#i find my tav going

[fandomfloozy]

[walks on stage]

[into microphone] I'm so sorry if this lets people down or disillusions anyone to me, but I am now in my Gale apologist era. Thank you very much

[the crowd erupts in boos, tomato, tomato]

[has to be escorted off stage]

[peoneys]

‘what have you done to me ?!’

getting back awareness after decades of being under compulsion might not feel too good

[shewolfofvilnius]

Dark Urge Tavaria x Enver Gortash

The Lash of Bhaal and the Edict of Bane (now with a prologue fic!)

[thewardenisonthecase]

im not going to find it now, but @/v-arbellanaris post on the themes of identity loss in DAI are not that well handled because the inquisitior is not allowed to have an identity TO BEGIN with due to how centrist this game is is always on my mind.

Because like, everytime i see people talking about this big theme around the inquisitor i cant help but feel like i played a different game. I felt so disconnected from the inquisitor because I had no idea who they were. Like, they felt too much like a blank slate. DAO and DA2 both gave you established backstories of which you could build your character around, but DAI felt like I needed to work it from the ground up. I remember the first time i got that convo with Josie, in Haven, where you can establish some stuff, I felt almost weirded out because I was suddenly being told things about this character that I knew nothing about and now i had to establish things? It was confusing and I didn't even KNOW what to pick. And I played the games in order, so for it was extremely JARRING to jump from warden to hawke to inquisitor. So much so that it took 3 tries, with 3 different characters until I finally landed on one that I felt like i could work with, because until then, I couldn't figure out who the fuck my inquisitor was supposed to be.

And its really, REALLY hard to have a theme of you're losing your identity when you don't have one. I almost feel like there should have been two games - one where you deal maybe with only the mage rebellion and get to see and understand who your character REALLY is and then DAI, where you see all that you were get rewritten. And honestly, it gets to me because loss of identity is something that lowkey permeates the other characters - The reason Varric wrote the tale of the champion was in part because people were getting Hawke's story wrong (Cassandra is a GREAT example of how people were imagining things went down and why Varric's book was so relevant). I like to add that "you're only a symbol now" theme to my warden sometimes and it fees like a natural progression but to the inquisitor?

And to be honest, I'm not even entirely sure that this theme was intentional on the writer's part. Like, i give DAI some grace because of HELLISH the development was, but sometimes it feels to me that either they had a specific idea for who the inquisitor should be and if you play differently, themes get lost, or that the inquisitor was 1000% just some placeholder.

No wonder that the one character that stuck with me was Adaar because it was the only backstory that i felt gave me something i could work with - it said you have at least one mother and one father who left the qun and you joined a mercenary band and they have names. Not the faceless trevelyans who you only mildly hear about nor clan lavellan, who is talked about as if all those people were one person instead of, y'know, a group of people (i bring these two up because my 1st inky was a trevelyan and the 1st inky i ACTUALLY finished a playthriugh with was a lavellan and my god. i felt SO disconnected with them).

There's some other stuff too regarding the inquisitor's story that i don't know how to explain but that add to that feeling of not liking the inquisitor. Like, I think one of the things that I really like about the warden and Hawke is that you really have to build that character from the ground up. The wardens are very near the bottom of the social ladder and hawke is a refugee who's possibly an apostate too. it takes LONG in these games for your character to get any semblance of comfort. But for the inquisitor idk, i didnt feel that? Things happened to them and I had this feeling that they didn't deserve it. Like you go from haven, who's alreayd more organized than anything the warden and hawke had from the get go, and then you go to skyhold which is even nicer but I just cant help but feel that its unearned.

idk. its hard to explain. its even harder when i add the whole anchor thing, because I really do hate this thing. Like sorry, even if the inquisitor got named that because of their leadership, they were only given a chance to begin with bc of the mark. Its not a chosen one story but it sure as fuck feels like one to me most of the time. And the inquisitor being this leader is also something i just struggle with, and i blame it mostly on the fucking war table missions. Idk, again, bc in dao and da2 you have to basically do everything yourself, i could picture the warden and hawke as leaders, but because the nit and gritty is done by leliana/josephine/cullen, its like ok so am i just the guy who sits on a chair and orders people around? I just never get the feeling that the inquisitor is ACTUALLY working to get these things done its always just ordering others around. And like sure, the king who sits on the throne and orders people to their deaths is a leader, but the general who's going to war with me feels more like my leader than the guy with the crown (terrible analogy but its the best icould come up with).

idk. i have too many thoughts about how i don't like the inquisitor as a PC because of how they were written. its why i talk much less about asala because for me, despite doing 2 FULL PLAYTRHOUGHS its so hard to picture her in my head because the game gives me so freaking little to work with.

