#warlock!tav

[atrueneutral]

Any thoughts on warlock!Tav? I don't know which would be more fun, having Raphael as a patron or Raphael being jealous of Tav's patron 🤭

They were four moves in, and Tav had yet to learn why Raphael had called her to the Devil’s Den.

She doubted it was as simple as a ‘friendly match of lanceboard’; there was always something just shy of his ambitious reach, and she was waiting for when he would be forthright about what that something was.

Thus far for their appointment, the fiend (in his mortal disguise) offered only polite pleasantries; an inquiry about how she was faring after being rid of the tadpole, a recommendation that she try a glass of ‘perfectly aged wine he’d been saving for her’, and, of course, a ‘friendly’ game of lanceboard (to ‘personally witness her strategic skills in action’).

And here they were; barely talking as she concentrated with a pinched brow on what move to make next, all while Raphael stared at her with a glint in his eye and the faintest of smirks on his lips.

She was a piece down (lanceboard was not a strong suit of hers), meaning he was in the lead.

Which was probably the main reason as to why he looked so arrogant and relaxed.

Tav bit her lip in question of whether to move her priest or send out another pawn.

“Am I correct in the knowledge that you’ve been in a pact with your patron for a few years?” he asked.

More pleasantries - so that the scales of their appointment didn’t tip towards awkwardness.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Tav answered softly. The reply was automatic; all attention was centered on the game before her.

She wanted to win - especially when her opponent was none other than Raphael.

The white priest slid to a free space, and, in response, Raphael swiftly mirrored a similar move with his black priest.

“Tell me about this patron of yours, my dear.”

Her previously focused gaze flicked up from the board to meet that oh-so-devilish glint, and, in response, Tav’s eyes mirrored his in forming a glint of their own; it was a mischievous twinkle that her fey patron would appreciate and applaud - hence why the pact was offered to her to begin with.

After all, it wasn’t every day that a mortal outtricked a trickster in the middle of a dangerous wood.

“They’re from the feywild,” Tav said, her brow pinching again in pretend consideration of her the next (literal) move. Yes, lanceboard was assuredly not her strong suit, but games involving ‘Reactions from Raphael’ were a favored pastime she excelled in. “I’d ask if you knew him, or of him, but he never gave me his name…”

She glanced up, and at the mention of ‘him’, a muscle twitched in Raphael’s cheek.

“Perhaps you could describe this patron, and I would know their name? I’m versed enough in the archfey and the dealings of their ilk,” he said with the offhanded shrug of a shoulder.

What a wonderful idea!

“That’s a wonderful idea!” At that, Tav mentally bid the game of lanceboard farewell. She lifted a foot to sit on the cushion with her and rested her elbow upon her knee. Her cheek leaned into the palm of her hand, and a wistful expression was painted upon her face. “With as often as I think of him, he should be easy enough to recall…”

Raphael’s glint was becoming lost to an approaching fire on the horizon.

“He’s tall, dark, handsome - the classic, romantic type from the stories. His hair color reminds me of yours, actually, but it’s a fair bit longer - goes past his shoulders, and not a strand is out of place. Now that I think about it, he’s about your height, too. Slightly less broad-shouldered, more wiry I’d say, but still quite muscular. Not sure what he was doing in the middle of the woods without a shirt, but, hey, that’s the fey for you…”

None of it was true; Puck was a small and sprightly creature with rosy cheeks and other impish features. His hair was not long and tidy, having been an unkempt mess adorned with twigs and leaves at the time of their meeting, and also unlike her false rendering, the fey’s childlike frame had been dressed in greenery and animal skins.

“He’s very strong! Lifted me easily - ah, forgive me. That probably doesn’t help you much…”

Raphael was battling a sneer, and his relaxed pose was becoming less relaxed the more she went on.

So Tav did the next best thing.

She continued.

“There was a…” She tried to find the correct word while miming in the air with her free hand. “Certain regalness about him. I thought he might be a part of some high court of some kind. He appeared in fog and left in fog, but not before offering me a pact - which I accepted, naturally.” Tav sighed. “The whirlwind encounter, however brief it was, left me breathless. I’m so grateful to have lost my way in the woods that day.”

Raphael looked livid, and she could imagine Puck clapping.

She pushed a pawn forward. “Do you know of any fey by that description?”

“It is unfortunate that I do not,” he deadpanned.

The glint had long been lost to the fire of his burning stare.

“I believe it’s your move, Raphael.”

The cambion worked his jaw, and his tongue ran across his top teeth, emitting a slight sucking sound.

He was determining his move, but it was not a move involving lanceboard.

Tav dropped her innocence along with her tone.

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

His tone dropped to match hers. “And if I was, Little Mouse?”

Humored, she huffed a breath and smiled.

“Why did you have me come?”

Raphael glanced at the board and aggressively (recklessly) took her pawn with his priest. “I wished to become your patron.”

Oh…

An exciting prospect that she’d thought about but never considered as being a possibility...

His interest in her… did it mirror her interest in him?

“I’ll tell you what,” Tav snatched his priest with her rook. “If you win this match, I’ll see what I can do about breaking my pact with Puck, and I’ll happily sign a new pact with you.”

Disdain drained the color from his face.

“Puck,” he sneered, and it was then that he knew he’d been played. “Like attracts like! I should not be surprised that one chaotic wretch of a creature was drawn to another!”

