in the front. She is also wearing several accessories including a metal flower crown; a necklace with a bird in flight carved into it; a series of gold bangles; two small hoop piercings in each ear, one gold and one black, one of which has two black feathers dangling from it; and two glowing rings of fire around the base of her horns. She is standing with one hand behind her back and the other in a closed fist pressed to her cheek as she smiles bashfully. End description.]

Here it is, Saube's new look! I had a really fun time designing this and creating a new look for her. She’s fully embracing “new year, new me”, even though it’s like the equivalent of September in her game lol. She has a new style, a new gender/pronouns (demigirl and she/they), and some new understandings about herself and her life, and with that, a newfound realization of how much she loves her current life. She can’t wait to see what’s in store for this new chapter in her life.    

Some ramblings and musing about my favorite tief and her makeover below the cut ↓ ↓ ↓

In game, this makeover was inspired by a want to change her life for the better, starting small by changing something easy and inconsequential, like her appearance. She felt nervous about changing, because she felt so comfortable with her old look, but she needed to take a step out of her comfort zone to move forward and she felt this was the best way to start. For her, the biggest step out was cutting her hair. Before this, her hair was down to her lower back, and she had had it that way for many years. She found comfort in the routine of caring for her hair, especially braiding it, as it was methodical and tactile. So, to do something that breaks her out of that routine is definitely jarring, but also necessary. She was nervous at first to do it, but she loves the look and is very happy about the both literal and metaphorical weight it took off of her shoulders. Also, I'm a big old slut for a good symbol and I love the idea of her cutting her hair short, symbolising the shedding of the past, starting with something fresh and new that was completely her choice and not either someone else's choice or the result of circumstance. She also just really looks great with a pixie cut so there's that too lol.

The clothes were less of a shock, as she had already been making moves towards dressing more femininely for some time. At home, she tended to keep her dress pretty casual and neutral, as she used to work on a farm, but now that she's out in the world, she wanted to expand her wardrobe a bit. She always liked feminine clothing but still felt nervous about wearing it, especially if it was something flashy or that would call attention to her. This dress isn't necessarily either of those things, but it is something different for her. Femininity, for her, was generally saved for special occasions, like events or dates, but this is her everyday look (cause she's an anime character and doesn't change clothes lmao). It's little steps like this that she's hoping will help her feel okay with making more important steps forward in her life. It's okay for change to happen, and for the first time in her life, she's glad to feel in charge of that changing.

The look itself is inspired by a number of different things from her game. The colors of her dress are the colors of her goddess, with feathers and fire also being a symbol of her Lady. The flower crown is an element of her druidic side, which she doesn't want to lose in this new embracing of her cleric side, so she has the permanent, metal crown. The bangles are a gift from her girlfriend, who had received them from her father as a symbol of devotion (her GF still has more of her own lol).

My favorite element of this is the fire rings on her horns, which actually have a minor enchantment on them. Part of this change for Saube was being more honest about her emotions, opening up more and knowing when to ask for help, and these little rings are gonna help out with that. Essentially, they're mood rings! They are constantly glowing and the fire will change and flicker different colors based on her emotions and how strong the emotion is. Real excited to play with those.

[chaos-burst]

[ID: two digital drawings of Morel, an original D&D character, on differently colored backgrounds, drawn by @paladinbaby. They’re a firbolg with brown fur and long, floppy ears. Morel has bovine features and short, curly, black hair with mushrooms growing out of their head like a flower crown made of mushrooms. The mushrooms are small and pink, blue and green. Morel’s ears are pierced and they’re wearing a black blouse with a high and frilly neckline, a grey cravat and a necklace made of bones. They’re looking towards the right side of the picture. The background on the left is light blue, the one on the right is dark green. End ID] 

my 20 wisdom/8 charisma hermit goth cow who lives in a hut in the woods and is a prophet of the deity of decay. they’re a spores druid/knowledge domain cleric and have recently moved in with their girlfriend and her daughter <333 they’re providing free healthcare for anyone who needs it and i love them dearly

[m-siecle]

What to wear to feel like a dnd character:

Ranger: flat boots

Paladin: bulky sweaters

Bard: indecent shirt

Fighter: proper, resilient, jeans and/or tanktop

Rogue: anything stretchy

Cleric: something with a nice neckline

Druid: a leather bag of some sort

Monk: the oldest t-shirt in your closet

Sorcerer: cargo pants, but you have to fill your pockets with lizards and fireworks

Warlock: anything that has unnecessary windows

Wizard: heelys

Barbarian: a vest, but with nothing underneath

[rolllingthunderr]

UkaTake Unexpected d&d fluff | 1.6K words | SFW

tw: drinking //

-

“Well, this is unexpected?” Takeda stops in the doorway, smile threatening to take over his face and he puts a hand over his mouth to hide it as Ukai turns and frowns from where he’s sitting behind the DM screen.

