#not much opportunity for it in avernus

[incorrect-bhaalspawn-quotes]

Karlach: Do you know what I haven't said to anyone in a long time? "I love you."

[amnestria-the-elf]

So we're all just supposed to be fucking grateful that Larian gave us "new Wyll content" (evil ending for a man who is canonically incorruptible, what the fuck) and simultaneously broke him again (giving low approval greetings to a romanced PC, what the fuck).

I... I just... the simultaneous feelings of rage and utter hopelessness are overwhelming.

Listen, if you've read any of my posts you know I have a pretty clear "Don't yuck anyone's yum" policy. If you think an evil Wyll ending is interesting, fine. But here's why it falls flat for me.

First, like I said above, Wyll is canonically incorruptible. It's literally the entire basis of his character. He is a man who was coerced into making an infernal contract to save a city and had to pay a horrible price for doing so, then spent seven fucking years alone in the wilderness doing his damned best to protect the people of the Sword Coast, while all along telling his horrible, abusive patron to just fuck off already.

Now, could you argue that during the events of the game, Wyll develops a taste for evil? Sure. There are plenty of opportunities for his villain origin story to unfold. But they never do. His moral compass never wavers. Turned into a devil? He feels shame, because it's an outward sign that he was doing things for Mizora that were morally wrong, and he didn't see it before. His approval rating for the PC shoots through the roof if you save Karlach, a sure indicator of his true moral compass. His father kidnapped? Fuck that noise, we're gonna save him. Rescue Zariel's "asset"? Ugh, fine, but don't get distracted from the real reason we're here. His father gets tadpoled? Oh hells no, we're gonna take down these assholes and save the godsdamned world. His father accuses him of being an agent of a devil and is super pissy about it? "Everything I did, I did for the people of the Sword Coast."

For fuck's sake, he will leave the party if the PC gets too evil, even knowing it means he'll probably turn into a mindflayer immediately. Even if he's romancing the PC. Unwavering moral compass. So giving him an evil ending without also going back and changing everything about his character just feels like lazy writing to me.

Which brings me to the second reason all of this rubs the wrong way. Wyll deserves so much more content. More romanced greetings, more reactions to other characters' choices, a final boss battle that is actually about him, a default ending that actually makes fucking sense (I have another post cooking about the Avernus ending, so I will leave it for now.)

And please, spare me your "But Wyll was rewritten after early access" bullshit. That's Larian's problem. They chose to listen to feedback and do a late-stage rewrite. They then chose to implement it poorly and never fucking fix it. Other characters, who already have far more content than Wyll, have had even more added over the course of the seven released patches. Wyll, on the other hand, has been sitting around completely ignored until now when we get this evil ending.

Many have rightfully pointed out the inherent racism steeped in all of this. I want Larian to be better. But as Maya Angelou said, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them." I already didn't have much hope about Patch 7 for Wyll, but this... honestly, this is worse than him just being ignored again.

The thing that kills me the most is that this is just going to be more fodder for the fandom to completely mischaracterize Wyll, for those who already haven't bothered to think critically about his character at all to just be like, oh, cool, Wyll is evil now. Nope. You've completely missed the point.

I'm just... so tired. I've worked very hard to put this little bubble of Wyll enthusiasts around me (hi friends I love you all!) so that I can hold on to some shred of sanity in this fandom. The world needs heroes of color. Just let Wyll be the hero in peace.

[kalaidekalou]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's about bloody time, darling."

This went through a lot of iterations and tbh I’m not even sure if it’s exactly what I wanted but I’m content to post.

This is a companion piece for a fic I wrote for PhantomStutter for a Secret Santa on the Bloodweave Inn server.

Snippet and link to the complete fic:

The ticking clock was the worst part. The room itself wasn’t so bad—an expansive, endless stretch of soft gray light that shifted and flickered like twilight caught between clouds. It wasn’t oppressive, but it wasn’t particularly welcoming either. It simply was  as though it had existed for eternity and would continue to exist until the end of all things. And somehow he knew this despite only being a resident of the place for the last… Well, how much time did pass? The ticking, though. That grated on Astarion’s nerves. He lounged in one of the high-backed armchairs that dotted the space like forgotten furniture of a long-abandoned parlor, his legs draped elegantly over one armrest. The large grandfather clock stood like a monolith at the center of the space. Ticking. Every now and then, Astarion would fling a pillow at it, or even a smaller chair. But the damned thing remained unscathed, undisturbed, ticking on with smug indifference. It’s not that he hated the place. Not exactly. It’s not like he was spending an eternity in Avernus or any of the other Nine Hells for his misdeeds. But it wasn’t heaven , either—not the warm embrace of Elysium or the radiant afterlife he might have hoped for before his undead passing. The irony not lost on him. He hadn’t been so naive as to think himself immune to death—immortality or not, adventuring came with its risks—but it was the how of it that gnawed at him. The chaos of that final moment, hearing Gale’s panicked cry, the sharp flash of a silver blade—it still stung. He reached for his phantom wound at the memory. His end had been messy, sudden, unceremonious.  And deeply and maddeningly unsatisfying. So... anticlimactic. Limbo was dull, though not unbearable. He had, after all, survived far worse. And it wasn’t without its entertainments. One of the so-called perks of his limbo—if one could call it that—was the occasional opportunity to slip into the living world. At first, Astarion had eagerly roamed the streets of Baldur’s Gate, unseen and untouchable, drifting through the familiar alleys and squares he’d once haunted in life, trying to figure out why he could visit. He’d sometimes catch a startled scream or gasp when someone glimpsed the faint shimmer of his misted form, and—on maybe more than one occasion—he may have indulged in a jump scare or two, just to keep things interesting. It was hardly his fault if the living lacked composure. He’d even lingered near comforting faces, friends who he cared for dearly—Karlach growing old alongside Wyll, the two of them eventually settling into lives of guiding young adventurers rather than diving into the fray themselves. When their time came, Astarion had hoped, foolishly perhaps, that one or the other might stop by this dreary limbo.  Even a brief visit, a simple "Hello, we missed you, and life was dreadfully boring without you," would have sufficed. But no, of course not. Their good-natured heroism and selflessness had likely earned them a direct passage to some well-deserved paradise, leaving no reason to fester in a place as unfinished as this.  Lae’zel, who had fought valiantly until her very last breath, had certainly earned her place in the afterlife of her people—though Astarion wouldn’t be surprised if she’d ended up in the arms of Selûne instead, given that Shadowheart had remained steadfastly by her side until the end.  Once, he could have sworn he saw Halsin’s figure in the distance of this unending place, just out of reach, but all too soon it disappeared after stepping through the clock's veil that marked some unseen boundary. At least that moment gave him some comfort—proof that all this waiting served some purpose. One by one, they all passed on, leaving Toril behind for whatever lay beyond. All except Gale. The person he had hoped would be the first to join him. 

link to the full fic

[finnfrei]

I would love to hear more about your bard and her dragonborn 🥺👉👈

Aww, thank you so much for asking! Tbh, I always feel shy sharing the stories of my OCs, so I really appreciate your interest🩵

Where do I even begin? (Also, English is not my first or even second language, so I apologize for my poor writing in advance).

Clio is my changeling bard from our current homebrew DnD campaign and she’s the little ray of sunshine, who’s hiding her trauma behind a cheerful innocent smile. Or at least she used to be up until the party’s current adventure in Avernus. Quite early in life she realized how easy it is to lure secrets from people, when you look cute and play dumb.

Once she set out on an adventure with the party, she had a dream. A charming stranger in a dragon mask at a ball challenged her to play a complex composition. Non of what she saw on the music sheet he gave her made sense, it couldn’t sound good. But Clio was not the one to fuck around with and she started playing, struggling at first, but getting the grip of it. As the music played, the dirty secrets of people in the room started to reveal themselves to her overflowing her mind. The man asked her to meet him in the house of upper city where the party was headed.

That was how she met him, the man in the mask wasn’t a man she saw in the dream, but an emerald Dragonborn. Hescan was a commander of Secret Police and Master of College of Whispers. This tough mountain of muscles with cold gaze and devious grin was barely showing any genuine emotions. It felt familiar, she’s so used to putting on a mask herself, different ones, but still. He played cool and unbothered. Some even might say he looked dangerous, but Clio had met dangerous, cruel men way too many times before and wasn’t so easily fooled by him. She found it adorable on him. The feeling of safety around him puzzled her. He suggested her to work for him, collecting information, dragging skeletons out of others closets. She thought it would be fun to finally get paid for something she does anyway, never taking the job too seriously though. And well, girl asked for the direction of the nearest brothel, hoping to get some intelligence from local prostitutes, knowing full well about the amount of secrets kept by all the creatures, who aren’t taken seriously by rich and powerful. However, the dragonborn jokingly suggested her his bedroom. Joke got out of control. Bards being bards, I guess.

It all started with both of them trying to get intimate, “have fun” just to let down the other’s guard to get under their skin and lure more secrets from each other. Learn each other’s weaknesses, but also trying to secure the other’s loyalty. Hescan was playing cool and distant, meanwhile Clio was taunting him any time she saw an opportunity, shamelessly trying the limits of his patience. She liked to call him “pretty boy” and only called him “chief” in jest, he knew it also turned her on.

Eventually the more they learned the more they started to genuinely care about one another. They both knew what it was like feeling your body, your boundaries violated, used for someone else’s sick whims. They found comfort, they knew they were safe with each other, even if just for the night. Although they both had a hard time admitting it. After all it would mean to admit they had lost the game.

Now with a few years passed, they still have hard time fully trusting each other, given their occupation. She still makes fun of him, he finds it cute. He knows he can rely on her, so as she does.

There were so many sweet and funny moments between these two and to be honest the scenes where they admitted their feelings to each other, letting down their guards, live rent free in my mind.

[faerievampling]

A Vampire's Courage

Summary: The Dark Urge and Spawn!Astarion, after having decided to remain friends, have been traveling together after the defeat of the Netherbrain. One night, an opportunity strikes, and Astarion makes his move.

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x Female Dark Urge

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: 18+, Explicit. PiV. Oral Sex. Vaginal Fingering.

Here's the link to AO3!

It was nice to know Astarion watched you as you slept, because the nightmares never really went away. After you refused your birthright, your nightmares simply became about the nightmares that Bhaal had plagued you with. 

When you and Astarion began to travel alone, it became something you both needed just so you could rest. It reminded him of the nights you spent together: he had watched you as you slept then, too. 

You had ended things after he had to tie you up to prevent you from killing him. But the two of you remained close friends. After the battle, everyone went their separate ways: Shadowheart had her parents, Karlach and Wyll went to Avernus, Lae’zel to fight a war with Vlaakith, and Gale to his mother and tower in Waterdeep. 

But you and Astarion really only had each other. Which was okay with you. You had continued to be an adventurer, with the ultimate goal of finding a way for Astarion to walk in the sun. 

But after a few months, your need for…privacy was overwhelming. And you didn’t really know how to tell Astarion this. You thought of hiring a prostitute, one who would be gentle or sweet with you, but you certainly couldn’t trust a stranger - you used to kill strangers all the time!

No, you wanted to just be alone, to pleasure yourself as much as you’d like and get it out of your system. 

Astarion being around didn’t help, either. You had always been quite attracted to him, and nowadays, he was around you far too often with his shirt off. To see him at the fall of night, when he rises from sleep, looking so handsome and restful, was pure temptation being left at your doorstep. 

You often thought about your nights together, and you wondered if he did too. But the two of you were so close now, you thought maybe it was wrong of you. You didn’t know, you were kind of born less than a year ago. You were still figuring out the world.

After the two of you had cleaned up from a fight, you drink at the inn, as you always did. Strangers often approached you: you and Astarion were quite a sight.

