#raphael bg3 imagine

[sserpente]

The Devil's Prized Possession

Synopsis: You are Raphael's warlock and tasked with the most difficult mission: Retrieve the Crown of Karsus from the clutches of Enver Gortash. Remember, Raphael does not take kindly to failure. But do him proud and he will reward you for your troubles. As it turns out, he's been particularly eager to introduce you to a certain Incubus for a while now...

A/N: During my 5th run doing the House of Hope I had the most devilish and filthiest idea for a Raphael fic…so here we go! ;)

Words: 3637 Warnings: smut, smut, smut, blood, injuries, violence, voyeurism/exhibitionism, mentions of suicide and rape (past events), and um… incubus?

“My, my…look at how diligent my little warlock has become.”

You breathed out, the grip around your dagger loosening. You were covered in sweat, your damp training clothes sticking to you like a second skin. There was a mirror in the corner a few feet away from where you’d put the training dummy—a straw sack dressed in leather armour. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair greasy. In short, you were in no way presentable to receive your devilish patron.

You flipped around, facing Raphael with his hands clasped behind his back and a sly smile on his lips.

“Do you ever use doors? And knock? Like a normal person?”

“Oh but I am far from a normal person, am I not?”

You sighed. “I remember. That’s how I ended up in this situation in the first place. Why are you here?”

“Why am I here? Can a devil not check in on his little…protégée?”

You scoffed. “Come now, Raphael. I know you better than that. What do you want?”

“Very well. Let us cut to the chase. I have a mission for you.”

“A mission?” You frowned, removing the gloves you had been wearing to protect your knuckles. “For me? Does Korilla have annual leave?” you joked.

“I did not ask Korilla, I am asking you.”

You crossed your arms before your chest when he stalked closer, his eyes fixed on your form, observing every little movement you made. “Running errands for you was not part of our deal, Raphael.”

“Then perhaps you will be interested if I tell you what’s in it for you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Why, power, of course, my dear. What do you know of the crown of Karsus?”

Power? To hunt down the remaining thugs who’d stolen your life? “I’m listening.”

He followed you over to your small kitchen area. You kept some good wine hidden away in a cupboard for the sole purpose of his visits. Your life in Baldur’s Gate wasn’t exactly a luxurious one. When Raphael stepped into your life and you became a Warlock to take revenge on your family’s murderers and your rapist, he’d saved you from a dark pit you feared you’d never be able to get out of. You’d been close to suicide when he found you and offered you a way out. You didn’t regret it, didn’t regret the power his devilish abilities trickled into your very blood to give you abilities beyond your comprehension. Raphael was the reason you were still alive. All he had asked for in return was your soul—forever a guest in his House of Hope.

Raphael sat down at your mangled table. If he was disgusted by the leftovers of your breakfast and the dirty dishes, he hid it well.

You poured him a glass and set it before him on the wooden surface before sitting down opposite him.

“I assume you know the story of Karsus?”

You nodded. “Who doesn’t?”

“Then you’ll know what a powerful artefact the crown is. And I want it.”

“Well, where is it right now?” you asked, seemingly unaffected by his words. You knew better than to question him. You didn’t give a shit about this world anymore. If he decided to take over, at least you knew he’d make the sinners suffer, simply by seducing them into agreeing to a deal with him that they could not refuse.

“It was stolen, my dear. Stolen by someone you know all too well. It was our self-proclaimed saviour of Baldur’s Gate, Lord Enver Gortash. I hear he is up for archduke now.”

You frowned. “Why would Gortash steal the crown of Karsus?”

“Why would anyone? The crown in the hands of this Banite tyrant will bring ruin to the city, to the whole of Faerûn. I intend to save it. I want the crown,” he repeated.

“Wait. Did you say Banite? Enver Gortash is a Banite? Really?”

“The crown, dear. We were talking about the crown.”

“Alright, alright. So what do you want me to do?”

“Oh, it’s quite simple, actually.” He leaned back and smirked. “I want you to retrieve it for me.”

“And steal from the future archduke?”

“You are skilled in stealth. You will find a way.”

“Why me? Why not Korilla?”

“Korilla has been tasked with…some other business of mine.”

You blinked, considering his offer. “I still fail to see what’s in it for me.”

“The crown of Karsus will allow me to become the archdevil supreme. The most powerful devil in existence. Legions will bow to me and follow my command and the hells…will be mine. And you shall become the most powerful warlock any devil has ever taken under their wing.”

“Those were a lot of ‘most powerfuls’ in one sentence. But fine. I bite.”

“Excellent.” He waved his hand and out of a mist of smoke and sparks, a roll of parchment appeared. “Here is all you need to know to infiltrate Wyrm’s Rock. I expect results within a fortnight. Do not disappoint me, little mouse.”

He was gone before you could respond, his glass of wine left untouched.

Stupid, handsome devil. Stupid, stupid Banites! You should never have agreed to this. How could you have known that they would start a bloody cult directly at Wyrm’s Rock? Who could have known that they would, instead of questioning you, send you to the prisons to have you executed the next day? Raphael. Raphael could have known. You scoffed. That damn devil. He’d never elaborated on the consequences if you failed but knowing him, it couldn’t be good.

But then again…you’d already promised him your soul in return for your powers, so what else could he possibly take from you now? You were of little use as a lemur, after all.

If you ever made it out of here, at least you wouldn’t return completely empty-handed, you thought, as you played with the loose straws of hey on the dirty ground. You’d found out a great deal about Gortash’s plans. And he wasn’t operating alone, either. He had both the Chosen of Bhaal and the Chosen of Myrkul by his side.

You’d always known Gortash to be a bit shady but this form of evil was on another level entirely, even for him. An Elder Brain? Frozen ceromorphosis? An Illithid empire with him on top? You shook your head.

It was just then that sparks of hellfire danced through the cell. Smoke erupted in the corner, the smell of sulphur filling the stale air; and yet, despite the discomfort this very circumstance should have brought you, you felt relief flooding your body.

“My, my, what a predicament you have gotten yourself into here.”

“Raphael! Thank the gods… get me out of here, please!”

He truly was a sight to behold—hope, ironically, given your current predicament.

“Come. We have much to discuss.”

You stood, patting the dirt and the dust from your clothes. A sliver of hesitation wrapped its icy claw around your heart as you took the hand he offered and teleported you to safety. But wherever he took you…it was not your home.

“Where are we?” You peeked around, taking in your lavish surroundings. Imposing statues of devils—of Raphael himself—towered up into the air, marble pillars holding a high ceiling. Everything in here had been placed in the right spot with the utmost care, carefully chosen by Raphael himself, even the bottle of finely aged wine and the silver chalice next to it on the small table in front of a luxurious armchair by the fireplace.

The chimney was lit and spreading warmth. This…this was…

“The House of Hope,” Raphael finished your thought.

“I’m in the hells?”

“Indeed you are, my dear. Now. Have a seat. And tell me what happened.”

You did as you were told—there was little to no reason for you to resist or fall to your knees to beg him for his forgiveness. Not yet, anyway.

Raphael sat down in the armchair opposite you.

“You are…surprisingly calm,” you said.

“Should I not be?”

“Well…I failed you. Your mission. Aren’t you going to roast me over eternal hellfire?”

“You did fail. Except you did not.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“I knew that retrieving that crown was going to be no easy feat. I knew Gortash was a force not to be underestimated. You merely needed the motivation to try. So tell me. What were you able to find out?”

You blinked. You were…forgiven? By Raphael himself? Confused and still a little hesitant, you told him everything you had learned—including where his precious Crown of Karsus was right now.

“Hmm…hmm…”

He looked away and said nothing else for a while but who were you to interrupt his devilish thoughts?

“That indeed changes the game…I will need time to accommodate to these…circumstances, shall we say.”

“So…am I dismissed?”

Finally, Raphael’s gaze found yours again. His smirk burned hot in your veins, setting the power he fed you with ablaze. Damn that warlock connection.

“You are. You provided me with everything I needed to know about the crown’s whereabouts. About Gortash’s plan, the dead three, and the Elder Brain. You did well.”

You tilted your head. “No punishment? No ‘your soul will burn in eternal hellfire for failing me’?”

A pause. And then, his smirk grew even wider. “No.”

“Okay…um…thank you. So…how do I get back home?”

“You don’t.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“As of right now, you are a wanted criminal and a traitor to Baldur’s Gate. The Banites will long have infiltrated your home. It would be suicide to return just yet.”

Shit. He had a point. “But…where am I supposed to go then?”

“Why, you will stay here, of course, in my House of Hope.”