Ukai leans back to smile softly at him, like he always did whenever he caught sight of him, something Takeda would never get over, before catching up with what he said and frowns. “Shaddup. Are you playing or what?”

“Yeah, we’re missing a few people.” Makoto smiles from where he’s sitting at the end of their kitchen table, paper and dice spread out before him with Takinoue in much the same arrangement beside him. “We need a healer.”

“Is this what you were sending me links for this morning?” He turns to Ukai, grinning as he watches him pull out a few character sheets and dice sets.

“Yeah. We don’t get many opportunities to play. How long’s this campaign been running Tak?”

“Two years I think?”

“Well i’ll happily join if you give me a few minutes to change. I may be a little rusty though. I haven’t played in years.” Before going to change he leans forward to kiss the top of his partner's head, smiling when Ukai sits up straight to lean his head back so he can kiss him properly.

“Hurry up. I’ll get you a drink. Whadda ya want?”

“That weird beer you got in, give me a few minutes.” He’s quick to change and go back into the kitchen, sitting in the chair that’s closest to Ukai which had apparently already been set up with a character sheet and dice.

“Cleric huh?” He takes a look over it. The class and level had already been set up, as well as prepared spells, but everything else was left blank so he quickly fills it in, using the memories from when he last played a cleric to create his character now as quickly as he can.

“Here Ittetsu.” Ukai comes back, passing him the beer with a kiss to his temple as he sits down, putting the other snacks he bought in towards the middle of the table.

“Thanks Kei.” Absently, he winds their legs together under the table as he sorts himself out while Makoto and Takinoue fill him in on the basics of the campaign.

“So we started out as mercenaries, but we sort of joined a plot to kill the king and that’s our focus on the minute.” Makoto explains. “We’re currently trying to break in the castle so we like, find you in the stables or something.”

“Sounds good.” He smiles as Ukai reaches under the table to grab his legs and pull his feet into his lap. Pushing over a packet of his favourite sweets as he does so, acting nonchalant about it although the tips of his ears are red.

Shifting so he’s comfortable and ignoring the eye rolls from their friends at their domesticity, Takeda settles in properly. “Alright, let’s get this started then.”

-

It takes all of twenty minutes before the apparent serious mood turns goofy, and Takeda leans into it heavily.

He’d forgotten how much he loved this game, and the customers at work had been particularly mean that day. He wished his teacher's salary stretched so he didn’t have to work through the summer but he did what he had to. It just meant he was all too ready to let off some steam now anyway.

“What do you mean I can’t flirt with the DM to get advantage?” He asks, pouting in the way he knows will get Ukai to flush, which causes Makato and Takinoue to giggle into their drinks.

“That’s not how it works babe.” Ukai sighs, but he’s very obviously trying to hide his grin.

“You’re the dm, you say what goes!”

“Exactly!” Takinoue leans forward, gesturing with his bottle. “We need advantage on that persuasion check c’mon please.”

“Okay if you ask i’m definitely gonna say no.” He growls, pointing right back.

“Shut up Tak.” Makoto hisses and Takeda can’t help but laugh at them. One of the good things about originally getting to know Ukai had been the friends who had followed him into their friendship. He had always been a little too awkward and earnest to make his own friends past being acquaintances. But Ukai hadn’t minded one bit and apparently, neither did his friends. And they were his friends too now.

“Yeah Tak.” He smirks, before turning the smirk to Ukai who averts his eyes.

“That’s not gonna work either.”

“Fine fine. Let me roll.” He gives it up, but he doesn’t miss the way Ukai squeezes his ankle. Maybe an apology, but it’s more likely a ‘hah’ at not giving in to his puppy eyes.

“Okay that’s a ten?” He grimaces given how low it was even with him adding everything to it.

Another squeeze. “Surprisingly, you come up against a particularly stupid guard and he lets you in without question.”

“Then i’m gonna kill him to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere!” Makoto slams the table, feral gleam in his eye that’s mirrored by all of them.

“Then roll for initiative.”

-

They end the night late and tipsy. And with plans to continue the next week given they had ended the session by being caught and thrown into the castle dungeons.

“Bye!” Takeda calls from under Ukai’s arm as they stand in the doorway. Waving Makoto and Takinoue off as they head home.

Once they’re out of sight they close the door and Ukai lets go, sighing as he looks at the messy table they’d left in their wake.

