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@dorianweek Day 2: Fangs & Flora

Give my love to Dorian. The poor boy is such a hothouse orchid, he must be wilting in the cold.

info & wip shots below the cut ✂️

fun facts about this one:

this is the first piece I started for dorianweek, back on (checks metadata) aug 22!

originally, I had a snake over his shoulder to tie into the prompt more directly, but I wanted more pink across the whole piece, so I swapped it for more orchid instead.

i've strongly associated orchids w dorian since i read this line from mae. this Will become relevant again.

the working title for this drawing was "dorchid"

the color palette is picked mostly off of pictures of peacocks, aside from his skintone lol

i accidentally did a paint stroke over the halftone bg and saved without noticing so i had to go back in and hand-draw that part of the halftone to fix it 💀

here's my first pass at lines for this one with da snake:

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sorry to every Dorian week participant I keep reblogging with all the tags here instead of on the Dorian week page itself. I’m not used to switching my account in the top JDJDJD

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Felt inspired by Dorian’s tarot cards

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god i fucking LOVE them

★ day 1 : confessions & understanding

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And I, you.

Dorian Week 2025. Day One: Confessions & Understandings.

Love Confession: Dorian x Male Elvhen Inquisitor

AO3 Upload

The word hadn’t even passed through Dorian’s lips, but the framing of their connection alone made him feel as if he’d been stripped bare.

A/N: This is what happens when I write something day-of prompt at 3am instead of preparing in advance, so I’m sorry for any and all mistakes <3 Will be edited heavy at a later date.

"My own mission aside, is following the man I love not reason enough?"

Dorian's mind had already blanked on what they'd been bickering about. Something about Dorian's return to Tevinter and the hypothetical aftermath of their impending battle against Corypheus— whatever it was, it didn't seem to matter anymore. The confession hung heavy in the air between them, causing them both to falter. The mage's gaze hadn't yet left the startled expression of the Inquisitor, who had incapacitated himself with the words he'd let slip, and decided to feign interest in the floor rather than look him in the eyes.

The man I love. When had he settled on that? Dorian recalled their early morning walks, how Folyn would look at him with pure, unbridled joy as they exchanged stories of their homes along the battlements. The way he'd take Dorian's hand in his own as they strolled, tenderly caressing his rough palm with gentle swipes of his thumb. He thought of how their evening reading sessions had turned into late nights spent in the Inquisitor's grandiose quarters. How Dorian would lie at his side, fingers tracing the lambent, fade-green veins that spiraled up Folyn's arm. Dorian would spend hours pressing his lips against the thrumming sensations of magic that pulsed through Folyn's body, as if his tenderness could do anything to soothe the pain of the anchor's fury.

It had felt a tacit agreement to never name the thing they had between them. Naming things gave them weight. Naming things meant they could be lost. The word hadn't even passed through Dorian's lips, but the framing of their connection alone made him feel as if he'd been stripped bare. The mere fact it had become love, strong enough to hear it finally spoken aloud, was frightening.

Dorian swallowed, his heart beating loud enough in his chest that he could feel it in his throat. Whether it took minutes or only seconds—Dorian couldn't tell—but the tension finally broke. The inquisitor's shaky sigh pierced the silence, and made space for Dorian to take a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

Folyn's gaze lifted from the floor, meeting Dorian's eyes with a flash of uncertainty. And then he smiled, and to much of Dorian's surprise, slowly began to laugh.

"Dorian, you should see yourself." Folyn's pale face was flushed bright red. "You look absolutely astounded."

The mage stifled his own half-laugh, perplexed at the absurdity of Folyn's sudden shift. He combed a hand back through his raven-black hair, leaning against the stone library wall as he tried to restore a semblance of dignity to his expression. "Venhedis," he cursed. "Of course I'm astounded. People don't just… say things like that, Folyn. Not people like me. Not where I'm from."

Folyn's shrill laughter ceased nearly instantly, a flicker of something passing over the elf's face—hurt, perhaps, at what felt the slightest bit like rejection— before he quickly masked it. "I meant what I said." He mumbled.

That confirmation was enough to silence Dorian, more than any witty retort could have. Words tangled in his throat, his head throbbing as he tried to conjure thoughts that just wouldn't come. Love like this wasn't something bred into Tevinter's sons, it wasn't something he could claim without shame.

"This will complicate things."

"You sleep in my bed. Should I not consider things already complicated?"

Dorian exhaled through his nose, more amused than exasperated. "Those are two very different beasts."

"And yet, here you are. Running from neither." Folyn paused. "You could have shut me down, Maker knows you've ignored greater men."

His jaw tightened, and the mage fought as to not avert his gaze. Dorian had tried so hard at the art of distance; The right wit, the barbed tongue, a charm that kept people intruiged, but never quite let them get close. Yet Folyn had wormed his way through the defences, not by force, but through his sheer, unceasing warmth.

"Tevinter would never make room for this." Dorian closed the distance between them, his voice hoarse, cupping Folyn's cheek with a hand of his own, ice-grey eyes skirting across the elf's vallaslin as he spoke. "In my homeland, anything between two men…"

"I don't need Tevinter's permission to love you, Dorian." Folyn paused, his hand lightly slapping Dorian's chest before it settled over his heart. "And I don't think you do, either."

