#raphael bg3 fanfic

[cambion-companion]

Like Snuggling a Venus Fly Trap

Raphael x reader drabble | 18+ only light smut

Wherein you get utterly ensnared in a certain cambion's arms...and legs...and tail...and wings...and uh other extremities.

You lay slumbering, warm and bare of skin, your legs entangled with the much longer limbs of your infernal lover.

Raphael stirred where he too slept, pressed tight as he was against your back. His arms wrapped around your torso and chest, the sharp nails of his hands digging into your soft flesh already marked with the evidence of his claim to you.

The movement of him pulling you closer to his chest, hot as an infernal engine, roused you from your deep sleep. You began to wriggle a little, trying to shift his strong arm just enough to allow you to breathe unrestricted.

Raphael exhaled warm breath against your ear before nuzzling deeper against the crook of your neck and shoulder. You made a noise of reproach as his sharp teeth skimmed your sensitive skin, like a sleepy warning. "Stop moving." His voice was even more seductive with that rough edge of just regaining consciousness.

"I can't breathe." You complained, almost upset about his tight hold upon your body.

"You will manage." His tail snaked around your thighs and with little effort dragged your legs to press flush against him.

"Raphael..."

"Hush." With a surprisingly soft sensation, Raphael draped his wing down upon both of your bodies, cocooning you in a haze of velvet scarlet.

You couldn't move even if you wanted to. His large hands skimmed down over the dip of your waist and explored the rise and fall of your breath.

You felt him smile against your neck, enjoying your little quick intakes of air as his long fingers began coaxing between your closed thighs.

The softness of your body was a constant allure to Raphael, though he would never admit such a thing to you. With a soft hiss he pressed his hips against your supple backside.

He felt the vibrations of your moans against the hand which cupped your throat, tilting your head back so he could watch your expression. Not to kiss, not yet. But to observe how you reacted as he took you again, locked so tightly in his embrace it appeared as though he'd consumed you.

Your fingers pressed against the tough flesh of his leathery wing, your mouth falling agape as he moved against your trapped body. His tail keeping your legs tightly closed as he shifted his thigh over your hip, the ridge of his knee leaving yet another bruise to mark you as his prized possession.

Raphael's movements became deep and frantic. It wasn't long before you felt his heat spill into your body, causing you to tremble and fall apart in response. You were helpless in his iron grip as waves of pleasure broke over you. His name fell from your lips until he silenced you with his mouth, his tongue almost choking you in its intensity.

He remained inside you, long after your bodies had stilled and cooled somewhat. You didn't mind, the stretch had become familiar, almost a comfort. It felt good to be wanted, to be desired, even if it was as a plaything, a means to an end. You wanted him, in whatever form you were allowed.

So you slept; evidence of his bruising kisses littering your soft skin, his tail flicking lazily against the curve of your hip as he dreamed. His wing remained around you, curling in slightly to tuck against the front of your body, the sharp talon just barely framing your cheek.

Trapped in the arms of your devil, you smiled in your sleep. Content and at peace upon his infernal bed. The bed you'd made for yourself and now enjoyed to every extent for as long as you were afforded.

[bitethedevil]

More Than Our Fathers (Raphael x Demigod!Reader): Chapter 1

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five

Read this on AO3

Summary: It was in the years after the Fall of Netheril that fate decided to push the two of you together: the daughter of the God of Divination and the son of the Archdevil of the Eighth. An unlikely pair, but you learned throughout the years that you had more in common than you thought: you were both driven by ambition and you both longed to become more than what your fathers made you.

Word count: 4,968

(Notes: Note that the Reader is named. Her (your) name is Sibylla. I just need to name my characters, I can't even explain it. It literally just means 'Prophetess', if that helps. There is a lot of lore in this one and you can see me explain more in depth on AO3 if you care about it. I'm so excited for this one. For once, I've actually got everything planned instead of my usual 'fuck it we ball' attitude to fics. This chapter is essentially the backstory of their relationship. The majority of the plot will take place from the time of the BG3 canon events. We just have to speed through 1600 years of backstory before that lol)

You were the daughter of a mortal woman and the god Savras. Your father had many titles: Savras the All-Seeing, the Lord of Divination, He of the Third Eye. Once a mortal wizard with an exceptional talent for the art of divination, Savras ascended and became the god of wizards.

You were blessed to have been old enough to remember your father’s greatness and cursed to live long enough to see his fall.

Savras the All-Seeing had been challenged by the powerful mortal wizard, Azuth, and lost. Azuth rose to power as your father fell. It is said that he lost on purpose because he saw something in his visions that was yet to happen. It was a decision that many of his faithful worshippers said demonstrated the wisdom and insight of their god. Wisdom and insight, they called it…You called it docility and wasted potential.

Azuth imprisoned your father in a magical artifact that would later be known as the Scepter of Savras, in the hopes that he could harness Savras’ powers and use them for himself. The scepter disappeared before Azuth’s plan could come to fruition. More than a thousand years after the imprisonment of Savras, the scepter was found and Azuth agreed to release him if he swore a pledge of fealty to him. Savras accepted.

Unfortunately, the scepter displaced itself immediately after Savras’s release, taking with it the majority of his divine powers. Once again, the Scepter of Savras had disappeared and it continues to be lost, constantly moving, with only a chosen of Savras or someone with a touch of the divine being able to wield it. Someone like you.

After his fall, Savras went from being the god of wizards, to the god of divination. He became little more than Mystra and Azuth’s lapdog. A mere shadow of his former glory. You had never been close with your father, but his downfall made him a disappointment to you. After he fell, you felt ashamed to be related to someone as foolish as him. He had wasted his potential.

A potential that you would happily exploit yourself, should you ever get your hands on the Scepter of Savras and claim your father’s old powers…

You were born with an innate gift for divination magic. It made you a sorcerer by technicality, though you would eventually study and become a powerful wizard as well, following in your father’s footsteps. Sorcerers were widely looked down upon by the wizards that made up for most of the population of the city you were born in, though you had been a special case because your father was still the god of wizards at the time.  

Your powers allowed you glimpses into the future. Your visions were quite random, though they became clearer with age, and you had found a way to strengthen them: by physical touch. When touching another person’s skin, you were able to look at the threads of fate and time that bound them: their past, their present, their future. You only needed to know what to look for.

You were born in the kingdom of Halruaa. It was the same place your father had once lived before he ascended and became a god. It was a land of magic in the southern part of Faerûn. The magocracy of Halruaa had once been created by Archwizards who had foreseen the fall of Netheril and fled the empire.

You yourself had been born a few hundred years after Netheril’s Fall, but you vividly remembered the stories of Karsus’s Folly that were told to you by some of the old Netherese refugees. It was because of one of those survivors that your own threads of fate were to be bound to Raphael’s.

It was about 250 years after Karsus’s Folly and some hundred years before your father would fall to Azuth in battle. You were at the very beginning of your immortal life. Your mother had died when you were just a child. A 500-year-old wizard by the name Melesmer had taken you in and he became like a grandfather to you. You looked up to him, listened to his endless reminiscing about Netheril and clung to every piece of wisdom he bestowed upon you.

Melesmer was most likely the last person alive to give first-person accounts of the old empire at that point, but he was also at the end of his time. Old age was starting to eat at him despite the magic that had slowed his aging. When you were only twenty, you had seen him die peacefully in his bed in one of your visions. You knew you only had a year or two left with him, but you did not have the heart to tell him that.

Melesmer spoke Halruaan like you, but the more his old age started to eat at his memory, the more he started rambling to himself in Netherese. Sometimes it seemed as if he had completely forgotten everything around him and found himself back in Netheril. You had learned just enough of the Netherese language to understand what he was saying over and over again:

“They are screaming and crying…” he would mumble in Netherese while his eyes looked empty. “The children. They are under the rubble. Our children…”

You had one day come home from the market and you heard the sounds of talking coming from inside the house. There was nothing odd about that in itself. You were used to young apprentice wizards visiting Melesmer every now and again. They would often be seeking out the old wizard’s wisdom or wanting to listen to the stories he told of the old empire.

What made you stop in your tracks, was the fact that they were speaking in the common tongue. Melesmer never managed to adopt the same skepticism towards foreigners that was commonplace for the born and bred Halruaans who feared that outsiders would come and steal their magical secrets.

You put down what you had in your hands to go and see who this foreigner was that was visiting.

You entered the room and the man in front of Melesmer looked up at you briefly. The man looked young, around twenty like yourself. He had brown hair, brown eyes and was dressed in expensive Halruaan silks, no doubt in an attempt to fit in with the local customs. The young man gave you a brief polite smile before turning his attention back on Melesmer.

There was something odd about the stranger and you felt it immediately. You put your hand on Melesmer’s shoulder, to interrupt his talking and ask him about his guest.

“Grandfather,” You greeted in Halruaan and then nodded to the stranger. “Who is this man that you are talking to?”

“Sibylla, dearest,” Melesmer answered in Halruaan. “This man has travelled far to hear about the fall of Netheril and Netherese magic.”

“Raphael,” Melesmer said in the common tongue, addressing the stranger. “This is my ward, my pride, Sibylla. She is the greatest seer in Halruaa there have been since her father became a god and left the city all those years ago.”

“Grandfather,” You said sternly, warning him not to speak any more of it in front of this stranger.

“Is that so?” Raphael asked. His eyes had lit up by what Melesmer had said, and his smile widened. He got to his feet and walked closer to you.

“I swear it,” Melesmer said, the old man’s voice full of pride and his soft features turned into a bright smile.

“What an honor,” Raphael said and took your hand. “It’s not every day that one meets the daughter of a god.”

Raphael looked you in the eyes and placed a kiss on your hand.

You took the opportunity of the touch to figure out who he was and what he wanted.

When Raphael touched you, a vision flashed behind your eyes, and you saw what he really was. You withdrew your hand from him immediately, as if you had been burned.

“Leave,” you hissed at him. Magic was crackling around your fingertips in warning.

Raphael smirked at your realization.

“Grandfather, this man is a devil. This vermin is taking you for an old fool,” you said to Melesmer while not taking your eyes of Raphael for a second. “He is a son of Mephistopheles himself.”

By his reaction, Raphael seemed to at least know the Halruaan word for ‘devil’, and his smug expression faltered slightly at hearing his father’s name. Melesmer blinked in confusion and looked at Raphael.

“It is quite rude to talk over one’s guests. Especially in another language. My Halruaan is rather unpracticed these days, so I will simply assume that whatever you said was a compliment,” Raphael said smoothly with a tight-lipped smile and narrowed eyes. “I am not here to harm anyone…I am merely seeking information.”

“You’re seeking the Crown of Karsus,” you said to him.

Raphael looked genuinely taken aback for a second, but quickly returned to his smug self.

“I am…” he said.

“Your father has it in his vault where it will stay for at least a thousand years more,” you said coldly. “You’ve got more than what you came for, cambion. Leave.”

He looked at the ground as if in thought for a moment and a flash of fury washed over his face, though you got the sense that his anger was not pointed at you. His fists clenched and his eye twitched slightly before he looked up at you one last time.

That look sent another vision through you, this time manifested through a feeling: familiarity. This would not be the last time you saw him.

“Thank you…” Raphael grumbled and then snapped his fingers. He disappeared in a flash of smoke and embers.

You would not see each other again for another couple of hundred years, but ever since that day the devil was keeping an eye on you.

You changed a lot as you grew older. After your father’s fall, you completely discarded his teachings and dogma. You were not supposed to use your sight to further the goals of others or to meddle with fate, and you were also supposed to only ever tell the truth of your visions. You threw it all away and started your new life, cutting the already fragile and barely-there bond to Savras.

You had long since left Halruaa behind. Your services became well sought after and your reputation as a powerful seeress quickly spread throughout Faerûn. Your reputation often proceeded you whenever you arrived in a new city, and you rarely ever had to seek out your clients yourself.

You whispered in the ears of dukes, emperors, and kings, ensuring their rise or their downfall, depending on how you felt about them and how they could further your goals or fill your gold purse. It came with enormous power. A few whispers in the right ears could mean the rise to power for one person, while hiding parts of the truth could make another walk carelessly into their own doom.

Even though you were a savior to some and a villain to others, it never changed how many wanted your help. Your luck was that dead clients usually could not complain about your services and if anyone dared to question how your earlier clients met their demise, you would simply tell them that they did not heed your warnings.

You quickly became well-known and your recognizable features, that spread both awe as well as fear amongst the smallfolk, worked to your advantage. You had the silver hair and ghostly pale eyes of your father.

The widespread myth about you went that your ghostly appearance was caused by you looking into the future and seeing something that terrified you so much that your eyes and hair lost their color. What you had ‘seen’ varied depending on the region you were in, you noticed. Some say you had seen your own death, some the end of the world, while others had a whole third wilder theory. You never had it in you to tell them you were simply born that way.

It pleased you to no longer be known as Sibylla, the daughter of Savras. You were simply Sibylla the Seeress, now. Your own person and removed from your father, who you hoped would be forgotten to time eventually.

It was in the then young city of Athkatla in Amn, that you would run into Raphael again, a few hundred years after your first meeting. Your client in the city was amongst one of the city’s most powerful men. A rich merchant by the name of Bernard Barth.

Barth was an old and greedy man who had grown paranoid in his last days. He was certain that the younger rising star amongst the city tradesmen, Garrick Mordell, was out to steal his place amongst the nobility of the city.

Barth was an excruciatingly frustrating client. He was a loud, opinionated, and stubborn man. His son, who would one day take over his father’s business, was even worse. They were the perfect image of the overindulgent upper class. It was so clear that they had never had to struggle a day in their life, and it irked you, but the Barth family’s generous payment for your services were more than enough to sway you to stay.

You were sitting in Barth’s opulent office, and the two of you were waiting for someone. You had seen who would be joining you in your visions: a middle-aged dark-haired stranger. You did not think much of it before the man entered the room.

You immediately recognized that there was something about him. He dressed like all the other upper-class citizens of Amn, but you could have sworn that he looked familiar. As if you had seen him somewhere else, though you could not quite put your finger on it and no visions sprang to your mind.

“Raphael,” Barth lazily mumbled in greeting. “You’re late.”

“Saer Barth,” the man greeted with a bow and a smile. “My deepest apologies.”

That voice and that name. You had definitely met this man before, but where? You would have to touch him to learn more about him.

You rose from your chair and held out a hand to him.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met before,” you said with a smile. “Sibylla.”

“Raphael. A pleasure to meet you,” Raphael said with a smile and shook your hand.

Your brow furrowed slightly when no visions came to your mind at the touch. You looked down and noticed that he was wearing gloves. You kept smiling politely but your eyes narrowed at him. He looked at your expression with a teasing smile, before sitting down and turning his attention to Barth.

You were barely listening to what Barth was rambling about. He wanted Raphael’s help for getting rid of his competitor, though you could not figure out how exactly. All you learned were that Raphael seemed like a man who had good connections. Besides that, it sounded like Barth’s usual paranoid speeches about Lord Mordell’s rise, so you tuned him out.

You were much more interested in who this man was. He seemed so familiar and yet it escaped you who he could be. Your eyes kept drifting to Raphael as you tried to place his face in your mind. At some point he caught you looking. He looked back at you with a knowing smirk, which only made you even more frustrated.

He knew who you were, there was no doubt about it, you thought. Now you had to figure out who he was. If only you could somehow touch him, if only for a brief moment.

“That’s the short of it,” Barth grunted after rambling for about an hour. “We will reconvene tomorrow and see if you can come up with a solution. Leave me.”

Barth waved the both of you away with his usual rude and entitled manner that you had grown so accustomed to. You both left the room, and you walked slightly faster to catch up with Raphael.

“Saer,” you called to him. “A moment of your time, please.”

Raphael turned around and faced you with a smile.

“Yes?”

You got a chance to study his face a bit closer, but it still did not ring any bells. There was just an overwhelming sense of familiarity.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” you said. It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Have we?” Raphael asked with a mock innocent expression. “I am quite certain that I would recall if I had met someone like you before.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. A look in his eyes told you that he was playing with you.  

“Yes, we have,” you said. “Who are you?”

His smile widened.

You got frustrated and reached out to grab him, trying to pull his gloves off or get your fingers under his coat.

“My! Aren’t you eager?” Raphael laughed and raised his arms so that you could not reach them. “I did notice how you were stealing glances at me in there. I’m afraid I’m not interested, dear.”

You reached out to touch his face instead, but he dodged it.

“We know each other!” you said stubbornly and pointed at his face.

He laughed at your frustration.

“So insistent,” Raphael said and pulled off his glove.

He held his hand out to you, and you took it. A vision passed your mind’s eye. Your eyes widened in recognition. Then your brow furrowed, and you looked him up and down.

“A pleasure to see you again,” he said smoothly.

“You got…old?” you said with a slight sneer. “You looked younger when we last met. I thought your sort didn’t age.”

“I look more matured, not old and we do not. My appearance is by choice,” Raphael explained.

“Why would anyone choose to look old?” you asked. “Eternal youth is one of the few upsides of immortality.”

“I do not look…” Raphael closed his eyes and sighed, before changing the subject. “You are taking all this in stride it seems. I would have expected more hostility from you once you remembered me. Not at all that fiery young girl I remember meeting all those centuries ago, it seems.”

“Things changed,” you said with a shrug. “I’m just trying to make a living. Same as you, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” he said with a smile before changing the subject. “I heard about what happened to your dear father. The great All-Seeing robbed of his place in the Heavens and trapped in a stick that no one seems to be able to locate. What a shame.”

“A scepter, not a ‘stick’,” you said. “What’s it to you?”

“I merely wanted to offer my deepest condolences,” Raphael said with a smile that showed the complete opposite meaning of his words. “I do wonder if this is the reason for this little rebellious streak of yours. I hear all sorts of surprising things about you these days, little goddess. Recently, I’ve heard rumors about a certain powerful noble in the city of Illusk whose family met a quite brutal death when a horde of orcs had invaded the city district that he ruled over…”

Your pale eyes narrowed at him. You knew exactly what he was talking about, but he should not be able to know about that.

“So?” you asked with slight shrug and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Don’t play dumb, dear,” Raphael purred. “He was a client of yours, was he not?”

“He was,” you said. “And?”

“One has to wonder why you neglected warning him about this. I also find it such an odd coincidence that the High Captain of the city seemed so well-prepared for the assault, though he did not spring to action before after the horde had marched through your client’s district. The High Captain who, coincidentally of course, was also known to be very outspoken about his low opinion of your client.”

“Yes,” you said with another shrug, smiling. “What an odd coincidence.”

“Isn’t it just?” Raphael said with feigned wonder.

You looked him up and down. You had to at least be impressed by the fact that he had managed to do his research so well.

“I told the High Captain, and he offered me a small fortune if I did not warn my client of the assault,” you admitted. “As I said…I’m just trying to make a living…”

Raphael chuckled.

“My dear, you would put some devils to shame,” he said. “I wonder what old Savras would think if he knew what his daughter were up to.”

“Couldn’t care less,” you said coldly and avoided the subject. “Are you spying on me or something?”

“’Spying’ is such a cynical term. I’m keeping an eye on you, yes,” Raphael said. “You seem like a useful person to know. Not to mention, I find you deeply fascinating. Especially now that you are no longer clinging to the boring and rigid dogma of your father.”

It irked you that he kept mentioning Savras. Especially when his own relationship with his father seemed to be at least as messy as your own, from what you saw when you touched him.

“You keep bringing up my father,” you said with annoyance and defensiveness. “Should we talk about yours instead? I saw plenty of interesting things to talk about when I touched you.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Raphael said with a hint of annoyance, though still smiling.

“I thought not,” you said with a smile. “What are you doing here? Out for old Barth’s soul?”

“Did your little visions fail to reveal my intentions to you?” Raphael asked.

“What I saw was a mess of contradictions, which suggests that you are undecided on the matter, so no,” you said and looked him up and down. “All I really care about is if you intend to kill my current employer.”

Raphael smiled.

“Would you be opposed to it if I was?” he asked.

You raised an eyebrow at that. There might be an opportunity here, you thought.

“In principle, no. Let the old bastard rot in the Hells for my sake,” you answered coldly in a lowered voice in case anyone was eavesdropping. “Though the old bastard in question is still paying me a ridiculous amount of money, so what do you have to offer in return if I let you?”

Raphael’s smile widened.

“Perhaps, you and I are not so different after all,” Raphael said in a lowered voice as well. “You help me procure the soul of both old and young Barth, and I will give you all of the gold that Lord Mordell has offered me in exchange for their demise.”

Your eyes widened a bit at the revelation. Perhaps Barth had not been as overly paranoid as you had thought. Mordell really was out to get him it seemed. Though Raphael must have been instrumental to his plans because you had not seen any threats of Barth’s demise in your visions yet.

“How much gold are we talking?” you asked.

“Fifteen thousand,” Raphael answered casually.

Your jaw almost fell to the floor. That was twice the amount you had managed to squeeze out of Barth during all your time with him. At the time, it was enough gold to buy a house or two.

“And you would just hand that over to me?” you asked in disbelief. “I find that very difficult to believe.”

“I’m a devil, dear. Gold is of little use to me. The economy of the Hells runs on souls…” Raphael explained.

You studied him for a moment. You were interested in the idea, but you had to make sure that you were not letting him somehow rope you into a deal. You would also have to be sure that this would not be traced back to you.

“I will encourage them to sign your deal. You will pay me half before their death and the rest after. I don’t care how you mean to kill them, but make sure it’s not too messy and it can’t be traced back to me. You will also leave their wives and children alive…gods know they’ve suffered enough by having to deal with those two idiots…And I am also not signing anything.”

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” Raphael said with a smile. “Fine. We have an agreement.”

As soon as you received the vision of your client’s demise, you left the city. You were staying in an inn, well on your way to Esmeltaran when Raphael popped up out of nowhere. You jumped at his sudden presence. He snapped his fingers and a bag of gold appeared on the nightstand. He looked around your room before seating himself in an armchair.

“Not quite living accommodations befitting a demigoddess, I would say,” Raphael said while looking around at the shabby room of the inn you were staying in.

“I don’t like staying in one place too long,” you said. “You’ve handed me the payment...”

“I have,” he said with a smile and snapped a bottle of Amnian dessert wine and two glasses into existence.

“So…” you said and made a shooing motion with your hands. “Go. Leave.”

“Is that any way to treat a business partner?” Raphael asked and feigned offense. “Where are your manners?”

Raphael smiled at you and held out a glass of wine. You looked him up and down and reluctantly took it.

“To us,” he said and clinked glasses with you.

You were looking at him with a deadpan expression.