“Think we can leave it ‘till tomorrow?” He asks and Takeda nods, following to wrap his arms around Ukai’s waist from behind, burying his face in his shoulder blades.

“I mean, i’ve got the day off. I can do it whenever I get up.”

“Fuck I love you.” Ukai grins, turning around. Takeda just smiles back until he squeaks when unexpectedly Ukai reaches down to grab his thighs, hoisting him up. All he can do is wrap his legs around his waist and arms around his neck, laughing.

“What are you doing? I’m heavy c’mon-”

“I carry boxes of stock heavier than you babe.” Takeda can feel himself blushing and he buries his face in the crook of Ukai’s neck, grinning against the skin there before nosing it. Just to hear him sigh happily as he carries him carefully through their apartment.

He was secretly a sap. Or well, it was more a badly kept secret over an actual secret.

“Love you.” He nuzzles in. A little loose from the booze and he wiggles in Ukai’s grip, to feel his hands shift to settle him properly, and then while he’s there cop a feel of his ass which gets him laughing.

“You tryin’ to feel me up?” He pulls back, laughing even harder when Ukai drops him onto the bed, leaning over him as he kneels between his legs before lying heavily down.

It’s a weight Takeda loves, and he wraps his legs a little more firmly around his partner to keep him there as Ukai smirks down at him. He rests his elbows either side of Takeda’s head, leaning heavily down as he kisses him. Slow and open mouthed, completely sloppy.

Gross bastard. He really loved him

“Always babe.” Ukai grins in between kisses, one hand absently going to run through the strands of Takeda’s hair he can reach. Wrist bent a little awkwardly.

He reaches up to take the headband out of Ukai’s hair, chuckling when his hair falls into disarray around his face, strands falling over his face. He throws the hairband aside, hands going to play with it and spike it up before letting it all again, scratching his nails along Ukai’s scalp in the way he knows he likes.

“Hmm, you need to dye your roots again Kei.” He tugs at one of the strands, laughing when Ukai just licks a stripe up his face in indignant response. He goes to say something else, tease ready but the comment leaves his brain when Ukai starts kissing down his neck. He starts at his jaw, closed mouth kisses progressing to licks and then sharp nips the further down his neck he goes. Sucking hickies into the skin below the neckline of his shirt where the only people who could see the marks were them.

“So, what did you think about the game?” Ukai asks when he stops, resting his chin on Takeda’s chest and Takeda can’t help but burst into laughter.

“You’re asking me that now?” He giggles, tucking Ukai’s hair behind his ears. “Nerd.”

“Says you, Mr Teacher.”

“I’m not the one who brings up dnd in the middle of a make out session.”

“Oh shut up we’re not kids, c’mon.” Ukai whines. “At least call it somethin’ sexier.”

“No can do. You like me for my awkward charm.”

“Love you.” Ukai corrects without even thinking about it, and Takeda instantly blushes so hard he has to cover his face.

“Love you too.” He mutters. Unable to move his hands.

Gently, Ukai moves his hands out the way to kiss him and take his glasses off. Reaching over to them on their bedside table, and Takeda whines at the loss of him. He’s too tired and tipsy to really have a filter so he reaches out without thinking. Flushing again and hiding his face when Ukai turns to face him again, smirking down at him before that breaks into a soft grin. Resettling himself in between Takeda’s legs. Shifting comfortably as he rests his arm back where they were.

“Fucking nerd.”

“Shut up.” He leans up to kiss him once again, and settles in for the night.

[matteblackstars]

Nicholas x Tentacles : For Research

as requested by @catastrophicur fantasy verse + DP / sounding / throat fuckin’ / yes he’s a virgin / no its not written well, you know what, just keep walking, don’t look here

           Nicholas scampered down the halls with the type of excitement that had nearly everyone he passed looking nervously behind. Short cleric navigated past clergy with ease, slipping between droves of prayer walks that ended in disapproving scowls and heads shaking in disappointment. Not that he noticed, because he got the aFTernOOn oFF~ For research. Which terrified everyone. 

          Due to prior mishaps in the dorms, Nicholas was given his own room well away from the rest of the populace just in case he summoned another undead bear or 30ft snake that he still couldn’t find or the time when gravity reversed itself in the mess hall or-- needless to say, when half the clerics came down with a curse that made them dance nearly to death and the other half frozen in time reliving their trauma in a void-like hellscape, he was banished asked to move his studies far far away and to notify the higher ups when he was going to be doing something potentially dismal so they could avoid it. 