“Maybe we should disguise ourselves,” You jokingly offer, taking a large sip of ale as you try to ignore the burning stare from across the room. 

“I rather like turning them down, don’t you, darling?” He asks teasingly, giving you a naughty look over his wine glass. 

You hum. “I wish I didn't have to.” You realize you’ve had too much to drink, and you fear that maybe you're forgetting the ‘some things are for private and not public’ talk Astarion had with you. 

Astarion’s eyebrows knit. “What do you mean?”

“It’s…I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s private,” You recite, trying to cue him in while also realizing when you’ve been too vulnerable, too open. 

That woman was walking over now, and she was really unsettling. Something about her, maybe it was just her looks, but even the way she handled herself: she reminded you of Kressa. and Kressa reminded you of Orin. And Orin reminded you of….every disgustingly sinful thing you could recall. It was all so vague, so random and spotty, but you knew. 

You suddenly have the urge to jump out of your skin. Astarion notices her, too, and he reaches his hand across the table, taking yours in his. “Let’s get out of here, my darling. I’m famished, and you are exactly the treat I need,” he flirts, and you know it’s his act to get you away from the approaching woman, who has now retreated upon hearing Astarion’s declaration. 

His hand is cool, but it feels nice cradled in your own. You want to interlock your fingers with his, but you think twice. Once you get to your shared room, Astarion sits beside you on your bed. 

“Better now?”

“Yes, thank you,” You say, giving his hand a squeeze before releasing it, bringing your hand to mindlessly play with the ends of your hair. “Now that we’re in private, I can say whatever I’d like, right?”

“You can always say whatever you want, my dear. I just want you to be careful with who you share information with.” 

“But I can trust you.”

“Yes,” He says with conviction, his gaze soft and deep. 

But you cower under his devastating beauty. He was so handsome, and so close to you. Your mind was still on his hand and the way he had touched you; it was enough to send a shiver of arousal through your body. You felt that wetness between your thighs and you cursed at yourself because you knew that he knew.

“I don’t need to tell you. Don’t make me say it,” You turn your face away, trying to hide your rising blush from the fucking vampire, as if you could. Your heart is racing, and you wish he wouldn’t have sat so close to you. 

You look back at him as you speak. “I-I just need some privacy, is all.” 

His pupils dilate, his stare intense as he stands up. “Yes, of course, I understand,” You think he’s stumbling with his words, too. He has a familiar look on his face, like there’s something on the tip of his tongue, but he looks away from you. “And I won’t even tease you about it too much, my dear.”

You mindlessly rub your thighs together, trying to tangle with your rising heat. You think he’s about to leave, but he doesn’t move.

After a moment, “But, I could…help you. Be with you.” He turns to you, his eyes round and wet, and this was definitely not the reaction you had expected. It reminded you of when he confessed his feelings for you - and a pang of regret fills your heart. 

Astarion sits beside you again, taking your hand in his. “Don’t question this. If you want this, then just let me keep going, or I’ll lose my courage,” His voice is barely above a whisper, and his other hand slowly reaches for your jaw. 

His touch is light and curious. 

He brings his face close to yours, and you can feel the flutter of his pretty eyelashes against your skin as your eyes shut. His breath is on you, and your heart is racing. 

When you fail to stifle a moan, Astarion can’t help it any longer.

His lips meet yours decidedly, his grip on your jaw becoming just a bit tighter. His kisses are so soft, and Astarion moans when he gently pushes his tongue between your lips.

“So sweet,” Astarion breaks the kiss to whisper against your skin.

You only think about what Astarion said for a moment before his hand is trailing down your breast, undoing the laces of your shirt as you go.

Part of you wants him to stop, to slow down, because you’re afraid you’ll hurt him, or his touches will become painful, despite how featherlight they are: but none of these things happen as he frees your breasts from the clasp that keeps them from him.  

He breaks your soft kisses to eye your chest as he takes off his own shirt; and you can’t help but ogle him. But he’s doing the same to you, so you assure yourself it’s okay, that this is okay. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He places a kiss on your nipple, making you squirm in desperation. 

Astarion’s lips are on you again, and he’s pushing you back on the bed. He’s made expert work of the laces of your trousers, and he tugs them off, bringing your underclothes with them.

You’re fully naked, and feeling vulnerable - it had been a few months since you and Astarion had been together. And he was the only one you could remember.

You wonder if he even knew that. You don’t think you ever told him, but you think maybe that’s important. The thought completely disappears from your mind when Astarion brings his strong hands to spread your legs, revealing your glistening, swollen cunt. Your lips are puffy, your clit engorged, and you feel embarrassed by Astarion’s sudden examination of your sex. 

“Perfect,” He says, looking up at you as he places a kiss to your clit, a string of your juices trailing from his pretty lips. You couldn’t believe how desperate you were. His lips are on you again, his tongue lapping at your folds as he tastes you.  

Astarion is moaning against your sex, and he reluctantly pulls away from you only to finish undressing himself. Your heart is pounding wildly as you see the spring of his hardened sex, and you have nearly forgotten its size. 

Your vampiric friend doesn’t make you wait long before his lips are on your cunt again. His tongue is making slow, steady circles around your clit, and you think you might unravel beneath him right here and now. 

But Astarion must want to keep doing this with you, because he shifts his focus to your entrance. He pushes his tongue between your slick walls, meaning to taste your depths, something he had never done to you before. There was something intimate about it, something desperate and wanting, and he went as deep as his tongue would allow. 

He moved his tongue in and out of you, the sensation of his nose pressing against your clit driving you mad. 

His ruby eyes are watching you, locked on yours, and they are so unlike the other times you’d been with Astarion.

He was there. He was present, and he wanted to make you come, and he surely had other plans beyond that. 

By the time his lips wrap around your clit again, the waves of pleasure have built up, so high that every sensation of his touch sends shocks throughout your body. Every swipe of his tongue, every caress and light touch he’s leaving on your waist, your hips, your nipples: it drives you mad. Your cunt is convulsing before either of you can stop it, and you’re coming on his tongue.

Astarion releases you from his lips once you squirm away from him as he overstimulates you. 

“You’re delicious, love,” His voice is low and gruff, and gods is it sexy. “You must have a taste,“ is all he can manage before he crashes his lips into yours, fangs threatening to break the skin of your bottom lip. 

Your come is nearly tasteless, like water, and with its musk filling your nose, you understood why Astarion liked it. Suddenly, you were eager to taste his.

When one of his dexterous fingers probes your entrance, the sensation reminds you of her, you don’t even know what it is you recall, but your muscles instinctively contract after just a knuckle has entered you.

Astarion pulls away from you, eyes round with concern, pupils blown in lust. You can see how much he wants you, and Astarion is your best friend: your partner in crime. You trusted him fully.

And so, you blink away the thoughts of the past, and try to move forward. 

“More, please, Astarion,“ You moan, earning a sloppy grin from him as he gently eases two fingers into your entrance with almost no resistance. 

You can’t help but look at his strong hands and forearms as he begins to work on you, his dexterous fingers caressing that sweet spot inside of you that makes your legs tremble. You can see his veins, his muscles moving beneath his beautiful porcelain skin, and it makes it all more pleasurable.

“Like what you see?” He teases you, causing you to tilt your chin back to his face, which is arguably even more beautiful than any other inch of him: no, you think. He is just gorgeous all over. Plain and simple. 

“Yes, you’re so…” but you drift off, because Astarion is hitting that delicate spot inside you over and over, and you’re a mess. Astarion has captured your lips again, entrapping you in deep, tender kisses as you desperately clench around him, your juices flowing down his wrist and onto the bed.

“Gods above,” Astarion moans, pulling his fingers out of you before he uses your juices to wet his cock, pumping it in his fist as his eyes roam over you. “Let me give you more, darling, please.”

You aren’t sure what he means by this; you think it could be many things, or at least several things, but you aren’t good with figuring stuff out like that. By the context, you deduce that at the very least, he certainly means he wants to fuck you with his cock. 

His curls are disheveled, the tips of his hair bouncing as he thrusts into himself. His chin and nose are still wet with your juices, and you want to give him so much more. 

But you feared that if you continued on like this, if you let him fuck you, come in you, bite you, hold you, any of those things, you were seriously fucked if this was one sided. But then again, you were already so far gone. The man’s tongue had been inside you, for gods sake!

Yes, it was far, far too late for you.

Your heart was in his hand. Astarion must have seen you size yourself down; using his free hand, he tenderly cups your jaw, drawing you into a kiss that makes your heart jump in your chest. It brings back your courage.

“Please, Astarion, I want you inside of me,” You breathe against his jaw, and he moans at your words, pulling away to line himself up with your entrance. 

You feel the pressure as his tip pushes against your walls; Astarion is already a lost man, by what you can see. His eyebrows are drawn together, his eyes narrowed and focused on the sight of him pushing into you; his mouth is parted, and the tip of his fangs visible beyond his pretty full lips. 

Once he’s halfway inside you, he begins to slowly move in and out of you. He throws his head back with a sigh of relief as his pace quickens. 

“I’ve thought about this more than you know,” His words make your heart thump wildly in your chest, and he smiles at your reaction. Before he can push himself any further into you, his pace slows, and he brings his torso down to yours.

His kisses are so sweet, his tongue so gentle in your mouth, and he’s been so delicate with you, you can’t help the tears that start to fall down your cheeks. 

Astarion pulls away, his eyes locked to you as he plants a kiss to one tear and uses a thumb to swipe another. Before more tears could fall, Astarion’s pace quickens again, and his lips are planted to yours, wrapping you up in ecstasy. 

But the moment Astarion pushes deeper inside of you, he loses control, and he’s saying your name as he comes thick ropes of seed inside you. 

You sit up, giving Astarion some space to recover, as he did all the work. You sat at the edge of the bed and Astarion lay on his back. You realize you’ve totally zoned out once you feel the tips of Astarion’s fingers graze your naked back, sending a shiver through your body.

“What are you thinking?” Astarion prompts you. Surely, you can’t tell him that you are thinking you’re hopelessly in love with him and you want to spend forever with him. 

And this may have been irresponsible of you, too; you were a fertile woman, and you were a Bhaalspawn. You weren't sure about vampire fertility, or if the child would even be a Bhaalspawn considering your Father took away his essence in you. But you didn’t know. You couldn’t be sure. 

“I was thinking that was very special to me, and I was hoping you felt the same.” You thought that was pretty good and summed up your feelings well enough. Without the undying love part and the pesky fertility thing. Bah.

You hear Astarion sit up behind you. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had, love,” he says with a melancholy chuckle,”Yes, that was special to me. Everytime with you has been. You are very special to me.”

Before you can turn to face him, he wraps his arm around your waist, drawing you into him, maneuvering your back to his chest. He kisses your temple, and you close your eyes, trying to imagine a normal wedding to him rather than a Bhaalist one.

Masterlist

[wakacreations]

Infernal Nightly Habits

I am taking a bit of rest from writing. Maybe some day I will revisit this as a short little one-shots.

Zevlor:

Lullabies: It is a habit he find himself doing whenever he prepares for bed. Either humming a soft tune if he has more energy whistle it but when your head hits the pillow he will sing the words of old ballads as you already drifted off to sleep. Why does he do it? There were many children who couldn't sleep under his care. That was what he would say whenever he was caught. When he was in Elturel to Avernus and on the road to Baldur's Gate all opportunity to have possible deniability. Truthfully it's to keep the last of his fond memories alive when he was once in your stead dreaming peacefully, to comfortably fall asleep to the sound of a voice you loved so dear. Light sleeper: Years of being a Hellrider left its mark on him and even before then he couldn't help wake up to the slightest sound. Was there something there or was it his imagination? Was that the usual noises of the night? It is better to get up and check for himself to never leave his guard down for any moment not again. Insomniac: His body would collapse before his mind would allow him to rest. Wide awake he would be watching the sky transition from the deep midnight to the swirling pinks of first light and finally to the raising yellows of dawn. What keeps the Hellrider up in the night? It changes each night of which transgression he committed comes to ravage his mind but seeing you sleeping soundly puts his stuttering heart at ease. If he to be forever plagued to never find rest he will find it vicariously through you and that is enough for him.

