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Wanted to share my progress on this D&D art of the drider Nal'dorltyrr Melarn

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Proper bump of my art fight, because I'm actually able to do revenge attacks now

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Minthara: Why do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you.

Minthara: Ask me to kill for you.

Tav: First of all, hot.

Tav: Second of all, calm down.

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i will fry you in butter, garlic, and herbs

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me: i wanna talk about my ocs

someone: ok tell me about your ocs

me, suddenly convinced that every single thing about my ocs is stupid and cringy and probably offensive: i. have them

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I'm going to *remembers suicide jokes are detrimental to my mental health* quit my job and start making shoes for American Girl Dolls

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the thing about astarion is that i do think that he is COMICALLY his own worst enemy but i also recognize that the reason for that is that he hit a sharp genre shift at 100000 mph. one second you're the hot and kinda tragic but expendable minion of a d&d boss and the next you're the romancable companion in the party. this little man was built to have his lore discovered in a notebook while looting his corpse after you've killed cazador and all the sudden everyone's like hey astarion. do you want to sit by the fire and tell us about yourself :) we all like you and want you happy :) and he's like what the fuuuuck. what the fuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkk????

however i do still find him funny about it, sorry man

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I don't know how to explain it but earnest Gale-critical posts always read like jokes about cartoon character discourse to me.

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Oooh the con exclusive cover

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playing favorites

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New, spooky Deet just dropped 💀

So enamored the Mother was with him, she and her forest accepted him as one of her own. When he tried to leave, she made sure Deet would stay forever.

Beloved of the Mother of Monsters The Mother's Child, her Creation | Sage | ??? years old Swarmkeeper Ranger & Fae Warlock

As a small child, Deet wandered far from the druid circle where he lived and into the forest of a fey creature calling herself The Mother of Monsters; she was a sanctuary for the monstrous creatures of the region and her talons were swift in dispatching intruders, but this gormless, fearless child stayed her hand.

For three days and three nights she entertained the boy, playing with him, feeding him, and allowing him to sleep in her (many) arms. The Mother answered all his questions and kept her children calm in his presence as she introduced them.

She loved him as he were her very own. He was hers. The Mother of Monsters murdered Deet, mingling their blood in the soil below the oldest tree in her forest--her tree--and buried him at its roots.

Three days and three nights later, a creature clawed its way out of the blood-soaked earth. Deet was no more.

The Mother's creation had no name and needed no name, he was simply her Beloved. Raised among his brothers and sisters, her Beloved came to feel the forest as a part of his own body--as if his beating heart were buried beneath the very trees. Its magic enriched him, loved him, and he cared for it in turn. The Beloved became the forest's phantom protector and steward, wielding the Mother's power and the very forest itself to ward off lost travelers and enrich the soil with the blood of poachers.

He almost never strayed far from the boundaries of the forest, until the day he was abducted by mindflayers. (I'm not sure yet how he gets abducted.)

Far from home, he feels wrong and empty; his connection to the forest and the Mother is still there, but it is weak.

What's more confusing are memories of people and places he's sure he's never seen--and the memory of a name, Deet. The strangers he's suddenly surrounded with expect him to have one, so he borrows that name in a panic and find that if feels... right.

Still messing around with this one, but I thought it would be fun to play with another AU Deet... he's a little feral, a lot more reticent, and possibly a little undead (not sure yet how I want to handle that). He's certainly no simple half drow anymore.

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A new mode of production arises out of the newly networked masses.

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Eyes I dare not meet in dreams In death's dream kingdom These do not appear: There, the eyes are Sunlight on a broken column There, is a tree swinging And voices are In the wind's singing More distant and more solemn Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer In death's dream kingdom Let me also wear Such deliberate disguises Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves In a field Behaving as the wind behaves No nearer --

Not that final meeting In the twilight kingdom

(Life is very long)

The Hollow Men; T.S. Eliot

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x

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"They took our command post and we are going to recapture it! Get ready for combat."

She's ready again, another fight, another chance for victory. Trusting her skills, knowledge and almost endless anger.

A really fantastic and awesome piece from Laura Finchwood on Bsky.

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Casimir redesign for @pissyeti // Thank you so much again //