          So when the final piece of his spell finally arrived in the mail, he was beside himself running through the gardens to get to the abandoned wing of the church where he had been allowed to make camp. Dreary and a bit dusty, the large heavy door requires small thing’s whole body to push against and when he finally slips through, it opens up into a massive study. Books covered the walls and laid in haphazard stacks along the floor, papers spilling with ancient languages and symbols, candles and floating colorful orbs illuminating intricate gold writings, bones, potions, skulls, vials, gems, taxidermy rabbit, a mobile of the solar system, a mobile of a different solar system -- everywhere one looked there was something new and potentially dangerous lurking about. 

          His desk held a multitude of messy papers and ink pots filled with ink that shifted colors (one that looks suspiciously like blood), and a single thick heavy book. It was the same size if not wider than the cleric himself and it takes a strained heave to lift the cover before fingers rushed to find a particular page.           There.            It only takes him minutes to shuffle about his room, moving stacks of things out of the way to clear space on the floor and hunting down the bits and pieces of spell components that involved ink, a single bit of bone, chalk, and whatever else. The item he had been waiting for came in the shape of a small crystal pendant. Some easily made magicked trinket that produced as manny mirrors as the holder desired in any shape or size. The spell had a tiny hand written note on the side that strongly suggested its use and Nicholas wasn’t entirely sure why or how this aided in the spell, but mirrors had their own magical properties that he’d mentally note to delve into. Tall and rectangular, he follows the note’s directions until the space he’s made is surrounded by them floating delicately at the perimeter with gaps enough he can slip through. He takes a moment to proudly smile at himself in the corner of one and then another few minutes to apprehensively stare at the complicated chalk circle he’s made on the floor, wondering if it was... too big. He wanted to summon tentacles, not the whole tentacle monster. Or did he??

          There was a moment of doubt after everything was set up, last thing needed was the single drop of blood and ink to circle’s center, when his own eyes catch himself in a reflection.            “Am I being too nasty for this?”           Reflection shakes its head, of course not. It’s for fun. For research!            “Getting a handy by a tentacle for... research?”           You’re testing old magic that just happens to have the use of a few wiggly arms.            “And if it doesn’t listen...?”           Reflection chants back at him for research! for research! before short human is thoroughly convinced. For research. 

          Ink and blood fall with a deafening plop to its center, sleeves of thickly layered robes pushed up as far as they can so pale palms could press into the floor at circle’s sides, feeling the magic pulsate through limbs until incantation leaves the room silent. Chalk glows warmly, then dies out. The creaking groans of the walls and wood floor halting and little thing blinks, candle light flickering making the shadows dance and for a moment -- nothing happens. “WHAT” Disappointed bark has Nicholas flopping backwards and then forwards again to peer into the spell circle, sniffing bottle of ink and blood, wondering if it was his blood needed and-- well, that would make sense. Lips purse together, but the prick to his finger and the added dot of red leaves him full of expectation and.... noth-- oh?

          Leaning close, he can see movement, like a plant breaking its way through the surface of the earth, a single blackish-red tendril wiggles its way through. Arms shoot up with an excited YES, gaze bolting about as if someone would be there to congratulate him on his small success before immediately leaning down closer with words of encouragement. Maybe it was shy? Weak? It’s ok bb, Nicholas is here~ “There there little guy, come on, coooome on~” Chuckle brightens his face, completely forgetting the whole intent of bringing this thing out, and more focused on the fact that it was tiny and absolutely adorable. It wiggles nervously, then confidently, growing in size until finally Nicholas is sitting up and staring at it face to face. It’s inky looking and curious touch tells him it’s slimy but even that’s just clear with an almost oil-slick like sheen. 

          “Oh the staff at the cleaning staff would hate this--ACK??” Something touched his face! Head snaps around and in the reflected circle of the mirror is another tentacle, breaching its way through with curious intent toward summoner. Then another- and another-- “oh. Oh no, that’s too many--” Even in the circle before him do more start pulling themselves through, shapes and sizes varying as thin ones twisted about thicker bases, others nearing with clear intent to grab and-- “OOoooohkay, nope, we’re just going to just, stop all this. Do you understand me?” It’s definitely more of a nervous plead than a command. “I’m gonna need your friends to just... go back to-” Since when was there one wrapped around his ankle? And lord they were strong--

          “Hahaha-- ok ok, time to stop guys-- no-- no, don’t grab the other ankle, nooOOOoo-- I meAN IT--” The nervous panic was starting to set in as they took hold of each ankle that ignored his petty attempts at tearing them off and instead yanked legs apart with a loud yelp. The more he struggled, the more they seemed set on restraining him with their smooth heavy limbs, and even though feet kicked in an attempt to crawl backwards, his back smacked into the front of sturdy mirror that acted more like a wall caging him inside. Oil-slick slimy tentacles reaching from the mirror took their chance to drape over shoulders and slip into his neckline causing goosebumps across his skin. W-wait-- hey-- no no nO -- but the moment arm raises in protest, strong slick limb grabs his weak wrist, knee jerk reaction had frame twist to undo it, but all it does is make his free wrist captured. With arms now bound and ankles held taught apart, there’s a pause. Nicholas’ face contorted in frustration and then ultimately defeat as next tentacle wiggled across the floor in sly expectation over pants. 

