“And I Don’t Think Anybody Should Feel Bad If They Get Diagnosed With A Mental Illness, ’cause

It's 100% his sarcophagus, Emmrich would never do it anywhere else. He has had his own prepared and ready to go for a few years now, just in case, but now he's going to have to purchase an expansion and room for adjoining flower beds.

Imagine being one of Emmrich’s students.

You go back to Treviso to make sure your family is ok and you see your esteemed, mid-50s professor ziplining across the city rooftops like a complete maniac.

He’s jingling like a walking bazaar while he’s ziplining because apparently half of Thedas’s gold is hanging off him, and he’s casually hanging out with one of the deadliest Antivan Crows and some decades-younger absolute snack who is constantly batting their eyelashes at him.

How do you even attend his lecture after that

Reblog this to give a flower to Emmrich Volkarin

Everyone has goth sex hormones it came free with your fucking existence.

GETTEM, MANFRED

Cave of Wonders

Zevlor x Tav, NSFW

Zevlor smiled to himself as he saw the others relax and enjoy their evenings. Alfira strummed idly, giggling with Lakrissa about their personal victories over the goblins and what kind of tale the bard should weave through song. Cal and Lia continued to rib Rolan, who had had perhaps too much wine and was ready to blast his siblings backward, if only to stop their hooting laughter. Bex and Danis snuggled by the fire, petting and whistling to the camp's canine companion, a scruffy white hound named Scratch.

The goblin threat had been eradicated, thanks to an intrepid band of heroic adventurers lead by a human woman names Tavalia. Gods knew there was no one else with the wherewithal to corral the rag-tag team: a Githyank warrior, The Blade of the Frontiers, a secretive cleric, a former archmage, a tiefling attack dog, and a foppish vampire. Zevlor shook his head; how she did it, he couldn't begin to fathom.

As the revelry continued, the tiefling commander took one last sip from his goblet before setting it down. He nodded in farewell to Halsin, the archdruid the adventurers had rescued from the goblin encampment, and made his way back towards the Emerald Grove, away from Tavalia's camp. Zevlor had a few more crates to finish packing before morning, and he could use a moment to himself after all of the noise and merriment of the evening's celebrations.

Zevlor quietly walked through the gate of the Grove and made his way through The Hollow towards the chambers that had been his during the refugees' stay. Rocks crunched under his boots as he strode confidently to his quarters. A few druids were up and about, but the place still felt strangely still after all the chanting had stopped. Kagha had been in league with the Shadow Druids, it had seemed, until Tavalia had talked some sense into her and the interim archdruid put an end to the Rite of Thorns.

He walked through the stone passageway, the door closing behind him. He replenished a few candles before carefully doffing his armor. Gods, but it felt good to have that weight off of his shoulders, literally and figuratively. He stretched and flexed his back, taking pleasure in the little pops and cracks that told the story of a loosening body.

Zevlor let out a soft groan. He found an empty crate and brought it to his desk, where he began to slowly and carefully pack away his many books for the next leg of their journey. The Shadow-Cursed Lands, gods, how was he ever going to -

A gentle rumble of the stone door marked the entry of another. Quickly and quietly, Zevlor set down the book he had been holding and reached for his crossbow, eyes on the entryway to his sanctum. He heard the stone door shut again, and a rustling sounds drew his attention. He deftly loaded the crossbow and positioned himself near an alcove, the perfect spot to lodge an attack should one also be aimed at him.

A shadow grew on the walls in the candlelight, soft and feminine.

"Zevlor?" A tremulous voice called out, the shadow edging closer to the commander's lair.

Zevlor almost dropped the crossbow. "Tavalia?" He asked, shocked and shaken, horrified that he could have so easily pulled the trigger against the hero of the hour had she not made her presence known.

"Yes, it's me. Did I startle you? And please, again, call me Tav. Everyone else does, there's no need to stand on ceremony." She walked slowly into the soft light of the numerous candles Zevlor had lit not but half an hour before.

She was nude, he saw, his mind not comprehending. Or, nearly nude, it appeared that she maintained some cover for the sake of modesty, but only around her hips; her breasts were bared to the world. No, not to the world: bared for him. He shook his head, still confused.

Tav's eyes adjusted to the lighting, scanning the room. When her gaze fell upon him, her lips curled into a smile that reached to her eyes, so happy was she to find him.

