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hijackalx · 1 month

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Headcanon thingy, but who would the boys (Gale, Astarion, Wyll, and Gortash) react to seeing their lover trying on lingerie?

felt like testing my drabble skills so i added a lil something extra to them 😎💗 enjoy pookie!!

GN!reader

SLIGHT NSFW BELOW

GALE

likes when you surprise him with it. wear some under your clothes as a little treat for when he’s undressing you 😌✨

you look so good that it makes him trip over his words. he’s too busy ogling your body to pay attention to what he’s saying. will have him laughing like a nervous virgin 😹

LOVESSSSS garters. can’t keep his hands off of them. particularly loves the way your thighs strain beneath them when you’re on your knees

instantly wants to enchant the bottoms to make them vibrate and watch you get off like that (don’t ask if that’s actually possible my brain functions on horny not logic)

your outfit is inconspicuous, plain— perfect for covering up the lingerie hiding beneath. you wait patiently in his lap as he unwraps your silken robe, biting back a smirk.

he pauses to take in the sight of the lace hugging your skin, how it flows so delicately around your shape. he tuts, shooting you a familiar, frivolous grin. “feeling naughty tonight, are we?” just moments later, his hands move to rest on your bottoms, a seemingly harmless action that results in a soft buzz and a gasp. “i can work with that.”

ASTARION

insists on going with you to pick some out. follows you into every dressing room to “make sure it fits right” lol. so picky but mostly because he loves watching you try them on

his favorites are flowy/frilly types, like babydoll tops or satin robes. also LOVES stockings of any kind

makes you feel like an actual doll ✨🌸 repeatedly tells you how perfect you are and can’t keep his hands off you. will also try to get you flustered by whispering really dirty stuff about how you look into your ear

likes when you have fun with it and show off for him— be cheeky. do a little spin. bend over in front of him. be prepared for him to pinch or smack your ass though

he sits comfortably on the dressing room bench as you approach him. “how about this one?” you pull your bottom lip in playfully, placing your hands on his shoulders as he takes your body into his grasp.

“mm,” erupts from his throat, watching as his lithe fingers slip over and under the fabric sparsely covering your skin. “now, this one i like.” he places a slow and deliberate kiss to your exposed abdomen, his ruby gaze flitting up to meet yours; there’s an impish glint to them that tells you he doesn’t plan on waiting to have you any longer.

GORTASH

likes to make sketches of you wearing it. has so many drawings of you in compromising positions with it on. definitely keeps them for when he’s alone

loves corsets and bustiers because of how they emphasize your chest, especially in blacks and reds. crotchless panties also drive him INSANE

the sluttier you act while wearing it the better. don’t try to be modest (there’s honestly no reason to be anyway, he’s a freak fr 😹😹)

a sucker for fishnets. likes to take them off and use them to tie your wrists together. will also shove them in your mouth/gag you with them on occasion

his dark irises glance up from his work every so often to study your decorated figure; they follow the arch of your back, the heart shape of your ass, and linger on the exposed area between your thighs more often than not.

“lower,” he directs, and you immediately respond by deepening the angle of your back. he hums contently, scribbles some more, then adds, “spread your legs further.”

you comply once again, happy to flaunt your body under his gaze. the corner of your lip pulls upward, anticipating your reward for being such an obedient little muse.

WYLL

bust this out on your honeymoon and he gets SOOO flustered. i’m talking stuttering/looking away/rubbing his neck

his favorites on you are lacy teddies— especially in blues, purples, and whites. more traditionally sexy styles really get him going

lowkey so obsessed with how you look in it. the kind of thing that’s on his mind 24/7. almost always asking you to put it on for him at the end of the day with a little pout 😹💗

LOVES when you strip for him nice and slow, especially how you tease him by carefully revealing each skimpy garment beneath your clothes. a lapdance is also mandatory

you spot the anxiousness simmering beneath his lax surface— he longs to touch you, but you’d rather toy with him a little more.

prowling closer to where he sits, you slowly unbutton your blouse. with each maneuver of your fingers, you reveal the lingerie lying beneath, watching how his hungry, needy gaze fixates on it.

he inhales sharply as you straddle his lap and take his hand in yours. he lets you guide it over your ornamented body, his eyes heavy with desire as he mutters a low and raspy, “you’ll ruin me.”

#bg3 #astarion #enver gortash #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #astarion x reader #enver gortash x reader #gale dekarios x reader #wyll ravengard x reader #my headcanons #bg3 headcanons #drabbles

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bloodlust-1 · 3 months

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༻ 3 Nights ༺ part 8

Gortash x fem Tav —mini series Explicit 18+

Summary: Gortash invites Tav to stay 3 days at his palace for the sake of an alliance. Reluctantly, she compromises for peace and it becomes an experience they won’t forget.

Part one -> here <-

Tav reached out for a drink from the waiter, smiling to faces familiar and unfamiliar as she limped barely in a dress.

Tav’s never been stabbed so deeply, and it was a feeling she never felt before. A sharp burning, yet then a warmth all over the body. It was strange, and she was lucky to have some of the best healers around. She could’ve died in battle. But here Tav was instead, in a beautiful red dress, limping at a party dedicated to the hero’s of Baldur’s Gate.

She took big sips and allowed the burn of the alcohol sit in her stomach. It eased the pain away from the otherwise throbbing stab wound on her side.

After defeating the netherbrain, Tav’s group returned back to the palace, victorious and hailed as heroes by the people. The once dark and menacing palace was now filled with light and joy as the citizens celebrated their newfound freedom. Gortash ordered a grand ball to be prepared, inviting all the leaders of neighboring kingdoms to join in the celebration.

Tav wrinkled her eyes, trying to keep an eased expression on her face. She downed her drink before cleaning her composure at the sight of a familiar face.

It was Gortash, surprisingly groomed in a classy black embroidered jacket. He looked incredibly handsome.

“I didn’t expect you to be here. I’m glad you could make it.” His broad shoulders seemed to hover over Tav’s body, and despite his intimidating aura Gortash softened his gaze at her.

His eyes narrowed in a relief expression, “Your side...Does it hurt?”

“Like hell.” Tav scuffed with a chuckle, “I’m a special guest, I couldn’t miss this.”