“You are getting off on this, aren’t you?” you asked. “The fact that you managed to strike a deal with a demigod. That’s why you keep talking about it, isn’t it?”

“Perish the thought,” Raphael said and sipped his wine. “Can I not simply be thrilled about managing to strengthen the bond between myself and an incredibly useful acquaintance?”

You rolled your eyes and sipped the wine.

“This is a one-time thing,” you said. “And I would really appreciate if you stopped spying on me.”

“You are making it very difficult for me to do so when you are so fascinating to spy on,” he said. “I don’t see why we should not do this again. I think you would find it quite useful to have friends in low places with the direction you are currently headed in, dear. We could be good for each other.”

“I can see how my moral compass is a bit all over the place at the moment, but that does not mean I want to work with you, cambion,” you said and sipped your wine.

“You keep calling me that, as if it is meant as a slight. I am what I am…Although I do much prefer the term ‘devil’,” Raphael said. “I have long since raised above the station of a simple cambion.”

“I’m sure you prefer that, but it doesn’t make you any less of a cambion,” you said. “You are a half-mortal, like me, and there is no running from it. You are no more a devil than I am a god.”

“What a depressing way to view things,” Raphael mused and swirled the wine in his glass. “We are what our father’s made us, are we not? It is their blood that ensures that we are still alive, where had we been mortals, we would be long dead. It is their blood and the powers granted through it that has gotten us here. It is evident to anyone that there is nothing mortal about us, and yet you cling to the notion. Do you really think that we cannot be the same as our fathers, if not one day more than them, simply because we were once carried in mortal wombs?”

What he had said struck a chord, but you were never going to admit that to him.

“Thank you for the wine…and the philosophy lesson,” you said in a stern tone. “You should go.”

Raphael smiled at your urgency to get rid of him.

“I am sure you will warm up to me eventually,” he said. “We have an eternity to get to know each other, after all.”

His persistence was starting to truly infuriate you. You were not going to be business partners, or even acquaintances, with a fiend. You had heard all the stories about the vermin of the Lower Planes, and you did not want to be associated with them. It was beneath you.

“No,” you quickly said and emptied your wineglass before putting it on the table. Your eyes turned threatening. “You will leave me alone after this, do you understand? I am not interested.”

He chuckled at your growing hostility.

“Or what?” he asked with a smile. “Will you smite me, little goddess? I am at least a couple of thousand years your senior, do you really think you could take me?”

Raphael walked closer to you until he was right in front of your face. He was still wearing his smug smile.

Your eyes had turned thunderous at the blatant provocation, and magic was crackling over the skin of your hands in warning. Raphael looked down at your hands, without moving his head.

“Should we find out?” you asked with a tight smile.

His eyes drifted from your hands and back to your face. He was still smiling as his eyes went from the smile on your lips to your pale eyes. You saw a hint of admiration in his eyes. He lifted his hand, ready to snap.

“We will see each other again, Sibylla,” he said in a low voice and then snapped.

He disappeared in a flash of smoke and embers. 

[reverieblondie]

Raphael ravaging Haarlep while the incubus is wearing Tav's form?

You all are going to give me heart palpations with all these Raphael prompts in my box. This...this is one had me feeling A TYPE OF WAY! when I was rereading it, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Mouse

Raphael x Haarlep in Fem!Tav form

Word count: 1,995

Raphael is getting tired of Haarlep's little games; Raphael knows they have been with someone sneaking through his house. It's been days since he felt what he did, but when he demanded to know who, Haarlep wasn't willing to give away their secret…

"Aww, still refusing to play with me…" Haarlep coos in Raphael's ear. 

Raphael rolls his eyes, closing his book. He turns to the incubus, smirking on their knees, tail wagging eagerly. Taking a long breath, Raphael casts his book aside. "From my understanding, you have been getting in lots of playtime."

"Still irritated by that? Raphael, jealousy is not a good look on you." 

"Not jealous; I just don't like when people go through my things. Or when my things won't tell me what they have been doing…" 

Haarlep pouts, "So I'm being punished all because I made her a promise…" Raphael's eyes widen at the slip; Haarlep shrugs, looking away with a smirk. "Oops…" 

Before Haarlep can slide away, Raphael grabs Haarlep's hair and pulls them close. "Looks like you slipped…and if it's who I think it is…you better show me."

Raphael let's go and let's Haarlep get off the large bed. Then with a glimmering flourish, Raphael watches as his form disappears in the bright light to be replaced with…hers, "Mouse…" He can't help but feel completely entranced by the view of Tav's body beautifully bare to him. Sliding off the bed, Raphael takes everything in; that feeling, that sweet shiver of arousal, was from you. Little mouse… running around his house. Was she looking for him or something else? Raphael feels his heart racing at every thought, but then there is an unfamiliarity with the circumstances of what this means. A storm swirls through him: anger at you sneaking into his house, jealousy that Haarlep got to taste his mouse before he could take a bite, and excitement at what he can do for payback that will make you stir. 

Haarlep sees the storm brewing behind Raphael's brown eyes; they feel so satisfied with themselves, watching Raphael crumble from seeing your form.

"What's the matter? Surprised Raph-"  Raphael's hand is covering their mouth before they can finish. 

"I want you to talk like her…What did she say, do?" 

Raphael removes his hand slowly, and Haarlep lifts a brow before clearing their voice and speaking, "Well, this is a change, Raphael…" 

Raphael feels a shiver of heat go down his spine, It's that sweet voice he has been playing in his mind on a loop. It's like you're actually here, with him in his house of hope. All he can think now is how much he wants to ravage your body, to make Tav feel like he does…

Like Haarlep could read his mind, they reach out to him, your soft hands running up his silk robe, tracing his chest. Fingertips touching the hair of his partly exposed chest. "Feels like a man…" Haarlep drops their hands to pull the robe's tie, letting the silk material slip off him. His cock already stiff making Haarlep chuckle, "But I know what lies underneath."

A deep growl can't help but rumble deep within Raphael's chest. A burst of bright flames surrounds him, changing him into his cambion form, now towering over Tav's body. Raphael's large hand cups your face so softly and delicately, making the fantasy feel even more real to him. Leaning down, he whispers in Tav's ear, warm hand caressing their skin, Breathing hot in their ear, "Tell me what happened, every detail…" 

Haarlep grins and wraps their arms around Raphael's neck, "She was blushing so beautifully. Your sweet little mouse, she wanted to know how your kisses felt, sweet really…" 

Raphael slowly moves his hot hands down, tracing your delicate neck, "You cruel thing. You probably laughed at her…" 

Raphael brings his lips to kiss along your jaw, pulling your form closer to press against his erection. Closing his eyes, he focused on Haarlep imitating your breathing; it's perfect… It's like you're really here. 

"Of course I did; the way she pouted was quite pathetic. I, of course, kissed her with all kinds of passion; little mouse's toes were curling from that alone." 

Raphael grabs Haarleeps face and presses his hot lips to Tavs glossy soft ones, Haarlep plays the part perfectly imitating how timidly you had started in the kiss till finally Rapheal is pushing his eager tongue through the seam of your lips letting himself guide and get drunk on the feeling of your tongue against his. Breaking from the kiss, Raphael looks down at your smirking form. Raphael starts roaming his hands over your curves, his lips kissing and sucking against your skin as he slowly descends, listening to Haarleps hums. 

“You really like her…don’t you…” Raphael pauses, his lips pressed to your hip bone. He darts his hot tongue to taste the sweat on your skin before speaking, "Shut up…" 

Haarlep caresses Raphael's cheek, "look at you… You're practically on your knees for her…a mortal…" 

Raphael lets out a growl before tossing your body to his bed. Haarlep giggles as they bounce against the bed, eating up the rise they are getting from Raphael. Sitting up on their elbows, they watch as Rapheal crawls to your body, glowing eyes looking like those of a predator. Before Haarlep can say another taunting word, Raphael grabs your ankle, flipping Haarlep around to their stomach. Haarlep adjusts to their knees as Rapheal enjoys the view of your ass in the air and your cunt so slick. Raphael groans to himself, mouth watering at the sight. "I intend to devour her…"

"Oh, I bet…" 

Raphael lets out a small chuckle before leaning into your puffy cunt, placing a chaste kiss on your clit, letting his tongue slip to your dripping entrance gathering your want on his burning tongue. He relishes in the taste for a moment before pulling back and swatting your ass, making Haarlep jump. 

"Can she feel me…" 

Haarlep arches their back more slightly, swaying their ass, "I'm sure she is trembling as we speak…" 

Raphael smirks, amused, as he slowly strokes his cock, groaning at the thought of you currently at your camp, hiding away in your tent, touching yourself. Leaning over your form, his hot cock nudging between your slick folds as his velvet voice whispers in your ear. "Show me how she sounded…" 

Haarlep mickes your soft moans, “M-more…Please…I want to feel it AH~” 

Raphael moves his cock faster between your folds, getting coated in the beautiful cyprine weeping down from your cunt. The tip of his cock kissing your clit with every mind-numbing nudge, his precum sticking to your cute little clit mixing in with your arousal. Raphael takes his thumb and gathers the sweet release before he pulls Haarlep up by your hair and slathers it to their lips, feeling Haarleps eager tongue licking and sucking on Raphael's thumb, moaning for more, and they rub your ass further on their master's groin. 

Raphael pushes Haarlep back down; they mimic your panting breaths and your soft moans while they shove two fingers into your pretty little slit. Raphael swats away their hands before slipping his cock in you in one swift motion. It's so fucking wet and snug, his mouth waters at the thought of you right now…so full of him and so frustrated…are you rubbing your cunt on your pillow? Fingering yourself with two fingers trying so hard to reach those deep spots…Poor mouse, he would help you; you're his favorite, after all. 

Rapheals rolls his hips as he digs his nails into your waist, pulling to his tip and then slamming you back down, relishing in how Haarlep gasps for air every time. Their cunt squeezing him with every thrust. "R-Raphael, ah~ I'm so so full!"  

Raphael smirks as he leans down, keeping his pace, "Mmm, My mouse said that?" he questions Haarlep as he places kisses down your spine, his hands moving to your breast to pinch your nipples and tug roughly to get Haarlep to answer. 

Haarlep chuckles and bites their lip, "Well, substitute the name, but yes…I fucked her tight cunt stretching it to your cock, S-she st-studders, and ah~ Ah~ cries when F-fucked!" Rapheals rhythm speeds up, and his grip tightens. Your noises, your voice, he wants it for himself; he wants to witness your flushed face, your bouncing breast as he reclaims you for his own. Haarlep had you; now it's his turn; he will make the incubus watch from the side, then make them lick up your messy cunt when he spills his seed in you. 

The thought of your puff cunt dribbling out his thick seed is all he can think of as he keeps slamming his cock into your gummy walls. He wants to go deeper, abuse your cunt till your womb is opened for him so he can fill you up, "Gonna fill you up…fuck my spawn into your tight cunt…keep you full forever." Your pussy has his cock in a vise grip as his cock throbs his rutting driving deeper into you. Though he is pounding your pussy,  his hands turn to more caressing. His hands roam over your perfect form, your skin like silk, your sweet smell he wants to always have lingering on him, then your voice, crying out his name and moaning so cutely, it's better then any composition he's heard before.

Raphael feels his cock nudging against your would-be cervix; he brings his hand around to your stomach, where he feels his cock. Pressing on it, he groans from the feeling and your fucking mewing. That's when Haarlep starts to feel Rapheals veins pulsing on his cock, the sensation warming your velvet walls and threatening the release of their arousal to flood against his cock, though Haarlep knows better than to cum before Rapheal wants it…

As Rapheal's pace gets sloppy, so does his breathing, and so does his mind…

“My Mouse…you feel like perfection…” He licks against your neck, littering it with kisses and nips as his fingers come to rub against Haarlep's swollen clit, so sticky from your fluids flooding over them. 

"Rapheal, M-My devil…Ah, please..ah, please!" 

Raphael growls at the sounds of your begging, fuck, he wants to hear it endlessly, your sweet submission as he finally ravishes you fully. "Cum for me…let it wash over you…let me feel it…"

With a loud cry, your fucking your hips back onto him as you feel the overwhelming heat rushing through your veins of your orgasm.  Raphael cums right after you, his cock throbbing as it pushes out his thick cum deep into you. He groans and steadily tries to catch his Breath as his length stays buried within you. Whisper praises are sung into your skin before he slowly pulls out of you, his hand rubbing your stomach tenderly as he does. 

Raphael wraps his arms around your small form and brings you to his chest, his nose buried in your hair as the smell of the sex slowly starts to dissipate from the boudoir. In this moment of peace, he begins to feel your body shake, followed by a familiar laugh. It's still your body but no longer your voice from the vessel. Haarlep smirks, looking up at the devil, "So tender for the little mouse… I'm sure she would be very receptive to your…cuddling." They can hardly get through the sentence before bursting with laughter. 

Raphael goes to say something as he pushes Haarlep away when he senses something…a visitor? Haarlep goes to continue their teasing when Raphael slams his massive hand over their face shhing them. 

Everything is quiet for a moment before the sound of loud crashing and slamming doors comes from the halls. "Where are they!" your voice yells through the house. Haarleps' eyes widen in delight as Raphael watches the door in anticipation…his tail slightly swaying in excitement…. It looks like they made you hot and bothered, perfect.

[darlingdekarios]

abandon all hope.

RATING: explicit. 18+ only. — LENGTH: 9,131— Raphael x f![warlock]tav [reader]

CONTENT: being a patron is being a sugar daddy/mommy you can't change my mind, set during Act II canon, small amounts of alcohol consumption, toxic behavior/ expressions of possession/ownership, "fluff", SMUT [unprotected p in v], KINK(S) [praise kink, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting, scratching/clawing, blood, breath play, dacryphilia, just a little degredation, size], there's a lot of poetry in here I did my best, Haarlep cameo, the least Raphael could've done for killing an Orthon for him is fuck us ffs, have fun thinking Raphael is bad at sex I'm built different, this got out so out of hand

you had become his absolute favorite - his most precious client and prized treasure. it's become increasingly difficult not to admit that you're truly his forever...and he's ready to hear it.

"In a world of horrors where shadows loom, A tiny creature navigates through certain doom. A little mouse, determination in its eye, Hoping this will not be its last heard lullaby."

It would be a lie to say that very voice didn't send the most delightful of shivers down your spine each time it announced his presence to you - you hung on each syllable like he was speaking a new language you were desperate to understand. Though your back was turned to him as the corners of your lips twitched upward you could feel in your soul - the one that no longer belonged to you - that he knew.

Though you may have been doing your best to feign disinterest and even often annoyance at his dramatics, it was no secret that you found him amusing. Fortunately, he happened to feel rather the same, a creeping mirth building in his chest at this familiar performance you were putting on.

"Just when I was beginning to miss your theatrics."

It was only then he realized just how badly he'd yearned to hear your voice again in the time since it had last swam into his ears. Curiously - but perhaps not at all - he felt his mouth go temporarily dry as his next rehearsed verse fell from his mind momentarily. When his silence lingered you filled it gracefully as you knelt before a bucket of water, scrubbing your arms free of the blood that covered them as you worked off the most uncomfortable parts of your armor.

His stumble did not last forever - his practiced words would not go to waste.

"With the battle fought and her patron's foe slain, She has etched upon her weary soul so very much strain. With a gentleness most sincere, the Patron offers her rest. Her wearied body, soon at peace even in her mind, No longer bound by battles' fierce behest, Their worries, for a moment, left entirely behind.

For the strongest heroes, too, do need a moment's grace, To find their strength renewed in the tenderest embrace."

Though his continued lack of transparency was frustrating, particularly after the stretch of days you'd had at his bidding, you noticed the practice lilt in his words, the methodic delivery of his latest poem.

"Have you been practicing poetry for me again, my Lord?" your tone was filled to the brim with the very amusement you felt, amusement that was growing by the moment at the slight waver in his voice, the subtlest indication that now was one of few times his trademark control had faltered. "I must tell you, it really is quite sweet. I've never inspired such before."

Your pleasantries and a title you so rarely chose for him stirred a feeling oh-so rare and delicious in him, a tingle up his spine that spread a wicked grin across his face. Exhausted, and uncaring of the company at the moment you continued your work on seeking your own comfort, continuing to peel armor away from your figure and toss it to the side.

Maybe you knew the lack of attention would agonize him - maybe that was only just more amusement for you. Annoyingly, he was attempting to bury the desires as he always did around you, finding now that the feelings stirring were beginning to gnaw their way out from the inside.

"You flatter me with honorifics yet ignore my presence."

His words had the slightest bit of edge to them and yet the tone in which they were delivered could be described as little more than a purr. It was a tone you'd discovered was reserved to fall on your ears alone - he never spoke to you this way in company, though you didn't doubt others existed that were fortunate enough to hear it. It was delicious - made more-so by the sharpness to them, the gentle bite that warned his limits were being tested.

The fact you only heard it when you were alone meant you seldom travelled with companions for too long, discarding them when your interests were no longer the central focus. It was lonely, but few wanted to be at your side when they discovered the source of your power, and the moments like this reaffirmed your decision each and every time.

"In a land of shadows shrouded with a curse most horrific, Lies a weary hero, hoping her devil might be more specific. For if she doesn't soon rest, Her weary body will be for the shadows to ingest."

There was no denying the radiance and allure in his laughter - it rang out so beautifully it didn't fit in a place like this, it almost wasn't fair for such a joyous sound to ring out in such a cursed land. Now, you couldn't help yourself - you turned to face him with a light smile pulling at your lips, exhaustion written on your face accentuated by the blood of those you'd slain in his name.

It pulled at his heart, something that seldom occurred - you were truly always a sight like this, in his eyes at least.

"Your skills increase tenfold each time we meet," he complimented, the smile settling on his face matched by the pull of the wrinkles beside his eyes. "You were successful in your latest task."

It was a statement - not a question, the wordless affirmation of his continued faith in your abilities. Still, you could've given him a snarky response - the blood covering your body and armor wasn't enough of a clue for him? In truth, though, you'd began to enjoy the moments where he complimented you - even more the rare moment he actually thanked you.

"As always," your coy tone was the final act to try to hide the giddiness you felt now, as well as the fatigue that was slowly overtaking your body. When was the last time you had eaten? When he left would you simply remove the rest of your armor and do your best to build a fire and lay beside it, or would you simply make do with the cold ground beneath you now?

He could sense it; he knew exactly what was on your mind. In truth, your thoughts were mirrored in his - this was no place for someone of your caliber to rest, especially not when you'd been so very good for him already. He'd heard about your camp, of course, but seeing it for himself - well, it really was quite awful.

A snap of his fingers and once again you were in the House of Hope, the unmistakeable extravagant decor a much better sight than the lands you'd been traveling. Though it was a bathroom where you appeared it was already enough to almost bring tears to your eyes - it smelled delightful, a bath was already drawn with bubbles and filling the room with the warmest steam. Unsurprising was the small table beside it filled with fruits, meats, cheeses and wine that made a fresh rumble sound in your stomach.

"It is so very fortunate your generous patron is willing to reward a valiant effort, would you not agree?"

You huffed a breath through your nose as a smile spread further across your fae, heat rising in cheeks as you returned your gaze to his. "And who said devils are selfish?"

His beautiful laughter filled your ears again, the warmth radiating from the fireplace and the bath nothing compared to that which engulfed you just hearing the sound so entirely for you. His movements were smooth as he made his way to the small table, pouring a glass of wine with ease while his eyes stayed on you the entire time.

"You have undertaken quite the ordeal on my behalf, you deserve a proper display of my abundant appreciation," there was the unmistakable purr of sultriness beneath his tone, his strides predatory as he made his way back to you, eyes running up and down your entire frame again before settling on your eyes. "And a bath, though I do so worship the vision of my dark hero covered in the blood of my enemies."

"You show your appreciation by providing me my power."

"And yet," the pause lingered heavily - if you weren't so keen on enjoying everything he had to offer you there would probably be a quip about holding for drama, but now you only looked up at him with wide doe eyes - eager and expectant and deliciously obedient. "I find myself curiously wanting to provide you with more."

The look that was blooming in his eyes was a peculiar one - one of a fondness. He slipped behind you gracefully, one of his hands reaching to grasp your hip and turn you to face an ornate mirror before his arm fully encircled your waist, drawing you back toward his chest. His hand slipped up your body, avoiding any part that would have been too inappropriate to touch without express permission, to grasp your chin, holding your face gently but firmly as he angled it to look in the ornate mirror before you.

"The longer you have my power reflected in your eyes, the more beautiful you become. Wouldn't you agree? You are radiant."

Now it was impossible to pass off the heat that had risen in you as nothing more than the heat from the bath - with his hand just beneath your chin on your neck and his claws digging ever-so-slightly into your skin, the heat had begin to pool at your core. You were still trying to remain focused, to maintain the aura of strength you almost never allowed to falter…particularly around him. But with him pressed to your back and his eyes devouring you in the mirror like a feral animal with a long-awaited meal, there were certain signs from your body that gave you away.

The elevated heart rate. The blown pupils. The pull of your bottom lip between your teeth.

It didn't take any amount of perception to see the signs that were so plainly there, particularly not for a devil who was eager to look for them.

"As you've pointed out, I'm covered in blood."

"A testament to our combined strength, my pet," you were certain with the intensity with which he was staring into your eyes' reflection in the mirror that he had stopped blinking, finding an unchanging face each time your eyes closed briefly. "Do you mind?"

He was offering you the wine glass to free up his hand or to distract yours - it was impossible to tell, really. Regardless of the intent you reached for it, taking a drink and relishing the familiar fire this particular wine ignited in your throat and belly.

Meanwhile his free hand was lightly trailing over the bow to the back laces of your clothing, giving a subtle tug to seek permission as his eyes continued to burn into yours in the mirror. With a nod the laces fell free under the quick work of his fingers - it was somewhat endearing that you knew he could do this with the snap of his fingers, yet he was choosing to do it himself, to peel you apart with his own hands. What you'd been wearing pooled to the ground and revealed the aftermath of your battle in full, all of the bruises and scratches and burns that had no place there…unless they were given by him or on his word.

His hands found your shoulders first and with a familiar warmth your injuries became another part of your past, his eyes trailing up and down your body to ensure all that remained was evidence of injuries not belonging to you.

"Positively resplendent," his breath was hot on your neck as he angled his face closer to yours, his nose brushing behind your ear softly. "A painting of this image would be so suitable for a portrait of us, wouldn't you agree?"

