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WIP 😝😝

chat I'm drawing my dnd character and something about the values of this piece are bothering me. literally everything needs to be golden because of who she is and how being gold is like, her thing, but I can't help but think this looks muddy.

please help!! 😭

also any other tips not just related to coloring would be appreciated 🙏

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OKAY I wanted to wait to post it, and forgot I had it all prepared in my draft.... huh

SO : the finished and full piece 🥰 I was having feelings about them, and-......... yeah. Here is Risha Delvaux, my half elf rogue ; and her situationship partner Nath, air genasi mage, nb/transfem, npc to our campaign.

My favorite lore about them is that they are kind of bff/partners in crime, but they try so much to not appear like they are in love that it's obvious to absolutely everyone, including themselves. Risha just loves to drown herself in denial :)

I have approximately 1561025 drawings of them but they only have clothes in few of them, so. For the record, it's because of them I focused so much on drawing since last year. I crackshipped them right away and it's almost canon now.

(almost because they need to talk, one of the few things Risha doesn't know how to do. ... she doesn't know how to elaborate)

Tagging those who commented on the WIP so that you don't skip past it aha 💕 @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @sugar-peanut-cat @cute-ellyna @nananarc @ad-astra-per-studium @ajastu Idk if it's okay ??? HOPE IT IS ?? Have a nice weekend ??? Love

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i joined a d&d campaign!! this is a total dream come true for me i'm so excited! HOWEVER. tonight is our session 0 and i'm so nervous 😭😭 doing breathing exercises to prepare to have fun 💀

anyways, here's my character 😋 (i doodled this with my finger on my phone please be nice 💔)

she's a summer eladrin cleric and i'm obsessed with her. the voice i do for her is just a bad impression of bg3's Shadowheart

she has the ancient mycenaean sun blush!

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Talk by Hozier is Gale Dekarios' song sorry I don't make the rules

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knee deep in the passenger seat or whatever

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Give my Dread Wolf a break

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I'm wrapping up Act 2 in Baldur's Gate 3 where I'm playing the Dark Urge resisting the urge cleric of Selûne

and I have a few things to say:

1. I think the Dark Urge resist is one of my favorite characters like. Ever. I'm in love with my character and she makes me want to draw again

2. I was originally planning to romance Astarion because I heard he went well with the Dark Urge but Shadowheart stole my heart. Romancing her as a cleric of Selûne is absolute peak and I'm obsessed

"Maybe Lady Shar wants me to corrupt you" (I can't find/remember the actual quote but whatever)

SHEWWWW

also, should i post screenshots of my durge? i think shes purty 💚💚

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At the party, Rolan notices Tav having a pleasant conversation with Gale. And when Tav approaches him, a slightly tipsy Rolan gives in to curiosity and asks:

"So, you and Gale... Are you together?"

Tav doesn’t understand where the question is coming from but bursts into laughter a few seconds later:

"What? No. We're not dating. I don't date guys who can't stop talking about their exes. And I don't think I could ever outshine a literal goddess..."

The words leave Rolan’s mouth before he even has time to think:

"But I'm sure you could have done it easily."

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Okay so in my playthrough of Baldur's Gate 3, I just made it to the goblin camp and I spoke with Priestess Gut. Which is fine, all well, and dandy, BUT

----- BG3 ACT 1 SPOILERS -----

She knocked out my character and locked her in a dungeon and I lowkey thought I was cooked. But that's not the point.

I happened to notice that when she spoke to my character after the screen faded to black and came back again, she said "it should've happened by now", meaning the ceremorphosis. What I'm getting from that is my character was locked up for days??? And no one had anything to say about it??? From what I've heard from the game, ceremorphosis takes about a week from start to finish, so she had to have been locked away for at least a week.

My poor character is just completely traumatized and no one batted an eye 😭😭

dw bbg I'll factor it into my personal hcs for you 💚

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The more I think of Astarion's love-hate relationship with heroic characters, the more I think of this quote from The Last Unicorn:

And where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? Where were you when I was new? When I was one of those innocent young maidens you always come to? How dare you! How dare you come to me now, when I am this!

Now I'm unwell

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Chat I'm about to play Baldur's Gate 3 for the first time again after not playing it for over a year (and never making it past the beginning of Act 2) and I need to know:

1. Any tips?

2. Who should I romance? (So like, who was your favorite and who do you think has the best content)

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I don't think enough people talk about how a Lavellan who romanced Solas is literally an Andraste figure

Like not only is she the Herald of Andraste but she is Literally Andraste

She leads an army of the faithful against Tevinter with her God-Lover at her side the entire time, only for him to leave her in the end and turn his back on the world.

Solas is The Maker and Lavellan is Andraste.

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Mythal pulled Solas from the Fade.

Lavellan drew him away from it.

Mythal moved him to duty.

Lavellan moved him to desire.

Mythal shaped his path.

Lavellan disrupted it.

Mythal called him to war.

Lavellan called him to peace.

Mythal was his hurt.

Lavellan is his heart.

Mythal was his beginning.

Lavellan is his end.