“You…you want me to stay here…in the hells…with you?”

“Now, now, I will be very busy. Do not expect me to entertain you, little mouse.”

You bit your lower lip. You despised his nickname for you…except you didn’t—and neither did, apparently, your nether regions.

“But for now…” he continued, looking you up and down as if deep in thought all of a sudden. “Let me show you around. I believe you deserve a reward for all your hard work. You can freshen up in my boudoir, wash the dirt from your skin. You will most certainly enjoy what awaits you there.”

You didn’t like his tone when he said that. Not at all. Expect you loved it. There was something sensual about Raphael’s voice—the devil loved to listen to himself talk but of course, that was nothing new. You’d grown to like his ways, his attitude, even his arrogance. After all, he was the very reason for your powers.

Raphael led you through a long and empty corridor, safe for the souls who had been unfortunate enough to strike a deal with him. If this was his way of showing you what awaited you once you perished…you swallowed thickly, your stomach churning.

“Oh…oh…oh…you will be so much fun to watch!” The soul who spoke to you had wide eyes and she was visibly…aroused. Perhaps at this point, your alarm bells should have been ringing. Whatever Raphael’s plans were…whatever awaited you in the boudoir…

“I gave them exactly what they asked for, little mouse,” Raphael said, his hand finding the small of your back. “Don’t worry. The fate you promised me will be much less hopeless and sufferable.”

You stepped through what resembled a portal—an arcane lock, you realised—keeping unwanted visitors out. Cool magic grazed your skin, and then you faced a vast pool with two running faucets on either end. Cushions, wine, delicacies, and even books formed a wreath around the pool, along the wall there were several wardrobes you assumed contained fresh clothes and towels. There was another area behind the pool, one that was barely visible from where you were standing. Still, you could make out the wooden posts and the luxurious fabric of a king-size bed.

“Please… step inside. Help yourself to some fruit and some wine.”

You hesitated—again. But this time it was because of a strange stab of excitement in your stomach.

Eventually, you stepped forward and took off your boots. Raphael, however, made no move to leave. Instead, he stalked over to a lush sofa in front of a high window and sat down with his legs spread wide as if he owned the place. Well. He did.

What was his plan? Was he going to watch you? You knew better than to object. You had no problem with nudity, although it was a little strange Raphael would want to watch you bathe.

With a sigh—if anything to shake off the nervousness eating away at your insides—you began to undress until not a single layer of fabric remained.

Your patron’s eyes followed your every move as you stepped into the pool, taking in every single inch of your exposed skin. It was…pleasant. The water was just right and as it wrapped around your limbs to clean it, it felt…soft.

You moved to the middle of the pool, submerging yourself until the water reached your collarbones. The bruises and cuts you had taken with you from this mission all but shrunk and disappeared, leaving behind healthy and unmarred skin. Restoration faucets…no wonder Raphael always looked so impeccable and untouched.

The relief was like a balm for your body. Your aches disappeared, the exhaustion draining from your core. You were about to close your eyes when all of a sudden, a tall figure appeared above you. A gust of wind tore through your hair. You looked up, discovering bat-like wings keeping a red-skinned figure in the air with its arms crossed, a sly smirk on its—his lips.

The demon, an Incubus, you recognised quickly, was the spitting image of Raphael.

“Hello, little mouse.” Fuck. He sounded like him too. “Is that your little warlock?” he asked. You were very well aware he wasn’t talking to you, yet all you could do was stare at him with wide eyes and your jaw dropped.

“Isn’t she a fine specimen?” Raphael bragged.

“She is indeed.” The incubus lowered himself down until his bare feet touched the carpeted floor, his eyes, identical to Raphael’s, never leaving your form. You were frozen in place. Meeting an incubus in the flesh was quite a remarkable experience—but also potentially dangerous. What did your patron have in mind? To show you off? You gasped for air. He’d promised you a ‘reward’. He couldn’t have been referring to…

“My name is Harleep,” the incubus purred as he flew closer. The faint smell of sulphur hit your nostrils. Every instinct inside of you screamed for you to get out, to save yourself…yet a very depraved and filthy part of you was begging you to stay to see what would happen. What could happen.

You told him your own name and he gave a toothless grin. “Such a pretty little mouse…what do you say? Should we make you feel good? I take it Raphael has brought you here because you’ve been a very, very good girl.”

You lower regions clenched. Fuck. Why did this excite you so much? It shouldn’t. And yet, you found yourself nodding. “I…I think so?”

Raphael chuckled. “I was hoping you’d say yes. Harleep is a very…thorough lover. And I do admit, after all of our time spent together, I am rather curious as to what it would be like to claim you.”

Oh. Oh. He…oh gods. If there was one thing you knew about Raphael it was that he was quite possibly the most narcissistic and self-absorbed devil in the nine hells. It was beneath him to mingle with anyone who didn’t live up to his standards—and the only one who did, apparently, was himself.

You actually had to bite back a laugh when you realised. Raphael had made Harleep take his form because he wouldn’t fuck anyone but himself. And now…he wanted to watch Harleep fuck you. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find the thought intriguing. It had been ages since you’d last had sex, besides, receiving pleasure from an incubus? There was nothing else like it. Should you give in?

“My…such a shy little mouse…” Harleep’s hand came up to stroke your cheek as you stood there in the water, naked and dumbfounded. It slid down the side of your face, over your neck, your shoulders, and your arm until he was able to intertwine his fingers with yours and gently pull you with him.

And just like that…all of your remaining resistance, any doubts and fears…faded away. Harleep snapped his fingers to dry your skin and had you sprawl out on the huge king-size bed. The bed sheets were soft, silk, or satin as you sank into the mattress and rested your head on the pillow. The Incubus crawled over you in an almost predatory manner, Raphael following suit behind him. He pulled up a chair and poured himself a glass of wine, his mischievous eyes glistening with curiosity and desire.

Oh gods…he really was going to do this, wasn’t he? This was going to happen. He was going to watch Harleep fuck you right before his eyes.

You breathed out when Harleep grabbed your knees and spread your legs for him to position himself between them. You glanced down, eyes widening a little at his size. He was as hard as a rock, his red skin almost glowing in the orange light of the hells. Feeling him inside you…all of a sudden, there was nothing else you wanted in this world any more than this, any more than him.

He already was fucking with your mind then…Incubi had an uncanny ability to charm their victims before they devoured them entirely. But surely, Raphael wouldn’t let him go this far…would he?

Harleep’s tip pressed against your entrance and you realised in shock that you were dripping wet. Your pussy was throbbing, eager to take a cock and ease the growing arousal he was making you feel.

“Now…let us see how you taste, little mouse.” Harleep buried himself inside you to the hilt without any forewarning, meeting no resistance from your wanton body. A gasp escaped your lips as he claimed you, causing Raphael to chuckle as he twirled the red wine in his chalice before taking a sip.

“Hmm…like a lush and ripe fruit, juicy and ready to be plucked…” the incubus raved.

Was that really how you tasted to a sex demon? You couldn’t talk, couldn’t think… You bit your lower lip, digging your nails into the sheets as Harleep began to move inside you, withdrawing almost entirely only to plunge himself back in and fuck you slowly and intimately as if to savour your body.

Your breathing grew heavier, your arousal climbing even higher. Every single thrust was an ode to an impending orgasm. It was pleasure like you had never experienced it before. Nothing else mattered anymore. Whatever Harleep was doing, whatever his superpower was…it was working. Penetrative sex alone never did the trick for you—but with him, you’d been on the brink of climax from the very moment he’d sheathed himself inside of you.

Raphael chuckled and your head fell to the side. His gaze lingered on your joined bodies, taking in your bouncing breasts and Harleep’s powerful strokes, his cock disappearing into your wet warmth over and over again. He looked…fascinated—and you couldn’t help but let it fuel your carnal desire to drown in a whirlwind of lust.

Harleep joined in on the devil’s chuckle. “Keep going, little mouse. I can feel you tightening around me. You want to come so badly, don’t you?”

You bit your lower lip harder, almost drawing blood. Forcing your eyes back on Harleep, you nodded eagerly.

“Then come, little mouse. Show us how much you are enjoying this.”

It was all you wanted to hear, all you needed to hear. You fell apart beneath him on the bed, the delicious knot in your stomach unbound. Your walls contracted around Harleep’s cock who did not relent, fucking you through your orgasm until you turned into a whimpering mess.

The pleasure cursed through you like pure electricity, your mind shutting off. You were his…his for the taking, his to feed on, his to do with you as he pleased, forever…

“Now, now, Harleep. Don’t forget your manners.”