Bravery - it was a characteristic of yours that he cherished nearly more than any other, one that provided endless entertainment (and often worry, though he was hardly eager to admit that). It was the very trait that sometimes pushed you to do or say the very last thing he expected, and yet you still managed to take him by surprise. Even now in his domain was one of those times, your face unwavering and intention resolute as you spoke.

"Not in this form."

All he'd offer in his momentary shock was a raised eyebrow before these features faded and he transformed to the figure he was meant for, wings stretching behind his back as he got more comfortable. This is how he was meant to look - how the two of you were supposed to appear together, the devil and his toy hero, you and the source of your growing power. It would take blindness not to see the radiance with which you two joined together, and even then it was palpable in the air.

Ignoring the many feelings and tensions that crackled between the two of you when you were together was difficult - and growing more impossible by the day.

"This is suitable for the foyer."

He continued to lean down behind you, swallowing you with his true height so he could press a singular kiss behind your ear before straightening his back, his hand that was still flat against your now fluttering stomach pulling you against him tighter. Your skin burned where his lips had graced it - tingling as though his the action was magic. Your body only continued to respond to him with all of the tell-tale signs: a rising temperature, parted lips, blown pupils, quicker breath.

He so adored that you were trying to maintain control - to maintain an unbothered façade.

"You prefer me this way."

It left his mouth as a statement, but you caught the subtle insecurity at the tail of the sentence, the way his words slightly trailed and his eyes flashed with a truth - and hope? - that was so rarely seen.

Was he afraid of your answer?

"You don't need to wear a mask around me," you were quick to silence his doubt and eager to put out a particular fire that threatened everything around it boiling beneath his surface. Your sincerity and sensitivity was hardly what had initially drawn him to you - he loved that you'd always been willing to tell him your mind without a care to whom you were speaking, even himself included at times. "You would know that I preferred you this way if you spoke to me yourself more often instead of sending your little spy."

Suddenly you understood the meaning of the phrase "devilish grin" in a new light.

"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?" he purred as he leaned down toward you again, his breath tickling the back of your ear and neck and his claws dug into your hip slightly. You tried to ignore the flare of heat within you, unwilling to admit it fully quite yet. "A flicker of envy, so very subtle but clear."

You huffed and rolled your eyes in response to his taunt, annoyed he could think of a rhyme so quickly and a charming one at that, and even more annoyed that it worked. Bards.

"Korilla does not enjoy the same…benefits you do," he continued when you offered nothing in response but the puff of air, a reticent hum vibrating in your chest as you raised the cool glass to your lips to take another drink. Your eyes met his in the mirror again as you realized how long they'd been focusing on his hands, allowing your gaze to stay connected as you continued to drink.

Of course, he was hardly one to leave a silence unfilled for long.

"And what of my own feelings?" he questioned, the twitch in his jaw accentuating the frustration behind his words that he was trying to tame. "So many people you meet these days and you haven't shared with a single one where you get your power…"

It was hard to focus on a conversation like this when his claws were now grazing lower down your thigh, red lines painting your skin the evidence the Cambion's claws had been there. In the mirror you could see how he lovingly soaked in the sight of each new mark - of each new claim of his territory. You'd have far more decorations from him by the time you returned to your own camp.

"What am I supposed to think other than you're ashamed of me?"

"No," the rejection of his insinuation came from your lips faster than any reply you'd given before by far, a fact that ticked his lips into a slight smile. Though the two of you teased anda taunted one another often, you were always well aware of the line before you stepped over it. "They wouldn't understand."

"They don't have to understand…they have to respect. Besides, it's not their soul to be bothered with, and you're hardly the only warlock in your little party."

"But they won't. With the Blade of Frontiers it is different…he had no choice, not really. I did - I could've chosen anything else…anyone else. And I chose you."

"Then you will make them."

You could hear the commanding tone he rarely needed to take with you begin to form in his words, a low grumble rumbling against your chest as he spoke. At this point you knew what little remained of his patience was so close to slipping away completely - but you still couldn't stop yourself from testing those tempestuous waters just a bit more.

After all, he needed you alive just as much as you needed him. Harm too serious coming your way was out of the question, and the proof you could take a bit of pain was in the stories that would be told about you and your adventures for years to come.

"It's just another contract to you. What difference does it make?"

The final impertinent word left your lips as his hand grabbed your chin, applying pressure and encouraging you to face him. He loomed over you in this form - a delicious fact - his skin noticeably hotter against yours as he leaned closer, trapping you between his body and the wall. Flames danced in his eyes, the raging inferno matching the temporary flare of anger he felt ignited in his chest. His grip on your face was resolute, thumb and forefinger grasping so hard your cheeks were squished together.

That would certainly keep you from further insult.

"I am so very fond of you, my impudent little mouse. Can you not see that is so?"

You'd been in many dangerous - increasingly so - situations recently, but the fact this one was one of the most was…invigorating. Invigorating in the same way as when he'd first approached you with a deal, in the way he'd complimented a job well done for the first time, in the way he was overjoyed when you returned from your kidnapping. In truth - because you were not foolish enough to deny what was a plainly writ fact - you were well aware you belonged to him in every aspect of the word. It was fun to test what boundaries a relationship like that presented.

Your heart was thudding against your chest harder and faster by the moment as he continued to regard you, fully aware you couldn't respond to his question through the hold he maintained on your face.

"I will not hear more of your ill-mannered mouth while I am being such a gracious host. You are far from 'just another' anything to me…"

There was a sincerity in his words that shattered any possibility of refute.

"…and I will not tolerate our attachment being hidden any longer."

A threat, or a promise? Both were equally exhilarating in their own way. With the expression on his face - furrowed brows, pinched nose, set jaw, and nostrils flaring with each breath - his feelings toward the situation were written plain on his face. He was done arguing - and you'd be foolish to push it.

"Perhaps I could have a collar fashioned for you that only I can remove."

His hand that still held your waist pulled you closer, a muscular tail winding around your lower legs to hold you against him. One of his legs slotted between your thighs as you pressed to him closer, hands clinging to his upper arms still. His face softened somewhat at the closeness, at the shaky breath that slipped past your lips as your eyes stayed oh-so focused on the way his curved into a wicked grin the more the thought blossomed in his mind.

"One that will burn you should you even try to remove it. Or perhaps better yet, a curse," as he spoke you found yourself drawn closer, entranced by the hardness in his pants that pressed to your waist now, chasing a kiss you weren't certain he'd give. "Or I could use hellfire to brand a symbol of my name beneath your eye - small enough not to ruin your beauty, large enough that everyone who sees you knows that you are mine."

He released his hold on your face only to drop his hand lower, lightly gripping your neck in a silent show of power. He regarded your expression carefully for any sign of distress and only grinned wider when he instead found observed your blown pupils and parted lips, his fingertips soaking in your accelerated pulse beneath them.

The fire in his tone sizzled for a moment, still lingering in each word but not quite as fearsome as even just a moment before. Sweet, almost - if you didn't know any better to see through the charm.

"Swear to me anew," he cooed, his thumb rubbing along the side of your neck as he spoke, eyes gazing at you with an expression that could only be described in adoration. The most temperamental volcano, fury subsided as fast as it'd come. When there was an offer to be presented, he could truly be oh-so-sweet. "An amendment to our existing contract. You are not to hide that we are joined together, or you will face consequences that will last forever."

Did it matter if you even truly had the option to refuse him when all you wanted to do was please him again? The proposition of more appreciation, the promise of his praise. That fact alone was enough to ensure your answer before you'd given it.

You nodded in understanding - specifics beyond what he'd stated weren't needed to convey the weight of his words.

"On one condition."

The bravery again - though your voice was more meek as you rightfully walked the fiery embers before you, navigating what you knew could still erupt again if you pressed too much harder again. To prove your point his eyebrow raised in annoyance, nose threatening to scrunch upward in frustration before you elaborated.

"We seal this contract with a kiss."

An expression that had almost been rage morphed into perplexity before a laugh burst from his chest, your mind lost in the sound and the view of his fangs, thoughts wandering somewhere fittingly sinful for your surroundings.

"And you talk about my theatrics."

Despite his taunting he brought you closer with his iron grip on your waist, the hand holding your neck still sliding up to your cheek as his thumb claw grazed along your bottom lip in passing. He looked at you like a child receiving a new toy, regarded you with an adoration often seen in temples.

And then, though there was still a subtle laugh shaking his chest, he held you reverently as he angled his head toward you. The rest of his expression as he approached would go unnoticed as your eyes slipped shut, holding your breath in anticipation…which he exploited for just a moment longer than was necessary before he finally gave you what you both wanted.

Your lips met like the strike of a match - the spark between flint and stone. It burned like frostbite and was over just as soon as it'd begun, taking your remaining breath with it.

It was a purr that rumbled in his chest as he ran his nose along your jaw that reminded you to breathe, his lips pressing a kiss over a pulse point on your neck pulling a gasp from your lungs as his hand slipped down the other side of your neck. Holding you like an artifact his fangs teased the skin on the spot for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened further, the tips of his claws threatening to break skin.

He withdrew before his composure melted, filling his chest with a deep breath to bring himself to full sense again.

"Come. I'm far from through with you, but you truly do need a bath."

It was…nice, which didn't quite seem wholly appropriate considering who he was and the fact the atmosphere had been threatening and tense only moments before. He sank into the tub first, motioning for you to join him by taking place between his legs. There was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that all of this was because he wanted something - everything possible from you, and that he knew the best way to reach his goal was to manipulate.

The fact you were aware of it did little to stop you from enjoying it.

He made sure he ate and drank in a silence you didn't know he was capable of as his hands made work cleaning your body, a bath in the House of Hope proving to be a lavish experience as the water remained pristine and hot no matter how long it went on.

*(Though, it certainly could've just been the heat between your bodies sustaining the temperature).

It was the first time you'd truly relaxed since a tadpole had taken residence in your mind, the first moment of bliss in days. When his claws found your scalp and scratched against it lightly as he massaged soap into it he earned a thank you in the form of the sweetest moan that just couldn't be held back by your lips. You felt his cock twitch against your back at the sound, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.

"My, my…who knew you could sound so melodic, my dear," his tone was best described as a condescending coo, treasuring the way you melted in his hold and couldn't help yourself from being his to play with. "I want to hear much more of you."

One of his hands slipped from your head down to rest on your stomach as the other went even lower to the top of your thigh, pausing still to wait for your reaction. When you leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes he took his sign, chasing more of a reaction from you by running a single claw softly up your thigh toward your core. The small gasp that fell from your lips wasn't enough, his disapproval noted with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was impossible to keep silent when one of his fingers connected to your clit, rubbing a swift circle quickly.

The cry that burst from your chest returned the smile to his face, a low laugh filling your ears again as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. Two of his fingers parted your folds as they slipped downward to your entrance, moans falling freely from your mouth you'd forgotten how to close. Taking advantage of the fact he leaned closer to claim your lips, reaching his free hand to hold the back of your head and ensure you couldn't pull away from him.

A dark possessiveness within him considered slipping his fingers into you to feel how your tight walls would grip him, though he knew it meant you would face the consequences of his claws. He could heal you, after all - but you'd always remember the feeling. He'd refrain on that particular thought…

For now.

Instead, he returned his attention to your clit, fingers circling the sensitive nub as his fingers tangled into your hair. He continued to kiss you past what your lungs could take, your eyes opening to attempt to gain his attention. His own eyes remained closed and he only held your head in a firmer grip - no doubt he knew though he couldn't see - and he continued that way until your vision was just starting to blur and your hole was clenching around nothing. Only then did he release you - releasing you fully by pulling his fingers away too - allowing you to take the breath you needed.

So close to the edge of release only to be pulled back away from it. It was a cruelty that made the first sound that left your lips when your breath returned to be a whimper.

"Please," you could barely get the shaking word through your lips, it could hardly be considered speaking when each letter was filled with a whine. "More."

"Now now, you will learn to take what I give you," he cooed, releasing his hold on your head to run the back of his fingers down the side of your face and neck, lightly pushing your head to the side to press a kiss beneath your ear. "With no questions asked. Won't you? You'll have to show me you can be patient."

You couldn't help the whimper that slipped past your lips again, your body singularly focused on its need for more. Your eyes are wide and desperate as you gazed at him, hands reaching to grasp at his thighs and squeeze. "'s not fair…"

Your ears were filled with his boisterous laugh again before he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, allowing his lips to stay against your skin as he spoke.

"Perhaps not for you, but it's perfectly lovely for me," you realized as he spoke that he was having fun, a giddiness in every word that proved it. Unrehearsed, without anger, without practiced intentions. Him. "Finish up in here at your leisure, then join me in the boudoir."

With a snap of his fingers he was gone and the option to beg for more removed you were alone, left to wonder exactly what awaited you when you did join him. The kind of excitement that matched the feelings of fear and anxiety bubbled in your stomach, making your movements a little clumsy as you navigated your way through one last wash of your body.

The feelings remained as you removed yourself from the water, realizing immediately you'd been left with no towel or robe or clothes to utilize on your walk. Feeling a flare of preemptive embarrassment you found your way to the hall, doing your best to navigate quickly as you muttered to yourself.

You were distracted in your search that you didn't notice Haarlep had stalked up to you from the dark after you'd passed until their voice filled your ears. "My, my, aren't you just delicious," he purred, continuing to walk closer toward you when you froze in your tracks. They circled you like a predator circled prey, like a painter studying their subject - it was enough to make your face burn again. "I wouldn't mind slipping into your image for the occasional rendezvous."

"Haarlep."

Their name left your lips as a gasp and they stopped in front of you with a wicked smile, handsome and proud and no doubt every bit as convincing as their Master, if not more. "So you do know me. How flattering."

You were cornered against a wall with one of their forearms resting next to your head, the other grasping your hip in fingers much gentler than the ones they were mimicking. They leaned closer until your lips were brushing together feather light, the anticipation of a kiss lingering heavy in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing again.

"Oh, what fun we will have together…"

Their sinful tongue left their mouth to lick the seam of your lips until they fell open, the muscle slipping into your mouth to kiss you fully and hungrily. As you swallowed their spit you started to feel new levels need, the definition of the word insatiable finally grasped in your mind. One of their knees knocked apart your legs as their hand left your thigh, slipping to examine how wet you were and finding their digits slid through your folds with embarrassing ease.

"Mm…but that will be for another time," there was a sincerity in their words that made them so believable and you were certain they were correct about it. "Tonight, your job is to make him a bit more tolerable for the rest of us. Be a good pet and behave, won't you?"

As they sauntered away in a pace that existed to entice you to follow they threw one last wink over their shoulder, pointing you in the direction of where you were meant to go. In a haze you made your way to your destination, opening the doors to find your Patron sitting on the grand bed with glistening satin sheets, lounging back against the headboard with his arms outstretched, waiting for your arrival. He'd covered himself with an expensive robe, the one he'd deprived you of.

The red of its fine fabric matched his burning aura perfectly.

He observed your clumsy movements as you closed the doors with light amusement until the two of you were once again alone, his eyes appreciating your clean form as you walked to the foot of the bed. With a smile he raised a hand to motion you forward with one finger, his features fittingly illuminated by the hellfires that illuminated the room.

He was beautiful. Enticing. This very room could become an easy prison with no locked door if you allowed your resolve to slip.

"Come," he invited in a delicious tone, using one hand to untie his robe and allow it to fall open. He patted his thigh afterward to further elaborate on his instruction, one you were more than willing to follow. "Crawl to me…show me what an obedient, eager little pup you can be."

You did exactly as he told you to, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets against your skin as you made your way to him. You climbed into his lap and straddled his waist between your thighs, core hovering over his hard and throbbing cock that you now wanted more than logic should reasonably allow. He felt how wet you were when your thighs made contact with his skin, breathing in deep to take in the scent of your arousal.

"My, my, how very eager you are," he spoke of you as if he was being presented with the meal of a lifetime. It made you feel desired in ways you weren't sure you'd be able to experience with anyone else for the remainder of your life. "I have to wonder, did my naughty toy find you along the way?"

You nodded, the only response you found yourself capable of, grinding down against his waist in a way that allowed his length to slip through your folds and spread your slick. His hands grasped your hips to follow your movements, chest vibrating against yours with a quiet purr as he appreciated your movements.

"Oh, of course they did…sometimes they just can't help it, the sinful thing…"

Both of his hands found their way to your thighs to grab them roughly, not making any effort to be mindful about his claws in places it wouldn't seriously hurt you - something that would become a pattern for the rest of your time together. Under his fingertips he could feel the welts that raised as a result of his scratching, smiling a charming smile as he took in your expression.

Finding you perfectly needy for him he reached one hand to grab your jaw and pull you closer, leaving his face hovering inches from yours. His skin was noticeably hotter against yours now, the undeniable evidence that he was just as effected by your closeness as you were his. His other hand gave your ass a swat to encourage you to raise up on your knees again, licking his lips when he could then reach toward your core and run his fingers through your folds again.

It was easier to feel the arousal he - and Haarlep, now - had earned when you weren't submerged in a tub. His fingers took the distance from your hole to your swollen clit painfully slow, matching the deep inhale he filled his lungs with along the way. Lost in how his hands felt against your body again you hardly noticed his tail wrap around one of your legs to hold you against him tighter, ensuring there was no chance of you climbing off before he'd had his fill.

It was hardly something he needed to do, but the implications of it made the experience all the better for him - and for you too.

"Don't forget to speak to me, my dear," he cooed, no annoyance present in his voice though he was hardly happy he had to remind you as he exercised a bit of patience at your current state. "I simply adore hearing the desperation in your words."

"Please, I need…"

Though he'd requested them your words were cut off as he pulled you against him rougher, pressing his throbbing length up into her core as he does. Your sentence quickly turned into a moan, your hands grabbing at his shoulders so you could cling to him in every sense of the word.

"Do go on."

You hated that his taunting tone sent a shiver down your spine and a hot wave of arousal straight to your core. Your desperation flooded every word that came from your mouth. "I need more," you were begging without having to be asked for it, something he would thank you for at a later time. "Something…a-anything you'll give me."

"Anything I'll give you?"

Was that particular choice of words a mistake? You found you couldn't come to a rational answer as you became lost in the embers of his eyes. You nodded, grinding against him to further your consent and ensure the point was driven home - you wanted him in whatever capacity he'd provide, in any way that would earn you more of his favor.

You hadn't realized your lip was quivering and your eyes were slightly watering out of the desperation but he had, soaking in the sight of you so wanton and lustful for him. It was his favorite look on you by far, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to see how truly indecent he could make you behave.

And all for him.

"Then prove to me you deserve it. Prove to me you're worth the effort from me and then I will prove to you that you are mine."

You only leaned closer to entice him the rest of the distance between you. You reached between your bodies with one hand to grasp his cock and rub it through your folds again, lining it up with your entrance and teasing down onto the tip slightly to test what he'd allow. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to express a thought that disappeared as you began to sink onto him, maintaining the eye contact you knew he loved as you moaned out his name quietly. He forgave you when your eyes fluttered closed to focus on taking his length and girth, your forehead falling down against his shoulder as a heavy breath fell from your lips.

"That's it," he was quick to compliment your efforts to ensure you knew how much he appreciated it, hoping the praise would keep you from giving up. "You can take me. Do not get discouraged…"

Your head nodded as another steady breath left your chest, shifting your hips to find the right angle to take him in. Though his words were honied you knew he was hardly the patient type and to avoid a temper change you pushed yourself onto as much of his length as you could take, finally earning a groan from him that was worth the quick shot of pain that being stretched like this brought. One of his arms reached to wrap around your waist and his other hand found the back of your head, cradling you against his form. His wings soon joined, wrapping both of you in privacy and what felt like the ultimate safety.

Within his wings it would be impossible for anyone who entered to see how well you began to ride him after a long adjustment period, how after several minutes of grinding and shifting and allowing him to pump into you you began to take him perfectly. Though he maintained his hold on your head your lips were finding their way to any place they could reach on his neck, chest, and jaw, eagerly nibbling and licking and sucking - testing if you could mark him like he'd undoubtedly mark you.

He decided you were testing him when you bit into him hard, his surprise announced by a grunt and a squeeze from his hand holding your hip. He gave your hair a tug to pull you upward into a hungry kiss, your moans joining together in the room as your hands grabbed his horns to hold him against you.

This is how he wanted you for him forever.

As your tongues danced your movements slowed, his hands meeting on your upper back to press your chest closer to his. Allowing you a partial breath he pulled away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure as his claws dragged slowly down your back, pressing harder the lower they reached as he experimented with what you'd allow. You were eager to prove exactly what he'd requested - you could take what he would give.

His own head dropped to claim one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple and flicking the nub several times before he changed his efforts to suck hard enough to bruise, glad he could stay here without a real breath for longer than what you may have previously experienced. He only pulled away to bite a mark into the soft flesh that immediately spilled some blood - as you continued to ride him exactly how you liked you either didn't notice or you didn't mind, either of which were fine by him.

"Very good," he purred, remembering how well you normally responded to his praise. He was thanked by a quiet moan and your walls tightening, fluttering around his length as he struck just the right cord in you. "Should I allow you release before I have my way with you?"

You were nodding before his sentence was fully complete and begging incoherently as your face buried into his neck again, continuing to lavish the skin with kisses. Your thighs began to shake at the mere thought of release, at how it would feel to gush around his length and how he would moan feeling you constrict him.

Whatever words he chose to give you permission were not fully understood, only their intent mattered. Though he wanted to pump into you at his own pace he allowed you to find release in this position yourself, happy it didn't take much longer for your walls to clamp around him and your head to throw back in ecstasy, your screams undoubtedly filling every wall in the house despite the closed door.

He held you down on his length as you spasmed through the high, enjoying the feeling of your body against his and focusing on how you felt held in his arms. He was always going to take what he wanted from you after you'd found this release but the longer he soaked in how small you were against his frame the more his own carnal desire began to take over his thoughts, a feral need building that wouldn't be long ignored.

"You have hold of me like an addiction," he breathed out heavy, shifting his hips beneath you - earning a whimper - wondering how much you'd truly be able to take. "So…unh…tight…"

Before you had fully returned to your senses he was pushing you onto your back, staying inside you with little effort and pinning you down with one hand on your stomach. His other hand rested at the base of your throat with his forearm beside your head, and just as your mind began to fathom how dangerous the position you were in was he kissed you slowly, silencing reason once again.

You could feel how sensitive you were as he pumped his length into you a few times - slowly to test your reaction. He pulled away from the kiss to examine your face, finding it filled with pleasure and overstimulation - traces of pain were there but you gave no indication he needed to stop.

"Do you think you can take what I will give you?"

