#[ IC ] Wyll Ravengard

[yaksinhats]

✨⚔️✨

[rowan-of-waterdeep]

Look I love Wyll with the power of a thousand suns, but sometimes this feels like him

Help the good people

Get angry at the bad people

Easy peasy

Right?

...

Right?

[winter-wise]

Fictional character ages are weird because Wyll Ravengard and Tyrion Lannister are both 24.

Wait. wait. 24-year-old disabled son of an influential political figure considered a disappointment by his father mother died in childbirth discriminated against because of appearance unhealthy relationship with alcohol and an even worse relationship with an evil hot lady and a hopeless romantic. I'm not saying they're the same character because they're far from identical but. I am cooking something here.

They should fuck, actually. This would solve zero problems and potentially create new ones but w/e I shall not retract my statement.

[larsisfrommars]

Next patch/hotfix better be the “we’re sorry Wyll” super patch or me and Larian gonna fucking FIGHT

[fkitwebhaal]

As someone who knits, I think of all the companions, Wyll would be best suited to take up knitting.

I know, I know, Astarion sews, but he already has that going on, and I think yarn tangles would drive him nuts. Wyll however is always on the road, sometimes staking things out, tracking stuff: knitting would be great for him. It’s a good “hurry up and wait” activity.

Additionally, he would love to give away hats to people who need them. Get saved by the Blades of the Frontiers? If you’re cold, the hat is also free! It even has holes for horns!

Also the puns of “this looks like a problem for my other blades” as he holds out two knitting needles is too funny, very Wyll core.

[storyhaunt-a]

the days as of late seem only to grow crueler by the hour; rest and reprieve a mere yearning of the not-so-distant past - at least, for the likes of one such as wyll, who can acknowledge the privilege he holds in comparison to those around him. even now, they are struck by some level of urgency, given the hope that somewhere in this mountain pass lay the key to their curing, and there is no real time for sight-seeing, not when their very lives could be on the line. even so, the other's must forgive wyll, if he finds himself the barest bit captivated by the natural beauty of the pass and the monastery nestled within its loving grasp, alight and sun-kissed by the golden hours of sunset.

" pretty enough to paint, " warlock says to wish, with a note of sincere awe - followed quickly by, despite his mostly deadpan delivery, the undertone of a barely-suppressed smile as he adds, " too bad i don't have a canvas. or paints. or the skills. "

* @mindhallow.

[dragonsfell]

[ INBOX / always accepting ] ⸻ @architaciturn sent in ⸻ “Gods. Somebody studied Shakespear once and now it's everybody's problem.” (For Wyll, from Astarion. - architaciturn)

❝ I favor myself as someone who could quote the finer poetries of playwrights. ❞ It's said half distracted as he watches their wizard companion spout off Shakespeare. ❝ Yet this ⸺ ❞

Perhaps he spoke too soon when he had decided that Gale had become significantly less insufferable as they had all been traveling together. Tempering each other from wilder thoughts and darker intentions, bonding with one another. Nerves no longer crossed as often as they had back at the Grove.

He may be quite the romantic himself; guilty of evoking the great Bard with such flowery prose for a lover, here and there, but this was insufferable. Rare was a time that he and Astarion would find themselves agreeing on anything.

❝ Do you suppose it's some form of wizardry foreplay? ❞ Wyll suggests, if not to rile Astarion up a little more and decided that it's time perhaps they dip down this next street without their companions for sake of no longer having to bare witness to such displays. A further suggestion should be made that they get a room instead of the shared penthouse the rest of them slept.

❝ Yet here I thought you would be all in favor of speaking prose. ❞ Considering Astarion's age, which the Blade may be smiling at such implication. All of them in motley crew, Wyll included, wasn't above the harmless jokes every now and again. Agog had still a choicely word from the vampire.

[griefology]

the bugbear twitches in death at her feet. necrotic damage oozes, something pustule, and frankly disgusting blistering on it's skin from her spell. it's almost enough to keep her from checking the body, but the shimmer of gold piece in his pocket convinces her.

for a princess, she was rather [ . . . ] dirty.

❝ i had it under control. ❞ wyll starts, sheathing his sword with some reluctance. ❝ you didn't have to do that. ❞ @bladegard finishes, and nym can feel his eyes on her as she slides a ring and some gold into her pocket for later pawning. she wipes her hands on her pants and then adjusts her mask before sparing him a glance. ❝ you were taking too long. ❞ she murmurs, ever - quiet. her voice sounds humor - laced, however, something almost light to the tone. without the mask, she may be smiling.

he'd never know, though.