Rolan:

Storytime: He reads before bed that's not unusual for the wizard. Sometimes he reads the words aloud without realizing it. If you were to comment on his reading he would apologize for disturbing you. He will make a conscious effort to be quiet though you still will catch snippets of his mumbled words. If sleep does not come easy to you he would read whatever book that he is currently engaged with. When he feels comfortable one night he would sheepishly propose another story not one he currently has on hand but ones he recalls from memory. Moments long before Avernus where he would be off on some misadventures with his siblings through the streets of Elturel. Maybe one of being chased and scolded by Hellrider Tilses while on her patrol, another of accidental fires started by the trio in his mother's bakery and who knows what other stories he left tucked away in the recesses of his mind. When he's feeling sentimental recall old childish tales he would read with Cal, Lia and his mother long ago or playing the game of creating a make believe tale till sleep waters the eyes. By the end of the story you found yourself still awake looking at the wizard who is fast asleep instead. Heavy sleeper: He will sleep through the chaos around him. Shake the wizard or make as much noises as you want to no avail he is off in dreamland. How else would you achieve rest living with Cal and Lia for so long? Just don't say his name while he's asleep he will begrudgingly be awake even at the slightest whisper. Ingrained into him that calling his name means morning, you will have to pull the wizard back to bed before he decides to get a early start to the day. Somewhere in his half thoughts he will come up with a reason to argue that yes, he needs to be awake at this hour though it is still night. He will fall back to sleep when settled back in again and maybe one more story before bed. Sleep talker: He does know he does it on a very rare occasion but he does not recall whatever he supposedly uttered. You find that he sleep talks the most when he is under stress or if there is a nagging thought he tries to suppress in waking life. Usually he just babbling random nonsense from whatever dream he is having. Sometimes you can converse with him if you asked what is happening in a dream and he will answer.

Raphael:

Penning: There is always work to be done that needs to be inked down onto parchment whether it be for a contract, a plan yet to come to fruition or a spark of his own genius that needs to be scrawled for his own personal works. The act is therapeutic as much as you and Haarlep give him looks at the littered crumbled drafts thrown about between grumbles of another attempt that doesn't meet his own satisfaction. Night terrors: He does not require much rest yet even so there is enough time for him to dream. Whatever these potential premonitions are he will decipher its meaning. Though there is another who appears there beside him in the chaos a voice that is always squeaking and squealing for his attention during the finale as he meets his end. Unconscious cuddler: The devil you know is at your beck and call always drawn to a desperate soul. If sleep doesn't find you it will through suffocation from being smothered from the weight of his body pressing you into the silken sheets or being squeezed to the brink of death. If you are unlucky his claws dig into you as he pulls you around in his sleep whichever way he desires. He only sleeps with himself was but a warning from Haarlep to you. Most others do not live through what would be a night.

Haarlep:

Impies: They enjoy the company of their imp pets before bed. Throwing them across the boudoir and hearing them squeal in delight sometimes terror when they land onto hard surfaces. Haarlep would gossip with their pets telling lie after lie about the happenings in the House of Hope. It doesn't matter what they choose to tell these creatures even if there were truths scattered in their own words. Come morning these impies will be replaced with another. The least Haarlep could do is wish them a good night from this plane and dote on them until a new plaything comes to spend the night or just the usual one. Restless sleeper: They are never comfortable and when they do finally lay still somehow they always position themselves for the optimum of your discomfort. Spreading themselves to take up as much room as they please, sleeping at odd angles so with the slightest of a nudge push you off the bed and whatever else possess them to flail their limbs around at just a simple touch. When you somehow fall asleep in a contorted position you wake up no different than when you awake up after a day of battle. Still so tired, sore, bruised and hesitant to stretch in case of a cramp. There are still worst bedfellows but this is still not the worst you have encountered. Snores: It is almost comedic the way they snore. Sometimes soft whistling, at some point would be like those of snarling animals even loud enough to where you question are your own eyes shaking and then the usually choking coughs of breathed in spittle. When you mention their snores as a off handed jest, they would simply deflect with a simple phrases of can't help yourself sweet pet and I don't blame you for staring. You already miss my attentions already far be it from me to leave a greedy little thief waiting.

[asillylittleistik]

do you have any headcanons for alpha karlach with omega tav? or fic ideas? I love her so much🤭

KARLACH MY BELOVEDDDDD

I have so many thoughts on this, I love Karlach so much

Also, you didn't specify if you wanted this to be SFW or not, so I'm gonna play it safe and keep it mostly clean, but if you ever want an NSFW fic or some headcanons, just send in a new request and I can write some for sure

Alpha Karlach With Omega Reader

Okay can I just say that you will never in your life be with someone who is both as lovingly gentle and violently protective as Karlach

I have a headcanon that, since Karlach was sent to Avernus at a fairly young age, and hasn't been out for very long at all, that you are her first relationship

She's heard all the horror stories from you and some other omegas about creepy alphas who only care about hooking up, and will take any opportunity or push any boundary to get what they want

And being one of those creepy alphas is the last thing Karlach wants

So she is so gentle with you, almost as if you were made of porcelain

She's so subservient to your every need that someone who didn't know better might assume you're the alpha

But she just cares about your well-being so much

On the other hand, though, she is extremely cautious that none of those creepy alphas get anywhere near you

If she sees someone checking you out, flirting a little bit, or god forbid trying to take you out anywhere, she's at your side in an instant

She usually doesn't even need to say much, her appearance alone is intimidating enough

A tall, muscular, pissed-off tiefling, covered in battle scars, carrying a great axe on her back, and literally on fire is usually enough to scare creeps off

But for those that don't get the hint, she isn't afraid to get her hands a little dirty

And then she's immediately at your side again, cupping your face and asking if you're okay as if she doesn't have blood dripping off her knuckles

She just cares so much that you never feel objectified or pressured by anyone, especially her

When your first heat comes, she, respectfully, tries to stay as far away as possible

She doesn't want to take advantage of you in such a delicate state

It's not until one day, after a long day of adventuring, she comes back absolutely DEVASTATED to find her stuffed bear, Clive, is nowhere to be seen

It isn't until she makes her way over to your tent that she sees you've made a little nest in there of all the bedrolls and pillows you all have pillaged in your journey

And then she sees you, bare naked, dripping with sweat, and hugging onto Clive like it was your lifeline

And when her eyes meet yours, all you can say is "he smells like you."

You know she can't leave after that.

For a little while, there's this torturous little game you and Karlach have to play

You want to be around her, but just being in the same tent isn't enough. You want to touch her and feel her body all around yours

But Karlach on a normal day is too hot to touch, and horny Karlach? Yeah, she's nearly set the tent on fire a few times now

She makes peace with it, with not being able to touch you, as terrible as it is for both of you

But you guys find a few... workarounds...

But oh man, the day that Dammon fixes Karlach's engine

No amount of pulling the blankets over their ears could help anyone keep the noise out

It isn't until day 3 that Shadowheart finally gets fed up and casts a silence spell over your tent

But Karlach can't help it, it's what an entire life of not even being near an omega does to her

At the end of your heats, when your brains are a little less foggy, she's back to giving you everything you could ever need

Water? Food? Maybe a small healing spell to helping your aching body? She is an aftercare goddess

That's all she cares about, anyway. In her mind, her pleasure is always second to yours

After the tough hand you've been dealt in life, her one goal is to make you feel special and taken care of

And, for someone as new to being in a relationship as Karlach is, she's doing a pretty damn good job at it

[ghostchems]

bad idea right? - raphael x f!tav (part three)

you set foot into raphael's kingdom without a chaperone to retrieve the hammer he's promised you.

author's note: read part one/two. sorry for taking so long with the next installment. 4.2k words! there's lots in here. haarlep makes an appearance (of course). cunnilingus, face sitting, blowjob, rough sex, overstimulation. ao3 link.

You only caught a glimpse of the House of Hope when Raphael whisked you away during your first meeting but now you’ve nearly been through it top bottom. Yes, he told you to come here and go straight to the boudoir to retrieve the Orphic Hammer but were you really going to give up the opportunity to go through all his stuff? Of course not.

His house floats in the desolate hellscape of Avernus, yet he has no allegiance to Zariel as far as you’re aware. It’s moody and dramatic, two key adjectives for Raphael himself. The archive is overflowing with infernal knowledge, bookshelves from floor to ceiling and his prized possessions on display as if it’s a museum. The dining room is just as grand as you remembered it but with a hint of unease due to the rotting food. He knew he was having company - shouldn’t he have at least cleaned up? You attention is pulled from statues of devils to portraits of himself to the grapes and wine and hookahs seemingly strategically left throughout the house. You fine yourself drawn to the many balconies that oversees the green souls keeping the house afloat. You wonder what would happen if you fell. Will your soul be dammed? Will your bones turn to ash? Will you shed your human body and be stripped down to the delicious soul you are?

You may have learned more about Raphael in the last half hour than all of your other meetings combined. Much to your companions ire, you’ve stopped to speak to every single debtor. They’re broken. Broken souls worn down to the very essence of their being, cursed to toil away in eternity in Raphael’s House of Hope. Something about it… tickles you. He’s been nothing more than “helpful” since you’ve met him, sure the threats have always been there, but seeing what he is actually capable of with your own two eyes makes you remember what he is. A devil. A cambion, specifically. He could turn you inside out with the snap of his finger. But he doesn’t. He’s touched you instead, slithered his way between your legs just as the tadpole has wormed into your brain. Does he see you as a formidable ally? Or another plaything to break down? You wonder if Raphael has already started on you — if this is apart of your deal, scribbled in infernal (a language you can’t read) on your contract.

The thought makes you shiver. It makes you want him all over again. Even if he hasn’t started trying to wear you down… you hope he’ll try.

Speaking of Hope. You didn’t know what to expect when he gave you the order to steer clear but it certainly wasn’t a dwarven cleric being held captive in his basement. She accosted you the moment you set foot into her home, begging you to help her. You smiled and told her you would, the hero that you are. It was a lie, of course. She is desperate and broken but she still clings to her namesake. You can understand why Raphael would keep her — she rebukes his every advance and won’t give up her optimism. She believes she can be saved, and maybe she’s right but your hands are tied. Still, the thought of him having her here to continue to torture when he could be focusing that energy on you. You decide to at least bring it up to him the next time you see him, which has yet to be “scheduled”. Part of you wants him to be waiting for you in the boudoir, hammer and a glass of wine in hand.

“For all the sense of dread and horror seeping through this place I really feel quite at home.” Astarion chirps, tearing you away from your thoughts in an effort to get you back to the task at hand. He’s far more understanding than the others and at this point you’re not sure what you would do without him. You offer him a small smile and start to lead your merry group of companions to the boudoir. A crowd, certainly. But this should be easy — pop in, take the hammer which is the salvation for all of Faerūn and then have a pint at Elfsong (and maybe a visit from a certain devil later that evening).

