Sornin x Halsin

Sornin x Astarion kisses.

1. Join Sornin. 2. Maybe we should take things slow. 3. I've changed my mind. 4. Are all drow so ugly? (why would you choose this!? >: ) 

Sorning, my OC from BG3, and his romance scene :P

// @call-2-arms continued from here

Ah. Lothsworn. So naturally his comment made the druid before him think they were something alike. There was an understanding that the mere masses upon the surface could scarily understand.

"My kind? Ah. I suppose that is what one thinks when they believe they are on top of the chain. But it is in my experience, it is easier to pull a chain down than up. The mouse often feasts on the fur."

The barbarian looked out at the road before them, "Besides if compassion is so weak, why is it so hard for so many to practice?"

What the heck man

@lolthswcrn continued from here:

It had been a bad idea, without knowing what the weather on the surface would be like. He had had a moment to escape, though, to crawl his way on eight legs out through the nook that saw the moonlight. But the sky had been filled with clouds and thunder, and heavy rain had poured down over a hairy thorax.

Sornin knew that he should have fled the instant he'd smelled the rain, but by the gods, the moments he could escape the Underdark were fleeting, and he'd run the risk.

Unfortunately, when he'd shifted back, he'd been soaked to the bone, water covering his skin as he made it back to where he'd left his clothes so he could pick them back up. As dry as they were, Sornin's hair was dripping, and he'd had to dry it the best he could with his shirt.

When he'd been tying his hair back, he saw a familiar set of pearly eyes, which made him startle. Tareque was too light on his feet--if he were using them...

"Gods," he muttered, frowning to himself. It was fine, he could lie, until the lich was on him, smelling what lingered from outside. He could have said that it was the moisture from the stalactites that dripped from the cave rooves, but there was no denying that earthly smell that rain had to it, strong and pungent against his skin and soaked into his hair.

He could feel the other man's dead, cold presence, unnatural as it were. "Do you not understand personal space?" he growled.

As it so happened, the lich hadn't been on his own two feet during his approach. He made a subtle gesture with his hand, drying Sornin's hair in the process as he watched the man in thought. While Tareque hadn't met many drow, save for the priestesses and those of his usual clientele, Sornin was still unlike those he had previously encountered. He couldn't yet place a finger on why, and that was precisely what he strove to discover.

"Yes," he answered, simply. He knew well what the concept of personal space was. It was merely his own choice to ignore it. "Do you not understand the insatiable requirement to remain in the proximity of other individuals to maintain one's sanity and sense of being?" It was a rhetorical question. He sincerely doubted Sornin knew the construct of lichdom, (as most wouldn't.)

Tareque waved a hand, dismissing that topic of conversation before it even began. He had a more important question on his mind. "Why do you creep so secretly? What you are, is this something not seen respectably by your kin?"

Even he would admit that he wasn't as privy to the constructs of drow society compared to other branches of elven lineage. The basics, yes, but some of the moral and dogma were lost upon him. All he could hope for was that his inquiry didn't offend Sornin in some way.

scottpaskstudio: Thank you so much Madison Cox for the most extraordinary afternoon at the incredible @myslmarrakech and the jaw-dropping gardens & Jacques Majorelle/Bill Willis/YSL Pierre Berge designed Villa Oasis @jardinmajorellemarrakech. Thank you @ darrencriss ! Our view into this incomparable oasis, it’s history, and each stunningly designed space was truly extraordinary.

1-Walking into the garden

2-Entry to the museum- & YSL/Pierre Berge’s first Art purchase together

3-that stunning Majorelle blue

4-Darren, Will & I on the terrace of Villa Oasis

5-hey fountain! You look good on this 110 degree day!

6-this pool - surrounding a Bill Willis pavilion commissioned by YSL & Pierre Berge -looks even better!

7-pavilion interior at Villa Oasis by renowned designer Bill Willis

8-Darren psyched to see the YSL museum!

9-Le Jardin Majorelle

10-studioko ‘s saturâtes stained glass slots to the entry courtyard at @myslmarrakech

So much gratitude to @alexissornin Marc Jeanson Nadia Chimbo for their hugely insightful tours. Unforgettable !!

.....

#yvessaintlaurent #ysl #madisoncox #pierreberge #majorelle #marrakech #morocco #billwillis #jacquesmajorelle

C11!

art meme || accepting!

He approaches her in spider form, little chitters in her direction as he raises his head. He wants scritches.

Minthara flips the page of the tome she's swiped up from their recent travels into the last abandoned homestead area - pillaged by the wrath of the Absolute. Her tone pressing and pushing on the ground to make her own weight sway as she lounged inside of her personal hammock. Even as she hears the titter of spider legs she turns another page, easily assuming how Sornin had come again for more attention. He swore that it was not him seeking the attention and that it was only the nature of the spider within him, but she had her doubts. But, who was she to argue? It is not like she had experience living as a spider herself to counter that tale. She lifts her book to peer at him settled just outside of her tenet and the Paladin exhales with the thumping shut of the book. "Come on then." And she sets the book into the hammock and allows it to slide into the supporting pillows before she twists her weight and all but rolls out onto her knees.

She settles on her bottom as she gestures him closer with the beckon of her fingers until his head was nearly in her lap before she runs her palm along his pinchers. Then further back to scritch along under his head just behind his fangs. Meanwhile the other hand slides across the top of his head just above his eyes. "If I did not know any better, Sornin, I'd say you are growing quite fond of me."

@lolthswcrn - GETS SCRITCHES!!

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓. ╱ @lolthswcrn

The few days he was forced to live as a vagrant already felt like an eternity, and the company he had found himself in left much to be desired as well. Lorroakan desperately clung to the hope that this druid from the Grove would offer a cure, despite his reason telling him that some... tree-hugging outlander could hardly remove an ALIEN PARASITE from his brain without causing any damage. Or death.

Be that as it may, they had to find him, and Lorroakan had gone out with Sornin to scout ( the drow seemed capable enough in a fight ) when the wheather abruptly changed.

"I beg your pardon?!" He snapped after they found shelter in a cave. His robe was completely drenched, his ginger hair plastered to his skin, and his face contorted with frustration and indignation. "Did you just call me a sorcerer, you troglodyte?!"

There was so much venom in his voice. "And if COULD, do you think we'd still be in this predicament?? Hm??"

The Nature of Love (Simple comme Sylvain), Monia Chokri (2023)

// Astarion's smile is too damn sweet throughout this whole scene oisjdfoisdf

// Random shots of Sornin

A little broody nudy Sornin (My Drow OC)

❝  i sleep with one eye open.  ❞  (from Sornin - my BG3 Tav lol )

The demon spawn looked over at the Drow, Sornin was his name he believed. Not that he was purposefully ignoring the man before him, but everything that has happened in the last, what? 24 or 72 hours had the tiefling still feeling out of sorts.

"Is that not how all drow sleep? Your own mother might kill you for breathing too loudly...to be fair I did kill my mother."

He would leave out the eating parts of her too and the entire possessive demonic rage he had experienced. It was just best he thought he killed her in a more traditional sense...whatever that was for drow. Poison if he had heard correctly.

"Your goddess does not exactly breed compassion does she?"

.🌴