The incubus chuckled and with a start, as the last remaining weaves of bliss ebbed away, you woke up. Harleep dug his nails into your hips, lifting them off the bed to bury himself even deeper. He fucked you hard and fast now, ready to take his own relief.

“Do not come inside of her,” you heard Raphael say. His tone allowed no contraction.

You threw your head back, enjoying every single luscious thrust until Harleep stilled and pulled out, one of his hands wrapping around his length to finish himself off.

Ropes of his seed landed on the clean bed sheets between your legs, staining the pretty fabric. You were panting, fighting for your sanity when part of you didn’t even want it back.

“My, my…what a show.”

You half-expected Raphael to clap. Instead, he only chuckled again and got up from his seat. You couldn’t help it—you glanced down, noticing the considerable bulge in his trousers.

“Join me for dinner once you’ve recovered. You must be famished, my dear.”

With that, he left, leaving you behind with a seemingly out-of-breath Incubus who was still drinking in your essence, your arousal. He seemed…satiated. Amused, even.

Fuck. You’d need that restoration faucet again before you could even consider having supper with the very devil you had promised your soul to.

[sscamanderr]

Gods Above, Devils Below

Raphael x reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, bit of dub/con

Near-blistering air carried with it smoldering embers and the faintest hint of cherries. The House was his domain, the very pores in the rock filled with his scent, meant to overwhelm and lay claim to all those who enter and all those who would never leave. Despite this control Raphael had over his hellish home, it was steadily dwindling in the presence of the creature before him. Her scent was all that surrounded him. Her face that clouded his dreams. Her, the darling who bartered her soul so that her friends could be heroes and save her home of Baldur’s Gate. An honorable act had earned her a fool’s fate.

How the gods above should see her now, playing servant at his side on one of his castle’s many balconies with stoicism etched into her expressions, stray hairs whipped about her face by hell-wind. A golden tray with an ancient bottle of wine and a single goblet rested atop her upturned palms. Her eyes were frozen at a point ahead on the jagged and ashen landscape of his palace safely tucked away in his slice of Avernus. The darling dared not look at him—dared not spare him a glance that would hold him over through the night.

His lips curled in annoyance and he swore the woman braced herself. The slightest puff of her chest, the stiffening of her back already pin-straight. Raphael could not deny the swell of devious pride that just his change in attention caused such a reaction in her. She had been seeing him even without looking.

“Do pretend to be happy, little mouse. I could have you scoured away in my dungeons in Hope’s place, should you keep up your display of disrespect,”

He reveled in the way the delicate muscle under her eye twitched.

“Hope is a much better prize than I, devil, but do what you wish.”

Raphael let out a spirited sound from his chest. “Ha! What I wish for is a little appreciation for your current arrangement,” his eyes trailed down the woman’s body, the gossamer gown the color of the surrounding barren landscape leaving little to the imagination if he were to squint, “I allow you almost entirely free reign of the palace, meals, baths, music—“

“And endless poetry from yours truly?” She quipped. Her stoney stature finally broke. Raphael’s way to rejoice was to grace her with a slowly creeping smile.

“You’re such wonderful inspiration. Prayers ignored by the gods, forgotten by friends you risked your soul for,” the devil clenched a fist, “A little darling in the clutches of a fiend forevermore,”

Her gaze soured. The tray in her hands wobbled dangerously. “I know what I’ve done. That does not mean I have to enjoy it,”

“Ah, but it’s such a delight to try. Who knew lending fine treatment only leads to your torture instead?”

“‘Fine treatment’? I’m a servant,”

“My servant, yes,” Raphael stood, noting the way her eyes followed his form. He wondered if it would always be fear behind her fierce gaze or if he could see it change to awe. Or desire. Then he wondered again if he preferred the fear a little too much. “That’s what your contract says, dear one,”

“I know what it says!” She snapped. With a breath strained with anger she set the tray with his wine down on the small round side table nearby before it toppled completely. She stormed away from him, towards devils know where. Raphael remained quiet as he followed close behind—Oh how he loved to rile his little pet. He admired the glimpse of supple thigh as the material of her dress whipped around her legs in her movements of fury.

“Something burdens you,” Raphael gave no warning as his hand shot out to grip her wrist. The woman came to an abrupt halt at the threshold of his balcony. The golden bracer adorning her wrist clinked softly. “I gave your friends the solution they’d been fighting for, the happy ending you felt they so deserved. Yet you feel they don’t deserve it, right?”

Her jaw worked around her stuttered reply. “O-Of course they do.”

“Then what still burns so harshly in that brave heart of yours?” Raphael’s insides sang at the roll of her eyes.

“Do I really have to answer that?” She asked the air in front of her. Raphael gave but a small tug that had her spinning to face him.

His voice took a darker pitch. “Oh, I command it,”

This glorious creature of his stood shorter than he but perfected the act of looking down her nose at him nonetheless.

“Release me, devil,”

“That was not negotiable,” his grip tightened and the woman winced. She looked into his eyes, looking upon how they blazed in her presence. “And do call me Raphael,”

“Just yesterday you told me ‘it’s master to you’,”

“Answer,” he warned, and the woman squirmed. Her nostrils flared, that fire in her heart spread; Raphael basked in the heat.

“I regret every second,” she spat. “I called them friends. I held them. I even shared in their kisses. But they allow me to sell myself to help their cause. They left me down here to rot in a devil’s prison,”

Raphael inhaled deeply, audibly. “Your bitterness becomes you, darling. The taste of it is marvelous,”

The woman flinched, and he did not know if it came from his words or disbelief of her own. Raphael answered for her. “There it is. The truth you've been denying yourself of for all the time you’ve been in my domain,”

His little mouse’s fire doused. Raphael opened his fingers and she tucked her hand away. She hugged her arms across her chest, silky fabric catching gently on the gold bracer. “I did what I thought was right. I can only blame myself.”

“That is what I find most fascinating about you, dear one,” Raphael held her gaze and stepped closer, causing his delightful dear to maintain the distance with a hasty step backward.

“What’s fascinating?” Her question dripped with wariness though she refused to shrink away from him as he neared once again.

“Your loyalty to those most cruel to you. So-called friends wouldn’t leave you here this long without at least an attempt of rescue,” Raphael began, watching the woman’s nose crinkle, “The gods didn’t listen to you,”

“As you love to point out, devil,”

“Raphael,” he stated; a repeat reminder. “Let me finish now, pet.” He stalked forward until the woman had nowhere to run, nowhere to flee. Her back pressed against the stone railing behind her and her mouth pinched in helpless frustration. “The gods didn’t listen to you…” Raphael brought his knuckle under her chin and tipped it up so he could gaze upon the face that brought him such delicious turmoil, “but I will,”

Pretty lips parted and breath hitched. The struggle with realization danced behind her eyes. Her chin jerked back and away from his touch. What terrible games she played.

“There is nothing you can offer me,” she swallowed; Raphael watched her throat move and wanted to wrap his hand around it.

“On the contrary, my darling,” he pressed closer, sliding a leg between her own and finding now resistance. Her shock was evident, but she quickly gathered her wits and bared her teeth.

“You have Haarlep for your filthy needs,” The bite of her words left no marks.

“What of your filthy needs?” Raphael felt a smirk pull at his lips. “We are bound, dear one. I feel your loneliness—the ache it bears on you. You miss the affection of your companions. Look to me to remedy that,”

“I hate even looking upon your face, devil,” her palms pushed on his chest only to find him immovable. He took her hands in his and maneuvered her to face away. She yelped as her stomach pressed against the railing.

“Then don’t,” Raphael hissed in her ear from behind; he heard her swear in response. His hands released hers and they trailed up her arms. She dared not move. Gently as he wished, they slid over her trembling shoulders. Down her sides, to her hips.

Rage pooled around her, mixed with something else.

“You said you’d listen to me,” her statement sounded more like a question, asked with a sigh. Resignation. That’s what he detected.

“Yes, pet,”

Her hands gripped the stone she pressed against, “I want to see what my sacrifice helped,” she breathed unevenly, “That’s all I ask. I want to know exactly what I was worth,”

Raphael summoned a shimmering visage of the world above, of a healing Faerûn. Not free of conflict, but not at war; not under threat of the Elderbrain. Raphael felt the woman in his arms shake against his front but she held her head high.

“Thank you.” The statement was whispered but it echoed through him with all the strength it took her to say it.

“I am a man of my word, dear one,” he bowed his head and kissed the soft spot where her neck met her shoulder. Another shudder ran through her. This time she did not resist.

