sorenvii

[sorenvii]

Raphael x (GN) Tav

I simply have an obsession with ballrooms and royalty. Here is a blurb of a toxic love between Raphael and Tav.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

Repeated steps, gliding feet among marble tile. Heels in tune with a symphony of noise. A learned dance being strung throughout the ballroom.

Winding bodies, twisting, turning, even dizzying if not practiced. However the only thing in your mind is the repeated steps, for messing one up could be humiliating.

Devils aren’t known for mercy after all.

Your hand grasped yet another deep red one, calloused and strong. Perhaps one of a fighter, however you’d not know as it was already being exchanged for another.

A waltz, a three beat movement in which there is a follower and a leader. Together in a group it can even look angelic.

Gowns and tailcoats whisk the floor you waltz upon, swaying in slight tandem of the piano. Your own following in suit with the others.

To dance with a devil is to bargain, deal, find a midway. But in the room of heinous, your sole purpose is to perform. To act, whisk, and look as if simply being there would have others blush for even being in your presence. For to be invited in Raphael’s ballroom is a dream, to dance with the Hero of Baulder’s Gate is a fantasy.

All movements end in a hush, in the same line as the violins. Rather than clicking heels, the sounds thread to hushed whispers. Winding through the gloomy room, like a devils tail calculating the tightness of its choke.

The nights just began. Others have bargains and deals to make, even if you waltz a different dance.

The world feels in a stir, the alcohol coursing through every vein in your body. You have to count yourself back into a still state of mind.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

You realize this won’t get you anywhere, you can’t even recall how long this party has been in conversation. From what you can recall of your scrambled mind is attendees asking for a dance, the smell of alcohol, bargains that you’d never participate in, and Raphael’s gaze on you.

Sitting in a dim corner didn’t brighten your mood or cure the ache in your heels. Eyes wandered, including yours. However didn’t stray much from the Cambion in black. His horns protruding high and tail proud. He’d currently been in conversation with a tiefling of blue.

You could see the desperation of the tiefling and the confidence of Raphael. No doubt he was using his flowery words and sweet hums to serenade a deal out the other. Just as he had you.

The deal of a True Love’s Caress; A contract between you and the Cambion. To ensure an eye of protection on your companions, for no harm shall be brought to them. Or at least, nullified. However in exchange your mind and body were his. His to waltz with and kiss the ring on your finger. The rings would alert the other of any physical harm being done to the other, or it was just another way of him being able to track you. Seeing as you’d never left the house of hope or his grand balls in god knows how long.

Even so, you couldn’t help the flush he’d bring you. His sultry words and temptations could be fake, lies, and deceits. However they were for you, for you to bask in as he held you in burning arms.

You would find respite in even his hoax. You didn’t know if what he had for you was love or an obsession. Like a trinket to be held on another pedestal in his grand House of Hope. A pretty object to be shown off, with a tag saying “Hero of Baulder’s Gate.”

Even in the home of macabre, your soul found peace with his evil. Every caress on one another’s bodies were loving and sharp. Stolen glances and stares full of both daggers and adoration. Shivers down your spine at each term of endearment murmured into your skin. Every box step was calculated and perfected, hands intertwined with a deathly grip, either one of assurance or dominance.

One, two, three.

One, two, three.

Each step he took towards you were in perfect sync with the beats you’ve engrained in your mind. Absorbed in the trancing way of his walk you didn’t realize the lack of words. Looking up you see Raphael extend a hand towards your own.

Every other attendee had already been gone, as if they were never there to begin with. The air of mist in the room, or maybe your mind clouded all sense of knowing just how long this dreary lighting had been coating your skin for.

Taking his hand you hummed the familiar tune of the days music.

One, you began lifting yourself up, just to knock of one of the wine red roses from its vase.

Two, eyes met and rings caressed. You looked up at him with fake adoration in your eyes.

Three, “let’s go home, Raphael.”

[sorenvii]

Dammon x Cleric (GN) Tav

Imagine a scene where the attacks on Last Night Inn brought harm to all, including Dammon. When bedding that night, Tav pays extra attention to healing him.

-Got this idea just by looking at the blue glows of healing spells in Baulder’s Gate and thinking they’d look pretty along skin-

The wind snapped sharply along the skin of those rushing for shelter within the Inn. The stench of blood already mixing in with the foul smell of the undead.

