banes-favourite
he's my little meow meow fr
18+ content ahead. angst is more than welcome. gortash apologist and bane worshipper
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The evil Sailor Senshi coming to Baldurs gate near you!
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Since there isn't enough art of Gortash with his crossbow, I decided to provide~
Link to the tweet that sparked the idea
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I love gold digger Gortash. Can imagine him amassing so much wealth by courting various patriars, and after sneaking into their will and testament he even gets Durge in on it; if they take them out for him (in a manner that absconds him of course) then he gives them a cut of the money. Then they go bang in the victims mansion or on a pile of gold, idk.
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I can’t post the full wip here but I think I’m getting a better handle on his face. Would like to get a better handle on something else if you know what I’m saying 👀
Also I am forever cursed to draw spiky fucking anime hair. Why is it so fun?
Full nude on my twitter. https://x.com/trashcanmeat/status/1783573391301136769?s=46
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🖤🖤🖤 I like him a regular amount. (Enough to run this whole blog) More.
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I find it so interesting that Gortash seems almost genuinely surprised that Karlach is pissed off at him for selling her but he's obviously still hurt by his parents doing the same to him
It reflects his mother not even considering why he would still be bitter because "it was for the best" so much that it's not even a pot and kettle anymore, it's just two pots
Just two pots pls, 😭😭
Ok but fr, he's so fucking hypocritical for that. I do think he twisted the narrative in his mind so that he believes only that his time in the Hells was for a good cause, and he wouldn't have learned all the things necessary for climbing the ranks otherwise. Hence, he's doing the same to Karlach to help her advance to the next stage of her life, help her grow strong and smart and capable out of necessity, just like he did.
But a small part of him resents his mother for doing it to him. He was a child, she was his mom, she was supposed to protect him from ghouls and demons, not serve him to them on a silver platter for some meager coin.
That part of him, though, he tries to drown bc he finds it so childish. The only compromise he found between that and his normal side is tadpoling his parents, to sing his praises to the people and better his chances of being accepted as archduke (he wants to see them suffer just like he did)
#bg3#enver gortash#gortash#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate#baldurs gate#bg3 gortash#asks#anon
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Durgetash is basically:
One man wants to rule the world, another wants to destroy it. Momentarily they are made to join forces but what will they do about their opposing views?
*makeout furiously*
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I have this scene in a Gortash Lives And Gets Dragged Through Redemption AU I keep thinking about. It has my durge Clira and Gortash laying in bed, before they reconcile fully so they're like a foot and a half apart. Clira is trying to sleep, finding herself comforted by Gortash's presence as she's asking him to tell her stories she doesn't remember. I thought I might share it, in case anyone likes it
The sun hasn't set yet, casting the room in a gently, golden light as Gortash tells her of their history, of little things she can't remember - "Your hair used to be longer. You hated people touching it. For a long time only Sceleritas was allowed to brush and trim it for you." - as well as filling in the memories that were hazy.
He tells her how they worked together, what they explored together. Of lovers she had, kills she made - "Remember Nathaniel? You liked him. You thought he was beautiful and sweet. You even mourned him." - and she has found that she easily falls asleep to the gentle sound of his voice.
Just before she falls asleep she asks him for one last memory.
"Tell me something about you that I've forgotten," she says, mumbling just a little. Her eyes are already closed, her breathing slow. He knows she'll fall asleep soon, and he doesn't think he's welcome in her bed after that. Not yet.
His dark eyes look at her, but his mind is searching for something to say. It is difficult, not because he can't think of anything lost to her but because she's asking him to open up once more. It took a long time for him to do so the first time alone.
"… when I was a child I would make small sculptures and gadgets out of scraps I found," he begins. "I would sell them for coin that I hid from my parents. I would use it for food, toys and sometimes even to go to the circus. I had found a bird's nest that I used to look in to see if the clever animal had found something shiny."
Clira smiles gently, but she doesn't say anything. He's not sure she hears him, if she's half-asleep or not, but he has no reason to stop yet.
"I told you about that once. You didn't seem to understand. I wasn't sure what it was that eluded you. My motives, my craft or perhaps even a lack of understanding about avian habits," he chuckles a bit. Her face had been so expressionless back then. It was difficult to understand her at the best of times. Very different from now, with her smiles coming frequent and easy.
A welcome change, he will admit.
"Of course, after I told you this I found a birds nest at my windowsill. I found it odd, especially since it was not even nesting season. But after that I found little things in there. Pieces of metal. Bits of rope. A bloodied arrowhead once. By the time I received a broken dagger, far too heavy for a bird to carry, I knew it was no feathery friend I had to thank for these gifts."
Soft, steady breathing fills the room as he stops for a moment. With a sigh he carefully rolls off to the side and stands up, straightening his clothes as he stays for a moment. Just a moment, he's allowed that isn't he?
"I made a little bird out of the scraps, small enough to pin to a piece of clothing, and laid it back into the nest." An exhale, a whisper of a laugh. "You wouldn't stop blushing when you noticed me staring at it as it sat on your coat next time we saw each other. I didn't need words to tease you."
He walks over to her side of the bed to pull the curtains across the window, reducing the little light that was left filtering into the room to darkness.
Then he hesitates, raises two fingers to his mouth. He lifts a quick kiss from his lips, and places it gently to her cheek.
"Sleep well, little magpie," he says before leaving the room
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I rlly don't know why is poor Myrkul still with THEM.
P.S. I think that Bane and Bhaal are exes, fight me.
P.P.S. I had big problems with design of each of Dead Three when I started to draw this, because… Ugh, did you see this 1998's designs? It's a bit ugly, a bit difficult and not interesting for me. After drawing I found some BG3-concepts, but it was after. And… come one, they are gods, they can look like they want. For example, did you know that Bhaal has the dinosaur form wich he stole from Malar?
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I really needed to paint him in that outfit
“Judas”
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Me, explaining the steel foundry fight to my dad: so I have to fight medieval Elon Musk, right? But in order to do that, I first have to take down Ye Olde Tesla.
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