~ 3 Weeks Before The Ball

The emperor Twisted his dagger deep into Tav on the battlefield. The sheer anger dug so deep from betrayal and Tav fell back onto the floor. Of course, this was because they had free’d Orpheus.

Shadowheart quickly called upon their trusted ally Isobel for healing. And Isobel wasted no time in tending to Tav's wounds.

Isobel's healing magic flowed through Tav's body, easing her pain and giving her the strength to push through. It was a grueling process, but Tav gritted her teeth and held on, determined to survive the betrayal and emerge victorious.

Everyone pulled out every skill they knew to defeat the Netherbrain. It was one hell of a fight and at the end of it all, they found themselves at the city's docks; staring out onto the ocean. The dragons flew across the sky and Tav felt the overwhelming happiness blur her eyes.

However the pain slowly started to seep back into her bones. Tav let out a painful cry, feeling the sharp sting of her wound. The metallic taste of blood filled Tav's mouth as she collapsed onto her knees, her once pristine armor was now drenched in crimson. She gritted her teeth, trying to fight through the pain, but it was too much. Her body was wilting, and she could feel her strength slipping away.

Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she heard Wyll's voice calling out to her. She turned her head to see him rushing towards her, his expression filled with worry and fear. He grabbed her trembling body, trying to offer some form of support.

Tav's eyes drifted upwards, fixated on the bright blue sky. It seemed so peaceful and serene, a stark contrast to the chaos and violence that surrounded her.

But even as she lay there, weak and injured, more faces filled her vision. There was Halsin, Shadowheart, Karlach, and then Enver. They all appeared before her, their voices blending together in a blur. Tav tried to keep track, but her body was failing her. And as the darkness began to creep in at the edges of her vision, she knew she couldn't hold on any longer.

It was like Tav was falling into a black abyss, every little word or noise echoed all around her and memories flashed before her eyes.

Tav gasped.

Her body sweated and drenched her clothes as she laid in a bed, around her was littered with medical supplies and potions.

“Tav! Thanks, gods you’re okay.” Shadowheart poked her head into the bedroom. Shadowheart ran over and placed a cool rag over Tav’s forehead. “It got real bad for a second there…That damn Emporer,” she admitted as sadness washed over Shadowheart's eyes.

“I -“ Tav winced loudly cutting her words off as she tried to sit up, “Don’t even remember getting here.”

Tav rubbed her eyes and blinked aimlessly, "Where's everyone..?"

"Well... Karlach and Wyll left together to Avernus, Halsin returned home as did Gale, Lae'zel left with Orpheus, and Astarion is probably hiding in the darkest corner right now."

The crown was returned to Mystra. Gortash quickly realized that his actions would only lead to chaos and death and that his best course of action was to step back and allow Mystra to resume her rightful place to destroy the evil magic.

It was instinctive, to choose survival, and strategic to keep power.

"Oh.." There was a sadness that stung in Tav's chest. It was over. Everyone she called 'friend' was returning to their lives or starting a new one.

“Tav!” A voice startled her eyes opened and it was a pleasant surprise.

“Hey, you…” Tav half smiled through the sharp pain, "Not the prettiest view, I know." She joked shallowly.

Gortash rushed into the room, his heart pounding in fear as he saw Tav lying in the bed, pale with messy hair. He did not waste time planting a passionate kiss on her lips.

"I don't care about that," he said, taking a seat on the bed's edge. "You were drenched in blood, and your skin went pale, I thought maybe it would be the last time I saw you." His voice became low.

Gortash gently took Tav's hand, relieved to feel a weak squeeze in return. "I would much rather see you like this, than like that," His broad frame hovered over Tav's body. "I am just grateful that you are still alive."

He didn't care that Shadowheart was there, with a surprised look on her face from his sudden softness.

"Well - this adventure has shown me lots of surprises. This is certainly one of them." Shadowheart crossed her arms with a knowing smile. She nodded quietly at Tav before leaving them to their privacy.

"I'm happy you came." Tav gently rested her free hand on his injured one, "Thank you."

His expression turned to confusion and disbelief as he processed the words Tav had just spoken. "You're thanking me?" he asked, his lips frowning and his head shaking. "But why? I would have died without you. It was your trust in me, despite your objectively foolish choice, that saved my life."

Tav's naivety and trust led her to place her faith in Gortash, despite all logical reasoning. And yet, it was also this same trait that had allowed Tav to take a leap of faith and ultimately save his life.

Gortash sighed, "And I am forever grateful for - your stupidity." It was a statement filled with sincerity and appreciation; even if he sucked at it with words.

Tav rolled her eyes playfully, "You're horrible with gratitude, but you're welcome, Enver."

Gortash's eyes softened as his name left Tav's lips. He brought her hands to his face and kissed the bruised skin.

"I suppose you still want me to become part of your court...Im not sure if -"

"No. I cannot engage in any business discussions when you are like this." He lowered her hands and gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. Gortash looked into Tav's eyes, relieved that she was even alive, he knew that nothing else mattered at that moment. Gortash was grateful for her safety and well-being, and he could not bring himself to discuss anything else until she was in a better state.

~Back to the present

"Indeed, you are special." Gortash held out his arm inviting her and Tav hooked her arms around his. She limped a little less as he held some weight off her feet.

Some guests turned their heads in interest, silently wondering about the nature of their relationship. As they made their way through the room, Tav noticed the various reactions. Some wore surprised expressions, others showed jealousy, while some seemed completely baffled.

Tav felt her face flush with a hint of embarrassment, and she wondered what was going through their minds. Tav couldn't blame them for being curious, but it still made her feel uncomfortable.

It was a strange feeling. Tav was sent to kill Gortash and release the city from his binds and treachery. She betrayed herself, and maybe some of her companions but she couldn't explain the way Gortash went soft for her. Only her. Maybe with better influence, he could really thrive, despite his horrible demeanor.

But Gortash remained unfazed, confidently leading her through the room. His nonchalant attitude added to the mystery surrounding their relationship. And he could feel Tav's hold become tighter.

Gortash looked down at her and nudged his head, "Uncomfortable, my dear? Let us get some privacy."

