#fem!wyll

[loonyoz]

See my problem with wanting to draw masc characters I love is that I spend more time drawing fem characters and thus am frustrated by my lack of practice. Some might say the solution is more practice I say the solution is sketching fem!wyll

[victoria-grimesss]

Can I request smut headcanons of how Astarion (she didn't want him to feel obligated to help her so she intended to do it alone), Gale, Wyll, and Halsin react to accidentally overhear his fem s/o masturbating while saying his name? She isn't aware that he was there since he was busy earlier!

masterlist

->Warning: light smut, teasing

->A/N: MDNI! so sorry this took so long writers block hit me hard but I hope this fills the request alright.

->Astarion:

Your relationship was built on mutual trust and care for one another. Although it may have started with ill intentions you both have nurtured and built a steady foundation for years to come. Part of that trust was respecting Astarion's bodily autonomy and helping him work through his trauma. You wanted to give him space and time to be comfortable in the bedroom, well... tent. The air was thick and you had woken up with a familiar flutter in your chest. A problem easily solved on your own but not sufficiently eased. The tossing and turning, you feared, would wake Astarion (he needs his beauty sleep). Your hand would move downwards, your other moving to your mouth to keep yourself quiet. But the scent of him surrounding you, him next to you and you wearing his shirt was too much. You could hardly stifle the sounds that came from your mouth, your mind replaying every lingering touch of his, his teeth on your neck, and the words he whispers when you're both alone. His name escapes your lips only once when you are trying to reach your peak but your hands are just not enough. Astarion’s meditative sleep is disrupted by your ceaseless movement, and he wakes with annoyance before he sees the state of you, utterly delicious. It's not a secret what you were doing, your face red from the tips of your ears down your neck and slipping down the valley of his shirt you wore. His teasing would be relentless, "I'm hurt, have I truly not satisfied you enough that you had to result to such a solitary method?" His voice is deeper from the sleep he was in, hair hanging in his face. He would feign hurt but that devious smirk on his face would say otherwise. "I just didn't want to bother you, make you feel obligated to engage." The air in the tent would be hot, he would get closer and closer to you until his lips brushed your neck, he could hear how your heart was racing from the proximity. "Darling, I admire your chivalry, truly, but I’d rather be the one touching you if it’s all the same.” His hands would dance their way from cupping your cheek to leaning you back into the bedroll fully. You had awoken the next day blissfully satisfied, a bit more bloodless, and sleep deprived but it was well worth it. 

->Gale:

You would both be settled in his tower long after the events of the tadpole. The sun would be setting and he had arrived back from his favorite tomes shop, his arms full with scrolls and books galore. His mind was so focused on getting everything to his study until he passes by the bedroom door, the only sounds being the waves of the nearby sea and you.. saying his name in a rather breathily manner. He grows warm at the sound, some of the scrolls and books toppeling to the floor. This would usually be followed by him hurrying to pick them up but he sets the rest on a nearby foot-stool. He clears his throat before knocking on the bedroom door, even though it’s his own bedroom door as well. He hears a gasp from within the room and the movement of the blanket before you usher him in. “Gale. I-um. I didn't expect you back so soon. You’re usually gone the whole day when you head to the shops.” He nearly groans at the sight of you, you’re flushed and sweaty. Hair a mess and clearly you were enjoying yourself. He wishes he could cast invisibility and watch as you pleasured yourself. For another time. He shifts, a bead of sweat running down the back of his neck. “I-” “You” You both speak at the same time and then stop. He motions you to speak first. You giggle and speak, “You know, you don’t have to knock in your own home.” He runs a hand through his hair, eyes a shade darker as he looks to you. “I didn’t want to intrude on your personal time my love. It sounded like you were enjoying yourself. Although I have to admit I felt a bit left out.” His breathing is heavier and he slowly approaches you, the sunset that bounces off the sea and into the room casts an otherworldly glow and he wishes he were an artist so he could paint the vision in front of him. You offer him your hand, “Then by all means Mr. Dekarios, please join me.” 

