At the very end, we were nothing but ghosts: pale silhouettes painted in violence.
The blog is mostly dedicated to the appreciation of Rolan BG3 ¯\_(ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯. Gifs and writing. And Nimriel, of course, my drow OC you see plastered all over here :3 I also love wallowing in my misery from time to time, so, be warned! (,Ծ_Ծ,)
♥ All my gifs and pictures -> #wasteful sam stuff
♥ All my writing -> #wasteful sam fic
♥ Modded Rolans (aka Rolanverse): -> #Cambion Rolan, #Rolan the Miresworn, #Flower Knight Rolan, #Master Rolan (featuring @alrendriablaze amazing smutfic based on him :3)
♥ All Nimriel-related -> #OC: Nimriel
♥ Nimriel x Rolan -> #Thunder Valkyrie (I will expand it one day, I swear)
♥ How I recreate Rolan, Zevlor, and Dammon in BG3
♥ Nimriel masterpost - main information about my OC
♥ Tags - comment here if you want to be tagged in my gifs- and writing-related posts.
♥ Want to request a gif/fic? Via comments or asks, and I will try mah best
♥ Worthy - my main ongoing long fic (3rd person, multiple POVs). Rolan/female drow Tav named Nimriel + developing Dammon/Karlach relationships and some other winks at potential ships.
It's a slow-burn story with mutual pining, angst, and eventual smut. It covers the events of all three acts, mostly from Rolan's point of view, and expands on his character, giving him more agency. The same goes for some companions/minor characters.
The story can be found on AO3 or, if you prefer reading on Tumblr under the #the Worthy fic.
Wordcount: 76k+, ongoing
♥ Blades and hearts laid bare [18+] - smut (3rd person, Rolan x Nimriel, rough sex, cunnilingus, Rolan is confident and dominant AF, ass slapping (a lot), dirty talk).
After a close call in battle, Rolan and Nimriel have to confront the insatiable lust they have for each other. The lovers go through a full circle of emotions: anger, regret, passion, and devotion. Hiding feelings in plain sight, they succumb to each other, knowing that tomorrow may never come.
This fic is a part of the “Worthy” cannon, but can be read separately :3 Read on AO3 or Tumblr
Wordcount: 5,8k, finished
♥ That day, I died with him - horror (1st and 3rd person, Rolan's POW, body horror, psychological horror, blood and violence, angst, major character death).
The fic starts with the entry of Rolan's diary, where he recounts how he killed Lorroakan. The notes quickly reveal that Rolan struggles with piled-up mental issues caused by the events of the past and rapidly approaches the breaking point.
The fic is an entry to the Miresworn AU - a longfic I am slowly starting to work on. I have been consumed by the idea of writing a dark Rolan fic for a while now. A universe where Cal and Lia die in Shadow-Cursed Lands, and Rolan looks for ways to resurrect them. In his pursuit, he begins using Thay's Necromancy. As it slowly corrupts him, Rolan loses his grasp on reality and allies with Ascended Astarion to control Baldur’s Gate from the shadows and have full access to all its resources. The snippet of the story you’ve read takes place two years after the final battle.
Read on AO3 or Tumblr
Wordcount: 1,3k, finished, a part of the ongoing series.
♥ Only the moon bore witness to his yearning [18+] - smut (3rd person, Rolan's POV in chapter 1, double POVs in subsequent chapters).
Overtaken by his desperate longing for Tav, Rolan has no choice but to pleasure himself, letting his desires take complete control. In the following chapter, the dumbass gets caught by Tav, and the porn scenario ensues. ┐(︶▽︶)┌ Chapter 3 - soon, hopefully. 🥴
Read on AO3 or Tumblr: ch. 1, ch. 2
Wordcount: 4k+, ongoing
♥ Be as greedy as you want [18+] - smut. It is the reimagining of the "Don't be greedy" cutscene if BG3 was a full-on porn game T_T.