Tav's eyebrows curved up in a softened expression. Thank Gods.

Gortash guided Tav away from the loud and chaotic room, filled with loud music and prying eyes. As they distanced themselves from the overwhelming atmosphere, he lifted her gently into his arms. Tav couldn't keep up with his fast steps. He pitied her.

Gortash carried Tav onto the balcony and was greeted by a stunning view of the garden. The lush greenery and colorful flowers filled the air with a sweet, floral scent.

Tav carefully sank her footing until her feet were firmly planted on the balcony floor. She then leaned over the railing, taking in the beauty of the garden. Gortash soon joined her, propping his elbows on the balcony and admiring the scenery beside her. They stood in silence, mesmerized.

"There is so much in this world I can offer to it." He stared off onto the night sky, "I've been cheated of my life many times, and every time I have prevailed." His head slowly turned to Tav's side, "That must mean something?"

"Of course. You were meant to be here. You are an inventor at heart but I wished you would be more...ethical in your work."

Gortash scuffed as a smirk played on his lips, "Life is unfair, isn't it."

Tav's expression shifted as she scrunched her lips to the side and furrowed her brows in a pout, "Life is what you make of it."

"Not everyone is an optimistic hero that goes and swooping down to save anyone." He paused, his voice firm and unwavering, "I didn't have you. I didn't have a choice. But I refused to be a mere pawn in the hands of a devil. I made a conscious decision to rise above my circumstances and become something more. I made me."

He continued, "A forgotten child. A slave. A follower. A tyrant."

Tav tilted her head with a pang of sadness. Without hesitation, she extended her hand toward him, "While this may be your reality, remember that you still have the power to decide your future," she said gently. "You can choose a different path."

"It's more complicated than that, Tav."

"Then -" She leaned her head on his shoulder, "Let us figure it out together."

"Like I said: Optimistic hero." He closed his eyes and smiled sarcastically, "I don't know if I should hate or admire it."

"You don't have to understand." Tav nudged her head against his arm, "Some things are not meant to understand, but you would be lucky too one day, I hope."

"You know, people say I have magical foresight" Tav teased him.

"No one says that- "

"How would you know, you're practically a princess locked away in her tower."

Gortash laughed at Tav's sassiness, finding her wit and boldness amusing.

The moment went silent around them as they enjoyed each other's company. The ballroom's music crept into the air, and Gortash then stepped away from the balcony and held out his hand, "A dance, little hero?"

"O-Ohh noo, Enever, I'm not much of a dancer." Tav playfully waved her hands back and forth while shaking her head and wearing a wide grin.

He shrugged, "Neither am I."

Tempting. Tav softened her smile as her heart jumped out of her chest. She hesitantly took Gortash's hand in hers and he pulled her body closer.

His hand fell at Tav's waist. Without thinking, he began to sway from side to side, moving in a small waltz-like motion. Gortash wanted to take things slow, not wanting to hurt her stab wound in any way.

Plus, It helped him mask his horrible dancing.

Tav's foot accidentally stepped on his toes, and she was mortified with embarrassment.

Gortash chuckled to himself. It wasn't serious, Tav was just as lacking as he was. Despite being messy, sloppy, and dysfunctional, their dance became smoother eventually, with their feet perfectly in sync.

Tav rested her head on Gortash's shoulder, her hand on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as they danced.

As the song came to an end, Tav lifted her head and looked into Gortash's eyes. She smiled and gently placed her hand on his face, running her thumb over his cheek.

Gortash exhaled and leaned into her touch. "You look beautiful tonight, Tav," he said, his deep voice filled with admiration.

Tav blushed and looked down, her red dress swaying with their movements. "Thank you," she said softly, feeling her heart flutter at his words.

"It's my favorite color on you," Gortash continued, his eyes never leaving hers. "You always look stunning, but there's something about you in red that's so alluring."

Gortash leaned down and captured Tav's lips in a gentle kiss. It was a soft, sweet kiss that sent shivers down her spine.

His hands moved to her shoulders, holding her firmly as he deepened the kiss. Tav's heart raced and she felt his lips move against hers, their bodies still swaying to the music.

His tongue crept into Tav's mouth and intertwined with hers. Gortash savored the taste of her lips, which he had been longing for ever since they last had sex.

When they pulled away, Tav's eyes met Gortash's, and she could see the lust in his eyes. He held her face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks.

"So what will it be now, between us?" His voice fell low, and Tav could've sworn she felt the nervousness exude from him. His gaze became increasingly cold, almost like he was preparing himself for the worst.

"Whatever you want it to be," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Their breaths mingled in the air.

"I want you."

Tav gently placed her hand over his, intertwining their fingers as she spoke, "Then you'll have me."

"But let's take this slow - I want to get to know you more outside these damn walls." Tav stifled a small laugh and met Gortash's eyes, waiting to see how he would react.

Gortash gently nodded his head, a small smile forming on his lips and his eyes welcoming. He agreed and reached out and traced Tav's lips with his thumb, his touch gentle and tender.

"I will do my best to make you happy and protect you at all costs."

They continued to dance on the balcony, lost in each other's embrace and the magic of the moment. The music faded into the background as they kissed and held each other, not knowing what this 'love' was. But they were damn well going to find out together.

As the stars twinkled above them, Gortash leaned in and kissed Tav softly, sealing their newfound alliance and love for each other. And in that moment, they knew that they were meant to rule together, side by side.