❝ rude to keep a lady waiting. we haven't even had breakfast. ❞

[shadowbrn]

from zara tiaon ( @mcnks ) to wyll ravengard:     persuasion check ( roll: 9 (+3) 12 )

wyll didn't understand why zara was so convinced to throw herself into every situation head first. things would be so much smoother if she would just . . . think first. they could save themselves from a lot of fighting. he didn't want to give mizora any more ammunition than she already had. ❝ if you won't stop and think for yourself, can you at least stop and think for me? ❞ wyll asked, frowning slightly as he looked at her, ❝ what am i going to do if anything happens to you? ❞

[asspinkie]

tav and the party begin to lose contact with each other over time. suddenly, halsin is old, several generations of children all raised under his wing. he's passed on his responsibilities, made a commune of reithwin. he's losing his sight when he decides to send one last letter, even though the previous ones have been ignored by a grieving astarion and a relentlessly busy lae'zel. the last time they saw each other was over a century ago, at tav's funeral. wonderful, beautiful tav. who died too quickly, even with longer lifespan of one of faerun's seemingly immortal races. something about years of hard adventuring, and the grief of losing shadowheart, gale, karlach, and wyll. halsin, astarion, and lae'zel would be the ones left, the ones who could never connect with each other outside of tav. but halsin feels like his time is short, so he sends two final letters, two final ties to his past life. one to the ageless clothesmaker in the city who has faded from the memory of the people as a hero of baldur's gate. one to the young and fearless warrior who exists outside of time waging holy war. when astarion and lae'zel finally arrive, it's too late to see halsin alive again. he's laid to rest in the forest he grew up in. an oak sapling sprouts where he's buried, and astarion cries over the freshly turned earth, lae'zel holding him as best she can. halsin is given an honorary sarcophagus in the mausoleum that holds tav and the rest of their companions. there are two other stone coffins that will never be filled.

astarion fades into mundanity and routine. he hasn't seen lae'zel in centuries - he only knows she's still alive from the stories that have sprung up, across the realms, of her exploits. he doesn't dream, but he trances often of his time with halsin. with tav. he wishes he'd been less angry when they'd been alive. he wishes he could live without all the regret he has shored up. he visits tav's mausoleum often. with the same kind of flowers they once left on his grave.

one night, centuries after the defeat of the netherbrain, astarion finds an aged lae'zel in the cemetery. her right hand is pressed to the marble of the mausoleum with a quiet calm that astarion has never seen in her. in her left hand are flowers - tav's flowers. her once taut body is unstrung, the curve in her back decrying years of labor and life. topaz eyes flick up toward him with a cunning that he's never forgotten. it feels like ice in his unbeating heart.

"bury me here," she rasps, dropping the flowers, and turning to face him in earnest. "bury me amongst our friends, astarion."

as she collapses, astarion races forward with uncanny speed to catch her. he is the last person to hold her.

he is the last person.

at last, he is face to face with his worst nightmare. he thought he would be angry. he thought he would cry. but instead, an unnerving relief and resignation fill him. he holds lae'zel until the sun rises. they take their last moments together like those awful spirits at elfsong tavern so many years ago. quickly and bitterly. but amongst friends.

the young duke ravengard finds their remains and ensures that they are laid to rest alongside his ancestor. at last, the heroes of baldur's gate are reunited in death.

[storyhaunt-a]

" you work too hard. live a little! "

the ravengard had been lost in his own tangled and mangled thoughts when it was wish's voice which broke him from his self-inflicted trance. attention snaps to his companion, the instinctual tensing of muscles and startled demeanor quickly ebbing at the realization of who stands before him - replaced instead by a familiar comfort, one which felt much older than he and @mindhallow had known one another. eyes flit to the cup that is in wish's hand, the drink offered to him. part of him wants to politely decline, send wish on his way.

a laugh breaks free from his chest, his throat, and though a deep and buried weariness clings to it, still does it ring with sincerity, and no matter how short-lived it is, the air carries its singing note for a moment longer. he accepts the cup that is given to him, swirls the drink inside absentmindedly. " i hear you, wish, " wyll says, half-smile doing well to reach his voice, his eyes. worry continues to trudge through his mind, that much wish is aware of, but he seems, at the very least, to welcome the company offered, the snapping from his own thoughts. " i guess i still forget that … life isn't all duty and obligation, and not everything need be looked at like a battle to be won. apologies, if i had begun to ruin the mood. "

[dragonsfell]

“I may have had… briefly, mind you… stirrings.” @ wyll

A moment of doubt had begun to pass his mind when Tony's hand had dug into the dead spider and pulled some flesh; that maybe his own doubts about being a leader, about being the chief decision maker of more than just himself may have been wrong given the current man they were following. That thought only furthered when h had licked the spider by some compulsion.