->Wyll:

The camp was empty besides you, you had been put on strict bed rest after a nasty fight with some undead the last time you and the team were out so you were alone and bored and upset because you were obviously better despite Wyll’s protest. You swear a feather could grace the side of your face and he would carry you back to camp. Although you love him all the same, his caring nature and adventurous spirit bringing you together but right now you just felt pent up after being still for so long. The sound of the nearby river calmed you some but restless you remained. You thought more of Wyll, and more… His chivalry, endless loving words of encouragement, that one time you snuck away to the river..discarding your clothes on the rocks as you both delved behind the waterfall and soaked in the whole night together until the stars turned to sunrise. Suddenly your hand had snuck down the front of your stomach and lower until you reached underneath your undergarments, gasping at the feeling of relief. It was far and few between when you could help yourself since you were always out. You began divulging yourself further into your fantasies. Picturing you with Wyll together in a large castle, bedroom big enough to be laughable and a bed laid with satin sheets and intricate tapestry. Being able to enjoy eachothers company without the threat of death or tadpole explosion at every corner. He would ravish you on every piece of finely crafted furniture in the castle until you were forced to stop by pure muscle exertion. You were so deep in your mind you didn't hear your own name being called from the camp, nearing you rather fast. You quickly remove your hand, now frustrated on another level from your missed climax just as the flaps of the tent move and Wyll’s stare is on you, a worried look on his face. “You called?! Are you alright? Gods you’re flushed and can hardly catch your breath should I call Shadowheart?” He’s frantic and has convinced himself that you’re in the active stages of death. “Wyll!” He stills at your voice, “I was simply, taking care of myself..” You trail away and his face shifts from concern to confusion. “Healing your own wounds is hardly advisable. We have many fine healers in camp. Let me fetch one of them for you.” “Gods you are dense sometimes for being the savior of Baulder’s Gate.” You grab him by the shirt before he can leave and his lips meet yours before he’s crawling on top of you. “Ohh, you sneaky devil.” His smirk is downright devious as he swears to untangle all your knots and worries.

->Halsin:

You need air, the camp was downright suffocating now with the amount of people it contained now. You were forever grateful and indebted for all of your allies but you needed some time alone, desperately. The clearing to this meadow was the place you always came to clear your mind, far enough away to be secluded but still close enough to be safe from any wanderers. Halsin had been occupied when you left so you couldn't ask him to come with you to your disappointment. But alas you can handle your little problem. It was a warm day and seeing Halsin’s strong arms glisten with sweat and water did little to cool your burning desire that seemed to get worse as the day went on. He was so kind and sweet to you, showing you the bounty that nature can provide. He had fought by your side for some time now and your relationship had only blossomed since then. You felt your tension slowly melting as you caressed yourself thinking of the two of you in the meadow together, against a tree, the forest floor in the rain. Any way he could take you, you would have him. You didn't even notice the volume of your voice had carried all the way to his ears at the camp, he was especially attuned to you, your sweet pheromone carried him to the clearing where he saw you laid back against a bed of clovers, surrounded by an array of multicolored flowers. A goddess in his eyes you were. He stalked to you, drinking you in with each step. The sound of his name on your lips drawing him in, his urges barely contained. He cleared his throat, finding himself standing at your feet. Your eyes shot open, trying to cover yourself and maintain your modesty. “Do not fear my heart, you have called and here I am.” You don’t say anything for a moment, utterly embarrassed at being caught in such a way. “Halsin, I didn't want to bother you, you were quite busy after all.” He laughs lightly, still scanning your body. “You are my priority, when you yearn for me, I yearn for you all the same. All you must do is cast me a glace and I will take care of you.” He starts to remove his shirt, “May I take care of you?” His voice is deep, his broad frame casting a cooling shadow upon you. You shiver, he stiffens. “You may. Only if I may show my gratitude back?” He smiles and drops to his knees before you, hands parting your legs as his kisses more from your bent knee and moves lower and lower. “By all means my heart, the day is young afterall.”  

[fabric-shower-curtain]

By complete accident I somehow have the autopsy scar mod on top of the bhaalist tattoo mod, don’t ask me how they’re both on my durge I have no idea how it happened. But it got me thinking how would the origin characters (+halsin) react/barely react to a lover that is heavily scarred and tattooed? (Set in Act 1)

Read more for the full brainrot

Astarion: The first time Astarion saw your body for himself was when he walked past your tent late at night, through the flaps in the entrance he saw all those scars, he couldn’t tell what had you awake this late in the night, especially mostly naked with your back turned. The vampire simply continued on his way to hunt for the night. He dropped it there, until that is, the second night in the clearing you two spent together. He was lying down leaning his head against his arms as his red eyes stared at your naked body. His eyes flowed down every scar that littered your body, he barely seemed to look at the tattoos but that’s what he asked about first “So, can you translate that one?” - he points to the tattoo across your left arm, lifting up the limb you pull your skin to take a proper look at it. It’s been a while since you properly saw it, because just out of sight enough to make it annoying to stare at. When you tell him Astarion seems content with the information. His fingers drift across the tattoo. It’s a tender moment until the elf’s hand floats toward your neck. His ice cold fingers dancing across the lingering puncture wounds on your neck - “But these are by far my favorite mark on you,” You lean into Astarion’s touch releasing a chuckling sigh before calling him the weirdest flirt you have ever seen.