~The End

T - T Aw, this was my first every mini-series, and ah<3 It's time to move on.. This was fun to imagine in my room late at night just typing like a madman.. Definitely not my last series! I'm currently writing another Gortash x durge Tav called Blood Bond and requests :'))))

But I hope everyone enjoyed and for those who stuck around, Much appreciated :*<3

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #bg3 fic #bg3 #enver gortash #gortash x durge #dark urge x gortash #tav x gortash #gortash smut #gortash x tav #gortash x reader #lord gortash #bg3 gortash #gortash x oc

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algrenion · 2 months

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i love collecting dyes in BG3 but most of them go unused because i like muted colours for most of the companions; Astarion in muddy reds and shadow-y dark clothes for stealthing, Karlach in deep browns and blacks, Halsin in earth-tones and greens, etc.

maybe a little jazz for Gale, who i like to fit out in purple - but a washed out kind of purple that reflects a kind of aged quality to the fabric

Wyll, though? Wyll is my Style Icon. Wyll gets the spectrum. Wyll gets pinks, he gets sunshine yellows and scarlets and gold plated armours. Wyll gets fresh royal purple with gold accents, he gets luxurious blue/turquoise velvets with silver linings and the biggest, flutteriest capes i can rustle up out of our travels. He's our ambassador and a gem and he should shine like one gods dammit. Wyll is THE reason why the communal camp dye basket exists.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #playing bg3 #wyll ravenguard #purple is his best colour and i wont be told otherwise #he's royalty and his clothes should reflect it /HUFF

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thesorrowoflizards · 2 months

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the blade of frontiers.

for @normal-thoughts-official

[Image ID: A digital painting of Wyll Ravengard, post transformation. He is painted in shades of orange, the highlights pushing into yellow and the shadows into red. His scars are also in a brighter red. His top is in dark blues, and his head is surrounded by a halo of white, ringed in gold. The background is dark purple. Along the halo, in black scrawl, are the words "I am used to being the hero." Off to the side, in the purple, the quote continues, "Not used to needing one." /end ID]

#wyll ravengard #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 wyll #baldurs gate wyll #my art

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comfortabletextiles · 7 months

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BG3 Art batts

Astarion: White silk/super fine Merino blend. Also either red locks or, some red beads probably both

Karlach: Red with yellow streaks, and black locks

Lae'zel: green with black silk neps and locks the color of illithid blod (green/petrol???)

Shadowheart: blend of dark violett and black and maybe some silver silk. Black beads

Halsin: some old sheep breed base in different greena and browns, with wood beads in the form of ducks and/or bears. Also maybe some gold silk for the Wildform transformation

Wyll: brown balck and red mix 🤔 and locks in the colors of blue and gold for Mizora

Gale: some nice violett wool base, with different colored mohair locks, also some Angelina for the magic

I mean I visit the wool fair in oktober, I could go totally nuts and buy all these things to make these... someone stop me pls, I don't have the space

#BG3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #art batts #idea #art #fuber art #the brain rot is real...

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tavyliasin · 2 months

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The Meaning of Pain - One Shot SFW (Mature Themes, No Sex)

2,601 Words

Wyll had not understood the appeal when his companion had willingly, enthusiastically, offered their body up to Abdirak to receive what should amount to torture...but the look they had after, and the way that the priest spoke of pain had stuck in the back of his mind. Along with a few hundred questions.

---

This was a prompt to write a character examination piece, to explain what it is that people see in Abdirak without going into anything overtly sexual, and cover a little more Loviatar lore. Wyll felt like the perfect character to explore this with, as he is gentler but open to understanding, and there's potential for common ground between them too. I hope you enjoy a little more of a look into the emotions I see in these two~

Pairing: Abdirak and Wyll - Platonic/Strangers, No Romance or Sex SPICE Rating: 1/5 Content Warnings: Mentions of pain, mentions of injury and scarring, mentions of blood, discussion of BDSM and Sado-Masochism from a non-sexual viewpoint

Spoilers Act 1, Abdirak Canon Compliance: Close to canon, though it is unknown where Abdirak goes after leaving the Goblin camp. Other Notes: I'm marking this one as Mature but no sex. 18+ still, honestly, given the discussion of BDSM and kink, but you won't find anything remotely sexual or romantic here beyond the reasons why some of us feel a draw towards Loviatar's priest~

Mood/Song Bob by The Dodos "I take it hard because I tried To get you out To have a stroll, to have a talk About your world, about the laws That keep you stuck, that keep you locked I know it's hard for you to change Before we part our separate ways You need to know I understand you."

Short fic below the cut! ----- -----

The Meaning of Pain

Wyll shifted nervously as he approached the small encampment. He knew that the priest had been spotted, making his own journey in the same direction away from the goblin camp, yet still he hesitated. The fire was warm and inviting, but he worried that his presence would be less welcome. It wasn’t like the two had anything in common, did they? Abdirak was sat on a flat rock near the fire, not worrying to stand or to reach for a weapon as the warlock approached. “What brings you out here, so far from your companions?” “A question.” Wyll responded, summoning a little courage to step closer to the soft heat of the fire. “Well, several questions - if you are not opposed to answering them, that is.”

“I see no reason why not.” The priest gestured to a rock a little further around the fire, watching Wyll calmly as he took a seat upon the stone.

He took another look around the camp. There was no tent, barely a few thin blankets upon the ground near the fire, a pillow that had seen better days, and a backpack that looked as if it had travelled further than the man who carried it. There were a few cooking supplies, food, and a little wine, so it was clear the man took care of himself in some way. But that was adding to the questions…

“You are not here to seek the aid I usually offer, dear one, despite the many burdens you carry.” Abdirak had a way of seeing right through people that was putting Wyll on edge, spurring the first proper query. “That’s what I do not understand - you hurt people, physically, viscerally, you wound their bodies and call it healing?” His gaze drifted across the myriad of scars that covered the priest’s body. There were old bruises, dark and fading to the green-tinted purple of the body returning back to its usual pallid hue, silvered scars that had been carried for many years. Alongside those were fresher wounds, angry red marks, some swollen at the edges or dark with near-black bruising, and the jagged edges of deeper and still vivid scars marking where flesh had torn asunder. “You even harm yourself, and what’s stranger is that you seem to enjoy it all.”

“I do.” Abdirak said simply, clear grey-blue eyes softening, a wide and open gesture with his hands inviting Wyll to look more closely. “Each and every mark is one I wear with pride, it is proof of my love to the goddess Loviatar, Maiden of Pain. It is through my pain, and that of others, that I show my devotion. In return, she offers her blessings, as she did for your friend when they called out their exquisite agony in her name.” The priest smiled at the memory, gazing upwards for a moment as if to the heavens themselves, to her approval.

Wyll remembered standing there in the cold room, watching his friend face a blood soaked wall, screaming with each fresh wound that painted their flesh with their own sanguine design. “But it is still pain, surely there is no joy that can come from that? I would think you a pure sadist, were your words not so kind.”