“On the contrary, surely you also believe that opposites attract?” Tav smiled with a tilt of her head. “Or have you changed your mind about wanting me, a ‘chaotic wretch’, to be your warlock?”

Raphael’s silence was confirmation that he had not changed his mind (though it disagreed with his contemptuous stare and scrunched nose).

A moment passed.

“And if you win, my dear?”

“I want a written and signed letter from you stating that you lost our lanceboard game and that you were jealous of Puck.”

The huff that left him was not the humored kind.

“I agree to the terms of this match, and you are to forfeit should I get the slightest whiff of any tricks.”

“Good thing my sleight of hand work doesn’t smell,” Tav said before dramatically cracking her knuckles.

 Raphael’s eyes narrowed. “No cheating of any kind, you fey-touched miscreant.”

Tav’s bright laugh filled the room, seemingly disarming her fiend of an opponent.

Her poor skills in strategy were likely to lose the match for her, but Tav was not bothered by the potential loss.

She’d won the more important game.

[unreadpoppy]

down by the river - chapter 1

Raphael x Warlock!Tav

A/N: Imma be honest that I don't know where I'm going with this. Had the idea for a long time and then got inspired by a reddit post and a few things said in a server. Also, there will probably be a second chapter.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

While Tav was taking her precious time looting the corpses of their fallen foes, Astarion gathered the others around. 

“What a strange leader we have, don’t you think?” 

“What do you mean?” Shadowheart asked. 

“I mean, she barely speaks to anyone about anything, when we try to ask her about her life, she shuts off. I mean, I have my doubts that ‘Tav’ is even her real name!” Astarion said. “Besides, she has that…weird… writing on her collarbone that looks like a burn scar that no one can figure out what it means.”

The cleric looked at Tav, who was far away and with her back turned towards them. “Well, we all have our secrets. I know I have mine.” Then, she addressed Astarion. “However, I will say, I don’t even know what her…deal is.” 

“Deal?” The vampire asked. 

“You know. You’re a rogue, I’m a cleric, Wyll’s a warlock, but Tav…” 

At that moment, Wyll put his head in between the two of them. “I think it’s best if you leave the gossip for later.” He motioned forwards with his chin. “Tav’s coming.” 

They tried not to look suspicious, each looking in another direction. Tav eyed them with a raised brow. 

“Ah Tav, finally done turning every stone you could find?” Astarion asked. She merely grumbled and turned towards Wyll.

“We will go find that devil you need to kill.” Tav said, and began walking away. The three eyed each other and followed along.   

Later that night, now with Karlach in tow, the group was visited by Mizora, who punished her warlock for not keeping his part of the deal. Before the she-devil left, she turned towards the leader.

“Oh and dear Tav, I would keep both of my eyes very open.” She smirked. “Your master is looking for you.” Engulfed in flames, the cambion left the party alone and filled with questions. 

There was silence all around, only the crinkling of the fire being heard, as everyone turned to look at Tav, who had anger written across her face. 

Finally, Karlach spoke. “What…the…fuck.”  

“So. Do you have anything you’d like to tell us, Tav?” Astarion asked, having daggers shot in his direction.

“No.” Tav replied dryly. She sighed. “I’ll go to sleep now. I’d recommend everyone do the same.” She turned her back on the group, gathered her things and laid on her bedroll. The others shared confused and worried looks, but most shrugged and moved on.

 Tav closed her eyes, almost immediately falling into a dream. In it, she saw herself, alongside her companions. It was night and they were near a river, the moon shining above them. There was a figure, waist-deep inside the body of water, surrounded by weird, hook like shapes that turned into fish. 

Tav waved a hand, setting the water ablaze. She entered the river and walked towards the person. After the flames had died down, Tav looked around and then glanced at a familiar face she knew all too well. 

The face of the devil who had saved her many years ago. Whom had burned his name onto her skin. He looked at her and smirked. 

Tav woke up, the mark on her collarbone burning. She breathed rapidly, placing a hand where it hurt and whispered 

“Raphael.” 

[red-dead-sakharine]

To the anon with the multiple warlock 🔴 asks:

I like this very much. I'll write this. Hang in there! Also, full devil patron with pre-crown Raphael as mocked underdog is delicious! 🤌 This will be my project for the weekend!

I will blatantly indulge myself with this prompt, because my Tav has a duke patron, so this is right up my alley

And to the jelly!Raphael anon:

You'll be fed here, too 😏

[mslanna]

I see quite a few 'Raphael is Tav's warlock patron' scenarios, but what if Raphael discovered that the reason Tav turned down his deals was because Haarlep already had a claim to Tav's soul as the adventurer's warlock patron (can't bargain with something that is already spoken for - even as/for collateral)? For extra comedy, maybe Haarlep just kinda... forgot about their warlock until Raphael brings up the issue he is have and the incubus is all like, "Sooooo... About the matter of 'your' little mouse's soul..." (whether or not this is said nervously, teasingly, arrogantly, etc. is entirely up to you, of course).

Sorry for taking this long. 🥺

Mangled as per usual. Can't seem to put anybody close to Haarlep (outside of Be My Guest) without unglody amount of sex happening. So, 2% prompt fail, 98% smut. 😩 AFAB Tav with top surgery.