Gale: He really didn’t mean to go to the river at the same time he truly meant to go two hours early when he said he would, but that tome was particularly interesting - the effects of adrenaline on libido, certainly important for a man so restricted by his netherese orb. But now it was two hours past and he definitely had a musk going on. Taking an extra robe and rag Gale went to the nearby river, only you were there too. Illuminated in moonlight you were bare in front of him. Gale cleared his throat loudly, trying to let you know he was there. What he did not expect was for you to whip around and get out of the water to say hello. He tried his best to only look at your face, he did not succeed. Your skin was glowing with a vei of water cascading down in droplets. Gale’s eyes followed one droplet from your hair, down your neck, across your chest until a certain tattoo caught his eye, infernal script. Trying to keep his focus on the tattoo rather than the flesh its on he asked you if it meant what he thought it did. He was right in fact, and you told him the story behind why you got it, quite the nice tale. The wizard relaxed enough to notice another scar across your soldier “Is that from a magic missile?” He asked without thinking. Nodding in confirmation you turned to show your shoulder blade where the other two missiles struck. As you turned around the coldness of the night hit you like a thunder wave, a massive shiver shook your entire body spraying tiny water droplets around. “Gosh you must be freezing,” - Gale wrapped you in his towel-rag before stressfully ushering you back towards the camp. Once you got back to your tent you realized you left your towel and clothes on a nearby rock, you could return the peeping Tom favor.

Halsin: Halsin adores you long before he ever saw your birthday suit, sure he thought about it, quite a lot, but with his focus deep on the shadow-curse he doesn’t have time to do much other than think about out. But the first time he does see you was far from romantic or sensual. A hook horror had slashed your entire back open when you got to close, and Halsin watched it all happen. Before the beast even hit the ground he was rushing over to you, he didn’t think, he just ripped your armor right off of you to get to the wound. You might have been screaming but his ears were ringing too loud to tell one noise from another. Halsin couldn’t even see where scar ended and fresh cut began, your tattoos were doused in enough blood to make them impossible to see against your skin. The bear of an elf’s hand floated above the wound with the same glowing blue light the hook horror’s body was basking in, thank silvanus he was far enough from the sussur tree for his magic to work. Even with his healing a scar in the same place as the monster's claw marks stayed. Halsin’s druidic skills must be faltering, that’s what he determines at least. Until the next day, you’re healed fully up and about getting ready to leave camp for the day. Halsin calls out your name - “I’m sorry I could not heal you fully, I tried best I could but the scar persists” to his confusion you begin laughing. The scar he’s so upset about has been on you for so long now, and you tell him such. His healing left no scar, in fact he healed you so well an old scar was able to show.

Karlach: The first time she saw you naked you were bathing next to each other after a battle. Even with Dammon’s initial upgrade you can’t touch each other, but you swore to find ways to be intimate without touching, just like this. However you neglected to inform her about what lay under your clothes until now, scars covering you head to toe interlaced with tattoos of varying quality. “Hey Soldier! How come you didn’t tell me before stealing my aesthetic!” You didn’t even register this was the first time exposing yourself in such a way, a brief moment of panic before you burst into a smile. “Come here, let me see them” Karlach makes you twirl around, using the faintest touch of her fingers to pull your arms out and see the tattoos wrapping around them. Her eyes continued to trail down your body, after a gasp she jumped back up to your face - “That burn scar looks like mine!” She said before pulling down her trousers to show you the near identically placed scar on her thigh. But Karlach didn’t ask about the obviously fresher stab scars, she continued to smile at her new discovery but lets the two of you properly bathe for once.

Lae’zel: Even when pinning you against a wall the githyanki warrior wasn’t particularly gentle. It’s not like you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into tonight, she had said pretty explicitly she seemed carnal pleasure. Somehow Lae’zel was even more assertive in such a scenario than during your adventures. You couldn’t even take your own armor off, she practically ripped it off of you. Your body is exposed to her in an instant, she doesn’t react, her hands go immediately to unlace your trousers and undergarments. The night is enjoyable even as exhausting as it was. Only much later does Lae’zel ever comment on them, and its in a conversation praising you two’s battle prowess “Each scar is a battle fought, a battle won.” You try not to tell her you have at least two scars from dropping the knife while cooking with Gale. She’s sweet in her own way.