Abdirak laughed for a moment, the warm sound unexpected from the man whose body was a map of torture. “I shall take that as a compliment, dear one, that you understand at least some part of what I am. Who I am.” The priest pressed upon a fresher looking bruise, as not a wince but a smile crossed his featured from the sensation. “Pain has purpose.”

“I can agree to that much. Pain tells you when you have burned your hand so you do not keep it upon the stove.” Wyll raised an eyebrow. “Although, knowing who I’m speaking with, perhaps that is not the best comparison to draw.”

“That is one form of pain, true. But have you never felt the satisfaction of your muscles aching after exercise? The relief of a splinter removed from your finger?” Abdirak’s hands came together in front of him, fingers steepled almost akin to a prayer but not quite. “Pain opens up pathways to something deeper, enables a release that cannot be found any other way.” “You cannot seriously be comparing exercise to whipping yourself raw!” He was astonished, really, that such a thing could even be suggested. Of course the burn of a run or training with the sword could feel good after even if it hurt, but that was the satisfaction of making progress in something productive…wasn’t it? “Pain is a sensation, dear one, the visceral experience of vivid agony that proves we are alive. Do not mistake it for suffering.” Abdirak continued to gesture, wide hands holding invisible examples of the very concepts themselves. “Suffering can be the effect, the end result of pain, but it can also be alleviated by the very same. When you spar with your sword, and your arms and legs are filled with the ache of exertion, that is pain. It only becomes suffering if you feel it as such. Some may not enjoy the experience, choosing not to train so hard, whilst others will push themselves to their very limits just to experience the rush and satisfaction it can bring; a pain that eases deeper suffering.” Wyll sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and in turn his chin in his hands. The fire continued to crackle quietly, the low scent of smoke in the air reminding him a little uncomfortably of his own deeper suffering. “That cannot be all there is to it.” He stated, rather than asked.

“Of course, the heart of the matter is far beyond the surface, but that is the beginning. I give purpose to pain, and ensure it is delivered with a loving hand.” The smile that reached storm-coloured eyes was genuine, there was no room for doubt there.

“You said that before.” Wyll’s mind turned back to seeing his companion, bloodied and bruised, shivering with anticipation before the next strike came down upon their back. “The loving part. Is that Loviatar? Or you?”

“Both, naturally.” Abdirak’s hands came together, then opened like a book, as if the answers lay in the pages of his palms. “I ensure that I do not give more than my penitents can bear, and Loviatar receives their cries as hymns of devotion, songs that she repays with her own divine love.” He recalled again how the priest’s fingers had woven through the air, crimson curls of magic like blood in the air itself forming the sign of the divine spell, a renewed strength and vigour filling his companion’s complexion. “The blessing…” “Quite so, but it is more than that. When I feel the pain, when I deliver the penance of those who seek to unburden their suffering under my hand, it is as if I can feel the Maiden’s arms around me. Her love…” Abdirak sighed deeply, gazing into the flames before him. “It is much the same as fire. Warm and beautiful, yet equally as dangerous if one is not careful.” “That does not sound so appealing to me. I have been burned too many times already.” Wyll shivered, the feeling of the nine hells crawling across his skin, reshaping his entire being… “You are still looking at the suffering, dear one. The wrong kinds of pain will harm you, but the right kinds can free you of your burdens, if you so wish.” Thin lips curved into a smile, the devotion to the priest’s passions were never in doubt. “Not that I shall offer to you that which you do not request. Nor would I judge you for declining the offer, either. It is enough that you are willing to understand, a noble trait befitting the self-made hero.”

“Then what of emotional pain?” He recalled something he had read long ago, about worshippers of Loviatar using tricks and manipulation to bring other forms of wounds. “Sharp tongues hurt as much as sharp swords, and a broken heart takes longer to heal than a broken bone.” “That,” a different look crossed the priest’s face for a moment, brows furrowing. “That is where I differ from my kin. Where they see every pain as an offering, I see the suffering that taints such acts. This is why I travel, dear one, despite my rank and expertise. I will not stand to see a waste of pain. There is no purpose to a broken heart, there is no love in twisting another’s mind. No. I give only what is asked, I satisfy the maiden’s wish with the blissful agony, the beauty of exquisite penance that unburdens a heart of guilt it does not deserve.”

“You make it sound almost peaceful, yet your methods are so…brutal.” He was at least a little relieved that the man had no intention of causing any lasting harm to his companions.

“It is as it must be, dear one.” Abdirak idly ran his fingers over some older scars on his arm. “The sharp experience of pain can lead to a stillness of mind. How acute it must be will vary, but the result is the same. The suffering is stripped away, the guilt peeled back, until all that is left is the physical. Every sting and ache of the body soothes the soul, leaving a soft floating, the pleasant relief of every burden undone. Even other pains might melt away under the fresh sting of a hurt that was wanted, asked for.”

“Is that…all?” Wyll found his mouth felt dry. The words made sense, but it was still difficult to imagine how anyone could subject themselves to torture so willingly. Abdirak smiled again, the hint of something else in his expression. “There are some who find the adrenaline of the experience to be…pleasurable. Pain subsiding can give way to the rise of the body’s own self-soothing, a rush and sensitivity to further sensation. Or some simply find it enjoyable to not have to be in control, to hand their responsibility and safety to another.” The priest’s arms spread wide once more, an open gesture. “There are many ways one might find Loviatar’s love to be freeing, an exquisite indulgence in the forbidden. They are all deeply satisfying, in their own way.”

Wyll felt Abdirak’s gaze settling on him now, tracing across his own scars, the many ways he had been marked by suffering. It culminated in the piercing look meeting his own infernal eye that burned as bright as the fire that reflected in it. “This is still not something I am looking for, if that’s all the same to you.”

“Dear one, that is not the thought that came to mind. You see, there are some who simply find comfort in knowing that our scars do not have to be a source of shame. A few even see beauty in the lingering memories of agony in my flesh.” Abdirak’s fingers once again traced over the lines of old wounds, this time with purpose. “Many of these are a mark of my devotion to Loviatar. Some are those I chose to keep to remember a precious encounter with a penitent soul or kindred spirit.” His voice grew softer, the hint of deeper pain flickering behind his eyes. “Yet some are simply a reminder that their cause was not my end.”