          “F-fine. Fine!” Lips pursed together and things twisted in eager acknowledgement that had Nicholas bickering with it some more. “Oh- OH, So you CAN understand, fine! Just-- nothing too weird.” A mute point when he’s so compromised and a few more inky intruders start to tug and pull at his limbs until lower half is thoroughly spread and smaller constraints touch under clothes to elbow and knee. Another thicker one presses at his cheek approvingly, hugging against his neck in jaw as if that was some form of comfort before bold member slips beneath his pant line. 

          Now short cleric was... “pure”. Physically. Hands have enthusiastically explored himself and he was no stranger to relieving himself of his sexual frustrations, but this was the first time he’d had anyone but himself touch him and it showed. Any babbling he had done just seconds before cut themselves short and heart rate rises as warm limb grazed against him, sliding over balls and taint, between cheeks to come out the other side and wedge pants down just enough until butt sat on he chill floor and growing erection exposed if upper layers weren’t messily covering him. Something about not seeing what was happening only made everything more exciting, more nerve wracking as more eased their way beneath fabric to taste and squeeze gently over sensitive skin. 

          Anticipation and tinge of embarrassment has dark haired thing squirming with a single tentacle that wrapped around the base of him, easing itself upwards and back down again with ease. Then it moves a bit faster, others curling over sack with equally comforting tug, and it doesn’t take much for cleric to start breathing heavy against the limb that still licked at his cheek or try to hide behind elbows that were being raised ever higher by captors. It’s not until the smaller ones start writhing their way over the thick boys do things get overwhelming. 

          A long thin tip searches over penis head until it finds small slit to slowly wiggle into; gentle and curious, it presses in, waiting for any protest, and then out, repeating but going deeper while it joins brothers about the shaft, squeezing and releasing in an upward pulsing motion that has his legs trembling. It feels weird, tingling, and he has little control over how hips jerk desperately for escape or the friction at his wrists as tentacles tighten their grip there and at his ankles. Panting moans verge to the point of barely muffled whining, voice pitching and cracking with every wiggle as foreign limb slowly fucked itself into him. Another slithery blackish limb slid across pale thigh staying close to the crease of his leg before wrapping underneath his clothes possessively at his waist. Heat was pooling at the pit of his stomach with legs desperate to slam together, knees trembling as boiling point started to to get near. Panicked chest rising and falling, whatever this thing was, it realized he was getting close and started to move faster, wet suction growing stronger, and all too intrusive tip no longer leaving the hole it occupied, pumping with a dangerous speed that has Nicholas crying. 

          “Out-- Take it out-- Take it outtakeitoutplease-- PLEASE!!” Toes curled as he begged, overwhelmed tears welling up in the corner of his eyes before words are too complicated to say and tentacle slips out just as it gave conclusive squeeze and burst of cum decorated his stomach and thigh. Body jolts into silence that he’s finally granted release from his torture save for the echoed whine and pathetic needy whimpers that follow. Oh gross gross gross--! Shame is the first emotion to wash over him, embarrassment the next, and a tinge of fear-- why did that make him cum so hard?? Restraints give small cleric some slack and a welcomed relief as he tries to collect himself and palms smack tiredly against the floor. Head falls back against the mirror, hand resting on his chest with the realization that he’s been freed. Peace!! Peace at last -- mind evaluates himself and curious tug pulls clothes from over himself just to see the mess he’s left and that his dick was fine. Oh thank god. This relief last if only for a moment. 

          Single inky tendril slides sneakily towards his hip, feeling the air, attempting to take small tastes of his skin that Nicholas lazily tries to shoo away. Which was apparently the Wrong Thing To Do.