His body was in a state of panic, wanting to avert his gaze and drink her in all at once. Why was she here? And nearly naked? She didn't seem hurt or afraid, there should be no reason for this state of undress, unless -

The rustling. She had removed her garments after she had entered his quarters. The confidence made him wet his lips, blood pulsing in his face and below his belt. He could not deny that she was a beautiful woman, that he had not thought of what she might feel like in his arms, soft and warm and spent, but this...

She closed the gap between them, her hands alighting carefully on his shoulders. Her bare feet had been almost soundless in the dirt. She glanced up at him, eyes twinkling with the small flames that lined the room. Tav leaned into Zevlor, her mouth grazing his neck, as she whispered his name against his flesh. Small goose-pimples rose along the back of his neck.

His hands moved to her hips, and he felt them, full and round beneath his touch. Her skin was softer than he could have ever dreamed, and he was suddenly very aware of his talons, hard and sharp at the tips of his fingers. He made to move them away, but she caught him and held him to her. "No," she whispered gently, still nuzzling against his neck. "Please, stay with me. I have imagined this a thousand times, and yet nothing could compare to the here and now." The tip of her tongue delicately traced the muscles in his neck, and his breath caught in his throat.

"Tavalia, please, do not misunderstand me. You are a very beautiful woman, but I am nothing but an old, disgraced paladin. Surely there are others far more worthy to share your bed than the likes of me?"

She hummed quietly, her nose gently caressing the underside of his jaw, the hand that once held his now at his cheek. Her thumb carefully followed the ridge pattern of his cheekbone, and he could feel her smile against his skin.

"Says you," she murmured. "I can freely choose whom I have in my bed, yes, and I can confidently say that I have desired no one else since meeting you. You are strong, courageous, empathetic, and handsome. You have bewitched me, Hellrider, and I only hope that you will have me as well." The thought lingered in the air, both carefully waiting to see what the other would do.

Zevlor's heart was likely to fly out of his chest, and he had no doubt that Tavalia could feel that, just like she could no doubt feel his arousal pressed against her thigh. He sighed slowly, afraid he would not be able to follow through. He pulled his head back long enough to look at her beautiful, glowing eyes, before wrapping a hand behind her head and pulling her in for a deep, sensual kiss.

Tav brought her arms to Zevlor's neck and pressed herself into him. Her tongue darted out of her mouth and played with his bottom lip, which drove him into a deeper frenzy. Their mouths melded together, their sighs intertwined, breaths becoming one. Tav's hands moved to Zevlor's face, cradling his jaw as she drank him in.

His hands moved to her waist, and he began to carefully roll his fingers down the curve that flared into her hips and rounded, pert bottom. These undergarments would prove to be a future problem, and he pulled them down and off. He cupped her ass and lifted her up, leading her to straddle his waist with her thighs. She acquiesced, and linked her ankles together at the base of his tail. A jolt of electricity shot through him at this touch, and he moved his tail to encircle one of her calfs. Tav tightened her thighs against Zevlor's taut center, her sex wetting the front of trousers.

Her warmth spilled onto him, and he deepened his kiss. His tongue tentatively moved in askance against her lips before she opened her mouth and invited him in, sucking playfully. A low moan escaped his throat as he moved towards a wall and gently balanced Tavalia's back against the rough-hewn stone.

In one motion, he transferred her thighs from his midsection to his shoulders and fell to his knees. Tav's back scraped against the rock, but the sensation barely registered as Zevlor's breath hit the sensitive place at her center.

His hands gripping her hips, Zevlor gently nuzzled his nose into her soft, damp curls. Her breath hitched and her legs tightened in anticipation. His tongue flicked out cautiously, probing her slit to find the hard little bud tucked in between.

As he ran the flat of his tongue over her pleasure, Tav gasped with joy. He continued to lick and flick and tease, circling her nub until she was leaking with arousal and panting heavily.

Like a man starved, Zevlor continued to work his mouth against her sex. Slowly, he moved one finger to her entrance before working it inside. Tav cried out, her walls clamping down on his finger, which soon became two.

He stroked her carefully, beckoning her to come for him as he whispered sweet, loving words to her core. "My darling, let yourself go. I am here to catch you, and I would never let you fall too far."

At that, she felt the coils in her belly tighten before springing to a quick release. She cried out his name, sobbing, hands holding onto his horns, grasping to stay afloat. He held firm, his hands cupped around her bottom and lower back. Her thighs tensed so firmly around his face that he thought he was likely to be a dead man, but that there may be no better death in all of Faerûn.

He stood slowly, easing her into his arms, one arm under her knees, the other under her neck. She stared up at him, dazed.