It was only while they sitting outside of one of the trial rooms, letting Shadowheart embark alone through these tests (something she had insisted upon) and had left them to sit, twiddle their thumbs that Wyll has to say something more. SO ABOUT THAT SPIDER ⸻

I may have had... briefly mind you... stirrings.

That is not what Wyll had been expecting for Tony to lean over and whisper. So there absolutely had been a blush to Tony's cheeks, which had merely been a jest to defuse the tension that Wyll had felt standing by. There had to be something in air, perhaps spores, around this Sharran temple that had led to such peculiar behavior.

Dare he ask what kind of stirrings, or perhaps that best be knowledge men only kept to themselves. ❝ Right, right. Stirrings. ❞ Shadowheart was taking her sweet time with this test; maybe they should go in and check on her. Anything to get out of this conversation. ❝ Erm, did it... uh.. awaken anything that you might need to have your bedroll on the other side of camp or.... ❞

Gods, he really does not want to know anything about the spider incident but now he was asking. ❝ We can stay right here, and uh, there's nothing around that corner over there. No one'll say anything to Shadowheart or judge. ❞ He absolutely was trying hardest not to. She wouldn't know and she was blessed for that. Wyll would pray to Shar himself to move that knowledge.

[killerpancakeburger]

*Duke Ravengard has joined your camp*

Wyll: Isnt my father amazing? :) *sunshines and rainbows around him*

Me: Haha yeah :)

*Wyll walks away*

Me, turning to the Duke menacingly, still smiling: You're on thin fucking ice old man... Wyll may not resent you for the way you treated him but I sure as hell do.

[choccy-zefirka]

"It's not fair," Wyll cries out, as the weight of this entire long day, the longest in his seventeen years alive, comes crashing down onto his shoulders and presses him onto his knees. He has weathered it all, somehow, stalwart and strong like the heroes from his childhood books. Even the hot drill of pain that dug into his socket; even the cutting ice-floe edge of his father's voice — it almost seemed distant, a dramatic scene on a page that he was idly reading. But now, suddenly, in a tremendous terrible instant, it all becomes real.

And the world swims and wobbles before him, ever so slightly off, ever so slightly alien, now that he has only one eye to see with. And the sob at the back of his throat turns into a high-pitched squeak, like the ones he'd make not so long ago, when his voice first started breaking. This is probably the last he'll hear from the child who still lives within him. From Ulder Ravengard's boy.

Behind Wyll's back, leathery wings flap softly. A long tail thrashes against the ground, thump-thump-thump, a cat all coiled up in an ambush. He shudders head to toe, a cold pit opening within him — and braces himself to feel those claws on his face again. But the cambion does not grab him this time. She only murmurs, her gloating woven from the sleekest silken thread,

"Of course it's not fair, dear boy. Get used to it."

"It's not fair," Wyll croaks, nigh without sound, on his knees again, in a puddle of darkest crimson. He can barely muster control over his numb lips, his stifled voice: the entirety of his strength has been poured into a single desperate action... Clutching on to the limp, blood-drenched body in his arms. A grey-skinned Tiefling with oddly shaped horn stumps — like imprints of giant fingers that once molded her out of clay — and with a crude makeshift amulet resting on her marble-still chest. A little acorn on a chain.

Just moments ago, he felt so proud of her. His beautiful champion, stalwart and strong, looking her profane father in the face and defying him. That acorn was his promise to her — they were supposed to make it through this, like storybook wayfarers returning home from lands of fire and death; they were supposed to build a life together, sheltered from the darkness that has been tormenting them both.

They were so close. So close. Maybe they still are, maybe she is just asleep in his arms, exhausted by battling her father from within her very flesh... No. The thought is coming from that child, the ever-hopeful little Ravengard. Wyll never thought he'd come back.

The child still dreams, still years for tomorrow — but his tomorrow is cold, empty-eyed, with not a whisper of breath between her darkly bitten lips, or underneath the little acorn.

Behind Wyll's back, there are no footfalls. Not a hint of presence, until the silence is broken by that peculiar dusty drawl.

