#he who was x tav

[leopardmuffinxo]

you will quiver and shake and whisper my name like a fervent prayer

[swordmaid]

back to the shadows 🌑

inspired by the storm by pierre auguste cot, shri’iia and astarion running away from the sun bc he’s a vampire and she has sunlight sensitivity.

please zoom in to see the details! 🥹🫶

[catsharky]

Yeah I was right and there was no way I was getting the rest of this done without making you all wait another month or two, so I just went to the next good break point. We're officially past the halfway point with Astarion though, so not too much longer before you actually get to see Rolan again!

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Full page format under the cut:

[ahjiing]

🥺🥺🥺🥺

[dekariosclan]

Imagine Gale as a talented and impressive young man, able to compose the Weave at will, skilled in a way that few can match, and favored by the Goddess of Magic herself. Imagine that because of these accomplishments, he’s caught the eye of a few up-and-coming magic adepts, and he falls in love with one of them—his first real love. Gale isn’t one to toss the ‘L’ word around lightly, so when he tells them he loves them, he means it; he gives himself over to them completely.

And in return, they love him for his potential. For his status. For the magic he can command. They love the wizard they see on the surface, but not the man underneath. They are attracted to his power, but not to him.

So of course the relationship fails, after the thrill of his magic wears off. But because Gale is a resilient young man and he’s caught the eye of so many, he soon falls in love with another.

And then it happens again. And again.

And each time Gale’s heart is ravaged, his ambition to become a better wizard grows, because he’s being shown time and time again that his magic ability is all that matters.

So much so that, by the time Mystra decides to elevate him from Favored to Chosen to Lover, he welcomes her with eager, desperate arms. Because if all his worth is in his magic, and that’s all he has to offer, and that’s all anyone wants from him, who better to love him than the Goddess of Magic herself?

Except…there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head that whispers she doesn’t really love him. There’s anxiety in his heart as time passes, and he reaches both the limit of what his talents can do and what Mystra will allow him to do. And most troubling of all: a growing panic that, just like his other lovers, she will soon grow tired of him and discard him if he can’t improve his magic any further.

He tries pouting, and pleading, and begging her to let him take more power, to let him be more for her, but she refuses. Smiles patronizingly. Tells him to be patient. But Gale can’t be patient when his power is tied so closely to his self-worth; he can’t be patient when doing so in the past has only ever lead to heartache.

So he does what he believes will be a Grand Romantic Gesture, one that will finally put him on equal footing with the woman he loves. Instead, it turns out to be a folly that dooms him and destroys his talents. And just as he’d always feared, Mystra tosses him aside the moment his magical gifts are gone—because what’s left of him holds no value for her.

————

Imagine Gale in his tower, alone, afraid, the ever-hungry orb in his chest, with only his tressym there to help him. No other friends to speak of. His colleagues forced to keep away for their own safety. His magical talents utterly stripped down, so that even when he does try and distract himself with illusions, he’s bitterly reminded of what he used to be capable of. Waking every morning wondering if it will be his last, ending every day full of loneliness and disappointment.

…and then he meets Tav.

At the lowest point in his life, at his most vulnerable, when he knows he’s going to be considered a burden, he meets this stranger and their group. So he does what he can to be useful—assigning himself to be camp cook, offering up his (now meager) magic skills, turning the charm up to 11—as he desperately hopes this will somehow work out. He’s pleasantly surprised when, after providing only minor details of his condition, Tav agrees to help him. He’s even more surprised when they actually follow through.

Imagine how Gale feels as Tav treats him kindly. As he grows to trust Tav, and then grows to like them. Imagine his surprise as he opens up and shows them more and more of himself, and they don’t turn him away.

But then his condition worsens. And he has to reveal everything: the foolish mistakes he’s made, and how dangerous he is as a result. He clings to Tav’s hand as he shows them his folly. He’s at their mercy now, and he knows this might be the last time he’ll ever feel the touch of another being, if they decide—and Gods, why wouldn’t they decide?—to cast him out.

…but they don’t. They don’t. Instead, they tell him to stay.

