#do i have a tag for my dnd ocs? no! do i need to make one? yes! will i make one? not right now

[gncrezan]

tagged in a wip whenever by @night-triumphantt !!!! i am not even working on any big piece so you get a collection of the dragon age sketching i'm doing on different layers, trying to figure my rook out and learning how to draw lucanis who against my will has enchanted me actually

not tagging anyone but pleaase feel free to do it if you like!!!

[mothscotch]

som sketchbook doodles

i got an eraser today after not having one for a month yippie (if u can see where i tried to erase and failed uh no you cant<3

+ me having to use my computer as a light to see my sketchbook

[memento-morri-writes]

I've been thinking a lot about how Rook's reunion with his former mentor, Zara, is going to go, and since I can't predict what the DM is going to have her do or say, I can only dwell on what I know is going to happen. Which happens to include taking off the illusion ring that's been hiding his injuries from her. So have a snippet of the description I have planned for that moment:

tw for description of (mostly healed) injuries

He hesitates, twisting a ring on his finger. Looking at it more closely, she can tell it’s very finely crafted, and must have been very expensive. A large emerald is set into the band. Rook sighs, and pulls the ring off his finger in one quick motion.  Immediately she’s struck by the difference in his appearance as the illusion melts away. He looks awful. His warm, healthy skin fades to a dull and sickly grey. There’s huge bags under his deeply sunken eyes, and his cheeks are hollowed, as though they have been carved out by an overeager sculptor. He looks like he’s recently risen from the grave.  While he was thin before, now she can see his ribs under the skin, and his collarbones are exaggeratedly pronounce. Thin white lines left by dozens upon dozens of recently healed cuts are scattered across his body. On top of that, faded bruises cover most of his visible skin, a mottled mosaic of purple and yellow. They’re clearly days, maybe weeks old, and she can only begin to imagine what they must have looked like when fresh. Bandages are barely visible under his shirt, wrapping around his back, hinting at even more injuries.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Blorbos from my dnd post-campaign. Mildly deranged paladin, who's spent the last decade traveling Faerun in an ill-defined and vaguely homoerotic partnership with a druid, is tasked with becoming the traveling companion and knight errant of the druid's daughter, an anxious freak of a cleric, because because her father (who is retiring from adventuring) and in fact her entire community are afraid that she's going to get lost in another Domain of Dread if she sets out alone again.

[gilfrespecter]

Doodle page from the last few days ft Emerson in that one Orville Peck outfit bc it's funny and so so much of the other cowboy and a concept for a thing I need to do a shitton of research to write that I don't want to so it will float in my head till I eventually cave and do it

[bweirdart]

nearly oc-tober time again - time for some prompts for 2024

F.A.Q

do i have to draw?

not at all! you are free to participate with any medium that suits you... writing, artwork, free bases and templates, simple text posts, in-character-as-your-oc roleplay, whatever! (just no stealing or AI)

do i have to make new content?

nope! re-uploading old stuff that fits the prompts is allowed (and encouraged) ... old art that didn't get the appreciation it needed always deserves a chance to be shared again, it's a fun throwback!

do i have to post every day?

nope! only 10 days are mandatory (the ones in red with a star symbol) and everything else (yellow) is 100% optional! if you're busy or tired, please skip as many as you want

can i start early?

you can prep your posts in advance if you need to ... but please wait until the right day in october to share them!

can i re-upload your prompt list to another site?

i would prefer if you dont - i have accounts on most sites, so just reblog/retweet/share from me!

event tag?

#bweirdOCtober

have fun!

image desc/text version ↓under the cut↓ or on bweird.art/october

prompts:

WEEK 1: OC INTRODUCTIONS

⭐ 1: FAV OC

what makes them your fav?

2: NEW OC

how recently did you make them?

3: OLD OC

how long ago did you make them?

⭐ 4: UNDER-APPRECIATED OC

an oc you feel like you don't talk about enough, or you haven't fleshed out as much as you would like

5: RE-DESIGNED OC

an oc who has changed a lot (what changed about them?) or, if you haven't redesigned an oc: is there anything you might want to change about an existing oc?

WEEK 2: BUILDING BACKSTORY

⭐ 6: PAST

where is your oc from? what did they look like as a child?

7: LIKES

what do they like (and why?)

8: DISLIKES

what don't they like (and why?)

⭐ 9: RELATIONSHIPS

doesn't have to be romantic! can any kind of relationship (frienship, family, rivalry etc)

10: PERSONALITY

what are your oc's main personality traits

11: SYMBOLISM/THEMES

what represents your oc? is there a specific colour you associate them with, or a specific animal?

12: FUTURE

what will your oc look like in the future? do they have any plans or goals?

WEEK 3: FUN + GAMES

⭐13: MEMES

do any memes remind you of your oc? are there memes your oc would find funny? maybe you want to redraw your oc as one?

14: WHO/WHAT INSPIRED YOUR OC

are there existing characters that your oc looks like? was your oc based on yourself? is your oc originally from a specific fandom?

15: MUSIC

share a character playlist, write a songfic, post lyrics that remind you of them, etc

⭐16: EYES CLOSED or NON DOMINANT HAND

draw a picture of your oc with your eyes closed or with your non domminant hand, write or type a paragraph about them without your eyes closed, etc ... have fun, and don't worry about it looking "bad" -it's meant to!!

17: DnD ALIGNMENT CHART

put all your ocs into a DnD alignment chart, or any other similar chart if you prefer

i've compiled a few templates on my site, but you can find more easily if you google "oc alignment chart"

⭐18: SWAP

swap something between your ocs - their role in the story, hairstyles, personalities, fashion taste, species ... whatever you want! how would this difference change them?

19: PALETTE CHALLENGES

draw your ocs with as many of these colour palettes as you want (or just skip if you don't draw/don't like doing these!)

hex codes for the colours:

palette 1 - #3C1E81 #6D1EA2 #B059E8 #FE0876 #FE5284 #FE7C96 #E0CFE3 #FFD5C3

palette 2 - #352823 #673F28 #AB541C #BA8233 #897128 #A68B2F #F7BF6A #DAC3A4

palette 3 - #A42E25 #D7412B #E47C29 #F7A233 #FCC02D #FCE4A6 #486548 #FEFDE8

palette 4 - #2F4769 #39597E #53779C #94D1E7 #AADDE7 #D48DB7 #D498B5 #D2BABA

WEEK 4: COMMUNITY

20-26: A WHOLE WEEK OF SOCIAL STUFF

if you don't have the time/energy to do every day this week, ⭐ day 23 is the only one marked as mandatory! you can skip the rest!

some ideas for what you could do: talk about a friend's oc you like, make gift art/writing of them, collabs, trades, reblog/appreciate ocs in the event tag, make interactions between your ocs and other people's

WEEK 5: HALLOWEEN

⭐27: FEARS

is your oc scared of anything? do they have any phobias? are they startled easily? would any of your ocs try to scare ppl on purpose?

28: MONSTER

what would your oc be if they were a monster (eg: werewolf, vampire, eldritch beast.. whatever) or, do you have an oc who is already a monster?

29: PUMPKIN CARVING

your ocs carving pumpkins, a drawing of a pumpkin carved to look like your oc ... or even carve it in real life!

30: GHOST

this can be literally a ghost, or a concept that haunts your oc! up to you!