His lips moved against yours sensually as he spoke, and you opened your mouth to answer for only a sob to be released. Instead you just nodded, hoping it would be enough in the circumstances and looking into his eyes with a pleading expression. He pressed a kiss to your bottom lip and pushed every inch you could take into you roughly, earning another sob that was muffled as he bit into your bottom lip enough to cause it to swell. He pulled away from the action with a wicked grin and savored your expression for a moment longer before this position came to an end.

He pulled out of you slowly, moving to stand next to the bed. In your haze you listened to him give you instructions to get on your knees and elbows, instructions you followed hastily on shaky limbs as he stroked his length watching you obey. When you were finally presenting yourself to him exactly how he wanted he mounted behind you, still grasping his length in one hand as his other reached forward to circle your dripping hole with two fingers.

"Precious. I will try not to break you."

His fingers were gone and replaced with his cock swiftly, his restraint gone as he thrusted in as far as he could, still trying to press further when he reached the end and smiling when the most beautiful cry filled the room from you. He groaned out deep as his hand found your stomach, pressing against it to hold you upward, reaching his other hand to slip the fingers that were coated in your slick into your mouth.

"So small beneath me," he breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss over one of the red welts he'd created on your back. He engulfed you in this position, you were at his complete mercy - all hope of being anything but his ever again gone. He would never give you up. "On your knees for me. Just where you should be."

He forgot to be somewhat gentle with you as he thrust into you at a feral pace - or perhaps he just didn't care how little you were able to move when he was through. He continued to kiss your neck, shoulders, and back in any place he could reach, his teeth marking your skin anywhere he could manage. His claws were just as helpful in regard to marking you, reaching to scratch at your thighs and back - until he focused his hand's attention on your ass, spanking and scratching and grabbing roughly as proved to give him additional leverage as he pounded into you.

He was already obsessed with the way you took him with moans and cries while ensuring you stayed in the position he'd molded you into, eyes transfixed on how your tight hole took his length. When this whole Absolute ordeal was taken care of at your hands, he'd happily take this sight every day.

"Look at you just taking me," his voice was shaking now, matching your legs once again. His hand left your stomach to squeeze your throat, accentuating the fact that you were truly just taking whatever he would give. "And you do it so well, you sweet thing."

Content with how marked you were for him his hands instead grasped your waist in the gentlest grasp he'd offered yet, not quite matching the ferocity at which he pounded into you. Through blurred vision you were half aware of the familiar figure that slipped into the room through the shadows, the incubus unable to keep away witnessing what was filling the House with the irresistible sounds of flesh smacking against flesh.

You didn't know if Raphael noticed - you didn't care. You doubted a complaint would be heard if you offered one, and they would leave after you'd reached your release and they'd heard your euphoria anyway.

(Though you did momentarily hope that sinful tongue they'd offered earlier could be put to a better use, though you knew your body would be spent by then).

"Give me another," he ordered, feeling how your body was tensing up again at the threat of release, eager to feel you snap again. "And I want to hear it…"

He reached to rub your clit again at a speed that matched his thrusts, eager to feel how tight you'd squeeze him when you came undone, already intoxicated by the way your velvet walls were fluttering around his length. He was taking what he wanted from your body at a roughness that would no doubt leave bruises for you to feel on the road to Baldur's Gate - he certainly wouldn't heal marks that were a gift from him covering your back and neck and causing you to walk with a limp that so clearly displayed you had coupled with him.

He let you fall to the bed fully, only finding he was able to pound into you harder as you laid flat on your stomach. Unwilling to have you pass out he grabbed your hair on the back of your head and pulled hard enough to force it back so you could continue to breathe, leaning his torso over yours until he could twist your head and claim your lips in a rough kiss. He was hungry - feral - fully lost in himself as he chased his own pleasure, releasing all inhibition as he found his release. The only warning it was coming was the sloppiness that overtook his thrusts as the end neared, a growl rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from your lips to instead bite into your shoulder.

His seed was molten as it filled you, overflowing past his length. As his release filled your womb his teeth broke your skin and he tasted your blood as he was lost in his pleasure. He'd crave its flavor that was entirely you just as often as he'd crave claiming your womb now, knowing the mark would show you were his.

He continued to pump into you slowly several more times, holding you still as you squirmed and whimpered from the overstimulation, hearing the shake in your breaths and sweet sounds that proved to him you were crying. When he decided to pull out completely his chest shook with a quiet, dark laugh, finding a comfortable position straddling over your ass. His hands were loving in the way a curator's were with art, running over your scratched and bitten back adoringly for several moments, fingertips tracing the marks that would last the longest. He leaned down to press a kiss to a particularly possessive bite mark before removing his weight from you, rolling you to your side to to check that you were still capable of coherency.

You blinked up at him with glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks proving he had been right about your tears. He leaned to press a single gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulled the blanket over your weak body. Selfish of a creature as he was, he was still capable of some semblance of aftercare - though that was it, it was enough from someone like him to someone like you.

"Well done, my dear. A wonderful demonstration of your devotion to me."

This praise - this tone. The very reason you'd do anything he asked, become anything he needed you to become. Anything he asked of you in a moment like this you'd provide. Part of you wondered how long it would take for him to exploit that fact.

"Next time you've behaved for me I will have Haarlep join us. They can lick my seed clean from you as I watch how you look beneath me."

(You'd think more on that particular promise later, when your mind was capable of wrapping around anything other than Raphael's finger again).

His new tone was undeniable and impossible to ignore, the reverence steeping every syllable enough to drown in them. Appreciation, worship. It was difficult to decide if being beneath him or hearing this newfound depth of praise was more fulfilling. You nuzzled closer to him still just barely conscious, physically submitting to the exhaustion that overtook every inch of yourself.

You nodded your head lazily in agreement before burrowing your face in his neck, enjoying the familiar scent of cherries, musk and sulphur that had come to mean power and protection to you. If you were lucky those sinful notes would linger in your senses in the coming day.

Though he was far from one to cuddle, he wasn't one to complain when presented with any show of mutual adoration from you, and he allowed his tail to drape across your legs in a subtle concession to your own desires.

Beyond that, he was still, but he was content.

"Rest," you were intoxicated with this voice, one you couldn't help but wonder how few beings had heard it, one free of any performance - honest, soft. "You will need it before you continue your journey. When you wake you'll be in camp with your cohorts, and when you reach the city again you will return to me."

In your last moments of consciousness, you remained his eager little pup.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

[pentuppen]

Kinda mad my no romance limit mod doesn't have the same effect...

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 1, In Which You Install The Mod

FOREWORD: inspired by this post

SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?

TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation

RATING: explicit

***

You hesitated for a moment before downloading this “Devil Wears Nada” mod. It felt slightly inappropriate, absurd as it may sound. There was something disrespectful about making Raphael deliver his final monologue in the nude.

Well, you would have to live with offending a bunch of pixels because you do want these screenshots. You put the salt and vinegar Pringles out of the way and wiped your fingers on a napkin before committing this digital sin.

Clickity-click-click. You dragged-and-dropped the mod where you wanted it to be and launched Steam. Now to load the saved game where you made the deal with the devil and gave him the crown of Karsus… pretty much any saved game really. 

Raphael had been spared in each one of your playthroughs.

A sigh escaped you when the devil still appeared fully clothed in the game; had something gone wrong? You double-checked, only to realize that you'd forgotten to activate the mod - odd, since you clearly remembered doing so. Leaving the game, you dragged the mod back into place.

On your phone, in the Devil's Den discord chat, you informed everyone of Raphael's stubborn refusal to undress.

MAKE HIM! came the immediate reply, followed by STRIP THE OLD MAN, accompanied by raunchy gifs. Couldn't help but grin at that.

Back in the game, you loaded an earlier save file and sank into your chair to watch Raphael emerge from the flames, clothed once again. “You son of a…”, you muttered to yourself. It was getting late anyway; this would be your last attempt before calling it a day. Tomorrow is Tuesday and thus another work day. 

“It won’t be long before you come knocking at my door”, Raphael said, looking straight at you from the wide screen. This wall-breaking sequence was brilliantly executed—you had to admit it—very eerie.

Raphael let out a deep, hearty laugh, head thrown back, pearly teeth glistening in orange-red lighting. You didn’t see this animation before. They must have added it with the latest patch, so you moved in closer. 

Handsome as sin, this devil - if he asked for your soul, you’d hand it over on a silver platter.

Suddenly, he fell silent for several seconds, staring directly at you from across the digital divide. You reached for the mouse to check if there was a glitch in the cutscene when Raphael's voice sliced through the silence.

“You are quite eager to see me naked, aren’t you? Naughty little mouse,” Raphael taunted.

What the fuck?

WHAT THE FUCK!?

You recoiled in shock and slammed your laptop shut. A shriek must have escaped your lips, but you were too stunned to notice. It took a moment for your heart to settle and for you to remember what date it was today.

A quick glance over the watch on your wrist confirmed: it was the first of April. April first, two thousand and twenty-four. 

It was an April Fool's joke from the modders.

Oh, fuck. Having recovered from the initial shock, you cautiously opened your notebook, only to be greeted by the familiar "ta-ta" outro. Oh, fuck. This is some kind of really fucked-up prank. How did they get this voice line?

AI, probably. Not probably. Definitely. There was no way they could have involved Andrew Wincott.

You scanned the game screen for any other surprises, but found none. Picking up your phone, you opened Discord and began recording a long voice message - your fingers too clammy to type.

The replies came soon after.

Haha, this is so fucked up, did they really do this? Hm. I have to try it myself. RECORD IT, RECORD IT PLEASE!

You stared at the loading screen but couldn't bring yourself to replay it. Instead, you searched “Raphael naked mod April joke” and clicked on the first Reddit thread that popped up. You didn't even bother to open it; a quick glance at the preview comment – “crazy I almost had a heart attack” – was more than enough.

Enough for today.

You quickly brushed your teeth in the bathroom and changed into short pajamas before glancing at the laptop on the other side of the room, its camera eye peering at you from across the room. You closed the shutter.

“Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you”, you read somewhere.

You tucked yourself into bed, phone in hand, blanket between your legs. Was it time for a quick stroll through selected Raphael / Tav bookmarks?

No. Well, maybe. The threesome with Haarlep, just a quick re-read to help you fall asleep quicker. You were creeped out, but not that creeped out. You’ve heard of such meta jokes before. Black & White did it, Metal Gear Solid did it, too. 

But still… they really should tag this sort of stuff.

Your nightly reading was progressing nicely; things were getting interesting - “the ridges of his devil cock stroking your sensitive walls” interesting. Your hand slid into your underwear, working your finger past your hair down to your clit. This scene was very well written, you could almost feel it, picture yourself spread open between Haarlep and Raphael. 

The smut got better and better right until your phone vibrated in your hand, and you dropped it on the blanket.

Unknown caller ID.

Don't answer it, came the panicked, irrational thought as it grabbed you in a chokehold. 

You stared at the screen - the call went on and on - and pushed it aside. Swiped to the right in one quick motion and heard an automated female voice:

"This call is from Europol. We would like to inform you that your identity card number has been misused. For further information please press 1."

You hung up immediately, recognizing this as one of those scam calls that had been making rounds throughout Europe recently. Your mum had received one too. 

Nothing to lose sleep over.

You put the phone down and turned your back to it, trying to calm down. Screw the fanfic, you were not in the mood anymore. Well, you were, but…

Another time. 

It took some time before you could relax, your gaze fixed on the blank wall in front of you, re-playing that cutscene all over again in your head, occasionally wandering to the large window looking out over the courtyard (what a pitch black night). 

Eventually, you did. 

As you drifted off to sleep, a voice whispered in your dream:

“You are quite eager to see me naked, aren’t you? Naughty little mouse”.

The silky soft voice was so lovely; it made you feel less alone. A small smile crossed your lips as you slept.

Yes, Raphael. Very eager indeed. 

Tomorrow. You’ll try again tomorrow.

NEXT: Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger

[dark-and-kawaii]

your writing makes me go so fucking feral dude oh my god

could i request a haarlep/reader and raphael/reader nsfw blurb or literally anything? i eat your writing up like it's my last meal

☆ Tʜᴇɪʀ Lᴏᴠᴇʟʏ Lɪᴛᴛʟᴇ Tᴏʏ ☆

₊˚⊹♡ Pᴀɪʀɪɴɢs: Haarlep x F!Tav/Reader ✧ Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

₊˚⊹♡ Cᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ: NSFW ✧ Soft Haarlep Towards End ✧ Possessive Raphael ✧ Filling You With So Much Cum Your Tummy Feels Full ✧ Big Pretty Ridged Cocks ✧ Breeding You ✧ Creampie ✧ Stretching You Nicely

₊˚⊹♡ Nᴏᴛᴇ: Awh ♡ ♡ ♡ Thank You So Much For Enjoying My Work xoxo!!! I Did Both Because Both Of Them Are Perfection!!! I Hope You Love This My Dear ♡ ♡ ♡ May This Feed Your Soul And Your Horniness xoxo ♡ ♡ ♡

Hᴀᴀʀʟᴇᴘ

“Who said you can rest, dove~”

Haarlep lifted your limp body with ease, his nails kissing your hips as he held your abused hole above his thick cock. The creatures cum drooling from your twitching pussy, making quite the mess on his lap, “Is this really the best your body can do? How disappointing.” He pouts mockingly, “We were only just getting started, little love~”

The incubus’ lips pulled into a sharp grin as his tail curled around your thigh to spread your leg wider for him. The tip of his cock teasing your opening, pushing into the sloppy mess your body was.

You were so tired… So, so tired… Sore, and exhausted. You had lost count of how many times you came and how many times Haarlep did. But you still couldn't help but cry out as Haarlep impaled you on his beautiful veiny cock once again, your head lolled back before your body slumped forward onto his chest, “Ahhh~♡ Ha-Haarleeeerp~ Th-e tip of y-your dick and n’my cervix are touching n’kissing each other~~~♡ Aahh~ It h-hurts so s’good~! Y-Yur gonna rip m-my n’insides~ ♡ Aaahha~”

A low purr rumbled in Haarlep's chest at your words as he started bouncing you on his cock, “What a good little toy~ You're taking me so well, dove~! Such a lovely little plaything~” Your breast, smushed so wonderfully against his chest, rubbed against his warm skin with each thrust, and he could feel how those cute perky nipples had gotten hard against him, “even though we’ve had our fun so many times now, you still react so nicely~ and you’re still so wonderfully tight~” his tongue licks against your cheek, lapping at the sweat that drenched your lovely flushed skin, “it almost feels like my cock is being strangled~”

Your arms wrapped around Haarlep's neck, and you held on tight, trying your best to match his pace and movements, your insides stretched and stuffed, the head of his cock hitting the entrance of your womb with each bounce, “s’too rough. M-my insides ngh~ a-are being bullied~ ♡ I- I feel like I'm gonna diee~ aahh~! ♡♡ Y-you're g-gonna break m-me~♡” You could feel his cum from the previous rounds sloshing around in your gut, the excess bubbling out with each thrust.

The creature knew how to make you break, knew how to make those pretty eyes of yours glaze over and roll into the back of your skull until tears dripped down your cheeks. Knew how to make those soft little noises come from your lips as you were fucked dumb.

“I would never allow that, sweet dove~ What fun would I have if you were broken before our time was up~?” His tail loosened around your leg and slid up your body, the tip of it flicking and brushing against your skin, his eyes narrowing, “Besides, if you were to die, who would let me have my fill~? And then, who would make such delicious, delectable noises just for me, little dove~?”

You were unable to respond, his thrusts too much for your poor mind… Unable to feel the way his arms were now securely wrapped around you, keeping you close. How his tail curled protectively against your back, or the soft way his eyes gazed at you…

You were unable to see just how gentle and caring his expression was as he fucked you. How the way his mouth parted, the fangs that had previously torn through your flesh and left behind bloody, purple marks, now glistened with saliva as he whispered, cooed and moaned, sweet words just for you, his little dove… Yes you were, his little dove, the one who came to him and gave him your life and body.

His sweet, lovely, little dove.

Rᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ

Your face was pressed into his mattress, his clawed hand tangled in your tousled locks as his hips snap against you, each thrust eliciting a sharp gasp or moan from those pretty bruised lips of yours. He had his other large hand splayed across the small of your back, holding you in place. His ridged cock pushing the cum he dumped into you further until it takes up every inch of space, making you feel full and stuffed.

“R-Raphael~! Pleassse! W-wait!!” You whimper pathetically, voice cracking as he ruts harder against you.

He leans over you, his hot breath washing over your back, causing goosebumps to erupt over your heated skin, before he growls lowly, “You were clearly reveling in the moment just a moment ago; do not retreat into shyness now, my little bird.”

Little bird, or rather little songbird as he usually says… Was his most recent pet name for you simply because he enjoyed the way you sung his name like a songbird as your body convulsed with each orgasm he wrung out of you.

Raphael licked a long, slow stripe up your spine, chuckling as you shiver and squirmed beneath him, mewling softly, before he nuzzles your neck and whispers huskily in your ear, his voice deep and gravelly, his tone alone sending a rush of heat to your face, “You're mine, leaking my seed. Do you not yet comprehend? I aim to ensure that your womb is nourished on this day.”

Your lips fell open, your eyes widening and cheeks flushing as his words settled in the deepest parts of your mind. The very thought of being bred by this devil, of his warm seed taking root within your belly, it made your head dizzy, “I-I’m-I... I-I'm- m’your- y-yours~” You slur, tongue heavy as you speak, “S’good~ m’your property~”

Raphael chuckles and pulls away, only to flip you over onto your back and then grab your thighs and pull them up, his hands moving to hook them behind your knees, pressing them close to your chest, “Indeed, my lovely little songbird, you belong to me.”

His hand caresses your cheek, a thumb running across your lips, pulling the bottom one down, a string of saliva connecting the digit and your lip, “Your lips,” his nail bites into the supple flesh, dragging across, splitting it, and the metallic taste of blood coats your tongue, making him moan as he watches you lick it up, a dark, hungry look in his eye, “your tongue, ah such a pleasurable anatomy” he slips a digit onto your tongue, groaning as you swirl it around his thick finger, “your womb” his finger leaves your mouth with a wet plop and your saliva as it trails down between your breasts until he finds where your bodies are joined.

A small bulge present beneath your navel, and he presses his palm flat against it, making you arch your back as his cock throbs and twitches inside of you, “your soul…“ He grinds his hips, pushing his cock deeper and harder against that spot, making you squeal, the bulge growing more pronounced and causing your stomach to distend as the tip of his cock nudges against your cervix, “all of you belongs to me.”

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

dark raphael, possessive/jealous devil, devils being devils i guess

Read on AO3

-

“Mm…Haarlep…”

It’s over the moment that single word leaves your mouth. The strange, moody tension that’s been strangling the room reaches its crescendo. Raphael’s fraying patience snaps. Bursts into flame just like the shattered glass of wine in his hand.

“Enough.”

He’s at the bed in the blink of an eye, snarling like the fiend he is. Sharp shining teeth bared. He grabs Haarlep by the hair, twists, and rips the incubus away. Haarlep lands in a sprawled heap on the ground, but they don’t look pained or even angry. Insidious amusement paints their borrowed features instead, because this is exactly what they’ve been waiting for. What they knew was going to happen from the start.

“Leave,” barks Raphael, addressing Haarlep but never taking his dark eyes off you, naked and trembling on his red velvet sheets. “Now.”

Haarlep blows you a kiss and vanishes. You’re alone with your master. The man who owns you, literally, body and soul. The man who put you in this bed in the first place. It’s easier to watch his tail angrily thrash to and fro than it is to look him in the face. His gaze burns, devours you. Claims what is already his. He seethes with arousal, and jealousy. You’re afraid, confused, but your mind is so foggy with Haarlep’s aphrodisiac that Raphael’s mercurial temper only makes him more desirable. Only makes the ache in your cunt stronger.

“My little pet,” he murmurs, deliberate emphasis on every word. He looms over you. Grabs your chin, squeezing just hard enough to hurt. Presses the tip of his thumb claw on the soft plush of your bottom lip, pushing until blood beads beneath it. You whimper; nuzzle into his touch in the same breath. “There is only one name that should be uttered from your lips. Mine.”

“I’m sorry,” you plead, knowing it’s not enough to mollify him. This isn’t your fault. It’s his. But you’ll be punished for it anyway, because a devil like him isn’t going to admit he was wrong. He isn’t going to confess that he’s letting his jealous, coveting nature get the better of him. No, instead he’s going to do what he always does: indulge.

It was his idea to let you “play” with Haarlep. You were reluctant, your animosity towards the incubus stagnant yet secure, but it was what Raphael seemed to want, now that he and his pet demon are on touching terms once more. You’re always so good for Raphael, your Master. So obedient. Of course you couldn’t say no, and as soon as Haarlep’s spittle got to work, you forgot all of your gripes with them anyway.

Raphael, however, did not.

Maybe he thought he’d enjoy watching his likeness take you apart in sexual ruin, like he had countless times before with countless different people. Maybe he thought he was “rewarding” you for your loyalty and dedication. Maybe he just didn’t consider that he’d feel so possessive over such a mundane, unremarkable trinket like your soul. He has thousands upon thousands, after all. There is nothing particularly special about yours. And yet, even as arousal coursed through his body and fattened his cock while he watched and felt the things Haarlep was doing to you, he’d clawed gouges into the armrest of the chaise where he’d been sitting – his private seat of power. Glared at your entwined bodies with mounting hate and envy.

It’s a beautiful and terrible reality, to be an object of Raphael’s affection. That’s the one and only thing you and Haarlep could ever agree on.

“Say it,” Raphael commands, slowly tightening his grip.

“Ah…say what?” It’s tough to think. You fight to stop yourself squirming, from rubbing your damp thighs together for some friction on your lonely, swollen clit.

“My name.” He’s holding you so tightly your bones creak. Instinctively you buck against him, gasping when your cunt throbs. Hungrily drools slick.

“Raphael!”

“Yes,” the devil hisses, eyes glittering in satisfaction at your small torment. He climbs onto the bed, crawls on top of you. Crushes you with his size and weight. The huge canopy of his wings block out the sight of all but him. His breath scalds your lips and cheeks, smells like smoke and wine. “You are mine. You belong to me. I own everything you are, and everything you ever will be. Never again will you think of another. Never will a name that isn’t mine tumble so sweetly from your lips. I am your eternity.”

He is your past, your present, your future. The Master of the House. His law, His word.

“Yes, Raphael!” You choke out. He’s squeezing your throat now. A trickle of blood leaks from your lip. His long forked tongue eagerly slurps it up, lingering on the wound he made. Tears well in your eyes but don’t fall, not yet. Tears of pain. Tears of frustration.