A Far Crueller Master (also on AO3)

"Master!" Tav bounces into the large red bedroom, victory in their wake. "I have met him and he is intrigued."

They come to a stop at a respectful distance. Not because decency or decorum demand it but because it is such a charming game. Their patron lounges on the enormous bed, clad scantily as ever. Their red skin seeps into the silken sheets leaving the impression that their harness hovers in places.

"Is he now?" Haarlep beckons their warlock closer. "Give me the details. All of them."

Tav approaches as their patron's voice drops into the suggestive. This is the best part. Well, apart from getting to wreak havoc in the mortal plane. "Have you not felt my visit to this house?" They climb onto the bed and crawl towards the incubus slowly. "Is my presence no longer imprinted on you?"

"Oh, be careful, little mouse." A red hand closes around Tav's face and pulls quickly. The warlock tumbles, now prone before their master that regards them with leery curiosity. "Or are you so keen to feel the pains of my possession again?"

"I am keen on all you have to give, master." Tav grins, insides quivering with anticipation. They know Haarlep appreciates their sight, chin pressed into the sheets, ass in the air as invitation. "How do you want to proceed."

Haarlep licks their lips, piercing Tav's skin with the claw of their index finger. "Give me your report. I will act as your information – or lack thereof – warrants."

Tav nods eagerly. "We were in a druids' grove, looking for help with the tadpole problem. There was none to be found but hints of hope where to attain it. When we left, he appeared to us on the path – Raphael himself in human guise."

The fingers clasping Tav's face tightened, claws digging into the soft flesh and the warlock hastens to expand.

"He wore his clothes as you described: the blue doublet overgrown with golden trim, down to the red sleeves and gold patterns on them. No devil's belt and no bells on the boots. Only plain pants with decorative seams and clasps. The hair slicked back smoothly and accompanied by the smell of cherries."

"Good little mouse." Haarlep pulls them a little closer and runs their free hand through Tav's hair. "What of his words?"

"He rhymed of course, a lullaby. I did not care for it. But as you claimed his voice is smooth a trap to lure you."

"And my voice?" Haarlep purrs.

"Trumpets. Divine doom, master." Tav smiles. "Heralds of sublime power and prowess."

"Such sweet words." The incubus pulls their pet in and closes their mouth with a kiss. Tav melts against the red chest, sucking up the spittle the incubus presses into their mouth. Arousal seeps into their body, infusing the world with a sharp twang of need.

When Haarlep lets their mouth free again, Tav's lips are slightly numb. The warlock licks them eagerly, sucking in the last droplets of the intoxicating saliva. Then they take up the thread of their account.

The incubus punctuates it with encouraging caresses and the occasional command to take of an item of clothing. Tav shivers in the hot air of the boudoir as each act of submission sends anticipation through their body. They finish their retelling naked on full display, kneeling with their legs wide.

The tip of Haarlep's tail traced patterns over their skin that makes their words tumble and stumble. But Tav holds the gaze of their Master, awaiting the next step in their dance with feigned patience.

"And what do you make of this, little mouse?"

Tav can't answer. The incubus's tail wrapped around their neck and as soon as they open their mouth for an answer, it slips in deep. Tav sucks instinctively. The prehensile body-part tangles with their tongue and makes answering impossible.

"Nothing, as per usual," Haarlep tuts. "What am I even keeping a useless warlock like you for?" The tail dived down the warlock's throat past a long destroyed gag reflex. Finally, the incubus and Tav draws in a desperate breath of air. The relief is short lived.

"Tell me," Haarlep breathes down Tav's throat, "what do I even keep you for?"

"Entertainment," Tav gasps just before their mouth is closed by the fiery lips of their Master. Haarlep fills them up with aphrodisiac saliva while their hands keep their bodies apart. Tav moans, greedy for more and skin contact they are denied. Instead the tail, done with teasing suffocations slips down between their legs. As before, it thrusts in quickly. Tav arcs into their patron, mouth dripping moans.

Haarlep send a last salve of saliva down Tav's throat. "Entertain me then," they murmur into the warlock's ear before pushing them back onto the bed. Dazed with desire, Tav misses their chance to catch their fall. A groan escapes their mouth as they arc backwards, stomach and hips bend high over the feet beneath.

"Come for me," Haarlep leers over the strained warlock. The tip of their tail buries deep, spreading slick want between the wide open legs. "But you know the rules. No hands. Use you right words."

Tav throws their head back and hip up into the teasing penetration. The tip of the tail is slim and smooth, gliding through their body with ease and not enough friction by far. Tav bucks and pleads with their Master for specific twists and turns of their tail.

Haarlep adheres, enjoying the slow unravelling of their warlock. Sweat glistens on their skin and the body writhes in empty-minded pursuit of pleasure. They have become quite good at this. Asking directly and without shame to be undone. Still, it is more fun to pull them back from the precipice.

Frustrated moans and desperate pleas fill the boudoir. Haarlep taunts their warlock back from another almost release. "How bad you are at obeying me, little mouse. Can you not even come for me?"

Overstimulated tears pool in the Tav's eyes and draw exquisite lines down the sides of their face. One day, Haarlep will break them. Tease that fragile mortal coil into desires so deep it falls apart. But not today.