[keldae]

Musings

Gale couldn't remember the last time he had slept with someone – spending his time asleep wrapped in a lover's arms had been before Mystra. He hadn't ever needed to sleep when he was with his goddess in her realm, and she would never have come to the mortal planes to spend an entire night with him. So sharing his bedroll now was… unusual.

Not a bad type of unusual, he admitted to himself. But still unusual. And it was even more unusual that he hadn't had relations with his bed partner yet – that hadn't ever been a situation he'd found himself in, during the years before Mystra.

But then, with the orb in his chest… having sex was out of the question.

Unable to shut his mind off, he propped his head up on his pillow, looking down at the half-Elf who had stolen his blankets, and was trying to steal his heart. Devi was dead to the world, squished tightly against Gale's side, coppery hair loose around her head. Gale smiled fondly down at the little half-Elf, watching as a few strands of her hair moved with every slow breath past her parted lips. 

What are you seeing in your dreams tonight, Devi? he thought, gazing down at the thief. Hopefully her dreams were pleasant tonight. He didn't think she'd had a bad nightmare since they'd started sleeping together in the Underdark – he definitely had had pleasant dreams while sharing his tent and bedroll with her. Are you in Baldur's Gate, thriving as a little thief? Or are you thinking of the halfling and the dwarves from the book we read tonight? She had seemed to enjoy the story he had read to her.

Devi shifted slightly, rolling onto her side, facing Gale. Before he was quite aware of it, he was reaching to gently brush the loose strands of hair out of her face, tucking the locks behind one delicately pointed ear. His thumb touched her lips, slowly tracing the outline of her mouth. For a moment, he felt an unspeakable yearning for the woman sleeping beside him. If her thoughts during their lesson in the Weave were any indication, she wanted to kiss Gale, despite his affliction – and gods knew he desperately wanted to give her that kiss. He wanted to know what it would feel like to press his lips against hers, to let his tongue meet her own, to taste her mouth and breathe in her exhales as he fulfilled the vision she had shared with him of a kiss…

He closed his eyes, trying to force his mind away from the dangerous thoughts of kissing the woman with him. He'd spent the last year struggling to stabilise the orb – he couldn't risk his mental discipline failing him now. If he killed them all because of letting himself think too much, too enthusiastically, of kissing a beautiful girl… He wanted to groan in frustration.

Except that would have woken Devi up. He settled for silently scolding himself instead. Get a grip, Dekarios!

Besides, Devi wouldn't – couldn't – truly love a broken man like Gale was. He was older than she was, by quite a few years – and in trying to keep up with her youthful half-Elven exuberance, he definitely felt every tenday of his age in comparison to her. And he was irreparably broken, only a shadow of the man and wizard he had been a year and a half ago. He was the reject of a goddess, damned by his own foolishness, and doomed to meet an explosive end alone. 

In comparison, Devi was young, and full of life and fire and optimism. She had had a poor start in life – any child born poor in the Lower City of Baldur's Gate had a disadvantage. But she was smart, and stubborn, and if she was given the correct support, she could exceed any expectations for a girl born as a poor urchin. Maybe, Gale thought, he could leave a note leaving his wealth to her after he met his unavoidable end? Or he could just give her the key to his tower in Waterdeep before he inevitably had to leave the party to die somewhere safer. If she could cure her tadpole, maybe she could live on, somewhere safer than Baldur's Gate. And it would be a good use for the money and wealth he had, rather than leaving it all to rot. It wasn’t like Tara would really be able to use it, after all.

But he digressed. Devi was too young for him to pursue romantically, too vibrant, too lively to tie herself to a damned man. In another life, if they had ever even crossed paths, they would never have given each other a second thought (unless Devi had identified him as a pickpocketing target… which, Gale knew she would have targeted him in a heartbeat.). Even if he hadn't been damned, they were in entirely different social circles. Imagine the scandal, if he were to return to Waterdeep with an uneducated, uncouth, younger Baldurian thief, and one who could swear like a well-educated mercenary at that, as his lover! 