“There, now. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Raphael croons. You jolt when he wedges his thick thigh between yours. Your body moves without your input, grinding your wet cunt desperately against the surface offered to you. Black spots appear in the corners of your vision. He cuts off your airway to the point where you can barely breathe. You’ve always been afraid of suffocation, but with incubus spit muddling your senses, the endorphins and adrenaline just fan the raging flames of your desire. You rut harder against Raphael, mewling like a bitch. He sneers. “How pathetic.”

Yet, when he clicks his fingers and his clothes disappear, his cherry-red cock is so hard and heavy with blood it can barely stand up. Pearlescent globs of precum leak from its tip, catching on ridges, barbs and veins. His balls hang fat and flush and full, begging to be emptied. Sweat beads at his temples. His pupils expand to consume his fiery irises. As always, his biology gives him away, and such interesting biology it is. He runs hot, almost unbearably so, his rough and scaly skin near-scalding the sensitive flesh of your mons. You whine and whinge even as you press yourself closer, growing faint and weak from lack of oxygen. Instinct makes you flail and scratch at your Master. You would never try to hurt him otherwise. You adore him. You worship him.

He entertains himself for a moment watching you struggle. Watching you wonder if he intends to snuff the life out of your fragile mortal shell, unable to do anything but pine for a release of any kind. Fuck me, kill me, whatever you want. You can’t die, not in the traditional sense. Your soul is bound to Raphael, to the House of Hope. He’s murdered debtors before in fits of rage and they always end up roaming the halls again eventually. You don’t find out how today. He lets go of you, lets you suck in huge gulps of air. So magnanimous even in his disdain. Every heaving gasp is glorious, orgasmic. Your lungs burn. You burn. Raphael watches it all with black, sadistic pleasure. A crown of twisted horns upon his head for a king of sadism.

“Say it again,” he demands.

“Raphael,” you rasp. Obedient to a fault.

The devil growls. Thin lips peel back over his fangs. He manhandles you, grabbing your legs to part them further, push your knees up by your head to better expose your weeping cunt. He’s not gentle. His claws raze stinging welts down the backs of your thighs. He’s done toying. He wants to fuck. He wants to come. He wants.

He’s too big like this. He won’t fit. He doesn’t care.

One brutal, precise snap of his hips and he stuffs his infernal cock deep inside your cunt. You’re so wet he slides right in and just keeps going. The sound is obscene, but you can’t hear it. You’re screaming. The agony of his vicious prick, barbed and fat and intrusive, is also ecstasy. Union. Hurtling you into the abyss of orgasm you’ve teetered at the edge of for what feels like forever. You writhe and you cry and you sob and you beg, your cunt clenching hard, milking Raphael’s cock with every contraction. He endures it for barely a moment. This isn’t about you.

“Such a good pet,” he snarls, grunting with effort. His rhythm is cruel, fast, his thrusts unforgiving. Sloppy. He’s still upset. Will be until he’s satisfied. He cannot and will not be reasoned with until then. “Haarlep won’t touch you ever again. No one will. Only me. Isn’t that right?”

“Yuh-yes,” you eke out. Wracked by pain and pleasure in tandem. The kind that strikes you dumb, that brands itself into every iota of your being. Imprints a legacy upon you that you will spend the rest of the forever attempting to achieve again. You can’t tell where one ends and the other begins, and Raphael is not here to help you navigate the waters. He’s the one drowning you. He crowds you, fucks deeper, harder, yearning for your womb’s slick, soft squeeze. Rocks your body with each flex. His tight balls bump your backside. Every nudge of your clit when your pelvises meet sends a lance racing up your spine. The head of his cock kisses your cervix, demands entrance. He pants, open-mouthed, eyes half-lidded. Groans in delirious delight when he sees the tears finally streaming down your cheeks. Feasts on them. You’re so overstimulated even his slippery tongue feels like broken glass. Gods it hurts so good.

“Delicious,” purrs the devil. He’s unravelling. “Sweeter than all the wines of Baator. And it’s all for me.”

He pushes his face into the crook of your neck, and when he comes – a great, shuddering climax, his cock erupting into your womb with spurts of liquid heat, more and more and more – he bites down, making a perfect imprint of his teeth into your nubile, sweat-slicked flesh. You squeal, you can’t help it. He seems to like that, if the throb of his cock and its extra squirt or two of cum is anything to go by. Raphael stays there, breathing hard through his nose, muscles twitching as he rides out his orgasm. All you can do is lay still and grip the bed. You’ve never felt so full. Eventually, when he softens and pulls out, the two of you moan in unison for different reasons, copious amounts of his seed leaking from your bruised, aching hole to stain the sheets. The devil lays on his side, satiated (for now). You, however…

With the greatest highs come even greater lows. Haarlep’s venom is wearing off, taking with it the cushion of pleasure protecting you from the full force of Raphael’s harsh treatment. Bruising around your throat, scratches and bites and stretched ligaments… Of course, your cunt has it the worst. What starts as a dull, yawning ache becomes sharp, searing. Your fingers and toes curl with the effort not to howl. You couldn’t anyway, your voice too raw from screaming. What you make instead is a quiet keen of distress. Raphael, who was perhaps dozing, takes notice.

“Oh, you poor little thing,” he croons lazily, only after admiring his work. The state of you. There’s no real sympathy in his voice. No regret. You didn’t expect any. In a show of mercy, however, he does click his fingers and move the two of you into his rejuvenation pool. You’re soothed in an instant. Except for the bite. Raphael makes it very clear that’s there to stay.

[ghostchems]

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

raphael lays some ground rules for your deal and extends an invitation.

author's note: read part one here. 2.3k words. 18+, mdni please. some bickering, some groping. thigh riding. ya know, the usual. ao3 link.

“What are you writing?” 

Raphael’s quill runs off the page, a thick line of black ink staining his desk. His nostrils flare and he quickly claps his journal shut, eyeing the incubus with sheer annoyance. He clenched his jaw before giving a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing as he tries to let the frustration roll off of him. The last thing he wants to do is give Haarlep any ammunition. 

“My recent business dealings.” Raphael answers curtly and in one fluid motion slips his journal off his desk into a drawer. His eyes flit up Haarlep’s body before settling at his eyes and scrunches his nose. “And where have you been?” He sets down his quill and leans back in his desk chair. 

“You know I like to get some air every so often.” Haarlep yawns as he slinks onto the nearby bed, laying down on his stomach with his head propped up in his hands. “Writing smut again, are we? I can smell a certain aroma from you.” His mouth curls into a sly smile, his pointed teeth poking out from his upper lip. Raphael’s gaze falls to the incubus, eyes narrowing as his lips purse. It’s difficult for him to get frustrated with Haarlep at this point — he’s grown used to his teasing after having him in his “employment” for so long but still this situation is delicate.

“Are you jealous, dear Haarlep?” Raphael’s voice drops to a low purr. He gets up from his padded armchair and saunters over to the bed only to sit beside the other. Haarlep rolls over so that he can face him, claws immediately starting to drift up along his doublet sleeve. 

“Not jealous.” The incubus huffs, his touch drawing closer to Raphael’s stomach. “It has been quite some time since a mortal got your loins in a twist, though. Seems more receptive than your other pet.” He flashes a brilliant smile while Raphael digs his nails into the palms of his own hands, giving a vicious growl — a warning. Haarlep merely scoffs in response but he does lower his head, gaze beginning to drift around the room. “If you’re going to have her over you should probably have one of your debtors clean up the place.”

“Bringing her here is not a part of my plan currently. Are you requesting something of me?” Raphael peers down at the other as he cocks a brow. Haarlep shrugs and stays quiet for a moment before giving a huff.

“I want to see what all this fuss is about.” 

Raphael considers him, his mind quickly running through a few scenarios. Why should he share? But there it is, an opportunity underneath all the show: a deal to be made.

“Perhaps I could make some changes, but what would be in it for me?”

***

You feel a violent hand over your mouth and your eyes shoot open as a gasp rips from your throat. Once your vision settles, you’re met with those caramel eyes leering over you, Raphael’s teeth-bared and gaze sharp.

“Outside. Now.” There is venom in his voice unlike that you’ve heard from him before. He disappears in a spark of ash before you’re able to say anything — and then you realize he’s cast silence on you anyway. You feel an angry growl rumble through your chest but it’s swallowed up by the time it reaches your lips, in some ways a blessing since you don’t want to wake your companions. As you get out of bed, Astarion stirs in the one in front of you, making soft snores and every so often small whimpers? Do vampires have dreams? Your mind wanders as you put on your evening robe to fight the chill of the air. One last scan over your companions and you’re out the door, heading downstairs of the tavern and out to the alleyway.

Raphael is waiting for you, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. You hate that the first thing you think of is how radiant he looks in the pale moonlight. The dim light makes his brown eyes sparkle and the gold details on his doublet shine. Memories of the deal you made and what happened after flood your mind, replacing your annoyance with a familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach. You open your mouth but only air tumbles out, making you clench your fists in frustration.

“No, no. You don’t get to speak yet, little mouse.” He stalks closer to you, his movements slow and deliberate. “Rumors have made their way back to me that a certain hero has been fraternizing with an infernal being.” Raphael grits his teeth as he leans in, his eyes boring into yours. “You couldn’t wait to tell your little companions, could you?” There is anger in his voice but underneath it you swear there is a hint of teasing. He awaits your response but then gives a dramatic ah! before snapping his fingers. 

“I didn’t tell them about our deal.” You’re finally able to snap back but your voice is hoarse from the silence. “Astarion noticed! He could smell you on me. Called me a freak — but not in a disgusted way, more like… he was impressed.” Too much information but the words spill out of you. Raphael’s face remains unchanged, his lips pressed into a straight line and his brows furrowed. “He’s bad at keeping secrets… but I wasn’t sure if you would care since you left me alone at Sharess’ Caress.” 

He exhales slowly through his nose and his face seems to relax, his jaw shifting back into place and his eyes softening. One of his hands reaches for yours, which is balled into a fist at your side. His fingers graze your fist, lightly trying to loosen it before he takes your hand. Raphael’s eyes stay fixed on you, his lips starting to quirk into a barely there smile. You try to keep a straight face but his warm fingers laced with your own makes an infuriating blush rise to your cheeks.

“Did I hurt your feelings, pet?” His voice drops dangerously low as he brings the back of your hand to his lips. You roll your eyes, amazed by his nerve. Did he think he could bat his lashes and you’d be wrapped around his finger? “Mmm… forgive me, for that. Please. It’s been an eternity since someone has affected me this way.” He murmurs, averting your gaze as you swear you see a flash of embarrassment cross his face. Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden candor, having only seen it once before in him. 

“You shouldn’t have left.” You remain firm but your voice is a hum, your eyes tracing over his features. “After everything we’ve been through, I thought I would have gotten special treatment.” You wriggle your hand free from his grasp as you give him a sly grin, not about to let him off the hook that easily. Raphael’shead tilts as he regards you silently for a moment, as if your playfulness caught him off guard. His lips tug into a smile and you catch his gaze fall to your mouth, then back up to meet your eyes.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. As you know, I tend to keep my word.” He all but purrs, drifting in even closer to you. 

“Well, I’d like to get it in writing.” 

“You what?” Raphael’s charming facade immediately drops, scrunching his nose. You are delighted with the way he glared at you. “Let us discuss this later — we have more pressing matters. Your companions, I am certain they aren’t very supportive of you mingling with a devil such as myself.” He presses his hand to his chest, those caramel eyes sucking you in like they always do. 

“I wouldn’t say that they are thrilled about it.” You sigh and break your eye contact. “But it doesn’t seem like a reason for them to leave, at least for now… if this is something that will continue.” He uses one of his long fingers to gently turn your head back to his gaze. 

“I would rather that they didn’t know about us, sweetling.” Raphael sounds almost sweet as he seemingly takes in every detail of your face, his hand now cupping your cheek. “Them and the entirety of the Sword Coast, at least until the Elder Brain is defeated. We don’t want the general public to think our savior is taking orders from a devil, do we?” It’s something you haven’t thought about until now. You were never one to care for optics but he isn’t wrong. “I have an idea that will put your companion’s minds at ease and take some of the heat off of us.” 

You’re hardly paying attention to what he’s saying because of how close he is. You could easily kiss him right now. What would he do? You decide to find out. The gravel crunches beneath your feet as you quickly push yourself onto your tippy toes to kiss him, nearly cutting him off. Raphael’s body freezes in surprise before his hand moves from your cheek to tangle with your hair, his tongue desperately pushing into your mouth. It’s like a switch went off in his brain. He’s grabbing you, tugging at your waist so your bodies are flush against each other.

You nearly fall into him as he takes a few steps back, your hands slipping to hold onto his shoulders. Tasting him again was almost just as overwhelming as the first time, the heat of his mouth making me crave him more and more, deepening the kiss. Raphael moves quickly, both his hands suddenly gripping your thighs to pull you down with him into a chair you’re sure didn’t exist a moment ago. He has you straddling his waist, strong hands making sure you stay in place. You finally manage to break away from the kiss to catch your breath, hazy eyes meeting his gaze.

“Go to the Devil’s Fee when you’re ready — my contact will grant you entrance to my House of Hope.” Raphael’s nose traces along your jaw, his lips brushing along your neck as he speaks. He teases at your neck with his teeth, inching lower and lower, while drifting his hands along your robe to grope your breast through the light fabric. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and you eliminate the remaining space between you, melting into his touch. Raphael sucks on your collarbone as he opens your robe even further, fingers toying with your nipples through your shirt before pulling it down and exposing your breasts. You’re dizzy from it all, lost in him and his expert touches and that velvet voice, lips parting to give a soft whine. 

“The hammer will be in a safe in my boudoir — an easy heist for you and your companions.” His voice is ragged, breath heavy as his mouth moves down your chest to run his tongue along your sensitive flesh. Raphael dips his hands to cup your ass and guides you along his thigh. Even through the layers of fabric the friction is delicious, making your legs tremble more and more with each drag over his thigh. You forget that you’re outside where anyone could stumble by, moaning recklessly as his lips close around one of your nipples. He flicks his tongue against it, teeth nipping it only just enough to hurt before giving it a few rough sucks. 

Your fingers move to dig into the hair at the base of his neck, tilting your head back while his mouth works over your breasts with feverish need. A growl rumbles up from his chest, feeling it against yours as you start to grind against him without his help. It all feels so reckless. Raphael’s composure is completely gone, groaning against your chest as his tongue teasing your other nipple. Your eyes fall shut and you snap your hips harshly into his thigh, chasing your release. 

And as easily as he gave into you, he takes it all away.

Raphael grabs you by the chin and wrenches you down to look at him in the eyes. You’re shuddering in his grasp as his caramel gaze sharpens, fire in his eyes. The sudden shift in mood has your mind turned upside down and your body aching to be touched by him again. 

“This part is extremely important, pet, so listen closely.” He snarls, digging his nails into your cheeks. “Do not assist Hope while you are a guest. Is that understood?” Raphael yanks you so that his lips are hovering directly over yours. You quiver at his closeness and you nod before even trying to understand what he is asking of you. All you know is that you want him now. There’s a spark in his eyes once you agree and he lets go of you gently, his hands dropping to cover you up before, leaning back in the chair with a smug look on his face. “Go on — take what you need.” 

You snap your hips immediately, flinging your hands to grab for his shoulders again. Raphael can’t stop watching your face, the way your expression twists in pleasure with each thrust, the soft groans spilling from swollen lips, basking in how much you crave him. You stare into his eyes as you do as he says, taking what you need from him until it’s all too much. You give a choked sob, hip stuttering and fingers digging into his doublet as your orgasm rips through you. His arms swallow you in his embrace, pulling you tight against his chest to help guide you back down to Earth. 

“I’ll amend your contract to reflect the changes discussed this evening.” Raphael purrs into your hair, lightly brushing his fingertips along your back. “I also have something for you – perfume that should mask my scent even from those with heightened senses of smell.” You lift your head up. A present? For you? Strangely sweet for a devil, even if it was to help with sneaking around. 

“You’ll also add your promise to the amendment, right?” You ask sweetly, the picture of innocence. He dramatically rolls his eyes.

“If you insist.”

part three

[seraphimaa]

Doll for a day

Soft(ish) Raphael x fem!Reader/Tav

Slight Haarlep x Fem!reader/Tav

Raphael comes home unexpectedly while a certain somebody is playing with his toys. Tav thinks that playing dead is preferable to facing his wrath. Maybe, in hindsight, it was not her brightest idea.

PART 2 IS UP

Warnings: kind of of dubcon, confessions under false pretences, feelings (boo!😈)

“Haarlep.”

That stern, musical voice cuts like a knife through the washing pleasure she had been so lost in. Ice jolts down her spine and suddenly it feels like someone has turned on the lights. The body over her freezes much the same, buried to the hilt as she clenches down on him, muscles going taut.

She sees the spark of surprise and fear mould the face hanging over her. She guesses that though she worries for her general well-being and survival in the upcoming moments, Haarlep was no doubt reeling at the thought of being put on the naughty step. Nobody ever let him have any fun in this house. The little mouse had been so easy to catch. So desperate to see the eyes he wore look at her the ways that he had. ‘The master is away. He’ll be gone for so long. Aren’t you lonely, little mouse? He’s lonely too and he’s wanted you for so long. Please give yourself to him.’ He’d promised that it would be their little secret and she’d all but melted before him, climbing across the satin, trembling.

“What little pest has managed to crawl out of my walls and find its way into my boudoir?”

Haarlep had promised that he’d let her go long before Raphael was due to return. “don’t worry” he’d said, “give me your trust. You’re perfectly safe with me.” Gods, she was going to haunt him. What a little shit. She did know, however, that he is clearly as caught off guard as she is.

The sounds of Raphael’s polished shoes clack across the tiles near the entrance.

The timbre changes as he reaches the oak flooring and she feels like she could faint, like her mind is floating above her and watching the scene from some detached place. A sigh.

“My fine cormyrean sheets, Haarlep!” He sounds appalled. “Do you know how much they cost, you animal?”

The little demon spawn stays in place, back facing him but tail flicking in obvious unease.

“Thousands. I won’t bore you with exact figures, harlot, as you’ve never been particularly apt in finances…or general intellectual engagement. So, let me ask you again, what little pest have you caught and defiled now? Gods they’re absolutely saturated. You’ve torn them too!”

She could feel her breathing quicken as his rage seems to rapidly increase.

“Hup, hup, Haarlep. Go sulk in the corner. I’m sure you’ll just drown in remorse while I clean up this mess. I’ve had a busy day, you know, and now I have to throw away your leftovers and order new sheets, too. Can a man not relax in his own forsaken house? Is it too much to ask for?”

The is tap, tap, tapping his foot on the ground is motivated, no doubt, by the unavoidable headache that he’d be forced to soothe with a glass of vintage later.

Haarlep begins to lean backwards, his eyes glued to hers. He was curious, excited to see what she was going to do but she could see that he was also silently pleading with her to act very carefully, for both of their sakes. She feels herself flush in humiliation as she loses the physical and psychological shield of Haarlep between them and as much as she desperately wants to curl into a ball and hide, her limbs remain frozen in place, her body completely detached from her thought and command. This was more than she could handle.

The incubus detaches from her and the air catches in her throat as he pulls out completely from her clenching hole, swollen lips left empty and drooling. Another breath catches in the air, but it’s not her own. She wishes she could sink into the sheets and disappear. Part of her is half tempted to just roll off of the bed then under the frame, never to come out again. Nevertheless, she still does not move. Her eyes glue themselves to a small crack in the ceiling above her and her face is slack in shock. Her hair is wild and splayed around her, her legs spread from accommodating their recent guest, her dumb and vacant face flushed a scandalous shade of crimson.

From her peripheral, Haarlep tries to scamper off, tail between his legs, but he’s stopped by his master raising one hand at him, eyes still glued to the little mouse on his bed.

His other hand snatches towards her, latching to her chin and he glowers down his nose at her in his own shock. She refuses to shift her gaze, focussing hard in every detail of the splintered paint above. He jerks her head left and her vision spins then fills with the detailed threading on the edges of his doublet and the hatched material of his trouser legs. He jerks to the right and her visions swims again, filling with stained glass and hazy walls as her other cheek meets the bed. He stands over her like this for some time and she is thankful to be facing the opposite wall as her eyes well in fear. She’s unsure what he plans to do as he continues to ponder her, simmering.

“Haarlep.” She can hear the effort behind the barely collected tone.

“Please, tell me that I’m mistaken. Please, tell me that you didn’t actually suck the soul right out of my most valuable investment. Please,” his voice cracks slightly, “tell me you didn’t just ruin everything everything I had worked so hard for.”

“Master-“

Before the incubus can interject again, Raphael’s claws seize him and suddenly he’s careening. He’s marched blindly backwards under the cambion’s grip, as the rant continues.

“You had one job, not to get meddle. Not to ruin this one thing. I swear I shall send you back into the rotten abyss you crawled out of.”

Haarlep’s legs meet the balcony ledge and he stumbles and plummets over the edge with a yelp. Raphael does not wait to watch his descent and turns back into the room. Stopping again at the edge of the bed.

He stills and heaves a deep sigh, fingers coming to pinch at his brow. He looks again at the mindless doll, all to familiar I shape, on the bed. Her potential was supposed to be so much greater than this. She was the one who would bring him his crown. She could have been his chosen, but there was nothing left. Nothing but her prone form still draped open in mocking invite. He tries to ignore the ache. Tries not to imagine that the invite was for him, that she would have lay so sweet for his craven self.

She knows she should say, do, anything. She screams inside to just start apologising and take the consequences, because there is no avoiding the inevitable but after watching the fate of the incubus, she feels her voice disappear back down her throat and her limbs cement themselves to the silk below. He thinks her to be but a lifeless husk and that was about the only role she felt capable of playing in this moment. He approaches her again and she feels another wave of adrenaline wash over her as he stares down at her, this time his face seems almost defeated. Glum. His eyes search over her. He looks into her eyes. They’re glassy and fixed. They look scared. He doesn’t know what it is that washes over him at the image of her terrified and trapped under the copy of his form as her soul is leeched from her, but he knows that he doesn’t like it. Her cheeks remain rosy, a lurking evidence of her undoing. Her lips are parted in a little gasp. What noises had left them in this very room? Her face looked shocked and horrified, tinged with shame and the remnants of her recent euphoria. Her death mask. From her lips left quick puffs of air but the life that remained in her shell held no more value. His little mouse wasn’t in there anymore. Not in any way that mattered, or so he believes.