"It's alright." They pull their tail out cherishing the frustrated wail it draws from Tav's lips. "Let's try something else. Maybe double the pleasure will do it."

Haarlep morphs into their warlocks from. They pull a strap-on from the air that sports a generous cock pointing backwards as well. "Be a good little mouse and put that on and in."

Tav doesn't hesitate. They moan when the large dildo widens their cunt, rippling ridges caressing their insides relentlessly. At the deepest point, the small knots trailing up the inside of the harness press down over Tav's clit. Haarlep kneels, presenting Tav with their own slick desire. They thrust in unthinking, wailing with the double assault on their sex.

"Good mouse," Haarlep coos. "Hands on my hips and don't stop until I come."

Tav grinds down deep, moaning at the cruel order. The incubus is made for sex. They can draw it out for hours while Tav breaks themself over their body again and again. Both shafts are curved perfectly for Tav's body. Ridges and bumps widen the eager cunt and soft protrusions are set to caress their clit only if they go deep enough.

So they thrust down deep, demanding their own undoing and creating it with quivering hips. Spikes of lust spring from their nub and the one shadowed over their being with each time they run themself through until the protrusions under the strap-on and inside it clasp at their sex. Ans each high is suffused with smears of pain coming from their hole stretched too wide, filled to deep.

But it is part of the game. The addictive spiral of sheer lust. Tav floats over any other physical need, beyond the reach of reason and necessity. All that exists is pleasure and the pursuit thereof. Tav fucks themselves with abandon, chasing one high after another. Their master won't relent until they are a quivering mess. At which point – Tav sinks deeply into themself.

So they pursue. Even when their body starts to give out, when each movement is exhausted pain threatening to overpower their still present desire. Tav's muscles strive and shake with exhaustion. Their cunt is wet and sore, raw with double friction. Each climax takes longer to achieve, more work and breathless rutting. But the incubus magic hooked its claws deep into their system and they only want more. Soon.

But Haarlep doesn't call them off. Wringing the last ounce of strength from their muscles, Tav still collapses over the incubus, tongue lolling out of their mouth, eyes closed in defeat.

The incubus extracts themself with a derisive snort. Turning around, they look at the crumpled mess of warlock on their bed. "Such a beautiful mess." Haarlep holds Tav's head up by their hair. Their face is flushed, rivulets of sweat marked trails over the glowing skin. "Do you think you deserve a little treat? Were you a good little mouse?"

Tav shakes their lowered head. "I did not obey your order, master. I am too weak to please you. I deserver nothing. Do as you please."

"Oh, I certainly will." The incubus pulls back Tav's head with a swift motion, exposing their throat. Their body shifts, shimmers as it changes. Haarlep parades a gallery of possible shapes before their warlock. Each with its own delectable advantages.

The Orthon was delicious for Tav to work themself over the huge cock, working hard to lower themself as Haarlep watched their tight hole struggle to take it all in. A gelugon had sharp claws to cut patterns of ownership into Tav's skin while they moved and moaned in their thrall. But not today. The little runt deserved to be stuffed until they overflowed.

The incubus chooses the form of a devil, dark blue skin and glorious horns, something close to who they once were and a form for special occasions. Tav is thrown back carelessly, legs pulled out under their ass. They leak into the red sheets, leaving stains dark as dried blood.

Haarlep bends down, sucking up the sweet tang of Tav's cunt. Their saliva forces excitement back into every fibre of their little pet. They enjoy the hopeless groans falling from their lips. Haarlep drives their tongue deep into the abused hole, adding a coat of inescapable want to the slick walls.

They spread the warlock's legs wide enough to elicit soft sounds of pain. Then they thrust in. Tav wails, fingers digging into the sheets as their hips raise in pleasure and pain. Haarlep drinks in their desolate state. Such a perfect ruination. They raise a soft leg against their body and move slow. For now content watching their cock slip into the tight opening and Tav squirming to take in all of it.

They will. It is always a struggle, but in the end, Tav's body always yields. Haarlep muffles the sounds of desperation by slipping their tail down Tav's throat. The warlock obediently sucks it down, tongue and teeth caressing it.

Enticed by that view, Haarlep pursues their own pleasure. They lean down and work their angled cock into the mortal hard and fast. It is time to take. Tav bucks under them unashamed to cry and ask for more at the same time. Haarlep buries their face at their throat. Their teeth dig deep into the flesh, drawing blood as they come.

Haarlep rides out his climax ruthlessly, cum seeping out with each thrust and coating Tav's thighs. They pull out and run a hand up between the wet legs, collecting cum and smear it over Tav's face. Tav tries to lick it of their hand, good little pet they are. With a smile, Haarlep throttles them and turns them over.

Haarlep spreads the wet legs wide again. They counted each orgasm their little pet reached and now they will get them all back. Falling over the small form before them, Haarlep slips their cock back in, cupping Tav's groan with a hand. Hungry fingers slip into the warlock's mouth, pressing down in snyc with the cock.

"Am I not entertained?" Haarlep murmurs into their pet's ear before leaning down deeper and joining their tongue with their fingers. Tav's world drowns in excruciating lust.

Tav winds down from ecstasy so strong it whites out everything. Their body shivers, shakes and hurts but it is a small price for divine rapture. Their patron lounges on the bed at their side, reading, looking no worse for the wear, looking as if they never participated in this soul wrecking endeavour.