Wyll felt all at once completely exposed and yet wrapped in the warmth of empathy. His hand moved unbidden, wincing as he touched the base of his horns, still unused to the deep grooves and ridges across his face and the rest of his body, too. “There’s nothing good about this. A mark of failure, not of valour, and a reminder that no matter how far I go I will carry my shame where all can see.”

“If you had failed, warlock, your friends would be leaving flowers upon your grave. You survived that which would have destroyed a lesser man, and you still keep your sword, your values, your heart. Is that not why you sought me out?” Abdirak reached out, fingers gesturing a caress across his horns, above where scars marked his body. There was no touch, but the ghost of where it might be from a few inches away. “You are not here to admonish me, nor are you seeking my penance. You wanted to understand how one who is so marked can embrace pain and begin to own it. There is little to be earned from bemoaning your fate, when instead you can take every scar and make it your strength. You are changed, yes, but who escapes life without it reshaping them in one way or another?” “I suppose that is one way to see it…” Wyll considered his words, still unsure if he could come to see scars as beautiful, but there was certainly more to think about.

“Make it mean what you want it to mean, dear one.” Abdirak withdrew his hands, but kept eye contact, driving each word deep into Wyll’s heart. “Every part of you belongs to you, and you alone are the one who is permitted to define that for yourself. Perhaps endurance, or simple survival. You could see it as spite, to love every mark that you were told you should hate, to embrace the changes fully as who you are despite what the world tried to make of you. Offering your pain to Loviatar might not be something you wish, but you may still give it purpose beyond suffering.”

Wyll sat quietly for a while. Abdirak made no move to pressure him to speak, nor did he try to fill the silence with words. Instead, they both remained in the stillness of night, the crackling of the fire a soft comfort along with the glow and warmth it provided. Eventually, the sound of footsteps approaching broke the silence. “So, this is where you were. We were beginning to worry.” Their voice was light, as was the sparkle in their eyes. “I see you found Abdirak, a pleasure to meet again so soon. I was hoping our paths might cross.”

“Perhaps I should head back to camp.” Wyll realised his companion might be looking for a little relief from their recent burdens, in a manner that neither he nor the others in the camp might provide. The small smile from Loviatar’s priest spoke similar volumes of the hope for some time on their own. “Be careful not to overdo it.” He cautioned, knowing there was little need. He was beginning to see the deeper meaning in the evening’s discussion, there was certainly much to think on. “It has been a distinct pleasure to enjoy your company, Wyll.” Abdirak’s use of his name gave him pause in his steps. “I do hope it will not be for the last time. Perhaps we might share a drink in the future, speak more of Loviatar’s customs and of your own experiences, should you so wish.”

“That…” Wyll paused to consider it. “Yes. I would like that. Thank you, Abdirak, for a serendipitous evening.”

Somehow, Wyll’s steps were lighter as he made his way back to their own camp where the rest of his friends waited. The sounds of their usual talk, laughter, and arguments bubbled through the still air, but did little to break the thoughts that still settled deeper into his mind.

Perhaps the priest knew even more of suffering, and how to ease it, than simply through his pious and painful devotions…

--- --- END NOTES --- ---

As a side note, I usually capitalise Dear One, but I kept it lowercase here. It's a subtle cue to a less familiar relationship, a way that Abdirak's still addressing people as he often would but not quite with the same level he speaks with someone who is partaking in a session.

A lot of this has a strong basis in reality - pain in kink is often not about being hurt, it is about a sensation, and then the adrenaline and endorphins that come with it. There are even those who indulge in BDSM for the headspace, something often referred to as "subspace", rather than anything directly sexual. It's a release of suffering, in a very direct and almost visceral manner, but the effect for some can be more relaxing than any long spa day.

If you're interested in learning more about the NSFT or the non-sexual side of pain kink, please do feel free to get in touch with me and I can direct you to some resources or just talk over more in detail about the themes here if you wish~ I feel that often having an understanding for things that we aren't directly engaged in or even interested in can help broaden our perspectives in a whole range of ways.

#abdirak #wyll ravengard #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 wyll #wyll #baldurs gate 3 #fanfic #nons3xual discussion of k1nk #pain #loviatar #ShortFic #Spotify

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writteninlunarlight-years · 18 hours

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Hi there,

i wanted to ask for a BG3 and marauders matchup if thats okay :)

Here's the stuff:

Gender:

agender (afab if that matters lol)

Pronouns:

He/they/she

Sexuality:

Queer (i like men and women and nonbinary people lol but labels always feel wrong)

Appearance:

5'7, bit chubby, shoulder length brown hair that i usually tuck behind my ears, grey blueish eyes, black nosering in my left nostril, L and R tattooed on my wrist (yes for left and right lol). I mostly wear dark academia or cottagecore style clothes, usually dark and earthy colours with the occasional blue and red.

Personality:

Gemini infp, 6w5. Im usually more shy and anxious when i first meet someone or am in a new environment, but get pretty enthusiastic and talkative once i get to know someone. Im autistic, so i can get sensory overload or just overwhelmed, and sometimes this can lead me to get panic attacks or become nonverbal. This also means that certain topics can lead me to talk for like hours, even with strangers. My love language is physical touch, i love hugs or linking arms with people, and i have a tendency to lay against someone when sitting or if im very close with someone sometimes biting them (softly i promise lol). I do struggle a lot with recognising my emotions and i dont really like fighting. I dont really talk about my feelings, mostly opinions. I am known to be very good at debates, and usually lead them at school, because i am known to be able to form logic based opinions easily. I am creative and good at analysing situation and calculating the best outcome in my head. Also im very much the oldest sibling.