Basically, Rolan/f!Tav, shameless smut, 99% porn/1% plot, spontaneous drunk sex, groping, taunting, not-so-dirty dirty talk, confident Rolan gets what he fucking deserves, and all the good stuff. 👌
Read on AO3 or Tumblr
Wordcount: 2,4k, finished
♥ The Master and his glove [18+] - short smut about Master Rolan. What can I say, I love writing Rolan masturbation scenes. (¬_¬”) But here's a twist: he does it with his leather glove. (꒪▿꒪)
Solo masturbation, a short and sweet fic. :3
Read on Tumblr
Wordcount: 720, finished
♥ Masks left behind - short, pure romance (??? inconceivable!). Rolan/f!Tav, post-canon, romantic fluff, double POV.
Two years have passed after the final battle for Baldur's Gate, and the new Master of Ramazith's Tower is invited to the Moonlight Masquerade celebration. At first glance, it seems that Rolan now has it all, earning the respect he deserves among the citizens and a peaceful life with his siblings. But tonight, a chance meeting makes him dare to dream beyond that. He yearns to give his heart to the woman he secretly adored all these years.
Read on AO3 or Tumblr
Wordcount: 3,191, finished
♥ A debt paid in lust [18+] - smut (3rd person, double POV). It is a shameless hatefucking. Rolan/female tiefling DU Vexis.
A short, one-chapter story. A quickie, one might say, to clench the urges. (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و My first smut ever, so, yeah...
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Much love to @deianestormborn 🔥 (OG post) for creating this fun concept! & an extra TY to @gortashsrighthand 💕 (here) for tagging me in this!
What if your TAV/OC was an Origin Character and they could have evil endings? What would those endings be?
Hold on cause this is gonna be a long one ...
Wraith of the Fugue Plane
An alternate ending, wherein the Child of None refuses revival.
“From ashes to ashes. Dust to fleeting dust. You have awakened from a deep slumber to the clarity of home — on the precipice of existence where your dead soul was always meant to rest. There are no gods here to name you. No devils to bargain. Nor demons to pilfer the last wisps of your freedom. An endless well of fury supersedes your conscious thought. It is an overwhelming hunger, a reclamation born of return. You may be faithless, but you are not powerless. You are a wound in the afterlife that refuses to close. An appetite that can never be sated. No soul shall find peace, for when they cross your path, they are embraced not by the rest they merit, but by your overwhelming thirst for retaliation. If the gods can make a sport out of life, then let their dominion over death learn what it means to falter.”
Sorry, is this disrespectful of the rules? I just love the thought of Lynette, not forgoing her strong desire for agency, remaining evil until then end. And instead of being revived by Jergal, she decides to take out her grievances towards the gods on the very thing that fuels them. 🗡
This was inspired by my non-canon interpretation for the dark urge creation: a hijacked soul from the fugue plane forcibly reanimated for Bhaal’s cause.
Lady of Ruin
An evil godhood ending, wherein Lynette becomes the catalyst behind collapse.
"The crown is yours. You are more than what Father made of you — so much more than anyone could have foreseen. As cool tendrils of divinity course within you, rebirth unfolds. Mortals stumble through hubris. Kingdoms crumble beneath failure. Tempests bleed into calamity. Yet you alone laugh, basking in the glorious rapture of their undoing. You alone reign supreme, dominating the threshold of annihilation. In the wake of chaos, you alone endure."
Repurposed Lynette's results from another tag, to make her domain more distinct. Her evil godhood ending is less about destruction wrought by forces of nature, and moreso the act of destruction itself. Is that too edgy? Probably. Still, I enjoy the idea that a Bhaalspawn who was usurped, finds pleasure in commanding that very force that once shaped her existence.
Shepard of the Lost
Alternative ending embracing the teachings of Shar.
"Sister. Blessing. Saviour. The titles that crowned you have never been more deserved than in this moment. Who better to lead the pariahs and mourners than one of their own? Your old life erased. A higher purpose calls. Whatever burden you once carried, becomes a cradle of silence and solitude. It is not noble to suffer. When grief becomes you, lay your soul to rest with the Lady of Sorrows. No mercy — only surrender."
Honestly, I had no idea what to do for Briar. She is much more warm-natured than Lynette, and has a long history of protecting others. Then it hit me, she lost her home in the woods, she used to shepard the refugees of Elturiel, her heartbreak and overprotective nature could be turned into a sinister force. Ergo, Briar becomes enticed by the teachings of Shar, and in the process becomes a heretic for her teachings.
Gentle NP tags for my moots @elandra-beltharys @starlit-serpent @nasaiki @dynamicducks & @mercymaker!