"Now, get yourself cleaned up and whole, little mouse." Haarlep licks their lips, tasting the remnants of depraved satisfaction. They give their warlock a little shove.

The human bumbles off the bed, legs unable to hold them. It's a delicious sight and Haarlep watches with one hand between their legs as the human slowly crawls towards the pool Their ass wriggles precariously, cum and blood splattered over their skin.

The way to the restoration pool drags. Tav pulls themself forwards with painfully weak arms. Sweat and cum dries on their skin and the crust nip at them when they move. But an order is an order. They slink around the pillar and make a snail-line for the pool.

Once Tav reaches the edge, they don't bother with climbing in. They keep going, falling face-first into the water's embrace and trusting that it's healing power will strengthen them enough to surface in time.

For a held breath, Tav hangs in the warm water. Healing prickles over their body, drawing the pain from the pleasure and for short time, the world is suspended in warm bliss. Their tired muscles relax, sore skin mends, even their raw insides calm back into comfort.

Tav floats to the surface. They take a deep breath and throw their head back in relief. Then they move to the fountains and lean against the wall of the pool under downpour of water, resting their arms over the tiled edge. The world drowns in a torrent of healing and welcome massage.

Tav blinks when a familiar figure approaches from the wrong side of the pool. The red devil is also too overdressed to be their patron. Tav blinks water from their eyes and dips a little lower into the water.

But it is too late. The approaching devil has noticed them and by the way he speeds up his pace is not amused with the intrusion. Tav considers moving to the middle of the pool, out of reach, but the clear water makes them feel vulnerable.

"You." Raphael hisses. His eyes are narrowed, lips drawn into a thin line.

Tav raises a hand and waves sheepishly.

The devil looks from them around the room, trying to piece their presence together.

Unexpected help comes from Haarlep who pounces on the chance to fan the flames. "Trouble, my dear?" Their voice carries through the boudoir.

"No!" Tav calls back.

"Yes," Raphael answers at the same time.

Their eyes meet and Tav adds a sheepish grin.

"What are you doing with my incubus?" the devil demands.

"What I am doing?" Tav counters. "Ask my patron what they are doing to me." Tav puts a hand before their impudent mouth. Whatever would an incubus do to a human? They lick their lips nervously.

"Your patron." Raphael's voice is flat.

"Well, you knew I am a warlock." Tav crosses their arms, and it is definitely from annoyance and not the feeling of utter exposure under the devil's glare.

"And that patron is me." Haarlep saunters towards them. "What a fun little coincidence."

"You have never mentioned a warlock," Raphael says.

"Just because you spill all your secrets under passion, doesn't mean I have to." The incubus, puts a teasing finger under their master's chin. "But don't be cross. You know now. And what fun we can have if we put our anger behind us now. Don't you agree?" They lick their lips suggestively.

For a moment, Tav does not exists in the world of the two devils bound to each other by a higher power. The warlock slides out of the pool and tries to sneak around the two devils locked in a combat of will that shows only in their eyes.

Tav almost makes it. Their patron's hand snaps to the side, gripping their arm painfully when they are almost past the incubus. "Not so fast little mouse. It seems the master of the house is not satisfied with how this played out."

"Something that is easily amended, don't you think?" Tav is pushed in front of Haarlep, not like a shield, more like an offering. "After all, sharing is caring."

[disarmonia]

Wyll Ravengard ❤️‍🔥 Painted this completely unplanned and unexpected portrait last night. I guess the heavy rain traditionally brought me inspiration after all, even though it's now really hard to not read all sound of thunder as explosions. Unfortunately russian attacks on our homes happen more often than thunderstorms. Wonder if this will ever go back to normal. Either way, happy with our handsome boy, excited to do more BG3 art when I have more time between commissions and charity work. If you like my art, consider tipping! MY TIP JARS HERE ❤️‍🩹

[little-red-fool]

Astarion you’re not the most dangerous thing in this two-man party.

Edit: Please don’t ship them Pascal is aroace and they hate each other.

Part 2 (CW: body horror)

[chaoticcomposition]

like a house on fire 🔥

[queenoftheantz]

hi yes hello a friend gave my baldurs gate 3 for my birthday and is now painstakingly teaching me how to use the controls

Meet my little cosmic horror protagonist Luvtröja!! They are just a little guy!! They like sitting in chairs :]

[mo-mo-ru-art]

There are sacrifices she is willing to make

[voidchimaera]

He's a very messy eater 😌

[mooreaux]

Huevember day 21 with my Tav, Deirdre Fawn! She’s a deep gnome, archfey warlock bard 🥹✨

[atrueneutral]

Is Puck just gonna keep getting more naked in every panel he appears in? 🤣 You know, you just KNOW he's doing it to tick off Raphael.

The conclusion!

[Part I] [Part II] [The Prompt]

[unreadpoppy]

down by the river - chapter 2

Raphael x Warlock! Tav

A/N: I have little to no clue where I'm going with this. Buckle up!

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

Tav looked around, her companions all asleep. She sighed and stood up, walking away from camp. Funnily enough, near where they had slept for the night, was a river, though no person was in it. 

She picked up some pebbles and threw them in the river, watching them jump before falling into the water. Tav tried to focus on the now, but her mind kept wandering back to her past. She remembered a particular day. 