"That's not what I came here to do," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I was meant to be worshipping at your altar, not you at mine."

"All in good time, my love," his whispered back, moving towards the various travel gear he had already packed.

"Do you think you can stand?" He asked, tentatively testing her weight on her feet. "Only for a moment, and only to make you more comfortable."

Tav nodded against his chest as he tipped her feet towards the ground. She stood on shaky legs, keeping one arm on his.

Zevlor unfurled a bedroll and straightened it out against the hard floor of the chamber. Carefully, he eased Tavalia to her back and onto the bedroll.

She sat, and began working at his shirt as he moved to sit next to her. Tugging, she pulled it free from the band of his pants and moved to pull it over his head. Zevlor stopped her.

"Please, if you don't mind. I am... I am not proud of what lies underneath, and I would not want to taint your memories of this evening with the view."

Tav looked hurt and startled. "Zevlor," she whispered, eyes large and round, "there is nothing about you, ever, that would make me turn away from you. Is it a scar? A burn?"

"My heritage," he mumbled, lifting the corner of his shirt. Underneath, Tav saw more of the infernal ridges, like the ones that marked his face and tail. Her eyes softened.

"Oh, Zevlor, no. Not in a hundred, thousand, thousand years would that ruin tonight. It doesn't ruin you, nor does it define you. Nothing about your infernal heritage alarms me, and I love you because of it, not in spite of it. My love, you are wholly beautiful to me, and I would see all of you as you have seen all of me. Besides, your heritage is as plain as your horns and tail. If that were ever to deter me, I would not be here now."

Gingerly, she helped him lift his shirt over his head, smiling briefly as the collar gets snagged on one of his horns. As he tosses the shirt to the side, Tav begins working on the laces to his pants. His arousal pushes against them, undeterred by these few moments of inaction.

Zevlor stands and finishes undoing the laces. His sex, hard and girthy, stands ready as he removes the pants and small clothes. He eases back to the bedroll where he is immediately met with a deep kiss as Tav climbs onto his thighs and straddles them.

His heat meets hers with a rush of sensation, both of them forgetting to breathe in that moment. Tav arches her back, grinding her center to his. He can feel her sex against him, still wet and inviting.

His tail wraps around one of her ankles, securing her. Her arms encircle his neck as she breathes into his ear. "Please," she begs, "please let me have you as you have had me." His hands move up her sides until they find her breasts, and he begins to massage them and gently pinch her nipples. He ducks his head to carefully pull one of her nipples into her mouth, where he gently licks and sucks until it becomes firm under his tongue.

"Dearest," he nuzzles against her neck, "if I allow that, then this night ends much too quickly for either of our likings. Besides, I do not deserve such attentions."

Tav snaps her head to face him, hips still grinding against his. "To the Hells, what do you mean! 'Deserve?' As if this is not an act of love, freely given? Lie down." Her grinding has stopped, and she lightly pushes him onto the bedroll before kissing and licking her way down his chest.

He has never been harder in his life than he is the moment she breathes against him. A liquid pearl sits at the tip of his member, and Tavalia is quick to duck her head and lick it off in one quick flash of her firm tongue. Zevlor moans, louder than he would have liked, but too ensorcelled by this beautiful creature to care.

As quickly as her tongue is there, it is gone again. Zevlor takes a moment of respite, the briefest of seconds, before his pleasure is deepened by the flat of a tongue on the underside of his member. A long, hot stroke goes up the shaft to the tip before Tav takes him into her mouth and begins working on sustaining his bliss.

He cannot think, he cannot breathe, he cannot remember his own name. He focuses on the wet heat that has engulfed him, that threatens to be his undoing. Tavalia licks and teases, suckles and massages at him until he finds himself on the edge.

Sensing the loss of control, Tav stops and pulls herself up to Zevlor's face, smashing her mouth into his with pure passion and possession. "Take me," she whispers to his lips. "Make me yours. There is nothing more I desire to be than yours."

Gently, he rotates her to her back and slides a knee between her legs. She opens easily for him, expectantly. "I would look upon your lovely face, my darling," Zevlor says, eyes full of love and lust. Tav nods and sighs, pressing her hips to his as she moves a hand down to guide him into the entrance of her core.

They both moan loudly as they become one. Zevlor thrusts slowly, cautiously, easing into her, that she may be able to take all of him. She is slick with her own love and has no trouble receiving all that he can give her.