          The show of weakness has the same limb thick and strong, snatch at fragile waist, yanking him downwards onto his back with a hard thud. There was no time to yelp because the moment he does, mouth is occupied. Fat and heavy, slimy member forces its way to the back of his throat, excited by impulsive need for human to swallow and tighten around it. It’s patient enough to wait for Nicholas to stop struggling, a minute before he starts to breathe through his nose and then it moves, languidly pressing in hoping to feel the velvety vibrations of fragile mortal’s moans which would come soon enough. Beast, monster, demon -- thing doesn’t bother restraining arms (not that they weren’t eagerly feeling over their hopeless attempts to escape) because its focus was too busy working complicated layers of clothes to get at the softer fleshy bits. For Nicholas, it was hard to fight back when his attention was at his mouth trying to breathe, muffled protesting shouts dying off, and tongue curling instinctively about its surprisingly warm weight. Thoughts were a buzz and buzzing faster when he feels protective clothes leave him and holy garb torn to make way to his chest. He’s not sure if he’s completely bare, it wouldn’t have mattered now that pale skin was easy to mark and already was starting to turn pink in the places where tentacles had clung and sucked onto. 

          A multitude of thicker limbs caressed over him, feeling at the highs and lows of bone and muscle, and with nippled exposed, smaller mandibles slithered their way to dance and play with them. It doesn’t take long for distressed breathing to slow, acceptance as refractory period was rushed to a close, and soft muted moan surprised even him. He liked this -- sharp flick against his chest has him pressing his legs together, messy thighs sliding against each other while he takes what’s in his mouth a tad bit deeper. If he could swear he would, wondering if it was the lack of control or the feeling of captured prey that had him creeping up on next sinful sound.

          The tentacle at his waist smoothed underneath his back, lifting it to a small arch that Nicholas readily complied with, but he nearly chokes when lower half is flipped skyward. Thing must have sensed his tension and distraction came in the form of a strong thrust into his throat, a bit faster, a bit harder, then slowing down once the hands desperately hugged at the thing eased. Hands tried to grab for something else, something easier only to messily catch hold of the multitude of other tentacles that seemed to be joining to fray, curling around his legs that now hung over him. The embarrassment he felt before? Gone. Occasionally legs twitched and kicked, only to be haphazardly restrained while mandibles inched ever so dangerously close to the place no one has been in. Not that thing cared, it was busy coiling back over his hardening shaft, squeezing at balls and -- ok the embarrassments back when he’s hard again. Mind stimulated to a degree that was near overwhelming. 

          First to make curious prod is small, winding wet and slippery between exposed spread cheeks to tease at virgin hole, testing the waters and feeling his heart rate anxiously rise until breaching inward. Whimpered cry catches in his throat and once again legs try to right themselves with struggled jerk, back and behind wiggling in protest done more out of habit than need, but thick vice around his waist tightened and its tip pressed at his lower back so he was more firmly held in place. The one at his ass slid ever deeper, rhythmically pulsing at the edge, growing ever bigger the easier it was to stretch him wider, until it was finally built up enough to be fucking into him with wave-like motion that had little thing lightly bounding against the ground. 

          He’s melting into the floor moaning with little conscious need to hold back confused pitched sounds, every synapse bursting in strange new position when suddenly he tastes air. Deep breath gives way to shuddering sigh, tongue licking at wetted lips that had odd mix of saliva and mystery coating that had the faintest taste of magic to it and bleary eyes glance upwards to see the size of what was in his mouth now hungrily fall over tentacle-caged erection and taint to--

          “NO. HnGNGgghH-- W-Wait-- No-- I-- I can’t--ah-ah-aHW-Wait--” whether thing could understand him or not, pleading fell on deaf ears and tip was already wiggling and nudging around hole that was still occupied by far smaller guest that started to move slower, a bit deeper so that thick one could more easily lick at edges, pressing experimentally until finally it gave way. Clearly excited, it wasted no time trying to push deeper, twisting sloppy and moist around partner that squirmed eagerly inside of him.

          “AhhHHHhnNNN!!” Nicholas immediately became unabashedly loud. It didn’t hurt, not in the slightest, event as fat member stretched him far beyond the limits he thought was capable, both fucked into him with opposite momentums leaving him a mewling wreck, calling for names he’d only heard in dreams. it wasn’t nearly as nice to him this time around, the multitude of tentacles wrapped about his dick squeezing just hard enough that it wouldn’t let him cum as the two continued to move faster. The fullness was tantalizingly thrilling, he’d never felt this way even with what little toys he could get and he’s gotten so noisy with every rushed pant that left his sweat stained against the floor. The closer he gets, the more it tries to restrain him; wrists against the wood by his shoulders, one even found purchase at his neck, pushing chin upward so his unbelievably lewd cries have no where to go but echo off the walls of the room. For a minute, he even catches a glimpse of himself entangled in multicolored arms that all moved with eerie fluidity into him and he knows it’s him because when he opens his mouth, it does too and-- god he looks so obscene-- but so-- good---

          Back arches with ready anticipation of what’s to come, a needy moan as one of the tentacles manages to brush against the spot that made Nicholas want to end it all and the smaller stopping its thrusting in favor of focusing meager attention on sliding against it while larger continued to pump in tandem with his breath. Teeth bite hard into his lip and he almost wished he could dig his nails into a person, but that sentiment is short lived when nipple is pinched and that familiar searing heat started to boil. He can’t hold back, he can’t -- he can’t--! It was too much! This was too much -- He can’t-- “I can’t--!!” Red flushed body burns and he’s slick with his own sweat and cum, tipping over the edge again with violent cry that shakes him to his core. Tentacles thrust hard and deep, the small bulge against his stomach visible if it weren’t for his release that fell hotly across chest and face. 