‘Please, I’ll do anything, anything you want, if it means I’ll be free!’ She was on her knees, bowing before a pair of boots. She was much younger than, and covered in blood, her body shaking. ‘Please, save me.’ 

The young woman cried, and felt a hand underneath her chin, a single finger raising her head, and making her look at the warm brown eyes of her savior. 

Tav was interrupted by the sound of a twig breaking behind her. She turned her head to see who had arrived. 

“Who is Raphael?” Shadowheart asked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tav shrugged, throwing another pebble. 

The cleric raised an eyebrow. “I heard you murmuring that name. Is that what your mark means?” 

Tav didn’t reply, brows furrowed. Shadowheart sighed. “Keep your secrets, then. We all seem to have them.” 

She began to walk away when Tav, still looking forward, shouted “I’m a warlock, by the way.” 

The half-elf stopped to look at her, and at the same time, she finally addressed her companion. Shadowheart raised a brow. “I heard your conversation earlier. You guys are not as sneaky as you think you are.” 

Shadowheart nodded and walked back to her bedroll. A few minutes later, Tav went back to hers. 

…

In the morning, Tav is the second to wake up, losing only to Astarion. She ate her breakfast, an apple, frowning in silence, while the elf looked at her. 

A moment passed. Then

“Don’t even think about asking me stuff.” She said, out of nowhere. 

“Excuse me?” He asked, baffled by the accusation. 

“I see the way you’re looking.” Tav took another bite of the fruit. “Don’t even try.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “I was not thinking of bothering you with questions.”

“Really? Then you better not be thinking of biting me.” 

 I can keep my hunger in check, thank you very much.” He took a breath and continued. “You know, if you were a little bit more open, maybe people wouldn’t question you so much.“

Her lips thinned and she rolled her eyes. “And you are such an open book, Astarion.”

He huffed. “Well, at least everyone knows I’m a vampire. And that Wyll is indepted to a devil. And that Gale eats magic items.” Astarion looked at her, squinting his eyes. “You’re the only one here who’s shut off.” Before Tav could try to defend herself, he stood up, passing his hands on his legs, pretending to clean non existent dirt. “But suit yourself. I was trying to be nice. You ought to do the same.” 

Tav finished eating, spitting the seeds away. After the rest of the group woke up and started to get ready, Karlach approached her. 

“You know, I could tell you what that means.” She pointed towards Tav’s collarbone. “Since it’s in infernal.” 

Tav grumbled. “I know what it means.” She began to walk away but turned around. Maybe she could try to be nice. “Thank you, anyways.” Karlach gave a small smile and nodded. 

Then, as they were walking, Wyll, now adorned with a new set of horns, said “So, I’ve been told you and I have something in common.” 

At that, Tav looked at Shadowheart, who immediately looked away. “Word travels fast here, it seems.” 

Wyll chuckled. “They do, indeed. But, if you’re ever in need of help with some contracts, I’m happy to lend a hand.” 

She raised a brow and nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind…Even if I don’t think I’ll need it.” 

Wyll gave her a questioning look. “And why is that?”

Tav gave him a raised brow.  “I’m on better terms with my patron then you are.” 

“Oh, really?” 

Before Tav could reply, she heard the sound of someone approaching them followed by a voice she recognized. Although she had her back to him, she heard his little speech. 

“My, my, what manner of place is this? A path to redemption, or a road to damnation? Hard to say, for your journey is just beginning.” 

Tav turned around and faced him. Quietly, she said to herself “Speaking of the devil”.

He wore his human guise, with those brown eyes and hair, and wearing a blue doublet. To the unpracticed eye, nobody would have noticed the small features of surprise that appeared on his face when seeing Tav, but she knew him well. 

“What would suit the occasion? The words to a lullaby, perhaps?” Tav took a deep breath. 

‘Here we go with the theatrics.’ She thought. 

“The mouse smiled brightly: It outfoxed the cat!” He exclaimed. The next part of the lullaby Tav was familiar with. The man looked down as he finished. “Then down came the claw, and that, love, was that.” At the love part, he specifically kept eye contact with Tav. 

“They do know how to write them in Cormyr, don’t they, Tav?” She could feel the eyes of everyone else in the party turning to look at her. 

“It seems you haven’t talked about me yet, seeing the surprised look on your companions.” He addressed Tav and then the others, bowing his head slightly and opening his arms. “Well met, I am Raphael. Very much at your service.” 

Tav looked at him, squinting her eyes and not saying anything. Raphael shook his head. “Tsk tsk. This is no way to treat your patron, Tav. It must be the surroundings. Rather bleak and lonesome. One feels so…exposed.” He gestured to her, the others and then to the world around them. “This quaint little scene is decidedly too middle of nowhere for my taste.”

With a snap of his fingers, they were all sent to Raphael’s domain. 

[red-dead-sakharine]

Sundered by the Styx

underdog!Raphael, RaphaelPOV, Raphael x m!OC, conflicted!cambion, hurt/comfort, warlock!OC, tiefling!OC, whump, pining, relationship with obstacles Spawned from anon 🔴 prompt. I hope anon forgives me for naming Tav. The prompt was so close to my own character, I decided to indulge myself.