Shadowheart: Shadowheart first saw you naked while healing a particularly cruel wound, goblin had snuck up on you and slashed your torso deep. You stabilized yourself quick enough with a healing potion but the wound persisted. After the battle you wandered your way over to Shadowhearts tent, asking for help. She laid you down atop her bedroll, sliding your shirt off as you let yourself relax into the makeshift bed. And then you caught it, Shadowheart’s eyes widened, shit. But she didn’t say anything; she pressed her warm hands towards your open wound as they lit alight with magic. Radiating from your gash the warm feeling washed over you, your eyes closed softly breathing out in relief. Shadowheart quelled her magic, looking over you for a fat moment. You can feel her eyes wandering over you, up and down your chest, down your stomach and across both your arms. The relief of healing has left you now but you’re still too scared to open your eyes. And then a soft hand traced along your largest scar, her fingers were so light it tickled. “I like your tattoos.” The half-elf’s voice was soft, her eyes focused back on your large scar, “How’d you get that one.” Whether or not you tell the story she’s content, happy to have this extra piece of you in her memory.

Wyll: Poor Wyll just wanted to ask about the plans for tomorrow, but not only did he smack his horns on the skeleton of your tent while entering but you’re also as naked as the day you were born. The man nearly shrieked like he saw a ghost, his entire chest swelled up with his shoulders shooting up and he looked like he just swallowed a frog. Without a word Wyll turned on his heel and left your tent, only after trying to cool his blushing face off did he even process all your markings. Upon the log he sat on he dragged his hand up and down his face trying to process what the hells just happened. And then you exited your tent, completely decent this time. You greeted Wyll and sat beside him wondering what he had barged in about in the first place. But the poor man can’t even look at you. He as calmly as he could gave you the sincerest apology you’ve ever heard. After your acceptance he finally turns to you “So what does that tattoo across your back mean?” You pause for a moment, then explain as best you can. And that conversation continues just like that, he’d ask how you got a certain scar or tattoo and you’d answer him. In return he showed you one particularly nasty scar on his arm from a monster he fought while traversing the sword coast. What may have started as the most embarrassing moment of your partnership ended with you closer than before.

[primal-savagery]

baldur's gate oc's: Elkas Kenduis, Roshan, Niabi Dyre, Velvela Dyre

They're killing me. They're all killing me. It's too sweet. My teeth are rotting out of my mouth. Elkas put your nipple away.

[im-okay-mj]

I still haven’t gotten Karlach, I’m sorry 😭 I only just figured out how to get Halsin

[leighsartworks216]

A Decent Man

Wyll x AFAB!Tav/Reader (can be read as platonic)

Wyll deserves a longer fic but my brain is mush rn

No body descriptions so it can be read by anybody who suffers from periods, but I have pulled from my own experiences and made it Very Heavy. I also think this could be read as platonic. There's nothing really pointing toward romance, and the kiss on the cheek can totally be platonic (as well as cuddling) so yeah take it as you will

Warnings: blood, menstruation, anxiety, embarrassment

Word Count: 937

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The night had been so perfect. Wyll had accepted you into his tent when the weather turned sour. He opened up his bedroll to you when you were shivering. All night you slept wrapped in his arms, safe, protected and warm. The Absolute was far from your mind. Tadpoles did not seem to exist in the temporary bliss that encapsulated you both.

And then you woke up, and you just knew it was too damn good to be true.

The first thing you were aware of was the strong pair of arms holding you close. One draped over your side, the other cradling your head in the crook of his elbow. Next, the scent of campfire smoke and the oil he used on his braids. And then, the discomfort between your legs. Warm and slick and terrible.

Panic rushed your heart, adrenaline stealing the sleepy haze from your mind. When in the night had your period began? Early enough to have you bleeding through Wyll’s bedroll? Or late enough you would be lucky if it didn’t stain your pants? There was no way of telling, but the awful guilt flooded your chest all the same.

You risk a glance at Wyll’s face. It’s the most relaxed you think he’s ever been in all the time you’ve known him. Always he carried his burdens in the lines of his face, the furrow of his brow, behind sweet smiles and his dashing Blade persona. Your heart hurt at the thought of waking him and stealing that peace.