The boudoir is expansive and you can see why it is held in such high esteem by the debtors. There’s a large, steaming bath surrounded by more grapes and wine. You fight off the urge to dip a toe in. There are several desks with journals, quills, books all stacked on top and large canvas paintings of hellish scenes and dark portraits. If these walls could talk…

You see sparks out of the corner of your eye, your head twisting to see an empty space where you companions once stood behind you. A trap. This is a trap. Your chest tightens and you swear to yourself, you should have known something wasn’t right. Anger boils within you and a readiness rises to swing your blade at the next living, breathing thing that comes into your eye line. You keep your hand firm on the handle of your sword and move deeper into the spacious room. Are you a fool to have fallen for Raphael’s trickery? Or is he really that good? Even in the face of potential betrayal,

“Raphael?!” You are bewildered, mouth agape and eyebrows furrowed. The devil gives a delighted laugh as he slinks to his knees, his wings stretching out behind him. You blink a few times, overwhelmed just by the sight of him — displayed in all his glory in a leather harness, even though you are sure this is some sort of trick. The second he opened his mouth, you knew. You suck in a deep breath, steeling yourself to focus.

“No, no, love… has he not told you about me?” Haarlep bares his fangs in a sinister smile, creeping closer to you at the edge of the bed. His tail slithers back and forth behind him, dangerous yet playful. You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off — “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, mouse.” Warmth blossoms in your chest. He talks about you? Haarlep swings his legs over the edge of the bed and lifts himself to his feet, his body becoming the only thing you could possibly focus on. He lingers in front of you and eyes you as if you are a delicious meal, his tongue wetting his lips and a low hum rumbling from his chest. “A pretty little toy, aren’t you?”

“I… no, he hasn’t told me about you.” Confusion. Utter confusion. And, is it… is it hot in here? You’re sweating — you can feel it on your brow. “I’m here for the hammer.” Back to business. “We made a deal and he said it would be here.” Your voice strains, a mix of frustration and being so completely lost in the situation.

“A shame.” Haarlep purrs and leans in closer, leering over you with a sharp smile. “I am not too surprised though — how does one bring up having their own personal incubus who takes their form in casual conversation?” A claw runs along your jaw, the tip of his nail giving you goosebumps. From your adventure in Raphael’s house, it was easy to come to the conclusion that he has a plethora of kinks but this — this is something else. “You’re here for the hammer, that is correct, my dear, but you are also here to play.” His tail starts to slink up your leg and warmth starts to pool in your core.

“B-but Raphael —”

“You have his permission, mouse. And, fun fact about me using Raphael’s likeness — he’ll be able to feel everything we do. He’s expecting it, in fact, and I’m sure he’s looking forward to it.” Haarlep’s claw closes around your chin and forces you to gaze into his familiar burning eyes. Black holes. You feel their pull. “Perhaps he is conducting business right now — could you imagine? Him trying to make a deal while being able to taste you on his lips?” A jolt of arousal rushes through you, bringing a blush to your cheeks. Haarlep’s lips twitch into a devilish grin as you fall right into his grasp. The image he’s painted for you is beyond tempting; having Raphael be helpless to your touch while he’s off doing his devilish duties, desperate to conceal his erection. And, well, you have his permission, don’t you?

Haarlep lets go of your chin and swishes by you, his warm bicep brushing your shoulder and his tail flicking against your ankle. Your eyes trail after him, catching a glimpse of his toned back and his wing joints, veins bulging from the taut skin. You wonder if Raphael’s looks the same. It dawns on you that you haven’t seen much of his skin, in fact, you haven’t even seen his cock yet despite him spilling his seed inside you. You swallow thickly and take a step back, the backs of your knees hitting the foot of the bed.

“Cat got your tongue, mouse?” Haarlep moves in closer to you, the heat radiating off his body making your chest flush.

“No.” You answer sharply before slowly sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on your palms and spreading your legs wide. His eyes rake over your figure, tilting his head to get a better look at you. You say nothing but Haarlep understands and sinks to his knees in front of you with his head settling at eye level. A hand rests on his chest, coarse hairs underneath your fingertips as you start to wander lower. Haarlep’s arms curl around your back, the tip of his nose just about touching yours as his body makes your legs spread even more. The heat between you is palpable and only continues to grow while you start to stroke at the ridges along his hips. It’s unusual for Haarlep to get this sort of attention, from both guests of the House and Raphael himself.

“You do not deserve to call such a man ‘Master’.” He can’t help it, locking eyes with yours. His words sting but the feeling is quickly washed away by his tongue slipping into your mouth. The breath leaves your lungs, sinking into the hellfire that is Haarlep. Nothing matters but how he tastes you in a deep kiss, his claws pricking at delicate skin beneath your sleeves. You top is gone in a matter of seconds and whether your helped him take it off of you or it disappeared with magic is beyond your at this point. All you want to do is feel. He breaks the kiss and brushes his lips along your jaw, his teeth nipping right where it meets your earlobe. You pull him closer by his harness until he is flush against you. Haarlep trails kisses further down your neck and your collarbone, sucking and biting enough to draw gasps and hums from you. He gently guides you to lay down on your back, his entire body enveloping you until he starts to move his mouth lower and lower.

Each kiss is like an explosion of sensations along your skin, buzzing and burning yet feeling so deliciously blissed out. You’re melting into the mattress, melting into him, each touch of his taking more and more of you. He leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake, his mouth then closing around your nipple. His tongue flutters around your hardened peak, making you tip your head back as you give a breathy moan. His hands are somehow everywhere all at once; Fingers feather through his hair and then settle at the base of his horns while he continues his descent. You feel him mouth around your navel with light scrapes of his teeth, his hands slinking down to tug at your pants. He takes his time, pulling them down inch by inch, lavishing kisses across your hip bones. You wriggle out of your pants, growing impatient but not wanting to order him.

Haarlep tongue lazily traces your clit and a ragged gasp escapes your lips, a jolt of pleasure rocketing through you. He laps at your slick folds, groaning at the taste of you and presses his face into you, his nose settling just at your clit. Your grip on his hair tightens and you can’t stop yourself from giving it a sharp tug as you squirm and huff. His claws curl around your thighs, the tips of them digging into the tender flesh of your inner thighs. You’re seeing stars, his tongue pressing into you so deeply while he grunts and laps at your juices. Your back arches off the mattress, your mouth hanging open and spilling hoarse moans. It’s devastatingly sensuous, your temperature rising to a comfortable simmer as your mind starts to clear. This could be forever, couldn’t it? You could stay here with Haarlep’s head between your thighs, devouring you until nothing else matters.

Your hands close around two of his horns and your hips start to roll, tugging him with each of your fluid movements. He growls into your cunt, making your thigh and core muscles tense, a deep groan falling from your lips. You’re so far gone yet so close to the edge, his tongue laving at your core as his claws dig even dipper into your thighs. The fire in your abdomen is raging, overwhelming you almost to the point of no return with soft moans turning to deep whines. You hear a rumbling groan, one too deep to be Haarlep’s, just as your dam bursts. Your eyes flutter open and you see him — Raphael — in cambion form with his navy blue doublet and a smug expression on his face. A broken sob heaves from your chest, Haarlep savoring the taste of your cum.

“Enjoying the amenities, are we?” Oh, he sounds so pleased with himself. If you had any energy you would mouth off but all you’re able to muster is a dramatic eye roll. Raphael slinks out of view, the bed dipping behind your from his weight. He had planned for this, the bastard. Your mouth is still slack and your heart is still pounding, trying to come down from an impossible high when Haarlep grips you by the hips and flips you over, your chin nearly landing in Raphael’s lap. He grabs you, his claw nearly clasped around your entire head and lifts you so that you’re looking up at him, though he makes sure you’re able to get a nice view of how hard he is through his trousers. “You taste sweet, little mouse. It’s only fair that you taste me after how wound up you’ve got me. Allow me to assist in getting you started.” His voice is dangerously low, glee in his fiery eyes as he unlaces his trousers, freeing his leaking cock**.**

It renders you speechless, larger than any cock you’ve seen before and it’s ribbed, a pearl of pre-cum already collecting at the top. Your jaw drops and Raphael takes this as an opportunity, forcing your mouth around him and guides you down his length. You groan as soon as you taste him, his cock heavy on your tongue as you run it along the underside, feeling every bulging vein. He’s so large that you drool and gag once he hits the back of your throat, swallowing and trying to breath comfortably. Haarlep is lurking behind you but you’re too focused at the task at hand to notice — until it’s too late. He positions his head between your legs, this time underneath you, his horns flush with your stomach, hands digging into your ass as his tongue savors your folds.

A moan of surprise rumbles up your throat and your head wrenches backward. Raphael’s grip on your head tightens and forces you back down his length with a violent tug. You’re eyes are watering and you struggle to breathe with his pulsing cock shoved down your throat while Haarlep toys with your clit, pinching it between his fangs and flicking his pointed tongue. Raphael bucks his hips into your mouth, fucking your face as he growls with need. You whimper around him, your vision blurring further from the tears in your eyes and the building tension in your core. You feel helpless, used. It’s the first time with Raphael you’ve felt you didn’t have the upper hand, or at least a cool head. The devils have reduced you to a mewling mess, a toy for them to play with. You mindlessly grind you hips against Haarlep’s face and he groans into you, his nose pressing firmly into your clit. A choked sob falls from your lips, your fingers digging into the sheets and your skin buzzing.

“Your lips are so pretty around my cock, mouse.” Raphael croons and tilts your head up so he can see you. Your cheeks are flushed and streaked in tears, your lips swollen and eyes half-lidded. He would paint you if he wasn’t so preoccupied by that mouth of yours. Hmm, perhaps he could paint your face. His claws dig into the sides of your head as he pulls you off of his cock, his other hand giving himself a few strong pumps before spilling his seed on your face. You’re panting, gasping for air as you sink forward, your cheek landing on the soft sheets. Raphael lifts himself off the bed but you’re too tired to lift your head to watch him, instead focusing on steadying your breath.

“You’ve had your fill.” He sneers and pulls Haarlep out from underneath you who gives a frustrated snarl. There’s some bickering but you’re too overstimulated to listen. After a moment Raphael’s claws settle on your waist with a low hum. He says nothing as he drags his cock along your dripping folds and you give a sharp whine, scrambling to adjust yourself. Your hips press back into him, sinking himself deep inside you with a calculated thrust. Primal lust explodes and courses through your body as you give a broken sob, your legs trembling and your core tensing while you ease his size. One large claw rests on the side of your head, nearly covering your eyes with his long fingers, and he clamps down on you, your face smushed against the mattress. His hips buck wildly against your ass, his pace brutal and punishing but you are basking in it, pushing back into each of his thrusts.

You feel his devilish strength, each roll of his hips sending you forward, your face buried in the covers as you cry and whine in twisted pleasure. Raphael has you laid bare. You’re nothing but a hole to him right now, a means to get him off just as he uses Haarlep. But there’s something about it that sends shivers down your spine: the possessiveness of it all. His claw is splayed out over your head, his other one digging harshly into your hip, slicing your flesh and making you bleed. The only thing on his mind is having you, having you in his true form, exerting his strength over you until you’re a quivering mess. He wants to fill you. Raphael hikes your ass up even higher and fucks into you, the new angle making your toes curl. You moan his name and he gives a pleased purr, driving into you quicker and harder.

You body feels as though it splits apart, overcome with your white hot climax. He rest his entire body weight on you now, crushing you beneath him as he buries himself deep inside you, over and over. His hot breath fills your ear, sharp and strained. You’re shivering, tears staining the sheets. Raphael utters one last hiss, teeth grazing your ear as he spills himself inside you, his hips slowing with each pulse of his cock. He’s on top of you until he’s spent, his nose nuzzling into your hair.

You can’t feel your limbs. Your body is trembling, your voice hoarse in your throat as you manage a weak protest. Raphael has you on your back in the blink of an eye, his tail slithering up your hips while he slots himself between your legs, using his knees to spread them further. His board is hard against yours, his clothes having disappeared. Your breath catches in his throat at the pressure of the top of his hard cock against your entrance. Surely you couldn’t take any more of this? You feel like you are about to melt away physically and mentally, your body limp and your brain fogged from the intense overstimulation. Raphael’s massive claws close around both your wrists, pinning them to the bed as his forearms cage you beneath him. The edge in his fiery eyes has softened and his nose drifts along your cheek, taking a deep inhale of your scent.