With another dramatic sigh, he sags to sit on the edge of the bed, back facing to her. He leans his arms into his knees and considers how to salvage this wagon crash. He could not afford to wallow in childish fantasies and feelings. They never did him any good. She had disappointed him, immensely. He knows not of why she’d come skittering to his house but she’d found her end here none the less. His house was not built to cater to her meek nature. It was done now. He can not stop thinking, however, about what had led her to sneak behind his back and play with his toys. He couldn’t stop that nagging voice in his head reminding him that regardless of her reason to poke around, she’d been distracted by the fiend wearing his visage. She’d been lured in by the promise of laying under him. She was so willing to give herself, and she’d done so with such reckless abandon that she’d let a lowly fool like Haarlep steal her soul. She’d come into his sanctuary and used him without permission. Was she really so desperate? Did she share his hunger?

A wicked thought crosses his mind. He would dispose of her, as was the right thing to do, for it brought him no honour to keep her this way. It was sacrilege. She was, however, right here. She was gone by all means, but her body was still warm and willing. There was nothing to stop him using the carcass of her form as she had used his. It was harmless. Nobody would ever even have to know. She’d be his little secret and then he’d finally rid himself of her once and for all. Rid himself of the hold she had on him.

The screaming in her head falls silent in horror as she feels the bed dip and weight of him straddle her hips. He kneels over her, eyes flicking around, trying not to meet hers. He feels like she is watching him from inside herself. It is almost like she is still there and it makes him feel an uncomfortable twinge of vulnerability.

He brings one claw up to her mouth, pressing it over the curve of her lips and lets it push past, pressing against the ridges of her teeth. He pulls her mouth open, slackening her jaw down as far as he could until it resists, then eases his clawed finger back inside. The tip of certain scratches along the walls of her mouth, over her tongue, and her eyes bulge as it dips down and slips into her throat. She knows that she should stop it right bloody now before it goes even further but a coward she certainly is and she can’t even perceive facing his wrath right now. Her mind continues to feel locked behind the safeguarding of shock and fear, not able to pilot her body to do anything helpful. Her hands twitch at her sides but it escapes his rapt attention in testing her mouth. His face twitches slightly as her throat contacts slightly around his appendage and she realises he is palming himself, his knuckles occasionally bumping her stomach as he works his freed cock.

He plays around with her like this until his fingers come back soaked and stringing with her saliva as it pools - there’s a lump in her throat and she can’t seem swallow.

He clambers up the bed, hanging over her to grasp the headboard, and the intricate detailing of his doubled fills her vision again. She sees him staring down at her from above her point of focus. She tries think about anything other than his face. She swears she must be dreaming, losing her grip on sanity, as her she feels something heavy and hot press it’s weight onto her tongue. He presses the crimson, tapered tip of his cock into her mouth, feeling the wet cavern widen even further to allow him to slide inside. He hears her breathing change as she sucks air through her nostrils and he hears her heart thrum rapid like a rabbits. He supposed there had to be a little life left in someone with such a fate to make them enjoyable, and enjoy you he will. He releases his breath in audible groan as your sloppy, drooling mouth encases him.

Moving his hands to either side of her face, he cradled her skull and began to pump his hips, the muscles of his thighs jerking and jumping with each jolt of pleasure. He lets her gurgle around him at his lazy pace. He is in no rush. He at least deserved some kind of consolation, did he not? Tears crave tracks down her cheeks as he continuously plugs her throat, his cock pulsing in warning.

All at once he is gone from her and she next feels her awareness creep back to her as his hands take hold of her, behind her knees, and her legs are pushed towards her shoulders to expose her fully to his gaze. She hears his ragged breathing as he takes her in. The bud of pink blooming between the soft fat rolls of her labia. He uses his thumbs to part the puffy lips and his cock jumps in anticipation. He drinks her in. A flush, swollen nub perched between a tiny, fluttering pink hole. She is still leaking from her previous partner. The sloppy puddle below her still blooms a dark hue on his sheets. He knows if he doesn’t take her now, he’ll talk himself out of it.

With one thrust, he asserts control of his racing thoughts and sinks to the hilt inside of her, feeling his cock bump and press up against the resistance of her womb. Any thoughts plaguing him are gone as his mind draws blank from the blinding pleasure. The numbing release of finally laying claim to her. He hears her hiccup a wail that fades into a mindless keen and her hands ball into the sheets. She feels like her soul really did just leave her body.

He almost finds himself thanking the gods in that moment, hearing the sweet noises she made. At least her body could still give him that. At least she, like Haarlep, could tell him oleander lies while he buries himself inside of her.

He chokes a moan, sucking in breath and releases it in a hissed growl as he draws his hips back, feeling every twitch of her cunt as he slides against the grip of slick walls. He drives forward again, forcing them both further up the bed. A hand at her leg yanks her back down before she can catch her bearings and he pulls her into him , connecting them again as deeply as he can get. She feels like she’s falling - dying maybe. The conscience and guilt that told her to do good and smart things were long gone, lost some time after he’d speared into her with reckless abandon. Any sense was gone. A new voice was seeping through the hormonal concoction she was swimming in. It told her that this was all that mattered. In this moment she was his and it felt better than she’d ever dreamed, when alone at night with her imagination. She can’t stop the rhythmic song of pleasure he pulls from her, the room full with her whines and cries joining his.

Haarlep, for as devastatingly good as he’d been, could not match the ferocity and intensity that fuelled the fiend above her now. His face was twisted in a snarl, his own mouth hanging slack and his eyes locked to the sight of himself splitting her apart. His moans and gasps begin to lower as his hips stutter in their pace. He buries his face into her neck, hips continuing to rock. He inhales deeply, drinking in her scent.

“You silly mouse.” His voice is strained. He sounds close. Underneath it though, she recognises that somber tone.

“I was so close to having you. You were supposed to be mine. I could have given you the world. I would have given you everything.”

He groans as his hips jerk again, his cock pressing something deep inside. It’s all to much and the bubble finally popped. She shudders under him with a wail as white heat floods her senses. He loses it at her sound and the clenching of her strangling at his length. He collapses onto his forearms at either side of her, letting her quivering pussy milk his seed from him.

“I can find another champion, but you, you had been special. I wanted it to be your hands that passed me the crown. I wanted it to be you I shared it all with.” He stays buried inside of as he softens. His voice is a whisper, as if telling a great secret to the empty room. His hand is petting through her hair absently.

She doesn’t know how long he remains, body pressed to hers. The adrenaline is wearing off and she feels like her spirit is slipping back into her aching, exhausted form. She wasn’t prepared to face any of it. She didn’t think she ever would be. How could she even begin to process current events. How the hells would she explain any of this to anyone, least of all him? The concoction of shame and humiliation began to take hold of her again and she starts to plan, fast. He would never forgive her for this. He’d hate her. Why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t she stopped it? She knew the real answer. She hadn’t wanted it to stop, really. She’d take being bounced on his cock over the eternity of suffering he was bound to expose her to as soon as the curtain came up. She just wanted to stay like this forever. Maybe time would stand still, or maybe, she’d simply die from a random heart attack from all of this absurdity and stress. Yes, she decided all at once, she’ll just stay here like this. forever. She finds momentary comfort in her delusions, painting herself a happy future where she never faces the music and gets to stay under him like this, hearing his sweet words and bringing him pleasure for the rest of time. She would be his new toy. He’d treat her so well. It would all be so very nice.

The image is ripped from her as a voice she recognises all to well chimes from near the pool.

“Fear not, master. I have returned unharmed. I wish you’d stop doing that all the time, you know I have wings-“ his voice cuts to an scandalised gasp. “Oh my, and back just in time to play, too!” She can feel Raphael’s tail swish in agitation, but he doesn’t have the energy left to channel his rage. “What an interesting turn of events, I must say! I did so hope that you both would work it out peacefully.” The cambion above her hisses as the bed dips with Haarlep’s weight, he sheepishly prowls the edges of the bed, testing the waters with his grumpy master.

Gods, it’s actually Haarlep! She fills with relief that he’s alive.

“See I knew you’d calm right down once you realised that I didn’t touch your mouse’s precious soul. I played so nicely with her. See, aren’t we all glad it was just a big, innocent misunderstanding?” His tail is wagging happily on the air.

She’s is going to kill him. That little shit. She is going to down him in the pool and throw him back over the balcony rails herself.

“Let me join, master, please! I’ll be so quiet that you won’t even notice me there. Think how good it’ll feel to bury yourself in two of those little holes at the same time!”

She doesn’t dare move, not even brave enough to take a breath as the body above hers stiffens then jerks backwards. Her eyes stay on the ceiling. Stay still. Stay still. Stay still. It’s deafeningly silent.

His voice hisses through the air, threatening and full of disbelief.

“Little mouse?”

Well. Fuck.

I guess you could read this and view the protagonist as morally grey but I raise you, as the ringleader of this circus, that I am also just stupid and the “if I don’t move it can’t see me” tactic is my favourite every uncomfortable social situation, so there’s also that. This was more of a practice. I’m trying to oil ye ol rusty smut skills. I hope I managed to make the characters somewhat recognisable even if it’s kinda goofy.

[cambion-companion]

I'm thinking for my next chapter I'm going to roll ability checks for the protagonist. It could go great or it could go really wrong.

[bitethedevil]

Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 6

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Raphael learns that Tav has been up to something. Tav is reminded of the reality of the situation she finds herself in and of who Raphael really is. She also learns that she is beginning to develop a bit of Stockholm Syndrome.

(AN: I can't believe we're already at Chapter 6. I think I started writing this fic early this month. I literally haven't thought of anything else since. I should really try touching some grass...)

TW: Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Blood.

Hope you are still alive and well. What is it that Raphael wants from us and what should we expect if he contacts us?

That was the message that she had received in the morning from Gale. She had to get a message back to her friends, though it would prove difficult as Cassius was watching her with the intensity of a predator waiting for its prey to move before it pounces.

She could take him easily. That was not the problem at all. The problem was that Cassius would not fall for the same trick and he would definitely tattle on her this time if she tried anything. She would have to be very discreet.

She got up from her chair and started slowly walking back and forth in the large main area of the house. Cassius narrowed his eyes at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Getting some exercise. It’s not like I can go out for a stroll, is it?” Tav answered and stretched her limbs.

“Sit down,” Cassius ordered.

“Free roam of the house~” Tav said, repeating what Raphael had promised her on her first day there. “You are supposed to follow me, not the other way around.”

“I can’t watch you if you keep pacing,” he said with a sneer. “Sit. Down.”

“No,” Tav said and kept walking at a leisurely pace.

There was a quiet growl of frustration from Cassius, but he did not get up from his chair, although he kept watching her intently.

She kept walking around the room, testing if he would get up from his chair if she turned her back on him. She could sense that he tensed up when she did, but he did not move. All she needed was a moment.

She turned her back on him once again. She quickly and quietly mumbled the message she had rehearsed in her mind for Gale.

Unfortunately, Cassius were on her before she could even say the incantation for the sending spell.

“You insolent little bitch,” he hissed.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her backwards, making her land on her back. She opened her mouth to say an incantation, but Cassius was fast. He punched her square in the face, and it took her by surprise. It was clear that he had just been waiting for an excuse to hurt her.

He held her arms down and muffled her with his hand.

“I can’t wait till he sees your true colors,” Cassius said and pressed down the hand that was over her mouth and nose, making it hard for her to breathe.

Tav bit his hand hard and then she worked fast: Thunderwave, Sleep spell.

Cassius flew back and slumped to the floor.

Tav was breathing hard. She closed her eyes for a moment to try and calm her pulse down a bit. She rubbed her face and when she withdrew it, she saw that there was a good amount of blood on it.

She got up from the floor and walked over to Cassius, before casting another spell that would ensure that he would keep sleeping for quite a while before getting up again.

Tav closed her eyes and said the message she would send to Gale:

The Orphic Hammer. I’m in chains. He is trying to lure you here to try and free me. Don’t come here under any circumstances.

She sent the message and then glanced at Cassius on the floor before sending another as well:

I’m safe and well. I’ll probably not be able to contact you any time soon. Too risky. Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure it out.

Tav sighed. She threw herself down in an armchair and called on one of the servants. The poor halfling woman who entered looked at Cassius’s unconscious body and then at Tav’s bloodied face with widened eyes. Tav smiled politely at her.

“Can you call Raphael here?” Tav asked.

“Yes, miss,” the halfling servant mumbled and nodded.

“Thank you.”

Tav waited and expected the worst when Raphael would come home.

Raphael was in his devil form when he returned home. He looked furious when he entered and saw his warlock unconscious on the floor. He looked even more pissed when his eyes went to Tav.

“Please…” Tav said and held her hands up in defense. “Let me explain…”

“Oh, you will,” Raphael said in a low voice and walked closer to her. “Talk.”

“The day after I got here, I incapacitated Cassius to cast a sending spell to my friends,” she explained hurriedly. “I convinced him not to tell you. Today I did it again. I am being upfront with you, because it’s not my intention to piss you off or to hide anything.”

The latter being a bit of a lie. She would not have told Raphael if she had not been caught in the act by Cassius, and he probably knew that she was only trying to come clean in order to get ahead of Cassius’s allegations.

Raphael’s eyes narrowed at her as he studied her bloodied face. He was quiet for a moment. It was tense and uncomfortable.  

“What did he do to you?” Raphael asked. He said it with eerie calmness, but she could hear the anger hiding right under the surface.

That was…not the question she had anticipated. She had been so busy saving her own ass, that she had not really considered the fact that Cassius might be in danger from getting punished as well. It was not that she had a lot of sympathy for the warlock, but she knew what Raphael was capable of doing to people, and she did not like the thought of being responsible for it.

“Oh this?” Tav asked and gestured to her face. Her nose was still slightly bleeding, and she felt that her cheek was starting to swell up slightly. “He only tried to hinder me from attacking him.”

Raphael's eyes narrowed even more.

“Mm…And why are you protecting him, Tav?” Raphael asked in a dangerous tone.

“I’m not,” she said with quietly. “It’s just…he was just doing his job.”

“I am well aware of his incompetence. His job was to call upon me should anything happen. Which he has failed to do twice, if what you are saying is correct,” Raphael said darkly and came closer. He grabbed her chin gently and turned her face to study her injuries. “I did not give him permission to harm you like this, so I will ask you again…Why are you protecting him?”

The intensity of Raphael’s stare and the tone of his voice made her nervous. She swallowed hard and her eyes flicked away from his gaze.  

For once, she actually felt like a little mouse, shaking under the paw of the cat, knowing that one wrong move could mean that its claws would sink into her.

“Do you care for him, is that it?” Raphael asked pointedly.

Her eyes went back to his and her brow furrowed at the odd question. Was that…jealousy she saw on his face?

“No,” she answered as if it was obvious. “I don’t. I’ve told you what I think of him before…it’s just…”

“Just what?” Raphael asked, his fiery eyes still boring into hers.

“I just…don’t want to be responsible for what you are going to do to him…” she answered in a quiet voice.

A sadistic smile flickered across his face for a brief moment.

“Do not worry yourself with such matters,” Raphael said in a slightly lighter tone and ran his thumb over her chin before his tone turned dark again. “Cassius, is responsible for what I am going to do to him.”

He let go of her chin and used the same hand to snap his fingers. Korrilla appeared in a flash of smoke and embers. It looked like she had been in the middle of something when she was whisked away. She looked at Tav and Raphael with slight confusion.

“Take her to the boudoir,” Raphael said to Korrilla and then looked at Tav to address her. “You and I will talk later.”

That little sentence and the tone of his voice made her hair stand on end.

Tav was pacing the room with an empty look in her eyes. She was not easy to scare, but now she was terrified of what Raphael might to do her. She had heard the sounds of when he sometimes punished the servants for disobeying his orders.

Whatever he would do to her, it would be personal. She had told Raphael too much. There was way too much for him to use against her and she felt anxiety bubbling in her stomach. She had not felt fear like that for years. She felt like a scared little girl again and she hated it.

“Sit down, Tav,” Korrilla said calmly. “You are going to make a hole in the floor with all that walking back and forth.”

“I think I really fucked up…” Tav mumbled and kept pacing. “What do you think he’ll do? Do you think he’d go after my friends?”

Tav had not even considered that before she said it. He probably would not. It seemed below him, but her anxiety was telling her that he might.

“Sit down, Tav,” Korrilla sighed. ”And calm down.”

“How am I supposed to be calm?” Tav asked and flinched slightly as she heard the muffled sounds of Raphael’s shouting at Cassius through the barrier to the boudoir.

“Tav,” Korrilla said slowly. “Sit down and tell me what happened.”

Tav sighed. She sat down and explained everything to Korrilla. She noticed that Korrilla was suppressing a smile as she explained, which annoyed her to no end.

“What is it that is so fucking funny about this situation?” Tav suddenly snapped at her.

Korrilla chuckled. She put her elbows on the table between them and leaned closer to Tav.

“You’re a smart girl,” Korrilla said in a lowered voice. “Use that brain of yours. You’ve seen his other debtors roaming the halls, haven’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” Tav said with an annoyed expression. “Yes, obviously. So what?”

“Do you see any of them getting treated as well as you? Are any of them dressed in silks, sleeping in their master’s bed?” Korrilla asked.

“No but that’s just because he needs me alive and in one piece to lure my friends here. He said that himself,” Tav said. She was getting frustrated with Korrilla’s calmness.

“Why?” Korrilla asked and then pointed to Tav’s chains around her wrists. “You’re wearing those. You can’t leave the house anyhow, so how would they know that you are 'alive and in one piece'? Wouldn’t it be more motivating for your friends to come and save you if they were told that you are suffering in a dungeon somewhere in the Hells?”

Tav was looking at her with a mix of annoyance and confusion.

“What are you saying?” Tav asked.

“I am saying that had you been any other person who had defied him, you would be in there watching as he made an example of Cassius. Instead, I was ordered to herd you into the only room that is somewhat soundproof in this house,” Korrilla said. “He favors you, Tav. You are not in any danger of getting hurt. Not yet anyhow.”

Tav rubbed her face trying to make sense of it. Of course, she knew that she was being treated surprisingly well for what she had expected when she got there, she was not blind. It just did not make sense, when she was the one who robbed him of his precious Crown of Karsus that he had been hunting for years. It must be some cruel joke and at some point, the hammer would fall.

“But why?” Tav asked.

“Who knows,” Korrilla said with a shrug. “I’ve worked for him for a long time, and I still won’t bother to try to figure out his motivations when it comes to certain matters. It’s a lost cause. Raphael does what Raphael wants. Which is what Cassius is learning for the first time as we speak.”

As if on cue, she heard the muffled sound of a scream from the other side of the barrier.

Tav hid her face in her hands.

“I feel terrible…” Tav said. “I hate the fucker, but he doesn’t deserve that.”

“Do you want me to make it worse?” Korrilla asked.

“No,” Tav mumbled into her hands.

“In the beginning we were given permission to hurt you if it was necessary to stop you, you know?” Korrilla explained anyway. “It sounds like Cassius overreacted, but technically he was not completely out of line. Aside from the fact that he failed to report it when you did it the first time, of course.”

Tav looked up from her hands and her brow furrowed.

“Then why is he even getting punished?” Tav asked in disbelief.

“Half of the job is figuring out Raphael’s whims and fancies…” Korrilla said. “I suppose he changed his mind along the way.”

Tav was quiet for a moment. She was trying to make sense out of it, but with little luck.  

“But you haven’t heard any of this from me. Understood?” Korrilla said, as she always did when she had said too much. 

Tav nodded. Gods, she loved Korrilla for her tendency to gossip.

“Thank you, Korrilla,” Tav said.

“For what?” she asked. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t common sense…”

Tav flinched as she heard another muffled gut-wrenching scream.

“What should I expect from him when he’s done?” Tav asked.

“My guess? He might yell at you. Perhaps a few threats of what would happen if you do it again,” Korrilla said. “I really can’t imagine that he would hurt you over something like a few sending spells.”

Tav nodded. That helped her calm down somewhat.

Tav and Korrilla went quiet when Raphael entered the boudoir. Korrilla left immediately, leaving Tav alone with him.

He was drying his hands from blood with a handkerchief. He looked Tav up and down. She looked him up and down in return. Her anxiousness was bubbling up in her stomach again. The fact that Raphael’s facial expression revealed nothing, did not help. He was eerily calm. He started walking towards her at a leisurely pace and sat down where Korrilla had sat a moment before.

Tav’s nerves made her break the silence.

“Am I in trouble?” she asked with a tinge of nervousness in her voice.

He looked at her with a slight smile and those same intense eyes he had looked at her earlier.

“Is that fear I hear in your voice, mouse?” he asked. “How delightful it is to see that you do have some sense of self-preservation after all…”

He snapped his fingers and the bloodied handkerchief disappeared.

“Tell me, what did you say to your companions in those messages?” he asked calmly.

Tav hesitated with her answer for a moment. He would most likely know if she was lying, so she decided to tell him the truth.

“Where I was. That I was safe for now…That they should not deal with you no matter what,” she explained.

“Mm…” He hummed in thought. “And this was the day after you arrived, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Raphael said. “And the second message? There were just those two, yes?”

“Well, I sent two today right after each other,” she explained. “I received a message asking what you wanted from them. I explained and once again emphasized that they should not come. Then I told them that it might be my last message, because I anticipated that I would have to come clean to you.”

“I’m glad you did,” he answered calmly. “Cassius will not be guarding you anymore. He won’t even see you if it can be avoided.”

Tav’s brow furrowed in confusion. Surely, Korrilla would not be able to do anything else if she was constantly watching her.

“Who will be then?” she asked.

“No one,” Raphael answered. “You will be granted that privacy you’ve been yearning for. I see no reason why you should not. You haven’t proven to be destructive or shown even the faintest interest in escaping. Not that you would have any luck even if you tried, of course.”

…What?! Tav could not believe it. This had to be a trap, or she was seriously missing something. She was dumbfounded.

“I hurt your warlock twice, I send messages to my friends to discourage them for falling into your trap, and I’m getting rewarded for it?” Tav said in disbelief. “What am I missing here, Raphael?”

“I had expected you to do as much. In fact, I had expected you would do much worse…” Raphael said calmly. “I am rewarding your honesty, not your actions. Besides, I am using a lot of resources on keeping an eye on you and I now find it unnecessary. It is as simple as that.”

Tav was still dumbfounded. She was honestly a bit more nervous about this reaction than she would have been if he had simply punished her or yelled at her. He was up to something. He must be, or it did not make sense.

“Though I need you to understand this…” he said and leaned closer to her. “If I catch you trying anything, I will not let you escape punishment again. I will not let you abuse the trust I am giving you by loosening my grip on your leash. Do you understand?”