Likes (at least like three things):

- books

- flowers

- music

- singing

- animals

Dislikes (at least three things):

- SPIDERS

- sweaty sticky summers

- tomatoes

- (myself lol)

Extra fun fact (this is about whoever you are describing to me):

I have a breathing problem so i basically have to tell my body to breath, it doesnt to it enough by itself lol

BG3 EXTRA-

Race:

Woodland elf

Class:

Druid

D&D alignment:

Chaotic good

Sorry for the delay! I have been having a rough 24 hours. Hopefully, after some rest, I will be able to crank out these matchups faster again! I hope this is to your liking!

~~~~~ MATCH UP ~~~~~

BG3: Loyal, Regal, Protective, and Compassionate I present to you your Baldurs Gate 3 match------

Wyll Ravengaurd

I picked Wyll for you because his calm, relaxed demeanor will match your shyness and because Wyll, out of all the characters, is the most likely to just sit there and listen. There are numerous dialog options where he always wants to take the topic off of him and listen to someone else.

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

This man is a sweet bean who doesn't get much love and appreciation in the BG3 fandom. I think that stems from the slow storyline and questline.

However, he is just a gentleman who wants to protect and care for his people and those struggling.

Over time of knowing you, Wyll learns to love to dance again. He loves watching you spin around and enjoy time with him.

Will loves to listen. He would much rather sit and listen to you talk about anything you desire than dwell on his past. When he is with you, he desires nothing more than to listen to all the fun facts, quips, and stories you have.

Wyll is very protective of you, but he realizes he cannot always be there to protect you when times get hard in battle. So he makes duel dates and teaches you how to duel with his beloved rapier.

He is the most gentle being with you when you get overwhelmed or even have a breathing spell. He will help give you some privacy by casting Blur or Hadars Darkness (Let's pretend it doesn't cause damage).

If you have any special rituals to help you through your most challenging moments, he learns them by heart to be of the utmost help.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

The group was walking through the forest on its way to Baldurs Gate. You are deemed the fearless leader because you are the glue that holds everyone together. Too bad you are horrible with directions. Not that it really mattered. You had tons of friends and your partner surrounding you to help you correct your choices. Today, like any other day, you made a few mistakes, but the drawn-on 'L' and 'R' on your hands were really helping.

As you made it to what looked like an abandoned village, everyone agreed it was time to call it a day. The crew was exhausted, and Astarion looked deader than usual, even as a dead man. Setting up camp, it became apparent there needed to be more firewood and, most importantly, food. After a quick game of heads or tails with a coin, Wyll and you became the duo to save the evening, not that either of you would complain. You remembered that you heard a stream or waterfall not too far from here. Now, was it to your left or to your right? Shrugging, you chose a direction and set off with Wyll.

You two always had a calm relationship, and nothing really changed after you started dating, either. Wyll loved to listen to you and understand the inner workings of your mind. As you moved through the darkening forest, both of you realized there was no water nearby. "Y/N dear, out of curiosity, do you know where we are?" You paused, looking between the map and the area surrounding you. "Um, yes, definitely, we just need to make a." You look down at your hands, looking at the letters, "Left here and then one more left and a right, then boom, water. See, I can read a map!"

Will laughed softly, shaking his head. Following your lead, you two eventually came to a source of water. Of course, Wyll was not going to mention to you that had you just gone straight and then left originally from camp, you would have made it here faster. No, he was going to keep this to himself, seeing as you gave him the most radiant smile that could almost challenge Shadowheart's divine light. Getting lost with you would always be one of his favorite things.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(After freeing yourselves from the parasite, Wyll and you started adventuring together. Finding new wonders and beautiful places to call your own.)

Y/N: Wyll, look over there, just over the horizon. Is that a flower field?

Wyll: Why yes, my love, it sure does look like one; care to partake?

(You nod eagerly and trek to the field. Picking a good spot, you and Wyll sit down in the field, eagerly picking flowers and making a crown.)

Y/N: You know what this flower means, Wyll. (You began to inform Wyll of every single flower and herb in the field. Wyll is just staring at you lovingly.) Hey, are you listening to me?

Wyll: (He proceeded to resay everything you had just said to him.) My love, I will always listen to you.

Alrighty, with BG3 out of the way, I have a good one as well for your Marauders Era match. They are kind, understanding, protective, and very goofy.

I match you with------

Lily Evans

Lily Evans is a kind, loving soul. She is also brilliant and very understanding. Lilly does not judge anyone unless they give her a reason, and she is so supportive. Now, she does have quite the goofy side—I mean, she has, too—she's best friends with the Marauders.

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

Lily is brilliant. Many have said she is the witch of her time. Being muggle-born didn't stop her from rising to the top academically.

Due to how smart she is she loves to debate with you healthily, even if she agrees with you 100% on a topic she wants to hear all your reasonings why.

Lily definitely has that goofy, youngest-sibling energy. Being the oddball sibling, Lily would have to comfort herself with jokes and humor.

Being the youngest sibling definitely counteracts your older sibling energy. She is the Ying to your Yang when it comes to the way you two see the world.

Lily loves hanging on to you, arms linked, walking around school, or even holding pinkies to Hogsmeade.

Though Lily isn't the biggest fan of many animals besides cats, she goes to care of magical beasts with you. She trusts you will make sure she doesn't do something stupid and let her get eaten.

Lily loves to listen to you sing. Nothing makes her happier than you two sneaking into the prefect bathroom and listening to you sing in the echoey room.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

You sat by the black lake, staring James Potter down. It was you and Lily versus him and Remus. The debate today is why any witch or wizard would learn dark magic. This conversation stemmed from Sirius's quick departure not even ten minutes prior due to something happening to his brother. There was speculation that the family had begun to bring the boys into more darker things. Being the black sheep, Sirius wanted out and moved in with James; however, Regulus wasn't so lucky, you all assumed.

The debate grew heated as you debated why a family would teach their child these spells but that no family should teach them. James' take on the idea was that they were bad news if a person even thought about learning the spells. Lily and Remus interjected occasionally as you two debated; however, it was clear you and James didn't need help. In theory, you were both saying the same thing, just slightly different flavors. The natural nail in the coffin for this debate was when James repeated the point you made ten minutes ago back to you but in his own words.