“A delicate little thing, aren’t you, sweetling?” He growls into your ear, his mouth hot and his sharp teeth pricking your skin. You open your mouth to answer but Raphael shifts his hips forward, the head of his ridged cock easily slipping inside you, the words getting caught in your throat. He hums against your ear and then drags his sharp tongue down the side of your neck. Your eyes roll back, squeezing them shut as he gives a languid thrust and pushes in to the hilt, a loud gasp forcing its way up your throat. Arms slip around his broad shoulders, body arching into his and you feel yourself start to disappear. Raphael lifts his head and hovers his mouth above yours. A groan vibrates up his chest to his throat, his lips parted as he continues at a lazy pace. He can’t get enough of your reactions, your cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink, your lips swollen from how he fucked your face earlier and those sweet, breathless sounds that are spilling from them.

This is a stark contrast from how he had just taken you, his hips circling in slow, sensual movements that has your core twisting in arousal despite your exhaustion. His own deep moans send current after current through you, reigniting your passion and need for him. You bring your hips up to meet his with each thrust and he bares his teeth as your writhing grows more fluid. Raphael releases your wrists so that he can drag one of his sharp claws down your collarbone and along your side, leaving scratch marks. You move your hand to his hair and you realize this is the first time he’s been comfortably within grasp. Self control out the window, you touch his pointed and then bravely run your fingertips over his horns. Despite looking rugged and razor-sharp they’re smooth beneath your fingers. You wrap your hand around one of them and give it a gentle tug.

“Mouse.” The word is strained, sounding like a warning or potentially a challenge. You take the gamble and pull on his horn again. Raphael shudders, an uncontrolled moan spilling from his lips. His mouth drops open, lips curled into a blissful smile. You hum in response, feeling a deep flush in your chest from his reaction. His eyes sharpen as the feeling passes, slowing his thrusts and silence falling between you. Your breath catches in your throat, tension in your chest, your mind hurdling a million miles an hour suddenly because you feel like you’re in trouble. Raphael slowly moves his claw to curl underneath your chin, eyes locking with his. He groans, his entire body rumbling against you and leans in, capturing your lips. It’s shockingly gentle, passionate that only increases with his need to consume you. His hips jerk, tail wrapping tightly around your leg only to peel you further apart as he picks up his thrusts again. Your tongue runs along his sharp fangs and he purrs into your mouth, biting down on your tongue and lip playfully.

You’re all too aware of the way he throbs inside you, his ridges massaging your walls in a way that makes you see stars. Raphael’s growling grows deeper, vibrating through him as his pace starts to grow ragged, frantic and out of time. He gives a strangled hiss into your mouth, his body shuddering while he empties himself inside you. You’re already so full that it seeps down the insides of your thighs. Raphael breaks the kiss and presses his nose to your flushed cheek, catching his breath.

“I won’t stop. Not ever. Not until I own you completely.” A hot whisper of the clearest words he’s ever spoken to you. You sink further into the mattress, melting away as he rises over you, his red wings ruffling behind him. His obsession with you is written all over his face, his eyes taking in every part of your exhausted body, plotting more ways to keep you in his bed. He cracks his neck and his expression hardens in an effort to get back to the business at hand, though you feel one of his hands stroke at your arm.

“Rest now, mouse.”

Comfortable darkness envelopes you.

[monstersdownthepath]

A Collection of Fiendish Demigods

(pic source)

A Duke of Hell and two Daemon Harbingers for fun. As always, there's more lore than what I put in their little blurbs; the Duke of Hell especially is one I came up with years ago but never had the opportunity to put into any practice. I actually considered it for the position of Demon Lord for the longest time, but its focus on back-breaking labor and law--plus my dearth of Lawful Evil fiends in general--made me reconsider.

The Harbingers are also two niches I've noticed have yet to be filled. In a world full of unfair deaths, I can think of few miserable ends more unfair than death through allergies, an affliction which the people of Golarion understand but not have the means to treat. With it, I'm also introducing the concept of the Phylaxidaemons, plant-insect creatures who shed thick layers of choking pollen and whose poisonous touch causes horrific swelling in its victims which can lead to them choking to death as their throat closes up. The Phylaxidaemons themselves will be another post.

The second is a much more recent creation, representing death through medical malpractice and through trusting care providers who don't have your interests at heart. And with him, the introduction of the placebodaemon and iatrodaemon. CR 4 and 12, representing death by false cures and harmful "cures," respective.

Reminder that Infernal Dukes grant a spell-like of levels 3, 7, and 9 as Boons which are usable 1/day, and Daemon Harbingers grant spell-likes of levels 2, 4, and 6 usable 2/day.

Father Dermosi, Duke of the Endless Rows Lawful Evil Infernal Duke of Labor, Sacrifice, and Farming

One would not expect a devil to be a holy man, but in his life before his infernal transformation, the figure that would become Father Dermosi was a follower of Erastil. A passionate preacher, hard worker, skilled farmer, and firm believer in the cleansing power of difficult labor, Dermosi is a textbook showing of what too much fervor can do to one's mind, as he believed (and preached) a corrupt form of Old Deadeye's teachings in which backbreaking labor and sacrifice of one's own health for the good of the community were the only true sacrifices which Erastil would appreciate.

In his own words, he believed that a soul had to be "beaten into a shape that could fit through Heaven's gates," and the only way to achieve this 'shape' was to grind away at every edge and angle of one's personality until all that was left was a desire to work. Physical abuse to drive people further became more and more common, and when people began to die from him constantly pushing them to do more, many snapped to their senses and realized that he had strayed from Erastil's guidance, that this could not possibly be what the god wanted... but any who spoke up were harshly punished, exiled, or even executed by the rest of the flock, out of either fear or fervor. It was only when Erastil himself sent a few of his chosen to the town to try and fix what happening that many of Dermosi's naysayers found the bravery to stand up alongside one another, and the corrupt Father found himself facing execution or exile. He chose execution, believing he would be judged worthy of Heaven.

As one can likely tell, he didn't even see the gates before he was thrown into the fires of Hell.

Rather than turn inwards and reflect on his own wicked beliefs, Father Dermosi concluded that Heaven denying him was an error on their part, that Erastil had betrayed him rather than the other way around. As his soul became corrupted by hellfire, he concluded that Erastil's teachings were far too 'light-handed' and that Heaven didn't deserve someone with his strength of will and desire to improve himself and others, at which point he embraced his transformation into a devil and rose swiftly through Hell's hierarchy.

Father Dermosi now lays claim to the Sinner's Till, an area of Avernus where endless fields of strange and unearthly crops are nourished by and tended to by hapless petitioners and enslaved Outsiders, each one subject to the sermons and sadism of the Duke of the Endless Rows as they ceaselessly work until their souls begin to break down, allowing him to--literally and figuratively--beat them into entirely new shapes in service to the Archdevils.

Domains: Community, Evil, Law, Plant Subdomains: Devil, Sovereignty, Growth, Toil* Favored Weapon: Scythe Symbol: A bundle of corn wrapped in white or gold thread. Sacred Animals: Farm animals, particularly chickens Sacred Colors: Gold, green *Followers of Dermosi may alter any of his Domains with the Toil Subdomain, replacing the second power of each Domain and the spells granted at the appropriate levels. They may only alter one Domain in this way, and cannot alter a Domain that has already been altered by a Subdomain.

Obedience: Perform one hour of strenuous manual labor, or force another to do so with threats of pain if they do not comply. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus to saves against any effect which would fatigue or exhaust you.

Boon 1: Spike Growth Boon 2: Waves of Exhaustion Boon 3: Dominate Monster

-----

Tazhimea, the Baleful Bouquet Neutral Evil Daemon Harbinger of Allergens, Stinging Insects, and Weeds

Somewhere in the dismal plane of Abaddon, there is a land where a false sun shines over a gorgeous landscape filled with a veritable rainbow of strange plants bearing an equally alien yet delicious bounty. As one may expect, this is not a place of mercy or respite, as even a single breath of its sickly sweet air can spell a miserable, choking end for most mortals. Even other daemons tend to steer clear of this place lest they, too, fall victim to the machinations of the Phylaxidaemons and their beautiful progenitor, Tazhimea.

Tazhimea appears to be some anthropomorphic butterfly or moth woven of beautiful and otherworldly plants, their wings shimmering with a myriad of colors rarely seen in nature, but standing anywhere close enough to examine the details is almost certain death; the moment one is able to smell the daemon's powerfully cloying perfume is the moment one has breathed their last, their nose overrunning with thick mucus as their throat begins to close up, all to keep out the scent. Tazhimea is Harbinger of Allergens, and thus has a unique approach to the problem of how to bring death to the masses, namely by twisting the body's own immune response against itself with puffs of spores and pollen, powerful perfumes, or the stings and bites of insects that hide within the body of the Harbinger and of its servitors. The Harbinger's garden is their laboratory as they breed together flora and fauna from all over the Great Beyond to birth creations whose effluvium triggers violent reactions in any creature that inhales or touches them, with the fiend's ultimate goal to form an allergen that can affect even them, at which point they know their work has become perfect.

Because Tazhimea's creations turn the victims' own immune system against it, there is little one can do to protect themselves from it. Living creatures that are immune to disease or poison are ironically more vulnerable to the Harbinger's foul magic as their powerful immunity goes berserk in response to a sniff of a foul but ultimately harmless perfume or a painful and debilitating but nonfatal sting, turning an attack that could have been survived into a life-threatening affliction for which there is no cure. For all the terror they bring to the living, though, they have a distinct disadvantage when combating creatures such as Elementals, Constructs, and Undead, a disadvantage which prevents them from truly seeking the throne of the Horseman of Plague.

Domains: Animal, Evil, Death, Plant Subdomains: Insect, Daemon, Growth, Venom* Favored Weapon: Rapier Symbol: A beautiful flower with a bee sitting in the center Sacred Animals: Bees and ants Sacred Colors: Green and red *followers of Tazhimea may modify the Animal Domain with the Venom Subdomain.

Obedience: Sow the seeds of plants which provoke allergic reactions. If you cannot, invoke an allergic reaction in yourself, then suffer through it for at least 1 hour before attempting to cure or alleviate it. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus to saving throws against disease and poison effects.

Boon 1: Garden of Peril Boon 2: Cape of Wasps Boon 3: Greater Insect Spies

-----

Qaiqol, the Honest Doctor Neutral Evil Daemon Harbinger of Placebos, False Cures, and Malpractice

A foul and recent fiend, Qaiqol was once a snake-oil salesman whose silver tongue and seemingly miraculous mixtures ended numerous lives. Whether it was a balm that soothed pain but prompted hemorrhagic bleeding or some 'incredible' surgery to replace a failing organ which went tragically awry, Qaiqol was at the forefront of inventing countless ways to harm others with fabricated cures and poisonous medicines, and was always a change of name and facial hair away from doing it again in the next settlement he preyed upon.

Far beyond any rational or explainable motive, Qaiqol would dissect or even vivisect others to better understand the border between panacea and poison upon the body's various systems, and how the two could be blended together to provoke the most destructive reactions. Were he benevolent he could have been an incredible doctor, but as it was, he was a serial killer with a particularly sadistic modus operandi, one that involved giving another hope for a cure only to have their symptoms become worse, then terminal. His actions were not even for the purpose of becoming rich--though he did make a tidy profit off stealing and selling the belongings and even the bodies of the deceased--but from outright sadism and a wicked desire to sow public distrust towards actual, well-meaning practitioners.