Imagine the relief Gale feels. The gratitude. And perhaps…just a hint of something more. Something that he dare not name, but that flares to life every time he thinks of how warm their hand was in his. Something that feels dangerously close to jealousy, when he’s had too much to drink and sees Tav smiling at another…

But he knows these are all foolish thoughts, because he has nothing to offer Tav. They are wonderful just as they are, but he…he is an empty shell of a man, a discarded husk of a wizard, and while they might tolerate him, he could never believe they might actually want him.

And besides, he still thinks of Mystra. He still longs for Mystra. She who cast him out, but to whom he still feels tethered. Sometimes he needs to cocoon himself in the weave, just to try and calm his fears and bring some joy back to his life, because magic is his life. And sometimes he just needs to see her face, even though that hurts as much as it heals.

One night he’s lost in thought, having conjured Mysta’s image after settling down at camp. Thinking that even if she hadn’t ‘loved’ him—certainly not in the way he’d loved her—she’d given him enough otherwise, hadn’t she? She’d amused him and been amused by him, they’d shared countless pleasures, why hadn’t he been satisfied with that?

Gale is so lost in thought he doesn’t realize Tav has come up behind him. Until they ask a question, startling him out of his trance. He’s a bit shaken, so he tries to turn the conversation from Mystra to the weave itself. And then a wonderful idea occurs to him, something that he’d been toying with already: what if they were to conjure the weave together?

He can show Tav how important magic is to him, let them experience what he does, perhaps even impress them a bit. But most importantly, share a moment with them. As friends would do…

He’s elated when Tav agrees. He leads them through the steps effortlessly, and they’re a surprisingly good student, following his instructions correctly (if a bit clumsily). He’s as excited as they are—perhaps even more so!—when they succeed in channeling the weave.

It’s such a pleasant, familiar feeling for him, like coming home to his tower in Waterdeep. Even as the weave connects him with Tav and makes them one, he’s easily able to hide his innermost thoughts, because he’s done it so many times before.

…but he’s forgotten that Tav has not.

————

Imagine Gale knowing every romantic partner he ever had only wanted him because of how he could raise their status, or how he could amuse them, or how he could command magic for them. And, each time, he was happy to oblige them, even desperate to oblige them, because if that was the price of their love, then he was sure it would be worth it.

But it still all came to nothing.

Now imagine Gale connected in an intimate way with someone he likes very, very much—while being what he considers his lowest, most worthless, and most humbled self. As far from the powerful, impressive wizard he once was as he could ever be. And suddenly a vision enters his mind from the lovely creature standing next to him. Only, to his complete and utter shock, it isn’t one where he is providing them with a service, or wowing them with his magical ability, or granting them some kind of power from one of the spells he commands.

Instead, when he sees their desire laid bare before him, it’s a vision of kissing him. Of holding his hand. The two most basic forms of affection and physical connection. The two things that he would still be able to offer them even if every last ounce of his remaining magical abilities were stripped from him. The two things he could share with them even if he was no longer Gale of Waterdeep, and just plain old Gale Dekarios instead.

Imagine the embarrassment and trepidation he feels at first, because surely he is mistaken?…and then the elation when he realizes that he is not. So much elation that his concentration is broken, the weave dissipating as he forgets about channeling it, as he forgets about Mystra. Because all that matters to him now is the image before him—the most pleasant and welcome image he’s seen in a very, very long time.

Imagine how that would feel…and how besotted, enamored and completely devoted he’d be to Tav afterwards. To know that someone finally—finally—just wants him.

Just imagine.

[voltaical-art]

whadya mean he didnt tell you he loves you??? his eyes literally went soft when he looked ur way...

[demiesop]

never gonna let you go~ (literally)

[cherriesandsulphur]

"A saviour? That's for certain."

[everchased]

so, Astarion and Finch. which one of them watches the other fight and thinks "that's so hot"?

finch finds astarion's skill and deftness with a blade VERY sexy admirable but i think the person who has that immediate "HOT" moment is astarion himself.

there is probably something immediately attractive to astarion "technically not a murderhobo but only because he dresses nice" ancunin about seeing a man who (for the most part) tries to favor persuasion decide that a situation is bad enough to call for killing someone

and swiftly, effectively, and mercilessly

following through with that decision.

[a2zillustration]

Part 2 of 2

Thanks for tossing me the ball on this one Larian I am now running with it at mach speeds.