          Vision falls away and the tension he had held now released, leaves small thing empty and used. The things inside him twist and turn comfortably, lazily easing their way out while his waist is lowered back into the floor with a gentle thump. The others leave just as slow, taking their time over glistening body, licking across his neck and cheek where pearly white globs were smeared towards his mouth as they passed by before disappearing back into the floor, mirrors or... wherever they had come from. 

          So there he was left, breathless and disarray, clothes littered and torn, holy garb staring at him shamefully while he weakly sat himself up to survey the damage done. Covered in marks, ‘hickies’, bruises, sweat, oily substance, and cum, lower back tingling and feeling empty after having his insides just jumbled about; Nicholas quietly shuffled across the floor over mirrored circle to where the spell book lay, symbols and words still vivid across the page and he... tears it out. 

          He was going to keep this one for himself. For later.            For research. 

[windermeresimblr]

Medieval Paper Dolls: Early Medieval Period

Welcome back! Last week, we left Alun and Joyeuse in their underwear.  Now, we’re taking a trip just slightly further back in time...to the early medieval period. (Although these outfits could work for very, very late and provincial Antiquity, and for less fashion-forward people in the High Middle Ages or perhaps Byzantium, but we’ll get to that in some future update...)

Between the fall of the Western Roman Empire and 1000, the common garment throughout Europe, transcending gender, social class, and even cleric versus laity, was a tunic. The tunic was a holdover from the Roman period, and its knee length made it a popular choice for those who worked in the fields or otherwise needed freedom of movement. Boots were the most common footwear, although simple flat shoes--also known as turnshoes--were equally common. 

Wealthier (or simply less active and higher-status) men tended to wear longer tunics, and their hemlines could be from mid-calf to the floor. I paired turnshoes with Alun’s long tunic because I felt it looked nicer than the boots did; boots could be, and were, worn with long tunics. Especially if the weather called for it; after all, the “Dark Ages” didn’t have very many functioning hypocausts. 

No matter the social class, a man’s outfit was topped with a cape. The fabric and lining, as well as the presence and quality of fur, depended on the social class and funds of the wearer, the context the cape was worn in, and (of course) the weather. Shorter capes were worn by those who needed freedom of movement or who couldn’t afford a good long cape. Regional styles of how capes were worn existed; for example, the Franks preferred long capes if at all possible.

Longer capes were worn for extra warmth, or to display the amount of money one could afford to spend on a cape. Especially if it’s made of costly fabric, or lined with fur. 

Women’s tunics were at the very minimum ankle-length; working women needed to avoid tangling their skirts in the plow, after all. Long sleeves were very popular, although sleeve fullness was dependent on social class. After all, Goody Joyeuse needs to be able to wash the dishes without ruining her clothes, while Lady Joyeuse doesn’t do anything more straining than embroidery.

Noble women were able to wear much more impractical tunics, although floor-puddling skirts were reserved for the very wealthy. As with the male half, quantity and quality of fabric and richness of dye were what separated the ladies from the commoners. Applied trims could also differentiate between Lady Joyeuse, Duchess Joyeuse, and Goody Joyeuse; however, these were usually tablet-woven bands. Lace hadn’t come into its own as a garment trim just yet.

In certain areas, a “coat dress” was worn over the tunic; this seemed to be most popular in Frankish territories, among the Alemanni and Bavarii, and (surprisingly enough) in East Kent. The brooches’ quality depended on the status of the wearer, of course. (A side note--tunics throughout the medieval world, like the chemises beneath them, had keyhole necklines for ease of nursing; these were closed with either drawstrings, brooches, or pins.)

Of course, adult women were expected, if not required, to cover their hair in order to be considered modest. This is where wimples began to emerge, although they weren’t as fancy as they became later in the medieval period. Instead, they were often depicted as one or more pieces of fabric simply wrapped and pinned around the wearer’s head and neck, rather similar to a hijab.

Other options included kerchiefs, headwraps, and caps. The amount of hair covered, and the rules for which women wore what sort of headcovering and when, varied from location to location. 

