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precious little bhaal-babe

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Naire - A Donzela (1974)

Soft and sweet Brazilian folk-pop, written by Paulinho Tapajós, with Antonio Adolfo on piano. Nara Leao did a nice cover. Just don't try to google Naire.

#Naire #A Donzela #Paulinho Tapajós #MPB #Antonio Adolfo

Thedas Weekend — Blood on the Stairs

Prompts used (with credit):

@theelderdemon — Blood Magic + Blood on the stairs

CW: blood magic, coercion, whipping, implied torture, imprisonment

Dragon Age | New Bad Beginning (NBB)

Note: Ir abelas. Ghilan'him banal'vhen.

The sound of a belt being forcibly yanked from its loops followed. Morrigan frowned and peered down toward the base of the stairs. Straining her eyes in the poor light, she spotted runes smeared with dried blood on the last step. Around them coiled in intricate yet elegant patterns, meticulously traced with a fine dust of processed lyrium. Had she not known what to look for, the accumulated fatigue and pain might have made her miss it. This method of rune-work was unfamiliar to her, as were some of the symbols in the script. But she grasped a hint of its general meaning—one that matched the definition mentioned in the argument. She also noticed where the continuous script was interrupted by a smeared bootprint. Meanwhile, the situation below took a darker turn. — No! You bastard… What are you planning? Get away! — Kicking? Spirited… But thorns need trimming. Hold her legs still. The screams, sounds of struggle, and kicking, muffled grunts, and the rustle of fabric were replaced by the whistle of a belt cutting through the air and the sharp crack of leather striking bare flesh, followed by a girl’s shriek. Another strike came immediately—the kind that would leave a red welt on any part of the body, soon to darken into a bruise or even split open. The shrieks dissolved into sobs. Morrigan realized it wouldn’t take ten more strikes to break the proud girl’s will. Shaking her head, she rose to her feet. To Morrigan, events had unfolded disastrously. So disastrously, in fact, that she couldn’t help but wonder if another will was pulling the strings. What were the odds that such a volatile scene—boiling emotions spilling over—would play out just as she descended? Especially with the barrier against demonic incursion already compromised. Yet even with her suspicions, the oaths she’d sworn demanded intervention. There was little doubt about the victim’s identity now. Naire.

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