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@kintheartist
i’m alive, trying to fight the horrors with cozy and whimsy, so pombon 🧡
What, you thought I wouldn’t revive my blog after like a year just for the new goobers on flight rising? well here I am
I decided to do a lil pop-up shop with doodles like these lol
What, you thought I wouldn’t revive my blog after like a year just for the new goobers on flight rising? well here I am
Help, I'm working on a sunset lily dragon and can't decide if I should go with a graceful lovely winged design or a more goobery crustacean. Which would you pick?
(The stamens look so much like eyestalks to me I couldn't help trying the crabby idea and now I cannot be objective)
Help, I'm working on a sunset lily dragon and can't decide if I should go with a graceful lovely winged design or a more goobery crustacean. Which would you pick?
(The stamens look so much like eyestalks to me I couldn't help trying the crabby idea and now I cannot be objective)
btw I'm on bsky, pretty much have ditched twitter. please follow me there! <3
My roommate decided that her Hawke makes loud sounds with any item in arm's reach whenever Sebastian tries to talk to the elves
My roommate decided that her Hawke makes loud sounds with any item in arm's reach whenever Sebastian tries to talk to the elves
Rook de Riva, Lord of Chaos in Antiva
Rook de Riva, Lord of Chaos in Antiva
Trying to recuperate from this week… thought maybe I would introduce my Rook.
I am spending so much of my playtime in photo mode staring at the beautiful details in the environment and prop design. Look at all the crow and feather motifs in Treviso...
The difference the years make...
Can't give him an eyepatch or anything so just fucked with his eye instead. I miss his bun so much
haven't drawn him happy in so long...
Here, actually, I'll post a little snippet of a Swan/Dorian drabble I was working on. As a treat.
There’s a sharp intake of breath, the sound of metal-laced footsteps, and warm hands take his face, fluttering over his skin.
“Amatus,” Dorian breathes, pitched up in worry. His fingers comb restlessly through the downy crop across Swan’s scalp. “You cut your hair!”
Swan just sways there. No words could express the breadth of his emotions. Relief, to see his love--revulsion, as well. Shame. Confusion. And grief, always grief.
He can hear Varric ushering people--and Hawke’s mabari--out of the room, and the muffle of their voices after the door is dragged shut. Dorian’s anxiety continues to grow, but his magister sensibilities have begun to check his behavior. Fingers trembling lightly, he steps back, taking Swan’s hands in his own. When he brings them to his mouth to kiss them, a wave of grief crashes into Swan at the memories this simple action brings back. All those times, all those kisses. It feels a hundred years gone, though it’s only been a matter of months.
He’s no longer the person he was then.
Perhaps Dorian can see it in his eyes, then, because he pulls Swan tightly into his arms. His voice is raw as he repeats over and over-- “Amatus, amatus...”
I'm slowly falling back into dragon age hell, oh god
Words can't do justice to how surreal and amazing this month has been. To everyone who has supported the Floral Dragons: I am beyond grateful. It's easy to feel discouraged and undervalued as an artist in recent times, so the excitement around this project I poured my heart into has truly been transformative.
My goal has always been to make people happy with my art, and it feels like my dreams are coming true. I hope that you will all continue to share your ideas and the campaigns you want to run, and that the dragons will bring as much joy to your tables as you have given me.
Thank you.