⭐ 31: COSTUMES

what are your ocs wearing for halloween?

[jo-harrington]

Heaven - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie had written off ever finding his person. Yeah he could fool around and have some fun, but at the end of the day no one would look at him the way he wanted them to. Until you came along and, in the most unexpected way, changed his life forever.

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: Fluff, Love at First Sight, Soulmates(?), Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Implied Sexual Encounters, Implied Supernatural Encounters, Angst, Abandonment, Biblical and Other Literary References

Note: Set before Hell, we have our introduction to Reader/OC for my Van Helsing AU/Kas!Eddie series, As Above, So Below. Once again, this can be read as a stand-alone, but if you're planning on reading the eventual series, you might want to read the prequels.

That being said, this fic and the subsequent fics/chapters in the series will not be for the faint of heart. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find the As Above, So Below masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

"Your place in heaven will seem to be made for you and you alone, because you were made for it. Made for it stitch by stitch as a glove is made for a hand."

—The Business of Heaven, Daily Readings from C.S. Lewis (1984)

March 1984

When Eddie met you, he had all but given up on finding love.

He had heard it all before.

He was young. He still had the rest of his life ahead of him. Maybe love wasn't in Hawkins. He just needed to have patience.

But it stung to watch the others receive affection, care, and understanding when he waited. Wanting, deserving, but never receiving.

Until you walked into the Hideout, wet and weary after a long drive to an unfamiliar place in unforgiving conditions.

You weren't some spectacular beauty, or otherworldly siren, or heavenly angel that he would expect in a fantasy novel or a DnD game. You were, quite frankly, a mess. But as you turned and nodded your head along to the music, Eddie swore his heartbeat was louder than Mickey's relentless assault on the drums.

He approached you at the end of the set as you sat at the bar nursing a cherry coke and circling want ads in the classified section of the Hawkins Post.

He asked you if you liked cheese fries before he even said hello.

And the laugh you made was loud and honking, but it was nevertheless perfect.

You were a disaster made, he hoped, just for him.

June 1984

“The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall rise,” Eddie muttered as he traced the words etched into your forearm. “That from the Bible?”

"Yeah."

“That’s pretty badass.”

While all of his classmates were dressed in their best clothes—their caps and gowns—being celebrated by the fanfare that befitted the class of 1984, you and Eddie were spread out in the back of his van in your underwear, studying each others tattoos after a day of swimming and skipping rocks at Lover's Lake.

It was a lazy kind of day.

You had sensed his anxiety in the days prior, when you asked about the end of the school year, about his plans after graduation. He initially wasn't going to tell you that he wouldn’t be graduating. He tried to skirt around it. But somehow you knew.

You always knew. Because you knew him.

You suggested a day out, just the two of you. Something special. As opposed to the many "dates" he had taken you on where his friends ended up tagging along. You promised you didn't mind, but he would have liked to kiss you freely without some doofus making lewd noises in the background.

But your idea had been perfect.

Graduation was played up to be some kind of achievement, something special. But how could it be when you were surrounded by a hundred other kids who all knew the same shit you did. Probably didn’t even know it, actually; they were just good at remembering it for a little while.

How could that feel special?

But this? Learning about you? It was more important than math or science or some other useless bullshit.

Knowing you—loving you—was the most special thing he could ever achieve. And he was proud to say that he was getting straight A’s.

“Listen," you started as Eddie pressed a kiss to your skin. "I know all of the love-thy-neighbor-Jesus shit is pretty lame. But…I don’t know, some things are cool.”

“Care to elaborate?” he asked.

“Some of the Saints…reliquaries, catacombs, the Book of Revelation,” you shrugged. “You can kind of choose what you want to believe in, I guess.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point of organized religion?” He huffed and rolled onto his back, pulling your arm across his torso so you could rest your head on his shoulder and your body could drape across his comfortably.

"Isn’t what the point?" You fished the sharp pendant of your necklace from between your bodies and laid it on his bare chest beside his.

His was simple, a guitar pick he'd caught at the first concert he ever attended.

Yours, intricate, a silver cross with flowers and vines intermingled around the arms. Hyacinths, you told him once. As though he knew what they were. But he made a mental note to try and find them for your birthday, since you seemed to like them enough to have a necklace with them.

“Well, it's organized. That you all believe the same…I dunno. Stories? Lessons?” He rambled on as his hand gestured absentmindedly.

“It's all just…rules made by old men,” you scoffed. “Some stuffy guy in the Vatican says…I don’t know…don’t step on a crack or you’ll break your mother’s back and earn a one way ticket to hell? And I’m supposed to believe it?”

“That’s just a superstition.” He paused for a moment and snorted. “Kind of ironic that I, a supposed devil worshiper, am telling you this, Miss Catholic School.”

You rolled your eyes at him but still smiled.

“Pretty sure if someone knows more about Satan between the two of us,” you giggled. “It’s me.”

“Shhh, you’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

July 1984

The 4th of July fell on the most perfect day.

It might have rained a little earlier that morning, but Eddie had certainly slept through it, and it made way for perfect skies and just the slightest slickness to the grass as he and the boys ran around the open fields surrounding Weathertop.

The van was full of fireworks, and Jack's mom had set them up with sandwiches and a few coolers of iced tea and lemonade. Mickey brought the beers. Eddie had the good sense to invite some of the younger guys too, which meant Gareth's mom had sent him along with a few extra pies she had made.

Apple, Strawberry Rhubarb, and Cherry—Eddie's favorite.

His mouth watered for the tantalizing summer feast, but he craved you more.

You were a little late to the party, having worked the opening shift at Bradley's, but before long your clunky, hand-me-down Marquis pulled up alongside his van.

"The freezers went down at work," you called to the boys. "So I have, like, a hundred boxes of bomb pops. Can I get some help before they melt? I have no A/C, so it’s hot as Hell."

It had just reached the height of the day, and the boys whooped and tripped over each other to get to the sweet, icy treats.

"In the backseat," you reminded them. "Not the trunk."

“Why don’t you let me take a look at your car?” Eddie asked, snaking his arms around your waist.

“To fix the a/c? If you want.” You shrugged but beamed at him. “It was my grandpa’s car. It’s on its last legs anyway.”

"At least let me look at the trunk." Eddie offered and you rolled your eyes at him, pushing him away from you playfully. "What? Then you wouldn't have to shove, like, a hundred boxes of bomb pops in the backseat."

"I swear, the trunk is just rusted shut at this point," you supplied with a laugh. "There's no use."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," he pouted. He knew you knew when he was fishing for a kiss, but you gave in to his pouting anyway and immediately chased after his lips to plant one on him.

That night after the feast is consumed and everyone is enjoying the fireworks, Eddie couldn’t ignore the feeling that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

His closest friends would be gone soon, off to college and leaving him behind. His band practically broken apart, dreams shattered, if not for Gareth and Jeff.

Everything was changing.

And the only constant he could count on now was you.

He couldn’t help but worry how long it would be before you'd leave him too.

October 1984

The cicadas chirped and buzzed wildly. A mourning dove that had nested on top of the trailer in the spring and was still there and cooed restlessly, calling for a mate that had left it behind. The cheap window units Wayne had gotten from the hardware store ages ago chugged and clunked away to keep the trailer just on the side of cool enough to wear clothes.