Withers has this way of hovering slightly above ground, whenever his fancy strikes him. This would have been a great subject for frivolous camp gossip in another lifetime, when among all the tadpole squirms and the horrors of Faerun's deepest long-forgotten corners, Wyll still had his love, his poem incarnate, by his side. But now he could not care less about skeleton antics. Until —

"Tis not fair," the ancient scribe agrees, softly, with a hint of what, in any other being's tone of voice, might have been... Tenderness.

"And I shall not allow it."

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Are they on the Naughty List? Or have they’ve been good all year?Well that’s for you to decide.

Start:November 12

End: December 31

«timeline»

◇ day 1-7: {Nov 12-18}

Day 1: Luis Sera - Ice Skating

Day 2: Carlos Oliveira - “I can’t believe you did that to Santa…”

Day3: Raiden - “I made you some hot cocoa.”

Day 4: Peter Parker - we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party || Insomniac Peter ||

Day5:Goro Takemura- Dancing In The Snow

Day 6:Johhny Cage-Sucking on a Candy Cane

Day 7: Peter Quill- “are you really playing christmas music already? it’s barely november”

◇ day 8-14: {Nov 19-25}

Day 8:Gale Dekarios-Watching the snowfall from inside a cosy house

Day 9:Sam Drake-“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better then November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”

Day 10:Peter Parker -we got a little too carried away with the Christmas lights, and now suddenly my hands are bound with the lights and oh my god are we about to have sex? || Insomniac Peter ||

Day 11:Nathan Drake- it’s holiday dinner with your family, and oh Jesus where are your hands going?

Day 12:Peter Parker-“Do you need help hanging up the Christmas lights?” || MCU verse ||

Day 13: Peter Parker-“HAPPY NOVEMBER!” “No one wishes anyone a happy November.” “Well I just did.”|| MCU verse ||

Day 14:Tadashi Hamada-one lending the other their scarf to keep them warm.

◇ day 15-21 {Nov 26-Dec 2}

Day 15:Jacob Seed-Handing their S/O a positive pregnancy test with a sprig of holly and a note reading ‘Merry Christmas’

Day 16:Spencer Reid-Baking holiday cookies.

Day 17:Alejandro Vargas-Reader wearing nothing but a Santa hat

Day 18:Loki-A naughty sleigh ride || Exhibitionism sex ||

Day 19:Alex Casey-Build A snowman.

Day 20:Chris Redfield-“Let’s do something that puts us on the naughty list.”

Day 21:Mike Schmidt-Santa Baby: reader has decided to dress as Mrs. Claus for a little more “adult” Christmas fun. Oh boy!

◇ day 22-28 {Dec 3 -9}

Day 22:Matt Murdock-I picked you for secret Santa but I wrapped the wrong box so now I’ve given you a very festive sex toy, and oh my god this is so embarrassing

Day 23:Halsin-“Breasts/thighs are my favorite part to nibble on.”

Day 24:Miguel O’Hara-“You know, tying the legs together keeps everything moist.”

Day 25:Ethan Winters-Christmas Morning.

Day 26: Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish-Hanging Stockings.

Day 27:Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley-“The turkey’s not the only thing getting stuffed today.”

Day 28:Modern!Mizu-“Save some of that whipped cream for later.”*soon*

◇ day 29- 35 {Dec 10-16}

Day 29:Bigby Wolf-“You look even more beautiful covered in snow.”

Day 30:Harry Osborn-Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean

Day 31:Ethan Winters-“I’ll be content if you are the one stuffing my stocking.”

Day 32:Mike Schmidt-“Go on, open it.”

Day 33:Wyll Ravengard-“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”

Day 34: Bruno Madrigal-Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe.

Day 35:Jordan Li-“Excuse me—where is my Christmas kiss?”

◇ day 36-42 {Dec 17-23}

Day 36:Mike Schmidt-"Why are there so many mistletoe?"

Day 37:Gojo“I’d like to be one of the unhealthy things you put inside your body this weekend.”*Soon*

Day 38:Luis Sera-“Alright, mister. I know you’re the one who keeps hanging up mistletoe everywhere."

Day 39:Chris Redfield-“Thanksgiving is for giving thanks” “And for body slamming each other during the family football match!”

Day 40:Aaron Hotchner-The scent of real Christmas trees

Day 41: Derek Morgan -“I’m going to have you stuffed better than the turkey by the end of the night.”

Day 42:Victor "Sully" Sullivan-“I’m not much of a cook, but I’m good at glazing.”