“Make it quick,” she said. Her words were edged with malice.

“You ask impossible things of me,” Raphael nipped at her earlobe. It earned him a growl. He drank it in as his hands crawled over the front of her thin gown. The piece draped in front lifted with weightless ease. His darling shifted, making the curve of her ass press against his hips.

She remained wordless as he grazed the bare plane of her belly with his fingertips. He brought himself closer against her, molding around her body and gliding his mouth over her neck. “I want to touch you, dear one. I will touch you, in all the ways we both need,” She inhaled sharply as his hand sank further down her torso and his middle finger found the slit of her. Heat pulsed from her swollen bud under the pad of his finger. Raphael let out a deep purr.

His darling bit back a moan. “Damn it, devil…”

He chuckled darkly as collected her wetness and began to rub rhythmic circles. Her jaw opened soundlessly beneath his lips. Raphael parted from her enough to watch her eyes flutter closed. Fingers joined together and applied more pressure. She whined. Music to his ears. The devil played her sensitive body like organ keys. Her back bowed. In arching her back she became a crescent moon. Glowing and pure in his world of darkness. Just a little sliver of her could make him howl. And he heard it.

“Raphael…” she pleaded. He could have crashed into his own climax with the brush of a hand. His name cried from her lips brought the old devil halfway to salvation.

His fingers curled and pumped inside her tight heat, slick dripping between them. She came undone with her head thrown back against his shoulder, knees weakening enough to make him hold her up with his own body. His darling collapsed into him, knuckles white from her grip around the stone railing. His chin nuzzled her hair and lips planted a kiss to her temple. Embers and cherries scented the air. Teeth grazed her neck, begging to sink in and claim her.

There was no need. Her soul already his. Now her body too. Maybe now she would come to welcome him enthusiastically, to let him make her forget the shared moments of intimacy with her companions. Maybe now she would look upon him without fuss, and with reverence as he tasted more and more of her. The possibilities made his fiendish heart race.

As he panted into her skin, he thought of the numerous deals he refused made by her friends for her release. Some more tempting than others: ascension, a throne, a crown. Raphael found it all too easy to resist. He’d gotten what he’d desired and he’d tell her one day about her friends’ attempts at being heroes again. Only when he was sure they could both laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it. Only when he was sure she would choose nothing else than to be at his side. Raphael could taste the delight of that future on his tongue. He would have it one day. They had eternity together, after all.

[kawareo]

Lae'zel is pretty fluent in Common but since she still sometimes messes up some words, I don't believe she understands a third of all the big words Gale uses casually. My headcanon is that she memorizes them during the day and then goes to demand elaborations in the evening, and Gale is very happy to have someone to teach linguistics to.

By the end of the game she can call Vlaakith an pernicious, diminutive old fuck, cut to Gale in her corner wiping away a tear of pride

[shahs1221]

@sky-kiss and I had a convo concerning size diff stuff and uh... Yeah. She's got a ficlet here!

More early and additional sketches (including a more ahem exposed angle for this piece) can be seen on my Patreon!

[sabersandsnipers]

Drabbles: Just One Bed (part ii)

Featuring: Astarion, Halsin, Gale, Raphael

A/N: I love that you are all as obsessed with the one bed trope as I am lol. Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting

Astarion

You can’t explain the pleasure that courses through your veins every time Astarion feeds from you. The delicious waves of heat that writhe in your lower abdomen. The light feeling that envelopes you as your blood is slowly drained from your vessels.

This current feeding session isn’t any different. Slight moans leave your lips at the delicious feeling floating through you. Astarion cradles your head for easier access to your neck, his other hand grips your thigh, holding you in place.

Just when the edges of your vision begin to blur, his fangs part from your skin. You let out a breath, heat flushing through you. His tongue licks the remaining blood off your neck. The hot feeling of his tongue gliding along your skin earns a shiver from deep within you.

“Thank you,” he sighs, hovering over you. “I was feeling so weak.”

You simply nod, your mind so mushy you can’t even form a coherent sentence. Your limbs feel like jelly. Your breaths come out in heavy bursts, as if you just were running uphill.

Astarion notices your state, taking in the paleness of your skin, and the slight shake in your hands. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?” It’s the least he could do after taking so much from you.

You look at him, an incredulous look on your face. He’s never invited you to stay with him before. Not that the invitation isn’t tempting. The last thing you want to do right now is drag yourself to your own tent. Besides, you find Astarion’s presence comforting, despite his history.

“Sure,” you respond, your body relaxing a bit.

Sleep is quick to find you. After a few hours of dreaming, you wake to find yourself in Astarion’s arms. His face is buried in your neck. Your body is flush against his, and you can feel the firmness of his body.

You smile to yourself, happy to help find comfort in any form.

Halsin

The grass beneath you tickles your skin. The hardness of the ground presses into your back uncomfortably. You always admired Halsin’s connection to nature. But did he have to be so connected he had to insist on sleeping in the woods?

Traveling with Halsin alone meant “using the forest as your resting place”, as he had said too excitedly. You couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. He was absolutely giddy at the prospect of a sleepover with you under the stars.

But now, with twigs digging in your back and rocks up your ass, it’s hard to see the bright side of the situation. You toss and turn, trying to find any sort of comfortable position.

“Are you alright?” You hear Halsin’s deep voice ask.

You squirm against the ground again. “I’m alright. I just…feel a little exposed is all.”

He chuckles. “Understandable, seeing as it’s your first time sleeping in the forest.”

You hear him shuffle closer to you. The heat of him is quick to reach you. “Come here,” he says, reaching for you.

You allow him to pull you onto his bare chest. The firmness of his body is somehow more comfortable than the hardness of the ground. He wraps his arms around you, securing you in place .

Every inch of you is acutely aware of his proximity. He seems unbothered by your positioning though. You will admit, laying on top of him is much better than the cold, hard ground.

His thumbs trace circles along your exposed skin, and your arms wrap themselves around his neck as you find the most comfortable position you can.

“Better?” He asks. His voice vibrates through you.

“Much,” you tell him, and he lets out a contented sigh.

Gale

Your group was lucky to reach an inn before the storm began raging. The dark clouds stirring above you gave evidence of the snow about to fall. Goosebumps pebbled your skin as the temperature dropped.

You’re grateful to have an actual bed for the night as well. Not so grateful you have to share with someone else. But if you had to share with someone, Gale isn’t a bad choice. He’s one of the few members that’s actually considerate, even selfless.

The bed is pretty small, and even with the fireplace going, you find yourself growing cold. You pull the blanket around yourself as tightly as you can, careful to not take too much cover away from Gale. You can feel warmth radiating from him, though, and your body craves it.

Your teeth chatter suddenly, and you clamp them in an attempt to smother the noise.

“You’re cold aren’t you?” Gale suddenly asks. You turn to face him, a slight flush heating your cheeks as you notice he’s sleeping shirtless.

“I’m fine,” you lie, not wanting to complain.

He sighs, motioning you over. “Just come here. We’ll stay warm if we’re close.”

You know you should deny him. Snuggling with a companion is a risky game. But you trust Gale.

You scooch over into his embrace, sighing at the warmth of him. He wraps his arms around you as you rest your head against his chest. Your fingers are freezing, so you place them against his torso.

He hisses. “Your hands are freezing.”

You giggle. “Sorry. I hope you don’t mind.”

You feel his mouth move against your hair. “Not at all.”

His skin nearly feels like fire against the cold, but it’s also a welcome feeling. You admire how he holds you so tightly. You breathe in his scent, noticing how it comforts you.

It doesn’t take long for his heat to seep into you, and eventually, a deep sleep overtakes you.

Raphael

It’s either sleep in his bed with him, or sleep in your cell. He says you should call him merciful for giving you a choice, but it doesn’t feel like mercy. He’s so pleased with himself when you huff with frustration at his offer.

Sleep with a devil, or sleep behind bars. You’re not sure which one is worse. In the end, you choose the option with the bed. Knowing Raphael, it will be one of the most comfortable beds you’ve ever slept on.

He doesn’t hesitate to instantly invade your personal space when you crawl under the sheets. You feel his presence at your back, and you know his eyes are raking over you, taking in every detail he can. Searching for every button he can push.

He presses himself against you, wrapping an arm around your torso to hold you. A tingly feeling builds in your lower abdomen. You scold yourself. This creature simply wants to tease you.

And tease you he does. He traces those claws of his along your thighs. He lets his soft breaths linger at the back of your neck. He never reaches for an intimate part of you though, but will get close before backing off again. It leaves you feeling empty, and it drives you mad.