As slow and careful as you could, you slipped his arm from around your waist. He shifted slightly, and you waited. But after a moment he still did not wake. You continue your escape. Cold air hits your body like an arctic wind as you pull back the corner of the thin blanket. You lift yourself from his arm that acted as your pillow, sitting up. You cringe as a tightness clutches at your belly, and the wet feeling of blood spilling out. There is no doubt in your mind now: you’ve bled all the way through.

Tears of frustration prick at your eyes. Wyll was kind enough to provide you shelter and comfort, and your body decided now would be the most perfect time for a practical joke against you. If you had the wherewithal to remember to track your cycle with everything else horrid going on, perhaps you could have avoided this. Or maybe your body would have brought on your period sooner, just to catch you off guard.

The quiet sound of your name, drowsy and confused, seals the deal on this being one of the worst days of the entire quest so far, everything else be damned. You wanted to drown in your embarrassment, suffocate on your misfortune. Anything to ignore the shift of the blanket as Wyll sits up beside you, frowning as he tries to meet your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, as though one wrong misstep and you’d shatter. His own mind races with thoughts of nightmares, or even the mysterious Dream Guardian that often came to visit.

The last of your dignity shrivels and dies as you adamantly avoid looking at him, glaring instead at the floor by your shoes. It is harder to tell him what’s happened than it is to drown yourself in the Chionthar river, and far less pleasant. The words grit at you. They feel like jagged steel as they come up your throat to be voiced aloud.

“I… I started my cycle last night.” You sigh, fighting the flurry of hormone-driven emotions as you bury your face in your hands. “I think I’ve bled through your bedroll, Wyll, I’m so so sorry.”

If it was Shadowheart or Karlach, you’d be far less embarrassed and far less upset. Hells, even Lae’zel, and you weren’t even sure she had a blood cycle like this.

You start to assure him you’ll wash it out, that he can have yours if he feels uncomfortable sleeping on his own again - anything to make this right. But before you can even get the words out, he’s rubbing your back.

“Hey, it’s alright. Why don’t you go wash and get changed. I can deal with this.”

You pull your face from your hands to blink at him. He smiles when he finally meets your eyes, sweet and reassuring. “Are you sure?” you ask. “I’m sorry, but you just have a tendency to do things people ask even when it makes you uncomfortable.”

He laughs. “As much as I hate to admit how true that is, a little bit of blood won’t be pushing me out of my comfort zone.”

You’re almost certain you really will start crying as you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tight. He’s careful to avoid knocking you with his horns, but wraps his arm around your upper back to hold you close. You kiss his cheek and thank him.

“For doing what any decent man worth his salt should do?” he asks, though despite the teasing in his voice, he can hear the utter relief in yours. He truly never considered before that something so small would mean so much, something he truly considered the absolute bare minimum. It only encouraged him to do more, if only to ease the burden of years of suffering through this alone put on you.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, Wyll Ravengard, but there is a great lack of decent men.”

“Then I pride myself on being one of the last of this dying breed.”

---

Tag List:

@anonymously-ominous

[verawhisk]

treating my tav to his own cute boy harem is all i can do really

[saintbarou]

BG3 MALE SLUTS AS HOZIER LYRICS

wyll:

astarion:

halsin:

gale:

[unreadpoppy]

down by the river - Chapter 13

Raphael x Warlock!Tav

Read on AO3

chapter 12

Chapter summary:

In which Wyll and Tav have a heart to heart and another part of Tav and Raphael's past is revealed.

Tav was sitting on the pier, her feet dangling above the water. It was late at night, and there were no fishermen to bother her as she looked at her reflection. 

The face she wore was not the one she was born with. It was thanks to fiendish magic that every hundred years or so, she was able to change. A new appearance, a new name, a new identity. Before Tav, there had been Dahlia, the half-drow and Solana, the high elf. But before all of them, there was the human girl whose only wish was to spread her music around the world. 

As Tav looked in the water, for a moment, she saw that girl. The one filled with hope and love, and whose name she hadn’t spoken in centuries. Sometimes, she feared she’d forgotten, but deep down, Tav knew she couldn’t. 

“Magda.” She said quietly to herself. The name her mother had whispered into the world when she was born. The name her friends had called her. The name burned into Raphael’s contracts and the name she hadn’t heard in over four centuries. “Magda.” She spoke again. It felt both foreign and familiar on her tongue, like an old tune one could barely remember the lyrics. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, Tav noticed she was not alone. 

“You can be really hard to track down, you know.” Wyll said, sitting next to her. When she turned to look at him, he frowned. “Why are you crying?” 