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[saturdaysky]

You may resist, but it's too late. You already embraced the powers the parasite gave you. You leveraged them to manipulate, to dominate, to survive. Your nature is no longer your own.

Mayhew failed the save to resist the Emperor's offer, and I have never been more pleased at a consequence! What an amazing moment.

Timelapse, line drawing, and character musing beneath the cut.

This choice!! Or rather, this lack of choice!

I love, love, love how failing the save made Mayhew's own will ambiguous, even to himself. He didn't want to be changed, he didn't want to forfeit his humanity (gnomanity)...or did he? He resisted. He opened his mouth to say I will not, but the door to his mind was already unlocked, power welcomed in. Mayhew will never know who unlatched it.

Also, while this is a Gale run -- Mayhew and Gale make each other worse in the most devoted, well-meaning way; the heavens will rue their names -- it also kind of feels like an Emperor run. A subtextual badwrong not-romance.

The Emperor and Mayhew are allies of circumstance turned intimate enemies. The Emperor listens to Mayhew's every thought, gives protection which Mayhew needs, offers advice and temptations which Mayhew takes. Mayhew likes the Dream Guardian; Mayhew cannot shut the Emperor out. Mayhew would see the Emperor dead, if he let himself think about it, but he would miss him after he was gone. And, of course, Mayhew is too curious for his own good, and the Emperor is full of answers.

For the two of them, partial ceremorphosis is a kind of consummation: what could be more intimate than shaping someone from within and without? Metaphorphosis is a gift, by one telling, and a horror story by another.

You are exquisite, the Emperor praised. Mayhew will never know if he became so by his own will.

(He failed the save by one (1) point.)

---

Timelapse! It includes all the silly things I drew for my friends, including: 1 tonsure, 3 neon signs, 2 cat emoji, 1 crotch face, and the emperor's armor drawn with my left hand. Spot them all!

Lines!

I don't usually work primarily with line, but I love it. In some ways, it's easier than painting, and in other ways much harder. I find I can't fudge things as much with linework as I can with paint; because the stroke is smaller, I have to be more specific. Even if I abstract details away, I need to understand the underlying form until I know what I am abstracting. It was fun having to be so rigorous.

[leopardmuffinxo]

match my freak

[bxttxrflybxddie]

Kinktober Day 1: Dirty Talk - Rolan

a/n: yippee first time actually doing a kinktober!! this kinda turned into praise but f it we ball

pairing: rolan x gn! reader

word count: 0.8k

warnings: MINORS/AGELESS DNI I BLOCK ON SIGHT!!!!!! unedited, a hint of breeding towards the end, unprotected, not specific genitalia for reader, dom reader, rolan cries but it doesn't hurt, bites, someone tell this tiefling I'm obsessed with him, reader calls rolan baby btw

One of Rolan’s favorite aspects about you is your voice. 

Ever since meeting you at the grove, your voice has been playing in his head- repeating a constant harmonious tune. The way words rolled off your tongue was enchanting, he was sure you must’ve permanently charmed him. Despite his hurtful beratement in the shadowlands, you’ve continued to be a friend to him and his family. Including saving his siblings and helping defeat his previous master. When you approached him shortly after saving Baldur’s Gate asking for a place to stay, he was thrilled to welcome you as the newest addition to the tower. Not only was he excited for your presence but also to hear your music daily.

Some of his prized memories of your voice have been your first meeting where you cut into his and his siblings’ argument conversation, questioning his plans for the tower, and agreeing to have him be yours.

However, His most beloved melody from your voice is here and now. “You like it when I fuck you like that, Master?”

The wizard would answer obediently whilst on his knees, feeling you up from below and thanking you for indulging him tonight. Alas, you’ve ridden him so long to the point of overstimulation that he can say little but moan in response. 

Suddenly, you grip his jaw and force him to look at you, minding the bruises and bites littered around his neck. He’s pulled into a kiss while you shift your weight for support. He can feel your teeth pulling at his lip, and he’d almost feel worthy of an apology if his nails weren’t digging into the plush of your thighs. You pull away with a thin string of spit.

“This is what you’ve needed, right baby? To be taken care of?” You ask him between your groans. A particularly hard thrust against him knocks a sense of clarity into your Rolan, if only for a second.