They were sounds of summer, not fall, and most certainly not Halloween. But it was an unseasonably, disgustingly hot week, and it did nothing to help Eddie get into a chilling, haunted mindset as he planned a special one-off campaign for Hellfire on the 31st.

His repeat senior year hadn’t started off too well. The teachers were unforgiving, the students unkind. But he had promised Wayne he would try.

Things like the band and Hellfire certainly made it bearable.

You made it bearable.

You’d been working a lot of nights lately, but still made time for him and promised him special incentives and treats if he did well in school.

If he showed up on time for a week, you could have a sleepover at your apartment. Pass a test with a grade above a C, you’d tell him a secret.

He hadn’t gotten quite so good of a grade on a test yet but he had written a killer essay in English and he had negotiated your participation in Hellfire for Halloween, since the roster was slightly lacking this year. It hadn’t even taken much negotiation, really; you were just as excited to learn everything about him as he was about you.

So you’d spent a lazy Sunday afternoon with him as he explained the mechanics of the game and helped you create a character.

“…I forgot to mention if you do pick a rogue, you have proficiency in de—what’re you looking at now?”

He’d paused his lesson to grab some drinks, and when he returned, you were frozen in place, staring intently at a page in his players guide, brow furrowed. One of your hands clutched the book tightly, and the other touched the words on the page almost reverently.

He set your sodas on the nightstand and then glanced over at the book.

“Ah, we hadn’t gotten there yet,” he laughed and flopped down on the bed. “Tsk, tsk, reading ahead. But don’t worry, paladins are really cool. They pledge an oath to a deity—devote their whole lives—and then get this…divine ability so long as they uphold it. They can heal or even smite—”

You slammed the book shut at that and Eddie jumped in shock. You refused to look at him for a moment, rubbing your hands over the cover of the book in contemplation, before you looked up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I think I’ll be a rogue,” you nodded. “That sounded really cool.”

“A-are you sure?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat and sank down into his pillows. You rested your cheek against his shoulder, nuzzled him slightly, and shoved the book back into his hands. “So what else do I need to play?”

November 1984

Eddie woke abruptly to frantic banging on the front door of the trailer.

It had been raining when he went to bed, which usually helped him sleep. At first he thought the storm had just gotten stronger. 

Until he heard your voice.

You had abandoned the front door in favor of the side door near his bedroom. You tripped over the bowl he left for the stray cats and swore viciously. He chuckled tiredly until the banging started again and his heart seized in his chest.

You weren’t knocking. Your hands were practically slapping at the door.

“Please, God, please, please.” He could hear you muttering desperately.

He kicked the soft comforter off and pushed himself out of bed to get to you. As soon as the door was open you crashed into his chest, your arms wound around his waist, and you sobbed. Great, broken sobs that made his heart break.

He was about to put his arms around you, to soothe you and ask you what was wrong, when he smelled it.

Smoke. Fire. Acrid and cloying, engulfing you.

He looked down and was shocked. You were filthy; covered in dirt and soot and muck. The edges of your clothes and the ends of your hair were singed. You were visibly shaking.

"W-what happened?" Eddie asked frantically, prying your arms from around him, trying to see if you were hurt. He froze at the sight of blood caked on your hands and wrists. His stomach churned when he noticed the streaky stains it left below your nostrils. "Are you ok? Are you hurt? What happened?"

You simply shook your head and collapsed back against him.

He couldn't help the fear that overtook him, but he stayed strong as he pulled you into the trailer. As he got you into the shower and washed...whatever happened off of you. There were no cuts or burns or bruises. He tried to ask again, once you had calmed down enough that the tears fell silently and the only sounds you made were an occasional hiccup.

The next morning you were fine. You told him there was an accident at Bradley's. But there was no report on the news or in the paper. The building was fully intact. All of the staff were present and happily employed. You had no problem going back to work; in fact, you did so with a smile on your face.

Eddie never asked.

Because he knew you had secrets.

You never told him.

Because he never got a better grade than a C.

A month after that night, though, Hawkins National Laboratory was shut down and abandoned.

January 1985

"...can't I have anything for myself. It's unfair." Your muffled voice pierced through his dreams and pulled him into awareness.

He had been a light sleeper after that night in November, especially when you stayed over. You muttered in your sleep sometimes; it would wake him. You'd shift just far enough away; that would wake him too.

You had never had a full-on conversation before, though.

"Sins of the father, and sins of his father before that. Blah blah."

He blinked the bleariness from his eyes and watched as you paced at the foot of his bed. You wore nothing but your necklace. The cross swung wildly as your arms gestured and when you turned on your heel to continue your endless back and forth. Your voice was hushed.

It was half of an argument with an unseen adversary.

“I need a break…I know I haven’t been at this for long, but I’m sick and tired of it already.”

He vaguely wondered if you were hallucinating. A bad high. You’d always been reluctant to smoke with him but he had insisted tonight. After tangled limbs and quiet declarations in the sanctuary of his bedroom. Words of worship whispered to one another. The buzz beneath his skin had felt foreign and he figured the weed could mellow it out.

Maybe it had the opposite effect on you.

But then Eddie felt it.

As awareness settled over him, he felt an unseen, suffocating presence. It felt like the days where the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, only this time...the weight of the entire universe, every atom and every molecule, every moment--past, present, and future--existed all at once in his small bedroom and crushed him flat on his bed.

You continued on your one-sided rant and he didn’t know how you managed to move so freely when he felt so trapped, pinned in place by the weight of it. He tried to get your attention but he couldn't move, couldn't breath.

In the corner of his eye he swore he could see it. Blazing fire and wings and eyes.

He gasped and looked but saw nothing there. Still, the suffocating weight closed in on him further, pressing and squeezing, crushing him. And fear gripped him tightly. He wrenched his eyes shut and for the first time, probably in his life, he prayed.

He begged for it to go away.

Because if it didn't. He was going to die.

The bed shifted with your weight as you crawled to him and as soon as your hands reached him, he could breathe again.

“Eddie, oh my god please, are you ok?” You asked frantically, cupping his face in your hands. “Please say something.”

He gasped for air and sat up, clutching your hands to his face. You were his lifeline, his savior.

He closed his eyes and a million thoughts raced through his mind.What the fuck was that? Are you ok? Maybe he had a bad high, not you? Was it a nightmare? What the fuck was that?

February 1985

Your goodbye was expected. But that didn't mean it didn't cut him straight to his core.

You had been waiting for him one Friday night after Hellfire; he had driven the guys home only to find you waiting outside the trailer. Your car was packed with your belongings, similar to the way it had been the night you had stumbled into Hawkins.

He felt like vomiting as soon as he saw you.

You fed him some story about a sick, dying grandmother. How your mother had left a message on your answering machine begging you to come back home.

"She needs me," you told him.

"I need you," he replied desperately.

You couldn't do much more than shake your head and break down in tears.

"I'll come back," you promised. "It won't be long. Just wait for me."

In hindsight, he wished he had screamed and cried and begged you to stay. He wished that he had offered to go with you. Chicago wasn't that far. Wayne would have been mad, but then...Eddie would still have you.

Eddie was a good liar, though. He could fool anyone if he tried hard enough. He could even lie to himself.

He smiled and nodded and pretended to understand.

"Sure," he agreed. "I'll wait."