“I won’t be sleeping tonight, will I?” you ask him, a small shake in your voice.

“Not a wink, little mouse.” You can hear the smug smile in his voice.

[hyakunana]

POV: Even with advantage and buffs, your local folk hero just rolled 1 in Intimidation

[molinaesque]

Annoyed/pissed off Raphael moments that tickled me

[moonselune]

How do you think the BG3 companions would be as parents or aunties/uncles? I personally headcanon that Shadowheart would be a very doting mother but would be the fun aunt.

OOoooOOOOoOO yes I'm doing this for all of them, no character can escape me now

Karlach:

As an aunt:

She is definitely the auntie that comes round and the children just band together trying to take her to the ground

"Get Auntie Karlach"

And how auntie Karlach puts up a fight, she is swinging children around throwing them onto soft furnishings, tickling them.

Eventually she will relent and let the children pin her to the floor, pretending to 'die'

Though she has done this too convincingly and it too you half an hour to calm your child down, assuring them that auntie karlach was not in fact dead, and this was their aunt and not a zombie.

If there's just one child, you know that when they hear auntie karlach is coming round they are using al of their free time strategising on how to get her

Karlach will sometime take them as their hostage and refuse to let them go when they are hugging and just carries them around till you agree to her terms

Which is either a later bedtime for you (because at this point you have joined forces) or extra cake.

As a mother:

Mama K !!!!

So caring and doting, nothing is too much for her

She would move mountains for her kid and support them regardless

They want to be a bookworm? She wants to hear all your favourite stories

They are more sporty, she will beat them at every game and only occasionally let them win

Is honestly a big kid herself so I can so imagine, you having to call them in for dinner and they are both pouting saying that want to play outside for longer

definitely the less strict parent, they could probably get away with anything

as long as it doesn't mean they get hurt

as soon as they get hurt, mama k is not letting them out of their sight for a WEEK

Minthara:

As an aunt:

Not my kid, not my responsibility attitude

you want a dagger? Sure here's how to hold it properly

you cut yourself on it, that's too damn bad learn to hold it better

definitely buys them a ridiculous amount of expensive gifts but she doesn't really realise it

think of the vibe of "What can one banana cost? ten dollars?"

as soon as they get messy or are dirty they are not coming within 10 feet of her

Snot bubble? That child is getting yeeted across the room

Very much this

As a mother:

I have so many thoughts about this

I think because of her exile she would look at the drow matron system much differently

Instead of raising children to be pawns and agents of her plan there would be a deeper level of relationship meaning a deeper level of loyalty.

Loyalty is a big thing for Minthara and what is more loyal than the unconditional love of a child

so she is going to nurture and tend to that relationship, make that bond between her and her child incredibly strong, they want the child to adore her and respect her, so she will adore and respect them back (that's what she tells herself, in reality she loves her children dearly)

She will dote on them, ensure they only have the best, this is her child after all

Very possessive of the child, and very overprotective

Would definitely guilt the child

but that's probably the worst part of her parenting overall I feel like she would be a very fair and good parent in general (especially compared to normal drow mothers)

Lae'zel:

As an aunt:

aunt? more like coach.

she is training them to be the best warrior or whatever they want to be ever

will she drag your child out of bed at the crack of dawn so they can practice

will then tell them Gith stories when the child starts to fall asleep on them afterwards

carries them with care and tenderness

is so bad for contradicting you

parent said no? Well auntie Lae'zel says yes so lets do it

not allowed this thing? here's ten of them

As a mother:

I actually think she would be rather laid back

she wouldn't fret over them and trust that they knew what they were doing

though as soon as they don't know what they are doing she is there right away to hover over them and help

slightly protective but only because she doesn't trust others

teaches them self defence at the youngest age possible

tells them the best bedtime stories in extremely graphic detail to the point where you have to step in

but the child doesn't mind

in fact how did they manage to get to sleep so easily

her kid is better than the rest, can do no wrong, bad grades? More like bad teacher.

Shadowheart:

As an aunt:

Wine aunt - it's basically canon at this point, so all of these will be with a glass of wine in her hand lmao

Would be so down to have tea parties with them

prefers the sit down games rather than the running around screaming ones - those are for auntie karlach

Shows you all of her animals and teaches you their names and how to care for them

would definitely give them a pet even if you had already said no

and by the time you realise what's happened your child is too attached to it

definitely would let them mess around, and be like if you hurt yourself its your fault

but as soon as they hurt themselves, she's there healing them bribing them not to tell you what happened

As a mother:

helicopter mom to begin with and then eventually when her child proves to be more robust than expected she relaxes a bit

just says yes to any animal they find and want to bring home

so now there's foxy, ratty, mousey and badgery (Shadowheart tried to suggest names but they were having none of it)

Is always there for you no matter what, you can tell her anything and you feel like you can tell her anything

has a tendency to be a little strict but only for your own good

Jaheira:

As an aunt:

she is the aunt of all aunts

gives the best hugs, tells you the best stories

teases you all the time

just constant poking fun

and the day you give it back

she is just so proud

also has that attitude of 'not my kid not my responsibility' but that is such a lie

will love you like her own

As a mother:

we already see what Jaheira is like a mother

very welcoming but has a habit to push them away when there's danger involved or perhaps can be preoccupied with 'the greater good'

I also think that Jaheira is the type of mother to keep everything, every baby tooth, every drawing, everything

She keeps them in a little chest and when she is down she looks at them and she always feels so much better.

Gale:

As an uncle:

hey kids wanna see a cool trick

blows up the living room

"DO IT AGAIN!"

brings them books on just everything

reads to them a lot and teaches them things that they probably shouldn't know at their age

the kid needs an alibi?

Gale is there for it

We've seen his dialogue in the grove, we all know that he supports childhood deliquency and he will so support them in it

As a father:

Thinks their child is the most precious thing in the world

the light of his life (aside from you)

will teach them magic before they can even speak

puts on the most beautiful illusions for the child to sleep to

lives just to see them smile

very overprotective and guilty of infantilising your child

he can't help it, you are just so adorable

PTA Mom, he runs that motherfucker

No stacey, your lemon buns are not acceptable, and no its not because my child detests them, get a grip

he just absolutely adores his child

Astarion:

As an uncle:

Astarion would steal your child to help with his schemes and nobody can convince me otherwise

You think I? With this adorable baby on my hip, would steal your fine jewels? Honestly the audacity

Uses your child as an alibi

How could I do it? I was tending to my dear child

Ser that's not your-

MY DEAR CHILD

Much like Minthara, loves the child until they start making a mess

Would so make them little outfits and the child's teddies little outfits

As a father:

I believe that Astarion would see the child as his absolute fresh start

he is going to be the best version of himself for the child

he is going to try his absolute best for them

going to give them the world

will definitely teach them to lock pick at a young age

and again uses them as an alibi

You think I, with my adorable impressionable child right here, would steal? Truly your standard of parenting may be low but mine is not.

When the baby is on the way he is just stress sewing, your house is filled with baby clothes, blankets, quilts, hats anything Astarion could imagine that the child might need

your child in not wearing the same outfit twice, not because of fashion, no because there are simply so many outfits

Wyll:

As an uncle:

Would be the best story teller, and does all the voices and personas

Loves to play and mess around with them

Would teach them how to sword fight like he did with the children in the grove

Would spoil them rotten as well and know he was doing it though if confronted he would play so dumb

What do you mean I only got them this wooden rocking horse, I could have got them two - but I didn't !

As a father:

very similar to Wyll as an uncle

but imagine him passing down all of the stories and life lessons that his father passed down to him

but the thing that gets me in the feels

is him teaching the child how to dance

from them dancing on his toes to them being able to pull of a move flawlessly

Wyll would genuinely get emotional when you no longer need his guidance or help

And by emotional I mean sobbing

definitely overprotective when it comes to your potential dance partners and all that

no one will ever be good enough for his child

Halsin:

As an uncle:

would just steal the child

it is his now

so sorry for your loss but this is definitely not ur baby

yes they look identical but this one belongs to the forest

oh gods he would so kidnap the child if you lived in the city

but to him it's not kidnapping

it's rescuing

the city doesn't deserve such a treasure

teaches them how to carve wood and instills an important respect for nature into them

if your child got in an argument with you they would so pull the

"Well fine! I'm just going to live in the forest with Uncle Halsin!"

