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Provoke the blade and suffer its sting 🗡️

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🍂Autumn in the Atelier (Page 3/6)🍂

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my little boy 😔

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"You're always casting for the sake of someone else. Why not set it aside for a bit and cast just for you?"

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wanted to make something simple for a button

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post canon farcille fits 🌱

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Sorry I acted romantic and delusional again, you can kill me if you want

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This game has changed me i fear

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Astarion contemplates his portrait with an unreadable look in his eye, one hand cupped at his chin and the other bracing his waist.

When Fevras offered to put his skills to use as payment for their help, Astarion had seemed strangely antsy. And then, when the party whole agreed he ought to be the subject, he’d looked something almost fearful. While on the chair and posed for the artist, though, he’d begun to smile; small at first, timid, like he was scared joy wouldn’t suit him, until Fevras shooed the rest of them out of the room — lest their poking around distract him — and he’d had to hide his laughter behind the palm of one hand.

It is what the portrait shows, in the end. Just a man, nameless if not for those who know him, with sunken eyes that curve like half-moons and a grin that’s barely covered beneath pale fingers. He sits leant casually against the backrest, as if caught in his most natural state, and his white hair glitters in the sunlight. It’s a sight to behold.

Gale says as much to him when he steps in close, hands clasped behind his back and a tilt to his head. Astarion’s gaze doesn’t stray from the painting to answer.

“Is it?” he asks. Then, quieter: “Am I?”

Gale smiles. He nods. “Always have been, my friend. Though I’m sure you’ve never had a chance to see yourself quite like this. Laughing; free.”

Astarion remains still. There’s only minute movement in his eyes, greedy and eager to take in every detail of each brushstroke. Fevras is a man of talent, this much is a given; but he was just as fortunate to find a subject so beautiful, even if it might anger Astarion to hear.

“I hate it.”

Gale turns to look at him now — the real thing. There’s a wet sheen to his eyes, and a tremble to his lips.

“Why?”

“Because that man is not me,” he whispers. “Because he’s laughing. He’s free. He’s having his picture taken like he’s a man worth remembering. And I don’t…” He swallows. “Well. I must admit, I’m terribly jealous. Whoever that might be.”

Gale sighs, bumping their shoulders lightly together. “You always were that man,” he says. “When you thought no one was watching. When your back was turned and you had an especially crass tome in your hands. You always were capable of it. It’s what drew me in to begin with — your aptness for finding irony even in the basest of places, no matter the circumstance. With darkness all around, it’s your laughter that guides me.”

Astarion tears himself away from the painting, just so he can regard Gale with the same quiet reverence. As if he’ll commit the scene to a canvas, as if Gale is a man worth remembering.

“You sap,” he chides, but it slips out soft and rather too fond. He leans in for a kiss he knows Gale will oblige him with; and, when he does, it’s gentle like a kind word. Like sunlight in his hair. Like freedom and laughter and a memory, painted and framed for more centuries to come.

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lowkey forgot to post this one

I swear the ajpw toolbar is like the equivalent of the mspaint toolbar to me lmao

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Sketch for my next wip!

Realized I haven’t drawn Caleb enough

I love them

Also firelight is so fun to draw can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner

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There's going to be a conclave to elect a new Pope.

I hope it doesn't-- OH MY GOD

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flower shower

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I draw this while listening to Ziggy Stardust

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Such beautiful eyes, it would be a shame a tadpole crawled inside them.