Your eyes started watering and you pulled him into the tightest hug. He wrapped his arms around you numbly, and as he did, he vaguely remembered some bullshit myth--

How humans were created...conjoined together. 4 arms, 4 legs, a head with two faces...but the Gods feared their power, split them in two. Condemned them to spend their lives apart.

--And he wished that he had some sort of secret, divine power to meld himself back together with you. Because surely, you belonged there with him. And if he concentrated on squeezing you just right, you would simply fuse together and you would never be apart again.

Life didn't work that way though.

You reluctantly pulled away from him and pressed a wet kiss to his lips.

Before you got in the car to drive away forever, you took off your necklace and pressed the cross into his hand. It practically burned.

"Don't lose that," you told him. "I'll be back for it."

He closed his fist around it and nodded, unable to trust himself with words.

He watched as you drove away, stayed standing outside until he couldn't see your tail lights anymore.

He let himself in the trailer, glad that Wayne was still at work--

You'd be back. You promised. You loved him. He loved you. You told him almost everything. You brought him hope. And care. And you made him feel complete. You'd be back.

--as he threw your necklace into the furthest corner of the room.

As he screamed in agony.

“Life moves very fast. It can go from Heaven to Hell in a matter of seconds.”

—Eleven Minutes, Paulo Coelho (2003)

[aureoboros]

commissions are: closed for now!

hello everyone!

i’ve had health problems that are making it very difficult for me to work and function outside of my home, which just isn’t viable with how expensive necessities are. so while i’m in this limbo, i’m opening up commissions! reblogs are greatly appreciated :]

a lot of my examples are bg3/dnd related, but regular ocs are more than welcome, too! i can also do fanart for other media if you’d like.

for right now, these will be through paypal. just send me a dm here if you’re interested! more information below the cut.

commission info:

- first come first serve, i will keep in contact with you throughout the process and start the sketch asap. for drawings with the highest level of detail, it’s possible that it may take a few weeks for me to complete. lower levels will take about a week or a few days over.

- while this is over dms for the moment, i’m going to make a proper form to fill out! reference photos are greatly appreciated for ocs, but detailed descriptions work too! i would also prefer if you provided a short personality description, and any ideas you have for poses or character interactions. i want it to be as close to what you envision as possible! if you want the drawing to be set at a specific time, or a specific aspect ratio for the image, let me know that too! busts cut off at the mid-chest, and half-bodies are cut off at the mid-thigh. i can also make icons (head-shot only) for a discount!

- payment comes after you’re happy with the composition! i’ll block out the characters and where they’ll be on the canvas before moving on to the full detailed sketch.

- i know my example images don’t have much shading. it’s because i enjoy the lineart process a lot more than anything else, so i don’t focus on it as much in my personal work. for fully rendered pieces, though, there will be actual light and shadow.

- more explanation on backgrounds: basic flats, simple patterns, and simple objects for framing are free of charge. keep in mind that detailed backgrounds are not my strong-suit, but i do need the practice, and i will try my absolute best. the more detailed the background is, the more it will cost, but everything is negotiable.

- i can do anthro characters (like tabaxi, dragonborn, etc) in my detailed style too! i don’t have as much experience in drawing robotics or machinery, but it’s not off the table. i like doing little details :]

- i will not draw illegal ships or anything hateful (racist, homophobic, the obvious), and i don’t do nsfw.

- don’t use my art for ai training or nfts.

- if you have any questions, feel free to ask!

- thank you for reading ^^

a better look at some of my examples - for more, check the #digitalart tag:

[ryn-loves-cheese]

Hi! ৻(•̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)⊹｡ Welcome to my tumblr page! I’m Ryn I go by they/them! And I’m pansexual/demiromantic

fandoms I draw for:

•demon slayer

•jujutsu Kaisen

•spyxfamily

•sk8 infinity

•Tokyo revengers(haven’t finished the show yet)

•httyd

•the owl house

•mincraft

•the Magnus archives(haven’t finished the podcast yet)

•DND

•hazbin hotel

•sky: children of light

•Ramshackle

•bungo stray dogs

•Sanrio

•Luigi’s mansion

•Pokémon

•Kirby

•Arcane

•splatoon

•doctor who

•the apocathary diaries (haven’t finished the show yet)

•yaeklore

•castle

•house MD

•bones

•gravity falls

•the outsiders

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN, no ocs right now sorry]

☀️I TAKE ART REQUESTS☀️I can’t promise I’ll get to them but if you have any do send bc my ass always has art block- ill be doing two at a time at most

I will draw your ocs or any characters I’m okay with ships but i can say no if I’m uncomfortable with the ship that also goes for any other drawing I can refuse if I’m uncomfortable

Things I’m ok with:

oc x oc

oc x canon character (no minor x adults)

Canon character x canon character (DEPENDING ON THE SHIP)

Chibi characters

Regular animals: parrots, cats, dogs, lizards, snakes, fish, tigers, chickens, anything like that

food

mild gore or candy gore

any of the things on that list I will draw :]

Things I’M NOT OKAY with drawing! You will be blocked if you ask for some of these things! (Also this is a DNI list for some things):

proshipping(minor x adult) -immediate block don’t bother following me

racist or homophobic or transphobic don’t follow me istg

NSFW

heavy and graphic gore

Anthro/furries (i don’t have a issue with them i just don’t know how to draw them)

mechanical or mecha stuff (idk how to draw this)

any depiction of ‘Yandere’ or unhealthy toxic relationships that shits not welcome here

‼️this should also be clarified i will NOT draw ANY nsfw or suggestive material i may make jokes but don’t ask it of me i don’t mind blogs with mildly suggestive material follow me along as its not straight up nsfw. I’ve seen a few blogs like that follow me but general rule of thumb here DNI if you are a blog that has graphic nsfw art or material it’s just weird I’m a minor it’s not hard to understand you’ll be blocked :3 Ty for reading‼️

this is my oc ryn!

my moots/freinds :]

@bin-s0 (lovely artist and very sweet :] and my bf they are literally one of my favourite people 🩷🩷🩷)

@boo-simplified (also a banger artist and a very wonderful friend i know them irl and they are so goddamn nice✨)

@mercurymaceo ( EDIBLE ART. Need I say more! And a very close friend ⭐️✨)

@kimetsu-chan (LITERALLY SO SWEET OMG 💖💖very pretty art and a good writer)

@thesilliersakura (ART IS VERY SILLY AND ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS and very silly freind)

@swisscheeselovers-blog (he is another close irl friend of mine dose some silly doodles once and a while. SO FUNNY ONG very goofy and silly friend 🫶💖)

@shycroissanti (some more edible art has one of the silliest ocs ever and is so nice!)

@clownpalette (ART IS SO SILLY AND CUTE!!!)

@aceofstars0 (so sweet makes some SCRUMPTIOUS ART- I wanna eat it please follow them :] )

@rion-isnot-an-ai (yet another underrated artist who is also very nice! Makes lovely art!)

@silas-png (bro im bouta eat your art if you’re not careful THE RENDERING THEY DO IS JUST 😭💖✨🤌)

@pearlymoonn (OMG they are so nice iv spoke with them before and they’re lovely fncndhshchvu they make very cute art!)