As a father:

They are so precious to him

When he looks into their eyes the world is just right

Their first word is bear, obviously

Teaches them druidic magic and how to wildshape

as soon as your child figures it out it is chaos

you have a bear and baby bear running riot

very hesitant to let you go out into the city

to go far from him actually

he has just lost so much

he cannot afford to lose you too

apart from that, he is the best

Rolan:

As an uncle:

the BEST

shows them so many cool tricks

definitely gives them spell books that they probably definitely should not have

would so side with them if they argued with their parent, regardless of if the child is in the right or not

he knows how his siblings can be

shows off to the kid all the time

when they were a baby they would tell Rolan he's found his perfect audience - one that can only watch in wonder

but as you grow you always demand that Uncle Rolan shows your his magic

and it warms his heart every single time

As a father:

He would be so nervous bless him

always thinking he is doing something wrong

but he is an amazing father

encourages and supports their ambitions

reads to them

I just have a picture of Rolan with a baby sling, tending to Ramazith's tower, just thinking aloud to them and when they babble back he exclaims how glad he is that they agree with them

very overprotective

he just doesn't want them to get hurt, like ever.

the child could scrape their knee and say they are fine and Rolan would be having a meltdown

Cannot handle you growing up

You will always be his baby

Raphael:

As an uncle:

I can't imagine him being a very doting uncle

Raphael most likely has loads of nieces and nephews and he does not care for a single one of them

unless

unless one of them is showing particular talent, something that he needs and then he is all over them

would definitely get them in a contract

"You can trust me, your dear Uncle, now just sign there.."

As a father:

M y h e i r

So devoted and dedicated to them

But also possessive and controlling I can imagine

He dictates their schedule, their schooling, where they go, what they wear, who they socialise with

they will be spectacular, his little hellfire

though lets say they disobeyed him, they snuck out for a few hours or so

they are not leaving the house of hope for a few months or so

that's how it works

they will obey him, and they will love him, he is their father, their creator

and if anyone hurts his child?

he will drag the offender to deepest pits of hell and make his child watch as a show of his love for them.

I'm so sorry that this was stuck in the drafts for so long but here it is ! These are mainly a collection of my own rambling thoughts but hope others enjoy it too ! - Seluney xox

[deardarlingdevil]

Imagine Raphael feeling a twinge of tenderness whenever he sees you.

Imagine Raphael denying to himself the protectiveness that washes over him at the sight of you.

Imagine Raphael tossing and turning at night, unable to sleep well because Korilla didn't have any new information on you.

Imagine Raphael writing feverishly in his journal about the new dream he had about you.

Imagine Raphael's panic when Korilla reports that you've been captured, and his relief once he knows you're safe, because he sent Korrilla to save you.

Imagine Raphael thinking that perhaps, he can be what he claims to be, and be a savior to you.

Imagine Raphael talking Korrilla's ear off about his plans for you, and it becomes painfully obvious to the warlock that he is deeply infatuated with his favorite misadventurer.

Imagine Raphael starting to believe his own words when he tells you that he has grown fond of you, or that he likes you.

Imagine Raphael realizing that the farcical "love" that he gets from an incubus pales in comparison to that unwanted feelings of love for you that continues to grip his dark heart.

Imagine Raphael, a half-devil, learning to embrace his mortal side, and all the messy feelings that comes with it, love included.

Imagine Raphael finally learning to love anyone other than himself, and he loves you. And he cannot spit it out.

[valentjin]

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi thank u for opening asks! Can I request headcanons for the male companions (and or gortash Raphael and the emperor) having a mute s/o either because they can’t talk or they’re very shy

A/N: Here ya go! Managed to get everyone to stay mostly in character. Please be warned there are hints of nsfw for each character, although nothing graphic in nature. And that the entries for Gortash and Raphael describe abusive relationships, so heed the trigger warnings below. 

🔇 Mute!Reader HC x BG3 Males: 🔇

TW: Domestic Abuse & Vaguely NSFW Content

(Abuse and Manipulation for the Gortash & Raphael ones. Also allusions to sex throughout each entry.)

Astarion: 

He’s suspicious of you at first. Even more so that you don’t talk. But if you prove you’re  not a threat in other ways, he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. He talks to you about the same. A good amount of what he says is either posturing or complaining- and that doesn't change just because you can’t talk back. If anything, he complains even more, knowing you wont tell him to shove off like the others. He greatly enjoys how dramatic he gets to be around you. He’ll lean against a city wall and dramatically lay the back of his hand over his face: ‘I tell you Darling, it’s like these people don’t notice me at all!’ You blink at his outburst, your expression unchanged, clearly unamused. 

Still says lots of witty comments under his breath, and subtly looks over at you to see if you’ve smirked or blushed in response. Gets really good at reading all the little reactions you make. He makes a mental catalog of every half smirk, every eye twitch, every shoulder shrug, so that he knows how you feel about something he or another has said.

Appreciates the fact that you’re unlikely to repeat anything he says to you, which makes him feel all the safer confiding in you about his condition and his past, knowing you can’t go sounding the alarm. 

Ends up going on tangents or rants about the others while you just sit there and kind of grimace, empathetically. He knows it can get annoying to just have to listen, but he’s extremely grateful for the outlet. Cazador certainly never cared what he was feeling. Nor did any of his ‘siblings’. But with you, he can bitch about his day only to turn around and find you still there, listening intently. 

Becomes a lot touchier. Like a lot. He switches from checking to verbal confirmation to physical confirmation. Takes your hand, or pulls you close, squeezes your shoulder- those sorts of things. 

Personally takes it as a challenge to see how loud he can get you to be when you’re intimate together ;) 

Gale: 

Doesn’t notice immediately lol. He’s too busy being overjoyed at the fact you don’t interrupt his long winded, pun-filled speeches to even consider it’s due to a disability or something similar on your part. He just thinks you’re the most wonderful listener. And of course, this makes him fall head over heels for you lol.

Once he does get it, he just sort of goes, ‘Oh.’ And lets that sit in the air. (He’s a bit awkward around you for a while, unsure of how to apologize, so you’d probably need to approach him and make your forgiveness known.) 

Once that misunderstanding is over, he immediately becomes occupied with finding spells to help you talk. If that’s something you want, you appreciate the effort, and let him know you’re in no rush. If that’s something you’re not interested in, you tell him as much. He’s a little disappointed and taken off guard. He explains he’s always used magic to solve his problems. You raise your brow and give him a look that says ‘And that’s been working well for you, has it?’ He relents after that. 

The two of you get really good at reading each other’s faces. And Gale takes it upon himself to talk less as well, even though you explain he doesn’t have to. He insists, saying he wants to understand what your life is like. He lasts like two days lol. 

Becomes mostly competent at understanding what you’re saying either via sign or body language, but occasionally Tera has to translate for you. Thank the gods for tressyms.

Wyll: 

Is momentarily taken aback, embarrassed by his concern he was being rude to you before, assuming you could talk to him but were choosing not to. Apologizes, profusely, for the misunderstanding on his part. 

Learns to communicate with you through other means, be it writing, or by whatever the Faerun equivalent of sign language is. He’s not the best at it, but he tries really hard to learn. Picks up basic phrases like greetings, and moods. Does request that you slow down if you’re fluent, to give his brain time to catch up. 

Doesn’t let anyone in the group make petty or passive aggressive comments while giving them a look or chewing them out. He’s very serious about it. The next time Astarion says something off the cuff, Wyll responds with, ‘Well, Astarion, I’d assume you of all people would be used to it being quiet. Having only the other rats of Baldurs Gate as friends for years.’ He’ll go for the jugular- he doesn't give af! No one gets to make you feel bad about it.

Considers going to Shadowheart or Halsin, or even Gale and asking them if there’s something they can do to help you/your condition, but that’s only with your blessing of course. He wants to help you, but doesn’t want to overstep. 

Comes to appreciate how honest you are in your other reactions- your eyes and your body language. Wyll is used to being deceived- by demons, humans, and the like- so he thinks it’s so special he can read you like a book. Whether you’re strolling through Baldur’s Gate, or enjoying your marital bed, it matters greatly to him how you truly feel and think. He’s glad he’s able to share your truth with him. 

Halsin: 

Catches on fairly quickly, although he doesn’t bring it up to you directly. He figures you will bring it up when you are ready to discuss it, and in the meantime, he would not want to pry. Listens intently when you tell him by checking in with your facial expression as he reads your writing. 

Tries to find ways to help you with what you can do. Suggests maybe enchanting a feather pen and scroll or some chalk and a small board to write out what you’re thinking so others can understand how it is you feel in real time. He offers his druid magic to do whatever you need. Hell, he even considers mentoring you to see if you feel nature’s calling. If you were a druid, perhaps you could develop a relationship with an animal companion, say a bird, or an awakened rat, or a giant eagle and get them to speak for you. 