Such a foul soul could only ever be condemned to Abaddon, but Qaiqol's vicious drive persisted even after death. For all his power in life, though, he spent many years as a plaything in the courts of Apollyon before finally gaining the strength needed to betray and slay a pair of Harbingers--one which held dominion over surgeries, and one which delighted in spreading sickness in places of healing--and take their power for himself. He now commands squadrons of Placebodaemons and Iatrodaemons (representing, respectively, those who die from false cures and those who die from medical complications) as the greatest of their numbers, and works to hock his poisonous snake oil to every corner of the Great Beyond and erode the bonds between communities and the apothecaries and doctors striving to help them.

Domains: Artifice, Evil, Healing, Trickery Subdomains: Alchemy, Daemon, Medicine, Espionage Favored Weapon: Estoc Symbol: A medicine bottle of unknown liquid with a fanciful label Sacred Animals: Snake Sacred Colors: Blue, brown

Obedience: Work to cure injuries and ailments in other creatures for one hour in whatever fashion you can. Alternately, create and/or sell false medicines. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus to Bluff and Heal checks.

Boon 1: Fester Boon 2: Poisonous Balm Boon 3: Phantasmal Putrefaction

[scuttlingcrab]

The Devil's Archive

Behold! All the Raphael (and now Minthara) fiction I've written so far. You can find me on AO3 too!

I think of each story as a writing exercise and opportunity to grow, so I feel (and hope!) my pieces have gotten better since the initial fic.

I am always open to receiving Raphael & Minthara prompts. The day I stop writing about them both will be a sad day indeed, and I don't intend on that happening any time soon.

In regards to the types of prompts:

I'll take anything focused on Raphael & Minthara. I haven't done any NSFW or Haarlep prompts yet, BUT I am always open to receiving them! It might take a while to churn those out, but I love devouring them and will try my best.

Miscellaneous

The Stranger

Bored at a party, Raphael seeks a delicious new soul.

A Night at the Symphony

Raphael goes to the symphony to check in on a client.  

Too Close for Comfort

What happens when Tav gets a little too close to the devil?

No Time for Love

Don't wish Raphael a Happy Valentine's Day...

Late Night Intruders

Tav thwarts an assassination attempt against Raphael during the wee hours of the morning. And from Raphael's perspective, everything is going according to plan.

A Perfect Fit

Raphael receives an unexpected gift from Tav.

Dressed to Kill

Raphael is caught off guard by his recent gift from Tav, so he decides to pay his little mouse a visit.

Hangover from Hell

Raphael wakes up with a hangover, only to find Tav sleeping on his chest. He desperately tries to make sense of the entire situation.

Dance with the Devil

Raphael attends the annual Baldur's Gate Masquerade Ball and accidentally runs into his little mouse.

Shadowy Deals

Raphael shares a drink with Tav at the Last Light Inn, hoping to entice her with a new proposition.

The Devil's Muse

Raphael gives Tav, his very favourite client, a generous gift after she signs his contract.

Fiendish Rewards

Raphael appears at Withers' party, hoping to finally collect the Crown of Karsus from Tav. However, an unexpected turn of events causes Raphael to re-think his plans.

A Devil's Lament

Raphael brings Tav to an abandoned chapel, hoping to complete one final task before he begins his conquests of the Hells.

Inferna Victoria

With the help of Tav, Raphael fights against Zariel for his seat in Avernus. Much to Raphael's dismay, the fight ends up being more difficult than he anticipated.

Trial by Fire

Tav makes a proposition for Raphael, offering to teach the Devil her craft of sewing in exchange for him relinquishing her creative ban. Raphael finds stitching a wee bit harder than he initially expected.

Only a Kiss

Raphael is fuming after Tav shows absolutely zero decorum, kissing him in the middle of an important meeting between prospective clients. How will the Devil manage? 

Practice Makes Perfect

Raphael takes matters into his own hands when Tav proves to be a less than cooperative model for his latest painting. He will do anything to create a masterpiece, even if that means teasing his little mouse into submission.

Toss A Coin To Your Devil

Tav is on the brink of death after foolishly deciding to fight Auntie Ethel without much preparation. She summons Raphael as a last resort to help her finish the fight.

An Icy Reunion

After fighting Mephistopheles, Raphael finds himself trapped at the bottom of a crevasse, wounded and waiting for the end. Tav shows up unexpededly and Raphael is left wondering if his little mouse will play the role of saviour or executioner.

In the Dark of the Night

After Raphael witnesses Tav committing a gruesome murder, he begins plotting how he could use their vulnerability, and lack of memory, to his full advantage in his grander ambitions.

A Hellish Dealer

Raphael isn't only a saviour, but a proficient salesman. After coming to Tav’s rescue, again, he offers the little mouse an item, straight from his Devilish line of goods, that he hopes will aid her in the fights ahead.

A Devilish Mentor

Have you ever pondered what happened to Mol after she was abducted from the Last Light Inn? In this one-shot, the Devil we know swallows his pride as he ventures deep into the Mind Flayer Colony to rescue Mol, and not because he has a soft heart... he's just looking out for his future assets.

Mortals

Mortals is a collection of short stories about Raphael, where he meets various mortals who have impacted him someway or another throughout his existence, loosely tying into the main plot of Baldur's Gate 3. Each story is stand-alone.

The Curse of Lady Luck

Raphael calls upon his old friend, a priest, who he reluctantly made a deal with many years ago.

A Warlock is Born

Korrilla summons Raphael to aid her in a fight at the Devil’s Fee. Raphael recruits a new warlock to his cause.

A Warlock's Sacrifice

Raphael seeks the aid of his prized warlock after he finds an intruder has broken into his House of Hope. Raphael confronts Tav in the aftermath of combat.

Flowers for a Devil

Raphael meets a blind flower girl named Vera, convinced claiming her soul will be an easy win. However, the Devil soon finds out this mortal in particular does not fall so easily for his lavish deals.

The Great Hunt

In Search of a Hammer

Raphael learns from Korrilla that Tav foolishly sold the Orphic Hammer in an attempt to earn some last minute gold. Raphael hunts down the Hammer before his dreams are destroyed forever.

An Absolute Waste of Time

Raphael is so full of rage and malice he is about to burn down the entire Sword Coast before the Mind Flayers even arrive. In this second instalment, Raphael tears through Baldur's Gate, from the Circus of the Last days to the Blushing Mermaid, trying to locate the Orphic Hammer.

Nightwarden Minthara

A collection of fics about my favourite companion.

Badges of Honour

After another successful fight against the Absolute, Minthara and Jaheira cosy up by the campfire, exchanging stories about their various scars.

Lessons from the Nightwarden

Tensions quickly rise when Minthara is forced to teach a group of aspiring Paladins a harsh lesson.

To the Hells and Back

Night Terrors

Defeating the Elder Brain was supposed to be triumphant, but it was the day Minthara’s world spun out of control. After watching Karlach burn before her eyes, Minthara swore an oath of vengeance against the Archdevil Zariel. She would not rest until she personally smited that vile infernal creature into oblivion. However, navigating the Hells is by no means an easy task, and Minthara is soon forced to make an unexpected alliance if she is to get there in one piece.

The Devil's Den

Minthara makes a proposition to Raphael, very much against her will, for an alliance. It's the perfect plan: Raphael gets Avernus and she will get her vengeance against Zariel for Karlach's death. However, Raphael is not a fan of anything that takes the spotlight away from him. No matter what, Minthara will get what she wants... whether the Devil likes it or not.

[anderstrevelyan]

I’m interested in your theory of what Gortash was a counsellor of? Or what department of high ranking official of the city he was working for?

Oooh thank you for the opportunity to talk about Baldurian politics 🙏 (somehow this developed footnotes) (and got really long, whoops)

I don't think I'm settled on who initially hired him—it could be one of the five officers of the city* who typically hire bureaucrats, or a duke (since it seems Florrick works primarily with Ravengard and the Fist).

I think most likely would be Earl Namorran (the Harbormaster circa 1482) or Thalamra Vanthampur** (either while she was Master of Drains and Underways or after becoming a duke), though I do picture some leeway in who the counsellors advise once they're in place, more about where their advice is needed than necessarily being tied to a particular area.

(I was trying to source back where I got that impression, and I think it's Wyll describing Gortash as trying to be an advisor to "the peers" in general:)

(He's thinking back to 1485 and before, when he still lived in the Gate—the "bit player" part became less true the closer you get to 1492, I imagine, especially with the narrator line that attributes the title counsellor to Gortash describing him as having considerable influence on industry and politics)

Some areas I could see Gortash being a fit to advise on would be a) weaponry (but we know the Watch marshal is skeptical of his ideas in 1492, and Ulder Ravengard certainly doesn't like his advice, so I can't picture him spending much time advising the Watch or the Fist despite any overtures), b) the flow of goods in and out of the city, and c) technology.

(Technology is why I'm imagining Vanthampur as a possible entrypoint: the drains and underways porfolio is prestigious because it's so technically demanding in a way that's beyond most patriars.)

And speaking of technology, personally I see him working a lot with the Gondians and the ways they interface with the city!

After Duke Torlin Silvershield's death, the high artificer of Gond becomes Andar Beech, who oversaw the temple's day-to-day under Silvershield and was critical of his involvement in politics—so I think that leaves an opening for someone outside of Gond's church to step in and do some of that liaising. Because the city really, really cares about the Gondians—they maintain those giant cranes that move all the goods at the docks and keep trade flowing, relevant to Namorran's work, and they repair plumbing in patriars' homes, relevant to Vanthampur's—and I could see him advising parliament and the dukes on how they might best get more use out of the Gondians and their inventions. (While at the same time using them as jumping-off points for his own.)

We know the Gondians likely had a lot of secret projects going on (I don't have a link, but the rumour's from Descent into Avernus!), and Gortash eventually takes their Foundry through fraud and blackmail, so I can picture him using his role as counsellor to twist his way in to learn more for leverage and to start to legitimize a partnership between him and the Gondians in the public's eye: setting himself up to take direct, forceful control like we see him having in 1492.

-----

*those five officer positions being: Harbormaster, High Constable and Master of Walls, Master of Drains and Underways, Master of Cobbles, and the Purse Master, per Murder in Baldur's Gate

**Follower-of-Zariel and owner-of-a-bathhouse-that-by-1492-has-a-bane-bhaal-and-mrykul-temple-under-it Thalamra Vanthampur!

[featherwurm]

At some point between Moonrise and Baulder's Gate - the crew stops to clean up a bit, and I have an excessive amount of thoughts about social bathing as it applies to the tadfools:

Baulder’s Gate features several bathhouses (including the landmark location Hissing Stones) and they seem geared to a wide variety of clientele; pragmatic (bathing), personal (social and solicitous), and political (a place of meeting) – it can be assumed that group bathing is a norm in the city at all social strata, although wealthier private residences also undoubtedly feature private bathing arrangements. Gender divides do not seem common in Baulder’s Gate on a whole*, and co-ed bathing could likely be a norm as well.

Individual headcanons below the cut - your mileage may vary, this is pulled roughly out of D&D lore, a few character interactions, thoughts about Roman baths, and my ass;

Tav – From the lower middle class of Baulder’s Gate, she grew up with normal family outings to the bathhouse to clean and socialize. In the monastery, cohabiting with a variety of people, group bathing was also a norm (also just… hanging out on a hot day with your buddies or whatever.) Her order views the body kindly, though not worshipfully, and does not view it as a vehicle of shame. It should be cared for with attention and thought to best use it, and while pleasure is inherent (and unshameful) to human nature it is not fundamentally a part of just being naked. She finds nothing out of the ordinary to toss off your clothes and jump in the river with your buddies.