@scrimblyscrorblo (very silly doodles iv spoken with them a couple of times and i absolutely adore they’re art its so goofy and cute and are also very nice 🫶)

@delirious-dan (THE ART <3 so good and they are very silly and cool)

ANYWAY VERY SILLY MOOTS GO FOLLOW EM :D

thanks for reading and welcome to my blog :]

divider creds to:

@cafekitsune

my art tag is #Ryn’s art 💜

[quitealotofsodapop]

I wanna introduce y'all to an oc/story concept I've had for a while now.

Oc created using the "Bright's Picrew Hell" since I am terrible at drawing.

Basically its a parody and deconstruction of an Isekai story - aka "character is teleported/reincarnated into another world" (for example KonoSuba, That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, Digimon etc.)

The main character of this idea is Sekai Ishida; a gloomy shut-in with cerebral palsy and spinal bifida who's dealing with having aged out of the foster system and finding supports for his disability. Sekai was minding his own business going to career training when;

Sekai, being physically disabled, is unable to climb out of the way of a speeding subway car when he stumbles (or was tripped) onto the tracks. He closes his eyes.

He awakens to find himself dumped through a portal to a magical fantasy world.

When the many gods greeting him in the space between worlds ask him if he wishes for a boon to bring with him into this new life; Sekai impulsively replies "Give me back my crutches."

Well shit now he's just some Japanese guy with severe mobility issues in a dnd-inspired medieval kingdom with no fighting experience or magical add-on. What's a guy to do?

Wormwood; an Aberrant demon looking for a host: "

Wormwood: "Hey you wanna-" Sekai, already fed-up: "Whatever, sure." (*shakes hand*) Wormwood: "Damn, ok. Didn't even need a sales pitch." Workwood: (*painfully merges into Sekai's body*) Wormwood: "...damn bitch, you live like this?" Sekai: "Yeah." Wormwood: "I can't even look into parts of your brain." Sekai: "Yeah those don't work." Wormwood: "Screw this, I'm finding another off-worlder for my plans." (*nothing happens*) Wormwood: "...why can't I leave?" Sekai: "HAH! You're trapped in here with me!" Wormwood, tentacles waving frantically: "I can't even move your legs!" Sekai, gestures to crutches, laughing manically: "Neither can I!" Wormwood: "You are evil."

So now Sekai has one thing going for him; an inky symbiote-esque demon thats trapped in his body that's pretty keen on keeping Sekai alive. For now.

Also, you know how the demon mentioned "off-worlders"?

Yeah. Sekai isn't the only one.

It's a frequent phenomena in the magical kingdom, to the point that there are new laws in place to deal with people that fall through.

Notably:

Report immediately to the King.

Surrender all technology and/or organics to the crown.

Any accompanying animals will be quarantined or destroyed.

If it looks like nothing fell out of a portal hole - no it didn't. Evacuate the area immediately.

Off-Worlders should avoid making deals with spirit and/or demons, as they are an untapped source of raw magical life force (Sekai: "Oops"), and can cause the world around them to glitch and break down since they're essentially aliens.

Its not always human either. Dogs, cats, birds, and trilobites frequently wander/fall in. Imagine the utter terror of villagers used to dragon when they see a saltwater crocodile for the first time.

It's not always humans or organic things that fall in though. Like in Digimon where a subway car or a fridge full of eggs would randomly glitch in.

The ultimate common denominator is people and things that have experienced "glitches in the matrix"-style disappearances and have just... disappeared back in their home time/dimension. Oh yeah, people from completely different cultures and universes can fall through too.

Sekai (and his tag-along wormwood) occassionally fall into other universes due to Wormwood's own research into interdimensional travel. It was the very reason he sought out a host - someone proven to be able to handle the trip. Sekai hates this. HATES THIS. Let him have junk food and video games again!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not responding to someone in rp?

📝 <- to recognize

Also disclaimer this is about to be a very low stakes problem about a very small rp server between friends. If you don’t care then don’t read it’s fine 😂 I just want opinions over something I have some anxiety about. Everyone is in the same age range of about 24-26

Ok, so: basically what it says on the tin, I’m in a small rp server that has nothing to do with fandoms it’s just OCs, mostly dnd stuff. It’s just between me and a couple friends, there has been no serious drama whatsoever and it’s very nice!

We recently added a new member (I’ll call him Blue) who doesn’t have a lot of characters yet, but the handful he does have are… well. Practically all the same character. They have different backstories but all the same personality, which is to say they have none.

Every character of his is entirely neutral all the time, but not as some sort of comedy bit, just as… they are all very Prim And Proper, very intelligent, very unwilling to react to anything at all. No strong emotions about anything even when faced with something extreme like a villain or even a non-evil crazy event. We like to have fun and throw wild dangerous or just funny circumstances at our characters, yet his characters essentially always go 😐 “Well. That happened. Anyways.” And brush it all off… unless Blue thinks he can be The Savior of the day. But if he can’t just shut down the whole event, then his characters go back to being totally checked out and uncaring about any of it. He explains this saying that they’re all used to this kind of thing (though their backstories do say otherwise) and one of them is a god so he especially doesn’t need to react to things.

None of this is really the end of the world, it just makes interacting with his characters very difficult for me and a few others. For instance if I throw a villain in for the day, it’s… kinda hard to actually pose a threat when you have a handful of characters just standing there reacting like they’re on The Office. Similarly it’s harder to form emotional connections between characters if one oc pours their heart out and the other says “Well I’m sorry for your experiences” and brings nothing else to the table. There have been a couple instances as well where my friends and I worry that we’ve upset Blue with how our characters react, but like, if one of ours is a naturally rude and antagonistic person, they are going to be rude and antagonistic. Nobody else has a problem with this bc we all do it for variety and sometimes it’s fun to have a little oc drama! But Blue will have his characters react in a slightly guilt trippy way and then just go silent, sometimes explaining or even complaining out of character that their oc was Just Joking or similar. He hasn’t expressed being upset to us and nobody has had an argument about any of this, but the vibes end up feeling… off.

All of this just makes it hard to interact with Blue’s characters. They’re all The Same, they don’t really involve themselves with the rp in a way that garners reaction, and personally I overthink and worry about possibly upsetting him since we’ve all seen how weird things feel after 1 Antagonist Character says 1 Antagonistic Thing. So if I respond to his characters, I tend to respond more blandly than I do with others. Similarly, he has taken to proposing hypothetical ideas about rp and character interaction and then when I don’t immediately have a good response, he tags me and asks how my characters would react to his. I try my best to respond, really, but because there’s nothing there to bounce off of… it’s hard to come up with a good response! And if the response isn’t good enough Blue seems disappointed with it and just drops the whole idea altogether. This is mainly what fuels my anxiety about it, thinking that I’m not doing good enough while also not being given anything good to work with either.

To be clear I do not think he is being an asshole, At least not on purpose. I think there’s a lot of factors that could explain this and it’s honestly not a crime to just not be “good” at rp. What I’m wanting opinions on is should I be trying harder?? I worry that my effort has been affected by a growing distaste for his characters. He’s a lovely person, I have no beef with him lol, but I think it’s gotten clear that I respond more enthusiastically to the others. It’s not intentional, but it’s what happens bc I feel bad ignoring him altogether especially when he tags me specifically for a reaction. I also don’t know if the classic “omfg just communicate” response is very applicable because honestly I think I WOULD be the asshole for messaging him and saying “hey it’s not that I don’t like you it’s just that your characters are not fun to interact with, fix that!” Even in nicer terms than that haha cause in general offering unsolicited constructive criticism even with the kindest intentions is seen as a bad move.

