It will never not be hilarious to me that you can’t romance Raphael in BG3
I’m not even a diehard fan of Raphael, but genuinely, there is no other character in BG3 that BEGS to be romanced more than him. He’s a suave, conniving, handsome, literal devil who exists in the story primarily to PURSUE the Tav/player and persuade them to make a deal with him. He spends basically the entire story just following the Tav around, desperate for their attention, while at the same time trying to play it cool and act like he isn’t basically obsessively stalking them. He flirts with the Tav incessantly, gives them affectionate nicknames, suggestively looks them up and down, and angrily writes about them in his diary like a scorned teenage girl.
Honestly, it gets to a point where the game might as well just be toying with Raphael fans. In act 3, the Tav has the option of sleeping with someone Raphael-adjacent—Haarlep in Raphael’s devil form—but not Raphael himself. It’s even implied later on that Raphael could very well be indirectly sleeping with you—having sex while Haarlep is in your form—and you CAN FEEL IT AS IT’S HAPPENING. But you’re STILL! NOT! TECHNICALLY! HAVING! SEX! WITH! RAPHAEL!
If I had to guess, Larian probably couldn’t figure out how to reasonably fit a Raphael romance into the story or just simply didn’t see it as a priority. Which I totally get, but why not a “one night stand” option like you get with Mizora? Imo, Raphael has so much more chemistry with the Tav than Mizora, and yet there’s no possibility to so much as flirt with him in the game!! It feels like Larian is dangling Raphael in front of his fans like forbidden fruit!! Are they aware of this?? DO THEY ENJOY OUR SUFFERING
I'd been thinking about a "day in the life" of post-game Liora and Zev. This has been on my mind for AGES. This family is so sweet it makes me sick. 🥰 I'm so attached to my Tavs but Liora is my favorite. One day I'll remember a picture so these actually get traction.
Feedback is always appreciated! 😊
Fog usually rolls in from the coast before dawn, leaving beads in the grass, clinging to the low fences and posts, and turning the world pale. Liora is already awake. Baby Ralthir is tied to her chest in a wrap. He’s so warm and heavy with sleep, one tiny fist knotted in her shirt. His little horns have just started growing in. She moves carefully and slowly—not because the ground is damp and slippery, but because she knows how sound travels this early, and she’s not one to wake anyone else up. The chickens mumble and grumble in their coop, offended at her being late with breakfast.
The bard hums as she works. Not a performance, though—just a thread of melody to keep herself company and to keep Ral asleep. It’s a habit she’s always had. This one is one of Alfira’s tunes from years ago. The sheep stamps impatiently, waiting for her turn for breakfast, unimpressed with the tune, as Liora collects the eggs.
Valcis, the six-year-old, is the first to wake up. The boy was always an early riser, even when he was a baby. A shy and gentle child, he loves helping Liora with the animals. The floorboards of the deck creak slightly as he makes his way outside.
“Vally, baby, it’s so early,” Liora says quietly with a smile, giving him a kiss on the top of his head. “Go back to bed, love.”
“I couldn’t sleep, mum,” he says softly, rubbing his eyes, “I want to help.”
“Alright, sweetheart. Could you take this bucket and put it back in the shed for me?”
He takes the bucket from her and trots off.
“Thank you, darling.”
They work together for some time, feeding the rest of the animals and checking on some of the crops. She shows him which parts of the fence they should keep an eye on to fix later and how often they should check the water, and she even let him try to milk the cow, Veera.
“Remember how I showed you. And be gentle with her.”
“This is so weird!” he chuckled.
“You get used to it.”
Ral begins to squirm and coo as they begin to make their way back inside. The fresh milk goes in the icebox until later, and the eggs go in a basket on the countertop. They’re greeted in the kitchen first by Amon, four, already awake and talking out loud about everything and nothing. Little Nevara, two, is right behind him, clutching her blanket and blinking tiredly at the light just starting to streak through the trees into the kitchen.
“Shhhh…,” Liora murmurs, through a smile, “Your father is still asleep.”