Similar to Wyll, Halsin will try to learn sign language if that’s something you speak. However he isn’t the most adept at it. He’s very used to spellcasting, which requires at least one free hand, often his dominant hand. So he tries learning sign with his nondominant hand, but that makes it all the more difficult. He knows the alphabet, but that’s about it. You will have to slowly spell out your sentences word by word in order for him to get the gist. 

Makes sure you’re either safely hidden away at camp, or stay within his sight during a battle. He knows you cannot cry out for help, so he wants to make sure he can keep an eye on you throughout any conflict. 

Loves just being close to you. Swears he can hear the intention of your heart when the two of you are so close. He wants to assure you, your difference doesn’t make him love you any less. If anything, he is impressed with how much you continue to adapt to and overcome. He’ll say, ‘You need not speak for me to know your voice, my heart. One look in your eyes, and I know, it is an internal melody so beautiful, all of nature could not compare.’ He’ll place soft touches to your skin and face, and check your reaction before progressing any further. He thinks being intimate with you is the best way to express your emotions as a couple. After all, sex is the most ancient language of all.

Minsc: 

He doesn’t get it until Boo points it out to him lol. And even after being told, he still forgets from time to time. 

Minsc loves to talk. Well brag. And boast. And speak in the third-person. So he’s not thrown off by you having to refer to yourself with body language or with possessive pronouns in Common writings. 

He will ask you lots of questions, all throughout the day. Some are obvious and others are seemingly random, and difficult to explain with your words limited to being written down as fast as you can before Minsc’s mind wanders and changes the subject. It’s a workout for your wrists honestly. 

He will loudly announce that you’re mute every time you meet new people. ‘This is (Y/N), my dear love, she cannot speak. So (Y/N) will write her answers for Boo. And Boo will tell me. Then Minsc may tell you.’ You keep trying to tell him, the system doesn’t need Boo and him to interpret for you, especially if you’re already recording your answers in Common for others to read. 

He will never let you apologize for not being able to speak. He refuses to see it as a problem. ‘Minsc speaks loud enough for both of us, no?’ He thinks you’re the most wonderful person around. He could have his pick of the crop, and yet he chose you. Trust him, you’re the person he wants to be with more than anything. 

Gortash:

Actually kind of prefers lovers who don’t talk back, lol. He’s a very insecure man when it comes to his character. He’s cunning and wise, but clawed his way out of hell (quite literally) and the self-critical voice in his head never silences. So he’s oddly comforted that you can’t demean his temperament. 

He won’t try to fix it, nor will he allow you to try and change it in any sort of way. He doesn’t want you to go babbling on about his plans or how he is behind closed doors. That information cannot be getting out. So no, you will not be allowed any magic or spells to help you communicate. 

He will open up to you on occasion in private. The longer you’re together, the more safe he feels like confiding in you. If you feign sympathy, or if you are in fact sympathetic to his backstory, he’ll feel something akin to love for you. It’s not quite love. It’s much more logical, more calculating and pragmatic than that. But it’s about as close as you’d get with him. 

Likes how you have little to no choice other than to stay at his side and listen to him intently. He loves watching all your little apprehensive reactions when beckons you closer and pulls you into his lap. How your pulse races, how your breath quickens, he knows how his proximity makes you feel, even if you can’t open your mouth to speak the words. Besides, he’s very sure your mouth will be good for, let’s just say, other things. 

He will allow you to write him little notes here and there, but only in his office, and only when no one else is around. He’s rather paranoid that way. But he’s also rather pleased how it means you must keep seeking him out during his working hours. He’s under no false impression that he's the kindest lover. But you can’t leave him. You need him. He’s the only one who’s allowed to understand you. And he intends to keep it that way. 

Raphael: 

Like Gortash, Raphael feels a sort of sick satisfaction over the fact you can’t talk back to him. But then on the other hand, he feels a sort of sick disappointment that he can’t torture you into making all those sweet pathetic noises for him. So it’s 50/50 with him. 

He will consider giving you a voice via deviant magic if it means he can hear you beg. It drives him absolutely wild, and he refuses to go completely without it. Takes said voice away if you venture too far into brat territory, or you directly insult him. It’s a privilege for you to even look upon him, how dare you use the gift he gave you against him?

Has Harleep babysit you when he isn’t there. You can’t exactly call for help, and Raphael’s house isn’t safe for you to be wandering about unsupervised. 

Enjoys the look of pure frustration on your face when you try learning to write in Infernal, only to fail miserably. He thinks you’re adorable all revved up. He will read the notes you write in Common, he just doesn’t always respond to them. Despite his refusal to acknowledge most of them, you can tell he understands them, based on how large that vein on his forehead gets lol.

He will let you choose whether or not to have a voice during certain moments of pleasure; well, mostly pleasure. He loves the little gasps and moans you make, it fuels his lust for you even more. Then again, he doesn’t need to hear the sweet cries of your pretty voice to know whether he’s on the right track. ‘I can sense your heartbeat, little mouse,’ he'll whisper to you. Your body reveals to Raphael all there is to know, whether you want it to or not. 

The Emperor: 

It literally doesn’t matter. Dude’s telepathic lol. 

Wishes you’d become an illithid so you’d be telepathic too. Almost doesn’t take no for an answer on that one. 

Ultimately ends up relishing in the fact he alone can understand you- your wants, your needs, your dreams, and hopes. It makes him feel all the more powerful. 

Will give you the play-by-play about the Nether Brain and the Chosen Three because he’s been dying to tell someone, and he knows you can’t go running in the streets telling everyone and ruining his hopes of manipulation. Mainly because you don’t talk but also because he’s not letting you leave his realm lol, no way in hell. 

If you really don’t feel at home here, ‘You could always,’ he’ll suggest coyly, ‘Become one of us.’ You don’t even have to shake your head to tell him ‘no’. Your facial expression does all the talking for that one. 

[asspinkie]

tav, kicking their feet up on the table: hey so. have you watched that show i suggested yet. deal or no deal

raphael: how the fuck do you keep getting into my house

[red-dead-sakharine]

Raphael, contemplating his mistakes, after you left the dinner date with him, because he pretended you were nothing but a pawn to him.

(Even though it's of course not true, and he just doesn't want to admit how much he likes you).

[reverieblondie]

Could I request headcanons for Raphael, and Zevlor with shy gn s/o?

Of course! We can't forget those two! Hope you like it, it did these ones pretty quickly. Last bullet point is NSFW.

BG3 Men with shy gn s/o part 1

Raphael

When his eyes first saw you he couldn’t help but smirk, taking advantage of such a timid little mouse, it was just so easy… However, Raphael was pleasantly surprised when despite your shy demeanor you were surprisingly strong-willed. He always enjoyed a chase… Though you were a person of few words, you enjoyed his poetic ones. You could listen to him for hours practicing his veiled words and he would gladly perform for you. Who wouldn’t love being admired, even by a meek mouse? 

Raphael relishes in watching you squirm and blush. All he seems to have to do is a smile or say a teasing pet name towards you. Loves the way your body heats up and shudders as he tempts you with honeyed words. You know you want to be his, how well he would treat his favorite pet. One way you have found to turn the tables and make him the speechless one for a change is to take the poetic words he spoke to you and twist them towards him. He loves a quick wit and the sound of his twisted words from your shy lips. 

Careful, he claws and bites. If he’s got you where he wants his little mouse he will mark you at every opportunity. Hickies and bite marks litter your once pristine skin. Your back and sides are decorated with raised red lines from his long nails dragging over your body. You are his and he wants to make sure you and everyone else never forgets that. Once you're feeling bold enough you will try and persuade him to let you mark him. Normally he would refuse if anyone would suggest such a thing, but you are his favorite… He will smile at you as he slowly tilts his head to the side to expose his neck to you simply saying, “You can try, little mouse…” 

A date with Raphael is surprisingly tame, thank goodness for your meek heart. A simple game of lance board is what he would suggest for the evening in his House of Hope. Loves to watch you take your time accessing your next move, biting back his smile as you fall into the trap he set. When you lose he says the loser now has to give the winner something, Don’t worry this time it’s not your soul. Raphael has something a tad sweeter in mind. 