Gale grinned for a moment, imagining the reactions of some of his more class-conscious peers. His amusement faded with a sigh as he looked back down at Devi. You don't deserve as grim a fate as tying yourself to me would give you, he thought. You're too alive and hopeful to bind yourself to a broken, damned man. In another life, one where he wasn't a walking explosive, he might have still taken her to bed, trying to perhaps prove that being this much older than her just meant he was more experienced with pleasing a lover. And he was pretty certain he had pleased Mystra when he was the goddess’s lover – he could have wowed Devi with his command of the Weave in bed. He had already impressed her with their magic lesson after the tiefling party, and that had been tame! What he could have done behind a sound dampening ward to blow her away and make her cry out his name in bliss, over and over again…

Speaking of blowing away, he firmly turned his thoughts away from the idea of bedding Devi, thinking about spell incantations instead. The orb rumbled in his chest, but remained calm for the moment as his heart settled back down.

With another sigh, he stroked Devi's hair back from her face again. Where will your mind take you tonight? Will you dream of me? You really shouldn't – I'm a dead man walking. You deserve better than a broken heart. Although, wasn't he bold, to think that Devi might care for him the way he did her? What could he possibly offer her besides his knowledge of the arcane? He was doomed twice over – once from the illithid tadpole, and once from his own idiocy. She at least still had a chance at a normal life once she was cured of the tadpole. 

Tomorrow, he decided, he would start trying to distance himself from her. It would hurt her in the short term, and it would be agony for him, but it was for the best. She deserved better than to develop affections for a man who had nothing before him but an explosive death. Maybe he could subtly point her in the direction of Wyll – the warlock, despite his devilish appearance, was a good man. He was certainly a better man than the wizard who had tried to advance himself beyond mortal limitations to impress a goddess – and even with Wyll’s pact to a devil, he had a hope for a future beyond a destructive death alone. And he was younger, and handsome, and full of life and vigour, and could crack a joke to make even Devi groan while she was laughing…

Gods, this was already breaking Gale's heart.

But Devi would be happy with Wyll. Or maybe Shadowheart, if Wyll didn’t strike her fancy – the two half-Elves seemed to have a close connection already. Even if Shadowheart was a Sharran, Devi didn't seem to think less of her for it. Or Karlach, as boisterous and friendly as she was, would be a good match for the feisty little thief.

None of them were a depressed middle-aged wizard who had already exceeded his potential and his usefulness to Faerûn. 

Gale sighed yet again and started to roll away from Devi onto his side, trying to get some sleep. In the morning he would talk to Devi, and see if the thief would be receptive to the idea of spending her nights apart from him. Certainly, she would be upset at first – Gale fully expected to get slapped. But she had to see the logic eventually, right? She was more than smart enough, even if she was uneducated –

At his side, Devi softly moaned in protest of his movements. Her hand reached up, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down on his back again. Before Gale could do anything, the little half-Elf wrapped her arm around his stomach and settled her head on his chest, squirming until she was comfortable. Once she was satisfied with her human pillow, she sighed and draped her leg over his before she fell fully back to sleep, peacefully lost in her dreams.

Shit. This was not doing a damn thing to help Gale reconcile himself to letting go of her. She felt so damn good beside him, warm and snuggly, tucked under his arm where she belonged. How in the Nine Hells was he supposed to separate himself from her when she did things like this to him? His heart twisted in his chest at how serenely innocent she looked. She trusted him enough to sleep with him, even with the orb in his chest that could kill them all in an instant. Hells, she was sleeping on him now, only inches from the ugly markings he bore!

And she didn't seem to be bothered by that in the slightest.

“Why do you do this to me?” Gale whispered to the woman at his side. Giving up, he wrapped his arm around her, holding her closer to him. Was it his imagination, or did a little smile flicker over her lips as she felt him embrace her? He inwardly groaned – there was no way he could force himself to let go of her, or make her let go of him, when she so effortlessly held his heart in her hands. He was dooming her, every night that he slept with her, every time he read a book for her, every time he gave her a kind word or a smile or a gentle touch.