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Does anybody remember an edit of Hawke with this super sad music and Varric's voice line from Inquisition where he says "I like heroes who try their damnedest even if they fail a lot"?

I love that edit and it gets me every time but I haven't seen it in forever and I'm trying to find it 😭

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Cameo I requested from the man, the myth, and the legend himself - Gareth David-Lloyd. Inspired by these beautiful memes (1 & 2) I've made. Happy Valentine's my beautiful moots and dreadrook nation.

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crying myself to sleep tonight nbd

When Rook is twenty-eight, and Emmrich fifty-four, Emmrich takes Rook's hand gently and tells her that they must fully consider what it means for him to be so much older. To attach herself to him, when he is so close to his own decline, is folly—

Rook looks at him directly, waiting until his downcast eyes meet hers.

"I'm a Grey Warden," Rook tells him. "I know how to make every year that I am given count."

When Rook is thirty-one, and Emmrich fifty-seven, as Emmrich presses a kiss against the back of Rook's bare shoulder, Rook admits in a small voice: "I have, at most, fifteen years left to live."

In the warm darkness of their bedroom, the quiet stretches like the last moment after a crystal has been struck, just before the world falls again into silence.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Emmrich vows.

When the bells peal, sunlight and thrown petals and grains and joyous laughter raining down on them in equal measure, when Emmrich clasps her hands and says I give you my heart and soul. I will honor and cherish you each and every day of our lives— his voice sounds exactly the same.

When Rook is thirty-seven, and Emmrich sixty-three, she finds him on the floor of his laboratory, overcome by weeping.

"I have it," Emmrich tells her. "I have it. The Blight will progress no further in you."

She rocks him on the floor for a full hour as he sobs with the heart-rending relief, clutching her as if afraid to ever let her go.

When Rook is forty-six, and Emmrich seventy-two, Emmrich claims that most of his smile lines are Rook's doing.

"And many of the worry ones, too," Rook teases gently, brushing her thumb over her favorite, the divot closest to his right eyebrow.

Decades of love settle over a person as tangibly as gravity: they are both radiant with it.

They watch the sun set together, as they have done hundreds of times, hand in hand. Emmrich waits until the last sliver of pink has left the clouds before he turns to Rook to speak.

"I have learned that my solution was flawed," Emmrich admits very quietly. "The Blight in you will be at bay only so long as I live."

The light of the first rising star is reflected in Emmrich's gleaming, tear filled eyes.

Rook raises their joined hands to her mouth, kissing the back of his.

"I am older than I ever thought I would live," Rook says tenderly. "This life is enough, love."

The words soften Emmrich's expression, but fail to touch the grief in his eyes.

"It is more than enough," Rook tells him, at fifty-two.

"You think I want to live in a world without you in it?" she tells him at fifty-six.

"I love you," she tells him, every day.

"Every word in every love poem ever written isn't enough to say just how much I love you."

Emmrich peers at her over his thick glasses, pausing in his reading of the book of sonnets.

"Should I stop, then?" Emmrich teases.

"No," Rook says, settling her head more comfortably in his lap.

He runs one knotted, shaking hand through her grey hair, presses a kiss to her forehead. Rook closes her eyes.

When Rook is fifty-seven, and Emmrich eight-three, he slips away in the night. She wakes, as always, with her hand in his. She lies quietly for a long time, her eyes bleakly dry, knowing that this time is the last.

Most deaths feel sudden, in the end.

And yet every griever knows: it is still possible, somehow, to survive the removal of a heart.

After Rook has stood for two hours at the funeral, crying mechanically and stopping just as suddenly, Manfred guides her away.

"It's time to sit down, Mother," Manfred tells her gently. "Would you like water? Tea?"

Even fifteen years after beginning his travels, Manfred still sounds so much like Emmrich. The place where her heart is meant to be aches. Rook lets him settle her in a chair, and bring her the blend of tea that he designed just for her.

"There are two more bequeathments to distribute from Father's will," Manfred tells her. "He wanted both to be delivered by my hand."

The first is an elegant leather-bound book, intricately tooled, with fine gilded additions. It's carved with both their favorite flowers, intertwined. Rook opens the cover with shaking hands.

The lines are labelled with a date, with a single sentence accompanying it, penned in Emmrich's fine hand. Each is a message to her. It began almost four years ago, but— the book is far too full. Every page is written in. Rook flips forward to find that Emmrich wrote a line for every day for the next three decades.

"He should have spared himself the pain of writing so much," Rook says. "The Blight will have me far sooner than that!"

Manfred silently hands her an envelope. On its front is written:

To my darling Rook.

Rook reads the letter. She stares at Manfred, uncomprehending.

Manfred embraces her, pressing his forehead to hers in his version of a kiss to the cheek.

"The Blight won't take you at all, Mother," Manfred says gently. "He transferred the spell to me eight months ago."

Through a veil of tears, Rook sees that every neat line in Emmrich's book ends the same way.

I love you.

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I'm Your Man by Mitski is Too perfect for Solavellan I can't keep seeing these edits 😭😭 (I need more expeditiously)