Tav touched her cheek, only now realizing how wet they were. “I hadn’t even noticed.” Wiping them, she took a deep breath and then said, looking at him “I was a fool, Wyll, and you were right.” 

“About what?” He asked, confused. 

“Everything.” Tav looked ahead “I thought I could trust him and he had been scheming behind my back this whole time. You told me to be careful and I didn’t listen, now look at the mess I’ve made.” 

“Tav, what are you talking about?” There was concern in his voice. 

“Raphael.” She said, coldly. “He lied to me, lied about everything.” 

And then, Tav told him all that transpired. Told him Gale and the Crown, about Sharess Caress and Raphael’s deal, and how he had planned for this all to happen, and how she signed the contract, but she did not stop there.

Tav told Wyll everything, from her early days to being kidnapped and how Raphael saved her, and her servitude to him and the various lives she had lived. Wyll stayed silent, paying attention to every word she said, as Tav poured all of her thoughts out. It was only after she was done that he asked “Maybe there could be a way for us to break your contract? There’s always a loophole” 

“Not in this one.” She shook her head. “Much like you, I cannot raise a hand against my patron without suffering consequences.”

“Do you know what they are?”

Tav sighed. “When I gave my soul to him, it was as if the clock stopped working for me. Even as I change faces, I do not age. Were I to hurt Raphael and break our contract, the clock would begin working again, making up for all lost time.” She took a deep breath. “And seeing as I was born human, I would die in an instant and my bones would become ash like this” Tav snapped her fingers.

“There must be some way-”

“Even if there was…I do not plan on breaking this contract.” Tav shook her head. “I told you, I’m a fool. I let this devil hurt me and I still can’t bring myself to defy him.” 

The two warlocks stayed in silence for a moment. 

And then, Wyll said “I don’t blame you.” Looking at her, he continued. “You may think yourself foolish, but I think you were just doing your best to survive, and there is nothing foolish in that.” He looked at her. “Did I ever tell you how Mizora became my patron?”

“No.” 

“Very well.” It was Wyll’s turn to take a deep breath. “I was 17 years old and my father had left for Elturel, to settle a dispute. In my sleep, I heard a voice telling me to go to Dusthawk Hill alone. When I arrived, I saw dragon cultists trying to summon Tiamat. I was desperate and with no chance of stopping them” He sighed. “That’s when Mizora approached me, offering me the power to destroy the cult and save the city in exchange for my soul. I agreed in a heartbeat.” 

Tav looked at him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it in support. Wyll then continued. 

“We wiped the cultists, and I lost my eye in battle. When my father came back, however, all signs of it were gone, and all he could see was a smirking devil behind his son.” Tav wiped a stray tear that fell from his good eye. “The contract forbade me from telling him the truth and so, I was cast out from the very city I sold my soul to save. That day, I became the Blade of Frontiers.” 

“You were just a boy.” She whispered and he nodded. “You didn’t deserve that. Do you regret it?” She asked, sincerely.

Wyll took a deep breath, straightening his back. “No. Never. I would sell my soul thrice over if it means keeping my city - and the world - safe.” He paused, “If it means keeping my father safe.” 

Tav nodded. When they arrived in the city, Mizora gave Wyll a choice: Renew their contract and save his father, or break it and risk letting Ulder die. And Wyll chose his father over his soul. 

She couldn’t help but think how selfish she had been. Wyll sold his soul to save his home, while she had sold hers for what? A new chance at life. She had done her master’s dirty work just to keep her mortality intact. Up until the tadpole, Tav had not even thought of using her powers to do good, only serving herself and Raphael. 

Maybe the two were not so unlike.

She shook her head. That was not the time for that. Instead, she placed a hand over Wyll’s. “We’ll save him. I promise.” 

“I know.” He stood up. “But for that to happen, we need to be well rested” He offered a hand to help. “Come, the others have been wondering where you’ve been.” 

“Are they not mad at me?” She grabbed his hand. 

“Oh, they are.” They both chuckled, as Tav stood up. “But when have you ever cared about their opinions of you?”

Tav smirked, and in a surprise gesture, hugged Wyll. It had been quick and awkward, but he smiled nonetheless and nodded. Then, the two headed off to the Elfsong Tavern. 

…

A hundred years before. 

Tav had arrived in the House of Hope late, after killing another target for Raphael. She swiped the blood from her blade, as she heard the sound of someone playing the piano. 