She into those fiery eyes of his and nodded.

“Good,” he purred and smiled at her. He studied the injuries on her face from Cassius punching her. “You should get that cleaned up, dear.”

Tav wanted to ask him something, but she hesitated for a moment.

“What did you do to him?” she asked quietly.

There it was again. That look on his face that she could not quite place. Anger? Jealousy? Possessiveness? He quickly replaced it with a smirk.

“I still have a few things to see to before I will return,” Raphael said, ignoring her question and getting up from the chair. “Enjoy your first little taste of privacy, my dear.”

He left her and as promised, no one came to watch her. She was alone for the first time in over a week. There was complete silence. She found herself unable to figure out what to do with herself.

She was left to her thoughts, and it quickly became uncomfortable. She had acted like a good little pet for Raphael, and she was starting to realize that she had almost forgotten that she was there against her will, robbed of her freedom.

She had cowered before him and admitted everything. She had been reminded of what he was capable of and who he really was…and yet…throughout the day she found that she missed him and longed for when he would come home again. And yet, she found herself thinking about what Korrilla had said to her: He favors you, Tav.

Why did that thought excite her? Why did she care that he favored her? She was nothing more than her captor’s favored prisoner, but she found herself feeling warm inside at the thought.

It disgusted her to think of who she was becoming and yet, the feelings were still there...

[reverieblondie]

Could I request headcanons for Raphael, and Haarlep with touch starved gn s/o?

Sorry this took forever to get to you! It's been half finished for weeks but I was finally able to wrap it up! I really do love these bullet point headcannons that deal with a specific type of reader they are fun!

Post with other BG3 boys with touch starved s/o HERE

Haarlep

You have always been good at hiding your inner longing. That aching emptiness that craves touch. It was your weakness, something that you could never tell anyone about you…you would suffer solely to save yourself the embarrassment. You're supposed to be strong, mind filled with ways to help people, there is no time to sit wrapped up in your loneliness… you could have gone to a companion for sure. Everyone knows Karlach is always eager to give a hug, but you knew it would only make you crave it more. Just suffer in silence; don't let anyone know. That worked for you until you ventured into the house of hope. They smelt it on you as soon as you walked through the door; Haarlep's fiery eyes couldn't help but glimmer, their mouth turning into a cruel smirk. A little mouse and a touched-starved one at that. As soon as your eyes met theirs, Haarlep knew they had you ensnared, and they couldn't blame you, their body exposed to all, the sheer heat radiating from them, their words silky and sinful. You had to fight the urge to melt, which Haarlep found quite amusing. Maybe that's why they decided for you to play with them rather than just kill you like they had been told. It was desperate, tender, and ultimately satisfying. From that moment on, even if you didn't know it, Haarlep, in their infinite generosity, vowed you would never be touched starved again. If Haarlep couldn't come to you, they would make sure you could feel their touch, transforming into your form and touching all your most sensitive areas, knowing full well of the shivers and excitement they flooded you with. Nearly every night, Haarlep was desperate for another feeding and would gorge themselves on you. Taste every part, listening to every sweet moan. You are so delicious…it started out as a mutual benefit for you both but slowly built to longer and longer that Haarlep would stay in your bed, holding you close. 

Haarlep would say that they enjoy being touched everywhere; you can use your hands, feet, or tongue, and your pleasure is their pleasure. Though you enjoyed the sentiment of Haarlep saying this, you wanted to find where they liked to be touched. You, of course, knew the obvious place, but you wanted to see if there was more… You framed it as a simple message to thank them for all they do for you. You ran your hands over Haarleps shoulders, neck, thighs. Giving teasing kisses to their ears, stomach, and hands. You finally got what you were looking for when you placed an experimental kiss on the base where their wings reached from their back. A quick shiver, then a low hum, almost like a purr. You felt their body heat up as their wings twighted, silently begging for more. Now, when Haarlep and you engage in your nightly cuddles, you pay extra attention to Haarlep wings. You just love to make them feel special in any way you can. 

When Haarlep is feeling needy, it is obvious…If you're up, they're up; if you're reaching up to grab something off a shelve, Haarlep is snaking their arms around you, pressing kisses to your arching back. If you're trying to take a bath, Haarlep is right there dragging the soap all over your curves as their hard cock sits in your ass, whispering their deepest desires to you, bouncing you slowly. If you are lying down for a nap, Haarlep is curled right behind you, their lips caressing your neck as their warm hands stay pressed to your stomach. Though many would probably grow tired of receiving so much non-stop attention, you could never tire of the feeling of Haarlep lips on your skin. 

Haarlep would never say that they worship anyone…But that was before they met you. Haarlep can't help themselves when it comes to your body; they crave you endlessly. The taste of your sweat, the sound of your moans, the feeling of your warm walls squeezing their cock with every pull, they love how you quiver with every push. They could ravish you endlessly, let years go by, and they would never tire of you. But you're mortal, and your soul is delicate, so they will have to be able to allow you to have your breaks, to let your soul drift back down to your body after every devastating orgasm. The good news is you have adjusted quite well to the hours of cock warming. 

Raphael: 

It was like you didn't even try to hide your desperate need for touch. No, you didn't go around giving everyone a hug, but he saw it when he was watching you, that shy trembling when someone touched you, and how you would place your hand where the former was just to linger in the sensation more. How your eyes seemed to always be in a pleading-like state, begging for any kind of affection…comfort. The thought of his hands touching your skin floods his mind. The feeling of having someone so close like that…he can't help but crave it too. Raphael was a master of temptation; his words promised power and fame, but if you were to tell him what you craved the most…would he offer it to you? You couldn't help yourself; it was all so perfectly orchestrated…his bare chest, the fire that scorched behind him as he asked what you wanted for being a good mouse…his favorite client. Raphael knew as soon as he ghosted his hands over your arms that you were ensnared by him, the great hero, in the arms of a devil… how your body trembles for his attention. What he didn't expect from this deal was how his body would start craving you back. What began as a reward for when you did what he wanted slowly turned into a need you two shared for each other, an intimate closeness that is so sweet and foreign to both of you… After a while, it bloomed into something more; Raphael sees it in your eyes and your touch…he can't say it back, but do you feel it in his touch? The desire he shares with you. 

It's no secret that Raphael is gorgeous… The worst part is that he knew it. Though there's something sexy to the cockiness of that. Raphael assumes your favorite part of him is his angelic face, his hands, his voice perhaps? Imagine his surprise when he learns it's his broad shoulders you just love to run your hands over and dig your nails into, all while your lips bite and suck marks to his neck. Raphael has warned you before about marking up skin…flipping you over face down on the bed, his hot tongue running up your spine. It's your turn for him to mark, and you can't help how your toes curl from the anticipation…

Raphael likes to think his neediness is subtle, but it's not. When you went to bed last, it was in your bed, but now you are wrapped in luxurious silk, laying on top of the cambion, his nails slightly digging into your skin to ensure you don't leave or that nothing takes you from him. For the rest of the day, he takes you everywhere, his hand constantly caressing you by either holding your waist or your hand. He spends the day being a perfect gentleman; you're unsure if there are ulterior motives, so you try to keep your head straight despite it. Raphael understands he is a devil after all, and your wit is something he enjoys about you, amongst other things. It's not until he brings you into his arms after the day is through that you realize this is different…Raphael sways with you slowly as a hauntingly beautiful melody of instruments whispers through the house, his rich voice in your ear as he sings soft, poetic verses of love. It's then that you know that this…this is real for him too. 

"Such an eager pup…" his hands roam over your body as you push him down to his back, your strength apparent by the force. Raphael has been toying with you, and finally, you hit your breaking point. Your hands are fanatic as you rip apart his tunic and unlace his trousers. Raphael had spent days making you burn with withdrawal. His hands only ghosted over your skin, his lips only a whisper away before he would pull back. His bringing you here only to strip for him and then tell you to leave had been the final piece to break your neediness he had been so carefully cultivating. Why did he do this to you? Raphael loves your neediness, loves the feeling of you so eager to push his cock through your entrance, how tears of relief flood your eyes as you bounce on top of him, calling him an arrogant ass as you ravish yourself on him. Raphael is rarely left speechless, but watching your lovesick eyes on him as your body clings, sucking him in deeper, only one word can describe how he feels in this moment looking up at you, love.

[jeeaark]

Tribute to MVP of this fight : Us. Back when the unpatched devourer was a beast.

Never found out what Raph's final form could do thanks to this lil guy. Was hoping Raph couldn't cast magic if he got his brain ate and boy, with luck on my side, did it do more than that. Poor devil guy just kinda stood there while the ghouls took their sweet time eviscerating him.

It was.... A very slow and painful death.

Everyone else just kinda awkwardly stood there and watched since the ghouls left no room to help, probably didn't like sharing their meal.

[scuttlingcrab]

What if Raphael sent Tav an embarrassing gift? Something he'd definitely find pleasure in, but Tav would be mortified to receive? xD

LOL. Thank you for sending me this one. I died writing this, had me grinning from beginning to end. x

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

Notes: Some suggestive imagery from the devil we know and love.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

The Devil's Muse

(Image via keylana-dragon)

“I beg your indulgence. A brief word, before you depart.” 

Raphael spoke in a low rumble, intending his voice for Tav but unperturbed whether or not the other companions overheard him. 

Tav hesitated, her ears perking up as his voice shattered the silence. She hovered near the door of his suite in Sharess’ Caress, halfway through the threshold as she attempted to make her leave. Shadowheart, Astarion, and Karlach waited on the landing outside, the companions lingering like flies on a rotten corpse. 

Raphael casually leaned against the desk, resting his hands on the smooth, rich rosewood. He lightly tapped his fingers on the surface, warming up his digits before the second performance began. 

The little mouse was always the last to leave his company, lagging behind her companions. It was only for a moment, but that was long enough for Raphael to take note, keeping a detailed record after each encounter.

She tried to play coy, never giving Raphael the satisfaction of losing himself in those dark delectable eyes. He could often feel Tav’s gaze on him as soon as he turned his back to her, those eyes burning through his very body and spirit. 

Despite her attempts of acting aloof, with her crossed arms and narrowed lips, she remained at the forefront of their conversations. Raphael would catch her leaning towards him, edging closer as he spoke his rhymes of wisdom and warning. Tav in turn spoke softly when she addressed Raphael, her words blunt yet voice cracking with emotion. 

That confounded mortal fanned the flames of his desires the more detached she presented herself. She was becoming a nuisance; occupying every waking thought and following him freely into every dream. Raphael had an insatiable longing for carnality, his chest overflowing with passion. He had been reduced to his primal instincts, letting his lust for that woman lead his motivations instead of his ambitions for the Crown. He would need to be more cautious. 

“There is one thing I wish to show you… now that the contract has been signed.”

Tav raised an eyebrow, biting her bottom lip as she watched Raphael, waiting for him to continue.

“What in the flaming Hells does he want now?” Karlach shouted, shoving her obnoxious face through the doorway. “C’mon soldier, we need to leave.” 

Karlach placed a hand on Tav’s arm, trying to lure her outside. Tav remained cemented, grabbing Karlach’s hand in return. 

“Hold on a minute.” Tav responded, “let’s hear what he has to say.”

“It would be in your best interest, little mouse, if it was just the two of us.” An edge of warning in Raphael’s tone.

“Oh, go on then, devil.” Karlach sneered.

“Come now, Karlach, no need to be unpleasant. Can we not speak with civility?” 

Tav regarded the situation with curiosity, her intense stare shifting around the room. Raphael could just about hear the rusted cogs turning inside of that tadpoled infested brain of hers.

Tav nodded, walking to the centre of the suite. 

“Alright, Raphael. I’m not interested in any more secrets. Whatever you have to say or show can be done in front of everyone.”

Karlach stomped her way into the room, standing close behind Tav. The Tiefling's infernal engine roared, the flames in her chest growing more chaotic as she shot Raphael a scathing glance. Shadowheart and Astarion shared a few hushed words as they followed Karlach, shuffling reluctantly back inside the Devil’s Den. 

“So be it, if you insist.” 

Raphael snapped his fingers and a large painting sizzled into view, suspended above them. The entire party gasped in unison. 

“A gift for my new treasured client.”

The painting showcased Tav reclining on a leather chaise lounge against a dark grey backdrop, her body bending with pleasure. She was draped in a red robe, the sleeves falling loosely off her slender shoulders, stopping just above the hill of her breasts. Her eyes were closed and her lips wore a savoury smile, as if she was on the cusp of release. Her dark wavy hair poured off the edge of the furniture like a waterfall. 

Raphael beamed, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he respected the painting in the very presence of his muse. He had painted Tav’s likeness from memory, hoping he would be able to do her justice by capturing her unique beauty on the canvas. 

Whether Tav signed Raphael’s contract that afternoon was debatable, he would’ve delivered his gift to the little mouse regardless of the outcome.

He had worked diligently behind the scenes since their last rendezvous in the Shadow-Cursed Lands; sketching mockups, painting, re-painting, one failed canvas after another, until he successfully recreated the image that plagued his mind for what felt like an eternity.

Raphael knew it would never be perfect, he still found flaws as he stared at the painting; minor errors in the brushstrokes, a few shadows that could’ve perhaps been blended better. He only hoped it added to the charm and the little mouse would not notice. 

Raphael returned his attention to his guests, immediately observing Tav. She was frozen in place, her eyes wide and fixed on the painting, as if she was hypnotised by it. There was something different to her face now, something Raphael always yearned to see from the mortal. A faint gleam in those eyes, a playful smile slowly crawling up her delicate lips the more she stared at the artwork. Had he stirred something in the little mouse? At long last? 

“Perhaps, at a later time, we can admire it together, once the Crown is in my possession, yes? Until then, it will remain in my House of Hope. For safekeeping, naturally.”

“This has got to be a fucking joke, right?” Karlach shouted, getting in between Tav and Raphael. “I told you he was a creep!”

“I don’t know, it does capture her essence... in a drab, lifeless kind of way.” Shadowheart murmured, her cheeks blushing as she continued to gape at the painting.  

“And here I was thinking only his poetry was questionable.” Astarion whispered, giggling like an ill-behaved schoolboy. 

“I often forget how ignorant you mortals are. A pity.” 

Raphael straightened his posture and kept his chin held high. He tightly clasped his hands behind his back, imagining what it would feel like to have his fingers around the companions' brittle necks, ridding them of their pitiful lives. Those foolish twits would feel his wrath in due time. Perhaps one, or two, would perish when they fought the Elder Brain. Yes, that would be most preferable.

Raphael instead approached Tav, ignoring the companions and their onslaught of criticisms. He turned to face the painting, standing beside her. Raphael could see Tav out of the corner of his eye, feeling the warmth radiating off her body as she continued to stare at the artwork. 

“I never took you for a painter, Raphael.”  

“I occasionally dabble in mortal amusements from time to time, when I’m feeling inclined.”

“And do you always give your clients such risqué gifts? These types of things are open to suggestions.” 

“It’s an innocent gift, I assure you. But now I am most curious, what does this painting tell you?”

Raphael crossed his arms, his fingers trembling as he raised a hand to his chin, anticipating her answer. 

“A promise of what could be? Maybe what more could be offered?”

“Very astute. I have been known to provide exceptional entertainment when certain deals have been met.”

Raphael tilted his head, taking an opportunity to lean towards Tav. It was a subtle gesture, but their bodies were now touching, linked together. With his arms still crossed, he removed an index finger from his lower extremity, lightly caressing Tav’s exposed forearm. The little mouse did not flinch at his touch but he saw her smile grow. 

“One note though.” Tav whispered. 

“Go on?” 

“I think my jawline is a bit off, don’t you think?”

Raphael bit his tongue, unsure whether he wanted to incinerate the little mouse or take her by the neck and violently kiss her.

Raphael had Tav's signature but he’d only praise the occasion when that little mouse bestowed the Crown to him. Her contract didn’t amount to a hill of beans when compared to his grander schemes. Raphael would not rest until he had succeeded in his plight to unite the Nine Hells, until he faced Mephistopheles, and claimed his birthright. 

Raphael had once made a promise to himself not to allow any distractions. It was too perilous, opening him up to failure and eternal punishment. But that damned little mouse found a way through his defences, crept through the cracks of what he thought was a sturdy foundation. The woman had caught Raphael in her snare. Until he held her in his arms, until she was his, she would continue to plague his dreams. Perhaps along the road to ascension, he would add Tav’s heart to his list of conquests. 

“I will make sure to keep that in mind for my next piece.” Raphael noted, turning to face the rest of the party. 

The silence was heavy, the awkwardness weighing on the companions. Raphael stared at each of them until they looked away, unable to handle the intense heat of his gaze without melting. 

“You may take your leave. The room is getting far too crowded for my tastes.” Raphael waved the party off, walking back to his desk. He left the painting floating above him. 

“Gods, I thought he’d never ask. Fucking prick.” Karlach whispered, practically sprinting out the room. 

“Tav, you owe me a damned drink.” Astarion groaned.

Shadowheart had no words, but she curiously eyed the painting a final time before trailing after Astarion. 

“Don’t disappoint me, little mouse. The fate of the world, our very futures, hang over your shoulders.”

Tav remained in the room, staring amorously into Raphael’s eyes. He held his breath, relishing the seconds he was allowed to devour her magnificence.

“Thank you." Tav mouthed, and quickly made her exit.

Raphael released a sigh, resting a hand on his desk to keep himself from combusting. That damned woman.

The curtain had fallen on this act, but it was not yet the finale. Change was brewing, mists of uncertainty clouding Raphael’s judgement, and for once, he was not fearful of what was to come.

[dark-and-kawaii]

Just a thought came to mind! How do you feel about Raphael, Haarlep, Rolan, and Zevlor being spanked by you (with consent of course!)? I'm curious :3

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭*✩‧₊ When Love Gets A Little Cheeky

⊹ D’awh this is so adorably cute!!! They all have nice booties so yes!!! Let’s smack some bg3 ass!!!!

⊹ Content: Smacking Some Ham ♡ ♡ ♡ - Cheeky - Cute - Teasing

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Zevlor

Watching Zevlor do just about anything is like a treat for your eyes. The way his muscles ripple beneath the white fabric of his linen shirt when he does anything, it’s hard not to drool a little. But right now, as he bends to grab the cloth he dropped, you suddenly notice just how fine his backside is…

You’re sitting there, legs crossed, completely entranced. Your body seems to have a mind of its own as you quietly get up and make your way over to him, hands tucked behind your back, cheeks flushed with a mischievous grin. Just as he straightens up, your hand playfully lands a cheeky smack on his rear!

Zevlor’s reaction was so priceless, so cute as his tail shoots straight up, spinning around, utterly bewildered at the sudden violation of his privacy. His eyes meet your beautiful face, which is lit up with the biggest, most innocent smile and blush.

You giggle, “Sorry! I just couldn’t resist! It’s just so nice and it was just staring at me!” Your lashes flutter, laughing, and gaze up at him with the same sweet expression.

It takes him a moment but soon his body relaxes, the look of confusion on his face replaced with that sweet and kind smile of his, that smile that always makes you fall for him over and over again, “You should wane on the side of caution, my dear. One might think that you were flirting with me.” His tail slinked up around your waist to pull you closer, making you giggle again.

You rest your hands on his chest, giving it a playful rub, eyes twinkling as you reply, “Gasp! Flirt with a hellspawn? Never!” You bite your lip with a cheeky grin, leaning into him, fingers toying with his shirt buttons.

Zevlor chuckles, “Well then, I suppose it is I who should wane on the side of caution in such a situation. The look you're giving me suggests I might have a succubus in my arms.” He leans down to capture your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your neck as his tail holds you close.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Haarlep

Sneaking up on Haarlep? Yeah, that wasn’t really your strong suit. Even now, as you watch the creature sprawled out on your bed, lying in his stomach with that tempting ass of his in the perfect position to be played with- just begging to be smacked...

But Haarlep, being the ever tease he was, just laid there, his eyes closed as he played along with your games. The incubus is always so eager to see what you’re planning.

You try, oh how you try so quietly to sneak up on your incubus, standing beside the bedside where he lounges, eyes locked on that irresistible ass. Just as you think you’ve finally did it- that you finally were able to land the perfect blow, your hand coming down- his tail snakes around your wrist… And with a swift tug, you’re forced to fall onto his back.

“Now, now, what have we here~? What mischief are you up to, my little dove?” That voice, that sultry whisper that always sends a delicious shiver down your spine, “Up to no good again, I see? Whatever shall I do about this~?” As his tail releases your wrist, it swoops down deliver a smack to your own ass, “Looks like I’ll have to teach you a lesson or two~”

Deep down, you knew it would end up like this, but honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way~

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Raphael

Lounging in the House of Hope, you watched your devil as he paced around, examining his latest contract. The parchment was so insignificant compared to that handsome smirk playing on his lips, how his tail swayed, and you couldn’t help but admire how his pants hugged his rear just right.

You felt so incredibly lucky to be in his presence, grateful he decided to keep you around so that you could enjoy the view of such eye candy.

As he approached where you were soaking in his healing bath, he lowered the contracts so that he could glance down at you with a dark chuckle, “Enjoying yourself, mous?”

You tilted your head with a playful smile, “would be better if I had a certain devil I knew in here with me~” you replied, lifting your leg out of the tub in a teasing manner.

“In due time.” he murmured, beginning to walk away.

But patience wasn’t on your agenda today, not at all. Feeling a bit bratty and craving his attention, you decided to make a move. With haste, you stepped out of the water, careful not to slip as you dashed up to him, delivering a playful smack to his ass.

You watched as his shoulders tensed and his tail froze mid sway. As he turned to face you, his little mouse, you flashed him a toothy grin, stuck your tongue out, and scampered back to the bath, read for the cat and mouse game you knew he enjoyed so much~

Peeking out from the water, you watch him observiently.

“My, my, how Ill mannered of you, little mouse.” He mused, snapping his fingers to make the contract vanish. In an instant, he also disappeared only to appear behind you, pressing against your backside, his body pinning you against the edge of the bath. His large hand cupping your ass possessively.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ Rolan

Rolan was always the serious type, nose buried in his scrolls and potions. Even now as you visited him in his tower, he’s all about his work. You let out a dramatic sigh, plopping yourself onto his desk, watching him with nothing but boredom in your eyes.

Hopping off his wooden desk, you lean against him, your chest brushing up against his arm as you grin wide at him. Rolan barely spares you a glance, sighing, “Can I help you with something?”

“Just watchin!~” You chirp, wiggling your hips before slipping behind him. He’s so absorbed in his potion and scroll. Leaning back, your hands come up to frame his cute little butt like a camera lens.