Karlach – Also from Baulder’s Gate’s lower social strata, she too grew up using bathhouses as a place to get clean, have some fun, and be extremely bored while your parents caught up on the gossip. Similarly, working for Gortash meant the occasional political meeting at the Hissing Stones or other locations (a place you CERTAINLY want to take your bodyguard – although she wouldn’t get to enjoy the bathhouse while working). Living in Avernus for a decade in a militaristic setting has also thrown off her sense of normalcy – if you ever get a chance to clean up there (extremely rarely) you take it whatever the circumstance may be. She’s happy to get naked, get in the water, and get clean whoever the company is. (As little children, both Tav and Karlach had to be actively removed from fountains, the river, and suitably large puddles when they presented the opportunity to be in the water – which both of them love.)

Shadowheart – Sharans and the enclave she is from seem to have some issues with pleasures of the flesh and see them as negative and to be shunned. Life is misery and pain and you better get used to it through daily practice. Given her lack of memory of any childhood normalcy, any time spent around other people in a casual way is long gone. She does not seem to have come out of it with bodily shame herself, but undoubtedly finds the idea of just being comfortable with nudity in a platonic way to be alien. Given that she can’t swim, it adds another layer of discomfort being in the water. It takes her some time to warm up to jumping in the river with the others, but she does come round, although she sticks to the shallows until she learns to swim.

Lae’zel – Githyanki don’t seem to have any shame about bodies, at least given their various styling of armor and clothing. Given their almost eusocial social structure and militaristic culture, it’s unlikely there’s much stigma over the body or that of others. She’s certainly with a peculiar group here, but whatever, you need to get the blood out of your hair eventually – the others are sort of strange-looking to her eye for a while though (Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion seeming like the frail offspring of some small animal with their soft pinkness, Karlach, Tav, and Wyll resembling more of carapaced insects with their ridges and horns.)

Gale – While Waterdeep has it’s spas, these seem more places of relaxation and retreat rather than practical bathing establishments (he does like a nice relaxing treatment – in a robe of course.) Gale has spent so long cooped up in his tower having a weird relationship with the goddess of magic that the idea of just… casually being naked with other mortal people is probably completely off his radar. It is not culturally or personally familiar to him, and feels a little uncouth. He’s going to find a reason to go cook and then clean up by himself later.

Astarion – Speaking of any sense of normalcy having been long gone, his only real use of Baulder’s Gate’s bathhouses has been picking up victims for the last couple centuries (almost always in a sexual context.) Approaching casual bathing with others as any kind of normal is something that will take a reserved approach and a lot of patience as with most things with him. He’s snarky and weird about the whole thing, but it’s to be expected. He later more politely refuses as he works on boundaries and sorts himself out – there’s not enough time in game to sort this shit out. Plus he smells a bit of death no matter what he does – apart from physically getting stuff off his body he’s more reliant on perfume than bathing to feel clean.

Wyll – From Baulder’s Gate and used to playing around wherever he feels like it, it’s not foreign to him to enjoy a bathhouse or river romp (especially in light of various political bargaining happening in the baths) but being from the upper class of Baulder’s Gate he’s not the most casual about it. In his time away from Baulder’s Gate, and being as young as he was, he’s become a little sensitive about it, given his gentlemanly approach developed through his time in the wilds. Still though, it wouldn’t put him off, prior to Mizora’s transformation of him, at which point he’s got body image issues to work through before he’s comfortable again. The tieflings (Karlach and Tav) try to be re-assuring but they come on a little strong about it (hard not to – what he’s viewing as demonic punishment they view as normal for their own bodies – horns and ridges and all.)

Halsin – Look we all know the man likes to be naked and “one with nature”. Bodies are normal and being naked is natural. He’s not caught up on anything, although he might be literally a bear about it if he’s comfortable.

Jahira – Another Baulder’s Gate native who’s used to the city’s amenities. She is much too old and much too traveled to be fussed about who’s around at the evening wash up. She might pretend to be offended or ruffled (or too casual) if she thinks it’s funny – otherwise she’s too busy soaking her joints to care.

Minsc – Minsc is just happy to be here. Are we bonding by bathing together? Ok! But be careful of Boo – he is a delicate creature and gets very angry if he gets soap in his eyes.

Minthara… wasn’t in my playthough, sorry. But I’m certain she’d have the opinion that it’s normal for the ladies to socialize and such while washing but involving the men is bizarre and tasteless.

*Given the normalcy of non-binary, trans, and intersex bodies and identities in BG3, which I personally love.

[dark-and-kawaii]

I'm for disturbing you but I desperately need raphael who is so soft to the tav but tries to keep his act together in front of others which leaves tav chuckling which makes him blush aaaaaaaa

༺ 𝒜 𝒲𝒾𝒸𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝐹𝒶𝒸𝒶𝒹𝑒 ༻

Raphael

Notes: Firstly, you aren’t disturbing me!!! Secondly, thank you so much for this request!!! I really loved writing this, and I hope you enjoy it!!! I love soft Raphael especially when he’s still in character!!!

Pairings: Raphael x Tav/Reader

Soft Raphael - Love - He Love His Little Mouse

In the midst of Avernus, a grand gathering was taking place. It was teeming with all kinds of devils, infernal beings, and wicked creatures, each indulging in their debauchery. At the center stood Raphael, his existence echoed with undeniable authority. By his side stood you, the object of his uncharacteristically soft affection.

Raphael, relishing in the attention, was entertaining a mesmerized group of devils with a tale of his prowess.

"I'll strike down Zarielle and all who defy me.” He declared, a devilish grin adorning his face. "Her imps torn asunder, their cries heard through Avernus in the wake of my wrath!" Yet, amidst his terrifying proclamation, a familiar chuckle reached his ears, it was coming from beside him. Turning sharply, Raphael sees you trying to suppress your laughter, your eyes shining with amusement. Without uttering a word, you walked away, disappearing into the sea of devils, leaving him with a tint of pink on his cheeks, his brows furrowing in irritation.

The other devils, ever so vigilant and quick to seize upon any sign of weakness, noticed Raphael's flushed cheeks. They took pleasure in mocking him, relishing the opportunity to undermine his reputation. "You sure you're going to strike Zarielle down when a simple mortal’s giggle nearly puts you on your ass?" jeered one, his voice dripping with malicious delight.

Raphael's pride was stuck, and he warned the imp's taunting words. "If you don't mind your tongue," he retorted through gritted teeth, "I'd happily demonstrate what it is I'd do to Zarielle."

Raphael, being easily irritated by anything that challenged his superiority, sought you out with a grimace. He navigated through the crowd, eventually locating you chatting with a group of lesser fiends. He seized your arm, his grip on you harsh and forceful as he dragged you away from the crowd. Spiteful and filled with frustration, Raphael grasped your chin forcefully, his presence emanating a wicked energy.

"Perhaps I've spoiled you too much, little mouse," he stated with a voice laced in spite. "What was the meaning of that little outburst of yours?"

You looked up at him meeting his piercing gaze, his beautiful brown eyes is like immersing oneself in warm melted chocolate, rich and enticing. The depth and intensity of his stare captivates, drawing you further into him… Standing on your tiptoes, you gently press your lips against his in a tender kiss. Raphael’s hands instinctively find their place on your hips with a gentle yet firm grip. His fingertips tracing the contours of your hip, grazing the fabric of your clothing.

As your lips part, you whisper in a hushed voice, "It's amusing to me how all the others are blinded by your wicked facade. They would never guess that the great Raphael, son of Mephistopheles, harbors such tenderness within." Your fingers trace a light path through his hair, "A fox's soft side, a treasure I alone possess,"

Your fingertips caressing his dark tresses, “You're not all sharp claws and fangs, but a creature who cradles his prey tenderly in the night." You smiled warmly as his face began to scrunch, his grip tightening ever so slightly but Raphael remained silent, "Protecting her instead of devouring her whole.” You noticed his reddening face and continued, "The mouse, enamored by the fox's gentle touch, yearns for its claws tracing down her back in every night's embrace when their souls entwine."

Raphael's cheeks flushed with a small blush. His defenses threatened to crumble, replaced momentarily with vulnerability. Yet, as he regained his composure, a sly smirk formed on his lips. "Oh little mouse," he retorted with an edge in his voice, attempting to regain his devilish demeanor, "naivety clouds your eyes, for wickedness resides where tenderness lies.” A dark chuckle emanated from Raphael, "Beware, dear mouse, of the sly fox’s cunning grace, as he may cast aside what’s left of his prey with no remorse to trace.” He looks off into his crowded house, his eyes finding Haarlep as his hand rests on his chin, “I’m sure Haarlep would surely make good use of what's left of you."

You, however, knew Raphael better than anyone else. You understood the possessiveness that fueled his words, the depth of his affection for you, "The fox is far too possessive to let such a fate befall his treasured mouse. Your threats only reveal how deeply you care."

[y-rhywbeth2]

Karlach and Durge's relationship has fun elements that I, for some reason, started thinking on this morning.

Aside from some similarities (the offspring/descendent of powerful beings of the lower planes, whose kind are brought into existence as pawns/displays of power; were given basically no choice about serving their evil relative; who are/were made into living weapons; and the homicidal rages they need to keep under control (and as Zariel is known for her seething homicidal rage, Karlach could actually have inherited it the way Durge gets it from Bhaal))

There's that delightful 'I can fix them' mentality Karlach is bringing to the relationship. Always a good sign. We learned nothing from the Gortash shenanigans.

She talks about getting Durge psychiatric help when they get the city and, while that's a nice sentiment (and I assume she's actually talking about clerical healing at a fully staffed temple or something), I do remember what Faerûn's 'asylums' ('howling keeps') are like, and being locked up in a cell forever (at best) does not strike me as a good time. I just picture Durge hearing that, thinking of how people handle the dangerously 'crazed-witted' and getting ready to bolt. No nope nope no.

Speaking of Gortash: assuming Durge's handwriting hasn't been fundamentally altered by the TBI, they're going to recognise themselves praising the evil genius that is the guy who sold their new friend/lover to slavery in Hell and then have to look Karlach in the eye.

Then there's issue that is Gortash and Durge vs Durge and Karlach vs Gortash and Karlach's relationships. Even though Gortash is projecting and doesn't think there is an issue. 'That was literally a month-to-a-decade ago, why are you mad?' And I'm pasting that conversation, because I like looking at it.

Karlach: 'I don't give a shit about your agreement.' Lord Enver Gortash: 'Then why in the Nine Hells have you come back here, Karlach? What could you possibly want?!' Karlach: 'How about an apology for sending me to the Hells?' Lord Enver Gortash: 'Sorry?! You want me to be sorry for helping you gain more power than you've ever known? That thing in your chest is a blessing I helped you receive. One you're too much of a fool to see. I gave you a clean slate. A chance to rejoin me for our mutual benefit - again.'

(What a guy. God, I want to cut his skull open with a spoon and stare at the contents.)

Durge, of course can start swooning over how brilliant the durgetash alliance is, or, not unreasonably, assume - having only Karlach's accounts of Gortash's betrayal, and the knowledge that they were brutally tortured for a month in the building where the guy works - that he might've fucked them over too.

'I seem to have trusted you once, and it ruined me. I'm not about to repeat that mistake.'

Are we stewing in mutual resentment of an old partner, or are we going to hit a massive problem if Durge wants something of their old life back? There is so much unexplored drama in this part of Act 3 and their mutual arc, it pains me.

Plus Karlach should probably be wondering if Durge had anything to do with her enslavement. They almost certainly didn't timeline wise, because if Karlach was shipped off to Avernus 10 years ago then she was gone the year Bhaal came back and gained the ability to pick Chosen, so the window of opportunity for Durge and Gortash to meet (if it exists) is insanely narrow. But the doubt should be there.

And of course the fact that if you romance her and she undergoes ceremorphosis you can tell her how hot it is when she eats people's brains and she goes 'thanks love.'