She would never let go of him in the way she needed to, in order to save herself from him and his grim fate. And Gale knew she would only call him a “self-destructive hopeless idiot”, or something similar, and cling tighter to him if he tried to talk to her about this and make her see sense.

Was she wrong, though?

Frustrated, Gale closed his eyes again and tried to will himself to sleep. Perhaps in the morning, he could think of a way to gently turn Devi from him and to a partner who actually had a future. It would break his heart, but it was better than dragging her down with him.

But maybe he could allow himself one more night of holding Devi against his heart and wishing he could safely confess his love for her. He sighed, forcing himself to resist the urge to kiss her hair, or her forehead, or those perfect lips. If he started kissing her even innocently right now, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop, not until the orb ended him. But gods, he wished he could… He could have died happy while kissing her, but it wasn't worth the risk he posed to everyone else in a ten-mile radius. Nobody else deserved to die while he indulged himself in kissing the woman he wanted – especially not the woman in question.

He sighed, shifting as much as he dared until he was comfortable under Devi. His other hand came up to slowly card his fingers through her loose hair, a soothing motion that made her contentedly hum in her sleep. Dammit, Devi, he thought, you make it too easy for me to love you.

That thought made him blink his eyes open again. Was this…? He thought for a moment, then sighed. Yes – this was love he felt for the woman in his arms. This was adoration, and devotion, and more than a bit of strongly-denied lust. He wanted her in every way possible – emotionally, and in spirit, and yes, physically too. 

But he wanted her safe and happy, even more than he wanted her with him. If you really love her, then you have to let her go, he tried to tell himself. Doesn't she deserve better than to be with you? Wyll would make her happy.

But what if she doesn't want Wyll? What if–

He firmly shut down the little voice in his mind before it could make the suggestion that maybe the woman in his arms wanted him. Nobody with any sense would want the older, broken, damned man that he was.

Then again, just that day, Astarion had been very enthusiastic in telling Devi that she had no sense, or self-preservation instincts, whatsoever…

Shut up. He scowled, then tugged the blankets up a little higher over himself and Devi. Just go to sleep. With any luck, Devi will see the truth herself without any prodding. And if she doesn't… it will hurt, but it will save her in the long term to break from her.

He sighed, then settled in to sleep, savouring what he was determined would be his last night holding the woman he loved.

—

Only a couple of hours later, Gale awoke to the sound of a whimper. He opened his eyes, frowning into the darkness of his tent until he heard a stifled sob from the half-Elf in his arms. He mumbled the incantation for a light cantrip, looking at Devi with anxiety spiking in his chest.

She didn't appear to be hurt. But her brow was furrowed as if she was in pain, and she was shaking. “Stop…” she whispered, flinching from something only she could see. “Please…”

Worried, Gale gently shook her shoulder. “Devi,” he lowly said, softly calling her name. “You're dreaming. You need to wake up.”

Devi didn't seem to hear him. She flinched again as though she'd been struck. “No,” she begged whoever was tormenting her. “You're hurting me!”

Gale shook her again, fear making the motion a little harder. “Devi,” he spoke her name again, a little louder. “Wake up, darling. I have you – you're safe. Wake up.”

His words didn't seem to be getting through. Devi whimpered again, her fingers tightening in Gale's shirt. “Please… help me… stop!” Her next words made Gale's heart twist in his chest. “No! Not Gale! Please!”

“Shhhh.” Gale shook her again and pressed his lips to her hair. “It's all right, darling. You're safe. Wake up now.” He lowered his lips to her ear as she whimpered again. “Wake up, Devi. You're safe… you're safe. I promise. Wake up. Wake up!”

Devi's twitching and flinching finally slowed, then stopped as Gale kept kissing her hair and whispering soothing reassurances to her. He finally felt her clutch his shirt a little tighter as she turned her head up to him. “Gale?” she whispered, her voice tiny and broken.

“I'm here,” Gale murmured, relief washing through his veins. “I have you. You're safe – it was just a dream, dear one. You're perfectly safe.”