When in doubt, pin your hair up and throw on a simple veil, and hope the Sims from the SCA aren’t looking too closely at your choice in headgear. (Or Goody Crumplebottom.)

Now, go do some shopping! 

Alun’s “Tunic” Top: @danjaley

Alun’s “Tunic” Bottom: The Sims 3 Store

Alun’s Boots: @shokoninio​

Alun’s Short Cape: Happy Life Sims

Alun’s Long Tunic: @danjaley, although I edited it to be everyday wear.

Alun’s Long Cape: Astraea Nevermore

Alun is wearing the University Life “Toms” shoes beneath his long robe. 

Joyeuse’s Tunic: The Merrye Makers

Joyeuse’s Second Tunic: Taurona

Joyeuse’s Coat Dress: The Sims 3 Store, but I use this maternity edit.

Joyeuse’s “Under-Tunic”: Daluved1

Joyeuse’s First Wimple: @procrasimnation

Joyeuse’s Second Wimple: @carversims

Joyeuse’s Veil: Venus Princess

Joyeuse is wearing the University Life “Toms” shoes for all of her outfits.

Pose from @danjaley​‘s “Arranged Wedding” set.

[sasskarian]

WIP Wednesday*

(*except it’s Monday and half a week later because 2020 is shit, time has no meaning, and we’re all a bit frazzled by the neighborhood fire a few days ago)

I was tagged by my dearest friend @asaara-writes (thank you! <3)! Tagging forwarded to @shetanshadowwolf @thebisexualmandalorian @theherocomplex @athreehundredthirtythree and whoever else wants to chime in, no pressure as always. 

I’ve been bouncing a bit between Glitterverse and Fallout 4, so I’ll put a bit of both down!

Wasteland, Baby

Evie hears the tell-tale hiss of power armor outside the door and resists the urge to smooth a hand over her dress. It’s been years since she’s worn anything like this, even before the Vault: most of her court cases had been won in suits, and her pregnancy was a long blur of worn out cotton tees and several stolen pairs of Nate’s sweats. Without a word, even without the Sight-enhancing drugs, Mama Murphy had breezed in last week, smiling as she handed Evie this and breezed back out. 

Nick— the only person to see it— gave her a wolf-whistle when she held it up, citing the drape of lace sweeping from the shoulders down the back as “knock ‘em out hot.” It curls around her throat before fluttering down over a fitted neckline to make a keyhole effect (which, of course, she imagines Hancock having a ball making innuendo over), and the hem sits high enough on her thigh to make her nervous. 

Danse doesn’t bother knocking anymore, but she knows the moment he crosses her threshold: the air around her zings, shot through with electricity and tension only enhanced by his harsh inhale. And like that, Evie can shove her nerves down to a quieter range. She turns to face him, pleased by the flush of his cheeks as he sweeps his eyes over her. Danse’s hands fall limp to his sides and he clears his throat, blushing again. 

“I, uh, didn’t know we were dressing for the occasion,” he says, sheepishly.

Glitterverse

Weak, gray Kirkwall light splashed on Cassandra’s face, bright enough that she dragged herself from sleep with reluctance. She grumbled and shoved an arm over her eyes, listening to the deep, not-quite-on-key humming from her left; she didn’t bother looking yet, already knowing what she’d see. Varric would be standing in the stingy little bathroom, peering into the flickering light with the mirror tilted down. There’d be shaving cream smoothed up his cheeks, with a few damp curls inevitably cutting a path through it, and he’d inevitably miss a small spot just in front of his ear that she’d have to look at all day. 

The woodsy, almost peaty smell of his soap curled through the room, drifting over her nose like a temptress. In a moment of weakness, her heart fluttered; there was something terrifyingly sensual about the smell of someone else’s soap drifting through your residence, comforting and intimate and all too familiar, and it had been a long time since anyone had gotten this close to her carefully-guarded life. 

This was bullshit, she thought, trying to summon any emotion except exhaustion. Two days since escaping that nightmare dungeon, two days since the writer had slid small, golden spectacles on the end of his nose and dug right down into her files. Some small part of her resented that, how easily he stuck his fingers into her ribcage and pried out her scar-tissue heart, as if it were no more of a challenge than the wallets he’d lifted in his youth. But more and more, despite the strange morning routine that was too intimate, too smothering, too… Varric, she was almost glad to have someone to share the burden with. 

Not that she’d admit that to him, of course. The ground she stood on was already boggy, and there was no need to start actively wielding a shovel at it. And no matter how anyone pried, the truth that she’d grown used to his constant presence would fall from her mouth, hit her Cleric’s ear, and go straight to the Maker. Any remnant of that shameful admission would be taken to her grave and nowhere else.