Dorian hesitated, barely much surer of himself than he had been when the evening began. He considered Folyn's words carefully as the silence stretch between them. Not comfortable, but fragile, the nauseating feeling that pooled in his belly was still finding its shape. "No." he whispered. "I suppose I don't."

"I will say it once more, plainly, then. So you'll understand." The scar on Folyn's lip shifted as he smirked. The Inquisitor pushed himself up on the tips of his boots to reach, his lips brushing against Dorian's as he spoke.

"I love you."

And when Dorian leaned down to pull Folyn into a kiss, it was not rushed or hesitant, but deliberate. A commitment made in their quiet corner of the library, witnessed only by shimmering candlelight and the books that lined the Inquisition's shelves.

Complications could come later, after Corypheus, after the sky was sewn shut. But for now, Dorian could throw caution to the wind and allow himself this. At least this. And let it be.

"And I, you."

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SUPERMAN (2025) dir. James Gunn

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My name is Hoda from Gaza, I am 14 years old. My childhood in Gaza has been a huge burden on me. I grew up before I even knew what childhood was! The occupation destroyed our home, killed my father and mother, and my younger siblings and I became homeless. 💔 I became the sole breadwinner for my siblings. My four siblings and I were displaced in northern Gaza from Shujaiya to the beach area. We now live in a dilapidated tent. I don't know how to bring food or milk for us because of the lack of money and high prices. I am the one who fills water for them and brings medicine, and all the responsibilities are on me alone! I have grown old from exhaustion and I don't know the taste of life. Unfortunately, we are living the worst pictures of life now. 💔 I hope that those who know the meaning of humanity in this world will feel for us and help us by donating and making my voice heard. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who supports us in these difficult circumstances. 🙏❤️

I feel that there is still hope in this world to help us. Thank you to every person who feels for us. Donate through this link of ours👇. May God bless you ❤️🇵🇸

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read ashesandhoney fic Lingered and wanted to draw the whisp being silly

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MOD POST - CONCEPT ART MYTHAL RESTORED (FACE EDITS)

A mod made to restore Mythal to look more similar to how she appears in concept art and more like the other Evanuris… rather than a generic human with ears. Doesn’t require swap library or rootlevel edit.

Mod Download

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Half-Elf Ear Tutorial for Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Relatively easy if you have used save editor, someone asked for a visual guide and I thought it would be helpful to cross post here just in case. Doesn’t need Frosty, but does need a PC.

Save Editor Download

:)

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*** Ma nägin und: mind jättis jumal maha, ma sosistasin ainult: pole paha! Ma nägin und: arm põgenes mu rinnast, ma kohkusin, kuid lehvitasin kinnast. Ma nägin und: mu kohal kustus laotus, ma hüüdsin hämarusse: väike kaotus! Ma ärkasin: päev avas valge süle, mu armsam hellalt kummardus mu üle, kuid surudes end vastu külma seina, ma tundsin suurt ja põletavat leina. Betti Alver, 1939

Rästik elab küll Näguri üle ja saab ka pealt näha terveks, kuid Nägur jääb kummitama tema unenägusid.

AO3 link

(Bad) translation under the cut

I have bad news and good news. Bad news is that I couldn’t find decent transalation for the poem, so I have to translate it myself. good news is that I did find someone’s master thesis about translating Betti Alver’s poetry to English and lots of translations either failed the rhytm or the peritext (at least this one doesn’t have rain splashing/speaking Latin)

*untitled* by Betti Alver I had a dream that the god forsake me I only whispered: not bad! I had a dream that love escaped from my chest, I was taken aback, but then I waved a glove at it. I had a dream that the sky above me died away I shouted into the gloom: some loss that is! I awoke and the day embraced me in its light My darling was gently bowed over me But when I pressed myself against the cold wall I felt the big and burning grief

There’s a song version of it by Vaiko Eplik that’s in my Bliperquin playlist and the comforting end of both the poem and song gave me an idea that what if Ashur does survive and also gets healed from the Blight then he still might be haunted by the blight in his nightmares. and since blight was born out of hurt and frustration, then the ghost of the blight might be cruel apathy.

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I live to draw these men.

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Probably thought I’d be doing something heroic, huh? So did I. Once. The cellar’s where they store things they don’t want to deal with. Difficult ideas. Difficult people.

inspired by last post Tarquin Week 2025

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figured out pointy ears so I could put them on one of my pavellan kids :)

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a young vesperian scion gets reprimanded by Divine Urian Nihalias for his...free thinking credit to @bendingwind who was working on a fic and shared this idea and dialogue and i immediately went ‼ and they let me panel it

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u hath disturbed magister pavus from his slumber.or something

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impromptu collab with @sidneysussex!! i got to put art to his text and vision: tarquin and a letter he will never send Ashur, I don’t I can’t I should tell you There’s things about you I shouldn’t know. Your name. Your face. Who you are when you aren’t the Viper. Suppose it’s only fair you know Look, Ashur, it’s just Don’t know how to say this, really, but I know it doesn’t mean anything, not with you being who you are and all, but Ashur, I love f uck