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Maybe gouache next?

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Excited!

My fic The Ascension Day is complete!

How does Astarion get out of the time loop? Or will he? And who's behind it all? Read to find out.

Thanks @davenswitcher for the art, you are amazing as always!

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give your characters exes.

give them a variety of exes. give them relationships that shaped who they are but did not last. give them people they tried very hard to love but it didn't work out. give them situationships that taught them things. give them something deep that was real but could not endure. things that hurt. things that ended amicably. people with whom hot passion cooled to warm affection and became undying friendship.

no more first and only. give me the context of what made them know the next or one after was final and right.

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Screaming.

Pornstar AU <3

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A tentacle book mark by sew-me on reddit.

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People used to comment on web comics.

People used to comment on fanfiction.

People used to comment on fanart.

People used to comment on OCs.

I hate "content" culture.

I hate "consuming content" and scrolling immediately to the next thing.

People used to be excited about the art that other people created.

People used to want to share that excitement with creators.

I hate this future.

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I just want to show a few pages from my sketchbook. 1. The corrupt magistrate Astarion . 2. Hanahaki sussur Vellioth. 3. Cazador remembers his master.

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The young master wants to dance

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Some more of my cruiseship AU yay.

Caz at the airport on his way to said cruiseship.

Also please, someone, teach them the importance of "Do not disturbe" signs in hotels (and on cruisehips)...

And some walking cane shenanigans because apparently I can't help myself (also another OC, the old dude, his name is Cecil, I don't know what I'm doing here okay).

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My beloveds...

A cozy family evening 🥰

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Story: Love Me To My Bones

(Cazador/Vellioth)

One child unloved and raised by servants, one abandoned in the Underdark and left for dead; loneliness was familiar to both Cazador and Vellioth until a chance meeting made the young elves find a home in each other. But Cazador's attempt to break away from the Szarr legacy to forge a new life for himself goes awry as his past begins to catch up with him, and his aunt Donnela refuses to be ignored.

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Thankyouthankyou Zeph <3

Five fic recs for Thursday

Not my own! This post is solely for lifting up other amazing authors.

A fic that made me cry - Together by @lightsallout. This is a heartbreaking masterpiece about how Cazador became who he is. It's long but absolutely worth a read.

A fic that made me laugh - Just today, You Up? by @dramatiquechipmunk. Amazing naughty wordplay. I don't want to give away too much, just read it.

A fic I still think about, even if it's been a long time since I read it - Munson's Choice by Eleafeather. One of my all time favourite fics, perhaps even my favourite. Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) learns he's a fictional character. Genius, captivating, just great.

A fic that makes me feel warm inside - Found My Voice by @grenanigans. Lae'zel finds the courage to do karaoke. Cute af.

A fic that got me hooked - Another Girl Another Planet by alex144, action-packed Doctor Who AU. I don't even know that much about canon but it's very addictive.

I'm not tagging anyne - join if you want to, spread the love.

More next time. I love you. Keep writing, never stop!

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Thank you for this beautiful art @coyote-ralyn !! 😍

Young Vellioth at home for @lightsallout new fic 💜

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🥰

Underdark watercolour sketch

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🥰🥰🥰🥰

a short rest by the moors

it's movie night and the tadfools watch wuthering heights. ~1k, G

--

Astarion lies back in the center of the heap, one arm tucked under his head, the other draped on Karlach's stomach. It's his favorite part of these nights, the furnace of comfort that she is. Wyll's leg is pressed against his, knee to ankle, and on his other side, Shadowheart's hair, loose, is fanned out over his thigh. He can feel Gale behind her somewhere, nestled against a tall pillow tower. At the edge of the cuddle puddle, Lae'zel leans on Karlach's lap.

In the background, the credits from the movie flicker on, casting dim grey-blue light over their pajama-clad limbs. The battlefield is strewn with empty popcorn bowls and snack wrappers, half-drunk cans scattered across the floor.

"Well," Astarion drawls, breaking the hush. "That was thoroughly miserable."

Karlach snorts, shaking with laughter against his side. "You hated it."

"Of course I hated it. What was that? Years upon years of pointless, torturous angst, and for what? Heathcliff spends the entire story tormenting people because someone hurt his feelings a little as a child?" He scoffs, tossing a hand in the air. "Give me a break. Grow up."