So… AITA for not responding to Blue as much or as enthusiastically as I do for my other friends? Should I be faking it til I make it or does it not need to be an issue until it becomes one?

TLDR: new member of a small rp server joined and all his characters seem to have no personality and are all the same Perfect Intellectual type. There hasn’t been any serious problem but it is hard to interact with them and I am tending to lean toward bland responses bc I don’t feel like I have anything to work with here. Should I be trying harder or is it not a problem until it’s brought up?

What are these acronyms?

[a-bucket-in-the-void]

hello

i’m Oakley (or Bucket if you’d like) and i use he/him

i’m kinda just a dude on here

i reblog stuff from jrwi, hermitcraft, the life series, empires smp, rats smp, honestly anything you can think of that’s adjacent to hermitcraft, but what i’m really known for are my low effort shit posts. on a good day i can pop like fifteen of those out, each with two to five notes

um also i feel like i should say that i am definitely completely normal about skizzleman definitely

so anyway, stay if you’d like, honestly i don’t really care, unless you’re a cool mutual in law in which case i am super cool and awesome and you should totally follow me back :]

tagging system under the cut

now that i’m thinking about it it’s atrocious but i don’t really care enough to fix it unprompted so if you do care feel free to send me an ask about it (anon is always there if you need it)

#shouting into the void - id like to say this is my text tag but i really just use this whenever i make a post and it doesn’t contain art or an ask. under this you’ll find pretty much any kind of post under the sun as well as some pretty good shit posts buried under other not so good shit post

#showing the void my art - this would be my art tag, if i ever used it. please picture it covered in cob webs. under here are some of my doodles and now that i’m thinking about it i could probably tag my knitting progress under this as well

#the void talks back - this is my ask tag. under here is pretty much a bunch of me hanging out with my friends on here

and now for my less official tags that you still might want to know

#red dungeon - i play in a dnd campaign with a couple people on here. this is a communal tag for the campaign, so not just an original thing for me. not everything related to the campaign is tagged under this, it’s really just some more recent official posts

and speaking of…

#radio doe - this is my character for said campaign. like the other tag there’s not a whole lot under this but it’s there if you’d like to see it. also feel free to ask me about her or the campaign, i’d love to talk about it

um i also have another oc tagged with the ‘unwitness protection program’ if you’d like to go hunt for that but it’s really not properly tagged with anything

um also if like to say that i am very socially awkward so just uh yeah

if i interact with you and i seem a bit weird or off putting that’s probably why

semi related to that, sometimes i experience something i call ‘running out of words’ where i just am too tired to properly word things. sometimes that will take the form of mentioning things seemingly out of the blue or things that may seem kinda jarring to the conversation, some times that will take the form of just not talking at all or not having the words to express what i’m thinking. it’s just a thing that happens with me sometimes

uh i think that’s it

enjoy your stay i guess

[darksunradiance]

Howdy Tumblr! Ur local auDHD nonbinary menace here, drowning in debt and now needing to make some major repairs on my car, so I'm opening a variety of commissions! let me design your next tattoo, spruce up your favorite magic card, or draw your OCs 🏵️ more details below the cut!

Tattoo designs: all tattoo designs are done traditionally in black and white ink and will be sent to you digitally. If you wish to have the physical version, a small shipping fee will be added. My work has been tattooed on many people at this point and most artists find my style to be very easy to translate to skin.

MTG Alters: more information on my magic alters can be found at altersbyn8.carrd.co

Characters: all character drawings are done traditionally with pencil, ink, and alcohol based markers. They will be scanned and sent to you digitally. if you wish to have the physical version, a small shipping fee will be added. I do have some experience with simple digital color and if you are interested in that style let me know! I will do any OCs, especially DND/ttrpg or tarnished/video games pcs!

I can accept payment thru PayPal, Venmo, and Cash app. You can choose to pay in full before I begin, otherwise a 50% deposit will be required before I begin, and the remaining 50% will be paid at the "sketch" stage (if you've commissioned just a sketch, it will be due upon completion. if you've commissioned an ink or colored piece, it will be due before I begin the final inking/coloring process).

You can contact me here via dm, my Instagram , or email me at n8.lessly@gmail.com !

more examples of my work can be found at my portfolio or my art tag . Thanks for reading and sharing!

[camillathe6th]

OC Speech Mannerisms: TAKE TWO

I'm so sorry for this--we didn't need a third one, but I'm jumping on @punkranger's invitation and running with it. I won't tag people because at this point I'm just spamming, but if you're into it do it for your OWN (@/yugocar I saw you and I would like to see your OCs)

Anyway, this is my creature for a coming DnD campaign; his name is Astrit (you can call her Ass, Tits, Asstit, Asshole, Assface, Titbrain, you get me), they're a Yuan-ti and a Pact of the Fiend failcringe Warlock, and generally a jerk (they're a noble, of course they're a jerk) (sorry, was that biased?)

The art below is, of course, by Punk, whose art fucks all the way to the moon and you can find @punkrangerdraws

SER ASTRIT OF ESELEMAS

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3+ (Yuan-ti, Common, because they have to talk to COMMONERS, ugh, Draconic, Infernal)

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep (fairly mid and slinky, but liable to slide into high pitch when they throw a tantrum, which might be 75% of the time)

ACCENT: Yes / No (I mean. They hiss their s's, obviousssly.)

DEMEANOUR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other (haughty as fuck)

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed (very good, fencer training posture: straight-backed, high chin, wide stance, with a foot ready to slide perpendicularly at the drop of a hat. That's what an education GETS YOU @/ANGLER you pathetic los--)

HABITS: head tilting (up) / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips (and quickly at his rapier) / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact (aren't you going to lower your eyes in the face of the Slitherer Supreme's Ambassador amongst Wo/Men?) / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance (probably because you smell)

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤

EMOTION: ⬤⬤⬤⬤〇 (Oh he emotes alright. Much too much for a Snake, if you want her dad's opinion. And probably her god's opinion, if that guy wasn't busy having a life)

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤ (Please. They went to Snake School. They can syntax their way out of a sentence like they were born to it and it serves them never)

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⬤⬤〇〇〇 (they prefer scathing insults built on multi-syllable metaphors)

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⬤⬤〇〇〇 (points for creativity, but not for profanity)

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy. Coxcomb. Fopdoodle. Gutter-Bather. Slow-Wristed Knave.

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never (oh you'll hear and understand her (threat))

DOES YOUR CHARACTER'S INTENDED POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes??? / rarely / never (points lost because his party's cumulated INT points hover around a measly 8 and I'm second guessing the syntax answer rn)

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never (depends. Are you rich?)

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never. (You're DiSSSSmiSSSed!!!)

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE 'WHOM' IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically (of course because that's the only pronoun you should use when the relative pronoun is the object of the relative clause, were you raised in a BARN?)

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps/ mayhaps / are you STUPID???