“Oh, gods.” Still shaking, Devi buried her face in the crook of Gale's neck, clinging to him. “You were… you were…”

“Shhh,” Gale whispered. “I'm here.” He took her hand, guiding it to rest over his beating heart so she could feel his pulse. “I’m here. You’re all right – and so am I. Just breathe.” He heard a little sob from the woman he was holding, and felt his heart break for her. “Shhh. Breathe with me, Devi. Can you feel me breathing?” He waited until she nodded into his neck. “That’s my girl. Breathe with me, darling.” He focused on taking slow, calming breaths to make his chest move enough for her to easily feel him. For the first few breaths, Devi couldn’t quite match his slow breathing – stifled sobs made her body jerk unevenly under his arm. But as the minutes passed, she seemed to find his rhythm with breathing, her inhales slowly coming to match his as she calmed down from her nightmare. 

“Thank you,” she finally mumbled, slowly pulling her face out of his neck. There was a suspicious wetness on her cheeks that told Gale she’d been crying into his skin; indeed, he could feel her tears on him. “I’m sorry–”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Gale murmured, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. He offered her a small, reassuring smile. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Devi started to shake her head, then hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “I… told you how my father’s a gods-damned bastard that not even the hells want?” she asked, her voice low and quiet. 

Gale nodded. “You’ve told me he’s a terrible person and you plan on dancing on his grave when he dies,” he softly answered. “Or using his grave for a latrine. Perhaps both.”

Devi made a little sound that Gale thought was trying to be a laugh, a laugh mingled with a sob. “He deserves it. He and his friends, they…” She took a shaky breath, not looking at Gale’s face. “They were hurting me, and then they… they decided to hurt you when you appeared in the dream — I think you were trying to save me? But they… gods, the things they did…” 

“Shhh.” Gale pulled Devi’s face back into the crook of his neck; she went to him willingly, clinging to him. “We’re both all right – there’s nothing to be afraid of in this tent.” Except the orb, and the tadpoles, and the threat of the Absolute, and the small-but-still-present risk that Mystra would simply spontaneously detonate the orb in Gale’s chest to kill him and everyone around him – Gale shook his head. “We’re safe here. Nobody can hurt you when I’m here to protect you.” 

“They hurt you,” Devi mumbled. “They were hurting you, and they were going to kill you, and–”

“Shhh. It was just a bad dream, darling. I’m entirely unhurt, and so are you.” Gale hesitated for a moment, then chuckled. “And you can tell your subconscious that I don’t fear a thief and his henchmen. I might be outnumbered, but I would make them regret facing me before falling.”

Devi trembled again in his arms. “You couldn’t fight,” she whispered, quiet enough that Gale almost couldn’t hear her. “You… you were trying to save me. If you had fought them… they would have hurt me more.”

Apparently Devi’s subconscious knew Gale well enough to know that this was a truth about him. If that nightmare had been reality… Gale knew he would have stopped fighting the instant it became clear that his resistance would have endangered the woman he loved. “Shhh,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “It was just a dream. Your father can’t hurt either of us here.” 

He felt Devi slowly nod, but she still clung to him, shaking like a leaf. He suspected that she was probably too scared to easily go back to sleep. With a grunt, he reached out for the book they had been reading earlier that evening – or rather, that he had been reading to her. Nudging the lights to where he could more easily see the pages, he opened the book back where they had left off. “Shall I try to get your mind back onto a more soothing subject?” he asked. At her hesitant nod, he kissed her hair again, then started quietly reading the next chapter. The halfling and dwarves had been caught by ogres, and were being argued over by said ogres who couldn’t decide how to cook them properly. It was one of Gale’s favourite scenes in the book, and Devi seemed to be entranced by the story normally. Indeed, she seemed to calm down as he read to her, shifting from having her face buried in his neck, to resting her cheek on his shoulder. 

As Gale came to the end of the chapter, he looked down to see Devi’s eyes closed and her lips slightly parted again, her breathing soft and slow. He wasn’t sure when she had fallen asleep again, but he was grateful that she had found rest. Careful to not disturb her, he replaced the bookmark in the pages, then set the book back down and extinguished the lights over their heads. Devi grunted as he slowly rested on the pillow again, then snuggled up as closely as she could to him.