It had been a recent addition to Raphael’s home, one that came at Tav’s insistence. If he planned for her to keep using her musical talents in her missions, she argued, he might as well provide the means for her to learn new instruments. It took a long back and forth, but eventually, the devil relented, with the condition that Tav play for him. 

Now, following the noise, she found him sitting by the instrument, looking at a piece of paper placed where the sheet of music would be, a pair of small glasses on the tip of his nose. Occasionally, Raphael would murmur something, play a few keys and then scribble something on the paper. She saw him repeat that process three times before intervening. 

“You need to change the rhyme.” She said, making her way towards him. 

He didn’t look at her as he said “I was wondering when would you finally decide to say something.”  Of course he had known when she arrived. He fixed his glasses on his face before turning to her. “I see that you were successful.” 

Tav nodded. “Yes.” With her chin, she pointed towards the paper. “What is that?” 

“Curious as ever.” Raphael said, handing her the paper. “It is a contract I am crafting, in song format. I need to get the wording down correctly before making it happen.” 

As she looked over it, she asked “Why a song?” 

“Because paper can be torn and burn, words have little to no value in most instances but a song?” He chuckled “a song lingers. And for this debtor, I want this song to stick.” 

Tav sat down near him, looking at the paper. As she crossed words and wrote news ones, she asked “And who’s the unlucky one this time.” 

Raphael scowled. “Yurgir.” 

“The orthon?” He nodded “Why are you making a deal with him?” 

“That, my dear, is none of your concern.” Raphael looked over what she had written, as she finally placed it back where it was. “Now, show me what you’ve done.” 

She swallowed, feeling his burning eyes on her as she slowly played the a few tunes that she believed would match the song. 

‘Spill all the blood sworn to the night. Silence all prayers; smother each rite

Wander Shar's halls; hungry to slay; Leave no Justiciar alive to obey.

Leave none to hear it, then be set free; This song is your oath, swear, swear it to me.’ 

The two stayed silent for a moment. Tav gulped, afraid at the silence, until Raphael began slow clapping. “Well done.” She nodded, sighing in relief as he folded the paper and placed it inside his vest. “This will work brilliantly.” 

“I’m glad.” She began to stand up but Raphael stopped her. She raised a brow, confused. 

“I want to know if you made any progress on that other song. The one about the river.” 

“Oh…” Truth be told, Tav hadn’t thought about that song in ages. “I have been stuck, actually.” 

“What do you mean?” Raphael inched closer. “Having trouble?” She could feel his breath near her neck and she took a deep breath.  

“I, well…” She turned to look at him as he stared at her, intensely. “I haven’t found the right inspiration yet.” 

“Oh? And what had driven you to write the song to begin with?” 

Raphael was close, too close, she thought. The heat of his fiendish body emanated next to her, and as one of his wings circled around her, she suddenly felt trapped. 

With a deep breath, she answered. “It used to be about this boy in my village.” She turned to look at him. “One whom I liked, before…everything.” 

“So it is a love song.” 

She shrugged “One might say so.”

A moment of silence passed between the two before Raphael spoke again. “Are you in love with anyone, Tav?” 

“No.” She replied harshly. “Why the sudden interest?” 

“Curiosity, you could say.” Raphael shrugged. “You are my warlock, afterall. I should know all the ins and outs of your life.” 

She raised a brow “Including matters of the heart?” 

“Especially matters of the heart.” The look he gave her made Tav shiver. “Tell me: have you ever been kissed?” 

Tav could feel her heart beating faster with this line of questioning. She frowned while answering. “Once, a long time ago.” She gulped. “But not much since then.” 

She felt the tip of his tail begin coiling around one of her legs as he invaded her personal space. 

“Indulge me in this final question.” He said, voice low. “Would you like to be kissed?” 

Tav felt the blood rush to her head, as she blinked at him. Had he really just said that? Was this a dream? Should she trust this was truly Raphael and not Haarlep playing tricks? 

Regardless, and despite her best judgment, she said “Yes.” 

Like a predator waiting to jump at its prey, Raphael took his time, slowly inching his face closer, before grabbing her cheeks between his thumb and index finger and kissing her. 

At first, his lips on hers felt like fire, his tongue, poison. But, as the kiss deepened, it tasted like a sweet, addictive honey that Tav wanted more of. 

But just when she began to truly enjoy the moment, it was done. Raphael was no longer touching her as he stood up. Fixing his doublet, he said “I believe that is enough inspiration.” 