"I think that was the point," Wyll replies, his tone carrying a soft sympathetic weight. "A man shaped by cruelty in turn becomes cruel. It's tragic—"

"It's selfish," Shadowheart cuts in, pushing herself up. "He thought pain gave him license to do whatever he wanted. He never tried to be better. Just made everyone else carry the weight of what he couldn't let go."

Lae'zel grunts. "He let his entire life be ruled by someone who betrayed him." Though she remains still, her voice is a cold blade through the room. "And died chasing a ghost. Weak."

"If you ask me," Gale says, fingers steepled in a perfect professorial pose, "you're all being unnecessarily unkind." Within his fortress of pillows, he props himself up on one elbow, arching a brow at them all in silent rebuke. "What Heathcliff endured was no simple heartbreak; he'd been made to starve, in circumstance and in soul. He was taught to suffer, to know only hunger—and those unmet hungers eventually devoured him whole."

"I don't buy that excuse, not for a second," Astarion returns with a scowl and a flat stare. "That's no reason to destroy everything good around you." He stretches, cracking his joints. "Isabella should've driven a stake through his cold, dead heart."

"Oh, same," declares Karlach, "hard agree." She grins with teeth bared, tosses a popcorn kernel at the screen. "But Cathy and Hareton—they made it out."

"Yes!" Wyll enthuses. "They found a way to love, and that broke the curse."

Astarion sneaks a glance, gaze slipping to the side. Wyll's hair is tousled, locs resting gently across his brow, and his voice is still tinged with leftover movie emotion. Taking Karlach's hand in his, Wyll twines their fingers together.

"Don't you dare cry," Astarion murmurs. "I will mock you until sunrise."

"Too late," Wyll says with an unrepentant sniff.

Gale hums, deep in thought, or memory, or idle agreement. "The final image—Cathy and Hareton in the garden, rebuilding. That was poetry, wasn't it? The most satisfactory revenge of all. Moving forward, into the future, refusing to be consumed by the sins of the past."

A pause. A hush settles, heavier now. The credits have ended; the screen's gone dark. The only light comes from the fairy bulbs wrapped around the basement beams, and they cast them all in a soft golden haze.

Astarion lets his eyelids fall shut, still not yet ready to sleep. Shadowheart exhales slowly, head heavy at the hollow of his hip. Then she speaks:

"I think I envy her," she says suddenly. "Young Cathy. To grow up surrounded by that much ugliness... and still choose to love."

Karlach lifts her head slightly. "You did, didn't you?"

Shadowheart doesn't answer—but she doesn't pull away when Lae'zel nudges Astarion aside with a wordless directive: move. Make room. Her hand finds Shadowheart's knee and stays there.

Astarion shifts, letting them adjust and settle against him, and each other. For once, he doesn't quite feel the need to throw barbs—not when he knows the truth of it, too. How easy it would be to let the past dictate the rest of your life. How hard it still is to unlearn survival.

He speaks into the hush, voice softer than usual. "How do you imagine their lives turned out, then? A farmhouse, quiet mornings... a goat named after Catherine, perhaps?"

"Definitely no ghost of Heathcliff hanging around," Wyll says with a deep chuckle.

Karlach lets out a snort. "Bet he haunts the outhouse. Real bastard move."

"I hope the goat kicks him," offers Shadowheart, all sleepy and sweet.

"Precisely what this story needed—just a bit more healthy conflict," adds Gale in a dry tone.

That earns a groan from Lae'zel. "You are all insufferable. Can we sleep now? Some of us need to be up in three hours."

Astarion smiles quietly, just to himself. With that, the room falls quiet again. The warmth of bodies seeps into him. Someone—Gale, probably—waves a hand to dim the lights. Feet shift under blankets, and Karlach's hand ends up tangled in his hair. He doesn't mind.

Heathcliff never got this, Astarion thinks, before sleep takes him.

This closeness. This peace.

They might have had to crawl through hell to find it—but they're here now, and gods, this was worth, well, everything.

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Vellicaz : In my power

Now I am actively studying design and putting it into practice. Including in my favorite things.

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