“G-Gods, yes!” He manages to reply. It’s been stressful as of late, dealing with the intricacies of the tower. There’s no where else he’d want to be, especially with you, but it’s been a heavy weight to carry nonetheless. When you agreed to let him do nothing but lay back and listen to you, he just about came then and there. Thank the Gods he didn’t, this moment is perfection.

Your hands snake their way back against his chest, helping you push yourself off and on against him.

“You are so handsome, you know that? I love it when you look like this, debauched.” His ears burn until they’re numb, on nights when you bed him you’ve made it clear how attractive you find him. He didn’t think that tonight would’ve been one of those nights as well. Obviously, he was mistaken.

“Answer me.” You purr, slowing your pace to a stop, his throbbing cock nestled deep inside you.

“Y-yes, yes gods- please!” He sputters out, tears threatening to spill from the sudden lack of vigorous movement. You lean down again and kiss the cusp of his ear, biting gently as your speed returns, but not to the same as before. He moans as chills spread against his skin; bringing his nipples to a peak.

“Say it. Say you’re handsome. I’ve seen how you’ve looked at yourself today, looked at what’s mine.” You roll your hips against him with the last word falling from your lips, drawing emphasis. You were not going to accept your love thinking of himself however low he was today, not with the beautiful sight under you currently. His hair stuck to his forehead and horns from sweat, purple blooming on his neck and collarbone, and golden eyes that can barely hold your loving stare.

“I’m handsome..” “Louder.”

“I-I’m,” the tears from earlier have began to fall.”I’m handsome.”

You move your hips to the pace matching his volume. Rolan’s jaw drops with a whine as he realizes what you’re up to.

“You’re what, baby?” “Handsome! Zurgan- I’m handsome just p-please..” 

“That’s right, and all mine.” With your grace, you return to your previous pace- if not more unrelenting. 

Rolan shakes, and you know exactly what it means. A sob from his lips confirm your suspicions.

“Are you going to cum in me, Master? Fill me, claim me as yours?” Rolan can only whimper in agreement, his hands moving to rest on your waist as you brutally fuck yourself on him- chasing after his orgasm. 

The wizard shakes, a degenerate moan filling the room as well as skin slapping skin. Warmth floods your senses as you ride out the last few twitches of his cock, your own pleasured noises accompaning his. 

“That’s it, there you go, baby.” You mutter. His head falls back on the pillows, his throat stretched as he cries throughout the rest of his orgasm. 

After plenty of deep breaths from you both, you shift your weight off of your love and curl up next to him. You invite him into a conversation about his current state of mind before sharing “I love yous” and falling into a satisfying sleep.

© BXTTXRFLYBXDDIE

[amorgansgal]

I'm always struck by how people seem to think that Gale wouldn't find a regular person (whether they could do magic or not) boring and incomparible to Mystra. I think it's precisely because they aren't extraordinary in the grand scheme of things that makes them extraordinary and wondrous to Gale, especially if they loved him. So here's a little fanfiction piece exploring that! Tis a wee bit smutty, so the more smutty stuff is under the cut!

Perfectly Imperfect

What could compare to the divine? To the goddess of magic herself who could conjure any thought or desire or fantasy and make it so real? Well Gale is pleased to find you can and it’s strangely the things that make you so mortal, so ordinary, that drives him mad with desire. It’s the smell of you, the richest of scents that could never be created so precisely, he’d know if it was wrong or just a little off. It was that intoxicating scent of a little sweat from a passionate rush to bed, the clean smell of water and bath salts or soap still lingering on your skin, and something so wholly you he cannot think of a way to describe it. Comfort? Sweetness? Home?

The smell of desire as his hand skimmed down your waist, teased you until you begged and pleaded with him to give you more, the warm rush against his fingers and the sweet tang when he placed them in his mouth or pressed his tongue against you and watched your back and hips arch off the bed. 