He began to make his way towards the door, as Tav’s fingers touched her lips, wondering if that had truly happened. 

Before he left, Raphael said “I want the song done by the next tenday.”

[sorcerous-caress]

a wyll with a beefy, brutish, pushy bitch of an oath-breaker paladin girlfriend 🥺 HELP

That's what I'm fucking talking about anon. Wyll has the perfect setup romance to end up with someone he wants to treat like a prince/princess. So imagine him ending up with the most scruffy and battle worn-out women.

Your arms are hardned from carrying a great sword or a gaint shield everywhere, faded scars and a combat trained body. You've seen more fights than Wyll ever has, and she doesn't take bullshit from anyone, completely jaded to the world.

Intimidating people, putting them in their place and being outrude rude came second nature to you, you didn't care niceties or manners, you were hardned around the edges.

And you sees Wyll, a fresh new hero with stars in his eyes and a bounce to his step, the adorable thing carries a single blade despite being a spellcaster. He is still a green soldier in her eyes no matter how many fights he has won.

You makes the first move, and it endearing how coy he is. How only a kiss was all he could offer during the celebration when half your companions were ready to climb you like a tree.

He's like a breath of fresh air, especially with how dim life has become after you devowed your oath, after you saw just how cold and cruel the gods can be, after they forsake you.

You successfully implae a spear through Mizora the first time she comes around, you're quicker than she is. In a panic she teleports back to the hells to heal, Wyll is both stunned and speechless.

Demon, angel, god, it didn't matter to you who was after him. You're strong, you're capable, you will protect his spark of hope for humanity if it was the last thing you'll ever do.

You'll indulge his song and dance, take the lead, and make him wrap his arms around your neck, hold his waist, and spin him around.

[venusmages]

i still do really love bg3 but i am sad that larian continued their streak of 'act 3 being the worst part of the game'. still phenomenal but act 3 (especially playing durge) is a little flat feeling. and while the companions all individually are fantastic i'm still sad that karlach and ESPECIALLY wyll did not get their flowers as they should, and honestly durge didn't either. And the companions in general don't feel as interesting dynamics wise with each other as compared to, say, dragon age.

but i do really like bg3 a lot and i'll probably come back to it eventually and. write a lot of 'fix it' fic for act 3 tbh

[thedevilinherself]

Not me making ANOTHER Tav cause I found another NPC I want to ship her with, and have to give them their own unique partner.

[perilegs]

ignore the baldness, but, uh, how do we feel about the lace underwear poking out from wyll's pants. to. emulate the red details of his camp outfit of course

[sukunasstarlight]

fem!wyll I’m having such thoughts about you

[primal-savagery]

Finished my big save a couple days ago now and broke my heart having someone else become a Mind Flayer besides Orpheus. I'm still ironing out Elkas and Roshan's backstories, but I do know that Roshan likely wasn't a good person before she met the rest of the party and decided that this would be a fitting ending for herself...Though I feel terrible for Halsin having to witness it.

Also going to have to stick with my original headcanon that Niabi runs off to the Hells with Karlach and Wyll, because SOMEHOW Vel ended up with more Karlach approval than she did. And as a result, Niabi got left behind.

THEN TAKE NIABI WITH YOU. SHE'S READY. SHE HAS THE NECKLACE THAT SETS HER CON TO 23. SHE'LL BE FINE. YOU LITERALLY PROPOSED TO HER MY MAN.

Obligatory Vel getting ready to beat some ass posting, but I was thrilled to finally get the updated epilogue bedroom chat between her and Astarion because somehow them holding hands gets me worse than anything else. I was also thrilled at the conclusion of the conversation she had with Minthara in the end. They never really got close; definitely an alliance of convenience more than anything. But part of me likes to believe that Vel sticking to her guns so hard throughout the whole ordeal, maintaining that she would never be tempted by power, and then following through with that in the end earned her a strange sort of respect in Minthara's eyes. Vel knows what she's about, and it isn't whatever Minthara's about.

Made sure that she also hugged Halsin. Figured he needed it.

Also WHY can't Elkas run off to the Astral with Lae'zel if Orpheus is alive? He geared up to fight Vlaakith! He was ready to go! This was his new calling! But...Perhaps dealing with Vlaakith's holdouts on the Sword Coast is a worthy cause too. And they are indeed raising Xan together which is the one outcome I was chomping at the bit for. Absolutely in love with how in love Elkas is with her. This man is hopeless.

[invaderzia1]

I love wyll so much, but if you draw fem!Wyll I owe you my life