[merilaurecus]

Companions reactions to Modern!Tav from Earth coming back to Faerûn to visit

Gale (Blackstaff Academy Professor ending)

He was the one to help you get back (with a bit of help from Elminster I suppose)

More than happy to see you (and that his magic worked!)

Will do his best to stay quiet about your little comeback (Tara will do her best to keep him quiet too)

Will offer magic lessons since you're back in the world where The Weave™️ exists (this dude loves magic, won't let an opportunity like that slip, especially when he becomes ✨Professor Dekarios✨)

Will tell you everything that happened in your absence, much like the others

Genuinely happy to have you back, even if it's for a moment

Will cook something, you can prepare an extra pack for faerûnian food from him

Tara demands pets. Just not on the belly.

You're free to spend a while in the Academy, even join some lesson as a guest or a guest teacher

Astarion (vampire spawn in Baldur's Gate ending)

He finds you in the dead of the night, thinking you're one of the bad guys

When he pins you to the ground with a dagger it just feels like the old days

Immediately loosens his grip when he recognizes you

"What in the hells? What are you doi- How did you even do it?!"

Happy to see you as well and does not even need to hide it as he'd usually do

Together you hunt someone that night, for the sake of the old times

You both recall what you've been up to

If you let him drink your blood again he'll be elated

But careful as a babe. This time he'll be good to his words

Surely has some news from the spawn family (if he didn't join them in the Underdark). Reads you some letters from Gur and other spawn. Takes breaks while reading the one from Sebastian. You hug him understandingly

You end up watching the sunrise before the sun is too high and you leave to seek other companions

Wyll & Karlach (yeet into the Avernus ending)

You kind of didn't expect to see them

They went to Avernus after all

They're the ones to spot you

"SOLDIER?! IS THAT YOU?!" are the only words you hear before you're pulled into Mama K's tight hug, unable to let go

Anyway you're not willing to let go. I mean who would want to?

Wyll's surprised too, they're both excited and curious how did you do it.

They were just about to meet his father (obviously), last thing they expected was to see their friend from another world.

You just jump in and go with them, asking how things are going with Karlach's engine, both excited and worried

Finally hearing good news (about the forge) makes you talk about heart surgery again ( @tavshortfortavern thanks for the idea!; also special thanks for inspiring me to write my own headcanons, love Yours!)

You spend the rest of the day meeting with Ulder, training, talking and having a drink in the Blushing Mermaid in the evening with Astarion who 'accidentally' found you

You all almost get too drunk but you don't care, because it's a memorable night

You toast for Gale who pulled it off and thought about it in the first place

Lae'zel (Freeing Githyanki edition)

Also kinda unexpected and brief meeting

You can see she's pleased with meeting you again (even if she's reluctant to show it)

She tries to keep her cool, she's leading a rebellion and most likely has an important meeting here

'Never thought I'd see you. Did you get lost in the realms again?'

After finding out how did you do it she nods in acknowledgement. Probably doesn't want to compliment the wizard

You quickly recall your current state of life and say goodbye, but for longer than usual (a little bit of slavic way of saying goodbye for an hour)

You're sure you spied a smile on her face, but she'd rather die than admit it (if she's with her fellow githyanki warriors)

Shadowheart (both good endings)

Parents freed & alive

She visited Gate for some groceries and maybe running into friends

And exactly both thing happens

She's not sure if she saw who she saw, has to blink and make sure

'You... you're back? How'd you do that?'

'Then it's a fine wine bottle for Gale then. What you've been up to? I was sure I'll never see you again!'

Also turns into a hug mode, girl does not take prisoners

After hearing from you she tells you about her cozy life with her parents

It's pretty much calm, nothing changed much (which is good considering her mother's state)

Can't stop looking at you like you're something magical or just a dream

You grab the groceries and head back to her house where you surprise her parents too

Her mom does not recognise you, but you understand. Her father still shoots out best jokes in this part of galaxy

Coziest evening in a while

Parents freed & gone

Pretty much all of the above but she might have someone on her tail and gets scared you may get hurt (just like in Waterdeep, when you romance Gale she tells you she's been there with someone on her tail exactly)

Gets you under her protection and if you run into any of your companions you're under their protection as well

If not, you'll just happily walk around the city and have some dinner and recall your life after you left Faerûn

But you could easily tell she still misses her parents, which makes you turn into a hug mode too

You may even spend an evening drinking somewhere secluded (beach maybe?)

Jaheira, Minsc & Boo

'The cub has found its way back. Though 'how?' still remains a question'

You explain and she admires how far the wizard has come to get you back for a visit

Minsc does not understand it, but is glad to have otherwordly friend back

Same with Boo, he's vicious but not towards Tav who occasionally fed him with extra snacks

Yes, hugs are mandatory even if none of them will show it (little hug for Boo as well!)

Jaheira is still busy with Harpers network rebuilding, might have to order few of them around as you speak

Takes you to her home where the kids also get a fucking aneurysm because they were sure you coming back was not possible

When you tell her your last life events she looks proud

But, like, tough auntie proud

'Seems like that world of yours is in the good hands'

You try your best not to go with explaining how it isn't so easy back there

Generally a day with the Busy Mom™️, the Madman and his Rodent

Halsin

After you made your little tour at the Gate & Waterdeep it was time for the *trip*

You did your best not to show on the road, just for the sake of surprise

Though you were nervous about the animals you've met

Not because they could eat you, but you remember the wildshape

No bears though, you feel safe

When you reach Moonrise you use every little stealth skill Astarion has taught you

Though your knees protest against that

You spot him somewhere near The Waning Moon, fixing something

Your sneak behind him would make Astarion proud as fuck

Daddy Bear doesn't notice a thing (or so you hope)

With only few seconds to act you just tap his shoulder

He turns back expecting a kid perhaps, but instead his eyes widen upon seeing his old (young?) friend

The one he was sadly sure never to see again

He's not quite sure what to say for a few seconds so you just pull him into a hug

He hugs back with his and probably Silvanus' might

He's just so excited, but fortunately doesn't wildshape (iykyk)

He's also impressed in Gale's skill (even if it involves Elminster)

Eager to show you around, proud of his work, but don't you dare bring it up yourself! (unless you want him to turn into a mouse or just threaten you to do so, even as a joke)

You almost don't recognise the place without the curse

Thaniel & Oliver take you by surprise in turn, but it's also a lovely reunion. Without the curse they're flourishing and thriving, just like the nature around

Whole. Fucking. Ton. Of. Kids.

And stray people willing to start a new life here

But they're all happy and taken care of. It's loud, it's messy, it's chaotic, but it's lovely.

You can easily see Halsin put his heart into that and truly found his place in the world

'My friend. Would you like to stay?' his voice radiates with hope, and if you say yes, he's even more happy. If you can not, he understands

He's surprised you remember about the old druid. You ensure him you never forgot

You help around with the kids & the place, maybe even tell them a story or two to let Halsin rest (even if he's sleeping behind you in his bear form)

You may also get back with druidic magic here, even if you won't use it in your world, Halsin would gladly spend time teaching you and recalling your latest life events

You also visit Art's Grave if he passed away (which could occur)

NPCs REACTIONS WILL JOIN SOON

[hootshooch]

Hey, I loved your post on Ulder Ravenguard as he's depicted in Murder in Baldur's Gate. I've been wanting to play MiBG for the lore but haven't had the opportunity yet. Can I bug you for some lore? Apologies in advance for my weird hyperfixation atm.

I'm basically trying to picture the implications of Bhaal's return on the city's government, and how that ties into where we are in BG3.

I don't know if you have any information on Torlin Silvershield, but he was at one point the Grand Duke according to his wiki page, and one of the characters who could become Bhaal's chosen. The problem is, Abdel Adrian and Ulder Ravenguard are also listed as Grand Duke on their wiki pages, and I have no clue how that timeline worked (or if the wiki canon follows an internal consistency vs applying that title to all potential grand dukes).

I'm guessing Torlin replaced Gorion's Ward after Returning Day, leaving Ulder Ravenguard to replace him after he was abducted in 'Dead in Thay'? Or does BG3 erase Silvershield entirely?

Yeah of course!! You're not bugging me at all, I LOVE talking about this stuff :-)

The campaign begins with Grand Duke Abdel Adrian (Gorion's Ward) being attacked publicly in The Wide by Viekang (the only other living "first gen" Bhaalspawn). One of them dies in the duel, causing the other to turn into The Slayer before being killed by the player character(s) (or poison, if you somehow manage to save Abdel). Whoever dies FIRST is wholly dependant on what the DM rolls during their fight and whether or not the player(s) intervene. But no matter what happens, Gorion's Ward and Viekang both WILL die.

This ushers in the resurrection of Bhaal. Throughout the rest of the campaign, Bhaal (now able to influence the material plane) steadily compels the three main antagonists (Ulder Ravenguard, Duke Torlin Silvershield, and Rilsa Rael) into doing increasingly corrupt and violent things until one of them his declared his Chosen during the Feast of the Moon at the end of the campaign. These things range from petty theft, blackmail, stealing hands off of statues, deporting immigrant workers from the city, forcing poorer citizens to dress in accordance to their social class under threat of arrest, arson, violent prison breaks, kidnapping and killing teenagers for ransom, planting explosives in government buildings, brutalizing peaceful protesters, and ordering the mass execution of hundreds of people.

The "canon" Chosen of Bhaal ends up being Torlin Silvershield (before he's quickly defeated and becomes a wight in the Dead in Thay campaign); but in MiBG itself, all three of them are equally possible candidates.

Whichever candidate becomes his Chosen is dependant on how many points they get on "Bhaal's Favor Track" - essentially, if the player(s) don't successfully intervene with their less-than-noble affairs throughout the course of the game, they'll get one point in Bhaal's favor. Whoever has the most points at the end becomes Bhaal's Chosen. Alternatively, a player character can also become Bhaal's Chosen if none of the other candidates are available or there's otherwise some special circumstance in the campaign that warrants that happening (which is what happens to my Dark Urge in my personal version of the story).

Prior to the death of Gorion's Ward, Torlin Silvershield was a Duke on the Council of Four, while Ulder Ravengard was the Marshal of the Flaming Fist. After Gorion's Ward dies, the seat for the Grand Duke is left vacant and much of the conflict in MiBG surrounds multiple characters scrambling to get elected for the position (including Torlin and Ulder) while The Guild stirs conflict in the Lower City in response to the increasingly oppressive laws being passed by the Parliament of Peers.

Descent into Avernus canonized Ulder getting elected as Grand Duke. Torlin might take it upon himself to ACT as Grand Duke in the absence of an official one, but he never actually gets elected at any point (the wiki is just wrong about that one). I don't think the game ever mentions Torlin by name anywhere, but it DOES mention Rilsa Rael in a letter from Keene:

This means that Rilsa IS still alive and a current Kingpin in The Guild, so she (probably) didn't move down too far on Bhaal's hypothetical Favor Track.

I think the implication is either that Torlin is taken to Thay immediately after he's defeated and Bhaal had always intended for him to be disposable or he was never truly Bhaal's Chosen to begin with (the Dark Urge becoming his Chosen in his place) and that was a rumor spread by people who witnessed the attack of "Bhaal's Chosen" during the fete or something.

Because Murder in Baldur's Gate wasn't written with BG3 in mind, some of the information just outright isn't accurate anymore (like Ulder being described as childless and never married, for example). So imo anything that isn't mentioned in the game is up to your interpretation.

EDIT: I already explained this in a reblog, but for anyone who sees this without the addition, Torlin is NOT the "canon" Chosen of Bhaal (at least not across the board). The Forgotten Realms wiki just took a paragraph from Dead in Thay out of context. If you're gonna use the fandom wiki to find information, check whatever source books it cites first.