It was how you looked, eyes fluttering close when he claimed you, mouth dropped open - a silent ‘o’ of bliss and pleasure - followed by a heady little gasp that he would seal with a kiss and he felt your eager hands grip tightly onto him. His back, his arms, his waist, as though you wanted to touch every inch of him and it was knowing that you couldn’t, even though you were desperate to do so, that sent a shiver of desire coursing through him. Somehow not having everything, of being restrained by mortal physicality, is the most delicious, beautiful, wondrous thing in the world. It’s a rare thing for him to not think of magic, but it’s too easy to forget it when he tumbled you into bed and you both spent hours seeking out each other’s pleasure. 

It felt better this way, like he knew you more than he knew his own goddess all those years ago. A few months with you and he had figured out that spot behind your ear, on your neck, that made your knees weak and how easily it was to wrap an arm around your waist when they were, turning you to him so he could kiss you. How there was a spot on your belly that would make you laugh and push his hand away, because it was so sensitive and you would wriggle half way across the bed, before he had pulled you back, promising never to touch it again (maybe)! How there was a discoloured mark on one of your thighs, whether a birthmark or from a fight he hadn’t quite figured out, but how you loved having it kissed and he loved trailing kisses up your thigh, going higher and higher, closer and closer, until you outright demanded he stopped teasing you. And he did, always, even when he had intentions to do otherwise, because he couldn’t say no to you. 

It sent his heart galloping away and made blood rush to his head and made it so that he couldn’t look away, whether you were lying in bed with him buried inside you, or reading a book in the library, or sipping tea out on his favourite balcony and admiring the view, the mortal with all their flyaway hairs, with a small stain on their shirt and a bit of dirt caught under nails was so utterly perfectly imperfect, how could Gale not love you?

[its-pip-art]

Okay so, I never got the whole Rolan discourse when everyone started going insane about him, I was like, what that bitch from the Grove that shows up in the Lower City? Really?

What I didn’t know was that I wasn’t doing anything properly on my first few playthroughs and this time I made him stay in the Grove and I’ve just bumped into him at Last Light and he’s stood with his back to my Tav just ignoring me and drinking and suddenly I’m like ????????? Step on me, pls????????

And I then reunited him with his siblings and he’s just so HANDSOME?

I get it now. I fucking get it.

[dekariosclan]

Having watched Gale’s ‘Evil Ending’, read a few spicy takes, and thought about it for a bit, I just want to point something out: every time Gale has any interactions with the Heavens/Elysium/The Gods, be it in-game or as an alternate ending, it’s not good for him, and he’s never truly happy.

Of course the Evil ending is the most extreme version with him straight up hating the Gods and waging war, but in addition, there’s also:

Gale having suffered during his time in Elysium as Mystra’s plaything Chosen

Gale becoming God of Ambition, but losing his family/ Tav

Gale becoming God of Ambition and ascending Tav, but him still being insecure/unsatisfied with himself, and possibly destroying the Pantheon

Gale dying from attempting to be a God and failing to dethrone Mystra

Gale dying after following Mystra’s orders to detonate the orb (causing many to suffer if done in Act 2, the very thing Gale NEVER wanted to happen)

Gale becoming Illithid and then being taken to Elysium with Mystra, in a scene which has which has chemistry lower than the Mariana trench and is possibly the unsexiest thing I have ever seen

So, when people say that Gale should forgive Mystra, become her Chosen again (which is spoken about on the docks in the ending where he returns the Crown to Mystra), and that the Evil Ending shows this is a ‘good’ thing…I’m not seeing it.

In contrast, I could talk about the ending where he leaves the Crown in the river, the orb remains in his chest, and how that works out great—he’s not beholden to Mystra, he’s happy and satisfied with himself/Tav/his life which results in the orb being dormant, then later Mystra cures the damn thing permanently anyway, AND he gets to have a cool scar that keeps his students in check, and also definitely lights up when he’s horny for Tav, etc. etc.

But I’m gonna go one step further and talk about what happens when Gale goes to Hell. Yes, Hell. Literal, actual Hell, the farthest place from Heaven, which is what happens when he is romanced by origin Karlach and he goes with her to Avernus.

Remember how every iteration of Gale in Heaven results in him being unhappy in some way? Here’s Gale in Hell with his beloved Karlach:

He is happy as a clam!

Tara visits them frequently!

There’s even a f*cking bookstore!

In Conclusion:

If you want Gale to be truly happy, KEEP HIM AWAY FROM THE GODS.