This caused both of you to stop and stare at one another. An exhausted Remus said, "Lily, you owe me ten gallons. It took them eight minutes longer than you thought it would take them to realize they were saying the same thing." Lily shrugged and coughed up the money, returning to her place beside you and wrapping her arm around your waist. "Best eight gallons I have ever spent seeing my partner speak so passionately on behalf of our dear friend." James turned to look at Remus, "Don't tell me you two bet on who would win the argument-" You quickly interjected James. "It wasn't an argument. You git. It was a debate. Get it right." Lily laughed gently and kissed your cheek lovingly. "That's it, my love. Show him who's boss."

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(Summer had approached, and you all were staying at James' family home. The only problem was it was hot, way too hot. Luckily, James had a brilliant idea)

Y/N: If it gets any hotter, I will melt, I can feel myself melting.

James: No Y/N, that's called sweat. I thought you were smart or something. Anyway, everyone come grab your respective colored water balloon's. It is time for war.

(Everyone grabs a balloon. What Sirius did not inform James was the fact the balloons were filled with not only cooled water but coloring as well)

Lily: Alright, everyone, on the count of three....1.....2.....3.

(By the end of the fight, everyone was colored from head to toe in a rainbow of water.)

Lily: Hey, Y/N, come over here.

Y/N: What up, Lills?

(Lily leans in and kisses you gently)

Lily: Look, babe, we made purple.

Y/N: What a fantastic way to cool down.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter #baulders gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #baldurs gate wyll #wyll x reader #lily evans #mauraders #marauders x reader #marauders era #match up #head canon #x reader #lily evans x reader #the marauders

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euryalex · 7 months

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The tale of Wyll Ravengard, the Blade of Frontiers, and Tara Lunarsong, the Lily of the Valley. From the moment their stories started, to when their stories intertwined, to when the stories came to an end, and a new story began.

» Wyll reunites with an old friend, and old memories are brought up.

A/N: I write in Dutch, first, before translating to English, so sorry for any mistakes!

1 / 2 (You're here!) / 3

His horns itched, but he couldn't scratch. His claws would cut through his skin, and the horns themselves hurt enough already. He had the body of a half-human, half-tiefling, even though he was a devilspawn. The lack of a tail made it clear what he really was: a half-devil.

Behind him, behind the bushes, there was a feast going on — the tieflings celebrating that they were still alive, that they were safe. A few days ago, Wyll might have joined them, but Zevlor's reaction told him enough. The tieflings were afraid of him. They knew him as the Blade of Frontiers and now he was their greatest fear.

He heard them laughing profusely. Alfira loudly sang a song to get everyone in the mood, and he stood on the riverbank, lost in thought. Then he heard footsteps in the sand. They came closer and closer. When Wyll looked at who joined him, he was speechless.

When he first met Tara, she was wearing a bloodied blue dress that showed a lot of skin. Her hair was messed up and caked in blood. But after they defeated the goblins, Tara had clearly found a new dress.

Now she was wearing a dark purple dress, the skirt of which was torn above her knees. Her legs were covered by black thigh high leather boots with high heels. A black leather corset hugged her waist, and it looked damn good on her.

When he finished admiring her clothes, he looked into her eyes and saw a tattoo decorating her cheekbone: three bird silhouettes. The moonlight made her look even paler, but she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Hells, I was hoping you wouldn't notice I was gone," Wyll admitted half-softly, and she threw him a nervous smile, "Of course I noticed. It's not a party without you."

"Really? I'm honoured," Wyll said, first with a small smile before getting serious: "Honestly, I don't feel like I'm in a party mood, and I don't want to cast a grey cloud over the night."

Tara frowned questioningly.

"I'm a devil," he explained, "I love the people of the grove, but I upset them, deep down. You don't want a devil at your party. Claws will pop the balloons, you see. And the sweet pies don't taste half as good as raw eggs with this cursed forked tongue."

His words were laced with venom. He hated what he had become.

Tara took a step closer. "For what it's worth, you don't upset me," she whispered. There was pity in her eyes — no, not pity. Grief.

Wyll shook his head and chuckled. "If only half the world had half of your heart," he sighed, "But away with you! This is your day. Dance, enjoy the music."

"Can't you tell why I wanted to find you?" she smiled shyly.

Wyll felt his cheeks grow warm, but he didn't want to cherish his hopes.

"You must have ended up here by accident," he joked, "Too much honeywine can do that. You have to watch yourself."

She laughed nervously, "No. Guess what."

"Let me think for a moment," he mused, "Why are you really here?"

She wasn't here for him. Why would she be, if she could seduce someone like Karlach or Gale?

"You must be Volo in disguise," he jokingly claimed, "Who is here to address me for stories about the Blade of Frontiers. What a cruel disguise! My nerves started hammering as soon as I thought she was the one looking for me."

Please let me down slowly if you don't feel the same. Please forget everything I said if your heart belongs to someone else.

"Surprisingly, you're getting closer," Tara said, before biting her lip nervously.

"It's a long shot," Wyll muttered, "But maybe you've... grown fond of me? Gods know I've grown fond of you."

Her eyes grew large with joy as her pale cheeks turned red. "Was I that obvous?" she blushed, causing him to laugh, "You have a lot of talents, but subtlety is not one of them."

Then he looked away and avoided her gaze, "I can't say I deserve the honour. I haven’t even manage to kill one measly devil. I'm hardly a prime catch."

He watched her swallow. She looked nervous, but that didn't stop her from taking another step closer.

"Perhaps I can prove my affection, if you'll let me?" she said softly.

He looked at her again. Her purple eyes twinkled.

"How do you want to prove that?" he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Slowly she stretched out her hand and cupped his cheek. Her skin was freezing cold, but he didn't flinch. If anything, he leaned into her touch. She looked into his eyes and then glanced at his lips.

The sounds of the party began to fade and the only thing he could focus on was Tara. He felt himself lean forward until their lips barely touched. She looked into his eyes for one last time, before their lips finally met.

He felt his heart start beating faster. As she kept one hand on his cheek, he felt her press the other against his waist. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

Wyll had had a lot of kisses, but Tara's lips felt like pure magic.

Despite feeling like the moment lasted an eternity, Wyll still felt it was over too soon, but eventually he had to pull away to take a breath.

"Well, you have a party to return to," he swallowed. He looked at her, his eyes full of promises, "There will be another time for us. I promise you."

Next part »

#baldur's gate 3 #oc: tara #x: witchblade

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