As if summoned by the mere thought, Zevlor appears around the doorframe in his undershirt and trousers, hair unbound and yawning with a stretch. “He’s not anymore,” he says sleepily, with a chuckle. He leans in and plants a kiss on Liora as he takes baby Ral from his cocoon. In a few hours, Zevlor will be the usual polished-steel authority figure that he always is as a Marshal of the Watch. For now, he’s just a man with tired eyes and a baby’s sock stuck to the hem of his trousers.
Breakfast is simple. Bread, eggs, and some fruits that need to be used up. Liora also boils some water for coffee for Zevlor. It’s a relatively expensive commodity, even here in the Gate, but they’d recently gotten a very rare roast from Tashalar as an anniversary gift from Rolan and Gale. Amon insists on pouring his own milk and spills some of it. No one scolds. Ral fully wakes up and cries, annoyed at just the mere idea of being awake. Liora takes him from Zevlor and makes sure he gets breakfast, too. He and the rest of the family clean up the kitchen, Amon and Nevara splashing each other at the washbasin in the corner. Their laughter cuts through the morning like bells.
When the sun finally does come out, the fog dissipates. Zevlor dresses in the mudroom, donning his armor piece by piece. The children watch like it’s a ritual—and it is. As Zevlor finishes dressing, he repeats his Oath quieter than a whisper.
I swear by the hand that I hold, and the children who carry our name.
I am their shield and their sword.
No shadow will fall across them unchallenged,
No hand will be raised against them unanswered.
I will come back to them, or I will die facing what would harm them.
This is my vow.
He lets Valcis finish the last buckles on his bracers as usual. Amon salutes him wildly as he stands up. Nevara hides behind Liora’s skirt, peeking out.
“Daddy looks so different in his armor, doesn’t he?” she says, gently stroking the little girl's hair. She giggles and hides again.
He kisses them all, last of all the baby, who grabs his finger with surprising strength.
“I’ll be back home by dusk,” he says with a careful promise. With everything they’ve been through, nothing is ever certain.
“I love you,” she tells him with a smile. She never lets him leave the house without saying it.
“I love you more,” he replies, kissing the back of her hand.
Liora’s late morning and afternoon pass in fragments. Hanging laundry while the children chase each other through the tall grass. She puts Veera and the mule, Pickles, out in the pasture. Later, she weeds the garden with the baby asleep, humming to herself again, practicing something new. This one is about tides and waiting. It’s rough and unfinished, but that’s alright.
By late afternoon, it’s starting to get warmer. The kids are starting to feel tired and hungry. They decide on a small lunch of leftover sausages, some homemade cheese, and fresh vegetables. The milk from the morning is turned into milk for tomorrow. She uses the cream skimmed off to make butter for later. Somewhere, the city exists, but here it’s still quiet and peaceful.
Toward the evening, Liora lights the hearth and gets things ready for dinner. Valcis helps by washing the vegetables while she brings the mule and cow in for the night and makes sure the animals have their dinners as well. When she returns inside, Valcis is still in the kitchen, Amon is playing with his toys in the den and singing to himself, and Navvy and Ralthir are snuggled next to each other napping on the settee.
When Zevlor returns home, the light is a rich amber, and low in the sky. His armor is dusty now, and there’s a new cut on his knuckle. He washes his hands quickly at the basin in the mud room before coming in, as if leaving the city at the door, and slips off his armor. A quick prestidigitation, and it’s as shiny as it ever was.
“Daddy’s home!” comes from the den as the children run to the door to greet him.
They eat together. They talk about small things. In the den, the children climb on Zevlor like he’s a mountain. He bears their weight like it’s nothing—like this is exactly where he’s meant to be. Liora laughs from the armchair, gently rocking as Ralthir clings to her chest.
Later, after the house has finally gone quiet and the children are all tucked in their beds, Liora sits on the back porch with her husband. She sings softly, a song meant just for him. Zevlor's head is in her lap, eyes closed, listening like a man still relearning peace as she gently runs her fingers through his hair.
The fog will come again by morning, but tonight lasts forever.
I gave him Gale’s Wizardly Updo (the long version) and had trouble getting his hair color right and I also need more horn mods so I can get his actual horns and photo mode on PS5 is annoying but I don’t care, I’m absolutely FERAL over this look.
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