I Write Things Sometimes

Kind of, sort of.

Your reward in advance are these screenshots of Rolan being cute

I'm slowly working on the next chapter and trying to make myself be happy with what I've written so far. In the meantime, have a preview.

(With bonus Astarion being Astarion)

Anyway, have some Aya shots that I took (I was messing around with different outfits). I only have a PS5 so I’m very limited in appearance mods (I do my best but I always feel they’ll never be as good as the shots people get with a PC).

Aya is older than Rolan by several years, but because he’s, well, Rolan, she likes to tease him and call him an “old man.”

The first time she said that, he just glared at her and said, “Are you calling me old? You’re older than me.”

Aya shrugged and told him, “I’m part elf, we age differently.”

Of course, from then on, Aya finds any excuse to call him old. And because he’s, well, Rolan, he of course has to prove to her how young and spry and virile he still is.

You’ll get partnered up with someone, and when one of you needs to write/draw/sew/clean/etc. the other will pester you/poke you with a stick/shake a can of pennies until you do the thing. And vice versa.

Link to the questions here.

(Sorry for doing this a few days late ANYWAY. And sorry my tav is boring.)

(7). Who is your OC's best or closest friend?

Before getting captured, Aya didn't really have good friends in Baldur's Gate. After the events of the game, Aya considers Shadowheart one of her best friends.

(12). What class is your OC? What’s their subclass?

Uuuuuuuuh, tbh I don't really know haha. Unfortunately I'm not much of a DnD person so it's not something I've really thought about. I did a quick Google search and for now I guess I would say Bard in the College of Dance?

(21). What is your OC's alignment?

Probably Neutral Good?

(23). What color do you associate with your OC? What’s their favorite color?

I’ve been working on a few things, but I’ve been having trouble writing lately, so maybe posting WIPs will help me get motivated again.

Anyway, have some RolanxAya!

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Long fingers clamped around her wrist.

Aya froze.

Electricity shot up her arm at the contact, her pulse jumping beneath his grip. Her breath caught, the sensation immediate and startling, far too intense for such a simple touch.

"Aya." Rolan's voice was low, rough, his anger dropping it down an octave. She hadn't expected her name to sound like that: quiet, deliberate, stripped of the argument entirely. The word sent a jolt through her thighs.

Rolan used his grip on Aya's wrist to push her backward, stepping closer until her back hit the wall. The cool wood pressed against her spine, sending a slow shiver through her as he moved closer. She could feel his chest rise and fall, the movement brushing against her with every breath, and she had the disorienting sense that she couldn't quite remember what they had been arguing about.