Everything was set in a panic, Isobel and Shadowheart healing as many as possible within the medical ward- unbeknownst to their own. Jaheira yelled words out to her Harper’s, ordering to defend the area in case more attacks came.

You had found yourself in a daze, rushing past the groans and shouts of orders. Stepping outside into the harsh winds as they festered. You needed to find him soon, there weren’t too many casualties from what you’ve seen, you just needed to be sure. Rounding the corner to the temporary Smithery, your heart dropped at the sight of Dammon clutching a wound bound at his stomach.

His eyes looked up to meet yours, an immediate sense of relief flooded in him as he saw you. “You’re okay.” He’d croaked out, a shaking smile on his face that quickly dissipated with a hiss as he keeled forward. You immediately helped him up, whether holding him up by his shoulders or carrying him in yourself. You had both ended up in a spare room with crumbling wood walls and creaking floorboards. But it was more than enough for now.

You’ve had multiple, countless experiences in helping the wounded, yet even so your hands shook. He’d been breathing harshly, lying down on the dusty bed. His soft eyes gazing into yours with nothing but admiration. His hand went for yours, squeezing it three times before planting a delicate kiss on your wrist. “I’m fine, I promise. I’d only been cut from a piece of wood rushing by.” He spoke plainly and calmly, a go-easy look on his features.

You scoffed and squeezed his hand back before ordering him to remove his clothing with your help. As you helped in lifting his working clothes over his sensitive horns, you murmured, “You’re still injured, I should be more than worried.” You spoke in a quivering voice, betraying your act of confidence.

“What about you then? You’re surely damaged as well. You’ve fought a lot harder than I had that’s for sure.” His brows furrowed as he sat up, not for long though as you immediately pushed him back down softly with a knowing look. “I’ll be fine, I need to make sure you are completely okay right now though.” You gazed into his eyes once more, pleading for him to side with you this once.

He sighed, a worried glance still present on his face but biting his own tongue. Knowing you both were stubborn in making sure the other was fine this wouldn’t progress anywhere. In fact throughout your relationship he’d supply you with armor or weapons he’d spend hours on. Sometimes you’d watch by his side. Simply basking in the comfortable silence you brought one another. For he’d be swooning at the sight of his hero basking in the light of the glory, adorning the armor and weapon.

After throughly cleaning the wound and inspecting the groves of his infernal body for other signs of hurt, you determined he’d been fine. You’d been so focused that you didn’t even realize the adoring stare or the tail wrapped tightly around your thigh, curling in the way of a snake. You’d bandaged his waist in a similar fashion, making sure that you’d check it tomorrow as well.

After breathing a sigh of relief you heard your lovers soft voice. “Everything alright with me then doctor?” He’d chuckled softly at the term he teasingly used for you. Bringing a small blush of embarrassment to your face. “You’ll be okay, as you said. The cut wasn’t anything bad but you’ll need to be extra careful of movement for the next week or so.” You murmured, looking upon his body once more. He took in your words with a nod and replied, “What’s next then? Will we be going to Moonrise and fighting the blasted curse-bringer?” His words held malice, angry at the events that occurred on otherwise a peaceful night. So many were hurt tonight, he’d only wish he were more powerful. Powerful enough to help you in all your adventures come forth. But this would do for now.

“Probably, we can’t risk another attack like this soon. We’ll probably head out within the next two days.” You spoke these words, calculated thoughts pouring in before turning to the tiefling. “Other than you, you’ll be here recovering.” Emphasizing the last word to get your point across while pointing at his wound.

Dammon sighed and tugged your thigh closer to him with his tail slithered around you. “Let me bask in your light once more, before you decide to go save us all again.” He murmured, pulling you down next to him on the bed. You snuggly wrapped your arms around him, finding place in his neck as you felt a small purr rumble in him. His tail coiled around your waist, pulling you flush against him, still careful of his wound. “How lucky am I to have a devoted healer such as you.”

He purred the words into your hair, finding respite in your lips as he had many times previous. Peppered kisses flew between the two of you, upon faces, wrists, hands, and necks.

Each kiss you landed on his fragile skin, embedded with your deities help. Each flutter having an ounce of healing properties within. Your hands were no stranger to this either, as they softly glided over his ridges and curves. Finding placement in his chest, hair, face, and beyond.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. That you weren’t worried what the coming days would bring. Sometimes even the light of the gods on you felt worthless in moment like these. You can only find current peace in knowing he’s here. That he’s here and alive in your arms. For what are the comforts of flesh, when there is a lack of.