“So adorable~” You whisper under your breath.

“What was tha-?”

Your hand suddenly claps down somewhat hard on his ass, causing Rolan to let out a cry, and the potion in his hands to go everywhere. He doesn’t have to turn around so you can see his reaction. From how he suddenly froze and his whole body tensed up, you can tell that the poor tiefling is stunned.

You bite back a laugh, a small squeak coming from your mouth as you cover your mouth. Rolan, on the other hand, lets out a strangled noise from his throat as he slowly turns his head towards you. His eyes are narrowed, and the tips of his ears an even brighter red.

A smirk graces your lips as you reach up to tap his nose, “Oops! There was a fly there~” you wink.

Rolan sighs heavily, his face falling into his hands as he shakes his head.

He swore you were going to be the death of him.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

dark/cunty raphael, devils being devils (this has been done to death but i just wanted to write him being awful) once again thank you @pouralaura for your advice and encouragement you are the best

Read on AO3

-

He wasn't supposed to be back yet.

He wasn't supposed to be back yet.

Tav panicked. Wide eyed, she pleaded with Hope's flickering apparition. “Are you sure?” She hissed. “Are you sure he's back?”

“YesyesYES can't you feel it?! He's home, the master is home and he brings blood and pain and death!” Hope shrieked. “I have to go, you have to go, we all have to go!”

“No, Hope, wait! I need your help!”

“I can't help you anymore,” the poor crazed thing said, coherent for this moment just to fix Tav with a sad, pitying look. “Just like you can't help me anymore. But thanks for trying. I'll remember it forever. He's going to hurt you and he's going to kill you and I'm sorry.”

Her phantom faded into nothing and Tav was left alone in the claustrophobic halls. Maybe she tripped a hidden alarm or ward. Maybe she simply took too long. All she knew was that, if Hope was right, she'd squandered likely the only chance she had of sneaking into Raphael's home and taking the hammer. And Hope was definitely right. Tav felt it. A change to the air. The wailing of souls muted, exhalated. 

He was here.

The plan had been very simple: her friends distract Raphael by pretending to consider and discuss his contract “behind her back”, and she heads to the diabolist to get a portal open, go in, steal the hammer, and leave. It was much easier to sneak a single person through, and Raphael would've been none the wiser. Only, she wasn't prepared enough for the House of Hope. She wasn't prepared for its namesake. She wasn't prepared for Raphael's dark, dirty secrets parading in her face. 

Gale called her ludicrous. Mad. Idiotic. And yet when she pressed him for a better option, for a way to keep the crown and save Orpheus from the Emperor's vile clutches, he came up empty. They were stretched thin, resources and resilience at their breaking points.

“Let it be me, then,” he'd said. “Let it be me who gets the hammer.”

“I'm a better sneak than you,” Tav had argued. She was willing to take the risk for him. So he could be free of Mystra, free of the orb. Free. He knew. He'd pressed their foreheads together, holding her close.

“Come back to me,” he'd whispered. “Promise you'll come back.”

Tav might not be able to deliver the hammer, but she could still escape. All she had to do was hide, and sneak back to her portal before Raphael found her. The house was so big, like a damn maze. Tav tried to remember where she'd come from, where she'd left her portal, but the gaudy halls and creepy gilded statues all looked the same. She thought she recognised the dining room from when he'd first brought her here so long ago, taunting her with the offer of aid. The table was covered in rotten food. Mutilated skeletons filled the seats. Shaken, Tav moved on.

Shit.

She caught sight of Raphael prowling the corridors outside, his expression stormy. He was still in his human guise, but his hellish fury bubbled just barely beneath the surface. Swallowing a sharp inhale before it gave her away, Tav tucked herself behind a pillar and prayed he hadn’t seen her.

“I know you're here, little mouse,” he rumbled, burning brown eyes scanning every nook and cranny. Tav bit her lip. Her stomach dropped. He exuded overwhelming diabolical power. Tav knew she stood no chance against him alone. “You must think me a dullard. Your friends show up at the Devil's Den without you, interested in a contract of all things when they were so staunchly against me before, and then I feel my wards breached telling me there is an intruder scurrying about my home…why, such coincidental timing. I wonder, who could be creeping around? What could they be looking for?”

In hindsight, the plan was never going to work. Of course he had wards everywhere. Of course he was too clever for their ruse. But they were desperate. Just as the devil promised they would be, by the end. Just the way he wanted them. All hope wasn't yet lost. If she could only escape…

“Did you think you could fool me? That any hair-brained schemes concocted in your simple, tadpole-addled minds would succeed? It's almost amusing, were it not so outrageous.” Raphael ranted. So verbose even in his anger. And yet, Tav could hear his liquid smile in the words he purred next. “How about this? For old times’ sake, for my most cherished client who never was… If you show yourself now and beg me well enough, I might make your death quick. But the longer you hide, the longer it takes for me to find you - and I will find you - the longer I'll spend peeling your pretty skin from your flesh.”

The devil was striding away, deeper into his house. Tav snatched the opportunity to dart out into the foyer. She remembered now, those big metal doors. Where Hope had first been waiting. Tav’s portal was behind them. Poor Hope. Rejuvenated by relief, Tav vowed to find a way to save her. Even if she had to storm the house again, with her team this time, and swing the cudgel of justice down on Raphael’s head. Smash his dirty devil brains out. She’d relish doing so. The doors were ajar. Tav slipped through. She could practically taste her safety. The grungy corrupted streets of Baldur’s Gate had never been so welcoming…

Except there was no portal.

For a moment she simply stood there in disbelief. Denial. A scorched circle on the marble floor was the lone indicator that a portal had ever existed in the first place. A taunting shadow. As she stared at nothing, the damned souls forever trapped - just like her - seemed to laugh. 

Despair. The likes of which Tav hadn’t felt since she awoke on the beach and realised everything that happened on the nautiloid wasn’t a bad dream. It crawled up her throat and threatened to make her scream. She stuffed the meat of her hand in her mouth and bit down. The pain grounded her. Panic wouldn’t help. There had to be other portals. Ones Raphael or his cronies used to get about in the material plane. She’d jump through one of them. It didn’t matter where she ended up; it would be easy enough to get back to Baldur’s Gate. She crept out into the halls again. A flash of red in the corner of her eye catapulted her into motion. She’d never been more aware of the noise her boots made, how heavy her footsteps were, how loud each panting breath was. She ran, crawled behind a big statue, and made herself as small as possible. 

“Come out, little mouse,” the devil crooned sweet poison from somewhere, his voice drifting through the empty spaces of his home, echoing off the walls and floors, impossible to ignore. “Come out come out, wherever you are…”

Fear bubbled in Tav’s churning  gut. Her heart pounded against her ribs in protest. In her ever-shrinking world of mind flayers, crazed cultists, monsters and apostles and madness, Raphael had been but a blip on her threat radar. She hadn’t given him much concern, or consideration. A mistake. One she might not live to rectify.

I’m sorry, Gale…

“It was bold of you to come here alone, you know. Bold, but so very foolish. I suppose you got the idea in your worm-eaten skull that you were faster than your companions. Stealthier. Or was it they who convinced you?” Raphael’s tone twisted, honed into a dagger aiming at a specific target. A soft target. “I wonder, did they do it because they really thought you might succeed? Or because they knew you wouldn’t? A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, after all…”

Tav chewed the inside of her cheek. Raphael, she’d learned, was very good at hurting people without even raising a finger. Words were weapons for him as much as his claws or infernal magics. She wouldn’t let him bait her.

Peering out of her spot, the coast was clear enough for Tav to risk moving. She thought about it. The devil was quiet, had been for a little while, either out of things to say - unlikely - or finally far away enough that she could no longer hear him. After another few moments of hesitation, Tav took the chance, flitting down an empty corridor. Prayed the next room she entered would hold something useful. 

She never made it.

As she rounded a corner, a hand shot out and snatched her by the hair. Thick fingers dug into her scalp, yanked her so harshly a joint in her neck popped. 

“Got you,” the devil snarled, right into her ear. Tav shrieked, instinctively scratching at Raphael’s hand. All it seemed to do was incense him further. 

“Let go of me!” She yelled.

“Oh, how the mouse squirms when it’s been caught,” Raphael intoned, low, almost sensual were it not for the bite of murder lingering in the depths. He manipulated her to look at him, so she could see the contempt and loathing on his handsome face. “But you aren’t a mouse, are you? No. You’re a rat. Just like your little friends.”

“Did you hurt them?!” The pain of her hair being pulled at the roots made tears bead at the corners of Tav’s eyes. She fought to regain her footing. Glared at Raphael anyway.

“And what would you do if I had?” The devil jeered. He released her hair, only to close his fist around her throat instead. “No, no. Despite your collective stupidity, someone still needs to clean up the mess that is the netherbrain. Although I don’t imagine they have much chance of success after this…” Raphael squeezed her throat harder. Claws dug pinpricks into her skin as he let his rage change him, shed his human disguise. He shook her, easily lifting her from the ground so her legs dangled, black and orange eyes ferocious. “You had every opportunity to accept my deal. It was fair. The hammer for the crown. An artefact you cannot even hope to use or understand, for the only chance you had to free yourself from the Emperor. To free Orpheus. And yet you’ve chosen to spit in my face despite my patience, my clemency. Why?” 

Tav gagged, struggled to speak around her crushing windpipe. Black spots began to dance at the edges of her vision. The devil loosened his grip enough so she could answer. His pride demanded it. “You…the crown should…go to Mystra. For Gale. He spoke to her. She said…said she could fix him, get rid of the orb if…if he…the crown…” Tav broke off, coughing, choking, gasping for air. Her tears finally spilled over, dripping down her cheeks.

“You’ve done this for Gale?” Raphael seethed with peculiar jealousy. He dropped her, watched her stumble. Then he laughed; a cruel, sharp sound that went on for too long. “If you truly believe your precious wizard intends to return the crown to his cantankerous trollop ex-lover instead of using it for himself, then you are more naive and gullible than I ever imagined.”

Tav scowled, rubbing her neck. “He promised,” she rasped. “He…”

“He promised,” the devil mocked. “Oh yes, I’m sure he did. I’m sure he meant it.”

“He wouldn’t lie! He’s never lied to me!”

Raphael tilted his horn-crowned head. Stared at her like she was an idiot. “Hasn’t he?” 

Just like before, Raphael was aiming for her soft spots - but this time, this one, was already bruised. He was right. Gale had lied. About the orb, about his feelings for Mystra, even about abandoning his desire to ascend. The first thing he’d done when he learned the true nature of the crown was consider how he could take advantage of it. Not the behaviour of a man changed. But Tav had faith in him. Believed in him. Her niggling doubts meant nothing. 

“No.” She said in defiance. Ignored the way her weak voice wobbled. “You’re just trying to poison me against him. You don’t understand anything.”

“Don’t I?” Raphael crooned, viciously amused. “I think it’s you who doesn't understand. Let me put it this way, so that even you can comprehend: why would a power-hungry magelet with a chip on his shoulder abandon decades of ambition for some little bint he found on the roadside, when he could have hundreds – thousands of warm and willing holes to wet his cock with if he becomes a so-called god? Do you think you’re worth that sacrifice? Does Gale think you are? I’m sure he says lots of sweet things when he’s inside you, just as I’m sure he said the same things to Mystra, and we all know how that worked out…”

“Stop,” Tav begged. Sobbed. 

“No,” the devil sneered. Utterly merciless. “It’s high time you faced the reality of your actions. You have doomed a future for the githyanki free from tyranny, you have doomed your friends’ chance to escape the emperor’s machinations, and you have doomed yourself, sweet pet, to reap what you sow – all for the sake of a man who rolled over you because you were the first woman in years to say yes. You wanted to enter my house without permission? Fine. Then you’ll stay for eternity.”

She recoiled in horror, the implication making her blood run cold. She’d rather he killed her and he knew it. “You can’t keep me here!”

“I think you’ll find I can, girl,” Raphael said, malicious, quiet. His gaze flayed her alive, peeled away layers of skin and muscle to stare at her very soul. “For in this house, in this pocket of Hell, I am the master, and that means I can do whatever I want.”

A sick, bitter pill to swallow: he was right.

“Fine!” Tav laughed maniacally, the futility of the situation driving her to reckless anger. “Fine, you evil bastard! I suppose you’ll have a pet squid soon, then. Have you always wanted one of those? Was it a boyhood dream, if you were a boy once? I hear ink stains are a bitch to get out of silk rugs.” As soon as she said it, Tav wished she had kept her mouth shut. She’d done everything wrong since entering that portal. Everything. Raphael’s shrewd hellish eyes narrowed as he considered something. Tav watched him raise his fingers, ready to snap, with dawning horror; if he did this, she wouldn’t just be stuck with him forever. She would owe him forever. A fate so much worse. “No! Wait! You don’t – I’m sure I won’t transform! It’s different in Hell, right?!” 

“I’d rather not take the chance,” Raphael murmured, enjoying this moment of despair. “I’m not too fond of tentacles, you see. And besides…I promised I could be your saviour, didn’t I? Even though you hardly deserve it, I'm nothing if not magnanimous, after all.”

CLICK. 

Such a small sound heralding a monumental, irreversible change.

Agony. The likes of which Tav couldn’t comprehend. Her skull splitting apart, bursting from the inside, her brains chewed up and spat out, eyes and teeth and tongue destroyed, sinuses burning…it only lasted for a few brief seconds, maybe, but the next thing she knew she was on her hands and knees. Frothy blood and bile oozed from her nose and mouth. Her body shook violently. Her head felt like it was full of water. She wasn’t sure, but she might have pissed herself a little bit. She stared up at the devil through bleary wet eyes and saw him watching her. Savouring her suffering. Floating in his palm was her tadpole, sluggish and covered in gore. Covered in her brains. 

“Hmmm…I suppose I could have used less force for the extraction,” Raphael mused, unapologetic. He squinted at the ugly cosmic horror larva with disdain. “I was led to believe these things were near-impossible to remove. Clearly not. Such weak magic. That worthless boy still has a lot to learn.” He curled his fingers inward and the tadpole caught fire, writhing and screaming as it died. Rendered to ash. Then he smiled at Tav, placid, almost business-like, as if he hadn’t just up-ended her entire existence. Her suffering had greatly improved his mood. “There we are. Now you won’t have to worry about those lovely guts of yours dissolving any time soon. Not before I get to sample them, at least.”

“I’d rather be a mind flayer,” Tav slurred quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt hollow. Without that tadpole – as awful as it had been – she couldn’t reach her friends or even the emperor to beg for help. She knew they were pragmatic. They would stick to the plan, even Gale. They’d realise something went wrong and cut their losses. Poor Orpheus. She’d known the risk, being the one breaking in. Made certain they wouldn’t risk storming this infernal psycho’s little castle to rescue her, not when the elder brain was so unstable and they were so close to vanquishing the Absolute cult, but at least pretending it was an option would’ve given her something to hold onto. 

“And ruin that delightful complexion of yours? Perish the thought.” The devil reached to wrap one big paw around her forearm and tugged her upright. Tav was too weak to pull away. She barely stayed on her feet. The room and everything in it swayed. Until it was forced to stop by his hot clawed hand holding her jaw firm. Raphael’s image swam into focus. He gently turned her head this way and that. He was examining her; examining his new property. His new trophy. “Can’t fault the magelet’s taste. You are a pretty little thing. And now you’re my pretty little thing.”

He pushed his thumb into her mouth. She could taste the sulphur and hellish magic even over the copper sticking to her gums and teeth. She bit him, tried to, but Raphael wasn’t phased. He dug his thumb claw into her tongue instead, pressing until he pierced the muscle, until Tav cried out. Fresh blood welled from the small puncture wound.

“Behave,” the devil simply said, like he was talking to a naughty puppy. 

“Never,” Tav spat. Raphael seemed to like that answer, if the sparkle in his eyes and his rich chuckle were any indication. 

“Oh, you’ll learn, my little pet. One way or the other.” He dragged his thumb out of her mouth, smearing blood and spit across her lips. His pupils expanded as he looked upon her. He found this arousing, Tav realised, more repulsed than she’d ever been in her life. 

“You make me sick,” she hissed. 

“You have no idea just how sick I could truly make you,” he purred around a sinister smile, “but we have all the time in the world for that, don’t we? Thanks to you, I’ve got a lot more work to do now. Plans to tweak, contingencies to set up, that sort of thing. I don’t expect you to understand, but unfortunately it means I won’t be able to break you in quite yet. But fret not, you shan’t be alone. Haarlep can keep an eye on you until I return.”

Tav didn’t get the chance to ask what a Haarlep was. Raphael displaced them both into the boudoir. So sudden, and she was still so unsteady. She’d have fallen on her face if Raphael wasn’t holding her. Instead she leaned on him until her vision stopped spinning. He chuckled cruelly. 

“Not to worry, love. I’ve got you.”

Tav yanked herself free – he let her go this time – and staggered away from him, collapsing onto the big bed nearby. She wasn’t the only one sprawled on those red silk sheets; a creature that looked like Raphael but softer, younger, and dressed much skimpier, lounged. He perked up with interest, peering at her. Two of them…Tav truly was in Hell.

“What’s this?” The lookalike asked in a perfect, if airy, imitation of Raphael’s voice. 

“A new pet. Clean her up. And don’t do anything else or you’ll be skinned and hung out to dry like Nubaldin. I mean it, Haarlep.” 

Another click of those devilish fingers and Raphael was gone. Haarlep crawled across the bed like a huge, nasty cat, eyeing Tav up and down.

“Hmm…not quite breeding stock, but I suppose you’ll do.” He pawed at her. “Come on, then. Get up.”

“Take your hands off me!” Tav cringed away, drooling pinkish red froth. “I’ll kill you, I swear it.”

Haarlep tutted, amused. “You couldn’t kill a mouse right now, little pet. And I don’t need your compliance to get you off this bed. There are many ways, and I can’t promise you’ll enjoy all of them…”

The suggestion in his voice made Tav grit her bloodied teeth. Her skin crawled. “You’re just as twisted as Raphael, aren’t you?”

Haarlep cackled. “Oh no, sweet thing. I’m much worse.”

Tav ended up in the luxurious bathing pool, only after Haarlep callously pulled her clothes and armour off, telling her she should get used to it because the concept of her privacy no longer existed. The steaming water seemed to heal her physical injuries, easing the savage pain in her skull, but that simply meant she had more cognizance to think about how awful her situation really was. Her attempt at drowning herself was thwarted by a heavy clawed hand pulling her head out of the water by her hair. They seemed to like doing that, these fiends.

“Now, now. Don’t make me charm you,” Haarlep chided as Tav coughed and sputtered. “As funny as it would be for my brat to come back to a floating corpse, he obviously doesn’t want you dead yet, and I’d rather not be flayed. It’s not as erotic as those priests of pain make it out to be, trust me.”

“Fuck you,” Tav spat, digging her nails into Haarlep’s hand. He didn’t seem to feel it. Just like his master. A fly biting a dragon.

“In due time, lovely. In due time. Now…do you prefer red or gold?”

Like an overzealous child with a new doll, Haarlep stuffed Tav into a gold silken house robe – sheer, reaching just above her knees, thin enough that her nipples were easy to see. By this point she was despondent, allowing him to pull her this way and that. When he deemed her “good enough” he grew bored of her and went back to lounging on the bed. Tav wandered the boudoir aimlessly, not really seeing anything, until she found herself on a balcony overlooking the destitute landscape of Avernus from a great height. The House of Hope must be floating somewhere, she thought absently. Isolated even in Hell. If she jumped, Tav wondered how long she’d be falling before she hit the ground and what kind of mess she’d leave behind.

“Don’t even think about it,” Haarlep cheerfully called to her. 

Tav slid to the ground, buried her face in her knees, and wept. 

-

Time passed differently, strangely, in Hell. Tav existed in a fugue state of misery, unable to be sure. Days, weeks, months could have passed since she failed to steal from Raphael; since Raphael stole her. Almost all of it had been spent in the boudoir, an incubus and cambion her keepers both. 

She sat on the balcony when Raphael came to her, as she often did. Passing the minutes, hours, staring out at Avernus. The devil had been away for a while. He smelled of fresh air, of the material plane, taunting her with what she’d never experience again. He seemed strangely pleased despite all his plans going awry. “I thought you might like to know that your friends destroyed the brain,” he told her as he poured himself some wine. “Baldur’s Gate – and Faerun as a whole, is saved.”

At least that was a relief. 

“And you should also know that Gale decided to use the crown of Karsus to ascend. I believe he is now calling himself the god of ambition…how very droll.” Although Tav had come to accept this was a likely outcome, the information still sank like a rock in her stomach; of course, the devil wasn’t done. “I had thought he might come knocking at my door, threatening to smite me should I not release your soul, but…it seems your darling has forgotten about you, pet. Much more interesting things to do now that he’s reached the Heavens, I would imagine.”

Tav bit her tongue. Hope truly came to these cursed halls to die. Snuffed out before it had a chance to unfurl, but she wouldn’t give this wretch the satisfaction of knowing she was upset. 

“So…what are you going to do, then? The crown is completely out of your reach.” She thought that would sting him. An acknowledgement of his own failure. Of a dream ruined. If he lashed out, all the better, because she’d know she’d got under his skin. Small (miniscule) victories. 

“Hmm…for now,” he hummed. He swirled the wine in his goblet as he spoke. “You see, I came to quite an interesting realisation. Had you honoured the deal, I could have taken the crown and ascended to Archdevil Supreme. Yes, I could have conquered the Hells and perhaps moved on to other realms to unite under my power, but there would have always been a place I simply couldn’t reach.”

“The heavens…” Tav breathed in slow, horrifying realisation. Raphael smiled widely, dark eyes glittering. 

“Yes, very good. Right where your little godlet is now. The very place he will eventually destroy. Just like Karsus, Gale Dekarios’ hubris will ruin him. Unlike Karsus, Gale will bring the heavens down with him, and when he does, who shall be there to gleefully sift through the ashes but I? You see, I will get the crown, my dear, sweet pet. All I have to do is wait.” He reached forward, tucking a lock of Tav’s hair behind her ear. His touch deceptively tender. Like a lover. “I should thank you, in fact. If you hadn’t broken into my home, it’s likely you would have convinced Gale to give the crown to Mystra, and then it truly would have been beyond my grasp. But without your voice of reason and support, well…old habits die hard, don’t they? I must say, I’m looking forward to the day the heavens crumble. The collapse of Karsus’ empire was breathtaking, but this…oh, this will be something else entirely. And don’t worry, pet. Whether it happens in one hundred years or one thousand, I’ll make sure you’re there to see it, too.”