#ahhhhh.

my fav is Sheba but like i lwk need to draw her perfectly

this was made a few months back but i wanted to bring it back since its winter! 🍁❄️

I’m writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you’ll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear.

I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you.

I will find you soon.

Yours, Dorian.

The letter a romanced Dorian writes in Veilguard is genuinely overwhelmingly wonderful for him.

In Inquisition, we knew him to be a man to both deflect and dismiss, hesitant to drop his walls in fear of looming disappointment. He can love, of course, and he can fall very, very hard in spite of his worries (and he'd resented this, of course), but I think fully letting go to feel kept and safe? That takes time. And so, it did. What helped were those moment with his lover, the affection proud, unabashed, and dizzyingly mutual. He had thought public displays 'trite', sure, and had, to some extent, feared hearing 'I love you' thinking it'd be the last, but year after year of being treated like the one? It softened him. Really softened him, actually. And after some time, he managed to grow, be confident, and say it in turn.

It shows a great arc for Dorian who has managed, with persistence and a tremendous deal of faith, to work through both his insecurities and baggage.