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away (with an elegant swish of their capelet, bonus points if the capelet hits you in the face) / ask if that's everything / say that's everything (You're DiSSSSmiSSSed!!!) / give a proper goodbye (lmao no) / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don't.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower (almost as upper as the stick they got stuck from ass to skull)

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent (snobby, snakey) / vocabulary (flowery) / tone (haughty, usually mean) / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn't

[leighsartworks216]

Endings and Beginnings

Father-figure!Halsin & gn!OC

My first time writing Halsin and it's because I had this thought of him helping my dnd bard Rynd learn to accept death and moving on from the past. If you have any questions about Rynd, please do not hesitate to ask

@shenanigans-and-imagines You had to read this idea when I first had it, and now you get to read it come to fruition lol

Warnings: references to past abuse, depression, self-destructive behaviors, crying, animal death, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2,348

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The fire crackled late into the night, long past when it should have been reduced to embers. It chased away the darkness and radiated warmth, but its light hid the stars and illuminated decay.

Rynd turned their hands over in the firelight. How many times they'd done so was anybody's guess. They only stopped to throw more kindling in the flames when it began to die down. The irony of it wasn't lost on them; they destroyed themselves for months using necromancy to raise the dead, and now they refused to let the fire die, just so they could see the effect the dark magic had on their body.

They rubbed their fingertips together.

They remember visiting Astarion months back, desperate for the Necromancy of Thay. He'd smelled the rot then. He refused to hand over the book until they could explain why they needed it. They’d never been good at lying, so they told him: Now that they were free of the monastery, of the tadpoles - free to make their own choices, they wanted to find the parents that left them on that doorstep to begin with.

They asked everyone who could have an inkling of who their parents were. They even went back to the damned monastery to ask the monks that tortured and abused them what they knew, though they told Rynd nothing, merely cursed their existence as they always had. They searched everywhere for any hints of a Tiefling with blue skin like theirs, who had musical talents, who had white hair - any scrap of identity they could have shared with their parents.

When they could not find any hint they were alive, it seemed only natural to turn to darker magics.

The book had been a waste of time once Astarion reluctantly handed it over; nothing useful for their needs, just a lot of voices shouting in their head.

He must have told Gale. Or maybe Gale just knew. He was always better at magic than they were, always connected to the Weave. When they appeared on his doorstep, he lectured them for almost an hour about self-destruction. Once he calmed down, he finally let them inside.

He was right, of course. They were destroying themself and he knew how to spot it best after his own struggles.

Necromancy decayed the user. Weakened muscles and bone, left them ever fatigued and exhausted where no amount of sleep ever seems like enough, cut circulation from fingers and toes until they're left black and cold.

Gale had forced them to stay in his Tower until the long-term effects had lessened, until their fingers returned to a normal shade and they didn't look on the edge of death themself. Tara had been a great comfort, even if she would scold them just as much. When they were well enough, and anxious to get back on the road, Gale made them swear never to use necromancy spells ever again. Agreeing hurt more than letting the spells take their toll.

They turned their hands over again. Despite the blue tint of their skin now reaching to their fingertips, they remained cold and numb. It was harder to play their ocarina, but when had they last cared to play anyway? Music felt hollow. They felt hollow.

"You have been troubled from the moment you returned, little cub." A hulking figure, large but never intimidating to those who knew him, sat on the ground beside Rynd. Halsin held out a large handful of berries, contained in a handkerchief. All of their favorites. "I have not seen you eat or sleep. If you'll allow me, I would like to help you carry your burdens."

They stared at the berries for a long moment. When had they last cared to eat? When Gale cooked dinner for them, a few weeks ago? When did they forget the comfort of being able to eat when they wished; food that was not stale or moldy, but fresh and sweet?

They opened and closed their hands, stretching their fingers as though it would bring some feeling back to them. It didn't. They picked up each corner of the handkerchief, lifted the berries from his hand, and rested them in their lap where they grabbed a raspberry. They were fresh, of course. Halsin would only pick the best of the best for times like these. And that first bite - a shudder ran through their body, as though it was suddenly aware what it had been missing.

The tight knot around their heart, intricately woven and pulled taught, loosened ever so slightly. They leaned against Halsin, doing their best not to let their horns poke him. He didn't mind, he was used to dealing with Tieflings less considerate than them. Instead he wrapped an arm around them and pulled them closer. They closed their eyes, relaxed into the warmth he himself radiated in spirit as much as body, and slowly ate each berry one by one, until they were all gone and the sun was beginning to rise. They fell asleep with a sunbeam on their face.

-

Despite the comfort and food, when they awoke, tucked tenderly into their bedroll, it felt like nothing really changed. The sun shone brightly at its zenith high in the sky, but their mind was still so dark. The rampant thoughts that tore them down repeated over and over, cursing their very existence. They sat on the ground by a trail of ants and watched them march along, allowing the thoughts to consume them.

The children of the Grove no longer spoke to them. They begged Rynd to play every day, every hour of that first week. When there was never any response, they stopped asking. Now, they no longer came near.

Rynd had at first appreciated the isolation. Now they just wish they would ask again, even if the answer never changed.

They did not hear Halsin approach despite the scraping of his sandals over the dirt. They only noticed his presence when he lightly touched their shoulder. "Come. Let us go for a walk."

It wasn't a question, but their gut reaction told them to refuse. They clenched their hands into fists, fighting against the horrid weight dragging them down, the disparity of trying to do anything, and stood when they found a crack to break through. No matter how much they wanted to continue being alone, Halsin had always been a source of comfort and a force for good. Even if they couldn't help themself, he could find a way. They had to believe he could.

He smiled warmly. They did not feel it. He turned and led them into the woods.

They expected him to speak, to ask why they were so changed from the last time they visited. The fear that he would hung over their head like the axe of an executioner. How would they answer? Would they tell the truth or lie? What if he saw past the lie? What if Gale already told him? What if Astarion had told him? Would he ask them to leave? Their body was tainted with dark magic, surely he'd want them as far from the Grove as possible. Where would they even go? They just wanted to be alone. They just wanted to hide.

Some small part of them cringed at the thought. Isolation felt altogether safe and scary, their salvation and destruction. They didn't want to be alone. No, of course not. That's what had started this whole mess; being a lonely little orphan, trapped in their small room. Alone.

Halsin pointed out a patch of flowers growing in the shade of a sycamore tree. Rynd stared at them for a minute, thinking. They didn't know there were flowers who could grow so vivaciously in shade; the tree seemed to block the sun from every angle, preventing it from shining on most of it at any given time. For a flickering moment, their mind was not consumed with the journey to find their parents.

It reminded them of the monastery where they grew up. The big tree in the center of the courtyard that towered high above the walls, with brilliant white flowers that filled the air with the sweet fragrance of spring. When they were too small to lift themself up and see through the high window in their room, all they could do was look up at the tall branches. They’d yearned to sit under that tree, climb it, feel it and be at peace. The only times they’d ever gotten close, they’d snuck out of their room through secret passageways, but lingering meant getting caught, which meant being punished, so they never got to be around it for very long.

They loved that tree. But thinking of the monastery soured any positive thought they'd had. They could see now how terrible that place really was under the golden haze of naiveté. They grimaced as they continued to walk on.

Halsin led them along an invisible path through the trees and underbrush. If he had any thoughts about where he was taking them, Rynd couldn’t tell. For a while they’d stared straight ahead at his back. They were starting to regret coming along; they didn’t want to keep walking aimlessly through nature. All the life, the bustling world of bugs and birds… Maybe they should have gone to Baldur’s Gate instead, wallowed in Ramazith’s Tower with Rolan, Lia and Cal. Maybe there they would have found the strength to read or practice magic. (They wouldn’t have. Being so close to that much knowledge would have destroyed them.)

