#;des

[lcngdays-arc]

Des Visual Reference! On the left is his preferred "human" form and on the right is his God form!

Art Credit: twitter or corpsewater on discord!

[lcngdays-archive]

Explain the poppy fields, coward

unprompted // always accepting

@plcasantnights

The Poppy Fields of Selvet.

Red poppy fields are said to be where battles took place, battles in which Des died and being ada'ka* had forced himself into immortality and was brought back to life to continue to lead his people.

And this piece of lore is true! In great battles, mainly against the dead that walk in Selvet, when Des would die or shed copious amounts of blood, poppy flowers would bloom and still do even generations and generations after his passing.

*Ada'ka: Those who somehow manage to exist outside of the Pull of Dės** and create it themselves; storytellers are sometimes referred to as ada'ka

**Dės: Dės is the name of the religion that comes to be in Selvet as a whole (well, in most of Selvet), but most prominently in Dart'tha. It is named after their god, Des, but also represents the word fate.

[probejoke]

✸ for a drabble about my muse having a sex dream about yours [idk why I'm so curious about Dez here and in general but I am. c'est la vie]

meme

He was the type that was easy to love. Anyone who knew him could say it, and many did. His heart was too big for his body, but he was easy for anyone to fall in love with. 

He did a lot of loving before he left Selvet, and did even more loving while he travelled realms and worlds alien to him. 

Even more did he dream about, and wake up messy come morning. But it bothered him very little. He loved to love, and to be loved. As the saying goes, if you loved someone, you should love them. Something cried once, carried through generations, through worlds. Love, then love. 

Their name, he didn’t remember, not in the dream, and it didn’t matter. Love needed not names, it only needed you and another, or perhaps multiple others, so long as everyone was as willing as the next. But he takes them to him, hands caressing where they’re comfortable, fleeting away from any space not. 

He takes them, and there are kisses, wet and messy, he so much bigger than they that his mouth covers theirs, fucks it raw with his tongue, then moves down their body to the warm and wet between their legs, hands holding them down by the hips, wrapping their legs around his shoulders and moving over them relentlessly, leaving them wrecked before his dick is even out. 

In the end, he wakes before he can take them, leaving himself to his own hand, and a pleasant memory.