Genur.art

NSFW, Phoenix

NSFW, Phoenix

NSFW, jackalope with angelic powers

NSFW, Fire Elemental

NSFW, Tree

NSFW, Queen Elsa

impossible architecture

Invictus

NSFW, fifty ways to leave your lover

NSFW, Robot Girlfriend, simulacrum

NSFW, Robot Girlfriend, simulacrum, Stepford Wives

NSFW, Robot Girlfriend, simulacrum, Stepford Wives

semi-realistic, photorealistic, 1girl petite skinny , freckles, freckles on boobs, black flowing hair with emerald eyes, small tits, beautiful face, (cute cubana) Andrea, piercing eyes, punk girl, ((bright purple skin)), tits out, bat wings on back, black horns, in a dark ritual room, on an altar, doggystyle, eyes closed orgasm. in focus. perfect eyes, masterpiece, fucked from behind by 1boy

Another corridor stretches round in a circle, and again the color scheme reverts to a deep blood red. There are no ornaments or paintings here, though there are various notices pinned onto the walls. There are chairs and lamps dotted around.

This enormous room has been expertly carved and polished to a smooth finish on all sides. Engraved murals depict the previously decrepit state of Crypt and the timeline of Zhav's'ash's rise to power. The walls show various scenes of Zhav's'ash and his powerful minions as they destroy the Welstarian forces. The room is crowned by a massive dome which is covered in all directions by precious gems, gold and silver leaf, and inscriptions of some ancient text. Zhav's'ash the Master of Death sits upon his throne situated directly in the center of the room and outlined by an ornate seal upon the ground. Zhav's'ash the Master of Death A hulking mass of fungoid life, Zhav's'ash is a sight to behold. Six, insect-like legs hang from his bulbous torso while its wings are slightly more than a hanging film of decaying matter. He does not look at you with any perceivable eyes, rather he seems to detect you with some unnatural sense. Fully assured of his superiority and mastery of this plane, he takes no notice of you at all.

A small tent of tanned sheep skins provides shelter for guards unfortunate enough to be detailed to this encampment. The shelter is little more than a fly sheet tethered to the ground and doesn't look as if it provides any additional warmth. The remains of a small fire and a scorched tin can lie forgotten in this crude dwelling. Powdery snow drifts are gathering up against the tent and are placing pressure on the poles holding it up. The guard post is quite effectively camouflaged by the snow and would be very difficult to spot from a distance. The sky is black and the stars shine down brightly. The waning half moon shines down. Fluffy white clouds drift lazily overhead.

The trail ends at twelve stubby rocks have been placed in a circle. The snow swirls over them in flurries and nearly covers them in drifts of white powder. The pitch black rocks are badly weathered into blunt shapeless forms. Around here a flat plain of ice extends as far as can be seen. It looks like the rocks are taking a beating from the wind and snow that whips through them in chaotic twists of whistling air. The sky is black and the stars shine down brightly. The waning half moon shines down. A few scattered clouds dot the sky.

Father Larwyn is a tall, well built man. The years behind the desk have done nothing to diminish his physique--if they have, you would hate to have met him in a fight then!. His long white hair is pulled back in a pony-tail and his blue eyes regard with with kindness. He wears the white robe of a high priest.

score_9, Ace of Cups

What's the dog doin?

And so it was later When the miller told this tale He said that her face at first just ghostly And then turned a whiter shade of pale

Life is a long jump off a short cliff

Life is a long jump off a short cliff

Someone feed the monkey, while I dig in search of China, White as Dracula as I approach the bottom

Not about to see your light, But if you wanna find hell with me, I can show you what it's like

I was pretending, Your secret kiss of confidence, Was my escape, The perfect game to play...

The wind is howling and the time is right for fear, In the emergence in the phosphorescent tears, And all the hippies gonna lick the mind of god, They've already been immersed in the wad

The wind is howling and the time is right for fear, In the emergence in the phosphorescent tears, And all the hippies gonna lick the mind of god, They've already been immersed in the wad

Staring at her until the end, Special lie, my only friend, That's so hard for me to take, Silly to work around the thing

Sad and pale the Autumn moonlight Through the sighing foliage streams; And each morning, midnight shadow, Shadow of my sorrow seems; Strive, O heart, forget thine idol! And, O soul, forget thy dreams!

macabre, noir, pallet:<red,black,white,gray>, Soviet Romeo and Bolshevik Juliette

Cameltoe

Cameltoe

Cameltoe

Stoner caravan emerge from sandsea, Earthling inserts to chalice the green cutchie, Groundation soul finds trust upon smoking hose, Assembled creedsmen rises prayer-filled smoke

High Hrothgar was abuzz with excitement as the winds of conflict had brought spoils from the old lost dwarven kingdoms and what marvels the trinkets possessed was unknowable but Loki excelled at guessing as well as playing with these dangerous toys Thor thought it better to sing songs of how these treasures had been earned in glorious battle but Oden watched weary o'er the eternal feast as anything so sweet can sour quickly not to mention attract pests