◇ day 43-50 {Dec 24-31}

Day 43:Leon S. Kennedy-Cabin Sex { Christmas Eve sex }

Day 44: Billy Butcher-“Merry Christmas, motherfuckers!”

Day 45: Bucky Barnes-“Did you spike the eggnog again?”

Day 46: Spencer Ried-“Will you make a gingerbread house with me?”

Day 47: Clint Barton- “It’s Snowing”

Day 48: Joel-Peppermint-flavoured everything

Day 49:Mizu-Snow/temperature play

Day 50:Johnny Cage-“It’s time for hand turkey’s everyone.” “FUCK YES YES!”

[att9me]

Get to Know My Tav!

(I saw this template and had to get all of this out my head!)

Tufani Anu / Human / Storm Sorcerer / He/Him / 26

What’s your Tav’s…

Favorite Weapon: Cacophony Quarterstaff (prefers to cast via his hands though)

Style of Combat: Long-Range, Blaster, Crowd-Control; Tufani prefers to lead his companions from behind, like a general. He’ll hang back or fly high to cast his elemental spells to do powerful blasts and widespread damage or use the weather to alter the battlefield for his allies.

Most Prized Possession: A divination mirror given to him by his belated grandmother. It allows to him divine truths, aid in rituals, and speak to his ancestors.

Deepest Desire: Tufani is pragmatic and responsible by nature and through guidance from his parents and elders. However, deep down lies a free spirit that longs to live in the sky with nothing beneath him but the blue of the sea.

Guilty Pleasure: Sweets/Desserts. He has a big sweet tooth especially for cakes and breakfast pastries.

Best-Kept Secret: He comes from a long line of powerful, elemental sorcerers via his mother (an earth sorcerer). Therefore, his elemental magic is very intertwined with his emotions and he must keep them in check to cast effectively. The tattoo on his face is also not just for aesthetics. It’s a mark of his heritage and serves as his arcane focus.

Greatest Strength: Empathy, Compassion. Tufani was raised by not just his immediate family but also extended family and the surrounding community as well. He was taught to use his magic to help and aid others. This is why he looks after the companions so much as well those they help on their journey.

Fatal Flaw: Overextension/Addicted to responsibility. Tufani is conditioned to helping out his family, friends, and community so much that it spreads him thin and wears him out. Unfortunately, he repeats this pattern with the camp companions and all the helpless people the meet on their way to Baldur’s Gate that it leads to him being overwhelmed and burned out.

Favorite Smell: Floral and Tropical scents.

Favorite Spell or Cantrip: Ice Storm and Ice Knife. As a Storm sorcerer, Tufani’s atmokinetic magic gives him control over multiple elements: wind/air/thunder, rain/fog/mist/water, light/heat/lightning, and cold/ice. To most people’s surprise, ice is his go-to element, not lightning. It’s the element that intertwines with his anger and it feels good to let it out.

Pet Peeve: Arrogance, Selfishness. Tufani detests arrogance as well as wanton selfishness. He’s not opposed to one putting themselves first , if necessary. However, when it comes before the survival and needs of others, absolutely not. This is initially why he clashes with Astarion and Lae’zel.

Bad Habit: Self- Isolation. Despite growing up surrounded by so many people, Tufani is an introvert by nature. He loves to be by himself when he gets the chance. However, it’s also a coping mechanism that he uses to hide his emotions and vulnerability. Usually leading him to not seek help when he needs to.

Hidden Talent: Expert Gardener/Herbalist. Tufani has a natural affinity with nature. Thus, his love for gardening and herbalism is one of his favorite pass-times. The hobby was passed down to him from both his mother and grandmother. Tufani is also a great at drawing a talent he gets from his father. He usually likes to draw scenes and stills from nature and occasionally people (when they aren’t looking).

Leisure Activity: Reading. He loves to read books about history, botany, and animals. He’ll also read an adventure book from time to time.

Favorite Drink: Tea. He also enjoys the occasional Whalebone Spiced.

Comfort Food: Seafood (especially calamari and crab). He is native to isles and thus has a love for heavily spiced seafood much to Gale’s chagrin (they argue over being camp cook as much as they debate sorcerer vs wizards).

Favorite Person: Wyll Ravengard

Favorite Display of Affection (Platonic and/or Romantic): Interlocking of Arms. He loves it when Wyll offers his arm for him to wrap his own hand or arm around it.

Fondest Childhood Memory: Attending the island festivals with his parents.

And that’s my tav, Tufani Anu! I’ve had these thoughts in my head for a while now and it feels good to finally get it all out.