Part 1 | Part 2 (soon)

"Nice decor." An interesting response. Not phased by being whisked away to some unknown place. And either brazen or of good taste. Which one of the two, Raphael had yet to figure out.

"The House of Hope, where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed - lavishly. Go on. Partake. Enjoy your supper. After all, it might just be your last."

The tiefling who seemed to be the leader of the group of mortals raised a brow, then turned and browsed the table. Eventually he picked up a particularly good looking piece of cake and began eating. A sweet-tooth. Raphael was intrigued by the reaction. "Not easily rattled, I see. Good. Makes the next part that much more straightforward." And with that, he dropped the human guise and showed off his true from. Spreading his wings and preening before his audience. The mortals looked shocked. "Fuck. A cambion." the other tiefling, Karlach, cursed. "What's better than a devil you don't know? A devil you do." Raphael cited his practiced line with a satisfied grin. The leader of the group kept chewing on his cake, only halting for a short moment when Raphael revealed himself, then returned to munching. Raphael had to admit, the equanimity of this one intrigued him. Provided it wasn't utter stupidity that made the mortal simply dull and callous. He would find out sooner or later. He continued his introductory speech, enjoying the mortals' reactions to it. Ah, he loved the underlying panic in their expressions.

When he was done with his speech, he waited for their reaction. The group looked to their leader, who swallowed the last bite of cake and cleaned his hands with one of the napkins from the table. Manners, Raphael observed approvingly. "Great introduction," the tiefling said honestly, "I liked the 'devil you don't know' part. Very clever." Raphael raised a brow, trying not to look too taken aback by the reaction. "Alas, I'm afraid I won't be making any deals anytime soon." He put the napkin back neatly on the table and offered a slight bow, "Varvain 's the name, by the way." The name rang familiar to Raphael, but he couldn't quite place it. Some of the tadpoled mortals had been harder to identify than others. Karlach and Wyll had been easy to figure out, due to Raphael's decent rapport with Zariel.

But this one - this Varvain - he had trouble to place. He could sense the warlock pact, but he didn't know who or what he was pacted with. Another fiend would explain the unflappable attitude upon seeing a devil. It would also be highly inconvenient for Raphael.

"By all means, take your time," he told the mortals, "Shop around..." He launched into another dramatic speech, enjoying himself greatly, as he put on the theatrics. Upon finishing, he sent the mortals back to where he had plucked them from.

Raphael rubbed his chin in contemplation for a moment, before snapping his fingers to summon Korrilla. "Watch those mortals, and eavesdrop on their leader. I need to know who is lending him their powers." The dwarf nodded, "Will do, boss." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand; sending her back to the mortal realm.

The leader of the group lingered on his mind. "ell mannered, not easily rattled, and admittedly not unpleasant to look at. Raphael's eyes fell to the napkin left neatly on the table, and narrowed his eyes in contemplation. The tiefling didn't look highborn, but he certainly knew decorum. An intriguing puzzle. A puzzle, Raphael set out to solve.

He mobilized some of his resources within Baator to discreetly keep an ear out for any mentions of a Varvain. It didn't take long until one of the cambions sworn to him returned with news. "I might have found this Varvain's patron, master." she said, as she approached Raphael, who was browsing books in the archives. "Well, don't let me wait." He responded drily, turning his attention to the other fiend. "I figured someone in the Fetters in Dis might know him. And they did. He actually has a bit of a reputation there." the cambion reported, "Apparently he's the favorite pet of a pit fiend called Frith."

Raphael's expression turned into an annoyed frown, "Frith..." He felt the need to punch something. Or someone. He knew the name. One of Dispater's lap dogs. "Anything else?" he asked, trying his damnedest to stay composed. The cambion shook her head, "No, master. That's all I could find out without my questioning becoming obvious." Raphael nodded, "Good work," and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. He mulled the information over in his head for a while. This might be an obstacle for his plans, depending on the details of the contract between Frith and Varvain that gave the mortal his power.

When he finally turned to leave the archive, he saw the Archivist giving him a look Raphael didn't appreciate. Upon seeing the devil glaring at him, the archivist swiftly busied himself with a ledger.

The cambion's nostrils flared in annoyance, but breaking spines would have to wait. He had a problem to solve.

Raphael made his way to Dis. He didn't particularly like the place; mostly because every time he came here, the streets had changed, making navigation difficult. It ground against his sense of order. At least coming here was easy enough. Due to the fetters being accessible to mortals, Raphael could just slip in without any trouble.

The fetters' market was a curious sight. Mortals and devils, both peddling their wares to each other. Many a deal struck, many a soul claimed. Though he did not like the city, Raphael had to admire the industrious efficiency of the procurement of souls in this place.

He focused back on his task - it wasn't hard to find Frith's haunt, the "bath house", as he called it. Truly it was more of a brothel, but appearances mattered in some way, when trying to trap mortals. It was a gaudy place he's been to before. There was a pool in the middle of it, so technically calling it a 'bath' was valid, even if most of the mortals who found themselves lured here, ended up enjoying either the music, or other physical pleasures outside the water. In a way, the place reminded him of Sharess' Caress, but with very different clientele. In the far back, on a dais lording over the place stood, what could only be described as a throne, with a large bed not far behind it. Raphael wrinkled his nose but was glad, that Frith wasn't heaving any entertainment right now. The pit fiend sat on his "throne", wearing his more palatable disguise of a handsome devil - tiefling, even - with short horns, slicked back hair, and a gaudy beard that reminded Raphael of both, his father and Dispater.