She moves her hips in time with his, their tempos slowly increasing as their pleasure reaches a fever pitch. Tav takes his hand and wetly sucks his thumb before moving it between her legs. "Please, again, please," she whimpers, and he dutifully begins creating small circles around her hard, taut button.

A moan of pleasure escapes her lips, quickly turning into a scream of delight. He calls out as he finds his own release, pumping his spend into her until it trickles out from between them.

He watches her face and then pulls her in for a tender, delicate kiss. She returns, gently, sighing into his arms as they disentangle their legs and his tail.

They lie together on the bedroll, foreheads together, eyes heavy with love and sleep. Drowsily, Tav opens her eyes and stares up at Zevlor. A hand comes up, slow and soft, to stroke his cheek.

"We must depart in the morning. We have duties to fulfill, people who need us. But here and now, tonight, we have each other, and that is all I need." She kisses him tenderly, smiling into his lips.

"My darling, I could die now a happy man. I did not know that it would be possible for a man my age to find a love like this, so true, yet here I lie, you in my arms." He kisses her back, a strong, low purr beginning to emanate from his chest. "May your love and faith see me through the undoubtedly dark times ahead."

"And may we find each other once more in Baldur's Gate, with tasks complete and victories won, to begin a new journey, a quieter one, just the two of us."

They fall asleep, arm in arm and facing each other. Zevlor's tail drapes protectively around Tavalia's waist, and her soft snores lull him into a deeper peace than he has known in quite some time.

You ever have that "hungry but nauseous" feeling about activities? Like you really really want to do something and you've got plenty of fun hobbies and things you could pick from but all of the options turn your stomach so you're just laying there bored and angry about it.

you say it's my villain era and what you mean is that when you were six you panicked about wearing the right thing to kindergarten, what you mean is that in middle school nobody was eating, what you mean is that you spent high school prepping for college and college prepping for adulthood and adulthood fucking lost in the system.

what you mean is that you've been good. you were a good team player. you would have never considered yourself perfectionist - those are people more popular, prettier, more successful - but you carry any flaw like a secret in you, terrified someone will desert you for the simple reality of your personhood.

if you were good you could be loved. you could be loved if you were selfless and thoughtful and caring. if you bent over for every person, if you went above-and-beyond, it would absolve you of who you actually were. deep down, how horrible that you had needs. that you had boundaries, that you had desires. you learned young that you cannot afford to cut people out of your life - you would have nothing left. it is better to live in the service of others, to supplicate. to worship. you weren't exceptional, you had to make up for it in some way. to prove to others you were worthy.

if they need you, it's the same thing as loving you. if you are always-there, always-listening, always-friendly, you are filling a role. you have a purpose. you are living correctly.

villain era, you repeat. you mean: yesterday you finally told a man no. for hours afterwards, you couldn't control your heartbeat. you mean: you've been saying positive affirmations on repeat, trying to teach yourself any new thing about how self care is necessary. you mean: three weeks ago, due to a scheduling conflict, you finally told a coworker that no, you couldn't do them a "quick favor". you have felt bad about that ever since. sure, it would have made you work late and it would have been extra stress - but you feel bad about it nevertheless.

you tell your therapist you have been leaning into evil. she asks what that means. when you tell her: sometimes i prioritize my own needs, she doesn't find it funny. she looks at you a long time.

"and that's evil?" she clarifies.

"well," you say. "feels evil to me."

Rook: What do you call a fish with no eye?

Emmrich: Myxine Circifrons.

Rook:

Rook: fsh

Me, innocently playing Veilguard: Wow, I usually fall for non-romance-able NPCs, I'm surprised I'm starting Act 2 and not geeking out over anyone yet.

Me, upon meeting Makal Damas: Okay, well now wait a minute....

(I don't actually remember the order of operations here, I did a lot of little side quests today, but I'm fairly sure Weisshaupt was yesterday's big deal.)

The Ithaca Voice

Museum of the Earth faces extinction under “imminent” threat of foreclosure - The Ithaca Voice

ITHACA, N.Y. — The Museum of the Earth, one of the last natural history museums in Upstate New York, faces an imminent threat of foreclosure

If you have ever been tempted by a Paleozoic Pal, like a a stuffed trilobite or a full size eurypterid body pillow, now's the time to buy one, before they and a really lovely little museum are gone for good 😭😭😭

Paleontological Research Institution

Plush

Paleozoic Pals™ Paleozoic Pals™ are the Paleontological Research Institution’s line of plush fossils. The Paleozoic is the era before dinosa