After quite some time, they gave in to their restlessness and looked around. Green leaves and dark bark - thrilling. They would have found it so, once upon a time. They’d loved finding books about flora during their time in the monastery. They would write countless notes on the shapes of the leaves, the types of sap and so on. Now it was just a cruel reminder of their failure.

They glanced at the ground as they passed a large oak tree and stopped in their tracks. There, curled up by the thick roots and hidden under a leafy plant, was a little mouse. They watched it for a moment, but they knew. They’d surrounded themself with death for months. They knew.

Rynd knelt down in the dirt and instinctively reached out a hand, hovering it over the tiny creature. But then they stopped. They did nothing. They promised Gale they’d not use necromancy spells ever again, but… Why did this mouse deserve to die? Why should this creature pass away into obscurity? It had lived a life, too; maybe it had a family nearby, waiting for it to come home. The thought made their heart ache, the knot in their chest tightening ever more.

But they couldn’t. They promised Gale.

Their hand hovered a moment longer still, beginning to shake before they finally dropped it to their lap. Just one spell and it would be able to scamper off. But even they knew it was one spell too many.

The mouse’s fur was white. Pure. No blood. The only dirt that could be found stained its little paws. They wondered when it died. If it was sudden or slow. It was curled up like a fetus, tail pulled toward its chest. Its pink ears seemed to stand to attention, like it was still listening to the world around it. They could almost imagine it was just sleeping.

The large druid knelt down beside Rynd, hands resting on his thighs as he took in the dead mouse and the Tiefling that mourned it. It was the first thing he’d noticed Rynd take an interest in this entire trip. And slowly the pieces started to fit together.

Despite the somber mood, he wore a soft grin as he quietly dug a small hole. He piled up all the dirt next to it, working to ensure it was deep enough for the little thing to fit inside. After all his years as a druid, it still amazed him how tiny nature could be.

Rynd watched wordlessly as he delicately scooped up the mouse in his large hands. It limply followed every slight jostle. He was careful as he laid it down on a leaf.

Rynd’s eyes burned. Their lungs felt tight in their chest.

Halsin picked up the leaf by its pointed tip and its stem, and he lowered it into the hole he made. “May the winds carry your legends forward, and the spring flowers blossom with the same richness and beauty as the life you’ve lived,” he prayed quietly. He heard Rynd sniffle beside him, but he gave them what privacy he could as he began pushing the dirt back into the hole. The mouse and leaf would decay and be returned to the soil, becoming nutrients for the large oak, so that it may continue to live on and provide homes and nourishment to thousands more creatures just like it. This was merely the next step in the never-ending cycle of life.

Before he could push the last pile of dirt onto the pile, smaller hands intervened. They tenderly guided the soil to its place, forming a small mound over the little body. A little grave. Gods, how many graves had they seen? How many had they walked over, desperately searching for any hint of familiarity? None of the headstones or mausoleums had stirred any reaction in them. Now, tears seemed to fall endlessly for a life so small.

They sniffled and gasped around their sobs, muffled by habit more than a conscious effort. Halsin touched their shoulder. In a heartbeat, they were clinging to him, trying to wrap their arms around his hulking frame as they pressed their face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around them, rubbing their back and gently massaging their scalp, combing his large fingers through their unruly curls. “Release your emotions, little cub. You do not have to hide them anymore. You can let go.”

The knot around their heart unraveled.

[izar-tarazed]

Welcome!

What this is: This blog is mostly dedicated to my Elden Ring OC Izar (and well, her companion Ensha – more about them below). There might also be other content (other games, DnD 5e, writing) unless I’ll feel the need to create specific sideblogs for that (unlikely, I lack the energy).

What I do: I’ll mostly share screenshots, headcanons, storytelling, and writing snippets. (Here's my tag list!) While this is not a pure RP blog I very much enjoy RPing, so feel free to shoot me a prompt/starter whenever you like! (For more information regarding RP, flip through the Stargazer's Cookbook over here!)

Who I am: You can call me Zari. I’m over 30, she/her. Not a native English speaker, so bear with me if I say strange things. Expect occasional ramblings about the glory of freelance life, and know that there is never enough coffee.

Izar Tarazed, Tarnished Astrologer

Izar barely remembers anything from the time before her awakening in the Lands Between – just her name and what she knew of the stars. However, the stars above the Lands Between are different, their lore mostly lost to her, so she gathers stories and bits of information wherever she can.

Her most treasured possessions are her telescope and her map-making tools.

Whenever she gets the chance, Izar will sit and work on her celestial maps, preferably beneath the golden light of grace, trying to figure out constellations and their possible meanings. Working on her maps also calms her down and helps her focus.

She’s often more driven by her astrological curiosity than by the ambition to become Elden Lord – she’ll confront Rennala mainly because she wants access to the library of Raya Lucaria, and Radahn because she wishes to set the stars back in motion.

Izar relies mostly on her sorceries – the Comet and Night Comet are her favorites – and only starts improving her skills with melee weapons and a shield when Ensha insists on teaching her.

Personality

Izar is a little geek when it comes to astrology and will talk about it with neverending enthusiasm. At a new place, its (potential) view of the night sky is usually the first thing she’ll check.

She values the friendships and alliances she makes, being protective of those she cares about; that might be both her greatest strength and her greatest weakness.

Upon meeting someone for the first time, she'll rather be calm and cautious, but much more confident, cheeky and bubbly once she feels comfortable.

The fact that she doesn’t remember who she was before bothers her more than she lets on.

Izar soon realizes that she isn't as ambitious about taking the Elden Throne as she maybe should be. Her true dream is running the Academy of Raya Lucaria and turning it into a welcoming place where knowledge is not hoarded but shared.

When upset, she can be pretty defiant, sarcastic and snappy.

Sir, That’s My Emotional Support Skeleton

Izar spares Ensha’s life when he attacks her at the Roundtable Hold.

This leads to them being sent out on a mission together to track down Latenna (which, of course, doesn’t go as planned). While they start out deeply suspicious of each other, teaming up only reluctantly, they eventually come to trust each other and, despite some challenges, become close friends, which leads to certain tensions considering his loyalty to Sir Gideon.

(I’m not entirely sure what Ensha is, but I’m leaning way more into the headcanons of the somehow animated armor/actual skeleton with some kind of relation to the ancient king mentioned in the description of the Royal Remains set, rather than just being some guy with a skull mask.)

Ensha will often travel with Izar, having her back and finding picturesque dungeon walls to lean against and ponder how on earth this careless astrologer can still be alive. (He's exaggerating, of course. Izar can definitely handle herself ... most of the time.)

Ensha tends to be more wary of others than Izar is. He's extremely perceptive and quite good at reading people (and finding things). He often encourages Izar to put in the work to improve her skills, and be more disciplined about her goals. However, he's also surprisingly fine with engaging in all kinds of mischievous shenanigans with her.

Since Ensha doesn’t speak, their communication process is a little rocky at first but improves once Izar gets better (and eventually good) at understanding his sign language. From then on, they'll often have some partially silent banter going on, and are able to communicate subtly if the situation calls for it.

Izar is also able to sense Ensha's emotions to a certain extent (more on that headcanon here).