Thank you for the tags, @wasteful-sam, @elceewunjo, @riddlerosehearts, @faeriiefire, @michanvalentine, @missfortunetherogue, @litsenn :)
Gently passing on to @spillingteanotpermitted, @ranger-jahen, @dykestelmane, @starlit-serpent, @theya-art. Whether you want to share a wip of writing, art or vp :)
This time a writing snip, because I'm kinda proud how this argument between Shadowheart and Astarion turned out. No CW.
For those who lack context, this is a direct continuation of my fic When Water Gets as Thick as Blood. The fragment below takes place in Shadow-Cursed Lands, after the party discovered the dead body of Yae's older brother Zenith.
No, I don't promise to finish the third chapter anytime soon x)
Divider by @/diviniyae
“Not prostrating anymore? I wonder why you would need all this gear while everybody else is resting?”
Shadowheart cursed internally. That nosy little leech.
“I know it may be hard to notice when all one pays attention to is the state of his hair and nails, but this land is dangerous, Astarion. I’m going to scout the surroundings a bit. Otherwise, none of your business.”
“Ouch! I didn’t expect you to bite so hard. Almost as vicious as those nasty shadow mutts. One might come to the conclusion something has upset you.”
She’d call upon lady Shar to grant her patience, but in the current circumstances she supposed the option was off the table. If the Mother Superior had known what she was about to do, she’d surely call such audacity bordering on sacrilege.
Normally, she would have enjoyed a barbed exchange with Astarion. It would have been lined with goofiness, not vitriol.
“You’re one to talk about mutts. You’ve been trailing Yae like a faithful puppy ever since we’ve found the body. Why do you suddenly care so much? He rejected you twice.”
Astarion bristled. In an instant, his face became a distorted mask: hurt pride, blistering shame, even fear. It all blended together like pigments on a palette, and the resulting colour was anger.
“I thought,” he said slowly, examining the fingernails of his left hand with utmost care, “that the position of Yae’s lapdog was already taken. You know, by a certain sycophantic cleric. ‘I’d rather listen to Yae than to you,’ ‘Yae can at least be the voice of reason,’ ‘Let’s do as Yae says’,” he mimicked Shadowheart. “Ever heard of her? Pity, however, because this great fan of his didn’t even once check on him tonight. Offered no herbal teas to alleviate the anguish.”
“What do you know!” she erupted, stomping her foot with such force the vampire actually took a step back. “I can’t face him,” she added quietly, her shoulders sagging. “Not after what I’ve said.”
She fully expected the vampire to press on, to continue to mercilessly stab her with words and inflict a mortal, a mortifying wound. To dance around with a metaphorical dagger until he bled her dry of dignity. Just like she deserved.
But the usually mouthy elf kept silent. Fine, she’d have to go for the heart herself.
“I can’t remember ever having friends, Astarion.”
The pair of ruby eyes bored holes into her. There was something amiss with that gaze, as though behind it a million thoughts raced in different directions. Why wasn’t he laughing? With that jarring, terrible cackle of his that somehow proved contagious every time. Why didn’t he continue to mock her? Or maybe he was so taken aback with her pathetic display it rendered him speechless?
Astarion cleared his throat.
“So... Back to the original subject. You said you need the gear for… scouting, right? And where, pray tell, are you going to be ‘scouting’?”
His hands rested on his hips in an almost relaxed, open manner, and he kept his features surprisingly straight. All verbal weapons sheathed.
“Or you know what?” He picked on again almost immediately. “Never mind, let’s not waste time, you can fill me in along the way. I’ll just get a thing or two myself. I’ll be back before you can say ‘All Selûnites suck hard’.”
She was almost tempted to chuckle. At his awful joke, at the absurdity of the situation. And maybe out of relief, too.
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ANYWAY HERE. I dug up some mods to make her look more how she's supposed to, gear wise.
Still not perfect though, so we'll see if I don't figure out how to put gear together and make her something that fits her like a glove. Good enough for now though.
Got tagged by @lucretiouswept, thank you, my darling.
It was rather interesting to ponder. I used her hair variant that I planned for more ''refined looks'' and one of my favorite dresses. Of course, Deia would never go down this path, so it is all for fun and giggles, but... can we just agree on how good she looks here?
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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