Gale sighed softly, running his hand over her hair soothingly. Apparently this was the gods’ way of foiling his plan to break apart from Devi before anything could begin with them. Who else was going to cuddle the little half-Elf after her nightmares? Who else would read to her to get her mind off her fear again? Try as Gale might, he couldn’t imagine Devi snuggling up so closely to Wyll, or Shadowheart, or Karlach, or any of their other friends in the party. For some reason, she had chosen Gale, doomed and damned as he was.

Guilt and hope surged in equal amounts in his heart – guilt because he was dragging Devi down with him, and hope because maybe he wasn’t quite as broken and useless as he believed himself to be. Maybe Devi saw something in him that he couldn’t see or acknowledge himself.

It would have been easier if she didn’t see anything in him, he thought. 

He yawned and let himself cuddle Devi closely, doing his best to make sure she felt protected and safe in his arms. “No harm will come to you if I can help it,” he promised her in a whisper. “You are safe with me.” Closing his eyes, he rested his cheek on her hair and let himself fall back asleep, praying that Devi’s dreams for the rest of the night (and his, he supposed) would be peaceful.

If you dream of me again, dear one… dream of the happiness that I can’t give you in reality. Please don’t dream of either of us suffering for the other, he thought before sleep reclaimed him.

[galedekarios]

gale's alternate boat scene

“I conjured this illusion often during my confinement in Waterdeep.

An escape for the mind where there was none for the body. It was easier to stare at the celestial abyss than recognise the emptiness within myself.

Easier to pretend my destiny lay among such stars, than work to salvage a life on solid ground. You changed all that.”

[wavebiders]

The thing that really gets me about Wyll and Karlach is just how their bond is allowed to have the importance in their narratives that it has

I mean, in games like these the cast is always going to be centered around the pc. Sure, the relationships between other companions can be developed through party banter, commentary, or even cinematics, but at the end of the day everyone's most significant relationship is always going to be the player. That's the person who most affects them and where their story is going

With these two, it's not even that Tav isn't vitally important to them both, but it's meeting Karlach that changes Wyll's life one way or another. It's Wyll that's the first person to stick out his neck for Karlach, and sends her reeling. Their bond alone is enough to convince Karlach to go to Avernus and stay alive

It's a very bold choice to risk limiting the player's importance in order to drive home the connection between two characters, and I really appreciate Larian for going there

[monocrowee]

my silly mouse guy for @hydropyro mouse army !!! ty for doing this as well as making this got me to finish and post something:]

[astarionposting]

camp clothes :)

durgetav playthrough 7/?

[nejackdaw]

Me @ Wulbren after the way he talked to my man Barcus in Last Light

[deimcs]

A LETTER FOUND IN THE POCKETS OF A DEAD THUG, THE PAGES ARE OUT OF ORDER AND STINK OF CHEAP WINE —

He is one of my best fighters, by Mystra’s tits, I want him back! And I don’t have to remind you that this is not the only reason why it is in our best interest to keep the lad away from civilization and well within our reach, where he can fatten our purses and keep the competition in check. Do not write back until you have news of him. I don’t care if you have to search the whole damn coast and turn every fucking stone you see on your path. Loudwater was a bust, but I know for a fact that snake hasn’t slithered back into the forest, too much of a scaredy-cat still. You saw what it took to beat all that dainty woodland shit out of him, he knows he can't go back to that life now. This is why he will be back with my chains around his pretty neck before long. Go west to Waterdeep and stay sharp, a storm is gathering on the horizon.

[yesistolethisurl]

a fun fact about atavian is that since he never technically finished his apprenticeship, gale wouldn't necessarily be incorrect in referring to him as "apprentice"

a second fun fact about atavian is that if gale tried pull that, he would have set him on fire

[galebecky97]

my wretched daughter

[neuvichi]

i talked abt this on bsky alr but it really pisses me off how some people try to control how other people engage with both fiction and the canon events of bg3

[rackartyg]

hmm i don't think the nuances of astarion's reaction to araj is to do with him finding romanticisation of his vampirism specifically to be distasteful so much as, like, she's objectifying him and that's what he doesn't like (but instead of sex, it's based on his vampirism). something something there's a difference between strangers and someone you trust something

[prettymediocrewizard]

Did you know that 1 watermelon is worth 10 rations so you can just eat 4 watermelons for a long rest? (dark urge wester doesn't know how to cook)