As he walked along the outside of the pool, Raphael took stock of the other beings present. Most were mortals, either guests who will probably never be able to leave again, or Frith's enslaved mortals who offered the entertainment. Some played music, some made food, some lulled the guests into letting their guard down by massaging them, and some... well. But there were also devils here. A succubus or two, Raphael noticed. Made sense, given the purpose of this place. But also some other devils who were here to be entertained. Probably allies of Frith's enjoying some sort of treat, Raphael assumed.

He was pulled from his thoughts, as he closed in on Frith's "throne". "You, cambion, you're not one of mine. I hope you have a good reason to be here." Frith's smooth but powerful voice boomed at him. Cambion. Raphael ground his teeth. Not only did the pit fiend not recognize him, he was also degraded to just a cambion. "I would have a word with you," he replied, doing his best to not let his frustration show. "I don't waste my time with half-breeds not sworn to me. So unless you're here to pledge your undying allegiance - shoo." Frith waved his hand dismissively.

Raphael clenched his fists in anger. Half-breed? Half-breed!? He took a deep breath, "I am Raphael. You might have--" "Oh, one of Mephistopheles' brood. I've heard of you." Frith interrupted him with a chuckle, "Bit of a rebel from what I hear. Not in your father's best graces, hm?" Raphael wanted nothing more, than to wipe that smirk off the fiend's face. But he knew he was no match for him - yet. This would all change, once he had the Crown of Karsus. Only a matter of time...

He took a frustrated breath, "Yes. My father and I don't exactly see eye to eye. But I'm not here to speak about him." Frith kept smirking condescendingly at the cambion before him, "Well, I am intrigued what would bring you here, half-breed, So I'll humor you." he beckoned Raphael to come closer, which he did. "Why do you visit me in my humble abode?" Raphael's jaw clenched, "I think I have stumbled upon one of your wayward warlocks." he tried to sound casual, "And I got curious what kind of relationship you have with them. I've seen different kinds of patronages during my days. I'm always interested to..." he gestured vaguely, "...learn, from others and their experiences."

Frith's superior smirk slowly vanished, "And which warlock would that be, pray tell? Do you have a name?" Raphael did his best to sound conversational, "He did introduce himself as Varvain." The moment he said the name, he saw something shift in Frith's expression. Though he couldn't quite tell what it was. "Varvain - my pet. He's having an unplanned vacation in the mortal realm." Frith replied and narrowed his eyes, "How did you run into him?" Raphael shrugged, "Oh, I was looking for souls, you know. Lots of death going on at the Sword Coast these days." He smirked a little. Frith regarded the cambion for a bit, "Well, you won't have Varvain's soul. It is mine." he put a lot of emphasis on that last word, adding a threatening undertone that was hard to miss. Raphael gave a little sideways nod, "Far be it from me to get between you and your pet. But pray tell, might I have a look at his contract, by any chance?" This was far from smooth, but there was no way around asking about the contract sooner or later, "Merely to serve as inspiration for my own, you understand. There's a little tiefling girl I'm interested in... mentoring."

Frith was quiet for a moment, as he looked Raphael up and down. Then he stood up, smiling casually - but something wasn't right, Raphael could tell. "You want to look at Varvain's contract?" He echoed the request, as he stepped down from the dais and approached Raphael. The cambion felt like he should be retreating, but he stood his ground. An error. Frith's hand shot up, grabbing Raphael by the throat and pulling him close to his face, "Varvain is mine, and whatever you think to want or get from him, you best swiftly forget about it, you half-mortal filth." Frith growled. Raphael grabbed the pit fiend's arm, tried to wrest himself free, but to no avail. "I am no mortal!" he croaked angrily, defiantly, but only got a laugh in response. "Well, you're certainly no devil either." Frith hissed and tightened his grip. The cambion tried to respond but all that came out of his strangled throat was a strained gurgle. "Mephistopheles would probably thank me for getting rid of you, but you are his problem, mortal spawn. Get out of my domain. Now." He threw Raphael to the ground like a ragdoll, "And if you dare to even so much as sniff on Varvain's soul, I will throw you into the pit of flame myself!"

Raphael could see the pit fiend's eyes burn with rage, and he had no doubt he was one spark away from dropping his disguise. Coughing, Raphael staggered to his feet. He glared angrily at the other devil, but he knew if it came to open violence, he would draw the short end of the stick. The entire bath house had become silent. The music had stopped and nobody dared to speak or move. Raphael glared at Frith, but he knew when to make a tactical retreat. He turned and stomped out of the building, stewing in his anger and frustration. He swore to himself, once he had the Crown of Karsus, he would return and tear Frith limb from limb. But for now he would have to bide his time.

He returned to the House of Hope to nurse his bruised ego.

(To be continued...)

[rielzero]

:( He wanted cuddles.

[disarmonia]

Thought now is a good time to share my first portrait of my very own Tav - Myth'aran - a tiefling warlock of course. Hope my bebe can get at least some of the attention the NPCs are getting. Also ples consider following my new page (this one), I'm sorta new here.🤭 k thanx mwah mwah