A slow tsk will leave him as you start to shyly bounce and grind on his lap. You instantly still when you feel him swat your ass. A low groan leaves him as your walls tense around his cock buried deeply within you. The winner decided he wanted his cock warmed while he reviewed some contracts. Be patient little mouse he will deal with you soon…

Zevlor

Being a person of a similar nature, you two would instantly have a connection. Nothing but a perfect gentleman when you first met him, thanking you for helping his people and the grove with a bow of his head and a shy smile to match your own. You two will just be drawn to each other, often finding that you two have wandered into proximity of one another, getting closer and closer as the days go on. Sure you two have your differences but you can just understand each other so deeply and can provide the other with what they need so perfectly. It's like the match between you two was destined by the gods. 

Zevlor would never intend to make you flustered on purpose but he seems to do it quite often by accident. The main cause of your red cheeks would be when you are telling him a story, rambling through your words as he listens to you intently. Then before you know it, his large hand is brushing strains of your hair away from your face. Before you know it every time your hair is slightly messy in his presence he is fixing it for you with a smile and a hum. To get him to glow red like you are currently, you will ask to run your fingers through his hair, he might just explode at your suggestion alone. As he pulls his tie from his hair he will lean towards you averting his eyes bashfully. 

Expect to get a fresh bouquet of wildflowers every morning when he comes back from patrol. Zevlor is a huge acts of service guy, if you need help with something, it doesn't matter how small he is more than willing to help. Need help changing the bed linens? He is right there on the other side helping pull them down. Does laundry need to be hung on the line? Allow him to do it for you. Low on firewood? He will spend the rest of the afternoon chopping wood for tonight's fire. Maybe he will take off his shirt for you to sneak a glimpse or two. 

You and Zevlor are not fans of busy or loud places so your dates are usually very quiet. However on some nights when you two have extra energy from the day you two will have an impromptu sparring match. Zevlor would teach you moves he learned from his time with the hellriders. If you're not well versed with a weapon he will come behind you and show you how to properly hold it. While you're wrapped around his warm arms you will have a moment of bravery and kiss his cheek. You will both be blushing by the end of the match. 

When you and Zevlor get intimate he always takes his time with you. Despite his shy nature, he has experience and he knows how important it is to make sure that your partner is prepped. His favorite way to prep you? Man has a full-on oral fixation, he is addicted to your taste and will spend as much time as he needs lapping his experienced tongue on you. Zevlor won't even think about putting in his straining length in you till you have cummed at least once, and if you must know…he always swallows. One should never be wasteful.

[unreadpoppy]

Raphael, reading the fan fiction he wrote about himself: i would never fucking say that

[sabersandsnipers]

Drabbles: First Kisses

Featuring Astarion, Halsin, Gale, Gortash, Raphael

Inspiration courtesy of @me-writes-prompts

Gortash

He’s quick to bind your hands. Something you knew was coming considering you were taken prisoner. Gortash wasn’t about to let a skilled warrior such as you be transported with your hands unbound.

His fingers work quickly to tie a knot in the rope holding your hands together. A fluttery feeling fills your stomach at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your hands.

He lowers your hands, tipping your chin up to look at him. “Try anything, and you won’t like the punishment.”

You can’t explain why, but your eyes travel to his lips. There’s something about him that draws you in, makes you wonder what he tastes like.

Before you can comprehend your movements, you step forward and kiss him.

His body tenses for a moment and you step away quickly to gauge his reaction. You can’t read him. He simply watches you.

Your breath leaves you. A part of you unbelieving you just did that. A burn blooms in your chest as you wait for him to react in a rage.

Then he stalks over to you, his long legs moving quickly. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you roughly.

You ache to touch him, but your bound hands stop you. So you simply roll your hips into his so you can feel him as much as possible. He growls into your lips at your movements.

His hands fall to your ass. He grips you roughly as you continue to move your hips against him. Your heart is pounding. Your mind is unable to comprehend that you’re making out with Enver Gortash.

Astarion

Astarion has offered to help you practice your kissing technique. At first you were slightly offended that he even thinks you need practice, but after some contemplation, you realize it’s been a while. And you were hoping to find some company at a tavern tonight as well.

Which is how you find yourself sitting across from him. You both sit cross legged, as if you’re a couple teenagers about to play a dirty game. Tension laces your body. This isn’t exactly a comforting situation.

“Just try to focus on what I’m doing,” he instructs.

You nod, watching his lips as he tilts his head to kiss you. You nearly gasp as his skin meets yours. His lips are deliciously cold, and you have to restrain yourself from leaning into him. He’s the one taking the lead here.

His tongue runs along your bottom lip. You part your lips to grant him access. The smallest of whimpers escapes you as his practiced tongue glides against yours.

Your hands move on their own as they try to snake through his hair. His hands are quick to restrain you.

“No touching,” he says before resuming his work.

You feel lightheaded by the time he pulls away. He looks at you with a smug look on his face, clearly knowing the effect he has on you.

“Your turn,” he tells you. By the twinkle in his eyes, you can tell he can’t wait to taste you again.

Gale

The necklace Gale hands to you is gorgeous. The gem sitting on the chain glitters in such a way that it almost takes your breath away. No doubt he added some magical effect to it to make it that much more special.

“Gale, this is too much,” you tell him. You’ve had a crush on him since he joined your adventure, and things like this aren’t helping the growing affection you feel for him.

“The necklace would be going to waste if it was on anyone else,” he replies. “I want you to have it.”

You press it against your chest and grin at him. “I love it.”

The way he looks at you makes your heart flutter. “Let me put it on for you.”

He takes the necklace and you sweep your hair up so he can secure the clasp at the back of your neck. His fingers brush against your skin, causing a slight shiver to rush through you.

When he’s finished, you turn to kiss him on the cheek. But then he turns his head, and your lips meet.

A small gasp leaves you, and you step away. “Sorry about that, I just wanted to thank you for such a beautiful gift.” Your face suddenly feels unbelievably hot.

He moves closer. He tilts your chin up. You meet his gaze, butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“So thank me.”

He’s inviting you in. Your eyes fall to his lips. You admire the shape of them for a moment before leaning in to kiss him.

Lightning ignites in your belly when your lips meet his. Your body nearly jolts at the sensational feeling. His hands fall to your waist. His fingers press into you ever so slightly.

His tongue is certainly practiced. You nearly feel dizzy at the pleasure he’s able to ignite in you just from a kiss. But he holds you steady, and you’re grateful, because your knees feel like they could buckle at any moment.

Of course, Astarion is the one to ruin your moment.

“Please kill me now,” you hear his voice behind you. You both whip your head to the source, cheeks flushed.

“If I have to watch you two doing that from now on, I’m flinging myself off a cliff.”

Halsin

You never should’ve let Karlach pick for game night. But here you all are, sitting around the campfire playing truth or dare. Your mind is slightly fuzzy due to the wine you’ve been drinking, and the laughter that’s been bubbling in you for most of the night.

“Truth or dare?” Karlach asks when it’s your turn.

You're quick to pick dare. The alcohol in your system challenges you to do something dumb.

Karlach answers as if she’s been waiting all night for this. “I dare you to kiss Halsin.” She grins proudly.

A small twinge of anxiety pokes at you through your fuzzy haze. Your eyes flicker to Halsin, expecting him to look offended or hurt. But his expression is an open one, a light smile even graces his lips.

You shrug. “Alright.”

You make your way over to Halsin. Grateful for the drinks you’ve had, you sit on one of his thighs. You feel his hand slide up your back, earning tingles at the back of your neck.

You lean forward and carefully press your lips against his, as if testing if he’s okay with it. Then he leans into you, and you know you have permission to fall into him even more.

The gang hoots around the campfire, egging you on. You laugh against his lips. Part of you wishes you were in private so you could kiss other parts of him as well. Those large hands of his hold you so carefully. You want to feel them on your hips, your thighs, everywhere.

Karlach groans. “Okay enough. Before I get sick.”

Raphael

This was wrong. You knew that. Raphael is a devil. He just wants to manipulate you. Trick you into getting what he wants.

And now, as he corners you and presses himself against you, you know he’s playing your body. Using your reactions to weaken you and your state of mind. But his firm body continues to send waves of pleasure straight through you.

“What’s wrong, little mouse?” He asks, smirking. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Cat got your tongue?”

He angles his face close to yours, eyes intense and alight with desire. A small voice in your head tells you to push him away. But it’s hard to listen when he looks so sinful.

His lips are on yours. You instinctively grind against him, cheeks flushing at how quickly your body gives in. Flames lick at your skin. His hands roam your body as if he’s memorizing every dip and curve.

When his claws trace your bare skin, you gasp. His body tightens at the noises you make. You should stop this. You should push him away.

But every roll of his hips, every caress of his fingers, and you can’t help yourself from falling deeper into his haze.